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pathologicalreid · 4 months ago

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hi!!! totally up to you if you want to write it (it maybe too self indulgent ahhhhh). but i was think of bau!reader (or bau!adjacent) who has known spencer for forever and has watched him "glow up"/become more confident and is now dating him, but is now more self-conscious that he will realize that he is totally out of her league since women are now hitting on him all the time and he is able to basically flip men in the field. something like that if you get the vibe? just a girlfriend who is worried her boyfriend will outgrow her and is scared they'll breakup. feel free to ignore! love your work sm!!!

a league of your own | S.R.

as your boyfriend seemingly evolves, you grow increasingly aware of the feeling of being left behind

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: flangst (heavy on the fluff, more like internalized angst) content warnings: in a bar but neither spencer nor reader are drinking, follows the events of 14x12 "hamelin", discusses the pronunciation of asmr word count: 1.4k a/n: self conscious reader is so important to me. this is for everyone who has a hard time naming their feelings. thank you for requesting!!

“He flipped him over the table?” You asked, raising your eyebrows as you looked up at Tara, who was talking about your boyfriend’s maneuvering of Arthur Brodie in the field. In passing, you had heard about the mark left on the suspect’s forehead, but you hadn’t heard the story of how he had gotten it – until now.

Bringing her cup to her lips, Tara nodded at you, her expression clarifying that it was as impressive as it sounded. You sighed at the newest addition to Spencer’s ever-evolving personality, it was hard not to think of them as grievances against you, but that’s what it felt like.

You looked over your shoulder to the bar, trying to scope out where he had disappeared to before you spotted a familiar mess of brown curls. From where you were standing, you could see him holding two drinks in his hands, but it wasn’t until he shifted his stance that you saw the girl that he was speaking with. “And that’s three,” Luke observed, shaking his head in disbelief as he watched the same scene as you.

Emily asked what he was talking about, but you tuned them out as you watched the interaction. You already knew this was the third woman to hit on him since the team entered the bar thirty minutes ago.

There was no mistaking it, your boyfriend was easy on the eyes, and you weren’t naïve enough to try to deny that fact. Still, you were having a hard time adjusting to seeing him garner exponentially more attention from people at the bar. “You better go get your man, or she might steal him away from you,” Luke taunted, nodding his head in the direction of the bar.

“What?” Your head snapped back in the direction of the bar, eyes wide as you peered across the bar where Spencer was talking animatedly to the blonde in front of him before he looked behind himself and gestured to you, prompting you to wave timidly at the both of them.

The girl sneered in your direction before spinning on her heel and trudging away, freeing your boyfriend to return to you at the table. “They didn’t have any limes, so they put a lemon in your Shirley Temple,” Spencer said apologetically, dropping a kiss on the part of your hair as he set the glass in front of you.

Shaking your head, you smiled up at him, “That’s fine, thank you.” You told him, placing your hand on the glass and spinning it to better access the straw.

If he noticed anything odd, he didn’t comment on it, instead deciding to contribute to Tara and Rossi’s conversation on ASMR.

As the team continued to chat around you, you just continued spinning your glass on the oak table, becoming more and more conscious of the way your thighs stuck to the leather booth. Your eyes only flicked up when you noticed people staring at you, “What?” You asked, heart racing as you had been caught daydreaming.

The five remaining members of your team at the table were all looking at you with similar curious looks, “Rossi’s headed out. He was just saying goodbye,” Penelope said, reaching across the table and awkwardly patting your hand.

“Oh,” you responded meekly, “Have a good night. Tell Krystall I said hi.” You shifted in your seat, the sound of your legs unsticking from the seat seemingly amplified tenfold in your self-conscious state.

As Dave made his way out, Spencer gestured for you to move over so he could sit next to you. Tara got up to get in line for the restroom and Luke and Garcia weaseled their way into one of their patented bickering matches, you nearly jumped when you felt Spencer’s hand settle on your thigh. “Alright,” he muttered, turning his head to you, “What’s up with you tonight?”

Frowning, you looked up at Spencer, brown eyes studying your face as he hunted for even the slightest hint of what had gotten into you. The only problem was you didn’t have a name for it yourself. It could be perceived as jealousy, but you weren’t concerned with anyone actually taking Spencer’s attention away from you, you were just feeling feelings. Unnamable feelings.

You brought your glass closer to you, the condensation being a welcome relief on your warm skin, pinching the straw as you took a sip of your drink. “Nothing’s up,” you said, stirring the lemon wedge around in your glass.

“Are you sure? You look flushed,” he said, pursing his lips thoughtfully before he gently pushed his water in your direction.

Brushing off his concern, you turned your attention to watching Luke and Garcia in an animated discussion on how to pronounce ASMR – Penelope insisted she was right, and Luke didn’t necessarily care either way. You only moved your gaze when the blonde from earlier passed by again, dragging her palm over Spencer’s shoulder, causing him to lean into you.

Flustered, you took a long sip of your drink before setting it back down, “Can we go?” You asked Spencer, pressing your lips together in a thin line as you looked at him expectantly.

As he began to put puzzle pieces together, he nodded, standing up and gathering your glasses to set them on the bar. You said your goodbyes before leading the way out and flipping Luke off as he called out something about protection, something that would have previously left Spencer embarrassed and stammering, but now made him chuckle as he held the door open for you.

Part of you was grateful for this sort of evolution in Spencer, he was, after all, more confident in every aspect of his life. Now waiting for the metro, you looked at him, longer hair, his work shirt unbuttoned at the top and pushed up to his elbows. The light breeze in the tunnel moved his hair as he crossed his arms in front of his chest, “Are you alright, love?”

Your shoulders drooped helplessly at the pet name, “You shoved a guy on a table?”

His face fell, “Is that what this is about? Me using force against a suspect?”

Quickly, you shook your head, “No, no. He pushed Tara, it’s not that at all,” you scrambled to reassure him, knowing he was afraid that his time in federal prison had made him a violent person. “It’s just… you shoved a guy onto a picnic table and you’re getting hit on by people in bars and you’re dressing differently and I’m just… me.” You hold your hands out as if you’re on display, looking down at the sundress you had thrown on and the sneakers you wore for comfort instead of style.

“Are you jealous that I’m getting attention from other people?” He asked, “Because I’ve never encouraged anyone.” That was true, last week a deputy sheriff had made a move on your boyfriend, and the only thing he had gotten in return was an earful on how you had made the deduction that eventually solved the case.

Bowing your head, you regretted ever saying anything in the first place, “No,” you groaned, “What’s that term for someone who can’t name their emotions? That’s me. Right now. At this moment.”

Spencer chuckled at your frustration, “It’s called alexithymia, and there’s nothing wrong with that.”

“I’ve watched you change in front of my very own eyes in the last year, and I guess I’m just feeling left behind,” you admitted. “You’re a changed person and there’s nothing different about me.”

He tilted his head to the side curiously, “Can I ask you something?”

“Anything,” you said desperately, hoping to get to the bottom of your conflicting emotions.

“Did you love me before?”

You froze, looking up at him, “Of course.”

He raised his eyebrows, reaching out and tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, “And you love me now?”

Nodding, you stepped closer to him, “Very much so.”

“Then there’s nothing else I could possibly ask of you,” he told you, smiling as you blushed. “You don’t need to change in time with me, and – since we’re being honest – I’ve always felt like I’m the one lagging behind you. So, maybe I’ve just been playing catch-up.”

You frowned, moving even closer to him as the platform grew crowded, “Well, now I feel ridiculous.”

“Not ridiculous,” he murmured, “Just human,” Spencer amended.

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nonsensology · 8 months ago

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This was supposed to just be a rough sketch, but then I started getting really invested in it.

I hadn't initially intended to include so many picture book characters, but the nostalgia was overwhelming. Does anyone remember the animated short films produced by Weston Woods? My local library used to have a bunch of them on the Scholastic VHS tapes from the late 90s. (I know some shorts were released on the Children's Circle VHS tapes back in the 80s (🎶 Come on along! Come on along! Join the caravan!), and some were packaged in Sammy's Story Shop in 2008.)

Characters:

Max, from Where the Wild Things Are, written and illustrated by Maurice Sendak

Peter, from The Snowy Day, written and illustrated by Ezra Jack Keats

Brother Bear and Sister Bear, from The Berenstain Bears series, written and illustrated by Stan and Jan Berenstain

Pooh and Piglet, from the Winnie-the-Pooh books, by A. A. Milne, illustrated by E. H. Shepard

Owen, from Owen, written and illustrated by Kevin Henkes.

Mouse, from If You Give a Mouse a Cookie, by Laura Joffe Numeroff, illustrated by Felicia Bond

Louis, from The Trumpet of the Swan, by E. B. White

Mr. Toad, from The Wind in the Willows, by Kenneth Grahame, based on the illustrations by E. H. Shepard

Mr. Tumnus, from The Chronicles of Narnia series, by C. S. Lewis

Pippi and Mr. Nilsson, from the Pippi Longstocking books, by Astrid Lindgren

Willy Wonka, from Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, by Roald Dahl, based on the illustrations by Quentin Blake

Matilda, from Matilda, by Roald Dahl, based on the illustrations by Quentin Blake (with an homage to the Mara Wilson movie)

Peter Pan and Tinker Bell, from Peter Pan, by J. M. Barrie

Merlin and Archimedes, from The Sword in the Stone, by T. H. White, based on the illustrations by Dennis Nolan

Pinocchio, from Pinocchio, by Carlo Collodi, based on the illustrations by Enrico Mazzanti

Alice, White Rabbit, and Cheshire Cat, from Alice's Adventures in Wonderland, by Lewis Carroll, illustrated by John Tenniel

Rupert Bear, from the Rupert stories, created by Mary Tourtel and continued by Alfred Bestall, John Harrold, Stuart Trotter, and others.

Arthur Read, from the Arthur series, written and illustrated by Marc Brown

Tin Woodman and Scarecrow, from the Land of Oz series, by L. Frank Baum, based on the illustrations by W. W. Denslow and John R. Neill

The Cat in the Hat, from The Cat in the Hat, written and illustrated by Dr. Seuss

a frog on a flying lily pad, from Tuesday, written and illustrated by David Wiesner

Charlotte, from Charlotte's Web, by E. B. White

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not-that-dillinger · 11 months ago

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"There's five main types, white, green black, oolong, and pu-erh, but numerous different flavors from each type depending on the variety, and other plants can sometimes be added in to create other flavors. And that's not to mention the varieties that are often called tea and are made in the same way, but use different different types of plants."

Ed paused in consideration. "Pets are..." ...did the Grid have other life forms besides programs? "...other life forms, kept as companions." He opened the photo library on the tablet, and pulled up a picture of (what he affectionately called) his little flock of feathered menaces.

"This one's Turing," he said, pointing to a white bird with splashes of red feathers and a large ruff of feathers and what almost looked like the feathered version lion's mane around it's neck. "The one next to her is Dwar Ev," he said, pointing to a bird that appeared like she was trying to make herself taller than the rest and had an inflated crop. Her feathers were almost seemingly metallic gold in color, except for her wings, which were black with an emerald green sheen. "And then that's Mark V--" a black and white bird with checkered wings with white dots on her wing tips and a white crescent on her chest--"and finnally Clacks." Clacks, for all that she was the largest of the birds, was the most normal looking of the flock, slate blue with red bars on her wings, and shiny green feathers around her neck.

((This is a companion piece to this thread.))

[Side B: Rescue]

Haste was the word of the cycle and Ark moved quicker than ever.

Her and her lightcycle flew across the Outlands and straight for Tron City, making up for the time she had lost while she was out.

As she traveled, deep underneath the surface of the Outlands, one Gridbug, out of many, became poisoned for no discernable reason.

Ark knew where the Occupation had most likely taken Ed, and the increased guards around the building confirmed her suspicions.

She remained stealthy as long as possible, revealing herself only when she could sneak no further.

Ark fought her way through the building, alarms blaring as she took on multiple Sentries at a time. The narrow hallways worked in her favor, as only a few Sentries could approach her at a time, so she was never outnumbered in a way she couldn't handle.

It took all of Ed's will not to shrink back from Clu as the guards brought him to the tyrant.

Clu grinned like a Cheshire cat. Whatever he had planned for Ed, it was certainly much worse than what he had just been through. It looked like Clu wanted to say something. Probably to intimidate Ed, play with him before doing... whatever.

Ed had plenty of experience of taking control of situations. He also knew how to be a menace.

Beat Clu to the punch. Hit him where it hurt.

Ed opened his mouth, but before either of them could say anything, the sound of fighting came from the hallway.

Ark?

Ed had no idea if it was her or not, but if there was fighting coming this way, it was likely they were coming for him. At the very least, fighting meant they were against the occupation, and thus a potential ally.

Ed twisted sharply, then dropping down to break free of his captors. He backed away, and pulled off one of his boots. It was hefty; much heavier than his loafers.

Ed chucked it, then the other, at Clu.

Without waiting to see if either hit their mark, Ed turned and ran.

Behind him, there was the heavy thud of one of the boots hitting the ground, and an angered, pained roar from Clu. He approached the fight as cautiously as possible, while also not loosing speed. (The guard or Clu catching hi would not end well, an he most certainly would not get another chance to escape.)

He sighed with relief when he recognized Ark's lightcycle.

#/* yeah! camellia sinensis flowers are so pretty! */#/* I can't remember if Ed encountered gridbugs while he was on the Grid but I don't think so?*/#/* for reference: Turing is a Jacobin pigeon */#Dwar Ev is a cross between an archangel and brunner pouter (pouter shaped but archangel colored) */#/* Mark V is a Laced White headed Starling */#/* and Clacks is an american show racing pigeon */#/* Turing is named that because she passes the Turing test */#Dwar Ev is named after one of the characters in Frederic Brown's short story “Answer” */#Mark V is named after the computer in Arthur C. Clark's short story "The 9 Billion Names of God because she looks like she knows them all /#/* and Clacks is named after the semaphore system in Discworld */#rp #muse: ed dillinger jr #rp-028 #computerwarrior

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fryingpan1234567 · 1 year ago

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DC high school au… mayhaps…..

I’m not sure if anyone’s done this before

But I’m doing it now

So the JL, right. These are famous alumni who made school history and now obvi they’re billionaires and reporters and museum owners but they’re not superheroes— just regular people

Liiike Clark Kent was the best quarterback the school has ever seen

Oliver Queen essentially revolutionized the archery team

Diana Prince convinced the school to start a fencing league

Barry Allen slayed both track and any and all chemistry competitions thrown his way

Arthur Curry… I shouldn’t have to say anything about his swim team career. That’s where he met his wife

Bruce Wayne was one of the smartest people probably ever, especially to grace that building

And so on and so forth

Anyways so these people are famous, and they’re up on the walls and display cases and shit

The staff!! Was so thrilled!! To be getting their children!!!!

(The principal counted down the days on his calendar after the news hit that Brucie adopted his first kid)

So.

Dick and Barbara are seniors. Dick is the cheer captain and Babs WAS on the team until a fun little accident that has her wheelchair-bound. (It’s fine, she discovered she actually likes computers better. She’d hacked the entire security system one day at lunch because she got bored)

Dick is kind of the queen bee of the school, which is hilarious, because he KNOWS but refuses to let it get to his head. This man will start water gun fights in the hallways for fun

Jason and Cass are juniors

Jason is one of the drama club’s absolute best (singing and acting). He played Billy Flynn in Chicago, Prince Charming in Cinderella, Aladdin in… yeah. He slays pretty hard

Cass is on the dance team and regularly misses class for some competition or another. Sometimes, when cheerleaders and the dance team collab on stuff (like assemblies), she actually likes the pompoms. She does not like the skirts.

Tim, Steph, and Duke are sophomores— people are s c a r e d of these three

Tim is known for constantly having a stockpile of energy drinks in his locker; sometimes a few of his friends get access to it. He’s also terrifyingly smart. And he’s got a bike. SOPHOMORE YEAR. TIM WHAT

Steph’s whole entire TikTok presence is lifting/ workout challenges against any poor scrub who tries to go up against her. She can lift the same amount as Jason Todd. That gives her a very confident “don’t fuck with me aura” around school, which is good, because she’s got zero interest in any guy there anyways (bi f pref queen)

And Duke… Duke is the golden boy, so the first time you see him in a sparring match with any of his siblings (they do that for fun at lunch), you’re very shocked to see him holding his own against Cassandra Cain and Stephanie Brown. He also slays

Damian is the only freshman in his family. Jason and Tim make fun of him endlessly

It is pretty impressive that a freshie organized the biggest fundraiser the school has ever seen— and it was for local animal shelters. Nobody knows how he did it. Probably intimidation. You never know with that kid

Now the superfam. Ohoho, yes, these legends go to that school too

Kara is a junior, Kon is a sophomore, Jon is a freshman. They’re all on the football team (their dad comes to every game🥰)

Did anybody expect a woman or freshman to land on the varsity team the first year either of them tried out? No. But they made it anyways. Good for them

And football is just so different from their day-to-day personalities, sometimes it gives people whiplash

Kara pretty much runs the broadcast and yearbook teams, and she does it along with dominating the football field and gym

Conner looks like he’d deck you for looking at him wrong (I mean he might but like he won’t… probably), and he’s like. He makes good fashion choices. He’s the Bad Boy, which is funny considering his nerdy bf is the one with the motorcycle

Jon is fluffy?? So nice?? Sir who let an actual decent person on the varsity football team?? When someone spots Dami wearing his letterman at some point, they become the most popular couple at school. As freshmen. Slay for them tbh

Donna Troy is a senior. Fencing and beauty pageants is a weird combination. But she knows she’s pretty and she’s gonna make damn sure everybody else knows too

Cassie is a freshie, but she’s already on the fencing team as well and several people have seen her sparring with Damian (wHERE did he get KATANAS), and it looks like a couple of war gods who happen to be fifteen are fighting to the death for a few yards of shitty grass behind the school

Conner Hawke, Artemis Crock, Emiko Queen, Roy Harper, and Mia Dearden are the archery team captains. Yeah, there’s five of them, yeah, the coaches couldn’t pick because the kIDS ARE BETTER THAN THEM

(Ollie laughed so hard he fell out of his chair when they came home and told him that)

Roy is a junior and definitely brings his bow everywhere he shouldn’t. He also “accidentally” shot Jason once. Whenever someone asks about their meetcute they just laugh until the person gets scared and runs away

Conner is a sophomore but a bitter old man in his soul. What a king

Artemis is also a sophomore and everyone thinks she’s Ollie’s favorite because she’s like a mini-him, but Ollie doesn’t actually HAVE a favorite and she finds this claim hilarious

Mia, third sophomore, has a very strange attraction to the color yellow. She LOVES it. And she actually pulls it off, how awesome is she

Emi is a freshman but gets along with Dami pretty well, which isn’t surprising considering their matching deadpan humor and lowkey murderous rage constantly

Jackson Hyde broke Arthur’s record for fastest lap on his fourth try. He spends more time at the ocean than literally anywhere else

Wally West and Bart Allen are technically not related?? They’re like. Cousins. But Barry ended up officially adopting Wally (long story)

Anyways they’re actually cousins with Jesse Quick

The three of them DOMINATE track and field/ cross country/ physics club (yeah you read that last one right don’t even with me)

Wally is a senior and working towards becoming a forensic scientist for the cops. When someone asks why the fuck he wanted to do that to himself, he always jokes, “I’m not fast enough to be a serial killer so I guess I’ll help catch ‘em” and everyone is scared

Bart is a sophomore but should be a freshie, because he’s almost a full year younger, except that he skipped fifth grade and went straight to sixth. Tim and Kon pretend to be his adoptive parents and it’s like a soap opera watching these three act out a dramatic divorce arc

Jesse is a junior (alliteration go brr) but a younger one (summer birthday WOO) she definitely takes after Barry, especially in speed

SO people call their friend groups chaotic. What are you gonna do, go up and fuck with any of them? Bad idea

For fun, these assholes run a fight club after school with betting and rosters and everything, with anyone who signs up. FOR FUN. Once the batkids learned their dad has a black belt in like six different martial arts, it was all over

They say it’s a good workout

They’re probably not wrong, but still

Who the fuck wakes up and chooses violence on all their friends and family all in good fun to make MONEY OFF OF BEATING THEM UP

The most viral videos taken from their school is a push-up contest with all eight batkids, seven competing, Babs filming

Cass won.

LET me know if you want more for this. Because I’m gonna write more. But if you had specific suggestions or characters or scenarios or questions, I would love to write them

Good morning/ night/ 4am!! (PS BACK TO SCHOOL WOO)

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ed-recoverry · 4 months ago

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List of free audiobooks on YouTube for anyone interested

The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins

Pride & Prejudice by Jane Austen

The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald

Diary of a Wimpy Kid by Jeff Kinney

The Adventures of Tom Sawyer by Mark Twain

Alice in Wonderland

Animal Farm by George Orwell

The Shadow Over Innsmouth by H P Lovecraft

Frankenstein by Mary Shelley

Crime and Punishment by Fyodor Dostoyevsky

Hatchet by Gary Paulsen

Twelve Years a Slave by Solomon Northup

Of Mice and Men by John Steinbeck

The Village by Caroline Mitchell

The Wonderful Wizard of Oz

Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone (fuck JKR)

Sense & Sensibility by Jane Austen

The Handmaid’s Tale by Margaret Atwood

Twilight by Stephanie Meyer

Upside Down by Danielle Steel

The Fiancée by Kate White

The Silence of the Lambs by Thomas Harris

Percy Jackson & the Olympians: The Lightning Theif

Accidentally Married by Victoria E. Lieske

I’m Glad My Mom Died by Jennette McCurdy

The Collector (book one) by Nora Roberts

The Lies I Told by Mary Burton

Dead Man’s Mirror by Agatha Christie

The Hobbit

The Taken Ones by Jess Lourey

The Good Neighbour by R J Parker

The Island House by Elana Johnson

Desperation by Stephan King

The Healing Summer by Heather B. Moore

The Last Affair by Margot Hunt

To Be Claimed by Willow Winter

Romeo and Juliet by Shakespeare

The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy

The Inn by James Patterson

Wonder by R J Palacio

Faking It With The Billionaire by Willow Fox

The Lost Years by Mary Higgins Clark

Forrest Gump by Winston Groom

The Janson Directive by Robert Ludlum

The Catcher in the Rye

The Lottery Winner by Mary Higgins Clark

Where Eagles Dare by Alistair MacLean

Death of a Nurse by M C Beaton

Yours Truly by Abby Jimenez

Treasure Island by Robert Louis Stevenson

The Sonnets by William Shakespeare

Frozen Betrayal by Clive Cussler

The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde

Line of Fire by R J Patterson

Don’t Believe Everything You Think by Joseph Nguyen

The Remnant by Tim LaHaye

The Magic of Reality by Richard Dawkins

The Secret of Chimneys by Agatha Christie

Payment in Kind by J A Jance

The Idiot by Fyodor Dostoyevsky

The Way of the Superior Man by David Deida

The Game of Life and How to Play It by Florence Scovel Shinn

The Richest Man in Babylon by George S. Clason

To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee

A Marriage of Anything but Convenience by Victorine E. Lieske

The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn by Mark Twain

A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens

The Inheritance Game by Jennifer Lynn Barnes

Ikigai: The Japanese Secret to a Long and Happy Life

Thinking Fast and Slow by Daniel Kahneman

How to Win Friends and Influence People by Dale Carnegie

The Kama Sutra by Mallanaga Vatsyayana

The Wisdom of Father Brown by G K Chesterton

Robinson Crusoe by Daniel Defoe

Robin Hood by J Walker McSpadden

The Poor Traveller by Charles Dickens

Days on the Road: Crossing the Plains in 1865 by Sarah Raymond Herndon

Oliver Twist by Charles Dickens

Atomic Habits by James Clear

I Have No Mouth, and I Must Scream

Trading in the Zone by Mark Douglas

The Art of War by Sun Tzu

The Secret Garden by Frances Hodgson Burnett

A Short History of Nearly Everything by Bill Bryson

The Return of Sherlock Holmes by Arthur Conan Doyle

The Epic of Gilgamesh

Lord of the Flies by William Golding

A Tale of Two Cities by Charles Dickens

Man After Man

Five on a Treasure Island by Enid Blyton

The Red Badge of Courage by Stephen Crane

Charlotte’s Web

Midsummer Mysteries by Agatha Christie

Out of Silent Planet by C S Lewis

The Valley of Fear by Arthur Conan Doyle

Eaters of the Dead by Michael Crichton

The Murder on the Orient Express by Agatha Christie

The Castle of Otranto by Horace Walpole

21 Lessons for the 21st Century by Yuval Noah Harai

Hamlet by Shakespeare

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cryptiidcrowe · 2 months ago

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the manipulate manslaughter manwhore himself <33

deep dive into design choices under the cut!

i went into this design imagining him as the gold standard of tumblr sexymen, and then accidentally made him gnc as fuck and now he’s my gender. oops lol

- i knew i wanted to make his vest and tie patterned, bc he strikes me as someone who’d wear garish but somehow still classy (& probably also clashing) patterns. i also decided to make each piece correspond with arthur and john—the vest has the same brown and gold color scheme as arthur with an eye motif (for arthur’s blindness but also kayne’s sort of omniscient vibe). the tie has the same color scheme as my john (more or less exactly colorpicked) with a marigold pattern, both for the nickname and for its flower language—among other things, marigold symbolizes the sun, and also death. i had a ton of fun making the symbolism work for both boys but also fit with kayne’s vibe c:

(also, if i ever animate kayne, i imagine the patterns do that thing where the patterns don’t move with him but rather look like they’re a part of the background, if that makes sense; heightening his sort of uncanny otherworldly vibe)

- i purposefully wanted to make kayne look a little uncanny and inhuman! sharp stylized teeth (he’s always got a toof sticking out), forked tongue, and long pointy ears. also this bitch’s anatomy makes no sense & can and will change whenever! generally his legs are very long and his waist very small (& grabbable. grab if you dare), but as seen in the profile shot with his mouth, he’s always just kinda. off.

- his eyes are kind of slanted & mono-lidded, and his irises are more square shaped than circular. his pupils are upside down crosses. also he has the most luscious lashes imaginable

- he carries a cane around just for the aesthetic. it is nonfunctional other than self-referential jokes and murder

- face is generally made up of long & very sharp shapes. i was a little worried about his head shape being too similar to arthur’s, since his is also long with strong cheekbones, but i made kayne’s overall more sharp and severe. also pointy nose

small detail lightning round:

- he has moles! trust me he told me himself

- tails on his suit, kinda tattered and ragged looking; sort of mirrors the right hair strand

- dramatic arched eyebrows w a slutty eyebrow slit

#kayne malevolent #kayne fanart #malevolent #malevolent podcast #malevolent fanart #kayne #malevolent kayne #artists on tumblr #fanart #my art #tw blood

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tally-kiza · 9 months ago

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Joker (2019) Smut Alphabet

A/N: Long overdue, by request, a smut alphabet specifically for Joker (+ Reader). He’s somewhat different from how Arthur used to be, but perhaps not as much as you may think. (I write this 10 months after my first smut alphabet for Arthur, so my interpretation for him has definitely changed. Apologies for any inconsistencies.)

Words: 3334

Warnings: Mentions of self-harm for R(isk) and T(oys).

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Joker is frankly clueless about aftercare. He’s not doting after sex, but he’ll light a cigarette and clean himself off. Even for his first few times, he’ll never seem clingy or particularly cuddly afterwards, but you can tell he’s emotionally affected by the way he holds you to his chest. While he puffs away, he’ll reverently caress you, your arms, back, hair, anywhere he can. Kisses are pressed to the crown of your head. Sweet pillow talk is domestic, schmaltzy. Joker never thought he would have anything like it. Black moods turn white, heavy heart turns light. A genuine loving smile lights up his face; gone are all cruel smirks and strained grins.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Firstly, he has no favorite part of himself. Despite the grandiosity in which he views himself and the way he craves adulation, Joker still doesn’t like himself. He views his body with a neutrality thickly blanketed with disdain. If pressed on it, he does like his hair. Once chocolate brown, now forest green, he’s always taken good care of it.

On his partner, how can he choose? Naturally, Joker is drawn to your smile. But he's addicted to your body,the softness of your skin, the way you feel in his arms. Admittedly though... his eyes do linger on your legs every time you walk away. His hands automatically find them during sex. Your calves are caressed, thighs are gripped, legs wrapped around his hips as he pistons into you.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Thick and grey-ish white. Arthur has never tasted it, never even thought to try. Joker got the urge for it, just once. In the shower, after getting home from the hospital, still exhilarated from the new sense of freedom he felt with Penny dead. He spills in his hand, and licks his fingers clean before sprinkling water from the showerhead can rinse it away. The taste was foul and made him recoil. He’s never tried it since.

Joker loves seeing you covered in his cum though. Thrill runs through him when his cum paints your chest or face white, or when he watches his cum leak out of your hole and down your thighs after making love.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He’s stolen your underwear before. Remorse is unknown to him; if you discover it, he’ll only giggle and give you a teasing smile. It was easy, a quick swipe from your drawers when you were in the other room. When he’s all alone and you’re not around to pleasure him like he craves, Joker will touch himself to it. His left hand wraps around his cock, stroking and rubbing in a way so unlike your gentle touch. It makes him miss you all the more. While his right hand holds your underwear so tenderly. Thumb stroking the fabric, he pictures you wearing it. Wearing it for him. Thoughts of fucking you while you wear it fill his head, and his jerking fist becomes more frantic. When he finishes, he’s careful not to let his come get on it.

He keeps it stuffed in his suit pocket, treasured, bringing him selfish comfort.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Of course, Arthur is a virgin. He’s never even kissed anyone, before Dr. Sally. She was the one who taught him anything relevant he knew about sex. Before he became Joker, Arthur would sometimes watch her segments on Live! With Murray Franklin. Every time she was on, he was engrossed. No one else had ever talked about sex with such openness and professionality. It intrigued him, left him burning with questions and not enough answers. It wasn’t often that Arthur was able to listen to Dr. Sally’s radio show; it was on during the day and humiliation would swallow him up if Penny ever noticed what he was listening to. But while she napped on the odd day Arthur was home from work, he listened. He never took notes―it wasn’t like he had anyone to take notes for. But his burning curiosity compelled him.

She spoke of many things and though he listened, there was still so much Arthur didn’t understand.

Until you.

Everything he had heard Dr. Sally discuss, Joker remembered. Despite having no experience, he tried. He didn’t feel as much like a teenager fumbling around in the dark with you for the first time―eagerness spurred him, confidence filled him. Of course, as a virgin, he fumbles. Squeezes his lover’s breast too hard, forgets to pay attention to the clit, and of course, comes early. With every slip-up, his ego and bravado slip away. Just an adoring, hungry man left in its place.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Anything intimate will have a special place in his heart. Making love while spooning, missionary with his cock kissing your deepest places. He’s still a romantic deep down. But it’s also very common for Joker to werewolf and go wild. He’ll bend you over the back of the couch, pump into you pressed against a wall, fuck you on the kitchen countertops, the floor... the list goes on.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Definitely more serious. Before his revelation in identity, when he was only Arthur, on occasion he may have been a little playful during intimacy. A cute Carnival-esque joke would bring a smile to your face, making Arthur’s affections and tenderness soar. But as Joker of course, his tender heart falls away. During sex, he stares at you like he’s dissecting you, like he wants to eat you alive. He’ll smile but there’s nothing goofy about it. It’s ravenous. But rarely, he’ll whisper a naughty joke in your ear―Joker will always crave your grin and giggles.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Shaving or trimming his pubic hair is not a thought that has ever entered Arthur’s mind. His wiry patch of curls is thick and wild. ...And quite green. Dyeing his hair in the bathroom, a joyless grin pulled at him as he had massaged dye into his patch below.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

He’s always been a romantic at heart. Nothing can change that. Joker may get a little rough, but he craves intimacy and tenderness, a smoldering romance like the ones from his favorite films. Perhaps you won’t find him lighting candles and spreading rose petals, but his romance shows in other ways. It’s in the way he presses you to his chest in a tender embrace. In the way he kisses you with his entire body. In the way his cruel mask falls away from your kisses to reveal the sad, lonely man underneath, waiting for love and care. Love he finds in your arms. The strength of how he cherishes you is evident in your every moment of making love.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

With a lover, Joker would not masturbate very much at all. Without his medications diminishing his libido, he gets aroused more easily than he used to. But when arousal stirs in his groin, he doesn’t wait till he’s in the shower to stroke his girthy cock to completion, as he used to. He turns to you instead. The thought of his own hand wrapped around his member disinterests him; of your walls, tight and hot and wet, excites. He would strongly prefer to make love to you instead of masturbating. Of course, if you’re not around, he’ll have no choice. But he won’t hesitate to slip his left hand into his pants and palm his cock. Filthy fantasies quickly fill his mind. He has a hundred of them, and more. Lascivious thoughts of being worshiped by you and your tongue. Your mouth adoring his member, your gentle fingers revering his testicles, your lips whispering devotion into his ears. He finishes dreaming of the two of you coming together, with a smile on his face. Dissatisfaction sets in quickly, without you by his side to join his pleasure.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Naturally, he has a huge praise kink. Whether its gentle words whispered into his ears, telling him how well he’s fucking you, or desperate pleads to come spurring him on, or even just moaning his name, it feeds his soul as well as his arousal. Joker, Arthur, has been starved for affection his whole life. He craves any and all affection during intimacy, no matter how rough the pace is. It will bring him ever closer to the edge of finishing. And leave him curling around you tighter at the end of the night when it’s time for bed.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Joker is not as vanilla as he used to be. Arthur was most comfortable in the bedroom, though when passion inflamed, he would occasionally take you anywhere in the apartment. His desperation to be inside you was too great. But never in public would he make love to you. Joker is not much different. He’ll fuck you on any surface of your shared home, though his inhibitions for public sex are lowered. Bold caresses in a crowded subway car, risky intimate touches in plain view of security cameras at Arkham. But Joker will never fully make love to you in these public spots. Your body is a precious sight for his eyes, and his only.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Stroking his ego arouses him as much as stroking his cock. Paying personal attention to him, giving him sweet affection and compliments can easily make him hungry for more. Especially when you laugh at his jokes. It’s the highest compliment, the most tender praise. The melody of your laughter makes his heart flutter and may rouse his erection.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Anything to do with calling him daddy in bed. It’s 1981; that trend isn’t exactly a popular thing yet. It bewilders and of course, upsets him, because of his history.

Joker could never tolerate degradation or humiliation in the bedroom, either. More than anything, he hates rudeness, and this does not change with a partner. It would be taken as a betrayal, if anything. You’re Joker’s perfect person. He adores you. Being called something hurtful would instantly upset him and send him right back to feeling like Arthur again: small and weak, laughing uncomfortably through internal agony. He would lash out, and it won’t be the easiest to reconcile with him.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Joker is addicted to the sensation of your lips wrapped around his cock. It makes him feel powerful, worshiped, in control for once. He stares down at you while he holds your head and guides you deeper on his length. When his expression isn’t stony, his smile is intoxicated, eyes red with emotion. There’s no greater thrill for him.

Performing oral on his partner makes him almost as drunk on power and control. Joker is very much a novice, of course. The first few times he tries to eat you out, he can’t make you finish. It confuses him and makes him feel inadequate. As a result, he avoids it for a time. He’s a little pouty when you try to guide him and show him exactly how you like him to lick you. But quickly, Joker discovers how responsive you can truly be. Your moans, whimpers, and whines become the sweet music that lives in his soul. And knowing that only he can make you feel like this, only he can taste you this way feeds his ego in the best way.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Joker is just as likely to rut into you, with quick snapping hips, as he is to lay you down in bed and make love to you with his entire body. Perhaps sensual lovemaking even moreso. At heart, he’s still just Arthur. All he’s ever yearned for is his one and only, his soulmate. He may be Joker but he would still love you tenderly. His favorite intimate nights with you are the romantic ones, the ones that start with a moonlit date before you retire to the bedroom. Clothes are removed leisurely, hands pleasure each other, moans sighed into each others’ mouths as he finishes inside you.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Oh, he is not averse to a 5-minute thrill. When he’s in a rush, it excites him. Though he cherishes the intimacy of a romantic night of making love, Joker has the sharpest gleam in his green eyes when he’s in the mood for a quickie. He eyes you like you’re his last meal. He’ll pull his cock just out of his trousers, push aside your underwear, and fuck into you until you’re feeling sore and used. He cums quickly every time, buzzing from the dirtiness of a quickie, before getting on his knees to finish you with his tongue or sturdy fingers. Afterwards, Joker waltzes away with a spring in his step and the naughtiest smile, every time.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Assuming risk here means doing inherently dangerous sexual acts, along the lines of asphyxiation or playing with weapons, then... Yes and no. When he takes risks, it is when he’s alone and trying to just get off. When he’s in the right (rather, wrong) mindset, hurting himself brings sexual gratification. But he would never do anything risky, painful, or dangerous with you. The thought of accidentally hurting you is one that he suppresses deeply; if he did something to hurt the only good thing in the world, the only good thing to ever happen to him, he would... well. You can use your imagination. :(

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

He’s not a young man anymore! He may be Joker, and his lack of medications may increase his libido, but he can’t come multiple times. His refractory period lasts at least a couple hours, if not a day.

Many times, Joker may come prematurely and end your intimacy early with his sour or blue mood. You’re his first, so the first few times, he did come before you. (It’s a sore point for him, his novice. Dr. Sally’s radio show can only help so much.) But once he becomes more experienced with you, it’s easier to maintain his stamina. When he gets too close, his fingers will work your most pleasurable spots to make you come before he spills inside you.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

None by any traditional measures. But Joker’s .38 pistol is a prop that excites him. Never fully unloaded, its inherent danger never fails to make his cock harden. He’ll press the barrel against his skin and run it over his body, achingly slowly. Dragging a trail from his temple, down his neck, over his hollow stomach. By the time it's rubbing along his cock, Joker is fully erect. And craving more. He will ache to shoot it into some harmless space in the room, solely for the heat that would emanate from it. The heat had warmed his perpetually cold hands when he had killed those men on the subway, though he didn’t notice until later. That warmth pressed against his most sensitive place would thrill him. Joker craves it.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He stumbles into teasing unintentionally. Trying to prolong your encounter, he’ll hold off on making you come. His fingers slipping away from your clit when you get loud and fervent, jittering hips slowing down to restrained grinding when he himself can’t hold back. Joker doesn’t realize the effect it has on you. At first. The mischievous smile on his face when he realizes you like being teased could excite stone.

Quickly, he starts experimenting. He sees how far he can push you, the kind of noises you’ll make if he keeps you from coming once, twice, thrice. If he whispers taunts or sinful things in your ears until you whine. If he ignores your begging for his touch until he himself breaks and makes love to you for an hour. It makes him feel powerful, holding your orgasm entirely in his control. He feeds on it, and it compels him to do it more. Whether the electricity inside him is from his own arousal or lovingly torturing you, who knows.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Having spent his entire life living with his mother, in an apartment with paper-thin walls, he learned early on how to keep quiet. As Joker, he’s still innately quiet during sex. But when he gets close, or particularly passionate, he’ll lose control. Heavy breathing becomes impassioned moans; grunts become gasps in pleasure; growls are huffed into your neck as he presses himself as close against you as he physically can.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Maybe not a sexy headcanon, but being too affectionate with Arthur, sexually or just romantically, will frustrate him and could send him into a black mood. Not because of your love―he craves it―but because he doesn’t understand. This is something that transcends either of his identities.

He doesn’t understand what you see in a fuck-up like him.

He doesn’t understand why you seem to love him so much.

He doesn’t understand why he couldn’t have met you before his life went completely to shit.

He doesn’t understand why he just can’t fucking appreciate the only good thing to ever happen to him.

It confuses him. These feelings might come out in a fight, or through gritted teeth during pillow talk after a heated encounter. It’s times like these he wishes he still had a therapist. Joker never wants your sweet love to change; it’s just difficult navigating these new feelings.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

With handsome veins running along it, and a gentle curve upwards, Joker’s cock is only slightly longer than average. Mournfully, he has no foreskin; consequently sensation is dulled along his frenulum. His pleasant girth stretches your walls. Testes sag slightly, loose sensitive skin stretching from the base of his cock. His left is larger than his right.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Sans medications, Joker can never keep his hands off you. When his mood is high, he’ll push you against the nearest hard surface for a passionate fuck as often as you’re willing. But when his manic bursts pass and he’s struggling with black moods again, his sex drive takes a nosedive. Though he doesn’t have that same passion and need to be inside you, Joker still makes love to you often. Not for his own craving, but for the comfort of your body, and the intimacy of proximity that brings him solace in the dead of lonely night.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He never falls asleep after sex, not even when he was still Arthur. Joker’s insomnia medication used to help somewhat, but he has no medications now. After sex, he’ll be buzzing like a livewire, full of energy and pride in his ability to get you off. It keeps him drunk on satisfaction. If it wasn’t for his refractory period, he would pull you on top of him again immediately after for another round. But as it is, Joker is content to hold you close while you wind down. Your soft conversation in the intimacy of the afterglow makes him feel almost normal. Not Joker, not Arthur, just yours.

#joker 2019 #joker #arthur fleck #joker 2019 x reader #arthur fleck x reader #x reader #joker x reader #fanfiction

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bee-a-garbage-shipper · 8 months ago

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OP did not like the fact their preference was losing.

Or the fact that they where getting called the fuck out in the notes.

And as for Steph, for me personally, when Bruce is at his best he tries to take care of her and their relationship borders the line between niece/daughter and uncle/father.

Steph probably wouldn't take actual parenting from Bruce well because she does love her mother and she has a complicated relationship with her father but Bruce does care about her and wants her to be taken care of.

But even though no one shares blood and Steph would undoubtedly go "I am not related to these crazy people." (To be contrarian if nothing else.) By Anti standards the relationship I described would have Steph be enough of a Wayne for TimSteph and StephCass (and JaySteph, DickSteph, DukeSteph, DamiSteph and BruSteph) to be incest.

But for some reason it only counts when I ship JayTim. Because Jason and Tim are boys and they're homophobic.

HI I thought you'd like to vote on this poll!!!! Because I hate how annoying people can be (and yes I voted for yes and that's the propaganda I'm trying to give here lol) don't feel forced to! https://www.tumblr.com/bibibusinessman/745499108695048193/do-you-support-batcest-even-for-not-legal-batkids?source=share

Link

Yes I would like to vote. Yes I did vote yes. And yes I am incredibly bitter about the amount of people in the tags and comments saying Babs and Steph aren't really BatFam members.

Like one, the fans at large didn't fight fucking hard to get Babs and Steph as officially recognized as BatFam members.

And two, Jim and Bruce are friends there's no way that baby Babs didn't call Bruce Uncle at least once. Dick//Babs is a Cousin Ship and I will die on that hill.

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just-an-enby-lemon · 2 years ago

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i think the reason wojar riddler's design feels wrong is not the individual design elements but that he has the wrong vibes: he looks like an asshole in a 'violent fuckboy who uncomfortably flirts with women at bars and gets angry when they don't want him' way and not in a 'sleazy smug conman that is about to scam you out of your life savings' way

YES. I agree.

But for me the whole goes a little bit deeper. What really annoys me over Riddler's desing in WoJaR is that it looks too similar - in vibes - to Cluemaster.

People, me included, like to call Cluemaster dumber Riddler, but the thing that actually diferentiates them and makes the presence of both in the same narrative interesting is how different they are personality wise. They may have the same gimmick (although Edward comits harder and is an actual genius to bolt) but they have completly different motivators and are just very very different on general. To the point where while Edward should by all means be the worst person (his crimes are harder to solve, he has waay less care for human life, his motivations are insane, he doesn't have any connection he truly cares for in opposition of Arthur actually loving his daugther just still being the worst father, he is the annoying one and he is the actualy dangerous one) we still fell like we would preffer our chances with him because Arthur is just such an unpleasant person. The whiplash Steph must have felt while having to live with both of them and realizing that her C-lister dad was just waay worse than the A-lister he was coping can by itself explain why she has such a disdain for Eddie.

That's to say that for me Edward WoRaJ desing actually gives Cluemaster vibes. It is clearly Riddler. You would never mistake them. But the "violent fuckboy" energy is completly Arthur's.

Now that is based on my personal interpretation of both Riddler and Cluemaster so feel free to disagree.

#riddler #edward nygma #arthur brown #cluemaster #while i hate arthur #his relationship with other characthers makes him an actual interesting characther #either his awful parenting skills #his methods being what if riddler was a minor mob boss who actually wanted normal criminal things like woman fame and money #he being sorta of a leader for the other c listers in gotham #it's a web of interesting relations that have potential #unfortuanlly the writers are unable to tie all this detals in together #also the fact this man is maried and is still doing thirst traps and flirting with all woman he sees is such a red flag #some comics show he actually loves steph #but doesn't have the same consideration for crystal he loves more the reminder of better times or the idea of a family than her #he is just a really bad husband #and he purposifully throwed his respect woman juice away because holy fuck

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cluescorner · 7 months ago

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Tim Drake has a weird fucking function

The thing about Tim that I find unique is that his life became SO MUCH WORSE after joining the heroing thing. Everybody else had a mid-to-shit life before becoming a hero/living with Bruce and mostly everybody (except Jason who LITERALLY DIED) had their life improved by being a hero/being Bruce's kid (or at least it is typically portrayed as such.

Tim had the exact opposite trajectory. His life wasn't perfect before he became Robin, but like...multi-millionaire/billionaire (canon is unclear, but he's within Gotham's upper-strata) kid with both natural intelligence + charisma and a bright future ahead of him and parents who were emotionally neglectful but nothing really beyond that (which is also a form of trauma, but all of the info we have indicates that the Drakes were no Arthur Brown or David Cain) and he still had other people he could rely on outside of them. He went to boarding school, which could be something horrible OR something amazing depending on your own thoughts/experiences. I grew up having a commute where we'd drive past a really pretty and rich af boarding school that literally everybody in our area DREAMED of going to, so to me the idea of going to boarding school sounds incredible but mileage may vary. Tim seems like the type of kid who would thrive in that though. Based on what we know in canon atm, his pre-robin life was fucking amazing.

And then he starts being the sidekick and working towards becoming Robin. His parents immediately get kidnapped and poison themselves through drinking tainted water; his mom dies and his dad is in a coma. This is not the fault of Robin, but Tim himself muses about the idea that Robin and dead parents are linked: to become Robin completely, you must lose your parents. And with how fate/destiny/canon events can operate in comics universes, maybe he isn't that far off. Once his dad wakes up, their relationship becomes strained as the man grieves the loss of his wife and realizes that his son has been doing vigilantism as a hobby. It is unclear exactly how good of a parent Jack was before the incident, but the results of Tim's involvement with the Robin mantle has definitely made things worse between father and son. Jack will also die within quick succession of 2 of Tim's best friends, his girlfriend, and his other father. He will also effectively lose like 1/2 his loved ones in the fallout of all of that mess including: his older brother, his other friends (both civilian and superhero), and the stepmother with whom he shared what I would argue is his best parent-child relationship (Dana also may have died, but it's left unclear). He has stopped pursuing higher education (the moment he even applied for college he 'died', and it seems he hasn't made another attempt since) and if he wasn’t a major focus of the media before he sure is now. He tries to quit briefly (in fact he initially was planning on quitting once someone more suited came along) and cannot bring himself to do so. Even when he does manage to get away for a while, his superhero life impacts the pre-robin life he is trying to go back to. Leaving is an impossibility, this is all there is for him now. He also isn’t allowed to make mistakes anymore, not when lives hang in the balance. The one who enforces that impossible standard the most (besides Bruce depending on who's writing) is himself. He’s got TRAUMA now and people want to hurt him constantly. He is constantly questioning his own sanity and morality and place in the world. He almost dies like every month. Tim grows colder and less grounded, he is becoming both a better and a worse version of himself at the same time. He’s saving lives in the same few issues as he’s setting up a Saw movie plot for the man who killed his father. He is haunted by the ghosts of his past and the looming figure of his future. His life becomes SO MUCH FUCKING WORSE after he becomes Robin. Some of it is the fault of others, some is the fault of circumstance, and some of it is due to his own actions. But basically all of Tim's worst traumas and life-changing moments are either tied to or caused by Robin. Dick's parents would still be dead, Jason would still be living on the streets, Stephanie would still have Arthur Brown for a father and a lot of other things that deserve their own posts/IDK if they've been retconned, and Damian would still have been raised in the eco-cult where death is a constant. Those are life circumstances that occur without the involvement of Robin, the only one who even needs Bruce involved at all in their series of events is Damian. But Tim? All of what is considered his 'worst' moments occur after he assumes the role.

This idea is what I find the coolest and most fascinating about Tim as a character. Being a hero is usually portrayed as either an outright awesome thing or a righteous duty that one must fulfill or (maybe in a grimmer and/or more grounded story) a sacrifice to your interpersonal relationships/mental health that is made for the greater good. For Tim, being a superhero actively ruined his life (both because of the general circumstances surrounding being a kid vigilante and the choices he made as part of that role). It's never portrayed that way in canon because we need to come out of issues going 'wow being a superhero is so cool! I'm gonna buy the next issue!', but when you just look at Tim's life literally everything really bad that we know of occurred after he became Robin.

#tim drake #batman #batfamily #Red Robin 2009 #Red Robin #idk this is just why I think Tim is a really interesting character. I'm probably not being as articulate as I could be but it's tumblr so #I've had a lot of people say that they think Tim is the most boring robin. And I disagree because I don't think any of them are boring #but it is definitely the hardest to explain what makes Tim interesting to people with only a cursory knowledge #and it doesn't help that a lot of what makes Tim cool relies on his relationships with OTHER characters.#like you can explain why Jason is cool and interesting without even mentioning Batman if you really want to.#with Tim you need a fucking relationship chart and like 11 asterisks whenever anything involving the 'Bruce is dead' era is involved #so I just felt like typing up why I think he can really work as an exploration of somebody who straight up got WORSE after heroing #granted it's never actually stated because DC needs to make money. and tbh the closest we've ever gotten is Red Robin 2009 #which I feel is dubiously canon at best at this rate. was it retconned? did any of it happen in the current universe?

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gayandfairycore · 8 months ago

Text

Just hold me

Summary: y/n pendragon, is well protected by the knights of the round table and her big brother but when they’re ambushed in the woods and the capable princess is hurt, Gwaine comes to her rescue. But is he too late to save her?

A/n: I love my Irish husband!! gwaines one of my absolute favourites, I Also couldn’t resist making him reader’s bodyguard ahh so cute!! Princess x bodyguard trope or well Princess x knight. I swear it does end in fluff (nothings ever permanent) Also c/h/n means childhood nickname.

Warning: blood, fighting, reader stabs people, readers kinda savage, until she gets owned, angst, major character death, gwaines a little ooc, grammar mistakes.

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊

The, cool breeze of the forest blew through your hair as the horses continued their trot through the woods neighbouring Camelot, your friends hyper aware of every sound, of every creak in the trees, that blew the leaves. They were wary of every rustling of breeze, and every old muddy footprint.

Everyone on edge since morgana turned a new leaf, and decided her siblings were her enemy and the crown was her life’s purpose, it made a heavy sadness linger in your heart. A great deal of dread that made your skin itch.

Your e/c eyes observed the surroundings, Arthur infront, Merlin beside him, you behind Merlin Gwaine next to you, and the rest of the knights littered all around you all in a protective circle, so that if your sister crawled out from the wood work and decided to attack you they would be ready. And prepared for a fight with the witch.

Out of the both of you Arthur had been taking her betrayal harder than you, he had been sulking in his room with Merlin more than usual and the loss of your father, it was a wound too fresh for the man.

From morganas betrayal, to uthers death, magic seemingly left only destruction in its wake, and Arthur’s life felt like it was falling apart. you were Arthur’s only hope.

the only one he had still on his side. still alive. If the boy was protective before he became even more protective after your sisters betrayal, so protective he assigned gwaine as your personal knight.

Smooth talking, drunk, sticks his hands in beehives, Beautiful, talented, quick witted, gwaine. You never wanted a personal guard but he was talented with a sword, and it helped he looked good in the uniform. So you weren’t too angry at your brother thinking you needed protection, you were fully capable of course you’d been sparing with Arthur since you were kids and beating him for just as long.

But no matter your skills you were defenceless against your sisters magic. everyone was.

You let out a nervous breath at the thought, the hairs on the back of your neck started to stand up your purple velvet cape obscuring your face but still you felt bare, like there were eyes on you.

Whirling your head around your eyes bore into the wooded bush a few meters away looking for any movement or any sign of life, you observed the bush with narrow eyes, paranoid.

“Are you alright Princess?” gwaine asked his horse matching your pace beside you, as he leaned to your ear, his hot breath fanning your face as he whispered. His brown eyes staring protectively at you.

“Hm? oh- yes fine…” you trailed off eyes never leaving the trees, your heart dropped to your stomach as you gripped the reigns tightly in your hands the leather straps rough against your skin as you squeezed tightly.

your twin daggers strapped to your hips, their weight giving you a sense of comfort as your brain started to catastrophize.

“You don’t look alright.” Gwaine pressed, his eyes flickering over your face protectively, You could tell he didn’t believe a thing you said. Ignoring the fluttering in your chest you couldn’t stop looking at the woods around you something felt off.

“There’s nothing there, princess.” The man reassured his voice stern but gentle, his hand placed over yours on the reigns. And his comforting hands over yours made you release your bruising grip on the reigns.

“I know, I just have…a bad feeling.” You murmur, your eyes swimming with worry a mix of familiar paranoia, and intuition.

gwaine was inclined to believe you and your bad feeling when he caught sight of a dark figure hidden behind trees.

The man had been hiding his own unsettling feeling since the moment your group ventured further into the forest, but Arthur appeared unaware of his sister, and her guards paranoia as he commanded the group, “we’ll stop here, let the horses rest.”

Arthur always had a voice that seemingly echoed even if he didn’t want it too, and by his tone of voice he wasn’t taking no for an answer.

Your eyes locked with Gwaines and it appeared the man didn’t have enough energy to mask his emotions this time. Anxiety was present in his eyes. A wave of nausea washed over you.

As Arthur lead the seven of you to a small grassed area surrounded by trees a small stream only a few steps away the soft continuous flow of water hid the shakiness of your breaths as you shrugged your leg over your stallion, your leg leaving his stirrup as you hit the floor, Gwaine already circling around to you his reigns in hand as you lead your horses to the river.

“I have a bad feeling still. and I know you do too. Do not lie to me gwaine.” You pleaded to the man as you lead your horse to the stream and your hands run over your horses back as he drinks beside you. The cool breeze blowing under your cape.

“Please, Princess. I don’t want to worry you.” Gwaine eventually says his gaze lowered onto the stream at your feet.

“Please gwaine, you know nothing scares me.” You tease bumping his arm with yours but your voice betrays you it shakes as you speaks. you had lied to him you were scared. who wouldn’t be, you may have had the knights of Camelot to guard you but it would do nothing if you were caught by surprised and surrounded. Which was easier to do the longer you waited.

Gwaines gloved hand came out to hold yours in a tight grip, “nothing will happen to you princess I swear.” The dark haired man promises his dark eyes stern with promise.

Before you could reply to the man the whiz of an arrow souring past your head and shouts of your friends alert you to your fears and you whip your head up quickly looking into the trees around you, a large group of 60 men clad in dark clothes surrounded you.

Bandits working for morgana, great.

Sharing a look with Gwaine the man draws his sword and a smug smile graces his lips at the idea of a fight and you can’t help but think he looks really hot but the fight around you snaps you from your daydream and alerts you to pull your daggers from their sheaths.

And they glint dangerously in the light the shouts of your friends in your makeshift camp only a few few feet away, fades into nothingness far too focused on yourself and gwaine to worry for your friends. They had more knights than you and Gwaine did.

But by the sheer volume of bandits around, you and gwaine began to realise just how much trouble you’re really in. gravitating toward eachother you stood back to back as the leering bandits drew closer.

“Stay close Princess I’ll take majority. if they come at you, you know what to do?” Gwaine asked his sword out infront of him protectively

“Kill em?” You look up at the man with a tilt of your head a mischievous look in your eyes and the knight beside you laughs

“Yeah, kill em.” The raven haired man looks at you with a smug, slightly proud smirk on his face and he gentle elbows you to focus,

So you Hold up your daggers to protect your face an equally smug smile draws across your lips and in a blink of an eye the fight begins.

the silver sword of one man goes to come down on you and you parry it with ease holding it away from you as you slash across his chest with your other dagger, as his body leans to the side you plunge your weapon into his chest his blood staining your silver blade, and you watch in morbid curiosity as the man groans and he falls to the forest floor dead.

You don’t bat an eye at the corpse, Instead you find yourself ducking a long sword from another bandit as the whiz of arrows fly around you, you can’t see Gwaine in your periphery too busy avoiding the large man infront of you as he stalks toward you. no matter your height he seems to be giant.

“You’re going to die little dragon.” He laughs his voice like charcoal and his sword held easily in his hands

“No. I’m not.” You sneer spinning your dagger in your hand and planting your feet into the mud more as he goes to slash at your torso you leap backwards out of the way, he’s as slow as he is big but the power of his hits shake the very earth beneath your feet.

And what’s worse his powerful hits are full of accuracy, as he whirls around to hit you again and both daggers go to hold him off, the sounds of your blades grinding together hurts your ears and you grind your teeth determined to not die by this giant.

pushing his sword to the ground you surge forward planting your dagger into an artery by his leg in retaliation the giants blade comes towards you at full force his swing takes you off guard and you narrowly miss his blow that was meant to sever your head from your neck. and in doing so you don’t pay attention to the pain that lands itself in your shoulder.

The adrenaline masks any pain, but you’re angry now the smug smile of the bandit infront of you angers you so much you take your dagger in your hand and fling it into the eye of the giant Infront of you and the sharpness of your dagger embeds itself into his eye socket. His eye makes a horrid squish as blood and juices squirt. And the man drops dead beside you. Bus long sword falling beside him.

You sneer and grab your dagger from his eye and as you pull it from the socket more blood squirts, you exclaim in disgust as his blood stains your face

An angry shout from a small dirty blonde bandit fills the air as he makes quick action toward you his battle cry falling on deaf ears and you go to throw your dagger, gwaine beats you too it his sword lacerate the man’s throat and he falls dead easily.

Breathing a sigh of relief you look to the brunette knight and he nods in respect before going to fight more of the approaching bandits.

The sound of twigs breaking behind you urge you to duck and you narrowly miss a sword meant for your head instead you grab the man’s arm and fling him over you as he hits the ground with a groan, he lays underneath you as you prepare to plunge your dagger in his chest. his legs sweep yours and you too end up on your back beside the man and your weapon lays just out of reach as the man crawls ontop of you.

His hands grip your throat tightly and your eyes blow wide in panic as your claw at his hands it’s useless so your fingers vacate to his face and your fingers lodge into his eye sockets as his grip on your throat tightens

“Come on!” Your mind screams at you as blackness swims in your vision before a sword lodges through the man’s chest and drenches you in his blood Gwaine is there standing above you as he watches you cough desperate for air. His eyes filled with worry as he gives you his hand helping you to your feet as you continue to wheeze lungs screaming for air.

“Are you alright princess?!” His hands grip your biceps as he pulls you to his chest hands holding the back of your head in worry

“I’m fine, pretty boy. Thanks for saving me.” You nod at the man but your hands shake as gwaine hands you your discarded weapons the daggers bring you comfort as you look at the world around you still there are more bandits around you but it appears many have dissipated.

Whether they have retreated, or they’ve gone to cause your friends havoc you aren’t sure but you can’t find yourself to worry for your friends. You’re too busy looking into gwaines chocolate brown eyes, and you can’t help but place a kiss to gwaines cheek when you pull back from his bearded face you catch sight of an approaching man.

“DUCK!” You scream and the knight ducks just in time. You quickly bring one of your dagger to block their sword as they manoeuvre their blade back and then you both fall into a kind of deadly dance pushing further and further away from Gwaine. Your blades mash against each other and you continue to miss his slashes and jabs.

The bandit moves his sword quickly, too quick to dodge and he manages to cut off a piece of your hair and slice your cheek your blood begins to trickle down your face and in anger you jam your dagger through his leather armour and directly into the man’s heart.

His blade falls from his hold and he drops limply. His eyes glare at you the entire time his body fails him. The body collapses onto the bottom of you cape staining the purple darker with blood and you make the decision to cut the latch dropping your cloak so that nothing holds you down.

Your tunic, and pants cling to your body tightly stained with the blood of your enemies, you don’t care not about the bodies littering the forest floor, or the wetness in your boot from stepping through the stream for better ground to fight on. Not about your friends and if they’re fighting an onslaught of bandits. All you care about is not dying.

The volume of men have dipped significantly but there are still 4 or 5 of them and one man left is an archer quickly loading his bow and releasing the arrows at yourself and Gwaine, if you two were worse fighters he would’ve loaded quite a few into the pair of you marching toward the man you hold your daggers outward crimson blood drops from the tip and soaks quickly into the squishy mud ridden forest floor. The bandit quickly loads an arrow and lets it fly, you avoid his shot with ease ducking beneath it he knocks another and fires it in quick succession and you find yourself skidding against the mud it coats your pants as you miss his fire and the man is panicked now as you stand up,

And you watch his hands shake as he tries to load his bow, it’s too late, you’re on top of the man. “Please! Please your grace, Spare me. I have children! please” He whimpers beneath you and your heart aches in your chest

As your eyes rake the man’s figure you make the decision to hit him over the head with the butt of your dagger and you don’t spare the man another glance before you walk away.

Turning your back to the archer you observe the carnage, Gwaine had gotten quite a few bandits defeated in quick time, the man now intense fight with probably the best bandit here. he’s quick, and talented with a sword.

But Gwaine keeps his own, and you deem it safe enough to not watch the man anymore instead you find yourself up against the final man he’s large like the man you fought before, but this man is smart.

And his dagger drips with something other than blood, a deep blue, oozing liquid? poison. You quickly realise

And now you’re sure you never want to let this man’s weapon touch you. his stinking grey teeth peak through his lips as he sizes you up, the princess of Camelot, clearly exhausted. Clearly covered in a mix of blood and mud, and very obviously in pain. The giants sword from before had managed to rattle your teeth with his hit but you’d been so distracted it hadn’t even registered. clearly the adrenaline of your other injuries had began to wear off.

And This man is quicker then expected as he hurries to you, his sword cuts through the air like butter and he’s clearly just as skilled as the man battling against gwaine. And looking back on it they seemed to be twins.

the moment his blade comes too close for comfort you’re parrying his strike, and the grinding of blades are deafening in your ears.

the ache in your shoulder swells through you the gruesome cut oozing and it makes your strength falter you move slower the burning pain shooting through your shoulder sends you waves of more then just discomfort.

you feel bile well in your throat but you don’t falter as you slash at the bandit he avoids it with ease, every duck, every twirl, every slice, he avoids.

It’s like he’s been watching you? observing your moves? and it’s abundantly clear even with the exhaustion plaguing your muscles and the slick mud beneath you. It makes you worried.

Springing back away from the man you slash at his shoulder nicking him with the blade and watching as he cringes back in more annoyance than pain. and when his sword goes to make contact with your body you duck away from the man until eventually you find yourself behind him

just when things began to look up, just when you were finally winning.

Until The pained shout from gwaine only a few feet away causes you to lose focus and your gaze is set on the Irish man on the floor his chain mail dirty, his face covered in blood and mud, his hair a mess, and a sword held above the man. In a deadly fashion.

And your body moves before your mind and you find yourself flinging your dagger into the bandits back watching satisfied as the man falls dead over the top of gwaine, letting out a sigh of relief at the sight you completely forget that you were mid fight with a bandit yourself. A bandit with a blade coated in poison.

“Y/n!” Before you can get your bearings in order gwaines shouting Your name

And you turn just in time to see the man drive his sword in your side and you whip your head up to look at the man who just stabbed you a horrid smile on his face, as the sharp searing pain of a sword impaling you burns your insides. your warm blood trickles from the wound around the sword, and you drop your spare dagger to the floor unconsciously you seemingly have no control of your body, and your eyes shine with unshead tears. It’s the worst pain you’ve ever felt in your entire life like the world is spinning and your side feels like it’s on fire.

The man stand carelessly above you smiling a sickly smile as he rips his blade out of you and you don’t muffle your shout of pain, you know you’re going to die when the man brings his sword up to cut you down and your tears fall you can’t bare to look at his face your mind filling with thoughts of gwaine if you were going to die you’d die with the man you loved on your mind.

Shutting your eyes tightly you expect the killing blow, only to feel nothing? Cracking an eye open Gwaine’s sword embeds itself directly in the bandits heart, you watch as gwaine pulls his sword out quickly and rushes to your aid as he watches your knees buckle. And you don’t go to stop your knees from colliding with the mud instead your shaky hands go to hold your bleeding wound, your hand immediately stain with blood when they come into contact with the wound.

Gwaine Holds your bloody form in his arms your hands stained with your blood you feel sick to your stomach, and sweat begins to break on your forehead, you feel like you’re already losing feeling in your feet.

As Gwaines strong arms wrap around you as the knight lifts you up against him, his arms around your knees and shoulders respectively.

He moves quickly to the rest of the knights, and despite the delirius state you’re in from the lack of blood you can only heart your heart beat in your ears but everytime he runs you see a glimpse of his face and you can see he’s screaming.

Your heart constricts in your chest and you whimper in his arms “j-just hold me.”

the man looks down at you with eyes full of tears and that shine with something akin to love. But almost as quickly as the shine came its gone, replaced with fear. It makes Gwaine tighten his grip on you and scream louder

And through the blurriness of your vision you see your brothers scared face break the tree line and b-line to you, as your head lulls to the side you watch Arthur get closer to you and you feel him take you in his arms, sobs escape the young kings as he slumps to his knees you in his embrace “y/n- c/h/n, please don’t do this to me.”

Arthur mutters rocking you back and forth and you see Merlin over his shoulder, face white as a ghost. Hands tightly held over his mouth, and the last thing you see is the servant boy boss the knights around with commands about how to help you, before the darkness takes you.

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊

There’s a guttural ache in your bones from the fight and a dull burning from your stomach it’s accompanied with a hard pressure on your wound that makes you yell out a sickening blood curdling scream and by the feeling of multiple hands holding you down to stop the thrashing it’s abundantly clear Merlin’s trying his best to save you.

Your brothers hands are familiar as they grip your shoulders, holding you down, you’re alive, mentally you’re awake but you can’t open your eyes.

You can’t control your own twitching body, the wet feeling of your sticky blood on your side, but you can hear every little thing around you, and yet you still can’t open your eyes and there’s this horrible wheezing sound.

And you come to realise it’s your breathing…it feels like you’re breathing through sand and every breath you take fills your lungs with sand like an hour glass.

and then you feel that familiar pressure on your wound and suddenly you feel everything, every burning stabbing sensation, all over your body it burns as quickly and as hot as a wild fire and it feels like hours before you finally feel absolutely nothing again.

And you think maybe it lasts for awhile, but there’s no way to tell time. It’s funny when you can see nothing but the back of your eyelids and the world is dark and you can’t feel the muddy floor beneath your back. you can’t feel the sticks, and the dirt, and the sound of the stream, you can’t smell your brothers familiar scent, you can’t feel the wetness of your boot, or the dried blood on your body, and you can’t see gwaines face.

Or hear his comforting voice, you can’t discern anything but blankness and you half think you’ve stopped breathing. As if your very lungs don’t heave against the poison in your blood stream anymore

But you think whilst you’re trapped in darkness that Your nose bleeds, and your mouth fills with red blood and those who surround your body begin to realise how dire every second is.

Merlin is the only one who can save you. He’s the only one who can rip deaths cold hands from your body and ground you to earth. your chest doesn’t rise.

and those around you know you’re dead. And you can’t feel it yourself, like your spirit is lifting from the cage that is your body up into the sky, ripping through you and part of you is ready to go.

But Gwaine and Merlin will not allow it, Gwaine drops beside your body his hands pumping your chest to start your heart and his lips are on yours pumping oxygen into your lungs.

and it gives Merlin enough time to mutter a healing spell his eyes glow gold and its mere moments that your translucent spirit ripping from your vessel slams back into your body.

Gwaine still continues his assault on your ribs breathing air into your lungs, he ignores the metallic taste from your lips, and he pleads with every god he can that you will come back to him.

And it’s almost as if the gods deem him worthy.

And you wake up gasping for air springing up from your brothers hold your eyes snapping open your chest heaves with effort to fill your lungs and your heart beat is sluggish before beating hard and strong against your chest.

And Merlin’s hands are on your side checking your wound the gaping hole sealed, and Your wound is practically gone. The servant boy quickly bandages your side before anyone can notice but his bandages

Can’t hide the gross greeny purple tendrils that peak out from the off white plaster. Your side feels clean but the blood still sticks to your face and the pain in your side and shoulder still lingers but you can’t bring yourself to care when gwaine gently takes you from your brothers embrace and hold you so gently against him.

“Oh Princess, never do that to me again.” His calloused hands hold you against him tightly and he tries to mask their shaking.

But you don’t care pulling back from his holds Your eyes take his figure and you can’t help yourself, You smash your lips against his and his beard tickles your skin. and it takes him no time to kiss back his lips mash against yours in a feverish kiss. It’s like your lips fit together perfectly and you find yourself wishing to never let go of the knight in front of you.

His tears fall onto your skin and you don’t care, you pull him closer to your body and you don’t care when your lungs burn screaming for air.

You never want to be apart from him.

Not when you just tasted the sour nothingness of death. It doesn’t wait. It’s cold, and uncaring.

And Gwaine feels your hands shake as you pull him closer his heart physically hurts for you he’s sure you’re probably freaking out.

After you pull back from your kisses you look at the faces of your friends around you, Arthur’s blood shot eyes filled with tears stare at you with such fear, such uncertainty.

the ghostly look in his eyes as he looks at you tugs your heart strings. You realise he can’t differentiate if you’re truly here. And alive he had just seen his sister die. And be brought back.

Of course it would be a lot to process.

beside you Merlin his shaky hands and nervous smile his red hands stained with your blood, and his wet teary face that looks so scared as he looks at you with a mixture of nervousness at the use of his magic and happiness you’re alive.

And your eyes flicker to everyone around you from Leon, who you’ve known since childhood- to elyan, and Percival. who you haven’t known for such a long time but still felt their world shake when your heart stopped beating. You were their princess to see you die in front of them…it was heavy.

Your dead body would haunt them for the rest of their days,the cold desolate blue of your lips and the way your head lulled in gwaines arms.

Tears littered everyone’s eyes as your brother and Gwaine were the first to pull you into an embrace the rest of your friends quickly followed, their iron grip on you brought you so much love and peace.

A chorus of “I’m glad you’re alive” to “good to have you back” ranged from your friends before elyan was the first person to suggest moving to a safer area the unsettling feeling of the corpses scattered around you all made you uneasy, it especially made Gwaine the most uneasy, the man couldn’t stop his intrusive thoughts what if it was you they were leaving behind? What if you died and your corpse was left to decay on the muddy floor of the forest no one around to mourn you it made him feel a bit unwell.

So finally you all high tailed it out of there to a new camp well maned by your friends, a camp where absolutely no one could ambush you. Where it was safe enough for Merlin to patch up your friends injuries.

And night fell quickly the stars shone overhead the green grass served as a pillow under your head and the rocks surrounding you like a barrier from bandits.the ruins of an old castle like a comforting shield and The slight hill you all now camped on was far out of the forest of the rival kingdom where you all were ambushed, finally on safe ground.

Merlin had stayed close to you for most of the early evening to ensure you were alright. And that he didn’t seal up any left over poison.

Crickets chirped in the back ground as yourself and Merlin sat in silence staring at the fire. You turned to the boy, speaking gently “thank you, I know what you did.”

You smiled at the boy, a knowing glint in your eye and Merlin felt his heart drop as he shrugged

“It’s what anyone would have done, milady. I’m glad you’re still with us” Merlin smiled kindly he had a soft spot for the youngest pendragon she was always kind to him, and unlike her sister her perception of him didn’t change. Out of every pendragon she was probably the one Merlin trusted with his secrets the most.

You were Always clever and observant, you were definitely someone he’d protect with his life just like Arthur.

“That’s the thing though, Merlin. I was gone…I wasn’t- my heart stopped” you struggled to find the words putting your legs to your chest as you watched the flames

“I was dead. I felt my heart stop, my heart knew what was happening my- my soul? Was leaving my body and something pulled me back in. It wasn’t Gwaines kiss of life although it did help” you chuckled before you became serious again “It was you Merlin.” You spoke your voice shaky but sure of yourself as you looked the boy in his terrified eyes

“Please y/n It’s not like that.” Merlin pleaded, his hand reaching for you and his skin getting sweaty and nervous at the thought of the youngest pendragon knowing he had magic, it wasn’t that he didn’t trust her on the contrary he trusted her whole heartedly but he was always nervous to let people in on his magic it tended to get them killed.

Will, His father, Lancelot… Merlin hated how his magic could save lives but in the end he’s always lose something he hoped this time things would be different.

“I know magic when I see it Merlin, don’t worry I’d never tell. You saved my life. I should have you knighted” You smiled at the boy, before bumping your shoulders together.

“Oh please don’t-“ Merlin started disgust in his voice at the idea of joining your friends as a knight laughing at Merlin’s horrified face

“Don’t worry, I won’t. But really thank you Merlin. You deserve more credit” you smiled at the boy before pushing off of the ground and making your way to Gwaine over by the ruins watching the stars through the window on the second story lost in thought

“Mind if I join you?” You called, watching as the Irish man jumped clumsily almost falling through the window.

“Not not at all, please sit” Gwaine replied shuffling over sitting beside the man you watched the stars from the window in silence for a moment

“I’m sorry” you both spoke at the same time, swallowing a laugh at the unintentional overlap

“You go” you pressed sitting up and looking at Gwaine intently

“I’m sorry, I’m the reason you died…I didn’t protect you. It was my only job and I let you get stabbed.” Gwaine shook his head the man couldn’t bare to look at you in your eyes too afraid he’d see your lifeless ones staring back in a way he was thankful your eyes shut when you died.

In a way it looked like you were sleeping, only the lack of a rise and fall of your chest showed gwaine that you weren’t just sleeping. You were dead and it was gwaines fault.

The man blamed himself, kept running through the last battle moments over and over in his head. If he didn’t shout, if he was quieter maybe everything could have been avoided, or if he listened to your funny feeling maybe you all never would have even been ambushed.

It made Gwaine start to appreciate his friends “funny feelings” something Merlin and the youngest pendragon both shared Gwaine couldn’t get the thoughts out of his head that he was the reason everything happened.

“Gwaine” you placed your hand over his, “it wasn’t your fault, I know what you’re doing. Stop blaming yourself.” Your grip on gwaines hands tightened trying to reassure him it could have happened to anyone.

“But I should have listened to you. I didn’t and you died! You fucking died!” Gwaine cries, his hands cover his mouth to mask his sob he’s striped himself of his chain mail now he’s left wearing a blue tunic and a leather bangle that clings to his muscley arm you know it’s not the right time but god does he look good.

“Gwaine.” You shout shaking his shoulders so he’ll finally look at you

“Just shut up and kiss me.” You sigh in the silver light of the moon, its only Gwaine and yourself in the ruins and you want to take full advantage of that

“Yes Princess”

#Gwaine x reader #bbc merlin imagine #bbc Merlin x reader #gwaine x fem reader #gwaine #bbc merlin

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