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writing-good-vibes · 2 years ago

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meetings in parking lots

corey and mr allen meet again, one last time. i've found my niche, it seems, and instead of working on a good project i write this. i feel like this and my previous fic are in a sort of self contained au.

WARNINGS for corey cunningham x mr allen relationship, angst, smut, car sex, more direct implications of sex work, unhealthy relationship dynamics, mentions of child death, mentions of court proceedings and mentions of cheating.

Mr Allen is on his way to work when he sees Corey, dishevelled and half-stumbling down the sidewalk outside the Tramer car dealership.

He'd seen Corey hundreds of - or thousands, it feels like - times since the accident. At first it was during the trial, where he'd watch Corey shift uncomfortably in his cheap suit. Rarely would Corey look up from the plywood desk he and his lawyer sat behind, but when he did his eyes were wet and wide behind his glasses, refusing to make eye contact with anyone at all.

Then, after the verdict was read, Corey might of been a free man but he certainly didn't act like it, the way he barely left the house. Mr Allen was still on leave from work and had far too much time on his hands. He counted the wood slats of the Cunninghams' front porch and every window pane, waiting for Corey to leave.

Outside the psychiatrists office, Mr Allen sat and wondered what Corey was saying in there, if he was still as remorseful as he made out in court. Wondered if he talked about other things too, about what goes on at home. If he elaborates on the snippets of information he'd sometimes give Mr Allen when he was feeling vulnerable enough.

Occasionally, Mr Allen would see Corey following Joan around on some errands - the grocery store, the bank, Hobby Lobby - in the days before she set him up at the call centre. He'd keep his head down, always hiding behind his mother even though he was several inches taller than her. People always looked at him, sneered and whispered behind his back. The comments made to his face were frequent at first, but slowly they became few and far between, especially when Joan was there. For all Corey had told him about her, she barked back at anyone who tried to provoke her son in public.

Mr Allen, in all his bitterness, was starting to feel sorry for him.

This wasn't like those other times, though. Not at all.

"Corey?"

The younger man looks over at the car, pulled to a stop at the curb. He stoops down to look through the passenger window, taking an uncertain step forward until he locks eyes with Mr Allen.

They both look older. Corey has a boyishness about him that isn't easily lost, but the stubble on his jaw and the coldness of his eyes do a good job of diminishing it. And it truly is his eyes that shock Mr Allen the most. Corey had been a lot of things but cold was never one of them. Corey looked downright dangerous.

Mr Allen pushes the thought from his mind, supresses the surprising sense of fear that rises in him like bile, "Want a ride?"

A heavy pause descends upon them and that childish nervousness he always had seems to pass through Corey again, makes him look more recognisable. But then he nods curtly, pulls open the door and climbs into the passenger seat.

It's then that Mr Allen really takes in Corey's appearance. His clothes are dirty, there's a still-wet scrape on his cheek and he has dried blood around his nostrils. Mr Allen gestures to his own nose, "What happened?"

"I got jumped." Corey doesn't elaborate, and Mr Allen doesn't press for details.

For a few blocks, they ride is silence. The rumble of traffic around them buffers the awkwardness. Corey looks straight ahead, watching the brake light of the car in front of them.

"It's been a while," Mr Allen finally manages.

"Yeah..."

"How are things at home?"

Corey closes his eyes against the déjà vu that washes over him. How many summer days had started with a question like that? "Fine. My momma's fine. Ronald's still around; I work for him at Prevo now."

It's nothing, barely a glimpse into Corey's life, but it feels personal - too personal - after so long. Having knowing his schedule like the back of his hand, Mr Allen is relieved to feels like he doesn't know anything about Corey at all.

Mr Allen hums, something noncommittal but polite. He doesn't offer anything in return, even though he has enough to tell, and Corey doesn't ask. Silence falls over them again and if it weren't from the lingering taste of fear in his mouth, Mr Allen could almost forget who was sat beside him.

He's concentrating on the road when he feels Corey lean in closer, over the centre console. Feels his hot breath on his neck.

"Do you remember the first time?" Corey murmurs. A familiar hand drifts towards his belt, tracing the buckle. My first time, goes unsaid.

Mr Allen pushes him away, back into the passenger seat, with a hand on his chest. He shakes his head. He remembers, but he is not going to entertain this conversation.

"There's an empty lot down by the railroad. No one would see us."

"That isn't what this is," Mr Allen grits out. "I didn't pick you up to get my rocks off."

"Why not? Am I not good enough for you anymore? I was good enough when you were cheating on your wife with me," Corey's lip curls into a half smirk before it drops again and his eyes return to the road.

"And then you killed my son," Mr Allen snaps, hands tight on the wheel, "so I think we're even." He glances over at Corey.

Corey lets out a huff through his nose, and Mr Allen isn't sure if the younger man is going to laugh or cry. His eyes are wet. He's skittish in the way his confidence waxes and wanes.

Silence descends once more.

At the next junction, Mr Allen pulls off and heads, wordlessly toward the railroad. As they get closer, Corey gives clipped directions; "Left here", "Straight on", "On the right, there."

They drive down an alley between two warehouses and into the empty lot. The lot itself is small but secluded, backing onto the train tracks and surrounded by rarely-visited warehouses.

Corey doesn't wait, as soon as the handbrake is on he is climbing over the console and into Mr Allen's lap. He pulls the seat lever without warning and Mr Allen jolts as the seat slides back and reclines enough to give Corey room to move. Even then, it's cramped, especially with how broad Corey has always been and even more so now; Corey's knees dig into the door on one side and the console on the other, and he has to duck his head to avoid hitting it on the roof.

The younger man rocks his hips, he looks so languid doing it, but the force he uses feels desperate. Mr Allen can already feel his erection through Corey's filthy jeans.

Corey leans forward and breaths heavily against Mr Allen's neck, hands clutched on his shoulders as he grinds. "Just like old times," he says, and the words spill into a childish laugh.

No sooner had he started, he drops to his knees in the footwell, wrestles with Mr Allen's belt.

It had been a while.

Mr Allen can see it in his eyes; a second of hesitation, just like the first time and every time after. The look passes before Corey slackens his jaw, minds his teeth, and takes him all the way down.

With no reason to keep up appearances so much, Corey had stopped styling his hair. Instead of being smoothed back like Mr Allen was used to, it hangs in curls over his forehead. Mr Allen brushes them back with his fingers, a gesture that makes Corey look up at him from beneath his lashes. Mr Allen smiles down at him.

When Corey finally retreats, drool dripping down his chin that he wipes away with grazed knuckles, he climbs back up into the passenger seat so he can kick off his shoes. He takes his jeans and underwear off in one go. If Mr Allen thought his jeans were dirty, his underwear was just as bad. God, what happened to this kid when he got jumped?

But there's no time to dwell on those implications because this is happening, and for all Mr Allen has been through, he thinks he may as well enjoy it. He makes no attempt at his own clothes, watching Corey's manic movements instead.

The younger man is naked when he clambers back to Mr Allen; bruises litter his chest and back, his neck looks raw like someone tried to strangle him, the scrape on his cheek is starting to scab up. Mr Allen can't help but marvel, just a little bit, at how this young man who used to blush crimson at being called a good boy is now here, sucking his own fingers to lube up in an empty lot.

Mr Allen grunts like he's been winded when Corey finally sinks down onto his cock. He lifts himself up just as quickly, before setting a determined pace. Corey's chest heaves as he pants, he moans every time he finds just the right angle.

Mr Allen stares. This isn't the same Corey who would pout and whimper. This Corey is filthy, working only towards his own end.

They haven't kissed yet. Corey had always been hesitant to kiss, as though it was more complicated than their fucking. He'd wait for Mr Allen to make the first move, every time, but when he was hazy with how good he felt, he'd melt into it, never the first to break away. Kissing doesn't even cross Mr Allen's mind this time.

Corey groans, one hand pressed against the driver's side window. The other, wrapped in a dirty bandage, is braced against the seat behind Mr Allen's shoulder.

Mr Allen has never felt more like a spare part than he does right now. "Look at you," he says, trying to give himself some semblance of purpose during this encounter. His thumbs rub circles on Corey's wide hips, around to the dimples on his back. "You've always been so easy. It suits you."

Corey's breath hitches, he moans and keens and doesn't try to hide even one single sound that leaves his lips. He comes without touching himself; keeps going until Mr Allen grunts and he can feel the warmth of his release inside him.

Mr Allen zips his fly back up while Corey slows gets dressed in the passenger seat, "You used to be such a good boy."

"Good boys don't fuck married men," Corey's nose scrunches into a frown.

Mr Allen shakes his head. Maybe the younger man is right, maybe he knew that back then too. Knew that Corey wanted to be wanted, no matter the cost. "No, but good boys let married men fuck them." It's a half-joke, Mr Allen excepts a laugh. Corey always laughed at his jokes.

Instead, Corey half-smirks again, "Did Mrs Allen ever find out what you did?"

"No," he sighs, "After everything that happened, an extramarital affair barely made the Top 5 of things we had to worry about."

"That's a funny way of saying you got away scot-free."

"Scot-free? My marriage still got ruined. Scot-free..." he shakes his head. "Things would have been a lot worse for you too, you know, if anyone found out."

"Worse for me? Worse than being called a kid killer?"

"You want 'jealous homewrecker' added to that?" Mr Allen asks, and Corey squirms. "Because they could have had a field day with that one: so obsessed with a married man that you kill his child."

Mr Allen is being cruel, and he knows it. Corey is about as far from being a jealous homewrecker as he could get, the way he'd revered the Allen family like they were the pinnacle. The way he still worried about keeping their yard looking nice even when he was on his back.

"You started it, all of it," Corey retorts. Then, mumbling, "I'd never even been kissed before... now look at me." He pulls his shirt on over his head.

Mr Allen drops Corey off down the block from his house, so his momma doesn't see them. The last thing he needs is more of an interrogation than he's already going to get for having stayed out all night.

With one hand on the door handle, Corey looks back at Mr Allen and that half-smirk returns to his lip, "So, do I still get my $50?" The smirk spreads out into a grin. It's so unlike Corey that Mr Allen can only stare for a moment.

Corey doesn't look back as he walks up the street, away from Mr Allen in his expensive car. Out in the fresh air, his mind races; Mr Allen is somehow the least interesting thing to happen to him in the past 12 hours. Corey has something - someone - else to consume his thoughts, someone... ineffable.

Absently, he folds the fifty dollars, shoving it in the back pocket of his jeans. Muscle memory.

Corey locks himself in the bathroom when he gets home, even with his momma knocking incessantly, demanding he let her in. He strips down to his underwear and runs the sink. Looks at himself in the vanity mirror and bites his lip to stop himself from just screaming.

Swill. Spit. Scrub.

Roger knew who Laurie Strode was. Everyone knew who Laurie Strode was, but he'd never actually met her before.

Lindsey introduces them at Velkovsky's, says Laurie's granddaughter is seeing Corey and she wants to hear his opinion on the matter. The revelation surprises him, although he knows it shouldn't.

"Corey had always been a good kid," Roger says, "Some kids are assholes, but not Corey." He expects Laurie to say something, but she stays quiet, intent on listening to every word he says.

He recounts the months and months of dirty looks and faux-outrage he'd witnessed. Thinks about it and, after seeing Corey again, truly understands the anger he felt towards those people. Corey was his to hate, no one else's.

"I saw him yesterday, on my way to work, and I thought 'I'm going to offer him a ride, finally put this misery to bed'," he regrets his choice of words, can feel his hands clam up as he continues, "but then I looked at him, really looked at him, and it's not him. Not in the eyes, anyway."

Laurie nods. Roger can see that she understands what he means, understands on a level he didn't think anyone else would.

He takes a deep breath, mulls over his words. He'd barely admitted it to himself, but he knows Laurie will understand this too, "I know the kid who mowed our lawn didn't kill my son, but the guy I saw yesterday could have done it without a second thought."

A moment passes and the three of them sit there, letting their thoughts settle around them.

"Did you give him a ride?" Laurie asks, there's a hint of humour in her voice, dredged in despair. She thinks she knows the answer.

Roger shakes his head, "I couldn't. I drove away."

#corey cunningham #halloween eneds #corey cunningham x roger allen #corey cunningham x mr allen #bisexual corey truther #oh how the turn tables. corey is using mr allen this time (sort of)#using roger (safe) to process his emotions about michael (dangerous)#cunningallen

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erikalentz · 2 years ago

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Half Moon Datas #7: The Way Home

First part here

After finding out the missing alpinists and Logan in a cavity in White Veil, Althea and her Pokemon Team worked together to bring them in her laboratory to free them of their cryogenized state. It wasn’t all that easy given the size of the ice blocks, but they managed to reduce them to a transportable form and safely guiding them out of the (former) forbidden land.

When everyone gets back at the facility, the detective put the blocks in an examination room. She did analysis on the ice to know the ideal temperature to melt the cold cocoons and warm up the bodies back to normal… But aside from that, she thought of how to help the four men in their awake. Althea knows that they’re alive thanks to their thoughts and their slow-but-present heartbeats (confirmed by said analysis on the bodies), but they’ve been unable to move for more than a decade… Their particular state likely preserved their original condition from the time the Mega Abomasnow froze them, but the risk of developing a physical of cognitive disability still exist. She would feel horrible to bring back missing people to their families, but they wouldn’t be able to live in the present day and their state would sadden their loved ones.

Medicine and scientific research has made huge steps in ten years, and many organizations specialized in this like the Aether Foundation and the reformed Galaxy Facility (formerly Team Galactic) leaded by Saturn. Healing people and Pokemon became easier and much more efficient than before; the Pokemon Centers are a good example of it. It’s possible to medically accompany someone without suffering side effects - or at least not heavy ones -, but Althea wants to certainly heal the cryogenized victims. After a thoughtful reflection, the detective remembers an old tale she read in an old expedition book she got in a resale store narrating the existence of rare spices with exceptional healing virtues: the Herba Mystica of Paldea. Those condiments were said to help bettering living beings’ metabolism, and even being able to recover from diseases. Although the notes from the book are considered fiction by the public, Althea knows that the border between reality and supernatural is feeble… They live in a world where creatures with incredible powers and deities exist, after all.

The young woman didn’t take long to find information about the most important people of Paldea, since most of them are publicly known - and she just needed to do a bit of digging to gather more intel. That’s how she contacts the local professors of the region: Sada and Turo. The couple of scientists work on the teracristallization phenomenon and also the development of medicine with the Herba Mystica. The reason for this is that a Pokemon resembling Misdreavus (a Flutter Mane who came to the present by an Ultra Wormhole) suddenly escaped from the Great Crater of Paldea and attacked people in its way, injuring their son Arven in the process. Sada and Turo then worked their hardest to heal their child and everyone who was hurt by the Pokemon, and they managed to do so thanks to the Herba Mystica they found in Area Zero. After Arven recovered from the incident, the Professors kept samples of the spices and did a plantation of it in their lab to study them and creating medicine with it so as to help critically injured and chronically ill people back to health.

Althea told them about the cryogenized victims she found in her region: who they are, how they ended up in this state, the circumstances of their disappearances and so on… The couple of professors were shocked when they learned what happened to the four men, especially Logan, and they didn’t hesitate to offer their help to heal them. Sada and Turo took numerous samples of Herba Mystica and cures they made, then they went to Sinnoh to the detective’s facility (Arven wanted to help too but he had exams at the Academy at that time, so he couldn’t come with his parents).

It took several hours for the ice blocks to completely melt away. As the bodies slowly heated up, Sada and Turo took care of their treatment to help them recover in their sleep while Althea looked at their condition with her holographic screens to make sure they’re okay and nothing wrong happen. After one night of work, the three adults’ efforts paid off: the alpinists and Logan are perfectly healthy, as if they’ve never been frozen for years. None of them suffer from physical after effect of the cold and their neuronal function are intact. The first to awake were the three climbers; some of their memories were blurry, but they remember their identity and their life. The detective briefly told them how she got them out of Mt. Coronet and how the couple of scientists how they free them from their state unscathed, before calling International Police agents living in Sinnoh and telling their case to them so they could safely accompany them in their return in society, both administratively and to be in page with the modern time. Althea doesn’t trust the Sinnoh Police in the slightest, but the International Police is an independent faction who’s renowned for their professionalism and for truly helping the population, so she’s more okay to be around them and ask them for help than the regular policeman.

Logan is the last person to awake from his state. After he opened his eyes, Althea and he talked with each other for a while; just like the alpinists, the man remembers who he is… And he especially remembers his wife Leila and his son Lucas, his dear family he loves. Hearing the boy’s name is hard to hear for the detective since Logan doesn’t know yet that his child disappeared, and she’s not eager at all to break the news to him (even if she knows what cover-up story to tell his parents to reassure them that she has a lead to find him)… However, now that he’s alive and well, Leila and Logan can be reunited for the time being.

Althea then revealed the whole ordeal to Dawn (who was understandably shocked, but then relieved to know that Lucas’ father is alive - as well as the other victims -) before discussing with Leila. The woman is kind and soft-spoken as usual, and the little group has a pleasant chat for a moment… Then the opportunity to talk about her husband arose, and Althea asked a few questions about him to her, whom Leila replied because she understands the researcher is a nice person without ill-intentions. When the detective asks her what she thinks about him now, Lucas’ mother paused before revealing that she always keeps her wedding ring in her clothes’ pockets since he disappeared in Mt. Coronet. Leila never believed her husband abandoned his family of his own volition and even if the police didn’t find him in the mountain and closed his case, she didn’t gave up her love for him and refused to marry another man and even be considered a widow until she has the undeniable proof of his death.

When they heard this, Althea and Dawn looked at each other for a few seconds before the telepath tell Leila she found an injured man and healed him… And that man is her husband Logan. The Rift Hunters guide the woman to the facility afterwards, to the man’s rest room… The two adults widened their eyes when they see each other. Logan recognized those long and cleans greyish blue hair and irises, tall silhouette and soft face… He instantly knew that she’s his wife. How could he forget the woman he loves? Meanwhile, Leila recognized those messy black hairs, black beard, dark blue irises, huge height and strong body, as well as those square but soft features on his face… There’s no doubt for Leila: it really is her beloved husband, and he’s alive, safe and sound. Tears then fell on their cheeks and they tightly embrace each other after a long minute of silence, relieved and happy to be together again after being forcibly separated for a decade.

The White Veil case finally ended.

The Rift Hunters managed to reunite a wife and a husband. They’ll now bring back a son to his family, as well as twin brothers.

#submas #original character #pokemon diamond and pearl #pokemon black and white #pokemon legends arceus #half moon au

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sydneyofalltrades · 1 year ago

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Another day, another Moni headcanon list hehe

Moni is a person who wakes up with back pain, a grumpy attitude, and hair that hasn’t been fixed since the Stone Age. Without four cups of coffee she WILL grab a knife

Moni flirts with everyone, especially when she doesn’t mean it. It’s never her fault, it’s just preprogrammed in her brain to be flirty with anyone so they’d be willing to take her in, but there are several occasions where she’s flirty on purpose to get a negative reaction and she loves it

Moni doesn’t really know how to cook or bake, she’s been forced to work with whatever she could back home so Constance gives her a few lessons and now she can properly make something for herself

Moni and Ricky will frequently have quiet moments where the two of them will just draw and take in each others’ company, switching sketchbooks and admiring the other’s work.

When Moni is in a situation that she knows damn well she’ll be in trouble with her mom for, she just speaks French the whole way through, acting like she doesn’t understand English, and usually whoever bothers her leaves or she manages to punch them

When Moni is high goddamn you do not want to be there. Noel frequently has to stop her from picking fights or doing doing something outlandish like jump from the school’s roof.

Moni is fiercely protective of people, whether they be her friends, her brother, a girl she had seen being harassed by some strange dude, she’ll never miss an opportunity to pick a fight for someone she cares about

When Moni was a kid, her great-grandparents called her Nini, a nickname she hadn’t heard in years. When her mother called her Nini one day after a long shift, Moni ran over and hugged her

Monique’s nicknames are Moni, Mon, Mon-Bon (coined by Constance), Nini, and Mo-Mo. Moni doesn’t usually let people give her nicknames so she usually just goes by her full name, but over time she lets others use Moni and it feels like a breath of fresh air

Moni does write poetry, but it’s not the best compared to the genius Noel comes up with. She’s more of a freelance writer, drafting ideas for stories she might want to tell, making short stories of her favorite memories

Moni has an aversion to the color pink, but she does mind it in small doses. However, what she doesn’t let on is she can and will adore a fully pink media if it was introduced to her properly

On the rare occasions Ocean is willing to have a break, the four girls will go on mall trips. But as Penny is the oldest of the four girls reality crashes down on them in the essence of the fact that they will spend their entire allowances in five stores. Moni was revoked from her credit card privileges for a month as a result

The first four months of Moni in Canada was a disaster bc she was still holding onto her life in France, storing food, staking out places that would be decent to spend the night, even keeping a list of possible guys she could charm into letting her stay. She had to unlearn five years of work and pain, but it was worth it

Moni and Mischa will meet once a week and just spend the night together, whether sitting outside smoking or coming up with lyrics for a new rap, or just indulging in their countries’ cuisine. They called it their “Miscasts Nights,” and it makes them both feel like they’re not alone

Noel and Moni will have sleepovers on the weekends. One of them will find a way into the other’s room and they’ll gossip and do each others’ nails and talk and joke around until the sun comes up or Mona comes home, and she’ll see them sleeping together like little kids and she’ll take pictures of her kids being real siblings

#moni gruber #ride the cyclone #rtc au #more moni headcanons to bless your day hehe #sydneys weirdness

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sallytheseamstress · 2 months ago

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"Hm, I mean... I'd really appreciate it, but I bet you're quite busy yourself," she replied. "There's no problem, really, I can do it myself." Sally wasn't a rare case, after all; everyone was up to their elbows in Halloween decorations, especially those who were, also, making sure they were properly prepared for the following holidays (since, as soon as Halloween ended, people were already managing everything for Christmas). "How's the dance school going, by the way? Are you doing something for the holidays?"

Sally glanced at where Nani was pointing, and scoffed. "These cameras are never on, it's just to deter potential troublemakers. Not that that works much, either." Even if they had caught them, Sally wasn't sure she would have done much about it. As much as she would have liked to see some consequences for those responsible for defacing the store, she was used enough to tricks and pranks like this to care too much, by the end of the day.

As busy as Nani was, she knew that such things really were a total pain in the neck. Even when the town and events committee seemed organised in giving the townsfolk something to do, there would still always be that demographic of super bored teens looking to cause a bit of chaos. "Do you need some help?" she offered, ignoring her own busy schedule. Poor Sally looked stressed to the max.

Nani took a look around, noting that there was a security camera high up on a nearby pole. "Did you get their faces?" she asked, gesturing to the camera.

#. nani pelekai #. sally finkelstein

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promptsinpanem · 2 years ago

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What Are the Odds (1/2)

Summary: When Katniss benefits from a stranger's generosity, she decides to pay it forward, starting with her neighbor, Peeta Mellark. Modern AU

Rating: T

Prompt: The One That Got Away

It's the story of her life, Katniss thinks, crouched on the dingy tiles of her apartment complex's communal laundry room floor – maybe she just isn't meant to have good things.

Above her, a fly repeatedly bumps into the humming fluorescent light on the ceiling, like it's desperately trying to escape, but can’t figure its way out. Katniss can relate.

She looks back down at the pile of her still-damp clothes that someone had tossed from the dryer onto a puddle of bleach on the floor. It's mostly stuff Katniss wears around the apartment. Ratty t-shirts. Underwear that no one sees these days but her. The real kicker is what happened after, when she tried to gather it all up, not yet knowing what they were sitting in. Yeah, she’d smelled the bleach, but the whole room always reeks of bleach. She didn’t think anything of it until it dripped onto the front of her pants, which, up until a few minutes ago, were probably the nicest thing she's ever owned in her life. And now they're ruined.

Last weekend, she and Prim had spent an entire Saturday in the city. They browsed the bookstore all morning and then shared a small frozen hot chocolate in the cafe. Lunchtime was spent wandering around the gourmet grocery store and grazing on cheese curds, organic granola served in tiny plastic cups, a sip of mango nectar, and tart clementine slices from the tables of free samples before scouring the nearby second-hand clothing shop for diamonds in the rough. According to Prim's friend Rue, this is where rich people donated their clothes, and you could find designer pieces for a fraction of the original cost if you only searched long enough.

In a rare stroke of luck, it only took a little over an hour when Prim squealed with delight as she held up a pair of black dress pants in one triumphant fist. In Katniss's size, no less. Rich, dark wool with a gleaming silver button adorning the front. At forty-two dollars, they were more than Katniss would have normally spent on herself, but at a ninety-percent markdown, Prim wouldn't let her pass them up. “Think of it as an investment,” she’d said.

Paired with a pearl-gray cardigan that Katniss got on clearance at Target and a smart white blouse she borrowed from her sister that's actually part of Prim's show choir uniform, she managed to look professional. Chic, even.

Until now. Dime-sized white splotches have already begun to form.

The door creaks open, and Katniss wills whoever it is to just go away, go away, go away.

“Katniss? You all right?”

Oh no. She recognizes that voice right away. It belongs to her next-door neighbor Peeta Mellark.

Since he moved in last year, they've exchanged hellos when passing each other in the hall, and he smiles at her in a way that makes her feel feverish and fluttery. Especially when he's still in the clothes he wears to work, dark slacks and button-down dress shirts with long sleeves that he usually rolls up past his forearms. She'll see him help carry in their neighbor Mags' groceries, hefting gigantic tubs of kitty litter – usually two at a time – like they weigh nothing. Or he'll be delivering fresh, homemade bread to Chaff, the disabled Vietnam vet who lives downstairs. And countless times Peeta has come to the door to bring back Prim's mangy cat Buttercup, who has a nasty habit of leaping from their balcony onto his, one time even knocking over his potted plants.

“You'd think I'm growing catnip instead,” he said with a grin the last time it happened, about a week ago.

“Maybe you are,” Katniss answered dryly. “Maybe it's all part of some plan to lure cats away from your neighbors.”

It was the longest sentence she'd ever spoken to him, and his smile widened. “Right. All part of my master plan, actually. But it's just the cats belonging to my pretty neighbors. Or...just the one. Then I finally have an excuse to talk to her.” He said it with such a sweet, almost shy, smile that it made Katniss want to press her cold hands to her rapidly flushing cheeks.

She smoothed imaginary wrinkles out of her t-shirt instead. “That, or you're just a serial killer in training.”

He laughed – a rich, masculine, musical sound. “Stealing cats, not killing them.” Buttercup hissed in response.

It was a nice encounter, but it left her feeling strangely vulnerable. It's why she doesn't want him seeing her like this right now. “I'm fine,” she tells him in a voice as emotionless as an android.

He sits beside her. “Anything I can do to help?” he asks.

She motions to the fallen clothing, to the bleach stains. “Find and kill whoever did this?”

The weight of a comforting hand rests on her shoulder. Then, as if he thinks better of it, Peeta moves the hand to his own knee instead. “As much as I'd love to, uh, avenge you, I have a better idea.” He gingerly lifts her laundry from the pungent liquid. “There's some fabric dye back at my apartment. I can check to see if I have anything that matches.” He stands, shifting her clothes so they rest in the crook of his bare arm, then reaches to help Katniss up with his free hand. As she stands, she takes him in more fully. Instead of his usual work attire, he has on paint-stained khakis and an old t-shirt sporting the mottled remains of an iron-on that looks like it might have been a bakery's logo. She can just make out the letters K-E-R-Y, and beneath it, a golden loaf of bread.

They make smalltalk, initiated by Peeta, as they climb the two flights of stairs to their shared floor. Peeta's apartment has a layout identical to the one Katniss shares with Prim, yet it couldn't be more different. His is tidier. With freshly painted walls. His furniture matches. Her couch at home is stained and threadbare, something she fished out of the dumpster last Spring.

“Can I get you anything?” Peeta asks, a shy smile spreading across his handsome face. There seems to be more color in his cheeks than there was before. “Something to drink? I have, uh...”

She shakes her head. He's already doing her a favor. She doesn't need to take anything else from him. “No, I'm good.”

“Oh...well, if you're not thirsty, I can get you something to eat. I just did some baking earlier. They say I make a mean cheese bun.”

Katniss must visibly perk up at the mention of cheese, because Peeta's off to the kitchen in a flash before she can even accept. He's back in record time with a cheese-covered bun on a small plate.

“Sure, Peeta, why don't you go get me one,” she deadpans.

“Sorry,” he says sheepishly. He rubs the back of his neck. “I guess I'm a little over eager.”

Even so, she takes the proffered plate. It looks too good to pass up, and she's too weak to refuse it now. “Thanks,” she says. The first bite is soft and flaky and buttery, the cheese adding the perfect savory touch. She finishes it immediately, before they even have the chance to sit down.

“And, uh” Peeta says, “...at the risk of making things more awkward, I'm going to need you to take off your pants.”

****

An hour and about three more cheese buns later, Katniss and Peeta are seated side by side on his couch, her wearing a too-big, but incredibly comfortable pair of Peeta's sweatpants. Her own pants are on a drying rack out on the balcony. Peeta had somehow managed to match the color with his fabric dye. When Katniss first saw the end result, they looked so perfect she could have kissed Peeta right then, but her good sense stopped her before she could do something so stupid.

She presses her finger to the last few crumbs on her plate. “How are these so good? Are you a pastry chef or something?”

“No. Not anymore, at least. My parents owned a bakery when I was a kid, and I used to help out. It went out of business a few years ago.”

She thinks about those nice clothes he works in. Dress slacks. Those rolled up sleeves. “So you have some sort of office job now?” she asks.

“No.” He laughs. “I teach first grade at Panem Elementary. How about you? What do you do?”

She knows he's just being polite. She asked him first. But the question makes her uncomfortable. She doesn't want to talk about her work. What is she supposed to tell him? That she works two unfulfilling jobs that she hates for a combined seventy hours a week and she's still drowning in debt? Tell him about playing FreeCell on the computer at her boring receptionist job? Or that time at Save Mart that this drunk guy threatened her with a knife because she wouldn't sell him two bottles of Jägermeister at four a.m?

Peeta flashes her a kind smile, oblivious to her inner turmoil. “Let me guess – based on how nice you look, I'd say you're some sort of high-powered executive.”

She snorts. “Hardly. I had an interview this morning. But I already know I didn't get it. They basically told me I'm not qualified. It was a long shot, anyway.” She tries to change the subject, anything to avoid some display of sympathy from Peeta. That’s the last thing she needs. “So are your parents retired now?” she blurts out.

“Mostly,” he says. “My dad sells pies out of a food truck in the summer and fall. And my mom does the book-keeping at our cousins’ shoe store a couple times a week. They both like to keep busy. Especially now that my brothers and I all moved out of state.”

“Oh, that’s too bad.”

“It’s really not,” he says with a laugh. “I still see them on holidays. There’s always Facebook and the occasional text. How about you? Is your family scattered too?”

She should have expected that he’d ask about her family. Once again, he’s just being polite. After all, she’s the one who clumsily brought it up. But it's the last thing she wants to talk about. Where does she even begin?

Her childhood had started off idyllic enough. Their lack of money was more than made up for by the abundance of love. Until her father was blown to bits in a mining accident, and her mother mentally checked out for a few months. Katniss had been eleven, and Prim only seven. Katniss became the de-facto head of the household. It was Katniss who did all the grocery shopping, walking to and from the store dragging Prim's old red wagon behind her. She prepared the meals. Washed the dishes. Did the laundry. Forged her mother's signature on permission slips. She did it all with a stoicism that easily fooled Prim. And even after her mother came back to them later that year, Katniss wore her self-reliance like armor

Katniss's mother, who'd been a med student before dropping out to raise her children, eventually got a job at a nearby hospital. It took awhile, but Katniss's relationship with her mother started to mend. The trust wasn't fully back, but Katniss worked hard to stop shrugging off her mother's attempts to – well, be a mother. It wasn't perfect, but it was good, the two of them working hard to ensure that Prim would get as normal a high school and college experience as possible.

And then in the early hours of New Year's Day two years ago, while on her way home from the night shift, a drunk driver entered the off-ramp on the freeway, slamming right into her mother's car. Neither driver survived.

Then came the news that her mother had let her life insurance lapse. Without the insurance money, paying for the funeral and living without her mother's income nearly broke them. Katniss maxed out her credit cards, got a second part-time job. Cut down her schooling to only half time until she dropped out altogether.

She doesn't want to drop this much personal information onto Peeta at once, so she just gives him the cliff notes version: her parents are dead and she's Prim's guardian. To his enormous credit, Peeta doesn't press her for details.

In the ensuing silence, Katniss fidgets and Peeta rubs the back of his head nervously until he springs out of his seat on the couch. “Would you like another cheese bun?”

She’s tempted. She can barely remember when she’s had food this good, and so much of it. She doesn’t have a shift at Save Mart tonight, and it’s not like she has to hurry home to Prim. When Katniss texted her saying she was next-door, Prim replied, Don’t hurry back, followed by a winking emoji. “I should probably get going,” she says nevertheless.

On the way to retrieve her pants, Katniss spots a table in another room filled with things like packages of number two pencils and eight-packs of crayons, stacks of composition notebooks, boxes of tissues piled high in a precarious tower, and economy-sized bottles of hand sanitizer. “Most people just steal pens from work,” she jokes. “This is impressive.”

Peeta laughs. “And next week, my plan is to disassemble everything from the playground and bring it here to decorate my apartment.”

“Just what this place is missing, too. Monkey bars in the living room.”

Peeta laughs and then sheepishly explains that this is for his classroom. A lot of his students can’t even afford lunch, let alone school supplies. So anything that the school can’t cover, he pays for out of his own pocket. Usually, though, the supplies he buys at the beginning of the year tend to run out before Christmas break. It’s mesmerizing watching Peeta talk so passionately about teaching, and the welfare of his students.

They find themselves sitting down again, freshly-dyed pants forgotten, and Katniss asks what happens the rest of the year. Do they just go without? Or does Peeta fill his table with stuff then too? In the middle of the school year, when everything he purchased has run out, and he’s out of extra money, he relies on crowdfunding. He brings the page up on his phone and shows Katniss the projects he has going. The first is for the basics: more pencils, crayons, notebooks, tissues, and sanitizer. The last two being especially important during cold season.

When it comes to the next project, Peeta explains how the roof at his school had leaked over the summer. Ruined the carpet in his classroom. The school patched up the roof, but didn’t have the funds to replace the carpet. Peeta shows her a couple pictures, and it’s honestly pretty gross. It looks like something died on it, and then someone rolled up the carcass in it, threw the whole thing in the river, and then it somehow found its way back onto the classroom floor. He shows Katniss a page with a couple large, brightly colored rugs to cover up the water damage. It’s expensive and kind of a longshot that it’ll get funded, but it would go a long way toward making his classroom more inviting.

Later, when Katniss is back home, she logs onto her ancient dust-collecting computer and finds Peeta’s fundraisers online. She donates five dollars. It's a drop in the bucket compared to what he needs to meet his goals, but it's about all she can spare. The rent is due soon, and she still needs to fill up the gas tank and get groceries.

****

It's become a ritual for Katniss and Prim to stop at the gas station once a week on the way home from picking Prim up from show choir practice and, after filling up, treating themselves to cherry Icees. Today, there's only enough cash in her purse for one, so Katniss lies and tells Prim she's too full from a late lunch.

As they wait in line, Katniss tries not to let her impatience show. She hates standing around, and despite what she told Prim, she's actually famished. Prim must sense this somehow, as she extends her drink in Katniss's direction. “You want some?” she asks. “I'm kind of full, too. We had a pizza party in 5th hour.” Katniss sips some of the icy beverage from the plastic straw, and it pacifies her a bit. But it's still hard not to get annoyed when they're in line behind Sae the Lottery Lady.

It looks like Sae's redeeming her winning tickets, the cashier doling out crisp twenty dollar bills only to get those same bills back when Sae decides at the last minute to purchase a stack of tickets so thick they're starting to resemble one of Prim’s textbooks. Katniss glances at the time on her cell phone.

“Can we get a lottery ticket too?” Prim stage whispers to Katniss.

Ugh. She tries not to roll her eyes, lest it seem like she's passing judgment. “No,” she replies simply.

“It'd be so great to win, though.”

At this, Sae turns around. “You can't win if you don't play,” she says with a wink. Sae should know. A couple years back she won a million dollars from a scratch-off ticket she purchased at this very gas station. It's where she buys all her lottery tickets now. It's silly, Katniss thinks. As if lightning is going to strike twice in the same place. If anything, Sae should be buying her tickets anywhere but this gas station, but the woman's nothing if not loyal.

Prim repeats her question, pressing her hands together in a pleading motion. It would actually be kind of adorable if what Prim wanted weren't so stupid.

“Fine,” Katniss grumbles anyway. She roots around her purse for some loose change. She needs the last dollar in her wallet for Prim's drink. “Maybe one of the one dollar tickets,” she says, though she already regrets it. A dollar could buy four bananas at the grocery store. Or a can of beans. Or a box of store brand spaghetti. All of which would be more useful than thirty seconds of hope.

Just when Katniss thought the transaction in front of her was done, Sae points out one of the twenty dollar tickets on the top row of the display, a ten-inch long rectangle of glittery gold card stock.

Katniss fishes a dime and two lint-covered nickels from the bottom of her purse. She just needs twelve more cents and she'll have a dollar. Twenty dollars, though, she thinks bitterly. On a lottery ticket. That's half a tank of gas. Or two family packs of chicken thighs when they go on sale at the market. Takeout pizza on her birthday. Twenty cans of beans. Her train of thought is interrupted by the cashier handing her something. “What?” Katniss blurts out stupidly. Her eyes cut over to Sae, whose ticket is being shoved in her direction.

“That's for you, dear,” Sae says. “I've been blessed, and I hope this does the trick for you too.”

****

Prim sits beside her in the passenger seat meticulously scratching the ticket's surface with a nickel from Katniss's purse, an intense expression on her face, her tongue poking out of the corner of her mouth ever-so-slightly.

Katniss almost hadn’t accepted the ticket from Sae. It was too much, and they barely knew each other. Not that that mattered much to Prim. She almost knocked the old lady to the ground giving her a big bear hug. Katniss reluctantly muttered her own thank-you and dragged an excited Prim back to the car after her turn at the counter. They had more important matters to deal with. Like dinner.

There’s almost no food in the apartment, but Katniss has officially crossed over from famished to hangry. They’ll just have to go grocery shopping another day. In the meantime, there’s always cereal at home, maybe eggs and toast or something.

“Katniss! Katniss! Pull over!”

Irritation prickles at her, but she tries to tamp it down. “I'm not taking anything to the animal hospital. And you need to stop yelling when I'm driving.” That's how accidents happen, she wants to say. But she doesn't need to burden Prim with her fears. Driving has been a struggle for Katniss since their mother died. Even short trips to the high school or the gas station are stressful.

“No, Katniss! Look!” She waves the ticket wildly. “We won!”

****

“You have to match one of the numbers on this top line to one of the numbers down here,” Prim explains to Katniss. They pulled into the first parking lot they came to, and now they’re huddled around the ticket like it's a flame on a frigid night. “If you get a match, you win whatever prize is listed below it. See? There's a two up here and a two down here, and it says – ”

“Five hundred thousand dollars,” Katniss finishes for her, dazed.

This kind of money will change their lives. Sure, she'll lose about half of it to taxes, but she'll still have enough to finally pay off her credit card debt and her student loans. Make a savings account. Quit her horrible third shift grocery store job. Prim won't have to worry about taking out loans when she goes off to college next Fall. As impossible as it used to seem, Katniss can even go back to school and get her degree, too. She'll actually have the luxury of figuring out what she wants to do with her life and then be able to make it happen. It's like a million doors that she thought were locked forever have just opened up to her. It’s a way she hasn’t felt since she was eleven years old.

That night she and Prim look at college course schedules online. They point out classes the other should take, read course descriptions aloud.

“You should major in something practical, like business,” Prim suggests, “but then minor in music.”

Katniss laughs it off, but secretly imagines herself singing again, maybe joining one of the school’s ensembles.

None of this would be possible if not for Sae's act of kindness. Katniss has never been a believer in karma or everything happening for a reason. Even still, she should do the same thing Sae did.

Peeta.

He needs to be the first person she helps. Few people deserve it more than he does.

She’s so excited that after Prim goes to bed, she gets on her computer to look at Peeta’s fundraising page again. There are exactly two donors so far, including hers. How excited would Peeta be if he woke up tomorrow and his projects were fully funded? She debates for a moment whether to put her name or make it anonymous. He did her a favor, so this would make them even. On the other hand, this is a much bigger favor, one that he couldn’t afford to reciprocate. Better make it anonymous then. Under the comments section she simply puts: “Pay it forward.”

tbc

#lastleaf #promptsinpanem #fivetenfifteen #specialchallenges

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pippytmi · 4 years ago

Note

Roommates au, enemies to lovers, “you confuse me.” Supercorp obvs

“You’re a fucking liar.”

This is—objectively speaking—not the worst greeting Kara has ever received from her roommate, and so she takes it in stride. “Uh, hello to you…too,” Kara says slowly, silently running through a list of everything she could have done wrong to warrant such strong words.

But Lena does not offer any explanation; in fact, when she spots Kara in the doorway, she sends her a nasty glare as if Kara has said something wrong. “Don’t pretend you’re a saint in this matter, Lex,” Lena hisses, and only then does Kara notice the cell phone in Lena’s hands. “If I have to go and clean up your mess again…”

So it’s one of those days. Kara wisely shuts the door quietly behind her, and sneaks into the kitchen as Lena takes her argument into her room.

There is a list of chores pinned to the fridge—four black X’s cross out Lena’s, and Kara’s are underlined twice. They have a code, so as to avoid speaking to each other; X’s mean done, underlined means Kara you're a slob and a pain in the ass to live with. (All verbatim, by the way.)

The dishes, however, are not on Kara’s agenda at the moment. She instead takes the expensive whiskey hidden under the sink (that belongs to Alex, not that she has noticed it’s missing), and pours it into a glass with some ice. Then she whips out the ingredients for a stir fry, complete with every vegetable she had been saving for the potluck at work this weekend.

It is an unspoken rule that Lena will shut herself off into her room after this phone call is over. She does that every time her brother calls (and on occasion her mother), and Kara has picked up enough information about her roommate to know Lena will appreciate a hard drink and some food. She hasn’t said so or anything, but every time Kara knocks three times on the door and leaves a plate outside, it will re-emerge an hour later completely empty.

Lena’s voice grows louder despite the distance, and Kara turns on the stereo out of respect for her roommate's privacy. Lena hates the stereo and all it stands for; she argues it is outdated, and they have numerous pieces of technology that are less bulky and fully able to connect to radio stations. But Kara keeps it around anyway, because she still likes buying CD’s (and maybe to bother Lena, which is a bonus).

Blink-182 is playing on that alternative station Alex likes. Kara cranks it up as she cooks, singing under her breath as she sautes bell peppers and onions, ignoring the rumble of her stomach and the tight belt of her work pants still digging into her hips. “Say it ain’t so, I will not go,” she practically yells, poking her head into the fridge for the tofu that Lena always keeps. Kara personally won’t touch the stuff, but Lena is trying to eat less meat. It cuts up easily enough, even though Kara isn’t sure what the proper technique is.

She leaves the finished plate and drink outside after it’s done, rapping on Lena’s door in tune with The White Stripes’ “Seven Nation Army,” and then finally has some dinner herself. Since the tofu is unappetizing, Kara stores the rest of the stir fry in a container for Lena to take for lunch, and opts for a sandwich. She eats while scrolling through her notifications (she owes Nia twenty bucks, and so far Nia has been clogging up her phone with Venmo requests all well over $500), and keeps the radio on just for background noise.

That’s probably why she doesn’t even notice when Lena approaches; Kara has barely begun to type a text to Nia swearing to bring some cash next time she visits when a sharp voice declares,

“You confuse me.”

Which. Is not at all what Kara expected from her usually empty kitchen. And, caught exceptionally off guard, she nearly falls off her chair. “What the—Lena,” she sputters, righting herself. Unfortunately, the crust of her sandwich is a casualty of the surprise, and she watches as it crumples devastatingly on the floor.

Lena is not half as concerned about the fate of her dinner, and she stalks forward to jab a finger at Kara’s chest. “You confuse me,” she repeats.

Kara blinks. Then blinks again. “Um, okay,” she says. “…why?”

A strange, strangled noise rises from Lena’s mouth, and she appears angrier than Kara has ever seen. (Well, except for that one time that Kara did laundry and flooded the apartment laundromat, which had other pissed off tenants leaving mean messages for two weeks straight). “Because,” angrier-than-usual Lena says, “you do shit like cook food for me and don’t even say anything.”

“What do you want me to say?” Kara frowns, not sure where this conversation is going. “If you want I can start saying ‘Hey Lena, I made dinner’ every time.”

“You and I don’t do dinner,” Lena says, and it sounds like an accusation. “Every time I get off the phone, you decide to leave food outside my door. Why? What on Earth compels you to do that?”

“Because you’re always upset afterwards,” Kara says slowly. “And I thought you could use some cheering up, or at least a drink.”

“Whiskey,” Lena notes. “It’s always whiskey. And it’s never a cheap brand.”

“Well, yeah,” Kara says, gesturing pointedly to Lena’s designer work clothes (that she never seems to be without; Kara’s not sure Lena even owns pajamas). “You would probably accuse me of poisoning you if I gave you anything less.”

Lena narrows her eyes. “You don’t owe me anything,” she says. “So whatever this is, you can stop it.”

“What do you mean, ‘whatever this is’?” Kara repeats incredulously. “I’m just being nice!”

“I never asked you to be ‘nice’!”

Kara exhales, and reminds herself that it is illegal to strangle people. Especially since she is Lena’s roommate, and will therefore be suspect #1. Kara has never been a violent person, but her roommate just manages to test her limits.

“Look,” Kara says patiently, “I give you my sister’s whiskey, and she doesn’t care because she is trying to give up drinking. And I’m not a frequent cook or anything, but I can still throw together a plate because I know you don’t cook at all. That’s it! I don’t have a hidden agenda, or some secret plot here. I’m just being friendly.”

“We are not friends, Kara Danvers,” Lena says. “And I know exactly what this is, even if you refuse to acknowledge it.”

God, what an insufferable—“Okay, know-it-all,” Kara says, instead of the ruder words echoing through her head. “What am I doing?”

Lena’s jaw clenches noticeably. “You pity me,” she accuses. “You look down at my relationship with my family, and—and I don’t want your sympathy, or your stupid food, anymore.”

“If you wanted me to back off, that’s fine,” Kara says, holding her hands up in mock surrender. “But I don’t pity you, or feel sorry for you. Heck, with your track record, I’d feel more sympathy for your family. They seem to be on the other end of some nasty phone calls.”

Lena’s expression darkens. “You don’t know my family.”

“I don’t know you very well, either,” Kara retorts, and she turns back to her phone where three new Venmo requests are waiting (two of them well in the thousands range; Nia must think she’s hilarious). “Message received, okay? I’ll leave you alone.”

At first, Kara assumes that's the end of it—assumes that Lena is going to stalk off, and leave a strongly worded post-it on the fridge later that night for Kara to wake up to. That has always been how their relationship works; they fight, reiterate how much they hate living together, and go right back to ignoring each other.

But Lena doesn't walk away. Instead she sighs, and at that unexpected sound Kara looks up just in time to catch Lena frowning. “I—” Lena begins, and then she pauses uncomfortably before getting the words out. “I'm...sorry. I have been having the worst day, and it’s—it’s rude of me to take it out on you.”

“Okay,” says Kara dumbly, because she’s not sure what to respond. Lena never apologizes. Ever. It’s about as rare as, well, Kara actually doing her chores on time. “Thanks?”

Lena bites her lip, glances away. “You’re welcome,” she says stiffly. And this time she leaves—leaves, and abandons the plate of food Kara left her on the edge of the table.

Kara looks down at her phone. There are ten texts waiting from Nia, and about double that of Venmo requests. But she can’t shake the feeling that she is forgetting something, and it’s more than a twenty dollar bill. “Wait,” she blurts out, “Lena. What—what does that mean? You were an asshole to me, and I was an asshole right back, so why are you apologizing?”

“Well, you are more than welcome to apologize too,” Lena says, pausing in the kitchen doorway. She has a quizzical expression on her face, a kind of raw confusion that Kara has never seen before. Without the sharp clenched jaw and the angry eyes, she’s…just a girl. A girl, with a nervous tic of wringing her fingers together. A girl, despite her guarded nature, who is gazing right back at Kara as if she has no right to.

“Do you want me to apologize to you?”

A beat. “Not really,” Lena says. “I don’t—want that. You’re right, you don’t know me. Or my family. We’re nothing to each other, and I can’t expect you to know how complicated my relationship with them is.”

“Still,” Kara says, and she scratches the back of her neck absentmindedly at the sudden flush of guilt that overtakes her. “I am sorry. It was rude of me to, um, say that. Like if your family is a bunch of serial killers, who am I to say you’re worse than that?”

Lena scrunches her nose in a manner that is sort of cute. “Serial killers? Really?”

Kara shrugs—aiming for casual—and really that just looks like attempting nonchalance when suddenly she’s consumed with thoughts about how pretty her roommate is. “Like you said,” she says, “I don’t know your family.”

And, surprisingly, all Lena does is smile. A real smile, the kind that Kara has never witnessed, barely soft and just kind enough. “They’re not,” she says, and unnecessarily clarifies, “serial killers.”

“That you know of,” Kara points out, and Lena’s cautious smile becomes something fuller. That is the only thing that gives Kara the courage to add, “So, now that we have covered the whole you’re not your family thing, are you really not going to have dinner? I cooked tofu for you and everything!”

“You didn’t have to,” Lena argues, because she is defensive to a fault. But she falters immediately after, and sighs again, albeit in a more mellowed tone. “What I meant to say is, I really don’t need you to keep cooking for me. I’m fine.”

“Well what if I want to cook for you?” Kara says, and that is her own fault: she is ready to argue to protect her (noble) intentions. “We don’t have to be friends, if it terrifies you that much—”

“It does not terrify me—”

“—but we can be friendly,” Kara offers, and it’s a testament to her newfound appreciation for her roommate that she manages to even make a sentence. “If you want.”

Lena tilts her head, considering, and this time when she smiles it is curious. “If you knew what I wanted, Kara Danvers,” she says, “your delicate sensibilities would blush to their roots.” And with that odd goodbye, she eventually takes her leave; however, she does take the plate of stir fry with her, so Kara guesses that means they’re on their way to being friendly, if anything.

#remember when quarantine started & i asked for prompts?#yeah u read that right a whole ass year ago?#well. uh. so this is embarrassing but-#supercorp #supergirl #i need a fic tag #proudlyunicorn

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yuchiyo · 2 years ago

Text

@ no one else can make my heart swoon like you do ! — random relationship headcanons

chars. xiao, hu tao x gn! reader (separated)

warnings. no beta we die like my old classroom’s air conditioner when it’s in the middle of fucking summer, lowercase intended, kinda angsty in xiao’s part if you squint hard enough

a/n: the title is a lyric from every time around by vansire. also new format yaya

#! xiao

now, how did you even managed to date him in the first place, i do not know. no one knows. not even him.

if i’m being honest it’s near impossible for him to ever date anyone.

due to him being afraid that his karmic debt will transfer to other people, so he stays away from them as much as possible.

so unless you’re someone who’s associated with the adepti or work at wangshu inn, you’re quite unlikely to ever meet him.

in the start of the relationship, he will be quite distant, he acts like nothing more than a friend to you, if you know what i mean. (i mean this is expected coming from a xiao)

others around you probably wouldn’t ever know that you both were dating especially if you’re not the touchy type. unless you tell them yourself about it, that is.

if you were to initiate any type of affection with him, especially by surprise, he will jump. like a cat.

he won’t reciprocate the affection, but he won’t let go or try to stop you either. he’ll just be.. very tense.

he appreciates and enjoys them. he simply isn’t used to getting and giving affections.

further into the relationship, he will be the one to initiate affections first more.

well, i mean, not really. but he will be the one (shyly) asking you for a kiss/hug etc.

he’ll still be relying on you to be the one who will initiate a kiss or hug him first.

the moments where he is the one to actually initiate them first are very very rare.

and that rare moments are always when you’re asleep (booooo)

due to xiao having a touch-starved nature, you would often find him seeking for your affections and comfort. or at least, presence.

he won’t be able to be your side much, thanks to his yaksha duties. so when he is by your side, he would bask in your presence as much as he can, even though he won’t be direct about it.

xiao is clingy, much more than what he allows others (including you) to see.

#! hu tao

would probably give you the “buy one coffin get one coffin free” coupon for your first date anniversary.

since there are no people who has taken up on that offer hu tao probably still has a lot of the coupons stored so she decided to just give one to you.

well at least you got a gift, right?

naturally, as her s/o, you would often get dragged onto.. her business.

no you’re not gonna get asked to talk with the death or something.

it’s mostly just people begging you to stop hu tao on keeping on bothering others with her coffins sale offers.

not like you’re gonna be able to anyway.

during her free time, hu tao likes to make poetries about you.

they somehow always end up with stuffs related to death, coffins, ghosts, and funerals.

not in a bad way, no. it’s like, she, for some reason, somehow, compared and related sweet and adorable things you both did with coffins and ghosts.

i can’t give you an example i’m bad at poetry.

if you’re scared of ghosts, hu tao will definitely pull pranks on you like how she likes to prank xiangling. especially if you’re easy to scare off.

this often results to you and xiangling planning revenge pranks on her together.

hu tao’s favorite pick-up lines are, as you guessed, the ones related to.. well, her job.

disagree with me if you want, but i can definitely see her doing excessive poses when saying pick-up lines.

you know the “konnichiwa beauty-chan, kimi and watashi. tonight. *wink*” meme? yeah. yeah that’s her, but make her say a death and coffins related pick-up line

the way hu tao expresses things may be a little odd, but she’s a sweet and caring girlfriend.

*all the arts used here are official arts from hoyoverse, unless stated otherwise.

#🪁.archives #genshin x reader #xiao x reader #hu tao x reader #genshin #genshin impact #i’m gonna sleep now

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venomous--fics · 3 years ago

Text

@geekgirlofarchangels Requested: Hi! (I just wanted to say that I love your writing, it's amazing)😍

Can I request Eddie Brock x reader, who bake sweets for him, basically try to show her love for him in many ways in a day to day basis, and when she decides to tell him that she loves him, she sees him with Anne and misunderstand everything.

She panics, but ends fluff? Sorry for any mistakes English is not my first language

A/N: No worries!! Thank you for the request and I hope you enjoy!! Day 6! So many more to go!

"I think I need better piping tips." You said, looking over to Eddie for some reassurance.

The man had a one track mind, and right now, the only thing he could think of was the cookies you had in the oven. He's been staring at it for the last five minutes.

"A watched pot never boils." You said, finally catching his attention.

"And watched cookies never bake." he retorted turning around to look at the cake you'd be decorating, "I think it looks nice."

"Really?"

"Of course!"

"You're not just being cute and nice, right?"

"What would I gain from lying? Name one thing."

"More sweets?"

"That is true, but I don't have to lie to get those."

You rolled your eyes with a smile as you moved the cake to the other counter so that way you had room for the cookies. Before you, Eddie wasn't really the type of guy to have a sweet tooth, but oh boy you sure did change that. You worked at a bakery, and you were still practicing your skills any chance you got.

Eddie was a good and somewhat unbiased judge. He never lied to you, but he was never mean about anything either. If something needed worked on, he'd tell you nicely.

"Why are you stressing so much about your decorating skills anyways? I think you're amazing at it."

"My boss really wants me to start helping out in the decorating area..I was just worried that I was totally going to suck." You set your piping bag off to the side and wiped off your hands, "I just want to make sure I can do everything perfectly."

"You got this. It'll be a breeze for you. I mean, c'mon, look at it. It's really good."

You took a moment to really admire your cake. Yeah, it was pretty good.

Eddie really was so nice and loving to you. He was nothing like any of the other people you'd chosen to spend your time with before. Eddie actually wanted to do things with you, and he was constantly dragging you along for new adventures, and actually paid attention to your wants and needs.

You really liked him. Well, if you were being honest, you were really hopelessly in love with him. And you wanted to tell him, and you were sure he felt the same, but you really wanted to make it special.

Should you write it in icing on a cookie? Or maybe he was a bit tired of cookies. Maybe he'd expect you to do that since you're a baker and all. Maybe you should just tell him. Face to face.

You both left for work, saying your goodbyes and sharing a kiss or two. You were going to tell him after work. It'd finally be a weight off your chest to finally say just how you felt.

Despite having a seemingly normal day, you began to feel a little puzzled towards lunch. Normally, somehow, someway, Eddie always found his way to your work. It was bizarre how your lunch breaks always lined up, but you were sure he did that on purpose.

He didn't show up today, so you spent your break alone. You'd texted him to have a good rest of the day at work, but he never texted back. Maybe he just got busy, you told yourself.

You managed to clock out and make your way home, and still no response from Eddie. He wasn't even home yet. It was 6:45. Normally, he's home way before you. You shrugged it off as a late day at the office as you changed out of your work clothes.

Eddie got home at about 7:15 pm, and didn't say much as to why that was. He was his normal cheery self. He doted on you as usual, and you two ate together. Every thing was fine, but it didn't feel fine.

Things continued on like that for a few days. You had this persistent nagging feeling that Eddie was hiding something, and it was getting in the way of talking to him. It was getting far too annoying to ignore.

Today, one of your rare days off, you decided to hell with it. You were going to make Eddie a nice dinner and just tell him. Maybe then the nagging feeling would go away. Maybe you were just nervous because this was a huge thing to say, especially to Eddie.

You were making your way downtown, to the store, to pick up a few ingredients for dinner. Your list was short, so this really shouldn't take too long. You walked passed a café that you and Eddie frequented, and your body froze just a few steps passed the big front window. The hell was that?

You must've been seeing things. Surely you hadn't seen what you thought you saw, right? Not wanting to be seen, just in case your eyes weren't tricking you, you turned your body a little. You couldn't believe it. There was was. Even if all you saw was the back of his head, you knew it was him solely because of who was sitting across from him at the little table.

"Anne?" you asked yourself quietly.

She looked like she was in good spirits today. Her smile was warm and inviting as always, and it looked like she was chuckling at something Eddie had just said. You couldn't look away.

Why would he do this to you? Are you really surprised? After all, he did love her first. Maybe he never really loved you to begin with.

You made your way back to the apartment to gather your thoughts. There was to be a rational explanation for this. They weren't doing anything bad, but, you did find yourself worrying because...Well, you know, it was Anne.

For the first time in years, you felt angry. How could he do that to you? You should just leave and just call him later and tell him that you're never coming back. You froze halfway to the door once you realized what had really happened. Eddie chose her. And you knew that time after time he'd do it again.

You felt stupid. You felt a few tears slip out and you tried to fight them off, but that only seemed to make it worse. The door opened, and the sound of keys hitting the counter caught your attention.

"Oh!" Eddie said, "You're home! Good, I have- Hey, are you okay?"

You just stared at him.

He walked over, attempting to comfort you, but you took a few steps back, causing him to freeze. He looked wounded.

"Did something happen?" he asked, lowering his hands.

"I don't know," You said bitterly, "Why don't you go ask Anne?"

"Anne?" Then it registered, "Oh! Oh, no, babe, that's-"

"I don't want to hear any excuses, Eddie! How could you do that to me? How could you string me along and then just backstab me like that."

"No!" He really wanted to hold you, but he knew he had to refrain, "No, no, no! It wasn't like that. I swear!"

"I can't even look at you." You rushed into the bedroom, slamming the door. "God! I'm so, so stupid!"

Eddie listened to your slightly muffled yelling for a minute or two before moving over to the door to open it.

"I shouldn't even be here anymore!" You shouted, throwing open the door, "I have to go."

You tried to move past Eddie, but as a reflex, he grabbed your arm, "Please don't do that."

You tugged and pulled, but you couldn't wiggle free. He wasn't holding too tight, and he wasn't hurting you. You just couldn't get free, "Let go of me!"

"I swear I'd never do that to you!" He pleaded, "Will you just let me explain?"

You stopped fighting and just stared helplessly ahead, "What is there to explain, huh? You don't love me like I love you, so there's nothing left to talk about."

"You love me?"

"Of course I do! But it's obvious that you don't love me! So, just, let go!"

"I love you too!" He said loudly.

It's like the whole world stopped in that moment as your head whipped around to look at him. He looked like his whole world was about to end. This wasn't how any of this was supposed to go down.

"I love you." he repeated, "I- I'm so sorry I didn't say it sooner. I..I got nervous so I, as stupid as it sounds, I went to Anne for advice."

Your whole body relaxed as you listened to him.

"I wasn't sure how to say it- Or, I guess, say it right." Eddie sighed a little, "I asked her what I should do. She was always better at this stuff. She gave me this bright idea of a movie and dinner...But it seems like that's all out the window now."

You realized your mistake, "Eddie, I'm sorry...I didn't want it to happen like this either. I had a plan too, and I guess I ruined it."

"I should've just told you. I was just scared you wouldn't feel the same."

"Wouldn't feel the same?" You wanted to sound offended at the thought, "Eddie, why do you think I do all these nice things for you? I wanted to tell you for ages, but I just couldn't."

Eddie let go of your arm, and pulled you into a hug. He hugged you like his life depended on it. You hugged back before sighing, "This really isn't how I wanted this to go."

"I know." he said, "Doesn't make it any less true, does it?"

You shook your head.

"I mean it. I really do love you. I just wanted to make sure I did everything right this time." He sounded disappointed with himself, "I guess I'm always going to screw some things up."

"That's okay." You reassured, "I don't know if you noticed, but I ruined this whole thing. Your plan, my plan. All of it."

"I wouldn't say ruined." Eddie pulled back to look at you, "I'd just say this was a little out of the ordinary."

"Do you still want to go out for dinner? Is that still in the cards?" You asked curiously.

"Of course. Why don't we just take a breather for a little bit."

#eddie brock x reader #eddie brock imagine #marvel imagine #marvel x reader #venom imagine #venom x reader

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bitsandbobsofwriting · 3 years ago

Text

5 times Merlin noticed Arthur’s odd reactions to things,

+1 time he could start on the road to helping.

TW: Graphic descriptions of child abuse, claustrophobia, panic attacks/flashbacks/disassociating.

Merlin notices things. He always has done, ever since he was a child. Maybe it was the magic, maybe it was the ingrained fear of being snuck up on (as a Bastard child, as a citizen of Essetir, and as someone with magic) or maybe it was just some odd, innate skill. It doesn’t really matter: Merlin is observant, he has keen eyes, which is why he notices Arthur’s sudden change in disposition.

It was a normal afternoon, Arthur and Merlin had just gotten back from the first hunt of the spring and were filling The King in on how it had gone. Well... Arthur was, Merlin was just sort of stood there.

The servant was annoyed that Arthur had dragged him along, both to the hunt and to the meeting, but The Prince had been so excited (not that he showed it too much) at the prospect of telling his father how well everything went, he conceded easily. It was rare that Arthur got his father’s approval; Merlin had only been serving him for a few months, so maybe it was stupid of him to want to see Arthur happy, but oh well. He may be a prat, but he meant well and he loved his people, he deserved a little happiness occasionally.

Uther was in fact proud, and Merlin had better luck than Arthur at holding his grin in, though that changed quickly.

Arthur was looking out of the window and making casual comments on when he planned on going out next, and Uther, stepping quietly without even realising it, manages to move to the space just behind him without Arthur noticing. He claps a firm, but proud hand on Arthur’s shoulder, and if Merlin hadn’t known that Arthur would deny it later, he would accuse him of jumping a foot in the air. He turns around quickly, eyes wide and barely focusing as Uther gives his son another congratulations, as well as a terse “Make sure you keep it up.”

The sudden tightness in Arthur’s shoulders and his clear discomfort at having Uther so close do not go unnoticed by Merlin and he frowns, making a split second decision that could very well get him put in the stocks:

“Sorry to interrupt, My Lords, but The Prince mentioned wanting to join the evening patrol. Sir Leon and his partner will be leaving shortly.”

Uther whips his head around disapprovingly, and his anger at Merlin for interrupting whatever it was he was about to say translates to a tightened grip on Arthur’s shoulder. The Prince flinches slightly, but carefully steps away from The King, speaking before he can order the servant punished:

“Right you are, Merlin. If you’re happy for me to take my leave, father?”

Uther looks back to his son, confused, but approving of Arthur’s sudden eagerness to join extra patrols:

“Very well. I expect you to keep up the hard work, Arthur, I shall be disappointed if you start slacking again.”

Arthur nods and bows, but doesn’t say anything, his jittery demeanour getting worse with The King’s vaguely threatening tone. He walks stiffly from the room, and Merlin follows with a confused frown, making sure to keep his distance and step loudly on the stone floor; apparently Arthur was feeling jumpy today.

Arthur, still in his armour, leads them down to the courtyard where Sir Leon and another knight were indeed preparing to leave. The Prince doesn’t say anything to Merlin, simply nods in his direction before joining the others, and Merlin thinks he must have done the right thing if Arthur wasn’t shouting at him for giving him extra work that he hadn’t intended to do.

He stores this new, odd information in his mind for future reference, reminding himself to stay away from The Prince’s back and warn him of anyone approaching.

The next thing Merlin notices doesn’t come from a specific incident, more from a series of odd happenings over time.

When Arthur had been released from the dungeons after Merlin’s miraculous survival from being poisoned, he was a mess. At the time, Merlin had smugly suggested that it was because Arthur was worried about him; his hair was similar to a bird’s nest, as if The Prince had been running his hands through it and pulling it on a near constant basis, and the shirt he was wearing frankly stunk of sweat.

Arthur had rolled his eyes at that and slunk off to sulk in his chambers—once Gaius had assured him Merlin would be fine—and the young servant had taken that as confirmation.

The first time Merlin actually witnesses Arthur’s quick, shallow breath and wide panicked eyes, they’re rushing through the narrow servant corridors. The Prince’s grip on his sword looks uncomfortably tight and the sweat on his brow seems a little odd: they weren’t running that fast. Merlin figures that Arthur is just stressed out from trying to catch the sneaky arsehole assassin who was trying to do in as many councilmen as he could before getting away.

Which is an understandable thing to be stressed about.

Merlin only takes actual note of it when, after the assassin had gotten away, The King had demanded Arthur retrace his footsteps back through the castle to see if the criminal had dropped anything or hidden anywhere. Arthur practically freezes up at that, his wide eyes and pale skin making Merlin frown in confusion, only for his frown to deepen when Arthur stutters through his suggestion of having another knight lead the internal search whilst Arthur heads out into the city.

The relief on Arthur’s face when Uther agrees is, though brief and immediately hidden, immense.

Merlin thinks back on the state Arthur had been in after he’d quested for Merlin’s cure. Perhaps... perhaps Arthur had been such a mess because he had spent a night in the dungeons, and not because he had been worried about Merlin.

As much as Arthur might like to think Merlin’s an idiot, the servant makes quick connections, pieces things together easily, like a children’s puzzle. At least when it comes to Arthur.

The servant is also reminded of the way Arthur insists that Merlin leave a few candles lit in the evening. At first, Merlin thought it was because Arthur was sneaking out of bed to get more paperwork done (Uther may rarely see it, but Arthur works ridiculously hard), but he checked the paperwork one morning and nothing had been added or altered. Then he though that it was maybe so Arthur could see any attackers coming in the night, because he was paranoid like that, but the candles always burnt out after a couple hours anyway, so it wasn’t like they were lasting through the night.

Merlin figures he was probably just reading into things too much (plus, he knows that accusing Arthur of being afraid of the dark or tight spaces would get him nothing but a slap up the head and, depending on The Prince’s mood, a visit to the stocks), though Arthur refusing to stay in Merlin’s tiny bedroom for any longer than necessary, and insisting on multiple torches being lit whenever they ventured into caves, forces Merlin to reconsider.

It was after one such adventure in one such cave that Merlin took advantage of the castle’s funds being available to him, and heads down to the market to buy some larger candles (and if he cast a spell to make them last longer... well... no one needed to know). Arthur gives him an odd look when he walks into The Prince’s chambers that evening and begins setting up and lighting them without acknowledgement; Merlin answers his questioning hum without looking at him:

“I know you like to be able to see just in case attackers make it into your chambers: these ones should last all the way until the morning. I set up a standing order with a merchant in the lower town.”

Arthur frowns confusedly, knowing that no one had managed to sneak into his chambers in months; it was definitely odd that Merlin had suddenly decided that this was a good idea. Still, Merlin doesn’t look back at him as he casually moves around the room, lighting the new candles and hoping that Arthur wouldn’t notice him leaving the curtains open by about an inch. He notices, though he doesn’t mention it in his response:

“Hmm. It seems you’re finally putting that brain of yours to use, Merlin.”

Merlin finally turns to look at him, glaring half-heartedly as he sarcastically laughs. Arthur just grins at him, glancing at the strip of moonlight on the floor for only a moment before climbing into his bed, muttering for Merlin to go ahead and get an early night.

From then on, Merlin packs extra torches in his pack when they go adventuring, and if he has room, a candle, in case they end up in an inn. If Arthur notices any of that, or the fact that Merlin always opens the window whenever they’re in the tiny Physician’s chambers for more than five minutes and always keeps him company on the now-rare nights Uther is angry enough to lock Arthur in the dungeons... well... neither of them point it out.

The next odd reaction doesn’t happen until years later.

Of course Merlin keeps noticing Arthur’s aversion to surprise touch (especially from knights and his father) and general dislike of the dark/closed spaces, but dealing with it and adjusting to make things easier just sort of becomes part of their routine, without either of them really realising.

Arthur has been King for a few weeks when it happens. It's warm, too warm for armour, so the roundtable knights are practicing their hand to hand instead of using swords and shields. Arthur usually sits out for these lessons, teaching and observing from the side-lines as opposed to taking part in spars. Merlin had always thought it was odd, but the one and only time he had brought it up, years ago, Arthur had forced him to join in on the lessons. He had a lot of bruises that day.

But today was not a usual day apparently; Arthur joined in. He seemed reluctant at first, like he was unsure if he actually wanted to, but his first weeks as King had been going well and he’d had a successful meeting with some of his Lords the previous day, so he’s in a good mood. He finally caves when Lancelot offers to spar with him; there was something about the gentle man that just makes everyone in his vicinity feel a little more at ease.

The sun was shining, but heavy rain the previous week means the grass was bright and soft; all in all, it was a lovely day, but Merlin’s focus was still on Arthur and the way he and Lance dance around each other. All the knights were holding their strength back a little, the purpose of sparring is rarely to go all out, but practicing form and technique and footwork is always a good idea.

Arthur falls into the rhythm of the spar, dodging and side-stepping and blocking with ease, neither he nor Lance were eager to speed things up in the heat. He was moving automatically, running on instincts and just a little bit of adrenaline, which is probably why he freezes up when confronted with something so terrifyingly familiar.

A glint of sunlight off something metallic caches his eye, and his gaze moves away from the fight for barely a split-second, but when he looks back all he can see is shortly cropped brown hair, a bright red tunic, and a fist swinging for his face.

Lancelot yelps when Arthur doesn’t block like he had expected him to, and Merlin is sprinting over before The King’s head has even finished rocking to the side. The other knights go to crowd closer, worried for their leader, but Merlin waves them off harshly and they keep their distance, trusting him. Lancelot looks horrified, but dutifully steps back as Merlin puts one hand on Arthur’s shoulder and uses the other to tilt his chin from side to side.

Merlin’s frown deepens when Arthur just lets himself be manhandled. Even in his worst injuries he was reluctant to let people check him over; Merlin quickly notices his wide eyes staring vacantly and the breathing that was far deeper than it really should be. He tries to get The King to look at him as he speaks lowly, so the others can’t hear him:

“Arthur? You with me?”

Arthur gulps, blinking rapidly and meeting his gaze, though Merlin can tell that he still isn’t really seeing:

“I... I’m sorry, I... I didn’t mean... I wasn’t...”

Merlin can only just hear Arthur’s whispers, and he’s grateful for the fact that the others definitely can’t hear them. He moves the hand on Arthur’s shoulder down to grip the other man’s hand and squeezes, and uses the other to shield his eyes from the sun as he mutters:

“Arthur, it’s Merlin, you’re out on the training field with members of the Roundtable, it’s late Spring, and you were crowned King three weeks ago. Arthur?”

It’s only then that Arthur’s eyes come into focus.

Merlin has never been grateful to have the bones in his hands almost break, and he doubts he’ll ever be grateful for it again. Merlin’s squeezes back, digging his nails in just a little as a subtle “please don’t break my hand”. Arthur loosens his grip and Merlin raises his eyebrow slightly in question; the blonde groans slightly and lifts a shaking hand to rub his eyes:

“What happened?”

Merlin glances at the huddle of knights behind him and gives them a reassuring smile before he looks back to Arthur, speaking so everyone can hear:

“You took quite the well placed hit from Lance, got a mild concussion and lost yourself for a minute. You’ll probably be fine by this evening, but I want to get you in the shade just in case, ok?”

Arthur seems surprised at the explanation, but nods wordlessly, letting Merlin guide him up towards the castle without a fuss. That just worries Merlin more, and he speeds up slightly as he yells over his shoulder:

“Leon’s in charge!”

Leon just chuckles, knowing that Merlin wouldn’t be paying them the slightest bit of attention if Arthur was even close to being seriously injured, but Gwaine just tilts his head and frowns:

“I love the guy but since when does Merlin decide who’s in charge? If he had said Elyan was in charge would we have just... gone with it?”

Leon shoves him playfully and tells him to get back to work, giving Lancelot a comforting pat on the shoulder as they all look away from the servant-King duo.

Merlin doesn’t take Arthur to the physician’s chambers, but goes to The King’s bedchamber instead; Arthur wasn’t actually concussed, but his mind had been elsewhere for a moment, so much so that he hadn’t recognised Merlin and spoke to him as if he were someone else. He sits The King down on the edge of the bed and kneels in front of him, hands on his knees as he frowns:

“Arthur? Still with me, or gone again?”

Arthur takes in a sharp breath, making eye contact with Merlin again as he straightens his back and answers confidently, his voice wavering only slightly:

“Yeah, yes, I’m with you. Sorry, lost in thought. I don’t feel concussed, are you sure?”

Merlin nods and stands up, leaving Arthur on the bed as he moves to open the window and get him a goblet of water:

“Hmm, I lied, I don’t think you are either, you weren’t hit that hard to be honest, but you weren’t really... with it, thought it best to get you away from the others.-”

He turns around the see Arthur tense and angry-looking, though Merlin gets the distinct impression that it’s not aimed at him:

“-You probably just got dazed by the hit, that and you’re overtired, you’ve been staying up late the last few nights. Drink this, maybe have a nap, or at least stay out of the sunlight for a few hours, you’ll definitely be getting a headache at some point soon and I don’t want you to make it worse.”

He hands over the goblet of water, holding it slightly out of Arthur’s reach so the other man has to stand for it. He manages to stand on his own two feet with no issue, and the shaking in his hands is lesser than it was before, though not gone entirely, so Merlin makes a mental list of all the chores that he could finish here, in Arthur’s presence. The King drinks the water absent-mindedly, leaving the goblet on the side table as he mutters:

“Overtired... yeah, probably.”

He wanders towards his desk, collapsing in the seat and staring half-heartedly at the paperwork spread all over the place. Merlin relaxes slightly, deciding that maybe there was a reason Arthur never joined in on hand-to-hand.

Merlin wasn’t fond of Arthur’s current visitor, Lord Algere, but he was pleased to note that Arthur didn’t seem all that fond of him either. He was an old supporter of Uther’s, which meant the occasional snide remark about how Uther would’ve handled certain situations differently, followed by deferential admissions of being “a close friend and advisor to the former King.”.

He was just friendly and kiss-ass enough that he couldn’t be kicked from court, that Arthur still had to be polite to him, but he rubbed pretty much everyone up the wrong way and Merlin couldn’t wait until he left to go back to his estate, thankfully situated on the furthest edge of the Kingdom.

It's the day before he’s due to leave when he says it:

“You remind me of your father a great deal, you know, you’re very similar.”

Arthur freezes up at the so-called compliment, but recovers quickly, giving the Lord a tight smile before excusing himself so he wouldn’t be late for the city border patrol he was undertaking. Normally Merlin didn’t go with him on these patrols, he’d only be gone for a couple hours at most and he was joined by a partner; it gave Merlin time to finish up some chores, but the servant felt the need to be there today.

The King is silent the entire time, which is unusual considering he's riding alongside Sir Leon today, and those two always have something official to talk about. He doesn’t even spare Merlin an annoyed glance when the servant drops his bag and has to dismount to pick it up, only halts and waits for him to catch up again. Though he's sure The King had relaxed slightly at the beginning of the patrol, when Merlin mentioned that he fancied tagging along, and if Merlin weren’t so worried he’d be immensely proud at his apparent ability to put Arthur at ease.

Leon gives Merlin a worried grimace as they ride back into the citadel, but Merlin shakes his head and smiles, his meaning of “I’ll deal with it, I’m sure he’s fine” obvious in the action. The two of them have gotten quite good at silently communicating over the years, God forbid Arthur find out that they were trying to look after him.

They made the journey up to Arthur’s chambers in continued silence, though Merlin really starts to really worry when Arthur just wanders over to the window and stares down into the courtyard. He only does that when he’s feeling particularly pensive. Merlin lays out the work he knows Arthur had wanted to get done this afternoon and perches on the edge of the desk, facing Arthur’s back with his arms crossed:

“Arthur, you alright? You’ve been quiet.”

Arthur nods, but doesn’t turn away from the window, staying silent. Merlin purses his lips, but it doesn’t take him long to figure out what he thinks might be wrong. He moves across the room and sits himself down at the dining table, casually starting on the polishing he had left there earlier as he speaks, trying to keep his tone as neutral and absent-minded as possible:

“I’ve no clue what Algere was talking about earlier, he either knows nothing about you, or didn’t know your father nearly as much as he says he did.”

Arthur finally turns from the window, fixing a curious frown on Merlin, who forces himself to keep his gaze down:

“What makes you say that?”

Merlin still doesn’t look up, but knows that he’s on the right track. Arthur has been able to admit, especially recently with his changing opinions on magic, that his father was not a good man, though he still struggles to admit that he wasn’t a good father:

“Well, from what I’ve seen, you look way more like your mother than you do Uther, and you don’t act like him at all, you haven’t picked up on any of his mannerisms or anything.-”

The servant finally looks up at Arthur, his words true but his nonchalance false as he continues with a confused frown:

“-To be honest, I’ve always thought you act more like an odd mix of Leon and Morgana. You’ve definitely got Leon’s sense of chivalry and respect and his knightly traits, but your... how do I say... fiery attitude when it comes to your sense of right and wrong, that’s definitely Morgana. Uther was quick to anger, you’ve got fairly good control of your anger nowadays. Uther was set in his ways and refused to change no matter the consequences, you bend traditions all the time, improve things in ways that Uther would never have dreamed of doing.-”

The servant shrugs and looks back down to his polishing:

“-I just don’t see the similarities, and I certainly know you better than Algere. I’ve a feeling I knew Uther better than Algere as well.”

Arthur hums non-committedly, but sits down at his desk instead of turning back to the window. Merlin feels the tension leave his shoulders, but doesn’t relax fully when he notices Arthur staring at his folded hands instead of working. Apparently it had only partially worked:

“Arthur?”

He doesn’t look up, just shuffles slightly in his eat as he lowly answers:

“Do you think I might... turn out like him? In the end? People say he was kind and gentle when he was young. If... if I ever have children...”

The question goes unasked, but the fear in his voice is palpable, and Merlin has to stop himself from sprinting from the room to burn every painting of Uther he can find. Instead, he puts the armour down on the table softly and stands, making sure to step loudly and clear his throat as he leans against the edge of Arthur’s desk again:

“Arthur, you’re a wonderful King, a wonderful knight, a wonderful man, and I guarantee that one day you’ll be a wonderful father. Don’t stress, you’ve out done your father in every other aspect of your life, I’m sure you’ll continue to do so.”

Arthur looks up at Merlin with a slight frown on his face, though it’s more thoughtful than anything. Merlin holds his gaze with a soft smile for a few moments, content to wait for Arthur to give him some sort of cue; Arthur just rolls his eyes and shoves him from the table, picking up a quill and finally beginning to actually work:

“Try not to insult the former King too much in one sitting, Merlin. And that armour won’t polish itself.”

Merlin just laughs quietly and moves back to the table, understanding and accepting that that was probably the best he was going to get. He makes a mental note to mention Arthur’s similarities to Leon next time the three of them are together; Arthur will be relieved, though he won’t show it, and Leon will be flattered beyond words.

He dares not do it with Morgana. Both of them would be secretly be pleased, though they’d kick up one hell of a fuss trying to deny it.

Thankfully, the two of them are in Arthur’s chambers when it happens.

Merlin’s not entirely sure he could use the “concussion” excuse like he did last time, not with the length of time it lasted.

It’s late, the curtains are drawn—with the traditional inch wide gap allowing a strip of moonlight to fall across the floor and over Arthur’s bed—and Arthur’s special candles have been lit. He’d been made aware of the spell Merlin had cast on them a few months ago, and though he was annoyed that Merlin had put himself at such risk, he hadn’t asked him to remove the spell, which the servant took as a good sign (both that Arthur wasn’t too mad about the magic, and that it had been a good idea).

The King sits at his desk, doing his normal pile of evening paperwork and trying to fit in as much as he can before Merlin snatches it away and manhandles him into bed, Merlin who is generally pottering around the room tidying. Arthur thinks of it more as just... moving the mess around, but he let’s him be; Merlin’s quiet company is much appreciated, especially with all the difficulties Arthur is having with repealing the ban on magic.

The King lets out a deep sigh, sitting back in his chair and tiredly rubbing his eyes. Merlin notices, because of course he does, and wanders over, a concerned frown on his face as he sits in the chair opposite him:

“You alright? Hit a snag?”

Arthur hums but shakes his head, opening his eyes but staying slumped in his seat; Merlin makes plans to get him to bed at some point in the next half candle mark at least:

“Hmm. No, just tired. This whole thing is draining, I wish I could just force them to see sense.”

Merlin knew that the them Arthur speaks of is the council. Currently, The King has about half of them on side, not including Leon, Morgana, and Gaius, but they need a majority by a significant margin before they can move forward, and Arthur refuses to act in any way that isn’t democratic.

Merlin nods, smiling softly at his lap as Arthur closes his eyes again:

“This is what it means to be King, Arthur,-”

At first, Merlin doesn’t notice the way Arthur’s eyes fly open, nor the way he slowly sits up straight, nor the way his shoulders tighten and his skin grows pale and his eyes go vacant.

“-but I think you’re doing great, don’t be too hard on... Arthur? Are you alright?”

Merlin frowns when he finally looks up to see The King sitting ramrod straight and staring into the middle distance, his breathing ragged and his blue eyes glassy and unseeing. He stands slowly, moving around to Arthur’s side to crouch there and wave a hand in front of his face.

He doesn’t react.

Merlin shakes his shoulder slightly, hesitating only momentarily before touching him, but even then, Arthur doesn’t respond. The servant gulps, glancing over his shoulder at the door to make sure it was locked before touching a hand to Arthur’s forehead and muttering a spell; he normally uses this spell to wake up unconscious people, but it has no effect on The King other than sending a slight shiver through his body.

Merlin calls his name a few times, but it expectedly has no effect. He tries to test Arthur’s pain awareness by pinching the underside of his arm, and whilst he flinches away slightly, he doesn’t come to, still stares blankly at the opposite wall. Merlin thinks of calling for the guards and asking for Gaius, but somehow he doesn’t think the elderly physician will be able to help; there was no magic at play here, and he certainly hadn’t been poisoned. In all honestly he just looked a little zoned out, like the time Merlin had lied about the concussion, except it was clearly lasting longer this time.

Merlin frowns but tries his best to keep the panic at bay, it had only been a few minutes now, but other than breathing Arthur hadn’t moved an inch.

The servant takes a deep, relaxing breath, or at least what he hoped would be a relaxing breath. It’s not. He uses magic to slide Arthur’s chair away from the desk slightly, and moves into the space it leaves, shuffling all of the paperwork away and leaning on the edge. Once again, he puts one hand on Arthur’s shoulder, and takes his hand with the other, squeezing slightly.

He waits.

After another ten minutes or so, Arthur’s breathing gets slightly more frantic, and he begins squeezing Merlin’s hand back. Merlin moves closer, crouching in between Arthur’s legs and shaking his shoulder again, but he stops when Arthur begins muttering:

“Didn’t... I... I’m sorry. Not my.... didn’t... didn’t mean to... sorry... disappointment...”

Merlin’s frown deepens at the barely audible whispers, especially when he notices the tears gathering in Arthur’s eyes. He shakes his shoulder again and forces himself to speak, just about managing to keep the waiver from his voice:

“Arthur, there’s no one else here, it’s just you and me, it’s just us, just Arthur and Merlin. It’s the evening in late Autumn, it’s almost time for bed, you sparred with Percival this morning and had a long, annoying council meeting this afternoon. You’re sat at your desk in your chambers with me, no one else.”

Arthur’s eyes come into focus, slowly at first and then all at once. He blinks and stands suddenly, almost tipping his chair backwards in his haste as he reaches a hand to his sword-less hip. Merlin moves back quickly, grimacing as he bumps harshly into the desk. Arthur’s gaze whips around the room desperately, as if searching for a danger that he was certain was there, before his eyes finally land on Merlin. The servant holds his hands out placatingly, not relaxing even as Arthur takes a deep breath and seems to calm down.

The King slumps back in his seat, rubbing the tears from his eyes with shaking hands; Merlin crouches down again, but doesn’t dare touch him, not quite yet:

“Arthur?”

His head whips up, but he relaxes again when he sees Merlin sat in front of him:

“Yes, sorry, I... must of dozed off or something.”

Merlin frowns, but nods one, speaking slowly, his tone low and even:

“Hmm. Must’ve, you looked like you were having a nightmare or something so I woke you. Time for bed, I think.”

For once, Arthur actually agrees with him, not bothering to argue like normal as he stands on shaking legs and heads to where Merlin has neatly laid his sleeping clothes on the bed. Merlin’s concerned gaze follows him, but he doesn’t move too far from the desk, deciding that he and Gaius definitely need to have a chat about... whatever the hell that was.

Half a candle mark later, Arthur is quietly wishing his manservant a good night and dismissing him. He was obviously distracted, Merlin normally can’t be frowning for more than thirty seconds before The King is hounding him about what’s wrong, but thirty minutes pass with not a question from Arthur, and Merlin makes his way to the Physician’s Chambers hoping that Gaius is still awake.

Thankfully, the elderly physician is still pottering around, tidying away various bits and pieces and generally preparing the room for a new day tomorrow. He immediately notices Merlin’s peculiar mood and gestures for the younger man to sit opposite him at the table:

“What’s bothering you, my boy?”

Merlin sits slowly, biting his lip and trying to decide just how honest to be:

“What does it mean if someone... zones out, completely, for extended periods of time?”

Gaius raises an eyebrow:

“I’m going to need a little more than that, Merlin.”

Merlin huffs but nods, shuffling in his seat slightly but responding:

“I was with someone earlier today. We were just chatting whilst we worked and suddenly they just... weren’t there anymore. Stiff, eyes glazed over, ragged breathing. They responded slightly to pain but it didn’t snap them out of it and they just... sat there, utterly blankly, for about twenty minutes. Eventually they started muttering to themselves, but it didn’t make any sense, then they... woke up, I guess, and thought they had fallen asleep. They definitely weren’t asleep, but they weren’t... I don’t know, conscious?”

Gaius frowns but nods, clutching his hands tightly on the table as he explains, his voice grave:

“Hmm. Sounds like an extended disassociation episode. I gather that I’m not to be told who this was?-”

Merlin shakes his head slightly, and though he looks slightly annoyed, Gaius nods and continues:

“-This happens mostly to people who experience something extremely traumatic, though it also happens in victims of extended abuse, especially if the abuse was in childhood, the younger the victim, the worse the reaction. Occasionally it can happen randomly, though it’s mostly triggered by something in their surrounding environment.”

Merlin’s frown deepens, and Gaius would easily hazard a guess at saying he looks angry. He doesn’t point it out though, just waits for his ward to continue:

“What can trigger it? And what other symptoms will child abuse victims display?”

Gaius takes another deep breath, but slowly responds:

“Anything can be a trigger really, something they see or smell or hear, something someone else does or says.-”

(”This is what it means to be King, Arthur,-” pops into Merlin’s head.)

“-As for other symptoms, aversion to touch, occasionally fear of being alone, OR fear of being in another’s presence. Some experience trouble with regulating strong emotions, difficulty in regulating long term relationships, platonic or otherwise, trouble with self-esteem. It varies from person to person, there is no strict list of obvious signs. Might I ask... why?”

Merlin shakes his head and stands, moving towards his bedroom with clenched hands and tight shoulders. Just before he shuts the door behind him, he turns to look at Gaius over his shoulder, brow furrowed and voice low:

“What... what was Uther like? When Arthur was a child?”

Gaius closes his eyes briefly, letting out a weary sigh and trying his best to hold in his grief:

“Strict, extremely difficult to please. He never... he never hit Arthur, not in public anyway, though it wouldn’t surprise me if he was violent privately. As a child, The Prince was terrified of the dark, and the dungeons. I got the impression that Uther forced him down there on more than one occasion. Arthur is... the one your concerned about?”

Gaius knows the answer, but it doesn’t stop the tears from welling in his eyes when Merlin wordlessly nods before shutting the door behind him.

+1)

A few weeks have passed since Merlin had figured it all out.

He didn’t dare bring it up to Arthur, and shuts the conversation down any time Gaius mentions it. The conversation is for Arthur, and Arthur only, and Merlin wasn’t going to force it.

Besides, they’ve been extremely busy with the transitions; The Kingdom was going from anti-magic to pro-magic, and Merlin was going from servant to a member of court. Arthur had tried to force nobility onto him as well as his position as Court Sorcerer, but Merlin had put his foot down at that, insisting that he wouldn’t become some stuck up wealthy arsehole, not even if his life was on the line.

Gwaine, Elyan, Percival, Gwen, and Morgana had grinned at that, Arthur and Lancelot rolled their eyes, Mordred continued to insist on calling him “My Lord” anyway, and Leon had looked marginally affronted as he mumbled something along the lines of “I’m a Lord you know, technically.”.

They aren’t lucky this time around, and it all comes to an explosive head in a quiet, though still habited corridor in the middle of the afternoon.

Afterwards, Merlin absent-mindedly considers the fact that they could’ve been in the courtyard or the throne room or somewhere equally busy, and thanks the Gods for just this little bit of luck; only two servants, one guard, and the... the noble and his son were in the corridor at the time.

Arthur and Merlin are making their way to the council room, preparing themselves for a busy meeting: it was the first since magic was officially legalised, and the first that Merlin (and Gwen, though that was another matter entirely) would officially be sitting in on. Though, in all honesty, pretty much the whole Kingdom knew that Merlin had been advising Arthur privately for years.

Merlin frowns and Arthur stiffens slightly as they spot the noble gripping his young son’s collar and aggressively whispering at him. The boy can’t be more than ten summers old, but the tears in his eyes display his utter terror clearly enough; no child should ever have to be that scared, especially not of their parents. Merlin resigns himself to just magicking the pig’s trousers down when no one was looking his way, but barely a second after he makes that decision the man raises his hand, and slaps the boy across the face.

Everyone in the corridor freezes as the boy cries out, and the noble doesn’t seem to notice the way the guard looks frantically between him and The King, waiting for instruction, or the way the servants and Merlin were staring, horrified. Arthur breaks out of his shocked stupor first, striding towards him with his fist already raised and his eyes blazing:

“How fucking DARE you?!”

His knuckles make violent contact with the man’s mouth, and the spray of blood from a busted lip and loosened teeth is what spurs Merlin into action. He runs forward, scooping the distraught boy up in his arms and quickly handing him over to one of the servants:

“Take him to Gaius, swear that you will not utter a word of this to anyone bar the Court Physician?”

His eyes flash golden as the servants’ both nod, and they rush off in the direction of the Physician’s chambers. Merlin, satisfied that they will be unable to break their promise, turns next to the guard, momentarily ignoring the way Arthur has shoved the bleeding noble against the stone wall:

“Fetch the Lady Morgana and Guinevere and tell them to go to Gaius and the boy, stay with them, swear that you will inform no one bar those three what has happened?”

The guard nods, understanding the magic implicitly as Merlin’s eyes flash gold again. He spares The King and his deserving victim one last glance before running towards Morgana’s chambers.

Merlin turns, finally, to Arthur, almost-but-not-quite recoiling at the tears on his cheeks as he lands another punch to the noble’s jaw. His face is black and blue at this point, and Merlin pulls Arthur back just as he raises his fist again; he thrashes in his grip, but quickly sags as his breathing deepens. The noble falls to the floor, unconscious in all likelihood, and Merlin clicks his fingers, banishing him to the dungeons with nothing but a shower of golden sparks.

Arthur breathes deeply, leaning all of his weight on Merlin as he clamps his un-bruised hand over his mouth, his wide eyes staring intensely at where the boy had been stood moments before. He doesn’t respond to Merlin’s calls, and with another flash of gold, they disappear, reappearing in Arthur’s bed chamber.

Merlin shoots Mordred a quick message over their mental link as he lowers Arthur to the floor, leaning him against the edge of the bed and moving around to be crouched in front of him. The King’s breathing has gotten dangerously deep and dangerously fast, the tears streaming down his face as his hands clench and unclench around nothing. Merlin quickly intertwines their fingers in an effort to stop Arthur hurting himself, but that just freaks the other man out even more as he desperately scrambles to get away from the contact.

Merlin lets go and moves back, eyes wide and desperate as he watches Arthur bring his knees up to his chest, burying his head in his arms and rocking slightly. His cries are muffled, but Merlin can still hear the heart wrenching sound; the Warlock takes a moment to breath before he stealthily moves around the room, lighting candles, locking the door, and shutting the curtains (bar an inch), before moving back to sit beside Arthur, a foot or so of space between them.

After a few minutes of no change, Merlin starts humming. He can’t remember any of the words, but it’s an old lullaby his mum used to sing when he couldn’t sleep, when he was scared of his own magic and his own friends and every shadow that moved in the dark. Arthur’s breathing slows, though he still hiccups occasionally, and Merlin rests his hand on the stone floor between them: an offer, not a demand.

Arthur doesn’t take it, instead shuffling over to lean his head on Merlin’s shoulder. Merlin freezes, not daring to put his arm around the other man as he continues to hum; he must’ve circled back and restarted the same song six, seven, eight times before Arthur nuzzles in further and sniffs before muttering:

“You’ve a good voice, Merlin.”

Merlin huffs a gentle laugh, leaning his head on top of Arthur’s softly as he quietly replies:

“Runs in the family, my mother used to sing to me, though I don’t really know any other tunes I’m afraid.”

Arthur nods, but doesn’t reply, turning into Merlin’s chest slightly as the Warlock hesitatingly wraps his arms around the other man; he stops being so hesitant when he notices Arthur’s eagerness. Merlin pulls him close, sighing but letting Arthur settle in before he says anything. In the back of his mind, he’s aware of the pain shooting up his spine at being sat on the stone floor for so long, but he decides he doesn’t really care, if this is what Arthur needs.

After a few more minutes, he rubs his cheek into Arthur’s soft hair and speaks, his voice gentle and loving:

“Feeling better?”

Arthur stiffens slightly, but quickly relaxes, nodding into Merlin’s chest and mumbling:

“The boy?”

Merlin smiles at Arthur’s worry:

“Safe. He’s with Gaius, Morgana, and Gwen, under protective guard.”

Arthur nods again, tightening his hold on Merlin’s tunic:

“And his... father?”

“Bloodied up and locked in the dungeons, far away from his son. Mordred let the guards know that he is not to leave under any circumstances, told the council that the meeting had been postponed until further notice, and then went to relieve the guard in the Physician’s chambers.”

The King relaxes, and so does Merlin, though only slightly, he knows that this is where that terrifying conversation has opportunity to rear it’s ugly head:

“Arthur, are we going to talk about this?-”

He rushes to carry on when Arthur’s breath hitches and his hands pull on Merlin’s tunic slightly:

“-You can say no, Arthur. I swear, I will never, ever ask, not if you don’t want me to.”

Arthur doesn’t relax, but he shakes his head, gulping before replying, his voice thick:

“No, it’s fine, I should probably... talk about it, right? Morgana is always on my arse about being less repressed or whatever.-”

Merlin nods, but doesn’t say anything, stroking his fingers through Arthur’s hair rhythmically. Arthur lets out a deep breath, humming contentedly at the gesture and leaning even more into it:

“-My father was... difficult to please. His default was anger, no matter what, and it was... rare, for him to be anything but furious. He never... not in public, and never left marks where anyone could see.-”

Merlin struggles against the urge to hit someone (preferably Uther, though unfortunately he was dead. He supposes Uther’s old supporters would do in a pinch), but he makes do with taking a deep breath:

“-When he was especially furious he would lock me in a storage closet, or the dungeons. He... he would order that all the lights be put out, and all the windows covered, so I couldn’t see. Merlin I couldn’t see anything. I still... I can’t stand the dark, but I’m guess you figured that out?-”

Merlin knows that he’s referring to the candles and the perpetually open curtains and nods, humming in agreement:

“-How pathetic is that? A grown man, a King, afraid of the dark.”

Merlin tightens his grip on Arthur and shakes his head:

“It’s not pathetic, Arthur. It’s an automatic response, a defence mechanism that your brain puts in place to try and protect you from being re-traumatised. To this day, I’m terrified of fire, even though I have no reason to be anymore, even though it can’t hurt me as a Dragon Lord.”

Arthur gulps, but relaxes slightly, though his voice is quiet, almost ashamed as he continues:

“I can’t look at Lancelot’s turned back, I struggle to spar with him as well. He... he doesn’t even look anything like my father, he just... he always wears red and has the same hair as my father when he was younger and they’re the same height. Sometimes I feel like I’m a child again, everything around me just disappears and I’m back in that dungeon, or my father is stood over me screaming. How am I meant to be a good King when I’m scared of my own shadow?”

Merlin sighs, staying silent for a few minutes as he attempts to put an answer together in his mind. Arthur sniffles again, and Merlin is suddenly made aware of the wet patch where Arthur’s head rests on his tunic:

“I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, as many times as you want: you are a wonderful King. You’ve delivered a Golden Age upon this Kingdom, your friends love you, your people adore you. You’ve never just been a good King, Arthur, you’ve been the best this Kingdom, and this world, has ever seen.”

Arthur loosens his grip again but huffs a quiet laugh against Merlin’s chest, which the Warlock definitely counts as a win:

“Kiss-ass.”

Merlin laughs this time, though he doesn’t stop carding his fingers through Arthur’s hair:

“Nah, when have you ever known me to kiss ass? I speak only the truth, My Lord.”

They both fall silent again, and Arthur pulls away from Merlin’s chest. Merlin drops his arms immediately, not wanting to make the other man uncomfortable, but Arthur just takes one of his hands and goes back to sitting by his side, his head resting on Merlin’s shoulder. The silence is long, but comfortable, and it’s dark outside by the time Arthur speaks again:

“Merlin?-”

The Warlock doesn’t make a sound, but squeezes Arthur’s hand in acknowledgement:

“-I thanked you for all the big stuff: saving my life, and saving the Kingdom, and all that. But I never thanked you for the small stuff. The candles and the endless support and the excuses.”

Merlin frowns slightly in confusion, not that Arthur can see:

“Excuses?”

“You didn’t think I didn’t notice, did you? You started years and years ago. You always seemed to notice when being with... with my father, or the knights, or anyone really, was getting too much, you always had some excuse ready. Sometimes you outright lied, even if it would get you in trouble, just to get me away from people. I don’t know how you knew... no one else ever realised. Saying I had paperwork when I didn’t, or a patrol when I wasn’t scheduled for one, or a concussion just to give me some privacy. Thank you.”

Merlin smiles slightly, squeezing Arthur’s hand again:

“You were too busy looking after everyone else, someone had to look after you. I’m grateful it was me, Arthur, I-”

He pauses and sits up slightly straighter, though it doesn’t jostle Arthur too much. He lifts his head anyway, staring at Merlin in concern with tired eyes:

“Merlin?”

Merlin looks to him suddenly, but smiles:

“Hmm, sorry, just Mordred. Updating me on the kid and asking if you’re alright.-”

Arthur’s cheeks flush slightly, but Merlin’s smile grows as he shakes his head:

“-Don’t worry, no one knows about... this, just that you went berserk when you saw a Noble beating his kid, and punched his teeth out.”

Arthur relaxes and nods, humming thoughtfully as he looks to the floor. He stands up, wobbling only slightly after being curled up in the same position on a cold stone floor for several hours, and Merlin follows him confusedly:

“Do... do you want to go check in on them? The kid’s been asking after you apparently, wants to thank you.-”

Arthur looks conflicted, almost as if he were worrying that he wouldn’t actually be welcomed, so Merlin puts a hand on his shoulder and smiles, waiting until Arthur looks at him before continuing:

“-We can leave it until morning, if you like, but you saved that boy, Arthur, there’s nothing to worry about.”

Arthur nods, but doesn’t move until Merlin wipes his face clean with his sleeve and smooths out his clothes. If he uses a little magic to make the two of them more presentable, then neither of them mention it as they walk purposefully to the door.

Merlin looks to Arthur stood next to him, his hand hovering over the door handle:

“Ready?”

Arthur smiles at him, taking his hand and squeezing it, but not dropping it as he opens the door and steps into the corridor:

“Ready.”

THE END!!!

As angsty as it was, I really enjoyed writing that😅. I couldn’t help myself though, I had to give it a happy ending :D

I hope y’all enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it!! I love y’all!!

My Ko-Fi, which is where I post sneak peeks of upcoming works, check it out and consider donating!!

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thelazyhermits · 2 years ago

Text

I managed to complete Book 4! I was worried I wouldn’t be able to after seeing all the horror story posts about Jamil’s fight lol He was tough, but somehow, I managed to eventually get a victory 😂

While I’ll probably make a post about Book 4 like I did with the other books, I wanna cover another topic first which I’ll go into detail about underneath the cut.

From the looks of it, Christmas isn’t a thing in TW since while the NRC students go home for the “holidays” we’re never actually told what the holiday is if there is actually a named one. Sure, we could guess Christmas, but considering the kind of world this is, it’s more than likely that the holiday just doesn’t exist there.

Despite this, I see Yuu wanting to celebrate it because she has never done so before and has always wanted to, and that’s especially the case now that she actually has friends.

That’s why as December approaches Yuu starts working on presents for those she considers friends, which consists of the Heartslabyul, Savanaclaw, and Octanivelle guys as well as Malleus and Grim since those are the people she interacts with the most at this point in the timeline.

Plus, these are the guys who know about Yuu being from another world since all the guys from dorms that have had an Overblot case by this point in time find out about her situation and her Quirk, so she won’t have to come up with an excuse for why she’s giving out gifts for a holiday that technically doesn’t exist.

In the case of Malleus, Yuu reveals that she’s another world to him during one of their late night strolls since it’s just so easy to talk to him, and she always feels safe/comfortable with him so she felt that she can trust him with that personal information.

(As far as the Octotrio is concerned, she’s not really sure how to describe her relationship with them. She thinks she can consider them friends, but she’s not entirely sure how they view her so she wonders if the friendship might be one-sided, which would make her slightly reluctant to call them her friends cause of how awkward that would be if they really don’t view her as such.

At the very least, they are the people she works with so she’d like to do something nice for them since they do treat her well for the most part. Plus, she’s afraid of what Floyd might do to her if he finds out she gave gifts to others and not him lol)

After the events of Book 4, Yuu also gets presents for Kalim & Jamil since they’re people she wants to become good friends with. Technically, she already was friends with Kalim, but since they didn’t really hang out a lot up until this point, Yuu didn’t know if she should give him a present or not.

(Her interactions with Kalim before Book 4 started with her helping him put the fire out on his butt at the entrance ceremony, and from there on, their interactions mostly consisted of him approaching her whenever he saw her to have a friendly chat or him and Jamil joining her by chance when she was using the school’s kitchen. And there was the one time when he volunteered his and Jamil’s services to help Yuu one day when she was studying for her final exams in the library.)

Yuu also ends up doing last minute Christmas presents for Idia & Ortho during the winter break since that’s when she first gets the chance to hang out with Idia and she found herself wanting to do something for the brothers after spending that time with them.

Plus, Yuu just really wanted to help cheer up the usually gloomy Idia and help put him more at ease around her, and she thought a Christmas present would be the perfect way to do that

(Up until that point, Yuu had only interacted with Ortho whom she first meets after Book 2 during one of her shifts at Sam’s shop when Ortho comes by to make a purchase for Idia. Since they got along well during that first encounter, they always ended up chatting with each other whenever they saw each other at the store.

It was during these chats that Yuu learned about Idia and how he rarely leaves his room which worries Ortho who would like for his brother to go out more.

Yuu tried to provide as helpful advice as she could since she has a weak spot for cute faces like Ortho’s. Plus, he’s one of the sweetest people on campus and has that kid-like innocence to him, so she can’t help but be immensely fond of him.

Eventually, Ortho came up with the idea of introducing Yuu to Idia once he heard about all the friends Yuu has via her telling him about all the crazy hijinks she gets into thanks to Ace/Deuce/Grim and her encounters with the other dorms.

Because Yuu’s social skills stat appears to be very high level in Ortho’s opinion and she doesn’t have the kind of personality that would overwhelm Idia, Ortho thought she’d be the perfect person to introduce to his brother to help him make friends.

That’s why Ortho told Yuu that he and his brother will be staying at the dorm during the winter break and invited her to pay them a visit when she’s free since he’d love to introduce her to Idia.

While Yuu wasn’t too convinced that she’ll be able to work the kind of magic that Ortho is hoping for, Yuu agreed to pay the brothers a visit since she couldn’t deny feeling curious about Idia, and she’s never visited their dorm before so she can’t help but be curious about it. Plus, Ortho’s just too cute to say no to lol

So, after Book 4′s events, Yuu paid the Ignihyde dorm a visit with Grim, and because Ortho never told him about this in advance, Idia was very shocked and really out of sorts thanks to their visit. Meanwhile, Grim was panicking because his first encounter with Idia, whom he had met before in the past, involved Idia unintentionally scaring the hell out of him lol

As expected, Idia was not very fond of Ortho’s idea to help with his social skills, but Ortho eventually wore him down which is how the start of Yuu’s “playdates” with the Shroud brothers began haha)

To get the funds she’ll need, Yuu works extra shifts at the Mostro Lounge and helps out at Sam’s store whenever she can to earn enough money that she can afford presents for everyone.

Unlike in canon, Yuu knows about winter break ahead of time since it didn’t really make sense to me that Yuu/Grim were seemingly unware of it right up until school let out for the break lol So she’s been planning for Christmas for a while.

Since winter break starts before Christmas Day, Yuu hands out the presents before the guys leave for home and tells them that they can either open them right away or save it for Christmas like what’s done in her world.

(Riddle, Deuce, & Jack actually wait until Christmas Day to open their presents. Meanwhile, everyone else either opens the present as soon as they get home or saves it for later but still ends up opening it before the 25th.)

In the case of the Octotrio, Yuu had considered waiting until Christmas to deliver their presents once she learned that they were staying at NRC for the winter break, but once Floyd caught onto what she was doing, he wanted his present effective immediately so she ended up handing them out to the Octotrio after the Tweels so kindly escorted her and Grim to the Mostro Lounge for the present gifting after everyone else left for home lol

For Grim’s present, Yuu bought a special magical chest from Sam’s store that has a large storage capacity and can also keep food preserved thanks to the magic enchanting it. She filled it with different snacks/dishes that she made which Grim can pull out whenever he so desires. She also made him a new bow since the one he normally wears is tattered at the ends.

(I don’t know if I mentioned this in a previous post, but Yuu knows how to sew and can do it quite well since she’s been doing it for years.

She had no choice but to learn since she had to fix her clothes whenever they got torn because Mumei wouldn’t buy her new clothes unless absolutely necessary so she needed to make the best use of her clothing for as long as possible.

And Mumei would make her fix other things too if he didn’t feel like spending the money to buy new things.

Yuu doesn’t, however, know how to knit when she first comes to NRC, but I like the idea of her learning while she’s at NRC. Maybe she gets a book that can teach her how to knit from Sam and ends up getting some help from him and Crewel who both strike me as the type who know how to do it. Sam just seems like the type that’s good at anything with his hands while Crewel probably knows how to do anything related to fashion including how to make knitwear.)

For Ace, she made a goodie bag of his favorite snacks and a pair of gloves that has the ace of hearts design. She added a special pocket to the gloves so he can hide cards there whenever he’s doing magic tricks or trying to scam people with card games. (The latter of which she normally disapproves of, but she doesn’t mind it when he’s putting people in their place after they were causing their group of friends trouble.)

Deuce got a similar present. However, his gloves have a spade design and were made of a special material, which she got from Sam’s shop, that ensures the wearer can always have a good grip and keeps the wearer’s hands heated. Yuu made them with Deuce’s love of driving his magiwheel in mind since she knew he’d need a good grip on his magiwheel’s handles, and she wanted to make sure his hands were kept warm when he was driving at breakneck speed in the winter.

Riddle’s present was similar to Grim’s. Yuu got him a chest that she filled with strawberry tarts and other tasty desserts since she knew he wouldn’t have easy access to them while at home for the holidays. She also made him a handkerchief that she decorated with roses, hearts, and a red hedgehog.

For Trey, Yuu made a goodie bag of snacks and bought a notebook that she filled with lots of dessert recipes from her world that she thought he would be interested in since they aren’t a thing in TW like Japanese cheesecake. She filled it with her own personal notes so it would have that old, been-in-the-family-for-a-while cookbook feel. She also filled it with cute doodles and notes of encouragement since she knew he’d be working hard during the break at his family’s bakery.

Yuu also bought a notebook for Cater, but for him, she filled the pages with letters to him where she talked about anything and everything she could think of that she thought he might find entertaining, sharing lots of things about her world and things happening at school that he might have missed, since he had expressed how he wasn’t looking forward to dealing with his sisters bossing him around at home, and she had wanted to give him something he could look at each day to help cheer him up. There are also plenty of encouraging messages and doodles for that reason. He also got a goodie bag, but unlike the others, his wasn’t filled with sweets since he doesn’t like them, so she made spicy treats instead, which Grim taste-tested for her since she can’t handle spicy food.

Because she knew how Leona felt about his family and having to be around them during the winter break, Yuu decided to make his Christmas present a care package that she told him to not open unless he’s in a bad mood. She did that because the care package was made for the sake of helping Leona cheer up when he gets in the kind of mood he always does when at home, which is why Yuu filled it with snacks he likes, brain teaser puzzles she thought he might enjoy, some of which she got from Sam’s shop while others she handmade and based off puzzles from her world, a notebook that Yuu filled with descriptions of mystery novels she read in her world since she sometimes shares theses stories with Leona to see if he can solve the mysteries, and notes she wrote him to cheer him up/entertain him.

In one of those notes, Yuu teasingly wrote that while Cheka is definitely the cutest Kingscholar she knows Leona will always be her favorite.

A present for Cheka was also included in the care package which was a goodie bag of snacks and a stuffed animal made to look like Leona. Yuu did this because she wanted to give Cheka a present, and she thought Leona could pass it along to Cheka during a moment when he needed to distract his nephew and get a break from him, although she adds in the sticky note attached to that present that she still wants Leona to play with Cheka and not try to escape him the whole time he’s home lol

Ruggie’s present was like Grim/Riddle’s, except it was a fanny pack rather than a chest. Yuu filled it with lots of delicious dishes/snacks for him to eat and share with the kids and his grandma back home. She also made him some socks that have a hyena-themed design.

For Jack, Yuu made him a snow cap that accommodates his ears since he had told her that he likes snowboarding/skiing which he would be doing once he got home. She also made him a goodie bag of snacks that he could share between himself and his younger siblings.

For Malleus’s gift, Yuu made him a goodie bag of treats and a scarf which she decorated with gargoyles. She likely gave him his present first since she never knows when he’ll drop by for a visit, and she wanted to make sure she delivered it to him before he left for the winter break.

Yuu had the hardest time deciding what to get for the Octotrio, but eventually, she got the idea of using the pretty gemstones that she had collected when she had been exploring the Coral Sea with the Tweels after they had kidnapped her and made her spend the day with them following her first failed attempt to get into the Atlantica museum.

For Jade, she, with Sam’s help, had a pair of cufflinks made, using some of the gems which were made to look like mushrooms. She also gave him a notebook that she filled with mushroom dish recipes and puns/jokes, the latter of which made Jade pretty much useless for a while because he couldn’t stop chuckling, much to Azul’s exasperation.

For Floyd, Yuu got him some shoelaces that, with Sam’s help, she was able to get some eels, that were made from the ocean gemstones, crafted at the tips of them. She also got some shoe soles from Sam that are not only incredibly soft/comfortable but also enchanted to protect the wearer’s feet and make the wearer’s steps more light-footed. Since Floyd enjoys dancing/parkour, Yuu wanted to give him something that could be useful in that regard.

For Azul, she used the gemstones to get a cute octopus tie pin made for him. In addition to that, Yuu filled a notebook with recipes and popular business models from her world that she thought he’d be interested in. She also threw in some compliments and encouraging messages at random throughout the notebook since she thought it’d be funny to imagine him smirking at all the money making ideas before getting blindsided by a compliment haha

Kalim was another hard person to shop for since he can afford to get literally anything. That’s why, in the end, Yuu decided to make something for him rather than try to buy something.

(Because the Scarabia duo’s gifts were last minute, Yuu got what she needed from town which she visited with the Octotrio since they were bored and didn’t have anything better to do lol)

After buying the necessary materials and a book to teach her the process, Yuu made a bracelet for Kalim since she had remembered seeing many times on TV how friends would make bracelets for each other as an expression of friendship, and she thought Kalim would appreciate a heartfelt gift like that.

Unlike with Kalim, Yuu didn’t have a hard time deciding on what to get for Jamil since she had something in mind before she went shopping.

Jamil’s present ended up becoming two separate presents since she wanted to give him the present she first came up with to him in private.

For the present Yuu gave him while in the company of Kalim, Yuu gave Jamil a handmade hair tie since she had wanted to make something for him like what she did for Kalim, but she didn’t want to give him the same thing as Kalim for obvious reasons.

Once the two were alone, Yuu gave Jamil the present she bought in town, which was a ring that matched the one she bought for herself. She made them both into necklaces since they can be hidden under their clothing since she figured that’s how Jamil would prefer it if he ever wished to actually wear it.

When she gave him the present, she told him it was a promise ring. The ring is a symbol of Yuu’s desire to help Jamil achieve the freedom he deserves. She promised that she’ll do whatever she can to help him find the kind of freedom she finally gained when she came to NRC.

Yuu wanted to give him something that would be a reminder to them both of her promise and also be a reminder to him that he has someone he can call an ally if he so wishes.

Since she doesn’t really know Idia very well at this point, Yuu refrained from trying to find a material gift for him. Instead, she went the food route and makes some cat shaped cookies for him since she knew he loves cats and enjoys sweets thanks to all the sweet snacks she has seen Ortho buy for him at Sam’s store.

Yuu also made him a character bento based on an anime character she learned that he likes after spending some time with him since she thought that would be something an otaku like him would enjoy haha

Yuu was very glad she stocked up before the winter break and that Sam kindly gave her a bunch of discounts, so she had the ingredients she needed.

For Ortho, Yuu ended up buying him a board game that involves solving mysteries (aka like Clue) with Azul’s help since he knew a store in town that she could get good board games from. She picked out this gift because Ortho told her that he likes board games and because he always enjoyed talking about mystery novels with her in the past, which is a favorite topic of hers to discuss.

In the end, she just figured that the best gift for Ortho would be something they could do together that they’d have an equal amount of fun doing.

Since the Shroud brothers don’t know she’s from another world by this point in the timeline, Yuu just told them that where she’s from it’s common to give gifts at this time of the year, and they thankfully didn’t press the matter since they just assumed it was a tradition in the town she came from.

Regarding what the guys do in return, they do give Yuu presents. The ones who went home for the break bring her back something when they return to NRC at the end of the winter break, and the Octotrio, Scarabia duo, and Shroud brothers get her something before the end of the break.

While I’m currently drawing a blank on the majority of those gifts, I do like the idea of Malleus giving Yuu a ring that he made using his magic which can summon a shield of sorts to protect her from magic attacks thanks to the protective charm he added to it since he wanted to give her something that would keep her safe. That gift was passed along to her when Lilia dropped off the holiday greeting card Malleus sent her.

#TABF AU #fortune in twisted wonderland

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anne-i-write · 4 years ago

Text

moriarty the patriot headcannons pt. 1

| requested by anon: Can you write about all male characters in moriarty has a same look of their children and hpw many children they want? |

william x reader; louis x reader; albert x reader; sebastian x reader; fred x reader

word count: 2397

pt. 2: 221b boys

a/n: I DONT KNOW WHY I DIDNT WRITE THIS EARLIER IM SO SORRY THIS REQUEST HAS LITERALLY BEEN IN MY INBOX FOR SO LONG I AM SO SORRY I HOPE YOU ENJOY THIS

william: 487 words

with his whole plan to clean the world of the filthy nobles, william never really stopped to think about having children

well, until he met you

you both were in town one day and he saw you fondly watching a child speak with her mother

“i think two children would be nice”

“i didn’t even ask”

“i know, but the look you gave that mother was telling enough”

n e ways he is a simp and he did eventually give you what you wanted

fast forward a few years, you have two children: a boy and a girl

and they look exactly like their father

like,, it lowkey pains you how much they physically take after their father

you wanted to be like “oh they have your personality, but they look just like me!”

granted, your son took after you in an emotional sense but your daughter was a daddy’s girl through and through

like she looks like him, she acts like him, speaks like him, she even EATS like him

ok but the men w your children

fred is a freaking sweetheart ok

like he’ll watch over the kids when no one has the time and they love him too so they’ll help out in the garden which you are SO thankful for

tbh they only like uncle albert bc he brings them lil trinkets from when he gets back from london LMAO

louis doesn’t show it, but he absolutely adores your children and makes extra snacks for them at tea time

you caught onto this at one point bc for some REASON your kids would not stop bouncing off of the walls before bed and they told you uncle louis gave them chocolate

and sebastian loves messing w your kids bc,,, sebastian

but he accidentally made your son cry ONCE and he was at the mercy of every adult in the moriarty estate including the boy’s younger sister

needless to say, he watched his actions and words around your children after that

now, william

i’m just gonna say this straight out: most of the men never really thought about having kids (save john and albert)

but when you finally had kids, william had a different outlook on life

like fr,, this man works overtime now trying to get rid of the filth that is called nobles

he doesn’t want his kids to be raised in a world where just because you have more money than another means you get to look down on them

you still instill in them those good morals ofc

he also tries to be very present in their lives since he and his brother were raised as orphans

when he was younger, he didn’t mind it all much

but now that he had this small family and a brighter future, he did everything in his power to make sure they’re happy and grow up in a cleaner and kinder world

louis: 320 words

it took you a week to get him to at LEAST humor you

“if you could, how many kids do you want?”

“none”

like, this guy is so dedicated to his brother and his cause it is a WONDER you somehow wormed your way into his heart

but you did and honestly, the brothers are actually very happy that you’re with them

william especially

louis rarely emotes but when you came into their lives, you got louis pissed at one point and everyone was like,,,, wtf?? he has emotions???

anyways, his answer is one kid LMAO

and when you get that one kid, he looks just like louis

yall already KNOW that he’s ready to die for that child as soon as louis holds him in his arms

the only kid sebastian wouldnt even try to mess with

he can deal with william’s albert’s or fred’s kids but louis lowkey intimidates him so he’s as nice as he can be

that being said, louis teaches his kid how to properly handle stuff around the house

you want to cry bc ur son is just so??? the little kid just loves helping out no matter how small the task and he’s just so cute it hurts

even sebastian’s kinda like,, “aight he’s the only kid i will tolerate”

louis grew up with only his brothers so he also wants to give his son a shot at a normal family

is actually aware at how he thinks he’s indispensable for william’s cause and he doesn’t want his son to end up like him

he also teaches his son some badass fighting moves

oh and louis smiles a lot more too

cried bc his son saw the scar he got on his cheek, rubbed some dirt on his lil face and said “i have daddy’s cool scar now”

all in all his son is the best thing to happen to all of you

albert: 505 words

same as louis in the fact that it takes him a week to answer

“you know you haven’t even answered my question”

“i’m sorry, what did you say?”

“how many kids do you want?”

genuinely takes time to ponder that question

he hadn’t thought of that since his family adopted william and louis

but with you?

“i think two darling girls who take after their mother is enough for me”

pls he’d be so sweet 🥺🥺🥺

you two end up having a girl and a boy, who look just like their father

and tbh, you’re not even mad

you love them so much so when albert comes back north, the three of you are ecstatic

the happiness was short lived for albert tho

he found his son spending time with william and there’s nothing bad right????

“where’s your sister?”

“she’s with mr. moran”

his heart DROPPED

out of all the people in the manor

HIM

he sees the two running around the garden

it all happened as soon as albert’s daughter went up to sebastian and said “you’re very pretty! you’re my knight now!”

he decided to “adopt” the little girl and now he’s lowkey whipped

you found albert staring at sebastian playing with his daughter and updated him about everything going on

“but him??”

“he’s just a big softie for her let it go”

isn’t really surprised when he finds out they can fight a little

actually glad that they can hold their own, God forbid anything happens to them

otherwise mi6 has to deal w family matters lmao

“albert, she only tripped”

“you shouldve seen the fear in her eyes as she fell”

“IT WAS A STRAY COBBLESTONE”

would raise hell if anyone even THOUGHT ill of his kids

william and louis are the doting uncles

william more so than louis bc your kids have never seen louis smile

now they’re on a mission to make uncle louis smile

louis was on child duty one day and they managed to slip away

omyGOD he was stressed but also,, extremely worried

so when he found them he had the most genuine smile on his face

your daughter was like (・∀・)

she loves uncle louis

ofc your son adores his dad like,,, who else wouldn't feel awesome at the age of 10 if you found out your dad was a high ranking general

feels superior to sebastian bc of his dad

lmao this 4’5 kid thinks he can rule sebastian for some odd reason

the house is always dirty bc him and sebastian always prank each other

your daughter is trying to catch a butterfly but she can’t so fred helps

instantly loves fred

“is that what heartbreak is”

“i guess that’s what happens when you try to get close to my kids colonel”

albert is kind of afraid of turning into his dad but he has you and everyone else to remind him that: no you are not your father, you are so much better than him

loves your family with his entire being

sebastian: 844 words

“i see you looking at those kids and the answer is none”

lmao you’ll get so pouty around him bc you want kids dammit

that and he spoils you to no end so that's why you’re pouty lol

“fine we’ll only do one kid and bc one kid is all i can tolerate”

bruh

this man gives you three in four years LMFAO

two boys a year apart and a girl in the fourth year

you wanted to smack sebastian

when the two boys grew up, it was obvious they were already taking after their father in the physical sense

it was terrifying

they genuinely look like mini sebastians and you know everyone in the manor is afraid that you two birthed satan

and the satan was your eldest one

he’s just a feral sebastian moran in a tiny body

your second son, god bless him, looked just like his father but with fred’s temperament

and see, you were fine with your sons looking like their father

it was FINE right

you prayed to God that your third child would have at least some physical resemblance to you

your daughter was birthed, she grew up

and you cried

“HOW DO THEY ALL LOOK LIKE YOU”

“i’ve got some strong genetics, baby”

you sulk for a lil bit

but you accept it anyway because you love your goddamn kids

thankfully, your second and youngest child are both soft spoken and it's only your husband and his tiny clone bringing hell to earth

smacking sebastian bc all of your children suddenly started swearing up a storm at each other

“WHYD YOU HIT ME”

“YOURE THE ONLY ONE WHO SWEARS AROUND THE KIDS”

finally sitting down and trying to convince them to stop swearing

“father does it!”

“your father’s stupid”

speaking of your daughter

she’s his little princess and no he will not take criticism

spoils her more than he spoils you

did she glance at a toy at a passing store?

he buys more toys than he should from said store

you have to physically hide some of his money bc there is only so much you can buy

and her older brothers are so caring you want to sob

if a person accidentally shoved her over bc she was tiny and they couldn’t see her

oh boy

get ready to restrain them like chihuahuas

“little sister will be protected at all costs”

since his second son is so different from him, sebastian actively makes time to talk about what the little boy is doing and what he’s getting from it

doesn’t want to be pushy and suffocating like his dad was so when his younger kid does want to be left alone to his devices, sebastian does so

but honestly loves that your second son is so literate

lddhsajdsfk what yall dont know is that they’re all in cahoots

kinda funny to see them all together bc they all take after their father so much it's like having three tiny sebastians go around town

anyways,,,, yall know the promised neverland right

you got ray, norman, and emma

granted one of them wasn’t as smart as ray but he definitely knew what stealth was

regular sibling rivalry was still a thing but if they could smell the pudding from the kitchen, they know they have to work together

sebastian caught his eldest smuggling biscuits into a small bag

he had half a mind to scold him

but then he ended up giving tips TO ALL HIS CHILDREN on how not to get caught next time—

bc of this they beg him to tell them some stories from afghanistan bc “there’s no way a man as old as dad knows this many stealth tactics”

louis is so fed up lmao

albert is in london most of the time so he just thanks the lord that he doesn’t have to deal w the propaganda that sebastian feeds his children about how “mr. albert is a bad man”

william is fine w it as long as they don’t trash the library

your younger ones love the library so they would cry at the thought of one of the books losing any of the pages

your second and your daughter are definitely the moriartys’ favorites

they don’t show it, but you just KNOW

your eldest could care less about that though

as long as you and his father still love him

and of course you both do

and fred is definitely your youngers favorite

they like to hang out in the garden

ok they still fight all the time though

just because your second child is soft spoken doesn't mean he’s afraid to throw hands

their sister likes to join in for the hell of it

but if someone wrongs any of the children

just because the younger ones are the moriartys’ favorite, doesn’t mean that they’re not gonna hunt someone down if they even think about trying to hurt the eldest too

yeah,,, good luck to them and their families

they got the entire moriarty estate coming after them

fred: 241 words

cmon yall are like,, young

but you did ask him bc you were curious if he thought about it

he wants one

and when yall do have the kid, you guys actually do have one kid and its a girl

since you both are young, you can immediately see a resemblance between her and her father

everyone who meets her would die for her

ABSOLUTE CUTIE

especially when she walks around the garden w her hand in her dad’s and he’s showing her all the plants and telling her how to take care of them

needless to say she grows up loving plants

any type of plant

the boys love giving her flowers or anything from bc she has the biggest smile every single time

no matter if it’s just a single rose or a rock

this was found out one time when sebastian gave her a rock bc everyone else had given her like,, two roses each

was afraid she was gonna cry

“thank you so much mr. moran! i will treasure this until i get old!”

she was like 4 at the time

and had the widest smile you’ve ever seen on her

guys u don’t understand she smiles a lot but this was like,, genuine happiness

but everyone was just,, i will destroy the world and myself if anything happens to her

fr it’s just sunshines and rainbows every single time she’s around

everyone just loves her ok

moriarty the patriot general taglist: @zoehanji

#moriarty the patriot #moriarty the patriot x reader #yuukoku no moriarty #yuukoku no moriarty x reader #william james moriarty #william moriarty #william james moriarty x reader #william moriarty x reader #louis james moriarty #louis moriarty #louis james moriarty x reader #louis moriarty x reader #albert james moriarty #albert moriarty #albert james moriarty x reader #albert moriarty x reader #sebastian moran #sebastian moran x reader #fred porlock

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