#so his awful trip with his father was a few years before that and the trip with his mother absolutely could’ve been influenced by the movie

[stitchkiss]

i’m just now realizing jamie and sam and possibly will are part of gen z. absolutely wild info

[devoutekuna]

His child falls inlove

Includes- Toji, Sukuna, Nanami, Gojo, Geto

A/N- Geto's part is from my previous blog

Sukuna-

Sukuna practically hates anyone who isn't his wife, daughter or cook. Always thinking of them as just his next meal rather than a human. So when his daughter accompanied him in a village raid she quickly wandered off and found her new best friend. Away from the massacre as they wandered further into the forest, soon after her father had found them playing near the stream, trying to catch the fish for a gift.

Staring up at her father as he stood proudly behind her, the little boy suffering at the sight of the 4 armed man. "DADDY!" Screaming down the poor man's ear, sticking her hands out for a hug only to hug his leg instead. The flower crown tipping off. "This is my husband daddy!" Pointing to the brunette behind her, he seemed so scared of her right now, and he had the right to. "That's no son in law of mine. Scram before I eat you." Scaring the poor boy out of his shoes as he quickly ran away, not daring to look back, atleast he'd have some kind of mercy on the boy as he watched him run away, he wasn't the right type for him to eat him.

Staring up, eyes swell if tears as she watched her 'husband' run away. "But-" tears pooling down her face as she sat down, sulking as he flower crown fell off. "Get up" nudging her with his foot, he didn't like to see his loved ones crying, glancing around before squatting down beside her.

Nanami-

Coming home to find daughter sat at the kitchen table talking about her field trip, talking about how she saw the giraffes and had a parrot talk to her. She was in awe with the parrot, always talking about the rainbow bird saying her name. That was till she saw her father get home, jumping up and down as she hugged his leg.

"Guess what dad!" Not giving him a chance to respond as he tried to sit down beside you. "A boy!" Unable to finish her sentence from the excitement. Sat down criss crossed beside you, kissing your cheek as a welcome gift. "A boy! He told me I looked pretty!" She took very much pride in her outfit, especially today when she got her hair done in a new cute hairstyle, with a matching blue dress contrasting the blond her she adorned. Nodding in response to her, the way she smiled was so cute. Shaking his shoulders as she was so eager to see his reaction. "That's nice sweetheart".

Geto-

Suguru hates how his daughter has a crush on one of his followers' son, he was first happy for the fact that she looked so joyful coming back home with a real ring. Soon after he saw them playing outside, he instantly knew who's son it was.

"And then she's playing with one of the monkeys' son!?" He ranted to you, as you say on the floor trying to nurse your few months old to sleep. You didn't even pay any mind to him as he always had one of his hissy fits especially about his followers. "I should kill them all right now!" He had a deep hatred for non sorcerers, fortunately you and both of your kids had a cursed technique, so you had nothing to worry about. Nodding in response as you took it all in, "Right, yes babe, now can you get the food out of the pan?" Glancing at the cooking pot which was oversimming due to his negligence. Turning off the stove as he sat back down on the floor, making the effort rattle.

"Then he has the audacity to give her a ring!" Throwing the ring onto the table, huffing and puffing wasn't a good look on him, especially since you fell in love with him due to his sarcastic nature. "Awww, that's cute suguru" grabbing the ring and inspecting it, surely a 3 year old wouldn't be able to buy something this expensive. Hearing the soft sound of feet running towards the front door, inching a jar open as she reached for the door. "Bye bye!" Her soft voice being heard as she opened the door, eyes all going towards the front door as giggles came upon your ears.

"Hi princess, how was your day?" Watching as your husband's demeanor slightly changed to a more relaxed face, still crossing his arms over his chest. She looked so cute wearing her purple dress, smiling as soon as she saw her family. "It was great papa! This boy gave me a fish but I had to put it in the pond." His image of the non sorcerers only got worse as soon as he heard about the fish, the fish in the pond were some of his favourite types and he didn't even know how they both got into that area. Giggling as soon as you saw his face change back to a scowl, he didn't want his precious daughter to be in the same vincity of the lowlifes.

Toji-

Sending his daughter to school dressed up in allink since it was valentines day, only to receive her back with a bag full of food and a small grey teddybear sticking out. "Look daddy" swirling around her dress to show her father. "I got a gift!" Holding the gift bag up to him, the teddybear dropping out as she picked it up and walked off. Noticing the small heart shaped pin at the back of her head.

Glancing at you as he sat down beside his wife. "That's cute, she's got a gift from someone" taking small card, clearly being made by a 2 year old due to the messy handwriting. "Ya don't say" clearly in shock that his daughter found someone at school.

"Awe, maybe we should let them have a playdate then" clearly being adored at the toddlers' romance. "Hell no" inspecting the food inside, chocolate bars, sweets, even a keyring for her, taking out a chocolate bar noticing that it's his favourite brand. "Don't eat it Toji!" Slapping the bar out of his hand as you ripped the bag from his lap. Scowling at the thought of not eating. Hearing the soft sound of his daughter's feet running towards them brought him out of all his impulsive thoughts.

Gojo-

"Chocolates" flashing the chocolates his way, it was practically empty, their grubby hands running with melted chocolate as they sat in the shade beneath the tree. "Who's this?" Asking his son as he glanced at the girl who was clearly matching his off spring.

"My girlfriend!"not daring to look up at him as he stuffed his face with chocolates, he knew for a fact that his father had a sweet tooth, so he wanted to eat them all before he came,inviting the girl who gifted them to him toe at them too. The small girl waved at him, her face also covered in chocolate. Along with her poor dress, the suffering her parents would go through to get that out of her clothes.

After some convincing he had his son in his arms, hands smudging all over his collar as he carried him away, "I will marry her" reciting the exact same words gojo said to him when he was a baby. "Yeah right" knowing this child romance story wouldn't last.

[starzgaze]

Just a though rmb that time u made hae-in and Jinwoo fight for y/n? I just rmbered it randomly and I propose:

Hs Jinwoo and Hae-in both regressing and they're pining for Y/N who used to be a mage/healer/support for them.

Ur local hottest boy in school + The it girl and Track Running champion of another school fighting for y/n's hand

this has been living rent free in my head to the point ive unconsciously drawn it LMAO so art down below if u scrolllll

okay but this concept with an extremely mundane [name]?? hello especially someone who's just trying to get past school with average grades and average effort then maybe with a few volunteering here and there where it's coincidentally being the assistant for the coah in the track and field team.

[name] being known for helping a few people and having an affinity when it comes to patching up people and helping them so volunteer work is just light work for them so they didn't mind as much when the things they do during their time in the track and field team is tossing water to the runners and sometimes fixing them up if they trip or break an ankle. being part of the red cross club last year really helps in these situations.

then [name] meets jinwoo who's the new member in the team and someone who just suddenly transferred to the school, saying it was about his father getting a promotion and they needed to move places.

[name] believes this because everyone has their own situations but it was in fact jinwoo finally finding out what school [name] was in after a few years of trying to search for them then he transferred school, not caring if it's the middle of the school year. of course [name] doesn't know this.

then those two gets closer and jinwoo tries to charm [name] with silly jokes and impressive stamina and speed whenever he's on the field, leaving [name] awe struck. it was obvious to everybody else that the new extremely handsome hotshot of the track and field team had a little thing for the stupidly mundane volunteer who only took the job because they needed something for their community service hours.

just as about this man was gonna ask [name] out the coach of the track and field team announces that now on during after class practices another student from a different school will be attending their training program and blow and behold it's fucking cha hae-in much to jinwoo's dismasy.

hae-in isn't much experienced with this whole regression thing so she's less prepared compared to jinwoo but her persistence and determination just to see her sweet little [name] again what helped her pulled through and landed her here.

hae-in took the program through some connections and begging to her coach to let her train under a different school, claiming it will help her grow and the coach believed her because how can you deny your favourite athlete that's stupidily amazing in the sport? anyway hae-in successfully got into [name]'s school without moving in even if it's not the whole day, seeing [name] was more than enough for her.

that is until she saw her number one rival at the corner, hae-in compares him to a cockroach with how he can't leave her sigh and his sense of fashion that's constantly dark themed. she's low-key pissed that he's here, like just leave her alone and her cutie [name] that's not for him.

[name] spends more time with the two, now hae-in is in the picture. they would help hae-in whenever she would get a sprain and give her tips on what to do to alleviate the pain and get better asap before the regionals or take her out to hang out because it was easier being the same gender. jinwoo is fuminggg at this because it took him like months to do that and for hae-in it took like a measly few weeks?? that's so unfair

suddenly the two get into little competitions with eachother trying to impress [name] and of course they noticed but they don't believe that the two most sought after players in the school or even the region would have a thing for them, they're just good friends.

that drives them insane but it's okay one of them will make you realize it's more than that!! it's just a matter of time and effort you'll be in their arms.

btw imagine after school going out with the two and you guys eat at some street vendor spot then they argue who could pay. they get so distracted with arguing you just pay for yourself as you watch with the street vendor the two fighting.

[itsthestutterforme]

Convince Me Otherwise (Jack Reacher x reader)

Summary: You are the youngest cadet in the Special Investigators. So no one really took you seriously. No one except Reacher and Neagley.

Notes: GIF is not mine, all mistakes as my own, dark themes (mentions of murder, death by suffocation)

Prompt credit @creation tivepromptsforwriting : “I’m not the right person for you.”“You’re doing a great job at convincing me of that.”

Requested by: @screechingdreamercollectorsblog SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG OMG

**

“Wow, you’re really reaching for that promotion, aren’t you, kid?” O’Donnel taunts, purposely closing your laptop so you couldn’t ignore him anymore.

“No, I’m not.” You grumble, attempting to open the laptop but O’Donnel holds it closed.

“You never go out with us. You’re missing out on quality bonding time, you know.” He continues.

“Yeah, you’re missing David getting his ass bear in pool.” Neagley prods, lifting David’s hand from your laptop.

“And get your grubby hands off her laptop. Rude.”

“Here we go. Let the nerds unite.” David starts.

“These nerds can run circles around you, pretty boy.” Neagley taunts, sticking her leg out to trip him when he walked by.

“Awe, you think I’m pretty?”

You and Neagley made eye contact before rolling your eyes.

“That’s enough, O’Donnel. Let her work,” Reacher mediates when he walks into the room.

You smiled when Neagley threw you a wink before walking back to her desk. It was her subtle way of saying ‘awe, he’s defending you’.

She knows about your crush on Reacher for as long as the unit came together. You knew it was never going to happened en because of your age difference.

But there’s nothing wrong with a crush (tat would absolutely lead nowhere).

You had just turned 20 a couple months ago, and this year, you graduated from MIT at the top three in your class.

A part of you was pissed that you just barely missed being nominated as valedictorian for your class.

But that was just your perfectionism getting the best of you. You’re sure that your dad would have been proud that you are doing so well in your studies and graduated a whole year and a half early.

When your dad was enlisted, he would tell you about all the tips he’s made and beautiful sights he’s seen.

And before he died, he didn’t mention anything about the place he was stationed. He didn’t write a single letter talking about the climate, the trees, not even the animals.

Nothing.

And when you asked for pictures, he told you no and to drop it. That in itself peaked your interest but out of respect for him, you didn’t pry anymore.

The following week he was injured in combat and spent the night in the infirmary. You said you were going to see him.

You had the clearance for it anyway, but he begged you not to go. After a few minutes of arguing, he finally told you.

He was sent there to investigate a string of murdered. He found what he was looking for. The culprit.

And he was 99 percent sure that he wouldn’t make it through the night. They were watching him, waiting the catch him alone.

They orchestrated him getting hurt in the field just to get him alone in the infirmary.

You didn’t listen to him; you took the next flight to Iraq and he was gone before you could get to him. They gave you his uniform and folded flag on top of it.

You demanded a copy of his autopsy since they wouldn’t let you see his body. And they refused. You didn’t have any connections there so you had no choice but to accept what they said. For now.

Something wasn’t right with your father’s death. And you were going to figure out what happened. But as much as it hurt, you had to wait a while before you could start investigating.

Chances were you were being watched and you wouldn’t be much help finding your father’s murderer if you were dead.

When Reacher hand picked you to join his team, you told him about it. He was on board with you investigating, under one condition: get out if they ever pay you a visit. He didn’t want to see you dead.

He’s been to enough funerals for several life times. He sat on your desk and you gave him your undivided attention.

“Any luck?” He asks, his hazel green eyes trained on you as he waited for your response. Your cheeks burned under the intensity of his gaze.

“No, sir. I don’t know what I’m doing wrong,” you leaned back in your chair and linked your arms above your head. Just looking at your computer made your eye twitch.

“What have I told you about calling me sir?”

“I’m sorry, it’s out of habit.”

He remains silent for a moment, taking in your facial expression.

“I’m tapping you out for the day,”

“Reacher, no. I got this. Let me-“

“Tomorrow is another day, Y/N.”

You released a long breath when he stands from your desk, but he doesn’t quite leave your area yet.

“If I see you lift a finger to open the computer, I will take it for the night.” He states.

He made it all of one step before turning around and taking your computer into his hands.

“Hey!”

“It’s was too tempting for you not to open it anyway. Go home, Y/N.” He calls over his shoulder and he leaves you alone in the empty room.

Everyone left at least an hour ago, so it was just you. And without your computer, you were practically useless.

You stood from your chair with an emphasized groan and listened to what Reacher told you.

**

Dixon’s chuckles echoes throughout the office as she flirted with Reacher. Your heart clenches in your chest because you knew that Reacher always flirted back.

You and Neagley met eyes over your computer screens and rolled your eyes at the same time. You both had other things to be worrying about. Like our actual jobs and what exactly was Dixon doing?

Playing Regina George with Reacher. That’s what she was doing.

You clicked on the next file in the your folder that Reacher gained access for you. All he had to do was pay the man a visit.

He was giving you a hard time; withholding the files that your father gave him and told him to guard with his life.

Your father had told him to keep it away from seeing daylight ever again, but most importantly, to keep it away from you. He didn’t bank on you having a Jack Reacher as a part of your chain of command.

The file loaded and launched the media player on your computer. It was CCTV for the hallway camera perpendicular to the infirmary.

There was a man dressed in Class D uniform that walked over to your father’s bed rest, taking a pillow from a bed that he passed along the way.

Your eyes widened as you quickly realized that was about to happen.

Your father’s legs were kicking as the man covered his face with the pillow, aggressive suffocating him.

You clicked out of the file and slammed your computer closed, standing from your desk.

Reacher looked away from Dixon to you, much against Dixon’s choice. You walked over to Reacher’s desk and he stood when you approached, immediately noticing the difference in your energy.

“I need to talk to you,”

“He’s a little busy right now,” Dixon starts.

“I’ll come find you, Dixon.” Reacher interrupts, letting you lead the way to the conference room:

“I’m not sure it’s wise to speak freely here,” you said, your voice shook with every word. Hearing you like that made Reacher suddenly feel the impulse to protect you.

“Did someone visit you?” He asked and you shook your head no.

“Did you crack it?”

You hesitated a moment before nodding.

“You want me to take care of them?”

“No, no. I can handle it.” You said desperately, wiping your tears before they could touch your cheek.

Much to both of your surprise, he wiped a stray tear away with the pad of his thumb. An act so simple that told you one thing: I’ll protect you.

“Promise me you’ll be careful,” he pleads.

“I was going to tell you the same thing,” you said, sighing when he held the side of your face.

“This shouldn’t be happening. I’m not the right person for you,” Reacher says, not moving a muscle.

“You’re doing a great job at convincing me of that.”

[ddarker-dreams]

re-reading bits and pieces of SR have helped me quite a bit with post-election depression; it turns out an impending sense of doom can be evaded quite well with The Sillies! that being said, how would the bucci gang help SR Reader if she was going through a depressive episode?

i'm grateful to know that SR is able to bring some solace in what's been an awful state of affairs, as i've always considered it a comfort series myself.

[Scarlet Ribbons index]

Giorno senses something is off before you do. He's deeply in tune with your emotional state, taking mental note of everything you do down to the tiniest details. His initial instinct would be to identify any underlying issues that might have brought the depressive episode about. He's a man driven by action, willing to fight against unfavorable odds if it means enacting his vision. This leads to some internal struggle on his part, as there's no clear-cut solution to these bouts. He views you as his significant other in the purest sense — relying on you and wanting you to do the same with him. He'd eventually recognize his own hubris in his quest to 'fix things', opting for a more supportive role instead. Giorno matches his approach based on his perception of what he feels you need.

Bruno is surprisingly susceptible to your first few attempts to explain away your shift in mood. In the back of his mind, he knows something is wrong, but it's such a frightening prospect. He observed the signs in his father after his mother abandoned them. He'd get uncharacteristically stern with you, imploring that you confide in him if you keep dodging the issue. Essentially freezes your work and puts you on an indefinite sabbatical. He worries over you to the point of self-neglect. Not the healthiest approach, but there's no doubting his commitment to restoring your wellbeing. Bruno would take a break from his obligations and bring you to his hometown, where he hopes the change of pace will have a positive influence.

The ever-pragmatic Fugo would struggle with this greatly, he's not exactly a shining example of mental stability himself. He recognizes what's happening and feels utterly powerless to stop it. A bit hypocritical in the sense he'll pitch therapy or some other pharmaceutical treatment that he'd never undergo himself. He suffers from acting as an armchair psychologist, critiquing any habits that might contribute to your depression and getting frustrated if you don't actively work to resolve them. It comes from a good place; he's devastated over what's happening. You're supposed to be cheerful, making terrible jokes and pop culture references that drive him insane. He'll work himself to the bone for you to feel an iota better.

Narancia is at a loss at first. When your change in mood extends past a few 'bad' days, he can tell it's something serious, even if he can't put it into words. Ultimately, he decides it doesn't matter if it takes a week, year, or a decade; he will stick by you through everything. Narancia isn't one for subtlety, it's obvious that he's checking up on you multiple times throughout the day. He's tripping over himself to make you smile, even if it's for a fleeting second. Additionally, he's a better listener than most would give him credit for. There's absolutely nothing you could do or say that'd make him think less of you, so you never feel judged.

There is no one better at helping you feel 'normal' than Mista. He won't demand an explanation like Bruno, get frustrated over a perceived lack in progress like Fugo, or coddle you as Narancia's inclined to do. He's consistently himself. He'll take you on dates, make awful jokes, and go on unprompted spiels about his latest musings. It's not that he doesn't care — far from it — his view is just that knowing you, you'd feel bad if you realized how worried he is. If you open up to him, that's fine. If you don't, that's also okay. He moves at your pace and you never feel pressured to act a certain way around him.

Abbacchio's like well, that makes two of us. It's a complicated development. Having gone through a major depression, Abbacchio can technically empathize with you the most, but seeing himself in you is initially disconcerting. He's similar to Fugo in that your weird, peppy ways have become a lifeline. It's soul-crushing for him to recognize those first few signs. Unlike Fugo, however, he doesn't linger in this limbo for long. He takes a 'tell it like it is' approach. He won't shower you with platitudes or sugarcoat reality, but there's an undeniable thoughtfulness behind his every action. He'll give you space when necessary, sit in silence if you want company yet lack the words, ensure sure your pantry is stocked and laundry done. Abbacchio can be what he wishes someone had been for him.

[ryiju-muunie]

Kiss Tomorrow Goodbye

18+ viewer discretion is advised

Fem!reader/inmate!Toji Fushiguro Warnings: established relationship, slight angst, mentions of abuse, conjugal visit, breeding, breeding kink, missionary, cream pie, DILF Toji, Toji has a BD ;) Word Count: 3343 DESC: Your last visit until your boyfriend gets out of jail takes a spicy turns AKA idk how conjugal visits work so bear with me

Hi sorry IVE BEEN GONE! I see your requests and I'm getting there I promise!

It had been a year since your boyfriend decided to defend you in public. And a year since his sentence. That whole day was a mess from start to finish, and you wished you could take it all back. It started innocently enough, a family trip with him and his son, Megumi, at the local mall. Megumi clung to your hand more than Toji’s, causing your comments to start. To you, they were all jokes and to Megumi, they were hilarious. Little things like, “Aw, I guess Daddy’s not the favorite anymore!” Or, “Guess you need to put a ring on it sooner, babe.” It was supposed to be sweet fun, but it was getting to him. Maybe it was his rough childhood speaking or his insecurity as a parent, but your snide remarks weren’t helping his soured mood. Now that you looked back on it, it was your fault that he snapped. 

That man did nothing wrong other than come up to you and begin to gently compliment your outfit while you watched Megumi play in the child's play area. He did nothing that warranted your boyfriend coming up and grabbing him by the shirt collar, and socking him dead in the jaw. He did nothing wrong as he fell to his knees, and as your boyfriend kicked him in the gut. The man did nothing as he was viciously assaulted for merely hitting on a woman he didn’t know was taken. You were horrified as you watched your boyfriend send punch after punch his way, deforming his face with his fists. Megumi was terrified to see his dad do such a thing. 

But Toji heard nothing, saw nothing other than the fact a man was threatening his position as your loving boyfriend. And he was loving. Yet, something made him snap. It was a long time coming with his aggressive behavior in general. Especially with men who even looked in your direction. Call it possessiveness, call it love; You felt sick. Your hand covered Megumi’s eyes and slowly you began to walk backward, staring at the man you said you loved. Once he finished his punches, his hands covered in blood, he looked back at you two. He was hollow, a shell of who he was. He always was after his explosive anger attacks. They came and took hold of that man and made him instantly regret ever being alive. He watched the two of you back away in fear, as the security guards detained him. 

You did love him, you couldn’t help it. Even if he punched that man for no reason in your eyes, to him he was about to lose you. Toji was a sad man who came from a traumatic home, but you didn’t know that. He never let you in on why he was the way he was, or why he had that damn scar on the side of his mouth. The man never let you in and told you about how he got it, or why he was so protective of you. In his eyes, any man could take you away and leave him alone with nothing but a bottle in his hand. 

It took you a month before you decided to visit him in jail. You didn’t want to take Megumi because you knew it would take him a while to warm up to the idea of seeing his father after what he witnessed. You were patted down and inspected, told to take off your shoes and all that fun stuff. It felt like a lunch room, rather than what you had seen on TV. You sat at a round table, with a few decks of cards sprawled in the middle. Toji wasn’t there yet, but he was aware you were visiting. And you knew he’d be pissed you hadn’t come sooner. You figured he’d be all cocky and give you the silent treatment like the bitch he was. So you didn’t expect to see him look so … defeated. He walked into the room with two guards beside him, just for security. They motioned to your table and he looked at you. Your boyfriend looked … dead. Bags under his eyes and a hollow expression. The same expression you saw on that day. Regret and remorse for his actions in a way you hadn’t seen before. There was something different in his eyes when he saw you, a glimmer of hope. Maybe all wasn’t lost. Maybe he still had you. 

You stood up and swallowed, watching him come toward you in his tan jumpsuit. Your arms opened involuntarily and he pulled you into a very quick hug, probably protocol. He smelled different, he felt different. There was a stiff movement about his motions as he sat down across from you, his hands on top of the table. Was he … shaking? Like an abused pitbull, he stared at you and waited for you to speak. 

“Toji…” You began, hesitating before resting your hands atop the table as well, “Megumi isn’t ready to see you yet,” he nodded and looked away. 

“You came to see me. I thought you’d never come back after that day,” his eyes met yours again and you felt a wave of sadness. This wasn’t the cocky man you fell in love with. This was a shell of that man. “I’m sorry baby,” he rasped, voice strained against his throat. 

“Why did you do it?” Was all you could ask. If you got some clarity, and some answers, then you’d be able to figure out what to do after that. You’d be able to figure out how to address your relationship. You still loved him, we know this, but was it worth it? Was waiting for him while he rotted worth it? The man was silent for a few moments, staring at the table between your hands. Your hands were atop each other, near his but far enough you two wouldn’t get in trouble. You wanted to touch him as badly as he wanted to touch you, to break the distance and tell him everything would be okay. He needed it, you could tell. 

“When I was a kid, my brothers threw me into a pit of snakes,” he didn’t look up, “And my parents … laughed,” a defeated laugh came out of his lips, “No one treated me like how you do,” then Toji looked up at you, a dry edge taking to his voice. His eyes were like glass, staring at you with his soul naked to yours, “I can’t lose you or ‘Gumi- I can’t lose you,” then he took your hands, just for a second to squeeze them before he let go. The touch was fleeting, and it burned. Your skin ached where he touched it, and you longed to hold him. To tell him it was okay. Never in your relationship had he ever let you see this side of him, the side of him that was about to cry. The side of him that was truly vulnerable. Even with just a few short words you knew there was more to his childhood than he led on, more horrific stories than that one. His skin was all you wanted to feel, as you saw the tears pool up in his eyes. This wasn’t him, this wasn’t the Toji you knew. This was him at his lowest level, begging for help. Begging for … you. 

You weren’t going to let go of him that easily. 

Every weekend, you visited him. Sunday, at noon, you’d come and greet him with a smile. You didn’t understand how much it affected his mental state just to see you. It gave your boyfriend something to wake up for in the morning, it gave him motivation to work out and help out around the jail. He wanted to be with you, touch you, smell your hair, anything. Even if he couldn’t, and even if he could only see you for a few hours, that was all he needed. You saw his improvement slowly but surely, every time you’d come over. His skin brightened and his smirk was wide. Toji was getting his personality back slowly, but surely. Megumi visited him shortly after you began your weekly visits. You let the two of them talk alone, watching from afar. It was heartbreaking to see how your step-son perspective of the world had shifted all from one incident. It was heartbreaking to see him become cautious around the man who had been there since his birth. But Fushiguro knew this all too well, and he understood things would be different until the trust was built. 

There were two months until Toji would be released with parole. You weren’t able to hide how excited you were, just to be able to see him and hold him. That’s all you wanted. Just to taste his mouth and run your hands through his hair, which had gotten shaggier now. Your boyfriend’s physical appearance had definitely changed, in one way or another. Whether that was his muscles or the fact he had a new tattoo he didn’t want to tell you about. You didn’t really notice the changes, since you hadn’t seen him without that bulky jumper off in … a year. You didn’t want to admit how sexually frustrated you had been since that day. Nothing could replace his fingers, or his big cock thrusting into you. Not even a dildo, not even your fingers. No vibrator was as good as his tongue and no pillow was as plush as his thighs. You had to face it, you were desperate for him to leave. Two months were going by too slowly, and it was killing you. 

Until one of your friends had mentioned something offhandedly. A conjugal visit. You weren’t sure what it was until you did a bit of research, then you knew you were on board. A personal, one-on-one visit with just you and your boyfriend. You knew you didn’t have to ask him, of course, he’d agree. Toji was just as pent-up as you, more so in fact. It was hard, to see you in those perfect outfits and to see your perfect fact, and not being able to do anything. He couldn’t hug you, he couldn’t hold you, and he surely couldn’t fuck you. So when one of the guards came to him on a Monday and told him you had scheduled a conjugal visit for that day, he was intrigued, to say the least. Your boyfriend had heard about it from some of his cell friends, but he didn’t think you were that desperate. He thought if anything he would be the one going crazy while you took this like a champ, he had no idea you were lusting as much as he was. 

You were issued a trailer with a bed, a small bathroom, and a nightstand full of condoms and lubricant. It was spacious and quite clean for being used for sex regularly. You found yourself seated on the bed as you waited for Toji to come with an escort. Once that door closed it would just be the two of you, ready to do whatever the hell you wanted for hours upon hours. The door jiggled a few times before you saw him. 

Never had you seen him that excited to see you, as he slammed the door behind him. He peaked around a bit before he saw you on the bed, waiting for him. A genuine smile appeared on his lips, pulling at that scar and making the skin around his eyes crinkle. “I miss you,” he muttered, strolling into the mini bedroom. You looked up and felt the bed dip down under his weight as he flopped down onto his stomach, “And I missed laying on a damn bed.” You laughed and looked down at him, putting your hand in his hair. It was soft and longer than he usually kept it. Your fingers ran through his locks and lightly played with the strands in a way that made him melt. This touch was bliss, utter bliss. And you hadn’t even gotten started yet. He looked over at you and put his hand on your hip, using his thumb to rub a small circle in your skin. It was intimate without even trying. 

“C’mere,” you motioned, leaning back onto the headboard. Your legs were slightly spread as you invited him to lay between them. He didn’t have to be told twice, practically tripping on himself to seat himself on his front and in between your legs. Toji was warm, as he wrapped his arms around your waist and rested his chin on your lower abdomen. 

Your hands tangled into his hair as you let out a small breath, “Two months and you’ll be out… I’m so excited,” you smiled, “And I was thinking, you know, Megumi wants a sister.” That caught his attention from dozing off, from your supple touch. Toji’s head perked up and his eyes trained on your face. He was listening. 

“I think a good present for me, and Megumi, could be giving him a sister,” you continued, looking away with a shy expression. It felt so right, being this close to him. You needed him in so many ways it was starting to burn again. The way his hands lingered on your hips, and as they slowly started to play with the hem of your pants. And how one hand trailed up the small of your back, making you shiver intently. 

“Right now, princess?” A low purr escaped his lips, as he slowly got up from his lying position to sit in front of you. There was an unmistakable lust building in his eyes, in a way you missed. Oh how you missed it, to hear him mutter filthy fucking things in your ear. And how you missed how he’d manhandle you like it was nothing, using you like the whore you were. You bit onto your bottom lip and nodded, letting your boyfriend do the rest of the work. You didn’t have to speak or tell him twice, as his lips found yours. A tightening feeling arose in your chest, along with a warm, arousing fire that was building in your pussy. His lips molded against yours and kissed you like this was the first time in a year, which it was. Sure, you gave him a quick peck every time you’d see him. But it was never enough. Nothing was enough. Not even kissing him would be enough to satiate the yearning that had been building in your body for months. Your hands made a home on his back, digging into his jumpsuit and then moving to ruffle his hair. 

He tasted like smoke, and like home. This was your Toji. The Toji that took hold and took charge, roughing you around and pushing you to your limits. His tongue slid into your mouth and you couldn’t suppress the noise that came along with it. It was pleasurable, how it rolled and explored your own mouth. It ran along your bottom lip and then touched your own tongue, which tried to battle against it. But nothing could win against his dominance. His hands went to work, unzipping the front of your jeans and slowly sliding them off, with help from you lifting your perfect hips. Of course, you were wet. You were easy to please with him. And it didn’t help you had been waiting for this for practically ever. Every moment you touched yourself in your shared bedroom you envisioned this. The first time having sex after Toji had been gone. You pictured how he’d finger fuck you, then how he’d tongue fuck you, before finally forcefully stretching you with his dick. His perfect dick, the dick you could never fully take in your mouth. The best dick you had ever fucked. You could practically feel it then, as he broke away from the kiss to pull down your underwear.

Your hands moved to cup his face, “No…” A pout formed on your lips, “Fuck me.. Please.. I want it .. so bad…” It was all you had to say before he was unzipping his jumper. He was built, more than before. Muscles flexing in his neck from seeing your dripping pussy on display. Toji stood to fully take it off, watching as you began to touch yourself. You couldn’t help it, you were needy for him. Your fingers played with your clit as you watched him, seeing his jaw clench from the small noises you made. 

“You’re a fucking tease, you know that?” He grunted, kicking off his jumpsuit and pulling down his underwear. There it was, the thing you had been waiting for. He was hard and throbbing for you, begging to nestle into your wetness and fuck you until you sobbed. Fushiguro crawled back onto the bed and grabbed your jaw with one of his hands, “Open your mouth.” He whispered, a seductive tone filling his voice. Your whine filled the air as you complied and he spat into your mouth. You missed being used like a little slut and being forced to do whatever he wanted, just for his own pleasure. 

He didn’t put you on your stomach as you thought he would, instead opting for a very close missionary. It was nice, to see his face as he slid into your warmth. Toji could’ve come then and there from it. How you were tight and how you were dripping for him. All after some kissing? You were so desperate it hurt. Your skin was on fire as he pressed his body against you and rested his face into the crook of your neck. Your boyfriend’s mouth wandered, biting the skin and sucking to leave you with a mark you could show off for days. Toji thrust into you, letting out a noise you hadn’t heard before. It was … a whimper. He was so horny for you that he was at the point of whimpering, how pathetic. 

“M… mm.. I’m gonna.. F-ffuck.. Make you a mommy, a pretty.. mm fuck.. A pretty little mo-mommy,” he groaned, beginning to thrust into your pussy at a good pace. You bit your lip and tried not to make too much noise, but it was hard when he was hitting that perfect spot. It was hot, how he fucked into you like he was in heat. You felt so good it was hard not to just fuck you until he came … and that’s what he was doing. You wanted Toji to make you a mommy and fill you up with his seed until you were bulging in your tummy. You wanted him to make you a pretty little mommy, a whore just for him. And you were. You would do anything for him if he asked.

“Pl-please,” you whined, hands wrapped around his shoulders as he humped into your cunt, “H…harder .. mm.. Sh-shitt..” It was hard not to cum when he was abusing your pretty little spot. You were almost there, and hearing him whimper from each squelch was making it harder not to unravel. You had never heard Toji make such desperate sounds until he was balls deep into your warmth and taking it all in. Then you did cum, gasping and grunting at the sensation. Your walls clenched as you felt the pleasure wash over your cunt a few times before filling the rest of your body in orgasmic waves of bliss. That was enough for him, crying out before letting his cum paint your pretty walls white. Ropes of cum covered your insides and filled you up, making it almost hard to breathe. 

It wasn’t uncomfortable, it was all you wanted. You loved that man and you wanted his kids. Even if he had some baggage, everyone did. You made a vow to love him and you were going to keep it. And so was he. Toji wasn’t going to lose you no matter what.

[ao3-rex1223]

𝐓𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐖𝐢𝐬𝐝𝐨𝐦 𝐈𝐕

Pairing: DBF!Leon x Fem!Reader

Tags: vaginal sex, creampie, breeding kink, cunnilingus,

Summary: Leon is called away to a mission in Spain before Christmas and you wait anxiously to see if he'll make it home in time.

“I’m going to try my hardest to finish in the next couple days,” Leon reassures you over the phone. He’s been away for two weeks on a mission in Spain since a rogue military faction started snooping around for remnants of Las Plagas. You pace Leon’s living room; ever since you two got together, you spend a lot of time waiting at his place. You tell your parents your ‘house sitting’ since they still don’t know you’re secretly dating him, though sometimes you wonder if your father at least suspects and isn’t saying anything. He never questions what you’re doing anymore. As soon as you say you’re going to Leon’s, he simply smiles and nods, never pressing you for further details. 

You flop onto his bed, twirling your hair in your fingers. “Think you’ll be home by Christmas?” you ask, hope rampant in your tone, the holiday only one week away. Your eyes glance around the bedroom you share with him more often than not, lingering on photos of you two placed in simple frames all over. You smile to yourself, feeling the warmth from the happy memories. 

“I wanna be there. I’ll do everything I can, baby.” 

“I’ll make sure your house is nice and Christmas-y for when you get home,” you promise, already envisioning so many decorations, it’ll be like Christmas threw up all over his house!  

I’m sure you will, sweetheart,” Leon replies with a chuckle. 

You hear gunshots ringing in the background, causing your heart to race wildly. “Leon!” you choke out, plagued with worry.

“I better go, baby girl,” Leon says suddenly. You can hear rustling, like he’s moving quickly. “Love you.”

“I love you, too, Leon. Please be careful!” you cry, tears pooling in your eyes. The line goes dead and, as always, you never know if it’s because he hung up or something awful happened. You won’t know until he calls again. It could be hours… It could be days. You take a deep breath and sigh, hands trembling as they hold your phone, eyes staring at the screen with Leon’s image and contact information still displayed. “Just come home,” you whisper to that digital picture. 

In an effort to distract yourself, you make a trip to the local hobby store to find some decorations for Leon’s house. Your mood lifts slightly as you wander the store, picking out every tantalizing Christmas decoration you see, filling the large shopping cart full before you’re even half way through the store. You glance down at your haul so far; reindeer, Santas, porcelain houses, lights, fake snow, candles, garland, nutcrackers, bows, stockings, ornaments, even a few gnomes dressed in holiday garb. You return your gaze to the aisles ahead…and then…in the distance, you spot an eight foot tall synthetic tree, decked out in colorful LED lights and your eyes shine like a small child padding down the stairs on Christmas morning to see all the presents that good old Saint Nick left for them. Beaming, you rush to the nearest employee and ask - no, beg - them to help you get one of those magnificent trees. The twenty something year old worker clearly suppresses an eye roll - not that you’ll let it get to you - and tells you he’ll ‘check the back’. After a few minutes, he returns and tells you there are no more of the trees you wanted in stock. “The closest we have in stock is a nine-footer,” he explains, his tone detached and apathetic, as though he'd explained the lack of stock a dozen times already today and couldn't muster any more effort.

Unwilling to let this Grinch steal your cheerful attitude, you gleefully exclaim, “Oh! I’ll take the nine-foot one, then!” You practically jump up and down. 

“Great,” the worker replies, coldly and turns on his heel, heading back to the stockroom. You bob your head and sing softly along with the Christmas music playing overhead. Finally, the worker returns with a flatbed carrying your beautiful tree. 

After struggling to get it into your car, eventually you strap it to the top and carefully drive back to Leon’s place with your massive purchase of holiday decorations. You link your phone to the stereo in his living room and start playing more Christmas music, along with which you are all too happy to sing. You immediately start putting up the nine foot tree. With tender, loving care, you add lights, ornaments, and tinsel. You string more lights along the mantle of his fireplace and garland on the banisters. The small statuettes you bought find places on his coffee table and end tables. 

Throughout the afternoon, you’re constantly checking your phone to see if Leon has called or at least texted. Nothing. You know he must be pinned down somewhere. He will always let you know he’s okay when he can. You clasp your hands together in a silent prayer for his safety. 

Meanwhile…

Leon forces himself to breathe quietly as militia men scour the decaying laboratory - the one that used to belong to Luis. He stays hidden behind a cabinet, clutching his handcannon in position to fire if needed, but he’s hoping to avoid a direct confrontation, not that it wouldn’t be the first time he’s faced down a hoard of enemies…and it wouldn’t be the first time in this location, either. Flashbacks from that day he came here to rescue Ashley Graham back in 2004 fill his mind. That was long before he met you, before you changed his whole goddamn life. Christ, he misses you. He misses the warmth of your body pressed against his; he misses your smile; he misses your laugh, your kisses, your warm, wet mouth around his-

“Hey! Check over there!” one of the men commands, pulling Leon from his reverie. Fuck, he thinks to himself as he hears heavy boots approaching his hiding spot. He cocks the powerful magnum, ready for a fight. Some big burly motherfucker pokes his ugly head around the corner of Leon’s hiding spot. He growls, bearing his sickly teeth which are quickly blown to pieces by the bullet fired from Leon’s weapon. Shit, can’t catch a break. Guess we’re doin’ this, Leon realizes. He pushes the large man’s limp body away and gets into position, ready to take out anyone else who dares come his way. Nothing, absolutely nothing, will keep him from returning to his girl. 

Back at Leon’s place, you decide to bake some cookies, hoping to have a nice treat for him when he gets back, as if you didn’t practically buy out the store’s entire stock of Christmas decorations. You inhale the warm, homey smell of the delicious dessert, soothing your weary heart, which still worries for Leon’s safety. You take a deep, centering breath, reminding yourself to trust in Leon’s abilities. 

Two days before Christmas, you finally hear from him. “Hey, baby girl. I'm coming home!”

You shriek with joy, jumping up and down in his living room. You spend the day meticulously cleaning the place, making sure it's perfect. 

And on Christmas Eve, near midnight, The door opens, his face marred by fatigue and restless nights, but still handsome as ever. The soft glow of the fireplace illuminates his features in a warm hue. “Baby…” he whispers, his voice barely loud enough to hear. Tears pool in your eyes, your nose tingling as emotion overwhelms you. You rush toward him and throw yourself into his embrace. 

Just like that, with the love of his life in his arms again, Leon feels whole once more. He crushes you against him, soaking in your warmth, soothing his aching soul. He buries his face in your neck, taking in your unique scent. It reminds him why he fights, why he continues to battle the evils of the world, because, as bad as things are, if he can make it a little better for you, it’s worth the pain and effort. For a while, you simply hold each other, the crackling of the fireplace and the quiet whispers of the cold winds outside the only soundtrack for your heartfelt reunion. When you finally part, he gently cups your face and presses his mouth to yours in a tender and passionate kiss. The softness of your lips is a balm for his wary heart. Your tongues slide together in perfect synchrony, a dance of love and devotion. 

You finally break for air, gazing with longing into each other's eyes. “I missed you so much, sweetheart,” Leon coos, his voice cracking slightly from the weight of all his emotions. 

“I missed you too, Leon,” you reply, pressing a delicate kiss to his nose. 

He smiles, his tense muscles finally relaxing after the long and grueling mission. “Hey,” he begins, his voice smooth like butter again, “got something for you…” He bends down to pick up a box with a bunch of holes in it. You look with curiosity at it, certain you hear it…whimpering? A giant red bow adorns the top. He holds the bottom while you lift the lid. Inside is a small, fluffy white puppy, looking up at you with innocent, golden eyes. It yawns, inadvertently showing off its sharp little teeth. Adorably ferocious, you think to yourself. 

“Leon…it’s…” You try to speak, but feel too choked up. Your hands carefully reach in to pick up the helpless ball of fur. Holding it in your arms, it sniffs you cautiously before licking your face, drawing out a genuine, joyful grin from your lips. 

“You remember me telling you about that dog that helped me out all those years ago?” Leon asks. After you nod in affirmation, gently scratching your new friend’s furry cheeks, he continues, “I found him again. Had a litter of pups around. This one was the runt; he wouldn’t do well on his own in the wild, so I brought him home. Thought he could keep you company while I’m away. Merry Christmas, baby.”

Tears fall down your face at the thoughtful gift. “Oh Leon! I love him!” you exclaim, kissing him deeply once again, your soft pup nestled between the two of you. 

After settling the pup - who you decide to name Buddy - into his new home, you and Leon share a bottle of champagne to celebrate his safe return. You clink your crystal glasses and snuggle together on the couch while Buddy snores softly, fast asleep on the recliner. 

Hearts yearning to share the most intimate of connections, Leon lifts you into his arms, bridal style, and carries you to the bedroom, the champagne glasses long since drained of their titular contents. He lays you on the bed with infinite gentleness and crawls over the top of you. He kisses your lips then peppers kisses all along your cheeks and jaw. He pecks a few more just below your ear before whispering, “I love you so much baby. More than anything. I fucking need you.”

You moan softly, cunt getting slippery with your essence, arousal growing, unobstructed. “Leon…I need you, too. I love you!” Tears pool in your eyes again as your feelings for him overwhelm you, yet again. 

He hums his approval at your response, hand gently lifting your shirt, grazing your perfect breasts as he removes it entirely. He growls hungrily as his eyes take in the plush mounds. “Missed these two, as well,” he adds with a smirk and kisses both breasts before taking one hardened bud into his mouth. 

Your teeth take your lower lip between them, biting gently as pleasure begins to fill you, originating from the gentle nibbles on your tits. You can feel his cock hardening, throbbing against your thigh through his pants. He sucks on the fat of your breasts, definitely intending to leave hickies there. Your hands reach down to tug at his shirt. His mouth releases you for mere seconds, long enough to whip his shirt off and throw it across the room. He continues to kiss his way down your taught stomach. His hands grab the waistband of your sweatpants and panties, pulling them down and off, effortlessly. “My Christmas feast…” Leon growls and pushes your legs apart. His thumbs part your wet folds and he looks hungrily at your glistening, pink sex. He licks his lips before diving in, hot, open mouthed kisses claiming your neglected pussy. Your hips roll in time with his expert licks, angling your clit toward his tongue. He closes his lips around your sensitive bundle of nerves, sucking on it like it’s a rare delicacy. Your abs tighten as your body begins to respond on its own, your back arching hard and your head digging into the bed. Your hands death grip the sheets, nails nearly cutting through the fabric, a mind numbing climax imminent. 

“Leon! I’m cumming! Fuck! I’m cumming!” you cry out, the pleasure worth the wait you had to endure while he was gone. Orgasm ripping through you, he pins you in place with his strong arms while he continues to lick you though your waves of euphoria. As you pant, gasping for air, he kicks off his pants and gives his aching dick a few strokes, precum leaking from the tip. He pushes your legs apart again, which practically fall open whenever he looks at them. 

“Can’t wait to be inside you again, sweetheart. Not at home until I feel your perfect cunt wrapped around my shaft,” He guides his throbbing cock toward your willing entrance, notching the tip past your eager barrier. He drops onto his hands above you, arms caging you in as he slides further inside, the familiar sensation of his thick length filling your tight channel and kissing the entrance to your womb like a warm embrace, a feeling of completeness. “Fuck…you’re so goddamn tight, baby girl. Never gonna get tired of this,” Leon purrs. His mouth connects with yours once more, pouring all of his pent up love and passion into the heated kiss. With tender thrusts, he begins to move inside you. Your eyes roll back in your head as his cock rubs your g-spot, teasingly slow. You moan and whimper, begging for more with incoherent babbles. “Yeah, baby girl. You want more? Want me to put a baby in you, honey?” His mouth returns to your neck, licking and sucking, his own arousal and need growing beyond his control. 

His words make you arch into him even more, the thought of him impregnating you is once again a potent aphrodisiac. “Yes! Please! God, I want it so bad!”

He groans at your impassioned affirmation. He begins snapping his hips forward hard, your tantalizing breasts jiggling with each movement. He withdraws nearly completely out before slamming back inside you again, driven by primal instinct, an innate desire - no, a need - to breed you, to watch your belly swell with his child, to claim you in every way imaginable. He laces your fingers together, pressing them gently into the mattress. His rhythm is frenzied and irregular as he begins chasing his own high. As you cum a second time, you tense, hard, then cry out as your walls collapse on his dick, sucking him in deeper. With a guttural, rough moan, Leon thrusts into you one final time, filling you with his hot, sticky seed. For a long time, he simply remains buried inside you, unwilling to sever the connection just yet. He pulls you with him as he rolls off of you, deciding to keep himself warm inside your delicious heat for the night. “Need you to cockwarm me, baby girl. Been too damn long.”

Your pussy quivers weakly as the last remnants of your orgasm trickle out of you. “Always, Leon. Merry Christmas, baby,” you coo softly, running your fingers tenderly through his hair. 

He closes his eyes as you caress his scalp and rub it gently. “Merry Christmas, sweetheart,” he replies, wrapping his arms tightly around you, pulling you close as he begins drifting off to sleep, comfortable and happy for the first time since he left for the mission to Spain. 

[healing-is-cool]

Hi!

It’s been so long, way too long.

Last year my father was murdered. In the worst way a person can leave Earth. In the kind of horrible way that makes headlines. I was just starting college too, and before I knew it, I was in the middle of everyday trips to the prosecutor's office while trying to memorize legal concepts I had never heard of before while working a full-time job. I couldn't talk about it. I hadn't even processed it. I was just living on autopilot, and honestly, I don't even know how I managed.

A few months later, the anger came. I didn't want to know shit about healing. What for? Everything seemed so pointless. A lie to make us feel less broken in the meantime. Writing about hope and faith felt like lying, hypocrisy.

Fast forward to today, as per usual, I get way too emotional during the holidays. I realized that... it is what it is. I can't change what happened. And I can't change how I reacted, closing off, just existing and driving people away. I guess sometimes healing is just about this, slowing down, allowing yourself to feel what you need to feel. To survive. To know that yes, there are awful things in life that can happen at any minute, but you can't let that fear prevent you from living, from trying. And I fucking missed writing so much, so there’s that too.

I’m truly sorry for disappearing, for all the messages I haven’t replied to, to all the people worried for me, especially to those I was close to.

[imagines--galore]

hiii, can you do #5 with peter pensive and fluff? thank you!!

Summary: Despite the horrors you had face as children, it was a miracle that you and Peter had found one another at such a young age and had continued to cling to one another through it all. But as you grow older, new challenges are sure to come. And fighting a war in another world puts your love for Peter, and his love for you, to the test. Pairing: Peter Pevensie x Reader Rating || Genres || Warnings: T. Romance. Hurt/Comfort. A/N: Love me some insecurities. They're easy to get rid of in prompts and fics : P Anywho! I hope you enjoy!

For as long as you could remember it had always been you and Peter. Peter and you. Neither of you were without the other for long. And given how your fathers were friends, it didn't take long for them to begin joking around that perhaps you both would marry when you grew up.

And while the concept of marriage was something neither of you could grasp given how young you were, it seemed you and Peter both understood that the bond the two of you had was deeper.

Much deeper then that shared between two friends.

Even at such a young age.

And so over the years, nothing could separate you.

Not when you both went to different boarding schools. Not when you moved a few blocks away from his house. Not when your fathers went away to fight. Not when the bombings began. Not when you were sent to the countryside and far away from each other.

Not even when he returned with a new light in his eyes and tales of a land called Narnia.

Tales of another world in a wardrobe. Tales of talking animals, a witch and magic, Aslan the lion and Peter being king.

And though you did not understand most of it, you believed him. Peter had never lied to you before, why would he start to do so now. And there was something different about him. Then again there was something different about all of them. While it was the war that had effected you so much, for the Pevensie siblings it was the entire life they had lived in Narnia.

And while a small part inside you wished you could see this majestic world for yourself, it was not to be. Besides the war had ended and you would all be going back to school soon.

However, what you had not been expecting, was to be whisked away to the very place Peter and his siblings had told you about.

You had stood in utter awe and disbelief as you stared at the area where the train had been a few moments ago.

While Susan, Edmund and Lucy had rushed to play into the ever-blue water of the sea you stayed where you were, frozen. Peter had taken your hand and, smiling, had led you down the beach and into the water.

And though you did not understand your purpose in this strange new world, you did what you had always done best.

You stood by Peter.

You stood by him when he and his siblings realized what had happened when they had suddenly disappeared. How Narnia had fallen. And was at war again. There was another who would be king instead of Peter.

You saw how it effected Peter and it broke your heart.

Though it had never been said, you knew your heart belonged to him since you were children. And though Peter had reciprocated those feelings, since his first trip to Narnia, he had been pulling back from you.

As if there was an invisible wall between the both of you.

Though now, that you were in Narnia with him, you hoped it would bring you two closer.

However it was the exact opposite. He was obsessed with the idea of taking charge once more. Of bringing back the old Narnia. Of showing that he was still King.

Despite there already being a potential candidate in Prince Caspian.

And of course, when he was not able to meet his own expectations who did he lash out on?

You.

You were just there. You were only trying to help.

To talk to him after the failed attempt to storm the palace and take out Miraz. After he had snapped at Caspian you had walked after Peter, trying to talk to him. To ease his mind.

But then he had snapped at you.

"I don't need your help Y/n. I never needed you. Not here. Not back home. So stop it! Stop following after me and just leave. You don't belong here!"

Your insides had turned to ice. He had walked away without a second glance, leaving you to drop to your knees.

Thankfully Susan was there to catch you. But that was all she could do. She had to tend to other matters, such as the almost return of Jadis the White Witch. And during the confusion that followed, you had slipped out of Aslan's How and into the forest.

You were not needed here in Narnia.

Peter didn't need you.

No one did.

Tears blurred your vision and you stumbled through the trees as you fell to the ground. For awhile you didn't move, sobbing your heart out in your arms and allowing yourself to feel. It was a good while later, when your tears had dried that you finally turned on your back. But you didn't get up and simply laid there staring up at the trees. You didn't know how long you laid there, what you did know was that someone or something had come to rest beside you.

Your head turned to see a majestic yet terrifying figure of a lion sitting beside you.

"Aslan?" You whispered in disbelief, sitting up as you stared at the Lion. He chuckled deep and low. "I take it your friends told you all about me." Still a little shocked you gave a small nod. "Lucy did. And......Peter." The thought of him had your heart giving a painful twinge in your chest as you furiously brushed away the tears.

"Why do you cry dear one?" He asked, in a voice so gentle and kind that you burst into tears all over again. And you couldn't help it, couldn't help yourself as you threw your arms against his soft mane and told him the whole story.

Once you were bereft of tears, and your heart was considerably lighter, you pulled away from Aslan, only to avert your gaze, feeling a little ashamed of your outburst.

"There is no need to feel ashamed of letting out your emotions dear one." He comforted you once more. "We must all do so lest we allow them to fester inside and become something sinister." You nodded, wiping the tear stains from your cheeks.

"Yes, you're right. But what shall I do now? I am not needed here." You whispered, once again feeling all the more lost. Aslan chuckled. "I would not have called you here if I didn't think you were needed Y/n." His words caused you to look up at him in surprise. You were just about to voice it too when you heard your name being called out.

Instantly you tensed. It was Peter.

He was calling your name in the distant as he looked for you.

But you didn't want to go to him.

Not when he had hurt you so much.

"He shall not find you unless you wish to be found." Once again Aslan reassured you to which you gave him a small smile in thanks. You continued to listen to Peter, calling your name and apologizing as he cut through the brush.

Finally, he appeared in the clearing that you occupied with Aslan. He couldn't see either of you, but you could see him.

You watched as he gazed around in despair before shouting your name once more. Receiving no response, Peter seemed to loose whatever hope he had left and dropped to his knees.

"Y/n. Please come back! I'm sorry! I'm sorry I was so horrible to you! You didn't deserve it. You were just trying to help." The words were spoken in a low voice, but were loud enough for you to hear.

Despite your anger and sadness, you glanced in Aslan's direction. He gave you an encouraging nod to which you heaved a sigh and stood.

Peter had his face buried in his hands, so he didn't hear you approach. Reaching out you placed a hand on his shoulder. He instantly looked up. Where his eyes had been full of despair, they were replaced with utter joy at the sight of you.

He cried out your name, before embracing you so tight you could hardly breath. You barely returned the gesture and he felt it. A sadness overtook his happiness and he pulled back.

"I hurt you? Didn't I?"

You gave a silent nod.

"I'm sorry." He gazed at you with pleading eyes. You gave him another silent nod before walking past him to return to Aslan's How.

You had accepted his apology, but it would take some time for you to forgive him completely.

                                         ————————–

Over the years since you had known Peter you had exchanged a few kisses here and there.

There was that first time when you were just children and had been curious about what a kiss was. So you had closed your eyes, and bumped your lips against his.

It was awkward and childish, but you both discovered it wasn't all that bad.

The second time you had kissed was just before you had been separated by the war. The night before you got on your respective trains to the countryside, you and Peter had met under your bedroom window. He had come to say goodbye and you had clung to him, afraid that this would be the last time you would see him. There was no telling if even the countryside would remain safe from the armies.

That night was the first time you told him you loved him.

And he had returned the sentiment before kissing you.

You had kissed him back, before reluctantly watching him go.

The third time you had kissed was when the both of you met once again. It had been full of joy and sheer happiness. And since there was an audience nearby it had been short and sweet.

You had though that perhaps what had always simmered under the surface between you and Peter would come to the forefront since your reunion. But that dream was shattered when he had begun to pull back from you. Those fleeting moments took a backseat as you fought to stay in Peter's life without overstepping. A herculean task since Peter had been rather quick to anger the past few months.

Of course all your hard work vanished in that one moment of despair when Peter had yelled at you. You understood he was under a lot of pressure, but you had only been trying to help. And given the danger everyone was in, it would seem whatever involved you and Peter would have to wait until the war was over.

Or so you thought.

Your heart was in your throat as you raced through the How. It was a good thing your feet knew where you were supposed to go, because the way your mind was stuck on the conversation you had just had with Lucy, it was a miracle you even reached your destination.

Peter.

Miraz.

Single-combat.

Bursting through the door of the room Peter was sharing with Edmund you skidded to a halt. Chest heaving, hair in utter disarray and an almost wild look in your eyes you very nearly screamed at your best friend.

"Have you lost your senses completely?"

Both Peter and Edmund looked up from where they had been suiting up for the battle ahead. Edmund pursed his lips, glancing in his brother's direction before picking up his sword and quickly walked out of the room. You barely noticed as he walked past, hardly looked away from Peter as the door shut behind him leaving the both of you alone.

Peter inhaled deeply before exhaling softly. "It is the only way to ensure as little bloodshed as possible." He stated, pulling at the straps of his gauntlets to make sure they were as tight as they could be. "Everyone wants this war to be over and this is the quickest way to-" But you cut him off.

"I don't care about that! What I care about is that my best friend has offered to fight a man, twice his age and twice as experienced, in single combat." You felt the sting of tears behind your eyes but you blinked them away. Peter raised an eyebrow at you. "I can assure you Y/n, I'm just as experienced as him, if not more." Standing up he smiled softly at you. "You should have faith in my abilities."

You shook your head. "I'm not doubting your abilities Peter. Its just....." You trailed off, your gaze locking with his. It was then that you realized that he was just as afraid of what lay ahead. Just as you were.

There was a beat of silence where neither of you moved or spoke. The distance of a few feet between you seemed to stretch on as you tried your best to not let your mind wander to the worst possible scenario.

One that had Peter loosing and being kil-

"I don't want you to die."

The words were barely above a whisper, and yet they seemed to echo all around the both of you. Peter's expression shifted to a soft look, one that he reserved for his youngest sister and you. "It won't come to that-" He tried to reassure you but you quickly shook your head as you stepped forward to grasp his hand between both of your own.

"No, Peter. You have to promise me. Promise me you won't die." Your voice was desperate, your eyes filled with a despair that should never be seen in the eyes of a child. Because that was what you were, what you both were.

Children, fighting in a war that wasn't even yours. And yet both of you wanted to help those in danger. Help them get their home back.

"I ca-I can't loose you Peter. Please. Please say you won't die." Your words were beginning to merge together, your voice sounding breathless as you struggled to convey the depth of your fear to him. To show him just how much you meant to him.

And it was a testament to your being friends for years that Peter was able to understand you completely and was able to determine what was it you needed in that moment to calm you down.

You were still whispering nonsensically as his head leaned down to close whatever distance was left between you. But the moment his lips brushed against your own, you fell silent. Your tears stilled, your eyes fluttered shut and you returned the kiss just as fiercely as it was given.

Fourth.

This was your fourth kiss. And you hoped and prayed with all your heart that it would be not your last.

Your hands were still clasping one of his between your bodies. His other hand came to rest against your cheek, brushing the soft skin with his thumb. Chaste and innocent though it was, there was no denying the passion and sheer devotion that was evident in the way he gazed at you when he pulled back. Your own eyes shone with love for the boy in front of you. Sighing softly, you lifted one hand to gently run your fingers through his hair, pushing some of the loose strands back so they wouldn't get in his eyes.

"I always thought it was a blessing that we were both so young when the war started back home." You spoke softly. "Because I knew that you would enlist and I would have to say goodbye to you." You knew how much he had wanted to enlist, how much he hated not being of age. And while you had been a good friend and reassured him, secretly you had been glad because them being young meant that you both were safe. As much as you could be.

A small laugh fell from your lips, as your fingers slowly stroked along his face, mesmerized by the color of his eyes as Peter all but leaned into your affection. "Yet here were are, in another world, and I'm doing the exact thing I was so afraid of doing back in England." He shook his head, leaning forward to press his forehead against yours, noses brushing as he did.

"This isn't a goodbye Y/n." He whispered gently, hoping to ease your worry. "You will be right there with me, and knowing that will give me the strength I need to defeat Miraz."

He continued. "I know everyone thinks we're to young for it, but I do love you Y/n, and I wan-" "I love you too." He stopped talking at your confession, prompting you to smile. "I know we've already told each other that, but I guess this is sort of like a promise we're making."

A determined gleam came over your eyes as you looked at him. "To survive this war together, and have our own happily ever after."

He chuckled at your choice of words. "Just like in those fairy tales you love so much."

"Well fairy tales usually have a prince, a princess, a villain and strange creatures don't they?" You countered, prompting him to grin.

"Well we have a villain, and we do have many many strange creatures, centaurs, fauns, dwarves, talking animals." He hummed in thought. "Which leaves us with the prince and princess."

You shrugged. "Well we have a King." You gestured towards him and he nodded. "True, but a King is nothing without his Queen." He watched with a grin on his face as a blush stole across your cheeks, and you finally looked away from him. Clearing your throat you swallowed. "Well I'm sure you had plenty of options when you were here last."

Though you knew what he had meant to say, you still couldn't help but tease him. It was just how things were between the two of you. He nodded. "I did, but I never gave it much thought. Because I never forgot you."

Sighing you shook your head at his attempt to win you over further, which you had to admit was happening. Your arms came up to wrap around his shoulders as you settled your head in the crook of his neck. Peter returned the embrace, burying his nose in your hair and basking in your presence.

Neither of you were ready to let go, and you didn't for a long time. A soft knock and Edmund calling out to the both of you was what finally broke the spell and you stepped away from each other. Though not completely. Reaching behind Peter, you picked up his helmet, the last of his armor piece and place it on his head.

There were no tears in your eyes now, only sheer determination as you fixed him with a look. "Come back to me."

He raised your hand to his lips, brushing them against your knuckles. "I promise."

Hand in hand, you both stepped out of the room ready to face whatever challenge lay before you.

Together.

[bluecanvasshoe]

Runaway

Part two of Arthur Morgan & teen!reader

Warnings: BIGGGGG Rdr2 spoilers, mentions of racism, after the gang gets split up, big time jump, no beta reader, i tried to be historically accurate!!!, descriptions of a panic attack

Summary: It's been a few years since the gang split up. You don't know anyones whereabouts, nor do you know if they're alive or not. But in your new, mundane life, you find a lead to your past. (PS: the most of the story is snippets of the gang splitting.)

AN: sorry this took so long.......... stuff is happening in my life and i found this in my drafts while looking for a distraction. i also didnt know if this was good or not, and idk if u guys would like the big change in the story but i hope u guys like this!!!

word count: 1.9k

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

------

Beaver Hollow sucks. Everything sucks. Honestly, maybe this entire gang sucks.

Dutch sent you two out, acting as messengers for Eagle flies and his father. Neither of you agreed that what Dutch was doing would benefit their tribe, but Eagle Flies was determined. His courage, although strong, blinded him.

After you and Arthur had gone on that fishing trip not long ago, you’ve found yourself hanging around him more often; not that he minded. Naturally, you two started talking. You opened up about your past before the gang, and he told stories of his youth that hadn’t already been shared around the campfire.

However, this came with some downsides.

You and Arthur had an argument the other day. Well, you tried to have an argument, and Arthur listened.

You and Arthur went hunting this time. The sun was setting, and crickets emerged along with god-awful amounts of mosquitoes. After countless tries at Arthur’s bow and arrow you grew more and more frustrated. Turns out, it’s not as easy as pull and release. Because of the added factors of your now seemingly constant anger and the frustration of each failed attempt, you blew up at Arthur.

This included the usual, “people are worried; Dutch is insane; do something,” pleas coming from you, and Arthur’s “i know, kid; kid, I know; we’re trying our best; keep it down the camp’s gonna hear,” replies.

You went to bed that night fuming. ’We’re doing our best’? Come on! After all that’s happened, the best is far from the current situation of the gang. He’s just lying through his teeth, and for what? 

You can take the truth.

The path below you two crunched as gravel dug deeper into the earth, your horses occasionally huffing as they walked along the trail. Tall, top-heavy trees were scattered amongst pine, birds chirping and singing on sturdy branches. Wildflowers that sprouted in vibrant shades of orange and purple were scattered along the sides of the path, mingling with short grass that wasn’t entirely green, yellowing as the year grew old. 

Critters, mainly squirrels or chipmunks, ran across the beaten path. It gave both of you quite the scare as you rode along, not wishing to kill the poor creatures for no inherent reason. The air was chilly, but not cold. It wasn’t warm, but it was stuffy. From the ridge, you could see more trees separated by a shimmering lake in the distance, which was surrounded by… more trees.

“It’s been a weird few days,” Arthur spoke up, his voice gravelly, rough. He sounded hesitant and almost awkward, like he was trying to talk, but couldn’t find a good starter. 

You cleared your throat, “Yeah. Do you… is Dutch… Does this sorta thing happen often?” you asked vaguely, glancing at Arthur in your peripheral vision. 

“What do you mean?

“...This. Y’know the runnin’ east, and… people dyin’. It’s makin’ me worried, Arthur.” 

Arthur fell into a short, thoughtful silence, disrupted by a harsh cough to the side. He cleared his throat and looked forward again, reaching ahead to pat his horse on the neck. “This ain’t happened before. Lots of folks are worried, but… We’ll do what we can, kid, just try to stay strong.” He replied, using the same excuse he’d use for every other person at camp.

You hesitated. The gang had been doing what they could. They had for a long time, but it only seemed to kill people. Dutch lead the gang with determination, mowing down anyone standing between him and his unachievable goals. These decisions, however, came with sacrifices. Sacrifices that stood behind him, praised his actions and followed his lead like a lamb, because they wouldn’t be able to do such a thing if it weren’t for him. Sacrifices that never stood in his way. Sacrifices that were lucky to have a grave, to be spoken of afterwards.

What if you became one of them?

“But Dutch, he- he made these choices, and… I don’t… he’s not right in the mind,” You reasoned in the nicest way possible, praying that the man beside you wouldn’t be ticked off by your remark. Judging by his opinions on the gang’s recent affairs, though, you don’t think he will.

Arthur, again, was silent. You took this as an opportunity to continue.

“I’m scared, Arthur. I’m really scared.” God, that’s not how you wanted to sound. Saying those words sounded like a plea, like you were a child. But what you said was partly how you felt, and maybe honesty was what was needed at the moment. Anxiousness and anger bubbled under your skin, the seeds of upcoming dread sprouting from when they were sown at the Blackwater robbery. “It- this ain’t normal. This is bad, Arthur, there must be somethin’ we can do.”

“I know, trust me, and I wish there was,” Arthur sighed, adjusting his gambler hat. “I’d be lyin’ if I said I weren’t scared, too. You shouldn’t have to deal with this. It ain’t fair to you; you’re just a kid.” He finished, neither agreeing or disagreeing with your previous statements. “But I’m… look, we’re all doin’ our best.”

Now, you know that’s true. You’re not stupid; but really? I mean, the gang had been on the run for months. So many people have died, and now Arthur’s saying that’s the best that they could do? Bullshit. Frustration simmered in your chest, like an urge that needed to be quelled. It itched and burned, your jaw tensing as he spoke.

“I know, but that’s- we wouldn’t be here if we were doin’ our best, I mean, God, come on, so many folks are dead, and it ain’t gettin’ better-” “Kid, please-” “and people are worried! People have died, Arthur, and Dutch won’t give up. Please, Arthur, just listen-” “I am listenin’, but-” “nothin’s getting better, people are scared, and- and what’s wrong with you? You ain’t been actin’ like you usually do, people are worried-” “That’s enough. We’ve already discussed this,” Arthur interrupted, his voice serious and hardened. It cut through the sound of birds chirping, the sound blurring into the background as your stomach practically dropped. Arthur never spoke to you in that way, meaning you likely crossed a line; with the tensions and questions coming from the members of the gang, it’s not surprising he was a little fed up.

You took a deep breath, glancing at him before looking forward once again. “I just- Arthur, we’re worried. We wanna know what’s wrong.”

The two of you fell into silence once more. This time, though, the sound of birds, leaves, or wind didn’t fill it.

“Kid, look, this isn’t your business. You shouldn’t be the one worried about this stuff, this ain’t what you should be spendin’ your time on.”

“Arthur, please-” “No, and I ain’t gonna say it again.”

So that was that.

In the back of your mind, something screamed that you had to do something, anything. But Dutch was so on edge, and after Micah did who knows what with the dog, Cain? You’re a little scared to step out of line.

But when Molly was shot by Ms. Grimshaw, you screamed at her. Then, when everyone chose sides, you went with Arthur. 

Dutch stood at one side of the camp, shouting at Arthur with Micah by his side. With him stood Micah and Javier, though the latter was aiming his gun towards the hazy, darkening sky. You, despite the fact that the others told you to go, stood with Arthur, Sadie, John and Charles. Without a gun to aim at the others, you simply stayed to show who your loyalty lay with. 

And then the men came.

The law.

You ran, and you ran hard. But horses were no match for a scrawny teenager's legs, and you didn’t get far before a lawman tackled you down. 

At the moment, the only thing running through your head is that this has got to be a nightmare. No, this is a nightmare. Your vision almost seemed to darken, everything around you growing suffocatingly close. The lawman’s shouting drowned in the dark abyss of tree shadows and your cotton filled ears. Your heart beat out of your chest, and in the back of your mind, you knew that this was happening. That this isn’t a nightmare. 

They dragged you away kicking and screaming, away to the shit filled streets and swampy air of Saint Denis. You could’ve sworn you’d seen John before you were taken away from the gang’s campgrounds.

Now, your life lay in the biassed hands of the law, and not a mentally ill middle aged man and the snake in his ear. You thought that you would’ve been sent to the gallows without another thought, but despite being an ‘outlaw’, you never truly committed crimes. At least, no one saw you commit your crimes. Therefore, the law deemed you a kidnapped child in need of a ‘civil’ way of life.

So, you were taken to what they called the “orphan trains”. An ominous thing that you were not thrilled for. They were trains that’d take orphaned kids from big cities to the lonely midwest, a place you were so unfortunately familiar with.

-----

It had been years.

Years of helping the woman you were supposed to find maternal collect eggs, of tilling crops, of scrubbing dishes with rowdy, annoying kids you were meant to call your siblings. Of birthdays past without the gang; and now, you were almost an adult.

But one day, your foster dad left his newspaper on the dining table, a mistake he would regret later. The newspaper said something that, after months of mundane and domestic boredom, piqued your interest.

Morning light streamed through the lacy curtains of the kitchen’s windows, the wood of the house creaking under the pressure of the wind. 

Your foster dad, David, was reading the daily news, an ankle on his knee as he went about his morning routine while you were sitting at the dining table quietly. Your foster mother, Anne, was washing dishes from breakfast when one of the boys you’d been living with barged through the door of the house.

The woman startled, dropping a dish into the water. “Jeremy!” Anne scolded, looking at the boy.

“I think one of the horses is having a baby!” he shouted, two of the other kids following him and saying things along the lines of ‘hurry up, come on!’ at the man and woman. David shot up from his seat and Anne dropped what she was doing, telling you amongst the chaos to finish up the dishes as she left the house.

You stood from your seat, watching everyone rush out with slight annoyance. When the door shut, you pushed out your chair, the wood making a screeching sound as it slid across the hardwood floors. Standing up, you walked over the creaky wood to David’s newspaper that sat on the dining table. 

It was full of boring deals and uninteresting stories, but one stuck out. It was about an underground fighting ring, which wouldn’t have caught your eye if it weren’t for the witness statements.

One in particular said some very distasteful things about a man of mixed race, but the summary was that he was Indigenous and African-American.

Indigenous and African-American.

You only know one man who is of those two ethnicities. Granted, you don’t know many people; but still, Indigenous, African American, and an outlaw? Come on.

The second after you read that passage, you made a plan. You’d leave at the dead of night, as soon as possible. Maybe it’s not solid, nor is it well thought through, but there’s no time for that. That night, you pack your things as light as possible.

And then, you finally start your journey back to Saint Denis.

[hopelessromantic5]

Part 2 of ghost-visit merthur Drabble.

Magic reveal included.

The blonde studied his manservant, as he was in the habit of doing, lately. Merlin was nervous and perhaps even…scared?

What possible reason could Merlin have to fear him?

“I’m not going to like this, am I?” Arthur did not need an answer, he already knew that he wouldn’t.

“Maybe-“ Merlin stopped and started again. “It might be easier if I show you.” He was quiet, only illuminated by the light coming into the princes chambers from the corridor.

Arthur honestly didn’t have any idea what was about to happen.

When it was over, he felt like an idiot for not seeing it sooner.

The first thing Merlin did was cup his palms together, in front of his chest, eyes closed, as if he were praying.

He, all at once, opened his hands and his eyes, revealing a glowing blue butterfly, Arthur focused on it only for a heartbeat, gasping at the sight.

Then he caught Merlin’s own gaze, blue eyes turned golden like the heat of the sun, shining brighter than any fire Arthur had ever seen.

The Prince felt many things. Confusion and shame and anger, at himself, at Merlin, at his father.

But surprisingly, Arthur felt no fear. He didn’t get that sickening drop in his stomach that normally occurred when confronted with magic.

He had the quick thought that maybe it was because the magic was always being used by people who wanted him dead.

Instead of that unbearable chill in the air, Merlin’s magic left Arthur feeling like he’d just been out training in the summer. He felt renewed, recharged.

When Merlin let the butterfly disappear into the room, brightening the space about a foot in either direction of its flapping wings, his eyes faded back to their stormy blue, rainclouds over the ocean.

Arthur was speechless.

A million scenes over the past few years played through his mind’s eye with this new knowledge now secured. Everything seemed to make a little more sense. The prince never being able to find Merlin in times of trouble, his manservant always disappearing and hiding behind trees while bandits were being tripped by roots that weren’t there before, felled by branches falling at the perfect time. Victories being won against foes that Arthur had no recollection of defeating.

Arthur should be dead ten times over, probably. If not for the man who stood before him. If not for magic.

He couldn’t find words for a long time.

Merlin did not rush him.

He just stood silently, waiting for whatever fate he assumed was awaiting him. Arthur could only imagine the worst case scenarios playing through his manservant’s mind and it was enough to make him sick.

Finally after taking a deep breath into his lungs, the prince spoke.

“I understand.”

Merlin blinked his eyes three times, an instinct in Arthur nearly verbalized that he was akin to an owl, he thought better of it.

“You-you what?”

“I understand why you didn’t tell me. I can only assume this is not a fact that you share with many people, let alone…you know, me.” Arthur’s nerves were beginning to catch up to him. He wasn’t used to being so bare and unguarded, and certainly not in front of Merlin.

But another fact he was settling upon him was that Merlin had the upper hand here. He’d possibly always had it, from that very first day. Yet, even when Merlin was his most fed up, his most aggravated with Arthur, even at times when they refused to speak to each other out of pure stubbornness, Merlin never turned on him. Never even used his magic to give Arthur a good smack over the head (that he probably deserved).

Even when Merlin had to watch his own people die on the pyre, he never turned on Arthur.

Not even when he learned what Arthur did that awful day. A quiet Druid camp drowned in the screams of the innocent because he was too much of a coward to stand up to his father, and not enough of a Prince to get his knights to obey his orders of sparing the children. Even though, he failed.

Merlin never lost faith in him. The prince still sees it, even now.

“You’re not…angry?” This voice was small compared to his usual boisterous demeanor.

“I am angry.” Arthur nodded. “But only at our circumstances. If I were not here and you were not there, none of this would be as difficult as it is.”

“You must know,” Merlin whispered. “I’ve only ever used it to help you. To ensure that you and this kingdom were safe.” The prince saw him swallow, one of his many tells. Merlin is nervous. “Arthur, I told you this once before, but back home I was…lost. I had all of this pent up energy and nowhere to put it down, I felt I had no true purpose there. I’ve since learned many things that all led me to one conclusion. I’m supposed to be here, at your side. To make sure you actually survive long enough to ascend the throne-“

Arthur almost interjected to say he didn’t need protecting but clamped his mouth shut because he knew, now, that wasn’t necessarily true, as much as he hated to admit it.

“-but also because…Well,” Merlin cleared his throat, Arthur took a moment to wonder what he was about to say that was causing him to be so antsy. “I do not think I could leave, even if you ordered me to go. I…I think being away from you would probably rip me apart.” He laughed a humorless, pitiful laugh and was looking down at feet. Arthur watched a tear fall from his eyes like the first raindrop and land on the stone floor.

“I could never send you away.” Arthur shook his head. “You’re just as necessary to this kingdom’s survival as I am.”

Merlin audibly gasped, Arthur went on as if he didn’t hear it.

“I want Camelot to be…I don’t know, good, for lack of a better word. I want it to be welcoming and bright and full of life. Not plagued with death and decay and heartache. I do not want even our poorest citizens to have to wonder what they will eat in the winter. I don’t want another person stepping foot into this kingdom and immediately witnessing a beheading, or a pyre being lit. That is not the kind of place I wish to govern. All I can do is my best, but I need you here. I need you with me. I only ever considered that I could truly change the way things are, when,” he took a heavy breath, “when I realized that you actually believed in me. That you, an insubordinate, treasonous, outsider that had absolutely no reason to ever think such things, you actually had faith that I could do it. And since that day, your faith has been what keeps me going. So you can’t-“

Arthur hadn’t dared to watch Merlin while he spilled his messy heart all over the room. The first shining of the sun was rising over the horizon and soon, they would have to face each other in the daylight.

“You can’t leave, okay?”

The prince walked further into his chambers as he spoke, away from the door, lest any of the guards overhear their conversation.

“That may be selfish of me to request, knowing that you are constantly in danger here. But I am also in a position where I can make sure that you never face the hands of my father. I would never let him hurt you, you know that, right?”

A chuckle was heard from where Merlin still stood behind him,

“I do now.” It was emotional and ridiculous but Arthur was relieved. That Merlin was still Merlin.

“Good.” The prince sighed. “We can discuss this more tomorrow. You can tell me everything I’ve, apparently, missed.”

“Absolutely, sire.”

Arthur turned after a few moments of silence and Merlin was still standing there, in the middle of the room.

“Merlin?”

“Yes, sire?”

“Is there something else you wanted to say?” The prince couldn’t help the smile that was creeping up his face.

“Um…” The raven boy cleared his throat, again. Looking unsure, with more light in the room, Arthur could see his brows pinched. “No, no. Nothing we can’t discuss tomorrow.”

“You’re sure?” At this point Arthur was wondering if either he or the both of them were in immediate danger.

“Well I’m not exactly sure if she would want me to tell y-“

“She?!” Arthur voice, embarrassingly, cracked in the middle of his outraged cry. Merlin looked at him like he had goat horns growing out of his head.

In a much calmer tone, Arthur continued.

“And who is ‘she’?”

Something bloomed on Merlin’s face that had Arthur wary.

“Before we get to that, I have a question for you.”

“For me?”

“Considering this is officially the first day that we’re being honest with each other, someone told me that you have a secret of your own and I’d like to know what it is.”

Arthur, dumbfounded and feeling somewhat ambushed, could not think of anything to say other than,

“I didn’t hear a question.”

Like an idiot.

“Must you be so difficult? What is it you’re not telling me? How do you even have time in the day to keep secrets? I know where you are every minute.”

“Technically, I already told you.”

Arthur decided he would much rather brood out the window, staring at the sunset than watch Merlin flinch away from him in disgust.

“When?” The man honestly had no idea.

The prince rolled his eyes, pushing away a stupid smile.

“Just now, you idiot.”

“Did I miss part of the conversation? When did you-“ at the sound of Merlin cutting himself short, Arthur���s neck swiveled. He watched the pieces come together and realization finally hit.

He looked confused.

“I’m confused,” Of course. “You can’t possibly mean-“

“When I said your faith keeps me going, I meant it, Merlin.” There he was, standing in the morning rays, breathtaking as ever, the reason Camelot remains standing. Looking at Arthur as if he were speaking a different language.

“I rise out of that bed every morning simply because I know you will be there.”

This was not the prince and his manservant, this was just Merlin and Arthur. Two boys that met under unfortunate and unfair circumstances.

“And in those gut wrenching moments when I can’t find you, the fear feels as if it might kill me. If anything ever happened-“ Arthur turned his head away and swallowed a sob that threatened to ricochet through him at the mere thought.

“I would probably burn the entire world to the ground.” He whispered. More as a thought to himself, a thought he had never let come to pass.

It was silent for a few heartbeats. Merlin broke it.

“There is a word for that.”

Arthur hung his head at that. Defeat.

He’d finally been bested.

It finally caught him. He’d been evading it for years before Merlin came along, always sidestepping its ever-growing reach.

“Yes, there is.” He admitted. The morning was surreal and glowing, everything had a halo of rainbows. Arthur was running on nothing but adrenaline and at his confession, all of the energy completely drained out of him.

“Though,” Merlin took a step in his direction, and then another. “I shouldn’t. Against my better judgment…I love you, too.”

Arthur had been branded in that moment. As if Merlin had touched his bare skin with a red-hot poker. The words echoed through his emptying mind and bounced off the walls of his chambers.

“I don’t believe you.” Arthur could not catch them before the words fell out of his face.

He was met with chuckling.

Had he said something funny?

“You don’t believe me? The entire bloody kingdom can see it and you, stubborn arse, refuse to believe it, of course.” Merlin rolled his eyes. “Why would I tell you I love you if I didn’t mean it?”

“To make me feel better?” Arthur offered.

“As much as I would hate to hurt your feelings, I would never lie to you about that.”

Arthur suddenly had a thought.

“If that’s the case then who’s the woman?”

“What woman?”

“Earlier you said you weren’t sure if ‘she’ wanted you to tell me. Who’s she? And what did she tell you?”

“Oh.” Merlin fell silent.

And simultaneously, the room went dark.

Arthur’s first thought was that he blacked out. But no. He was still standing in place, he could hear the bustle of the castle beginning to rise for the day.

Someone had merely closed the curtains, blocking out the sun completely.

“Merlin? Did you do that?” Instinctively, his hand when to the hilt of his sword.

“No.” Followed immediately by, “Take my hands.”

“What?”

“I’m going to show you something. Take my hands.”

Arthur could only ever trust Merlin. With everything. His heart, his life, his kingdom.

His manservant’s eyes began to glow the second their hands touched.

It took the prince by surprise by he didn’t pull away. It seemed to take Merlin somewhat by surprise, also. His hands were buzzing, humming with power, Arthur fingers became numb from it after seconds.

Over the ringing in his ears the prince heard Merlin mumble,

“She’s here.”

The buzzing of his skin ceased, his eyes remained golden, blinking and unseeing.

“Who’s here?”

“Turn around and see for yourself.”

Arthur’s brows pinched in confusion, the heavy door at the entrance to his chambers had not been opened. They would’ve heard it.

He turned, dropping Merlin’s hands in the process, shocked beyond words to actually see a figure standing there.

Pale and beautiful. And sad.

He knew her upon sight.

Not because he had any memory of her face to call upon, no portraits were ever painted of her, but he knew, the way every child knows their mother.

He was stuck in place, memorizing every detail that he could to take with him later. To cherish.

“Arthur, my boy.” She spoke softly, only interrupted by her own crying.

Rather than trying to speak again, she crossed the distance between them and engulfed him in a hug.

The hug Arthur thought he would never have. The warmth of which, he’d gone an entire childhood without.

There truly was nothing more healing than being surrounded by a person who loves you, unconditionally.

“H-how did- why-?” Arthur cut each thought short because they did not seem important enough.

“I’m so sorry, mother.” He whispered into his mothers shoulder, silently letting wells of tears flow. “You should never have met such an awful fate because of me.”

“Hush now, none of that.” The Queen placed her hands on either side of Arthur’s face, holding him up. “I have been here with you, all this time, Arthur. That is all I ever wanted; To be with you. That is the only regret I carry regarding your birth, I would do it all again, if it meant you got the chance to live.”

“You’ve been…here? In the castle?”

She nodded.

“Seeing but never seen.” Arthur was both elated and heartbroken at seeing his mother this way. “That was the rule. Though, I think with your friend over there, anything is possible.”

“Yes, I’m beginning to think he’s more powerful than he lets on.” The absurdity of this conversation was not lost on him. If anyone had told him five hours ago that this would be his new normal, he’d probably have them thrown in the stocks.

His mother laughed and it was a beautiful sound, like the the high chiming of the wind charms made by a woman in the lower town, citizens hang them to hear them sing when the Earth is speaking through the breeze.

“I think you underestimate him quite a bit, your highness.” She shook her head at him, as every other mother had that Arthur always looked upon and wondered. “Merlin is magic. He is the power of the earth made human. And his loyalty is to you. You are a very fortunate king, indeed.”

“Not King yet, mother.”

She sobered immediately from her playfulness.

Arthur did not have to guess why.

“Do not listen to your father, Arthur. It may go against all you’ve been taught but he is not always right. In fact, he is almost always wrong. Especially in terms of political affairs, but always with you. What he says to you, of you, is what he thinks of himself. He is angry because he is getting old and he cannot control time. He has taken his life’s hardships out on you and you never deserved that, Arthur. You are a great man and you will make a fantastic King.”

As the last words fell, she began to fade, slowly. But her skin was turning more translucent with every second. Arthur mourned all over again.

“Our time has run out, my boy, even our Merlin can only hold the connection so long. But I will always be here, should you need me.”

“I love you, mother.”

“I love you, too, Arthur.” Faint, but Arthur heard it.

Then, she was gone.

And now Arthur had to pick up the eight year old version of himself that was currently balled up in the center of his chest, and put him back where he goes. In a dark dusty corner of his mind.

It was quiet for a few moments.

The prince turned to find Merlin sat in the floor, the same spot he had been standing, on the other side of the room.

The manservant rose shakily.

“Well, that was…”

“Yeah, it was.” Arthur sighed, long and exhausted.

“Merlin, you are going to go tell my father that I have been unwell since supper last night. Then you will come back here.” Arthur began to unclad himself of belts and tunics.

“Tomorrow, we talk. Today, We are taking a well-deserved nap.”

“You’re inviting me to…take a nap with you.” The blonde could hear the smile creeping into Merlin’s voice as he spoke but decided he was too tired to scold him.

“Yes, Merlin. Or you’re welcome to go sleep in Gaius’ chambers with him banging beakers and books around all day. Be my guest.”

“I’ll be back in a flash, sire.”

Arthur turned just in time to see Merlin wink at him before leaving.

So, this was the new normal.

Arthur liked it.

[browneyesandhair]

Non-Exhaustive List of Soulmate Fics: Klaroline Pt 1

Okay, I'm bored so I'm compiling my favorite soulmate fics. Here's the Klaroline edition:

Runaway by Cupcakemolotov

Summary:

Caroline has been running from her soul mate since she found him standing over her father’s corpse.

Hunt You Slow by Cupcakemolotov

Summary:

Discovering that the scourge of the supernatural was her soulmate would be enough to send any girl running.

At Horizon's Edge by Cupcakemolotov

Summary:

Sometimes when a girl goes on a shopping trip to pick up a new pair of boots at the local, and somewhat hostile, human space station, she accidentally aids and abets a prison break instead. What happens in the black really doesn't stay in the black.

The Howling by Cupcakemolotov

Summary:

Caroline's day goes from bad to worse to insane in a matter of moments.

Written On Your Skin by LaLainaJ

Summary:

It's a rather boring day, at the flower shop Caroline owns. And then The Original Hybrid walks in, and changes her life by uttering a few small words. They're words Caroline knows, words she sees on her skin, every day in the mirror. She's thought about her soulmate, who wouldn't have? But he's the last thing she ever would have expected, and the last person she should want. But she can't quite bring herself to deny their connection.

The Air We Breathe by slstmaraudersjple

Summary:

When Caroline learns that her soulmate is the thousand year old Original Hybrid, she cries, because she knows her world is ending. When Klaus learns that his soulmate is a baby vampire, he is intrigued, because he has waited his entire life for her. Soulmates AU.

Even When We're Ghosts by LaLainaJ

Summary:

He'd just been planning to collect his doppelganger, hadn't anticipated such strong resistance. Now, trapped in his wolf form, until he meets his soulmate, Klaus seeks alternative solutions. He doesn't believe in soulmates. Until Caroline Forbes crosses his path. Caroline thinks she's hallucinating (note to self, don't accept moonshine from old ladies) until her life starts getting... weird. The Mikaelsons aren't great at subtle.

the fate makes for a lousy poet. by for_darkness_shows_the_stars

Summary:

It is not unheard of. Soulmates born too far apart to ever meet. Caroline did her research thoroughly. It’s just rare. And for all that she’d known her entire life that her fated other half was dead long, long before she was even a gleam in her mother’s eye … it’s unfair. . Everyone is born with a soulmate. It just so happens that a millennium divides Caroline from hers.

I Wish I Was (I Wish I Was) by dressedupasmyself

Summary:

“I think that even if you find your soulmate, there’s some measure of choice involved. Maybe some people just make the wrong choices.” “Good,” Caroline said. “What if my soulmate is, like, the worst? I wouldn’t want to be stuck with him forever. I want some kind of choice.” “But that’s the beauty of it,” Elena sounded wistful, “Your soulmate might be awful to everyone else, but they’re the best for you.” Caroline scoffed. “Okay, whatever.”

Passing Notes in Secrecy by perfectpro

Summary:

Caroline doesn’t remember not having a soulmate. Her mom says that the drawings started when she was small, just a baby. So he’s clearly older than her. She doesn’t mind, thinks that it will probably be nice to be with someone who has a little more life experience. She thinks she's one of the lucky ones.

The Raven Hunter by LynyrdLionheart

Summary:

There is a killer hunting frat boys on campus. The Raven Hunter is a terrible name... not that Caroline has a reason to care or anything.

a part of something that’s bigger (than me) by Issay

Summary:

In the beginning she's a plaything, the mean girl brought low, made and unmade by decisions of others and Caroline never receives apologies for most of it. Elena fights for her happy ending and through all of her losses and dark despair she is never alone. Bonnie wins her freedom, powerful in her own right. Caroline is left with uncertainty and obligations. No, the story isn't kind to Caroline. So let's change the story.

oh there you are (i've been looking for you) by breakfasttako

Summary:

Caroline was born a fated one, which means two things: 1) She has a soulmate 2) She's going to die tragically young

What's a Little Ink? by Writerwithagoal

Summary:

What would you get as a tattoo if you knew it would appear on your soulmate?

Hallowed Ground by KiryTheStitchWitch

Summary:

Caroline's trip to Ireland was not going the way it was supposed to. She was expecting stories and myths, and instead finds that some legends are a lot more real than she could have imagined. And hot. Really hot.

Inadvisable by MissNMikaelsonSummary:Everyone has soul words. The first thing your soulmate will ever say etched somewhere on your body. Caroline always dreaded meeting hers. She had never imagined this though; she had never imagined him. He had all but given up. Just a one shot for one of my favorite pairings.

Midnattsol by BelleMorte180

Summary:

The man laying before her was her soulmate, someone who should have died a thousand years ago. Written for AU-Season week three

Ship of Bones by Cupcakemolotov

Summary:

When humanity struggles to maintain its racial identity in the cold reaches of space, Caroline Forbes has hidden the gifts her alien mother left her. But secrets aren't secrets forever.

Familiar Taste of Poison by Cupcakemolotov

Summary:

A great love isn't always a blessing.

Holding Out for a Hero by slstmaraudersjple

Summary:

Klaus would totally be able to focus on his plans for world domination… if only his soulmate would stop singing that thrice-damned song. But then there's silence, and Klaus grows worried. Soulmate AU where songs that one’s soulmate sings gets stuck in one’s head. CW/TW: descriptions of Caroline being abused by Damon but nothing graphic/explicit.

[izvmimi]

cw: selfship content. halloween themed. female reader. multiple children are mentioned, all named. family fluff.

You sigh, running gel through your son’s freshly dyed sandy blond hair for what feels like the third time in the last twenty minutes as he frowns in the mirror and points to portions where his curls have overpowered his desire to mimic Dynamight’s signature spiky tips.

“Maybe we should just cut this part?” Izumi asks, a slight whine in his voice. You shake your head and tut.

“Be patient with me, honey,” you insist. He doesn’t seem so sure, brow furrowing which you smooth out with your non-sticky pinky. He whines again and you look to your other son instead to prevent yourself from being just as frustrated with him. Aki is sitting quietly and waiting patiently, kicking his feet as he sits on the edge of your bed and it makes you chuckle, because somehow the two-toned wig suits him a little too well, and you can imagine Shoto as a kid with the exact same peaceful expression on his face as he entertains himself.

You finally come up with styling that your eldest will accept and he gives you a thankful hug then starts to run off, almost tripping over a plastic gauntlet as it falls off his arm, poorly adjusted. Aki looks at you and then his brother, eyes wide in shock, and you find yourself laughing, because again, he’s got Shoto’s mannerisms down a little too perfectly.

“Mom!” Izumi immediately calls out, not bothering to pick the gauntlet up, pointing at it helplessly. 

“Baby, it’s not broken, don’t worry,” you reply softly, coming over.  You scoop it up and kneel to readjust it just when Izuku comes in, a little Red Riot on his hip, and your only child with a traditional costume, Atsuna the Good Witch, trailing close behind holding her father’s hand in a bright pink glittery dress.

“Is everything okay?” Izuku asks, tentatively. He’s dressed as a mummy but his heavily bandaged up face only sparing his curls, his eyes, parts of his nose and his mouth reminds you too much of every time he’s been practically chained to a hospital bed. Atsuna, as though summoned, runs over to tap a visibly anxious Izumi’s shoulder with her wand and he bristles at her but doesn’t snap and you’re thankful that your irritable son still loves his little siblings more than anything.

“The gauntlets won’t stay on,” Izumi grumbles. You fasten them carefully then remember you have tape and ask him to hold on. Izuku adjusts Kenji who’s sucking on a lollipop with zero cares in the world on his hip and frowns sympathetically.

“Aw, that sucks, buddy! You know whose costume doesn’t have gauntlets-“ 

“Izuku,” you warn as you rummage through the drawers for a lasting solution to the Gauntlet Affair.

“I’m just saying!” He calls back. Atsuna floats up to her dad’s eye level then taps her wand on his nose as well and he smiles at her before booping her on the nose as well. She giggles as 4 year old girls are wont to do and Izuku figures out her bid for attention and cradles her in his other arm.

“Aren’t you the cutest witch?” He praises her and she replies, “Princess witch, Dad! Princess witch!”

“Yes, Princess witch, of course!”

They play together for a moment while Kenji finally decides he’s had enough of sitting still and insists on slipping out of Izuku’s grasp to sit with Aki instead. Aki carries him awkwardly on his lap, still kicking his feet as he waits. Kenji thrusts his saliva-covered lollipop in his face but Aki shakes his head instead and smiles without consequences.

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding as you finally secure the gauntlets with enough tape to last sixteen years of play. Izumi, now overjoyed, throws a few punches then jumps for joy.

“Okay, let’s go!” He insists, beaming and despite your earlier unrest, this also brings you to a grin.

—-

“I just don’t know why he doesn’t think I’m cool too,” Izuku mopes as the two of you stand back at the edge of the curb, watching Izumi, Aki and Atsuna collect candy from a particularly well decorated house. Atsuna stands ahead, singing “Trick or Treat!” and gets the oohs and ahhs she deserves while Izumi pretends to be tough and gets candy regardless, and Aki is tremendously polite as usual, bowing as he’s treated as well. 

“Let your kids escape you for one night, Izuku, please,” you reply. He pouts again and you giggle. “Just on our short walk here we passed by five Dekus, I think you’re liked enough.”

“It’s not the same!”

Izumi might look nearly exactly like Izuku but that similarity is bidirectional when it comes to pleading with you.

Kenji looks at his dad and shakes his head too solemnly which makes you nearly burst out laughing, and then he offers you a now nearly completely consumed lollipop stick that almost sticks to your Dorothy costume wig if not for your artful dodge. You peck his forehead to distract him as you gently remove it from his sticky fingers, then continue to watch ahead at your older children.

“And he banishes us,” Izuku adds, displeased. 

“He’s banishing you, not me,” you correct.

“I can’t stop people from asking me for autographs.” Izuku’s close to another why-doesn’t-my-son-love-me spiral, as Izumi often sends him in, and you pat his cheek sympathetically.

“I know, and that’s why I appreciate the mummy costume this year, although it’s not working with our theme, baby.” You pinch his cheek. 

“I think considering half of us are cosplaying as my high school friends, and the other half the Wizard of Oz, we don’t have a cohesive theme anyway,” he retorts, crossing his arms. He looks satisfied with his response and you raise an eyebrow.

“Are you telling me I should have dressed like Ochaco?”

The blood drains from his face.

“When did I say this?”

“Careful,” you reply icily. He gives you a nervous smile, then kisses you on the forehead. You let him defrost you, and Izuku pulls away as both of you receive a group text.

We’re turning the loop, we’ll meet you halfway? Your friend texts you and Izuku. With that text, there’s a picture of Bakugou’s son dressed as a little Deku which makes you stifle a laugh. When you turn to Izuku, he’s positively elated. It’s the original suit too, the very first costume he’s ever had at UA and looks almost perfect, and Izuku raves about the attention to detail and how he can’t wait to see the little boy in person.

“See you’re someone’s hero!” you whisper as the kids finally make their way back with their hauls. Atsuna and Aki obediently hand the buckets to you to inspect the candy before you hand them each a piece, and move on to the next. Izumi frowns but reluctantly hands his bucket to his dad.

Izuku takes it and ruffles his hair before Izumi runs off ahead, Aki and Atsuna following close behind. Izumi suddenly stops, and turns to Izuku.

“Dad, race me?” he asks. 

Izuku is happier than anything to do so, and you watch your family run down the street, as sweet a sight as can be.

[blue--ingenue]

Ominis Gaunt headcannons {Pt. 4}

Author's Note: when i'm trying to think of what to write i like to walk around spots in the game and think of what the characters would think/do. what would their favorite study spots be? do they have a favorite place to curl up with a book? etc. anyway, this came to me while i was walking around the slytherin common room. hope you enjoy :) and i'm starting a taglist for my Ominis headcannons series, so let me know if you'd like to be added :)

he knows most of the house elves by name. the Gaunts are notorious for their abuse of house elves, so most of the kitchen/cleaning staff steered clear of them for the first few weeks of his first year. then one day, when ominis was still getting used to the charm he used to see, he tripped over a one of the elves’ mop buckets. the young Gaunt’s face flushed bright red and he fumbled for his wand before pointing it directly at her. she froze in place and cowered, waiting for whatever punishment he would dole out, but none came

he stuttered out an incantation and flicked his wand in her direction - and the rag she wore dried instantly. confused, but still terrified, she remained frozen. young ominis apologized profusely, using the few spells he knew to clean up the mess. all the while he explained how he was having a bit of trouble maintaining the charm for extended periods

after the bucket was righted and the water had vanished from the floor, he helped her up and asked for her name. Niffy explained that few witches or wizards ever asked, and that she’d never had a student offer to help her, let alone with magic. he continued on his way, but Niffy made sure to tell every elf in the castle to keep a protective eye on young Ominis

not many students know this, but there are plenty of snakes that have made their home within the castle. while Ominis doesn’t enjoy speaking parseltongue, he likes that the snakes bring him gossip from around the school. when Sebastian asks how he seems to know everyone’s secrets and rumors, he replies that he simply listens more than he talks. (while this is true, the snakes’ rumor mill is mostly responsible). behind the walls and within the pipes, they hear everything about everyone (which means Ominis does, too)

this boy has managed to free nearly every house elf tied to the Gaunt name. when he first came to hogwarts his parents assigned one of the house elves to follow him around. he hated feeling coddled, but he knew his father would take his anger out on the house elf if ominis sent him back

there’s a trip to Hogsmeade for all of the first-years a few days after the sorting ceremony. the prefects break them into groups and give them brief tours of all the shops. at the end they’re given a few hours to roam before everyone returns to the castle for dinner. Anne and Sebastian, ever curious and looking for the greatest source of action, follow him from a distance. they know he’s a Gaunt. they’ve heard of his family’s reputation. nearly everyone in their year avoids him like the plague, but the twins don’t find him to be any different from their classmates (aside from the house elf that never leaves his side)

it turns out Ominis had taken out as large of a deposit as he could and had the galleons sent by post. his poor owl couldn’t carry the sack of gold, so he was told he could retrieve the coins at the post office. the twins watch as he nonchalantly shoves the equivalent of a year of Solomon’s earnings into a sack and enters Gladrags

naturally, they follow him. he purchases the warmest cloak in the shop, but doesn’t leave. puzzled, the twins watch as he asks Mr. Hill something and hands the coat back to him. he sizes up the house elf with a quick once-over before waving his wand over the garment. when he’s finished, the coat is ten times smaller than before. they watch in awe as young Ominis presents the clothing to his house elf, along with the sack of galleons

the house elf begins to weep, but Ominis merely kneels so that he can speak to the elf without tower over him. as the pair exit the shop, they hear him tell the elf to “be careful, and live well” before they embrace and the elf apparates away with a loud pop

the next day they introduce themselves, and the trio become inseparable

(Ominis’ father stops sending house elves to Ominis, but only after the young boy has managed to free half of their household staff)

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Taglist: @caramel-hufflepuff, @fanfiction-she-wrote

[sunshinebingo]

Gwyn and Azriel stumble across Rhys as they leave for their date.

Gwynriel with a dash of Gwynsand - 700 words

For @lulling-night-sky who is a sucker for fluff and anything that has to do with Rhysand (except my fics where he gets beaten up)

***

“Ready?” Azriel asked Gwyn after having gaped at her in awe for a while.

Gwyn beamed, her heart fluttering at how flustered she had – not for the first time – rendered the usually stoic Spymaster, and nodded excitedly.

She had been looking forward to this moment for the entire day. Even as she had fed and played with Nyx, her thoughts had kept going back to Azriel and their upcoming evening together.

Having happily agreed to spend the day looking after the little lord with Nesta at the River House so that his parents could focus on their duties, Gwyn had decided to bring everything that she would need and get ready for her date with Azriel here instead of asking someone to winnow or fly her back to the House of Wind. Besides, Emerie and her had spent so much time here with the inner circle that the High Lord and Lady always had a guest room reserved for them.

She took the hand that Azriel offered and followed him from the bottom of the staircase to the foyer. From the living area, she heard the voices of Nesta and Cassian who was enthusiastically responding to the prattling of Nyx, as well as Feyre who had returned while Gwyn was stressing out over whether to put her hair up or leave it down.

She had gone with the third option proposed by Nesta to tie the top half up with a pretty silver hair stick gifted to her by Emerie for Solstice. The best thing about it was the thin dagger hidden inside that could potentially come in handy. She might be going out with one of deadliest – and most handsome – male alive, but she was still a Valkyrie who loved daggers, especially when they were disguised as pretty accessories.

“You are breathtaking.”

Gwyn blushed from his compliment. Emerie and Nesta were right about the fact that her little black dress was the ideal choice. It was also a perfect match to Azriel’s entirely black attire.

“So are you, Shadowsinger.”

His answering smile almost made her trip on her own feet. He brought their intertwined hands to his lips and kissed her knuckles.

Azriel opened the door and started to leave when another set of footsteps was heard coming their way. Looking to her left, Gwyn saw Rhysand strolling towards them with his hands in his pockets, no doubt having completed his work for the day and ready to reunite with his mate and son.

“Bye Rhys.” She waved a hand at him.

Gwyn still couldn’t believe how close they have become over the past few years. Sometimes they were a High Lord and a Valkyrie who worked together for the well-being of those they cared for, other times they were confidants who listened and offered support. Sometimes they were like protective siblings who looked out for each other, oftentimes they were the type of siblings who teased and pestered the other. But at the core of all these versions of them were mutual respect and care. The kind of bond that Gwyn never thought that she would ever have. None of the relationships that she had forged so far had been expected, yet they were all precious in their own way.

“Be home by midnight,” he ordered, pursing his lips to stop the smile that was threatening to break on his lips. His violet eyes sparkled like the first stars that had started to appear in the sky. Azriel snorted at the curfew that his brother was imposing on Gwyn.

“Fuck off.” She rolled her eyes. “You’re not my father.”

Rhys crossed his arms and puffed his chest. The arrogant asshole, she thought.

“I’m old enough to be.”

Gwyn laughed. She squeezed Azriel’s hand and dragged him out of the door, eager to finally be alone with him.

“You’re old enough to be the cauldron’s father,” she shouted at Rhys before slamming his own door shut in his face.

The sound of Rhys’ gasp on the other side of the door was covered by the chuckle that Azriel let out beside her. What a lovely way to start their evening!

[megu-meow]

Bulls**t - Gojo Satoru

gojo satoru x non-specified reader

I don’t think I used any gender specific pronouns or character descriptions, however, I have written this with female reader in mind.

Summary: Gojo Satoru is the king of making up stuff. There is one thing he keeps saying that is actually true tho.

Gojo Satoru is a knowledgeable guy, especially when it comes to Jujutsu sorcery and the history of it. He is also the type of person to have many interests. He spends hours learning about his favorite topics and has an opinion about everything. When people bring up stuff he doesn't know about he listens carefully and is deeply invested in the conversation, and once he has enough free time he will read and learn everything about the subject matter so that the next time he can be an active part of the conversation. That is the sole reason why people never question all the random shit he says. You see, Gojo Satoru enjoys messing with people more than anything. Hence, he makes up random facts and stories and he is insanely talented in delivering them with such confidence that they are easy to believe.

One time in high school he managed to convince Shoko that the famous J-Pop idol from the late 90s, Ayumi Hamasaki, was his half-sister. He spent 15 minutes explaining to the young healer that before his mother met his father, she had an affair with a man from Fukuoka named Netero Hamasaki and got pregnant. According to Gojo, his mother was young and had to give up on the child, but Hamasaki-san was more than willing to raise her with his wife who was unable to have children. The special grade sorcerer also explained to his classmate that his mother and Netero were not getting along, because after Ayumi became famous they started ignoring the rest of the family and they became too full of themselves. Shoko listened to Satoru's words in awe, eating up every single word leaving his lips. Two days later, a very excited Yu Haibara approached him, begging for an autograph from Ayumi, which resulted in Gojo telling everyone the truth, resulting in a deeply annoyed and humiliated Shoko.

In another instance, he made Megumi believe that he was supposed to have a pelican Shikigami right after he got his demon dogs. He also showed the young, impressionable boy a series of goofy hand gestures and dance moves that were "supposed to summon the pelican, the most powerful shikigami of the Zenin clan's ten shadows technique". Poor Megumi spent a week going around night and day, doing the insane moves taught by the special-grade idiot who was supposed to take care of him, but the pelican never appeared. However, Gojo enjoyed the situation way too much, bursting out in uncontrollable fits of laughter every time he caught the raven-haired boy while he was trying with all his might to summon his second Shikigami. Thankfully, Principal Yaga cleared the air one time he was taking care of the child while Gojo was out on a mission, however, Megumi never asked Satoru to help him with his technique again.

During their second year, as he and Geto were bored out of their minds with the recent missions they were sent to, the two convinced the higher-ups that they encountered a special-grade curse that injected them with some kind of venom that took away their cursed technique until further notice. This scheme included Shoko as well as she was the one to forge a medical report, claiming that a few days off in Okinawa or any beachy environment would make the toxins release from their bodies faster. The young healer made sure that she was included in the trip claiming that constant medical attention was an absolute must in the current situation. They spent a total of 10 days not doing anything on Jujutsu Tech's account.

Recently, as an assistant teacher, you witnessed how Gojo Satoru tried to convince the first years to do his chores, claiming that it would make them stronger. Yuji didn't question this ridiculous statement, given his circumstances of recently learning about the mere existence of the Jujutsu World, however, Nobara and Megumi knew better, instantly protesting doing his chores. Gojo Satoru is determined as fuck tho, so he managed to spend 30 minutes trying to change the stubborn children's minds until you intervened and dismissed them from class.

"Oh, c'mon sweetheart, I was about to break them." he whined, following you to the teacher's lounge like a lost puppy.

"You shouldn't lie to teenagers like that, Gojo. Especially not Yuji, he's in a vulnerable state, and he will believe everything you say. I know you like to come up with the most unhinged stuff, but one would think that your students were the limit of your idiotic shenanigans." you chastise.

"Everyone thinks my lies are funny though!" he exclaims, his voice laced with fake hurt.

"I doubt that." you whisper, your mind drifting towards all of the instances he claimed that he liked you and wanted to take you out on a date. You knew better than to believe anything coming out of his mouth, especially when he used the tone he always uses when he tries to sell one of his elaborate stories. You had to protect yourself from falling for him or his lies after all.

"What's wrong?" he asks. He recognizes a shift in your cursed energy, it falters and he knows you well enough to able to tell that it's because you're sad.

"Nothing, leave me alone, Gojo!"

"Nu-uh, you're the love of my life, I have to know who or what made you upset so that I can blast them across the universe with Hollow Purple."

"Stop lying, Gojo!"

"You think I'm lying??? I would never lie about my feelings for you!" he exclaims, now he's offended.

"Bullshit!"

"What do you mean bullshit?! I've liked you since day one, y/n!" he steps closer to you, lifting your chin up so that he can look you in your eyes. You are surprised to notice that his blindfold is lowered to sit around his neck, his cerulean eyes on full display. The two crystalline orbs reflect nothing but honesty and you even question how he was ever able to sell any of his lies when his eyes seem to be telling the truth at all times. Of course, he's always covering them when he's about to come up with his most unhinged stories, however, now he's confessing the most important truth of his life. "Do you believe me now, sweetheart?" he asks, his voice breaking, afraid of rejection. You nod shyly, blushing as you realize how close his pretty lips are to yours.

"Can I kiss you?" he asks enthusiastically and you don't answer, you just eliminate the small distance between you two, inviting his lips into a sweet dance with yours. His arms wrap around your hips, pulling you closer, savoring the moment he's been dreaming about for years.

Gojo Satoru has many made-up stories and anecdotes to share, but none of them can compete with the story of your first kiss. That's one he'll be telling for a long time.