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adventures-of-the-creeping-bam · 2 years ago

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NEVER SPLIT THE PARTY: THE ADVENTURES OF THE CREEPING BAM, BOOK TWO: ONE COLD TRAIL - CHAPTER 30

If you’re new to the story, please go check out Book 1 first …

Book 2 Chapter 1 is here …

IMPORTANT: Please note this story includes content that may be considered mature, such as moderate battle violence, some strong language and occasional mild sexual scenes.

If you want to support my writing, feel free to swing by my Patreon or Ko-fi.

CHAPTER THIRTY: KESLA

Vandryss is really good, I am keenly aware of this fact. This whole time we been fighting, she’s fought off everything I’ve thrown at her, she’s just too quick and a whole lot stronger than I would’ve expected just to look at her. That said, I fought enough seemingly underwhelming individuals who turned out to be incredibly dangerous in my time that this ain’t nothing like the surprise she might’ve banked on. Her impressive talent, though … that was enough of a surprise for me.

She’s run me ragged since we started this, when Shay arrived I didn’t even try to convince her not to join the fight because I knew I really didn’t have much left, she came to help at just the right time. But then this evil fucking cunt just beat down what we were both able to throw up against her and now Shay’s sitting there in her own blood, one of the nastiest wounds you can get in her gut and a potential death sentence hanging over her. I seen wounds like that before, it’s a rare thing to survive one of those. She’s strong, she might last a few days, but she’s almost certainly gonna die, and it’s a real painful way to go, too.

I’m mad. I am absolutely fuming, in fact. I wanna tear this bitch apart with my bare hands and bathe in her blood. This is the kind of rage that makes a person unstoppable … and it might be enough to win this fight …

Seeing me coming for her, Vandryss just shrugs, spreading her arms wide as she takes a few steps back, still wearing that sickening smile. “That mean it’s just you and me again?” Her accent’s thicker than Yeslee’s, she’s definitely from Tektehr, and hearing it now … yeah, to be honest that just makes me hate her even more.

When I’m within striking distance I don’t bother with any banter, don’t try anything fancy, I just spur myself into a full, furious charge and head straight for her. I don’t even raise my sword, I just tighten up and throw myself forward, and now I see the first whisker of doubt cross her face before I just commit and I’m not even seeing her face anymore. I’m just concentrating on her centre of mass.

“Oh … shit!” I hear her mutter it under her breath as I surge in, but if she tries to react as she realises I’m not doing what she would’ve expected me to do she’s too slow to make any difference now. I catch her full force in the middle with my shoulder and keep moving forward, pushing upwards as I make contact and then just stopping on the spot, or at least as much as the wet grass allows me to. Needless to say she goes flying.

She sprawls hard on her back and skids as she lands, but somehow she still manages to keep hold of her blades. If she’s winded it don’t show, she starts getting up almost immediately, but I ain’t interested in giving her a chance to collect herself right now. I just want her dead. So I charge in again and swing Hefdred up high, catching the hilt in my offhand at the last so I can use full force as I bring it down on her while she’s still just up onto one knee.

Except she’s still so damn fast, she catches me coming and it’s enough for her to get her sword and knife both up before I can cut down into the top of her head, maybe split her in two, I’ve long since given up trying to capture her alive. Instead my blade just crashes down into both of hers as she crosses them over her head, and while the force of my blow is enough to knock them down again, she still manages to stop me an inch or so short of her crown. Growling hard, I just start trying to force my blade down further, putting every ounce of strength I can muster into it now as I fight to crush her arms down under my sword and bite into her skull after all … but no joy. It’s like trying to cut through solid granite.

‘Least she ain’t smiling anymore, I realise. I catch sight of her blazing emerald eyes glaring up at me from under her rigid blades, a littler tremulous now but it’s just the subtle quiver of her own effort to ward me off, she ain’t weakening. She’s pissed, though, I got her angry now, and in the face of this it feels like a tiny victory. I force my own smile to my lips now, and while it don’t feel fantastic, reckon I at least got it smug as I can manage. Seeing that, she just narrows her eyes, growling low under her breath. Means it’s working.

So I take a little risk and just take my weight off the blade for a split. Enough for me to draw my shoulders back, tensing again as soon as I get a little relief. She doesn’t catch my intent quick enough to react, so as I give less than an inch I snap back down on it immediately, throwing my full weight on Hefdred again with a hard downward jolt. And she gives.

Not by much, mind, but the surprise is enough she slackens by a degree at least, and this time I chop down more than another inch. She ducks her head aside too quick for me to cut down right into her crown, her reflexes are clearly too good for that, but I still manage to catch the side of her forehead before she can withdraw enough, cutting a line into her white skin. That makes her snarl with particular fury, and her eyes flash again before they clamp shut.

Breaking contact, she drags both blades away from under my sword in the same motion that she throws herself aside with, but as she starts to unbalance me I just keep pushing Hefdred down with full force, hoping I can proper cut into her while she’s disengaging. She’s still so fucking fast, she almost gets clear before I can catch her, but my sword just nicks her thigh before she can quite make it, and I know I cut deep.

Then Hefdred thumps deep into the turf and I almost drop onto my knees as I fight to keep from just falling forward entirely. I barely manage to recover myself in time, and I pull back immediately, yanking the blade free with a great spray of muddy soil and shredded grass, wheeling my arms a bit as I find myself stumbling backwards. Vandryss could take me right now, but she’s too busy staggering away herself, visibly limping from the long, deep gash I’ve carved right through the leather of her fitted britches and the flesh beneath. Once I’ve righted myself again I chance a look at the sword, and while it’s still a little muddy despite the rain, I can see blood’s getting washed away too. A pretty decent amount, in fact.

Vandryss drops her knife as she keeps staggering back from me, her now free hand going straight to the wound, but her eyes are locked on me. Narrowed to slits now, I can still make out the green fire flashing between her lids, and her face is filled with rage and pure hate. She’s surprised, I realise after a moment, amazed I actually wounded her, she clearly never expected I’d actually be able to draw her blood, never mind twice in the space of a minute. It’s already starting to pour down the side of her face, although the nick’s too far to the left for it to get in her eye, which might have given me an additional advantage going forward. That said, it’s not doing any favours for her mood.

“You … you massive bitch, I can’t … is that dwarven steel?”

Raising Hefdred again, I point it towards her like I did before, looking down the line of the blade. There ain’t so much as a scratch on it from that little wrestling match. “Best in the world.” I give a little smirk as I answer her.

She watches me with fresh caution for a long moment, clearly re-evaluating now. “There’s more to you than I thought, clearly.” She grits her sharp teeth and takes her hand away from her wounded thigh, giving it a little shake and then rubbing her fingers down her side to get rid of the blood as she takes up a two-handed grip on her sword. Then she shifts her weight and puts it on her bad leg, and it doesn’t buckle like I would’ve expected. There’s the subtlest tightening in her jaw and narrowing of her left eye, but otherwise it’s like she’s not even hurt. Okay … that’s interesting …

Her attack’s so fast I almost don’t see it. One beat she’s just squaring up for whatever’s coming, then she’s just surging towards me, visibly blurring now as she whips to the left and then right with startling speed. In the end it’s my surprise that actually saves me, reckon if I’d actually reacted to that first feint I might’ve been caught out, but instead when she comes at me on my right and flicks her sword in high I parry it essentially without thinking about it first. A whole youth of muscle-memory from years of intensive training and then close to two more decades of living everyday with a sword in my hand means I block her attack by pure instinct. As I batter her blade aside I lunge forward under her deflected stroke and slash for her exposed chest with my own sword, but she’s already gone, dodging aside before I can cut anything but air.

My leading foot skids over the wet grass and I just let myself go down with it, and this is enough to save me again as Vandryss tries to cut me down from behind, her blade whistling harmlessly right over the top of my head. I go down on one knee as I start to turn to counter whatever she’s got coming next, and as I spin, fighting to get my other foot planted behind me now, I just whip Hefdred round in a wild, unfocused haymaker where I figure she might be. This catches her intended attack mostly by accident, but my stroke’s hard enough to send her stumbling back again with her sword loudly buzzing in her hand. She scowls as she fights to right herself, and the fresh pain in her face tells me she’s clearly rattled by the jarring vibrations from that hit. Again it gives me enough breathing room to recover as I force myself into a low ready stance with my sword held low.

The way she peddles aside as she rights herself again tells me she’s not quite so ignorant of that thigh-wound as she’s been working on making out – she’s a tough cookie, then, and definitely unexpectedly powerful, but not so much that she’s some kind of strange, unbeatable super-beast. She spits towards me as she plants her feet again, matching my stance, and it’s clear she’s gonna wait for me to make a move this time.

Lowering Hefdred a little more, I stick its tip a couple of inches into the sodden turf between us as I take a half-step forward, keeping my eyes locked on hers the whole time, and she’s so busy watching mine that she doesn’t realise what I’m doing. So when I whip the blade up fast and hard in front of her as I start my charge, a wet, filthy splash of displaced mud catches her in the face and she hisses in furious distress as she stumbles backwards again. Her free hand flails at her face to clear the blinding mess away from her eyes while her sword flails unguided in front of her in a desperate ploy to try and ward me off, but I’m too focused to be dissuaded.

Battering her sword aside with the casual ease of swatting a cold-drowsed fly in late autumn, I’m not even thinking about trying to fight anymore, I just want this done. So I cock Hefdred back down low and tight and as I close in on her as she drags a clump of mud away and tries to blink through it I just thrust forward with all the strength I can muster. There’s that resistance I’ve grown used to with leather armour, but her leather breastplate’s no match for the force and momentum I’ve built up and the sharp, hard steel of my blade, so I ram the whole length of my sword right through her chest. I don’t stop until the hilt meets resistance from her solar plexus, so for a long moment as I stop there, panting with the effort, she’s hung an inch or two off the ground at the end of my extended arms.

Spitting blood, Vandryss tilts her head back for a long moment with a croaking rasp as her sword slips from her fingers and thumps harmlessly into the grass below, before giving her chin a hard jerk and looking back down at me again. She blinks again through her filthy hair now that the worst of the mud’s been washed clear, and this time she’s able to focus enough on me I can see the hot blaze of her eyes again, flashing brighter than ever now. She coughs, spitting up more blood again, and my arms are starting to weaken so I just let them drop, Vandryss’ body falling with them. Her feet touch the ground and they’re still strong enough to hold her up, which takes me a little by surprise as I let her support my sword now while I take a long step forward to bring my face close to hers.

“How does that feel, you evil cunt?”

Vandryss just blinks a few more times, still trying to get a bead on me through the lingering remnants of the mud, but her eyes are meeting mine well enough now, and as she bares her clenched teeth this time she starts to growl. Finally she lets out a decidedly winded snarl and the kick that follows takes me entirely by surprise, I admit I really wasn’t expecting her to be able to do anything like that with nearly three feet of sharp dwarven steel rammed right through her.

Her boot smashes hard into my gut and it’s all I can do to hold onto my sword as I’ve pummelled back with astounding force. I swear, it feels to me like I’ve taken a trebuchet’s boulder full in the stomach, the force of it knocks me full back right off my feet and I must fly a good ten feet before landing in the wet grass and skidding on my back. At least the landing’s soft, but my whole stomach feels like it’s been forced right back through my spine, I’m astounded my spine didn’t just snap the moment she kicked me, and it’s as much a surprise I’ve still got my sword clutched in my right hand.

I lie there for what feels like a long time indeed, rain just washing over the lenses of my goggles from the tumultuous, broiling darkness overhead, lightning flashes popping off in bright wet blurs I have to blink at in random spots of my vision. After a seeming eternity I’m finally able to drag in a fresh breath and I try to sit up again as I start gasping and coughing, but my guts protest instantly, feeling like I’ve ruptured something from the sheer, aching pain that I’m feeling right through my midsection. That can’t have just been a kick, surely? She must’ve hit me with something …

Unable to sit up, I just brush the rain the rain from the lenses while I raise my head, slowly realising half of it’s my winded tears underneath as I fight to focus now. Vandryss is still on her feet, but she’s staggering again, almost doubled over now as she grasps at the substantial wound in her chest, gawking somewhat as she casts about, struggling to retrieve her sword … shit, that was right through her heart, how is this monstrous thing still fucking standing?

Finally managing to drag her sword up out of the mud, Vandryss looks up towards me again, eyes still narrowed while she spits another mouthful of blood. She genuinely looks like something I’d imagine from a campfire horror story, this is something out my nightmares coming for me now, and seeing it gives me a little fresh strength as my fight-or-flight responses kick in. Even though it feels like my guts are being pierced by red hot pokers and my back’s made of shattered glass, I manage to sit up at last, and as I double over, grasping my battered stomach with my free hand I drag in the deepest breath I can manage. It’s nowhere near deep as I’d like and my ribs protest screaming the whole time, but it gives me enough of a third wind to force myself up onto my knees at least, although I get the feeling this is the best I’m gonna manage for a while. Gods help me trying to actually fight like this, I’m just preying that wound I gave her might prove as crippling to her right now.

Something explodes behind her and the whole courtyard lights up so bright this time that I can almost see the white flash of whatever it is through Vandryss, I swear I see her bones silhouetted through the rest of her for a split. A beat later a great blast of wind ploughs through her from behind and she stumbles badly while I’m almost knocked right back down on my own arse again, while a great wash of displaced rainwater splashes me hard in the face and my vision’s washed out again for a moment.

Jamming Hefdred into the turf beside me, I’m able to drag myself up onto one feet, and I use my free hand to wipe my goggles clear as I focus on what’s in front of me now. Vandryss righting herself too, and she growls something under her breath I can’t identify, although it sounds vaguely familiar enough that after a moment I recognise one of Yeslee’s Tektehran curses. Her legs wobble for a beat, then she drops to one knee, stabbing her own sword in the ground like I’ve done to keep herself from faceplanting while her other hand splashes in the wet mud in front of her, some of it hitting her in the face. Another oath escapes her lips and she looks at me again, eyes blazing brighter than ever.

Glaring stone cold murder at me now, I reckon.

Dragging Hefdred free of the mud again, I take it up in both my hands now, holding it in a worryingly clumsy guard in front of me as I try hard not to just double over on the spot. I’m amazed I don’t just drop the sword immediately, and when I put on the fiercest glare I can muster I’m further surprised by how solid it feels. Thorin knows the rest of me feels like a gods-awful bluff right now …

Then the air just opens beside Vandryss and I recognise one of those inexplicable magic portals I can’t quite see, instantly replaced by a somewhat windswept, ragged form in robes, cloak and hood. I can make out enough of their features to see they’re female, with long unruly hair under their hood, although it’s seeing the corkscrewing staff in their hands, looking somewhat splintered now as it smokes, that helps me realise who it is. This is the best look I’ve had at their wizard, and as I’m able to make out more of their face thanks to these miraculous lenses, I realise they’re a human woman who might be approaching middle age, although she’s aging impressively well despite it. Then again she’s got great bones, I can imagine her still looking good when she’s an old woman … if she ever gets that far, that is.

She ain’t alone, either – she’s got hold of the orc, Granzun, who’s on both knees himself, although I think that might be as much due to the fact that he’s clearly already been through it as whatever just happened behind Vandryss. His still impressive leather armour has been badly torn and shredded in various places, and a few of the blades he’s clearly been caught with even look to have drawn blood here and there, although less than I’d like. Mostly he just seems stunned, his head lolling some while his eyes are unfocused now, and I think he’s taken a bad hit from whatever it was that, I suspect, this woman just did. Seeing this, I realise I’m lucky to still be up, or maybe it’s just that I wasn’t as close …

“Time to go!” The woman hisses now, laying a hand on Vandryss’ shoulder.

“What … no!” Vandrys spits her words out with a finer spray of blood this time, but there’s no less venom than before. “I want this puffed up bitch.” She locks her eyes on mine again, still narrowed and blazing, and tries to get up again.

Seeing it, I try to force a little more strength into my own legs too, enough that I might be able to pick myself up enough to get my other foot under me too, but it ain’t coming. If she does charge me now I realise it’ll be miracle enough if I can just swing my sword well enough to stop anything she might throw at me.

“Van, fight’s done, we don’t have time for this.” The wizard hisses, looking at me now. I can’t make out any real colours through my goggles, everything’s in slightly rosy-tinted black and white, but I can see how piercing those eyes are clear enough. She’s a smart one, being so talented a mage as she clearly is she might even be smart as Gael. Wouldn’t surprise me. “I don’t think we can win this one. Not right now.”

“What the fuck are you talking about –” Vandryss reaches for the woman’s hand, I suspect she’s going to try shaking it off, but in that same moment she sets her staff against her shoulder while she reaches out with her other hand and lays it on the orc’s shoulder, then mutters under her breath. They’re gone before my opponent can finish her sentence, and for a moment there’s a big empty gap in the air before the displaced rain splashes down to fill it.

For a long moment I just stay there, watching the trampled spot in the grass where they were, making sense of it in my head, then what little strength I had left in my arms finally gives out and I let Hefdred slump in front of me … moments before my legs start to give out and I just let the sword go entirely. I just fall forward into the grass in front of me, suddenly feeling impossibly tired and so very, very sore, never mind my battered stomach. I feel like every inch of me’s been whaled on with something big and monstrous hard.

So I just stay where I am, doubled over in the grass with my face half-pressed into the sodden ground now, just enough of my mouth clear I can sort of breathe without inhaling mud in the process. My breath comes in a rattling wheeze, although it might just be my lungs working on my newly-cracked ribs or whatever, I don’t know … mostly it just hurts too much for me to really be sure.

A somewhat shaky hand touches my back and from somewhere far away I sort of hear a body splashing down at my side, someone dropping to their knees beside me, I think. A voice, too, although I’m having trouble recognising it. Words … it takes me a few moments to realise what they even mean …

“Kesla? Kesla, are you all right? It’s Gael, are you … oh gods … please say something …”

TO BE CONTINUED ...

#never split the party #The Creeping Bam #the adventures of The Creeping Bam #book 2 chapter 30 #fantasy fiction #original fiction #original fantasy fiction #to be continued

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kpostedsum · 3 years ago

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only you

draco malfoy x reader, harry potter x reader

summary: when harry asks you to get closer to a specific someone, what happens if you get too close?

based off this tiktok

song: dark red - steve lacy

a/n: there is infidelity in this fic whomppp and not edited

masterlist | taglist

Something bad is 'bout to happen to me

I don't know it but I feel it comin'

Might be so sad, might leave my nose running

the sky was gloomy on your way to hogwarts, everyone was on edge with the return of voldemort. you stayed with harry, ron and hermione all throughout the summer at the burrow preparing for your sixth year.

“he has to be a deatheater, his father is in azkaban so it makes sense if voldemort would have made him a deatheater in his fathers place” your boyfriend harry tried to explain to ron and hermione. you have to admit, he could have a point— however, no matter how bad draco is you didn’t want to think that of a sixteen year old boy. “well how do you suppose we find out?” asked ron as he awaited an answer from everyone.

“i have a plan but i don’t suppose harry would be too fond of it” hermione said with a waver in her voice. “since y/n comes from a respectable pureblood family, perhaps she can get closer to draco and confirm our suspicions for us—”

“absolutely not. i don’t want y/n any where near malfoy, who knows how dangerous he is” harry said defensively. you have to admit, hermiones plan is smart and is probably the most realistic one there is.

“it’s okay harry” you soothed him. “i’ll be fine, hermiones plan makes the most sense” you said.

“so what’s the plan?”

I just hope she don't wanna leave me

Don't you give me up, please don't give up

Honey, I belong with you, and only you, baby

“love, i still don’t think this is a good idea, what if you get hurt?” harry said as you two were cuddled on his bed together in the boys dorm, basking in each others warmth and security.

“he won’t hurt me harry, he’s a boy just like you— i’m sure if he is a deatheater he isn’t handling it as well as you think. i’ll be okay” you said. a soft silence stilled between the two of you as you enjoyed being wrapped up in your boyfriends arms, occasionally rubbing your nose against his just to hear his giggle that you love so much.

“i’ve just lost a lot of people, i don’t want you to be one of them. if something were to happen to you i’d light the world on fire and never let a flame touch you, just to keep you safe.” he said with a certain look of truth, loyalty and despair swimming in his eyes as he looked at you.

“i’m not going anywhere harry, i promise. i love you, only you” was the last thing you said before the both of you fell asleep, body parts tangled with eachother.

Only you, my girl, only you, babe

Only you, darling, only you, babe

Only you, my girl, only you, babe

Only you, darling, only you

it’s been 3 days since that night with harry, and since then you’ve been trying to get closer to draco, but every time you tried he seemed to disappear. tonight you decided you’d wander outside of the slytherin common room in hopes of him showing up.

“what are you doing here, don’t you belong with the other gryffindors and saint potter?”

there he was. the voice you’ve been waiting to hear all week.

“i’ve grown quite bored of them right now, i figured i need a little excitement in my life. which is exactly why i am here, wandering outside the slytherin common room hoping there’s someone here to cure my boredom.” you said trying to sound as convincing as possible.

“get to the point y/n” he said walking closer to you. “what do you really want? is potter not fulfilling your needs anymore?” he smirked as he backed you against the wall, caging your frame beneath his.

“harry and i are fine, thank you very much” you rolled your eyes. “he’s just too busy right now”

“so you think i’m the cure to your boredom” draco said raising his brows, curious as to where this conversation is leading too.

“i know you’re the cure to my boredom.”

Something bad is 'bout to happen to me

Why I feel this way I don't know maybe

I think of her so much it drives me crazy

I just don't want her to leave me

you and draco have been hanging out every night since that day. some days he’d be there and you’d both talk until the sun rise, and others he wouldn’t show.

you knew you had to ask him about it soon for harry’s sake but you couldn’t bring yourself to do so, atleast not tonight.

“what do you mean you haven’t found out yet? you’ve been spending almost every night with him— which you could be spending with me by the way, and you still found out nothing about him. what do you even do then?” harry exclaimed, clearly frustrated over the lack of information and the fact that his girlfriend has been hanging out with the enemy.

“i can’t just straight up ask him harry!” you say a bit louder than intended. “he has to trust me first, and how can i build that trust with him if we don’t hang out. all we do is talk, i promise.” you said, your voice softening as you weren’t in the mood to argue with your boyfriend right now.

“can we just go to sleep please, i miss you” you pleaded.

“yeah, yeah we can” he said pulling you towards him in his bed, allowing your head to rest in the crook of his neck inhaling his scent. a scent that used to be so familiar but you can feel being replaced.

“it’s only me right?” he asked staring towards his ceiling.

“yes harry, it’s only you. i love you.” you said reassuring him, but also reassuring yourself.

Don't you give me up, please don't give up

Honey, I belong with you and only you, baby

“draco, can i ask you something” you asked looking towards him as he sat on the other side of you looking at the stars on from the astronomy tower.

“what is it?” he responded.

“how come sometimes you don’t show up, some days i’ll sit here waiting for you to show up and you never do. i miss you” you said softly, hoping you can get some information out of him.

“it’s cute that you miss me, i’d be lying if i said sometimes i didn’t miss your presence as well.” he said turning towards you and sending you a smirk. crawling over to him and resting your head on his shoulder, you relaxed against him.

“you know i don’t think you’re as bad as harry makes you out to be” you admitted. it’s true though, harry makes him out to be someone vain, however you find his presence comforting. you look forward to the nights you spend with him, more than you’d like to admit. “you’re quite nice when you want to be and are really good company” you explained.

“oh yeah?” he turned to you.

“yeah” you nodded. “i think harry is blinded by hate, he doesn’t know i’ve been hanging out with you and i’m sure if he were to find out he’d think you’re hurting me.” you partly lied.

“but i don’t think you could hurt me even if you tried” you said peering up at him with a soft smile and big genuine eyes. he adored the sight but he’d never admit it.

“i dont think your boyfriend would appreciate you talking about him like this to his enemy, now would he love?” draco said with a smirk. he knew over the past few weeks you’ve been hanging out your love for harry has been fading, even if you haven’t seen it yourself.

“draco” you said breaking the soft silence. “i have something to confess”

“well what is it?” he said, turning towards you giving you his full attention.

“do you think it’s wrong for someone to feel something for someone they’re not supposed to feel for” you asked, staring into his stormy grey eyes.

“i feel like i should feel guilty, but i don’t. if anything i feel safe.” you continued.

“what do you mean by that?” draco asked, taking his hand and slowly caressing your cheek encouraging you to continue.

when he touched you it felt as if the stars were dancing across your skin. you haven’t felt that way with harry in a while. it felt as if you could be anything in the world, and for some reason, you wanted to be his.

“is it wrong that when i’m with you, i get the same feeling i used to feel with him” you asked. “i mean, for some reason i can’t seem to stay away from you, and i don’t think i want too. i feel safe with you”. you said softly, hoping he understood what you meant.

“i used to think i was crazy meeting up with you every night, but i think it’s the best decision i’ve ever made.” he expressed. “you’ve become something i look forward too everyday, someone i seek out in crowds without even realizing it. i don’t think i want to stay away from you either” he finished.

the air stilled between you two, the only sounds heard were the soft winds of the night.

“draco… can i kiss you?” you asked.

“if you do, i don’t think i’d be able to stop” he confessed.

“and what if i don’t want you to stop” you said leaning closer and pressing your lips against his.

his lips were soft. slightly cold but it was addictive. kissing him felt so good, you might have even forgot how to breathe, but breathing wasn’t important in that moment.

“i’ve waited— i’ve waited so long for this, but i didn’t want to ruin what you and saint potter had” he said as he pulled you to straddle his lap and you pressed harsh kisses against his neck, craving to feel him.

“you didn’t ruin a thing” you said in between kisses. “i ruined it the day i decided to seek you out outside your common room” you continued breaking the kiss.

“i’m glad you did” he said resting his forehead against yours.

Only you, my girl, only you, babe

Only you, darling, only you, babe

Only you, my girl, only you, babe

Only you, darling, only you

whatever you had going on with draco continues for months, hidden kisses between classes and tangled limbs in his bed at night.

the only problem was harry.

“as much as i’d love to brag about stealing potters girlfriend to everyone, i don’t think i can do that” draco said as you both laid in bed together in each others embrace.

“i know, but i can’t leave him yet. it’s just not the right time” you said turning to face him.

“i know” he said turning towards you. “if anything, i enjoy sneaking around with you” he says as he presses light kisses to your neck.

“what are you thinking about” he asks as he notices you’re not paying attention to him.

“harry’s probably wondering where i am, i should probably go to him” you said sadly.

“just be back tomorrow, alright?”

“i’ll always come back to you draco, i promise” you said pressing a kiss to his lips and heading to the gryffindor common room.

What if she's fine

It's my mind that's wrong

And I just let bad thoughts

Linger for far too long

“you’ve been out quite a bit haven’t you” ron said as you entered the common room. his eyes, hermione’s and harry’s eyes all on you.

“i’ve just been trying to get the information you wanted from him” you lied as you took a seat next to hermione.

“we’ll have you gotten anything?” she asked

“no, i haven’t. i don’t think hes a deatheater, i mean it’s been months since i’ve been hanging with him— he would have told me by now” you explained.

“what do you mean he doesn’t trust you, all you do is be with him and stare at each other in class. i wouldn’t be surprised if he had a bloody crush on you by now” harry said quite aggressively.

“we only talk, i’ve told you that already” you said sternly even though it was a lie.

“how about we all go to sleep and discuss this in the morning, it’s quite late” ron said trying to diffuse the tension.

“i agree, it’s too late and none of us are thinking straight” hermione added on to ron’s statement and going straight to the girls dorm, ron going to the boys dorm.

Don't you give me up, please don't give up

Honey, I belong, with you, only you, baby

you and harry were left in the common room alone, the sound of fire crackling becoming more evident and loud as you tried to avoid his gaze.

“i’m sorry for lashing out like that” he said breaking the silence. “i know you and malfoy have nothing going on, i guess i’ve just missed you.”

“i missed you too harry” you said looking over to him.

“c’mere” he said tugging you towards him so you sit on his lap. “i love you, y’know. i don’t think i’d be able to do any of this without you” he continued looking into your eyes with a look of desperation of love.

a look you couldn’t return.

“i love you too harry, only you.” the lies came out your mouth before you could even stop them.

“only you, i promise.”

Only you, my girl, only you, babe

Only you, darling, only you, babe

Only you, my girl, only you, babe

Only you, darling, only you

taglist: @mauvea @teenwolfbitches28 @ilygw @nic0lodean @s1ater @henqtic @justreadingficsdontmindme @i-love-scott-mccall @harmqnia @gwlvr @alishahpotter

#draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy #draco malfoy fluff #draco malfoy smut #draco fuckingmalfoy #draco malfoy angst #harry potter #draco lucius malfoy #harry potter angst #harry potter fluff #harry potter x reader #harry potter x reader x draco malfoy #harry potter x ravenclaw!reader #harry potter x ginny weasley #harry potter fic #harry potter x you

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yourmcu · 4 years ago

Text

Forgotten (CONTINUED VERSION)

Pairings: Tony Stark x daughter!reader, Peter Parker x Stark!reader (platonic)

Request:

Hello i love your story could you do angsty tony x daughter reader. Wherein the reader has a twin brother and Tony and the avengers prefer the twin brother and becaus of that, the reader became rebel and badass. She always getting trouble and almost drop out student. The avengers and her father were seem disappointed and dont know what to do. Not until the reader involve into car accident and she's critical injured. The reader also slipped to coma. Everyone is devastated about the reader conditione. And they realized that the reader only rebel because she wants to get attention from them. It depends to you what the end come, I just want a full angst this week and I hope you dont mind my English. Anyway I hope your alright.

A/n: y’all wanted it, I finished it :)

Word count: 3,984

(more notes at the end!)

Warnings: angst, hurt/comfort? bad writing of an anxiety attack, accident, knife, hospitals

read it on ao3!

gif not mine! credits to the owner^^

Being a genius/billionaire/superhero’s kid doesn’t always sound nice like it usually does.

You were one of the Stark twins, the other half being your brother, Ethan.

The both of you showed signs that you inherited the commonly known Stark trait (intelligence) at a young age. But Tony mostly focused on his son, showing him all his inventions and gadgets, teaching him everything he knew while you on the other hand, were being babysat by Happy or Pepper, sometimes Rhodey.

You tried so hard to get your father’s attention but he always had his excuses:

“I don’t have time for that.”

“I’m busy with Ethan right now.”

“Maybe later.”

At first you didn’t mind if your brother got all the praise and attention. It wasn’t until your mid-teens that you really started to feel left out and ignored.

You were left to frown when the other Avengers never found anything interesting about you, just like Tony did. They all liked Ethan better. The topic of him being the next Iron Man when Tony retires is getting exhausting.

There was this one time when Tony announced that they were all going out to dinner since Ethan got, yet again, a full set of A’s on his report card.

“Did you get my card?” You tapped on Tony’s shoulder lightly.

He gave you a side glance, “ah shoot, I forgot. I’ll go get it tomorrow.” Then returned his attention to your brother.

But he ended up forgetting again the next day and you had to convince your teacher to give it to you instead. Your marks had A’s, but littered with B’s as well, of course that was no match for your brother’s perfect marks.

And that sort of scenario wasn’t just a one time thing, Tony forgets to pick up your report card every. single. time. The messed up part was you and Ethan literally attended the same school, he was just in a more advanced class than you.

As time passed, Tony went from ignoring you to getting annoyed and pissed at you for everything you did. In his eyes, you were always in the wrong. And the reason? You didn’t know.

“Dad? Can I borrow Bruce for a minute?” You knocked on the glass door of his lab to get him to look up.

He didn’t, but responded, “kinda busy with him right now.”

You looked at your fractured arm, regretting your decisions. “W-well, Ethan was training with Nat, and... and he wanted to try the new moves he learned on me. He went a little hard and - I think my arm’s broken, I just wanted Bruce to check it out-”

“Goddammit!” He shouted after you heard a glass shatter. Bruce covered his face with palms, muttering an ‘oh no’.

Tony glared at you, striding to where you were standing. All that was left for you to do was to brace yourself for what was about to come. “See, this is why we never let you do anything with the team,” he spat. “That right there?”-he pointed to your arm-“that’s on you. Things go wrong because you’re in the way!”

“I’m... I’m sorry-”

“Just get out of here.”

Your arm remained untreated after that.

Then Peter Parker came into the picture. Friendly guy, he was actually nice to you. Him and Ethan got along right away when Tony first recruited him. The fact that he treated Peter better than you made you even more miserable. It made you think he never wanted a daughter in the first place.

You first met Peter when he accidentally entered your room without warning, thinking it was the bathroom. Cliche, but that’s what happened.

“It’s on the first door to your other left,” you stated.

“Yeah, yeah okay, thanks,” he turned around to leave but stopped to look at you again. “I’m Peter Parker, by the way.”

“Y/N Stark.”

Peter’s eyes lit up at your last name. “I... I didn’t know Mr. Stark had a daughter - no offense! It’s just-”

You sighed and waved him off. He didn’t even notice the similarities you had with your twin. “It’s fine. I get that a lot.”

After many events of being, to be blunt, treated like shit, you finally had enough. You neglected your studies, only went to school when you felt like it (which was rare). No one cared your grades anyway, so what’s the point? You became a whole new person, you surrounded yourself with the wrong sort of people, causing you to dabble into smoking and alcohol.

Since you were always in trouble, you could recite Cap’s detention speech at school by heart now.

The principal of your school wanted to see Tony to talk about your behavior. Normally he’d make an excuse not to go if it wasn’t that important but he got flooded with messages from the school, so he couldn’t say no.

You had your legs crossed, sitting across from Tony who had his eyebrows furrowed as he listened to the principal. For some reason you didn’t feel nervous. “Y/N barely attends her classes. I’ve seen every attendance. Are you aware of this, Mr. Stark?”

Tony only maintained his usual relaxed posture and avoided your gaze.

“Some students have also seen her smoke in school grounds. We gave her a few weeks suspension for it, but it doesn’t look like she’s learned her lesson.” They pulled out a couple boxes of cigarettes from the desk drawer. “We found these in her locker.”

“You went into my locker?” You shot up from your seat. “You can’t just do that!”

Tony cleared his throat and got up, gripping your wrist. “I’ll take it from here - will that be all?”

On the way out he doesn’t say a word to you, only that his grip on your wrist got tight as you near the car.

“So,” he started the car. His voice was calm, but it screamed that you were in deep trouble. “What do you have to say for yourself?”

You sighed and slouched in the passenger’s seat, crossing your arms. “I’m... sorry you had to know...?”

“Yeah, I’m just gonna be honest with you here,” Tony still doesn’t look at you. “When I found out I had two kids, I got worried about Ethan.”

You let out a snort. Of course he would.

“I didn’t want him ending up like me. But surprise surprise, my daughter did instead.”

“I’m not ‘ending up’ like you, Dad-”

“Then what do you call - this,” he referred to you. “What, you’re just gonna waste your life, drop out of school? You’re a fucking mess, Y/N, and here I thought I raised you right. Sometimes I think: why can’t you just be like your brother?” He had a hard grip on the steering wheel as he drove, the way he spoke affected the speed of the car greatly.

You opened your mouth to speak but you couldn’t fine the exact words you wanted to say. “I... well, I’m sorry I’m not a goody two shoes like him!”

“That’s not what I-”

“Please, that’s exactly what you meant.”

He scoffed, shaking his head. “Look, I’m grounding you until you pull yourself together, understand?” And he did. He gave new orders to Friday when the both of you got home. You weren’t allowed to leave the compound without Tony’s permission.

Were you giving up that easily? Of course not.

You were on your laptop for the rest of the day, hacking into Friday’s system, the security to the elevator and the entrance. That night, your executed your plan and everything went smoothly.

“This is why you never underestimate me,” you sighed, deactivating the hack once you were out of the building.

Your friend who was picking you up was already waiting a few blocks away from the compound. “I hope you’re cool with me staying over for a couple days.”

“If a bunch of Avengers come and destroy my place to look for you, I’m not going to be friends with you anymore.”

You laughed at out, “oh trust me, they don’t care.”

----

The next day no one noticed your absence, nobody did for another two days. Tony just assumed you were mad about your punishment, so he didn’t think of it much.

Not until Peter came to the compound on the third day, wanting to hang out with you.

“Whatcha got there, Pete?” Ethan asked.

“Star Wars movies. I wanna watch them with Y/N - she could use some company, don’t you think?”

The older Stark twin shrugged, “yeah, I guess she could.”

Peter then headed to the elevator and stopped at the floor where your room was. He knocked on your door and waited a bit, after a few minutes of silence he knocked again, still nothing.

“Y/N? Is it okay if I come in?” He called out. No response. He hesitated a bit, for all he knew you were probably changing or something, or you could be in danger. He went to open the door anyway. “I’m coming in, I’ll close my eyes just to be-”

To Peter’s surprise, your room was empty.

----

You were at a 711 parking lot, waiting for your friends who were buying supplies for a house party. You gave them your wallet, not really caring about anything anymore. Your phone was starting to pile up with messages and missed calls from Tony, Edward and Peter, occasionally from the others as you scrolled pass more.

Without thinking you threw your phone to the ground, cracking the screen, breaking it completely. They’d be able to track you through it now that they know you ran away. You really had no intention of coming back. You weren’t wanted, what’s the point of going back?It’s early but you’ve had a few drinks already. You weren’t sure if breaking your phone was a good idea but there’s one thing you’re sure: you didn’t care anymore.

You didn’t have to turn your head to see who just arrived and ambushed your friends inside the store. They ran out and left you behind. The sound of webs coming out of his shooters was enough for you to tell.

“You shouldn’t be here, Peter,” you sighed defeatedly.

Peter gently took a seat next to you, not removing his mask since you were in public and handed your wallet back. “I don’t understand why you left.”

He took in your awful state. His suit scanned how intoxicated you were, estimated how many cigarette packets you’ve had. His frown deepened at the information.

“I care about you. We all do. Mr. Stark’s not going to stop the search party until you come home.”

You rolled your eyes at the term. “Stupid search party – pathetic – I’m not coming home anymore, Pete-” you slurred and tried to get up but stumbled back, almost twisting your ankle but fell to Peter’s side. “Ow.”

He sighed, struggling to get ahold of you since you always pulled away.

“Stop being so stubborn, okay?”

“If you don’t like my stubborn fucking ass then maybe you should just leave,” you stated. “I’m not wanted there. I got the message. I didn’t run away just to be fucking found.”

Peter stared at you for a moment. He didn’t know why you got grounded in the first place, how you got here and why you didn’t want to go back home. There was something off in the father-daughter relationship, he knew that, but it was news to him that it was that bad. That bad for you to waste your life, to run away. He always thought Mr. Stark was an awesome parent, the way he was treating Ethan, and him…

“It’s unfair,” you ranted. “God, if you only knew how pathetic I feel whenever he tells me off. I’m always annoying to him - not just to him, to the whole team, I’m always wrong in everything I do and it’s honestly tiring? What the fuck do I have to do just to feel loved and wanted?”

You went on rambling while Peter tried to comfort and deny every negative thing that came out of your mouth. He didn’t believe any of it, but the way everyone’s been treating you. He hated that he didn’t notice sooner. He could’ve defended you.

“I have nothing against you, I really don’t,” you sighed. “But you should be grateful they’re treating you perfectly.” You got up and strode to the opposite direction, mentally cursing because your friends ditched you and you has nowhere to go, phone destroyed and everything.

But you were staying true to your word: you didn’t have any plans to go back to the compound. You were going to figure your life out on your own.

“Y/N, I… I’m not leaving you alone out here!”

You were so fed up of the spider-ling. How good he was, how perfect, how Tony clearly wanted him more than you, how he always wanted to do the right thing, because none of you expected what happened next when he went to grab your shoulder. The action was so sudden that it Peter didn’t have time to avoid it.

Knife, shoulder, really deep.

Maybe it was just how wasted you were, because he knew you would never do anything like that.

“You’re really annoying, Parker,” you muttered, not wasting any more time watching him stumble out of shock and pain, sprinting across the streets.

With his uninjured arm, he shot webs while trying to pull the knife (the blade wasn’t even visible anymore on how deep it was) out of his shoulder. There was a loud bang, and Peter never sprinted so fast in his life, not caring less about the pain and blood, because what mattered most was your safety. When he got there, you were far from safe.

-----

A week went by. And during those seven days Tony was on edge, I mean, how can be calm at a time like that?

Peter managed to show up at the compound the same night, breathless and shaky. His state made everyone worried but he wasted no time telling Tony what happened. He got you to the hospital, making sure you were being sorted out right before leaving to break the news.

Tony didn’t think twice and went to the hospital where you were admitted, not listening to Peter’s apologies and leaving Steve to sort everyone out on what they should do.

They didn’t expect you to show signs of waking up after only a week since the accident got you mangled up, it was mostly a blow to the head and as expected, you slipped into a coma.

Right, what happened: an awful timing really, not sure if Peter’s the one to blame but he accidentally stuck you to the ground with his webs, and it just so happened a car was driving at a fast speed – there you go.

Tony made sure you got the best treatment possible. He even went and asked Strange if he could do all the surgeries needed, but he declined, claiming he couldn’t anymore despite the sympathy he felt inside. Instead he asked the best doctors he knew, but still helped out sometimes in any way he could.

You took a breath, trying to open your eyes but the blinding lights of your room and them almost feeling as if they were glued shut from not being open for so long prevented you. You also tried moving your hands, only to feel a warm one rest on top of it, you finally opened your eyes.

“You’re awake,” Tony mumbled, rubbing a thumb on the back of your palm soothingly. “You’re awake and you’re okay.”

“Mr. Stark?” Peter called out, spotting his mentor sitting outside the room where they were doing the final surgery on you. It was his first time visiting, seeing as the knife wound was worse than he thought. “I’m so sorry, I-“

“What happened?” Was the only thing Tony said, not looking up to look at the kid. Peter stood there for a moment but told him everything that happened.

After that and after he made sure you were okay, resting in your room and everything, he let Natasha look after you for the night and headed back to the compound.

The kid would never lie to him but he had to see it all for himself. The Spider-Man suit caught everything through the baby monitor protocol. From when he arrived to the convenient store, when you told him countless of times that you weren’t coming back, and when your drunk self ranted about what you felt.

“What the fuck do I have to do just to feel loved and wanted?”

“He seemed to like both of us equally when we were younger,” you sniffled. “Of course he would, but… my brother just turned out to be special and talented and,” you frowned, “he’s all Tony ever wanted for a kid. Maybe I reminded him of the chick he fucked, I don’t know – must be it, right?”

“Y/N, you’re just as special as-” Peter tried to reason but you threw him a glare. Tony could see the pain and heartbreak in your bloodshot, tired eyes. One that said you didn’t want to hear anything like it anymore. You didn’t want to believe it.

“The thing is, they only want you when you’re gone. Missing. Dead,” you shrugged. “I can take a hint, you know? My only family hates me. My only family doesn’t want me. Now you – all of them – are looking for me… why?” Peter flinched at the loudness of your voice. You truly were broken.

Tony fast forwarded, it didn’t clearly show how you got hit, but he had enough anyway. He wanted to make things right with you. He could only hope that you make pass this, hoping that you’ll let him make it up to you.

“It’s not too late, you know,” Steve said from the entrance to his lab. “Y/N is strong. She’ll make it.”

“Why am I not dead?” You croaked, looking at your father with an anxious expression. You letting out another shaky breath as you struggled to move and look around. “I should be dead. Why am I here-”

“Take it easy-”

“Don’t you understand?” You felt your throat aching, breath quickening. “I don’t want to be here!”

“No, you’re okay. Y/N you’re okay,” Tony tried to calm you down when he saw the lines in your heart monitor go up and down in rapid pace.

“I’m not - no I’m not - not okay,” you struggled to let out. It felt like you were choking on your own breath, getting harder and harder to breathe by the minute, soon tears started to prick your eyes. “I don’t want to be here!”

“Tony, what's going on?” Steve bursted into the room with an alarmed but calm expression.

“Call Strange. Anyone.” He told the captain but his eyes never left you. He rubbed a part of your arm that wasn’t injured soothingly in attempt to calm you down. “Just breathe for me, okay? I’m here and you’re okay.”

Something about the softness and encouraging look in his eyes made you nod eventually and follow his breathing patterns. He held a glass of water for you to drink, holding your struggling hand softly to get it out of the way.

He’s never looked at you like that before.

Most of the time he ignored you, most of the time he looked at you at anger or annoyance when you’ve fucked something up.

“There we go, we okay now?” You looked away and nodded lightly. That was enough for him. Tony wanted to let you know how sorry he was so bad, but thought against it, at least for now. He was scared you might start freaking out again.

Stephen entered the room with the doctor, the other Avengers following closely behind. The amount of people in the room overwhelmed you a bit, but you were strangely calm because of how your father’s acting. Soft and caring, it made you feel safe.

Both doctors concluded that you had some sort of amnesia. In English, your past memories were blotchy, all of them even from your childhood. Again because of the blow to the head it was already expected. But you remembered the recent ones clearly, which was the reason why you avoided looking at Peter and his patched up arm.

Which also meant it was possible you didn’t remember all of the pain you felt concerning your family. It was unfair on your part.

Strange insisted that you stay a few more days, or one more week, just to run tests and make sure you get enough medicine and stuff.

They decided to see how bad your memory loss was.

“I did that to you,” you still refused to look at Peter completely. “I’m sorry, Peter.”

“I’m just glad you’re okay.” Peter gave you a smile.

You moved to the next person. Red hair, seemed to give off a friendly but civil nature. “Natasha? You’re Natasha.”

The Russian merely smiled and crossed her arms.

“Steve,” you stated, moving to the next person. “You always read old books in the kitchen.”

Steve chuckled, nodding to confirm.

“Ethan,” you smiled as you looked at your twin. He gave you a small wave even if he felt as guilty as Tony about everything even if he wasn’t the one to blame.

You stared longer at the next person, almost shoulder length dark brown hair, he’s wearing a jacket to cover his metal arm but you knew it was still there.

“Ducky?”

Peter let out a giggle, so did you brother.

“It’s Bucky, doll,” Bucky smiled, covering his face with his hand to suppress a chuckle as the rest laughed.

“Oh, right, I’m sorry,” you let out a weak giggle yourself.

You meet Tony’s eyes again, the softness still there.

“Dad,” you stated. “You’re my dad. Tony.”

No, you didn’t completely forget how he treated you. You knew he was annoyed with you, which lead you to think that you did something that made him act that way. “Am I bad?”

Tony’s hopeful expression dimmed. “What do you mean, sweetheart?”

You shrugged. “You’re mad at me, I just… I guess it’s just not clear on why.”

Steve thought it would be best for everyone to head out for a bit so he ushered everyone out of the room except for your brother who took a seat at the corner.

“About that, it’s about time we talked, yeah?” Tony sat on a chair backwards beside your bed. It made you nervous, but you were reassured. “You’re not in trouble, don’t worry.”

He exhaled, resting an arm on the top rail. “You deserve so much better. I should’ve treated you better,” you opened your mouth to ask but he continued. “Look, I haven’t been fair with you and it’s a problem. You’re smart, talented and beautiful. I figured you needed to hear it more often because it’s true. What I’m trying to say is, I’m sorry. I really am.”

Your bottom lip involuntarily trembled. “You – you really mean that?”

“From the bottom of my heart.”

You sighed, a genuine smile plastered on your face. “Thank you. And I’m sorry if I was a pain in the ass-“

“You never were,” Tony shook his head. “You always did your best and I really should have acknowledged it more. Give me a second chance?”

“Of course.”

Tony smiled, getting up and planting a gentle kiss to your forehead.

Everything in life was so much better after all that. Tony treated you and Ethan equally, same goes for Peter. The other Avengers were nicer, not the kind of nice that was almost fake, but it was genuine. All of them were. And you were thankful.

----

TAGLIST: @contanto-que-voce-me-queira @angeldreineedshelp @legendarymcnuggies @zoeyserpentluck @vienmiaprendere @alainabooks143 @hessogxlden

DID ANYONE MISS ME? BC I MISSED THIS PLACE

I highly doubt anyone’s still waiting for this, it was an unplanned hiatus I’M SO SORRY but I decided to post anyway :))

also I hope this wasn’t underwhelming, that’s one of the reasons why I was hesitant to do this but I hope its good heh (I’ve included the parts from my first post as well, just so it feels like a full fic)

WAIT I ALSO HIT 300 FOLLOWERS? INSANE. THANK YOU. I MEAN IT.

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bitsandbobsofwriting · 3 years ago

Text

Leon brings Merlin and Lancelot in on his underground enterprise;

Turns out, Leon is the biggest Magic Ally out there. Confusion, bonding, and sneaky hijinks ensue.

I imagine it starts fairly normally.

The Gang (King Arthur, Merlin, and the five knights) have literally just arrived back at the castle after a fairly uneventful hunt (I mean... nowadays, getting attacked by bandits only once in three days counts as uneventful).

Merlin is left behind to help the stablehands untack the horses, like usual, except he leaves the stables half a candle mark later to find Leon awkwardly loitering around outside, the evening dimming around him.

He thinks maybe the First Knight had gotten injured, and was too embarrassed to ask for help in front of everyone (something that is common in all of the knights. Merlin thinks it’s very stupid, and has told all of them this at least once), so doesn’t question it when Leon asks Merlin for a quick word, and leads him back to his quarters.

Leon locks the door behind him. Not unusual, the man was very private. It’s when he puts a chair in front of the door and draws the curtains, that Merlin starts to get a little nervous. He’d cast a small enchantment on one of the bandits, to make him confused enough to trip over his own feet (as opposed to skewering Elyan, which is what he’d been about to do) but Merlin was certain that no one had seen him. He was certain.

And... Leon was a knight. He’d been a knight for longer than Arthur had been King, longer than he’d even known Merlin. Surely if he saw... he would've said something, accused him or just killed him.

(He has to remind himself to have a little faith in his friends. But also: “This might be completely unrelated, so just act natural.”)

Leon turns around to look at Merlin, and instantly recognises how nervous the younger man is, despite his poor attempt to hide it. The knight keeps his distance, and gives him a slow nod:

“I just wanted to let you know, Merlin, if you ever need... ah, a way out of the city, unseen, at short notice, then I can sort something for you.”

At that, all of Merlin’s racing, terrifying thoughts, stutter to a stop, and he looks at Leon with nothing but confusion on his face. He tilts his head slightly, asking, ever so eloquently:

“...What?”

Leon sends a soft smile and a knowing wink his way:

“Or, you know, the back up of a noble in court, or an alibi, I can do that to. I have a feeling that, considering you haven’t done a runner yet, you’re planning on sticking around.”

Merlin just furrows his eyebrows, shaking his head slightly in bewilderment:

“I... Leon I have no idea what you’re talking about. What do you mean, done a runner? Why would I need your help in court or... or an alibi??”

Leon just raises an eyebrow, and tilts his head.

Merlin copies him.

A look of realisation crosses the blonde’s face, and he lifts his hands in surrender:

“Ah. Ok, before I say anything else, I promise Merlin, you are entirely safe. I would protect you with my life if I had to-”

Merlin slowly nods, still confused:

“-I know about your magic.”

Merlin gasps and steps back, but Leon just smiles at him again, nodding his head slightly; it does nothing to relax the servant, and his breathing continues to get deeper as he backs himself against the wall, tears filling his eyes.

Leon frowns, his heart cracking slightly, but resists the protective urge to walk towards Merlin to comfort him. Instead he takes a step back, not lowering his hands. Before he can open his mouth to utter more reassurances, a tirade of broken, cracking apologies fall from Merlin’s lips:

“I... Leon I swear I’m not evil, I... I don’t hurt people, I promise. Please, you... please believe me, I would NEVER-”

Leon interrupts him, shaking his head rapidly, and forcing a reassuring smile on his face:

“I know. Merlin, I know that. I know you’re not evil, I know that you use it to protect us, I know. It’s ok, I won’t tell anyone, you’re not in danger, I would NEVER hurt you, or tell anyone, ok? I swear it. You’re safe with me.”

Merlin gulps, but relaxes (only slightly, but it’s a start. Leon doesn’t know why he’s so surprised at Merlin’s reaction, I suppose he thought he had been clear in his brotherly affection and protectiveness towards the younger man. Apparently not; he would have to fix that). He gives Leon an assessing once over, and it strikes the knight how efficient he is. He wonders how many times Merlin’s eyes have flicked over someone: checking their face for any sign of deception, checking how close their hands are to a weapon, checking their stance to see if they’re preparing for a fight.

Leon stays in place, forcing himself to untense, and giving Merlin a weak smile, hoping that the servant doesn’t mistake his slight heartbreak for fear or anger.

After a few moments, Merlin relaxes even further (though is still understandably ready to bolt at a moment’s notice), and steps away from the wall, Leon’s smile widens, and he nods once again, patiently waiting for Merlin to say something:

“You... you offered to smuggle me out of the city?”

Leon nods, glancing to the door behind him before gesturing Merlin to keep his voice down as he replies cryptically:

“You wouldn’t be the first.”

The servant gulps, giving the knight an assessing gaze, magic buzzing under his skin, alert and frightened at the idea of a Red Knight other than Lancelot knowing the truth:

“You’ve smuggled others out?”

Leon nods and moves ever so slowly to sit on the edge of his bed, still holding his hands up placatingly. He doesn’t gesture for Merlin to join him, understanding the other man’s remaining jumpiness, but leaves space next to him, just in case.

Merlin hesitates for only a second before settling on the bed next to him, forcing himself to relax. The knight wasn’t currently armed, and anyway, if Leon had been planning on accusing him or attacking him, then he wouldn’t be doing this. None of what he said could, in any way, make sense as some sort of trick.

Once Merlin settles, still a little uneasy, Leon begins his explanation in a quiet voice, obviously still worried about startling Merlin (and obviously not wanting to risk someone overhearing him):

“It started when I was fifteen. One of the serving girls in my father’s household was born with magic, though it didn’t manifest until years after the purge started. She was my age, sweet, kind, I couldn’t possibly believe her to be evil or corrupt, but under The King’s law, she would’ve been burned. Poor girl was terrified of being found out, but Uther was so paranoid, they were basically interrogating anyone who entered or exited the city; she had nowhere to go. I had already started my training at this point, so I used my knowledge of guard rotations and shift changes to sneak her out. I left her with some family in a village nearer the border, snuck back in a few days later. From then on it just... kept happening. I suppose I got good at recognising the specific brand of fear that magic-users in Camelot suffer from, and I’ve got a good eye; I know magic when I see it-”

He gives Merlin a knowing look, but the servant just turns indignant and says:

“Well, I was also born with magic, and it took you ten years to figure it out, so-”

He sticks his tongue out at the knight, and Leon raises his eyebrow at him, before laughing and nodding, thankful for Merlin’s lessening fear:

“-yeah, I suppose. But still. It started off with just the occasional person; one or two a month. And then it was whole families or groups of people who either had magic, or were scared of being accused and wanted out. It became a bit of a side-career, though I always refused any payment they offered.”

Merlin stares at him, thoughtful and in awe, before yet another look of realisation crosses his face:

“Is this why the Druids are so fond of you?”

Finally, it’s Leon’s turn to look confused, and Merlin continues:

“Whenever we come across them, they always seem less wary of you than the other knights, like they know what you’ve done.”

Leon takes in slow breath, quirking his eyebrows slightly and shrugging:

“I’ve never really noticed, maybe. I’ve never been into a camp, but when someone I was sneaking out had nowhere to go, I’d take them as close to a Druid settlement as I dared, and pointed them in the right direction; I suppose word might’ve spread.”

Merlin nods, looking to his lap, thinking. Leon stays silent, understanding that this is probably a lot to take in, and not wanting to interrupt Merlin’s processing time.

After a few moments, Merlin, still staring into his lap, reaches across to Leon and takes the knight’s hand in a shaking one of his own. It’s then that Leon notices the slow tears on the other man’s face, but before he can say anything, Merlin looks up at him, his voice shaking as he whispers a rough:

“Thank you.”

Leon smiles, squeezing his hand and bumping their shoulders together:

“Anytime. Like I said Merlin, I would protect you with my life. If you ever need anything...”

Merlin takes a deep breath, standing and wiping the tears from his face quickly before dragging Leon to the door:

“There is one thing. Come on.”

Leon allows himself to be dragged, and Merlin moves the chair to the side before stepping out of the way, allowing Leon to unlock the door with the key hanging around his neck. He doesn’t question where they’re going, though he is slightly confused when he notices that they’re heading deeper into the castle, as opposed to outside or to Merlin’s chambers like he was expecting.

They finally come to a stop outside Lancelot’s door, and Leon nods to himself in realisation. He had suspected that the other knight had known the truth, but hadn’t wanted to ask or push it in case he was wrong.

Merlin knocks rapidly after checking the corridor for other people, and the door had barely been opened before he’s pushing his way through, still dragging Leon behind him. The two men move to stand by the opposite wall, Lancelot still by the door looking increasingly confused:

“Merlin, Leon, is... is everything alright?”

Merlin waves his hand casually, not even needing an incantation as his eyes flash briefly gold and the door shuts of it’s own accord (... or Merlin’s accord).

Lancelot immediately gasps and makes a jump for the sword sat on the table, but Leon holds his hands up in surrender as Merlin rushes to speak:

“Lance it’s fine!! Leon knows about my magic, and he’s been smuggling people out of Camelot for decades, he’s safe.”

Lancelot looks to Leon with a mix of suspicion and relief, still picking the sword up and holding it loosely in one hand, but the older knight is too distracted staring at Merlin in mild outrage:

“Dec- How old do you think I am, Merlin?!”

Merlin looks up at him guiltily, and Lancelot lets go of his suspicion, instead clamping his free hand over his mouth to stop himself from laughing at Merlin’s squeaked reply:

“Uh... there’s no safe way to answer that, is there? You said you were fifteen when you started, and I know you’re older than Arthur, so...”

Leon scoffs, rolling his eyes as Lancelot snorts:

“I’m only five years older than him, Merlin. I’m thirty-one, you can say “decades” plural when I hit thirty-five, and not a day sooner.”

Merlin holds in a smirk, and nods. Lancelot clears his throat, dropping the sword back on the table and asking the obvious question:

“So... how much does he know?”

Merlin spends the rest of the night explaining everything, from Kilgharrah calling to him when he first arrived, (”You mean that thing was under the castle the whole time?!”) to just last week, when he had to sneak out of the city to deal with a particularly insatiable Succubus that was causing problems with the border patrols (”Huh. I wondered why the men had just... stopped disappearing. I’m not complaining though, thank you.”).

He included all the information about the prophecies and being Emrys and how Arthur was the Once and Future King and the coming (potential) Golden Age. Leon was especially curious about that, and interrupted often to ask questions.

Lancelot also interrupted rather often, but only to correct Merlin when he underappreciated his own genius or power or selflessness, much to Merlin’s embarrassment and annoyance.

Merlin also tried to miss out as much of his own suffering as he could, but Lancelot wasn’t having it, and Leon was horrified to learn of the Serket sting, the countless, almost fatal fights he’d had with various people (Nimueh, The Cailleach (”I did also wonder how the veil just... repaired itself. Nice one.”), Morgause, Agravaine, etc (Morgana is good in this, though her magic is still hidden)), and all the other terrible things that had happened.

When he finally finishes, Leon is speechless.

The knight had just thought that Merlin had learned a few tricks to keep himself and Arthur safe when they went out and about, but he was actually, apparently, the most powerful Warlock ever, and had a whole series of prophecies and battle scars to back it up. Lancelot’s face was an odd mix of prideful and mournful, and that only drove home to Leon how much Merlin had suffered over the years.

After a few minutes of silence, Merlin awkwardly waiting, as if for judgement, Lancelot pipes up, his voice oddly cheery:

“So, Sir Leon, fancy two extra sets of hands in the little smuggling ring you’ve got going?”

And that is essentially... exactly what happens.

It’s usually Leon who discovers the sorcerers, being the most observant of the three, but it’s Merlin they send on the first approach more often than not. Leon had always been painfully aware of how scary a Camelot Knight going “I know you have magic” must be, so the trio takes advantage of Merlin’s non-threatening look. That, paired with the fact that he’s well known and well loved around the town, makes starting things off a lot easier.

A lot of the time, the people they approach don’t want to leave. They’ve kept themselves hidden for over twenty years, and they plan to continue to do so, but it’s a weight off their back to know that the option is there if they need it.

Merlin introduces Leon to the tunnels under the city, hidden and warded with his magic. The older knight is very much relieved at that; taking advantage of gaps in guard rotations wasn’t the most reliable plan, and he’d been paranoid for years that something would go wrong one day and he’d get caught.

They worked well together, though all three of their lives got a lot more complicated. Lancelot and Merlin were pulled into Leon’s secret smuggling life (despite him insisting that they could sit it out, considering they were already so busy trying to keep Arthur alive, which is apparently a lot harder than Leon had first assumed), and Leon was pulled into Merlin and Lancelot’s secret “bring about the Golden Age” life (despite the two of them insisting that Leon didn’t need to help, considering he was already so busy running a smuggling ring right under the nose of the King).

To be honest, the two lives sort of swirled together. Anyone that they sent to the Druid camps was told to spread the word of the Once and Future King, and when Leon was sent to distract Arthur when Lancelot and Merlin needed to do something Magicky, Lancelot was sent to distract Arthur when Leon and Merlin needed to do something smuggly.

Eventually Gaius finds out. Because of course he does. Because he’s not stupid. And whilst the three of them are unwilling to put him in anymore danger than he’s already in (harbouring a Warlock is... pretty dangerous. Though Arthur would probably forgive the older man anything.), they never turn away the small, portable medkits he passes along to them, and don’t complain when he offers to talk to Arthur about a promising new treatment for the flu for a few hours.

But overall, they have a proper little (unpaid) enterprise going, and no one suspects a thing.

Mistakes are made of course, some a little bigger that others. But most of them get a laugh from the trio when they think back on them later.

Ironically enough, this mistake came when the trio mistook a “need to save Arthur” problem, for a “need to save this poor scared sorcerer” problem.

They’d been getting complacent. No one had tried to kill Arthur directly in a while, so when a visiting Lord brought with him a very nervous, very secretive stablehand, they didn’t even consider that it would be the young servant who wanted to kill Arthur as opposed to the visiting noble (who was an arsehole, and therefor automatically under suspicion).

Merlin, being the most powerful of the three of them, was keeping an eye on the noble; trying to keep him away from Arthur as well as trying to figure out if he knew that his stablehand was a magic-user. Leon was distracting Arthur, with the help of a report Gaius had written, by talking endlessly about certain weaknesses in the knight’s armour and the injuries that Gaius treats most often and the link between the two.

That left Lancelot to trail the stablehand, whose name they had discovered was Alban. He wasn’t wearing any armour and didn’t have a sword, only a small dagger up his sleeve, so as not to frighten the boy.

Which of course was a huge mistake.

Considering how innocent Merlin looks, but how dangerous he actually is, they really shouldn’t have underestimated the boy, but alas, with how well both of the secret lives had been going, their egos had grown, and they weren’t as careful as they should’ve been.

It was only after the Lord had retired to his chambers (and Merlin had come to the annoying conclusion that he was an arsehole, but certainly not smart enough to be dangerous), and Leon had exhausted every possible line of enquiry about armour and injuries, that the two of them thought something might be wrong.

It had been hours since they had heard from Lancelot, and by the sounds of it, no one had seen him in that time either.

The stablehand also couldn’t be found.

They tried not to assume the worst; all of them (Merlin, most often) had disappeared for longer before, so before they panicked, the two of them went about methodically searching for the other knight.

The wards down in the tunnels hadn’t been disturbed, Lancelot’s room was untouched (the sight of his armour and sword laid out on his bed did nothing to quell their growing anxiety), and no one had seen him leave the city. The Camelot stablehands had no idea where the visiting servant was, and had apparently barely seen him in the stables since he’d arrived anyway.

Now it was time to panic.

The two men rushed back to Lancelot’s room, shutting the door behind them, Merlin hurriedly asking:

“What’s the last thing he touched, do you reckon?”

Leon raked his hands through his hair for the dozenth time, looking around with wide eyes:

“Uh... we had training this morning, and he took his armour off after that, and immediately went to follow Alban, so his armour? His sword?”

Merlin picks the sword up in careful but hurried hands. He closes his eyes, concentrating, as he mutters a quick spell. The sword shimmers for a moment before Merlin throws it back down on the bed with a huff:

“Nope, the trail is there but it’s weak, I need something more recent.”

Leon curses quietly to himself:

“Try his water goblet? Or the wash bowl? God knows that man doesn’t like to be grimy.”

Merlin hums, walking to the wash bowl before halting in his tracks:

“Wait... no, you’re right. He doesn’t like being dirty,-”

With that, Merlin changes direction, heading to the small desk in the corner and opening the draws at random, rifling through them. Leon walks up behind him:

“Merlin? What are you-”

He’s interrupted by Merlin exclaiming in victory, and straightening up. He turns around with a grin on his face, holding out a small comb:

“-he will have run a comb through his hair after washing,-”

He pulls a short, brunette hair from between the wooden teeth:

“-and an actual piece of him is WAY better to track him with than something he’s just touched.”

He repeats the spell from earlier, the smile returning to his face when he begins to feel the pull in his heart, leading him to the lost knight.

The two of them leave the room hurriedly, Leon trailing after Merlin, both of them trying to look an inconspicuous as possible.

They walk briskly down the corridor, hope and excitement blooming in their chests at the idea of finding the friend they’d been so worried about. Leon puts a hand on Merlin’s shoulder, but neither of them stop moving as he speaks lowly:

“Can you tell how far away he is?”

Merlin hums, before replying equally quietly:

“Yeah, I think he’s about... actually... no, no I can’t- what?”

With that, he stops dead in his tracks, stumbling when Leon runs into his back with a gentle “oof”. The knight looks down at him, his face back to looking panicked. They’d stopped at a crossroads in the corridor, and Merlin’s head twitches from side to side, like he can’t decide which way to go.

Leon shakes his shoulder slightly:

“Merlin, he’s been gone for hours, we need to hurry. Close your eyes, breathe, which way is Lancelot?”

Merlin does what Leon says, shuffling on his feet slightly before closing his eyes, taking a deep breath, and relaxing his shoulders:

“Where are you, Lance?”

He mutters it quietly to himself, and Leon barely dares to breathe, not wanting to distract him. After a few moments, Merlin’s head twitches to the right, the corridor that leads to the servant quarters. The servant opens his eyes, nodding briefly at Leon, before turning and walking down the corridor.

He passes the first few doors without hesitation, thankful for the late hour; all the servants are either eating their own dinner, or serving dinner to their masters. Which is probably where Merlin should be right now, but he had more pressing matters, he could deal with Arthur later.

He slows as he reaches the end of the corridor, frowning in confusion. There are no more doors, they’ve reached a dead end, and Merlin tilts his head whilst Leon stares at him expectantly, periodically checking the corridor behind them. Merlin begins muttering to himself again, flexing his hands as if he were in pain:

“This is... wrong. I don’t come down here very often but... there’s... this is wrong. I can feel it and I can... see it, like there’s something out the corner of my eye that shouldn’t be there-”

He gasps, turning and looking at a specific part of the wall, hovering his hand over the stonework:

“-or something that should be there!”

Leon’s gaze flicks between the wall and Merlin as he quietly asks:

“A hidden door? Can you... unhide it?”

Merlin takes a second to snort and roll his eyes, before pressing his hand against the wall, muttering spells to himself. Leon turns around, hand on the hilt of his sword at his hip as he stands guard. After a few minutes of Merlin getting more and more frustrated when the wall stays... well... a wall, he finally lets out a whispered exclamation; Leon glances behind him to see the stone rippling, and finally fading to reveal the door.

With one last check down the corridor, they enter the room slowly, shutting the door behind him. Leon whispers Lance’s name into the darkness tentatively, but Merlin just shakes his head, summoning a light.

It’s just a normal storage room filled with dusty shelves and empty crates, but Merlin moves through the debris to the back, cursing under his breath when he finds what he’s looking for. Leon moves up behind him, staring over the younger man’s shoulder to the precise symbol drawn onto the floor:

“Merls?”

Merlin huffs speaking lowly, not looking away from the symbol:

“It’s a teleportation spell, it’s why I was being pulled in two directions. Lance went through this portal, but it probably took him somewhere outside the city limits.”

Leon gulps, before taking a deep breath and gripping Merlin’s shoulder again:

“Can you activate it? Do we follow through the portal, or track him out of the city??”

Merlin shakes his head roughly:

“No, that would take far too long, we don’t actually know how long he’s been gone, it could have been all afternoon, remember? Look around, there should be a crystal or an orb or something, like a switch I have to push magic into to activate the spell.”

It only takes a few minutes of rummaging for Leon to uncover a rough looking crystal, and Merlin smiles weakly at the comically fearful look on the knight’s face as he holds it as far away from himself as he can; he may trust Merlin’s magic, but he is still logically... unnerved by things he doesn’t understand.

Merlin takes it from him, eyes turning briefly gold as he mutters an incantation and his hand is engulfed in a blue flame. The flame dies down after a few seconds at Merlin’s command, and he hides the now glowing crystal back where Leon had found it, before looking back to the symbol on the floor.

It takes only a few moments for the lines to start softly glowing, and when nothing else changes, Merlin takes a deep breath, reaching behind him blindly for Leon’s hand, and muttering:

“Well, here goes nothing.”

He feels the knight take his hand and step up next to him. With one last nervous glance to each other, they nod, and step into the circle.

MEANWHILE

Thankfully, whilst Lancelot hadn’t been seen in a while (on account of being camped out in the hidden storage room, waiting for his stalkee to reappear out of the weird glowy circle thing), he had only actually been kidnapped by Evil Alban the Not-Stablehand for about half a candle mark.

And he was currently very bored. The younger man finally reappeared, only to fly into a rage at the sight of another man, crouched like a gremlin, almost asleep in the corner of the entrance to his secret lair.

His eyes had flashed sickly yellow, and Lancelot found himself falling over the edge into sleep, and waking up an undetermined amount of time (like five minutes, but it was so fucking dark where he was, he had no way to guess what time of day it was) later, tied to a chair (not gagged, thankfully).

He had realised the trio’s mistake fairly early on in Evil Alban the Not-Stablehand’s monologue; something about vengeance and sins of the father and yadda yadda yadda. Honestly? He tuned it out pretty quickly, he’d heard it all before... multiple times, and he wasn’t too worried; he had faith that Merlin and Leon would arrive to rescue him soon (though he wasn’t looking forward to all the comments along the lines of “who’s the real princess?”).

It was when he almost nodded off that Alban stuttered slightly:

“...after all, surely someone who is strong enough to take the crown should... should deserve... it... are you falling asleep?!”

Lancelot’s head whips up with a quiet snort as he blinks the sleep from his eyes, and looks at the outraged criminal with guilt in his eyes:

“Uh... no? You’re doing wonderfully, Alban, very riveting, keep going.”

The knight’s words do nothing to calm the other man down, and he exclaims slightly as he stamps his foot petulantly. Lancelot bites his lip to stop himself laughing, but before he can get himself under control and say something else, Alban puffs his chest out and grins triumphantly:

“Your mind games shan’t work on me, Sir Knight. I will not be distracted by your mocking or... or distractions.”

Lancelot raises an eyebrow, but doesn’t say anything. Alban huffs, shaking his head roughly before looking back at Lancelot with wide, expectant eyes:

“Well? What do you think of my plan, noble Sir? Ineffable, no?”

Lancelot purses his lips, once again looking guilty as he chooses not to point out the younger’s misuse of the word ineffable (definitely NOT ineffable, considering he’d banged on and on for half a candle-mark):

“I don’t suppose you could... sum up the last twenty minutes or so worth of... plan? Then I could.... let you know my thoughts?”

Alban let out an inhuman screech, stamping his foot again, much to Lancelot’s hidden amusement. The Great Villain stalked off into the darkness, huffing and grumbling to himself, and Lancelot just rolled his eyes, murmuring under his breath:

“For fucks sake. Better not leave me here. Where the fuck are you guys?”

As if the Gods themselves answered the knight’s question, he hears another inhuman screech come from the darkness; though this one was a lot more high pitched, and was immediately followed by Leon’s unmistakable voice growling out:

“Where is he you pre-pubescent piece of shit?!”

Lancelot allows himself to snort at the likely look of terror on the Not-Stablehand’s face before yelling:

“Don’t make the kid shit himself Leon, if he does, you’ll be the one carrying his unconscious body back.”

He hears Merlin’s laugh and the distinct sound of a skull making contact with the hilt of a sword, before the two of them appear like ghosts, lit only by the glow of Merlin’s golden eyes, and the magical light floating between their heads.

Lancelot gives them a grin, shuffling in his binds slightly as he says:

“Took you long enough, he’s been banging on about how clever he is for fucking ages. Cut me loose, would you?”

Merlin clicks his fingers, the ropes falling the the floor as Leon checks him over for injury, and affectionately ruffling his hair, much to the other knight’s chagrin.

The three of them move to crowd around Alban’s crumpled form, hands on their hips as they stare at him, unimpressed. Lancelot sighs:

“You really didn’t have to hit him that hard, I don’t think he was that much of a threat.”

Merlin huffs and stalks off to reactivate the teleportation spell, leaving the chastising for Leon to deal with:

“Not much of a threat?! Lance no one had seen you in hours, we thought you were dead!”

Lancelot frowns and shuffles, suddenly looking apologetic:

“Ah, sorry. He took me less than a candle-mark ago, though I guess I lost track of how long I’d been sat waiting for him before that. I didn’t mean to worry you.”

Leon huffs, but drops the subject as Merlin calls back to them. The curly-hired knight picks Alban up, laying him over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes before following Lancelot in Merlin’s direction. They stand around the glowing symbol, and Lancelot rolls his eyes at Merlin’s glower:

“Oh, don’t give me that look, Mister I regularly show up after three days covered in bruises and blood with “The Tavern” as my only excuse.”

Leon snorts and Merlin rolls his eyes but smirks, and with that, the trio step into the circle, reappearing back in the storage cupboard with no one else in Camelot even vaguely aware of the mini adventure they’d had.

This happens for a while. Saving people (mostly Arthur) from the batshit insane things that happen in Camelot that no one but them seems to be aware of.

Of course, rumours fly about the oddly close connection the three men have. Lancelot is head over heals in love with Guinevere (which he ardently denies, despite Merlin and Leon’s repeated dramatic attempts to get them together) and everyone knows it, but even Arthur starts to (jealously) suspect something is going on between Leon and Merlin, especially when Merlin’s lack of talent when it comes to making up excuses is displayed yet again.

Leon and Merlin had been sneaking out of the castle, on their way to meet the teenage son of a noble who desperately needed to escape. Lancelot, who had a late patrol, was to meet them by one of the tunnel entrances outside the city limits, and assure that no other guards were nearby.

Unfortunately, the pair came across a sleepy King, on his way to the kitchens for a midnight snack.

The King stared at them with wide, shocked eyes, and the pair stared back. Leon grimaced slightly, and after a few moments of awkward silence, Arthur slowly asks:

“What are you two... doing?”

Leon takes a deep breath desperately trying to come up with something to say, but before he can find an excuse, Merlin pipes up:

“I was teaching him poetry.”

Leon lets out his breath before slowly covering his face with his hands as he shakes his head slightly. Merlin immediately realises his mistake and bites his lip, furrowing his eyebrows as he says:

“What I mean, is that-”

He’s cut off by Arthur holding a hand up, his face looking mildly put-off as he shakes his head:

“I don’t want to know. Yeah, I changed my mind, I really... don’t want to know.” Before turning around and heading back in the same direction he’d come from, hunger forgotten.

Merlin holds his breath until Arthur turns the corner, before letting it all out in one go and staring at the floor wide-eyed. Leon keeps his head in his hands as he mutters:

“You fucking idiot.-” before looking up at the man besides him incredulously:

“-Why??”

Merlin looks at him indignantly, and loudly whispers:

“I don’t know!! It was just the three of us in a dark corridor like last time and it just popped into my head and I said it! At least he didn’t push, I suppose.”

Leon shakes his head again, before a look of realisation crosses his face and he looks at Merlin with dread in his eyes:

“Yeah... except when you used that excuse on me- shut up, of course I knew you were lying, I’m not an idiot- I thought you and Arthur were uh... well, I thought you were sleeping together...”

Merlin’s eyes go wide and he sputters for a response before he lets out a quiet, deranged laugh, and shakes his blushing head:

“First off, no. Second off... at least he didn’t push.” he repeats. Leon squints at his friend, before he gasps and grins:

“Oh my God, you like him!-”

Merlin scowls at him, and Leon laughs gleefully (though still quietly) before whispering:

“-all this time we’ve been ribbing Lancelot about Guinevere, and we should’ve been ribbing you! Oh my God, wait ‘til Lance hears this.”

Merlin turns on him, face bright red as he angrily (or as angrily as he can, when he’s the colour of Leon’s cape, and the knight is trying not to wake the castle up with his laughter):

“I swear to God, Leon, I will turn you into a fucking toad if you breath a word to anyone! I’ll do it, I swear I’ll do it!”

Leon forces himself to breath and coughs slightly as he catches his breath, putting a hand on Merlin’s shoulder:

“Fine, fine. I won’t say anything, but only if you help me hang mistletoe up in Lance’s doorway next week.”

Merlin rolls his eyes, but nods his head with a grin, and with that, they resume their sneaking around.

This happens for what feels like years and years, but really, Merlin only gets one day into looking at Leon with a shit-eating grin and saying that the old man has been doing this for “decades”, when suddenly... they don’t have to do it anymore.

Arthur repeals the ban on magic.

And to be honest, it was a complete surprise to everyone. Of course, the whole Kingdom knew that he was more tolerant than his father had ever been; he hadn’t executed anyone in years, and unless accusations were serious or life-threatening, he rarely ordered investigations.

As it turns out, he’d been working on it in secret for months, with only Morgana’s help (not that he knew about her magic, she was just the only person in his life who’d always been vocally against the ban). All the work they’d put in meant that when it came time to present it to the council, all Arthur had to do was hold his head high and say something along the lines of “I am your King, you do this, or you lose your seat.”.

The drafts were so well-worked, so perfect, the council had nothing to argue against, no excuses worth more than a roll of the eyes and a dismissive wave of the hand.

The repeal went through seamlessly, and Arthur was announcing Merlin and Morgana as his Court Sorcerers within a week (after of course a few hours of raging at the lies and deception, in which they defended themselves and each each other with sharp tongues and entirely valid descriptions of their terror, and with Leon and Lancelot stood behind them the whole time ready to pull their swords at a moments notice).

Leon, Lancelot, and Merlin told the King about all their adventures saving his arse, which he floundered at before abashedly thanking them, but they never mentioned the now obsolete smuggling ring they had going.

Of course, there were moments when they missed the excitement of sneaking out at night, the victory of seeing a family off to the Druid’s, or to a safe village, but ultimately they were ecstatic that they weren’t needed in that capacity anymore. It was undeniably a good thing.

Their plan to keep their heroics to themselves failed miserably however, when a crowd of around two-hundred gathered in the courtyard, led by a woman in her mid-thirties who looked mighty familiar to Sir Leon.

The gang met them down there, armed and worried at first, but quickly relaxing when they realised this was the furthest to an attack a group this large could get.

The King led the party, Morgana, Elyan, Gwaine, and Percival to his left, and Merlin, Leon, and Lancelot to his right, Guinevere and Gaius waiting by the castle entrance. It was only when Lancelot gasped, and grabbed Merlin and Leon’s sleeves to point at a specific family near the front of the crowd that they understood. All these people, all these happy, joyful, alive people... were people they’d saved over the years.

The three of them gulped, suddenly teary as more and more of the crowd pointed their way, wide smiles on their faces. They knew that this wasn’t even half the people they had saved (if you include Leon’s sixteen years doing it alone), but still, it was astounding to visually see it.

The familiar woman stepped forward at Arthur’s gesture, and the trio suddenly realise what’s about to happen. “Oh shit.” and variants of the above are muttered by all three as they wait with baited breath. There’s not really anything they can do to stop this:

“Your Highness, firstly I would like to thank you, for accepting my people back into your Kingdom-”

Her voice quietens slightly as she glances to the floor, her eyes filling with tears before she looks up again:

“-many of us haven’t been home in... in a long time, and it’s good to be back.-”

Arthur nods, giving her a smile despite his still growing confusion at the crowd behind her. The woman looks quickly to Leon, giving him a brief smile as he gasps, recognising her. She looks back to the King, raising her voice and her head as she continues:

“-Secondly, I would like to extend an even greater thank-you to Sir Leon, and his two companions, without whom many of us would have died. They risked their lives sneaking us out of the city when your father hunted us, and after, when we were still at risk of execution, but they never stopped, and never gave up. We are but a fraction of the hundreds of people they saved, and we have nothing to offer them but our unending gratitude, and a humble demand that they are rewarded for their service to Camelot’s people. They are heroes to us all, and always will be”

Arthur looks slowly over to a very teary Leon, who doesn’t even glance his way as he stares at the former servant-girl, a weak smile on his face. Merlin and Lancelot meet The King’s gaze in his stead, smiling sheepishly and shrugging as they nod, confirming the woman’s story.

Arthur shakes his head minutely, half proud of his friends, and half annoyed at being caught off guard, before turning back to the woman, the smile back on his face:

“I’m glad to welcome you home, all of you, and I apologise that it took so long for me to right the wrongs committed by this Kingdom. Sir Leon and his companions will indeed be rewarded for their service,-”

At this, Arthur turns to look at the trio, a soft, meaningful smile on his face as he nods at them:

“-and I extend my thanks to them also, for being brave enough to protect my people, when I was not.”

Leon finally meets The King’s gaze, and returns his nod. Merlin and Lancelot each clap him on the back, before the three of them descend into the crowd. A loud cheer goes up around the courtyard, the rest of the knights, Morgana, and Guinevere looking on in shock as the trio greets person after person, accepting thanks and hugs and laughing joyously at the reminder of the good they’d done, despite their fear.

THE END!!

I really loved writing this one😄! Honestly this idea started out as crack, but I’m glad that it ended so wholesomely :)

Same as usual lads, someone wants to write it up properly or extend it, go for it, credit and tag me ✌️

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kaiqarker · 3 years ago

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the watchtower’s lighthouse | stan vogel

pairing: stan vogel x reader

warnings: smut, swearing

summary: months after a disasterous first date with stan vogel, your paths cross once more when you’re lost within the depths of kern canyon national park during a thunderstorm and stan happens to have inherited a shift patrolling from the watchtower.

a/n: back from the dead because of this man. hope y’all enjoy :)

THE SKY EMULATED STAN VOGEL'S morals, consisting of gray unpredictability. If he was within the familiar walls of his assigned cabin, located along the grounds of Kern Canyon National Park, it would be an indication he wouldn't have to do much patrolling. Campers usually stayed put if there was rainfall, sticking to their own site and not off doing God knows what to the land Stan takes pride in preserving. Cascading a thick husk of superiority and knowledge was his favorite thing about the job, which is why he was disappointed he was stuck maintaining the watchtower for tonight.

The surveillance for the watchtower was run by a tight knit schedule of volunteers and the occasional firefighter that needed a change of scenery for a couple days. Needless to say with all the strange occurrences and sightings, there have been less and less people willing to take on the task. And now the duty was bestowed upon the park ranger— at least for tonight. He swore to himself that at sunrise he would be out of there and back to being the persistent, vexing gum stuck to the bottom of everyone's shoe.

Stan now sat in a wobbly chair, feet propped up on the desk and his trusty binoculars in hand. His surroundings were darkening, quicker than they would at his cabin because of the parade of trees towering over the area. He could mostly only see shadows and the outlines of the forest. His paranoia kept him on the lookout, knowing all too well what kind of perilous entities the park harbored, dark secrets he was trusted in keeping.

It was why his body jolted and he nearly fell out of his seat at a sign of movement. His hands itched to drop the binoculars and reunite with the shotgun propped up in the corner. His burst of anxiety was halted, however, once the lenses revealed a person. A wandering, soaked person clearly becoming victim to the thunderstorm that had been periodically easing and worsening for the past two hours.

Stan stood, walking over to the window with his binoculars hanging from the strap around his neck. He easily pried it open and stuck out his head. The drizzle of rain didn't reach him because of the roof stretching out along the perimeter of the watchtower, but he still felt the dip in the temperature. He estimated that it had dropped at least fifteen degrees since the start of the storm, the disappearance of the sun only escalating the drafty change.

He was about to shout down at what is most certainly a woman who had strayed too far from her campsite but then she twisted around, finally noticing the light emitting from up above. Recognization crumbles both of their attentive expressions. She becomes more than a drenched, carmine tank top, huddled body, and ropes of wet hair. He transforms into the exact opposite of a saving grace when his beige uniform and ironically angelic face are perceived.

"Well, well, well. Look who it is. Stalking your ex, eh?" Stan called down to her. The pattern of swift and drawned out words, swirled into a provoking and often mocking Australian accent, reached her ears over the light patter of rainfall.

She sighed, dramatically enough for Stan to see the rise and fall of her diaphragm. She considered turning around and braving the unknown of the wilderness again. If it wasn't for her sore feet and her prediction that she would develop some sort of hyperthermia if she stayed out in the cold, then she would've already been on her way.

"We went out on one date. You don't count as an ex," she clarified, craning her neck up at him. His smirk from knowing she was in a miserable condition and that he was the only one that could do anything about it ignited the first sense of heat she had felt in awhile. Her fists clenched against her crossed arms. "And you're the one with the pervy binoculars. On the prowel for half-naked campers, are you?"

He scoffed, winding his head to the side for a moment. "Enough with the bullshit. Are you coming up or not?"

In any other situation, he probably would've dragged their reunion out, teased her for being so helpless and naive. But she was shivering and looked so small curling into herself; it was a sight that played his heartstrings like a mystical harp. Even after a date gone wrong and the resentment that followed, he couldn't bare to see her like this.

She, on the other hand, still clung to some hesitation. Cozying up in a small, confined space with Stan where there were no other people around to ground her into the realms of sanity wasn't a compelling option. The both of them simply didn't get along. The nightmare of their date was very vivid in her mind, too, and she didn't want tonight to be a repeat of that.

Almost like nature could sense her doubts, thunder crackled and reverberated around the forest. Lightning flashed, incandescent and forbiding. The rain intensified, hitting her bare skin with a harsh force. Muddy shoes stumble forward a few steps but still don't gravitate towards the ladder.

"Better move your ass, sweetheart! Unless you'd prefer to get struck by lightning? Not to mention all the dangerous things lurking around that you haven't the slightest idea about."

Undeniable complacency was weaved into his taunt. However, it did get her moving. If she would've bothered to look up or if there wasn't such vast distance between them from their differing heights, she might've seen the concern nestled into glimmering, cobalt eyes.

Suffering through a climb where her wobbly legs and white knuckles were put the use, she eventually made it to top. Stan already had the latch swung open, bent down in the center of the room and waiting for her with an outstretched arm. Reluctantly, she took his offered hand and allowed him to pull her inside the watchtower.

"Crickey, you're freezing," he murmured. There was a softness to his features and the low timber of his voice. He'd even began rubbing over her fingers with his own, attempting to summon some warmth back into him, before he realized what he was doing and backed away.

"That's what happens when you get lost and separated from your friends and then get caught up in a storm," she summed up, monotonous.

"Your friends are idiots," Stan muttered.

She was about to deter the insults back his way until she suddenly felt a subtle weight on her shoulders. The scent combination of spearmint gum and lingering campfire smoke was sensed with a mere sniffle, and soon her hands were reaching up to pull on the sage green trim of his coat.

"You don't even know them," she settled for saying.

"They let you get lost, didn't they?" Stan's eyes found her wide ones, squinting slightly in familiar anger, but she could tell—this time at least—it wasn't directed towards her. "Yeah, bunch of mates, they are."

It was her turn to break the intimacy blossoming between them. She disconnects their stare that was inevitably going to convey all the unspoken feelings that still flourished inside of her to spare a glance over his shoulder. The furnace filled with a burning stack of dry wood lures her away from Stan, and she kneels down in front of it.

His hands go to his belt, elbows bent outward like he was posing as a chicken. He was unsettled by how consumed he was by his emotions. He wanted to give her space but then he finds himself reaching for her. He wanted to remain civil but the distaste in her tone and her infuriating, unreasonable glare casted towards him causes him to delve into his own hostile urges. The confusion of what to do and how to deal with her presence was boardering on insufferable.

But facing her, watching her beneath the firelight, the strain of his internal compass ebbed. He was no longer directionless or purposeless. The orange glare enducing a riveting shine to her hair and her tranquil countenance she upheld gazing into the flames had him feeling certain in just about every single thing that made the universe, the universe.

"You're staring," she whispers, a tremble in her reply she blames on recovering from the weather.

"And you won't even look over at me for a second." His observation coaxes her into peering at him, finding that he enclosed the distance between them by a few steps. A playful smile twitches across his lips. "What? Don't like a man in uniform?"

"I wouldn't be bragging about your outfit, Stan. You're a glorified Boy Scout," she remarks, rising from her position on her knees. Her thumb and pointer finger pinch the small, golden slate pinned to his shirt. "Even have badges and everything,"

"Get your grubby little hands away from my name tag. You're gonna smudge it," he grumbles, smacking her hand away; she lets out a humorless, short-lived laugh at his overreaction.

"Still an uptight asshole, I see."

"Still a mouthy brat, then?"

His retort makes her face harden. "Being honest doesn't make me a mouthy brat."

"Just inconsiderate?"

"You're preaching to me about being inconsiderate? You live off of ridiculing people. On our date, you insulted and humiliated our waiter because he didn't know the exact species of deer mounted to the wall."

"I was just taking a moment to educate him!"

"You called him a fumbling idiot who didn't know the basic fundamentals of biology!"

"Oh, like you were any better! Shoving your tits into the bartender's face to get free drinks!" He throws his hands up, easily overtaken by frustration and unresolved jealously.

"I know how much you make, Stan. You should be thanking me for that," she says slowly, deliberately, bringing up the one thing she knows will push him over the edge. He takes the bait, but she doesn't expect what he throws back at her.

"You're right. Thank you, sweetheart, for acting like such a slut on our first date that all anyone had to do for dessert was crouch down between your open legs."

Her mouth dropped at his statement. His exasperation dissolves to shock at processing his own harsh comment. He isn't able to focus on it for long, though, because she properly acts by allowing her palm to connect to his cheek.

Head snapped to the side, he can begin to taste a droplet of blood on his tongue, emitting from where his incisor pinched his bottom lip. He licks over the minor wound thoughtfully, heaving out a breath of false amusement. When he looks at her again, his face is dark and full of cruel intentions of revenge.

Stan surges forward and doesn't stop until her body crashes against the wall like she was just a bag of dismantled bones. His coat falls from her shoulders and slumps against the hardwood floor during the journey. His towering height and weight pin her in place, leaving her at the mercy of splayed hands and the relentless motions of his mouth against hers.

The awakening, leftover flavor of gum he must've chewed eariler just sinks in when he bites down hard on her lip. A whimper, the first sound she makes besides the ejection of a surprised gasp, is forced out her from the harsh gesture. A metallic taste replaces the one prior, one eager swipe of his tongue rolling past her parted lips.

The instinct to shoot her hands up and enmesh them in the soft, chestnut strands of his cropped hair is interrupted by an action of his own. He eases the intensity of the kiss, allowing her to breathe through languid, desperate puckers she reciprocates, but his fingers hook around both her bra and tank top straps, yanking them down her arms. She lifts herself out of them only to have him grasp the collar of her shirt and pull it down, her bra in tow, until they were just bundled material around her midriff.

Calloused hands fondled her breasts while his mouth diverts to her neck, sucking and nipping until her skin resembled the colorful patches of a quilt. She throws her head back against the wall, leaning into his touch and letting out the most delicate moans that had all of his blood gushing to the apex of his legs; she felt proof of it when he rutted himself against her.

Her forearms are squeezed between their bodies so she can reach the buttons of his shirt, manicured fingers working hastily and with not as much care she knew Stan would've liked, but he seemed to be too preoccupied by kissing her all over. Soon her hands were tugging up the white t-shirt he always wore underneath his uniform, and he helped her out by shifting it over his head and discarding it to the growing pile of clothes.

His chest was warm and inviting compared to hers. Her skin felt like cool marble underneath his fingertips, keeping her nipples pebbled and sweat from the heated exchange at bay. It was quite a contrast as their bodies continued to press together, her hands sliding along the expanse of his taut back while he concentrated on undoing her shorts.

"All mine," he mumbled against her jaw; it was certainly hard to disagree with him and all his handsy clutches and kisses that left her craving more.

"All yours," she confirmed softly.

The words barely left her mouth before she felt the heart-jolting sensation that was his hand sliding past her unzipped shorts and underwear. His fingers ran up and down down her folds, taking his time, ever the explorer. He often grazed her clit, encouraging her hips to arch into him for more direct contact, but he was careful to only give her a slight, fleeting amount.

"Stan." His name parted from her in a low whine—somewhat shamefully because she never thought she'd be in this circumstance, begging a hardass park ranger with a major superiority complex for a release.

"So wet for me. Awful naughty of you to get this soaked from one arguement with me, don't you think?"

She nuzzled her face into the side of his, nose brushing along his chiseled cheekbone. "Please."

"Aw, look at you. So sweet. You'd never think that you live to slander me."

"I have no idea what you're talking about. I am nothing but nice to you."

"Oh?" He inserts his middle finger into her, curling it precisely, while the heel of his hand grinds against her clit with every deliberate pump.

"Yes," she gasps.

Shallow pants gradually rack through her torso, and the ache of his throbbing cock becomes unbearable at the sight of her defenseless against his advances. He adds another finger, the grip and warmth of her slick walls causing him to shudder in anticipation.

"Such a little liar," he groans out after a particularly provocative contraction around his digits, one that rids him of whatever patience he had left.

He abruptly removes his hand from her shorts, something that makes her closed eyes flicker open. Her mouth immediately morphs into a pout and she squeezes his biceps in protest.

She isn't left waiting for long, hands on her hips guiding her away from the wall until the underside of her knees hit the edge of a cot. His mouth parts from hers once more, a sweet dragging of overlapped lips exchanged during the slow steps, so he can pull back the blanket. She looks over her shoulder at the neatly presented cot, which Stan must've brought with him along with his own fitted bedspread. She was now appreciative that he always came prepared.

Without having to be told, she crawled underneath the covers after ridding herself of the remainder of her clothing. Stan did the same once she was settled, becoming the final layer that draped over her body. The blanket and the crisp white of a top sheet stopped at the dimples of his back, and she was trapped in warmth, intensified by the glorious weight of his bare body on hers. Arms on either side of her head latch the cage as he leans down for another kiss.

"Don't mistake me keeping you warm as forgiveness. I'm still very mad at you. You drive me crazy," he sighs against her jaw, his eyelashes fluttering against the apple of her cheek.

"Don't mistake me moaning for you as an apology. You don't deserve one." Her strokes at the nape of his neck never faltered. Her thighs spread, legs winding around his, desperate for him to do something with his cock that laid twitching and swollen on her navel. "Well, you might if you fuck me hard enough."

"Shut up already."

Long fingers brick over her parted mouth in time with the repositioning of his hips, muffling the cries of consumption that came from him sinking inside of her. Eyes roll to the back of her head, almost completely sated by just the feeling of being filled. The head of his shaft glided against her most sensitive spot like a brush of shoulders, and her thighs tightening around his waist was her turning around, ready to chase shattering gratification.

Although slow, his thrusts into her were brutal. They held onto to each other like you would to ropes of a ruinous bridge connecting two cliffs, like they would be faced with a plummeting death if they were to let go. And yet, they were fighting along the wobbly planks, the semicircles of hip bones clashing together like medieval swords. It was all extremes, but neither of them would have it any other way.

He was making the most beautiful sounds above her. Through his ruthless motions, were breathy moans and whines of her name, the occasional praise intertwined into his enticing responses. Eventually, he allowed his hand to stop sealing her lips, sliding it down to clutch the flesh of her thigh with the promise of bruises. Her soft pleas and moans of euphoria joined his to create a symphony worthy of a ballet orchestra.

Strings of saliva conntected rouge lips to the marked skin of his neck, where she continued to suckle and playfully nip. The roll of their bodies picked up speed, both becoming impatient by the delicious ache they kept provoking, daring one another to spasm out of control. They craved for their muscles to become a tightrope and for the most intimate parts of them to pulsate from the finality of release.

"You've never looked prettier than you do right now. Your cunt squeezing me so tight, your mouth only able to form breathless whispers... completely wrecked. I love it."

"Please," she cannot help but beg, flickering eyes undecided on whether to shut her continue their hazy, half-lidded stare into his own.

"You want to come?" The inward pull of his eyebrows and the slight curl of his parted mouth way as well have been a mocking pout. "I know you do. I shouldn't even let you, though. You've been intolerable. I should just come all over your writhing body and leave you here without any satisfaction. Even if you were to finish yourself off, it wouldn't be enough. It would only feel subpar, and you know that, don't you?" His breath fans her face like the furnace had moments ago, and she can only whimper in reply. "Only I can sate you, sweetheart."

Her hands, whose nails had already inflicted damage to the freckled canvas of his back, sweep over his shoulders to cup his jaw. Her thumb strokes his jawline while the other ventures down the column of his throat, feeling the bob of his adam's apple with every constristing swallow he took. She could tell he was close, too, and decided to nod her head gently in agreement to his words, to wave her white flag.

Her surrender is reassured by fingertips dragging down her torso to her enlarged clit, granting bone-vanishing swipes that causes stuttered gasps and limbs going slack. It only takes a few seconds of coaxing rubbing for her release to erupt, the molten lava bursting from the pit of her stomach to electrify just about every nerve in her body. Her encompassing walls clutch around him so tightly that it summons a delirious climax from him.

His strenuous pace wavers, his hold on the cot becoming prudent, as if it was a buoy keeping him afloat through the thrashing waves of pleasure. White, sticky ribbons coat the inside of her thighs, and it's only when his heartbeat ebbs from his eardrums that he cracks his eyes open and collaspes into the small remaining space between her and the wall.

Stan speaks after catching his breath, remaining pants interwoven into his declaration. "This should've happened sooner."

"It would've if you weren't such a prick," she noted, sparing him a quick glance.

"Okay, maybe... I wasn't on my best behavior. But I was nervous. I liked you a lot. I wanted to impress you."

"And you thought bragging about how you're a know-it-all when it comes to plants and wildlife and the park's terrain was going to the trick?"She questioned, snorting at his logic. His nose twitch, an indicator of embarrassment, and she grabs his arm and tucks herself into his side. "You're such a dork."

He smiled at the gesture before she continued, "I'm sorry that I flirted with the bartender. I didn't mean to make you feel like you were second best or anything. Honest to God, I just wanted free stuff."

"Well, the cream puffs you got out of it were actually delicious," Stan admitted, tilting his head in her direction.

She smiled back at him. "I know, right?"

Stan may not be a prime example of a good guy but he had always took glory in being good at his job. That's what kept him going, that's what fueled him all these years. Now, he was considering what life entailed outside of that. Outside of the stressful responsibilities and government conspiracies and the never-ending studious tendencies. She came to him for refuge tonight, but, the truth is, he had been relying on her for a long time. To fascinate him, to stand up to him, to guide him back to where he belonged.

He felt like he was finally pursuing something that was more important than his duties here, than anything else he's ever experienced. He was an off-bound ship, cruising blind into the dead of the night, and she was a lighthouse, promising purpose and salvation from every bad thing that ever tried to sink him.

// idk who to tag but i think @sojournmichael @fckinsupreme & @instinctsxbaby might be interested (you’re all so talented)!

#ahs #cody fern #american horror story #american horror stories #stan vogel #stan vogel smut #cody fern smut #xavier plympton smut #ahs stories #stan vogel x reader

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helloalycia · 3 years ago

Text

The Wrong Lifetime – Five // Wanda Maximoff

chapter four | story masterlist | main masterlist | wattpad | chapter six

author’s note: dying of cramps but didn’t wanna leave y’all hanging, so enjoy! x

Taking Wanda to Blackpool was something I couldn't stop thinking about for the past three days.

I kept telling myself that I had to remain calm, not make her feel uncomfortable with my obvious attraction to her, and to give her the best day out considering she'd never been before. It wasn't anything more than a girl spending time with her soon-to-be sister-in-law, and I had to keep reminding myself that whenever I'd feel a stir of desire in my chest at the thought her pretty smile or intoxicating gaze.

My family were thrilled when they heard of my plans with Wanda. My parents were glad I was actually making an effort to get on with her, whilst my brother was excited I was becoming 'best friends', as he put it, with his fiancé. That one stung a little, the guilt pricking my insides, but I convinced myself that that was exactly what I was doing. It wasn't wrong if I didn't think of Wanda in any way but what she was. Right?

The weekend came around quickly enough, and on Saturday morning, I met with Wanda at the train station where she waiting for me with an enthusiastic smile.

"I brought my watercolours and sketchbook so I can paint what's there," she explained as we boarded the train. "I also bought a lot of pencils in case some snap. I'm gonna draw everything I see so I don't forget a single thing."

We slid into our seats and I smiled with admiration as she continued to ramble about all of the things she wanted to do today. She looked so lively when she spoke, her hands moving about frantically to express her excitement, and her lips permanently etched into a smile when she wittered on. I didn't mean to stare, but God, she looked beautiful.

"Thank you again for doing this," she finished, head turning to mine.

Now, I'd read and written many clichés of someone falling for someone else, particularly the moment they knew they were too far gone. It was hard to believe if they were true depictions of liking someone, but I liked reading and writing them.

It was now that I learnt that they were no exaggeration, for when she looked my way with a beaming smile and glowing green eyes, I knew it was too late. There was no going back for my attraction to Wanda.

"No need to thank me," I spoke slowly, surprised I could speak at all since she'd knocked the breath from my lungs. "I'm glad you're excited."

The journey was a few hours long and we made conversation the whole way. It was the longest I'd spent alone with her since meeting her and I was intrigued by everything she had to say, hanging onto every word with all of my attention. If that wasn't enough, her accent only made everything she said sound so much better. She was naturally soft-spoken, but syllables rolled off her tongue in a silky, raspy way with her accent entwined in her words. I loved it.

At one point, the topic of our families came up and I felt like my brother came up in almost every conversation I'd had with anyone who discussed family, so I took this as my opportunity to get to know hers instead.

"What's it like to have a twin?" I asked, leaning on my elbow as I watched her attentively.

She mirrored my action playfully, though answered my question. "It's just like having a normal sibling, except they're way more annoying."

I smiled, imaging just how annoying Pietro could be as a sibling.

"I love Pietro, but he's very frustrating at times," she spoke with a hint of endearment. "He constantly throws it in my face that's he's older than me by twelve minutes. As if that makes a difference."

A chuckle flew from my lips as she pouted at her own words.

"But he's also my best friend," she said with a sigh, like that fact was irritating in itself. "He knows me better than anyone and he's the easiest person for me to talk to. I don't have to hide anything from him." She paused, glancing upwards in thought. "Well, almost anything."

Pursing my lips, I wondered what she meant as she mumbled the last part, but didn't question it. Everyone was entitled to their secrets.

"So, you and your family moved to England when you were kids, right?" I tried to recall what my parents had told me of them. "From Sokovia."

"Yes, we were about..." She scrunched up her nose as she tried to remember. "Eight years old, I think?"

"Wow, that's young," I realised.

She hummed in agreement, smile fading as her eyes fell to her hands. "Yeah... I don't remember much, but there was a lot of unrest at the time. A war. It was dangerous for everyone and my parents were lucky to get us out when they did."

I frowned, knowing some of this already, but it was sadder to hear when it was coming from Wanda herself.

"Our extended family didn't make it out," she continued to explain, voice quieter. "I didn't know them much, my parents' siblings, so it's not that sad for me. Pietro, too. But it's strange to think, you know? Especially when all of your family are around with this wedding and–" She sighed, shaking her head and looking to me with an apologetic smile. "Sorry, I didn't mean to bring the mood down."

I straightened up, reassuring her instantly. "Wanda, you don't need to apologise. It's okay. I... I didn't know any of that. I'm glad you told me."

She nodded, though the regret was still present in her gaze.

"I'm sorry all of that happened," I expressed honestly, not looking away. "But I'm glad you're here, if it makes a difference. You– your family are good people."

A small, appreciative smile graced her lips. "Thank you."

I shrugged, trying to brush it off so she wouldn't notice the heat rising up my neck. "It's nothing... so Sokovia. You speak Russian and English. That's pretty bloody cool."

She laughed wholeheartedly and any hint of sadness disappeared from her face, reassuring me completely. I didn't like to see her sad, especially when there was nothing I could do to make her feel better that I knew of.

"I promise to teach you some Russian today," she said with amusement. "A few words, just to diversify your vocabulary."

"Gee, thanks."

Another laugh escaped her and I chewed on my lip to contain my grin. I could get used to that sound.

—

When we reached Blackpool, Wanda was radiating with excitement. We couldn't make it two steps anywhere before she whipped out her sketchbook and began to sketch. She wasn't kidding when she said she was going to capture everything she saw.

I was patient, since the reason we came was for her, and watched as she worked. It was cute, seeing her concentrate and trying to stop dancing around with excitement every time I showed her something new.

We walked along the promenade and dipped in and out of the shops, looking at the gifts and clothes they sold. We bought a few things to commemorate the trip, but then Wanda was quick to drag me back outside so she could sketch the view of the beach from where we were stood. The grin on her face was convincing enough for me to let her drag me wherever she wanted. She looked so happy and I didn't care about anything else.

Eventually, around lunchtime, we headed to a café to have a break from all the excitement. Or rather, a break from running around. For Wanda, it was a better opportunity to sit still and sketch some more.

"So, you're drinking what, Y/N?" she asked, not looking up from her sketches as she worked.

I looked at my tea and lowered the cup. "Er, tea?"

"In Russian," she instructed.

"Oh." I cleared my throat, remembering what she taught me earlier. "Chay."

"And what's in the chay?" she asked, lifting her eyes to meet mine patiently. "The milk?"

"Moloko," I remembered, and the proud smile on her face reassured me I was correct. My shoulders relaxed as I returned her smile. "Thanks."

"You're a natural," she assured me, before looking back to her sketchbook. "I only taught you the words. You remembered it yourself. And before you know it, ty budesh' govorit' polnymi predlozheniyami na russkom."

My mouth opened with confusion, not knowing what she said. She seemed to realise as she chuckled at my expression.

"Never mind, milaya (darling)," she said with humoured eyes, before resuming her sketching.

I breathed out, taking another sip of my tea before grabbing a fork to dig into my pasta. As I chewed, I watched Wanda move her pencil effortlessly, creating lines that somehow resulted in a perfect drawing of the horizon.

"Do you only draw and paint landscapes?" I asked curiously.

"I can do portraits, too," she answered with a nod, glancing at me. "But they're never as good."

I gave her a knowing look. "I doubt that."

She merely smiled in response, eyes meeting mine for a moment, before shaking her head with amusement and looking back to her sketches. I chuckled, leaving her to it as I enjoyed my lunch and read the newspaper.

It was nice to just sit and enjoy each other's company as we did our own thing. I'd occasionally glance up to see Wanda focused on her drawing and smile, allowing myself to appreciate the sight, before looking back down to the paper and enjoying my pasta.

By the time I finished my food, as had Wanda, she straightened up and tore a page from her sketchbook. The noise pulled me from my reading and I looked up to see her holding the paper towards me.

I quirked a brow, but she simply shook the paper, signalling for me to take it. With confusion, I took it and became speechless when I saw what she'd drawn. It was me reading the paper, the exact view she must have had from being sat opposite me. It looked exactly like me, probably better since I knew I didn't look that good, and I was amazed at her talent all over again.

"You did this just now?" I asked with disbelief, looking up at her.

She shrugged and distracted herself with her pencil. "Yeah, it's not much. It's not my specialty."

I scoffed. "You're kidding. Wanda, this is amazing!"

Bashful smile on her lips, she glanced up at me. "Maybe it's the best portrait I've done. But I think that's down to my subject."

Even when she was embarrassed, she was still capable of turning the tables on me, leaving me a flustered mess. It was like her superpower. A very annoyingly cute superpower.

"That's what you look like y'know," she continued, nodding to the paper in my hand. "When you're focused on reading. You chew your lip with thought. And you get this little crease–" she pointed between her brows with a laugh, "–right here, and you seem to forget that anything else exists."

A sweet smile spread on her face as she tilted her head, watching me with intimidating eyes, very much aware of the effect her words had on me.

"You're very observant," I said, trying not to stutter, her gaze making me nervous. "Perfect skill for an artist."

She hummed in agreement, though didn't look away. "Mere artistic observation, right?"

My heart was hammering in her chest the longer she stared, especially when her words dawned on me. I'd said the exact same thing after she confronted me about picking her ring. I wondered if she could hear my heart pounding in my ears.

Just like the first time I saw her, I was at a loss for words and couldn't look away. She was compelling, beautiful and remarkable all at once.

—

"Nebo," I said, hoping it was the correct word for 'sky' in Russian, as Wanda had taught me.

She grinned. "Yes! And horizon?"

I pulled a face as I thought carefully. "Er...gorizont?"

"The student is soon to become the master," she said, and I rolled my eyes, knowing that was anything but the truth. I appreciated her encouragement though.

"Okay, before we head to the beach, we have to buy some rock," I told her, leading her to the stall on the promenade. "I got it last time and it's so good."

She furrowed her brows. "What's that?"

I smiled at her expression. "It's a sweet. Kind of like boiled sugar that's formed into a stick of, well, rock."

She didn't seem convinced. "If you say it's good, I trust you, I guess..."

I laughed, grabbing her hand and tugging her to the stall. "You'll love it."

After getting two sticks of rock for Wanda and I, we began to walk to the sand. I glanced at the brunette, wanting to see her reaction. She eyed the hard candy before attempting to bite it, a small piece breaking off at the top. Crunching on it, she scrunched her nose up.

"It's hard," she noted, swallowing the piece. "Tasty, though."

"It's better if you suck on it, love," I let her know with a hidden smile. "Tastes much better."

She did as I said, beginning to suck on the top, and seemed to enjoy it more. Giving me a thumbs up as she sucked it, I couldn't help but laugh again. She looked adorable, so I left her to it and did the same as we walked along the sand and towards the benches in the distance.

Like a child experiencing something for the first time, she began to point excitedly at Blackpool Tower and the ferris wheel in the distance and I just kept nodding along, letting her get excited because it made my heart skip a beat every time she flashed me a smile.

When we reached the benches, I was glad that today wasn't a busy day. It wasn't exactly tourist season, so the beach was scarce of anyone but residents of the town. And even then, our side of the beach was pretty empty, giving us first dibs on a bench that wasn't broken or uncomfortable.

Settling on it, Wanda pulled her legs up and sat cross-legged so she could lean on them and pull out her watercolours. I sat beside her and leaned back, inhaling the salty air and exhaling peacefully. I never had much reason to visit here apart from when my parents took my brother and I on the occasional trip, but it was nice to appreciate the sound of the ocean washing over the sand and the seagulls squawking in the sky. A big difference compared to back home.

Another silence formed between us as she painted the water ahead, and I couldn't help but glance her way, watching her pucker her lips with concentration. All she'd wanted was this and I was glad I could finally give it to her.

So she wouldn't notice, I looked away and stared out at the blue expanse of ocean before me. I should have been appreciating its beauty, but all I could think about was how it was no contest to the girl sat beside me.

"I'm really glad you brought me here today," she said out of the blue after a while, "but I wouldn't have said yes if I'd known you would be bored."

I looked to her and saw she was still preoccupied by her painting. "I'm not bored. We came here so you could see the water and find some new subjects to paint. And that's exactly what we're doing."

She sighed, looking up at me with a questioning glance.

Smiling reassuringly, I said, "I like the quiet. And I like watching you work. You look happy. It's good to see."

She tensed her jaw, stifling a smile, but her eyes said it all. She was grateful. Of course, her eyes were also very easy to get lost in, even if she didn't mean for me to. And right now, under the sun, I found myself drowning in pools of blue.

"What are you thinking?" she asked quietly, a hint of a smile on her face.

Stupidly, I felt compelled to tell her the truth. "I'm thinking about how you have really pretty eyes."

Attempting to make me flustered yet again, her favourite hobby by now I was guessing, she raised a brow teasingly. "Oh, really?"

It didn't bother me this time though, as I maintained eye contact and felt my heart swelling with adoration. "Yes. It's like you hold all the elements in a single gaze."

Her smile faded and that's when I realised what I'd said, my heart dropping to my stomach in an instant. Swallowing hard, I looked away and shook my head. An apology was waiting on the tip of my tongue when she spoke with realisation.

"It was you."

I glanced her way nervously. "What was?"

She was staring like her mind was working something out and I was the missing piece. "The letter that Y/B/N gave me last week. He wrote the exact same thing. What you just said."

My brows knitted together with confusion, then it hit me. The love letter Y/B/N wrote. The one he assured me was for his own eyes. He'd given it to her. And I'd just gone and said the exact thing he'd written on it, no doubt passing it off as is his own words.

"Th–that wasn't me," I got out, shaking my head slowly. "I didn't even know he gave you a letter, Wanda."

She continued to watch me, eyes squinting with scepticism. I swallowed hard under her gaze, trying to think of how I could come back from this. But apparently I didn't have to, because she suddenly leaned forward and pressed her lips to mine.

My mind was foggy when her fingers rested behind my neck, tugging me closer. I closed my eyes, melting at her touch, and began to kiss her back, moving my lips against hers. She was slow and gentle with me, her lips as soft as they looked and sending the butterflies in my stomach into a frenzy. I could have kissed her forever and been content, but my brain finally caught up to my actions and I reluctantly pulled away, stunned.

Glancing around to make sure nobody saw us – there was literally nobody here – I caught my breath and looked back to Wanda. Her eyes were drawn to my lips before they flickered to meet mine, darkened with desire.

"Why did you do that?" was all I could think to ask, and I was acutely aware of her fingers still grasping my neck, the skin burning where her tips grazed.

She licked her swollen lips, expression softening. "I think I've been falling for the wrong Y/L/N."

My lips pressed together, missing the feeling of hers against them. Never in a million years did I expect her to say something like that. I thought she'd been teasing me this whole time, but now, maybe there was truth to her actions.

"Did you really mean what you said?" she asked apprehensively.

"What?"

She swallowed. "What you said about my eyes. Did you mean it?"

Well, she'd kissed me, so there was no going back now.

I nodded, noticing the hesitance in her eyes. "Yes... you're beautiful, Wanda."

She didn't say anything and the silence was deafening. I almost wanted to run back home and pretend this never happened, but that was the cowardly side of me. The other side, the disbelieving side, wanted to stay here with her and keep living in this little bubble we'd created.

"Can I kiss you again?" she finally spoke, eyes flickering between mine for confirmation.

Not trusting myself to speak, I nodded slowly, and she didn't waste another second as she leaned in once again. This time, I wasn't so surprised, so I kissed her back quickly, trying not to think about how wrong this was. How I'd been taught that this was wrong. Because I refused to believe this was wrong, that it was a sin, when it felt so damn right.

Wanda felt right.

—

When I got home later that afternoon, I couldn't stop myself from smiling.

Wanda was all that was on my mind. Everything about her was floating around up there – the contagiousness of her smile, the brightness of her eyes, the taste of her lips. When I left this morning, I wasn't expecting to return with– well, I wasn't sure what we were, but we'd decided to give whatever this was a go.

Of course, she was still engaged to my brother, but I tried not to think about that. She made me happy and maybe in a different lifetime we could have been together, but this was the wrong lifetime which meant I'd have to make some wrong decisions, this possibly being one of them.

The guilt was still present, but the adoration I had for Wanda overpowered it. The fact that she actually liked me back was too thrilling for me to even concern myself with the lack of future this relationship would have. I just wanted to enjoy what we had whilst we had it, even if it meant being together in secret.

"So, how did your trip go?" my mum asked me when I returned, looking up from her knitting.

I stifled my grin the best I could. "It was fun. Wanda loved the seaside."

My mother seemed pleased as she smiled my way. "Y/N, that's great. You know, I'm really proud of you for making an effort with her. It means a lot to everyone."

"Mhm."

"She's going to be your sister-in-law after all," she continued knowingly, "so it's good you're spending time with her. Maybe you could do it more."

I hummed in agreement, my heart fluttering at the possibility of spending more time with Wanda. "Yeah, that could be good."

"Go on upstairs, you must be tired from the travelling," she said after a moment, noticing my distant headspace. "I'm glad you had fun today."

Wanda's smile appeared in my mind again, her lips ghosting my own. I sighed contently.

"Me, too."

#wanda maximoff au #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #scarlet witch imagine #scarlet witch #elizabeth olsen x reader #elizabeth olsen imagine #elizabeth olsen #marvel #marvel imagine

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thebookreader12345 · 3 years ago

Text

Shouting Match

Pairing: Sean Roman x Halstead! reader

Summary: Y/N and Sean were in what seemed like the perfect relationship, but when a close friend gets hurt, the two realize there were many faults between them and an argument ensues

Requested: Yes, by anonymous

Warnings: slight swearing, mentions of alcohol and gunshot wounds

Word Count: 1,777 Words

"Jay, for the last time, I'm not gonna break up with Sean just because you don't like him," I tell my older brother.

"Why not, Y/N? I'd say that's a pretty good reason," Jay retorted as he followed me out to my car.

We had just spent the past 2 hours hanging out at Molly's so that we could catch up because it had been a while since we'd spent time together. But of course, as soon as the topic of relationships came up, a debate started that I had not wanted to get into.

"Look, Jay. I get that he's got beef with Intelligence, and they're practically your second family, but Sean's a really great guy. And once you get over whatever the hell has you fixated on him being an asshole, you'll see that. Now, I've got an early shift at Med tomorrow, and if I'm late, Will is gonna have my head. I'll talk to you tomorrow," I say before climbing into my car.

The ride to the apartment was pretty short, 5 minutes tops, and I was just happy to be home. I climbed out of my car and entered the complex, taking the stairs to get to the second floor of the building. From there, it was only a matter of seconds before I got to my door and unlocked it.

"Hey," Sean greeted from the couch as I came through the door. It wasn't weird for Sean to be in my apartment when I got home. Occasionally he'd come over so we could spend a bit of time together before our next shifts.

"Hey," I return and set my things down before joining him on the couch. I took a seat on his lap and wrapped my arms around his neck, placing a much needed kiss on his lips.

"How was work?" Sean asked and encircled my waist with his arms.

"You know, giving meds, checking in on patients, the usual," I reply, describing the everyday routine of my job as an ED Nurse at Chicago Med. "And then I got to spend some time with Jay at Molly's. It's always nice hanging out with him since I don't see him as often as Will. But what about you? How was patrol?"

"Fine. The only thing that happened was an attempted robbery, and we caught the guy," Sean responded. "Speaking of work, my partner's taking a day off tomorrow, so I'm gonna be partnered with Kim for the day."

I had no problem with Kim. Quite the opposite, actually. She was my best friend. However, she was also Sean's ex, so sometimes it made things weird between us. She assured me when Sean and I started dating that she was okay with it, and I believed that, but whenever the three of us were together, there was a bit of awkwardness in the room. We always got past it though, and Sean and Kim continued to be friends.

"All right. Keep each other safe, please," I plead and peck his lips before climbing off of his lap. "I've got an early shift tomorrow, so I'm gonna head to bed."

"Goodnight," Sean called after me. I ditched the clothes I was wearing, throwing them in the hamper with one toss. After I put on some pajamas, I climbed into bed and closed my eyes. Minutes later, I was fast asleep.

............................................

"Y/N, that's your second cup of coffee this morning," Maggie pointed out as she joined me at the nurses' station.

"Yeah. And...?" I trailed off, not seeing the problem.

"Late night?" Maggie questioned.

I shook my head. "No, actually. I made Jay promise not to keep me at Molly's past 10, and he stayed true to that. Today I'm just enjoying my caffeine." Just then, Maggie's pager beeped, and when she glanced down at it, she frowned.

"Incoming! Choi, you're up!" Maggie yelled into the ED. Ethan was the doctor I worked with the most, and I had no problem with it. We had grown to be close friends, and we worked quite well together. So, whenever it was his turn to accept an incoming trauma, I always followed to help him out. I thought today would be the same, but that all changed when the gurney was wheeled through the ambulance bay doors.

"Kim Burgess, late 20s, gunshot wound to the neck. Weak pulse. We intubated in the field," Courtney, the paramedic, informed us. My whole world seemed to stop as I watched my best friend get wheeled past me. And seeing her unconscious made things 100% worse.

"Y/N, you coming?" Ethan quizzed as he led the gurney into the nearest trauma room.

"I uh... Mags, c-can you...?" I stammer out, not even needing to finish my sentence for Maggie to understand what I was asking.

"I've got this," Maggie assured me and followed Ethan into the trauma room. Seconds after Kim was wheeled in, Sean entered the ED, his eyes scanning the room until they landed on me.

"Y/N!" Sean shouted and joined me by the nurses' station. "How's Kim doing?"

"I don't know," I confess and glance towards the trauma room she was situated in. "I make it a rule to not work on anyone I'm close with. What the hell happened? You guys were just supposed to be on a routine patrol."

"Intelligence called us up," Sean answered. "We were working a drug case and we ended up having to chase the guy down an alleyway."

"That's not what I'm talking about. You promised you'd keep Kim safe. You promised, Sean. So where were you when she was being shot at?" I implore harshly.

"I was taking cover like I was supposed to! We didn't have an eye so I ducked down behind a dumpster. What, you think this was my fault?" Sean asked.

"You're her partner, Sean. It's your job to protect her. Yet here she is with a bullet buried in her neck," I return.

"You're acting like I told her to make a move," Sean countered. "She put her own life in danger. I had nothing to do with that."

I scoffed. "You had everything to do with it."

"I don't think we should be having this argument here," Sean whispered.

"Well I think we should," I retort.

"Y/N," Sean started.

"Don't 'Y/N' me," I seethe. By now, the whole ED was staring at us, but I didn't care right now. "My best friend is dying because of you!"

"If it was me in there instead of Kim, would you be yelling at her?" Sean posed. "Cause I think you'd be trying to reassure her that none of it was her fault. So, what? Kim takes priority over me, your boyfriend?"

"At the moment, yeah," I reply and cross my arms over my chest.

"Just at the moment? I think she always has," Sean accused. "And if that doesn't speak to how our relationship is, then I don't know what does."

"What are you trying to say?" I ask.

"I'm not trying to say anything. I'm telling you that I'm through with this. I'm through with you," Sean emphasized. "We're done." As Sean stalked off back towards the lobby, everything he said really hit me.

We were done.

"Y/N? You okay?" Adam questioned once he noticed that I had practically froze in the middle of the ED.

"Excuse me," I murmur and push past him politely. My body was begging me for some fresh air to help calm myself down, so I made my way out of the ED, but that involved going through the lobby where Sean and the rest of the 21st district was waiting. I hoped that I wouldn't catch anyone's attention, but I should've known better.

"Y/N," Jay said and stood up when he saw me. However, instead of stopping to talk to him, I made a beeline straight for the exit. The automatic doors opened when I stepped near them, allowing a nice breeze to hit my face. My feet carried me to the front of the hospital where I took a seat against the side of the building and placed my head in my hands. That's when the tears began to flow, but I didn't stop them. Minutes later, I was joined by Jay, who took a seat next to me. For a few seconds, we sat in silence, but then Jay spoke up. "Natalie told me what happened."

"I don't want to talk about it," I mutter without removing my head from my arms.

"Well, as family, we're required to," Jay declared. "I told you Roman was an ass."

I laughed softly and picked my head up, resting it against the wall behind me. "I now see why you thought that. So everyone in the ED heard?"

Jay nodded. "Yeah. But don't worry. I'm sure they're all thinking the same thing as I am. Want me to have a talk with Roman?"

I shook my head. "No, but thank you for offering. I uh, I need to get back inside. We're low on nurses today. I'll talk to you later, Jay."

Jay's POV

A few hours later, Kim was awake and doing well, and I was just glad that she would be making a full recovery. As Adam and I were exiting her room, we just so happened to bump into Sean Roman, the girl who just, not even hours prior, broke my little sister's heart.

"Hey, guys," Sean greeted. "Is she awake?""

I crossed my arms over my chest. "Are you for real?"

Sean frowned. "What?"

"You broke up with my sister, that's what. Get the hell out of here!" I demand.

"But-"

Adam cut Sean off. "Kim doesn't want to talk to you. Not after what happened between you and Y/N. And I'd advise you follow Jay's orders."

Sean hesitated, but sighed. "Fine." He then walked off, leaving Adam and I standing alone in front of Kim's hospital room.

"All right man, I'm gonna head out. I promised Y/N that Will and I would come over after her shift, which is ending in like 20 minutes, so I've gotta pick up some pizza and beers."

"Okay. I'm gonna stay and keep Kim company. Have a good night," Adam spoke.

"Yeah man. You too," I return. And with that, I left the hospital to go spend some much needed quality time with my sister. Y/N would probably be hurting for a few days, but Will and I agreed that we'd be there for her every step of the way because that's what big brothers were for.

______________________________

Tag List:

@prettypyschoinpink @securityfriendly-jay @scarletsoldierrr @virtualreader @carnationworld @caitsymichelle13 @dreamingmanip @campingmonkey @winterberryfox @nevertoofarfromivar @anotherfan07 @giagma @mrspeacem1nusone @i-like-sparkly-things

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britishth0t · 4 years ago

Text

Hyperactive (With slight homicide)

This is my first post on Tumblr (not my first post overall as I have Wattpad, but I'll post my username here when I've added my Klarion one-shots on there unless people want it lmao

You grabbed his interest when you were hanging out with your friends near the old cinema.

He seemed intrigued at first when even Teekl became slightly amused by your hyper personality.

Klarion may or may not have stalked you for a bit because of that

Eventually, Klarion did admit you seemed fun to Teekl, and wanted to get to you know you better in person.

Both of you finally met each other when you were walking around the harbour, taking photos of the sea and the horizon even if you knew you would delete them later.

Teekl thought this would be a great time for Klarion to introduce himself to you.

She half prayed that Klarion wouldn't freak you out, and the other half wanting you to not make Klarion too annoyed.

Somehow, it went really well.... A bit too well, as you two then talked as if you had known each other for years

Lets just say, you're both extremely hyper. I mean, it's Klarion.

You being a hyperactive person and him having chaos magic while also wanting mischief? It's a perfect yet dangerous match.

Teekl rethinks her choice about you two being together, as she now has to deal with two children and not one.

This also means that the Light have to deal with another 'kid' as well, since Klarion will definitely bring you to at least one meeting.

They're a bit cautious about you on first impression, not too sure if you're using Klarion to get information about the Light

But after a while, they see how much you deal with when you're with Klarion, and figure out that no one can put up a façade for that long

Yeah, even the Light know that you're one hyper son-of-a-b*tch

I wouldn't say you're obnoxiously loud, it's just being in a Light meeting no one is really talking except you, so it's dead quiet other than that. Nevertheless, you can be extremely deafening without realising it

Klarion's magical powers gives you a lot more freedom when being with him. Like, a lot more freedom, he's a lord of Chaos, you basically have no limits.

You can now do all the crazy sh*t you've ever wanted to do with Klarion by your side, and he's more than willing to join you in whatever ideas you have

A couple of times Teekl has to warn him that you're still a mortal, so he does lay off a bit from time to time to avoid getting you seriously injured

If you do get hurt, Klarion is gunna freak tf out, trying to play it off cool but failing

All adventures go out the window if you get hurt. And if you try to get up saying "I'm fine", he'll magically trap you in your bed to rest.

Don't test him, he will do it

A lot of things may break, and it's whether or not Klarion will fix it with his powers or not after... Probably not, it's not like either of you really care

If the Young Justice team do meet you, it's because you were in a forest with Klarion, messing around while climbing from branch to branch in the trees while Klarion floated next to you

The two of you were ambushed by the team, as Zatanna had sensed Klarion's power in that area while the team were nearby

They would have saved you, but you're surprisingly very good at climbing trees for any of them to grab hold of you, something that actually made them impressed

Klarion was very unhappy, so unhappy that you had to mention about going back home to hang out there to calm him down

Couple of times you'd wander off too far that Klarion isn't able to find you and would have to teleport you to him in order to know where you are, the only big thing that does get him slightly annoyed.

^ If you can make Klarion take responsibility (other than over Teekl) and act like a parent, my respect goes to you

You two don't have any rules apart from when you're injured, although there is one thing that bugs you both

2 hyper devils + "Calm down"= Death stare with Klarion hexing whoever said that

No one is allowed to tell you guys to calm down

Klarion x homicidal hyper reader ⚠️Mentions death⚠️

You met each other like the first one, except that you seemed more wanting to go into danger and edge your friends into doing bad things than actually have fun

This time, Klarion was intrigued before Teekl

He noticed your cold yet intense gaze on everyone that was near you

Something about you was odd. Klarion knew that but he didn't know what was making you seem so odd

It's not until you become best friends that he finally realises your love for murder

While you got along with Klarion before him knowing this, wow he's ecstatic that he finally knows what seemed off with you

He tempts you into murder as well, seeing that you showed to be very refrained from not doing anything about your homicidal thoughts

Catches on very quickly how manipulative you can be with your friends, friends that Klarion now wants to be your first kills

Unsurprisingly, it doesn't take that much convincing from Klarion to make you agree to killing your soon-to-be-dead mates

He helps of course, trapping them all and giving you all sorts of weapons to use on them

It's like a holiday for both of you

You even asked Klarion at one point to make their screams quieter since they were annoying you

And after you had finishing butchering your friends, Klarion realised that he like-liked you and confessed right there

Yep, Klarion did just admit to liking you while standing in the middle of dead bodies scattered around at your feet

Soon after that, you both start doing more destruction together

Limits? F*ck no

Hell, if you asked for half of the moon to be destroyed, Klarion would snap his fingers and bam, moon gone.

One time you asked Klarion to give you powers like superman, just so you could fly and mess around in the city

It started off as just throwing cars as far as you could, not exactly caring if people were inside or not

Which then turned into full blown 'lemme jump/crash into one sky scrapper to another', looking like a monkey swinging from vines in a jungle

While the heroes didn't enjoy your hyper and destructive personality nor Klarion, the news loved you. The amount of reports you and Klarion got in the news just boosted both of your ego's

"Double trouble strikes again!" "Witch boy causes havoc with anonymous villain" "League fail to stop villains, have they met their match?" "Criminals cause devastating downfall on the city" "61 lives lost in under an hour" You felt prideful in the last one, a new record in your books

If you two ever go out to have dates, it'll 100% always end with something, mostly a building, being completely destroyed

Whenever the 'kiddie' team as Klarion calls them, or the Justice League come; they're always too late to stop you two

Even if Batman claims they were so close to stopping you, he's wrong. The heroes don't even manage to get you two to notice them arriving, already going off to have some fun somewhere else

You've mentioned about wanting to kill at least one of the heroes out of spite and because you felt like it on multiple occasions

Klarion would love to snap his fingers to have every hero there for you to choose from, yet he couldn't do that because of Vandal wanting some of them alive. Especially Lex with Superboy.

You get along nicely with the Light, as they trust you enough to know that you can calm Klarion down and that you're classed as a criminal

Occasionally, you have unnerved them with the gory deaths about some of your kills, Klarion kissing your cheek out of pure happiness from hearing the defined details

Teekl doesn't really care about it as long as you get the blood off her fur if you get any on her later.

A lot of lives are lost when you two are together... Which is all the time

(Secretly, the young justice team have envied how much freedom you get when with Klarion-> This is after they have to tidy up the mess you two make)

Sorry if this isn't very good, literally made this and posted it the same day. I've loved Klarion's character for quite a long time now and saw that, although the fanfics are good, there isn't a lot of them. I'm down for requests, but right now I don't think I can do many. You can send me stuff and I'll write it down, just don't be upset if I don't post it in the next week or two. If this isn't up to your standards then srry aha, I realise I don't add much fluff and focus more on the storyline, but there's always room for improvement tho✌️

#klarion x reader #klarion bleak #yj klarion #klarion the witch boy #young justice klarion #klarion x y/n #first post

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in-tua-deep · 3 years ago

Note

Ok I totally want to hear more about this survivors au/Delores is real! How do the siblings handle having this different version of Five? Five may be better adjusted but he still has to heard his family around like a bunch of stray cats. What happens when Hazel and Cha Cha show up? How do they find out that Vanya causes the apocalypse and how does Five handle that revelation?!

here is the thing, i think the survivors au has the potential to be HILARIOUS

no one knows how to handle a well-adjusted five, and this absolutely includes the commission

So you mentioned Hazel and Cha-Cha?? Five in this au was not nearly as absolutely feral as he is in the show bc he knows how to interact with people - he was raised by a competent adult and a weird best friend and they occasionally saw other survivors as well

please picture old Five hanging around the water cooler and chatting with Hazel

the other funny thing is that Five is competent passing - he is well adjusted emotionally but functionally?? Hazel is out there complaining about dental being cut and office parties and budgets and Five is there sipping his drink having never filed taxes in his life. Five doesn't know what the fuck a dental plan is, he was a child soldier and then lived in an apocalypse.

So please picture for me Hazel being like "okay I know corporate wants us to keep what we're being paid to ourselves but fuck that, workers unite, what do you get paid as a legend old timer?"

and five is like "you're getting paid? i get to not get tossed back into the apocalypse, I think"

"but what about expense forms? what about medical care?"

"I'm like 80% sure i'm being experimented on, actually." Five says nonchalantly, "Don't get me wrong, my idea of medical care is fucked by being a child soldier but I'm pretty sure regular people don't have electrodes attached to their heads every time they get a checkup. Could be wrong though! My ex-dad used to monitor my brainwaves while I slept so like, my idea of appropriate shit is fucked, you know?"

This is a Five who was raised by Rick, he is polite to his coworkers. If Dot asked him if he wanted to grab lunch, Five would have gone and grabbed lunch with her or politely said that he couldn't.

Cha Cha only ever talks to Five when she wants to talk shop, so they've had a couple of conversations about weapons but not much else tbh, Hazel just tends to be more personable

So when they're sent after Five, Hazel is much more hesitant to kill who he perceives as a "work friend" and also is definitely thinking about all the times Five casually revealed a way the commission was being highkey shady about him, such as the potential experimentation, no pay, working under duress etc. He's much more easily turned against the commission because he's even more primed to say "fuck the commission" than he is in canon

Hazel out here like "how did Five break his contract when Five wasn't even being paid? I kind of want to read it."

Hazel out here like "I would unionize if I didn't think the commission was anti-union enough to send literal assassins after me if I suggested it :/"

meanwhile with the siblings

Five just. talks over them a lot and makes so much sense that it's actually really hard to argue with him, and he's weirdly considerate of his family's obligations

Like Diego is like "i have to go see Patch" then Five is like "that's great I'm proud of you buddy, it would actually be really handy to have some law enforcement read into the situation if you think she's up to the task. that goes for everyone by the way! If y'all have people you trust, more bodies would be super helpful I think"

the entire family, collectively, who have like zero trusted social links: uhhhhhhhh

Diego, with this weird permission, probably?? Does? Awkwardly attempt to read Patch into the situation? Patch is, obviously, like "what the fuck, Diego" but probably goes with him to the mansion (????????) because she's concerned and then meets his fucking whacko family with their superpowers and suddenly everything is 100% more realistic

Five is just like "yes hello I'm aware I look like a child, i'm actually in my late 50s or early 60s (apocalypse time amiright) because of time travel stuff. Yes I am Five Hargreeves who went missing in like 2002 or whatever. anyway it's lovely to meet you, i'm so glad diego has someone he trusts, and considering my sibling's shifty looks when i told them to invite anyone they trusted this genuinely makes me concerned that Diego is the most socially well-adjusted of them."

"That cannot be possible." Patch says, like someone who has met Diego Hargreeves.

"You haven't met the rest." Five says sympathetically, "In our defense we were raised in isolation as child soldiers."

"That... explains so much." Is all Patch can say to that, "But you seem..."

"I'm adopted." Five waves away.

"We're ALL adopted." Diego grits out, very aggrieved by this and also not sure if he likes the fact that Patch seems friendly with Five, or at least is listening to him?

"I'm double adopted."

However! With the recruitment of Patch, herding Diego becomes like 90% easier.

Honestly the worst to herd are probably Luther and Allison? Luther because he's Number One and resents Five taking charge and also resents Five's casual dismissal of Reginald and also suspects that Five (or at least the commission) has something to do with Reginald's death?

Allison because she is torn between following Luther and helping him and helping Five but also calling Patrick and Claire at every possible moment while ALSO trying to repair her relationship with Vanya. She's flighty - she'd bail on a Five-apocalypse-assignment if Vanya mentioned being hungry or if Luther called or anything like that

Vanya likes to be included and, if asked, would probably drop as many current obligations as she can. Like she would probably cancel her teaching if Five genuinely and sincerely asked her for her help, which he does because he's 100% sure Dolores would manifest in front of him and smack him if he dared even imply someone without powers wouldn't be helpful

Vanya is like "I'm not sure if i'll be helpful - I don't have powers ):" and Patch is like "wtf are you talking about - my superpowers are Gun, Backup, and Reading Comprehension and i am like the most useful member of this team right now"

Vanya gets a confidence boost just from hanging out with Patch honestly, I think they should be friends

Klaus is thrilled to be included are you kidding?? He says he does it for money but he's just happy to be there and also as one of the most emotionally intelligent siblings he is mildly concerned about the fact that Five looks like he's about to cry and also emotes

Five also gives Klaus positive reinforcement, hugs, and Five absolutely weaponizes the I'm not mad, but I believe that you can do better and I'm going to give you more chances because I love you and fully believe that next time you'll be amazing way that Rick used on him.

I feel like Five ends up saying something along the lines of "I understand that x is really important, and we're definitely going to look into it. Is it something that needs to be addressed right now, or is it something that can wait until after April 1st? If it can wait, I can write it down here on this list so we don't forget. If it can't wait then we can figure out a time to address it and help you" a lot

Like Grace malfunctioning and potentially killing Reginald?

"We don't have to make this decision right now." Five says patiently, "Because Grace is a robot, we have some options. Living with a robot who is potentially malfunctioning and homicidal is dangerous, but Luther saying that means admitting that Reginald might have made a mistake or error with Grace's programming or upkeep. I haven't been here for a long time, but I remember Reginald being very precise. Regardless, this isn't a choice between permanently shutting her off or not. We can shut her down temporarily until we can fully address the issue. We can ask and see if there is a 'system reboot' option or some sort of system check that Grace can undergo. We can try find and hire an expert to take a look at her programming to find the issue."

Five gives this speech while like, organizing the weaponry in the house on a table very nonchalantly

Five out here making buzzer noises at his siblings arguments like "yeah no that's a false dichotomy and a strawman's argument, want to try again?"

(Look apocalypse nights were long and they had games that were literally about arguing pointless shit like ranking types of chairs or the best way to break out of a prison without powers and things could get heated)

"Who died and made you boss?" Luther demands.

"Uh, the world? Were you not listening?" Five asks, looking very purposefully confused.

It gets even MORE delightful when Five reads Rick into the situation because a) he promised and b) his siblings really have like, no connections jeeze

Rick fully believes that this is his son from the future, like Five introduced himself, but Five skipped out on a few key details. Such as being adopted.

So Rick spends a solid chunk of time just staring at Five, who looks basically nothing like him, trying to think like, who is his mother ???? if we save the world will Five stop existing? why would I name my child 'Five'? Does everyone have powers in the future? was there like... a radioactive apocalypse? would radiation give future humans superpowers? when did my life turn into a comic book? am i even allowed to ask these questions? will knowledge of the future fuck things up?

and then when Five comes back and is like "what is up everyone this is my dad Rick who will be joining us, he doesn't have any memories of me thanks to time travel but if anyone is mean to him i WILL kneecap them"

"Your DAD?"

Five does kidney punch Klaus for saying that Rick is a DILF but otherwise everyone just is like, warily looking at this Normal Dad Man in confusion because?? This is the dude who raised Five, who they watched take out like an entire commission team by himself yesterday? He looks so. Normal.

Rick is very confused and like, wonders if he's supposed to be the team mascot? But Five keeps involving him and asking his opinion and in return Rick enforces snack breaks and makes everyone sandwiches and has gentle talks with everyone

Every time Five notices someone about to blow he just lovingly makes sure that that person is alone in a room with Rick

Luther ends up crying on the sofa with Rick gently patting his back as Rick calmly states that Luther seems like he's put a lot of time and effort into his family and making his father proud and that since Reginald isn't here to say it, Rick will have to be the one to say that he's proud and that they've been dropped into a difficult and stressful situation - so soon after Reginald's death when they're still grieving! - and he's doing so well

Luther, experiencing unconditional positive paternal regard for the first time in his life: i don't know why i'm crying so much

honestly this is just a comedy of juggling the gang, having impromptu therapy sessions and discussions, investigating the apocalypse and the eye, leonard trying to meet vanya continuously and failing because she's constantly surrounding by family or rick/patch, the commission trying their best to bust up the dream team/isolate Vanya/kill or remove Five, while Hazel lives out his romcom dreams with Agnes and also says "fuck the commission"

#HUH?#survivors au #well adjusted five au #long post #far tua long #five recruits rick to be team dad #rick is DEEPLY confused #but he's the kind of person that rolls with it #dolores probably ends up tagging along as well on at least one occasion #dolores and patch bond #five pretends that dolores is a new sibling and not his dolores #five calls rick 'dad' and it messes with everyone else #patch is on team fuck-the-apocalypse(-and-reginald)#vanya is never alone so fuck leonard #five finds out that vanya causes the apocalypse and is like #vanya: HUH?#luther: maybe we should lock vanya up -#rick: are there are any other possible actions that might be more appropriate in this situation?#vanya: i could try get more meds to take and we could address the powers thing after april 1st #vanya immediately gets validated that reginald sucks #even luther who has had multiple conversations with rick is like 'dad... didn't always make the best choices...'#everyone: :0 #hazel doesn't kill patch so he probably joins team anti-apocalypse at some point #hazel: why are you a child #five: oh you know i'm young at heart and all that #OH forgot to mention one of the main differences in this au is that five like properly grew up this time #so while he is inconvenienced by his body he's not so deeply uncomfortable or angry about it #just resigned #'this might as well happen' - five #five probably makes jokes about it as well

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kpopimaginings · 4 years ago

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Sasaeng Scare - Jinyoung

AN: Hello, sorry these requests are taking a while, I didn’t like any my first drafts, so I’ve tried again and now I’m happy. This is for anon who wanted a dad!Jinyoung protecting his twins, so here you go :)

It was Jinyoung's day on dad duty while you were busy, and he had just picked his girls up from a morning at preschool. He was now busy preparing lunch for the three of them.

"How was school, girls?" he asked as they played together in their highchairs next to him.

"Good!" said the younger, Sin Ang, enthusiastically.

"Yeah? What made it good?" he asked.

"We made a new friend," she informed him.

"No, we aren't meant to say," the other twin, Gi Dae, said to her sister.

"But we can't say her name, because we don't know, so it's ok," Sin Ang pointed out.

"So, you have a new friend, but you don't know her name?" Jinyoung asked them.

"No, but we can go home with her after school tomorrow and she'll tell us then," said Gi Dae.

"And, she has a special surprise for us," added Sin Ang.

"No play dates until me or eomma have met her parents, ok?"

"But appa, she's a grown-up."

At Sin Ang's words, Jinyoung's blood ran cold. He tried to keep a level head and speak calmly to his children, but internally, he was panicking. With food abandoned for now, he turned to the twins.

"A grown-up asked you to go home with her?"

The girls nodded.

"Does she work at the school?"

"No, we met her at playtime," started Sin Ang.

"Through the fence," Gi Dae finished.

"You never leave playschool without appa or eomma."

"But she knows you," said Sin Ang.

"It doesn't matter," Jinyoung said sternly. "No matter what someone tells you, you do not go with anyone else."

"Now we won't get our surprise," pouted Sin Ang.

"I told you not to tell," her sister retorted.

"Did the lady say she's going to be there tomorrow?" asked Jinyoung. "I need one of you to answer me."

Gi Dae nodded.

"Thank you," he said, placing a kiss on her head.

Jinyoung then finished preparing food, and once everything was done and the girls were in the playroom together, he was on the phone to police. He was ready to do whatever it took to keep his family safe. After he had relayed everything the twins told him to the authorities, he tried to put it to the back of his mind and spend the afternoon enjoying sometime with his daughters.

It wasn't until you got home later that he allowed himself to think about it again. Once you'd greeted the three of them, he pulled you into your room to explain what was happening.

"And I just know it's a sasaeng, and it's making me feel like it's my fault that our babies are in danger," he said as he fell back on his bed with his hands covering his face.

"Don't do this to yourself," you said as you sat down beside him. "You can't blame yourself for someone else's actions. You are doing everything you can to keep the girls safe."

"Maybe we should keep them home for a couple of days," he suggested. You quietly considered everything before speaking again.

"The police are going to be watching. and we can talk to the school, make it very clear that we are the only ones who will be picking them up. We could even make sure we get there really early to collect them, so there's no chance anyone can get to them," you countered. I know you're worried, I am too, I'd be inconsolable if anything happened to our little angels, but we can't pull them out any time something happens. They need to be at pre-school, learning and socialising with other kids their age."

"I know, I know, I'm just panicking."

"And that's not a bad thing, you're a father, you're meant to worry about your kids, but please do it without blaming yourself."

Before he could respond there was a small voice heard from the doorway.

"Eomma, juice please?" Sin Ang asked holding up her cup.

You smiled, taking it from her. "Of course, well done for asking nicely."

With one last comforting look at your husband, you headed to the kitchen to get your daughter some juice and find something to cook for dinner.

The next day, you and Jinyoung were both around to do the morning school run, but no sooner had the four of you begun the walk, Sin Ang was trying to get her father's attention.

"Appa, that's our new friend," she said, pointing to a lady stood on the other side of the road.

Jinyoung's jaw clenched as he took a step in her direction. Quickly, you grabbed his arm to stop him.

"Let go of me," he growled.

"Get back in the house."

"She's threatening my family."

"Yes, but if you're right and she is a sasaeng, she's doing it to get to you, and I'm not letting anything happen to you either. Inside, now," you demanded, and all four of you headed straight back home.

"Why aren't we going to school?" asked Gi Dae.

"So that me and appa can keep you safe," you explained. "Go to the playroom." You spoke gently, one eye on Jinyoung as he stood glaring out of the window after making sure the whole house was locked up.

"Call the police. I'll call the school and explain why the girls won't be there."

Jinyoung refused to move from the window , eyes trained on the girl across the street. He even snuck a few photos of her on his phone before calling the police, just in case she disappeared before they arrived.

"Can I leave you to deal with the police when they get here?" you asked him. "I want to sit with the girls and make sure they're ok. I don't want them to pick up on how worried we are."

"Absolutely," he agreed, but grabbed your hand before you could leave, pulling you in and kissing you quickly. "Thank you for being so level-headed while I panic."

"I'm sorry to tell you, but we're going to be worrying about them for the rest of their lives," you pointed out.

Jinyoung gave you a half-smile before turning his attention back to the window. You knew he wouldn't be able to calm down until there was no longer any threat to his family.

You headed into the playroom to see what your girls were up to, finding them chasing each other round. You laughed slightly at their antics, the sounds of their delighted squeals lifting your spirits. Settling yourself on the floor you watched them, occasionally one of them would run to you seeking protection from her sister in your arms.

You were aware of the doorbell sounding and some of the muffled talk between your husband and police, but your focus was mainly on your children. As you held a giggling Sin Ang tight on your lap, Jinyoung entered the room behind you.

"Appa!" squealed Gi Dae, launching herself at him and clinging to his legs.

"Hey, princess," he said as he scooped her up into his arms. "Who wants to go to the toy shop?"

The girls both cheered and he put Gi Dae back on the floor.

"Sin Ang, come here," he said, so that both of his children were stood in front of him. "I need you to promise me, that if anyone else starts talking to you like the lady yesterday, you are going to tell me or eomma, ok?"

They both nodded obediently.

"Great, thank you. Now, go and put your shoes back on and I'll treat you both to a new toy."

As the twins ran to put their shoes on, Jinyoung offered you his hand and pulled you to your feet.

"You seem happier," you smiled at him. "All sorted?"

"The police got her, she was still outside when they arrived," he nodded.

"Good idea, rewarding the girls for telling us," you praised him.

"I'm getting the hang of this parenting thing," he smiled.

You rolled your eyes before giving him a quick kiss. "The girls are very lucky to have you as their appa."

NAVIGATION | GOT7 MASTERLIST

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ladyartemesia · 4 years ago

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Yooo your love story straight out seems like an e2l slow burn tumblr fic. Do you have any plans using at as a plot?? I would def read it 👀

I don’t know if I would truly call it enemies-to-lovers because—although I got irritated with him and his behavior and did snap at him from time to time—we were not really enemies. In fact we were barely friends for most of the years we knew each other—

Well.

Ok. So that’s not totally true...

We fought online constantly. From the time we graduated college (where his crush first developed and I routinely forgot his name) the two of us were always fighting on social media—usually about politics—and occasionally about other things but both of us were too smart to ever truly get the better of each other so there was a grudging respect, (his mom said he used to yell at his computer screen about me). We had it OUT several times online even though we rarely—if ever—spoke in person.

My poor sweet boy DID get himself in trouble over me in more ways than one though—even if we’re weren’t close yet...

His college girlfriend set him up to fail asked him who he would date if the two of them weren’t together and he answered immediately—vehemently—

“Viola. I would definitely date Viola if I could.”

🤦🏻‍♀️ (oh...honey...no)

(That would become a huge THING in their relationship. Every time they got into a fight his ex would shout “why don’t you just go date VIOLA then?!”—When he married me he said he felt like a real winner in that particular collection of conflicts. Playing the long game I guess 🤣😂)

Back then I was all about the music/dramatic arts scene and I was dating a string of empty headed pretty boys who bored me nigh unto death because I was young and completely stupid.

In contrast my someday-boo was painfully quiet and shy (though not really with me because he was too busy trying to prove me wrong), but everyone who met him or spoke to him really liked him and respected him.

After college we were were still in the same extended social circle (and—as previously mentioned—fighting online), but I went to grad school and my not-yet-husband decided to chill for awhile and take a job as a landscaper while he figured his life out and... here’s where it gets complicated because...

—that’s where the girls came in. You see... he’s always been a really nice guy... maybe a little too nice 🤦🏻‍♀️

The term fuqboi tends to conjure up impressions of a cocky frat bro who slyly shags his way through a mountain of willing women with disconnected efficiency and a subtext of emotional constipation.

But that would not be the case here.

You see my husband is a listener. He’s an INFP. He, unlike many of his brethren, understands emotions and can really make a woman feel seen. Combine that with his good looks, brilliant mind, and broody nerditude and you have a recipe for women who were ‘just friends’ randomly dropping to their knees (and a lot more) for him.

Never one to stand in the way of a lady’s dreams, pre-me-hubby figured that if they were that determined to (*insert miscellaneous sexy stuff here*) with him then—well—he’d let them.

I mean why not, right? No harm done.

Wrong. 🤬

And here is where our paths truly began to merge (in the real world) for the first time.

As the FOURTH girl (just in my friend group) he graciously allowed (🤦🏻‍♀️) to have her wicked way with him sobbed in my arms, I became determined to put this ridiculous man-child IN his PLACE—this time in the tactile world as well as the virtual one.

...Poor Liz

She realized that he had absolutely no desire whatsoever to be in a relationship with anything other than his WoW account and she was insistent that he had broken her heart.

So I cornered him and we had it out. (Call me meddlesome, but to be fair he was four friends deep at this point.)

The problem was that... the more I talked to him...the more he was not really what I expected... I found myself...oddly...intrigued?

Later it would come out that I was the first girl—ever—that he actually pursued. And I was not even aware of it for like the first three months.

He was pretty slick after all when it came down to it.

That man convinced me to ‘help him’ with women—to make sure he didn’t get himself into another situation where some girl with heart eyes was tearing off his clothes and expecting commitment.

HE ASKED ME TO BE HIS ‘EXCUSE.’

🤦🏻‍♀️(...I know. I’m an idiot.)

“We can hang out. You’ll teach me how to spot if a girl is about to catch feelings and take off my pants. And I will have an excuse when they call as to why we can’t hang out” (—and ...they really were always calling. It was wild.)

....I mean he WAS shy! It SEEMED plausible!

So yeah my dim self agreed to it. (🤦🏻‍♀️)

I considered it a valiant attempt to save the rest of my social circle from the most clueless ‘accidental’ fuqboi on planet earth and maybe even an opportunity to teach him how to be a real human being and what not.

And before you think ‘fake dating’—we weren’t. We were just hanging out as friends. You see when I went to yell at him (and chased him down after he laughed at me and tried to escape) we ended up talking in his car for like four hours. And then that happened like three more times randomly so... I... actually... wanted... to be his friend... 🤷🏻‍♀️

I was still 110% not interested romantically.

Your girl (me) was after some bland banker dude (🤦🏻‍♀️) and so I blissfully fell into friendship with my actual soulmate without a single second thought. And I never worried about either of us catching feelings because I had a crush on someone else and he had heavily implied that I was not his type. (He told me later that I just assumed this and he simply never corrected me 🙄)

I don’t remember falling for him. I never decided to. I never thought about it...

But one day after the whole crew was hanging out at a restaurant (and the waiter kept giving me free drinks which may have pissed my once-and-future man off) the two of us went out to his car to have our customary three hour post-chill chat...

I was teasing him about something—some girl he was still attempting to untangle himself from—and I said—as had become my habit (seriously I said this so many times as a joke)—“It’s too bad I’m not your type—you could just tell her you have a girlfriend.”

(Now. I know what you’re thinking. But I was still firmly on team platonic ok! I was just a flirt. And maybe part of me was starting to feel weird things about him—but those feelings weren’t like anything I recognized so I thought I just needed to cut back on sugar or something.)

(Have I mentioned I’m an idiot?)

ANYWAYS he looked me right in the eye. So serious. And instead of saying “that’s too bad”—LIKE he ALWAYS did—he said—

“You...are my type, Viola... You’re exactly my type.”

To which I responded—“....What? No I’m not. You said I wasn’t.”

“Never said that. You assumed.”

“You LET me!”

—followed by a good ten minutes of me having an existential crisis/yelling at him for allowing me to believe he didn’t find me attractive and lulling me into a false sense of security. He was infuriatingly unapologetic.

At the end of it all he asked me to give him—give us—a chance.

And I agreed to go out on a few dates with him (mostly to prove to myself that there was nothing there).

(🤦🏻‍♀️)

The only thing I ended up proving was that I was wrong about what I wanted and even more wrong about what I needed.

You see...

Those weird feelings turned out to be love.

(🤦🏻‍♀️)

And it was a really special experience to sit in a room full of girls who had cried in my arms over him—girls I had lectured repeatedly on the dangers of his heartless ways— and admit that I was his girlfriend.

🤦🏻‍♀️

Love was—and continues to be—nothing like I expected and frankly I couldn’t be happier.

... to answer your questions

1. I have considered writing a fic based on our story called Broken Road. The title is taken from an old Rascal Flatts song that—as insanely cheesy as it is—really reminds me of us. Don’t know if I will actually write this. Thought about it a lot though.

2. Tags I would use for this story?

#enemies-to-lovers / #idiots-to-lovers / #college au / #outgoing!fem reader(me) x shy nerd!accidental fuqboi / #reader is also a huge nerd actually / #she’s just a loud one / #frenemies-to-lovers / #the love is requited / #they’re just idiots / #pining (his) / denial (mine) / #reader has terrible taste in men / #except for that last one / #she really redeemed herself there at the end

#wow #it was really cool to write all this out actually #my love story #well part of it anyways #it’s still ongoing #via💋viola

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tarithenurse · 4 years ago

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Spark - 25

Fandom: Enn Enn no Shōbōtai / Fire Force. Pairing: Shinmon Benimaru x fem!reader. Content: Angst, feels, danger, stubbornness. The usual. A/N: Manage to get myself pretty confused because it said I’d already posted 25 chapters on AO3 but here on Tumblr it only claimed 24...aaaand then I remembered posting the what-if directly in the story there but not here...so yeah! Feel free to ASK (or reblog) for tag – in fact: always reblog. Thanks to those who have already <3

25. Forged by fire

... Reader ...

Your brain is protesting as you wake up. No, scratch that. Your entire body is throbbing as you’re being jostled by each step of the one carrying. Benimaru. The scent and heat can only be his but it’s comforting to open the eyes and see the shock of dark hair flopping about, occasionally blocking the view of his right cheek bone. Somehow, probably with the help of Joker, you’ve been tied together, allowing your arms to hang limply over his shoulders while he supports your by wrapping his arms around your thighs. It’s not comfortable but it’s efficient.

“Wait,” Joker hisses from up ahead.

There’s very little light – barely enough to illuminate the obstacles littering the crumbled hallway – and you can’t see what has alerted the gangly man, but you feel the uncrowned king of Asakusa tense beneath you, his lungs slowly expanding as he takes in the surroundings.

“Hm. I smell it.”

Smell? Sniffing the air, you don’t pick up on anything much at first apart from Benimaru, dust; and your own need for a bath.

“Don’t worry, [Y/N], just stay calm.” He must have felt you stirring.

Nothing snappy comes to mind and it doesn’t matter because that’s when you realize that a curl of sulphurous stench is mingling with the air.

“Let me down.”

“You can’t stand on that leg,” he argues as Joker steps closer.

Already fumbling with the sash holding the two of you together, the idea of supporting the weight seems like a horrible idea. “It wasn’t an invitation to a discussion, Beni,” you growl, “I’ll hold you back if you carry me.”

“I’m not leaving you behind!” Stubbornly digging the fingers into your thighs, he’s probably stubborn enough to stick to the word.

Finally free of the restraints, you tug at his hair. “I’m only telling you to put me down for now.”

There are whispers now, low murmuring groans coming from both directions as if carried on the fumes. The lightest dust and ashes are starting to dance on the ground in spiralling patterns that clash and divide in mesmerizing patterns. They could have been fascinating to watch if it wasn’t for the temperature slowly rising.

“Do as she says, Shinmon,” Joker drawls, his eye fixed at a warm glow that has appeared in the distance.

Begrudgingly, the man sets you on the ground, careful to let you gain the balance on your good leg before letting go. It’s obvious on his face: one wrong move and he’ll sweep you off your feet. I’m so gonna use this to my benefit once we’re home. You decide to ignore the nagging sense of doubt and instead focus on the growing lights in either direction of the tunnel.

What at first was nothing more than a glow has now, beyond a doubt, taken shape of several flickering fires moving towards the same cluster of targets. Misshapen bodies cast their stretching shadows beneath the flames, obscuring dozens of shuffling feet as the pace begins to pick up. They know you’re there. They are hungry.

Glancing at the men, the darkness before them is illuminated in red and purple and the air around them is shimmering with heat.

“Let them get close.”

“Guess you’re too exhausted to think clearly, dear,” Joker chuckles but then hesitates as he sees your face, “...okay. Call it.”

... Joker ...

Smiling behind the collar, Joker recognizes the worry flashing across the other man’s face. It’s a bold plan and he isn’t sure it’s strictly necessary...but they can’t be sure what else they’ll be facing on their way out, so [Y/N]’s idea of preserving the would-be rescuers’ power for later makes sense.

“Lighten up...or not, actually,” he smiles wickedly at Shinmon, “let’s see what our girl can do, eh?”

The glare he receives from the captain is a logical response.

“[Y/N]...there’s no reason to push yourse-”

“I didn’t survive this shit just to be rescued like some fairy tale maiden.” The threatening purr combined with the half-dried blood makes her seem tantalizingly dangerous. “There’s no one to take out my revenge on, but at least I can clean up the mess I’ve made when I let the lab blow up too.”

Oh? That must be an interesting story...for later. Finding an adequate slab of broken concrete, he brushes it off and sits down. In one of the inner pockets of the coat is a pack wrapped in cellophane and he picks a cigarette from it, lighting it with a flick of his fingers. Aaah. The acrid taste fills him for a handful of seconds before it’s blown out through his nostrils together with the last hours’ worth of stress – he could almost chill for a moment if it wasn’t for Benimaru joining him by the boulder, sitting as relaxed as a statue about to crack.

“Has anyone ever told you t-”

“Shut up, Joker.”

The men relapse into silence. It’s not that the man with the hat doesn’t understand Benimaru’s sentiment: the girl’s in horrible condition and is using almost all her strength to stand, it seems. The white-clad ran from her. The image of a dying man clutching a bundle of hastily written notes is still clear in Joker’s mind. Abandoned a comrade together with a demon infernal...he didn’t think they could end it. It’s clear, though, that something did put it to rest, most likely causing the explosion at the same time. Show us what you’ve got, [Y/N).

... Benimaru ...

Like lit matches, only their heads are burning as they rush forward. At first surging for whomever is nearest until a clear shout orders them to ignore the men.

“I am what you want!”

The way the infernals all zero in on [Y/N] it really looks like she’s right and as they swarm around, pushing closer but never able to touch her, he can barely see her until he stand up on the slab of concrete.

Eye glowing bright yellow even against the infernals’ blaze, she doesn’t flinch as charred fingers scrape against the air, trying to reach her. She stands, immovable, talking calmly as if they could understand her. Maybe they can. Yes, they absolutely can and some must be accepting what she says because they stop and wait without a sound. Wait for what? A few infernals continue their struggle only to be wrapped in the arms of those standing by until finally, none of them are moving more than their dead faces.

There’s a shift in the air as [Y/N] spreads her arms, smoke and heat pushed outwards by an unseen pressure and stilling the flames of the damned.

“I’m sorry,” the woman whispers a second before tugging her fists tightly to the chest and plunging the Nether in darkness once more.

Benimaru can hear the muted sounds of clothing landing in heaps on the ground, the impact softened by dust and ashes, but the room is obscured by dark flakes filling the air to the extend that the glow from Joker’s cigarette nor the captain’s excellent vision can guarantee a view of the woman they came here for.

“Impressive,” the smoking man comments, snapping a fiery playing card out of nowhere to illuminate the space.

No one is listening to the compliment. The captain of Special Fire Force Company Seven is reaching out for the swaying figure of the woman he loves, barely making it over the heap of sooty jumpsuits in time to catch her as she collapses one more time.

“[Y/N]!” he croaks, frantically feeling for a pulse.

Eyelashes flutter for a brief second before she scrunches her face to look up at him. “Yeah yeah...I’ll let you carry me this time too.”

129 notes · View notes

yourmcu · 4 years ago

Text

Forgotten [DISCONTINUED]

Pairings: Tony Stark x daughter!reader, Peter Parker x Stark!reader (platonic)

Request:

Word count: 1,627

A/n: (to anon: I’d like to apologize for not finishing this) I don’t think I have any intention to anymore tbh so- I’m just posting this for fun now lmaolmao

hella big update: the continued version is here!

Warnings: bad angst and writing hee hee. no I’m serious this is bad

gif not mine! credits to the owner^^