#and him craddling arthur's head

[love4annie]

Four times a mother.

John Shelby x Martha OC

Martha's slightly wide eyes stared at the paper in her hand, orbs filled with worry as she reread the letter. Her calm voice should've surprised her, as she ordered her oldest daughter to stay home and watch over her brothers, but it didn't. After all, she often had this kind of unbreakable composure near her children. She left her house, rushing towards the Garison where she knew her husband was.

Her mind raced along with her, apprehension and ration battling in her thoughts, one reminding of the alarming future and the other recalling the many times she had handled situations like this.

"You mother..she passed.."

"My dear, what happened?"

"Oh, John, help me forget!"

"Pray. Pray, my girl."

"I'm tired.."

Words. Words brawled in her head, hers and others', dictating over the hidden realm of her consciousness that was quickly becoming more unbearable. Younger, she would've claimed this was a lot less than it seemed to be. Older, she admitted that it was a lot more than what a sixteen years old should be dealing with. But then, right then, she knew no past beliefs, nor was she sure that she would live to see the next day.

All she needed was John.

Her legs led her when her senses couldn't, and she soon found herself stumbling over Polly's door. The woman opened it, face wrinkling even more when she saw the poor girl's miserable air, calling for who she could only guess. Martha mumbled her lover's name under her breath, and he soon made his appearence, immediatly craddling her into his arms with reassurances she couldn't hear. His name escaped her lips once more, unheard, but John felt it and hugged her even closer.

Her following statement made him pause, probably along with everyone else in the room, for a second. But a charming smile tugged on his face, and he looked behind the couch, where Pol was previously standing. Truth was, their family had already discussed that subject for the longest time, and then was simply the ideal opportunity. He rubbed soothing circles in her back. She also felt the comforting palm of Arthur over her shoulder and Tommy's concerned blues flickering from her to the toddler over his knee. Ada sat beside her, interwining their fingers, for once looking older than her actually older friend. John's clear gems stared into her stormy pair, and his heart broke, it shattered for her. But there, then, she was in his hold. She wasn't alone in that gloomy house of hers, grieving her mother on her own and occasionally visiting them when the empty echoes of her memories in the hallways became too insufferable. She wasn't alone that gloomy house, as he peeked from the windows, attempting to check on her without disturbing her agitated peace, and he wasn't worrying over her safety when she was too loud or too quiet. She was in his hold, and he could protect and provide her. He would, undoubtfully would. Swift footsteps clicked more than they usually would have, sound more prominent in the mute exchange between most presents. She discreetly handed John a mystery item, and the boy gently removed Martha from his grasp as he fell on one knee, loving gaze set upon her and a hopeful grin mastered to encourage his one and only.

-"Will you marry me?"

She finally saw the church, a place where she sought comfort when life became too much. Her remembrance was again triggered by the mere image of this very familiar building.

-"May we leave now, my dear?", John complained about his wife staying longer than the preaching lesson's time, though he understood that she was attached to the wooden benches and revebrating sounds in early Sunday hours, despite not being much of a religious woman herself, having comitted her fair share of sins, though she was everything but mistaken in anything she had to do, to him. He understood that those visits were a habit, one her mother had installed in her since innocence, and while he had the unpredicable events of life to blame for making both of them drift just a bit from what they used to be and do; the illegal business the Shelby brothers had debuted and the dozing baby girl on his lap; he knew that events were also what brought them back there.

-"I am praying for us, John." She replied, not quite the answer he awaited. Her vision was unfocused, but it held more reverence than he could ever perform. She had always been more spiritual than him, more perceiving of herself than he ever was. More sentimental, more thoughtful, she claimed there was a certain depth in things he couldn't entirely decipher.

-"Don't you always do that?" He had to admit, he was longing for a morning in with his girls, a rest he desired for himself after a long week, but even more for his wife. He knew that taking care of a nearly one year old, along with helping with the numbers, relentlessly worrying over his late shifts, and the newfound talent she had for patching him up when Polly was too busy with a doubly bloodied Arthur, was draining her more than she let on. He might've been the one facing the danger of the minor criminal affairs the family had started, but she was lifting most of the emotional burden, as she assumed her duty as the stability of their small household.

-"I am praying for our child." She said, then murmured something. Not to him, not to herself. She listened to every movement he did, every response he formulated, but she yet had to look at him.

She did, when he asked his next question.

-"Isn't she here, safe and sound and healthy?"

He frowned at his wife's quivering stature, but he soon showed a happy grin at her announcement.

-"I am praying for our second, John."

Somewhere in her haze, her pace had quickened, throat already dry and muscles throbbing from the sudden extreme activity of sprinting from one edge of Watery Lane to the other. The Garrison just a corner away, and she evoked one more crucial moment of her existance.

In the dim lights of her bedroom lantern, sat a single mother of two, widowed but not so, husband taken by the war, juggled between death and life as he hid in holes in the frontlines and soiled his hands with crimson dirt. Her children slumbered soundly in her bed, crying themselves to sleep for weeks after their father's departure and she promised herself every night that they would soon adapt with his abscense. They were old enough to notice him missing in the late evening when he used to gladly indulge in their youthful fun, but still too young to fully comprehend the cause. Though, in that night precisely, she needed him even more than they did. So, sitting in front of her vanity table, fingers wrapped around a pen, she wrote. She wrote her struggle, wrote her worry, but assured him that she was carrying on, would be until his return and as long as he needed her to after that. She wrote and her thoughts fell into the dark ink, free from her grip, news that could weight him more than what was already on his shoulders. Then, when the ink grew dry, she wrote with her tears, for she knew he could very much be reading it with his blood. She clutched to the paper, seeking the solace John brought her in the immobile object, his alluring beams and alleviating touches.

It did reach John, while he sat moments away from their next violent warfare, and he feared it was tainted with filth after all the transportation, though he melted in a wave of calm as soon as he gently ripped it open, a smell of home hitting him harder than bullets. It was short truce, getting to imagine her voice along the perfectly picked words and neat handwriting. His brothers watched as joy traced his features for the first time in the two months of combat, before he revealed that yet another Shelby was to come.

The chants of men didn't falter as she entered the pub, but those who saw her distressed expression made her a path toward her husband, and she scurried into his embrace.

-"The doctor..the letter.." She tried to tell him despite her panting from all the hurry.

-"The hell is happening, John?" Arthur called behind her, ready to beat up whatever bastard bothering his sister-in-law. He had always seen her as a sister, even before she was married into their family, her and Ada cherished by his heart that softened remarkably around them, and inevitably, a feeling of protectiveness bloomed within it toward her.

John didn't answer him, instead thinking about what she said, until it clicked, and that beautiful smile of his shone again. Thomas' hawk eyes caught on it, and he discreetly relaxed.

-"John, I...i drank a beer..and you're just back and.."

-"And we would welcome it like the blessing it is." He locked eyes with her, and she drunk in the love they emitted, as they released her from the confines of her pondering into a warmth only he could grant her, tapping her on the back to face the boys.

-"Tell 'em, my dear."

She hesitated, studying the anger and concern Arthur casted, the sudden near-stillness state of the entire room, and spoke at Tommy's supportive nod.

-"I'm..pregnant."

And the place roared with yells and congratulations, until John spoke again, making it blow with even more excitement.

-"All drinks tonight are on me!"

#john shelby x oc #john shelby #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinders #shelby family #john shelby x reader #arthur shelby

[sorceress-queen]

Arthur x Morgana [ArMor]

Morgana & Arthur sleep in the same bed platonically until they don't. 😉 Surprisingly this doesn't contain smut. It's mostly fluff with hurt & comfort + silent love confessions.

They start sleeping together after Arthur almost dies, to be more specific it happens after the incident of Morgana running down the stairs in her nightgown, begging for him not to go and he sends her back to bed.

He is the one who comes to her chambers most of the time. They don't touch until she wakes up, crying and screaming and then he instantly wraps her in his arms while murmuring sweet nothings in her ear that seem to help her calm down sooner.

Sometimes she shares what she sees and other times she remains eerly quiet about it; he prefers it when Morgana talks to him, no matter how little sense her dreams make to him.

And then eventually she starts to move closer to him on the bed until their hands, their arms are touching even before she inevitably wakes up. And then he finds himself seeking out to touch her before she wakes up as well, his arm finding its way over her waist, on the lower side of her back, her hand moving to rest against his chest, her head against his shoulder; this is the position they fall asleep in most often.

And then one night when Morgana somehow manages to fall asleep completely on top of him, something changes for him; feeling her chest rise and fall, her breathing tickling the crook of his neck, having to gently move her hair out of his mouth and away from his eyes. Arthur realises that he has fallen in love with her, that he can't imagine sleeping in any other way but with her there with him, even if it means that he can't sleep through some nights due to her nightmares.

Not that he even minds waking up in the middle of the night anymore (he did at the start, having been used to sleeping till morning without any disturbance), not when he gets to be there to comfort her, that Morgana lets him draw her into his arms and be protective while she is so vulnerable.

Morgana realises that she has fallen in love with him way before he does, for her it happened on the first night they slept together when after being woken up by her, his first reaction was to craddle her in his arms after checking if she was physically hurt. And then she would start to get closer to him while they were in bed, aching to feel just a little bit of his touch and the comfort it brings her; foolishly at first she believed that their arms brushing would be enough and then that started to evolve into something else, something so much more.

Despite Morgana's realisation coming earlier than his own, he is the first one to say 'I love you' but it gets lost in the moment and is drawn out by her sobs and his mouth being pressed against the top of her head as he covers it and her face in soft little kisses.

Arthur is a heavy sleeper (although he seems to have developped a second sense when it comes to her waking up due to a nightmare) and Morgana knows this, so she first says 'I love you' when she can feel his breathing even beneath her hand, her lips drawing the words against his neck.

#arthur x morgana #ArMor #morgana x arthur #the lady and the champion #//I might continue this one but idk #//I am open to ideas #//until then enjoy

[manyprofoundbonds]

#merthuredit #merlinedit #bbcmerlinedit #mr-merlinedit #merthur #bbc merlin #*edits #otp: thank you #i just really love the fact that merlin was #CRADDLING ARTHUR'S HEAD #gosh give me more merlin taking care of sick!arthur please #and him craddling arthur's head #and caressing his face #and just being really tender??? #and soft and domestic??? #it would also be nice to see arthur take care of sick!merlin too #all worried

[troublesometrollhunters]

Yandere GreenKnight

~ Arthur has lost everything. His Kingdom, His Subjects, His friends, Morgana, and Guienvere. So much has been taken from him after he sacrificed everything to protect what he loves. He cannot loose you. He refuses to loose you after all he's been through.

~ After the battle of Killahead he wakes up confused. Something in him feels off... Something is lost. When the Order greets him he remembers you and demands to know where you are before he agrees to anything. They promise your alive and well and when this war is won he will see his beloved again. He can't have Guienvere but he can have you.

~ Something is missing and he doesn't know what. He has seen himself without his armor on and he hates how he looks now so he hides under his mask. Guilt, shame, remorse, and anger keep him awake at night as he follows the Order obeying their commands. If he just follows them a little longer he will have you. You must be what he's missing. You must be what can fix him.

~ While working under the Order he learns something he never could have expected. Magic flows through you as ancient and old as the Order itself but your unable to use it, it simply lays within you dormant. Merlin knew but never said anything. His most trusted advisor never told him anything. For weeks Arthur goes into a rage and the Order does not disturb him as he screams into the night tearing down trees and destroying acres of randim land.

~ When he comes out of his haze the Order inform him you and Merlins champion have been found and soon they'll all have what he desired. Alone one night staring at the broken Excalibur hes thinking of you and how it'll feel to hold you in his arms again. He never realised how much time had past since waking up but now he knows its been centuries. You've been alive and alone and probably confused for Centuries. You need him and he needs you.

~ You survived the Fall of Camelot despite not having access to you powers and since then you have been living your life as an immortal being. You never get sick and you haven't aged, you've simply been moving from place to place avoiding suspicion. The Order have found statues, portraits, pictutes, and article's of you spread over the centuries. Using your poorly hidden past to track you now. Arthur treasures these things in his room, no one else would look for it, look for your face repeated over and over but he would. Surrounding himself by your visage calms him and he hopes when he takes you home you will appreciate all he has done.

~ You settled in America a few hundred years ago before moving to Arcadia about the time Merlins new champion was picked and now you stand with him and the other Trollhunters.

~ Arthur feels overwhelming joy knowing you'll be found soon but blistering fury knowing you side with those against him. He believes your brainwashed or being tricked or manuiplated and makes it his life's mission to hurt the Trollhunter and show you how wrong you've been. Merlin was a fool and Arthur never should have allowed him or his magic to infect his people and his family.

~ King Arthur may not be the man he once was but he is still a warrior as well as a ruler. He may not have his kingdom but someday with you he will rebuild it. He has lived a long life and he has suffered through countless tradegies. He's only more intelligent and stronger than when you met last. When the time comes he will take you and there will be nothing you can do to stop him. With the Order on his side Arthur wants the world to burn so he may rise from the ashes with you.

~ He is deluded having gone completely insane from the corrupted resurrection and the Orders influence. He only has his anger and you to drive him and these goals have driven him to madness. Arthur loves you he does but he no longer knows what love is. He promised once he has you he will keep you safe from the world and you will rule when it restarts but he does not understand the horror of his words or the complete control he wants over you. Times have changed, you have changed. And so has Arthur, but not for the better.

~ When he first sees you again he is enamored. You are still as firey and beautiful as you once were but your also different. Years of being alone have changed you. They've made you become a better person, and now you are who you are, and Arthur was not there to witness it. He doesn't know you anymore but he thinks he does.

~ He boils in rage watching you fight with Merlins champion against his magically created allies. It was the child who took you away. The amulet in all it's forsaken glory! Merlin had made the Hunter go after you and now they were psoisoning your mind. He wouldn't have it!!!

~ You fight against the magic minions the Order sent and you are a force to be reckoned with. You may stand with his enemies but when he takes you all will be forgiven. Your simply confused. You've been tricked to fight on the wrong side of the war but he will show you the true way and with him no harm shall ever befall you again.

~ In the heat of battle he steals you away. Merlins champion is busy fighting a different minion and the trolls you've aligned yourselves don't see as he takes you. You may still in his arms and he tenderly cups your cheek, taking off his helmet and mask to steal a kiss.

~ As you sleep in his arms he holds you close not believing your with him. He has plans on what he'll do to Merlin, the boy, and the mage but for now he holds you tightly eyes shut as he presses you to his chest. You are with him. Nothing is wrong. He is whole... even if a tiny voice in his head tells him he's not, craddling you he knows he is.

#toa x reader #wizards x reader #toa king arthur #toa arthur #wizards arthur #wizards king arthur #toa camelot #wizards king arthur x reader #toa king arthur x reader #wizards arthur x reader #toa arthur x reader #yandere toa #yandere wizards #yandere toa x reader #yandere wizards x reader #yandere king arthur #yandere arthur #yandere king arthur x reader #yandere arthur x reader #arthur x reader #toa arcane order #the arcane order

[strawberrypancakesalltheway]

Asphodel

Pairing: Leonardo x MC/Reader

Warning: Some spoiler for Leonardo route, some angst, injury, mention of blood, death.

Asphodel

In flower language means "my regrets follow you into the grave"

This time is different. Leonardo sure is a man of many trade, the man that embody eternity itself, however, no centuries even millenia can prepare him when finally he succumb to the depth of regret and despair. He learns, he taught himself to put some distance in fear of losing someone or something. Even someone that he loves.

She asked him, once, in the past for a chance to turn her to be like him, to be at his side for eternity. She was willing to risk everything for him, even her life in future. But he is afraid. To turn her to be a monster like him, she is to pure for existing in the world where sun no longer comforting. She belong to a world where she can shine bright under the sun, enjoying the time just like everyone else. Not in his world where time stops and everything blur into nothingness.

But he was wrong.

***

He noticed something is off in the mansion. Your laugh and voice that used to echo the hall of this mansion no longer heard. And suddenly Theo and Arthur start to tell him about this kidnapping cases that happen in the town. He knows that you were visiting the town with Sebastian, so at leasy you are not alone and Sebastian is someone he can count on to keep you safe. But his fear start to increase when you and Sebastian havent returned to the mansion despite it being way past dinner time, which is odd.

After deciding to look out for you and Sebastian, Leonardo ask for some of mansion resident to report to the police and the other to stay at the mansion in case you were returned. He and Comte decided to search for you at the theater district, where Arthur said that it was the place where the kidnapping happened.

He and Comte rushed to the district. Something is not right and he can feel it. He can feel how his stomach drop and the fear of the worse scenario starts to gut his sanity. He also notice unfamiliar feeling which is fear. A feeling he wasn't familiar with due to gis nature as pureblood. But this time, its the only thing that he can feel.

They arrived at a closed theater, where the distinct smell of Sebastian blood coming from. "Please be safe, both of you" he muttered, hoping for any kind of God to listen to him. As they went inside, there is a man standing over behind you and Sebastian. Leonardo noticed how your wrist are bounded to your back, kneeling, a quick sign of relief appear on your face. He noticed that Sebastian also have his wrist bounded and some blood dripping from his swollen lips and from his head, trickling down to his neck and shirt.

The kidnapper start to smile, a wicked one. He start to swing his gun to taunt him and Comte.

"Finally the main protagonist arrived. Now we can start the play, what do you think? I'm really happy to find this pretty girl, to join my play, oh and perhaps later for my experiment".

The man laughed, Leonardo and Comte know that both of the cant act recklessly, if the gun went off, it could easily hurt you or Sebastian even with their super fast ability to move it still risky.

"Come, come!!! Join my play! Will you be able to save this pretty damsel in distress if I shot her head, hmm? Or should I shot the gentlemen first?"

The man rise his gun to Sebastian, preparing to shoot him. Comte and Leonardo rushed to the man, using their ability as vampire, running to both of them, to get them to the safety. But it was too late. The gun went off, and without him knowing, you were jump to protect Sebastian from the bullet, and then hitting the floor. And for a moment, no one moved, either too scared or shocked from your action, as if the time has temporarily stopped.

You were lying still, blood starts to pool on the floor, and suddenly the time moved again. Comte tackle the man and immediately killing him. Leonardo went to your side, pressing his hands on your chest, a pitiful act to somehow stop your bleeding. He knew, he knew that you didnt have much time left, but he can't bring himself to turn you, to someone like him, to be a vampire, for it was a curse.

"Leonardo, what are you doing?? You need to save her. Turn her before its too late!!"

"No I can't... I couldn't"

"Please Leonardo, dont do this to yourself. Both of you decide to be happy. Please turn her or I will"

Leonardo craddle you to his arm. He started to doubt on himself, he loves you so much but he cant bring himself to turn you. He knows he's going to missed you, but he cant live with himself knowing that he condem you to this cursed existence. And before he know it, you take your last breath, at his arms.

***

"Hello, cara mia. I brought you a fresh flower again"

He put a bouquet of Aspodhel and Lily, and put in in front of her grave. He knows very well what those flowers means and maybe somehow you would knew how much he regretted not being able to save you, his Cara Mia, because he was a coward and a selfish man. He should knew better that you loved him and willing to stay with him.

"I can't stop thinking about you, Cara Mia"

He stare at the grave stone. An inscription of your name, a name he learn to love, a name that reminds him of your warm hugs and soft kisses. A woman he love, for the rest of eternity.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Cara mia"

He taught that he could live with the regret not having you by his side. But he was wrong, and no matter how much he begs to the universe for you to come back, for time to rewind so that he can safe you, you wont comeback. If his existence before you just a plain blurry and longing life, now he feel like its living hell.

And there is nothing he can do but to regret it for the rest of his immortal life

**************************************************************

A/N : sorry for any grammar or spelling mistake. Its currently 1.30 am and I just need to get this out of my head.

#ikemen vampire #ikemen vampire leonardo #ikevamp #ikevam #leonardo da vinci #ikemen leonardo #cybird #ikevamp comte #comte de saint germain #ikevamp sebastian #ikevamp arthur #flower language #ikemen series #ikesen fanfic #fanfic #angst #leonardo x mc #ikevamp napoleon #ikevamp vincent #ikevamp theo #ikevamp mozart #ikevamp isaac #ikevamp dazai

[arthurmorganismaboah]

*I had two similar requests so decided to put them in one. * Head canons for Arthur, John, Javier and Kieran- drunk S/O and how the cowboahs would act/react

(No gifs are my own)

Kieran Duffy;

o   He would laugh with you, but worry about you hurting yourself

o   He would try to get you in bed, but you would always run off laughing

o   He would catch up with you and smother your sweet face in so many kisses

o   To which would make you blush

o   He would watch you in awe as you swayed to music and slapped your knee as an instrument

o   When you start to stumble, he would be there

o   He’d rather he fall on the cold, hard floor around camp and you land on him  

o   By the end of the night you would be extremely wasted

o   And extremely needy

o   Constantly wrapping your arms around his neck

o   Kissing him

o   Telling him how much he means to you

o   Even though you’re drunk, he knows it’s the truth

o   You would keep trying to drink more but he would step in and say you’ve had enough

o   He would almost carry you to bed, telling you how wonderful you really are, but you wouldn’t remember it

o   He would remind you in the morning when the sun is too bright for your liking

o   You’d roll into him and ask if you had done anything embarrassing

o   He would always tell the truth and even if you did do something embarrassing, he would love you anyway. 

Javier Escuella;

o   He would always smile as you put on his poncho and tried to play his guitar

o   You would hand him the guitar and he would play a song

o   You’d stand up and dance, his eyes fixed on you and only you

o   You would always ask him to talk to you in Spanish and although you didn’t understand what he was saying, it stirred something in you

o   He would watch you talking to other members of the gang and smile that you were his Amor

o   As the night goes on, he would drink with you

o   Almost ignoring other people in camp as you were both in your own world

o   He would watch how you moved, the way your hair blows in the wing

o   He would be transfixed on you

o   He’d make sure you were okay, watching how much you were drinking

o   Not because he wanted to control you

o   Because he wanted to keep his person safe

o   At the end of the night he would lead you to bed, keeping an arm firmly around your waist

o   Just in case you tripped up

o   He would craddle you

o   Run his fingers through your hair

o   You’d wake up the next morning snuggled into each other

o   Javier’s poncho over the both if you

o   He’d kiss your nose and tell you how much he loves you. 

John Marston;

o   John would be watching you closely

o   You’d take off his hat and put it on your own head

o   He would smile and laugh watching you

o   You’d both sit around camp and listen to old stories about John

o   He’d try to cover your ears and blush with embarrassment

o   As the night went on, he would get both of you more drinks and start to get drunk

o   You would be all over each other, getting a few, “go to bed, both of you!” From several people around camp

o   Except Sean. He would egg you both on

o   John would have his arms around your waist, or shoulders and tell everyone how lucky he was to have you in his life

o   He would watch you dance with the girls whilst he sits next to Hosea, telling him how much he loves you, that he doesn’t deserve you and that he wants to marry you some day

o   If you tipple over, he will be there to pick you up and dust off your knees

o   By the end of the night you would start getting tired and leaning on John’s shoulder. He would kiss your head, his hat missing, you’d yawn, and he’d know it’s time for bed

o   He’d hold you tight and take you to bed

o   You’d fall asleep first, he’d make sure you were okay before he went to sleep

o   You’d spend most of the next day trying to retrace your drunken steps to find the outlaws hat. Whoops. 

Arthur Morgan;

o   He would watch you closely with a bottle in his own hand

o   He would worry and be overprotective till you told him to loosen up a little

o   You’d both get way too drunk, knocking back whiskey after whiskey

o   You’d both act like big children, dancing around the campfire, singing silly songs

o   Even though he would be just as, if not more drunk than you, he would still watch you closely

o   Make sure you’re okay

o   As the night went on you would both be slouched over each other his slurred, “you okay, darlin’?” making you melt

o   He’d watch you drink, dance, talk

o   He’d look to the floor and shake his head smiling

o   He’d feel so lucky that someone as beautiful (inside and out) wanted him

o   People around camp would be somewhat jealous of your relationship

o   Especially Molly and Abigail who would both look at Dutch and John expectantly

o   By the end of the night you would both be completely wasted and almost helping each other back to the tent and into bed

o   You would help Arthur remove his gun belt, but not without head butting him accidentally a few times first

o   Getting a, “sorry!” And a light chuckle from you

o   And a low, painful groan from your poor cowboy

o   You’d cuddle up and fall asleep straight away

o   You’d both wake up to a pounding headache and an angry Miss Grimshaw moaning about the mess you both made.

#headcanon #rdr2 x reader #Javier escuella x reader #john marston x reader #drunk reader #drunk cowboys #cowboahs #kieran duffy x reader

[multistoty]

( ignore if you want. I am having a bit of writing struggles and I have been having medicine reaction. But I’m adding Igraine as a test muse and this is au but I can’t get the thought out of my head. I’m so sorry about the lack of replies and how bad they are as well as leaving you alone in threads your really excited about. Sometimes I hate that like I love your replie but my brain just won’t do it.)

@sonofpendragon

Igraine had forgiven Uther the minute that she’d seen her son. The blonde would always do what she could to protect her child. He was almost as perfect as she could imagine. The examples of herself and her husband hidden in features and mannerisms. Arthur was handsome and had the heart of a lion. Those two things reminded her of what his father was a young boy. Their courtship starting off with necessity. Love had blossomed through. Uther spoke to her as if she hung the sun. The physical attraction pulling more towards soul than anything else. The king could be foolishly brave. Sparring had scared her a bit a few times though the pendragon’s we’re expert swordsman. It stopped being a worry of what to say or think and more treasuring every moment she could. Treasuring how his eyes lit up with passion speaking to the council. Holding close the letters that he’d send her every day when meetings went to hard. The pair held each other’s hearts close enough to crush and they began to trust completely in the steadfastness of the other. Having an heir was what a queen must do. Uther was a good man but harsh were his son was kind. He would speak kindly to her but the fear of the instability of their rule weighed heavily on him. Those bright orbs that her son had shining just as hard. They’d both been forced to grow up to quickly and hold to much. Morgause had allowed the former queen to hug her child. Another treasured moment to hold close. King Arthur Pendragon had turned out okay though she highly doubted that he was privy too much affection. Love blinded people. It could make you overprotective or rude. Uther never wanted to look weak or not be in control. He’d treated his lover that way and would probably have raised his son in that way. With years in the ground to think it through and the cherished moments of pregnancy, there was no blame put on the former King. He acted out of something wrong and it hurt as a stab wound might. But the malice couldn’t tangle with the love that she felt. The child they’d been blessed with. The relief to find out that they were with child made the Queen understand. Should she have been faced with the situation- dying would have been worth it. Magic had begun to twist and turn in ways that she could not fathom. Flesh and bone seeming to return to her spirit as she watched Merlin at work. emrys. Igraine had been warned of what such a man could do. And his destroying of the priestess had started the chain reaction. Before long, her feet hit the cobblestones of the castle ground. Shivers up her spine as she sprinted. Igraine had never been the kind of person to not act in manners. Selflessness was above all else. Yet- she couldn’t help the fear in her chest about this gift being taken away. Magic had allowed her back. It rewrote the wrongs of the past. What would Arthur think? He had seemed heated after he’d learned what his father had done. All the want in her was to hold and craddle the blonde head of her flesh and blood. Would he see her ? Magic had been considered such a horrible thing in Camelot. She held the guilt of all the spilt blood on her hands. Uther had gone mad with jealousy and anger. His grief making him irrational. Seeing Merlin pass made her hands fly to the end of her dress. The bright gold that she usually favored when on Earth. Praying the figure next to him was her son and she wouldn’t have to try to convince the guards to let her take this moment. Tears in her eyes. Words fumbling and almost unable to process in her mouth. “Arthur- King Arthur.” She called. Praying that the same smile that was on her own would show on the boy turned man’s face. “My son.”

[winchestergirl-13]

Say You Won’t Let Go

Prompt: “I met you in the dark/You lit me up/You made me feel as though/I was enough”- Say You Won't Let Go by James Arthur

Pairing: Chuck x Reader

Word Count: 3,935

Warning: fluff, angst?, Chuck messing up, but making it better, more fluff.

A/N: I wrote this for @impalaimagining‘s Sing It Supernatural Challenge. I ended up rewriting this one from a different version that wasn’t going anywhere. I hope you like it; I kinda got carried away with this one.

There have been many things Chuck Shurley was called, but coward was not one of them. Nor would being nervous about getting married of all things, but here he was, standing at the alter, nervous for what felt like the first time in forever...

But lets back this up a bit:

(Y/N) was a young hunter who met a so called prophet of the Lord named Chuck Shurley. Turns out this “prophet” wasn't who he said he was. The two of them had started up a relationship, but when (Y/N) left to go comfort Dean after Sam had jumped into the pit, Chuck vanished. No note, no phone call to explain anything. Just up and left without a word. (Y/N) was beside herself in grief and disbelief. How could he leave her without saying anything? She slowly got over him, pushing him to the back of her mind. Sam came back without his soul, got his soul back, Castiel released the Leviathan, Dean became a demon/Knight of Hell, and now Death was...well dead and now the Darkness, God's sister, was released and running around stealing people's souls. To top it off, God was back in the game. And he was someone (Y/N) had tried to forget for years now. The one and only, Chuck Shurley.

“We should probably talk,” Chuck stated, the small smile on his face falling when he saw (Y/N). She had changed; she looked beautiful as ever, but her eyes had hardened. Dean was trying to figure out what was going on, but Chuck snapped his fingers and the four of them had found themselves in the Bunker again. Sitting down to talk, he tried to explain what had happened, but while Sam and Dean were upset that God left, they were listening to why. But (Y/N) wasn't upset about God leaving, she was upset that her boyfriend Chuck left without a word. She didn't care about anything else right now.

Chuck watched as she left the room after his explanation. His heart ached knowing that he was the reason she was this way. Sam and Dean noticed this as well.

“You might want to talk to her. Apologize or something. She was really broken up after you disappeared,” Dean offered, standing up to go after her; he didn't stick around to hear Chuck say anything on the matter.

“She doesn't want to talk to me. She won't even look at me,” Chuck sighed, resting his head in his hands, “how do I tell her that I left to protect her?”

“All you can do is try. I mean, yeah a note would have made it easier on her, but you have to try. She may not forgive you now, but she just might,” Sam replied before leaving him to think about how to tell her he was sorry.

*Meanwhile*

“How could he leave without saying anything to me?! Why would he hurt me like that?!” (Y/N) sobbed into her pillow, Dean sitting beside her on her bed.

“I don't know. Frankly I'm not too happy with him too, but maybe you could try and listen to him? I know you don't want to talk to him, but it's gonna be a little hard to avoid him if he stays. I'm not saying he is, but he might,” Dean consoled, running his fingers through her hair comfortingly. He would always say “no chick-flick moments”, but he makes exceptions from time to time.

(Y/N) knew he was right, but she didn't want to believe it. Dean gave her the comfort she needed before having to leave to make some food for dinner. The first day with Chuck back in the bunker wasn't going to be easy.

It was not an easy night. There was a tense air about the kitchen and at dinner with minimal conversation. After dinner, (Y/N) placed her plate in the sink and left the room. The footsteps that followed told her it was not Sam or Dean; their steps were a little heavier. He followed at a distance all the way to her room where he stood outside the door; she didn't close it.

“Hey. C-could we talk?” he asked softly, his hands jammed into his pockets as he leaned against the doorjamb.

“What's there to talk about?” she questioned offhandedly. (Y/N) watched as the man before her reverted back to his old ticks from when he was a “prophet”. If he ever was.

“Please? I-I just want to apologize, to explain. Please?” Chuck pleaded, trying to gauge whether she'd let him. In all honesty, (Y/N) wanted to tell him no, to leave her alone. But part of her wanted to know; wanted to know if everything they had was real. (Chuck heard her thoughts, but didn't say anything. He didn't want to upset her more.)

“Fine. It's not like I can avoid you forever. Come on in,” she sighed, motioning for him to close the door as he stepped into her room. Spinning her desk chair around, he took a seat and began explaining everything.

Chuck told (Y/N) that he was always God, that he wanted a chance to experience life like his creations so much, that he pushed who he truly was so far back he almost forgot who he was. That when he met her, it was the happiest day of his life and that she was a light in the darkness that was his life. Hurting her was not what he wanted; he just wanted to keep her safe.

“Keep me safe?! How is disappearing without even telling me keeping me safe?!” she shouted, pacing her room now.

“Because I started remembering who I was and I didn't want you to know. If you knew, if anyone knew, they could use you against me. If any demon knew that God had a girlfriend, they'd use you to hurt me. I couldn't let that happen. Yes, I should have told you something, left a note, but I couldn't. I was hoping you would forget about me. I am so sorry that I hurt you so badly. I never wanted that to happen,” Chuck placated, slowly approaching (Y/N) as she stopped pacing. They were inches apart from each other, not touching. Tears ran down her cheeks as she stared at the man she once loved. Still loved.

“I really want to hate you right now, Chuck. But part of me is happy you're back and part of me just wants to slap you for such a dick move. I'm torn between wanting to love you still and not wanting to have anything to do with you,” she stated, turning away from him slightly.

“Can you find it within yourself to forgive me, (Y/N)? Or give me a chance to make it right? I now I'm the last person you would want to hear this from, but I still love you. I haven't stopped,” Chuck replied, gently taking her hand and turning to face him.

She stared at him, his eyes held a sincerity she hadn't seen in a long time. He meant every word. Closing her eyes for a minute, she took a deep breath and opened her eyes, pinning him with a look that held more than her words. “One chance. If you mess this up, there won't be a third chance. I can't forgive you fully yet, but I just might soon.”

He gave her a somewhat sad smile, squeezing her hand slightly, “That's all I ask. I'll do my best to prove myself to you.” He held his arms out a little, silently asking for a hug. (Y/N) debated whether or not she should, but the part of her that loved him still gave in. Slowly she brought her arms up and around Chuck, feeling something in her chest she missed. The feeling of being home. Chuck returned her hug, feeling relief course through him. He didn't want to mess up this chance.

* * *

Everything had gone well for a while, they got Castiel back...well Lucifer in Castiel's vessel, and Donatello was around for a bit. They even got Rowena and Crowley on their sides. The plan was set in motion, but no one saw this coming. Amara was winning. And Chuck was dying.

“Damn it! You can't die on me; on us now! Please, you got to fight this,” (Y/N) pleaded, craddling the unconscious man in her arms. Tears welled up in her eyes, one or two escaping and landing on his head.

“Ow...” he moaned as he stirred. Chuck looked pale, there were no wounds, but he looked hurt.

“Chuck? Are-are you alright?” Sam asked, kneeling beside them.

“You know when you're driving and a bug hits your windshield? I'm the bug,” he replied, groaning a bit as he tried to sit up. (Y/N) and Sam helped him stand up, but all his weight was being supported by Sam.

The group made their way back to the bunker and a new plan was forming. A soul bomb that Dean was to carry. No one really liked the idea, but it was all they had. All the while, (Y/N) found herself by Chuck's side the entire time. She was wondering if she'd have enough time to forgive him.

“Chuck?” she asked softly.

“Hm?” he turned to look at her, face contorted slightly in pain.

“I don't know how long we have until this works or not, but I-I just wanted to say...” she broke off.

“Say what?” he took her hand, rubbing small circles into the back of her hand with his thumb; he would always do that when she got anxious.

“I forgive you, Chuck. I forgave you a long time ago. I just couldn't tell you with everything that was happening,” she finished, catching his dull blue eyes; they weren't as bright at the moment.

He smiled, grasping her hand in a firmer grip, and pulled her into his side gently. “Better late than never, huh?”

“Almost too late,” (Y/N) muttered as she leaned against him. He gave a small chuckle and just held her as tight as he could. The two of them sat in silence while the others planned.

“Hey (Y/N)?” he broke through the silence surrounding them.

“Yeah?”

“Can you promise me something?” his voice held something she couldn't place as she sat up to look at him.

“What?”

“Promise me you won't let go of what we had. If this doesn't turn out how we want, promise you won't forget what we once had together.”

“Don't talk like that, Chuck. We're going to get through this,” she begged, staring at the broken man in front of her.

“Please, (Y/N). Please, just promise me this,” he pleaded.

“Okay. I promise.”

* * *

They won. It was over. Chuck and Amara had reconnected, Dean was alive, and Mary was back. (Y/N) had followed Sam and Castiel back to the bunker where some British lady had ambushed them and banished Cas. Now Sam lay on the floor, bleeding from a bullet wound and (Y/N) was staring down the Brit's gun.

“Please don't make me shoot you, too,” her posh voice stated, but her stance said otherwise.

“I don't think that would be wise,” (Y/N) taunted as she stood in front of Sam protectively.

“Pray tell, why would you say that?”

“Because of me.” The woman turned around to see a man behind her that radiated power to the point where he was glowing. With a click of his fingers, she was knocked out on the floor and Chuck made his way over to Sam and (Y/N). Kneeling beside Sam, he got to work on healing him.

“Thank you, Chuck,” Sam breathed as the pain went away.

“You don't have to thank me, Sam,” he smiled as he helped the hunter off the floor, “Dean is on his way home to you both.”

With another snap of his fingers, Castiel was standing next to them again. “Wait, Dean's alive?”

“Yes, he is. Amara, she finally saw what I had tried to show all that time ago, and we're working on making things right between us.”

He waited with them for Dean to come back, and were surprised when Mary was in tow. While the Winchesters reconnected, (Y/N) found where Chuck had gone; outside to watch the stars.

“So, do you have to leave again?”

“For a bit, I have to show Amara a few things, but I'll be back before you know it,” he promised, placing a kiss on her lips. But he pulled away too soon, muttering an apology, but (Y/N) wasn't having it. She grabbed a fistful of his shirt and pulled him back to her, claiming his lips. Looks like everything between them was good again.

* * *

True to his word, Chuck returned after two months and stayed at the bunker. With him, however, came the archangels. This was going to take some getting used to. Gabriel loved cooking with (Y/N) when Chuck or Dean wasn't, Raphael and her could sit in the library for hours and just read, Michael loved to watch the stars at night on the roof and share stories with her from heaven. The one that surprised most was her and Lucifer.

He was apprehensive of her at first, but now the two can be found out in the garden he planted, tending to his roses and herbs, either sharing storied and tips, or quietly in the mid-morning light. Sam, Dean, and Mary would even find the two of them in the living room they created and they'd bond over old movies and classic songs. Chuck didn't have to worry about Castiel as the two of them had a friendship that formed when they first met.

However, (Y/N) was by herself and Chuck took this opportunity to spring an idea on her. “Wanna go dancing?”

She gave him a smirk and playfully replied, “Why Chuck, are you asking me out on a date?”

“I am. So, what do you say?” he stated, leaning over the back of the couch where she was sitting.

“Do I have to get dressed up?”

“No. You look perfect as you are.”

“Chuck, I'm sitting around in my pajamas,” she deadpanned, causing him to laugh.

“True. Yes, you'll want to change, but no, you don't have to be fancy about it. Jeans and a nice shirt would be fine,” he replied once he caught his breath.

“It's a date then.”

They found themselves at this club in town that was nicer than most. The two of them had the time of their lives. After a while, a few slow songs began and one stood out to them; Say You Won't Let Go by James Arthur.

Chuck sang along to the song as he spun her around, “ I met you in the dark, you lit me up. You made me feel as though I was enough.” These few words meant so much to the two of them; they were both at a dark place, but to the other, they were a light that made them feel worth it. Made them feel like they truly were enough for the other.

Everything was going well for the couple. Everyone could see how happy they were with each other and seeing that gave Gabriel an idea. That could either be a good thing or a bad thing.

“So dad, when are you gonna pop the question to (Y/N)?” he asked out of the blue one day when she and the Winchesters were out on a hunt.

“I'm sorry, what?”

“You know, when are you going to propose to (Y/N)? You are, aren't you?” Gabriel inquired, leaning against the counter next to where he was working. Chuck sighed and stopped what he was working on.

“I don't know.”

“Oh come on! You have to have some idea on how. I know you have a ring for her.”

“How did you-”

“You left it on the counter the other day and I put it in your room before (Y/N) could see it. I know that's not how you'd want to propose to her,” Gabriel shrugged.

“Thank you for that. I've been thinking about how for days now, but each idea doesn't seem right,” Chuck confessed, running a hand through his hair. He wanted to make it special, but none of them were what he wanted to do.

“Why don't you leave the how it happens to us, and you worry about what you're going to say?” Gabriel wiggled his eyebrows before leaving the room with a stunned Chuck in his wake.

“Gabriel! Wait!” he shouted as he chased after his son.

A few days later, the others came back from their hunt. They got cleaned up and made their way out into the War Room, finding the archangels and Castiel there waiting.

“What's going on?” Dean asked, suspicious of their motives.

“We have a surprise for you all. Come on outside to the garden,” Lucifer replied, a happy smile on his face. Looking at each other, they shrugged and followed the angels outside. Gabriel pulled (Y/N) aside for a moment.

“What's up?” she wondered as he was acting strange.

“Just wanted to put this in your hair,” he replied, holding up a small white daisy and weaved it behind her ear, “come on.”

He lead her over to where the others were waiting and in the middle of it all, was her boyfriend Chuck. They gave the couple some space before she asked, “Chuck, what's going on?”

“(Y/N), I have something I want to ask you,” he replied, taking a hold of her hands.

“What is it?”

“(Y/N), before I met you, there felt like something was missing from my life. And then I met you. I met you in the dark, you lit me up. You made me feel as though I was enough. Despite everything we've been through, you were always there for me, and I hope I can always be there for you, too. I've never felt so complete until you came into my life. But there's still something missing. Something I hope you'll agree with. (Y/N), will you do the honors of filling that missing part? Will you marry me?” Chuck knelt down on one knee and revealed a blue velvet box with a beautiful silver ring with a halo of small white diamonds in the middle.

By the end of his little speech, (Y/N) had tears welling up in her eyes, her hands covering her mouth in shock. With a nod of her head, she wrapped her arms around Chuck and replied, “Yes, of course I'll marry you!”

* * *

And now we reach where we began.

There have been many things Chuck Shurley was called, but coward was not one of them. Nor would being nervous about getting married of all things, but here he was, standing at the alter, nervous for what felt like the first time in forever.

“Dad, calm down. It's going to be fine; you and (Y/N) are crazy about each other. Relax,” Raphael soothed, placing a hand on his father's shoulder.

“You're right, you're right. I just can't believe this is happening,” he sighed, trying to calm his nerves.

“You're the one who asked her, I'm pretty sure she's the one that can't believe it,” Lucifer commented from the side where he and Michael stood. Gabriel was behind a camera, making sure it was set up correctly.

*Meanwhile*

“I can't do this,” (Y/N) muttered as she paced her dressing room where Mary and Charlie stood, helping her get ready.

“Relax, sweetheart. Every bride gets nervous before their big day. If anything, Chuck is just as nervous. Everything is going to be fine,” Mary consoled, placing her hands on her shoulders to stop the frantic girl.

“Right, right. Okay, I can do this,” (Y/N) spoke to herself, slowly calming down. Charlie came back into the room with a gift in her hand.

“Here. Put this on,” she handed it over to her. It was a flower crown that looked like a halo of small white and gold daisies.

“Oh Charlie, it's beautiful!”

“I made it for you. So lets put the veil on and slid this over it.” The two women worked together to get her ready. By then, Sam, Dean, and Castiel had come up to her room. They were finally able to use those suits of theirs for something good. And Cas for once wasn't wearing his trench coat.

“You look beautiful, (Y/N),” Sam commented, pulling her in for a hug.

“He's right. Now, we're going to walk down with you to the doors, but Bobby's gonna walk you down the aisle,” Dean stated, watching her face light up. Bobby had taken the place of her father after he had passed away and to have him here meant everything to her. They all walked down the stairs and met with Bobby and Eileen at the bottom of the stairs.

Charlie and Castiel walked out, then Sam and Eileen, and finally Dean and Mary. The wedding march had started. Bobby linked his arm with (Y/N)'s and lead her out.

“I don't care if he is God, if he ever hurts you again, you let me know and I'll straighten him out for ya,” Bobby whispered as they made their way down the aisle.

“I don't think that'll happen, but thank you. If I ever need anything, I'll call,” she replied. When she saw Chuck at the alter, his eye shinning with happiness, she was glad she said yes. Bobby placed a kiss on her cheek before giving Chuck her hand. It was a small outdoor wedding with mostly hunters and a few “normal” friends that her and Chuck had. All in all, it was a beautiful ceremony.

Everyone made their way to the reception area and when they shared their first dance, it was to their song.

“I met you in the dark,

You lit me up,

You made me feel as though

I was enough”

Chuck spun her around as the song played. Despite everything that came their way, he was happy to share this life with her.

“I knew I loved you then But you'd never know 'Cause I played it cool when I was scared of letting go”

This was the happiest night of (Y/N)'s life. As she twirled around in his arms, she couldn't picture her life any different than it was now. Even if she was now the mother of a bunch of angels and wife to God himself, she wouldn't trade it for the world.

“I'm gonna love you till My lungs give out I promise till death we part like in our vows So I wrote this song for you, now everybody knows 'Cause now it's just you and me till we're grey and old Just say you won't let go Just say you won't let go”

The night wore on and while the music played and photos were taken, (Y/N) and Chuck took comfort in each other's arms. She was thankful for meeting him in the dark those years ago. Chuck became her light and she never felt more whole then she did now. Life was going to change for her and she couldn't wait to see what it had in store for her. Especially if it involved her new “step-children”. With Chuck by her side, (Y/N) was certain she could handle anything right now. She kept her promise though; she didn't let go of her love for Chuck.

And he didn't let go of her.

#sing it supernatural challenge #chuck shurley x reader #chuck shurley fluff #chuck shurley angst #archangels #say you won't let go #my writing #supernatural x reader

[thekryptonianandthecitygirl]

Alfred

She gets in first. She doesn't look up at him, of course.

Instead, he watches as her trembling hands reach for him, her deep blue eyes filled with sadness, with distress, with pain – so much pain. She settles on the backseat, and immediately, the Bat and the Invincible Woman gently lay his body on her lap.

He didn't know him, not really, but the sight of him, the sight of them, the fallen hero and the shaterred heart he leaves behind, is enough to make his own ache.

Bruce closes the door, but once again, she doesn't care. She craddles his face, shaking fingers tenderly running on his now cold skin, so softly, with so much care. Tears roll down her darkened cheeks, but she doesn't wipe them away. She doesn't, and, her chest shaken by silent sobs, she simply leans down and kisses his forehead, one of her hands reaching for his unresponsive one.

Feeling like an intruder in such an intimate moment, Alfred pulls up the thick glass between the passenger and the driver's sides, and starts the car.

Right before it fully closes, he hears Lois Lane whisper her love to Superman one last time.

Diana

She goes to see her.

With what Bruce told her, they'll have to talk to her, eventually, but this time, it's not about that. She goes to see her, not as a soldier trying to prepare for war, not as a warrior trying to figure out what makes her the 'key' to the future of Metropolis – possibily of the world. None of that.

She goes to see her as a sister. As someone who's lived through what she's living, who suffered what she's suffering.

Diana can see she's surprised to find her at her door. Of course she is. She's mefiant at first, doesn't talk much. The Amazon guesses the woman is not one to open up easily, anyway. It comes as no surprise that she's not keen on doing so regarding that particular subject, either.

But eventually, she tells her.

She tells her about the bad dreams, which after weeks are still there, and about the times when she wakes up, and forgets he's not here anymore. She tells her about how when she reaches and his side of the bed is empty, she wants to die.

She tells her that for the first time in her life, she started thinking about having kids. Not because he wanted to, even though she knew he did, or because she felt obligated to or some bullshit like that – but just because she wanted that. She was the first to be surprised, but she really did - with him, she wanted a family, a lifetime and far more. "Talk about an ironic turn of events."

She tells her about the guilt. She should have figure it out faster, should have known about Lex's plans to create his abomination and stop it in time. She should have been there for him, she shoudn't have let him go and isolate himself. She should have stop him from going to his death, because he didn't deserve it. She hates herself.

Not just herself, though. Everything. Everyone.

She hates Luthor, his sidekicks, all the ones, from the politicians to the wealthy and the poor, who worshipped him. She hates the world, for making him think he was unfair and hated and a fraud. She hates them, Diana and Bruce, for surviving when he didn't. She hates him, for sacrificing himself like that and leaving her all alone.

(Then again, him, she can't never hate for long.)

She tells her about all those damn feelings and how they never, ever leave her alone and it's a constant hell, a living nightmare she can't wake up from. Diana wishes she could tell her it would eventually stop, that eventually, it would be alright. She doesn't.

Lois is far too clever to believe her lie, anyway.

Perry

It's been one year today.

It's hard to forget. He disappeared the same night Superman did, and the city – the whole damn world – is publically grieving, through social medias, in the streets, on the radio. The news won't shut up about it.

Part of him – the cynical one – can't help but think that some of them are just hypocrites, but then the other part of him knows that most of them mean it, most of them are sorry, most of them regret. He certainly does. He knows it won't change much - too little, too late - but he hopes that wherever he is, the poor guy can see it.

Of course, it's impossible to forget the date of his death because of Superman, but even if there hadn't been that, he wouldn't have forgotten.

How could he.

For all the hard time he gave him, he liked the boy. A good kid – a really good one, as annoying as he could get. Gone too young, far too soon. Even now, and particularly today, the thought still wears him down. Shitty life it was.

She hadn't been the same since that day. He didn't expect her to – nobody did. Nobody that knew her, least of all those that knew them. Between those two, it was as fast and unexpected as it was true, he knew.

She put up a good face, of course. She was tough, always had been. According to his wife, that even why she was his favorite ("The only person as butt-headed and thick skinned as you.") But this time, she took a hit, a real one.

The worst life could have dropped on her, and shit, how it did.

All the habits pre-Kent came back, only amplified by a million: the working all day long, sometimes all night long, the unhealthy amount of coffee – and sometimes, he knew, of alcool. Her damn tendency to not feed herself. He could have killed them for the number of stupid lovesick looks they used to throw at each other all day, not to mention the few times they arrived late – from lunch or in the morning - with equally happy stupid expressions, but at least, it put a smile on her face. Always did.

Now, he couldn't remember the last time he had seen one of those on her.

He looks up to see her exit the elevator, lips tighten and eyes betraying that her thoughts aren't here despite her confident walk towards her desk. She's pale. As she drops her bag, he sees her gaze catch with the diamand on her left hand, and he sighs, his old ticker tightening at the look that crosses her features.

She quickly turns and gets back to work.

That day, he can see her stopping herself from turning towards what used to be his desk. Taking the corruptions investigation as an excuse, he takes her to help him out on the field, cursing the sky that that's the only damn thing he can do.

Bruce

When he comes back, she's at their door before they even have the time to reach for her, an unreadable face and a firm and demanding 'What's the plan?' the only greeting they get.

(She barely spares him a glance, and won't do so unless she absolutely has to, in the days that follow. Not that he can blame her.)

She's here night and day, focus never wavering as they search for him, try to find a way to get to him, make him see sense. Deliver him from whatever hold Darkseid has on him, and that made him forget everything he stands for, everything he is.

Sometimes, they see a slight flutter, the pain crossing her blue eyes as she looks up at the screens and doesn't see the man she's fallen for, not yet, right before she averts her eyes and looks away, regaining her neutral expression as quickly as it disappeared.

It lasts for a few days, and seems like an eternity. It does, and at times, it almost seems impossible. But they continue, because they have too, and because they can't let the Kryptonian hero down – not again. Besides, there's hope.

After all, there's one thing he knows Clark didn't forget. Not really.

Looking up as her hurried steps come closer, her engaged in an intense conversation with Diana, Arthur and Alfred, the words come back to him again. She's the key.

As it turns out, she is.

Martha

She lights up again.

Whenever she used to come to the farm, during that terrible year, she'd always try and put up a good face. She did her best to be of enjoyable company, tried to put some enthusiasm in her stories as she told her about work and her on going investigations, fought to dig up some true and sincere smiles. And sometimes, they did manage genuine laughs.

Sometimes, for just a moment, the pain felt a little less, and it seemed that they were able to properly breath again. It never lasted very long, but at least being with each other granded them those few moments of temporary relief.

It did, and even when it didn't, Lois tried – she really tried to be strong. She was strong. But her smiles weren't as bright, and they rarely reached her eyes anymore. Martha would often find her glancing at the photographs of his own smile, at his old cap hanging near the door. More than once, she came out of his room on the mornings with eyes and cheeks redden by wiped tears Martha pretended not to notice.

(She'd just squeeze her hand, and she'd squeeze back, and they both would go on, because they both knew that was what he would have wanted.)

But when he comes back, she lights up again.

She's not like before, not really - never will be. Sometimes, Martha can still see the ghost of it all in her eyes when she looks at him, the inevitable fear that it might happen again never far. There's also the way that in the first days, she's constantly alert, always reaching for him. There's the mistrust mixed with the gratitude he sees and tells Martha about, when the League comes by their apartment that first week to fill him in on some important hero, saviors of the world stuff that can't really wait.

But despite all that, there's also the smiles that come back, the real ones. The vivacity, the witiness, the back and forths with him that leave her eyes sparkling. The bags under them start disappearing as sleep comes back, her cheeks regain their colors. She starts laughing again, and Martha realizes how long it's been since she's heard her done that.

That day, they're on the couch when she gets back in the house, her wrinckled hands dirty from her gardening. The TV is on, and they're watching some action movie. At least she's kind of watching, because Clark is just laying there, back to her chest, dozzing of as her fingers gently go back and forth in his dark curls. As the hero on the screen starts running towards his car, he catches one of her hands and brings their joined ones to his stomach, and, lips brushing his forehead, Lois tightens her hold.

#clois #clois fics #dawn of justice fics #justice league fics #mine

[love4annie]

Glossed over eyes.

John Shelby x OC

Note: Pretty much Martha, but with some modifications, and she's not dead because that's how i cope.

War had changed a lot of things.

Clothings that now became more practical, women dropping a few layers to keep up with their duties for when their husbands and fathers weren't home.

Haistyles, mostly for men, who wore it the same way they did while battling. It gave them a unique flair they held proudly, like a crown posed on their heads for serving their country.

War had changed a lot of things.

Nights in Birmingham were no longer the nearly peaceful wanders in darkness and dim lights escaping windows, dangerless other than the unfortunate meeting with a drunken neighbor whose violence took over, or the ocasional fights that broke between lads. They were now filled with nightmares for the woken and asleep, for those who went to war and those who didn't. They were filled with the cries of agony traumatised men would throw, or the shattering of furniture, or sobs of children. Even the once cocky and careless boys returned broken, double-checking with each step they made, glimpses of the front haunting them in diurnal whispers and nocturnal screams. They'd seen lives abruptly taken, flying with the breath of a breeze. They were survivors, while those who used to sit on the other side of the table, were gone, consumed in the ashes, dissipated in the mud of the collective graves, buried under the ground they walked on.

They were survivors, while others weren't.

War had changed a lot of things.

And her husband was one of them. It was not apparent when he bickered with his equally changed brothers, or when he did business. It was not apparent when he was playing with their kids, or when he was poking fun at her. It only showed in the gloominess, when John would finally allow himself to rest beside his wife, in the earliest hours into the next, unpredicable day. When he no longer would be distracted by the fast events of life. His wife's soft snoring and her gentle arms holding him would grow distant, his own body would grow numb and his eyes would look around the room.

But it wasn't the room they were seeing.

They would recall the details of the cruelty he had witnessed. They would remember the bursting heads of men he had chanted with, knowing well it could've been his. They would remind him of the pained expressions his brothers had when they were separated, not sure if they will unite again. He frankly believed the three of them would never sit around the same plate. He thought that one, two or even them all would forever perish in France.

In France, he would reminisce, over young Martha's portrait, of their free escapades and lovely times. He found comfort in all their memories, from when they met as children to when he got her pregnant at sixteen to when Arthur walked her down the aisle. He had smiled mindlessly to even their struggles with their two kids, thought of what his thirdborn would look like, until his smile dropped, realizing he was unable of seeing him, because the war was still rumbling around him, and if he didn't want it to reach them, he had to face it.

And he would shout, shriek, yell, of fear and pain and bravery, he would join the chorus of suffering voices and wake Martha from beside him. She would sit, worried, before her features displayed sorrow for her husband's torment. Her hands would grab his cheeks, cup his face and she would gently bring him back to her; the war had already taken him for long enough.

She would craddle him and wipe his forehead of sweat, while he brawled with unconscious protests. Then she would sing, a lullaby she used on her children, her mother using it on herself, and her warmth would bring John back, the familiar walls materialising around him and his wife's voice unclenching his heart. She would kiss and console him as he mumbled about his troubled self, appologizing for God knows what, so out of himself but also so safe and sound that she would just ignore it all and keep hugging him, reassuring both of them that he was home, often until dawn peaked through the curtains.

War had changed a lot of things. Even somethings in their daily, even in their dynamic.

But it never, never changed their love.

#john shelby x oc #john shelby #peaky blinders #peaky blinder fanfic #shelby family #john shelby x reader