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thebestandworstdayofjune · 6 months ago

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snapdragons mean i'm sorry

summary: you own a flower shop down the street from Wade and Althea, and now Logan's apartment. You and Logan had grown quite close, until you hear him complaining about you through the door. A week later, he shows up at the shop, groveling wc: 2.0 k a/n: sorry about the delay with this one, things have been a bit crazy! I really enjoyed writing for worst!Logan, I think I'm considering a part two for this as well. This fic is based on this request! warnings: lots of hurt and comfort, reader uses she/her pronouns, confused and groveling Logan, Wade being a meddler, slight spoilers for the end of Deadpool and Wolverine

You were two seconds away from chucking the bouquet that you were working on clear across the room. Instead, you gently set the flowers down on your workbench and tightened your pony tail. Heaving a sigh, you snatched the broom out of it’s place leaning up against the doorway and made you way to the front of store.

Usually, being surrounded by all of your flowers and specially curated knickknacks brought you a sense of peace. But so far today you’d broken two vases and stabbed your thumb on rose thorns maybe more than you’d ever done in your entire life.

Being friends with a superhero (singular) was much less stressful than you’d thought it would be. Wade would stop in to the shop around once a week to buy flowers for Vanessa, always with a quick joke or two before being on his way. It wasn’t until he’d saved you from an attempted mugging a few years back that you’d really become close. And you’d been there for a lot. Through his break up with Vanessa, when he was nonstop moaning about how deeply he hated selling lightly used cars, and whenever he needed a second opinion about a new hair system he was perched on a second stool that now had permanent residence behind the counter, right next to yours.

Being friends with superheroes (plural) was bringing a new host of issues. Namely, an accelerated heart rate and trouble forming your words in front of Wade’s new roommate. Wade had warned you that his new acquisition was prickly when he’d stopped over to invite you to the Welcome Home Pizza Party Palooza, according to the hand drawn invitation he’d proudly presented you. He’d lured you in with promises of meeting his new dog before dropping the bomb that there was an introduction to his roommate included in the package deal. You’d already agreed, and Wade was too busy rambling about how you were being moved up to from side character status for you to intercede with a made up reason you could no longer attend.

You historically didn’t do well with meeting new people, and someone who was likely to snap at you at some point throughout the evening, by Wade’s estimations, was an even bigger hurdle. Even though you had worked yourself up enough to feel slightly sick to your stomach, you’d arrived at the party, armed with flowers for the new roommate and a mini bouquet of dog treats for Mary Puppins. Wade and Al’s apartment was full of familiar faces when you’d arrived. You were caught up in a conversation with Peter and Yukio for a few minutes before they’d asked about the flowers all but forgotten in your hands. You admitted they were a welcome home present, and Peter kindly pointed out where Logan was standing across the room. You’d thanked him, and made your way across the room.

When you reached him in the kitchen, you stood quietly behind him, working up the courage to make your presence known. Ultimately, it was unnecessary, because he quickly turned around and greeted you with a crinkly-eyed smile that made your heart flutter against your better judgement. You’d shyly handed over the flowers, stuttering through the explanation of owning the shop down the street and apologizing preemptively if he didn’t like them, expecting a strong rebuttal. He certainly looked like the type of man to rebuff the offer of flowers in fear of appearing unmanly or some other nonsense. Instead, he took the flowers from you gently, thanking you. He turned away, searching through the cabinets before pulling out a novelty beer stein decorated with My Little Pony characters with a huff. Logan made quick work of depositing the bouquet in the beer stein, but he frowned at his work, clearly unhappy with the vase options. “So you’re the florist that he’s obsessed with.”

You smiled to yourself, glad to hear that Wade wasn’t only kind to your face. “Are you kidding me?” Speak of the devil. Wade slung an arm around your shoulders, depositing your typical drink of choice in your hand. “More like worship the ground you walk on. I may be Marvel Jesus but I’m your disciple. The things she can do with a chrysanthemum.” He moaned in a way you had never heard someone while talking about a flower, of all things.

Logan shook his head, but before either of you could respond, Wade noticed Vanessa coming through the door and was at her side in an instant. You’d stood with him in the kitchen for a few moments, silent but comfortable. It wasn’t long before Althea had called everyone to the table, where you took your usual seat next to Althea and Vanessa. The evening had been comfortable and you couldn’t help but notice how naturally Logan and his daughter Laura fit into your strange little family.

The next day, you’d stopped by their apartment armed with another bouquet, this one beautifully arranged in one of your favorite vases you kept in stock. You couldn’t shake the image of how disappointed Logan had looked with his options the previous night. Al had ushered you inside quickly, letting you know that the rest of the roommates had left her in the name of picking up some necessities for Logan. You’d dropped the vase on the kitchen counter, ruffled Mary Puppins’ hair and saw yourself out.

Logan had come by to thank you at the store, startling you where you were working in the back. You’d fumbled one of your vases, sending it crashing to the ground. Logan was quick to usher you onto a stool, locating a broom and making quick work of the glass. You’d insisted you could take care of it, but he’d shot your down insisting that he would heal right up if he managed to cut himself and he didn’t feel like a trip to the ER. It should have stung, but there was a lightness to his voice and a twinkle in his eyes that instead had you fighting down the hear rising to your cheeks.

After a few weeks, it was routine for you to stop by a couple nights a week after work, armed with a fresh set of flowers for the vase and some take out. Logan very well could have taken some home with him, as often as he was stopping by, but somehow you’d always get to talking and forget to bundle some up for him. He was immensely helpful around the shop, able to reach things on high shelves and move heavy pallets you would get in much more easily than you were able to. Wade’s stool had quickly become Logan’s but you didn’t much mind.

Your hand had settled on the doorknob to their apartment, when two familiar voices faded in through the closed door. It was instinct to pause, you hand’t really meant to snoop. But the words hurt all the same. “I really am fond of her, but she could really stand to let up on how often she’s hanging around me.” Your heart started to hammer, frozen in the hallway.

“I hear you peanut,” Wade was quick to respond. “Cling-ville USA, population her, amiright?”

“Fuck off, you’ve been obsessed with her as long as I’ve known you.” Your heart sunk. Isn’t that what Logan had said, the first night you met? Wade was obsessed with you? As quietly as you could, you dropped your hand from the doorknob and backed away down the hall, hoping that their conversation was loud enough to drown out the sound of your retreating footsteps. You’d retreated down the hallway, quickly shooting Wade a text that you weren’t feeling well and wouldn’t be able to make it.

You hadn’t seen them since. You knew it shouldn’t have mattered, but it stung. You’d moved their stool into the far back corner of the shop because as silly as it sounded, it made you sad to look at him. Thankfully, there had been a steady stream of customers to keep you busy for a while. But now, you were dead and your thoughts were drifting when the bell on the front door rang. You sent a silent thank you to the universe and rushed out to the front of the store. But the customer waiting for you was the only one you were reluctant to see.

You hated to admit it, but the image of Logan standing in the middle of your showroom, shoulders slumped and one of the most regretful looks you’d ever seen on anyone was almost enough for you to forgive him on sight. Close but no cigar, one could say.

“Hey, sweetheart” he said sheepishly, hands shoved into this pockets.

If this is how he was going to play it, so be it. “Hey, Lo. Where’ve you been?”

“Laura needed some help at the mansion, and they roped us into a mission. Meant to call but,” he shrugged, scratching the back of his neck. “Got a bit busy.” You nodded, doing your best to remember that you were mad at him. Stopped by for some flowers, if you have a minute.”

You nodded curtly, shocked that he wasn’t bringing up the obvious tension. He wasn’t one to beat around the bush. “What kind are you looking for?”

“Eh, whatever you think says ‘Sorry, I fucked up’ the best” he shrugged, making his way behind the counter.

“Who else did you piss off?” You asked, arranging a few more pieces of greenery into the bouquet he had requested. Even if you were frustrated and moody, you couldn’t bring yourself to make something you weren’t proud of.

“Where’s my seat sweetheart?” He asked, before taking a pause. “What do you mean who else?” He asked, cocking his head to the side.

“What do you mean ‘where’s my seat’?” You mocked, doing a poor imitation of his gruff voice.

“Okay, you’ve gotta catch me up here, sweetheart because I clearly missed something.”

“Wouldn’t wanna cling on too hard, are you sure you want me to do that?” You snarked, dropping the bouquet on the table and storming over to him, poking your finger into his chest. “I heard the both of you complaining about me last week.”

Logan’s hand wrapped around yours, drawing it closer to his chest. “I was coming in here to apologize for being gone for a week. But I’m happy to double the order to make up for the confusion. If my math is right, bub, you overheard me complaining about that fucking dog insisting on sleeping on my bed. Even after I told Wade to keep her out of my room.”

“You love her.”

“Yeah, you know me too well sweetheart.”

You smiled up at him, soaking in the warmth of having him this close, when something clicks in your head. “Are you telling me that you waltzed in here and asked me to make my own apology flowers?” If you hadn’t already decided he was off the hook, the way his mouth turned down into a little pout would have sealed the deal.

He hesitates for a few moments, eyes glancing around the shop seemingly in search of an answer. “Didn’t want to give the business to someone else.” He shrugged, bashfully.

Against your better judgement, a few giggles slipped past your lips, which had been firmly pressed together. A few more, and then you were laughing so hard you were having trouble breathing. You leaned your head against his chest, taking measured deep breaths to curve the laughter “I can’t believe this,” you gasped, wiping a few tears away that had spilled onto your cheeks. You grinned up at him through the tears, taking in the way his eyes warmed when he smiled.

“Could have been worse,” he shrugged, mischief making his eyes sparkle. “Could have gone with Wade’s suggestion.”

“I have to know.”

He slipped both his arms around you, pulling you in close. “Wanted me to jump out of a cake.”

You snuggled in close, leaning your head on his chest. “I would like to see it.”

“Then we’ll have to see what we can do about that.”

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snekdood · 2 years ago

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the problem with conservatives is they think you challenging their beliefs is somehow oppressing them

#this is why i dont think punishing them physically necessarily works. while its a short term solution in the long run- if they have a #victim complex- which most conservatives who aren't just purely evil politicians kinda have been conditioned to have- they're just gonna #dig their heels in and count that as part of their supposed 'oppression'#they think you challengeing their precious binary. etc. is somehow oppressing them bc you challenge everything they've known and #have now since kinda grown attached to and the only lense they've seen the world through since forever #basically rocking their foundation of how they see reality- and since conservatives are afraid of change (kinda in the name) rocking #what they know makes them think you're oppressing them by making them actually think and be critical baout what they know #its like they take it as a judgement also. idk. as if their way of life is bad (which it for the most part kinda is) and that we're somehow #punishing them for believing in that life. it really does boil down to fear of the unknown and a desire to cling on to whats familiar.#'how dare you question my status quo lifestyle! everythings fine!! i swear!! im totally not in denial about how shit things've become!!!'#'everythins worked for me so far!!' aka they havent died yet. and are ignoring that other people are. and think their depressing life #somehow has something to do with other average people who are what. wearing make up and feather boa's. gods greatest sin of course dfhbhg #rather than the ruling class reinforcing a system that oppresses them and sucks them dry of their labour.......#but its fine!! guys!! remember?? its familiar. and we havent died yet. so its fine. man my back hurts and i wish i could take a 3 day break #i think we gotta also acknowledge that they're probably victims of abuse (since most conservatives are abusive too and probably inhereted #that trait from their even more conservative parents) and as victims of abuse... they probably do the same thing plenty of us have done #before too- where we didn't think anything better was possible/we could escape/we deserved better so we stayed in shitty situations for #longer than we deserved. and had to just think of it all as. fine. we havent died yet. whoevers abusing us has spared us from death.#so its fine. better than death. i guess.#how bleak of a worldview.

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sthilarions · 2 months ago

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I love how effeminate Edwin is, so, so much. It’s such a fundamental part of him that he was killed for it. (Simon notwithstanding; Simon could have done nothing without the other boys, and they were pretty explicit in their motivations.) And that’s tragic, yes; but it’s also what got him out of the Edwardian era to somewhere (and someone) he can be fully himself without fear, where he can twirl and sway his hips and wear dresses and not only is he accepted for it - not only does he no longer have to fear violence or ostracization or prison for it - the person he loves makes those dresses to give him.

Crystal thinks (accurately) that he’s a bitchy old queen but the queen part is never what she takes issue with. Charles thinks he walks on water. Monty and the Cat King are unabashedly fascinated. Niko’s just curious when she asks if he’s always a woman, not a trace of judgement.

I just. I love Edwin’s effeminacy so much, and I love that, after so much time and pain, he got to find other people who love it, too. I love that he survived long enough to get to a time and a place and a people where he could be himself without fear and - even - with pride.

#edwin paine #edwin payne #dead boy detectives #mine

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kamisadopteddaughter · 5 months ago

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This match is gonna be six minutes with Judgment Day interferences and he's gonna lose because TJD fucking sucks ass.

Question for the five remaining Dominik Mysterio fans, are we back?

#im gonna kms #i fear i cannot take this storyline going any longer #dominik mysterio #the judgement day #the judgment day wwe

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agnireed · 1 month ago

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THINGS UNSAID

summary 🏹 others notice what you and daryl feel for eachother but it takes longer for the connection to reach the two of you.

word count 🏹 4.8k

warnings 🏹 large age gap, side character POVs at the start, smut lol

thanks to @irisdixon1023 for the fun idea! hope i did it justice even if i changed somethings

There were plenty of events that you had found yourself in the background of throughout the apocalypse.

You’d had to put things together at the drop of an eye because there were some questions you just didn’t ask. You didn’t need to be told the new man approaching camp was Carl’s father, evident enough by the way his mouth dropped open and Lori’s eyes flashed with hot fear and betrayal.

That unfolded in your mind exactly the same way as when you saw Shane come back from the woods with a busted nose and a manic look so intense it almost took your breath away, something cold and knowing settling in your gut but not quite strong enough for you to accuse him of planning anything.

You never put much thought into how you might come across to somebody just observing new people you’ve met on the road that might be making their own judgements on you. The end of the world had brought one relief and that was from the constant thought about your own presentation and what a stranger might think of you.

These already drawn conclusions were exactly the reason you were so confused with yourself for being so absorbed with why the red headed man kept glancing in your direction.

Truthly Abraham had never been somebody who bothered sugarcoating his words and pretending to be something he was not and that included being the type of person who was extremely curious about a certain dynamic he had seen unfolding in front of him.

He had only spent a few hours with you in the train car but he had managed to make a damn near solid case if he did say so himself and he was juggling with how much it was being challenged as soon as a few more bodies were thrown into the mix.

Both of you had looked worse for wear when his team found you alongside the gravely road, Glenn barely standing upright as they approached and then fully face planting the asphalt while you stared at him with a look that seemed to be a mixture of exhaustion and determination.

You kept your sentences short and sweet while Glenn was unconscious and you climbed into the back of the large truck but Abraham had a hard time being upset about your lack of manners considering you’d clearly been through hell's asshole before they had arrived.

His plans continued to be derailed and you proved to be a serious pain in the behind but he had felt strongly enough about his people reading to assume that you were one of two things, either just a bit slow emotionally or completely in love with the man you were traveling with.

Of course he felt only a bit disgruntled when said man actually woke up and spoke only of a loving wife that he clearly would stop at nothing to find in a very large haystack but then that could explain the heartbroken look you wouldn’t stop carrying around.

It made full sense to him that you were in love with a taken man and so desperately that you were willing to risk your life to help him be happy with somebody else so he was now fully offended when he offered this idea to Glenn one night after you’d fallen asleep, just for him to laugh in his face.

Then you had been thrown into the traincar and you suddenly took on a heavy expression of grief, like you had only just now accepted you were not going to find whatever it was that you were looking for. He had figured beforehand that you had lost someone permanently but apparently you had a mission of your own.

When the doors were opening again, this time he was happy to be an observer.

The two men entering the car looked equally as deadly as you had standing on that road side and ready to go to war for your friend's limp body and he almost pieced together they were a part of your larger group before any of you actually had turned to notice them.

Everybody tensed at the same time and then it felt like the air in the train car suddenly got much lighter.

You’d barely looked at the bearded man that seemed to automatically capture everybody's attention first, almost like they were waiting for him to give them a command before they even processed he was standing in front of them again.

Your eyes were stuck on someone else entirely and he was happy to finally have some entertainment after being sat next to a mumbling Eugene for far too many hours.

He didn’t need a lick of guessing to know what type of man the second was and he almost wanted to have his guard farther up if it wasn’t for the young boy beside him, peering around with big scared eyes. (Plus the fact he had come to respect you and the sight of you staring like the rugged man had hung the stars was good enough reason to relax).

The bearded man seemed to finally notice you standing there and he gave you an overwhelmingly fatherlike look, seeming like he wanted to pull you into a hug but deciding against it for reasons Abraham couldn’t quite figure out just yet.

His counterpart didn’t have the same problem and you let out a sob when he finally looked over to you, his entire tense frame melting like a little kid as he stumbled his way through the dark train car so he could fall against you.

You cradled his head like it was the single most important thing in the world and your friends around you seemed like they were suddenly walking on eggshells to avoid disturbing you and making you pull out of the emotional moment.

First assumption was that you were related in some way but that quickly faded when he noticed the way the man had his hands low on your back, squeezing and pulling you closer and closer like he could feel you slipping through his fingers.

There was nothing overtly romantic about it and certainly not sexual, not with the way you sobbed harder seeing his bruised face and sullen expression, but it definitely was too close for comfort if you were father and daughter adjacent.

Second assumption was gone as fast as it came, absolutely not lovers judging by the way you were quick to stumble out of his grasp as soon as you noticed Maggie and Glenn watching curiously, his hands lingering but eventually having to fall back to his side once you were out of reaching distance.

You made haste to hug the young boy and distract yourself from the blatant showcase of something that most likely was a secret, both to each other and the others but possibly to yourselves.

The man didn’t take his eyes off of you the entire time you all sat there devising a plan and you sobbed like a woman scorned when they were throwing flash bangs inside the car before dragging him away, having to send a swift kick to your ribs to get you to let go of his arm.

Abraham observed a scary switch in you now that he was gone again and the small almost fragile girl from before was once again replaced with the silent and constantly armed one, all emotions stripped down to your bare bones until you were left with instinct alone.

He kept watching your group during the days that followed the fall of Terminus, building up his strongly held opinions on each of them individually and then again in pairs and larger clumps. He couldn’t help the fact that you and Daryl struck his interest, boredom taking over for the most part although Rostia had told him he needed to get a better hobby.

It was impossible not to wonder now that he knew more about the two of you, although he’d yet to speak to your male counterpart. There was a large part of him that figured it wouldn’t end too pleasantly and he was halfway busy with sucking up to you all so you’d accompany him to the end of the line for Eugene and the cure.

So he didn’t pick a fight with the archer although he wasn’t sure you would have allowed it anyways.

You were small in size but he had managed to get a few glimpses of what you could do with rage and a blunt wooden stick alone back at Terminus so he wasn’t particularly interested in seeing how you fared with a knife

You were constantly next to Daryl and it was almost a foreign sight to see one of you without the other, a strange feeling settling over anyone whenever you’d wander in alone or the rare times he went hunting without you.

There was a glint in your eye whenever somebody talked to you, like you were ready to pounce on your own family members if you needed to just to keep the man next to you safe at all cost. He was halfway to asking Maggie if you had been like that before you were separated or if it was a new adjustment but he decided against it when he saw her fondly holding Rick’s baby.

He was finding it a bit ridiculous that there were so many moving parts in your poorly oiled machine yet it was running smoothly and, not only that, but you actually seemed to love and care about each other beyond means of survival.

Abraham decided it wasn’t any of his business anymore as soon as he ruled you and Daryl off the list of potential people who would come along on his mission, pushing you to the back of his mind to will off any distractions.

_____

Maggie had always known there was something lingering deep in you for the older man but she was quickly realizing she didn’t know the half of it apparently because the way you gripped onto him for dear life was extremely telling.

She was already surprised enough that you had practically leapt into his arms but what really struck her was how willing he was to fold over into you and meet your sobs with cries of his own.

She knew Daryl was more than what he looked like, more than what he even said most of the time but that still didn’t mean he was ever this open and vulnerable around any of them before. Even Rick sent her a thrown off look that she fought hard in the few seconds it lasted to try and understand.

Your mood had been sour for the time it took you all to find Terminus after reuniting her and Glenn but there were a thousand things she would’ve guessed as the cause of it before assuming you were mourning Daryl Dixon.

Maybe she had been blinded by her own worries and the blossoming of her love so she didn’t pay attention to the signs or maybe they were just new but they were impossible to ignore now although every one seemed to be trying their very best.

Did he always hand you your portion of food first, followed by sneaking bites of his own onto your plate when you both pretended you weren’t watching him do it?

Had it always been almost instinct that you would fall asleep next to each other, never touching but close enough to touch if you ever just reached out? She was thinking now that she wasn’t sure you slept the entire time you spent on the tracks, always awake on a watch shift when she drifted off and staring into the dying fire by the time she opened her eyes again.

Yet you seemed to have no problem drifting off with your head on Daryl’s shoulder.

When did Daryl stop flinching under your touch and since when were you so touchy anyways? Your hands were almost constantly rubbing up and down his arm or holding onto his wrist like you were stopping him from leaving except he didn’t seem to ever be going anywhere, not from you at least.

She wondered if you always looked so calm and gentle when peering up at him or if that was also a new development. She couldn’t read his gaze back down on you and she wasn’t really sure she wanted to, feeling guilty about her silent spying.

Glenn told her that it wasn’t a big deal and everybody people watched but he also denied seeing anything between the two of you so either he was lying to make her feel better or he simply wasn’t watching hard enough.

There wasn’t anything wrong with the age difference in her mind but she still occasionally caught Rick sending the two of you glances and she almost hoped it was just his fatherly urge to protect you like he always had.

_____

You could tell something had changed between you and Daryl but you weren’t too focused on defining whatever it was.

He had always been the number one person you paid attention to and you couldn’t stop thinking about him your entire stay at the prison but the pain of losing him and thinking it was for forever was clearly the push you needed to never let him forget this again, even though you hadn’t told him directly.

There was no way he didn’t know how you felt when you stared into his eyes and kept your hand on his chest, whispering lowly how happy you were for him to be back with you. He would have to truly be the dimmest person in the world to think your reaction to seeing him again was just a fluke or you not thinking straight.

Daryl must be aware of how you feel because you don’t think he would risk treating you the way he did if he didn’t.

He was sweet to you and doted on you like you were already lovers and his favoritism was apparent to anybody who paid attention for more than a few minutes. He remained as gruff and abrasive as always but he let you brush the hair from his face and his tone sounded far sweeter aimed towards you.

You knew he had feelings for you and you also knew he wouldn’t let you in on that secret unless he suspected you felt similarly.

“Couldn’t even breathe.” You had found yourself outside the stuffy church together again, somewhere just off in the treeline and leaning against a thick tree stump.

His back was pressed into the bark but your own was against his chest, sat on the drying leaves between his spread legs and laying back on him, his hands resting skillfully next to your thighs so he wasn’t touching you too directly.

“Hm?” His hum was low and sweet and you noted that he sounded like he was drifting off to sleep, a light smile on your face at his abandoned defensive walls even though the topic of conversation was rather heavy.

“I pictured them all going one way or another but not you, never ever you.” You picked one of his hands off the ground so you could hold it in your own, resting in the air above your stomach as you smoothed over his rough calloused skin and traced shapes on his palm.

He said nothing when you sighed and relaxed your limbs again, this time with his hand landing on your stomach and being enclosed by yours so he couldn’t remove it so easily. You could feel his heartbeat pick up on your back and your mouth turned up with fondness.

You didn’t need him to remind you for the hundredth time that he hadn’t gone anywhere and he was still right here with you but it was still nice to hear him grumble it in his low voice, almost a shy whisper that you had to preen to hear.

Daryl may have needed to actually feel the effect of your death before he started to slowly showcase his affectionate side but you thought it was well worth the wait, feeling beyond grateful that he hadn’t pulled away from your clinginess yet.

You figured it would just be a few days of needing him close to process that he wasn’t gone after first losing him in the smoke of the prison and then watching him get ripped away in a similar fog as soon as you had him back finally but days turned into weeks and you were still trying to find a way to silence the ache.

His heart was only picking up in speed when you were using your hand to move his slowly, so slow you could barely tell it was going anywhere at all. You pushed it until his pinky finger was under the button of your small jean shorts and you paused when you heard his breath stutter.

Part of you wanted to turn back and check his expression, make sure this was something that he wanted but you couldn’t gather the courage. Instead you sat there with your hands like that and you felt a jolt of electricity when he was moving his hand on his own.

You didn’t let it get far, barely brushing the hem of your underwear before you were swiftly sitting up in a way that clearly startled him.

He didn’t have long to overthink and wonder if he had misread the situation because now you were on your knees in between his spread legs, as close as you could get and swaying forward like you were going to lay on his chest again.

The reality was much different than he expected and lifetimes better, your lips slotting against his and automatically drawing a high pitched sound from you. There had been countless times Daryl wondered what you sounded like and the knowledge was seering itself into his brain now, longing to bring more out of you.

Your hands were on his face and you were scrambling forward so you could be sat in his lap, legs on either side of his waist as you desperately leaned into the kiss. He was easily matching your pace and you felt an overwhelming heat when you heard him groan into your mouth.

“Daryl.” The sound of his name in that tone was enough to make anybody insane and his hands on your body proved it, one hand on your lower back but the other directly touching those godforsaken jean shorts you wore.

They were poor excuses for fabric and there had been a dozen times when you'd bent over in front of him long enough for him to catch a glimpse of your panties underneath, long enough for him to run a hand over his face and disappear into the guard tower for a few hours.

Now there was no reason to pretend he wasn’t looking at you, wasn’t running his rough hands over your perfectly smooth and innocent body. That seemed to be the only innocent thing about you considering your hips were starting to rock in his lap, just slow enough to make his head spin dangerously.

His big hands were both cupping your ass now and helping you move against him, loving the way you could barely kiss him as you struggled to hold your whines in.

“Feels so good.” You sounded absolutely pathetic and wrecked and he knew right then and there that he was truly perverted, grunting into your open mouth and thrusting his hips up to make you really feel him against your sensitive core. One of your hands had been running through his hair and you tugged at the feeling, crying out in surprise.

“Cmon sweetheart.” His voice was so low and raspy, vibrations going straight to your core and making you rock harder against him.

Your lips were swollen and wet when you moved them from his mouth down to his jaw, sucking and biting the skin wherever you could and making sure he was grunting straight into your ear so you could commit the sounds to memory.

He barely flinched when you sat up to pull your tank top off, a bit too hasty considering it was getting stuck on your arms for a second and he had to help you, eyes hazy when your head finally emerged and he could really look at you.

You felt touched that he watched your eyes for a few heavy breaths before he even bothered to let his gaze move down to your bare chest, rising and falling with your nipples standing at attention off his stare alone. His hands weren't wasting any time before gently cupping your soft mounds and your mouth parted in another high whine at the feeling.

Hips moving slower but still just as addicting, you were letting him worship your tits and really take his time memorizing the way your body looked on top of his like this.

Daryl had pictured you in a hundred scenarios that brought shame to his core and sometimes the disgust was enough to bury it back down but more often than not, he couldn’t stop thinking about how much he wanted this no matter how wrong it may be.

“No idea how much I thought about these hands.” Your voice was the highest pitch he’d ever heard and you were softly stuttering through your words like you’d forgotten where to place them, hand back in his hair and trying to be sly with the way you were moving his head downwards. “This mouth.. f-fuck.”

He may not be the most experienced, certainly not with girls as young and pretty as you but Daryl wasn’t as idiot. It was almost second nature to wrap his mouth around your nipple once he understood that’s what you were silently asking for, his entire arm wrapping around your back to keep you locked in place.

His muscles flexed when you made an extra loud sound and you suddenly remembered just how strong he really was, capable of really doing some damage to you right now if he decided that’s what he wanted. The thought sent heat further through you and you gasped out his name in repeated cries.

You were fully humping against him now and trying to get as much pressure on your core as you could but he was firm in his hold on your middle, practically making out with your tits in a way that was so lewd and filthy you felt lightheaded.

“I need more.” You were desperate now and on the verge of a sob, yanking on his hair impatiently and immediately diving into a nasty kiss the second he lifted his head to glare at you. Your tongue was so deep in his mouth he was able to fully suck on it, low sounds leaving him constantly now.

You hadn’t even realized you were falling until you hit the ground with his heavy frame falling over you, spreading your legs so he could slot himself between them easily.

“F-fuck you’re so hard.” You knew you sounded beyond fucked out already just from some dirty kissing but you couldn’t find it in yourself to be embarrassed. Although you clearly didn’t need to considering you weren’t at all exaggerating and Daryl was fully hard and moving his core against yours like he couldn’t stop himself.

“Pretty little thing.” His lack of vocalization didn’t bother you, not expecting it from him in the first place but you were almost grateful for his silence because it made every word he did say sound so much sweeter.

Daryl had never complimented you so directly before and it sounded ridiculous to flush over him calling you pretty while you were laying in the leaves, bare chest out and his hard on rubbing against you but it still made your body warm in a much purer heat than the rest of your body.

He did everything in his life with an aged roughness you had realized a long time ago, hands weapons even when he didn’t mean for them to be and even when it ate him up inside afterwards so you felt particularly touched that he had a gentle grasp on your ribs and hip like he was terrified of hurting you.

Although the thought of him hurting you did light something deep inside of you on fire but you decided to push that away and deal with it another time, slowing down your kisses once he started to fidget with the button and zipper on your shorts.

It was quick to go from dirty to romantic and you were grateful for the change even though you enjoyed the former just as much, the longing in your heart for a real sign that he felt similarly being slightly fulfilled when he was moving a hand to cup your cheek and really pay attention to the softer kiss.

You could tell he found amusement in his own patience bringing forth the opposite in you, a whiny annoyed noise leaving you as you started to tug at his belt impatiently and try to get him to resume what he was doing before you distracted him.

“Take it easy girl.” He was so close and the whispered words, light and affectionate enough that you almost forgot how lewd you were currently, made your eyes widened as you stared up at him hovering over you.

He made eye contact with you for only a brief second before he was looking away and you could see a heavy shyness in him that was directly opposite to the way he was pulling your shorts down your thighs and touching you before you’d even felt the wet air on your core.

Your breath caught in your throat and you wrapped your hands around his back, resting on his shoulder blades and you knew his vest would have the shape of your fingernails indented in the leather for a long time to come.

The low humming noise he was making against your neck seemed to be approval towards your neverending wetness and you were letting out a breathy laugh of pure hazy disbelief when you felt the head of his hard cock pressing against you.

You could hear him softly shushing you in a soothing manner, trying to get you to relax enough that he could actually push inside without seriously hurting you. You wondered if he could tell you had never done this before, suddenly self conscious that your inexperience was radiating off of you.

Unknown to you, he was thinking the same thing about himself and hoping you couldn’t feel the way his entire body was tensing to stop from pushing in before you were ready out of pure desperation that only you could bring out of him. It was hard not to act like a horny teenager when you were panting like you were getting fucked hard just from him touching your tits.

The combination was deadly and the sound he made when he started to actually fuck you was even worse, damn near ending your life then and there just to be immediately brought back when you felt the hot pain between your legs.

Now your pants were telling a different story and he did his best to slow down and let you get used to the sheer size of him stretching you out, not realizing the way your pupils were dilating and you were purposefully tightening your legs around his waist.

“M-more.” You were begging now as the pain started to go down and he gave you a look that told you he thought you were crazy, eyebrows furrowed as he started to shake his head in disagreement. “Please Daryl love it so much, hurts so good.”

That seemed to silence both the man above you and the entire forest, his body stiffening for a few seconds too long and your heart started to race with something not as nice as the flirty nervousness you normally felt around him.

You almost opened your mouth to apologize to him for making him uncomfortable, try to explain yourself and why you liked something like that without actually knowing the reason yourself. Instead your lips parted with another high whine when he started to move, clearly getting over whatever had made him pause and making it his personal mission to give you exactly what you wanted.

Daryl would never leave your sight again and you would stop at nothing to make sure of that so you had plenty of time for gentle, endless days to fill with romance and soft kisses that made your cheeks red. Today, however, was going to be reserved for something else entirely and you could’ve truly died happy there on the leaves with him on top of you.

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon smut #the walking dead #twd #twd fanfiction #norman reedus #daryl dixon drabbles #daryl dixon fluff #rick grimes

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alastorss · 1 year ago

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⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

You've never seen Alastor sleep before.

He's always lurking around in shadows—here and there and everywhere at once. But you hardly see him and his toothy grin past his working hours.

Yet here he is, head down on the table. The usual crackling static noise that follows him wherever he goes is missing, making the room eerily quiet. It's so horribly silent that you can hear the faintest shaking of the porcelain cup against the plate.

You'd only meant to bring him a coffee. You didn't mean to intrude on his break.

You're part way through deciding if you should turn and escape while you can—god knows what would happen if he found out you were staring at him while he slept. Maybe he would laugh it off and reassure you with that malicious undertone of his, or maybe he would kill you where you stand. You could never tell with him exactly what he was thinking.

"Well, are you just going to stare at me?"

You freeze, porcelain clinking together as you jolt in your spot.

"I brought you a coffee," you manage to stammer out, placing it down beside his head which is still buried in his arms. "Charlie said you might need one."

Static fills the room again as he opens his mouth, your hairs pricking up and standing on end. "How kind of you," he hums, sounding entirely uninterested.

Finally, he raises his head to look at you. He seems bleary still—completely unlike his normal sharp self. The demon tries to blink the sleep from his eyes, but to your annoyance still has that shit-eating grin plastered ear-to-ear.

Against your better judgement, you ask him: "Are you okay? You seem—"

"Tired. I know," Alastor interrupts, eyes narrowing at your inquisition. "You have nothing to worry about, my dear."

You blink at him a few times, watching as his smile slowly shrinks the longer you remain quiet. He hates this, feeling seen and being fretted over. Loathes it more than anything in Hell.

And, well. He was having quite a nice nap until you woke him up with that incessant shaking. Was he really that terrifying even in such a docile state?

He can feel his smile fading faster and faster, hopes dashed of having the chance to fall asleep again lest he end up vulnerable with you knowing he was unguarded. How terrible.

Only one solution, then.

"Why don't you join me for a siesta?"

You gawk at him, looking absolutely bewildered. "Y-You— huh?"

It would put him at ease to know you were asleep before he is; that you aren't poking your nose around in business you shouldn't be. He could keep you asleep with white noise for as long as he pleased.

"Come, sit."

Alastor kicks the chair opposite of him out from the desk, urging you to take a seat across from him. Hesitantly, you do. It fills him with deep satisfaction that you're trembling as you do, probably only obeying him out of fear.

You're quite amusing, really. Charming in a cute way. You were so forgettable when Charlie decided to take you in, but perhaps he should play with you a little.

He has found this place boring lately. You'd be an excellent way to solve all his problems with that nervous, flustered look on your face.

Alastor's smile bounces back to full size, fangs flashy and alluring as he grins at you.

"Go on," he chuckles, voice breaking with static. "I won't bite."

Oh dear. What have you gotten yourself into?

#hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor x reader #alastor #hazbin hotel fanfiction #alastor fanfiction #alastor fanfic #hazbin hotel fanfic #hazbin x reader #radio demon #faye's thoughts — ☁

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greedyhoneyz · 8 months ago

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Judgement Day

.ೃ࿔* pairing: armando aretas x reader .ೃ࿔* synopsis: the aretas name carried weight in miami. it was a name which symbolised power and carried a notion of fear. to mess with an aretas, was a call to an early death. .ೃ࿔* wc: 3k words. .ೃ࿔* cw: angst. assault. violence. blood. harrassment. threats. .ೃ࿔* authors note: another fanfic for a piece of media i have yet to watch. this is long but i hope it doesn't come off juvenile.

The hot Miami heat bared the warmth of a deep-emotion smile at dawn but as night fell, it raged into an inferno, chaotic and wild. It charred and blistered the abode floor, once chilled by seasonal rains and engulfed the city with a tragic blaze.

Even in the heatwave, Miami bustled with life, men and women toiled across the dancefloor, their bodies weary and scorched beneath yards of thin fabric. They jived and boogied to the setlist with as much passion as their drunken states could emote and drank to their hearts' content. At the end of the night, they busted through the doors into the artificial glow of street lamps, staggering, failing to hail an Uber or move on to the next attraction. In the charcoal night, Miami Beach weaved together crowds of partygoers and workers alike, as the early morning sunshine threatened to peek through the sky.

(name) hissed and hollered her way out of the nightclub as her heels clicked onto the pavement.

She had worn them for the sake of fashion. The open-toed stilettos were to die for; they matched perfectly with her mini dress and petite shoulder bag. But now as she waddled, her feet were paying the price. The four-inch stilettos were not meant for walking, the leather straps dug into her skin and the arch pinned tiny knives into her feet. Each step she took sent a shockwave of pain through her feet.

Adjusting her stride, (name) attempted to distribute her weight more evenly into the shoe. It made little difference but she would make it work– the night was young and she had a couple more hours in her.

Straightening her shoulders, (name) fixed her bag and quickened her pace, walking in conjunction with her friend.

“Where are we going?” She had spoken out between anxious breaths, inwardly wincing at the pressure dented into her toes.

“Um…..” Kayla stared into her phone. “Nightingale, Candace said she’ll meet us there.”

“How far is it?”

“Just a couple blocks down. We’ve been there before, remember?”

“I do,” (name) huffed. “It's just– my feet are killing me. I don’t know how much longer I can take this Kayla. I’m tired.”

Kayla stopped, causing (name) to falter in haste as she slowly turned. She faced her friend, boring her eyes into hers, her lips forming into a hard line. She gripped her friend’s arm, holstering her close and darted her pointer finger to her.

“You,” She began slowly, her voice was low at first but grew louder and more boisterous as she glared into (name). “Are not going anyway, do you understand? Today is our night, our night to go out, get drunk and do something stupid, okay? No shoe and no bitch is ruining our night, comprende?”

“Sí. Sí. I understand.” (name) replied shortly, hiding a smile between her teeth.

“Good.” Kayla nodded, tucking her arm around (name’s).

The pair beelined across the strip, accustoming themselves amongst the crowds of partygoers pulling and pushing their way across South Beach. They found Candace waiting by the entrance, looking radiant in a yellow, mini-dress, her wind-tousled hair fell over her shoulders.

“Hey!” She exclaimed, giving them each a hug. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

The bouncer let them in without hesitation, ushering the trio past the long, ascending line trickling across the street, and they made their way towards the bar. The music blared and pulsated from wall to wall and the stage lights flared and spun above them.

“So….where’s this boyfriend of yours at?” Candace asked inquisitively, sipping on her margarita. She wriggled her eyebrows playfully and passed a simple glance at (name’s) phone as she placed it on the bar, a picture of her boyfriend printed on her lock screen.

“Somewhere,” (name) shrugged. “He wasn’t home when I left for Kayla’s place.”

“So you snuck out?” Kayla jeered, propping her chin atop her hand. “You never told me that.”

(name) shook her head. “Nah, it's nothing like that–”

“Wait— this means you can stay out!” Candace bellowed happily.

“Of course I can–”

“No more talking, let’s dance!”

Candace shot up from her seat, slamming her drink on the bar counter, and reigned her hands around Kayla and (name). She wrung them out from their seats with the strength of a colossal giant and tugged the two towards the dancefloor, declaring the two move to the rhythm of the song.

It took a while – a couple of short seconds before Kayla and (name) joined Candace in dance. The three danced in conjunction with each other, keeping close to their circle with a light bounce from side to side and trigger fingers.

As the night wore on, the air grew thicker and (name) and her friends were tipsier. The club music had grown louder and more intense as the DJ turned to play Sexyy Red and the crowd had begun to surge forward in retort to the sharp change in tempo and pitch. The crowd was like a tide, rolling in and out, its rhythm intermittent to the beat.

No more did the throbbing of her feet cloud (name’s) mind; the blend of a rhubarb fizz and vitality was a deterrent. With her closest friends surrounding her, (name) felt at ease, her smile so wide and bright, that she feared it would become permanent.

She rocked her hips, her hands travelling across her thighs and slowly craned forward. She held onto her legs, shaking her thighs as motion rippled across her calves and ascended towards her ass. (name) shook her bottom with a smize, moving her cheeks with such fluid, curvaceous motions it left nothing to disguise that the skirt of her dress began to hike. Undaunted, she continued to move, placing a careful hand between her cheeks as the other tugged her dress down.

So young and so free, (name) craned herself upwards and placed her hands against her chest. She bopped from side to side, twirling her hips gingerly and scored her hands across her breasts and middle. She looked heavenward at the ceiling, the club roof clouded by bright, neon lights and flashes, she squeezed her eyes shut in retort. She dropped her head and opened her eyes, bouncing on the balls of her feet before letting out a raring shrill.

The night flew by in a blur of music, laughter and good company. And by 2 am, the club slowed and the crowd began to disperse. Exhausted but exhilarated, they left the club and amidst themselves between the sea of bodies flooding out from the club.

Letting out a refreshed sigh, (name) turned to her friends. Her hair was dampened, her hot-rod curls once full of life and shine, had dropped, now frizzy and weightless. The fabric of her dress had clung to her sticky skin and her bag was hung at the edge of her shoulder.

“I’m so lit right now,” she moaned, closing her eyes. She wobbled on her two feet, swaying from side to side, pressing her weight onto one shoe and when she threatened to stumble to the side, hauling her weight onto the other.

“Me too,” Kayla replied, stumbling over Candace. She clung onto the woman, grasping onto her dress and pressed herself against the wall.

“I….I think–” Candace couldn't help but giggle to herself, dropping her head.

(name) smacked her lips, her eyes slowly peeling open and peered at the two women. She swallowed deeply, curling her lips in practice before she spoke. “You girls….wanna head off to Oasis?”

“Yeah.”

Both Kayla and Candace hummed in agreement and staggered to height. They adjusted themselves, sheepishly picking at each other, one fixing the other’s hair and the other fixing her dress as (name) collected her belongings into her bag.

“Aye!” A voice began. It was deep and hoarse, breathy as his mouth approached a few more words. “Aye miss!”

Though inebriated, (name) couldn’t mask her quickening discomfort as his heavy footsteps rattled behind her.

She tensed, hiking her shoulders and carefully turned. She wore a tight smile on her face, a mask of politeness.

“Yes?”

The man was tall, handsome, and smelt good. And yet, he failed to strike (name). As she stood before him, swaying from left to right, he grinned, bewitched by her charming features and supple figure.

He smiled at her, his eyes never leaving hers. “I just wanted to tell you that you looked good.”

(name) shook her head and waved her hand, feigning appreciation. “Thank you.”

“You know, I was watching you, inside, dancin’ and shit,” He laughed, tossing his head back. “You can shake that ass pretty good.”

“Thank you–”

“And I– lemme get your number.” His words were quick and sharp; his intent was clear.

“Oh,” she tittered, throwing a glance at her friends. “Well…I’m sorry but I’ve got a boyfriend–”

“You’ve got a boyfriend….” He repeated sullenly. He laughed heartily as if (name) had said the funniest thing ever and shook his head.

“Listen,” He began, swiping his tongue across his bottom lip. “I know it doesn’t seem like it, but I promise you I ain’t no weirdo. No bear here.”

Kayla was prompt in grabbing (name’s) hand, making no effort to hide her disgust. She moved from behind her, Candace following in tow, and attempted to pull the girl along. “C’mon (name) let's go.”

Like a colossal giant, both the man and his voice grew towers tall. He gripped (name’s) arm and jerked her back. “Aye, I wasn’t done talkin’!”

(name) yelped, stumbling over her feet and sharply jeered her head at the man. “What the fuck are you doing?!”

“Just give me your number.” He demanded, digging his nails into her skin.

(name) profusely shook her head, quickly sobering up and attempted to pull away. “Let go!”

No more did the nice guy act continue, the man once cheerful and hopeful, sneered at (name), puffing out her chest and flaring his nostrils. He was quick to insult her, hurling a hail of curses aimed at her figure as he fiercely yanked her backwards, swinging her frame towards him.

“Fucking bitch!” He cursed at the top of his lungs, splatters of spit flailing out from his mouth. “You bitches are always too full of yourselves! Wanna act all uppity when a man wants to talk to you!”

“Then fucking let me go! The fuck!” By then, amidst the chaos, a crowd had gathered. Like a mob of meerkats, they gawked, gasped and videoed in disbelief at the rage pelting from the colossal of a man. They watched, uttering words of discomfort and dismay as (name) attempted to rear herself away from the man, thrusting herself against Kayla as she pulled her forward.

“I didn't even want to holler at your ugly ass anyways!” He roared, his voice loud and menacing.

“Oh my fucking god! Let me go! I don’t want to fucking talk to your stupid ass!” (name) shrieked back. Her eyebrows furrowed together and her lips pulled into an irritated scowl.

“Nah you fucking listen to me, bitch!” His voice erupted out from the vessels of his throat like a disgorging volcano, propelling a warcry in the wake of a lava-filled avalanche, in the form of a fist.

In a few short seconds, the colossal revolved free his arm, balling his into a fist and drew it back. He reigned his fists forward, fuelled with fury and humiliation, and swung at (name), striking her in the jaw.

She staggered to her floor with a loud yelp, the contents of her purse pooling across the floor. Both Kayla and Candace circled (name) in protest, pulling into their embrace as the colossal hovered above, jeering.

Candace gasped, her eyes were wide, her mouth agape as she held (name’s) face between her palms. “(name)!” She cried, fretting her fingers across her face. “Are you okay?”

Sore but unharmed, (name) could manage a nod, nursing a hand to her swelling jaw. “I’m…I’m okay.”

Candace shot her head up and leered up at the colossal begrudgingly, shrieking. “What the fuck is wrong with you?!”

Rapidly, she climbed onto her feet, jumping between the colossal and her friend’s dazed figure, and glowering, waving her pointer finger and screeching like a banshee. “Do you like putting your hands on fucking defenceless women?! Huh! Do you think that’s okay?!”

“Aye, shut the fuck up! That bitch got what she fucking deserved—”

The neigh of engines and the screeching of hot tyres hailed across the strip, and the sound had bequeathed a play of silence across the beach.

The once vivacious party strip, nestled with drunk partygoers and deafening music, had quickly shimmered into silence. And all that sounded was the row of heavy footsteps mounting from the street onto the sidewalk. The footsteps marched into the crowd, dispersing the tide and began to section off each corner one by one as the clatter of a single pair of boots trotted forward.

Armando stared at (name), his face firm, and carefully crouched to his knees. It was a while before he spoke, his voice deep and guttural, his eyes boring into hers. “Are you okay?” Slowly, he brought his hands to her face and brushed his thumb against her jaw, the surface of her wound spreading purple with yellow blotches, and when she cowered back his expression darkened.

(name) could only utter a wary whisper, her eyes darting between him and the colossal behind him. “…yes.”

Inhaling deeply, Armando rose to height, hauling his girlfriend up to her feet. He held her hand in his, offering a forgiving glance and turned.

He clambered away from (name), his shoulders taunt and chin heavenward. Armando was angry– enraged. He did a good job of hiding it, but (name) knew the signs.

He wired his neck, rearing it from side to side and heaved slowly, his chest rising and falling. Every muscle on his face tightened, his eyes narrowed, and his chin jutted outward.

He approached the colossal, his arms pinned behind his back and gave him a once-over, sizing him up.

He blinked, parting his lips slowly, and then blinked again. “Do we have a problem?”

The colossal shook his head and feigned a hearty laugh, his pupils flared and mouth twisted. “Nah man, we’re cool–”

“Let me ask you again,” Armando snarled slowly, gritting his teeth together. “Do we have a problem?”

“Listen, man, I can assure you there’s no problem here–”

Armando sucked at the air like it had suddenly become thick and shut his eyes. He’d become deaf to his galling words, his rapid chatter professing a tale of ignorance and regard, a rapid back-tracking to his previously tough stance. And by then, his anger was irreversible.

He lunged at him; pummelling, hitting. Each hit landed with a sickening thud, the blow between skin and fist astounding. The man had swung back, wailing his fists in the air, but succumbed to the force of Armando’s blows. His movements were swift and silent, spectral. The pivot of his feet from place to place was incorporeal. He was impenetrable evading each wild blow before he swung again.

Armando flitted around the man, his movements a blur of speed and precision and winded his knee upwards. It prodded into his middle, driving into his chest, and sent him stumbling backwards, off-balance. His tumble left an opening, a gap between his face and Armando’s revolving leg.

He took the opening, rearing his leg upwards and swung it forward, striking. A rapid combination of punches and kicks followed, each came and landed with more precision and power till the colossal succumbed to near-coming death. He crumbled to the ground, in a grotesque mess of blood. His eyes were swollen over and bloody spit drooled from his slack jaws. He was now as revolting as he should be, finally, the outside reflected the spoiled man within.

Armando stood victorious over the bloody mess that was his adversary and sneered at him with such venom and disdain. He crouched down, his knuckles wounded with welts and stained with blood, not of his own, and grabbed his shirt, his grip like a vice.

He pulled him towards him, his face taut with rage and displeasure, and glowered over him. Under his grip, the man hung like cattle, his limbs astray as blood sputtered from out his mouth.

Armando rubbed his lips, swivelling on the balls of his feet, and gnashed his teeth together, chiding grimly. “You see..” he shook his head, his nostrils flared. “If it wasn’t for her…”

He turned to (name), lugging the man along and pointed. He leaned into his ear, his voice began small as a whisper and bubbled into a rue of senile and ghastly distaste. “…I’d kill you….”

“Consider this a warning–” Armando released his grip, the man flailing back onto the ground, and stood back on his feet. “You fuck with her, you fuck with me.”

He scowled, whipping his hands and leered at the crowd before him. In a stop-start fashion, one by one, the crowd fizzled out in groups of threes, fours, and fives. Song and chatter fizzled back across the strip in small bites and vivid hues flashed across the beach.

Armando turned to (name), his face closed up and extended his arm. He reached for her, placing her hand in his palm and grasped it tenderly. He held her hand to her face and wrapped her wound beneath her hand. He looked at her as her gaze trembled, her shoulders shivering and tugged her towards him. He held her in his arms, his tight embrace swelled around her middle and carefully coaxed (name) away.

Despite the return of vibrance and euphoria flooding across the party strip, an unsettling mist hung over. A monochrome of silver glanced over the black night. There was an uncharacteristically grim line etched across the faces of those among the dispersing crowd, a sense of sadness, remorse, dismay and dread.

Armando Aretas was not to be toyed with— and neither was she.

#black!reader #bad boys ride or die #bad boys for life #armando aretas x reader #armando aretas imagine #armando aretas fanfic #armando lowrey x reader #armando aretas lowrey x reader #jacob scipio

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ramblings-of-a-chaotic-neutral · 5 months ago

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Hello again everyone! Thank you all so much for the overwhelming support for the last part of the "Merlin accidentally conquers Camelot" au! I've had so much fun writing this au, and I'm so glad that you've all enjoyed it too! This will probably be the final part of this au (for now), since I have more au ideas to share with you all, but I'll probably revisit this au some day! For now, I'm approaching two pretty big tumblr milestones, so I'm working on an extra-special au to post in celebration of those (and I won't give anything away, but I think that this new au may be my best one yet, so stay tuned)!

Also, warning, this one is a long post! Be prepared!

Now, onto part four of this au! You can find part one here, part two here, and part three here!

As it turned out, planning a royal wedding was no easy feat.

Merlin had thought that simply adding a quick and (hopefully) painless wedding ceremony at the end of his coronation would make everything go smoothly. After all, the castle would already be decorated, they'd already have all of the important lords in attendance, and everything needed for a consort's coronation ceremony would already be there.

However, when Merlin announced to the lords and the steward in charge of preparing his coronation ceremony that he'd also need a quick wedding and coronation to take Arthur as his consort, they reacted with so much shock and horror that Merlin thought for a second that he'd accidentally announced that he was ordering their executions instead. The only person in the council room who didn't look like death itself had just appeared before him was Gwaine, who took advantage of he shocked silence following Merlin's proclamation to start laughing so uncontrollably that he doubled over and had to grab the wall for support.

Merlin had expected some shock and pushback from the council at his decision, not... this. All of the lords on the council had gone as pale as parchment, some trembling in their seats with fear. What on earth...

"Sire," the ever-unflappable Geoffrey called out, jolting Merlin from his confusion at the state of terror that had gripped the other council members, "while such a marriage would not be unlawful, it would certainly be unprecedented. I'm not questioning your judgement, I know that establishing yourself as a strong ruler this early in your reign is paramount, but are you sure that this is the best way to go about it? I'm certain that the citizens of Camelot will accept you as their rightful ruler as soon as they witness their true power for themselves, so taking the former king as your war prize isn't entirely necessary to show your dominance over the land."

The lords grew several shades paler at Geoffrey's words, and the trembling councilman sitting next to Geoffrey leaned in to fearfully hiss something into the librarian's ear. Merlin watched with growing confusion as Geoffrey's eyes went wide at whatever had just been whispered to him, and he rushed to speak once more.

"Of course, if this decision was made as some form of revenge or humiliation towards the Pendragon line, that is well within your right as a conqueror, Your Majesty. We would simply advise you to take the disgraced king as a concubine, perhaps, instead of your official consort. As a ruler, you must now also consider the issue of one day producing legitimate heirs, which can only be borne to you through your consort."

Merlin blinked, desperately trying to follow whatever logic Geoffrey was using. Take Arthur as a concubine?! Had the old man gone insane?! And Merlin certainly wasn't concerned about heirs, since if he got his way, then his reign wouldn't last longer than this week!

Still, with most of the council looking like they were being plagued by waking nightmares, they weren't likely to listen to Merlin's very reasonable objections to being king in the first place, so Merlin just had to get them off his back until the wedding.

After a deep sigh, which made most of the council members flinch back with a still confusing amount of fear, Merlin addressed Geoffrey's concerns.

"Thank you for your input, but I'm afraid that my decision has already been made on this... issue. I will be taking Arthur as my consort at my coronation, and my decision is final. And don't concern yourself with the topic of heirs, that will be sorted out shortly."

Several lords choked on the air at Merlin's last comment, with a couple outright fainting at his words. Merlin's brows furrowed even more with befuddlement. What... what had he said that garnered such a reaction?! He was just telling them not to worry about it!

(Meanwhile, unbeknownst to Merlin, the lords had a very different idea of what their new king- a powerful, brutal warlord and sorcerer- had planned. They interpreted Merlin's intent to marry Arthur as an act of revenge against the son of the man who killed off so many of his people during the purge. It apparently wasn't enough for the mighty Emrys to defeat his enemy and leave him with nothing to his name. No, this ruthless new king of theirs planned on forcing the former king into a life of humiliation and servitude in the court that was once his own. To a king, that must be a fate worse than death.

These lords, who were some of the most active and complicit members of Uther's purge, looked at the punishment that Emrys had planned for Arthur and thought if that's what happened to the king, what's he going to do to us?!)

The days went by quickly after that meeting, with Merlin's time being filled with a never-ending list of his new duties and things that needed to be done before his coronation, not to mention organizing the coronation itself and the subsequent wedding (which Arthur didn't know about yet, as Merlin had been deliberately avoiding the dungeons after his last conversation with Arthur).

It took the better part of a week for everything to finally be prepared for the official coronation ceremony. The ceremony itself would consist of Merlin being crowned in front of the court (a nauseating thought for Merlin himself), the vassal lords and knights willing to swear fealty to him taking the oath of loyalty, and finally Arthur being handfasted to Merlin and crowned consort.

Merlin was, for once, thankful for the amount of work that he had to do over the days leading up to the ceremony, as it kept his mind busy and his thoughts away from the pit of self-loathing that had taken up permanent residence in his head. After all, what kind of friend stole everything from the person they love the most in the world and then turns around and forces that same friend (and unrequited crush) to marry them?!

Merlin had attempted to rationalize his selfish decision to keep Arthur in the dark regarding his plan to reinstate him as king by telling himself that if Arthur didn't know about the wedding until the last minute, then he would spend less time worrying about it in the long run after he was king again! Besides, if Merlin's plan worked, they would only be married for a day or two, so there was no reason to get Arthur worked up over that by telling him earlier!

Truly, Merlin was not being a complete scumbag by doing this, he was just looking out for his friend's best interests and mental wellbeing! This would all blow over in a a matter of days anyways, Merlin was certain of it.

Still, Merlin found himself anxious and pacing the floor of his room on the morning of the ceremony. He had sent a team of servants and guards to retrieve Arthur from his cell and prepare him for the ceremony, so he likely wouldn't see Arthur until he was brought into the great hall for the handfasting ceremony. However, he still worried over Arthur's reaction when he learned what exactly when was being prepared for.

This worry lingered in Merlin's mind and consumed his thoughts throughout the entire day and into the coronation ceremony, so much so that his own coronation seemed like a blur to him. One moment he was standing in the great hall in front of the assembled crowd of lords and knights, and in the next, he was sitting on Arthur's throne with Arthur's crown on his head, with the crowd shouting "long live the king".

The sound of it almost made Merlin sick. Those words should never be directed at him, but he'd make this right soon enough. He just had to suffer through this ceremony to appease those disloyal lords who had turned their backs on their true king.

Perhaps the worst part of the coronation itself was the ceremony in which the lords and knights willing to pledge their fealty to him took an oath declaring such. It was no surprise to Merlin to see those weasels on the council of lords pledging themselves to save their own skin, but the knights who showed up to pledge their fealty were... very unexpected.

Look, Merlin had assumed that it would just be Gwaine and a small handful of guards and younger knights that he had roped into his mischievous scheme swearing loyalty so him. All of the other knights with their wits intact would surely still be down in the cells of the dungeon, holding true to their prior oaths of loyalty and keeping their true king company.

What Merlin did not expect, however, was for nearly a quarter of all of Camelot's knights to take a knee before him and pledge their loyalty, led by a highly amused Gwaine, who was no doubt enjoying every minute of this. Merlin quickly scanned the crowd of knights, trying to take count of who all had turned their backs on Arthur and could no longer be trusted.

Gwaine, of course, came at no surprise. Many of those assembled were commoner knights whom Arthur had taken in, including Percival, but the giant regularly got pulled into Gwaine's nonsense, so this wasn't truly that much of a shock if Merlin thought about it. There were a fair number of noble-born knights in the crowd, including all of those whom Merlin had noted had a softer outlook on magic. And then, of course, there were a decent number of pompous, high-born knights who had never given a lick about magic or loyalty, they just wanted to preserve their own wealth and power no matter the cost.

Merlin narrowed his eyes at the cluster of those knights. All the rest had logical reasons to side with Merlin, between Gwaine's persuasiveness, solidarity between the lower class, or a connection or sympathy towards magic, so they would be allowed to stay in court after Arthur had retaken his rightful throne. But these knights? These cowardly snakes had to be dealt with at the first opportunity. But how could he get rid of them without people becoming suspicious?

... Wait a minute, Merlin was king now! He might only have that title for a day or so, but in that time, he could certainly use it! (And he absolutely was not using this as a tactic to prolong this part of the ceremony so that he had a few more minutes of peace before the wedding began.)

Right, but how was he going to play this? He couldn't exactly just announce that he wanted those knights to leave because he wanted them gone before Arthur took over again.

Merlin narrowed his eyes at the group of treacherous knights and noted how they squirmed a bit under his gaze, with even some of the people around them shuddering. Right, he looked like a ruthless and powerful sorcerer to them now. He could use that to his advantage.

As the knights finished reciting their oaths, Merlin held up his hand, signaling for them to stay in place. The knights did so, but a confused and concerned murmuring started buzzing around at this strange departure from the normal ceremony. Slowly, Merlin lifted his hand and pointed at the assembled group of knights in the back.

"You lot. In the back."

The murmuring died down the instant Merlin opened his mouth and was instead replaced by an oppressive dread weighing down the ornately decorated hall. If Merlin wasn't trying so hard to keep a straight, intimidating face, he would have winced at causing such a wave of fear with nothing more than a few words.

Hesitantly, one of the called out knights stepped forward, addressing their new king.

"Yes, your majesty? Is there something you require of us?"

Merlin held back the urge to smirk as an idea, and a very satisfying one at that, formed in his head. He quietly cleared his throat and put on his most imperious "Emrys" voice that he could muster.

"I can sense insincerity in your hearts with my magic. Just as you abandoned the previous king, you would also turn your backs on me at the first opportunity to do so. Do not even attempt to deny it, you know just as well as I do that this true. I cannot trust any such men as knights of mine."

The group of knights went pale as Merlin called them out for their flimsy loyalty, and at once whispers began fly in the crowd. Perhaps they were intrigued by this show of his "powers"? Were they scandalized by this public shaming of a group of high-ranking knights?

Either way, the knights immediately began groveling, begging Merlin to let them keep their positions, their wealth, their power, but Merlin dismissed them with a wave of a hand and publicly revoked their knighthoods. The murmuring of the remaining people in the great hall grew louder as the disgraced former knights made their way out of the hall, no doubt intimidated and scandalized by how quickly their new ruler was purging his court of the disloyal.

However, with the loyal knights having taken their oaths and the untrustworthy ones having been cast out, the coronation ceremony was now officially complete, meaning that Merlin could no longer stall what would come next.

Merlin sat still on his stolen throne, trying his best not to fidget with nervousness as Geoffrey gave some traditional speech that had to be done before the doors of the great hall opened to let consort walk down the aisle to the throne.

After a couple minutes, Geoffrey's monotonous voice became nothing but a buzzing in Merlin's ears as he stared at the doors of the hall, desperately trying to imagine any scenario where those doors wouldn't open to an Arthur who was filled with nothing but rage and betrayal.

All too soon, Geoffrey's droning speech ended, and the trumpets in the hall announced the arrival of the soon-to-be-consort and signaled for everyone of lower rank to stand. Merlin's heart leapt to his throat as he jumped to his feet, even though he was the only person in the room who didn't need to. Ever so slowly, the doors to the hall swung open, revealing... Arthur.

Merlin damn near choked on his own saliva at the sight of him. He had seen Arthur in a wide range of states over the years as his manservant, ranging anywhere from sleep-rumbled to solemnly prepared for battle. But this... he had never seen anything like it.

Merlin couldn't decide if whoever had been in charge of dressing Arthur and preparing him for the ceremony ought to either be promoted to Arthur's personal tailor or immediately banished. In place of Arthur's usual surcoat and chainmail for official ceremonies, which was what Merlin had foolishly assumed the servants would dress Arthur in, there was... a monstrosity that would haunt Merlin's dreams for the rest of his life.

Merlin didn't even know how to begin to describe it. The garment that the servants had no doubt forced Arthur into, as Merlin knew that he would never wear such a thing of his own accord, was somewhere between a set of intricately intertwined robes and a dress, which hugged Arthur's shoulders, upper arms, and thighs, highlighting the muscles there. Most of the outfit appeared to be made out of a rich velvet, dyed in a majestic royal blue that both looked entirely out of place on Arthur and brought out his eyes like nothing Merlin had ever seen before. And dear gods, was that lace on there?! And why the hell did the outfit need elbow-length lace gloves?!

(The servants who had been in charge of dressing Arthur for the ceremony had assumed that their brutal new warlord would probably want his war prize to look as far from a warrior as possible, in order to further prove that he had beaten the previous rulers. So, they selected a delicate and elegant outfit for Arthur in the hopes of appeasing their new king.)

Merlin swallowed dryly as Arthur slowly began making his way down the aisle with measured footsteps. The movement snapped Merlin out of whatever temporary madness the outfit had sent him spiraling into, and Merlin finally locked eyes with Arthur.

Merlin winced at the sheer amount of rage that Arthur managed to fit into one glare as he took another step towards the throne that was rightfully his. Merlin tried to give Arthur his most reassuring smile, but he was almost certain it only came across as a nervous grimace.

Just go along with this, Merlin tried to beg of Arthur with only his eyes. Their bond had always been one that allowed them to communicate without words, and Merlin prayed that their connection would hold strong once more and get his message across to Arthur.

Neither Arthur's impressive glare nor his furious scowl let up though, but he kept his pace towards the throne steady, which Merlin decided to take as a good sign. After all, if Arthur truly did not any merit to this impromptu plan, why would he still be walking of his own accord towards the altar?

Still, as Arthur grew closer and closer to the altar prepared for the handfasting, his eyes became darker with rage as Merlin winced. Yes, this would certainly be harder than it needed to be, but this had to be done to get Arthur back on the throne! Surely Arthur would understand that!

After what must have been an eternity, Arthur finally reached the altar and, ever so slowly, walked around to stand at a fidgeting Merlin's side.

As Geoffrey began yet another speech that had to be done before the handfasting took place, Merlin quietly turned to Arthur and gave him a small smile, trying to a least let Arthur know that everything was alright, that everything would turn out fine.

That little smile, it seemed, turned out to be the final straw for Arthur. Merlin wasn't even entirely sure how it happened.

One moment, he was standing next to Arthur in front of the altar, with the only sound in the room being Geoffrey's boring voice. And in the next, there was a savage war cry coming from Arthur, who was now armed with a sword, and a decent amount of screaming coming from the crowd.

It spoke volumes about Merlin's state of mind that his first thought upon seeing Arthur run at him with a blade in hand wasn't get back, dodge! but was rather that dress is tight, where on earth did he hide that sword?

However, Merlin's sense of self-preservation wasn't nearly as terrible as Gaius accused it of being, as his second thought was I should probably try to avoid getting stabbed at my own wedding.

Reluctantly, Merlin gathered his magic, ready to disarm Arthur and hold him still if need be. Arthur could stab Merlin later if he really felt like it, but Merlin needed to at least officially make Arthur his consort and heir before Arthur did that!

However, to Merlin's surprise, rather than trying to run Merlin through, Arthur instead stabbed at the wooden handfasting altar, sinking his blade deep into it. Merlin carefully kept his eyes on Arthur as the other man viciously pulled off one of the dainty lace gloves and threw it on the ground at Merlin's feet.

Dumbfounded, Merlin stared at the thrown glove on the floor and then looked back up to stare at Arthur, not quite getting what Arthur was trying to tell him here. Did he just really hate the outfit? Or was it this whole marriage plan that he objected to?

"Pick it up."

"Huh?"

Arthur nearly started growling, his rage apparently rising with Merlin's confusion.

"It may not be a proper gauntlet, since you have denied me such a dignity, but it will suffice for this. Pick it up, King Emrys. I challenge you to a duel in single combat for the throne of Camelot. You may have defeated my sister, but you did not defeat me! I am no prize for you to claim!"

Merlin simply blinked, completely thrown off by this turn of events, while loud shouts started erupting from the crowd. By the time his mind caught up to what Arthur had said, Arthur had taken up his sword from where he had struck it into the altar and was pointing it threateningly at Merlin again.

As Merlin's shock wore off and he finally understood what exactly Arthur had just done, he had to fight back the urge to scream into the sky with frustration as yet another one of his plans to reinstate Arthur as king had just been ruined by the obstinate clotpole himself. Couldn't the prat just let Merlin help?!

With his frustration rising, Merlin glared down at the thrown glove. While a duel would certainly allow Arthur to retake the throne, Merlin wasn't entirely sure how his magic would react to such a fight. Merlin would never consciously hurt Arthur of course, but who knows if his magic would strike out in self-defense?!

And, besides, formally accepting and preparing the duel would take days. And, in Merlin's opinion, this whole farce has gone on for long enough.

"No. I will not accept your challenge."

Arthur's face went red with anger at Merlin's refusal.

"You are just as much of a coward as the rest of your kind, sorcerer! You would not even grant me the opportunity to take back what's mine!"

Merlin bit back a frustrated scream at that. Arthur would be getting his throne back if he just followed through with any of Merlin's plans instead of ruining threm!

Merlin took a deep breath and sighed on the exhale, trying the rein in his own anger. He just needed to go through with this ceremony, and then everything would be fine.

With a quick flash of gold in his eyes, which had Arthur flinching back (and didn't that just sting?), Merlin turned Arthur's blade into dust had Arthur's glove fly back onto his hand, setting everything right as it had been before Arthur had pulled out a sword and all hell had broken loose.

"That's enough! I've been trying to restore you to your rightful position as king this entire time, and yet you push back at every opportunity! I am not about to let you sabotage your own destiny! So, here's what's going to happen!"

Distantly, Merlin heard the wind outside whipping around, like his own frustration and stirred nature itself into a frenzy.

"You are going to stand here, complete this ceremony, be named my heir, and then retake your throne when I abdicate! Are we clear?"

Arthur, who still looked rather shaken at Merlin's display of magic, scowled, but still nodded his head. Merlin, satisfied by this, turned back around to face the shocked crowd.

"And do I make myself clear to all of you?! There will be no more interruptions of this ceremony, and Arthur will take back his throne!"

The frightened crowd went silent at Merlin's outburst, seemingly relenting to Merlin's demands.

Merlin then turned to Geoffrey, who was still standing in front of the handfasting altar with the rope in his hands.

"Now, Geoffrey, I would greatly appreciate it if you would get a move on here. I don't want to wear this stupid crown for any longer than I have to."

The only indication that Geoffrey gave that he was surprised by Merlin's outburst was a mere uptake of his eyebrows, rather reminiscent of Gaius's signature look. Without further ado, Geoffrey tied Merlin and Arthur's hands together, declaring them to be now married in the eyes of the gods of the Old Religion.

(Merlin tried to ignore the hurt and longing that built up in his heart in that moment. How many times had he dreamed of something like this? But he never wanted it to happen like this. This was Merlin's dream come true, but it was all wrong. In that moment, Merlin didn't dare look at Arthur, too afraid of what his dearest friend thought about this grievous overstep of boundaries.)

Immediately after Geoffrey untied the handfasting knot, Arthur's coronation as consort began. The ceremony itself went smoothly, but Merlin's heart broke both at the sight of Arthur kneeling before him, waiting to be crowned, and at the furious glare Arthur gave him as he gently put the consort's crown upon Arthur's head, officially naming Arthur as his heir.

As soon as Arthur stood from where he was kneeling, applause broke out from the crowd. Someone (Merlin heavily suspected Gwaine) started a chant of "long live the kings!", which caught on quickly. Merlin winced again at the chant, not daring to turn and look at Arthur's face.

Still, Merlin reminded himself as he took a deep, calming breath, everything was coming along. Arthur was now officially his consort and heir, and all that was left to do... was the copious amounts of paperwork finalizing his abdication.

Yeah, no. Merlin wasn't going through that process when he could just take care of it here and now.

"Citizens of Camelot, on this most joyous day, I, King Emrys, abdicate the throne!"

Even though he had made his intentions clear only a few minutes earlier, shocked whispers flew around the crowd, like they hadn't truly believed that he would go through with it.

Merlin couldn't help the grin that was forming on his face. Finally, everything would be set right again!

"I am no longer your king, and as per the laws of the kingdom, the throne now rightfully belongs to your true king, Arthur Pendragon!"

With that, Merlin reached up and yanked the crown off of his own head, marched over to a dumbfounded Arthur and, without any hesitation, replaced the consort's crown on Arthur's head with the true crown.

"There, that's much better," Merlin whispered to himself as he gazed upon Arthur, finally looking like himself again, but he was certain that Arthur must have heard it too, as Arthur's eyes went wide at his words.

But that was a conversation for another day, as Merlin was now done here. This entire calamity was over, and now Merlin was going to savor its end.

Merlin turned back to face the crowd once more with an undoubtedly crazed grin.

"Goodnight everyone! Be sure to obey your true king! In the meanwhile, I'm off to bed for my first full night's rest since this nightmare started!"

And with that, Merlin merrily skipped out of the great hall, made his way to his cramped room in Gaius's chambers, and slept soundly.

Bonus Scene!

THE NEXT DAY:

Arthur: Busts into Merlin's room

Merlin, unwillingly woken up from the best sleep he's gotten in years: Ugh, what do you want you prat?! You're king again, aren't you?! Don't you have kingly duty to be attending to?

Arthur: Merlin you idiot, you abdicated the throne.

Merlin: Yes, and now you're king again. You're welcome!

Arthur: But you never dissolved our union!

Merlin: Huh?

Arthur: A divorce can only be granted by the same ruler who authorized the marriage! You know what this means, right?!

Merlin: Yeah, that you can just declare us to be not married anymore and we can all be on our way.

Arthur: No, YOU were the ruler who authorized the marriage, and now that you've abdicated, you can't dissolve the marriage! Legally, no one can!

Merlin, turning pale: What?

Arthur, looking weary: Yes, apparently it's some legal technicality that Geoffrey cited from Bruta's code. I've spent all morning arguing with him, but there seems to be no way around it.

Merlin: So... what you're saying is that we're stuck being married to each other.

Arthur: Yes, you buffoon, that's exactly what I'm saying! Now, get up!

Merlin, feeling incredibly guilty over this entire situation: Arthur, I'm so sorry, I take full responsibility for this, I never should have forced you into-

Arthur, cutting him off: Let's go. We don't have much time before the rest of the castle is up and about, and I'd rather us not be seen here.

Merlin, confused but complying: Arthur, where are we going? Why don't you want us to be seen here?

Arthur, blushing: It would reflect poorly on the king if word got out that he let his consort sleep in this dirty broom closet on their wedding night, wouldn't it?

Merlin, blushing: Ah, I suppose it would.

And that's a wrap for this au for now! I hope you've all enjoyed this story!

A huge thank you for everyone who asked for this continuation! (and holy cow there were a lot of you!! Thank you all so much!)

@magic-mushroomss @miyriu @whole-buncha-snakess @achillesuwu @aerismoon

@tidalwavesandthunderstorms @marki9 @isaidno @retro-wallflower @samwinjester

@lascienzadellafantasia @sugar-coated-prat-dragon @theoldfroglady @ryeallytired @mind-of-a-crow

@whynotreinventmyselfeveryday @likeapaperplane @odinjm @orliththedragon @aglmry

@caraspud @aostrek-236 @justaz @slippysalt @coffee-shop-gay

@the-king-and-the-druidess @theroundbartable @fanfic-library-for-me @linotheghost @scuttlingsleipnir

@guiltyscarlet @cinnabon-sweetroll-tiramisu @247merthur @veryroadpartystatesman-blog @verxen

@lascienzadellafantasia @jareicanon @arrowlovesdragons @juliairian @thesuperstitiousoldelf

@lovermyme @bootprivileges @rem-the-moth @hippielittlemetalhead @ole-to-you-nonetheless

@lordmushroomkat @starchaos01 @reynaharmonia @anastasia0614 @starlight-crow

@wheneverfeasible @savlikesbluengreen @fuckingdeadinsidetm @notquitehumanwrites @purplesandwichtiger

@rocks-d-xerxes @olli-is-a-fish @luluzealand2565 @dangerhumming @tireddruid

@spiralingtowardtheabyss @mundaneone @anxiousdragoncollector @catface233 @bennedict

@elementalpirate4 @bertolio @vadis-protenus @chaosofbelievers @floating-on-avalon

@merthurogies @justaz

And, as always, thank you all for reading through my ramblings! :D

I'll see you all next time!

#merlin #bbc merlin #merlin bbc #arthur pendragon #merlin au #merthur #merlin prompts #king merlin

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guiltyasdave · 9 months ago

Text

just close your eyes

chapter 3 • series masterlist

pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

summary: An injured Joel and Ellie stumble into your home in the middle of the night. Against your better judgement, you decide to help them.

word count: ~2.2k

tags/warnings: post outbreak, slow burn, found family, age gap (sorry not sorry), able-bodied reader, angst, reader has a sad sad backstory and ptsd, hurt/comfort, fluff, eventual smut, vague description of an injury, implied death of a character, the angst is ANGSTING in this one

a/n: once again, i can't thank that jackson joel pedro photo enough for the inspiration that it's brought me. i hurt my own feelings with this chapter, and truth be told, it's gonna get worse from here.

follow @guiltyasdavenotifs for fic updates and find my full masterlist here :)

dividers as always by the lovely @saradika-graphics 🤍

Over the following days, something of a routine forms between the three of you.

Joel spends most of his time resting, asleep more often than not, the shape of him on your couch a picture that you grow familiar with. But as his fever goes down and the skin around his injury is less red than when you first laid eyes on it, you allow yourself the tentative hope that you might have been able to actually save him.

You’re becoming less skittish around him, getting used to his rather gruff demeanor, slowly realizing that what Ellie said was indeed true, it’s not about you. You come to think he just doesn’t like needing and accepting help.

Ellie follows you around like a puppy, eager to soak up every scrap of knowledge that you can share with her. It’s not much, you think, mostly cooking, the task of turning supplies into various meals, given the limited resources that you have in this world. You like having her around, the almost constant stream of chatter and questions never annoying you.

It fills your usual silence, helps keeping you grounded in the present. Most of the time.

Now that you have company, it becomes painfully obvious to you how much time you spend in your head, just sitting and staring straight ahead, lost in your thoughts, oblivious to the time passing. You have taken to having a book open in your lap, to make it seem like you’re reading, but you find yourself looking down at the page without seeing it, not sure when you last turned it.

It’s not what they would have wanted, you keep telling yourself, trying to shake yourself out of it. Well, it’s not like anything happened the way we wanted, the bitter voice in your head answers.

If Ellie or Joel notice, they don’t ask about it. You hear their voices in the night sometimes, both of them sleeping in your parents’ bedroom now, since the couch was starting to hurt Joel’s back.

You don’t lock your door anymore, leaving it ajar, just like them. The thought of someone else being down here with you is soothing you, the fear of them being a possible threat basically nonexistent at this point. Instead, a different kind of fear sets in.

They haven’t talked about where they are going, but you know that they’re not gonna stay forever. Once Joel is completely healed, and winter has given way to spring, they’ll most likely be off again, leaving you on your own again. You don’t want to grow attached, but it’s difficult not to, while being with other constantly.

You and Joel are taking longer to warm up to each other than you and Ellie have, but you’ve gotten used to having him around you. It’s a quiet, but trustworthy, reassuring thing, his presence in your space. Now that he’s healing, he’s someone who you trust to take responsibility, to take care of things if needed. You’re not sure how you know, but you’re certain that he is.

One evening, Ellie finds the DVD collection that’s stashed away in the cabinet under the small TV in the corner of the room. You hadn’t watched anything in forever, not sure if it’s even still working, but her enthusiasm makes it impossible to turn her down.

Even Joel pipes up at the prospect of a movie night, crouching down next to her to sift through the DVDs. They’re both drawn to the shitty action movies – usually not your preferred taste, but you find the corners of your mouth lifting when they both turn around simultaneously, looking for your approval of their choice.

Joel pushes himself back up with a grunt, pressing the button on the TV and making it spring to life without issue. You settle deeper into the couch cushions, pulling a knitted blanket over yourself as you watch the opening credits play.

It’s so comfortable, so normal, and you want to get lost in the feeling in a way that makes your heart ache. Ellie sits down beside you to share the blanket while Joel stretches his legs out on the other couch. A smile is tugging at his lips when he catches you looking at him, but it can’t hide the wariness in his eyes, mirroring your own. It’s the feeling of things being too good to be true, the fear of nothing good ever lasting, of the world crashing down around you again, that always accompanies you, and without asking, you know that he feels it too. You cast your eyes back to the screen, trying hard not to get yourself lost in the fear, but to enjoy the moments of peace while they last.

Ellie loves the movie, her eyes wide at every action-packed sequence, gasping at every explosion. At one of the more absurd scenes, you can’t contain the burst of laughter that bubbles up your throat. You’re unexpectedly joined by the deeper rumble of Joel’s, a sound that you haven’t heard before.

You glance at him, to find his eyes already on you, an emotion in them that you can’t place. Neither of you say a word, both quietly returning your eyes to the TV.

When you’re lying in bed later that night, you still feel the smile on your face.

While your closeness with Ellie came quickly, almost taking you by storm, it’s a quiet, slowly growing thing with Joel.

It begins with him lingering in the kitchen when you’re preparing the morning coffee, asking you questions about the place, about keeping supplies, electricity, the safety measures. He helps you with cooking, grumbling about giving something back when you protest.

He’s gruff, no comparison to Ellie’s lively chatter and endless questions, and it makes you nervous at first. But you get used to him, his more quiet demeanor, his dry humor. You can tell that he’s trying hard not to scare you again, avoiding sudden movements or getting loud, and while you appreciate it, you also can’t help but wonder how broken you must seem from the outside.

He doesn’t ask prying questions about your past, how you’ve come to live here all alone, though you have to imagine that he’s curious. You don’t ask him about his either, even if you do wonder how he and Ellie ended up together. It’s a quiet mutual understanding and you’re grateful for it.

You have to believe that he had his fair share of loss in his own life, that the both of them had; an inescapable reality at this point in the world’s history.

It’s like a silent camaraderie when he catches your eye as Ellie is reading out puns to the both of you once more, rolls his eyes in a way that still holds so much love for the girl next to you, but that fills you with the urge to giggle. It stops you in your tracks the first time it happens, the sensation so unfamiliar to you that you can’t place it for a second.

When you smile at him, the corners of his mouth rise ever so slightly as well, before he huffs an exaggerated sigh at the joke that you just heard. It riles Ellie up, just like he wanted to, you suspect. But you block out her bickering at him, busy with your own thoughts. One thought in particular, one that you haven’t had about anyone since you were a teenager.

Joel is kind of pretty when he smiles.

The both of them have also taken to working their way through the bookshelf that’s taking up most of one of the walls. It’s mostly guidebooks on hunting, gardening, self defense, anything that your father deemed possibly useful. Over time, you had added books from your old bedroom, the one upstairs, that you had hastily carried down the stairs, hoping for the familiar words to give you a sense of normalcy in a world where nothing was normal anymore.

Joel sometimes talks to you about them, asking your opinion on which ones to read, discussing their contents with you. Over time, you realize that he does it when you’re zoning out, pulling you back into reality with the drawl of his low voice next to you. You’re thankful for it, not used to being cared for like this, but also mortified that as it seems, he does notice when you’re too deep inside your head.

It’s one of those afternoons, you’re just about to start preparing dinner, when Ellie asks if you have more books somewhere, about something cool. “Like what?” you reply, an easy smile on your face.

“I don’t know,” she shrugs, “like comics, maybe? Ohh, or something about space?”

It takes a moment before the words register, before they form a picture in your mind, the memory of exactly what she’s asking for. You stop in your tracks, frozen on your way to the kitchen. Your toes dig into the carpet beneath your bare feet. A faint trembling starts in your hands and slowly spreads through your body.

Ellie says your name, an edge in her voice. You’re not sure what your face looks like.

Your wide eyes find hers, looking up at you from where she was spread out on the floor, her hair splaying out over the scratchy rug, one of your books held over her head. You had joked about how that position couldn’t be comfortable a few minutes ago.

You see Joel from the corner of your eye, slowly raising to his feet from the couch cushions. It feels like you can’t breathe, like you’re sucking in air but it doesn’t reach your lungs.

A large, warm hand lands on your shoulder, making you jump. Joel rubs soothing circles over your back, your name a low rumble on his lips.

“It’s– it’s not a problem if not,” Ellie murmurs, sitting up slowly, her eyes flicking between you and Joel, uncertainty written over her features.

You force a shuddering breath in, using the sensation of Joel’s hand splayed over your back to ground yourself. Nodding your head, you will your voice to travel up your throat.

“Yeah no, I– just a second.”

Joel repeats your name, more questioning this time, but you ignore it, feet carrying you into the bathroom where you quickly shut the door behind you. Skin stretching over your knuckles, you stand over the sink, gripping its edges to stay upright.

It’s what he would have wanted. He would have been so happy to share them. It’s true, you know what.

You’re not sure what’s worse. Going in there yourself, crossing the threshold of a room that you haven’t entered in years, haven’t even opened the door to, or letting someone else do it, let them disturb the memory of a reality that you’ve tried to preserve in there. Too painful to touch, but too important to let go of.

Steeling yourself, you return to the living area. Ellie and Joel are sitting close to each other, both of their heads flying up at the door opening. It’s obvious that they have been talking about you. You bite your lip.

Ellie rises to her feet slowly, takes a tentative step toward you. “Listen, it’s not that important really–” She sounds like she’s talking to a skittish animal.

You shake your head, not trusting your voice not to betray you. With a deep breath, you cross the room to the door beside yours. One of two that you keep firmly closed.

It creaks on its hinges when you open it slowly, your hand shaking on the handle. You try not to look around, to keep your eyes closed to the truth that nothing changed in here, and yet everything changed. It’s stuffy, stagnant air that’s been untouched for too long, but it smells like him. Like he’s still here with you.

You don’t see the unmade bed, still carrying the trace of the last time he got up, the stuffed lion beside the pillow. Don’t see the half finished drawings on the desk, or the mess of action figures in the corner. You grab the stack of comics from the nightstand, ignoring the way your vision blurs at the edges. Move on to the shelf, smaller than the one in the living room, blindly picking out random books.

When you step out of the bedroom, quickly pulling the door shut behind you again, neither Joel or Ellie have moved. You can’t meet either one’s gaze, don’t want to see the expression in their eyes.

Ellie takes the stack of books from your outstretched hands, murmuring a thanks, and you sense that there are more words on the tip of her tongue. Questions, apologies, you don’t know and you don’t want to.

Turning on your heels, you escape into your own room, closing the door as quickly as you can before you collapse on your bed. Tears flood your eyes in time with the memories flooding your head, threatening to pull you under and drown you under their waves.

You hear their muffled voices through the door, but neither of them comes to disturb you. You’re thankful for it, not needing anyone to witness you in this state. Eventually, you drift off into sleep, your mind gladly giving way to unconsciousness.

The following night is the first time that Joel has to shake you awake from a nightmare.

thank you for reading 🤍 if you liked this, please consider reblogging, leaving a comment or sending an ask, it truly makes my day every single time!

#pedro pascal #joel miller x reader #joel miller #the last of us #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #pedrostories #janas fics #fic: safe and sound

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dblk-archives · 6 months ago

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Castle of glass.

Summary: diaboys reacting to you fainting on them. Headcanons.

Characters: Kou Mukami, Subaru Sakamaki, Azusa Mukami, gn! reader.

Tags/warnings: fainting, blood sucking, mentions of blood and knifes, a usual day in dialovers.

Something with my three fav boys... I might write more if you guys like it ♡

❀ Kou Mukami.

- At first he’d tease you, say something like “eeh my M-neko-chan has finally fallen for me I see!”

- That is until he notices how the vitality seems to drain from your expression. Your eyes seem glazed over, your body is limp, not in the way it is when you and him share sweet dreams in the comfort of his room.

- No reaction follows his usual teasing either, not your cute pouts or bashful glances when he managed to fluster you.

- There is clearly something wrong with you.

- And for an instant, he doesn’t know what to do.

- He stays there, kneeling besides your still body, his smile wiped from his face for once.

- He is very worried and low key panics for a second. There is so much he wanted to still show you, so many gifts he wants to still get for you, what if…

- No, he cannot let thoughts such as this to cloud his better judgement.

- Probably tries to ask his siblings for help (thankfully he doesn't take Azusa’s suggestion to stab you to see if you’ll react).

- With all the ruckus around you, your eyes begin to stir. Your sight is still unfocused, and yet those eyes of his his, like the bluest sky, somehow give you the strength to fight the dizziness away.

- “Kou-kun…” he hears the weak call of his name, and within seconds he is pulling you close to his chest, his forehead against yours to make sure you are here with him.

- “Stay with me…” a barely there utterance of your name leaves his perfect lips, not the nickname he often used, but your name, reserved often only for the intimacy shared in the privacy of his or your bed.

- Afterwards, he is totally giving you the princess treatment.

- You are always there for him when nightmares shatter his sleep in fragments of a painful past. He has to give back all the kindness and love you showered him in every time.

- Kou will bring you your favorite snack, even try to make it himself, despite the result maybe not being perfect (please accept it, he put so much effort into it!).

- If you’d rather cuddle, he’ll hold you all night, in the same way you did when the phantom of his scars still ached; he’ll sing to you, lyrics only you get to hear, the affection in his voice rivaling his tender touches.

- He just wants to be there for you as much as you have always been for him, he is such a sweet baby who loves you unconditionally.

❀ Subaru Sakamaki.

- “Tsk, oi! oi!” The anger in his voice is mixed with the shadows of worry and underlying dark hues of panic as he calls for you.

- To no avail, for you slump unresponsive against his chest.

- His arms wrap protectively around your form.

- “You idiot!” He grits his teeth, fear and anger rising in his heart, almost choking him like wilted rose thorns.

- Why are you not answering him? Why is a crease forming in between your brows?

- Is it his fault after all? Does he really always ruin everything?

- “Subaru…” You call, half unconscious. In your daze and shallow breathing, you cling to him.

- Clenching his jaw, Subaru picks you up in his arms.

- “You really are an idiot…” He softly utters, voice devoid of any malice.

- “Don’t go…” You mumble, skin coated in a sheen of sweat.

- Well, at least you seem to be conscious enough to still know he is by your side. He just hopes this is indeed not too bad.

- Brings you to your bed and when you fully wake up he is most likely losing it because why did you agree to him having your blood if you were feeling weak?

- You know he can go without it for a little longer, it’s not like he cares about you of course (his words not mine) it’s more that it’s a hassle to have to care for you afterwards and besides what if something had really happened to you or what if you hadn’t been with him-

- His speech is interrupted by your hands gently cupping his face and your lips on top of his.

- For an instant, ruby eyes widen, his cheeks matching their hue, but then he is quick to return the kiss.

- There is desperation written all over it, filling the sensation with subtle layers of fear, white wilted petals on moonless nights.

- “I love you…” You think you hear, barely above a whisper, when you part ways.

- “What did you say, Subaru?” You ask, half teasing.

- His face’s hue deepens, as he pouts, looking away.

- “I told you! You have to tell me when you are too exhausted to give me blood! Don’t you dare do that again!” He sputters, stomping away.

- Well, you’d rather he be his tsundere self that have him worried about you (as cute as he is).

❀ Azusa Mukami.

- Not a good idea to fall unconscious by his side, just saying /hj.

- See, Azusa is a sweet boy. It’s just that he might use… rather… eh… unconventional methods to try and wake you up.

- I mean, yes, he sure is scared that you just have fainted on him, but also the pained expression on your face… That means you are enjoying this, no?

- Then, is this really bad? Maybe if he gives you some new “friends” you might come to.

- He really is trying his best, poor baby :(

- But this isn’t right… you usually flinch or try to resist when he tries to cut you.

- Why are you completely unresponsive now?

- “Hey… Eve…” Azusa calls, his voice slightly quivering, the usual aloofness in it threatening to crack.

- This is definitely not good, you always answered him, after all.

- Now he is beginning to become frightened. What if he ends up losing you too? He doesn't want you to be just a permanently etched wound on his skin. He needs you, your here and now.

- “Azusa, what are you doing?” Ruki’s voice cuts through his disarrayed thoughts.

- “Eve… they… they fainted.”

- “It’s not severe, I told you not to cut her too much, figure it out by yourself.” Is Ruki’s statement as he walks away.

- After a few minutes, you finally regain consciousness.

- You are met by dull amethyst eyes, a silver lining illuminating them beautifully the moment you react.

- “You’re awake… Eve…”

- He wraps his arms around you before you’ve had time to fully sit up from the daze.

- “Azusa!” You yelp, not expecting the sudden embrace.

- Despite him always having a cold body temperature, his hug feels… comforting, a welcome warmth fending off the chills that raked your skin up until moments ago.

- A smile tugs at your lips, as you return the embrace. Perhaps Azusa is learning about this gentler kid of affection now.

- In that case, you’ll give him plenty of it. You stay like that for a while, neither of you wanting to pull away.

- “Eve… is safe…” He whispers, pulling away enough to lock eyes with you with a tender smile.

- And his gentleness does certainly make you feel that way right now.

#diabolik lovers #dialovers #diabolik lovers x reader #diabolik lovers headcanons #kou mukami #subaru sakamaki #azusa mukami #subaru x reader #kou x yui #azusa x yui #diabolik lovers fandom #diabolik lovers fanfiction

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ghostlyferrettarot · 27 days ago

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★Pick a Picture: ˚˖𓍢ִ໋🛒✧˚.💓⋆ What gossip is being said about you lately˚˖𓍢ִ໋🛒✧˚.💓⋆

•Pile 1 •Pile 2 •Pile 3

❗️This is a collective reading, take what resonates and leave the rest❗️

✨️Paid Services ✨️ (Natal charts and tarot readings) Open!

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🩰Masterlist🩰

˚ ༘⋆🛍️｡˚Pile 1: Judgement, The Star, The Knight of Swords

The rumors that have been circulating about you lately feel really judgemental, to put it in a way. With this card also present, people may be talking about a significant transformation you have, whether on a personal, professional, or emotional level. Perhaps someone has noticed a change in you, like a transformation or glow up, and they now see you differently. Some people may talk about how you have “reinvented” yourself or how you have let go of aspects of the past that no longer serve you. The important thing is that these changes have led you to a new version of yourself that is more authentic. People may see you as a inspiration, as someone who has been through hardships but has managed to overcome them. The rumors about you are likely to be more about what you have accomplished and how you inspire others to follow in your footsteps. The rumors may be coming from people who are speaking impulsively or even somewhat aggressively, that's the energy im picking up with. Someone may be passing on opinions quickly and without much thought to the consequences. I feel like there are those who feel attacked by your success or transformation, and, rather than confront you directly, they just talk badly about you or criticize your decisions. However, the people who are talking about you probably don't have a solid basis, so to say, for their comments. It's more a matter of weird opinions. The tone of these rumors is more positive than negative, but there are those who, without knowing the whole story, may speak about you in a hateful wayr.

You keep doing you pile 1, you are the star!

˚ ༘⋆🛍️｡˚Song:

˚ ༘⋆🛍️｡˚Pile 2: The Moon, The Devil, The 5 of Cups

The rumors circulating about you have a enigmatic energy, so to speak. The Moon indicates that there is confusion or misinformation in what is being said about you. People may be speaking superficially or even making up things that are not true. These rumors may be based on misunderstandings its what i feel, and the details of what is being said about you are likely to be unclear. Some people may not be seeing the whole truth or may be letting their own fears or insecurities cause them to misjudge you, i feel a lot of envy pile 2 from them to you. There may be those who are speaking negatively about you, accusing you of being involved in unethical behavior or even situations that have put you in a bad light. There could be people who are talking about how you are doing so because they feel jealous or distrustful of you, projecting their own fears or insecurities onto you. The rumors about you may be related to situations or relationships that didn't go well, and some people may be talking about you from a place of sadness or resentment. There may be circumstances where you get something that someone else wants, and now there is some sort of gossip about what happened out of envy, thsi could be a job position, a recognition, etc. Someone may feel hurt or disappointed in you, and those feelings are driving the gossip, someone you cut out, an ex-friend is what im getting. Some people may be speaking from a perspective of resentment or sadness, perhaps because they feel like something has been lost, i feel the energy of a past friendship again, something that you ended. Be careful of the people around you, as they may be projecting their own fears or insecurities onto you.

Don't listen to what others say, you keep focusing on your journey and you will succeed in whatever you want pile 2! dont let otehrs bring you down <3

˚ ༘⋆🛍️｡˚Song:

˚ ༘⋆🛍️｡˚Pile 3: Strength, The Chariot, The High Priestess

Rumors about you lately seem to be very focused on your inner strength and determination, with 3 mayor arcanas in your reading, it's powerful! With Strength, people talk about your resilience and your ability to overcome obstacles with grace and courage. You are likely seen as someone who has faced challenges, and those aspects of your personality are reflected in the rumors in a good light. Some may even admire your ability to remain calm and stable, even when things get tough. People may be commenting on your accomplishments, whether professionally, personally, or even emotionally. You may be seen as someone who has taken charge of your life and moved forward with determination, which can provoke admiration, but also jealousy in some cases. Rumors may speak of your efforts to succeed despite hardships and how you have managed to maintain control. Finally, The High Priestess suggests that many of the conversations about you are guided good intentions and acts of kindness, i feel like people really like you pile 3! Some may speak of you with a sense of mystery, as they sense that you have a wisdom or deeper understanding of life. Rumors may relate to how others perceive your inner wisdom and your ability to remain private, many seem curious about your life 👀 You may be seen as someone who is moving towards your goals with determination and control that others find intriguing.

So keep putting in the good work and you will keep shining pile 3!

˚ ༘⋆🛍️｡˚Song:

˚ ༘⋆🛍️｡˚Thanks for reading and tell me if it resonated ˚ ༘⋆🛍️｡˚

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