#especially this spin off heals every pain in my chest

[votaeto]

One piece gakuen rant!!

This spin off probably was made to heal the pain from the original one piece, I laughed too much my head hurts 😭

white beard playing game console with marco and ace, sun bathing and collecting seashells 😭

The funniest thing is that all of the pirates are middle schoolers and the marines are the teachers 😭 it kills me even white beard is a 3rd grade despite being 72 y.o 😭😭😭 doflamingo being a total different guy, he’s a celebrity and even bought things for luffy and the others 😭

At least make them high schoolers?? 😭😭😭

I keep screaming every time I see ace I might actually pass out he’s so handsome here Im so dead.

and asl brothers casually interacting and living peacefully 🥺🥺 ace sabo playing catch balls!! Im sobbing 😭😭

Even uta is in this spin off!! Im so happy because she’s my favorite girl!! To see her interact with everyone 🥺💘💘💘

[breannasfluff]

Standing Tall

Whump Rating: 3/5 TW: Injury, electrocution

Collaboration with @ikaishere! Art link here!

Sky isn’t one for complaining about the eras they visit. History shapes the land and the heroes take claim far too often. Wild’s world especially draws a lot of ire from the group. It’s too big, there are not enough towns, the weather is unpredictable—the list of complaints is never-ending. Sky stays quiet because it’s not Wild’s fault.

Right now, Sky is considering every foul-mouthed curse Legend has ever spat. He and Hyrule are cut off from the others; fighting and the terrain driving them apart. A storm rolled in—too fast to be normal. Maybe there’s a wizzrobe summoning it.

Or, maybe the chosen hero has the worst luck.

Whatever the reason, the sky is black and grey; swollen clouds bursting with rain. It spits and bites as it falls. The wind switches directions continuously, throwing water in his eyes.

Oh, and there’s lightning striking the ground and enemies at random intervals. He’d be more thankful for the thinning of the ranks if it didn’t keep landing uncomfortably close to the two heroes.

“Duck!” Hyrule’s shout has him dropping on instinct, just before a sword slices over his head. The monster he’s engaging pauses for a fraction of a second. Sky uses the opening to swipe Fi through the monster’s legs, bringing it down. Then he slams the sword through its chest. In seconds, it vanishes in black mist.

Lightning slams nearby. The flash whites out his vision and the crack of thunder comes a split second later.

Sky waves his sword, mostly blind as he blinks and tries to get his eyes to refocus. A monster behind him lands a dull blow across his shoulders. He grunts, spinning Fi on instinct and jabbing it directly backward. Another monster down.

Yet no matter how many they cut down, more and more reinforcements are coming. Not every monster has black blood, but there’s enough to be a worry. Are the others okay?

Sky spins and slashes, then slips on the wet grass. He recovers but has to block the next blow awkwardly.

Hyrule shouts—in anger? In pain? Then he’s next to Sky, knocking aside the monster and pulling Sky to his feet. “I’m going to call for thunder!”

“What?” The hero spins, Fi glowing bright, to keep an eye on the incoming hoard. “There’s already a storm!”

“No, Thunder! My spell! It will take down a lot of these guys at once.”

“Doesn’t that take a lot of magic?”

“Yeah.”

“What if we need healing?”

Sky can’t see the eye roll, but he can imagine it. “Look, do you have any bright ideas on how we are getting out of here?”

He doesn’t, but he’d rather not admit it out loud, either. “What do you need?”

“Just a few seconds to concentrate. Cover me?”

“Always.” The Master Sword spins, leaving a blurring trail of light in its wake. Sky stays close to Hyrule, darting around him to cut off approaching monsters. The traveler’s hands gleam with magic and even under this sullen sky, the white-gold of lightning glows bright.

Hyrule starts to pull his hands apart, ready to direct the spell outward.

That’s when things start going wrong.

One of the monsters has a bow and, unnoticed by Sky, is aiming at Hyrule. It’s let loose before he can shout a warning. The arrow is thick and heavy; not the shoddy twigs most of the bokoblins use. It sinks through Hyrule’s shoulder—how deep, Sky doesn’t know.

Hyrule doesn’t scream. In his era, screaming is how you die. Instead, there’s a pained grunt ripped from his lips. One hand goes to clutch his shoulder on instinct. The lighting spell, formed yet directionless, separates with a pop.

“Shit!”

It’s the only warning Sky gets to drop to the ground, trying to make himself lower than the monsters. The spell wobbles with little direction. Then it glows brighter and starts humming. He covers his neck with his hands and braces for the explosion,

It never comes. The hum of the spell turns into a whine, then peters out. With a loud snap, not unlike the thunder, the magic collapses in on itself and vanishes. There is no lightning to save them now.

Sky throws himself at the monsters, but it’s a lost cause and they both know it. Lightning was their ticket to getting out of this mess and rejoining the group. Sure, they could wait for the others to come find them, but they’d only find dead bodies if they didn’t escape this fight.

“We need to get the arrow out!”

“I know that! I can’t heal around it. And most of my magic went to that spell.”

Jump a swipe, dart in closer. Twist Fi and bring her slicing edge through. The academy trains them in swordplay and his adventure fills in the gaps that remain.

Quieter, Hyrule says, “I’m bleeding.”

“I know you are!” It’s a little obvious with the arrow in his shoulder.

“You don’t understand!” Hyrule is rapidly tipping into panic. “It’s my blood! Monsters are drawn to it in my era!”

“This isn’t yours!”

“But some of the monsters are!”

Sky almost freezes, then continues fighting as he lets this fact sink in. There’s no time for questions. If Hyrule says this will be a problem, Sky believes him. “We need a way to wipe out all of these monsters in one go.”

“I can help fight if you cut off the arrow.”

The chosen hero risks a glance at Hyrule. He’s wavering where he stands, knees nearly buckling. His face is drawn and water drips off his lashes. In between words, he’s sucking air through his teeth and hissing it back out. He has to be in an incredible amount of pain, but there’s nothing to be done.

Sky continues fighting and protecting Hyrule. There’s a flash of light and on instinct, Sky covers his eyes. It doesn’t save his ears from the assault of thunder, but at least he’s not blinking away spots.

This blast lands even closer than the others; the hair on Sky’s arms rises despite the rain. The monsters finally back off, wary of the blasts. They don’t leave, but it gives the two breathing room for the moment. Well, breathing for him. Hyrule seems worse off.

“We need to get that arrow out before this fight continues.”

“We need to stop the bleeding, you mean.” Hyrule sets his jaw. “I can heal the wound around the shaft for now—”

“Absolutely not. We’d hurt you trying to pull it out later.”

Green eyes meet his, heavy with knowledge “I don’t think we have a choice.”

“We always have a choice.” Never mind that none of the heroes got a choice about joining this quest. Or any of the previous, for that matter. Sure, they could have refused, but the hero’s spirit is a strong pull to deny.

Sky glances around, then kneels at Hyrule’s side. “We don’t have long. The monsters are wary but they are already forming up.”

“How bad is it?”

He glances at the shaft, then leans Hyrule forward to check his back. “It went through. I’ll have to cut it and pull the two pieces out.”

The traveler gives in to a flavorful assortment of curses, then nods and digs in his pouch for a stray piece of leather to bite down on. “Make it fast. Some of them smell my blood, I can tell.”

Sky does his best to shut out the battlefield and shut out his brother. This is just another puzzle, another task. Remove an arrow without causing further damage. Battlefield medicine isn’t his forte, but he’ll do his best.

First up is cutting the arrow. “I’m going to have to use some force to split it,” he apologizes. Then he sends a silent apology to Fi because this isn’t the correct use of the Goddess' sword. Holding the fletching steady, Sky holds up the sword. Something crackles over his skin, biting as it goes.

He gives it little thought, bringing the sword down as close to Hyrule’s chest as he can. It slices through the arrow neatly, but it pulls a muffled scream from the traveler as it tugs on his shoulder.

“Sorry! Sorry! It’s a clean cut so it shouldn’t cause further damage. Let me pull it out. Are you ready to heal?”

Hyrule nods, although his eyes are watering with pain. Sky goes around to his back and braces one hand on his shoulder and the other around the arrow shaft. A darting glance at the monsters—they are definitely coming back—and Sky yanks. The wood slides free, slick with blood.

The traveler moans, but his hand glows faintly with magic. He stops sooner than expected. The holes are barely scabbed over, stopping the bleeding.

“Are you okay?”

Spitting out the leather, Hyrule tries for a flat look. Mostly, it looks panicked. “I’m out of magic. I had just enough to stop the bleeding, but the damage is done. Those monsters won’t stop seeking my blood until I or they are dead.”

He’s not going to be a help in a fight, then. He’s trembling, likely from shock and pain. Fresh blood still coats one side of his tunic from the wound. A few inches further and Sky might be standing over a dead body.

He can’t let that happen. Stepping in front of Hyrule, he holds the sword ready and glares at the approaching monsters. “You want him? You’ll have to have to go through me.”

The monsters take the challenge literally. No matter how fast Sky spins his sword, weapons keep sneaking through his guard. The layers of clothing are weighed down by water and soon cut by sword slices. One monster swings harder and a sword slices into his side.

The burning sensation has him grunting. He risks a glance down—bleeding, but not too badly. When he looks back up, the monsters swell around him. Hisses and howls add to the din of the wind and thunder.

One of the monsters raises its head and sniffs the air. “God killer!” it hisses.

Sky’s blood runs cold. Do they know about Demise? Well, if they want Hyrule’s blood, maybe it’s not a far stretch for them to go after him as well. He can use this to his advantage, though.

Glancing back at Hyrule—he’s holding a sword, but he’s fallen to the wet dirt. The combination of multiple magic spells, a long battle, and an ill-healed wound are adding up fast. Still, when a bokoblin rushes him, he pushes himself up and slashes at it. Hyrule is a hero and as long as he can breathe, he’ll fight.

Sky can’t let it come to that. He needs to be a distraction and draw them away. If they can smell his blood…it’s a terrible plan. It’s the only one he has.

Stealing himself, Sky thrusts his fingers against the wound at his side. By the three, that hurts. His body is doing its best to pump blood out of the slice as quickly as possible. He only needs to press to cover his hand in blood. Then he raises it in the air and waves it. The wind works with him for once, shifting to blow toward the monsters.

All attention focuses on him.

“I did kill your god! He was a blight on this world! By the Goddess’ name, I will not let that stand!” Sky charges for the top of the hill, digging his boots into the wet grass and mud. He only has seconds.

Behind him, the monsters roar and charge, converging up the side of the hill.

Sky raises the sword and calls for a skyward strike. It might not be the same as Hyrule’s lightning, but it should still thin the enemies. A tingle, then a buzzing prickles over his hand. The enemies rush closer.

“Sky! Don’t do it!” Hyrule shouts, one arm lifted to reach for him, despite collapsing on the hill. “The lightning!”

The air crackles and heats. He has only an instant to realize the danger. Sky is in Wild’s world, where lightning is attracted to metal. He’s standing at a high point, sword raised like a lightning rod.

The skyward sword strike charges at the same moment the lightning hits. The air explodes.

White light blinds the area and Sky can’t tell if his eyes are opened or closed. There’s a high-pitched sound and his throat hurts—is he screaming? Lightning claws its way down his arm and through his body. Muscles stiffen and lock. There’s a sense of weightlessness, and then something hard slams into his back.

Sky lays still. He can’t see anything outside of white light. His body burns. The previous lightning scars itch unbearably, but he can’t move his hand to scratch at it. His ears ring. Something is shaking him, but he can’t see or hear who.

Wild’s lightning bolts have a nasty habit of exploding with they strike; he must have been thrown. He’s probably got some new burns or lightning feathers, too. Great, Zelda is never going to let him hear the end of this.

Electricity continues to bleed out of his limbs and they twitch and tremble. A hand pats his face and although he can’t see, it feels like Hyrule.

“Sky! Sky!”

Ah, the ringing is dying slightly.

“Sky! Can you hear me?”

He manages a broken groan, which is as close as he can get.

“Just stay still, I think the others will be here soon. I don’t…I don’t have any more magic.”

“Monsters,” he manages. He can’t see. He certainly can’t stand and fight to protect Hyrule.

“The blast got them. They’re dead, Sky. You saved us.”

Well. At least he did one thing right. The rumble of thunder is fading and, at first, it seems like a product of his wavering hearing. But the rain spitting on his face is lessening as well.

“The storm is stopping. I think the others must have won. I hope.”

Sky hums and focuses on lying still. Hyrule still clutches his hand and he gives it a faint squeeze.

“How are you doing?”

The traveler’s voice breaks when he answers. “You’re asking me? You got electrocuted! Those monsters; they wanted to kill you! Why would you do that?”

Blindly, he reaches up until his palm meets Hyrule’s cheek. It’s wet; either from rain or tears. “Because you are worth saving, hero.”

Hyrule cries and Sky lets his hand fall. The muscles still jump and shake. Everything burns and itches. There’s a throb deep in his bones that says there’s more damage than on the surface. He still can’t see.

None of it matters, though, because Hyrule is safe. Sky will do whatever it takes to keep his fellow heroes safe. After cursing them to this never-ending cycle, it’s the least he can do.

“I see the others,” the traveler says, squeezing his hand. “Just hold on and we’ll get you fixed up.”

“You, too. Don’t think I forgot about your shoulder.”

A wet laugh. “Don’t tell Wild, but his weather sucks.”

That pulls a smile from Sky and he focuses on the feel of the sun warming his skin. The clouds must be dissipating. “After today? I agree.”

[teyvatdreams]

If it wouldn't be too much of a bother, can we have some angst with Zhongli, Childe, Kaeya, and Diluc (separately), where the reader gets so beaten up in a battle to where they were fatally wounded? Whether they get out alive or not can be up to you!! (I'm weirdly a sucker for angst hehebhrh)

them when you get severely injured

includes: zhongli, kaeya, childe, and diluc

a/n: i kinda turned this into a Them Thinking You’re Fatally Injured But You Actually Survive prompt so i hope u don’t mind anon ;;

warnings: mentions of blood and injuries

zhongli

after zhongli found you severely injured, you were in his arms in no time. he ran as fast as he could, holding on to you as tight as he could. your eyes eventually fluttered shut — you were too weak and in too much pain to tell him that it hurt to be in his arms.

your head was spinning. you could hear voices surrounding you, but you couldn’t understand what they were saying. your eyelids were too heavy to open as well. and as you drifted off, you were struck with fear for just a moment: scared that you would never open your eyes again.

but you did.

a few days later, your eyes finally opened again. zhongli stayed by your side every second he could. he was often sent home by baizhu or childe whenever he visited.

“zhongli?”

the sound of your hoarse voice pulls zhongli out of his thoughts. “you’re awake,” he comes closer, kneeling next to the bed you were in and stroking your hair. “you’re awake.” he repeats, as if it finally sunk in.

“how long have i been out?” you ask, a weak smile creeping into your face. you instantly felt comforted in zhongli’s presence.

“only a few days. but you’ll have to stay here a bit longer as you heal… do you even remember what happened?” he asks.

you sigh. “yes. but barely… almost as if i was having an out of body experience, watching it from afar…” you explain. “all i can remember is the pain.”

zhongli sighs, and squeezes his eyes shut as if he was the one in pain. “i’m so sorry, my love. i can’t begin to wonder what would’ve happened if i hadn’t found you.” he intertwines his fingers with yours.

“don’t think about that,” you say softly. “you did. and i’m okay.”

he leans in and kisses your forehead. “you’re okay.”

kaeya

you and kaeya had gone adventuring when you had a run in with some monsters after splitting up. usually they were no problem, but somehow you had managed to run into a larger group of them than you had ever gone up against. you were completely overpowered, eventually having to take a run for it before collapsing to the ground. you had escaped the monsters, but you were badly injured.

you had no idea where kaeya had gone. you had no idea where he was, especially since you had run so far from the monsters. he was the only one who knew you were out in the wilderness.

kaeya wasn’t nervous when he couldn’t find you. he knew you were a skilled adventurer. it wasn’t until he found the blood stained grass that he got a pit in his stomach. he was running around the area screaming your name, desperately trying to find you.

and when he did, he was terrified. you were sitting against a wall, covered in blood. he didn’t even know if you were still alive. he panicked and grabbed onto your shoulders, shaking you. you were still passed out, but kaeya knew you were still alive from the small groan you let out when he grabbed you.

he carried you all the way back to mondstadt, pure adrenaline pumping through his veins. you couldn’t die, not like this.

you finally awoke a few hours later, and pain instantly flooded into every part of your body. your pressed a hand against your forehead, trying to soothe the horrible ache in your head.

“(y/n)?”

you turn your head to see kaeya walking to the bed you were laid in. “kaeya,” you breathe, happy to see a familiar face. “what happened?”

“you were attacked… i think. and you were hurt very badly, but i’m sure you can feel that.” he sighs, chuckling. “but barbara patched you all up.”

you try to laugh, but the pain in your ribs stops you. “ah… it hurts.”

“i know,” he whispers. he strokes your arm. “just go back to sleep, okay? i’ll be here when you wake up.”

childe

childe looked in horror at the deep gash on your body, his entire body trembling. he had only looked away for a moment. why did they attack you? why did they want to hurt you?

he defeats the remaining treasure hoarders in a few slashes before helping you stand up, warm blood instantly staining his grey clothing. “come on, (y/n), you can do it.”

“childe,” you say softly, barely able to stand on your own two legs. “childe, it hurts,” you sob. you try to keep your eyes on the ground ahead of you — looking at your wound would only intensify your panic.

“i know it does, i’m sorry,” his voice trembles as he stops to pick you up, slinging you over your shoulder. you let him. you were so dizzy.

you lose consciousness at some point. you woke up later, bandaged up. but the pain was still strong, and you groan in pain moments after opening your eyes. you squeeze them shut again, trying to steady your breathing.

when you open them, childe is by your side, gently grabbing onto your hand. “hey, hey, breathe…” he says softly.

the softness of his voice and gaze was something you had never seen. but it made you feel safe.

“i’ll go get some more medicine for you… it should help with the pain. just rest up,” he tells you. he stands up to leave when you grab onto his arm.

“when you get back… please don’t leave my side…” you whisper.

he gives you a small smile, nodding. “i won’t. i promise i won’t.”

diluc

usually, diluc did his business with the abyss order by himself. he only let you tag along if he was 100% sure you’d both be safe, but for somehow, you had convinced him to let you join him on what he thought would be a more dangerous mission.

and as he sprinted out of the abyss stronghold he had been informed of with you in his arms, he regretted being so easily persuaded by you.

it only took a second for you to get hurt. he didn’t know how badly you were injured, but he could feel his sleeves getting soaked in blood. all he knew is that he had to get you out of there. the mission didn’t matter anymore.

once he felt like he had gotten a safe distance away, he set you down. you had gone completely limp, and diluc felt panic rising in his chest. you had gotten wounded on your back. luckily, the bleeding had slowed, but it still needed attention.

“god,” diluc mumbles, picking you up again. “i’m so sorry. i’m so sorry, my angel.” he holds onto you tightly and starts walking, praying that you’d make it back alive. all he could do was look after the bleeding and try to keep your wound clean.

for the first time in a long time, diluc is scared. he’s absolutely terrified. a tear escapes his eye. he nearly jumps out of his skin when he feels your thumb wipe it away.

“(y/n)?” he can barely keep a good grip on you, but he keeps walking forward.

you give him a weak smile. “don’t cry, diluc. it’s just a little scratch, right?” you grunt in pain.

“don’t move. i’m gonna get you back to mondstadt as fast as i can.”

[books-and-catears]

Welp, since I’m a regular now; I’mma just park my chair here and spin the idea wheel. And so the idea wheel has decided!

Let’s have the Brothers and Undatables react to MC just barging in unexpectedly while they’re busy doing whatever. Everyone’s just vibing together at Diavolo’s talking about things, playing games, and all dat jazz and suddenly MC comes in with a blank face before they get a sad expression (they’re this close 👌🏾 to having a breakdown, it’s so sad).

MC:....Can I have a hug? 🥺 *says weakly as they were seconds away from crying*

Bby needs comfort! (Let’s just say they recently lost a loved one and they want some affection)

My first ever regular. You have no idea how much I cherish you. Thank you for the funniest and angstiest asks ever. This hits too close to home. I've lost two very close people to disease and suicide in the last few years and the feeling is horrible. So this might end up being a bit self indulgent... apologies.

Please if any of your friends seem not okay, check up on them regularly. Even the adults in your life. And most importantly check up on yourself. Take care okay?

I will do my best to do this justice too. Sorry if it's a little late college and extra classes are a pain sometimes.

It was not news you were prepared to receive. Not that day. It was supposed to be a day of celebration.

Lord Diavolo had announced a small party just for Council and the exchange students. Asmo had taken hours to get you ready. Everyone was excited and in good spirits, clinking their glasses and cheering for a joyous reunion. There was music, dancing and laughter so loud, it felt like it was echoing all across Devildom.

And yet here you were in the bathroom, bent over a sink, staring at yourself in disbelief. You had received horrible news from the human world.

A last message an old friend had left for you.

"Hey MC, thanks for being kind to me. Although we have a long and sweet history, it felt good to reconnect and feel wanted in my last few days. Thanks for the last hug, MC. It was the best one I've ever had."

What kind of bittersweet message was this? What was the point of making them feel wanted if they still left anyway?

No you must keep your composure, you think. The laughter keeps echoing louder. While internal screams creep up your throat. You have to go back before they start worrying about you.

The doors to the ballroom feel heavy as you push through. "Hey look! MC's back! Now we-- MC...?"

You don't know what face you were making, but everyone went quiet. Some looked horrified, some worried and some panicked. You felt your head go dizzy with the pain, tears stinging the corners it your eyes.

Looking directly at one of them, you croaked out the first thing that came into mind.

"C-could I have a hug?"

Lucifer

This man isn't a hugger. But for you he'd make an exception every day.

Especially when you asked for it so desperately.

Walk up to you swiftly, holding the back of your head and pressing it to his chest, while his other arm wraps around you.

"Would you prefer to spend some time in private?" He whispers as you break into soft sobs in his arms and nod.

"Excuse us. We'll be back shortly. Anyone who follows us will face consequences. MC needs some time alone." He calls out to the rest and whisks you away to his room.

Makes you sit in his lap as he cradles you while you cry. Keeps telling you it's not your fault and you tried your best.

Mammon

Someone save this boy, he is a mess himself.

He feels guilty already. He can't stand to see you this way. What couldn't he protect you from??

Aren't you the one who rushes to give people hugs?

He returns the favour. Sprinting towards you and engulfing you instantly in his arms.

He feels your shaky breath as you cling on to him and goes bezerk.

"Oi. I'm taking MC home." It's the most serious he has ever been.

Doesn't hesitate to bring out his wings and fly you home as soon as possible. He cups your face as you cry, his fingers wiping down each tear. His eyes are pained looking at you like this, it wasn't even your fault. You tried till the end didn't you?

Leviathan

This man's protective trigger has been switched. Who dare be the cause of this?

You're his cheery best friend. He simply won't stand to see you like this.

Runs towards you and hugs you as tight as he can, like you've done for him so many times. Embarassment be damned.

You asked for a hug, he will definitely give you one. You grab onto his jacket with trembling fingers and lean into him.

"MC would you like to go home ?" He asks softly, patting your head. You nod softly.

Takes you home as fast as possible, and lays you down in his tub. When start crying violently he starts to tear up alongside you. Losing a friend isn't easy afterall.

Satan

His first instinct was violence. His fist tightening, about to murder whoever did this to you.

But the moment you raised your arms, asking for a hug in that small voice, it was like looking at a helpless kitten in pain.

Another one who sprints towards you to hold you close. His hug feels gentle yet urgent at the same time.

He cupped your cheek, and stared as your eyes grew misty. "Don't worry we're getting out this instant." Slammed the doors behind him as he left. A subtle message to leave them be.

He took you to common room, near the fireplace to warm you up, one of his arms always around you, as you wailed and choked on your tears. He presses kisses on your head too and tells you how kind you were. You did your part. You weren't responsible for someone else's actions.

Asmodeus

He is gasping and tearing up at the sight of you. Oh you poor thing who dare hurt you?!

How could he ever say no to your hugs? Especially now when you needed him most?

He comes at you with such speed that you both almost topple over. He rubs your back and arms trying to calm you down with his touch as he hugs you.

"Would you like to be alone with me MC?" The moment you nod, his wings are out and you're soaring through the air until you find yourself in his bath.

You lean against him and cry your heart out, he holds you from behind, pressing kisses on your head whispering it's okay.

Beelzebub

Baby boy is heartbroken. Why do you look like that? Where are you hurt?

He immediately hates that look on your face. He must do something to fix it immediately.

Runs and lifts you up in his arms and holds you so close to himself, his arms providing endless protection.

"MC will food make it better?" You shake your head so he takes off. He doesn't care about the feast he missed, he just wants you to be okay.

Flies you into his room and gives you plushies to hold onto while he gets you all your favourite food. Will hold you tight as you sob into his chest and will feed you later on cause he knows how exhausting crying can be.

Belphegor

He knows that face. And he knows the pain behind it. And now he's feeling it too.

Who did this? Who dared? Tell him their name and they're gone.

A hug, huh? He's ready to give you much more than that if you ask.

Walks towards you and wraps you up in his jacket and then his arms. His hug is so warm and soft you could fall asleep right there.

"Let's go lie down together." He will take you home and put you down in his bed, bundled up in his blanket, his soft pillow under your head. Pulls you flush against him as you sob and scream into his pillow.

Solomon

He is human. Of course he knows the face of ultimate pain. He's been through it so many times he's made himself immune.

But he wasn't immune to yours. Your ever smiling face - that was what he liked. This irked him, made him restless.

He's next to you in the blink of an eye, wrapping his arms around you, cloak and all, his mouth pressing down on your head.

"Let's take it to the sky shall we? Don't worry I've got you." He says softly. You nod, your fingers grasping at his shirt.

And in mere seconds you are soaring above the clouds, the gentle air cooling your burning heart as you cry into the wind. He holds you close and whispering to make you feel better.

Diavolo

He has seen this face only once before. When Lucifer came to him Lilith dying in his arms.

He saw the look on yours and he was determined to help you however he could. And if it started with a hug so be it.

Takes big strides and hoists you up in his arms, as you wrap your shaking arms around his neck and press your face into his jacket.

"The party is over. MC shall stay with me tonight I'll send them back when they feel better." Gone was his usual cheery tone. He seemed distraught, angry almost.

Took you to his bedroom and laid you down softly, still holding onto you tightly, keeping you from falling apart as you sob into his arms. Takes the next days off to be next to you.

Simeon

His emotions mirror your own. Seeing you in such pain, makes him feel the same.

His heart is breaking seeing you this way. He can't hold you fast enough.

He swiftly runs to hold your hands first. He feels them tremble in his own and he wraps himself around Immediately, cradling your head delicately.

"Let's get you away. You'd like that won't you?" He says running his fingers through your hair. You let you a breathy yes and he's off.

You land in Purgatory hall, curled up into him on the couch, freshly brewed flower tea on the table. He holds you close as you cry into his arms. Tells you that your friend is in a better place because you healed their soul before they left.

Barbatos

You made the usually composed demon crack. Even if for a moment, he felt the need to do something extreme.

What was causing you this much discomfort? He was ready to eliminate it.

A mere hug? Is that what would make you feel better? He is ready to deliver.

He's there before you know it, holding you like delicate royalty. You could crumble at how soft he was for you.

"Would you prefer somwhere more quiet?" He asks. You only need to nod once and he's already sweeping you off your feet and into his chambers. Picks the most calming teas for you as he sits by your side holding your hand.

Luke

He knew the demons were no good. Of course it was a matter of time before MC got hurt again.

He was about to cry looking at you, ready to throw hands at the whoever caused this.

A hug? A hug will help? YES OF COURSE.

He flies straight into, wrapping his little arms around your neck. Like a baby brother comforting a distraught older sibling.

"Come on MC! Let's get away from here!" He says and flies you off to purgatory hall. He brings you to the kitchen and starts whipping up your favourite desserts to cheer you up.

[storiesforallfandoms]

i don’t need your help ~ jace herondale;shadowhunters

word count: 2524

request?: yes!

“Alec Lightwood or Jace Herondale (either one works) smut? If you're comfortable with writing for shadowhunters, ofc <3″

description: after a run in with a demon that almost turns bad, a fight between her and one of her fellow shadowhunters turns into something so much more

pairing: jace herondale x female!reader

warnings: swearing, mentions of violence, smut

masterlist (one, two)

Izzy helped me limp into the Institute, my body feeling run down and exhausted already. She laid me down on a bed and it took me a moment to register that it was my own bed. I was aching all over, but I tried to keep a brave face. At least, I thought I was keeping a brave face. For all I knew I was sobbing like a baby.

“I’ll get my stele,” she told me. “Just...just stay awake, okay?”

I tried to respond but it came out as a pained moan instead. Izzy quickly raced from my room to her own. I could hear her in the distance furiously looking for here stele. I tried to stay awake but my eyes were starting to grow heavy and my head was lulling back against the pillow under me. The thought of drifting off into unconsciousness felt like the best idea I had ever had in that moment.

I heard someone at the door and thought it was Izzy coming back. When I looked up, I saw it was Jace standing in my doorway. His face was pale and he was staring at me in horror. I could only imagine how awful I looked.

“(Y/N),” he breathed. He quickly raced to my side and pulled his stele out. “What the hell happened to you?”

“She had a run in with a demon while she was alone,” Izzy responded, appearing at Jace’s side. “I got there just in time. Can you help me draw healing ruins? She’s going to need a few.”

“I’m way ahead of you.”

The slight burn of Jace’s stele touching my arm caused me to let out a yelp of pain. He looked at me with sympathy as he continued to draw the healing Rune. Izzy moved to my other side and started drawing a Rune there too. It hurt as they were drawing them, but I felt a numbness wash over my body as the Rune started to take effect.

Jace started to stroke my hair after drawing another ruin on me. He looked down at me, his face full of concern. “Rest while the ruins do their work, (Y/N).”

Getting Jace’s permission to finally rest felt like a blessing, and within seconds I was passed out.

~~~~~~

I wasn’t sure how long I was out. When I woke up again, my head still felt heavy and my vision was spinning a little. I tried to lift my head to look around, but it felt like someone had poured nails into my head and shaken it. I groaned and laid back down again, raising my hand to put it on my forehead. I realized then that the pain had completely left my body, except for the headache I had, and I felt good as new again.

“How long have I been out?” I asked, turning my head to see who had stayed with me while I was unconscious. I knew either Jace or Izzy had. They weren’t going to leave me when I was in such rough condition.

Through the slight darkness of my room, I could make out the figure sitting down as Jace. I was slightly shocked to see that Jace was the one who had stayed. Despite his caring and concerned nature when Izzy had first brought me home, the two of us weren’t exactly close. We didn’t hate each other or anything, but we were constantly fighting and he irritated the hell out of me. I didn’t think his kindness would extend to staying with me while I was unconscious.

“A few hours,” he responded. “It’s 2am now, you got back around 8 or 9pm I think.”

I groaned. “I definitely feel like I’ve been out for five or six hours.”

“What were you thinking?” Jace questioned, rising from his seat. “Facing a demon alone? You were lucky that Izzy had known where you were or else you definitely wouldn’t have been feeling as good as you do now.”

“Thanks for that, Captain Obvious,” I muttered. “For your information, I didn’t go out with the intentions of facing a demon alone. I was just out and I got cornered by a demon that knew I was a Shadowhunter. I wasn’t expecting it and it got the jump on me.”

“You shouldn’t have gone out on your own at all. You know the dangers of being caught are high, especially when you can be spotted at any time by a demon.”

I braced myself as I sat up, the pounding feeling in my head intensifying for just a moment, before slowly numbing again.

“I can’t stay cooped up here forever, Jace,” I retorted. “I’m more than capable of taking care of myself.”

“Obviously you’re not or else you wouldn’t have been on death’s doorstep when you got back here.”

“I was not on death’s doorstep. Izzy found me in time, but even if she hadn’t I would’ve been fine.”

“You didn’t look fine.”

I groaned and rolled my eyes. “Listen Jace, I appreciate this...concern you have for me, but I’m fine. I don’t need this lecture, I don’t need anyone’s help, especially not yours. You’ve made it very clear that you don’t actually like me all that much, so you don’t need to continue this caring act, or the lecture. I’m fine and I can take care of myself.”

The tension hung in the air. I expected Jace to walk away and to finally leave me alone. You can imagine my shock when he approached me suddenly, putting one hand behind my head and pulling me in for a kiss.

I was shocked. I didn’t know how to respond to it. I thought for a second that Jace had gone insane, that maybe some Downworlder had scrambled his brain or something. There was no way in Hell that Jace Herondale would willingly kiss me. I was just a torn in his side, and he was one in mine.

But something just felt right about the kiss. His rough hands were gentle as one cupped the back of my neck while the other was wrapped around my waist. He pulled me forward to the edge of the bed, nudging my legs open so he could stand between them. My hands were gripping the t-shirt he was wearing, taking in every last bit of him that I could.

I felt myself laying back on my bed against, Jace’s hand still under my head. He moved with me, hovering over me as our lips moved perfectly in sync with one another. His other hand slipped under my shirt, softly trailing up my side until he reached my bra. We broke away from the kiss just long enough for Jace to pull my shirt over my head and unhook my bra in one swift motion.

He looked down at me, his beautiful different colored eyes soft but full of lust. He gently ran his fingers over my cheek before pressing his lips against mine once more, then moving to start kissing cheek, my jaw, my neck. His lips hovered a moment over the fresh Runes that he and Izzy had drawn on my skin. When he pressed a kiss against them, it almost felt like he was soothing the slight burn that was still there. He continued to gently brush his lips over the white scars left behind from other Runes that had been drawn on my skin for years.

My head fell back against the pillow underneath me as Jace’s lips continued to kiss down my chest and stomach, stopping just above the hem of my jeans. He looked up at me, waiting for permission. When I nodded, he made quick work of pulling my jeans and panties off at one time. He pressed another light kiss just above m aching core before diving in with his tongue.

I gasped at the pleasurable feeling. Of course, being a Shadowhunter doesn’t mean you never have sex. Quite the opposite, really. All four of us in the Institution were no strangers to sex. But this...this was a feeling of pleasure beyond what I had ever experienced before. I blamed the fact that I had only ever had sex with Mundane men before now.

I ran a hand through Jace’s hair and grabbed hold of it. The action caused him to moan against me, the vibrations running through my body.

He lifted his head for air, replacing his tongue with his fingers as he lightly played with my clit.

“I can’t describe how long I’ve been waiting for this,” he said, placing gentle kisses against my stomach again.

“You have a weird way of sh - oh  - owing it,” I said, trying to tease him through the pleasure he was giving me.

He smiled in response and moved his hand away. I whimpered from the lack of contact, an action I wasn’t too proud of afterwards but in the moment I could care less.

Jace kissed my lips again, the taste of my arousal on his lips and tongue. It turned me on even more and I just wanted to have him inside of me.

I pushed him down onto the bed and climbed onto his lap, straddling him. He looked impressed by my action. I ran my hands down his still clothed chest, reaching the bottom of his shirt.

“I hardly think it’s far that you’re still dressed while I’m completely naked,” I said.

“Well, we can fix that,” he responded.

I made quick work of taking his clothes off, discarding them somewhere on the floor with my own. When I pulled his boxers down, I audibly gasped at his length. He chuckled at my reaction. “Surprised?”

“Surprised that my fantasies were true,” I responded.

Jace raised an eyebrow at me. “You’ve fantasized about me?”

I took him in my hand and started to slowly stroke him. A breathy gasp escaped from his mouth as he fell completely helpless to my touch.

“It’s hard not to sometimes,” I admitted. “When you’re walking around here in your tight clothes, or with no shirt on. You’re so confident and cocky, it’s hard not to imagine what you’d be like in bed.”

“You finally have the real me here,” he said. “Why not make those fantasies a reality?”

He didn’t have to asked twice.

I spit onto the head of his dick, using my hand to spread it all over him before lining him up with my entrance. The moment his tip slipped inside of me, we both moaned in pleasure and relief. So much built up tension between us, sexual and otherwise, finally being released.

I slowly sat myself down on him, taking in every inch. His hands found their way to my hips, his fingers digging in so harshly that I was sure I’d have bruises there. Once I had adjusted to his size, he started rocking my hips against him, the friction starting to build between us.

I placed my hands on his chest, trying to steady myself as I took over rocking my hips. He looked into my eyes, his mouth partially open as moans and whimpers escaped from his lips. Even with these small movements he was hitting a spot inside of me that I had never felt before. I was almost sure I’d orgasm within seconds.

Jace sat up then, wrapping one arm around my waist while planting the other one on the bed behind him. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders, holding on tightly as he began to thrust up into me. The motions were rougher and faster, hitting that spot inside of me with a force I hadn’t felt before. I buried my head in Jace’s shoulder, trying to muffle my moans as I remembered there were two other people living in the Institution.

“Does that feel good?” he asked.

“Fuck Jace,” I moaned. “That feels so fucking good. I might...I might...”

“What are you gonna do, princess?”

Fuck! And a pet name, too? I was putty in his hands.

I couldn’t even finish my sentence. My climax built up quick and hit me before I was even ready for it. I moaned Jace’s name against his shoulder as I felt myself clenching around him, a warm sensation running through my body.

“Fuck,” he breathed, his thrusts becoming sloppier. “I’m gonna cum.”

“Cum in me,” I whispered. “Please, Jace.”

He threw his head back and groaned as I felt him finish inside of me. I gasped at the feeling, which was almost enough to make me orgasm again.

Jace fell backwards onto the bed, taking me with him. I giggled as I settled against his chest, still wrapped around his softening member. I could stay like that for hours if Jace wanted to.

“Maybe I should get attacked by demons more often,” I mumbled to myself.

Jace tensed under me. “I would much rather if you didn’t.”

I moved my head to look up at him, raising an eyebrow. “Relax, I was only joking. I meant what I said earlier, Jace, I can handle demons on my own.”

He relaxed again, starting to trace his fingers up and down my back. “I know you can. I shouldn’t have overreacted earlier. I’m sorry.”

Normally I’d make some quip about him apologizing, but some things were starting to add up in my head. “You were always hounding me and shit because you were worried for me.”

It wasn’t a question, but Jace responded anyways. “Yeah. I...I just never wanted you to get hurt.”

“Jace, I’m a Shadowhunter just like you. I’ve faced numerous Downworlders before, both by myself and with you guys. I can take care of myself, you don’t have to worry about me.”

“I’m well aware of that. I’ve always been impressed with your fighting skills. It’s just...I care for you in a way that I’ve never cared for someone before. I always worry when you’re out with Izzy or Alec or anyone who isn’t me because I’m afraid of the day that...maybe you don’t come back. When I saw you earlier today...I was so terrified that I was actually going to lose you.”

I propped myself up a bit to take Jace’s face in my hands. “I appreciate how much you care, but you have to have faith in me, Jace. This is the first time I’ve seriously been injured while fighting a Downworlder, and I promise you it’ll be the last time too.”

Jace nodded. I smiled a little and leaned down to kiss him again. I finally decided to untangle myself from him, although I felt empty without him inside of me. I laid down next to him, feeling sleepy from our earlier activities.

My eyes were starting to close when Jace said, “Hey (Y/N).”

“Yeah?”

“Maybe we should close the door next time we decide to have sex.”

My eyes popped open to see that my bedroom door was wide open. I hadn’t noticed that earlier, what with being...“preoccupied” and all. I groaned and buried my face in Jace’s chest as he laughed.

[dirt-cup-draco]

Tethered- Fred x Reader

‘Don’t ever scare me like that again’ kiss with Fred where he lives (I’ve been crying about it lately) xoxo @starofthedawn

Your chest was tied up in knots, eyes burning and bile rising in your throat. The dust that permeated the air felt like gravel in your airways and you couldn’t help the wet cough that slipped past cracked lips. Even as you blinked away the tears that were running out, the world remained blurry and unfocused. 

After all, how could anything make sense when Fred was face down on the cobblestone. Pieces of the castle you two had called home burying him. 

“Lost in my eyes again, Y/N?” Fred asked, a playful tilt to his mouth. You were in the library, head buried in a book and not at all gazing into Fred’s honeyed eyes. You must’ve not heard him come in so when you looked up and saw him you couldn’t help the warmth that blossomed in your chest. 

You liked the way his lips were pulled up by an invisible thread as you finally took notice of him.  It wasn’t quite a smile, but a familiar expression that you held dear to your heart. It was understated, especially for Fred Weasley, but the expression was one of his most sincere. 

“Can’t help the fact you’ve got dreamy eyes, George,” 

“Sod off,” Fred said with no real venom, sitting in the chair beside yours and kicking his feet up onto the table. He was lucky Madam Pince didn’t often come to this corner of the library, otherwise she’d have his head.

You stuck your tongue out at him, even daring to toss a quill at his head- but before you could he caught your hand and held on tight. Your bright grin wavered at the edges but that joy was still blooming in your chest. Suffocation was a sure thing. 

“Everything okay, Freddie?” Voice soft, slow. You understood sometimes he just needed a hand to hold and you wouldn’t let yourself believe it was more than that. What it was, was Fred trusting you and needing you as a friend and that was more than enough. 

He nodded, his eyelids heavy and his demeanor sluggish. He almost seemed like a sleepy cat but you could see the way his shoulders dipped as you posed your question. 

Fred squeezed your hand as he sank down into his chair, knees now drawn to his chest in a protective ball. “Course I am, nothing could ever be wrong when I’ve got you to tether me to what’s good,” 

--

Your knees buckled as you stumbled the last foot to where Fred lay. Unmoving, broken, probably not breathing- You shook your head wildly even as the tears burned and your brain ached. Just like every other wizard, every other soldier at Hogwarts today, you had your fair share of injuries but you felt the pain dull to nothing; Your vision tunneled to the familiar hand that stuck out from the rubble, the feather soft shock of red hair that was visible under all the grey, lifeless stone. 

With a flick of your hand, some of the rubble broke loose and found themselves discarded on the burned and torn up grass ten feet from you. The panic pounding at your ribcage was only eased by the determination you felt to get Fred out of there, alive. There was no other option. 

Waves would stand still without the moon, plants would dry up without water, and you would cease to be anything but a shell without Fred Weasley. 

--

It had been an honest mistake at the time, George had tugged you away after class one day to an empty corridor and nearly begged you to ask Fred and put the both of you out of your “self sabotaging misery”. Problem was, all Katie Bell saw was George whisking you away somewhere private a week before the ball was to commence, both of you dateless. 

By the time you had both gone to the great hall for lunch, your group of friends were deep into speculations. 

“Going to the ball with Y/N then?” Fred fixed George with a look you couldn’t quite decipher but the shock of him thinking such a thing had you missing that usual twitch of his eye when he was aggravated. 

George whipped his head to you in confusion but it went unnoticed when Lee said, “Great! Of course you two got dates before me,” gesturing wildly to the twins. 

All of the confusion had your head spinning but hearing that Fred had a date to the ball made you steady again, the lead pit in your stomach anchoring you. Anyone would be a fool to not want to go with Fred. 

“You’ve got a date?” You said a bit too loudly, eyes narrowed at Fred. 

“Asked Angie,” 

“Yeah, two minutes ago,” She snorted. “Guess he didn’t want George to beat him by too much of a landslide,”  

George let out a too-loud laugh and tossed his arm back over your shoulders. “Take that Lee, we got two of the hottest girls in school to be our dates,” 

“Go with me instead and I’ll buy you as many sugar quills as your heart desires, Y/N” Lee bargained and George swatted him on the back of a head with a faux glare. 

You couldn’t help but snort at Lee’s antics, looking at George with gratitude. You could tell he was trying to talk you up, keep your heart from falling too far. However, his efforts couldn’t completely ease the ache in your chest. You were tethered to Fred and you didn’t think anything could change that. 

--

You’d done your best to completely immobilize Fred when most of the rubble was removed, only some of the smaller chunks of wall now littered over his legs and back. The immobulus charm had to be enough to keep him stable. If he was still alive. 

It was the uncertainty that kept you going in this moment. If there was even a slim chance Fred could be alive, you would do all you could to save him. You refused to lose him and that was that. You wished you could see his chest moving, or any sign of life but he was still too buried and the dust that settled over the battlefield made your eyes unfocused. 

Even though the final battle had ended an hour or more ago, how long had it been since you’d found Fred?, you were shut off from any of the joy that the win could have brought you. If Fred wasn’t going to be there to celebrate then how could you? 

“We’ve got to fix up the shop a-and get butterbeers,” You sniffled, trying to keep your hands from shaking as you worked your way through the rubble. You kept speaking as if holding Fred to his promises would bring him over the threshold and into your waiting arms. 

“You’ve got to give me that birthday present you’ve been bragging about for months, and you’ve got to help me prank Lee for singeing my favorite sweater with one of your fireworks,”

And on and on you went, all of the promises Fred had ever made you falling from your lips as you pulled the last of the rubble from his body. One of his legs and all of the fingers on his right hand were bent at grotesque angles. There was a line of blood that started somewhere behind his hairline and trailed down his temple, dripping off of his jaw and onto the ruins he had nearly become a permanent part of. 

You wouldn’t permit your legs to shake as you stood, the sun being further down in the sky than you remembered. The wave of your wand was light and methodical even as every step towards help weighed you down. 

Time passed you without you taking note, the sun sank beneath the horizon and you stumbled your way through the dark. Eventually, you were taken off guard by the light of someone’s wand. Time caught up to you then as you stared with bleary eyes, trying to recognize the face before you but having a hard time sorting anything in your over exhausted brain. 

“Help him,” Was all you had energy for, before darkness took over. 

--

“...understand how she did it,” 

“...miracle, really,” 

“Poor girl must’ve....” 

Conversations floated around your head as you lay cemented underneath the sheets that you had been securely wrapped in. You wanted nothing more than to swat them away like pesky flies, the voices weren’t loud but to you it was as if someone had put a speaker in the empty space of your skull and turned the volume up as high as it could go. Everything ached. 

“Am I dead?” You croaked, eyelids still too heavy to even attempt opening. 

Immediately, a woman nearly screamed and a cacophony of other voices rose up- both familiar and not. 

“You look like you wish you were,” Someone joked to your left and your eyes snapped open so quickly you became dizzy. You felt frozen in place as honey eyes swept over you from the top of your head to the tips of your toes. Despite being covered from the chin down you felt as if you were being looked through. A shiver ran down your spine and it was followed by a deep ache that had you groaning despite the emotions bubbling up within you. 

“Damn you Fred,” Was all you had to say before everyone else around you was clearing out. For a split second you felt guilt when you realized your parents as well as the Weasleys had come to stand beside you as you healed. 

“I’ve come back from the brink of death and that’s what you have to say to me?” He teased but his voice was torn to shreds and you had the terrible image in your mind of him screaming for help until he lost consciousness. The blood drained from your face. 

Fred seemed to take notice as he shuffled out of his bed that was right next to yours. He paused at the edge, fumbling for the crutches that were at his bedside. It felt like years the time it took for him to fall into the chair nearest you, his hand stretching for yours. 

You moved pathetically against the sheets but in your weakened state you couldn’t grasp his hand. “Freddie,” You croaked, eyes filling with tears in frustration. You’d thought him dead and now you couldn’t even move a damn blanket to touch him, to make sure this wasn’t a dream. 

“I’m here,” He reassured, moving the sheets on your side gently until your hand was free and you could tangle your fingers with his non-broken hand. 

“How?” 

“I’ve been telling you for years now, you’re my tether. Just when I thought I was going to cross over, I heard you. All the promises we made, and all the chaos we have yet to make, all the things I haven’t said,” Fred’s bottom lip trembled as he brushed his thumb over your scabbed knuckles. You were faintly aware of a needle in your forearm, attached to an IV but all that mattered was the warmth you felt from Fred. 

“You could break them all and I’d still be counting my lucky stars that you’re here,” You cried, falling into a coughing fit. Fred was quick to press a still cold glass of water into your hands and help you sit up even from his place on his chair. 

“I’m not going anywhere,” He promised, hand remaining at the back of your neck as he settled you against your pillows. That genuine not-smile was back and you chewed on your lip to keep from crying again. You still weren’t sure he was here so any reminder that it was really him had you at a breaking point. 

“Can you make me one more promise then?” You caught his gaze but found you couldn’t hold it, the intensity making your stomach swoop and your heart pound against your rattled ribcage. 

Fred had yet to move, his hand steady behind you and his face close. Your noses were nearly touching as he said, “Anything.” 

“Don’t scare me like that ever again,” 

You chanced one more look at him, eyes wide and pleading. You were going to make him promise on everything in him but the rest of your words were lost when you stumbled over the loud adoration in his eyes. As if on autopilot, you removed your hand from his to brush your fingertips against a gash on his cheek. 

“Never again,” He whispered, frozen in place. He didn’t dare move when you let your movements wander over his lips, taking your time before you let your hand fall against the junction of where his shoulder met his neck. Beneath the collar of the hospital gown you could see garish bruising that only served as another reminder you’d almost lost him. 

That was enough to remind you that there was much unsaid between you and the man you loved. You could feel his shaky breath, his hand squeezing yours just enough that you felt the reassuring pressure. When you took your third look at those eyes, you knew. 

You moved at the same time, in tune to one another in a way you always have been. It was with a sigh that your lips met, frightened and curious and wonderful. You were careful of his head would as you played with the hair at the back of his neck and he made sure not to move you anymore than tilting your head to slot your lips against his at a better angle. 

Fred pulled away when his smile dared to take over his face but you couldn’t complain about the loss when you could feel his pulse beating strongly against your fingers, his chest moving steadily with life. 

“I’m just as tied to you as you are to me,” You laughed softly, in disbelief. 

Fred looked surprised for all but a second before he was placing his lips against yours, cautious but deliriously happy. 

Waves swayed with the moon, plants flourished with water, and you were never far from Fred Weasley. Each were tethered to their counterpart and nothing could change it. 

[ssahoodrathotchner]

Pictures of You

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader

Summary: you lose your memories of the last few years, including the ones of your relationship with Aaron. The rest of the team thinks it’s hilarious.

Word Count: 5.3k

Warnings: memory loss, swearing, some angst, hospital, talk of injuries, team shenanigans and fluff

A/N: okay this was a lot of fun to write bc soft!Hotch rights !! also really wanted to make the team play a larger role in a fic so here we go :)

Masterlist

---

You wake in a hospital bed, Morgan by your side, and a godawful pounding in your cloudy head. With a groan, you try to raise one of your hands to cover your eyes as Morgan’s head shoots up to stare at you with a relieved smile.

“Hey,” he says, catching your hand before you can lift it higher, “Don’t do that. You had a nasty fall, Princess.”

Satisfied that you won’t make any more moves towards your head, he sits back down at your side.

“Should I even ask how you’re doing or…” he trails off when you glare at him. “I’ll go let the team know you’re okay. Boss Man will be happy to hear you finally woke up,” and with that, Morgan is up and out of the room before you can even open your mouth because what.

Shifting around in the bed, you try to gauge just how injured you are, but the soreness in literally your entire body coupled with the haziness in your mind from the constant pain makes you conclude that you’ll leave it to the doctors to tell you what’s wrong. Sighing, you gently tilt your head to the side and observe the various beeping monitors.

The door opens and as you turn to see who it is, your mouth opens in disbelief. There’s no way. There’s absolutely no fucking way. This is fake. This is a dream. Your stomach simultaneously drops and fills with dread. How is this possible?

“You’re dead. You’re dead. We buried you,” you say in a rush, as none other than Emily fucking Prentiss stops by the side of your bed, looking at you confusedly. “Does this mean I’m dead? Are you a ghost?” you wonder out loud, and Emily looks behind her as the rest of the team, except Hotch, file in behind her, seemingly fine with her sudden appearance.

“How are you here, why are you here, what happened? You died. You’re supposed to be dead which means I’m probably dead,” you continue to ramble, frantically looking from at each member of your team and then back to Emily.

“What? Y/N, you aren’t dead. Just like I’m not dead,” she says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“But you are,” you say shakily, chest tightening as your breaths become shorter and shorter.

“Y/N…” she says slowly, softly, “I faked my death four years ago.”

And with that, your ears rush and your mind goes blank. No no no no no no we buried her six months ago, she’s dead. You don’t notice the rest of the team trading glances around you as the world you thought you knew shatters and reforms in your mind.

“No,” you croak, throat suddenly constricting, but Emily only looks at you worriedly, Reid slipping out the door behind her.

“Y/N, can you take some deep breaths for me?” and your head turns to find JJ at your other side, hand on your shoulder. “Let’s breathe, you can do this,” she says, taking exaggerated breaths to demonstrate, smiling gently as you cooperate.

Reid enters, now, followed by a doctor who, immediately upon reaching your side, proceeds to shine a light in your eyes and asks you to complete all sorts of short tests while the team looks on.

“Now, Agent Y/L/N, Dr. Reid informed me that you seem to be having some memory issues, which is normal,” the doctor assures you, “especially with the head trauma you endured. So, tell me what you can remember and we’ll go from there,” he says with a helpful smile.

Fuck. What do you remember?

“Well…” you trail off, trying to pin-point an exact moment. “I remember Emily—Agent Prentiss’—funeral because it was six months ago, but apparently—” your eyes slide over the rest of the team, “—apparently, it was more like four years ago,” you finish slowly.

“And that’s as recent as you can remember?” the doctor pushes. You nod your head. “Well, Agent Y/L/N, it seems that you have post-traumatic retrograde amnesia, which isn’t a surprise, as I said before. My guess is that it’s temporary, and that you’ll recover your memories in time.”

“Any ideas how long?” Emily speaks up, carefully looking at your face.

“With cases such as these, there isn’t a definite timeline or standard procedure for memory recovery,” the doctor explains. “It may help to look at photos or videos and tell stories to try and help Agent Y/L/N heal quicker, but the brain is tricky,” and with that wonderful statement, the doctor turns and exits, leaving you and your team staring at each other, processing the fact that you don’t know when you’ll get your memories of the last four freakin’ years back.

“So, from the research I’ve done, it seems that—” Reid is cut off by the door flying open and Aaron Hotchner, your Unit Chief, bursting into the room with a concerned look on his face wearing a hoodie and jeans.

Morgan tries to grab his shoulder, but Hotch shakes him off as he walks right up to your bedside and grabs your hand. Holy shit. Heat rises to your cheeks instantly and you think your heart might have actually skipped a beat but, you can’t help it, you’ve had a crush on Hotch for ages and he’s holding your hand. But you don’t remember a time when Hotch was so forward in showing concern for one of his agents.

“I’m so sorry I wasn’t here when you woke up, Sweetheart—” you’re pretty sure you’re dreaming because Hotch has never called you Sweetheart. Ever. You’ve also never seen him in anything other than a suit. “—Jessica called because Jack has the flu and then he wanted to talk to me and—”

“Hotch!” Morgan all but yells, interrupting Hotch’s update on Jack, as you stare pointedly at his hand, still holding yours, trying to control the redness growing steadily stronger in your cheeks. What the hell.

“Hotch,” Morgan states, softer this time, “The last thing Y/L/N remembers clearly is Prentiss’ funeral.”

You look up with a weak approximation of a smile, and watch Hotch’s face shift as he comprehends what Morgan said.

“That was years ago,” he says slowly, face hardening into a look you’ve seen too many times when he tries to separate himself from the information he’s received.

Looking down at you, you can’t tell what he’s thinking, so you divert your eyes to his hand in yours. Once he notices this, he gently lets go and you know it’s silly, but you almost reach out for it again. Who knows the next time Hotch will want to hold your hand?

“So you don’t…” he doesn’t finish his question, which leaves you even more confused. Don’t what…?

“Umm. If it’s happened in the last four-ish years, then umm… Then I probably don’t remember it,” you say quietly, apologetically. “Sir,” you add on quickly, not wanting to forgo formalities even if your memory isn’t what it’s supposed to be.

However, instead of nodding, like you thought he would, Aaron Hotchner looks sad which confuses you even more.

“Aaron,” Rossi begins slowly, “the doctor said that talking about what’s happened since then may help Y/N’s memory come back.” Hotch looks up, almost relieved. “So why don’t you tell her something that’s happened since Prentiss’ funeral.”

And with that, Hotch takes a breath before reaching across your body to your other hand and holding it up. Not quite sure what’s happening, you allow him to hold your left hand up in your line of vision and that’s when you notice a fucking wedding ring. On your hand. Which Hotch is holding.

“I’m married?” you screech, looking at the team, who are now all trying not to laugh for some reason. “Who am I married to? Holy shit, what?” you continue looking around. Morgan and Prentiss look like they’ll break into outright laughter any minute. What’s going on?

Looking helplessly to Hotch, who is suspiciously quiet, you don’t have to repeat your question before he is carefully letting go of your left hand to hold his own up next to it and since when did Hotch wear a wedding band? Until you notice the striking similarities between the ring on your hand, and the one on your boss. What the actual fuck.

“We’re married?” you say, whipping your head to the side—ouch—to stare at Hotch, who is looking a little more amused than worried. “What? When? I just…” you can’t even finish your train of thought because your head is spinning so fast.

“Is it really that much of a surprise, Princess?” Derek chimes in. “I mean, you guys have been in love with each other forever,” and with that, he and Prentiss dissolve into a fit of laughter, which they try to smother, but you’re too busy taking in this very new and very interesting life development.

At some point in the last couple years, you married Hotch. Which means he knows you like him. And he likes you. You dated Hotch and now you’re fucking married. And you can’t remember any of it.

“…I don’t remember it…” you say sadly, softly and the laughter ceases.

Running a hand through his hair, Hotch takes a step back and shrugs, a small, reassuring smile on his face.

“We’ll figure it out, Sweetheart—” your stomach erupts into butterflies, “—we always do.”

With a sigh, you sink back into the pillows on your bed and stare at the ceiling, head throbbing worse than before thanks to all the new information.

“I just…” you pause to think about your current dilemma. “I just don’t know where to start with all this…Getting my memory back,” you look to Hotch and then the team, unsure of what to do.

“Well, the doctor did say that photos and videos might help. I’d be willing to recount every conversation we’ve had since Emily’s funeral, if you want, including the ones that you weren’t a part of, but were about you or a case,” Reid offers with a grin, and your heart melts.

Slowly shaking your head, you answer, “Thanks but maybe later, Spence. I’m still stuck on the whole I’m-married-to-my-boss thing right now.”

“Trust me Princess,” Derek laughs “I’m pretty sure all of us could tell you about how everything went down like a damn movie.”

“Yeah…” JJ continues with a fond shake of her head, “You guys weren’t very subtle about it.”

Sneaking a look out of the corner of your eye, you catch Hotch blushing and staring down at his shoes before he also sneaks a look at you, meeting your eyes.

“See?” Derek’s voice breaks your gaze. “This is exactly what I was talking about. You guys weren’t subtle and still aren’t,” rolling his eyes, he laughs a little and you can’t help but smile.

“At least they’re married this time around,” Rossi supplies. “No more ‘secret’ glances and yearning,” he says with such contempt you can’t help but laugh as Hotch—Aaron? — lets out a small chuckle of his own.

“Now I just need to remember how we got here,” you say, feeling a little more at ease. Slowly, you reach for Hotch’s left hand, studying the ring the matches your own. “Remember us,” you continue, just to him, and the smile that overtakes his face is the best thing you’ve seen since waking up.

“You weren’t wrong, Morgan,” comes Emily’s voice from the end of your bed. “This is just like a movie. Ugh. But don’t worry, Y/N, we’ll help you sort this out.”

“And I know just the woman for the job,” Morgan adds with a mischievous smirk which immediately makes you wonder about whatever it is he has planned.

“Now as much as I’d love to watch the two lovebirds gaze into each other’s eyes, I actually have plans,” Rossi states, looking down at his watch. “So, I’ll be back tomorrow. Have a good night, Y/N,” he says before waving to the rest of the team and leaving.

The rest of the team makes their own excuses to leave, and you can’t help but feel like Morgan and Prentiss have concocted some sort of scheme to “help” you get your memories back.

Running a hand over your face, you sigh. What now? The sound of someone clearing their throat makes you look up and realize that Hotch hadn’t left with the others, but was instead standing near the foot of your bed, looking somewhat anxious.

“I ummm… I was planning on spending the night here to make sure you were okay, but umm…” he trails off, unsure.

“But since I have no memory of us being together you think it’s weird…?” you ask gently.

“Yeah,” he answers in a sigh. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable by being here, especially because I know how frustrating and confusing this must be for you…”

“Hotch,” you start, but he can’t hide his wince when you call him that. “Aaron,” you try again. “Yes, this is incredibly confusing and frustrating because Emily should be dead and I didn’t think you had feelings for me at all,” you pause and see him smile, just a bit, “But I’d really like it if you stayed here. With me. Because—” you take a deep breath. “—Because you make me feel safe, Aaron, and I need that right now,” you say gently, not quite sure where the confidence came from, but Aaron’s eyes soften and his smile grows bigger as his shoulders drop in relief. Worth it.

“Then I’ll stay,” he says, and you can’t help the heat that once again rises in your cheeks as he continues to look at you.

You guys are married, dammit. Pull it together.

Averting your gaze, you turn your attention to getting more comfortable in your bed and decide to fuss with the placement of your pillows because damn was your back starting to hurt, but Aaron beats you to it. Within ten seconds of arranging the pillows behind you, he has them perfect.

“How…?” you start to question, but he just raises his eyebrows. “Right. Married,” you say with a shake of your head.

Aaron finally sits in the chair next to your bed and reaches, almost absentmindedly, for your hand before catching himself and stilling. You can see the fight in his mind—he wants to comfort you and himself, but with your memory, he doesn’t quite know where your boundaries are. Taking pity on him, you grab his hand yourself, weaving your fingers together so he knows it was on purpose. Okay so you really just wanted to hold his hand again, but you’re married! You’re allowed. He takes a deep breath and leans back in the chair, turning his head to really look at you.

“How’s your head?” he asks, brow furrowed in what you’ve come to understand is genuine concern.

You pause and consider for a moment.

“Not terrible, but not great,” you say slowly. “It’s like there’s a fog in my mind that I can’t see through. I know I’m missing stuff, but I just don’t know what.”

Aaron gently squeezes your hand, but doesn’t speak yet.

“I want to know what brought Emily back, how we happened, what it was that gave me this fucking injury, I just…” with an exasperated huff, you collect yourself. “I just want to know.”

“Well, Emily should be the one to tell you her part of the story, and as for us,” he gives you a smile “it’s a longer answer, at least for me, so that will have to wait—Sorry, Sweetheart,” he says when you pout. “However, I can tell you about what landed you in the hospital. How does that sound?”

“It’s a start,” you tease, and yes Aaron smiles wider and rolls his eyes.

“We were chasing an unsub, and Garcia had tracked him to a warehouse not too far from Quantico. We went there and—” his voice wavers. You squeeze his hand. “—and the unsub had set explosives around the perimeter of the building. I guess you got too close to him when trying to talk him down and he triggered the whole set.” Aaron sighs, and his eyes are glazed over like he’s reliving this—which he probably is—and there’s nothing you can really do besides let him take his time.

“You weren’t right by any of them, but you were thrown back and had hit the ground before I could even yell at you to stop—not that you would have listened,” he says pointedly with a watery laugh. “You just laid there, Morgan and I carried you over to the medics as soon as the dust settled and they took you away as we cleared the rest of the scene.”

“And the unsub?”

“He didn’t survive the explosion. As soon as we figured that out, we left it to the local PD and crime scene techs.” He looks at you softly. “We came straight here after that.”

“How long was I out before today,” you ask lightly, curiously.

“Three days. Dave had to convince me to go home and shower on the second day.” He looks down before sneaking a sideways glance at you.

“Well I’m glad he did,” you tease, scrunching your nose.

“And I’m glad you’re awake, Sweetheart,” he replies, squeezing your hand.

You laugh and look away before mumbling, “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to that.”

“Get used to what?” he waits a second. “Sweetheart?” Motherfucker. He knows what he’s doing.

“That! I woke up convinced you didn’t have feelings for me at all,” you say with a glare, “and now I know we’re married and you keep being so nice and understanding and calling me Sweetheart and I just don’t know how to deal with all of this!” you finish in a huff.

“I just feel bad that I can’t remember this, us” you add, gesturing between the two of you. “I’m trying and there’s just—” you make a frustrated noise and flop back to stare at the ceiling. “And my head still kind of hurts,” you add softly, almost pouting.

“Oh, Sweetheart,” Aaron whispers. He clears his throat before continuing. “You’ll get your memories back,” he leans forward to stroke some hair off your forehead. “And until then, you know the team and I will do what we can to catch you up and help you remember.”

You push your head further into his hand with a sigh. He runs his hand through your hair a few times before pulling back and you almost whine. You yawn instead. Settling down, you tug the blanket up higher across your chest and turn to face Aaron as he also gets comfortable. He turns on the small television in your room and at some point, you fall asleep holding his hand.

---

You wake to the sound of the door opening, followed by the unmistakable click-clack of heels worn by none other than Penelope Garcia.  

“Rise and shine! Time to regain your memory, lovely Y/N,” she sings, coming to a stop by the side of your bed as you roll over with a yawn.

“Pen—” you groan. “Let me sleep. Please.”

“Oh no, my little profiler. Do you have your memory back?” You shake your head. “Then we need to work on that! And don’t you dare tell me no; my wonderful Derek Morgan and I were up all night making this for you,”

You raise your eyebrows.

“Sadly, not like that. But, we compiled a presentation-slash-video montage for you about what you’ve missed!”

That catches your attention.

“Wha--? How? Penelope where did the footage come from?” you ask, more awake now.

“Well, I may or may not have used security cam footage for a lot of it, but that’s neither here nor there, so, without further ado, I present to you: your life for the past four-ish years!” and with that, she somehow connects her tablet to the TV and you see a picture of the whole team; Penelope then produces a remote from the depths of her purse and then proceeds to the next slide.

Which is a photo of you. And Aaron. Standing by the coffee machine in the office and smiling at each other, clearly unaware that the moment was being documented. The image is embellished with what must be close to fifty moving, sparkly hearts, obviously done by Garcia.

“First thing’s first,” she starts with a flourish. “Your husband!” and as if on cue, Aaron walks into the room, cup of coffee in hand. Much to your surprise, Aaron just rounds your bed to sit in the same chair you assume he fell asleep in, watching the screen.

“What is happening,” you say softly to yourself, looking from Aaron to Garcia and back.

“The doctor said photos and videos might help restore your memory, so who better to put something together than Garcia?” Hotch answers dryly, a small smile flashing across his face. “The rest of the team should be here shortly,” he says directly to Garcia.

“Oh good. I always work better with an audience,” she replies as you continue to process just what the hell is happening since you woke up approximately five minutes ago.

Within a few minutes, your hospital room is overrun with the rest of the team. Sitting, standing, leaning wherever they can find the space to view Penelope’s presentation with you in the middle of it all.

“Don’t you people have jobs?” you grumble.

“C’mon, Princess. Who better to help you remember the last few years than us?” Derek says with a cheeky grin that makes you roll your eyes.

You turn your gaze to Aaron and find that he’s already looking at you in concern.

“If you really don’t want all of us here we can leave,” he says just loud enough for you to hear.

“I just…” you take a moment to try and collect your thoughts. “I guess I just don’t know how to feel about all of this, but you’re all here so— “

“So here we go!” Penelope cheerfully finishes your sentence before turning back to the screen. “As I was saying before, part one of Operation Get Y/N’s Memories Back is all about—drumroll please—our very own Unit Chief, a.k.a. Hotch, a.k.a. loving husband to our very own Agent Y/L/N.”

With a shake of your head, purposefully ignoring the way Derek and Emily are whooping and whistling, you settle in and gesture for Penelope to continue. God, let’s hope this works.

---

It doesn’t work.

Fuck.

Three almost four hours later and nothing has changed for you. However, it’s a lovely opportunity for some team bonding and creating new memories, but you’re still disappointed. It’s not for lack of trying, though. Penelope did a wonderful job of pulling together a presentation-slash-video montage of your life, complete with titles such as ‘Your lovely husband,’ ‘The Miraculous Life, Death, and Subsequent Resurrection of Emily Prentiss,’ and even ‘Badass BAU Babies,’ which was a collection of team photos and news clips of cases you guys had closed in the past few years.

The whole team had gotten a kick out of each section, especially the last one, as Penelope had spared no one in her quest to help your memory; ugly selfies sent in the BAU group chat, embarrassing footage of you tripping up (and down) the stairs to the bullpen—courtesy of the security cameras, Reid doing physics magic and narrowly missing Rossi’s coffee cup, it was all there. But nothing worked, there was no magical ah ha moment where everything came rushing back. If anything, it really was like watching a movie; it didn’t feel like you were the one is all of these clips and photos. Not even Reid’s commentary made you feel any closer than before to recovering your memories.

It wasn’t all bad, though. Penelope had a veritable stockpile of photos of you and Aaron, ranging from the office, to cases, to the occasional night out with the team. Your engagement announcement, wedding photos, freakin’ everything on the two of you and yet, nothing seemed to make a difference to your brain.

The photo on the screen was one of you and Aaron on a case. You were tucked under his arm, snowflakes visible in your hair and his as you look up and laugh at something he said while he just smiles gently down at you. Penelope had put hearts over both your eyes.

“Actual heart eyes! I had to! You guys are so cute!” she basically squealed when the photo came up.

“What did I tell you,” Rossi said teasingly, “Yearning.”

Prentiss and Morgan hadn’t stopped laughing for this entire segment, with JJ and Reid occasionally joining in if there was something exceptionally ridiculous Penelope had included, like fucking heart eyes.

A hand covering your own makes you realize you had spaced out, and you look down to see that it’s Aaron’s hand, wedding band catching the light.

“Anything, Sweetheart?” he asks in a low voice, carefully watching your face.

You shake your head. “It’s like it’s someone else’s life, but I know it’s mine; you’ve told me it’s mine, there’s photographic evidence that it’s mine!” you say in a huff. “It just doesn’t feel like it’s mine,” you whisper, voice breaking at the end. Tears gather in your eyes and you bite your lip to stop it from shaking as you desperately try and control your overwhelming emotions. You can hear the team in the background, strategizing new ways to help you, but Aaron’s face hovers in front of your own, drawing your attention.

“It’s okay,” he says lightly, stroking your cheek with his thumb.

“No, it’s not,” you insist as a few tears make their way down your face. “It’s not, Aaron. What if this is it? What if I just don’t get my memories back?”

Letting out a long sigh, Aaron raises your hand to his lips and kisses your palm before folding your hand into his.

“You will. I know you will,” he says with such conviction you might just believe him if it weren’t for the way he rapidly blinks to keep his own tears at bay.

“Yeah, Princess.” Morgan chimes in from somewhere across the room. “We’ll figure this out, you know we will.”

And with that, you see something click into place in Aaron’s eyes and suddenly, he’s looking at you in such a way that your heart picks up—thanks, heart monitor.

“Aaron…?” you ask cautiously.

“Princess,” he says it so simply, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. You only have time to raise an eyebrow at him before—

Oh.

Kissing Aaron Hotchner is something you could definitely get used to. His hand comes up to cradle your face as he gently moves his lips against yours. You sigh and can feel his smile against your mouth before he’s tugging your face closer, tilting your head just so and—

There.

It’s like opening a window to let in a breeze. Soft and sure, filling the space in a way that’s all-encompassing without being suffocating.

Like snowflakes falling and settling on his black jacket, like Aaron down on one knee sliding your engagement ring on your finger while you smile so much it feels like your face will break. It’s leaving cups of coffee on his desk during late nights in the office. It’s playing soccer with Jack as Aaron smiles and cheers both of you on. It’s being in bed late at night, falling asleep in the comfort provided by the man you love. Your wedding vows, promising to love him forever.

And you know.

With a gasp, you pull Aaron closer, kiss him deeper, harder, moving your lips more frantically against his. I remember I remember I remember and you think he gets it because he pulls back and looks at you with so much hope it almost breaks your heart.

“When I said I’d love you forever, Aaron Hotchner, I meant it.”

And his face breaks into the biggest smile you’ve ever seen as he laughs in disbelief before capturing your lips with his again, returning the urgency you had kissed him with just moments ago.

Someone clears their throat and you pull apart, smiles obvious on both your faces as you turn to the team who are looking somewhat confused.

“Would you mind enlightening us as to why you two are suddenly acting like teenagers?” Rossi asks, eyebrows raised.

“Well,” Aaron starts, grinning in your direction, “It would seem that— “

“Nuh uh. No way,” Derek interrupts him. “Are you seriously about to say that you kissed her and she magically remembered?”

You can’t help but laugh at his disbelief because what the hell and nod, unable to speak through the giddiness overtaking your body. You remember.

“Ohmygod! You guys!!” Penelope squeals before launching herself into your arms for a hug which she promptly pulls Aaron into as well; he doesn’t protest.

“What made you do that, Hotch?” Reid asks curiously once Penelope has let you and Aaron go. “Did you know it would work?”

“Princess,” Aaron says with a nod towards Morgan. “In Jack’s storybooks, a kiss always wakes the Princess so she and her prince can live happily ever after.”

Okay that’s adorable and you can’t help but aww with the rest of the team at Aaron’s confession.

“Happily ever after, huh?” you say, tugging on his hand. “Who knew you were such a sap, Hotchner?”

Rolling his eyes, Aaron just smiles. “Wasn’t it obvious from Garcia’s presentation? I’ve been in love with you forever, Sweetheart. And besides, it worked, didn’t it?” he says with a smug smile. 

You pull him down for a short kiss before moving back just enough to murmur “My Prince Charming.”

“I can’t believe you guys,” you turn to see Morgan shaking his head. “A literal fuckin’ fairytale,” and then he’s laughing and the whole team, you and Aaron included, are laughing with him because yeah this is pretty surreal.

“I can’t believe you thought I was a ghost!” Emily says once the laughter has died down, her arms crossed in mock-anger.

“Can you blame me?” you retort. “The last thing I remember was burying you and suddenly you’re here? Nope. No way. Ghost. Only explanation.”

“I have to say, Y/L/N, I’m glad you’re back, if only to stop Aaron’s sad puppy-dog eyes every time you called him ‘Hotch,’” Rossi shakes his head. “I don’t know how much more yearning I could take.”

“Hey! Be nice,” JJ admonishes, swatting Rossi’s shoulder. “I think it’s sweet.”

“Yeah guys,” you echo. “Be nice! Don’t think I forgot you two,” you say, leveling Morgan and Prentiss with glares, “and all your laughter when I couldn’t remember that my husband and I were married!”

“Oh c’mon, Princess,” Morgan groans. “It was pretty funny. You were trying so hard not to look completely in love with your husband.”

“In my defense,” you start, “I didn’t know that you guys already knew how much I love Aaron, so excuse me for trying to hide my love,” you say with a sniff.

“Well, it was pretty obvious. Whenever you looked at him or he grabbed your hand, the heart monitor would register an increase in your heart rate by—” Reid starts to ramble but your laughter cuts him off.

“I get it, I get it,” you continue through your laughter. “I’m very in love with Aaron, even when I think it’s a secret, but as Penelope’s presentation so eloquently demonstrated, I’m not subtle and neither is he.”

Aaron leans over to kiss your cheek as the rest of the team continues into a conversation about Penelope’s presentation and how the hell she collected all those photos and videos in one day.

With the attention no longer on you—for now—you smile at Aaron, who smiles right back. He slumps back in his chair with a sigh, and you can’t help but pull him back closer to you.

“I love you,” you say kissing the back of his hand.

“I love you more, Sweetheart,” he replies softly.

Yeah, this is happily ever after.

[extravaguk]

sweets&ink

part of my opposites attract! series. 

ksj / knj / myg / jhs / pjm / kth 

pairing: tattooartist&tattoed!jungkook x baker!reader

summary: jungkook was everything you feared but exactly what you needed to heal your broken heart.

wordcount: 5k

genre: fluff - angst - smut (s2l!au)

rated: m (?

warnings: some cursing, mentions of past abusive/toxic relationships/trauma that might be triggering, a lil of making love at the end. it’s overall just suuper fluffy, trust me. jungkook is a s i m p. we love that for him! slow burrrnnnn.  

Jungkook knows it was love at first sight, but doesn's know how to really explain it.

He knew from the moment he entered the small shop, pastel green walls welcoming him  replete of sugary treats, a sweet and heavenly scent engulfing him as soon as he stepped a foot inside.  With a new found sense of calmness and serenity within he hadn't experienced in a long time, he searched for deserts of his liking, mouth watering while assessing the many options of baked goods available and bright colored frostings stealing his attention.

"Hi. How may I help you?"

Then he looked up and found you. It wasn't easy to appreciate your whole appearence with the counter hiding the lower half of your body, but it was enough for Jungkook to think to himself that he had never seen a prettier girl in hiis entire life. And that's when he knew it. Any type of movement in his surroundings coming to a halt, his heart skipping a beat, his favourite song playing inside his head. And that particular sensation. The same one that had made him feel so at ease since he found your bakery. For a moment he thought his doe eyes might have actually turned into heart eyes until you raised your eyebrows, a concerned expression replacing your previous warm smile. 

Blinking his eyes and clearing his throat, coming down from cloud nine into the real world, he stuttered his order as best as he coud manage, heart pounding inside his chest and later feeling mortified for not being able to pronounce "gingernap cookies" correctly. 

At first he kind of hated Seokjin for blackmailing him into going to his favourite bakery to buy his favourite cookies (Jungkook really should've known better than accidentally spill ink all over Jin's new script), but when he comes back home with a goofy smile on his face and dreams of your face, he makes sure to text him he'll go get his cookies anytime he wants.

But Jungkook is a masochist apparently. 

Because a week after your first encounter he realizes that not being able to get his mind off a girl he's literally only seen once in his entire life is not exactly normal. Not for anyone, but especially not for him. Realizes that the way he embarrassed himself in front of you and probably looked like a bluberring mess (or a creepy weirdo who had never interacted with any woman before) is not reason enough to not keep wanting to try again. And the way you just giggled at him and simply shook your head as you wrapped the ginger cookies he had asked for in a pretty packaging has kept him aching for more. 

So he comes once a week now. Still as nervous as the first day, but content to see that your face seems to light up at the sight of him stepping through the door the same way his does. He likes to see you in your cute pastel dresses, and if he didn't know better he'd think you were just trying to keep up with the bakery's aesthetic. But the more he frequents your shop, the more he realizes you're exactly like the treats you bake. He likes how your vividly honeyed persona contrasts with his darker and reserved one. Likes how you're all colors of the rainbow and he's just a scale of greys.

They are small interactions. Just courtesy and cordial exchange of words everytime he visits. He doesn't even know your name and you don't even know his, but sometimes he asks how was your weekend and sometimes you ask how many people had he inked that week. Sometimes he tells you how pretty you look, and sometimes you blush in response. Sometimes you add an extra macaron in his order and sometimes he debates on whether or not he should write down his number on a napkin and slide in right on the countertop before he waves goodbye. 

And although Jungkook has never been one to shy away from women, he feels a certain way he can't exactly pinpoint. A way that makes his confidence falter and leaves him feeling like a little kid who's afraid to confess to the girl he likes. Because as cliché as it sounds, you're not like any other girls he's ever met. You don't feel like any other girl he's ever met. Not the older than him, tattoed and pierced type of girl he's accustomed to; not the type of girl that's addicted to trouble and believe him (maybe even hoped) to be something he's not. So it takes a while for him to summon up enough bravery and determination. It takes weeks of pining and overthinking, and a single push from Yoongi ('stop being a fucking pussy and just do it') to ask you to have coffee with him.

"I... I'm sorry. I can't."

And it only takes those words leaving your mouth to shatter his heart into pieces. 

 It's fine though, he told you and himself. He wasn't going to be one of those guys who believed the 'friendzone' was an actual thing and tried his best to not make you feel uncomfortable, really tried his best to erase the guilt across your face as you rejected him.  So he scratched the back of his head and mustered up a big smile before leaving the shop with a bag full of cupcakes and an unsettled stomach.

Letting out a deep breath you didn't even know you were containing, you observe as the handsome stranger exits the shop. Running a hand through your hair before gripping the counter with your hands, you try to steady the heavy throbbing insde your chest. 

The boy in question had been unknowingly tormenting you and flooding your mind with thoughts of him for almost two months now. That day you first had spotted him eyeing the desserts in display in amazement and then you in the very same way. It was sudden and precipitated, but it had almost made your head spin, something you hadn't felt in a long time unexplainable tugging at your insides. 

You had kept your cool as best as you could, as best as you had taught yourself in the past. Wrapped those cookies he had asked and then waved goodbye, hoping under your breath he wouldn't come back but silently wishind he would. But then he did. He came back once. And then again. And again, and before you realized he had become a frequent costumer. Trying whatever treats you'd recommended him, creating small talk, sending friendly smiles here and then. 

You had learned to expect him at the very same time, the very same day of the week; had learned to manage the fluttering in your tummy and the reddish warmth spreading through your cheeks whenever the eye contact was prolongued. Everything was innocent, it was brief and, most importanly, it never went beyond, even if sometimes you hoped it did.

However, after all these years, there was still something you hadn't learned to control yet. And as he spoke, clearly nervous, hesitant and clearly out of his comfort zone, wondering out loud if he could ever treat you to a coffee sometime, your body shut down. The fondness and excitement you had been harboring over the last few weeks quickly replaced by that which made you want to recoil, made you want to back to your well to let its darkness and loneliness envelop you.

That horrible and ugly wave of crippling fear and axiety all mixed together; a little monster that you had successfully concealed, now displaying its ears in warning and the same smile that had been haunting you for years, now advising you, reminding you and most of all, threatening you, to go back to your own comfort zone. And so, powerless, there was nothing else you could really to but to comply, muttering an apology and a rejection that probably pained you more than it pained the boy in front of you.

You knew you did the right thing, but it definitely didn't feel like it. 

Especially a week later, as you expected his arrival- as always, ready with a tray full of fresh baked scones you had particularly made just for him, but were left severely disappointed when time passed and he was nowhere to be seen. Or two weeks later, after spending an extra hour making cake pops that you had specifically designed with him in mind (covered in dark chocolate and white sprinkles), only to realize it was closing time and that he never even showed up.

 To say you were bummed was an understatement. You knew you always looked forward to him coming in every week to grace your day with a smile and a polite talk, but you didn't come to terms with how much you would miss it until now. So three weeks later, you still bake with him in mind, trying not to lose hope but still chastising yourself for not being brave enough and accepting his offer. It was just a coffee date, for God's sake, not a marriage proposal! Trying to busy your mind with work and customers coming in and out, even if your eyes dart in anticipation everytime you hear the door swinging. 

When hours pass and the sun hides to make room for the moon and stars into the sky, you look at the clock and, with a defeated sigh, finish cleaning and tidying around the shop. But before you can gather your things, the door swings open and there stands the stranger you had been praying to see again. 

"Am I too late?" he asks, and you don't exactly know but can tell his words hold a double meaning. You smile, a genuine smile, because he looks bashful with a hand scratching the back of his head like he had done the last time you saw him, and because there's a warm sensation spreading through your chest, like your heart is smiling for you. 

"I was about to close, but I can make an exception." you accomplish to say and surprisingly don't sound as nervous as you feel. He mirrors your smile as he walks closer to the counter. "So, what would you like?" 

That takes him by surprise because he really had nothing in mind when he decided to come here and now he feels like an idiot. 

"Uh, um... I would like... maybe cupcakes?" he sounds like an idiot too. But you nod and smile at him and start gathering his cupcakes into a polka dot cardboard box.

"You missed the cake pops I made last week." you say, trying to keep your voice in check as he hands you his credit car. "I think you would've liked them."

"Ah, sorry... Work has been really hectic." and even if it's true, it's also true the fact that he chickened out and was frightened to face you again. He likes how even when you're alluding to his absence, there's not a malicious tone behind your words. He likes how you're still smiling at him even after he's been acting like a pussy for two weeks. But that's why he's here. "I also would like to apologize for... you know. I didn't-...If I made you feel uncomfortable, I'm really sorry."

With your eyebrows raised, your smile dissipates. "What? No, you didn't do anything wrong, really. It's not- It's not that. I just...can't." you stumble through words, trying to explain how much you actually wanted to go to that coffee date, to get to know his name and more of himself, but unavailable to. You can feel it again. The same anguish that always seem to creep up on you and numbs you altogheter. But him, worriedly sensing your distress, waves his hands in front of him.

"No, no. It's fine, you don't have to explain anything! It's alright!" his smile seems to soothe you and you return his smile in gratitude. "Anyways, I'll... I'll get going. See you next week?"

You nod, anticipation already making its way into you. "See you next week." and then he takes the box filled with cupcakes and says goodbye. Before he can open the door though, a tingle of impulsivity and fearlesness makes you say:

"I'm _____, by the way."

He pauses, clearly taken aback.

"Jungkook."

Jungkook hasn't stopped repeating your name in his head ever since you gave it to him, grinning like a fool and thinking about how good it sounds next to his. He hasn't stopped frequenting your bakery either and has lost count on how much money he's spent on muffins and whatever else you sell. He doesn't care though. All he cares about is how much likes seeing you even if it's only for fifteen minutes in your floral dresses, and as long as you keep looking like you're glad to see him every time, then he's fine. 

He's more than fine. He feels amazing. Sings tunes while he works on customers, feels his creativity flowing more than ever and he feels whole. It still baffles him how a minimun interaction with you once a week can make him feel on top of the world. 

He's got a bouquet of white and pink lillies next time he visits, so sappy and romantic he doesn't even recognize himself. He doesn't tell you he googled their meaning and his mind instantly associated them with you. Purity is exactly what he thinks of you and admiration is exactly how he feels about you. Hands it to you and the surprised look on your face and the spreading of pink all over your cheeks makes his heart burst. You thank him and he tells you he didn't know what your favourite flower is. You answer it's carnations. He writes it down somewhere in his mind, for next time. And then you're the one surprising him.

"Would you like to have coffee sometime?" 

There's uncertainty in your voice that doesn't go unnoticed by him, and for a moment he thinks he's dreaming. He's cool with what he's got right now with you, but you repeating his words back to him makes him feel euphoric, like he can't believe it. He knows he looks dumb, the way he's looking at you. 

Completely dumbfounded. He stutters like the first same he met you, but he says yes (omits the part where he tells you he could almost die). You exchange number in each other's phones with shaky hands, set the day and hour, and then wave each other goodbye. 

You instantly regret it as you watch him leave. Keep regretting it the following days. That voice in your head telling you 'it'll happen again', telling you fairytales didn't exist and this most likely wasn't one, even if it felt like it was, suffocating you like it had done many times before. Screwing with your head until you consider canceling. 

But you power through it, like you had taught yourself to do. This time it's harder though. Because this time there's a new romantic interest at hand, one that's making you feel things you buried a long time ago and made you swear to yourself you'd be smarter and stronger than any man could. 

It's Hoseok's encouraging words that help ease the panic. It was also Hoseok's words who encouraged you to ask Jungkook out. Said you deserved something good for once and that you couldn't close yourself to love your entire life. 

Thought it was time for you to write a new chapter after a rather sad one. 

So on Saturday, Jungkook insists on picking you up and it already feels like too much for you. Especially when he shows up with a bouquet of carnations in his hand and a smile that takes your breath away and definitely doesn't help to ease your nerves. 

Takes him by surprised how pretty you look.  maybe because it's the first time he's seen you out of your shop and even though you're still loyal to your clothing style, he still fumbles with his words like an idiot to try to express how beautiful you look. Seeing he's as much of a mess as you settles you a little bit. Then he takes you to a cute café that almost makes you laugh, because seeing him, inked arms and piercings and a closet that consisted mainly of black oversized t-shirts and pants in such a bright environment reminds you of the first time he entered your shop. 

You're surprised to see how well the conversation rolls, how easy it is to talk to him beyond the usual brief interactions you two have. You like how he makes you laugh and how he seems to love hearing it. You like how his attention is solely focused on you, even if his gaze on yours sometimes feels too intense and his overall character intimidates you. You like how soft spoken he is, how careful he is with words and the sound of his voice. Sounds like a lullaby without melody. 

And when the date is over, he drives you home, walks you to your door and respectfully wishes you a good night. You kiss him on the cheek spontaniously before hiding the embarrassment on your face and stepping inside your home. You miss the way he stays at your doorstep for a whole minute before getting in his car and driving himself home. You also miss how peacefully he sleeps that night, dreaming of cupcakes and you. You don't miss the heart emoji he sends you before going to bed, making yours quiver.

You're glad you didn't cancel, and now you're sure you don't regret it at all

It goes on. The dates, getting to know each other more and more, Jungkook's visits to your shop and spending way too much money on sweets and carnations, the butterflies in your stomach everytime he's near and the birth of something inside of you that's starting to make you feel alive after feeling dead for so long. 

It's still new, still wholesome, moves in slow motion. You're glad Jungkook doesn't push, doesn't ask for anything, never demands more than a kiss on the cheek everytime he drops you off. He is nothing like he looks like, you realized that right away.

But with every brand new beginning that requires feelings like this, especially as unique and exceptional as the ones Jungkook is causing within you, comes the evil monster trying to scare you off, to make you back off and remind you that not everything that shines is gold. The voice inside your head that keeps bewitching you back into a dark room, reminder in your head everytime that one day Jungkook will want more. He'll want more and you might not be ready to give it to him. 

A voice that keeps resonating and has kept you unmoving for the past few years and now is making you feel more frightened than ever. 

You've been more quite than usual and Jungkook can tell something is not quite right. It's a friday night, and after having dinner that he insisted on paying, he decided this time to drive you away, to a secluded space somewhere where you both can appreciate the city lights on the hood of his car. He can tell, so he asks you, but you give a vague answer. He wants to ask again, but he's afraid of overstepping your boundaries. He wants to get to know you in every level, want's to scratch the surface until he can see everything. He wants to learn you inch by inch. Wants to love every part you bare to him, because he's sure he will. 

"My ex partner was abusive."

You finally say with a voice that's not entirely yours, and it doesn't feel real. Doesn't feel real to say out loud and letting the words sink in. It's taken all this time of excusing behaviors that were not excusable, trying to make light of a situation that wasn't and blaming yourself for things that you were not to blame for. Jungkook stays silent, but his attention immediately focused on you as soon as you spoke. Eyes slightly wide and mouth starting to open as if to speak himself. But you go on.

"Not physically." you swallow a lump in your throat. "Sometimes he would throw things at me, but they didn't always land. Or... one time he pushed me while we were arguing. Never raised his hand at me though. It was mostly psychological and emotional. He was extremely jealous and possesive. Didn't like me hanging with my friends, would never bring me to hang out with him and his friends. Though I' was cheating on him with anyone. The cashier at the supermarket, a randome dude on the street that simply looked at me. Anyone." tears prickle your eyes, but you'd learned to hold them back.

"He would always get mad at me. Would already wake up angry and take it out on me. Without reason. Would always blame me for everything. He would get mad, insult me, call me any terrible name you can imagine, tell me I wasn't worth shit. That I wasn’t worth living.Then he would punch the wall, or break whatever was in sight. Everytime, I told him I was terrified of him. Would cry in a corner and beg him to stop. Sometimes he would just laugh at me for it." you sniff, still looking straight at the city lights, and trying to keep a composed tone throughout. You had grown up a lot since then, and you knew Jungkook deserved to know you. He deserved to understand. 

"Then he would calm down, apologize while he cried and promised he loved me and would change. He never did. It took me a long time to finally walk away, but the demons still haunt me to this day. You," you choke, because comparing your ex to the guy currently sitting next to you was like day and night, like heaven and hell. "You make me feel things I've never felt before. I always felt like asking for respect was asking for too much. And then here you come, like a knight on shining armour ready to sweep me off my feet. It felt like a dream. Still does..."

Jungkook's hands are balled into tight fists, his whole body rigid as he listened to you. His own heart breaking, like he could feel himself inside you and experiencing your own heartbreak. His blood's boiling, jaw so tight and eyes blinking. Pushing down his anger, because this is about you not him, he lets his body relax before sliding your hand in yours. 

"I like you so much,_____, it literally kills me at night how much. Not as much as hearing all of this, though. From the moment I saw you, I was whipped. I wanted and still want to give everything I can to see that smile of yours. It's me the one who can't believe you're paying me any attention at all." you're still not looking at him, but he still sighs in relief when your lips quirk up. "Just having you here next to me and letting me take you out on dates is more than enough for me. Whatever you give me, whatever your terms are, I'm content with that. You're healing, and while you do, I'll be right here."

You look at him now, not bothering to hide the tears streaming down your face anymore.

"What if I never heal completely?" there's fear in your voice as your eyes meet his, but just the dark brown in his gaze help you feel secure, less worried about the future and more serene about the now.

"I'll still be here."

It doesn't take long for you to call it love.  

Not when Jungkook keeps proving himself to be so different and so special. Not when his gestures never cease to make you feel so special, so worthy of recieving and sharing love. Because Jungkook makes you feel invincible, makes you feel one in a million. 

"What to you even see in me? We're like, polar opposites." you ask him one day. And it's true, you are. So different from each other, yet the same. He laughs in disbelief, shaking his head, still holding your hand in your doorstep about to kiss your cheek goodnight. 

"I see everything." he simply says, eyes boring into yours in adoration. "I see the sun, and the moon, the stars, the entire galaxy when I'm with you." your heart clenches as he interlaces his fingers with yours. "Before I met you, I felt like I was blind. Like I was lost and was looking for an exit that I couldn't find. But then I saw you, in your little bakery, with your cute dresses and those eyes, and it was like my eyes opened for the first time. Everything made sense. Everything has been filled with so many colors ever sinc-" 

You shut him with your lips on top of his, emotions pulling at your heartstrings the same way you pull him down by the neck. He takes a few seconds to respond, but then this hands are dropping to your waist, their warmth immediately spreading through your skin against the chilly night.

"Would you like to come in?" you whisper, breath fanning over his lips. He nods, hurriedly, and he knows he looks like a damn idiot for the hundredth time, but he doesn't care. Because coming in doesn't only mean stepping in your home. Coming in means you're letting him in. Means you trust him, means you want him there, means you're allowing him inside your heart. 

Again, Jungkook doesn't expect nor demands much. Your presence is everything he needs. You kissing him is like winning the lottery to him. Like completing a marathon, like climbing the Everest, like getting his first tattoo. Kissing you is sweet, fills him with something strong that makes him feel on drugs, like nothing matters but you and him. Like nothing has ever mattered to neither of you. 

So it's you who leads him to your room, it's you who straddles his thighs and pushes his hair back as his hands carress your sides. It's nothing fiery. It's slow, tentative, and full of care. Of lingering touches, low sighs against each other's mouths. 

It's you who reaches inside his shirt, hand sneaking past the hem of the fabric and trembling cold fingers coming in contact with firm skin. It's also you who asks for more with a small roll of your hips. It's you who asks him to take his shirt off. It's him who complies. Still tells you you don't have to, you tell him you want to. 

It's you who asks him to touch you. He's scared like he's never been, because you're you, and you're so perfect and everything he's ever wanted and suddenly he's afraid of you're too good for him. Jungkook only wants to make you happy, never wants to see you cry, just wants to treat you the way you deserve. 

It's you who begs.

It's you who tells him you need him. Need him take care of you, need him to show you much you're worth, need him to help you write a new chapter, probably even a new book where you're both the main characters and nobody else has ever existed. You say it with tears in your eyes, and he's quick to kiss them away, tongue entangling with yours. He's quick to undress you as well, with hands that still ask for permission even after you've granted it already. Hands and lips that are also quick and eager to learn your body, to find every mole in your skin as he lays you back to look at you in admiration. He keeps kissing you. From head to toe, muttering praise, making sure every 'beautiful' and 'gorgeous' and 'perfect' that leave his lips stay fire engraved in your being forever. 

He first makes you cum with careful fingers and skilled tongue, thighs wrapped aro around his head, eyes still looking for yours as his hands keep your body still and yours crumple the sheets beneath. Tells you how good you taste, how long he's been dying to have you like this. Tells you this you his favourite sight as he kisses his way up. 

You beg him again, asking him to please, please, fill you up. He groans against your mouth and he tells you again, you don't have to. He says he's happy like this. Repeats he's in no rush and just wants to please you and make you feel good. That it's about you, and will always be about you. You beg him again, and again and again, enticing him with a trail of wet kisses down his neck, up to his eralobe. You whisper there, tell him you need him to fill you with his cock so bad. His whole body goes rigid as your legs wrap around him, legs pulling him closer to where you want him, his erection grazing your entrance and his teeth nibble your lower lip. 

Jungkook doesn't move for a while, eyes closed shut, jaw clenched and head buried in your neck. He doesn't move because his mind is somewhere else keeping him stagnant, pussy wrapping around him so good and wet and tight he's about to bust. Takes a while for him to move, but when he does he makes sure to grip your thighs around him, keeping you close, never wanting to let go as he tells you you were made just for him. Just for him. Tells you how good you feel. He tells you he loves you. Kisses your lips as you sob, tears threatening to spill from your eyes. He tells you he loves you. Tells you he'll love you forever and will always keep you safe and happy. 

You're crying now, cheeks wet and he stops for a moment to look at you, concern written all over his face as his hands craddle yours, wiping the tears away with his thumbs. "We can stop, baby." You shake your head no. Pull him back into another kiss, urging him to go on. You tell him you love this, love him so much. That it's a good thing. That they are happy tears. That you've never been happier. And then his hips start moving again, your words egging him own, soft whimpers and sobs leaving each other's throats until you cum at the same time. 

He then removes himself from you, rolling onto your side but he's quick to pull your body close, arms wrapping around you and lips kissing away the wet stains on your cheeks. 

It doesn't take long for you to know Jungkook would be the healthy forever and after you had always dreamed of.

[marsbutterfly]

Hiiiii! I just binged all your writing on AO3 and I love all your work, especially the one with poor Hange hallucinating. I'm not sure if requests are open right now but if they are, I'd love to make one! I'm sorry for being hyper-specific but I just had my wisdom teeth removed, they had to hammer and drill to get one of them out that grew wrong and, I'll spare you the details but it took over an hour for the one and I'm sore and swollen to say the least and not looking forward to having to eventually eat something, and I wonder how Hange would take care of a reader that just had their wisdom teeth removed.

Please feel free to ignore this if you're not interested, and regardless thank you for your time and sorry for the wall of text! Hope you have a great day!

Note: Thank you so much anon, I appreciate your support <3 It makes me really happy! I hope you are all right now and that your mouth healed up ok. This is a mixture of a short fic and headcanons. I hope you enjoy! <3

Tooth Ache

Summary: When you get your wisdom teeth removed, Hanji tries her best to take care of you. Modern AU!

Warning: Mentions of blood.

AO3 Version! | Wattpad Version!

“Come on, baby.” Hanji says as her torso reaches over you, struggling to fasten the seatbelt. You shift your body to the left gently, trying your best to help her but the effects of the laughing gas having yet to leave your body.

All you can do is giggle, watching the messy brown hair dangling in front of you. Without realizing what’s happening, a heavy weight is lifted from your body and your lungs can expand to their full capacity once again.

You look around confused, trying to understand what just happened, only to shift your eyes to the left, watching as Hanji starts the car. The sound of the engine roaring makes your heart beat slightly faster, a hint of fear rushing through your veins.

Before any words form, a warm, gentle hand brushes against your exposed thigh softly and the feeling is enough to soothe you. 

Body resting against the car seat, you take your fingers towards your mouth, touching the area around it as you try to make sure everything is still there. The piece of gauze that sat in your mouth now lies in between your legs, a few blood splatters following closely behind.

“Hanji, did you give me cranberry juice?” You ask, not realizing what that hot liquid was. She holds in a laugh, eyes shifting from the road to you for a second as she reaches for a small pill bottle sitting in the cup holder.

“Not yet.” She replies, handing you a decently sized pill and a small, cold box of juice. “But here, why don’t you drink this?”

You grunt in annoyance but still obliged to her request, earning a bright smile in return. 

The car falls silent, only the sounds produced by the vehicle fill the void. Your eyes wander outside, green leaves dance atop of the trees while an old lady’s blonde hair flows around in the wind, reminding you of last night’s dinner.

“Can I have some noodles when we get home?” You ask with stars in your eyes, knowing that Hanji has never once denied you anything at all.

“No, love. I’m sorry.” She replies, eyes focused on the road as you enter your neighborhood. In that moment, her words felt like a knife going into your skin, destroying your heart as a consequence. 

“But…” Tears form in your eyes and your bottom lip quiver.

“It’s for your own good.” She says, right hand squeezing your thigh before you push it away and all she does in response is sigh. 

Grabbing your phone from the glove compartment, you speed dial your most recent caller. A few seconds pass before Eren answers the phone and the image that welcomes him is the desolated, groggy mess behind the screen. Tears flow down your face as you try to speak through the gauze pads in your mouth.

“Hanji won’t let me eat noodles.” You say, earning a quiet giggle out of the brunette driving the car. “All I want is to eat my noodles.”

“It’s for your own good, Y/N!” He replies, a smile on his face as he tries not to laugh. From his end, you can hear two other voices but, in your current state, you don’t realize they are coming from Mikasa and Armin.

“That's what I said.” Hanji replies, reaching for your phone. “Now hang up Y/N.”

“NO!” You scream, pressing your body against the door and moving the device barely out of her reach. “I want to show Eren my lipstick.”

“Lipstick?” The camera shifts angles and now Armin’s face fills the screen. “Uhmm… Y/N?” 

You pull your head back, fingertips gently brushing against your chapped lips until the warm liquid touches them. In response, you let out a giggle. “Oh no. I think it’s blood.”

Hanji’s laugh echoes through the car as she pulls into the driveway. Once the vehicle comes to a full stop, she places her left arm against the window, fingers pushing her glasses up as tears of laughter stream down her face. 

You shoot her a confused look, trying to understand why she’s laughing. In response, she reaches for your phone once again, finally being able to catch the device from your hands and immediately hanging up the call.

“Come on, baby.” She says, removing her seatbelt and unbuckling yours. 

You reach for the handle to open the door many times but your hand simply slips right past it. After what seemed like an entirety, you’re able to hook your hand on it and open it, little do you know Hanji is actually the one to let you out.

Your vision is fuzzy as you try to step out of the car, everything spins around and you look at the sky. A pair of sturdy hands begins to guide you towards the entrance to the house and you smile gratefully.

Hanji seats you on the couch before handing you a cold compress. You stare at it for a few seconds, wondering what it is that she expects you to do with it. 

She laughs and sits beside you, your knee touching hers. “Like this.”

The cold compress against your cheek feels godly and it relieves some of the pain you are in. You instinctively let out a moan.

“I’m gonna go get your meds and be right back, ok?” She says while getting up.

“Otay.” You reply, humming to a random song you heard on the radio early that day. Unknowing to you, Hanji’s eyes glow as they watch you from behind the couch, her heart beating slightly faster as her cheeks blush.

A few minutes go by and when she returns, you are still moving your head and feet to the melody you sing. 

She hands you a cup of cold water and you happily take the pills from her hand. 

Your eyelids become heavy and you rest your head on her shoulder, feeling as her hand goes through your hair gently. You smile through the bloody gauze pads and she giggles.

“Hanji…” You whisper, calling her close to you with your finger and she leans towards you, “I want noodles.”

“Not this again!”

Headcanons 

Hanji is not a good driver so it takes her a couple of days to convince you to let her drive you to the appointment instead of asking Armin or Mikasa to do it.

She nearly sleeps for too long the day of your procedure because she spent the night before worried sick, even if you’re just getting your wisdom teeth out.

Once it’s done, she has to control herself and not give in to your every request like she usually does. No solid food, no milkshakes, no moving more than you have to.

Hanji sets alarms for every 8 hours so you won’t miss a single dose of your pain medicine and, if the pain is too bad, she gives you an extra pill. Not only that, she constantly reminds you of when to change the gauze pads.

You always have fresh ice to apply to your cheeks and Hanji kisses them every chance she gets.

She can’t cook for shit, she tries but when the house ends up smelling like burned soup, she immediately calls Levi, who shows up with at least 3 days worth of food. For you and for Hanji.

When the anesthesia wears off, she pulls up her phone and shows you the embarrassing videos she took while you were high. Of you singing terribly to whatever is playing on the radio, your conspiracy theories on how your dentist was an alien or simply videos of you begging her to give you solid food.

She brushes your teeth for you when you can’t, always making sure to go around the extraction sites and scrubbing your tongue.

The day after the surgery, she rinses your mouth out with warm water and salt, even if you can do it yourself she keeps saying she’ll do it better than you, so you simply let her.

Hanji always makes sure your head is propped up while you’re lying down, even when you beg her to let you put your head down, she won’t let you. Instead, she sits behind you and props your head on her chest. You can hear her heartbeat so you can’t complain.

Once you are healed, she buys you an insane amount of junk food and you suggest going on a picnic with Levi and Erwin to eat it all. She agrees and immediately picks up the phone as you run upstairs to take some medicine so you won’t throw it all up.

[fanfic-collection]

Whumptober - Loki x Reader: 1 Threats

Threats: TW – suicidal ideation, self-harm

Hopefully Loki can provide comfort for other people

-

They started as just threats. Threats in your mind. Just threats.

You wouldn’t actually follow through on them.

And then the burning started. The burning in your wrists, the one that longed for the cold metal on flesh. How you would look at knives and think, just maybe, maybe you could do a knick here or there. But they were only threats. You wouldn’t actually do it. Would you?

It’s not like you really wanted to end it all, to throw away everything you had, did you?

You stood out on your balcony overlooking the city, that familiar burning in your wrists teasing you. Casting a glance over your shoulder in the direction of the kitchen, you sighed. Would you tonight? It’s not like you would have to that deep, maybe just to ease the burning, just feel a little pain. No one would really understand, and it’s not like you wanted to end it all, just… just feel something.

There was a flutter of wings, heavy cloth, then solid boots on the balcony beside you and you jumped. Spinning around you looked to the side and saw a tall man in strange leather and metal clothes leaning against the balcony walls casually picking at his hand. He wasn’t looking at you; his long dark hair cast dark shadows on his face.

“You know, there are still those who listen to pleas for help, those who still hear the cries of the broken.” The man looked up and you pulled back in shock by his vivid green eyes. As if reading your mind he added, “Don’t worry, I’m not here to hurt you, don’t scream. Though I imagine you wouldn’t care if I killed you, would you?” He cocked his head.

You trembled, wrapping your arms around you. “Who are you, how did you get up here?” You stammered and looked over the railing down the long, long descent to the street below.

“Magic, my dear.” The man bowed low. A gleam of green light appeared in his hand and a red rose remained after the light vanished. He handed it to you.

You took the rose and winced, a thorn pricking your finger. Frowning, you watched the pinprick of blood roll down your finger.

The man hummed, staring at it, then slowly fixated his gaze on you, “As for your other question, I am Loki of Asgard.”

“Loki.” You breathed, trailing off and studying the man’s face. Yet he was so much more than a man, he was a god. His raven black hair slicked back pristinely, and his tall sharp cheekbones that could cut glass, and his pale skin that glowed in the moonlight and – what were you thinking, you had other things to focus on.

You shook your head.

Loki nodded, “Ah, yes. The reason I’m here.”

You fiddled with the rose, mindful of any other thorns, but there seemed to be just the one. As though he had left one thorn on purpose.

Loki’s eyes flickered towards the kitchen, no doubt in the same direction yours had.

“You know about the burning, don’t you?” You whispered feebly.

Loki nodded soberly, holding up his hand and creating a small flame. “I do not share this information lightly, but I am the rightful prince of Jotunheim as well. I am not just Asgardian.”

You quirked your head.

Loki held his hand to his mouth and carefully breathed on it. Slowly, it turned a dark shade of blue. He held up his regular hand and a small flame appeared, moving closer to the blue hand, the skin started to blister and melt. Loki stared at it passively, almost bored as the blue skin turned an orangey-pink.

Eventually he moved the flame away and stopped, waving his hand with green magic this time and seeming to heal it back to normalcy.

“No one would ever know.” He murmured.

You stared at him in horror reaching for his burnt hand and grasping it with both of yours. The rose fell to the floor but you did not care, nor did you care how cold to the touch his hand was.

“Loki! Please, no!”

“There was a long time after I found out what I was that perhaps I could rid myself of it. That deep down, deep enough, I would not be the beast. But I am not here for my problems.”

You felt tears streaming down your face, shaking in horror. “Loki, no, that’s awful, please don’t!”

With his free hand, Loki reached up and stroked your cheek, “And you little one? What of you?”

You faltered, “What?”

“Can I not be saddened by the threats that loom in your mind?”

“I- oh…” You still held his hand, gripping it tight to your chest.

“I am not here to guilt you, but there are people you humans can seek, yes?”

You nodded slowly.

Loki kept your hands gently and wrapped both his hands around yours, dragging you back inside to sit on your couch. He wrapped his arm around your shoulder as the two of you sat down and gently rubbed your back. “You are not alone, little one.”

You felt more tears well up. “It really feels like it.”

“I know.”

“Especially lately.”

Loki nodded, resting his chin on your head, “I know.”

“It’s so hard.” You gasped softly.

Loki turned you towards him and wiped away your tears, hugging you tight, “Darling, I will be with you every step of the way. Find one of those humans, and know that each night I will be here to check on you, yes?”

“You promise?”

“I promise.”

[lepusrufus]

To bargain for immortality pt.3

As it turns out, poison did not kill her. Not by a long shot. Not if the numerous tests with different kinds of poisons were to be believed.

Nicole was currently bent over the sink placed in the corner of Miranda's lab, her assistant hovering behind her with a timer in hand. What was it this time? Hemlock? Belladonna?

She stopped caring when a new wave of blood carrying the replaced tissue from internal damage came rising in her esophagus. With a disgusting gag, it came splashing onto the white porcelain, now stained and coated in crimson multiple times over. She coughed, trying not to let any of the burning mixture remain stagnant in her throat, and focused on the feeling of her body healing itself. It felt, for lack of a better word, like static coursing through her nerves and organs. After that too was gone, and the only thing that remained was the nauseating coppery taste in her mouth, she raised a shaky hand, too tired to speak up.

"Seven minutes, thirty four seconds," Emma announced.

Mother Miranda noted it down, fingers typing quickly over the keyboard.

It was a miracle that Nicole was still able to stand, although leaning a good part of her body weight on the sink thankfully secured to the wall did help. She took a few deep breaths, doing her best to not sound too croaky when she spoke.

"Can I see the results once we're done?"

She could keep track of everything herself of course, but it got difficult when her body was fighting toxins meant to shut it down. And she'd be lying if she said that she wasn't dying of curiosity.

"It's none of your concern," Miranda replied coldly.

That got a scowl to appear on thin blood stained lips, partially hidden by her hunched position. "I stood here quietly while you shoved pill after pill made from every poisonous plant you could get your hands on down my throat. At least grant me the grace of knowing my own body's limitations."

Her reply was little more than a tongue click. She couldn't help a scoff when Miranda simply ignored her request and told her assistant to continue with the next test on their list. Emma picked up one of the numerous pill bottles lined on her employer's desk and came over to Nicole, who unceremoniously grabbed one pill and swallowed it before looking at the label. Cyanide.

Oh for fuck's sake.

Her body's reaction was immediate, heart starting to beat painfully quick while her head started to spin. It was nauseating, the ache seeming to flood her chest and going up her spine in a searing migraine. Not to mention the deep breaths that didn't seem deep enough, as air itself seemed choking, the oxygen not quite reaching where it should. Mild panic started to settle in when black splotches began to cloud her vision and the tingling sensation seemed to battle with the pain for dominance. Before she knew it, her shaky legs gave out under her and the white ceiling of the lab blurred out of focus.

---

She woke up with a start, the bluish lights a painful glare to her eyes. The sound of ticking stopped and Nicole realized it was Emma's timer. She looked down at herself, haphazardly placed on a bed and then at Miranda, typing down a result the ringing in her ears hadn't allowed her to hear. With a few shakes of her head to try and chase the fog in her brain, Nicole finally croaked out: "What the hell happened?"

"The cyanide was damaging cells and keeping them from taking in any oxygen at a slightly faster rate than those cells were getting replaced. Which caused you to lose consciousness."

Miranda's tone was just as cold and clinical as ever, but a slight smirk tugged at her lips when she continued, the excited scientists buried under the mask of a goddess showing a crumb of itself.

"Although I'm quite certain we solved the mystery behind the accelerated heart rate. All previous tests show that it takes no longer than a few minutes to recover, while this took over twenty five."

Nicole was still fighting some mild dizziness, but she put all the focus on Miranda's words.

"We'll have to rerun the tests under anesthesia, but for now it's safe to assume the healing slows down while unconscious."

She acknowledged the theory with an oh. She wasn't really capable of much conversation at the moment, but she let the thought be metaphorically chewed in her brain. That made sense. If healing was slower after passing out, then her body had a damn good reason to keep her awake, hence the unnaturally high heart rate.

A slow shuddring sigh was let out when Miranda asked her assistant to prepare the anesthetic, laying back down. At least she wouldn't be awake for this one.

It took around double the normal dose to finally get her unconscious. She kept her eyes glued to the needle embedded in her arm until her vision was starting to fail her, the surrounding room becoming nothing more than dark blurs and vague beeping sounds.

People do not dream under anesthesia.

Nicole knew that of course. But as the lab blurred into odd shapes and more or less familiar places, there wasn't really a better word to describe it. Perhaps a result, she would later muse, of her overactive brain, fighting for consciousness at any given moment as it now had an instinctual need to stay awake.

That need manifested itself in the vague image of one of the castle's hallways. It was in an old wing, not frequently used by many other than the cleaning staff. She was walking along the wall, using it to compensate for her wobbly legs, and looked around for something. What exactly, was beyond her comprehension at the moment, but that didn't stop her from stumbling inside each room on her path, looking around the bright and beautifully decorated space, only to exit and continue down the hallway.

Something. Something ugh.

Nicole tried not to lean on the wall too much when she got to the golden frame of a painting, not wanting to risk damaging it. Slowly walking around, she threw a glance at the canvas when she was fully in front of it. She frowned.

It was the familiar portrait of all three sisters, dressed in period appropriate clothing and hair up into small curls. Their eyes, painted in such a way that they seemed to follow any onlookers around, greeted her with soft expressions. Some details seemed different though. They were small, and it took a bit of effort to notice how the brushstrokes seemed to have shifted ever so slightly in places. A familiar rose tattoo was present, albeit quite faint, on each of their foreheads, and their features seemed a little less soft and more akin to how Alcina would paint them. Nicole stopped to look at Cassandra's hand for a little longer, as if something was supposed to have changed there too. But before she had time to dwell on that, the realization that the painting should not be there dawned on her. Why would Alcina move it? And to a near abandoned wing of the castle no less. If she remembered correctly, that portrait had been at the main entrance for decades.

Nevermind that, she could just ask Alcina herself if they crossed paths. She kept walking down the hallway, trying to ignore the nagging feeling at the back of her mind that something was off. Off, like the slightly misplaced furniture, or the lack of certain decorations, or antique objects that she knew for a fact were on display on a completely different wing. No, Nicole kept looking through every room she came across, in search of something her foggy mind couldn't quite grasp the memory of.

She finally reached one of the more populated areas, and although still not fully able to grasp her surroundings and walk around without any support, a shiver still ran down her spine. The off-putting feeling turned to dread with the realization that she was completely alone. No maid or other staff member has crossed paths with her in what felt like an eternity. No sound could be heard aside from her own breathing and a faint beeping coming from outside. At that moment, Nicole longed for the sound of giggling or the shuffling of a broom, hell even the sound of lycans howling outside. Anything.

By that point, shuffling against the wall felt more of a psychological need than a physical one. There was a fear that accompanied anyone when you found yourself in a place that seemed so unlike its normal self, and Nicole tried to make herself smaller than she already was in the eventuality that something would pounce out from the silence and tear her to shreds.

She found herself traversing another corridor littered with numerous doors to guest bedrooms or simply storage rooms. Each was opened one by one, whatever laid behind it inspected, and then shut again. Rinse and repeat. Repeat until Nicole found herself in front of an oddly familiar door. It had nothing special, the crest and color exactly the same as the ones she had left behind, but its position seemed to tug at her memories.

The door was pushed open, a slight creak accompanying the movement, and Nicole found herself in a well lit office. It was obviously a rarely used one, the shelves only holding a small number of oddly organized files and boxes, while the chair was tucked under a large desk. The plush carpet underfoot caught her attention, beautiful black, white and golden motifs waved around each other in an intricate pattern. She walked across it, up to the desk and crouched down to run her fingers on the old worn wood of small drawers. The iron handles used to open them seemed to be gone from all but the topmost one, which she opened slowly.

Oh.

The drawer was empty save for two familiar objects, a pair of matching rings with minuscule branches in flower engraved on them. She picked them both up but almost dropped them back when a set of hurried footsteps sliced through the dead silence just outside the room.

There was no time to scramble for a hiding spot, especially not with how her head started to spin the moment she stood up again. All she could do was put the hand that wasn't holding the rings on the desk to support herself and watch as the door swung open.

A sigh of relief flew past cracked lips at the sight of confused golden eyes framed by dark locks of hair. Cassandra was standing at the entrance, head cocked slightly to the side.

"Did you lose it again?"

There was a hint of annoyance in her tone, but it was mostly drowned out by an amused chuckle as she walked up to her.

"No, I-..." Did I? "I'm sorry."

Cassandra simply took one of the bands and wordlessly slid it on Nicole's ring finger, gesture that was imitated in turn.

"Why are they here?" Nicole's question was barely a whisper, either due to the dizziness she felt or the cemetery-like silence that almost demanded not to be disturbed. "I know I instructed the staff to bring mine to my room if they find it."

"Oh it wasn't any of the staff members," Cassandra replied matter of factly, even waving a hand to dismiss the apparently absurd idea.

"Then who?"

"I don't know."

Nicole frowned. She pinched the bridge of her nose trying to chase away the eerie feeling that seemed to have made its roots deep inside her mind. Cassandra's voice seemed off, and that beeping from earlier seemed to close in ever so slightly.

"Why here?" She repeated.

Her wife only shrugged and looked around the room, taking her time with the reply.

"Isn't this where we first saw each other?"

Right. That's why the office was so familiar. The memory of Lady Dimitrescu, so beyond intimidating at the time, sitting in the chair and interviewing her for a maid's position came flooding her foggy brain. Then the giggles and the rather dramatic entry and the small bickering.

"Are you waking up?"

If Cassandra wasn't so close to her, she would've thought a third person had spoken. Her wife's voice seemed off before, but now it didn't even sound like her own. Familiar, yes, but the regal icy tone belonged to someone else.

Nicole tried to instinctively put some space between them, only for Cassandra's expression to twist with concern, furrowed brows over soft golden, always so uncharacteristically soft when pointed at her. Cassandra opened her mouth to speak again, but the beeping came in louder, almost as if making its way from her throat with the sole purpose of attempting to bust her eardrums.

The room seemed to rapidly bleed out of focus, details replaced by black dots and blurry lines. Cassandra's shape slowly morphed, her beautiful black dress leaving way to a plain lab coat and golden eyes turning into icy green, ever calculating and scrutinizing. Incessant beeps from the cardiac monitor brought her back to consciousness more rudely than she would've liked.

Nicole shook her head slightly, trying to chase away the last effects of anesthesia. Her body seemed eager to oblige, quickly trying to wake up and be back on her feet. Not that she had any intention of actually getting up, but soon enough, she was looking around the space and all the pristine equipment held within. Emma was busy arranging vials and pill bottles inside a cabinet while Miranda was by the bed typing away, nails annoyingly loud on the keyboard. She shook her head once again, and looked to the opposite wall, where a clock was ticking. It was almost 11 p.m. and Nicole let out a soft groan thinking about how she'd been under anesthesia for about three hours and how her family was probably waiting for her to get back.

She laid her head on the uncomfortable pillow while waiting for the goddess wannabe to be done with her observations on her current lab rat, which meant Nicole, and finally dismiss her.

It took a moment to realize that Miranda had turned towards her and pushed her laptop close to the side of the desk, screen facing Nicole. After receiving a confused look, the woman rolled her eyes as if she were a teacher explaining basic maths for the hundredth time.

"You wanted to see the results."

Nicole's confused expression did not change, though now it was more directed towards the suspicious willingness to give what she asked for. Nonetheless she scooted to the side of the bed, letting her legs dangle over the edge, and she narrowed her eyes at the file on the screen.

---

Date: 23rd April 2012

Subject: Nicole [REDACTED] Dimitrescu

Mutation experiments - 2 (Regeneration - 2)

Resistance and healing time to various poisonous plants (in the form of highly concentrated pills or injectable) and other toxins. First number refers to the healing time while conscious and the second while unconscious.

Belladonna (Atropa belladonna) - 2'13" // 6'30"

Rosary pea (Abrus precatorius) - 2'20" // 7'02"

Crowbane (Cicuta virosa) - 2'40" // 7'12"

Wolfsbane (Aconitum lycoctonum) - 3'30" // 8'11"

Hemlock (Conium maculatum) - 3'18" // 8'28"

Oleander (Nerium oleander) - 3'55" // 10'17"

Ricin (Ricinus communis) - 5'58" // 16'19"

Arsenic, 100mg - 7'34" // 21'38"

Cyanide, 50mg - / // 26'53"

[roger-that-cap]

right where you left me

summary: this is the fourth prompt of @caplanbuckybarnes ‘s summary challenge! this idea kind of went a little crazy on my part, but the prompt is: remember when you said you’d marry me? today’s our wedding day and you’re not here to see it. 

warnings: y’all, i really said that i didn’t write angst and then made cardigan, and then this after one serious talk with @teenwonder - yeah, so this is angst? i wrote this while extremely vulnerable so this is very messy- deepest apologies

note: yes, the title is a taylor swift song. it is a must listen if you haven’t heard it, please!

word count: this is literally a baby, the shortest thing i’ve ever written- 1.4k

also guys, i got to 300 followers sometime last night- thank you!! i’m so glad that other people are enjoying my stuff, it’s such a great feeling.

If you had known that one person wasn’t coming back after retrieving the soul stone, you would have gone with Natasha instead of letting Clint go, and you would have forced her to let it be you. At least, that was your main thought for weeks and weeks, until the hole in your heart grew bigger and the rock on your finger grew almost too heavy to carry. Then, after your anger at her for leaving you in the dark and alone faded, you realized that it was just sadness. Nothing but. And for a while, it seemed to be going on a steady incline, and nothing was even close to getting better. 

You woke up every morning in emotional pain. Every morning, the right side of the bed was cold. Every morning, there was a lack of eyes on your face, and of feather light touches going down your back. There were no whispered Russian words or sweet nothings spoken in English. It was just you and no one else, and you could have never imagined that peace and quiet could have ever been so destructive. You would never be over the fact that it seemed like everyone had gotten their loved ones back, clicked right back into place like they never left to begin with, but you were stuck. Stuck in time, stuck in emotions, stuck with your body still aging but your heart never moving on. You were on a spinning platform, watching everyone grow old and renewing old vows and having kids, and you couldn’t get off. You would be there for the rest of your life, right where she left you. And then, that was when you took your original thought back. 

You would have never been able to leave her in the amount of sadness that she left you. 

You knew that she was always self-sacrificing, no matter how much she liked to pretend that she wasn’t the sort of team player that the world needed. It showed in the way she spoke about certain topics, the way she always secretly cared for the underdog, how she always stood up for recruits trying to prove themselves,  and even how she always watched out for the little guy and stuck her neck out for the people she knew needed a little more help than others. Hell, she met you by sticking her neck out for a stranger. You were fighting a man inches taller than you who had a knife swinging at you so wildly that you were sure that he was actually going to get you with his manic jabs. She came flying in out of nowhere without a sound like some sort of battle angel, and before you even realized who she was, she stepped in, took a shallow stab for you, and then dropped him so quickly that you were scared he was dead. 

  She sported that scar for the rest of her life, and at first, it brought shame to you. It made you feel guilty; knowing that your weakness caused another person to wear a scar on their body. Especially her and her body, because she was flawless. Because as hard as she seemed, she was beautiful inside and out, and she didn’t deserve to have any scar of any kind. As your love grew on, things changed, and that godforsaken scar became the flame to your hovering moth. Your fingers always managed to find it, even over her civilian clothes or tactical suit, and your lips always brushed over it when the lights were out and the air was thin between the two of you, when all there was was you and her and the candles that burned on the other side of the room. 

Now, you couldn’t imagine not wanting to see that scar. All you wanted was to trace it with your fingers even though you knew every single puckered spot that hadn’t healed correctly, and every curve of the scar itself. You couldn’t think of a more peaceful scene than placing light kisses on it and then looking her in the eyes, watching her smile that pretty little smile she did every time, the one that said that she would jump in front of the knife a thousand times over again. 

 So, yeah, you knew that she was self sacrificing. But you would have never thought that she would leave you in shambles. And shambles was what you were in as you sat in the apartment, the one that you used to share that you had nearly cleared out with the help of a pitying Sam and Maria Hill, in your beautiful white gown that you were so certain matched the one that Natasha had picked for herself. 

You still hadn’t seen it. 

  You were in the entire outfit. Your shoes were strapped on lazily, your veil was pushed back and crinkled, your mascara was running, but your dress was perfect. Your dress was frozen in time, stuck in a day that it had never even seen play out. Your sobs echoed louder than any laughter in the apartment had now that all the picture frames and decor had been torn down. 

  She was supposed to marry you. That was the promise that the both of you made when she got on one knee after the best day at Coney Island, surprising you only because you had a black box in your pocket, too. You were supposed to marry Natasha Romanoff, and your wedding day was here, knocking loud and proud, standing on your doorstep. It was the day, the one that was staring at you in the form of the glaring pink sharpie that you two had used to circle the day on the calendar. The calendar was the only thing still up in your apartment, as if you could ever forget the date. 

Suddenly, the dress that fit you perfectly began to feel tight. The necklace that you picked because it was elegant and light felt heavy around your neck, like a collar of sadness preparing to choke you at any second. You stood up, ready to take it all off and throw your dress and all of it off of the top of Stark fucking Tower, but then the heels that were your perfect height felt too tall. You collapsed back onto the couch, bawling your eyes out and whispering her name like a prayer over and over again, like it would bring her back to you, standing in a radiant white dresses that you could have only dreamed of. You could imagine it, her staring down at you with the soft smile she reserved for you that you missed so much, hand reaching out for yours, and you would have stretched to the point of desperation just to touch her. The door to your apartment had been unlocked and there was a quiet shuffling that signaled people coming in, but you didn’t care. 

You didn’t care that they were her friends, or yours. You didn’t care that they had somehow gotten a key to your apartment, or that they looked almost as heartbroken as you did, sitting on the floor of the apartment that used to be shared, and so full of life and love. You didn’t care that you could hardly breathe through the pain or through your chest rattling sobs, nor did you care that someone had their arms wrapped around you and was trying to break through your eternal wall of grief. 

You and your dress were stuck in time. Stuck in a place where nothing bad ever happened to you or Natasha, in a timeline where you two managed to get married. In your mind, you were looking at Natasha while you threw your bouquet at your small group of friends, wide smiles on the both of your faces as you heard their playful squeals. In reality, you were sobbing on your floor, dust collecting on you and your true emotions as pages of reality and dream world stuck to each other. She left you, and she left you with no choice but to stay in a moment that would never happen forever. You flinched when you felt the arm squeeze you gently, forcing you to look at who was truly there in the flesh in front of you. It wasn’t her. 

  But it was your wedding day. And she was never going to be there to see it. 

****

i got sad and selfishly decided to make it other people’s problems- this is the result

[alicee1]

The compass

Technoblade x GN! Reader

Warnings: battles, some slight cursing, mention of skin reforming

Word count: 2.6K 

Requested: no

Synopsis: The butcher army searches your home for the compass leading to Techno. When they find it you are put under house arrest and forced to meet up with your old companion under less than desirable conditions. 

A/n: This is basically my take on the absolutely amazing animatic ‘Hog Hunt’ by Sad-ist.Also im working on a prison break Dream x sibling! reader oneshot, possibly two shot if it ends up really long. It’s taking longer than expected so i decided to finish this first.

Rules, Masterlist

You shouldn't have stayed. You made a stupid decision and now Techno would suffer for it. If only you had followed the warning bells in your head and ran while you could.

Even now, you barely remembered why you had decided to stay. Although it didn't matter, you had made a mistake and you couldn't make up for it.

They hadn't even knocked as they bursted into your home, absolutely destroying what little decor you had sat up. Luckily all valuable items were stuffed in your ender chest, placed neatly in the corner of your room.

Chest were thrown open, the small map of the area you possessed torn off the wall to look behind it, ripping it in the process.

At first you weren't sure what exactly they were looking for. It wasn't until you heard part of the conversation between Quakity and Tubbo that you realized they knew of the compass Techno had given you.

You stood powerless as they ransacked your home, searching through your chests books thrown off the bookshelves.

Tubbo moved upstairs, you considered taking a run for it to reach the object first, but for it to be safe you'd need to get it inside your ender chest, and you knew you couldn't make that.

It be worth a try however, you dashed past Quakity up the stairs, yanking the compass from the chest by the small chain attached to it.

You had pushed him to the side, forcing him to fall against your closet and onto the ground as you hurried past.

The other members of the butcher army stood waiting for you forever, although they were unsuspecting as you leapt over them from your position on the stairs.

A painful crack resounded from your shoulder as you broke your fall harshly when you rolled over the ground.

With your other hand you threw the glowing compass to the ender chest that opened on your command. It landed against the lid, making it fall close as you looked hopefully at the green object.

Your hand cradled your shoulder as the pain shot through your body, pulling a whimper from your throat.

The adrenaline numbed the pain as your eyes were glued to the chest that seemed to fall shut in slow motion.

A satisfied sigh left your mouth, at last you had been able to protect Techno in return of all he had done for you in the past.

That was until the black Netherite axe landed in the last millimeters the chest needed to close, preventing it from closing and shutting off the access to the insides.

A small smirk tugged on Tubbo's lips as he met your eyes, seeing the desperation on your face.

Using the axe to pull the ender chest back open, he yanked out the compass, disregarding anything else you had in the chest as it fell shut.

A crack had formed in the glass, the device slowly spinning from its chain as Tubbo dangled it in front of his face, looking at Quakity who had been the last downstairs after you shoved him against the closet in your room.

"Look what I've found, big Q." His eyes met yours, sinister as he looked at you on the ground, hand cradling your hurt shoulder although your eyes didn't leave the silver casing of the compass.

It slowly spun in the air, the letters engraved on the silver backing mocking you as you read those words a final time "find your way back to me". The letters elegant and painful as the compass wasn't in your hands anymore.

You didn't have to look to see the frustration and anger on Quakity's face morph into a look of wicked triumph. The butcher army approached, each wanting to take a look to see where the red pin of the compass pointed. The glow of the device confirmed its ability's, and they held it beside a different compass to make sure it worked.

Tubbo met your eyes as he saw the compass point at a different direction than north. A frown formed on his features as he looked at you, although it didn't do anything to hide the satisfaction in his eyes. 

It was a poor play he put up despite everyone inside the room knowing better.

"Y/n, you'll be put under house arrest for refusing to comply with presidential orders." Your eyes narrowed at him, you knew that you couldn't take them on right now, not with the current state of your shoulder, or you would have. Any last ideas to stay neutral on this matter thrown out of the window.

Besides that, it wasn't even as if you could be neutral anymore, not now that they found Techno's compass in your house and how you had tried to hide it from them.

"You won't be able to keep me confined here Tubbo." Your words venomous as you spat them out, a sly smirk forming on his face as he looked to the side, facing a tall, lanky male, his form split in half between black and white.

He looked unsure as he moved, making you realize he had been the only one without a blood stained apron, the only one that hadn't touched any of your belongings and hadn't actively searched for the compass.

As he approached you, you could see an ankle monitor in his hands. You couldn't do anything but allow him to put it on, the male avoiding your furious gaze in the process as he stepped back, with that the butcher army left your ransacked home.

For the first minutes you didn't move from your position on the ground, your leg stretched out as your gaze was locked with the iron device hung from your ankle, trying to fathom what had just happened.

After a few minutes you needed to think of a plan, the device against your ankle uncomfortable as you climbed the stairs, forcing your attention to it every so often.

Your house laid in shambles around you, although you couldn't bring yourself to care, opening your window and clumsily hanging outside to access one of the birds that sat perched upon the little stick you had added to the outside of your home for it.

It smoothly hopped onto your hand, allowing you to pull it inside as it nuzzled its head onto your hand affectionately.

Allowing it to sit on your desk, you ripped a piece of parchment from the ground, dipping the quill into the remainder if the ink bottle that had spilled most of its contents onto your desk.

Your handwriting was quick and hurried as you wrote a single sentence, "The butcher army is coming right now." time didn't permit you to explain the entire situation. Rolling up the small piece of paper, you tied it to the birds leg, sending it off soon after and trusting it to reach Techno in time.

Worry ate away from your mind as you moved back to the downstairs of your house, searching the mess for any leftover potions you had, or first aid that once had been stored neatly in a chest.

Finding a regeneration potion in a corner on the ground, you quickly downed the liquid. You couldn't tell how long your shoulder would take to heal, especially not with the potion in your system, but you could only hope for the best as you created a makeshift sling for your arm for the time being.

Not bothering to reorganize what had become your home, you decided it would better to just leave, you could come back later for anything important left behind.

Despite that, you had to somewhat organize your belongings as you put together your weapons and supplies. It took longer than it should have with one arm, but you worked relentlessly, mind racing between Techno's condition and the ankle monitor that bound you to your home.

You had found your sword stuffed under your bed, your bow and arrows in the closet. The bow would be useless for now so instead you left it behind with the arrows, promising yourself that you'd return for them later.

The sun had started to set and more time than you'd like had passed. Lighting some lanterns throughout your home to provide lighting, you attempted to hack away at the iron device surrounding your ankle.

Using a pickaxe clumsily with one hand, you brought it down time and time again on the steel. There were times when you'd miss the device entirely, making the skin surrounding the device red and sensitive.

You were close to breaking the device when your attention got caught by loud noises outside, your eyes widened as you moved up the stairs, ignoring the dull ache coming from your ankle as you ran through your house.

Throwing open the doors to your small balcony, it didn't take long for you to see where the noise came from.

Your hand clasped over your mouth as your eyes widened.

The noise had come from the rattling of chains. Chains connected to metal cuffs on Techno's wrists. He stood without his cape, his crown and armor, without a weapon and chained. Quakity yanked the chain forward, and Techno's eyes met yours.

Despite the height difference as you stood on your balcony, Techno could see you perfectly well as they approached your home. His eyes widened at your scared eyes, the shocked expression on your face and the furrow of your brows.

He could see the sling that hung from your neck and hid your arm from his sight, the ankle monitor clasped around you and the red irritated skin surrounding it.

In a wave the voices blew up inside his mind, pure anger filling his veins as he realized the state you were in, what the butcher army had undoubtedly done to you.

Your name was torn from his throat, the desperation echoing throughout as he yanked on the chains connected to his cuffs.

It echoed over the street as you watched him, seeing the podium with its obvious intention behind him. Truly, he was in no place to worry about you.

Quakity couldn't control Techno, even with the chains, as he pulled himself loose, yelling out your name in attempt to reach you, making Fundy move over and grab the chain as well.

"What did they do to you?!" Despite the desperation, the need and anger that coated his voice, you couldn't find yourself able to allow words to leave your throat. Simply shaking your head hesitantly as you watched him.

Maybe, under different circumstances, you could've enjoyed hearing his voice once more.

He was torn away by Quakity and Fundy, his gaze desperate underneath the mask to see you as he twisted his head in your direction as long as he could.

When his eyes left yours, you moved inside, grabbing the pickaxe once more as you pulled your arm from the sling around your neck.

Your shoulder protested against your movements, although adrenaline coated most of the pain.

Raising the pickaxe above your head, you positioned your leg on a knocked over chair, smashing the tool down on the device with both hands.

It broke, the pickaxe scratching the skin and making a few droplets of blood trickle down your foot. You could hear Tubbo speaking outside as you pulled on your remaining boot and hurried up the stairs to grab your sword.

It didn't take long for chaos to break out on the small square, you could hear the loud shouting outside, grabbing a potion of health you only noticed now that had rolled under the table, you downed the liquid to relieve the pain of your shoulder as you unsheathed your blade.

Storming outside, it was a mess, Techno had pressed himself to the bottom side of the cage, his eyes following the descending anvil with wide eyes as you gasped involuntarily.

You had been too late.

The world seemed to slow as it hit him, a blinding light surrounding the cage for a moment as Techno jumped up, muscles and flesh reforming over his face as he arose from the death, leaping over the cage.

His eyes met yours for a mere second as you whispered wordlessly "go" knowing he lacked a weapon and what the butcher army could do if they caught him again.

The nod of his head was faint, nearly unnoticeable as he looked around for another second before jumping off the stage and running away.

You hadn't stored any armor in your home, although you didn't need it as you rushed past into the battle that was going on, swinging your sword dangerously around you to block whatever hit anyone send your way.

It hit Tubbo's shield, he send a piercing glare your way as you pulled your blade loose from the wood. He moved the shield to the side to attack you, but your reflexes, trained for the battle, were faster as you kicked him harshly backwards.

It didn't do much damage, but it forced him to stumble back and focus on finding his balance first before attacking you. It gave you the small window of time you needed to run away, following Techno's direction.

This time, you didn't need a compass to find him, simply following him where you knew he would go. It lead you to a familiar cave, although something was off, shouting could be heard from inside.

You had hurried to the entrance, hearing the beaming voice from Techno echo off the walls as he yelled.

"I have a pickaxe, and I'll put it through your fucking teeth!" His voice was booming loud as you entered, seeing the pickaxe make contact with Quakity's face as he took his second life.

His eyes met yours as you stood there, watching him as Quakity's body disappeared to respawn. He wore messy iron armor, obviously old and well used although it didn't matter. It was enough for now.

Techno could see the way your arm hung limply at your side and cloth you had used for a sling messily stuffed into a pocket. It made his embrace careful as he moved to you, his large hand brushing your hair messily out of your face as he met your eyes.

Words didn't leave his throat, but his actions said enough as he pulled you closer, allowing you to wrap your one arm around him in return.

It had been a while since you had seen each other, the feelings had been there and lingered back then, but now, pulled so close to him, you couldn't help yourself as you pressed your lips on the skin below his mask. He pulled back from the hug momentarily only to pull you in once more and pressing his lips against yours, allowing your actions to speak louder than any words would ever be able to.

From you could hear the fight go on in the distance, and he pulled away from you and moved towards his horse that stood prepared and ready to leave. He pulled you along with him as his hand clasped in yours.

He mounted his trusty companion, offering you his hand to help you up as you moved closer. You sat in front of him with his arms wrapped around your torso to hold the reins and guide the two of you back to his cabin.

[andraaste]

I am not your enemy - Lance fanfiction part 14

And finally, it’s doooone ! Forgive me for the wait 💕

Chapter 14 : I just stopped hoping for your awakening

- Andraste, is everything okay ? Nevra asked, somewhat surprised at my sudden reaction.

I was about to tell him that it was none of his business when the pain, much more throbbing, resumed again, literally cutting my breath. Without warning, panic started to take me over and it was with confusion that I stood up and dodged his piercing gaze as he remained leaning over me, being too ashamed to tell him everything that was wrong with me.

The vampire still maintained the idea of ​​helping me to stand up completely and, when his hand finally let go of my shoulder, I immediately stepped back in order to establish sufficient distance between us, which didn’t escape him.

- Yes, it's nothing, I finally replied, feigned levity.

Falling back into the void, his hand remained inert along his side as his mouth opened and closed again without any sound coming out.

A wind much colder than before I fell asleep began to blow between us, causing my hair to fly and goosebumps on my bare arms. In order to warm myself up, I put my hands on them as the chills that ran through my skin burned my back unpleasantly.

I think my head was starting to spin.

- Are you sure everything is fine ? Didn't you hurt yourself somewhere or anything ?

- No, don't worry, I replied quickly. I hadn't planned to doze off here, the ground was too hard and I must have hurt a bit, but nothing serious.

I especially didn't want Nevra to know what was happening to me, I didn't think I would be able to bear this shame again in the eyes of another person.

Much to my dismay, the vampire didn't seem convinced. He took a step in my direction, reducing the distance I had deliberately created. An eyebrow raised, his gaze fell on mine.

- Do you know that I still know you by heart ? I can see you're in pain, there's no point in trying to hide it from me.

I breathed out as much air as possible against my poor acting skills. He would never let go, I was sure.

We had left each other angry earlier, though, so why didn't he take his eyes off me right now ? I felt confused, I didn't know how to react.

What's more, I had to admit that I was seriously starting to wonder if constantly blowing hot and cold wasn’t an Eldaryan custom.

Or maybe I was drawn to complicated relationships, who knows.

- Really, it's my luck, I said ironically. So you decided that I existed in your eyes, today ?

His features imperceptibly hardened as his gaze darkened so quickly that I thought I was dreaming for a moment.

- Andraste...

- What Nevra ? Are you going to tell me to pretend nothing has happened ? I was starting to get carried away. It's all well and good to behave towards me as you see fit, but it doesn't work that way.

It was his turn to exhale for a long time. Coming even closer, he took me completely by surprise, lowering his head until he came to rest his forehead against my shoulder, his dark hair brushing my shoulder blade. I remained frozen in place, unable to make the slightest movement as his breath caressed my skin.

I could no longer get my ideas clear.

- Listen, I don't know how to behave when I see you anymore, he finally blurted out, his voice slightly muffled by his probably uncomfortable position. You were the center of my world and overnight I had to relearn how to evolve without you by my side. Everyone was only talking about your sacrifice, he almost spat, but all I wanted was for you to come back to me.

He slowly lifted his head from my shoulder and came back to fix his gaze on mine. I was hanging from his lips, totally mesmerized by the words he finally addressed to me.

- Every day, for a little over a year, I didn’t stop making this wish, however selfish. Sometimes I would spend hours watching you, convincing myself that at any moment you were going to wake up. Except that it never happened, he added quietly, as if saying it out loud could shatter the dreams of this memory of him. I ended up decreasing over time my visits to the Crystal Room, I could no longer distinguish a vague sleeping figure. So to protect myself, I think I just stopped hoping for you to wake up.

The emotion Nevra was feeling at that moment overwhelmed me. I suspected that he must have suffered from this situation, but given his behavior towards me since I woke up, I had difficulty in realizing how he felt. On the other hand, I hadn’t imagined for a single second that it could still affect him at this point now.

- I didn't know all this, Nevra, you never told me about it until now. I never imagined you could feel this, I'm so sorry...

A wistful smile appeared on his lips.

- It's in the past now, even if I don't hide from you that I thought I had serious hallucinations when I saw you again.

Following these words, the vampire leaned down until his face was only inches from mine, allowing me to admire his scarred gaze under his thick black hair.

- I was a complete idiot to you, Andraste. I only took my feelings into account regardless of yours, but it was the only way I found to protect myself again. I'm terribly sorry, you absolutely don’t deserve this indifference, he confessed to me while placing a light and icy hand on my cheek. I hope you will forgive me.

Nevra was standing close, way too close for my breathing to calm down. I swallowed the air with more and more difficulty and, seized by strong emotions, the currents of energy began to circulate again in anarchy under my skin.

The young man finally withdrew his hand before standing up to his full height. Looking up at the sky, he quickly returned to plant them in mine with deep attention.

- Night has almost fallen, we better get back to HQ, he said softly.

I nodded and turned in the direction of HQ when his hand grabbed my arm the same way it had several hours earlier.

I was taken aback to find that his face had suddenly closed completely, brows furrowed.

- You're bleeding, what's happening to you ?

I widened my eyes.

- What ?

- I can smell your blood, it's not normal, he explained to me while making me rotate back to him.

Instinctively, I slapped a hand on the small of my back as my fingers slid over the thick streaks of liquid that flowed against my top.

No.

Not now, it wasn’t possible.

Nevra only took a fraction of a second to react when he saw my fingers red with hemoglobin.

A strong concern marked the tone of his voice as he spoke again :

- What's the matter with your back ? You tell me that everything has been fine since earlier, and now you start to piss blood !

- It's nothing serious, I promise. I just have to go see Eweleïn, she'll know what to do.

I still had the words he'd had when he saw me come out of the infirmary, but I think I just had no choice but to have to go back.

- I'll take you there immediately.

Binding action to word, he grabbed me under the knees and lifted me off the ground to carry me in his arms. The journey was surprisingly short to the entrance of the large building of the HQ while the abundant loss of blood finally got the better of my lucidity.

When they reached the door of the infirmary, Nevra began to pound forcefully on the door. It opened wide, revealing an Eweleïn with suddenly astonished features.

- Nevra, what happened to her ?

The vampire quickly explained the facts to her as he laid me down on the bed. The ground was turning dangerously, or maybe it was just my head that couldn't follow.

- Turn around, the nurse ordered him with authority, before leaning over me. Andraste, we're going to have to take this garment off.

I let her withdraw my sticky top without flinching before falling into a deep sleep.

*

I blinked several times in an attempt to focus, only seeing blurry elements around me. It was far from the first time I had woken up in this bed in the past few days and it made my lips pursed in frustration.

How did I end up in the infirmary again ?

Head heavy, I struggled to sit up on the soft mattress, looking for any sign of life in the room. But no one seemed to be standing here. Swallowing my saliva with difficulty, I realized that my throat was so dry that no sound could have come out anyway immediately, I felt like I had swallowed razor blades.

Feeling obstructed, I lifted my top and found a large bandage wrapped around my chest, with red spots marking the fabric as far as I could see. I was really hoping that my miraculous healing system had reactivated, like the time my stomach wound closed on its own in a very short time, because I wasn’t going to put up with this situation much longer. Moving slightly, I noticed that the pain had practically disappeared. I lowered the garment over my wounds then stood up slowly. The world was still spinning a little too fast for my liking, but I felt fit to get out of here.

I was finishing putting on my shoes when the door finally opened, revealing a long white hair in my field of vision.

- Oh hello Andraste, you're finally awake. How do you feel ? the elf asked with a soft smile.

- Hello Ewe, I think I’m okay. I’m not feeling at my best, but I’m no longer in pain.

- Perfect, I'll give you a quick test but I think you're fit to go out.

Sitting back on the bed, I let the nurse auscultate me without batting an eyelid.

- Your back is much better, even your skin has started to reform normally. I hope this story of stuck wings will get better soon.

- Oh reassure you, I hope so too, I said in a mirthless laugh. Can I go, now ?

- Yes, just a second.

She grabbed the same jar of cream as the last time and handed it to me, a smile on her lips.

- Here, you’ll have to brush your back with this until your skin is better.

- Very good, but it may be rather complicated, since it’s not an area necessarily accessible for me...

I saw Eweleïn's smile widen even more.

- Oh, I understood that someone could take care of it for you, but if it doesn't, you just have to come see me and I'll take care of it.

I narrowed my eyes at her suspicious expression.

- What are you talking about ?

- Nothing at all, and hurry up to see me if it starts again, don't wait any longer to bleed ! Come on, go, she ordered me with a wink.

Too tired to try to understand, I opened the door to rush into the hallway. But how long had I slept, exactly ? It was still dark !

Entering the guard corridor, I walked past several doors until I reached Lance's room, just before mine. I paused for a moment, hesitating, observing thoughtfully the image of the dragon towering over it at full length. Was he busy, right now ?

Heart pounding, I was about to knock when my arm caught in the air.

I didn't have to turn around to see who it was, letting myself be completely taken in by his mere presence.

- Good evening, my little dragon, his voice whispered with an amused grin.

Light streaks of ice were already drawing a multitude of abstract shapes on my skin as my lips stretched on their own.

Giving way to a huge smile on my face.

(Chapter 15)

[cinnoasch]

Listening to the Sea (Childe x Reader)

A/N: Jeez, I meant to have this out on the first day of Childe’s rerun banner but anyways a ‘hey girlie/hey buddy’ to all the Childe havers/wanters out there

Word Count: 1275

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

The waves crashed gently onto the shore as you sleep peacefully. After a very long day of working at Bubu Pharmacy, you were tired. You were always out and about with Qiqi, picking herbs for the pharmacy’s medicine, fighting the occasional hilichurl camps you came across.

However, today seemed to make you more tired than usual. You were so tired that you didn’t even make dinner; you simply opened the door of your house and fell onto the soft comfort of your bed. 

You were sleeping so peacefully, the moon shined through your bedroom window, enveloping the room in a soft glow. However, a loud and rapid knock sounded from your front door as you open your eyes, groaning in annoyance as you get up.

You open the front door and see an all too familiar ginger haired man standing there with a grin. You immediately try to shut the door, but he holds it open with his hand.

“Hey now, is that any way to treat a friend in need?”

You glare at him, “You come here at the worst times, you know that?”

“I’d apologize for that, but I know you enjoy my company. And as much as I would love to continue our chat, I am bleeding out severely so...”

With a sigh you open the door, allowing Childe to walk into your house. He was clutching his side; his gloved hand covered in blood. Even though his hand was covering the wound, you could tell that it was quite deep.

“Alright, come this way.” You say motioning to the bathroom. “Geovishap this time?”

“Ruin Hunter.”

You turn back to look at Childe, glancing at his wound again. “Ruin Hunter? Really? Well, I guess I should consider you lucky since you seem to have only one injury.”

“Lucky, huh. That’s one way to put it.” He says as you open the door to the bathroom. Childe slips his jacket off, wincing when it touches his wound. He places the jacket next to him as he sits down on the edge of the bathtub. “I wanted to test something.”

“And that is?”

“Well, I wanted to try to hit the Ruin Hunter’s weak point when it does that spinning attack. You know the one.”

“And let me guess, you somehow managed to hit it’s weak point while it was spinning but you weren’t able to dodge it’s last attack.” You say as you press a damp cloth to Childe’s wound.

He hisses in pain as he grins. “You know me so well, comrade. And managed to hit its weak point? You’re saying as if it was a lucky shot.”

“Childe, no one could do that. Not even the best archer in all Teyvat could manage that.”

“Well I did it. It only means I’m becoming more adept at the bow.”

“Uh-huh sure. This is going to hurt.”

You begin disinfecting Childe’s wound as he winces, although he’s still grinning. After disinfecting it, you take out a thread and needle. “You’re okay with me stitching you up right?”

“I would’ve gone elsewhere if I wasn’t okay with it. Besides it’s not like you haven’t done it before.”

“I feel like I’ve done it too many times to count. Especially since I don’t charge you for my services.”

“Charge me all you want; I have the money to spare after all.”

You roll your eyes as you focus on stitching Childe up, “Sure, sure. Now be quiet for a few minutes. Then again, you should know the drill by now.”

Childe only hums contently as you continue patching him up. You remember first meeting Childe when you were sleeping one night. You heard a loud thud come from your front door waking you up in the process. You kept your weapon by the front door, so you grabbed it just in case. When you opened the door, you saw him slumped on the stairs, he was bleeding severely and his body was littered with cuts and bruises. You noticed the Fatui mask on his head, so you were wary of him, but you remember seeing him walking around Liyue Harbor and visiting the pharmacy at times as well. So you dragged him into your home, patching him up just like you were doing now. It was an odd sense of deja vu every time Childe showed up at your door, but you didn’t mind it.

With a sigh, you wrap Childe’s torso up tightly with a bandage and stand up. “Now, I’m sure you remember this, but you never listen to me so, please no strenuous activities. No fighting, nothing that could open your stitches. Got it?”

“Yeah, doctor’s orders, right?” Childe says with a grin as he stands up, slips his jacket back on and walks out of the bathroom. “Thanks again, Y/N.”

You shake your head slightly as you clean up the supplies scattered across the floor. “I’ve heard that too many times to count.”

As you put everything back in its place, you hear the door open and close. A few seconds later, you hear the door open again. Childe walks back in with a smile, “Wanna look at the stars with me? You’re not going back to bed are you?”

“I guess not. Let’s go.”

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

You and Childe walk outside of your house, the sand crunching under your feet. You find a spot to sit down as you gesture for Childe to sit next to you. As he does, you pick up a starconch from nearby and hold it in the air, overlapping a star with the the conch.

“You know, I remember when I was little, my parents would tell me that starconches came from the night sky.”

“Did you believe them then?”

“I was a kid, of course I believed them.”

“And now?”

You look at the starconch, bringing it close to your chest. “Somewhat. I guess childhood memories die hard.”

“Childhood memories, huh?”

Silence settles between you and Childe as you quietly look at the waves rolling onto the shore. It was calming, serene, as if time had simply stopped. You always loved the ocean, being able to hear the waves outside of your home. It could get lonely at times, but you would never admit to Childe that you enjoyed his company. Even if you only saw him when he showed up injured in front of your door.

You hear Childe yawn beside you as he stretches his legs out. “Tired?”

“Me? Never. Well, maybe just a bit.”

“That’s probably from the blood loss.”

“Good to know. Any estimation of how long this will take to heal?”

“A few weeks.”

Childe sighs as he stands up, “Expected.”

“Are you leaving already?”

“Oh, so you do enjoy my company.”

You roll your eyes as you stand up and give Childe the starconch. “Here. You like starconches right? I remember seeing you on Yaoguang Shore picking some up.”

“Have you been spying on me Y/N?”

“No. I just happened to pass by the area one day.”

Childe grins as he takes the starconch out of your hands, “Well then, thank you.” He turns with a wave as he walks away. “I’ll be back soon so don’t miss me too much.”

“Wait!”

You immediately regret your outburst when you see Childe smile again.

“Do you want to come with?”

“Just this once.”

Childe only gestures for you to walk alongside him as he turns back around, and you run up beside him. Childe’s laughter fills the air as he says something, and you lightly punch him in the arm. Maybe this little adventure wouldn’t be so bad after all.

[maybemanyskeletonhats]

A HEROS INJURIES AND AILMENTS. (Elves)

Realistically, it's only normal that the hero gets hurt right? Minuscule or near fatally right...? We'll go with near fatal. What? What's with that look? It's not like you're gonna die.

Unedited, Vehk served to be difficult, again.

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Comfort. Slight humor.

Sotha Sil finds himself gripped with an unfamiliar sense of panic. What had happened? Where did they go to get injured so badly? Most importantly, who did it? Sil found an odd sense of something rising in his chest, something ugly, simmering just beneath. Anger, or...was it concern? Sil stood silently behind the healer, presence having gone unnoticed. "What happened to them?" He demanded, voice eerily calm. The healer jolted, spinning on their heel to face him, swallowing thickly at the god. He merely tilted his head, lips pursing tightly. "I'm..." The mage started hesitantly. "I'm not sure. They don't have any other injuries besides..." They gesture to the bandages wrapped around their temples. "Leave." He sighed, voice sprinkled with stress. The healer nods, making towards the door. "I have to remind you, my lord, that they may take some time to wake. And I can't...be sure they'll remember everything as soon as they do." The mage made sure to murmur quietly. With a small click the door shut and Sil was left with a sense of foreboding.

Almalexia could feel her hands clench and unclench every few seconds. She should have known that the feeling of apprehension she felt as the Vestige left for another adventure that something was going to happen. "What's happened? Who did this?" She grits her teeth as she asks. "We're not sure, they've been beaten savagely." She could feel the tension rising in the room with her eyes firmly locked onto the High Ordinator who had carried them to her. "How long?" She hissed lowly. The Ordinator shuffled on his feet anxiously, seemingly forgetting he was the one in the armor. "I'm not sure what you -" He was cut off by the Vestige's pained groans, a few stray tears trailing their way down their face. Ayem feels her heart clench in her chest. "You'd best hope your patrol partner spares some love for as I'm assuring you as your god that should I find you have waited to bring them to me, there will be much to pay." Almalexia promises the guard, and no one in a 10 foot radius could walk without feeling the boiling anger coming off of her in waves. "Leave us." She demanded. Watching carefully as they scurried out of the room. She heaves a sigh, looking down to the slumbering Vestige with her brows pinched. Wordlessly she puts her palm over their ribs, and uses a small healing spell to ease their pain.

Vivec should have felt the irony of it all. Seeing the Nerevarine get stabbed. It's not as if it wasn't going to happen at some point. Not everyone had good intentions, especially with them. His feet quickly touched the ground as he rushed to catch them, the gasp escaping his lips before he could stop it. "After them, don't just stand there!" His tone turned harsh, glaring holes into the ordinators standing alert at the entrance. Vivec hears them whimper, and his blood boils. This was the gratitude they got in exchange for saving Morrowind? "You're going to be fine, my love. Hush now." He soothed, pressing a hand to their wound, sealing it with a small woosh. When the Nerevarine continued to whine and clench their eyes shut he furrowed his brows. Why was..? His eyes widened upon realizing that they were likely poisoned. "A priest...a mage...get a mage." His words got more and more frantic. The god feeling guilt crawling into his system. He continues to hush their cries as one of his priests rush to get a potion to flush out the poison in their system. Each and every whimper of pain causing his frown to deepen, it was his fault in the end, again.

Voryn Dagoth heard the small cry across the room, fear welled into his stomach, making him spin on his heels. The recruit had spilt something on their palm, skin turning a painful looking red. "What have you done?" He asked in a voice admittedly smaller then he wanted. 'Burnt myself. Off of what, I can't be sure.' The tall brooding mer came to stand beside them, casually taking their hand into his to examine it further. The skin which would no doubt blister and bubble up later laid dormant as sickly red skin. "I can't fix this will a healing spell," He shakes his head. "It's festered to quickly for that now." They look up at him in alarm and he swallows thickly. "You won't die, so don't keep worrying over it. We'll just have to keep an eye on it, yes?" His lips rose into a shaky smile, that small feeling of anxiety chewing at his insides. With all that was going on, with the Dwemer, with the three...advisors. He numbly reminded himself. Yet with that feeling he got a sense of nausea passing over him. What if they got hurt? What if they died? Truthfully maybe he was being over dramatic. It was just a blister. They seem to notice, looking up at him and smiling what they hope is an assuring grin.

Mannimarco hates stray necromancers. They're meddlesome. He grunts as he backs into the Vestige taking a small glance over his shoulder to access the two Necromancers staring a hungry hole into the Vestige. He clenches his jaw in anger. They acted like animals, he swore up and down they did. While his head was turned the one in front of him threw an ice spike. The icy blade skimming past his cheek by mere centimeters. Conveniently hitting one of the two behind him in the chest. He barks out a laugh, stepping off from the Vestige. Fully intending to go nuts on the one in front of him. Somewhere behind him he hears rapid footsteps and objects being hurled, innerly praying that none would hit him. It wasn't too long when he was finally able to finish off the wizard, who had done a decent job at surviving that long. He breathes a sigh of relief, only to hear a cry behind him. As he turns around he sees the vestige roll off the side of the hill. "Vestige! Gods!" He growls, rushing past the corpse near the hill and peer down at the Vestige. "Are you alright?" He called down to them. Their form remained still at the bottom. Anxiety gnawed at his gut as he made his way down. "You'd be better not be dead!" He said loud enough to try to make them stir. He crouched by their side and looked them over, other then a few bruises and scratches they seemed...something caught his eye. Their wrist. It looked broken. Mannimarco cursed. This is what happens when he chose to be stubborn.

Neloth was well aware that the Nerevarine while completely immune to getting sick was not invulnerable. They were bound to get hurt sometime or another. Which was why he made things for that exact time...and they came in handy. Neloth arches a brow, feeling his lip twitch as his eyes slid up and down assessing their injuries. "I take the Sharmat is dead then?" He admits maybe he should have said something else. But it was the question most on Morrowinds mind. They glance at him for a second as they limp over to a chair in his room ans collapse into it. "Yes. At a great cost." They finally respond, sounding exhausted. "Such as?" Neloth huffs as he picks up the bag stashed on his bottom shelf. "That...that..thing, whatever it became. Ur I mean. Had nails like gnarled tree bark. Blunt if they caught you at the right spot but gods they hurt." They roll their neck, eyes resting on him and he opens a tin of oinment. "You're holding something back, what is it?" He demands as he grabs their wrist gently. "I downed so many potions during the fight i was sick." They admitted, face growing visibly warm. Neloth chuckled loud in disbelief. "You get used to it." He explained as if it was normal. "That's what Vehk said too..." At least they weren't dead, he added mentally. He wouldn't have that. He'll mend their scratches, as they have no one else.

Divayth Fyr knew that the Nerevarine couldn't get sick. At least not anymore. He made sure of that. Their lack of aging helped too, he added as an afterthought. That didn't mean that they didn't hurt themselves though in other ways. Mentally, physically, they could still very well be harmed. When the Nerevarine came into the room clutching their ribs and saying they had a problem, his immediate response was. "And let me guess, you caused it?" His snarky response was met with a sheepish grin and a huff of laughter only for them to quickly flinch. "What have you done?" He quirked a brow. Stuffing down the feelings of worry deep into his stomach where it turned anxiously. It made him nauseous. He realized. 'Probably broke some ribs, sure sounded like it.' The whisper carried their pained response. Divayth eyes lingered on thrm for a few more extra moments before he gestured to the chair at his side. "Well, can't say I didn't warn you. But let the greatest wizard on Nirn help you yes?" The corners of his eyes crinkled as his lips rose into a smile. Divayth would push away the dread he felt, just so they wouldn't worry.

Teldryn Sero heard the shout too late. Had he been watching, he would have seen that mage hurling a fire spell in his direction. Things went into slow motion as his head turned, eyes quickly centering on the fiery inferno heading toward him. His muscles locked up as he braced for impact only to hear a shriek as the smell of burnt flesh flew through the air. 'No...' The distressed voice in his mind whispered. He looked down, the Dragonborn had taken the brunt of the impact in his stead. Teldryn quickly finished off the mage before stooping down, eyes brushing over the angry redness spread across any revealed skin on their right side. "Eh, now you've gone and done it haven't you?" He exclaims exasperatedly. Eyebrows drawn together in thought. He wasn't sure if a healing spell could do much for something that wasn't cuts, so he supposes he'll have to carry them to Ravenrock to see if the shokeep had anything to help with some burns. Teldryn could try to act as though the fear hadn't over taken his gut when he heard the sizzle of flames heading to him, eagerly wanting burn him to ashes. He shook the feeling off, he had to get them to safety.