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#so i guess it's going here. i know i'm dangerous‚ i know too well how strong the urge to say this out loud is.
derealizes · 10 months
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wow you really don't care do you? you're so fucking selfish. i'm doing everything i fucking can to keep it together and i'm failing but look at you, relaxing and being happy and taking all those slivers of joys for yourself. it's like you dont even fucking care about me isn't it. you wont comfort me right because you don't love me enough do you? I'm just convenient for you . your stupid fucking pack mule your slave your permanent c*ret*ker just so you can tell me to take my baggage somewhere else huh. well i loved you. i still love you . don't you care??? how can you be so fucking heartless while looking so cute? or do you. i love you. now love me back. care. care about me. fucking give a shit. for once. love me. love me. love me.
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coffee-and-tea-time · 3 months
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Yandere shop! Choose your yandere!
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I was thinking, did you ever listen to yandere asmr videos? If so, you will catch on quickly that this is based on the yandere shop, which was so popular in asmr videos during the pandemia. - coffee
If you didn’t, quick summary Coffee gave me: imagine if there is a place where you can enter and you can ‘buy’ (they pay you since you are going to take care of a serial killer so he don’t kill people while you two got your twisted love) a yandere of your choosing. - tea
Word count: 1.2k but this will be edited to correct misspellings or weird sentence structure later, sorry in advance.
tw: yandere behavior, willing reader, delulu, written in you/yours, reader is a little nervous but really interested, you can choose humans yanderes and non-human (although humanoid) yanderes!
You fix your clothing and take a deep breath, your mind filled with ‘what if..’ yet, you were here, in a place that you didn’t trust was real
A creak takes you out of your thoughts, a smiling man dressed rather formally, greets you cheerfully.
“Sorry to interrupt when you are so absorb in your pretty mind My dear, but you know, a little push may help you”
He said as he extended his hand to you, well, you already made your way here hoping to get a yandere so you gather all your corague as you take the man's hand. He led inside the shop, you can hear the click of the door closing behind you as you follow him.
“Oh, I hope you weren’t thinking of backing up so quickly Dear, want something to drink?”
You gently shake your shake as you sit down in one of the couches, on the inside it looks pretty much like a coffee shop.
“Smart choice but you still seem rather nervous, want to say something before I go ahead and show you the catalog?”
“Well, I wanted to know, what can you do for the yandere you like to like you back? What if the one I choose doesn't like me back?”
Your worries were met with a not-so-subtly laugh from the man which make you kind of annoyed and embarrassed.
“Sorry Dear, I just never thought I ever meet somebody that feel insecure about the love of a yandere”
Now you wanted to punch him, is a normal question to ask! The yandere have their own way to fall in love!
“Let me give you a quick explanation, if they had a darling, both of us know they would be busy stalking them. The yanderes we have don’t have a darling, but are eager for the sense of love on their own way which may not suit everyone so to avoid problems, this shop was put in place as a matchmaker between differents kinds of yanderes and people who enjoy them"
You sight in relief as you nod.
“alright, who is more likely to go even more insane if they don't get a darling soon.."
"Sorry, what did you just say? I couldn't hear you well"
"Oh, nothing Dear, I was just searching for the ones that been waiting the most, is how the list work, I will show you a few options first so you have an idea, you can ask for another kind if you had something else in mind, I'm sure we got something that will suit your taste; Although, do remember that is just one yandere, we had problems with that before"
"How is it that someone got the permission to have more than one? I thought you guys will keep in track that since well, it's dangerous for anyone"
"She didn't have permission but she manage because she stubbornly wanted a yandere harem, the result are expected, averyone in that house died except for one yandere, he is again on the list, and as you can guess, he end up more being more... intense. He is totally your perfect option if you like a very possessive yandere, he's a more serious yandere for that experience"
“That will be dangerous for me too?”
"Dont worry Dear, he is truly desperate for love like the rest, his name is Dizie. But if you rather a more gentle treat, Gabriel is your guy, I don't know much about him since he said that only his darling will get to know everything about him. As far as I know, he's kind of yandere that will kiss the ground were his darling walk, a worshiper you can say, if you like someone looks at you like you are a deity, he's definitely your perfect match"
“Isn’t every yandere a worshiper in their own ways?”
"Well, I guess? Is true that others have another específic ways to worship, look, he's the baker, relishes in your enjoyment of their pastries, a very skilled baker that knows how to include the most unique of ingredients to make the sweetest of treats, dreams of putting his heart and soul in every treat he bakes for his darling, his name is Oliver”
"What kind of ingredients tho?"
“The next one you may like is actually a popular singer, he chooses to keep anonymous unless chosen, but if you want to be a celebrity or date one, he is someone you can guess that will love to spoil their darling, he’s on the talkative side, if you like art or stuff like that, you will enjoy his house. although he babbles a lot of how he wish to hear the voice of his darling obsessively for hours”
The seller seems to dodge your question.
“Ah, of course, we also have some special yanderes if humans are boring or less attractive for you, look, he’s Myotis, the classic vampire, he even has wings! Isn’t it perfect to see the sky closer while you enjoy the company of a yandere that looks like he just came out of a book? If you are also into short kings, you gonna love him without a doubt”
"He's not going to drain me out of blood, is he?"
“Dear, why would a yandere who waits so long for their darling, kill them? But if vampires aren't your type, you could go for a mothman! You will be the light of his life, literally. He’s a big softie and kind of clumsy; he just eagerly waits for the arrival of his daylight. A good choose if you like special clingy yanderes, he is not around humans too much, but he said he wanted to be called Lior if he got chosen. Oh, if you are on the stronger side, you may want to keep your eye on Tarak, he said something about his name meaning something like star and protector I think, I guess he chose the name by himself, he’s a prideful dragon and really loves to talk, honestly, I’m not that intelligent to understand some things that he say, but if you like to know new things by listening, asking or reading, he's your man, you can try trying to teach him something new, I don't think is impossible to archive”
“You know what ag…”
You stopped talking when you catch a security camera in a corner moving around frantically yet appear like not seeing anything?
“Don’t mind him, is just Grier, even though I don’t know if that's his real name, I do know he loves trying to spy here using the security cameras so we end up having to put tape on them when a darling is coming to the shop; as you can guess, he’s a hacker, if you choose him, you will be very well protected and taken cared of since you gonna be being watched even if you think you are alone, if that what you wish for, please do choose him.”
The seller looks at you, waiting for an answer, to choose what kind of yandere you want or ask for a specific type now.
“You don’t really go outside too much, so I don’t think you gonna have problems with any of them”
You act like you didn’t hear his murmur as you look at the papers in your hand of every yandere he just talked about.
If your favorite options lose or you want something specific, just send an ask! We love comments and interactions in general so don't be shy.
seller post
Sneak peek of the first encounters
sorry for any misspellings or weird sentence structure ❣
images from pinterest ⚘
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radiant-reid · 3 months
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Reunion
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Summary: JJ never knew you were dating one of her teammates and that you broke up because of her, but seeing him at JJ's wedding years later changes things.
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader (Angst then smutttt)
Content Warning: 18+ Smut (oral- f receiving, fingering, unprotected sex, a little bit of a breeding kink)
Word Count: 2.1k
"So, how's mystery boy?"
After skipping your usual Tuesday night plans twice, thanks to JJ being away on cases, you're finally back in your best friend's living room having a glass of wine and a cheese platter.
It's been an abnormal amount of time to go without seeing each other since you both ended up in DC after moving out of East Allegheny to different colleges. Even with men in the mix now, you both make it a priority to see each other as often as possible. However, her busy schedule and frequent flights to New Orleans have meant you've spent some time apart.
Unknown to her, she knows the so-called mystery boy. Very well, in fact. "He's well." You say slyly, unable not to grin widely.
JJ throws her head back dramatically. "Come on, Y/n! Some detail would be nice."
"It's good." You try again. "He's the sweetest. I'm very happy."
She smirks, letting you know an interesting question is coming your way. "How's the sex?"
It never takes more than a glass of wine for her to be that loose. You don't miss a beat in your answer. "Fabulous."
"Okay, so can I meet him soon?" She pushes like she has been for quite some time.
You wonder what she would think. What would her expression do if you were to say his name out loud right here? Maybe it's not that deep but getting with JJ's closest colleague is dangerous. It was a concern at the start, a reason not to start, but you fell in love with Spencer Reid quicker than you could ever imagine.
"Sure, JJ." You agree, trying to look positively about it. You can only assume she's thinking about the worst possible scenario about your mystery man. He's a criminal or he's far too old for you or he's an ex you promised not to get back with. There are too many options.
She looks triumphant. "Yes!"
You just smile, sending the conversation in a different direction by asking about her boyfriend. He sounds like a great guy and you can tell she's happier than ever before.
Three months ago you met Spencer Reid. It was JJ's birthday and your duty as her best friend to throw her a fun surprise party. That took some coordination with a friend from work. Firstly, that was Penelope, but in order to lure JJ, you needed Spencer Reid. He was a little slow with replying to your texts, but lovely. And after you met him, you were hooked.
Spencer was perfect. Gorgeous, funny, intelligent. His incredible shyness had you confused when he asked you out for dinner the next morning.
Too many espresso martinis provide an explanation for why JJ has no recollection of you flirting with him all night.
You see Spencer as much as you can, but similar to JJ's, his schedule often doesn't allow for consistent visits. So whatever time you do have, you make the most of it. He's still the most amazing boyfriend you've had. Kind, caring, witty, fun, and playful.
He gets whisked away on a case to Miami not long after being home. You didn't know things would be so different the next time you saw him.
He goes quiet on you. You know their cases are intense but you haven't heard from him in an entire week and that's not right.
Can I come over? He finally texts you and you're guessing he's back in DC.
It sounds a little ominous and the message sends a chill down your spine. Sure. I can't wait to see you. There isn't a reply and you sit in limbo in your apartment for almost an hour before he knocks at the door.
You smile when you open it, although you're slightly annoyed there was zero communication or ETA from him. "Hey, Spence, how was it?"
"You knew." He says in a cold, accusatory tone. It's nothing you've ever heard from him.
"Sorry?" You repeat, moving to the side so he can come into your apartment.
He steps in, barely looking at you. "About JJ and Will." He explains.
A little frown takes over your expression. Surely he's not angry that he only just found out. An awkward laugh leaves your lips. "Sorry, Spence. She didn't want anyone knowing."
"I'm your boyfriend!" He exclaims. "You're not supposed to lie to me."
"I didn't." You join the offensive, crossing your arms. You're not enthused about what he's accusing you of. It wasn't even your secret to tell him.
He looks disappointed, face dropping. "Come on." He sighs. "How am I meant to be with you if you don't trust me enough to tell me who our friend is dating?"
"It wasn't my secret to tell." You try to talk some reason into him, pushing down that sick feeling in your stomach telling you that he's breaking up with you.
Spencer shakes his head, his decision- as much as it's killing him- completely made. "I can't do this."
His words make your world come crashing down and you almost can't believe it. You slump to the couch while he makes his way to the door with sad, slow footsteps.
He's looking at you, waiting for you to ask him to say. "Can we not tell JJ?" You ask softly.
"Fine." That's the last thing he tells you before walking out the door, shutting it firmly.
That's it.
The last thing Spencer tells you.
Then he's gone from your life. You talk about him less to JJ and she picks up on what happened and stops asking about him.
You expect to see him when Henry's born, or even at a point in his life. Somehow, you don't. Your schedules never line up and then JJ switches jobs. There's a myriad of reasons but it doesn't happen. You both go on with separate lives.
And then JJ and Will are getting married. You get a frantic call from your best friend's soon-to-be-husband who whispers secret plans to you over the phone. It's perfect, you know JJ will adore the simplicity and elegance of a backyard wedding.
You're there as soon as you can be, helping set up Rossi's backyard so it's gorgeous for the most gorgeous person you know.
You're the maid of honor, of sorts. And you don't get a chance to ask who the best man is before JJ arrives and the ceremony begins.
You strike out as soon as you spot a tall brunette. A tall brunette who made you the happiest you've ever been with a man. And he's still just as handsome.
His eyes bulge when he sees you but he keeps a straight face and clenches his teeth while the ceremony continues. You're mostly focused on how beautiful JJ looks and how sweet their wedding is, but you can't help your mind drifting to Spencer.
You hadn't seen him dressed up like this when you were dating and the tuxedo is a perfect look on him.
"Y/n." He comes up to you when you're getting yourself a glass of champagne.
"Spencer." You reply. His tone doesn't let much about how he's feeling on. All you get is a glimmer of shock.
He stands against the table. "Maid of honor?"
You shrug, a little confused at his question. "You know, I'm surprised I haven't seen you all these years." You admit, letting some honesty slip.
"It was slightly intentional." He offers.
You don't let it offend you. "Best man?"
"I think that means we're supposed to sleep together."
You nearly spit out your sip of wine. There's no way the shy Spencer Reid you once knew just said that.
"We've done that." You reply, trying to keep a straight face after the out-of-pocket comment.
Spencer tilts his head to the side. "You're right."
You really don't know how it happens. Maybe it's a few too many drinks. There's definitely not enough alcohol in your bloodstream to solely blame that. Spencer Reid is as hot as they get. And it's been... longer than you're willing to admit since you've had sex. Even longer since it was good sex.
So there isn't anything telling you to stop when Spencer pushes you up against the door of a room in Rossi's house, lips firmly against yours.
Your dress is hiked up around your waist while his fingers trace up and down your thigh before he even thinks about locking the door. Both of you are far too wrapped up in the moment to think securely.
His hands are quick to the zip of your dress, sliding it down effortlessly and letting it pool at your feet. He takes a moment to look at you and you have to admit, you're a little worried about his reaction. You don't doubt Spencer Reid can pull beautiful women.
"God, you're gorgeous." He says softly, juxtaposing the way he's practically clawing your clothes off you.
"Are you going to compliment me or fuck me like you promised you would?" You ask him, waltzing over to the bed and sitting on the edge.
Spencer smirks at your smart mouth. "You asked for it."
He's kneeling on the floor in front of the bed in seconds, with no regard for his suit pants being wrinkled, just on his knees. There's a sense of urgency that doesn't allow for the time for him to take your panties off so he opts for shifting them to the side.
There's also no time to waste as his tongue melds with your folds, tracing patterns. No one has ever come close to giving head like Spencer does. It's truly mindblowing, the pressure of his tongue and the suction method he uses. You're instantly in bliss, head thrown back against the covers as you moan.
You've lost it when his fingers enter you, pushing past with little resistance. "Holy shit, Spencer. You're incredible."
"Sing my praises." He says against your pussy.
You do. Not even possessing the ability to be embarrassed about it.
And you don't stop. You're withering and moaning on the bed, tugging his curls while he continues pleasing you. Eventually, it's too much. His fingers pumping in and out of you combined with his tongue wrapped around your clit have you finishing in no time.
"Still as good as I remember." As if he couldn't get any hotter, he sucks his fingers into his mouth.
Spencer rises from his knees, now much taller than you. You tug your underwear off before unclipping your bra. "Fuck me, Spencer." You reach out for his belt buckle, toying with it. "Please."
Spencer has lost the shy, timid nature he had the first few times you had sex and he quickly takes off his belt and pants. Once his suit jacket is tossed across the room, Spencer pulls your legs to the end of the bed, making sure you wrap your ankles around his waist. His hands rest on either side of your head and you're precisely where you want to be.
"You're so hot." You tell him with a smirk.
He grins, spreading your legs and inching inside you. The look on his face is an instant confidence boost. Clearly, he's a man in bliss, head thrown back and tongue parting his lips.
"Fuck." He pants.
You agree, barely able to speak from how hard he's pounding you and how good it feels. Although it's annoying to admit, you've never had as good sex as with Spencer.
Your hands wrap around his forearms, noticeably bigger than last time. "Spencer." You moan. "Please. So good."
He caresses your chest, paying attention to your boobs like he hadn't before. "Y/n." He groans, not slowing his pace up. His hips snap against yours with each thrust, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing throughout the room. "Can I?" He asks.
It's unlike you to have even let him start without protection but you're not thinking straight enough. All you know is you need Spencer. "Please."
He finishes as deep inside you as he can get, leaning down to kiss you softly. You're breathless like he is when he flops down next to you.
One of Spencer's palms touches your cheek, forcing you to look at him rather than the ceiling. "Hey, pretty girl." He says softly and it makes your heart flip in a way it shouldn't. "Can I take you on a date, Y/n?"
The smile creeping onto your face can't be helped. "Yes. Please."
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clarionglass · 4 months
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here we go :) part one of three, updates to be released weekly!
---
sam says 4 (game master cinematic universe, part 3)
Ruby was at her mum's for a family dinner she couldn't miss on pain of death, apparently, and the Doctor was many things, but a family dinner kind of guy wasn't one of them—particularly when Carla had already slapped him once in the short time he'd known her. He thought he'd broken his streak of bad luck with mums, but… well, seemingly not. So he was companionless for a few hours, and while he could wait for her to get back, maybe catch up on his reading—what was the point of waiting when you had a time machine? 
He ran his hands over the TARDIS console, marvelling at her clean lines and metallic flourishes, the way that even now she felt brand new but familiar, and paused. He’d just pop off for a quick adventure, nothing too dangerous, but—where to go?
He could scan for a distress call nearby, and pitch in to help. He could drop in on Donna and Shaun and Rose, beautiful Rose, and see how they were all doing. Or he could just hit the randomiser button, and jump in feet first wherever he ended up.
He remembered a conversation from a long time ago, when he wore a different face, and his gorgeous TARDIS wore a face too, for the first and only time.
“You didn't always take me where I wanted to go.”
“No, but I always took you where you needed to go.”
He grinned. Who could resist an offer like that? He pressed the button and whooped as the time rotor spun into action, ready to see where the universe would take him.
---
Apparently, he was needed pretty close to where he already was. Earth, 2024. Huh. Same planet, same time—within a few months of where he’d left Ruby, even. The main thing that had changed was the location: he was now in the good old US of A. California, to be more specific, and Los Angeles to be more specific still. And to really narrow it down, the Doctor discovered as he poked his head out of the TARDIS doors, he was in… a broom closet. Not bad, as a parking spot—a bit squeezy, but out of the way. And as he poked his head out of that door, he could finally see he was in the backstage corridors of a studio of some kind. Film or TV, if he was to hazard a guess, it was a different vibe from Abbey Road.
With a shrug, he decided to go exploring.
It couldn’t have been more than a minute before a young woman wearing the full-black outfit, headset, and permanently stressed expression of a production assistant came running up to him.
“Are you the fill-in Sam organised?” she asked breathlessly, and honestly, seeing the look on her face, the Doctor didn’t have the heart(s) to tell her no. And really, what was the Doctor, if not a professional fill-in? This, this was why he had a randomiser button on the control panel, because whatever he was about to get himself into was going to be fun.
“Sure!”
“Oh, thank god,” sighed the production assistant, relief dawning across her face. “When Ally tested positive this morning, I thought we were sunk for the record, because we called around and we couldn’t get a hold of anyone. But then Sam said he could get someone in, and, you know, here you are, and just in time, so—ah, yeah, if you could follow me this way?”
Smiling all the way, the Doctor followed his guide through to hair and makeup, looking around as they went. The studio seemed to belong to a company called Dropout, according to the branding scattered around, and things seemed, at least on the surface, to be… well. Fine. He couldn't tell why he'd been brought here yet, which meant that when he found the reason, it was going to be particularly tangled. He couldn't wait! 
And then he looked back at his guide, still engulfed in a miasma of anxiety, and realised he'd been too busy looking for clues to notice the person right in front of him. 
“Hey, it's cool, you've found me,” he started with a gentle smile. “You can relax. Hi, I'm the Doctor. What's your name?”
“Oh!” she said, startled. “The Doctor, yeah, of course. Um, hi, I'm Kaylin. Look, sorry, it's just that I've been so busy this morning, I'm so distracted… Shit, and I would've completely forgotten to get your details too. There's paperwork to fill in, but you can do that later. Um, just for now, though, can I get your pronouns?”
The Doctor thought for a moment. “He/him, for now.”
Kaylin nodded, making a note on her phone. “Okay, cool! And do you have any socials?”
“Not me, babes,” he replied. “I'm hardly sitting down long enough to be able to update, you know?”
“On a day like this, I know exactly what you mean,” she said. “That's okay, Lou didn't have socials either for the longest time. Right, so if you go through there, the team will get you sorted, and once you're done, someone will take you up to the greenroom. All good?”
“All great,” the Doctor replied. Kaylin flashed him a quick, relieved smile, then hurried off.
Hair and makeup was a fairly quick process, the sound mixer fitted him with a microphone, and before too long, Kaylin was back to take him upstairs. 
“This is the greenroom,” she said, pushing the door open. “The rest of the cast for the episode are already here—they’re great guys, and they’ve both been on the show a lot, so they’ll be able to help if you’ve got questions. And if you need anything else, just come find me or any of the other PAs, okay?”
The Doctor nodded, beamed at Kaylin, and walked in.
---
The greenroom was small but comfortable, and its occupants, two men around the same age as the Doctor appeared, looked up as he entered.
“Oh, you’re new,” the taller of the pair said, clearly giving him the once-over.
The other sighed with a mixture of fondness and exasperation, just as clearly used to his friend’s antics.
“Hey, I’m Brennan,” he said, levering himself up to standing from his perch on a chair arm, and holding out a hand. “That’s Grant.”
The Doctor took it warmly. “The Doctor. Just passing through, and happy to help.”
Grant’s eyebrows quirked. “Doctor… something?” he prompted.
“Or is it just ‘the Doctor’?” Brennan asked.
“Just ‘the Doctor’,” the Time Lord confirmed cheerfully. “You’ll get used to it, everyone does.”
Grant didn’t look convinced, but—
“Copy that,” Brennan shrugged, and settled back on the arm of the chair, returning his gaze to the door.
Grant, in turn, looked at the Doctor and rolled his eyes in a clear expression of ‘no, I don’t know why he’s like this, either’.
“Okay,” the Doctor said after a moment of watching the watching. “I wasn’t going to ask, but now I think I have to. What’s up with the door?”
Brennan huffed a laugh. “Well, the last time there was one of those up—” he pointed to the Out of Order sign stuck to the bathroom door, “—we got locked in here for the game.”
“He’s paranoid,” Grant interjected.
“Well, yeah, maybe,” Brennan retorted. “Or just cautious. Because Sam’s been acting weird lately, and we’re coming up to the last few records of the season, so he’s probably planning something way out of the box for the finale. And the original cast was you, me and Beardsley, so…”
He shrugged one shoulder meaningfully, and Grant nodded, conceding both the point and the potential for chaos.
“So if Sam comes in to give us the briefing, rather than waiting til we’re on set,” Brennan continued, “or there’s anything else weird going on, I’m gonna know about it right from the beginning.”
He turned to the Doctor. “The only reason I'm not quizzing you is because I know for a fact Beardsley was genuinely scheduled for this, so you can't be a plant by the production team. No offence.”
“None taken,” the Doctor smiled. “That sort of thing happen often, does it?”
Grant and Brennan exchanged a look. 
“More than you'd think,” Grant answered with a grimace. 
“Alright,” the Doctor said slowly, then brightened. “So what is it we're actually doing?”
Grant gave him a disbelieving glance. “You don't know—?”
“Very last minute fill-in,” the Doctor said breezily. “But don't worry, I'm a quick study.”
“Well, you're not that much worse off than the rest of us,” Brennan said encouragingly. “You know about Game Changer, obviously, if you know Sam, and we only find out the rules of the game once we get on set. Hopefully,” he added, with a dark look back at the Out of Order sign. 
The Doctor nodded. No, he didn't know Sam, and he didn't know Game Changer, but he could work out the situation from context clues. This was a game show. And with the Toymaker banished, and Satellite Five not coming into existence for another 198000 years, give or take, he found himself smiling. Maybe third time would be the charm. 
“Mmm, hopefully they aren't going to throw you in the deep end,” Grant said. “Because Brennan might seem lovely now, but as soon as we get out there, he's a whore for points. He'll stab you in the back and won't even blink.”
Brennan barked with laughter. “Yeah, and you wouldn't?”
“Excuse you, I'm always a goddamn delight,” Grant replied, the very picture of injured dignity. 
“Oh, absolutely!” agreed a new voice. The Doctor turned to the now-open door to see a bearded man in a pinstriped suit smiling broadly. “That's why we keep inviting you back!”
Grant bowed sarcastically. “Why, thank you, Sam. Good to know I'm appreciated by someone here.”
“Always,” Sam replied, gently but firmly ending that particular path of the conversation. He scanned the room, and his eyes lit up when they landed on the Doctor. 
“Ah, you must be the Doctor!” he said with obvious delight, walking over with his hand outstretched. “I'm Sam—thanks for filling in for us, you've made sure we're going to have a good show. Seriously, it's a pleasure to have you here.”
“Aw, cheers!” the Doctor smiled, shaking the offered hand. “Glad I could help out, I'm really looking forward to this!”
“Well, great!” Sam exclaimed, then took a step back, regarding all three players in turn. “Now, folks, I'm just letting you know that we're just about ready to start the record, so if you can start heading down, that'd be great.”
Grant and Brennan nodded—Brennan, the Doctor noticed, with relief. 
“See you down there,” Sam said, smiling. “Have a great show, and—”
His eyes caught on the Doctor's for a second, twinkling. 
“Good luck.”
---
Backstage, the Doctor, Brennan and Grant were marshalled into podium order and given a final briefing from the crew. And then, with a thumbs-up from Kaylin, that was it.
Showtime.
“Get ready for a Game Changer!” came Sam's voice from onstage. “Tonight’s guests: he can shoot off a monologue with laser accuracy; it’s Brennan Lee Mulligan!”
Brennan, his back to the camera as the curtains opened, spun on his heel and, with a stone-cold expression, pointed finger guns straight down the barrel, before letting the facade crack open. “Hi!” he exclaimed, and walked over to the leftmost podium.
“It’s his first appearance, but he’s already on fire; it’s the Doctor!”
The Doctor leant against the archway to the stage and flashed a broad smile towards the camera, then in a few skipping steps, had bounded over to the next free podium. What the hell, why not make an entrance?
“And even in the toughest of mazes, you’ll always be able to find him; it’s Grant O’Brien!”
Grant dipped his lanky frame into an approximation of a curtsey, spreading his arms wide, then sauntered over to the closest podium with a grin.
“And your host, me!” Sam announced, a ring of manic white showing around his irises as he beamed down the barrel of the camera. “I’ve been here the whole time!”
“This,” he continued, pushing his microphone shut and stowing it in his jacket pocket, “is Game Changer, the only game show where the game changes every show. I am your host, Sam Reich!” 
As he said his name, he looked at his hands, front and back, as if he was pleasantly surprised to be himself, then gestured towards the three podiums.
“I am joined today by these three lovely contestants! Now, you understand how the game works.”
“Of course not,” Grant started. “You know we don't.”
“We can't, Sam, that's the whole point of the theatre you've set up here,” Brennan said over him. 
“Not yet,” was all the Doctor said, anticipation starting to drum a tattoo of excitement against the inside of his ribcage. 
“That’s right!” Sam said brightly, shooting finger guns at the camera. “Our players have no idea what game it is they’re about to play. The only way to learn is by playing. The only way to win is by learning, and the only way to begin is by beginning! So without further ado, let’s begin by giving each of our players fifty points.”
The Doctor, biding his time, watched the reactions of his fellow contestants. Grant looked at the front of his podium, checking the point total, and nodding approvingly when he saw that yes, it was sitting at a round fifty. Brennan, on the other hand, was starting to frown.
“Players, Sam says: touch your nose,” Sam began, and Brennan sighed the sigh of someone who wasn’t happy to be proved right.
“Oh, no,” he groaned. “Oh, you son of a bitch. Wasn’t one this season enough?”
He touched his nose anyway, as did the others, and Sam smiled encouragingly. “Sam says: touch your ear.”
When they all did, Sam nodded. “Touch your other ear.”
Everybody held still, fingers on the ears they had originally touched.
Sam beamed. “Easy, players, right?”
“You say that now,” Brennan said darkly. “Which makes it worse, because all you're doing is setting us up for failure.”
Sam gasped, pretending offence. “Would I do that?”
“Yes,” Brennan and Grant replied in unison, which drew a grin from the Doctor and set Sam off chuckling.
“And I'm not having it,” Brennan continued, leaning his elbows against his podium and pointing at Sam with the hand not touching his ear. “You better watch yourself, because I know how this game works, and you're not going to get one over on me.”
“Strong words, Brennan!” Sam said, clearly delighted by this response. “Okay, then, let's start making things a bit more interesting!”
The game continued as per Sam Says usual, some rounds done as a group and some individual. Points were won, sure, but lost slightly more frequently, and even the Doctor found he was having to concentrate to avoid getting caught in the host's traps. 
It was fun. Genuinely, it was like playing a game with friends, and the Doctor felt himself leaning into it. There wasn't any sign of danger—maybe there wasn't a mystery to solve at all, and the TARDIS just decided he needed a total break. 
Well, probably not. But the way things were going, he was able to let himself hope. 
“Alright, players,” Sam said a good few rounds in, just as pleasantly as he would start any other question, and the screen behind him dinged as a new prompt popped up. “Survive the death beam.”
For a second, everything was frozen perfectly still. 
And then came the crash, the explosive noise of heavy machinery moving relentlessly through a drywall set.
The Doctor was already moving. “Everyone down!”
“Duck!” Brennan yelled at the same time.
The two of them hit the ground within milliseconds of each other, but Grant was still paralysed in the face of the giant, science-fiction type laser cannon that had just ploughed through the wall. 
It whined ominously, screaming its way to fever pitch. And then a sharp pain in Grant’s ankle made him stagger, pitching forwards onto the carpet behind the podiums as the Doctor rolled away to avoid getting pinned.
“Sorry, babes,” the Doctor whispered. “But it was either kick you to get you down, or—”
A hideous metallic screech ripped through the air, and all three of them could feel the crackle of ozone as a beam of energy swept across what had, moments ago, been neck height.
“…Or that,” the Doctor finished with a grimace.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” Grant breathed, suddenly very conscious of every inch of his 6’9 frame. “Thanks.”
“Well done, players!” Sam exclaimed delightedly from above them. “But… sorry, I didn’t say ‘Sam says’, so that’s a point off for everyone.”
“What the fuck!” Brennan snapped.
“Are you actually insane?” Grant demanded at the same time, his voice overlapping with Brennan’s.
In response, Sam just wheezed with laughter. “You can come back to your podiums,” he said, cheerfully ignoring them.
Nobody moved.
“Very good!” he acknowledged, and even without seeing his face, the grin was obvious in his voice. “Okay, Sam says: come back to your podiums.”
Although the words were innocuous, and his tone was just as light and breezy as usual, there was nevertheless an edge hiding just underneath the surface. And while the death beam loomed large in the minds of all three players, it was impossible to consider disobedience as an option.
Slowly, they stood, returning to their places. Now they had the time to look at it properly, the death beam was even more sinister, and Brennan and Grant both kept flicking nervous glances its way, ready to move if it looked like it was charging up again.
The Doctor, however, was focused purely on the man standing in front of them. Unbothered, Sam met his gaze like a challenge, a mischievous smile playing about his lips.
“Oh, you’ll love this one,” he said, and the screen changed. “Sam says, starting with Grant: say my name.”
Grant frowned in confusion, but answered quickly nonetheless. “Sam Reich?”
The man himself shrugged tolerantly, moving on. “Brennan?”
Brennan just stared at him coolly. “Do you take me for a fool?”
“Well caught, Brennan!” Sam said happily. “Sam says: say my name.”
“Sam,” Brennan replied, suspicion clear in his voice. “Samuel Dalton Reich.”
He nodded, still with a hint of indifference. “And lastly, Doctor.” His smile broadened. “Sam says: say my name.”
It was easy. Too easy. And as the Doctor looked into the eyes of the man calling himself Sam Reich, he felt his hearts stutter in recognition, because something had changed. He wasn’t hiding himself anymore, and while the face was different yet again, the Doctor would know the shape of that soul anywhere. It was impossible. It was inevitable.
“You can’t be,” he breathed. 
Sam smirked, leaning in across his podium. “Oh, but Doctor… I’ve been here the whole time,” he stage-whispered with a wink.
“He said you lost,” the Doctor said, shaking his head, looking wrong-footed for the first time that Brennan and Grant could recall. “You lost, and he trapped you.”
The other two watched, uncomprehending, but Sam just smiled, drumming his fingers against the podium with an audible beat, fast but distinct. Four taps, four taps, four taps. “I’m waiting.”
The Doctor took a slow, deep breath. Set his jaw. 
“Master.”
---
missed an installment of the game master cinematic universe?
original idea by @ace-whovian-neuroscientist: x
art by @northernfireart concept: x scissor sisters sketch: x sam and his doppelganger: x
writing by me (!) part one (escape the greenroom): x part two (deja vu): x part three (sam says 4): you are here!
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steddiealltheway · 1 year
Text
"You're dead, Harrington!"
Steve sprints off down the hall, making a sharp left turn in hopes of losing him. He looks around at the doors, eyes settling on the drama room. Yeah, no one would guess that he would go in there.
He runs and easily pulls the door open, softly closing it behind him, leaning against the door to listen for Billy.
"You can't run from me!" he yells, somewhere outside in the hallway.
Shit.
Steve backs up a bit until he runs into something, and suddenly there's a hand covering his mouth with rings digging into his cheek while a bit of silver glints in his eyes. "Don't freak out, Harrington. I'm here to help. Hide behind the red curtain."
The guy lets him go, and Steve whips around taking in the guy everyone calls "The Freak." He just raises his eyebrows at him, so Steve takes the hint and darts behind the red curtains behind a throne of some kind.
There's a slight creaking, then Steve hears the door swing open and slam against the wall.
"Billy Hargrove. I didn't know you were interested in theatre," the freak says smugly. Eddie? That's his name, right?
"I'm not," Billy grits out. "I'm looking for Harrington. Seen him anywhere, freak?"
"Why would he be in here?"
Steve hears heavy footsteps as he walks closer to the curtain. "That's not what I asked," Billy says darkly.
"Well, I answered, didn't I?" Eddie replies, voice low with an undertone of danger. Shit, Steve didn't know he had it in him. "If you're so dense, then let me clarify. I haven't seen him. Now get lost or you'll never find him before lunch is over."
There's a pause, and Steve is certain that a fight is about to break out. Only, nothing really happens until Billy says, "One day you're going to pay for that, freak."
"Looking forward to it," Eddie says sarcastically.
A few seconds later and the door closes. There's a click that sounds like the lock turning which has Steve peeking out of the curtain.
"You can come out now."
Steve steps outside the curtain slowly, making sure this isn't some sort of sick joke. But he doesn't think Billy is that much of a planner, he's too impulsive.
When he doesn't spot him, Steve says, "Thanks. It's Eddie, right?"
The other boy looks surprised and even gets a small smile on his face. "Yeah."
"I'm Steve," he introduces himself, sticking out his hand and everything.
He gets a scoff and a, "Yeah, I know," in response, but Eddie still takes his hand and shakes it.
"I like your rings," Steve says genuinely. They're cool really. He wishes he would wear something like that without his parents and teammates getting onto him about it.
"Thanks," Eddie says, pulling a bit of his hair in front of his hair. It's cute really, almost like he's flustered.
Huh. He'll unpack that thought later.
"How did you get Billy to back off like that? I've never seen anyone do that." He can't help but be in a bit of awe about the whole thing.
Eddie chuckles. "I supply his weed. He knows better than to hurt me."
"Mabe I should start selling him weed then."
Eddie laughs loudly, showing off his dimples. Steve can't help but smile back.
"Hey," Eddie says, making his way to the throne and sitting back. "What did you do to get him that riled up anyways?"
Steve groans and takes a seat at the table in front of Eddie. "I know his little sister, Max. I just asked him how she was doing, and he freaked out. I think he misunderstood my tone."
Eddie laughs again, and Steve starts to believe that maybe the whole thing was worth it to see the boy's smile.
A silence settles between them, but Steve doesn't mind. It gives him a chance to look at him more.
It must fluster Eddie again because he ducks his head down and shakes his head.
"What?" Steve can't help but ask.
Eddie looks back at him. "Nothing, I just can't believe that Steve Harrington is sitting at my D and D table."
D&D... "Oh, that's like Dungeons and Dragons, right?"
Eddie's jaw drops. "You know what Dungeons and Dragons is?"
Steve shrugs. "My friend plays it, but he's in middle school, so you wouldn't know him. But hey, that's where the demogorgan thing comes from, right?"
Eddie continues to stare at him in disbelief mumbling something under his breath like He's friends with middle schoolers, and he knows what a demogorgan is. What the hell? Am I dreaming? He shakes his head and says clearly, "Yeah, yeah, that's where the Demogorgan comes from."
Another silence settles between them, and Steve doesn't know why he says it but he asks, "So, do you have a girlfriend?"
Once again, it looks like Eddie is about to have a meltdown, but Steve stands his ground. He's curious really.
Eddie shifts in his seat a bit uncomfortably before quietly asking, "Haven't you heard the rumors?"
Steve leans back in his seat and scratches his face absentmindedly. He's heard about "The Freak" before, but he didn't really pay much attention. He knows he sells weed. He failed senior year once or twice, he forgot how many times people said. And he once heard that he's a...
Oh.
"So, do you have a boyfriend then?"
Eddie freezes, fear evident all over his tense body.
"It's fine if you do," Steve assures him.
Eddie runs both his hands over his face and questions out loud, "Am I dreaming?"
"Do you dream about me often?" Steve flirts, leaning forward on the table. He can't help it, he likes how affected Eddie is by him.
Eddie looks at him for a solid fifteen seconds, tongue running over his top lip and brows furrowed in deep thought. He relaxes against his chair with a sigh. "You're not at all what people say you are."
Steve shrugs, uncomfortable that the topic has turned to be about him. "I try not to be."
"It's a good thing," Eddie says.
Steve smiles. He didn't know how much he needed to hear that.
The bell rings, and Steve feels a pang of disappointment.
"Hey," Eddie says as he stands up alongside Steve. He reaches into his black metal lunchbox and pulls out a sandwich in a little bag and a banana. He tears the sandwich in half and offers it to Steve along with the banana. "It isn't much, but I doubt you ate lunch. Have to keep all our star players in shape, right?" he asks with a wink.
Steve wishes he could stay longer to see him relax more. He takes them both, unpeeling the banana quickly while asking, "Is that weed in there?"
"Among other things."
Steve laughs and takes a large bite of the banana that has Eddie looking away, turning a light shade of red. Now he really wishes he could stay longer.
He finishes his bite and says, "Hey, it was really nice to meet you by the way."
"You too," Eddie says with a soft smile, finally looking back at him.
The warning bell rings.
Steve sighs. "I'll see you around, and hey, pass on a word to the next D and D leader about Dustin Henderson, will you?"
"Will do," Eddie says, and Steve's glad that it sounds like a promise.
He heads to the door and unlocks it quickly, pausing to rush back and press a soft kiss on Eddie's cheek. "Thank you again," he says before rushing out of the room with his heart pounding and a blush spreading over his face.
He can't help but think that he should thank Billy for being such an asshole.
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zayneslady · 8 months
Note
hey!! loved that angst fic you wrote xx can i request the boys reaction to when the reader/mc and them are in an argument, and they accidentally said something extremely hurtful and it made reader cry. make the boys regret it so much pls hehe😼 thank you 💗
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warnings: angst, open ending again hehe and again, reader is not MC
characters: Zayn, Xavier, Rafayel x reader (separately)
a/n: my first request *-* thank you so much! This exact trope is one of my favorites. I hope you enjoy it! Get your tissues ready! Also thank you to everyone's support in my first post! I'm so happy! ❤️
Classification: scenarios
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ZAYNE ❄️
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You didn't want to admit it, but you were sick. During the day you felt a little sore in your throat and your nose was stuffy. Arriving at Zayne's house after work, it was more than obvious that you had a fever. Your face was red and the chills running through your body made you shiver. 
There was nothing else to do, you would miss work tomorrow to fully recover. Furthermore, with the care of your loving doctor, you knew you'd be fine in no time. So you quickly took a shower and after drying your hair, you grabbed a blanket and curled up on the couch with a cold patch on your forehead, waiting for Zayne patiently. 
To your surprise, he arrived at a normal time and your heart vibrated with joy when you saw him enter. He had his head low as he stepped out of his shoes and closed the door behind him. 
"Zayne! Welcome back! How was your day?” You greeted him as he shrugged his coat off. “Guess what," you said, giggling softly because it was quite obvious by your funny voice that you were sick. "I got a little sick after yesterday's ra- 
You jumped a little when Zayne suddenly groaned, whipping his head up to look at you. “Oh my Lord,” he said, annoyed. “Can't you see I'm fucking tired? You do not know when you shut your damned mouth? I can't stand you! Why are you so clingy?” 
Your eyes widened and your face turned bright red. Your mind went blank and you didn't notice the tears streaming down your face until Zayne's face changed from complete anger to guilt. He looked at you from the door as if he didn't know what had happened just now. He didn't recognize himself. How did he dare to talk to you like that when you-
He gasped softly, “you're sick.”
You tried to clean your tears with your hands as you got up from the couch. Zayne made an attempt to come close to you, but you quickly ran to the bedroom only to come back after a couple of minutes with your shoes and coat on. 
“Excuse me,” you said, as you approached the door. 
“What? Where are you going like this? You need to rest.”
You nodded, trying to keep some distance from him. “I know. I'll rest back home. So please move.”
“Stay here. I'll take care of you,” he grabbed your hand and more tears fell down. How could he talk so sweetly right now after what he said. 
You shook your head, pulling your hand away and pushing him aside so you could open the door. “I don't need you, Zayne. Not when you can't stand me.”
“I was wrong, please.”
“I was wrong too. Goodbye, Zayne.”
XAVIER ⭐
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“My poor Xavier,” you mumbled, gently cleaning a wound in Xavier's side. You winced when he did and your heart broke. You knew perfectly well that this could happen because of his line of work, but you felt terrible every time he came home hurt. “Oh, Xav, is it too painful?” You asked as you started to bandage him. 
He shook his head, breathing heavily and resting his head against the pillow on his bed. “It could be worse. Thank you for helping out.” 
“No need to thank me,” you said, smiling at him as you placed a tender and loving hand over his now bandaged wound. “I wish you didn't have to do this. It's so dangerous.” 
Your words had no poison. You clearly didn't want Xavier to suffer in any way. Why couldn't he have a regular, safe job? Maybe he's just strong because he has to protect everyone. You said those words from the bottom of your warm heart, so you were more than surprised to hear Xavier's response:
“What? Are you saying I'm weak?” He spat and you blinked. 
“N-No! I'm just saying that I wish you had another job because- 
“Is that so? So you rather have a bunch of wanderers attacking innocent people? Just because you don't want me to get hurt?” 
“It's- It's not like that! I never said that. I just get worried sick for you and-
“Maybe I should really stop, huh? Just turn a blind eye to everything that's happening like egoist people like you di.”
He just kept vomiting out words, one harsher than the last. Every time you tried to speak and fix this misunderstanding, his irrational words drowned out your voice and it made something heavy and nauseating settle in your stomach. This was not going to end well in any way. 
“Xavier, my love, please listen to me. I do not- 
“Maybe one day a wanderer will actually kill you. And believe me, I won't even bat an eye at you,” he said, crossing his arms and turning his head away from you. 
Your eyes had never filled with tears as quickly as that moment. Your body began to shake with suppressed sobs as you felt heat and disappointment throughout your body. Did Xavier just... wish for your death? And in the hands of a creature as horrible as a wanderer? 
“Oh no,” he suddenly said and you flinched when you felt his touch against your cheek. “I am so, so sorry.” You cried a little harder before getting up from his bed. “W-Wait, my star. Please, I'm sorry.”
No words came out. You simply grabbed your bag and left the room.
He called your name and then groaned in pain as he tried to move. “Pl-please, come back! Where-
You couldn't hear more of his words as you closed the door of his apartment. Did this mean the end? You truly thought so. 
Rafayel 🐠
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"Ah, welcome back, Rafayel!" The amount of excitement that rushed through your body whenever your eyes landed on him was almost overwhelming. It wasn't that you hadn't seen him in a long time, but a second without him felt like a century. 
His eyes, usually warm and sparkling, looked cold and even angry at seeing you in his house. "Hello," he said dryly as he closed the door behind him. You frowned slightly. "What are you doing here?" 
"Hmm, nothing much. I just wanted to visit you. Is that alright?" 
He sighed, placing a paper bag on the table. "Yeah, sure. I gave you a key after all."
You cleared your throat, nodding awkwardly. "Did... you have a good day?" 
He sighed again and shook his head as he stepped out of his shoes. "I didn't. It was terrible for the very first moment I opened my eyes. You see," he started and you nodded, listening carefully. "I overslept so I lost precious time for my painting. Then I didn't have time to eat so I didn't eat anything but a piece of bread."
You immediately got up to make dinner for him, maybe after eating he'd feel better? 
"And the worst thing was," he said, collapsing onto his couch. "I couldn't find my emerald green paint so I had to go all the way to the art store and get a new one! Ugh!" 
You blinked, frowning a little. "Your emerald green?" 
"That's what I said."
"Hmm, I'm very sure I put it in all of your greens?" You left the ingredients aside as you walked to the paints. "Here it is." 
He got up and looked at you with an astonished expression. Confusion quickly turned into anger and he was yelling at you in a second. "Why didn't you tell me?!"
"You saw me last night!" You explained, carefully leaving the paint back in place. "You said you wanted your paints to be more organized and I asked you if I could help you out! You even told me you liked how I organized it by colors!" 
Rafayel let out a frustrated sigh as a hand carded through his hair. "I can't believe I just lost all of that precious time because of your stupid mistake!"
"Excuse me?"
"Every time you try to help, you just mess things up! Can't you keep your little hands to yourself for once? I was just stupid for letting you help me out! You are way too much, I can't stand you sometimes.”
You were stunned. He had never said anything like that about you, you couldn't even remember other times when you wanted to help him and you ruined it. Besides, it wasn't your fault. The green paint was there all along and he just hadn't taken the time to look for it properly.
You knew it wasn't your fault, but his harsh words and the anger and hatred in his eyes were too much. Tears quickly filled your eyes and began to fall down your reddened cheeks. 
Rafayel realized his mistake a bit too late. Letting out a gasp as he watched the first tear fall, he hurriedly approached you, but you backed away, putting space between the two of you. He couldn't say anything, too surprised by his own words.
What was just a moment seemed like minutes, endless hours with deafening silence. Only your sobs echoed around the entire house, until your voice, small and trembling, made him jump. 
“I won't touch your stuff again, Rafayel,” you said softly, avoiding his eyes. 
“N-No, I didn't mean-
You nod, “if you don't mind, I'll sleep in your guest room. Goodnight, Rafayel.”
Deep inside you so desperately wanted him to stop you, but he watched you disappear into the hall and never called you back.
You knew it was going to be a very cold night.
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Text
TW: Irrational jealousy
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"Here. You left this at my apartment"
Stealing your gaze from the book, you look at your boyfriend who's holding a wine red lacy bra in his hands, stretching it toward you. Unlike his usual attitude, GOJO doesn't look much lively at the moment. In fact, he looks somewhat... meticulous, like he's operating a very dangerous experience and is about to witness the outcome of his efforts.
Having your eyebrows knotted together, you wordlessly take the bra in your hands, the base of your fingers gently but painfully rubbing against the soft fabric. Gojo tries his best not to let his smirk break out when you give him a quizzical look and squeeze the lingerie in your hands.
"This isn't mine"
There it is. Victory. The awaitened result of his brilliant plan to give you a taste of your medicine.
Gojo cups his mouth while expanding his fingers to give you a better look of his fake gasp through the gap between them, humming abruptly. He carefully takes a second look at the bra, then begins to mutter in a not so low voice.
"Ah— well, this is awkward" He looks at your bewildered expression from the corner of his eye and continues. "I didn't want you to find out. Not this way"
The logic behind this clever act was easy to understand. You chose to spend your day offs with your stupid, lame old friend from college instead of your incredible, handsome, mind blowingly gorgeous boyfriend, and this is your punishment. Your reasoning was too dumb and made up. Huh, how could you even look him in the eye and say you're doing this because he's just gotten back from Austria and needs you to show him around town and introduce him to your colleagues? You should've just shoved a dagger in his aching heart and told him that you dont love him anymore. So yes, you deserve this; and as they all say, revenge is a dish best served cold.
"But you see, I'm not the only one to blame in this. You are too. You were the one who left me in the dark hanging to go on a romantic getaway with that good for nothing punk"
"Satoru—"
"Let me finish. I know that it was just for three days and you did nothing but work together, but I'm a man y/n! A proud, strong grown man who has his own needs"
"Satoru—"
"I'm not an animal y/n, but how do you expect me to close my eyes and pretend like nothing's wrong? Because it is, and since I'm also an honest man, I couldn't bare with the feeling of getting abandoned by my own woman. You and I were supposed to rule the world, but you never wanted what we were—"
"Satoru!!"
Gojo grits his teeth and looks at you with slight irritation, wondering what's so important that has to interrupt his dramatic show; but his liveliness and acting power vanishes in a glance when his eyes land on the part of the bra you're pointing at while holding it up.
"There's a price tag on this"
Oh.
The small, round label is linked to the inside of the bra, which is probably why Gojo had forgotten to remove it. Yes, it was totally that; not because he was too focused on his dialogues that he forgot to even check the bra out.
Gojo stares at your jumped up eyebrows and annoyed expression, flashing you one of his most charming smiles; Only this time he can't make it as shameless as it usually is.
"Eh, I guess this shows how much I actually love you and care about you"
"You bought this two sizes bigger than mine you asshole"
"My bad, I kinda got carried away"
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bokettochild · 3 months
Text
Just saw the update!
So, first thoughts!
Gremlin Legend and Sky is something I am LIVING for. Sky's little look of approval as he stands between Wars and Legend after that little move is sending me!
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(Wild is not impressed)
I also really love that JoJo played with Warriors' cape/scarf being capable of doing that, which is a major risk btw, but I love that we see it's potential now!
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Like, Legend's timing is perfect (and I love that this confirms the Legend v. Wars dynamic we all love) especially considering Hyrule was literally talking about the same thing and you'd THINK Captain-War-Hero over here would be more cautious because of it (although the fact this implies Legend doesn't trigger Warriors danger sense is GREAT for the fluff fic writers like me!)
Time and Wars looking like disappointed parents though is brilliant
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(Warriors with messy hair is so funny to me, help)
The continued portrayal of Time being too harsh with the boys, all tense after what happened to Twilight, that's great. i'm glad the consequences of past events are following them, it really makes this all feel linear!
I also am ALL HERE for the boys finding their differences! Warriors and Wild both admitting to being new to dungeon crawling and the monsters involved is a great thing we've all been playing with in fics, but making it cannon feels like validation :)
Also, Warriors being defensive of that, and maybe a bit prickly about their judgement, I think it shows a lot of him. he's got his pride,a although he's learned to tame it. He's feeling a bit miffed to realize how different he is, but doesn't want them seeing him as lesser as well (although they never would). I can also hear him using a clipped military sort of tone when speaking here. It's just the way his words are selected and strung together that makes it seem he's being very to the point, direct, and cold in his tone, which really sells the whole difference between a soldier and the "average nobody" that the rest of them were (ironic, since he's trying to act like the difference isn't a big deal but only further accentuates it this way).
Twilight being pleased that Epona is fine and just enjoying a meal made me grin so big though. He's all worried for his girl but she is, quite literally, happy as a horse over there LOL
Also, this bit:
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recognition for Sky's right-handedness, my beloved! (JoJo is giving us all the easter eggs!)
The fact that the passage is too small to let them all fight though is a brilliant way of preventing some of our heavy hitters and more skilled heroes from being able to do anything though!
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I like how that gives us the chance to see Time one-shot the foe and also gives him the impression that the rest are maybe not skilled enough to do this alone. WE all know they are, but they're a handicap to each other right now, and it's only further cementing in his mind that they're not ready for all this, which will make his overbearing speech and the judgement he casts on them in combat all the more an issue.
I mean, we all know the hero's shade was like that, but JoJo has shown Time acting this way from the start
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(Deep Shadows P.2)
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(Likelike)
So I guess we're in for more of that now, and most likely someone (probably Legend, as it's usually him, or Wind, who is very aware of judgement from teh rest) is definitely going to have to call him on it soon, maybe in the dungeon. Will that lead to some bonding with Time where he has to admit he cares and worries about them as though they're his own? I hope so!
Anyways, all this to say, we really are seeing how much they struggle to work together, so hopefully this dungoen will teach them all how to do that better, as Time mentioned earlier
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(Dawn p.8)
Now, to finish it off!I would like to thank JoJo for giving us so many beautiful shots of Twi this time around. I'll admit it now, he's pretty darn fine <3
That said, I'm loving the Legend content too! i hope we get to see some more starring moments from him going forwards, what with him being the dungeon veteran and all! It's great seeing his childish/playful side these last few updates, but I'm really craving some veteran Legend right now >:)
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rpclefairy · 10 months
Text
𝐁𝐆𝟑 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬.
a selection of lines from the various companions' banter quotes (not cut scene dialogues!) from baldur's gate 3. these are generally spoiler free and non context specific so they can apply to different settings and dynamics! feel free to change names and the like to customize the prompts.
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“Death can't have me. Not yet…”
“Calm yourself. There is plenty of me to go around.”
“Realmspace is vast. Countless worlds to be mapped, kingdoms to be conquered.”
“I have missed this. The adventure. The danger. The kicking of butts!
“Let me guess - you need something.”
“Such attention.. I never realised I was so popular.”
“Let's cook with fire, baby.”
“Do you intend to vocalise every thought?. Or just the most obvious ones?”
“Wherever we go, ye gods let there be something green.”
“Careful, or I will take your toy away from you.”
“Watch your elders and learn.”
“Perhaps try attacking the enemy?”
“So much we don't know, lingering in the furthest reaches of existence.”
“All the world's my stage and you're just a player in it.”
“The shadows are my friend.”
“Yes, yes, have your fun. It isn't you they're trying to kill.”
“Feet planted firmly on Faerûn, please.”
“Admirable stamina, yet terrible priorities.”
“Well you certainly have the 'omnipresent' part down, don't you?”
“I am ready, whatever may come.”
“My faith protects me.”
“Need a throat slitting?”
“Death greets us all - but not today.”
“You need my expertise?”
“Can you feel death's cold grip?”
“So many stars, so many mysteries yet to be discovered.”
“Death comes quietly.”
“And I thought we were going to be friends.”
“Locked tight, but there must be some way to open it.”
“No, you can't die. Get up, damn you!
“You had my attention, now you have my fury.”
“From silence to suffering.”
“So many worlds out there. You'd need a thousand lifetimes to see them all - more.”
“I hope this is important. For your sake.”
“Let them gaze deep into their own abyss, and wonder just what it is they are trying to achieve.”
“I ought to just burn this whole thing down.”
“We have slightly more pressing matters to attend to.”
“You have still have time to surrender.”
“Every kicked buttock, another step on the path.”
“Weave save me. I can't take much more…
“You are right to fear me.”
“Let me look around. Might be something that'll help me crack this thing.”
“Incredible, to think how many worlds exist beyond this tiny speck within a speck I call home.”
“I really wish I could cast a Hold spell on you.”
“I can fawn over my face later.”
“Ready for another round?”
“Keep your blade close.”
“I can't unlock it from here, but there must be a switch or a button somewhere…”
“No, that's not moving. There must be a way to open it somewhere.”
“Battle favours the fearless.”
“Sleep with one eye open, evil. Maybe both.”
“Gotta be something around here to unlock this thing.”
“Why do beautiful people taste better?. It hardly seems fair on the ugly - they have such wonderful personalities.”
“Oh, calm down. I'm happy to see you too.”
“Just go for the Magic Missile and fire away. Never fails.”
“Still standing, no matter what you heard.”
“Enough waiting. I crave blood.”
“Hang on - I won't allow this. You aren't dead, go it?”
“GODS, it's HOT in here!”
“No rest for the wicked, I see.”
“Better to hide than fight, sometimes.”
“Would that I could hide from you, too.”
“Are you feeling lonely, perhaps?”
“There is no right or wrong, only truth.”
“Battle is afoot - you can poke me once we are safe.”
“What good all this ethereal eladrin blood if I can still get pimples?”
“I should've been a drow. They have such stylish armour.”
“I am armed! Armoured! And entirely sick of your foolishness.”
“Let's have some fun.”
“War is an old woman's game.”
“No rest, be you wicked or wise.”
“I'm getting too old for this nonsense.”
“I would poke you back, but I fear that's what you want.”
“You have my attention - now do something with it.”
“You are insistent, are you not?”
“Do what must be done.”
“Your suffering will be spectacular.”
“Lest I sit down for a rest and not rise again.”
“Better to look evil in the eye. Even if it be very small.”
“I'm not built to crouch.”
“I think I could go another round.”
“Always the same old song.”
“Is perfection too much to ask?”
“Eyes on victory, tummy on dinner.”
“So many places to be.. and I chose Baldur's Gate.”
“I'm not opening that. Not from here, at any rate.”
“What is the point, if not victory?”
“Won't last much longer like this.”
“Let's hope the locals are friendly.”
“Let us show them how it's done.”
“Weapons high. Standards higher.”
“Must everyone be so exhausting?”
“What I would not give for a chunk of fresh honeycomb…”
“Which way to the nearest library?”
“Now this is my happy place.”
“Who shall I silence?”
“Stop, or die.”
“Wear your scars proudly.”
1K notes · View notes
dandylovesturtles · 5 months
Note
Using a random number generator for the angst prompts: 20 Starved + 30 Dangerous Temperatures
... and Leo, of course.
OH GOD OK
uh so. I had an idea. and I decided to write it for this ask I got forever ago. And then, uh.
it really
really got out of hand.
This is a pretty dark fic (even for me) and at the current moment in time it is hurt/no comfort. I do intend to write a part 2, probably tomorrow, but as of the time I'm typing this author's note I've been writing for around 5+ hours straight and I need to take a break! So please, if you don't want to read all this without the comfort included, feel free to wait for the next part before reading! I'll link it and the end once it's posted.
Content warnings: Kidnapping, confinement, psychological torture, nonconsensual voyeurism (I guess this is the best way to put this; Leo isn't doing anything sexual but it's still violating), mild violence, HEAVY ANGST, Leo just having the shittiest time possible.
I HOPE?? YOU ENJOY??? hahahaha....
btw this is set between S2 and the movie (though tbh its canon compliance is... /waves hand)
-----
When Leo imagined himself getting captured by some kind of shady, quasi-governmental agency intent on imprisoning mutants, it was never anything like this.
When he let his mind go there, he always pictured that he would be strapped to a table. Maybe muzzled. That scientists would stand over him, scalpels and drills in hand, and start to take him apart. That they'd examine him piece by piece, and wouldn't give him any anesthesia while they did it.
But there is no table, no muzzle, no restraints at all. He's just in a room.
Well, a cell, technically - the steel door is locked, and there are no windows, no furniture but a bare cot in one corner and a lone toilet in another. But it doesn't really look like a cell. It looks like a room.
A very, very white room. White walls. White ceiling. White tiles (with white grout, even). The toilet is white, a roll of white toilet paper on the floor next to it. The only things that aren't white are the cot and the door and Leo himself.
They took his gear and his weapons, because of course they did. Since the door is steel, he already knows he's not breaking it down; he gives it a half-hearted slam anyway, just to say he tried. He should be able to just portal out, except he hasn't learned how to use his portals without his swords to channel his ninpo through, and there's nothing in here with him that he can use to make new ones.
So he's stuck. He's going to have to wait until someone opens that door for some reason. Or, of course, until his family swings by to pick him up. Though, if possible, he'd like to escape before that happens. The image in his mind, of sitting outside his cell and grinning at them as they arrive to rescue him, is too cool to pass up.
He's not sure how long it's been already. He knows that they knocked him out after ambushing him, and he doesn't know how long he was unconscious. The heavy molasses feel of his head and arms when he woke up suggests that he was drugged. It's wearing off now, though, which means he has a clear head to take in the all of nothing that's in the room with him.
He sits on the cot he woke up on and waits for something to happen.
There's no way for him to tell time, but he thinks it's an hour or so later when there's a sudden beep, and then the sound of a metal panel sliding up. It's a slot near the door that has just opened - inside the revealed alcove is a bottle of water.
He comes to it curiously, taking a long look around the bottle. The slot doesn't open straight through, and even if it did, it's not big enough for anything more than his arm or a foot to fit through. He thinks it must function like an airlock, or maybe they slid the bottle down from somewhere above - he feels around just in case, and finds that the slot is enclosed on all sides but his. Probably his airlock theory, then.
As soon as he removes the bottle, the panel slams shut again.
"You're really determined to keep me in here, huh?" he says to whatever hidden cameras are watching him. He carries the water bottle back to his cot, but doesn't open it, instead setting it down on the floor by the wall. The paranoid part of his brain, the one that doesn't miss a trick, is reminding him that drinking the water is probably a bad idea. Who knows what they might have put in it?
He sits on the cot for awhile longer. Still, nothing happens.
"I'm getting pretty bored in here," he says for the audience that must be somewhere. "Come on, you have a one of a kind turtle in here, and you don't even want to talk to me?"
Time passes, slow and quiet. Leo goes through periods where his anxiety spikes and he starts to wonder if he's been abandoned by whoever brought him here, before the boredom eventually numbs the anxiety back out. Another bottle of water is eventually delivered, and this one he keeps in his hands after retrieving it. It's completely unlabeled, not even a "Use by" date printed on the bottle itself, so it doesn't provide much mental stimulation. He spins the bottle to make little whirlpools inside, because it's something to do.
He's trying to make the fastest whirlpool he can when he hears a sudden click, different from the beep of the water bottle hole, and he looks up just in time to see a large section of the wall in front of him turn black, and then light up to show the room beyond his cell.
He jolts, setting the bottle aside. He knew they must be watching him, but somehow he didn't catch that part of the wall was a whole window.
His audience isn't very large - five people, unless there are others he can't see. Two wear lab coats, two wear fatigues... but the one who comes to stand directly in front of the window is wearing a black suit, with steel rimmed glasses. He leans forward, and speaks into a small microphone.
"Inmate 24365," says the suited man. "I am Agent Bishop, of the Earth Protection Force. My subordinates tell me that you can speak and understand the English language. Is this correct?"
"Qué?" Leo asks.
Bishop does not look amused. "Inmate 24365," he says, "you have two options. You can cooperate with me, answer my questions, and we will make your stay here more comfortable. Do not cooperate, and we will make your stay uncomfortable. Do you understand?"
Leo pretends to hem and haw over this. "How comfortable are we talkin'?"
"I'm sure you would like some dinner."
"You know, I'm not really hungry." He says it to be difficult, but it's actually true - the uncertainty of the situation has put his stomach in too many knots to want to eat anything. "Maybe if you offer me some comic books? Or a TV?
To Bishop's credit, his face doesn't so much as twitch. He keeps his steely eyes locked on Leo. "Answer our questions, and you will receive food. Do you understand?"
Leo stays noncommittal. "What are the questions?"
He's expecting Bishop to ask about his family. He's not expecting what comes next.
"How many gateways are there between New York City and the hidden yokai enclave?" he asks. "How are these gateways accessed? What kind of defensive capabilities do the yokai have?"
Leo keeps the surprise off his face. Bishop thinks he's a yokai.
This is, overall, a good development. Bishop might not know about Leo's family, then, or at least not know that they live on the surface. This means the Earth Protection Force likely isn't pursuing his brothers, which means they will be safe until they can help Leo get out of here.
He doesn't let the relief show through, either. Bishop doesn't know anything, and now Leo just has to ride out the next few hours until the calvary arrives.
"You know," he says, "I think I'm good with my current levels of comfort."
If Bishop is mad or frustrated or dismayed by this choice, he doesn't show it. His expression stays stony as he stares in at Leo, sizing him up.
"Very well," he says after a few more seconds. "I will see you tomorrow, then."
The window goes dark, and then turns stark white to match the walls. Leo wants to go over and tap at it, see if it feels different when he touches it, but knowing that Bishop is surely still there, watching him, keeps him rooted to the cot.
He goes back to making whirlpools with the bottle. If they aren't going to entertain him, he isn't going to entertain them, either.
-----
Another water bottle comes some time after his talk with Bishop. He finally opens this one and takes a cautious sip. Nothing tastes off or strange, so he drinks more. They don't want to feed him, but they're fine keeping him hydrated. No reason to stay thirsty, then.
He wishes the water calmed the anxiety still roiling in his stomach, but if anything it just makes him feel even more energized. He bounces his foot and surveys his room again, looking for any weak spots or access points. He can't see anything, though, other than the areas where he knows the water bottle hole and window are; even the vents that relentlessly blow cold air into the room are well hidden.
Knowing that there are people standing just outside his cell watching him, like some kind of zoo animal, puts him on edge. The window is so big that he's pretty sure the only blind spots are either directly underneath it or right by the door on the same wall. After debating it, he leaves his cot and sits on the floor underneath the window, surveying the room from a different angle now and still coming up empty. At least they're going to have a harder time staring at him.
His eyes catch on the toilet in the corner, directly across from the window. It's not in the blind spot, and realizing this makes his insides lurch uncomfortably - hopefully he has a chance to bust out before using it becomes necessary.
Though, he's not sure when that chance is going to come. If they have a slot to pass him water, they could use that to pass him food, too, so it's unlikely that anyone is going to open the door unless they need to take him out.
So maybe his fantasy of being outside when his brothers arrive isn't going to happen. Well, that's okay; he'll just be sure to make some other part of their escape totally rad. That will make up for the embarrassment of getting kidnapped a block from Run of the Mill.
(Seriously, some kind of ninja he is, to let a bunch of human soldiers sneak up on him.)
He drains the water bottle, then starts to roll it back and forth across the floor, like a cat batting at a toy. Leo's not sure what's worse right now: the worry or the boredom. There's nothing to look at and no one to talk to, just an empty room with him and his water bottles.
He's too keyed up to sleep, and the fluorescent lights are still on, anyway. He has no way of telling what time it is, so maybe it just isn't that late yet. And even sitting here, in the blind spot, the idea of closing his eyes while people are watching makes unease crawl up his spine. Staying awake is the easy choice. He'll sleep after he's out of here.
So he sits under the window and rolls his bottle back and forth, back and forth, with only the sound of plastic on tile to keep his thoughts company.
-----
The first three water bottles came pretty regularly, but now there is a very long stretch where nothing is delivered. Leo is starting to think maybe it really is night now. They don't turn off the lights in his cell, though, and he has no controls to do it himself. At least it helps with the whole "staying awake" thing.
Just in case they've decided to suspend his water privileges along with the food, he holds off drinking any more for now.
Speaking of food, his appetite has finally decided to return. His stomach starts to growl at him after several hours (he thinks) of sitting in the floor, an annoying emptiness in his stomach. Knowing there's no food accessible just makes the hunger sharper, but he puts it out of his mind the best he can with nothing else to focus on. He can eat once he's free.
Which should be soon. Seriously, his brothers have to be on their way by now, right?
He's pretty sure it's been the better part of a day, if not a whole day, since he was kidnapped. And, okay, he's willing to give them some leeway; it's understandable if they got a late start. He did storm out of the lair after his latest fight with Raph, and no one ever came to check on him when he did that. Understandably, he thinks, because who wants to be around Bad Mood Leo? Not even Leo wants to be around Bad Mood Leo!
But he'd already turned back into Good Mood Leo by the time he left Hueso's, so surely they knew it had been more than enough time. They would have noticed when he didn't come home. They would have realized something happened. They would be looking for him.
And if they're looking for him, they'll find him! Obviously.
His stomach growls again, and Leo leans his head back against the wall behind him. Maybe he shouldn't think of being at Hueso's. Now he just wants pizza. Pepperoni and mushroom, maybe, or Hawaiian. Mix it up a little with the barbeque chicken.
Another growl. He groans out loud.
He stays awake, twisting and crinkling the empty bottle in his hands, until another full one finally arrives.
-----
No chance to escape comes before using the toilet is necessary.
He tried to hold out, he really did, but he ended up drinking more water to stave off the growing hunger, and it's lowkey cold in here, which doesn't help. Still, the issue of the window sends an uneasy shiver up his spine, doubting that any people outside will feel the need to turn away and give him some privacy. Maybe he should have gone while he suspected it was nighttime.
(Maybe he shouldn't assume they ever aren't watching him.)
He stands up and walks over to the cot, giving it a light nudge with his foot. In a stroke of luck, it isn't bolted to the floor, and it's light enough that he can lift it. The black mesh it's made of is tightly woven, enough that not much is visible through it. It will have to do.
He picks it up and drags it over in front of the toilet, propping it up on its legs so it makes a small wall between himself and the window. It's hardly ideal, but the semblance of privacy makes him relax somewhat.
(He can't think about how there are surely cameras in the room watching him from all angles, making his attempt at a barrier moot. He knows better than anyone that sometimes pleasant lies are necessary.)
After he does his business, he leaves the cot propped where it is; it's not like he's sleeping on it. There's no sink for him to wash his hands, but he's never been the strictest about it, anyway (much to Donnie's disgust). He returns to his spot under the window, squeezing the water bottle to the rhythm of the first song that comes to mind.
Only two verses and a bridge later, the window above his head turns black, then goes clear. Thinking that Bishop might have been watching him just now makes a cold, slimy feeling roll down his spine. Creepy!
"Inmate 24365," comes Bishop's voice through the unseen speaker. "Stand."
Leo doesn't. He stays right where he is, under the window.
Bishop waits only a few seconds. Then Leo hears him say, "Temperature down two degrees."
He gets up at that, turning and leaning his arm against the window. It strangely doesn't feel like glass, even though it must be. "It's already cold enough in here," he says. He wonders how they can hear him, when he doesn't see a microphone on his side.
"You were told your conditions would only be made comfortable after you answer our questions," Bishop informs him. "The same as before: how many gateways are there between New York City and the hidden yokai enclave? How are these gateways-"
"How about you answer my questions first," Leo interjects. "You keep calling me "inmate," but I haven't been charged with anything. Pretty sure you can't detain me without cause."
"The EPF is authorized to detain non-human inmates for as long as deemed necessary for the security of the United States," says Bishop smoothly. "Probable cause doctrine does not apply in this case."
"That's gotta be unconstitutional."
"The constitution does not recognize the rights of yokai. You have no right to counsel, no right to a speedy trial, and no right to protections from cruel and unusual punishments." Bishop's stare is colder than the temperature in the room. "But I am not an unfair man. Answer my questions, and I will provide you with food and clothing."
Leo tosses a glance over his shoulder. "How about a private bathroom?"
Bishop's expression stays ever in place, unimpressed and stoic. "Food and clothing," he repeats.
Leo gives his head a shake. "Then nope," he says, popping the "p". "I plead the fifth."
"As I have already explained, the Bill of Rights does not apply to you."
"That's such crap." Leo bangs his fist on the window. "You can't just keep me here forever for no reason!"
"I do have reasons." Bishop leans closer to the window, his eyes narrowing. "Let's try a different question. What is your relation to Baron Draxum?"
The surprise is fast and sharp, but Leo just manages to keep it from showing on his face. "Who?" he asks innocently, even as the panic sets into his chest. If they know about Draxum, what else do they know?
"We know you are acquainted with him," says Bishop. "What is the nature of your relationship?"
Leo knows they aren't bluffing - why would they bring up that very specific name otherwise? There's no lie he can tell that won't reveal something.
So he doesn't say anything. Instead, he turns his back to the window and sits down, staring resolutely at the opposite wall.
Bishop clicks his tongue. "Very well," he says. "I am a patient man. I can wait." Then, more muffled, like he's facing away from the microphone, Leo hears him say, "Temperature down two degrees."
The window goes dark, then turns back to white. Leo doesn't move for a long time.
-----
The third water bottle arrives, so he guesses that's the end of day two.
He's shaking as he gets up to retrieve it, adding it to his growing water bottle hoard. He's gone through three and a half by now, but he's trying not to drink them too fast.
As promised, no food is delivered, and his stomach growls and rumbles in protest. The water helps, but only slightly. He needs to eat.
He also needs to sleep.
The panicked adrenaline spikes that have kept him awake this long are starting to die down, with more and more long stretches of exhaustion between them. The shaking is near constant, bringing with it the weird jittery feeling he gets when his insomnia gets particularly bad.
The window is still unnerving him. The idea of sleeping while they're watching him feels staggeringly unsafe.
But he doesn't think he can hold out now until his family gets here. Sure, they're probably getting close (they have to be getting close), but they're sure taking their sweet time. And he's just so tired.
After a long internal debate, he lays down on the cold tile floor. It's not at all comfortable, but somehow he doubts the cot would be any better. Besides, even if he moves the cot under the window, he thinks it would be easier to see him if he uses it. So on the floor it is.
He presses as close to the wall as he can, curling up into a ball for warmth. He wishes he had a blanket.
He wishes he was home.
He squeezes his eyes shut tight and forces back the sudden wave of overwhelming homesickness. There's no reason to feel this way. It's only been two days! What is he, a baby?
It's fine. It's all fine. They're definitely on his trail now. Raph is leading the team. Donnie is using some kind of invention to blah blah blah nerd stuff. Mikey is razzing his tazz. April is using her investigative journalism skills to find clues.
They're on their way. He just has to hold out a little longer. He can do this.
He sleeps, and in his dreams, something grabs him tight and drags him down and down and down where he can't escape.
-----
The same routine plays out over the next two days.
Leo gets two water bottles delivered, spaced, if he had to guess, about five hours apart. Bishop comes to visit him some time after the second bottle. Leo refuses to answer his questions. Bishop turns the temperature down and then leaves. A few hours later his last water bottle comes. Then nothing for the whole night.
They still don't turn off his lights, but exhaustion is starting to win over the brightness.
More than a few times, Leo tries to summon a portal on his own, without his swords. If his family is going to take their sweet time in coming, he might as well try to help them out. He tries to summon his ninpo (without glowing), tries to feel the tug inside of him that he always does when he teleports, tries to envision the place he wants to go and tunnel through space to get there.
Nothing. Always nothing.
(Donnie can make his constructs independent of his bo staff. Raph can send his projections away from his sai. Mikey's learning to use mystic powers without his nunchucks. So why does Leo need his katana? Why is he the only one this useless?)
It probably doesn't help that he's so damn hungry. It's a constant companion now, a low and hollow ache that chooses inconvenient times to turn into white hot stabs of urgency, into seizing cramps that steal his breath. The water only helps so much - it keeps him alive but doesn't satisfy, doesn't soothe. In some ways it just makes the feeling worse.
And he's always shaking, too, but he doesn't know if that's the hunger or the cold.
Maybe the cold wouldn't bother him so much if it were at least still. But the vents blow fresh air inside relentlessly, and no matter where he goes he can't seem to get out of the direct stream. The cold wind batters his tired body, and there's places his skin is starting to turn dry and flaky. His nose won't stop running, and he's allowed himself a small section of his one roll of toilet paper to blow it, already stiff and congealed and disgusting.
It's miserable.
And there's still nothing to do.
He stacks a pyramid out of his empty water bottles, knocks it down, then stacks it up again. He tries to come up with some new and exciting ways to demolish it, but it's only new and exciting for so long.
He spends a few hours of day three singing karaoke as obnoxiously as possible. He hopes everyone outside enjoys the performance.
He recounts every issue of Jupiter Jim he knows to himself, then the plot of every movie. Then he goes through Lou Jitsu films, then anything else he can think of. That eats up a good chunk of day four.
By the time he gets his first water bottle of day five, he's out of ideas to entertain himself. He's never been good at this. He doesn't know how introverts like Donnie can go multiple days without talking to someone.
But when Bishop comes back with his daily offer of conversation, Leo once again impolitely declines.
-----
Something new happens on night five.
It's been a long time since the last water bottle. Leo has been trying to sleep, but it's not coming easy; he's exhausted, but the floor is so cold and he's so sore from staying on it night after night. Not to mention, his nightmares have been getting worse, and he isn't eager to return to them.
Add on the hunger, and sleep is elusive.
Suddenly, there's the telltale shadow of the window above him turning dark - this time, though, it doesn't light up as much as normal. Confused and curious, Leo sits up and takes a peek.
The room beyond is dim, only the glow of a green EXIT sign and a small desk lamp lighting the space. But it's enough for Leo to see a man standing there, looking inside. It's not Bishop - in fact, he doesn't recognize this person at all. They're wearing fatigues, but it's not anyone he's seen in the room during Bishop's normal interrogations.
The man catches sight of Leo, and the grinning leer on his face makes Leo regret looking.
He beckons for Leo to stand up. Warily, Leo does, unable to help but keep his arms folded tight over his chest. Not for the first time, he wishes he had some clothes - his gear, at the very least. Anything to not feel quite so exposed.
The man reaches down and picks something up, holding it aloft for Leo's inspection. "Want a sandwich?" he asks into the microphone.
The sandwich looks like white bread and bologna. No cheese, no other toppings that Leo can spot. Maybe some mustard, if anything. Overall, the most boring possible sandwich he could have been offered.
Leo's mouth is watering.
He has to swallow hard before answering. He doesn't trust this. Even if his stomach is slamming up and down at the promise of food, food, food.
"I'm not hungry," he lies.
The man laughs. It's not a kind sound. "Sure you ain't," he says. "You spend every night curled up on the floor like the dumb animal you are. Can you even eat this?" He waves the sandwich for emphasis.
Leo doesn't answer. He takes a step back from the window, like that will put any kind of distance between them. Like that will save him.
The man watches him with a sleezy grin. He waves the sandwich again.
"You want this," he says.
Leo shakes his head.
"You really sure?"
Leo shudders. Stands tall. Nods.
The man watches him for a long, long moment. Leo fights the urge to hide.
Finally, with a shrug, the man says, "Suit yourself."
Then he starts eating the sandwich. Right where Leo can watch.
Leo's stomach growls, loud and angry in his ears, and he has to physically hold himself back from crumpling.
After several bites, the man suddenly reaches out and taps the window, indicating the cot stood up in front of the toilet.
"That," he says, giving another tap for emphasis, "doesn't do shit."
Leo wants to crawl out of his own skin.
The need to hide is suddenly too great. He rushes to the cot, grabbing it and dragging it back to the blind spot under the window. He sets it down on all four legs, so it's as close to the floor as possible.
Then he lies down on his belly and wriggles underneath. It's a tight squeeze, and the cot ends up pushed up by his shell, suspended in the air, but he doesn't care.
He curls up in his pleasant lie of privacy and bites his hand to keep from screaming himself hoarse.
After an eternity, the window above him turns white again. It doesn't matter. Leo knows he's still there. Still watching.
-----
"You look tired," Bishop greets him. Leo answers with a dead-eyed stare.
"I keep telling you, if you want your conditions to improve, all you have to do is answer my questions."
Leo says nothing. He just stares, arms wrapped tight around himself to try and keep his body heat in.
"How many gateways are there between New York City and the hidden yokai enclave? How are these gateways accessed?"
For a moment, Leo considers just... telling him.
His family doesn't live in the Hidden City. The yokai have never exactly greeted them with open arms. What does he care if these military guys go after them? At least then, maybe he can finally eat something.
That's not what a hero does, Leo! echoes Mind Raph disapprovingly. Innocent people will get hurt!
Right. He's a hero. And heroes don't give into the demands of shitty guys like Bishop.
Leo swallows hard. "No comment."
Bishop's face changes ever so slightly: his brow creases. Leo wonders if that's good or bad for him.
"You understand that Baron Draxum is a known threat, don't you?" he asks. "We are aware of his plans to commit mass murder on the human population. We also know that he has been dormant for some time, and we need information on what he is planning."
Leo thinks of Barry's ambitions to be recognized as the best lunchperson in all of America and can't help but laugh. It comes out cracked and wheezing.
Bishop's furrow gets deeper. "Do you think this is funny?"
"Little bit," says Leo.
Bishop has a chasm to rival Raph's now. Leo knows he shouldn't, but he grins. It's his one moment of triumph - only he can be this aggravating.
And then Bishop says, "Temperature down seven degrees," and that wipes the smile right off Leo's face.
-----
The plastic of the water bottles is soft and pliable and feels weirdly good under Leo's teeth.
He chews the top of the bottle, gnawing at it until it's completely flattened out, pockmarked with little tiny indents from his incisors. It's not eating - it won't fill his belly or ease the persistent hunger pains. But something about the motion is soothing. The place-bo effect.
Pla-ce-bo, corrects Donnie's voice in his mind, sounding testy.
Where are you? Leo thinks back.
There's no answer.
He's gnawed his way through four water bottles. There's eighteen in total now, two and a half still full of water. He thought about using one to wash up a bit, but decided against it in the end. He knows he stinks, but the last thing he wants right now is to be wet. Not when he's starting to see his breath.
Oh well. It's not like he has anywhere to be.
He turns his attentions to the lids next. These are harder and thus tougher to chew. Still, if Leo uses his molars, he can eventually crack the lip, and then bend the plastic in and in, chewing until he ends up with a flat disc.
It's just small enough that Leo could swallow it, if he wanted to.
He thinks he remembers watching some kind of wildlife documentary. Or maybe he didn't watch it himself, but Mikey told him about it. Or maybe April? He doesn't know. His thoughts swim in and out and get lost on the way.
Point is. Sea turtles in the wild die all the time because of plastic in the water. They cut open their stomachs and find trash inside.
Well, Leo is a turtle in captivity. Maybe that means he's immune. Maybe he could swallow this plastic lid, and then he'd finally feel full and the pain pain pain of his empty stomach would go away.
He does not swallow the plastic lid. But it's more tempting than he'd like to admit.
It's going to be okay. When his family gets him out of here, they'll have a big pizza to celebrate. Maybe he can even talk them into letting him have the last slice.
It has to be any moment now, right? It's been a week. They have to be closing in. Any moment now, the door will open, and there they'll be to take him home.
The air conditioning blows relentlessly against his skin. He sneezes, then rubs the snot on his arm. He's given up on the tissue paper.
It'll be over soon. It has to be. Just hang in there, Leon, just a little longer.
He picks up another bottle and starts chewing.
-----
He's playing a mindless little game with his flattened bottle lids the next time Bishop comes.
"I'm surprised you still have any energy at all," says Bishop, and Leo wants to punch him.
(Really, he wants to do more than that. But those kinds of thoughts always make him feel weird and bad, so he pushes them away.)
"You should have learned by now," he says, pushing to his feet and trying not to show how badly he's trembling, "you can't keep me down."
"This is all unnecessary," says Bishop. "I'll feed you as soon as you answer my questions."
Leo barks out a laugh. "Sure you will."
"I will," says Bishop. He turns and says over his shoulder, "Bring it here."
One of the men in fatigues steps forward and hands a tray with a covered plate over to Bishop. Bishop uncovers the tray and holds it where Leo can see.
Baked chicken, broccoli with cheese, mashed potatoes.
Leo's stomach twists and cramps so painfully he has to bend at the hips and clutch his midriff.
"This is yours, as soon as you answer my questions."
Leo pointedly keeps from looking at the food. He shakes his head. He can't. He can't.
"Such persistence." Bishop's voice is scolding now. "You understand that you are a known accomplice to a terrorist, don't you? But if you become a cooperating witness, you will be granted some leniency."
Leo barks a laugh, lifting his eyes to look at Bishop's face, and pointedly not the food. "What's the point?" he asks. "If I'm not... protected by the constitution, or whatever. Are you going to let me go?"
"No," says Bishop. "But as I have told you, your conditions will become more comfortable." He waves the tray of food.
Leo stares at him, before a manic smile splits his face.
"You... stupid bastard. I can't even answer your questions." He slams a shaking hand against his plastron. "I'm not even a yokai! Do you get that? I'm not a yokai!"
Bishop looks skeptical. "Obviously you are."
"I'm not!" Leo rages. "I'm a mutant! I'm from New York! I don't even live in the Hidden City!"
Bishop's eyes flash. "I see," he says, "so you do know of it."
Leo falters, his body going slack.
What an obvious, stupid mistake.
(Some face-man he is.)
It takes Leo a long moment to answer. Bishop stays right where he is, holding the food so tantalizingly close and yet still out of reach.
"...I don't know about the gateways," he says finally. "I don't know about their defensive capabilities. I don't know what Baron Draxum is planning."
"Your lies are obvious," says Bishop. "You really don't want this? It's your last chance today."
Leo stares at the food. His mouth is watering so hard it might start to drip. Would it really be so bad to answer? They don't live in the Hidden City. And Draxum dropped him off a roof.
Draxum is trying to change, says Mind Raph. You see what these guys are like. You can't turn the yokai over to them. They'll hurt them!
What about me? he asks. Is it okay if I get hurt?
You're a hero, Leo, says Mind Raph. You can deal with it for a little longer. It's just a room. Just a little cold. Just some hunger.
He's a hero. He can deal with it. He can. He can.
He'll make them proud. Show them they can trust him.
It takes everything he has, but he shakes his head.
Bishop tuts. Then he throws the entire plate in the trash.
"Tomorrow, then," he says. Then the window is gone.
Leo collapses on his cot and tries not to cry.
-----
After his third water bottle on day eight, one of the fluorescent lights over his head flickers and then dies out.
It's not surprising, since they keep them running twenty-four seven. The blessedly dimmed lighting is actually nice, for once. Leo thinks maybe he could get some sleep, if the gnawing hunger and the constant shivers don't keep him awake.
He's just closed his eyes and snuggled up under his cot when it occurs to him: they may come in to fix it. If keeping the lights on day and night is part of their plan to torture him, to keep him exhausted and anxious and on edge, then they have to.
Which means his chance is finally here.
He has to be careful about this. He has to be ready to move, but he can't let them know he's ready to move. He has to let them think he's too weak, too exhausted, to make an escape attempt.
(He can't let himself think that, though. He can't give up before he tries.)
So he stays under his cot, but subtly shifts it so it won't restrict his movement. He has to be ready to burst out as soon as he gets a chance. Get past whoever comes in, then get out the door. It's after the last water bottle, so it's nighttime. There will be fewer people. He can do this. He can do this.
Find his swords. Make a portal. Get out.
Just as he was thinking, after a long time has passed, there is a loud warning beep, different from the water bottle beep. An automated voice says from somewhere unseen, "Inmates clear the door. Security personnel entering. Stay still and you will not be harmed."
Then the door slides open, and someone comes in.
It's a man wearing fatigues. Leo thinks this is the one who "offered" him a sandwich the other day. He's holding some kind of gun with a long barrel. He does a sweep of the room with his eyes, coming to rest on Leo under his cot. He gives Leo the same leering grin, and waves the barrel of the gun in his direction.
"Now you behave, and we'll get along just fine," he says.
He steps to the side, and another man enters, this one wearing the kind of jumpsuit Leo sees janitors in on TV. He's carrying a stepladder in one hand and a long tube in the other. Is that what fluorescent lights look like? Leo didn't know.
The man walks to the middle of the room and sets up his stepladder. Then he walks up and pulls off the light casing. When he unhooks the old bulb, it causes the other bulb to flicker, just for a few moments.
Leo explodes out from under the cot, grabbing the man in fatigues by the legs and yanking as hard as he can. The man yelps in surprise, and Leo hears the sound of the gun going off in a random direction. The janitor shouts and drops the light bulb - the sound of shattering glass joins the cacophony.
Leo jumps to his feet and runs out the door they had been too stupid to close, sprinting toward the EXIT sign. He's exhausted and shaky but he's coursing with adrenaline, and he leans on it hard to keep him moving. Don't stop, don't stop, get out of here. He'll figure out what to do next once he's free.
Past the exit sign there's a large open room with desks and computer monitors. Most of them are off, but one lingering woman in a lab coat, seated at her desk, screams when she sees Leo dash through the middle of the office space.
"Security!" she screams into a device on her chest. "Inmate is escaping! Inmate is escaping!"
Leo doesn't have time to shut her up, he just keeps moving. He pushes through the next door and arrives in a hallway; he only has time to glance one way and then the other before scrambling to the left, hoping it was a good choice.
He rounds a corner and sees another green EXIT sign up ahead. It's not where he meant to go - he meant to find where they're keeping his swords first. But he hears shouting behind him and doesn't stop. Fine, so no portals - he'll figure out something else once he's away from here.
He throws himself forward into the exit door, which leads him into yet another hallway. Another long sprint, with shouting and slamming doors at his heels, and then finally, finally, a third EXIT sign, and he crashes outside.
Where there's snow on the ground, snow on the trees.
It steals his breath away. There shouldn't be snow. It's May.
Where is he?
He takes a breath of air so cold it seizes his lungs, then takes a step forward. He'll worry about that-
BANG!
A piercing pain in his shoulder nearly sends him toppling over. Leo shouts, grasping for the wound and feeling something sticking out of his skin. He grabs it and yanks, pulling it free.
It's a dart.
Damn it, he thinks, before his vision goes woozy, and he collapses into the snow.
-----
"Are you proud of your little escape attempt?" comes Bishop's voice.
Leo looks up from his cot. Bishop has to get so close to the window to see him that his nose is pressed flat against it. It should be hilarious, but Leo doesn't really have the energy to laugh. Or to do much of anything.
He's hungry. He's tired. He's cold. He's still sluggish from the drugs.
And they threw away all his water bottles. Fuckers.
Leo rolls over on the cot and covers his ears.
"What a childish response," says Bishop, and that's funny, too, because Leo literally is a child. Or a teenager, anyway. He doesn't feel like it will help him much to point that out, though.
"All you have to do is answer my questions, and all this will be fixed."
That's the funniest thing of all. The idea that he spills his guts and Bishop treats him to a five course meal to make up for all the pain up till now. Hilarious.
He says nothing.
Bishop sighs.
"You are likely still affected by the tranquilizing agent. I'll return tomorrow."
Before he leaves, he says, "Temperature down five degrees."
-----
The same man is back that night. He opens the window and looks down at Leo with the same leering smile. Leo can't even take satisfaction in the bandage on the side of his head.
"Neat little trick you had yesterday," he says. "Almost got me fired."
Leo wishes it had gotten him fired. But he clearly has no luck in this situation.
"You know, I respect the attempt. And you probably would have gotten farther with a little food in your belly." The man reaches down, then retrieves a sandwich, as mouth-wateringly unappetizing as the last time. "You sure you don't want this?"
And Leo knows he shouldn't trust this guy. Leo knows he should say no.
But he's just...
so...
hungry.
So he gets up. And he turns to the window. On shaking limbs that can barely hold him upright anymore. With a body that is laced with pain and aches and cramps.
And he nods.
The man's smile gets wider. "What do you say?" he asks, in the sing-song tone of a parent scolding a child.
It makes a sick nausea rise in Leo's throat. But he wants the sandwich.
"Please," he gasps out.
"Mmm... not good enough." The man waves the sandwich. "You want this? You beg for it."
Leo stares, eyes wide. But the sandwich... the sandwich...
He gets down on his knees. Feels a searing flush of humiliation. His stomach is rolling and gurgling and cramping with pain, a hollow, empty chasm inside him desperate to be filled.
He lowers his head.
"Please," he says. "I... I want the sandwich. I'm... begging you, please."
The man laughs, loud and long. When Leo finally finds it in him to raise his eyes, the sandwich is already half eaten.
"Hey, good job," says the man, licking a bit of mustard off his thumb. "That was real convincin'."
And then he takes another bite.
Just like that, Leo forgets about the pain, the aches, the cold, the hunger. All that's left is pure, white hot, screaming rage.
Leo lunges at the window and slams his fist into it so hard it cracks. Not enough to break the glass. Not enough to free him. But enough that the man startles and steps back.
And Leo starts to laugh. High and manic and unhinged even to his own ears.
"I'll kill you," he says, and his voice sounds almost joking, and yet- "I'll kill you. You're dead. You're dead, as soon as I get out of here, you're dead, I'll kill you, I'LL KILL YOU!"
The man has dropped the rest of his sandwich. He fumbles for his gun, left somewhere on a table to the side. For one satisfying moment, Leo sees a flash of genuine fear on the man's face.
"Shit," he says, his voice far away the further he gets from the microphone. "Pretty scary, frogboy."
Then he slams a button, and the window goes black, and Leo gets a glimpse of his own reflection.
His face is gaunt and drawn. His eyes are ringed by deep circles, so dark they look like bruises. His body is shaking like a leaf.
And his stripes...
His stripes are lit up like when he uses his ninpo, but they aren't their usual Neon Leon bright.
They're almost black.
Leo gasps and stumbles back just as the window goes white. The full body quakes he feels now aren't from the cold or the hunger or the exhaustion.
He turns and sinks onto the cot. Puts his face in his hands and tries to breathe. Tries to will his ninpo to stop rolling and snapping and to go back to normal.
This isn't what he wants. This isn't him.
This place is breaking him. He's letting it break him.
He pulls his legs up onto the cot and buries his face in his knees. Wraps his arms around them and rocks gently, the way Donnie used to do when things got overwhelming. Maybe he understands that better, now.
This isn't him. He's Leonardo, Neon Leon, the face-man, the jokester! The one who's always ready with a quip and a laugh. The one who can do anything!
Except portal out of his room. Except escape from this building. Except resist begging for a sandwich like he's a dog.
Leo's breath hitches, and for once he doesn't stop himself. He knows the guy outside is probably watching. He knows there are cameras recording this. He hates giving them the satisfaction.
But he's tired, and hungry, and he...
He wants to go home.
He cries, silently, until he's completely rung out.
-----
Maybe they aren't coming.
That's the thought that pops into his head, just a bit after the first water bottle of the day.
He knew they would have gotten a late start, because he stormed out. And he knew it would take them awhile to figure out who took him - he hadn't heard of the EPF before, so why would they? And he knew it would take them time to figure out where he had been taken, which must have been pretty far out if it's snowing outside. But the EPF got him here within a night, he's pretty sure, so unless they have a super fast jet, he must still be on the continent somewhere.
So... so surely they must have figured it out by now, right? Raph is leading the team. Donnie is doing science things. Mikey is razzing his tazz. April is using her investigative skills.
Unless they aren't coming.
Maybe... maybe it's true. Why would they want him back, after all? Leo took Raph's leader position, and since then all he'd managed to do was piss Raph off. Mikey and Donnie hadn't been happy about it, either, and he'd noticed that they'd been avoiding him more and more. April claimed she wasn't taking sides, but she always seemed to be on Raph's anyway. And Dad... well, he was probably disappointed that he made Leo leader only for him to do nothing and then get himself kidnapped.
He doesn't bring anything to the team. He doesn't bring anything to the family. And no one likes his jokes.
So. Maybe they just... aren't looking. Maybe they aren't going to come.
Maybe he's held out this long for no reason. Maybe he's been cold and starving for no reason at all.
Maybe it's time to give up.
---
Don't give up, says a new voice in his head.
You are not alone.
-----
He has no energy left to stand when Bishop comes. The man looks down at him, lips pressed into a thin line.
"You don't look well," he observes.
No shit, Leo wants to say.
"This has gone on long enough. Answer my questions, and we will provide you with food, clothing, and medical care."
The list is getting longer. Leo's fuzzy eyes stare up at Bishop. Medical care. Does he need that?
"You already know what I want to know." Bishop has a furrow between his eyebrows now. "Will you talk to me?"
He could. He could do it. He could finally have some relief from all the pain. All the hunger. All the cold.
But they might hurt the yokai in the Hidden City.
They might hurt Draxum.
They might hurt his family.
And maybe, if nothing else... if Leo could just keep his mouth shut, just this once...
Maybe that would finally make Raph, Dad, and everyone proud of him.
Maybe they'd finally trust him.
Maybe, at least, he can have that much.
Leo shakes his head.
Bishop scowls.
"Temperature down ten degrees."
-----
Leo isn't shivering anymore. That's probably a bad sign.
He can still see his breath, each time he exhales. It rises like smoke, before disappearing into the air.
He doesn't have any energy left, not even to chew on his new water bottles. He hasn't even collected the last two, and they sit crowded together in the slot, untouched.
He kind of wishes they had just dissected him from the beginning. It would have been faster. Freezing to death, he's decided, is a real zero out of ten. Starving to death isn't any better. No stars.
Even though the damn lights are still on, he feels extremely sleepy. It's probably the cold. He wonders what will happen if he brumates. He's never done it before, not like his little cousins, and he has no idea if it's even safe.
Probably not, given he has no calorie reserves left. All it means is he won't be drinking water, either.
But he's so sleepy.
It's going to be time soon for Bishop to come back. Leo doesn't know what the point is anymore. Maybe he'll just sleep through it. Yeah, that would really make him mad. And making Bishop mad is all he has at this point.
And he'll get to sleep. It's a win-win.
So thinking, Leo rolls himself over onto his belly. Then, one by one, he pulls his limbs into his shell.
He doesn't do this much anymore, not since he started growing. His body just doesn't seem to fit his shell like it should - a side effect of the mutation, probably. It's not really comfortable to be inside for long.
But Leo is sleepy. And his shell feels like the best place to be.
So he pulls in his legs, then his arms, and then, finally, his head.
It's not any warmer in here. But at least it's dark.
At least he's not shivering.
Leo sighs, content, and closes his eyes, and drifts to sleep.
-----
(Outside his cell, there's a bang, and shouting, and a gunshot.
The sound is muffled, and Leo sleeps on.)
-----
Part 1 (here) | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 Part A |
727 notes · View notes
ineffableigh · 10 months
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Wait what the hell is Aziraphale mouthing here. Lip-readers sound off!!
This is RIGHT before "The Metatron! I don't think he's as bad a fellow - well I think I might have misjudged him."
His line was: "I, um... [mouthing something]" THEN the above line.
This can't be nothing. Can it? "We need to get out"??? Not sure. EDIT: I agree with @maximumpenguinpuppy here, I think he's saying
"WE NEED HELP."
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Further deep dive on the most painful conversation I've ever seen:
Azi makes the most INTENSE EYE CONTACT I'VE EVER SEEN during "I think I might have misjudged him."
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"PLEASE HEAR WHAT I AM SAYING TO YOU RIGHT NOW."
After a few intercuts with the flashbacks we get to the really painful bit.
"He said that I could appoint you... to be an angel." His voice is so strained and high pitched even for him, here.
"Like the old times, only even NICER!"
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The super nice old times where you couldn't be together at all, eh?
Crowley starts his confession and we get the "What the blazes is he doing?" face as he starts to realize Crowley is NOT picking up on any of this. Azi's breathing heavily here, revealing how very stressed the fuck out he is.
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After this point is when things get really hard to interpret. Aziraphale sounds so genuine about "Come with me!" and "We can make a difference, I'll run it and you'll be my second in command." It feels like Crowley starting his very real confession broke through the charade of 'The Metatron knows something and we're in fucking danger'.
He blathers about Angels and Doing Good before breaking again, letting the "I need you!" slip. We get this HALF A SECOND look of the most profound sadness right before the "I don't think you understand what I'm offering you."
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"You idiot. We could have been us."
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Azi looks like he can't believe just how badly this went. This is right before he looks away.
OH NO NOW I'VE SEEN CROWLEY'S FACE RIGHT WHEN HE STARTS TO GO OVER FOR THE KISS AH MY FEELS
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Azi is not hiding his emotions well, right before the grab:
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Then of course we get the I Forgive You, which sounds like his most bitter one yet. A flash of anger and resentment, frustration, immediately followed by remorse and grief.
Having seen all that, my best guess now is:
Metatron made the (barely) veiled De Facto Partnership threats, implying he knows about the body swap and, implicitly, threatening Crowley with Holy Water, at least to some extent.
Aziraphale tries his damnedest to communicate to Crowley that Something is Fucking Wrong and they Have to Go to Heaven to Fix It.
Crowley, having been primed by the various chats with Nina and then the 2v1 chat with Nina and Maggie RIGHT before this, clearly timed by the Metatron, fully misses all of this and takes it all at face value.
Crowley starts to give his confession and Aziraphale realizes what he's trying to say, tries to adjust his Heaven Pitch to hinge on staying together as a team to fix things."
"You cannot leave this bookshop." "Nothing lasts forever." Azi has chosen the worst way to make another attempt at saying he has no choice but to leave the bookshop. I don't think this is about the Second Coming, given his reaction to the info later.
Everything deteriorates from there as Aziraphale tries again to imply something is Fucking Wrong by going back to the "Angels! Doing good!" shtick, but it's too late. It's always too late.
"I don't think you understand what I'm offering you." He doesn't but Azi is also communicating it very badly, likely because the Metatron is indeed watching.
Crowley thinks this is all real so he gives his No Nightingales line, etc etc. Aziraphale can tell there's no fixing this, gives up.
Crowley swoops in with The Kiss as a last ditch effort to get Azi to listen. Azi WAS listening, but cannot respond other than in anger and frustration that Crowley, in his view, refuses to listen to him again, has called him an idiot again. This happens multiple times throughout the show so there's history to fuel that assumption.
This is the precise outcome the Metatron was vying for, to split them up and emotionally/psychologically weaken them, to ensure there was no chance of a united front as there was for Armageddidn't.
My heart hurts, ow.
1K notes · View notes
galedekarios · 5 months
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gale & karlach
i think out of all the dynamics between the companions, i've come to enjoy gale and karlach the most over my time with the game. karlach especially bc she's the only one who genuinely seems to care about and for gale.
she repeatedly checks in on him after the orb reveal and doesn't turn it into a joke about slurping carrots, or sipping wine, or wanting him to be gone entirely from the group.
not only does she advocate for him to stay three times, depending on which dialogue path you pick:
gale's background story reveal & the reveal about the netherese orb
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Karlach: Come on. We all have our secrets - and our risks. If Gale leaves, we might as well disband completely. - Karlach: Absolutely. We're all risky in our own ways. We stick together anyway. Right? - Karlach: If having dangerous, otherworldly objects stuck in your skin is wrong, then Gale and I both have to go. We're not really splitting up, are we?
but she's also the only one who repeatedly asks him throughout the game how he is doing, to make sure how he's faring, both in general and with his debilitating condition:
act 2 - shadow-cursed lands banter
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Karlach: Doing all right, Gale? Gale: Oh, you know... Still alive and kicking, despite being surrounded on all sides by an endless manifestation of darkness and decay... devnote: Almost with a sigh. That's just how things are - Grim humour to it. Karlach: I feel it too. Here if you need a pick-me-up.
act 3 - after mystra stabilised the orb
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Karlach: How's the orb treating you, Gale? Gale: Oh, quite well as a matter of fact. Since it was stabilised, it's been humming along nicely. Gale: I have noticed one adverse side-effect. I seem to be losing hair in some, er, unexpected places. Karlach: I can only imagine.
i think it really bears repeating/stressing that no other companion does this. not one checks in on gale like karlach does, after his affliction has become known to his companions - with the exception of the protag potentially.
karlach also arguably has the strongest reaction in response to mystra's demands in act 2, showing again her care for gale, as well as her protective side:
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Karlach: Aw, was that Gale's granddad? Player: That was Elminster Aumar - the most famous wizard in the realms. Karlach: Huh. Doesn't ring a bell. But all right! Must've had something important to say to Gale, if he came all this way. Good news, I hope. Player: I don't think it was. It turns out Gale has an explosive bomb in his chest - and Mystra has asked him to use it to blow up the heart of the Absolute. Karlach: Whoa, now. He's got a... well, I guess that would explain a little, but... Mystra... I mean, this is a lot to take in. Karlach: What's he going to do? - Player - Option 1: I think he's going to follow through with it. Karlach: Fuck me. There's devotion, and then there's stupidity. If the god of magic can't handle this without sacrificing Gale, she's no god at all. - Player - Option 2: I don't think he'd do that to himself, even if Mystra commanded it. Karlach: Good. I'm one hundred percent sure there's another way to bring down this cult. No true god would ask such a thing from her faithful. That's for certain. Karlach: Poor Gale. He must be in bits after hearing that. I'll distract him. Tell him I haven't read a book since secondary school, watch his face melt off. - Player - Option 3: I'm not sure. I think he's of several minds. Karlach: Well, tell him to pick the right one. Better yet, I'll do it. Fucking wizards, man! They always need help picking the simple, obvious option. Karlach: If Mystra can't think of another way to stop the Absolute than sacrificing Gale, she's no god worth worshipping. I'll say that to Gale - in, you know, gentle terms. - Player - Option 4: You know that bomb in Gale's chest? Mystra has asked him to use it to explode the heart of the Absolute. Karlach: She what?! Is she mad?! - Player - Option 5: Don't worry about it. Karlach: Karlach doesn't worry, she acts. So if Gale needs me, now's the time to tell me.
i particularly like that last response bc it really echoes throughout her relationship with gale ("karlach doesn't worry, she acts. so if gale needs me, now's the time to tell me.").
their banters are often playful, but also genuine. both karlach and gale tease each other, they joke with each other, showing how comfortable they are with each other despite their many differences, but there are also moments of understanding and care between them, allowing them to emphasise with each other:
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Karlach: Man, it's good to be home. First round on who? Gale: She who thirsts buys drinks the first. devnote: Like it's a well-known saying Karlach: You won't pin me down with a rhyme, wizard! devnote: Jockeying with Gale (prob supposed to be Joking with Gale) Gale: She who declines gets the worst of the wines.
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Karlach: Just when I was getting used to the sky again... Gale: Fear not, Karlach. Sun, moon and stars will still be there waiting for us. devnote: Reassuring Karlach: Meanwhile, this place is pretty spectacular, isn't it? Gale: No book or painting could ever do its strange beauty justice. But perhaps our stories might, when we return to the surface. devnote: Agreeing with Karlach, enjoying the sense of wonder as you explore
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Gale: I've always felt flames to be a rather perfect expression of love, Karlach. Gale: Passionate, primal, capable of bestowing the most life-affirming comfort, or inflicting the profoundest damage. devnote: Listing the qualities of fire, Romantic, indulging in the poetry of the image Karlach: That's... pretty nice. Never thought about it like that. But now I will.
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Karlach: Wouldn't mind a dancing axe of my own. Gale: A simple movement charm wouldn't be too hard to apply to such an object. I could conjure one up for you if you like? Karlach: Yes! I like! Gale: Very wel then. Once the city is saved, Karlach's Kinetic Cleaver will be first on my list.
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Karlach: So, Gale - got any book recommendations for me?devnote: With concern Gale: You can read?! devnote: Taking the piss - knows full well Karlach can read, and that she's always claimed not to enjoy it Karlach: Very funny. Yes - I can read. School put me off big boring tomes. Sometimes I wonder what I'm missing. devnote: Friendly rather than flirtatious Gale: Say no more - I'll find the perfect book for you. I might even lend it to you from my library in Waterdeep. devnote: Jumping on the opportunity to give a book recommendation (a favourite hobby) Karlach: Ooh! Something with magic, please. And no devils.
even at his most vulnerable moments, karlach is there to support him:
before the stormshore tabernacle audience with mystra
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Karlach: You can do this, Gale. And I'll be right here when you're done.
she allows herself to be protective of him and get angry on his behalf not after when it comes to mystra, but also when he is potentially kidnapped by orin:
karlach's reaction to gale being kidnapped
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Karlach: That bloody freak won't get away with this. That's my wizard she took. And we're going to get him back.
once again, it's a good callback to her previous line: "karlach doesn't worry, she acts. so if gale needs me, now's the time to tell me."
she's willing to be needed by him - and he does need her. whether that is as a friend, or (if you chose to play so during an origin pt) as a romantic partner. it's a lovely dynamic either way.
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actiniumwrites · 2 months
Text
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knots
synopsis: lyney has been head over heels in love with you since the two of you were only ten years old. the only problem? you're friends with lynette and not him. so he spends the next 8-9 years pining over you with seemingly unrequited feelings
characters: lyney x gn!reader
wc: 2.1k
warnings: angst to fluff, misunderstandings, happy ending, best friend's brother trope, an insane amount of obliviousness and pining, idiots to lovers pretty much, the ending is kinda rushed
disclaimer: i know character ages in genshin are a rather controversial topic of discourse within the community. i personally think of lyney and lynette to be around 18-19 years old and i do mention age in this fic as it follows a bit of a timeline. if this somehow bothers you, please just don't read or try to start an argument over it in my comments
notes: THIS IS SO CUTE IM SOBBING 🤧 i did throw in a lot of angst though i'm so sorry but i saw the opportunity and took it. the end is fluffy (and kind of rushed sorry) though‼️ the title is also inspired by lacy by olivia rodrigo as i think it's very fitting for this fic. thank you for the request! (this is my third time posting this cause the first time it didn't show up in the tags)
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Lyney was jealous as a kid. It was hard not for him to be when him and Lynette were first introduced to you and you had barely even acknowledged him. He was only ten at the time, but he was so excited to make new friends outside of the House of the Hearth that he was stunned when you had only really talked to Lynette. You had only ever offered him a small wave and a smile to go along with it before running off with Lynette.
It wasn’t fair in his eyes. He was the one more interested in you anyway, not her. She had merely tagged along because he forced her too. Now here she was stealing his potential friends.
You’d clicked instantly with her. Both of you were more on the quiet and shy side, contrasting Lyney’s sunny and outgoing personality. You both liked the same foods, the same clothing, the same everything. Lyney wanted to share those with you too, but it was hard when his tastes differed from yours and you didn’t seem to pay much interest in him anyway.
And growing up, he’d always been around. You’d hang out with all of them, don’t get it twisted. It wasn’t like you’d ever told him he couldn’t spend time with you guys. In fact, you often spent a lot of time together. You were sweet. You loved helping them with their magic tricks, even though they normally failed since you were all thirteen by the time they really began taking it seriously. You’d pretend to be shocked when they guessed your card, despite knowing exactly how the trick worked. You’d be on standby when they performed more dangerous tricks. Hell, you were even an assistant for them nearly eighty-percent of the time.
Lyney was grateful for it all, but he still couldn’t shake the ever growing crush on you he’d developed three years ago when you first met. He wanted you to be closer with him more than his sister. It was selfish, he was well aware of that, but he was the one with a crush. Not Lynette.
Lyney was the one to pick you up and put a bandaid on your knees when you fell at the playground. Lyney was the one to always share his snacks with you, even when you usually said no. Lyney was the one to always sit next to you when you were feeling a little down and let his knee rest quietly against yours, hoping you wouldn’t pull yours away. Lyney was the one who was in love with you by the time you all turned 18.
When the fateful performance happened and they were revealed to be Fatui to the general public, he was sure you’d leave them for good. You had obviously known they were Fatui, but you didn’t know of the extent to which they acted, the crimes they had committed. In your eyes, they were only in training, because that was all they had told you. As close as you were to them, they could never let you know the full details. It was against the rules.
Lyney was so sure you’d up and leave that it was the second time he had ever truly felt anxiety in his life — his sister being taken was the first, but here you were making him feel that horrible pounding in his chest all over again. He was so sure that the ache in his chest would have to make room for more than just jealousy, but grief among heartbreak. That you’d look at them in fear and never speak to them ever again. That he’d never get to profess his love to you.
You proved him wrong, and rather unexpectedly so. You’d shown up to every second of their trial and helped the traveler out as best you could to exonerate them. You’d stuck by their side through it all and made sure they were alright. He was so surprised you almost made him cry.
When they were freed from it all and the crisis was solved, you’d only hugged Lynette and Freminet. That was the part that stung the most. But at this age, Lyney was too nervous around you. How could he not be? You were so pretty and sweet and kind that he didn’t know what to do, especially when he was confused as to where he stood with you. You were all of those things and more with everyone. Everyone but him.
So he pulls away.
He doesn’t want to. God, he’s so in love with you he doesn’t want to ever spend a second away from you, but you never reciprocate any of it. So perhaps, he decides one day, it’d be best to just move on and focus on other things. Lynette could have you to herself and he’d find someone else, no matter how much he wanted you the most.
And you hate it, because well, you’re confused. Which sounds unfair, and in some ways it is, but Lyney was a special light in your life that you couldn’t get too close to. Not because you didn’t want to. No. Of course not. He didn’t realize that you were too scared to. You were so different that you shied away from him, despite feeling all the same toward him. He was like the sun and if you got too close to him, you were scared he’d burn you.
Lynette pushed you toward him regularly. You never seemed to escape her late night gossip sessions where she told you all about how her brother was practically drooling over how good you looked or how sweet you were. You found it endearing while she found it disgusting. Despite it all, though, you had confided in her about your crush on him as well, but how terrified you were to try to actually approach him. She almost slapped you right then and there.
Lynette thinks you’re both stupid. And she’s right. Because now you’re both stuck in a huge misunderstanding. Lyney thinks you hate him and you think he hates you. Could anyone really blame her for being so annoyed?
“You need to talk to him,” she finally breaks one day, about to pass out in her chair from her social energy running out just from hearing about the entire situation nonstop for the past week. You stare at her mortified as she gives you an unimpressed stare.
You nearly choke on the drink you were sipping on just a moment ago, catching a few passerby’s attention as you do, “Why do I have to be the one to say something?! He’s the one that started avoiding me!”
“Are you dense?”
“No?”
She stares at you for a long minute and sighs.
“You’re both idiots. He likes you. You like him. You were too shy to say anything and now he’s decided to move on,” she explains, unimpressed. Did you really not see it after all these years?
“Move on? What?” you place your hands on the table in front of you, panic swimming in your eyes. It all hits you so fast you feel your heart practically about to burst out of your chest.
“I have to go, sorry!” you jump out of your chair, yelling a string of apologies from behind you as you run from the cafe.
It takes you an hour to find him after your conversation with Lynette ends abruptly. Freminet was nice enough to let you know Lyney had gone down to the outskirts of the main city to work on some magic tools by the beach. It was just an excuse to get away. All three of you knew it, but Lyney wasn’t the type to say how he truly feels in fear of being a bad leader.
You wished he had said something sooner. Though perhaps you should’ve been the one to take notice long ago that his advances were more than just friendly.
You suddenly feel regret build up in your stomach at the way you treated him all these years. You were so afraid of your feelings you sabotaged yourself in the process and unknowingly hurt him too.
You find him sitting in the sand, legs crossed as he quietly fiddles with a few parts for some magic props.
“Mind if I sit?” you practically whisper from beside him. Lyney doesn’t even look at you. It’s cold and and unlike him and must be exactly how you looked all these years. He nods anyway.
You watch the waves crash in front of you. Over and over again as they grow closer with the deepening hours of the night. The stars reflect gently upon each and every one of them yet you can’t get yourself to focus on them.
You fidget with a small flower in your hands. It was tucked away gently in your pocket, the petals sticking out to prevent it from getting crushed. It’s a vibrant pink and even with its petals closed for the night, it still looks beautiful in your hand. It reminds you of all the times Lyney had dropped the very same ones at your doorstep or somehow tucked away on a piece of your clothing without you noticing. You hadn’t bothered to look into the meaning back then. You never knew rainbow roses were a declaration of love.
Lyney still sits quietly next to you, now messing with the hat he had taken off when you arrived. His lavender eyes avoid yours, but you don’t hesitate to drop the flower gently into his hands.
“I never knew the meaning of these,” you turn to him and say softly. Your eyes match your voice and he knows you’re telling the truth, even if he doesn’t want to believe it. When he doesn’t move to touch it, nor get rid of it, you speak again, “It’s uh…it’s for you. I picked it on the way here. I thought you’d maybe like it.”
He finally picks it up and turns toward you, a mixture of emotions pooling in his eyes. You see the anger, the fear, the pain, and the love all at once. You wish you had seen it all sooner.
“Why are you giving this to me?” Lyney asks quietly. It comes off a little colder than he’d like, you see it in the way he winces after. You only stare at him with a sad, but hopeful look in your eyes. You couldn’t take back the past, but perhaps you could change the future.
Quietly, you take it from him and tuck it above his ear. He’d done the same to you one time, only it was part of a show and you thought it was just for the act. Oh how oblivious you were back then. “You know what it means to give someone one of these. Lyney, I…I never meant to push you away all these years. I was just scared because I liked you, and Lynette was easier to get closer to than face my feelings for you. Even if we were just ten years old. It was immature and for that, I’m sorry.”
It’s quiet for a moment before his face brightens a bit, “Do you really mean it? You’ve really liked me all these years? Or are you just saying all this to make me feel better?”
You nod, confirming your words and he breaks out into laughter. A sound you’ve dearly missed. Sadness doesn’t suit Lyney.
“Can I…?” He says scooting closer to you, eyes glancing in between yours before falling to your lips. You nod, a small laugh escaping you as you lean in to meet him half way.
Lyney’s lips are soft against yours as he kisses you eagerly. You reciprocate the feeling, matching his pace until you both pull apart out of breath. You laugh nervously standing up and extending a hand, “Wanna go home?”
Lyney jumps up, his hand in yours and nods. He interlaces his fingers with yours tightly, not letting you go after all these missed out years.
When you return to the House of the Hearth, Lyney turns and places one last kiss to your lips. It’s short and sweet and lets you know that he’ll definitely be seeing you tomorrow. You turn and walk away after, wishing him a goodnight as you do. But before you can walk away completely and turns and shouts, “7 PM tomorrow at the Hotel Debourd! I’ll pick you up!”
Lynette appears behind him suddenly, rolling her eyes and waving to you before shutting the door on her twin, “You’re hopeless, brother.”
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ccsainzleclerc5516 · 7 months
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Lovers
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x reader (y/n)
Warnings: smut!!, cheating
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the background of the story: a few months ago you decided to visit your friend Sophie who lives in Monaco. Sophie has been in a relationship with Carlos for a while, and his teammate Charles is in a relationship with a girl (Ava) who isn't with him for the right reasons and doesn't really care about him. due to a combination of circumstances, you stayed in Monaco to live in Sophie's apartment and started running social networks for Ferrari, filming behind the scenes and similar things. From the very beginning, you and Charles have a love-hate relationship. He keeps sending you mixed signals and you never know where you're standing with him. A few weeks before you locked yourself out of the apartment, you shared a kiss that you couldn't stop thinking about…and neither could he.
Y/n's POV
After about half an hour of waiting in front of the locked door, the elevator opens and the eagerly awaited Charles steps out. Of course he had to be the one to come and 'save' me because who else would it be? Our relationship has not changed much in these months. Somehow I also accepted that that kiss happened once and that was it. After all he is taken so I forced myself to stop thinking about him entirely.
As he steps out of the elevator, at first he doesn't say anything but just smirks at me.
"Please, just don't say anything." I say as he comes in front of me pulling out the keys from the pocket of his jeans. He was looking as handsome as always wearing a simple white oversized t-shirt and light washed baggy jeans. No one could ever pull off rings, bracelets and sunglasses the way he does with his perfectly messy curls.
"Y/n." He says putting the key into the lock. "Wasn't going to." As the door finally opens I see smoke coming from the kitchen. My lasagna..
"No, no, no, no!" Horrified and worried, I start repeating, running towards the kitchen, begging God that I didn't set someone else's kitchen on fire and that only the lasagna was harmed.
"What is happening?" Charles runs after me.
"Oh thank God.." I breathe a sigh of relief when I see that nothing is burning in the kitchen except for my lasagna, which turned completely black.
"What exactly are you thanking God for?" He asked mockingly, watching me take the tray of unrecognizable lasagna out of the oven.
"I'm thanking Him for not accidentally setting this whole apartment on fire."
"You're a real danger Y/N." He laughs leaning over the counter. "Like in every possible way." And I join him. I feel like I'm in love with these so beautiful and yet so rare moments of laughter with Charles.
"Thank you for coming here with the keys. I really don't know how else I'd manage to enter the apartment since Sophie and Carlos are in Madrid."
"That lasagna would be a nice thank you for having to come here, but since you're such a great cook.." He mocks again, but I don't mind it.
"Oh stop it!" I wave my hand and open the fridge to see what's left in there. "Well, I don't have anything else left to offer you except beer?"
"I'll take it."
One beer for me, one for him, one for him, one for me, and then again one for him, one for me and so the hours went by without even realizing that it was already dark outside. We were sitting on the floor on the carpet in front of the couch. The TV was on, but we got into talking so much that no one paid attention to it.
"I still can't believe Carlos and Sophie are getting married." Charles says taking another sip from the bottle.
"I personally think it's a bit too fast 'cause they've been together for only like a year, but if they feel like that's it, then I'm all for it. He's head over heels for her."
"Yeah, I guess when you know you know."
"Besides, it's perfect timing since she's pregnant with him so-"
"What?!" At that moment I realize that my tongue works faster than my mind and I pour out Sophie's secret to Charles.
"Oh no no! Forget it please!" I don't know what was I trying to achieve with this? Maybe erase his memory?
"Sophie's pregnant? Carlos is going to be a dad?!" He asks unable to wrap his mind around the fact.
"Yes, yes they're having a baby, but please be quiet about it because literally no one knows but me. Carlos is just about to find out."
"Oh my God..I can't believe it." I notice that his face drops a bit. He doesn't seem all that excited about the rather exciting news. After all Carlos is his best friend. Or at least one of them.
"What?" I ask. "Aren't you excited for him?"
"I am, of course. But it just got me thinking how so much good things is happening to him - he's getting podiums, every weekend he gets better and better, he's getting married, now excepting a child and then I'm over here feeling like I'm fucking stuck in a place..I don't know." This is the first time that after 3 and a half months of knowing Charles he is showing his vulnerable side. He is finally opening up to me and we're finally having a meaningful conversation.
"Why are you feeling stuck in a place?"
"I don't know how to explain it. Nothing's pushing me forward, I feel empty. I feel like I'm waiting on something, but it's not coming." I'm trying to read between the lines what he is trying to tell with this, but unsuccessfully. "I'm fucking struggling."
"Charles.." I listen to him with a heavy heart and wish to hug him and wipe the sadness away. "I'm sorry that you feel this way. What about Ava? Shouldn't she be your motivation?"
"She should be my motivation." He says with a sneer. "Except that's not the case. I once wanted her to be the one to push me forward, but now I'm not even sure if I want it to be her. She's never fucking there and I got tired." I remember when Lando said that he's never talking about his relationship with them and yet here he is talking about it to me, almost a stranger to him, even though it's obviously painful for him to share his feelings.
"If the relationship no longer makes you happy and fulfilled, then why not put an end to it?" I honestly ask him dying to know his answer.
"It's not as simple as it seems. She's Ava Wolff." He says taking a look at my eyes. "And I would like to change the subject now."
"Okay." I decide not to push it. The time will come when he will say that too. "But, just so you know I like you tonight." I say trying to light up the mood and succeed when he chuckles.
"Really? Well I guess better late than never. But, just so you know I've liked you since the Monaco GP." He says and starts playing with the red bracelet I gave him that day for good luck remembering how devastated he was that day because he didn't perform well and his girlfriend wasn't even there at his home race.
I start to stir in place from his words trying to hide the fact that he made me blush. He notices it anyway and pulls himself closer to me.
"Why are you so nervous?" He asks calmly looking straight at me as I tried to look anywhere but his mesmerizing green eyes.
"I'm not." I say quite softly and uncertainly. He scoots even closer to me, so close that I can feel the warmth of his breath on the skin of m neck. He is facing me while I am facing the TV. My heart is beating so harsh I can feel it pounding against my rib cage.
"Y/n.."
"Hm?"
"I've been trying really hard to forget about it," He says, referring to the kiss we shared, as he moves a strand of my hair behind my ear and keeps his palm on my cheek. "I just can't seem to." Before I can even think of anything to say, our eyelids slightly start closing and our lips meet.
At that moment everything becomes less important, neither of us breaks the kiss, we decide to save the "this is wrong" and "we shouldn't, we have to stop" for later.
He kissed me so delicately, his lips softly brushed mine. He was so careful caressing my cheek with his thumb and the kiss was so tender leaving me wanting more.
"Charles.." I breathe out whispering.
"Don't overthink this, please. I'm dying to kiss you over and over again." His words were enough to erase any doubt in me whether I wanted this or not. They got me hooked eagerly wanting more of whatever this was. Once the kiss turned from gentle to passionate, then firmer and more determined, I knew I desperately needed him in every way that there is.
"I want you." I was trying to refrain from moaning since he hasn't even touched me properly yet and I was already a mess.
"You have me so easily. Come here." He pulls me into his lap so I straddle him without breaking the kiss. I worked my mouth against his while his hands were roaming my body under my oversized t-shirt. Once he reached the bra clasp he stopped for a second to take a look at my eyes asking for permission to remove it.
"Take it off." I whisper and seconds later the bra was thrown to the side. With one hand he cupped my breast and with the other he pulled me down making me grind on his stiffened crotch. He threw his head back groaning as I pressed myself against him.
"Fuck, take these off." He says tugging at the hem of my shorts. I obediently do as he orders, taking my t-shirt off along the way and in a matter of seconds I'm sitting in his lap only in my panties completely revealing myself to him. He takes a second to admire my naked body with hungry eyes and slightly parted lips eyeing me up and down.
"You're so beautiful, fuck." My heart flutters at his sweet comment even though I didn't want him to be sweet-talking to me. I wanted him to tell me how much he wanted me, what he would do to me, and how he wanted to have me.
His hand found its way to my panties rubbing me over them feeling the now already damp lace fabric. "You're soaking, is this for me? Have I made you feel this wet?" He wasn't even trying to hide the smug on his face. I gasp at his words and his touch, but he wanted to hear me. "Answer me."
"It's all for you." He pulls my panties aside and starts rubbing small and slow torturous circles on my clit.
"This isn't the first time that you're wet for me now is it?" He murmurs against my lips and I gulp panting. "I know it isn't. I know you've been thinking about me." He glides his fingers over my wet folds up and down before he slips his middle finger inside me. I wince at the the coldness of his finger, but soon start moving my hips against his hand.
"Look at you.. So hot, so eager for me. I've been getting hard thinking about you and your innocent lips wrapped around me even though they're anything but innocent." He slips another finger inside me and I almost finish right away at the profanities that he's telling against my skin. I start to unbutton his pants while he takes of his shirt. He lifts himself up on the couch and I stay down on my knees between his legs. I pull his boxers down his legs revealing the long shaft that sprung off his hitting his lower stomach. I decided to tease him a little and start working my tongue everywhere but the tip where he needed me the most. Once again he throws his head back in pleasure desperate for my touch around him and I enjoy every second of listening him moaning my name. I lick his balls and gently dig my nails into the skin of his thighs. He tries to grab himself, but I stop his hand and put it back on the side.
"Wrap your lips around me, you're driving me insane." I smirk as I see him on almost begging for me. It doesn't take long until I do ad he pleases taking his shaft and giving it a few strokes before I start bobbing my head up and down paying special attention to his aching red tip.
"You're taking it so well for me, so fucking beautiful." His words are prompting while he's moving hair out of my face and collecting it into a ponytail so he can lead my head. I continue doing what I was fastening my pace until he stops me taking my chin between his fingers.
"I don't wanna cum like this and if you continue I sure fucking will. I need to feel you around me. Do you want me to fuck you, hm?"
"Yes, Charles fuck I do." I pant as the aching feeling between my legs rises. He pulls me up by my elbows and I straddle him again as he pulls me again for another long kiss his tongue fiercely wrestling mine. He takes his shaft into his hand prepping it a bit before positioning it on my center. I don't wait for him to pull me down on him, I do it myself rolling my hips against him at first slowly so I can adjust to his length and enjoy every second of the feeling of him inside of me.
"Yes baby ride me, you're so good for me. You do it so good." Butterflies errupt in my stomach at him calling me baby. His thumb brushes over my lower lip and I hold onto his hand. His other hand slides down to rub circles on my clit again and I feel my legs starting to shake.
"Oh Charles, Charles.." I cry out his name clenching around him.
"Eyes on me." He lifts up my chin making me look him in the eyes while I come undone around him and he starts working his hips upwards wanting to prolong my climax. I try to squirm away as the excessive feeling of pleasure overwhelms me and sensitivity takes over. Charles stops me by tightly wrapping his strong arms around me hugging me and hiding his face in the crook of my neck leaving trail of small gentle kisses.
"That's it. You're doing so well for me. Can you keep going?" I nod my head yes and he's quick to turn me over and lay me down onto the couch. He pulls himself out of me and presses himself against my stomach his lips never leaving my neck. I tug on his hair with one hand and with the other slide my nails down his back.
"Kiss me." I plead and he does so. He teases me with his tip going over my now too sensitive and wet folds.
"Will you be able to cum for me one more time?"
"I don't know.." I whisper with a trembling voice. "But I don't wanna stop." That's all it takes for him to push himself deep inside me tiredlessly working his hips in and out of me.
"You're so fucking tight." He attaches his lips to my hard nipples flicking his tongue arounf them and nibbling on them making me whine out his name.
"Charles..oh yes."
"So fucking hot hearing you moan my name." He says. "Fuck, what you do to me..Touch yourself for me."
I slide my hand between us down to my clit making quick circular movements and the sight of me touching myself drives him completely crazy it has him rolling his eyes and panting.
"Fuck, baby I'm close, I'm gonna cum." He starts moving his hips faster hitting my walls making me clench myself around him and screaming out his name as I finish one more time. Seconds later he pulls out stroking himself at fast pace and cumming all over my stomach.
Barely catching his breath he gives me a peck on the lips before falling onto me and I close my eyes playing with his locks.
Leaving Charles on the couch, I get up and head towards the bathroom. I slide down my now completely soaked panties and step inside the shower. As the lukewarm water hits my skin, I let out a deep breath and close my eyes letting myself go through all the emotions that have accumulated in me in the last few hours.
Guilt washes over me because I don't feel guilty and because I know I'd do this all over again with him. I have never before experienced something so passionate, sensual, exciting and satisfying, something that left me wanting more of him. I find myself smiling thinking about him and what we just did, but even though i don't want to let myself expect anything, I forgive myself this time because i'm still under the impression of him tightly gripping my body, kissing me all over my neck and calling me 'baby'.
I hear the sound of the shower door opening and soon Charles' hands are resting on my waist and his lips are pressing against my shoulder. I smile tilting my head to the side.
"You're washing me off yourself already?"
"I was hoping you'd come." I turn to face him wrapping my arms around his neck. He leans in to kiss me only this time slowly and gently. "Can I ask you something?" I ask and he nods. "Are you drunk?" He chuckles at my somewhat funny question. It was clear to me that he couldn't get drunk from 3 cans of beer, I just wanted to check how aware he was of our actions. I wanted to get out of him how he felt about this, I wanted him to tell me something, even though at the same time I was afraid of what I would hear. I didn't want anything to ruin these moments, even though I was very curious and impatient.
"Drunk off of you only." I blush leaning my head into the crook of his neck, but he sensed what I was getting at. "Let's not think about anything and enjoy the moment, okay?" He presses a kiss to my forehead and I feel relieved although on the verge of overthinking this.
"Are you tired?" He asks quietly against the skin of my neck.
"A little bit." I gasp letting my eyes close. "Why?" Just as I asked the question, I felt him slowly pressing himself against me.
"Because I can't get enough of you." His tonuge slides over my bottom lip asking for permission and I let him in without any hesitation. "I want to hear you moan my name again." He says into my ear abruptly turning me around and pressing me against the shower wall. He pushes himself inside of me and starts thrusting in and out again further and further.
"Charles.." The slapping of our wet skin echoed throughout the bathroom.
"How are you so tight, fuck.." His pace picked up and I could feel both of us were close. "I'm close baby, I'm not gonna last long."
My back was arched and I held onto the glass with my palms. Soon my legs started shaking and his hips stuttering against me as we both finished at the same time. The moans filled the small space inside the shower as we were coming down from our highs. I was so weak, the strength in my legs long gone I would've fallen down if he hadn't held me.
"Are you okay? Talk to me." He asks gently caressing my cheek.
"I am." I smile assuring him with a kiss. "Let's take a shower and go to bed okay?"
"Okay."
After we showered and dried off with towels, we went to my room and got into bed. Neither of us said anything, he just pulled me close and held me tight around the waist as if I was going to run away any second. There wasn't even any need to say anything. Being in his arms, feeling his breathing on my skin felt so safe, so intimate that I wished this would never end.
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harunayuuka2060 · 9 months
Text
Levi: ...
Child MC: ...Levi?
Levi: A-Ah, yes. I'm sorry.
Child MC: *stares at him curiously*
Levi: Sh-Shouldn't you be with someone? It's dangerous to go out alone.
Child MC: I was with Mammon earlier and we got separated.
Levi: That idiot-
Levi: ...
Levi: Do you know the way back to the house of lamentation?
Child MC: *shakes their head*
Levi: W-Well then. I will take you there.
Child MC: *holds his hand*
Levi: !!!
Levi: What are you doing?
Child MC: There are many people.
Levi: R-Right. Don't let go of my hand or you'll be lost again.
Child MC: *nods*
Child MC and Levi: *have arrived*
Lucifer: Can't you remember where you left them?!
Mammon: No! I- MC! I have been looking for you!
Lucifer: Oh dear- *rushes towards them and carries them up*
Lucifer: Do you know how worried I was?
Child MC: Levi saw me in the street.
Lucifer: Thank you, Levi.
Levi: Yeah, yeah. Just be careful next time.
Child MC: Thank you, Levi. *smiles*
Levi: ...
Levi: *frowns* Don't smile like that! *runs to his room*
Child MC: ...
Child MC: *turns to Lucifer*
Child MC: Luci, did I do something wrong?
Lucifer: No. You didn't do anything.
Mammon: Yeah. Levi is always like that. Anyway, where were we?
Mammon: Don't leave my sight again!
Child MC: But you were the one who ran off...
Lucifer: Mammon.
Mammon: Eek!
Child MC: Beel, does Levi hate me?
Beel: Levi?
Beel: ...
Beel: No. I don't think he does. Why? Is he being mean to you?
Child MC: No. But he doesn't like it when I'm smiling at him.
Beel: ...
Beel: MC, you just need to understand him. Okay?
Beel: There's a reason why he's acting like that.
Child MC: Can't I know why?
Beel: Unfortunately, you can't. At least not for now.
Child MC: Okay.
Diavolo: Ah! My sweet child! How have you been?
Lucifer: They're doing fine, Diavolo.
Diavolo: *chuckles* You don't need to answer for them every single time, Lucifer. Right, MC?
Child MC: *nods*
Diavolo: Oh. By the way, can you guess why I'm here?
Child MC: You skipped work.
Lucifer: *laughs*
Diavolo: I-No. I mean, *clears throat* Papa Dia wants to take you on a vacation.
Lucifer: *immediately frowns* And where are you taking them?
Diavolo: To many fun and beautiful places?
Lucifer: *stern* Diavolo, they're starting school soon.
Diavolo: What do you mean by "school"? We already talked about this. They're taking private lessons.
Lucifer: I want to send them to a school in the human world.
Diavolo: That is infeasible. You can't be gone for long away in Devildom.
Lucifer: Yes. Yes, I can.
Child MC: ...
Child MC: *decided to leave them to their discussion*
Child MC: Levi?
Levi: *crying in "MC's" room* What are you doing here? This place is off-limits*
Child MC: I was on my way to my room.
Levi: *wipes away his tears* That doesn't explain why you're here.
Child MC: Why are you crying? *goes to sit next to him*
Levi: ...
Levi: I'm crying because I'm missing someone special to me.
Child MC: Oh. *sad frowns*
Levi: ...
Levi: You missed someone too?
Child MC: *nods* I'm wondering if he's alright. But it's Rapha so... he's probably fine.
Levi: ...
Levi: *pats their head* We're the same then. Our special someone left us.
Child MC: Is yours not coming back?
Levi: ...
Levi: Yes.
Barbatos: Hello, Luke.
Luke: I'm not here for pleasantries.
Barbatos: I'm aware.
Luke: Did you already forget about the agreement between the three worlds?
Luke: That no human should ever step Devildom again?
Barbatos: I'm afraid there was never an agreement like that.
Luke: But you had acknowledged it!
Barbatos: Yes. However, the young master strongly went against it.
Barbatos: I am merely a servant. My opinion doesn't matter to him.
Luke: ...
Luke: I shouldn't have believed your words then.
Barbatos: My apologies, Luke.
Luke: ...
Luke: I will continue to keep an eye on you. Remember that.
Barbatos: I will. *then watches him leave*
Barbatos: ...
Barbatos: It will never be the same anymore.
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larluce · 20 days
Text
Arthur and Merlin travel back in time without knowing the other is from the future too AU
Tagging @aceauthorcatqueen , @fallenxjas , @smileytrinity ,@lucifertookmyshoe , @an-entity-i-think , @thecornerofbelu , @griffonskies , @odinjm , @cinnabon-sweetroll-tiramisu , @thelady-mary , @bennedict , @nightninjaboy , @st8-of-grace , @star-rie , @error-username-not-available , @dogberryrowan , @jamieweasley13 , @tansyuduri , @tercais , @robynnemrys , @evadne01 , @serasvictoria02 , @hairdryerducks , @hopeaha , @curiously-lazy , @ harriettesthings , @andrealux16 , @wacko-weirdo , @greatdonutenemy , @yougottobekittenme , @anxiousosaurus , @kinkforwings , @someweirdassnamee , @impracticalantlers , @miyriu , @hobipabo
LINKS TO THE OTHER PARTS OF THIS AU HERE: PART 1 , PART 2 , PART 3 , PART 4 , PART 5 , PART 6 , PART 7 , PART 8 , PART 9 , PART 10 , PART 11 , PART 12 , PART 13 , PART 14 , PART 15 , PART 16 , PART 17 , PART 18 , PART 19 , PART 20 , PART 21 , PART 22 , PART 23 , PART 24 , PART 25 , PART 26 (You're here), PART 27
In the throne room.
Gaius: (enters and bows) Sire.
Uther: (At a table, offers him to sit next to him) It have come to my attention your ward is now quite popular above the people.
Gaius: I'm guessing you're referring to The Unicorn Catcher song, Sire?
Uther: (nods and sighs) Did you bring some of your concoction? (rubs his temples)
Gaius: (pulls out a little bottle from his pocket and starts mixing it with the drink Uther has already there) Sire, you don't really believe Merlin crossed pats with a unicorn, right? Because I can assure you-
Uther: Whether it's true or not is not really the problem.
Gaius: ... What?
Uther: If it's a lie, then that boy did a marvelous job to create himself a reputation portraying as a saint. If it's true, then he's been tempting my son with his virginity! I don't know which option is worst to be honest! This seductive demon-! (his eye tics)
Gaius: Drink. (gives him his drink) Just to get this straight, you aren't worry about the unicorn at all then, Sire?
Uther: (drinks it all in one go) Why would I worry about a horse with a horn wandering in the woods when the actual danger is here between the walls of this castle in the body of a peasant boy?! (stands up abruptly and looks at his vase frustrated) This thing isn't strong enough! (throws it away and Gaius flinches when it breaks) I know his kind, he gained my son's favor so when he becomes King he will turn him into his puppet king, or worst, he wants my son to make him regent so he'll have all the power! This boy is going to steal my kingdom!
Gaius: Sire, I promise you, Merlin is not that kind of person.
Uther: Really? Explain to me then why he dared to humiliate my son infront of his Knights? Tell me how that wasn't him showing off how much influence he has over the Prince of Camelot!
Gaius: (sighs, thinking) Of course he learned about that too. (says) Merlin is impertinent, I won't deny that, but he's not ambicious. In fact, if Merlin indeed encountered unicorn, that in itself would be prove of that. These magical creatures don't only feel attracted to the pureness in body, but the pureness in heart too. If Merlin had any malice in his heart it wouldn't have aproached him at all.
Uther: Oh, please! Why else would that boy humiliate himself to accept the affections of a man if not for his lust for power?
Gaius: Didn't it occur to your Majesty that for Merlin that's not an humiliation at all.
Uther: (frowns, confused) What do you mean?
Gaius: Well, Merlin has never showed any interest in girls, Sire. And, his status as prince aside, Arthur is a very handsome and attractive man. He also posseses very good qualities as a person. He's compassionate, brave, just, a very chivalrous man-
Uther: Are you trying to tell me that your ward is actually in love with my son?
Gaius: With all due respect, Sire, is pretty obvious that Arthur's feelings are not one sided. But you've been so absorbed in only thinking the worst of Merlin since he came here that you haven't realise that! I know my ward. He can be too dense and insolent for his own good, yes, but he's not a greedy person, much less a villain whose porpuse is to conquer an entire kingdom. He wouldn't even think of it. Merlin's heart is incapable of any evil.
Guard 1: (enters and bows) Your Majesty, Sir Silfred is here. He says he has important news for you.
Uther: Let him in.
Silfred: (enters and bows) Sire.
Uther: I'm hoping there's been a progress in your investigation.
Silfred: We still couldn't find any traces of Lady Sophia and Lord Aulfric, Sire. Not of them specifically at least. But we did find some dry blood stains deep in the woods.
Uther: They could be of anybody.
Silfred: That's what we thought. But then we found this nearby. (pulls out a purple neckerchief) It has stains of blood too. (gives it to Uther) Does it look familiar to you, Sire?
Gaius: (pales)
Uther: (analysing the fabric, icy calmed) It does... Thank you, Sir Silfred. You're dismissed.
Silfred: (bows and leaves)
Uther: (turns to Gaius) Your boy can be all chaste, Gaius, but he's definitely not pure hearted. He's evil in his very soul! And this is the prove! (throws the neckerchief at Gaius, who catches it in reflex) I knew something was off when Aulfric and Sophia dissapeared so suddenly and now I know why! He murdered them! He knew Sophia would be an obstacle for his plans so he got rid of her!
Gaius: (composes enough and stands up, firmly) I think you're running to conclusions, Sire.
Uther: Don't protect him, Gaius! Or are you going to deny this is his?
Gaius: It looks similar to the ones Merlin uses, yes, but Merlin is not the only person in Camelot that wears neckerchiefs.
Uther: True, but what about a purple one? Only royalty can afford purple fabric and there are only two royals in Camelot. And neither Arthur nor I wear this type of clothing. But we do know who likes to give expensive gifts to a certain servant.
Gaius: Even if it was Merlin's, we can't really be sure the blood is from Sophia and her father. You said it yourself, sire, it could be from anybody.
Uther: You dare to contradict me!
Gaius: All I'm saying is that in a court that wouldn't be enough prove to condem a person.
Uther: (yells) I am the King and therefore the judge and I say this is prove enough!
Gaius: (yells back) And would it be prove enough for Arthur?
Uther: ...
Gaius: (composes himself) I just fear, Sire, that if you condem Merlin based only on this evidence, Arthur won't accept it.
Uther: (sighs) I'm not naive enough to believe that Arthur doesn't know about this.
Gaius: (a bit nervous) What... what do you mean, Sire?
Uther: Sir Silfred is the best at finding traces and yet he could only find this piece of clothing and some blood stains. Even the smartest and strongest men can't hide a body that well in such short amount of time, let alone a skinny peasant boy. There's only one posible explanation.
Gaius: That he didn't do it?
Uther: That he had help! And not from other than my son, nonetheless! If Arthur's already, not only favoring, but covering him, we're doomed! that boy could even murder me and Arthur would let him!
Gaius: (thinking, worried) He's not stupid. It's incredible that he discovered what happened with so little clues, but his level of paranoia is worrying. He's right, but he's SO wrong at the same time. (says in a soothing voice) Merlin is no murderer, Sire. But even if he was, Arthur would never allow something like that, no matter how much he loves Merlin. You're not only his king, you're his father.
Uther: (grunts)
Gaius: But if you are so worried about my ward, Sire, why don't you talk to him?
Uther: (in disbelief) Talk?
Gaius: If you could take the opportunity to properly talk to him, maybe you'd realize he is not the person you believe him to be, Sire. Now you have this bad image of Merlin, but you haven't actually bother to know him.
Uther: Of course I haven't bother. He's a servant.
Gaius: But you fear the influence of said servant, Sire.
Uther: ...
Gaius: It's just a suggestion, Sire.
Uther: (sighs) Fine. (calls out) Guards!
Guards: (enter)
Uther: Bring the Prince's manservant here inmediatly.
Guards: Yes, Sire. (bow and leave)
Gaius: You could have sent me for him.
Uther: So you warn him in advance? No, I want to see his genuine reaction when a question him about this. (takes the neckerchief from Gaius' hands)
Gaius: Wait...you're going to interrogate him, Sire? 😨. That's not what I meant with "talking"!
Uther: I'm giving him a chance to defend himself, so be grateful.
Gaius: Of course I am, Sire. (thinking) Gods help me! Merlin please deny that neckerchief is yours!
Short time skip.
Merlin: (enters, confused but chill) Did you call for me, Sire?
Uther: You're talking to your King.
Merlin: I know.
Uther: Then why aren't you bowing?
Merlin: Oh, sorry. (bows quickly) Did you call for me, Sire?
Gaius: (facepalms internally)
Uther: I did call you. I have a very important matter to discuss with you.
Merlin: (more confused) Me?
Uther: (turns to Gaius) You are dismissed.
Gaius: (pleades) Sire-
Uther: Do as I say.
Gaius: (sighs) Yes, Sire. (bows and leaves)
Merlin: (starts worrying) What's... going on?
Uther: (about to pull out the neckerchief to start the interrogation) You-
Arthur: (enters and smiles politely) Sorry I'm late. What's the matter at hand?
Uther: I didn't call for you.
Arthur: But you call for Merlin and anything that concerns my manservant concerns me.
Merlin: (hisses) Arthur!
Arthur: (ignores him, but walks a few steps forward to be infront of Merlin) So, what is it that you want to discuss with my manservant so urgently, father? (keeps talking and smiling politely, but somehow he also sounds threatening)
Uther: (thinking) This won't work if Arthur is here. The boy will be confident he'll come to his aid. (says) I was just wondering if you knew anything about this song that's beeen circulating around lately.
Merlin: (nervous and blushing) You mean the Unicorn Catcher song, Sire?
Arthur: You called my manservant here just because of a tavern song? You must know that story is nothing but the product of some minstrel's imagination.
Uther: I'm very aware of that, Arthur. But that song is tainting your reputation.
Merlin: (sighs in relief, though still confused) But the song hardly mentions Arthur.
Uther: It mentions him enough. Now it's a song and then, last I thing I know, everyone in Camelot is saying that The Prince only takes young virgin boys to bed.
Merlin: (blushes more furiously, feeling humiliated)
Arthur: (notices and swallows his anger for the hiding insult to Merlin in Uther's words)
Uther: (to Merlin, aproaching) So, if you had anything to do with that song...
Arthur: (puts himself between Merlin and his father) It was Sir Ewan and Sir Innprudence who spreaded the rumor, father. Merlin had nothing to do with that. I already got them arrested for talking nonsense while drunk and causing all this mess, so you don't have to worry.
Uther: I did hear they were arrested. (sighs) That's all I wanted to know. You're dismissed.
Arthur and Merlin: (bow and leave)
Uther: (thinking) I need to find I way to get that boy alone, but how?
Time skip. Merlin, Gaius and Lancelot in Gaius' Tower.
Merlin: He found what?! 😨
Gaius: Your neckerchief, Merlin. And with stains of blood. So it doesn't look good.
Merlin: But that's impossible! Lancelot burned all the clothes!
Lancelot: I thought I did. But it was dark, maybe it fell while I was carrying the pile. (very guilty) I'm so sorry Merlin, I should've been more careful.
Merlin: Don't be. You saved Arthur's life and we didn't have much time.
Gaius: Uther won't arrest you, I convinced him to give you a chance to defend yourself. So when he calls for you again you just have to deny that neckerchief is yours and show him you are not the villain he built in his head.
Merlin: I need to tell Arthur. (makes a move to leave)
Gaius: (stops him) No! Uther wants to interrogate you alone, if you tell him he will sneak in again.
Merlin: I'll tell him not to go.
Lancelot: And you think he'll listen?
Merlin: I don't know. But he was involved in this too and I won't lie to him more than I need to. (leaves)
Gaius: Wait, Merlin! There's something else I need to tell you. Merlin! (makes a move to go after him)
Lancelot: (stops him) Tell me and I'll give him the message. I'll get to him faster.
Meanwhile, in Morgana's chambers. Arthur and Morgana having some kind of tea party, while Gwen braids Morgana's hair.
Morgana: (laughing) You men are so inmature.
Arthur: I was not inmature. He hit me first, I just defended myself.
Mogana: And then you fighted over who was Merlin's best friend. Yeah, very mature.
Gwen: I thought I was Merlin's best friend (pouts)
Morgana: You are his best GIRL friend.
Gwen: (mocking) So that means you are not his best girl friend?
Morgana: (plays along) How dare you! I'll fight you! (makes silly fighting movements)
Arthur: (complains) Stop it! (but can't help but laugh)
Merlin: (enters sudenly)
Morgana: Merlin! Knock first! I could be changing my clothes.
Arthur: Now you know what I have to endure everyday (looks at Merlin expression and frowns, worried) Merlin, what is it? (stands up and goes to him) Did something happen?
Merlin: Arthur-
Guard 1: (interrupts) Sire, The King wants you to interrogate a sorcerer in the dungeons.
Morgana: (feels mad and sad for what's probably going to be another unfair execution, but doesn't say anything)
Arthur: (notices) Lets discuss this outside.
Merlin, Arthur and Guards: (Get out of Morgana's chambers)
Arthur: (closes the door behind him) Can't it wait?
Guard 2: I fear not. It's a very dangerous sorcerer, we had to put him in cold iron, so the King wants to execute him as soon as possible. But he also wants to get as much information he can from him. Apparently he was the leader of a group of renegate soreceres.
Arthur: I understand. (to Merlin) We'll talk later. (makes a move to leave)
Merlin: (makes a move to go with him)
Arthur: (stops him) Merlin, no. Stay. I have to do this alone. (thinking) I don't want you to see that, nor do I want to put you in danger.
Merlin: You can't stop me. (thinking) Like I'm going to let you alone with a dangerous sorcerer!
Arthur: (sighs) Merlin-
Lancelot: (arrives running) Merlin! (takes a breath) By the Gods, you run fast. (bows to Arthur) Sire, I'm sorry, but Gaius needs Merlin urgently.
Arthur: (releaved) It's alright, Lancelot. I have urgents matters to attend too. (follows the guards and leaves)
Merlin: (about to leave but Lancelot stops him) Let go of me! 😡 Arthur is about to interrogate a dangerous sorcerer I need to be there! Whatever urgency Gaius has can wait!
Lancelot: There's no dangerous sorcerer.
Merlin: (stops struggling) ...What?
Lancelot: There is no dangerous sorcerer and there is no urgency. That's what Gaius wanted to explain to you. Is part of the plan.
Merlin: The plan? What plan?
In the dungeons. Arthurs goes with the guards to a cell, but finds it empty.
Arthur: Where's the prisoner?
Guards: Here. (push Arthur inside quickly and close the cell)
Arthur: (stands up, furious) What do you think you are doing?! 😡
Guard 1: (very apologetically) Forgive us, Sire. It was King's orders.
Arthur: Why did my father order you to lock me up in the dungeons?! I'm not strange to this punishment, but normally I know WHY I'm being punished.
Guard 1: This is no punishment, Sire. Your Majesty just doesn't want you to interfere in... some matters.
Guard 2: It will be just for a couple of hours, Sire. You don't have to worry.
Arthur: Interfere? Why would I... (pales and shouts) Merlin!
Meanwhile in the throne room.
Uther: Has the prince been brought to the dungeons.
Guard 3: Yes, Sire.
Uther: Perfect. Now bring the boy.
...
Finally we get back to the request list!
Arthur has to protect Merlin from his dad ☑︎
An he will continue to do it for the next parts because this shit is far from over!
What do you think is going to happen?
What was the hiding insult in Uther's words the Arthur catched?
Also, credits to my best friend Rosangela, who helped me with some dialogues and situations, no only in this part, but several ones. Love you so much! ❤️
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