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weelittleweasley · 4 years ago

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destined for you (d.m.)

prompt requested by @sincerelymalfoy: everyone wanted to find their soulmate. that was except for draco malfoy. in this world, you find your soulmate because you can feel the same physical pain as them. this makes it harder for draco to avoid finding his soulmate.

pairing: draco malfoy x soulmate! fem! reader, friend! ron weasley x friend! reader

warnings: mentions of previous d*mestic ab*se, language, blood (from a nose bleed), burns from an open flame

word count: 5.6k

a/n: this fic mention’s draco’s abusive household at the end. if you find that this might be triggering content for you, please skip it or do not read this fic. take care of yourself please. fanfic is supposed to be enjoyable! so read with caution! all my love in the world, lex

You had heard of it before. Soulmates. Two souls put on this planet who were destined to find each other and spend their existence together harmoniously. Until death do them part.

It all sounded very romantic to you. Finding someone who had a soul, a spirit that matched yours. Kindred together. Your parents were soulmates and watching their relationship grow and blossom as you grew up was something you had always wanted. A love that continued to grow no matter the circumstances. A love that would guide you, protect you, care for you, and spend its days with you. A soulmate didn’t sound half bad.

Until you realized what that meant.

In order to know that you had met your soulmate, you would have to experience the same physical pains as them. Meaning everything that hurt them, you in turn felt, even though it wasn’t happening to you. The person could be on the other side of the planet, but the universe would still make you feel the same pains as them. It was an annoyance, for sure, but to you, anything that brought you one step closer to them was enough.

You remember exactly where you were when you first experienced your soulmates pain. You were about the age of eight, in your bedroom, reading on the floor, laying on your belly, kicking your legs about happily. That was before you felt a red, hot stinging sensation on your right cheek. Like someone had just slapped you in the face. Confusion washed all over you before you cried out, “Mum!” like any child would when random waves of pain washed over them with no reason why.

In a flash, your mother was in the doorway of your bedroom, asking what happened. You turned your cheek and pointed to it, telling her that it stung and hurt badly. Your mother’s eyes grew wide and she gasped, walking down to her child and touching the sensitive area. “Did you do this to yourself, sweetheart?” she asked, making sure that she wasn’t getting ahead of herself. Your soulmate couldn’t have possibly started showing signs of pain this young.

You shook your head and looked up at your mother worried about what was happening to you. “Am I gonna be alright, Mum?” you asked, your eight year old head full of worry and fear. This was scary for anyone, especially a child.

“Yes, darling, you will be quite alright. When you are a little older, your father and I will explain it all to you,” your mother brushed your cheek gently as you relaxed into her warm, maternal touch. She placed a gentle kiss on your hairline before speaking, “This happens to everyone, dear. I know, it’s confusing and can be scary. But it will end with good things, I swear it.”

And you held onto that promise that your mother told you that day on your bedroom floor. From that day on, you continued to feel random spurts of pain. A pinch in the fleshy part of your arm, a slap upside the head, a gut wrenching pain in the your gut, but most often you felt pain in your chest. Less physical pain, but like someone had just broken your heart. It would go away within seconds, but for those few seconds, it felt like someone had told you the worst news of your life, your heart felt hollow. This continued on and on for years but when you turned eleven things changed.

Two weeks before your eleventh birthday, your mother and father had talked to you about soulmates and how you felt their pain no matter where in the world they were. Even more specifically, your parents had given you warning that you might be meeting your soulmate soon. “What do you mean?” you sat in the dining room chair, dropping your fork at the suggestion of meeting your soulmate at the young, ripe age of eleven.

Your mother looked at your father who gave her a supportive nod. She took a deep breath in before speaking, “(Y/N), honey, you know that you’ll be going to Hogwarts soon. Kids from all over will be going to school with you. One of those kids could very well be your soulmate. I mean, that’s what happened to me and your father,” she tells you as your father grabs your mother’s hand and gives it a reassuring squeeze.

Whilst you sat at the dinner table, face blank, your mind was running a thousand miles a minute. You were going to turn eleven and all of a sudden you could be meeting your soulmate? You were a child. You should be focusing on school work, meeting new friends, having fun, enjoying this time of your life before it goes by in the blink of an eye. “But I don’t want to. Not yet,” you protest, tears starting to pool in your eyes. “I want to meet them soon, but not now.”

Rising from his chair, your father rushes to your side, not wanting to see his daughter torn over the news that she could be meeting her soulmate. She was supposed to be happy. “Hey, kiddo, it’s okay,” he wipes away your tear, brushing the hair out of your face, placing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “It doesn’t mean you’re definitely going to meeting them. You might. That’s all. What your mother and I are more worried about is you being safe and having fun. That’s all,” he tells you with a reassuring smile. And in that moment, you calmed down and succumbed to a sniffling mess. “Hogwarts is going to be a blast. You’re going to meet so many new people and have so many new adventures, pumpkin. No need to worry about a silly soulmate.”

Your father’s words soothed you, but that was only temporary. When you arrived at Hogwarts, you were too involved in the thrill of things to pay attention to the small pains you would get from your soulmate. Instead, you let yourself wander away with new friends, discovering new parts of the castle and the grounds. Soon enough, finding your soulmate became the last thing on your mind.

But the years started to go by and a lot of your classmates were discovering that they had soulmates within Hogwarts. Students were putting two and two together, realizing the pains they were feeling were similar if not the same as their soulmates. In fact, most soulmate encounters happened in the hospital wing with Madam Pomfrey. A student came in complaining about a mysterious pain in their leg and low and behold, there was another student laying in a bed with their leg in a cast. Another match.

It came down to a new soulmate announcement happened every few days. You would groan and roll your eyes at the news, but deep down, you secretly wished that your soulmate would reveal themselves soon. Sure, when you first got to Hogwarts, you didn’t want to meet your soulmate because you wanted to focus on making friends and getting used to life at a new school. But now that you were in your sixth year and everyone was starting to find their soulmate, you felt left out.

You sat in the library, studying quietly by yourself before someone hurls themself in a chair right next to you. “Quick, pretend like we’re having a conversation,” Ron grabs your arm tight and shakes you. You give him a puzzled look before he speaks, “It’s Lavender again.”

Shaking your head with a laugh, you mindlessly start talking about whatever, pretending to be deep in conversation with Ron. Out of your periphery vision, you see Lavender approach the table, but then stomp her foot in frustration before leaving the area you were in and out of the library. Ron sighs in relief and leans back in the chair as you chuckle. “Why can’t you tell her that you’re not soulmates. Is she still on you about that?” you ask him, crossing your arms across your chest.

Ron groans, “Because she makes shit up! Like in Potions! I had burnt my hand on the flame and it hurt and then she pretended like her hand burned too, but it didn’t!”

You continue to tease Ron. “Oh yeah? How do you know it didn’t actually hurt?”

He leans forward on the table and exclaims, “She’s making it up! Because when we were in class last week, she bumped into Katie Bell and she got a nose bleed. And me? Nothing. Nada. Zip. Zilch. We are not soulmates, (Y/N)! She’s bloody out of her mind.” You just sit back and laugh at Ron’s hysterics. You did have to admit though, making up pains just so you can be soulmates with someone who didn’t want to be soulmates with you. That was a little strange. “I’m telling you, we need to find our soulmates soon or I’m gonna lose my mind.”

At the mention of finding your soulmate, your heart speeds up and you gulp. You really didn’t want to talk about your soulmate right now. The thought just made you frustrated. The last sign you had gotten from them was about two weeks ago. A deep pain in your side, like something had smashed into it.

“Have you felt anything recently? Maybe if you tell me, I’ll know of someone who felt it too,” Ron encourages. “Go on now.”

With a groan, you sit up and prop your head up on your hands as Ron waits for you to tell him. “Two weeks ago I had a crippling pain in my side. In the afternoon. Didn’t fade until an hour later,” you reveal to Ron.

He thinks for a moment and then speaks, “Which side? Where in your side? Like your stomach?”

“My left side by my ribcage. Hurt like a bitch,” you suck in, reminiscing the pain that had you curled over in bed as your roommate sat next to you in your bed, rubbing your back, trying to soothe the pain. But there was no use.

Ron think again before speaking, “I mean...I know it’s a long shot, but I remember someone saying that during quidditch practice someone was sent to Madam Pomfrey’s for an injury. I don’t remember who, but you could probably ask Madam Pomfrey and see if she remembers.”

You shrug, running your fingers through your hair. “I don’t know if it’s worth it, Ron. What am I going to say? Two weeks ago my side hurt and I don’t know who was injured. Do you know who it was? It might be my soulmate,” you tease Ron who rolls his eyes. “When the time is right, I’ll find them.”

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

Another week goes by and it’s another week of no pain. From either you or your soulmate. It was like they were doing everything in their power to prevent themselves from getting hurt. Even a paper cut. Nothing. And it was making you more frustrated then ever, seeing people happily walking in the hallway with their soulmates and yet here you were, soulmate-less and painless walking in the halls by yourself.

You walk into Potions class with a sigh, not really wanting to be here. You’d rather be hanging out with your friends in the courtyard on this beautiful, warm day rather than being cooped up inside the castle, doing nothing. “You look thrilled to be here,” Cho teases you as you take your usual seat next to her and behind Ron and Harry. “You alright?” she asks as you simply nod, not really feeling like vomiting all your baggage right now.

Class begins as normal and your assignment was to replicate Girding Potion successfully and quickly. The whole class was at work diligently as you opened vials, reading the ingredients list, dumping them into the cauldron. As you did so, girls around you chit chatted about their soulmates and their pains, taking them as clues as to who it could be.

The chatter was like a fly in your ear, buzzing around and around and around, driving you towards a meltdown. Sweet Hannah Abbot gushed at how Neville told her that he thought they were soulmates, bringing her two bunches of beautiful, lush flowers. Girls cooed at the story, telling her how lucky she was. Hannah was lucky; having found her soulmate and that being Neville Longbottom, Hogwarts’ sweetheart.

Girls continued to chatter about their soulmate and how close they were to finding them and how excited they were. This only made your blood boil as you angrily tossed things into the cauldron now, fists tightening. “(Y/N), take it easy,” Ron laughs next to you as he watches you angrily toss things into your concoction.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Ronald. Is my frustration bothersome? I can’t help it that I’m one of the last people in this school to find their soulmate after relentlessly searching for signs that they’re still alive,” you angrily tear up dragonfly thoraxes, tossing them into the potion as Ron just watches you concerned. “I mean bloody hell, there are fourth years who have found their soulmates and I’m still clueless as if they even go to school here. You’d thing finding one person wouldn’t be so hard, but damn it, Ronald, I’m so exhausted of hearing everyone else’s stories and how happy they are and how in love people are whilst I’m standing here trying to figure out if I still have a soulmate at this point!” you whisper yell at him, growing angrier with every word you utter. “Ugh, whatever I ju-Ow! Fuck!” you hiss as you realize you’ve burnt your hand on the open flame that licks the the cauldron.

Ron looks at the burn and his eyes widen. “Not again,” he huffs, having been through this before. “Come here, we’ll have to run it under ice water to stop the stinging,” Ron tells you, grabbing an empty cauldron. “Aguamenti,” he casts on the cauldron, filling it up with cold water as you submerge it fully, the stinging sensation subsiding. “Professor Slughorn! (Y/N) seems to have burnt her hand,” Ron calls over Slughorn who is attentive at another work table.

Slughorn turns around and lightly chuckles, “You too, Miss (Y/L/N)? Mr. Malfoy seems to have also burnt his hand. One moment and I’ll be right with you to take a look at the burns.”

Your eyes widen and your heart sinks for a moment. “O-Okay,” you stutter before you turn to Ron who looks at you in disbelief. Draco Malfoy? No. Absolutely not. No way. Not a chance. “It’s a coincidence,” you tell Ron with a shake of your head in disbelief. “Everyone burns their hand in Potions. It happens all the time,” you try to convince yourself as you focus on your hand in the cold water, watching it clench and flex underneath the surface.

Ron opens up his mouth in protest, but you give him a look as if to say don’t you dare try to rationalize this. Ron sighs. “Whatever you say. It’s your soulmate,” he shrugs with a little smile.

“Shut up, Ronald, or I’ll tell Lavender,” you warn him and he instantly shuts up.

The thought of Draco Malfoy being the person the universe chose to be your soulmate made you feel physically ill. Draco was nothing you wanted in a soulmate. He was cruel and vindictive and ill-mannered and vicious. He had no care for anyone except if it benefit him in some form. How could you manage to care for someone with a character like that?

You glanced over at Draco who watched as Professor Slughorn wrapped his badly burned handle in cream colored gauze. The motion of him wrapping the gauze around his hand was almost hypnotizing as you watched it go round and round, your eyes trailing up to Draco’s face. His face was relaxed, but his jaw was clenched and tense, accentuating his bone structure of his face. Slowly, his head turned to face yours, his cold blue eyes meeting yours as you gulped. When he looked at you, your heart thumped against your chest like a drum. Shaking it off, you look back down at your hand, but you can still feel Draco’s eyes on you.

“If he’s my soulmate, I don’t know what I’ll do,” you whisper down, not daring to make eye contact with Ron.

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

Another week passed and their was radio silence from your soulmate. Nothing. However, you were kind of glad there was nothing after what happened in Potions class. You wouldn’t let yourself entertain the thought that Draco Malfoy could be your soulmate in some timeline. The more you thought about it, the sicker it made you feel.

When you passed him in the hall, you refused to look in his direction and him you. The both of you knew what the other way thinking, but wouldn’t dare confront the other about it. It was far too risky to play that game. No need to talk about something if neither one of you wanted it to be true.

You found yourself hanging out in the courtyard, messing around with a few of your friends as you sat on the grass, absorbing the brilliant spring sun. People chattered amongst themselves, delighted to be surrounded with their friends. As you leaned up against the tree, you chat lightly to Ron, watching other people toss around a ball, others lay around in the grass, some reading books. “Lavender finally off your back?” you ask Ron, giving him a nudge with a smile.

Ron rolls his eyes, “Bloody finally. It only took forever.” You chuckle before resting your head on his shoulder. “Anything from you? We haven’t talked about it since....you know...” he trails off, not daring to say his name like it was You-Know-Who.

But he was always around. There was no escaping him. There he was, standing in the courtyard, surrounded by his little bitch boy posse as you sneered, “No. And I’m not even entertaining the thought that it’s him. He’s horrid.”

Ron chuckled lightly, giving your arm a squeeze. “Alright, let’s get your mind off of him. Did you do the DaDa homework? Because I certainly did not and Hermione told me she won’t let me use hers again ‘cause I used hers last week.”

The two of you keep chatting for a little while until you feel a sharp pain in your left side, like the one you had all those weeks ago. “Ah,” you wince in pain as you hands meet you left side, clutching it in pain, writhing. “Not again.”

Ron turns and faces you, placing a hand on your shoulder. “You alright? What do you mean not again?” he asks, searching your eyes for some clarity. “You need a medic? Someone? Hannah? Come over here!” Ron calls out to Hannah Abbot who lays on the ground, head in Neville’s lap. She shoots straight up to meet you at your side, asking you what the problem was.

“It’s fine. This happened a few weeks ago. You can ask my roommate about it. I think it’s my soulmate actually. They hurt themselves badly and it seems like, ah shit, they’ve done it again,” you seethe in pain as you clutch onto your side, electricity shooting up and down your sides.

Hannah looks at you and grabs your shoulders, trying to get you to stop contorting your body. “Don’t move, it’ll only make the pain worse, alright?” she tells you. “The pain should subside if it’s only your soulmate’s pain and not yours directly. That being said, you have any clue who your soulmate is? Are they at Hogwarts? ‘Cause if they are here, we can get them help which will ultimately help you,” Hannah explains.

And that’s when the moment you dreaded finally came. You gulp, your chest heaving up and down from the pain as you look up through your eyelashes to look across the courtyard. And low and below, there he was. Clutching onto his side, wincing in pain as he threw an arm over Blaise Zabini’s shoulder, using him as a crutch.

From the distance, you hear him speak, “I’m fine. Honestly. I think I reopened whatever injury I got from that quidditch practice a few weeks ago. I’m alright, Blaise, honestly, no need to fuckin’ baby me.” Draco untangles himself from Blaise as brushes off his shirt while still wincing lightly at the pain.

Your heart sinks into your feet and all of a sudden you feel lightheaded. So the day in Potions class was real. Draco didn’t coincidentally burn his hand too. He felt your burn because you were soulmates. You felt his rib injury because you were soulmates. Draco Malfoy was destined to be yours.

“I’ve got to go. Now,” you try and scramble to your feet, pushing through the burning pain up and down your ribcage, ignoring Ron and Hannah’s protests that you needed to take it easy. “The pain is gone. I’m fine. I need to go,” you simply call out, walking away from the group in the courtyard.

You were on a mission now and you were going to put an end to this. Once and for all. Without further hesitation, you grab your bag and start marching over to the other side of the courtyard to where Draco was. As you do so, he notices you approaching and starts to leave the courtyard, trying to prevent you and him having some sort of interaction. “God Godric, really, Malfoy?” you huff out to yourself, knowing that if this was the way he was reacting to the news, the future didn’t look too bright.

Draco starts to march through the corridors as you are quick on his heels, chasing him like a predator chases its prey in the wild. Draco turns to see if you are still on his toes and much to his dismay, you are right behind him. “Malfoy, would you stop running away from me? We need to have a conversation!”

He scoffs, “No, you want to have a conversation. I would like to go back to the common room and take a load off.”

You groan out in frustration before taking up a light jog and grabbing a hold of his wrist, pulling him into an empty classroom. Before he can squirm away, you shut the door and put your back against it, preventing him from going anywhere.

The two of you just stand there, glaring at each other, both gravely disappointed with the reality that just slapped you both in the face. No one says anything for a moment. You two are just breathing, heavy and hot in the room, a few feet separating the two of you. Neither one of you dared to take a step closer to the other.

“What’s the problem, (Y/L/N)?” Draco tucks his hands into his pockets, playing the fool. Pretending he isn’t bothered by this information that your souls were made for each other. He was trying to play it cool whilst inside his mind was screaming and shouting, how could this have happened? Someone like you with someone like him. The universe had to have made a mistake.

Oh, Malfoy, you fool. The universe doesn’t make mistakes.

Your chest is still heaving up and down as you speak, “We’re soulmates, Draco.”

He shakes his head, “Sure. Whatever that means. Congratulations, we did it. Go us. Now can you kindly move your arse out of the way so I can go relax in peace?”

“No!” you exclaim, firmly planted at the door, glaring at him. “Listen, I’m just as unhappy as you are with this outcome!” you reveal as Draco gulps with a scowl on his face. “But the universe chose us as soulmates for some reason and I’m going to listen to the universe. We both can’t ignore it anymore.”

Draco looks away from you, refusing to look you in the eyes. For some reason, looking at you in the eyes was too much for him. It felt like you were looking into his soul, you knew all of his secrets with just a gaze into those iceberg eyes of his.

“That day in Potions, you didn’t burn your hand...” you gently coax him. “That was my burn that you felt.”

“So what! We both burned our hands in Potions! That doesn’t make us any more or less soulmates!” he explodes in fury.

His sudden change in demeanor makes you change tactics. You knew that this conversation would be hard to have with Draco, but not like this. You didn’t think he would succumb to acting like a child at this news. Finding your soulmate should be something to celebrate, to rejoice about, but instead it was an uphill battle. But one you intended to win.

“Alright then, you want to ignore Potions. Fine! What about your rib cage? Four weeks ago, I was writhing in pain on my bed one afternoon for hours from the pain. Ron told me that a quidditch player got injured during timed trials. He didn’t know who. So, today, I feel the same pain in my side in the courtyard, just to look up at see you writhing in pain in your side. You were the quidditch player, Draco. And don’t you dare lie to me and say it was someone else. Because we both know damn well that neither of us deserve to be lied to again!” you exclaim, hot tears now brimming in your eyes, threatening to spill out.

Draco hears the emotion in your voice and watches your soft face crack to reveal a truly sad person. His eyes soften and he gulps, feeling horribly guilty. But he doesn’t let you know it.

“When I was younger,” you sniffle, “I always wanted to meet my soulmate. I felt so badly for them because I always felt their pain. And my soulmate was always hurting. In his body, yes, but in his heart,” you try to reason with him. “I told my mum and dad that when I met my soulmate I would give them a hug because I didn’t want them to feel anymore pain. I wanted them to feel loved.” Your eyes search Draco’s for some glimmer of hope. You weren’t expecting a proclamation of love or realization. You were looking for hope. “We were destined for each other.”

Draco takes a deep breath in before speaking, “We may be destined for each other, (Y/N). But I don’t think we can ever love each other.”

His words leave you blank. That was the best way to describe the way you felt. You weren’t surprised he would say that, but you were shocked that he had actually done it. His sad smile means nothing to you; in fact, it feels like he just twisted the knife that was in your gut.

He manages to slip out of the classroom, leaving you there, numb and blank.

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

You didn’t sleep that night. It was nearly impossible to sleep. The scene just kept playing on and on and on in your head until it became a broken movie reel. Your mind screamed to close your eyes and sleep, but your memories manifested themselves into a sick nightmare as you jolted awake, heart pounding.

Your roommates were still fast asleep as you peaked a look at your clock. 2:22am. Angel number now? Great. Well, where were you hours ago?

Slowly, you toss your legs over the side of the bed and grab a sweatshirt and slippers, pulling the cozy material closer to your chilly body. Quietly, you descend the steps of your dormitory and away into the castle to go for a midnight stroll, hoping that you would be caught by the Head Boy or Girl or any other prefect that roamed the halls patrolling them from midnight stragglers.

The halls of Hogwarts were quiet. But not in a scary way. In a comforting way. The pictures on the walls slept gently, small snores coming from a few pictures making a small smile draw its way onto your lips as you shuffles the halls. The air was cool and crisp as you breathed it in, the sensation cooling your lungs as you sighed. This was much needed after a day like today.

As you stroll further through the castle, you come across the courtyard again and you gulp. The scene plays over and over in your head. “We may be destined for each other, (Y/N). But I don’t think we can ever love each other.” His words were a sick mantra in your mind. How could you possibly spend the rest of your life with someone who didn’t even want to put in an ounce of effort? You were supposed to be loved. Give love. Get love. But instead, you ended up with a shattered daydream of what things could have been.

You peel your eyes away from the courtyard and to the corridor where on the edge of the wall sits who you wanted to see least of all right now. Your heart stops at the sight of his white blonde hair, sloppily slicked back. His eyes were dark and tired. He couldn’t sleep either.

Maybe you could slip away without him knowing you were even there. Maybe if you turned around you coul-

“My father was ruthless to me as a child,” Draco speaks up without looking at you. You stop in your tracks and listen. Slowly, he turns to face you and gives you a sad smile. “Still is, to an extent. Not as physically ruthless, but...you get the idea,” he confesses as you sigh and walk over to him, taking a seat beside him on the cold brick, leaning your back against the wall.

Draco gulps and settles before continuing on. “I was always worried. That whenever he would make me feel hurt, my soulmate would feel it. My mother tried to tell me that they would be just fine, but I knew....I knew that she was lying to protect me. Protect me from whatever it was,” he trails off, becoming quiet. In the dark, you couldn’t really tell, but you knew he was softly crying, tears falling down from the pools of blue in his eyes. “I’m so sorry that you had to feel what I felt growing up...he’s a monster. My own father...”

You scoot over closer to Draco and shake your head. None of this was his fault. “Draco, you don’t need to apologize to me. Your father is despicable and you are not him,” you tell him as Draco wipes his tears before you could see them. He didn’t want to cry in front of you yet. “I’m so sorry you had to go through that all those years.”

He shakes his head, “You know, for years, I tried to convince myself that I didn’t have a soulmate,” he lightly laughs. “That way, I only had to protect myself. It was selfish of me. But...obviously, that didn’t work out. I would feel your pain too. I remember one day in third year, something had happened to you. You were running and you fell and you broke your arm. I remember yelling out in pain in the common room and Goyle looked at me like I had ten heads,” he laughs as you joined him, smiling at the memory. He was right. You were running with Ron when you had tripped and fallen in Hogsmeade and broke your right arm. “I remember you came back with a bright orange cast and everyone signed it in Divinations class. You told everyone Madam Pomfrey said you didn’t need a cast because of the Healing Potion, but you insisted on getting one because you had one when you were eight. I remember I thought you looked cute smiling and giggling as people wrote their get wells on your broken arm.”

The smile that appears on your face is wide as your heart gently flutters as he remembered all the tiny details of when you broke your arm. Draco knew for so long that you were soulmates and yet, you were so dead clueless.

“I didn’t want to tell you that we were soulmates because I didn’t want you to be disappointed,” Draco confesses. “I guess I’m a bit too late on that one, eh?”

You shake your head and sigh, “No, Draco. I mean, do I think you’re a down right dickhead? Absolutely.” He laughs. “But I don’t think it’s too late for you to start trying to act differently. If you can remember me breaking my arm in third year and remember what color the bloody cast was...I think you can work on being a better person. Not for me. But for you.”

Draco inhales deeply before shaking his head, exhaling. “I want to be better. For me, but I want to be what you deserve. If we’re going to...do this, I want to do it right. And if, by some fucked up reason,” he laughs as you chuckle, “it doesn’t work, then at least we know that we tried.”

You feel his hand grab yours as he intertwines his fingers with yours. You look down at his hands and smile, giving it a soft squeeze, assuring him that his proposal sounded like a plan. You were going to give this a go.

If the universe believed in you and Draco, why shouldn’t you?

“That’s all I can ask for,” you whispered gently.

“And I promise I’m going to do more than you ask for. I swear on my life.”

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bunnirs · 5 years ago

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Yandere! Gon and Killua with a S/O who tries to leave

Requested by: Anon!

“I don’t know if you do any yandere stuff but if you do I was wondering how would yandere killua and gon react to thier s/o trying to leave them for Accidentally Cheating. Thx love your blog”

First Gon and Killua request!! I’m so excited! For the sake of all things holy, ALL CHARACTERS WILL BE AGED UP A BIT. especially with the cheating thing 👉👈 UMM ALSO THIS IS MY FIRST EVER YANDERE TYPE THING SO IM SORRY 😭

Gon:

Alright this dude doesn’t see anything wrong with the fact that he cheated

HE THINKS ITS NORMAL??

And to think you’d get so upset over him ‘cheating’ on you??

He would never! He was just being ‘nice’ to one of tourists of Whale Island

A little to nice.

He’s the type of Yandere that thinks what he does is completely fine! He thinks he’s doing the right thing!

So that’s where you had enough.

Gon was a lunatic and you had to get away

Maybe you’d call Leorio or Kurapika, they’d help you

That’s all you had to do

Get to a pay phone and dial Leorio or Kurapika

So while Gon had left to do God knows what..

You packed your shit and walked out the door

Surprisingly.. you got to the pay phone rather easily

Your paranoia had shot up with the risk of getting caught

Like 📈📈📈📈📈

You made the decision to call Kurapika. He was more serious with this stuff.

You waited for Kurapika until it was dark out

But he came all the same

But you hadn’t expected to see Gon right behind him

That’s right. Gon had said something about visiting Kurapika. Shit.

You were an idiot not to pay closer attention

Fuck fuck fuck he looks mad

His eyes were avoid of anything,,,

His soulless hues stared into your own, and you felt like you could throw up

Kurapika seemed rather worried, asking what happened while Gon was gone

You couldn’t tell him about Gon being a psycho

He wouldn’t believe you.. right?

You made the choice in saying that someone had tried to hurt you, and with Gon away, you didn’t know what to do

Kurapika sighed and said he’d get a hotel and would scout the island for any suspicious behavior,,,

But he didn’t know that Gon WAS the culprit.

Soon after that, you went home with Gon.

“....You lied to him, Y/N.” There was a pregnant pause before your name, almost like it was hard for him to pronounce. “You never lie.”

“...Gon....” You said quietly, not prepared for whatever the hell he was going to say.

“Is this about the woman?” Gon narrowed his eyes at his feet, which moved as the both of you took the road to his house.

“No I just-“ you went quiet, not knowing what to say. Make something up. Fast. “I just wanted to.. get away from the island a bit.”

“Get away?” Gon’s dark expression changed into one of confusion. “Do you not like it here?”

“No! I like it here!” You said abruptly, your eyes widening. “It’s just, I was thinking of visiting my parents! See what they’re up too!” You nervously laughed, praying he didn’t notice your smile faulter.

“...Oh well...that’s easy.” Gon smiled at you, and for a second, you thought you did something good. “They’re up to nothing.” His eyes darkened, his smile widening a bit.

“Nothing?” You questioned, confused.

“They’re dead.” Gon hummed. “They kept trying to get in my way.. so I put them out of their misery. They missed you a lot.. and kept saying I kidnapped you! Which isn’t true right?”

You didn’t say anything. Nothing at all. The only thing that escaped your mouth were the harsh sobs, which seemed to shake your whole body. You fell to the ground, the rough asphalt slicing your knees, the stinging couldn’t compare to the state your heart was in.

“...Oh..” His voice lowered, the slight evidence of worry laced his tone. “.....Can you not speak..?” He grabbed your hand, kneeling before you.

You smacked his hand away, falling onto your back. “G-get the hell away from me!” You screamed, your hands slipping on the bloodied gravel below you. You kept trying to stand up, but it seemed that gravity pushed against you even harder than before. “Go away! For gods sake just leave me alone!”

He stared at his hand for about a minute, his mouth wide and agape. “Leave.. you alone? While your upset?” He seemed hurt, his eyes swelling up, tears appearing. “What kind of boyfriend would I be if I left you like this! You’re hurting!”

“Because of you! I’m HURTING BECAUSE OF YOU!” You screamed in his face, somehow gaining the strength to sit up.

“.......I didn’t hurt you! I would never hurt you!” His voice gained in volume, almost like he was panicking. “I just did what was best for both of us!”

“You did what was best for you!” You shoved your finger into his chest, your nail almost bending due to the pressure. “You never think about me! You force me to stay with you! I never wanted something like this! I-“

“Shut up.” Gon said suddenly, shadow overcasting his facial features. “Everything I do is for you... don’t you dare say it isn’t!” His hand quickly grabbed your wrist, the sickening sound of bone being crushed seemed to echo in your ears.

“Y-you’re hurting me... right now... you’re hurting me..” you whispered, trying your best not to cry even more. Your head already hurt from the screaming, the pain adding to your desire to pass out.

“You don’t know real pain.” He said coldly. “But you’ll find out soon.”

That’s all you heard before you eyes seemed to close, your body falling forward into someone’s warm embrace, the air being knocked out of you.

“But everything I do... is for you.. Y/N.”

Killua:

Thing is I don’t see him cheating :(

He’s so closed off as is, so it’s surprising he’s in love with you anyway!!

He’s definetly the Yandere who thinks that you need him

Like you’d be in danger without him

He’s definitely convinced himself that you’d die if you weren’t with him

And that makes him so friggin sad

He wants you to be happy

But he wants you to be safe first.

So, if you try to escape, that’ll make him even more broken inside

He’s a tragic yandere tbh

Wants to give you happiness and love, but he can’t let you out of his sight 😭

So you probably try to leave when he kills someone that was close to you

Probably a guy friend of yours

He felt like he was dangerous, and couldn’t have him taking you away

So he murdered him on the spot with a quick hand through the heart, his nails bloodied.

That was the last straw. You were living with a murderer.

How you would get out? You had no idea

You were in the Zoldyck Mansion. Locked away.

If anything, you could try talking to Canary. She liked you. A lot.

So that’s what you did. You told Canary everything.

She believed you almost immediately. She knew the Zoldycks were cruel... Killua included, no matter how much she liked him.

She’d try to smuggle you outside the gate

Hopefully the security guard would understand

That’s what got you here, standing from right inside the testing gate, Killua before you.

Canary was long gone. She had to stop the butlers from following you.. so you were alone.

“....What are you doing so far from home...?” He questioned, his eyes widened at the sight of you with bags in your hands. “It’s dangerous out here.”

“Killua, we’re inside the gate. You know it’s plenty safe out here.” You narrowed your eyes, nails digging into the leather holsters of your bag. You couldn’t back down now. “Besides, I can protect myself if need be.”

“.....Of course you can. I don’t doubt your abilities.” Killua rolled his eyes, his attitude returning to normal. “I wouldn’t date someone who can’t protect themselves.”

“....Then why don’t you act like that?” You felt a pang in your chest. He made it seems like you were weak.... He made it seem like you were helpless. Why would he do that?

“Act like what? Protective? I can’t do that?” He questioned, his defensive tone making itself clear.

“That is not what this is.” You countered, stepping back a bit. “You know this isn’t you being protective! You act like I’m fragile! Some glass vase that’ll break if someone pushes me to hard! I’m not! I’m a professional hunter just like you!”

“...You don’t act like it.” He pouted, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“How can you be so childish right now!? This is why I need to leave!” You stepped forward, your voice gaining in volume.

“...Leaving is a need? Are you sure you just don’t want it?” He stepped towards you, his voice getting low. He was definitely getting pissed off now.

“I haven’t been outside the gate in years Killua! You know how ridiculous that sounds?! Last time I interacted with someone from outside this gate, you fucking murdered them! He was my friend!”

“He was trying to hurt you!” Killua responded, his eyes darkening. “He was inviting you outside the gate! And by yourself no less! He could’ve hurt you!”

“Going out the gate isn’t a death sentence! I need fresh air Killua! I need to see people!” You continued to yell, throwing your hands up in the air dramatically, the bag in your hand almost being flung off to the side.

“You see my family everyday! They’re people!” Killua scoffed. “barely...” he muttered to himself, getting lost in thought.

“What if I don’t want to see your family anymore?! What if I don’t want to see you?!” You gasped right after the words left your mouth, hands covered your lips, almost in disbelief of what you had just said.

As your thoughts consumed you, you felt a slight pain in your abdomen, your body falling to the ground. Your bags cluttered around you, creating what ironically looked like a crime scene. He had just pushed you. That’s never happened before.

Killua stood above you, his eyes pulsating with dark intent, his aura covering for what seemed like miles. “....Don’t you ever say that!” He yelled out, tears almost appearing in his empty voids. “I might believe it one day! That you don’t need me anymore!” He grabbed the collar of your shirt, so his eyes could look into yours. “I can’t lose you like everyone else! Don’t leave me behind! I used to think you needed me but now I think it’s the other way around!” He cried out, tears threatening to spill. “I have to protect you with everything I have! I’ll continue to kill the people who try to take you away! So please don’t make this hard! I know you want to leave! I understand! But that can’t happen!”

You were quiet, your body feeling limp as he had hit a sensitive point on your body. “O-okay...” you muttered out, tears brimming the corners of your eyes. “I’ll stay.... I-“

Before you can finish, Killua hugged you tighter than ever before, knocking the air out of you. You felt like you could pass out, that feeling soon coming to reality as black dots filled your vision. He had somehow managed to manipulated you again. His worry getting the best of you.

Curse you for being so damn sympathetic.

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aetheternity · 4 years ago

Note

i got a request! which i do hope you like since it took a while for me to think of ejdj:

so hc’s for Levi and/or Mikasa ahsjd

they wasn’t there to protect you. They felt so stupid and useless. They couldn’t hold in their tears. you were gone. They couldn’t hold you in their arms. He couldn’t laugh at your stupid jokes. you were the heart of the survey corps. Now that you’re gone, the survey corps went all dull and colorless. They would curl up into a ball in their bed (which Levi has for some reason idk why, and if you’re wondering, no mikasa and levi don’t share a bed wtaf👩🏼‍⚖️👩🏼‍⚖️👩🏼‍⚖️) and think about their favorite moments with you. He would remember you fall down into a hay stack and that you would immediately laugh after. They would remember you falling asleep while reading a book with them. they would remember all that. weeks go by and you were still gone. The survey corps was still colorless and dull. There were many still crying after you ‘death’. But on the 18th week you were gone. it turns out. you weren’t dead. The survey corps were on an expedition, they had no expression on their face after your ‘death’ .. they still couldn’t get over the fact that you were dead. Oh they missed you so much .. but their sadness faded when they saw you, alive, hiding in a bush. now that the survey corps has found you. There was color and happiness once again.... // i hate this plot but it was all i got

(My last two requests have been angst so I would genuinely like to ask from the bottom of my heart. Are y'all ok????)

Word of warning: Angst, Missing reader (found)

Mikasa

•She had always assumed the most painful thing in the world would be losing either Eren or Armin. (Or both!) She'd already lost her mother and father but losing you was like a whole other level of painful.

•She'd always seen life as both beautiful and cruel but right now it just felt cruel. Like someone had stripped the world of its color.

•Keeps every single thing that you've ever given her or held in her bed under her blanket so she can hold it at night in a little pile.

•Cries while rereading the last chapter you bookmarked in your favorite book that was always on her nightstand. (Definitely reads it every night before going to sleep)

•Armin and Eren's moods are also drastically effected. People you probably didn't even know were coming up to Mikasa with condolences.

•If you had a living family all of your belongings that Mikasa didn't possess would go to them. But if you didn't Mikasa would add it to the growing "shrine" for you.

•They hadn't found your body and a part of Mikasa had held on so strongly for the first couple weeks that you could be alive but the surrounding area had been titan city and they found your horse without you.

•Mikasa would retell every memory she has of you to Eren and Armin (sometimes to anyone who will listen).

•She doesn't want to look like she's dying inside but she is and literally everyone can tell. (The entire Survey Corps seems to be mourning for weeks with her.)

•When she thinks no one's paying attention or when she's alone is when she'll really give in. Hugging her knees, pretending it's you and just rocks back and forth with deep heavy sobs.

•Around week 18 when the search had been completely given up on and everyone had begun to live normally again (aside from Mikasa.) There you were, in a bush.

•Jean had been the one that found you. Breathing, slumped back against a tree and behind a bush.

•Somehow you'd survived and here you were like a mirage. Except-

•Alive.. real. So so very here.

•Mikasa was already tearing up as she pressed a finger over your pulse. Then pulled you forward into her lap. Your body a little pale, but warm.. so so warm like it'd been every night she'd ever held you.

•Remember in S1 when Mikasa was holding Eren after he emerged from the titan and she put her head up to his chest then cried as she held him? That's you and her rn.

•Girl's sobbing so loud she's attracting the other Survey Corp members that had come out beyond the walls.

•Everyone else starts to tear up too as she just rocks you and cries into your dirty shirt.

•You can bet she's not letting you go either. "We need to put them in the wagon Mikasa. They need treatment as soon as we get back." Cool. She's got you in her lap, arms around your waist.

•Over her dead body will you separate her from you especially in this state. She's combing your hair back with her fingers, placing a hand over your heartbeat and sighing sweetly as she listens to your pulse.

•Please don't take them away that's my emotional support human. 🥺

•You can bet she's gonna follow you around like she's surgically attached until she feels like you're genuinely ok and that you're not gonna leave her again.

•Know that she does it because she loves you.

Levi

•Everyone else is balling their eyes out over your death. You've even got some of the toughest looking men in the Survey Corps balling like little kids.

•He's not though.

•At least not during regular business hours.

•Alone at night in his room he's got your favorite book in his arms. Tears spilling over his cheeks with little sniffles as he holds the pillow you love alongside your book.

•He makes your favorite tea every morning and places it on your side of the table before remembering but he can never bring himself to drink it or throw it out so it just sits there till someone else gets rid of it.

•Your laugh never leaves his mind. In fact it practically haunts him. He's all alone but there's that sound. It's always you.

•He's lost so many people but the first week you were missing he refused to believe it. He's a little harsher in his words as he speaks to people for that whole week.

•You can't possibly be gone..

•He finally stops making an extra cup of tea for you and when he does the normal chores he stops saying he's doing your chores.

•To everyone else it just seemed like Captain Levi was being Captain Levi. But to Hange and Erwin they could see the slight difference. (I'm betting Erwin is the one who throws out the extra cup of tea Levi made every morning.)

•On the 18th week of you being gone a cadet comes yelling boisterously. Panting as they try to speak. "Captain! We found something!"

•When Levi sees you something swells in him. His heart is beating a mile a minute. Erwin is holding you and for a split second Levi's resolve slips and he's down on his knees next to Erwin.

•"Are-Are they?.." Erwin nods. "They're alive, Levi."

•He doesn't let you out of his sight for even a split second. He's riding a horse next to the cart you're kept in all the way back home. He's in your hospital room every free minute he has. He's fluffing your pillows every night and placing your favorite book in your arms.

•He made you tea even though you're not awake to drink it 🥺

•Holds your hand and stares at your still face for hours.

•Probably cries late at night when everyone is definitely asleep. Whispering soft, You're ok.. you're ok's Next to your ear.

•Listens to your heart beat because he'll never get tired of it.

•He's so mean once you're awake. He's probably forcing you to take on more work but know it comes from a good place.

•Don't ever do that shit again. But with his frowny pout that's too cute to look at.

•Please don't leave him again. You're one of the few things he has left.

#shingeki no kyoujin x reader #snk x reader #snk #aot x reader #levi x reader #attack on titan #levi x y/n #shingeki no kyoujin levi #levi x you #mikasa ackerman #mikasa aot #mikasa x you #snk mikasa

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barbatos-devotee · 5 years ago

Text

Fight For You

Genshin x Reader

Character: Xiao

Gender: Female

A/N: Sorry I didn’t get this out sooner! I’ve been writing and drawing some other things because I didn’t entirely know how I was gonna wrote this one lmao.. but now I do! Enjoy!

You were an adventurer, popular in the guild for your strength and your personality. You were no five-star, but you had enough confidence in your skills and ability that you got practically every job you’d ever done handled with ease. Hilichurls with a Mitachurl leader? No biggie. The group of Fatui barring entrance to Guili Plains? No sweat. A group of bandits trying to steal treasure from the scholars? Why, you could beat them with your eyes closed. You and your Pyro Vision were a threat to anyone who’d encountered you, and the giant claymore you carried on your back made sure no one with ill intent bothered you. Not to mention, you were sort of dating the adeptus that resided in Wangshu Inn, so that gave you a sort of invincibility as well. Your strength was second only to the Traveller, and you were very proud of your ability to handle anything.

Well, that was until you got a certain commission.

The job was to take out a Lawrachurl hanging out by some ruins. The difficulty was a little higher for you, you had to admit. Usually a party would go with you to handle the giant, geo-attuned things, but you’d decided to go on your own, confident in your ability to beat it. It had been a piece of cake so far, the shield was down and you were certain that the thing’s health was on its last legs. And just as you got in your final hit, the one that turned it to dust, something you weren’t expecting surprised you. And launched you across the ruins, really. You cried out in pain as you hit the stone wall, realizing you’d been hit by a rocket. Your (e/c) eyes turned to look at what had attacked you, and they subsequently widened when you spotted a Ruin Hunter climbing out from the rubble. The Lawrachurl’s attacks had unearthed and awoken it.

Well, shit. You weren’t too good at fighting Ruin Guards, Ruin Hunters, or even Ruin Graders! The things were far too dangerous, and it took you a whole party of strong vision users to even bring it down. And you were, at the moment, alone. Struggling to your feet, holding your side in pain, you just barely had enough time to leap out of the way of the mechanical monstrosity as it lunched for you, it’s bladed arm impaling the wall where you once stood. You clenched your teeth, glaring at the thing. Flames crackled around your form as you readied your claymore, but your balance was slightly off due to the wound on your side. But that didn’t matter, you had to take this thing down. You gave a battle cry as you rushed towards it, smacking it with your weapon as it had converted into it’s vulnerable form. You know, the one where it rained bombs on you from the sky from a safe distance? Yeah, that one. It stuttered and went down, and you proceeded to smack it with as much force and flame as you could muster. You stood back as it rose back up, and you fled to the side as it tried lunging for you again. You weren’t quick enough, however, and it’s blade slashed your side.

Hm.. maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all. You clenched your sides, both injured now, and fought back tears of pain as you remembered what Xiao had told you. “There’s no shame in running.” That’s really good advice, you reasoned, you were going to follow it. And so, you ran. The Ruin Hunter followed and attacked you for a few miles, before you could finally hide from it’s sight and lose it. Shuddering from your position inside of a small ruin, you sighed, and looked down at your body. You should try and fix this before you continued, or else you’d bleed out in the plains.

Xiao sat on the balcony of Wangshu Inn, looking out over the land as he usually did. His eyes scanned the ground as he watched citizens, Millieth and merchants wandering around, all interacting with each other. He looked for your form amongst them, wondering if you would be visiting today. You usually did, you always made time to see him, no matter how long it took you to do your commissions. You’d even arrive in the middle of the night sometimes, so waiting was nothing new to him, but today.. you said you’d be done with your work early. What was taking you so long? And Xiao couldn’t help but have this dreadful feeling in his gut, like something was wrong.. His golden eyes flicked to the side at the sight of movement, and then they widened. There; on the ground, stumbling in from the plains, walked your bruised and bloodied body. Your clothes were ripped, and you were missing a large portion of your pants fabric, which had been torn off and tied around your torso as makeshift bandages. The people around you were panicked, worrying for you as they tried to get you help. You just gave a tired smile, as though it was no big deal. Somehow, that hurt Xiao the most. He jumped down from his spot on the balcony, pushing someone aside as he reached out to catch your falling form.

“(Y/n)?! What happened?! Why are you so hurt? Who did this-?!” Xiao cried, his eyes filled with fear and worry as he picked you up bridal style and rushed you towards the Inn. You gave a weak chuckle, shrugging your shoulders.

“That Ruin Hunter wasn’t playing around. It scraped me up a bit. Then some hilichurls decided to hit me on my way back. Kinda sucked not gonna lie.” Xiao glared at you, astonished that you could joke at a time like this. You were taken to a doctor to help stabilize you and give you some pre-medication help, but they couldn’t do much. It took a while to bring you to Liyue, where you were then given to QiQi to help with your healing. As you rested in the bed, Xiao sat next to you, having been with you the entire time, absolutely refusing to let you go.

“You idiot.. why would you go in there by yourself..? You could have died... stupid.” Xiao pressed his hands to his eyes, wiping away the tears that began to form in them. “You’re only mortal. If you die, what- what will I do without you?” A hand came up to meet his face, and Xiao looked down, his eyes wide. You were smiling at him, your (e/c) eyes sparkling with affection.

“It’s okay Xiao. I’m going to be okay. But you’re right, it was a bit too much for me.”

“Of course it was! You should have taken a party, or.. or you could have asked me for help! You know I would have come with you, I’d be willing to fight for you!” Xiao exclaimed, his face a mix of anger and sadness. The tears he tried to hold back before began falling down his cheeks, and he angrily wiped at them.

“I know.. I know. But you’re meant to protect Liyue. What if something happened if you’d left with me? I couldn’t pull you away from your duty for that.” You explained, using your thumb to wipe away your boyfriend’s tears. He guided your hand back down to the bed, not wanting you to hurt yourself, but not letting go.

“What good is it to protect Liyue, if I can’t even protect you? You can be more selfish with me, especially when it comes to dangerous things like this...” Xiao leaned down, pressing his forehead to yours, the both of you closing your eyes in tearful content. “I would be devastated if I lost you.. please, be more careful.” You nodded, pressing a kiss to the adeptus’ cheek.

“I will. I promise. I love you, Xiao.”

“I love you too, (Y/N).”

The two of you sat in content silence, just enjoying each other’s presence. Adventuring will come at a later time, it’d take a while for you to get better, but at least now you knew. No matter what, Xiao would always be there to fight for you. To love you and just be there for you.

And that was all you needed.

#genshin impact #genshin imagines #genshin x reader #genshin xiao #xiao x reader #genshin impact xiao

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gallickingun · 5 years ago

Text

moving target

Summary: Bakugou Katsuki’s reputation needs a little work. His manager suggests he take a job as a personal bodyguard to one of the donor’s daughter to try and increase his social standing. Bakugou agrees, reminding himself that whoever he’s babysitting is nothing more than a glorified paycheck, a stepping ladder to get closer to surpassing even All Might in hero status. But, when you’re kidnapped, he has to face the truth that you might mean more to him than he planned.

Rating: T for Teen Warnings: language, a little graphic violence, a creepy scene there for a second, a semi-spicy scene, etc.

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x Reader

Word Count: 12,310 (because i have NO CHILL!)

request more from this prompt list!

“Absolutely not,” Bakugo huffs, kicking his boots up on the glass table in front of him, “I will not be some brat’s babysitter.”

His manager huffs, stepping forward, “Listen, your PR ratings are low. Helping out a big donor, being in the public eye actually helping will boost your ratings. Higher ratings mean more screen time which means more money, and eventually, a better gig.”

“...fine.”

As much as he hated to admit it, he was slipping through the ranks. Bakugo found it easy to rescue people, to punch out bad guys, but the press bit was where he severely lacked any and all prowess.

It only took one wrong encounter with a news reporter for Bakugo’s ratings to tank, which meant he was getting fewer sponsorship agreements and even less screen time on the nightly news. He needed this.

He hated this.

The way the suit clung to his shoulders reminded him of Ochako’s original hero costume from high school. All he had to do was send in his measurements, and the agency had five freshly pressed, perfectly tailored suits delivered to his apartment by the next morning. Still, he wished he was wearing his gauntlets and face mask instead of this silken suit.

His eyes wandered over the mansion he was currently standing in front of, the multiple stories forcing him to crane his neck to take it all in. Bakugo snorts, rolling his eyes as he steps out of the dark SUV, stepping up the flight of stairs to the large, intricate front door. He barely has time to knock before an older gentleman is opening the door, greeting him with a shrill accent.

“You must be here for the lady,” he makes way for Bakugo to walk in the door. The other two security guards are stalking around the homestead, securing the borders, so he walks in alone.

He can make out your figure sitting at the kitchen table, back to the foyer where he’s making his entrance. He read your file, studied your photos. You’re every bit as bratty as he assumed you would be when he was first offered the position. Your father was such a high contributor to the agency, and yet all of those dollars spent meant nothing. You were some version of a hedge fund baby - you went off to school with not a care in the world, money no object as you blitzed through life.

Bakugo despises everything that you and your family stand for. He came from nothing, built himself from the dirt up. Once he got his quirk, he swore he would never let anyone look down on him again, especially not those who were born endowed.

The older man calls your name and your head bobs at the sound before you turn in your chair, “Oh, is the next one here already, Miles?”

Next one? Bakugo thinks to himself. He didn’t hear about anyone before him. There were other bodyguards?

Miles, the butler-esque man standing in between you and Bakugo, chuckles, turning his head to slyly gaze at the young man in the foyer, “Ah, yes. The next one is here, ma’am.”

You laugh and slowly make your way across the room to inspect your newest victim. He’s wearing a dark suit, in contrast to his pale hair and light eyes. You tug at his tie and he snatches you by the wrists, “It’s expensive. Don’t touch.”

Raising a brow, you circle around him, “My daddy could buy you, hero, so don’t get your panties in a twist.”

Bakugo decides he doesn’t like the way the word ‘hero’ comes out of your mouth; like acid dripping from your tongue. He feels sweat begin to gather in his palms and he has to wring his hands out so a fireworks show doesn’t start on day one. God, he’s never wanted to wear his flashy costume so much in his life. Anything to get your eyes off of him.

“More of a briefs guy myself,” he offers after a beat, looking at you over his shoulder.

You’re smirking, the start of a giggle on your lips, “Oh, I’m gonna like you.”

Something other than nitroglycerin bubbles in his belly, and Bakugo isn’t quite sure how to feel about it.

It didn’t take long for him to realize that you were a handful and a half.

You never tell him where you’re going, you refuse to keep your phone on anything but silent, and he swears that you’re trying to evade him everywhere you go.

“Dammit,” he grumbles, rolling his eyes as you slip away from him in a crowd.

Bakugo flanks off to the side, barely able to make out the top of your head as you push your way through the marketplace. He memorized your outfit - a pretty sundress and a pair of sandals, purse slung over your shoulder - so he should be able to spot you amidst the others.

He finally makes out your profile, but you’ve changed. There’s now a jacket covering your shoulders, a sun hat on your head. Bakugo narrows his eyes, but despite his rage at losing you, a small smirk works its way on his lips at the fire you have within yourself to try and escape him despite the circumstance.

You’re turning down a side street when you feel your body pressed against the brick wall. A gasp barely leaves your mouth before you lean back and jut your elbow into his solar plexus, stepping on the inside of his foot. A grunt leaves his mouth and you swivel to knee him in the groin, but your knee is caught between a pair of strong hands just as your knee cap brushes the fabric of his suit pants.

“Very funny,” he mutters, hooking his palm around your thigh to ensure you won’t wriggle free.

You push at his shoulders and he’s surprised at the fiery expression on your face, your nose scrunched and brows furrowed, “Get off me!”

Bakugo releases your knee and your foot stomps on his toe again, a bruise already forming. His nostrils flare as he glares down at you. You’re quick to straighten your spine, matching his stare with one of your own.

“So that’s how it’s gonna be, huh?” Bakugo uses his thumb and index finger to tilt your chin upward, “Gonna try to play me like a little shit?”

You’re slapping him before he can process it, “I don’t need your protection. I’m fine on my own.”

Your answer surprises him, but the action of being slapped pisses him off. He growls down at you, “You ungrateful little…”

“Go ahead,” you shrug, pushing your way out of his hold, “leave, just like all the others.”

Bakugo follows behind you, muttering something into his earpiece that you can’t hear. Frustrated tears cloud the edges of your vision, but the sunshine clears your mind as you step back onto the street.

“You forget,” he sidles up next to you, “it’s my job to keep you safe. You run off, I don’t get a paycheck.”

The laugh that parts your lips makes him look down at you, the hat hiding part of your face so he can’t quite make out exactly what you’re feeling. He's never been a bodyguard before, but something tells him that this is going to turn out much different than he expected.

"Good to know as long as my daddy is feeding you money, you'll stalk me like an animal." You sigh, crossing your arms over your body as you walk toward the bridge overlooking the city. "You're lucky, then, all my father knows how to do is shovel money at people."

Something twinges within Bakugo's chest, like an organ begging to pop within his body. He watches as you lean forward against the bridge, your hands wafting in the wind as you wave them around.

If he had to say it, Bakugo would agree that you were pretty. Your frame was perfect, the profile of your face made for a beautiful shadow. Your eyes lit up even underneath the shade of the brim of your hat, and he wants to smack himself for noticing.

"Sorry," you break him out of his trance, "I don't mean to bore you, I know you're not here for my life story. Paycheck only."

There's a hint of hurt in your voice and he becomes curious - is this your normal? Are the only people in your life those who wish to drain your family bank account dry? He certainly can't relate; his family was never wealthy and even now, starting his pro hero journey is far from glamorous. The only reason he has a rooftop apartment is because the agency sponsored it, and Kirishima shares it with him.

Bakugo leans against the bridge, back to the water so he can watch for any threats behind you, "I'm your new best friend, sweetheart. Your daddy pays me to be all up in your business."

You reach out to smack his arm, but this one has much less force than the prior one you landed to his face. He winces dramatically, scrunching his side as if absorbing the impact. You can't help but snicker, tucking your nose against your shoulder.

Bakugo basks in the warmth of the afternoon sun, taking in the golden hour. There are times he wishes he could be fully decked out in his explosive gear, and then there are other times, when his restless heart finds tranquility in the quiet of the mundane.

People pass, wind blows, and yet his body remains at peace.

You’re drunk.

Bakugo hates when you’re drunk.

You’re sloppy and messy and handsy, oh god are you handsy. He’s watching from the bar, paying attention as you slur your words to the bartender and giggle with your best friend beside you. Every instinct in him tells his body to drag your ass back home, but he knows you’d put him through the ringer for it. Plus, that’s not his job anyway. His job is only to keep you safe.

So, as long as you don’t kill yourself stumbling out of the club, he’ll still get paid.

You’re touching his waistline as you pass him, laughing up at him with those bright, glassy eyes you always get after vodka hits your veins. You curl your fingers into his waistband and he has to push every instinct of his deep down so he doesn’t flip you over the bar.

“‘Suki?” you drawl, leaning your body into him so the person behind you can pass.

He tilts his head, acknowledging you in silence. You tug on his belt loops, “Gonna go to the bathr’m, okay?”

You know this means he has to follow you - he has to follow you everywhere.

You slip your hand into his, a habit you’ve picked up when you’re on the other side of sober, and squeeze his palm before tugging him towards the bathroom. You release him before you slip in the door, allowing him to stand guard like a good dog does.

Bakugo counts the seconds in his mind, coming up on six minutes makes his heartbeat a little faster. Once he’s gotten to nine, his palms are sweating. Small fireworks echo on his fingertips, the air scenting of ash as he starts to become worried.

He calls your name, knocking on the door three times consecutively. There’s no response from the other side, save a muffled sound that doesn’t resemble your tone. He crosses his arms over his chest and stamps his foot into the ground, his palms itching to slip into his gauntlets; he’d make much better use of the nitroglycerin collecting on his skin then.

After eleven minutes and thirty-seven seconds, Bakugo pushes the door in.

There’s no sounds of wretching or of peeing, so he’s at a loss. All of the stall doors are open, and your body is nowhere to be found. Bakugo presses his thumb against the small transmitter in his ear, asking the others if they saw you leaving the building.

As he turns, he notices an employee-only door. His feet are carrying him before his mind can catch up, muttering something into the communications unit before curling his palms to fists. He kicks the door in and just barely catches the sight of your body being dragged out the other side, eyes wide as you reach for him.

Bakugo is propelling himself forward with his blasts immediately, a shockwave rippling through the small employee room, but he doesn’t care. Somehow he manages to compose himself long enough to alert the rest of the team.

All he can see is red as he busts down the door. You’re his mission, the one thing that he needed to protect, and his whole being quivers at the idea that he’s failed.

Your voice is muffled but he can still hear you as they drag you down the alleyway. He’s got to make a precise blast so he doesn’t burn you, but still manages to knock the bad guys off their feet.

“Fuckin’ suit,” he mutters, praying to whoever is listening that he’ll be able to wear his suit, or at least some version of it, when he’s on guard duty going forward. Bakugo burns through the sleeves, the cloth turning to ash as he ignites his power.

He smirks, “Hey, dipshits!”

The two holding you turn at the sound of his voice, their faces covered by masks. Bakugo continues to push forward, bright flashes of orange and yellow lighting the alley behind him. He’s laughing maniacally now, because this is what he came for. He came for the bloodlust, he came for the mission. He came for the villains.

“Got ya,” Bakugo mutters before turning his palm to face the guy on your right who's much taller. The explosion knocks all three of you backward, incapacitating the one he targeted. The other scrambles to his feet, yanking on your body to try and drag you toward a black SUV parked on the side of the road not too far away.

You’re fighting back, Bakugo notices. You’re thrashing and screaming, trying to kick him in the shins from your position on the ground. Your whole body is like one big firecracker, arms and legs wailing at the guy. The hero can’t help but feel a swell of pride.

He propels himself forward, flipping in the air to stand tall on the opposite side of the perpetrator, hand held directly in the guy’s face - a threat, not a warning.

Bakugou chuckles, “Where you goin’, shithead?”

There’s a loud crunch of his bones when Bakugo lands a perfect strike between his eyes. He shakes his fists, thinking to himself that he should probably pick boxing back up, and turns to look at you.

The sight of your face smeared with tears, body shaking as you try not to cry. Your chest heaves with emotion as you try to sit up in the alleyway, your body a mess of limbs.

“Hey,” he’s surprisingly gentle as he squats in front of you. “Let me get that thing off you.”

He’s talking about the tape on your mouth. You stop squirming for a moment and he peels the sticky substance away from your mouth. You wince as he yanks it from your hands and feet, throat tight while you wait.

Secure the payload, Bakugo thinks, remembering All Might’s lessons from back at U.A. He let Deku get the better of him back then, but now he’s much more focused and precise. There is less collateral this time.

Bakugo helps you to your feet, holding your hands as you clamber to stand upright. Your spine straightens and he didn’t realize you’d lost your shoes sometime in the struggle, bringing your height below his.

There is a tiny thing within him that twinges at the sight of you, all in disarray.

He goes to ask you how you’re feeling, how you’re holding up, but something in him catches the words like a fish hook in his throat. It reels his concern back in, pulling it to the acid of his belly so it can die there.

Secure the payload.

That’s all you are to him - a paycheck, a payload, a mission.

“Just get me the hell home,” you manage, shoving yourself past him. “I’m sick of this place.”

“The hell?!” Bakugo is shouting now, hands booming at his sides, “You didn’t think that was something you should’ve told me before we started this job?!”

His agent sighs from the other end of the receiver, “Our officers are on a tight leash, they can’t give us any information that might leak.”

“You think I'm a rat!?” Bakugo snaps, his spine erect as he wishes his quirk were warping so he could whoop someone’s ass for keeping this from him.

“No, but if you were tortured, it was possible. These are big syndicates after their family, specifically targeting the daughter.” She takes a pause, waiting to see if the hero might retort. When he doesn’t, she breathes in audibly and continues, “Those were low level thugs at the club a couple of weeks ago. They have no connections, and they weren’t high enough on the food chain to have any information they could give us. Everything was nameless and faceless.”

“I swear to god,” Bakugo paces, ripping his hands through his hair, “I still can’t believe you didn’t think this was something you should’ve fucking told me! I thought I was just looking after some spoiled brat, and now you’re telling me this?!”

He hears his given name called out from your bedroom a few halls over and his attention spikes. The feel of sweat on his skin leads to the expelling of crackling explosions as he turns to walk towards your room.

“You better give me everything,” he seethes before hanging up.

There’s a sarcastic remark sitting on the tip of his tongue as he enters your room, but he’s shocked to find you still asleep. Bakugo steps closer, just to be sure, and something tightens in his chest at the sight of you curled in on yourself, brow tightly knit as you whimper under your breath.

Bakugo turns against any and every instinct in his body as he crouches next to your bed, his palm brushing gently over your back. He can hear Kirishima in his head, mocking him for being soft.

“The great Bakugo Katsuki, brought to his knees by a mere mortal!” Kirishima laughs, throwing his head back. He removes his face guard and boots at the table, his hands on his hips as he stares across the space at Bakugo, “You’ve changed since you started this job, man. I gotta say, I think you caring about others is really great. You’re manning up, dude!”

Bakugo accepts the high five from his friend, but not without a few miniature explosions popping off between their hands as he does so.

Kirishima is stuck clutching his palm to his chest as Bakugo swaggers away, a smirk on his face.

“Maybe I was wrong,” Kirishima sighs, “Maybe you haven’t changed a bit.”

Your bleary eyes bring him back to reality, your hand reaching out to touch his face. You blink slowly, a sleepy grin on your face.

“‘Suki,” you mumble, your cheek pressed into the pillow.

If you were awake, he wouldn’t let you touch him like this. He would keep you at an arm’s length, crimson irises focused on your every move. However, you won’t remember this in the morning, and maybe that’s the only reason that he’s actually leaning into your palm.

“Nightmares again?” he asks.

The phone call from earlier still rings in his head, his agent’s voice reverberating around. He looks at you a little differently now, he thinks, although he’d never admit it aloud.

You’re pouting, your hand falling from his face to tuck back under your chin. You nod and mumble something under your breath that he can’t quite make out, so he shifts closer. Bakugo sighs, “I’m here, all right? No need to have nightmares.”

You nod and pull the covers back to your chin and close your eyes, “Alright, ‘Suki.”

He stays squatted next to you until you’re snoring again, chest rising and falling consistently. He’s not sure why his body does what it does, but he reaches out and smoothes his thumb over the creases in your forehead until your face relaxes in your slumber.

“Fuckin’ dumbass,” he mutters with a grin, pushing your hair away from his face.

As he stands to his feet, he catches the sight of his dumbstruck face in your mirror, and he’s appalled. He’s not scowling, but instead there is the trace of a smile on his lips. Bakugo isn’t sure of the last time he genuinely smiled at something other than the breaking of bones.

Heat gathers in his hands and he has to force himself from blasting the mirror to shards, “Fuckin’ dumbass.”

“Can you find her?”

“No, have you seen her?”

“Last time I saw her, she was headed to the library.”

“And you didn’t think to.. Follow her?”

“Well-”

“Shut up, dumbass,” Bakugo pushes past one of the other bodyguards, shoving towards the direction of the library.

He’s slipping through the doorway to check around the bookshelves for your body. He’s getting ready to call for you when he hears your voice.

“If you wanted to get me alone, all you had to do was ask.”

“Tch,” Bakugo narrows his eyes, looking up.

You’re curled up in the loft, your body wrapped in a blanket with a book in your lap. There’s a small breakfast nook-like area looking out onto the lake in the center of the back lawn, moonlight filtering in through the etched glass.

You tuck your feet underneath yourself and pat the open space next to you, gesturing for him to take a seat. He mutters something into his ear piece before climbing the ladder to join you in the loft. He’s sitting opposite of you, his arms crossed as he looks down at the ground below.

“This whole escaping thing is getting on my damn nerves,” Bakugo snaps at you, nudging your thigh with his boot. “Would it kill you to stay in one place for more than a few seconds?”

Shrugging, you rest your arm on his leg, palm cupping his calf, “But then where would the fun be?”

“I’d love to not have to chase you around for one damn day in my life.” Bakugo licks his lips and rests his head back against the wall, eyes tracking over every square inch of the backyard as he looks out the window. His palms crackle in his lap, itching to be let loose on the world.

“Why did you take this job?”

The question comes out of nowhere, something he wasn’t prepared to have to think about. Bakugo’s voice is gruff when he speaks his answer, “My agent told me my reputation needed some work. Apparently I’m not a fuckin’ icon, or whatever.”

Your laughter doesn’t piss him off as much as it used to. You squeeze his calf and tilt your head back so you’re leaning on the wall, “Oh, you having a little image problem, Sparky?”

Bakugo narrows his eyes at you, but there’s no intent behind it. He sighs, “Your dad donates a lot to our agency. My manager told me to take it. Nothing else to it.”

“You miss the fight, though, don’t you?” Your eyes are swirling with some mixture of curiosity and something else he can’t quite make out. You curl your free hand into a fist in your lap, “I’ll bet beating guys heads in is the best feeling, isn’t it?”

If he wasn’t expecting your initial question, he really isn’t expecting those words when they tumble out of your lips. And he really wasn’t anticipating the utter excitement in your tone, either. A pristine girl like you, fantasizing about bashing villains?

Either you were faking it, or you’re too good to be true.

You chuckle, “I’ve always loved your fighting style, at least what I could see of it. Your quirk is so cool, so useful.”

Your voice is almost wistful now, the edges of your lips upturned in a grin. You’re biting your lip in consideration and his leg feels cold when you remove your palm from it, wringing your hands together in your lap.

The hysteria on the cusp of your voice reminds him of his own mania in battle - the way he bares his teeth when he lets his gauntlets loose; the way his palms crackle as he approaches another guy from behind; the anticipation settled in his chest every time they suit up.

Bakugo tilts his head, “What’s your quirk?”

“I-I don’t have-”

Your voice is too nervous, too high-pitched. He wants to laugh at your obvious lie, but instead he holds up his palm and lets loose a few explosions, sparking the air between the two of you with orange and ash.

The lingering scent in the air reminds you of marshmallows over a campfire, and you realize it’s what you’ve been smelling on him for months. You never paid much attention to how his quirk works, all you’ve ever known is that he has an explosive ability that matches his hot-headed personality.

“My sweat contains nitroglycerin,” Bakugo explains when he notices your look of bewilderment. He finds his face smoothing into a smile as you reach out and grasp him by the wrist. “It’s explosive, obviously. I use my gauntlets in my hero suit to store it so I can use larger impacts to take down buildings or bad guys, or both.”

You brush your thumb over the bumps of his palm, up over his fingers. Quirks have always fascinated you, mostly because your father indulges in every aspect of them save for having one.

“Wow,” you say finally, voice faraway.

He swears your eyes are glittering with the way the moonlight refracts off of the glass of the window. His chest heaves as you push your way closer to grab his other hand out of his lap. The way you trace over the lines in his palms as if they have all the answers makes his shoulders perk with pride.

“When did you get your quirk?” you ask.

“I think I was like, five, or some shit, I don’t remember.” Bakugo can feel himself retreating, his walls shrinking in fear as you get too close. Your body heat mixes with his own and his eyes almost cross at the dizzying feeling of your proximity.

You are chewing on your lower lip and his mind slips in the fog to wonder what it might feel like if you tugged on his mouth like that.

He’s about to stand up and walk away because he can’t- no, he won’t- feel these things for you. You’re a paycheck, an objective, nothing more. Just like the weapon from his U.A. classes - all he has to do is protect you, and his ratings will rise and he’ll be able to fall back into the higher ranks of heroes. And then he’ll be able to leave.

“My parents don’t have quirks,” your laugh is dry, much unlike your giggles from earlier. You are smiling but it’s not making your eyes wrinkle at the edges like usual, “I think that’s why my dad invests so much money into them; maybe he’s projecting. Or maybe he’s living vicariously through his investments, I’m not sure.”

Bakugo hears you suck in a breath and there’s a pain in his chest at the sound, “When I got my quirk, my dad was so scared of me. As soon as it started showing, he built me my own wing in the house and brought Miles in to take care of me.”

Your hands fall away from his, tucked into your midsection so you can worry over your shirt as you speak. “I don’t think I’ve had a real conversation with my dad since I was little, not anything that mattered, anyway. When he shipped me off to college, he would call every now and then, but all we talked about were the heroes he was betting on.”

You lick your lips and laugh again, this one turning dark. Your chest is caving in as all of the memories of your father’s distance play on loop, threatening to pull you under again.

“No one knows I have a quirk,” you admit breathlessly, finally looking him in the eyes. “I think it’s his twisted way of keeping me, and everyone else, safe.”

Bakugo wants to hold you, any part of you, but there is a pin still in his body’s grenade, keeping him from you. He swallows the growing lump in his throat and tries his hardest to control the sweat in his palms at your story. He’s never heard your voice this chilling before; normally you are a sunbeam incarnate, walking around brightening everything you touch, even if you’re a bit mischievous sometimes.

“I can manipulate organic matter,” you say. “Anything living.”

The reality of what all facets of that statement can mean makes Bakugo’s muscles ache.

You’re chuckling at the expression on his face, “Yeah, exactly. Of course you’d want to keep me hidden away.”

“No,” he shakes his head.

As if to prove to him that you’re nothing more than a liability, you raise your palm in the air and summon the flowers sitting in the vase just a few feet away from you forward. The budding floral prongs are twirling in tandem with the motions of your fingers. In a display of your power, you make the flowers walk as if their stems were legs, up Bakugo’s thigh and over his knee, all the way down to the toe of his boot.

Once they’re close enough to you, you levitate them in the air again, the pink and yellow petals beautiful even in the shadows of the night.

Bakugo’s eyes go wide as the flowers begin to lose their color, the shades of spring colors beginning to desaturate until they’re nothing but brown, wilted buds. You curl your hand into a fist and the flowers ball up accordingly, mushing together until they are no longer recognizable.

“Holy shit,” Bakugo’s eyes track the object as you release your control over it and the squashed flowers drop with a thud into your palm.

You’re waiting for him to become frightened of you, to look at you with wide eyes as he fears for his own life. That’s what your father did when you showed the beginning signs of your quirk. He shoved you in a box, frightened you’d turn out something fierce, something evil.

“Do it again.”

Your voice catches in your throat, a short gasp parting your lips, “Wh-Wha-”

“You’re a fucking badass,” Bakugo shifts closer to you, the personal space he usually keeps between the two of you forgotten. “Can you do it again? With something else?”

“Y-You want me…” Your eyes are wide, pupils dilating as you gaze up at him. He’s smiling like a madman but it makes your heart light on fire, “Sure.”

You spend the next hour or so grabbing different living things from around the room, twisting them and manipulating them. Bakugo’s eyes follow your every movement, every motion. His jaw hangs slightly open as he watches on in fascination, your quirk a new experience for him.

You turn to look over the balcony, wondering if there might be anything you can grab from down there, when you feel his chest press against your back. He’s just leaning up to scout the area, but his chin might as well rest on your shoulder with his closeness. You pinpoint a basket of fruit at the bottom of the stairs near the entryway and you concentrate to see what types of fruit there are.

“Apple or pear?” you ask, turning just enough to look him in the eyes beside you.

He tilts his head, “Pear, why the hell not?”

You tug two pears up over the railing, dropping one of them into his hand, the other in your lap. There’s a crunching sound as he digs his teeth into the fruit, some of the juice landing on your shoulder. It tickles, and you go to wipe it off, but Bakugo beats you to it, brushing his thumb over the exposed skin.

The realization that you’re practically in his lap makes your chest constrict. You swallow and reach down to pluck the pear from your lap, turning the fruit over in your hands as a distraction.

“So, your dad was scared of you?” he asks, resting his chin on his palm so he can get a better look at you.

You take a chance and lean yourself back into him, his shoulders thudding against the wall at the impact. Your head tilts upward so you can look at the ceiling, the feel of his collarbone behind the crown of your head somehow comforting.

“He thought I would go on a killing spree or something,” you shrug, your thumbs busy with the pear in your hands. The memories you have of your father are not pleasant, what little you have.

Bakugo hikes his leg up so you can get more comfortable, giving you more space between his thighs. He tells himself that this is just part of the mission - he needs to get to know you so you’ll trust him, so you’ll stop running away. It'll make his job easier. That’s all this is.

You turn the fruit over, inspecting every speckle, “Just like with the flower, I can manipulate the life force inside of a person. I could kill them, if I were strong enough."

"Strong enough?" he echoes through his chewing. "What the hell does that mean?"

You laugh, cradling the pear in your palm like a child, "I was never trained on how to use my quirk. My father was so afraid of me that he forbade me to use it in front of others. I cared enough about him to respect his wishes; I wouldn't have forgiven myself if he lost business over my weird quirk."

"Your quirk isn't weird, dumbass," Bakugo's hand smooths down your hair from the back.

You laugh and look up at him, turning your body to lean against his thigh, "Thought I was a badass?"

He rolls his eyes, "You can be both."

You're tugging on his hands again, circling your fingers delicately around his wrists before yanking them forward. A strangled sound comes from the back of his throat at the sudden contact but you don't seem to notice.

Holding his palms outward, you rest your hands so the backs of yours are pressed to the insides of his hands, his much larger anatomy dwarfing your own. You're smiling but he's not sure why.

"I've wondered what it's like to be you," your voice is quiet now, the wonder giving way to sleep. "It must be amazing."

So Bakugo details all the stories he can remember. Eventually, after a few lines recounting the battles he's been in, your hands drift down from hovering in midair and he finds himself following suit. Your fingers are cold and for a moment he wonders if it's a side effect of your quirk.

He curls his fingers around yours when he isn't using his hands to tell you about a mission, the warmth from his palms leeching onto your own hands to keep you from freezing over.

It isn't too long before he hears the change in your breathing; it's slower, heavier now. Your body is more slumped against him that it was before and he knows that you've fallen asleep.

"Quirk must take it outta ya, huh?" Bakugo brushes his thumb down the length of your forearm. He sighs and looks down at how your body just so perfectly lines up with his, "Fuckin' hell...what're you doing, man?"

The last bit of his resolve crumbles when a small sigh parts your mouth and you turn so your cheek is pressed into his pectoral, one hand coming to curl around the fabric of his shirt and the other keeping his palm captive in your tiny grasp.

Bakugo can tell how much smaller than him you are; he could easily overpower you to get out of this situation, he knows he could. But for some reason, he doesn't want to.

For once in his life he really feels like he's doing something good, something wholesome. His body enraptures you like a cage and he keeps his eyes on the back yard, ready to act if there are any intruders. A fierce feeling prickles at the skin on the back of his neck and he wants to bare his teeth for some reason, but he tames the feral instinct before he can dig his hands into you to make sure you're safe.

Bakugo, for the first time since he met you, starts to wonder if maybe this could be more than just a mission.

You’re sure you’re not supposed to overhear his conversation, but he told you to stay close. So, really, you’re just doing as you’re told. Which is a pretty big achievement for you.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding, right?” Bakugo is laughing sadistically into the phone receiver, tossing his head back. You’re sure his laughter is to combat the growl that’s sitting in his chest. He’s hushed as he speaks, “You can’t pull me from this assignment now. There’s two international events in the next month and she’s got public outings. You won’t be able to train anyone new-no, I said no. You can’t-listen...I swear to god…”

The slamming of his phone shut startles you, but you’re able to cover your mouth with your hand before your squeak tumbles out. You press your back into the wall so he can’t discover your sneaking. When his loud footsteps come closer, you try to shrink down the hall, pretending like you’d just started to wander this way.

Bakugo steps out of the room and really, did anyone ever consider just how attractive he was before they assigned him to your team?

He’s tall, much taller than you, and built with dense muscle and thick sinew. His shoulders trim down to slimmer hips, but that is only misleading as his pelvis gives way to full thighs and rounded calves. You’re thankful they allowed him to stop wearing suits after his first couple of weeks - now he’s in a more relaxed outfit - black long sleeve t-shirt with a pair of jeans that lead into his signature black combat boots.

“Katsuki!” you call, stepping forward.

After that night, falling asleep against him in the loft, things have shifted. You’ve noticed that he’s more physical with you - whether it be with closeness, or with touch. He’s not afraid to brush up against you, and he doesn’t recoil when your body comes into contact with his own. Instead, it’s almost as if he’s welcoming it.

It’s a gentle hand guiding you towards an exit, or his palm squeezed in yours when you’re on the wrong side of sober and trying to get out of a bar. In the car, on the way home, he doesn’t mind if you fall asleep against his shoulder.

His brows perk when he hears your voice, crystalline eyes snapping up from his phone to make contact with your gaze. You swear the beginning of a smile touches the corners of his lips.

“Do you think we can go to the market before we get ready to go out of town?” you ask, pouting just enough to make him consider.

Bakugo puffs a breath out of his mouth, his jaw hanging open slightly. You reach forward and wrap your arms around his back, running your hands up his shoulders with a bright grin on your face, “C’mon! Live a little.”

He’s rolling his eyes but walking forward with his arm slung around your shoulder, “Whatever. Better buy me somethin’ real nice.”

“Of course!” You bob up on your toes to kiss his cheek, “Anything you like.”

His face is bright red, but you’re too busy thinking about the market to notice. As soon as you walk into the common area, his arm retreats from your form and his spine goes rigid. You know that things have to be more strict in front of your father’s staff and his coworkers. They have a short conversation before the others are grabbing their weapons and communications units, stepping out the front door to load up the SUVs.

It’s not long before you’re walking the cobblestone paths of the market, very reminiscent of your first escape attempt. The breeze is blowing, clouds offering some shade but not much. You’re in another one of your brightly colored sundresses, hair flowing freely in the wind. You twirl in front of him, “Hey, ‘Suki, do you think you’d ever do this full time?”

He tilts his head in silent questioning, and you elaborate, “I-I mean, if my daddy could pay you enough, do you think you could be my bodyguard for a long time?”

The color in his face drains just enough for you to know that what you heard on the phone earlier was true - he’s leaving you.

“Listen,” his voice is gruff, “I’m working to be a pro-hero, alright? I don’t have time to fuckin’ babysit for the rest of my life.”

Your heart twists in your chest but you force a smile anyway, “Yeah, that’s what I figured. I know I can be a handful, and not nearly as much fun as blasting villains.”

The slight downturn in your tone makes his chest feel hollow. Bakugo knows that he shouldn’t phrase things the way he does, but he’s on communication devices with the others and he can’t have them knowing that he’s fallen complete hook, line, and sinker for you.

You’re walking down the side of the road when an idea comes to you - you know just what to do to cheer him up, for old time’s sake. It’s been a while since you’ve tried to evade him for real.

Throwing a teasing glance over your shoulder, you wink at him before slipping away from him, blending in with the others around you. You manage to grab a ball cap off of a vendor table, leaving them a large bill to take care of the cost. A quick stop at a food vendor leaves you in the wind as Bakugo walks past your body, eyes high as he steps through the crowds to try and find you.

Katsuki is frantic - it feels like someone has just pumped ice water into his veins. His feet can’t carry him fast enough. If it weren’t for the phone call earlier, he might not have allowed fear to clutch at him like a vice, but the words of the officer on the other line ring loudly in his head.

“There have been talks in the underground of a possible kidnapping attempt. Soon.”

His saliva collects like a ball of tape in his throat and he can’t swallow it down. He speaks into his comms but he’s not sure he’s talking in full sentences or syllables. His body carries him down every alleyway, every side street, until he catches a glimpse of the tail of your dress curving down a street across the market.

Relief floods his body and Bakugo jogs to the dead end road, a sarcastic retort on his lips about how you almost got a rise out of him when his eyes catch onto something at the end of the alleyway.

There, pinned to the wall by a nail, is a swatch of your dress, covered in blood with the words don’t come looking written in crimson liquid.

Acid churns in his stomach. Heat settles behind his eyes. Explosions echo off of his hands.

“Wrong fuckin’ move,” he grits his teeth, narrowing his eyes as he snatches the cloth in his hands. He looks up to the roof where he’s sure some villain with a quirk has escaped with you, “Holy shit, wrong move.”

The past few hours have been nothing but a painful blur for you. There’s crusted blood on your head from where someone has slammed a blunt object to knock you out. Your wrists and ankles are burning from the cuffs wrapped around them, the chains echoing in the warehouse-like space. Your throat is parched from trying to scream through the gag in your mouth and the sobs that rack your body.

It was just supposed to be a game, something to cheer up his spirits, your running off. You never intended for it to turn into something that’s probably spiking his blood pressure and getting his ear chewed off. Another bout of tears sweeps through your lids when you realize that Katsuki is going to get in trouble due to your immaturity.

Someone has brought you a pale of water, but it’s so demeaning that all you can do is kick it across the warehouse. You’re surprised they’re allowing you to have your vision, given that they’ve taken everything else from you.

“We’ll get a hefty ransom for her,” a thug off in the corner mutters to his counterpart. They stare over at you and you feel violated just by their gaze. You curl yourself inward, trying to hide as much of your body as possible.

The taller of the two slaps the original speaker on the back of the head, “You touch her, you’re dead. You heard what the boss said. No nasty shit.”

Your jaw quivers as you think of what they could do to you, all tied up like this. You’re helpless. The realization multiplies the well of tears settled in the brim of your eyelids. They laugh at your tears and you want to kick each of them between the legs until they beg for mercy at your hands.

If Bakugo were here, he’d have already freed himself. He would have never gotten captured in the first place. Now you want to kick yourself. How could you be so careless? You were too wrapped up in your childish, foolish game to realize you were being tailed. Katsuki would be disappointed in you.

“The fuck you cryin’ about?” the taller thug asks. He cracks his knuckles before stepping to you, squatting down. He tucks his hand roughly under your chin to pull your attention up so you’re looking him in the eye. He smirks, “Gonna give you somethin’ to cry about, bitch.”

A set of slaps resounds in the empty room, both of your cheeks stinging at his harsh motion.

Your immediate reaction is to whimper, but you stamp it down in favor of being seen as strong. You grit your teeth together and snarl up at him, eyes hard as you glare. He chuckles, gripping you by the throat until your eyes bug out of your head, “Oh, you stupid bitch. Quit your whinin’.”

He slings you to the floor and your wound pounds in pain, reopening and leaving a gateway for a fresh stream of blood to trickle down your neck. You want to cradle the spot, do anything to try and dilute or soothe the pain, but your hands are stuck behind your back.

The two thugs are arguing about something, but the last thing you see is the two of them looking down at you as your vision fades to black.

The next time you wake, your body is in a chair, apparatus attached to every part of your body. Your mind is foggy and you hear someone calling Katsuki’s name so you start to search for him. Tears leak from the corners of your eyes when you realize that it’s your voice.

“Shut up or I’ll gag you again,” a brute voice hovers over your shoulder.

There are still black spots covering most of your vision, so you can’t see who's speaking to you. Your nose itches and you try to move your shoulder only to find your neck is locked into a metal casing. You swallow, your throat bobbing against the cold metal.

A man in all black, face hidden behind an intricate, colorful mask, stands in front of you. His demeanor is nothing if not calm and collected, a gun attached to his hip although you suspect he has some sort of quirk as well. He crosses his arms over his chest as he looks you over, as if he were sizing you up even though you’ve not managed to put up any sort of a fight this entire time.

“How much do you think your daddy will pay to have you safe?” he drawls, squatting down so you can look down at him.

He swivels a knife out of his pocket, turning the blade over before pressing it to his tongue, “I’m thinking a fat stack of paper will keep you alive. Don’t you agree?”

“Go to he-ah!” You’re stopped as the tip of the knife presses to the inner part of your thigh. Your nostrils flare and you glare down at him, shifting in your seat to futilely pull away from his weapon.

“I heard your bodyguard is kind of sweet on you,” he smirks, twirling the blade so the point stays connected to your skin, “and I’m sure he wants to see you safe.”

Your teeth chatter but you bare your canines anyway, “You’re going to wish you’d never been born when Katsuki gets ahold of-”

“Katsuki, huh? You’re on given names now?” The man stands to his feet, slinging the blade around before tucking it back into his belt. He chuckles, “You pregnant with his kid, too?”

You spit on him as he bends over in front of you, face mere inches from your own. It pisses him off to the point where he snatches you by the hair, pulling you forward so your esophagus is crushed by the metal chain around your throat. You can’t breathe, choking at the sudden impact. You see stars and you can’t do anything but thrash in the chair, arms and legs bruising on contact of the latches keeping your body as still as possible.

The one thing that you can make out above everything else is the coolness of metal pressed to your temple. It is not sharp, so you have to assume that there’s a gun to your temple. His voice is in your ear, low and slithering, “I’ve already taken photos of your living body, so I don’t need proof of life anymore. I’m being a gentleman by keeping you alive, you see? So don’t piss me off.”

“That’s not bein’ a fuckin’ gentleman.”

A gasp parts your lips and the thug turns to see Bakugo Katsuki standing in the doorway, a littering of unconscious bodies in his wake.

He glares with his ruby red eyes, tilting his head in a way that almost feels patronizing. You want to claw at the hand around your throat but your wrists are still tied down. Your face is damp with a mixture of tears and sweat, your voice trying to project despite the pain of your esophagus.

“S’okay,” Katsuki looks you in the eyes and you believe him.

“You take another step closer and I swear I will blow her brains all over the side of this place,” the man seethes from behind you. As the gun digs deeper into your temple, you whimper, a sob shaking your shoulders.

Bakugo lurches forward at the sound, hand outstretched, “You fucker! Let her the fuck go before I kill you right here!”

The villain smirks, “I thought you were Ground Zero, a pro hero?! You’d dare to taint your pristine record with little ole me? Wow, I’m flattered.”

You shake your head just enough to tell him to back away, and he does so by putting both of his feet on the ground, hands in the air. He’s making eye contact with you again, irises desperate, “You remember that night in the library?”

You blink a few times, taking in what he’s said. What was so significant about that night?

“Remember what you told me?” he leads you, his jaw quivering under the stress of his teeth. “About what your father was afraid of?”

“Oh please!” The man laughs maniacally but you’re not focused on him anymore. Your brain is trying to work, albeit a bit slow, to recall the words you spoke that night. Your eyes track over his face but his mouth is set into a hard line, “The flowers, baby, remember the flowers?”

The villain is mocking Bakugo again, but his voice cuts off in his throat when he feels the tips of his extremities begin to go numb.

Your lower lip is quivering, blood seeping out of your nose at the strain. Tears sit still in your eyes as you manipulate your fingers to try to find the source of the organic material you want to manipulate. You take a gasping breath, eyes straining in your sockets as you pull pressure closer towards you.

“What the-”

Your other hand twists and you hear the crushing sound of his esophagus as you manipulate the blood pumping through his veins. Your body is so unused to the stress of using your quirk that it makes your mouth hang open in hopes of getting enough oxygen to your brain, your bones grating against one another.

In trying to turn his hand holding the gun away from you, you have to dig deep, imagining the cells in his body so you can manipulate them. The chipping of his bones resonates in your ear, but the pressure of the gun is released from your temple. In turn, you feel a new bout of blood leak from every orifice of your face - eyes, mouth, nose.

Your vision goes black and your ears ring with the sound of an explosion. There are screams in the back of the room, but a quick thud tells you that someone has been rendered helpless.

“Hey,” the voice is calm in front of you, but you can’t turn it off. Your body craves the manipulation of something else, your quirk swirling around you like a dark shadow, begging you to hurt somebody else.

A pair of hands presses to your cheeks and your jaw drops at the contact. You turn your hands and you feel a new patch of skin ghosting under your fingers. The blood pumping through this one is hotter, faster. Your jaw strains as you grind your teeth together in concentration.

You hear Bakugo cough and your vision clears enough to realize that it’s him you have in your quirk’s grasp. Your hands fall to your lap as you relent, a cough parting his mouth as he lurches forward.

Katsuki uses his fingers to wipe the blood off of your face, “Holy hell. You really are a badass.”

You barely have time to register the words before your body passes out from exhaustion.

This time, when you roll your head, you’re still held in someone’s arms. You lean your head back and blink blearily, “K-Ka-Suki?”

You hear his voice, but he’s not talking to you. He’s angrily whisper-shouting at someone else you can’t see. You try to raise your arm to touch his face, slap him, whatever it takes to get his attention. Your whole body aches and you just want to go back to sleep.

“I don’t care what you have to move, just fuckin’ move it!” is the last thing that you hear before the silence returns.

You try to call to him again and this time you’re able to make out his eyes as he looks down at you. He’s carrying you somewhere, that much you know, but you’re not quite sure where you’re going. The relief that floods his irises, lightening them, makes your heart flip in your chest.

“Where’re we?” you ask in a slur.

Bakugo chuckles and you hear a door shut, “We’re back home.”

“Home,” you murmur, your head lolling into his chest. What does home mean to you now? Surely it doesn’t mean that big mansion that you’ve been a prisoner in most of your adult life.

You force your hand to inch upward from your lap to his chest, your palm seeking the heat of his body. Sniffling, you breathe in the scent of a fireside and you desperately want to be on a beach, in a hammock, as he holds you tight. Your fist curls around his shirt and he looks down at you again, taking in the pallor of your skin and the way your breath comes in short bursts.

Your body shifts in his arms and you whimper at the loss of contact as he displaces you onto a bed. Your head hits a pillow but you’re trying to sit up right after, grasping in thin air for something of his that you can hold onto.

“Lay down, idiot,” Bakugo grunts in annoyance, pushing you down by the shoulders. “You’re fuckin’ spent. You need to chill.”

Your eyes finally open as you feel your shoes removed from your feet. The way your ankles try to swivel sparks pain behind your eyelids, the raw splotches of skin from struggling against the cuffs more prevalent now than before.

“I told you to fucking chill.”

You do as he says then, your body unable to fight back any longer. You are more focused on trying to keep yourself from becoming a blubbering mess in front of him. Using your quirk took a lot of strength and focus, but now all you want to do is curl into a ball and cry yourself to sleep.

Bakugo’s palm is against your cheek, “I think you need a bath.”

“Mhm,” you can feel the crusted blood on your face and neck, sweat mixed in so your dress sticks to every part of your body it touches.

He chuckles, “I’ll go get Miles.”

“No,” you snatch him by the sleeve, “p-please, don’t go.”

You wince at the exertion of your muscles but the pleading look in your eyes must do it for him because he buckles, “I’ll go run the water.”

It’s another few minutes before he emerges from the bathroom suite to help you to your feet. You sway a little as the warmth from the steam in the room hits you directly in the face. Your eyes cross and he has to steady you with his palms on your waist.

You go to step into the tub still fully clothed when he stops you, “Uh, don’t you think-”

Your eyes can’t focus on anything, so Katsuki presses his palms to both of your cheeks and forces your eyesight to zero in on him. He says something and you reach out to grip his shirt in your hands, fisting the fabric as tight as you can manage in this state.

“D-Do you want my help?” he asks, cheeks burning. You nod, turning so the ties of your dress are where he can reach. You don’t think anything of it as his fingertips hesitate at your back, his palms threatening to burst with nitroglycerin.

Eventually, your dress falls away and you’re left bare in front of him. He takes you by the hand to guide you to the huge tub in the center of the room, full to the brim with warm water and bubbles. You wince as you step into the water, the heat from the bath making your open wounds twinge with pain. Swallowing, you submerge yourself entirely, only your nose to the top of your head remaining visible.

“Shit,” Bakugo swears as the water immediately tinges red with the blood that coated your body. He picks up a rag and gently swipes over your skin.

Bakugo has never considered himself soft. He is not gentle, he is not kind. However, all of his inhibitions about himself completely fly out the window when you’re involved. He’s sure he’s never been this caring with his own body. He winces when he has to scrub particularly hard at certain spots, the mix of blood and sweat cementing patches of red to your skin.

After he’s done with your body, he starts to work on your face. He has to use a new rag, one unsaturated with grime. His fingers are timid as he brushes under your eyes and around your nose and mouth. The pad of his thumb ghosts over your lower lip, his palm flat against your neck.

Your eyes are wide, pupils blown as you glance up at him. He shakes his head, “I can’t believe you.”

Bakugo has to grab the shower head to work on your hair. You feel his fingers nudging through your tresses for a while before the water turns off and he unplugs the tub. The water retreats from the bath and your shoulders go cold.

“C’mon,” he murmurs, eyes on your face as he helps you stand.

He pats you dry and you fumble around your room for a new set of clothes. As he pulls the shirt over your head, his palms brush your arms and you find yourself wanting to melt into him. You have to fight the trembling of your lower lip when he takes a step back from your; your body is empty at the loss of his touch.

Katsuki grunts, shaking his head, “I-I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be,” you’re able to manage words, your voice hoarse from disuse and exhaustion. You swallow and reach out to him, but he backs away from you.

“I had one job, one thing to do, and I fucked it up. I failed at keeping you safe.” His fists curl up tight in front of him, but you still see the explosions muffled in his grip. He turns his head, “I’m leaving tonight.”

A single tear slips down your cheek and you cradle your arms to your chest, the bright red rings of raw skin easy to see in stark contrast to your dark sleep clothes. Bakugo gets just enough of a glimpse of them and knows that he can’t be here any longer, he can’t watch his failures play on a loop in front of him in the form of you.

“I ran away,” you whisper, looking down at your hands. “I-I did this.”

You allow a sob to break the seam of your lips, your body shuddering so hard that you fall to your knees. You cover your face with your hands, “I’m so sorry, Katsuki. I-I’m so stupid. You’re right, I’m nothing but a dumbass.”

“Hey,” he cradles you at the elbows, “no, don’t do that shit.”

“It’s the truth, and you know it!” You shove at his shoulders meagerly, falling back from the force of your own push. “I should have never run away. I should have listened.”

Katsuki tugs your head forward, cradling your body against his own, “Damn right you should’ve listened to me.”

“I’m sorry, ‘Suki,” you murmur into the skin of his neck.

He tilts your head upward with the gentle tug of your chin between his thumb and forefinger. Bakugo’s mouth is pressed into a fine line as he takes a short breath, “Me too. I shouldn’t have let you get out of my sight.”

A silent pause stretches between the two of you as you look into one another’s eyes, short breath passing through your lips. Katsuki’s hand threads into your hair and his eyes travel to each feature of your face as if he were memorizing it. You turn your face to flatten your mouth against his wrist, his pulse thudding solidly under your lips. The warm aroma that results from his quirk makes you dizzy in the best way; you could get drunk off of the sweet, fiery scent if you let yourself stay this close for too long.

Your eyelashes flutter when he slides you with a hand on your hip so you’re completely in his lap, your knees on either side of his body. He is warm and it is welcoming, your still damp hair sending chills down your spine as the cool breeze of the night sweeps in through the barely open window.

Finally, his voice breaks, “I-I thought I lost you.”

“Katsu’...” you shake your head and tears well up in your eyes.

You can’t take it anymore. You tilt your head further upward and press your lips to his. As soon as you arch into him, Katsuki is wrapping his arms around your body, bruising your mouth with the intensity of his kiss. His palms hold you steady - one on the back of your head and the other splayed out across the center of your back.

It is painstakingly quiet, the only sounds echoing off of your walls are the gentle smacking noises your mouths make as you part only to come back together. Your hands can’t get enough of him, searching the planes of his shoulders for somewhere to dig your fingernails into. You gasp as his tongue presses to the seam of your lips, leaving you wide open for him to invade your space.

His whole body is hot, steaming, as he palms at you to keep you close. Your cheeks heat, bright red at the proximity of him. Bakugo angles your head so he can thoroughly map out your mouth with his tongue and teeth.

You pull away just enough to breathe, “I never doubted you, not for a minute.”

Katuki’s eyes are wide, irises blown to hell when he hears those words fall from your lips. His chest constricts and the threat of an explosion curls in the palms of his hands. He has to stamp it down, because he doesn’t want to hurt you, but you do feel the increasing heat on your back.

“I knew you’d find me,” you brush a hand over his cheek, pushing his hair away from his face. You have tears streaming down your face, but he’s sure you’ve never been more beautiful to him than you are now, in this very vulnerable moment.

You chuckle, “You’re my hero.”

A growl opens his lips and you barely get a moment to suck in a breath before he’s devouring you again.

He’s been labeled a hero by his school, by the media, by a costume designer. He has an agent and a PR team and a set of sidekicks he’s training. He’s getting money, fame, and yet - in this moment, you uttering those words, releases something primal in him. The need to protect you washes over him like a wave - how did he think he could ever trust anyone else with your care? Would any of them try to keep you safe as ferociously as he would?

“I’m not leavin’ your fuckin’ side,” he mumbles as his mouth trails over your jaw, fingers tugging on your hair gently to get you to bare your throat to him. His tongue swipes over your jugular and your eyes screw shut, “No one’s taking you from me ever again.”

Your mouth hangs open, pants of needy air puffing out of your lips. You hold him by the back of his head, fingers wound in his hair, egging him on. You whimper when he bites the curve of your shoulder, but the way your hips roll forward affirms him that he’s doing something right.

“Fuck,” Bakugo mutters, picking you up with his arms around your waist, “fuckin’ hell.”

Your eyes are trained on him as he walks you to the bed. You watch his eyes dart over the space behind you so he can be sure he’s not bumping you into anything, keeping you safe even now, even as he wants to raw up your little body with his own set of bruises. Your legs stay latched around his waist, tugging him closer to you when it feels like he may pull away.

Kastuki shakes his head, “I’m right here.”

Tears well up in the corner of your eyes from the softness of his voice alone; you don’t know what you would have done if he hadn’t been the one to find you. Your hands palm at his face, thumbing over his cheekbones to try and memorize the layout of his face like a blueprint.

“Shh,” he hushes you, leaning down to kiss either of your eyelids, “stop cryin’, dummy.”

“You were right,” you shake your head as the realization dawns over you. “You can’t stay. You have other, better things to do. Your job isn’t to babysit me, Katsuki. You need to be a hero. You ne-”

Another kiss cuts your rambling short, his mouth harsh when he tugs on your lips. His teeth nip at your lower lip, “Don’t tell me what to do.”

Both of his palms slide under your shoulders, pushing you with the heels of his hands so your chest is pressed completely to him, his body aching to feel your own. He kisses you until your mouth is aching, your chest begging for breath. Your wrists and ankles start to burn, the reminder of your eventful night biting at your skin like an animal.

You wince and Bakugo pulls away, searching your face for the reason of your sudden movement.

“Oh shit,” he lowers you back to the mattress, tugging on your arms so he can unwrap your bandages to inspect your wounds.

Once he sees the injuries, his body begs to light on fire again, his rage bubbling like acid in his stomach. His lip curls into a snarl and he squeezes his eyes shut, your bloody body projected onto the backs of his eyelids.

“Will you stay with me?”

Your request interrupts his self-deprecating thoughts. He can see the glistening of tears on your face, feel the quivering of your body as your nerves get the better of you. Bakugo wants to protest, he wants to tell you that he needs to blow off some steam, but with the gentle pout and quiver of your lip, he’s completely forgotten his desire to blow a hole in every bad guy he can find tonight.

Katsuki wraps your wrists back in the bandages, taping them securely before leaning back, glancing over you as if it were the last time he would ever see you.

Before you can protest or start rambling again, he lowers himself down to curl around your body, holding your head to his chest. You cradle your arms between the two of you, looking down at your fingers.

“My father was right,” you swallow, curling your hands to fists. “I-I wanted to kill that guy. I...I almost hurt you.”

Bakugo nudges his knee against your thigh, “As if, I just didn’t want to blast your head off.”

You want to laugh, but the sound is stuck in your throat. He senses your hesitation and tilts your head back with his thumb under the sensitive patch of skin just beneath your chin, “Hey. You did what you had to do. Power is hard to control sometimes.”

He kisses your forehead, your skin smoothing under his warm mouth. You attempt to keep your lips from quivering with the threat of tears, “My quirk is scary, Katsuki.”

“Everything is scary if you let it scare you,” he mumbles, nudging his nose over your own. Your eyes flutter shut and you turn so you can kiss him again. He chuckles against your lips, “You scare me, sometimes. Or rather, the idea of you.”

You know that he’s just affirming what you’ve said - of course you’re scary. You have a quirk that allows you to manipulate a person’s body. You can snap someone’s neck with a simple twist of your wrist.

“Not like that, stupid,” Bakugo nips your jaw to keep you out of your own head. He takes a deep breath and slips his palm between yours, curling his fingers against your knuckles. “I mean, you hold me so high, when you look at me, I get scared. I can’t live up to this idea of what you think I can do. I’m not this perfect hero, I’m not this great guy.”

He licks his lips, “I want to burn everyone I’m with so they’ll stay away, but you’re different. And that scares the shit out of me.”

Your mouth parts at his declaration, words hanging on your tongue. You’re not sure how to respond. Bakugo loved seeing your quirk when it was being used on flowers and fruit, but now that it was used on a person - how did that not frighten him? How was it the way you looked at him that shook him to his core, and not the reality that you could snatch his blood vessels from his body, that you can control his muscles that sit under his skin?

“I told you, baby, you’re a badass. Okay? How could I ever get scared of someone who pushes me to be better?” Bakugo is smiling now, genuinely grinning, and that takes all of your nerves and pushes them away. You mimic his expression, squeezing his palm with gentle pressure so as to not aggravate your wounds.

“Now, c’mon, you little shit, close your eyes and get some sleep.” Bakugo tucks your head under his chin as he toes off his boots, kicking them off the bed. His mouth is in your hair, muffled as he speaks, “Or else I’ll knock you out myself, got it?”

“Sir yes sir,” you say through a yawn.

His body tenses under your words and he seethes, “Careful with that.”

You smirk, nipping your teeth against the thin skin of his neck just over his jugular, “Yes sir.”

“Ah, fuckin’ hell.”

a/n: lol i am so mean i’m sorry! also.. if you would like a part two, lemme know and i’ll consider it :-)

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ashleyswrittenwords · 4 years ago

Text

Ballad of Bounty Hunters & Outlaws

Wild West LOZ AU

I’m slowing down one of my AUs and apparently moving onto another one already. Will I make a bunch of disjointed oneshots and inevitably put them on ao3? Yeah, probably.

I stole this AU from @kajuelle :)

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There was a moment where Zelda had thought of herself as smart.

A bright mind that was intelligent enough to memorize his routine from hearing alone. Within a week, she had fine-tuned the man’s schedule down to the minute. She supposed it was odd that he waited a half hour before dawn to relieve himself, even stranger that it sometimes came down to the minute until she heard the sound of scraping boots against wood as he brought himself to a stand outside her inn room’s door. A slight grunt when he stretched and then clicking spurs down the hall.

But she wasn’t about to complain. That morning was the perfect opportunity.

The outhouse was the opposite direction from the stables and her execution was flawless.

Now that confidence was a well running dry very quickly. Zelda’s fervent kicks to her horse’s ribs did little to recover the distance her pursuers were stealing. Panic led her to do things that blue-eyed hick will kill her over; among those reasons was the clear indecision in her steering, causing her fright to bleed over to the horse. That only led to Zelda frantically glancing over her shoulder to see a barrel pointing right at her.

She opened her mouth to scream but it stuck in her throat as her body went airborne.

The ground met her quickly and she rolled several times before coming to a stop. Coming to her knees was an athletic feat, the Earth refused to stay still and by the time she achieved it a short nudge of a boot toppled her back to the dirt.

“Well, ain’t that a cryin’ shame,” a monotone voice talked down to her. She knew who it was from the saloon the night before. Link had directed her away rather quickly under the pretense that they hadn’t been seen, but evidently he was wrong. The eye-patched man didn’t look remotely as forlorn as his words were. “Was sorta hopin’ you’d give us a better chase there, missy.”

That woman with him was suddenly flanking her with a constantly swiveling head as if she has a crick in her neck.

“Come on, Lead. Let’s just-let’s just get it over with real quick like.”

Then Zelda realized she was loading her sawed-off shotgun when it clicked loudly into place.

“He wants her kickin’. That’s the whole reason I came with you because I knew you’d conveniently forget.”

“You shoulda sent Scout, then!” the woman glowered, raising and dropping her hands with an irate speed.

Lead shot her a glare. “Scout woulda fucked it up someway somehow,” he motioned towards Zelda with an empty hand, already walking away to gather the horses. “’sides he should be at the station right now. Load ‘er up and let’s get out of here before we lose daylight.”

Zelda tried kicking the bandit’s hands off her, but her grip on her ankle was like steel.

“Get the fuck off of me!”

“Oh my, little miss princess has got a mouth on her,” she drawled with a lazy grin until it steeply dropped, “She better shut that shit real quick before I lose my patience.”

Zelda shouted obscenities at the woman when her foot alone flipped her over and pressed sharply down on her spine as she untangled some rope. The binds dug brutally into the thin skin of Zelda’s wrists no matter how she thrashed.

Regret bit heavily, especially when the reality of her fall was found in dull aches that were only worsening as the adrenaline ebbed away. Neither of the bounty hunteres were answering her screaming questions until eventually a bandana was forcefully stuffed into her mouth.

She fucked up. Royally.

The woman cackled with something wedged between her teeth.

“Your daddy’s bout to be a sorry sonovabitch.”

The man named Lead busied himself with a lighter, attempts digging himself further into frustration before the clean cut of gunfire sent his hat to his feet. It fluttered to the ground, just at Zelda’s eyelevel.

“Shit,” he hissed, ducking to the dilapidated fence that had stopped Zelda’s horse minutes earlier. “Shit, shit, shit – Turette get down!”

Turette paused mid-tie to pop her head above the horse’s flank. Another shot rang out, promptly spooking it. Once the animal had dashed off, Turette man-handled Zelda into a stand only to push her behind the barrier Lead was at. Green eyes widened as the world turned side-ways once more with the slight glimpse of a galloping horse closing in on them.

Her captors were already positioned with their backs to the rotting wood. The wild look in Turette’s eyes was a stark contrast to Lead’s darkened expression – she seemed almost excited while he bit down on his back molars and twisted around to steady his rifle’s sight. The man barely reeled back from the recoil, flinching quickly when the reaction was splintering wood just above Zelda’s head.

Suddenly, Lead shouted, “Did you tip him off?!”

Turette balked, “Why’re you asking me that? Ask her!”

Both pairs of eyes met Zelda with a ferocity. There was nothing she could say because it was impossible that whoever was on the other end of the gunfight was an ally of hers. Zelda had very few and the ones she trusted had no knowledge of her whereabouts. Perhaps if she hadn’t gone out of her way to abandon the man her father hired to protect her, she wouldn’t be in this position. But he was miles from here and with Zelda’s careful escape there was nothing to go off in finding her.

Zelda aggressively shrugged her shoulders and tried her best to mirror their anger. She didn’t owe them a damn thing.

The distant sounds of a horse weren’t so far off now. Its galloping had slowed to an abrupt stop. Lead and Turette shared a glance as the rider dismounted, noisily making a show of patting his panting horse.

“I knew you two were a cowardly lot, but couldn’t we have done this a little closer to town?”

The lazy arrogance made Zelda jolt. Turette locked eyes with her quickly and the click of a decision was made. If not for the gag, she would have gasped at how roughly the woman brought her to a stand. The cold double barrel of a shotgun pressed painfully underneath Zelda’s chin, forcing her head to tilt back.

Another gun was trained on them only a few feet away, except now Link let his aim droop. A red bandana was tied just above his nose to keep the dust at bay. The eyes just under the brim of his hat narrowed.

“I wouldn’t be so liberal with that gun there if I were you, sharp-shooter,” Turette spat, increasing her grip on Zelda for emphasis. “Unless the missus doesn’t need ‘er neck.”

Slowly, he let the revolver fall to his side and a quick yank to the bandana revealed an easy smile.

“Let’s not be too hasty, now,” he spoke gently. “We’re sensible folk. Seems to me that you’ve got something I want and I’ve got something you want.”

With his rifle at his side, Lead positioned himself beside them.

“Mister Lincoln, you know the only thing I want is your body in a bag.”

Link nodded as if that were gospel truth.

“Yeah, well, ya have to understand why I can’t make follow through with that. I was thinkin’ along the lines of what you don’t want,” he gestured at Zelda, “That’s Bosphoramus’s girl. His only little girl. I highly doubt that your attempts at getting to me is worth that old man’s anger.”

Turette cackled and in a sing song voice cut in, “Oh, Link! You really don’t think we know that? It don’t matter who her daddy is, what matters is the pretty penny on her head.”

A piercing glare from Lead cut her laughter short. Link traded his sights on them, the smile wiped completely.

“Who’s got a contract out for her?”

Neither of them resigned to answer, at least not immediately.

He repeated himself more pointedly, “Lead, who called in a contract for Zelda Bosphoramus?”

“It’s a private contract and I don’t think you’re in the position to be making demands like that, outlaw.”

Lead gripped Zelda’s forearm and ripped her away from Turette.

“Make a move and she gets it,” he demanded, already pushing Zelda towards the remaining horse. She yelped against the gag, almost tripping on air. Lead motioned to Turette. “Disarm him and take his horse. The train leaves in less than an hour.”

Zelda resisted but he was stronger than Turette, basically lifting her from the ground. She let out a muffled scream and desperately writhed against his grip on her. Over his shoulder, she watched as Turette reached for his pistol only for Link to twist the weapon around and thwack it across her crown.

She let out a strangled noise, hands scrambling to console the pain bursting from her bleeding head. Link pushed her aside.

Lead hadn’t turned around by the time Link pressed the gun to his temple. The movements were so swift that she hadn’t seen his forearm wrap around the bounty hunter’s neck to drag him down to Link’s height.

“Come on, you know what to do,” Link murmured.

Anger boiled red in Lead’s face, but he did as was told and dropped his arms. Zelda’s feet met the ground, off kilter and stumbling. Turette was still crying out behind them with her shotgun buried in the dirt.

“Now,” Link sneered, spinning Lead around to talk to both bounty hunters. “I’m gonna give y’all the opportunity to get the fuck out of here on two conditions: take that ‘private contact’ off the board and tell whoever put it up that he answers to me.”

The rifle skidded across the dirt. Turette was manically nodding and stumbled to Lead’s horse with bloody hands. The other simply glowered when Link pushed him away, persuaded only by the barrel trained on him.

“You’re scum.”

“Goes both ways, Guardian.”

They left without much fanfare. Link kept his eyes on them until the distance was to his satisfaction. Zelda had taken a seat staring at the ground, hands to bound tightly when he turned to her. She’d seen him angry before, but nothing was schooled in his expression now. He breathed in loudly and took his hat from his head to rake a hand through his hair.

“What the fuck were you thinking?!”

Every word was emphasized as if it were a question that had been on his mind for hours.

Zelda winced as he cut the rope and unthreaded it from her wrists.

“You’re damn lucky I busted that door down,” he exasperated with a shaking head. “You better thank your lucky stars and Hylia Herself that I even thought to check in on you! I knew it was strange that you were so tired all week. I knew something was up, but I still gave you the benefit of the doubt. You might hate me plenty but those people don’t give a damn about your well-being. Why, I’m surprised you aren’t in a ditch by now.”

He rounded her and crouched to remove to gag, but Zelda had beaten him. She couldn’t pinpoint when her eyes betrayed her. Her vision went watery, but it was too late to hide it. Link had stilled, his mouth open to berate her further yet nothing came out.

“I’m sorry!” she shouted, her voice fragmented. Her brow knitted, both from his provocation and the shock of almost dying. A gun had been to her neck. Zelda had seen the insanity in that woman’s eyes, the excitement to see violence from a loaded gun. She had felt that.

She repeated the apology and curled up into herself. Link was obviously hesitant to do anything. Neither of them could recall a moment where she apologized to him for anything. There was no amount of guilt that could have made her regret her attempts to drive him away. Zelda’s cruelty had simply been a means to an end until now.

Despite her ugly sniffling, he didn’t walk away. Link sat beside her, occasionally placing his hand on her back or brushing strands of escaped hair from her face. Even after she collected what was left of herself, he said very little and deigned only to guide her onto Epona’s saddle. The rest of the ride consisted of collecting her spooked mount and traveling back to the inn.

Much of their silence consisted of an amalgamation of thoughts about how Zelda Bosphoramus might actually need that blue-eyed hick.

#this is an excuse to write link with an accent #judge me idc #there's a lot of swearing in this i'm sorry #wild west au #loz #loz au #zelink #?#inevitable prolly #zelda #link #yeehaw #ashleyswrittenwords

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scullydubois · 4 years ago

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baby, in your kingdom (for valentine’s <3)

read on ao3 tagging: @today-in-fic @iusedtoknowwhatawishwasfor @scullllaaaaayyyy

Mulder proposes to Scully during the Requiem bed scene.

So you may have seen the text post I wrote imagining a version of Requiem where Mulder proposed and didn’t go off to Oregon at the end...I couldn’t stop thinking about that, so it turned into this. This is my favorite prose that I’ve written for a fic, and it might turn into a series someday because this concept is just so rich and worth diving into. Happy Valentine’s Day, and enjoy a treat on me to numb the pain hehe.

T, 1.7k, more angst than fluff (oops) but the tenderness is there too

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

He needs to tell her one thing and ask her another. Should be simple enough, except it never is when it comes to words passing between them. It's in both their natures to leave the sweetest sentiments unsaid lest they lose their luster when voice meets air. And what he has in mind is not exactly the easiest of utterances, neither the former nor the latter. One is the kind of admittance we fear when the phone rings unexpectedly, the other a declaration the unluckiest people go to their graves without getting. Delivering both at the same time is a sin if he’s ever committed one. And for once, he cares what count God has against him. What if he isn’t able to see her again, even in the afterlife?

He’s been weighing one decision for awhile, looking for the balance between his conviction and her virtue. He could have done it when she came back to him with her baby-faced blush, accepting the cross he clung to in lieu of her. Or when she showed him the x-rays, and they spelled out no hope. When he cried by her bedside and she didn’t stir--he could have done it then, she wouldn’t have known. But it means nothing unless it means everything to both of them, and she wouldn’t have--no, couldn’t have--given him the answer he wants back then. He holds this as the sacred truth that governed him then and will govern him now. He has no room for regrets.

The scuff of their shoes against the baseball diamond was the first time he realized that maybe, maybe this manic impulse of his had some basis in reality. Not a solid one, nothing they could cross a canyon with, but in time…

And then he was inside her brain, privy to her thoughts, and what was an unsound bridge had become a stairway to Heaven only they could climb. Fuck a safety net, he wouldn’t be needing that anymore.

Then he got the call from Billy Miles, and he thought of her ouroboros, and isn’t that what they’ve been doing this whole time? Circling some greater truth that they’ve always known?

Every circle ends where it begins and begins where it ended. This is what he’s thinking when he spots Billy’s badge, and they glide over the X he painted when they didn’t yet trust each other (but so badly wanted to), and when he lays eyes on Teresa Nemmans and she is not Nemmans but Hoese, and there is a child in her arms.

Seven years. And what do they have to show for it? What they mean to each other has changed, but it’s not like anyone can tell. He called Scully his partner then, and he calls her his partner now. Oh, the time they have wasted.

But it will be wasted no more. Seeing her with the Hoese baby, cooing a lullaby into its precious ear…seven years ago, he told her of the government’s conspiracy and how nothing else mattered to him. That is no longer the truth.

There is a truth they both know that is stronger than anything. When she appears at his door, flushed and shivering like a puppy left out in the cold, his head and his heart finally hit the same wavelength. He will shy away from fate no longer.

She doesn’t wait to be invited in, she knows his bed is hers for the taking. He lifts her shoes off her feet like he’s kneeling at an altar, wraps his arms around her as if it’s what he was put on this Earth to do. Contrary to popular belief, he has quite a reverence for domestic bliss. He’s been searching for it since his own reflection of it was shattered at twelve years old, and it has finally come to him.

He is scared to death that he’ll fuck it up, but not so scared that he’ll back away. In other words, his approach to everything in his life. It occurs to him then, with his lips on her temple, that he would set his own flame to the office and every X-File in it if she asked him to. If that’s what she wanted. He wouldn’t even have stepped foot back in that haunted place after its first burning if she’d given him an indication that it was not her desire.

“Scully,” he starts, nuzzling her neck, “I was thinking about when you asked me if I ever wanted to stop...if I ever wanted to get out of the car.”

“Uh-huh,” she breathes so faintly that he wouldn’t have known if he hadn’t felt it in her lungs.

“Well, I do want that. I’ve always wanted that. Remember when we were in Home and I said I’d like to settle someplace like that?”

Scully chuckles against him.

“Obviously not in Home, but you know, some place with the small-town sentiment without the, uh, familial connection.”

“Mm-hm,” Scully murmurs, sensing a larger point that he has strayed from.

“I just never knew how to get to it--I never thought that I could get to it, because I grew up thinking my parents had that, and then I saw they never did at all.”

Scully tucks his open palm under her chin, listening contentedly.

“So I spent my time chasing apparitions,” he continues, “things I couldn’t see, because I stopped believing in the things that I could. It’s like…the invisible things could surpass my expectations easily, but the visible ones could only disappoint.”

Scully feels cocooned, protected, and warm. She latches her attention to Mulder’s voice to keep from drifting off, kissing his knuckle to show that she’s listening.

“And I’ve realized, Scully,” he says, an edge in his voice, “that it’s a fucking waste of time to live like that. Like doing laps on a lazy susan and wondering why you’re never getting anywhere.”

“I know,” Scully says, her voice quiet but certain.

Mulder laughs lightly. “I know you do, that’s what you’ve been saying all this time...I just didn’t see it before.” He kisses her shoulder, lingering in the final moments before doing what cannot be undone. “And so I have something to ask you, but there’s something I have to tell you first.” Rawness permeates his voice.

At the sound of this, Scully cranes her neck, her gaze falling upon his face for the first time since they laid down. She can barely see his hazel irises through the reflecting pool in his eyes.

“What is it, Mulder?” she asks, concern pressing up against her urgent need to know.

He closes his eyes, the sight of her too much for him in this moment. What he wouldn’t give to feel like he could live with himself if he kept this a secret.

“I’ve seen a neurologist, I’ve had MRIs, it’s all conclusive. My brain is diseased from whatever Cigarette Smoking Man did to me. Fatal, my neurologist says.”

“Mulder…” Scully sits up, her whole being gravitating toward him. She runs her fingers along the space where she knows he bears his scar.

“Who told you this? And when? Have you had symptoms…?”

Clearly, she does not want to believe him, and he understands.

“I’ve been going back and forth to appointments for a few weeks. It was just confirmed the other day, I didn’t want to worry you until I knew more.”

“And your symptoms?”

He recognizes the darkness in her eyes and pucker in her forehead that forewarns tears. “Disorientation, dizziness, memory loss...sometimes I feel like I sleepwalked right through my day. “

‘Why didn’t you tell me?” her voice crackles.

He kisses her hand. “I thought you might go to some dark places if you tried to diagnose me.”

“Well, you’ve just turned the lights out on me with no warning!”

“Shit. I’m sorry, I’m sorry...I didn’t know how best to approach it, I just knew I wanted to cause you the least pain possible.”

“You wanted it to be nothing so you wouldn’t have to tell me,” she notes, not accusing, just speaking plainly.

“Well, yes. That would have been ideal.”

She swallows back tears, wrapping her arms around his neck with grave sincerity. “But now I’m here to fight right alongside you.”

This is what they do--have done, for years. Make his pain her pain and vice versa. Hurt hurts less when shared.

Mulder pulls away first, and it feels like peeling off a layer of his skin. Still, this is as necessary as anything he has ever known.

“That’s why I was wondering--and listening to it now, I realize this is probably the most selfish thing I’ve ever done, but I don’t know, I thought you might understand...will you marry me, Scully?”

Her breath catches and before she can think of anything else, she is careening toward his t-shirt to cover her tears. She clutches at the material, pulling it from his midsection to her face.

As far as Mulder’s concerned, there’s an elephant stuck in his throat. “I really don’t know what that means,” he stammers.

Scully lets him see her, tear-stained skin and all. “Yes, Mulder, my god yes! Do you honestly think I’d say no to you?”

“I would, especially in this situation.”

It’s a classic Mulder comment, but Scully’s not laughing. She pulls him in again, just wanting to feel his skin against hers. Their breaths slow in time with each other’s, their heartbeats matching pace. Scully’s lips brush his mole.

She speaks into his skin. “You saved me when it was impossible. I will do the same for you.”

Mulder thought he might hold it together until those words slipped from her lips. The elephant in his throat turns to stifled sobs.

With silent tears still streaking down her cheeks, Scully runs her thumbs along his lips. Just as she did when they thought his brain was getting better. The love in her eyes is equal to then too.

“My constant, my touchstone, remember?” she professes. “Then, now, and always.” She presses her lips to his forehead, and he thinks she must be healing him.

#yes it's valentine's but it's a pandemic valentine's #so have some angst with that fluff #the x-files #txf fic #txf fanfic #fox mulder #dana scully #mine #requiem

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thatshiscigar · 5 years ago

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Trapped - Chapter Two

JJ Maybank x Reader

Chapter One

Warnings: slight swearing

Word Count: 1.8k

A/N: chapter three coming soon!

Masterlist

Let me know if you would like to be added to my OBX taglist!

You woke up the next morning with a pit in your stomach. You knew what you had to do in order to protect yourself. You couldn’t let your self fall into the trap what was JJ Maybank.

You took your time getting up, letting your eyes take in the body next to you, his features glowing under the new sunlight. It hurt so bad to know he’ll never be yours. Yours to love, to protect. You couldn’t handle the pain. It was too fresh of a wound to pour salt into this early in the morning. You couldn’t kick yourself while you were down.

You swiftly got out of bed and gathered your belongings as quickly and quietly as you could. You opened the bedroom door, and the creek sounding from the hinges made you wince. You glanced back to him, making sure he was still sleeping peacefully. You let your eyes linger on him for longer than you should’ve. You were supposed to be leaving and distancing yourself, not staying and falling for him all over again.

You finally ripped your eyes from him, not noticing the tears that were falling freely. You turned away and closed the door behind you, heading to the back door.

“Going somewhere?” The voice made you jump out of your skin. You turned to the couch, only to see John B’s smug little face. He was kneading a little stress ball in his hand.

“Um, yeah! My mom just wanted me home, so,” you jabbed your thumbs in the direction of the door, wanting to escape this conversation as quickly as possible.

“Oh, really? She’s never done that before, has she?” John B could sense your bullshit from a mile away. He always could, and you loved and hated that about him. He stood up from his place on the couch and walked over to you, his eyes burning holes in yours.

“What’s up,” he asked, his tone concerned, like a worried dad.

“Um,” you started, trying to gather your thoughts.

“He still hasn’t told me why, he said it didn’t matter.” You shrugged, desperately trying to play off your nerves.

“No,” John B rested his hand on your shoulder.

“I mean with you.” You looked up at him in surprise. You didn’t expect him to worry about you, especially not with JJ looking like he just his face caved in.

John B’s eyes were comforting. They told you that you could tell him anything, even about your crush on JJ. But you pushed those thoughts away. All they did was remind you of what you couldn’t have.

“Nothings up with me, I’m fine,” you said defensively. It was useless to lie to John B. He was like a bloodhound for the truth, but he didn’t want to press you to talk about something you didn’t want to talk about. He nodded in acceptance.

“Well, whatever’s up with you,” he opened your hand, sliding the stress ball into your palm.

“Take this little guy with you. You need it more than I do.” He closed your fingers around the ball for you, offering you a sympathetic smile. You smiled back, giving a weak thanks. You brought your free hand to his shoulder, giving it a few smalls pats before turning for the door.

“See ya later?” John B asked as you were half way out the door.

“Yeah.” You gave him a half-assed smile and walked out to your car, playing with the stress ball in your hand. You slid it into your backpack.

“Yeah, see you later,” you muttered to yourself. That was one lie John B didn’t catch.

It had been two weeks since you’d last seen your best friends, and the only thing keeping you company was the little stress ball. It tore you up inside, but you would rather push your friends away than feel the pain of longing and yearning for something you can’t have.

At first, you told them that your mom needed you to do chores, like, a lot of chores. Like cleaning the kitchen, the mud room, the bathroom, and everything else in between. It was the only lie you had thought of, and it was believable. For a little while. After about a week of “chores”, your friends were starting to get suspicious. Your house wasn’t any bigger than John B’s, or JJ’s, so it didn’t make sense to be cleaning it for a week straight. Your friends also knew your mom, and they knew her well enough to know she’s not the type of person make you stay in to clean the house in the middle of summer, when you should be out with your friends. Your lie was falling apart in front of you.

But they let you hang onto it for a few more days, even though they missed you just as much as you missed them, if not more. They knew if you were really distancing yourself from them, it was for good reason. You wouldn’t just leave them for good without an explanation, but the not knowing drove them insane.

Pope and Kie were concerned. They knew what you were going through the night before you left, and even though they didn’t play role in your distance, they couldn’t help but feel a little bit of guilt. Maybe if they had said more around the fire, you wouldn’t feel the need to push them away

JJ didn’t know how to handle himself. He felt like he drove you away. He knew that this would happen one day. You’d get sick of him, like everyone else in his life, and you’d leave. He didn’t know why it hurt this much, though. He thought he’d been preparing for it pretty well. JJ never let himself get too attached, and he never let you know how he felt about you.

Your last conversation didn’t sit right with John B. He knew something was up with you, and he let it slide. John B was the leader of the group, and even though nobody else knew about your conversation that morning, he felt like he let everyone down. He didn’t find out what was wrong with you, and maybe if he pressed a little bit harder, you wouldn’t be doing this. John B was getting sick of the not knowing. He knew you didn’t really like the whole “let’s talk about our emotions” thing, so when he finally decided to go to your house to see what’s up, he thought it would be best to not bring the peanut gallery.

You were sitting in your room making a friendship bracelet when you heard the familiar rumble of the old van. You ran to your window, your eyes wide as they confirmed what you thought you heard. You busted out of your room to look for your mom, and you quickly found her on the couch, reading the newspaper. Your sudden movements made her jump.

“God, Y/N!” She scolded.

“If one of my friends comes to the door, I’m-“ you were cut off by the doorbell.

“I’m not here!” You quickly shut your bed room door and sat down against it, your head in your hands. You grabbed the stress ball from your night stand, hoping it would live up to its name.

“Hi Ms, Y/L/N, is Y/N here?” You heard John B’s voice through the wood.

“Why yes! Let me get her for you!” Your moms tone was overly cheery, knowing she was so close to getting you out of the house and back out into the world with your friends.

She walked down the small hallway and knocked on your door. Swallowing the stone in your throat, you stuffed the ball in your pocket, stood up, and placed your hand on the doorknob. You hesitated before you twisted it, knowing what conversation awaited you on the other side of that door.

You cracked the door before fully opening it, coming face to face with your mother. Sho offered you a small smile before briskly walking down the small hallway to get to her room, leaving you and John B some privacy. You stepped out of your room, finally exposing yourself to your visitor.

“Hey,” John B said over a breath. Seeing you alive and okay lifted a thousand tons off his shoulders.

“Hey,” you said back, your voice low. You could barley look at him without feeling guilty and ashamed of leaving him in the dark. You moved to your couch and sat down, John B following suit.

“Alright,” he started.

“I’m just gonna cut out the shit, Y/N. What’s going on with you?” He almost sounded mad. He stood up from his place on the couch.

“I mean, you vanished for two weeks with no explanation! And don’t give me that I was doing chores bullshit, we both know that’s a lie.” You kept your eyes to the floor, afraid of meeting his fiery gaze. John B did not like being lied to, and that’s exactly what you’d done.

His face softened when he saw your tears splash on the ground. He felt guilty. He knew he wasn’t going to get anywhere with yelling, he just needed to get his anger out. You had abandoned him and the rest of your friends, and he was scared of losing you for good.

He sat back down next to you, and placed a consoling hand on your knee.

“He misses you, y’know.” John B didn’t have to say his name, you knew who he was talking about.

“He’s drinking more, smoking more, fighting more.” He paused, trying to think of his next words. He knew about your crush on JJ, he wasn’t blind. He recognized the look of jealousy on your face whenever JJ was with flirting with another girl at a party. The look of longing, yearning, and anger was something unmistakeable. He also knew that JJ had a crush on you. He might’ve let it slip one night while he was drunk. He saw you laughing with a touron, and his jealousy rose.

“You keep him together, Y/N,” he whispered. Your eyes shot up to John B’s at the quiet words. You had spent the mast two weeks convincing yourself that you didn’t matter to JJ, that he would always mean more to you than you would to him, but here John B was, the person who knew JJ like the back of his hand, telling you that you were the thing that was keeping JJ from crumbling.

“Come back, Y/N, please.” He grabbed your hand.

Going back to the Chateau wasn’t going to be easy, but if staying away was hurting JJ more than it was helping you, your pain didn’t matter to you anymore. You couldn’t go about your days knowing you were causing the boy that you loved to hurt.

“Yeah,” you said. It was so quiet, John B wasn’t sure you said anything at all. You had to face your feelings head on, or else you’d just keep living like you were.

“Let’s go.”

Taglist: @supremestarkey @lovelymaybankk @blueeyedbesson @whormotional @classywaves @sexytholland @danaerekat @em753 @babyhoneystvles @angelic-boca @milked-down-coffee @dolanfivsosxox @sunwardsss

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starr-fall-knight-rise · 5 years ago

Text

Emp-ire, “Deputy.”

Hope you are all having a good day, and I hope you enjoy the story :)

Sparks leapt into the air vanishing to blend in with the wide expanse of the night sky overhead. Spoons clattered and rattled against cans, as the small group of men sat under the stars eating their meager rations. Adam shifted feeling the weight of his new gun on the opposite hip from his old: McBride’s gun.

The Sheriff spooned another mouthful of ration under his mustache before grunting as if he had remembered something and reached behind him, pulling out a sheathed knife and tossing it over to Adam, “Believe that belongs to you.”

He caught it with one hand, and set the can he was eating from down beside his boot, pulling the knife from its sheath, only to see the familiar decorative glint. He felt his face flush a bit, and when he looked up at the sheriff, seeing the look on the man’s face he knew that he knew.

He opened his mouth to speak, “I am so sorry sheriff, I really had no idea what came over me, I-” The man’s booming laugh cut him off mid apology, “No need to apologize to me boy. That man was nothing better than a crawly little maggot in my book, and deserved a lot more than losing a knife.” He snorted and leaned back in his seat, “Why take it, though, you being such an upstanding citizen and all. Doesn’t seem to fit your profile.”

Adam, still a bit flushed, rubbed the back of his neck, “I…. well.”

That’s when Ramirez butted in, leaning over the fire and announcing in a very loud voice, “To impress a girl.”

Adam turned a sharp glare down on Ramirez who was grinnin fit to burst.

“A girl!” The sheriff exclaimed, “Now that is something, isn’t it. Why don’t you go ahead and tell us about this girl.”

Ramires rolled his eyes,”How about that time he dumped that girl, and decided to pine after her later.”

Adam glowered so hard at Ramirez he hoped he would explode, but when no spontaneous combustion occurred, he simply sighed and slouched down in his seat, “Look, not to get into too many details or seem sorry for myself, but I’m not exactly in a great mental headspace to…. To be dating right now. It isn’t fair to her, and I refuse to drag her into my mess, especially one she didn’t sign up for.”

Around the fire, he could see the other men rolling their eyes largely.

“If she’s any kind of woman, it wouldn’t matter..” One of them said, “A real woman’s always got your back, covers you blind spots, and she’s shooting when you reload. A real woman makes you a better man at the same time you make her a better woman…. Course that is assuming that you are any kind of man.’ Adam blew out through his cheeks long and drawn out, “Very poetic, deputy, but let's assume I’m not any kind of man…. At least not right now, and she doesn’t deserve that.” “And so what, did you hope to find your manhood out here with the roughians and the hooligans.” one of them asked motioning around at the planet behind him.

Adam sighed again, “Actually, no.” he motioned to Ramirez, “that one dragged me out here to cheer me up, but since we’ve been here, I’ve been threatened, had a horrible hangover, been kicked in the face, kidnapped, threatened, fallen off a horse, and been kicked in the face a second time.”

The group of men laughed, “Sounds like a good time!”

They laughed, and he laughed with them.

“Anyway, she likes weapons, loves them actually, any kind, so it made me think of her, and I thought that when I get back, maybe my apology would go better if I soften her up first.”

The men eyed each other, “Or give her a weapon to carve you up with in her rage.”

He snorted and smiled slightly, “I guess you’re right about that. Anyway, I don’t expect to get her back, not really, but I at least want to say sorry, man up and explain to her why I did what I did. I was so messed up at the time, that I didn’t really provide a good explanation, and I think she deserved to know the truth. I am hoping this is a case of better late than never, and not a case of too little too late.”

Ramirez sighed and shook his head but let it go.

The sheriff watched him with some interest, head tilted this way and that, scrutinizing him as if he was some strange looking crustation the man had found under a rock.

He stared down at the knife he now twisted between his two fingers before strapping it to his belt,

He expected the sheriff or one of the other deputies to keep going on about it, but they dropped the subject, and instead the sheriff leaned forward over the fire, “You boys did a pretty good job with those men back there. That was some good shooting, and back at the bar was some pretty good teamwork.” he looked sidelong at Adam, “Now, I can’t vouch for the intelligence of a man who would flying tackle a bandit off a horse at twenty miles an hour, but that remains to be seen I suppose.”

Ramirez and Adam lifted their head in interest.

Adam raised an eyebrow, “You trying to say something sheriff.”

The man paused scrutinizing them still, “Well McBride and his men have been bothering this community for a while now, and it needs to stop. Now we captured a few of them back there, but McBride is the one we are really after, without him his whole group falls apart and vanishes back into whatever cesspit they came from.” he paused tapping his boot thoughtfully against the dirt, “We need good fighting men to help us take them down and you two….”

Ramirez and Adam both leaned forward in some measure of excitement eyes wide.”

“And well, the two of you have more than proven your metal when it comes to the fighting aspect so….. I am more than willing to deputize you boys until we catch McBride, the help would be most appreciated.”

“HELL YEAH!”

The sheriff almost fell off his log as the two of them jumped to their feet in vehement and unbridled excitement.

A few of the deputies just shook their heads.

“City folk.” one of them whispered but the smile on his face made it clear enough that he didn’t really mean anything by it.

“Calm down! Lest I rethink my offer,” the sheriff muttered, clearly trying to appear more annoyed than he actually was. He stood, “Both raise your right hands or some shit, I don’t know.”

The two of them did as asked, grinning from ear to ear.

“Now in the power vested in me by the Bramble county justice system bla bla, I hereby deputize you that you may bring justice and all that stuff or whatever. Do you swear to protect this county and all the citizens in it.”

“We swear.”

He grunted, “Good.”

The two men stared at him, grinning expectantly, “What?”

“You know what.”

He sighed, grumbled, and walked over to his saddle, reaching into the bag and pulling out two shiny golden badges both in the shape of a star. He tossed them across the topen fire at the two men, “Here, and try not to wet yourselves.”

They didn’t wet themselves of course

But there was certainly a moment of girlish screaming and jumping up and down around the fire that probably shouldn't have been done in front of a group of other men whose respect they were trying to gain.

When they sat back down finally clearing their throats and awkwardly adjusting their hats, the other men stared at them with some measure of both amusement and concern, though no one said anything.

Of course neither of them really cared.

Ramirez was still admiring his badge when a sudden frown came over his face, and he reached down to his shirt, “Damn it.”

Adam tilted his head,”What.”

“Hole in my shirt.”

He turned to see that there was, indeed, a hole in his shirt.

“Shit, I liked this shirt.” “Oh stop bitching and hand it over.”

“What.”

“Just give me the damn shirt.”

Ramirez did as told, though as he handed it over, the suspenders of his pants now hanging down at his sides he looked up grinning, “If you wanted to see me shirtless, you could have just asked.”

Adam, not looking up from the hole replied, “I’ll be interested in your sweaty man boobs when hell freezes over.”

There was some light chuckling form around the fire as Adam reached into his bag and pulled out a small sewing kit. The group of men watched as he deftly threaded a needle, wetting the end of the thread with saliva before threading it through the small hole. Within the next few seconds he was pulling the hole in the shirt closed until it was neatly stitched back up and he handed it back to Ramirez .

He stared looking between Adam and the repaired shirt, “dude…. This… this is clean… since when have you known how to sew.”

Adam looked almost offended, “Seriously ramirez, think about who my mother is for five secons.”

“I mean yeah, but you didn’t exactly strike me as the sitting in the living room sewing with mom type.”

Adam crossed his arms, “I had a life once. Before I joined the UNSC I used to make my own costumes for conventions. My mother taught me everything she knows, and since I didn’t have a lot of friends at school I got pretty good at it.”

“Next you’ll be telling me you can knit.”

“Dude I will Knit or crochet you the best damn scarf you’ve ever worn and maybe a nice pair of mittens to go along with it.”

They stared at each other neither breaking eye contact.

“I make a mean beanie.”

Ramirez began to laugh, “You never cease to amaze me. What else can you do. I mean, you can Knit and crochet, and sew.”

“I am also pretty handy at cross-stitching, embroidery, and needlepoint.”

The other men around the fire began to laugh, though it was good natured enough.

Adam shrugged, “Laugh all you want, but I never had to worry about holes in my pants.”

“That it”

He paused and shook his head, “Well, no. I used to be able to do makeup ok, just for the costumes I did, could practically change the structure of my face. I was pretty good at it, I would say.” he frowned, rubbing his chin a bit, “I mean there were a lot of the things my mother and father taught me how to do…”

“Why…. why did you stop. That all seems fun.”

Adam paused, and then shrugged, “I…. well, I joined the UNSC and then didn’t really have time to do those things anymore. They just sort of… fell away until I kind of forgot I could even do them…. It was the same with riding horses and woodworking.”

“You used to draw too, didn’t you.”

Adam shrugged, “A little, probably could have been pretty good if I had practiced, but there wasn’t really time to do that either.”

One of the deputies prodded the fire with a stick, “Let your job kind of take over your life, didn’t you.”

He paused and shrugged, “I guess.”

“Not something that's good for a man.” The sheriff gestured around the circle, “The boys here all have things they like doing outside work. I mean I own a little farm. I like getting my hands in the dirt, and watching things grow. Clayton over there makes his own booze, and is pretty good at if I don’t say so myself. Tom there and his girl like to go dancing, won a few competitions, haven’t you Tom.”

Adam rubbed the back of his head, “Well I do have things outside my work I like to do, like flying or, watching vintage movies.”

“You're a fighter pilot, Adam, so that doesn’t count, and sci-fi movies are too close to home.”

He sighed, “Fine, fine, maybe I let the life take me over a little too much.”

Ramirez snorted, “Maybe…. Maybe?”

“Ok yeah, I DID for sure.”

“Don’t lose yourself kid. The moment you allow your job to define you, there is always the chance it could be taken away, and then you’d lose your identity all together.”

Adam grimaced at the thought, but realized they were…. Right.

What was he?

And there walsall the possibility in the world that he could lose his job. He wasn’t sure how it could be done, but he was sure it could happen. There was always the possibility of politics chasing him out of his role if he got too important. Or perhap, he would just get to old, and they wouldn’t trust him anymore.

Either way, one day he was going to be out of a job, and when that happened, he needed to make sure he was stable enough to handle it. And if he couldn’t handle his real life, right now, then he was sure that he wouldn’t be able to handle himself if he lost it.

“Get some sleep, all of you, we ride out tomorrow…. To catch a train.”

The men grumbled and maneuvered their saddles into more comfortable positions leaving one man on watch for that night.

Adam leaned back against his saddle to stare up at the stars.

There was…. An overwhelming sense of vertigo that came with looking up, a familiar sensation he had had since childhood. The stars overhead were comforting and familiar, but tonight they also seemed distant. They had been distant for a while, he supposed, and the thought left him with a deep well of sadness.

When had it been, when had he lost it….. The wide eyed childish love for what he did.

When had he become so…. So lost.

Was there a moment he could pinpoint, was there an instance he could look back on and see?

Or had it come on slowly pernicious and insidious creeping up on him slowly from behind to tackle him and bind him with such doubts and indecision.

He closed his eyes, and in his dreams he flew through the sky trailing his fingers through he stars.

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electronicdelusionstarlight · 4 years ago

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wait a minute. So I've read your bits on civil war 2008, and I have a question for you: all the characters in the civil war event, at least the major players(like stark, Cap, Spidey, FF), do you believe that they are acting OOC, or that the writers chose to bring out the character's worse qualities to create drama?

And do you think that if the writers had written them In Character, or at least written them to be more balanced, would it have improved the story? Actually, do you think that Civil War could have been... at least A not Bad Story under an intense rewrite? or that the whole concept should have been thrown away?

The OOC talk is tempting and also partially justified. There is a batch of previous stories scattered through the years with the Fantastic Four dealing with similar scenarios where Reed is pretty much anti-government.

1) In one Social Services sue the FF4 for endangering Reed and Sue Kids by keeping them in the Baxter Building despite it being blown up once every 2 weeks. They ask them to "register" them and put them in a safe government facility, so to spearhead a new law where they can get pre-teen superhumans "out of harm way" or some shit.

Keep in mind Franklin is still a Mutant in this story (And still is right now because FUCK YOU SLOTT). Anyway, Reed seemingly agrees,only to set up a dummy facility and "register" his kids there. He doesn't even announce it he literally only writes it in the Government's documentation and shit.

The facility is razed to the ground a couple hours later. Because yes the Baxter Building can explode at any time but AT LEAST they are there to protect the kids from the countless people.

2) In another story, Reed is asked by Congress to create a device that outs mutants and "abnormal" humans, so the government can better individuate them for "reasons." Reed agrees, and makes a device SO POWERFUL it detects every deviations from the supposed norm, so when he gives a demonstration in Congress, he reveals half of its members would qualify as "Mutants" if they kept that line of inquiry, which makes them hastily drop the whole thing. This was intentional, because who the fuck are they to decide who is or isn't not normal?

3) Compare and Contrast with Civil Ear Reed Richards, who is a McCarthy apologist who goes "Logically speaking, we need to listen to the government on this one otherwise we might get burned just like my (gay coded) artist uncle was by the McCarthy Trials in the 50s when he told the court to shove it and his life was ruined as a result. It's the rational way to do it."

4) (The three main proponents of the Registration Side being Rich, White, Heterosexual Men in positions of powers, with jobs in the science field that justify their decision with "Facts and Logic" was PROBABLY unintentional, but is also a great unintended allegory for this kind of shit. The ones who are hurt the most but these kind of laws are the ones who can't afford it after all, and who is ever going to go after the rich and powerful first? Especially if they come with little repercussions on their lives (Tony, Reed and Hank where all already outed as Superheroes after all))

5) Peter is OOC in OMD mind you, Civil War goes pretty much how you'd expect him to go (gets manipulated by authority figure into it, MJ and May are supportive of him because they see only half the facts, the SECOND Peter realizes that those people are monsters he drops them and gets the shit beaten out of him for it, unlike Reed or Tony who can AFFORD having their identities public Peter barely has the money to survive which ends with May getting shot for it). It's an incredibly poignant scenario that I wish was used to TELL A MESSAGE rather than just a backdrop to shoehorn OMD in.

6) Which is to say Civil War could indeed be written better under the same premise. If they want to keep the Patriot Act Allegory, they should be aware of what that would entail for the characters that support it.

We are currently seeing a similar scenario going on in Marvel in the Champions comics where the registration side is pretty much spearheaded by an unambiguous evil corporation and shit. In light of Civil War I existing the whole thing kinda loses its impact (Like that one joke scene where Tony goes "Maybe we should register them" with a smug look on his face as if he isn't responsible for so many deaths), but at least they are trying to shift the conversation? The villain is not the Government of course it's Evil Apple, but at least it's not a "Both Sides are equally ok" centrist bullshit take like they did in Civil War or in Skyrim.

Like, fuck, it's literally called CIVIL WAR to invoke the American Civil War in the context of the "brother kills brother" interpretation some bastards are so fond off, I wouldn't call THAT a "Both Sides are valid" scenario by a long fucking mile, yet here we are.

7) I think the best way to put it would be to set up the same scenario but make it realistic to the setting and shit.

Hank and Tony still support the Government because one is a Skrull Chaos Agent the other is misguided, Carol takes Reed's place in the Triad because Women can be War Criminals too (She was leading the equivalent of a child soldier program during Civil War so she is one already at least). Steve is also anti government because this is happening during the fucking BUSH ADMINISTRATION and he goes "When will Washington decide who the villains are?" Like he did in canon but in, like, a poignant moment.

Speaking of Reed he will keep his family neutral and go "I admit superheroing does need failsafes and some kind of oversight mind you, I just don't this this country's government has demonstrated their right to be that."

Let's not put the "Cap you are out of touch because you don't know what MySpace is" or "Luke every time I see a Sentinel that's like seeing a Burning Cross" rants in the story too because those were some raw shit.

Tony, again, lives in privilege, so it wouldn't exactly affect him, and is genuinely trying to do good, so we need to put him as the "Patsy" who gets duped by Skrull Hank Pym for it, the government is the one with the secret prison for Superheroes, Hank is the one recruiting Nazi Scientists and starting child soldier programs, clones Thor, sets up with the Government a Super Prison in the Ocean (can't use the negative zone without Reed), outside of US Jurisdiction so the government can ship then there with no trial and torture them. When Skrull Hank Pym is confronted for it, and the blame is attempted to be pinned on him and him alone, he goes "Are you earthlings daft or something? I did almost nothing, it was your government who did most of the work in their desire for security and safety, I just sped up the process for them, they would have done all of this with or without me."

Around the ending Tony finds out and is devastated and drops the whole thing."

When someone tries to comfort Tony over it because he didn't know any of this he goes "Oh, that's were you're wrong Peter. I knew. Deep down, I knew things weren't right, unjust, but I did nothing, because I could make things better from the inside, because it didn't affect me, because It would have been inconvenient to me to stop this. This is on me for passively accepting it as it is on the ones who enforced it." Which leads him to make amends, that way he is not as much of a awful character here.

The scene where The US kidnaps Ororo so they can strong arm Tchalla into getting registered happens but is treated as a international crisis as it deserves.

The Prison Break finale happens because Namor discovers the prison in HIS FUCKING DOMAIN and just goes ham on it with the help of the Anti Registration side, he drops a line like "I've seen shit like this before, I've seen what happens when man declares another man a criminal for things out of their control, for what they've been from birth, and I say NOT IN MY KINGDOM!" or some shit (He is a WWII veteran after all).

Since Steve isn't pummeling to the ground Tony in this scenario there isn't the dumb as fuck Everyday Heroes scene and he doesn't get shot by Sharon later on..

We have instead the scene from Secret Invasion where Skrull Hank Pym kills Steve (In SI it was Skrull Queen killing Janet Van Dyne) on national television, which leads to the anger of everyone involved who rush him, only for Tony to be the one who pull the trigger.

Tony is put in charge of SHIELD, which leads to Iron Reign (Dark Reign equivalent), and the story ends with him going "Let's see if things can reach change from the inside this time" as he actually reforms Shield from his position of power. The Registration Act becomes unpopular due to Steve's death and Alien Interferences, so that helps, and leads to actual protests in the streets after Namor reveals to the UN the war crimes the US is committing. It's a slow process, but is something.

OMD doesn't happen, The Peter storyline remains pretty much the same, but instead of Tony bragging about his private prisons for Superheroes in hell, it's the Punisher who shows up to him and reveals some troubling shit he discovered, Peter Confront Tony for it who dismisses it as fake news because he doesn't want to believe, Peter drops the registration side out of disgust, which then leads to the government sending villains after him rather than Tony. Tony is then seen strongly arguing with Maria Hill for this since Peter almost died from what he got from his suit readings (which he never hijacked or deactivated), but the Skrull Hank Pym shows up and supports Maria Hill for it, and Carol is busy with her child soldier program to comment.

May still gets shot and dies right as Peter and MJ discover MJ is pregnant with their second Daughter, which is ripe for lots of good stuff.

Maria Hill will therefore have to take even more of a role as a Government Plant and shit, but what's new.

Johnny Storm still gets hate crimed on but not by black people. Maybe confirm him as Bi while we're at it? You know, to get topical and all.

Ideally No More Mutants never happened so mutants are still a thing and most of them are vehemently anti registration. Emma Frost appears neutral at first glance, but ultimately she is playing the long game, secretly helping militant mutant groups and shielding the school from unwanted attention. She still has a restraining order filled for Tony Stark, she still points out to Carol how fucking dangerous a mutant life can be if outed via mind powers.

Can't think of much else for now, maybe Felicia helping MJ and May while they are in hiding? MJ is nauseous and all and she goes "must be the nerves" and Felicia agrees but May knows. This could lead to the polycule post May death since Felicia blames herself for it for not being fast enough, and MJ now is pregnant and scared and the Registration Act is getting repealed by the future is still glum and Peter is depressed so they all comfort each other and then 69 issues later we have a two parter maxi event where they face their fears and BANG we get the polycule.

Aunt May still poisons the Chameleon while he was posing as Peter. She actually actually poisons him rather then just drug him this time, because she knows of that one time he tried to force himself on MJ while posing as Peter which lead to MJ beating the shit out of him with a baseball bat, and May is a nice old lady but there are things she really can't stand you know?

Felicia and MJ help her hide the body. Peter never finds out.

And that's it?

#anti civil war #marvel

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fluffy-marshmallow-heart · 5 years ago

Text

Two Lost Souls -ch 25

The Elementalists au

Beckett x Oriana

Words: 2833

Series Master List

Complete Master List

Series Warnings: Will contain NSFW content. TRIGGER WARNINGS: Physical, Emotional, Sexual, and Domestic Abuse. Death. Rape, Violence, Manipulation, Drug Abuse, and lots and lots of Angst.

Chapter Warnings: Mention of death and abuse

By Reading you are acknowledging you are 18 years of age and older.

Previously on Secret Studies:

“If we can survive all this, Beckett…I think we can survive anything. I don’t think I could ever be happy without you.” Oriana told him softly.

“I know I couldn’t.” He returned. “I’d probably turn into a miserable prick…I think I knew right away that you were the one for me. We’re like pieces of the same puzzle, but there were a couple pieces missing from it. The moment we came together, I think my soul recognized yours, and the puzzle was suddenly complete. And as long as we’re together…we’ll never be lost”

8 Years ago, Beckett and Oriana Harrington graduated Penderghast College. A year after that, tragedy struck, and they haven’t seen each other since. What happens when their paths cross once more? Is it coincidence? Or is it their souls trying to find their way home?

Beckett’s POV

He heard a scream so loud, so frantic, he jumped a mile and crashed out of his shower. Not even pausing, he ran out of his bathroom and what he saw almost broke him.

He rushed to Oriana’s side, seeing the wounds, seeing how deep they were, seeing her naked form crumpled on his floor.

“Oh my god!!” He got to work immediately, pressing his hands over the first wound, the flash of light emitting and then moved to the second. He wondered what the hell caused these, but he had sinking feeling he already knew. And it was his fault. But the second wound wasn’t closing like the first. It was clearly deeper, and she was losing way too much blood. Her skin was already turning ashen. He didn’t know what to do. The last time she was on the brink of death, it took several people to heal her. But there was only him now, and he wasn’t going to lose her.

There was another spell he knew of, but he had never used it and it came with a steep price. Besides that, if she didn’t love him, it wouldn’t work, and they’d both be dead. When she went completely limp, he began anyway. He grimaced as he felt it, felt the searing pain cutting his side, but saw her wound getting smaller, so he continued, crying out as he did so. He collapsed on the floor next to her, not breaking contact. He was writhing with how much this hurt, and he knew it wasn’t as much as she had felt. The hole in her side was closing slowly. He could barely breathe at this point, refusing to look at his own skin. But finally, it all subsided, and both of them were panting.

He let go of her, in disbelief that it had worked. He knew it. He knew she still loved him.

Her eyes slowly blinked open, the color slowly returning to her face. “Beckett? How did I get here?” She asked weakly. “What happened?”

He sat up, pulling her into his arms and rocking back and forth, practically crying of happiness. “I’m not sure. I was hoping you could tell me. What the hell, Ori? What on earth happened to you??”

“I was home…” She began slowly. Then she gasped and moved to clutch her side. “Oh my god! I need healing!”

“I already did.” He told her gently. “I was showering and heard an awful scream.” A scream he never wanted to hear again.

Oriana frowned. “There’s a scar…”

Beckett nodded. “The regular healing spell wasn’t working enough. You were…you…Ori, geezus, I’m so happy you’re okay!!!!” He pulled her even more into him, momentarily forgetting they were both naked. Until his dick jumped, of course. Shit. He’s not even horny…not even close… but his member has a mind all its own. Oriana always had this effect on him. Always.

“There’s more than one?” She whispered. “I didn’t know that.”

“I wasn’t sure it would work. It’s not used much, and I personally had never tried it before. But you know I always found reading to be fun.” He was trying to inject humor into his sentence, but was well aware he was failing. His heart had yet to stop pounding. But at least neither of them was in pain anymore. “Um, I’ll get us towels…” He quickly stood and dashed to his bathroom, grabbing two thick gray towels. He wrapped one around his waist, then went back out to Oriana. She hadn’t stood up yet. Biting his lip, he handed the second towel to her. She slowly took it, holding it up in front of her as he helped her stand. She wrapped it around body, shielding it from view. She just kept staring at him, completely confused. The gravity of the situation finally dawned on him.

“What he did he do?” He blurted. “What the hell, Oriana? He did this!!??” He doesn’t need to specify who he’s talking about.

Her eyes welled with tears. “I don’t understand why I’m here. Beck…how did I get here? The last thing I remember…” She trailed off, placing her hand to her side again.

“They looked like stab wounds.”

Her eyes flicked back up to his. “Oh my god. But, that still doesn’t explain…”

“I put another protection spell on you.” He murmured, inching closer. “But I can’t figure out what I did wrong. It’s supposed to bring you to me before you get hurt, not after. I should have known there was something wrong about it. I can’t believe I messed it up, I don’t mess up, ever, especially when it comes to you.”

Oriana still looked like she was in shock as he cupped her face in his hands.

“I’m so sorry.” He breathed. “This is all my fault. I interrupted your engagement party. This is all because of me.”

He felt awful. He’s the literally the worst person on the planet. He shouldn’t have interrupted her dinner; he should have realized there would be consequences for her. He’s such an idiot. He gently pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I’m so glad you’re okay.”

“When? When did you do the spell? How do you always manage to spell me without my knowing? Was it the coffee? I knew it.”

He swallowed, hard. “When I found you sleeping in my bed with a broken rib. I must have done it too fast, or missed a word or something…I didn’t have it memorized like I did the other, I just said what I remembered.”

She inhaled sharply. “That doesn’t make sense. He’s…I mean this isn’t the first time he’s done something since then.”

He knew exactly what that meant. “You must never have thought your life was in danger. Ori, it was meant to save your life, but you were choosing him over and over again, so of course it didn’t work. He may have been hurting you, but you must never have thought him a real threat. That’s the only explanation.”

“I realized it too late. I thought he was just…going to…” She broke down in a sob, and he wrapped his arms around her.

“But I shouldn’t have been okay with that either.” She cried. “Oh god, what am I going to do? Beck, he knows we’re married.”

His blood ran cold. “How long?”

“I’m not sure. And he knows I’ve been working in this building. He’s followed me. He’s sent me two bouquets of flowers. I thought they were from you, because you gave me flowers once, with a note. Because they were ours, I knew what they meant. The ones he sent…It never crossed my mind how they were different.”

Beckett’s head was spinning. How had he not known? Was he really so oblivious? It’s his fault any of this happened.

“It’s not your fault.” She said quietly, as though reading his thoughts. “Thank you. For the spell. And for healing me.”

He blinked. Years ago, when she discovered he’d put a spell on her, she’d been furious. At first anyway. Now she just seemed grateful.

Her eyes fell to his chest, then his side, and her eyebrows furrowed. “Beckett…what is this?”

Oriana’s POV

She finally noticed a scar on him. A fresh one. She was positive he didn’t have it before, and it looked like…She glanced back down to her side, feeling dizzy. It looked just like hers. Completely identical in every way. She swayed a bit and he caught her. A moment later, he’d seated her on the couch.

“You lost a lot of blood. You need to eat something.”

But before he could get away, she pulled him to keep him with her. “Beckett.” She used a sharper tone. “Why do you have this scar?”

She could feel his heartbeat pounding like a drum.

“It was the only way.” He whispered. “Only one of your wounds healed. I had to do something. I didn’t care what it cost. It didn’t even know if it would work, but I had to try.”

Her breath hitched. “What are you saying?”

“Oriana…” He was warning her. But she’s already figured it out.

“You took my injury into yourself, didn’t you?” She gasped. “Beckett! You could have died!”

“But I didn’t. And it would have been worth it if I had. Plus, I didn’t take all of it. Just most of it. Enough to save you and keep myself breathing.” He grimaced. “I’m sorry about the scar. The spell stops itself. If I knew more about it, I would have kept going.”

She looked at him in astonishment, seeing regret and guilt in his eyes. She didn’t know anything about that particular spell, but it was the only explanation. But a spell like that…there would be more than one risk. It’s so advanced and obviously not used often by anyone. If at all. Otherwise, she’d have known about it.

“What else? What else did it cost?” She demanded, her voice growing stronger.

“Nothing else.”

“I don’t believe you.”

Beckett hesitated again. “It…it only works if there’s pure love between the people. I wasn’t positive you still love me. I thought so, but…”

“Yes. God, yes.” She breathed into him, pressing her lips to his and catching him by surprise. “I love you more than anything in this world.”

She couldn’t believe she was saying this. The words she’s been holding back since she first laid eyes on him in that office. The words she’s been wanting to scream all day every day. And if it wasn’t for Beckett and his damn spells…she wouldn’t be here. She wouldn’t have been able to say them. There’s no going back now. Hell no. They belong together. “Haven’t I told you that?”

“I wasn’t sure you meant it before. I hoped, of course. But I didn’t know.”

“I love you, Beckett Harrington.”

His eyes flashed with deep emotion. “It would have killed us both if you didn’t.” He whispered.

Oriana could barely believe her ears. His healing was unlike anything she’d heard of before. It sounded more like dark magic, and she was curious where he came across it. “I am so fucking sorry, Beck.” Tears were falling down her face again. “You’re the only one I’ve ever wanted. I knew it the moment I set eyes on you again. Everett’s….Everett was a bad decision. But leaving you was the worst decision of my entire life, and I just hope you can forgive me.”

“I already forgave you, Ori.” He said gently. “You have to forgive yourself. Whatever it takes, I need you to forgive yourself. Please.”

She took a deep and shuddery breath. She has more to say and she’s not going to stop herself this time. “I have missed you every single day for the past seven years. I have still loved you every single day. I’ve just been so scared of admitting it and I’m so ashamed for walking away after Jacob. That was the worst possible thing I could have done, and I am so fucking sorry.”

She touched his new scar again, tentatively, before glancing back down at hers. She can’t believe he did that. She can’t believe he risked his life so she would live. She’s positive that if he hadn’t, Everett would have succeeded in killing her. And do god knows what else after that. God, she was so stupid. She looked back into his eyes, her heart fluttering with the words she was dying to ask. The words she should have asked the moment their lips connected again in his office.

“Would you…I mean, do you…want to stay married? Can we try again? Even just go on a date before signing anything? One date, that’s all I’ll ask.” She breathed. What if he says no? What if he’s had enough? She was floored he added a protection spell at all. Surely, he must be tired of her drama. Not to mention how many times she’s hurt him, both in the past and the present. How many times she left him behind to go to someone she never wanted a future with. But if he’ll let her, she will spend her life making it up to him.

A slow smirk crossed Beckett’s lips. “Ori…there’s nothing to ‘try’ again. You’re it for me. You’ve always been it for me. I don’t need to try to remind myself of that, because I never forgot. And I don’t have to date you again to know that I still want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

“Really?” More tears. She couldn’t stop them even if she wanted to.

“But I want you to change your name back to Harrington. And you have to promise me that you won’t shut me out again, no matter what happens. We talk and work through it together.”

She nodded. “I promise.” A laugh escaped her. “Of course, I promise.” She threw her arms around him and hugged him tightly. She’s never felt more at home than she does right now, and she loves him so damn much. But then she froze, knowing what this meant. She has to tell him what is about to happen.

“Beck...Everett…”

“Whatever he does, we’ll figure it out.”

“He has pictures of me.” She whispers.

He furrowed his eyebrows, and she looked at him guiltily.

“Beck, they’re…really bad.”

“This is what he was holding over you, wasn’t it?” He asked quietly.

She just nodded. “I wanted to leave him. I even tried.” She whispered, noticing warmth spread in his eyes when she said that.

He grinned cockily. “I knew that, too.”

She knew he was hoping to get a laugh out of her. But this wasn’t time to laugh. She needed to tell him so he can begin damage control proactively. “I’m…really beat up in the pictures.”

His smile faded.

“And he’s going to send them to the press and say that you abused me at work.”

Beckett remained silent, so she began rambling. “Even though it obviously wasn’t you, of course it will damage your reputation, just the accusation alone will cause so much trouble for you. He’s going to do it, Beckett, I know he’s going to.”

He raked a hand through his hair. “I understand why you think a black eye will give everyone concern. It will be a shock to see, and I’m going to hate it with every fiber of my being. But I don’t think it will be as huge as you’ve imagined.”

“It’s not a black eye.” She blurted out. “It’s a black everything. I’m barely recognizable, I’m so swollen and bruised. It’s my fault he was able to take pictures, I told him…”

“When the fuck did he do that?” Beckett cried in anger. She could feel the rage coursing off of him.

“After he broke my rib.” She whispered.

“But I didn’t see….”

“No, Beckett, I mean after. I wanted to be punished, so I told him he could…”

“Oriana! Even if you asked me to hit you, I would kiss you senseless until you told me why you even remotely thought you deserved something like that. It wouldn’t have mattered what you did. Nothing you’ve ever done is unforgiveable, Ori. But what Everett’s done? THAT is unforgiveable.”

“But…”

“No. Enough of this.” He snapped. “I hope he does go to the press with whatever he has, because I am going to very much enjoy burying him. I should have killed him the first time I saw a mark on you. I wanted to, trust me. I’m sorry people will see you in a bad state, Ori, I really am, and I’ll do my very best to have the pictures blocked, but he has to pay for what he’s done to you. I’m willing to bet he’s done it to others. I’ll find them.”

“But…”

“Why do you keep trying to argue with me? I said I’ll handle it. He will regret everything nasty he’s ever done.”

Oriana cocked an eyebrow. For some reason, the way Beckett was talking was ridiculously sexy and protective. There was so something so determined and fierce in his tone, almost disconnected. This is the stony, cutthroat Beckett Harrington she’s not overly familiar with. But she wants to be. She wants to learn everything new about him. She wants to show him everything new about her. They can’t pretend the past never happened, but they can learn from it, and accept it as part of who they are, as both individuals and as a couple. And for the first time since she ran out of the home they used to share, she was looking forward to what was still to come. She trusts him. She feels safe. As long as they’re together and hold nothing back…she’s confident they can get through anything and come out stronger in the end. It’s the way it always was before. It’s the way it was always meant to be.

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viking-raider · 5 years ago

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Silver and Magic - Chapter 15

Summary: You make it to the Obsidian Fjord in the Dragon Mountains, looking for your Grandfather and a solution to your dire situation, before its too late. You meet more than just your Grandfather, and when you are no longer able to make decisions for yourself, it’s up to Geralt to make the right one. Not for just you and your life, but his as well.

Pairing: Geralt of Rivia/Reader

Word Count: 3,276

Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14

Rating: M - Cursing, Mention of violence, blood

Inspiration: The Dragon Language the reader uses is Thu’um and Dragon Shouts, from Elder Scrolls. You can find a translator here! What the dragon’s head necklace looks like (x) This is sorta what I picture reader’s sword to look like (x) and how I picture the reader’s eyes (x)

Author’s Note: I’m pulling shit out of my muse’s ass, and probably future ones. Tell me what you think!

Tag List: @jennylovelyheart, @peakygroupie, @jessevans, @rosie-loves-things, @ohjules, @mary-ann84, @omgkatinka, @the-freak-cassie-131, @heelsamizayn, @agniavateira, @cap-barnes, @romyr4, @michelehansel, @katiebriggs004-blog, @badassbaker, @mrsaugustwalker, @authentic-bish-face, @rizeandvibe, @severuined, @supernaturalvikingwhore, @bellastellaluna, @wondersofdreaming, @thisisntmyrightera, @michelle-1185, @winchwm, @royallylazy, @sofiebstar, @worldicreate, @agniavateira, @fantasygirlsuniverse, @witches-of-discovery-a, @xuxszx, @ayamenimthiriel, @keiva1000, @fantasygirlsuniverse, @itsreigns, @constip8merm8, @scorpionchild81, @mylifefallingupthestairs, @onlyhenrys, @luclittlepond, @ellixthea, @lebguardians, @geralt-yennefer-jeskier, @cherrybloomn, @p3nny4urth0ught5, @iloveyouyen, @hollydaisy23, @mcuimagination, @psychosupernatural, @sweetlybigdragonn, @whitewolfandthefox, @moviemonzy, @the-soot-sprite, @hell1129-blog, @trippedmetaldetector

A great Purple Dragon rose from the treeline, at the south end of the lake, and you felt an awe and kinship with it as it hovered above the treetops, like it was waiting for you to do something; but you had no idea what. After several moments the Dragon came to you, landing on the edge of the shelf before you and regarded you for several long minutes.

“Hello, Dov Kiir. I am Zoe, wife of Orzac.” The Dragon spoke to you. “You're grandmother.”

You felt a giddiness bubble up inside of you. “I am so pleased to meet you, finally.” You replied, moving closer to her.

“And I you, Mal Gein.” She whispered back, touching noses with you and closing her eyes. She opened her eyes again, and looked at Geralt. “Who is this Joor, Kiir?”

“This is Geralt of Rivia, he's a Witcher.” You told her, turning your neck to look at him. “He is my lover, my...Sil Fahdon.” You tried to explain to her, the best you could.

“A Jul?” Zoe replied, looking back to you. “A man?”

“A Witcher.” You corrected her. “A good mortal. I love him.”

Geralt looked between the two of you mighty Dragons, totally out of the conversation, but trusted, whatever was going on, you would keep him safe.

“Then, why have you come home, Kiir?” She asked, her attention back on you.

“I have a problem, grandmother.” You told her, remembering how tired and on the sharp edge of death you are.

“Tell me, child.” Zoe replied, concerned.

You groaned, letting out a hard breath as your scales shivered and you returned to human form, looking so small beside Zoe, and looked up at her, your knees wobbly. Your pale skin glowed with the red and gold spots and veins, now in the corner of your eyes. Zoe huffed at you through her nose, ruffling a cool breeze over your body, stirring your hair, and relieving some of the heat in your body, like a forge. Zoe's large body walked around you, gently touching parts of your lava-like skin.

“Oh, Child.” She sighed, facing you again, her large mint-green eyes regarding you, sadly. “You're heart-” She whispered, touching the center of your chest, where it was the hottest. “You are losing your human life—soon, your Dragon life, will soon take you over.”

“How do I stop it?” You asked, tears welling up in your eyes, but they quickly dried up, with the heat of your skin.

“We must see your Grandfather.” She said, looking troubled.

“Of course.” You nodded, feeling hopeless.

“This is a trail, there-” She pointed her tail at a worn path. “that you and the...Witcher...may take. Go as far as it will take you, and you will find your Grandfather and I.”

“Thank you.” You told her, nodding your head to her.

“Welcome home, y/n Dilos, daughter of Ronar and Izzi.” She bid you, taking flight and returning back to where she'd emerged.

“She said, we take this trail, and it'll lead us to my grandfather.” You told Geralt, turning towards it; thankfully it was down hill.

“Who is she?” Geralt asked, wrapping his arm around your waist in case you needed support, and followed you down the trail.

“My grandmother, Zoe.” You answered, leaning your shoulder against his side.

Geralt had to carry you the last two miles of the trail, before you came to a house butted up against a huge slab of obsidian. There was a beautiful older woman, with mint-green eyes, standing in the open doorway.

“Bring her in, Joor.” She said, moving out of Geralt's way and motioning inside.

Nodding, Geralt did so and followed her instructions to take you into an upstairs room and laid you down on the bed. “Are you her Grandmother?” Geralt asked, as she bent over you.

“Yes.” Zoe replied, fussing over you.

“You can transform into a human as well?” You asked, looking up at her.

“Of course, Kiir.” She replied, brushing her fingers through your hair, with such affection. “It was the only way your grandfather and I could visit your parents.” She explained to you. “Orzac banished your father from the Fjord, but he never stopped love his children.” She told you, smiling softly at you. “We visited them often, we tried to be with your uncle Orsa, but-” Zoe frowned, shaking her head. “He is still angry.”

“He's still alive?” Geralt frowned, narrowing his eyes at her.

“Yes, he and his wife live in, what we call, the East Gate Cliffs.” Zoe explained to him, placing her hand on your forehead and closing her eyes. “Krah.” She whispered, and her hand became frigid against your skin, cooling your face. “They went there, when they were sent away, and will have nothing to do with us, that isn't hostile.”

“Can you save her?” Geralt whispered, watching you.

“It will be hard.” Zoe answered, moving her cold hand to your chest. “She is so close to death..” She sighed.

“What do you mean?” Geralt demanded.

“Her Dovah Zii, is burning her human body from the inside out, the soul of a Dragon, is incredibly strong. But, hers is even more so, being y/n is a Ved Dovah-”

“A what?” He frowned, shaking his head at all the use of Dragarian.

“A Black Dragon.” She elaborated, glancing at him. “They are the strongest, other than Yuvon—Gold Dragons, like her grandfather. Their spirits are great, it's a surprise y/n was even born, especially, as she was.”

“Why?” You panted, getting delirious.

“Long ago,” Zoe said, sitting on your bed side, her cold hands moving over your body. “There were two gods, Aher and Oara, they loved each other with a fiery passion, that all were jealous and envious of. Before the Conjunction of the Spheres, there was a great battle, between the gods and goddesses about who would rule once the Conjunction happened. But, Aher and Oara, didn't want power, they just wanted to be one, to love each other, for the millennia. When the battle happened, Aher was trapped by an rival god, and was about to be killed, when Oara came from nowhere and stood between them, her skin turned to scale, protecting him from harm. But, it was for not, the god managed to wound her, and in his rage, its said that Aher breathed fire on the god, burning him to blackened bones.”

You surfaced in and out of consciousness, buoyed by her voice and cold of her hands.

“Crushed, as he held Oara as she died, they poured their magic and love together, creating the first two dragon eggs, that laid dormant until the Conjunction, when they hatched. The first, a white egg, for Oara had the most beautiful white hair, emerged first. Soon afterwards, the other egg hatched, a gold egg, for Aher had eyes of pure, molten gold. The powerful embodiment of the god and goddess.” She stroked your hair, watching with worry as your eyes rolled back. “But, even in the body of mighty Dragons, their love and power was too much for them to contain, so they had a child, Dilos; the first Black Dragon, who was strong enough to contain everything his parents could not. He went on to marry and have his own child, Orzac, and so the line of Dragons began. You, y/n, are a reincarnation of Dilos. Your great-grandfather.”

“What?” Geralt snapped, standing at the foot of the bed.

Zoe carefully turned your head and showed him your Dragon Mark, and traced it. “The lower case d.” She said, softly. “Dragons can be reincarnated, it's incredibly rare though. This is how we know she is.” She explained. “That and only Black Dragons are reincarnated, its extremely rare for any other color to be so.”

“Where is Orzac?” Geralt asked, watching you move fitfully.

“He had business to take care of.” Zoe answered, shushing you. “Life of a king.” She laughed, softly. “I am going to put her to sleep, it will help settle her and, hopefully, slow the damage, until Orzac arrives.” She said, looking back at Geralt, sensing his worry. “Praan Ahrk Hahnu, Dii Fron.” You took a deep breath, your eyes opening for a moment, before you let the breath out and relaxed, your eyes falling shut and body laying still. “I am sure, since she's made it this far, that you'll care for her, while I tend to other things.” Zoe said, rising. “There's nothing more I can do for her, now.”

“I'm not leaving her side.” Geralt told her, staunchly.

Zoe patted his arm. “I am sure of it, Witcher.”

Geralt sat down beside you after Zoe left, brushing his fingers through your hair and over your cheek. Your body was relaxed, but your face was still slightly pinched with pain and restlessness, the sheets and pillow beneath you growing damp. “You'll get better again, me minne. I'll do anything to have you better again.” He told you, brow creased as he watched you with worry, leaning in to kiss your chapped lips.

“Witcher.” Orzac greeted him as he returned, stepping into the room.

“Orzac.” Geralt greeted him back, standing up.

“I am sorry, we've met like this again.” The Dragon commented, folding his arms and regarding you in bed.

“Tell me, there's something you can do for her.” Geralt, all but, begged him.

Orzac moved closer to you, touching his first two fingers to your forehead and closing his eyes, sliding his fingers down the bridge of your nose, over your lips and chin, to your throat, and stopping in the center of your chest, a hum rumbling in his chest. He turned to Geralt, suddenly. “Do you love her, Witcher?” He asked, studying him.

“With all that I am.” He answered him, narrowing his eyes.

“Would you die for her?”

“A million deaths.” Geralt growled.

“Would you bind yourself to her?” Orzac asked, tilting his head.

“Like, marry her?” Geralt frowned, confused.

“Of the sort.” Orzac replied, glancing at you.

“Yes.” He whispered, softly.

“Then, this choice, of her life-” Orzac said, looking back at Geralt. “is in your hands. As her soulmate, you must choose how to save her.”

“What are my choices?” Geralt asked, without hesitation.

“There are four.” Orzac explained, seating himself in a chair beside your bed. “One, you allow her to die. Two, we remove her Dragon heart and start her human one. Three, I remove her Human heart and she will turn into her Dragon form, permanently.”

“Why can't you just restart her human heart again?” Geralt asked, feeling himself getting agitated.

“That is the fourth choice,” He answered with a sigh. “But, it's not as easy as you may think. It will change her.”

“Change her, how?” The Witcher got a sick feeling in his stomach.

“There is a very old ritual.” The Dragon began to explain to him. “The Passage of the Sacred. It will change her, it may enhance certain powers, enhancing her Dragon abilities, magic, senses, dragon form; which is already quite strong. It may enhance her human and Mage abilities. It may give her new ones. But,” He settled his eyes on Geralt. “It may take her powers, some or all of them. She may not return from it, either. Some get lost on their journey through the passage.”

“Why do I decide this?”

“She isn't capable of making them herself, you can see as much.” He waved his hand over you. “So, the choice resides with her one true mate, You, Geralt of Rivia.” He smiled between you and Geralt. “Your love for each other is the embodiment of Aher and Oara.”

“I'm not a Dragon, I'm a Witcher.” Geralt huffed.

Orzac laughed. “They didn't start out as Dragons, Witcher. They didn't even start out as Gods. They ascended, because of their love for one another.” He grinned. “I will give you time to decide.”

Geralt grabbed Orzac by the arm before he could leave the room. “I want y/n back.” He told the other male. “I will do anything, so, I want you to do the Passage.”

He blinked at Geralt, and a slow smile crossed his face. “Very well then. I'll prepare the ritual, when it's ready, I'll retrieve you both.”

“Thank you.”

Geralt picked you up, not allowing anyone else too, and carried you down a path that led into a cave system near the lake. He noticed several humans by shimmering pools and lifted his brow at Orzac.

“Dragon Menders.” Zoe explained. “Those we've entrusted our powers and secrets with.”

Nodding, Geralt carefully laid you down on a stone slab indicated by one of the Menders, and stepped away from you, but made sure he was near enough to step in, if he didn't like how they were treating you. A mender retrieved a bucket and dipped it into one of the pools, then slowly poured it over your body, steam rose as the heat of your body evaporated the water. They poured several buckets of water over you, cooling your body considerably. Another Mender entered, covered in strange tattoos and markings, and carrying a large stack of what looked like white gauze. She dipped the gauze into the waters, then slowly started wrapping it around your feet, working up your body.

“What is she doing?” Geralt whispered to Zoe.

“Wrapping her in the fabric of our people.” The Mender replied, her focus still solely on you. “My people have been serving, worshiping and mending Dragons of millennia, we have utilized the Dragons' powers and magic, mixed with ours to aid them, in all things.”

“Lena is our best Mender.” Zoe explained, smiling at her. “Y/n's mother was a Dragon Mender.”

“I thought she was a Dragon?” Geralt frowned.

“She was.” Lena replied, dipping more fabric in the waters and started wrapping your arms. “For her abilities as a Healer, Orzac, gifted her the form of a Dragon. All White Dragons were once a Dragon Mender, that has transcended through the Passage of the Scared, returned, and proven themselves worthy of the heart and soul of a Dragon.”

“Then, our son, Ronar, fell in love with her.” Zoe chimed in, watching. “and they married.”

Lena paused, holding your unwrapped arm and turning towards Orzac. Orzac nodded, stepping forward, pulling a titanium-oxide blade from his belt, taking your hand in his and slicing into your palm, making Geralt jerk with anger. But, Zoe rested her hand on his thick arm and smiled at him, then nudged him forward. Lena held your bloody hand as Orzac grabbed Geralt's and did the same to his palm, making him growl and hiss. The Dragon King pressed your and Geralt's bloody hands together and held them tight between his.

“Do you still mean, that you will bind yourself to her, Witcher?” Orzac asked him, panting. “To marry her, in the will of Dragons.”

“Yes.” Geralt snapped.

“As the might of Dragons,” Orzac said in a strong and powerful tone, his voice carrying through the stone rooms. “King and God of our people, I give my son's daughter to this mortal, to Geralt of Rivia, Witcher, to bind them as one; in love, life, blood and power.”

Geralt felt a burning tingle race up his arm, a white hot heat blooming between your and his palms, and felt strangeness surge through his body and mind, threading his bloody fingers between yours, and squeezing, his amber-gold eyes glowing.

“Gron Ahrk Kos Gein. Fah Nu, Ahrk Enook Bok.” Orzac growled and a gold halo glowed around your linked hands, his eyes changing to their Dragon form. “You are one of us now, Witcher.” He told Geralt, watching as Geralt's pupils changed from pinpoint circles, to narrow slits. “You are tied to each other, bound by all things, as husband and wife, and so much more.”

Geralt shook his head, seeing the change in his vision, even with his eyes being enhanced by the Witcher trials. Orzac let your hands go and Geralt looked at his palm, it was healed, the only trace was a thin and neat scar; you hand was the same. Lena wrapped your arm, then wrapped the rest of your torso, securing your arms to your chest as she did, then carefully wrapped your neck and head. With the help of another Dragon Mender, they picked up your body, carrying you to one of the pools, and gently lowered you in, allowing your body to sink to the bottom, and out of view. Lena took your Orzac necklace and turned to Geralt, motioning him to bend to her short level, and slipped the necklace over his head, settling it around his neck and against his chest, over his heart.

“This necklace has become attuned to y/n's powers.” She told him, touching her fingertips to the mystic crystal eyes in the pendant. “While, she is on her Passage, she will need a guide, a reason to return to us, and her life here. She will be drawn back by her power, but, if she doesn't have a true reason to return, then not even her power will bring her back.” Lena explained to him, meeting his eyes, that had returned to normal. “You, Geralt, as her Soulmate, and now her husband, must be that reason. You must call her back to life.”

“And, if I can't?” Geralt asked, feeling his heart pound.

“Then, she will not return, she will remain in the waters here, for all time. Lost.” Lena told him, sadly, glancing at the pool they submerged you in. “And the only Black Dragon of the Continent, since Dilos, will be gone.”

“How do I recall her, then?” He asked, his eyes trained on the pool and his throat tight.

“Stay here.” Lena said to him, resting her tattooed hand on his arm. “Think of her, talk to her, of your love for her. The life you want with her. What you love about her, and that you want her back.”

“How long will it take her to come back to me?” Geralt asked, he hadn't stopped thinking about those things, since he met you.

“All depends on her.” She answered him, sighing. “Depends on how much damage was caused to her, how much strength she had, and has, left. What life of her is left, and how much she wants to come back.”

“I won't leave until she comes back.” Geralt said, with deep conviction. “and if she never comes back, I still won't leave.” He added, pressing his lips together and fighting hard against showing the emotions so many people had accused him of not having, as a Witcher.

“You are the son of Dragons and Dilos now, Witcher.” Orzac told him, resting his hand on Geralt's shoulder. “Family. My grandchild's Soulmate, husband and love. You will always be welcomed here, for as long as you want, whenever you want.” He said, with his own honest conviction.

“I will ensure, that one of the Menders tends to your needs, while you are here, Witcher.” Lena told him, feeling for him. “However long that is.”

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hermit-pistol · 5 years ago

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stubborn (oldseph x reader)

anonymous asked: why hello there! i'd like to request a part 3 joseph x reader where the reader is a crusader and joseph's always trying to protect her, but she's always trying to prove herself to him and then they fall in love! thank you so much my joseph fan friend!

Oldseph is literally the light of my life, okay. I don’t usually write super long stuff like this but I was so moved because Oldseph. Here ya go!

You had never guessed that you would find yourself in this situation: traveling the middle east with a few grown men and a couple of high school students thrown in for good measure.

The dynamic was a bit awkward at first, to say the least. While you were in your mid-twenties and were capable of handling yourself, being surrounded by men always had its downsides.

They always thought that you needed protection, which wasn't true in the slightest. You knew what you were getting into when accepting the offer of defeating DIO once and for all. You even had a stand of your own. Yet, it was always "You should stay out of this, Y/N." or "It's dangerous to go there alone. Let me come with you."

It drove you insane, to say the least.

You've told the other crusaders countless times that you were okay and they left you to your own devices. Except for one. Joeseph Joestar.

He had to be the most stubborn man that you've met in your entire life. After your pleading and constant requests to leave you be, he would still watch you like a hawk all day every day.

Although you had to admit that you found his dedication to you quite flattering. Or...maybe you just craved the attention. You couldn't be sure.

Today was another hectic day, with the gang chasing after another enemy stand user that went by the name of Hol Horse. Just a few short moments ago he had shot your beloved comrade Avdol point-blank. After cornering him; however, the slippery cowboy had evaded their grasp. Luckily they wasted no time chasing him down, and they were quickly closing the distance.

"Get back here! I'll kill you for what you did to Avdol!" Polnareff shouted, Silver Chariot attempting to stab at his heels. Hol Horse had now begun shooting with Emporer at the sand, creating a cloud of dust that had made it hard enough to see just about anything. "Shit!" It was later discovered that Chariot's rapier was stabbing at nothing.

"You'll never take me alive!" Hol Horse had begun shooting like a madman now in a desperate attempt at escape. You had kept up with the rest of the bunch this whole time, but Joseph wasn't having any of it.

"Y/N. You have to stay behind me." He glanced back at you to see that you were following his careful orders. You could feel your blood beginning to boil.

"Excuse you? I can take care of myself, thank you very much." Your stand expertly deflected the stray bullets that were flying here and there. Joseph used his Hermit Purple to create a net around you, lifting you off of the ground.

"Hey, what the- you've got to be kidding me right now..." you were now suspended above the sandy terrain, your stand trying to free you from the vine's grasp. It was no use, as Joseph used a spark of Hamon to keep your quest for freedom at bay.

"Sorry Y/N, I know that you're mad. But Hol Horse isn't taking any chances. He's gone crazy, and we can't risk losing you."

You slumped to the bottom of the makeshift net, the sounds of gunfire still ringing in your ears. The statement really should have been: 'I can't risk losing you' at this point. All of the other crusaders have respected your wishes, but Joseph always went that extra mile to make sure that you were protected and safe. Maybe it wasn't all bad, but you figured that another talk with the old man would just do more harm than good at this point.

A couple of minutes had gone by, with you still trapped in your makeshift prison. It was only when you heard the screams of a certain cowboy that you stood up and leaned lightly against the thorny wall.

Hol Horse had finally been caught. Kakyoin was interrogating him about DIO's whereabouts while Jotaro's Star Platinum had him in a chokehold. "Please, please lemme go! I'll tell ya where Mr. DIO is!" He cried, and Joseph let out a low rumble of a laugh. It was strangely...attractive?

"You really think that we're gonna let you go, huh?" He removed his hat to scratch his head. You watched him run his hands through his salt and pepper locks, and from your practically-aerial view, it looked particularly soft?

No....you were not getting feelings for Joseph Joestar. 69-year-old Joseph Joestar. This can't be happening.

Hol Horse was having none of Joseph's teasing. "Please, I'll do anything!" He pleaded. Joseph looked over to Kakyoin, who looked to Jotaro and so on and so forth. No one looked at you, still trapped in vines. You couldn't help but roll your eyes at the idiotic display.

While everyone was exchanging glances to decide what to do, you were the only one who had noticed Hol Horse reaching into his boot. He had something up his sleeve. "Guys, he's got a-!" you tried to shout out to reach the others, but it was no use.

There was an extra gun stashed away that had been neglected in the patdown after his capture. He shot at the sand once more and then ran as if his life depended on it...which it certainly did.

Jotaro pointed in his direction, ready to send Star Platinum into a frenzy. Kakyoin stopped him before he could begin his assault. "It's not worth it, Y/N was the only one who could have possibly prevented that escape from happening." Joseph began to turn around and walk back to where they had thrown their supplies before Kakyoin could call him out. "Now where do you think you're going?"

"Ah, me?" He instinctively put his hand on the back of his neck. "I was just getting a drink! Was probably gonna grab something for Y/N too." He gave a thumbs up.

"Why am I still trapped in his hellhole?" You yelled down to the group. Joseph quickly released his Hermit Purple and you were safely brought back to the ground. "You are so thick. What makes you think that I can't take care of myself, huh?" Out of frustration, your hand had rested itself upon your hip.

"I was just trying to protect you!" He threw up his hands in defense. "That Hol Horse guy is crazy-"

"You wanna know what's crazy? Taking me out of the chase and lifting me into the sky so I wouldn't be in harm's way." You bit your lip in order to avoid saying something that you would later regret.

Before things could get more heated, Polnareff was the one who finally decided to break the tension. "I think that everyone is just tired since we've been out in the sun all day. Tensions are still high from the loss of Avdol, agreed?" Everyone gave a solemn nod. Losing their friend that day had taken a toll on all of them, Polnareff especially.

"He does have a point," Jotaro spoke, folding his arms. "Today's been a rough day for us all. And to top it all off...I'm starving..."

"Me too..." You couldn't deny the sounds that your stomach was making. All of that rage and aggressive towards Joseph had made you work up quite the appetite.

"I've got a great idea! Let's go somewhere special for dinner tonight. To make up for what I did to Y/N." Joseph gave a grin. It made your anger dissipate almost immediately, but you would never let him have the satisfaction of knowing that. "Even better, I'll pay!"

"Fine, but only because you're paying..." You grumbled as you gathered the rest of your earlier confiscated belongings from the heap of supplies on the ground. At least you were being treated to a good meal. ---- After arguing for a solid 30 minutes about where to eat for the night, you all had finally decided on a steakhouse. Even though they were in India, Joseph had insisted on sampling a classic "American" burger because he was feeling homesick.

The waitress that ushered you in was very polite, and soon the 5 of you were settled into a booth, with you and Joseph sitting on one side, and Kakyoin, Polnareff, and Jotaro sitting on the other.

"Can I get you guys something to drink?" The uncomfortably jovial waitress asked around the table and just wrote down a little scribble here and there.

When it was finally your turn, you asked for an iced tea. But not before being cut off by Joseph who insisted that water was the better choice. Thankfully, the booth was so cramped that you could dig your elbow into his side, making him howl with pain. "I'm so sorry about that. If I could get an iced tea that would be great!"

When the woman was out of earshot. Joseph turned to you, still rubbing his side with his prosthetic hand. It accidentally brushed against you, and the chill of the cool metal sent shivers down your spine. "Now, what was that about!"

"I can order a damn beverage for myself, Joseph."

"Someone could have poisoned the iced tea and we don't even know!" He raised his eyebrows along with his voice.

"I'm done fighting. Let's just finish this dinner and find a hotel...I'm exhausted." You sighed, resting your read on the table. Even though you couldn't see it, you could practically feel Joseph's eyes on you.

The rest of the dinner continued in silence. Everyone stared at their plates when the food came out, and so far the only interaction that had occurred during their outing besides the outbursts from Joseph was when Polnareff started choking on his burger.

"This is what I get for eating American food..." He managed between coughs.

"A rather silent bunch tonight, aren't we-" Kakyoin eventually broke the silence, reaching across the table for the ketchup bottle.

"I just don't really feel like talking, that's all." You answered, just pushing around the leftover food on your plate. In reality, you were just trying to process these newly-surfaced feelings for Joseph. You must have been so spaced out that he noticed.

"Hey, space cadet!" He waved his hand in front of your face, causing you to snap out of it. "You okay, Y/N? You've been acting awfully strange."

You could feel a blush creeping up on your features, so you attempted to cover your face. "I-it's nothing, really. I just- haven't eaten beef in a while and it's upsetting my stomach, that's all!" Really? Like he would believe that.

"I've got some medicine in my bag I can give to ya when we're back at the hotel. I don't want you to be in pain." Curse him for caring about you!

"I'll be okay, let's just get out of here." Joseph shrugs and calls the waitress over to bring the check. The rest of the restaurant outing goes smoothly, you guys even got the fancy mints! You each pitched in for the tip, despite protests from Joseph, and made your way back into the stifling desert air.

The hotel check-in was a relatively painless process as well, Jotaro and Kakyoin had decided to room together, and Polnareff offered to share a room with Joseph. That left you with your own room for the night.

Since you usually traveled in even numbers, finally having a room to yourself for once was pretty nice. Although, you wished that it could have been under different circumstances. When you entered your single suite you all but ran to the bed, throwing your bags on the ground. The soft sheets welcomed you and lulled you into a deep sleep.

That was until you were woken up from your precious slumber by a sharp knock at the door.

You checked your phone, seeing that only a couple hours had passed since you had checked in and bid the rest of the group goodnight. Looking out the window, you could tell that the sun had already set, giving way to a night sky accompanied by a slight breeze. Nights in the desert could be pleasant sometimes.

"Coming!" You shouted, looking in the mirror quickly to make sure that you didn't look like a complete and utter mess. After giving yourself the once over you peered into the peephole to see Joseph. He was clutching a bag and some water. 'Oh yeah, the medicine.'

You opened the door, and he gave you a wide smile. "Good evening! I came to bring you that medicine. And I got some water too!" He playfully shook the bottle in his hand. What a goofball.

"That's very sweet of you, Joseph." You felt the corners of your lips tug upward, threatening to form a smile. God, you couldn't deny how charming he was. "Why don't you come inside."

"Okay, if you insist!" He stepped across the threshold and shut the door carefully behind him. He handed you the medicine and water and walked across the room to sit on your bed. "I see that you already broke this bad boy in." He gestured to the sheets, which had still been rustled from your nap.

"Yeah, I was exhausted after everything that happened today." You decided to be bold and sit down on the bed next to him. He almost flinched a little when he felt the bed covers dip beside him. Was Joseph Joestar getting a little flustered?

"Y/N, now that we're here. I actually have something else to tell you." The grip on your water bottle tightened, and you took a shaky swig.

"Oh yeah, what's that? You finally want to apologize for all those times that you got in my way?" You tried to avoid eye contact as much as possible.

"No, actually. I find myself doing those things because I can't stand to live in a world without you. I really you Y/N-" The last sentence came out a little rushed, but your eyes went wide.

You were holding the water bottle so tightly at this point that it was a bit uncomfortable. Being taken aback by the confession, you just sat in silence for a bit. Finally, after a few seconds of unbearable quiet, you spoke up. "Well, that explains a lot actually."

"It does, doesn't it." Joseph moved a little closer to you, now gently holding your free hand. "I don't mean to sound like a bother to you, but I just can't stand to see you hurt. I know that you are probably more than a little uncomfortable with the age difference, anybody would be but-" You cut off his rambling with a quick kiss.

You giggled as you watched his face turned red. He was completely speechless for once. "You really need to learn when to shut up sometimes. I've been denying my feelings for too long as well. It's about time that I was completely honest with myself."

"You- you really feel the same way?" Joseph was absolutely bewildered at this point, for he was not expecting this response. You nodded your head in response.

"But, from now on if this is gonna work out, you gotta let me off the leash a little. Or else I'll have to... tickle you or something." You set your water bottle on the nearby nightstand and stood up.

"Empty threats, empty threats I say." Joseph blew a raspberry. He also stood up, and you noticed the size difference between the two of you. His tallness was insanely attractive, to the point where it wasn't fair. "Well, I better get going."

"You don't have to if you don't want to, it gets lonely here at night." You shot him a pleading look, slapping the covers where he once sat.

He walked over to you and picked you up, your legs were now wrapped around his giant torso. "You would like that, wouldn't you." Your lips were dangerously close to touching, but he decided not to close the distance, much to your dismay.

"Well, it sounds like a good idea to me." Your arms were draped around the back of his neck. They reached up to play with his hair, and you cherished the feeling of his soft strands. 'His hair really is that soft...'

"You're gonna have to let me grab my clothes then, I'm not sleeping in these." He was still wearing his daily attire.

You slid off of him reluctantly. 'I guess I'll let you go then. Don't take too long."

"No promises!" He teased, exiting your room, leaving you to shut the door behind him. You leaned against the door before closing it, admiring his retreating assets.

After shutting the door, you leaned against it and smiled. That was quite the unexpected turn of events. At least you found out the reason behind Joseph's constant nagging, and quite honestly you wouldn't have it any other way.

#part 3 joseph #oldseph #oldseph x reader #jjba x reader #jjba #jojo #jojos bizarre adventure #stardust crusaders #i loved writing this #oldseph just really has me like *this*#he's so incredible i can't #joseph joestar #joseph joestar x reader

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