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burnedbyshoto · 4 years

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a nurses job

— Bakugou breaks his arms and as a nurse, you have the responsibility to make sure that he is comfortable, even when he needs to use the bathroom.

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pairing: pro hero!bakugou katsuki x nurse fem!reader

warnings: smut, 18+, prohero!bakugou, golden showers/water sports/piss kink, degradation (giving), dirty talk, lusting/pining, handjobs

word count: 5,050

a/n: so, I was going to make this a piss in ur mouth and pussy type of fic, but I kept seeing all those beautiful bakugou piss arts where he’s with a nurse.... so this is inspired and brought upon by all the water sports bakugou x nurse art ive seen for three months.

kinktober day 21 main kink: piss | kinktober masterlist

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You’re not quite sure what persuaded you into wanting to become a nurse as a child.

Maybe it was because your quirk (when you hum at an A flat, everyone within 5 meters experiences accelerated healing properties) was useless for Pro Hero work, so you realized early on that being a Pro Hero was a distant dream. Maybe it was because medical staff were still hailed as everyday heroes despite being in a world with people who could perform extraordinary achievements. It started as a small obsession to prove to the soon to be jobless, dream broken, and graduated failures of the hero course high schools that you had done more than them. That you, unlike them, were recognized as a hero.

You were decent with math and science, so you strove for medical school. But with the horrendous costs of schooling, your then living situation, and your dislike of unneeded and unwanted competitive stress, you deterred toward the nursing pathway. It was a pathway where you really found yourself, or at least, you thought so.

Empathy, emotion, and the need to see people come out of a hospital better than when they entered was something that grew on you quickly and obviously. Your earliest clinical rounds often left you with swollen, tired feet from walking around for restless hours, but with a smile on your face that was irreplicable. With every semester in school, you got better, connected better with your patients. Your feet still ache after long shifts, and sometimes your smile is hollow and broken, and if you look closely, you could see dried tears and puffy eyelids, but you wouldn’t ever regret this decision to become a nurse.

At twenty-five, newly graduated from nursing school, already working full time at the best hospital in Japan, while studying for your degree to eventually become a nurse practitioner. You loved your job quite a lot. They had placed you immediately within their Post-OP, ICU, and recovery wings, and even though you were somewhat new, you were celebrating a year of working in a few weeks, you already had some… more than familiar faces.

“Well, Ground Zero-san, I guess you owe me a drink because unless my eyes are deceiving me, it looks like both your arms are broken, no?” you hum, your grin bright and wide, not even attempting to hide it’s glee as your high profile patient sat seething on the hospital bed. “It’s been, what? Two weeks since you last showed up here? You getting old?”

“Oh, would you shut the fuck up, you shitty ass nurse?!” Bakugou snarled, his arms obviously trying to tense and move against the large casts that envelope him. “The fuck would you expect to happen when facing off with a quirk that’s specifically meant to break people’s arms?!”

“Deku didn’t break any arms,” you point out with a soft laugh, eyes still scanning and reading through his charts to check his medical needs and medicine prescribed by the attending and when he should be taking them. “A bit weird that only half of the Wonder Duo was indescribably injured, no?”

A loud snarl ripped from Bakugou’s throat, and you stifled your own laughter as you raised your eyesight to look him straight in his raging eyes.

“I took that damn nerds hits because he’s broken his arms so many fucking times he’ll be forced to amputate them if he breaks them again!” Bakugou’s eyes were near white in his anger, but the intensity of his emotions was heavily diminished by the fact that his arms were strapped to his chest in thick, round bandages.

“You can admit you care for him,” you chide, ignoring his ‘like hell I do!’ Placing the chart down and walking to his IV drip, you checked to see if anything he was hooked to required any changes or whatnot. “Besides, this is not the first time I’ve seen you in here! It was quite surprising to see Ground Zero on bedrest on my first ever shift here.”

That much was true.

You had been working at Tokyo Hospital for nearly nine months now. Within the nine months, you saw a lot of heroes; that much was true. Your quirk was versatile as a nurse, and you were bright, young, very good at your job, and definitely a beautiful individual. So, when you were assigned to be working most of your days healing heroes because they were the backbone of the country, it didn’t quite catch you by surprise. It was a common assignment you had as a nursing student too.

You just didn’t expect the head nurse of the floor to assign one of your five rooms to be holding none other than Ground Zero, a.k.a Bakugou Katsuki.

Of course, you weren’t an idiot. You had known about the explosion hero since high school! You had sat in front of your TV in high school, attempting to do your homework while watching the rather intensive first-year battles. He had done well in every stage, placing within the top three each time and even winning the game! You had cringed at the awards ceremony but had been horrified at the news of his kidnapping.

But after that, with the rising tensions of the villain world upon the dying world left behind by All Might, you had forgotten him for a moment. As time went on, and finally, a new support system was brought forth, Ground Zero, much like his quirk entailed, exploded onto the scene alongside Deku and a few other young heroes.

So, sure, you expected to maybe one day run into the ash-blond hero, but you didn’t expect it to happen on day one.

All things considered, the two of you got along rather well.

His... strong personality did make you wary of him at first, taking his near verbal barrage until you, very flusteredly he will argue, told him to ‘shut up, you butthole!’

You were horrified at your lack of professionalism, and Bakugou had gone silent as he stared at you in silence.

“Did you just call me a butthole?” he echoed, his face full of emotions you could not read. You felt on the verge of panicking, unsure if he was going to potentially tell on you! The sounds of a barking laughter rang in your ear, and you looked up to see his grinning, much more relaxed form. “Are you some shitty preschooler?!”

Thus began a working relationship of sorts between you and Bakugou.

He was an asshole, and you tried your best to not let him talk you off a cliff. It didn’t take very long for you to find out what made him tick surprisingly enough, and you used that to your advantage. The best way to tease him right now was by reminding him that he had been hospitalized more times than Deku, who apparently had held the record for the number of hospitalizations between him and his friends.

“Are you going to mention that shit first meeting every time we talk?!” Bakugou barked, his eyes narrowed as he turned his head away from you.

“After you admit you care deeply for all your friends!” you chirp back, stepping away from his IV drip, satisfied by what you saw. “Well, you look good for now. I’ll be checking up on you every ten to fifteen minutes since you can’t press the button until we can get those casts off! Did ya need anything before I go check on my other patients?”

“Open the damn window; it’s stuffy in here,” Bakugou grumbled, his face finally facing you again.

“Of course,” you smile cheekily, your eyes squinting with your broad grin. “It’s a nurse's job to make their patients comfortable and happy!”

Standing at the side of the bed, you stretched over Bakugou to grab the edge of the window and slide it open. Through your stance, you were entirely aware of how this looked, how this felt. Your breasts centimeters from Bakugou’s face, your eyes never once breaking from the window to feign your innocence as you finally pull away. Even with scrubs on, you could feel his hot, sharp breathes expelling through your clothes, his ears tinging just the smallest bit red as you smile.

“Anything else?” you asked sweetly, failing to hide your impish grin.

“Put the water cup close by,” he grunted, eyes staring at the liter of water at his side table. Well, he wouldn’t be able to use his arms until just before he was set to be discharged, so moving the water closer was a good idea.

Nodding, you grabbed a nearby cup, filling it three-quarters of a way full before placing it onto the feeding table and dragging it near his mouth, a bendy straw already secured into the cup. You watched as he shot forward, putting the plastic straw into his mouth and beginning to drink the cold water. His eyes were back on yours, deceivingly cold had you already not been an expert on his personality.

With one final soft chuckle, you waved at Bakugou as you headed out, a cheerful smile on your face as he continued to drink his water.

“See ya in a few!”

Well, you guess there was one more important detail about your relationship with Bakugou Katsuki. For the past five months, you have been doing everything in your power to seduce him — to get him to admit that he wanted you too.

You knew the ethics and the morals behind falling for a patient of yours, much less a high profile patient at that. You knew that if your little crush was ever found out, you would most definitely be moved from his room. You were also damningly aware that you should have brought up your initial feelings for the explosion hero to your admin the moment it arose. But the thought and the way you were always so happy to be around him eventually overruled your logic. Five months ago, you had stayed at the hospital until nearly three am, talking with a severely concussed Bakugou. You were stationed for an overnight round with the task of making sure that he didn’t fall asleep. And for the first time in your time knowing Bakugou, the two of you somehow clicked into place, and when he was discharged the next morning — the nurse who had a quirk to rid of concussions finally arriving — he had thanked you.

It was so benign, so incredibly simple, yet the way the golden sunshine illuminated his blond hair and made his red eyes shine like a ruby, you found your own tired body feeling heated and warm. He wasn’t such a lousy conversationalist, and you had already enjoyed all your interactions together, yet it still caught you off guard to feel your heart pounding in your throat as he pulled on his jacket and left.

So after coming to terms with your sudden infatuation for the stubborn hero, you began to express your desires and feelings for him without having to say it. For all that he was worth and all that he expressed himself to be extremely observant, Bakugou Katsuki still had no idea that you liked him.

Unfortunately, your scrub nurse uniform wasn’t precisely seductive. The light blue of the breathable, sterile uniform was about as unsexy as uniforms got. But that never stopped you from leaning in too close when doing what Bakugou demanded of you. It didn’t prevent you from accidentally dropping papers in front of him and bending over to show off the curves of your ass.

There had never been a time such as this one where you hated that the old, ‘sexy’ nurse outfits were no longer up to standard and banned from use. How you would have loved to be wearing gartered held stockings just to accidentally flash to Bakugou. But, you suppose that it’s alright. Even though your feelings and ambitions to get the Pro Hero to like you as much as you did him, you never tried to push it.

For now, you were just an asshole tease.

You carried out the rest of your rounds in peace, your pager sitting comfortably in your pocket, unused, unneeded for now. The rest of your four patients were doing well for now.

One was asleep, most likely due to the medicine coursing through his veins, but his vitals remained unchanged.

Another was in the process of getting ready to be discharged, her family there to help her in leaving.

The third was eating his dinner, eyes concentrated on a poker game on the TV as he asked you to help fluff his pillow.

The last was busy with a physical therapist, her forehead slick with sweat as she attempted to sit up from her chair.

All in all, they were all doing fine, and you were back to the beginning, back to Bakugou’s room.

You entered his closed room door to be greeted by an empty bed. Your eyes widened immediately, the initial wave of pure horror flashing through you that by some freak accident, some murderous villain had kidnapped the injured hero straight from the hospital bed.

“Ground Zero-san?!” you called out, a pitched voice of concern frilling your voice as you stumbled through the room. Your eyes were frantically searching the room, fingers feeling the lingering warmth of his body on the bed and your eyes noticing the empty water cup on his table still. The sheets of his bed haphazardly thrown off as if in a struggle.

Your fingers wound around the panic button, your ears straining to hear any sort of sign of Bakugou still being here.

A gritted teeth snarl was muffled from the attached bathroom, and you froze, unable to move as you felt the untouched button in your hands turn as light as a feather. You approached the bathroom door with soft footsteps, the smile on your face, unable to be stopped as you pulled the door open.

The sight you happened upon was something that made your lips curl into a wider smirk as the hospital clothed-clad hero absolutely struggled with his lack of functioning hands and arms to pull down his pants. Something he couldn’t do himself because the socks and slippers on his feet kept him from even attempting to tug his pants off with his toes.

In his struggle, undoubtedly miserable attempt to get his pants and underwear off his waist, Bakugou seemed ignorant to your arrival. His back still towards you, his head tilted down in his struggle as he twisted and pulled at practically nothing.

And as you watched him struggle, you couldn’t help but let your eyes drink in his form that stood tall before you. Most occurrences where you found yourself face to face with Bakugou, he was always tucked in a bed (except that time you realized your feeling for him), whether it was because he needed to be or because he was forced to be. So seeing him in his full height, seeing how despite your size, you were still only at his shoulder, made your eyelashes flutter.

He was tall, so deliciously tall, you wanted to climb onto a chair to see if he would be taller even with that added height. And oh how the flimsy material of his hospital outfit was stretched then against the taut muscles of his back. They flexed and shifted with his aggravation, and the only thought on your mind was to rake your fingers against the tempting muscle and skin.

“Shitty. fucking. villain!” he hissed angrily, sweat trickling down the back of his neck as he still struggled to do what nature called him for.

But you couldn’t help it; the flexing muscles of his back, the lower tenor of his voice, and the way he seemed ridiculously larger than life at the moment tipped your restraint over. Your ability to hold back crashing through you like a tsunami wave, drowning you until you found your hand tethered to the tight spot at the center of his spine, your hushed words drifting to his ear like sweet, warm honey.

“You need any help here, Ground Zero-san?” you asked, your voice just loud enough to have your hot breath fanning against his sweaty exposed neck. You could feel him twitch in your hold, his body stiffening as he whipped his head around to look at you, red eyes wild, wide, and dark.

“Don’t ya know how to fucking knock?!” he snapped, his body flushed at being caught in the bathroom, unable to shed his clothes. He doesn’t move from your touch, and that small detail makes you warm, knowing that he wasn’t entirely repulsed by your touch.

“You were missing from your bed, and I called your name,” you smile despite his angry glare. “I know you are susceptible to hear loss, but I thought you were still in the clear.”

“I ain’t fucking deaf,” Bakugou growled, his face twisted with a frown. “And that still doesn’t explain why the hell you’re here!”

“Oh, were you not just completely struggling earlier?” you feign shock, the grin on your face unstoppable at the embarrassed scowl that sets on his face. You step even closer to him so that your torso is perpendicular to his side. Your hand still gently touching his muscled back, and your free hand gently pressing to his own abdomen, the feeling of his flexed muscles, making you dizzy as you peer down at the white toilet. “Is there a villain in the toilet? I didn’t think that was possible!”

“Of fucking course not, there’s not a shitty villain in the toilet.” Bakugou flushed, his body entirely trapped by you, but he made no play to escape.

“Oh, so did you need help?”

Bakugou stares at you, his mind whirling a kilometer a second as he contemplates his next course of action. The both of you know he needs help, and still, the both of you are aware that his ability to ask of that from you is slim to none given he couldn’t even wait for you to return to his room.

“Tch,” he clicks his tongue angrily, annoyed, completely fed up. His eyes rolling to the ceiling, refusing to acknowledge you as his head nods once. “Help me, shitass nurse.”

“Of course!” you chirp, your eyes finding his hooded ones.

You give him one last warm, sweet smile before the hand on his torso lightly drags down his stomach, soft in its unashamed way of feeling him up. Your head tilted as your fingers hooked into the tight waistband of his pants and pulled it down, the heat of your palm accidentally dragging itself over the imprint of his cock behind his boxers.

The slight, flustered choking noise at the back of his throat didn’t go ignored by you, but rather but aside for later. Your eyes flashing up to see his red eyes wide, his cheeks so lightly dusted with pink as you managed to pull down his boxers too.

“There!” you exclaim, your eyes closing in your grin before you turn your attention back down to his exposed dick.

Immediately, you had to hold back a noise of pure want and lust at the sight of him. He was long, undoubtedly eight inches, definitely more. Although you couldn’t tell how thick, you knew his dick would fill your palm without a struggle. The trimmed, dark blond pubes and the protruding veins are what did it for you, your tongue poking out for a millisecond to wet your lips as you stared at his dark pink head.

“Stop staring at it!” Bakugou hissed, clearly embarrassed if the slight voice crack said anything about it.

You looked back up at him, fake confusion swimming in your eyes as you tilted your head. “It’s only a penis. I see millions of these all the time.”

“Yeah, but it’s fucking weird!”

A soft laugh escaped your lips, your eyes rolling softly as you sighed in retreat, “Fine, fine, let's pee big boy and get you in bed.”

With your dominant hand, you grabbed his dick with a soft grip, pleasure simmering through you at the confirmation of the thick dick in your palm. But it seemed you weren’t the only one who thought that for the moment you tried to steer his dick toward the toilet to assist in aim, Bakugou hissed loudly. His flesh twitching to life in your warm, soft hand as it began to grow upward.

You didn’t say anything; your jaw remained as tight and closed as your vocal box despite the egging need to tease him and celebrate his apparent approval of your touch. So, eventually, in a voice that defied the nervous energy coursing through your veins, you asked: “Didn’t you need to pee?”

Bakugou let out a throaty, guttural groan, his anger hissing between his teeth as his dick twitched again in your hold, growing longer and harder still.

“I can’t take a damn piss with a hard-on, you idiot!” he roared despite the strawberry red blush on his cheeks. You admired the way he was still fighting for control of an upper hand here despite — clearly — not having any.

“Oh, haha! Silly me!” you laugh, your hand shifting against his length, your warm palm getting closer to the base of his cock.

“W-What are you doing?!” Bakugou spluttered, your soft butterfly touches sending him through a loop he clearly wasn’t expecting. “You could just wait for it to die!”

“It’s a nurse's job to make their patients comfortable and happy,” you repeat your words, your hold on his dick growing firmer and harder just as his cock continued to do. “You clearly need to pee, and there’s no telling when your cock will go down.”

“I’LL MAKE IT GO DOWN!” Bakugou yells, but the usual sharpness to his tone has deflated, diminished to nothing but whining embarrassed yell. You look up at his clenched jaw and how a pretty pink glows on his cheeks, and you’re mesmerized.

Looking back down at his growing cock that warms your hand immensely, you hum, slightly twisting your hand around his length. Bakugou shudders, a whine hidden in his throat as you open your own mouth.

“Do you want me to stop?” you question, your eyes fluttering up to look at his clouded red ones. “Do you not need or want me?”

That was a double-headed question if Bakugou ever heard one. He looked at your glossy lips, the way they were pouted, so ready to be kissed, to be claimed, and that delirious look of want and need in your eyes. And he knows better; he knows that this is not the place, not the time to act on emotions like this. The need to pee sits heavily on his lower belly, just like the need to cum makes him twitch and pace uncomfortably. God fucking damn his broken to smithereens arms.

But you already know this, of course, you do. But you also know how stubborn he can be, how anal he can be about the littlest thing. So with no answer, you weaken your grip, making him think that you’re ready to leave, and he falls right into the trap.

“Make it fucking q-quick,” his voice cracks, the embarrassment nearly tangible as you nod your head firmly, your fist tightening around his cock.

Your warm fingers pressed onto his length, beginning at a slow leisurely pace, your eyes glued onto his face, detailing how he reacts to every small flick of your wrist, every little difference of grip in his hands. Your strokes began to grow larger, your fingertips tracing the bulging veins on his cock, your eyes hypnotized by the way his face pinches in his pleasure, the blush on his cheeks, the way the hot pants expelling from his mouth curl warmly in your lower belly.

“Y-You do this with all your shitty patients?” Bakugou growls, but it sounds weak, too blurred and slurred with his increasing pleasure.

Your fingernails drag against the underneath of his cock, tracing the incredibly sensitive skin until he’s slowly thrusting his hips into your fist. “Only the hot ones,” you tease, your thumb pressing against the tip of his beading tip, the warm pre-cum slick and spreading quickly against his flushed tip.

“You’re fucking disgusting,” Bakugou continues, his head tipping backward, exposing the slenderness of his neck that begs for your teeth to sink into. “Just needed to take a fucking piss.”

“Nervous, you’ll pee all over me, and I won’t want to suck your dick?” you ask, your fingers brushing near his scrotum, eyes blazing dangerously at the sight of his gasping, jaw-dropping face. His hips rut forward, leaking cock dripping with his pre-cum, and you giggle softly, fisting him faster, spreading the pre-cum against his heated sex.

Your fingers run against his throbbing length, your palm tight and hot against his cock, the veins you drag across searing against your flesh, ingraining itself onto your skin and memory forever. Despite it all, the obvious near tangible horror Bakugou has on the thought of pissing on you, he continues to fuck into your fist.

“Damn bitch like you would probably l-like it if I pissed on you,” Bakugou pants, his casted arms twitching at his chest. His head tilted away from you, but his eyes burning into you, the red eyes hot as fire against your skin. “You want me to piss on you? Make you my bitch.”

The words burn against your skin, your teeth biting onto your lower lip as you meet his gaze. You’ve never considered it before, never thought you’d be into it. As a nurse, you’ve been around piss, shit, and vomit, and while you had grown unfazed by it, you never considered the prospect of a man pissing on you. But you thought of it, of Bakugou standing above you, free from his casts, hands on his cock as he smirks down at you with golden liquid spraying from his cock, soaking you where you lay.

You shudder, pleasant chills running down your spine as you stare into his eyes yet again.

“And if I do?” you ask, fingers rolling the head of his cock between your forefinger and thumb, relishing in the way that he snarls low in his throat. “What’re you gonna do about that, Ground Zero-san? You gonna piss all over your bitch after you get out of here.”

“You want me to piss on you here?” he asks, his voice snappish, strained, his hips drilling harder into your hand that was quickly speeding up. A battle of power and speed between the both of you as he looms over you, face flushed, pink, and lips demanding to be kissed. “Wouldn’t be surprised if you do.”

“Why’s that?” you breathe, his lips tantalizingly close to yours, a breath away as your hand grips and tightens even more around the base of his cock, causing a pained-pleasured hiss to rip from behind his teeth as he looks at you.

“Don’t act like your shitty ass hasn’t been trying to seduce me every time I show up,” Bakugou gruffs, his hips continuing a drilling rhythm into your fist, his body no longer shy or embarrassed.

“So you noticed but never said anything?” you counter, your fingers shifting over to his swollen, hot balls. You fondle them, tugging at their weight gently, taking in the way his eyes roll to the back of his head and the way his teeth tear into his lip. “Coward.”

“Hah?! Who the fuck—”

You can’t help yourself anymore, your mouth coming to slam against his in a piercing, searing kiss. He moans into the kiss, and you gasp back, tongues clashing together, teeth knocking into each other as awkward, nearing uncomfortable kisses are exchanged. His sweet scent of caramel wafts into your nose, and his grunts and groans are addicting, entirely enthusiastic noises that send your own thighs clenching shut to quiet the heated need in between your thighs.

Your hand increases in its speed, his whines and groans so pretty and piercing into you.

“How fucking gross,” you laugh into his mouth, the slicked heat of his precum lathering your palm until soft noises of your fisting hand begin to fill the sterile bathroom. “You’re a child, wanting to piss on things that you shouldn’t. You came to the bathroom and got a hard-on instead of pissing, Bakugou, aren’t you embarrassed.”

“Y-Y/l/n,” he hissed, his jaw falling slack against your mouth. His hips are drilling into you faster and faster, the throbbing of his cock, the growing, thick scent of his caramel sweat filling the room and your senses. “F-Fuck!”

“Such a dirty, childish pro hero,” you smile your tongue curling into his mouth and dragging against the roof of his mouth as he shudders helplessly against you. “Cum already, Bakugou, cum and piss over yourself like some small brat.”

He shudders, and you find your mouth leaving his own as you stare down, spurting white ropes of cum pour from his tip, completely covering the toilet seat with his sticky white cum. And you watch as soon as his body collapses onto you, entirely spent from the orgasm, yellow piss streaming from his tip.

The toilet fills with his cum and piss, and you grin once his balls and bladder are completely drained. His cock limp and weak in your hand as you hum, your quirk activating and causing the exhausted Pro Hero to recompose himself so that he wasn’t entirely weak against you.

“Such a good patient,” you coo, pulling up Bakugou’s boxers and hospital pants without a second's thought. Patting his butt gently, you watched as his still exhausted red eyes stared at you. You walked over to the sink, washing your hands so that you could continue to finish the rest of your shift.

“Don’t think this is over, shitty nurse.”

You look at him over your shoulder, your fingers curling under the warm water as you grin.

“I expect to be fucked and pissed on next time,” you counter, your smirk devastating and sending a fire right back to Bakugou’s groin. “No freebies anymore.”

#bakugou x reader #bakugou smut #bnha #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bbs kinktober 2020 #tw: water sports

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the-king-andthe-lionheart · 3 years

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So this is definitely in response to that certain dark section of our fandom (you know exactly who you are) who are throwing a fit about the Arya and Daenerys fandoms enjoying the possibility of a canon Daenarya friendship in the future. So let’s look at all the quotes that possibly foreshadow a future Arya and Dany friendship and put it into context.

It was very dark right now, she realized. She hugged her bare knees tight against her chest and shivered. She would wait quietly and count to ten thousand. By then it would be safe for her to come creeping back out and find her way home.

By the time she had reached eighty-seven, the room had begun to lighten as her eyes adjusted to the blackness. Slowly the shapes around her took on form. Huge empty eyes stared at her hungrily through the gloom, and dimly she saw the jagged shadows of long teeth. She had lost the count. She closed her eyes and bit her lip and sent the fear away. When she looked again, the monsters would be gone. Would never have been. She pretended that Syrio was beside her in the dark, whispering in her ear. Calm as still water, she told herself. Strong as a bear. Fierce as a wolverine. She opened her eyes again.

The monsters were still there, but the fear was gone.

Arya got to her feet, moving warily. The heads were all around her. She touched one, curious, wondering if it was real. Her fingertips brushed a massive jaw. It felt real enough. The bone was smooth beneath her hand, cold and hard to the touch. She ran her fingers down a tooth, black and sharp, a dagger made of darkness. It made her shiver.

"It's dead," she said aloud. "It's just a skull, it can't hurt me." Yet somehow the monster seemed to know she was there. She could feel its empty eyes watching her through the gloom, and there was something in that dim, cavernous room that did not love her. She edged away from the skull and backed into a second, larger than the first. For an instant she could feel its teeth digging into her shoulder, as if it wanted a bite of her flesh. Arya whirled, felt leather catch and tear as a huge fang nipped at her jerkin, and then she was running. Another skull loomed ahead, the biggest monster of all, but Arya did not even slow. She leapt over a ridge of black teeth as tall as swords, dashed through hungry jaws, and threw herself against the door. - Arya III AGOT

Here is the initial passage that has to do with dragons in Arya’s story. She comes across the dragon skulls in the dark and feels afraid of them. She feels as if the eyes of the skulls were watching her and did not like her. She also doesn’t recognize them for what they are. She initially refers to them as monsters, but later she comes to realize they are dragons:

This time the monsters did not frighten her. They seemed almost old friends. Arya held the candle over her head. With each step she took, the shadows moved against the walls, as if they were turning to watch her pass. "Dragons," she whispered. She slid Needle out from under her cloak. The slender blade seemed very small and the dragons very big, yet somehow Arya felt better with steel in her hand. - Arya IV AGOT

Now admittedly the first quote does sound like the foreshadowing could suggest antagonism between Arya and Dany, but the second quote doesn’t suggest this. Arya thinks of them as if they are old friends. That is the most notable sentence of the paragraph, not the fact that she slid Needle out. But when you actually look at this paragraph you actually see a duality here. The monsters did not frighten her. They seemed almost old friends. Yet she slides her blade out and feels better? So for me this quote just seems to foreshadow that Dany will be Arya’s friend, yet Arya will remain wary of her dragons like anyone naturally would be.

So putting these two quotes into context, it tells us that if Arya and Dany will meet they will initially be antagonistic and wary of each other (most Daenarya fans I’ve seen acknowledge this will likely be the case). However it also suggests that this wariness will eventually fade and they will become friends. Arya doesn’t need to think she is wholly safe from the dragons to have a friendship with Dany. EVERYONE is wary about the dragons, just like most people would be unsure and most likely afraid if they were in the same room as a large cat or a bear.

But this isn’t Arya’s only dragon connections in the narrative. Arya’s closest relationship is with Jon, who is half Targaryen. In Braavos Arya is fascinated by the courtesans and the Black Pearl in particular:

"The Black Pearl," she told them. Merry claimed the Black Pearl was the most famous courtesan of all. "She's descended from the dragons, that one," the woman had told Cat. "The first Black Pearl was a pirate queen. A Westerosi prince took her for a lover and got a daughter on her, who grew up to be a courtesan. Her own daughter followed her, and her daughter after her, until you get to this one [...] - Cat of the Canals AFFC

The woman with him could not have been more than a third his age. She was so lovely that the lamps seemed to burn brighter when she passed. She had dressed in a low-cut gown of pale yellow silk, startling against the light brown of her skin. Her black hair was bound up in a net of spun gold, and a jet-and-gold necklace brushed against the top of her full breasts. As they watched, she leaned close to the envoy and whispered something in his ear that made him laugh. "They should call her the Brown Pearl," Mercy said to Daena. "She's more brown than black."

"The first Black Pearl was black as a pot of ink," said Daena. "She was a pirate queen, fathered by a Sealord's son on a princess from the Summer Isles. A dragon king from Westeros took her for his lover."

"I would like to see a dragon," Mercy said wistfully. - Mercy TWOW

There is even foreshadowing that Arya will form a closer relationship with the Black Pearl in the future by becoming an apprentice for her so Arya can refine her highborn manners so it’s easier for the FM to place her into highborn society to do their work, because why not utilize a highborn girl in this way?

But also notice that Arya/Mercy is friends with a girl named “Daena” which is ridiculously close to the name Daenerys. And in the same conversation with Daena (Daenerys) Arya/Mercy also said she wished to see a dragon. And no this isn’t “Mercy’s” wish, this is Arya’s wish:

As Arya crossed the yard to the bathhouse, she spied a raven circling down toward the rookery, and wondered where it had come from and what message it carried. Might be it's from Robb, come to say it wasn't true about Bran and Rickon. She chewed on her lip, hoping. If I had wings I could fly back to Winterfell and see for myself. And if it was true, I'd just fly away, fly up past the moon and the shining stars, and see all the things in Old Nan's stories, dragons and sea monsters and the Titan of Braavos, and maybe I wouldn't ever fly back unless I wanted to. - Arya X ACOK

Doesn’t really sound like Arya hates dragons or have any issues regarding them. She wants to see them irregardless of any fear they may inspire within her that everyone would naturally have upon seeing a dragon.

Arya also expresses a wish to fly throughout her narrative and she also has wing symbolism in her arc:

If I was a crow I could fly down and peck off his stupid fat pouty lips. - Arya X ACOK

If I had wings I could fly back to Winterfell and see for myself. And if it was true, I'd just fly away, fly up past the moon and the shining stars, and see all the things in Old Nan's stories, dragons and sea monsters and the Titan of Braavos, and maybe I wouldn't ever fly back unless I wanted to. - Arya X ACOK

I wish I could change into a wolf and grow wings and fly away. - Arya XIII ASOS

She might be bald and skinny, but Mercy had a pretty smile, and a certain grace. Even Izembaro agreed that she was graceful. She was not far from the Gate as the crows flies, but for girls with feet instead of wings the way was longer. - Mercy TWOW

Also lets not forget how similar Arya and Dany are to each other and how many parallels they share. They are both lost princesses exiled and sent to Essos, specifically Braavos, after their father's deaths at the hands of Lannister's. They each know what it's like to be bought and sold and to be enslaved – Dany as a child bride and Arya as a child soldier. And they both have pretenders trying to take their claims. Both have been forced into becoming smallfolk, living in poverty and starved. And they both know what it's like to be hunted and scared. They adapt exceedingly well into other environments and cultures, and their morality and sense of justice are very attuned, as they seek to protect those that can not protect themselves. Very protective, they are both empathetic and maternal and care for the sick, ailing, and dying. Both of them are survivors and have both suffered abuse and sexual assault (more so for Dany, but it's still there). They are both clever and know how to manipulate people. They are both polyglots and both of their deepest desires are for home and family/pack. They both try to live up to the image of their older siblings (ie Sansa and Rhaegar). Arya is said to look and act like Lyanna and Daenerys is compared to Rhaegar by the people that knew him. They are both very close to their house sigils and even dream about them and the mystical beasts they both own. They both love horseback riding and they both have encountered mystical prophets. Wanted/considered becoming sailors and they both have fantastic people skills. Not to mention that it was Arya who said that the slaves should have killed the masters, while Dany is leading a slave uprising to overthrow and yes, execute the masters.

Dany is also not some “mad queen” and she does listen to the people who knew her father and Rhaegar. She is learning the truth about the monster her father was and learning to accept that. So there is no reason why Dany should continue to feel antagonistic towards the next generation of Stark’s for something they didn’t do.

I’ve also seen comments about how the fire devastation that is within Arya’s story must clearly mean “Dark Dany” and that Arya and Dany will be antagonistic towards each other in canon when they meet. I’m assuming these people are referring to the burning barn scene:

"You take her!" she yelled. "You get her out! You do it!" The fire beat at her back with hot red wings as she fled the burning barn. It felt blessedly cool outside, but men were dying all around her. She saw Koss throw down his blade to yield, and she saw them kill him where he stood. Smoke was everywhere. There was no sign of Yoren, but the axe was where Gendry had left it, by the woodpile outside the haven. As she wrenched it free, a mailed hand grabbed her arm. Spinning, Arya drove the head of the axe hard between his legs. She never saw his face, only the dark blood seeping between the links of his hauberk. Going back into that barn was the hardest thing she ever did. Smoke was pouring out the open door like a writhing black snake, and she could hear the screams of the poor animals inside, donkeys and horses and men. She chewed her lip, and darted through the doors, crouched low where the smoke wasn't quite so thick.

A donkey was caught in a ring of fire, shrieking in terror and pain. She could smell the stench of burning hair. The roof was gone up too, and things were falling down, pieces of flaming wood and bits of straw and hay. Arya put a hand over her mouth and nose. She couldn't see the wagon for the smoke, but she could still hear Biter screaming. She crawled toward the sound. - Arya IV ACOK

Arya rolled headfirst into the tunnel and dropped five feet. She got dirt in her mouth but she didn't care, the taste was fine, the taste was mud and water and worms and life. Under the earth the air was cool and dark. Above was nothing but blood and roaring red and choking smoke and the screams of dying horses. She moved her belt around so Needle would not be in her way, and began to crawl. A dozen feet down the tunnel she heard the sound, like the roar of some monstrous beast, and a cloud of hot smoke and black dust came billowing up behind her, smelling of hell. Arya held her breath and kissed the mud on the floor of the tunnel and cried. For whom, she could not say. - Arya IV ACOK

This chapter does not mean that Dany is going to go “evil” or “mad” and start burning stuff to the ground. You guys do remember that Dany has three dragons right? And that Dany is only the dragonrider to Drogon? That leaves two other possible dragons that could be stolen from Dany. We have Euron/Victarion who has the dragon binder horn and then we have Aegon who may or may not be able to claim one of those dragons for himself. There is also the possibility that Euron dies or Aegon dies and someone else will take their places as dragonriders via Targaryen blood or use of that horn. So besides Dany we have Aegon, Jon, Euron, and Tyrion who may all ride dragons within the story as they all have the proper set-up and foreshadowing for it to be a possibility. So why is it the automatic assumption that it will be Dany burning shit down?

Not to mention, wildfire has the same types of language used as the two quotes above:

And then some vast beast had let out a roar, and green flames were all around them: wildfire, pyromancer's piss, the jade demon [...] From bank to bank there was nothing but burning ships and wildfire. The sight of it seemed to stop his heart for a moment, and he could still remember the sound of it, the crackle of flames, the hiss of steam, the shrieks of dying men, and the beat of that terrible heat against his face as the current swept him down toward hell. - Davos I ASOS

So considering there not only is there a ton of foreshadowing that it will be Cersei who destroys King’s Landing with wildfire, but also there is foreshadowing that Jon Connington will do something incredibly drastic to win and keep the Iron Throne for Aegon. And may I remind the audience that the fires Arya went through and experienced in the Riverlands had zero to do with Dany. They were the direct result of the Lannisters.

So if Arya IV ACOK is foreshadowing a future fire she is stuck in, there is no evidence that the fire will be caused by Dany nor that the fire is dragonfire. And if you are going to point out the show as evidence, let me tell you something, go to the youtuber The Dragon Demands and watch his videos dissecting everything about the scene of Dany burning King’s Landing by using the script, listening to BtS content, looking at the storyboards, actually noting that a scene of Cersei looking out the window, depicting her watching people put barrels of wildfire on the battlements, etc. Because the compilation he makes proves that Dany burning KL the way that she did in 8x05 was a last minute change. It was supposed to be an accidental wildfire explosion before they changed it so they could justify Jon killing her. But I’m sure even with the evidence you’ll still cling to the idea of Dark!Dany because you are incredibly insecure about your fictitious ship and your blatant mischaracterization of your favorite “pure as the driven snow /s” character, because there is literally nothing in the books that foreshadows Dany going “mad” or “dark”. So why don’t you take your jealousies about Daenerys and Arya and the very possible Daenarya friendship somewhere else.

#arya stark #daenerys targaryen #asoiaf

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shoutaaizawas · 4 years

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↳ touya todoroki x reader → ❝safe in your arms❞

summary: your bleeding shivering and scared you stumble to the last place you thought you’d go for safety inspired by @one-lonely-whumperfly post word count: 1.9k+ tags/warnings: injury mention, blood mention, mention of being drugged, angst, fluff, light enemies to lovers a/n: ive been super unmotivated to write but this was a lot of fun so shoutout to this prompt. also it’s super cold here. hope everyone is doing well.

Dabi was enjoying a quiet night at his apartment. It wasn’t a nice place and it wasn’t in a nice neighborhood but it was the place he called home. Being around the league could be too much at times so it was nice to get away and have time alone.

He was laying across his dingy couch with a plastic cup of cheap whiskey in hand as he watched whatever was on TV when he heard banging at his door.

Dabi let out a huff as he stood up, if Toga was here to bother him again he was going to have to move and hide his new address. Opening up his front door ready to scold Toga the words disappeared from his mouth at the sight in front of him.

There you stood, slouched against the wall. Blood smeared across your face, a foggy look in your eyes, and fear and exhaustion rolling off you in waves.

There was a lot to wonder in such a small amount of time. What happened? Why did you come here? How did you even know where he lived? Granted he didn’t have time to consider these things as you were currently falling to the ground.

Dabi reached out to grab you, his arms wrapping around your waist just in time. He pulled you up letting you rest your weight on him so that you could stand.

“I didn’t take you as the type to show up at my place and fall for me.” He teased. Was it the right time for a joke, no, but he was a villain he wasn’t supposed to care about those things. Not to mention the anxious wave rolling through him was unbearable and cracking a poorly timed joke was an easy way to cope. The smirk on your bloodied lips reassured the worry of offending you that he pretended wasn’t there. Despite your acceptance of his joke, your reply was serious.

“Didn’t know where else to go.” You rasped out. There was a rawness to your answer. There was none of that hero bravado. Just fear. It stirred something in him that he had been trying to pretend wasn’t there for a long time. It was easy to brush off when you were standing tall throwing his snarky banter back at him with the same level of wit he had thrown it at you with. There was something terrifying in your vulnerability that he couldn’t exactly place. Or at least he pretended like he couldn’t place it.

“Not sure if this would even be my first choice.” He said as he readjusted getting a better grasp on you. It was tempting to pick you up and carry you over the threshold of his apartment like a princess but he resisted. With your arm over his shoulder, he helped you to his uncomfortable couch, placing you down on it. Turning on the light he tried to get a better look at you.

Squinting from the brightness of the light only made things look worse. The blood on your face was still fresh, dripping down onto your clothes. Casual clothes. He wasn’t sure if he had ever seen you in anything other than your hero costume.

He took your chin between his fingers with a softness he didn’t even know he was capable of anymore, even more, surprising was how you didn’t flinch away from his touch. He wasn’t sure if that was some form of trust from you or just a sign of how out of it you were. There had to be some explainable reason you were here and not at a hero’s house or the hospital.

Looking at the cuts on your face he felt an anger rise in him that he didn’t expect. He wasn’t an innocent man, he had done this to people, he had probably done this to you at some point. Why was this upsetting him?

“Stay here, let me grab some stuff.” He said before going to the bathroom and grabbing his first aid kit from underneath the sink along with some wash clothes covered in warm water. Returning he knelt on the ground in front of you. Your eyes were closed and you were swaying back and forth even seated on the couch. He didn’t know anything about what happened but he had a bad feeling that someone had slipped you something.

“Tell me what happened.” A part of him was dying to know but he also knew you would need something to distract you from the pain of your wounds being cleaned up. Your eyes opened up and you stared at him blankly for a moment.

“Um, I- It-” You took a moment to get started. “I was at a bar. I was supposed to meet my friend. It was supposed to be a girl’s night, I got all ready, I even put on my favorite shirt.” You said looking down sadly at the black blouse you were wearing that was now covered in blood. Dabi carefully wiped away the blood on your face with the warm cloth looking for the wounds. “They couldn’t make it, hero emergency. I thought I’d at least stay for another drink since I was already there and dressed up.”

“Typical heroes, always running off.” Dabi scoffed.

“There was this guy, I didn’t think anything of it. I- I just wanted to finish my drink and go home but he started talking to me.” You said closing your eyes for a moment like you were trying to remember it all. “I thought he was maybe a fan. He wouldn’t stop talking to me, he got me a drink. I didn’t really want it but I didn’t want to be rude.”

“I would think a hero like you would be more careful.” Dabi scolded as finished cleaning up the cuts on your face. The thought of some guy bothering you made him sick which was unexpected. He moved on to cleaning the wounds on your face.

“I- I didn’t think he was dangerous.” You said in a small voice. Dabi paused, his hand resting on your chin tilting your gaze to his. For a moment he was pulled into your eyes, the warmth there even under the fear that still lingered. “I got up to leave, I was outside but my head was spinning. I didn’t drink that much, I knew something was wrong but I could barely stand up. Someone grabbed me, there was no one around, they pulled me into the alleyway there and I couldn’t do anything. My quirk wouldn’t work right, I couldn’t do anything to protect myself.”

The thought of you defenseless was far more upsetting than he could fathom. You hesitated to say what happened next, not that you really needed to, it was clear on the wounds that he was cleaning what they had done.

“Do you know who it was?” He asked trying to keep his voice even. The anger rising in him was hard to control, not that he was used to controlling himself.

“A local crime boss, or at least his guys.” You said. “I’ve been trying to stop him. He’s been using people, using their fear to get money and control from them. I’m going to stop him but he tried to stop me first I guess.”

Dabi made a note, it wouldn’t be hard for him to find him. Especially if he framed it as a business proposition from the league. That could wait, right now he just wanted to help you. How odd that was for him.

“Can’t let your guard down when you mess with underhanded criminals like that.” He said.

“What about criminals like you?” You asked. Your tone was teasing but he could hear the edge of honest interest in your voice.

“I’m a lot more straightforward. No fun beating your heroic rival when they’re already roughed up.” He said as he placed a bandage on your cheek. You had a few scratches on your face light bruises were already forming on your skin. “Let me get you some pain killers.”

Dabi returned with a glass of water and some pills before he went back to his room to find clothes you could wear. He grabbed a black shirt and some shorts.

“You can stay the night here.” He said. “Change into something more comfortable.”

You looked down at the clothes for a moment, possibly reconsidering the situation that you had put yourself in. To his surprise, you took the clothes and shakily stood up. He pointed you in the direction of his bathroom.

Dabi went into his room trying to tidy it up. Making the bed, grabbing the trash off the nightstand. He couldn’t recall the last time he had cleaned up for someone. He never cared what people thought of him or his place and it wasn’t like he had very many guests.

He turned at the sight of you in the doorway. You looked good in his shirt. You looked better in general, you had cleaned off the blood and grime that had been leftover and you looked a little more coherent now. He was still waiting for you to realize you were crazy for being here but you were still here.

You moved to lay down on the bed, pulling the thin covers over yourself.

“I’m cold.” You said.

“I don’t have any more blankets.” He replied. It wasn’t like he even needed blankets, he never got cold.

Before he could do or say anything else you grabbed him by the wrist and pulled him into bed. For a moment he laid there in shock as you scooted closer to him.

The silence wasn’t awkward or tense but he found himself wondering if he should say something to break it. Social anxiety wasn’t something that Dabi faced often, you seemed to be putting him through a lot of unfamiliar moments tonight.

“Why did you come here?” He asked finally. The question had been on his mind all night. The pause of silence made him wonder if you had fallen asleep.

“I was scared and felt alone, I could barely think straight I knew I needed to go to someone but for some reason, your face was the only one in my mind.”

Dabi glanced over to you, you were looking up at him with a soft look in your eyes that made his heart flutter. Having you here tonight made him realize that his fascination with you was past that of a villain has for their rival. His interest in you was resembling a crush more than anything else at this point.

The fact that in a vulnerable state you thought to go to him, no you weren’t even thinking it was an instinct that brought you here.

“You’re safe here.” He said quietly, his arm wrapping around your shoulders and pulling you in. Your head rested against his chest and the way you nuzzled against him made his cheeks warm. Your eyes closed and your breathing evened and he knew you had fallen asleep.

One night had changed so much for him. He wasn’t sure if you would wake up tomorrow and regret coming here or if just maybe you felt similar to him. The thought was scary but for now, there was nothing he could do except enjoy the weight of you in his arms and think about how good it would feel to incinerate the person who had hurt you.

taglist: @sugarmaplewings-fics @lilkiwisfinest @ewwis-but-more-otaku @kandy1410 @moonlightaangel @winnies-headcannons @bkghatesyou @paintedr0ses1 @toobsessedsstuff @spellboundxizi @ourladyofseijoh @x0doodlebug0x @katsushimaa @mooncademia @moon-write @todominica @why-so-red @kvichisaki @curiouslilbeast @izukukozume @maat-the-prescriptive

#dabi x reader #dabi #touya todoroki x reader #touya todoroki #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bnha #mha

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justanothersecretfangirl · 3 years

Text

Can't Outrun the Past (Part 8)

A/N: Okay, I am sorry this has taken so long. My hand and my brain weren't cooperating, and this isn't the most exciting chapter, and it's a bit shorter, but ish is about to hit the fan. Just give it a minute. thanks for reading 🥲

Pairing: ex!Bucky x reader

Warnings: mentions of drug use, alcohol abuse, etc. Sexual assault (if this is something you can't read, skip the italics, please. Take care of you first)

Word Count: 1582

After a near food fight at dinner time (both those super soldiers had it coming), and a night of nightmares, you wake up to the sun glaring in the window and Bruce clicking at his computer near your bed. You stretch, then sit up.

“I didn’t mean to wake you,” Bruce says.

“You didn’t. The sun did,” you say with a chuckle, gesturing toward the light glaring in.

“I can close the blinds?”

“Nah, I’m awake now.” He nods, then goes back to clacking on his computer. “How’s everything look, doc?”

“Very stable, Y/N. You are incredibly lucky.” He looks at you with seriousness in his eyes. “If we didn’t have Narcan, I don’t think we’d be having this conversation, Y/N. I don’t want to underemphasize how close you were to dying.” You nod, looking down at your hands. “Your meetings with Dr. Raynor will continue to be important as we move forward with your recovery.” You nod again, and Bruce goes back to typing on his keyboard. After a few minutes, he squats down next to your bed. “Are you ready?”

“Yeah,” you say, though you weren’t entirely convinced. Somewhere, still, in the back of your mind, you knew you’d run as soon as the Vivitrol wore off. But you didn’t say anything. Bruce nods, and starts unhooking the machine, shutting off the heart monitor and removing the pads from your chest.

It only takes a few minutes before you’re completely unhooked, your IV is out and you are sitting on the edge of your bed.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y.? Please let Captain Rogers know that Y/N is ready to leave the med bay.”

“Yes, Dr. Banner.” He walks around the bed and helps you stand up, steadying you as your legs are weak and you almost fall. It feels good to be upright, though. You smile at him as Steve and Bucky walk into the med bay. Their eyes are on you, leaning into Bruce’s arm for support.

“You sure you’re strong enough?” Steve asks as he gets to your side. You just nod.

“Oh, I brought these,” Bucky says, moving to your side. He has a pair of sweatpants and a sweatshirt, different from the last time. He hands them to you with a smile. “I figured you might like to get out of that very attractive gown.” You chuckle and stick your tongue out at him.

You change quickly, all the men turning around to give you privacy, much easier without all the cords and wires. Then, at last, with Bucky on one side and Steve on the other, you walk out of the med bay, hopefully for the last time.

They help you walk toward the elevator, then to the main living quarters. You walk with them to the couch in the living room before sitting down, shaky. Your walk exhausted you and you lean against the back and close your eyes.

“You okay?” Bucky says, squatting down in front of you.

“Yeah. Just a little tired,” you say with a smile, not opening your eyes.

“Okay. You rest. We’ll be here when you wake up.” He stands and leans across you to place a kiss on your forehead. Before he stands back up, he whispers, “I love seeing you in my clothes.” Butterflies flutter in your stomach and you try your best to not respond. He stands up and walks away. You sigh, trying to sink further into the couch.

Sometime later, you’re not sure how long or if you even slept, you wake up to the couch next to you shifting. You open your eyes to see Sam Wilson on the opposite end of the couch.

“Good to see you up and at ‘em,” he says with a smile. You smile back. “I know we haven’t really talked much. I’ve been busy with contracts.”

“I know. It’s fine. I haven’t been much fun anyways.” You try to laugh, but it sounds more forced than you like. Sam doesn’t laugh though. He leans back against the back of the couch.

“I knew Freaky Magoo would be there for you, anyways.” You snort at his comment.

“Freaky Magoo?” you ask, humor lacing into your voice.

“He does have a staring problem. You can’t deny it.”

“You’ve got a point, though.”

“Hey!” You laugh at the deep voice behind you. You shift to peek over the couch to see Bucky leaning against the island in the kitchen. He chuckles, then goes back to filling his water bottle. You glance back over at Sam.

“What are we doing tonight, boys?” You melt into the back of the couch and close your eyes.

“Looks like you’re going to bed, Y/N,” Sam says with a chuckle.

“Nah, I’m a real party animal.” As the words leave your mouth, you wish you could bring them back, but you shake your head. “That wasn’t funny.”

“It was a little funny, in a twisted kind of way,” Sam says, and you chuckle.

“I’m nothing if not a little twisted,” you all but whisper.

“Aren’t we all?” Bucky says, flopping onto the couch between you and Sam, instantly lightening the mood. You would thank him if he didn’t keep talking. “I say we watch a movie. We used to have movie nights all the time.” The boys talked about what movie to watch, and, at some point in the conversation, Steve came in, flopping on the other couch in the main room. You barely noticed him coming in, your eyes still closed.

“Okay,” you say, your eyes still closed. “It’s been a long time since I watched a movie.” As it turns out, it would be even longer, because, as the opening scene was playing on the huge TV, you fell asleep, your head slipping onto Bucky’s shoulder.

“Hey,” you vaguely hear, someone shaking your shoulder slightly. You groan, not wanting to move. “Y/N. Let’s get you in bed.” It’s Bucky, you realize but you push his hands away, making him chuckle. “Come on Sleeping Beauty.” He stands up, and you all but flop onto the couch as he moves. “You leave me no choice,” Bucky says, laughter in his voice. You feel his large hands under your torso and legs, and he lifts you up easily. You wrap your arms around his neck instinctively, and nuzzle into the crook of his shoulder. He hums softly, and his swaying footsteps lull you back to sleep.

Lights. Bright lights blind you. Bodies sway and bump into you and you can’t make yourself care. Sweat drips from your forehead, hair, down your back. You grind up against someone behind you.

“Let’s get out of here, baby,” a deep voice whispers in your ear.

“What do I get out of it?” you yell above the pulsing bass filling the room. A chuckle rumbles through the man’s chest, vibrating against your back still smashed up against his front.

“What about this?” he says, holding a white pill in front of your face. You spin to face him. You vaguely think you should ask what it is, but you don’t care, honestly. You stick your tongue out and the man places the white pill on your tongue. You swallow it easily. He grabs your hand and pulls you along with him, out the door, and onto the back of his motorcycle. You hold onto his torso as he weaves in and out of traffic, toward the skeevy apartment complex you both call home, his 3rd floor apartment only 2 floors below your own. It takes a few minutes, but soon, calm and quiet washes over you. The world around you melts away.

After he pulls up to the apartment complex and parks his bike, you all but fall off the side of it, your already short dress hiking up, and you giggle.

“Come on, baby,” the man says, wrapping his arm around you. “Want to have some fun?” He doesn’t even wait for your answer, all but dragging you up the stairs toward his apartment. By the time you get there, your legs are feeling like jello and you can’t make yourself care about anything.

“Here,” he says, running his finger up your thigh. You bristle at the touch, but he takes that to mean anticipation. You try to push him away, but he doesn’t budge. He places a small patch on the inside of your thigh, almost to your panties.

Almost immediately, your eyes roll back in your head and the only way to describe what you feel is euphoria. Everything in the room slips away into blackness and you welcome it.

Some time later, you aren’t even sure how long, you wake up, your dress pushed up and your underwear no where to be found. The man, Marco, your dealer, lays on the ground beside you, his own pants missing. You try to move, but pain shoots through your abdomen, and you realize all at once what happened. You realize you had been raped and you weren’t even conscious enough to remember it.

“Y/N!” Bucky screams, shaking you awake. Your screams still ring through the room though you don’t realize that you are still screaming. Tears fall down your cheeks and every inch of your body is shaking. “Hey, hey, hey,” he says, pulling you into his arms, and you try to push him away, but he doesn’t move. “I got you. You’re safe now.” You scream at him and his grip falters."Let me go, please! Please!" He does as you ask and you all but fall off the bed and run into the bathroom, closing the door behind you."Y/N!" Bucky yells after you, but you press your back against the door and slide down it, sobs wracking through your body. "Y/N, open the door please?" Bucky's voice is sad at first, but he repeats himself over and over, each time sounding more and more frustrated. "Damn it, Y/N. Open the door." He slams his hand on the door, and you scream in response. After a few minutes, you hear him sigh through the door. "Please, Y/N," he all but pleads. You curl into your knees, your back still against the door. You feel the door shift and, for a moment, you think Bucky is coming through anyways. He could, easily, break the door, but it doesn't move again, and you realize he is probably leaning against the other side. You hear sobs through the door, and yours start again.

Taglist: @obsssedwithjustaboutanything @austynparksandpizza @wtfrae @soccer-100000 @studio-apartment @ginger-swag-rapunzel

#bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky #Bucky barnes #Bucky Barnes fic #bucky fic #Bucky Barnes x reader #bucky x reader #ex!bucky barnes #bucky barnes angst #bucky angst

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sohotthateveryonedied · 4 years

Text

You Gotta Fend for Yourself

Read here on AO3!

Summary:

Bruce is Tim's emergency contact. He gets a call to meet Tim at the ER.

“I’m looking for a patient.” The woman behind the ER desk looks bored as she eyes Bruce, takes in the pressed suit and diamond cufflinks. The way he fidgets, drumming his fingers on the desk and trying very hard not to look as anxious as he feels. It’s easier to reign in his worry when he’s wearing the cowl. “Name?” “Tim Drake.” “Give me a minute.” She types his name into the computer, and Bruce can’t help but wonder how she manages to type with such long fingernails. “Your son is in bed eight. It’s over there, against the far wall.” She points him in the general direction. Bruce considers correcting her on the fact that Tim is certainly not his son, but he doesn’t need to tell this complete stranger that. Let her think what she wants. He thanks her and goes where directed. His chest loosens when he finds Tim sitting on a medical cot, neither bleeding out from a gaping wound nor missing any limbs. Instead he’s playing some sort of racing game on his phone, indifferent to the bustling emergency room around him. An oxygen mask sits beside him, forgotten. He and Bruce should really have a conversation about the importance of listening to medical professionals. “Hey, kiddo.”

Tim looks up and his eyes go wide. “Bruce. You...actually came?” His voice is hoarse, like he’s been gargling sand. “Of course I did. I am your emergency contact, after all.” Tim blushes. “I told them not to call you. You really don’t need to be here if you’re busy, I can get a cab home. And I’m sure I can talk the doctors into letting me check myself out without an adult, so—” “It’s okay, Tim. Really. You actually saved me from a board meeting.” Tim doesn’t look at all reassured. Bruce sits on the side of the cot beside Tim, who moves over a few inches. “Your teacher told me you went into anaphylactic shock in the middle of geometry.” Tim rolls his eyes. “I got a candy bar from the vending machine and the wrapper forgot to mention there were walnuts in it. It’s not that big a deal.” “Oh, sure, not that big a deal. You just stopped breathing for two minutes. Totally normal.” “I’m breathing now, aren’t I?” Tim takes an exaggerated breath. “See? I’m fine. And, for the record, it was the teacher’s fault. I had my hand raised for a whole minute trying to tell her that I couldn’t breathe, and she didn’t even look at me. Eventually I just passed out.” Bruce blinks. “You raised your hand? While your life was in danger?” “I didn’t want to be rude.” Lord, beer me patience. “I’ll get you an EpiPen to carry with you from now on.” “I usually have one, but I used it up a couple months ago and kept forgetting to ask my dad for another one.” A shrug. “Don’t you keep one in your utility belt?” “That’s for civilians.” Bruce’s eyebrows crease. “It’s for keeping people safe, not just civilians. You’re a person, so I want you to use whatever you need to keep yourself from dying in the middle of class. Got it?” Tim nods, a little sheepishly. “Yes, sir.” “Good. Now, how are you feeling?” Tim flicks the IV tube. “Cortisone and a shot of epinephrine earlier. I’ll be fine.” Even so, Bruce can’t stop himself from checking Tim over anyway, just to be sure. He needs to see that Tim is okay with his own eyes. He feels Tim’s throat for any residual swelling, checks his pulse. “Can you breathe okay?” “Yep.” “What about your mouth, does it feel numb or tingly? Any swelling?” “No and no.” “Are you dizzy at all, nauseous?” “You do realize we’re in a hospital, right? Surrounded by actual doctors?” “Yes, and I don’t trust a single one of them unless their name is Leslie Thompkins, Alfred Pennyworth, or Bruce Wayne.” “You’re insane.” “Good. Maybe then you’ll stay alive long enough to see the new year.” Bruce takes out his cell phone and drafts the beginning of an email in his notes app. “I should call the school and give them hell for not looking after you. Or at least for not being more aware of their vending machine snacks.” He knew Tim never should have been allowed in a public school. That’s like locking the most perfect, innocent kitten in the world in a cage with rabid coyotes. Completely irresponsible. “You’re overreacting, B.” “You could have died.” Tim scoffs. “Stop being so dramatic. This isn’t even the worst allergic reaction I’ve had. My parents were terrible at remembering to tell the nannies about my walnut energy, so there were a lot of close calls.” Bruce should be more surprised at that information. After he sues the school for the wrongful almost-death of a student, he should sue Drake Industries just for the hell of it. “Where are your parents? Are they on their way?” Jack Drake is as disagreeable a man as disagreeable men get, but he’s always revving for conflict. Bruce will definitely be able to sway him to his side of this matter. They can bring it up to the board of education, draw up new regulations for the school’s allergy protocols. Tim scratches absently at the rash on his neck. Bruce swats his hand away. “Dad brought Dana on a business trip to Philadelphia. It was only supposed to last the weekend, but they decided to stay a few extra days.” “A few?” “Eleven, to be exact.” Yikes. Big yikes. “You at least called them, right? They’ll want to know you’re safe.” “I called Dad when I first got here, but he didn’t pick up so I left him a message. I’m pretty sure he got it, because Dana keeps texting me to make sure I’m okay and asking if they should come home early. Dad still hasn’t said anything, but I’m sure he’s worried too.” Even as Tim says the words, it’s clear he doesn’t believe them. Never mind, fuck Jack Drake. Bruce can find another parent to start an alliance with—one who actually cares about their kid. Maybe Crystal Brown is free tonight… Bruce flags down a passing nurse. “Can I get some discharge papers for my son, here?” Might as well throw that in, give himself some extra authority. Whatever gets them out of here quicker. “Thank god,” Tim says. He plucks out the IV and swings his legs off the bed. “I’m sick of this place. You can just drop me off at home and I’ll be all set?” “Drop you off? You’re coming home with me, Tim.” Was that part not clear? “It’s cool, really. I’ll be fine after some rest. You don’t have to look after me.” “I know I don’t have to. I want to.” Bruce thanks the nurse who brings over the discharge papers in record time. People really don’t appreciate nurses enough; he should donate a few million to boost their salaries. He pushes the clipboard into Tim’s hands. “Here, fill these out and we can get going. I’ll call ahead and have Alfred make supper.” “And then I can go home?” Bruce shrugs, eyes fixed on his phone screen as his thumbs fly. “You already have a room made up at the manor, so I don’t see why you can’t stay over tonight. Besides, I’d like to keep an eye on you, just in case.” Anaphylaxis can be a tricky thing. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re a mother hen?” “Once or twice.” “Well, they’re right.” Bruce snorts. He works more on his email draft to the school, making a mental note to censor out the swear words during revision. He’s getting flashbacks to years ago when Jason had a close call with some shrimp at a party for a museum opening. Bruce nearly decimated the catering company for not putting out warnings for potential allergens. “Tim?” “Hm?” “How come I’m your emergency contact?” Tim freezes. He doesn’t look at Bruce and twiddles the pen, quiet for a moment. “I don’t know. I guess I didn’t know who else to put? I figured it would never actually be needed, so it wasn’t like you’d ever find out about it anyway. But don’t worry, I’ll change it tomorrow so you don’t need to do this again.” “No,” Bruce says, a little too quickly. “Keep it. It’s...more logical for it to be me. And I really don’t mind.” “You sure? You don’t have to.” “I want to. Partners look out for each other, right?” Tim’s cheeks are flushed under the allergy-induced redness, but he nods. “Right.”

#whumptober 2020 #no.29 #emergency room #batfamily #batfam #tim drake #red robin #robin #idiot duckboy #bruce wayne #batman #batdad #dc comics #fanfiction #fanfic

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waiting4inspiration · 4 years

Text

To be Evil IV: Loyalty

Summary: Thanos now has two more Infinity Stone, but refuses to send you on missions to get the other stones. His reluctance is probably a good thing. Especially when you learn what you really are.

Warnings: I don’t know if this makes sense anymore but oh well, angst, strong language, Infinity War (rewritten), I feel like I’m just rambling at this point

Word Count: 1,991

To be Evil Masterlist II Marvel Masterlist

You traveled across the universe with your new team in search of the other Infinity Stones, and yet, you have done nothing but wait for orders from Thanos. He had gone to Knowhere to find the Reality Stone, brought back one of his ‘daughters’ who you’ve heard be called Gamora, and then took her to Vomir to retrieve the Soul Stone. He came back from that mission alone and deep down, you knew why.

With two Stones left, both of them on Earth, the ship makes its way back to your home planet.

Each time a stone is placed in the gauntlet, it’s as if a part of you fixes in place and your powers buzz inside you. Your dreams change, but you can never remember what they are when you wake. All you know is that it is about the Stones. The Time Stone and the Mind Stone are all that remain and you’re eager to get out of this spaceship and retrieve the Stones.

Though, there has been some advantage of having nothing to do while Thanos hunts for the Stones. You’ve had time to focus on your powers, work on them without having to focus on control. In that time, you’ve learned to do things you’ve never done before, things that will allow you to fight more than one person all while standing in one place. And it’s no longer using curses. Not really.

Now, with Earth in sight, you wait for your orders from Thanos, so sure that he will give you an important task, especially after you have proven yourself by retrieving the Tesseract and the Space Stone. But he left you out of obtaining either the Time Stone or the Mind Stone. Those tasks were given to Ebony Maw, Cull Obsidian, Corvus Glaive, and Proxima Midnight,

“There is a reason you are leaving me out of retrieving the Stones, isn’t there?” you question Thanos after the meeting, walking up to him as the others walk away to prepare themselves.

Thanos doesn’t look at you. All he does is carry on to stare out the window at the nearing planet and it slightly irritates you. “You have done enough-”

“I want to do more,” you cut him off, stopping just behind him as you clench your hands into fists. “I’m sick of sitting around, doing nothing. Let me go after the Mind Stone.”

“No,” Thanos quickly objects, turning around to face you as you shift on your feet at the firm tone in his voice. Almost as if he’s hesitant about you going after the Mind Stone. You could read his mind to find out why, but you won’t because you know he’s too powerful with four stones in his possession for it to go unnoticed. It wouldn’t be a good idea. “I have not given you a mission so that your loyalty can be tested,” he explains, but you don’t believe it.

You shake your head, glance over his shoulder at Earth and fold your arms over your chest. “You think I’m going to go back to that team after everything they’ve done to me?” you question, chuckling as you look at him with a sarcastic smile on your face. “Do not treat me as they did,” you warn, your eyes taking on the yellow glow that you’ve grown used to. And with your powers becoming stronger, the glow is almost permanent.

Thanos knows your connection to one of the Infinity Stones. He knows the source of your powers comes from the Mind Stone, and he knows he doesn’t want to be in your way when you use your growing powers.

He sighs, steps towards you and nods his head. “Go after the Time Stone. But do not engage an attack unless needed,” he orders.

And though it is a mission, you scoff and roll your eyes. It’s a babysitting job. Make sure Ebony Maw and Cull Obsidian do their jobs and not interfere. “Very well,” you mutter, thinking at least it’s a reason to get off the spaceship and get some fresh air.

Joining the two of your companions on the Q-ship, you make your way to what you know is New York. Maw gives a basic plan of attack, but you know that you aren’t to do anything unless something should go wrong. And with Maw and Obsidian working together, the chances of things going wrong are very slim.

You end up sitting on the roof of a building, looking down and watching everything from a distance. Seeing the Time Lord, Doctor Strange, alongside Tony and Bruce, you perk up in interest and take a step slightly closer. You can feel the presence of the Time Stone and you have a deep desire to be united with it.

Watching the fight beneath you, how Cull Obsidian was blasted away with ease by Tony, Bruce going with in Hulk form to fight the colossal member of the Black Order and Ebony Maw is defeated and sent away from the scene through a portal created by Strange, you smile at the realization that your time has come. Thons said not to interfere unless needed. Well, now it is needed.

Using your powers to alleviate yourself off the roof of the building and to land gently on the ground in front of Strange. It would be best if Tony remains out of this so you can take the Time Stone. You know Strange will put up a fight, so you’ll need all the strength you can muster up.

“I’m sure you know what I want,” you say, stepping forward as your eyes glance down to the Eye of Agamotto hanging around Strange’s chest that holds the Time Stone. “And if I must, I will fight you for it,” you add, holding your hands out and lifting pieces of rubble from the previous fight, a new trick you had learned.

“You must be (Y/n),” Strange speaks, and you expect him to prepare himself for a fight, but he doesn’t. Still, you keep the rubble floating behind you just in case. “Tony has spoken about you, about your powers.”

You scoff, roll your eyes at him and take a step forward. “About how dangerous I am? Well, I’ve learned so much now that I don’t have him telling me to hold back,” you mention, smiling proudly at yourself as you take another step forward. “I’d be happy to show you,” you chuckle before sending everything you have levitating behind you towards him.

Strange uses his magic against your move, making the rubble turn to dust and fall at his feet. “I don’t want to fight you, Guardian,” he says, making you freeze and frown at him in confusion. He sees this, tilts his head and steps closer as you slowly lower your hands to your sides, their glow dying down. “I know you come from the Mind Stone. You know that too. But it seems you do not know what your purpose is,” he mentions, walking closer to you as you stare at him. “You don’t know whose side you’re supposed to be on-”

“I know whose side I’m on,” you snap, throwing a large piece of debris at him with a wave of your hand. He counters your attack, destroys the block you sent to him into pieces as you glare at him “And it sure as hell isn’t yours,” you sneer, stepping forward again as you conjure up a barrier around him, as you did with Wanda.

And yet, Strange doesn’t fight back. He gives in to your hold on him, and it’s probably the thing preventing you from knocking him out and taking the Time Stone from him. “You haven’t been collecting the Stone for Thanos. Deep down, you’ve been collecting them for yourself because you were chosen and created by them to protect them from those that would use them for good or bad,” Strange mentions, making your face fall and freeze in your tracks.

That’s exactly what that feeling is. You couldn’t explain it, until you heard someone else say it. Lowering your hands and breaking the barrier around him. Still, you shake your head at him as he walks towards you. “I have seen because this has shown me,” he explains, moving his hands to open the charm protecting the Stone.

The Time Stone floats towards you like it’s drawn to you. And you reach out for it, glancing up to Strange to make sure it’s alright. He nods his head.

As you close your hand around the green stone, it’s like you’re taken back to the time just before you burst into life from the Mind Stone. You remember the threat the Stone felt as HYDRA started their experiments, you remember getting an order to protect it and to protect the other Stones if things come to that.

Glancing down to your hand as you open it, you stare at the Stone and suddenly know what you have to do.

After your curse triggered Bucky’s Winter Soldier programming, he went to Wakanda to make sure that the work Shuri did on his mind wasn’t reversed. He went with Steve, Wanda, and Vision because knowing now that Thanos is looking for the Infinity Stones and the Mind Stone hasn’t been taken yet, they have a plan to destroy the Stone without killing Vision to stop Thanos from getting what he wants. It was Loki’s plan.

Thankfully, Bucky’s mind is all good. There’s no chance anyone can trigger him with those special words. But all he can think about is why you did what you did. He thought he knew you well enough not to do something like that to him. And though he knows you didn’t mean to do it, that your curse was meant for Steve, it still hurt him.

“We all know that Thanos is gonna come for the Mind Stone and he’s probably gonna have (Y/n) at his side,” Steve says, looking between each member of the team, including T’Challa and Vision and they plan for an attack from Thanos. “She’s more powerful now and will probably be the one to take the Mind Stone-”

“If that happens, she’ll be unstoppable,” Bucky cuts him off, making everyone look at him. Bucky takes a deep breath, runs his tongue over his lips and drops his gaze to his hands. “The Mind Stone is the source of her powers. She’s basically the Stone in human form,” he explains, closing his eyes as he recalls the memory.

He was there when you showed up, assigned to protect one of the scientists. He remembers the flash, your figure appearing out of nowhere before you raised your hands to destroy the room. The only ones that got out were you, Bucky, and his assigned scientist. Then you disappeared, and Bucky found out years later when he met you again that you were found by Tony after that, but you forgot everything that happened.

“If she gets in touch with the Mind Stone, the chances that she could tap into the power of the other Stone,” Vision mentions, making Bucky nod his head when he looks at him. “Then there’s no knowing what she’ll do. Whether she’ll fight Thanos or fight with him.”

“What you’re saying is that she could side with us, but if she doesn’t, we’re screwed,” Natasha says, simplifying it and making Vision nod in confirmation. “What would make her side with us?” she asks, still look at Vision because he’ll be the one to know with the Mind Stone in his head.

Vision glances at Wanda for a second before he looks over to Bucky. The Winter Soldier knows what that looks means. The only way they can get you to side with them would either be some major sucking up, or if someone really close to you appeals to you.

Someone who knows how to calm you down.

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wienerbarnes · 4 years

Text

On My Mind

Pairing: Bucky x Reader (Cheek to Cheek)

Word Count: 1,490

Warnings: fluffy first date vibes, mentions about pregnancy and infertility, overall not angsty tho

A/N: sorry for the long wait yall! ive been super slumped with class and other organizations im apart of and work and yea :) thank yall for understanding<3

MAIN MASTERLIST | CHEEK TO CHEEK MASTERLIST

A metal finger pokes your side as you re rack the weights you’ve used during your workout in the gym. You look at Bucky through the window in front of you as he’s seemingly finished his own workout as well. The two of you don’t work out together, his routine that’s fit, for, well, a super soldier, is much too much for you, but you still arrive together and leave together.

“I have a surprise for you.” Bucky says, as he begins to walk backwards, encouraging you to walk with him.

“What’s that?” You ask as you approach the doors of the gym, exiting out into the hallway.

“I’m taking you out tonight.”

You giggle. Because the thought sounds hilarious. Until you realize he’s not laughing with you. “What are you talking about, Bucky?” You ask, smile dropping into a serious frown.

“It’s been over a year and a half since you’ve been here; over a year and a half since you’ve died. I think it’s time.” He tells you.

“Bucky, I don’t know. Don’t people follow you around? Take pictures? I can’t have my picture taken.” You tell him. The only person you really let take your picture is Bucky. You haven’t seen all of them, but you know he’s got hundreds of random pictures of your face in his camera roll. Some of them include him, some of them don’t, some are of you asleep, some are of you cooking, some are of you naked. Besides the point.

“Trust me. I’ve got the perfect spot. Dress cute for me tonight, yeah? You always do.”

…

It takes what feels like hours for you to decide what to wear. What does cute mean? Fancy? Casual? Business casual? Should you wear colors? Bucky wouldn’t take you somewhere where you can’t wear colors.

You decide on a dark green midi dress, small yellow and burgundy flowers covering the dress in a pattern. The thin straps sit on your shoulders and your tattooed leg slips through the slit on the side as you slip on a pair of brown platforms. Atop you slip on what’s probably the only black piece of clothing you own besides what’s been given to you here at the tower; a black denim jacket, one that Bucky got for you because you gave him that bright orange top that one time and it was time you have something of his style.

You almost regret shaving your head realizing as you look in the mirror just how much attention is now brought to yourself. As if dating Bucky Barnes wasn’t enough.

Sooner than you’d hoped, there’s a knock on your door and Bucky’s arrived, a casual dark button down shirt tucked into black slacks, leather shoes on his feet and he looks delicious. A mix of the young man from the 40’s and the modern soldier of today. The brooding, intimidating man wearing slightly high waisted slacks that are only missing a pair of suspenders. Goth and gentlemanly all the same.

You don’t miss the large bouquet of flowers in his hands, flowers of every shape and color and you gasp in surprise. “Did you think I wouldn’t bring my date flowers on our first date? You look beautiful. As always. Are you just about ready?” He tells you confidently, suaveness dripping from his voice as he looks at you lovingly. He can tell you’re nervous by the way your clammy hands take the flowers and you frantically look for a vase to put them in. But he’s not nervous. He actually doesn’t think he’s been this excited to take a girl out, ever. Maybe it’s been a while, but he thinks it has more to do with the fact that it’s you he’s going out with.

The drive to the small restaurant isn’t long, and on the way Bucky explains to you the small Italian place he grew to love as a teenager, the restaurant now run by the grandchildren of the original owners.

Upon entering the restaurant, smells of garlic and basil flood your nostrils and look around to see the place… empty. There’s only one other small family in the corner of the room, a younger couple with a child that couldn’t be older than five or six.

A teenage waitress leads the two of you to a table far enough away from the other family for some privacy and you have to ask Bucky if this place is actually as good as he says it is.

He laughs, “The place is just more popular for takeout, is all. Trust me, baby.” You can’t argue after being called the sweet pet name as you take your eyes off your boyfriend to skim down the menu.

Soon enough orders are placed and the two of you enjoy a comfortable silence, munching on the bread that was brought to the table. A loud, joyful giggle draws your eyes to the other family in the room, parents looking lovingly at their child as they seemingly recount some story of their day.

Multiple thoughts run through your head watching the little girl, her smooth skin, thick hair put up in tiny pigtails, her body covered in a pair of pink overalls and a glittery top underneath. Something your kid would be dressed in. Your kid.

Bucky’s words interrupt your thoughts but not your stare, “Do you ever think about it?”

“Think about what?” You reply, watching the girl rip at the bread in her small hands, sticking pieces of the soft middle bit in her mouth as she continues talking.

“Having a kid.”

You pause before answering truthfully, “Never. Until right now.”

“Never? At all?”

You finally pull away your stare before you’re caught, “Well, no one really thinks about kids when they're a teenager. And even then, I was poor growing up, so all I saw when thinking about a baby is how much I couldn’t afford one. And then when I joined the Marines, I figured… I’d die. Die with some honor for some stupid cause and that’d be it. And then in Hydra, well, I really thought I’d die there. And then when I got out… I suppose I never thought that I actually do have the chance now. I mean I have the safety of the tower, I have a full fridge at all times, access to medical care…” You trail off.

“I shouldn’t get ahead of myself; I’m not even sure I can have kids what with all that Hydra did to me - all the shit they pumped into me.” You pick at a piece of bread in the basket in front of you, not noticing the color drain from Bucky’s face.

You brought up a fear in him he never thought about. Can he have kids? Did the serum affect him in that aspect? If he did get someone pregnant, would the baby survive? With some kind of serum in them from him? He remembers hearing about so many other soldiers being given the serum and dying, not being able to handle the chemical changes. If grown men and healthy soldiers died from it, how could a baby survive?

“Do you?” You break his thoughts.

“Do I, what?” He asks, trying to mask the sudden fear from showing on his face.

“Think about it?”

“Constantly. I have since I was a kid.” He tells you, and your mouth drops in amused shock.

“A kid?!” He’s glad you seem to be past the thought of not being able to have kids because your carefree smile and amusement at the thought of ten year old Bucky taking care of his younger sister and wanting a kid of his own is enough to calm him down.

“I took care of my sister all the time. I think I liked her more than she liked me, I was always trying to drag her to hang out with me, teach her stuff, and she always just wanted to play with her dolls.” He laughs, thinking of all the time his little sister would grow annoyed at all the time he wanted to spend with her.

The smile on your face is bright as you watch him recount his childhood memory, but he sees the slight sadness in your eyes; he knows you were an only child. The food arrives and interrupts him before he can say anything about it, Thank you’s echoing from the couple as two plates of lasagna are placed in front of them.

A few minutes of silence goes by as the two of you begin eating away at the full plate of pasta and meat sauce. “For the record, I think you’d make the most fantastic mother.” Bucky tells you, and you pause the fork in the air and look up at him, not expecting him to tell you that.

“Thanks.” You tell him simply, appreciating the comment more than you think he’ll ever know.

#bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #marvel #bucky barnes oneshot #awwwwww #babes

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whats-rambled-rambled · 4 years

Text

TA, dr and other abbreviations

Neil x Reader

summary: some time ago, Neil was a TA at your uni, now you meet up again when he needs your help with his next mission

+ song: Chase Atlantic - Friends

warnings: language, alcohol mention, things get steamy so let’s say 18+

author’s note: that request was fun! 👀 I’ve enjoyed the dynamic between those two, so I decided to try something different in terms of the writing style.

This is also the first one-shot not related to Stuck in Reverse series, can you believe?

Let me know what you think!

___

Your eyes dart towards your lab’s door, your brows raise at the sight of a familiar face. Your day just got a whole lot better.

“Good afternoon, I’m looking for doctor-...” a man at the door glances at you and he skips a beat, clearly trying to remember where does he know you from.

You don’t feel like helping him to figure it out though. To be fair, you’ve changed quite a lot over those last 10 years. You smile to yourself as you think about your younger self, always so anxious and flustered in Neil’s presence. If only she could see you now. She would appreciate the glow-up, that’s for sure.

God, you used to have the biggest crush on him. Not that he knew about it, of course. He was 8 years older than you, also he was a TA during your uni time. You talked sometimes, but that was all, you knew he was seeing someone back then; you settled down for daydreaming about his blue eyes and dying a bit inside whenever you saw him.

And now he’s here, still as hot and gorgeous as ever.

You put on your most polite expression, fighting the smug grin from appearing on your face.

“While I kinda enjoy seeing your puzzled face, I’m also quite busy, so I'm gonna give you a tip – your little TA gig a few years ago.”

Neil’s gaze flares up as he looks you up and down, still a bit confused, trying to match the image he remembers to your present look.

He blinks twice, composes himself, and proceeds with his request for your aid.

When he leans over your desk and shows you the mission’s brief on his tablet, you notice that he wears the same cologne as he used to all those years ago. Your heart flutters in your chest, but definitely not in that old, nervous way. You chew on your bottom lip, trying to stay focused on Neil’s words. You must admit, the sudden change in dynamic is thrilling. As you help him go through some of the details regarding his next assignment, you wonder if you’re gonna see him more frequently from now on.

You certainly wouldn’t mind.

This time, the Universe smiles upon you.

Neil pops into your lab more and more often.

At first, it’s all related to work.

After some time, you begin to wonder if he doesn’t look for just any excuse to come over. You don’t care though, you really enjoy his company.

And it seems like Neil’s grown quite fond of you himself.

Now that he’s finally wrapped his mind around the new you, his blue eyes always light up in your presence. You don’t even realize the exact moment when his usual charming demeanor becomes straight up flirtatious.

But when you notice that change, oh my, the game is on.

Well, he still keeps it all professional, of course.

It’s the little things. That slight change of posture. The accidental brush of his fingers on your hand when he passes you things. Or that light touch on your shoulder when you both lean over the desk and go through some papers needed for his missions.

The intense stare right into your eyes, with a corner of his lips twitched in a half-smile.

But you can give as good as you get.

The way you tilt your head and expose your neck when he’s standing close. Taking that little extra step in his direction when you talk, stopping at the verge of his personal space as you watch him hold his breath for a second. A bit of playful teasing, sometimes involving light tugs at his tie.

And that last thing always ends up with Neil almost forgetting the tongue in his mouth. Almost.

...Sometimes you ask yourself if you’re not having too much fun when he’s around. You’re at work, after all.

It’s one of those evenings. You should’ve gone home a long time ago, instead, you’re hanging out with Neil, talking about everything and nothing in particular.

Your phone beeps. You read a short message and you muse over it for a moment. You know that your companion is gonna leave soon, late-night mission or whatever; the suggestion to blow off steam you’ve received sounds like just what you need.

You meet Neil’s curious look and you realize you’ve let a sly grin appear on your face.

You shrug.

“A booty call,” you say in the most casual tone.

A hint of satisfaction flashes in your eyes when you watch Neil’s very conflicted expression. You bite your lip to stifle a giggle. He’s adorable.

He crosses his arms, the corners of his mouth curl.

“Does that happen often?”

“Oh darling, a lady never kisses and tells. Why, do you want in on the list?” you tease, narrowing your eyes.

His eyebrow quirks. “There is a list, huh?”

“Is that a yes?” you grin, mimicking his raised brow.

He walks up to your desk and slowly reaches past you for his jacket, hung on the back of your seat.

And as his face gets right next to your ear-...

“Maybe.”

When he pulls back and you see his blue eyes, how dark they are, it takes all your self-control to keep a straight face. But the question escapes your mouth anyway.

“See you later this week?”

You mentally kick yourself for this moment of weakness.

“Hm,” he gives you a peculiar smile on his way out.

Well, that wasn't exactly a yes.

At the door, he shoots you a quick look over his shoulder.

“Have fun.”

...does he seem a little pissed-off to you?

And you have fun that night, all right.

Even though all you can think about are those blue eyes and dirty blonde hair.

Then, Neil doesn’t show up for the next couple of days.

For a moment, you get tempted to check on him at the HQ, but you scoff at yourself. He’s a big boy, he can handle himself.

When he finally walks into your lab, something feels different.

You can’t put your finger on it.

In the beginning, he’s just so official and it irks you. But you look into his eyes and… it almost seems like he’s taunting you. And it makes your heart increase its pace.

Oh, you see how it is.

On top of it all, he’s so annoying today.

He sits on the chair, loosening his tie, his legs spread, his gaze locked on you.

After yet another snarky comment, you grit your teeth, trying to focus on the documents in front of you.

“Neil, if you interrupt me one more time, so help me god.”

And he does. He does, leaning back on the chair with a smug smile.

So... now what?

You scoff and close in on him.

“Why are you like this?” you utter, reaching for his tie.

The innocent look in his eyes.

“Like what?”

You give his tie a tug.

“Rude.”

And then that bastard runs the tongue over his lower lip and smirks.

Next thing you know, you straddle him on the chair, burying your fingers in his hair as his mouth crushes on yours. Neil wraps his arms around you and pulls you closer. The urgency of the kiss takes your breath away. You rock your hips and you brush against the bulk in his trousers, and oh god, it feels so good. Your head arches back. Neil’s breath and his lips on your neck drive you wild. You need him, right here, right now. You cling on to him for your dear life as you move your hips again and a sharp moan escapes his mouth.

The abrupt knock on your door makes you both jump at your feet, trying to level your breaths.

“Mate, I’ve been looking for you everywhere! Why the fuck are you not answering your phone, eh?”

As Ives enters the room, his eyes dart between the two of you, a wicked grin plastered on his face.

“Ah shit, I hope I am not interrupting?”

You roll your eyes as Neil simply glares at him.

The moment is gone, and so are they, leaving for yet another emergency operation.

A few days later, your friends take you out for drinks, and you definitely have one too many.

…Or a few too many.

You end up standing at Neil’s apartment door, pressing the doorbell excessively long.

He opens up, looking you up and down with an amused smile.

You poke him in the chest.

“Consider yourself booty-called.”

You giggle as you watch his eyes widen.

Neil clenches his jaw and takes a step back.

“Jesus... Come in?”

He takes your coat and you make your way inside.

You are way past caring about small talks and whatnot. You pull on his shirt, trying to guide him towards that rather comfy looking couch.

One more step.

You want to kiss him, but Neil puts a finger on your mouth and shakes his head.

“What? I thought you wanted in on the list?” you ask as you sit down on the couch, your brows furrowed.

“Not like this.”

Wow, now your pride is hurt a little.

“Fine, I’m going home then,” you pout and try to get up quickly.

You underestimate the amount of alcohol in your system though, so you yelp and fall back.

“You’re not going anywhere in this state,” he scoffs.

Why is he the way that he is?

“I’ll get you some coffee, make yourself comfortable.”

And so you do. You toss your shoes away and rest your head on one of the pillows.

You close your eyes just for a second.

You open them up again when Neil covers you with a blanket.

To be honest, you’re way too tired and cozy to argue.

When you notice the soft look in his blue eyes, your heart melts in your chest.

And because all your filters are off at this point, you say, “I really like you, you know?”

He chuckles and places a small kiss on the tip of your nose.

“Tell me that when you’re sober.”

The next morning… well, let’s just say that you wish the sun was shining a bit more quietly.

Neil glances at you from the kitchen.

“Morning.”

You don’t know what hits you first – the pounding headache or the nauseating dread at the thought of what’s happened last night.

“Fuck me,” you groan, hiding your face in your palms.

And what do you hear in response?

“With pleasure. But how about we eat breakfast first?”

#neil tenet #neil x reader #neil tenet x reader #robert pattinson #neil tenet imagine #neil tenet fanfic #tenet #tenet fanfic

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spidermanifested · 4 years

Text

remember when i said in my post about how bido is unappreciated that id talk about why greed/bido is a good and important ship but thats a whole other post. well This is that post

the first and most important reason that greed/bido is a good ship is very simple and that reason is Bido Was In Love With Greed The Whole Time And Nobody Noticed?????? how come nobody noticed. i mean SOME people noticed but nowhere NEAR enough people noticed

when greed compliments bido for successfully proving that alphonse is just a soul bound to a suit of armor, he blushes and acts very flustered and happy. unfortunately this scene is not animated in either show (bido talking to greed is changed to be over the phone in 03, and in brotherhood the scene just gets skipped, HOWEVER theres a single shot of bidos face in one of greeds flashbacks that shows him blushing and looking directly at the camera. ie at greed)

also in the manga his first thought when the military shut down the nest was to worry about whether greed SPECIFICALLY was okay (i used this page in my other post as well but its important)

and in brotherhood he was shown to have actually followed greed through the sewers during his fight with bradley but could only watch from his hiding place as greed was defeated and taken away; remembering this is what gives him the determination to hitch a ride to central to look for him

did i mention he went all the way to central to find him!!! clinging to a MILITARY TRUCK no less. as a very obvious chimera if he had been found by any of those soldiers it would have been horrible for him and every other time we ever saw bido faced with danger he ran away from it. but he was brave For Greed. he went into the labyrinth under central For Greed, and didnt try to escape until he was convinced greed wasnt there. and when it turned out he WAS there (and had lost his memory and had been trying to kill him) he immediately dropped his guard and walked closer to him because that was greed and he trusted him despite everything that had just happened. in the manga he grabs onto greeds coat as he dies and it is just about the saddest thing ive ever seen in my whole life

and then of course greed starts physically shaking because what he just did was so awful his body knows he fucked up before his mind even remembers Why it was fucked up and he cradles bidos body in his arms and screams. unfortunately if we are to acknowledge bido as the gay icon he was, we also must acknowledge that he was buried

(by all rights bido SHOULD have survived. where is the fanfiction where he survives fullmetal alchemist fandom or are you too busy writing the same royai-gets-married-and-has-babies fic over and over again. actually never mind i greatly prefer that to all the pedophilia. but thats another Other post, that unlike this incredibly niche topic some other people have almost definitely made before me)

the thing about grido is you could make a huge tragic thing about it being unrequited and frankly thats Fair, greed does not seem one to settle down in a relationship and bido likely has a lot of self worth issues that would prevent him from confessing his feelings. but you cannot deny that greed cared about him. he praises him, he pats him on the head (!!)

he COMPLETELY breaks down after he realizes he killed him. bido was so important to greed, as were the rest of the chimeras of course but i think theres a valid argument to be made that bido in particular was special to him. theyve got a few things in common actually that i find interesting:

both like to just chill on roofs??? when greed is in lings body he sometimes just hangs out on top of a roof. bido does this too

they could have hung out on roofs together.......maybe thats why greed likes to be up there. because he hung out with bido on roofs a lot. please consider this possibility

both of them are accidentally rude to children. the same children in fact

greed is like 200 and looks 30 while bido is middle-aged and people think he is a baby for some reason?????

okay this is just straight up a headcanon and has no actual basis in the text or subtext of fma but I Think Bido Is Trans and was cast out by his family in his youth and greed would understand that experience!!!! having left his own terrible family because they wanted him to be someone he wasnt

and then there are the differences:

greed is very outgoing and bido is mostly pretty anxious, though he has outbursts of confidence; that might be because greed being nice to him has built up his self-esteem (the way he calls himself cool/awesome when he escapes from the elrics, directly followed by greed complimenting his skills, really makes me think this is the case)

one is tall and lean........the other...is short and fat....... i know its cliche but let me have this

bido overthinks things. greed is a jock. with their powers combined they can do things at a mostly reasonable pace (as long as bido doesnt just go along with whatever greed wants which is probably most of the time what happens)

bido is outwardly inhuman and weird-looking but is incredibly caring and hard-working and loyal and sweet. greed is the sexiest motherfucker alive but hes literally the personification of a deadly sin and at his core he is technically just a rock made of pain. but below these layers both of them want the exact same thing which is to care about others and be cared for in return

also you know that post about how ships between immortal people and super young adults (or worse, teenagers) are OUT and instead we should have stories about immortal people dating 40-something accountants. bido is the 40-something accountant. except not an accountant. you know what im getting at though hes an Established Adult

and bido DESERVES it, he deserves to be loved by the person he cares about more than anything, he has been through so much and gotten nothing but pain and he needs something good for a change!!! and greed DESERVES someone who will love him with all his heart and make him feel wanted no matter what. just, listen to me okay, they would make each other so happy

so!!! there are MANY reasons this ship is interesting and a million different ways you could go about exploring it and there is just NONE of it out there. for some reason the chimera that gets shipped the most with greed is dolcetto (though ive seen martel as well) and i think that is probably because they are more attractive to people (and also id wager more than a few dollars people simply see a dogman and his boss and go wild for the petplay angle). like you dont see any greed/roa either and thats very telling since roa appears with the other two almost every time and nothing about him is different except hes older and not as. pretty i guess???? in my humble onion hes hotter than either dolcetto or martel but thats neither here nor there

the important thing about bidos relationship to greed is that he might not have been transmuted with an animal with a strong sense of loyalty, but he didnt NEED to be, to be loyal to greed. he loved him entirely because he was human. and in the end he did the most for him out of any of the chimeras. unfortunately it was via dying but through the power of imagination we can collectively ignore that and pretend both he and greed survived, and greed went back to his original sexy, sexy body, and they made out on a roof for several consecutive hours. thats how im coping at least. thank you so much for listening to my unhinged rambling about lizard man who dies of fullmetal alchemist (gay edition)

#fullmetal alchemist (fullmetal alchemist)#bido #fma greed #grido

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digitalstowaway · 4 years

Text

Wright! Don't jinx this case any worse than it already is! It's bad for my heart...

Edgeworth didn’t remember ever going to bed. He had a fairly strict ritual he usually followed every night while in the middle of trials. Trudging through the front door, changing out of his suit and folding it on his dresser, plugging in his phone, brushing his teeth with his eyes half-closed, and finally falling into bed for a nice six hours of sleep.

He was quite confused when he woke up and felt a mattress and pillow under him and blankets tucking him in without any memory of getting there.

But then he felt a familiar tight ache in his chest and a familiar beeping, and he realized that no, he hadn’t put himself to bed the night before. He had, however, chased a suspect with Wright in the dead of night until he collapsed. He had crashed hard onto his right side. The blossoming pain in his shoulder had done nothing to distract him from the pulsing, squeezing pressure in his chest.

He opened his eyes. The room spun just a little. Not like the sky had hours before. On his right was an IV drip and a clamp on his finger attached to a machine, letting the world know that his heart rate was higher than it should have been. On his left was Phoenix Wright glaring at him.

Glaring at him and holding a bag of grapes in his lap.

“Why do you have grapes?” Edgeworth asked. Talking, he found, left him a bit breathless.

“I had Maya bring them for you,” Wright said. “I hoped you might choke on the seeds.”

He threw them on the bed, on top of the sterile-blue blanket. Edgeworth looked at the packaging. There was a painting of a sunny vineyard that stretched for miles and above it, in bold font—

“Those are seedless.”

“Shut up.”

“Why,” Edgeworth coughed and tried disguising it as him clearing his throat, “are you angry?”

“Because I was just told that you have heart arrhythmia and that you’ve had it for years. And for some reason, despite us being friends, you never thought to tell me until I thought you were dying last night!”

“It’s not a big deal.”

“It’s not a big deal? You literally almost had a heart attack. I almost had a heart attack.”

“And we’re both fine.”

Wright crossed his arms over his chest. He pointed his glare to a white board across the room which declared Edgeworth as being a fall risk and having last been examined at 5:30 am. Nursing staff really made him feel old. A fall risk. It was just a heart condition. He was an otherwise healthy, young man.

Who just so happened to collapse every so often when said heart condition took its toll on him after long trials and stressful cases. Or high-speed runs outside abandoned warehouses at night.

“I don’t think you’re fine, Edgeworth,” Wright said, still giving the white board a look it certainly didn’t deserve. “You look like shit right now.”

He didn’t exactly want to know what he looked like. He imagined it wouldn’t be surprising. It would be like every time he found himself waking up in a hospital or on the floor of his office or an evidence room. The same pale complexion. The same dark smudges under his eyes. He always looked like a corpse as Gumshoe said.

“I’m fine.”

Wright still didn’t look pleased, but at least his eyes had softened. He looked Edgeworth up and down. Probably in search of a tell or some evidence to prove that it was a lie. But he seemed to give up after only a few seconds. Obviously, Edgeworth wasn’t well. But it would be impossible (and pointless) to get him to admit to it.

“So what do you need to do?” he asked, and it almost sounded like, What do I need to make sure you do?

“What do you mean?”

“To, you know, manage it. Do you take medication or something?”

“I do, but it’s not very effective.” Edgeworth flexed his right hand. He hated the IV catheters. He knew that they would never rip or tear out of his arm, but they were still uncomfortable. With the tape used to keep them in place, he could never forget that the drip was there. “It’s not effective enough, I should say.”

“Not enough to keep you from keeling over at a crime scene.” Wright rubbed his eyes. “Is there anything else they can do?”

He looked tired. There was a faint shadow of stubble across his jaw. He was still in his suit, though the tie and collar was loose and his jacket was tossed over the chair he was slumped in. He must have been there the entire night. Probably begging nurses and doctors to let him stay past visiting hours.

No. Persuading them. Wright was a lawyer. He probably had a neat list of reasons why he should have been allowed to stay that the staff couldn’t argue with.

But Wright was also Wright. Those lists of reasons definitely came out in a begging tone.

“There’s an option for surgery,” Edgeworth said.

“Oh.”

Edgeworth threw the blankets off of him, disrupting the grapes. Wright jumped up to help him and then to grab his hand when he tried pulling his IV line himself.

“Let’s call someone to do that.”

So, Edgeworth waited as patiently as he could while the call button blinked. Wright ran his fingers through his hair. It didn’t have the usual sharpness to it, the gel or pomade or whatever he used worn out by then.

“What’s the surgery?”

“It would be to implant a defibrillator.”

“They can stick that in you?”

“They can. But it’s not exactly the most practical thing to have done. Not right now.”

Wright nodded, satisfied with the answer for the moment. Edgeworth wouldn’t tell him that practical timing wasn’t due to risks of the surgery or the severity of the condition but instead his own stubbornness. There wasn’t much time to carve out for recovery. It would mean weeks of light work. His own definition of light work—no long nights at his office, no on-scene investigations. It was too much to give up for the time being. He had told his doctors so for two years.

Edgeworth scanned the room. He saw his suit, folded somewhat neatly, on a chair against the wall. His jabot sat on top. Mud was caked on the frills. He remembered desperately trying to pull it off after falling to the ground.

Wright had finally untied it for him. His phone had been wedged between his shoulder and ear. His fingers were slick, Edgeworth could tell, as he fumbled at the knot.

The rest of his suit was probably covered in mud as well. Wright’s knees had a faint dusting on them. They looked as if they had been haphazardly scrubbed. Probably in the hospital’s bathroom.

“What time is it?” he asked.

Wright checked his watch. “Seven.”

“We still have three hours until court, then. Did you manage to save the evidence we found?”

“What?”

“We have trial at 10—”

“I know. But you’re not really planning on going, are you?”

“Of course.”

“You can’t!”

“Why not?”

“We just had this conversation. You almost had a heart attack.”

“And I’ve told you I’m fine. Besides, there’s no one else that can handle this case. You and I have already worked on it for two days now. No one else in the prosecutor’s office will be able to catch up on what we’ve been doing—not to mention, what we have been doing isn’t exactly looked graciously on by the office.”

Wright grabbed his jacket.

A nurse walked in. When she saw Edgeworth sitting up with his legs dangling over the edge of the bed, she frowned and put her hands on her hips. She was an older woman—used to difficult patients, then. Wright passed her on his way to the door.

“Wright—”

“I’m tired, Edgeworth. I’m going to try to sleep as much as I can before the trial.” The nurse began pushing Edgeworth back down into bed. “By the way, I did ask Maya and Gumshoe to grab the evidence. They’ll be happy to know you’re fine.”

The nurse pushed on Edgeworth’s shoulder. He leaned back against the pillows. His breathing came a little hard. His chest ached more than it did minutes ago.

Wright walked out.

After all, Edgeworth was fine.

#ace attorney #this is just kinda dumb and short and maybe i'll put it on ao3 in a couple of days #but it's inspired by an earlier post #it's very self indulgent #uhhh i'm gonna tag this as #bad for my heart au #i like making edgeworth suffer uwu #my fics #i promise i can write better than this i just wanted to do this tonight and not put a lot of effort into it

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yacoka · 4 years

Text

THE STOLEN LAUGHTERS OF A BUDDING FLOWER

──⊱ repost from my old account

character(s) — hanamaki takahiro

pairing — hanamaki takahiro x reader

genre — angst

warning(s) — terminal illness, mentions of blood, death

word count — 1700

beta(s) — @/doughnuts-5ever @/sugasugawarau

You had always been sad smiles and sorrowful eyes, a regretful gaze that shouldn’t belong to someone as young as you were. Your shoulders were always held back proudly, though when you thought no one was looking (he was, he always was.), they slumped ever so slightly, as though they were bearing the weight of the world.

(In hindsight, you were, in a sense, bearing the weight of the world. Your world.)

Takahiro made it his mission to change that. He was going to find out the source of the sadness you carried, and weed it out. You were a beautiful flower that he wanted to save, to cultivate, and watch it grow, watch it flourish into the best version of itself.

(Instead you had only decayed, the very ecosystem that had given you life, that was meant to help you thrive, was now sucking it back out of you, draining the colors that used to be so vibrant, leaving you a pale, shriveled mess.)

He made the first attempt of getting to know you when you appeared at the cafe he worked at.

“You’re in my english class, aren’t you? I remember seeing you at the back of the class.” He had expected you to continue the conversation there, too used to people falling into the easy charisma he exuded. But all you did was give him a tired smile, and nodded before ordering your coffee and tucking yourself into the corner of the cafe without a second glance.

This only fueled his desire to break past those walls you had set up, and he pushed even as you retreated back. The fifth time you had silently rejected his attempts at being friends, he had slipped past the counter, seating himself opposite you as he set down your drink.

You had only blinked at him, exhaustion dripping from every lazy shut of your eyes. Takahiro had grinned, and began talking, nevermind that you didn’t respond to any of his chatter. He would wear you down, just you wait.

There must have been something he was doing right, despite the fact that you never reached back out to his advances of friendships, you also didn't stop coming to the cafe, nor did you tell him to leave you alone. This prompted him to begin approaching you in class, then moving to the seat next to yours, and eventually walking you home.

The first time you spoke a word to him outside the mindless coffee orders and mundane hums was when you were both working on an english essay, and you had asked if he understood the question. His head shot up so fast that he got whiplash, and that was the first time he heard you laugh.

Your laugh was beautiful- no, beautiful didn’t even begin to cover how wonderful it was. Your laugh reminded him of sunflowers leaning towards the sun, the gentle crashing of waves on the shore, the way he felt winning a volleyball match. He would do anything to hear that again, even as he shot you a fake scowl for laughing at his pain.

And he did, he got to hear it over and over and over again, as he inched past the wall of thorns you had so carefully cultivated, snuck past all your defenses and jumped headfirst into the hole that led to your heart.

Now here he was, months after the first time he talked to you, heart racing as he led you through the park, fingers loosely intertwined with yours. He hoped you didn’t notice how sweaty his palms were, nor the tense replies he had been giving to you. The worried glances you shot him weren’t missed, but all the awkwardness and tension had been worth it when he revealed the surprise he had planned, your face falling into a state of shock at the fairy lights strung up along the trees, rose petals scattered across the ground. A large banner told you to turn around, and so you did, coming face to face with Takahiro, a shaky smile present on his face as he asked you to be his girlfriend.

(You should’ve said no then, should’ve gone home. But the selfish part of you blurted out a yes, and the way his face lit up almost made it worth it. Almost.)

Things should’ve only gotten better from there, and they did, but only for a brief period, before everything started going downhill, one event at a time. It started with you sneaking away to some place, without a word to him. The first few times he had dismissed it as you wanting some alone time, and he was more than willing to accommodate to your needs.

But it kept on happening more frequently, and the weariness in you only increased as your eyebags worsened. He tried to confront you, but was met with the same wall of silence he had come across in the beginning, and there didn’t seem to be a way around it.

You started closing back up again, retreating from him and leaving him cold as you grew quieter, your shoulders turning in upon themselves, your eyes perpetually downcast.

(He should’ve known then, should’ve seen the signs, but he was a fool in love, and love blinds us all.)

You retreated back into your old self, and Takahiro suddenly found himself locked outside those thorn walls once more, without a key or even a door to knock on. All he wanted to do was love you, so why wouldn’t you let him?

He hated the miserable look on your face, and the paleness that only seemed to worsen as the weather slipped into the colder seasons. Every cough that passed your lips sent a dagger into his heart, and he hoped that you’ve been taking the medicine he’s been slipping into your bag.

(You can’t, as much as you want to, you can’t.)

Takahiro doesn’t understand what he did wrong, what he had done to make you leave him like this, without a word, without a fight. Hell, he would have preferred screaming matches over the suffocating silence that sits between you two now.

It isn’t until you pass out in class that he finally understands. As he cradles your head upon his lap, trembling hands trying to staunch the blood that doesn’t seem to stop flowing from your nose, he finally realizes just why you had pushed him away. His suspicions are only confirmed when he arrives at the hospital with you, and the sinking in his stomach drags him to his knees, his head hurting and his heart aching.

At long last, he had found the reason for your sad smiles and sorrowful eyes, and it isn’t something that he can fix or make go away, Not when it was a terminal disease that ate away at your life, stealing time from a gentle soul who had experienced only a fraction of what life had to offer.

How could life be so cruel? You had done nothing but love and be kind, offering soft smiles and reassuring words to the undeserving world, even when all it had done was to throw you obstacle after obstacle, cruelty after cruelty. Takahiro couldn’t even begin to imagine a world without you, a world without your bright laughter, a life without your love.

When you awoke, drugged up on medicines flowing through the IV drip, he had begun crying once more, and through the tears, he could vaguely see your hand reaching out to his weakly. He grabbed it, and the coldness of it had him breaking even more.

“Why?” He choked out, clenching his burning eyes shut. “Why didn’t you just tell me?’

“How do I tell the person I’m in love with, the person that I want to marry, that I can’t marry him because I’m dying?” You whispered, your voice cracking.

“I-I don’t-” For once, Takahiro has nothing to say, and it is you who pushes through the dreaded conversation.

“I’m sorry for being selfish, I shouldn’t have said yes then. You should leave, go be with someone better. Someone who you can love with no regrets, someone who can grow old with you.” You squeeze his hand tightly, before loosening your grip, making to let go of him.

But he refuses to let go, clinging onto you desperately. It is with pure, earnest love that he says it, “I would take my year with you, over a lifetime with anybody else. If a few months is all we have left, then let me have them. Let me have every single second you have left, let me love you until then.”

(There is no way you could’ve said no, not when you knew he wasn’t going to give up. Not when your heart ached for him too. This was the last time, you promised yourself. The last selfish choice you will ever make.)

Takahiro did love you, he loved you so fiercely it was easy to pretend that the clock wasn’t ticking, that your time wasn’t running out. And he loved you all through the days you couldn’t even walk, when you were nothing more than a pale, sickly mess in a hospital bed, multiple machines hooked up to your frail body.

(“I’m sorry,” you whispered to his sleeping body on the makeshift cot the nurses had brought in. “I’m sorry we didn’t have more time.”)

You passed away that night, and Takahiro awoke to a pitying look from a nurse. He didn’t hear the words she spoke, his eyes trained upon your still body. You had been fine the previous night, still laughing at his stupid jokes, still smiling at him with that shine in your eyes. And now you were gone, never to smile at him ever again, or to hold his hand, or to throw your stationery at him whenever he said something ridiculous.

It is with shaking hands that he brings his phone up to his ear, a recording playing. Your laughter fills his ears once more, and he breaks, he shatters, he cries as he mourns you.

You were gone, and he would never get to experience your love again.

#hanamaki takahiro #hanamaki x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #makki x reader

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scatter-kinnin-patter · 3 years

Text

YOU WANT MORE COMABUR MEMORIES??? IVE GOT MORE COMABUR MEMS FOR YA!!!

A continuation of this post because I've been digging around and the memories are coming back more and more! Mostly pre-dsmp and S2, S3 is still mostly a blur to me b u t! Under the cut~

So I'll start with some pre-dsmp memories of mine. So as a refresher, my canon had Phil as my dad, Techno as my twin but older by a few minutes, and Tommy as our little brother. I don't remember our mom, though I know we always joked about Philza and the fridge XD I think Tommy was our half-brother, and had a different mom than Tech and I? Still a bit fuzzy on that.

I mentioned how my Tech was a piglin-human hybrid, while I was more "human with very few piglin traits". One thing I remember though was I actually had naturally pink hair that matched Techno's, but I dyed it brown and often wore my beanie to hide when my roots were coming in. I'll explain more why I did this later.

I remember pre-dsmp, I grew up in another smp. SMP's kinda... worked like varying realms one could teleport between? The teleportation was difficult though so there was rarely anyone who'd frequently swap between smps. But I grew up in Earth SMP's Antarctic Empire! Phil raised Techno and I, and later we had Tommy with us too! I remember it was always cold, but in our castle and fortress it was much warmer. Techno, being Techno, was extremely skilled in combat and strategy and Phil took him under his wing(hah!) as the technical heir to the throne and taught him everything he'd need to know about conquest. Me, I preferred teaching myself diplomacy, fighting wars with words rather than with blood. For a time this worked actually, Techno and I really balancing each other out, but soon things got... Eh.

Tommy brought it up to me first, I think he trusted me to open up to more than the others(sorry Tech and Phil but I'm the favorite xoxo /J) and basically opened up about how unhappy he was there. He wanted to explore the world, not be holed up in some frozen corner of the planet going and conquering a bunch of strangers just so we could follow Phil's and Tech's legacy. He felt suffocated in their shadows and... tbh I felt somewhat similar. So we made a plan, and one night we ran away without saying a word... Well, I left Techno a letter, but.

We ran to the portal, and somehow convinced Dream to give us access to the dsmp. I think he agreed because he knew that would knock Techno down a peg(my Dream and Tech were rivals for p obvious reasons). And we started over there. I dyed my hair, we got ourselves a new wardrobe, and we thought starting over in a small place without many people would be good! We lied about our past, though. We didn't want to be connected to the Antarctic Empire... both because we were trying to leave that part of us behind but also so no one would tell Tech and Phil where we were. This was our new start!

AND WHAT DOES TOMMY DO. START A FUCKING WAR WITH DREAM HIMSELF.

Tommy. Ily. But you're so stupid. /lh

So I've talked about how my mems from S1 and half of S2- up to Techno's execution- went, but I've remembered a bit more!

After Techno brought me back to his cabin, we talked for a long time about what happened. I told him I didn't remember anything leading up to my "death", and Techno filled in the gaps for me. I also didn't realize Phil was in the server because... Well I don't remember my confrontation with him. I also didn't remember my hypnosis, and since Dream is the only other one who knew, Tech didn't know and didn't relay that to me.

We agreed that for now, it'd be best if I stayed with him instead of back in L'manburg. And for a while I did!

One day though, Techno finds Tommy. ... Specifically the Tommy that was living under his house like a raccoon. Techno was furious and started chasing Tommy around, who was still hoaring his Gapples and whatnot, and when I finally walked outside to see what the hell was going on, I locked eyes with Tommy, and we both stopped.

He was white as a sheet, and looked about to cry, and luckily Techno stopped chasing him after seeing this. Again, Tubbo Quackity and Ranboo never told Tommy about me, he thought I was dead. I spoke up first with a "Tommy?" And he goes "Wil... You're alive?" To which I started tearing up- "Yeah... Yeah, I'm alive!" And we both just- broke at that, we ran to each other, I nearly crushed him in a hug and we were just sobbing. He thought I was gone, and I had gone so long without seeing my favorite lil bro that just... Aaaaaaa

After that Tommy explained his exile to Techno and I, and why he ran away and lived under Techno's house. I think Techno was softened up by seeing how happy Tommy and I were to be reunited, but also Tommy's his brother too, so he agreed to let Tommy stay too.

Now, Tommy was salty at L'manburg for exiling him, and Techno is anti-government. But- I think Techno was even more against L'manburg because of how hurt Tommy and I came out of it. So Techno and Tommy swore vengeance and decided to start doing crimes against L'manburg. I stayed out of it though- I was in good enough shape to take care of myself by this point, but I still way too injured to be in any sort of fighting shape.

And then one day... Techno came home without Tommy. Turns out Tommy sided with Tubbo in the end... and Techno was still determined to destroy L'manburg. Eventually they broke Philza out and- hoooooo that was an awkward reunion. Dream also came over from time to time to plan for their attack. I was. V uncomfortable around my Dream for reasons I couldn't explain(spoilers: it's the hypnotism that I forgot happened). I wanted nothing to do with their plan. I didn't want Tommy hurt, and I wasn't going to help them hurt him. I should've done more to stop them, but... Can't change the past.

After making a crater where L'manburg was, I confronted Phil. I called him out on doing something so awful... And he called me out for doing the same. He said to me, "Power corrupts, Wil. I've seen it with Schlatt, I've seen it with Tubbo, and most importantly I've seen it with you!" To which I retort, "You see it in everyone but yourself, Phil!" Because... ANTARCTIC EMPIRE ANYONE??? Turns out the Empire disbanded shortly before Tech and Phil came to the server, I don't remember how exactly that falling out occurred, but there was a reason why Tech and Phil were so strongly against any governments at this point.

After our fight, I left Tech and Phil. Tommy needed me. I built my own place not far from the crater, and frequently visited Tommy, Tubbo, and the others. Not Ranboo though, since Ranboo stayed with Phil and Techno. And Niki kinda wouldn't talk to me because she was... def also upset at thinking I was dead.

I was with everyone who confronted Dream when he had his finale with Tubbo and Tommy. He was NOT going to hurt my boys fuck no. Tommy took 2 of Dream's lives and you BET YOUR ASS I WAS CHEERING HIM ON(sorry Dream kinnies ily)

And then. Oh boy. Before Tommy could go for a third... Dream turned to me, and said something- I forget what, maybe it wasn't English, but it snapped something in me. I may have forgotten being hypnotized, but the effects were still there. Something came over me and I everything in my system was screaming at me to attack Tommy... so I did. I screamed, and lunged at him, but I was only able to tackle him and couldn't even get a hit in before Quackity and a few others were able to grab me and pull me off of him. I was thrashing to get free, but thank fuck they held me down.(Big Q ilysm /platonic)

It was then Dream revealed what he did to me way back in Pogtopia. He spoke something again, and I just felt that urge in me drop like a rock through my body, and I fainted then and there. When I came to, Big Q filled me in on what happened. Dream said he was the only one who knew how to undo what was done to me, and if he was killed, they'd run the risk of me doing that again. So they put Dream in the prison.

Now most of S3 is still blurry to me, but I remember breaking into the prison with Tommy. And that confrontation(which would've been Ghostbur if I was canon compliant but nope my canon is OFF THE RAILS). Tommy was with Sam, and I was stuck on the other side with Dream. Dream threatened that if he wasn't let go, he would "reset" me, whatever that meant. There was a lot of arguing and tbh I was terrified, but I knew I couldn't let Dream go. So I looked at Tommy and I told him "It's gonna be okay, Tommy."

And then everything went black. My memories after this are VERY blurry but- I think Dream somehow reverted my mind back to how it was during my Pogtopia corruption arc. And I had that itch in the back of my mind again. I'm the villain. Time to act like one.

... HECK THIS POST GOT REALLY LONG HUH... UHHHH ANYWAYS HOPE YOU LIKED IT IF YOU GOT THIS FAR IM JUST A V CANON DIVERGENT COMABUR >>

#💙wil💙#dream smp kin #dsmp kin #wilbur kin #alivebur kin #vilbur kin #I count as a Vilbur right?#anyways I love how this post became a Tommy Appreciation Post #long post #~memories~#wilbur soot kin

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black-streak · 5 years

Text

Waiting for the Worms - Comfortably Numb

Part 5

Warnings as always. This isn't terribly dark. Again, more informative, but a fun little lead up towards the future, so there's that. (Take note of the way Marinette describes her movements, it's not extremely important, but gives a little insight to her mind.)

(Closed list) People I've had on hold for a week: @northernbluetongue @thethirdwheelfriend @shizukiryuu @theatreandcomicfreak @michellemagic @karategirl119 @moonlightstar64 @my-name-is-michell @mystery-5-5 @zalladane @queen-of-the-trash-planet-tm @miraculousdisapointment @dorkus-minimus @jardimazul @allthebooksandcrannies @g-arya @worlds-tiniest-spook-pastry @persephonescat @mycupisbroken @luciferge @18-fandoms-unite-08 @dawnwave16 @alwaysreblogneverpost @kris-pines04 @mysteriouslyswimmingfan-blo-blog @weird-pale-blonde-person @you-will-never-know-how-i-think @kokotaru @naclychilli @slytherinhquinn @clumsy-owl-4178 @ladybug-182 @darkthunder1589 @evil-elf16 @dast218 @lysslovsanime @emilytopaz @naoryllis @iloontjeboontje @thepeacetea @danielslilangel @finallyaniguana @i-like-fairytail-and-stuff @vixen-uchiha @yuulxd @bleeding-heart-romantic @magic-inthe-stars @st0rmy-w1th1n

~---~

Sitting in a coma for a year was only mildly less terrible than sitting in a grave for however long.

On the one hand, Marinette was in a coma for a much longer period of time as far as she could tell. On the other, she was alive and could feel this body. Could hear the nurse read the newspaper to her, always announcing the date at the beginning of the visit. Sure, most of the news of this local area meant very little to her, but beggars can't be picky or whatever the saying was.

Still, nothing could possibly beat the feeling of waking up fully. As these eyes (Both! They both opened now!) took in the room, she decided to focus in on her nurse. Watching the little delicate movements and shifts and attempting to replicate them to ensure all her nerve endings still worked. That muscles, large and small, still responded to commands, nothing paralyzed or unresponsive. While every movement strained against itself, everything still worked to some extent. Weak, but there. It seemed laying mostly still for over a year and a however much longer had deteriorated the muscle mass. Not surprising, but annoying when she desperately wanted to work her body into a frenzy just to prove she could.

Laying there a little longer to take stock of healed over injuries, she came to the realization that this throat felt weird. She opened the mouth and attempted to ask the nurse, only for nothing to come out. Narrowing eyes, she reached out and gently tapped thin fingers on the nightstand next to the still reading nurse, drawing his attention to her.

Startled molten gold met her and suddenly he was up and taking the vitals, checking everything to be sure Marinette was truly awake and okay. He started speaking in a soothing, soft voice, though she could barely focus on the words enough to process them. Reaching out again, she stopped him midstep and then brought that same hand up to the throat to indicate the problem. She couldn't speak.

The man seemed to understand and nodded along, quickly paging a doctor and coming back to her, pressing a button to gently prop her up and slowly adjust a few machines before turning back and slowly asking a few basic yes or no questions.

Did she know who she was? Yes, she was Marinette, stuck in the once dead body of her soulmate. She shook to indicate she didn't. With the state of the grave, she doubted she would be welcomed back to the manor. Best not to let them know who Jason was and have them contacting Bruce.

Did she know where she was? A hospital. She gave a nod for that.

Did she know the date? Yes, the nurse had read the date every day for a little over a year now. That much was easy to agree to, despite the timeline confusing her.

Does she know what happened to her? Well yes, but she shook her head no. She couldn't very well explain dying by Joker's cruelty while in the wrong body as Robin and climbing out of a grave. That was like, three separate identity reveals to one stranger. It also made zero sense and she'd probably end up institutionalized.

With the knowledge that she understood him and wasn't brain dead, the man informed her of the various injuries she knew of, plus a few bonus ones that alluded her. Then, he mentioned her inability to speak.

While all of the breaks and bruising had healed up well, the damage to the vocal chords had been horrific and while they did their best, the damage was done. They couldn't even remove them without it potentially cutting off her airway or esophagus.

She was effectively mute.

Marinette finally woke up after a year in a coma and however long in that grave and she still couldn't scream to her heart's content. This was stupid.

All she could do was glare off into space, ignoring the doctor that came in to do a checkup.

…

After a week they took her off feeding tubes and IV only hydration and started reintroducing a liquid diet. Progress was slow and painful, but necessary.

After another two weeks they brought in soft solids like pudding and oatmeal. This is also when they first tried to help her stand up a little on her own and fine motor control was finally stable enough to write short phrases on a white bored. Rehabilitation was turning out to be an annoyingly long process.

After a month in this place, she finally left her room for the first time and abruptly realized they transferred her to a children's hospital at some point. It made sense. Jason was about fifteen when she died for him and small due to his time on the streets. Stunted growth, likely. They probably assumed she was about fourteen right now, despite the year technically making them sixteen. Even then, it would make the cutoff for a children's facility.

The bright colors across the walls and floors jarred her a bit after the nothing of so long, but was a welcome change. She tried not to glare at the little sick kids running about as she wheeled slowly along corridors, not quite able to walk on these stick thin legs.

Reports of a child John Doe had been filed, but no one really looked at those that hadn't lost their kid, so no one who would recognize Jason ever saw his report. She would be here a while. At least until she recovered enough to be considered okay for discharge. Then she would be put into the system as an orphan. She had no intention of staying long enough to see that through.

Jason and her had taken to the streets before and would thrive out there more than in any foster home they could find her. For now, she would settle back and allow the recovery process to take control.

…

Or so she thought. She'd only been awake for a little over a month, but she guessed the file must've been put through when she first came in to try and find his guardian. Someone, somewhere, recognized Jason Todd.

Whoever they were sold the information to Talia Al Ghul.

The woman came in the middle of the night and stole Marinette away. With this weak body and useless voice box, struggling didn't even seem like an option.

Where would it get her, anyways? Dropped off a rooftop and possibly stuck in a grave again? Talia could kill her again and she wouldn't stand a chance in defending herself. Marinette was not willing to take that chance, so she stayed complacent in her kidnapping.

Talia asked many questions of her, curious as to the state of her new play thing. She had to have known that Jason was supposed to be dead. Marinette didn't bother with paying the questions any attention. It's not like she could respond and she felt hesitant to reveal the inability. She worried over what Talia would do upon finding out the extent of the damage. Would keeping Jason be worth it to her?

Either way, she sensed the ever festing frustration in the older woman with every passing inquiry left unanswered. The look in her eyes spoke of a willingness to torture the information out of her.

Good luck with that.

At the same time, what could Marinette possibly lose at this point. She already died once and had no home to return to. The once ever present tug in her mind was long gone and hadn't returned with her resurrection. She already lost Jason and her old life. If she actually died again by Talia's hand, would it kill her as well by this point? The body was as good as hers what with the lost connection. Either she could either actually die in it now or she was immortal. When it came to it, with no connection or way to truly live on or track down her past life, she had nothing left to fear.

Eventually she came to a decision. Looking up at the woman before her, she lifted a hand to point to the throat and quickly made a slashing motion across it, which Talia immediately nodded in understanding at. She left for a moment only to drop into the seat across the way again and drop a notebook and pen between them. Marinette picked it up and slowly wrote out a phrase.

'Vocal Chords destroyed.'

Talia only nodded and gestured to continue.

'Long coma, deteriorated muscles. Not much function.'

"And coming back from the dead? How'd that happen?"

Marinette only shrugged. She truly didn't have an answer. Luckily that seemed sufficient an answer.

"Your brain is fully functional though. I can see how closely you're watching me. Waiting and observing. Not nearly as reckless as your past actions made you out to be. Perhaps dying has that affect though."

Marinette only watched silently as Talia mulled the thought over.

"And the damage otherwise?"

'Mostly healed over. Weakened though.'

The following conversation continued much the same. Talia asked questions and either answered them herself or waited for a short response in return. It didn't take long to get the full extent of the situation hashed out. Talia seemed to regard her with an excited gleam now and reassured her that that could all be fixed. Not to worry, the process only hurt a little. In the end, 'Jason' would feel all better.

Marinette wasn't sure exactly how to respond to this news. Yes, the promise of healing faster and possibly regaining her voice was a tempting offer, but in the end, she knew the woman wanted something from her. The price of health would be steep, of that she seemed sure. Again, she couldn't help but wonder what her alternatives were. This would happen whether or not she consented. Might as well make it feel like she had some control over the situation, if only for the comfort it lent her. She gave a jerky nod and watched the woman's smile grow.

Letting this head loll to the side, Marinette blanked out on everything else, falling into a restless sleep for the duration of their journey to wherever they were going.

…

Over the next few weeks, she woke up in random locations, being carted off into a hotel and up towards their rooms. She was never allowed to leave the room or do much more than eat and drink and use the restroom. It was similar to how she imagined prisoners lived, only in nicer conditions. Talia, while adjusted to live in any conditions, preferred to live luxuriously after all. And it wouldn't do to have a random, half dead kid following her around, raising questions all the time. Marinette couldn't truly blame her for that. She remained hidden.

…

At the end of their travels, she followed Talia out of the final hotel room and out into a cab. The cab dropped them off at a seemingly random location only for the two to walk out into the dessert. She wouldn't be surprised if that cab was only a front for the league. They walked for well over an hour, Marinette lucky to have healed enough to walk so long, even though it started to wear her down after the first thirty minutes, only determination to not be left behind moving her forward.

Talia must've stolen her without informing anyone else of her intentions. Otherwise, she's sure they would've taken a more direct and less discreet route. As it was, they reached a cave entrance and made their way down and down until eventually they begin to veer down different paths, Talia disabling traps as they went.

Eventually they reached an opening into a glowing green room, the glow emitting from a massive pool in the center. Something about the place set her on edge. The glow reminding her of Plagg's toxic green eyes and letting off what had to be a magical aura. Talia smiled down at her in a reassuring manner, putting a hand to the small of this body, nudging her forward.

Calculating the risk, it seemed her best bet to go along with the woman's plan. Talia would want her alive, so surely this wouldn't kill her. Plus, Talia seemed sincere in her promise of healing this body up and Marinette might as well be a walking lie detector at this point. The woman meant her every word. Taking a deep breath, she only hoped this magic would accept her as well as the miraculouses had.

Hovering a foot over the pool, she hesitated only a moment before remembering Kagami's advice from all those years ago. Hesitation had never helped her before and had no place here. Blinking, she nodded and let herself drop down into the pit.

#ml x dc #maribat #jasonette #WFTW #part 5 #mightve been sitting on this for a week on accident #my bad

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madbucker · 4 years

Text

Silhouettes | Daryl Dixon.

Eventual Daryl Dixon x female reader.

IV.

Season 1.

MASTERLIST.

Loosely based on the song We Will Become Silhouettes by The Postal Service.

Summary: Y/N follows Rick to Atlanta. They find a group willing to help them.

Warnings: language, gore stuff (twd style), mentions of death, mentions of domestic abuse. Will add more warnings depending on the chapter’s content. Let me know if you think it needs some other warning!

Word count: 3.6k.

Author’s note: First things first, I’m not a native English speaker, so bear with me! You can send me a message or an ask pointing out some mistakes so I can edit the post. Also, it will help me learn the language, so don’t hesitate! Had this in my drafts for a few days. I hope you like it! ♥

Gif’s not mine.

“Morgan…” You couldn’t find the right words to express how grateful you were. You looked at Morgan and Duane with conflict showing in your eyes: you were happy and hopeful that you were going to find your sister in Atlanta, but you couldn’t ignore the anguish, the heartbreak of leaving them. Every second counted, and waiting a few more days could lower your chances of finding her alive, but those two had saved your life. What if leaving them lowered their chances of making it to safety? Even if you weren’t suited for survival, having someone else around could make a difference.

“Go, this is your chance. We’ll meet again, soon.” Morgan took over as if he knew how much you were feeling at the moment, embracing you not only with his arms but with his words.

Yeah, we’ll meet again, you thought. Your mind softened for a couple of seconds when you felt another set of arms hugging you tight from your side. You had only known them for a couple of weeks, but that was a lot when the world was the way it was. Weeks felt like a lifetime for you, and so it did for the men that had taken you in.

Men, because Duane was far from being a boy. It was sad, he deserved to live the rest of his childhood like you did, or like his father did. He had to, forcefully, become brave, strong, and even cold sometimes.

“We’ll meet again in Atlanta, or somewhere else, I don’t know, but we will.” You said as they let go of you. All you could do after that was forcing yourself to smile reassuringly.

“Now go and help Rick find his family too.”

“You can't leave me here... Not like this. You can't, man. It's not human. Come on, don't do this!”

Merle’s voice was faint as you ran down the stairs with everyone else. Their names were blurry in your head, the adrenaline making you forget about everything but the fact that your life was hanging by a thread.

But Merle, oh, you would never forget his name.

He was the type of person you were afraid to run into, back when you were alone. You were glad Rick was there to put him in his place, even though that hadn’t shut him up.

Finding other survivors had its downside, you guessed, but not all of it was bad.

They told you that they had a camp, that they had people. The blonde woman’s younger sister was one of them, and they said they had children, too. Maybe it was too good to be true, but since Atlanta was overrun by walkers, then that was the best you had.

Walkers, that’s what they’d named them: because that’s all they did, they were the empty carcasses of what used to be a beautifully complex human being. They just walked, and bit, and killed.

You feared your sister was one of those, roaming around the city. That thought hadn’t left your mind since you first realized how bad things had gotten there. What if she had gone to Atlanta, seeking shelter, but found her death instead? You knew you had to get out of the situation you were in before you made any decisions. The camp didn’t seem like a bad idea, you could stay there temporarily and visit the city a few more times until you found her. Maybe even bring back supplies to thank everyone for letting you stay. That was if you made it, survival was still something new, something you had to train for.

Safety in numbers felt like your best shot.

You didn’t pay much attention to your surroundings until you got inside the loading dock, your eyes were fixed in what was in front of you. A walker could’ve gotten you from your sides and you wouldn’t have noticed until it was too late. You were lucky enough to get to safety.

So was T-Dog, who at last second caught up with you, right before you heard Rick banging on the door.

You sat next to the two women, hugging yourself with your trembling arms. You were agitated and couldn’t catch enough air to say what you knew everyone else wanted to say.

“Hey, T-Dog,” you moaned once you could stabilize your breath, “where’s Merle?” you almost barked the asshole’s name. He looked down to his knees.

“I dropped the damn key,” he growled, angry and ashamed.

“Well, shit.” You whispered, making sure nobody heard. Merle had it coming, that was clear, but T-Dog didn’t have to carry with the guilt of leaving a man to die just because he happened to be… the way he was.

“Best not to dwell on it. Merle got left behind. Nobody's gonna be sad he didn't come back... except, maybe, Daryl.” One of the men commented. You lifted your head and locked your eyes with his, your heart starting to beat faster once again. If for some reason Merle had someone who cared for him, then they had to love him. That was a difficult man, the one you had met back there… It must've taken a huge amount of patience and devotion to want him around for more than a few hours.

If he actually had someone who cared for him, you were completely fucked.

“Daryl?” you hesitated to ask, not sure if you wanted to hear the answer.

“His brother.”

The scenario was so beautiful it was truly unbelievable. You were stepping out of the dock when Rick’s drowned cry caught your attention. Looking forward, you saw a kid running to hug him, followed by a woman. You quickly figured out Rick had found his family, making your heart flutter. In the shithole you were in, you figured those things were a sight to be seen, something that didn’t happen every day, so you let yourself enjoy the view.

You knew Rick’s son was young, even younger than Duane, but seeing him there made you realize how fragile he was.

Innocent, scared, too little to live through those times. And for a second, you forgot that a few hours before you thought you had no purpose left. Not finding your sister, seeing how one of the biggest cities in the country had fallen… you had started to think that there was no use in trying so hard to survive when you had nobody left.

But there he was, Carl, and there were more kids in the camp. Maybe you could do more than just survive. Trying to help them live their lives with as little worry and concern as possible was better than giving up.

“Why on earth did you leave the apartment?!” A loud, high pitched scream echoed through the camp, and it didn’t take long for you to spot her, running to you.

Her. Mayra. Your sister.

When her body slammed into yours, you fell backward as you hugged her tight, trying not to let her go, as if she could slip away from your arms at any moment. You stayed on the ground trying to take in every detail you could. Her shaky breath, the way her hair felt on your skin, how her fingers were uncomfortably pressed between the ground and your shoulder blades. Her small cries as she tried to find the exact words to say.

“I was looking for you!”, at that point, you were sobbing, not even thinking about the people whose eyes wandered from Rick to you two.

“And I was about to go back home looking for you!” She cried, steadying her breath before standing back up. You followed her actions, your sight never leaving hers.

You weren’t sure how long it had been since it all started. Weeks, for sure. Months, too, although sometimes it felt like decades.

Suddenly, her eyes widened and she scanned her surroundings, fear creeping in her. She put both of her hands on your shoulders and lightly shook her head, still searching for something, you couldn’t guess what.

“Did he die?” She questioned firmly. You didn’t answer, had someone else gone to Atlanta that hadn’t made it? Someone who died before you found the group? She couldn’t be talking about…

The entire world fell on top of you. You had just discovered your sister was alive and had also just found out you left someone she cared about behind. “Did Merle fucking die?!”

The fire warmed your legs and the frog legs tasted so, so good. You hadn’t eaten anything freshly cooked in such a long time, it felt unreal. You were focused on your food and on Rick’s story, it was the first time you heard him talk in-depth about what had happened. He seemed happy, and the bags under his eyes were more subtle. His entire demeanor had changed.

“They found me…” your sister’s voice interrupted your trail of thoughts. You had a conversation pending; one that the both of you decided to ignore so you could enjoy the feeling of being back together, “... the Dixons, I mean. Merle didn’t want me around, Daryl didn’t either, but he was too kind to let it show. Thank God we found the group, like, a couple of days after I joined them.” Her eyes were lost in the flames as she spoke. She knew it hadn’t been your fault, there was no way you would leave him on purpose. “But I was about to die, Y/N. I felt the walker’s teeth on my skin, it tore the fabric on my shoulder. I just accepted it, didn’t fight back, didn’t try to escape.” She looked at you, and you realized that nothing meant shit anymore… life at that moment was constantly being on the verge of dying and knowing that the people you loved could die at any moment, too. Nothing could ever go back to what it used to be. “And, then, a freaking arrow went through the walker’s head. Clean, just like that, and it fell on top of me. I had never seen death in first person, you know. I had lost my friends after a dozen of those creeps came out of nowhere, but I didn’t see them die, I just heard the screams.”

She was your little sister, you hated to hear her that way, so hopeless and surrendering to death.

“You’re safe now, these people know how to fight-” you stared, but she stopped you before you could finish.

“I know. But one of the men who saved my ass isn’t safe. Yes, he’s not the kindest, nicest, or most selfless man, but I owe him.” You knew that feeling too well. You owed Morgan and Duane, you owed Rick, and Glenn, and so many people. None of them had behaved the way Merle did, but not only Mayra owed him, you did too.

Nodding, you sighed and looked at her in the eyes, reassuring her you would do something to get him back, anything you could.

“Hey, Ed, you want to rethink that log?” Shane’s loud demand made you jump slightly. Your sister nudged you on your side with her elbow and signaled you to look at Ed. She had been suspicious about him and you both had talked about it a few hours back

“It’s cold, man.”

“Then join us or put it out, we don’t want to be seen…” you spoke, managing to sound as nice as you could. You didn’t want to start anything, but you knew how dangerous it could get. You had to avoid loud sounds and bright lights. But Ed, as expected, ignored you.

“Yeah, the cold doesn’t change the rules, does it? Keep our fires low, just embers so we can't be seen from a distance, right?” Shane continued.

“I said it's cold. You should mind your own business for once.” Ed’s answer has was harsh, you could tell he would be hard to deal with, but not everything could be perfect in such a numerous and diverse group. Everyone had different stories to tell, some of them were more tragic than others.

Shane got up and walked steadfastly towards Ed and his family’s fire, “Hey, Ed... Are you sure you want to have this conversation, man?”

“Go on. Pull the damn thing out. Go on!” Ed bossed and his wife pulled the log out of the fire almost immediately, not questioning his husband’s command. It was sad and frustrating, but knowing that stepping in could cause the wife and the little girl to get hurt forced you to stay in your place. Shane seemed to be handling the situation. He was like some sort of leader in the camp, and he had been around those people for so much longer than you, he knew what to do. At least that’s what you told yourself in an attempt to find comfort.

You saw how Shane spoke to Ed’s wife and their daughter, but you couldn’t hear what he said as the group had started a conversation to fill in the silence.

“Have you given any thought to Daryl Dixon? He won't be happy to hear his brother was left behind.” The man -whose name you learned was Dale- questioned, deciding to talk about the elephant in the room.

“I'll tell him. I dropped the key. It's on me.” T-Dog’s shameful tone showed up once again.

“I cuffed him. That makes it mine.” Rick followed. It couldn’t turn into a competition of who was brave enough, who was the most selfless, or who was willing to sacrifice themselves.

“We were all there, it’s not a competition, any of us could’ve done something-” You intervened, hoping you could bring into the conversation the fact that you were planning on going back, but Glenn interrupted you:

“I don't mean to bring race into this, but it might sound better coming from a white guy.” You hated it, but if Daryl was as bigoted as his brother, then Glenn was right.

“I did what I did. Hell if I'm gonna hide from him.” T-Dog stated, completely convinced of facing the consequences.

“And we keep on making a competition out of this. We all should be there and say whatever we have to say.” You said in a determined tone. You were all responsible, one way or another.

“Look, Y/N… maybe I can tell him?” Mayra whispered as the rest kept on debating who should speak up.

“I don’t know how it could help…” You said back. Yes, Mayra knew him better than you, but she hadn’t been involved, she didn’t have to.

She opened her mouth to protest, but T-Dog’s words captured your interest instantly:

“My point... Dixon's alive and he's still up there, handcuffed on that roof. That's on us.”

When the fire was out and everyone got into their tents, including your sister, you still sat on the same log as before. The scenario felt strange, almost unknown to you: outside at night, under the cloudy night sky, and still not unsafe. It had been so long since you felt immortal and undefeatable, just like any other girl your age felt... like nothing could happen to you, not ever. You missed it. But beautiful as that night was, the imminent danger thickened the air.

You felt your eyes growing heavier each second. You were ready to go to sleep, so you got up and started to walk to the tent you and Mayra would share, but the sight of someone on the roof of Dale’s RV made you stop on your tracks.

Shane was keeping watch, and you wondered if he did it each night, or how had they arranged the shifts. He looked tired and the look on his face was anything but friendly.

“Hey, want to switch?” You asked approaching the stairs and climbing up, not waiting for an answer. Once you got off the stairs, your eyes wandered through the trees and landed up in the sky. If he kept watch every night, then you knew why. The view wasn’t mesmerizing, you had seen more beautiful countless times before, but the air up there was lighter, and the breeze, soothing.

“Sorry ‘bout Ed today.” Shane ignored your question. You sat down next to the chair he was sitting in.

“Don’t be, he’ll pay for what he’s doing to his family someday. Soon, I hope.” You looked up and realized his eyes were lost somewhere in the horizon. He looked tired, and if you read more into it: defeated. “Go to sleep, I’ll stay. I want to.”

It came as a surprise to you: that was all he needed to hear. He didn’t protest, he got up, handed you the shotgun and left. You didn’t know if he would be able to get some sleep, at least he could try to.

But what you did know was that you weren’t suddenly concerned about the sleeping schedule of a man you had just met. You were desperately in need of being alone. Being around so many people was something you had only dreamt about, at least for the last weeks, and although you felt the luckiest you had ever felt, the safety you had found allowed you to put your feet back on the ground.

Everything had happened so fast. You almost died, and more than once. You met people, they saved you, you left one of them to die, you found out Mayra was alive and safe, Rick’s family was with her… and you still had to figure out how to break the news to Merle’s brother.

You were going back to the city, too, as if everything that had happened wasn’t enough. You’d do it for your sister, and for the men who saved her, as questionable as they were.

And suddenly, it clicked.

The bag. The guns.

You had to remind Rick. It could save the group from an attack from walkers, or from other people. That way you knew somebody else would go back with you and you would actually have a shot of coming back alive, even if they despised Merle.

“Merle! Merle! Get your ugly ass out here! I got us some squirrel! Let's stew 'em up.”

You had just finished hanging some of your clothes to dry when an unbothered and loud voice caught everyone’s attention. From their wide eyes, you could tell who had just gotten back. Merle’s brother, Daryl, sounded, moved, and acted just like him. It wasn’t just the accent, but his words, how his presence made everyone uncomfortable… you could tell they were expecting him to snap as soon as he found out. Behind him, Shane and Rick looked and nodded to each other. You approached them, determined to be a part of it even if hell broke loose.

“Your brother was a danger to us all, so I handcuffed him on a roof, hooked him to a piece of metal. He's still there.” Rick got to the point with no rambling.

“We locked the door, he’s safe from walkers.” You dared to look at him in the eyes, but regretting it as soon as he opened his mouth.

“Hold on. Let me process this. You're saying you handcuffed my brother to a roof and you left him there?!”

“Yeah.” Rick stepped in front of you, and without skipping a beat, Daryl attacked Rick, who shoved him off.

You took a few steps back and spotted your sister, who was just getting out of the RV. Her eyes widened and her mouth hung open as soon as she realized what was happening: Daryl, Shane, T-Dog and Rick were yelling at each other. She stood in her place, everyone in the camp knew well not to intervene. Shane had Daryl on a chokehold as Rick explained to him that he wanted to have a calm discussion, which seemed to force Daryl to give in. Shane let go of him.

“What I did was not on a whim. Your brother does not work and play well with others.” Rick kept going. At that point, you guessed nothing could actually calm Dixon, he was still breathing heavily.

“It's not Rick's fault. I had the key. I dropped it.” T-Dog cut in.

“You couldn't pick it up?” Daryl snarled.

“Well, I dropped it in a drain.”

“If it's supposed to make me feel better, it don't.”

“Hey, I told you, the door’s chained with a padlock. There’s no way walkers could get to him.” You repeated, trying your best to be concise and get to the point: Merle was still out there.

“And who the fuck are you?” Daryl took a few steps forward and stared at you in the eyes. You weren’t scared, but it did take you by surprise. You stumbled back and raised your hands, putting them in between you.

“She’s my sister, Daryl!” Mayra’s shaky voice made him turn around. You couldn’t see his face, but hers was filled with heartbreak. She felt she had failed him, as if she had broken an unspoken promise. Daryl faced you again.

“Funny, huh? How I saved your sister but you left my brother to rot.” He growled. His voice low and irritated.

Your eyes jumped from Mayra to him. You straightened your body and took a deep breath. He was right. You felt miserable, and you couldn’t imagine how hard it was for Mayra, you knew you would have to do something as soon as she told you her story.

“I know, that’s why I’m going back there. With or without you.”

#daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon oneshot

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doctorgerth · 4 years

Text

Writing Contest Winner (1st Place)

winner: @thenotsofantasticlifestory

prize: One Shot between 2,000 - 5,000 words with any character of choosing

description: The angsty journey of Law falling for Kiki (OC) while he treats her battle wounds.

ratings: general audiences

warnings: mentions of blood/gore, cursing, angst/comfort, lots of Law pining

notes: this song gives me MAJOR Lawki vibes and helped me to write this one shot so take a listen if ya wanna! Hope ya like it, Sto!! ‘twas an honor to write for the wonderful ship that is Lawki 💕

One Shot

Word Count: 3931

“Get behind me!” Kiki called out to her comrades, using the last bit of her power to summon thick vines to attack at the enemy before them. Law heard her command as he watched helplessly from afar, defeating the few enemies left on his side of the battlefield before frantically shambling himself towards her.

“Kiki, no!” Both Law and the crew cried out, but their pleas fell on deaf ears. With obvious strain, Kiki gathered up the remainder of her power, a haze beginning to distort her sight as she aimlessly attempted to protect her wounded friends. She didn’t think twice in sacrificing herself for them. But there was no use as the energy drained from her, giving the enemy an opening to attack. The enemy blasted, a blinding and deafening explosion enveloped her and the crew screamed helplessly as the wind threw them backwards violently.

As soon as Law awoke from his brief black out, he scrambled amongst the rubble in search of her. Blood and sweat trickled down his body, dampening his clothes as he ached with each movement. He pushed forward, crawling and dragging himself across the jagged rocks, screaming out her name in desperate manners. The silence that answered was frightening.

Suddenly, a strange, thick substance against his palms startled him. As he looked down, the blood that dripped from his hands made his skin run ice cold. His eyes trailed the stream towards Kiki’s unconscious, battered body. Ignoring the increasing pain, Law scurried towards her, frantically removing the bloodied debris that threatened to bury her whole. With weak fingers, he checked her pulse, a mixture of terror and relief when the faintest thumping bounced under his scarred fingertips.

A dark thought flashed in his mind as he stared down at her, slowly losing hope. Only mere seconds long, but it pounded in his skull along with the erratic beating of his heart and left a haunting chill in the aftermath. The distant call of his name couldn’t tear him away from the way his trembling hands gripped at Kikoku snug against his hip.

Would he do it?

* * *

Law was able to heal in no time. He needed to after all in order to focus on healing the rest of his crew and most importantly Kiki. There were a few minor aches and pains that would flare as he hurried between rooms, checking vitals and stitching up wounds, but Law always pushed through. At the end of the day, when he would enter her room, everything else seemed to subside.

“Good evening, doctor.” She beamed, eliciting an odd tug at his heart that he didn’t quite like. Nevertheless, he returned her warm greeting with a small smirk, reaching towards the clipboard and eyeing at her bandages.

“How are we feeling today, Miss Kiki?”

“Just peachy! Check it out, I can stretch my left arm now!” Kiki slowly extended her arm out and Law winced as he witnessed her struggle to do so.

“That’s not nece-”

“See? Look at it, it- ow, ow, ouch.” Kiki hissed and retreated her arm back into its resting position quickly, a clear display of disappointment in her expression. “Nevermind…”

Law sighed as he walked over to her bed, gently grazing against her bandaged arm as he settled it into its correct position against her stomach. His thin fingers felt oddly warm even through the layers of gauze, “You don’t have to prove anything to me, Kiki-ya.”

Law didn’t realize the way he stared at her longingly, but Kiki had noticed and a warmth spread across her face in response. She’d known Trafalgar Law well over a year now after agreeing to allow him to study her logia powers in exchange for helping her find her crew. She’d liked to think she knew him pretty well, but his suddenly soft gestures were unfamiliar and she wasn’t sure how to take them. The way the innocent contact made her tingle in excitement every single time was a little troubling. Kiki looked down at his own bandaged knuckles, clearing her throat, she asked, “Well how about you, Law? How are you feeling?”

As if coming out of a trance, he shook his head, taking a moment to process what she had asked. He removed his hand from her arm more quickly than he intended, and he mentally cursed himself, praying she didn’t get the wrong idea. Law took a few notes on the clipboard while studying her IV levels and taking out her checkup tools, “Don’t worry about me.”

Kiki pursed her lips, studying him as he took notes. With each visit, Kiki noticed that Law grew increasingly strange. Some days he’d be awkward and distant, other days he’d be gentle and reassuring. I’m not dying, am I? Kiki thought to herself in mild panic.

He stuck his hand out in a silent request for her arm. His long, nimble fingers curved around her bandaged wrist gently, almost stroking it as he wrapped the cuff around her. That familiar warmth ignited in her cheeks as she assumed this was a gentle Law day. Not that she minded that side of him. It was always welcomed, just a little alarming as she couldn’t figure out why he had changed so drastically from the cold, aloof Law she initially met.

As he pumped, the two tried to focus their gazes on anything but each other. The ticking of the clock overhead pounded like drums, impending anxiety making the room seem devoid of oxygen. She wanted to say something, anything, but the hold he had on her was somehow draining all coherent thoughts. After a few more agonizing moments of silence, his low voice whispered out, “Kiki-ya, I-”

Her ears perked up, eyes darting over to look at him curiously. Law’s eyes were downcast as he watched the needle tick. He was hardly even reading her pressure anymore, frozen in place as images of her bloody, wounded body suddenly flooded his mind. The panic of trying to find her when the smoke cleared, the fear for her life as he spent extensive hours operating on her. All the open wounds and blood that stained his hands. The painful shrieks as he cut her open and stitched her up. The sleepless nights and endless studying of how to improve her healing, how to take all the pain away. The brief moments of fearing a life without her. All haunting thoughts came crashing onto him as he stared at the bandages, remembering how ghastly the wounds looked underneath. It was agonizing, as with each of her cries and screams during treatments, Law wanted to reciprocate ten times over. Seeing her in so much pain was something he never wanted to witness again and thankfully the worst of her treatments were over. But how many more times was she going to get hurt because of him?

“Law.” A soft voice called out in the darkness. The voice sounded like sunlight personified, making the rolling storm in his head dissipate with her entrance. He wanted to hear it forever, bask in the warmth of that comforting lull of his name. It’s what always brought him out of the unforgiving depths of his mind.

He blinked twice as he came to, his teary vision refocusing on her and the pained look she offered him. A warmth against his cheek startled him, and he flushed immediately after realizing he was caressing her palm against his cheek in a comforting manner. Clearing his throat, he uncuffed her arm and placed it awkwardly beside her, trying his hardest to ignore the crave for her warmth at the loss of contact.

“Your readings are good. I’ll be back to check on you later.” Law couldn’t possibly look her in the eye anymore, especially after that embarrassing exchange. Who knows what she thought of him now. He scribbled the information down quickly before speed walking towards the door, eager to get some fresh air before he suffocated. As he reached for the knob, she called out to him again, halting him in place.

“You know you can tell me anything. Right, Law?”

He gripped at the knob as a cold shudder coursed through him. Her kind words were meant to be a reassurance, solace, but he knew them to be lies. He couldn’t possibly tell her anything, especially not how he truly felt about her, no matter how bad he wanted to. A sudden barrage of knocks startled the both of them. Law opened the door to an eager Shachi, Penguin, and Bepo.

“How is she today? Can we see her?” As their eyes averted to Kiki sitting up in bed, they instantly rushed in with child-like excitement, “Kiki, we brought cards again!”

Law didn’t have to turn around to see the bright smile on her face. He could hear it in her voice, “Good! I look forward to kicking your asses again in poker.”

The trio hurried over to her, protesting against her confidence and getting settled for another night of cards. As she smiled, they couldn’t see the worried eyes she burned into Law’s back as he exited the infirmary with quiet shuffles.

As Law stepped into the hallway, he took a big gulp of air, embracing the way it filled his tensed lungs and brought life to his stiff body. Normally, he would’ve been annoyed by their antics. He was admittedly a little jealous each time the crew exchanged some personal time with Kiki. Whether that was the dweeb brigade card games, Bepo napping with her, or even Ikkaku having some afternoon tea with her, Law envied all of them. Each visit from him was scheduled and dry, bringing nothing but checkups and awkward exchanges. He wanted to be fun, he wanted to bring her joy during her recovery, but all he would ever be was her doctor; her means of transportation until she found her crew. He hated to admit that it hurt him, because over time, he came to realize he wanted to be so much more.

Law leisurely strolled down the hallway, hands in his pockets, and eyes focused on the floor. The clicking of his boots echoed within the sub walls and he was left alone in the chilly darkness once again. He tried to focus on anything except her, but lately Kiki has been the only thing to occupy his mind. He made a few rounds of checking on other members of the crew as temporary distractions before returning to his office. As he opened the door, he jumped a little at the figure that loomed over his desk before recognizing the all too familiar silhouette.

“Ikkaku, what the hell are you doing here?”

She remained silent for a moment, studying the notes on his desk before turning to him, arms crossed tightly against her chest, “When are you gonna tell her?”

“Who?” An annoying, defensive tone cracked in his voice, making him grimace in response. He always hated that about himself.

“You know damn well who, Captain.” She sighed impatiently.

“Don’t be annoying.”

“Don’t be a wuss.”

Law pinched at the bridge of his nose, feeling pure agitation bubble up in his system. Only Ikkaku could rile him up like this. She always tried to act like a know-it-all big sister and it always pissed Law off, even if she was usually right, “I don’t have time for this, Ikkaku. Get out.”

“Why? So you can get back to your pathetic pining?” Ikkaku grasped at the notes on his desk, flailing around all of the embarrassing poems, doodles, and scribbles of Kiki’s name. He tried to deny all of it while he reached out desperately to retrieve them, snarling at Ikkaku and her defiant behavior.

“Get out!” Law was inches from her face, a threatening look in his eyes as he snatched the papers away and pointed towards the door.

Ikkaku tried to stand her ground, but ultimately sighed and shoved her way past him, “You can’t hide your feelings forever, Captain. I’m just trying to save you from heartache.”

How was she so confident a confession wouldn’t lead to heartache? Law plopped down exasperatedly onto his chair, shoving the papers into the trash bin under his desk, “Wait, Ikkaku-ya.”

She immediately stopped at the door, eyeing him over her shoulder as she awaited his next words.

“How did you know? Am I that obvious?”

She scoffed with a confident smile, “A lady always knows when a man is in love.” She paused and turned to him, leaning against the door frame, “And yeah, you’re pretty obvious, Captain. Like a sad little lovesick puppy. It’s embarrassing.”

He groaned helplessly as he planted his hands roughly against his face and tugged at the bottom of his tired eyes, “Do you think she knows?”

Ikkaku stood in thought for a moment, revisiting all of her past conversations with Kiki in her brain as she searched for any significant conversations. A small smile graced her lips, “It’s never obvious when it’s us that a man is in love with.” With that, Ikkaku waltzed away.

Her words were meant to offer some wisdom, Law was sure of it, but it only offered him further confusion and hopelessness. He thumped his head against his desk, sighing dramatically as he tried to calm his racing heart. Even the mere thought of confessing to Kiki was enough to nearly send him into cardiac arrest. He just had so many things to fear. He had convinced himself that in his case, the cons heavily outweighed the pros, even if that meant Law being sad and lonely for the rest of his life.

Kiki was just temporary after all. He only agreed to have her on board and help her find the Straw Hats if she would let him experiment on her. Falling in love with her in the process was what he least expected and wanted. He had noticed after some time the way he grew fidgety around her, how her mere presence had his heart racing and face flushing. She made him blush and daydream about all kinds of embarrassing things, and Law was not a blusher. All of this wasn’t like him, he’d always been calm and collected, but the mention of her name had him sweating buckets and desperate for air. In typical Law fashion, he tried to find a logical reason behind his odd mannerisms. But emotions were much more complicated than he realized.

He couldn’t come to terms with the four letter word until that day; the day he almost lost her. Night after night, as he relived her moment of attack in each of his nightmares, all he could think about was the solemn realization that passed through his mind as he stared down at her near lifeless body. He could use his immortality power over her. Even if she didn’t want it, even if that meant leaving everything behind, Law came to the realization that he would have easily sacrificed himself for her sake. He would’ve died so she could live.

It was a truly sobering thought to say the least, considering he’s never thought about going that far for anyone else before. That’s what terrified him the most, the fact that he’s found someone worth throwing everything else away for. He was constantly at war with himself over the idea. He was a captain, he had goals and dreams, other people to care for. He couldn’t just let someone like her in, there was hardly room in his damaged heart for someone like her anyway. He was selfish and cruel and unlovable. She was warm and bright and deserved all the love in the world. He couldn’t possibly provide that for her. So he’d tried over and over to forget about it, but every time he walked in that room, every time she gave him that goddamn smile, he couldn’t help but go weak in the knees. An intense feeling of wanting to give her everything he had just to keep that precious smile on her face…

Law looked up at the clock. It had already been two hours since that exchange with Ikkaku and she was right, all he did was pathetically pine. With a disgruntled sigh, he arose from his chair and made his way to Kiki’s room once more.

How would he tell her? Should he just come out with it? Was it inappropriate of him to confess now, when she’s helpless in a hospital bed? What would she think of him? What if this ruined everything? His hand shook as it reached out towards the knob, his beating heart deafening his crowded mind. What a pain this entire ordeal was.

A shriek and the sound of items falling from inside the room jolted him out of his thoughts and he frantically opened the door. He instantly found Kiki curled up on the floor, grasping at her knees and wincing in pain, “Kiki-ya!” Law rushed over to her, helping her rise to her feet and watching the tears trickle onto the floor. He couldn’t stand the sight, that feeling of wishing he could take all her pain away returned in the pit of his stomach.

“I’m s-sorry, Doc…” She huffed with a broken chuckle as he laid her gently in the bed. The blood soaking her bandaged arms brought painful memories, and though he tried his hardest to suppress it, a protective anger accidentally burst from him.

“What the hell were you doing out of bed? I told you at least two more weeks of bed rest, idiot!” He hissed through gritted teeth as he started to cut at the bandages, reaching over for more gauze on the bedside table.

She couldn’t look him in the eyes, “I was just seeing if I could stand…”

“Why?! Are you trying to hurt yourself further? Do you want to stay in this bed forever?!”

Not an invitation, not an invitation. Law was screaming now and he couldn’t do anything to prevent it. How stupid of her to try to stand on legs she hasn’t walked on in weeks! Though he chastised her, it was only masked worry as he couldn’t bear the thought of her getting hurt anymore.

“I’m trying to heal faster! If I just continue to lay here then I’ll only get weaker!”

“Don’t you think I’m trying to heal you? I wish for once you’d stop being so damn stubborn and let me help you!”

“You don’t have to treat me like a child! And quite frankly Law, you’re not my captain.” She barked back, snatching her arm away from him as soon as he finished re-bandaging, ignoring the sharp pain that elicited in response.

He stood from his position, “Fine by me. I wouldn’t want someone as insolent and careless as you in my crew anyway.”

Stop, stop, stop. Why was he spouting things he didn’t mean?

“Big words coming from you. Have you forgotten why I’m in this bed in the first place?”

He winced as he wished he could in fact forget why she was there, forget how much it hurt him to see her so helpless and in pain. How he’d give anything to make it all stop, “No one asked you to be foolish and risk your life like that!”

“Foolish? You think me protecting your crew was foolish?”

“Kiki-ya, you were nearly dead when I found you! Why would you just throw away your life like that?” Coming from the man who almost threw away his own life for hers; the words didn’t taste well in his mouth.

“I protected them because I love them!” She cried out, voice beginning to break. “Damnit, Law, everyone’s been thanking me and praising me for my actions and all you do is yell at me! Y-you’ve been weird, Law! Ever since that battle happened, you’ve been treating me differently!”

“You want me to thank you?” How could he possibly do that? Ever since her attempted sacrifice, he’s been in nothing but distress trying to care for her and heal her wounds; worrying night and day about nothing except her. If anything, she should be thanking me!

“I just don’t understand why you would hate me for trying to save your crew!”

Law groaned loudly as his hands flew up to his hair, tugging at the roots in frustration as he bellowed out, “Hate you? How do you still not get it? I love you, Kiki! Why the hell would I thank you for nearly killing yourself? God damnit, I almost sacrificed myself for you!”

A cold chill enveloped Kiki’s body at his words as they echoed in screams throughout the room. Law tried to calm his ragged breathing from his sudden outburst, slowly realizing what he had just confessed.

“You love me?” The phrase sounded utterly baffling rolling off her tongue, unfathomable.

“Don’t say it like it’s the most disgusting thing you’ve ever heard.” He scoffed, eyes averting away from her. He could feel his fists clenching and releasing as pure anxiety coursed through him. He didn’t expect a response, but the uncomfortable silence she offered was more disheartening than a verbal rejection.

“Law.” Kiki called out, emitting rays of light amongst his clouded mind once more. Even as she broke his heart, he still melted at the way she said his name, “Come here.”

Slowly, he looked towards her in disbelief. An unreadable expression was plastered on her face as she patted the space in the bed beside her. Law hesitantly obeyed and sat on the bed, back facing towards her. She gently raised up and placed her forehead against his back, focusing on his breathing.

“Do you mean that?” She whispered, an undeniable fear of him taking it all back caused a tightening feeling to pinch her throat.

“Yeah.” He replied casually, still unable to look at her. His thoughts raced as he anticipated rejection, mentally preparing himself for the impending heart ache.

She placed a hand on his shoulder, gently pulling him back towards her. He couldn’t help but oblige and turned to face her more comfortably with a solemn look in his eyes. Her hands cupped at his cheeks and he couldn’t help but lean into it, soaking in her warmth for what he believed would be the last time.

“I’m sorry for making you worry about me.” She whispered as everything finally began to make sense to her. Law’s change of behavior, his incessant worrying and gentle advances, it was all displays of love. She cursed herself for being so inconsiderate towards his feelings. Though she was still a bit too overwhelmed by the sudden confession to reciprocate, she hoped that the comfort she offered would help put his mind at ease, “I promise to be more careful from now on.”

Holding his face in both hands, she couldn’t deny how cute he looked in that moment; cheeks squished together, an adoring gleam in his eyes as he embraced the intimate contact. She could feel her perspective of him slowly morphing into something beautiful and she didn’t dare try to fight it. Kiki leaned in and placed a gentle kiss against his forehead; a tender affirmation that Law couldn’t help but blush freely at, all for her eyes to see.

“It’s late, go get some sleep.” She smiled as she playfully pushed him off of the bed, heart fluttering at the smile and low chuckle he offered in response, “You better rest well, because tomorrow I want to hear all about how much you love me.”

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