#and all of the decisions he made were good

[vanteguccir]

── ୨୧ !　MIDNIGHT COMPANY

chris sturniolo x reader

SUMMARY: While filming a car video, the triplets witness a girl - Y/N - arguing with her boyfriend. When he smashes her phone and leaves her alone at midnight in the middle of a random parking lot, Chris steps in.

WARNING: Toxic relationship, yelling, fighting, being hurt physically and emotionally, manipulation, panicking.

REQUESTED?: Yes, by anon.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism, copy, or "inspiration"! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

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Y/N didn't meant for things to end up like that.

She really didn't.

She was just walking alongside her boyfriend through the Target aisles, her eyes darting nervously between the shelves and the floor.

But she should know better. He had already been irritated when they left the apartment - something about her taking too long to get ready - and now, every move she made felt like a mistake.

"Stick close." Her boyfriend had muttered, his voice low but firm. His eyes darted around the store, scanning the aisles of brightly colored products with an air of impatience. "I don’t want to spend all night in here."

Y/N nodded quickly, her throat dry.

"Okay."

They made their way down the main aisle, her boyfriend grabbing a few items and putting them into the cart with little regard. It was always like that; he made the decisions, and she just agreed and moved on.

He paused at the end of that same aisle, scanning the shelves with a discerning eye. She lingered a few steps behind, observing.

He grabbed a box of granola bars from the shelf, tossing it into the cart with a louder thud. She winced at the sound, her stomach knotting with unease.

"Why are you standing there? Do you see the cereal we get?" He asked, his tone clipped.

Her throat tightened. She scanned the shelves frantically, her eyes moving over the rows of colorful boxes. She wasn’t sure if it was the green box or the blue one.

"Um, I think..." She started, reaching hesitantly toward one of the options.

"Don’t think. Look." He snapped, already sounding exasperated.

Her hand faltered, and she pulled it back. Her heart was pounding, and her palms had grown clammy against the leather strap of her purse. She wanted to go home.

They turned into the household goods section, where shelves were lined with glass containers, picture frames, and other fragile items. Her boyfriend stopped abruptly, examining a set of drinking glasses with a critical eye.

"Do you think these match the ones we already have?" He asked, holding up a box with pretty crystal wine glasses.

Y/N hesitated, unsure if he wanted an answer or was just thinking out loud.

"I-I think so."

Her boyfriend sighed, setting the box down with a clatter.

"You’re not even paying attention."

"I am." She said quickly, her voice barely above a whisper, desperately searching for his free hand. "I promise."

"Whatever." He muttered, letting her squeeze his fingers once before dropping hers, moving on.

Y/N quickly followed, trying to stay out of his way, her eyes fixed on his tall figure, crossing her hands in front of her body and forcing her brain to pay more attention to anything he touched or pointed out. She couldn't risk him thinking that she didn't care.

As she passed by one of the shelves, her purse brushed against a precariously balanced display of small vases. Time seemed to slow as the first vase teetered, then fell, hitting the shelf below it and sending a chain reaction through the display.

Crash!

The sound was deafening. Glass shattered across the floor, the pieces glinting under the white lights. Y/N froze, her breath catching in her throat. She stared at the mess, her heart pounding so hard she thought it might burst out of her chest.

"Oh my god. Are you serious?" Her boyfriend hissed under his breath.

She dropped to her knees instinctively, trembling as she tried to gather the pieces with her bare hands.

"I’m sorry." She whispered, her voice trembling and desperate.

"You're fucking nbelievable." He muttered under his breath, loud enough for her to hear.

She stopped for a moment, tears prickling at the corners of her eyes. She wasn’t crying because of the spilled glasses. It wasn’t even about the moment itself. It was about the weight of knowing that every mistake she made was a reason for him to get tired of her. To leave her.

"I’m sorry." She whispered, again and again, the words tumbling out of her mouth as though they might undo the damage. "I’m so s-sorry."

But it wasn’t just an apology. It was an instinctive response, born from the fear of making him feel any sort of negative emotion at all. She knew that he wouldn’t brush this off, wouldn’t laugh, and say it was no big deal. He would be mad, and she couldn't let him get mad at her. Not again.

She desperately wanted to shrink herself down into something more digestible for him at that moment. Something he could chew up, spit out, and discard - like gum.

A woman at the end of the aisle glanced over, her expression a mix of surprise and concern. A man on the opposite side peeked around the corner, his eyes narrowing as he took in the scene.

Y/N’s face burned with humiliation. She felt their stares on her, for sure, full of judgment. Her hands fumbled over the shards, shaking too hard to pick them up properly.

Her boyfriend crouched down beside her, his expression now unusually calm. His hand landed on her shoulder, but the grip was firm, bordering on painful.

"Y/N, honey, stop. You’re going to hurt yourself."

"I’m sorry." She whispered again, the tears on her eyes starting to burn her orbs with the force she used to stop the drops from escaping. She couldn’t let him see her break. She’d learned the hard way that crying only made him angrier.

"Stop it." He said more firmly, moving his hand through her arm, grabbing her wrist and pulling her hand away from the glass. He looked up at the people looking back at them and forced a polite, almost apologetic smile. "She’s... a little clumsy. Always has been. Right, honey? I know you didn’t mean to. You can’t help it, can you?"

Y/N stiffened, her stomach churning. She forced her head to move up and down, the movement coming out almost robotic.

"You’re just... distracted. All the time." He continued, his smile cold and tight. "That’s why these things happen. You can’t focus."

She wanted to argue, to tell him that she wasn’t some careless mess, but the words died in her throat. What good would it do?

"Here." He said, taking an empty cardboard box near them and shoving the pieces to the side with it, taking it all out of the way. "There. Fixed. See?"

She nodded, swallowing hard.

"Now, get up."

She stood, her knees wobbling slightly as she adjusted the strap of her purse. He grabbed her arm, his fingers digging into her skin.

"It’s okay." He continued, speaking louder now so the others could hear. "She just gets a little overwhelmed sometimes. Don’t worry, we’ll take care of this."

The man at the end of the aisle nodded, giving her boyfriend a small, understanding smile. The woman pursed her lips and turned away, muttering something about how 'accidents happen'.

"Let’s go." He said through clenched teeth as he started walking toward the exit.

"But-"

"No." His voice was low, but the warning was clear. He smiled tightly at the few remaining onlookers as he dragged her past them.

Her face burned with humiliation, but she kept quiet, her eyes glued to the floor. His grip tightened when her feet seemed to disobey her brain, and she bit the inside of her cheek to keep from crying out.

The automatic doors slid open, and the cool night air rushed over her, but it did nothing to calm the storm inside her head. Her boyfriend’s pace didn’t slow, his hand still gripping her skin as he led her toward the parking lot.

Her heart was pounding, her thoughts spiraling into chaos. She felt like a child being scolded, small and powerless, her voice locked somewhere deep inside her throat.

When they reached the car, he finally let go of her arm, shoving her away as if she were a piece of garbage. She stumbled slightly, catching herself against the side of the car, waiting for whatever came next.

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From the other side of their spot in the parking lot, the triplets were parked, their van slightly away from the main entrance. It was Wednesday night, and they were filming their weekly video, the interior of the van alive with yells and laughter.

"... No, seriously, people do that sometimes." Chris said, turning slightly towards Matt while trying to prove his point. "Patches O'Houlihan, he did that."

Matt scoffed, looking at him with an 'are you serious?' look.

"From Dodgeball? The fictional character?" He laughed incredulously, looking at Nick through the rearview, ready for another weird thing to come out of Chris's mouth.

Nick's attention, however, wasn’t on him - or them, for that matter. It was on the world outside. He always had a habit of scanning his surroundings, probably in a way of caring for himself and his brothers.

As Chris kept going, earning a loud groan from Matt, Nick’s eyes caught movement across the parking lot, almost exactly in front of their van. Near one of the parked cars, a couple stood in the golden glow of a streetlamp.

Nick’s stomach twisted. Something about the way the guy loomed over the girl, his gestures sharp and erratic, immediately set off alarm bells. The girl was visibly distressed, her arms crossed over her chest, her posture shrinking with every second.

Without thinking, Nick leaned forward and slapped Chris on the shoulder, interrupting him.

"Nick, what the-" Chris began, turning sharply, his annoyance evident.

"Shut up." Nick hissed, his voice low but firm, cutting through Chris’s protest. He nodded toward the couple. "Look."

Chris frowned but followed Nick’s gaze, his expression shifting from irritation to curiosity and then to concern. Matt, who had been in the middle of adjusting his hoodie, leaned closer to the windshield.

"What’s going on?" Matt asked, his voice quieter now.

Nick didn’t answer, instead reaching for the button to lower his window, easing it down. A faint, angry voice carried into the van, growing clearer as the man’s yelling intensified.

"... do you even understand how embarrassing you are?"

The girl stood frozen, her arms clutching her sides as though trying to hold herself together. Her head was bowed, her hair shielding her face from the world. She didn’t respond, didn’t dare to look up, and that only seemed to fuel his anger.

"What the fuck?" Matt muttered, leaning forward slightly to get a better look, his eyes glued to the scene.

"You think I’m joking?" He snapped, stepping closer to her. "You think I enjoy having every pair of eyes in that store on me because you can’t manage to walk without causing a damn scene?" The man continued, stepping closer to her.

Her response was so soft that it barely reached the triplets’ ears.

"I’m sorry..."

"Sorry?" The man laughed bitterly. "You’re always sorry. You’re sorry when you spill coffee, you’re sorry when you trip over your own feet, and now you’re sorry for knocking over half a shelf like a goddamn child?"

The girl flinched at his words, biting her bottom lip while taking a small - almost imperceptible - step back.

Chris tensed after watching her reaction, his jaw tightening.

"This guy’s a piece of-"

"Chris, shush." Matt snapped, his voice low.

"I told you before, didn’t I? Stop acting like a fool every time we’re out in public. This is for your own good." The man spat.

"I didn’t mean to-" She started, but he cut her off quickly.

"Shut up!" He barked, his voice echoing across the lot. She shrank back, her body trembling. "You know better than to talk back to me." He growled, taking another step closer.

"I wasn’t-"

"Stop talking!" He barked, his voice echoing across the empty lot probably louder than intended. "Every time you open your mouth, you make it worse. Do you even understand that? Or are you too stupid to figure it out?"

Tears accumulated inside her eyeballs, shining below the lights.

"Look, I’ll call an Uber, okay?" Y/N murmured, her voice cracking. "You can go home and calm down. Please."

"Oh, you’ll call an Uber? Sure, let’s waste more of my money on your screw-ups." The man’s laugh was sharp and bitter.

She reached into her purse, her hands shaking as she pulled out her phone, unlocking it and trying to search for tha app, being harshly interrupted when the man snatched the device from her grip with such force that she stumbled.

Chris shifted uncomfortably, his fists clenched on his lap.

"Do we step in?"

"I don't think we should, not right now." Nick whispered.

"Give it back. Please, baby." She asked, her voice weak, trembling.

"Why? So you can text your little friends about what a terrible boyfriend I am?" He sneered, holding the phone high above his head.

Y/N's mouth dropped open, her wet eyes widening as if he had just committed the worst crime.

"Baby, please." She begged, her tears now falling freely, causing her voice to break. "I would never ever do that. I love you so much, you know that, right?"

He ignored her. With a single, violent motion, he hurled the phone to the ground. The sound of glass and plastic shattering against the pavement echoed in the silence.

She recoiled as though the blow had landed on her instead of the device, a squeak involuntarily escaping from her mouth. Her arms wrapped tighter around herself as she stared at the broken pieces. Her whole life, broken.

"Should've had taken that shit from you sooner." The man spat, shaking his head. "Pathetic. Can’t do anything right."

Matt and Nick exchanged horrified glances through the rearview, Chris's face pale by their side.

"P-please, don't leave me here, baby. I love you, I'm so sorry." The girl begged, gluing her hands in a praying gesture in front of her body. "I promise I'll do better."

"I can't even look at your face right now." The man shook his head. "I need some time, okay?" He didn't wait for an answer before storming off to the driver-side of his car, slamming the door and speeding out of the lot, tires screeching against the asphalt.

Y/N stood frozen, her trembling figure illuminated by the lights and the moon.

Chris didn’t think. One second, he was staring at her, and the next, his hand was on the van door handle, yanking it open.

"Chris!" Matt hissed from the driver’s seat. "What are you doing?"

"Chris- what the fuck?!" Nick added, his voice urgent but not loud enough to stop him.

But Chris couldn’t wait. He couldn’t sit there any longer, watching this girl suffer alone.

He bolted from the van, the cool night air hitting him like a slap, but he barely noticed. His long strides carried him across the parking lot, his heart pounding not from his pace but from pure urgency.

"Oh my god, he's crazy!" Matt’s groan echoed from behind him, but it was distant, like background noise.

He didn’t stop. He couldn’t stop.

The closer he got, the more his stomach churned. Her face was streaked with tears, her cheeks blotchy and raw from crying. But she wasn’t just crying. She was panicking. He could see it in the way her hands trembled uncontrollably, and in the way her breath came in short, sharp gasps.

Chris slowed as he approached her, not wanting to startle her. She was staring at the exit of the parking lot, her wide, unfocused and tear-filled eyes locked on the gate arm as though it was the only thing anchoring her to the ground.

"Hey." He said softly, his voice gentle but firm.

She flinched, her head snapping up, and her gaze locked on him as she took a step back. For a moment, she looked utterly terrified, and Chris's throat tightened.

He quickly held his hands up, palms out, trying to show her he wasn’t a threat.

"Hey, hey, it’s okay." He said quickly. "I just... I saw what happened, and I wanted to check if you’re okay."

Her lips parted as if she wanted to say something, but no words came out. Instead, a fresh wave of tears spilled down her cheeks. She shook her head, taking another step back, her back almost hitting the metal post of the streetlight.

"You don’t have to be scared." Chris said, his voice softer now, almost pleading. "I’m not going to hurt you, I swear. I just want to help."

She looked at him again, her watery eyes studying his face as though trying to figure out if he was lying.

Chris took a cautious step closer, keeping his movements slow.

"You’re shaking." He said gently. "It's freezing out here. Can I... can I give you my hoodie?"

She blinked at him, her brows furrowing slightly.

"Why?" She croaked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Because it’s cold, and you’re upset, and I’d feel better if you weren’t standing out here like this." Chris said honestly, shrugging off his hoodie - ignoring how the hairs on his arm fully stood up with the cold air - and holding it out to her.

She hesitated, her eyes darting from his face to the piece of clothing, then back again.

"It’s okay." Chris reassured her. "You don’t have to take it, but I promise it’s clean. And warm."

After what felt like an eternity, she slowly reached out and took the hoodie from him. Her hands were trembling so much that she almost dropped it, but she managed to pull it to her chest, pressing it against her covered skin.

"Thank you." She mumbled, her voice shaky.

Chris exhaled a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.

"Of course. What’s your name?" He asked in a soft tone. "I'm Chris."

She blinked her eyes at him, frowning, clearly surprised by the question.

"Y-Y/N." She said hesitantly.

"Y/N." He repeated, offering her a small, reassuring smile. "It’s really nice to meet you... Um, do you want to sit down? You look like you need a second."

She looked around the parking lot again before nodding slowly, and Chris gestured to the curb nearby. He waited until she sat down before taking a seat a few feet away, giving her space but staying close enough that she wouldn’t feel alone.

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

"I’m fine." She finally said - even though it wasn't what Chris was expecting to hear, her voice cutting through the silence, hoarse and shaky.

Chris tilted his head slightly, his brows furrowing.

"I don’t think you are."

"I am." She insisted, but her voice cracked on the words, betraying her.

Chris turned his face slightly to the side to meet her eyes, curving his upper body, trying to make himself seem less imposing.

"I know you don’t know me. Well, only my name now." He said softly. "But I can tell you’re not fine. And that’s okay. You don’t have to be. Not after that."

She bit her lower lip hard, and for a second, Chris thought she might break down again. But instead, she straightened her spine, her trembling hands wiping at her tear-streaked face.

"It's not as bad as it looked. He was just angry." She said quietly, almost as if she was saying that to herself. "It’s not his fault. I... I messed up."

Chris’s heart sank at her words.

"You didn’t mess up." He said firmly, his voice laced with conviction.

She shook her head, her hands gripping the fabric of his hoodie tightly.

"I did. I dropped something, broke it, actually. It was stupid, and it drew attention to us, and... and he doesn’t like that. He was just trying to make me understand."

Chris stared at her, his chest tightening painfully.

"That’s not okay." He said softly. "No one should treat you like that, no matter what happened."

"You don’t understand." She said, her voice rising slightly as she hugged herself tighter. "He just... he gets frustrated sometimes, but it’s because he cares. He doesn’t mean to be mean."

Chris’s jaw clenched, a mix of anger and sadness boiling inside him.

"Love isn’t supposed to be like that, Y/N." He said gently. "It’s not supposed to hurt you and leave you standing in a parking lot crying, shaking, and alone."

Her eyes filled with fresh tears again, and she looked away, staring at the ground as if she couldn’t bear to meet his gaze.

"You don’t know him." She whispered, shaking her head vehemently.

Chris wanted to scream, to grab her shoulders, and shake her until she understood that what she was describing wasn’t love. It was control, manipulation, and abuse. But even though he had never helped a victim of a toxic and abusive relationship before, he knew he should keep his voice calm, so he did it, maintaining his tone soft and steady.

"You’re right." He said. "I don’t know him. But I know what I saw, and I can only imagine what it feels like to have someone make you think you’re the problem when you’re not."

Her head whipped toward him, her eyes narrowing.

"You don’t know anything about me."

Chris held up his hands.

"You’re right again. I don’t. But I’m not here to judge you. I’m here because I want to help. No strings, no expectations. Just... let me help. I can't leave you alone here for the rest of the night."

She shook her head again, her hands trembling as she brushed her hair out of her face.

"I shouldn’t even be talking to you about this. It isn't fair to him. He’d be so heartbroken if he knew."

Chris watched her for a second too long.

"But you deserve to talk to someone." He finally said. "You deserve to feel safe."

"I am safe!" She snapped, her voice ringing out in the empty parking lot. The declaration sounded hollow, as if she was trying to convince herself more than him.

Chris took a deep breath, closing his eyes for a second.

"I just want to help you." He said, his tone pleading. "Do you have someone you can call? A family member, a friend? You can use my phone-"

Her reaction was immediate and panicked. She shook her head furiously, her eyes wide with fear as her body tightened, seeming ready to stand up and run.

"No! No, I can’t call anyone."

"Why not?" Chris asked gently, though his heart was racing, his eyes traveling quickly to his car where his brothers were before going back to Y/N. "They’d want to help you, just like I do."

"I said no!" She cried, her voice cracking. Her breathing was shallow and quick now, teetering on the edge of hyperventilation. "You don’t understand. I can’t just call someone. And you... you need to go. God, you shouldn’t even be here."

Chris frowned, his brows knitting together.

"Please, I’m just trying to-"

"You don’t get it." She interrupted, her voice hushed but frantic. She glanced around the parking lot as though expecting her boyfriend to be there somewhere, watching them. "He’s going to come back. And if he sees you here, if he thinks... you need to leave. Now."

Chris’s stomach dropped at the sheer terror in her voice.

"Y/N, he won't hurt you in any type of way while I'm here with you. I can promise you that." He moved a bit closer again, careful not to make any sudden movement. "Let me do something for you. Anything, please."

"You can’t." She whispered, her voice barely audible. "No one can. Please, just go. He’s going to be here soon, and I-I can’t let him see you."

She was holding onto that story like it was a lifeline, but the way her hands trembled and her breath hitched betrayed her doubt.

"What if he doesn’t?" Chris asked gently. "What if he’s not coming back tonight?"

Her face fell for a brief moment before she quickly masked it, straightening up.

"He will." She said, though there was no conviction in her tone. "He always does."

Chris nodded, looking around dismissively.

"Okay. Maybe he will. But just in case... maybe you could let me help you. You don’t have to trust me, I get that. I'm a stranger. But let me offer you something. A safe place to wait."

"I don’t have anywhere to go." She admitted, her voice so quiet it was almost lost in the night air. "Just our house. And I don't think I should go back there now."

Chris’s heart twisted at her words and how uncertain they sound, but he kept his expression neutral, careful not to show pity.

"Okay." He said softly. "Then maybe you can just... talk to me. You don’t have to get in my car. We can sit out here. I’ll stay right here in the open where you can see me."

She hesitated, her eyes darting to the ground.

"Why do you care so much?"

Chris crossed his legs above the pavement, relaxing his posture further.

"Because I know what it’s like to feel like you’re on your own." He said simply. "And because I don’t think anyone should have to go through something like this alone. You don’t deserve that."

She hesitated, her gaze watching her hands above her thighs.

"I won’t call the police unless you want me to." Chris added. "I won’t push you to do anything you don't want to do. But you don’t have to deal with this alone."

Her lip quivered, and she closed her eyes tightly, her voice barely a whisper.

"I don’t even know what I’d do."

Chris’s heart ached for her, but he kept his tone steady.

"How about this." He said. "I’ll stay with you until you figure that out. If you want, I can take you to a hotel, or I can help you find somewhere else to stay for the night. But whatever you decide, I’m not going to leave you here."

She was silent for a long time, her shoulders rising and falling with each shaky breath. Finally, she nodded, just once.

"Okay." She said.

Chris exhaled slowly, relief washing over him.

"Okay." He echoed.

For the first time that night, she looked at him fully, her eyes filled with a mix of fear and cautious hope.

He opened his widest smile in response, leaning back slightly with his palms against the curb behind his back and glancing up at the sky.

"You know." He started, his tone casual. "This isn’t exactly the way I imagined spending my Wednesday night."

Her eyes scanned his face carefully, frowning, feeling like she was the one to destroy his day - or night.

"What do you mean?" She asked hesitantly, her voice hoarse.

Chris shrugged, being careful not to mention his career. He didn't want to overwhelm her.

"Well, usually on Wednesdays, I’m sitting in my van with my brothers, arguing over who gets to pick the fast-food spot. We’re probably debating something ridiculous, too."

That earned him the smallest, almost imperceptible twitch of her lips. It wasn’t quite a smile, but it was something. It encouraged Chris to continue.

"My brothers are idiots, by the way." He said, his tone light. "Don’t tell them I said that, though. They'll get big heads thinking I actually pay attention to their nonsense."

Her brow rose slightly, curiosity tugging at the edges of her expression, her body instinctively leaning towards him.

"What are they like?"

Chris chuckled, throwing his head to the side, laying his cheek against his shoulder and looking at her eyes.

"They're amazing. Weird, but amazing. They're so funny in their individual way, always making me laugh so hard that sometimes I feel like I could pass out."

This time, she let out a soft, breathy laugh, and Chris felt a flicker of warmth in his chest. It was small, but it was progress.

"You’re close with them?" She asked quietly.

"Yeah." Chris said, nodding. "It’s hard not to be when you all live and do everything together. But they’re good guys. Annoying as hell, but good."

She looked down at her hands, her fingers fidgeting with the frayed edge of his hoodie sleeve.

"Must be nice." She murmured.

Chris’s smile faltered for a moment, but he recovered quickly.

"It is." He admitted. "But, you know, we fight sometimes. Like, really fight. Last week, Matt threw a punch at me because I wouldn’t stop talking during his game."

Her lips twitched again, and this time, it was a small, shy smile.

"What were you saying?" She asked, her voice soft but carrying a hint of amusement.

"Oh, some random shit. Can’t even remember now. Probably something embarrassing, knowing me." Chris grinned. "Matt said I was ruining his concentration, but honestly, I think he just doesn’t appreciate my brain work."

She shook her head slightly, her smile lingering.

"You’re ridiculous." She said softly, almost reflexively, but as soon as the words left her mouth, her expression shifted. Her body tensed up, her shoulders pulling in as her eyes darted to him in alarm. "I didn’t mean-"

"Guilty as charged." Chris smoothly interrupted her, opening a smirk while looking at her, trying to express through his eyes that it was okay. "But, hey, if ridiculous is what it takes to make you laugh, then I’m all in."

Her looked down again at the pavement, scraping her shoes over the small rocks.

"Thanks." She said quietly.

"For what?" Chris asked, his voice gentle.

"For... keeping me company." She said, her gaze fixed on her lap. "I don’t feel... as bad right now."

Chris felt a lump in his throat but pushed it down, keeping his tone light.

"Anytime." He said. "I’ve got a whole arsenal of dumb stories and good jokes if you need them."

She looked at him then, her eyes softer than before.

"You’re really nice." She said, pressing her lips in a fine line.

Chris shrugged, a faint blush creeping up his neck.

"I just don’t like seeing people hurt." He said honestly. "And, I don’t know, you seem like someone who deserves a lot better than... all this."

Her eyes filled with tears, and for a moment, Chris thought she might start crying again. Instead, she took a deep breath and nodded.

"Thanks." She said again, her voice steadier this time.

Chris gave her a warm smile.

"No problem. Now, how do you feel about bad puns? Because I’ve got a killer one about a duck and a lawyer."

Her laughter filled the cold night air, causing a large smile to stretch across Chris's lips. He would do everything in his power to help this girl.

[plutotheplum]

Winter's Kiss

sylus x fem!reader

summary: luke and kieran rope you into spending christmas at the n109 zone (and kissing their boss).

cw: fluff, soft!sylus, kissing under the mistletoe, luke and kieran being idiots, found family

wc: 2.7k

a/n: merry christmas eve/christmas my lovelies!! some fluff for the holiday season! here's to hoping sylus turns up under our christmas trees :)

also on ao3!

Somehow, you’d ended up in the N109 Zone for Christmas.

It wasn’t like the barrage of texts from Luke and Kieran had weighed upon your decision, the rapid influx of messages from the twins demanding your presence for Christmas. That coupled with the image of Sylus alone on Christmas night hadn’t made your stomach churn and heart ache at all.

The year had been a tumultuous one. Wanderers, disturbing visions and wanted criminals had you on edge these past few months, so perhaps unwinding with said, now somewhat mellow, wanted criminals was warranted in some way. 

You heft the presents under your arms, moving your fingers to stabilize the wrapped goods when you feel one of them begin to slip. Shopping hadn’t been too difficult, although choosing a gift for Sylus had proved to be somewhat of a challenge. You weren’t sure whether to get him something heartfelt or to gift him a refurbished gun with new prototyped features that were advertised to the Hunter Association. 

The glittering streams of tinsel drags you out of your thoughts, a smile pulling at your lips as you imagine Luke, Kieran and Sylus decorating. You hear panicked, hushed whispers when you turn the corner, a laugh spilling out of you when you see the sight before you.

Luke perched atop Kieran’s shoulders, Kieran grumbling irritatedly when Luke flails and misses the tip of the Christmas tree, the golden star falling off only for Kieran to shift and have Luke catch it.

“It’s not that hard, you idiot,” Kieran grunts, his knees bending in an attempt to readjust to Luke’s weight.

“Then you try!” Luke protests.

“I thought you two were meant to be in tune,” you muse, stepping closer, over the strewn wrapping paper and bending down to add your presents to the growing collection under the Christmas tree. 

“We are,” they both say in unison, their eyes landing on you.

“You made it!” Luke says happily, squirming, “Boss will be glad.”

“ Really glad,” Keiran adds, his annoyance forgotten momentarily. “We’re glad too.”

You smile at them, crossing your arms over your chest. “It’s nice to see you guys too. Maybe you should try holding the star at the tip, Luke?”

“That’s what I told him!” Kieran says, letting out an aggrieved sigh. 

Luke huffs indignantly, adjusting his position yet again as Keiran steps closer to the tree, giving Luke some more leverage. It’s another failed attempt and Kieran is rolling his eyes, dumping Luke onto his feet unceremoniously. 

“You do me now.”

“What about her?” Luke asks, pointing at you.

“You could ask Mephisto,” you offer, pointing at the mechanical crow that was currently preening his feathers. “What do you say, buddy?”

Mephisto gives an indignant squawk, his little head turning away arrogantly, tending to his feathers with care.

“Nevermind,” you sigh, before looking towards the twins. “Kieran is taller than me, though.”

“Just get on,” Luke whines as he bends his knees, waiting for you to climb up onto his shoulders.

You open your mouth to protest, but there’s a warm hand curling over your hip, pulling you back gently, flush against a firm chest. “Let’s not badger our guest, hm?”

Deep and velvety, you have no doubts as to who this voice belongs to. Your head tilts back to find Sylus smirking down at you, his expression amused.

“Glad you could join us, sweetie. The N109 Zone isn’t usually so… festive.”

“Yeah, well, apparently you were missing me, so I figured I’d drop in,” you tease, a sly smile spreading across your face.

Luke and Kieran snicker until Sylus’ stern expression silences them, his hand squeezing at your hip in warning.

“I never said that.”

“Must’ve been the wind,” you murmur.

“Right,” Sylus deadpans.

You squeak when the red mist wraps around you, lifting you off of the ground, the golden star being thrust into your hand by the same swirling mist. The trio of men beneath you seem amused as the tendrils sweep you higher, closer to the top of the tree, giving you enough height to place the star right where it needs to be.

Sylus’ Evol dissipates as it sets you down onto your feet, the mist sweeping across playfully and making your dress flutter. 

“That’s one way to do it,” Kieran remarks, slinging his arm over Luke’s shoulders before they shoot each other knowing glances and disappear from the living room.

“You came,” Sylus says once the twins have left, his arms crossing over his chest.

“I did,” you reply, peering up at him, your hands clasping behind your back, “too bad you never sent me a personal invitation.” Sylus smiles, and you can’t help but think he looks softer in this light, the ruthless leader of Onychinus replaced by a man who seems less intense and more accommodating than usual.

“I figured Luke and Kieran would’ve gotten through to you,” he muses, his head tilting as he lets his gaze dip over you.

You do the same, taking in his sweater and trousers, trying to quell the inconvenient yet undeniable pull of attraction you feel towards him. 

“Well, they did,” you sigh, managing to drag your gaze back up to meet his, “although I can’t say I appreciated how many texts they sent.”

“The twins tend to get excited,” Sylus replies, reaching out towards you, his fingers tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

It’s hard to not notice how Sylus’ touch lingers for a moment, his expression looking a little absent-minded as though remembering something from the past. Your brows furrow, unable to decide between asking him or letting his touch linger further. His hand drops away after a few moments before he clears his throat. 

“I made dinner,” he announces.

You laugh, eyes lighting up at the thought of Sylus in the kitchen. You don’t quite believe him though, not when Sylus had enough money to hire at least a dozen personal chefs.

“You’re not serious,” you say, head tilting in amusement.

“I am,” Sylus smirks, his hand landing on your lower back as he guides you forward, towards the hallway, “Luke and Kieran pitched in.”

“Now I feel special,” you muse.

“I suppose you are,” Sylus replies, his expression sobering, “to all of us.”

You’re taken aback by the sincerity in his words, heart giving way to a flutter that you attempt to squash down by pinching yourself, not that it helps. This sense of belonging isn’t what you’d planned on, warmth blooming in your chest as you stare up at Sylus and remember the twins. It’s nice, really, to be valued like this. You can’t help but think you could get used to it. 

Laughter echoes through the hallway as you and Sylus move through it. You startle when Kieran shouts, his voice urgent. 

“Don’t move!”

“Oh, look at that ,” Luke sighs dramatically, feigning innocence as he peers upwards, directing his gaze above you and Sylus.

Bewilderment flashes across your face until you hear Sylus let out a low laugh. You tip your head back, eyes narrowing when you spy the sprig of mistletoe hanging right above where you’re standing. Mephisto adds in something that sounds like a suspiciously happy squawk, and you stare at the crow, realising you’ve been betrayed. 

“Funny,” you say drily, shaking your head. 

Kieran sighs just like Luke, as though he can’t quite believe the situation. The cunning expression in their eyes gives them away. 

Devious, little brats.

“Well, you can’t move now,” Luke says, sounding positively aggrieved. 

“I suppose you’ll just have to kiss, isn’t that right?” Kieran says, looking towards Luke. Luke nods, a self-satisfied smile settling on his face. “Those are the rules.”

“What rules?” you shoot back, glaring at the pair of twins, “there are no rules. I could quite literally just walk away.”

“Christmas tradition !” Luke and Kieran both argue, their faces looking a little crestfallen when they hear the tone of your voice, “you have to kiss!”

You can feel your heart twinge at the earnest tone present in their voices, your eyes flickering up to meet Sylus’. Strangely enough, he doesn’t seem to have any protests, his gaze boring down into yours expectantly. 

“You seriously have nothing to say?” you grouse, head tilting.

“It’s just a kiss, sweetie,” he replies, his arm wrapping around your waist to bring you closer to him. “What’s the matter, hm? Afraid you’ll fall for me?”

“The thought is laughable,” you retort, trying to ignore the soothing squeeze of his hand against your side; the unrelenting warmth that was currently seeping into you and melting your hardened resolve.

“I suppose we’ll find out,” Sylus murmurs, his fingers gripping your chin to tilt your head. “We have time.”

“Move a little to the right!” Kieran calls out, waving his hand.

“What for?” you ask exasperatedly, feeling Sylus step closer, moving you with him.

“For- for the aesthetic !” Luke huffs out.

The twins look a little impatient as you stare at them, your brows furrowing further when you see Kieran whisper something to Luke.

Sylus doesn’t let you dwell longer on the twins’ antics, his calloused hand cupping your cheek to turn you towards him. 

“Merry Christmas, sweetie.”

Your eyes flutter shut as his lips slot over yours, your hand curling around his wrist. Sylus kisses you like he means it, lips soft yet insistent, his thumb smoothing over your cheek. You forget where you are momentarily, knees feeling weak as you fist his sweater pulling him closer, rising up on the tips of your toes to meet his kiss better.

Sylus tilts his head, deepening the kiss. Your stubborn resolve weakens pitifully and you can only think about how perfect this moment is, how good Sylus’ lips feel, how warm his embrace is-

There’s a blinding array of flashes, white sparking out from under your closed eyelids until your eyes snap open, head turning to the side to find both Luke and Kieran with cameras in hand.

“Oh, shit,” Luke begins.

“I thought the flash was off,” Kieran mutters, frowning.

You grit your teeth, taking one step towards them, your eyes narrowing. “Give that to me.”

Luke and Kieran hug their cameras to their chest protectively.

“Christmas memories,” Luke laughs nervously when he sees the determination in your eyes. “Wouldn’t- wouldn’t want to lose those.”

Kieran nods in agreement.

“Boss!” They cry out when the cameras get swept out of their hands by Sylus’ Evol, one of them landing in your hands.

You click through the images, heat blossoming in your stomach when you see how intimate the kiss looks, Sylus’ body pressed firmly against yours, his hand on your cheek. It’s romantic, your somewhat eager response, Sylus’ tight hold, all captured closely through the lens.

“‘s nice,” Sylus murmurs, his chest pressing up against your back as he peers down at the little camera screen.

“ No ,” you shake your head vehemently, “it’s not nice.”

“We look good,” he whispers, his voice dropping lower, lips brushing over the shell of your ear.

You try to ignore the way his hands feel on your hips, his body pressing a little closer into yours. It’s hard not to agree with him the longer you stare at the images though, you do look good, and Luke’s interjection about Christmas memories has you feeling a little forgiving. 

“Fine, keep them,” you sigh, handing the camera back to Luke whilst Sylus does the same to Kieran, “but don’t share them, please.”

Luke and Kieran nod enthusiastically and you snag onto Kieran’s arm before he can leave, your voice dropping to a low whisper.

“Send them to me,” you whisper, “and not a word to anyone.”

Kieran smiles deviously and you roll your eyes, reaching up to ruffle his hair. 

“You’re such a jerk, Kieran.”

“C’mon,” he whines, “you love us.”

You smile up at him, your arm hooking with his. “Maybe just a little.”

He snorts and you let out a laugh, following after Luke and Sylus who had left earlier, talking about something else. Dinner goes smoothly enough and you refuse to tell Luke and Kieran what their presents are, despite their whining.

You feed Mephisto little bites of your food, your finger petting his little feathery head gently every now and then. He preens at the attention, letting out an odd sounding chirp every now and then when you tap his little beak and offer him some more food.

Sylus is seated beside you and it’s becoming increasingly difficult to stop stealing glances at the side of his face. The longer you stare, the more you can feel yourself falling deeper, a pressing crisis unfolding in your mind. 

Fuck . You think you might like him.

Deep rooted feelings of yearning never lead to any good, and yet, you were too impatient not to act on them.You wait patiently, fingers playing with themselves in your lap, for the perfect opportunity. 

It presents itself when Luke and Kieran break out into an insignificant quarrel, their eyes moving elsewhere. Sylus is already looking towards you and you’re leaning forward, cupping the back of his head to bring him closer, lips meeting his in a slow, sweet kiss. 

“What was that for?” Sylus murmurs when you break away, his eyes roving over the flush settling on your cheeks.

“No reason,” you reply nonchalantly, leaning back in your chair.

Sylus scoffs out a laugh, behaving seemingly unaffected. There’s a light flush dusted across his cheeks however, his tongue darting out to taste the remnants of you on his lips.

“This is for no reason too,” he says, grabbing your chin and pulling you closer.

You sigh contentedly when he kisses you, arms wrapping around his neck, your lips working against his a little feverishly as though you can’t get enough.

A cacophony of protests breaks out from the twins when they see you and Sylus kissing at the table.

“Gross! Get a room!”

You roll your eyes, breaking away from Sylus to peer over at them. 

“You were the ones that made us kiss,” you huff, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Yeah, we didn’t mean all the time,” Luke corrects.

“Deal with it,” Sylus interrupts, brushing a kiss to your cheek.

You hum happily, Sylus’ hand warm as it encases yours under the table. Luke pouts and Kieran mirrors him, both of them slumping back in their chairs.

You and Sylus get a little more privacy when you step outside, snow dusting across both of you, covering the shrubbery and trees. Mephisto swoops through the air, his mechanical wings flapping as he lands on a tree branch above. The icy chill of the wintery air isn’t so bad, not when Sylus is stepping up behind you, his chin resting on your shoulder as he holds you close to him.

“It was bound to happen,” he murmurs, kissing your cheek again as you stare up at the night sky, glittering with stars.

“You seem awfully sure of yourself,” you reply, squeezing his forearms.

“Let’s just say… I had an inkling. I know you, sweetie.”

“I don’t understand what you mean sometimes,” you sigh, peering up at him, head resting on his shoulder.

“You don’t have to,” he whispers, dropping a kiss to your temple.

You sway gently in his arms, pressing yourself closer, eyes slipping shut. You’d kill for more moments of peace like this.

It never seems to last for long.

The beginnings of torn wrapping paper begin to fill your ears and you peek through the glass window to find the twins tearing at their presents.

“Oh, these are sick !” Luke announces, beginning to twirl around the pair of knives you had gotten him.

“They have to wait!” you protest, reaching for the door, “Sylus, they have to wait!”

“Let them,” Sylus murmurs, dragging you back into his arms, his chest rumbling with laughter.

You can’t help but let out an exasperated noise, smiling up at him. Sylus lowers his head and you nudge your nose against his gently, pressing a tender kiss to his lips.

“What?” he asks quietly when you trace the curve of his cheek, your fingers splaying across his skin.

You kiss him again, revelling in the softness of his eyes when you pull apart. There's a strange warmth in your chest, an unknown pull in the back of your mind as though something familiar were evading you.

You feel like you know him too.

“Merry Christmas, Sylus.”

[moonlightwritingf1]

The weight of the spotlight | LN4

💥 summary ━━━━━━━ Lando and Y/N go public with their relationship, but media scrutiny overwhelms her. Criticized for not smiling or posing for photos, she finds comfort in Lando’s unwavering support, knowing they can face it together.

💥 pairing ━━━━━━━ Lando Norris x she!reader

💥 word count ━━━━━━━ 1.5k

It had been just over a year since Lando Norris and Y/n officially became a couple. Their relationship was kept under wraps for most of that time, and only a select few knew about their romance. But after months of private dates, quiet weekends, and secret trips, they decided to make their relationship public. The decision came not from a place of pressure but out of a desire to be more open about the happiness they had found in one another.

For Lando, the decision to go public with Y/n had been easy. He was tired of sneaking around and hiding their affection. Y/n had been supportive through the ups and downs of his racing career, and she deserved to be recognized as his equal. As a result, after a casual yet intimate announcement on social media, their relationship was out in the open. It was exhilarating for both of them, but it also came with an unexpected consequence.

From the moment the media caught wind of their relationship, Y/n was thrust into the public eye. The floodgates opened, and photographers, journalists, and fans alike were eager to capture every moment of the couple. It was exciting at first, and Y/n tried to embrace it for Lando’s sake. After all, being with him meant she was part of the F1 world now, a world filled with flashing cameras, curious fans, and constant scrutiny.

But the attention soon became overwhelming.

At the first few races that Y/n attended to show her support for Lando, she did her best to smile when cameras captured her. She knew that being in the paddock, around the drivers and their teams, meant a certain level of exposure. But no matter how much she tried, something about it felt unnatural. The flashes, the shouts of photographers, the sudden pressure to be “on” all the time—it wasn’t her.

The criticism started subtly at first, with some comments here and there on social media. It wasn’t until after the third race weekend that the noise became deafening.

“You’d think Lando could do better than this,” one tweet read. “She never smiles. Is she even happy?”

Another comment, posted under a paparazzi photo, read: “Y/n looks so miserable. Smile for the camera, hun.”

And then, it started to snowball.

“Why does she refuse to take pictures with fans? Does she think she’s too good for them?”

Y/n’s refusal to pose for photos with fans in the paddock had always been a point of contention. While she understood that Lando’s fans were enthusiastic and kind-hearted, she never felt comfortable being asked for selfies every time she walked through the busy race venue. She wasn’t the one with the fans, and as far as she was concerned, her personal time was just that—personal.

But the backlash grew. Fans began to call her rude. Entitled. Unappreciative of the opportunities her relationship with Lando afforded her. The media had a field day with her lack of smiles. Every time a photographer captured her walking with Lando or simply standing beside him in the paddock, the headlines were almost always the same: “Lando’s Girlfriend: Always Serious, Never Smiling.” Some outlets went so far as to suggest that Y/n was intentionally sabotaging Lando’s public image.

It was a Friday afternoon, and they had just arrived at the Belgian Grand Prix. Y/n had been to a few races by this point, and while she was more used to the frenzy, the incessant flashes of cameras still made her anxious. She was still adjusting to the idea that she was now part of Lando’s world in such a public way. As they walked hand-in-hand through the paddock, Y/n was immediately surrounded by photographers.

“Y/n! Lando! Over here! Smile for the cameras!” one of the photographers yelled.

Y/n tried her best to remain composed. She knew that it wasn’t Lando’s fault, that he had no control over the photographers or the paparazzi. But she couldn’t help but feel exposed. She hadn’t asked for this. She hadn’t asked to be put in the limelight simply by virtue of being with him.

Lando sensed her discomfort, and he immediately squeezed her hand, gently pulling her closer to him. “Don’t let them get to you,” he whispered, his voice a comforting reminder of the love they shared.

But the cameras continued to click relentlessly. Lando, ever the professional, smiled and waved at the photographers, but Y/n remained stoic. She had learned not to smile for the sake of it. To her, it felt like a performance, and she didn’t want to put on an act just to appease the expectations of others.

The weekend only escalated from there. Every time they were photographed, the headlines were the same: “Lando’s Girlfriend Refuses to Smile,” or “Why Won’t Y/n Take Pictures with Fans?”

It reached a boiling point during a press conference. Lando was answering questions from journalists about the upcoming race. As usual, there were a few questions about her, and it was clear that the media wanted to know more about her and her “attitude” toward the constant attention.

One journalist, seemingly fed up with the idea that Y/n wouldn’t smile, asked pointedly, “Lando, do you think your girlfriend could work on smiling more? It’s hard to like someone who looks so miserable all the time.”

Lando’s response was swift and unwavering. “I don’t think she needs to smile for anyone but herself. Y/n is not here for the cameras. She’s here to support me and enjoy the race. If she’s not smiling, it’s because she doesn’t feel like it, and that’s perfectly fine.” He turned to the journalist, his voice firm but calm. “She’s a person, not a prop for your photo opportunities.”

The room fell silent. The journalists exchanged glances, but they knew better than to challenge Lando when he was in defense mode.

Over the next few days, the criticisms continued. Online forums, news articles, and even some fans in the paddock kept calling Y/n out for her “attitude.” They didn’t understand why she wouldn’t smile. Why she wouldn’t take a picture with every single fan who asked.

But Lando continued to defend her at every turn.

On race weekends, he would take to social media to post a message of support for Y/n. “She doesn’t owe anyone a smile or a photo,” he would tweet. “She’s here to support me, not be a circus act for your entertainment.”

The support from Lando was unwavering, but even he couldn’t stop the online hate. It became more than just a matter of photographers and fans—it was now a battle in the court of public opinion. And Y/n couldn’t help but feel the weight of it all.

One evening, after a particularly brutal round of online criticism, Y/n sat in the hotel room, staring at her phone. Lando was out at dinner with some of the team members, and she found herself scrolling through comment after comment.

“I hate how she treats Lando. She never smiles. She’s so selfish.”

“She looks like she doesn’t even care about him.”

Y/n felt tears welling up in her eyes. Why couldn’t they understand? She loved Lando more than anything in the world. But the constant pressure to perform for the cameras, to always be happy for the sake of others, was draining her.

When Lando returned to the hotel, he immediately noticed her red-rimmed eyes. He sat beside her on the bed, his hand gently resting on her back.

“What’s going on, babe?” he asked softly.

Y/n shook her head, trying to brush off her emotions. “It’s just… It’s just a lot sometimes.”

Lando didn’t need her to explain further. He already knew. He had seen it all—the criticism, the constant online hate, the pressure on her to smile and perform. And he hated it.

“Y/n,” he began, his voice full of conviction, “you don’t owe anyone anything. You don’t owe the photographers, the fans, or the media a single thing. You’re here with me because you want to be, not because you have to be. And if you don’t want to smile, then don’t smile. If you don’t want to take a picture with someone, then don’t.”

Y/n looked at him, her eyes filled with a mixture of relief and gratitude. “But it feels like everyone expects me to be someone I’m not. I can’t make them understand.”

“I know, babe,” Lando said, kissing the top of her head. “But they don’t get a say in who you are. Only we do.”

And for the first time in a long while, Y/n felt a weight lift off her shoulders. She wasn’t alone in this. Lando had her back, and that was all that mattered.

As they sat together in the quiet of the hotel room, Y/n knew that it wouldn’t always be easy. The scrutiny would never truly stop, but as long as Lando was by her side, she would face it with strength.

Together, they were a team. And that was all that mattered.

[wonderjanga]

Little Billy the Assistant

Zatanna was looking for the Champion. She’d wanted to ask for his help procuring an ingredient for a potion. All she expected was a short trip and maybe adventure. What she didn’t expect was running into a magically gifted orphan homeless looking kid.

Zatanna: *takes a detour a cramped street with a bunch of stalls selling stuff*

Billy: *ahead of her, heads to a gate leading to an alley, looks around for a bit before literally melting the lock off*

Zatanna: *sees this and stares*

Billy: *casts one more glance back before nearly feeling his soul leave his body at the sight of her looking at him*

He looked just as surprised to see her as she was to see him. Zatanna thought he was scared because he got caught by someone using magic in public. Billy was actually scared because she saw his civilian form do magic. Because what if she connected it back to Cap or something?!

Anyways, they made an uncomfortable amount of eye contact from across the street before Billy bolted into the alley. She tried to follow, but the crowd of the cramped street kept getting in her way, and by the time she got to the alley he was gone. Having lost him, she decided to ask Cap about the little boy about a week later when they were both at the Watchtower after he’d helped her find the ingredient she’d wanted. As for why it took a week for her to find him and ask for help? Billy had been avoiding her. Anyways…

Zatanna: “Cap, have you seen this little kid running around?”

Marvel: *immediately knew she was probably talking about him* “You’re going to have to be more specific than that Zatanna.”

Zatanna: “Okay… this little blue eyed black haired short little thing, maybe nine or 10-”

Marvel: *a little offended because he’s 12*

Zatanna: “-I saw him do magic the other day so he’s magical too. You know anything about him?”

Marvel: “Maybe? Why do you care about him?”

Zatanna: “Because recently I’ve had this idea of maybe having a little stage assistant.”

Marvel: “I thought you said you never wanted to share the spotlight or something?”

Zatanna: “That is true, but he was adorable! And I’m pretty sure he was also homeless.”

Marvel: *doesn’t know how to feel about being called adorable* “So…?”

Zatanna: “So he’d become my assistant and learn how to do his magic better since I doubt he has a teacher if I’m right about him being homeless. There’s also the added bonus of earning money which will benefit whether or not he actually is homeless.”

Marvel: *was prepared to say yes as soon as he heard money* “I’ll talk to him about it.”

Zatanna: “Oh? So you do know him.”

Marvel: “Maybe.”

Zatanna: “Maybe?”

Marvel: “Maybe. By the way, I’m pretty sure that kid you’re talking about has a job as a radio show host so he might not accept your offer if it conflicts with his schedule.”

Zatanna: “Radio show host? That’s a little retro, no? Buuuuuut… if he’s a show host, that at least means he has some pizzazz, so he could probably be good on stage too! As for the schedule thing, I mostly do night shows so he should be good.”

Billy mulled over this decision for many(two) days before deciding he’d accept her offer. As Cap, he told her to meet Billy at a popular street.

Billy: *waiting near a fountain and contemplating every decision he made up until his*

Zatanna: “Ah, it’s you! I assume Cap told you about my offer?”

Billy: “Yes? Could we uh… talk more about what the job would be like?”

Zatanna: “Of course! But first, let’s get some food in you.”

Billy: “What? Why?”

Zatanna: “Bud, you’re practically skin and bones.”

Billy: “Oh.” *sounds upset*

Zatanna: “Hey, hey, hey! No need to get upset! Try to think of the positives! I’m getting you food!”

They went to a little diner and ate while discussing all the things. What his job as an assistant would be, his pay, and so on.

Zatanna: “You sure know how to talk business, little guy.”

Billy: “Thank you…?” *sounds confused*

Zatanna: “I meant that in a good way.”

Billy: “Oh. Thanks then.” *smiles*

Zatanna: *just barely resists the urge to pinch his cheeks*

Zatanna stand by the fact that this kid was, in fact, incredibly adorable. Such a cutie honestly. And he’s such a sweetheart, too. After this meeting, they met up a couple more times, so Billy could rehearse being her assistant before he actually went on stage. Then the day came that he finally had to do his job…

Billy and Zatanna: *standing behind a curtain on stage*

Billy: “Uhm… Ms. Zatanna?”

Zatanna: “Yes?”

Billy: “What happens if I’m not good at being an assistant?”

Zatanna: *pauses to think* “Well, you’d stop, but I’d still continue trying to help you with your magic.”

Billy: “You mean that?” *just happy she wouldn’t immediately kick him to the curb*

Zatanna: “Of course.” *again has to resist pinching his cheeks*

The curtains soon opened after that conversation. The show must go on!

I’ll leave it up to you guys on whether he did good or not.

[str1wberry7thyme]

Martyn saying that the watchers hate love the most out of all emotions with zero pauses on this mornings lore stream is driving me crazy because it’s explains. Everything.

The way they made sure Grian was still miserable even after winning third life because they wouldn’t let him enjoy a win with his partner that he spent the whole season intrinsically attached to. How silly was he to forget, he still needed to kill Scar.

Scott ending last life with nothing but bad blood between his two closest allies that continued on across multiple seasons, and still hasn’t truly been fully resolved in wild life either.

Pearl winning Double life, the season about soulmates and what should be filled with love, completely by herself. And in the end when she realises she doesn’t truly hate or want revenge against Scott, only wanting him to understand her like he used to, it was too late. The watchers were never going to allow two winners. They wanted soulmates to rip each other apart in the end, almost like they wanted to make a point that you are better off alone in their world this way.

Martyn used his alliances to his advantage and immediately betrayed his mean gill that he did care for in his own way because he knew that’s what it took to win these games. Exactly how the watchers wanted.

Scar was so confused, so shocked when he realised the man without any friends had been “rewarded” for it in the end by being crowned the winner. But that’s not what he wanted for himself, he wanted to be nothing but a good person but every task he was given forced him into antagonising others and made sure there was no love left for him in the end. He can’t believe how this is possible.

..But then comes Joel and his stupid car. Joel and Gem and their stupid family. Joel and his stupid decision to hold his anger and forgive others instead. Joel and his stupid win that had even the ghosts of the dead full of joy for him. Joel and his stupid victory that actually felt like a victory for the first time in the series. Joel and the way he stupidly killed what was basically a walking symbol of the watchers with a laugh. I wouldn’t be surprised if the watchers hate to see him coming.

[thoughtfulfiction]

The Game Plan

Author’s note: Merry Christmas Bolt fam🩵Still working on rewrites but I needed to write something new to get inspired. I am done with school so I’ll hopefully be able to get fics out more often!

Last time he was this nervous, he stood on shaky legs in front of a New York crowd accepting the William V. Campbell trophy. Public speaking wasn’t his favorite thing in the world and he hated talking about himself. But this was about a hundred times more important. And more nerve wracking.

When Justin suggested flying to your hometown to spend some time with your parents, you didn’t bat an eye. You’d been talking about making a trip back home after the season was over and were elated to discover that he was on the same page. Now that the time had come and you were looking at him as he drove the rental car to your family home, you couldn't help but think maybe he was regretting his decision. The man was constantly fidgeting in his seat, his grip on the steering wheel tight, eyes full of stress and semi concern.

"You okay?" You furrowed your eyebrows at him, urging your boyfriend to let you in on whatever was causing him such turmoil.

"What? Oh yeah no, I'm fine." He knew that sounded less than convincing. "It's just weird with the season being over. Almost like I have to learn how to relax again. This week will be good though."

Nodding in understanding, you place a hand on his leg hoping that the simple touch will ease his mind. Little did you know he was in the midst of a huge inner crisis. Justin rehearsed what he was going to say a few more times before pulling into your parent's driveway. Swallowing down his nerves, he grabbed your suitcase and his, walking toward the front door feeling like his legs weighed a ton each.

Your mom had already taken you away to the kitchen by the time he walked in, immediately lost in conversation about work and life while your dad grabbed one of the bags out of Justin's hands. The two men trudged up the stairs to drop off the bags, exchanging pleasantries and getting settled in before heading to the backyard to cook. Your dad loved Justin. He was the perfect partner for you, a perfect mix of fun/exciting and responsible/caring. He had seen you fall more and more in love with the quarterback over the years which made it easy to love him too. And getting to talk about football all day with someone who actually valued such intimate conversations about the sport helped.

All of the distracting small talk was out of the way, Justin had complimented your dad on his new grill and the improvements he'd made on the backyard and they had unpacked some of the nitty gritty details of the season and who your dad thought they should draft as perfect additions to the roster for the next season and the only thing that remained was the pit of nerves in his stomach that hadn't disappeared since boarding the plane.

"Something on your mind?" Your dad was observant, not really one to beat around the bush. He'd noticed a slight edge to Justin's voice since the two of you had arrived and was really trying to wait to give him some time. He'd obviously gotten too impatient. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

Justin's had relationships before. Not many times, but he's felt security and love in other people, seeing a future with them and thought about what the rest of his life would look like. Being with you was not only the most serious relationship he'd ever been in but he found himself constantly planning for the future and setting his family up for long-term success, a family that he now couldn't envision without you. He swallowed thickly, suddenly overcome with emotion at the words that he needed to express to your father. "There is something on my mind actually," he clears his throat, trying really hard to maintain eye contact and not look down at the grill. "I wanted to come here first thing to ask you for your permission."

"My...permission?"

"Your permission, your blessing. Either one. Or both." Your boyfriend rambles on nervously, the words tumbling out of his mouth completely out of order and unlike anything he’d just spent time practicing.

Your dad still looks at him, confused. Justin sighs, "I love your daughter more than anything in the world. She’s the greatest thing in my life and I never thought I’d have the opportunity to be with someone so special. Now that I’ve gotten to be with her I don’t ever want to let her go and...it's really important for me to ask you before I propose."

In that moment it all begins to click and your dad nods. Here was one of the most calm and collected quarterbacks in the NFL stumbling over his words out of nerves because he wanted to ask for permission before getting engaged. A man who's build could arguably be compared to ancient Greek deities was a mere mortal when it came to you and it took every ounce of your dad's strength not to crack a smile. "You came all this way to ask me if you can marry my daughter. So you could do this in person?" The younger man nods. "Before I answer, can you promise me one thing?"

"Anything." Justin says without hesitation. He didn't care what he had to do, he just knew he was going to do it no matter what it took.

Your dad looks toward the house, watching you and your mom laughing while getting the sides set on the table. He looks back at Justin, eyes brimming with tears. "She is my greatest treasure. Promise me you will treat her like nothing less than that."

"I will sir, you have my word."

Justin holds out a hand and your dad pulls him in for a hug. "Welcome to the family son," patting him on the back. The quarterback swore he heard a crack in the other man’s voice but said nothing.

You watched the exchange from the kitchen, slightly confused because your dad didn't exactly give out free hugs like they were Halloween candy. "What is happening out there?"

Your mom catches her husband's eye at the end of the hug, seeing him point at his ring finger and trying to contain her excitement. "I'm sure it's nothing," she smiles, handing you another plate to set on the table, "Justin probably asked him if he wants to golf tomorrow. You know he's been trying to get more into it and bringing an NFL quarterback in front of all of his friends is definitely going to boost his confidence." The two of you stood in silence for a bit until you seemed satisfied with that answer and the two men were back inside, immediately distracting you from asking any further questions as conversation flowed as the food and wine were consumed. Justin helped your mom wash the dishes that night, deep in some secret conversation filled with sporadic giggles and all you could think about was how lucky you were to find someone that fit in so seamlessly. Little did you know they were planning a surprise that you'd never forget.

Step one? Find the perfect ring.

"Isabella, I need a favor," Justin takes a seat at the counter next to his sister-in-law. "You need to distract y/n for a couple hours so I can go through her phone."

Placing her own phone down, she looks at him like he's grown another head. "Why in the hell would I do that? Why would YOU do that?” The more she talks the more visibly upset she looks and Justin is severely regretting not being more specific.

“It’s—it’s not what you think. I just—”

She holds up a finger to keep him from explaining himself any more. “I just want you to know that I’m never thought you’d be one of those people and it’s really disappointing.”

He sighs, looking around to make sure that you aren’t walking in any time soon. “I heard you guys talking last week. About how you had a bunch of videos in your Tik Tok likes that helped you plan your wedding. Then she mentioned that she’s been saving some rings that she thinks would look good on her and I need to see those. So I can design the best ring.”

The tension in her body is instantly released and her features are filled with relief. She holds a hand over her mouth to hide a happy squeal before taking a moment to compose herself so she doesn’t give anything away when she sees you. “You’re proposing,” she whispers leaning in close so no one else can hear.

He leans in too, a wide grin on his face. “I’m proposing.”

“I’ll keep her busy,” she promises, giving him a fist bump.

A girls only DIY spa night in gave him the perfect outlet to grabbing your phone. As soon as the cucumber slices were on your eyelids and Isabella gave him the sign, your cellphone was in his hand and he got to work. He screenshotted 13 different ring designs, jotting down some notes in his own phone, looking at various ring styles and the cut that would best match the style that you were looking for. Then he jotted down some local jewelers to visit and design the ring in person, going as far as flying your best friend to Oregon for a few days under false pretenses that she had a work trip in the area and decided to stay at the ranch since it was nicer than a hotel.

Approximately four weeks after his initial meeting with the jeweler, Justin held the velvet box in his hands and admired everyone’s hard work. He’d had a hand in designing every crevice of the ring that looked much smaller in between his fingers as he examined the diamond. Fresh nerves were beginning to set in as the moment became more and more tangible and real. Once he found a secure spot to hide the ring, he moved forward with the next part of his master plan.

Step two? Come up with proposal ideas.

The beautiful thing about the offseason was that you still had to work remotely, so you’d be in your office in one corner of the house and after his morning workout he had all the free time in the world. The bad thing about that was that he had all this free time to sit and think about how he was going to set up an unforgettable proposal. Luckily, some of his receivers had come down for a Nike promo event and to throw so he had people to bounce ideas off of.

“What about this? I take her to Sofi and propose in the middle of the stadium with just the two of us. We have the video board showing monumental moments of our relationship and as she’s watching I just get down on a knee.”

Ladd takes a sip of water, making eye contact with Derius, who says nothing. Justin continues pacing, taking the collective silence as a sign to suggest something else.

“Don’t everyone jump up at once,” he lets out a nervous laugh, wracking his brain. “Maybe I could drive us to Napa Valley with dinner and some music?” That suggestion earned more interaction, some guys nodded, recalling their own proposals and having him take some pointers from their experiences. There was a time where he couldn’t log onto Instagram without seeing one of his teammates getting engaged and the only thing that made him more nervous than proposing was the media circus that would result from the news getting out. Yes, he wanted it to be special and intimate but the thought of the social media team getting their hands on it and invading your privacy was a little scary. Somehow he had to push that thought out of his mind and tackle one problem at a time.

“Private beach proposal in Hawaii?”

Simi stands up at the suggestion, placing a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Sounds beautiful in theory, but aren’t you scared of having the ring so close to the water?”

“Yeah what if you’re so nervous that you drop the box and it’s washed away by the tide,” Ladd notes. “The less distracting things around you the better. Helps you focus on just her.”

“I don’t think that’ll be a problem, he’s obsessed,” Patrick says, walking by just to chastise his brother. Justin flips him off without uttering a word, an unwavering focus on the task at hand.

Nothing seemed right, some ideas were too flashy, too cheesy. He wanted to show you how much you meant to him, how you’d changed his perspective on life and balancing work and your relationship. That it was possible to do both because the right person brings things out of you that you didn’t even know where there. How do you encompass all of those feelings into one perfect location?

“I’m not gonna lie,” Simi says, voice full of sincerity. “You gotta let the perfect time come to you, you’ll know when the time is right. Trust me.”

Justin had no other choice at this point. He spent the next few weeks holding onto the ring, desperately looking for the right time. Spending all this time stressing and planning and plotting had really taken him away from you. There was an unspoken distance between the two of you and it had become increasingly upsetting. Even when you were in the same room it felt like he was miles away, stuck in his own head, shutting you out completely. You were starting to think that he was looking for a way out and couldn’t decide on a way to let you down easy. The thought of him tip toeing around a breakup made you nauseous.

“Why haven’t you done it yet? You can’t keep putting this off forever,” you heard Mitch say one morning after you came home earlier than expected from an in-person work meeting. Usually you wouldn’t eavesdrop, but Justin’s behavior hadn’t exactly given you a vote of confidence in the state of your relationship. You couldn’t even really remember the last time you went on a date without him looking like he was seconds away from getting sick.

Justin on the other hand had spent every dinner date thinking about whether or not this was the moment. Walking around with the ring in his pocket everywhere he went just in case, deathly afraid of you finding it on accident. That thought alone, of him walking in the house to you holding that ring box not only made him want to cry a little at the ruined surprise but also make him feel like throwing up. And he was tired of hearing everyone and their mom ask him when he was going to pull the trigger and propose.

Especially when he felt like it was happening every single day.

“I’m not putting it off! I just—this is harder than I thought. It’s not just something to check off the to-do list. I gotta do it right or I’m not doing it at all.”

He felt so bad about dumping you that he was putting it off…so he could do it the right way? What even is the right way to end a relationship? You didn’t want to stick around to find out, making your way back outside to sit in your car and think about your next move.

“Justin is planning on dumping me.” You sighed into the phone, calling your best friend.

“What? Where did you get that from?”

You spent the next 20 minutes explaining to her all the signs. His weird behavior, always on his phone but will never let you see what he’s doing or who he’s talking to. You feel like he’s hiding something but he makes sure to only give you minor details saying he’s planning a trip with the guys or talking to his agent about taking on different endorsements. It all just seems too fishy. Why is he torturing you like this by stringing you along? Should you just break up with him first?

“You have to act normal like you don’t suspect anything,” you hear at the other end of the line. Her voice is calm and reassuring which is nice because the last thing you needed to hear was that she didn’t believe you. “If he’s breaking up with you then let him explain him himself. Justin has never been someone to do things without a purpose and you know he’d never do anything knowing that it would hurt you.”

She had a point. “Fine. You’re right, I’ll hear him out and figure it out after I gather all the information. Thank you for talking me off the ledge.”

“You’re welcome.” As soon as you hung up the phone, your friend texted Justin that he should start acting a bit more casual because you were freaking out.

The next evening, he surprised you with a bonfire movie night.

“What’s all this?”

Justin pats the spot on the outdoor couch next to him, welcoming you to take a seat. “An apology? I’m sorry I’ve been off lately. There’s been a lot on my mind and I got so lost in my head that I’ve been neglecting you but that stops today. It had nothing to do with how I feel about you at all, you’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

“Care to share with the class what was bothering you for so long?”

You cuddle into his side, a sense of comfort immediately taking over the constant state of unease that previously surrounded you. Looking up at him, he places a gentle kiss on your lips, so soft it leaves you wanting more. “It doesn’t matter now, all that I care about,” he sneaks another kiss, “is being right here with you.”

“Well in that case,” you whisper, “we should make s’mores.”

Justin laughs, kissing you on the cheek and rising to his feet, helping you up before heading into the kitchen. The tray on the counter was loaded with various snack items, Reese’s cups, pretzels and strawberries along with normal s’more ingredients. As you made your way back to the bonfire and began to dig in, a thought popped into your mind while enjoying the stillness.

“We can’t do things like this in LA. You can’t beat the scenery out there and the background noise of the traffic isn’t exactly the most romantic.”

He looks up at the sky full of stars, remembering exactly why he bought land out here in the first place. “I’ve always thought about raising our future kids here. Los Angeles is where I work but this is home, they can grow up and be normal kids here. Play outside, go fishing, experience a childhood that has lasting memories. Not sitting in traffic for hours and never seeing a real tree.”

“Our kids?”

“Yeah,” he says without hesitation. “I think about Coach getting our son his first pair of khakis.”

You laugh, picturing it in your head, “and he’d probably get our daughter a custom pair of cleats to wear pregame.”

“Exactly,” he throws his head back to laugh at the image of mini versions of you and him being spoiled by his head coach. He grabs another strawberry, dipping it in the melted chocolate and feeding it to you. “How many kids do you want?”

“Let’s say it at the same time.”

He counts down from five, saying “three” at the same time you do.

Looking at each other in shock, you burst into laughter at the fact that you have identical answers despite the fact that you’d never openly spoken about it. You each knew the other wanted children but just didn’t know exactly how many. Justin felt like his heart might burst with an uncomfortable and overwhelming amount of happiness. If it wasn’t clear then, it is now.

There, in that moment, nothing seemed more perfect. He looked down at your hands, spotting the manicure you’d gotten last week before attending a wedding. Simi’s words came flooding back, you’ll know when the time is right.

And that time was right now.

“I’m gonna head inside and grab another water, do you want anything?”

“I think I’m okay. Thank you though,” you barely acknowledged the exchange, wrapped up in finding the perfect movie to watch as you scrolled through all the streaming services. Today, the most simply normal day was about to be extraordinary and his feet couldn’t carry him inside fast enough to grab the ring.

His heart was beating in his ears walking back outside. He clears his throat to get your attention and the look on his face makes you stand. “What happened?”

“I spent so long trying to create the perfect moment. But I just realized that every moment with you is perfect.”

Your voice catches in your throat and you’re forced to speak in a hushed tone. “What are you doing?”

He takes a deep breath, holding the box firmly in his hand. “I love you. You’re the one I want to build a home with, create a family with, grow old with and everything in between that this life has to offer. I’m sorry it took me so long, that I spent so much time trying to capture some picturesque scene that we’ll remember forever. You and I, right here is memorable. Being with you is all I’ve ever need, all I’ll ever need. For the rest of my life.” He opens the box and you audibly gasp, everything in your body tingling and buzzing with excitement. Everything made sense now, his nerves, the secrecy…everything. He was trying to make all of your dreams come true.

Holding your hand in one and the box in the other, he gets down on one knee. “Will you make me the happiest man in the world, will you marry me?”

“Yes,” you respond immediately, sounding out of breath while wiping a tear from your eye. “A thousand times yes, of course I’ll marry you!” Sliding the ring that fits exactly like it was tailored to your finger, he stands up and wraps his arms around you, a small tear escaping him.

Justin kisses you, a passionate deep kiss, relieved that everything had gone even better than he’d imagined, pulling you in so close that you can feel his steady heartbeat. His movements were long and slow, a slight grin against your lips as you give into belonging to each other. Lost in paradise he leaned his forehead against yours, both of your eyes still closed in awe that this actually just happened.

“Here’s to a lifetime of perfect moments and sometimes the best plan is no plan. I love you Justin, this is amazing I couldn’t ask for anything more incredible.” You pulled away, opening your eyes to look at your hand. “And this ring? You’re crazy.”

“I am crazy. Crazy about you,” he kisses you on the forehead, running his hand across your fingers. “I love you so much, fiancée.”

[devildomwriter]

Jolly Old St Nick | Solomon x Reader

1.2K Word Count | GN! Reader | Fluff, Humor | CW: none? Magic shenanigans

You’d never been so relaxed while in such a crowded place. You held Solomon’s hand tightly as he slowly walked from booth to booth at the Christmas market.

When Solomon called you away on business, he’d done so specifically to stop the brothers from following you on what was actually a surprise date.

You like Solomon so you didn’t mind the surprise date but you were shocked at how good of a job he’d done choosing locations.

A world-famous Christmas market hadn’t been your first idea for a holiday-timed date but he was fully prepared to buy you anything that caught your attention so you weren’t complaining about the crowds.

“Look, ___, they’re making candy canes,” he pointed out the booth next to you and you stood on your tip-toes to sneak a look as the sugar was poured into the molds.

“Are they all made like that?” You asked aloud and he proceeded to give you a more in-depth explanation than you were expecting. Even the booth owner looked shocked by his expertise and appeared to quickly be taking notes on his phone.

You pulled Solomon away from the candy canes after he bought a few to a booth with glass blowers who were making custom Christmas ornaments.

“Blowing glass art, it’s been such a long time since I’ve seen anyone do it. It’s still as incredible as it was thousands of years ago,” he sighed nostalgically and got a few curious looks.

You gave him a cautious look and he laughed and patted your back. “Ah, there’s no need to worry now. No one would believe me anyway.” He made a valid point so you decided to have fun with it instead.

“Did you ever meet Saint Nick?” You asked him as you clutched the paper bag with your glass ornaments.

Solomon laughed and stopped walking, “would you believe me if I told you I am him.”

You ran into somebody in Sienese and dropped your delicate bag. “Oh!”

Solomon quickly caught it before it hit the icy stone path. You breathed a sigh of relief and he chose to hold onto it instead. A wise decision from the wise king himself.

“There’s no way. You just snuck into people’s houses and gave them stuff?”

“Well, sort of. I’m certainly not the only one who did something like that but when I came into my power more I experimented with it a little and tried teleporting small things. Every so often if I overheard a family wasn’t doing well, their child especially, I’d place something small and fun in their drying clothes.”

You shook your head in disbelief. “So…you’re a king of ancient times, a sorcerer, and Santa Clause? All in one, huh?”

Solomon laughed it off and shrugged. “I wouldn’t say ancient…”

“That’s the part you disagree with?”

You laughed at Solomon and you both continued through the Christmas market. You found a few cute items for everyone. A hand-stitched angel ornament that reminded you of Luke, a hand-carved wooden cow from a nativity scene (Belphegor didn’t need to know that part), an antique metallic Christmas tree from a fad decades past, and a fancy leather belt you thought would be perfect for Thirteen.

Solomon found a booth with kettle corn and immediately purchased some while you found a free bench. As soon as you sat down a distraught woman sat next to you on the phone while the kid held onto her leg looking like they’d cried for a long time.

You knew it wasn’t your business but as soon as she hung up the phone you had to pry. Just to see if you could help them.

“I’m sorry for intruding but…is something wrong?” You asked.

The mom looked slightly annoyed to be asked as she’d been through enough but the child quickly fessed up. “My doggy,” he trembled and his mother quickly picked him up and sat him in her lap to coddle him.

“Did your doggy go missing?” You asked as Solomon approached you from behind.

“Oh dear, did he?” Solomon asked with a frown.

The mother shook her head. “It’s his stuffed animal. I told him not to bring it,” she began but the indication it was his fault brought a wave of tears from the young child so she stopped herself.

You thought about it for a moment and looked at Solomon who nodded with a similar idea. “Do you have a picture?”

The mother shook her head, “It’s okay. Really,” she dismissed but you shook your head.

“I happen to be a private investigator, mam. I’m pretty good at finding things. If you hand a picture, I promise you’ll have that dog back in the hour.”

She looked horrified you’d made such a promise with her son in earshot but Solomon nodded confirming the same thing.

Reluctantly she took out her phone and found a picture. The dog appeared to be handmade and well-loved.

You nodded and took off into the crowd with Solomon to keep an eye on the woman.

After searching for a while using a tracking spell you had no luck so you texted Solomon for help. He sent you a laughing emoji which frustrated you and then sent you a spell you hadn’t tried before and asked you to recite it out of sight.

You slipped away into a dark alley behind some booths and recited the spell with the stuffed animal in mind and it materialized in front of you. You gasped and caught it before it hit the ground.

It was identical to the photo. You weren’t sure if you summoned it or made it but either way, you knew a little boy was about to be very happy.

You quickly rushed back to the bench and the mother’s eyes widened when she saw you.

The little boy sprang free from her arms and ran to you to quickly hug his beloved stuffed dog.

“You actually found it!” The mother gasped and looked teary-eyed. “I can’t thank you enough. What do I owe you?”

You shook your head, “I’m Santa’s helper, Mam, I find kids their toys for free, it’s part of my job.”

Suddenly you heard a laugh from Solomon and gave him a puzzled look.

“Time to go,” he said quickly and you walked his way as a man called out to the mother and son.

“Honey I found the dog, it was by the vending machine still—huh?”

The family looked at the dog in the dad’s hands to the one in the boys and to you and Solomon smiling like nothing weird just happened.

“How did you…this dog was hand-made by my mother…she died last year…” The woman was too shocked to say more and her husband stood there silently bewildered.

“Umm…merry Christmas from Saint Nick!” you said and grabbed Solomon’s hand running away as quickly as you could as he laughed loudly.

“Shut up Solomon! Didn’t that break some kind of rule!?” You exclaimed and he shook his head.

“Who cares? You magically created the exact toy a child wanted. I think that makes you a st nick just like me,” he chucked and you rolled your eyes.

“Give me the scarf. I want to look around more but now I need to hide my face.”

Solomon continued to laugh at you the rest of your date at the Christmas market.

Sure enough, the story of the two stuffed dogs made it to the local news as a Christmas miracle from one of Santa’s mysterious helpers.

[irndad]

Christmas Wrapping- a.h.

a/n: i'm back and this is sad (no, really, it's a sad christmas fic. merry crisis!! also writing this made me think of @hotchfiles lol- lari i hope u like it <3 summary: 2 years ago, hotch broke up with a lovely but eccentric woman, and is thinking about this while attending a christmas party.

It’s Christmas, and it’s New York, and Aaron doesn’t want to be here. 

He always feels guilty when he misses Christmases with Jack, and it’s painful to admit that it’s happened more than once. He’d been understanding, but Jack is almost ten now, and the resentment in his voice is subtle, but sometimes Aaron could swear he could hear Haley’s voice in it. 

This dinner wasn’t optional- a director that was above him mentioned that if he wanted his career to advance, he couldn’t afford not to attend events like tonight. Which as far as thiny veiled threats go, is one of the lease concealed ones he’s received in a good bit. 

New York always makes him think of her. Even though their relationship ended two years prior, she sticks in his mind like a song, the melody never quite getting to be grating. She’d loved being called his girlfriend, and Aaron had loved the way she loved it. She was younger than him, by a little over a half-decade. But still, she’d worn it better than he had. He still remembers the sight of her, meeting him at his office (never inside, lest the team tease him endlessly), in her green shoes and multicolored scarf, hair in a clip that had been lazily thrown up, and a smile that dazzled him. 

“Are you ready, Mr. Hotchner?” he remembers her saying, on the other side of a memory lit in warm, glowy lights. 

“I don’t think I can endorse whatever you have planned for me.” He’d replied back in jest at the time. 

The walk from his hotel to the host of the party’s home is cold. He think it might be colder in Quantico, but his memory feels colder and seeps into his bones. 

He might’ve married her, Aaron muses to himself. It all feels so silly to think about. But she was hard not to think about when she was his to ponder over, and she sticks in the back of his mind even after he had made he decision not to. 

She’d been generous with him, the entirety of it all. Gentle with him when he mentioned that he wasn’t ready to tell the team, even if she’d known that he hadn’t waited eight months with Beth. More than that, she was beautiful. not just in her appearance, which was lovely in and of itself, but in how she carried herself. Warm, and kind- Jack would’ve loved her. 

He thinks of her laugh, how she’d picked off all of the salmon roe on their fancy 5 month anniversary dinner, and eaten the meal without it- how she booked Amtraks to visit family, because it gave her more time to read on the way, and no one would make her drive once she got there. How she traced hearts into his wrist when  she could tell he was anxious, read him like a book he never gave anyone permission to see. Loving her was a pleasure, an indulgment. An expensive wine sipped with leisure. 

A honk of a cab shakes him out of his memories, but it doesn’t stick. She’d loved Brooklyn, loud cabs and overpriced brownstones all the same. Sometimes, when doing monotonous paperwork, he’d fantasize about buying her one, a new home in her dream city, Jack and maybe a sister. 

The way it had fallen apart was one of the least proud moments of his life. Because she was different- not polished, or withdrawn in how she carried herself. It was what made her a pleasure to know- she smiled with her whole face, hugged people like she knew they might need it, wore her favorite colors because she wanted to see them whenever she passed a mirror. And he was a behavior analyst. 

“Could I meet your friends?” he’d frozen, when he’d heard it. Her voice was soft, like she was nervous. “I know you were wanting to wait, but you know- you’ve met my graduate school friends. They were thoroughly impressed.”

He didn’t feel impressive to them, and he suspects she might be being kind in this moment. 

“I just think you wouldn’t like them, honey.” He feels rotten lying to her, but the idea of it- of the team knowing that she is the person he loves- it feels like a magnifying glass under the sun. 

“I find that hard to believe, Aaron. And either way, I’m telling you, it would mean the world to me to know them.” 

He’d been backed into a corner, he’ll tell himself, later. This will be a lie, and it’ll be a lie he knows, even as he tells himself it. 

“I just think we shouldn’t do that until we’re sure about eachother.”

The silence that had followed felt chasms wide. She’d been silent in front of him before- when he’d come to her apartment too tired to speak but still needing to be held, and she’d lit a candle and massaged his hands, easing the carpal tunnel from writing paperwork. Or when she held his hand waiting for Jack’s results, when he’d gotten a fever they hadn’t been able to shake. This silence was different. Long and dissapointed, and Aaron felt like he couldn’t breathe under the shame of it. He watched her wipe a single tear from her eye, and grab her novel that had been sitting on his coffee table for the last six months. 

“I can’t make you sure about me, Aaron. I don’t really want to try.” 

It had ended like that. Reminiscing on the whole affair had made the walk feel short, although he could feel a tear welling in his eyes. His body knew her absence, and still does. Even now, walking to this party he doesn’t want to go to, he imagines what it would be like to have the shape of her pressed into the side of it. 

Aaron thinks to himself, before buzzing into the building, that he wasn’t ashamed of her. He’d wondered since the end of the first relationship he’d felt held in, if he left it because he was ashamed. But he wasn’t. He was unwilling to submit to the plain, unmediated joy of her touch. 

He was almost done ruminating on this, until he knocked on the door, and there she was. 

Aaron- he almost wonders if he’s hallucinating, because there she is. And she’s fucking gorgeous. She always is, but she’s so lovely tonight. Maybe it’s the fact he hasn’t seen her in so long, or maybe it’s just that she is that lovely, but the warm light of the party and Christmas Wrapping playing in the background- she looks like vision plucked from a movie. 

She’d kissed him at midnight to this song, once. 

Now, she’s beaming at him, opening her door to welcome him as a stranger into a party. 

“Aaron! Is that you?” it’s a physiological response, the jump in his chest, when she says his name. “My god, it’s so good to see your face!” 

She hugs him, and she still wears the same perfume. Her arms are warm and her face is in his chest, and even though it’s less intimate than all the ways she’s held him before, it feels kind. 

“It’s so good to see you too- what are you doing here?”

It’s a blunt question, but she doesn’t seem to mind, as she ushers him into home. It’s a family apartment, old-school and clearly well-loved.

“My husband liasons with the FBI, actually! His boss said they needed a get-together space, and so we offered up our apartment. It’s cute, right?” she’d walked him right up to a man, wrapped her arms around his middle, before turning back to Hotch. “Peter, honey, this is my old friend, Aaron Hotchner! He works for the BAU.”

Husband. She has a husband. She is a beautiful woman, who he has had the honor to love, to run through the rain while laughing with, who is known and seen and loved by someone else. Hotch takes a look at her, really drinks in the sight. She’s got on a green sweater, new- he can tell by the shape of it. Earrings that seem like they’re gifts, and her hair’s pinned up lazily despite the occasion. 

She looks happy. 

“Oh hey! I’ve heard so much about you- I’m glad you were able to come!”

Peter has a wedding band on hsi left wrist, and Aaron can’t help but analyze him. He’s wearing an ill-fitting dress shirt and slacks, and Hotch thinks he might not have had too much choice in hosting. Owning real-estate is uncommon in New york, and your boss knowing you have a place to use might have been enough to strong arm him into using it. it’s a relative’s clothes, and it’s casual in a way that would suggest ease and friendless. An arm rests on the small of his wife’s waist. 

The whole rest of the night is a blur. Jealousy doesn’t feel like the right word for it- it feels uncanny, to see her so open and warm with a man who so unashamadly loves her. There’s engagement photos on the walls, and Aaron studies them like he’ll be tested. Maybe he’s testing himself. They’re not real photos, just a photobooth they’d gone too, her ring in the foreground of all of them. Peter is a wiry, thin, dark-haired brown-eyed man who is younger than Aaron, and a year older than her. 

He hears someone say they met in high school, and Hotch dimly wonders if he ever had a shot with her. He thinks this, while looking at a photo of the two of them at prom together (but not together). It’s self-comfort, he knows. Because she’d asked him, to take her seriously. 

She’s drinking grape juice, instead of champagne. Aaron thinks he knows why, from the way she runs a gentle hand over her stomach when she thinks no one’s looking, and how Peter’s eyes are always trained on her midsection.

He wishes he didn’t know how to be this observant. 

When the night ends, and Aaron comes back to Quantico, and people asks him how the party went, Aaron tells them it went well, and says that he saw an old friend who he’d missed a great deal out there. 

He figured it’s probably better to admit to loving her in some way, at some point. Even if it’s far, far too late. 

[bodyswap005]

"Crossed Wishes at Christmas"

Benny was a typical seventeen-year-old teenager, immature and somewhat stubborn. He was always in conflict with his parents, who insisted on keeping rules he considered absurd. His biggest frustration was not having the freedom to make his own decisions, especially when it came to hanging out with his friends or attending parties.

Although his life wasn’t particularly complicated, Benny felt trapped in a limbo between childhood and adulthood. His days were filled with school, video games, and attempts to catch the attention of a girl in his class he liked. However, behind his confident facade, Benny often felt insecure, desperately wishing to grow up and be treated like an adult.

In his family, Benny viewed the adults with a certain resentment, especially his uncle Valentín, the husband of his aunt Nath. While Valentín always seemed kind, Benny considered him boring, a man stuck in the responsibilities and monotony of adult life.

Valentín, forty-two years old, was an educated, calm, and reserved man. He had built a stable life with his wife Nath, but under that orderly and mature appearance hid a series of regrets that had haunted him since his youth.

During his adolescence, Valentín had grown up in a strict household where his parents controlled every aspect of his life. This had led him to suppress many of his emotions and desires, including his sexual orientation. He never allowed himself to be completely free, and although he had learned to live with that emptiness, he secretly wished he had made better use of his youth.

For Valentín, adulthood was a burden he bore with resignation. He envied his nephew Benny’s carefree attitude, although he also considered him an immature young man who couldn't appreciate what he had. Yet, beneath that criticism lay an unspoken connection: both shared the desire to live something different, though from opposite extremes.

Unknowingly, both were destined to discover what it truly meant to walk in the other’s shoes. And that Christmas, their wishes would change their lives forever.

From Benny’s perspective Christmas Eve had never been my favorite day. This year, even less. Everyone was in a good mood, but I couldn’t stop thinking about the party I was missing. My parents, with their absurd rules, had decided it was better to spend it with family than let me be with my friends. It wasn’t fair. I was seventeen, tired of being treated like a child, and on top of that, my Uncle Valentín kept looking at me as if all this was just a childish tantrum.

"When you’re an adult, you’ll see that this isn’t so important," he said in a patronizing tone that drove me crazy. I ignored him and focused on the one exciting part of the night: the moment to make a wish.

When it was my turn, I closed my eyes and made it with all my might: I want to be an adult. I want to stop following absurd rules.

From Valentín’s perspective I watched my nephew Benny as he made his wish by the tree. His frustration reminded me so much of myself at his age. But unlike him, I never dared to rebel. I always obeyed, always did what was expected of me, and that cost me living my adolescence and youth the way I truly wanted. I was a forty-two-year-old man trapped in a life that wasn’t entirely mine.

When it was my turn, I closed my eyes and wished for something I’d never say out loud: I want to be young again. I want another chance to live without fear.

From Benny’s perspective Christmas morning came with little excitement. I went downstairs, expecting the gifts I knew I would get: a new video game, probably some clothes, and maybe some money. But then I noticed a strange package, wrapped in shiny paper with a perfect red bow.

"Is this from you?" I asked my parents, lifting it curiously. They shook their heads, just as surprised as I was.

I went upstairs to my room with the package, eager to discover what it contained. When I opened it, I found clothes that weren’t for me: shirts, pants, even a yoga short. At the bottom, there was a note: "Sometimes, a new reflection shows you what you really need." I ignored it, thinking someone had made a mistake, but something about the clothes intrigued me.

From Valentín’s perspective Christmas at home with Nath was pleasant but routine. While she opened her gifts, my thoughts wandered until I noticed a strange package under the tree. The label simply read: "For Valentín."

I opened the gift, expecting something from her, but what I found left me confused: youthful clothes that weren’t my style or size. There were basic t-shirts, skinny jeans, and a pair of sneakers. Inside the box, a note read: "What you desire, you already have in front of you, but are you ready to take it?"

When I asked Nath if it was from her, she denied it with a puzzled smile. Something about the gift made me nervous, but I couldn’t resist the curiosity.

From Benny’s perspective I decided to try on the clothes, even though it didn’t make sense. I put on a dress shirt and some pants that were a bit too big. I looked at myself in the mirror, trying to imagine how I would look as an adult.

Suddenly, a strange sensation spread through my body. My legs grew weak, and a suffocating heat rose from my chest. I felt my arms and torso expand, my face changing. When I finally looked up, I saw something that chilled me to the bone: my Uncle Valentín’s face was staring back at me.

From Valentín’s perspective After hesitating for a while, I decided to try on the t-shirt and jeans. Although I felt ridiculous, I looked at myself in the mirror, trying to imagine what it would be like to be young again.

Then, a strange tingling started in my fingers and spread throughout my body. I felt my skin tighten, my height shrink, and my muscles transform. When it was over, I looked up and saw a teenager in the mirror. A teenager with my nephew Benny’s face.

From both points of view In our respective rooms, we looked at ourselves in the mirror, stunned. Benny, trapped in my Uncle Valentín’s body, touched the beard that now covered his face, unable to believe what was happening. Valentín, fascinated by his new smooth skin and youthful hair, smiled in disbelief.

"This can’t be happening," we muttered in unison. But it was. We had changed.

From Benny’s perspective

I was sitting on the bed, looking at the unfamiliar hands that were now mine. They were big, rough, and had a couple of scars I didn’t recognize. Every time I looked up at the mirror, I saw my Uncle Valentín’s face staring back at me with eyes full of confusion. It felt surreal, like being trapped in an absurd science fiction movie.

The phone’s ring broke my trance. When I answered, I heard my own voice on the other end of the line, but it wasn’t me talking. It was my Uncle Valentín, now trapped in my body.

"Benny, it’s me... your Uncle Valentín. We need to talk."

The conversation was awkward at first, with long pauses and hesitations, but we eventually broke the ice. He explained that he was also dealing with the shock, and that it was urgent we meet to understand what was happening.

"For now, I can’t explain this to Nath… to your aunt," Valentín sighed. "It’s too surreal. But we need to talk in person."

"My aunt Nath? My wife now?" I replied, feeling a knot in my stomach. The idea of being married to my own aunt was horrifying. "This is... this is a nightmare."

We both agreed that this had something to do with the wishes we made the night before. But why us? Why our bodies? These were unanswered questions, and the only clear thing was that we needed to talk face to face. Valentín promised he’d be here in a few minutes.

From Valentín’s perspective Leaving the house without Nath suspecting anything was tricky. I told her I was going for a walk to clear my mind, and although she seemed a little suspicious, she didn’t insist. I took the opportunity to leave the house.

On my way to Benny’s house, something unexpected happened. A young guy, probably one of his friends, recognized me. Well, he recognized Benny… or rather, Benny’s body.

"Hey, Benny! Are you coming to the gathering today? We could have some fun, you know?" he said with a tone I could only interpret as flirtatious.

My heart raced. Was this normal in my nephew’s life? I forced a smile, trying to act like he would. "I’m not sure. Maybe... we’ll see."

The guy nodded and waved goodbye, while I continued my way, a mix of discomfort and curiosity running through me. It was strange to receive that kind of attention, but also… exciting, in a way. I shook my head to focus on what mattered: meeting with Benny and figuring this out.

From Benny’s perspective While I waited, I tried to stay quiet so my parents wouldn’t notice anything odd. The idea of someone coming in and seeing me in this body was terrifying. To distract myself, I looked at the mirror and observed every detail.

My Uncle Valentín’s body was more imposing than I had imagined. His arms were strong, his torso well-defined, and there were tattoos hidden in unexpected places. I didn’t know him well enough to imagine he had that rebellious side. Had he been a heartthrob in his youth? I wondered.

Suddenly, the door opened, and there I was... well, my body, but with Valentín inside. We both stayed silent for a moment, just staring at each other. It was like seeing a bizarre version of ourselves in third person.

"This... is crazy," I finally said, breaking the silence.

"No crazier than the fact that now I have your life, and you have mine," Valentín replied.

We both sat down, trying to process the impossible. We had swapped bodies, and our lives were completely upside down.

[mmkclarkey]

We have a spare room- Part 3

When all goes wrong, moving in with three guys will solve it?

It had been three months since you moved in with three random men, all of which having their own weird affect on you. Chris had quickly become the person you went to when you wanted to talk about Taylor swift or Chappell Roan or anything of the sort, he loved the fact that you didn’t judge him for his feminine side. And you loved the fact that he allowed you to rant about anything to him, always giving the best rants back.

This however meant that you had to judge him for something else, now if there’s one thing you learnt about Chris, it’s that he’ll test his luck, he had the tendency to be a dick to his friends. Arthurtv told you about that one time in school when Chris told the girl Arthur liked that they were in a gay relationship, much to the girl’s dismay.

The way to combat this you may ask? Chris does something wrong, he has to put £1 in the jar, they stole the idea, some show called new girl apparently?

Besides Chris, Arthur was the best person to go to if you wanted something interesting, he had this amazing ability to be able to make you laugh at the most random times. Like the time last week where you were all arguing over the shared bathroom, having the biggest shower you tended to argue over who was going to use it when you go out. Arthur fully started to strip off naked, making you all leave as he shouted that he’d flash you all if you didn’t let him use the shower. In the end, you George and Chris sat on the floor outside the bathroom laughing for nearly an hour.

And then there’s George. George was the classic, blast music and go to parties and drink kind of guy. Somehow you found yourself roped into going to yet another influencer party at least once a week, however, you can’t exactly say that you didn’t like it. Aswell as this, he was absolutely amazing at giving advice, about anything, you had problems with filming? George knew what to do. you had no idea what to wear? he did. It was shocking how good the man was at just daily advice, it made you really appreciate the fact that you have him as a friend now.

~

You had uploaded a video three days ago where you were playing a horror game on Roblox, which you didn’t see an issue with and as usual got the views you were used to. But today? Today it peaked, around 9000 more people liked it in just the one day.

Then came the comments. and that’s where you realised your mistake. At one point you scream particularly loud and George (being the only other person in the flat at the time) shouts in from his room asking if everything was okay, to which you laugh and shout through that you are making a video and you’re okay. And this would be absolutely no issue if it wasn’t for the fact that your editor left it in, and your viewers, and just people people in general, did not know that you had moved out of your old flat let alone moved in with another man.

This caused a shocking amount of people to guess that you must have broken up with your boyfriend, and got with George almost straight away, and that’s why he’s in your house, concerned whether you’re okay. It didn’t take long for George to be knocking at your door, asking if you were decent so he could come in.

“I’m decent George, come in”

“So… I saw your comments” he says while sitting down on the bed, a bit of a red look on his face, clearly just back from being outside.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t realise my editor left it in, i’m making a tiktok literally in a minute to tell people that we aren’t together, it just means explaining why I’m here” you say back in an apologetic tone, aware of how overwhelming the fans can be sometimes.

“It’s fine, I promise, do you think we should get us all in the vid just to prove it a bit?” he asks with a curious tone.

You make the decision to do so, making everyone group together on the sofa as you set up your phone, pressing record.

“So… hey guys, i’m making a quick short video to address some things i guess? for reference, I made a video last week that was released three days ago, and in it, George here asked me if i was okay, which is lovely, but we are just friends.”

Arthur giggles and says “We’re all just friends, she just wanted to hide from you guys that she moved out of her old place”

Chris chimes in “Yeah, so if anyone, preferably three girls and a guy want to come wife up this flat feel free”

“Chris shut the fuck up” All three of you say in response, yet all laughing too.

“So yeah, I moved in with Chris, George and Arthur and I guess that’s where I am now, hope this clears things up and I love you all”

You post the video and the comments come in immediately:

this quad is literally iconic

we all know why she moved in with three guys

chris is so Schmidt coded argue with the wall

i’m so glad to see you living your best life baby omg!!

they are such iconic friends we need more videos together

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

A/N i am so incredibly sorry, i’ve been completely procrastinating this, i hope we like it!! also can we notice the fourth wall break xx

taglist: @loveheart-123 @ooostarwarsfandom501st @rougetv @le-le-lea @onlinesuzie @44-ilton @chilwellsancho @pretendyoucantseeme @theresglittleronthefloor @raekensluver @viagracex @neivivenaj @authortelevision

[f1fantasys]

lando norris versace with 1 and 8 🙏🏻

I'M SO SORRY I haven't been posting much. Your girl has been busy BUT I'm backkk. Hopefully with a bang. Hope you enjoy this one!

Versace - exes hooking up1 - rough and filthy8 - in the shower

The breakup hadn't been messy at all. It was a mutual decision since you both had demanding jobs, and staying together would ruin whatever good was left of your relationship.

You were a mess initially, though you didn't let anyone see that side of you. You loved Lando so much and to suddenly not have him there whether it was physically or over a phone was one of the toughest things you'd been through. And what hurt more was how quickly he seemed to move on. A new girl on his arm every weekend in different countries.

Yes you had tried to go on a few dates but no one came even close to Lando. You found yourself comparing every guy to him, and half the time you made up an excuse to leave early, run home and drown in your sorrows.

So here you were, 6 months later, getting ready to go to Jimmyz for Carmen's 25th birthday. You tried to get out of it, knowing there was a high possibility of Lando being there, but she assured you he wasn't in town.

Still, you heart was hammering in your chest, nervous for whatever reason. It had been a while since you'd got proper dressed up and made an effort. You opted for a tight, lace, black mini dress that left little to the imagination, your cleavage threatening to spill out a any minute.

It was already 10p. And while you were waiting for Carmen & George to pick you up, you got a text that stopped your heartbeat. His name, popped up on your screen, for the first time in a long time.

Lan

Hey..y/n. Uhh this is random, but George is having car trouble (yes, car trouble in Monaco, that's what he said, don't @ me pls ;)) so he's asked me to pick you up. Be there in 10?

You couldn't help but smile at his humor, it was always one of your favorite traits of him.

But still, were you ready to see him? No. Did you have a choice? No

Before you let yourself think too much, you texted back.

Y/n

Car trouble for an f1 driver? lmao Sure, see you soon.

You gave yourself a few pep talks, hyping yourself up to be in close proximity, and alone, with your ex boyfriend whom you're still losing sleep over. Great start to the night, you thought.

Not 10 minutes later and there was a knock at your door. You gave yourself a once over in the long mirror by the front door, before unlocked it, pulling it open while holding your breath.

There he was, looking as handsome as ever. Dressed in a black shirt with the top buttons undone, backwards cap, slight stubble, piercing green eyes. You were swooning, your core clenching at nothing but just the sight of him.

You didn't miss how Lando's eyes shamelessly roamed your body, up and down, then back up again, licking his lips in the process. He stayed a few seconds too long on your cleavage before eventually clearing his throat and bringing his eyes back up to yours.

You both bore into each others' eyes, unable to tear your gazes away. You wanted to say something, but you were sure the words would get stuck in your throat.

All you managed to whisper was his name.

''Lando'' you said softly, biting your lip.

You didn't miss how Lando's jaw tightened and eyes darkened when his eyes caught sight of your plump lips between your teeth. And apparently that was enough to send him over the edge.

Before you could even respond, let alone comprehend what was happening, Lando had stepped forward, his hands on your shoulders as he pushed you backwards to the wall.

Your breath hitched in your throat, his touch sending a jolt of electricity through your body, and suddenly your legs were like jelly.

He held onto your shoulders, while yours took a hold of his biceps. His face was mere inches away from yours, his breath mixing with yours as you both were gasping for air, before he leaned slightly more forward, forehead bumping yours, nose nudging yours, lips ghosting over yours.

As if you could read each others minds, his eyes searched yours. ''Can I?'' he asked, voice deep and husky.

You quickly nodded your head, desperate, ready for whatever it was he was about to do, before his lips crashed into yours as his arms wrapped around your body, pulling you impossibly closer.

You cupped his face as your tongues battled each other in the heated kiss, spit already starting to mess your chins as Lando gave your bottom lip a few bites.

You immediately tasted the iron caused to flow freely through your mouth, whimpering when Lando continued attacking your lip with his teeth.

By now he was groping your ass, feeling the heat of his large hands through the barely there fabric of your dress.

Your hands traveled up to his hair, pulling and tugging on his precious curls as he now let our a series of his own whimpers.

You broke the sloppy kiss, desperate for air as your chest was heaving, giving Lando the opportunity to drag is mouth down to your neck and adorn it with wet kisses, biting and nipping at the sweet spots he hadn't forgotten.

You held back your moans, not wanting to let out just how desperate you were, when suddenly Lando pulled his head back, green eyes hazy but full of lust.

''Let me hear you'' he whispered, before resuming his antic on your neck while his hands slid to the straps of your dress and pushed them off your shoulders.

He groaned when he was met with your bra-less state. Your perky boobs on fully display, nipples already hardening with the cool air of your apartment.

''Fuck'' you heard him coo, more to himself, as you leaned down to connect your lips to kiss again, while he all but ripped the rest of your dress of your body.

You broke the kiss in an instant. ''Lan!"' you shrieked, but he smirked back at you.

''Don't ''Lan'' me'' he said, eyes scanning your body, lingering at the sight of your glistening pussy, dripping, clenching around nothing.

You should have done the right thing and stopped things from going any further. But do you listen to your head or your heart? The latter won out.

You quickly fumbled with Lando's shirt buttons, ridding it off his body as your hands explored his taunt muscles and V-line, before settling on his belt.

''Not yet'' he mumbled, already leaning down to latch his mouth onto your left nipple, your hands wrapping around his head again, lewd moans leaving your mouth as he butchered both your nipples.

Your chest was heaving, mind unable to form any words, except for a few that were to beg him. ''Lan, please'' you managed, pulling at his curls to get his attention.

He locked lips with you once again in a gentle, tender kiss, unlike how the last few minutes unfolded, before he hoisted you up over his shoulder, making a beeline for your room.

Not expecting him to walk into your bathroom, you hissed when he set your ass down on the cool tiles. Lando stepped between your legs and once again, you both stared into each others' souls. He took his time and let his eyes linger on your plump lips, already bruised with the destruction he gave them, while your eyes studied the scar on his nose.

You couldn't help but reach out and let your finger waltz over it, giggling when you thought back to how he'd even gotten it in the first place.

Lando couldn't keep his chuckle in either, and even if it was just for 30 seconds, the whole world faded away and it was just the two of you in your little bubble again.

But things quickly heated up again when Lando bit his lip as you finally took a hold of his belt again, and using your feet you dragged his jeans down his legs, leaving him in only his boxers.

Both your breaths were staggered again, anticipation growing between the pair of you.

Just as you were about to rid him of his boxers, Lando firmly took a few steps back, before leaning forward on his hands, head now in tow with your cunt, as he spread your legs open and wasted no time in nuzzling his face through your folds.

His actions had you gasping of hair, hands latching onto his head again as he took a deep breath in, taking in your own scent of his favorite part of you.

Lando's tongue poked out of his mouth, licking a hot strip up your cunt which had your back arching, hips bucking into his face and it wasn't long until he was lapping at you, suckling and nibbling through your juices.

You let out a series of dirty moans, grunting whenever he bit down too hard on your clit before soothing it with his tongue and blowing lightly on it.

''Missed this so much, my dirty little pussy'' he said, breath increasing with each taste he got of you.

''Lan, fuck baby, so good. Feels so good'' you moaned, already feeling the warmth build up in your stomach.

Lando knew you were close, and to tip you over the edge he let two of his fingers slide through your hole, curling them at just the right time to hit your G-spot as you squeezed your eyes shut and bit down on your lips, surely drawing blood but what the man was doing to you was surely going to end you. It felt amazing.

''Let it out'' you heard him say, somewhere at the back of your mind, and when he bought one hand up to pull at your nipples, your orgasm ripped through you in waves, your body shuddering in his arms as you came all over his face.

He didn't slow his movements though. Lando knew how much you could take, and so he didn't pull away until you came again. He stood back up, lips and chin glistening with juices as your hooded eyes took him in before pulling him closer to taste yourself on his lips.

You moaned into the kiss. ''Hmm, Lan, please'' you begged as he finally started lowering his boxers, stepping back to step out of them.

You couldn't help but lick your lips at the sight of his thick girth, bouncing around before standing tall and hard, angry.

Deciding you needed to taste him, you started sliding off the counter to sink onto your knees before Lando turned around and turned the shower on, leaving you staring with your mouth agape at his ass.

You didn't even realize you were staring until he cleared his throat with a smirk on his face. ''Éarth to y/n'' he said, taking your hands and helping you into the hot spray of the shower.

For a moment you both just stood there, holding each other. Your mind was racing, shocked at the quick turn of events, and as much as you wanted to continue, you had to take some time for your brain to catch up to what was happening.

You looked up and Lando, heart clenching at how beautiful he looked. The water soaking up his gorgeous curls which were now stuck to his forehead, the way it traveled down his perfectly contoured cheeks and jaw, and onto his thick neck that always made your legs quiver just by looking at it.

''Lando, I-''

''I know'' he said, cutting your sentence short, voice husky but weary.

You could feel tears start to prickle the corners of your eyes so you squeezed them shut.

''I know, baby'' he started again, tucking your hair behind your ear. ''But this feels so...right''

The nickname caught you off guard even thought it wasn't the first time he'd said it since he came.

''We can talk later. But for now..let me..yeah?'' he softly asked, hands already trailing over your back and ass.

Finally, you gave in, nodding your head. Because as much as you needed to talk, you also needed him in more ways that that.

That was all Lando needed to see before he pushed you flat against the wall, his hands cupping your face and kissing you hard and dirty again, sloppy, with an intent to ruin you.

And you weren't complaining. The second he had you sandwiched between him and the wall you felt his dick twitching against your stomach, so you quickly took him in your hands and started pumping him, all the while clenching your thighs together.

''Fuck me, please'' you begged as Lando's fingers found your core again, sliding them through your folds as you saw him smirk.

''What?'' you pressed.

He shook his head before chuckling. ''Just forgot how wet you are when you're needy'' he teased.

You gasped, ''I am not needy!'' you protested, though your face gave you away.

''Oh, so you're not wet for me? Not dripping for me?'' he asked, before plunging two fingers through your hole again, any words you were about to throw at him caught in your throat as you let out a lewd moan.

You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and leaned down to take one of his nipples into your mouth. Lando hissed at your actions. ''Fuck me'' he said, speeding up his fingers that were thrusting through your cunt.

''You could feel another orgasm approaching quickly, and you were getting more and more desperate to feel his dick slide through you.

''Lando please, need y..need you in me, fuck'' you mumbled.

''Patience baby, just stretching you out for me, yeah?'' he asked, and your mind spiraled at the thought of how big his dick was.

At that you came all over his fingers, gritted teeth as you praised his name while Lando slowed his fingers before pulling them out of you.

He brought his hand up to your mouth and pushed them in, watching with hooded eyes as you sucked them clean of your juices, moaning at the taste of yourself.

His eyes softened for a split second, ''gonna let me fuck you baby?'' he asked, in that god damn husky voice that had your trembling with anticipation in his arms.

You were sure no words would come out of your mouth if you tried to talk, so you just nodded your head like a eager one you were.

He smiled at that as he pumped himself a few times, pre-cum already oozing out of his tip.

Lando lifted your one leg to wrap around his waist as he lined himself up at your entrance, his eyes searched yours for consent as you nodded again, pulling him in for a sloppy kiss as he slid into your cunt with a forceful thrust.

The both of you breaking your kiss to grunt at the feeling of him filling you up to perfectly as Lando stayed still for a few seconds to allow your core to accept the intrusion.

''Fuck me, please'' you panted as you gave hum the go-ahead.

Lando pulled out of you completely, hissing at the loss of contact before he slammed back into you. Then back out, and in again, setting a relentless pace.

He slumped his body forward on yours as he fucked in and out, hard and rough.

''Fucking hell y/n, so tight baby. Clea-clearly didn't fuck you enough when we were together'' he said.

That was a lie, you both knew it.

The water was starting to turn cooler, but neither of you gave a fuck.

You could feel your walls start to clench painfully around his dick, pornographic moans leaving your mouth as Lando was getting all the right spots inside of you, showing you no mercy.

You lost it when his hand reached up and wrapped around your throat, gently squeezing it. His action had your orgasm taking over your body, shaking in his arms as your liquid coated his dick in a milky white cover.

Lando looked down to see exactly that, and he groaned at the sight, edging closer to his own orgasm as he picked up his pace even more so.

''Fuck, Lando. So good. Baby you're so big. God'' you moaned as you bit down on his shoulder.

Your legs were full on jelly now, so he hoisted you up, wrapping both your legs around his torso, continuing to pound into you.

''M' close Lan'' you said, not even the slightest bit embarrassed at how quickly your orgasms were washing over your body.

''Let it out babygirl'' he cooed, latching his lips to yours.

You could feel his cock start to twitch inside you, Lando seconds away from exploding as he bought his one hand down to toy at your clit, sending you into an array of filthy moans once again.

''Oh..I- fuck, baby'' you mumbled, before you were cumming again, violently so, all over Lando again.

'''Fucking hell. Where do you want it?'' he asked.

''In me, please. Cum inside of me Lan'' you said quickly, too quickly for your liking.

And within seconds Lando was emptying his load deep inside your cunt. His warm juices filling you up as he gently placed you back down and pulled out of you.

You both stood there, eyes hooded and chests heaving at what you'd just done. Lando turned the now cold water off, leaning his hands on the wall behind you for support as you were still latched to his shoulders.

You looked down and saw a milky white streak making it's way out of your cunt and down you thigh. And when Lando followed your eyes to see what you were looked at, he was quick to collect the sticky liquid off your thigh and plunge his fingers inside your cunt with no warning.

''Fuck Lan!'' you almost jumped at the unexpected thrust, cunt already sensitive.

He smirked up at you. ''You said 'in you', yeah?''

You brain short circuited, clenching your thighs together.

Lando helped you out the shower and dried both of your naked bodies off before hoisting you over his shoulder and carrying you to your bedroom, plopping you down on the bed.

The air should have been charged with awkwardness, but it was anything but that. Your brain, still fucked out, quickly came back down to earth and you gasped.

''Carmen, birthday, club?'' you said, looking at your phone which was flooded with calls and messages. One stood out.

Carmen

Well, since neither you or Lando are answering, I'm taking this as two exes fucking. Enjoy...and you owe me ;)

Lando giggled as he looked over your shoulder, and suddenly it dawned on you that were both still naked.

Out of the corner of your eye you saw Lando's member, still hard as fuck. And suddenly were 'weren't sore anymore'.

Lando must have caught on to what you were gawking at, and so he came to stand right in front of where you were sitting on the bed - cock in line with your eyes.

Your cheeks flushed, and you couldn't bare to look up at him, knowing he was smirking down at you.

You watched as his dick sprang around with his movements, Lando gently collecting your hair out of your face and holding it in make shift ponytail.

Finally, reaching forward, Lando bucking into your hand as you spread the few beads of pre cum around his tip.

''Fuck me'' he whispered, watching intently as you leaned forward and let your tongue run the length of his shaft, spending more time than needed suckling on the vein bulging out, before you took his tip in, sucking at it harshly.

''That mouth of yours'' you heard him mumble as you squeezed your legs closer together.

He'd had enough of your teasing though, so Lando held the back of your neck with one hand as his other guided his dick through your lips and as far deep into your mouth as he could.

You gagged instantly, hands flying to hold onto his thighs as he fucked himself in and out of your mouth, letting out a series of moans and grunts, praising your name.

''Ug, fuck, y/n, that's it baby, taking me so good. Gonna be my slut again, yeah?'' he asked as you moaned around him.

It wasn't long until you felt him start to twitch, his movements getting sloppier and grunts getting louder.

''Not gonna last y.n, where?'' he asked.

He should have known though. You took a long of his balls now, pulling and tugging at them as you pumped the part of his cock that couldn't fit into your mouth, and in no time you felt the warm splutter of his thick cum shoot down throat.

''Fucking hell baby'' he mumbled as he pulled out, leaning down to kiss you in a messy make out session that had your spit and his cum messing both your faces.

''Need to fuck you again. But just give me a few minutes yeah?'' he asked, already pumping himself to get hard again.

Not 10 minutes later, and Lando was hovering above you, pushing his dick through your cunt again, making you cum twice before emptying his load into you.

After cleaning you both up, your lazy state pulled Lando into bed and cuddled him. You could talk in the morning, or so you thought.

Because you woke up the next day with his face between your legs, his tongue lapping at your pussy as you grabbed his hair and pulled at it, vulgar moans leaving your lips.

He looked up at you when you stirred awake, before hovering over you, letting all his weight fall on your body as he kissed you, tongue pushing into your mouth while his hands settled on your boobs.

After a lazy make out session, he finally pulled back. ''Ride me?'' he asked, eyes dark.

You scoffed but smiled at him. ''I know you just want to see my boobs bounce around'' you said, already pushing him off you so you could straddle his body.

''Guilty'' he smirked, hands already tugging at your nipples.

You reached behind your ass to take Lando's hard girth, pumping him a few times before lifting yourself slightly to slide him in.

You both groaned at the feeling, fitting together perfectly as you stayed sitting on him for a few moments.

Lando kept his eyes on yours, holding a familiar sense of security and trust, but you quickly pushed that thought to the back of your mind because you still had to talk.

Instead you focused on your task. You steadied your hands on his shoulders and started to move, up and down, quickly setting a hard and rough pace, fucking yourself on his pole as you watched him, mouth agape, his eyes trained on your boobs that were literally bouncing with each thrust of yours.

''Oh..my fuck. Missed this fucking view'' he mumbled, his hands digging into the flesh of your hips as you rode him like your life depended on it.

''Lan'' you grunted, already feeling your orgasm approaching.

''That's it babygirl, doing so well for me. Riding me like the fucking pro that you are'' he said, bringing his hand down to toy at your clit.

''Lan you feel so good, so big, fuck, fill me up, please'' you begged.

''Gonna fill you up for the rest of my life, baby'' he whispered over the sounds of your moaning.

You looked at him and allowed yourself to imagine a future of waking up like this everyday, tears threatening to run down your face as he cupped you.

''I'm serious. Not letting you go. I still love you so much y/n'' he said, and with that your tears spilled over, and so did your cum, oozing out of you and coating his dick.

''I love you too Lan'' you said leaning down to give him a sloppy kiss as you picked up your pace again, desperate to make him cum.

''Fuck, nearly there'' he said. The air charged with an anticipation of what was to come as you both beamed at each other.

You purposely clenched your walls around him, and within seconds Lando was shooting thick loads of cum through your pussy, praising your name.

Normally you'd have ridden him through it, but this time you wasting no time in climbing off him and taking his cum coated dick into your mouth, moaning at the taste of both your juices mixed.

''Fucking hell, y/n''

….and that was how the rest of your lives started 🩷

[squishykitty825]

Christmas at Wayne Manor is usually hectic. With various arguments about varying topics and an inevitable snowball fight that ended with the four boys being draped in blankets in front of the fire because they were all out there in nothing but sweatpants.

Between serving rounds of hot chocolate and adding new logs to the fire, Alfred would be seen cleaning up the discarded tissue paper and scraps of wrapping paper that littered the floor.

That is until the year Bruce gave each one of his children weighted blankets, and the hours which in previous years had been flooded with shouting and shivering bodies were replaced with the sound of deep breathing.

—————————————————

The lack of noise coming from the drawing room was concerning as Bruce made his way back to the room after helping Alfred finish cleaning up the wrapping paper. Alfred was currently in the kitchen beginning preparations for Christmas dinner.

As he stepped into the room, bracing himself for a snowball to the face—because there’s no other way his children would be this quiet unless they were planning a sneak attack—but was surprised to find his children weren’t scheming as he had thought. Dick was sitting in front of the couch, Tim and Stephanie leaning their heads on either of his shoulders and Damian curled up on his lap, their weighted blankets draped over each of them while Jason laid on the couch under his own blanket. All of them were asleep.

Leaning against the doorframe, Bruce crossed his arms and watched the deep breathing of his kids, the soft music coming from the record player Dick had given to Alfred floating over to him.

“I believe you made a good decision for their gifts this year, Master Bruce,” Alfred said softly, coming to a stop beside him.

Bruce smiled. “I’m afraid Jason won’t be able to keep up his promise to help you with Christmas dinner this year, Alfred.”

“That’s alright, Master Bruce,” the butler replied. “Let them sleep. I do not think any of them have gotten this much sleep in a while.”

Bruce chuckled. Between regular villains of the week and the holiday schemes from a myriad of different villains, they had all been swamped on patrol.

“I’d offer to help, but I think we both know it’s for the best that I don’t,” Bruce said.

“I appreciate the thought nonetheless,” Alfred replied.

They stood there in silence for a moment.

Then, as Alfred turned to leave, Bruce said, “Merry Christmas, Alfred.”

“Merry Christmas, Master Bruce.”

[gachagon]

Eva's isolation from the rest of the class and the status quo

I want to talk about how the other students ostracized Eva the most out of anyone in the class in Edens Garden so spoilers down below

I think out of any Dangan game, Eva was the most isolated and ostracized. I've seen some ppl compare her to Sakura in THH however the circumstances surrounding Sakura's isolation were vastly different than Eva.

Eva lied *once* about her Ultimate Talent which isn't something new since it's happened before in Dangan games, and she tried to hide that lie from the others in a pathetic attempt to make them not look at the watches and check the report cards.

Granted, they were right that maybe Eva lying about her Ultimate Talent, and then trying to make it so nobody looked at the watches could've potentially caused more harm than good, since they're in a killing game. However, I will remind everyone that this same cast has stated that they're not going to participate in the killing game at all and will just wait for their rescue. Why would they need to "make precautions to keep everyone safe during the game" if they're supposedly not going to be playing the game at all? It's hypocrisy because they hate Eva for lying, while also lying themselves about participating in the game.

And all that aside...what Eva lied about wasn't that bad. She only lied about her own talent and didn't want others to know about it more, and when everyone found out about it they began to mock her for it. Pretty relentlessly too, almost like they're still upset about her calling them naive in the beginning of the game. Or for being outwardly distrusting of other people.

When the motives are revealed, they blame Eva for Tozu's own actions and decisions because Tozu claimed that she inspired him by what she said about the watches (she said that any one could use the watches to learn secrets about other people which was true and exactly what people used the watches for, and then Tozu introduced the motives.)

It's unfair of them to blame Eva for something like that especially since Tozu admitted to Damon that all the secrets were all secrets that everyone had already revealed unknowingly, meaning that Tozu was just being an ass when he said Eva gave him the idea. He knew everyone disliked her, and just said that to add fuel to the fire.

The way the rest of the cast treated Eva aside from Damon and Diana is gross and bad. There was no reason for Wolfgang to try and keep them from investigating, nor was there a reason for him to suggest they were untrustworthy because of their difference in opinion about the Killing Game.

The truth is that the rest of the cast would much rather lie to one another about their intentions and how much they trust one another, than simply be honest about how they really feel. When Damon and Eva call them out in the prologue they're met with coldness and open distrust from everyone else.

But the rest of the class is more covert about how little they actually trust one another, proving that they know Damon and Eva were right the whole time.

In a way, they ostracized Eva the most because she questioned their status quo the most out of anyone, and it was easier to mock her or not take her seriously because of her talent.

AND they're hypocrites for mocking her talent because Damon was the one who claimed "not all talents are equal" in the prologue, not Eva. They all disliked Damon for saying that, but when Eva was revealed to be the Ultimate Mathlete instead of the Ultimate Liar, they resorted to treating her talent as lesser than their own. You know, exactly what Damon was doing in the prologue. But the difference is that Damon had the decency to be honest about how he felt then even if it made the others not like him for a short while.

In short, yes Eva is a bad person, but nobody else in the class are exactly "good" either. You can even tell their masks are all slipping by the way they all cringe at the end of the trial when Diana gives her speech about adapting.

These people don't want to "adapt" and change to the circumstances, they want things to have a steady pace and anyone questioning that steady pace gets shut out.

[futurepastme]

Unmatched II

[Soulmate Au] [Act.I]

I hope I remembered to tag everyone who asked: @luflorysblog @valewright67 @schweetheart @funkiemoon @xs-crit-hit @dancingpieces @jellytamalies @shana-rosee @purpuraffe @saladscream @princess-of-morkva @orliththedragon @clairebonnefoy @enjaami @hakka84 @evedaser @tabbycat105 @guiltyscarlet @just-wandering-in-my-mind @percyspencer @tonystarkdeservesthewholeworld @thedollopheadofcamelot @amostunpleasantpeasant @toomanyfanficsbruh @braziiis @lottelorelei @acey-lacey @leana316 @the-sun-is-also-a-star @styxhuntress @rem-the-moth @caraspud @kintsugikid-moonysversion @beebsnas @221b-bitch-st @eat-a-handful-of-bees @highest-brightness @generouswolfdetective @read-write-thrive @0happyeverafter0 @lab-trash @faithiikins @musichooman

Act.II: Arthur Pendragon

Time seemed to pass very quickly for those who were part of the Royal Household. From feasts to meetings, from knights’ training and patrols to simple everyday tasks, everyone seemed to always have their hands full with their daily duties.

No one, though, had their hands fuller than Prince Arthur himself, who had recently risen to the position of Prince Regent after his father's sudden illness, which followed the unexpected reappearance of the now Princess Morgana Pendragon.

While the Prince was not yet King, Camelot already showed small but significant differences from King Uther's reign. Not only had he completely ceased public executions, but he had also stopped actively hunting magic users. And the most shocking and scandalous decision of all: Prince Regent Arthur Pendragon had started to knight commoners.

That brought new faces to Camelot, such as Sir Lancelot and Sir Gwaine to name a few, but also many others that came not only for the possibility of becoming a knight, but for the curiosity of what Camelot had to offer under the hands of a younger almost-King.

The new influx of people came with the additional benefit of bringing soulmates together. Wherever you went you could hear the stories of couples finding each other, and if you were lucky you could stumble upon a wedding celebration or two.

The newly soulmatched also contributed to the changes in Camelot. A lot of them stayed, choosing to continue their lives in the Kingdom, but a good few decided to leave, following their soulmates to whatever kingdom they called home.

As a consequence, many shops were closed and houses were abandoned, however, new ones appeared in their place with brand new couples and families. The old tailor shop became a bakery, the lower town butcher became a smithy, and young Gillis’ house turned into a carpenter shop accompanied by the carpenter's whole family.

Camelot was thriving under Arthur's Regency, and all that the people could think about was what would the Kingdom look like when he took the throne for good, knowing that no matter what the future brought, they would be safe in the good hands of their future King.

“I don't know what I’m doing.” A loud ‘clank’ resonated through the chambers when Arthur's head hit the table, hard enough to make the ink pot jump and to ruffle some sheets.

“Have you ever, though?”

“Shut up, Merlin!” Came the muffled response from the Prince, who still had his head pressed against the table top.

“C'mon, share with the room. What's wrong this time?” Merlin made his way across the room and sat himself on top of the table, next to Arthur's head. He had to resist the urge to run his fingers through Arthur's hair, which looked particularly soft today.

Arthur turned his head enough to lay it sideways on the table — his cheek squished against the wood — and raised his eyes to Merlin's.

“You are sitting on the prince's table.”

“I don't know, he doesn't look very princely from here.” Merlin smiled. Arthur looked very cute when he was pouting.

“Why are we friends again? I don't seem to remember.”

“You're deflecting.”

Arthur sighed and straightened up, only to sag back on his seat. He ran his fingers through his hair, pulling it a little bit. The gesture, somehow, soothing his nerves.

He let his hand fall on the arms of his chair and looked through his window. It was a sunny day and he could almost feel the kingdom buzzing with activity.

He looked back at Merlin and his watchful eyes.

Since the day, many moons ago, when Merlin opened up about his soulmate and completely broke down in front of the prince, Arthur had made a conscious effort to be more vulnerable around Merlin and let him see his emotions as they were — just like Merlin did then.

While this would never replace the connection and unity one finds in their soulmate, Arthur hoped that Merlin could find some comfort in having a friend who trusted him like that. Besides, to Arthur, it seemed only fair to repay Merlin with the same amount of trust he’d placed in Arthur that day.

Eventually, though, Arthur found out that he liked to share his feelings with Merlin. More than once he was overcome with the sudden need of telling him everything.

At some point, before that night but after they became friends, Arthur had learned to share with him the more worrisome matters and to trust Merlin's advice.

But now Arthur found it so easy to just open up to him. His fears and torments, his insecurities and moments of self doubt, his frustrations. As well as his hopes and dreams, and tiny moments of joy he felt during the day.

Feelings were not something that existed in Uther's Princely agenda, so Arthur grew up crushing them and putting them aside, treating them as a weakness. But Merlin had found his feelings and hugged them with his words, he held them with care and encouraged Arthur to nurture them.

He showed Arthur that he didn't have to be ashamed about them, at least, not with him.

So Arthur told him everything that troubled his heart.

“I’m…” he paused to breathe in, “I'm concerned, Merlin. I fear the choices I'm making are for my personal interest instead of for the good of the kingdom.”

“And what choices did you make that were for your personal interest? Please enlighten me.”

“Morgana, for one.”

“Ah, yes,” Merlin nodded and leaned forward. “The very selfish decision of supporting your sister when she was afraid your father was going to kill her. How could you?” He smirked, Arthur frowned.

“People have been leaving. More than 10 shops closed down just this last season.” Arthur tried again.

“And twelve more opened in their place.”

“The lack of public executions display a weak front to our kingdom, one with a lenient ruler that is too inexperienced to do what’s necessary. My way of ruling welcomes enemies to our doorsteps and might just be Camelot’s downfall.”

“Ah! So that’s what this is about.”

Arthur crossed his arms, waiting for an explanation.

“That’s not what you really think, you’re just quoting Lords Weird Moustache, Crooked Nose and Hairy Ears.” He numbered them on his fingers and finished with a smirk.

Arthur's frown deepened. “Lord Randall, Lord Belemy and Lord Tirswell have always been great assets to my father and have proven to be loyal men throughout his entire reign.”

Merlin huffed in annoyance. “Hairy, Nose and Moustache are your father's biggest old farts!”

“Merlin!”

Merlin crossed his arms. “You are so concerned about the good of the kingdom, when was the last time you've seen your people?”

“The last public hearing was—”

“No, no, no. No!” Merlin interrupted. “Public hearings are great to hear your people's problems, but when was the last time you've been with them? Like, among them?”

“Well, I…” Arthur opened his mouth but no words came out. He looked through the window again, the kingdom still buzzing.

It was true, since he became Regent he had been so focused on not disappointing anyone, that he hadn't had the time to walk through his kingdom.

It's not that he didn't want to, but with the whole Morgana-has-magic-and-is-his-blood-sister and his father falling in his unresponsive state, he had his hands full since before the council even agreed on his regency.

He was pulled out of his thoughts with the sharp sound of a clap coming from Merlin's direction.

“That settles it, then.” He jumped out of the table, filled with excitement. “Today we're having a stroll down the lower town.”

“We have a council meeting in two hours.”

“Which gives us over an hour, c'mon! Move your fat ass out of this chair.” Merlin started pulling him.

Arthur fought him, letting his body weigh him down on the chair.

It's not like he wouldn't follow Merlin, but he had to show some resistance. Imagine if Merlin knew how easily ready Arthur was to follow him anywhere. Unacceptable.

Besides, he liked this dance of theirs. Where Arthur weakly tried to stop him, and Merlin manhandled him into doing his bidding. It was fun.

That's how Prince Arthur spent his early evening walking around the lower town in the company of his servant.

They visited the new shops and spoke with the people about the old ones. They saw busy people running to do their duties and children playing, and at some point they walked past a rather loud door, full with cheers, laughter and music.

“Excuse me,” Merlin stopped a flushed lady that came out of the noisy building. “What's the occasion?”

“Oh, it's wonderful!” She started with a big smile. “The tailor's daughter found her soulmate last week, they just split the coin! The whole street was invited for the celebration.”

“That is wonderful, indeed!” Merlin smiled at her.

“Oh, they should be leaving any minute now.”

Just as the woman said, two young women walked out of the door holding hands, with a cheering crowd following after. One of them Merlin recognized as the tailor's daughter, Marigold. The other had auburn curls and crooked teeth, and Merlin had never seen her around before.

They smiled and waved to the crowd, hands always interlocked, and everytime their eyes met, the absolute happiness and overwhelming love they felt for each other was clear for everyone to see.

While everybody watched as the couple left on a horse, Arthur kept his eyes on Merlin.

He saw that the small corner smile he had on when the girls left the building, slowly faded as the horse rode away. His soft, gleaming eyes turned sad, and Arthur recognized the longing in them.

He wondered how many times Merlin would have to watch other people's happy ending, knowing he would never get his.

Arthur brought his hand to Merlin's shoulder in a friendly manner, “that was lovely, but we do have a room filled with old farts to get to.”

That made Merlin smile again, his eyes crinkling “So you admit they are old farts, then.”

“I don't know what you're talking about.”

The meeting proceeded as usual, so did the week. Uther's council was still skeptical of Morgana's presence and of Arthur's leadership, postponing his ascension as King for another season — even though Uther continued in his unresponsive state, his mind completely gone from this world.

Then there was Agravaine, who allegedly came to help Arthur, but whom Merlin couldn't really trust. The man seemed to be loyal enough, but too on the fence about most things for Merlin's taste.

Either way, life moved on. Knights trained, servants worked, meetings were had, and public hearings continued to open the court to the people's problems.

It was one of those hearings that brought Prince Arthur, Merlin, and three of Uther's knights on patrol close to the border of Mercia. Rumours of mysterious disappearances and shadow men that came out of nowhere, putting fear on the hearts of the nearby villagers.

Somewhere along the way, between Merlin and Arthur's banter and Uther's Knights' chatting, they found themselves caught in an ambush.

At first they all thought it was a normal bandit attack. Merlin himself even went as far as thinking it as the ‘annoying weekly bandit encounter’ before going to ‘hide to safety’ and start dropping branches on their heads.

One after the other, the knights of Camelot fought their way through the seemingly endless group.

It seemed, though, as if while their numbers got smaller, the bandits’ skill increased. The fight kept getting harder in a way it hadn't been in a long while, but eventually it ended.

Arthur looked around, taking in his men and then the defeated bandits that lay on the ground. He listened for a second, and once he deemed the area safe, sheathed his sword. “Is everyone alright?”

He did a quick once over of his knights, checking them for injuries. When he was satisfied, he turned to where he last saw their horses, hoping they would be close by.

Arthur was mid step when he realized how quiet it was. No rustling of leaves, no loud footsteps, and the worst of all, no complaints followed by a thousand ‘I told you so.’

He turned around, “Merlin, you can come out now.”

The knights stopped what they were doing, and listened. As the seconds passed without an answer, the quietness of the place got louder.

Arthur's heartbeat resonated in his head.

“Merlin!” He marched to where he last saw him hiding, making his way through bushes and thick tree trunks.

Ba-dump

Merlin wasn't there. Instead, Arthur found tracks.

Ba-dump

The tracks showed that someone was dragged away, but there were no signs of struggle, the person didn't seem to have fought their capturers.

Ba-dump

Arthur signed for his knights to follow him, his eyes focused on where the track would lead them.

Ba-dump.

They followed the tracks for a while, until they got to what looked like the entrance of a glade. Arthur signed to his knights again, sending them in opposite directions around the edge of the glade.

He focused on calming his heart while waiting for them to be ready.

Merlin would be alright. Arthur would know if he wasn't.

Once the knights were positioned, Arthur prepared himself before giving the signal for them to move, following the last of the tracks.

Ba-dump

Once they got there, Arthur was astounded with the horrific vision that greeted them at the end of the trail.

Nothing.

Ba-dump, Ba-dump, Ba-dump

He got closer to where the track ended to make sure — legs marching quickly and feet crunching leaves, — but the trail ended right there in the middle of nowhere. It was like whatever left those dragging marks had completely vanished in thin air.

Ba-dump, Ba-dump, Ba-dump

He went back and forth a few times to be absolutely certain he hadn't missed anything. To make sure he had followed the right track.

“Sire?” His knights waited for orders.

He shouldn't have to order, it should be obvious.

“Find me that dollophead.”

The knights looked at each other in doubt.

“Find him!” Arthur shouted, making the knights nod and move away in separate directions.

Arthur went back to where the trail ended, but the sight was the same. Someone was dragged away to where he stood now by two other people, and then they all vanished. There were no signs of horses or carriages, no more footsteps and no more signs of bodies being dragged.

The only option left was magic, but why would a sorcerer choose to kidnap a servant instead of attack the prince? It didn't make sense.

The trees closed in around him, his chest tightened and his breathing came in short, shallow gasps. The weight of the scene finally sinking in.

Merlin was gone.

Arthur didn't know what had happened to him, and he had no trail left to follow nor any sign that he was still alive.

His breaths seemed to be racing against his heart, both going faster and faster. Arthur dropped to a crouch, squeezed his eyes shut and raked both his hands through his hair, gripping tightly.

°•°§°•°

Merlin woke up cold and in pain. It took him a few minutes to fully come to his senses — his head had a sharp pain and he felt dizzy. His arms hurt from holding his own weight up, and his whole body seemed to weigh twenty times more than what it was supposed to.

He couldn't see anything when he managed to open his eyes; wherever he was didn't have any windows, and no torches were lit.

He was hanging from his wrists.

He felt the bite of the chains on them and straightened up to try to put some of his weight on his feet, even if they barely reached the ground.

Next, Merlin tried to remember what had happened — the weird sluggishness he felt, clouding his mind.

They were attacked and Merlin secretly helped the knights with his magic from behind some trees, as he usually does. Then there was nothing.

Did somebody hit his head from behind? That would explain the ringing in his ear and the pounding in his head. Was that what fallen branches felt like when he made them drop on bandits' heads?

He needed to get out of there and go back to Arthur.

Just when he was about to reach for his magic to try and get out, he heard the familiar sound of a door opening, followed by echoing footsteps.

When the footsteps stopped, a second door opened — this time in front of him, — and the brightness that suddenly flooded the room blinded him for a second, forcing him to close his eyes.

He heard them come in closer and cracked his eyes slightly open.

There were two of them, one walked around the room lighting the wall’s torches with his own. The other made his way straight to Merlin, lifting his torch close to Merlin’s face. “Well, well, look who finally woke up.”

He fought to keep his eyes open — the usually kind caress of torchlight, burning like a thousand suns before Merlin’s eyes.

The man had a scar across his face and was missing a tooth, and Merlin couldn’t escape his sour breath when the man laughed. “When we were told that the closest person to the Regent was his servant, we thought this would be the easiest job we ever took.”

He paced away. The other man stood by the wall next to the door with his arms crossed, he had longer hair that went to his shoulders. Both men were wearing dark clothes, but Hairy had a black cape where Scarface didn't.

“However!” Scarface turned around suddenly, “we were both very surprised to notice that the skinny little weak servant of the prince’s eyes turned gold.

Merlin froze, the scowl he had managed to put on during Scarface’s rambling weakened as the surprise hit his eyes. They had seen him.

He decided to act and reached for his magic to throw them away from him — maybe make them pass out — but his magic didn’t surface, and nothing happened. His head snapped up to where his wrists were chained up, and his eyes goggled.

That the chains were made of cold iron was an educated guess, and an expected one, but what brought true horror to his face was the thinner bracelet below those chains on both his hands. They weren't connected and didn’t seem designed to physically restrain him — the ring wasn’t skin-tight and even slipped down Merlin’s arms. Despite being thinner, they were heavier, and while the chains cut up his wrists raw, the marks carved into the bracelets were the ones that concerned him most.

He felt a chill run down his spine while the laughter from Scarface resonated through the walls. Cold iron — while very effective in neutralizing usual magic users — didn’t completely stop him from using his magic. He would be weaker, but not helpless.

This thing, though. This was different.

“I see you’ve found our toys. Aren’t they pretty? I doubt a peasant like you has ever worn something so fancy before.” Merlin didn’t look at him, he was focused on the carvings. The ringing in his ears got louder, and his head didn’t seem to pound as much when compared to the beating of his heart.

“It was a witch who kindly shared the secret for successfully binding someone's magic, you’d think it’d be common knowledge with how often magic users are hunted down, but to our surprise it turns out most people don’t know anything stronger than the good old cold iron.”

Binding someone's magic. It echoed in Merlin’s head as the man kept talking.

“Good for us, I say. Magic users are surprisingly more open to talk once they realize there’s really nothing they can do.” He laughed again.

Merlin snapped back at him with a scowl on his face, anger suddenly burning through his body. “What do you want?”

“How kind of you to ask, so polite.” He turned his head to his friend, “they are never this polite, are they?”

Hairy didn't answer, he didn’t move at all. In fact, he looked bored by his mate’s talking.

Scar turned back with a smile, “here’s the deal, scrawny, you will tell us what we want to know and my buddy will stay back there, bored out of his mind.”

“And when I don’t?”

Scarface’s eyes gleamed with a dangerous light, his already deformed face twisted with something evil and an interested smirk grew ominously. “Trust me, darling, you don’t want to give him a reason to leave that wall.”

Merlin looked back at Hairy. He was leaning against the wall with his eyes closed and didn't seem to be paying any attention to them.

“Now,” Scarface smiled, “why don't we begin?”

Merlin's cold gaze was still fired by his anger. It wasn't the first time he was kidnapped, he knew the drill. They would ask, he wouldn't answer, and then they would beat him up.

It was nothing he couldn't handle.

Still, the cold of the bracelets made for an eerie reminder that this time, he was really on his own. Not a single spark of magic would rise for his aid, and he wouldn't be able to save himself.

A chill ran down his spine when Scarface stepped closer.

°•°§°•°

The knights of Camelot rode after their Prince with quick strides. They had looked for Merlin throughout the night and part of the morning before the prince decided they needed backup. Their horses galloped through the gates of Camelot’s castle bringing with them an overwhelming sense of urgency.

Leon rushed to Arthur’s side before the man’s feet had the chance to hit the ground. “Sire?”

“Gather the knights in the war room,” Arthur didn’t stop, marching quickly through the courtyard straight to the castle’s doors. “We are separating into groups, our goal is to cover the largest amount of land in the quickest time.”

“What is going on, Sire?”

“Merlin is gone!” Arthur said, not looking back and not stopping, and that was all Leon needed to know before turning away, ready to gather as many knights as he could find.

Before the hour was over, the war room was filled and ready for action. Unfortunately, the plans were being delayed by Uther’s council who protested against the amount of knights the prince wanted to send for one servant.

“Unacceptable! The amount of resources, and time!” Said one of them.

“Not to mention the way this would weaken our defenses.” Another nodded in agreement.

“King Uther would never…” A third one started, but was interrupted by Arthur himself. “My father is not here to make a decision.”

He met the eyes of each lord with a stern gaze, before continuing:

“We will send search parties for Merlin. That is not up for debate and trying to change my mind about this will only be a waste of everyone's time.”

Arthur rose to his feet and leaned on the table, his eyes fixed on the map spread before him. “Whoever — or whatever — took Merlin must be tied to the disappearances along Mercia's borders. That was why we went there in the first place. I’m sure that finding him will uncover the truth behind those events and allow us to put an end to the threat once and for all.”

When no more protests came forth, he continued:

“The parties will be separated into the usual groups of five and six,” Arthur started to separate them, pointing on the map where each group should go. Elyan, Percival, Leon and Gwaine were each assigned party leaders and a region where they should start.

Before he could assign Lancelot his region, Gwaine asked: “What about Mercia itself, sire? If he disappeared near the border there's a chance he’s no longer in Camelot.”

Arthur nodded in acknowledgement, “I plan to lead a party through Mercia myself.”

The room exploded in a cacophony of voices, the lords rising to their feet to loudly protest their disagreement. There were so many complaints that Arthur couldn't really make out what exactly they were, though he had a good idea.

“Sire, if I may.” Agravaine stepped closer, and when Arthur nodded the room quieted to hear him.“Perhaps our lordships would feel more at ease if they knew Camelot’s Regent and only legitimate heir to the throne, was staying safely inside the castle's walls.”

He paced around the room, meeting the lord’s eyes and gesturing to their direction slightly. “We are all, of course, deeply concerned with Merlin’s well being and want him home as quickly as possible. But since Your Highness is already assigning so many of our bravest knights to this noble quest, perhaps it would be for the best to stay behind and wait for your men to report back with their findings.”

The lords behind Agravaine started to nod their agreement.

“Not to mention, Sire,” he continued. “The implications of going over the border yourself without notice.”

Arthur felt trapped, he wanted to go himself — it wasn't that he didn't trusted his men, he had trained them himself, but Merlin was his responsibility, his problem, his friend, his — but with the many protests and arguments that he couldn't rebut properly, he found he didn't have a choice but stay behind.

"Very well then, Lancelot shall lead a party through Mercia's border from their side. I'll stay behind and make sure King Bayard is properly informed of the situation.

Another round of murmured protests came from the Lords, but none dared to push their luck any further by speaking up, their prince would stay behind and they knew that was the only change of plans Arthur would allow.

"You are all dismissed." Arthur said to the rest of his court, before addressing his knights "I wish you all good luck, and I hope to hear from each of you soon enough."

He looked each of them in the eye, and found nothing but unwavering determination. "bring Merlin home."

And with this final words, the knights took off hurriedly, their steps echoing through the walls as they made their way to the courtyard. Their friend was missing, and every single one of them was willing to stay in the forest until they got him back.

°•°§°•°

Merlin didn't know how long he had been in that room.

He had been starved, beaten, nearly drowned, and he was sure he had something broken somewhere. Without the aid of his magic to soften the blows, the pain he had been put through so far had been ten times worse then what it usually was when he did have his magic.

If he were a weaker man, he know he would've cracked by now.

He heard the echoing footsteps that signified his captors approach and mentally prepared himself for another round.

Scarface came in, slamming the door strong enough to make it hit the wall — he liked to make a big entrance everytime, and if the sound of it hitting the wall worsen Merlin's headache, well, that was a bonus.

"Good morning, darling!" He came towards Merlin with excited steps, and posted himself right on Merlin's face, grabbing it with his dirty hands.

"I'm very disappointed in you, darling. I thought we had something between us, especially after all this time we spend together." He mocked being sad, before giving a full belly laugh. He did that a lot.

"But, it has become clear to us that you're not much of a chatter-mouth, unfortunately." He pouted. "That's why, darling, I'm sad to inform that our time together has come to an end."

Merlin froze, panic rising through his chest.

"Oh, don't worry, we'll still see each other. I wouldn't want to miss the show, now, would I?" He laughed again.

Just then, Merlin noticed Hairy moving around the room on the background. That raised more alarms to his head. Hairy had, so far, stick to his spot on the wall. Merlin couldn't see what exactly he was doing — Scarface seemed to be purposefully blocking his view — but the fact that he was actually inside the room at all and not just standing by the door, was concerning enough.

"Most people would say that I'm the good guy, you know?" Scarface brought his attention back to him, his voice was quieter than it had ever been. "Don't get me wrong, I do like the bit that I do. It's interesting work, but honestly? Watching my friend there do his thing is quite entertaining, he's almost an artist."

He glanced back and Merlin saw Hairy approaching. "You should have answered my questions, boy." Was the last thing Scarface said before Hairy reached them. He took a step back so they could stand side by side, both staring at Merlin.

He still couldn't see why Hairy was walking around the room — both him and Scarface blocked his vision of the room like a human wall — and the uncertainty of what would happen made him anxious.

"How do you want to start?" Scarface asked Hairy.

Suddenly, Hairy pulled a dagger out of nowhere and aimed it in Merlin's direction, his hand moving quickly.

Merlin braced himself for the pain of being stabbed, closing his eyes tightly.

He didn't have to, though, instead of pain he was suddenly hit by cold air that made goosebumps run across his body. He kept his eyes closed still, waiting for what was next on Hairy's agenda now that he had his chest bare and at their mercy.

"Now what do we have here? You are full of surprises, aren't you, darling?" Scarface said before — once again — laughing loudly.

Merlin opened his eyes and looked at them with confusion. Why had they stopped?

He kept looking from one to the other, looking for the answer. It wasn't until he paid closer attention to Hairy that he figured it out. Hairy had frozen in place, dagger still in his hands, and eyes staring at the same spot on Merlin's torso.

He felt his body go tense as realization struck him like a sudden slap. He didn't need to look down to know what they were seeing, and why they had stopped. And if he hadn't figured out by himself, Scarface would have clarified things when he excitedly asked: "But why didn't you tell us you were soulmates with the prince? Now, this changes things!"

He flung an arm around Hairy's shoulder, a sick smile on his face. "What do you think?"

Hairy stared at his soulmark a while longer before snapping his eyes to meet Merlin's. And if Scarface's smiles creeped him out, it was nothing compared to how Hairy's made him feel.

With the wicked grin still on his face, Hairy raised his dagger once more. Merlin tried to struggle away, but was held tightly in place by scarface. It didn't matter much, after so many days locked inside that place, Merlin didn't really had any strength left to physically fight them back.

The last thing Merlin remembered before passing out, were the coldness of the knife when it first touched the skin near his soulmark and the distant sound of someone screaming in pain.

°•°§°•°

Arthur paced around his room, constantly running a hand through his hair. A month.

Merlin had been gone for a month and still there were no news about him or any leads of where he could have been taken to.

"Check again."

Morgana sat at Arthur's table with a bowl of water. Everyday since Merlin's disappearance Arthur would knock on her door and ask her to try to find him with magic. "I've checked three times, Arthur, and the result is always the same. Wherever he is, my magic can't reach him."

"He's not dead, Morgana! I would know if he was, I would feel it."

"Nobody said that he was."

"They didn't have to! You think I don't known? Everybody thinks he's dead by now, that I'm crazy for wasting resources on a lunatic quest for a corpse they won't even find!" Arthur kept pacing.

"Arthur!" She placed herself in his way, resting her hands on his shoulders and trying to calm him with her eyes. "We are not going to give up on him, alright? Me, Gwen, our knights, we are all worried and we won't stop looking until we figure it out where he is , and when we do we will bring him home. Alive."

Arthur untangled himself from Morgana's grip and sagged down on his chair, face hidden in his hands. "It's my fault," he whispered, "I shouldn't have left him alone."

Morgana watched the messy state of her brother. While in court, Arthur presented himself as the proper Regent the lords expected him to be, but once he was around his friends — not that he knew they were his friends — Arthur's facade crumbled, and they could all see the worry and fear he felt for Merlin.

Day after day, his knights sent him reports about their findings — or rather, the lack of them — and Morgana watched the hope slowly disappear from his face everytime a new parchment came back with nothing new to report.

"It's not your fault, your idiot." She sat on the chair next to him. "If you want to blame anyone about this, you should blame me. I'm the seer, remember? I should have seen that it would happen."

"You aren't the one who kidnapped him, Morgana, of course it's not your fault." He lifted his face to reassure her.

Morgana had a small smile and looked at him like he had just stated the obvious.

When Arthur realized why, he frowned. "That's different, I was there."

"It's not, Arthur. You've been attacked a million times before and Merlin knows how to take care of himself on ambushes. It was unfortunate, but it wasn't your fault."

Arthur looked a her with tiredness in his eyes, "I'm glad we could put our differences behind us, Morgana," he smiled to her before pressing his fingers against his eyes, "I don't know what I would have done without your help."

"Probably stumble around the castle like a headless chicken." She smirked.

Arthur was startled by the sudden laugh that came out of him. "Yeah, probably."

The whole blood-related thing with magic on the side had been a mess, they fought a lot at the beginning until Morgana realized that Arthur wasn't like Uther. Still, even with Arthur's secret support of her magic and the promise of a safer Camelot in the future, their relationship hadn't been quite stable.

If this whole thing ended in tragedy — it wouldn't. He knew it wouldn't — then at least he was glad he would come out of it with a sister he was close with.

They were suddenly interrupted by loud knocks on his door, Arthur had barely managed to recompose himself before George barged in. "Sire!"

"George? what is going on?" Arthur jumped from his seat and reached for his sword, adrenaline suddenly pumping in his veins.

"It was the strangest thing, my lord." George was out of breath and dishevelled, sweat clung to his forehead and he spoke hurriedly, barely comprehensively. "The boy came out of nowhere, then I tried to see where he would go, I did! But he was just gone!"

"Hold on, George I can barely understand. A boy?"

"He had a message. A message for you, my lord. Said it was urgent."

Just then he notice the package in George's hand. He reached for it and while Morgana tried to calm the man down he inspected it.

It wasn't much anything, just a simple leather bag that could have belonged to anyone. He opened it up and inside he found a parchment and some type of fur or animal skin rolled up to fit inside the bag.

He went for the parchment first, if they went through all this trouble to send him a message, then he would hear it.

To his royal Highness, Prince Regent Arthur Pendragon of Camelot I believe this belongs to you.

Arthur frowned to the paper and looked back inside the bag. He hadn't lost any animal fur, he hadn't even had time for hunts since he became the regent.

Reaching inside the bag with a frown, Arthur retrieved the animal fur from it and tried to see if there was anything special to it. It seemed normal enough, the skin had been rolled up like a sleeping bag and holding it closed was a small belt. He reached for the buckle and opened it, letting the fur unravel towards the ground.

When the fur unfolded, he heard the sound of something else hitting the ground. He looked down and saw what it appeared to be a piece of leather, or maybe more animal skin.

He placed the animal fur on the back of his chair and crouched down to pick up whatever it was. His eyebrows furred and his nose scrunched up while he examined the weird thing. It did look like leather, but it felt wrong on the hand and the colour didn't seem right. He stood up still examining it, confused on what it could be.

He flipped it over to look at the other side.

'Arthur Pendragon'

His breathing suddenly hitched, his heart beat faster in his chest and goosebumps run across his entire body, raising the hairs from his arms and nape. He stumbled back, managing to take three steps before he hit the table and toppled it over to the ground with him.

"Arthur!?" Morgana ran to his side.

Arthur felt nauseated, he kept his eyes at the black swirly curls hoping they would disappear, that it was a lie. He heard Morgana gasp once she saw what he had in his hands.

His eyes met hers, they were wide open and teared, his face was pale, and a whirlwind of emotions fought for control. "Tell me it's fake," he begged.

Morgana wasn't faring much better, shock froze her in place. "Tell me it's fake!" Arthur screamed, shaking her back to life. She dropped down to her knees next to where Arthur had fallen and gently hovered her hands over the words. With her eyes closed she reached for them with her magic.

When she opened them again, tears ran down her face and she met Arthur's eyes with an apologetic look. "It's real."

Arthur broke eye contact and hunched over it, "leave me."

"Arthur…"

"Leave me!"

Morgana hesitated, but decided to do his bidding. She stood up, and noticed that George was still in the room, his face paler than Arthur's nightclothes. She signed for him to follow and together they left Arthur's chambers, worried about their prince's reaction.

Arthur stayed on the ground, thick tears fell down his face and he sobbed over his soulmate's skin. Losing Merlin had taken it's toll on him, leaving him emotionally unstable as he fought to ignore his feelings and focus on his kingdom and on planning the next strategy to find him; now, beside losing Merlin, someone had found his soulmate and hurt them.

He tried to focus his vision through the blurring tears, his eyes going over the fancy loops that formed his soulmate's mark. His name. His stupid name that had gotten them kidnapped and hurt.

His eyes began to dry as sudden rage filled his heart. Someone out there had found his soulmate and decided to use them to reach him. His head snapped back to where he has left the note, heart pumping his anger through his body, giving him purpose.

When he reached the note, he was surprised to see new words appearing on the parchment. They asked for a ransom and provided a location and time, as well as instructions that Arthur wouldn't bother to follow.

He marched out of his chambers, straight to the war room. He needed to strategize and he needed maps. He would also need his knights.

The realization almost made him stop on his track. Sirs Leon, Gwaine, Lancelot, Elyan and Percival were, of course, looking for Merlin. But if he was to go after his soulmate —because this time he would go, not going after Merlin had almost killed him, he wouldn't be stopped a second time — he would need people he trusted.

Arthur mulled over the last reports he received in his head. He knew Leon would be back by tomorrow — originally to restock and regroup before leaving once more — and Elyan and Percival were closer by than the others.

Once he reached the war room he went straight to the map, leaning over it. He would have to be careful. And no matter what, he would not stop the search for Merlin. Soulmate or not, Merlin was still a priority.

He focused on the map and on the information he had so far, and started to work on a plan.

°•°§°•°

Merlin kept going in and out of consciousness, the pain he felt was too much to bare, every second he spent awake was painfully torturous and he would pass out before he could be aware of his surroundings.

He didn't see his captors again, or at least not that he noticed. Darkness seemed to surround him in every direction and he couldn't tell the difference between reality and delusion anymore.

His mind spiralled with images both from his friends and from his captors. Gwen's smile turned into Scarface's laugh which echoed for painful instants before changing into Gwaine's. He heard Leon's voice saying his name and saw Elyan and Percival standing in front of him before their figures morphed into Hairy and Scarface.

He felt Arthur's arms around him. That one he knew was an illusion, just his mind giving him something good to hang on to. He didn't care. He let his mind wrap him up in Arthur's warmth and begged for the gods that they would let him stay there. And if he were to die, to let him die in the illusion of having Arthur's arms hugging him and lulling him to sleep.

Arthur's arms didn't stay, though. After what it seemed both forever and mere seconds, he felt them letting go of him, and he felt cold.

Suddenly a new feeling emerged from somewhere withing himself, overflowing him with familiar warmth that he hadn't felt in a long while. It spread through him like a raging sea, reaching for every corner of his body and mind, not settling until it had consumed him entirely. He revelled at the feeling.

He felt himself waddle through the fog of his mind, following the sound of muttered words that he couldn't really hear.

It was like he was under a thick blanket, the thickest he has ever seen, and couldn't really get out from under it.

He kept trying, though. He pushed and pushed and pushed until he finally could get through.

He was blinded by sudden light and his heart beat faster.

Light.

How long had he stayed in the darkness that just the small hint of light brought tears to his eyes?

"Merlin? Are you awake, my boy?"

°•°§°•°

It took Merlin a week to wake up.

A week since Arthur left the castle to find his soulmate, only to find Merlin in their place.

Merlin who hanged from his wrists covered in wounds and dried blood, passed out cold.

Arthur thought he was dead when he first saw him. He ran to his side and took him down into his arms, frantically looking for his pulse. When he found it — weak but still beating — he cradled his face and cried over him, filled with relief, concern and guilt. It wasn't until Leon entered the room, surprised to see Merlin on his arms, that Arthur remembered he was supposed to be there for his soulmate.

He spent the ride home — quick gallops flying with the wind, trying to reach Gaius as fast as possible — trying to figure out what had happened.

Only after he was alone in his room — Gaius tossing him out from his tower — that he remembered that Merlin had already told him.

'I'm not a match with my soulmate.'

Arthur felt his knees weaken and his breath caught in his throat as the conversation from that night flooded his brain.

'I could never make them choose.'

'If I have to watch them be happy from a distance then that's what I'm going to do, all it matters to me is that they are happy.'

'I'm not going to say it doesn't hurt, because it does.'

'I love my soulmate, Arthur'

'I love my soulmate. Arthur.'

'I love you'

Arthur didn't sleep that night and spend the week waiting for Merlin to wake up. He needed an explanation. He needed to know why.

He gave Merlin an extra day to rest before going to see him. He had every intention to let him talk, to be calm and try to comprehend.

He entered Merlin's chambers and for a second he forgot about the whole thing.

His heart swelled at the sight of his smile. He still looked weak, but much better than he had been before. Arthur took a step in, wanting to hug him, to be next to him, to call him an idiot for have worried him so much. To cry in relief that he was awake and alive.

Then his eyes fell to Merlin's shoulder, where his name was peaking out off the bandages, and he felt himself tense up.

Soulmarks couldn't be erased, even if someone tried to remove them —like those monsters did to Merlin — they would eventually show up someplace else.

Merlin looked confused for a second before following his gaze and tensing up himself. He didn't look back up. They stayed in silence for long minutes, Arthur staring at him and Merlin looking down at his hands, unwilling to speak up.

"Say something, Merlin"

Merlin shrugged, "there's nothing much to say."

Arthur felt a sharp pain through his heart, Merlin's dismissal clashed against his already messed up feelings and he felt sudden anger start to bloom.

"How can you say that? Nothing much to say?"

"It's not important."

"Not..? I had the right to know!"

"And I had the right to not tell you!" Merlin's head sprang up, his voice raising to match Arthur's.

They snapped at each other.

"God dammit, Merlin! You didn't give me a choice, I had the right to choose and you took that away from me!"

"The right to choose? And what choice would that have been, Arthur? Are you saying you could've just let go of your soulmate? Forsaken that name you spent your whole bloody life thinking about?" Merlin shook his head "And for what? For the clumsy idiot of a servant that you barely ever have the balls to call friend?"

That was a low blow, Merlin knew that, and despite Arthur's hardest efforts to hide, Merlin could see its effect showing in his eyes.

He continued his desperate rant, not giving Arthur any chances to talk.

"What would happen later, then? When your actual soulmate shows up on your doorstep? Was I supposed to just pretend to not be hurt? Should I thank you for the time you gave me, for the generous, generous act of staying with me while you waited for your true match to show up?"

He spat the words with a sarcastic tone.

"I wouldn't have gone back on my word if..."

"I don't want your fucking word, Arthur!" He screamed, interrupting.

Arthur surrendered himself to his hurt, he felt hot anger burning through his body and he lashed out, blinded by rage he didn't know he had.

"What do you want, then, Merlin?!? A marriage proposal?! Should I shower you with expensive gifts, crawl on my knees and beg you to wed me?"

Those could have been warm, intense and passionate words, a confession even, but the sarcasm and the anger that dripped from every word, revealed the poisonous malice in them.

Arthur's sky-blue eyes were so dark with anger that they almost seemed black.

"Is that what you want? For me to beg? Should I make it public, then? Give you and Camelot the whole spectacle of having me before you on my knees!"

Merlin's heart crumbled, he felt the fight leave his body and a sudden cold that began in his stomach went through him like lightning. He was exhausted and hurt, he had been for weeks, but somehow he hadn't felt defeated.

Scarface and Hairy might have gotten to his body, maybe a little to his mind, but Merlin still had his spirit, his heart. No matter what, that part of him still shone bright and alive, always able to get him through the ugliest of the storms. Until now.

Merlin sagged down looking back at his hands, and with teary eyes, he gave up.

"Let it go, Arthur."

"You can't just expect me.."

His head snapped back at Arthur, anger growing in his chest.

"I'm not expecting shit. That was the cruellest fucking thing you ever said to me.”

Thick tears went down his face, he didn't care.

Arthur felt like he was suddenly slapped. The anger he felt had blinded him and he spoke without thinking, forgetting who he was talking to. His heart crushed at the realization of what he had said and how he had said it. He wanted to take it back, but didn't know how.

"I never wanted you to give up anything; never wanted any promises that I knew you couldn't keep." Merlin started.

He had never looked at Arthur like that, not even on those first days at Camelot, when he thought he hated Arthur. His eyes were hurt, angry, and cold.

"You're going to walk out of this room and forget you know anything about my soulmark. You will pretend nothing happened and we won't ever talk about this again." He spoke in a whispered tone; his voice was raspy but firm, despite the lump in his throat

Arthur's mouth was shut tightly, a small twitch could be seen on his jaw. He was still angry, but the guilt and regret he felt kept him from lashing out again.

Merlin's eyes weren't as dark as before, but they were intense and the tears still rained down his cheeks as he spoke.

"Now get the fuck out of my chambers."

Arthur stared at Merlin's eyes for a while longer before turning around, opening Merlin's door, and walking away, slamming the door with all his frustration and anger.

He walked past Gaius, who was pretending to not have heard the discussion, and marched out of the physician's tower without looking back.

He walked through the hallways blinded by rage, frustration and guilt; servants and guards quickly got out of his way as he passed, noticing the storm that followed him.

He entered his chambers and slammed his door as well, walking straight to his desk. He rested both his hands on the back of his chair and leaned there for a while, his knuckles turning white with the strength of his grip.

He felt wetness on his face and a burning pain on his heart.

The chair flew through the room and hit a wall, where it broke in three separate parts, an agonizing scream following its demise.

Arthur paced and threw things, his vision blurred, and when he couldn't walk anymore he fell to the floor, leaning against his bed.

He brought his knees closer to his chest where he rested his elbows, and buried his face in his hands. One single word danced around his head.

Why?

It was so unfair.

He felt weak, so tired of this month and everything that had happened. Hating himself for what he had said.

After a while, anger started to resurface: anger about Merlin, who had lied and given him no choice; anger about himself, who had hurt Merlin; anger about the people who had kidnapped him and started this whole mess; but most of all, anger about the Fates, who had denied him the chance to match with his best friend.

He jumped up, grabbed his sword, and marched down to the training grounds.

°•°§°•°

The days passed with Merlin still bedridden. The aftereffects of the magic-binding bracelets made his magic weak and unstable, unable to help him heal as fast as it usually would.

Arthur didn't come back to visit, and Merlin didn't know how he felt about it. He was still hurt and somewhat angry, but he couldn't help but miss his Prince.

When the day came where Merlin could, at last, return to his duties as Arthur’s servant, he hadn’t seen him in over two weeks. Time seemed to slow down as he entered the prince’s chambers. Arthur was already dressed and sat at his desk, reading over some papers.

Merlin saw Arthur’s shoulders tense right as he entered. Neither of them said anything, and Merlin proceeded to do his tasks feeling the heaviness of the room.

Arthur didn’t look at him, didn’t give him any absurd chores, didn’t ask for his help or his advice with any of his documents. When Merlin had to help him put on his armour, he did so with the utmost care not to touch him, not to meet his eyes.

Merlin cried himself to sleep that night, quietly sobbing on his pillow the ache off his heart.

The days went by once more, Merlin no longer followed Arthur everywhere. He polished his armour and sharpened his sword in the armoury; he folded and mended his clothes in the laundry room; he cleaned Arthur’s chambers when he was busy with either knight’s training or council meetings, which Merlin no longer took part in.

He only saw Arthur in the mornings when he had to wake him up — always on time and with a polite knock on the door — when he had to bring his meals — still hot and untouched — or when he had to prepare his baths and dress him up — careful not to touch him more than necessary.

Merlin had become the perfect servant, he didn’t speak unless spoken to — and on the extremely rare occasions where he did, it was always with the appropriate title — he didn’t make eye contact, and bowed to the Prince Regent both in acknowledgement and before leaving his presence. He had successfully become part of the decoration, invisible to everyone unless needed, as a servant was supposed to.

He had never been so miserable in his life.

The pain he felt had long subsided into something less, but somehow mutated into something more. He was just so tired. Longing had shifted into mourning, and the dull ache he felt — that weird mix of nothingness and heaviness that clung into him, making him wish he could just lay there on his bed forever — had become his most loyal companion.

His magic was inconsolable, it still longed for Arthur’s presence every single day, sneakily it tried to reach him, to just for a second revel in the warm light that was Arthur. Having to reel it in every day before it did something stupid, was one of the hardest things Merlin had to do, especially when he wanted to do the same thing himself.

His friends had tried to help, they really did. But there was nothing they could say to help, not really.

The one month mark came and went by, and if Merlin had had any hopes that they could still talk this off, he couldn't find it anymore. He hadn’t reached out to Arthur, at first out of anger, then out of hurt. Now he simply hadn’t the strength anymore. And if Arthur wanted to fix things, he would have said, or more likely, done something — something stupid, and with all the tact of someone with zero emotional intelligence — by now.

Arthur didn’t want to fix things.

He had once learned how to be content with the idea of not being Arthur’s soulmate. Now, he simply had to learn to accept he would never be nothing more than a bystander, watching as his heart lived his own life away from him.

He had to relearn how to live without Arthur.

With his mind made up, he walked from his chambers to Arthur’s in a daze. It seemed like he had just left the physician’s tower when he found himself facing the prince’s door, a fist raised up, ready to knock just like he had been doing these past weeks.

He stared at his fist and was suddenly overwhelmed with his feelings. His ears started to ring, tears surged in his eyes and he felt breathless, panting more as the ringing seemed to grow louder.

He closed his eyes and focused on his breathing, trying to push his feelings as well as the traitorous tears, back down to where they should have stayed. He stayed there for a long while, breathing and just listening to his heartbeat calming him down.

Once he opened his eyes again, he felt more himself then he had in goddess knows how long. He felt resolute, and calm. His heart ached still, but that had been there since before the ambush.

With a certainty he hadn’t had in a while, he reached for the doorknob and pushed the door open without knocking.

Arthur sat at his desk going over some documents. Merlin noticed how his shoulders tensed upon hearing him walk in, and he turned his head slightly to the right, looking in Merlin’s direction with a brief side glance before facing forward again.

“My lord,” Merlin started and he watched as Arthur stopped moving completely, his back tensing even more. Merlin understood, he hadn’t started an interaction with Arthur in who knows how long. “I have received news from Ealdor.”

That made Arthur turn and face Merlin. And for the first time in what it felt like forever, Merlin met Arthur’s sky-blue eyes — the ones that he loved with all his might — with his own, and stayed there, planning on maintaining eye contact the whole time he spoke.

Arthur’s eyes were guarded, but Merlin knew him — by the gods, did Merlin know him — and was relieved when he didn’t find any anger there. The only thing he saw was mild concern.

Merlin’s heart beat on his chest, alive once more. Arthur’s gaze, testing his decision.

“Good news.” He said, intended to reassure the prince, but just like that — after a small glimpse of relief crossed his eyes — Arthur shut himself up and presented his court face. His emotions now secure away from Merlin’s eyes.

“Apparently Ealdor has been graced with what is looking like a very fortunate season, crops have reportedly grown in such abundance as not seen in decades.” Merlin didn’t leave his place by the door. Arthur’s eyes watched him, waiting.

“With blessing of this nature, the village has come together to seek help with this next harvest season.” Understanding gleamed in Arthur’s eyes, but he remained silent, waiting for Merlin’s request that he knew was coming.

“If it would be agreeable with your highness, I would like to formally request permission to—” He cut himself short, it felt wrong, the formality in which he spoke — even if that’s what he had been doing lately. He cleared his throat trying to restart. He didn’t have to, though.

“You want to go home.” Arthur spoke — for the first time since their fight, something that wasn’t an order.

“Yes.”

“To help with the harvest season.”

Merlin’s eyes flickered away and back for a second. “That’s the plan, yes.”

Arthur nodded and looked away himself. “You have my permission, Merlin.”

For a moment there, Merlin thought he sounded resigned. He dismissed it as wishful thinking.

“Harvest is upon us, I assume you will be leaving soon.” He turned away, going back to his papers. “Take as many provisions as you deem necessary.”

Merlin nodded to Arthur’s back, grieving the loss of eye contact. “I will be leaving as soon as I finish packing, if that’s alright with you.

Arthur grunted his agreement and added: “take one of the knights with you.”

Surprise surged in Merlin’s face. “I don’t—”

“That’s the condition if you want to go”

Merlin lowered his head — was Arthur… concerned about him? — before shaking his thoughts away. “As you wish, my lord.”

He waited a few seconds. A heartbeat, two, when it was clear they were both done with talking, he prepared himself to leave the room. “By your leave?”

Once again Arthur turned his head slightly to the right, and without looking at him, nodded his dismissal.

He turned around and reached for the doorknob, he stopped. This moment felt final, and he realized that once he walked through that door, he wouldn’t be seeing Arthur again. At least, not for a long while.

He felt his magic protesting again, wanting to go to Arthur. Merlin couldn’t deny it a goodbye, so he let it free.

Slowly it floated towards the prince, hesitantly, as if it was scared to do something wrong. Once it reached him, though, it embraced Arthur completely, softly caressing his skin.

Merlin had never hugged Arthur himself, but if it was anything like what he felt through his magic, he lamented the fact.

“Goodbye, Arthur.” Merlin whispered to the room, and he saw when Arthur stopped moving.

His magic retreated, and just when Merlin was about to leave, Arthur turned around again.

His eyes were soft and he carried an hesitant, sad, smile. “Send Hunith my regards.”

They nodded to each other.

Seconds passed, and when Merlin couldn’t bear to stay there any longer, he turned away, closing the door behind him with a quiet shut.

Within the hour, two horses could be seen leaving the gates of Camelot.

Merlin rode away without looking back, with unshed tears in his eyes and a heaviness in his heart that weighed him down completely, burying with each step his last hopes of recovering the bond he used to have with Arthur.

He made his way home, not knowing what his future would look like. He knew Arthur would still need him in Camelot — the prophecy that bound them together still had to be fulfilled — but for the first time in a long while, he didn’t know what his role would be.

All he knew was that he had lost, permanently, the trust and friendship of the only man he would ever be able to love with every drop of his being.

He hoped that with time, the pain that crushed his heart would be bearable enough, and that his heart would learn to accept that he and Arthur were simply not meant to be close in any way known to men.

°•°§°•°

Leaning against the wall, Arthur watched from his window as Merlin rode away, Lancelot following him close by.

He noticed Merlin didn't spare a single glance to the place he had called home for so many years — he didn't blame him.

He stayed there, following Merlin with his eyes as he disappeared into the horizon — his heart wearing thinner and thinner as Merlin inched away from him — until long after he had disappeared from his sight.

He had done the right thing. He must have.

The past weeks had been the hardest of his entire life. He had never been so miserable; never had a task so arduously difficult as this one. Watching Merlin distance himself, seeing him slip through his fingers straight into the role of a simple servant, as if he was just another passerby in Arthur's life. It had been too much for him to bear.

He stared blankly at the place Merlin had disappeared, lost in his thoughts.

He cursed the Fates for the choices they had made. If Merlin wasn't meant to be his soulmate, then why make him Merlin's? Why make Merlin the most important person in his life, but not THE most important person in his life?

If he wasn't supposed to love Merlin back, then why did his heart seem to wear thin when he vanished beyond the horizon?

A part of him hoped Merlin would come back, that he would scream at him, curse him, call him names once more. It was a foolish wish, a selfish wanting that he had bravely fought against, and won.

The prize for his battle had been Merlin's freedom.

Arthur knew he had hurt Merlin — he had destroyed their friendship and crushed any chance of it ever being something else. But he hoped that with that, with the absolute certainty that Arthur didn't want him, Merlin would move on. Maybe someday Arthur would hear whispers about how an old servant — the one that used to follow the prince around — had just had his third child, with his lovely wife whom he loved so dearly and who loved him back.

Time passed, the room grew colder, and after the sun had set and the moon shone through the night sky, he was snatched away from his daze by the sound of knocks on his door. George's familiar voice came through, reminding him that, even though it shouldn't, the world kept moving on with or without Merlin's presence.

He tried to shake away the gruesome realization that he had purposefully lost not only his best friend, but the only person Arthur had learned to love. If it was in a romantic way or not, it didn't matter anymore. And if the Fates were to be trusted, it never did.

Princes didn't cry, it simply wasn't done. But if his fingers brushed his skin to wipe away sudden wetness, no one would be the wiser.

"Come in." He said to the door, and turned away from his window, trying to continue his life as if nothing important was missing.

End of Act.II

Hello everyone! (waves from behind a safety wall) I'm sorry it took so long to update this, work got really busy this past month but I'm officially on vacation! (yay!) I want to thank everybody for the love I got on Act.I, I know I didn't answer any comments but I hope you know how much every note I got there meant to me. You guys got me through this month. Thank you with all my heart.💖 Also, I think I should say: Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays, everyone! I spend the past two days trying to finish this in time for the 24th but wasn't fast enough. The 25th will do, though. I hope you enjoyed this chapter and that it could make you happy ☺️ (Smiles in Alex Vlahos' Mordredmas) And I'm sorry this post was so big, I don't know how that happened. (it's 11k words, guys) I left out so much background plot that was trying to sneak in — if you see something you think seems random it's because I had to get rid of plot or I wouldn't finish this ever — but even with all my getting rid of things it still ended up this big. I feel weird making it just the one post but the original idea was that all of this happened on Act II so I'm keeping it like that. I still have some figuring out to do for Act III, but I'm already writing it. I do want to try to finish it this year, but since I have never finished any story that I wrote in my life, I will give myself time to do it without pressure. So no promises as to when I'll be posting it. I will post it, though, and happy ending is still a promise. If you'd like to be added or removed from my "people to tag" list, please let me know ( I hate assuming, makes my anxiety go wild) Quick and usual reminder that english is not my first language, and that I barely edited this at all, so forgive me for any mistakes and weird formatting. I hope you guys have a great season and fantastic new year. Don't forget to keep warm if you are somewhere cold, to drink lots of water, and remember to take your medicine if you have any. 💜

[side-shuffling-hyperfixations]

Is it just me or do 2003 Leo and Raph have the best relationship out of all the iterations? It's my favorite, at least. Like they do get snappy with each other sometimes but their spats aren't nearly as often, as intense or festering as long as some others I've seen.

It was refreshing that Raph didn't challenge Leo's position as leader nearly as much. Sometimes he would challenge the decisions he made while leading but not undermine his position. He learned and mostly accepted that Leo would be a good leader in childhood and he backed him up nine times out of ten (even when Leo didn't know it: e.g. the "If Leo needs us, we're here. But let's see what this is all about." An instance of Raph pulling a Leo-type move, hanging back to recon rather than rushing in, while Leo's judgment was clouded. Learning from each other and supporting even from a distance)

How ready they are to be there for each other? How openly protective they are of each other? Like they're not as coy or begrudging or emotionally constipated as others about showing how much they care. Small gestures, big gestures, it doesn't matter. Leo's having trouble focusing on a plan because of the noise? Raph makes the noise go away. Wasn't Raph the first one who wanted to look for Leo when his morning training (getting ambushed by the Foot) ran unusually late? Or the scene where Leo's suddenly getting pulled away by an unknown magical force and he calls out to his brothers in alarm. Don cries, "Oh, no!" as he and Mikey stand there and watch; they freeze up. Raph dives headlong after him instantly.

And how they take it when they can't be there for each other? He dove headlong and he didn't actually make it in time to grab Leo's hand before he's gone. Master Splinter has to physically hold him back as he's still shouting and fighting to get to him (and then he has to be restrained again by magic when it looks like Leo's in danger in the 1v1 he was pulled to. Screw the fact that he's obviously outpowered by the almighty binding rules of the duel, he'll go kicking and screaming anyway, that's his bro!) And the scene where they're on top of a moving car, Leo loses his grip on Raph and he falls and from Leo's POV, time slows until he sees Raph land alright. Raph facing his fear ick about bugs, jumping down to defend Leo from the big boss bug with no hesitation when he sees him get stung? And of course when he cries just the once (as far as I recall) in the whole series when Leo's seriously hurt. How he makes me cry in SAINW as he crawls to Leo's side, reaches out for him, calls his name with his dying breath, his last word is his brother's name as he falls beside him, hand against his??? And that was after being estranged in that what-if future! LIKE BRO THAT SCENE MAKES ME WANT TO SCREAM

Even just the two or three lines where Leo's waxing poetic about their family, being completely sincere, and Mikey bursts out laughing and teases him for being a sap. Raph immediately tells Mikey to lay off and that Leo's got a point.

They're just so good. They have a few arguments like all siblings do but there is zero doubt that they love each other to pieces and they don't hesitate at all to show it on the regular. And outside of that estrangement timeframe where they were traumatized and grieving and in a literal apocalypse where they lost all hope, they didn't let their relationship fall apart the way some other iterations did. (Like I love 2007 but that fight on the rooftop? Where Raph could have killed him? I watch it and I can't help but think to myself, "2003 Leo and Raph would never." We saw them have a tussle on a rooftop and the moment there was a possibility he put Raph in real danger, Leo came to his senses and dropped everything to make sure he was okay. I dunno)

Asfjskjfks this is all just biased four AM rambling. The point is I love them, your honor, best/closest/healthiest R&B dynamic duo forever in my heart <3 (Natural disclaimer: I don't say any of this to crap on any of the other iterations. I like them all! I just like 2003's portrayal the most)

[just-dreaming-marvel]

Love That Burns ~ Ending 2 ~ 42

LOVE THAT BURNS MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 2,760ish

Summary: A surprise guest affects everything.

Warning(s): canon violence, injuries

Reminder: I DO NOT do taglists. Please don’t ask. Please follow and interact! I appreciate any reblogs, likes, comments, and asks!

You and Logan fell asleep with your arms around him. He was the first to wake. He slipped from your arms and kissed your head before getting changed and heading out to work. Logan knew that you hated it when he left without a proper goodbye, but you deserved rest after worrying over him all day.

After driving a bachelorette party to a club, Logan got a notification to head to a motel to pick up a ride. There, he ran into the same woman who found him at the funeral.  She had a little girl with her, and the woman, Gabriela, was begging for Logan to take them to Canada. She even offered thousands of dollars in order to protect the girl. He told them he needed to talk to someone before he made a decision and headed back to you. 

Logan found you in the living area, ironing his shirts. 

“Hey,” you greeted as he came up and wrapped his arms around you.

“Hey,” he kissed your neck.

“You didn’t wake me up for a goodbye.”

“You needed your sleep.”

“So did you.”

Logan held you as you worked for a few quiet moments. “I gotta go away for a few days.”

You stopped ironing. “What?”

“I got a long ride for some good money. But when I get back, we’re getting outta here. All of us. We’re gonna drive down to Yelapa. We’re gonna get ourselves a boat. And we’re gonna go live on the ocean.”

“Who are you taking?”

“I can’t tell you.”

“Is this ride safe?”

“Yeah.”

“Why don’t I believe you?” You pulled out of his arms, took the ironed shirts, and walked upstairs.

“Y/N, sweetheart.” Logan sighed as he followed you up the stairs.

“It’s fine, Logan. Leave. Take the ride.”

“It’s safer here for you… Someone… Someone admitted to looking for you.”

“What? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I’m handling it.”

“Handling it? And if you die handling it, where would that leave me?”

“I’m fine, baby. If I do this ride, it will be safer for all of us.”

You scoffed. “Sure… Maybe I should come with you.”

“Not a chance in hell.”

“I can handle myself, Logan.”

“That’s not the problem.” His phone buzzed. He pulled it out to see a message from Gabriela to hurry. “I’ve got to go.” He limped over to you and tried to kiss you, only for you to turn away. “Please, honey, don’t let me leave like this.”

“Go, Logan. Come back safe.”

Logan’s sad eyes watched as you shut yourself into the bathroom. He went to leave but decided he couldn’t leave like this. He marched over to the bathroom and whipped the door open, causing you to jump. He grabbed you by the waist and pulled you into him before smashing his lips against yours. You melted into the fierce kiss, arms going to his neck. When the two of you finally broke the kiss, Logan rested his forehead against yours.

“I love you,” he breathed out.

“I love you, too,” you responded. “Come home to me.”

“Always.” He gave you one last kiss before heading off.

~~~

When Logan arrived back at the motel, he found Gabriela’s room door ajar with her body sitting up in a chair. Blood was everywhere, and it was clear that she had been tortured. The little girl that had been with her was nowhere in sight. Logan searched where Gabriela had pulled out the money from, only to find her phone. He took it with him to prevent others from getting his number.

Logan was furious as he drove back to the smelting plant. It had been a waste of time and too dangerous for him to even think about accepting this ride. Now, the money was lost, and you all were still in danger. Caliban was outside as Logan pulled up and limped for the door to inside the plant.

“Logan,” Caliban called.

“Yeah?” Logan coughed.

“What happened? Did something go wrong?”

“This job was wrong to begin with.”

Logan stormed inside, searching the makeshift kitchen for alcohol. You heard him and came rushing down the stairs.

“Logan?” You questioned. “What’s wrong?”

“Logan!” Caliban shouted from outside. “Logan!”

“Oh my—Fuck,” Logan muttered, going back to the door with you following. “What?”

Caliban was standing at the open trunk of the limo, holding a green backpack and a kid’s toy ball. “Who does this belong to?”

Logan and you went over. Logan grabbed the backpack and the ball before looking around the area.

“Logan,” the fear in your voice caught Logan’s attention immediately. You were looking at the open gate, staring at a truck driving in. “Who’s that?”

“Y/N, get inside,” Logan’s voice tried to remain calm and demanding.

“Logan—“

“Get the fuck inside!”

You rushed back inside, on high alert. Caliban followed not too long later. 

“We need to get to Charles,” Caliban said. “Keep him quiet.”

You nodded, and the two of you headed out to the tank. When you unlocked the door, Charles was already right there, pushing you aside with his wheelchair.

“Charles? What are you doing?” You questioned, grabbing the handles of the chair to stop him.

“The young mutant,” he answered. “The one that I’ve been talking to. She’s here.”

“What?” You looked at Caliban for an explanation.

Caliban sighed. “Charles has told me he’s been communicating with someone. Logan told me not to tell you.”

“I’ve got to get to her before Logan does something,” Charles continued.

You let go of his wheelchair but followed after him. He went through your makeshift house and out the door that Logan was near. You were right behind him, allowing you to see Logan still standing by the limo with a man unconscious on the ground and a little girl not too far from the scene. 

“Logan. Logan!” Charles called, stopping the old man from throwing a piece of pipe. “This is Laura. Caliban, come!” Caliban joined the rest of you. “This is who I’ve been telling you about. This is Laura. We’ve been waiting for you. Come.” 

Laura slowly headed towards Charles before turning back to Logan. She marched over and ripped the backpack from Logan’s grasp before walking towards you, Charles, and Caliban.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Charles said. “Come. Come.”

Charles guided Laura inside while you looked at Logan, confused. Logan moved his head, urging you to go inside. With a huff, you turned and headed inside. Charles was pulling out cereal and milk for Laura.

“She’s hungry,” he told you.

“I can handle this,” you said, shooting him a smile. “Just… talk to our guest.”

Charles sat by Laura, who was now at the table, and the two had mental conversations. You grabbed a bowl and spoon before putting together the cereal and setting it in front of Laura.

“Here you go,” you said softly.

Laura nodded before lifting up the spoon and digging in. Logan came in alone, leaving you to assume that he sent Caliban to take care of the man. Logan reached out for the girl’s backpack, only for Laura to quickly grab it.

“Logan,” Charles scolded. 

“Hey!” Logan exclaimed as he and Laura tugged the bag back and forth.

“Logan!”

“Hey! You’ll get it back after I figure out what you and your mother have got us into.”

“No, Logan.”

“What?”

“I think the—” Logan dropped the bag and Laura placed it in her lap before going back to eating. “Logan, the woman that you met, that’s not her mother.”

“So she talks?”

“We’re communicating.”

“Communicating,” Logan scoffed. He went over and grabbed Charles’ meds. “Take these now.”

“Logan,” you tried, “maybe Charles needs to—“

“He’s taking the damn pills!”

Charles shot you a thankful look before swallowing the pills. 

“We have to get out of here,” Logan continued. “It’s not safe here anymore. And we can’t afford to have an attack out there.”

“Yes, but this is the mutant that I told you about,” Charles said. “She needs our help.”

“She’s not a mutant.”

“Yes, she is!”

“What’s her gift, Charles? Eating? Pipe throwing? We need to pack up.”

Logan stormed off upstairs. You quietly followed after him, finding him in your room, stuffing your clothes into a bag.

“Logan,” you whispered.

“I need to get you out of here,” he murmured, focused on his task. “That man—His company… They’re after Charles. They’re after that… girl… They… They’re after you.”

“I can fight, Logan.”

“You shouldn’t have to.”

You sighed, coming into the room more. “Why didn’t you tell me that Charles was speaking to someone? Why didn’t you let Caliban tell me?”

“Didn’t want to get your hopes up…”

“And why would it have done that?”

“I didn’t know who he was talking to. Didn’t know if it was a new mutant or…”

“Or one of our friends.”

“I thought he’d lost his mind.”

“In a way, he has… Logan, are we taking Laura with us?” Logan looked away; you could tell he was torn. “We can’t just leave her here.”

“She makes it more dangerous.”

“So does Charles, and, apparently, so do I.” You walked over to Logan and gently held his face between your hands. “We can’t leave her.” Logan’s hands snaked around your waist and pulled you closer. “We can get her to where she needs to go. She was part of the job you were going to take, right?” Logan nodded. “Then we complete the job and find a new home.”

Logan sighed, leaning so his forehead met yours. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

~~~

While you finished packing a few items, Logan went outside and began filling the trunk. Dust moving in the distance caught his eye. Rows of cars were speeding towards the smelting plant. He ran back inside.

“We gotta go,” Logan said, taking Charles’ wheelchair by the handles.

“What?” Charles questioned as Logan pushed him away. “What’s going on? Where?”

“Laura,” you crouched down in front of the girl, “we’re going to go. Grab your things and come with me.”

You held out your hand and were grateful when she took it. She grabbed her backpack with her free hand, and you led her out to the car. Logan already had Charles in the car, and the wheelchair stuffed away. But it was basically too late. The trucks slammed into the gate, breaking it open, and quickly surrounded the limo. With a flick of your wrist, you had a circle of fire surrounding the limo.

“Woah,” you heard Laura gasp as her hand tightened its grip on yours.

You couldn’t help but smirk at Laura’s reaction. The trucks stopped outside the circle of fire, and men filtered out, guns raised. 

“Logan,” the same man as before greeted. The one Caliban had left to take care of. Your stomach felt like it was tied up in knots. “Huh.” The man’s gaze went from Logan to you to Laura to Charles, whose window was rolled down. “Charles Xavier.”

“Where’s Caliban?” Logan growled.

“American’s most wanted octogenarian,” the man ignored Logan.

“I’m a nonagenarian, actually,” Charles retorted.

“Where’s Caliban?” Logan repeated.

“Why don’t you hand over the girl first?” The man offered. “Both of them.” 

Logan placed himself between you, Laura, and the man, though the fire was still a barrier. “Where’s Caliban?”

“Well, I left him in the same ditch he was gonna leave me in.”

Logan growled, clenching his fists as the claws threatened to release. “Y/N, get in the car.”

“Get ‘em, boys!”

The men began firing through the ring of flames. You let go of Laura’s hand and threw your arms out, using your abilities to strengthen the flames. Logan released his claws and used them to block the bullets heading for you and Charles. You failed to realize men going around to the back and getting on the smelting plant. You gasped as the bullet cut through your abdomen and had you falling forward, and the flames protecting you all disappeared. 

Laura screamed out in anger as Logan turned around to see you bleeding on the ground.

“Y/N!” He roared as men began swarming.

Laura let out a yell as two claws appeared in each of her fists. You gasped at the sight.

“Holy shit,” Logan muttered.

Laura began defending you as your body tried to heal itself. Logan fought to get to the two of you. You rolled onto your back. You could feel that the bullet was inside of you, meaning that you couldn’t heal properly until it was out. Laura ran back inside the smelting plant, causing all the men to rush after her. Logan limped over, collapsing at your side.

“Honey, sweetheart,” his hands trembled as he looked over you.

“Logan,” you rasped. “Get Laura… we can’t leave her.”

“Not until you're safe. Come on.” He groaned as he lifted you up. He carried you to the limo and slipped you into the back with Charles. “Stay put.”

Logan shut the door and rushed off. You were panting as the pain continued. Your hand was pressed against your wound, trying to slow the bleeding. 

“We need to get that bullet out,” Charles stated. 

“I know,” you grumbled. “I need Logan… or, I guess, Laura. Someone who can get it.”

The door beside Charles whipped open, revealing one of the men with a gun. You threw your arm out and blasted him back with a large ball of fire. Logan ran past, slamming the door before getting into the driver’s seat.

“As I told you, Logan, she’s a mutant like you,” Charles said with a small smirk.

“Hold on!” Logan shouted. 

Logan started the limo and sped off towards the back of the smelting plant. Laura was there, finishing off some of the men. You and Charles flew around the back as Logan slammed on the brakes, allowing Laura to jump onto the hood of the car. Logan drove away while Laura got onto the roof and slipped inside through the sunroof. The men continued after the limo, shooting at it. Laura got on top of Charles, protecting him from the oncoming fire, only to get shot herself.

“Laura!” You exclaimed.

Laura rolled back over to you. She lifted her arm, where the bullet sat, and bit the bullet out. She spit it away as you watched how she healed. Logan kept driving, aiming right for the fence.

“Hold on!” He shouted.

Charles held onto the door while Laura grabbed you. The limo hit the fence but got stuck before the fence could completely break. 

“Come on!” He grunted.

You opened up the closest window and pushed out your hand. 

“No!” Laura exclaimed, trying to pull your arm back in.

“It’s okay,” you told her. “Watch.”

You shot fire from your palm, aiming at the fence. The metal quickly melted where you were aiming, allowing Logan to drive through the fence as trucks headed for the limo. As soon as your arm was back in the limo, Laura was rolling the window up. 

Logan sped the limo up as a train headed down the tracks he was heading toward. Two motorcycles came up, one on each of the sides of the limo. Laura took care of one with her claws while you took care of the other with a ball of fire. Logan cut in front of the long train before the trucks could catch up, barely not losing the back of the limo. Logan stopped the limo for a brief moment, staring down the man on the other side with the trucks. Laura moved up to peer over Logan’s shoulder. Logan pushed her back.

“Sit back,” he told her before driving away. Logan glanced back in the mirror. “Y/N, are you okay?”

“I’m fine, Logan,” you panted. “Just need to get this bullet out sooner than later.”

Logan gave a nod, clutching the steering wheel harder. He looked at Laura in the rearview mirror. “You.” She glanced at him. “Who the hell are you?” Laura silently moved to sit beside you. “Hey! I asked you a question. Who are you?”

“You know who she is, Logan,” Charles replied.

“No, I don’t.”

“Does she remind you of anybody?”

You wished you had the strength to go up there and comfort Logan. You could tell that he was panicking on multiple levels, especially about Laura. Before you could summon any strength, Laura had forced you to lie down and placed your head on her lap. You were asleep before you knew what happened.

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