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klausysworld · 3 months

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His Favourite Little Hybrid

Klaus had been away in Portland, Oregon to find and turn werewolves into his own personal hybrids. The trip had been far more successful than his one with Stefan which further proved that should he need things done efficiently, doing them alone was better.

So far he had 19 hybrids, turned and sired to his every word.

Klaus's pride was running high and his ego inflamed as he snapped the neck of the young women who had just taken a sip from his bloody wrist and let her body drop. It took a few minutes for her to reawaken, eyes bloodshot and stomach clenching in starvation. Klaus watched as her eyes darted to meet his, her head immediately bowing in both fear and submission. Slowly he crouched down to where she lay and slipped his hand to her jaw, lifting her face to look at her properly.

"That's a good girl" He murmured as she followed his gaze and crawled closer to him making the original smirk. Silently he held out his hand for one of the other hybrids to place a blood bag of doppelgänger blood in his grasp. Klaus brought it to her lips and tipped it down her throat. Without warning the girl began to gag and splutter, coughing the blood straight back out and onto Klaus's shirt. His face pulled to one of confusion and anger as he watched her panic. As soon as the realisation kicked in that she had spat it out on her sire she became overwhelmed with fear. Her emotions were peaked and she desperately tried to scrub the blood away with her hands. Klaus pulled her hands off of him, shushing her apologetic cries and telling her to calm down which she did without comprehension.

Klaus lifted her up with ease and sat down on a camping chair with her in hold. "It's alright love" He mumbled, "we'll figure out why that didn't work." he convinced though he wasn't quite sure what was wrong. Every other wolf had adapted to the transition almost immediately. He allowed her to curl against him as he thought for a moment on what could possibly have gone wrong, she drank his blood and died and then drank Elena's. That was all that was needed.

With a frustrated sigh he stood up and sat her down in the chair. "I'll be back" he muttered before walking back toward the portable cooler filled with Elena's blood. Footsteps followed him and he turned to find the same almost-hybrid looking up at him like a lost puppy. She clutched onto his bloody henley as he walked, staying close while he pulled out another bag of blood.

"Try this one love" He commanded, handing it to her with curiosity. Without question she did as she was told and took a gulp but her face immediately paled and Klaus quickly stepped to the side as she coughed it back out. The frown on his face deepened and he bent down to her height whilst his hand rest on the small of her back. "You are a werewolf aren't you love?" He asked, confused. She nodded with a sniffle and glanced up at him,

"I'm sorry" she whimpered but he shook his head.

"I don't believe this is your fault" he replied, his mind whirling with questions

"Will I die?" She asked quietly, weakly.

"No sweetheart. No I'll find what you need" He mumbled, "stay here, don't run off, understand?"

She nodded in reply and sat down onto the dirty ground. She was most definitely sired, he just didn't understand why she couldn't accept the blood. He was on the phone to witches in a fit of anger and a list of questions. Much to his disappointment and annoyance, nobody had an answer.

He returned to the girl empty handed, he found her lead against the same spot he left her in, skin slowly going grey as she trembled from the cold that she shouldn't have been able to feel. Klaus bent down beside her, his hand gently stroking her hair. He felt diminished by her dying. He had no way of overcoming or understanding it and she very clearly just wanted him to help her. It was bizarre how easily she had accepted his dominance, the other hybrids although sired still resisted. It was only when his wrist went over her face as he pet her head that she peeked her heavy eyes open.

The hunger returned within milliseconds and little veins scattered under her eyes. A small whine left her as sharp fangs alongside her werewolf canines pushed through her gums. Klaus's brows pulled together in intrigue as he presented his wrist for her teeth. With his permission she latched into him, her hands lifting to grab ahold of his hand so he couldn't pull away while she fed. Klaus's head tilted slightly and his lips parted as the intimate sensation of blood sharing shuddered throughout his body. Her tongue licked at his skin as she pulled herself off him and accepted his assistance when standing up.

She held onto his arm as he lead her through the woods, he called for the others to follow as he got to his car. It took a while and a lot of stolen borrowed vehicles to get back to Mystic Falls. He put his hybrids to work, including his last one: Y/n her name turned out to be and she was more than happy to do as he said.

The other hybrids could already see the favouritism that Klaus had for Y/n and turned on her because of it. She quickly fell to the bottom of this 'pack' though she never went to Klaus about it and whenever he was around, the others behaved how he would like so that he wouldn't suspect their bullying.

Klaus would have to stop by every day, to see the progress of his home but also to feed Y/n who relied solely on his blood. She was a clingy little thing but also most obedient and most eager so he didn't mind.

Once he moved in, he told his hybrids to compel themselves apartments or hotels, whatever they wanted. However nobody had taught Y/n what compelling was or how to do so and she was afraid to ask, besides she just wanted to be near her sire. So she would simply not rest and would hide in the mansion, being quiet down in the cellar so Klaus wasn't disturbed when he was painting or being entertained by a woman.

For some reason it hurt Y/n that her sire slept with other women, in her mind it meant that he didn't think she was enough for him. Why hadn't he asked her to satisfy him? She didn't understand but she knew that it made her feel worthless, empty.

It took weeks for Klaus to realise Y/n had been staying in the cellar at night. He had gone down to grab a bottle of wine for his... guests when he spotted his sweetest little hybrid leaning against the cold brick wall. Eyes closed and chest slowly moving with each deep breath.

"Y/n, love?" He called gently, kneeling down and gently reaching for her arm. Her eyes flew open in alarm and she flinched away from his touch causing her head to smack the back of the wall. Klaus hissed as though he could feel her pain and pulled her into his lap. "Sh sh, it doesn't hurt sweetheart" he told her and just like that, the pain was gone. He held the back of her head gently and kissed her temple softly. "Forgive me my lovely. I didn't mean to frighten you, nor cause you pain" he apologised, still frowning even as he felt her calm down. "Why are you down here sweet girl?" Klaus questioned, his tone kind.

"Sleeping" She mumbled, rubbing her eyes with a small stretch "Is it morning?"

"No, love. Why are you sleeping down here?" He asked, confused and concerned.

Y/n looked up at him in response and hesitantly opened her mouth. She was unable to lie to her sire but embarrassment made her resist "I don't want to tell you" she whimpered quietly and he tilted his head. Klaus opened his mouth to speak but the sound of drunken giggling echoed down the stairs drawing his attention and making Y/n move away from him and back to her corner.

Two girls made their way down into the cellar, asking for Klaus to come back upstairs. One of them spotted Y/n on the ground and teased that she could join them making Klaus's wolf growl warningly under the surface. "That won't be necessary" He dismissed as he pulled Y/n to her feet. Klaus proceeded to compel both girls to go home without the memory of ever meeting him.

"Come on love" he encouraged, taking her hand and guiding her up the stairs before going up again and leading her to his bedroom though she hesitated to sit down on his bed when he asked her to and he noticed her reluctance. "What's wrong?" He asked but she shook her head and sat down on the edge.

Klaus bent down and pecked the top of her head sweetly before pulling open his drawers and grabbing an old shirt. Y/n's cheeks went pink when he began to undress her. The room was quiet as he pulled the top over her head and slid her bra out from underneath it. His hands were careful with where he touched before tossing her clothes away and pulling back the covers.

"In you get my love, you need a proper rest if you've been sleeping down in the cellar." He ordered, smiling when she did as he said and curled up against the mattress and snuggling the duvet when he wrapped it round her. His warmth enveloped her as he slipped in behind her, his body wrapping around hers protectively. Something about having his favourite little hybrid cuddled up in his bed made his body hum softly and for her, having her sire, her master holding her so close made her feel content.

They fell asleep quickly and slept solidly throughout the night. Y/n woke when the sun did, and slowly turned to face Klaus's sleeping face. A blush overtook her soft cheeks as she nuzzled to him for comfort and remained there until he woke.

Klaus let her feed from him before telling her to do as she pleased for the day while he took care of his own business.

Night and night she found herself in his bed, in his arms. When she didn't come to him, he came to find her and bring her back. Klaus could feel his affections for his hybrid beginning to grow. She had no ill intentions and was utterly lovely, always obedient and never failed to please him. Y/n was, by far, his favourite little hybrid.

The others knew this and hated her for it. Klaus was cruel to his other hybrids and treated them like puppets while whispering pretty little things into Y/n's ear and petting her hair like she was the most delicate flower in the world.

Even when Stefan was threatening Klaus to send his hybrids away, he wasn't stupid enough to bring Y/n into it. In fact he tried to compromise.

"You can keep the small one" Stefan offered making Klaus narrow his eyes. "You know which one I mean. The pretty one, Y/n right?" he pressed and Klaus's gaze hardened. "She can stay, she's harmless but I want the rest need to be gone by morning"

"Or what?" Klaus questioned, his anger rising. "Or I'll get rid of them, and her." He finished before disappearing.

Klaus was furious and even more so when he found that Y/n had been listening and was now terrified that she would die. Of course it was easy enough for him to calm her down but knowing that Stefan had upset her so much made his rage rise. With much reluctance he sent his other hybrids away and kept Y/n inside at all times.

Over the next week Klaus was tense all of the time as he grew more and more frustrated as a result of still not having his coffins back. Y/n tried her best to be there for him but sometimes he frightened her and she would go down into the cellar to be out of the way.

It was only because Klaus needed a drink that he went down there again and found her asleep on the floor again. His anger left him and he carried her back up to his room with a small frown etched into his face. Her body curled to his automatically as he lay against her again and he promised to be kinder to her.

Eventually he got his family back and thought he could relax however Elijah turned out to be undaggered. He had appeared infront of Klaus and behind Y/n, Klaus could immediately sense the danger over his girl and had Elijah by the throat before he could smack Y/n's head off her shoulders. The two brothers threw each other across the room, smashing the furniture and ruining the downstairs. Y/n was hidden behind one of the sofas, her claws extended and clinging onto a pillow as she squeezed her eyes shut to block out the urge to save her sire. Klaus had commanded that should someone attack, she must hide which went directly against her instincts as his hybrid.

Eventually Klaus and Elijah calmed some what and were both stood panting heavily. Elijah glanced toward the soft sniffles and so did Klaus. Elijah noticed his brothers expression drop and his legs carry him over to the source of the cries.

"It's okay love" he whispered, picking her up "Don't be afraid" he told her, looking down at her eyes to watch the fear drain from them. She remained tense and on edge but the tears stopped and he was able to wipe them away. Elijah approached making Klaus growl warningly and place Y/n behind him protectively "Not her." he stated with no space more questions. "Y/n go to bed. I'll be there soon, I want you to relax" He ordered and she nodded, running upstairs and into his room.

He spoke with Elijah about their fathers demise and how their mother was still being held by the Salvatores as leverage. They spoke of a lot before Klaus explained Y/n's being here.

"She's sired to you" Elijah stated and Klaus nodded

"Of course she is, she's my hybrid" he answered

"And she sleeps with you?" Elijah questioned

"Not like that, we just sleep" Klaus mumbled and his brother nodded unconvinced

"Niklaus... you remember what happened the last time a girl was sired to you..." Elijah murmured with furrowed brows, concern swirling in his eyes at Klaus's intentions.

"I don't make Y/n do anything she doesn't want to." He snapped back, offended by the accusation

"You might not mean to-"

"I have not touched her!" The original hybrid yelled, getting to his feet.

"Niklaus." Elijah sighed, rising to follow his temperamental sibling. "This girl does not know what she feels or wants. She just knows she has to make you happy. It's clear you care for her, I don't believe you want to bring her displeasure however you must understand how easy it would be to do something with her that she doesn't truly desire."

"She's my hybrid, mine. I won't have you meddling and scaring her." He muttered before heading up the stairs to lay with his girl and assure that she was safe and in his hold.

Klaus kept her away from Elijah as his feelings progressed. Without thinking, every now and then Klaus would peck Y/n's lips in greeting or goodbye. Y/n wouldn't dare question it, she loved the attention and affection he gave her and wouldn't ever ask for it to stop. Soft touches became more common, a hand on her thigh or waist as he shifted closer to her. Often he would need her to be in his lap and listening to his plans while he twirled her hair in between his fingers and brushed his hands across her skin subtly to sooth his wolf.

But when Hayley came into town, staying with Tyler and helping the other hybrids break their sire bonds, Klaus began to pull away a little. He found himself busy more and more in search for the cure, keeping Rebekah at bay and dealing with supernatural vampire hunters.

The other hybrids knew Y/n wouldn't want to break her sire bond. They knew she would run to her master and tell him what they've been doing. So they left her in the dark again.

Y/n began to feel more and more isolated. Klaus told her to not go outside without him there but he was almost never home and with everyone else pretending she didn't exist, she had gotten much lonelier.

Despite Klaus compelling her to not feel sadness or negative things, the feeling still lingered in the back of her mind. No matter how hard she tried to comply with his commands and only be happy, the lack of touch, socialisation and most importantly her sires affection or approval began to take its toll. When Klaus forgot to feed her his blood, she began to fade. Klaus would often forget about her when he was busy, he didn't mean to and as soon as he had a moment to he would give her some attention but that became more and more rare the past few weeks.

It was because of this that she was far too weak to fight off the other hybrids when they chained her up in the cellar, when they forced wolvesbane down her throat before stuffing a vervain drenched cloth into her mouth so she couldn't yell out for help. None of them looked even the slightest bit guilty or remorseful as they left, planning to kill Klaus.

Unfortunately for them, Klaus was far more powerful and tore each one of them apart. As he approached the twelfth hybrid, only one question lingered on his mind.

"Where is Y/n?" He seethed. He had naturally assumed that she too had betrayed him and didn't understand how she could do so. The hybrid only shook their head,

"She would never help us" they rasped and Klaus's gaze softened for a second.

"Where?" He repeated

"Home" they whispered before having their head swiftly removed.

Klaus tore his home apart in search of his girl, it only occurred to him that she would be in the cellar after he had smashed every piece of furniture on the middle floor. Without hesitation he sped down there.

His heart stopped as he watched her sob on the ground, her face was covered by the cloth but he could see and hear the sizzling of her skin. Hurriedly he sped over and knelt beside her, ripping the gag out of her mouth and allowing her broken screams to break free while he broke the chains off of her throat and wrists.

"I'm so sorry" he whispered, tearing his own wrist open and pushing it to her mouth. Her cries were muffled as he pulled her into his lap and poured his mouth down her swollen throat. Klaus kissed her forehead repeatedly whilst encouraging her to keep drinking even after her wounds were healed. She went quiet after a while and pulled away from both his arm and him. Klaus pulled her back to him and brought her lips to his. Y/n couldn't help the tears that dropped again as her sire kissed her so deeply.

His hands held her face gently as he urged her mouth open so that he may express his love for her in the ways he knew how to. He needed her to stay with him, to never leave him.

Passion was poured from him to her as he brought her upstairs to their bed, she was laid down on her back while he leant over her. It was only when he finally let her lips free from his that she was able to notice the sheer amount of blood that soaked through his suit and stained his skin. Her expression changed to one of worry as her hands felt for any injuries.

"It's alright love" He murmured softly, kissing her hands softly "It isn't mine" he explained and she swallowed down the lump in her throat. The others had been cruel to her even before Klaus. She was seen as the runt of the pack. She was gullible and docile. She had no characteristics of a werewolf and didn't belong with them. They deserved it, she knew that but she couldn't use their death to mark her relationship with Klaus.

Klaus felt her withdrawal and looked down at her with a soft sigh. A soft kiss was pressed to her cheek before he moved off her and stood back up. Y/n sat up before getting off the bed and following him into the bathroom. She helped him wash the blood away from his skin despite the way it made her gag and squirm. Eventually they went to sleep with the promise of each others comfort for the times to come.

They remained close and Klaus grew some how more protective until the only way it could be described was as possessive. He couldn't imagine her ever being in so much pain again, it was so strong that it broke her compulsion of his. Klaus had only compelled Y/n to block out any negative emotions because he didn't like that she would feel so sad or think lowly of herself. It was the only way he thought would help. However it also meant that she was always thinking so positively of him, even when he did something truly awful.

It made her sirebond grow as well as her affections until she was convinced that she was truly in love with him. She thought he loved her back. He did, but the memory of Elijahs words spun round his head. He couldn't take advantage of their bond, he wouldn't hurt her or violate her, he just couldn't. So he tried to distract himself. He had told her to go out for once and have some fun.

While she was gone, Hayley Marshall came over to negotiate some information. One thing lead to another and he had her against a wall, cock buried inside her and clothes on the floor. His eyes were closed as he pictured Y/n's face while he fucked the werewolf until she screamed.

Under no circumstances in his head, had Y/n come back so early.

It was completely unexpected. She had bumped into Damon Salvatore who had both scared and upset her in a short amount of time making her want her sire for some comfort.

Her hope was soon diminished when she pushed the doors open and saw such a scarring scene. Klaus had only broken out of his thoughts when Hayley let out a squeak and whispered for him to stop. He lifted his head in confusion before catching sight of a horrified Y/n. quickly she spun round and sped away making Klaus yell out. He pulled out of Hayley, muttering an apology as he dragged his trousers back on and running after his sweet girl.

He found her back down in the cellar once again.

Klaus knew she wouldn't understand. He also knew that she shouldn't have to try to. He could feel the guilt filling him and he hugged her to his chest and felt her body tremble with whimpers as she tried to push those negative feelings away.

"It's okay my lovely, you can feel angry and upset now" He whispered, prepared for her to yell or fight at him but she only cried. She cried for so long that he wondered how she had any tears left to give.

She had been both traumatised and heart broken all at once but she also knew that he was the only one that could calm her, soothe her soul. So she tried to pretend that it hadn't happened.

Klaus tried as well but he could see the hurt in her eyes constantly. He had explained to her that it wasn't because he didn't love her, that he was so sorry and that he never wanted her to feel that way. She just shook her head and said she was being silly, they weren't together and neither of them had asked to change that. Had she of been any other girl perhaps he wouldn't have cared so much but she was his little hybrid and he couldn't believe the pain he had caused.

Klaus tried his best to spend time with her and make her smile but he wasn't so sure if she was smiling because she wanted to or because she knew that he wanted her to.

He began to wonder that about a lot of things. If she was just doing things because he wanted her to.

The one thing he knew that she definitely did like for herself was physical affection. So he made extra effort in doing so. It didn't take long for her to be curled against his side again, head on his chest and her hands in his while they watched a movie together.

Things sweetened for a small time before they soured once more.

Only this time it wasn't changeable.

Hayley was pregnant with Klaus's baby. Apparently they had still both had a good enough time before Y/n's interruption that night.

Y/n's light dulled when she found out. She was very conflicted. Part of her hated that Klaus was having a baby with somebody else, part of her put herself at fault for not offering herself to him so that he hadn't turned to another girl in the first place and the last part of her, the sired part, told her to be quiet and supportive. She should be seeing how she could help and promising to put her life on the line for this child.

Y/n tried so hard to do that.

But the other Mikaelsons weren't very grateful nor nice to her or her help. Hayley only felt awkward about her and any other supernaturals were uncomfortable in a hybrids presence.

It took months for her to pluck up the courage but eventually she went to Klaus.

"I think maybe I should go?" She whispered quietly, drawing his attention away from his painting.

"Go where sweetheart?" he questioned, his features twisting to a frown.

"I don't know...I just...I think that maybe I shouldn't be here anymore?" She murmured, eyes on the ground and her head screaming 'no'.

"Why not love?" He asked, putting his brush down.

"You don't really need me any more... you have all those vampires and stuff. Plus the baby will be here soon and well...I'd probably be in the way so.." she trailed, her words quiet and unsure.

Klaus could tell as she spoke that this was her way of saying that she couldn't watch him play house with another women. Especially since they still hadn't progressed their relationship. He understood that he was somewhat stringing her along, it was just that he didn't want to let go. But now he knew that he had to.

And so, with much reluctance, he agreed.

"If that's what you want" He whispered, stepping close to her. She nodded hesitantly and felt herself go rigid as his arms enveloped her before she softened and melted against him.

Over the next couple days, he had witches finding a way to help her digest human blood, he set her up a bank account and some identification so that she may start fresh wherever she chose to before having to do something he never wanted to do. Unfortunately the only way for her to be able to move away and on with her life without feeling such terrible guilt for leaving her sire or the urge to come back to him was for her to forget that he existed.

Klaus watched as she looked up at him in confusion before apologising and explaining that she was in a rush to get to the airport and wasn't looking where she was going. He told her it was okay and that she should try be careful to which she smiled and agreed before continuing on her journey, leaving Klaus to wonder where it may take her.

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hotheadedhero · 2 months

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In Unrequited Love

Love and relationships can't be forced but sometimes they can be built on common ground and an understanding of one another's tribulations.

Part 2 here

Donatello x Reader

Having a crush on someone sucks. Having a crush on someone who has eyes for someone else sucks even more. This is the sad truth of your current circumstances. You knew that high school would come with its challenges but you weren’t prepared for the fact that you’d fall for the careless, hockey-loving maniac from your math class. It began with a casual friendship before feelings deepened on your end. Feelings that wouldn’t seem so terrible were it not for April O’Neil. You have absolutely nothing against the girl but it’s clear as day that she unfortunately has Casey’s heart in her stronghold. It’s not like you could even vent these frustrations, given that the only friends you have happen to be those two people.

Then, through some shenanigans that seem like the norm for you now, you meet four turtle brothers - one of whom is in the same boat as you. Not to mention, between the very two friends in question. Were it not heartbreaking to witness each other trying your hardest to grab the attention of your crushes, you’d find some humour in this.

You tried hanging out with Raphael more in an attempt to get in close quarters with Casey, seeing as they’re practically tied at the hip, only for you to realise that the rough-and-tumble environment isn’t your strong suit. That’s when they both suggested you try your hand at assisting Donatello in his laboratory given your aptitude for the sciences. What they failed to realise is that you do well in class but that doesn’t inherently mean you enjoy it. Theoretical sciences and learning about how things work are interesting but there aren’t enough practical applications that allow you to engage in the school environment. The closest you’ve gotten to having fun was when you made “elephant toothpaste” for a chemistry lesson but that’s about it.

Nonetheless, you see no harm in passing by the lab and giving the brainiac brothers a visit. Other than your not-so-subtle pining towards the other humans in the group, nothing has been outwardly mentioned about the situation you are both in. Neither of you has hung out enough to have that conversation. It wouldn’t be weird to talk about it, would it? A query that shall not yet receive an answer seeing as you’ve already knocked on the large, metal door. You walk through the open garage to see a couple of legs poking out from under the battle shell.

“Huh? Oh! (Y/n), sorry- Ow!” He slides out from beneath the vehicle and rubs the fresh bruise forming on his head. “Sorry, I’m a little busy, right now. I think Leo is watching Space Heroes if you’re looking for someone to hang out with, though.”

“Actually, I came by to see if you needed any help,” you offer, holding your hands behind your back respectfully whilst also trying not to laugh.

His eyes widen, having not expected such a proposal, and he’s quick to scramble to his feet. “Oh, okay! Let’s see- uh… how are you with engine repairs?”

“Depends.” Your tongue clicks contemplatively. “Is it gas, electric, or hybrid?”

“That already tells me you know more than enough,” he chuckles. “Here, I’ll show you.”

He opens the hood of the van to reveal the ensemble of burnt-out parts and overworked mechanisms. The guys’ last mission must have been intense because this engine is almost in complete disarray. Were it not for the fact that your Uncle is a mechanic, you’d be sweating under the pressure of somehow ruining this heap of metal more than it already is. A probability still if you want to jinx your person but that’s getting ahead of yourself.

Donatello gestures towards a box of spare parts and holds the back of his neck. “These just need to be taken out and replaced. It’s probably the easiest of what needs doing but I also need to finish rewiring the brakes, check the throttle calibration, replenish the weapons ammunition-”

“You need an extra set of hands to get it done quicker,” you cut him off with a smile. “I’ll see what I can do.”

He bares a gap-toothed smile in response and nods before resuming his initial position beneath the vehicle to finish the brake wiring. This leaves you to begin on your assigned job. For starters, you’re glad that this is a case of piecemeal repair rather than a complete engine rebuild. You’d be out of your depth were that the case. You start by pulling the entire engine out via a hoist, assisted by a load levelling bar so that it doesn’t tilt at a funny angle. Then, you secure it onto a stand and glance over what you’re working with. The crankshaft, piston ring compressor, oil filter, and fan need the most attention, so you start with those first. Just to save the disturbance, you look into a few tutorials on your phone to make sure you’re doing it correctly.

During this entire time, the two of you work on separate parts of the battle shell in silence, seemingly content with your tasks. By now, Donnie has moved on to tightening the wheels’ lug holes. Admittedly, you had been concerned about a lack of things to talk about but this is a nice settlement. It’s certainly the most relaxed you’ve felt in a while; something to keep you distracted from the quelling of your hopeless romantic attraction. Plus, you have this sense of relief from finally being able to work on something with your hands rather than straining your brain over textbooks and pop quizzes.

"Question,” he starts abruptly, keeping his eyes on the centre cap of the wheel. “What’s it you like so much about that cave mouth?"

First, you blink quickly to yourself, having not expected to get into the nitty gritty of it so soon. So much for being distracted but you can’t be mad. Curiosity isn’t something to be berated. Then, you find yourself snickering at the mildly degrading nickname. The question may appear brash but he’s puzzled by why April seems to like Casey so much. Hearing it from you might give him the insight he needs to turn the odds in his favour. He’ll take anything at this point.

"I dunno. There's just this air to him that I like. He's an ass, I am well aware of that, but he's fun, you know?” you admit awkwardly. “Psh! Don't ask me to explain it. You can't really put that stuff into words." You squint down at him, lips poised mockingly. "What is it you like about April so much?"

He halts his own task and glances down at his hands, cheeks reddening as he thinks about the girl of his dreams. "She just... had my heart from the first moment I saw her."

"Wow. The first girl you ever see in your life and it's just like that.” Yes, that bit of information is known thanks to our dear Raphael. “'Pretty shallow to fall in love with someone based on looks if you ask me."

"You would know,” he scoffs sarcastically.

"Now you're calling Casey ugly?” you ask, both playful and moderately offended on your crush’s behalf. “Man, you really don't like him."

"I’m sure the same goes for you with April!"

"Hey! I don't stoop so low into my dissatisfaction of the circumstances to insult her." A wry grin then beckons your lips. "Although~"

"Whatever you think you're going to say, don't."

The staring match doesn't last long, breaking beneath a shared laugh; fond and unwilted by the ache in your hearts, which has been forgotten for a split moment to enjoy each other's company.

From that point on, that’s precisely what you did. More often than not, you found yourself in the confines of his garage, assisting him with the occasional doohickey and thingymabob. Even if there wasn’t much you could help with, you wound up being a decent lab partner in any case. In turn, he would offer to help you with your homework if you had any particularly difficult assignments. Your grades have never looked so good. When neither of you were doing that, you’d simply hang out and rant about little annoyances with your unreciprocated infatuations.

“I mean, I try some jokes here and there but nothing seems to land,” he concedes begrudgingly, throwing his body weight into the back of his chair.

“Can I hear one?” you inquire as you gently swing around in your own seat.

His lips press together and he mulls it over before sighing, “Okay, so, you remember how I told you about Metal Head?” You nod, to which he continues, “Well, the first time I took him out for a spin, we were on watch duty together. That’s when I asked her if she likes metal.”

He groans to himself as he replays the memory in his head, only now realising how corny that must have sounded at the time. However, you laugh and not the heckling kind either. Your head tilts back into your chair, knees lifting to compensate for the tension in your shaking stomach. How could April have not loved something as precious as that? The girl must be crazy because that would have worked on you in a heartbeat.

“You should’ve asked if her favourite dance move is the robot,” you say in between laughs. “No, wait, wait! I got a better one! Ask her out to the circuits for a date!”

Donatello can only smile at your self-induced amusement, happy that there’s an appreciation for nerdy pickup lines and puns. They may not work on his crush - and his brothers sure don’t find them that funny - but he’s glad at least one person around here gets it.

It felt good to know that you had a friend you could be closer to because of your mutual understanding. For the first time since you realised your feelings for your schoolmate, you didn’t feel so alone. This bond formed on cluttered affection may have seemed unlikely to begin with but who are you to complain now? You and Donnie have a good thing going given your positions.

That is until your heart diverts its attention towards the very turtle.

You came to the realisation when he expressed his excitement in showing you his newest invention. The fact that he had called upon you first made you feel special. It made you feel wanted and desired for the first time in your life. A seemingly small phenomenon given how he merely wanted to showcase something to you but the way it had tugged your heart was unparalleled to anything else you had ever experienced - and that smile. You could have happily fawned over that proud grin of proclaimed accomplishment and self-justified pride for the rest of that day. Then, it all came crashing down on you like heaps of scrap in a junkyard. You have fallen for someone who is in love with April. Again. Are you just doomed to fall for any man that crushes this girl? This must be some sick joke. One that you don’t find yourself laughing at.

It eats away at you for the days - weeks - to come. You can’t console anyone on the matter, either. If any of his family catches wind, there’s a chance of him finding out. An outcome you wish to avoid if possible. As for Casey and April, dear lord you don’t even want to know what would happen if you told them. You’re at square one again just as before: crushing on someone who will never feel the same way about you. Rotting in a pool of your self-made disillusion.

Alone.

Having a crush on someone sucks.

#tmnt #tmnt 2012 #donatello #donatello hamato #donatello 2012 #donatello x reader #x reader #donnie tmnt #2012 donnie

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meowzilla93 · 5 months

Note

Fancy meeting you here! Baxter in the five years after Step 4 please!!!

We both love this man to bits and pieces, but we are also realistic

This is a jumble of my thoughts put to paper, it may not be in order but it still all matters!

ALERT: I had so much to say I needed to split this into two posts cause i maxed the character limit......

Long distance relationships are hard work, no one said this was going to be easy

The two of you are making sure to keep up that hard work, keeping up the contact, looking after each other even with the many miles between you, and supporting each other

Thing is, Baxter only has two modes – 0 or 100.

He wasn’t kidding when he said he would text you multiple times a day when you first left, because this man really did

Asking about your day, hoping you are doing well, sending confidence boosting messages, the works

If this is something you love then its all fine!

But if this is a bit much for you, or your work really cant have you being distracted multiple times day, a chat will be needed

He understands, he is a little bashful that his actioned cause this convo but he understands

Idiot he is though, pulls back a touch too much and ends up messaging maybe once a day or once ever few days

You are going to need to teach him what it means to run at 50

And over time he will understand, he just needs that patience and understanding and OPEN COMMUNICATION!!!

You alternate visits with each other, trying to do it as often as work is possible but sometimes work does get in the way and it can be months before you see each other face to face again

You are REQUIRED to be prepared to be wrapped up in a Baxter Burrito TM as soon as he sees you and you are not going anywhere for the next 24-48 business hours

I have said it before, this mans love language is physical touch, and he is clingy

He almost puts Cove to shame with how clingy he is

Being together makes him realise a lot of things about himself, and that he needs to work on some trauma that he has from his childhood, and with your support starts seeing a psychologist

The changes are slow but steady; He might not realise it himself at first, but with the activities that the psychologist recommend he do, and learning how to channel his emotions correctly, you certainly do

And you couldn’t be more proud of him! Make sure you let him know!

He is the one to drop the ‘I love you’ bomb first

It just happened, he wasn’t thinking about anything specific, it wasn’t planned

He is simply cuddled up to you, on the couch talking nonsense with a glass of wine each

You had just finished laughing at one of his ridiculous stories, and he was just staring at you as you did with hearts in his eyes

As you wipe the tears from your eyes from laughter, he moves in close, kisses your temple and with a hum, just says those three little words

He doesn’t realise it at first; You froze and slowly turned to look at him

Suddenly the gears click and WHOOF he goes bright red

But he doesn’t take it back, he just looks anywhere else but you, unable to deal with what he did, but refusing to deny it

Please put him out of his misery and say it back, or kiss his first to relax him a touch and then say it

Those dimples of his have never looked sweeter than in that moment

Its been a year, and he really wants to see you more, but you both live so far away from each other

You both have careers in your cities and he refuses to pull you away from your success

Because of this, he is very hesitant to ask you to move in with him, or even vice versa

6 months down the track, you are at his apartment again but it’s the final night you are with him

He is in such a state, its winter, he doesn’t want to let you go home and knows it’ll be a probably a few months before he sees you again because he worries about travelling conditions and wants you to be safe

As you are cuddling in bed, he holds you with such a firm grip, like he is so afraid you’ll disappear if he lets go

Whilst in that Baxter Burrito TM, he whispers gently into your shoulder “Please stay…”

He thinks it was quiet enough that you wont hear, or that you’ve fallen asleep

But you heard it

Gently you turn around, he thinks you are just getting comfortable and you look him in the eyes

MC “Ask me Baxter.”

Baxter “What?”

MC “Ask me.”

You can see all the emotions run a race in his eyes as he realises that you are asking of him

Cupping your face, gently stroking your cheek with his thumb he asks again, without whispering

“Stay with me.”

“Next time, I will stay.”

Elated is a far too gentle word to explain his emotion but you can guarantee he is over the moon with joy

It takes time to organise the move, after all you both had your own separate lives and now you need to figure out how to merge the two together, but you make it work

Moving jobs is also something that needs to be considered, but if you work remotely, it doesn’t even really matter

It takes around 4-6 months to sort out the move with all the moving pieces, but you two are finally together, for good

Baxter loves to dance, and having you around more means he gets to indulge in his love two fold and tries to do it as often as he can

Are you a good dancer too? If you suggest to him to join an amateurs comp, he is ecstatic! He hasn’t choreographed in years and he gets a chance to use that skill once again

If you just prefer it being the two of you, he is more than happy to keep at that, dancing in the living area, the kitchen, shower, bedroom….

He is a plant guy

You can take this headcannon from my cold dead hands

He loves being able to water them and tend to them and they just add colour to his place and warmth

It becomes one of his favourite hobbies

Be careful as this means you will need to keep an eye out for any new plants he snuck into your home

If you have a pet he is very careful to ensure that he only has plants that are pet friendly

Oh he for sure has a little corner dedicated to pure black plants, how could he not

The next year flies buy with little issue

Oh there where teething issues living with each other for certain, but you both learnt how to talk with each other so that it didn’t turn into an argument

Boundaries were set and honoured and life couldn’t be easier

He starts being a touch more nostalgic about his childhood; He has managed to make some wonderful friends and kept those relationships up but he cant help but think about the friends he left behind in Golden Grove

PART TWO WILL BE REBLOGGED WITH THIS ASK!!!

#our life beginnings and always #baxter ward #olba #our life #olba baxter #olba mc #baxter x mc #our life headcannons #meow asks!

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marnle · 1 year

Text

Cities are destined to be cold - Bucky Barnes x Agent!reader

Summary - When a mission goes wrong Bucky is angry. You’d never gotten along with each other, a hatred deep within the two of you. Yet this mission changed the air. When your taken from Bucky, he realises what he’s lost, and how truly, you’d saved him in ways he didn’t think were possible.

Warnings - this shit sad af, quite suggestive basically smut just without the descriptive part lol. Did I mention this is sad and angsty?

A/n - YOOOO, you guys ate up my last fic, hope this is up to par :)

ALSO! My requests are in fact open!! And I’d love to write for you guys as I’m currently on winter break! Thank you all <3 have a good ol Christmas, or enjoy whatever you celebrate. Safe reading <3

————

The city was different to what he remembered, he watched as the snow fell around him, painting his nose and cheeks a deep pink. He watched as the coruscating lights danced around his vision, twirling and moving as though they were one. He felt as though he was radiant, you beside him even more so. He missed the beat of your heart next to his. He missed the feel of your hands across the plains of his body, he missed the feel of your mouth upon his. He missed you more than his soul could understand, and how he wished you’d return to him once more.

It had been a month since you were taken by Hydra, a combat mission gone terribly terribly wrong, your whereabouts were unknown, physical state was unknown. The team had tried to bargain, they’d requested proof of life, yet nothing ever came. Bucky didn’t know if they were holding you captive, or had disposed of you; a strenuous attempt at destroying him from the inside out. Bucky’s heart felt as though it had been torn from his chest, his head felt as though it were an extra weight upon his neck, for he could barely hold it up.

He’d never gotten to tell you how enamoured he was with your being, he’d never told you that you were the reason he began to feel again, began to live again. All of the nights you’d spent together tangled within the sheets made him weak in his knees. You were the first person to trust him, treat him as though he walked the planet like everyone else, the first person to tell him it wasn’t his fault. And now he was sure he’d never be able to tell you that you owned his heart, his body and his soul.

It was the later hours after a formidable mission, the biggest of the year, the team had cleared out and successfully liberated one of the largest Hydra bases they’d ever come across, saving hundreds of innocent lives and gaining paramount intel that could help them even further in the future. You’d fought until your knuckles were bruised, and your body ached unlike any other. You weren’t enhanced, just an incredible fighter, so your body felt the sting of the hits you took, and the rush of the adrenaline that ran through your veins as thick as your blood.

It was the first time he ever held you.

You both weren’t exactly close, longing stares from across the room was all your acquaintanceship seemed to include. In fact, at first, you and Bucky didn’t entirely find each other appealing. You’d do something that he felt was entirely too risky on a mission, he’d voice his concerns in the form of a bellow, and you’d voice yours back even louder. Yet the day he found you in your room after the previously aforementioned vigorous mission was when the air between you both changed drastically forever.

Bucky stormed down the corridor towards your room, his steps were heavy with anger as he unceremoniously slammed his fists against your locked door. He was so incredibly frustrated with you. You’d yet again defied his orders to hang back, and ran in without any sort of cover to throw yourself in front of a group of civilians whilst Hydra open fired, whilst the team open fired. He’d screamed down the comms line so extremely loud that his voice had gravelled afterwards, yet you still didn’t listen.

“You let me in this room now, agent!” he bellowed, whilst his fists continued slamming into the wood of your door.

The door swung open, you stood in front of him, hand grasping a woollen blanket that was wrapped tightly around your form. It made you appear small. He thought you looked like the most beautiful thing to ever grace his vision. Still in your combat shirt and pants, darkened from the bloody carmine of your enemies.

“How can I be of service Barnes?” you growled, anger evident in your tight stance, and balled fists, of which were covered in bruises.

Without a second thought he strolled into your room, slamming the door behind him.

“I’m sure the door certainly didn’t deserve that.” you speculated, a smirk adorning your face.

“Shut it right now, and let me make one thing so obviously clear.” he replied, cutting you off entirely. His face was bathed in a layer of red, his usually welcoming cerulean eyes were cold and flinty. His nostrils were aflare too. It made you visibly curl into yourself, and it made Bucky sick to his stomach. It was as if you were both in a standoff, you were waiting for each other to make the wrong move in order to set alight the fuse.

Yet your posture was unnerving, you looked frail, weak, something that you’d never ever appeared. Bucky's chest felt as though a thousand pound weight was sitting upon it. You looked pale, nauseatingly pale. Yet it was you who backed down, and you never backed down. You practically limped towards the floor to ceiling windows at the other side of your room, you stumbled and threw yourself on the ground in front of them, still wrapped in your woollen blanket as if it were the only thing keeping you alive.

Bucky cleared his throat and walked up behind you. He watched your gaze as it swept over the city, the opaque lights of midnight ran across your face and features. Bucky thought you looked grandiloquent, the way your eyes were lit up like a thousand night skies. How he wished to gaze into them for eternity.

“You look unwell.” He stated stoically, as though his tone would solve all of his imminent problems. You only hummed, a small hand grasping your side blindly, as you refused to look back at him. Your face scrunched up in obvious discomfort.

“God what on earth is wrong with you?” he pressed, walking in front of you and blocking your line of sight, you could no longer see the calming lights of the city. Inducing you into the beginning of what one only could assume as a panicked state.

He stared down at you, and his eyes bore into the centre of your being, melting your metallic facade as though he were molten himself.

“I'm fine.” You managed to growl out, still grasping your side, yet with a little more vigour. You refused to meet his eyes, yet Bucky's gaze traced towards where your hand sat vacant, and widened as though he’d seen a ghost. The colour of his skin drained to a pale green.

“What the fuck did you do?” he whispered, his voice grainy whilst he kneeled in front of your form. Hands going towards your own.

Yet you smacked him away.

“I said I’m fine.” You replied, yet your waterline began to fill, your eyes began to glisten.

“You are not fine!” he replied, anger evident in his eyes, let alone his tone. He avoided your defensive arms, arms that were covered in small bruises and cuts from the battle prior. He grabbed the seam of your shirt with trembling hands, lifting it just high enough to expose your ribcage; where a large gash sat, slightly bloodied and held together by what he felt was the worst attempt at stitching he’d ever seen. He tried not to react, he wanted to uphold his angry facade as much as anyone, although a small broken gasp did escape his lips.

He practically threw your shirt back down, with so much force it felt as though the air around you had drastically moved. Bucky stood up, and strode across the room into your bathroom. You could hear him rustling through the cabinet underneath your sink. The taboo language that seemed to flow so freely from him at such a time made you breathe through your nose a little louder, ignoring the throbbing pain in your ribs.

He barged back into the room and made his way straight towards you. You simply lifted up your arms and allowed him to remove your shirt. You couldn’t care that you were practically bare in front of him, the lack of feeling in your fingers made you feel as though you were miles upon miles away. He began to pick out the awful stitches you’d attempted to do yourself as you gritted your teeth.

“Is it so goddamn hard to ask for help?” he asked as he roughly pulled out one of the stitches, causing you to groan in pain, tears forcefully running down your face, and dripping onto his hands.

“We’re on the same team, why the hell are you constantly hiding things from me Y/n?”

He stopped wrapping the bandage around your torso as his defiant glare met your own, eyes sparkling with worry. A lonesome tear ran down his cheek, spilling from his eye as your thumb met it before it could fall and join your own.

“I don't want you to worry Bucky”

He felt as if the world had collapsed around him. You even more so. He wasn’t physically able to conjure up words, the touch of your hand upon his jaw and cheek felt so powerful, one could assume you’d burnt him, so he continued to wrap the bandage around you.

As he pulled it tighter you winced and pushed away from him, the pain becoming too much to bear, you leaned on him as though he were the last pillar holding up the universe, painfully gritting your teeth so very tightly. He breathed heavily at the noise, it pained him greatly to see you in any amount of pain.

“I know it hurts sweetheart, I know, I’m so fucking sorry.” he said as he finished cutting off the last of the white bandage. He placed his large hand on the back of your head and brought you to his chest. He felt your tears wet his shirt, the same shirt he wore as a bullet grazed you and he didn’t notice. He ran his fingers through your locks, listening to your sobs quieten and your breathing even out.

“Shh, shhh..” he whispered as he rocked your shaking form, his heart splintering at the sight. His hands caressing your spine and back. His lips grazed your hairline, the soft feeling sent a shiver through your whole being, chilling you to the bone as an array of goosebumps began to rise upon your icey skin.

“Please don’t leave me.” You weeped. A thousand seas would’ve been less volatile.

“I won’t.” He whispered.

“Please don’t hate me.” you gasped, grasping his shirt within your fist, hoping his promise wasn’t a false camaraderie.

“Never.” His breath breezed across your scalp, dipping deep within the cracks of your being, mending your emotional wounds as though they were never present.

“You need to rest sweetheart.” Bucky said as he brushed away a strand of your hair that had begun to disrupt his view of your eyes.

You nodded your head as you witnessed vulnerability you’d never seen.

“Ready?” he asked.

You nodded once more as he lifted you from the ground and wrapped your body around his. His large, warm hands grasping you underneath your thighs, yet never straying too far to be considered something more.

He walked the two of you towards your bed, he felt the warmth of your breath against his neck where you tucked your head, felt the chill of your skin against his own. He felt as though he was floating himself. And he knew from that moment onwards he’d never want to leave such a feeling behind him. He sat you upon your fluffy sheets, sage green in colour with a white blanket placed on top.

“You're really cold, love.” Bucky whispered as he dragged his calloused hands up and down your ice cold arms.

“Get in with me?” You asked, peering up at him through your eyelashes. You felt as though you were committing a crime even laying your eyes upon a person so extremely angelic, never mind asking him to lay with you. Yet your mind was clouded by the voracious heat that seemed to be freely flowing from the plains of his body, something you not only needed, but craved deliciously.

“You sure? I can sleep on the floor sweetheart, it wouldn’t be the first, won’t be the last.” He asked, his eye refusing to meet yours, a fear resided deep within him, a fear that you’d see through his facade, and uncover that, yes, in fact he did have weaknesses, and one of them was placed strategically in front of him.

“Please Bucky, I promise.” You replied, beginning to remove the cargo trousers you wore on the mission, as Bucky had previously had you remove your shirt to combat your awful attempt at doctoring. You lifted the sheets and wrapped yourself within them as though they were the softest thing on earth. Like how Bucky often thought you were the softest thing on earth.

He silently nodded, too afraid to allow himself to speak, as he wasn’t entirely sure he was able to, afraid he’d let you know too much.

He began to remove his shirt, he didn’t miss your heartbeat ascending, he didn’t miss how your eyes tore him apart. You were studying him, every dip, curve, scar, burn, muscle. Yet when your eyes did leave his body, they never left his own. He peeled his pants off, the residue of the mission evident on his dirty skin. He hadn’t had time to shower. Too exasperated at your actions. Too worried about your wellbeing. He stood bare in just his boxers, slightly moving his hand in front of him to hide from your gruesome glare. Yet you simply lifted the covers, and he allowed himself in.

His chest was heavy, heavier than he believed it had ever been before, even through his trauma, this moment was the epitome of his time out of Hydra. He was elated, yet terrified. He lay flat, afraid to contract a singular muscle, it had been a long time since he felt the touch of another, nevermind lay beside one.

Yet, as though it were clock work, you wrapped your entire body around him as if he were the most tranquil, essence of life anyone had to offer. He froze at the contact, letting out a breath that was far too loud, yet, the feel of your head on his chest, along with the skin to skin contact his body so desperately craved, and rightfully deserved; he felt grounded.

He wrapped his large arms around your freezing frame, holding you as close as he physically could, not wanting this moment to fade away within his jumble of memories. He’s sure that even as a younger man he’d never felt such strong, relentless emotions. They crawled up his spine, wrapped around his torso and climbed his chest. Suffocating him.

“You’re so pretty.” You observed, looking up at his chiselled face, and lost eyes.

Bucky was sure his heart had stopped entirely beating, that the blood flowing through each valve was simply a figure of his messed up imagination.

“You know that right?” You continued, and it pushed him off the edge of the cliff he constantly balanced on, as though it were a battle for his sanity, yet his fall was far from a death sentence, but freedom.

He grasped the back of your head, and pushed his lips onto yours. He kissed you like you were the last thing on earth, he kissed you like you were the first thing on earth. He pushed his tongue into your mouth and moaned deeply when you reciprocated as such. Teeth clashed, lips were deformed in an arrangement of reds and pinks.

He dragged his lips down your neck, sucking and biting wherever his mouth met the warmth of your flesh, leaving behind an array of purple in his wake. You felt as though death were about to physically grasp your hand, and take you to where you belonged, with his presence by your side, you couldn’t care where that was. As long as his round eyes looked at you as though you were the moon and stars, you had decided that nothing else could ever matter.

He followed the curve of your body, dipping and caressing every mark and scar he’d lay his eyes on, similarly how you did not a minute earlier.

He made it to your underwear, he peered up at you. His dark locks were graciously dishevelled, sticking up from a variety of different places. His eyes were darkened with lust, and something more, but you wouldn’t allow yourself to delve that deep at this moment of time. You thought he looked beautiful, like an oil painting, the glisten of his eye made your heart practically jump from your chest. You’d never understood what love had felt like, people had described it as a leap of fate, perhaps even a fast passing of time. You understood now, you felt like the room was spinning and your body was floating. The warmth that spread across your body was unachievable elsewhere, especially as it was due to him. You knew you’d do anything for him, for the entirety of your breathing.

You nodded at him, he partially nodded back, subconsciously replying to himself, reminding himself that yes, this was real. You subtly moaned from the anticipation. The tension in the room was palpable.

He peeled your panties off of your body, kissing his way up your legs and thighs, before dipping his head deeper, making you worsen his disorderly state further, as you grasped his hair by his roots, making him groan, it was gravelly, and you’d play it on repeat until the day you died.

The night was long, filled with passion you’d only ever read about. Bucky was like a harp, his strings were heavenly, he played you as though you were one too, he knew the ins and outs of your body within an hour, bringing you over the edge time after time again until he allowed himself to even begin to feel an ounce of pleasure. He was cautious around your wound, whispering what one could call poetry in the darkness of midnight directly into your ear. Two souls were combined that night, two ungodly souls who had needed each other for years, and hadn’t even noticed it. The longing that clung to two hearts was unmistakable, and how you finally felt as though your soul was complete, well, so was his.

Days turned into weeks, weeks into months. He wrote to you, not directly evidently. But his soul needed to be fed, his whole was missing, the darkness he once thought would never return began to crawl towards him once more. Its claws were sharp, its eyes were red. He felt the cloud of the earth wrap around him for the last ever time.

So as he glared at the skyline, he remembered that the same skyline allowed him to feel once more, without it, he wouldn’t have finally connected with you. The snow dazed him, reminded him of your cold body that night. And how by the end of it he promised you you’d never be cold again. How he hoped he could take back such a thing, as he was sure that wherever you were, his heat wouldn’t ever save you.

He watched as the earth continued around him, cars, couples, children. Previously he wouldn’t have paid attention to them, too entirely absorbed by his own mind, that the simpler things in life seemed to go overlooked. He watched as a woman held another's hand, watched as a child threw a ball of frozen ice at their unsuspecting victim not a metre ahead. He watched as the cars carefully crawled towards their homes for christmas. He thought about how, until you, he hadn’t even slept on a mattress, he thought about how when you’d left, he’d never sleep on one again.

Perhaps he’d never feel your gaze upon his ever again, but he’s sure that somewhere, somehow, you’d meet again, angelic eyes falling to him once again. Fixing his broken being, for this life couldn’t be completed, couldn’t be enjoyed, couldn’t be fixed. He’d wish to tell you how you did fix him. But without you beside him he would go about his days draped within the cold, a cold he’d come to realise only you could replenish.

————

Dayumn. Fanx 4 reading :D

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lavender-romancer · 2 years

Text

Deceiver

Part Two Tommy Shelby x Reader CW: slow burn, swearing

You've been involved with the Peaky Blinders business for a few years now, undiscovered as a woman posing as a man. Now the Shelby boys have grown suspicious of you and want you found out.

an: set in season one

”*°•.˜”*°•. ˜”*°•. ˜”*°••°*”˜.•°*”˜.•°*”˜.•°*”˜

previous part

No one else knew apart from the Shelby family, Polly looked at you with a new found respect and Ada found it extremely funny whilst understanding your motives. Most of the relationships between you and the family didn't change that much aside from a few jokes towards your situation that Tommy seemed to enjoy more than he should.

You'd started wearing blouses and leaving your chest free without binding at home, still not willing to live in society as your God given name. You couldn't get used to wearing dresses or skirts, it didn't feel right but as your hair started to grow out on the sides and on top, you started considering the possibility that you could be comfortable with it. It was on one of these nights that you were wearing a blouse that there was a knock at your front door. The rain had been falling since the heavens opened a few minutes ago and hadn't let up the whole time you sat in your front room. You placed a blazer on to cover up your chest in case it was someone other than the Shelby's but when you opened it you were met with Tommy, rain attacking his figure like a stranger.

"Tommy? What are you doing out here? Come in, come in." You stood aside and let him in, taking off your blazer and placing it on the coat rack.

Tommy rubbed his feet on the mat that was just inside your doorway and took off his hat and coat before you shut the door behind him. He looked at you with a stern expression, not anger towards you but worry seemed to plague his mind. You sat on your sofa and Tommy soon joined you, pulling out two cigarettes and handing you one before letting out a sigh he had been holding in.

"What's happened, Tom?" You asked as you struck a match and lit both Tommy and your cigarettes.

"Campbell talked to Polly this evening," he replied and your eyes widened. "He wants a meeting with me because he's realised Arthur knows nothing about what I do know."

"And what is it that you know, Thomas?" You looked at him quizzically, Tommy leant back on the sofa and looked you up and down, his eyes lingering on your chest that he still wasn't used to seeing.

"About the guns that have gone missing," Tommy studied your expression as your mouth slightly opened and you nodded.

"So that means you have them, Campbell wouldn't go through all that with Arthur if he just believed you had information." You took a drag and Tommy smiled back.

"Ever the perceptive, Y/n." Tommy said and you looked into his eyes, still not used to him saying your name.

"What have you got yourself into, Thomas?" You shook your head and sighed "You're going to get yourself killed before we've even started this bloody business you want so badly."

"We? Hmm," Tommy looked amused and you rolled your eyes.

"Before you've even started this business, don't get too excited Shelby. You're not getting me that easily." You smiled to yourself but Tommy saw and a feeling began to hit his chest. He didn't know how he felt for you but it wasn't the same as before.

"Well regardless it's your business too now," he paused. "That's why I'm telling you, Campbell is trying to stamp us out, he's come here to find the guns and doesn't know who's done it so far. My assumption is he thinks the Communists have them."

"Have you talked to Freddie Thorne about it?" You asked.

"Yeah that probably won't be happening anytime soon, our contempt for each other won't be bridged that way." Tommy took a drag and leant back on the sofa, looking up at the ceiling.

"Oh for god sake, Tommy," you sighed and he looked at you with a raised eyebrow. "What even happened between you to warrant this when working together against Campbell will work?"

"Well, aren't you full of bright ideas and questions today?" He smirked and you rolled your eyes.

"If you'd listen to some of them you wouldn't be in so much shit would you?" You leant back on the sofa and took a drag.

"You might be right, but I'm in a position of more power at the moment so I can't give it up now," he paused. "But you're helpful with tactical things… sometimes " be joked and you narrowed your eyes in his direction.

"And you're a little bitch, Shelby. Just like you're always thinking you know better." You giggled and Tommy sat up.

"You're something else, y/n." Tommy looked at you with eyes you couldn't decipher, as you sat up his gaze travelled from your neck to your lips in a slow glance. It made your stomach flip and you parted your lips slightly, what the hell was going on?

Later that week you were in the Garrison in the morning when you heard a massive commotion outside. You opened the door of the Garrison, cigarette hanging from your mouth and it dropped to the floor as your mouth gaped at what was before you. Raids, tens of them down the street with police horses and policemen everywhere and in the middle of it all was Fucking Campbell. The man that made your blood boil with anger, you wanted nothing more than to shoot that fucker in the back of the head as he sat astride that horse but you knew you couldn't. Police were beating people and dragging things out of houses to root through and take stuff out.

Campbell caught sight of you at the open door of the Garrison and he smiled like the devil. He rode towards you and you rooted your feet in the ground as he approached.

"Where's your entourage?" He asked with a knowing look.

"It's not mine to speak on," you replied, lighting another cigarette.

"At the fair I hear, not here to see what we accomplish with order." He looked down at you like scum and you just put your shoulders back and looked at him with hatred.

"Is that what you call order? Turning people out of their homes and raiding innocent workers as you parade around on your horse?" You blew smoke in his direction.

"I call this good riddance," he paused. "Now you have a good day." He smirked.

When the boys returned you and Polly told them what had happened and you ran your hand through your hair as they boys sat down and heard the news.

"It was fucking awful." You commented.

"They all think it was your idea," Polly looked at Arthur "that Arthur organised it when he was taken by the police."

"I didn't fucking," Arthur paused "Why the fuck would I agree to that?"

"It doesn't seem to matter, everyone out there is against you and you need to fucking prove you didn't do it." You took a drink from your glass of whiskey.

"She's right, you need to prove you're still the cocks of the walk," Polly nodded towards you.

"Alright, John boy, Eddie-fuck-y/n let's go." Arthur slapped his thighs and stood up. Tommy looked into your eyes as you stood up, you didn't change your expression but kept his gaze till you walked past him.

There was a tension between the two of you that was so obvious but you didn't know what the tension was. You couldn't even begin to consider the fact that you might have feelings beyond friendship toward him because you'd never really experienced it. Living your life through a lie had meant you hadn't dated, not properly anyways and you hadn't made connections that developed your ability to understand this 'tension'. You didn't know what Tommy wanted from you, before when he'd come to your flat you'd never sit near each other, you'd talk about business and that was it. There were no longing looks or near body contact before but now…something had changed between you.

The following week you were walking back from the shops with a few bags of food and a cigarette in your mouth, when you got to your doorstep Thomas was already there. You looked at him with a quizzical look and he smiled at you, it was an unexpected sign of happiness and he held out his hands to hold the bags as you unlocked your door.

"What brings you here, Thomas?" You asked as you both walked into the kitchen after you locked the door.

"Came to see you, is all." His expression was emotionless as you unloaded your bags.

"I'm just going to pop upstairs, you can go through to the sitting room," you smiled his way and placed your cap on the dining table.

Walking upstairs you went into your room and took off your shirt, you stood Infront of the mirror and began to unbind the bandages from your chest. Your breasts hurt on most days but today was the worst. You massaged them as you approached your bed and crouched down to pull out a box. They contained your blouses and bras you wanted to keep secret as your wardrobe was full of longline trousers and men's shirts. You chose a plain lace bra and a blouse with red and blue flowers embroidered on the collar with a v neckline. You were growing to like more feminine clothes and it almost made you happy sometimes even though you still didn't necessarily feel comfortable but, you were growing in favour of them.

"Haven't seen that one before," Tommy commented as you walked down the stairs and you smiled to yourself heading toward the kitchen "I've put the rest of it away." He called and you blushed almost ridiculously because why should it make you blush that he did you a favour.

"Want tea?" You asked and he nodded.

"I've put the kettle on the stove already," he added and you looked down with a smile.

Thomas noticed your smile and he took great pleasure in it. He hadn't decided when the transition between thinking you were handsome and pretty occurred but it seemed to be a relatively easy change. Thomas wasn't exactly not attracted to men but he was more attracted to you when you wore bras and more feminine shirts. The mix between masculine and feminine clothing made something inside him get excited and he wasn't quite sure what that meant, just that he wanted to spend more time with you as you got more comfortable. He enjoyed being around you and having this little secret that seemed to mean you trusted him more and in turn he trusted you immensely because he knew your greatest secret. Tommy could tell you had some form of affection toward him and he felt guilty for using those affections to get the two of you closer.

"I remembered the sugar and no milk, even though that's absolutely insane," you commented as you brought in his mug and set it on a coaster Infront of him on the coffee table.

"I'd prefer to have the actual taste of tea and not some milky concoction that tastes more like cow piss than tea." Tommy raised an eyebrow as he looked up at you and you narrowed your eyes at him with a smirk. You sat in the same places as you had the last time he visited with a respectful distance between the two of you.

"Cow piss, Thomas?" You sniggered and he rolled his eyes.

"Oh shut it, you know what I mean." He smiled.

"Oh do I?" You asked in a mocking tone.

"Yes you do know, cow piss, milk, it's the same connotation of milk." Tommy said trying to get himself out of the hole he'd dug for himself.

"You're ridiculous sometimes, Mr Shelby." You giggled.

"No more ridiculous than you, Y/n." Thomas returned your laugh and you let your head fall to the side.

"So what's going on, Thomas?" You asked, tea in hand as you faced him and leant your shoulder on the back of the sofa.

"As I said, I wanted to see you." Tommy smiled to himself and didn't notice how your cheeks went slightly pink.

"Almighty Mr. Peaky Blinders here all for me? I must be blessed." You teased and he rolled his eyes.

"Alright Miss. Secret Keeper, tell me why you feel so comfortable around me to change your clothes, eh?" He asked and you shrugged.

"I dunno, you're just…I feel comfortable around you," you looked at him over your mug and he nodded.

"I feel comfortable around you as well." Thomas looked into your eyes and swore for a moment that he would start leaning in but you giggled and it brought him out of a trance.

"Thomas Shelby feeling comfortable around me is certainly not what I thought you were going to say to me," you grinned and Thomas also looked amused as well.

"Am I so distant that it's inconceivable?" Tommy asked and you nodded.

"Absolutely and completely," you took a sip "You're Mr. Mysterious and you know that you are."

"I wouldn't say I know it, it comes with the territory so I'd argue you're pretty on par with my mysteriousness." Tommy picked up his mug and took a sip before placing it back down on the coaster.

"Well, I'd agree I have one big secret but everything else is mostly true, you're a whole entity of secrets." You placed your cup down on the other coaster and leant your arm on the back of the sofa.

"I think you'd agree it's safer and more interesting to have some secrets in your life rather than being an open book," Tommy looked up and down your body.

"I do enjoy that basically everyone has no idea who I am, it's like playing a character on stage." You smiled looking down at the sofa and Tommy snorted.

"You absolutely love the attention don't you, Darling." Tommy chuckled and the pet name caught your attention more than it should have as he probably called all women by names like this.

"I can't say I hate it. But I did genuinely think you might kill me after finding out." You raised your eyebrow at him.

"No need to, if you ever did do something awful I have the best bargaining power for blackmail anyways considering I know your darkest secret and that makes it even less likely that you would betray us," Tommy put his arm on the back of the sofa and your fingers were mere centimetres apart.

You dug your nails into the fabric as he shuffled the tiniest bit closer and his finger touched your knuckle. Tommy looked into your eyes and your lips parted instinctively, Thomas never thought you'd looked so beautiful with your eyes looking into his with curiousity. You weren't scared of him, even when he was about to kill you, you weren't scared of him, Thomas found that it made you so fucking irresistible to him. He wanted to dive over to you and take you in his arms but this soft touch has elicited more feeling within him than any quick fuck ever had. What was it about touching you that sent him so insanely mad with lust?

”*°•.˜”*°•. ˜”*°•. ˜”*°••°*”˜.•°*”˜.•°*”˜.•°*”˜

next part

Taglist:

@kathrinemelissa @wolfieellsworld @archivallyfound09 @hopefulinlove @globetrotter28 @buttercup32sstuff @teamfreeavacados @just-a-blackhole @sabbbyn @sillyfreakfanparty @lovelyreader22 @leaked-adrenaline @ghxst-heart @bat-luna-cat @emily-roberts @thattransgayscout @cristina-01

Peaky Blinders Taglist:

@queenofkings1212 @severewobblerlightdragon @cl5369 @fairypitou @stressedandbandobessed7771 @shadow-of-wonder @hipsternoionlylikeunicorns @curled-hair-red-lips @lucystivinsky1315

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lovejosephquinn · 1 year

Note

Imagine this with me here, reader is going through tik tok and everyone knows that reader and JQ are dating and then reader saw a edit of the both of them “The way she looks at him, The way she looks at her” and it’s all the events and moments when both of them are all goofy, lovey dovy and everything [and the amount of times they look each other with love in their eyes, even though they have dated for years it still seems like they are teenage in love]. When reader saw that, her heart just melts and JQ was behind her and wrap his arms around reader’s waists saying “I’m glad everyone knows now that I’m only in love with you. And only you” ❤️❤️❤️😭😭 can this be a request please?

It absolutely can 🥰 this is so cute, I live for fluffy little blurbs like this

Thanks for your request angel, I hope it's what you wanted x

You knew your boyfriend wasn't big on social media and that was entirely his choice, however since you'd become public a few months back after 3 years of dating and keeping it sworn secrecy, you couldn't help but check up every now and then to see what people said about the two of you.

Some good, some bad. There were people that clearly weren't really that supportive of Joe and his happiness to say the least, the way some would slate your relationship or verbally threaten you for 'taking Joe away from them'. Others would be completely sweet, the actual fanbase that gave a damn and realised you were both human. You knew it was going to be a burn for most.

Since Joe had broken out into stardom, 90% of people fell in love with him. And who could blame them? He was pretty much perfect, to you there was nobody more genuine or real or no less chaotic than him, and you were the lucky one to capture his heart and oh you loved this man, with the entirety of your heart, body and soul.

Scrolling through TikTok, you laid on the sofa whilst Joe took a shower and ceased the opportunity to search your names for the first time in about a week. You'd recently attended an event together which saw you both photographed multiple times, the full PDA was captured between the two of you, shots of Joe holding your hand as you walked, the way he looked at you and the full twinkle in his eyes that just radiated pure warmth and adoration, the way he kissed your forehead when he knew you were anxious.

You came across a particular edit that played a sweet love song, the pictures of you and Joe that had been taken secretly in the street along with various events including your most recent images. The caption read. 'Good luck finding someone to look at you the way Joe looks at Y/N ❤.' You watched it multiple times, pausing on each picture to just admire the way Joe looked on them, your heart could've burst. After all this time, every time you merely even took a glance at his face, you'd fall in love over and over again.

Joe interrupted your thoughts, creeping up behind you and leaning over towards your head, bringing you out of your quiet and sneaky viewing and instead making you leap up from where you laid. "What are you watching love?"

"Do I dare tell you?" Joe had witnessed you upset a lot at the beginning from some of the comments made about you, so in a way he disliked it when you would go looking for it, it never stopped you and he'd come to understand that, but the more a little time had gone by you learned to ignore the hate and the good eventually outweighed the awful.

"Save it, silly." Joe gave you a comical stare, raising his eyebrows and putting his hands on his hips, you could see a small smile appearing on his face though, which made your heart rate slow down.

You stood up and moved over to face him. "I can't help it; I know you don't like it but I-"

"Baby, stop trying to explain yourself, your little giggle I heard when I came out already let me know it was good."

You passed Joe your phone for him to watch the video, a small content sigh fell from his mouth, the full smile you loved to see emerging. He passed your phone back to you and you leaned to the side, throwing it away onto the sofa, you found Joe's hands snaking around your waist to bring you back up to him, you retaliated by wrapping your arms around his neck as he leans down to plant a couple of loving kisses square on your lips.

"I love you so much, beautiful. I'm so glad we made this public when we did, now the whole world knows how much you mean to me and I'll never stop showing you off, I'll never stop giving you 110% every god damn day of my life."

You couldn't help but get teary from his words, nobody had ever loved you this hard like Joe did, and it showed.

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gracesimp · 1 year

Note

Hi!! I love your fics! Could you write something based on snap out of it by the artic monkeys? The doctor tries to stop reader to getting marry with other and that they can start their previous relationship again. I don't know if I explained myself AHH

Snap out of it

tenth doctor x fem!reader

SUMMARY: The Doctor hates that Y/n is already spoken for. Should he tell her how she owns his hearts, or should he let her be happy in the relationship she's already in?

How long would he have to wait before Y/n realised that she was all he wanted? Could he carry on the way he is: hearts breaking when she says the words 'I love you', but never directed to him? The constant yearning and urge to hold her close becoming unbearable?

"Yeah, I'm on my way!" Y/n said softly, phone between her shoulder and ear whilst her hands were messing with her hair. "Okay. I love you too." She giggled. The doctor looked up from the console, frown forming, before he snapped his head back down. "Bye, sweetie."

Y/n hung up the phone, sighing in content before looking in the mirror, finger delicately smudging the lipstick she wore.

"Who was that?" The Doctor asked, not even knowing why he was asking such an obvious question. Perhaps to taunt himself with the reminder that she would never be his.

"Luke." She smiled back, but faltered slightly when she noticed his sour mood. "You okay?"

The Doctor didn't even glance up from the console as he shrugged his shoulders. "Of course I'm okay." He spoke back. "When am I not?" He murmered beneath his breath, though Y/n heard it perfectly.

She skipped towards him, lightly nudging him with her elbow. "Don't give me that. I know you too well, Doc." He tried his best to not smile, but the corners of his lips twitched up. He couldn't help it. Y/n's happiness was contagious. "Wanna talk?"

Yes. He wanted to tell her everything. He wanted her to know how much she was loved. And how much better he could treat her. He was already offering her more than anyone on Earth could, but he needed to give her more. He needed for her to be his. So, he answered with:

"No." He shook his head softly. "I'm okay. Honest." The Doctor lies. Most times it's to protect his companions, though on the rare occasions like these, it's to protect himself from being hurt. The ultimate defense. Simply not telling the truth.

"Hm." She analysed him with her eyes. She could read him like a book. "You're lying. But if you ever want to talk about it, just let me know. I'm always here for you, Doc." She kissed his cheek quickly, missing the way it burned in response and how his hand automatically reached up to touch it.

Y/n skipped back to where she was before, still applying some makeup. "Do you think you could take me to the Paradise restaurant near my house, please? Luke wants to take me on a date."

The Doctor sighed. Very loudly. It caught his companion's attention immediately, and she furrowed her brows and placed a hand on her hip. "What?" She asked.

The Doctor hesitated for a few seconds. He was shifting awkwardly and he ran a hand down his frustrated face. "I can't do this anymore." He said, abandoning the console and walking so he was standing directly in front of her.

"Doctor?"

"I wanna grab both your shoulders and shake you." He whispered. "Snap out of it."

"I don't understand." Y/n responded, and he lifted his hand to place a strand of her hair behind her ear. He stared at her for a moment, admiring every inch of her. To him, she was the embodiment of perfection. he brought his hand down to rub her soft cheek. He loved the way his touch ignited a flame, enjoying the pink tint which soon followed.

Smiling, he clarified. "I get the feeling I left it too late, but I'm so in love with you, Y/n Y/L/N. More than I believe anyone could love anything. You have captured my hearts, and should you choose to accept it, they will be forever yours."

not proofread cos I'm lazy. hope this was okay :)

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dameronology · 2 years

Text

steve harrington + "you don't love me anymore?"

request: ok so obviously the scene with steve & nancy breaking up in the bathroom is fucking heartbreaking BUT if he had a similar convo with his s.o later on when he's a little older (maybe s3-4, young adult sorta age) and he's a bit more mature now?? would he put up a fight, would he let them go?? i'm so desperate to hear what u think

a/n: that scene killed me!! i'm glad it made way for nancy + jonathan but my god it's painful to watch😭😭

warnings: angst, no spoilers for s4

part two

i say this with all the love in the world: steve is low-key a dumbass and it would take him a while to pick up on something being wrong. probably bc he's so happy and content in your little routine - with him working at the mall, babysitting spending time with the hawkins kids, coming home to you - that he never stops to think about the fact you might not be

because of all the things that happened in the lead up to you guys being in a relationship - barb's disappearance, nancy suddenly breaking up with him, dealing with all the shit from the upside down all whilst dealing with the fact his parents are disappointed in him - your relationship is like...everything to him. so when he does realise that you're slipping away, it hits him like a fucking train

it's one night when you're about to drift off to bed; you've had a long day at college and he's telling you about him & robin goofing off at work all day. steve rolls over to sleep and says i love you

it's when you shove his arms off of you and don't say those three words back that he feels his heart break in two

even more so than yours, because this isn't easy for you either. steve is funny and sweet and the biggest idiot you've ever met and you have literally every reason to love him and not a single one to push him away

but sometimes, things just happen. you can't help how you feel. there's no reason for it. it just kinda feels like your life is moving forward and steve is in the past, no matter how hard you try to pull him with you

he approaches you the next morning in the kitchen. there's no greeting, no good morning kiss or hug like always. he just finds you in the corner making coffee and he says it simply and plainly.

"you don't love me anymore, do you?"

when he said to those words to nancy two or three years before, it was different. she was his first love, but they were high school students. they had their whole lives ahead of them to get over each other but he was really convinced that this, that you and him, were it.

so he's not gonna let you go without a fight lol. even when you burst into tears and promise that you love him, you're just not in love with him, he takes you in his arms and sways you kinda side to side to comfort you

because even though he's hurting too he knows this is just as hard for you. he knows you and he knows that you would never do a single thing to hurt him intentionally. it's sucky for both of you.

he makes a promise to you then & there that you can work it out. steve has never been one to beg but he almost does in that moment.

he hears you out. he listens to you talk about how you were just teenagers when you got together, and now you've both grown up and you're just not the same person you used to be. sometimes people grow together and sometimes they don't.

steve doesn't understand it, because he loves you more now than he was ever capable of as a dumb ass 17 year old but what can he do?? he can't make you stay with him

so he accepts it, however hard it is, because he just wants you to be happy, even if that means not being with you

but some part of him still holds out hope that you might come back one day

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington imagines #steve harrington reader insert #steve harrington headcanons #stranger things headcanons #stranger things imagines #stranger things imagine

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ephemeral-sorrow · 2 years

Text

onigiri gone wrong [nine]

you hummed thoughtfully, as you stirred the rice porridge in the pot.

today was your turn to take up the responsibilities of handling the kitchen. weirdly though, in contradiction to what some may suggest, you didn`t view it as something exhausting or overbearing, finding pleasure in such a family-like matter. surely enough, a smile tugged at your lips as you threw a contended look at the number of plates on the counter filled with various appetizing dishes: palative katsudon for twelve, fluffy pancakes with sirup for lisa and traditional udon noodles for nine. the rice currently boiling in the pot was meant to become your portion of onigiri.

joy and accomplishment filled your insides, as you pondered over the particular thought in your head. family, indeed.

unbeknownst to you, a giggle escaped your mouth. in spite of all your protective responses and denial of compliments, which twelve and lisa kept showering you with, you treasured the smiles on their faces more than anything as they happily stowed away your cooking.

filled with anticipation of the upcoming dinner, you rolled a spoon in your fingers.

seemingly out of nowhere, you saw a familiar long arm reaching for the bottle of water that stood on the counter. the nerves on your back immediattely felt someone`s presence and you hastily turned around, finding yourself caged between the cabinet and nine`s looming frame. strangely enough, you felt no fear or surprise, only embarassment and slight uneasiness.

you hated to admit that, but apparently, nine rather enjoyed trapping you in narrow spaces where there was no escape from him whatsoever. his height served as his undeniable advantage, whilst you were facing quite palpable issues in avoiding any unnecessary contact.

"what is it, nine?" it sounded like a statement on your behalf, not an inquiry. your voice was calm and quiet, but still hit the right nerve.

"i came for a drink."

and that was all that left his lips. as expected, nine made no attempt to push the already confusing conversation further, only thickening the tension with his unblinking attentive eyes that froze on your features, as if examining the reaction you might give him.

"dinner`s almost ready."

"i noticed." you quickly connected the dots and realised the smell may have slipped inside the living room despite you tightly shutting the door to the kitchen. perhaps, he was more hungry than he liked to admit?

nine read your mind in an instant - you were almost sure it was the sheer purpose behind his desire to connect eyes with you, so he could analyse every expression that crossed your face and understand you faster without words. for now, you tried avoiding him, afraid of giving away the true feeling inside.

"i will wait until you finish and everyone gathers here."

"uhm-m."

"i take it that you`ve prepared udon noodles. did you remember how i`ve mentioned wanting to have them?"

oh... how unusual. he was attempting to have small talk.

"i did. i always want to match everyone`s taste so the food could be equally delicious." you carefully examined nine`s face in return, wordlessly noting how soft his hair looked after the shower.

"i see."

by that point, the air almost seemed stiff. your heart started beating rapidly, almost squeezing your lungs; the fact that both of you didn`t draw your eyes away from each other only served as a cathalyst to the peculiar sensation of fondness, mixed with deep intimacy and a feeling of complete understanding.

you suddenly remembered that you were still holding the sauce-covered spoon. you placed it in front of your bodies as a shield, trying to look intimidating.

"i can stain your t-shirt." you sternly reminded nine not to forget that you could as well refuse his eccentric courting, if he kept up his antics.

"i don`t care."

that single sentence sent your face ablaze in a second. your ribcage practically erupted with nervousness and butterflies that threatened to break forth, as you struggled to control your breathing. with a slightly shaking hand, you gripped the counter behind you for support, almost anxious about what was going to happen next.

nine didn`t move, but you knew better than letting your guard down; his magnetic gaze never left yours the whole time, continuing to read you like an open book. he stood, observing your emotions and thoughts swirling in your orbs, offering to look inside him as well.

you could almost distinguish the high frequency sound in your ears, signaling the peak of tension, but it was interrupted by the sounds of excited steps up the staircase.

you and nine eventually moved away from each other, as if nothing has happened.

"we're ho-o-ome!" twelve's clear voice rang from downstairs corridor, followed by the sounds of metallic doors closing and shoes being discarded. "wow, smells great! isn`t it right, lisa?"

you heard a faint "yes" in response.

quickly turning back to the stove, you tried to compose yourself with outmost persistence. still, you couldn't help but steal a glance at the retreating figure of nine, who headed back to his laptop.

#zankyou no terror #terror in resonance #nine x reader #arata kokonoe x reader #twelve x lisa #hisami touji x lisa

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phenomanemone · 3 months

Text

oo9

cw: integration

“Do you even need me around anymore?” Ed asks as he sets the usual mugs of coffee down on their coasters before Sage and Chai.

“Why? Tired of us already?” Sage asks with a fierce grin.

Ed's expression is just as sharp when he says, “Are you kidding me? Of course I am! I'd rather hang out with the people around here! Those Final Fantasy guys are alright.”

Whilst Sage sputters in offence, Ed scratches the back of his neck with prosthetic fingers.

“So, hey, about that— do you remember the rewrites from the second session? Where you changed?”

Sage's annoyance fades quickly, and a sense of apprehensive curiousity overcomes her.

“Yeah,” she mumbles, twirling a lock of blonde hair. “I told you Mustang was here. I didn't have a reason to say that, and it detracted from the task.”

“The Colonel stopped by last night. He had some advice. Naturally, I told him just where he could shove it. But, as much as I hate to say it… he had some solid points.”

Chai sits up straight with keen interest. Fictives were his domain, after all. He hadn't seen any evidence of Mustang being around, despite Sage's earlier insistence that he was.

“What did he say?”

Edward raises his hand in a dismissive wave, hesitant to take advice from his C.O.

“That I need to ask more about metaphors for certain processes unique to yourselves for the sake of visualisation assistance, that's all.”

Sage's eyes are alight with a determined flame. “That's a good idea.”

Then, she felt the nudge of her bosses prodding at her. A compulsion to speak about something.

She looks at Edward oddly.

“What? Is it a good idea or not?”

“No, I just,” she glances from Ed to Chai. “I think I just thought of something that I'd rather say alone with Chai.”

“Okay, and?”

Sage looks to her hands clasped in her lap. “I mean, we're supposed to be honest here, right? So why do I feel like your presence affects that?”

Rather than taking offence, Ed tackles her question with logic.

“Well, I suppose you're thinking it means that my presence is affecting your ability to be honest with yourself.”

He smiles toward her, kind.

“I know my role.” is all he says.

Sage nods and says, “You've still got work to do. It can wait.”

She hesitates. Then, she reaches out and tugs shyly on Chai's sleeve for reassurance. Chai is happy to do so, placing a hand over hers and squeezing. Anxious, they both stare at Ed.

He sighs, an almost sarcastic note to his mannerisms.

“You want me to keep stating the obvious because you're ‘too close to see it’, huh? Alright, here goes.”

He rubs his hands together.

“You're both realising that you're healing from events that still feel defining. You're understanding each other with less of a barrier. These sessions have given you the ability to process complex thoughts more thoroughly, and so you're subsequently adapting your thoughts to be reflective of the medium.”

He looks them both in the eye.

“Look, I'm not gonna sit here and pretend I don't know what this is about. You were stressing about the perspective of these sessions and what it says about you. You keep forgetting: you may be the only two here now, but out there isn't really Sage's place, you know. That's all I'm gonna say.”

The two sit, coming to a simultaneous realisation. They'd been visited by a small white dog that refused to be integrated into the narrative, but had brought with it a perspective that added context to prior journaling.

“We have to acknowledge that to continue to use this medium.” Chai murmurs, “but we can't find a way to include that without his permission– meaning we have to give up the narrative to accurately communicate the change in perspective.”

Sage's expression is open; honest.

“I don't hold on out of obligation.” she admits. “I just… I need everything to be perfect, and I need to be perfect. I don't know what that looks like, though. I need a guide to follow, to make sure what I'm doing is right— but I wouldn't even know where to find one for this situation.”

“You're a people pleaser,” Chai notes with a lopsided grin.

“I don't want that to hold me back.” Sage says earnestly. “I just want to be honest.”

“So be honest.”

Sage looks directly at Edward.

“He is not in front of us right now. We are not in a room in the countryside. We are in a bed, typing on a phone. I guess I needed to be reminded of that, before I tear this down because I'm fretting over the small things.”

“I always knew I was only here temporarily.” Ed reminds her. “Here's a tip: just break character if you need to. If you need the obvious stated out loud to make sense of it, just do that. You don't need a third person to say it. You don't need an anchor, you just need to remember to ground yourself.”

Chai isn't sure if erasing the need for a third person meant a third couldn't still be there anyway. Maybe Hunter?

But no. Hunter was needed on more active days to lend his unwavering support and sense of calm.

Sheska hadn't observed them for a while. She was busier than ever.

Their connection with Kuro had been tampered with and they were sworn to secrecy. That annoying dog.

If Edward had fulfilled his purpose in showing them how to guide their conversation, then that would mean that they were alone. Alone, and forced to be completely honest. They feared what would come out, if they would have to face the true strains of their relationship.

Chai needed to know, but he was terrified of the answer. Sage was terrified of her dependency.

They needed to decide if they were brave enough to face up to their fears, because Ed was gone.

#pha journaling #did system #dissociative identity disorder #complex ptsd #journal #mental health #plurality #actually did #autism #actually autistic

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yukikorogashi · 7 months

Note

“ you’re not alone, not anymore . ” (shhh pretend i'm on my RE blog but from donna and angie!)

Found Family Prompts

THE NEXT FEW DAYS would certainly be harder on the child, despite her attempts to act as if nothing had truly changed. Especially while she stayed over at the DOLL MAKER'S HOME, while the IRON LORD tended to some important matters on his very own, on this day.

She knew she wasn't doing a very good job, either way. Knowing that she was quieter than she already was. Like a LITTLE RABBIT, whom had taken so much to come out of that little hide-y hole of hers-- so had she chosen to retreat deeply back in there. Having only allowed herself to break down into those UGLY TEARS and BROKEN WAILS, when he had knelt himself down to offer her that embrace. That one brief moment when she would be allowed to actually feel safe... As she could do nothing more but mourn over losing one of the very reasons she was even... staying as brave as she did then.

Still, when the sis had decided that they would be baking that day, there was no denying that the idea would quickly bring some long-forgotten delight back onto the young one's face and into her very heart. With the sis by this point even knowing that it was one of her most favourite things to do here. To do with her. For the discovery of that very book had since led to all sorts of fun baking sessions with the dollmaker. As they got to bake all sorts of wonderful goodies together! Ones that she even got happily got to take back home-- take back to the factory, for the Karl bro to enjoy...

The sound of that quiet voice would always catch her off guard, especially since it wasn't often that she would even get to hear it. And especially when it came at times when she would least expect it. With the little bride doll often speaking for her, Itsuki would eventually realise that she didn't mind that fact at all.

Especially when the little sis would be the one to bring some much needed LIFE within this very household, when it was so direly needed. And while the Angie sis had left Itsuki a little speechless and wide eyed. There were other times when she would find herself... smiling, if not laughing. Something to which she never expected to ever do again, upon arriving here.

You're not alone, not anymore.

Sniffling back a few tears, swollen eyes didn't hurt as much as they use to. Seeing as she had shed more than enough, by this point. And while she hadn't necessarily counted the days that had passed since that tragic discovery. More tears were already threatening to flood her eyes, as she swallowed down the last bit of the warm, gooey cookie that she had been enjoying.

As trembling lips clamped themselves tightly together into a straight, pale, quivering line-- whilst she gave another swallow. This time, not to ingest the yummy cookie, but the lump that grew increasingly stubborn within her very throat.

That certainly was the truth, one that she perhaps been a little afraid to believe in, at first. Especially when her arrival here had seemingly promised nothing more than NIGHTMARES. Why, it had even taken Itsuki some time to truly accept the KINDNESS to which the bro and sis would offer to her. Understandably wary at the offered hands, especially after what she had experienced prior-- back at Dimitrescu's Castle itself...

"T-Thank you..." The first attempt would come out muffled, and she was most certainly embarrassed then. Trying to hold back a few whimpers, that were threatening to escape-- even past clenched teeth then. "... thank you..." Itsuki wished that there was more that she could have said right then, but hoped they would both understand just how GRATEFUL she was. That for all the terrors she'd faced. For all the cruelties that have befallen upon her since her arrival here... there was still a SAFE PLACE here, despite it all.

@trvehearted / @villageoflords / @lloronala ❤️💕

#(VIBRATES AT THIS......)#(I know you aren't on here much anymore but oh this ask... THIS ASK... IM SO GLAD I FINALLY ANSWERED IT AND... DID A FEW DRAWINGS WITH IT A #(Forever emotional about them all okay ;;;)#❄️ The Brat in the Tower ;; RESIDENT EVIL VILLAGE VERSE ❄️#lloronala #trvehearted #villageoflords #❄️ VILLAGEOFLORDS ;; Muse: DONNA BENEVIENTO ❄️#❄️ MUN'S ART ❄️#❄️ ASKS ❄️#❄️ QUEUE ❄️

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sukunasweetheart · 3 years

Text

A better way to enjoy chocolate.

Pretty much just reader trying to give Sukuna some chocolates on Valentines. Highschool AU, gender-neutral reader, SFW content

Sukuna looks at the pile of boxed chocolates, seemingly unphased. Everyone peers to look. “Uwah! You got so much this year!” Yuuji exclaims. “Ridiculous.” He sighs, shoving all of them into a disposable plastic bag. “It’s actually pretty amazing how you went out of your way to bring your own plastic bag for this. You were expecting this, weren’t you? Pretentious bastard,” Nobara adds. “Well, it does happen every year,” Megumi says as he casually scrolls through his phone.

Megumi's the first one to leave for class and Nobara and Yuuji follow after him. You look at the daunting bag of chocolates Sukuna holds in his hand and gulps. “Do you like chocolate, Sukuna?” You ask him carefully. “...Not particularly. I don’t like sweet things. But if I throw these out, that idiot’ll never stop yapping about it. Something about going to hell if you waste food. So annoying,” he clicks his tongue. You offer a laugh at his brutal honesty, quietly regretting your own chocolates that you had made to give him today.

The two of you were dating anyway, so it wasn’t exactly necessary, right? Sukuna discreetly gives you a side glance, but you don’t notice it.

Morning classes passed by without much happening, and it soon became lunch. You watch as a classmate approaches Sukuna at his desk and holds her own homemade chocolate out towards him. “Hey. I just wanted to give you this. No feelings involved though, so don’t worry about it,” she tells him. This was obviously said for you to hear, since there was almost nobody in this school who didn’t know of his relationship with you (Sukuna is notorious for just as many reasons as Yuuji is...maybe a little more towards the sinister side of things). This apparently didn’t stop people from trying though, unfortunately. It would be a lie if you said you didn’t feel the least bothered by this. Sukuna looks at her lazily, and just gestures towards the bulging plastic bag that lay beside his desk. The class atmosphere freezes up a little as everyone looks over. S-So cold…! They all thought in unison.

However, the girl just gives a small chuckle as if she had been expecting such a reaction and just added hers onto the pile before going back to her own group of friends. “What a cruel guy,” Nobara gives Sukuna a look of distaste. He shrugs in response and proceeds to yawn. “Now, now…” You naturally take the role of the peacemaker, simultaneously thinking about what you should do with your chocolates. You had actually made four small bags, one for each of your friends. They were wrapped in clear plastic sleeves, tied up with a ribbon on top. Except, Sukuna’s one is...

Yuuji and Megumi both stroll in through the classroom door. “Yo~! We came to visit. Let’s eat lunch here today!” He says cheerfully. The two of them take the empty seats of the students who went to the cafeteria to eat. You couldn’t give the chocolates to Sukuna in front of them. Then you’d have to give him his as well - or else it'd feel like you were excluding him. Guess I'll just give it to them later on, privately.

“And? Where’s our choco, Y/N?” Nobara cheekily grins at you. You freeze up, mind giving you a throwback to the memories of last night when you had told her of your plans in advance. Silent panic echoes in your mind. “I-It’s,” You feel Sukuna’s gaze shift onto you, “...In my bag!” You hurriedly rummage your bag and pull out the three bags, making sure to avoid eye contact. “I made one for all three of you…” You say, avoiding eye contact with him. “Eh? You made one for us too?” Yuuji asks, wide-eyed. “Yeah. I thought I’d give it a try this year.” You hand them all over. “Thanks, Y/N!” Yuuji immediately opens it and plops one into his mouth. “It’s good!” Megumi also gives you a thanks but puts it to the side for now, wanting to finish his lunch first. Nobara gives you a questioning look. “What about Sukuna?” “Eh? Ah, I... kind of figured he didn’t like sweets so,” you turn to face him. “Sorry, Sukuna. Should I have made you some as well? I wasn’t sure if couples who were already dating gave chocolates on Valentines.” It’s a painful lie, but you manage to say it. “...No. I don't really care.” He looks entirely unaffected. It kind of hurt in its own way, but you ignore it and sigh out of relief for now. It was way too embarrassing to give it to him in front of the group. But now that you've said such a lie, you don't think you’ll be able to give it to him at all anymore. There was a bit of an awkward silence momentarily, but Yuuji being Yuuji - naturally carried the group's conversation elsewhere.

A few minutes later, Sukuna stands up to go to the toilet. Whilst Yuuji and Megumi are talking about something that you admittedly zoned out on, Nobara snatches up your bag and takes a peek inside. “H-Hey!” You shout-whispered. “...I knew it. You did make them! Why are you-” She stops and notices their shape. “That’s so...cute?” She gives out an amused laugh and quietly puts it back down. You fan at your face, cheeks aching with embarrassment. “Make sure you give them to him. Trust me. I’ll beat him up if he doesn’t appreciate it,” she tells you. “I’ll try…” you say meekly. Unbeknownst to you, Yuuji grins at Megumi upon hearing this and Megumi responds with his own subtle smile.

- The bell rings for the end of school. Sukuna stands and leaves first, telling you that he had something he needed to do after school and that you should go home first. Before you can stop him, he's already left the classroom. “Go after him,” Nobara pushes you, so you hurriedly pack your things up before running out.

More than ten minutes have passed, and you can’t find him. You want to call or text him, but you’re worried that he was in the midst of doing something important. It’s rare of him to stay back at school, after all. You sigh, and tell yourself that you’ll just give up with this year’s one.

Walking out of the school’s entrance, you see Sukuna standing nearby with his usual bored expression, hands in his pockets. He catches sight of you and immediately approaches. “I thought you had something to do at school?” You start to say. “Obviously a lie. What took you so damn long?” He scratches the back of his head in annoyance. “I was looking for you inside! Also why did you lie?” You question him. “Nevermind that. You could have just called...No, that’s not the issue right now. Give.” He suddenly stretches his palm out in front of you. “Eh? Give what?” The thought of the chocolates go right over your head.

“You...the thing that you gave to everyone else except me. I know you have mine. Don’t keep me waiting,” He says, frowning. The realisation hits you like a truck and you give him a helpless smile. “How’d you know…?” You ask, quick to reach into your bag. “How long do you think I’ve known you for? The others probably knew too,” he says nonchalantly. “But I thought you wouldn’t want them...you've gotten so much. And you don’t even like sweets.” You place the bag gently on his palm. “Idiot. We’re dating. There’s no reason to not accept them if you've made some for me.” He gives them a look and grins. “Oh…? Now I understand why you couldn’t give it to me in front of the others.”

Only Sukuna’s chocolates were heart-shaped, when the others' had been circular ones. He’d rather die than admit it, but he thrives on getting this kind of special attention from you. You get flustered and look at your feet. “It’s true that I don’t really like sweets.” He tells you suddenly. “You don’t have to force yourself to eat them-” “But there’s a way of eating them that would make it taste a bit better,” he cuts you off. You were confused as to what he was talking about, and you watched as he opened the bag and popped one of them into his mouth before pulling you in for a kiss.

Your eyes were widened in shock as you barely had the time to register all of this - he was already slipping his tongue into your mouth. One hand on your hip, and the other on the back of your neck, you're so close to his body, getting pulled into his warmth that threatens to melt you, the taste of the chocolate starting to spreading across your taste buds as he's making out with you passionately. Before you know it, you're reciprocating the gesture and kissing him back, your hands rising up, gripping tightly onto his uniform. Chocolate has never tasted any sweeter. You can feel your own body beginning to heat up and you're gradually running out of breath. As your tongue is intertwining with his, the chocolate is getting pushed back and forth, and your desire to get even closer to him is growing, growing, growing.

The last of the chocolate had melted away from the exhilarating temperature the two of you had built up and he finally breaks the kiss, leaving you breathless and gasping for air. You can't tell if this remaining aftertaste that lingered on your tongue was the taste of the chocolate, or the taste of him. Nonetheless, you adore it.

“Much better.” He licks his lips and smirks at you. Still in shock, you lack a response except for your flustered face and your eyes that are now reflecting a glint of lust within. Sukuna hums in satisfaction at this expression of yours and he gently drags his thumb across your lower lip.

“We should do this more often.”

#sukuna #ryomen sukuna #sukuna x reader #highschool au #one shot #spicy #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu sukuna #sfw #fluff

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lfc21 · 2 years

Text

The terrible twos

Trent and you had to decided to take your two year old daughter to his mum and dad's house for her birthday. She was beyond excited and couldn't wait to spend her day with her nan and grandad. She couldn't quite understand the idea that it was her birthday but she did understand getting lots of cuddles and kisses from people and also the presents. You both had decided to go late afternoon early evening so it was nice and chilled but with a toddler it was never going to be that way.

"Oh hello birthday girl!" Diane proudly shouted as she opened the front door to her little granddaughter and you two. Your daughter ran in with her little bunny teddy and made a straight beeline for two people in particular. Trents brothers. She had an obsession with her uncles, a big one. Ever since she could walk and talk she has none stop made it very clear that Tyler and Marcel where her favourite people to set beneath her eyes, making trent slightly jealous.

"How has she been?" Diane asked walking you both through the hall towards the living room waiting to find the chaos your child had already started.

"She's been good to be honest, very excited" you laughed proceeding to walk into the busy living room, noticing something. No chaos. Your little girl had sat herself directly in the middle of her two uncles with her teddy sat on Marcel's knee for protection.

"Oi y/d/n what about me? Why do they get cuddles?" trent softly said with a sad face as he sat himself down on the floor leaning his back on the bottom of the couch.

"She's just realised where so much better" tyler announced picking her up and placing her on his knees. She looked up at him and back to trent who now had a face like thunder as he was getting slightly more jealous.

"Nooo! I don't think that's the truth" trent replied looking at his daughter who had set her eyes on her dad's eyes and found it quite more amusing than any other individual would.

"She finds your face funny" Marcel announced whilst on his phone causing his dad to laugh at his quick comment that fell from his mouth. His dad had taught all three of the boys to insult each off them in the weirdest of times especially when it's never needed.

"Oi! There's no need for that" Diane shouted whilst sat next to you watching the argument slightly un ravel. Diane layed her cup of tea down running out into the dinning room to collect god knows what.

"Wheres my mum just gone?" Trent asked you with a confused look upon him as his mum just randomly left. Within the same breath she came back in with a huge gift bag of y/d/n's presents.

"Tyler put her down before my arm breaks, this is surprisingly heavy" dianne asked needing the little girl to sit herself on the floor so she could set the presents down before there's a quick trip to a&e due to the weight. Your little girl crawled over to trent as soon as tyler put her down on the soft carpet. Trent grabbed her little arms and sat her between his legs now getting stuck with a little teddy in his face.

"Happy birthday princess" Diane said placing all the presents down infront of her. You watched your daughters eyes light up in amaze at everything wrapped in pink glittery wrapping paper.

"Dada look" your daughter said innocently trying to pronounce her words the best she could. Trent looked down to where she was pointing and made himsef look far more amused then he actually was.

"Wooow! What do we say to grandma and grandad?" Trent asked making sure she knew to say thank you to her favourite people. She carefully ran over to them both with a big smile still keeping tight hold of her bunny. Dianne and Michael gave her a huge hug and her bunny, as she would not leave without a hug for her and her bunny.

"Pwesents" she shouted jumping down of the couch and running towards trent and the array of gifts.

"Trent make sure she dosent eat the paper" you laughed being slightly conscious of not just eating paper but glitter aswell.

"That's dada not Twent" she said softly pointing at her dad next to her. Trent looked down at his daughter who had sat next to him with her back also on the couch making them look like a big and little version of one another apart from the pink outfit and tiny airforce trainers she had on.

"I'm dada to you but Trent is still my name you wolly" trent joked picking her up and placing her on his knee whilst she tried to open a present. Trent started to help her with his hands that where far larger than her tiny ones.

"Twent?" She mumbled to herself wondering where it had ever come from. She had heard everyone call trent by his first name but she had never put two and two together.

"Yes twent like your name is y/d/n" trent replied back letting free the present from the wrapping making her eyes light up.

"Mummy mummy dress for bunny!" She shouted running off trent towards you in excitement over her newest accessorie for her favourite thing in the world.

"Woooow" you said to her in a very disbelief tone as to this tiny little girl it was the best present ever.

After all the present opening and screaming from your little toddler you had all decided to watch a film as the evening was drawing in. You and trent sat on the couch with dianne and Michael with your little girl rested in the middle of you both now changed in her pyjamas. Michael, trent, Tyler and Marcel where the least bit impressed about watching the little mermaid for what felt like the 76th time but a brave face and a broken heart was what they had to deal with.

"Oh god I'm tired" trent said with a yawn as he slapped his thighs ready to get up due to the film ending. Trent looked over at your daughter who had fell fast asleep latched onto your side with her bunny held by trents hand.

"Clearly this one was aswell" you said with a smile looking down at the little girls face who had experienced the most amazing day with a million presents and cuddles from the best people.

#trent alexander arnold x y/n #trent alexander arnold x reader #trent alexander arnold imagines #trent alexander arnold imagine #trent alexander arnold #lfc masterlist #lfc imagines #liverpool imagines #england imagines #england x reader #england fc imagines #england team imagine

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dilucids · 3 years

Text

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤCelebrity crush, Genshin boys idol! au

admitting you're their celebrity crush and their reaction to your reaction

includes: kaeya, diluc, zhongli and xiao

( can't stop thinking about idol! au genshin. any type of celebrity but it's hinted that you're a singer in xiao's. )

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ〔 KAEYA ALBERICH ━━ FROSTWIND SWORDSMAN 〕

━━ this man is sooooo fucking slick with it.

━━ he'll slyly bring it up in an interview or a live with a smirk on his face and then act as if it never happened when someone questions him.

━━ his members just stares at him when he brings you up, knowing, that beneath that sly persona and nonchalant act, there was millions pounds worth of fan merchandise in his room.

━━ he would evade the subject and if it's an interview, the host would have to pry answers from his members instead as he sits there proudly with a smile on his face as his members tell his fan behaviour instead of him.

━━ in a live, he would somehow convince his fans they were hallucinating but someone would post the clip and everyone would just go ballistic, it'd be one of those "top ten things i can't believe kaeya managed to get away with: gaslighting his fans into believing they were crazy."

"Who's your favourite celebrity?" Kaeya reads out from the comments passing quickly through his Instagram live, he pretends to think. A smile forms on his face when he 'decides' on an answer, "probably [Name]."

He watches the comments speed through even quicker before changing the subject, dropping the matter as if it never happened. His fans are all freaking out though, wanting to get more details on his crush on the celebrity but Kaeya ignores all comments about the subject. They never die down though, only ending when Kaeya himself ends the live.

━━ you may have ended on the same show some time after him and the host brings it up ( 100% planned for views ).

━━ it makes you smile because you've already been informed about this topic by your fans and kaeya's.

━━ you'd end up thanking kaeya for the support and say that you've also been lowkey a fan of his group but you've never openly stated that to anyone.

━━ his fans and your fans immediately get to work and start tagging kaeya's insta/twitter, group and personal, under the clip of you shyly admitting you're a fan of his also and he goes mental.

━━ probably sits there watching the entire interview with a huge smile on his face, and it doesn't leave, not even after he finishes the interview ( bonus: diluc is very disturbed ).

━━ HUGE ego boost for the rest of the day. kaeya's normally very confident but he's extra confident, like starts strutting around like he's the shit and even had the balls to nod his head at diluc as if to say "what's up" with the largest shit eating grin on his face.

━━ diluc definitely thought he was picking a fight.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ〔 DILUC RAGNVINDR ━━ DARKNIGHT HERO 〕

━━ more likely to come from one of his members than him.

━━ or he'd be very smooth with it, and brings it up rather subtly. it'd be a small "oh, i ingest their content and enjoy it" and he'd just continue about his day

━━ and his fans will still go insane because diluc actually enjoying something seems weird, especially another celebrity's work

━━ this would obviously reach you, who was an open fan of his group, and you'd freak out when you see it but wouldn't bring it up because he only said he enjoyed your work, not he was a fan.

━━ would definitely get questioned if he was being interviewed on a talk show, he wouldn't evade the question.

━━ he doesn't really see a point in lying, so he simply shrugs and tells the host that he is a fan and owns some merchandise.

"Diluc, a few fans are curious about your statement the other day," the host redirects the questions to Diluc, who raises an eyebrow. "Is it true that you're a fan of [Name]?"

The question makes his heart pick up a little, he leans back on his chair and clears his throat, composing himself before nodding. "I am a fan," the host seems happy by his response. The conversation continues to steer in this direction, asking Diluc if he had attended any fan meetings or merchandise, how he would feel if you two collaborated for a project and then finally ending once the host asks other members if they were fans of anyone.

━━ he thinks nothing of it, continuing with his day as usual but when he gets mentioned by your twitter? the man loses his shit.

━━ he sits there staring at his screen like he was hallucinating and literally tunes everything else out, staring at your little: "i'd love to work with you too!" message with a small smiley face at the end.

━━ he checks the account multiple times just in case it was one of his fans trolling him but clicking on the @ takes him back to your account so he gives in at some point

━━ he types out a normal, professional "thank you, i hope a time comes when we can collaborate" and "i look forward to more of your works" but he's still losing his shit.

━━ stays in his mind for at least a week.

━━ fans always bring up the fact that y'all never did end up collaborating.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ〔 ZHONGLI ━━ VAGO MUNDO 〕

━━ the public is very aware.

━━ he's never made an attempt to hide how he is a fan, not even the massive poster in his room or the little keychain that he hangs on his bag nor the red eyeliner belonging to a makeup brand that you became a brand embassador for, also now one of his favourite brands.

━━ so no one is really surprised when he talks about you or your upcoming work, what is kinda surprising is when he straight up says that he says you're his ideal type.

━━ not because it's shocking that you'd be anyone's ideal type but because they didn't expect the out of the blue question from host and it's even more mind boggling when the man doesn't even stutter nor even think before just saying your name.

━━ members are sat beside him literally losing their shit in both negative ( scandals and shit ) and positive ( it's fucking hilarious ) ways as he just blinks.

━━ he doesn't even look the slightest bit worried as he stares dead straight through the host's head.

━━ obviously scandals emerge, there are positive and negative reactions. some people suddenly realise how good you two would look together and others are mad you "stole" their man because we have delulus in all fandoms.

"So Zhongli," the host starts before clearing his throat, obviously a tad uncomfortable under the eldest member's sudden gaze, "who is your ideal type?" The members also seem curious, as they stop their interactions, staring over at their unusually emotionless member.

One member laughs, waving the question off as a joke and as a way to avoid any possible scandals, knowing that Zhongli wouldn't filter his words due to his lacking understanding of social cues. "C'mon, there's no way that he has an id━━"

"If I had to say, then [Name] suits my preferences." The member who tried to wave it off blinks, staring at Zhongli like he just murdered someone and other members laugh. The host seems pleasantly surprised, peering at the camera with a raised eyebrow and a certain look on his face. The entire studio never gets over it.

━━ it's brought to your attention on twitter because twitter is usually where shit goes down.

━━ you've always been aware that zhongli has been a fan but you've never been able to speak up about it due to your management.

━━ luckily for you, your contract with your previous strict company had ended just a while ago and under your new management, you were more free to do whatever you wanted.

━━ so obviously, you quote tweet the video, tag his account and say in a jokingly way that he should take you out on a date first.

━━ he doesn't publicly reply to your tweet because he already got in trouble with his management for answering such a risky question anyways and your tweet is a little too suggestive.

━━ but he also wants you to know he has seen the tweet. so his solution? to slip into your dms.

━━ and all of a sudden, the next time you're both seen together, you're besties? so people started connecting dots and shit, were they good at connecting them. moral of the story: never underestimate zhongli fans because collectively, they may be able to beat zhongli in an iq test.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ〔 XIAO ━━ CONQUEROR OF DEMONS 〕

━━ best believe this man got death threated or held at gunpoint into admitting you're his celebrity crush.

━━ or he didn't do it at all and his members confessed for him just to tease him.

━━ happens on a group live, members are just vibing.

━━ xiao is sat in the back somewhere, scrolling through his phone with his earphones in so he doesn't notice his members shifting the camera to him or jumps onto him whilst holding the camera.

━━ when he does notice though, he takes out his earbud and your song just blARES through his earphone and it's fucking loud.

━━ he immediately turns it down but his fellow member already has this shit eating grin on his face and jumps onto xiao, successfully grabbing his phone and showing the live of 100k+ people.

━━ his homescreen is one of those "boyfriend/girlfriend/partner material" lockscreens of you and it shows that your song had been playing.

━━ xiao literally attacks his members and grabs his phone back, walking off to escape the embarrassment but can hear the echoing laughter as he walks down the hallway and slams his door closed.

Xiao lets out a sudden 'oompf' when his members glomps right ontop of him, grinning widely as they held up a camera to show off themselves and Xiao. Glancing at the camera, Xiao takes off an earbud, freezing when a loud upbeat tune echoes throughout the open area. Xiao ignores the feeling of his face heating up and turns down the song, ignoring the obvious gleeful stare of his member.

Almost on instinct, he moves his phone away but curse his parents for their genes because all it takes is a little stretching for his member to have his greasy fingers all over his phone, ripping it out of his hands and immediately running away to shield themselves from the wrath of all 5" and a bit of Xiao. When they deem it safe, they click on the home button of the screen, grinning amused at the homescreen.

"Look at fanboy Xiao!" And just like that, Xiao's cold demeanour had been shatteres infront of a plethora of people.

━━ you find it one of the most endearing things ever.

━━ literally how could you not? you find pride in yourself to have such a popular member of an idol group enjoy your work and it helps gain a little more confidence in yourself.

━━ it's brought up on a talk show kinda casually where the host is one of your friends so they are slightly teasing you for it all the whilst remaining on the professional side.

━━ and it's obvious to say that you're embarrassed by the way you chuckle and mess with your fingers and hair, but you hold yourself together anyways and manage a sweet "thank you for the support" to xiao when the host asks if you wanted to say something in case he was watching.

━━ and the very next day, on xiao's official instagram, he has a signed album and poster of yours, tagged and everything.

#genshin scenarios #genshin #genshin impact #genshin headcanons #genshin x gender neutral reader #genshin x reader #genshin xiao #genshin kaeya #genshin zhongli #genshin diluc #xiao x reader #zhongli x reader #kaeya x reader #diluc x reader

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bitsandbobsofwriting · 3 years

Text

5 times Merlin noticed Arthur’s odd reactions to things,

+1 time he could start on the road to helping.

TW: Graphic descriptions of child abuse, claustrophobia, panic attacks/flashbacks/disassociating.

Merlin notices things. He always has done, ever since he was a child. Maybe it was the magic, maybe it was the ingrained fear of being snuck up on (as a Bastard child, as a citizen of Essetir, and as someone with magic) or maybe it was just some odd, innate skill. It doesn’t really matter: Merlin is observant, he has keen eyes, which is why he notices Arthur’s sudden change in disposition.

It was a normal afternoon, Arthur and Merlin had just gotten back from the first hunt of the spring and were filling The King in on how it had gone. Well... Arthur was, Merlin was just sort of stood there.

The servant was annoyed that Arthur had dragged him along, both to the hunt and to the meeting, but The Prince had been so excited (not that he showed it too much) at the prospect of telling his father how well everything went, he conceded easily. It was rare that Arthur got his father’s approval; Merlin had only been serving him for a few months, so maybe it was stupid of him to want to see Arthur happy, but oh well. He may be a prat, but he meant well and he loved his people, he deserved a little happiness occasionally.

Uther was in fact proud, and Merlin had better luck than Arthur at holding his grin in, though that changed quickly.

Arthur was looking out of the window and making casual comments on when he planned on going out next, and Uther, stepping quietly without even realising it, manages to move to the space just behind him without Arthur noticing. He claps a firm, but proud hand on Arthur’s shoulder, and if Merlin hadn’t known that Arthur would deny it later, he would accuse him of jumping a foot in the air. He turns around quickly, eyes wide and barely focusing as Uther gives his son another congratulations, as well as a terse “Make sure you keep it up.”

The sudden tightness in Arthur’s shoulders and his clear discomfort at having Uther so close do not go unnoticed by Merlin and he frowns, making a split second decision that could very well get him put in the stocks:

“Sorry to interrupt, My Lords, but The Prince mentioned wanting to join the evening patrol. Sir Leon and his partner will be leaving shortly.”

Uther whips his head around disapprovingly, and his anger at Merlin for interrupting whatever it was he was about to say translates to a tightened grip on Arthur’s shoulder. The Prince flinches slightly, but carefully steps away from The King, speaking before he can order the servant punished:

“Right you are, Merlin. If you’re happy for me to take my leave, father?”

Uther looks back to his son, confused, but approving of Arthur’s sudden eagerness to join extra patrols:

“Very well. I expect you to keep up the hard work, Arthur, I shall be disappointed if you start slacking again.”

Arthur nods and bows, but doesn’t say anything, his jittery demeanour getting worse with The King’s vaguely threatening tone. He walks stiffly from the room, and Merlin follows with a confused frown, making sure to keep his distance and step loudly on the stone floor; apparently Arthur was feeling jumpy today.

Arthur, still in his armour, leads them down to the courtyard where Sir Leon and another knight were indeed preparing to leave. The Prince doesn’t say anything to Merlin, simply nods in his direction before joining the others, and Merlin thinks he must have done the right thing if Arthur wasn’t shouting at him for giving him extra work that he hadn’t intended to do.

He stores this new, odd information in his mind for future reference, reminding himself to stay away from The Prince’s back and warn him of anyone approaching.

The next thing Merlin notices doesn’t come from a specific incident, more from a series of odd happenings over time.

When Arthur had been released from the dungeons after Merlin’s miraculous survival from being poisoned, he was a mess. At the time, Merlin had smugly suggested that it was because Arthur was worried about him; his hair was similar to a bird’s nest, as if The Prince had been running his hands through it and pulling it on a near constant basis, and the shirt he was wearing frankly stunk of sweat.

Arthur had rolled his eyes at that and slunk off to sulk in his chambers—once Gaius had assured him Merlin would be fine—and the young servant had taken that as confirmation.

The first time Merlin actually witnesses Arthur’s quick, shallow breath and wide panicked eyes, they’re rushing through the narrow servant corridors. The Prince’s grip on his sword looks uncomfortably tight and the sweat on his brow seems a little odd: they weren’t running that fast. Merlin figures that Arthur is just stressed out from trying to catch the sneaky arsehole assassin who was trying to do in as many councilmen as he could before getting away.

Which is an understandable thing to be stressed about.

Merlin only takes actual note of it when, after the assassin had gotten away, The King had demanded Arthur retrace his footsteps back through the castle to see if the criminal had dropped anything or hidden anywhere. Arthur practically freezes up at that, his wide eyes and pale skin making Merlin frown in confusion, only for his frown to deepen when Arthur stutters through his suggestion of having another knight lead the internal search whilst Arthur heads out into the city.

The relief on Arthur’s face when Uther agrees is, though brief and immediately hidden, immense.

Merlin thinks back on the state Arthur had been in after he’d quested for Merlin’s cure. Perhaps... perhaps Arthur had been such a mess because he had spent a night in the dungeons, and not because he had been worried about Merlin.

As much as Arthur might like to think Merlin’s an idiot, the servant makes quick connections, pieces things together easily, like a children’s puzzle. At least when it comes to Arthur.

The servant is also reminded of the way Arthur insists that Merlin leave a few candles lit in the evening. At first, Merlin thought it was because Arthur was sneaking out of bed to get more paperwork done (Uther may rarely see it, but Arthur works ridiculously hard), but he checked the paperwork one morning and nothing had been added or altered. Then he though that it was maybe so Arthur could see any attackers coming in the night, because he was paranoid like that, but the candles always burnt out after a couple hours anyway, so it wasn’t like they were lasting through the night.

Merlin figures he was probably just reading into things too much (plus, he knows that accusing Arthur of being afraid of the dark or tight spaces would get him nothing but a slap up the head and, depending on The Prince’s mood, a visit to the stocks), though Arthur refusing to stay in Merlin’s tiny bedroom for any longer than necessary, and insisting on multiple torches being lit whenever they ventured into caves, forces Merlin to reconsider.

It was after one such adventure in one such cave that Merlin took advantage of the castle’s funds being available to him, and heads down to the market to buy some larger candles (and if he cast a spell to make them last longer... well... no one needed to know). Arthur gives him an odd look when he walks into The Prince’s chambers that evening and begins setting up and lighting them without acknowledgement; Merlin answers his questioning hum without looking at him:

“I know you like to be able to see just in case attackers make it into your chambers: these ones should last all the way until the morning. I set up a standing order with a merchant in the lower town.”

Arthur frowns confusedly, knowing that no one had managed to sneak into his chambers in months; it was definitely odd that Merlin had suddenly decided that this was a good idea. Still, Merlin doesn’t look back at him as he casually moves around the room, lighting the new candles and hoping that Arthur wouldn’t notice him leaving the curtains open by about an inch. He notices, though he doesn’t mention it in his response:

“Hmm. It seems you’re finally putting that brain of yours to use, Merlin.”

Merlin finally turns to look at him, glaring half-heartedly as he sarcastically laughs. Arthur just grins at him, glancing at the strip of moonlight on the floor for only a moment before climbing into his bed, muttering for Merlin to go ahead and get an early night.

From then on, Merlin packs extra torches in his pack when they go adventuring, and if he has room, a candle, in case they end up in an inn. If Arthur notices any of that, or the fact that Merlin always opens the window whenever they’re in the tiny Physician’s chambers for more than five minutes and always keeps him company on the now-rare nights Uther is angry enough to lock Arthur in the dungeons... well... neither of them point it out.

The next odd reaction doesn’t happen until years later.

Of course Merlin keeps noticing Arthur’s aversion to surprise touch (especially from knights and his father) and general dislike of the dark/closed spaces, but dealing with it and adjusting to make things easier just sort of becomes part of their routine, without either of them really realising.

Arthur has been King for a few weeks when it happens. It's warm, too warm for armour, so the roundtable knights are practicing their hand to hand instead of using swords and shields. Arthur usually sits out for these lessons, teaching and observing from the side-lines as opposed to taking part in spars. Merlin had always thought it was odd, but the one and only time he had brought it up, years ago, Arthur had forced him to join in on the lessons. He had a lot of bruises that day.

But today was not a usual day apparently; Arthur joined in. He seemed reluctant at first, like he was unsure if he actually wanted to, but his first weeks as King had been going well and he’d had a successful meeting with some of his Lords the previous day, so he’s in a good mood. He finally caves when Lancelot offers to spar with him; there was something about the gentle man that just makes everyone in his vicinity feel a little more at ease.

The sun was shining, but heavy rain the previous week means the grass was bright and soft; all in all, it was a lovely day, but Merlin’s focus was still on Arthur and the way he and Lance dance around each other. All the knights were holding their strength back a little, the purpose of sparring is rarely to go all out, but practicing form and technique and footwork is always a good idea.

Arthur falls into the rhythm of the spar, dodging and side-stepping and blocking with ease, neither he nor Lance were eager to speed things up in the heat. He was moving automatically, running on instincts and just a little bit of adrenaline, which is probably why he freezes up when confronted with something so terrifyingly familiar.

A glint of sunlight off something metallic caches his eye, and his gaze moves away from the fight for barely a split-second, but when he looks back all he can see is shortly cropped brown hair, a bright red tunic, and a fist swinging for his face.

Lancelot yelps when Arthur doesn’t block like he had expected him to, and Merlin is sprinting over before The King’s head has even finished rocking to the side. The other knights go to crowd closer, worried for their leader, but Merlin waves them off harshly and they keep their distance, trusting him. Lancelot looks horrified, but dutifully steps back as Merlin puts one hand on Arthur’s shoulder and uses the other to tilt his chin from side to side.

Merlin’s frown deepens when Arthur just lets himself be manhandled. Even in his worst injuries he was reluctant to let people check him over; Merlin quickly notices his wide eyes staring vacantly and the breathing that was far deeper than it really should be. He tries to get The King to look at him as he speaks lowly, so the others can’t hear him:

“Arthur? You with me?”

Arthur gulps, blinking rapidly and meeting his gaze, though Merlin can tell that he still isn’t really seeing:

“I... I’m sorry, I... I didn’t mean... I wasn’t...”

Merlin can only just hear Arthur’s whispers, and he’s grateful for the fact that the others definitely can’t hear them. He moves the hand on Arthur’s shoulder down to grip the other man’s hand and squeezes, and uses the other to shield his eyes from the sun as he mutters:

“Arthur, it’s Merlin, you’re out on the training field with members of the Roundtable, it’s late Spring, and you were crowned King three weeks ago. Arthur?”

It’s only then that Arthur’s eyes come into focus.

Merlin has never been grateful to have the bones in his hands almost break, and he doubts he’ll ever be grateful for it again. Merlin’s squeezes back, digging his nails in just a little as a subtle “please don’t break my hand”. Arthur loosens his grip and Merlin raises his eyebrow slightly in question; the blonde groans slightly and lifts a shaking hand to rub his eyes:

“What happened?”

Merlin glances at the huddle of knights behind him and gives them a reassuring smile before he looks back to Arthur, speaking so everyone can hear:

“You took quite the well placed hit from Lance, got a mild concussion and lost yourself for a minute. You’ll probably be fine by this evening, but I want to get you in the shade just in case, ok?”

Arthur seems surprised at the explanation, but nods wordlessly, letting Merlin guide him up towards the castle without a fuss. That just worries Merlin more, and he speeds up slightly as he yells over his shoulder:

“Leon’s in charge!”

Leon just chuckles, knowing that Merlin wouldn’t be paying them the slightest bit of attention if Arthur was even close to being seriously injured, but Gwaine just tilts his head and frowns:

“I love the guy but since when does Merlin decide who’s in charge? If he had said Elyan was in charge would we have just... gone with it?”

Leon shoves him playfully and tells him to get back to work, giving Lancelot a comforting pat on the shoulder as they all look away from the servant-King duo.

Merlin doesn’t take Arthur to the physician’s chambers, but goes to The King’s bedchamber instead; Arthur wasn’t actually concussed, but his mind had been elsewhere for a moment, so much so that he hadn’t recognised Merlin and spoke to him as if he were someone else. He sits The King down on the edge of the bed and kneels in front of him, hands on his knees as he frowns:

“Arthur? Still with me, or gone again?”

Arthur takes in a sharp breath, making eye contact with Merlin again as he straightens his back and answers confidently, his voice wavering only slightly:

“Yeah, yes, I’m with you. Sorry, lost in thought. I don’t feel concussed, are you sure?”

Merlin nods and stands up, leaving Arthur on the bed as he moves to open the window and get him a goblet of water:

“Hmm, I lied, I don’t think you are either, you weren’t hit that hard to be honest, but you weren’t really... with it, thought it best to get you away from the others.-”

He turns around the see Arthur tense and angry-looking, though Merlin gets the distinct impression that it’s not aimed at him:

“-You probably just got dazed by the hit, that and you’re overtired, you’ve been staying up late the last few nights. Drink this, maybe have a nap, or at least stay out of the sunlight for a few hours, you’ll definitely be getting a headache at some point soon and I don’t want you to make it worse.”

He hands over the goblet of water, holding it slightly out of Arthur’s reach so the other man has to stand for it. He manages to stand on his own two feet with no issue, and the shaking in his hands is lesser than it was before, though not gone entirely, so Merlin makes a mental list of all the chores that he could finish here, in Arthur’s presence. The King drinks the water absent-mindedly, leaving the goblet on the side table as he mutters:

“Overtired... yeah, probably.”

He wanders towards his desk, collapsing in the seat and staring half-heartedly at the paperwork spread all over the place. Merlin relaxes slightly, deciding that maybe there was a reason Arthur never joined in on hand-to-hand.

Merlin wasn’t fond of Arthur’s current visitor, Lord Algere, but he was pleased to note that Arthur didn’t seem all that fond of him either. He was an old supporter of Uther’s, which meant the occasional snide remark about how Uther would’ve handled certain situations differently, followed by deferential admissions of being “a close friend and advisor to the former King.”.

He was just friendly and kiss-ass enough that he couldn’t be kicked from court, that Arthur still had to be polite to him, but he rubbed pretty much everyone up the wrong way and Merlin couldn’t wait until he left to go back to his estate, thankfully situated on the furthest edge of the Kingdom.

It's the day before he’s due to leave when he says it:

“You remind me of your father a great deal, you know, you’re very similar.”

Arthur freezes up at the so-called compliment, but recovers quickly, giving the Lord a tight smile before excusing himself so he wouldn’t be late for the city border patrol he was undertaking. Normally Merlin didn’t go with him on these patrols, he’d only be gone for a couple hours at most and he was joined by a partner; it gave Merlin time to finish up some chores, but the servant felt the need to be there today.

The King is silent the entire time, which is unusual considering he's riding alongside Sir Leon today, and those two always have something official to talk about. He doesn’t even spare Merlin an annoyed glance when the servant drops his bag and has to dismount to pick it up, only halts and waits for him to catch up again. Though he's sure The King had relaxed slightly at the beginning of the patrol, when Merlin mentioned that he fancied tagging along, and if Merlin weren’t so worried he’d be immensely proud at his apparent ability to put Arthur at ease.

Leon gives Merlin a worried grimace as they ride back into the citadel, but Merlin shakes his head and smiles, his meaning of “I’ll deal with it, I’m sure he’s fine” obvious in the action. The two of them have gotten quite good at silently communicating over the years, God forbid Arthur find out that they were trying to look after him.

They made the journey up to Arthur’s chambers in continued silence, though Merlin really starts to really worry when Arthur just wanders over to the window and stares down into the courtyard. He only does that when he’s feeling particularly pensive. Merlin lays out the work he knows Arthur had wanted to get done this afternoon and perches on the edge of the desk, facing Arthur’s back with his arms crossed:

“Arthur, you alright? You’ve been quiet.”

Arthur nods, but doesn’t turn away from the window, staying silent. Merlin purses his lips, but it doesn’t take him long to figure out what he thinks might be wrong. He moves across the room and sits himself down at the dining table, casually starting on the polishing he had left there earlier as he speaks, trying to keep his tone as neutral and absent-minded as possible:

“I’ve no clue what Algere was talking about earlier, he either knows nothing about you, or didn’t know your father nearly as much as he says he did.”

Arthur finally turns from the window, fixing a curious frown on Merlin, who forces himself to keep his gaze down:

“What makes you say that?”

Merlin still doesn’t look up, but knows that he’s on the right track. Arthur has been able to admit, especially recently with his changing opinions on magic, that his father was not a good man, though he still struggles to admit that he wasn’t a good father:

“Well, from what I’ve seen, you look way more like your mother than you do Uther, and you don’t act like him at all, you haven’t picked up on any of his mannerisms or anything.-”

The servant finally looks up at Arthur, his words true but his nonchalance false as he continues with a confused frown:

“-To be honest, I’ve always thought you act more like an odd mix of Leon and Morgana. You’ve definitely got Leon’s sense of chivalry and respect and his knightly traits, but your... how do I say... fiery attitude when it comes to your sense of right and wrong, that’s definitely Morgana. Uther was quick to anger, you’ve got fairly good control of your anger nowadays. Uther was set in his ways and refused to change no matter the consequences, you bend traditions all the time, improve things in ways that Uther would never have dreamed of doing.-”

The servant shrugs and looks back down to his polishing:

“-I just don’t see the similarities, and I certainly know you better than Algere. I’ve a feeling I knew Uther better than Algere as well.”

Arthur hums non-committedly, but sits down at his desk instead of turning back to the window. Merlin feels the tension leave his shoulders, but doesn’t relax fully when he notices Arthur staring at his folded hands instead of working. Apparently it had only partially worked:

“Arthur?”

He doesn’t look up, just shuffles slightly in his eat as he lowly answers:

“Do you think I might... turn out like him? In the end? People say he was kind and gentle when he was young. If... if I ever have children...”

The question goes unasked, but the fear in his voice is palpable, and Merlin has to stop himself from sprinting from the room to burn every painting of Uther he can find. Instead, he puts the armour down on the table softly and stands, making sure to step loudly and clear his throat as he leans against the edge of Arthur’s desk again:

“Arthur, you’re a wonderful King, a wonderful knight, a wonderful man, and I guarantee that one day you’ll be a wonderful father. Don’t stress, you’ve out done your father in every other aspect of your life, I’m sure you’ll continue to do so.”

Arthur looks up at Merlin with a slight frown on his face, though it’s more thoughtful than anything. Merlin holds his gaze with a soft smile for a few moments, content to wait for Arthur to give him some sort of cue; Arthur just rolls his eyes and shoves him from the table, picking up a quill and finally beginning to actually work:

“Try not to insult the former King too much in one sitting, Merlin. And that armour won’t polish itself.”

Merlin just laughs quietly and moves back to the table, understanding and accepting that that was probably the best he was going to get. He makes a mental note to mention Arthur’s similarities to Leon next time the three of them are together; Arthur will be relieved, though he won’t show it, and Leon will be flattered beyond words.

He dares not do it with Morgana. Both of them would be secretly be pleased, though they’d kick up one hell of a fuss trying to deny it.

Thankfully, the two of them are in Arthur’s chambers when it happens.

Merlin’s not entirely sure he could use the “concussion” excuse like he did last time, not with the length of time it lasted.

It’s late, the curtains are drawn—with the traditional inch wide gap allowing a strip of moonlight to fall across the floor and over Arthur’s bed—and Arthur’s special candles have been lit. He’d been made aware of the spell Merlin had cast on them a few months ago, and though he was annoyed that Merlin had put himself at such risk, he hadn’t asked him to remove the spell, which the servant took as a good sign (both that Arthur wasn’t too mad about the magic, and that it had been a good idea).

The King sits at his desk, doing his normal pile of evening paperwork and trying to fit in as much as he can before Merlin snatches it away and manhandles him into bed, Merlin who is generally pottering around the room tidying. Arthur thinks of it more as just... moving the mess around, but he let’s him be; Merlin’s quiet company is much appreciated, especially with all the difficulties Arthur is having with repealing the ban on magic.

The King lets out a deep sigh, sitting back in his chair and tiredly rubbing his eyes. Merlin notices, because of course he does, and wanders over, a concerned frown on his face as he sits in the chair opposite him:

“You alright? Hit a snag?”

Arthur hums but shakes his head, opening his eyes but staying slumped in his seat; Merlin makes plans to get him to bed at some point in the next half candle mark at least:

“Hmm. No, just tired. This whole thing is draining, I wish I could just force them to see sense.”

Merlin knew that the them Arthur speaks of is the council. Currently, The King has about half of them on side, not including Leon, Morgana, and Gaius, but they need a majority by a significant margin before they can move forward, and Arthur refuses to act in any way that isn’t democratic.

Merlin nods, smiling softly at his lap as Arthur closes his eyes again:

“This is what it means to be King, Arthur,-”

At first, Merlin doesn’t notice the way Arthur’s eyes fly open, nor the way he slowly sits up straight, nor the way his shoulders tighten and his skin grows pale and his eyes go vacant.

“-but I think you’re doing great, don’t be too hard on... Arthur? Are you alright?”

Merlin frowns when he finally looks up to see The King sitting ramrod straight and staring into the middle distance, his breathing ragged and his blue eyes glassy and unseeing. He stands slowly, moving around to Arthur’s side to crouch there and wave a hand in front of his face.

He doesn’t react.

Merlin shakes his shoulder slightly, hesitating only momentarily before touching him, but even then, Arthur doesn’t respond. The servant gulps, glancing over his shoulder at the door to make sure it was locked before touching a hand to Arthur’s forehead and muttering a spell; he normally uses this spell to wake up unconscious people, but it has no effect on The King other than sending a slight shiver through his body.

Merlin calls his name a few times, but it expectedly has no effect. He tries to test Arthur’s pain awareness by pinching the underside of his arm, and whilst he flinches away slightly, he doesn’t come to, still stares blankly at the opposite wall. Merlin thinks of calling for the guards and asking for Gaius, but somehow he doesn’t think the elderly physician will be able to help; there was no magic at play here, and he certainly hadn’t been poisoned. In all honestly he just looked a little zoned out, like the time Merlin had lied about the concussion, except it was clearly lasting longer this time.

Merlin frowns but tries his best to keep the panic at bay, it had only been a few minutes now, but other than breathing Arthur hadn’t moved an inch.

The servant takes a deep, relaxing breath, or at least what he hoped would be a relaxing breath. It’s not. He uses magic to slide Arthur’s chair away from the desk slightly, and moves into the space it leaves, shuffling all of the paperwork away and leaning on the edge. Once again, he puts one hand on Arthur’s shoulder, and takes his hand with the other, squeezing slightly.

He waits.

After another ten minutes or so, Arthur’s breathing gets slightly more frantic, and he begins squeezing Merlin’s hand back. Merlin moves closer, crouching in between Arthur’s legs and shaking his shoulder again, but he stops when Arthur begins muttering:

“Didn’t... I... I’m sorry. Not my.... didn’t... didn’t mean to... sorry... disappointment...”

Merlin’s frown deepens at the barely audible whispers, especially when he notices the tears gathering in Arthur’s eyes. He shakes his shoulder again and forces himself to speak, just about managing to keep the waiver from his voice:

“Arthur, there’s no one else here, it’s just you and me, it’s just us, just Arthur and Merlin. It’s the evening in late Autumn, it’s almost time for bed, you sparred with Percival this morning and had a long, annoying council meeting this afternoon. You’re sat at your desk in your chambers with me, no one else.”

Arthur’s eyes come into focus, slowly at first and then all at once. He blinks and stands suddenly, almost tipping his chair backwards in his haste as he reaches a hand to his sword-less hip. Merlin moves back quickly, grimacing as he bumps harshly into the desk. Arthur’s gaze whips around the room desperately, as if searching for a danger that he was certain was there, before his eyes finally land on Merlin. The servant holds his hands out placatingly, not relaxing even as Arthur takes a deep breath and seems to calm down.

The King slumps back in his seat, rubbing the tears from his eyes with shaking hands; Merlin crouches down again, but doesn’t dare touch him, not quite yet:

“Arthur?”

His head whips up, but he relaxes again when he sees Merlin sat in front of him:

“Yes, sorry, I... must of dozed off or something.”

Merlin frowns, but nods one, speaking slowly, his tone low and even:

“Hmm. Must’ve, you looked like you were having a nightmare or something so I woke you. Time for bed, I think.”

For once, Arthur actually agrees with him, not bothering to argue like normal as he stands on shaking legs and heads to where Merlin has neatly laid his sleeping clothes on the bed. Merlin’s concerned gaze follows him, but he doesn’t move too far from the desk, deciding that he and Gaius definitely need to have a chat about... whatever the hell that was.

Half a candle mark later, Arthur is quietly wishing his manservant a good night and dismissing him. He was obviously distracted, Merlin normally can’t be frowning for more than thirty seconds before The King is hounding him about what’s wrong, but thirty minutes pass with not a question from Arthur, and Merlin makes his way to the Physician’s Chambers hoping that Gaius is still awake.

Thankfully, the elderly physician is still pottering around, tidying away various bits and pieces and generally preparing the room for a new day tomorrow. He immediately notices Merlin’s peculiar mood and gestures for the younger man to sit opposite him at the table:

“What’s bothering you, my boy?”

Merlin sits slowly, biting his lip and trying to decide just how honest to be:

“What does it mean if someone... zones out, completely, for extended periods of time?”

Gaius raises an eyebrow:

“I’m going to need a little more than that, Merlin.”

Merlin huffs but nods, shuffling in his seat slightly but responding:

“I was with someone earlier today. We were just chatting whilst we worked and suddenly they just... weren’t there anymore. Stiff, eyes glazed over, ragged breathing. They responded slightly to pain but it didn’t snap them out of it and they just... sat there, utterly blankly, for about twenty minutes. Eventually they started muttering to themselves, but it didn’t make any sense, then they... woke up, I guess, and thought they had fallen asleep. They definitely weren’t asleep, but they weren’t... I don’t know, conscious?”

Gaius frowns but nods, clutching his hands tightly on the table as he explains, his voice grave:

“Hmm. Sounds like an extended disassociation episode. I gather that I’m not to be told who this was?-”

Merlin shakes his head slightly, and though he looks slightly annoyed, Gaius nods and continues:

“-This happens mostly to people who experience something extremely traumatic, though it also happens in victims of extended abuse, especially if the abuse was in childhood, the younger the victim, the worse the reaction. Occasionally it can happen randomly, though it’s mostly triggered by something in their surrounding environment.”

Merlin’s frown deepens, and Gaius would easily hazard a guess at saying he looks angry. He doesn’t point it out though, just waits for his ward to continue:

“What can trigger it? And what other symptoms will child abuse victims display?”

Gaius takes another deep breath, but slowly responds:

“Anything can be a trigger really, something they see or smell or hear, something someone else does or says.-”

(”This is what it means to be King, Arthur,-” pops into Merlin’s head.)

“-As for other symptoms, aversion to touch, occasionally fear of being alone, OR fear of being in another’s presence. Some experience trouble with regulating strong emotions, difficulty in regulating long term relationships, platonic or otherwise, trouble with self-esteem. It varies from person to person, there is no strict list of obvious signs. Might I ask... why?”

Merlin shakes his head and stands, moving towards his bedroom with clenched hands and tight shoulders. Just before he shuts the door behind him, he turns to look at Gaius over his shoulder, brow furrowed and voice low:

“What... what was Uther like? When Arthur was a child?”

Gaius closes his eyes briefly, letting out a weary sigh and trying his best to hold in his grief:

“Strict, extremely difficult to please. He never... he never hit Arthur, not in public anyway, though it wouldn’t surprise me if he was violent privately. As a child, The Prince was terrified of the dark, and the dungeons. I got the impression that Uther forced him down there on more than one occasion. Arthur is... the one your concerned about?”

Gaius knows the answer, but it doesn’t stop the tears from welling in his eyes when Merlin wordlessly nods before shutting the door behind him.

+1)

A few weeks have passed since Merlin had figured it all out.

He didn’t dare bring it up to Arthur, and shuts the conversation down any time Gaius mentions it. The conversation is for Arthur, and Arthur only, and Merlin wasn’t going to force it.

Besides, they’ve been extremely busy with the transitions; The Kingdom was going from anti-magic to pro-magic, and Merlin was going from servant to a member of court. Arthur had tried to force nobility onto him as well as his position as Court Sorcerer, but Merlin had put his foot down at that, insisting that he wouldn’t become some stuck up wealthy arsehole, not even if his life was on the line.

Gwaine, Elyan, Percival, Gwen, and Morgana had grinned at that, Arthur and Lancelot rolled their eyes, Mordred continued to insist on calling him “My Lord” anyway, and Leon had looked marginally affronted as he mumbled something along the lines of “I’m a Lord you know, technically.”.

They aren’t lucky this time around, and it all comes to an explosive head in a quiet, though still habited corridor in the middle of the afternoon.

Afterwards, Merlin absent-mindedly considers the fact that they could’ve been in the courtyard or the throne room or somewhere equally busy, and thanks the Gods for just this little bit of luck; only two servants, one guard, and the... the noble and his son were in the corridor at the time.

Arthur and Merlin are making their way to the council room, preparing themselves for a busy meeting: it was the first since magic was officially legalised, and the first that Merlin (and Gwen, though that was another matter entirely) would officially be sitting in on. Though, in all honesty, pretty much the whole Kingdom knew that Merlin had been advising Arthur privately for years.

Merlin frowns and Arthur stiffens slightly as they spot the noble gripping his young son’s collar and aggressively whispering at him. The boy can’t be more than ten summers old, but the tears in his eyes display his utter terror clearly enough; no child should ever have to be that scared, especially not of their parents. Merlin resigns himself to just magicking the pig’s trousers down when no one was looking his way, but barely a second after he makes that decision the man raises his hand, and slaps the boy across the face.

Everyone in the corridor freezes as the boy cries out, and the noble doesn’t seem to notice the way the guard looks frantically between him and The King, waiting for instruction, or the way the servants and Merlin were staring, horrified. Arthur breaks out of his shocked stupor first, striding towards him with his fist already raised and his eyes blazing:

“How fucking DARE you?!”

His knuckles make violent contact with the man’s mouth, and the spray of blood from a busted lip and loosened teeth is what spurs Merlin into action. He runs forward, scooping the distraught boy up in his arms and quickly handing him over to one of the servants:

“Take him to Gaius, swear that you will not utter a word of this to anyone bar the Court Physician?”

His eyes flash golden as the servants’ both nod, and they rush off in the direction of the Physician’s chambers. Merlin, satisfied that they will be unable to break their promise, turns next to the guard, momentarily ignoring the way Arthur has shoved the bleeding noble against the stone wall:

“Fetch the Lady Morgana and Guinevere and tell them to go to Gaius and the boy, stay with them, swear that you will inform no one bar those three what has happened?”

The guard nods, understanding the magic implicitly as Merlin’s eyes flash gold again. He spares The King and his deserving victim one last glance before running towards Morgana’s chambers.

Merlin turns, finally, to Arthur, almost-but-not-quite recoiling at the tears on his cheeks as he lands another punch to the noble’s jaw. His face is black and blue at this point, and Merlin pulls Arthur back just as he raises his fist again; he thrashes in his grip, but quickly sags as his breathing deepens. The noble falls to the floor, unconscious in all likelihood, and Merlin clicks his fingers, banishing him to the dungeons with nothing but a shower of golden sparks.

Arthur breathes deeply, leaning all of his weight on Merlin as he clamps his un-bruised hand over his mouth, his wide eyes staring intensely at where the boy had been stood moments before. He doesn’t respond to Merlin’s calls, and with another flash of gold, they disappear, reappearing in Arthur’s bed chamber.

Merlin shoots Mordred a quick message over their mental link as he lowers Arthur to the floor, leaning him against the edge of the bed and moving around to be crouched in front of him. The King’s breathing has gotten dangerously deep and dangerously fast, the tears streaming down his face as his hands clench and unclench around nothing. Merlin quickly intertwines their fingers in an effort to stop Arthur hurting himself, but that just freaks the other man out even more as he desperately scrambles to get away from the contact.

Merlin lets go and moves back, eyes wide and desperate as he watches Arthur bring his knees up to his chest, burying his head in his arms and rocking slightly. His cries are muffled, but Merlin can still hear the heart wrenching sound; the Warlock takes a moment to breath before he stealthily moves around the room, lighting candles, locking the door, and shutting the curtains (bar an inch), before moving back to sit beside Arthur, a foot or so of space between them.

After a few minutes of no change, Merlin starts humming. He can’t remember any of the words, but it’s an old lullaby his mum used to sing when he couldn’t sleep, when he was scared of his own magic and his own friends and every shadow that moved in the dark. Arthur’s breathing slows, though he still hiccups occasionally, and Merlin rests his hand on the stone floor between them: an offer, not a demand.

Arthur doesn’t take it, instead shuffling over to lean his head on Merlin’s shoulder. Merlin freezes, not daring to put his arm around the other man as he continues to hum; he must’ve circled back and restarted the same song six, seven, eight times before Arthur nuzzles in further and sniffs before muttering:

“You’ve a good voice, Merlin.”

Merlin huffs a gentle laugh, leaning his head on top of Arthur’s softly as he quietly replies:

“Runs in the family, my mother used to sing to me, though I don’t really know any other tunes I’m afraid.”

Arthur nods, but doesn’t reply, turning into Merlin’s chest slightly as the Warlock hesitatingly wraps his arms around the other man; he stops being so hesitant when he notices Arthur’s eagerness. Merlin pulls him close, sighing but letting Arthur settle in before he says anything. In the back of his mind, he’s aware of the pain shooting up his spine at being sat on the stone floor for so long, but he decides he doesn’t really care, if this is what Arthur needs.

After a few more minutes, he rubs his cheek into Arthur’s soft hair and speaks, his voice gentle and loving:

“Feeling better?”

Arthur stiffens slightly, but quickly relaxes, nodding into Merlin’s chest and mumbling:

“The boy?”

Merlin smiles at Arthur’s worry:

“Safe. He’s with Gaius, Morgana, and Gwen, under protective guard.”

Arthur nods again, tightening his hold on Merlin’s tunic:

“And his... father?”

“Bloodied up and locked in the dungeons, far away from his son. Mordred let the guards know that he is not to leave under any circumstances, told the council that the meeting had been postponed until further notice, and then went to relieve the guard in the Physician’s chambers.”

The King relaxes, and so does Merlin, though only slightly, he knows that this is where that terrifying conversation has opportunity to rear it’s ugly head:

“Arthur, are we going to talk about this?-”

He rushes to carry on when Arthur’s breath hitches and his hands pull on Merlin’s tunic slightly:

“-You can say no, Arthur. I swear, I will never, ever ask, not if you don’t want me to.”

Arthur doesn’t relax, but he shakes his head, gulping before replying, his voice thick:

“No, it’s fine, I should probably... talk about it, right? Morgana is always on my arse about being less repressed or whatever.-”

Merlin nods, but doesn’t say anything, stroking his fingers through Arthur’s hair rhythmically. Arthur lets out a deep breath, humming contentedly at the gesture and leaning even more into it:

“-My father was... difficult to please. His default was anger, no matter what, and it was... rare, for him to be anything but furious. He never... not in public, and never left marks where anyone could see.-”

Merlin struggles against the urge to hit someone (preferably Uther, though unfortunately he was dead. He supposes Uther’s old supporters would do in a pinch), but he makes do with taking a deep breath:

“-When he was especially furious he would lock me in a storage closet, or the dungeons. He... he would order that all the lights be put out, and all the windows covered, so I couldn’t see. Merlin I couldn’t see anything. I still... I can’t stand the dark, but I’m guess you figured that out?-”

Merlin knows that he’s referring to the candles and the perpetually open curtains and nods, humming in agreement:

“-How pathetic is that? A grown man, a King, afraid of the dark.”

Merlin tightens his grip on Arthur and shakes his head:

“It’s not pathetic, Arthur. It’s an automatic response, a defence mechanism that your brain puts in place to try and protect you from being re-traumatised. To this day, I’m terrified of fire, even though I have no reason to be anymore, even though it can’t hurt me as a Dragon Lord.”

Arthur gulps, but relaxes slightly, though his voice is quiet, almost ashamed as he continues:

“I can’t look at Lancelot’s turned back, I struggle to spar with him as well. He... he doesn’t even look anything like my father, he just... he always wears red and has the same hair as my father when he was younger and they’re the same height. Sometimes I feel like I’m a child again, everything around me just disappears and I’m back in that dungeon, or my father is stood over me screaming. How am I meant to be a good King when I’m scared of my own shadow?”

Merlin sighs, staying silent for a few minutes as he attempts to put an answer together in his mind. Arthur sniffles again, and Merlin is suddenly made aware of the wet patch where Arthur’s head rests on his tunic:

“I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, as many times as you want: you are a wonderful King. You’ve delivered a Golden Age upon this Kingdom, your friends love you, your people adore you. You’ve never just been a good King, Arthur, you’ve been the best this Kingdom, and this world, has ever seen.”

Arthur loosens his grip again but huffs a quiet laugh against Merlin’s chest, which the Warlock definitely counts as a win:

“Kiss-ass.”

Merlin laughs this time, though he doesn’t stop carding his fingers through Arthur’s hair:

“Nah, when have you ever known me to kiss ass? I speak only the truth, My Lord.”

They both fall silent again, and Arthur pulls away from Merlin’s chest. Merlin drops his arms immediately, not wanting to make the other man uncomfortable, but Arthur just takes one of his hands and goes back to sitting by his side, his head resting on Merlin’s shoulder. The silence is long, but comfortable, and it’s dark outside by the time Arthur speaks again:

“Merlin?-”

The Warlock doesn’t make a sound, but squeezes Arthur’s hand in acknowledgement:

“-I thanked you for all the big stuff: saving my life, and saving the Kingdom, and all that. But I never thanked you for the small stuff. The candles and the endless support and the excuses.”

Merlin frowns slightly in confusion, not that Arthur can see:

“Excuses?”

“You didn’t think I didn’t notice, did you? You started years and years ago. You always seemed to notice when being with... with my father, or the knights, or anyone really, was getting too much, you always had some excuse ready. Sometimes you outright lied, even if it would get you in trouble, just to get me away from people. I don’t know how you knew... no one else ever realised. Saying I had paperwork when I didn’t, or a patrol when I wasn’t scheduled for one, or a concussion just to give me some privacy. Thank you.”

Merlin smiles slightly, squeezing Arthur’s hand again:

“You were too busy looking after everyone else, someone had to look after you. I’m grateful it was me, Arthur, I-”

He pauses and sits up slightly straighter, though it doesn’t jostle Arthur too much. He lifts his head anyway, staring at Merlin in concern with tired eyes:

“Merlin?”

Merlin looks to him suddenly, but smiles:

“Hmm, sorry, just Mordred. Updating me on the kid and asking if you’re alright.-”

Arthur’s cheeks flush slightly, but Merlin’s smile grows as he shakes his head:

“-Don’t worry, no one knows about... this, just that you went berserk when you saw a Noble beating his kid, and punched his teeth out.”

Arthur relaxes and nods, humming thoughtfully as he looks to the floor. He stands up, wobbling only slightly after being curled up in the same position on a cold stone floor for several hours, and Merlin follows him confusedly:

“Do... do you want to go check in on them? The kid’s been asking after you apparently, wants to thank you.-”

Arthur looks conflicted, almost as if he were worrying that he wouldn’t actually be welcomed, so Merlin puts a hand on his shoulder and smiles, waiting until Arthur looks at him before continuing:

“-We can leave it until morning, if you like, but you saved that boy, Arthur, there’s nothing to worry about.”

Arthur nods, but doesn’t move until Merlin wipes his face clean with his sleeve and smooths out his clothes. If he uses a little magic to make the two of them more presentable, then neither of them mention it as they walk purposefully to the door.

Merlin looks to Arthur stood next to him, his hand hovering over the door handle:

“Ready?”

Arthur smiles at him, taking his hand and squeezing it, but not dropping it as he opens the door and steps into the corridor:

“Ready.”

THE END!!!

As angsty as it was, I really enjoyed writing that😅. I couldn’t help myself though, I had to give it a happy ending :D

I hope y’all enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it!! I love y’all!!

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