#this is late I'm sorry it was supposed to be day 5 piece

[izels-writing]

j. potter — 5 times james showed you he loved you + the 1st time he said it

Pairing: james potter x childhood best friend!fem!reader

Summary: james is in love with you, as you are with him.

Warnings: longer than usual, FLUFFF, a bit specific (y/n have a big family and nut allergy), a break up (not james ), confession scene is bad but i feel that’s what childhood best friend love confession would look like😭, ALSO I USED A LITTLE DIALOGUE FROM GILMORE GIRLS AND B99 BC I JUST HAD TO OKAY IT WAS FUNNY

a/n: i tried so hard with this one, pls tell me if u like it! it’s a bit different than my usual writing

august 12th, 1969:

"what're you two doing?" euphemia potter asked, a small smile gracing her lips as she noticed you and james sat across each other on his bedroom floor.

you placed your piece down, grinning at james' utter disappointment as you took his piece in the process. he groaned.

"we're playing muggle chess," he told his mother. "and y/n's beating me!"

you smiled. "i told him it wasn't as easy as he thought!" you countered, noticing euphemia's chuckle.

"well, it's getting late you two," she said. "i don't suppose you two expect to be up until the wee hours playing this game," though she tried to be stern, you and james knew how incapable she was when it came to the two of you.

"mum! we're nine now! can't we just have a little bit longer? nine o'clock it too early," james complained. "how about ten thirty?"

euphemia crossed her arms in thought. "how about ten o'clock?"

"ten-twenty," james countered.

"ten-fifteen," euphemia concluded, "take it or leave it,"

"we'll take it!" you exclaimed. james nodded in agreement, though, he always agreed with whatever you said.

you supposed that was part of the best friends thing.

you and james had been best friends since you were five years old, when your parents inherited the house next door to his—which was a blessing given the large family you had. three brothers, two sisters, and you—making a total of six kids. your three bedroom apartment wasn't cutting it anymore at that point.

so, to escape your loud and obnoxious family, you often spent all of your time at the potters. it helped that you and james didn't go to school, given euphemia taught you at home. out of all of your siblings, only you and two of your brothers had inherited magic. whereas the rest of them had to attend muggle school, you, james, and your two brothers were homeschooled by euphemia.

and everyone knew since the day you moved in, you and james were inseparable.

"alright then, either of you fancy a snack?" euphemia asked. "i don't want either of you eating too late,"

"no, thank you, mrs. potter," you replied with a small smile.

"yeah, we're okay mum, thank you," james added.

"of course," euphemia grinned. she eerily looked like a girl version of james when she did grinned, you supposed that's why you found her so comforting. "and y/n, dear, how many times have i told you to call me mia?"

you smiled sheepishly. "i'm sorry, i can't,"

and truthfully, as much as you tried, it felt way to disrespectful to call her by her name and not mrs. potter.

"yeah," james snickered, "she's got this weird compulsion where she has to be perfect and respectful all the time," james taunted.

"shut up," you laughed, shoving james gently.

"alright, well, ten-fifteen...alright?" she looked at you both warningly.

"yes ma'am," you and james chorused, but as soon as she left, you two burst into a fit of laughter.

even if lights were out by ten-fifteen, you two would still be awake all hours of the night laughing and talking about seemingly nothing.

you let him play his turn, smiling as he made a rookie mistake. you quickly showed him how bad his mistake was.

"y/n!" he groaned.

"face it, potter," you sighed. "i'm just better..."

he rolled his eyes and shoved the pillow in his lap at your face. you, being you, caught it with a laugh and threw it aside. analyzing the board as he went to make his next move.

he'd never admit he let you win just so he could see the smile on your face when you did.

——

march 15th, 1996:

"stop painting her nails and help me find an outfit!" sirius exclaimed. "moony won't wait forever!"

james looked up from your hand as you both turned to look at sirius. though he'd never admit it aloud, james loved painting your nails ever since you forced him to do it the first time because your hands were too shaky.

"red shirt, leather jacket, and..." you squinted before turning to james to let him decide what pants your lovesick friend should wear.

"black jeans," he decided. you nodded in agreement.

"thank you, mr. and mrs. potter," sirius sighed, pulling out the exact clothes you two had picked out. "finally you pay attention to me,"

his nickname for you both made you shift slightly, as it always did. not that either of them noticed.

"don't be dramatic, sirius," you replied, rolling your eyes. "painting nails is tedious work,"

"you're tedious work," sirius grumbled, quickly changing. the boys had no qualms changing in front of you despite the fact that you were a girl, they'd known you as long as they'd known james—given you were a package deal when you got to hogwarts.

"how are you two planning to spend the afternoon?" he asked, making conversation as he finished up his eyeliner.

"napping," you replied. you had pulled the longest study session ever last night, and still had to wake up in time for classes. to say you were tired was an understatement.

james didn't like naps as much as you, but he laid with you until you fell asleep because he was so warm. you practically forced him to.

"cuddle session?" sirius asked, ruffling his hair in style.

"that's the one," james replied, finishing your last nail.

"it never ceases to amaze me how close you two are without being in love," sirius chuckled before slipping on his shoes. "anyway, bye...don't wait up for me and moony," he winked before closing the door behind him.

he wasn't entirely truthful. sirius knew about your long haboured crush in james since your third year of hogwarts. at first, you were convinced it was just teen hormones and it'd wear off.

it did not.

if anything, it got worse ever since then. you couldn't be near the boy without smiling and you certainly spent most of your time with him if not with mary or the other boys you two had befriended. he just understood you, he was your person.

the worst part was that you knew he didn't feel the same. you'd known since your first year about his undying love for lily evans, which had progressed so much more over the years.

you supposed you'd get over it eventually.

you scoffed. "look at him, flaunting what we don't have—remus,"

"i know, the utter torture knowing remus will never be ours," he sighed sarcastically. you laughed,

he lied down, arm behind his head which flexed all the right muscles. meanwhile you blew at your nails to make them dry faster. you marveled at the beautiful pink color, perfectly done by your best friend.

"you can take the girl out of the muggle world, but not the muggle world out of the girl," james teased before grabbing his wand and waving it wordlessly. in an instant, your nails were fully dry.

you scoffed. "please, you love the muggle world,"

he grinned. "yeah, i do," he shrugged.

you lied beside him, curling up into him to wrap your arms around his waist and your legs around his hips. it wasn't always the most comfortable position for him, but he put up with it for you, unbeknownst to you. you lied your head on his shoulder, breathing in his aromatic cologne.

you never understood why you tortured yourself like this. you knew these moments would just make you fall harder for him, but you couldn't help yourself. even if he'd never be your boyfriend, at least you had him in your life.

"alright, see you in two hours," you mumbled, adjusting your head comfortably.

"i'll be here," he sighed in fake annoyance. "waiting..."

"shut up," you muttered sleepily.

a few movements later, he smiled softly as you began to snore quietly. he kissed your head ever so softly, as to not wake you, pushing hair out of your face.

he really did hate naps.

but not the ones with you.

——

september 22nd, 1974:

the five of you sat in the greats hall, piling your plates as everyone chattered during their dinner. you laughed at whatever sirius said, waiting for remus to let go of the spoon for the macaroni bowl.

"pads, wipe your mouth," james scolded, handing the friend in question a cloth. sirius rolled his eyes and grabbed it, wiping his mouth aggressively.

"happy?" the grey-eyed got asked in feign annoyance.

you laughed as james rolled his eyes and nodded.

"y/n, do you want some?" peter asked, showing you a plate of fruit bars with nuts in it.

"do you want her to die?!" james exclaimed, though it was drowned out by the loudness of the great hall.

you, sirius, and remus exchanged looks. james took all of you guys' allergies seriously, but for some reason, with yours he became scandalized. you took a deep breath, sending an apologetic look toward peter.

james scoffed. "does she look like snivellus to you?"

peter blinked at him.

"does she?" james demanded. the four of you didn't know whether he was genuinely being serious.

"no...?" peter replied.

"then why are you trying to poison her?!" he snapped.

peter sighed, remembering your allergy suddenly. "i'm sorry, y/n," he said. "i forgot,"

"it's okay," you replied with a small smile.

james glared at peter.

"what?!" peter exclaimed. "i said sorry! it's not like i shoved it down her throat!"

"shame on you, wormy," he shook his head.

"james, believe it or not," you said. "i'm a big girl, i can just tell peter no when he offers,"

"it's about principle, y/n!" he replied.

"and you call yourself one of her best friends," james scoffed, shaking his head at peter again.

"james, if you don't stop, i'll put normal milk in your cereal, you lactose-intolerant freak," peter threatened.

remus sighed. "one peaceful dinner, it's all i ask," he grumbled. sirius rubbed his arm comfortingly.

you laughed loudly, making the other four turn to you. quickly, the rest of them broke and laughter filled the table. quickly, remus, sirius, and peter resumed their own conversation—leaving you to talk to james.

"thanks for remembering, it's very kind of you," you admitted to him lowly. "even though you're such a drama queen about it," you taunted.

"of course, i actually know you," he whispered back. "not like these posers,"

you laughed, shoving him playfully. "you're such a loser,"

"takes one to know one," he fired back.

you rolled your eyes and joined in the conversation in front of you, grabbing a cookie and breaking it in half. without breaking your conversation, you handed one half to james and began to eat the other.

he smiled at you and ate his half.

of course he remembered everything about you. how could he not? you were going to be in his life for the rest of it. that he was sure of.

——

june 12th, 1975:

you sniffled, wiping your nose on a tissue as you went through your various polaroids. your boyfriend, well ex-boyfriend now, had broken up with you a couple hours ago. as much as you tried not to cry over a boy, especially one that wasn't your best friend, you couldn't help but feel hurt nonetheless.

you liked him. and he just made a bet to date you for five months.

mary, marlene, emmeline, and lily had tried to comfort you but to no avail. you asked them to leave you be and they complied, silently agreeing to get the one person who they all knew could comfort you.

you held back a sob, cutting up the pictures and discarding them in the dorm trash. god, you felt pathetic. he wasn't worth it. but it still hurt.

a knock at the door caught your attention.

"come in," you sniffled, thinking it was one of the girls trying to get to your shared room that you selfishly kicked them out of. you hated crying in front of people.

a tall, lean raven-headed boy entered the room. he held a box of tissues and a buttload of snacks. he set everything down on your desk, eyes scanning you sadly.

"he dated me on a bet, james," you sniffled as your voice wavered slightly. "he broke up with me this morning,"

you met his eyes, seeing how worried he looked, and got shoved your face into your hands—a quiet sob escaping your lips, muffled by your hands.

"i'm so sorry, love," he mumbled, sitting in front of you to pull you into a hug. you hugged him back tightly, crying quietly into his shoulder. you felt terrible for his tear-stained shoulder, but the tears wouldn't stop.

you just felt so pathetic and used. how could you fall for it so easily? but you suppose if there was anyone you could be vulnerable with, it was your best friend in the entire world.

"why didn't he like me?" you mumbled tearfully.

"because he's an idiot," james replied, holding you tightly. "because he doesn't know what a great girl is even if it slapped him in the face,"

you let go. "how could i be so stupid? i mean i should've known! in all my five years at hogwarts, no boy has ever asked me out... i should've trusted my gut," you shook your head disappointedly.

"you're not stupid," james assured you. "he is, don't get it twisted. you liked him, there's nothing wrong with that, he just happened to be a prat,"

you frowned. "i suppose. but i mean i should've known..."

james cupped your face, looking into your eyes. "listen to me, y/n," he said seriously. "you are the most beautiful girl i know, you're smart and kind and funny and understanding...i could go on and on. he lost a great girl and he will pay for it for the rest of his life, do not feel pathetic and upset over some stupid bloke—got me?"

you let a smile grace your face. "you think i'm beautiful?"

he huffed and let go of your face, though you could see his playful expression. "is that really the only thing you got from that?"

you shook your head. "no, i heard you loud and clear," you admitted with a small smile. "thank you, j, you're the ultimate best friend,"

he grinned. "i know, it's a talent,"

you rolled your eyes. without you having to say anything, he grabbed the snacks and began to open them up for you, the both of you beginning to eat from the packages of snacks.

"am i more beautiful than farrah fawcett?" you asked teasingly.

"don't push your luck," he huffed.

you let out a melodic laugh and instantly, a smile spread across james' face. that's all he wanted, was to make you laugh.

the very next week, your ex boyfriend ended up in the hospital wing after a few humiliating yet harmless hexes being cast on him. unfortunately, all four marauders received detention for something they had very obviously done.

james didn't care. he'd go through millions of detentions if it meant protecting you.

——

may 27th, 1976:

a thousand used tissues and a finished vial of cold medicine later, you had only gotten through the first five chapters of your potions book. despite your efforts, you hadn’t made much progress in the years worth of material you were set to cover. exams were in two weeks and you were much more behind than you had realized. you had no time to recover, not when o.w.l’s determined what classes you received next year.

your eyes drooped as you turned the page, leaning your head in your hand tiredly. you weren’t even sure you were retaining anything anymore, just studying so you could say you had done it.

lily and mary had left you some time ago, tired themselves. they had begged you and pleaded for you to join them in your dorm, so you could sleep off the medicine. you were the only one sick—just your luck.

you refused and moreover, begun to ignore them. they didn’t take it personally, they knew how you could get around exam time. they muttered that they’d come back to check on you soon. that had been four hours ago, and you were happy that they seemingly weren’t going to come back any time soon.

a loud clatter across the library made you sit up from your medicine-potion-induced trance. your eyes opened wider, scanning the dark library for any movement. madam pince had left two hours ago, given the library had closed and she had no idea you were back here.

“hello?” you whispered, mentally cursing yourself for the stupid mistake. if there was someone here, like a teacher, you surely had just given yourself away.

thankfully for you, it wasn’t a teacher or staff member. instead, it was your best friend.

“y/n? what’re you doing here? it’s twelve-a.m.!” james whispered loudly, moving the books that had blocked your view effortlessly. he kneeled by you on the chair, your body relaxing as you realized it was him.

“baking a cake,” you replied sarcastically. “what does it look like i’m doing, potter?”

“first of all, you know last names hurt me,” james replied. “secondly, you look like shit,”

he felt your forehead. “and you feel like shit,”

“wow, you sure know how to charm a lady, james,” you replied with a playfully eye roll. “don’t worry, i’m on my way back to the dorms, just twenty more minutes,”

james gave you a deadpan look. “mary and lily told me you said that four hours ago,”

so that’s who revealed your location. the traitors.

“james, i have to study! i can’t just not pass my potions o.w.l’s?” you replied.

james sat on the chair diagonal to you, looking at your very obviously sick form. it had to be some strain of the summer flu, given remus had gotten it just a week prior.

“to quote my mother, you have to sleep—it’s what keeps you beautiful,” he tried persuasively. you were not nothing if not vain.

you scoffed. “who’s gonna cares about beauty if i fail my finals?!”

“your future husband?” james tried.

“i won’t be marrying anyone that vain,” you concluded.

“that should make me feel better,” he replied. “but you working yourself to death does not,”

“okay, you can study for twenty more minutes,” he sighed after a moment of you staring at each other. “i’ll go make you a tea and wait with you to make sure you actually come to bed,”

you rolled your eyes and waved him off, returning to your potions textbook in no time. james quickly ambled out of the library and made his way to the kitchen.

thankfully for him, filch was on leave for a few days, not that anyone knew that. he had walked into a particularly nasty prank by james and sirius, leaving him stuck in the hospital wing for a few days. all the staff elected to not tell students, in hopes it’d scare them into not sneaking out at night.

james quickly made his way back to the kitchen, asked the house elves for a tea, and began making his way back. it was in a tiny coffee to go cup—why the house elves had them, james had no idea, but it certainly made his life easier.

he couldn’t have been gone more than a ten minutes, but as james got back, he quickly noticed the angle of the light from your wand was not the same as it had been when he left. james quietly made his way over and smiled warmly at the sight.

there you were, head lying on the table, hands tucked into your sweatshirt in attempts to be warm. you were sound asleep, the potion having finally caught up to you. granted, james was just glad the amount you had drank hadn’t killed you—as he was sure it wasn’t safe at all to finish a vial in one day.

he walked over and summoned a blanket with the flick of his wand, allowing for his hand to catch it immediately. he placed the tea down on the table. then, he pushed the hair out of your face and draped the cover over you, kissing your head gently as he had felt you do to him so many times.

he wrapped it around you and with one swift motion, he wrapped an arm around your knees and another around your neck—cradling you close to his chest. you woke for a moment, brief and unaware, to wrap your arms around his neck. he tried to fight the nerves that twisted in his stomach at your touch.

and all the way from the library to the common room, james held you tight and carried you all the way back, careful not to wake you. you were burning up, but other than that, you looked comfortable. much more comfortable than before.

the fat lady, without a word, swung open when she saw james and he safely brought you inside—laying you down on the couch. you stirred a bit and looked up at him through half-lidded eyes.

“thanks, j,” you whispered.

“of course,” he grinned, sitting beside you, moving your legs on his lap. “now get some sleep, i’ll wait here with you,”

“you’re a good best friend,” you mumbled through a yawn.

james smiled and kissed his fingers, gently placing them on your head. you smiled happily and fell asleep in no time.

he only wished that one day he’d be more than just your best friend.

——

october 11th, 1977:

you sat in front of james on his bed, finishing up an essay you two had worked on together. the entire day, no—the entire week, he’d been acting strange. james was usually strange, but not this strange. he had been gentler and his face would burn up whenever sirius mentioned his little nickname for both of you.

it was beginning to scare you. what if he was becoming uncomfortable with the jokes? the nicknames? what if he had a girlfriend and he didn’t know how to tell you that your relationship with each other would have to change? how would you even react to that?

you looked up at him, noticing the boy wringing his hands. despite this, you said nothing. maybe you could live in denial just a little longer.

“i have something to tell you,” james spoke suddenly.

you looked up, eying him carefully. “what’s up, j?”

james’ face flushed a light pink as he looked up at you sincerely. he swallowed thickly. for a moment, he stared at you. you both just looked into each others eyes and you were unsure what to do next. he’d never been this serious with you.

“you alrig—“

“i love you,” he blurted. “as more than a best friend,”

you would like to say that what you did next was completely intentional, but it wasn’t. as a matter of fact, you weren’t quite sure where it came from.

THUD!

you covered your mouth, looking in shock as james landed on the ground. he wasn’t terribly hurt, just shocked. you were shocked as well.

“that is…not what i expected,” james muttered, standing up and sitting in front of you again.

“what was that for?” he asked.

“i dunno…” you mumbled. “i panicked, i didn’t know what to say…”

james softened his gaze at you and a smile curled onto his lips. soon enough, you began to smile too. and then you both burst into laughter. after you both sobered up, you smiled at him.

“i love you too, as more than a best friend,” you finally replied. it felt like a weight lifted off your shoulders—you finally confesses your biggest secret to james. “just so you know,”

he smiled. “i’m glad to hear that,”

“wow, what a loser,” you commented playfully. “usually this is the scene where the guy kisses the girl,”

he grinned. “really? sort of like this?”

he pulled you in, your lips touching quickly. if this is what heaven felt like, you understood why everyone wanted to go so bad. you pulled him closer, refusing to break the kiss.

you broke apart finally. “yeah…like that,” you grinned.

“will you…?” james stumbled on his words.

you grinned, knowing him perfectly enough to know exactly what he’s asking. “yes, james, i will be your girlfriend,” you replied happily.

he smiled, pulling you in again.

he’d finally confessed it.

bonus;

“what’re you two doing?” you grinned, leaning against the doorway of your son harry’s room.

he threw down a card, glaring at ginny as she placed down her own card with a smirk.

“we’re playing uno,” ginny replied with a smile. “ron didn’t want to play so harry and i decided to go against each other,”

“how is it a muggle game and she’s beating me?! she’s never even played before!” harry exclaimed.

“you underestimate weasley’s,” ginny grinned. “we’re not as ignorant as you think,”

“well, it’s getting late you two,” you commented, glancing at the clock in harry’s room. “i don’t suppose you two plan on playing until the wee hours,”

“mum! we’re thirteen now!” harry groaned. “we can stay up a little later than nine-thirty, right?”

ginny nodded and shrugged. “i mean i’m twelve, but still…”

you sighed in feign annoyance. “fine, ten-fifteen, and then ginny will go sleep in your sisters room and you and ron will have to go to bed—sound good, you two?”

“but—“ harry began.

you smirked. your son—ever the clone of james potter, your husband. “let me rephrase, ten-fifteen, take it or leave it,”

“we’ll take it!” ginny replied quickly.

“yeah, we will,” harry smiled, glancing at ginny with a little glint in his eyes. you and james knew full well the future of harry and ginny’s relationship, even if no one else did.

“good, ten-fifteen,” you said warningly before making your way downstairs.

james lounged on the couch, clicking through tv channels. you curled up beside him.

“they’re doing the thing,” you commented, knowing james would know exactly what you meant.

“remember when we were that young and in love?” james grinned.

“aren’t we still young and in love?” you teased.

“not that young anymore, but in love? yes,” he replied with a smirk. you rolled your eyes and kissed his cheek, wrapping your arms around his chest and draping your legs across his lap.

“i’m glad it’s ginny, she’s a bold little lady,” your husband grinned. “just the other day, she defended your son against this kid at the little league quidditch try-outs, even punched his nose,”

“i know, harry came home and told me all about it,” you grinned. “all impressed and admiring, even ron saw how in love he looked,”

“well, we potter men love ballsy ladies,” james joked.

you rolled your eyes. “don’t i know it…”

[larluce]

Arthur and Merlin travel back in time without knowing the other is from the future too AU

Tagging @aceauthorcatqueen , @fallenxjas , @smileytrinity ,@lucifertookmyshoe , @an-entity-i-think , @thecornerofbelu , @griffonskies , @odinjm , @cinnabon-sweetroll-tiramisu , @thelady-mary , @bennedict , @nightninjaboy , @st8-of-grace Thank you for your beautiful comments! And for the ones that gave me ideas, trust me, I'm taking them into account ;)

LINKS TO THE OTHER PARTS OF THIS AU HERE: PART 1 , PART 2 , PART 3 , PART 4 , PART 5 , PART 6 , PART 7 , PART 8 (You're here) , PART 9

A little more of "The Dragon's Call"

Arthur: (at the feast waiting anxiously because Merlin is supposed to save him from "Lady Helen" to become his servant today and he isn't there yet)

Uther: Are you alright, Arthur?

Arthur: (too quickly) Yeah, right, excelent, never better.

Uther: You've been acting strange lately.

Arthur: (thinking) Well it's not easy to act normal around your dead father and your dead sister who wanted you dead. (says) I just haven't been sleeping well. I had... nightmares. Very long nightmares.

Uther: I see... (Thinking) I hope Morgana's condition isn't contagious.

Merlin: (Finally arrives with Gaius at the feast)

Arthur: (turns and his eyes find Merlin's almost immediately)

Merlin: (Thinking, while he looks at Arthur in the distance) Why is he looking at me like that? Do I have something on my face?

Arthur: (Noticing Merlin is without his neckerchief, and he is so young and so beautiful, and he doesn't have his neckerchief on!) Gods have mercy!

Morgana: (enters in her breathtaking dress)

Merlin: (stares at her, but with a mix of longing and guilt)

Gwen: She looks great, doesn't she?

Merlin: (smiling sadly) Yeah...

Gwen: Some people are just born to be queen.

Merlin: (almost shouting) NO!

Gwen: There's no need to sound so disturbed.

Merlin: (composing himself) I'm sorry just... I think she could do better than Arthur that's all. (Thinking) And with someone that is not her brother.

Gwen: He's not so bad.

Merlin: (confused cause Gwen was supposed to agree with him) What do you mean? He was bullying a servant only a few days ago!

Gwen: I remmember. You confronted him about it.

Merlin: See? A total prat.

Gwen: And he also recognised his mistake and apologised. And he didn't arrest you for insulting him in front of his knights though that's technically treason.

Merlin: Okay, maybe not a total prat, but still a prat. (Thinking, worried) He was too nice indeed. Perhaps I was too harsh on him this time?

Morgana: (seeing Arthur is watching in Merlin and Gwen's direction) Have your eye on someone?

Arthur: (Cold) No.

Morgana: (playfully) Is it Gwen? or perhaps-

Arthur: Let's sit. Lady Helen will arrive at any moment (goes to his sit)

Morgana: ... Sure (thinking, while she goes to her sit) What's wrong with him?

Uther: (making an announcement) We have enjoyed 20 years of piece and prosperity....

Arthur: (thinking, resentfully) 20 years of genocide and lies.

Uther: ...It has brought to the kingdom and myself many pleasures but few can compare to the honor of introducing Lady Helen of Mora.

Lady Helen: (enters while people clap)

Arthur: (looks at Merlin in the distance)

Merlin: (very concentrated with his eyes on the chandelier, waiting for lady Helen to stand under it)

Arthur: (smiling to himself, thinking) So that's how you did it.

Everyone falls asleep, except for Arthur who does feel sleepy but is still slightly awake for some reason, so he gets to witness when all the room is filled with spiderwebs and Merlin uses his magic to make the chandelier fall over Helen, who is soon reveal to be Mary Collins.

Arthur: (confused) What... (thinking) Why didn't I fall completely asleep?

Merlin: (whose magic hasn't been able to freeze time since he traveled back in time, but he doesn't know why) Come on, come on! (Tries again to stop time but doesn't work) Damn it! (Shouts and runs to Arthur) ARTHUR!

Mary Collins: (throws the knife at Arthur)

Merlin: (covers Arthur with his body on time and the knife stabs his back)

Arthur: (horrified) NO! (Holding Merlin as they fall to the floor) No, no, no, no! You idiot, what were you thinking?!

Gaius: (running to Merlin) Merlin!

Uther: Who is this?

Gaius: My ward. (checks Merlin) We need to move him to my tower as carefully and quickly as possible. I can't pull the knife out here, he'll bleed to death.

Merlin: (smiling weakely at Arthur) I did it. (Tears of happiness) I did... (Starts closing his eyes).

Arthur: (panic mode) No! don't you dare die on me! (carries him as Gaius instructed) You're going to be okay, you're going to be okay. Stay with me (thinking) Please, don't leave me again. I just got you back. I can't lose you again.

Time skip. Merlin wakes up in Gaius's tower and with his wound bandaged. The knife didn't puncture anything important, but apparently the blade was poisoned. Fortunately, it was a pretty common one and Gaius took care of it rather quickly. Gaius scolds him for scaring him as expected but then hugs him gently and tells him he must not do any effort for at least 2 weeks and rest. Just as Gaius leaves for some herbs, Arthur enters to check on him.

Arthur: Better do as he says. I can't have my personal manservant injuring himself.

Merlin: Personal manservant?

Arthur: My father, the king, decided to reward you for saving my life by granting you a place at the royal household.

Merlin: (happy inside, but pretending to be annoyed) As your personal manservant? Couldn't he just give me gold or something?

Arthur: (playing along) Most would consider it a great honor.

Merlin: Well, I'm not like most people.

Arthur: (laughs a little) You certainly aren't. (Gets close and checks him out little, cause he's never seen Merlin without a shirt before and damn it! is hard not to stare, but as soon as his eyes land on the bandage, he turns serious) What you did was very brave... and stupid. You shouldn't have done that.

Merlin: (still mocking) If that's your way to say "Thank you for saving my life", well, yeah, I'm starting to regret saving your royal ass.

Arthur: I'm serious. Now you're my manservant, therefore my responsability and my concern. You're not allowed to put yourself in harms way, ever, not even for me. (Thinking) specially for me.

Merlin: (bewildered at the sudden concern) Is that a rule?

Arthur: It is now. Do I make myself clear?

Merlin: (touched, he smiles) Yes, my lord. (Thinking) I would die for you a hundred times over.

Arthur: (Thinking, a wave of nostalgia invading him) "My lord"... how much I missed that. (says) Good. Now get some rest (starts leaving, but stops and turns) And Merlin.

Merlin: Yes?

Arthur: Thank you for saving my life. (Makes a small bow, smiles and leaves)

Merlin: ...

Merlin: Did he just bow to me?!! 😨

...

Some explanation: Arthur is now, not immune, but a little more resistant to some mind spells since his mind is from the future and has already passed for all those spells before. Merlin's magic is kind of weak, because the ritual Arthur did used the magic from the tree, therefore Merlin's magic to do the time travel thing, so lets say his magic is a little exhausted and needs recovering, but it just last a few days.

[midnight-mourning]

DCA Promptober Day 5: Artistic License

Uh-oh, look's who back in the fever dream (it's you, you're back in the fever dream)

Sorry it's late, please enjoy ^-^

Word count: 820

🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃

You draw another line, at this point practically waiting for an objection. 

There isn't one. 

Surprised, you caution to draw another. Again, nothing. 

You start to draw one more-

The Attendant clears his throat. Or at least, mimics the sound. 

You practically deflate, sighing, "What's wrong with it this time?"

"You're not putting any passion behind it, art is all about passion, freedom of expression, grandiosity," He puts a hand to his chest, head held high, before turning back down to you, "It's full of life. Something you seem to know nothing about."

"Bold words for a machine," You grumble.

You suddenly find yourself face to faceplate with the animatronic. 

"What was that?"

Your eyes narrow, not backing down for now, "You can't expect me to have 'life' in my drawings when you can't even let me get past the first few steps."

"The first steps are the most important!" He strands upright, raising his finger, "If you can't grasp the fundamentals how do you expect to make a masterpiece."

You hold up the page, "This is a cartoon drawing of a horse."

"Pony."

"Same thing," You scoff.

Sun clasps his hands together, "And this, friend, is why you've made absolutely no progress. Can't even tell the difference between a pony and a horse, unbelievable."

You sit back in your chair, pinching your brow. You almost wish you were making paper pals. At least then you could be making some progress. Still, why you're here as opposed to doing say, literally anything useful in the place, you can't recall. Honestly maybe you should just reach out over your walkie-talkie and see if someone else can come entertain the Attendant-

What were you looking for again?

You furrow your brow; the thought is long gone. 

Just like all the others before it.

The Attendant picks up on your quietness, "Friend, I know I may seem, harsh, but I'm just trying to get the best from you! You understand, right?"

You frown, is he, nervous?

Why on earth would that be-

"Tell you what, if you can impress me with this next piece, I'll bestow upon you the highest of honors I can give!"

Back to the usual, "Yeah, sure. Impressing you. You make it sound so simple."

"That's because it is," His eyes lift into crescents, "You just need to try."

You're skeptical. Mainly because you've been at this, you don't know how long you've been at this but you know it's been awhile.

"Fine." 

You set to work, deciding to not wait on a prompt this time. You intend to ignore any noises or protests he makes, though it's not necessary. Mainly, because he's dead silent as you work away. 

You can feel his stare on you though, laser focused as you are on the page. You do your best to ignore it, but god if it isn't unnerving. The only sounds in the space are the click of his rays and the scratching of your pencil on the page. 

It's odd that the Daycare theme isn't playing, though this entire set-up is also pretty weird, why is there even a craft station like this? And it's only intended for one person, in the middle of the space-

"Time's up!" Sun suddenly announces.

You jump, "Wait, you didn't say anything about a time limit!"

"Did I not?" He snatches the paper from you, "Oh well, let's see how you did!"

You watch as he scrutinizes your drawing, which was mostly finished, mind you. You'd just needed to add the final touches to the naptime attendant's hat and could call it good.

You realize that Sun hasn't said anything about your drawing, usually he would by now. You take note that he's gone completely still. You hear the smallest of noises and glancing at his hands see that he's gripping the paper so tightly you're surprised it hasn't torn. 

You take the risk of speaking up, "Well?"

"It's..." There's an infliction in his tone you can't decipher, but then, "Fine. I suppose. Though personally I would have used charcoal for the shading."

"You literally only gave me a pencil and a couple broken crayons-Wha-Hey!" You watch as he shreds your artwork without a second thought.

He ignores you, instead presenting you with a new piece of paper, "Congratulations! You have earned your artistic license!"

You take it, reading it over once, then squinting, "Is that how you spell artistic-"

"Now! Onto the next project!"

"Another one? Dude, how long do you plan on keeping me here?" You groan, setting your 'license' down. 

You once more find Sun taking up your entire field of vision. You're almost getting used to it at this point. Though that unwavering gaze of his doesn't help. 

His head tilts to the side, "As long as I need to, friend. I hope you keep that in mind."

Something tells you that you don't have much a choice.

🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃

Ah, Sunhinged my beloved... Sorry again for being late, hope to have the art for the other promptober done ASAP and then you'll be seeing that, thanks for reading!

You can find my other promptober responses here

[jules-writes-stories]

2024 Fic Writer End of Year Roundup

Answer and then tag three or more creators to keep the game going!

Thank you to everyone who tagged me! I'm sorry this is late. I've been working on it for days. It's really long.

1. How many words did you publish on AO3 in 2024?

366,893

2. How many fics did you complete this year?

9!

3. How many in progress or ongoing fics did you start this year?

I have 1 WIP: A Love That Bleeds and a Koschei x Eris fic that's not posted yet (but close to drafted).

4. What was your favorite thing you wrote?

I love all my babes equally, but I am most proud of Just Enough Light to Cast Shadows, which was my first fan fic, and a true labor of love.

5. What piece was your most experimental or different from your usual style?

Monster feels different from a lot that I've written. It's pre-cannon and examines Lucien and Eris's relationship, and is not ship-centered.

6. Did any fics surprise you - either while writing or their reception?

My Azris modern AU The Night Court Lounge really took me by the throat. It was supposed to be a slutty little spite fic and then it just took off. The boys caught feelings and I caught feelings. But I have @pippsmcgee to thank for hyping that story up. She was the brain child behind a big plot point, the pet names, and just talked me through positions and timing and what ifs... truly a gift.

7. Do you have a fic you wrote and loved that went under the radar? (This is your sign to reblog/repost it!)

Hmmm... not sure? Maybe my Amarantha x OC fic? It's hard to write pre-canon stories, especially for a villain! A Love That Bleeds is pretty dark and touches upon themes of slavery, love and autonomy, and is different from much that I write. But I am so proud of it.

8. Who is an artist that inspired you?

There are too many talented artists to list. Here are a few: @nus4y who makes Azriel's skin literally glow and everything just screams passion. LOOK AT HIS BRILLIANCE on A03 (NSFW)

@queercontrarian never fails to surprise me. Their take on the Court fashions, hair styles, jewelry. So much diversity and representation. THIS is one of my all time favorites. THEEESAN.

@palomita-de-la-sangre whose style is so unique and gorgeous and raw. This is what I mean.

@seihdacalling is immensely talented! Her Eris and pups and JEL Eris? AND LOOK AT MITHRAS (my beloved OC).

@bloodyplunder whose work is so passionate and full of color and movement. LOOK at this! AND (NSFW) LOOK AT JEL CHAPTER 25 on AO3!

@fourteentrout is inspired and talented. And all around incredibly kind and supportive. Just brilliant. LOOK AT FIRE SPRITE ERIS

@laxibbeb creates characters' faces in a way that hold so much emotion. NESTA is a favorite, omg... and AZRIEL IN STIRRUPS.

@elleybug @chunkypossum @lucychanart (who made me a Tamsand believer. God, this one?) so many more...

9. Who is an author that inspired you?

There are SO many. First and foremost, @chunkypossum who welcomes new creators with so much warmth and support. Every single story. Every word is magical. @iftheshoef1tz is another legend who is so kind and warm and wickedly talented. Every single story is perfection. Will they adopt me as my Azris parents? Maybe. Congrats! It's a shoe-possum!

@the-darkestminds is truly someone I could write a book about. The emotions she brings out with her characters and words will leave you breathless. If you want to feel, read her stories. You will walk away so full of every emotion, but also with a newfound appreciation for each character. And @mistandmemories whose Eris is the funniest, most clever, most lovable in the biz. Her Azriel makes me laugh constantly. How you ask? Shenanigans. Windows, pants, awkward moments of self doubt and a precious inability to communicate. Go read it. The plots, the politics. The WIT. The decades of delicious edging. (It was several chapters but gods it felt like a lifetime).

These two have been writing their own multi-chapter fics beside me this year, and without their friendship and support, I probably wouldn't have finished. ILY!

@pippsmcgee will never be rid of me and my neurotic little paws. This one just looks at a story, a character, a scene, and says "you know what will make it even more (painful, sexy, exciting)?" And you better listen. But she also wrote a beautiful story about young Azriel that inspired me so much this year.

@shadowsandlint is full of talent-- Her prose is layered with meaning and flows so naturally. I can't put her stories down.

@zenkindoflove For her OC Alexius, who is my baby forever and ever. Creating an OC is gutsy and brave and takes so much talent. She's got it all. Also stunning world building and dialogues! And don't get me started on Elucien...

@talibunny30 For her depictions of young Nesta and her OC Boudica. She shows so much of Nesta's trauma in a thoughtful and honest way. I love it!

@neciebee whose writing is like poetry. Every time I read it I'm like, wait! Come back. Tell me more. I want... more? Gimme!

@witch-and-her-witcher whose fics are so magical. Her Nessian is my all time favorite. Nesta, Cassian, the Illyrian culture that she built for us. Just stunning.

@born-to-riot for VAMREN. But also sexy plots, hilarious shadows, and fluffy Azris moments we need.

@acourtofladydeath for writing pieces that challenge readers to sit with uncertainty-- gray characters and grief that lingers but also carry lessons and hope.

@secret-third-thing for such perfect storytelling-- every word matters and every image counts. The descriptions and details are exact, the settings are lush and imaginative. Also, Artaban.

I could keep going... If you are not on this list, but I've commented or left kudos or bookmarked your fic, you've left a mark. If not, I'm coming for you in 2025!

10. Who is a new author you discovered?

@g00seg1rl who writes smut like a witch. A very sexy witch. @nus4y who is another sexy witch? Watch out for these two. @jolenes-library is so talented! Motorcycle Azris AU. Enough said. @buffy-vanserra whose prose is beautiful. Every word matters. @clockwork-ashes has so many lovely pieces I couldn't choose just one. @unanswered-stars for those damn letters. You know the ones. I'm still crying. @yanny-77 : Best Elain in the biz. And the Lip Ring.

11. Did you do any collaborations? How did it start?

@brunetterebel010 @mistandmemories and I wrote A Solstice Carol. It started as a lot of joking about Rhys being Scrooge. And it became a true passion project! @talibunny30 helped with brainstorming ideas and beta reading, and @fieldofdaisiies and @pippsmcgee beta read.

Also my partner in crime in all Azris fics: @pippsmcgee who talks me through plotting the political animal, asks the important questions, and twists the knife of angst. She keeps my eyeball obsession in check.

12. What accomplishments are you proudest of?

I'm most proud of Just Enough Light to Cast Shadows. It really is silly, but finishing it, right at the end of 2024, and looking back at all the new friends I've made along the way, and how it has touched other people just makes this year feel special.

Thank you so much to @pippsmcgee for helping me land that plane. And for being my very first comment, ever. When I saw you and @talibunny30 and @neciebee were reading, I felt legit. And to @mistandmemories and @the-darkestminds who were on this journey with me. It was so important to walk beside you during it all!

13. What did you learn about writing or creating this year?

Write was brings you joy. Comparison is the thief of that joy. You can only write your own story, and it's ok if it's not for everyone. Because a story that is everyone's is probably no one's, you know? It will reach the people it needs to.

Outlines are important (for my process). They saved my ass so many times. And beta readers. And friends. And reader-readers. They all saved me too.

14. What is your advice?

Surround yourself with people who cheer you on. Be sure to support other creators. The community aspect of fandom is important. We're all just out here putting our hearts onto the screen and hitting Post.

15. What are your creative goals for 2025?

Finish A Love That Bleeds, Finish my Koschei x Eris fic, and start plotting out a longer Azris multi-chapter fic. It's a little seed right now, but one day soon...

[swannieluv]

Bonjour

I'm back mootie🗣️🗣️

Could I request something w Scaramouche (in his Harbinger era) with an adopted kid (somewhere around 5 or 6 years old if possible)

I'm gonna be specific, so the ask could get a bit long, sorry😔

So he adopted the kid when he hadn't joined the Fatui yet (maybe before the betrayals? But could be after too) and he noticed the kid never aged, they were just stuck as a little child, both physically and mentally

But the kid could die if they got seriously hurt, so he never lets them wander off because he doesn't want them to run into danger and get crushed by a ruin guard or something like that

But one day he had to leave the kid alone, so they were left unsupervised in whatever place the Fatui stay in

And while they explored the place (since they never got to explore much) a random Fatui agent found them

Let's say that agent is a really bad person, the agent decides to hurt the kid because he assumed they were trespassing

Then the agent tosses the kid outside whatever place the Fatui stay in and leaves them there

The kid was too hurt to actually get up and get help (I don't think little kids would do well in these situations anyway) so they just accepted it and waited for something to happen

Cue Scaramouche finding the kid after searching (I think he'd find them quickly) and he's both worried and pissed (worried cuz his kid got hurt and pissed cuz someone did that to them)

The kid is too scared to say who hurt them so Scaramouche takes matter into his own hands

He finds out who hurt his kid and kills the dude (or does something else you can decide what)

And then everything goes back to normal (but Scaramouche is even more reluctant to let the kid wander alone after that incident)

If this is too much you don't have to write it!!

Take your time and take care of yourself too mootie‼️

Au revoir

Puppets

pairing: Platonic!Scaramouche x child!GNReader – wc: 2,1k – tw: bruises, child abuse (?) – a/n: HI MOOTIE!! It's been a bit of time since you sent me this ask sorry for the late reply 😞. I hope you can enjoy this <3 – reblogs and comments are appreciated!! – @gayestsillybilly

Dreams; small figments of consciousness existing inside one's unconscious state. A puppet wasn't supposed to sleep, let alone have dreams. However, when Scaramouche closes his eyes, it's as if the entire weight of his existence is lifted from his shoulders. For him, this is just further proof of his most unfortunate flaw.

There were few nights in which he would actually fall asleep; the vast majority of his dreams consisted of little memories of his time in Tatarasuna, scattered like little pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. And while Scaramouche was in the realm of dreams, a little one kept an eye on him.

His sleep was soon interrupted by hands that touched his face, poking his cheek and wiping away a small tear that had unconsciously fallen. Hands that resembled wood, but with a sort of human softness that disguised their artificial nature.

Underneath the fearful gaze, was a secret The Balladeer kept from the rest of the Fatui: the existence of a little puppet that followed him around like a baby duck following its mommy. A puppet whose intellect never evolved beyond the knowledge of a six-year-old, thus making them more of a conscious doll. And that doll was no one but [Name] themselves.

And so Scaramouche decided to get up and make some hot cocoa, like he used to prepare for them every time he was in Snezhnaya with them. It was a simple drink, yet their favorite one in this unforgiving cold.

“What are your dreams about?”

With a small sigh, he tried to look away so as to not answer [Name]’s questions. Curiosity once killed the cat, and he was damn sure that the same would happen to them one day.

“Nothing you should worry about.”

“And who said I'm worrying about you?” their tone was nonchalant; and even though he knew it wasn't ill intended, that was too straightforward.

“Oh.”

[Name] smiled at him before putting their small cup of hot cocoa away. A puppet didn't need to eat to survive, and Scaramouche couldn't understand why they enjoyed eating and drinking the same things almost everyday. Did they really need such a routine?

“You probably already know, but I'm—”

“Going on a trip again.”

They were being so nonchalant today that it made Scaramouche a bit surprised, despite his expression not having changed a bit from its usual neutral complexion. [Name] wasn’t like that, so there was definitely something wrong with them.

“You’re not usually like this, huh?” He raised an eyebrow before kneeling to reach their level.

“I don't know… I don't have a good feeling about you going away this time.”

Scaramouche sat down by their side, fixing his hair before placing his signature hat on. He wanted to find something to tell [Name] to try to relieve their fears, yet couldn’t think of anything motivating and just put his hand on their hair; he had done it many times for it to get repetitive, but this was the only type of affection he knew to comfort them.

‘Okay, I’m ready…’

[Name] finished packing the little stuff they had, mostly trinkets given by Scaramouche. Some stuff like a mask from Inazuma, a flower music box from Fontaine and a Snezhnayan doll. Scaramouche wouldn’t take them with him, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t sneak in his adventure. He would scold them, yet there wasn’t anything he could do about it when they’re already there.

“What are you doing?”

Scaramouche appeared behind them, making [Name] try to hide the bag by throwing it somewhere in the snow.

“Nothing!” They gave Scaramouche a “good kid” smile, hiding completely their mischievous plan from him.

“You already know the safety rules, don’t you?”

“Yeah, I know. ‘Don’t go too far, [Name]!’ and ‘don’t go near people with masks’ and stuff like that…”

He couldn't help but cross his arms in response to their tone. Deep inside, Scaramouche knew he was being a bit too overprotective; yet he didn't want to lose them like he lost the others, though [Name] was immortal just like him and there was no way he would be left alone as the time passed by.

But deep inside of him, a small sparkle of fear was enough to justify his dread. And along with this fear, came the need to protect them. So as long as he lived, [Name] would be safe and happy.

“Exactly. So just stay here and wait until I come back.”

[Name] was already used to being alone as he went on errands for the Tsaritsa, but they always missed him a lot. Though they knew he would just come back as he always did, something was bothering them.

He couldn't take them with him, not when his hands would be dirty with someone's blood; that would only make the only source of kindness left for Scaramouche afraid of him. Having [Name] openly next to him just increased drastically the chance of running into The Doctor along the way. They were the only secret he made sure that no one else knew about — especially Dottore; his worst nightmare is having [Name] end up in The Doctor’s lab.

“Then you'll have to bring me sweets,” they grinned while hugging his leg.

“We'll see how it goes.”

He gave them a weak smile, a rare sight reserved specially for them and no one else. If anyone else saw the Sixth with a genuine smile like that, chances are that they would be found dead by the next day.

His fingers tenderly caressed their head in a comforting manner. Scaramouche didn't want them to feel sad about his departure – though he knew they were already used to being left alone – since he would eventually come back to them.

Scaramouche had passed through three betrayals and, deep inside, he knew they would mark their fourth soon or later. However, he couldn't gather the courage nor the will to abandon them before being abandoned first.

“Can…”

He looked back at [Name] before removing his hand from their head, waiting for what they were going to say.

“C-can you give me a hug before going?”

Their arms tightened around his leg, not letting go of him anytime soon; at least not before he attended to their request. Their actions certainly caught his attention, since they rarely asked for anything other than candies or trinkets from whatever corner of Teyvat he went to.

“...”

Scaramouche looked at them, then elsewhere, and finally decided to take action by kneeling down to hug them. His hugs were uncomfortable since he was not the best at giving them; his hand wrapped around them carefully as he sighed. It didn’t last long, as he soon separated and turned around.

“Goodbye.”

That was what he said before going away, leaving [Name] standing in the snow. But it wouldn’t stay like this, since they would follow him again.

[Name] took their bag, cleaning the snow out of it, and went on their adventure. They hid in the woods before sneaking in a small boat Scaramouche had entered; they didn’t know where it would lead to, and after hours of traveling, the ship arrived somewhere. It didn’t look as if they had reached their final destination, so a camp was going to be built.

‘Hehe, I did it…’

They left after everyone else and put their feet in something that wasn’t snow for the first time. [Name] couldn’t help the big smile plastered on their face, they were too overjoyed to. And their eyes scanned around to look for Scaramouche, but didn’t see anyone.

“Is this what they call green gra—”

“You.”

A deep voice called from behind them, a fatui soldier carrying a gun was what they saw when turning around. A person with a mask, just like Scaramouche had alerted them to be careful of. And like any kid in their situation, [Name] tried to run away only to be grabbed by the hair.

“What are you doing here? This isn't a place for kids.”

They couldn’t see his eyes, but the anger coming from the man made [Name] shiver. A new emotion ran through their veins; was it fear? Dread? No, it was pure horror. And as if analyzing them closely, the soldier quickly lost patience and just threw them away like a sack of potatoes, making [Name] hit a tree very hard.

“Go away before things get worse to you.” He didn’t even look at them before going back to his spot, watching around to see if there was anyone else there.

As [Name] stood up, they noticed something terrible. They thought it was over until they felt something, something missing. Their left arm was lying on the ground; they weren’t just hurt, they were broken.

And in panic, they took their severed arm and ran away into the forest, not caring about anything else around them. Their face was full of tears, making [Name]’s vision blurry as they rushed and tripped on a few stones and roots; But they were too desperate to even trip.

Suddenly, [Name] bumped on something, or someone. As they looked up, they saw a familiar face: Scaramouche! They had finally found him, and he was definitely going to protect them.

As for Scaramouche, his eyes widened when he saw them. His jaw dropped when he saw them holding their arm. “What the hell are you doing here!?”

They flinched at his question, looking down. [Name] was embarrassed from having disobeyed him and ending up like this; but Scaramouche wasn’t mad at them.

He told them to wait for him where they were before going back to get something he could use to heal that terrible wound. And they waited, already having stopped crying.

“Tell me, who the hell hurt you?”

He stared deeply in their eyes, almost begging for an immediate answer from [Name]. But only sobs left the child's mouth as they held their broken arm.

"I'm broken now? Do I have to be thrown away?!”

[Name]’s voice carried a desperate tone that made Scaramouche look down, he couldn’t help the visible frown on his face as he pondered about the options he had. He himself didn't know what to do now; despite being puppets, the two of them had different compositions. What repairs him wouldn't repair them.

The only person Scaramouche knew that had the capacity of fixing [Name] was…

‘The Doctor…’

He pushed the thoughts aside and bandaged their arm, making sure to connect the forearm to the rest with a piece of wood that would be used for the campfire that night. It wasn’t going to magically heal itself, but at least they [Name] wouldn't have to carry a severed arm around.

“You won't be thrown away. Don't even think about it.”

Scaramouche then placed a hand on their shoulder and looked them dead in the eye, making sure they would understand what he was about to say. The silence between the two of them was agonizing; he was waiting for [Name] to say something, anything, that would allow him to make a decision between staying here to coddle them — not that he had much experience at coddling crying children — or going after the culprit and beating the shit out of them.

“But you need to help me here and tell me who did this to you?”

[Name] pouted, tears coming back to their eyes as they tried to wipe it away before telling him the truth.

“A scary man with a mask…”

The description definitely matched someone Scaramouche saw in the troop. Oh, that guy was doomed now; he would make him wish he was dead.

“I’m sorry… I did something wrong and it happened.”

He didn’t like seeing them apologize for something like this, so he just took their right hand and made them follow him. It was silent in the woods, making the atmosphere peaceful.

“There’s a city nearby, let’s get the candies you wanted and then go home.”

Scaramouche was going to make sure they felt better after this. Of course, they had lost an arm and he didn’t know how to fix it without The Doctor, but he wouldn’t risk losing them to him. He wouldn’t be betrayed again.

“You’re not mad at me?”

“No, I would never be mad at you.”

They had both broken promises here; he didn’t protect them from getting hurt, and they didn’t follow his orders to be safe. Though there was nothing he could do now, having a peaceful rest of day was what the both of them needed.

“We have each other, don’t forget that.”

“I won’t…”

And so they marched to somewhere they could be happy for a while. He was definitely going to pay more attention to them from now on, and they ouldn’t be that reckless for their own good. Bad things happened, but they were there for each other, and it wouldn’t change.

[daenysx]

nsfw. you can send requests if you'd like angels.

"no, come back." aemond whispers, almost begging. he tries to reach for you blindly, eye closed and body sleep-filled. a white sheet covers his legs as he lays down on his bed. you can almost see the first lights of the day from the open window.

"i was just-" your breathing was quick, voice hushed as sleep leaves your eyes slowly. you go back to bed, letting aemond lead you to his chest by pulling you closer. the oversize shirt you wear to bed wrinkles between his clumsy fingers. he tries to keep you there, steady and grounded.

your head almost pounds with the heaviness of the things you're supposed to do during the day. the exam you're supposed to take, the assignments you need to finish, the readings you're required to do for the rest of the week. it all makes you nervous, you always feel the urge to sleep less and wake up too early to start the day.

"sweetheart." aemond says, voice scratchy with sleep. "it's only 5 am, your class begins at 11."

"but i need to work on-"

"please, don't bother to explain yourself to me." his eye is open now, watching you. "i know your entire schedule, i know you don't have to wake up now, i know you just can't sleep so you make excuses to leave the bed."

you chuckle lightly. "can't i ever keep anything secret from you?"

he shakes his head. "i'm worried about you. you didn't get any proper sleep for days."

"it's just- i feel like i need to stay awake to get more things done. i'm just a little stressed, aemond, you don't need to worry about that."

the bed is so warm, it makes you melt in his arms. he kisses your hair, his hand start rubbing your back. "my baby." he holds your chin to lift your head. "i just need you to be good and healthy. if you don't get enough sleep, you'll get sick."

you part your legs to get closer to him. "i'm sorry for waking you up."

he ignores your apology as you think he would. "i'll go to the office a little late today. sleep with me until i wake up and i'll take you to school before your class, hmm?"

you nod, glad for his rational opinions and how he makes things easy for you. he smiles, kisses your hair again. "good girl."

you squirm hearing his words. he puts his thigh between your legs in bed, you press an eager kiss on his naked chest. you move yourself on his legs, the friction makes your head heavy.

you move to take your shirt off, aemond watches you with fully awake eye. he cups your cunt with a big hand, his fingers play with the side of your panties. you move slightly, pressing yourself on his hand. "take them off." he smiles slyly. you listen to him, letting the last piece of clothing go.

"can i take this off too?" you ask, pointing a finger at his boxers. he nods, lifts his hips for you. he pulls you back to bed, under the warm sheets when you're done. all bare, skin to skin under the covers. your head spins with desire, he holds you on his chest. you can feel him getting hard on your belly.

he brings his hand on your cunt, slowly rubbing your nearly swollen clit. he almost pushes a finger to your hole but not quite. you squirm, the ache between your legs increase with the movements of his fingertips.

"aemond." you whisper desperately. "don't tease."

"i'm not teasing, sweetling." he is definitely teasing. "i'm just distracting you."

you brush a kiss to his skin. "please."

"yes? coming around me always makes you sleep better, right?" he pushes his finger in you. "i'm gonna make every thought in your head disappear until you are good for me."

"i'm always good for you."

"do you want to prove that?" he pushes a second finger. "come on, show me how good you can be."

your bodies look like one on the center of the bed. his two fingers move inside you, searching for your sweet spot. you know he's not gonna stop, he'll make you tired so that he can finally make sure that you sleep. his thumb rubs your clit as you arch your back to him, breathing loudly. "please." you whisper. "please, baby."

the first time you called aemond 'baby' he almost got crazy. you know using that word will make you get what you want, that's his weakness. you lift your head to reach his lips. aemond kisses you until you're both breathless, his tongue finds yours, and you moan quietly. he pushes you on your back gently, settling himself on top of you.

"it's okay." he kisses your neck softly. "i'm not teasing, sweetheart, i promise."

he pushes himself inside your wetness, your muscles clench around him as he sucks a little bruise on your back. "you should relax for me, yeah? come on, let me- fuck"

you wrap your legs around his waist as you trap him inside you. it's easier to adjust yourself to his length after a minute. he starts moving between your legs, his lips tight around your collarbone. your hands wander in his hair, pulling his locks lightly. "that's- that's perfect." you say. "please, go harder."

he smiles on your cheek. "anything you want." he says. "like this, hmm?"

you nod, arching your back as he hits your g-spot for the first time. "there you go, baby. it's better, right? so tight, driving me insane." he says as he pushes your hair back.

you can feel the wetness pooling on the sheets. it's messy but you can't bring yourself to care. he holds you in his arms until you're shaking with soft noises. he groans, louder than you, his cock stuck between your legs and it's the intimacy of everything thay brings tears to your eyes. he kisses your head, moves his hips until your muscles trap him inside with one last movement.

"come on." he begs. "come for me, sweet girl. oh, fuck."

your legs shake as he reaches his peak, he is holding you softly but you can't help your muscles trembling. "aemond-" you whisper to his ear, unable to form a proper sentence. your head goes light, trying to keep him inside you as you reach the moment you desired since you opened your eyes this morning. you can only make small noises at him, too focused on your own pleasure to notice him lifting his weight on top of you.

aemond reaches his nightstand to grab some paper towel. the material is not soft enough as he'd like but he's too sleepy and too fucked out to leave your side. he carefully cleans the mess you've both made, as good as he can, and pulls you back on his chest.

your breathing starts turning normal. aemond kisses your head, his hands holding your waist like he'll never let you go. he probably never will. you can feel the warmth of his body enveloping you into a content sleep, the thoughts leave you be until you wake up again. you can only manage to kiss aemond thank you as you drift off. thank you for being so gentle with me.

[remapped-soul]

once again with an italian song, this time for charlos

"occhi diversi tutte le sere ma sempre il solito vecchio sorriso" >>> different eyes every single night but always the same old smile

i'm imagining something romantic and cheesy and charles' eyes changing with the light :)

once again, im so sorry how late this is. i had an idea for this ever since you sent me the ask but only now found the energy to write. i hope you like it <3 I tried making it cheesy and romantic. what's for sure, charles' eyes are definitely changing hehe. your prompts have been amazing and I had so much fun writing them

this is a companion piece to my charlos demon au. read it here

tw: mention of the lv incident, and charles is angry about it, but nothing too graphic.

This year was supposed to be different. This year was supposed to be their year. Prayers on his lips, the devil by his side, Carlos was supposed to win this year. Instead, he's barely scrapping in the top 5 as it is. To say he is frustrated is an understatement.

"I thought a deal with the devil meant glory," Carlos says the night after the race in Melbourne. "I thought the car would be strong. I thought--" the voice catches in his throat "--I thought I'd be strong."

Charles is motionless next to him, eyes a blue so dark and deep, no shadow disturbs them. Carlos is a little afraid to look at him.

"It will come." Charles presses his mouth against Carlos' shoulder, heat sipping through the shirt. He inhales, long and deep. He's just like a dog sometimes, Carlos thinks, a little amused, a little fond. Protective and possessive.

"Easy for you to talk." Carlos shakes Charles off. The artificial light of the hotel room slants in his eyes, and for a second, Charles' irises are not deep blue, but milky white. Carlos' heart seizes in his chest. He blinks. Charles' eyes are back to normal. "You were Senna in the past life."

Charles rolls his eyes. "I made a deal with you, not with Ferrari. I can't help them if they're not ready to pay the price."

"And I am? Paying the price?"

Charles smiles, crooked, lopsided, dimples popping, and kisses him into quietness.

*

It gets better until it doesn't and Carlos has to retire his car in Spa halfway in. It's Charles' turn to be on the podium, and Carlos is so angry he can barely stand to look at him.

"It's just a third place, Carlos. Nothing to stress over."

They go back to the hotel right after Charles finished his media duties, and Carlos wants nothing more than to be alone. He thinks slamming the door would have gotten the message across, but when he turns around, Charles is already there, by the bed, waiting, hands in his pockets, eyes a dull grey.

"A third place and three championships," Carlos sneers now, looking over Charles' shoulder. He can't stand the look in his eyes. "Nothing to stress over."

Charles sighs, exasperated. "I existed before you, Carlos. I will exist after you. My life now is nothing but a moment, painted in a different color. I don't choose my lives, the same way you didn't choose to be bound to me. If I could, I'd always be a king, a winner, but my life is defined by the contracts I make the same way yours is defined by things outside of your control." Charles stops, an angry breath hissing through his clenched teeth. He doesn't talk about his life, his existence as a being outside of the human realm, if he can help it. "You know what you got to do if you wish to never see me again."

Carlos finally looks at Charles. His eyes shine like marble in sunlight. Outside is dark, a starless night.

"And if I do? Will the old Charles be back?" Carlos still remembers the days before he made his pact. The sweet Charles, the shy Charles. The one that blushed around Sebastian Vettel.

"You drivers always think you're so different from one another, but you're all the same." The Charles in front of him gives him a sad smile. "There is no old Charles. It's always been me."

Carlos suddenly feels nauseous. He stares at Charles, at his eyes, at the grey melting into blue. "I think…I think I need to be alone." A pause. "Please."

Charles tilts his head to the side, watching Carlos. Carlos blinks. Charles is gone.

Later, they will be fine, as fine as a demon and human can be. They will fall into bed again, and Charles will let Carlos touch him, slide into him raw, make love to him. Charles will let Carlos wrap his hands around his throat, kiss him breathless, mark him. Charles will let Carlos believe he has power, and Carlos will let it happen, accept it. He will accept anything, everything as long as he gets to enjoy this for a little while longer.

*

The win in Singapore comes with a bang, and Carlos doesn't have time to think if Charles gave him this only to appease him. He is yelling over the coms, yelling as he gets out of the car, as he embraces the team. He sings every word of Fratelli d’Italia up on the podium. Fred pours champagne over his head, down his overalls. Carlos accepts everything with the biggest smile on his face. He won. He won for Ferrari. With Ferrari.

A tiny voice in his head tells him, you won before Charles this year, before Il Predestinato. It's delightfully mean. Carlos shoves it back where it came from.

He doesn't spot Charles anywhere until after his press conference, when Carlos is pulled into a desolate room, a hand on his mouth to silence him and a cheeky smile greeting him in the dark.

"Hi, champion."

Carlos grins against the fingers. "Hi back," he mumbles, pulling Charles into him by the waist.

Charles' eyes are a kaleidoscope of red-pink-purple, a sunset trapped in his irises. "My beautiful champion," he says and then he kisses Carlos hard on the mouth. Carlos parts his knees, Charles steps closer, pushes his hands underneath Carlos's shirt, fingers on his stomach, skin against skin. Carlos shudders.

"Bebe," Carlos mutters as Charles kisses down his neck. "Not here. Hgmm." Charles bites at a particular sensitive spot on Carlos' neck. "We don't have time."

Charles' eyes glimmer as he looks up at Carlos. "Is that a challenge?" He asks and drops to his knees before Carlos can get a word in.

Ten minutes later they're sliding into their chairs as the debrief starts, and if Carlos fixes his pants and Charles wipes the corner of his mouth, no one bats an eyelash. After all, they were only a few minutes late. No one scolds a Ferrari champion.

*

The manhole blows up underneath Carlos' car in Las Vegas. It brings the first practice to an end and rules him out of the second one. Because of the damage, he will most likely get a penalty on Sunday. It’s a mess. Charles is fuming.

Carlos watches as Charles paces the length of his hotel room, threat dripping from his tongue like a thunderstorm, and he speaks in French and sometimes in Spanish. Other times in languages that are not familiar at all. Carlos would laugh about it, would pull Charles into his arms, tell him not to worry, kiss the frown off his face. He’d do that and more if it weren’t for the shackles shining bloody red around Charles’ neck, around his wrists, eyes matching as they flare up with every new word.

Charles’ threats are not something to laugh at. They’re real, and if Carlos doesn’t do anything about it, Charles will level the city.

“It’s what they deserve,” Charles spits. “If there is something the humans have been constant about- it's money. It’s always about money. They’d risk everything for it. I should cut their fingers off, one by one. Make them choke on money. Teach them the consequence of greed.”

Carlos sighs. He doesn’t think too much about it and grabs Charles by the arm, pulling him into his lap.

“Cariño,” Carlos soothes, pressing a kiss underneath Charles’ right eye. He puts his fingers on Charles’ neck and doesn’t think about how it burns. “You’re older than mankind. Why are you still surprised?”

Charles growls low in his throat. “They messed with what’s mine.” Surprise and pleasure zip up Carlos’ spine. He drops his hands around Charles’ shoulders, pushes and pulls until Charles gives in and melts against his chest. “I am fine, really. I am here, aren’t I?”

Charles huffs. He grips the hem of Carlos’ shirt and presses his cold nose against Carlos’ neck.

“You could’ve lost your legs,” he mumbles.

“Not for long,” Carlos says as he draws lines on Charles’ back. Up and down, left to right, as soothing as he can make them. “I have you.”

“Yes,” Charles relents, finally, fight going out of him all at once, shackles fading until they leave only unmarred skin behind. “Yes, you do.”

He presses a kiss under Carlos’ ear. If Carlos senses a hit of teeth, too sharp to be human, he doesn’t mention it.

“Will you leave the city and its people alone?”

Charles smiles against his neck. “For now. For you. They owe you a life debt.”

“Yes, yes, my fearless demon,” Carlos says and then tightens his hold and flips them on the bed, Carlos on top, Charles splayed underneath him. For the next several hours Carlos makes sure Charles doesn’t have time to think about decimating the world. Charles lets him.

A pact with the devil is not so bad after all.

[scarabsinthestardust]

Tender // Ch. 5

MASTERLIST

word count: 3200+

I'm so sorry for the delay in getting this chapter out, friends. I came back from vacation sick and had a lot of catching up to do. But here we are, and chapter 6 is already almost done, too. Things are getting intense, and I am again apologizing for what's to come.

CHAPTER WARNINGS: child abuse; religious violence; burns; depression; anxiety; paranoia; unspecified undiagnosed mental illness; language; alcoholism; intoxication; jealousy; suicidal ideations; drunk driving; verbal argument; physical violence; domestic abuse; blood; mentions of hospitals, stitches, shots, and medication; manipulation; toxic behavior; stalking behavior (if I missed anything, let me know)

There was no rhyme or reason for what they’d done to him. They could probably justify their actions in their own deluded minds, but to anyone on the outside, it was barbaric and cruel. When the boy asked why, his voice raw from screaming, they only told him it was God’s will, whatever that meant.

The boy is 13 now. He’d read the Bible, and he didn’t recall anything about this. Of course, he fought against the pain. Who could be expected to sit quietly and obediently when there is red hot metal being pushed against their flesh? His mother chose the spot of a small birthmark above his right hip. The offending spot, a mark of the Devil, needed to be cleansed. The pain would eventually fade, a jagged scar in its place, but you don’t ever forget the smell of burning flesh, especially your own.

~

I was 16 when I left that place. I had nowhere to go and no plan, but I’m smart enough to know how to survive. I managed to save up whatever money I could scrape up and worked as hard as I could until I was able to land steadily on my own feet. I pulled myself up from the ground and rarely asked anyone for help. I refused to rely on anyone. People can’t be trusted, and I’m the perfect example.

I thought that being with Josh would be the remedy I needed to fix myself, that he would be the one to pull me out of the water and back onto solid ground. But I never should have put that on him. It was never his responsibility, but now I’m finding that it’s easier to blame him for my slip-ups than admitting that I have a problem.

The band isn’t due to go back on tour for quite some time, but they’re in the process of writing and recording new music, which requires a lot of time spent at the studio. I know they’re working so hard, and I should be proud of him, but the longer this takes, the further he slips away. He spends all day with his brothers and returns home late and too exhausted to do much of anything other than sleep.

I can tell our last fight (if I can really call it that) still weighs heavily on him. He doesn’t talk as much, which I thought would be relieving, but instead it only makes him seem more distant, and it hurts. He doesn’t ask me many questions anymore, and he’s hesitant to try and make plans. I curse myself for creating that dark cloud of unsurety that hovers over him.

I fell off the wagon in Wichita, and I haven’t gotten back on it. Some days are more difficult than others. Josh tries to keep me afloat as best he can. He’s done what he can to keep me away from any alcohol, and he’s even dropped me off at a couple of AA meetings to make sure I go. But it’s not like there’s a step-by-step manual on how to make sure your boyfriend doesn’t decide to be a piece of shit today.

I’m assigned to a job that’s supposed to keep me out of town for a few days, but some changes in plans have me returning home a day early. I try to call Josh on my way back, but I only get his voicemail. He doesn’t call me back, but eventually sends a text. “Sorry I missed your call. I’m out with the guys, so I’ll be out late. I’ll see you when I get home.” The little heart emoji at the end makes me scoff. ‘Out with the guys.’ He’s at the bar with his brothers, and there’s no telling what he’s getting up to.

I don’t know why I’m finding it so hard to trust him these days. I want to believe that he wouldn’t lie to me, wouldn’t allow himself to be whisked away by some other man, but then I remember that I’m beneath him, and he’s weak. I imagine it wouldn’t take much, that he’d give in to the first handsome man that spares him a sultry glance.

I don’t go home, and I don’t go to his house. Not yet. I’m tired from the drive and my mind is muddled with made-up scenarios that send me into a spiral. I wonder if I can will some kind of tragedy into existence, something to take me out of my misery – a car accident, a gunshot from a robbery gone bad, anything. It would be so easy to lie down on the nearest train tracks and wait it out or take a flying leap off of the top floor of a parking garage, but in the end, I’m too much of a coward to do it myself.

I don’t hesitate to go inside the store and buy the liquor. I park in an empty lot; the fact that it’s in walking distance of Josh’s favorite bar may or may not have been intentional. I don’t have any second thoughts before I crack open the first bottle.

The more I drink, the more my fear and sorrow turn to hate. I’m angry. I’m angry with myself for not having the strength to control my urges. I’m angry with Josh… for what? For having a social life? For wanting to spend time with his brothers at a place I can’t go? That’s stupid. He’s not a child. But I need him more than I’ve ever needed anyone. We’ve been apart so much recently. Maybe he just needs a reminder of who I belong to, who he belongs to.

I can’t find my keys; I probably dropped them between the seats. It’s for the best, really. The liquor has fogged my brain and made me clumsy, but at least I can stay upright. I barely stumble down the sidewalk until I reach my destination. The doorman eyes me warily, but one of the benefits of being a raging alcoholic is you get better at hiding it.

It doesn’t take me long to spot Jake, Sam, and Danny at a table inside. But where’s Josh? I scan the dimly lit room until I find him. He’s leaning up against the bar talking to someone I don’t recognize. He laughs at whatever the man says to him, his cheek red – from alcohol or is he blushing? The man leans in, too close for my comfort, and touches Josh’s shoulder. Heat rises up in me and my skin is tingling. My vision tunnels until Josh is the only thing I can see.

I rush towards him, miraculously without bumping into too many innocent bystanders, and force myself between him and the unsuspecting stranger. The man takes a step back and shoots Josh a concerned look.

“Finn, what the hell are you doing here?” His eyes are wide and panicked, like he just got caught doing something he wasn’t supposed to.

“You first,” I spit, my tone venomous.

“What are you even… shit, you’re drunk.” He lets out a frustrated sigh. “Jesus Christ, c’mon.”

I glare at the stranger once more before Josh drags me outside. Jake seems to have noticed and is hot on our tails. “Josh, you okay?” Jake doesn’t trust me, and he doesn’t make any attempt to hide it. He hasn’t been fond of me since day one. His presence and desire to be in Josh’s business fuels the fire, and I’m about to start in on him, but Josh is here to play peacekeeper.

“We’re good. Can you just, uh, give us a minute?”

I know the last thing Jake wants to do is leave his twin out here alone with me. I don’t blame him. I wouldn’t feel safe with me either. But at Josh’s pleading eyes, he relents, reluctantly retreating inside.

Josh turns to me, chewing on his bottom lip. Much like someone trying to calm a frightened animal, he approaches me slowly and carefully, his voice low. “Finn, baby, let me take you home.”

“Why, so you can come back here to that asshole?”

“What? Who are you talking about?”

“You know who I’m fuckin’ talking about. Were you gonna take him home? Were you gonna fuck him?” His feigned cluelessness is just fanning the flames. “Would he have been in your bed tonight if I didn’t come back early?”

“No, I wasn’t… the guy I was talking to in there? He’s just a friend, Finn. I wouldn’t-“

“That’s bullshit and you know it.” I close the distance between us. I’m so close and so much taller than him that he cranes his neck to maintain eye contact. He’s annoyed, tiptoeing into angry. He’s upset that I’m making these accusations. He pities me for being broken. But he isn’t afraid, and he very much should be.

The thing about alcoholism, in most cases, is that it brings out the worst in people. They do things they would never do sober. They hurt people in ways they would never think to do if they weren’t under the influence. They lose all sense of impulse control. The only thing that matters is what they’re feeling in those moments, the urges to act out on whatever terrible thoughts they’re having at the time. For me, it’s like I’m watching it happen to someone else. My self-awareness is clouded and I feel almost as if I’m just an observer, watching someone that looks oddly similar to me make the biggest mistakes of his life.

I expect a fiery argument from him, but if he’s mad, he pushes it down. “You don’t mean that. You’re drunk. You wouldn’t be saying these things if you weren’t.” He’s trying to diffuse a bomb and he’s about to cut the wrong wire. “Please, baby, let’s go home. You can sleep it off and we can talk in the morning.” His hands move to my face, and he looks up at me tearfully.

He thinks he can calm me down with his sweetness, sprinkle me with soft gestures to quell my anger. But it’s a façade. I know what he’s doing. He’s trying to manipulate it, to make me think I’m delusional, that I imagined everything. He’ll blame it on the alcohol in me instead of just admitting that he was the one acting like a whore.

I wrench away from his hands and my own come up. They meet his chest, and I shove him away so violently that he slams into the brick wall behind him with an audible thud. I hear him cry out, but it doesn’t register in my mind what I’ve done until I see blood. Blood? Wait, why is there blood?

“Josh, fuck, are you okay?” I try to go to him, but he sidesteps me.

“Don’t fucking touch me!” He’s got his hand pressed tightly on the back of his upper left arm. There’s blood seeping between his fingers and down his arm, staining his clothes. I notice something I didn’t see at first – a small piece of metal rebar that’s sticking out from the wall and is now coated in Josh’s blood.

“Baby, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…” The remorse I’m feeling isn’t false, and I don’t have to force the tears that are threatening to spill from my eyes. What have I done? I never meant for this to happen, for him to get hurt like this. “Please, let me see it. Let me help.” I try to go to him again, but he doesn’t want me near him.

“Get the fuck away from me!” His words sting, and the look in his eyes tells me he means it.

I’m frozen as I try to figure out what to do, and I watch him try to control the bleeding on his own. He can’t really see the wound, but he knows it’s bad. “Josh, you need to go to the hospital,” I say, keeping my voice down.

“No fucking shit, Sherlock.” He looks toward the entrance to the bar, probably considering going in to get Jake. But he glances back at me and something flashes across his face that I can’t explain. Worry? He starts to speak again but decides against it, before walking in the opposite direction. He’s not really going to drive himself there? I offer to take him but he shuts me down. “Like I would let you drive me anywhere right now. Actually,” he starts, turning to me. “Give me your keys.”

I shrug. “I don’t know where they are.” Is he asking because he’s actually still concerned about me, or because he’s trying to prevent me from driving off and fucking up someone else’s life?

He huffs. “Whatever. Go home,” he orders. He’s livid, and rightly so, but there’s something else painted across his face – pain, betrayal, and sadness.

I think I’m going to vomit. My legs are numb; I’m unable to move them and I can do nothing as he walks away from me.

~

I should have left. I shouldn’t have found my keys and gotten back behind the wheel. I shouldn’t have driven to Josh’s house, still drunk. I shouldn’t have let myself in with the spare hidden key. I shouldn’t have decided to wait for him, to try to salvage what’s left of a relationship I know is already in tatters.

It’s probably three or four hours before I hear the lock click on the front door. I watch him as he enters and shuts the door behind him. He doesn’t seem surprised to see me, but he makes no move to come any closer.

“I told you to go home.” He won’t meet my eyes and he looks so drained of energy. His left arm is wrapped up with white bandages, midway between his elbow and shoulder. He’s got a bag in his hand that looks like prescription medication and his bloodstained jacket draped over his arm.

“You are my home.” It’s the first thing that comes to mind and it’s pathetic, but it’s the truth. At least, it feels like it. “Are you okay?”

He scoffs. “I have five stitches and had to get a tetanus shot.” He holds the medicine bag up. “And antibiotics for ten days so it doesn’t get infected.”

“Josh, I am so sorry. I didn’t mean to… for you to get hurt.”

He tosses the medicine on the coffee table and sighs as he drops onto the couch. He sits as far from me as he can. “Finn… I want to help you, but if… if it’s gonna be like this… I don’t know if I want you here with me right now.”

“It’s not, I promise. I just got carried away. I wasn’t thinking. You know I would never hurt you on purpose. I’ll be more careful. It won’t happen again.”

His jaw tenses and I can see he’s thinking about what to say, what kind of decision he’s going to make. He’s dejected, like he doesn’t have any fight left in him. Maybe that’s not such a bad thing. But he doesn’t trust me. And if he doesn’t trust me, he won’t forgive me. Time to pull out all the stops.

I’m not faking it, not really. I do feel remorseful for what I did, and I’ll admit that I’m the one that messed up. Alcohol makes me paranoid, and now that I’m sobering up, I realize that Josh didn’t do anything wrong. It isn’t his fault that he’s too weak to tell people no. If anything, I should have taken it out on the asshole that had the audacity to touch him. But I am ashamed of how I acted, and I need to make him understand that. And if that requires me to beg, I’ll do it.

I give in and let the tears flow freely; it helps feed the pity I’m trying to draw from him. I know I’m just being selfish. I’m doing this for me, despite knowing this is not what he really needs. What he should do is put as much distance as he can between us. I’m not confident that I can keep him safe. But I’ve already started the game, and I have to finish it.

When I grab his hand, he makes a small effort to pull away, but I tighten my grip. Don’t let go. “Baby, please don’t push me away. I made a mistake, but you’re the one who said it was okay to make mistakes, right? I’m trying, Josh, I really am. I’m trying to be better, but I can’t do it alone. I need you.” That’s it. That’s the icing on the cake. That’s how I get to him. Josh is a lover, it’s in his blood. He loves being needed, getting the opportunity to help people, and he won’t say no. “If you shut me out now… I don’t have anyone else. You’re it for me. I can’t do this without you.”

He's fighting with himself, I can see it in his eyes, but I can also see that I’ve won. He still loves me, and he won’t just walk away from that. Even better, if he thinks he can fix me, he’s going to try, even if he takes all the damage in the process.

“What do you need me to do?”

I don’t have a real answer for him. He knows I won’t go to rehab – it’s too similar to a hospital. The AA meetings only do so much. Plus, I’m getting to the point where it annoys me, sitting there listening to all those idiots and their fucking sob stories. I don’t give a shit about them. I never did. Then they start bringing ‘God’ and ‘faith’ into it, and I realize they’re all just sheep, blindly following a fictional idea of God – or maybe just a god that doesn’t care about them either.

Josh’s big brown eyes are watching me closely, maybe trying to decide if he’s the one making the mistake. I certainly won’t be the one to tell him he definitely is.

I beg for him to just let me stay with him, and he concedes. I try to be gentle with him; I don’t think he can handle anymore heaviness tonight. I make him eat so he can start his antibiotics, and I’m extra careful of his arm as we lie down. Again, I don’t really sleep, but he crashes hard, the day finally catching up to him. And I do something that I know is another mistake, something that is guaranteed to cause problems later, but I justify it as my way of protecting him.

When I’m sure he’s fast asleep, I unlock his phone, download one of the many tracking apps that are freely available, and link it to my phone. I disable all notifications and hide the icon in some folder I know he never uses, one of those where you keep all the software apps you can’t delete.

There’s no doubt in my mind that it’s wrong. It’s disrespectful, a violation of privacy, an act that solidifies how much I don’t trust him. It’s controlling, manipulative, and just overall creepy. I would have been livid if he had done it to me. But the deed is done, and I’ll tell myself whatever I need to, to not feel guilty for this. I’m doing it for him. I’m doing it for his safety, to keep him out of trouble when I’m not here. He needs someone to do it, and who better than someone that loves him? He needs me, and I’d do anything for him.

///

TAGLIST (let me know if you want to be added!)

@hollyco @fleetingjake @musicislove3389 @hailthegodsong @josh-iamyour-mama @katuschka @lilbitx

[helpfandom]

prompts 5+14, or you can do just one of them if you'd like! With Nick Lightbearer? If you're up for it of course friend ^^

Tw: Violence, Drugs.

UGH I don't like it but I think that's because this one is shorter than the usual ones I do, and it's semi-romantic due to Nick being Nick. Also, I actually watched the Uncle Jack episode for the part when he comes on.

🥀5. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

🥀14. "Darling, a silly piece of paper can't keep me from you!"

°⁺⁎⋅❤︎⋅⁎⁺°⁺⁎⋅❤︎⋅⁎⁺°⁺⁎⋅❤︎⋅⁎⁺°

°⁺⁎⋅❤︎⋅⁎⁺°⁺⁎⋅❤︎⋅⁎⁺°⁺⁎⋅❤︎⋅⁎⁺°

Dodging Bobbies and Doctors all day is harder than you would think, but thankfully, Sally gets more of them. The actual, hardest part of the day is dealing with Nick. You took pity of the poor man and offered joy for cheap if he kept it silent.

A desperate banging at your door, and a wail. "I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!" He begs, still apologizing after his incident. He got physically violent from Joy withdrawal, actually managing to hit you and ended up destroying part of your lab.

A sigh exits you, and you ignore it, focusing on the new brand of Joy the Doctors want you making. The stupid formula takes double just to make one part of the drug! Eventually, though, his cries and wails cease and leave you with peace finally.

Finally, you can focus on the drugs at hand, utilizing your knowledge to somewhat make it easier, despite some of what you're missing being broken.

Soft steps in your home betray nothing to you, too focused on making more Joy to realize your private sanctuary has been broken into. "Darling, why didn't you open the door? I had to leave my flowers." Jumping around with a gasp, you raise your hand to your chest in surprise, glaring at him.

"How in the bloody hell did you get in here?!" He shrugs, smoothing his hair out and leaning on a counter. "Besides, Darling, what matters more is why didn't you answer?" You point your finger at him, getting closer and jutting your finger at him. "You're not supposed to be near me, Nick."

He waves his hand, figuratively pushing that concern away with a heavy look in his eyes. "Darling, a silly piece of paper can't keep me from you! Those silly Bobbies don't realize it's just the nature of our relationship! That's just how you get from time to time." He glares at the counter, apparently thinking of the Bobbies who gave him the restraining order.

With a sigh, you take his hand in yours, clasping them nicely. "Nick, I wanted the restraining order." He looks at you with a brief look of disgust flickering onto his face, stepping backwards. "Darling, why would you do that to your Nicky?" He shakes his head and walks away from your lab in a daze. "Darling, why?" He stays in his daze as you slowly push him towards the foyer of your home.

You push him out the door and lock it, then going to the windows and locking them as well, it's just a good thing he didn't manage to do anything while he was inside.

So, back to work it is, there's no rest for the wicked, and wicked we were. Humming a new song, despite not wanting to, by the Make Believes, you work on the formula.

°⁺⁎⋅❤︎⋅⁎⁺°⁺⁎⋅❤︎⋅⁎⁺°⁺⁎⋅❤︎⋅⁎⁺°

Goodness, you were exhausted from working all day, thankfully no Bobbies showed up, but a few Doctors did, they always gave you a weird feeling in your skin. Plopping on your bed and fishing the remote out from where it was, you turn on the Telly for Uncle Jack.

His familiar voice fills the room, "Well, it's getting late, isn't it? And it's time for all good citizens to be getting ready to go to bed. Would you... like me to read you a bedtime story?" A shatter downstairs and alarm bells ring, springing you to action despite the tiredness in your body.

The same, familiar, flashy outfit that Nick wears is home to the same person who you just kicked out mere hours prior. He holds his guitar in his hands with feral eyes, he's off of his joy!

He swings, and despite your best efforts, he manages to hit you in the head, even as you throw up your hands-

°⁺⁎⋅❤︎⋅⁎⁺°⁺⁎⋅❤︎⋅⁎⁺°⁺⁎⋅❤︎⋅⁎⁺°

Water rushing through to the floor, blood pumping, all of this floods your ears as you wake up. Looking over, Nick lays there next to you, hand on your waist.

"Why are you looking at me like that? Darling, I had to do what I needed to do so you could see the truth! I need you, Darling, I need you."

[elixrr]

langue de chat cookie x reader…….. (payment for me giving you $5 😡 /joking manner)

two ideas :

reader visiting langue’s parents, and reader is trying to look nice but then langue’s parents ends up being casual and doesn’t mind

langue relaxing with reader after a long day at the firm

(NOTE FOR FOLLOWERS OR NEWCOMERS FROM TAGS THAT ELIXRR DOES NOT NORMALLY DO COOKIE RUN CONTENT…. THEYVE NEVER PLAYED THE GAMES….)

Personal IRL request : @plutoniclol

(ty for the $5 btw lmao it got me a good popsicle)

Langue de Chat Cookie x Reader

The moonlight resided with you and your dearest tonight, a rare sight after a while of the constant sugary rains from above. The luminescent lights crept through the windows of your shared home, shining a bright light through the darkness of tonight.

In spite of the tranquil atmosphere, you were anxious— antsy about something.

Langue de Chat Cookie had yet to arrive home at his usual time. Usually, he'd come back around 7 PM, just half an hour after you'd come home, but he arrived 3 hours later, 10 PM.

“Argh, I'm so sorry, darling! Things were much busier than usual at the firm, and all the more stressful.. Of course— nothing I can't handle, but still!”

He explained to you how he had to find evidence to prove his latest client's innocence, though every piece of information given had led straight to nothing or created loopholes in every claim and detail there was. Langue described it to be the most challenging case he's ever had... not that he's had many clients in the past, though.

“Not to mention the paperwork! Please forgive me, my dear, I won't ever be late to dinner again!”

After a long back and forth tangent about how worried you were and how busy he was, you'd both calm down and soothe yourselves on the couch, the television turned on, watching trials of the past and of recent times, commenting on everything said and done in each trial—

“Oh, but isn't that against the law? Why're they letting it slide?” Langue furrows his eyes beside you, speaking in between chews.

“It is! I mean, I hear you resite every law known to cookie in your sleep, and I've totally heard you mumble that one, too.” You laugh, watching him with a smug face as he nearly chokes on his cat tongue biscuit.

“Huh— what? I do that?!”

After a good two or three trials, you figure that the tea is ready in the kitchen and you get up from the couch to get it.

Or.

You were supposed to.

“L– Langue?” You stutter, turning around quickly to see your fiancee simply following you like a puppy from the couch and to the kitchen, standing behind you with an ever-so slight and subtle pout.

“..Just waiting for the tea, of course.”

You slowly turn your head from Langue de Chat and towards the kettle, confusingly nodding to yourself before pouring the steamy water into the teacup. You and Langue watch as the water discolors and turns dark with the teabag.

After that, you're both back on that cozy couch of yours in the living room, the fireplace to your left on the wall, the television set in front of you in the other side of the room. You smile, feeling the warm steam of the tea whirling in your face. You take a sip and glance at Langue de Chat, who's as focused as ever with watching the trials. You see his squint, his furrowed and focused brows, how he sips the tea for no more than a second to not miss a single detail in the trial.

You're proud, to say the least. Langue's always strived to be a great and famous lawyer, and you can't help but be amazed with how much he's been doing for the sake of his career.

Your smile grows, but you've been staring enough that Langue's attention flickers from the TV and to you, and his face flusters a little under your gaze.

“Oh, love. Did you need something?”

Langue repositions his glasses, adjusting the frame on his face to be sure they fit right on his face, also guaranteeing that he'll look even better for you.

“Langue.”

You say. The wavering syllable of his name is enough to silence the trial, transforming the voices of the judge and the lawyers into nothing but white noise.

The room goes silent for you two, but—

“I love you.”

You still speak, and the words themselves break Langue's composure, and you earn a grumble of embarrassment from him. As he turns away, you still see hints of his blushiness.

“..I love you too.”

Langue murmurs, turning back towards the television to listen in on the trial again. You let out a small laugh, shifting closer to Langue de Chat, and resting your head on his shoulder.

Today was a long day for the both of you,

But the nights— especially tonight— are always worth it.

[byberbunk2069]

Top 10 Albums tag game

I was tagged by @streetkid-named-desire to list my top 10 albums

I tag @gibson-girlboss, @medtech-mara, & @luvwich

In no real order:

Transverse City by Warren Zevon

Released in 1989 the album, while not explicitly called cyberpunk by Warren Zevon, is pretty clearly there. I think this analysis covers it pretty well.

The lyrics from the title track itself also made me think immediately of Night City so I suppose to CDPR's credit they did a good job of making a shithole town comparable to a Warren Zevon track.

2. Beat the Bastards by The Exploited

I wouldn't really call myself a fan of the Exploited but that album has a lot of nostalgia to me because my dad somehow got a hold of an advanced copy of the CD back in 1996. The Exploited have a lot to say about Society in this album so I can get behind that.

3. Hackers: Original Soundtrack - 25th Anniversary Edition

The movie is like one of those Mondo magazines come to life. A cyberpunk-lite flick, its probably one of the better pieces of media in that genre (altho Strange Days is my number one cyberpunk movie, I'm sorry Blade Runner) and - besides the fashion - I think the soundtrack does a lot of the heavy lifting.

4. Streets of Fire

The movie and its soundtrack altered my brain chemistry.

5. Tactical Neural Implant by Front Line Assembly

The whole album is simultaneously diegetic to a typical cyberpunk nightmare world but also the soundtrack to a cyberpunk movie we never really got (Mindphaser does sample RoboCop 2 heavily so I suppose for the murky area of sampling and copyright you can't hear this in anything).

6. Ain't It Dead Yet? by Skinny Puppy (flashing images)

We are too far gone now to have a Skinny Puppy concert movie directed by either Frank Henenlotter, Brian Yuzna, or Stuart Gordon. But this still works. Also this is one of my favorite live albums.

7. It's My Life by Talk Talk

This makes me nostalgic for a summer that I've never experienced.

8. Mezzanine by Massive Attack

For a very long time my parents had this album and the very first track always stuck out to me as a kid. Fast forward a decade or two and I started my first attempt at playing VtM:B and the menu music sounded so familiar (learning that allegedly the guy who did the soundtrack was told "yeah we can't get the rights to this Massive Attack song so can you make one like it"). Although Risingson was the track I was most obsessed with for a while.

So long story short I'm obsessed with this group.

9. Forever by Cranes

I'm not usually a fan of that vocal style and I usually find it grating but somehow with Cranes it works for me.

This is another album that makes me think of an idealised version of the summer season. The second track, Cloudless is a personal fav.

10. Dead Can Dance by... Dead Can Dance

Bangin', pre-dates the wiccan/witchy revival nonsense of the mid-late 1990s but feels like it could have been on the soundtrack to the Craft.

honorable mentions: Bloodletting by Concrete Blonde, Tabula Rasa by Einsturzende Neubauten, Fat of the Land by The Prodigy, and Ecophony Rinne by the musical collective, Geino Yamashirogumi

[no1stayathomewife]

*Norton took a step inside his home, vaguely dazed and confused as to how he'd gotten there. He checked his watch, he'd just gotten home from work? Odd. He could've swore today was Monday, but it was Tuesday? Had his day really gone so fast that he'd forgotten what day it was?

He blinked a few more times, closing the door behind him and walking into the kitchen, it was late. Considering the time, he would've expected Sarah to be in bed already, but nope, there she was. The pot of food he was assuming she made was warming on the stove, having obviously been cooked hours ago. He sighed, frowning apologetically.

He dropped whatever stuff he brought home with him from work onto the counter to make room in his arms for a hug.*

I'm sorry I got home late again, sweetheart. Things have been really horrid at the office.

*Right, the cover job. He wasn't actually allowed to tell his wife about how he worked at P.E.I.P, he supposedly worked at an office for some Godforsaken reason, even though he hated offices in reality. He seriously had no clue why the organization gave him a fake office job.*

@peip-agent-no-5

[Sarah had been practically pacing the floor before she saw Norton's car pull into the driveway. Her biggest fear is that something got out of hand with P.E.I.P and he would come home hurt. She truly cared about him, loved him to a degree, if he'd gotten hurt..well she'd be utterly beside herself. Sarah had given up nursing when she married Norton, generally just tired of the long hours and ungrateful patients. With his supposed 'office job' he made more than enough money to support them both, and she was alright with staying home and making sure things were nice and comfortable for him.

The woman was a fairly kind person, soft-spoken, mostly kept to herself. That is, with literally everyone but Norton. She could let loose with him, really be herself, it was part of why she loved him as much as she did.

The meal that was sitting on the stove was pork-chops with a peach and honey glaze, a nice helping of green beans and carrots, roasted with that same glaze over top of them. She liked cooking for the both of them, it was almost a creative outlet for her. Notably, there were two servings of the meal, seeing as Sarah hadn't eaten yet.

When Norton made it a bit easier to do so, Sarah wrapped her arms around his midsection, leaning on him with a soft sigh of relief in her worn Playboy Bunny pajama pants and too big grey tee that was probably Norton's. She needed to feel the heat of his skin against hers, to hear his heart beating in his chest to know he was alive.]

That's okay, honey. I know things have been busier for you, there's absolutely no need to apologize.

[She looked up at him, studying his face. What kind of mental state would they leave him in today?]

Y'know what I think? I think they're pushing you too hard- I ought to go down there and give them a piece of my mind!

[She had a rather determined look in her eye too, playful of course, but there was probably some truth to it at least.]

[misc-obeyme]

Ok sorry super late but it's me the solobarb anon and yeah i was mostly talking about the art but i also find the story so silly

but anywyas about the art REOAOASFGFDSHQWHHSS first of all BARBATOS'S SHOULDERS?.$.@"!(1!$+1+"!$ i started to go insane im sure i transformed into a whole another being when i first saw that card i literally spammed my friend with it until she had to BLCOK ME for whole 5 minutes and only unblocked me when i promised to not spam her anymore 💔

AND SOLOMON'S FACE 😭😭😭 HE LOOKS SO CUTE THE LITTLE SCARY HAND POSE TOWARDS BARBATOS ONLY FOR BARBS TO LOOK BACK AG HIM LIKE HE WANTS HIM DEAD 😭😭😭 IM CRYING PLEASE

and yes i agree solobarb is way cuter when they're getting along but also JFDJWDSS angry Barbatos is so funny to me 😭 i was caught so off guard when i started to play nightbringer by the way he talks to solomon, i already shipped them before but nightbringer just made them jump to one of my biggest canon x canon ships in om

i see a lot of ppl theorizing Barbatos was mad at Solomon for another reason and just lied to mc because he doesn't trust them and tbh considering how long it took for him to open up to mc in the og game it's a very believable theory but also Barbatos getting mad at Solomon because he wasn't the first demon Solomon thought to make a pact with is very silly to me i love that part so much

also in the part of the story where mc says they'd like to do both of their ideas and Solomon just says they're greedy 😭😭😭 i hate that man so mMUCH /pos

(also is it just me or Solomon looks like he belongs in evangelion in that card like the art style looks so similar to me....)

Anon, you are not super late lol. If anything, I am the one who is late in responding... alas, I'm still always a day behind on asks...

Anyway, yes, Barb's shoulders which we so rarely get to see~ I am sayin' he looks like a freakin' bride!!

Solomon is always adorable but that funny lil rawr face is incredibly cute lol!!

I suppose you could say Nightbringer allows for them to have an enemies to lovers sort of story... and you could also rewrite the list thing to be a story about Barb feeling jealous in a boyfriend sort of way...

But dearest anon, I'm afraid I am one of those people who has theorized that Barb is lying to MC about his real reason for being mad at Solomon. I think the reason would have been funny if they hadn't made such a huge deal out of it. But Barbatos rarely displays that kind of emotion and to me it just didn't make sense for it to be something so minuscule, even if it is funny. It seems a little more plausible if you look at it through a shipping lens, though. Like if Barbatos really loves Solomon only to find that he only made it eighth on the list? That feels a little more likely to me. But even then, I feel like Barb's just not that dramatic about stuff lol. I could get into this further, but I digress!

Of course, I know a lot of people enjoyed that particular piece of the story and I'm not at all going to say that they shouldn't, so it's all good lol!

Solomon saying MC is greedy made me laugh, too! I was like exCUSE me, but you two can't agree on anything at the moment, what do you want me to do, choose a side!?!? I don't think so! If saying yes to my two faves makes me greedy, then just call me Mammon. >:(

I wish I could tell you if it was just you, but I'm not familiar enough with Evangelion to give you an opinion, I'm afraid. I'm just gonna say that you are probably right and should trust your instincts!!

[neopuff]

Little timeline I've been using in my GenRex fics. I know there's only supposed to be one year between Six finding Rex and Promises, Promises, but I don't like that it's such a short amount of time so I made it two years lol It's fine, I can ignore canon sometimes (slams my head thru drywall) I'm good at that it's fine

Rex is presumably 14 when Six finds him. They celebrate his 16th (or ?) birthday in Nov 2010, but when Caesar arrives they would learn Rex's real birthday (I picked April 'cause I wanted something earlier in the year) and so Rex would be 17 in S3

I also really want Rex to have had a blackout at some point while at Providence. I would've liked it to be earlier but the timeline really doesn't work out lol I mean it doesn't really work in timeline anyway but I don't caaaaaaare. Six says "You only remember the last 18 months" in Wasteland, which I assume is letting the audience know that 6 months have passed between Promises, Promises and Wasteland but I'm just shortening up that timeline. They can rebuild Providence HQ faster than that it's alright

Some notes:

One would've been an EVO for more than 5 years in Divide By Six but I figure it's okay to round down. 5 years sounds more dramatic than 5 and a half years

(Plus Caesar says he missed five years in Mixed Signals even though the Nanite Event was five years prior to The Day That Everything Changed, which means characters are doing a lot of rounding)

A Family Holiday would be Beverly's 18th birthday

This isn't referenced in the above image but I put Holiday at 33 and Six at 35 (start of series). Noah calling her 28 doesn't make her actually 28, he is a 16 year old boy he doesn't know how old women are

Holiday and Six got in less than a month of dating before Six Minus Six lol

And Six got about 2-3 weeks to get to know Rex before Lions and Lambs

Uhhh hmm. Anything else? Sorry I typed this all once and lost it all so I'm trying to remember what else I had.

OH YES a pre-Providence Rex timeline with a focus on his amnesia blackouts. Here we go:

Late 2004/Early 2005: Rex has an accident in Abysus. His family infuses him with nanites to help save his life. Rex has his first mini-blackout (not full amnesia, but he starts to have trouble remembering bits and pieces) due to the accident or the nanites it's hard to say. While his body adjusts to the nanites, he has a bunch of mini-blackouts and starts forgetting important things. He starts keeping a digital notebook around Feb/March 2005

April 2005: Nanite Event - Rex blacks out due to the shockwave/trauma/both. He turns into the Giant Robot EVO Thing and flies out of Europe. Heads in a random direction and ends up tired and without memory in Hong Kong. He still has his digital notebook and it's kind of the only thing that keeps him sane

Mid 2005 - Mid 2008: Rex in Hong Kong. He starts working for Quarry because he needs to make money/get food somehow. He also meets the Hong Kong Gang one-by-one and they become good friends, though Rex is secretive and anxious and paranoid. Incident with Scarecrow doesn't help.

Mid 2008: Rex knows he has family in Mexico thanks to an early entry in his digital notebook and decides he wants to find them. Quarry agrees to help Rex get to Mexico if he makes a deal with him. Rex hasn't blacked out in so long and is feeling confident about finding his family (Quarry told him he had a contact in Mexico City who would help Rex out) so he doesn't think he needs the notebook anymore. Quarry keeps it as collateral.

Nov 2008: Rex gets to Mexico but he is lost and scared and Quarry lied about having anyone there to help him out. Rex has another blackout (combination of stress and guilt) and turns into the Giant Robot EVO Thing again. Six finds him and brings him to Providence.

Aug 2009: Rex has another blackout while training with Six (something similar to what happened in Frostbite). Holiday and Six don't realize this is a Thing with him so they just start over from the beginning. Training is easier and faster now that they know how Rex's powers work and they're prepared for everything. Six gets Rex some goggles, Holiday gets Rex some gloves.

[mcfiddlestan]

First Lines

Thanks to @mischief-and-tea-by-the-sea for the tag! 💜

rules: list the first line(s) of your last 10 (or however many you have) posted fics and see if there’s a pattern!

"I don't have nightmares when you're there"

"We should probably get some rest."

Bucky managed a lazy grin and an equally lazy nod at Steve’s words but made no effort to rise from the long sofa in Stark’s penthouse lounge. The tower wasn’t exactly home, but it was the place where everyone came to recuperate and get a warm meal, especially after returning from a mission. Bucky and Steve had only come back a few hours ago from their latest mission, providing some not-necessarily-needed support for Shuri and the Wakandans. Who knew stopping human traffickers could cause so many body aches? A slight shift on the seat to sit up and he knew there was definitely a bruised rib somewhere.

2. The Christmas Date

"I need your help."

Loki stared at the man in the doorway for a good five seconds, lips a thin red line and perfectly groomed black brows arched in curiosity. The man, a neighbor a door or two down the hall, was very tall and handsome, Loki thought, taking the time to look him over, lips turning up in a soft grin.

"Good evening to you, too, 9B."

3. "Sorry I'm late" from 100 Ways to Say ILY prompt list

Of the many duties Loki performed for the Allfather, at the bottom of the list was keeping watch on one tiny all-night diner.  A favorite of his late mother’s, the Allfather purchased it shortly after her death to appease his mourning sons. Located in a less than stellar area of the neighborhood, it took Loki roughly thirty minutes to walk to it from his homey yet tiny apartment. He found it was easy to use for meetings, pickups and drop-offs, and the like. And the food happened to be better than one would expect, and Loki didn’t always have the time to cook for himself as he wished. Nor did he have the patience for baking, and the diner boasted a killer assortment of desserts. 

4. "Take my jacket, it's cold outside" from 100 Ways to Say ILY

Tony watched the lights of New York pass under the small airplane window, for the second time in three days. He wasn’t supposed to be leaving so soon, but the trip out east didn’t go quite the way he’d expected. Ironically, the anxiety that had filled him when he boarded the plane in Los Angeles had eased away now, replaced by a strange sense of emptiness. And a broken heart.

5. "You can have half" from 100 Ways to Say ILY

Tony burst through the kitchen’s swinging door, nearly tripping as he stumbled to get ahold of himself and spun around to look back out into the dining area. People wandered around the large dining table, picking at the snacks, and pouring drinks. One half was covered with bowls and trays of food, the other with bottles and jugs, large and small, of various liquors and a few liters of different sodas. If Maria Stark succeeded at teaching her son anything in the short time she had with him, it was how to host a good party. 

6. "I'm sorry for your loss" from 100 Ways to Say ILY

“How are they handling this?” Sif’s voice was soft as she approached Frigga. They were standing in the kitchen, Frigga watching her two grown sons as they greeted the family, friends, and strangers she wasn’t ready to face yet into the home she once shared with her husband. Her heart ached at the thought that she would be sleeping alone again in their bed tonight.

7. Take A Bow

Loki rushed through the narrow hallway, coughing to clear his throat of the makeshift fog that filled the stage for the final moments of the play. By the time he reached the haven of his dressing room, his neck tie was undone and his shirt was half unbuttoned. The hurried shouts and stomps of people working backstage were blissfully drowned out as Darcy, his new young assistant, quickly closed the door behind him.

8. "I saved you a piece." from 100 Ways to Say ILY

Tony was in a bad place again. Thankfully, Loki had been with him long enough to recognize the telltale signs of an oncoming episode, varied as they could be. And he'd learned, through no easy trials, how to care for his beloved, what to do and not do, how to get him to eat and drink even when he didn’t want to. Loki was only grateful he could handle Tony.

9. "Take my seat" from 100 Ways to Say ILY

Loki loathed the schoolbus.

If Odin and Frigga would just trust him with a car, he wouldn’t have to depend on Thor to get home. Or suffer through the indignity of boarding the bus with the nerds and geeks of the freshman and sophomore variety. He wasn’t the only upperclassman who rode the bus, sure, but it was still embarrassing.

10. "I dreamt about you last night" from 100 Ways to Say ILY

“I dreamt about you last night.”

Tony smiled softly, affectionately.

“I don’t know where we were. Didn’t feel like Earth. Maybe it was some far off, distant place you visited a millennia ago. A galaxy far, far away,” he joked halfheartedly. “It was beautiful though. I’ve never seen a sky so blue. I think the atmosphere was…I don’t know. Different? You were…”

He looked up, grinning wistfully, remembering.

“Your skin was blue. With these markings. You told me about them once. When the light of the moons hit you…it was like snow glistening in the sun. You shined.”

Ok, so I did more than one line. Sue me. I don't follow rules well sometimes. 😁

Tagging @ishipanarmada @rabentochter @qwanderer @bouncydragon and anyone else who wants to play.

xoxo

[kallurances]

s1e1 the rise of voltron (pt 1) liveblog

inexplicably, i've been thinking a lot abt voltron lately and suffice to say, I Am Not Immune to Voltron U_U i'm rewatching the series again and i thought it would be fun to document my thoughts and rxns! so, *ryan bergara voice* w/o further ado, let's get into this

the show opens on shiro (and the rest of the kerberos crew)! i can’t believe the opening lines to one of the most infamous cartoons of all time was smth as boring as ice AGSJDL but wow this escalates pretty quickly

this shot of shiro’s eyes widening in horror as he’s being dragged by the galra is so chilling, my poor guy T-T

garrison trio time!

god lance is pretty

interesting how lance’s introduction is him acting as the trio’s leader during the mission simulation - obv the simulation was a bust, but it’s cool that our first glimpse at the character was him trying to keep the team functioning together under a high pressure situation (which he will go on to do again and again!) and it’s interesting how he ‘fails’ in this leadership role here, and then fails in becoming the black lion's pilot in s3 as well. hmmmm

also the fact the kerberos mission had a trio too, are the garrison trio supposed to parallel that? lance - shiro are the pilot leaders obv, pidge - matt are the comm guys? hunk - sam are the engineers? or maybe the other way around

pidge getting angry at iverson and lance diverting attention away from her onto him !!! this boy is always looking out for others bless his heart

oh man this shot of lance as iverson rubs salt into his wounds :( i wonder if this was the root of his insecurities . . . how he projects this ‘rivalry’ onto keith was def a result of how he was always being compared to him, feeling very Sad that we literally never got a satisfying resolution to this piece of characterization El Oh El

i like lance a lot could you tell

overall, i rlly love the garrison simulation, it’s such a great scene in introducing 3 more main characters and setting up another one, and then digging into what makes 2 of them tick . . . that’s good writing! trying to savor it while it lasts lol

lance and hunk go try to get pidge sneak out with them! i like how hunk doesn’t want to be doing this, but he’s not going to let lance do this alone lol (he’s a support)! and lance places such a big emphasis on team cohesion and bonding, yup!!! he keeps the team together! that is his role as a supporting leg! they’re both the supporting legs!!!

lance is so good at reading people, love how smoothly he slid into that “that right? all the way to kerberos?” line. he’s observant and great at picking up social nuances i lov my social butterfly

hunk is sooo cute i love how he needs to get a feel of the cool tech asap

aw man seeing shiro being strapped down and struggling :( they never gave this guy a break huh

keith intro!

the fact he gets introed through lance’s eyes lol it will never not crack me up how iverson was telling him not to follow in his footsteps, and then lance went and did exactly that LOL

also lance going "we need a distraction" and keith immediately providing one, they have been a good team since day 1!!!

god this keith was so cool. the bandana? planting bombs on military property? these badass moves? Sick. S6-onward keith could never

love the way lance talks it’s so funny

and keith doesn’t rmbr him OUCH side note love how they’re both supporting an unconscious shiro, def a nod to how lance supports keith as a leader in s3

im sorry but i understand why klancers were/are insane like what a hell of a first meeting

this bike chase scene is probably in my top 5 voltron scenes lol so iconic

god keith is pretty

keith’s desert shack! this moment btwn shiro and keith is so lovely, love the bg of the breaking dawn as shiro slowly readjusts to being free from his captors

hunk is a genius, and luv how lance hyped him up! also love how nosy hunk is hehe, such a fun character trait

this lance and shiro moment! the way he was genuinely a bit awestruck aww shiro was his idol!!! it makes me so mad every time i rmbr they proceeded to do nothing with this relationship like THE POTENTIAL.

god lance is pretty pt 2

blue and lance were besties from the start ohhh im gonna throw up thinking abt how they just threw that relationship into the trash too

like she chose him! out of all the possible candidates, she chose him, the seemingly average guy, she waited when keith (the pilot prodigy!) was hanging around for a yr or so bc she wanted lance! im gonna cry

lance is having so much fun!!! i feel like this is a trait that got lost in later seasons iirc, like he loves piloting and he loves being in a lion (esp blue)! look how excited he is aww

scream the garrison saw the blue lion in the desert . . . was this acknowledged in the s7 garrison plot like was it at this moment they started preparing for alien entities?

help not hunk suggesting they just give blue up . . . yeah he's not exactly lining up to become a protector of the universe, but that's what his s1 arc is all about!!! he has to learn to not be so hesitant and that he can make a difference

i like how lance and the rest of them defer to shiro, and then shiro places an emphasis on deciding their next course of action together . . . *abed nadir voice* It Was At This Moment They Stopped Being Strangers and Started Being a Team

so funny how lance obv looks up to shiro and respects him a lot but he couldn't pass up an opportunity to make a fart joke in front of him lol

the castle of lions!!! it does an identity scan, how does it determine that they’re not adversaries? maybe it picked up smth on their quintessences that marked their connection to their lions or smth like that?

i love the majestic-techno feel of the castle of lions, but dang seeing it so empty and hollow . . . :( can you imagine how lovely it must have been in altea’s heyday

also who built this bridge leading to the castle??? maybe the arusians?

PRINCESS ALLURA IS HERE!!! my love my light my stars and moon and sun

side note this would have made a pretty iconic ~meetcute~ btwn the potential endgame romance if lance hadn’t immediately flirted and tried to be ~suave~ . . . my least fav aspect of his character, im glad they dropped this by s3, but i do wish they had made him acknowledge in the show that this kind of behavior was Not It

actually ykw i don’t trust the writers to handle that so ill just be glad that they dropped it ig

side side note the healing pod area washes out the brown skinned members so bad RIP lance looks particularly awful sorry bb 😔

i forgot abt allura hating on earth ears i screamed

the way coran seems more alert than allura when waking up ohhhh i would like to know how his final moment with alfor went

this scene btwn coran and lance doing attack moves at e/o is so funny like scream this rlly captured how teen boys are, and hunk going "these guys are good" 😭

also notice how lance is the common factor in the whole gang getting together? he drags out hunk to the desert bc he wants to bond with pidge, he is the one who follows keith and helps him save shiro, he is the one the blue lion accepts and kickstarts the whole space adventure, he is the one who catches allura, he's even first one to interact with coran

allura is the heart of voltron, and lance is the glue maybe? it's a blue paladin thing

flashback to altea's last day ohhh :''' the stress lines under allura’s eyes my baby 😞

how did haggar sense allura waking up? was it bc of the blue lion’s awakening or?

oh shit sendak

will continue thoughts in a pt 2 post!