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megalony · 14 days ago

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Merciless Wrath

This is a new Emperor Geta imagine requested by anon, thank you all for the lovely feedback on my Gladiator fics so far. I hope you will all like it.

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Part 2

Summary: Geta loves how timid his wife is when it comes to watching the Gladiators. But Hell rises when one of the fighters decides to shoot an arrow and hits the Empress.

Enjoy.

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If there was one thing Geta knew would get the people's spirits up and gain both Emperors some favour with their people, it was his wife.

The people's Empress.

Geta had never seen the people rejoice so much as when he married (Y/n). The people loved her; they admired her and her calm nature and philisophic words and how she could settle any argument and bring a sense of calm to Rome.

Which was one of the reasons he had asked her to come to the colosseum today. The people were rejoicing, Rome had expanded her victories and gained another country to govern and rule over. This was a week of victory games of all makes and sizes and extravagance and Geta knew the people would be even more hyped and excited if their Empress showed up.

It hadn't taken much for Geta to convince (Y/n) to come to the games. He knew fighting wasn't something (Y/n) enjoyed to watch. Seeing blood spill over the sand and limbs being torn and discarded. Guts being exposed and spilled onto the floor, screams of anguish and the stench of death. It was all overwhelming and disgruntling for (Y/n) to witness.

She didn't see the pleasurable side of watching men fight to the death and maim and torture one another. She didn't feel that pleasurable ecstasy that her husband and brother in law did when they watched the games.

But (Y/n) didn't want to oppose her husband. He had asked her so sweetly if she would attend the games and be there by his side. How could (Y/n) refuse? When Rome had just expanded her victories and both Emperors were celebrating and being praised, it was (Y/n)'s place to be here beside them. She couldn't stay back in the palace and miss out on the games when she should be showing her support and appreciation.

Which was why she was now stood in the viewing box in the colosseum, her hand entwined with Geta's and her cheek resting comfortably on his shoulder while she tucked herself close into his side. Her right hand curled around his exposed arm and she leant into his side as they overlooked the arena.

She couldn't help the smile that pulled at her lips when she glanced up at her husband. The smile he wore was somewhat wicked but devilishly so and it made his eyes narrow and crease as he looked onto their subjects. His lips were painted a pale shade of red and his features were the colour of milk with dark circles drawn around his eyes like a lunar eclipse.

His golden hair was neatly framed around his forehead and ears and the glittering crown he always wore was nestled neatly into his hair, making him every inch a God amongst humans.

(Y/n) liked the way Geta's rings flashed in the bright sunlight when he waved to the people, and the cuff on his left wrist which shone and sparkled like a twinkling star in the middle of the day.

Once the cheering of the crowds simmered down, they each took a step back towards the chairs set out for them. As always, (Y/n) took the centre chair so she was in between both Emperors.

It was so eerily strange to see the way Geta would sit straight with his chin pointed out and a stoic expression. Whereas when (Y/n) looked to her right at Caracalla, he sat like a child. One leg crossed over the other, slouched down in his seat with that sweet smile and his hands tapping away on the arm rests or clapping, depending on how exciteable he was.

Once she was sat down, (Y/n) leaned towards the left so she was nearer to Geta. She liked how, without taking his eyes off the colosseum, he slid his right hand towards her until his fingers curled around her own. He began to glide his thumb along the side of her hand and he squeezed every now and then while his other hand began to run along his chin and down the side of his neck.

"Okay?" He muttered and cast his eyes to the right to look over at (Y/n). Her smile dazzled him and he loved the feeling of her other hand moving so her fingers could trail up and down his arm that she was leaning against.

"Hm." She nodded and leant over to peck his cheek, an action that caused blood to rush to the surface beneath his painted skin.

(Y/n) wasn't going to be watching the games today. She would sit here and show support, but she would only be glancing down at the scene every now and then. She didn't mind seeing the start, the men gearing up to attack and the beginning of them toying and playing the part. But once the blood splattered and wounds were inflicted, (Y/n) would be looking away.

"Did I tell you that you look beautiful today?" Those words, whispered against the side of (Y/n)'s temple took her by surprise.

She could feel her heart igniting in her chest, especially when Geta kissed her temple and nudged his nose against her skin before he leaned back in his chair again.

She turned to face him, noticing that his gaze was trained dead ahead as the first gladiators were being announced, but he spared her a glance when he felt her staring. And the sight of her smiling bashfully made Geta's lips quirk up to one side.

"You might have mentioned it once or twice." (Y/n) was sure he had told her at least four times already, but each time he did he made her heart fluctuate and had adrenaline swarming through her system.

When the first game began, (Y/n) tried to watch. She clenched her hand around Geta's and sat forward in her seat to try and see properly. She may as well show an interest until the wounds started to become inflicted and she would have to look away.

It was soothing to feel Geta's hand periodically squeezing hers and how his fingers would dance and tap against her skin like he had far too much energy or as if he wanted to join in the games. That would be too dangerous, of course, but (Y/n) had seen Geta when he trained. He was a vision with a sword and even more so with that devilish smile and his opponent on their knees begging for their life.

It didn't take long for the blood to be shed.

A few minutes, if that, of prancing around the arena, taking little jibes and swipes at each other. That all came to an end when the shorter fighter made a move and sliced a cut against his opponent's arm.

(Y/n) was okay for the first minute or two, being in this viewing box game the perfect angle and view of all the colosseum, but it did have the advantage of being high up and far off. She didn't have to see the wounds up close or see the damage clearly.

But being up here did mean that when one man struck his sword right through the other's abdomen, (Y/n) saw the blade come out flush the other side of the man's back.

Her stomach churned and she did her best to steel her expression while she turned to look at Geta instead.

He was used to it by now. In fact, Geta loved that whenever they witnessed the games, he would always find his wife staring at him. It was enticing and invigorating to watch the games knowing that his wife had decided to study his features instead.

He would often turn and see her smiling at him or find a lost, dazed look in her eyes. Sometimes he felt (Y/n) lean her chin on his shoulder and she would begin to trace the scars, marks and freckles on his skin. She would draw patterns across his skin and leave little kisses here and there and simply get lost looking at him until the games came to an end.

(Y/n) shuddered a little when Caracalla's excited chanting of "Kill him!" broke through the air, but she managed a smile and kept her eyes on Geta. Who leaned forward to watch the gladiator's demise.

(Y/n) kept drifting her eyes around the arena and then looking back to her husband as the next game began.

These two opponents were more rugged and ruthless than the last. They began by roaring and baring their sharpened, blackened teeth and they wasted no time in using the instruments they had been given to beat one another.

She found it interesting how easily these men were willing to fight, knowing they had a high chance of death. Their morals were very disgruntled, in (Y/n)'s opinion.

She turned her head at the wrong moment.

Her eyes cast down to the arena at the precise moment one man sliced his sword through the other's arm. His hand and wrist fell to the floor in one swift movement and a large splurt of blood began to paint the sand.

A gasp broke past (Y/n)'s lips and she quickly spun to the left as a tremor rattled through her. Both hands surged up to deadlock in Geta's robes and she buried her face into his chest, not caring how childish it made her look or who saw her.

A crooked grin spread across Geta's lips and he took the time to look down at his cherished wife before he looked back at the arena. He slouched back in his chair just a little and moved his right hand until his hand was cupping the back of (Y/n)'s neck and he could weave his fingers into her tendrils of hair. His touch was light and soft and he tilted his head down to peck the top of her head while his other hand began to glide up and down her arm.

It pleased him how she stuck to him and burrowed into him when she didn't want to witness the massacre. It made him feel loved and protective over her, how she sought comfort in him like this.

His fingers continued to stroke through her hair and his thumb brushed the back of her neck. His other hand remained on her arm, drawing patterns and creating a distraction for her to focus on while his sights remained on the game.

Although Geta's eyes did glance down towards his wife when he felt her move. She finally pulled her face up from where she was burrowed into his chest so she could stare up at him with her chin pressing lightly against his sternum. His hand remained still at the back of her neck and he inclined his head to the side, silently urging her to speak.

"I- I'm sorry, I can't watch-"

"Don't apologise for not having a violent heart. It's endearing." Each word was murmured against her temple and it caused (Y/n)'s stomach to jump with delight.

He found her lack of violence endearing. He loved how she shied away into him and couldn't bear to watch the torment and slaughter. He loved how compassionate his wife was and how she was being herself so freely before him and their people.

Once the fight finally ended and what was left of both men were dragged from the arena, (Y/n) pushed up from Geta's chest, but she stayed close to his side. She sat with one leg crossed over the other and her body leaning to the left so she was able to move both hands and curl them around Geta's arm.

Her eyes flitted about the arena and the colosseum, taking in the sights of the people cheering, leering and sitting forward in their seats to witness the next game with vigor.

Her fingers began to tap and parade across Geta's arm in an attempt to keep her mind off the next fight happening down in the arena. Every now and then, (Y/n) snook a glance at the fighters. There were more of them this time. Six gladiators, all with different weapons.

They were spaced around the arena, clearly trying to perform a longer fight to gain more attention from the crowds and create a more sumptous fight.

Some had shields, a few had swords or small thin blades. And one had a bow and arrow. That seemed unfair. Such a unique instrument needed distance to be used, but if the other gladiators got too close, it wouldn't be easy to hit them with an arrow. The instrument would have to be used like a spear instead and impaled by hand to make a difference.

This game seemed to be fuelled by chaos. (Y/n) pulled away from Geta a little so she could look down on the gladiators. They were moving too fast to keep an eye on who was who and which one had which weapon.

Blood painted the sand but the wounds were inflicted too fast for anyone to see who had been hit and where.

There seemed to be confusion around the colosseum, but (Y/n) couldn't make head nor tail of anything that was happening. She could hear Caracalla's fingers drumming away on the wooden arm rests of his chair, clearly becoming impatient and possibly a little riled up. And she knew Geta was sat up straight once again with his head tilted forward so he could try and decipher the game and who the victor might be.

Raised voices started to brood within the arena, but (Y/n) couldn't work out why, and she wasn't so sure anyone else in the colosseum understood either. No one knew why people were shouting from within the tunnels and windows within the base of the arena. No one knew why people were trying to open the gates when only one gladiator had fallen so far.

But then it happened.

An arrow, shot from one gladiator in the arena which wasn't aimed at any of his opponents.

The glimmering silver arrowhead pierced the sky like a bolt of lightning but it was so fast no one really saw it move. They only heard the wind breaking apart as the arrow broke through the amosphere.

(Y/n) had no time to move or gasp or even see what was happening before it was too late. The arrow hit her. The sharpened metal arrowhead pierced through her skin and hit her with such force that her body shifted and her back slammed back into the chair.

Her head slammed back into the wooden chair with enough force to cause her vision to blackout. Her body trembled but somehow stayed rigid in place and her heels slammed down into the floor as if to steady herself.

She screamed. A horrible, deafening sound that cut Geta right to the core as if the arrow had impaled him instead.

Geta twisted to the right, both hands grappling with the arm rest as he leaned over his chair to look at his wife. It was hard to keep his eyes on (Y/n) when he could hear everything else going on around them and he was desperate to look around the colosseum. He wanted to see the gladiators, to work out which one had stepped so far out of line that they were already dead. He wanted to see if people were trying to move and get closer or if they were trying to evacuate the colosseum.

But when he forced his darkened eyes to look at his wife, all the air seemed to block Geta's throat and his chest convulsed as his nose crinkled in unbridled horror.

Someone had shot his wife. An arrow had been aimed at them, right at the viewing box where no one was supposed to be able to reach or harm them from up here. An arrow had been aimed with such precision that it had pierced (Y/n)'s skin rather than simply passing her by or hitting the chair or the glasses of wine beside them.

Had they been aiming for (Y/n), or simply trying to hit anyone in the viewing box? It didn't really matter. Whoever shot this arrow had sealed their own fate. Geta would take heads for this.

He could hear Caracalla screaming and it only enraged him further. He didn't need people screaming, he needed them to help.

(Y/n) emmitted another scream before Geta even dared to reach his hand closer to the wound. Her body began to tremble but all Geta could do was stare at the arrow impaled in her skin.

It had gone completely through and come out the other side and the end of the arrow was imbedded in the wooden chair. She was pinned; skewered like a piece of butchered meat. It was two inches below her shoulder, just above her collar bone.

The sight of the blood was what made Geta's stomach churn. Blood and guts never bothered him, it was a sight he somewhat craved to see. But never like this. A droplet of his wife's blood being spilled in such a manner made him feel sickened. It was abhorant.

When (Y/n) screamed again and her body broke out in trembles, Geta scrambled out of his seat and moved so he was hovering in front of her. Slightly hunkered down until their knees were touching and he was all that she could see. Becoming a protective shield in front of her, just in case any more arrows or weapons were shot their way.

"G-Geta… oow…" A broken whine left (Y/n)'s wet lips as she looked from her husband to the arrow imbedded in her skin.

It hurt. It hurt so much. All the blood pumping around her body seemed to be circulating to her shoulder and no where else. All she could feel was the trickling of blood slithering down her chest and the agony that was throbbing in her shoulder and throughout her chest.

She couldn't stop the shaking that was making her rattle back and forth against the chair.

Had this ever happened to anyone before? Had any other Empress or Emperor been subjected to such cruelty whilst watching the games like this? She was supposed to be safe up here, protected. The gladiators shouldn't be aiming up here, they knew better, they knew they would be tortured for even attempting this. Let alone managing to wound anyone of royal blood like this.

"Okay, okay stay still. Shh, love."

Geta reached a tense, cold hand up so he could cup the side of (Y/n)'s face that was stained with tears and becoming flushed and glistening with sweat with each passing second.

His other hand gripped her right arm with fever and he tried to look at the wound.

What was he supposed to do? How was he supposed to help her? He had no knowledge of this. Geta was trained and brought up on how to rule and govern his people, not on how to treat fatal wounds such as this.

"Get a healer!" Geta's voice boomed and echoed off the stone walls and his face started to turn scarlet, rising through the painted white make up that became almost non-existent compared to the amount of blood rushing to the surface.

His lips began to blush and his teeth sank down into his lower lip until blood was sticking to his teeth and welling up over his lips.

He was glad when everyone in the viewing box began to dissipate. Caracalla was guided out with Acacius and his wife while the two Senates at the back of the box left almost immediately, trying to push their way out first as if they feared a stray arrow aiming for them.

Only two guards remained in the box and Geta found the urge to dismiss them. They had been rendered useless. They hadn't helped stop the gladiator from causing this or stopping the arrow from hitting the Empress. They couldn't do much help now.

Another wave of tears poured down (Y/n)'s face and she tried to lean her cheek into Geta's palm, but she couldn't focus on anything but the pain. Her vision was starting to blurr before her and she could scarcely make out the golden hues of Geta's hair and robes. He was starting to look like a mirage in before her.

Geta scanned his eyes around the box, looking in vain to find something useful but he wasn't even sure what he was searching for.

How could he help her? What could he do? What was here that he could use to his advantage to make this better until the healer arrived?

There was a cloth resting on the table beneath a bowl of dried fruits and a pitcher of wine. With one swift pull, Geta tore the cloth from beneath the bowls and pushed up higher so he was level with the wound that was making him sick to his stomach.

"Okay, sweetheart I need to stop the bleeding."

(Y/n) seemed to both understand and confuse what Geta was saying at the same time. For when he scrunched up the cloth and pressed it down around the arrow, her mind seemed to short-circuit. Her body writhed as much as she could with her upper half pinned to the chair and her body turning on fire with each passing second.

A dribble of blood trickled past her lips when Geta pressed down hard on the wound and something feeble and croaky whined at the back of her throat. Both her hands moved to grip Geta's wrist and she tried in vain to push him back, to get him to relent because the feeling was agony. The pressure was too much, it felt like he was forcing the arrow further into the wound.

She didn't care if she bled out, she just needed everything to stop.

Her nails scratched into his wrist and she tried to push forward until the searing pain caused a white noise to blister in her ears.

"Shh, shh I'm sorry. I'm sorry I have to." The last thing Geta wanted was to hurt her, but he couldn't just sit here and let her bleed out.

He could feel tears welling in his eyes as he moved his right hand to press down on (Y/n)'s good shoulder while his other hand tried to keep the cloth pressed around the arrow that was making him feel infuriated with each passing second.

The cloth was turning red. The same shade as the silk woven into his robes. What was once crystal white was now splotched red and soon the entire cloth would be one big mess or crimson. It was a sight that churned Geta's stomach.

The harder he pressed, the more blood he could feel coating his fingers and becoming stuck beneath his nails like tar. And the more blood that coated his hand, the worse Geta began to feel.

He was going to lose her.

He was going to lose the most important person in his life simply because he didn't know what to do and someone had decided to hurt her. She didn't deserve this. That arrow should have been impaled into Geta, not her. Not his Empress.

When the word "Hurts," spluttered past (Y/n)'s lips, a choked sound emmitted from Geta in response. He could feel his heartbeat throbbing beneath his skin as he moved his hand back up to cradle the side of her face now that she wasn't thrashing or moving in her chair.

Instead, (Y/n)'s right hand was shakily clasped around Geta's wrist and her other hand was now gripping his other elbow. Her feet were scraping into the stone floor to try and steady herself while her back merged up against the back of the chair. Her chin tilted down as blood and saliva froffed past her lips and tears drenched her face.

Each breath she took made a horrible gasping, wheezing sound and her chest rose and fell so shallow Geta barely noticed the movements.

"Where's the healer?!" His voice raged out as his head snapped to look behind the chair his wife was now pinned against so he could see the two useless guards.

Why wasn't a healer here already? Why wasn't his wife already being seen to? What were they even doing?

"Emperor we- we don't have those kind of healers here in the colosseum."

The only healers they had at the colosseum were the basic ones. It wasn't in their interests to try and save every gladiator that got mortally wounded here in the colosseum. They patched up those who were fit to fight another day and they sent those who weren't down to the cells to live out their last hours.

The kind of healer the Emperor needed was one that would usually be on standby at the palace for the Royals or those who had enough money to pay for that kind of healing. Healers like that didn't wait around the colosseum, no one here had the means to pay for them.

"Then get one!"

They needed to speed up. They needed to get that healer now or heads were going to roll down the steps of the palace if the Empress wasn't saved. Geta would burn down all of Rome if his wife wasn't healed in time. Either they saved her or many of Rome would lose their lives.

When (Y/n)'s hand tightened around Geta's wrist, he looked back up at her with furrowed brows. He was met with frightened, watering eyes that made his stomach clench and had his chest tightening and wavering.

A bubbling cry left (Y/n)'s lips as she tried to tilt her head forward more towards Geta. Her fingers were leaving bruises on his wrist, but he didn't relent from the pressure he was applying to her wound. He couldn't. He wouldn't let her bleed out here and now. Not like this.

Pushing forward, he moved his hand round to cup the back of her neck and he attached his lips to her temple as he tried to think. He hushed each breath against her flushed temple, trying in vain to calm her down just a little while a thought came to his mind.

He tightened his hand around the back of (Y/n)'s neck and gently inched her head forward until her temple was pressing into his shoulder. It allowed him to look over her back and see the back of the wound. Blood was already soaked into the back of her dress and leaving a trail down her waist.

He couldn't let her bleed out in this chair.

He finally released the pressure from her wound so he could hold his hand out at his side and click his fingers towards one of the guards.

"Knife, now."

When one of them handed him the thin knife that had been resting by the fruit bowl, Geta moved it down towards the arrow.

He heard (Y/n) mutter his name in confusion, each strangled breath fanning against his shoulder so he could feel her hot breath on his skin. Her lips were burrowed against his shoulder, dampening down her cries as she was too distressed and dazed to try and lift her head to find out what her husband was trying to do.

A howl left (Y/n)'s lips and her body began to tremble and writhe when she felt the arrow move. It was only a small jolt up and down but it was enough to set fire to her nerves that felt like they were shrivelling up into nothing.

But she was surprised when she flopped against Geta and felt no resistance. Her body wasn't being pinned back anymore. When she leant forward, her body followed her head and she fell into Geta's chest with a thud and her left arm weakly curved around the back of his neck. While her other arm stayed pinned between their chests, too agonised to lift the limb very far.

Geta cut the end of the arrow. He couldn't care less about the arrowhead that was still imbedded in the chair. He just had to free his wife so he could remove her from here and find a healer.

He had to move her now.

"Find me that healer." His words were dangerous and one guard automatically bolted to try and source out any kind of healer. One had been sent for, but there was no telling where said healer was or how long it would take for them to get here.

Geta's attention moved back down to (Y/n) as he cocooned his left arm around her waist and his right arm pinned over the back of her thighs. He slid her off the chair until she was leant into his chest and slumped over his lap, allowing him to pick her up bridal style.

He had done this a few times, but never like this. Never when his wife was on the brink of death.

Her face burrowed into his shoulder, but she could still see the arrow sticking out of the cloth that had been wrapped around the wound to try and stem the bleeding. She could see the shaved feathers on the end of the wood to help it soar through the air like a message from the Gods.

Had she done something to offend them? Was this some kind of punishment? Was (Y/n) truly going to die from this affliction?

If that were so, then (Y/n) wanted to stay in Geta's arms. She wanted to stay in his embrace if she was dying. She wanted to die with him as close as possible, guiding her into the next life.

That thought had tears trickling down her features and soaking into Geta's robes and the moment he felt her tears, his brows furrowed and he glanced down at her. She didn't need to be crying. She shouldn't be afraid, he was going to get her help. He was going to make sure that she was okay. He had to.

He did his best not to move (Y/n) too much as he stormed out into the corridor and followed the guards urging him their way. Hopefully they had a healer nearby or some destination in mind that would help.

It was hard to control himself, to not start screaming in torture and to stop from digging his hands into (Y/n)'s flesh and leaving marks and bruises in his wake. He didn't want to hurt her. That was the last thing on his mind, but he felt like if he didn't hold her tight enough, then she might slip away from him forever.

When he turned a sharp corner, he let his gaze fall down to his wife when he realised she wasn't crying or sniffling into his shoulder anymore.

"Hey, hey you keep those eyes on me. You hear me?" There was something authoritiative in his voice that sent shivers coursing through what was left of (Y/n)'s nerves. It made her do her best to blink and try to look up at him, but it was hard.

Her left arm that was loosely draped around the back of his neck twitched and her fingers tried to move and brush against the back of his neck.

Geta began to shake his head from left to right when he realised where the guards were taking him.

They were guiding him out of the colosseum. There was no healer nearby. They would be trying to usher him back to the palace. If that was their plan they'd better move at lightning speed because Geta was willing to kill everyone who failed to help save his wife, no matter how little their roles were in this trifling day.

"(Y/n)!" He seethed through gritted teeth the moment he stepped out the doors and was faced with a carriage waiting to take them back to the palace which was thankfully nearby. "Sweetheart, please, please stay awake."

Tears glistened in his eyes and he almost screamed when one of the guards tried to help him. He didn't want help carrying his wife, he wanted help finding a healer and arranging help.

He eased down into the carriage with (Y/n) laid across his lap, her cheek still resting on his shoulder and his arms encased around her body to hold her close. He didn't want to let her go. Not for a moment.

"Hold on for me, hm? I love you." His words were hushed against her temple as he began swaying them both from left to right.

And he tried to make sure she was stable with his left am propping her up against him so that his right hand could try and apply pressure to the wound once again. He hated the little mewl that it caused her to emmit but at least the pain was keeping her somewhat conscious and alert with him. His lips attached to her burning temple and he tried to close his eyes.

But all Geta saw when he closed his eyes was the vision of blood. He could see the blood painting her golden dress that she only wore to match him and show her support of her Emperors and of Rome. The beautiful golden thread and silk were tainted with so much blood that it looked positively black.

As insisted and expected, it didn't take long to get back to the palace which was only a short trip away. Any longer and (Y/n) might not have made the journey back.

The moment the coach pulled up and the door opened, Geta clambered down with his wife still tucked up in his arms.

The words "I love you," were whispered against the top of her head over and over as at least six guards surrounded him to provide assistance and guidance as they stormed into the palace.

It surprised Geta to find Caracalla and General Acacius already here in the palace, but then again, they had been ushered out first. And they looked so fragile and out of breath that they couldn't have been here very long. A few minutes at most.

"This way, Emperor."

Geta's steely eyes tore away from them both and he looked ahead to where the guards were guiding him.

Each step felt like a step closer to Hell. He felt like he was guiding his wife personally to her demise. All he wanted to do was save her but Geta wasn't so sure anymore that it was possible.

Tears streamed down his face, slithering and melting into the make up that was starting to fade and run down towards his neck. Allowing streaks of bright pink and red to light up his features like scratches where the blood was rising to the surface.

He followed the guards down another corridor, sure that he could hear his twin somewhere close behind them. Geta's sandals echoed and stomped against the marble floor that was littered with droplets of blood like breadcrumbs to find their way back to the carriage.

But just as he neared the room all the guards seemed to be surrounding, Geta's steps faltered and his eyes snapped down to look at his wife.

Her cheek was still pressed against his shoulder, but her eyes had rolled to the back of her head.

And he couldn't feel her breaths on his skin anymore.

His rabid eyes scanned across her face and chest a million times, but she wasn't breathing. He was sure of it.

"No, no don't do this to me!"

A rendition of "You can't do this!" And "You're not allowed to leave me!" Roared past Geta's lips as he stormed towards the room that felt like his last beacon of hope. His last glimpse at salvation before he lost himself into oblivion.

His body was shaking, seething with anger, betrayal, panic and absolute desperation as he barrelled into the drawing room and collapsed down on his knees on the floor. He laid (Y/n) over his lap, refusing to move his arms from around her. He couldn't let them take her in case he never got her back again.

"She isn't breathing- do something!"

Everyone in the room flinched at his tone and his barbaric expression which told them that if the Empress didn't live, then none of them were going to leave this room. Their only chance at salvation was to save (Y/n).

Guards posted either side of the door which slammed closed right after Caracalla and General Acacius hurried inside.

Two healers were stood at the far table, concoctions and remedies laid out before them that they were trying to perfect with trembling hands. And Caracalla moved so he was stood close enough to his twin that his presence was felt, but not close enough to reach out. He didn't know what to do. One arm bound around his waist and the other pinned his hand against his mouth so he could bite down on his thumb anxiously.

A third healer knelt down in front of Geta who he looked to for permission before he dared to reach out and touch the Empress.

He seemed to agree that she wasn't breathing- as if Geta was stupid enough to mistake something like that.

There was no time for Geta to question or ask what was on the rag that the healer was now pressing over (Y/n)'s mouth and nose. Or the tonic he dripped into her mouth and the salts he wafted beneath her nose. The utter concoction seemed to do the trick in shocking (Y/n)'s system as a strangled, desperate breath caused her chest to inflate and her head pressed back against Geta's shoulder suddenly.

With his hand cradling the side of her face, Geta held (Y/n) close and attached his lips desperately to the top of her head. He pressed kiss after kiss against her temple and hairline and did his best not to start rocking back and forth as that would disrupt the healer before him.

Tears streamed down his features as he tried his best to control his own breathing and settle his system. But (Y/n) was frightening him. He had never been this frightened of anyone dying before. He had been saddened when his mother passed, joyful when his father died and slightly inconvenienced when any servants passed who he was close to.

But Geta knew if he lost his twin or his wife, then his world would end too. He would burn down all of Rome and then kill himself if he lost them.

"On the sofa, if you will, sire."

Geta didn't need to be told twice. He slipped his arms back around (Y/n)'s frame properly and eased her up from his lap so she was properly in his arms once again. His lips glued against her temple and he moved to lay her down on the sofa in the corner of the room.

Once she was laid out, he moved to sit behind her and laid her head on his lap wit his hand brushing up and down her arm to try and keep her soothed and calm.

He hated each whimper and mewl that she let out when the healer touched the arrow and tried to assess the damage to know how to treat her.

"The opium; a lot of it." The healer waved his hand at one of his fellow colleagues behind him but he didn't like the look he was faced with when he glanced up at the Emperor.

"Is that wise?" Geta didn't want to contradict a healer, he truly didn't because this wasn't his forte. He wasn't sure how this could be treated or how they were going to save his wife. But he knew what opium would do. Geta knew it would render his wife unconscious in a deep sleep that would be hard to wake her from.

That wasn't the problem. The issue was that she had just stopped breathing. Giving her opium might induce that breathless state again, Geta didn't want her to be sedated and then needing to be woken up by strong substances again or by lethal forces if she stopped breathing.

"I have to remove the arrow, Emperor. The opium is necessary, I fear the pain would kill her." He hated to be so blunt, but if they didn't sedate her and she stayed conscious, the pain might be too much for (Y/n)'s heart to take.

She was already close to death as it was. Another burst of pain, another bout of bloodloss and she could die and they would have a hard time bringing her back round again.

Geta silently nodded his head and moved his hands down to rub up and down (Y/n)'s arms. He felt the way she writhed on his lap and he leaned over her so he could press his lips to her forehead.

He was sure she tried to murmur his name and he hummed against her temple, trying to keep her calm while the healer got a vile of opium ready.

"Take this, sweetheart, and you'll feel better. I'm not leaving you, I promise. I won't go anywhere."

Geta knew she hated being alone, much less being alone and in agony like this. But he wasn't going anywhere. He wasn't leaving her for one single moment until he knew that she was out of harms way and the Gods weren't going to try and claim her.

He would pray. If that's what the Gods demanded, Geta would pray right here and now. He would take pilgrimage down to the temples and pray to each and every God in Rome if they would spare his wife. Once she was better, he would pray and leave gifts and sacrifices at their temples if they would do him the honour of sparing his life and letting him life without a broken heart. He couldn't lose her.

She was Geta's heart and soul and if anything happened to her, then all of Rome would suffer under his merciless wrath.

His thumb glided across (Y/n)'s cheek while the healer held a vile of opium to her lips. Geta coaxed her to take the drug while his lips stayed against her temple and his thumb moved to brush along her lower lip that was smeared with blood as she coughed once the drug was in her system.

It didn't take long for her body to go lax and still against him and the sight was horrifying because there was on guarantee that she would wake up.

Geta didn't even know what her last words had been to him. Had it been his name? Had it been a cry of agony? Had it been her telling him how much torturous pain she was in?

The thought had him in tears once again and he brushed his arm beneath his eyes and across his face. Smearing make up across his face until streaks of white, red and black smudges were painted across his face.

Another healer came to hover by for added assistance and watched with a little too much eagerness for Geta's liking.

Geta rolled his lips together and braced himself when he watched the healer checking the arrow. He seemed to make sure the cut at the back of the arrow was clean and it was a clear cut through (Y/n)'s skin. He checked for any bone damage, none of which could be found.

He then braced one hand on (Y/n)'s right shoulder and the other gripped the end of the wooden arrow that had caused so much anguish in Rome today.

Geta couldn't help the way he grimaced and coughed in despair when the arrow was yanked free from his wife's skin with one swift tug. The healer examined the stick of wood which thankfully hadn't broken or splintered, making their work much easier. But when he went to discard it, Geta surged across and took it.

He set the arrow down behind him on the small table. Geta needed that. When the gladiator was caught who had caused this disgrace, Geta would be using that arrow on him. He would show him where it could be impaled to cause the maximum amount of pain. He would make the gladiator see his Empress's blood and see why his death would be so very painful and enduring.

"If you could, Emperor."

Those words brought Geta out of his thoughts and he frowned, unsure what he was being asked until he looked down at the healer's hands.

He nodded and helped to turn (Y/n) onto her left side so her cheek was pressing into his thigh. One hand stayed on her chest and the other held her lower back to keep her in place, allowing the healer a clear view of both sides of the wound that was now pouring blood down her dress.

A grunt of disproval left Geta's lips when the healer slid the strap of (Y/n)'s dress from her shoulder to expose the wound properly. He restrained himself from digging his fingers into her flesh again and from pushing the healer away from his wife. He didn't want anyone touching her, but he didn't seem to have a choice.

Geta was rather relieved she had been given the opium now. As much as it made him fear her eyes never opening again and her breaths ceasing to exist, they were right. It was better for her this way. Tearing the arrow from her skin would have sent her into shock.

And now, with the healer slowly stitching up the small circular wounds on her back and chest, it would have driven (Y/n) into maddening agony if she had been awake or somewhat lucid for this.

The skin was already starting to swell once the thread was binding her skin together which had gone tight like a canvas being pulled too tight over a wooden frame.

"This paste should prevent infection and quicken the healing." The thick herbal paste the healer lathered on both wounds looked sickly and gut wrenching, but Geta didn't care as long as it worked.

He watched with growing distaste as the paste was lathered onto (Y/n)'s bruised skin and a roll of bandage was carefully applied to her skin. Two thick bandages were wound over and under her armpit and across her collar bone to cover the expanse of the wound and it looked rather tight, but Geta supposed that was the point.

"When she wakes we will give her some tonic, and she shouldn't move her arm too much until the wound heals."

"You'll stay to observe her." It was more of an order than a request, but there was a sense of vulnerability in Geta's voice that caused the healer to smile softly. His Emperor looked fragile rather than frightening when he spoke just now.

"Of course, sir." None of the healers would be going anywhere until the Empress was out of danger. They would be here for the next few days, they suspected.

Geta wanted them nearby just in case anything were to go wrong or (Y/n) took a sudden turn. But he would be the one applying the paste to her wounds and changing her bandages when she needed them. He wasn't going to be leaving her sights, he would be the one caring for her. None of the maids or servants were going to get close to the Empress for the next few weeks.

The healer retreated to the corner table, busying himself with preparing some tonics and more paste for when the Empress would stir.

General Acacius took a step closer to the Emperor, his hands bound in front of him and a sense of panic on his face when he looked at Geta. The Emperor looked like he was starting to shake. He had one hand carding through his wife's hair, but his other hand was clenched into a fist which was pressed against his mouth as if to stop himself from screaming.

And when Geta's head snapped towards the general, a fiery vengeance could be seen burning within his darkened pupils.

"Find the one who did this! I want to string up the barbaric hound myself for what he's done to her!"

He wanted the gladiator responsible brought to the palace so Geta could deal with him personally. He would bleed him dry and quarter him and burn him and throw him to the dogs. Geta would do anything and everything he possibly could to inflict the worst pain onto the barbarian who thought he could get away with trying to murder the Empress.

He wasn't going to get away with this.

#imagine #emperor geta imagine #geta imagine #emperor geta x reader #geta x reader #emperor geta #emperor caracalla #gladiator imagine #gladiator ii #gladiator movie #gladiator 2 #joseph quinn x reader #joseph quinn imagine #joseph quinn

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toomuchracket · 10 months ago

Text

if you're too shy (office nerd!matty x reader fluff)

in which the other music journalist at the magazine you work at is the cutest weird boy you've ever met. enjoy <3

in hindsight, coming back from a two-week holiday the same day the magazine goes to print was a misguided idea.

your editor-in-chief tells you as much when you enter the office, pulling you into a half hug. “don't get me wrong, it's lovely to see you,” she says, scraping her hair back into a bun and securing it with a pencil. “but you'll be doing nothing all day, i'm afraid. maybe some last minute proofing, but i think everyone in nightlife and reviews has been alright. double-check with marianne.”

you do just that, weaving your way through people running copy and coffee between departments until you reach your own. it's mercifully quiet compared to everywhere else, the ten or so people dotted at desks around the sunlit room looking at their laptops and wearing headphones; you actually have to flick marianne on the back of the head to get her to notice you. “oi.”

“who the- oh, hi!” marianne's face softens when she sees it's you, and she stands to pull you into one of her infamously bone-crushing hugs before pulling back to get a good look. “well, you look annoyingly well-rested. but i suppose a fortnight in a spanish villa will do that to you. bitch.”

“i had a great time, thanks for asking,” you grin. “how’s everything been with you? stressful, without your star reporter?”

“well, for starters, you've been succeeded for that title.”

you frown only half-jokingly, scanning the room to try and guess which of your colleagues has replaced you as marianne's unofficial favourite. “who the fuck…?”

“language,” she lightly slaps your arm, in spite of the fact she was just about to say the same thing, then smiles suspiciously. “and i’m talking about our newest recruit.”

the brewing annoyance in your stomach dissipates immediately, replaced by a flock of tiny butterflies. “oh,” you try to keep your smile to a minimum. “that's okay. i like him.”

marianne sees right through you, though. she rolls her eyes. “oh, you would.”

“what?”

she sighs, motioning for you to lower your voice and modifying her own to a whisper. “he’s a curly-haired pretty-eyed vaguely scrawny white boy. you'd like him even if he didn't think the sun shone out of your arse.”

“marianne!” you hiss. “he does not!”

“don’t act all indignant, he has literally looked over at you once every thirty seconds since you walked in - and don't look, idiot, you'll freak him out. we need him on the ball, today of all days,” she rubs her eyes. “but yes, he’s very good at his job. i like him, even if i've no idea what in the world he goes off on his tangents about. great writer.”

“yeah, he is,” you risk a glance towards him, but all you can see is the back of his laptop - covered in stickers for things you can only name half of - and dark curls peeking out from the side of his headphones. “i like the references. different perspective from me, innit? that's why we hired him, after all.”

“who's we? you were too pissed off that i was hiring another music critic to agree to be part of the interviewing panel.”

you'd love to disagree, but you really were pissed when marianne and the other editors told you they were expanding the nightlife section. it didn't matter that it was in response to an increase in funding and readership, with the magazine switching to a print format as well as the online edition you'd contributed to since its creation - your fierce independence and pride meant you didn't take the news well, made you think it was an issue with your competence and writing ability that meant you'd be getting a new colleague. but once you were reassured that you'd still get to keep the Big Gigs and restaurant reviews to yourself, you were slightly more agreeable to the idea.

and once you actually met the new guy, stumbling over both his words and his own feet as he introduced himself, you couldn't quite remember why you'd been opposed in the first place.

“well,” you say, snapping back into reality. “thank goodness i'm over it now.”

“because you want to get under him?”

“no!” you stand indignantly, and then grin. “on top, maybe.”

“good grief,” your boss shakes her head. “don't you go bringing it up to him - excuse the pun - before this edition goes to the printers,” she points at you as you move to walk away. “or talking to him at all until then, actually, you hear me? i love you, but you're a distraction to him, and he's my best journo.”

“he's not, but alright,” you pat her head as you walk back towards the door. “i'll be in the staff room if you need me. and i won't talk to anyone, mum, i promise.”

“i'm only five years older than you!”

“whatever you say!” you reply in a singsongy voice, giggling to yourself as you wander towards the sunny kitchen. the little radio on the windowsill is on, as it always is, and you nod along to the cure while you wait for the kettle to boil. once you've made a cuppa (and grabbed a slack handful of the chocolate digestives marianne always keeps the cupboard stocked with), you settle at the table with your laptop, typing out ideas for your next feature and doing your best not to think about the boy down the corridor you've been instructed not to talk to for the time being. for the most part, you succeed.

that is, until he walks into the staff room two hours later.

you frantically wipe your face of biscuit crumbs as he does, smiling as sweetly as you can for someone with no idea if she has chocolate on her teeth or not. “hi, matty. how are you?”

“oh, hi! i'm, uh, i'm alright,” matty smiles widely enough that his verbal emotional downplaying is blatant - still, he's so cute, beaming at you like that with his little sweater paws. he’s always in a jumper or cardigan or hoodie of some kind, and on more than one occasion in the three months you've known him, you've absolutely thought about literally cosying up into him instead of doing any work. “how was spain? and the wedding - it was a family wedding you were going to, yeah?”

“that's right,” it’s not a big deal, but you glow at the fact he remembered. or maybe it's the soft intent he looks at you with. “it was lovely, yeah. although - wait, have we gone to print?” you ask, suddenly recalling marianne's instructions. “i'm not keeping you from work?”

matty's curls bounce as he shakes his head, light hitting off the metal hoop in his earlobe (that you're only mildly obsessed with). “we've gone. i'm just in here to get my lunch,” he pulls a tupperware from the fridge, cheeks rosy as he waves it. “made some soup last night.”

he makes his own soup. the thought is so endearing that it takes everything in you not to sigh; you settle for a smile. “carrot and coriander?”

“you can tell from one glance?”

you shrug. “s'my favourite.”

“really?” matty's face seems to light up. “mine too,” he busies himself with putting the tupperware in the microwave, taking his time pressing buttons and turning dials before looking bashfully at you. “so, you had a nice time at the wedding, then?”

“i did, thank you. do you, um,” you start, suddenly shy. “d'you want to see some photos from it, while you're waiting for the soup to heat up?”

he nods back just as shyly, sitting quite awkwardly on the seat next to yours; while you open your photos app, matty twists a stray curl around his finger, and the movement seems to send your nerves into vibration as well as the molecules in the air. with a series of shallow breaths, you locate the folder of the wedding pictures and set your phone on the table. “feel free to flick through them, if you like.”

“thank you,” matty sits forward, carefully swiping through the album. you lean on your elbow, doing your best not to beam adoringly at the way he looks intently at each photo before moving to the next. “the venue is really beautiful.”

“yeah, it was stunning.”

the next picture is one of you in your bridesmaid dress, taken by your sister the morning of the wedding. you watch, slightly heartsick, as matty's mouth falls open as he looks at you; the feeling worsens when he tentatively does the same thing in real life, those pretty eyes of his sparkling as he smiles softly. “so are you. really. like,” he looks down at the photo again, shaking his head slightly before looking back up at you. “that colour is beautiful on you. honest. you look incredible.”

“thank you,” the words come out in a whisper, and the two of you silently smile at each other for a moment until you clear your throat. “um, there are more of the official pics on my instagram, let me… actually, do you have my private account?”

“oh, no,” matty shakes his head again - god, you love the way his hair moves. “just the one for your writing.”

“well,” you tap on the app with an almost-imperceptibly shaky finger. “that's the username there, if you'd like to follow. no pressure, of course. don’t wanna fuck up your algorithms or anything.”

your nervous chuckle at the end of the sentence turns to a giggle when you see matty's face as you share your username; it lights up so much that you'd be forgiven for thinking he'd just won the lottery. he pulls his own phone out and taps away at it. “you don't have to follow me back, by the way,” his cheeks flush a deep red, a beautiful colour. “m'not posting anything interesting.”

doubtful. he might be one of the most interesting people you've ever met, all talent and sweetness and a wealth of cultural understanding wrapped up in a sweater and a pretty face. “no, i'd like to.”

“alright. thank you,” matty's cheeks seem to get even redder as he watches you hit follow back, face twitching as though he’s trying to stop himself smiling too big. when the microwave dings, he all but skips over to it, almost tripping over the leg of his chair in a sweetly awkward way; he swears under his breath when he lifts the steaming container out, turning back sheepishly to look at you. “sorry.”

“don't worry,” you grin at him, feeling slightly bold. “i still think you're sweet when you swear.”

he giggles, and the noise makes your heart leap; in addition to being one of the most interesting people you think you've ever met, matty healy is without doubt the cutest. watching his lips pout in concentration as he stirs the soup and checks the temperature, you briefly imagine what they would feel like against your own, how he would be if the two of you were to kiss. just as giggly and endearingly awkward as he usually is, you think - eager to please, lips and tongue a little sloppy and unsure but enthusiastic enough for you not to mind, slightly unsure of where to put his hands so as to not make you uncomfortable… the scene is as clear as day in your head, and you really, really want to recreate it. you'd devour him right now if you could, the sweetheart.

and then, matty reaches up to get a bowl from the shelf, the hem of his shirt goes with him, and your want to devour him suddenly takes on a less pg-rated meaning than it did a second ago.

he has a fucking hip tattoo.

you’re pretty sure it's only a sliver of the full design you can actually see, but the hints of red and blue and black ink and the glimpse of his happy trail are enough to fuck you up completely. as you register what you're seeing - what you're discovering about the seemingly buttoned-up, shy, unassuming-to-everyone-but-you matty - your breath catches in your throat, forcing you to cough quite obviously on the mouthful of lukewarm tea you'd just taken. one cough turns into another, and you clap a hand over your mouth to make your tattoo reaction attack the least obvious it can be.

still, the ever-perceptive man across the kitchen notices, running over to crouch in front of you with concern filling those beautiful eyes of his. “you alright, darling?”

darling?! no, you most certainly aren't alright.

but you can't tell matty that, so you stick to gesturing to let him know you'll reply once you've managed to swallow your tea. “i am, yeah, thanks. tea just, y'know, went down the wrong way.”

matty tilts his head. “you sure?”

“yeah,” you smile, slightly embarrassed. “really. thank you, though.”

“of course,” he smiles in return, knee brushing lightly against your leg as he steadies himself; he looks down, eyes widening as he registers how close the two of you are, and quickly stands. “i'd better, y'know, get my lunch.”

you nod, despite the strange loneliness settling into your bones at the lack of him next to you. “i can head back to the office, if you want peace?”

“no, no, please stay!” matty all but gasps, turning to look at you like a deer caught in headlights - he clears his throat, blinking a few times before speaking again. “please don't feel the need to leave on my account, i mean. or feel obliged to talk, really - i was just going to read.”

“you're sure i won't be a bother to you?”

matty smiles warmly, shaking his head. “that'll never happen.”

christ.

“okay,” you whisper, winking at him - and savouring the little giggle that bubbles out of him when you do - before turning back to your laptop.

matty settles at the table a minute or so later, pulling a paperback from his back pocket and holding it open quite attractively with one hand. you peek over the rim of your laptop at him every so often, never for more than a couple of seconds at a time; partially to avoid the mortification of him catching you, but mostly because if you look at him any longer you know your mind will wander back to that fucking hip tattoo of his, and what it might look like completely visible to you, and what it might feel like under your lips, and what noises matty might make if you slowly dragged your tongue all over it before moving to the side to lick a wavy line up the length of his-

enough. he's literally right there.

the room feels hot, all of a sudden, your cheeks flushing and throat drying to match. on only slightly shaky legs, you pick up your waterbottle and head to the water fountain, crouching as best you can to fill it. even though he stays silent, you can feel matty’s eyes on you from across the room, but it doesn't bother you or freak you out in the way that other men ogling you at a water fountain would - it's quite obvious that matty has some sort of more-than-platonic affection for you, but his gaze has always been one of appreciation and awe when it comes to you, not the predatory one you've come to expect from men. and yet, his is the only male gaze that makes you feel slightly nervous, unused to being looked at with such reverence and tenderness by an attractive boy; in complete contrast, though, it also makes you lower your guard, pull down the bricks from the wall you've built around your heart, and allow yourself to actually feel something for matty, for once. something good, honest, promising.

matty looks up from his book as you sit down, smiling pleasantly. he opens his mouth as if to talk, and then closes it immediately, shaking his head slightly.

this intrigues you. “you okay, matty?”

“hmm? oh, yeah, i was just thinking,” his cheeks go a shade of pink you would buy in blush form if you could find it. “when you were first talking about the wedding… you said although, and then we got off-topic slightly. what, um, what were you going to say, if you don't mind me asking?”

“oh, right,” you wrack your brain, doing your best to not get distracted by how cute you find his perception. “i think i was going to say something about how, as good as it all was, there's nothing like a family wedding to remind you of how single you are.”

his jaw falls open. “you… you don't have a boyfriend? wait, sorry,” he blinks. “or a partner?”

you shake your head, biting the inside of your lip to stop yourself smiling. “no boyfriend, no. and thus, constantly advised by a never-ending flock of aunts that i should get one so i could get married.”

“christ,” matty winces. “yeah, my cousin's getting married in a couple of months - not looking forward to everyone asking me when i'm going to meet a nice girl and settle down, as if i can answer.”

no girlfriend. how interesting. “you're single? really?”

he rolls his eyes, still smiling at you. “be serious. course i am.”

“i am being serious! that surprises me,” you lean on one elbow, tilting your head to look at him. “you're lovely, matty.”

matty’s eyes widen, and he blinks adorably a few times before he smiles shyly again. “thank you. i think the same about you.”

“you do?”

he simply nods, total sincerity in those pretty eyes.

you feel your cheeks warm, but you make no effort to hide it. “thank you.”

matty shrugs. “just telling the truth, darling,” he looks panicked when he realises what he's said. “sorry for calling you that, twice, it just-”

“i like it, matty, it's alright,” you say reassuringly. “and i like-”

“oh, thank god you're both here,” marianne bursts into the room, carrying her laptop; you frown petulantly at her for ruining your moment, but shuffle your chair round closer to matty's so she can sit at the table too. “something weird’s happening.”

matty squints. “what d'you mean by weird?”

marianne pushes her laptop towards you both. “there's overlap in your planned reviews - the band you're going to see at the end of next week, matthew, have just been announced as the opener for the next Big Gig. i need to know how we want to go about this.”

“oh,” he looks at you. “i don't mind if you want to just review them as part of yours.”

you're shaking your head vehemently before he even finishes talking. “no, that's not fair,” you tap your lips with your index finger the way you always do when you concentrate, trying to ignore the glow within your body when you see matty looking at them from the corner of your eye; inspiration strikes, and you turn to marianne. “matty could come with me, couldn't he? if he reviews their headline gig, and then he does a follow-up review of their opening set in the Big Gig feature - we could just do a joint byline, work together on it.”

both of them turn to look at you in slight shock. marianne is the first to speak, her words trickling out slowly as she processes the fact you've just agreed to let someone else work on a Big Gig for the first time. “you're… happy with that?”

“if matty is, yeah,” you turn to him, smiling. “sound alright?”

he beams. “more than. thank you.”

“of course,” you turn back to the boss. “there you go. sorted.”

she sighs, relieved. “thank goodness for that. alright,” she stands, picking up her laptop and heading back to the main office. “i'll coordinate press passes. thanks for making that simple - you're both stars.”

“anytime!” you call after her, before turning back to matty. “you're sure you're happy to do this? i realise i've just given you more work to do, but…”

he laughs, a beautiful sound. “nah, i don't mind. also,” he shuffles in his seat, bashful again. “i actually have a spare ticket for the first show, if you'd like it - bought it before i saw it was on the review roster. doesn't seem fair that i get to go to two gigs while you only get one, i think. i mean, no pressure, obviously, but the offer's there.”

god, he’s so fucking cute. how could you ever say no to him? “i'd like that a lot, matty, thank you,” you beam at him. “i think us working together is going to be a lot of fun.”

matty beams back just as enthusiastically. “i think so too.”

#mads muses #mads does writing #office nerd au #matty healy fanfiction #matty healy fanfic #matty healy fic #matty healy fluff #matty healy x reader #matty x reader

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winchesterwild78 · 25 days ago

Text

Unspoken Words pt 1

Master List

Characters: Jensen Ackles x Reader, Reader’s daughter, other characters

Warnings: Nothing too bad, mention of single parent struggles, child with special needs.

A/N: Another collab story with @cheekygirl2309. This one is about a single mother with a nonverbal autistic daughter who loves Supernatural. The reader is going to a Supernatural Convention with her daughter and things unfold from there. The daughter character is near and dear to my heart. I have someone very close to me who is nonverbal, but he’s such an amazing kid.

*I know how convention photo ops work, again this is a work of fiction. I have however been in the photo op room where they accommodate a child and turn the music off and ask everyone to be as quiet as possible.

This is a work of fiction and does not depict real life. Jensen is single in this story.

All work is my own and @cheekygirl2309, don’t take it or use it as your own. Reblogs and likes are appreciated.

Minors DNI 18+

My daughter Lily is such a beautiful soul. At 7 years old she’s smart, artistic, and is obsessed with the show Supernatural. I had watched the show long before she was born, and now we watch it together as a way to bond.

Lily’s father left me when I found out I was pregnant, so it had just been Lily and I since she was born. My best friend Sarah was like an Aunt to her, and was always there to help me.

Especially after Lily was diagnosed with autism at the age of 2. She is nonverbal, and at times it can be very hard and frustrating. Navigating being a single parent is hard enough, but being a single parent to a nonverbal autistic child is really hard. Sarah is my constant support.

I have an amazing job working at a local attorney’s office in downtown Austin. Everyone there loves Lily and the attorney’s are incredibly kind when it comes to me needing time off to take her to therapy or other appointments.

“Hey, Y/N, did you hear there’s a Supernatural convention in town next month, and Radio Company is playing 2 concerts the Monday and Tuesday after.” Sarah was always trying to get me to a convention or a Radio Company concert, especially in Austin.

“I know. I saw. I wish I could take Lily to the convention. I think she’d love it. She might be able to handle the convention, but I’m definitely not taking her to the concert. She would be overstimulated.”

“What if I buy tickets to the concert and you and I go out?” I smiled, “I wish I could, but who would watch Lily?” Sarah nodded.

Later that afternoon I sat at my desk thinking about the possibilities, but quickly dismissed them. I knew what Lily could handle, and I knew it wasn’t a concert.

The rest of the week was a blur. I reached out to my parents to see if it was even a possibility for them to watch Lily so I could go to the concert, but they were headed on a trip to see my Aunt Mary that week. Apparently it was a big birthday for her, so they wanted to go visit.

I pushed the concert and convention out of my mind. No sense in keeping my hopes up.

Two weeks before the convention my boss, Mr. Jones called me in his office. I noticed his brother, the other attorney was in there too. I was nervous. “Y/N, take a seat, please. How have you been, how’s Lily?”

“We’re good. She is doing well in her therapy. We are going to try an adaptive device to help her communicate. Her therapist is filling out the paperwork so insurance will cover it and the program. She uses one at speech, and does well with it.”

“Wow, that’s awesome. I really hope it helps her communicate easier.” I nodded.

“So Y/N, the reason I called you in here today is we wanted to thank you for being such an amazing employee. You are selfless and give so much of yourself to the company, to your co-workers and of course Lily. When do you do anything for yourself?”

I looked down at my hands and fidgeted, “I don’t. Not really.” “That’s exactly what we thought, so we got together and wanted to give you this.”

He handed me an envelope. “Can I open it now?” He nodded and smiled.

I took a deep breath and opened the envelope and unfolded the papers inside. I softly gasped as I read them. Tears filled my eyes and spilled out, “Are you serious?” “Yes, and don’t worry about Lily the night of the concert, Annie is going to keep her at our house.”

“Oh my god, this is a dream come true. Lily is going to be so excited to go to the convention. Thank you both so much! Can I hug you?” They laughed and nodded. I wrapped my arms around them both. I couldn’t believe this.

I went back to my desk to call Sarah. “Girl, guess what?! My bosses just gifted me tickets to the convention, complete with photo ops, and tickets to both nights of the concert. Please tell me you’re going to go with me to both. I have three tickets to the convention and two to the concerts. Annie, Mr. Jones’ wife is going to keep Lily. Lily loves her and Annie is so good with her. She’s a special education teacher and is amazing at her job.”

“Of course I’ll go with you. That’s awesome, you totally deserve it. I can’t wait for you to tell Lily.” “Me either.”

Later that night after Lily and I got home from speech therapy I showed her the tickets, “Look Lily, we’re going to meet Dean.” She smiled and clapped. Anytime she got excited she would clap or flap her hands. Even though she couldn’t speak, she communicated in other ways.

Later that night Lily walked over to me with the TV remote in hand. I knew she wanted to watch Supernatural, but it was late and I was tired. “No, Lily. It’s bedtime. No Dean right now.”

She pushed the remote at me again and huffed. “Lily, no. Now go brush your teeth, it’s time for bed.” Again, she pushed the remote at me and huffed louder. “Lily Ann, I said no!” She threw herself on the floor and wailed and screamed.

I just walked into the kitchen. I knew she was doing it to get her way. She wasn’t hurt or being hurt, she was mad. So I let her feel her feelings by herself.

I grabbed a glass of water and drank it. Then I heard her walk into the kitchen. “Are you okay, now? I promise we will watch tomorrow.” She took my hand in hers. I hugged her and she went to bed.

The day of the convention finally arrived. Lily was a little overstimulated when we arrived, so I ran in to get our badges while her and Sarah waited in the car. The atmosphere was electric and I began to get very excited.

I went back out to the car to see if Lily was ready. “You ready baby girl? I’ve got our tickets.” She wiggled in her seatbelt, so I let her out.

I grabbed her bag and headphones just in case. We walked in and her eyes went wide. I saw something in her shift.

Lily seemed more present, more aware of the surroundings. I was in awe.

I grabbed a schedule and saw Jensen’s photo ops were later. So I figured I’d take Lily to the merchandise room and buy her a few things.

We were walking around looking at everything they had. Lily saw shirts and other items with Jensen on them and immediately wanted them.

Then I heard a laugh that instantly pulled my head in the other direction. Standing at the Radio Company table was Jensen.

My heart beat wildly. Lily didn’t hear or see him at first, but then he started talking and she saw him.

Her eyes went wide and before I could stop her she ran towards him, arms wide and hugged his leg.

“ Oh, who’s this?” He said as I walked up. Clif was instantly by his side. I was so scared we were about to be kicked out.

“I am so sorry. She saw you and got away before I could grab her. Lily, let go. Come on baby.” She held tighter. Jensen smiled at me and bent down, “Hello Lily. It’s nice to meet you.” She held tighter.

“I’m so sorry. She doesn’t speak. She’s nonverbal but loves Dean. We watch the show together as a way to bond. Lily, please let go. He has to leave. We have to leave.”

She shook her head no. I took a deep breath trying to hold myself together. Jensen placed a hand on my shoulder, “Hey, breathe. It’s okay. She’s okay.”

“Dean!” Sarah and I stood shocked. Lily hadn’t spoken in years, and even then was a babble.

Jensen looked at me and I at him. Tears pricked my eyes. “Dean, no go.”

The tears fell fast and heavy as I hit the floor.

Sarah gasped and looked at Jensen, “She hasn’t spoken in years.” Jensen’s eyes filled with tears and he got down beside her “Hey sweetheart.” She looked up at him and smiled.

I was in awe of him and her. She hardly looked at anyone, let alone a stranger.

He reached his hand out to me and grabbed mine, “She’s okay. Are you okay?” I nodded, “I just can’t believe she talked. I’ve been alone in this, except for Sarah. Her father left and I fight everyday to make sure she’s happy and has the things she needs in life. Her not talking scares me, so this is huge.”

He leaned over and wiped the tears away. His handlers told him he had to go to photo ops. Jensen raised a finger and told them one minute.

I looked at Lily who was still clinging to him, “Lily, it’s time for pictures. Jensen has to go. We will see him in a minute. Come on baby girl. He has to get ready for the pictures.” She looked at Jensen and then back at me, “go?” Jensen nodded, “Yes, but I’ll see you in a few minutes, okay?”

Lily nodded enthusiastically. Jensen stood and helped Lily and then myself up.

When his hand touched mine I felt electricity through my body. I gasped softly. He smirked and winked.

He walked away with his handlers and Clif, before they disappeared behind the curtains Jensen turned and looked at us again. My heart was in my throat.

“Y/N, are you okay?” I heard Sarah ask. “Um, yeah. What was that? She talked, Sarah. She talked to Jensen.” She touched my shoulder, “Yeah. That was amazing. Come on, let’s get in line for the photo ops, they’ve called for gold tickets to line up.”

I nodded and told Lily we were going to get our pictures taken with Jensen.

We stood in line and as we got closer to the door I could hear the music playing and excitement in the room. I worried about Lily so I handed her the headphones.

She put them on and I could tell she was getting nervous. I handed the lady our ticket to scan and then we saw Jensen. Lily tried to bolt to him again, but I held her. She started to get upset and my heart sank.

“Want me to take her out of here?” Sarah asked. “No, I don’t want her to miss this. She should be okay.”

“Lily, honey, take a breath. See, Jensen is right there. We’re going to get a picture.”

It was almost our turn and we were at the front of the line. Jensen saw us standing in line and smiled, but then turned his focus to the people getting their picture taken. They wanted an elaborate pose, props and all, which meant a bit more time. Lily was at her limit.

Before they could usher us up she melted down. When it was our turn Jensen looked at me and smiled, “I’m sorry, we can’t do this right now. She needs a minute. Is there any way we can come back?” I asked the woman scanning the tickets.

“Let me see what we can do.” She said and I smiled. She walked over to Jensen and the photographer. The decision was to clear the room and turn off the music.

There were some grumbles from other fans, I understood completely, but I was amazed by their generosity.

Jensen walked over to me and then bent down to Lily. “Hey, Lily. Want to get a picture taken with me?” She looked up and nodded.

He scooped her up, wiped her tears and grabbed my hand. Chris the photographer was so sweet. He offered a photo of just Lily and Jensen, and then all of us. “But I only have a ticket for one.” He touched my arm, “Let me worry about that.” He smiled and I nodded.

Lily had her arms around Jensen’s neck and smiled bigger than I’d ever seen her smile. My heart was so full.

She giggled, and kept saying “Dean” over and over again.

“Sweetie, his name is Jensen. Remember?” I said looking at her.

I walked over to get in the picture and Jensen put his arm around me. I looked up at him and looked in his eyes, oh how beautiful his eyes were. I lost time for a bit. Everything around me melted away.

“Mama.” I broke eye contact and gasped. “She’s never called me mama before.” Jensen smiled, “That’s amazing, sweetheart.”

“Mama, Jensen.” Sarah was just as shocked. “My baby is talking.” I stood and cried. Jensen held me tight.

“Mama, Jensen go home.” I looked at her and then him. He chuckled. “No baby, Jensen can’t come home with us. He has to go to his house.”

It was like a switch flipped in her. She was talking. I couldn’t believe she was talking.

“Baby, we have to go. Jensen has other pictures to take. Come on sweetie.” She refused to let go of his neck and I was starting to panic. “Jensen, I’m so sorry. She’s never acted like this before. I know you have all those other people waiting.”

He took my hand, “Hey, it’s okay. I want her to be comfortable. Do you think she’d be okay sitting over there until I’m done?” He pointed to a table to the side, but in line with him. “We could try, but you really don’t have to. You don’t know her or me, and don’t owe us anything.”

That’s when he cupped my face and my breath hitched, “I don’t know you two, but I’d like to. Besides, my nephew means the world to me, and I know how hard it is for my brother and sister-in-law. It definitely takes a village.”

I nodded, swallowed hard, “Lily, come on. We’re going to sit right over there and wait for Jensen, okay?”

She turned and looked then climbed down and sat in the chair closest to Jensen. I chuckled, “I guess it’s okay. Thank you, Jensen.” Clif stood near us and they resumed pictures.

In between photos Jensen glanced our way and when he looked at me he smiled. I couldn’t believe everything that had happened. Lily had spoken, Jensen Ackles was being so sweet, and I was sure I was having a fever dream.

After photo ops Jensen was escorted out of the room, before leaving he took my hand and grabbed Lily, “Come on. Let’s go backstage.” I nodded and Sarah followed with our stuff in tow.

Once in the quiet solitude of backstage Jensen and I started talking. Lily curled up between us and fell asleep. I explained that when she got overstimulated for long periods of time it would drain her to the point where she needed sleep.

He looked down at her and smiled, “She’s an amazing kid, Y/N. You’re doing great.” “Thank you. That means so much to me.”

“So if you don’t mind me asking, tell me a little about yourself. I know you have an incredible kid, and you’re an amazing mother, but I’d like to know more.”

I bit my lip and talked. Told him about work, Lily, our lives, everything. He was completely focused on the conversation. He told me about his life, spent between here in Austin and Vancouver. He said he’d been busy with shooting schedules, but loved doing the conventions.

We talked about the upcoming concert, and he was excited I was going. “I’m not bringing Lily. She wouldn’t be able to handle it, but I’ll be there both nights with Sarah.” He looked over at her and smiled. “I’m glad you’re coming, sweetheart.”

There it was again, “sweetheart”. It made my heart flutter and my face flush red. “Well darlin’ I have to get to a meet and greet, y’all are welcome to stay back here as long as you need. I hope to see you later.”

I nodded, “Thank you, Jensen. You’ve been incredible with her. I really appreciate it.” He nodded and turned to leave, stopping as he got to the door, “Here’s my number, text me so I have your number. I’d like to make sure Lily is okay for the rest of the convention.”

I took the paper, sent him a text and he smiled, “Got it. Thank you.” He winked and went out the door, leaving me and Sarah in silence. “Girl, he’s got it bad for you.” I chuckled, “Yeah right, he’s just being sweet because of Lily.”

“He’s definitely being sweet to Lily, but he’s enamored with her mom too.” I rolled my eyes and laughed, but deep down I was feeling something.

My phone went off with a notification, I looked down and smiled. It was from Jensen.

Jensen: Hey sweetheart, I have the pictures we took. They are amazing. I’ll bring them to you soon.

Me: That’s great. I can’t wait, and Jensen, thank you again for being so sweet to my Lily girl.

Jensen: She’s a great kid, I’d like to get to know her and her mom better. That is if you’re open to that.

I looked at my phone and looked up at Sarah. I showed her the message, “What do I say?” “Maybe you want to get to know him better too.” She wiggled her eyebrows at me. “Shut up you perv.” We both laughed.

Me: She’d like that, and so would I.

Jensen: Good. Talk to you soon sweetheart.

Me: I can’t wait.

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tinydefector · 7 months ago

Note

Was wondering if you could do some earth spark Megatron x reader, there isn't alot of them and I'd love to see what you could come up with.

The Malto's Neighbour

Megatron x human

Warning: none.

Wordcount: 1.6k

Megatron masterlist

Really hope you guys like this, and woo first piece for earthspark since I've started watching the series. Hope you guys enjoy the chaos which is to come.

________________________

The Malto's property is a busy one, Twitch yelling at the others as they practise. "Keep up slow poke Twitch's madly zips between the hay bales strewn across the yard, chassis buzzing with energy. "Gotta be faster than that, Jawbreaker!" She shouted gleefully, panels flared and fans roaring.

Hashtag revved her engine competitively, darting around the yard in tight circles as she sought an opening to knock Thrust off his pedes laughter echoing from all of them. Nearby, Nightshade sculpted away as they planned out new projects.

Dot smiles as she watches her kids run around the yard, and back and forth from the barn. "Play nice you lot!" She calls out while finishing her coffee. The sound of propellers alerts her to Megatron's arrival. She looks out the other side of the widow with a smile as Megatron touches down. "Megs wasn't expecting to see you today" she calls out while walking out to meet him.

His optics scans the surrounding farmland, ensuring all remains secure within guarded borders, before his powerful lip components peel back in a fierce yet weary grin. "And risk missing the sparklings?" he retorts, striding over rust coloured soil towards the porch Dorothy stood on.

His field pulses warmth upon seeing his friend, soaking in her calming company. “It is good to see you Dorothy” A gruff hum rumbles his massive frame, relaxing further.

"so optimus, has you playing babysitter today?" She asked with a smirk, trying to ruffle his plating. A scoffing snort bellows from Megatron's vents at the insinuation of playing nursemaid.

Twitch's laughter makes Megatron look up to watch as she flies around with Mo before their eyes and optics land on the ex-warlord. "Hi Mr Megatron!" A collection of voices call out, Dot laughs at her kids. "Believe it or not they seem to enjoy having you around, think they like you better than OP '' she states smugly. A rare soft chuckle rumbles from Megatron's frame. "Well if the Prime cannot appease youthful tastes, it seems his title means less than once assumed," he replies loftily, it earns him a small slap to his plating from Dorothy.

Beside him, her own amusement rings sweet as Terran continues with their Shenanigans. Megatron's optics glint fondly. He didn't know how to voice his appreciation to the soldier turned ranger, she trusted him so willingly with her family and he would forever be thankful for that.

Dot walks towards her work vehicle. "You gonna be alright dealing with all of them by yourself?. Alex shouldn't be far away" she replies while getting into the driver's seat and ready to head off to work.

"Twitch Not fair only you and Nightshade can fly!" Hashtag calls out.

"Too bad bozo should have picked a better alt mode instead of a Ghost Van '' Twitch calls back as she takes off with their basketball before throwing in through the hoop.

This handful of newsparks posed no threat whatsoever, and he'd make sure they were protected while she was away.

"Worry not, I shall keep them entertained and out of trouble until your return" he rumbles, His massive frame shifts casually aside as Dot's vehicle rumbles past, optics following until taillights fade into rural tree line. Massive peds crunch soil as Megatron straightens, surveying once more.

It's only once the kids mother has left do they go about doing their own things.

Nightshade and Hashtag with little projects together. “Can you give me a tutorial on renovating?” Nightshade ask Hashtag as the two work away

Jawbreaker finds himself sitting beside Megatron with Mo sitting in his lap. “But I never thought you had a grounded alt” Jawbreaker states while watching the ex Decepticon. “Much has changed since my time on cybertron and even while here on earth.” He starts. “I was once a miner, my Alt was that of a Mining Drill, it's only as of recently I've taken an alt mode of a flying type” he replies, a sad smile on his lips as he remembers. He's broken out of his memory when Twitch flies back in a panic.

"There is someone on the property!, they didn't see me but i didn't stick around to get seen" She states and it makes all the young ones tense up.

"You don't think it's GHOST again?"

"It could be the neighbour!" Robbie states trying to calm everyone.

"Show me," he rumbles curtly to Twitch, striding toward the perimeter of the woodlands. His engine rumbles a warning growl. "Remain here. Stay out of sight, Little bird stay in drone mode in case it is GHOST." The young terrans all retreat back into the barn watching. The wind whispers against his armour as he and Twitch move through the woods, Twitch stays close to Megatron's side hovering as they slowly scan the area.

A loud whistle leaves a human as they move throughout the woodlands. "Bluey!" They call out while looking through the woods. "Blue! Come on!" They call before their eyes catch movements, they huff to themself moving closer hoping to find their dog.

As they turn down another track they freeze when Scarlet optics linger on them, their body goes into fight or flight mode but instead of either they sand frozen to the spot hoping they hadn't been seen. Megatron freezes as well, optics narrowing to analyse the stranger before him. No weapon was drawn, but their presence alone was alarming. A low menacing growl rumbles leaves his intake, Twitch hovers over his shoulder plate quick to hide behind his back as she transformers, ember optics watching the human from behind Megatron as she clings to the large Mech.

"Explain your business here, human," he demands. "You trespass" Twitch's faint glow flickers beside him, awaiting the answer that could mean swift action, depending on what the human said would decide how quickly she would fly back to the barn.

They fall to the ground moving backwards quickly. "BLUE!!" They shout loudly. The sound of heavy footsteps crunching against branches, leaf litter and rocks follow before a large cybernetic Dog stands in front of the human growling at Megatron. Its ears are pinned back as it barks loudly at the large Mech, guarding their human.

Twitch's optics widen in shock. “No way you have a Robodog!” she squeals out in delight only for Megatron to make sure she stays behind him.

Megatron's optics narrow as he watches the Metal dog and vice versa. Bright blue optics watch his every move, the creature looked like a merge of cybertronian tech yet at the same time his scans said it was something different.

"Explain," he rumbles again, optics narrowing upon the trespassers. Loyalty to one's charge he respected, if nothing else. But his main concern was his charges and their safety. More footfall alerts Megatron to one of the children running towards them. Robbie pants as he catches up to Megatron, his eyes going wide when he sees his neighbour. “DON'T BLAST OUT NEIGHBOUR!" He yells loudly.

"You know them?" he asked Robbie who nodded. "Yea they leave across the woods, their another one of my Parents friend's!" He states only to flinch as the cyberdog sniffs him. its ears perk up and whines at the young man waiting for a pat. "Robbie?" The other human calls out in shock.

“Um Hey!, sorry about him” Robbie says sheepishly while patting the dog's face. "Um... when did you get a robot dog?" He asked his neighbour, they let out a groan as they continued laying on the ground. Crimson optics scan the pair, A rumbling purr vibrates his massive chassis, posture shifting from confrontational to watchful. "You seem acquainted. Explain yourselves further - why have these 'neighbours' not been introduced before now?" He asked Robbie.

The young man turns back to Megatron. "Because the terrans are hiding from GHOST, Megatron," He states, but the shock of reality finally kicks in after he says those words. "We are all gonna be in deep shit when mom gets home," he says in a panic. Twitch perks up. "Ohhhhh, Robbie said a bad word! I'm telling mom!!" She shouts while flying out from behind Megatron's shoulder.

"Troubles abound it seems," he finally replies, his tone modulated into something approaching conciliatory. "Explanations are due. But not here, it isn't safe out here." Crimson optics scan the forest shadows.

That's how they end up sitting in the Kitchen of the Malto's house with both Robbie and Mo, along with the Terrans watching them from windows and Megatron sitting on the ground beside the house watching. They slowly sip on their drink as the kids look at them with worry. "You're not going to tell anyone about the bots right?" Mo asked.

"What!, no, no! That would put Blue in more danger, I'm out here hiding him for the Government" they state. It makes all the terrans relax before questions fly about themself and their cyberdog.

Megatron scans Blue appraisingly where the cyber-hound lies on the Doorstep near his Pede. He had never seen anything like this creature. He had his run in with turbofoxs and other creatures like on cybertron, but this one almost reminded him of Ravage in how protective they were of their human.

A sigh vents softly from Megatron's frame, he reaches out slowly running a servos over the dog's back which makes the mutt huff, before it rolls over in delight, soft chafing noises leave them.

It's only when Alex returns that he realises something is up. "Kids... what's going on?" He asked his children. The older of the collect waves. "Um Hey Alex, you might wanna sit down" they call out to him. He nearly drops his shopping bags when he sees the Metallic Dog.

Enjoy the Art of Blue.

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portgasdwrld · 1 year ago

Note

Hello, Tomie! Are requests still open? I got the cutest fluff idea and I think you're the best writer for the job because you really write the characters so well.

Cold/stoic OP boys reacting to an S/O who MUST always stop to pet, feed, and photograph every cat on the street? Maybe Smoker, Zoro, and Law.

🍃Hey sweetheart!! Thank you for sending this ask! I love the idea so much and thanks for the support!! I hope you like it 🪽

🥝 Op men + cat lover reader

Featuring: Zoro, Law, Smoker

Warning: None, fluff, established relationship for Zoro & Law. GN! Reader

Zoro

Zoro stares at you as you stopped for the third time today to pet a black kitten this time. He doesn’t see the appeal & doesn’t understand why you love cats so much. He looks around making sure you two are still out of any enemy attack, before he approaches you. He gasps a little when he sees you open your bag to feed the animal with some treats specially made for them.

-Do you just walk around hoping to fall on a cat?

He asks in his usual stern voice. You look over your shoulder and laugh when the realization hits. You couldn’t help but soften, faced to those adorable animals. You would take them all on the ship with you if you could.

-I do be giving this impression, huh?

-Yeah,… you really seem to like them.

-They are so cute don’t you think??

You exclaim while picking up the cat in your hands and showing it to him. He furrows his eyebrows, before looking away uninterested.

-Nah, don’t get it.

-You’re always so grumpy, a bit like a cat.

-Are you comparing me to that thing??

-A thing?? It’s so cuteee!! Look! It even has a scar on its eye just like you! What are the odds!

Zoro’s cheeks slightly flush embarrassed by your comparison, while the cat and him stare at each other. He scoffs as your words ring in his head. He doesn’t see the ressemblance and doesn’t want to. A pirate like him looking like a kitten? You must be out of your mind.

-Let’s go, the others are waiting.

He says quicken up his pace as he walks away from you, still flustered. He hears your laugh echo again and soon after, your arms wrap around his as you look at him with big eyes.

-Do you think the cat is a fighter too?

He gives you a bit of a side eye wondering where you find those type of questions. He shrugs his shoulders as a smirk cover his face.

-He must be the strongest, if so.

Maybe he will consider making space for a cat in your shared cabin, maybe…

Law

Law sighs as he sees you once again bend down to pet a cat. He’s always a bit in a hurry as he’s a busy man, in his words. So he does find it inconvenient that you have this habit. The crew is walking not too far behind and he hopes to not waste any more time in this village after buying everything they needed.

-Are you done?

He asks softly, but it still comes off with an annoyed undertone and his stoic facial expression doesn’t help. You straighten your back as you give him a bit of his attitude back.

-Nah

You retort while putting your tongue out and hugging the cat in your arms.

-The cat has an ear missing..They need a doctor!

Laws mouth stays open for a little a bit speechless. He cocks an eyebrow as he looks at you.

-It’s a stray cat, they are made strong.

-Pfff, not very doctor of you, Trafalgar.

You reply while scrunching a little your nose unsatisfied with his answer. Law rubs the bridge of his nose, before getting a better look of the cat.

-Im a doctor for humans …. The ears seems like an old scar that have already been healed, so don’t worry.

He adds as he notices your uneasy expression. You smile and ruffle with the tip of your finger the fur on top of the cat’s head, happy with the news. You thank him, before letting the cat go.

-Stay safe~

You say to the cat with caring eye as you watch it walk away. Law watches with a fond smile. You take his hand and with the crew, you make your way back home.

Smoker

He exhales a cloud of smoke as he cocks an eyebrow to you petting a cat that crossed by you two.

-Isn’t it so cute!!

You exclaim with an excited expression as you focus on the small creature in front of you. You reach for your bag where you find your camera and click couple of pictures.

-What are you doing? We are wasting time.

-Im taking pictures for souvenirs!

-Of cats ?

He retorts, lowkey judging you. He thinks the behaviour is a little childish, especially when you two needs to be attentive at all time for any pirates that can cause trouble. But here you are, taking pictures of cats and petting them.

-Yeah, why not? Want me to take some of you?

You say with a teasing smirk and you stare at him this time. The man blushes a little flustered and shakes his head.

- This isn’t very professional.

-Ohh, relaaax. If some idiots want to cause trouble we don’t need to worry if you are here right ?

-U-uh yeah…

-All cool then~

You conclude with a cocky smile, satisfied as you pet another cat under the man’s confused eyes.

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luffyvace · 1 year ago

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Hey there brook! I hope u having a nice day! Can I ask for a luffy x heroic fem reader headcanon? by heroic I mean that she completely dedicated her life to help and save ppl and that her purpose in life, she's strong and seems cold but when u get to know her she has empathy more than anyone else, I feel like this is the perfect character that luffy would fall in love with, pure kindness hiding behind a tough facade, she doesn't even like being called a hero, yet she is willing to do anything for those in need, slaves, poor villages, she goes against anything unjust without any fear, cause thats her purpose in life (sorry if that was too long 💀)

Hi anon <33 (it makes me so happy that someone finally addressed me as that💗)

today was a very chill day 😊 thank you! How’s yours?

Reader sounds so genuine with such a good background for a op character!!

(Don’t worry it’s not too long—I love to read:3)

Ngl luffy subconsciously sees a little bit of himself in you!!

like your hearts are so similar—gold!

of course he doesn’t directly think that way- but he feels the connection!

which is through helping!

you two never turn your backs on those who have never wronged you

its not even about if they’re on your side or not, as long as they haven’t wrong you? and they need help?

the both of you are on it 🤜🤛👍

you wanting to save others becomes admirable to more than just him, to all of the straw hats—chopper and usopp especially!

I’m gonna go ahead and say it here and now you remind both Jinbe and luffy of whitebeard and fishman island type thing

LIKE THAT’S HOW IT IS!!

Y/n is just her tbh 🤷‍♀️

and if the ops don’t like that? 🤨

🤜💥

how you like that? >:)

your strength may or may not be hereditary but either way if you don’t continue training or working out your gonna loose that strength eventually

which shows just how hard you train everyday!!

bro works harder than zoro 🗿

and we all know he don’t sleep on workin out

so y/n is a gorilla the og

its no wonder you be cookin the ops like breakfast👩‍🍳👍

this is literally turning into a rant about me being (name)’s biggest fan ok let’s move on

luffy saw you cold exterior and was like

😍😍😘🥰😘💍💋💋💋

LOLOLOL no but fr he looked straight past that

he always does- he ignored law’s and zoro’s why wouldn’t he with you-

and once he sees your true kindness???

Locked in like a booty hole 🔗

(ANYWAY I HAD TO🧍‍♀️)

yeah he pretty much busts right through that

he pretty much instantly demands you already are is nakama after that

Your empathy is what really swoops him off his feet tho

like luffy has a good sense of empathy so much so he can hear the voice of all things

and you probably can too! It’s highly likely!

(y/n could have her own anime at this point 🤷‍♀️😚)

But seriously the way he can just feel the way you long for others when they’re in pain just gets him right at the heartstrings you know?! 🥺❤️‍🩹

you comfort them so assuredly and keep your promise to win every time !!

luffy would admire himself more than he would know if he realized how alike the two of you are

tbh you probably admire luffy!!

like it’s a mutual thing, where you pretty much don’t see your own coolness you only see the other’s

so you admire each other unaware that your the same 😂💗

he absolutely adores and admires that empathetic part of you thoo!

he loves how your kind and tough

he wholeheartedly believes the strong should protect the weak, cuz that’s what a man does.

especially with nakama.

so he definitely understands your need to protect those who can’t do it for themselves

there are many times he can recall where he had to rely on others

so he loves that your the one who does that for people

and you don’t do it for the money or fame!

you don’t even view yourself as the hero and savior that bystanders see you as!

that’s so cool to him!

you background/past might’ve caused it! Like maybe you had no superhero! So you decided to become one!

he kinda looks up to you in a way 🤩

as someone who has also helped slaves and the poor he completely understands where you come from in your kindness

and it’s even cooler that you charge head on into battle for others without a second thought

that’s just how tough you are ᕦ(ò_óˇ)ᕤ

not an ounce of fear in your eyes as you walk up to someone 20x the size of you to simply get back the bread they stole from a poor little child

LIKE HOW COOL IS THAT?! 💥💥

your a super hero!! Dundun duh-duuuuuun!!

🦸‍♀️‼️🤩

you have a goal just like him!! He wants to be the king of pirates and you wanna help others!

With the type of pirate he is?, those things go hand in hand 🤝

”STRAW HAT LUFFY AND PIRATE HERO (NAME) IS HERE!! RUN AWAY!!”

says the pirates who know they’ve done wrong doing!! 😎

also excuse (name)’s lame pirate alias i couldn’t think of one 😊💖

(Name) is so cool 😎 I admire her 💓

hope you enjoyed your hcs anon!! *super heroes away🦸‍♀️🚀*

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sanjisblackasswife · 2 years ago

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So.... Hello! I'm not Very good at english since it's not my language but here we Go. I wanna to say i really love your art (from fanarts to your write style) and i Hope you have a good day today. Anyway i don't know If your ask are ope but How the Monsters trio Will react with they being your First in everthing! (Like First Kiss, First love, First s*x, etc) you can do nsfw-ish If you wanted

aww thank u!:) I am not going to go into grave detail because I am already doing a “First time” series with them but i like this request💓imma do it moreso where you’re THEIRS if thats alright

Being the Monster Trio’s First (NSFW-ish)

Black Fem Reader in Mind

CW: Mentions of sex

I am half sleep and typing this all in one go so mb for my spelling errors im just making up for lost time not posting consistently because school and coms☹️

Being Luffy’s First:

Crush: Being his crush is no different from being his best friend, he isn’t a very romantic guy if he likes you he will just tell you, “Y/N I think about you a lot, and I also think you may have a Lust DF power because when I think of you i get hard.” Bless him he is very blunt. BUT he does mean what he says so..be nice?

Kiss: Probably the most anticlimactic thing ever. Luffy already licks your face, hugs, and touches you a lot so when he starts running at you after a fight to see if you’re okay BAM. His lips smack into yours like a bowling ball and honestly. It’s cute. Completely uncoordinated, damn near sucked your bottom lip off, but…there was just something so addictive and attractive to his kiss that made you want more

Love: Very odd in his case. He just thought he liked you a lot. The signs were evident though, when you tell him he doesn’t deny it persay he moreso brushes it off because being in love is so new to him. However being his first love is something you can’t forget. He reminds you everyday why you’re important. Why he loves you. And why he fell in love with you.

Sexual Encounter: It was fun! You both were inexperienced. He didn’t know what hole to enter, you were shocked by how long he can stretch his dick. You both even spent the night laughing more than actually having sex, but once it came down to business it was a learning experience for you both. He was so attentive to make sure you were okay you felt yourself crying a little afterwards at how gentle he was with you.

Being Zoro’s First:

crush: He’s actually more of an asshole to you Not even on purpose he just doesn’t want to admit his feelings towards you. You’re beautiful, sweet, and charming and dammit he hates that he has feelings and how you always mess them up when you’re around him! He feels so powerless so please be gentle with him…or put him on blast. It maybe attractive to the mf.

Kiss: Awkward, awkward, awkward. He isn’t the rizzmaster okay. Yes he is pretty and he knows it but he is crap to flirting. absolutely crap. He was so hot in the face when you did the first move and kissed him he was a stuttering mess and pulled you back in for another kiss to prevent you from laughing at him. His kisses wasn’t BAD but …just practice with him. Yeah it was awkward but seeing your face so close and personal, smelling your scent. He couldn’t get enough.

Love: DENIAL IS A RIVER IN EGYPT Absolutely ridiculous how in denial he was. Everytime someone even said the word love he’d get so mad because that word applied to you in so many ways. He fell for you and he couldn’t do anything about it. You were the one opponent he could not beat and honestly, he didn’t want to. He fell for you and he fell so hard that it actually makes him nervous to be around you. He doesn’t know whether he loves you or hates you now for being so irresistible to him. Eventually he comes to terms with it and once it does and you feel the same way. Good luck getting rid of him.

Sexual Encounter: You taught him everything. He didn’t know his way from the clit to your ass. It took a lot of trial and error, sex wasn’t really NEW to him. He has seen porn but it’s completely different from films and pictures so sometimes he would back down when making out got too far, eventually he needed that release one late night while cuddling you and even though he could have went to the bathroom you stopped him and …helped him out. Let’s just say Zoro is so grateful he didn’t pussy out this go round!

Being Sanji’s First:

Crush: Sanji is an interesting guy because any woman that knows Sanji knows he is a mixture of a flirt and just having amazing manners for women. You however was just above the usual women he served to. Being his crush was an experience because you seen a side to Sanji most women don’t get to see. You seen him stand up straighter, sly comments that made your heart melt, and even kept his cool…too cool in fact. He really was Mr. Prince for you.

Kiss: The first kiss he planned it out. He knew his feelings about you and that you felt the same so he needed to plan it just right not just for him, but for you as well. The kiss was so soft and delicate you almost didn’t feel it. And that was because he shy’ed away for a moment, scared his sudden bold move would have you smack him, Luckily, he didn’t have to worry feeling your hands cup his cheek to kiss him back. He still touches his lips when he thinks about that time you kissed him.

Love: I mean man…you really are a blessed woman because out of all of the others he has seen and been with he chose you and only you. it’s insane really. He tries in his entire will to not mess this opportunity to find true love up. You being his first love he watches his mouth and actions around you more, He tries his hardest not to ruin the view you have of him and it shows. If you can just reassure him you love him for him and not who he thinks he needs to be. Sanji needs the confirmation that you love him almost as much as he loves you.

Sexual Encounter: LORD—- okay. okay. Just like Zoro trial and error HOWEVER. Much longer and worse. He really is still a pervert no matter how much in love he is with you so you have to take it very slow. Once you both are okay to be naked in front of each other he is back to being a shy boy so you constantly kiss and praise him, telling him how good he is for you, how well he is doing for his first time. You were so kind and patient with him, it never fails to leave a chill down his spine (in a good way) when he remembers that night of love making with you, and now that he has more experience he does nothing but reciprocate the same feelings back to you in bed.

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shirefantasies · 11 months ago

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Hello again! I have another request that came to me as I was submitting a different one. How do you think Thorin's or the LOTR companies would react to reader having a buzzcut. Especially for dwarves who pride themselves in long intricately done hair and braids. Would they think something bad must've happened to the reader for them to have short hair. Cue misunderstandings and fluff, with maybe hair petting(buzzcuts are super soft!) Hope this sounds interesting enough to do, have a good day again! :)

(I literally lied on my last post THIS is my last pre-op post by the 45 minutes left before my operation appointment)

Heck yeah friend I love this! I don’t quite have a buzzcut but my hair’s far shorter than the average lady’s & definitely so for a dwarf, so I wonder about this too 😁 hope you enjoy 🥰 Warnings: a little violence in one reaction, injury mention in another

Thorin’s Company When You Have a Buzzcut

Balin

“You’re causing quite a stir with everyone, you know that?” Giving a chuckle at Balin’s cheeky look, you lean forward with your chin upon your hand. “And why is that?” “At risk of offense,” the older dwarf answered, “they all want to know what happened to your hair.” “Yourself included,” you shot back with a grin, “or else you’d not be asking.” Taken aback, Balin stutters a bit. “Ah, well, I confess I am a bit curious, after all. Reminds me of when my brother first took all his off. What a stir over something so silly. Do what you like, I was just wondering if Dwalin was trying to get you all painted up too.” “Not yet,” your smile softens and you give him a wink, “but if he does you’ll be the first to know. Ahead of all the sensation.”

Dwalin

You start the conversation on this one, seeing that Dwalin is the other company member with little to no hair upon his head and considering it a bonding opportunity. “Well, I’ve got a reason,” he shoots back to your comment of similarity, arms crossed but expression teasing, “what’s yours? You need some tattoos up there at least.” “No thank you,” you tell him, “if I’m adding any tattoos it won’t be on top of my head! Feel how soft it is up here.” Dwalin looks at you, prompting you to take his hand and put it on top of your head, his eyebrows raising at the sensation. And perhaps because touching one’s hair is a much closer and more intimate thing for him than perhaps you realize. You are quite forward, aren’t you?

Thorin

Pays little mind to how you wear your hair…or lack thereof. In fact, by your appearance he gauges you to be a warrior of some kind, thus taking command of your actions in a fight and seeking proof of your prowess. Before your first encounter with a threat the king’s questions are more along the lines of “What is your weapon of choice?” and “From where in these lands do you hail?” The day the company fights a pack of orcs, you manage to take down more than Thorin expected and at one point, you even jump in front of Dori to parry before a potentially deadly strike takes him off guard. Rising from the struggle of battle, black blood splattered across your layers and even your shaven head, you feel a hand upon your shoulder. Thorin. "It can be hard for us to look beyond our own kin," he tells you, "but you have well proven yourself today. We may not always understand each other, but there is a beauty in that, too, I see."

Oin

Wincing despite your gratitude, you shifted in your seated position while Oin packed the poultice into the wound your side had suffered. "Don't worry, you'll go numb in a bit. If it stings, that is quite alright, that simply means you are getting clean again." Thanking him through heavy breaths, you watched as the dwarf reached a hand up toward your head, running a hand over the soft, shorn little bit of cover it had. "And this one's healing quite nicely, quite nicely indeed. Why, I cannot even see the scar!" The sting in your bloody side faded down a bit as you tilted your head to fix Oin right in the eyes. "What scar?" "Did they not have to sew up your head at some point? Figured that's why they shaved you down," he answered, finally removing his hand from your head. You giggled at that, regretted stretching yourself at a new, though much smaller, arc of pain. "No, my dear Oin, I am afraid the only thing my head has suffered is my typical madness," you teased, waving your hands mystically and grinning at the way the healer laughed.

Gloin

"Pardon me, my dear," your name rolled smoothly off Gloin's tongue as he shuffled forth, hands folded in front of him in the picture of innocence. Oh, this was going to be good. "Yes?" You indulged him, swiveling to give your full attention. The auburn-haired dwarf pointed to his head, his own flowing locks. "What happened t'yer hair?" Perhaps sheepishly, his voice suddenly quickened. Feeling your eyebrows involuntarily raise, you tilted your head- this was not exactly what you’d expected, after all. “I cut it,” you shrugged, “got tired of how it was before. Simply wanted a new beginning, you could say.” Gloin’s eyes never left yours. “So no accident?” “No.” “Ha!” The dwarf bellowed, waggling a hand at his brother and a small scattering of company members a ways back. “I was right! By choice! Now pay up and remember I told ya it was worth the risk!” Shaking your head, you playfully smack him on the shoulder. “I’d better get a cut from this, you ol’ scallywag!”

Bifur

Catching Bifur signing, you turn his way, seeing the motions he performs by his head. “Did you cut your hair yourself?” You realize he is asking. “No,” you sign back, “another did it for me.” “You must trust them a great deal.” Simple enough words signed and yet there is something in the way his eyes shine, the fond inquisition in his smile, that brings a little shock of joy to you. Barring royal dressings, it was far more common for one to do their own hair or entrust it to a loved one, and you could see intimacy in the act. It almost brought a pang of regret that it was just some small-town hairdresser that sheared it at your asking and payment. Your hands freeze for a moment as your eyes search Bifur before you finally sign a response. “I suppose. Perhaps if you ever want to do something different with your hair, I could help you, too.”

Bofur

A mix between caring and teasing, he offers you cover! “Your head looks cold. Need to borrow my hat?” Thinks he’s so funny he laughs at his own joke whether you roll your eyes or joke back. “But really, any particular reason you took it all off?” "It was uncomfortable having it long," you admit, "I was tired of it all being in my face." The way everyone spoke of dwarven culture, you half expect disapproval, but this is Bofur you speak of. Instead he nods acceptingly, smiling in that way that always has you feeling seen and reassured. "I understand that." "You do?" "Sure I do! Why do you think I keep mine braided out to the sides like this?" At that, you smile back. "Besides," he continues, "helps me see all the best sights. The trees, the flowers, that smile of yours..."

Bombur

“Singe all your hair off?” Bombur nods sagely despite the fact that he couldn’t be more wrong. “I’ve been there. Burned my beard leaning too far over the stove.” You can’t even correct him right away because you’re too busy laughing. Finally, though, you explain to him that your hair was simply so unhealthy it needed to start over. “Ah, I see, I see! Trying to take better care of it, then?” At that, you nod. He looks at you with new interest, eyes shining eagerly. “So what would you like to do with it next? I’ve got some things you might like to put in it, and I think it would look mighty nice if you wanted to try…”

Dori

"Sometimes I wish I could do that, too," Dori remarks one day, rolling blue eyes illuminated beneath the sun that peeked between the branches. Shifting carefully so as to not disturb your pony, you turned back to face him. "Do what?" "Cut all my hair off just to save some time in the morning!" He replied with a wave of a hand in your general direction. Chuckling, you gave a conceding nod. "I suppose you would gain back an hour, wouldn't you?" At that, it was Dori's turn to laugh. "But then again," you continued, "then you couldn't wear as many of those nice clips and cases. That is one thing I miss about having it all." Puffing up like a proud little bird, Dori smiled. "They are quite nice, aren't they? You know, if you ever get so bored you're tempted to let it all come back, I could make you some of your own."

Nori

Abrasive as it was, Nori's question found you in a way that raised such amusement you forgot to be upset with him entirely, instead simply falling back with a bark of laughter before you answered. "Looks like you're tryin' to hide your identity. You on the run from someone?" He continued musing, in fact, as you laughed. "Law somewhere? A scorned lover? Simply run off with something too valuable not to do that?" Finally, your voice returned. "All this because I've sheared my head down?" You burst out incredulously. "Ever consider," you gasped in mock-scandal, "I like it like this?" "Sure, but that's not exciting," Nori shot back with a smirk, "I like a good story." "Well," you crossed your arms, "perhaps I still have some of those, too."

Ori

Shuffling up to you was the youngest dwarf in the company, sweet Ori; Ori was one of the dwarves who accepted outsiders most readily, and you spent plenty of time at his side watching his drawings and records come to life. That day, though, what was in his hand was not his book, rather a bundle of fabric. "I made this for you." Eyes widening, you extend your hands to accept the soft knitting, peering back at Ori. "I thought your head must get cold," he explained his craft as you unfolded it, revealing a thick, sturdy cap you immediately began pulling onto your head, "does it fit?" Yarn hugging your head perfectly, you nodded. "It's just my size. Thank you." Before he could speak again, you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, pulling him into a hug. "This is the kindest thing anyone has done for me in some time. Thank you."

Fili

“One of my braids came undone. Kili?” The younger Durin prince seemingly did not hear the request for his presence, so you stepped forward. “I can help.” Goggling at you, Fili posed a question. “Do you even know how?” Hand falling to your hip, you shot him a look. “Though I may not possess them myself, I am quite capable of doing them up.” The golden-haired dwarf looked sheepish, a bit of the mischief fading from his blue eyes. “Suppose I assumed you didn’t much enjoy doing them either,” he told you with a nod toward your head. “Well,” a teasing smile drifted across your face, “I certainly would…unless you are scared.” You were no fool. You knew how the Durins were with challenges. And if you remembered correctly, you knew how dwarves were with braids…

Kili

He cares some of the least out of the dwarves being the least traditionally presenting himself. He’s sort of the type to be a little attracted to everyone, enjoying the unique traits of all types of people. You still cannot help being a bit surprised when he flirts with you, though, not expecting someone with a cut like yours to catch his eye or draw his teasing. “Not one for a courting braid, I see? No one worthy of putting one on you, no doubt.” For all his jesting questions, he never actually demands an answer, though. Instead he simply launches into a story about a haircut prank he pulled with his older brother once to keep light conversation flowing. “Well, by the end of it our uncle looked quite like you! Except he didn’t pull it off half as well.”

Taglist: @lokilover476 @fuckyoumakeart @kilibaggins | Let me know if you'd like to join!

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beanghostprincess · 1 year ago

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Rayleigh and Buggy reunion, but Rayleigh is being over the top judgemental about everything, like idk if u are familiar with crazy ex girlfriend the TV show but Rayleigh shows up and acts exactly like Rebecca's mom does. Overcritical of his life choices and dismissive of what he perceives as excuses coming from Buggy, because he knows Buggy's true potential and is annoyed with Buggy not living up to it. He gives Crocodile a once over and goes "is that what you found to replace Shanks with" and moves on and Crocodile doesn't even have a moment to compute the way he was just insulted because Rayleigh has moved on to criticising Mihawk's cooking instead. Worst part is, this all comes from a genuine place of love and care, Rayleigh is legitimately worried sick about his baby clown son of 39 years, but he cannot express that worry without being extremely invasive about everything. Buggy isn't even responding, he just shoots ppl apologetic looks and rolls his eyes when Rayleigh isn't looking because of course he does this obviously Buggy is never good enough for him and Shanks had always been the favourite (you ask Shanks or any other Roger pirate and they will tell you that Buggy is Rayleigh's baby boy and absolute favourite with utmost confidence, too bad the emotional constipation runs in the crew). Dinner is awkward as fuck, because Rayleigh makes attempts at being easygoing but his motherhenning nature irt Buggy shines through, his conviction that Buggy would be happier with Shanks by his side is making him be overcritical of everyone in that dinner and he keeps discussing the good old days and subtly hinting at Buggy that there is still time for him to go back to Shanks....and Buggy looks close to frustrated tears (and everyone agrees, Crocodile has snapped 5 cigars in half with his teeth and Mihawk is 5 seconds away from banging his head on the table).

Just overbearing father Rayleigh being stifling and trying to overcompensate for his shit parenting choices during Buggy's childhood and Buggy having his daddy issues expanded upon (and Crocodile and Mihawk gaining insight to Buggy's entire deal)

"Idk if u are familiar with crazy ex girlfriend the TV sho-" My therapist literally told me to stop watching it so much because it was affecting my mental health. So. Yes. I know the show. It's one of my favorite shows EVER. Rebecca is just like me fr my beloved. All of them my beloveds. The songs my beloveds. Don't make me go into CEG x OP because I won't finish. And as you can see, I did not listen to my therapist.

Even though I've always seen Rayleigh as the one who understands Buggy the most (Roger and him love Shanks and Buggy equally but it is quite obvious they put more pressure on Shanks to be more like Roger and that only made things worse by making Buggy's inferiority complex exist) and the one who stands up more for him and comforts him when needed, it is true that he might be more judgemental and he'd be worried for Buggy. Like. Think about it. Roger died and the kids (their kids) ended up alone and going their own separate ways. For Rayleigh, finding out Shanks and Buggy aren't together is just?? So weird?? Because they've always been together. Birds of a feather (if somebody mentions the song 'Two Birds' I am punching them because I can't handle that song today please). And it's just... Well, surprising. 'But as long as they're okay' but they're obviously not okay!!! And it's not that Rayleigh is judging Buggy. In fact, I think he would do the same with Shanks. The second Rayleigh sees Shanks he's already saying he drinks too much (even for a pirate) and that he's been acting recklessly and "What the fuck are you doing without Buggy? Is this because of Buggy?" / "I do not drink because of him. It's- It's not about him. He left-" / "HE LEFT AND YOU DIDN'T DO ANYTHING?????" / "I hate it when you get like this" / "Like what?" / "Like you want to still do something about my life. I'm an adult, thank you very much-" / "No, you're not if you keep acting this way". And I personally think Rayleigh would just be worried for the both of them and also feel extremely guilty because he wasn't there to fix things when they fought, the way he always did. "The second I left you alone you two start a fight that lasts two decades?" and he would say this to both of them and they would hate it.

But yeah, going back to Buggy I think he'd be worried because. Well. Have you seen Crocodile and Mihawk? I mean. They're kind of on good terms with Buggy now (more or... More or less. Kind of. They're not equals but they're some sort of weird thing and they respect and care for each other. More or less. It's- It's complicated. Don't ask) but they're still them. And Rayleigh can't help but see the situation and be like "I'm proud you made a name of yourself, kid, but you don't have to do this if you don't want to" (meaning: You could go back to Shanks any time you wanted) and Buggy takes it as an "You could go back to Shanks any time you wanted because you'd be safer with him" instead of the real "You could go back to Shanks any time you wanted because you'd be happier with him and this war of pride and hearts you have going on is dumb". And he understands Buggy needs to be away from Shanks to grow, but it's just so, so sad to see them like this when they used to love each other so damn much.

Also, I think Buggy would be going through the worst moment of his life and Crocodile and Mihawk would be so done for different reasons. First, they don't give a fuck about all of this drama. And second, they are starting to see Buggy more like a person and understand why he is the way he is, and the things Rayleigh is saying are bothering them a lot. They've been trying to make the clown move on from his past so he's useful for once (because when he believes in himself he's actually not a burden and more interesting) and now this guy (that they respect because it's Silvers Fucking Rayleigh) comes and tries to change things around here? Nope. Not happening.

So basically, what you're trying to tell me is that Rayleigh regrets raising the boys that way and now he's overcompensating and it's overwhelming for everyone, right? I- I love it. Great plot. 10/10. In character. Perfect. It makes me go insane. I love their daddy issues.

(Also, can we talk about how "This Was a Shit Show" and "What'll it be" are extremely Buggy songs??? Because- Because now I want to-)

#i absolutely loved this i have no words to explain how much i love this #one piece #buggy the clown #silvers rayleigh #red haired shanks #cross guild #shuggy #< target audience #i mean it's obvious i was taking it as romantic for them

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lullydoesstuff · 4 months ago

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Tips on how to create a Demon Slayer OC

Hello guys and welcome back on my side-blog! Today I wanted to talk about something that might be useful of you want to create a good KNY OC and just... vibe with them or create art, write about them... everything. If you want to see mine you can find all of them on @bluespiderlully (that is also my main blog), but for now let's just talk about some things you have to keep in mind while creating.

🩷 Design

This part is very important when it comes to art and descriptions, I'll start to say that I've seen MANY original versions of the Demon Slayer Corp uniforms and that many of them look good, so if you design a totally new one, go for it and slay. Another important thing concerning the uniform is buttons, there's plenty of characters redesigned out there, they have colorful buttons in their uniforms and they all look so cute, but in canon we see that the buttons' color is used to define the rank of someone, common slayers have silver buttons, Hashiras have golden ones. We're talking about a military thing, so rank is pretty important and this should be kept in mind. Last but not the least: it's 1920s Japan, so maybe having your character wearing some ballet shoes or sneakers might result cringy, avoid that.

🩷 Backstory

This is maybe one of the most important parts. When you write a backstory you should consider the period of time where the story takes place and the general rules of the world where your OC is living. For example, Taisho Era: your character could have lost their parents due to WW1, or they could come from America or other parts of the world used to interact with Japan (selling/buying stuff), possibilities in this case are infinite and this era gives you the opportunity to create the best backstories ever. Next, Japan had major tensions with China and Korea so this gives you the opportunity to insert this in your OCs backstory (this is something I didn't use, I just have an half-American character but I regret not using any of this political tension for any of my characters, please of you're out there and trying to create an OC, do it, it's very interesting).

🩷 Personality

Don't make your character a Mary Sue/Gary Stue. If you don't know what a Mary Sye/Gary Stue is I'll explain very quick: it's a too perfect, too kind, too sweet characrer, without any flaws and loved by everyone... I think the reason why this characters don't work is clear, the lack of internal and external conflict is very important, since we're talking about Demon Slayer let's take Tanjiro as an example. Tanjiro is kind, but he's not perfect and he keeps asking himself if what he's doing is morally okay, he keeps tormenting himself about the fact that he's actually killing people just for his mean to turn Nezuko back into a human and he blames himself for other people's deaths... this is the demonstration that you can write a kind and sweet character, but focus on thier psychology and ideas, if they're already perfect they won't have any evolution, and once they had one maybe at the end of the story, don't make them perfect either, especially since you're talking about a world were your OC would most likely be a soldier, if they end up being alive they'll have traumas and let's be honest, no one will ever be perfect.

🩷 Power

Okay, so this is maybe the main point. DON'T. MAKE. YOUR. CHARACTER. OP... thanks, here's a cookie for you 🍪. If your character is an Hashira like mines, they ABSOLUTELY need a reason why they're one, okay? They can't be weak of course, they need to be very very skilled at something. We all agree about that but making your character extremely powerful, extremely strong and skilled, "they're the strongest Hashira ever", "they can solo Muzan" doesn't make your character interesting, it makes your character cringe. But of course they can have skills that others don't have, let's take one of my characters as an example: Ayumi Shinazugawa, my favourite child. She has a bow, no one else has one and she's really skilled with it, no one is as skilled as her... with a bow... because Ayumi is a 1.50mt schizophrenic blueberry with anxiety, she's not stronger than other Hashiras. If they need a sniper, okay, they'll take Ayumi, if they need anything else they'd take someone else, definitely, and she's not the kind of character to be sent in a mission alone, it's just unsafe.

🩷 Relationships

We're now at the last point. Having characters that are siblings with other characters in the show can become very very interesting, because you can explore more the canon character too, I personally love this trope everytime. But now let's come to romantic relationship, ships, the best thing on Earth after white wine mixed with strawberry juice. First, if your OC is an adult please leave Muichiro, Tanjiro and every other minor alone, if you want your character to date one of these the way is very simple: make them a minor too, shipping a minor with another minor is fine and it's realistic too, if you think it's wired just think about your first romantic relationships and crushes... how old were you? Probably 14/15. There's another thing you must consider, the fact that many characters in the Demon Slayer universe have a rude personality, I mean, you could totally ship your character with people like Obanai or Sanemi, but their personality should at least match theirs or being similar, to date someone you have to get along with this person, so consider this, it's not something to ignore, and it absolutely counts for friendships too. Consider that if your character is very kind they could have disagreements with characters like Obanai or Sanemi, and the disliking would probably be mutual.

I hope this post was useful for you, and I hope you all come out with amazing OCs, I love to see them and I love how much creative this community can be so please don't spare your creativity and give life to the OC in your head that just wants to be drawn or written.🩷

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marlenelyra · 2 years ago

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J. Bellingham- Live

Fluff

You and Jude had just come home from a date night. Your feet hurting from the heels that your wore all night, kicking them of, throwing them into the corner of your foyer. Jude was right behind you as you grabbed his hand leading him up to your shared bedroom. Your hands laced together as you stood in the middle of your bedroom. He pulled you back and swung you around making you face him.

His other hand reached for your face, his eyes piercing yours.

„Thank you for today, I really needed that with stressful training and everything“ he muttered

„of course baby always“ kissing his cheek and letting go of him to change into comfortable clothes. Searching in your wardrobe you didn’t find anything to wear, that’s a lie you had tons of things so wear, you just didn’t want to wear your own stuff.

„Judeee“ you dragged his name out looking at him with puppy eyes „can I please have something to wear from you“

He chuckled looking back at you and your pleading face. He couldn’t resist.

„Fine, sure baby take whatever you want“

You squealed as you jumped up in happiness running to his wardrobe. He loved seeing you happy, that’s all that counted, and if that meant he had to lend you his clothes, that you also looked fucking amazing in, then so be it. Win. Win. Situation.

As you both changed into his clothes you came out wearing his joggers and a Hoddie. He couldn’t help but smile in awe. God you looked so pretty and hot. Woah.

You both went into bed, deciding to just spend the rest of the night chilling in bed. Jude also had to go live, something about promoting BvB or something, you couldn’t remember. He sat across from you, so people wouldn’t see you. Your relationship wasn’t puplic yet, I mean people knew about Jude having a girlfriend, since he couldn’t stop talking about you, like in Interviews ranting about how you were his motivation and how he would dedicate all his goals to you, making cute story’s of you holding hands or even of tonight in the restaurant. But no one ever saw your face. And you both liked it that way.

So Jude sat across from you holding his phone op so the people on his live could see his face. Your head rested against the headboard scrolling through your phone and one in a while you lifted up your head checking on Jude when he was laughing.

Jude chuckled „How is your girlfriend“ he read a comment out loud. Your head immediately snapping up.

He looked up his eyes fixated on yours. You were looking at each other.

„Yes baby how are you“ he smiled waiting for an answer.

You didn’t really wanna speak so you just let your phone drop and put your thumbs up. he grinned at your response.

„I think she is doing good“ Jude said out loud answering the question his fan had asked.

His eyes had never left yours, but how could he stop starring at you. You were sitting there in his way to big Hoddie all cuddled up only there for him. After a longer moment he pulled his eyes away from yours scanning over the comments again.

„she got him whipped, god how he looks at her, he is so in love with her“ Jude chuckled as he read out loud smiling like an idiot.

„yes i defiantly am“ looking at you again

Your head perked up again as you smiled at him

„Okay guys Imma end this live good night“ he put his phone out as he jumped forward his head landing on your chest and the rest of his body on your legs.

„See Even my fans think that I love you“ he laughed. You stroked his hair as you let your phone drop onto the bedside table. You pulled yourself down so you could lay on your back. Jude adjusted himself. He was still laying on your chest his arms stroking yours side, your legs tangled together. You couldn’t be happier with the boy of your dreams in your arms.

„I love you too“ you mumbled.

#football imagine #jude bellingham #jude bellingham fluff #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham x reader

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silverview · 1 month ago

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royston vasey / spent dashboard simulator

😎 anon asked: happy anniversary!! you and your husband are so cute together aaaa i think it's amazing you've been together so long

🌟 starllghtx

thanks anon, amazing is one word for it LMAO amazing that i’m still putting up with him!!!!

👨🏻 c-handy-c-harlie Follow

don’t listen to her anon i planned a very thoughtful anniversary i bought her flowers and everything

🌟 starllghtx

anon you should see the state of these mangy fckn corner shop flowers he got me anon literally the worst flowers you’ve ever seen

👨🏻 c-handy-c-harlie Follow

they were lovely when i got them home anon!! they just shrivelled up as soon as they got near her anon!!

🌟 starllghtx

anonnn sometimes i wonder what would happen if i walked out the front door and just kept walking and never stopped or turned around?? things could’ve been different but i think now it might be too late??? /lh /hj

🌟 starllghtx

unrelated can anyone recommend a good AFFORDABLE vibrator

16 notes

☎️ bigwoman

sorry if you send me an ask and i don’t reply straight away it’s nothing personal

☎️ bigwoman

turning off asks until some of you learn to be normal

1 note

🤡 goodjokesbygeoff Follow

here’s one for you…... i’ll reblog it later with the punchline...... how many flies does it take to screw in a lightbulb?

😎 lifein-plastic-deactivated20210105

two, but don’t ask me how they got in there!

🤡 goodjokesbygeoff Follow

delete this off my post or i'll kill you

😎 lifein-plastic-deactivated20210105

get it because the flies are "screwing in" the lightbulb but they're also "screwing" in the lightbulb if you see what i mean :D

🍻 badpostsbybrian Follow

i know it's all "ha ha deactivated blog op got him" but in this case i am genuinely concerned that op might have killed this guy

299 notes

🩺 vetchinary

Big day at work today!! Going to help with calving at one of the local farms, can’t wait ☺️ Helping a new life into the world is always a privilege

🖊️ birofutch

how did it go?

🩺 vetchinary

I don’t want to talk about it

⛪️ ice-burn

3 notes

#tlog #this is so stupid and so SHORT but that's all i got !#really i just want to read one of these so my hope is someone else will do a better/longer one for me to enjoy :-)#the league of gentlemen

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kamotecue · 1 year ago

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can you write for daphne van domselaar? a fluffy off day at aston villa or something?

something cliche ❉ d. van domselaar

pairing: daphne van domselaar x fem!reader

summary: a picnic date with your long distance girlfriend during international break, it’s something cliche after all. dutch!reader

you were excited that international break had started, even though players most likely had a chance of getting injured—it was the only time for you to see your girlfriend.

she played in england, aston villa—while you played in spain, real madrid. as you arrived at the team’s entertainment room, you were tackled by daphne, the one you are madly in love with.

“ik heb je gemist. [i’ve missed you.]” daphne said, as you chuckled bringing your nose to hers.

“ik heb je meer gemist, liefje. [i missed you more, love.]” she hummed, you gave her a soft smile as you wrapped her closer to you—not minding the teasing grins from your national teammates. but the two of you were on the youngest side of the team.

“coach zei dat we vandaag niets gaan doen, zou je het leuk vinden om vandaag met me op date te gaan? [coach said we’re not going to do anything today, would you love to go on a date with me, today?]” you watched as she gave you a little nod, before she simply separated the two of you.

you watched as she bid goodbye, going to her room. viv, your roommate this camp ruffled your hair as you laughed.

“hoe eerder je klaar bent, hoe sneller je op de date kunt zijn, kleintje. [the sooner you’re ready, the sooner you can be on the date, little one.]” viv teased as you snickered at her behavior.

it didn’t take long for you to finished, but when you did—you simply dressed yourself before heading to her room, with a small little bag for the date.

“klaar? [finished?]” you asked, as you gave her a kiss on the cheek.

“je hebt er een beetje lang over gedaan. [it took you a bit long.]” she teased, poking your side but closed the door behind her.

you laughed knowing that she was right, you were late—by a minute. viv had asked about the time you’ll both be back, but you gave her a little estimate. knowing you weren’t sure when, it was a something cliche after all.

the walk to the park was silent, something you both enjoyed was mainly each other’s company. you had settled down a blanket, before placing down a few handmade sandwiches.

“een beetje cliché ben je. [you’re a bit cliché.]” daphne replied, as you gave her a gummy smile knowing she was correct. you pulled out a lego box, it was a bunch of lego flowers—something you wanted to do with daphne.

you preferred lego flowers, as they won’t die like real flowers do. it was something long lasting, you were brought into a hug as she gave you a huge thanks.

that night, you both had talked about football related things, life and etc. and when you went back to the hotel, happy looks were given to your way—but you both didn’t mind it.

#daphne van domselaar #daphne van domselaar x reader #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso one shot

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callofdudes · 2 years ago

Note

Hello! I hope you've had a good (of night if your nocturnal like me) Haven't been feeling too well this past week, so I would really appreciate if you could write a poly! fic (or plantonic, whatever your more comfortable with) where reader who is known for not being mentally sound has been really out of it the entire week, sends the 141 + könig a text saying "thanks for everything, I love you all. " and everyone panics, rushing to readers room and könig and ghost have to Fucking BREAK down the locked door, and find reader lying in a pool of their own blood from all the cuts they made on their body. Past cuts have been reopened, and reader is in critical conditionof this ask makes you uncomfortable I totally undsrstand, have a good day/night

As someone who has struggled with this stuff, you are loved here, and you are not alone ❤️ if you can't seem to find comfort around you, I promise you have a safe space to talk here. And please reach out to the right help.

Thank you @g4y-gr3ml1n for the request. I hope you are satisfied.

CW: Attempted suicide, cutting, hurt with comfort

How long have you been feeling like this? What time was it? You look up at the clock, another two hours until lunch, just great.

You looked back down at your paperwork, too uncomfortable to stop yourself from scratching at the healing scars on your arms. You'd promised yourself to try and stop, you were really trying. You'd started calling them scars from missions to try and cope. But nothing ever worked.

Your knee bounces rapidly, hitting the underside of your desk with a light thump, thump.

The look of the paperwork in front of you was no different. Why were you feeling off. You weren't supposed to be like this anymore.

You finally stopped scratching and stood up from your desk. You just needed a break. You walk out of your office and down the hallway. It wasn't long before you ran into Johnny and his bright sunny smile.

"Hey y/n, what's turning the cogs up there today??"

It was an innocent question but it felt hard to answer. You suddenly don't feel like talking. You hang your head and slowly slip past him. "Mm sorry Johnny." you mutter on the way.

Johnny turns, watching you as you go, his eyebrow raising. Maybe something happened?? He hadn't seen you all day.

Each step you take down the hallway feels like a dark void. Each footsteps sinking you further and further into darkness. The empty hallway doesn't help at all to break the silence and overcome your thoughts as you walk. You flip up your sleeve and find the fresh cuts, already starting to prickle with blood from irritation, and you start to scratch.

Your nails dig into the cuts and tear open the flesh. Ripping away new skin and chalking blood all over your fingers.

The thoughts were back, you'd warded them away but they returned.

"Useless human being, Incapable,ugly, annoying, a failure." It all swam around in your head and before long you were faced with your bedroom door.

You push it open and slam it shut. You let a sob tear from your throat in the comfort of your room. The cold, dark room that gave little comfort anymore. It felt like a routine getting up and going to bed. Breathing seems to be the only thing you are good at anymore.

You hold yourself, huddled in a ball against your door as you cry. Painful tears wash over you. And all the pain you'd tried to push down comes with it. Every memory, every ache and every pain. You can't help wanting to scream until your lungs give out, and yet you can't.

You bang your head back against your door. What's wrong with me?? What's wrong with me?? There is nothing wrong with you, that's what everyone around you tells you. But you know they're wrong.

You cry into your hands, your eyes stinging up in pain. Finally having the strength to move you stumble to the bedroom mirror and look at yourself. You can't see what they see, the loving, caring person they all say you are.

And instinctively you start to dig in your drawers. You yank them all open, sadness, fear, and pain boiling up in your stomach and in your head.

Take a deep breath, sleep it off, you'll be ok.

Find Simon! Find Simon, he'll help. They'll help you. You know they will.

But that thought was too far gone. It wasn't worth the time walking around looking for solace when you had some right here.

You grabbed the handle of the blade.

Simon had gifted it to you on your birthday and you almost felt guilty that you'd never used the thing in self defense before.

You were about to press the knife to your skin when your insides flipped. Your heart pounds in your throat. You drop the blade and rush to the bathroom, feeling your breakfast rise up your throat. Through tears and acid stinging your throat, cupping the sides of the toilet as everything is let go. You feel worthless and stupid.

The bile stings and cuts off the oxygen you so desperately need. It feels like you're dying. It feels like it goes on forever.

When everything stops, your tears just come harder. Your tired body collapses to the bathroom floor in heart wrenching sobs. You wanted to break something, make something else take this endless pain.

You were done pushing it down and trying to change. You couldn't love yourself no matter how much others did for you. They could never get rid of all the hurt and the anguish that boiled inside of you.

Every "I'm fine" and "I promise" felt like a regurgitated ugly lie to keep the ones you love at bay. To keep Simon and König away. Johnny and Gaz. Even Price.

You pull yourself off the floor and come back over to your bed, feeling exhausted. Just sleep it off. Please, just try and sleep it off. It'll be ok tomorrow.

Lies, it would never go away. It never would.

Your eyes fixated on the blade on your bed, then to yourself in the mirror.

You pulled your phone out of your pocket, knowing this would be it. You were done feeling like this. Feeling worthless and empty.

Your hands started to shake when you started to write. The group chat was for important stuff. This would be important to them right?? Who were you kidding? Of course it wouldn't.

You sent the text and grabbed the blade, tearing it into your skin without a second thought. The pain was like a sweet release. Blood flowing from your arm and down your wrist. It felt like an escape. A whole different reality. You tore your shirt off and started to cut, and cut, and cut…

It was a normal day, everything seemed to be going perfect for Simon. He finished up paperwork early and was on his way to find Johnny when his phone buzzed. It was either Johnny or you, he felt a smile tugs at his lips at the thought. He hadn't seen you all day, you were supposed to be loaded with work.

He pulls out his phone, seeing that it was you who had texted the group chat. He opened the message and his blood ran cold.

He stopped along the hallway, rereading the text over and over and over again. His insides tightened and his pulse spiked like he was falling out of an airplane. He couldn't move. He couldn't speak.

Another text popped up.

"Herrlich, wo bist du!?" It was from König.

Simon's hands trembled and real, raw fear pitted him in the chest. His legs felt like jello when he turned to run. "Y/N!!"

He made a break for your office and pulled the door open when he got there. Apparently König had the same idea, falling in line when Simon rushed in to find your paperwork barely touched.

Simon couldn't catch his breath. No no no, this isn't happening. This wasn't happening. His legs caved in, König rushing to grab him and hold him up. They made eye contact and they both knew if they didn't find you they would lose you.

König's voice shook. "Their room??"

Simon nods.

They run from your office, finding Gaz and Johnny along the way. There were no questions asked. Nothing said, if they didn't find you everyone would suffer.

They ran across the building to the barracks and came to your room.

"Y/n!!!"

Simon pounds on the door.

"Y/n please!!"

"Open the door please!!!"

"Oh God y/n please!! I know you're hurting but please don't do that! I promise you I'm right here!! I'm right here y/n please!!" He screams.

He's trembling so badly he can barely twist the doorknob.

He wails when he finds it locked.

Johnny tries to force it open, banging his shoulder into the door as hard as he can.

"Stand back" König steps in front of him, letting Gaz and Johnny take Simon and keep him from passing out.

König's heart is in his ears, blood rushing so fast he feels dizzy and his vision is near fuzzy. He slams into the door and kicks it on, the lock combusting with the force. And he enters the room.

His insides tighten and everything goes dark. Simon rushes into the room and sees the blood. He sees you, and the blade he'd given you.

Simon wails again, falling to your knees. He rips off his mask and takes your hand, holding it tightly in his. "Please… please…"

"Please don't go. Y/n I'm so sorry- I'm so sorry honey."

König can't move. His body is entirely frozen. Seeing you laying there in your own blood. It's dripping down the sheets and pooling all over you. You'd torn up your arms, destroyed your legs and he didn't want to think what else.

Johnny and Gaz rush in, running to your side next to Ghost.

"Stop the bleeding! We have to stop the bleeding!" Gaz can barely speak, hands trembling when he touches you, the tips of his fingers soaked in blood.

Tears filled König's eyes and spilled down his cheeks. He didn't remember the point he started falling until his head hit the ground.

Everyone was in tears, and Price was the last to show up. He'd seen the text late, and he was scared he couldn't save you.

König was having a panic attack, barely breathing and shaking like a leaf. Simon was full out wailing, holding your limp hand and begging you not to go.

Price crawls onto the bed and cups your neck gently. He kisses your forehead and cradles you in his arms.

Simon looks up at him. "Price please- they can't leave!"

Price ran his fingers through your hair and over your pressure point, feeling barely a pulse over his fingers.

"If we don't move now, I don't think we'll ever see them again."

Simon could barely stand as Price pulls you up into his arms and cradles you. "I've got you honey, don't worry, I've got you love" Price lays a blanket over you to keep you warm and concealed from other soldiers seeing you like this.

Johnny, Gaz and König leave with Price, but Simon couldn't move. Simon looks down at the blade covered in your own blood.

"I'm sorry…"

"I'm so sorry…"

"I-"

He drops the blade and hides his face. He couldn't lose another important person. Please no. He couldn't have one more person taken away from him. You couldn't leave. He didn't want you to join Tommy and the others yet.

He stays there in your room for what felt like minutes, but was all of hours.

Simon gently rocking himself back and forth.

Eventually he is able to move, barely getting to his own room.

Nobody slept that night.

Simon wasn't a believer but he begged God to spare your life. He couldn't lose you. He couldn't lose you. Everyone else has been ruthlessly ripped away from him and he couldn't have it happen again. He cared so much for you.

König couldn't process it. Nightmare after nightmare. Every time he walked into that room and saw his best friend collapsed on the bed.

The others didn't sleep a wink either.

Price tried to do your paperwork for you, but he couldn't. He kept checking his phone for any notice that you were stable and doing ok after he'd delivered you to hospice.

Breakfast was quiet, for those who showed up. Gaz and Johnny didn't speak as they ate, eating half of what they usually would.

"Try and finish your food boys." Price instructed.

"I don't feel hungry." Johnny whispered.

"You need to eat, it'll make your body happy."

Johnny shook his head. "I'm sorry." He slipped away from the lunch table and didn't return.

Gaz looked down at his own plate, barely touched. He tried to finish.

When the hospital called saying you needed an urgent blood transfusion, Gaz didn't hesitate. You both matched blood types, and he didn't care how much you needed, if it would keep you alive he'd give you every organ In his body.

"This will only hurt a bit." The nurse smiled.

"If it helps y/n, any kind of pain is worth it."

"That's very kind of you, soldier."

"A needle won't hurt nearly as much as if my love doesn't wake up." He replied, deadpan and serious, not wanting to think of that outcome at all.

Two days passed. But finally, you could feel the feeling return in your fingers. Tightness around your arms, your pulse beating against the bandages like it were trying to escape out from the healing wounds.

Your eyes slowly opened, the bright white making your heart race. You weren't in heaven now, were you? For some reason it felt… long. A long wait.

And then a face was looking at you.

"Simon…?" You whispered.

His blurry face filled with relief, rough hands gently cupping your cheeks.

"Yes love, it's me. I'm right here."

You reached out your hand for him but Simon gently brought it back down. "I love you so much y/n." Tears swell in your eyes, his warm lips pressing against your own, soaking in your presence.

He was trembling when he held you, pulling away from the kiss to give you air.

He pulled out his phone and sent a quick text before his attention was back on you.

"What... Happened..?"

Simon's soft eyes turn saddened. The door opens and two more figures ran in.

Gaz and Price are at your side.

You smile softly, seeing them both. "Guys..."

Gaz wasn't always known to cry, but he burst into tears seeing your smile. He kisses your forehead in relief. "Thank goodness you're ok."

"Gaz," You whisper.

"I'm right here, and the captain too. Johnny and König are on their way."

Gas moves away so Price can see you and he cups your hands tightly. "I'm sorry we weren't there for you in a time of need."

Everything slowly comes back and you start to cry, nodding while he holds you. "But we love you so much hon. And you can always come and talk to us. Please don't bottle it up because we care. We care so much for you hon."

You sob when the others enter, embracing the loving kiss Price presses to your cheek.

Johnny's hands are all over you, whispering love in your ear when he comes to your bedside. Something about it makes you feel so loved in the moment. So utterly loved. More tears fall. Johnny kisses them away. Peppering soft kisses along your jaw and over your cheeks. He presses another kiss to your lips and embraces your scent. The way your lips feel against his.

He finally pulls away, tears in his own eyes. "We love you so so much."

König is next, nearly picking you up out of your bed and engulfing you in his arms. He nuzzles against your warmth, his heart racing out of his chest.

You quiver, holding him back. That's when you see the bandages on your arms. You're still in pain, but you hug him back.

"I love you guys too."

"I just.... Couldn't take it."

"Please talk to us then," Simon placed his hand on your shoulder. "We will always be here for you. Ok?"

You nod, more tears flowing down your cheeks.

"We all love you y/n. We love you so much." Price's soft voice came as you were laid back down on the hospital bed. They stayed with you, comforting you with their presence until you were drifting back asleep. The sound of their voices sending you into peace.

You are loved. So so incredibly loved. And even when the world feels dark, the people who will hug you and listen to you are closer than they appear.

Sometimes it's scary to reach out for help, but the ones who truly love you will never let you fall once they catch you.

Loved ones, help lines, even someone over the internet may make it better, helping you to triumph over these things.

And I know it feels dark, but you are so loved, even when the ones who love you seem to be the furthest away.

-El

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