#she's banged a lot more than leon has

[sapphire-weapon]

leans in really close to the mic

new hot take headcanon just dropped as a flash of brilliance while writing this fic

Ashley is more sexually experienced than Remake Leon is by the time they first meet, pass it on.

[jillsandwhichs]

Cleon Oneshots/AUs Collection , Chap 6 , Still Loveable

Masterlist

Pairing: Claire Redfield & Leon Kennedy

Summary: Claire gets hurt during a mission at terrasave & Leon visits her in the hospital

Status of their relationship in this oneshot: Dating

WC: 2.5k

Type: Sfw

A/n: Hi! Hope you all enjoy. Please check out my masterlist, there's a lot of stuff there. You can get to know me, you can see the rules of my blog and then you can see all of my fanfictions. You'll be able to find the previous chapters to this fic and upcoming ones. You'll also be able to find my Wattpad & AO3. Thank you

The bright white lights were beaming in the tranquil, pristine room. It was also quite a small room, clearly meant for only one person to be staying in, but it was extensive enough to allow visitors to stay in. It smelt very bland, as if it had no smell, it was a boring scent. There weren't many windows either, just a few along the left wall, which showed the busy outside world, people who were actually able to live their lives outside of a hospital.

Claire didn't like it here - she absolutely despised being in the hospital. If only she would've been more careful, she wouldn't have ended up here, in this plain, depressing room. All she wanted was to be back at her house, laying in her bed and watching TV or reading a book. Here, she can still do that, but not like she can back home. Now she doesn't even know when she'll be out of here, the nurses haven't given her a clear set time yet.

Her entire left side hurt, it was beyond bruised up, it was all black and purple. Her left arm was also banged up too, having red scratch marks all down it and a huge dried bloody scab on her elbow. Her body hurt, but it wasn't an unbearable pain. She's sure if she was in the comfort of her own home, she would feel a whole lot better. But alas, she has to stay here to make sure no further damage occurs to her well being.

Not only does she miss her home, Claire also misses being at work. Despite her mission at TerraSave causing her to get hurt, she doesn't really care, she just wants to get back out in the world and work, it's her ultimate passion and it's all she ever wants to do aside from being home. She misses some of her co workers, luckily a few of them have visited her. Gabe is the one she misses most, the two have a tight bond, he's like a second brother to her.

All Claire was trying to do was get her mind off of the fact she's rotting in a hospital bed mid day, when she could be at work, being productive and useful. She feels lazy, which is a feeling she hasn't even felt since her days in college, back then she was lazy, she'll admit that. Although, it's kind of hard to keep her mind off of it when all she can even hear is the sounds of the lights buzzing above her, they were clearly old and in utter need of being replaced.

Once she's all healed up, the first thing she's doing is going to HQ and asking when the next upcoming mission will be ; that is if they even let her go on one. TerraSave happens to be rather safe than sorry and sometimes they'll force workers to take breaks from serious missions after a messy injury, which Claire has sadly suffered. It's like all she can think about - working and being home.

Whilst Claire was deep in thought, she hadn't even noticed a nurse walk in. The woman seemed young, even younger than Claire. She finds it admirable that young people are working towards such tough and hard working jobs ; a nurse being a great example of that. It encourages her more than anything. "Hi Claire, I'm Kaylee, it's nice to meet you, your usual nurse had the day off today so I'm here just to check in on you!" Kaylee spoke, her tone kind. "Oh, yeah, sure." Claire responded, attempting to sit up.

"Oh, no hun, just stay layed down... You did a lot of damage to yourself." Kaylee chuckled to herself, seeming very friendly. "Yeah, guess that's what happens when you work in the force though." "I imagine so... TerraSave, correct?" "Yes, that's the organization I work for." Claire responded, her eyes gandering up at the nurse. "What's your position there?" Kaylee questioned, holding a clipboard in one hand and a pen in the other, most likely needing to gather some info from Claire.

"I'm a representative for the company." Claire answered, sliding some of her loose hair behind her ear, although it hurt her arm a bit, she still wasn't recovered at all. "Nice... And your organization just basically helps people and the aftermath of terrorist attacks? Or just attacks in general?" "Pretty much, yeah." Claire spoke, her tone brittle. "I see now... And how exactly did you end up injuring yourself?" "Well, I was on top of this steel platform, trying to get a better angle of where our missing chopper was, because it literally vanished, then boom, the platform starts swaying and I fell from it onto a rock, it fucking hurt." Claire snorted, rubbing her temple. "I bet." Kaylee replied, her tone empathetic.

"I'm honestly surprised you're okay, for the most part. You bruised your ribs pretty good and your entire arm is scratched up and it's swelled... Like a lot... You're a tough girl." Kaylee complimented, placing the clipboard down. "Thanks, I try." Claire tittered, sighing deeply to herself, her eyes staring down at the white marble floor, Claire imagined it was cold to be barefoot on, but at least the cot was warm enough.

"Alright well, thank you for answering those questions, I appreciate any information I can get." Kaylee stated, smiling kindly at Claire before speaking once more, "Oh and by the way, Barbara, the receptionist currently working told me that you have a visitor on the way, not much has been told to me but I know their name is Leon, does that ring any bells?" Kaylee asked, seeming skeptical. "Oh, yes, that's my boyfriend. Jesus, in all honesty I forgot about him." Claire giggled, she wasn't being serious but she won't lie, he wasn't on her mind much.

"Don't worry, you hit your head and got hurt, you tend to worry about yourself more than others which is valid in this situation but I'll keep your secret." Kaylee reassured her. "Thanks." Claire chuckled, folding her arms. "Yeah... Anywho, I'll see you soon, I'll check your vitals and all that good stuff in about an hour or two, will you be okay until then?" "Yeah, don't worry about me!" Claire expressed, giving Kaylee the queue to know she could leave not worrisome. "Okay then, just hit the button on the right side of your cot to alert a nurse and one of us will come to you, sound good?" "Yep!" "Alrighty then, bye bye Claire." Kaylee said with a bright, cheerful grin before walking out of the room.

Breathing out deeply, Claire reverted her eyes to the TV directly in front of her bed. It was a small, black square one and it was mounted onto the wall. What was playing was Steve Irwin, the guy was playing with some Cheetahs, it was adorable. Sadly, the man had passed away not to long ago, Claire remembered how girls at her high school fawned over him. She has no doubt girls will continue doing it once his son is older.

Through the small windows in the compact room, Claire spotted a few different breeds of birds finding their ways to the sills of them, relaxing and pecking away at whatever goods they were able to acquire. Claire adored wildlife, it was so natural, like truly. It isn't even debatable. It sort of kept her mind off of the fact she was hurt pretty badly, but nevertheless, she would recover soon, it's just a matter of time.

Lost in her own thoughts, Claire was startled when she suddenly heard the door creak open, black shoes were visible from the bottom, indicating it was Leon. He must've just gotten out of work, he dresses quite nicely for it too. "Leon?" Claire spoke aloud, hoping it'd be him. "I'm here babygirl." He said back to her, opening the door fully to show himself off. He looked as handsome as ever.

"Hi." Claire mumbled, tilting her head upwards, catching a glimpse of his face. "Hi baby... You doing okay?" Leon questioned, striding over to her cot and immediately grabbing her hand, knowing to be careful, despite it being her not damaged arm. "Yes, I'm okay, just sore and hungry." Claire responded, her voice soft & timid. "I imagine honey, I heard you had quite the fall. Pedro told me you were unconscious afterwards, I wish I could've been there, my love." Leon spoke with sincere, he felt horrible that he couldn't be there for her the day it happened.

"It's okay, you were at work, you aren't obligated to come to my rescue." Claire tittered, beaming at him with love plastered on her face. "I kind of am though..." Leon whispered, caressing her hand with his thumb. "You said you were hungry?" "Yeah, I haven't eaten since yesterday, before all this happened." Claire chuckled, sighing deeply to herself. "I can pick you up some food here in a bit, I don't need you trying to eat this shitty hospital food." Leon snickered, firmly holding her hand, making sure she knew he was there for her.

"It's okay, I'll live." "No, I insist, I can get you whatever you'd like, from wherever." Leon insisted, sitting down in the chair beside her hospital bed, being careful to not bump anything. "Well... A bagel from the bakery sounds good." Claire giggled, gazing up at her man. "You ask and you shall receive." Leon smirked down at his girl. "Before you go, just stay here for a bit, it's been literally two days since I've seen you." "Okay beautiful, I'm more than happy to stay here with you... When will you be able to come home?" "Don't know yet, I imagine I'll find out when the nurse checks my vitals again." Claire replied.

"Okay. Whenever you're able to, whether it be tonight or tomorrow or whenever, I'll bring you back to my place, it'll be safer that way. Pedro told me you're getting some time off, he told me you were pretty rough looking." Leon heaved, letting go of her hand and moving it to her hair, slowly running his fingers through it. "I bet I was." Claire blew out, adjusting her upper half and attempting to turn her body to get a better view of Leon. "No, just stay there, you're so stubborn." Leon chuckled. "I just wanna be able to move again." "Give it a day or two babygirl."

Claire cutely rolled her eyes and let out another deep breath, she seemed very bored of this place, which Leon didn't blame her. He wishes that she could be home, with him. It's all he wanted for her. "Come here." Leon mumbled, standing up and drawing himself closer to her body, embracing her with open arms. Claires lips formed a half smile whilst she wrapped her right arm around him, using her fingers to grasp onto his shirt.

Leon nuzzled his head into her neck, breathing gently and taking in this moment with stride. He was grateful she was okay, he doesn't know what he would've done if she would've gotten more injured than she already is, or worse. Leon can't imagine a world where Claire isn't his soulmate. "I'm glad you're ok." Leon uttered out in her ear, kissing her cheek a couple times before officially pulling away. "I love you Claire." "Me too and I love you more, Leon." Claire said, her heart was swelling with care and love for him.

"Do I look dumb at all? My hair is a mess, I haven't showered in two days and my entire left side is just beyond beat up... Ugh..." Claire scoffed. "No, no babygirl, you look fantastic always. You could like..." Leon stopped in thought before finishing his sentence, "You could have literal shit smeared on your face and I'd still view you as perfection." Leon laughed, lightening the mood. "Ew, you sicko." Claire chortled, slapping his arm lightly. "Just speaking my mind." He mumbled out to her.

"Oh, by the way, Chris let me know he's gonna fly down from New York to check on you. I wouldn't dare try and deny his request." Leon joked, he somewhat feared Chris but respectively. "What? Why? I'm fine! That's a waste of money, he has absolutely no reason. Oh Jesus." Claire groaned out. She wasn't a teenager anymore, yet he still tries his best to take care of like she is. "Hun, he's your big brother, he's going to worry." "I get that, yes, but it's beyond unnecessary, I'm okay." "Well, it's your problem now, not mine." Leon teased, pinching her cheek playfully.

Leon leaned over towards her face and planted a gentle, warm kiss on her lips, breathing in her scent as he did so. He felt a load of sorrow deep within him. Seeing his girlfriend hurt like this was the last sight he wanted to bare. And when she had asked, "Do I look dumb?" He just felt his heart break a little bit. He was never much of the soppy type, but Claire has definitely made him softer, more affectionate. She will always be his love, she'll always be loveable, no matter what state she's in.

He kept the kiss going for a bit longer, very lightly touching her hip considering it was the bruised up one. Claire's right hand held onto his forearm, her eyes were closed too. "I just wish I could've visited you sooner, I'm sorry that I was working." Leon spoke, his tone blue. "No need honey, I understand. I'm just appreciative that you're here now, that's all that matters Leon." "I'm glad beautiful. I'll make sure you get home soon, I don't need you stuck here in a hospital." "Trust me, I know." Claire tittered. "I can't wait to get back to work." Claire exclaimed.

"Well sweetheart, I hope you understand you aren't going back anytime soon, you need time to heal, you could've... You just really got hurt, alright?" "I'll go back whenever I feel okay." Claire pleaded. "No Claire, you'll go back once your body is okay. You're so stubborn and so damn ambitious, it's attractive." Leon laughed, telling her how he felt. "I got my ways." Claire snickered. "But seriously, I want to get back to work asap, I hate being lazy, you know that." "This isn't lazy, this is called recovery, you need it babygirl." Leon persisted. "Fine." Claire sighed, laying her head back onto the hard yet comfortable white pillow.

"You're dramatic." Leon teased, plopping back down into the chair and gleaming at her. "How about I go get your bagel, how's that sound?" "Yes, please, I can feel my empty stomach each time I move." Claire chuckled, tossing her right hand onto her lower stomach. "Ok. I'll be back soon, just hang tight and don't fall asleep on me, yeah?" Leon spoke, pulling his head down to hers and pecking her forehead with carefulness.

"I'll be back, I love you." Leon stated, kissing her lips quickly before beginning to tread lightly out of Claire's hospital room. "Love you more handsome." Claire responded, waving goodbye with her healed hand.

[proselles]

This is an updated compilation of all stories I have written under the pseudonym roselles. I've been writing a fairly long time, under a lot of different names, but I've finally come back to this account, where I think I will stay. I think it is more convenient to post everything I write here, rather than make separate posts. Only works I post under roselles will be posted here.

I hope you enjoy my stories! Thank you for reading!

Jujutsu Kaisen:

Future Less Vivid

Status: 9/17

Summary: They’re tangled together on the couch when Satoru brings up the boy with the sweetgum hair.

“He’s sorta scrappy looking,” Satoru describes poorly. “Short.”

“Short?” Satoru doesn’t need to see Suguru to know he’s giving Satoru a look - the one where he wrinkles up his chin and mouth, the one that says stop being stupid Satoru. It’s a common enough facial expression in the apartment. “Satoru, it sounds like he’s six. They’re all that height. It’s not their fault that you’re ungodly tall.”

--------

There are a lot of secrets being kept in Tokyo.

Death the Conspiracy

Status: 1/1

Summary: (Dear whoever it may concern,

We regret to inform you that your loved one, Nobara Kugisaki, has passed away.)

--------

After she gets a devastating email, Fumi starts an unrelenting search for her girlfriend.

S4 EP1: Dead Giveaway

Status: 1/1

Summary: There’s a man that looks like Megumi on Nobara’s favorite guilty pleasure show, Extreme Cheapskates. They steal Gojo’s credit card to go investigate.

Meanwhile, Gojo resumes body-building.

Resident Evil:

A couple years the better of me

Status: 1/1

Summary: Both of their soulmates are dead by their bloody hands. Maybe it’s fate.

Albert Wesker v.s. the Institution of Holy Matrimony

Status: 1/3

Summary: “I cannot be co-parents-in-law with Wesker,” Chris insists, jabbing his finger at the man.

“If he were here,” Wesker shoots back waspishly, “I’m sure he’d tell you it’s no great dream of his either.”

They glare at each other. Chris resists the urge to pick back up where they left off in Africa and dropkick the fuck into an active volcano. Or, considering there probably weren’t any active volcanoes in his vicinity, nuke him into the next planetary system.

“What the fuck is a co-parent-in-law?” Muller finally snaps, banging his hand against the table.

---------

(chris is married to leon who’s adopted sherry and sherry’s marrying jake whose father is wesker and its all really petty)

My Hero Academia (old)

float on. - discontinued

Status: 24/?

Summary:

There's something exceedingly strange that's changing the world around him, but Izuku can't quite put his finger on what it is-

He probably should be able to. If he wants to live, that is.

Turns out that no one is to be trusted and the world is out to get him. He knew the last part, but the first part? Not so much, not as intimately. Maybe he had never gotten close enough to anyone to know. Maybe he had never really trusted anyone before. Maybe they had all betrayed him without his knowledge.

Maybe...

Through lies and murder, maybe Izuku could final carve his way out of hell.

Please don't stop smiling. Please.

Baiseman

Status: 1/1

Summary: Izuku’s soul mark broke almost seconds after it had appeared. It was a few months after his own birthday, on January eleventh, which told him three things about his soulmate;

One- They were born on January eleventh.

Two- They were watching for the soul mark just as closely as Izuku had been, if not for the same reasons.

Three- They didn’t want him.

[here-have-some-stories]

Massacre Masquerade Chapter 11

Chapter 1 Chapter 10

Warning: This chapter has descriptions of blood and gore. If you aren't comfortable with that you can either skip the paragraph or not read. There is a tiny bit during the second paragraph, and a lot during the fifth paragraph because that's the entire point.

Leon immediately ran over to the now collapsed ceiling, Deacon and Bailey following close behind him. As Leon approached he saw two people dragging themselves out from under the wreckage. One of them had a giant gash down their arm and the other one's leg had already started to bruise badly all over. Leon was willing to bet that it was broken, probably in more than one place. The two people appeared to be shaken up pretty badly and in a lot of shock, as expected, but other than that they were just injured, but fine. Leon watched tensely, but nobody else crawled out from under the roof. 

Around him, people were screaming once again. They were running around trying to get away from the new crime scene. Someone in a clown themed suit appeared to have gone into a panic attack at the sight of some blood slowly seeping out from under the ceiling. A couple of people had somehow gotten into an argument during the commotion and were now screaming at each other. 

Leon noticed Bailey was standing close to his side, practically touching him, and Deacon was standing slightly behind him. Bailey had her fingers in her ears trying to block out the noise. Leon wanted to reach out and touch her, reassure her that things would be alright, but didn’t know how she’d react. In addition, he didn’t fully believe things would be fine.

It took a couple of minutes, but the inspectors finally managed to push their way through the panicked crowd and to the scene. Leon watched as they gathered around the fallen portion of the ceiling and they all grabbed onto the edges of it, lifting it off the people. With their combined strength they did manage to lift it a couple inches, but it was enough to move it to the side to clear. It took each inspector a lot of effort and exerted all their strength to the task, but they managed it. 

Leon noticed Deacon blanch and look away, and he was tempted to do the same. All eight people who had been stuck under the ceiling, were lying there, not moving. A lot of them had giant cuts all over their bodies that were heavily bleeding out, and had dark black and blue bruises all over their bodies. One of them must have been holding a glass before the disaster, as it had smashed and pieces of glass were now deeply embedded into their hand and arm, blood flowing heavily from the wounds. They could all now see where the pool of blood seeping out had come from, and it was the most disturbing sight out of all of it. One of the victims' skulls had been completely smashed open. The ceiling must have hit them at a certain angle and with a lot of force to achieve something as gruesome as that. With their head one hundred percent cracked open, blood seeped extensively from it. Leon was pretty sure he could see the person's brain past the broken bone and blood. This time he did look away. He also became aware of Bailey gripping tightly to his arm. She had her eyes closed and was taking in measured, controlled breaths, trying to stay calm.

Leon felt a hand on his shoulder and turned around to see Deacon. His friend gently led him and Bailey away from the horrific sight and Leon offered no resistance. He wanted to get away from there as soon as possible. 

People were still panicking, and not knowing where to go, most of the building's occupants were still running around. People were still trying their best to stay away from each other and the scene, and with that came a lot of people banging into each other. As Deacon moved Leon and Bailey through the crowd, someone banged heavily into Bailey, making her fall to the ground. 

Bailey was already on the brink of having a meltdown, and the little crash was about to bring her to her breaking point. She shakily began to stand up, using Leon’s leg as a way of support. Tears were already starting to blur her vision, but despite this, she managed to spot something a couple metres away from her. Wiping her eyes, she half crawled, half crouched towards it. She picked it up and showed it to her brother and her friend.

“What’s that?” Deacon asked.

“I don’t know,” Bailey mumbled. “I found it on the ground. It’s smashed real bad but it looks like a remote or something.”

“Do you think it has something to do with the ceiling?” Deacon asked. Almost everyone in the building had concluded already that the roof collapsing was not an accident. Leon looked at Deacon.

“Don’t you think that's a bit of a stretch?”

“Maybe,” Deacon admitted. “But it could also be right. Maybe the remote made the ceiling drop or something. Then whoever did it dropped the remote and let everyone crush it with their big fat feet.”

“It’s still a stretch,” Bailey said.

“But it could still be true,” Deacon pointed out, sticking to his theory.

“Lets move to the side,” Leon suggested. They were standing practically in the middle of the crowd and had been bumped into multiple times. He was starting to get sick of it. Bailey nodded her agreement and they moved their conversation against the wall. At least now they were a bit of a distance away from the people, both dead and alive.

I know this was kind of a weird place to cut the chapter off, but the next part of their convo is apart of the next chapter. I hope you enjoyed it and if you read that part, enjoyed the graphic descriptions of blood. At least I hope it was graphic. That was what I was trying to achieve so yeah. If you have any comments or feedback please give em because I love reading them. If you have any story suggestions that you want me to write, you can send me an ask and I'll eventually try to get to it. Just read my pinned post first because that gives out the shit I will and will not do. Once again, I hope you enjoyed it, have a good day, byeeee.

[ashiemochi]

anubussy - xii (i)

✠ Anubussy ↳ sorry, i don't want your touch ↳↳ it's not that i don't want you

➶ pairing: OC x Leon S(exy) Kennedy. ➶ genre: fluff, more angst, gore, longer smut/suggestive themes ➶ word count: no

NOTE: ✠ = time skip ✠✠ = switching povs/characters

prev -> next

When I was a kid… I never thought my life would turn out this way.

The vaccine was being distributed with the canisters open by the wide raft of the Osprey that was flying over the city. The shimmering particles were healing all the infected that were roaming the ground, returning them back to humans. 

Rebecca was sitting on the opposite side of Chris with a blanket around her to keep her warm from the upcoming Autumn breeze. Both were the ones closer to the raft with the other two, Leon and So Ah, further from it. 

So Ah was laying down on the bench at Rebecca’s side, visibly shivering and quietly whimpering. Her bad arm was over her torso with her fingers twitching at the pain. 

Leon was kneeling on the ground next to her, his jacket over her and leaving him in a dark blue long-sleeved shirt. His arm was pressed next to her head, gently brushing away her damp bangs from her face. A deep frown was on his lips, sensing the heat of her fever emitting from her skin. 

Her injuries were still ever so slowly healing but they weren’t fast enough to his liking. Back in China, he watched her twisted ankle mend up in an instant to rush her to her sister.

But right now, it was as if the virus was dissipating. For once, he didn’t want the pathogen to leave her system as much as she did. 

“And once again, we find ourselves back where we started.” Rebecca said, as if sad.

Chris tilted his head in her direction, “What do you mean?”

“We got the bad guys.” She continued, “Hope we made the world a little safer.”

Yeah, like hell that would happen. Not when those corrupted officials keep finding ways to recreate the virus with different strains that are always more complicated than the other. 

It was a dead dream to want the world to be safe.

Leon muttered, confused yet utterly hurt, “Why won’t it work, So Ah…?”

Chris looked over at his friend and he piped in, “She still cares about you, you know? Why else would she take your place?”

“She said it herself,” Leon said, not taking his eyes off of her, “It was guilt.”

“And you believe her?”

Leon went quiet for a bit, finding his comment suspicious. After all, she came with Chris and Rebecca – meaning, he knew where he found her.

“You know what’s going on with her, don’t you?”

Chris pressed his lips into a thin line before speaking, “It’s not my place to tell you.”

“This has been going on for too damn long, Chris, and she clearly would rather die than tell me anything,” Leon snapped, twisting his head around to glare at him, “What the hell is going on with my wife, Redfield?”

The BSAA operator stared at him silently, glancing over at Rebecca then he sighed, leaning back with his arms folded against his chest.

“One of my men has been keeping me updated on her. She…” He searched for the right words to say, “She had a personal vendetta against the BSAA’s medical researchers. So, that department suffered from numerous attacks and a lot of our doctors and scientists were killed by her. Assassinated.”

No way that was the truth.

Leon didn’t want to believe that the woman would pull something like this. She never enjoyed taking any lives. If anything, she wouldn’t stoop down that low for no reason. She wouldn’t kill for sport – not at all.

Chris ended, clearly lying, “That’s all I know.”

Leon looked back at So Ah, soft shock on his features with his parted lips. All the hesitance she had around him, the secrecy – something was not adding up. Empty holes filled the explanation.

He turned his eyes to Chris, not believing him – or probably refusing to do so, “Why do I feel like there’s something else you’re not telling me?”

Chris’ brow twitched. He really didn’t want to reveal something as big as the tracker – that wasn’t his job. While he wanted the best for them, he didn’t want to get in the middle. 

Before he could open his mouth, an audible whimper emitted from So Ah and it caught Leon’s attention in a blink of an eye. 

“Eom–ma… Appa…” She whispered weakly, her hand beginning to shake and pat around as if searching for her parents’ presence, “Jae… Jaehyun…”

Leon’s heart broke as he trailed his eyes down to her fingers that were barely reaching out. He let her hold onto his hand and a soft trembling sigh escapes from her lips, visibly relaxing. 

The corners of his lips curled downwards, brows furrowing in the centre as he gazed down at her accessory. His thumb brushed over the ring she wore, reminiscing the night he saw her at the start of the aisle.

“It’s a beautiful ring.” Rebecca complimented it with a gentle smile.

Leon chuckled faintly, lovingly, “Should’ve seen her at the wedding.”

The smile on his face dropped; both of them really didn’t know their lives would come to this. Just a little less than a year ago, they were happier than ever, dancing and swaying the night away with all their friends and families. 

It was scary how things change over time.

“Hey, Chris.” 

“Yeah?”

“How much longer can we keep going on like this?” Leon asked tiredly, looking over at him. 

“I don’t know…” Chris released a sigh, leaning forward onto his arms before looking at him with a light-hearted smile, quoting him, “I never make plans that far ahead.”

Leon shook his head with a faint huff, shutting his eyes for a moment. A hum came from his wife, taking his attention only to see her tilting her face to his touches. 

They were going to get through this. 

He vowed so.

✠✠

Gran Hyatt Seoul Seoul, South Korea Wedding Day

Talk about getting cold feet – literally. 

Her anxiety was sky-high, everything was utterly overwhelming. Nothing was wrong or out of the ordinary. Her appearance was as perfect as one can be, and the decorations of the venue were exactly as they had planned. 

She couldn’t handle being in her room any longer. With the windows open for fresh air, she still felt suffocated. The jitters were making it very hard for her to stay composed and the goddamn heels sucked absolute ass. The girl would wobble left and right like a drunken sailor on a swaying boat. 

So really, her feet were actually cold. 

She could only imagine her mom’s and best friend’s horror when they go to the bride’s room only to find a pair of rose-gold fancy stilettos – and nothing, no one, else.

✠✠

So Ah had gone missing. The wedding was about to start any minute now and every close member of the family was out looking for the little Road Runner.

Leon was walking briskly down the spacious halls of the hotel, letting his hawk eyes look for a certain bride. He, being the groom, was in his room, chatting with Chris about how he really didn’t believe this day would even arrive. 

Because it was true – with his line of work, he fully expected he’d be engaged for the rest of his life with little to no time to plan a wedding. Being one of the DSO’s top agents, the higher-ups gave him several months off to prepare for the event – and even gifted both him and his soon-to-be wife a grand gift. 

It was a month-long trip to Hawaii. 

When So Ah revealed to her family the wedding plans, they instantly jumped to help, with Sena being the most excited one of them all. She was quick to throw suggestions to the point Leon laughed at her hyperactivity. 

It was decided to be spent in Seoul as most of her family and friends were there – yet the wedding held some Western aspects. Just for the fun of it. 

Leon and So Ah checked the venue, listening to the planner ramble on and on about their services. In fact, the girl was the one listening to the man, Leon was in his own world, staring in awe at the venue. 

It was an instant yes from him before she could turn and ask for his opinion. He really couldn’t hide his own excitement. 

It took weeks and weeks to finish planning. So Ah’s social anxiety and overthinking prevented her from catching a wink of sleep. Leon was there to coax her back to bed, reassuring her that everything was going to be perfect. 

That was until Jaehyun, her older brother, burst through the doors with shock written all over his face. He was breathing heavily when he spoke; “So Ah… She’s gone.”

Leon’s heart fell to his stomach at this and nearly spat out his drink. Rushing out of the room, he left his blazer behind, the sleeves of his white button-up shirt rolled up. 

She was really about to pull a Green Life now?

Leon caught a glimpse of her closest friend, ChoHee, walking as fast as she could. She wore a long slim a-line dress of the colour baby pink, reaching her ankles. The cone heels she wore were of the same colour. 

She gave him an apologetic look as she went past him, phone to her ear, “C’mon, So Ah. Pick up!”

Leon cussed under his breath, turning the corner and he saw Jaehyun coming towards his direction.

“Anything?” Leon asked him and he shook his head.

“No,” Jaehyun huffed, turning towards him whilst walking backwards, “She was always good at hide and seek.” Then he skipped down the hall.

A negative thought weaselled its way into his head. So Ah had kept this whole thing on hold for a good reason, and only decided to change her mind because he wanted to start planning the wedding. Maybe she never wanted any of this. 

Yet he remembers how she was the one who wanted everything to go the way she had expected. Her artistic mind pictured every nook and cranny; from the decorations and catering service, all the way to where and how should the guests be. 

Leon brushed his side bangs almost uneasily. Even his hair was styled, having the left side of his hair pushed to settle behind his ear and the other side remained as it is. 

He was committed.

Having slowed down to a stop in front of the main room, the aisle, he saw the guests chatting lively about the decor, moving to find their seats. 

“Leon!” 

He turned to face Claire running up to him with a familiar phone in hand. Her slipdress was her signature red colour and her high heels were similar to that of ChoHee’s. 

She offered it to him, softly panting. 

“Found her phone.” She said as he took it, “It was left in her room.”

There were numerous missed calls and texts from Sena, ChoHee, Jaehyun, and even her dad, Michael. Her phone lit up again; another call from the CEO of Green Life. Ah, her phone wasn’t off – it was muted.

“God damn it, So Ah.” Leon muttered.

“She couldn’t have run off, Leon.” Claire gave him a sympathetic look, “She’s gotta be around here somewhere. Maybe one of the receptionists saw her.”

“Okay…” Leon nodded, releasing a deep sigh as he put her phone into his pocket and took out his, “You ask if they saw her. Call me if you find anything.”

“Of course,” Claire chuckled lightly, giving him a pat on the back as she went to move past him, “I mean, how hard is it to spot a woman in a wedding dress?”

With So Ah, she could be in a Barney costume and still find a way to hide.

Leon scrolled through his contacts as he walked briskly down the hall – maybe he could check the bar this time.

“Chris, did you find her?” Leon asked, hurriedly.

“Not yet.” Chris answered, “She’s nowhere in the garden.”

In the distance, he heard Piers joking, “Maybe she’s got cold feet.”

“Less talking, and more looking, Piers.” Chris warned, hiding his chuckle, “Don’t mind him, Leon. We’ll find her.”

The call dropped as that negative thought returned. Leon shook his head as if to get rid of it, muttering to himself, “Hope you’re wrong, Nivans.”

✠

Leon stopped at the end of the hallway for a moment to breathe, turning his head to the left at the quick clicking of heels. Sena was running around with a pair of heels in her hands. 

Being the parent, her dress would be the second to stand out from the bridesmaids – the first being the wedding dress itself. It was sky-blue with the straps going around her neck. 

What would make her stand out would be the sheer veil hanging over her elbows, going perfectly with her slim a-line dress. Her hair was done in a low bun, using a fancy golden hairpin to keep her side bangs in place.

Her eyes met his and she let out a sigh of relief, “Oh, dear, Leon. Please tell me you found her.”

Leon shook his head with a frown, looking down at his phone for a miracle text from Claire, telling him that she found his bride – but nada.

“That stupid girl, on this memorable day too?” Sena groaned stressfully, showing him the heels, “She even left her heels behind and ran off.” She looked over her shoulder, worried, “Poor girl must be nervous.”

“What about Mr Han?” Leon asked, “Did he find anything?”

“He’s been calling her cell but she isn’t picking up.” Sena replied, making him almost roll his eyes, unimpressed with the whole outcome.

He took out her phone from his pocket with a fake smile, “She left her phone.”

Sena scoffed, her motherly nature kicking in, “Running off without her heels and phone? Might as well give me a heart attack next.”

“Do you know how cold these floors are?” She ranted, “Anyone could easily catch a cold!”

A chuckle came from him, shaking his head lightly. Her daughter might be missing yet she was worried about a flu. She wasn’t wrong though, the marble floors were cold. Maybe it slipped her mind that So Ah can’t really get sick anymore.

“If you’re So Ah,” Leon asked, “Where would you go when you’re anxious?”

“Some place private and quiet,” Sena answered before sighing, giving him a helpless look, “But guests are everywhere, where could she be?”

Leon thought about it, putting himself in her shoes – or heels in this case. The Grand Hyatt had an outdoor venue on the roof. When they first checked it, So Ah wanted to see the rooftop. 

Leon had to convince her to leave and later on one of their quiet nights in their house, he found her fallen asleep over her work desk with a pencil hanging loosely from her fingers. Observing the sketch she was working on, it was the same sight that she had seen from the roof.

It overlooked the modern city of Seoul along with the Han River – one of the first sightseeing places he’d visited – and all their eighteen beautifully landscaped acres.

It clicked in his head. 

“I may have an idea.” Leon told Sena before running past her, heading straight to the elevator.

Please be there.

✠

The sky had shifted its hues to a blurred mixture of oranges, reds, and purples. Sunset was close, coating everything in its golden hour. 

Leon walked out of the building, eyes scanning the spacious poolside for his bride – and there she was, sitting behind one of the many planted trees. They were short enough for the brushes of leaves to partially hide her from anyone’s sight. 

But he wasn’t just anyone. 

A sense of relief washed over him as he made his way around the pool, calling out, “Knew I’d find you here.”

“Leon?”

The delicate voice eased his nerves when she perked up. He watched her figure stand up and quickly tug the rest of her pooling dress to her side.

“Don’t come any closer.” So Ah spoke fast, “You can’t see me.”

“Why, because it’s bad luck?” Leon chuckled, putting his hands into his pockets as he stayed in his distant spot, “You were always the superstitious one.”

“No, it’s…” So Ah’s form tensed a bit, “I don’t want you to see how I look. At least not now.”

“Okay, whatever you wish, princess.” Leon affirmed and through the leaves, he could pick up on her turning her head over her shoulder.

“I need a minute…” She said, voice clearly shaking, “I’ll be down in a sec.”

Leon trailed his eyes down to the gown peeking from the corner of the hedge, trying to lighten up the mood, “Don’t tell me you’re getting cold feet now.”

“What?! No, no!” She objected, shaking her head profusely, “I’m just… It’s a lot of people, Leon.”

“It’s a wedding – our wedding. There’s bound to be a handful of people.”

“I know, I know… but still, what if something goes wrong?”

Ah, here she goes.

Leon asked, indulging in her overthinking habit, “Like what?”

“Like what if I trip?” She started rambling, “Or, or, what if I drop the ring – oh my god, what if I mess up my vows?! Oh, god, that’d be so embarrassing!”

“So Ah,” Leon stopped her with a short breathily laugh, “You know, I’m nervous too.”

“... Really?”

“Are you kidding?” He huffed, slowly moving closer, “I haven’t been able to stay in one position for more than a minute. If I have to check on our guests or the food one more time, I’ll probably go insane.”

So Ah giggled at this and he couldn’t help but smile at the sound. Her voice dropped to a soft whisper, nervously, “You… You don’t regret this, do you? This wedding?”

“Of course, I don’t, So Ah.” Leon stopped right behind the tree, remembering what she asked of him and he sighed, turning around so his back was facing her, “I know you said we could’ve signed on it but I wanted this. I wanted to do all of this since the day I got down on one knee for you, buttercup.”

“I want this too…” So Ah glanced to the side, barely seeing his figure, “I don’t want anything to go wrong, Leon.”

“It won’t.” He reassured, offering his hand, “Today is going to be perfect.”

She took his hand and Leon smiled at the delicacy of her skin, thumb caressing the back of her hand as he gazed at her perfectly manicured nails. He could feel her subtle tremors. 

“Okay… I think I’m ready.” She released a big sigh, “Thank you, Leon.”

“No problem,” He hummed before an idea popped into his head, “Hey, can you close your eyes for a moment?”

She repeated, puzzled, “Close my eyes? Why?”

“Just do it.” Leon convinced her, “I’ll keep mine closed too, don’t worry.”

“O… Okay…” She spoke as if growing shy, “Uhm, they’re closed.”

Leon’s hand trailed up her arm, shutting his eyes in the process as he let his muscle memory take over. He walked to her side of the hedge, feeling the coolness of her skin beneath his hand going over her shoulder. A small gasp came from her, emitting a chuckle from him.

“Eyes closed, sweetheart.”

His palm rested right under her jawline, thumb gently brushing over her bottom lip as if trying to locate it. He felt her sigh and lean against his touch, her own hand going to his arm. His other hand had situated on her waist, pulling her close. 

Tilting his head down, Leon pressed his lips against hers, swallowing the faint surprised sound. Her eyes squeezed shut in an attempt to really keep them closed. Her lips felt softsoft against his and he could taste that cherry chapstick she always applied.

It was a simple but meaningful kiss. It brought them comfort and eased her anxious thoughts away. 

One last kiss as an engaged couple.

Leon pulled away, a teasing smile on his lips when he felt her attempt to reconnect their lips, “You better have those eyes closed.”

“I only hope you’re doing the same.” She chimed back, lightly pinching his arm. 

“Didn’t see a thing.” He laughed as he moved away to be behind the hedge and turned around to leave, opening his eyes, “See you at the end of the aisle, Mrs Kennedy.”

✠✠

Gentle music echoed down the vast halls as the bride was rummaging through her closet. Sneaking back to the room was as easy as sneaking out. All of the guests were in awe of the decorations and whatnot, allowing her to slip past anyone who knew her. 

So Ah couldn’t find the heels. The wedding was starting and she couldn’t find her heels. 

Before her anxious state could send her spiralling into a panic attack, the door slammed open to reveal a heavy-breathing Sena. Her mother’s eyes widened, gasping when she saw So Ah in the room, clearly looking for her heels. Right behind her were two of her three bridesmaids; ChoHee and Sherry Birkin.

ChoHee being the maid of honour.

“Oh, you have no idea how much I want to ground you right now.” Sena scolded, approaching her and putting down the heels in front of her, “But there’s no time, come on!”

“Grounding me when I’m thirty-three, eomma?” So Ah asked, using the vanity as leverage to slip them on.

“You’ll always be a little girl to me, honey.” Sena shot back, looking around her, “Dear, where are the veil and the tiara?”

“Oh, right here, Miss Kim.” Sherry picked the veil up from over the chair and gave it to her. 

“Running off? Really?” ChoHee raised an eyebrow, moving around her to get the accessory from the couch. 

“You get married first, then we’ll talk about me running off.” So Ah muttered childishly, giving Sherry a sheepish look when she giggled. 

ChoHee showed off her engagement ring with a grin, “Right behind you, sweet cheeks.”

“Stop bickering and more touch-ups!” Sena urged, setting the tiara on her daughter’s hair after fixing the veil. 

Her mother went to the vanity, picking up the lip gloss before going back to her, “Veil up.”

“Eomma, calm down.” So Ah tried to speak whilst Sena fixed up her lips, finding her frantic state anxiety-inducing. 

Sena stopped for a moment to gather a deep breath, nodding as she was aware of her anxiety, “You’re right. You’re right.”

“Girls,” She faced Sherry and ChoHee who were subtly trying to fix their hair, “You can go join Mr Han – we’ll meet up with you there.”

“Of course,” Sherry nodded then gave So Ah a smile, “Good luck out there.”

“Yeah, don’t pull a Sonic again.” ChoHee teased, earning an unimpressed look from her best friend.

“Don’t forget your flowers!” Sena reminded them before they left, which they hurriedly took and went out. 

So Ah looked at her mom nervously, “Eomma, I’m scared.”

“You’ll do okay, honey.” Sena reassured, cupping her cheeks with a tearful smile, “He’s one lucky man to have such a precious girl like you.”

The Han girl’s eyes stung, biting the inside of her cheek with a meek smile and she hugged her close, “Thank you, eomma – for everything.” 

“Awh, don’t make your old mother cry and ruin her make-up right now.” Sena scolded lightly, chuckling as she returned the hug before she pulled away a little, “Let’s go before they think something’s wrong.”

✠

Michael saw his wife holding onto his daughter’s hand, helping her walk as fast as possible to the entrance of the aisle. All of her bridesmaids were there; along with Helena Harper. Jaehyun’s two kids, Yebin and Yisoo in matching pink dresses. 

It had been seven years since they visited her back in Los Angeles – the little girls were now thirteen years old. 

They were nudging one another, bickering to themselves as the other would nab the flower petals from the other’s basket. Next to them stood Chun-Hee, Minji’s six-year-old daughter. She was minding her own business, playing with her own petals.

“I’ll handle it from here, my lotus.” Michael assured his wife, pecking her cheek.

Sena sniffled and nodded, turning to her daughter one last time, “I’ll be in the front seat in case you need me, okay?”

“Okay, eomma.”

Jitters filled her once again as she let out a shaking sigh, looking over at her dad. Whilst he wasn’t the most emotional man you’d meet, his eyes had grown gentle. 

He had assisted in planning Minji’s and Jaehyun’s weddings – he walked his eldest daughter down the aisle and now he was about to do the same to his youngest one. The entirety of the Han family knew something was missing; someone. Having her around would make the overall wedding the perfect of all weddings.

But alas, there was no way of that. They could only move forward.

The Han girl tried to take a peek into the room but stopped herself, straightening up and looking at her bridesmaids, “Is he there?”

“Not yet,” Helena answered and Sherry joined in.

“He’ll be there any second now, so you can take the time to breathe.”

“If I have more time, I think I’d just chicken out instead.” So Ah mumbled, turning her eyes to her nieces with a smile, “Look at you three, pretty little princesses.”

Yisoo instantly blushed, looking down at herself, “I don’t know… My dress seems off.”

While Yebin was okay with dressing up and being eccentric just like her dad, Yisoo took more of her mother. She kept to herself, enjoyed reading books, and drawing fancy out-of-the-world dresses. She was more on the timid side, preferring to play with her Barbie dolls rather than go to the playground park. 

While she was reserved, she was also assertive in a way – that girl could make a PowerPoint about why she deserves an extra cookie before bed. The topic of princess movies was still her top favourite, with her twin sister being into horror movies. 

“No way, it’s not!” So Ah gasped, shaking her head before squatting down to be around her height, “Your dress looks perfectly fine!”

She pointed with a pout at Yebin’s dress, “Hers look better.”

“Both of our dresses are the exact same, Yisoo.” Yebin retorted. 

So Ah chuckled then gestured to the youngest flower girl, “Look at Chun-Hee. She doesn’t think you look off, do you, Chun-Hee?”

Chun-Hee looked up then at her cousin. She stared at her for a bit and shook her head, “No. I think she looks very pretty.”

Her Korean accent was seeping thicker than the others, still learning English. So Ah looked at Yisoo, “See? And Chun-Hee doesn’t lie.”

“I don’t think she knows what lying is.” Helena muttered to Sherry and ChoHee, earning muffled snorts. So Ah gave her a side glance, furrowing her brows for a second, and then she looked back at the three little girls.

“How about this,” So Ah hummed, “When this is over, you can have my tiara.” 

Yisoo’s eyes widened with a gasp, looking at the tiara and then at her, “Really?”

“Mhm! I think it more so belongs on you.” So Ah continued with a gentle smile, “Princess Yisoo.”

Yisoo was speechless, squealing incoherently before latching her arms around her aunt’s neck, “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

So Ah laughed, hugging her back and pulling away, “After the reception, okay?”

“Okay!”

While Yisoo went to gush to her sister about having a tiara, So Ah reverted her attention to Chun-Hee.

Chun-Hee looked like her mother a lot. Her chubby cheeks were still there but her eyes were definitely Minji’s. The Han girl felt something twinge in the centre of her heart. 

“How are you feeling, Chun-Hee?” So Ah switched to her mother tongue. 

Chun-Hee blinked then a small smile was on her lips, recognizing the language, “I’m feeling okay.”

“That’s good, to feel okay.” So Ah nodded, unable to stop her eyes from stinging, “And your appa, is he here?”

“Yeah, he’s inside.” Chun-Hee pointed inside the room.

It felt awful talking to her niece, knowing So Ah was the one who witnessed her mother passing. It made her want to apologize profusely more than she did to her father – her brother-in-law. 

He didn’t even have the heart to be mad, completely in shock but he still hugged her – and he cried. 

It was a horrible couple of months and sometimes, it feels like she had never escaped the atmosphere of the funeral. Everywhere she went, she’d be reminded of Minij’s passing. Minx’s Body was back on its feet, aiming to be better because that was what Minji would’ve wished for it.

Sure, So Ah had taken revenge against her murderer – but at what cost?

“Oh, no,” The bride straightened up, a newfound dread over her wide eyes, “My bouquet.”

“Here,” ChoHee stepped forward with So Ah’s bouquet, “Knew you’d forget it.”

“Thank you.” So Ah giggled a little, taking it with both hands, happy to have something to cling to, and she released a heavy sigh.

Plucking out one of the little lilies, she went back down to her niece’s height with a small smile, “Do you know what’s this flower called; in English?”

Chun-Hee took it into her little hand, a subtle permanent pout on her face, “A… A lily.”

“A lily! Correct!” So Ah beamed, muttering the last bit, “Oh, she would’ve been so proud of you right now.”

Chun-Hee tilted her head to the side, a bit confused as she didn’t pick up most of the words in that sentence. She didn’t question it, letting her aunt take the lily from her hand.

This time, she slid the flower to settle behind her ear. 

“Her favourite flower was lilies, your eomma.” So Ah whispered with a smile and tears in her eyes, “It looks beautiful on you.”

Chun-Hee stayed quiet, not knowing what to say. She did look a bit sad when So Ah went back up with an exhale. She bit on her bottom lip tightly, nostrils flaring as she took in a shaky breath before facing her friends and father. Her voice came out heavy, refusing to blink – especially when Michael pulled her close for a side hug.

“Please tell me it’s waterproof mascara.”

Sherry nodded and opened to answer her but ChoHee piped in, having glanced out at the end of the aisle through the pearly white sheer curtains.

“It’s time.” She said, giving the bride a gentle smile, “He’s standing there – do you want to see him?”

So Ah shook her head profusely as Sherry went to the flower girls; mostly to stop the twins from bickering. 

“Only fair if it’s the first time we see each other like this.”

Helena clicked her tongue as a caterer was walking by with a tray of spare napkins in one hand and the other hand behind his back. 

“You say that as if you’ve never seen him in a tux.” She plucked one out and approached So Ah, “Eyes up.”

So Ah chuckled, doing as told as the DSO agent was carefully dabbing any traces of tears away, “You saw him in a suit too.”

“Yeah,” Helena ticked her head to the side, giving her a tilted smile, “But I can pull it off better.”

“Okay, Miss Harper.” Michael only said, raising his brow at her. 

“What? It’s true.” Helena stepped back, feigning offense.

So Ah nodded, looking over at her dad, “It is.”

The music shifted to a gentler one; it was time. 

So Ah hurriedly got into position, being the one standing last with Michael. The bridesmaids were in front of her and at the very beginning were the flower girls. 

Her heart was beating erratically behind her ribs, her nails digging into the paper and fabric holding her bouquet altogether. Her hand went around her father’s arm a little too tightly, and he noticed it. 

This was it – the peak of any wedding. Walking down the aisle.

Michael looked down at her, noticing the batch of flowers was trembling just like the hand holding it. Her eyes were set on Yebin, Yisoo, and Chu-Hee when they went first, starting to scatter the petals down the aisle.

“It’ll be okay, So Ah.” He reassured her, setting his hand over hers to ease her grip, “Try to relax.”

“What if I trip?” So Ah muttered anxiously, “These heels are awful. Can’t I take them off?”

“Ah, it’s best you don't,” He looked back ahead, “Your mother would never let me hear the end of it.”

“Appa…” So Ah trailed her eyes up to him, utterly uneasy, “Where am I supposed to look?”

“At him, of course.” He answered when the bridesmaids got into position behind one another and they went into the room, “Imagine it’s just you and him in the room.”

Taking in a deep breath, she held it for a few seconds before releasing it and pulling her veil down. The day she had been dreaming of since she was a little girl was finally here – and man, was it stressful. 

And for once, she welcomed the squirming butterflies in her stomach – she only wished they didn’t make her feel so sick.

Michael and she moved to stand right behind the open curtains – and they walked out. 

The lights had dimmed down, leaving the soft golden glow of the candles on the tables and the little ambient lights to illuminate the whole wide room. Every inch of the venue oozed with romance – a fairytale romance. She knew it was far from such, though.

The two long tables stretched out on the opposite sides of the aisle – those were reserved for close family members. There were several more tables behind them and close to the wall for the friends or distant families of the couple.

The candlesticks were golden, matching well with little cups with scented candles. Not to mention, the pink roses on each table along with plates and utensils. There were assorted flowers almost in every corner – that was her idea. 

The music though – that was all him; and man, did that surprise her.

It was an outdoor wedding brought indoors with immersive screens on the walls showcasing shifting gradient colours and floating flower petals. 

Right in the centre was, of course, the white and long aisle. The flower girls had tossed their petals chaotically but it fitted the theme. At the end of the aisle was the beautifully designed cake, the dance floor, more vines and flowers and obviously – the groom himself.

The aisle lit up once So Ah stood at the start of it, revealing herself to every single standing guest. She instantly froze when faint gasps reached her ears. She could sense all three hundred pairs of eyes on her – it made her want to recoil back into her room and never come out.

Michael subtly tugged her forward as her eyes kept darting anywhere and everywhere. Her footsteps were hesitant and the grip on his arm tightened once again, almost crinkling his suit. He leaned down a little to whisper.

“Look at him, lotus.” 

She did and immediately the world around her disappeared. Leon couldn’t stop grinning at the sight of her, unable to blink. He didn’t want to. 

The off-shoulder sweetheart gown she wore was of palepale rose gold with a dazzling design all over. It hugged her torso as if it belonged to her and her only, the tail of it longlong behind her. Her pearly necklace enunciated her collarbones and made her look radiant. 

Her hair was up in an elegant bun of braids with dangling strands on and about. The rose gold tiara she wore matched her engagement ring, embedded with diamonds all over with the shape of two leaves and a petal in the middle crowning it.

And through the veil, Leon knew she was just as breathtaking. 

To her, she couldn’t look anywhere anymore. Sure, she had seen him in suits but something about this tux was sending her brain reeling with emotions. It was your usual black and white suit, if not leaning towards dark blue. His hair was done too with one side of his bangs swooped back, minus the smaller stubborn fringes.

Close to him were Chris as his best man, Jaehyun, and Patrick as his groomsman. 

So Ah really didn’t want to cry, but her cinnamons only teared up when Leon’s blueblue eyes glistened under the soft lights.

Thank god for waterproof mascara.

[possessionisamyth]

It's Claire Hours Baby!

Genuinely wondering what condition she was in after Raccoon City and Code Veronica considering she experienced being an absolute badass for about four months, but we cannot forget she was a (supposedly) university student at the time.

She missed way too much class time and class work to make up for that semester. What few friends she made were either concerned with her absence or angry at being ghosted/ignored. Yes she has her brother back, but how did she adjust with having to start over the next semester? She has a lot of baggage that people will either:

1) Not believe her experiences.

OR

2) Have no idea how to relate to her/offer comfort.

There will be a strong sense of isolation from the trauma she's dealing with on top of the isolation which normally comes with being completely and freshly independent as a young adult. She can't solve this problem with fighting. She can't find a support group when Raccoon City survivors can only be counted on one hand and are not going to be easy to get in contact with. To her knowledge Leon is M.I.A. Sherry is a child, and Claire is too self aware to confide her woes to a literal child when she knows she needs to play the role of listener and support to said freshly orphaned 10 year old. Jill is busy working with Chris on hunting down Umbrella. She wouldn't even know Carlos. So Claire just has to swallow this and hope she doesn't choke.

At 19 she's a super hero. At 20 is when I believe she starts getting her bad habits of putting everyone else's issues before her own. Who can she really talk to about this? Who has more than an hour to spare for her frustration and tears? What gorey nightmare where things went differently in a bad way could she share with a friend who wouldn't ask her to stop her descriptions out of discomfort or say "that's a great movie idea" like it wasn't a part of her life she can never let go? No. It's probably best not to bother. Other people's problems like relationship issues due to miscommunication, or a surface level disgustingly liberal understanding of how the government isn't their friend, or even just why an artist is a sellout? Those were easy topics. Normal topics. Because she has to be normal to make connections with people and get her foot in the door. And suddenly Raccoon City gets further away in her day to day until it doesn't.

And suddenly Rockfort gets further away in her day to day until it doesn't. Until she figures Chris is too busy to look for where Steve was taken because he's so busy trying to find Wesker at all. Until she blames herself at every dead end in her search when she's normally so good at this. She's supposed to be good at this. She used to be good at this. What was wrong with her? Maybe he's dead. Maybe he really died in Antarctica, and that's why she can't find him. Maybe Wesker took whatever samples he wanted and destroyed the body. Would it be so farfetched? She hates herself for thinking it. She doesn't know what else to think. She can focus on the problem her roommate is having with her communications homework. That's easy. That's normal. That won't lead to failure. That's her life. This is her life. Helping people, and then the longer it goes on the more it bleeds into saving people. Claire's good at that. She wants to believe she's good at that. Until she fails. Until people get hurt because she didn't account for every possible outcome.

Is it her fault she can't get a boyfriend because sometimes she gets this distant, haunted look in her eyes that can be unnerving to others? Is it her fault she can't make so many plans with friends because she's working overtime to make up for a lost semester? Is it her fault a loud banging in the cafeteria makes her jump or grip her tray a little too tightly causing the plastic to crack? How else could she manage herself other than taping those fears and bad habits down further to bury them under the issues of the people she wants to fit in with. Like helping a friend who's complaining about a professor being too difficult. Or another friend calling her at 4AM to be picked up from a frat party. Or another friend asking to borrow money for laundry because they ran short when it came time to use the dryer. Or another friend, or another friend, or another friend. Because those are normal people problems as she adjusts herself back into what's supposed to be the normal life she set out for post high school. Right?

[ermwhattehsigma]

Wow, Day 2 already! For this day, I chose to go with all three prompts: Thermometer, Delirium, and "They don't care about you." This one's a bit longer than Day 1 and definitely more feely. I don't think Leon's and Hop's mother is bad per say, both as a parent and as a person, but... C'mon. We've all seen their living room in game. There is a clear favorite child!

——————————————————————————————————

Above him, below him, beside him, all around; The room is spinning. Colors and shapes swim on the wall, like water types floating by the glass in an aquarium, mindless and untroubled. Hop is very troubled, though. He licks his lips and tilts his head to the side, glancing at the door. It’s solid, thick mahogany, and it’s closed. He squints his eyes. He can’t tell for certain, but it feels like every time he looks away and looks back to the door, it’s gotten a bit farther away. Slowly, inch by inch, it’s escaping him.

He groans and turns his entire body, facing the wall. He’s laying in bed, still in his pajamas and with the blanket covering him, but he’s cold. His body trembles as he wraps his arms around himself. He squeezes his eyes shut, trying to block out the shapes swimming on the wall, but it doesn’t work. Flashes of light and small spots dance across the inside of his eyelids, making him feel nauseous. When he opens his eyes, the room is darker than it should be, then brighter, and then back to normal.

The doorknob turns with a click. He realizes, belated, that this means the door has opened, and that furthermore, someone has entered his room. He turns onto his back once more and watches as that “someone”, his mum, approaches. She’s holding something in her hands.

“Open your mouth.”

He does so without resistance. Something long, thin, and cold is pressed underneath his tongue. Oh, a thermometer. He closes his mouth. That’s right, he remembers now. She was in here earlier, feeling his forehead, and said she would return to take his temperature. And if she’s here taking his temperature with a thermometer, that can only mean one thing: He’s sick. Really sick.

“Opunagn.”

What? His eyes wander to his mum, standing over him. Surely those weren’t words she just said. He makes a small noise, confused.

“Open again.”

Oh, those are words. He opens his mouth and the thermometer is taken. It helped to make his mouth feel cooler, so he’s a bit mournful that it had to be removed, as well as baffled. Why is his mouth so hot when the rest of him is freezing?

He hears someone click their tongue. It wasn’t him who did it, which means there’s only one other person who could’ve.

“39.1… That’s much higher than it was yesterday.”

Yesterday? Yes, yesterday. He had been sick then too, although his fever wasn’t nearly as bad at the time. It had started out with a sore throat and feeling somewhat more lethargic than normal, only for him to be bedridden by the end of the day. But how can someone be bedridden at nighttime? Isn’t that when you’re supposed to go to bed anyways?

It’s not nighttime, though. It’s afternoon of the next day, and he feels awful. His eyes slip shut. The last time he was this sick, he was much younger than he is right now. Still just a baby, as he might address someone of that age today, or as Lee might say. Speaking of his brother, he remembers distinctly that he was there the last time Hop was sick. Even though he was 13 at the time, and he was 5, he had been the one to take care of him. It was great. Well, being sick wasn’t, but being able to spend so much time with Lee was. He’s 16 now, so he’s a lot busier, what with him being the Champion of Galar. He doesn’t have time to be home and take care of Hop when he’s sick.

He wishes he did, though. He misses the way he’d brush his bangs out of the way when they got messed up from his tossing and turning. He misses how he would read books at his bedside so that he didn’t get bored, or if he was worried about contamination and couldn’t be in the room, he’d leave with him a game to play. He misses his brother, but even more than that, he misses the way he would care for him like he’s the most important thing in the world. It might be selfish to think such a thing, but he isn’t sure he can even define that word right now, let alone apply it to himself. His head feels like it’s stuffed full of Wooloo wool.

“You got that?”

His eyes open. It takes him a moment to adjust to the light to realize his mum is still there, and that she’s been talking his whole time. He flounders for a bit before remembering how to speak.

“H-Huh?”

“I said, you should stay in your room for the time being. Otherwise, Grams and Gramps might catch whatever you have.”

He stares up at her blankly for a moment, then glances at the door. It’s farther than it was last time, he’s sure of it. How is he supposed to leave when the door keeps running away? Not only that, but Lee was always quick to remind him that sick kids need plenty of bedtime whenever they’re not feeling well, even when they get restless. He doesn’t want to go against his words.

Hop nods. The movement is sluggish, his head feeling heavy.

“Good. I left some water for you on your nightstand, alright?” She tells him, and much to his surprise, she’s right. There’s a full glass of water on the table next to him. When did that happen? Did she bring a glass with her when she entered the room? He doesn’t remember that.

“Yell for me if you need anything else,” Her voice is quieter now, he thinks, but he can’t really tell since everything she says sounds muffled. “I love you.”

Now she’s just being silly. Leaving the room is one thing, but he’s fairly certain he could not yell right now even if he wanted to. He can hardly bring his voice above a mumble, really, let alone form coherent sentences. As she turns to leave, though, he realizes it’s now or never. He pushes himself up slightly, arms already shaking from the strain as he tries to sit up.

“Wait,” He manages to say at a decent volume, causing her to pause and look at him. He has to swallow, feeling his throat protest at the action as he asks, “Can you read me a story?”

Her expression is unreadable, not because of the way she looks, but because his eyes are playing tricks on him. He sees that now. Or, rather, he can’t see anything that’s too far from his bed. His mum is blurry and out of focus.

“A story? I thought you didn’t want me to read you those anymore.”

Such a notion strikes him as preposterous at first, but after a moment, he realizes that she’s right. He remembers having said such a thing to her recently about being too old for bedtime stories. Why he said that, he has no idea, especially considering nobody has read him one in a while. The last person to do so was Lee.

… The last person to take care of him while he was sick was also Lee. When was the last time his brother visited home? Trying to remember dates and numbers has become a monumental task. All of them are jumbled up in his head, just like his words.

He flops back into bed, his weak arms giving out. The impact makes spots appear in his vision, though only briefly. Apparently his mum takes this as an answer to her comment, which is great because he isn’t sure he’d be able to give her a proper response.

“Just get some rest. You’ll feel better with some sleep.”

He just woke up, though, Hop wants to complain. He’s only been awake for… a while! How long exactly, he has no idea, but he’s sure it’s been at least a few minutes. No, perhaps an hour? It’s hard to tell.

The door shuts. His mum has left. He wishes he had asked where she was going, or perhaps insisted she stay, but he didn’t. Speaking takes too much energy, and he gets the feeling his mum didn’t want to stick around any longer than she needed to. She must not want to get infected, he figures, or perhaps she’s worried about spreading any germs to Grams and Gramps. That’s why he’s alone right now, staring up at the ceiling, watching it shift and bend.

They don’t care about you.

The thought is sudden and frightening. His fingers clutch at the sheets, hands tightening into ironclad fists. He doesn’t like thinking about scary things like that, especially not now. Not while he’s exhausted and ill.

So, he won’t think about it. He loosens his grip on the sheets before pulling them over his head. He turns onto his side, bunching the fabric around him until he’s practically cocooned himself in the soft material. His head hits the pillow and his eyes shut.

There, he waits for sleep to overtake him, breathing gently as the shivering returns.

[fatebinds]

c1, n2, z1 (alan)

d1, j3, v2 (max)

k1, l2, w4 (kal)

e2, l3, u3 (shari)

o3, q4, t1 (leon)

doc's meme day special extravaganza!

for max:

D1: what car do/would they drive? 

his dream car is a sick ass ferrari or something, but right now he just occasionally pulls out some banged up piece of shit car he wrangled together.

J3: if they were a dragon, what would they hoarde?

skulls. doesn't really matter what kind.

V2: how do they dress normally, and how does it differ when they’re going somewhere nice? 

normally, he kind of dresses in what he calls stylish rags. it's a lot of hodgepodge from thrift stores and almost all of his clothes are worn down as hell. he wears his 'newer' clothes if he's going someplace 'nice' but he's definitely not a suit and tie kind of guy.

for shari:

E2: do they believe in [horoscopes]?

i don't think she like believe believes in it, but she reads her horoscope and takes it into account and things like that.

L3: how do they show affection, or if they don't, why not? 

she's definitely the hovering kind of person. she's just around. she's too scared to show anything more than that 100% of the time. if someone else isn't initiating, she has a hard time even looking at others.

U3: do they prefer hot or cold weather?

cold weather, she loves to bundle up.

for alan:

C1: do they pick up after themselves? 

he does, yes! instilled with a 'leave no trace' and 'don't be a pig' attitudes from a young age.

N2: what are their favorite scents? 

i think he's a fan of subtler scents, but floral is definitely his favorite.

Z1: what does their bedroom look like?

the back of his truck /:

for leon:

O3: can they sing? 

no he cannot.

Q4: are they competitive?

he used to be as a young child, but he definitely isn't anymore. the moment a conflict is starting, he's backing down.

T1: what's their favorite and/or least favorite food? 

least favorite: corn. he just doesn't like how it gets stuck in his teeth.

for kal:

K1: are they technologically savvy?

she's savvy enough to get around a computer or a phone or tablet, but she's not especially informed about how those things work.

L2: what is their love language?

hers in particular is words of affirmation. if she likes you, she'll tell you!

W4: if they were in a medieval setting rp, what would their job be?

she would probably be a barkeep or something, but she would want to be a pirate.

[demidevildiva]

welcome to marina, JAZIEL ABREU ( cis male, him/he ) ! they are a THIRTY THREE year old who has lived on the island for ON/OFF HIS WHOLE LIFE. word on the street is they’re currently living in HYLAND PARK and works as a TATTOO ARTIST. everyone also says they look a lot like DANIEL EZRA. what do you think?

Name: Jaziel Abreu Gender: Male, him/he Age: 33 years old Sexuality: Heterosexual Occupation: Tattoo Artist Neighborhood: Hyland Park D.O.B: December 15 Height: 5'8" Body: short, built Hair: Black Eyes: Black Definable Marks: Many tattoos I'll get to this at some point

Character Summary

Will be back for this. Just wanted to get his into and tags out

Intro

Jaziel had a normal childhood. Nothing out of the ordinary ever really happened in his home. His parents loved one another like nothing else. It was as if they had eyes for no one but each-other, which Jaziel always admired despite his disgruntle behavior when in their presence. He wasn’t privileged in any way possible either, but his parents made enough money to treat him to just about anything and everything he desired which he was more than grateful for.

His mother’s passing was something that took them by surprise. For the longest time she had lived with breast cancer unbeknown to him. His parents found it safer to keep it from him because they didn’t think anything would happen. They lived in a blissful paradise where they could get through any illness whether it threatened their lives or not. So when she passed away in her sleep Jaziel was left confused and hurt. He was only fifteen when it happened and he swore he’d never love someone like that after seeing the pain his father lived with for years on end.

Enter his high school years and there wasn’t a girl in the school that Jaziel didn’t hit on, take out on dates, or banged. None he gave more than a second glance after his initial interaction, wanting nothing serious from any of them. The more detached the connection the better. His father always tried to get him to ‘fix his ways’ but there was nothing that he could say to deter him from his lifestyle. He was perfectly fine being regarded as an insensitive fuckboy.

It took a good six years for his father to find love again, and Jaziel didn’t really know what to think. His father had never shown interest in women after his mother’s passing, but he understood that his father had too much love to give and needs to be full-filled so he was excited for him. His new wife was easy to get along with, and reminded him in many ways to the way his mother was which only added on to the bond he built with her from there. She did come with a child of her own as well, but Jaziel didn’t really care much for them. Gabriel Leone seemed more like a push over to him at the time, so Jaziel did his best to keep his distance. Not that it was too painfully hard as they were five years apart.

It wasn't until college where Jaziel felt what he could only describe as love. For someone who had never settled for anyone else before, Jaziel began to see a life and a future with her. Everything that was her he fell in love with and adored and the two traveled throughout the world in absolute bliss. It wasn't long before he knelt on one knee and asked her to be his wife. To marry him, and make him the happiest men on this earth and she accepted. Everything in his eyes was going great, and the two were set to marry in Greece. It wasn't until the big day that things went wrong and she never showed- leaving him standing alone at the altar.

It had destroyed him, but he was too prideful to admit it to anyone who asked. He was left with no reason or explanation, and for the longest time he forced himself to hate her. Forced himself to rip her clean from his mind and continued to travel the world on his own filling his heart with things that could do him no harm. Enlarging his brand and learning everything he could about his art until his services were sought after across countries.

Sion: Jaziel had made some amazing friends while away and one of them was another artist by the name of Abe. Abe was a single father who's baby mother passed during child birth. It completely shattered him and drove him to drugs and Jaziel did his best to be there for him and his daughter. A year back he passed, but before he did Abe was able to pass guardianship over to Jaziel who willingly accepted- promising to raise his daughter and give her a life that she deserved. A life that Abe wanted for her, but didn't have the means or ability to provide.

Jaziel was out of Marina for a good couple of years, coming back during holidays or any vacation time that he allowed himself to have, but now he was back for good. He stopped traveling to focus on Sion, and to give her a stabled place to call home. Something that she never had before, but would benefit from in the future he hoped.

Headcanons

Family: Gabriel Leone (stepbrother)

Wanted Connections

People he considers friends

People he cannot stand

Exes (probably like one or two)

Flings (definitely had many of those)

Clients

Flirtationships

Anything really. I'll plop back in here to add more later.

[bitsandbobsofwriting]

Merlin Breaks, Part 3(final part)

Arthur decides that this has gone on for far too long, and does something about it; filling the cracks with something made of gold.

Part 1   Part 2

TW: Lots of crying and angst, but with a hella fluffy ending :D

A sentence repeated, in various forms, is often a sentence to be paid attention to:

“He’s honestly not sure which is more horrible”

“She isn’t sure what she prefers”

“He’s not sure what’s worse”

—and many others. All meaning the same thing, all asking essentially the same question, formed in their minds in a more palatable manner than their actual meaning:

“Why didn’t they notice sooner?”

Arthur ponders all of these things as his sits at his desk, chin resting on his interlocked fingers, eyes on the door as he awaits Merlin’s inevitable arrival. He’d wanted to leave it longer, wanted to have made more progress before he approached his servant; in an ideal world, he’d have had it all completed, would have spoken to the Druids, would have somehow tracked down the bloody Dragon and spoken to even him. But not all things are possible, and with Leon’s uncharacteristic panic about Merlin’s state of mind, and Merlin’s mask continuing to crumble, The King realises he doesn’t really have a choice if he wants the single most important person in his life to... well, stay in his life.

The door creeps open, not with a swing and a bang like it would have done several months ago, but with a gentle swoosh that barely disturbs the dust. At least, Arthur thinks, Merlin hasn’t carried on that awful habit of knocking.

The servant traipses in, having dropped Arthur’s almost untouched dinner tray back in the kitchens, immediately heading over to the hearth. Just like a few months ago would have had Merlin slamming the door open and marching in with an insult already on his lips, a few months ago also would have had him complaining about Arthur being unable to maintain his own fire through the freezing Winter nights, but as it is, he stays silent, sagging in front of the spluttering flames to poke some life into them. Arthur glances down at the papers he knew he wouldn’t need to bother hiding, sighing and shuffling them into a drawer anyway, before standing. He tucks his chair under, neatens his desk to lighten Merlin’s workload a little, and stretches his arms high above his head with a groan before making his way towards the servant, settling in the soft armchair just behind him, facing the hearth.

Merlin tenses at the presence behind him, but relaxes after a moment or two, much to Arthur’s relief, and mutters to The King:

“Something on your mind?”

His voice is quiet, and Arthur marvels at the way Merlin can tell that he’s bothered by something without having to look at him. He doesn’t know what it was that gave it away; a change in his gait, a deep breath, a feeling in the silence. Maybe Merlin can sense the way Arthur’s heart is racing racing racing. The King finds he doesn’t really care, just reminds himself to appreciate Merlin’s intuitiveness more, and stays silent until the servant turns to stare at him with a questioning frown:

“Hmm. I just... need your opinion on something, I think.”

Arthur knows exactly what he wants, but he also knows he can’t push, or seem too certain, or imply anything out of the ordinary, and so keeps it vague and... marginally misleading. Merlin raises an eyebrow, turning back and adding his final touches to the fire to make sure it lasts as long as possible before standing, taking a step back, and sitting down heavily in his... in the other seat, without even having to look. Arthur holds in his pleased smirk at that; the other seat be damned, that is Merlin’s seat, so much so that he could find it blind.

The servant leans his head on his hand and looks up to Arthur, wordlessly inviting him to continue with a strained smile that The King can see straight through. Arthur sighs, but quickly looks away, staring into the hearth as he slowly speaks:

“I... value your opinion, Merlin, above all others. In recent years I’ve begun questioning... a lot, mostly things that my father taught me. I’d like to think I’m a better King than he was, certainly a better man, at least,-”

Merlin interrupts with a soft:

“You are, Arthur.”

Months ago—there’s that phrase again, months ago—Merlin would have almost yelled that, months ago he would have believed it so ardently that Arthur even implying otherwise would’ve driven him into a frenzy. But now, the cracking of his voice, the way he speaks so quietly, as though he doesn’t even want to hear his own words, show Arthur just how much he doesn’t believe it; Arthur’s heart cracks just that little bit more, but he doesn’t show it.

“Perhaps, perhaps not. I’ve made a lot of mistakes, some genuine, some... cruel. I think...-”

[He knows]

“-I think I’ve already made up my mind on what to do, but I want your pure, unfiltered opinion. No matter what it is, Merlin, I promise there’ll be no punishment, no backlash, you may say whatever you please and I will consider it with my every effort.-”

Merlin’s brows are furrowed, and Arthur waits for him to nod out the corner of his eye before asking his question; The King finally looks up at his servant, gulping and licking his lips before he speaks, trying to keep the earnest hope from his voice:

“What do you genuinely, honestly, think of magic?”

The breath that Merlin takes is deep enough for Arthur to notice it and gulp, but shallow enough that he can get away with pretending not to have noticed. The servant stares for a moment or two before looking away, to the fire, and now that Arthur is finally, finally paying attention, he can see the tension in Merlin’s shoulders at the mention of the dreaded sorcery. Arthur doesn’t look away, keeping his curious, slightly hopeful expression centred on the side of Merlin’s face as the servant twitches nervously. He waits, giving him time, allowing Merlin to answer at his own pace, which thankfully doesn’t take more than half a minute:

“I... don’t think it’s my place to say, Sire.”

Arthur sighs, but tries to keep the annoyance out of his voice as he responds. He knows why Merlin doesn’t trust him, but he can’t tell him that, he can’t, no matter how desperately he wants to, grab him by the shoulders and shake him and scream “I know! I know and it’s ok! I know and I still love you! Trust you! Need you!”. That middle bit comes out of left field even for Arthur, despite the fact that it’s his own brain supplying the imagined scene, but he tucks it away in a corner of his mind to deal with... later:

“You give your opinion every hour of the day, wanted or not, and now I’m actually asking, you clam up? There’s no... ulterior motive here, Merlin, I need you to be honest with me, please.”

Merlin looks up at him curiously, obviously not trying that hard to keep the exhaustion and fear and curiosity off his face, quirking his eyebrow in surprise at Arthur’s strange use of the P word:

“Why? Of all the people in your life whose opinion you value, why do you want mine?”

Arthur sighs and looks away, biting his lip as he sags; he knows that, had he treated Merlin with the respect he was owed, treated Merlin the way Arthur wanted to treat him, as opposed to the way he thought would create the fewest waves, Merlin would never question why Arthur wants his opinion. It only takes him a few seconds to reply, though he doesn’t look back when he does:

“I... like I said, I value your opinion above all others, and I’m sorry to have lead you to a place where you think otherwise.-”

He looks up, staring Merlin in the eyes and resolving himself to not look away this time:

“-Please, Merlin, I... I need this. What do you think of magic? What do you think of what my father did?”

Merlin’s jaw tightens, but Arthur just waits, giving him what he hopes is a softly accepting, open expression, obscured enough to seem genuine, but still plain to see for someone staring right in his face. The servant takes a deep breath but, like The King, doesn’t look away, despite the tears welling in his eyes:

“I think... I think your father was... wrong, in what he did. In fact... I think he was wrong in pretty much everything.-”

Arthur nods, in agreement or encouragement Merlin isn’t quite sure, but he powers through anyway. What has he got left to lose? Really? Arthur’s friendship perhaps, though even now, even after everything they’d been through and everything Merlin had said to Kilgharrah, he’s wondering if... if that’s something he really wants to hold on to any more:

“-Magic is just another natural part of the world, just a tool, like a sword or a quill. Uther slaughtered hundreds, thousands even, of innocent people, because he held a grudge against something he didn’t understand, and it’s been... difficult. Difficult beyond words, actually, to have to sit back and watch you follow the same path. Magic should be free, should be adored even, but it’s not. Here it’s hanged and burned, in Essetir it’s tortured and enslaved. Even the Druids, founded on peace and healing, are hunted like animals. There’s really...-”

He looks away, in to the fire again; his voice as he continues is soft but wavering:

“-There’s really no winning, unless you’re prepared to move halfway across the land to somewhere like Nemeth, where magic is just about tolerated, or travel across the seas, in which case, who knows what you’ll find.”

Arthur nods, and despite himself, allows himself to smile a little. He knows that Merlin is only telling him this because he has no regard left for his own safety, his own worth, his own life, but all that is about to change. He stands from his seat and tries to make the journey to his desk in a calm, unrushed manner, but accepts happily that he probably isn’t that successful. Merlin stands after him, tense and wide eyed and frozen by the fireplace; his fearful expression morphs into one of confusion when Arthur quickly pulls a pile of papers from his desk drawer and returns, a toothy grin on his face. The King moves to stand in front of the servant, chuckling slightly as he holds the papers out to him:

“You have no idea how much of a relief it is to hear that. Horrifying, of course, that it took me this long, that I was blind for so many years, but I’m glad to know that you agree with me.”

Merlin takes a step back in time with his gasp. His eyes go wide again and he glances between the papers, still in Arthur’s outstretched hand, and The King’s eyes:

“Agree with... but... what?!”

Arthur’s smile shrinks in size though grows in softness, in adoration:

“Merlin, I’m going to repeal the ban on magic. Not just that, I... I want to integrate it into the Kingdom fully, have council members dedicated to it, schools in magic, close relations with the Druids, sections of the Guard that specialise in Sorcery. And I... I would like your help to do so.”

Merlin’s hands begin to shake at his side, and the longer he goes without speaking, the more concerned Arthur gets. The servant’s tears spill over as he reaches slowly, ever so slowly, for the papers, taking them without looking away from The King until the last minute, glancing down as Arthur stares on, worried, concerned, but also hopeful.

Not a word is spoken as Merlin’s eyes scan the first few pages; Arthur wonders, with the speed at which he flips the sheets over, how he’s actually able to take any of it in, especially with the tears blurring his sight, but he doesn’t question it. It’s barely a minute before Merlin takes a deep breath, clenching his eyes shut and biting the inside of his cheeks before he looks up again, sniffing, still crying, still shivering:

“You... is this real?”

His voice is whispered and cracking and Arthur gulps at the question, his own eyes filling with tears at Merlin’s doubt and fear; he reaches out to take the papers so he can softly drop them onto the chair behind him. The King doesn’t look away from the younger man, gulping before he responds, quietly, slowly, as if he were speaking to an injured and desperate animal:

“Yes, Merlin, this is real. I want to undo what my father did, and bring peace to all my people, magic or no.-”

Merlin takes another deep breath, looking away as he nods and blinks hard, evidently trying to stop himself from crying even more. His exhaustion shows clearly in the bags under his eyes, the shake in his arms, the boniness of his hands, and Arthur watches for only half a minute before he speaks again, hyper aware of Merlin’s fragility, both physical and mental:

“-Merlin?”

At the soft utterance of his name, the servant falls apart once more, burying his face in his hands and sobbing; he’d have fallen to the floor, but Arthur sees the weakness of his knees and quickly steps forward, wrapping him in strong arms and holding him up. He shushes Merlin quietly, manoeuvring so he’s holding the smaller man on his feet with one hand, and using the other to stroke through his knotted hair. He uses soft fingers to untangle the dark strands, scratching at his scalp and petting him comfortingly.

Eventually, Merlin’s shaking becomes too much for even Arthur, the hardened and strong knight he is, to hold him up, and he lowers them both to the floor carefully, sitting back against the chair and shuffling Merlin so he was between his legs and against his chest. The King rocks them gently from side to side, muttering quiet, barely audible reassurances:

“It’s ok, Merlin. I promise that everything is going to be ok. You... everyone is going to be safe, looked after. I won’t let you down, not this time.”

Merlin’s cries get louder just for a moment at his words, but the soft touches and the rocking and Arthur’s deep, reassuring breathes beneath his own chest help calm him down. He’s still crying, though is generally much more controlled when he speaks up, stuttering and quiet and terribly, terribly frightened:

“I... I have magic. I always have.”

He keeps his face pressed to Arthur’s chest, his body somehow stiff and trembling at the same time as he awaits The King’s harrowing judgement. Arthur just sighs softly, pressing a brief, unplanned kiss to the top of Merlin’s head before responding, forcing his voice to stay steady and tender:

“I know, Merlin. I haven’t known for long but... I know. And it’s ok, and I’m so sorry.”

His voice cracks, only once though, and Arthur counts that as a win considering how distraught and wrung out he truly feels. Merlin flinches, Arthur can feel it; he loosens his hold slightly, not wanting to let go entirely but also not wanting Merlin to feel trapped. The servant relaxes quickly and, though he sniffles quietly, manages to stop crying. He shuffles slightly, not moving away from Arthur’s lap as he shifts his head up to be rested on The King’s shoulder instead of his chest. He peeks upwards through his tear-heavy eyelashes, and at Arthur’s openly distressed expression he frowns and clears his throat, his gaze darting away again.

Arthur continues to softly stroke a hand up and down his arm, not happy but... just about sufficiently patient to wait for Merlin to feel comfortable enough to respond in his own time. Thankfully the morose silence spurs the servant on, and it only takes him a few moments to gulp, clear his throat, and gulp again before responding:

“I... I figured. At least I thought you might have suspected. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I... I wish I’d had a chance to tell you.”

His voice is rough and painful sounding, almost as bad as it had been when Merlin had spoken to Kilgharrah all those weeks ago. Arthur clenches his jaw, but tempers his voice and tries not to get too tense, not wanting to scare Merlin:

“Where you ever going to tell me?”

The King’s voice is barely a whisper, but he holds on tightly as Merlin pushes closer to his chest, grasping at his tunic like he was afraid Arthur would disappear:

“I... don’t know. One day, maybe. I don’t... don’t know. Arthur, I’m so-”

Arthur cuts him off with a soft, shaky smile and shakes his head:

“Don’t apologise, Merlin. None of this is your fault. I can’t imagine how scared and alone you’ve been; I’m the one who be sorry, and I am, I am so very sorry, Merlin.”

Merlin frowns and opens his mouth to respond, but quickly closes it again and looks down, towards his lap. He attempts to speak a few more times—not that Arthur can tell with the servant’s face turned away—before he finally manages to get his words out, not before he lets loose a miserable sounding little laugh:

“I have a feeling we could waste away trying to convince each other not to be sorry, so let’s just... leave that as it is.-”

He looks up, still allowing his weary head to rest against Arthur’s shoulder, taking a deep, shaky breath as a few more tears slide down his cheeks and his lip wobbles slightly:

“-The... the others know too, right?”

Arthur bites the inside of his cheek, tightening his hold on the servant only momentarily before he remembers himself. On one hand, he feels any conversation involving the others should have them present, but on the other, Merlin deserves the truth and nothing less. He takes another preparatory breath, and nods:

“Yes, most of them, anyway.”

Merlin clamps his eyes shut and turns down into Arthur’s chest, though only for the count of two breaths before he’s looking up again, his face clearer, blanker:

“Leon’s always been a little... protective, I guess. I think we probably know each other a lot better than anyone realises; we spend a weird amount of time together, for a servant and the First Knight. But recently it’s gotten more... I don’t know. Obvious? Severe? He just stares at me with this sad look on his face, and he doesn’t touch me as much, day to day, like he thinks I’ll flinch away. Though everyone’s been like that to be fair. It’s just...-”

He cuts himself off and sighs, staring into the fire despondently:

“-some of the things he was saying last night,-”

He glances up at Arthur briefly with big eyes and a small voice:

“-which I’m assuming you know about?-”

Arthur nods sheepishly, and with an expression that is somewhere between heartbroken and grateful, Merlin looks away again:

“-I don’t know. It’s like he was stopping himself from saying something. Like he knew the perfect way to comfort me but didn’t want to say it for some reason. And Gwen?-”

He lets out the truest laugh Arthur has heard from him in months, though it’s still meagre and shaky:

“-She’s obvious. Incapable of lying, that one, which is sweet I suppose. She’s been like Leon but ten times worse, I can see her almost in tears every time she looks at me.-”

Merlin laughs again, though this time it’s self deprecating and teary. He removes his hands from Arthur’s tunic and folds them tightly in his lap, picking at the scabs on his knuckles, palms, wrists, fingertips; Arthur’s no idea where they came from, and he’s not sure he wants to know either. The servant’s next words come out quietly, almost as if Arthur weren’t supposed to hear them:

“-I thought I’d upset her somehow. She could barely look at me, I thought I’d... Hmm. I’d still like to go away with her, in Spring maybe.”

Arthur gulps, reaching down and hesitating for only a moment before he takes one of Merlin’s hands gently in his own, muttering quietly:

“Don’t pick, Merlin, you’ll hurt yourself.-”

Merlin looks up with an almost amused smile, but the tears in his eyes stand against it, as does the shaking in his hands; it would worry Arthur, if it weren’t for the fact that he knows almost without a doubt that Merlin hasn’t been sleeping—or probably eating either—very well. Not that that isn’t something to worry about in itself, but at least he knows what it is, at least it isn’t some mysterious illness. At least now I can stop driving myself up the wall with worry, he mutters in his own mind, just with guilt:

“-What about the others?”

Merlin sighs, like he’s tired of being asked questions, but continues nonetheless:

“Gwaine’s drinking more and can’t look at me, Elyan hugs me every time he sees me, despite not being that tactile of a person, and seems to know what’s wrong with Gwen, and Percival is with one of those two every second of the day, and has established what seems to be a six foot boundary around me that he won’t cross unless forced to, like if he touches me, I’ll break.”

Arthur gulps at that, he hadn’t realised how see-through they’d all been. Or perhaps they just thought that Merlin was so out of it he wouldn’t have noticed; foolish really, Arthur may not admit it often, but he knows that Merlin is one of the smartest, most observant people in the Kingdom. Even when he’s distraught and distracted and caught up in his own mind. The King nods, beginning his absent-minded stroking of Merlin’s arm again; some part of him, coming from the very back of his mind, preens at the fact that Merlin seems to relax into his hold:

“I’m... well. However it all happened, I’m sorry. I’m sorry that it took me so long, and I promise I’m going to fix everything. I can’t say that the council will be easy to persuade, but one nod from me and the others will deal with it; Gwen is scary when she’s feeling protective, and when Leon actually allows himself to be angry... it’s like nothing you’ve ever seen. We’ll get through this, Merlin, for you.”

Arthur realises that he’s preened too soon as Merlin stiffens. The servant wriggles out of his hold, shuffling back on his knees as his lips wobble and his eyes overflow once more:

“No, you... you can’t do that. Not for me. You... Arthur you have to mean it, you can’t... I can’t be... this isn’t how it’s meant to go.”

Arthur holds his hands out in surrender but frowns, confused, shaking his head slightly as he responds, trying to keep the hurrying panic out of his voice, in order to not freak Merlin out any more than he already is:

“Merlin... what? You don’t want me to legalise magic?”

Merlin begins crying in earnest again, scrubbing harshly at his face with his sleeves before bringing his hands to his lap, scratching at the skin:

“No, I... of course I want you to... it’s not that... you don’t understand. None of you understand. I... you... it’s not meant to go like this.”

Arthur takes a deep breath, reaching slowly for Merlin's shivering shoulder:

“Ok, I don’t understand. So explain it to me, Merlin. You can do that now, you can tell the truth and it will be a good thing, so just... take a breath, and explain it to me.”

Merlin looks at him like he’s insane, but doesn’t flinch away when Arthur’s hand finally makes contact with his shoulder, just lets out a deep breath, shuffles on his spot slightly, and gulps, before speaking:

“I... you’re only legalising magic because of me. You’re not allowed to... you can’t do that. It has to be... genuine. You have to mean it, you have to... I don’t know, investigate, see magic for yourself and... and come to the conclusion that it’s good. Without my influence or... or... or manipulation. You can’t change the law because of me, you... you have to mean it, Arthur. That’s the destiny, the prophecies.”

Arthur’s brows grow slowly more furrowed the more Merlin speaks, and he decides rather pointedly that he’s going to track down whatever Bastard invented these prophecies and make them eat his boot for causing Merlin so much pain; when he gets to the end though, The King smiles and shakes his head:

“You haven’t influenced or manipulated me, Merlin. I saw you doing magic accidentally, the same way I could’ve seen anyone on the street doing magic. Why does it matter that it was you? Merlin... I know you,-”

Merlin clamps his eyes shut and shakes his head, whimpering, and Arthur knows exactly what he’s thinking:

“-No, I do, I do know you, Merlin. I know that you adore your mother beyond anyone, anything in this universe, and that’s why you can’t stand to tell her that she’s been getting your favourite meal wrong for ten years. I know that you’re friends with the captain of the guard, and you’ve been getting his daughter a present for her birthday every year since her birth. I know that you think I look better in the blue tunic, but you put me in the red one more often because you know I find it more comfortable. I know that your favourite season is Spring, and I know that as much as you love the sun, you love a heavy storm even more. I know that your preferences lie with yellow flowers, but you always pick purple ones for Gwen, and blue ones for Gaius. I know you, Merlin. I watch, I pay attention, I listen. I know who you are. You are Merlin, son of Hunith, the most loyal man I have ever met, and Camelot’s greatest protector. My greatest protector. You are Merlin, the man who loves animals and the colour green, even though all your clothes are blue or red. I know that you have never hurt a single person for you own benefit or enjoyment. I know that you take care to not step on any beetles when we’re in the forest, and I know that you apologise to the fish that you scare away when you bathe in a river.-”

Arthur has a soft smile on his face as he speaks, the words flowing out of him before he even has to think them, and yet, truer than anything he’s ever said before:

“-I know that you always lay your jacket over me when we sleep in the wilds, no matter how cold you are, and I know that you always watch over me specifically instead of the camp as a whole when we’re on patrol and it’s your watch. I know that you hate having dirt under your nails, but I know that, as much as you complain, you love mucking out the stables because it gives you a few hours just to chat with the horses, like only you could do. I know you steal food off my plate, so I order more for you to get your fill. I know you hate hunting, so I try to distract you when someone goes for the killing blow, and when the animals need skinning. I know you haven’t been sleeping well, so I make sure I have no meetings in the morning that you’ll panic about being late to.-”

Arthur takes a deep breath and moves his hand from Merlin’s shoulder down to his wrist, lifting it and tugging the servant towards him gently. Merlin stares, wide eyes still weeping and his mouth ever so slightly hanging open in shock, his brows furrowed. Arthur pulls him forward until their knees are touching, letting go of Merlin’s arm only to cup the other man’s cheeks softly, with both hands; he gulps, voice—which had slowly been rising—back down to barely a whisper’s volume:

“-I know you, Merlin, I know who you are, where you come from, what kind of man you are. There is no one in this Kingdom more worthy of reverence than you, no one who deserves the credit for the coming changes more than you do. So please, you don’t have to forgive me, you don’t have to be ok straight away. You’re still allowed to lose sleep, you’re still allowed to think about running away, you’re still allowed to hide your magic until you’re ready, but please, let me do this, let me legalise magic, and let me tell everyone, one day, that it’s because of you. Let me...-”

He takes in, and then lets out again, a deep, shaky breath, pulling Merlin towards him and leaning in himself until their foreheads are resting together, his hands still stroking Merlin’s jaw. The King’s eyes clench tightly shut, but Merlin, in his shocked, teary awe, can’t find it in himself to even blink, not when Arthur thinks fuck it, opens them again, and continues:

“-Let me tell you that I love you. That I love you despite your magic, because of it, with or without it. Because I know you, Merlin, I know you more than I know myself, and I... please let me... let me tell you that I love you.”

Both of them are crying, Arthur, not in fear of rejection, he knows he doesn’t deserve Merlin’s friendship, let alone his love, but in fear that Merlin would leave, that nothing he could do would ever be enough and Merlin would leave and never look back. Merlin cries in disbelief, in anger, in guilt, in confusion, in love. It takes a few moments for him to respond through his tears and shaking and near hyperventilation:

I... tell me. Please.”

Arthur lets out one quiet sob, before taking a deep breath and closing his eyes, nuzzling against Merlin’s forehead slightly:

“I love you, Merlin. I adore every part of you, and I’m doing this for you not because you’ve manipulated me, but because you deserve it, because you’ve shown me the light when I didn’t even know I was in the darkness. I love you.”

Merlin stays quiet during his confession, waiting for Arthur to open his eyes before he says anything, his voice low and grating against his already tattered vocal chords:

“I... ok. Do it, do it for me, and do it for everyone else, and do it for yourself. One day I... one day I will tell you that I love you too, because I do, Arthur, I do, but just... not... I can’t...-”

Arthur smiles softly and nods:

“Not now. It’s ok, Merlin, I understand, and I’m thankful that you aren’t forcing the words when you’re not ready for them. I still... I have a lot to make up for, and that starts now.-”

He bites the inside of his cheek and Merlin tilts his head slightly, waiting for him to continue. He does so, his voice high and nervous and his eyes wide and almost... almost apologetic:

“-Will you... show me something? Something with your magic? Something beautiful?”

Merlin gulps and stiffens, but for barely a moment before he smiles, wide and joyous and truthful. He turns to the side, pulling Arthur so they’re both sat facing the fire, legs pressed together from hip to knee and hands intertwined on Merlin’s lap. The Warlock mutters something unintelligible and flicks his other hand towards the flame, and not a moment later the fire is dancing, changing colours and forming shapes. Arthur squints, but lets out a breath of laughter as the movement sharpens, morphing into two figures, one with dark hair and one with golden, dancing in a meadow with crowns atop their heads made of flowers. The scene only lasts a minute at most, and by the end Merlin is sagging his full weight against The King’s side, but his hand still holds Arthur’s tightly, and his smile has not wavered for a second. He mutters through his grin, his eyes now closed as he rests his head on Arthur’s shoulder:

“I’ve changed my mind.-”

Arthur hums in question, not looking away from the fire in fear he misses one last spark of Merlin in amongst the flames:

“-I’ll say it now, not one day, now. I love you, Arthur Pendragon, and I will never leave you, not ever.”

Arthur’s smile grows and he squeezes Merlin’s hand, receiving a squeeze back before he’s even fully relaxed his fingers. He turns his head to press a kiss to the other man’s head, leaving his lips there as he mumbles into his scalp:

“And I you, Merlin. We’ve got one hell of a conversation to have tomorrow, least of all with the knights and Gwen. But we’ll be together through it all, and we’ll take it at your own pace. I’ll finally give you the peace you deserve, and everything... everything will be golden.”

He says it like he’s heard it somewhere, and though it sounds familiar, Merlin’s exhausted mind can’t quite grasp the strings, but he doesn’t mind, doesn’t care, and his response is muttered on his last breath before a deep and peaceful sleep pulls him under:

“Yeah. Golden.”

~

THE END

WOWIE WHAT A RIDE!!! I’m so sorry it took me so long gang, but things have been super stressful recently and I haven’t really had the time or brain power to put towards writing! But it’s finally here and I’m pretty proud of it!! I know it’s long, but let me now what you think gang!! 

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE comment and like and reblog with tags and send messages and asks and anons!! I’ve missed interacting with you guys so much!!

[sapphire-weapon]

When do you think we’ll see Leon again in a RE game?

I’m losing hope and he’s just getting older and older.

I think RE9 might be him, Jill, and Rebecca.

While none of the events that happen in the CGI movies actually affect anything in the games at all, they do tend to tip Capcom's hand a little bit and show off where their thought process is going.

Degeneration confirmed Leon's status as anti-bioterror agent and not just charged with the protection of the president's family, like he says in the OG RE4 intro. It also established Tricell as a thing. Then, in comes RE5 dealing with Tricell and Chris having had access to Leon's RE4 report.

Damnation was about Leon and Ada and confirmed that they were banging, which led into RE6 and how that game clusterfucked their relationship into the center of the plot.

Both Vendetta and Infinite Darkness dealt with Leon reflecting on his past and/or directly referenced the events of RE4 -- so, they were the set-up/lead-in for the releases of RE2make and RE4make. Vendetta also heavily showcased Chris, and then Chris showed up in proto-RE4make -- I mean RE8.

Death Island was primarily about Jill, but her relationship with Chris was sidelined. In fact, despite both Redfields being present, neither of them felt all that relevant to the movie. That movie was about establishing Leon and Jill's dynamic, more than anything else.

And Rebecca suddenly showing up in two different CGI movies out of nowhere (and kind of replacing Ada's role in the story in terms of being a last-ditch asspull save for the main heroes?) tells me that she's bound for a return to a mainline title soon, too.

So, yeah. I think RE9 will be "while Chris was dealing with the Winters bullshit, Jill was doing this." And since RE has been pulling a lot from DMC lately, I wouldn't be shocked to see the story switch around between Jill, Leon, and Rebecca for different beats in order to change up the gameplay like DMC5 did with Nero, Dante, and V.

Dusk Golem has also said that RE9 is their most ambitious title to date, and having three intertwined campaigns (as opposed to three separate, individual ones) is something RE has never done, so.

Either that, or it's going to be a dual campaign of Jill+Leon and Rebecca+Claire, since Claire has also been showing up a lot lately, and Death Island established a partnership between them also as well.

That's just my guess. We'll see what happens.

[egalitarian-tomboy]

Why Irida & Adaman are 100% Barry's Ancestors

While people joke about Gamefreak forgetting about Barry's existence, they tend to forget that the Gen 4 remakes came out a couple months before Legends Arceus. So the argument that sometime during production they forgot to give Barry an ancestor doesn't really hold up because how early games are developed.

So it was a deliberate choice to leave a carbon copy of Barry out of the game and replace his role in two people - Adaman & Irida.

Adaman has Barry's impatience, his tendency to rush ahead to save time, his love of battling, and his playful attitude.

Irida has Barry's desire to prove herself, she contemplates the most about how things are going and what step she needs to take next in order to be better. Just like Barry goes through in the course of your adventure. She also challenges you multiple times throughout the game in order to prove how much stronger she's become.

In terms of their design, my semi-shit post pointed out some of the more aesthetic genetics both characters have that would theoretically lead to Barry's appearance. But some people forget that he wouldn't come out looking like a male version of Irida or a younger Adaman with Irida's fair skin, he would be a combination of his father and his mother. Just like genetics IRL. The only reason why some of the characters are carbon copies of their descendants is because they were design that way in order to give an authentic alternate universe vibe to ancient Sinnoh. But Gamefreak actually did something factually accurate to genetics and family traits for once. Not to say that Leon and Hop weren't good examples of genetics done right in a Pokémon game, hell Gladion and Lillie were pretty good examples as well, but Adaman and Irida being the great-grandparents x(?) to Barry makes a lot of sense when you take a step back to appreciate the genetic traits that DID pass on to him.

Blonde hair - recessive, but more dominant if both of Barry's parents are blonde. Since Irida's DNA for her blonde genes would've been passed down to her children, that DNA would be a part of Barry's genetic makeup Brown / Hazel / Amber eyes - dominant and common, but if Barry's mother came from a strong line of orange / amber eyes then the possibility of him getting her eyes is a 50/50 chance. Adaman's eyes are depicted both in game and in promotional images being a mixture of brown, hazel, and amber depending on the lighting of the art. Hair style - Barry's hair is literally a combination of Adaman and Irida's hair styles. Adaman's luscious locks and Irida's bangs / side pieces.

Now in terms of their role in the story, Adaman and Irida constantly help us in our quest to calm the nobles and restore the harmony of the Hisui region. Both of them challenge us and battle WITH us throughout the course of the story and both of them stand up for us when we're accused of being the source of the problems. Just like how Barry was loyal to us throughout the original game.

The Daybreak DLC for the game really helped flesh out the personalities of Adaman and Irida. It also gave insight to how their relationship has progressed since the nobles were quelled. Which honestly???? DID YOU SEE THE HALF-LIDDED GAZE ADAMAN WAS GIVING IRIDA WITH THAT SOFT SMILE?! HELLO?!

ALSO THE FACT THAT IRIDA HAS BEEN TALKING WITH MAI ABOUT ADAMAN AND HOW HE'S DOING AS A LEADER?????

I'm sorry I just had to fangirl a bit there.

But yeah, I think that Adaman and Irida are more than likely Barry's ancestors because Gamefreak might be forgetful but they wouldn't do our boy that dirty. Especially after he got his own anime special dedicated to him

[sonianvmd]

thh characters with a crush on you

warnings: none, maybe some swearing but otherwise nothing major

oH and mentions of murder and death but this is danganronpa so im going to assume u expected as much

a/n: so we kickin this blog off with a bang, writing for LITERALLY THE ENTIRE TRIGGER HAPPY HAVOC CAST LMFAOAOAOAO (excluding hifumi, yasuhiro, and the two despairs doe bc i’ve already made that clear)

also some character’s sections are shorter than others im sorry i just couldnt think of as many bullet points for them *tiktok cry emoji*

edit: I FORGOT CELSESTE FU K SORRY

spoilers under the cut!!

★ 彡 ★ ミ ★ 彡 ★ ミ ★

makoto naegi

when he realizes he likes you, he doesn’t necessarily panic or anything, but he does get nervous

nervous around you, that is

y’all saw how he was with sayaka

if he says anything that might sound intimate then he’ll immediately rephrase it or reassure he didn’t mean anything by it

he really only does have good intentions but his wording just kinda flops sometimes

he appreciates how you listen to him and value what he says

you don't make him feel dumb or inferior compared to a bunch of ultimates with actual talents

he’ll muster up the courage to tell you eventually

let’s hope his luck comes through 😁

byakuya togami

now when THIS man realizes he likes you, he a bitch nigga bout it 😐

he can't believe he fell for a common plebeian such as you

but it was hard not to

the way you preferred to get to the point

the way you were aware of your situation and didn't sugarcoat how you felt about it, although you certainly were nicer with it than him

he's ruthless

anyways

you knew your priorities and spent no time trying to use your resources

he noticed how much you had in common; in you, he saw himself

and we all know how this mf feels about himself 😐

he’ll be quick to defend you in class trials

he won’t realize he’s doing it but he just subconsciously protects you

but just because he doesn't notice it, don't mean the rest of the class brushes past it as well

yeah they on his ass LMFAOO

kyoko kirigiri

kyoko is very good at keeping her composure so she won’t be very obvious

she’ll probably just hang around you more

she’ll also defend you in class trials, calmly

“oh, it couldn’t have been [name]. i remember seeing them in their dorm around the time the murder took place.”

hifumi probably finna say some dumb shit like “aye what was you doin in their dorm doe” but anyways

she finds you respectable

if you have anything to contribute, she’ll let you take the floor

when she tells you, she’s very composed, but also very indirect LMFAO

she’s not too sure on how to express her interest in you but maybe she’ll go about it like “well, [name], now we’ve made it here, would you like to step back into the world with me?” or somethin else along those lines idk

take her hand

pls

toko fukawa

y’all know her whole “master togami” shtick

yeah so 😁😁😁😁

no but fr, toko ofc still has her borderline stalkerish 🧍🏾‍♀️ tendencies

she’ll often find herself staring at you, either in the library or in the morning meetings everyday at breakfast

but she isn’t as straight forward as she is with byakuya

i actually think she’d be mad shy and non confrontational

the whole thing she kept up with him ? yeah, never again

if you approach her first then she’ll be able to get a few words out but for most of the conversation, she’ll just nervously play with her braids

you’ll most likely put two and two together

unless ur a makoto kinnie bc then you’ll have to wait till someone else puts it in place for u but anyways

if you decide to approach her about it, you’ll kinda be backing her into a corner bc she’s just bad at deflecting things lmao

she’ll eventually confess (begrudgingly but hey i mean its better than nothing)

expect much stuttering and a gesture like giving you a small gift

and not to be that writer that uses japanese terms in english writing but toko seems like a tsundere but not really if that makes sense?? so she’d probably shove it in your hands and if you try to say something then she’ll just try to play it off as not a big deal lol

calls u a baka 😍😍

aoi asahina

i know y’all all see how she is with sakura

yeah.

aoi is the kind of person who’d like to spend time with their crush rather than shy away from them

she values you and your friendship very much

bring her donuts

just trust me bring her donuts

she doesn’t really realize she’s into you like that for a while but believe me, she is, the whole time

and yeah i think she’d be nervous to tell you bc that’s just natural but ultimately she’d be cool about it

uh oh looks like we goin for a swim

sakura ogami

similar to kyoko, she’s very calm

despite her big and bad appearance, she really is a sweet girl

she cares for you and your well-being very much

will indeed go on x games mode for you

the way she tells you is very sincere and well spoken

kith her

naow

im sorry this is like the shortest one i couldn’t think of much for her 😔😔

leon kuwata

flirtatious ass mf

and he’s lightskin

so this just cannot go well

y’all know that bit where it’s like the guy yawns and stretches his arms up and then wraps one around your shoulder

yeah that’s literally him LMFAOO

he’s very confident

he was fairly well known with the ladies at his old school so you know he’s rhockin wit it ‼️

but

you feel.. different than usual ??

those girls were just lil flings n dates bc he was nice enough to accept their confessions and it boosted his ego anyway so it was a win win

but you

he was genuinely interested in you since he had saw you the first time

he didn’t just acknowledge your appearance

he learnt about your personality and your hobbies and what you liked and such, and he really cared and wanted to hear you talk about it all

he felt the need to really make an effort to show you how much he respected and had affections for you

he doesn't tell you in a grand way

probably just asks you out to a movie or somethin

he's chillin

mondo owada

you know

for being the biggest, baddest, most respected biker gang leader

or just for being in a biker gang period

mondo’s a huge softie lol

yeah he gets violent but he’s a sweet guy who cares about and is loyal to his friends

so mfs need to be nice to you

or they gettin whooped

when he decides it’s time to tell you how he feels, he thinks over his words and he’s all confident there’s no way you’d reject him but then he sees you in the halls and goes 🧍🏾 LMFAOOO

he’ll push through but it’s like he’ll walk up to you and look away from you because he refuses eye contact and just go

“so y/n, would you wanna.. tch.. come to a drive-in movie with me or somethin’?... dumbass.”

real smooth mondo i think you got em good job

please tease him LMFAOO it’d be so funny

he’d probably yell but you can tell he’s not mad so you just keep going with it

but once you’re done tormenting him, you do agree to the movie, don’t worry 🙏🏾

also mondo would call his s/o doll

that is all

chihiro fujisaki

my fav dude in a dress <3

chihiro would be quite shy, but that’s just how he is tbh so no surprise there

he’s very kind so he’d check up on you often just to see how you are

he cares about you v much

the way he confesses is one that consists of a red face as he offers you a box of candy or something similar

and he’d feel honored that you reciprocate his feelings

he’d be very scared to tell you his secret but once he does, he’s delighted to hear it doesn’t make any difference to you

he doesn’t know how he got so lucky with you

not only because woooo they like me back but also because you like him despite,, well everything about him LMFAOO

sweet lil boy

i’d feel like he’d talk about you to alter ego a lot

and when u meet the program for the first time, he’s like “oh! you must be [name]! master’s told me all about you :)”

sobbing i miss him

kiyotaka ishimaru

okay here’s the thing

if taka were to like someone

i can’t tell whether he’d be more strict because he doesn’t want them to get in trouble (and also so it would hopefully divert any suspicion that he DOES like you since he treats you the same as everyone else, only more)

or if he’d hold back more because he favors them LMFAOO

so imma write a lil bit for both

in the case that he was even stricter:

he’d prefer to be around you because he believes the best way he can make sure you stay out of trouble is to make sure you don’t get into any in the first place

of course it’s impossible to monitor you every second of every day but he does his best to make sure you’re doing well

if he sees you do anything out of line, he’s shutting that shit down IMMEDIATELY

but in the case he let up:

he’d still lecture you but noticeably less than the other students

if your feet were resting on top of a desk, he’d ask you to move them and then leave you alone rather than yell at you and forcibly move them himself

if you notice his behavior towards you in comparison to the other students do not tease him about it he will go as red as his eyes /hj

either way he’s confessing to you with a polite but exaggerated bow while holding out a well thought out letter with both hands

sayaka maizono

she will tell you

idk why but i feel like she’d be straight up lol

she’d make sure she’s sincere

she is the ultimate pop idol and all so she wants to make sure you know that she really does like you and isn’t playing a sick joke on you or anything

ok bc

while i do think she’d tell you

i’d feel like she’d be a little indirect just to see how you feel

like she’d give you a free ticket to one of her upcoming concerts with a kind smile

and naturally, you're like :o

and of course you come to support her

and seeing you smile at her from the crowd and cheer her on was the encouragement she needed to push her to ask you out

for real this time

she asks if you wanna come to a concert with her and ur like “oh yeah i love ur shows!!” bc ur dumb and then she’s like “no i mean.. for another artist” and eventually it hits you that she’s asking you out and ur like “oH YEAH YEAH SURE THAT SOUNDS GREAT YEAH OK” LMFAOO

———

i really hope that this is good LMFAOO this is my first time writing for dr so 😃👍🏾

fun fact i finished toko’s section first and taka’s last 😁😁

and i’d like to thank @mius-imagination @bloodygir n the rest of the discord for helping me figure some of these characters out *simultaneously whips and nae naes*

bye ive been working on this for like weeks this took forever

———

edit: here’s a deleted section bc i kept blanking for this character 😍

[dkettchen]

completely random ask that might be worthless idk but,

I really really like your style it scratches my brain nicely, if you could please tell me how you draw eyes/hair i would greatly appreciate it

okay have a great timezone goodbye

nO SELF DEPRECATING ON MY BLOG!!!!! 

that’s like a huge area you’re asking about ummm... reference, default photoshop brush, and 20 years of practice?? I guess??

if it’s about my style specifically, a lot of it at its base comes from disney and anime/manga styles (general proportions & shapes, expressions, gender cues, etc), which works well for my comics & animator background: if someone else managed to draw the thing many times then that kind of design is likely easier to replicate en masse than high-detail illustration-y stuff. It's all about looking at reference, both from real life & other people’s work.

Ex. for fanart and meme redraws I often try and match the original art style as closely as possible (unless it is offensively far from my usual style and won’t be posable properly in which case I will take my liberties with some of it 😅), which is also great as a style study from reference!

(vv specific eye & hair advice under cut vv)

((yes I will be using this opportunity primarily to gush about my comic character designs))

generally what I think about for eyes is default eye shape (ex. Diego’s eyes are a different shape from Leon’s, the middle bit of the upper lid goes down earlier/at a different angle)

expression (what emotion are we experiencing, what are the lids doing, how do we stylise that (this is where I get a lot from anime/manga))

and other facial detail where applicable (ex. I made sure to include double lids or lack thereof in the style for my comic (which I often don’t bother with in fanart etc, cause lids is just another line to draw, ain’t got time for that x’D) in order to be able to better differentiate between different characters’ ethnicities (important when you’re stylising away a lot of information like colour schemes & various bits of face structure, I know many examples of both western & eastern cartoons that fail at communicating that stuff via design alone (which is obv not limited to eyes alone also)))

Also when in doubt: dot eyes are your friend!

for hair, think about hair texture (how do we stylise straight, wavy, curly, tight-curly hair?)

hair style (how does this person use their hair? how does their hair behave and what shapes does it make when you do that with it? various lengths of hair (really short hair like Zoros will look different than longer hair of the same texture)/hair sections (like undercuts), gel, straightening/curling, ponytails, various types and styles of braids/plaids, ex. I like to stylise protective hairstyles like on current-day Kelly & Nate’s designs as just nice big chunky shapes for each dread/twist/braid, etc)

and shape language you want to use (ex. both Leon & Al have a similar hair texture and length at times, but I use a pointy shape language for Leon (lots of strands sticking out from the main shapes, bangs, layers) and a rounder one for Al (she has very few strands separating out from her main chunk of hair, it’s a wavier looking shape instead) to differentiate more between them)

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Dumb Luck

Prompt: the usual "Everyone knows Merlin has Magic but Merlin doesn't know they know" but Arthur's being really fucking thick about it. Everything that could possibly be magic Arthur has brushed off as luck or something. At some point Merlin realizes that the knights know (or maybe he's known all along) and the knights tell Merlin that Arthur knows but he's being stupid, which leads to Merlin performing increasingly extravagant/impressive/silly magic in front of Arthur until the point Arthur just asks if Merlin would like him to acknowledge the fact that he doesn't care that Merlin has magic

no brain cells for these boys, leon stop hoarding them

Read on Ao3

Warnings: none!

Pairings: merthur, can be platonic or romantic who tf knows

Word Count: 2943

Alright. Merlin’s going to be honest. Is the absolute best at hiding his magic from people? No. Is he a damn sight near better than some other bastards would be if they had his magic? Yes, yes, he is, thank you very much. They would do quite well to remember that he is magic, and he’s had it since he was born, so he knows what he’s doing when it comes to knowing that he has it. Yes, thank you, he doesn’t go around doing every single thing he could with magic because well, then he’d never get to do much of anything ever again.

And that would be boring.

But yes, maybe he’s a little petty or lazy sometimes. Honestly, he’s just being efficient. Yes, he can justify pettiness as efficient. He’s just getting them back for something that he would otherwise have to expend so much effort doing. It’s very handy.

So the knights work out he has magic. Big surprise there, he knows. Lancelot is Lancelot, Gwaine is Gwaine. Percival stumbles in on him lifting too much a little too easily and cracks a joke about having Merlin pull his weight more on hunting trips and patrols. Elyan watches him fix armor and immediately clamors to bring Merlin to his and Gwen’s forge so he can actually show him how to fix armor.

Leon takes him aside quietly one day and thanks him. Merlin doesn’t start crying, he doesn’t end up breaking down into Leon’s arms, and Leon definitely doesn’t promise that although Merlin may not have been knighted, he thinks of him as his brother in arms.

Leon is very rude sometimes, as a matter of fact.

But Arthur doesn’t seem to notice.

Now, Arthur doesn’t notice a lot. Doesn’t notice Merlin shifting his chair a little bit so he crashes onto the floor, doesn’t notice Gwen spending just a hair too much time with Morgana in the evenings, doesn’t notice the guards that don’t even pay attention to the dungeons. Like, at all.

But there are some things he…should notice.

Like when a branch suddenly lifts itself up from a forest floor to trip a bandit.

“Bandits,” Merlin mutters under his breath, “why is it always bandits?”

He deflects a blow and sends one of them flying into a tree. Behind him, Elyan parries a blow and deftly clubs the man over the head. Arthur is battling another bandit a few paces away as one tries to run up behind him.

Merlin’s hand is out in a flash and the tree branch right in front of Arthur wheels up and smacks the man across the face.

Arthur whirls around and cuts the other man down, successfully putting an end to the fight. Around the clearing, the knights shake their heads and go about picking up the rest of their camp. Really, being far too calm for men who just killed a bunch of people.

Except for Merlin.

Merlin, while this is happening, is slowly coming to the conclusion that he would like to be swallowed up by the ground and never emerge again.

He just used magic, very obviously, in front of Arthur.

Is this the first time he’s done it? No, not by a long shot, but it is the first time he’s done it without any regard for whether Arthur can see.

Arthur turns and Merlin’s heart drops to his stomach.

Arthur wrenches his sword out of the ground and stalks over to him.

Arthur roughly grabs his shoulder. Shakes. Hard.

“Merlin! Merlin, answer me?”

“…Arthur?”

Arthur’s face is drawn. Grim. Almost his father’s. His grip hurts.

“Where are you hurt?”

Merlin blinks. What? Where is he what?

“Where is it, Merlin,” Arthur growls again, already looking him over, “where did they hurt you?”

“I’m—I’m not hurt.”

“You’re paler than a damn sheet, Merlin, you must be losing blood.” Arthur’s hand is…surprisingly gentle as it lifts his chin. “Tell me where. Come on. Now’s not the time for shame.”

“No, no,” Merlin mumbles, “I’m not—not hurt. Didn’t get hurt.”

Arthur slows, grim expression morphing to confusion. “Then why do you look so…”

If in doubt, poke fun at yourself.

“Just scared, I guess,” Merlin tries with a self-deprecating laugh, “wasn’t expecting bandits.”

Arthur huffs, lightly shoving his shoulder. “Leave it to you to be such a drama queen that I think you’re bleeding out.”

“’S nice of you to care.”

“Just glad I don’t have to drag your corpse back to Gaius.”

2.

So that was…bizarre. Not the most bizarre thing that’s ever happened to Merlin, not at all, but bizarre. Arthur may be a little unobservant at times but he’s not that oblivious.

But, in fairness to him—which is something Merlin tries not to do too often—he was in the middle of a fight and had just killed a man. Knights may not be known for the smarts but they are known for their overprotectiveness.

Yes, he can hear you lot protesting over there, it’s true and you know it.

And maybe…maybe Merlin’s been getting a little sick of Gaius screaming about how secret his magic must be kept in broad daylight with the door wide open. Listen, if you think he’s about to get scolded by your parental unit and not immediately find some way to rebel, you don’t know Merlin very well.

And yes, maybe there’s a sick little thrill he gets out of doing magic in front of Arthur.

Maybe.

So. The next time they’re on a hunting trip and he’s as sure as he can be that there aren’t any bandits around, he decides to push a little bit.

Arthur is lounging around because you can take the prince out of the castle but you can’t take the castle out of the prince and he thinks he’s still about to receive the finest of dishes that Camelot’s kitchens can prepare. Well, no, but he is about to not have to cook it himself.

“Light the fire, Merlin, it’s not that hard.”

“Have you ever lit a fire a day in your life?”

“Sure, when I was training.”

“Training? You needed training to learn how to light a fire?”

“It was survival training, with the elder knights. Had to survive a night on my own.”

“On your own?”

“Well, my own campsite. They stayed about a league away.”

Merlin just sighs and crouches down. He eyes Arthur, who is tending to his sword, and then very slowly but pointedly sets the flint and steel aside. Arthur isn’t paying much attention to him.

Slowly, Merlin leans forward and lights the fire with his magic.

Arthur looks up. Merlin looks back at him. Arthur swings the sword off his lap. He sets it on the log, his hand still wrapped around the pommel. The tip of the blade points straight at Merlin’s chest. It gleams in the firelight.

“See? I told you it wasn’t hard.”

Is…is he serious?

3.

As it turns out, yes. Arthur is completely serious.

And at this point, this is science, now, what Merlin’s doing. Experiments. He has to know the limits! He has a hypothesis, he has a method, he wants to reach a conclusion.

Hypothesis: Arthur is really, really oblivious to anything magical.

Method: do increasingly obvious magic in front of Arthur until he notices.

Conclusion: how oblivious is Arthur?

An important caveat: Merlin doesn’t know how Arthur will react to finding out he has magic, but he can burn that bridge when he gets there.

So when he wakes Arthur up the next morning, he draws the curtains with a flourish and when Arthur turns over and pulls the blanket up to his cheek in protest, he flicks his wrist and yanks the covers off the bed.

What does Arthur do?

Mumble and groan and stumble out of bed saying Merlin’s worse than his first governess.

“Wait, first?”

“Morgana and I snuck a toad into her bed. She quit after that.”

“You two did what?”

“Think there’s still frog spawn in that bed frame. Father had that chamber closed off for a while.”

“You—eat your breakfast, you prat.”

“You’re the one that pulled my blankets away!”

4.

…okay, so he needs to take it up a notch.

One of the ones that pisses Gaius off the most is when Merlin uses magic to polish multiple pieces of Arthur’s armor at the same time. So when Arthur is at his desk, Merlin lays his shield across his lap and grabs two polishing rags. He sets the can of polish next to him and starts working on the shield. When he’s sure Arthur is focusing, he uses his magic to lift the breastplate up next to him and start to beat out the dents.

“Merlin,” Arthur sighs, “can you keep it down any?”

Showtime. “Don’t know what you mean, sire.”

“That bloody racket! Can you at least be a little quieter?”

“What racket?”

Arthur shoves the paper away from him and glares at the ceiling. “That banging! It’s so loud I can barely hear myself think!”

“It’s no louder than you normally are, sire.”

“Oh, you—I ought to—“ Arthur just mutters to himself as he claps his hands over his ears.

But he never looks toward Merlin.

Huh.

5.

So maybe Arthur isn’t ignoring him because he’s oblivious. Maybe…maybe he knows already and is…is trying to protect Merlin.

Uther is still King of Camelot. Morgana is outspoken against his cruelty but he is still very much in charge. There’s only so much protection the knights can afford him. There’s only so much protection Arthur can afford him.

So…so maybe Arthur is pretending he doesn’t see because he knows he can’t save Merlin if he has to acknowledge it.

Merlin takes a few days to process that. The knights are concerned, they ask him what’s wrong, what does he need, how can they help? He waves them off, says he’s just thinking.

“Maybe,” Lancelot says kindly, “but with you, Merlin, you’re never just thinking.”

“Or at least it doesn’t stay that way for very long,” Gwaine agrees, slinging an arm around Merlin’s shoulders, “and I don’t know about you lot but I like a little bit of forewarning before I wake up to ale in my shoes.”

“You asked for another round, you didn’t say where.”

“Why the hell would I want them in my shoes?”

Gwaine does what Gwaine always does and steers the attention away from Merlin, leaving Leon and Lancelot to carefully prod him a little more privately. He waves them off too, even though he’s sure he isn’t keeping as much as he would like to be from Leon.

Merlin stops using his magic as much. He does his chores as much as he can using his two hands, lugs buckets of water without complaint, polishes armor until his nose burns and his eyes sting. He uses his magic for particularly stubborn stains in his room and keeps a sharper eye out for how to move this bandit’s sword a little to the right, or how to make this knight’s staff a little heavier.

He thinks Arthur is trying to hide for him, so he hides for Arthur.

Then he can’t hide.

A sorcerer is threatening to collapse the walls of Camelot in on themselves. The entire citadel shakes as Merlin and the knights rush out, dragging as many people as they can. The stone trembles and the wood groans and there are screams. More screams than Merlin could ever bear to hear join the chorus of more than he could ever know that plague him every time he closes his eyes.

He shuts them anyway and runs.

He runs away from the knights, magic pushing him faster, faster, faster with the need to protect the castle, protect the people, protect Arthur. The sorcerer is pulling him away from his people and for that…for that, he must pay.

By the time he gets to the field, it is rippling with magic. Merlin’s fingertips, his ears, even his nose tingles as he rushes deeper, deeper, deeper, trying to get to the eye of the storm.

There, in the middle of a patch of grass, stands a sorcerer. In robes deeper than night and hair whipped up in the wind of the spell.

Merlin grits his teeth and says no.

And when the Greatest Sorcerer to Ever Walk the Earth calls, Magic answers.

The sorcerer is dust before he manages to open his mouth. The field settles. Magic returns to the earth. And Merlin collapses to his knees as the knights run up behind him.

He isn’t a fool, despite what others may have led you to believe. He knows this was magic, could only be magic, and could only be stopped by magic.

So when the knights rush up to him and collapse to their knees around him, muttering that he’s alright, he did it, he’s safe, he did it, is he hurt, all he can think of is how he’s going to have to explain this to Arthur.

They tell him he doesn’t need to explain anything. That Arthur already knows, that he doesn’t care.

Merlin doesn’t believe them. Even if he saved Camelot, which he’s already done, he has magic. He used magic to do it.

They tell him again that it doesn’t matter, that Arthur doesn’t, won’t care.

But Merlin still has to tell him.

“Tell me what?”

+1.

Arthur rushes into the clearing. He can hear him behind them. He can’t find it in him to get up. The knights are still around him, he can hear Lancelot’s voice in his ear, feel Leon’s hands on his shoulders, but he can’t move. Can’t speak.

“Tell me what,” Arthur repeats, and oh, he sounds angry, “what is it?”

“Merlin,” someone—Gwaine—is muttering, “Merlin, it’s alright, he won’t care, he doesn’t care—“

“Of course I care,” comes the cold, cold voice and Gwaine falters, “now move.”

Merlin’s chest clenches. There’s the sharp sing of steel as Gwaine draws his sword.

“Put it down.”

“Nope, can’t do that.”

Then Leon stands up. “Arthur, please think carefully about this.”

“I don’t have to think carefully about anything. Merlin is hurt, let me tend to him. He’s mine.”

“You won’t hurt him.”

“No, I certainly don’t intend to, so move.”

Lancelot’s hands are the last to leave him. Merlin is cold. It’s so cold. His magic buries deep inside his chest and it feels hard to breathe.

Boots. Boots on the ground in front of him. They flatten the grass as a shadow blocks the light. Armor creaks as the figure kneels down. A gauntleted hand cups his chin.

“Merlin,” comes a voice that’s soft, too soft, “Merlin, I need you to look at me.”

And what is he supposed to do, disobey?

Arthur’s face is too warm when Merlin looks up at him. His mouth tugs up into a little smile as Merlin finally makes eye contact with him.

“There you are,” he says, still in that soft voice that doesn’t make sense, “now, are you hurt?”

Merlin can only blink.

“Merlin,” he says, and his voice is a little firmer as he cups Merlin’s chin properly, “are you hurt? What happened?”

His throat is too dry. “Not hurt.”

Arthur relaxes, only marginally. “Then why do you look so upset?”

The world could collapse and Merlin would be frozen here, trapped in the silence of Arthur’s gaze.

Unbidden, his eyes flash gold.

Arthur takes a sharp breath in. Merlin braces for a hit only for—

“Oh, you idiot,” Arthur whispers, “do I actually need to tell you I don’t care if you have magic?”

Pause.

Go back.

One more time.

What?

“I don’t care, you idiot,” he says in a tone that is too fond, “I don’t care that you have magic. You have it, you’re still Merlin, I don’t care.”

Rough metal gauntlets cup his face and oh—it’s cold—

“Merlin, look at me.”

“I—I am.”

“No, look.”

He blinks and has to focus on looking at Arthur.

“I’m not mad,” Arthur says firmly, “and I don’t care that you have magic.”

Merlin starts to laugh. Because of course, of course, Arthur doesn’t care. He’s been so stupid. Arthur doesn’t care. Arthur doesn’t care. He’s doubled over before he can stop himself. The laughs keep pouring out of him, his magic rushing back to his fingers, his nose, his chest. He laughs long and loud and hard and then Arthur is murmuring at him again because no, no, he isn’t laughing anymore, he’s crying.

“Come here, you big baby,” Arthur murmurs, tucking him into the gentlest embrace he’s ever had from someone wearing armor, “yes, there you go, that’s it.”

He doesn’t care. He doesn’t care.

Arthur has known Merlin has magic and he doesn’t care.

…wait, does that make Merlin the oblivious one?

Nah, that couldn’t be it.

It’s not like Arthur is hiding anything else from Merlin.

[rextasywrites]

i heard someone's got their requests open...... SO i dont really have much other than my thirst for smut and the total conviction that leon is a boobs man (while chris is an ass man), you can't change my mind. and its not even about size, i just know that man loves him some 🍒, big or small. anyways, im also a sucker for some angst so what about a little thing where leon and the reader broke up for whatever reason but deep down they miss each other a lot and wish they have not given up so easily, and then they sleep together... for like the first time since the break up and leon is all up on her and her 🍒 that he missee so much. just smut w a little plot lmao, thank you if you consider!! :)

This has been my favourite request so far so I had to get to it right away! i hope you enjoy it anon! <3

Warnings: smut and some angst at first

It’s been a month since Leon left. After one of the worst missions he ever had to face, he decided it was enough. If he had to face zombies and bio weapons and fuck knows what else, he’d do it alone and not risk her life too. Breaking up was the wisest decision, keeping her save. As a Kennedy, she would always have a target on her back, ready to be shot at. And if another person he loves dies because of him...Leon didn’t know if he would be able to overcome the grief and sadness.

It was two in the morning when you heard someone banging against your door. Out of reflex, you grabbed the gun he had left at your apartment months ago, ‘just in case’. Now was one of those times you thought. With an unlocked gun and in your nightgown you headed towards the door. The mysterious visitor was still banging against it, saying your name over and over again. “(Y/N), (Y/N), open up!”, you’d recognize that voice anywhere. Leon. And he sounded drunk.

You placed the gun away and unlocked the door. This caught Leon by surprise and he stumbled forwards, thanks to your great reflexes you caught him before his pretty face could kiss the hardwood floor. “Leon, the fuck you doing here?”, you asked as you helped him back on his feet. Together you headed to the living room where you sat him down on the couch, getting him a glass of water.

“I miss you baby!”, Leon hip cupped during the sentence, giving you his best puppy eyes. Fuck, not the puppy eyes…

“Leon, we broke up a month ago.”, you replied as you placed the cup of ice cold water in his hands. It still hurt, and seeing him in a state like this confirmed your belief that he wasn’t taking it easily.

Leon shrugged and took a few sips from the water, pulling a face. “That’s not wodka…”, he muttered as he placed the glass down. “Anyway. I missed you and your smell and your soft hair and your boobs and…”

You sighed and cupped his cheeks, “Leon, stop it. We broke up for a reason…”

“And that reason is stupid as fuck. I miss you.”, he confessed like the drunken mess that he is, still using his puppy eyes like you. Leon tilted his head, sticking his bottom lip out, “I miss waking up to you next to me, when you drool on your pillow and your hair is all messy an-”

You cut him off. Enough is enough. You had longed for him and his touch ever since he walked out of the door of your apartment, crying just like you did. Ever since you wanted him for yourself again, your Leon. You cut him off with a soft kiss, tasting the various liquors he had dumped into his body into the hours prior to your meeting.

“Leon…”, you whispered against his lips, the stubble of his beard scratching against your cheeks as he rubbed against you. All the feelings pent up were crashing down on you, and you both couldn’t hold back the desire burning deep inside of your bodies.

“Bedroom. Now.”, Leon said as he stood up, pulling you with him. Despite his stumbling, the muscle memory told him where your bedroom was, and in no time you two were in the bed you had shared so many times. Leon pulled you into his lap, instantly burying his face between your breasts. As a breathy moan escaped your throat, Leon tugged on your nightgown. “Off.”

To his enjoyment, your nightgown found its way to your bedroom floor, and to his delight, you weren’t wearing a bra. “Damn, how I missed them”, Leon muttered as his eyes were fixed on your breasts, taking in their shape, form, even the colour of your nipples. His calloused fingers flicked your nipples, drawing a moan from your lips. Ever since he had found out they were your weakness...Nothing had stopped him from spending literal hours between them, drawing one orgasm after the other from your body.

“You sound so fucking sweet like that...missed your cute moans, babe.”, Leon growled out as he placed one hand on your hips, guiding you to grind against him. As if it was in your blood, you moved your hips against his, feeling his rather obvious bulge against your panties. “Good girl.”, Leon flicked his tongue over your nipples, one time each, just enough to make you wish for more. Your hand dug into his shoulders, a silent beg for touch and satisfaction.

The moment Leon wrapped his lips around your nipple felt as if you were floating on cloud 7. The familiar feeling of his teeth gently biting into your soft flesh, leaving marks behind to show whose girl you are. How his beard scraped ever so slightly against your skin, tiny red traces of your connection for days to admire. He sucked and licked as if his life depended on it.

Because you were so busy with the pleasure Leon brought upon you with his mouth, you didn’t realize that he had tugged your panties to the side, only when his fingers brushed against your clit was when you gasped. Leon pulled away from your tits, a string of saliva connecting his lips to your nipple. What a sight, what a view. “Do you want this?”

“Of fucking course.”, you breathed out, and before Leon could suck on your other breast, you pulled him into another kiss, breathlessly but full of need and lust. While you kissed Leon, his fingers collected enough of your sheer endless wetness and plunged them inside of you. The stretch and calloused feeling made you feel filled up, a feeling you had longed for since Leon had last touched you. “Leon, please…”, you moaned out as he stroked over your g-spot, feeling every little bit of your inside, of the place that made you feel so good.

“Please what? Say it, little girl.”

“I want you Leon. Fuck, I need you. Now.”, and that was all Leon needed. He pulled his fingers out of your pussy, leaving you empty and whining. You wiggled your hips while he pulled down his own jeans and took off his shirt, giving you enough time to admire the beautiful man in front of you.

Leon pulled you closer once he was undressed, leaning against the wall by the bed, guiding your hips closer to his. God, he was so beautiful with his uncut cock, standing at attention just because of you. “I missed this.”, you confessed and to your surprise, Leon agreed with you before he slowly guided himself inside of you. Fuck, how you deeply you missed his. It felt as if you two were made for each other. You needed a hot second to adjust to his size, he wasn’t so big that it would hurt, but...an impressive cock was hidden in his pants.

“Fuck, little girl, you feel so good.”, Leon groaned as he started to move his hips along with your, moving as one. He rested his head on your shoulder, one arm around your waist, the other one busy with rubbing your clit. His touch alone made you see stars, and since you hadn’t masturbated since he left, your orgasm was approaching fast.

The first waves of your orgasm caught Leon by surprise, making him look up to you. “Already?”, he asked, his lips parted and swollen from all the kisses you had shared. You nodded as another wave washed over you, and Leon felt his cock twitching inside of you. So tight, so fucking good…

“Fuck, baby”, Leon moaned against your skin, pulling you into another open mouthed kiss. The taste of alcohol was fading off, replaced with his unique taste. And fuck, it was an addicting taste. Your tongues danced together as every moan was swallowed by the other party.

It didn’t take much longer for you to cum. His thick fingers, his cock made for your pussy...together you reached your peaks, panting and moaning as the orgasms came over you. As you contracted around him, Leon filled you up to the brim, the sweetest feeling of them all with your lovers cum inside of you. Your neighbours probably heard your loud moans but at this moment, you couldn’t care less. 

As Leon went soft, his cock slipped out of you, his cum dripping out. But in this very moment you felt more connected to Leon than you had ever been, and judging by his soft smile, he felt the same.

“Come on little one, lets catch some sleep?”, Leon suggested. It wasn’t even in question that he would leave. Fuck no, this bed had been his bed for so long and now came his chance to sleep in it again. You nodded and got off his lap. After quickly drying yourself up, you joined Leon under the covers, snuggling against his chest.

With a soft yawn you dozed off in your lovers arms, but you were sure you heard Leon say, “I love you and will do so forever.”