#the way that they are the most equipped to understand each other's pain and refuse to acknowledge it | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

bitsandbobsofwriting · 4 years ago

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A rogue Druid’s “please join us” speech to Merlin triggers a few things:

Gwaine tries to commit regicide, Leon confronts his (understandable) fear of Dragons, and Merlin has a full on mental breakdown.

The knights are left to pick up the pieces and all of them consider following Gwaine’s lead.

ANGSTY ANGSTY

TW: Blood, death, nightmares. Physical and verbal abuse. A very brief implication of potential suicide/self harm.

Everyone notices the sudden changes within the group, it would be hard not to notice.

No one has any clue what happened though.

One day, everything is fine. If they think back, they realise Merlin had seemed a little... nervous? Maybe? But other than that, everything was fine, normal.

But the next day? From then until now, a month later? Everything was different.

Arthur seemed much angrier. He flew off the handle over the smallest mistakes, he worked the knights so hard in training that at least three of them had to go to Gaius for treatment everyday, and he didn’t seem like he planned on letting up any time soon. He snapped at everyone, even Gwen and Gaius, which was unheard of.

Merlin seemed... quieter. The knights, Gwen, and Gaius barely saw him, but when they did, he flinched at even the slightest noise; his eyes constantly darted around, looking for a way to escape, and he wouldn’t let anyone touch him.

They were worried, but Arthur was so constantly furious that no one dared bring it up with him, and the one time they tried to ask Merlin, he came up with some ridiculous excuse and ran away. They thought they had barely seen him before, but after that they didn’t see him at all for at least four days.

They also noticed how both of their worrying moods seemed ten times worse when they were with each other. Even just being in the same room, made Arthur angrier, and Merlin... they didn’t want to think it but... more scared.

After three weeks of this, they gathered together, and put into place their emergency plan. Leon would speak directly to Arthur, and Lancelot would speak directly to Merlin.

Of all of them, they were the most trusted by each target, and were the most likely to get answers, and the least likely to get a bad reaction if answers were refused.

They were... pretty wrong. Merlin reacted in the same way as he had to the group two and a half weeks ago. Which is odd, because he normally tells Lancelot everything, and not only did he not tell him, he lied and came up with excuses.

Leon was much worse for wear. He showed up a while after Lancelot, pale and miserable. Arthur had just yelled at him a bunch and assigned him extra patrols.

A few days later, they were all still struggling with what to do when Arthur informed them of a quest that was to be undertaken. They were... nervous, to say the least. Going on any sort of dangerous trip with Arthur in this state was bound to go badly, but they could hardly refuse, and they definitely couldn’t bring up the issue again.

So they resigned themselves to it. Gwen wished them luck, and made sure to give Merlin an extra tight hug before they left, and Gaius slipped a few extra medical supplies in each of the knights packs, just in case.

Apparently, patrols of Camelot Knights kept going missing. Whole groups of soldiers, in one very specific area near the border, were just not coming back.

Arthur could hardly justify sending more patrols out, so despite his foul mood, and his desperation to stay away from everyone, he took himself, his five best knights, and his manservant.

Elyan could’ve sworn he heard Arthur mutter something along the lines of “As if I’d leave you here unsupervised.”, to Merlin, the tone far less jesting that it might’ve been a month ago, but he kept it to himself. They were travelling and camping together, there would hardly be an opportunity to share without Arthur and Merlin there.

And like they were all expecting, the trip was hell.

Awkward silences that not even Gwaine could fill, Merlin looking close to tears the whole time, and Arthur constantly looking like he’s considering extreme violence.

Merlin even rides at the back of the group (unheard of), doesn’t complain even once about anything (even more unheard of), and the few times he does speak, he addresses all of them by their titles (down-right panic inducing).

They, of course, realise it had been a trap far too late, and before they even had time to shout and draw their swords, the camp fades around them.

When they wake an indiscernible amount of time later, they have been stripped of armour and weapons, and have been shackled.

They appear to be in a circular, one-room hut, the knights spaced equally and chained to the wall. Their cloaks remain, but any chainmail or armour they had been equipped with was gone, leaving them in the thin clothes they wore underneath, completely unprotected.

Merlin stood in the middle of the room, looking very confused. Once he noticed the knights stirring, he tried to take a step towards them, but frowned when he realised he couldn’t get within a arm’s reach of them.

Once the knights came around fully, they realised that whilst Merlin couldn’t move all that much, they couldn’t speak.

Arthur looks to Merlin with fury written all over his face, and pulls violently on his chains. Merlin flinches back and gasps out:

“This has nothing to do with me, I swear!”

Before the rest of the knights have time to change their expressions to one of confusion, a man walks through the door. Everyone’s gazes turn to him quickly, and they take in his appearance.

He looked like a Druid... but not quite right, like he hadn’t actually been to a camp in a while. He wore neutral colours, browns and greens, but despite his calm demeanour and gentle face, he looked a little crazed.

Where Druids stand calmly and walk softly, this man rushed in and fiddled with his hands, eyes darting around the room at everyone’s faces.

When Merlin goes to demand he introduce himself, the Druid holds a hand up, silencing him (no magic, just a gesture), and begins to speak:

“Who I am, does not matter. But I do know who you are, Emrys. I shall explain it your friends first, so they don’t get too lost.-”

The Druid smiles sadly, and turns to the knights, all of whom (apart from Lancelot) stare on in confusion at the melancholy resignation on the Druid’s face, and the dread on Merlin’s. Still unable to speak, and with very limited movement, they reluctantly resign themselves to listening to whatever speech the villain of the week had come up with.

“-Emrys has been being seen in prophetic visions for centuries. Whilst Uther Pendragon was destined to start the purge, Emrys, or as you know him: Merlin, is destined to stop it. He is said to be the most powerful Warlock to ever walk the earth, past present and future. He can bend the very elements of the world, bring down armies, turn cities to ash with a flick of his wrist. But destiny also foretold of The Once and Future King. Most have accepted that Arthur Pendragon, is said king.-”

Merlin was stiff but panicky during the Druid’s explanation, having realised that for whatever reason, he didn’t have access to his magic right now.

He could feel it buzzing under his skin, but every time he tried to pull it forward, it abandoned him, burrowing deep into his soul and hiding.

Merlin was tense and angry, angry that the chance to tell his friends the truth himself had been taken away, but his statue-like stillness is broken as he frowns and flinches slightly at the thinly veiled disgust in the sorcerer’s voice as he says Arthur’s name.

The Knights look confused, and very much shocked, their gazes flickering between the Druid and Merlin, but he refuses to meet their eyes.

“-Together, Emrys and the Forever King are destined to bring harmony and peace to the world, to restore magic’s place alongside the non magic, to inspire compassion, and stop the unjust genocide that Uther started.-”

Arthur and Leon shuffle uncomfortably at the mention of the late King and his sins, but are more focused on the other shocking revelations. The other knights (again, bar Lancelot, who is staring at Merlin apologetically) seem invested in the story, though they’re clearly confused.

Arthur was made aware of Merlin’s magic a few weeks ago, but despite Merlin’s choice to tell him willingly, he had reacted badly, and in his rage, hadn’t allowed Merlin to explain himself. The other knights were, of course, unaware of this, though they quickly put two and two together.

Despite Merlin’s best efforts, Arthur had stayed in the dark about the whole Emrys-prophecy-destiny thing.

The Druid gives each knight a short assessing gaze, seemingly to make sure they were paying attention.

He turns his attention back to Merlin, who is trying very hard to keep his expression blank (and failing) as he listens:

-”And how long have you waited, my friend, for Arthur to play his part in destiny. Ten years, of having the prophecies shoved down your throat by idealists, being told that you have no choice but to serve a man who would see your head on a spike should he know who you truly are. Ten years in the service of a man who has caused you nothing but pain, given you nothing but nightmares.-”

Merlin flinches and looks away. Every magic user in, or even near Camelot shares the same nightmares, all caused by the Pendragon Reign. There’s no need for a discussion about it, no need for a denial.

“-His father ripped your family apart. He himself stood at the grave of your best friend and told you he was evil, he himself killed the woman you loved-”

Arthur frowns in confusion at this. Merlin had never been in love. But he quickly doubts himself when he hears Merlin gasp quietly, and looks to him to see a tear slip down his cheek.

Fury flashes quickly across Lancelot’s face, obviously knowing the story, but he covers it quickly, and no one is the wiser to the anger slowly growing in his chest at what this so-called Druid was putting his friend through.

The Druid speaks his next words quietly, though still loud enough for everyone in the room to hear, as he lifts a soft hand and gently wipes away Merlin’s tear:

“-I know what you see when you close your eyes. I know why you are so exhausted. But do they? Have you told them?-”

The Druid nods his head in the direction of the knights, but doesn’t break eye contact with Merlin, who sniffles slightly before looking to the floor in shame.

“-Of the smoke and flames that you choke on when you sleep? You dream of pyres built just for you, built by the people you care most about. Even when you are awake, every second you have your eyes closed, every time you blink, you are forced to picture your so-called King with a sword at your throat, as if the scene were painted onto the back of your eyelids.-”

His voice had risen as he spoke and he had begun to pace, anger growing at the pain his Lord had gone through. He practically spits the word “King”, like just saying it disgusts him.

Merlin remains quiet, but he has a steady stream of tears down his face as he looks back at the Druid with despair. The knights watch on in anguish as they see the way he is suffering.

Arthur stops feeling angry and confused, and starts to feel a little guilty. Not that he would let it show; he stares on blankly.

Everyone wanted desperately to believe that the Druid was lying, manipulating them, that Merlin would deny it. But he didn’t. And that told them all they needed to know.

The Druid stopped his pacing, coming to a stand still in front of Merlin and cupping one of his cheeks softly with his hand. The knights pretend not to see Merlin lean into it slightly as his tears continue to fall.

The Druid begins again, speaking softly once more:

“-Were those fears unfounded? Were those nightmares irrational? I see the terror in your eyes. I see how petrified of your King you are.-”

Merlin lets out a shaky breath and glances quickly to Arthur, before looking back at the man in front of him.

The King is taken aback, and the knights are furious at the flash of fear on Merlin’s face when his gaze had momentarily met Arthur’s.

“-What did he do, when he found out? When you bared your soul and gave him nothing but honesty, and undeserved apologies. What did he do?-”

Merlin lets out his first audible sob, and the Knights pull at their chains slightly, desperate to comfort their friend. Arthur slumps back, remembering his actions as if they were mere hours ago.

One of Merlin’s hands lifted to cover his mouth as he chokes back a second sob, but the other lifts subconsciously to tug at the scarf around his neck.

The Druid lets a single tear escape his eye as he waves his hand gently, the scarf disappearing with the gentle golden glow of his eyes.

Merlin seems too distraught to notice; and moves both hands to clamp tightly over his mouth as tears stream down his face. His shoulders hunch, but not enough for any of the knights to miss what the Druid had clearly been trying to expose; a thin, barely healed scar along the base of his throat. As if a sword had been pressed there.

The Druid’s eyes lose focus slightly and he frowns as he ghosts a finger over the scar, seemingly asking the next question to himself:

“-Nightmares on the back of your eyelids, or visions of the future, hmm?-”

His eyes refocus, and he cards a hand through Merlin’s hair, trying to calm the man’s heartache as the knights stare on in horror.

Arthur resists the urge to look towards his knights, not wanting to see the disgusted glares he knows they’re sending his way.

The Druid pauses for a moment in his speech, waiting for Merlin to calm slightly before he quietly continued:

“-And what has he done since then? Has he allowed explanation? Has he seen the error of his ways and tried to understand? Or has he called you a liar, and a traitor. Has he called you a monster, whilst demanding that you continue to serve him?-”

Merlin’s breathing grows deeper as he struggles to control his sobs. He lowers his hands to be clenched at his sides, shaking, as the Druid softly places his hands on his shoulders.

His next words are spoken even quieter, though the knights can still hear him and the deadly anger that’s barely concealed in the man’s tone:

“-Has he laid hands on you, and called you a beast, while you cowered in fear, knowing that if you defended yourself he would see himself proven right?-”

Merlin let’s out loud, gasping sobs once more as the Druid’s hands travel softly down, from his shoulders to his wrists. There, he looks down, sorrow on his face as he carefully lifts Merlin’s sleeves, bunching them around his elbows.

The knights decide then and there they are going to protect Merlin no matter what, no matter from whom, as they each see the handprint shaped bruises littering Merlin’s arms.

“-He has hurt you, over and over and over-”

As he speaks, the Druid hovers his hands over the bruises, his eyes glowing softly golden as they heal.

“-And you despair, believing yourself worthless-”

Merlin flinches, and his sobbing grows more intense as his face is taken in soft hands.

“-waiting on a Golden Age that he refuses to bring. He is cruel, and unjust, how many more times must he hurt you? How many more of our people will the Pendragon line slaughter, out of misguided hatred? How much more sleep must you lose? How many more nightmares must you endure? You have stood loyally by his side for a decade, and had to stand and watch as he continued his father’s legacy, forced to believe it was destiny.-”

The Druid says “destiny” as if he hates the taste of the word in his mouth, the bloodshed of the past almost thirty years clearly having made him lose faith in the prophecies.

Merlin’s breathing has calmed slightly, and the knights aren’t sure whether to be relieved or frightened, as the Druid desperately continues, clutching Merlin’s hands in his own:

“-Too many lives have been lost, too much innocent blood spilt. Haven’t you yourself been forced to kill your own people to protect this False King from the consequences of his own actions?-”

The knights think too soon as Merlin’s breathing and sobs grow erratic once more. The manservant almost falls to the floor, his eyes clenched desperately shut, and only the Druids hands on his shoulders keeping him upright:

“-I was young, and naïve once. I too, believed in Arthur Pendragon, I believed in the prophecies, I believed he would a great king and a good man-”

He leans forward, pressing his forehead to Merlin’s as he gently says:

“-but he is not. He has failed you, and failed our people.-”

The Druid steps back, but still holds Merlin’s shoulder tightly as he gives him a pleading look.

The knights know what’s coming before it is said, and with the anguish and desperation and grief on their friend’s face? After they learned what their benevolent King had done? Well... they wouldn’t have blamed Merlin for saying yes.

“-I ask you to join me, Emrys. I know it’s difficult, to give up on a man you gave so much of yourself to, but there is too much Uther in him. It’s time, and you know this, to rewrite destiny. Dig your own path, liberate your own people, bring magic and compassion and harmony back to the world yourself.-”

Merlin, though distraught, still looks doubtful, and the knights hold their breath as the Druid continues, becoming more and more furious at their inability to speak.

All of them have tears in their eyes, if not falling already, even Arthur, though he has remained still and blank through the tears.

“-I know the flames you fear, the sword’s edge, the gallows’ drop, the axe’s fall. Do not let our kin continue to fear those things, do not stand by, waiting for the Pendragon tyrant to change, and allowing sacrifices to be made in the mean time.-”

Merlin’s sobbing begins again, and the Druid kisses him softly on the forehead before kneeling to the floor, gripping Merlin’s hands and looking up at him desperately:

"-You are Emrys, Lord of the Druids, and Conduit for all magic of this world. Not some servant that an entitled brat can toss around and treat lesser than the dirt he walks on. You are my King, our King. Not him.-”

He stands again and grips Merlin’s arms tightly, most likely leaving more bruises in place of the ones he had healed.

Merlin doesn’t notice the pain, but shakes his head stutteringly, still crying.

“-Do not let your people lose you to Arthur, as Arthur lost himself to Uther. To give up on him is painful, but the screams of your kin, burning for their gifts, echoing in your skull day and night?-”

The Druid’s hands move up to grip the sides of Merlin’s head, and he shakes him ever so slightly, his tone frantic and pleading:

“-That is worse. That is pain he will never understand, and certainly never care for. Join me, please my Lord I beg you, for our people.”

One of the Druid’s hands slides lower, to softly cup Merlin’s cheek again, but the other drops entirely.

The knights have never resented being magically gagged more than in this moment. They could do nothing but watch on in horror as the man summons a dagger behind his back.

The Druid is clearly waiting on his response, and Merlin is too distraught to notice the consequences of a wrong answer, tears flowing quickly down his face and ugly sobs forcing their way out of his throat.

Arthur watches in terror, knowing that this was his fault, that every shitty, selfish decision he had ever made had to led to this point. And the knights knew it too.

All they can do is pray to every deity they know the name of, that Arthur has done enough damage for Merlin to say yes. And oh, what a terrible thing to pray for.

The Druid softly strokes Merlin’s cheekbone with his thumb as the Warlock takes a deep breath, trying to calm himself. He looks up, meeting the gaze of the man opposite him before croaking:

“I... I can’t. Arthur is a good man, I have faith that he will-”

Before he can finish his sentence, the dagger is thrust up into his chest, his words stuttering to a stop and his red-rimmed eyes growing wide at the sudden, agonising pain spreading throughout his body.

Merlin is vaguely aware of the knights pulling roughly at their chains, but he pays them no mind as blood gurgles up his throat and he frowns, struggling to hear what the Druid was whispering in his ear:

“Then you have forsaken your people, and so I shall forsake you. Traitor.”

With that, Merlin is dropped roughly to the floor, dagger still imbedded in his chest as he lands on his side. Blood spills from both his mouth and the wound, eyes unfocused but heavy as the tears continue to overflow.

The knights are silently screaming, thrashing against their chains as their friend chokes, but Merlin ignores them in favour of smiling gently at the soft feeling of nothing, growing outwards from his chest.

He frowns once more, as though remembering something, and his eyes go glassy as two words escape from his mouth, barely a whisper:

“I’m... sorry...”

An apology to whom, no one knows, but with those last words his body goes completely still, the pool of blood still expanding beneath him, and his eyes unseeingly staring just to the left of The King.

No one in the room can tear their eyes from Merlin’s pale corpse, face now a mess of tears and blood.

The Druid looks down at him with an odd mix of contempt, and genuine sorrow. He had obviously waited long enough that his resentment of Arthur had bled into his feelings for his so-called saviour, but still grieved for what could have been.

The Knights look at him in horror, all understanding that they had never been lucky, they had just had Merlin. He had never asked for thanks, or recognition, or reward. He had kept them all safe, at great expense to himself, and now he was dead.

Lancelot seems the... calmest, though he still cries like the rest of them. He had, in theory, known of the pain Merlin was in, but had he known it was plaguing him to this extent... well perhaps he wouldn’t have been so loyal to Arthur.

Arthur himself stares at Merlin with nothing but terror and agonising grief. He had done this. If he had just let Merlin explain, if he had just given him five minutes, instead of bruises and nightmares and fear, then he would still be alive.

If he hadn’t been so selfish and cruel, perhaps hundreds of people, just like Merlin, just as scared and innocent as Merlin, would also be alive.

Merlin had spent his entire time in Camelot trying to convince Arthur that he wasn’t his father... and Arthur had gone and proven him wrong at every turn. And even then Merlin still had faith, still called him a good man.

The silencing spell still has hold over the knights, so they cry and scream and thrash soundlessly as the Druid finally rips his gaze from the body at his feet.

He steps carefully around Merlin to stand in front of Arthur. The sorrow clears from his face, leaving only contempt and rage left to be directed at the man in front of him. Arthur does not look up, keeping his tear stained face focused on the floor, even as the Druid begins to speak:

“You see what you have done, Arthur Pendragon? You think magic is the thing that corrupts, but it is not. It is you. Emrys was meant to be a saviour, a God, a guiding light to help our people to safety, but you tainted him, reduced him to nothing more than a sad, scared boy, and then reduced him further, to a corpse. My hands are clean of blood Pendragon, but yours?? Oh, yours are drenched in it.”

Arthur slowly lifts his distraught gaze to the Druid, but quickly widens his eyes at what he sees.

Merlin stands behind the Druid, eyes glowing golden, tears once more streaming down his face as he grips the handle of the dagger, still buried in his chest.

The bloodstains grow even larger as he grimaces slightly and pulls it free, before wordlessly forcing it through the Druid’s back.

The man lets out a sudden gasp, and looks down to see just the tip of the blade poking out where his heart should be. He gargles something, words that no one can make out, before Merlin pulls the dagger out again, and his body crumples to the floor.

The knights and Arthur can feel the silencing spell release them, but none of them make even a noise as they stare in shock at their tormented, but very much alive, friend.

Merlin drops the dagger from his hand and it lands with a splash in the mixing puddles of blood, before he himself falls harshly to his knees.

The others finally break out of their stupor, once again pulling towards their friend. Their cries and shouts of his name can be heard by everyone but him as he leans forward, placing his forehead against that of the lifeless Druid.

His cries grow erratic again as he whispers apology after apology, and every heart breaks even more at the sight before them.

They know why he apologises, they know why he grieves, even over a man who had tried to... had succeeded in killing him. The death of yet another of his own kind who was sick of waiting, who was rightfully angry, was not something to be celebrated.

They had thought, at the beginning of this, that they would get through whatever the Druid threw at them, they always did. But this, the brokenness of one of their dearest friends, was not something that looks fixable.

Merlin finally sits up again and he sobs louder, still deaf and blind to those around him. Lancelot has just enough time to yell at the others to cover their eyes, as a gut-wrenching scream escapes the Warlock.

They’re almost blinded, even with their eyes tightly shut and their arms thrown up. The scream is the loudest, and most anguished they’ve ever heard, and the force in which Merlin releases his magic completely eviscerates the hut they had been chained in.

Each of them is thrown violently backwards, and their chains crumble to the floor with the rest of the building as they try to find purchase on the ground. None of them are hurt too badly, and they’re grateful for the fact that even in this state, Merlin’s magic seems incapable of really causing them any damage.

The scream ends, and the knights look up to see Merlin sat in the middle of the crater he had created, staring blankly into the middle distance. Tears still stream down his face, but he doesn’t move and he makes no sound, just kneels there with his blood soaked hands on his lap, palms towards the sky.

It takes a few moments for the knights to regain their senses, but once they do, all hell breaks loose.

Gwaine immediately gets to his feet and makes a rush towards Arthur, fully intending on throttling him, screaming obscenities as he went, but Percival and Elyan jump forward, grabbing an arm each and dragging him away as he curses the King and the Sky and the Gods.

As much as Percival and Elyan were not impartial to killing Arthur right now, Merlin was the priority, and as much as he may have deserved it, Merlin would never forgive them if they hurt the King.

Arthur seems to be unaware of the attempt on his life made by one of his most trusted knights, and just stares blankly at an equally blank Merlin.

Lancelot and Leon make a bee-line for the Warlock, but stop just short of touching him, not knowing how he would react.

Leon nods gently at Lancelot, clearly having picked up that this knight had already known at least part of the story. Lancelot returns his nod, before moving forward slowly. The body of the Druid lays untouched at Merlin’s knees, and the knight removes his cloak, laying it over him, before reaching a slow hand towards Merlin’s shoulder.

He finally makes contact after a little hesitation, whispering his name as gently and as comfortingly as he is able with tears still leaking from his eyes.

Merlin doesn’t react at all to Lancelot’s touch, not even when he takes his bloody hand, or shakes his shoulder slightly; just sits and stares and cries.

Leon gulps before reaching forward himself. He grabs the dagger from besides Merlin and tosses it behind him (he didn’t like to think about that action too much. He has no idea what state his friend is in right now, best to not have any sharp instruments within his reach when he came to.) before lifting his hand to wipe away the man’s tears.

Arthur stares upon all of this in horror from his position sprawled on the floor a few metres away.

Elyan and Percival have just about managed to calm Gwaine, and they begin making their way to Leon, Lancelot, and Merlin, but before they get even halfway there, Arthur finally speaks.

His voice breaks, and is barely audible, but everyone hears him nonetheless as he murmurs:

“I did this...”

Gwaine makes another run at him, regaining his anger, and Percival and Elyan just about manage to grab him before he commits regicide.

Lancelot and Leon look up at him sharply, but when Lancelot lowers his gaze and continues to try and rouse Merlin, Leon holds the King’s gaze, and says strongly:

“Yes. Yes you did, My Lord.”

Arthur’s face crumbles even more, and Leon glares at him with venom for a few more seconds, before giving Lancelot a soft pat on the back, and walking towards the other three.

He mumbles a few harsh things that only Gwaine can hear, who responds at first with more anger, but then resignation. The First Knight gives the man a pat on the back and nods knowingly at Elyan and Percival. No one, not even Gwaine, pretends to miss the meaning of “be ready to catch him again” in the gesture.

Arthur stays in his position on the floor as the four of them walk softly towards Merlin and Lancelot, but before they get there, everyone’s gazes are drawn to the shadow in the sky, getting closer and closer.

It moves with an alarming place, and their anger at Arthur is momentarily forgotten as he scrambles up and screams:

“DRAGON!!”

Gwaine, Elyan, Percival and Arthur rush forward to stand between the beast and the other three. They have no armour or weapons, but like hell were they just going to let it get to them.

Lancelot looks up to see the white, horse sized beast land heavily in front of The King, his eyes widen and he jumps up, rushing forward to push between the others.

Leon moves to hold a still unresponsive Merlin behind his back protectively, but frowns in confusion when Lancelot yells at Arthur (who had been about to run at the beast):

“NO! No don’t hurt her! She’s Merlin’s, don’t hurt her!”

Everyone looks at him in confusion and fear as he slowly approaches the Dragon, she had been growling lowly at first, but seemed to perk up when she saw Lancelot.

Lancelot gives her a small smile, and holds his hand out, allowing her to come to him, before quietly saying:

“I’ve never been more glad to see you, Aithusa. Merlin is over here.”

He turns back towards the others, and calmly, but forcefully says:

“Move. She needs to see him.”

Gwaine nods after a moment, trusting Lancelot, and moves out of the way. Arthur goes to argue, but Elyan and Percival roughly shove him to the side, clearing a path to Merlin and Leon for Lancelot and the new, slightly terrifying, arrival.

Leon looks up fearfully, still in front of Merlin protectively. He stares at the Dragon for a few moments, breathing deeply, before looking up at Lancelot. Lancelot gives him a weak smile, and a nod before saying quietly:

“He’s a Dragon-Lord. She can help him, it’s ok.”

Leon gulps, before nodding, and stepping out of the way. He doesn’t move too far, obviously still affected by his last encounter with a Dragon, and watches with unconcealed suspicion as Aithusa prances around Lancelot at his nod.

The others crowd closer as well, looking on in confusion, awe, suspicion, as Aithusa slowly approaches Merlin.

She lays down at his side, gently pressing her head onto Merlin’s hands, still in his lap. Her mouth opens and Leon gasps as she blows a gentle mist up into his face. Merlin’s back straightens and the knights can see his eyes come back into focus as he blinks.

They all stare with bated breath as he gulps, and begins to notice his surroundings; looking in fear at the crater around him.

Merlin is broken from his growing panic as Aithusa chirps softly from his lap, and his head whips down, only now noticing her.

The knights let out a collective breath as he smiles, very slightly and very briefly, but still; after what they had just seen him go through they would take anything. He leans his head down, and wraps his arms around the creature. She chirps once again, louder this time, as she uses her tail to push away the forgotten Druid’s corpse.

She curls her body around Merlin protectively, and he collapses even further into the semi-embrace she’s giving him. The knights smile slightly, relieved that Merlin seems responsive, and safe, before they take slow steps towards the two of them.

She whips her head up quickly and growls at them, digging her front claws into the ground. They take in sudden breaths and stop moving, wary, but she stops growling when she looks to Lancelot.

The others stare on in shock and confusion as she tilts her head slightly, and Lancelot nods as he quietly says:

“They’re friends, it’s ok.”

The creature seems to nod, and the others follow behind Lancelot as he begins moving towards Merlin again.

He crouches down, and gives Aithusa a well-received scratch on the chin, before he gently places a hand between Merlin’s shoulder-blades.

Percival, Elyan, Gwaine, and finally Leon follow suit, sitting carefully next to the Dragon, but unlike Lancelot, they don’t touch her, or Merlin. She may seem safe and loving and on their side, but she was still a Dragon.

Arthur moves a little slower, not sure if he’s welcome (he’s not) but when he gets within five feet of the group huddled on the floor, Aithusa lifts her head and growls again.

Elyan and Percival are shocked at the sudden movement, but Gwaine smirks, and Leon nods his head approvingly (though he’s still understandably... nervous). Lancelot looks back at a shocked and still tear-stricken Arthur, and speaks. His voice is quiet, but his tone is vicious:

“They have a mental link; she sees what he sees. It might be best, Your Majesty, for you to stay away.”

He doesn’t bother to watch Arthur’s reaction; he turns back and begins carding a soft hand through Merlin’s hair. He flinches only slightly before relaxing under the soft ministrations, and Aithusa gives Lancelot an affectionate lick on the arm.

The other knights do see the way that Arthur flinches, before he gives a shaky nod and takes a few steps back. He goes to say something, but the tears in his eyes overflow, and he turns to walk away.

Gwaine’s smirk grows slightly before he drops it entirely and turns back to the others, no longer caring what Arthur got up to. He is the first of the knights, other than Lancelot, to be brave enough to reach a hand forward and stroke Aithusa gently.

Elyan and Percival hesitatingly follow his lead, and Aithusa chirps happily at the attention. Leon’s gaze follows Arthur as he walks towards the horses.

They were far away, well out of the way of Merlin’s blast, but even with the distance Leon could see they were shaken. Thankfully they had been tied to the trees, otherwise he’s certain they would have bolted.

Leon finds it only slightly surprising that he feels no sympathy for the King. There’s only so much you can forgive a man for. When Arthur finally reaches the horses and begins untacking them, he looks away, back to Aithusa and Merlin.

Everyone can tell that Camelot’s First Knight is still rather shaken at the presence of the Dragon, but when Merlin looks up slightly to see him still sat there, unwilling to leave him, his heart swells a little.

Leon meets his gaze and gulps, but returns Merlin’s shaky smile.

The other knights smile as well, glad that Merlin was feeling at least a little better, and Percival speaks quietly, not wanting to spook him (or the Dragon):

“Hey, there’s our lucky charm.”

The other knights give him questioning looks but Merlin just chuckles slightly, before sitting up properly, and focusing his attention on running his fingers over Aithusa’s scales, picking out grass and mud.

Percival looks indignant before replying, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world:

“What? You honestly thought that tree branches only fell if there was a fight happening, and then only fell on the enemies?? The rock-falls? The fires even when it was pouring with rain?? The miraculous solutions to end-of-the-world type problems?? Come on, guys.”

The others look taken aback at that, but Lancelot just smiles knowingly. They all look to Merlin, who has managed to wipe the blood from his face with his sleeve, and he just shrugs slightly.

The rest of them, bar Leon, let out small huffs of laughter, and continue to stroke Aithusa, knowing that Merlin almost certainly isn’t ready for an actual conversation yet.

Merlin looks at Leon’s pale form assessingly, before a look of realisation crosses his face. The knight is tense, and staring at Aithusa’s sharp teeth with worry, but his gaze is quickly drawn to Merlin when he reaches a shaky hand towards him.

Merlin gives him an understanding smile, and crooks his fingers, encouraging the curly-haired knight to take his hand. Leon does so, and his breath hitches as Merlin lowers their intertwined hand to rest on the top of Aithusa’s head.

Leon lets out a slow breath as he feels Elyan’s supportive hand on his back, but relaxes fully when he sees the sparkle in Merlin’s eyes. Anything to make their Warlock happy in this moment. And forever, probably.

Gwaine looks at Leon out of the corner of his eye, and says lowly:

“I’m fairly certain I’m going to try and kill him if I look at him again, so what’s the King up to?”

Merlin tenses slightly, but Leon squeezes his hand and he relaxes again. Lancelot raises and eyebrow and before Leon can reply, he says:

“What, no princess?”

Gwaine narrows his eyes before gruffly saying:

“Princess was an affectionate nickname, and I’m not feeling all that affectionate towards him right now.”

The others nod knowingly, turning their attention back to Merlin and Aithusa. Leon leaves his hand in Merlin’s, but looks at Gwaine before saying lowly:

“He went to deal with the horses. Now we know we no longer need a quick get-away, they need untacking and feeding and watering. They were pretty spooked by... they were pretty spooked.”

Leon looks back at Merlin when his hand gets squeezed, to see him frowning slightly. Leon catches his eye and gives him a small smile, but Merlin just gets teary-eyed again, before sniffing and muttering:

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to I just... I’m sorry.”

Only a single tear has time to fall before Lancelot has his hand on Merlin’s shoulder again (comfortingly), and Elyan has his hand on Gwaine’s shoulder (forcefully). Leon shakes his head softly, and responds in a gentle voice:

“You don’t have anything to apologise for Merlin, we are the ones who should be sorry, for not being able to protect you.”

Merlin’s frown deepens, and he goes to retort, but Gwaine beats him to it, obviously trying to keep the anger out of his voice:

“From the so-called Druid and from him. We should have done better.”

Leon can feel Merlin’s hand begin to shake, so he squeezes it once more as Merlin shakes his head and speaks, his voice sounding stronger already:

“It’s not his fault. He was just shaken and scared and I should have-”

Gwaine clenches his jaw, struggling to keep control of his rage, but Elyan grips his shoulder tighter in warning, and replies in his stead, interrupting Merlin:

“There’s no excuse Merlin. All of us have been attacked by magic, but equally, all of us have been attacked by swords. I mean look at Leon, giving Dragons a second chance after what happened. I would perhaps understand brief anger, but there is no way to justify laying his hands on you in such a way that leaves bruises, and certainly no justification for putting a blade to your throat.”

Merlin frowns, and looks like he wants to argue, but once again, a knight beats him to it, Lancelot this time:

“No, Merls. We know how much he means to you. But what he did was wrong, there’s no rationalisation. We all know that you’ve already forgiven him, and that’s why we can’t yet. Probably not for a while.”

Merlin sighs, looking pained, and Leon uses his other hand to tilt his chin up:

“Not to say that we won’t ever forgive him. But someone has to be angry at him for what he’s done, and Lord knows you aren’t gonna do it. Consider us your stand-ins.”

Merlin smiles slightly, and Leon considers that a win, returning the smile and nodding slightly to himself, before looking back down at the Dragon, now seemingly asleep, and purring, on Merlin’s lap.

Elyan releases the death grip on Gwaine’s shoulder, when the now much calmer knight, with a smile on his face, says:

“So... you have a Dragon??”

Merlin chuckles fondly, before looking to him and saying quietly:

“Yeah. Her name is Aithusa. I’m surprised she came alone, Kilgharrah usually doesn’t like it when she runs off.”

Lancelot winces slightly as the other knights look shocked, before Percival says:

“Kil-what-now? There’s another one??”

Merlin grimaces slightly, before looking to Leon worriedly and tightening the grip on his hand:

“Uhh... yeah. Kilgharrah is the name of the Dragon that... attacked Camelot a few years ago.-”

Leon straightens his back and gulps, but doesn’t remove his hand from Merlin’s, nodding at him to continue:

“-I didn’t have control over him until right at the end. I told him to leave and never come back, unless I called him-”

Lancelot makes a noise of realisation as he nods, and interrupts Merlin:

“That’s probably why Aithusa came alone. You didn’t call for her, and technically we’re still within Camelot’s borders. He couldn’t come even if he wanted to. Poor sod is probably clomping around at the edge of the border freaking out.”

Merlin looks to Lancelot and nods, satisfied to feel Leon relax a bit, before looking back to the First Knight apologetically:

“-He does feel really bad at that. He just wanted to get back at Uther for the whole... genocide thing I guess. But that’s no excuse. I just didn’t want to be the one to be responsible for killing the last Dragon, even if Kilgharrah personally might’ve deserved it at the time. That was all before Aithusa came along.”

Everyone nods in understanding, before focussing their attention back on Aithusa. She really was like a giant puppy, even if they had to be wary to avoid her claws as she twitched in her sleep.

Merlin sighs, looking forlorn once again as he realises how exhausted he is, knowing that they’re going to have to get up and make camp at some point.

He can cope with an awkward, tense silence between him and Arthur easily enough, that’s what the last few weeks had consisted of. But an awkward and tense silence between everyone? Elyan and Percival inwardly fuming? Gwaine outwardly fuming? Leon and Lancelot being all protective? He’s not sure he can deal with that.

At Merlin’s sigh, Lancelot tilts his head to catch his eye. His brow creases as he says softly:

“What is it, Merls?”

Merlin looks up, still squeezing Leon’s hand, before quietly replying:

“Nothing, I’m just tired. We have to re-make camp at some point and I’m not sure if I can deal with everyone being so...”

He waves his free hand around loosely, and Lancelot huffs out a laugh, before kicking Gwaine, getting everyone’s attention:

“We have to go make camp. But Merlin is exhausted, and doesn’t want to deal with any of this shit tonight, so we’re all going to have to play nice for the time being.”

Gwaine growls, and quickly retorts:

“Like hell am I gonna treat him with-”

Lancelot kicks him again, harder this time, and Elyan replaces the harsh hand on his shoulder before forcefully saying:

“Right now, it doesn’t matter what Arthur deserves. Merlin needs peace and quiet, and that’s what we’re going to give him.”

Gwaine grumbles, but begrudgingly nods, and Merlin gives him a grateful smile.

The knights all stand up, and Merlin shakes Aithusa awake, giving a small chuckle when she stretches like a cat.

Once she takes her weight off of his lap, Merlin follows the knights to stand, almost falling over at the weakness in his legs. Leon and Lancelot catch an arm each, steadying him as he shuts his eyes tightly, willing the dizziness away.

He feels a hand wipe the hair from his forehead, and opens his eyes slowly to see Percival checking him over with an assessing gaze:

“I’m fine, just tired, a little dizzy.”

Lancelot nods in understanding, humming slightly:

“Hmm. I’m not surprised, you haven’t done anything this big in a while, and I doubt you’ve slept well in the last few weeks.”

Merlin gives him a sheepish look as he shakes his head, but it’s Elyan’s questioning gaze that Lancelot responds to:

“I found out by accident when I first met him. Our Warlock isn’t very good at keeping secrets.”

He says it with a small smirk as he looks back down to Merlin, who’s looking indignant:

“Hey! I managed to keep everyone else from finding out.”

Gwaine looks guilty as he raises his arm quietly:

“Actually uh... I knew. I mean not about the whole Emrys, prophecy thing. But the magic stuff, yeah.”

Merlin looks at him, shocked. The other knights share his expression for just a moment before they laugh at the look on Merlin’s face:

“How?!”

Gwaine puts his arm down and laughs again:

“Mate... we met in the middle of a tavern fight, in which shit started literally flying about the moment you joined in.-”

He shrugged, before casually continuing:

“-I figured you would tell me when you wanted to. Until then, it wasn’t my secret to know. You also have me to thank for backing you up every time The Prick asked if I saw you at the tavern.”

Merlin laughed and nodded his thanks, before looking over to where said Prick was setting up camp, a few metres beyond the edge of the crater.

His face fell slightly and the others follow his gaze, tensing slightly in anger when they saw what he was looking at. Merlin takes his arms from Leon and Lancelot, finally feeling steady on his feet, before quietly saying:

“Come on, we might as well get this over with. I’m starving, and tired, and Aithusa will get bored if we don’t start entertaining her.”

Everyone turns around to see Aithusa (now she was sure that her Lord was ok), prancing about in the crater; chasing birds and digging holes.

Merlin raises an eyebrow and everyone else chuckles slightly. Gwaine pushes Lancelot out of the way and takes Merlin’s hand, beginning to walk determinedly towards camp. Everyone catches up quickly, Leon taking Merlin’s other hand when the man had reached out to grab his cape.

Gwaine looks down at Merlin, seeing how nervous he is, and says:

“So. How long until she’s big enough to be ridden? I want you to take me flying, Merlin.”

Merlin chuckles, and looks back to see Aithusa happily trailing them:

“Not for a while. Dragons grow slow, so it’ll be another few years at least. Plus she’s got some issues with bone growth that we’re still trying to fix. She’ll be fine in the long run, but her development is taking a lot longer than normal. She still can’t speak.”

Everyone stops at that, and Merlin’s arms get yanked back when he continued walking. He turns to see Leon giving him an incredulous look:

“Dragons can speak?!”

Merlin tilts his head in confusion, before laughing and tugging them forwards again:

“Yeah. I forget that Uther basically erased all knowledge on Dragons, but they’re just as intelligent as we are. Kilgharrah would like to think that they’re more intelligent, but he’s always been a cryptic, egotistical bastard.-”

The others follow his pace and nod, but the mood darkens as they almost reach the camp. Merlin continues faintly, but quickly:

“I’ll tell you everything I know when... when we get back.”

Leon squeezes his hand, knowing that he was about to say “if”, assuring him that “when” is the right word.

Arthur looks up at the group and gulps from his place next to the fire. He straightens up, the anxiety showing clearly on his face, but before anyone can say anything, Aithusa jumps in between him.

He falls back at the sudden movement and she begins to growl; he widens his eyes as she stalks slowly towards him.

Gwaine smirks again, the others managing to keep their faces blank, but Merlin looks shocked, before he jumps forward and puts a hand on the Dragon’s back:

“Aithusa no. He’s a... friend. It’s ok, he’s-”

Arthur jumps to his feet and interrupts him:

“No, no it’s fine. I’ll... go... sit over there.”

He gestures behind him, and walks quickly away from the fire, sitting just within the fire’s light, the evening dimming around them.

Aithusa tilts her head, snaps her jaws at him once more before completely changing disposition. She begins bouncing around the fire, chirping happily and playfully trying to catch floating embers in her claws.

Merlin smiles slightly and the other knights (bar Gwaine, who is glaring very pointedly at Arthur) chuckle at her antics, before they all sit in a semi circle on the opposite side of the fire to Arthur, Merlin in the middle.

The Warlock is once again wedged protectively between Leon and Gwaine, and he fiddles softly with Leon’s cape in his lap as he stares fondly at Aithusa.

Elyan moves to the packs, unloading food and water and cooking pots. Merlin gets up to help, but Gwaine pulls him back down by the hand and holds on firmly as he says:

“You’ve been through enough. We can put up with Elyan’s shitty cooking for a couple nights.”

Merlin tries to pull away with a “But I can-” but Leon grabs his other hand, holding him down and interrupting:

“Absolutely not. You said yourself that you’re tired. If Elyan needs help, he can ask one of us.”

Merlin huffs sulkily and Leon laughs, stroking the back of his hand protectively.

Leon had known Merlin just as long as Arthur had, and whilst they had virtually nothing to do with each other the first few years, they were still friendly acquaintances, even then. Leon knew full well that it was Merlin who would have a hot meal left in his room after a late patrol, and Merlin always appreciated how Leon kept as many weapons in the armoury in as good nick as possible, so Merlin didn’t have to deal with it.

Besides, even before they knew each other’s names, Leon always found Merlin’s reactions to Arthur’s stupidity funny. He could hardly say it out loud, being the Perfect Knight and all, but he always thought it was a good thing that Arthur had someone at his side keeping him humble, and calling him out in ways no one else would.

Of course they had gotten much closer over the years, as did all of the knights, thanks to Merlin. Currently, Leon was feeling just a tinge of regret at being so grateful for Merlin’s presence at Arthur’s side; he had never really thought about how difficult being that man’s babysitter would be, especially now he knew Merlin had magic. And some sort of destiny.

Time passes fairly quickly whilst Elyan cooks, the others taking to heart what Lancelot had said and trying to keep a quiet, but easy conversation going.

They ask Merlin various questions about Aithusa, Kilgharrah, the Druids, the weird name that he had been called. He answered them all easily enough, but they notice the way he hesitates when they ask about his magic specifically or the prophecies, so they steer clear of those topics.

They’ll definitely want to know the whole story eventually, and they’re practically buzzing with desperation to ask Merlin to show them something magical, but they know that now is not the time.

Dinner is finally served, and despite Gwaine’s statement, it wasn’t actually that bad. Mainly because every time Elyan went to add something to the pot, he would look back desperately at Merlin, and took into account the shakes and nods of his head with a grateful smile.

He did struggle to cover the scowl on his face when he delivered Arthur’s bowl to him, replying to The King’s quiet “thank you, Elyan” with an even quieter “don’t mention it” .

Dinner was eaten quickly and in silence. They hadn’t been unconscious for long, and hour or two at most, but they had all worked up an understandable appetite, Merlin especially. He would never ask for seconds, but knowing that, Elyan gave him an extra big serving without a word.

They entertained themselves after dinner by throwing the last scraps of meat to Aithusa, watching her jump and flip and fly about the camp. Merlin had objected at first, but gave in when he saw the small grin on Leon’s face, and heard the way the others were laughing. The City was only a few days ride away, they could always hunt on the way back.

It didn’t take long for her to tire out and curl up at Merlin’s feet to sleep. Like Merlin had mentioned, Aithusa was developing slowly, and she normally couldn’t fly very far; it must’ve taken a huge amount of energy and effort for her to get all the way here. But like the Knights, she was very protective, and there was no way she could not check on her Lord, after she and Kilgharrah had felt the anguish he was in.

As Kilgharrah once again crosses Merlin’s mind, he sighs, and makes mental note to call him in the morning, when he had more energy.

Merlin is distracted from his thoughts when the camp goes silent all of a sudden, and Gwaine reaches over to squeeze his hand. He looks up in worry, to see that Arthur had stood, and walked a little closer, though he made sure to stay the other side of the fire.

Merlin tenses slightly. He tries not to let it show, but he can knows that he failed when he feels Leon’s hand firmly in the middle of his back. Hidden from the others, but a silent reassurance.

Arthur gulps, obviously nervous, but he meets Merlin’s gaze, flinching at the slight fear in his eyes:

“Merlin, I know nothing I say will-”

He’s interrupted by Gwaine growling and standing suddenly, stepping in front of Merlin protectively, but it’s Lancelot’s harsh words that cut him off fully:

“Not tonight, Arthur. We’re all tired and angry so just... not tonight.”

Arthur clenches his jaw, and blinks away tears before nodding:

“Yes, I... I understand.”

With that, he sniffles slightly before taking a step back. He looks to the floor as he mumbles something about checking the perimeter, before slowly walking away from the camp, into the night.

Merlin lets out a breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding, and relaxes slightly as Leon runs his hand over his back. Gwaine stares after Arthur for a few moments, deliberating on whether or not to follow him (and presumably, kick his ass). Merlin reaching up to take his hand and pull him back down makes his mind up, and he settles back into his seat, Merlin’s small hand clasped between his two larger ones.

Percival speaking up breaks the tense silence:

“It’s late and Lance is right, we’re all tired. If we want to make quick work of the journey home, and have time to hunt, then we should get some sleep.”

Murmurs of agreement float up around the group, and Gwaine, voice still tense and angry, says:

“I’ll take first-”

But he’s quickly interrupted by Elyan, softly laughing:

“Absolutely not, Gwaine. If you’re left alone we’ll all wake to find the King dead in the morning.”

Gwaine raises a challenging eyebrow, not denying anything, and Elyan huffs, Percival muttering:

“Fine. But I’m taking it with you so you don’t get a chance to smother him.”

Gwaine gives a sarcastic looking smile, before ruffling Merlin’s hair fondly and walking towards the fire. He adds another log, grabs his bedroll, and settles down against a tree, Percival sitting at his side.

Everyone else gathers their rolls, and whilst normally they spread out, they all seem rather desperate to stay as close to Merlin as possible.

Normally he would complain, they all snore, and Merlin is definitely expecting nightmares tonight, but he can’t find it in himself to send them away, and to be perfectly honest, he's certain that they would just move back the moment he closed his eyes anyway.

The Warlock finds himself tucked under Lancelot’s arm, with Leon a respectful distance away on his other side, though still within arm’s reach. Elyan settles somewhere below his feet, and for the first time in weeks, Merlin finds himself fully relaxed.

Aithusa sleepily moves from her spot by Merlin’s feet, to curl up with Gwaine and Percival, and Merlin smiles at the thought that she not only trusts his friends in general, but trusts them enough to leave Merlin in their care. Dragons are protective and possessive creatures, and that trust speaks volumes.

Merlin is still a little miserable, and he almost resents himself for still being scared of Arthur despite his obvious regret, but... with all that happened... well. You can’t really blame him.

He’s got a gaggle of very protective knights around him, one of which he can vaguely hear trying to persuade another to commit regicide when no one was looking.

He has time to huff out a small laugh as Lancelot pulls him closer, before he drifts off; much quicker than he thought he would. He was comforted by the warmth behind him, the presence at his feet, the guardians watching over him, and the hand reaching towards him in the dark, just about close enough to lay fingers over Merlin’s heartbeat.

No nightmares plague him that night, and he doesn’t even wake to the warning growls sent Arthur’s way when he eventually returned to camp.

The next few days, hell, the next few months would probably be difficult, but he finds himself not as anxious now he knows he won’t have to face it alone.

THE END

I don’t think I’ll write a part two to this, but if someone wants to extend it, feel free, same as normal: credit and tag me :)

I��ve had the whole speech written out in full in my phone notes for like two months, but only recently got round to actually turning it into anything. I hope ya’ll enjoyed it!! I wanted to write something hella angsty so....

I’m fairly certain whatever I write next will be the dead opposite of this (FLUFF fluff) but honestly who knows.

Let me know if there’s anything specific you want my thoughts on :)

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thefanficmonster · 4 years ago

Text

Partner

Ethan Winters (Resident Evil Biohazard) x Reader (Gender Neutral)

Warnings: Spoilers for Resident Evil 8:Village, Swearing, Mentions of injury

Genre: Angsty Fluff, Comfort

Summary: Following the final battle in the Dimitrescu Castle, Ethan is surprised to stumble upon a person who witnessed the whole debacle, offering him a safe place to patch up his wounds and rest for a little while.

Requested by Anon. Hi dear! Thank you so much for your request! So sorry you’ve had to wait so long but here it finally is! Hope you come across it and enjoy reading it! Love, Vy ❤

“That was...something else.“ Ethan Winters mutters to himself as he limps his way out of the Dimitrescu Castle which is now vacant in terms of residence - his doing. He killed Alcina Dimitrescu and her daughters, all arguably in self defense and with little guilt to follow. However, plenty of trauma’s definitely attached to him following the horrific events he had to go through and the things he had to see between the walls of those luxurious rooms hiding dark secrets of the vampires who took pleasure in torturing people, and wreaking havoc over the villagers who feared them.

“At least they won’t hurt anyone any longer.“ He tells himself, giving the monster of a structure one final look before he continues back towards the center of the village where he’s gonna rethink what he’s got to do next, gather his bearings, take a breath and keep going. He has no other option but to keep going, he won’t allow himself to quit no matter what danger he faces. In his mind, he’s convinced himself that he’s already seen the worst, it’s easier on him that way, it suppresses the fear he’d feel otherwise. The last thing he wants is to think what’s in store for him ahead, he’d rather focus on what’s up to him to do next.

“And we can’t thank you enough.“

The sudden presence of an unfamiliar voice startles him, causing him to whip out his gun and point it in the direction it came from. However, he quickly finds his deadly tight grip loosening ever so slightly because he realizes he’s pointing the barrel at a very human-looking and seemingly harmless person.

“Who are you? Who’s ‘we’?“ Ethan still refuses to let his guard down though, just cause it may not be a life or death situation, doesn’t mean this person won’t bring him trouble and Lord knows that’s the last thing he needs right now.

On instinct, the person takes a step back, “I speak on the behalf of all the remaining villagers. I mean, it was only a matter of time before we too became victims in the Dimitrescu Castle basement. I was next, actually, but the commotion you created allowed for me to escape. I owe you my life, foreigner.“ The speak hurriedly and in a hushed tone, as if the fear of their torturers overhearing them still lives within them despite the monsters being deceased.

“Glad I could help you.“ He nods curtly, remaining at the distance of seven feet between them, “My name’s Ethan Winters by the way.“

They give him the tiniest of smiles, “Y/N L/N, pleased to meet you.” Their gaze gives him a quick onceover, assessing the damage the horrors of the castle have inflicted on him. Their eyes widen in shock at the many bleeding wounds all over his body but what appears to rattle them most is the severe injury that’s causing his limp as well as the missing finger - a poorly wrapped would that has surprisingly not started getting infected yet. “Look, I know you don’t trust me, but I don’t trust you to take care of yourself either. I live in that windmill over there in the outskirts, come with me, I’ll help you with...well, with all that. You seem rather hopeless at medical care.”

While he could refuse their offer, he wouldn’t be able to deny the fact that they’re right - he knows the basics of first aid, but his injuries are far too gone for simple first aid, especially when taken into account that he doesn’t even have any supplies. How he’s not died from blood loss is a surprise to him as much as it is to them.

“What’s my guarantee you won’t turn on me?“ He finally asks after a decent amount of time contemplating it.

They shrug, “You have none. But, you have the guarantee that if I turn on you, you’ll be the one coming out of that altercation alive.” Their gaze sizes up the guns he’s got on him, emphasizing their point.

Suddenly, Ethan feels sorta ridiculous - after all, guns or no guns, he could probably take on them easily with just his knife. Regardless, no one can blame him for being cautious. “Fine.“ He mutters, “But please don’t turn on me, I’ve already had one hell of a day.“

Y/N nods, motioning for him to follow them, “I promise I won’t.”

* * *

“Wow, what a back-stabber! Some friends you have, Winters.“ Y/N comments as they set down a cup of tea on the small wooden table in front of the freshly patched up Ethan.

Turns out, he made the right move by trusting them - they used to be the village’s main nurse until it all went to hell and they went to hide in the shadows of their windmill where they, as evidenced, still are today. That being said, not only did they have all the necessary equipment to fix him up, but they also had the skills and knowledge needed to use that equipment.

“There are those friends who borrow money from you and never pay you back and there are those who shoot your wife randomly while you two are trying to have dinner. Two types of friends out there really.“ He sighs, his tired, a thousand yard stare following the path of the steam levitating from the cup that’s been placed in front of him. “I have no time to dwell on that right now though. My daughter is in grave danger and I have no idea where I should even start looking for her.“

Y/N sits down on a chair opposite his, “Well, you’ve already defeated one of the village Lords looking for Rose, process of elimination should reveal where she is - wherever she is, it has to be one of the Lords’ residence. Mother Miranda trusted Lady Dimitrescu most so it’s a wonder why she wasn’t there, but then again, Heisenberg’s factory is damn near impenetrable, one cannot enter unless he wants them to so she could have entrusted her precious cargo to him.”

“How do I get to that fucker?“ Ethan tightens his hand into a fist, squeezing so tightly his knuckles turn white. There’s so much within him, so much that’s happened to him, so much in such a short amount of time and he’s had no time to deal with any of it. He’s a volcano waiting to erupt, but he has to do so at the right time - in front of the right danger to show he’s not hopeless or weak as his opponent may think. “Where do I find him?“

“He’s in the outskirts too just on the other side of the village.“ They sigh, regretting every word they are saying since they know they are just feeding him information on how to get himself in the worst kind of danger he’s probably ever been in. “That key you have, it’s not complete to access his quarters yet. By the looks of it...“ they observe the key Ethan has placed on the table, “You can only get to Lord Donna Beneviento’s estate, and I wouldn’t suggest heading there before you heal at least a bit more. Her and her dolls are a real nightmare. Of course, I haven’t experienced it for myself, but the stories are enough to get an idea.“

“So you’re telling me I have to waste my time with the little fish before I can finally get to Rose? You know how long that’ll take? You know how long she’ll have to be at the mercy of a fucking lunatic until I can finally save her?!“ Ethan snaps, banging his fist against the table, bad idea considering his hand’s been just patched up. The impact sends a jolt of pain up his arm that makes him hiss.

“I get it, I understand, Ethan. But you are a lot less likely to get to your daughter if you’re dead, you know.“ Y/N cautiously explains, their eyes narrowing a bit as they wait for the pearl white bandages to soak crimson, sighing in relief when they don’t. “Speaking of how likely you may or may not be to get to her on time, I’d also have to mention your odds would be significantly higher if you were to receive help from someone else. You’d need someone to have your back throughout all the shit you’re about to go through, especially Heisenberg’s factory where two eyes are not enough to track each and every threat that might pounce at you.“

Calmer now, Ethan gives them a puzzled look, “What are you suggesting?“

“I’m suggesting - well, I’m offering you my partnership.“ They explain, watching his expression change to one of knowing and understanding. “Of course, you’d have to give up one of those guns and hand it down to me, but I think that’s a small price to pay in exchange for an extra pair of eyes and limbs to guard and help you.“

Ethan’s first instinct is to decline. He can’t afford to see another person dying around him or because of him, he wouldn’t be able to stand it. But then again, just like he had no guarantee they wouldn’t turn on him, he has none that they’ll die. Of course, he’ll do everything in his power to keep them and himself alive and they don’t seem like they are in it to half-ass it either. Quite the contrary, they seem perfectly determined and ready to face the same shit he’s about to.

“What do you get in return?“ He asks, his gaze suspiciously measuring each line on their face to gauge their true intentions. He’s a complete stranger to them, they’d have no reason to be this selfless for him, it’s obvious they are aiming at something bigger.

Y/N scoffs, leaning back in their chair with a small bitter smile on their face, their gaze resting on the tabletop and avoiding his, “You really wanna know? I want my revenge - revenge for what they did to this village, to me, to so many people I cared about and to those I didn’t even know. But...” they trail off, pausing to sigh out a heavy sigh before continuing, “But I also wanna redeem myself. I knew I should’ve done all in my power to stop them when their havoc was still on the rise, I knew I should’ve done more, but I didn’t. And now I’ll die trying.”

“You won’t die.“ He says sharply, barely a second after the last word left their lips, “I won’t allow it.“ He adds, taking a bit of the edge off his voice.

Their eyes come up to meet his, searching for what he means, “Does that mean...“

“It sure does, partner.“ Within the blink of an eye, his pistol is on the table, fully loaded and free for their taking, “You just give a green light and we’re off.“

Y/N lets out a sound between a laugh and a gasp as their hands quickly wrap around the gun, looking at it in disbelief before whispering a quick ‘thank you’. Ethan allows them to marvel at it for a bit longer but they don’t wait another second. “Get your ass up, Winters. We have monsters to kill.”

He needn’t be told twice

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fandom-blackhole · 3 years ago

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hello my sweet, i hope you're having a lovely day 💕💕💕

for the requests could I ask for Post Sarlacc Boba and Scars please????

Of course you can! I think we all need a little soft Boba from time to time, so here we go....

96. Scars

Post Sarlacc!Boba Fett x Reader

Boba Fett had never even once taken his helmet or even his gloves off around you. Even after working as the palaces doctor for the past three years. At first you had assumed he was like silver mandalorian that came and went, not able to show his face to others, but after making an off hand comment about it while looking at Fennec's prosthetics you had learned that was very much not the case.

Now knowing the truth, you often found your eyes trailing after Boba’s figure wondering quietly to yourself what lay underneath the green painted armor. And you figured you never would so you allowed your mind to wander and try and imagine the man, nothing ever felt right though.

The curiosity only got worse, when the gifts and soft words started. Boba never came to you for medical help, but you often found him stopping by to ask if you needed anything or if anyone was causing you trouble. That slowly turned into Boba showing up to the med center you were provided, and silently helps you clean things up for the night and walk you to your room just a few halls away, never failing to leave you with out a quiet, and rumbling, "Goodnight little doctor."

And the gifts, oh the gifts. They started showing up randomly. Anything from expensive medical equipment you had mentioned offhandly saying it would make somethings easier, or little gifts of treats or clothes that were some how exactly your size. Each gift never came with a note or any indication of who it was from, but with the way Boba always sized you up in the clothes, and gave off an air of pride when you talked about the gifts, it wasn't too hard to figure out who the gifts were from.

You couldn't help but feel affection grow for the gruff man, and you knew you were a complete goner for the man who you had never seen when Fennec started teasing you for your lingering looks. And while you flushed under her good natured teasing, you never denied the feelings you had developed for the man.

Then late one evening Boba did not show up at the medical room, and you instantly felt yourself fall into worry. You knew he was in the palace, he always told you when he'd be leaving, and Boba had never once missed a night to walk you to your room. So after waiting roughly fifteen minutes after you had finished clean up, you went in search of him, which eventually lead you to the throne room. The room was still packed even for the late hour, so it was relatively easy to slip in and blend in with the other's crowding the room, and your heart panged in relief when you saw Boba up on the throne, looking fine and unharmed at first glance. You decided to stick around for a few minutes, something nagging at you not to leave yet.

Then you saw it, it was small and something the untrained eye wouldn't necessarily notice, but Boba had gently reached over and rubbed at his forearm and wrist like they were bothering him. Shortly after you watched his hand twitch, before rubbing against his knee, and you knew then that he was obviously hurting, and that was most likely the reason he had not come to visit you, always the worrier and never letting you worry about him. You clenched your jaw, trying to think of a way to get him to let you help, when you caught Fennec's gaze. You panicked at first, thinking she was going to blow your cover and whisper to Boba about your presence, but instead she motioned discreetly to Boba and gave you a look that said clear as day, he needs help but isn't going to ask for it.

It was then that you made your decision. Slowly you made your way to the cleared area in front of the throne, bowing your head and allowing the worry to show on your face in hopes to sell the act you were about to put on.

"My king, if I could have a second of you time?"

The response you recieved was only a grunt of acknowledgement, which you took as a yes. You lifted your head, and held your hands behind your back as you looked up at Boba’s helmeted face.

"My king, if you would, there is something down in the medical space that I think you should really take a look at. That is if you have the time of course."

You watched as Boba’s chest rose in a deep breath before he nodded, and said, "Lead the way doctor."

You shot him a smile of thanks, and bowed your head again, and taking note of how he clenched his hands as he stood up, and walked down to where you stood. Quickly, the two of you made your way through the halls, and your felt your heart pang as you saw Boba slip and show a slight limp a few times on your way there.

The second you walked into the room, you started switching on the lights again, as Boba followed you in, quietly asking, "What was it your needed to show me, little one?"

Instead, you turned to him with a stern look and pointed to a medical cot and said, "Sit."

You could feel the confusion radiating from Boba, but he did not fight you following what you told him to do.

"You are hurting," you said bluntly, knowing that with Boba it would be better just to get to the point, "Why didn't you come to me?"

You heard the man let out a heavy sigh, before he rubbed at his knee again and said, "They are nothing but old injuries, nothing much you can do."

You said his name softly, and walked forward until you were standing if front of him. "I can ease some of the pain, please let me help."

Boba did not say anything in agreement, but he also did not say anything to say no, so you turned and grabbed tub of ointment, it contained a small level of bacta that soaked into old scars and help ease pain, something you used yourself on occasion. Turning around, you smiled softly, and said, "Here, rub this on the spots that hurt, it'll help make the pain fade to the point of being more bearable."

Boba looked at you for a few minutes, before letting out a sigh, and saying, "Thank you, little one, but you are going to need alot more than that to help with my pain....."

You just looked at him confused, and worried. Was he in more pain than you thought? You started thinking through what ease you could do for him, when Boba had shocked you completely. Slowly he reached up, and took of the helmet, allowing you to take in his face for the very first time, and maker was he handsome, his brown eyes that seemed to look deep inside of your soul and full lips pulled tight in worry of your reaction, and the scars, oh the scars. They did not take away from Boba’s rough beauty, infact you found that to you they added to it, they showed what all he had fought through during his life and made you understand what was causing his pain.

"The scars, the ugly things, are everywhere, to cover them all you would need more of that stuff."

You pursed your lips, and thought for a second, taking in Boba’s face, and his guarded eyes which were waiting for your disgust or rejection. Instead, you took a step forward and opened the jar, scooping out some of the gel and smoothing it over the the biggest scar covering his forehead, and relishing in the soft sigh that came from Boba's lips. Then you spoke up and said, "Well, we can start with the ones that hurt the most for now, and stock up on this stuff......and my king, the scars are not ugly...they add character, they show how hard you have fought in this life, and I.....I think they add to how handsome you are."

Boba watched you for a few seconds before dipping his head and saying, "My knees and back are what hurt me most, and... today my right arm has been bothering me."

You nodded, and gave him a smile, happy that he was letting you help him, so you asked, "Do you want me to help you, or would you rather take the jar and do it yourself?"

Boba didn't really answer, well not verbally. Instead, he looked into your eyes, and took in your open and earnest face, before reaching down and starting to strip off his armor. Feeling heat raise in your face, you turned to give him a little bit of privacy, and only turned when he grunted that he was ready. When you turned around you knew he was going to be pretty much naked, but you were not prepared for much the sight of his body was going to affect you. Gulping, your tried to push the heat simmering in your belly aside, as you smiled and swallowed thickly.

Gently, you walked behind him, and started smearing the gel along his shoulders before moving downwards. The entire time, you could help but take advantage of feeling the rippling muscles moving and relaxing beneath your fingers, you took in how perfectly built and wide his shoulders and back were, cherishing each bump and scar that marred his tanned flesh. When you were done with that, you moved back around and kneeled in front of Boba, refusing to meet his eyes, as you worked on spreading the gel across his knees. When you were finished, you swallowed, and bit your lip as you grabbed onto Boba’s thick, muscled forearm and gently slid it towards you. Carefully you rubbed gentle circles along his forearm, before flipping it over and down the same with the other side. Then, with a last minute impulsive decision, you worked the gel along his fingers and palm, taking extra care at each knuckle, before switching to repeat the entire process with his other arm. When you were finished, you took a second to watch the way his fingers twitched, before you started to raise your gaze. "There is more in the jar, is there any-"

You were immediately cut off by Boba’s hand reaching under your chin and lifting your face to meet his own in a kiss that took your breath away. It wasn't hurried, nor was it passionate, but I was soft and slow, and held more feeling than you had been expecting from the crime lord. When he pulled away, your eyes stayed closed for a second, before sliding open and making contact with his own.

"Thank you, doc."

Send me Tropes

#boba fett x reader #boba x reader #fanfic tropes ask game

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shewrites02 · 4 years ago

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Wounded |Shikamaru x Reader|

Summary: The reader is wounded while on a mission, This leads to a rift in their relationship

Word count: 2.2k

A/N: I'm new to putting Naruto fanfics on my Account. If you have an suggestions or requests I'm open to all of them. Thank you so much.

fuck! This was your ass when you got home, and you knew it. You pleaded to Lady Tsunade to send you on this mission, short of getting on your hands and knees you said and did anything in hopes of persuading her to say yes. Eventually she caved. Knowing very few things got you this emotional she couldn't bring herself to say no even if she had felt you weren't ready. Plus she knew even if she declined you would devise a scheme to end up there anyway, and she wasn't wrong. You had a plan a, b, and c just incase she was adamant in her refusal.

What you didn't have a plan for was explaining to Shikamaru what you were about to do. Go on a S ranked mission despite just clearing your Chunin examinations. When word finally did get back to him, he was furious! that same morning he marched into the Hokage's office and demanded answers.

"I understand you are angry, but I will not explain myself to the likes of you! You want an explanation you speak to your girlfriend!" She snapped at him.

He knew better than to argue further, to expose himself and allow himself to be vulnerable and open with his concerns even just in front of the Hokage. He also knew she was right, it wasn't really her he was angry at.

When the door swung open and slammed against the wall of yall's shared living space you knew who it was, and what was coming.

"Do you want to get yourself killed?!" Shikamaru belted out down the corridor of the small two bedroom apartment. When you did not respond he barged into the master bedroom forcing your attention.

"Who the fuck do you think you are?" He continued "You must be invincible, death must not be a concern of yours. No your just that fucking strong despite needing three attempts to pass your Chunin exams."

His words stung, even brought tears to your eyes. You tried to remind yourself that they didn't come from a place of malice, but of concern. That did not stop them from hurting, it did not stop them from making you feel small, and weak.

"I need to do this!" You croaked stifling tears that threatened to fall. Your voice trying it's hardest to be strong.

"EVEN IF IT KILLS YOU?!" Shikamaru quickly rebutted.

you took a deep breath before calmly responding, as if to accept the words as they fell out of your mouth.

"Even if it kills me."

The way Shikamaru's eyes fell you could've sworn you'd thrown a kunai straight through his heart. He was gutted, almost to the extent of feeling betrayed.

"Even if that means leaving me here alone."

You could hear the tears trembling in his throat but not a single one fell. He simply turned and walked out the apartment. This was two days before you were supposed to leave, and was the last direct conversation you had with him before you're departure.

While on the journey Kakashi told you two things. One that he had promised Shikamaru that you'd return to the village even if it meant he did not and secondly that Shikamaru had asked him to give you note.

Inside was a detailed apology for suggesting that you were weak or incompetent. Shikamaru said he didn't want you leaving the village believing he had no faith in you or your abilities. Instead he outlined his fears for you. That you weren't ready physically or emotionally to tackle a mission such as this one, that the cost of this mission may have a higher price than you bargained for. Most importantly that you would never come back. He emphasized how much he loved you but was sure to let it be known how angry he was at you. Your complete disregard for his feelings and concern hurt him. He wrote of how unsure it was that he would be there when you returned. He wasn't sure if his methodical mind could forgive such reckless behavior.

That's all you could think of as you laid motionless on the cold forest floor, how correct Shikamaru was. The mission was a success but now you weren't even sure you'd be around to celebrate the victory that seemed to be worth your life just a week ago. In this moment your were heartbroken, distraught, most of all guilty.

The last memory the love of your life would have of you is you telling him that completing some personal vendetta was worth giving up spending the rest of yall's lives together. This was a risk you didn't have to take, a mission you weren't assigned to but you looked Shikamaru in his eyes and told him it was more important than him. And look at you now, fulfilling the very prophecy he feared you would. He would never forgive you for this.

The warm sensation of your blood coating the back of your hands, drew you out of your thoughts. The voices of Sakura and Kakashi were a faint whisper to you, despite the fact they were shouting at each other. You could make out Kakashi telling her to hurry and patch your wounds. He knew it would be a while before the medical core could make it all the way out here, and he wasn't sure you had that much time. He was hoping if Sakura could just stop the bleeding, he could carry you to the village himself. If she could only stabilize you he could do the rest.

"Kashi." You grunted out, twitching your fingers till they meet his hands. His panicked eyes looked over at you and softened some. He was trying hard not to let on how worried he truly was, but the usually stoic ninja, could not handle the thought of breaking his promise.

"Please... tell Shikamaru I'm sorry. Tell him he was right, he'll like that." A pained laugh fumbled from your lips, along with a weak smile.

"Tell him yourself."

You went to protest but felt every bit of chakra drain for your body. Kakashi and Sakura slowly began to fade until everything went black.

When you awoke the agonizingly bright lights along with the low hums of all the equipment were a clear indication of where exactly you are, The Leaf Village hospital.

"And she lives." Kakashi announced. A copy of make out tactics in hand, although his masks was up you felt he had a small smile plastered on his face. As you observed his clean, tidy appearance it was clear you had been here longer than it seemed.

"How long have I been here?"

"A week!" Lady Tsunade scolded her arms folded against her chest as she stormed in Sakura trailing behind her. "Just as I said You nearly got yourself killed out there!"

"But I didn't." You rebutted offering a meek smile. Despite Kakashi and Sakura's giggles Lady Tsunade was not amused.

While you scanned the crowded room, you couldn't help but notice Shikamaru was nowhere to be found. You knew he would be angry with you, but so angry he wouldn't even check up on you. Had you really spent a week in the hospital without a single visit from him? was it true you had survive this mission but your relationship had not? The eerie feeling was too strong to ignore, you couldn't even focus on Lady Tsunade chastising you.

"He's come by everyday!" Sakura interrupted pointing over to a bouquet of Jasmines and Roses, Ino no doubt picked for him.

"He.. didn't want to be here when you woke up." Kakashi confessed.

Sakura elbowed him, right in the middle of his ribs causing him to wince in pain. He nurtured his side shuffling his feet slowly away from her. Clearly he wasn't supposed to share that part. But you appreciated Kakashi's honesty, even if it did break your heart.

"I'll be walking you home." he continued throwing the backpack that you carried everywhere with you over your shoulder.

"Remember, you're on bed rest as soon as you make it home. If I even hear that you've be training so help me God!" Lady Tsunade narrowed her eyes to further emphasize her point. Message received loud and clear.

As you and Kakashi strolled through the village neither of you spoke. You were far to focused on what you might find when you returned home, while he just enjoyed the silence. He feared you might request his input with the situation you and Shikamaru had going on. He was sure all he would do is make you feel worse. The copy ninja was a man of few words, and none of them were inherently comforting.

Once yall approached the front door, you noticed the house completely dark, not even the shine of a table lamp. This was peculiar, your home was usually fully lit at this hour. Shikamaru would usually be home to eat lunch or at the very least find some peace away from his comrades to work out a strategy for a new mission he was assigned. No matter what the reason... he was always here and the house was always vibrant. This dark ominous empty home was not one you knew.

You tried to tell Kakashi that you were more than capable of carrying your bookbag in, but he insisted. You think he's just afraid if word gets back to the Fifth Hokage you exerted any type of unnecessary energy the blame would fall on him. But when the two of you walked across the threshold yall immediately stopped.

Shikamaru was home, sitting completely in the dark staring at the ceiling. The sound of the door opening not even making him move an inch.

"I'll, just leave this here." Kakashi mumbled, placing your bag beside you and walking out closing the door behind him.

Shikamaru still didn't move, not a glance your way, not a word spoken. Absolutely still and absolutely silent. You wanted to jump on him, kiss him all over, tell him just how wrong you were. Tell him that with what you thoughts were your last breaths the only person you wanted to talk to was him. But you didn't, your guilt weighed so heavy on your chest it felt as if you couldn't speak.

You walked over sitting on the couch next to him, your hand meet his cheek and Shikamaru flinched making you quickly draw your hand back. It was as if he had just realized you were even there. Your eyes quickly examined every contour and mark on your boyfriends face. His flushed cheeks, the slightly puffy eyes that gleamed with a sutble red tinge. Could it be that your stoic aloof boyfriend had been sitting here crying all day? The sight shattered your heart into a million pieces. How could you do this to him? How could you be so selfish?

You reached out for his hand grasping it firmly almost as if you didn't grab him now he would be gone forever. In spite of not even being able to look at you Shikamaru held your hand just as tight.

"Shikam-"

"Do you know how mad I am at you?" he interrupted. "Lady Tsunade had to put you in a medically induced coma for a week... A FUCKING WEEK Y/N!"

"I'm sorry you were right. you were right, baby you were right." You cried tears streaming your face. "I'm sorry."

You didn't wanna argue, you had no fight left in you. For God's sake you just wanted the man you loved to look you in your eyes. Tell you how much he missed you, that he was worried about you, and he's still in love with you. That he'll always be in love with you. But he was as cold as ever, he refused to cast his gaze upon you. instead his eyes continue to linger at the ceiling.

Shikamaru wanted to stay angry, as glad as he was to have you alive here with him he still wanted to punish you. He wanted you to hurt just like he did when he had to watch Kakashi carry you unconscious through the front gates, or when Lady Tsunade told him your injuries were to extensive to wake you up after surgery. or maybe when you looked him in his eyes and proclaimed how little your life was worth in comparison to a mission you weren't even officially assigned. Shikamaru wanted you to feel a fraction of what he has the past two weeks.

"Shikamaru... baby. Please, look at me." You begged him reaching for his face again. This time you forced his eyes to meet yours.

As angry as he was, when Shikamaru looked into your tear filled eyes he melted. After a week of watching you lay basically lifeless in a hospital bed, seeing that glimmer of life in your eyes nothing seemed to matter anymore.

"Baby, I'm so sorr-"

Shikamaru didn't let you finish your sentence, he crashed his lips into yours for a sloppy passionate kiss. He pulled you onto his lap never breaking away from you. His hands held your waist tight, you were sure he would leave marks, but the thought of letting you go was almost traumatizing for him. In his arms, he knew you were safe that you wouldn't run off again.

"I was so worried about you." He mumbled against yours lips, light gasp for air in-between his words. "I love you so much y/n... you can't die on me."

#naruto #shikamaru nara #shikamaru x reader #shikamaru #shikamaru x you #shikamaru x y/n #shikamaru fanart #shikamaru imagine #kakashi hakate #naruto art #naruto shippuden #fanfic

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angstyantoinette · 4 years ago

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Yandere! Armin Arlert Headcanons

AGED UP I REPEAT ALL CHARACTERS ARE AGED UP-

This little blonde ball of curiosity is verrryy toxic in my Yandere version.

Armin knows how innocent he looks to other people and by playing on this, coupled with his practical and analytical genius status, boy is it so very easy for him to gain the trust of his comrades, friends and especially his Beloved.

I feel as if Armin wouldn’t be picky with a particular type, but never being attracted to an unkind or particular person he would be disgusted by in any way.

He may fall for someone who is slightly colder, or who doesn’t really know how to respond to kindness. In that scenario, Armin would be overjoyed, but very patient and giving with them; if he wasn’t Yandere.

I see him as very touch-starved and wanting, but afraid to be clingy for fear he would drive his Beloved away. In this case he would dote on you as best he could in his environment, making you fall for him even more.

You would him as endearing, and like most, innocent. Armin is smart; one might say way too smart for his own good, and being a Yandere, I feel this makes him just as dangerous as those willing to use physical violence/methods on their Beloved.

He knows that you just love his little quirks and his way of thinking. If you tell him this, he may think you only see him as valuable because of his skill for strategizing. But when you reassure him that you just love him for him, he just falls in love with you even more.

He’s worrisome about you. Every time he makes practise with your ODM gear until you’re bruised, and exhausted, ready to run into his awaiting arms. Rewarding you with cuddles and affection, Armin’s love isn’t exactly conditional; but it still isn’t normal.

But that’s if you accept his feelings, with Armin being a Yandere or not, and with your knowledge or ignorance.

If you don’t accept his feelings, whether it being for your personal reasons, or because you…um, like someone else, to put it nicely;

YOU’RE FUCKED.

He’ll smile, nod his head, maybe try a little too hard to act like he’s okay with your decision. But you understand, after all, it’s not like you haven’t been rejected before.

“We can always be friends, Armin! I’m here for you okay?”

“Yeah, Y/N, whatever you say…”

About a few weeks after his rejection, with all of the support from Eren, Mikasa and the others, Armin is slowly descending into a deep depression.

He was so sure of his feelings for you. They were his most prized possession. You made him laugh, you made him blush and god you made his pitiful life seem so much more worth living. You were the ocean, and he just wanted to drown myself in you. Like the sun he saw so rarely, you were the ray of pure light that made his body burn.

He lay awake at night, taunted and enthralled with the thoughts of you in so many different scenarios….maybe in particular, different positions.

[Yes, those kinda positions. Armin’s not always that innocent, y’all.]

He knows that the more he thinks of you in these appetizing ways, in these hurtfully satisfying scenarios, he’s never going to be able to get over you.

Rather, he’s not even going to try.

Being trapped in his fantasies, Armin is horrifically aware that these feelings are incredibly toxic, for the both of you. He just won’t let you go. Whatever it takes, Armin will commit whatever crimes he must to keep you in his life.

He sees you as being misunderstood, especially if you’re typically a colder person, hard to read, detached. Some people compare you to Levi, but Armin just knows that you, like the Corporal, have far more depth than you let on.

His intrigue doesn’t let up for a long while, as you’re constantly surprising him in new and amazing ways. You’re used to his deep interest in you after a while, but you still don’t understand him.

Armin thrives on your confusion at first, but if it drives you away from him, he’ll go into tactical mode. Staying up all night,figuring out who is calling your attention to them rather than him and what his next move should be.

With his intelligence, Armin keeps his sizzling bafflement and envy under wraps. He tells himself that maybe he had unerved you a little. He can get like that sometimes, surely you understood him well enough to know that?He obviously did find you interesting and he was willing to momentarily abandon Eren and Mikasa just to fuel his endless curiosity.

Keep in mind, this is after you reject him, and his desperation to just know you and love you is greatly overwhelming him to the highest degree. You just won’t allow him to really see you, to understand you.

Eventually, he snaps. Just not in the typical yandere way. We all know that Armin feels as though he is a nuisance, a self-proclaimed burden so he keeps most of his feelings inside, and lets them loose to either prove a point, or while under stress.

It takes a minute for him to decide what to do with you, because he knows that once he has made a choice, it has to be the right choice. He has to know and map out a detailed plan, whether it’s doable, whether he’s able to pull it off by himself, etc.

His analytical skills come into play, and he plans everything from the location, time, the equipment needed at exactly what time. By this time, he will have comepletely left you alone; abrupt and brash, and just as he planned, you were surprised. Yes, he wanted to get to know you, and you couldn’t help but feel even slightly violated and maybe even disturbed.

Your like anyone in the world, have natural curiosity and interest in just about anything. But the unfamiliar feeling of unsettlement around Armin just felt…off.

You secretly knew of his deep infatuation; people always seemed to determined to figure the silent types out, to crack them open, decipher their many secrets. In terms of this analogy, you sort of understand, maybe even sympathise with his endless novelty toward your character, but even so…just why?

Maybe it was the fact that you felt bad for him, in a sad, puppy love kinda way. Maybe you saw him as a traumatized individual, just putting his assumed coping mechanism to work, with you just in the innocent line of fire.

If he kidnaps you at all, Armin will smother you. Telling you how much you mean to him, explaining that only he can access your wonder and intrigue. Because, after all, he worked this hard to get you; why would he ever share you with anyone else?

Although he will be stern, he’ll always be nice about it, rewarding you or not.

You’re an enigma to Armin Arlert, keeping him guessing, testing his patience with all of your being. You don’t know it, but soon you’ll be in his possession.

I headcanon him as seeing your refusal, your blatant rejection as some kind of ‘disease.’ You haven’t even seen the best of him yet, why make up your mind about something that you know almost nothing of? Oh well, you’ll have plenty of time to get to know each other very soon. He’ll bare his injured soul to you, and you’ll have mo choice but to do the same for him. It’s what married couples do after all, right?

Just let him love you, Y/N. Let Armin adore you. It’s the best thing to do if you want everyone to live.

Glassy, still sapphire eyes simply stared at you in the weak light of a stolen candle. You couldn’t quite pinpoint what they were saying, those beautiful, dangerous, albeit loving eyes. But yet, they also held malice in their abyss’. Endless, bottomless, simply divine they were. That was all you knew.

“Why…do you lie to me?” he murmered. A small, rough palm came to rest against your hollowed cheek, fingertips gently tapping against the skin. Realising how close he truly was, you tried your hardest to get away, shifting in your place in the surprisingly plush, old bed, but all it took was a flash of blonde hair to whip past your face, before he succeeded in holding your arms down.

While he never did this explicitly to punish or harm you, Armin always knew just how to exert his power. Never mind the boundaries that he installed in you the day of your arrival; he didn’t care for them as much as you had to pretend to.

This Armin was unhinged. Normalcy could never be considered in this relationship. He could never understand the pain he put you through. To Armin, it was all in the name of his devotion. All of his interest had been rooted in one fact; you refused to love him.

Once he figured out that you wouldn’t couldn’t love him of your own accord, he became enamoured with something he just knew he could never have.

He had never even thought about taking you, drugging you, dragging you to a secluded spot in the woods, or an out of bounds room, derelict over many years.

“I never intended to take you like this, bunny.”

Swallowing hard, you tried to look him in the eyes, gently lifting your head higher and higher until his blue pools of mere unhinged insanity met your own pained orbs. Seeming to like this, he smiled.

His perfect teeth looked more like fangs in the dim, weak moonlight. It had felt like he had managed to suck every molecule of beauty from even the most simple of things.

His voice sounded like the devil; harsh, unforgiving lilting tones of false hope daring to stroke you face and make you think you had a good chance at happiness.

You didn’t know when he stopped being Armin and began being a monster. You didn’t know if the lines could be blurred any further.

“I never wanted this, Armin-”

“Don’t play with me, bunny,” he snapped. His slender fingers wound themselves in your clean hair, twisting and searching for a soft spot to pull. When he found it, he lightly tugged; barely, but you still winced from the thought of the last time he did this.

You still wanted to believe that he was quiet, sweet Armin who still had an unstoppable fascination with you, but he was harmless then. Or was he? Was he faking his intentions? Did he have it planned from the very beginning?

You wanted to choke yourself for believing his simple demeanour, his dedication to the cause of the Survey Corps just like everyone else. He was a liar. He was a predator in all ways, ensnaring you, his perfect prey.

Only now had Armin realized just how confused you were.

You didn’t understand his love for you. You thought he hated you!

Now that wouldn’t do.

Armin could have have kicked himself. All of his stern discipline and rules stemming from his love and protection meant that you mistook for him being cruel. He was doing this out of his devotion!

How could he assume you would understand if he never told you, if he never proved his love?

“Armin, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean anything, I swear-” You took a deep breath, cutting yourself off. Now was not the place or time to be losing your composure; you still were trying to get used to the fact that you were being held against your will.

“Hush”, he suddenly murmured, gently taking your chin in his fingertips, before moving them to tenderly cup your face, his eyes darting anywhere that he could lay his gaze upon.

The gestures were so tender you found your cheeks erupting with a wild blush, the burning shame hitting you moments later when your hatred and slight fear hit you like a slap to the face.

Your embarassment only got worse when you felt his soft lips kiss your throat, his warm breath flush against your skin. His hands found themselves back in your hair again, stroking it, petting it, twisting it round and round his finger. His right hand caressed your nape, spreading his fingers so that they only just covered the width of your neck, and he pulled you closer, so that your head was nuzzled into his neck, buried beneath his love and fascination.

It all clicked.

Armin wasn’t just interested in you.

He was obessed with you.

Obsessively in love with you.

You felt pathetic. You felt weak. But in a strange way, you also felt loved.

You had no choice but to resign yourself to his touch, letting your head fall limp as he cradled you to his chest.

“Good bunny.”

#yandere aot #yandere snk #yandere armin #armin arlert x reader #attack on titan #yandere #headcanons #yandere attack on titan #Headcanon #hc's #armin x reader

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cursestothemoon · 4 years ago

Text

They Forgot Everything The Minute They Were Together

Requested: yesss

Draco Malfoy x Fem!Reader

Warnings: war, death, animal death, briefly mentioned moment of intimacy (not overtly crude), children, marriage

Summary: Draco Malfoy and Y/n L/n were arranged to be married, this is their story of growing into love while a war looms over everyone’s heads.

Word Count: 3996

✧✧✧

The weather was a biting cold, the kind of cold that makes the tip of your nose numb and your eyes water. Snow was anticipated all over the grounds, the bitter cold mirroring the somber mood of the pale blonde boy inside. Draco Malfoy was sixteen, and his life already seemed to be planned out for him. It wouldn't have bothered him, not really, to be arranged to marry a girl of high society. Someone wealthy, and snobby, and incredibly cold. Someone who deserved to have the luxury of free will ripped away with a firm hand. But he was arranged to marry you, Y/n L/n. He loved you, he was sure of it, it was the only thing he was ever really sure of. You’ve been there for him for as long as he could remember. You grew together, and you were kind, and sweet, and you were everything soft and gentle while Draco was cold, and sharp, and nothing like you. He had jagged edges and loose wires, Draco was everything that you weren’t and it was in the search of your warmth to soothe his frostbite that he fell in love with the smell of your shampoo and the crinkle of your nose. And now as he stood looking over the railing of the astronomy tower, he wished he didn’t love you, not after what he's going to do.

The time neared for their arrival and the boyish innocence that remained somewhere in him was slowly dwindling with the job he was given, but he thought of you to calm his nerves. Draco was lucky, he was well aware of how rarely arranged marriages are between two people already in love. The wedding had been planned since his birth, neither you nor him old enough to understand the meaning of what your mothers whispered about. It was a vague memory, both of you aged six, when the bond became more official. Lucius Mlafoy and your father, Y/F/N, made the arrangement a promise, a vow. Narcissa was the one to bind the unbreakable vow between the two men, and a younger you placed bright purple heliotrope flowers delicately into the almost transparent blonde hair of Draco’s.

Since then the two have been inseparable, whether they liked it or not. They had started as innocent friends, a young girl and boy who often spent summers, Christmases, and birthdays together, always joined at the hip. This continued until their second year of Hogwarts, both of you entering a rebellious phase that didn’t end until the end of fourth. Draco would sneer at you and you’d send it right back to him, he hated the arrangement then, he hated that he’d have no choice, and most of all he hated that he was starting on to hate it at all. You felt similarly, he was rude, and arrogant. You didn’t like the way he treated people and you hated how when he focused on something, face relaxing into a look of wonder and gentility, you felt the incredible need to smother him with love.

It was the end of fourth year, Cedric was dead, Voldemort was back, and Draco and you found comfort in each other. For the first time in three years, you and Draco were friends again. Your relationship hadn’t developed yet, instead always teetering on the edge of friendship just waiting to be pushed over. That push came during the summer after your fifth year.

Draco and you were set to get the Dark Marks. Pledge your loyalty to a man who both of you were brainwashed to believe was meant to be a leader. You, ashamed of it now, were quiet about your disagreement with the Dark Lord's ways but Draco had told you to keep quiet, to keep it to yourself. It seemed Draco matured far faster than you during this time, every flinch and the plethora of bruises forced the snarky little boy to grow into a looming man. One whose eyes were swimming with despair and pain, and whose cries kept you awake during the nights you spent at Malfoy Manor.

“Don’t say that! Don’t you ever say that about him!” Draco bellowed

You felt yourself shake with rage at the way he acted so spineless, “You can’t tell me you agree with what he’s doing.”

He took a breath, his shoulders coming down and his face relaxing into a look of eerie stoicism, “Don’t speak of the Dark Lord like that, he is far more powerful than you and me combined. We weren’t made to be heroes, so don’t waste your energy.”

Your eyes followed Draco as he left the room, the ceremony was starting soon.

The room was dark, curtains drawn, fire extinguished, the only light coming from the dim flicker of the overhead chandelier. Two families stood in a circle, the L/ns and the Malfoys, along with others such as Bellatrix Lestrange, Fenrir Greyback, and Severus Snape amongst other unrecognized faces. In the middle stood you and Draco, waiting for the arrival of the Dark Lord. It was with a spine chilling whoosh that he appeared, Nagini and Wormtail in tow.

“Ah, Draco...Y/n. My youngest.” His voice was light, the happiness seeping through each word.

Your heads were kept down, neither of you being able to meet the snake like man’s eyes just yet. The air seemed to thicken with discomfort when you felt a hand wrap around her, pushing your face into the chest of Lord Voldemort. His robes smelled of mildew and something else that you couldn’t put your finger on, and they felt just slightly damp and cold much like his skin. You tried not to gag as the smell of decaying skin assaulted your senses, eyes watering as you prayed to Merlin you’d be freed. Draco also seemed impatient for him to let go of you, he worried you were going to burst, do something to get yourself killed. He took a welcome breath of the mildew smell, relishing in the fact that you were still there, silent and obedient.

“Wormtail, the sacrifice.” The command was drawled out, lips stretching to a smile.

Wormtail drew his wand and muttered a few words, none detectable by you or Draco. He thrust his wand one final time toward the floor in front of you, making a white dove appear along with a white rabbit.

“The rabbit is yours, Y/n. Remember, you must use all three curses.” Voldemort instructed.

You stepped forward, eyes falling onto the snow white bunny. Its red eyes looked back at you, its nose twitching ignorantly.

Stupid bunny, you thought. It won’t even try to run.

It was ironic really, you'd only realize this years later.

The shake in your hand was masked impressively, your wand pointing straight at the white rabbit. You took a breath before muttering the first curse, Imperio, and the bunny moved at your will.

Next, Crucio, and the rabbit flopped and squealed in pain as you waited for your Lord to tell you it was sufficient. The rabbit started to twitch as it fell to the floor, the painful sounds of a prey animal suffering filled the room for what felt like hours until Voldemort called for it to stop.

“Next one, my girl. Go on.” He coaxed you, his tone far too excited.

With a final look at the animal still withering in pain, you found this curse was the easiest to do out of the rest as it would put the suffering bunny out of its misery.

“Avada Kedavra.” Your words were firm but nothing happened.

“As suspected, though it was quite impressive you were able to use the Cruciatus curse.” Voldemort smiled at you before he gave Nagini the ok to eat the suffering animal.

Whilst the snake took advantage of the opportunity, Voldemort continued, “Bella, if you will.”

Bellatrix hoped to your side, wand waving excitedly as she grabbed your wrist roughly.

“Good work you did there, girl. Marrying my nephew, you two’d make a strong alliance for the Dark Lord.” She cackled, pointing her wand to the inside of your left forearm.

She muttered the words for a spell you’ve never heard and the pain was almost instantaneous. White hot, searing pain that made you gasp and instinctively move your right hand to try and push Bellatrix’s wand away. She was quicker than you, her free hand shooting out to grab a chunk of your hair, pulling your head back, her face getting closer to yours making you feel her breath on your cheek.

“Feel the pain. Own it! You do it for the Dark Lord.” She smiled, her teeth yellow and cracked on display.

The mark was finished and Bellatrix let go of you roughly, a sharp cackle coming from her mouth as she pranced back to her spot. Your eyes connected to Draco’s, his holding a look of worry intermingled with horror, but he refused to let them wander down to the mark.

“Draco, my boy. You next. And I’ll be the one to gift you my mark.”

Draco remembers that night, although tinted with horror, with a smile adorned on his face. You had been quiet the entire dinner, and as everyone left you were silent in the retreat to a spare room. This was odd, seeing as Lucius always insisted that you two share a room when together ever since youth. Both of you have grown accustomed to sharing his room when you visit and him making himself comfortable in your own room when he makes the trip to yours. With a destined marriage, it seemed that your parents wanted to push you two impossibly close. This is why Draco was a bit frantic when he opened his doors to see a completely empty room. He ran through the manor, his parents already in bed, their room equipped with a silencing charm in order to keep out the bustling of house elves and visiting death eaters seeing as the manor was the meeting place for most things. So Draco wasn’t worried about his heavy footsteps waking his parents, nor his calls for you.

He found you in the back acres of the house near the little purple flowers, they were your favorite.

“They tried to take them out over winter holiday, had to fight tooth and nail for them to keep it in.” Draco said, a soft smile coming to his lips when you looked at him.

“Thanks.” Your voice was cold, calculated, and Draco hated it.

He moved to sit down next to you, his arm pulling you down with him as he put his back to the grass. Both of you looked up at the stars, wondering how they were still shining so bright when everything inside of you felt like it was dimming steadily.

Draco slowly slid his hand into yours, his cheeks blossoming in a heated tingle as you gave his hand a gentle squeeze. He focused on the sky again, his hand coming up to point at a cluster of stars.

“That’s the constellation, Leo. Has the star, Regulus.”

You recognized the name but kept quiet hoping he’d continue.

“That one- can you see it? Just there?- is Cassiopeia. Then there’s Cepheus, her husband an-”

“I hope we are to become stars when we die.” The words slipped past your lips almost unknowingly to you.

Draco looked at you, eyes searching yours to understand how you were feeling, but he only found the sparkles of wonder.

“You’re a bit late to the party.” He laughed as you gave him a knowing look.

“You know what I mean.”

“I do.” He admitted quietly, turning to look back at the stars.

Your voice greeted him again, “Where’s Draco?”

“Oh, I don’t know. I think I’m with you right now.” He answered back, a small smile playing at his lips as your hand came out to shove his shoulder.

“Alright, alright. It’s just there- no you’re looking in the wrong area- next to the Big Dipper.” He said, pointing in the direction of the constellation.

You propped yourself up on your forearm, looking at Draco who was still flat on the ground.

“How do you know all this?”

He shrugged, fingers going to play with your own absentmindedly, “Mum would bring me out here when I was little and had a bad dream. She’d point out the constellations and stars, our family, she’d call them, until I fell asleep.”

Draco spoke calmly but his voice was heavy with emotion, his eyes unmoving from the sky above him as he longed for a simpler time, for a time he could run to his mother when he had a nightmare instead of having to self soothe.

You noticed the way he seemed to get lost somewhere, and you knew it’d be best if you didn’t pry. Draco was never good with prying and you understood he was vulnerable now.

“I’m quite lucky to be marrying you, Y/n.”

The smile you gave him was gentle, “Yeah? Why’s that?”

“Because I’ll be marrying someone I love.”

The confession had you giddy, unable to form the right words because just an ‘i love you too’ would not satisfy the magnitude of how deeply you loved this boy. Deciding to show him instead of tell him, you were quick to lean down to his lips.

Draco moved fast, his hand not wasting any time to grab hold of your jaw and draw you in closer. He pushed himself up onto his elbow, face now level with yours, though only for a moment as he used his weight to push you to lie on your back. He heard you whimper into the kiss, making electric jolts shoot through his body before he pulled away slowly.

“The stars aligned when you were made to be my wife.” He whispers, his thumb going down to caress the fresh Dark Mark that seemed to not belong on your ethereal body.

Draco felt his lips tug into a smile at the memory but it didn’t help the tremble in his hands. His eyes wandered through the sky trying to find the constellation, his constellation. But he exhaled hopelessly as it seemed the stars had turned their back on him this night.

“Draco, they’re here.” Your voice was rough, and you spoke in breaths as you told him of the success of the vanishing cabinet with the news of the newly arrived Death Eaters.

He gave you a quick nod but his eyes welled with tears, “I suppose it’s too late to throw myself off this tower then.”

“Draco, you don-”

His anger seemed to take over as his face contorted to an expression of frustration, “Don’t- don’t say that. You know what he’d do to my family, to me. You know what he’ll do to you. I have to do this.”

“He’s doing this to punish your father Draco, he knows you can’t do it.”

This only seemed to fuel the fire, you soon realized.

“I can do it! I will do it, for you and for my dad. You can't change my mind.”

You took in a breath, battle already lost as you said, “I know. And I know you’ll hate yourself forever if you were the one to do it.”

“As long as I still have you to love me, the sun will shine again.” His tone turned cold before starting again, “We should go, he’ll be coming back any moment now.”

That was the night you and Draco had a hand in catalyzing the war.

The war was dark, especially for those marked with the remnants of death. You watched on the sidelines, a bystander to evil, and watched your family commit unspeakable acts. And you’d do it all over again if it meant your memory would be cleared of the way Draco slowly crumbled as the war went on, his cheeks sinking in, and eyes losing their shimmer. You’d go through it all if it meant you could forget the way Draco ate away at himself from the inside out.

Draco was running on empty as the Battle of Hogwarts began, the thought of being with you in the end was the only thing really keeping him going. It was the way you’d still curl into his side during the nights you spent in his room, your hand reaching for his underneath the dinner table when the Dark Lord would torture his next victims high in the air, and it was your body that was warm and bare that seemed to make him forget, just for the night, that he was destined to be the villain.

His hands ran down your bare sides, his head buried in your neck as he kept pace with his thrusts. Your moans spurring him on and your fingers that ran through his slightly sweaty hair, starting from the nape of his neck.

As Draco slowly drew out your release, he wasn’t a killer, he wasn’t a Death Eater, and he wasn’t fighting on the wrong side of the harrowing war. He was just your lover, grateful for the trust you instilled in him to care for your body as no one else has.

He pressed a kiss to the black swirling of the Dark Mark on your wrist, you had already fallen asleep as he did so. He looked at the mark as a disgrace to the skin he believed to be free of any and all imperfection. Draco hated it.

It was with fear and guilt that you two fought at Hogwarts, not for the cause but for each other. Every spell and every curse was in the name of your lover, and you couldn’t help but pray that it ended soon.

Ended, it did, with Draco and you finally fighting for a better cause. The Dark Lord had just been killed, his body crumbling to ash horrifically, and Draco was quick to grab your hand as he walked somewhere with purpose. He knew what would happen to those with the mark still on the grounds, regardless of who they helped in the end. He couldn’t lose you, not when you had just won.

That was how you had found yourself, hand in hand with Draco, in front of a fairly good sized house in the countryside somewhere. The house was old, not in condition, but in style. It stood tall as Weeping Willows extended delicate tendrils over the area, the exterior was a gentle sage green with white accents and many, many windows.

“It was left to me by my great-grandmother. It’s our home now.” Draco whispered, not wanting to ruin the fragile moments.

The emotions seemed to hit you like a tidal wave, not just from today but the past two years were finally over. Your shoulders shook with your cries and Draco watched nervously, worried you had changed your mind of loving him, and he wouldn’t blame you.

“What’s wrong, Darling?” Draco asked as he pulled you into his chest.

He smelled of ash and dirt, but his familiar scent of expense peeked through carefully. His clothes were tattere, much like yours, and hair messy but when you pulled away to look into his eyes you couldn’t help but think he was the most exquisitely attractive person you had ever seen.

Your hands came up to cup his face, “I love you, Draco. So much.”

He smiled before kissing you gently, then his lips dropped to the inside of your left wrist placing another kiss there before pulling you towards the house. Walking on the white and grey cobble path made in the grass toward the house, you noticed the same little purple flowers that you had accompanied you when you kissed Draco for the first time outside of the manor.

Upon entering the house, you noticed the way it was evident it belonged to a family of wealth. The inside looked freshly cleaned, everything in its place. The interior was beautifully Victorian, it was proud as it basked in the light that pooled in through the large windows.

This was your home.

You and Draco loved your home, you married behind the house in the intricate garden with family and friends, your bouquet adorned generously with Heliotrope flowers. You healed your wounds of foolish childhood and rushed maturing within the walls, and it was in this home where you raised your children.

Arcturus Malfoy, named after a boy with a brave story that mirrored your own, a son whose pale blonde hair and cool blue eyes derived directly from his father, along with his nose but he got his stubbornness and sarcasm from his mother. Asterope, an asteroid that blazed bright without hesitation, the twin sister of Arcturus. Her hair and eyes were just like yours, but her lips were shaped like her father’s and her quiet stealth and calculated thinking was also, just like her fathers.

“Come on, we can’t have the train leaving without you two on it.” You said, holding your son's hand as Draco had your daughter.

Your daughter’s voice piped up, “It’s rather ridiculous this is the only way there.”

“Your dad said the same thing when we were almost late our fifth year.” You smiled at the memory.

Draco laughed at the way Asterope scrunched her nose at the other children making their way to platform 9 ¾. She was far too mature for the ripe age of eleven but he failed to remember himself as just the same way.

“You can just swim, Aster.” Arcturus said with a comically straight face before his lips split into a grin as he looked up at you.

You guys stopped in front of the barrier, fond memories warming your heart as you looked at the bricks.

“What now?”

You looked at Arcturus with a smile then turned to Asterope as you motioned for her to come stand next to her brother.

“You run through it.” Draco informed as he stood next to you, hand snaking around your waist.

“How convenient.”

“That doesn’t seem very safe.”

Both twins responded at the same time making you and Draco laugh. Eventually, Arcturus was the first to run through the barrier with his cart, Asterope following with furrowed eyebrows.

“You know she’s just like you.” You said, making Draco scoff.

“I was so much worse, Darling.”

His answer made you laugh, bringing up your intertwined hands to your lips. Placing a careful kiss to the barely there mark, it had started to fade the moment Voldemort was killed. Draco felt his heart flutter at the action, wondering how he got so lucky.

“Whatdya say? Run through it for good luck?” A mischievous glint flashed in your eyes.

“Of course.”

The otherside of the barrier was just as you remembered it, and the nostalgia made your eyes tear up. The goodbyes were quick, but still incredibly difficult for you and Draco to let go of your kids when they hugged you before boarding. You two waved as Asterope and Arcturus found their ways into the train.

You and Draco turned to leave as your kids settled into their compartments with kids they, presumably, just met. A mixture of blonde, brunette, and raven haired kids sat in one compartment no longer needing the ready hand of a parent.

“Y/n! Wait!” A voice called behind you, and if you had paid a little more attention maybe you would’ve recognised it, but instead you stood a bit frozen with Draco still wondering who it was.

“I still remember what you did.” The voice said again, making you finally turn around.

Your eyes found the culprit and you gulped, worried of what he was going to say.

“I never got to thank you.”

Fred Weasley smiled at you, his hand resting around the shoulders of a young boy with bright red hair and his father’s lopsided grin.

#Draco Malfoy imagine #draco malfoy #draco malfoy x reader #harry potter imagines #draco malfoy imagines

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absolute-flaming-trash-archive · 4 years ago

Text

Hurt

Here's a smol Hisoka piece I wrote while I was in the hospital waiting room. Not edited.

Pairing: Hisoka x Fem!Reader

Angst, Implied NSFW, Fluff if you squint

Word Count: 734

Warnings: Blood mention, Hisoka being a horny bastard

Part 2, Part 3

---

It was bad this time.

Blood dripped down his arms as he picked the lock to your house and pushed his way in, leaving a bloody smeared handprint on the pristine white of your front door.

Your relationship was... an odd one. He had taken refuge in your house after a fight that left him a little worse for wear, but the smile that split across his face indicated he wasn't anywhere close to feeling the pain just yet.

He didn't realize someone was home.

You had jumped out of your skin when you saw the beaten and bloodied man lounging on your couch with the eerie smile on his face, the bloodlust oozing from him making you want to turn and run out of your home as fast as possible.

But you didn’t.

Instead you looked over his injuries and treated them as best as you could, despite shaking from the pure presence that this man emitted. He was intrigued that you didn't scream that a stranger was in your house. That you didn't call the authorities and try to have him removed. Instead you patched him up as best as you could, and offered him a place to stay while he recovered.

Which led to your relationship now.

He would come in bloodied. You'd patch him up. He would leave.

You'd never get any notice as to when he would arrive, but you never complained.

Something he was thankful for, now that Machi refused to treat him anymore.

"Hello, darling" He rasped, stumbling into your living room. You glanced up from the book in your lap and gasped loudly.

He was covered in blood. Scratches and bruises littered his arms, and a long diagonal gash from his right shoulder to the lower ribs on his left side were the first injuries that caught your attention.

"Hisoka, are you fucking insane???" You all but screeched, jumping up from your seat and moving towards him. A deep chuckle left him as he watched your frantic movements, "So happy to see you too, doll."

You sat him down and knelt in front of him to assess the damage, but with the amount of blood soaking through his clothes, it was difficult to tell.

"You need to take off your shirt, I can't help you with it still on."

A smirk spread across his face as he stared at you through half-lidded eyes, "Only if you buy me dinner first, my dear". You rolled your eyes and stood, and making your way towards your bathroom for your first aid kit.

"Now, Hisoka."

He gave a wry smile to himself before he began to peal off the clothing, the partially dried blood making the fabric stick to his skin.

What a shame, he liked this outfit.

You returned swiftly with the kit in one hand, and a bowl with warm water and a cloth in the other, eyes widening when you finally got a good look at the gash on his chest.

“Jesus christ...” you whispered, placing the bowel on the floor as you knelt in front of him once again, “What the hell did you get yourself into this time?”

“Hmmm~ nothing too out of the ordinary” he held back the groan that wanted to make its way out of his throat as you dragged the cloth down his torso, “I was hired to dispose of someone, they put up the most wonderful fight.”

You shook your head, rinsing the cloth before going back to clean the gash, “I still don’t understand why you won’t just go to a hospital for these wounds.” Each drag of the cloth revealed more of the laceration to you. He would need stitches for sure, no doubt in your mind, and you weren’t equipped to handle that level of care. The chortle that left him gave way to a breathy moan when you slid the cloth down the length of the cut, his hand grabbing your wrist and pulling you towards him; making you fall awkwardly on his lap with a startled gasp.

“Plenty of reasons, my dear, but the main one being you.”

You craned your neck up to look at him with a glare, annoyed at his teasing disposition at a time like this. You all but cursed the mischievous look in his eyes.

“Hisoka-”

“Yes, darling?”

Damn him.

“That better be your cards digging into my ribs”

---------------

Part 2, Part 3

Tag List: @prettycutebunny, @luesi @my-child-gaara @mynameseri @trash-writings @shorkbrian

#riri writes #here y'all go #just a snack #hisoka #hisoka morow #hisoka x reader #hisoka morow x reader #hxh #hunter x hunter #tw: blood

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mondscheinprinzessin · 3 years ago

Text

drunken tattoos

This post discussing Olli’s not visible BC tattoo didn’t leave my mind and I just had to write something stupid. So here are Joonas and Olli making a pact to get the BC logo tattooed on their asses.

I am dedicating this dumbassery to @drippinlou and @dream-thieves

(also pls don’t get a tattoo while drunk)

Playing in front of more than a hundred people was more exhilarating than Olli could've ever expected. The way they swayed and jumped to their music, sang along to the words and made them feel like the biggest band walking on earth.

It had to be celebrated. Selling that many tickets was a new high in their band life and it was steady but surely going uphill for them. Soon it was no more playing in shady bars and dirty clubs, they could get a bigger stage and invest in equipment.

Olli wanted to ride on that high forever, the beers he had downed helping him to keep him afloat on a cloud of adrenaline, excitement, and blissful joy. The wide smile on his face had been there for the last hour or so, but Olli couldn’t stop. Seeing his bandmates in each other’s arms and screaming to a Britney Spears Remix currently playing in the club would remain as a picture forever saved in his memories.

Joonas hooked arms with him and pressed a cocktail in his hands with the command to drink it up. And who was Olli to refuse such a charming smile on his fellow guitarist.

Not long after -or was it, Olli couldn’t tell- the both of them found themselves in the alley outside the club, still swaying to the music that could be heard through the open doors. They passed a few smokers that gave them disapproving stares but Olli couldn’t care less. He was having the time of his life.

Passing a corner Joonas suddenly stopped in his tracks, regarding him with wide eyes.

“What?” Olli asked, confused. “Don’t tell me you have to puke, go somewhere else for that.” Already on the move to march forward, Olli was once again held back by Joonas by a tug on his hand.

“No, I have an amazing idea.” He told him with shining eyes, the mischief was clear as day, but that was normal with Joonas and didn’t worry him.

When nothing else came Olli motioned with his hand to continue, looking at him expectantly. Now he wanted to know. The night was too early to kill off and he was in the mood for an adventure, which was guaranteed to happen with a drunken Joonas in company.

“Oh right.” Joonas said as if he had forgotten he was in the middle of explaining. “Tattoos!”

“Tattoos?”

“Yes, tattoos! We always wanted our band logo tattooed, don’t you remember?”

“Of course I remember.” Olli defended himself. “I’m not that drunk.” He said and promptly stumbled over his own foot, holding himself up by the wall next to him.

A giggling came from behind, but Olli found it funny enough to join in, already forgetting what reason Joonas had to laugh.

“Let’s do it now.”

Lifting his head, getting dizzy from the abrupt movement, he looked at Joonas, thinking hard about what they were talking about. “Huh?”

“The tattoo.” Joonas said urgently like it was the most important thing on earth right now. And...it kind of was in Olli’s opinion. Tattoos sounded great. He wanted one.

“Now?” he asked to be sure he understood the plan.

“Of course now. Now is the best time.”

Olli agreed and nodded with his head more forcefully than it was necessary, the world once again hiding behind a blurriness that he was unable to blink away.

“But we can do one better. Let’s make a pact!”

“A pact?” Olli felt like he was only asking questions this evening, his brain slowed down and unable to process any information Joonas threw his way.

Hitting him square over the chest Joonas grinned at him. “Dude, how drunk are you, keep up. A pact between brothers.”

Olli hummed and grabbed Joonas by the shoulders to pull him into a hug, simultaneously tousling his hair. They almost fell over from the force but Joonas was able to keep them upright.

“You’re the bestest brother.” Olli said and squeezed tighter, Joonas only chuckling into his shoulder, the sound loud in his ear but enough to raise his spirits even higher. The fun that came out of forming a band with his friends and touring together was the greatest thing in his life, enjoying the close bond they had and right now he had the most awesome fun ever.

Joonas weaseled his way out of his grip and jumped on his back instead, giving Olli only seconds to take a hold of his legs but they managed, going forward on wobbly knees and in a zigzag course, only swerving around a lamppost last second and when Joonas pulled his hair in the direction they were headed to.

Picking up from where they left off, Joonas said, “So, from brother to brother I say let’s put it on our ass.”

Coming to a halt, Olli tried to understand the strings of words and especially the combination of tattoo and ass in one sentence.

“Hey, I didn’t say you could stop.” Joonas let out and wiggled with his legs till Olli got the memo and started walking again. More or less.

“Why on our ass?”

“Uh...because that’s funny? And like the greatest idea ever. And funny.” He said as if it was obvious. Which- yeah okay Olli could see behind it. It was pretty funny. Hilarious even. Why didn’t they think of it before? Might be the greatest idea Joonas ever had. Or the one they could remember.

“It is.”

“Then onward my fair steed” Joonas said and began giggling again when Olli picked up speed and Joonas was swaying on his back like a ship on the high sea. It was a miracle they didn’t crash and kept lying in a ditch, waiting to be found by their bandmates in the morning.

Somehow, they managed to find their destination, or more like a random tattoo parlour that was mysteriously open at this hour. But why should they care as long as they would finally get their tattoos.

They wandered inside (Joonas by his side instead of his back), greeting the woman behind the counter who had a boring expression on her face. She raised an eyebrow, eying them from top to bottom but didn’t comment on their state.

When asked what she can do for them they simply said ass tattoo. That should cover all information needed.

The woman called for a Sarah and a blonde woman emerged from a room, waving Joonas over who had a flirty smile already on his face. Always ready to play with his charms. Who knows what could come out of this.

Olli eyed the woman, whose name he still didn’t know, but followed her willingly into another room, losing sight of Joonas. They would see each other soon enough. With a little extra on their bodies.

He laid down as instructed, his pants off over a chair and his underwear pulled down to bare his butt for everyone to see. Without the alcohol he may have been blushing more over the fact he was showing himself off so freely, but he couldn’t see what the woman was doing anyway.

He had given her the flyer of tonight's concert so she had a template for the tattoo, and it wasn’t like it was a big one, he would cope.

The first lines of the needle hurt nevertheless and reached his mind even in his drunken state, the alcohol only doing so much to fight back on the pain. After a while though the buzzing only made him tired, having to suppress the urge to close his eyes and just fall asleep.

He contemplated over doing just that when the woman swatted over his cheek not currently sporting a tattoo and that helped him getting awake again. He practically jumped up, refraining from pulling up his underwear as she needed to get over the aftercare stuff but then he was free to go.

He stumbled over the threshold into the colder night air, the alcohol level noticeably lower but not enough to keep his head from spinning. He could hardly make out Joonas leaned against the lamppost across from him, but that stupid hat was indicator enough it was his friend standing there and not some stranger with striking similarity.

Joonas put out his cigarette when Olli came closer. “Well, how was it?”

“Not liking getting my ass spanked but other than that I’m fine.”

Joonas let out a loud laugh from deep in his chest, probably waking every sleeping person in the street. “Sounds like you had a good time. Show me?”

“Are you stupid? Not here. I don’t want to get arrested for public nuisance.” Olli said and shoved Joonas away when he made grabby hands towards his belt. He was definitely not getting naked here.

“Tease.” Joonas whined disappointed. “Oh! But let me show you mine.”

“Joonas, no. I don’t wanna see your ass now either. Besides, we got the same motive?”

But Joonas didn’t make a move to open his pants, no, he only shoved his hand into his face, making him crosseyed.

Grabbing the hand waving before his eyes, he tried to focus. “Joonas, what? Hey! What is this?”

There was clearly a diamond shaped thing on the back of his hand, that suspiciously looked like their band logo, and then it dawned on him.

“There is one on your ass too, right? You didn’t make me do that alone? Right? Joonas?”

His questions fell on deaf ears though and there was only maniac laughter coming from Joonas, who upon seeing Olli’s eyes darken, got a good headstart and ran away before Olli could grab the hem of his jacket. Cursing, Olli could do nothing than follow Joonas and made sure they didn’t lose their way to the hotel and then he could wrestle him down long enough to tattoo that stupid thing on him on his own.

#I wrote his in an hour and didn't edit it #so sorry for mistakes #but I couldn't stop writing and just had to share it with you #blind channel #Olli Matela #Joonas Porko #my fic

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billyspotato · 4 years ago

Text

Visiting Day [Part 2] - Eric Coulter

Words: 3.100+ words

Type: Fluff

Warnings: English is not my first language, sorry if I misspell anything. Maybe swearing? Being naked?

[Part 1] [Part 2]

A/N: Gif’s not mine :)

“I swear on Earth itself, Eric, if you don’t get your ass up” You start while listening to the alarm beside you.

Eric is rarely slow on getting up, but he still had these days where he doesn’t feel like it. He knows he can’t fall back asleep, so, he leaves the alarm playing to wake up the whole building.

The man under you moves slightly and the alarm is turned off, leaving your ears ringing slightly, because you were that close to the alarm.

You open your eyes to look at the buff blondie under you and he looks like he is getting ready to fall back asleep.

“You have to go train the initiates” You tell him while looking up at him, his eyes open as you do so, and he quickly glares down at you.

“Don’t remind me” He says with his raspy and low voice, a result from sleeping.

You roll off him and lay your head on your pillow, so Eric can’t use you as an excuse to stay and not work, and he groans out of frustration when his, now exposed, torso meets the cold breeze.

“Aren’t you working today?” He asks pulling your hair away from your face, just to gain your attention.

“Only after breakfast” You answer and open your eyes just to see his reaction.

A glare is all you get before he rolls his eyes in annoyance and sits up in the bed. You close your eyes again as he pulls himself up, probably revealing his naked self to the world.

As Eric starts looking through the drawers for clean clothes and you fall asleep again.

(…)

You walk in the cafeteria and see all the initiates eating their breakfast like they’ve been starved. You can’t blame them, the 6am workouts are the worst, no food in your system, only water. You felt like passing out most of the time when you did them.

You feel that people are looking at you as you walk up the metal stairs and once you check, many initiates are actually looking at you. Majority guys, but some girls as well. You can’t really tell what their looks mean since when you got interested, you were already up the stairs.

“Y/N” One of the leaders says when laying his eyes on you, “You got to save us before it’s too late”

You walk to his table confused and he smiles when the other leaders laugh at his choice of words.

“Eric is in a bad mood today” He says, and you can’t help but chuckle.

“Okay?”

“More than normal” He explains, “Some initiates annoyed him today at training and now we’re all paying the price”

You look around the tables filled with leaders and other kind of Dauntless members.

Your eyes land on the blonde man sitting alone and you’re able to tell that he’s annoyed just by how tense he looks.

You decide to go grab a muffin for your breakfast before going to him and some other leaders look at you, almost as if thanking for your existence.

No one, not even Max, can deal with Eric when he’s in his worst mood.

Once you’re close enough, Eric scrubs his face with his hands in frustration and you put down your food next to him, on the table.

“What’s up, bubs?” You ask in a loving and playful tone as he sighs out loud.

You put your legs over each side of the bench and take a good look at Eric, who hasn’t even looked at you. You lay your hand on his shoulder lightly and move it over to his neck, trying to relax his tense muscles by caressing his skin.

“I hate having to deal with initiates” He admits, pulling his hands away from his face and laying his cheek on his fist while looking at his food.

You stay silent for a bit, taking in what he’s saying and waiting to see if he wants to say anything else, before you jump in and talk.

“Are they that annoying today?” You ask while playing with the short hair on the back of his head with your nails.

He scoffs at your words as if they weren’t even half of what he experienced today.

“You’re going to have fun with them” Eric says ironically, not answering your question.

Oh, it’s that bad.

You’re not one to get easily irritated when training initiates because you try to understand that most of these people never fought or held a gun, but there are exceptions. And people compared you to Eric when those exceptions were a part of your day.

From disrespecting you or any other leader to refusing to work, you couldn’t just tolerate it. You’re okay when people feel exhausted and want to take a breather, but not when they step a foot on the gym and say, ‘I’m not doing it’.

No, that is not happening.

You decide not to talk any further about the matter and change the subject.

“We have ‘capture the flag’ today” You tell him, and he lets his shoulders fall and looks at the wall in disbelief. He completely forgot.

“Can’t Four go for me?” He asks and you smile at his words.

“No” You say, making him finally look at you, “I’ve been waiting to play against you since I became a leader. Don’t take this easy win from my hands, now”

Eric laughs at your words and you smile at him, noticing him finally relaxing.

“Easy win, uh?” He asks when calming down his laughter.

“Yeah, don’t think so?” You ask while smiling and he grabs his cup smiling back.

“You’re going to lose so fast” He says in almost a whisper and you gasp dramatically at his words before laughing slightly.

“You wish, Coulter”

(…)

You understand Eric’s annoyance, now. The initiates are starting to get to your nerves.

Not all of them. There’s this group of guys and girls that just make you want to rip your hair out. They are just doing the bare minimum.

You look at Four in annoyance and he sighs next to you.

The both of you look at the group of guys hitting a boxing bag each and you roll your eyes when noticing that they’re making fun of a girl next to them.

“Hey!” You shout, making your voice echo from the huge gym and the guys (and everyone else) look at you, “Stop playing around and start training! How many times have I told you this?”

One of the guys covers his mouth with his hand and you can tell that he’s trying not to laugh.

“10 laps around the gym” You order, and they look at you in disbelief.

Four walks away when noticing that there are some initiates who need help, back at the boxing bags, and you stay where you’re standing.

The boys continue to look at you and you frown at them.

“Didn’t hear me?” I ask and they nod.

Here’s the thing, initiates are not used to run around the gym, specially when they had a 6am workout with Eric, which was running through the whole premises of the Dauntless faction. Initiates run across when warming up, while Dauntless borns run around the room. Seems easy until you notice that your trainer wants you to run close to the walls and not take short cuts.

Damn you, Eric.

As the three boys start their laps around the room, you walk to over to the girl that was being made fun off.

“What’s your name?” You ask her and she looks at you, scared.

She answers you and you nod, looking back at the ranking board. Bellow the red line.

Once you start instructing the girl on how to really hit the boxing bag and adjusting her positioning, your sister’s eyes were glued on you.

She hasn’t really seen you up close since the altercation with your parents, but she has been trying her best on each training session.

She tries not to ask for help when it’s you or Eric training her, she doesn’t want to seem annoying and a slow learner to the two of you, but Four and other trainers really help her after hours.

You step away from the girl as she gets the hang of it all and you look around to see if there’s anyone else struggling, everything looks fine. You look around to check on the boys and they’re still running. God damn miracle.

(…)

You help some trainers carry the equipment to the train and Eric continues to make sure that he has every initiate in the big group of teenagers in front of him.

“Do we have everything?” You ask and the trainers nod.

You walk over to Eric and the trainers make their way to the front carriages, since they’re just going to monitor everything while the game happens, therefore, they don’t need to occupy more space in the only carriage you’re using.

Eric tells the initiates to get on the train and he’s quick to follow them, while you continue to look for your sister. Once you find her, you notice her talking and laughing with another girl, making you feel relieved over her finally having friends.

You walk close to the doors after checking if everyone is on and Eric stretches his hand out for you. You take it and he quickly pulls you into the carriage.

You close the sliding door once the train starts to move and Eric does the same.

“Alright” Eric starts, gaining silence and everyone’s attention, “We’re playing a game like ‘capture the flag’”

You grab one of the bags and pass it to Eric, who grabbed it and grabbed one of the guns.

“Weapon of choice,” He says, holding it so everyone can see, “A gun in which has neurostim darts as bullets, simulates the pain of a real gunshot wound. Only lasts a couple of minutes”

You see everyone tense up as the words ‘gun shot wound’ comes out of Eric’s mouth and you chuckle slightly.

“We’ll have two teams, me and Eric are captains” You say to everyone, making them look at you. You look over at Eric and smirk, “You can choose first”

Eric smirks back and says the name of the guy at the top of the leader board, making you bite the inside of your cheek in frustration. You’re quick to answer with the second on the leader board and Eric glares at you, gaining a smile.

“Y/S/N” You say, and she looks over at you in shock, expecting to be one of the lasts to be picked.

“Uh, picking the weak ones so you have someone to blame when you lose?” Eric asks and you roll your eyes at him.

You two continue to pick the rest of your team members until there’s no more initiates and the train stops. Eric and you jump out of the train and walk over to the amusement park in silence, the trainers are already going to their spots in case someone tries to trespass the limits of the park or if a medic is needed.

You play with the flags, both of them glowing in the dark intensely, and you give Eric the green one.

“You can have the ugly one” You tell him, and he grabs it, chuckling at you.

You two walk in the park and separate right away, so that Eric can go find a place to hide his flag.

“Alright everyone, we just have to wait until we hear the horn. Once we hear it, the game starts” You explain to your side of the team.

You take a look around the group and notice the fear written on some of their faces, especially your sister, she looked terrified.

And she is. She’s terrified of the idea of making you lose. She’s terrified of today being one of the days that her aim is awful. She’s scared of making you look bad.

“So, we’ll obviously need an offense and defense team. I’ll be in the defense, who wants to come with me?” You ask, grabbing your sister’s attention and most of the team lifts up their arm.

You start arranging the team, giving yourself more defense players, since you believe that Eric’s team is too good to let a big group of people run past them, towards the flag. And on the last minute, you look over to your sister.

“Actually, you’ll be offense” You tell your sister, making her look at you with widen eyes.

“What?” She whispers and you ignore her shock to look at the team.

“I’ll stay down here fighting while you guys try your best to get that flag, I can’t be the one to get it” You explain and everyone nods, “Don’t push if you don’t feel safe enough to do it. These darts hurt more than you think”

Well, that didn’t really relax anyone.

“Last 30 seconds” A trainer announces, and you look over at her and at your team.

“Let’s go” You say with a smile.

Everyone follows you while trying to fight their nerves and anxiety and as you take another step, the horn sounds.

You whisper commands as all of you start moving as a group and they all do as told, no hesitation.

You look over at your sister and she is too focused on what’s in front of her to notice your stare.

“Relax, I got you” You whisper only to her and she looks at you, almost forcing her muscles to do what you told her to.

Once all of you enter the center of the amusement park, you start looking around. It’s empty, no sign of the enemy team.

But you know Eric too much. This is a trap.

“Go around to their side” You whisper to half of your offense team and they run off right in that second. “Try to see where their flag is”

Your side of the team starts looking around as careful as ever while you continue to look at every box and wall suspiciously.

“There” Your sister says, and you look at her. She points at the second tallest tower of the amusement park; you can just see the tip of the flag waving with the wind. Bastards, they know how to hide it.

“Let’s go that way” You tell them and they all nod.

You all hesitate to go over the center of the park and go around just like the other half of your team, and once you meet them, you hear someone shout.

“They’re over here!”

You’re sure that’s Eric defense screaming, and him and his offense are coming right at you right now.

“You” You start by looking at your sister, “Go with those two to the flag” You order, pointing at other 2 team members, and she doesn’t move, “Now!”

The three of them get up and start running to the tower and you start hearing footsteps, many of them.

“They’re coming” You tell the rest of your team.

Everyone in your team peaks over the boxes and as you hear them start firing their darts, you help them.

Not all your darts hit someone or something, but with the help of some of the others from your team, you’re able to bring at least 4 players down.

“They’re defense is pushing us as well”

You decide to stop looking and aiming at the offensive team and try to deal with defense on your own.

You’re quick to study the scenery, how many teenagers do you see peeking out from the boxes and of course, how bad their aim is.

You’re not trying to lose an eye today.

After some more shooting, you’re able to bring down two of the defensemen and some of your team are also screaming in pain behind you.

You decide to push in when noticing that their defense is not trying to get up any soon and some of your teammates do the same.

They’re quick and silent when following you into better positioning.

How does your team not have the flag yet?

You peek again and smirk at the sight.

“Oh, there you are” You whisper to yourself before shooting at Eric.

He’s quick to move back and you look for a way to push in more.

A sharp pain hits your shoulder and you hiss in pain as you feel it. You look over to your side and you’re quick to react with the trigger as you see a guy from Eric’s team aiming at you.

You lean back on the box once he falls and you pull off the dart, smashing it to the ground. You’ll never get used to this pain.

You push in when noticing that your team is still standing like before and run closer to Eric. You notice him fighting a girl from your team and quickly shoot him on the arm and leg.

A tone of darts are shot your way as you do it and you’re quick to duck under the box. As you move over to the side, another sharp pain hits your thigh and you groan when caught by surprise.

You look around in confusion and quickly see Eric behind another box, now in front of you.

How the hell did he move so fast?

You crouch while hissing in pain from your leg and try to get better positioning, but you’re almost surrounded.

Eric peeks at you again after being done with another guy from your team and you pull the trigger, hitting him on this forearm. As he hisses him pain, you push in and land another two darts in his leg and a last one on his chest.

You duck again and a loud horn is heard around the park, snapping you back into reality.

You look over to the tower and see your sister with the green flag in her hands, waving it around as your team starts cheering.

You chuckle and stand up, regretting it right in the same second because of the sharp pain still circulating on your tight.

“You alright there, old man?” You ask when noticing that Eric hasn’t stood up.

“Fuck you” He says in a groan of pain and you smile.

(…)

You laugh at Eric when walking out of the park and he smiles down at you. You play with the flag on your hands and look around, finding your sister, talking to her friend.

You step away from Eric and he stops walking to look at what you were about to do.

Your sister looks at you and smiles right away. You give her the flag and she takes it.

“You deserve it” You tell her before walking back to Eric while still looking at her and grabbing his hand, “But just make sure to give it back, they have this weird thing about keeping it extremely clean for next year”

She nods before you could turn back around and you all walk back to train.

- - - - - -

A/n: I feel like this could’ve been better, sorry that it’s so simple.

I decided to tag everyone that asked for a part 2 and commented on the last part: @scarhades @seafrost-fangirl @letsthedogpackandthecats @prettyinblack231 @a-dorky-book-keeper @xxxxxerrorxxxxx @artaxerxesthegreat @taina-eny @caro-jean @nico-jai-1�� @thatoneweirdfoxysexygirl

🌸✨Sorry, but I’m not writing in this account anymore. Go check out my new one @twinklelilstarkey ✨🌸

#Eric Coulter #eric coulter imagines #eric coulter imagine #eric coulter x reader #jai courtney #jai courtney x reader #divergent #divergent imagine #insurgent #insurgent imagine #eric x reader

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danddymaro · 4 years ago

Text

Taking things Slow | Steve Rogers x Reader

Could she really love a second time?

I’ve had this idea for so long.

- Hints of Steve x Peggy, as well as bits of reader x (former lover).

Word Count : 2328

Taking Things Slow

The cold air’s embrace smoothened her as she stood outside on the balcony, gazing up at the star riddled sky, wondering if somewhere up there, there was a twinkle that looked down at her with fondness.

“Is it wrong?” She asked out loud, asking the stars for an answer.

“Should I be feeling this way?” She added, staring up at the glimmering orbs as they decorated the night,

“Would you forgive me?” She then uttered, smiling with melancholy as she let her heart speak, wanting to hear an answer back.

Attentive to the night, and much more the memories that came forward, she didn't realize that there was someone else that couldn’t sleep, having been intent to do just what she had, having his own questions in mind until he came across her.

She was quick to turn at the sound of her name, the breathy utter making her crash back down, because the man that now stared at her was the very one that made her feel all of the dreaded guilt,

“Steve,” She said back, staring wide eyed at him, wondering just how they managed to always cross paths, even while she’d made it her mission to evade him at all costs.

“(F/n),” Steve said softly, stepping closer to her after the single utter of her name, doing so by moving slowly, almost like he was stepping over thin, cracking ice that would give in at any minute.

All the while, she looked at him with a wavering glare, her lips pressed together firmly, effectively stopping the bottom one from quivering as much as it wanted to, because she was sick and tired of crying, detesting how easy it was for her to break down, even after so long.

‘ You always find me.

you’re always there...

so by now, you have to know.

You already know...don’t you?

Haven’t you had enough?’ She mused with the same irksome pain.

“So…” She started in a breathy tone, miserably trying to steady herself, “ What now?” she spoke quietly, sporting a crooked smile, forcibly drawing out a pretended, inconvincible expression of joy, because she didn't know what else to do.

she didn't know what to say, or even how to look at him anymore, and if that wasn’t bad enough, she didn't know how to feel about him.

- And that was the part that struck her worse.

Within the confinement of her chest, there was something there for him, something that felt like it was gradually invading more space until it was the only thing there.

She knew there was something there, yet, she wasn't sure just what to do with it.

There was an anchor chained to her heart, and the guilt she felt caused her to stay put, not ascending any higher than she should, especially with him.

Because she couldn't have fallen in love… not a second time.

She didn't want to believe it, because she'd had her first love already. she had her first story and though it wasn't finished, she didn't want to open another book.

She simply couldn't.

She refused to live happiness that she knew was supposed to be with someone else, no matter how lovely the promise seemed to be.

She felt like a traitor, a disgusting cheater that was turning away from promises she had made with someone else, even if they weren’t there any longer.

‘Sometimes,’ (f/n) started, swallowing down largely, ‘ Sometimes, I don’t think of you anymore,’ She spoke silently to her lost love, hoping he’d forgive her for doing such a thing, because it contradicted every promise of love she’d uttered to him.

‘And it hurts so much...’

“- (f/n),” Steve said again, not saying anything else but that alone and it aggravated her to no end.

It bothered her that he said nothing more than her name, because, the way he said it, the manner in which he spoke to her, furthermore, everything about the man made her heart jump.

He made her feel happy even when she was supposed to feel guilty as though, somehow, what she was doing was right.

“ - I understand just how you feel,” he said gently, “ I know more than anyone how hard it is, and to put it simply... I feel the same way about you.” He continued on, deciding to put an end to thier shared pain.

'NO...NO...NO...' Her head shook, and she pressed her teeth together harshly, grinding them against each other as she took a step back.

“ what do you know!” she questioned him, harsh pants resonating from her, angered by his words, because he couldn't possibly know what she felt. The words of sympathy didn’t easer her, and instead, frustrated her further.

‘You have no right,’ She thought icily, ‘Just who do you think you are?’ She went on.

“What do you know Steve?” she repeated, her voice cracking, the woman so close to tears she shook.

‘How could you ever understand?’ She asked herself.

As he looked at her, his face melted, but instead of growing down south it softened into a gentle melancholy and in his eyes, his beautiful crystallize drops, she could see something else, something that had decided to come out and tease her with their small glimmer, drawing her more towards him.

And the further she continued to gaze at them, she recognized the blue gloom.

Drawing her near was a surfacing of sadness, something that came with loss, and she recognized the sight, pairing it with a recollection of somber nights and true, heartfelt grief, because it was the same look she had the day ‘he’ had died.

It was the same look she wore when she was alone, staring at her haggard reflection, asking herself,

‘ why?’, furthermore wondering if there’d be a day when she could wear a true face of happiness that was meant to show her inner soul, and not please everybody else.

He quieted down, taking in a hearty breath before smiling, and though it was obviously forced, he continued with the expression.

His right hand then reached within his pant pocket to take hold of a small compass, holding it out to her to take, appreciating how tenderly she touched it because the single item meant a lot to him.

staring down at the old, worn equipment she was puzzled before she opened the thing, soon greeted by the picture of a woman in black and white,

‘Who...who is this?’ She asked herself, gazing down at her image with interest, not recognizing the face.

“ Her name was Peggy Carter,” he said softly, saying the name in a loving manner that was dusted over with sorrow, it being the same way she mentioned her own past love, and at that the (h/c) haired young woman brought her eyes back up to the man, looking at him as though she were meeting him for the first time.

"it's been years... too many years since then, and even then, I still think of her.” he admitted. “ the time I spent frozen, it felt like sleep for me. it felt like a nap, really.

That’s what it was for me...just a pause in time. " he explained, " but while I was gone, time didn’t stop for everyone else.” he said before sighing, “ she remained here, and she lived her life. she had her children... her husband,” he said quietly, the last word being said with notable struggle, because it still pained him.

And by then (f/n) felt her gradually heart sink, her earlier words biting her back with vengeance, because she’d barked at him about how much he couldn’t possibly come to understand her pain, all while he had been living through the ache already, all while in silence.

‘Why did you never say anything?’ She wondered to herself, wondering just how he pulled through, having collected himself so much better than she did.

” - she lived that life without me and it's not like I blame her. I could never blame her because I will always love her.

Regardless of everything, I will always think of her, and I will always remember her that way,” he added. "Besides that, I'm happy she didn't wait. I'm grateful she moved on, finding happiness that lasted her much longer than the bit of joy we felt together during our time." He voiced out.

“ she’s still around, but she doesn't remember me anymore, and every day that I go and see her now, I meet her once again, and it breaks my heart,” he confessed with a shuttered breath.

“ it makes my heart ache because I'm too far past the time where I can sit down and I can talk to the Peggy that I knew.

The Peggy that lays in that bed belongs to someone else, and I hope that even if she forgets about me each and every day, she remembers everything she lived with her husband, who I hope gave her everything she deserved.

I'm years too late and I know that nothing can reverse time. And, yeah, I know that I shouldn't keep thinking about it.

I know that I shouldn't keep holding on to her in the way that I do, but it's hard not to,” he admitted.

“ it was hard not to think of her every time my heart bounced, because I instantly thought of her as a natural response, and then I’d imagine her just as she was a long time ago, absolutely stunning.

Her perfect hair, her wonderful smile… her gorgeous eyes. Really, I could go on and on.” he said chuckling.

“ Everything about her was lovely.” He summed up,

“And her voice, I could hear it when I slept. I could hear it when it was quiet, and sometimes, I would catch hints of it when the wind blew, because, I always had her with me,” he said before taking a chance and stepping forward.

“I thought it was going to be that way forever," He confessed, “ And then I met you..."He told her, and as he said that, her heart stilled.

" I met you, and slowly everything that reminded me of her began to shift and I found myself thinking of someone else besides her.

Believe me, I felt awful... I felt like I shouldn't be doing that, like I should always be thinking of her instead. Like, I should always hold on to Peggy, and that by doing otherwise, I was stepping on her memory in the most insulting way I could.” He declared.

“ I tried to distance myself from you, but then, I was just stuck thinking of you even more.

It all happened before I could stop it.

By the time I realized what happened, I was too far gone to go back, and well, I don't know exactly how you feel about me, but I can tell you with certainty that what I feel for you is love.” he said to her, brazenly speaking, holding nothing back.

“(f/n), I'm in love with you and as much as it pains me, it also brightens me to a point that I actually feel happy, not just momentarily, but possibly permanently.

I've fallen in love with you and every day that goes by, I feel like the feeling in my heart, that pounding in my chest grows.

it grows the more I'm with you and when any of us tries to pull back, it burns. it feels like something's being pulled in there to the point that the entire damn muscle is getting torn through the act.” He explained, perfectly describing to her the same feeling that eventually led her back to him.

" I know you're afraid. I know you're confused and I know you don't know what to do anymore because quite frankly, I don't know either. " He talked, running his hand through his blonde hair, his frustration showing with the action.

“- But I am certain that when tomorrow comes I want to be able to see you. I don't want to go forward without telling you this.

I don't want to continue on living without admitting to you that I have fallen so deeply in love with you that I can't let you go.” He confessed.

“ I won’t... “He stubbornly added. “ Because I don't want to spend a future lamenting over something else. I don't want to ever live through that again,” Steve said with certainty.

"So I’m taking the leap.

- People don't always get these types of second chances and I feel lucky. I truly feel like down at the end of the line, it’s you and me. And I'll wait. I'll wait as long as it takes for you to accept it.” He said while looking at her with promise.

she looked at him, her eyes soaking with tears, soon falling down her face in two thin rivers,

‘ It’s love.’ She told herself, ‘It’s taken me so long to just admit it... but Steve...I...’

“I love you,” She breathed, “and It was almost at first sight,” She told him, letting the truth slip through. " I love you,” She said again,

“- But...I'm not ready," she said shakenly, " I’m not ready Steve," she added, shaking her head.

‘I’m still not ready to do this,’

"- It takes time," he said with understanding . " And I don't see myself with anybody else but you, so I’ll wait for as long as it takes,” He admitted, and at that he held out his hand to her, giving her the time she needed.

Looking down at the warm, inviting palm she moved, holding onto it with desperation after all of the initial hesitance.

“ We can take things slow,” He told her, pulling her in and holding her dearly, and while it took her a moment, she melted, soon finding comfort in his body, living through the embrace with what felt like the promise of happiness, as though the best was yet to come.

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ddarker-dreams · 4 years ago

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Levi Ackerman x Reader hcs. [COMM]

a/n: i haven’t written for levi in many years!! some lock lore is that i used to write for him the most, it’s actually what got me into fanfiction/anime in the first place back in 2012... so it feels very nice to write for him again. i had a lot of fun with this! :’) word count: 2k. warnings: non explicit mentions of death (not involving reader), just canon typical stuff.

Love has been a concept that remains closed off in Levi’s mind. Getting close to others is already a risk too great in the world he’s come to know, a factor that’s proven unfortunately true time and time again. When you’re close to others, it means the possibility of being hurt by them all the same when they inevitably leave. The pain of losing another he’s grown attached to outweighs the possible benefits that could come with a closer connection. This philosophy has ensnared his heart, creating a barrier that no one dared slipping past for many years.

Even though Levi makes the choice to be wary of growing closer than necessary to people, he also understands the importance of trusting in his comrades. He has his own way of mentally assessing new recruits, and didn’t think much of you initially. You were a fresh face, who hoped that your efforts would cultivate humanity’s future. He’d seen many with that spark too many times to count. All of them ending up killed in gruesome ways, or losing the shine in their eyes should they live past another expedition. Though he still has an inherent respect for anyone willing to put their lives on the line for the Survey Corps, this extending to you as well.

His initial assessment of you was proven incorrect. While no longer as naive to the horrors of the outside world, the spark inside of you remains ever bright. There’s determination, that has only grown in strength as time goes on, rather than fading away. It catches his eye, to say the least. He looks after you from afar, without even realizing it. Levi tells himself that it’d just be a shame if something happened to you. He doesn’t think anything beyond that for some time, for his own mental well being.

Your relationship starts off with no romantic intentions. Levi spots you training on your own one day, even after a grueling day of menial work that comes with being a member of the Survey Corps. He’s captivated, unable to look away from your form. It’s sloppy, he thinks, but not hopeless. You’re not hopeless. It doesn’t sound like a high compliment, but coming from him, it’s meaningful.

It’s startling when he approaches you for the first time. He’s pointing out the numerous errors in your stance and what to do to correct them, never mincing his words. Levi’s standing there, arms crossed, willing you to continue with his input. While being under the scrutiny of humanity’s strongest soldier is anxiety inducing, his advice works perfectly. He doesn’t comment further than that, turning on his heels and leaving you to your thoughts and confusion.

Keeping your body in the best possible condition is vital to staying alive. His advice, though delivered in sharp as knives critiques, serves you well. Even just the bare minimum has your technique rapidly improving. This motivation to keep growing and learning is what drives you. Levi continues to watch from a safe distance as you spend hours doing different exercises, developing your abilities. From this point on it becomes something of a tradition, as much as he tries not to think of it that way. There’s a level of subconscious attachment that comes with looking forward to seeing you improve every evening. He’s acknowledged you.

You start training together. It’s not everyday an opportunity to learn under Levi is offered, so when the hand was extended to you, you accepted it. He’s a tough yet fair teacher, offering praise only when he believes it’s deserved. Unfortunately, he can’t devote that much time to your little evenings due to his other obligations. That makes the time you shared all the more special. Despite himself, he’s looking out for you, and you him. A solid relationship begins to form.

Levi isn’t the easiest person to be around. He’s surprisingly talkative if you get him speaking on subjects that interest him, but his language remains coarse. Once you get used to this side of him, it’s for the better, hours flying by and the night sky appearing before you know it. Unlike others that tend to get offended or avoid alone time with Levi due to his reputation, you remain constant. He never brings it up, though he does wonder why you’re hellbent on seeking him out.

There are still times where Levi holds an internal battle over the unfolding events. He’s starting to like spending time with you, more than just offering wisdom on various subjects he’s knowledge about. He genuinely enjoys listening when you speak, an honor exclusive to you. Through the snark and monotonous comments, there’s clear attachment.

It gets to the point that his closer comrades even pick up on the unusual behavior, this level of respect typically reserved for no one other than Commander Erwin. Though Hanji is the only one to point this behavior out. Everyone else is too frightened at the prospect of teasing Levi over his not so subtle fondness for you. He really didn’t think he was being so obvious...

You’re on his mind more than he cares to admits. His mind wonders to you at night, when he’s in town, or even when he sees something silly that reminds him of you. Eventually, Levi’s thoughts almost always connect to you to some degree. He’ll spot something in the windows of a shop and recall how you mentioned wanting something similar, or subconsciously look for your favorite food when walking through market stalls. The thought of giving you gifts is off putting for a while since it’s a clear sign of of tenderness. And dammit, he’s trying so hard not to become attached -- but who is he kidding -- it’s far too late for that.

What Levi is good at is making swift decisions in the heat of the moment, and combat. So he has literally no idea how to approach his developing feelings for you. There are a lot of impulses, such as complimenting you, but it comes out more like an insult than anything. God bless your soul, because you’re going to be putting up with lots of uncomfortable interactions. He’s trying, okay, but he doesn’t know the first thing about romance.

How he best shows his care for you is helping around in various ways. It isn’t as embarrassing as having to offer compliments, or the other traditional ways of romancing the person you’re interested in. Levi commits to making your life easier in anyway he can. These things range from making sure your horse is in top condition, setting aside rations if he knows you’re too busy to get them yourself, and checking over your equipment personally. He presents all this by saying “You’re prone to making mistakes, so let me do it instead.” In reality he just wants to make life easier for you, don’t be fooled by the prickly comment.

He isn’t blind to the other elements of his attraction to you. You’re always glowing, an angel incarnate, beauty enough to draw in practically anyone with eyes. It was enough to draw him in after all. The first attempts at physical affection are subtle, yet heartfelt. Sitting closer to you, thighs almost touching. Leaning in closer whenever you speak. Lightly brushing his fingers against his face, claiming he saw a spec of dirt on it. All these things to gauge your reaction and build up his own confidence in pursuing you further.

The first time you kiss would be the night before an expedition. It’s always the most gut wrenching experience, anxiety ailing you so badly that sleep refuses to come. The stars are out, not a cloud in the sky. Levi comes to sit by you, chastising you for not being asleep, and offering no rebuttal when you point out that he’s also awake. It’s a serene moment, neither of you exchanging words for some time, finding comfort in each others presence. You don’t even realize how close he is to you. He speaks, the words insignificant, you’ve already long forgot what they were.

When your head turns to offer him your full attention, that’s when he leans in. A chaste kiss is pressed against your parted lips. It’s shocking to say the least, adrenaline pumping through your veins at the intimate moment. His lips are softer than you expected. He treats you with unprecedented delicacy, moving back to assess your expression through lidded eyes. When you’re willing to reciprocate he’s more than happy to let you have your way.

Levi isn’t the best with expressing himself fully through words. His actions more than compensate for this, you’ll never doubt his dedication to you. There’s no need for flowery prose, not when he has proven the lengths he’d go through to keep you safe, bearing all of himself to you. Your relationship isn’t defined by strict terminology, as he admitted to finding stuff like that “a waste of breath”. You both wordlessly acknowledge one another as partners. Any keen onlooker might be able to pick up on this, you don’t hide or put your relationship on display.

It’ll take some time for him to grow more amiable to physically expressing himself. He’s aware of his own strength and intimidating disposition, and doesn’t want to mess what’s possibly the best thing in his life up. So you’ll need to lead in most of those areas. All physical affection is reserved for private moments. Aside from maybe him whispering a sly remark or two in passing.

The affection he likes receiving from you the most would be: Complimenting his actions, when you lay your head on his shoulder, whenever you do little things to help him out without him mentioning it, and when you hug him. He’s never experienced being held by another human being. So when you do it for the first time, he’s taken aback by how pleasant it is. Your comforting scent, how your warmth envelopes him, and how he can feel your heart beating. It’s one of his favorite things in the world, other than you of course.

The type of affection that he gives you the most would be: Acknowledging your growth in different areas (especially if he knows you’re insecure in one of them), putting his hand over yours, reminding you to take care of yourself, and kissing you on the forehead. Levi is a very proactive lover. He’s got a keen eye, picking up on things about yourself before you even notice them. While he might not always have the most tact, everything he does for you comes from a wholesome place.

Levi remains serious in the public eye. But when it’s just the two of you, or the company is people he’s close with, he loosens up considerably. Most of his jokes go over your head, since he always delivers them with such a deadpan. When he gets you to laugh with his dry wit though, by god does it feel good, he could listen to your laughter forever. It might even make his face heat up.

You’re capable of making him smile more than anyone else! Though it’s still rare, that just means that when he does, you treasure it all the more. He smiles the most when you lose yourself in conversation. Rambling about your dreams, stories from your childhood, frustrating encounters that you had that day... all of it warms his heart in a way he never thought possible. You’re an addicting ray of sunshine, that he’s hellbent on protecting.

Levi knows, now more than ever, what he wants from the future. Alongside protecting and expanding humanity’s territory, it’s you that he wants by him, and no cost is too great to achieve it. He won’t lose you -- he’s already lost so much -- so expect him to be protective. There may be limits to what he can do, but they’re all arbitrary to him. Rules and morality mean nothing in the face of ensuring your safety, and he’s vowed this to you. That one day, you’ll have a secure future, forever tied to each other. He might not mention the last part as it’s embarrassing, but the general sentiment is understood.

#levi #levi ackerman #levi x reader #levi x you #levi ackerman x reader #Attack on Titan Imagine #attack on titan #attack on titan x reader #aot #aot x reader #aot x you #shingeki no kyojin #shingeki no kyoujin x reader #snk x reader #my stuff #commissions

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whumpster-fire · 3 years ago

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Safety in a World of Daemons

So one really scary thing about a world of corporeal daemons is just how vulnerable it makes you. Everyone basically has two bodies, one of which is often much smaller and more fragile than a human body, and a lethal injury to either of them will kill you, and also you can’t be more than a certain distance apart or you’ll suffer excruciating pain / lose consciousness. Now, while Lyra’s world has a decent amount of modern technology like internal combustion engines, electric lighting, plastic textiles (aka coalsilk), and nuclear power (atom bombs and “atomcraft” get mentioned it seems like it’s socially The Good Old Days when child labor was widespread and OSHA didn’t exist. But what safety measures would a more modern society develop to keep humans and daemons safe?

Seatbelts developed and came into wide use earlier in Lyra’s world compared to ours, compared to the development of motorized vehicles. The myth of being “thrown clear” of a crash could never take hold to nearly the same extent, because people may not understand the forces involved in being flung through a windshield and skidding a hundred feet across pavement and the damage that does to your body, but everyone has an intuitive understanding that if your smaller/lighter daemon sitting in the front passenger seat bounces off the windshield, or ends up in the footwell, or gets “thrown clear” a hundred feet across pavement in a different direction, you’re probably going to be lying unconscious in the middle of the road. Cars typically have modular restraint systems to accomodate different daemon forms. Daemons should NOT stand on the dashboard, on the seat headrest, on their human’s shoulder, or on their human’s lap while their human is driving.

The “Drybox.” This is a device which can be used to keep small daemons with non-cold-tolerant forms safe from hypothermia in water survival situations. It’s basically an airtight container or bag you can put your daemon in and seal off, that’s connected to a pair of one-way valves with the inlet valve connected to a mouthpiece. This is meant for situations like airplane (or zeppelin) water landings. The way it works is you breathe in through your nose and breathe out through your mouth into the tube. This will push air out the outflow valve, and completely replace the air in the container in a few breaths. Yes I’m aware that you breathe out CO2 which is toxic. Exhaled air is about 18% oxygen and 4% CO2, and breathing extra rapidly might result in more oxygen and less CO2 in exhaled air. 18% O2 is roughly equivalent to going up 5,000 ft in altitude, and 4% CO2 is below the levels that cause suffocation, so a daemon shouldn’t die from breathing air that’s been through human lungs once for a few hours. It would definitely feel awful to use one, but it’s safer than a daemon in the form of a small animal being soaked to the skin and half-immersed in cold seawater while bobbing up and down in the waves. Some versions can be connected to an oxygen supply or a manual pump instead.

If you are on an airplane or helicopter and the oxygen masks deploy (not a zeppelin, they don’t go high enough to need them), put your own mask on first, and put your daemon’s mask on second before you mess with anybody else’s. If only one of you has oxygen then you’re going to pass out but the one who has oxygen will be functional for a bit longer; therefore it is in your best interests for the one with opposable thumbs to get the mask first. People with monkey daemons please stop arguing with flight attendants about this. If your daemon has a form that can’t easily wear an oxygen mask, there are quick-connect adapters available, as well as containers that a smaller daemon can climb into, but these may be slower to use. In some cases it is best to form a “Buddy system.” If you have a trusted friend or family member seated next to you whose daemon can easily wear an oxygen mask, it may be safer to put their daemon’s mask on before your own to make sure they remain capable of putting your masks on. Yes, you will have to break the taboo to do this, but that’s better than death or brain damage from hypoxia. Some bird forms can get enough oxygen at high elevations that they don’t need a mask. For your safety, most national aviation regulations require that you declare your daemon’s species when purchasing a ticket and only sit in your assigned seat, so that you can be placed in appropriate seating and be provided with any specialized safety equipment you need prior to the flight. Children with unsettled daemons must demonstrate that they have the ability to memorize and follow an evacuation plan that includes changing to an appropriate form.

Daemons have no need to ever wear collars to identify themselves, but it’s surprisingly common to see larger daemons that can’t be carried by their humans wearing a harness and a brightly colored leash. This isn’t a fashion statement, it’s a safety device. Most humans and daemons are always careful to keep track of where each other are, but it’s not foolproof, and when boarding a train, or an elevator, or a bus or streetcar, in a crowded place where you might be distracted and everyone else is distracted, there is a risk of your daemon being caught on the other side of a door from you. If you are boarding or getting off a bus or train or elevator or anything like that, and you see a leash caught in a door, you slam the nearest emergency stop button IMMEDIATELY.

There are a lot of other environments where people and daemons need to be physically strapped or tethered together - e.g. whitewater rafting, boating. If they can’t be attached to your life jacket, then unless they can fly they need to have their own life jacket and be tethered to you, because otherwise getting swept apart by rapids or current could pull you out of range, and falling off a motorboat going at, like, 30 mph or faster could pull you 50+ feet away from them faster than either of you can even react to jump off after each other, and even with a life jacket being in the water and unconscious or incapacitated from pain is really fucking dangerous.

Same goes for climbing. I don’t care how good a climber your cat or squirrel daemon is, or if they can survive massive falls without injury, because if they free-fall five stories then either you will lose your grip and fall, or end up dangling limply from a rope.

Lockout Tagout systems are designed so that anyone accessing dangerous machinery has two keys, one for themselves and one that their daemon has to wear at all times. If your daemon is too small to wear the key, then they have to be in a locked cage that is physically attached to you, and the key to the cage is attached to the lock that you lock out the machine with. Mechanics’ daemons have a habit of crawling into tight spaces to look at things their humans can’t see or reach, or retrieve dropped tools, and at some point at least one idiot took their lock off while their daemon was still in a hazardous area and got a safety regulation made in their honor when somebody else turned on the machine.

Yes, your daemon needs eye/ear/respiratory protection in the shop/construction site. Unless your daemon’s shape completely prevents you from performing essential job functions (like a crocodile daemon and you need to climb ladders) your employer cannot terminate or refuse to hire you based on your daemon’s form, and they are legally required to provide you both with appropriate safety equipment.

#his dark materials fandom #daemons #Fantasy OSHA

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luxekook · 5 years ago

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in too deep ☼ knj

☼ dedication: this fic is a bday present for the loml tay aka tay bay bay aka @interludemoonchild!!!! luv u long time <33 (sorry this isn’t about hobi skksksks)

☼ pairing: marine biologist namjoon x assistant reader

☼ genre: idiots to lovers, fluff, angst, crack

☼ summary: you had always grown up being told tales of terrible jobs with tyrannical bosses. but now, you’re left to wonder why you hadn’t heard more tragic stories of all-too-wonderful jobs with all-too-beautiful bosses... did falling for your boss only lead to heartbreak and a two weeks’ notice? or could it yield the possibility of romance?

☼ word count: 3.1k

☼ warnings: pg15, cursing, chaotic energy, pining, miscommunication, mentions of quitting, lots of sea nerd stuff, namjoon is smart af but an idiot in love, the reader isn’t any better, crabby bois, arguments, completely cheesy fluff, short make out sesh, mention of sex

☼ banner creator: heathy bby @shadowsremedy

☼ beta reader: the amazing and astoundingly talented phia @meowxyoong

“Kim Namjoon!” You cry, swatting the blue-clawed crab away from your feet with a broom, “What did I tell you about bringing your goddamn crustaceans into the office?”

The man in question hustles out of his office looking disheveled, “You’ve seen Carl?” He sinks right down to his hands and knees to peer under your desk. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you, little buddy!”

You stare disappointedly as your boss picks up ‘Carl’ from his hiding place and cradles him to his chest. “Namjoon,” You sigh exasperatedly, folding your arms.

He looks up at you and blushes, “Sorry, Star. I just feel so bad leaving them downstairs at the lab. It’s so lonely and dark down there.”

While your stomach flips at the mention of his nickname for you, your eyebrows furrow in confusion, “Well, why don’t you just stay down there with them?”

“Because you’re up here…” He mumbles something incoherent.

“What?” You lean forwards, your ears straining to catch the garbled syllables.

Namjoon clears his throat, looking everywhere but at you, “Because it’s nicer up here.”

“Don’t tell your investors that,” You laugh, thinking of all the fancy and shiny equipment housed in the aquatics lab a few floors below. Working for a top-tier marine biologist sure had its perks - namely the state of the art kitchen with a full espresso bar.

“Star, I would never!” He looks affronted by the mere mention of such a thing. “Now, apologize to Carl for scaring him.”

You scoff, but just one glance into Namjoon’s sparkling brown eyes makes you crumble instantly. “Fine,” You begrudgingly shoot the crab a look, “Sorry, Carl.”

“See, Carl?” Namjoon croons, “She’s sorry!” As he turns back to you, you can immediately tell he is about to launch into Marine Biologist Mode™.

“Carl is a blue crab - a Callinectes sapidus, to be precise. That scientific name literally means ‘savory beautiful swimmer’.”

“Savory, huh?” You quip, relishing in the scandalized look Namjoon shoots you.

“Don’t listen to her, Carl,” He whispers, stroking a finger gently down the crab’s shell. “Now, where was I? Ah, yes… He’s named for his pretty sapphire-tinted claws, and he’s one of the most harvested species of his kind. So, don’t even think about it.”

You burst out laughing as he eyes you, “Okay, Joon, I’ll leave my pot of boiling water at home.”

Namjoon splutters out a choked laugh, looking at you like you are the most exasperating thing he’s ever come across. And, you probably are.

When you came to work for the distinguished marine biologist four months ago, you found him literally buried beneath piles of research papers, files, and National Geographic magazines. Apparently, he had tripped into his filing cabinet and everything had fallen off of the shelves onto him. The man had been a right mess. It was no wonder he had put an ad out in search of an assistant.

In your new role, you slowly but surely introduced some structure and organization into Namjoon’s life as best you could. The first thing you did was update his office. The man still had an honest to god lava lamp on his desk. You were still baffled at how he had managed not to break the fixture before your arrival.

Swiftly following the disposal of the cursed lava lamp, you ordered new file cabinets - and had them nailed to the wall. Virtually, you did even more. You restructured his online platforms and updated his schedule to include more than just scattered notes like “Meeting at 10AM, i think? Or was it 10PM?”

To his credit, Namjoon adhered to most of your suggestions and changes, but apparently he still refused to grasp the ‘no creatures in the office’ rule.

Overall, Namjoon was a great boss - kind, understanding, sweet, and a tad eccentric. His love for all things sea-related shone through the gentle way he handled his specimens, the passionate tone of voice he used while speaking on any related topic, and the stars in his eyes at the mere mention of discovering a new species.

It had been all too easy to become infatuated with him. Especially when he called you “Star” and left you to interpret the meaning on your own.

You remember the exact moment that you fell in love with him so vividly. It had been last month, just three months into working for him. Namjoon had been going off about fucking sand of all things.

“…Sand speaks of history, of science, of travels. Each grain of sand holds thousands upon thousands of years of movement, of erosion. For example, the beach outside of this building is tan because of the iron oxide tinting the quartz and the feldspar to a light brown color. But, there are other beaches that are black, white and even pink in color! It’s fascinating! And to quote the goddess of marine biology Rachel Carson: "In every curving beach, in every grain of sand, there is a story of the Earth…”

Yeah, you are head over heels for your boss. And that’s why you needed to quit.

The end of the workday arrives too quickly - a common theme it seems when you love what you do and who you work for. Namjoon walks beside you down to the parking lot. You sneak a glance at his face and note that he seems deep in thought.

Your mind slips to the image of you and Namjoon going home together to a shared house overrun with fish tanks and models of sharks. It’s all too easy to picture, and all too painful to acknowledge the impossibility.

“Star,” Namjoon’s voice jolts you from your fantasy. You blink up at him, realizing you’re both stopped beside your adjacent cars. Namjoon smiles at you, “I’ll see you tomorrow? It’ll be Friday, finally...”

It seems like he wants to say more but stops himself for some reason. You pause, waiting for him to continue, but he just blushes and brings a hand to the back of his neck bashfully.

“Yeah, Friday,” Your tone is less enthusiastic. You planned to hand in your two weeks’ notice tomorrow. It’s a complete strategy on your part so that you can have the whole weekend to cry and shove at least one gallon of ice cream down your throat.

You wave goodbye to each other and enter your respective cars. You watch Namjoon pull out of the parking lot before you and pause to rest your forehead on your steering wheel. You were so screwed.

Twenty-four exhausting hours later, you find yourself with your fist poised over Namjoon’s wooden office door. Are you actually doing this? Are you really going to quit the only job you’d ever loved?

Yes, you are. You love Namjoon too much to stay here surrounded by his charisma and his beauty. You love him too much to try to complicate his workspace, his sacred ground. You love him too much to ask him to blur the lines of colleague and lover.

You need to leave - for his sake and for yours. It isn’t like he still needs you. He has been following your routine with vigor and always keeps his office organized now. Your tasks have been dwindling for weeks.

It’s time to move on. God, even the tension today had been off the charts with you and Namjoon skirting around each other like you were both walking on eggshells. Clearly, he is also feeling like you are in the way.

With that in mind, you straighten your shoulders and finally knock on the door.

Your ears strain for any sign of an answer. Your breath catches in your throat as you try to sustain the meager amount of courage you had mustered up inside you. Twisting open the handle, you push the door open and are immediately met with an empty office. Damn, he must be downstairs.

You chuckle at the sheer idiocy of your panicked state over knocking on an empty office door.

This is perfect anyways. You can hand Namjoon your two weeks’ and then evacuate the building in one sweep. Shutting down your computer and grabbing your things, you trudge out of the room and towards the stairs.

The journey downwards seems akin to walking the plank as you take each step slowly, dreading the inevitable.

Ciara has it all wrong: you do not love it when you One, Two Step.

The entrance to the lab looms overhead. The steel double doors look more like the gateway to hell rather than a nice entrance to a marine facility. You don’t break your stride as you march through the doors. If you had, you might not have kept going.

The familiar light humming of the tank filters meets your ears as you peer around the rows of shelves containing colorful fish and scuttling critters.

“Joon?” You call, the nickname slipping past your lips before you can stop it.

“Back here, Star!” His answer sounds from the very back of the lab. Of course, that’s where the crabs are housed.

You make your way past the tanks of clownfish and the pools of stingrays to where Namjoon sits hunched over the shallow tank containing four green-tinted crabs.

“That’s it, Nala.” Namjoon croons as the smallest of the four crabs swims around the tank, “You show your brothers how fast you are.”

“Talking to your subjects again, boss?” You can’t help but tease the man you've grown to love as he fawns over his work.

Namjoon blushes slightly and nods, pushing his glasses up to rest on the bridge of his nose, “Studies have shown that it helps them develop.”

“I thought that was humans?” You say, shifting your weight back and forth. The letter in your hand seems to burn more each second you hold onto it. You couldn't take it anymore.

As Namjoon opens his mouth to reply, you thrust the letter into his chest and say, “Never mind. This is for you. Please read it later.”

With that, you fast-walk your way back to the entrance of the lab. The sound of the envelope tearing open only forces you faster. Fuck, it had been idiotic of you to assume that he would actually listen to you and open it later. Namjoon is as impatient as they come. Of course he wouldn't wait.

“Star!” His strangled call startles you, “What is this?”

“We can talk about it on Monday!” You reply, somehow already close to tears. Why is this godforsaken lab so big? You pace down the aisles of tanks and breathe a sigh of relief as the exit comes into view.

Then, Namjoon comes barreling around the corner, cutting off your escape. The man looks baffled as he clutches your written resignation in his hands. His chest heaves as he holds the torn pages out towards you, “What. Is. This. Star?”

You bristle. I guess we’re doing this now, you thought. Stiffening your shoulders, you muster all the false bravado you can manage, “It’s my two weeks’ notice, Namjoon. I’m sure a smart guy like you can read.”

“Okay, allow me to rephrase,” Namjoon stalks towards you, tossing the crumpled letter over his shoulder. “Why did you give me this?”

“The letter explains everything,” Your eyes dart around, both in search of a viable escape and in avoidance of his intensity.

“Sure it does,” He scoffs, his eyes blazing with disbelief. “I want to hear it from you.”

Your back hits the cool glass of the tank behind you. You’re trapped between the contrasting temperatures of the water and Namjoon’s body.

“Joon,” Your voice shakes, “You don’t need me anymore. You’ve done everything I've asked of you and then some. You’re organized. You’re on time. You’re put together. I barely have enough tasks now to fill a day, let alone a week. It’s time to move on.”

“Time to move on?” Namjoon echoes before barking out a humorless laugh, “I don’t need you anymore? That’s really what you think, Star?”

“Don’t call me that.” The nickname snufs out any trace of fight left inside you, and you plead, “Just let me go, Joon.”

“Never,” He growls.

“I don’t understand what you’re not getting,” You sigh, exasperated and drained, “You’ve surpassed my expectations and erased the need for my position. I think the saying ‘the student has become the master’ applies here.”

Namjoon gapes at you before he snaps, “You’re the one who’s not getting it! Have you ever considered that the student might just be in love with the teacher?”

Joon rakes a hand through his hair as you become the one to gape open mouthed at the frustrated man.

He continues, “I wake up earlier every damn day because I can’t wait to see you at work. I organize all of my things because I just want to see you smile at me when you notice. I spend an hour each night picking out what to wear the next day because I want to impress you… Don’t you see? Everything I do is for you, is because of you. I want to be the best version of myself for you.”

Your mind struggles to compute the seemingly impossible notion that the object of your affections returns your love. “Did you,” You gasp out, “Just say that you loved me?”

“Yes, you complete jellyfish! I love you. I am in love with you! And it’s not like it’s not obvious! I call you ‘Star’ because you are my starfish, my sea star. You are the one who keeps the balance to my ecosystem of chaos. You are the key species that keeps everything afloat.”

“And you thought that was obvious?” You yell back at him, “How on earth would I immediately have known the intense analysis behind your nickname for me, Namjoon the science buffoon?” You huff, scrambling to process the amount of information that had just been thrown at you.

He needed you?

He loved you back?

He nicknamed you after a fucking marine invertebrate?!

Namjoon blinks in surprise, “Did you just insult me with a Bill Nye pun?” You don’t deign to give him a response. Namjoon chuckles before grinning sheepishly, “Okay, fine. You make a good point.”

“I know I do,” You pout. “You can’t just spring this on me, Joon. Why haven't you told me this before?”

“Because I was nervous that you would leave me, that you wouldn't return my feelings. Obviously, the first point is moot. What about the second?”

“You’re asking if I love you back?” Your body sags against the tank behind you, “How could I not, you crab-loving, walking mess of a—”

Namjoon captures your mouth with his, kissing you with fervor. His hands wind their way up to cradle your face between them like you are the most precious thing to him.

Pulling back slightly, Namjoon rasps out, “So, you’ll stay?”

“Hm, I don’t know,” You crack a wry smile, “What’s in it for me?”

“Well, let me show you,” Namjoon replies before whipping his shirt off. You gape open mouthed at the expanse of beautiful tan skin in front of you.

Was that a hint of a tattoo swirling over his left shoulder?

He reaches down to tug at the hem of your dress, insinuating he wants it off. A nice concept in theory; however, with one look around at your surroundings, you slap his hand away. “Namjoon! Not in front of the fish!”

“But, Star, these aren’t fish! These are squid, and they are classed as cephalopods—”

You put a hand over his mouth, “Allow me to clarify: I will only fuck in a creature-free zone.”

Namjoon murmurs something beneath your palm. You give him a warning look before removing your hand. He immediately repeats himself, “My office?”

Your eyes narrow, “I know for a fact you have at least three crabs in there.”

Namjoon pauses, looking suspiciously shifty, “There are only seven…”

You wait for it.

“...teen.” He finishes.

“Kim Namjoon!”

Two Years Later

The short walk down the aisle ends too quickly as you find yourself standing in front of a teary-eyed Namjoon. Five of his friends stand behind him in a row, while the sixth stands proudly as the officiant.

They really are out here looking like a whole boy band, you muse. But, you only have eyes for their leader.

Namjoon stands before you, all tall and handsome in his tux; and as Officiant Jin™ begins the ceremony, you can't help but wonder how you got so lucky.

Finally, the ring exchange is introduced dramatically by Seokjin who spouts something about circles and never ending love. “Let us now have the rings brought forward and presented by the ring-bearer!” He booms, raising his arms up like he is summoning a great force.

Ring-bearer? You rake your mind for a prior mention of a ring-bearer… You thought Yoongi as the best man would have the rings.

Suddenly, Namjoon produces a silver whistle from his pocket and blows it once. You stare at your soon-to-be husband like he has sprouted another head.

And then you hear it: the sound of legs and claws scuttling across the floor towards the altar.

“Tell me that is not what I think it is,” You whisper-yell over to Namjoon, who looks way too pleased for your liking.

Your fears and exasperations come true as Namjoon swoops down to pick up Carl who has two shiny rings tied to his shell with a ribbon.

“Oh, Kim Namjoon,” You sigh as you watch him remove the rings from Carl and hand the crab off to a disgruntled Taehyung, “What am I going to do with you?”

“You’re going to marry me,” Namjoon grins.

And marry him you did.

a/n: jellyfish have no brains, lolz. idk why making joon call the reader a jellyfish made me crack tf up but IT DID.

#bangtanhq #ficswithluv #btswriterscollective #btswritingcafe #hyunglinenetwork #kwritersworldnet #bangtanarmynet #btsbookclub #btsnoonanet #hyungsmutsociety #maknaesmutsociety #bangtanscenery #kim namjoon x reader #namjoon x reader #knj x reader #bts #namjoon fanfic #bts fanfic #happy bday tay!!!!!

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