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sashaisready · 4 months

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Chapter Thirteen

Lee Bodecker (The Devil All The Time) x Femme Reader

A year after the sudden death of your husband you find yourself at a loose end, unsure what to do next. You're also learning about your sexuality - your hidden desires and fantasies creeping out now you're no longer playing the role of the good wife. A certain Sheriff in town could be the one to awaken something in you.

Series Masterlist

Chapter 14

Warnings: sexual references, references to murder, references to infidelity

Lee laughed sardonically as he wiped himself down.

“What do you mean we’re done?” he glowered, putting his clothes back on.

“I mean we’re over, Lee. Done. I can’t be with a killer” you told him firmly.

Lee stopped in his tracks, staring at you in disbelief.

“You literally just rode my mouth on your kitchen table an' came all over my face, and now you want me out?”

You nodded. “Yes”.

Lee shook his head. “You’re a fuckin’ fruitcake, you know that?” he spat.

You bristled slightly at his words, but held his stare.

“Yeah? Is that what you think?” you asked.

“I do” Lee fired back, his eyes ablaze with anger and the large quantity of whiskey he’d had with dinner.

“You don’t know what the fuck you want, honey. You’re all over the place. You want me to think you’re this quiet little good girl but then you wanna guzzle my cum and have me fuck the shit outta you in public”.

You grimaced, bracing yourself.

“And like I said. I don’t regret what I did. And you don’t either, based on what you were mutterin’ to me up on the table, getting off on talkin’ bout it. You like that I got rid of him and you’re glad that I did”.

You flinched, the truth of his words causing shame to redden your face.

“And you’re too scared to do anythin’ cos you’re worried about what the strangers in this town will say about it. You act like you’re tough and above it all but you’re just a scared little girl. It’s pathetic”.

He was getting in your face now, you could smell the alcohol on his breath. But all he was doing was reigniting your own anger.

“Yeah? Well you’re a fuckin’ brute, Lee” you shouted back at him. “And you lied to me. You took me on dates and acted all normal while you had this big secret hanging over you like it was no big deal”.

You couldn’t stop now.

“You solve everything with force and violence like a cave man. You wanna talk about what the town think? How about you acting like the heroic community sheriff for them but really you’re a drunk putting bullet holes in your co-workers and fucking whores over at Tecumseh? Imagine if they all knew. What would that do for your re-election chances, huh?”

His jaw ticked and you watched as his face turned to disgust and revulsion. He’d never looked at you quite like that before.

Lee grimaced. He was hurt because he knew you were right, and he wanted to make you feel like he did.

“Why would I need a whore in Tecumseh when I have one right here?” he whispered, raising his palms out defensively.

You staggered back as if you’d been struck, your face screwing up in pain.

He looked taken aback for a moment as if he was surprised by his own words.

“Wait honey, I-”

He regretted it instantly. He knew that was your insecurity and he used it against you in the heat of the moment. He didn’t even mean it.

“No, you said what you said” you snarled. “Good to know how you really see me, Lee. Truth is finally out”.

“And it’s good to know how you really see me” he countered.

You hesitated. You didn’t really think all that about him. You just said it in the moment because he hurt you and you wanted to hurt him.

But it was too late now. Words were like toothpaste, you can’t put it back in the tube once you’ve squeezed it out.

“Fuck, what am I doing?” you said out loud, your hands clenching at clumps of your hair in exasperation. “What am I doing?! What would Arthur think of me?”

Lee groaned. “Oh fuckin’ Arthur. Arthur this and Arthur that. Easy to be a saint when you’re dead, ain’t it?”

Your mouth fell open in shock. “Lee…Jesus Christ”

“Well I’m right ain’t I? All you ever do is tell me how bad he made you feel. How he made you feel dirty or like a whore for wantin’ to fuck him. Like somehow a wife wantin’ relations with her husband was wrong and you had somethin’ defective within ya. Even though it’s the most natural thing in the world”.

The anguish swept over you, the painful truth of his words felt like a hundred needles all sticking into your skin at once. But he kept going.

“But then you act like he was this golden husband. And yeah he treated you nice overall. But you ain’t supposed to make your wife doubt herself like that. And yeah…I’m a brute. A drunk. I have made mistakes and Lord knows I fucked up my own marriage…but I would never make you feel like that. Never. I always thought you were the most beautiful, wonderful thing…and the fact you wanted to be with me too was like Christmas fuckin' morning every time”.

You closed your eyes as his words stuck in your heart, squeezing your lids tightly shut and desperately trying to fend off the threat of your tears.

“Lee…I-” you started..

“You don’t want me to keep any secrets from you, sweetness? Fine. I got a big one for ya” he said, malice rippling through his words as he leaned closer to you.

Your eyes opened, wide and nervous as you looked back at him – he reminded you of a crouched lion about to spring out on an oblivious antelope.

“Your saintly dead husband…the one who can do no wrong? Well I know why he was keeping your bed cold at night” he said calmly.

Your face contorted in horror, terrified of what he was going to tell you.

“Lee…no” you pleaded quietly.

“Yes. It all came out when we were doing our enquiries after the accident, you see? He was drivin’ to see some other woman when the crash happened”.

Your head began to spin and you stumbled away from him, crashing into the counter.

“No…” you said softly. Nausea swelled in your stomach and you could feel it rising up your throat.

“Yes” he growled. “She called the station when she read about the crash in the paper and told us everythin’. We had to interview her. They’d been havin’ an affair for months, maybe longer, she was vague. He’d booked the day off work and lied to you about it. We had to tell her to stay the fuck away from the funeral, outta respect for you. We never told you cos we thought you were better off not knowin’. But seein’ as you hate secrets and me lying to you…”

You suddenly vomited onto the kitchen floor and crumpled into a heap, crashing against the sink as you sank to your feet.

“She moved away shortly after. Resettled somewhere in Michigan to start over”.

No. No. Not Arthur.

It all made sense now. His quiet disdain for you towards the end. His refusal to make love to you or even touch in the time leading up to the Event. He was getting it somewhere else. Maybe he had been doing that for years.

Your sobs were quiet as you pulled your knees to your chest, rocking yourself back and forth. Every ounce of pain came rushing out – from the grief of Arthur and the weight of this new revelation, to the pain and trauma of Davey, the guilt over Julie, the horror of seeing this terrible new side of Lee.

Lee sighed heartily, immediately remorseful about what he'd said. Furious at himself for letting his temper and the whiskey carry him away. You had hurt him when you ended things, and what you had said to him, and he had gone on the offensive and lashed out. Like he always did when he was cornered.

“Oh babydoll, I’m so sorry” he said gently, his eyes wet with the beginnings of tears. “Please…I didn’t-”

“Please just go, Lee” you whispered. “Please”.

He hesitated, reaching out to touch you when you spoke again.

“I promise I won’t say anything about Davey, okay? I swear. You don’t have to worry about me, alright? They wouldn’t believe me over you anyway”. Your voice was shaky, wobbling between sobs.

“Sweetness, I don’t care about that I just-”

“I promise. Please” you pleaded.

You looked up at him nervously through your hair with tear stained cheeks and he realised with horror that you were afraid of him. Afraid that he would hurt you to shut you up.

Lee paused. He suddenly felt ashamed.

“I’m sorry, about all of this. I didn’t really mean any of it” he said softly. “I-I love you. I always will”.

He leaned over and kissed you gently on the forehead.

And with that, he left.

#lee bodecker x reader #sheriff lee bodecker #lee bodecker #lee bodecker x you #lee bodecker x female reader #Awakened fic

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organchordsandlightning · 7 months

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a little thing I wrote for @captaincravatthecapricious 's birthday! I know jasper likes Mary Yang, Parker's sister OC from the lighthouse series, and there's a little line that references how Mary once sewed Arthur up - thought I'd write a little oneshot of it. Happy birthday, friend!

Parker knew he was going to fuck himself over, being here – but by his estimation, they were already pretty fucked anyway, and this was his last option. He raised his fist and pounded hard on the door. The enthusiastic conversation they’d heard on the other side abruptly stopped.

“Squirt!” Parker called out. Against his shoulder, Arthur hissed in pain. “It’s Fixer, you gotta – you gotta let me in. Please, it’s an emergency.”

Really wasn’t how he thought his Saturday night would end. He’d been hoping this damn case would be over by now, that he’d be sitting pretty in his office, signing and paying bills like a king. Unfortunately, he couldn't catch a break about as well as Arthur could catch a knife in his shoulder.

Arthur was starting to flag. He’d done the stairs to Mary’s fourth floor apartment alright, but now, he sagged against Parker’s shoulder. His head was ducked low, chin nearly to his chest. Parker had just raised his hand to bang on the door again before it swung open, revealing a sister that he hadn’t talked to in... about three months, if he had to guess.

She’d also lived in Arkham for just about that time. Parker could remember that pretty well, because the last time he’d seen her, he’d helped her move in. Reasonably sure he’d also talked a big game about how often they’d get together after, too.

Parker was hoping she’d have forgotten. From the look on her face, she hadn’t.

A group of girls were in the living room behind her, most with a textbook on their lap. They took one look at Parker, and maybe a second look at Arthur, before they fled with Olympic speed into the hall.

He always had a way with women. English did, too.

“Say,” he tried to joke, hefting Arthur’s arm over his shoulder. “They teach you how to sew a guy up in your first year of medical school?”

Mary looked from him to Arthur. Parker knew damn well she could sew somebody up, because she was the one he went crawling to after a bad boxing match. A stab wound probably surprised her less than some of the shit he’d shown up with, after getting the bright idea to put ball bearings in his pockets so he could fight one weight class up.

Then again, you didn’t enroll in medical school because you really loved the sight of people in pain.

She gave him a look of barely concealed anger and waved both of them inside.

“Hear that, English?” He knew it wasn’t the time to make the joke, really wasn’t, but Arthur had also gone worryingly limp. Parker wanted to make sure he hadn’t just turned his sister’s apartment into a crime scene. “You’re not going to have to give birth in a manger after all.”

Alright, decently hard crowd between Squirt and English, but when he managed to wrestle Arthur onto the couch… at least he was breathing. He slumped back on the cushions, head lolling to his good shoulder.

At once, Mary was on her knees in front of him. She undid his shirt, peeling back the fabric just enough to take a close examination of his shoulder.

“You’re… Mary?” Arthur wheezed, voice delicate as an angel’s wing. “Parker’s sister? Nice… nice to meet you. I’m Parker’s friend.”

Mary leaned back on her ankles. “This man has been stabbed,” she accused.

“You really are going to be a good doc someday –” Alright, one more joke and Mary really was going to turn this place into a crime scene. “Yeah. Yes, okay, he got stabbed. We can’t go to the hospital, he…” What was the best way to phrase this? “The police thinks he’s responsible for, uh. A couple of murders.”

Mary’s eyes widened at him. Not in shock, not in surprise, but what Parker assumed was the thrilling feeling of being related to him. Hey, he wasn’t the one suspected of being a serial killer.

“He didn’t do it,” Parker repeated firmly. “We just, uh. Don’t want the police to be called, if we go to the hospital.”

Arthur’s voice was slurred, his head drooping a little further. It reminded Parker of how birds slept. “Really…” he mumbled. “Really didn’t.”

Mary’s lips twitched as she looked between Arthur, between Parker, and although Parker knew what Mary’s answer was going to be, he didn’t feel any less guilty for it.

His sister reached underneath the couch and pulled out a first-aid kit. “Go into the kitchen and get me a wet cloth,” she announced. “And don’t talk to any of my roommates if you see them.”

“I’ll be the best nurse you can ask for, Squirt.”

With Arthur rapidly shuffling off his mortal coil, Parker didn’t spend time lingering in the kitchen – but until the end of the Earth, he was a detective, and he noted the tea kettle resting on one of the burners, the newspapers scattered over the table, and the pictures Mary had pinned to the wall. Nothing to concern a nosy older brother.

“He’s going to be alright?” He asked upon his return, passing over the damp washcloth. Arthur’s shirt was peeled down to his waist, the blood forming an amateur Picasso along his skin. Mary began to soak the blood away, and Jesus, that was one mother of a gash on his shoulder. The knife must’ve been bigger than Parker thought.

“This is your partner?”

“Oh. Uh – yeah. Yeah, um. This is… Arthur Lester.”

“Hm.” It was a pointed noise. “You didn’t mention him, last time. The three months ago. He was here then?”

If there was anything like family to get you tongue-tied. Forget cats, little sisters really cornered the market. “He… he just didn’t come up,” Parker lied dumbly, putting a hand to the back of his neck. “Y’know. I, I wanted to talk about you more, you know! Moving from the big city down to, uh. The other big city.”

It was a damn lie and Mary knew it, but maybe she didn’t know the why – but she was a smart girl, Parker figured. She had to at least guess the why. Mary had seen him come back to the house with bruises and cuts, maybe with a few loose teeth to flash at her.

But detective work was different than boxing. Sure, a guy might come at you after a match because his mommy wasn’t around to tell him he was big and strong, but ultimately, things ended at the ring of the bell. In detective work, Parker always had to be considering what lingered over his shoulder. What was worse, you never could escape the stories of families being tracked down. Kidnapped, tortured, held for ransom, maimed, straight-up murdered… all because a detective had the audacity to do their job.

Mary didn’t respond. She cracked open the first-aid kit, reaching for the disinfectant, and went to work instead. Adrenaline was still arcing across his back teeth, and he was grateful that Q and A was over for the time being.

Arthur didn’t strike him as the stoic type. He figured that the guy wasn’t bravely soldiering the pain with just a few grunts and whimpers… he just couldn’t be much louder; he was barely conscious. His eyes flashed down towards Mary. If she was worried about the continued status of Arthur’s beating heart, she didn’t show it.

“So, uh. How’s school been, Squirt?” Parker asked. He took a step closer, his eyes trained on his partner. “Makin’ friends? They let you in the morgue yet? I know a guy down there, y’know –”

“School’s going fine. I’m not going to meet your friend in the morgue.” The stitching began in earnest. Looked like delicate work. Parker had always been hopeless at stuff like that. If it couldn’t be bandaged, then he better pray for a quick ambulance… or a sister that’d just moved to town. “My roommates probably think my brother is crazy or a mobster.”

“Why are those the only two options?”

“Because you make too many jokes and only mobsters get sewed up at home.”

“That’s not true,” Parker complained. “Alright, there’s plenty of reasons –”

“Well, maybe not all of us are as well-versed in the underground of Arkham as you. Some of us don’t want anything to do with it.” Not a muscle twitched in Mary’s face, but yeah, Parker knew when his little sister was pissed. “Some of us were very lucky to be accepted into Miskatonic Medical, and some of us don’t want word to get around that we stitch up strange Englishmen in our living rooms.”

“Aw, c’mon, they wouldn’t kick you out for –”

“Suspected serial killers, then.”

Alright. That wasn’t exactly unfair. Arkham hadn’t been Mary’s first choice by a long shot, which could’ve been the motto for the city in general. It had just been the only place to accept her – both at all and into the medical program specifically, though there’d been plenty of ‘Aren’t you sure you’d rather be a nurse?’ nudges from the faculty.

“I’m sorry. I promise, I’ll make sure it won’t get out,” he said sympathetically. How, he didn’t know? But he’d figure it out, eventually. “I just…” He wasn’t going to admit that he got scared in front of his little sister, because there were certain aspects of the world he didn’t inflict on her. Like the idea that her big brother could get scared. “Didn’t know where else to go, you know? And I knew you were here, and I... I mean, he’s a good guy.”

“Is he?”

“Yeah. He’s –” Parker wanted to say ‘nice’, but that didn’t really describe Arthur Lester. ‘Funny’, sure, if you liked joking around the gallows. ‘Smart’, except when he pulled a bonehead mood, and like hell could Arthur Lester ever be described as friendly. ‘Temporarily sober’ was probably the best thing he could do, and even that was likely to change when Arthur lucid-ified up a bit.

Wait, no. He could think of something else. “He’s a good partner,” Parker said. “Determined.”

“That’s not something normal people used to describe each other.”

“He’s definitely not a normal person.”

“You used to be. Before…” Parker wasn’t sure if she put a little more pressure on Arthur’s stitches to get her point across, or because she’d reached a spot of thicker skin. It didn’t matter, anyway. Arthur’s eyelids fluttered weakly. Finally, she pulled away, and reached into the first aid kit for a bandage. “All this.”

Yeah. Yeah, he knew that. In his defense, being alive had been a lot less complicated before he started involving himself in other people’s business. Then he had started doing that, and Parker had experienced so much of how weird (and sad, and angry, and evil) people could be that he’d lost his sense of baseline.

It overwhelmed your life. Parker didn’t know where he ended and his work started, could never fully remove himself in any situation. And when you didn’t want to involve your little sister in that life, when you didn’t want to indoctrinate her into the cult of the almighty PI…

Well. Maybe he didn’t call as much as he should have.

When the bandage was finally affixed, Mary stood. There was more blood than he thought on her hands; with a final look of distaste, she retreated towards the kitchen.

Arthur made a noise.

“Hey, buddy,” he said cheerfully, reaching forward to pat his good shoulder. “You’re going to be okay. Alright? We’ll get you home, we’ll lay low for a couple of days, then we’ll figure it all out. You did good out there today, English.”

If Arthur appreciated the pep talk, he didn’t say it. Parker peeled one of his eyelids back and… well, that all seemed normal. He wondered if he’d have to carry Arthur into the office. Wouldn’t be the first time.

“Fixer.”

Mary stood in the doorway to the kitchen, drying her arms with a teatowel. Parker got up to join her. With every step, though, he kept his eye trained on Arthur Lester. Man, the guy really was out. “H-Hey, Squirt,” he asked nervously. His hand found the side of his neck to scratch at the sensitive skin. “He’s gonna be alright, yeah? He’s pale, but he’s not usually that pale –”

Two fingers pinched his chin, rotating his head around to face his little sister.

Definitely not happy. But, hey, if English was dying, then she’d probably look a little more mournful.

“Is this the only way I’m going to see you? Because you need someone sewn up?” Mary asked, jerking the teatowel in Arthur’s direction. “My big brother in the same city with me and he might as well be in China for all I hear from him.”

Jesus, she really did take after their mother in that way. Nerves still chewed at the wires in Parker’s body for reasons entirely unrelated to Arthur’s blood loss. “Aw, Squirt –”

“Don’t ‘aw, Squirt’ me. You have a dangerous job – you think we don’t talk about the violence in Arkham? I understand why you don’t want to talk about it. I don’t want to know why I have an Englishman bleeding on my chair. But don’t you think that’s all the more reason to call me?” The teatowel was whipped hard at him, making Parker jump – her aim on that thing had gotten a lot better since they were kids.

“I know, I know –”

“What if you get killed one day? Hm?” Mary asked him, her hands finding her hips. Parker could practically feel himself melting, shrinking until Mary towered underneath him. Jesus, what an older brother he was turning out to be. “What if I wake up one day and I see your obituary in the paper? Or get a call from the morgue to pick up your body? And I realize the last time I ever saw you was when your useless friend was bleeding in my apartment?”

Okay, Arthur wasn’t useless, but…

Parker bobbed his head up and down. He knew, he knew, he knew. It was just that the knowing seemed less urgent when he was away, head deep in a case. The knowing seemed plenty important when his little sister stared at him like he was a real asshole.

“I miss my big brother.” Ow – another strike from the tea towel. “Even when he’s being a jerk and forgetting I exist.”

“Hey, I never forget you exist, Squirt –”

“Prove it.”

“I think about you all the time,” he finished, but… yeah. Maybe that wasn’t enough, necessarily. Maybe Mary couldn’t tell whether he was thinking of her or not, maybe thinking about her wouldn’t mean a whole lot if he did bite the bullet one of these days. “Okay. What are you doing next weekend?”

“You have no idea what college is like, do you? Do you even know finals are coming up?”

“Sure, I know finals. Right afterwards is when I get my city back. Alright, Squirt, as soon as you fill out the last page on the exam – as soon you tell the professor what bones are in the little finger – “ Parker clapped his sister’s shoulders. “You and me are going out to lunch. My treat, to thank you for sewing up my pal. What do you say?”

Maybe Mary would’ve liked to make him boil and suffer a little more… but at the end of the day, Parker still saw her as the bright-eyed little girl that followed him around everywhere, and he hoped she still saw him as – god forbid – her cool older brother. Who’d walk her anywhere in the dark, who’d take on anyone who threatened her.

“Fine,” she said, her nose wrinkled. “Fine, yes, alright, okay.”

“Have I told you that you’re my favorite Yang?”

“You haven’t told me anything, asshole. Now –” She gestured towards the living room. “Go take your friend home. I mean it, finals are soon and I need to study.”

“You got it.” His normal stature resumed, Parker spun on his feet and clapped his hands together hard. Probably more louder than he needed, Parker boomed, “Art! Get up, we’re heading back home!”

It turned out that Arthur wasn’t as unconscious as he thought. Startled by the loud noise, Arthur woke with a shout. His left arm swung out at an invisible intruder, probably thinking he was about to get stabbed for a second time. “What – ! What, what, what…” He gasped out, breathing hard.

In the white of his bandage, Parker saw droplets of blood start to seep through.

Oh, shit.

“Fixer,” Mary grumbled, tossing the teatowel aside, “Do not bring your friend here again.”

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bitsandbobsofwriting · 3 years

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Merlin accidentally becomes Legolas/Katniss/Merida… you know the type;

He may be shitty at sword fighting, but Merlin begins to use a traditional bow and arrow and… actually becomes very good at it??

I imagine the first time he does it, it’s a complete fluke.

The five knights, The King, and Merlin are on their way back from yet another (frankly, ridiculous) quest.

They have been, of course, ambushed by a group of bandits, twenty to their six (six plus Merlin, though no one bar Lancelot knows about his magic, so he isn’t counted as a fighter). Though the knights outweigh them in skill, their sheer numbers makes it a… challenging, fight (meaning that they are winning, but far too slowly for their liking, and no one wants to admit it).

Now normally, Merlin hides behind a tree or in a ditch, and performs his spells quietly without being noticed, slowly helping and speeding up the fight. Except this time, the Gang was in the middle of a barren, open field, the bandits had disguised themselves with magic until the moment they attacked, and Merlin was right in the middle of all the action.

Everyone worried for his safety. There was nowhere for him to hide here, so they had to keep an eye on him, lest he get hurt (and Arthur sulked, or kicked off, depending on how badly he was hurt).

With nowhere to hide (and no branches to drop, or roots to trip people with), and one of the knights throwing a glance his way every ten seconds, he couldn’t use his magic.

He was currently on his hands and knees, Leon directly in front of him, Percival to his left, holding off four attackers between them (Merlin would marvel at how impressive that was if he weren’t otherwise preoccupied).

He keeps trying to get to Arthur, crawling between legs and over the groaning, injured bodies of bandits (he made a point to land sharp elbows and harsh knees into the more… sensitive areas), but with everyone moving around so rapidly, and the vicious swinging of swords and axes and maces inches above his head, he kept getting side-tracked and blocked and almost knocked out.

With a frustrated huff, he notices yet another bandit rounding on The King. Said huff turns into a pained gasp when he realises that Arthur hasn’t seen him yet.

The bandit raises his weapon in the air, seconds from bringing it down on Arthur’s back, but Leon is right there, and there are no branches to drop on him, and Arthur still hasn’t noticed!

The noise is too loud, grunts and yells and clashes of metal drowning out any sort of warning yell that Merlin could throw Arthur’s way, and he scrabbles around on the floor desperately; hands raking through sharp grass and over bloodied bodies as he stares in horror at the triumphant smirk on the future-King-killer’s face.

Time seems to slow (no magic, just adrenaline) as Merlin’s hands find purchase on a smooth, curved piece of wood. He picks it up without looking, at first intending to throw whatever it is as hard as he can in the bandits direction, before something (magic, instincts, periphery vision, who knows) tells him to look down.

He obeys, and widens his eyes as he sees the longbow gripped tightly in his right hand, and a stray arrow on the floor next to his left.

Merlin is no expert, only having actually hunted once or twice back home in Ealdor, when he was younger, but that was just enough knowledge for him to know roughly how to notch the arrow and fire. He pulls the two up quickly, a plan formulating in his head:

Step 1) Notch arrow.

Step 2) Close eyes.

Step 3) Magic? Hope?

Step 4) Come up with some sort of lie that explains how he managed to make the shot from sixty yards away, through a crowd.

Thankfully, it would appear that Merlin’s bad luck has given him a rest today; the first three steps go off without a hitch (the fourth will come a little later, when the battle is over), but he doesn’t have time to congratulate himself before he’s thrown into the fray, the bandits now obviously seeing him as some sort of threat.

Arthur finally defeats his own attackers, looking behind him in shock to see his unknown enemy lying on the floor, gurgling up blood and grasping weakly at the arrow through his neck. His head whips to the side, trying to find whoever had made the shot; his bewildered gaze meets Merlin’s for only a second before the servant is dragged to his feet, and promptly punched in the face.

He stumbles back and can just about hear Leon yell something from beside him but he pays it no mind, righting his balance once again and swinging his arm back, before bringing it down harshly on his newest attackers head. The resounding crack echoes over the field as the wood of the longbow splits in two on the bandit’s skull, and he drops like a sack of potatoes.

The fight doesn’t last much longer, each knight taking advantage of their enemies' fatigue, and Merlin using his now broken longbow to whack them in the shins or trip them up when they weren’t paying attention.

He was sad to see it broken, but two of his closest friends literally owned a blacksmith's, and he had easy access to the Castle’s armoury; he could get a hold of another one easily enough, as long as he survived the journey back home.

The battle finally came to a close. Everyone was exhausted, and each of them was sporting more than one hefty bruise, but they were all alive and there were no serious injuries, so they could be grateful for that. After Arthur had counted his men, and generally taken stock of things, he traipsed tiredly over to Merlin, who had abandoned his broken bow in favour of cleaning a still weeping cut on Elyan’s temple.

“Didn’t know you had it in you, Merlin.”

The servant ignores him at first, biting his lip in concentration as he carefully wipes the grime away from the wound. It was small, so an infection wouldn’t be too worrying, but it wouldn’t be comfortable and would make the scarring worse, so best to avoid it if at all possible. He hums in satisfaction as he leans back on his heels, Elyan gives him a grateful smile, and Merlin finally throws a glance Arthur’s way, before focusing back on threading the needle in his hands; it would only need two or three stitches, thankfully:

“Hmm. I'm not fond of hunting, but we had to for food back in Ealdor. Except we didn’t have fancy crossbows or hunting dogs, so we had to make do with hand-whittled longbows.”

Arthur nods, frowning slightly:

“Still, if I’d known you were that good, I would’ve demanded you had a bow of your own; that way us lot wouldn’t have to spend so much time making sure you don’t get yourself killed.”

Merlin smirked and quirked an eyebrow, but doesn’t look away from Elyan’s stitches, whispering an apology at the man’s wince before he speaks slowly, concentrating:

“Careful Sire, that almost sounded like a compliment.”

Elyan snorts out a laugh, but Merlin tuts and lightly slaps his leg disapprovingly, and he stills again. Arthur rolls his eyes with a huff:

“As if. Hurry up, I want to get moving as soon as possible.”

Arthur wasn’t the only one that noticed Merlin’s outstanding shot, and over the course of the next few day’s journey home, he received a multitude of compliments from the other knights.

Including an hour long excited infodump about the history and use of longbows from Leon, which Merlin eagerly hung onto every word of, a fond smile on his face (Leon was a noble, and had it practically beaten into him to not ramble, so Merlin always did his best not to discourage the man. That, and the fact that it was actually very interesting, and useful, if he were to keep up this charade that he was an expert marksman).

When Merlin finally had a moment alone with Lancelot, a few days after they had gotten back, he burst:

“Please please tell me you know how to use a longbow??”

Lancelot raises his eyebrow from where he was sat on the bed in Merlin’s room. Merlin was staring at him with unconcealed desperation, and the knight chuckled as he answered:

“Why? It’s not like you need any more training, that was a cracking shot.”

Merlin huffed loudly, running his hands through his hair as he looked back at the knight:

“I used magic!! I closed my eyes so no one would see and I guided the arrow with magic! Now everyone thinks I’m some master marksman! This is bad. What if next time I can’t use magic, or what if someone notices that I have my eyes closed when I fire?”

Lancelot clamps a hand over his mouth in a poor attempt to stop himself from giggling, but he gives up quickly, bursting into laughter at the younger man’s panic. Said younger man fumes, sputtering as he picks up one of the knight’s discarded boots and throws it at him:

“It’s not funny, Lance! I’m being serious, this is an actual issue!”

Lancelot calms himself, rubbing the mirth from his eyes as he takes a deep breath:

“Ok ok, sorry. Yes, I can teach you to use a longbow properly. Have you ever actually used one before, or was the hunting thing a cover?”

The red fades from Merlin’s face slightly as he realises the other man is intending to help him, his panic lessening:

“Sort of. Yeah, I went hunting with a bow a couple times, but not enough to be that good at it.”

Lancelot sighs fondly and nods his head:

“Well, that’s a start at least. Come on, I’ve not got patrol until after dinner, and Arthur thinks you’re busy helping Gaius, so we’ve got a few hours.”

So I imagine that’s how it goes for a while.

After their last big adventure, Arthur was reluctant to head out as a group again, wanting to give everyone time to recuperate and get back into the swing of things.

Merlin’s skills with a bow were bought up constantly by everyone, news had even reached Gwen (who gave him a proud smile and a cute little dance to congratulate him) and Gaius (who raised an eyebrow, and had much better skill than Lancelot at holding in his laughter).

Gwaine, Elyan, and even Percival were desperate to set up targets and watch him shoot shit (their words), Leon wanted to talk about the specifics of technique and crafting, and Arthur... well. Arthur sounded like he was taking the piss, but there was something else in his tone that Merlin couldn’t quite pinpoint.

Affection? Pride?

Probably not, probably jealousy and annoyance that Merlin is so effortlessly good at something that Arthur himself was average at at best.

Merlin manages to avoid it for a while, showing his “skills” off, but he and Lancelot are running out of excuses, and Arthur is starting to accuse him of being a fake who got lucky. Normally, things like that didn’t bother Merlin, and technically Arthur wasn’t wrong... he had got lucky, and cheated with magic, but that wasn’t the point. It was nice for Merlin, to be good at something, really good.

He was good at plenty of other things. Magic for starters, though not even Lancelot knew the full extent of his power in that area. But he cooked well (shown by the fact that the knights always scoffed the lot), he was a good physician (shown by the fact that the knights trusted him just as much as Gaius when it came to treating injuries and sickness), and he was a BRILLIANT servant, if he did say so himself.

But he never got any actual praise for that. Merlin hated to think badly of the knights, his friends, but they only complained when Merlin wasn’t there, never praised him when he was. Well, apart from Lancelot. And that had just started a bunch of rumours that they were... uh... boinking.

(False. Anyone with more than two braincells could see that Sir Lancelot was head over heals in love with the newly-promoted Housekeeper, Guinevere, and that The King’s Manservant had an affinity for certain a blond prat-King.)

ANYWAY

It was nice for Merlin to have a skill that others thought worth complimenting, and with Lancelot monitoring his practice sessions, correcting any mistakes and offering congratulations whenever he did well, he hoped it wouldn’t be too long before he no longer had to come up with excuses.

Luckily, Merlin picked it up very quickly.

Despite being clumsy by nature (though Lancelot is starting to suspect more and more that it’s all for show), the dark haired servant can consistently hit bullseyes from fifty yards within a month. The further away from the target he got, the less astounding his aim was, but that was to be expected, and another month later he could successfully hit a moving target from seventy feet.

A training session, around three months after he started properly practicing, he finally “gave in” to Gwaine’s begging. Lancelot helped him set up a bunch of targets, and fetched a bag of apples to throw.

Merlin put on quite the show, grinning at the uproarious applause he got from the knights when he hit every single bullseye, and every single thrown target. Thankfully the knowing, proud smiles between the servant and Sir Lancelot went unnoticed, and even Arthur gave him a clap on the back and an impressed nod.

The first time Merlin met the knights in the courtyard to find Leon holding a longbow and quiver of arrows out to him, he panicked slightly, but one reassuring smile from Lancelot boosted his confidence, and he took them with a quiet thank you.

(After the fifth time, Arthur huffed, and told him to just keep them. He was the only one that regularly signed them out of the armoury anyway, so it would just be easier if he just took possession of them.)

It settled everyone’s stomachs, knowing that not only did the group have a master marksmen, hiding in the trees and taking out enemies that they didn’t see coming, but that Merlin personally now had more than his frankly horrifying (or... horrifying as far as they were concerned) stealth skills to keep him safe.

And that (a master marksmen in the trees) is exactly what happened.

In the early days, it involved a lot of bruises; Merlin could fire well, but firing and balancing at the same time? Took some getting used to, and involved a lot of falling out of trees at inopportune times.

The knights, Gwaine and Arthur especially, laughed endlessly at that, but quickly stopped after a particularly tired and irate and bruised Merlin fired an arrow so close by Gwaine’s crotch, that it stuck his trousers fast into the tree just behind him.

At first, it was meant to be just as back-up; Merlin was no knight. He still refused to wear armour, and Arthur didn’t want his manservant to make himself a target... at least that was his excuse.

Really, it was because (as far as Arthur was aware) Merlin had never deliberately killed before. Even now, years into his Kingship, and even longer into his knighthood, Arthur hated killing; it made him sick, and took a lot of practice at compartmentalization before it no longer bothered him as much.

Merlin was his manservant, his (best) friend, the love of his life (secretly). He was not a warrior, he was not meant to kill, he was meant to be protected from that.

But alas, Merlin did not get the memo, and the first patrol he went on with his bow and quiver slung over his shoulder, he killed at least five bandits.

After the fight, it was Leon who approached him first, a concerned look on his face despite Merlin’s nonchalant expression as he checked over the string for wear and tear:

“Are you feeling alright, Merlin? You got a few good shots in there, you’re not feeling sick?”

Merlin looked up at the hand on his shoulder and the soft words, a confused look on his face:

“Why would being good make me feel sick?”

Leon tilts his head in sympathy, which just makes Merlin even more confused:

“The man you killed the other month was spur of the moment, protecting your King. But you... you killed a fair few men today, Merlin. I know that can be incredibly difficult at first, I just wanted to check in.”

The others had finally walked over to join them; Percival, Elyan, Gwaine, and Arthur looking equally concerned, whilst Lancelot hid his proud smile. Merlin just raised an eyebrow at them:

“You seem to be under the impression that I’ve never killed anyone before?”

Everyone (bar Lancelot) looks taken aback at that, and Arthur frowns whilst Leon drops his hand in shock. The King speaks slowly:

“Merlin, are you telling us you’ve killed people before?”

The manservant clenches his jaw at that and looks back down at his bow, resuming his checking of the string and its knots. He speaks lowly, and the knights can tell it’s not a topic he’s fond of:

“Hmm. It’s a tough world, Sire. I’ve done what I had to, to keep myself and the people I care about safe.”

At his dark reply, conversation stopped, and didn’t resume for the rest of the day as everyone contemplated Merlin’s words.

That is, until he was the first one to successfully catch dinner later that evening. At which he got an incredulous look from Arthur when he made it back to camp with his half of the patrol:

“I thought you despised hunting??”

Merlin didn’t look up from the hares he was skinning, and the rest of the knights tuned in, curious:

“No. I hate hunting for sport; it shows hubris and cruelty. Hunting for food is not only necessary and natural, but humbling, if you do it right and honour every part of the creature.”

Arthur, ever the eloquent one, stared at him blankly, and said, rather dumbly:

“...What?”

Merlin huffed, finally looking up:

“Going after helpless animals on horseback with crossbows and hunting dogs is like giving yourself a huge pat on the back for winning a tournament against an unarmoured, unarmed, unconscious opponent, and then calling yourself strong and brave for daring to fight in the first place. It’s an egotistical act of violence for no other reason than cruelty for the sake of cruelty.-”

The knights looks on him with shock, Percival and Leon at least having the decency to look a little ashamed. Merlin looks back down to the hares, and everyone notices the careful way he cuts at the fur:

“I’ve taken these lives to feed us as a necessity. The meat will be eaten, but that isn’t all. I’ll take the bones home for Gaius, the marrow is useful in a lot of medicine. The fur can be repurposed for winter gloves or socks. The organs and other bits that we won’t eat: I’ll take for the pigs in the farms, or the dogs up at the castle. In using every part of them we are... honouring them, in a way. As a thank-you for their... sacrifice.”

Arthur looks a little dumbfounded. As royalty, he of course had never really considered the waste that comes about with hunting, but Merlin, a farm-boy from a rural village who barely scraped by every winter? Of course he saw a deeper meaning in hunting. He would have to.

Elyan is the first to break the silence:

“You almost sound religious, Merlin.”

Merlin looks up at him, a strained smile on his face. As magic incarnate, he has a particularly strong, temperamental relationship with nature and her creatures, a bond that some might call faith. To be wasteful or cruel in any way hurts him in more ways than one:

“Not really, I just have respect for nature, is all.”

No one mentions the thinly-veiled insult, but everyone creeps closer, wanting to see the way he disassembles the creatures for future reference.

It’s been eight months since that first, perfect shot.

Merlin’s skills with a longbow had become a normal, expected part of The Gang’s experiences, but the knights never stopped praising and thanking him when he saved their lives (something that Merlin still hadn’t quite gotten used), and The King had apparently not stopped thinking about it for barely more than a second.

Yule was approaching quickly: Merlin, Gwen, and the Steward being constantly busy with preparations in the castle, the knights being run off their feet escorting emergency aid to the border villages for the harsh winter, and Arthur himself having every minute of the day taken up with speech writing, invite sending, and his other general King-during-Yule duties.

That however, was all to be expected, and of course did nothing to keep Arthur and Merlin from their annual traditions.

It wasn’t official, it wasn’t even spoken of, but the last evening of Yule, the night before the new year, the two of them always spent together.

The last feast of the year would finish, Arthur would stay to see his guests off, thank the staff for all of their hard work, and finally retire to his chambers, his tired manservant barely a hair’s breadth behind him. They would sit in front of the lit hearth (in comfy chairs that only they used), work their way through a jug or two of wine, exchange small gifts, and fall asleep in front of the fire. Their hands, dangling over the side of their chairs, seem to be creeping closer and closer with each passing year; though have yet to become entangled by morning.

This year was somehow no different, and very different, at the same time.

The King and his Manservant settled in their chairs, tired and already a little more than tipsy from the wine drunk during the feast. Arthur looked up at Merlin, the fond smile dropping from his face when he sees the other man’s features pulled into a contemplative frown:

“What’s on your mind, Merls? I don’t think I’ve seen you this serious since the start of the celebrations.”

Merlin looked up at him suddenly, his eyes wide, but he smiles and shakes his head:

“Nothing, nothing. Just thinking is all.”

Normally, Arthur would raise an eyebrow and let a scathing tease on the state of Merlin’s intelligence fall from his lips, but not tonight. This is the only night of the year that The King allows himself to entertain the idea that perhaps he and Merlin were more than friends, or at least could be. So instead he resumes his smiling, and looks back to the fire, taking another sip of his wine before responding softly:

“What about?”

Merlin hums, copying Arthur’s wine-sipping, before taking a deep breath:

“The future, mostly. You, me, Camelot. Secrets and truths, and when one might turn into the other. Soon, I think... yeah. Soon.”

Arthur huffs slightly in amusement. He knows that Merlin hides a great deal of himself, but he always becomes more cryptic after a few glasses of wine, like he desperately wants to say something and doesn’t have the power to stop himself from hinting at whatever it may be.

He asks his next question good-naturedly, a smile sweetened by wine gracing his face:

“The hell does that mean?”

Merlin lets out a short laugh, looking up at the other man:

“Oh, you know. Thinking about spilling all my deepest darkest secrets to you, at some point soon.”

Arthur snorts, saying, only for the sake of keeping up the charade they’ve built:

“You don’t have any secrets, Merlin. Certainly not any that are deep or dark.”

Once, Arthur would have believed that. Then, when he stopped believing it, he was angry about it, and now? Now, he finds he doesn’t mind so much. He is confident, he has faith, in both himself and in Merlin. He knows that those secrets are there, and Merlin knows that he knows, but that’s ok. Nothing either of them could reveal would tear them apart, at least not for long, so Arthur was happy to wait until Merlin was happy to share.

Merlin chuckled at Arthur’s response, shaking his head slightly before reaching down and picking up a small wrapped parcel that he’d stowed away before the feast:

“Come on, I’m a little nervous about your gift this year, so let’s get it over and done with.”

Arthur nodded, accepting the change in subject, and set his wine down so he could pick up the (much bigger) parcel by his own chair.

Merlin raised an eyebrow, but didn’t say anything. After the first gift-exchange happened, Merlin had put his foot down and made Arthur swear to not go overboard on the expense side of things. Arthur may have been a prince, and now a King, but Merlin was still just a servant/physician; he could hardly afford anything worthy of a King.

He had a feeling that Arthur might’ve broken his word this year, but where Arthur had likely gone overboard with expense, Merlin had definitely gone overboard with sentimentality.

They swapped parcels, Merlin placing the large, heavy box carefully at his feet as he gestured Arthur to open his first. Arthur got to it, tearing the paper off without a second of hesitation, and Merlin allowed himself to smile fondly at the child-like excitement on the blonde’s face.

Arthur’s brow creased as he dropped the paper to the floor, stroking soft fingers over the worn leather of an old, well-loved book. Merlin took deep, fortifying breaths as Arthur carefully opened the first few pages, butterflies in his stomach as Arthur’s eyes wandered the yellowed paper in curiosity.

The King looked up at him, amused confusion on his face as he asked:

“Is this yours? I didn’t know you could draw, Merlin.”

Merlin gulped, and shook his head as memories of the exquisite sketches filled his mind; detail-perfect renditions of the castle, the town square, waterfalls and knights in action and people that Merlin didn’t recognise (for the most part. Arthur evidently hadn’t gotten to any of the pages with young Uther on them).

“No, not mine. This one requires a little explanation-”

Arthur nodded, carefully closing the book and holding it protectively in his lap as he gave Merlin his undivided attention:

“-I mentioned off-handedly to Leon a few months ago that I thought the lack of... of paintings of the late Queen in the castle was odd.-”

Arthur gulped at the mention of his mother, but nodded with a small smile when Merlin paused:

“-He said that when she passed, The King had everything to do with her moved to the vaults. He couldn’t force himself to destroy any of it, but looking at it, day in and day out, was too painful. We found the keys, with the help of Geoffrey, and went down to have a look, see what we could find. We didn’t tell you about it because we didn’t want to disappoint you, in case we couldn’t find anything.-”

Merlin once again looked a little nervous at this, and reached a hand out towards Arthur. When the man didn’t flinch away (if anything, he leaned into it), he moved to grip his shoulder blade, running his thumb over the exposed skin at the base of The King’s neck.

“-We found... a lot. Old clothes and paintings mainly, some jewellery. But then I found that;-”

He nodded at the book in Arthur’s lap, and tightened his grip on his shoulder. Merlin spoke his next words so quietly that Arthur almost doesn’t hear him, a soft smile on his face:

“-your mother was quite the artist, Arthur. I knew you had to have it.”

Arthur gasped softly, his eyes widening as he looked down at the book:

“You... you think my mother drew these?”

Merlin smiled at him, moving his hand to squeeze Arthur’s wrist slightly, before dropping it entirely:

“Check the back page.”

Arthur took a deep breath before doing what Merlin said, handling the book with even more care than he had before now that he knows who it belonged to. He turned to the very last page, to see an inscription written in beautiful cursive. Merlin recited it aloud, having memorised the words weeks ago:

“My dearest son, my silly sketches are able to hold only a fraction of our Kingdom’s beauty. I know one day that you will see what I see, treasure it just as much, and make it your own. You have my support, forever and always, your loving Mother.”

Arthur bites his lip harshly, lifting the book to press his forehead against the words as he shuts his eyes tightly, though that does nothing to stop the tears. Merlin replaces his hand on The King’s shoulder as the man shakes. He sniffles slightly, putting the book back in his lap, though keeping his hands wrapped around it securely, as he looks to Merlin:

“Merlin, I... I don’t even know what to say. This is... amazing. I... Thank you.”

Merlin smiles, shaking his head slightly:

“Technically, it wasn’t even mine to give, it’s always been yours. But I thought it might make a nice surprise. There’s plenty of other stuff down there, I’ll show you in the morning.”

Arthur nods his head, wiping his tears as he carefully places the book on his side table and gestures to the box at Merlin’s feet. He was itching to scour through the book, dedicating every single line to memory, but whilst Merlin had been nervous about Arthur’s gift, Arthur was buzzing about Merlin’s, and he was desperate to see the man’s reaction.

Merlin huffs out a laugh, but picks the box up, noting once again how heavy it is. He sets about removing the paper, much calmer and more methodical than Arthur had been, with his face pinched in concentration.

He frowns in curiosity as he sets eyes on the wooden box. It had a hinged lid, and a logo that he’s certain he recognises burned like a brand into the corner. He can feel Arthur bouncing in his chair slightly, and looks up at him in amusement, laughing once again when he nods excitedly back down at the box.

He lifts the lid, and takes in a shocked breath.

Inside was a beautifully crafted long bow; the wood smooth and varnished and carved, and a leather quiver. The patterns embossed in the leather and carved in to the metal at the base, match those carved into the wood of the bow, and Merlin traces soft fingers over the intricate swirls, stopping with a teary smile at the Pendragon crest, carved just next to a Merlin bird.

He lets out a breath he hadn’t even realised he’d been holding as he looks up at the excited King:

“Arthur this is beautiful. Gods I almost don’t want to touch it, I feel like it should be on display behind glass.”

Arthur lets out a laugh, obviously pleased with Merlin’s reaction:

“Nope. It will be going with you every time you leave the city, and considering how much trouble we always seem to attract, I have no doubt that it will see a lot of use.”

Merlin laughs, closing the lid carefully and setting the box back on the floor, before launching himself bodily at Arthur. The blonde laughs, wrapping his arms around Merlin’s middle with no hesitation as the other man mutters endless thank-yous in his ear.

The servant finally pulls back, settling in his own chair again, and the two of them hope that the other puts the flush on their face down to the wine, and nothing else. They look to each other with wide grins on their faces, and Arthur breaks the stare first, taking another gulp of his wine before laughing jovially and speaking:

“Well. Here’s to an amazing year, and hopefully an even better one, starting in a few minutes.”

Merlin nods, lifting his own goblet to tap it against Arthur’s:

“Here’s to the past, that guides us-”

He gestures to the book on Arthur’s table:

“-and the future, that calls to us.”

He gestures to his new bow, and they both finish their wine off, a healthy flush to their cheeks and fond smiles on their faces.

They fall asleep in their respective chairs, the same as every year.

In the morning, they wake with pounding headaches, a promise of a golden future, and hands intertwined.

THE END!!

We love a cutesy/hopeful ending😌

Like always lads, you wanna write it out in full, go for it, credit and tag me✌️

Head over to This List to see what I’m working on next, and cast your vote!

1K notes · View notes

charliedawn · 3 years

Text

What is their reaction when they find out that they may have grown attached to you ?

You know how Jason can be very insecure and self-conscious ? Well. Prepare for a whole new level. He will check himself in the mirror when you're not looking, and if he doesn't like what he is seeing ? He will smash the mirror and go in a corner to sit and move back and forth, to give himself some reassurance. He still remembers what his mother used to tell him.

" Persons are a nuisance, Jason. You don't need them to survive."

But then, why does he feel like he needs you ? He feels conflicted as to what to believe.

Super jumpy ! He will jump almost every time you touch him or lose his grip of the things he is holding, often ending broken and splattered on the floor. He would be as clumsy as Jason and would want you to spend more time with him. However, he would also be scared of you breaking his heart.

" I..I c..care.."

Like many of your patients, Brahms has trouble finding his words. At first, many thought he was mute, like Jason or Michael. This is why hearing him speak to you always means it is important.

" I..I care.."

He wants to say many things, how he cherishes every moment you spend together, how you make his heart race everytime you are near him or how he wants you to be by his side forever..But, he can't. He can just hope that what he feels can be expressed through eye contact. You may not understand what he wants to say, but you still try to understand. You put your hand on his and reply with a compassionate smile.

" I care about you too. You are a very good friend, Brahms.."

Did you just indirectly friendzone him ? Possibly..You walk out and Brahms sighs before sitting on his bed while hugging his doll to comfort him.

" You turn me on."

He will be absolutely frank about it. He will just step up and tell you in front of anyone. He doesn't give a damn if the others hear him as well. Also, creep alert, will watch you sleep. He will sneak in your bedroom in the middle of the night and just look at you sleep. He wants to touch you so bad, but he knows that that would wake you up. And he doesn't want that. He will just admire you from afar, even pretend that you may like him back. He would just want to get close to you, to look at you and wonder what you may be dreaming about..hoping that you are dreaming of him.

" Oh my sweet..You look so perfect when you sleep.."

Now..You know how Five is very serious about his relationship with Dolores ? Well, you better be prepared by lots of imaginary fights between the two of them, and even a break-up ! *gasp* Drama. He would be in a very bad mood and would scream and attack everyone that approaches his personal space. He would also smash everything in his room. Like, everything. So much that the other nurses would be too scared of him and ask you to handle it.

" Hey. Are you okay, Five ? Did something happen ?"

He would snort and look up at you with visible frustration.

" You happened. Dolores and I broke up. Not that she was one to share her feelings anyway."

You frown in incomprehension before asking with a small airy laugh.

" I don't understand, what does that have to do with me ?"

Your question seems to trigger a nerve and he suddenly stands up to look at you dead in the eye with anger and, somehow, pain..

" Everything ! You're too nice ! Too forgiving ! Too perfect ! You wiped our past as if it was nothing, goddammit ! We're serial killers, Y/N! We're monsters and you treat us as if we were..as if we were.."

He doesn't get to finish that sentence as he seems on the verge of tears. He jumps on his bed to sit and hide his face behind his knees. You seem to finally understand the problem and sigh before sitting next to Five.

" It's okay to have feelings, Five. You can't hide them forever. I'm sorry if it upsets you but, I don't think you're all that bad. Sure, you kill and even eat people. But, I've seen you change. You are a lot less violent and a few more months ? And I'm sure you'll be out of here in no time."

He looks up at you again with a sort of desperation, very uncharacteristic of Five, before finally asking in a tearful voice.

" What if..What if I don't want to go back ? Out there, I'm just a freak. But, here ? I got.."

He doesn't finish his sentence, but you guess what he is going to say and smile understandingly.

"..Friends ?"

He doesn't answer, he only suddenly hugs you tightly and hides his face in your skirt. You hesitate before slowly petting the top of his head affectionately. The gesture seems to relax him, but he quickly straightens up and wipes his tears away. He then stands up and apologizes.

" I..I'm sorry, it was highly inappropriate of me. I'll..I'll let you work."

Before you could say anything, he runs out of the room and leaves you confused and worried.

Lots of uncontrollable laughter. More than usual. He is very nervous when you're around him and sometimes cries while laughing, showing that he is deeply ashamed of his condition. He is very bipolar and will sometimes act very casually around you, only to break into tears when you leave the room. He will stare at you and turn his gaze away as soon as you would notice.

" Well, would you look at that ? Sir Sh*tty the clown seems to have a little crush on the nice nurse.."

Pennywise would tease him about it while Penny cackles behind him. Arthur glares at them both before either ignoring them or leaving the room.

No. Nope. Certainly not. He will try to hide from you. He knows very well what he is feeling, and also what happens to the people he feels this way towards. He just managed to get rid of his curse, he is not about to risk getting on a murder rampage again ! Every time he would see you, he would pretend to be busy or hide. One time, he even jumped out the window to get away from you. It is very odd since Michael is normally the most chill and calm out of all the patients. But one look at you ? And he becomes a panicking mess. He has to get away. He doesn't want to hurt you like he hurt everyone else close to him, like he hurt his family..

" Me ? Having feelings ? Ah !"

One word: denial. He doesn't want to hear about things like feelings. He saved you ? Bah. It was only because he was bored. He will deny everything, but still follow you and pop up out of nowhere to see what you're doing. He enjoys talking to you, even if he doesn't want to admit it.

" Pennywise..You're staring again."

Penny would gently warn him as his big brother would pretend to not have done such a thing.

" Can't an old clown appreciate to look at nice things sometimes ?"

Penny frowns, not understanding his big brother's words until Freddy intervenes by popping next to him with a huge grin.

" Let it go, kid. Your big bro is just too much of a chicken to go talk to her.."

Pennywise growls in annoyance at Freddy before raising his middle finger at him.

" F*ck off Freddy ! At least I don't watch her sleep like a total perv !"

That would result in a fight that you would have to break. Again..

" Pennywise..I think I'm sick.."

Pennywise would admit some day to Pennywise that would sigh in annoyance.

" Stop saying stupid sh*t. You know very well that we can't be sick."

But, upon seeing the devastated face of his brother, Pennywise sighs loudly before turning towards him to focus his whole attention on him.

" Fiiinnneee...Tell me."

Penny's mood seems to lit up as his brother seems to be willing to listen to him.

" OK, so it concerns the nurse, Y/N. Everytime they are near me, I feel things in my stomach, like a million kids were kicking me in there..Everytime they touch me, I feel as if a part of me in my chest is about to burst and I feel warm, very very warm. And then, I feel very very bad when they talk to anyone else..It's horrible. I want it to stop..Should I eat them ?"

Pennywise stays silent for a while before saying with an unusual straight face.

" Penny.."

He starts, but Penny starts panicking as he sees the sour look on his brother's face.

" Oh ! It's bad, isn't it ?! What is it ?! How long do I have ?!"

Pennywise rolls his eyes dramatically at his brother's exaggerated reaction before cutting him off in his worried questions.

" Shut up, you idiot ! You're not dying. You're just feeling.."things" for them."

Penny stops talking and frowns in confusion, his eyes diverging in deep concentration, as if trying to understand Pennywise's words.

" Things ?! What things ?!"

He finally asks with his eyes wide open in obvious loss and Pennywise face-palms himself before answering with a loud sigh.

" You're falling in love, you dumb f*ck !"

At the word, Penny's face freezes and his smile goes downwards as he realizes that his older brother is right.

" Oh, sh*t.."

He curses and Pennywise frowns, as Penny hates curses.

" Language ! I'm the only one allowed to use curses, remember ?!"

Penny nods before asking in a worried tone.

" How do I get rid of it ? I don't like it.."

Pennywise can't help but feel sorry for Penny, as he knew better than anyone that there was no turning back..

" I'm sorry kid. But if it's really love ? You can't..like I can't.."

Penny's eyes widen at his brother's confession.

" You..You..love her too ?"

Pennywise seems to realize what he just said and groans before walking away. He didn't want anyone to know, even though Penny is his brother. Penny understands the wish of his brother to be left alone and starts walking out in the garden to think over what his older brother said..Could it be ? Could he really be falling in love ?

Bonus : The deal

The Horde is blindfolded and dragged to another room where a man and a woman are waiting for them. At first look, he can already tell that this man is one of the unworthy. The unbroken. The weak..His interest is cut short and he then turns towards the woman sitting next to him. Now, this one was interesting..Her eyes betrayed a much deeper complexity and she had a scar running from her forehead to her left cheek that proved she was worthy.

" You..You are broken. Rejoice.."

The woman smiles, but before she could start talking, her partner does it for her.

" Mister Wendell Crumb, we have a mission for you."

But Kevin only grits his teeths at the man.

" You are impure..I want to kill you.."

The man arks an eyebrow, but ignores his threat.

" Fine. Whatever. But first, I want you to be my spy. We didn't get you out of this prison for nothing, mister Wendell Crumb. We want you to be our little spy in the facility. We want you to find out how a certain miss L/N managed to control the patients outside of the facility. Do that, and you'll be as free as a bird..Do we have a deal ?"

He frowns, they wanted him to spy on a nurse ? She must be quite special for them to go to such lengths, to use him as a spy..Yes, quite the unique prey. The Beast was already impatient and Kevin licks his lips before nodding.

" Fine, but on one condition. When you're finished with her, I get to eat her heart.."

The request seems to take the man aback, but it is the lady that Kevin is looking at. She smiles coldly before nodding in agreement.

" Deal."

Kevin finally smiles widely and can't help the excited giggle that gets out from deep within him. Then, the dark and low voice of the beast makes itself heard as the smile grows almost ferocious as he announces. .

" Let the hunt begin.."

#fandoms #fanfic #imagine #slashers #pennywise 1990 #pennywise 1990 x y/n x pennywise 2017 #pennywise 2017 #pennywise x reader #brahms heelsire x reader #number five x reader #arthur x reader #the joker x reader #jason voorhees x reader #michael myers x reader #freddy krueger x reader

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dalekofchaos · 3 years

Text

It wasn’t all Micah’s fault, Dutch is as much to blame.

A lot of people seem to think that Micah being the rat is what led to the fall of the Van der Linde gang. While it’s true that Micah is partly to blame. But Micah would not have an opportunity if it were not for Dutch’s vanity and pride.

Dutch is the classic delusional leader seen in many stories, novels. His fantasies become more real with each day, battle and somehow they think fortune is right around the corner. Like a gambler chasing the eternal big pot. No amount of money would ever be enough. It wasn't about money. It's was about the chase, the illusion of victory that never comes.

In Chapter 6 is when this all becomes more apparent. A switch went off in Dutch's mind, in Ch6. This wasn't the way HIS story was supposed to happen. Not to HIM. He's freaking Don Quixote, madman fighting knights in his mind and being a hero. It's fucking beautiful character writing and story arc for him.

Dutch has a discarded speech draft in horseshoe overlook that shows he’s always been a self-obsessed politician in context of the gang. He crosses out every line of humility and replaces it with narcissistic martyrdom, and avoids ever giving his audience a moment to question him or the path they’re on. He wants control over people so he can use them to realize his ambitions, and every book he reads in camp has a similar motif that explains why he thinks that way.

There are conversations between Lenny and Dutch, too. Lenny is not a fan of Evelyn Miller and tells Dutch why. Dutch is blind to the criticism. This speaks volumes about the two characters. This conversation made me realize that Dutch is used to peddling his philosophy to people who are not as well read as him; the moment he has to defend his ideas to someone more intelligent he gets defensive and angry. Because he isn't searching for a debate; he's searching for affirmation.

Everyone loves to paint Dutch and Hosea as the perfect partners and even ship them in a gay way. But Dutch doesn’t respect Hosea? Also Hosea was a happily married man. They're supposed to be partners, but he certainly doesn't treat him like one. He doesn't listen to him, he yells at him when he's doubting, coughing or in pain, and he makes him sleep on the cold, hard, dirty ground. He even openly ignores him in Colter, in front of the other men, and rides off when he tries to stop him from robbing Cornwall's train. I'm not saying they don't have a rich history or good moments, but it's a toxic relationship at best. Not exactly something worth praising. If you don't believe me, you can find unique dialogues as the game progresses, verifying he’s lost all faith in Dutch. To the point that he even starts telling other members to leave. Abigail, John, Arthur, Lenny, Tilly, Sadie -- he tells all of them to leave. During a dominoes game we played together he even said, "Maybe it's just me, but Dutch seems to be getting more and more unhinged." And as early as chapter one he told Arthur, "Try to stop Dutch getting all of you killed, because I'm about beginning to think he's finally lost his mind." There are also other conversations where Hosea’s disappointment with Dutch is far more blatant. He basically tells Arthur he’s been disillusioned for a while and wishes the gang would change, but when Arthur asks what they’d do instead of thieving, Hosea says, “I don’t know. I never knew. Guess I could never figure that out, neither.” By this point he’s just so dejected and defeatist because he knows Dutch won’t listen to him. He also goes on a whole tirade about how they’ve become “nothing but a bunch of killers”, which breaks his heart, and during a random campfire encounter he bares his soul and flat out tells the gang he no longer believes in Dutch’s “we’re above the law” philosophy. I feel like Dutch is glad Hosea was killed because the biggest doubter and thorn in his side was taken care of.

I mean this is what Hosea feels about the majority of Dutch’s plans

The moment John put his family as a priority, Dutch saw this as a threat and has been paranoid about John ever since.

He tried to play the Grays, Braithewaites and Bronte the same way he’s used Arthur, Hosea, John, Bill, Javier, and even his women like Molly, Susan and Annabelle. To Dutch, people are just set pieces in his life. He cares for them and wants them to love him, but it’s only because he’s a narcissist that needs their support to make himself stronger.

He never snapped or went crazy or turned. The Dutch that drowned Bronte is the same Dutch that had always been there. He was frustrated that he did not have the upper hand on somebody, that someone had played him the same way he plays others, and it’s probably the same reason he shot a girl in cold blood on the ferry and the same reason he shot the girl in the bank in rdr1. In that scene in rdr1, he said something like “you’re the master now John” before Dutch did what he did.

When Dutch isn’t in control, he rages against the world around him. Because as far as he’s concerned, he’s the smartest and most virtuous man around and anyone who opposes him is wrong. And anytime he loses or isn’t completely in control, somebody’s out to get him and play him like a fool. That’s why he turns on Arthur and John, and why Micah manipulates him so easily

Blackwater, going up against Cornwall, playing the inbred families and Bronte is what sealed the gang's fate.

Blackwater. If Dutch had just ignored the ferry job and let Hosea and Arthur handle their Blackwater real estate/tax scam, then they would have made it big with no one dying

If Dutch had just ignored the O'Driscolls and their train heist plans, then Cornwall would have went after Colm O'Driscoll while Dutch and the gang could have either went to Horseshoe without incident or gotten lost out West. Don’t forget it was Hosea who was against robbing that train back in chapter 1 that belonged to Leviticus Cornwall. It was after that robbery when he started sponsoring Pinkertons to find Dutch. If they stayed away from that train, they could’ve shaken off the Pinkertons easily. Hosea was right from the very start. Even before that he was saying that Blackwater robbery was a bad idea.

If Dutch or Hosea put their foot down and requested Herr Straus to stop loansharking desperate people or risk being banished from the gang, then maybe Arthur would still be alive

If they requested the aid of Trelwany to see if the rumor of Confederate gold is legit or not, then they could've realized playing one or the other family was a complete waste of time and not worth the effort.

The moment they got Jack from Bronte, they should have just left Lemoyne and never looked back.

The moment Arthur began helping the Wapiti tribe, he should have never went back to Dutch. Arthur, Charles, Sadie and John should have helped them and never looked back. John would’ve gotten Abigail and Jack out alive, while from some convincing from Arthur, Uncle and Susan would have helped Mary-Beth, Tilly and Pearson leave the gang.

Even if everything turned out the way it did but Hosea, Lenny and Sean were alive, the gang would be split. Hosea, Susan, Lenny and Sean would have sided with Arthur. There would have been a chance that Hosea and Arthur could have talked sense into Dutch, but Dutch would not want to see that he fucked up royally and costed EVERYTHING, he would stand by the choices he made, even if it meant fighting his own brother and sons.

But no, Dutch needs to feel like this big and important leader. He needs one last take. It wasn't about money, it was wanting to prove that he won and just wanting to be the big man, like Evelyn Miller or all the outlaws that are romanticized. Micah saw him for what he was and was playing him like a fiddle and milking him for all he's worth. It was so easy for Micah to play Dutch and so easy for Arthur Hosea, Sean, Lenny, Susan, Davey, Mac and Jenny to die for the sake of Dutch proving that he is a winner and that he is right. It was never about getting lost out west or even the money or even Tahiti, it was about Dutch wanting to prove he is right and all the doubters are wrong.

Dutch Van der Linde’s pride and ego is what destroyed the gang. Even if Milton did not kill Hosea, there was no stopping Dutch’s path of self-destruction.

#Red Dead Redemption #Red Dead Redemption 2 #Arthur Morgan #Dutch Van Der Linde #Hosea Matthews #John Marston #Micah Bell #Sean MacGuire #Lenny Summers #Susan Grimshaw #Charles Smith #Sadie Adler

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neon-junkie · 3 years

Text

The Workhorse

Summary: Once a prized pony, Arthur has found himself single-handedly carrying the entire camps weight, and it's finally worn him down. Disgusted by how the gang treats him, you drag your sweetheart out of camp for a weekend away, spoiling him to many things: a hot bath, dinner, a massage, and a strap-on.

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x f!Reader

Word Count: 3507

Rating: NSFW

Tags: Pegging, dom!Reader, sub!Arthur, Established relationship, Praise kink, massage.

Notes: me?? writing Arthur content?? I know I rarely post about him, but I do love Mister Morgan, enough to peg his ass

Here he comes, your other half, trailing back into camp with heavy bags under his eyes; you may be on the other side of the camp, but you can spot how exhausted he is from a mile off. Arthur's back is hunched over, his mouth slightly parted, and the grunt he makes as he forces himself off the saddle makes your heart shatter. Your poor lover, your sweetheart, your darling Arthur, as you like to call him. You've told certain gang members off before, for making Arthur do all the heavy work whilst other capable members lie back and relax. It's manipulative, conning Arthur into doing all the work simply because he struggles to say no. Well, enough is enough. You're trailing over to him now, ready to take his saddlebags off him and shoo him into your shared tent. As always, he protests the second you reach out for the bag, but you gently swat his hand away, and poor Arthur doesn't have the energy to refuse again. "Thank you," he replies, barely above a whisper, and takes your hand as you trail him over to your shared tent.

"It's so unfair," you begin to grumble on the walk, hoping that the camp members can overhear you. "Making you do all the work, sweetheart, you're so visibly tired," you sigh. "It's alright, darlin', I've just had a rough couple of days," Arthur replies, removing his hat as he enters the enclosed tent. "I'm not having it! not any more!" you grunt, placing Arthurs saddlebags down where they usually go. You turn to Arthur, whose looking down at you with tired eyes. "We're going to get away from here for a few days, somewhere relaxing," you begin telling him as you undress him. Arthur allows you to, knowing he'd happily collapse from exhaustion in his dirty clothes, if you'd let him. "You got anywhere in mind?" Arthur questions, shrugging his shirt off, followed by kicking off his boots and pants. "I've seen a cabin not too far from here. It's secluded, surrounded by a pretty landscape, and seemed deserted when I passed by," you explain. You dip a rag into some water, rinsing it before approaching Arthur. In the few seconds that you've turned to get the wash rag ready, he's sat down on the cot, looking like a sad puppy in just his briefs. "When did you find it? you ain't told me about this place before," Arthur asks, his head lifting as he speaks to you. "Whilst you were away," you explain. "Oh," Arthur sighs, watching you slide the cloth across his arm, attempting to clean him from his many layers of dirt. "Must'a been gone for a while." "Just under two weeks, I was ready to go looking for you," you tell him as you continue to bathe him, trailing the cloth over his other arm. "Did Dutch ask you to do that?" "No, I was going to leave on my own accord." "Was you gonna tell him?" "Of course." Arthur seems happy with your answer, his eyes following you as you rinse the cloth, watching the water turn brown within seconds. He straightens his back as you clean over his chest, trailing down his stomach, and gliding over his thighs. Once you stand back up, Arthur lets out a yawn, and you tell him that you're almost finished. He lets out a sigh of relief when you tell him to lie down on his front, letting out a hum of appreciation as you wipe the dirt off his back. Arthur's clean, or as clean as he can be with a wet rag. You can tell how exhausted he is as he shuffles about in your cot, rolling onto his side to free up your side of the bed. You two don't exchange any words, considering Arthur is already fast asleep as you pull the covers up over both of you, blowing out the lantern and curling up behind Arthur. Your arm wriggles beneath his head, your other arm wrapped around his waist, spooning him tenderly for the first time in days.

----

Dutch received an earful when he tried to protest you taking Arthur away for a relaxing weekend. "But I need him to-" he attempted to say, only for his face to turn white when you snapped, chewing him out, intentionally loud enough for everybody to hear. "Alright, whatever Arthur needs," Dutch eventually agreed, but only because you'd forced him to. It's unbelievable that his boss, his mentor, his somewhat-father-figure is against Arthur having some time off, a well needed break. Dutch makes passive comments here and there about how tired Arthur constantly looks, and you're surprised he's never suggested that Arthur relaxes, even briefly by the campfire. No bother, you've taken him out of camp to a remote cabin, one that you've spent the last week scouting out. The cabin is perfect, picturesque and somehow in decent condition. You spent a few days camping nearby, sitting, watching, waiting for anybody to come by and claim it as their own, but no owner showed up, so you're borrowing it. It overlooks a scenic landscape, a view that Arthur enjoyed as he laid back in his bath; the tub is small, but then again, Arthur is a big boy. He laughed for the first time in weeks as you scrubbed his hair, making playful comments here and there, leaving kisses on his temples after giving him a well needed head massage. Arthur attempted to wash the rest of his body, but you removed the bar of soap from his hand, and told him to enjoy his relaxing weekend. "My weekend? you really are spoilin' me, ain't you?" Arthur asked with a laugh, and didn't bother protesting. It's clear that Arthur feels guilty, not wanting his weight to be on anybody's shoulders, but he knows you well, and he knows that you won't take no for an answer, not when it comes to caring for your sweetheart. The only thing Arthur did protest was you drying him off. At first, he was fine with it, until you started drying his bum playfully, to which he swatted you away and reminded you that "I'm a big boy, I know how to dry my behind." Finally, Arthur is clean, relaxing in the nude on the double bed. He looks like a slob, sprawled out across the covers with a tin of peaches sitting on his chest. Every so often, Arthur picks a peach slice out, and slops it into his mouth, gobbing away and letting out a tired sigh. "What are you sighing for again?" you question, peering your head over your shoulder. You pause your current task, prepping dinner, to speak to him, not wanting to accidentally slice your fingers. "I just ain't used to relaxin', that's all," Arthur replies before eating another peach slice. "Well, you'll have to get used to it, cause I ain't lettin' the camp run you dry any more." "Oh, you gonna put your foot down with them?" he questions, letting out a soft laugh. "I am," you nod, before turning back to your cooking. "It ain't fair on you, Arthur. I don't see anybody liftin' a finger around that-" "-Darlin'," Arthur cuts you off. "It's alright, I know what you're sayin'. And like you said, maybe I should start puttin' my foot down with 'em too. Sayin' 'no' and all that. It just... it ain't like me," he sighs. "I know, Arthur. You've got a heart of gold, even if you won't admit it." Arthur mumbles something under his breath, and you assume it's along the lines of "no, I don't." Typical, of course he's going to reject praise. Arthur's had it drilled into his head from such a young age that he's a bad man, a killer, a thief, and so on, but you see so much more than that, and you're willing to do whatever it takes to help him at least see a peak of the good man that he truly is.

Dinner is slid into the oven, and you've got at least an hour to kill, possibly more, depending on how old and unkept this oven is. Your shoes were kicked off long ago, and now you're slipping off a few items of clothing, peeling the layers down until you're in just your undergarments. "More treats for me?" Arthur flirts as he watches you undress. "I'm afraid I ain't wearing the nice lingerie, Arthur," you reply, shaking your head softly. "All your lingerie is nice! how many times have I gotta tell you that?" "Oh, I see how it is!" you laugh. "So, you won't let me tell you that you're a good man, but you expect me to listen when you say all my lingerie is nice?" you question, playfully pointing out his hypocrisy as you crawl onto the bed, sitting on your knees beside him. "That ain't the same," Arthur murmurs, tilting his head to look away from you. He finishes off his final peach slice, placing the empty can on the bedside table, and turns to face you. "So, what now?" he asks. "Now, you let me give you a massage," you say with a smile. "A massage?!" Arthur blurts out. "You really are doing everythin' for me this weekend," he laughs, but doesn't protest. Instead, Arthur shuffles down the bed, rolling over onto his front. He bunches up the pillows beneath his head, his broad arms wrapping around them, snuggling down into the feather pillow. Arthur looks just like he always does - covered in bruises and cuts, his skin worn and flaky, peeling in some places from sunburn that he's caught out on the road. He's truly a rugged, classic cowboy, although Arthur doesn't always like the term. It's been drilled into his head by Dutch that 'outlaw' is the proper term, which is correct, considering Arthur doesn't herd cows for a living. You reach down over the edge of the bed, fishing into your rucksack for the bottle of massage oil you've brought specifically for this occasion. Arthur has a perfect, peachy behind, that you straddle and sit on, then begin getting to work. The oil is warmed up in your hands before smearing it all over Arthurs back; your hands trail up to his shoulders, coating them with whatever oil is left on your hands, before focusing on the massage. To nobody's surprise, he's tense, full of knots, lumps and bumps. Arthur reminds you of a workhorse, one that has been left in his harness for far too long; he's not been brushed in a long time, his coat now sticky and matted, and his hooves are overgrown and causing him pain. If only there was a way to shame the camp for what they've done, to make it clear just how much they've worn Arthur down, far beyond his bones. Thankfully, Arthur lets out sighs of relief, pleasant hums, small words of appreciation like "right there," and "oh, another knot?" His eyes are shut throughout it all, complimenting his relaxed face, but on the odd occasion, Arthurs brows do furrow as you work away another knot. You continue your trail, over his arms, down his shoulder blades, along his spine, and without thinking, you start massaging his bum. At first, Arthur laughs, and thinks you're joking. "You want me to stop?" you question. "...Nah, it's quite nice, actually," Arthur encourages, and chuckles to himself as you continue, playfully kneading at each of his cheeks. You shuffle down the bed as you go, spending far too long on his thighs; they're solid, as hard as his biceps and chest, and you question if he could crush somebody's skull between them. He continues showing his appreciation through the same small comments and pleasant sounds, but does grumble as you defeat a knot in his calf. Your hands trail up his body again, much quick this time, and return to playfully massaging his bum. "You really like m'peach, don't you?" Arthur says with a laugh, his eyes still shut, not paying much attention to your playfulness. "I do, you must do a lot of squats on your travels," you reply. "I guess I do, between everythin' else." Jealous is an understatement, it's downright unfair that Arthur Morgan has an ass this fine. However, as you're massaging away, an idea crosses your mind. You can't deny that you didn't prepare for this, wanting to be ready for whatever Arthur needs this weekend, so why not give it a try? You continue massaging away, innocent as always, but you slide the pad of your finger between his cheeks, making sure it trails over his entrance. Arthur doesn't react, and you assume he thinks you made a mistake, so you slide your finger over again. This time, Arthur lets out a hum, and that's it, that's all you manage to draw out from him. He'd tell you to stop, if he wanted you to, but he hasn't, so you continue. You eventually put your focus on his entrance, momentarily moving away to slick your fingers up in oil. Arthur lets out a deep exhale as your damp fingers press against his entrance, rubbing over his holes in circles, testing the waters before dipping in. Arthur lets out a sigh as you start pushing a finger in, only sinking your finger down to the first joint. You pause, and check to see how Arthur's doing; he's golden, a soft smile across his lips, and you're happy with how willing he seems. You then push down to the next joint. To your surprise, Arthur pushes his hips up, rutting against your fingers, pushing your finger into him until he reaches your knuckle. His hips return to resting on the bed, and he lets you take the lead, slowly working your single digit in and out of him. Arthur lets out the softest sighs you've ever heard, barely above a whisper, clearly enjoying the special attention that you've giving him. Once he feels ready, you begin slipping another finger in. This time, Arthur moans, his eyes remaining shut as you begin slowly fucking him with your fingers. "Damn," Arthur whimpers as you reach your knuckles. "This alright?" you question. "Yeah, real alright," Arthur moans. "Although, this ain't what I expected when you said you were gonna take care of me," he says with a soft laugh. "You let me know if you want me to stop," you reassure him, but your words are cut short as Arthur protests. "I won't be needin' to do that." "Oh? I think you forgot something, Arthur," you tut. Your voice is firm, a tone that you only use when needed, and Arthur picks up on it straight away. "I'm sorry... Miss," he sighs. "That's better, good boy." Arthur begins gripping at the pillow, bunching the thick fabric up in his fists, his head burying into it as you begin scissoring him, preparing him as much as you can. It's been so long since he received this kind of treatment, always so busy with work, always away on his travels, resorting to using his own hand whenever he can. It's rare that you two are left alone, and even rarer to be in a quiet and comfortable setting, so you might as well make the most of it.

"You feel ready, Arthur," you comment as you roll onto your side, relaxing on the bed beside him. Arthur finally peeks up, his eyes meeting yours, blown and hazy, entranced by your magic. "Ready for what, Miss?" he questions. "How's about I show you?" you suggest, tilting your head to latch your lips onto Arthurs. He kisses you tenderly, as always, his lips trailing over yours as light as a feather. Arthur lets out a whimper, crying into your mouth as you begin moving your fingers again; he continues his attempt at kissing you, but can't help the mewls that escape his lips as you continue toying with him. You break the kiss, your eyes meeting Arthurs; he's gazing at you lovingly, with a layer of lust drawn over him. "Please show me, Miss," Arthur begs. A soft kiss is placed on Arthur forehead as you slip your fingers from him, wiping yourself off on the covers before shuffling back up onto your knees. "No peeking," you order, and you watch as Arthur turns his head back against the pillow, shutting his eyes. You don't take too long to get ready, knowing exactly how to fasten this strap on. It always feels a little odd at first, foreign and somewhat sin-worthy, as you know neither of you should be doing this, but who's going to arrest you? God? You return to straddling Arthur, your cock slapping his butt cheek as you settle down. Arthur instantly knows what's in store for him, "I knew it," he mutters under his breath. "Don't get cheeky with me, boy," you teasingly prod. Arthur lets out a soft chuckle as he replies "I won't, Miss." You use some more oil to slick your cock up, adding a generous amount, before lining yourself up against Arthurs entrance. Slowly, you begin pushing in. Arthur deeply exhales as the tip enters him, his sigh turning into a long, drawn out moan as you sink deeper. Once fully sheathed, you hold yourself there, letting Arthur relax around your length. He's already panting, his eyes scrunched shut, his forehead slightly sweaty. Within time, Arthur calms down, and gives you a small nod to indicate that he's ready. You take it slow, watching as your cock disappears, then reappears. "Good boy," you coo, placing a kiss on Arthur shoulder blade. His cheeks are turning redder by the second, and he shifts his upper body upright, lying like a sphinx; it's the perfect position, you're able to thrust your cock down into Arthur, whilst having easy access to his neck and shoulders, soon to be covered in kisses. After some time, you pick up the pace. Arthur begins moaning, babbling out phrases like "thank you, Miss" and "yes please, Miss." "This is exactly what you need, isn't it?" you comment. Arthur's about to reply, but you slam your cock sharply into him, cutting his words short as he falls limp against the pillow. He stutters a few times before managing to show his appreciation, "it is, Miss." "And you look so pretty, as always, Arthur. Such a pretty boy, taking this strap for me." You feel Arthur tense up at your comment; he's fighting the urge to reject your praise, constantly thinking he doesn't deserve it. Arthur licks his lips before replying, "I am, Miss." "Good boy," you smile, dipping your head down to kiss his cheek. "My good boy," you correct yourself. "Your good boy," Arthur nods in agreement, before burying his head in the pillow, his hands gripping at it yet again. The pace you're going at is comfortable, not too slow, and not too fast; you're not being a tease, nor are you breaking a sweat, but it seems it's enough to make Arthur begin hitting peak. He always lets out specific moans when he's about to cum, only you're not ready for this to be over, not just yet. "Don't cum yet, sweetheart," you order in a soft and sweet tone. "M'tryin', it's just... it's been so long," Arthur whimpers. His head turns slightly as he talks, showing off his vibrant cheeks, and the glow of sweat painted across his face. "I know, Arthur," you sigh, kissing his shoulder. "But we've got all weekend to catch up," you smile, and return to your steady pace. Arthur's practically melted on the bed, sandwiched between you and the mattress. He already looks debauched, no doubt he'll need a towel bath before bed, if the bed is still sleepable, as you're almost certain Arthur has left a puddle of pre-cum atop of it. Oh well, you brought spare blankets for a reason. "M-Miss... I can't," Arthur pants. "You gotta... you gotta let me," he pleads. Arthur sounds like he's about to burst into tears, and you accept his plead by slipping out of him. "Roll over," you order, and Arthur flips over milliseconds after you order him to, eager as always. You shuffle down the bed and wrap your lips around his cock, to which Arthur practically sobs. He cums instantly, his hand resting on the back of your head, not pushing you down, but relaxing there instinctively. Arthur lets out a trail of sighs and moans, thanking you over and over. You milk him for all he's worth, running your tongue along his overly-sensitive shaft before sliding off him with a 'pop.' You've barely swallowed when Arthur grabs you, pulling you up against him. "Your turn, Miss," he blurts out, rushing to slip his hand between your legs. He dips beneath your strap, sinking his fingers into you, and curls them, rutting them perfectly. Arthur knows what he's doing, he knows your body better than you do, and you feel yourself tightening around him moments later, squirming against him as you cum. Near the end of your orgasm, Arthur catches your lips with his, and uses his spare hand to pull you down into a deep kiss. You're both starving, letting tongues slide against each other, noses bumping slightly, moans and groans escaping between kisses. Eventually, the kiss relaxes, as well as your bodies, falling limp atop of him. Arthur slips his fingers from you, wiping himself off on the covers before wrapping his arms around you. "God damn," he mutters, then places a kiss to your temple. "I needed that, I really needed that... thank you." "You ain't gotta thank me, Arthur," you reply as you trail your fingertips across his chest. Arthur doesn't verbally reply, instead, he gives you a slight squeeze during the cuddle. You're both exhausted, drained on the first day of your weekend away, but you'll probably be refreshed by the time morning rolls around, ready to wake Arthur up with another surprise. The silence is soon broken as Arthur sniffs the air, his nose scrunching up at the scent. "You smell somethin'?" he questions. "Shit, the dinner!!"

#rdrwriting #the workhorse #fem reader #nsft #female reader #f!reader #arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x you #arthur morgan x female reader #estabished relationship #smut #rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #rdr fanfic #rdr fanfiction #rdr2 fanfic

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omgbubbletea · 3 years

Text

Dating George Weasley Would Include

Let’s get one thing straight, it doesn't matter what house you're in

Sure, it would be a bonus if you were in Gryffindor because that would mean he wouldn't have to sneak into your common room to be with you

Blood status also doesn't matter to him

If he loves you, he loves all of you

The reason you and George are together is all thanks to Fred

He had grown sick and tired of George constantly talking about you

How pretty you were

How nice you smelled

How he felt butterflies every time you smiled at him

The boy must have been in-love or something

On the other hand, Fred had found out you had feelings for George by constantly bugging you on the subject till you cracked and told him

Being the oblivious pair George and you were, neither of you had realised the others feelings

This is when Fred decided to take matters into his own hands

His plan consisted of locking both you and George in a janitors closet until you both confessed your feelings

He had told you guys to meet him in this particular closet for an emergency meeting

With the two of you being so ignorant, you walked into this closet, wondering where Fred was and why he had chosen such a weird place to meet

As soon as you guys crossed the line, that’s when Fred had locked the door

“Fred! what are you doing? Let us out!” (you and George started to yell)

“If you guys want out, then there’s something you should get off your chest first”

You both knew instantly what he was talking about

Fred’s plan was almost fool-proof except for the fact that both you and George had your wands and could just alohomora your way out

Oh, wait...

Fred had known you too well and knew you both always left your wands in the dorm during free time before dinner

“Fred this isn't funny”(George was starting to get on edge)

“Do you hear me laughing?”

The closet was small(but who said you found it a problem(; )

A couple of minutes passed

“Look (y/n)...”(George began to say slowly)

“I- I like you”

“I like you a lot, more than a friend probably should”(was that his heart pounding in his chest George could hear?)

At that moment your head shot up to meet his gaze

Did he just confess his feeling to you?

Did he feel the same?

Hope began to form in your heart

“George...”(he was ready for his heart to be broken)

“I’ve felt that way since I first met you”(a smile began to break on your face)

When I tell you that that boys smile lit up the room

Nothing more was shared at that moment except for a hungry kiss

He had been craving your lips for awhile now

Of-course the moment only lasted so long before Fred swung the door open

“Ew, gross guys!”

The two of you just grinned

If you are not in Gryffindor, then your days usually consisted of sneaking into the others common room

It’s a usual thing

Cuddling on the couch

Playing board games

Your friends(and others in your house) are used to seeing George around

Surprisingly, you guys have never been caught(thanks to the marauders' map)

He’s always waiting outside of the common room so you guys can walk to breakfast together

You guys always sit next to each other in the great hall

If you are in a different house, he will walk you to your common room at the end of the day and give you a kiss goodnight(which usually gets a bit heated)

Pet names

Darling and gorgeous are his most used

You can’t help but get butterflies every-time those words roll of his tongue

“Well hello gorgeous”

Small forms of PDA

Hand holding

Arm around your shoulder

Arm around your waist

Temple kisses

Cheek kisses

Knuckle kisses

He LOVES it when you play with his hair and just melts into your touch

I have a theory that the twins give the BEST hugs

Bear hugs that engulf you

Hugs from behind where he pulls you closer to him

(and he’s always so warm...like what?)

You love wearing his jumpers

Yes, they are always baggy on you

You love the smell of them though(strawberries, vanilla and a bit of a smoky hint)because it’s just like having George there

He gives you one of his jumpers to keep so you would stop stealing all his other ones

It’s your favourite item of clothing and you always wear it to bed

Your first “I love you” came out of nowhere

The two of you were in the common room studying for an upcoming test

You should have been in your bed by now but of-course this test was more important than your exhaustion

With papers strewn across the table and your hand cramping from writing, you continued with your work, although George had stopped

Suddenly, you had become aware of him gazing at you

“Can I help you?”

“It’s nothing, you’re just...so beautiful”

You couldn’t help the blush that bloomed on your cheeks

“I love you”

The phrase was just audible

You had looked up in shock unsure if you had heard right

George was yet to comprehend what he had said when it all hit him

“Oh (y/n), I’m sorry! It just sort of slipt out- I didn’t mean to say it- I mean I want to say it because I love you but not that-”

You just chuckled at his constant rambling

“George, calm down, I love you too”

“I don’t want to make you se- wait, what did you just say?”

“I love you too”(you said it gently)

“Really..?”(he didn't sound too convinced)

In gesture, you gave him a sweet kiss, melting into the moment

It seemed to calm his mind

Spending summer and Christmas at the burrow

Molly loves you

She knits one of her famous sweaters for you for Christmas

If you are muggle-born(or even half-blood), Arthur loves when you tell stories about muggle life

When Ron was younger, he had a BIG crush on you

Now when he thinks about it, he just gets embarrassed

Ginny looks up to you(and thinks you're a bad bish)

You and Ginny love to have sleepovers together and gossip about all the people in Hogwarts

You also get filled in on all her latest “love life” with Harry

Fred is one of your best and closest friends

He is happy that George found someone to make him happy

You’re Fred’s wing-women(although he doesn't agree because you haven’t done the best of jobs)

You guys love to tease George together

Although it’s mainly just Fred teasing you and George

“Can you guys get a room?!”

It was in those moments that Fred may have regretted locking you guys in that closet

As much as he loves you, he does get a bit tired of hearing George talk about you all-day(nothing changed since he confessed his feelings for you)

Lee is also a close friend to you

It was only inevitable for you guys to bond with the twins being best friends with him

Many times have the two of you tried to get back at Fred and George with a prank

Sadly, the twins somehow always manage to know what you guys are planning

Let’s just say they prank you guys twice as hard for trying to outdo the masters

The twins are always playing “light” pranks on you

From dying your hair bright pink

To slipping a small amount of love potion into your drink

It’s always a risk being around the two of them

They love to get you involved in their pranks

This usually means standing guard though):

You remember this one time in potions when you were first learning about amortentia

There was a fresh batch of it at the front of the class and everyone around the room was trying to get a whiff

“Do I even have to ask what it smells like to you darling?”

You closed your eyes and gave a sharp inhale

“Vanilla, candy apples and amber” (you had said it so innocently)

George’s face was painted in horror

“What?!”

He was in disbelief because he KNEW he didn’t smell of amber or vanilla

“CEDRIC?!” (the twins spoke rather loudly in unison)

“But- I- wha-”(George began to stutter on)

At that point, you couldn’t hold in your laughter any longer

“I’m only joking!”

When I tell you how quick that boy calmed down

“Oh thank Merlin”

That was revenge for staining your teeth blue for a whole week!

In all honesty, the pained look on George’s face when he realised you may not love him pained your heart

On the other hand, Fred thought it was hilarious

(If) you play quidditch for Gryffindor, then you are a chaser, otherwise, you are whatever position you got placed into

If you are not in Gryffindor, then you are always watching the quidditch game and supporting the twins(unless it’s your house playing)

He loves to find you in the crowd

You’re his #1 fan

Steamy kisses after the game

If they win the game then it’s going to be a lot more than kissing(;

He has ended up in the hospital wing a couple of times because of the game

It has never been too serious but you still can’t help but worry for him

“You know, even with a black eye and bloody face, I’m still the better-looking twin”

Fred just cracked up

“He must still be a bit loopy from all that pain killer”

If you don’t play quidditch, then George has defiantly tried to teach you

It didn’t go too well

You ended up falling off the broom at only 1 meter off the ground

Face-planted into the grass

Ended with you having a dislocated jaw

George felt guilty for the rest of the month and wouldn't stop apologising

Meanwhile, Fred had fallen on his ass from laughing too hard

Trips to Hogsmeade

Raiding Honeydukes

Dates at the Three Broomsticks

Drinking enough butterbeer to get tipsy

Lots of puns and dad jokes

You were once learning how to produce a Patronus in DA when someone had just spelled a deer

You looked over at George to see him struggling a bit with the spell

And that’s when the awful pun left his mouth

“Oh deer, I just can’t seem to produce a Patronus”

You tried to hold in your laugh

“Shove off Weasley”

He takes you to the Yule Ball

It’s a magical night

Full of dancing

Screaming the lyrics to the songs playing

Drinking fire whisky that Fred had smuggled in

Drunk snogging to the point where Snape found you guys and took 5 points off each of you

Dancing around the common room

Sneaking into the kitchens to steal food

Tickle fights(I feel like George is very ticklish)

Swimming in the Black Lake on a dare

Snowball fights in the winter

He never fails to make you laugh

He is more of the shy, reserved twin

Sometimes you just have to remind him that he is loved and noticed

He will compare himself to Fred and it will never be positive

You will reassure him and hold him for however long he needs

If what he needs is a good vent then you are ready to listen no matter what you are doing

He is more important

He is also more of the jealous twin

Don’t get me wrong, he won't go all psycho boyfriend when he sees another guy talking to you

He respects you and knows you would never leave him for someone else

But if there is flirting going on or the guy is trying to make a move

Let’s just say his temper won't last long

“Hello darling”

Que passionate kiss between George and you

“Sorry mate, she’s already taken”

You had never seen a guys face go paler

Or seen George go so smug

He always knows what to do when you're sad

He will listen to your every last word if you have to vent

Or he will hold you in his arms for hours while whispering sweet nothings into your ear if all you want to do is cry it out

By the end of it, you can't help but feel just a little bit better because of him

He loves to hear about your day and you can’t deny that he is the best listener

He low key has separation anxiety

He LOVES to spoon

Definitely the big spoon

Although he can’t help but love to be the little spoon sometimes

“Hey um...Do you mind if we?...”

“You wanna be the little spoon?”

“Yes please...”

He’s smiling on the inside

He may be a little shy in public but he’s a freak in the sheets if you know what I mean(;

He’s usually top but it drives him crazy if you switch rolls

I feel like he’s a hair puller?

Will always make sure you’re comfortable with everything

Super gentle at times

But also can be rough...

Would never do anything that would hurt you

Lots of cuddling after

He loves to give you flowers just to see you get all flustered

One time he stole flowers from the school grounds

Little did he know, Mcgonagall had seen the whole thing

“Mr Weasley, are those flowers from Professor Sprout’s greenhouse?”

The look on his face was a dead give away

“Funny story actually Professor...”

Let’s just say it wasn’t the funniest of stories

Braiding his longer hair

Showers together

Piggyback rides to class

Studying in the library with Fred(but he usually just gets bored and leaves)

He reads to you

Basically he is perfect in every way and will love you till the end

#Harry Potter #weasley #fred and goerge weasley #george weasley #fred weasley #george wealsey x reader #george weasley imagine #fred weasly x reader #fred weasley imagine #weasley twins #hp #harry potter x reader #imagine #x reader #imagines #y/n #hogwarts #weasley x reader

368 notes · View notes

thatslikely · 3 years

Text

Seasons- G.W. Headcannons

dating George Weasley through the seasons

Warnings: mentions of food, but it's all fluff

Word Count: 1.4k

A/N: just thought it would be fun! Let me know if you want this for any other characters!

George Taglist: @hufflepuff5972

if you want to be added to the taglist, reply to this post, send me an ask, or dm me!

I recommend listening to this playlist while reading for the best experience!

----

Winter

On the first snowfall of the season, you two definitely built an adorable little snowman, complete with coal eyes (you probably stole Ron's scarf for his neck). You told George about the muggle story Frosty the Snowman, and he tried to find a spell to recreate Frosty.

The next day, you two gradually started amassing a large snowman army. Inevitably, in the middle of construction, George betrayed you with an icy snowball to your back.

Naturally, this incited a five day-long snowball war that increasingly got more and more intense. George was surprisingly good at building sturdy snow forts, so you never really stood a chance against his defences. He could have probably constructed a 7 foot tall barricade in a matter of minutes!

Even if you two are locked in battle, he'll always take time to admire the way the white snowflakes rest in your hair so beautifully, as well as the fiery determination behind your eyes.

Fiesty battles aside, George always made sure that you were warm and cozy after a long day in the cold, making homemade hot cocoa using Molly's famous recipe.

One day, long after the ‘Snow Skirmish’, you convince him to go ice skating with you; he absolutely fell in love with it. For a while, he had to hold onto your arms for balance, which led to a lot of falls considering he's a giant compared to you.

Eventually he got the hang of it and you taught him how to play muggle hockey, which he picked up quite quickly. He eventually got all the Weasleys hooked, and they held weekly tournaments. You were always George's favorite cheerleader.

If he ever became a little too cocky, he'd fall face-first onto the hard ice, which always brought a small smile to your face. He always laughed with you, too.

On snowless days, however, you two went on 'expeditions', which entailed peaceful walks through the woods, hand-knitted gloves intertwined.

You'd always keep your eyes peeled for birds or foxes, and occasionally he swore he saw a yeti. You were surprised he never got Fred to dress up in a yeti suit, at least not yet.

Spring

One word: picnics.

You spent the majority of springtime down at the Burrow, enjoying the pleasant spring weather. There were huge multicolored flower fields surrounding George's childhood home, making it even more fitting for the season.

Some days, he'd take you down to the creek past the Burrow, and the two of you would stand ankle-deep in the cool, flowing water. Sometimes, if he was feeling a bit mischievious, he’d splash you with some of the refreshing water, you quickly returning the favor.

Occasionally, he'd try to catch a little leaping frog, holding it carefully in his big palms. He was enchanted by the tiny creature, and without fail, he always begged you to let him keep it.

"But Terrance needs a home! We can make him a terrarium and everything! Please?"

Some days, he'd take you up to the Tree, which laid on a soft, grassy hill in the middle of a luscious yellow flower field. A single tire swing hung from its burly and ancient branches.

Often times, he'd sit at the base of the trunk, either dozing off or humming a song from his youth. If you chose to sit with him, however, he'd braid your hair perfectly and pick some colorful flowers to accent it.

"My little Angel, you look so pretty with flowers in your hair."

You'd always pick some petals for his ginger mop, too.

"Now we're matching, Georgie. Daffodils compliment your hair beautifully."

He loved to push you in the tire swing. He was far too big to fit in it now, to your dismay, but he was perfectly satisfied pushing you back and forth in it. It almost reminded him of rocking a baby cradle.

On rainy days, he'd fetch old rain boots from the attic. He'd always wear Bill's old pair, you wearing his'. The area around the small creek was all muddy, and you can't tell me he wouldn't make mud pies. Even if he's way too old for them.

"Darling, would you care for a pie?"

"And what does it taste like, exactly?"

"It's my signature flavor, mud!"

Summer

I firmly believe George is a good cook. He just is (see my chef!George fic for elabroation).

One sweltering day, you and him went out to the gardens and pick ripe, ruby-red strawberries to chop up and make into homemade strawberry ice cream.

His ice cream would surpass Fortescue's by a lot. Like it's scary. From then on, he made it every Saturday morning, even on chilly winter days.

Sometimes he'd turn adventurous and try some new flavors, which were normally pretty good, until he got a little too creative and made caramel watermelon ice cream. From then on, he stuck with the classics.

In the evenings, a small bonfire was lit and all the Weasleys spent the night drinking and dancing. Bill held a guitar concert, George and Arthur grilled up some hot dogs (which were juicy and delcious), Fred set off some fireworks, and Ginny held fiercely competitive broom races.

When everyone went inside, exhausted, you and George stayed outside, listening to the crickets chirping and admiring the clear, country sky. He pointed out his favorite constellations to you, reenacting the myths behind them with you as his co-actor (you can't tell me we wouldn't let you fake-stab him and he'd fall to the grass super dramatically).

Beach days: a must have.

George would definitely wear red/maroon swim trunks, and there would always be a white stripe of sunscreen on his freckled nose, even after he furiously rubbed it in.

He'd always love the bathing suit you sported, whether it was a gingham bikini or a gorgeous silver one piece. He loved you so much, you never felt self conscious around him.

He'd take you to a secret, tucked-away beach, and you two would spend the day building elaborate sand castles, burying you deep in the sand, and searching for pretty sea shells and sand dollars.

“Where do you think you’re going, Mister? You can’t just leave me buried under the san like this!”

“Someone’ll find you eventually. I just want all the icecream for myself, what can I say? Oh fine, I’ll dig you up, darling.”

Autumn

Autumn at the Burrow was like nothing else. There was always a seemingly endless supply of pumpkin juice and apple juice on tap, and traditions were ampted up to the max.

Pumpkin carving was taken very seriously, and you and George were no exceptions. You and him were never artsy per se, but you always tried your hardest together to crave an intricately designed pumpkin. It always turned out pretty decent, to your surprise.

George and Fred would constantly wear scary masks and hide around he Burrow, or plant fake spiders in the cupboards in hopes of scaring Ron. It always worked.

Since the weather was so nice and chilly, he'd always go around the woods with you collecting a pile of some good sticks for a tree fort. He always carried the branches, and you collected the prettiest orange leaves you could find, for a collage or scrapbook.

All fall, he worked on building a small, secluded tree fort, which was definitely worth it in the end. You two stayed up late into the night, telling ghost stories, kissing, or inviting the whole Weasley clan for a good old fashioned game of Truth or Dare.

As for Halloween, you guys already know he goes overboard. He decorated every inch of every wall with black and orange streamers, fake cobwebs, and little baby pumpkins. It was always really sweet; he'd always wear a proud grin after the whole house was adorned to his liking.

For costumes, I'm 99% sure that you two would always do pun-y couple costumes think him dressing up as a cereal box and you as a killer, or him as a ghost and you a pepper).

You two would also 100% go to a costume store, and buy as much cheap hair gel as you could, all so you two could make each spiky Mohawks (you'd never admit it to George, but he pulled them off).

One time, he let you take him to a muggle farm for the day. You decided it would be fun to do a corn maze. The both of you got lost for three hours. From then on, he just stuck with hay rides.

Spending time with George was always fun, year-round.

194 notes · View notes

oddshelbyout · 3 years

Text

His Gift // John Shelby X Fem!Reader

Summary: It’s your birthday and you’re celebrating withe the Shelbys. Polly and Ada spoils John’s surpise gift for you.

Word Count: 2289

Warnings: Swearing

Author’s Note:

I’m sure you want to say “Enough Marianne, you only write for John.” but I just can’t hold myself back. Writing John fics are better than daydreaming about him, a fictional dead character.

If you’re looking for a friends to lovers fluff, this is it and I hope you enjoy it.

English is not my first language and I’m not always confident about my work amd don’t edit so please let me know if I make any mistakes or if there’s anything I can fix in my writing.

You can ask to be added to my taglist. You can be tagged to works on a specific character or just any of my works. Please dm me or send your wish to my ask box if you’d like to be added.

Requests are open. You can request any Peaky Blinders related prompts/plots for me write. I’m a minor so I don’t take NSFW requests, please keep that in mind.

———————

Birthdays in the Shelbys were never a big deal. Polly, Arthur and Thomas didn’t even know the exact day of their birth. There were never any celebrations. That fact was what made that day so important.

It was your 25th birthday. Birthdays weren’t a big deal in your family either but at least they were celebrated or they used to be.

Your mother had passed away a year ago and it would be your first birthday without any family members present. They were all already dead but it wasn’t a huge deal because the grief didn’t hold you captive for long.

John, your best friend couldn’t let you spend your birthday alone so he arranged a birthday dinner for you. All the Shelbys would be there, your family. You had known them your entire life and your relationship only grew stronger.

It would be at your own home but you knew the setting wouldn’t make much difference. Polly and Ada had come early to help you cook. You had a whole family to feed.

You were filled with joy. You knew celebrating birthdays was a foreign thing to the Shelbys. Knowing that made you feel extremely cared for.

“Is Tommy going to be here?” you asked while chopping some carrots. Thomas Shelby had been like an older brother for you. Even though you didn’t see him much these days, you still liked to believe you hadn’t lost your connection to him.

“I’m not sure.” Ada mumbled, “He’s been really busy.” you just nodded to her explanation. You wouldn’t take it personally if he hadn’t showed up.

“Maybe Michael will show up as his substitute.” you giggled. Ada giggled with you too. “Don’t make fun of my boy will you!” Polly said strongly. You knew she was just joking just like she knew you were.

“Alright Pol.” Ada said, she couldn’t stop giggling. Polly was tired of you giggling like children while cooking. “Please tell me you have enough drinks Y/N.” Polly said after turning her back to you and heading towards the table to pour herself some wine.

“Of course I do Pol.” you rolled your eyes since she couldn’t see you. “Don’t roll your eyes at me Miss.” Polly said. Ada couldn’t hold herself back from laughing.

“Nothing slips away from you does it?” Ada asked Polly while she sat down on the chair slowly. Polly had given up on cooking, left you and Ada to take care of it.

“So everyone will be here?” you asked once again, trying to be sure you’ll have everyone you love with you on that day. “Of course dear.” Polly let out, “You are our dearest Y/N.” Ada supported her aunt’s words.

It felt so good knowing the people around you genuinely loved you back. Them accepting you as a Shelby even though you were not in the family by blood or marriage was the best thing that happened to you.

They were all so special to you but the most special was John. He was your best friend, the one you shared all your secrets with. Except one special secret because it was about him only.

You liked him, fuck it, you loved him and not in a friendly way. You didn’t know if that counted as a secret because he couldn’t be dumb enough to not notice that.

“When do you think John will be here?” you asked, Polly sighed. You looked at Ada and then Polly, neither said anything. “You’re keeping something from me.” turned to Polly.

“No we’re not!” Ada opposed, you definitely didn’t buy it. “Spill ladies.” you said and raised your eyebrows. “Okay so…” Ada started talking but Polly interrupted, “Ada, you made a promise.” she said.

“Come on Polly, what’s going on?” you asked impatiently. Ada giggled, “He went to London to get you a real nice gift.” your jaw dropped.

“London? Why would he go such a long way for only a simple gift?” you weren’t that excited for his gift. You thought it was unnecessary.

“You’re special to him and we’re celebrating a birthday for once!” Polly said, you nodded. It still made you nervous.

“I didn’t ask for a gift, I didn’t expect a gift.” Ada and Polly didn’t understand why you got upset over a joyful thing.

“Darling, what’s wrong?” Polly asked, it was almost like she read your mind. You moved away from the counter and sat on the chair next to Polly.

“Why is he going through the trouble of going to London for a gift? He hasn’t even noticed that I’m interested in him.” you said simply. Polly nodded.

“Oh Y/N, you have to tell him that you love him.” Ada responded. There was a meal to cook and all of you were now sitting around the table, talking about your interest in John.

“I don’t know if I should.” you mumbled. Polly held your hand, “Darling, it’s okay to be scared when you love someone.” you nodded. She was right.

“Who do you love Y/N?” you heard John say and your body filled with sudden panic. You didn’t even hear him come in.

“No one.” you said and Ada gave you a very disappointed look. “So nice of you to join us early John.” Polly said with a dull tone.

“Better be early than late.” he said looking directly at you. He was obviously so blind that he couldn’t see the way you looked at him.

He stood next to you, he supported himself with a one hand on the table. “Tell me Y/N, who is it that has your heart?” you nervously chuckled.

“You wouldn’t know him.” Polly and Ada’s confused eyes locked on you. They thought this would be the moment.

“I’m a Peaky Blinder, I know everyone in this damn city.” he said directly. Polly’s gaze turned to John. She saw something on his impression that you didn’t. It was jealousy.

“He’s not from here.” you lied, you knew that was a mistake. “Okay then, don’t tell me if you don’t want to.” John said and you got up.

You got back to the food with Ada and Polly kept enjoying her wine as she watched you cook. John sat on the chair you were previously sitting on.

“Will you tell me who it is?” John whispered to Polly, she just chuckled loud so you could hear. John was disappointed that nobody was willing to tell him. He was obviously jealous but it was a foreign feeling to him. He didn’t know what he felt was jealousy.

Soon the food was done, the table was ready and everyone was there. Even Tommy had come which made you the happiest. Michael’s arrival had surprised you and you were extremely happy to see Finn come as well.

After eating you went to the living room and settled on the couch. “I think I like this birthday celebration thing.” Arthur said and everyone just laughed, except Tommy. He still had a thing to say though.

“Would it be a celebration without gifts?” he said and you smiled big. “Wait, did we have to buy something?” Finn asked and Polly threw him a killer look.

“You didn’t have to.” you said humbly, you really didn’t want gifts. All that mattered to you was that the Shelbys bothered to celebrate your birthday with you.

Tommy took a little box out of his pocket. “This is from all of us.” he said, he handed it to you. You opened the small box. It had a little pin inside. The pin was shaped as a star, you smiled big.

“This is perfect.” you put the pin on your shirt and stood up to hug all of them. Even Tommy let you hug, he wasn’t a fan of hugs so it meant a lot that he let you do that.

“I’m so lucky to have all of you by my side.” you said, “Damn right you are.” Arthur couldn’t hold himself but say. You laughed, you hadn’t felt this much joy in a long time.

You hugged Michael the last, “Happy birthday.” he told you softly then you sat back at your place. The moment you sat down. You expected John to finally give you his gift.

You hoped he had a seperate gift for you. Tommy did say it was from all of them but if John went all the way to London to buy this, why didn’t he give it himself? You didn’t like that feeling of ambiguity

There was a weird long silence. Everyone looked uncomfortable and you hated that. “Why don’t we get more drinks.” Michael offered to cut the silence. Everyone nodded. You weren’t going to just shut up.

“John, don’t you have a seperate gift for me?” you asked and John’s jaw dropped. He looked horrified. Everyone else just sipped their drinks in silence.

“Why do you ask?” he said, he didn’t look confused. He looked more like he was trying to look confused. “Because you went to London to get me something.” you said it finally.

Ada and Polly seemed to regret that they had told you because they lit a cigarette at the same time when you said it.

“I can’t believe they told you!” John got angry at you and everyone else for no reason. It was obvious he was hiding something and you needed to know what.

“So it’s true.” you asked, he nodded without saying anything. “Where is the gift then?” you stood up in anger.

Your joy had disappeared, John had left you down. You didn’t even want a gift but the thought of him actually travelling to get you something had given you hope. It gave you hope about you and him.

“I think we should leave.” Tommy said, everyone looked at each other and nodded. “Please don’t.” you begged. John did nothing, didn’t even react.

Polly left her seat to come hug you. “Today’s been great dear but I think it’s better if you and John talk alone.” she told you. You got it now, it wasn’t because they wanted to leave. It was because they didn’t want John to leave. You were both getting heated and John tended to run away when he got overwhelmed.

“Okay, see you all later.” you said, everyone hugged you once again and wished you happy birthday. Then you and John were left alone.

He was still sitting the same way, hadn’t even moved a bit. He was looking at you with dull eyes. He looked sad. You didn’t want a great day, your birthday to end like this.

“John, where is the gift you got from London?” you sat down on your knees right before John’s feet. He sighed, his hands moved around his stubbly chin.

“I don’t think I should give it.” John said softly. His voice was low, his tone had so much pain. “Why?” you asked immediately, you had to know.

“Because it’s a fucking ring and you’re in love with someone else!” he yelled. You put your hand on his knee. You laughed loudly. You couldn’t stop laughing.

“You were going to propose to me?” you just thought he was joking. “Yes.” he simply answered, you kept laughing

“No dating phase, you were just going to ask your best friend to marry you.” you heard yourself say and it made you laugh even harder.

“Stop laughing! How is my heartbreak funny?” John’s voice cracked. You finally stopped laughing. “My Johnny Boy, how can you be so blind.” you said. John raised his eyebrows.

“Yeah, blind enough to think you would say yes so I went to London and got you a custom made ring.” your eyes opened wide. “No you stupid shit! You're the guy I love, I was talking about you!” you jumped on your feet and yelled.

John took a deep breath, “What?” you laughed again. “John Shelby, I love you and no one else.” you confessed finally, “I only made up someone else because I didn’t know how to tell you.” you finally let it go.

“So you love me the way I love you.” he asked, you smiled and nodded. He stood up too, put his hand in his pocket and took out a box.

“No dating phase because I wanna wake up next to you every morning.” he said as he sat down on one knee. Your eyes teared up, you couldn’t believe your eyes and ears.

“Y/N Y/L/N, will you give me the honour to be your husband?” John opened the box to reveal an emerald ring. You were mesmerized by the shine of the ring and also by his proposal.

“Yes, a million times yes!” you shouted, took the ring out yourself and put it on. John dropped the empty box on the floor and hugged you. He hugged you and you never wanted to let go.

“This is going so fast, it’s kind of scary.” you admitted while your head was resting on his shoulder. “Let’s speed it up a little more.” he said and pulled himself back a little. “Kiss me Y/N.” he said and you did what he said.

Your lips met his. They weren’t like how you imagined they would be. They weren’t chapped like they seemed, they were soft and smooth. They were warm, the warmth of his lips heated your whole body.

Your soul was leaving your body to join his. You never thought this would be how you ended up together. It was fast but you knew each other well and long enough to skip the dating.

All you both wished for was each other and nothing more. Your wish was finally true.

#john shelby #peaky blinders #peaky blinders x you #peaky blinders x y/n #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders oneshot #peaky blinders imagine #john shelby x reader #john shelby x y/n #john shelby x you #john shelby fanfic #john shelby oneshot #john shelby imagine

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noirineverysense · 3 years

Text

Chapter 11

Previous >> Masterlist >> Next

Arthur sits in his office chair, a laptop in front of him. More memories of his time captured had resurfaced because of recent events. He had waited until the others had gone to bed to do his research.

His search history included the terms ‘human experimentation’, ‘Dr Myers’, nurses in green’. But nothing useful had come up.

He leans back in his cushioned chair and sighs tiredly. It had been six years now and it felt like he hadn’t gotten much closer to the truth since then.

He hears footsteps approach the office and he smiles in relief when he sees Isaac appear around the corner. He hadn’t told the others what had happened to him and he was too tired to bother coming up with a excuse for working this late when they didn’t have a case.

Then he looks at Isaac’s expression, lips tightly closed and brows bunched. He looked full of worry and guilt?

“I’ve got something to admit,” Isaac starts.

Then, Arthur watches in shock as the words fall out of his oldest friend’s mouth. Explanations of his odd behaviour the past few days and his actions behind Arthur’s back.

“You did what!” Arthur yells, horrified.

“I didn’t have a choice!”

“I told you those things in confidence, because you said that you would help me. I trusted you!”

“I thought it would help! We needed help and they offered and- ”

“Fuck that.” Arthur puts his head in his hands, “You knew what you were doing.”

Isaac gapes in shock, “I was trying to protect you!”

Arthur’s lifts his head, eyes narrowed. “How in the hell is telling the government about me protecting me!”

“This is too big for us. We need help. We need protection from a facility that would send contract killers to torture and murder us. And you know it’s connected to what happened to you!”

“They weren’t actually trying to kill us.”

“You told me they pulled a gun on Nasira!” Isaac shouts, “You transformed in front of the guy they hired. It’ll get back to MEKHA, then they’ll be on the hunt for you as well as Max!”

“Did you just forget what happened to me?! The military did something to me and turned me into this monster. And now you just want to send them to my door!” Arthur feels a wave of nausea and panic. His eyes dart around the room, feeling trapped in his own home.

“You’re not - ”

“You found a way to get rid of me, congratulations.”

Isaac heart drops to his stomach, “I’m not - ”

“I get it. You got sick of having to constantly pick me up off the floor. The door’s just there, you know!” he seethes, the usually warm eyes turned cold.

“Arthur, please - ”

“But that wasn’t enough, was it? You had to get back at me for all the time I wasted.” he snaps. Then his eyes widen at the realisation of his words. He sucks a breath in.

“Well for what it’s worth, I’m sorry.” he says finally.

Isaac looked shocked; his mouth tries to form words but fails.

I-I’m sorry you wasted all that time with me.” Isaac watches as the copper brown of Arthur’s eyes blur with tears. He feels a part of him break.

“Arthur - ”

“You should leave.” The words leave his mouth before he realises what he’s saying, “I can’t deal with this right now.”

Isaac swallows before grabbing a coat.

“Arthur, I swear I wasn’t doing that. I- “, his voice shakes as he turns to leave, “I love you.”

The other man was about to react when footsteps start coming down the stairs. He swipes tears out of his eyes as his partner walks out of the door.

Nasira, Max and Zak stop in the middle of the stairs. Max’s eyes roam the lounge underneath them.

“Who were you shouting at?” he asks tiredly.

Arthur sighs, “They’re gone now. Go to back to bed.”

“Where’s Isaac? I heard him before.” Zak questions.

“He went to bed.” he lies. “You should too.”

Zak frowns, “I didn’t hear him go upstairs.”

“Kid, please!” the man yells. “Go to sleep!”

Max and Zak flinch at his tone and run to quickly comply. Arthur feels his nausea from earlier gets worse.

Nasira watches them go before making her way down. She faces Arthur with an eyebrow raised.

“Where is he?” she asks simply.

“Gone.”

His mind flashes back to the days when they first start the agency. Isaac’s easy smiles as he carries boxes into their new office. Their celebration at their first client. The remade promises to find out what had happened to him.

How happy they were in their new home. The one he just kicked his partner out of.

“Why?” Nasira frowns.

Arthur turns around, “Because of me.” he says.

Tears leaked out of his eyes.

“Because I’m a monster."

Taglist: @tinyplan3ts

#whumptober2021 #no.16 #on a need to know basis #oc #fic #break up #falling out #mentions of human experimentation #arthur/isaac #acp

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facets-and-rainbows · 4 years

Text

Blue Exorcist 10th anniversary book Q&A session

The 10th anniversary book has a section where Katoh answers 100 questions submitted by fans on Twitter, so here they are translated/paraphrased! May contain manga spoilers up to the recent flashback arc, so be warned.

(Note that I’m playing it very fast and loose here because there are A HUNDRED OF THEM, so not exact wordings, but it should capture the gist. Lemme know if there are any you want elaborated on)

1. Katoh likes the feel of traditional drawing more than digital but is impressed with how far digital has come

2. Meph THOROUGHLY ABUSES spacetime to watch all his shows and ensure that he gets all the merch he wants

3. Did the girls take all of Yukio’s school uniform buttons in middle school? Yes, they did (apparently it’s like A Thing for girls to ask for a button from their crush at middle school graduation, based on some sad movie from the 60s where a guy who got drafted as a kamikaze pilot gave a girl one of his uniform buttons to remember him by)

4. Rin's tail is about a meter long

5. There are tons of servants working at Mephisto's mansion. Belial is in charge of them

6. Katoh borrows from all sorts of neat real locations when making settings

7. Katoh identifies with pretty much all the characters the most! Except Lucifer.

8. Demon designs she's proud of include the impure king and hachirou, pretty much anything that was the main one in an arc

9. Katoh lists a bunch of her favorite musical artists/music she’s listening to recently: King Gnu, Official Hige Dandism, Kenshi Yonezu, BAD HOP, Sakanaction, Keyakizaka 46, Hypnosis Mic, Aimer, B’Z, Queen Bee.

10. Awww the rabbit manga that characters are often reading isn't just Robo to Usakichi, it's an even older one that she drew as a little kid

11. She likes industrial style interior designs

12. Rin and Yukio alternated who got the top bunk growing up, because they couldn't agree on it lol

13. Katoh cares a whole lot about panel layouts and speech bubble positions, might even be her favorite part of the process (it shows!)

4. Katoh does NOT have a mashou, lol

15. Rin has probably been practicing in secret so he can learn to carry stuff with his tail

16. Izumo probably got into shojo manga around 1st grade, her mom had some around the house

17. Specialty dishes: Rin - lots of stuff but especially nabe Yuri - stuff you can throw together quickly Shiro - stuff he learned from Yuri and/or cookbooks, alongside teaching Rin Yukio - Does. Not. Cook.

18. Can't pick a favorite place she's been on research, but there's no place like Japan

19. Kinzou's band isn't currently meeting because demons, but he's probably still thinking of new songs

20. Hardest characters to draw: anyone with detailed flowing hair. Hardest to write for: Lightning and Gedouin. She had to go read books about serial killers specifically for material for Gedouin, lol

21. Suguro actually gets a dorm room to himself, though allegedly Yukio is technically assigned as his roommate, lol. Didn't end up that way what with Yukio being a teacher and also Rin’s whole...situation

22. Shiemi makes some of her own hair accessories! Cute

23. Katoh doesn't mind if you include stuff with fan letters but check with the editor first

24. Time for making each chapter: Planning/storyboarding: 1-5 days. Sketching: 3-5 days. Drawing/inking: the rest. Just...the rest of the time

25. Neither Suguro nor Izumo have dated before and neither is currently dating. But that's probably just because things were hectic for them! It could happen

26. Yukio breaks 5 or 6 pairs of glasses a year, someone get this kid a strap or something

27. How many spare glasses does Yukio have? Check the fanbook lol it's in there (dang it Katoh)

28. The demon she wants us to pay the most attention to is Lucifer. Because plot.

29. What's under the Order's big meeting table? It's a BOTTOMLESS PIT and if you fall in it you DIE that's what makes it COOL (laughs)

30. What are the job requirements for the angelic legion? Literally just Arthur liking you and inviting you to join

31. She WANTS to do more character profiles but just hasn't gotten to it

32. Rin's tail feels like a cat tail, texture wise

33. The "red Assiah fire" is literally just actual fire nothing special

34. Rin's current hair color is light blue fading to white at the ends

35. Thoughts on Rin's growth: she likes that he stays positive in awful situations and she also thinks it's very main character of him to face the past instead of avoiding it

36. Mephisto didn't purposely surround Rin with stuffed animals when he woke up after going crispy. Mephisto's bed is just Like That

37. Kurikara was based on a cool sword she found in a sword book, but that one was technically just a ceremonial sword. The symbol on it us a Sanskrit letter kaan (sp?) associated with Fudou Myouou

38. Kuro can communicate with normal cats and hangs out with them often

39. Sometimes Shiemi's skirt is extra fancy around the hem what's up with that? Apparently it's an optional accessory that comes with the skirts help I haven't noticed this and don't know any fashion terms in any language

40. When coloring, Katoh always tries to have an overall theme in mind ("emphasis on blue" etc) so it comes together in the end

41. Yes the twins are genetically related to Shiro because of Goro (she says they're like his nephews but I say GENETICALLY at least they'd be indistinguishable from his children)

42. Strongest mom of all the strong moms around here? Yuri! Did you SEE her give birth??

43. Are you careful about your own health Katoh-sensei? Not particularly! Her mom has had to bring her food at work sometimes! Don't do this at home kids

44. At the dating events Shura goes to, does she drink cocktails in moderation? Yeah, she probably downplays her normal drinking habits at these things. But normally she's down for just about any kind of drink

45. Lucifer just really likes oysters okay

46. How many pages of manga does Katoh draw in a day? If she's being good about self-care: three. Maximum number ever: TEN

47. Mephisto is one of those folks who can eat like a garbage compactor and never gain weight. Possibly because his body resists that sort of change the same way it resists aging etc

48. First food Rin cooked: fish burger type patty. Yukio's favorite things Rin cooks: fish simmered in soy sauce, yellowtail with daikon radish. It's fish all the way down

49: Did Rin ever get more monthly allowance from Mephisto? It doubled! He gets TWO 2000 yen bills now (rip) [T/N: That's uh, that's USD $37.26 a month or 33.10 euro]

50. Why isn't Rin more popular with the girls? He gets nervous talking to them, plus he's too oblivious to notice even if he DID have some fans

51. Why change Suguro's hair? She gets bored with keeping everything the same, and she wanted a visual representation that he was getting serious and going into kind of a training arc

52. Things Katoh pays extra attention to when drawing: trying to capture the feel of whatever she's drawing (like "that looks warm and soft" or "I bet that guy stinks" cough Lightning cough)

53: Does Rin take after Yuri more? (He's got her eyes!) Katoh tried to draw Yuri so she looks like both twins. Personality, too - Yukio has her smarts and Rin has her optimism

54: Do you ever wanna be like Mephisto? Well she'd like to be able to get away with just ANYTHING EVER, but no, let's not be like Mephisto

55. Konekomaru not only carries around a cat toy in case he meets any cats, he MAKES cat toys to carry around based on what he thinks the cats would like

56. How'd you come up with Shima? Go read the fan book!

57. Do the kids have Twitter/Instagram accounts? Rin - probably not. Konekomaru might be on some social media. Paku and Izumo are totally on instagram

58. Is there something Rin makes that you wish you could try? All of it! That's the whole idea! He's good at cooking!

59. Will we ever have a (G-rated) reveal of what ALL of Mamushi and her family's tattoos look like? Maybe! She'll think about it

60. Does Arthur have a repertoire of different hairstyles? Not really, he just puts some of it up on the top. Heck he might even have people to do that for him

61. If you wrote a shojo manga what would it be about? She'd have to do a lot of research before even coming up with a story, since there are so many style differences between the genres aside from just the subject

62. The other two of Mephisto's top 3 favorite foods: Cup ramen and....f-fried bubblegum?? Is that a THING???

63. Where do you start when drawing a character? Usually the outline of their face but if it's a complex pose/composition she'll start with whatever's in the foreground (like hands)

64. If Katoh could have a familiar, what demon would she choose? Mephisto. As the all-powerful author, she might actually be able to command him as a familiar!

66. If you swapped Yukio and Rin's relationship around what would change? not much, you'd pretty much have Rin going to the Illuminati and Yukio going to the past

67. Top 3 foods/souvenirs to try in Kyushu? Well she doesn't know what’s good CURRENTLY but when she was there she always used to like burdock tempura udon, hakata torimon (a kind of manju with white bean paste inside), and Chikae style cod roe. today I learned Katoh went to high school in Kyushu

68. Katoh listens to music a lot while she's storyboarding, then when she and the assistants are all drawing and inking they put various videos/movies and stuff on in the background

69. For all his hitting on girls, is Shima actually popular with the ladies at all? He's got enough girls in his life that he probably COULD find a girlfriend if he really wanted, but the double agent thing tends to get in the way. He still wouldn't be as popular as Yukio though (side thought/translator’s note: Shima would be proud of being number 69.)

70. Katoh has the ending planned out in a big-picture way, but there are still a few details here and there that she's fretting over

71. It's cute when the boys put their ties over their shoulders when they're working on something! Where'd that come from? She just figured a tie might get in the way and that seemed like a realistic way to get it out of the way

72. Looks like Yukio is getting some facial hair! What about Rin? They're both about the age for it, but maybe Rin can't grow a beard yet. Maybe a little peach fuzz here and there

73. Katoh's favorite blue exorcist merch? There were some exorcist licenses a while back, and the exorcist pins. Basically it's really cool that these little accessories she drew ACTUALLY EXIST NOW, LIKE YOU CAN HOLD THEM IN YOUR HANDS

74. Okay realtalk how long do we have left, I don't want the series to end yet? We're solidly in the second half by now but it's not, like, ABOUT to end yet

75. Katoh would be a Knight meister, based on what characters she likes to play in games and such

76. How many people in the whole exorcism cram school? More than you think! She doesn't give a number but apparently licensed exorcists also attend classes for new meisters, etc, so there's a wide age range attending

77. How's Arthur feel about, like, studying Taming on the way to becoming Paladin? He's at least mostly accepted that you have to use demons to fight demons effectively

78. Konekomaru started wearing glasses in his first year of middle school, so like 7th grade (more recent than I thought!) He has one spare pair, in contrast to Yukio lol

79. Katoh's current obsessions? Ghost/scary stories! She's even been going to live readings of them recently

80. Media Katoh consumes for inspiration? A wide range of foreign teen drama, horror/suspense, shojo manga, light novels, anime, etc. Special focus on things where two boys are in conflict or there are brothers involved

81. If they weren't exorcists what jobs would they have? Rin - chef. Yukio - doctor. Shiemi - uh, florist?

82. Inspiration for the design of True Cross Town? Katoh and her assistants gathered up a bunch of references, picked out stuff they felt matched the tone, and mashed them all up together

83. Did you use any references etc for the school/exorcist uniforms? She says she probably should have but she just kind of made them up before publication

84. Favorite part of drawing? For color pages, picking out a color scheme. For black and white, drawing in all the little details (though she doesn't always get time to lately)

85. Once again confirms the demon kings' weird hair is a representation of their horns. ADDS THAT PEOPLE WHO CAN'T SEE DEMONS CAN'T SEE THE WEIRD HAIR

86. Now that Yukio's at the Illuminati, where's he gonna get his Jump SQ and spare glasses? Well he probably never planned to stay for long, but hey it's a big ship and they might have an optometrist and/or newsstand there

87. Do you base the demon characters on any references etc? Not really, she just gets a general idea of popular demon designs and then makes up her own in her own style

88. Merchandise Katoh personally wants to have made: stuff that an adult could just use in their day to day life. Also, it's not gonna happen, but if her favorite figure brand made AoEx figures she could die happy

89. If Beelzebub's host body was a beautiful woman, how would Shima react? Would the womanizing win out over the bug phobia? Katoh replies that Shima would probably just faint from being near a girl that pretty, before the bugs even got involved

90. Will the twins ever get to smile and eat dinner together again?? We'll just have to wait and see!

91. What do you check at a "scenario check"? what's a scenario check man I dunno They check for people being out of character or the setting feeling off. They had a lot of these checks for the anime, but they also do them for the drama CD, games, and all that other stuff where multiple authors are involved

92. Why does Shura use baldy as an insult for people who are clearly not bald? She feels like they have some kind of metaphorical, mental kind of "baldness" and she's calling them out on it. Whatever that means

93. After Blue Exorcist ends, what do you want to draw next? She has SO MANY IDEAS, SO MANY

94. Did Katoh make up the Shinto chants that, for example, Izumo used against Gedouin? They're assembled from bits of actual Shinto prayers according to what feels right in the scene

95. Yukio reads the Jump SQ, right, and, just hear me out here, he likes gag manga, right? Does this mean he reads Salaryman Yukio? It's something he would read, but let's say that in the AoEx universe there's just a very similar manga that he finds oddly relatable

96. What do Yukio and Shima do in their free time on the Dominus Liminus? oh my god you guys this ship has so many amenities. Yukio probably spends time reading in the library, which they totally have. There's also, like, a gym, and a movie theater, and a THEATER theater, all of which are free. Shima probably hangs out at the pool (!) and goes to the movies, and hits on illuminati girls, lol

97. Easiest character to draw? The ones with boring simple hair, lol. Lightning gets an honorable mention for ALSO not having eyes in most shots, but Rin wins--he was specifically designed to be easy for Katoh to draw because that's what you want in your main character

98. How do demons understand gender? They just possess whatever feels like the best match to how they feel in Gehenna, whether that's a man, or a woman, or a rat, or whatever

99. Where do you start when you're coming up with a story? She starts with character design and how the characters relate to each other. Currently she's just continuing an existing story, so she works on splitting up the overall plot into episodes and fleshing it out with scenes and information about characters

100. When do you feel most happy? She honestly feels like she lives a very happy life overall. Mentions noticing a lot of little things, like how nice her cats' heads smell when she cuddles them or taking a nice cold refreshing drink of water. There's happiness in everything. aww.

#blue exorcist #interview #Ao no Exorcist #translation

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charliedawn · 3 years

Text

How would they react to the new arrival ?

" Hi everybody. My name is Y/N and I am the head nurse around here. If you have any questions, you can ask them to me. I see here that two of you are transfers from St John's, so you'll be assigned to miss Harrison's department..However, I see here that mister Wendell Crumb has just been released from prison ? Who is mister Wendell Crumb ?"

A close cut man raises his hand with a slight smile.

" That would be me."

You smile back before checking something on your file.

" Fine. You'll be transferred to my department. However, I see here that you've got many names..May I ask who I am talking to ?"

Wendell Crumb suddely straightens up and stares right at you with a very unsettling smile.

" I'm Barry. Nice to meet you.."

You raise an eyebrow suspiciously before looking down at his file. Creepy smile. Judgy stare. Feminine stand..Yeah, definitely not Barry..

" I'm sorry, but in order for us to get along, honesty is the key..Now, could you please tell me who you really are ?"

The man's smile only widens as he congratulates you.

" Clever girl. I'm Patricia. Nice to meet you."

He then claps with both hands and you narrow your eyes, trying to figure the new patient out. He seems harmless enough, even though his file seems to suggest the contrary. A great pretender. After all the effort you had put in getting the patients to trust you, this one would surely bring chaos. You could already tell by just looking at him in the eyes: he wasn't here to get better.

You sigh before closing the file and signaling to the patient to follow you as Harrison enters. Wendell Crumb is almost too eager to follow you. You can feel his stare on you, as if he was sizing you up and down.

" The patients are eating, I suppose it is a good time to get acquainted with them and make some new friends. What do you think ?"

You smile and try to be nice to him, but he doesn't answer. He only huffs before looking away. You open the door to the cafeteria and feel the stare of all the slashers on you and the new arrival. Patricia seems to be doing a quick assessment of each slasher before finally landing on you.

" By what I heard, I thought I would be meeting fearless and bloodthirsty demons..But all I can see is a bunch of old-timers."

Your eyes widen in shock at his words and you can see some of the slashers tense. However, far from being intimidated, Kevin widely grins and seems to slouch slightly, taking another personality you guess.

" Hi guys ! I'm Hedwig ! I'm soooo excited to meet all of you ! Patricia said you were like us ! That's like, totally cool !"

To that, Freddy is the first to answer with a mocking smirk.

" Great. Another kid..Me who thought we would finally be enough to play poker. What a disappointment..Can he at least change his own grown-up diapers ?"

Suddenly, Hedwig's joyful expression shifts to a much serious one that glares daggers at Freddy.

" What did you say, steak face ?"

Oh oh. Freddy's expression darkens and he stands up to face Kevin that only arks an eyebrow at him, a silent challenge. One that Freddy is eager to respond to.

" What did you call me, baldie ?"

But, far from feeling intimidated, Kevin only stares down at him with a little smirk.

" You heard me, midget.."

You can feel the tension rising and put yourself between the two of them promptly.

" Hey ! That's enough ! Be nice ! And you.."

You turn towards Freddy with furrowed eyebrows, clearly displeased.

"..I told you to hold your tongue with them."

Freddy only humphs unhappily before getting out of your grip and glaring at Kevin that only grins defiantly at him.

" What ? That's it ? This is the infamous Freddy Krueger ? The bringer of nightmares and slayer of children ? I must admit that I am deeply disappointed.."

Patricia, she wants to rile him up. You quickly get another nurse to get Freddy to sit back down before he gives in to his violent impulses. You then glare at Kevin before taking him by the arm for him to follow you outside of the room.

" What are you trying to do exactly ?! Get killed ?!"

But, far from feeling guilty, Kevin's grin only widens as he stares directly back at you for several seconds, as if looking deep inside your soul..At the end, he pretends to be apologetic by raising his hands in surrender and finally giving some kind of explanation for his behavior.

" I'm sorry. I'm just feeling overwhelmed, garden variety issue..You understand. We mustn't let the bad seeds take roots, or we may end up with bad weed issues.."

At this, Pennywise that had followed you discreetly gets out of his hiding spot to growl menacingly at Kevin.

" Bad weed ?! Who are you calling bad weed, pal ?! I'll show you bad weed."

But one stern look from you, and Pennywise reconsiders. But, he is still glaring daggers at Kevin that only giggles maniacally while you get him back inside. However, he doesn't miss the way you instinctively hold on to the pendent hanging around your neck..What a strange necklace..? He turns his head towards the slashers that all seem on edge now, like a pack of wolves ready to attack. However, it's even worse when he suddenly takes you by the shoulders to smell you behind your ear, his gaze still fixed on the gang that seems ready to jump into action at any moment..Even Pennywise doesn't notice that he is munching on his spoon instead 9f his actual food. You try to get out of his grip, but he only tightens his grip on you as a response.

" What ? Are you all her lapdogs now ? I see the appeal..But still, to think she managed to have you all around her little finger..The strongest men on Earth, all submitting to that small bite."

As if to prove his point, he starts nibbling on the top of your ear, waiting for a reaction. However, before anyone could do anything, Kevin feels something piercing his skin and turns around to see a smirking Five with a needle in his hand.

" Nighty night."

Kevin collapses and you quickly kneel by his side to take his pulse. Thankfully, he's alive and you ask some nurses to bring him back to his room. You had agreed with the hospital not to use the collars unless it was a case of extreme emergency, looks like this could be one..

" Thank you, Five. But, dont use medical supplies without my permission again, okay ?"

He doesn't lose his smile before replying casually, hands in his pockets.

" Can't promise anything.."

The slashers are still staring at Kevin that is dragged out of the room. It takes you a while to reassure them that you're fine, even longer to convince yourself. However, Five seems even more suspicious than usual, he seems to be eager to return to his bedroom, and he was late for lunch..But, you don't have the time to worry about him. You finally manage to get them all to return to their bedrooms and walk inside your own. There, you let the mask fall and collapse on your bed, burying your face in a nearby pillow in order to muffle your tears and screams. Each time, you try to contain your own fear for the safety of the patients and yourself, but just with one touch, this new individual had made all of your walls crumble. However, you have to get it together, you couldn't let the other patients see you like this..You get up and cough a bit before cleaning yourself up. You then open the door, not expecting all the patients tumbling inside as they were listening in..You sigh and pinch the bridge of your nose.

" What did I say about listening on doors ?"

They all stand up and look at everything but your face or simply try to justify themselves.

" Look, hon..We were only worried..Kinda ?"

Freddy tries to explain, but you take a big inspiration before stepping out. This is just what you needed: serial killers worrying about you.

" It's the hour of your medication. How about Michael and Five come to help me in the kitchen while you wait in the your rooms ?"

You finally decide to ignore Freddy and are surprised when Arthur takes you gently by the arm so you can look up at them.

"Hey, don't shut us down. Freddy is right, we were only worried."

You eyes soften at their genuine concern, but you quickly shake the feeling away. You had faced far worse, but this patient scared you the most..because he had attacked you as if he already knew, as if he knew who you were before you even introduced yourself. You will have to keep a close eye on that one, that's for sure. Fortunately, the patients hadn't reacted too extremely, or it would have turned bad, very very bad..You don't know why the hospital had suddenly decided to add another patient, but one thing is for sure, this new patient wasn't transferred here, he was sent here with a purpose. Now, your goal is to discover whatever purpose that is. You are on your way to his room when you realize something..You hadn't seen Jason all morning. He wasn't there for lunch either. You feel cold sweat running down your back when you suddenly hear some fighting noises. You run in the direction of the sounds and are shocked to see Jason, Five and, surprisingly, Klaus in Kevin's room. You don't have the time to ask what the last one is here that Jason takes Kevin by his shirt and throws him through the window.

You look at Five for an explanation, but he doesn't look at you and looks at the broken window instead.

" Did he just..?"

" Yup. He just did.."

Klaus confirms before turning towards you with a small awkward smile.

" Can someone please explain to me why a civilian is here and why Jason just threw Kevin out of the damn window ?!"

You exclaim and for once, Five is speechless and it's his brother that decides to step up to explain the situation to you.

" Hi. I'm Klaus, Five's older brother and I was about to help him escape until we heard noises of a fight outside. We got out and saw a bold man talking and fighting our dear sweet Jason that threw said man flying through the window. Literally."

Your eyes widen at the news of his planned escape and then look at Five with a confused frown. The idea of escaping wasn't what surprised you the most, but why would he want to leave now ? However, before you could ask, Jason, who is clearly upset, pushes right past you with angry groans and an uneven breathing. You give a stern look at Five, clearly signifying that this discussion isn't over before running after Jason before he could murder Kevin. When you get out, you see that all of the slashers had encircled Kevin that seems angrier than ever.

" I'll kill you all !"

He shouts, but Freddy only cackles while leaning against the wall, with the sunglasses you had given him sitting on his nose, and Pennywise that has a bowl of popcorn in his hands.

" Come on, Jason ! We'll enjoy the massacre..There are no witnesses. Just show that clown who's the boss ! No offense.."

He quickly adds at the end to Pennywise that only smirks before fist-bumping him.

" None taken."

You run to stand between the two huge men that don't seem to even notice you. You look at Michael for help, but he only crosses his arms, clearly implying that he wouldn't interfere. Great..You think before turning towards the devil you know, your hands outstretched towards him.

" Stop, Jason. Please. This is not you. Whatever he told you, it is not worth this. You will be punished, severely. They will maybe not kill you, but they will lock you away, somewhere nobody will ever find you again.."

Jason seems to finally snap out of it and you smile when he takes your hand and yanks you forward with his supernatural strength. You chuckle, relieved while he hugs you. But then, you hear a loud sound behind you and turn around swiftly to see..Brahms ?! Brahms just took Kevin by the throat to crash the back of his head against the concrete and his hands are now around his throat, squeezing painfully tight. You run towards them and try to get Brahms to let go, but he only tightens his grip on him as you yell.

" Let go, Brahms ! What are you doing ?! I said let go !"

But he doesn't listen to you, even worse, he gives you a hard blow to the stomach with his elbow that knocks all air out of your lungs. However, you still find the strength to get up and this is when Brahms finally shouts furiously.

" He took my doll !"

You are surprised how he managed to form a whole sentence without stammering and also horrified by the news. Brahms' doll is Brahms' most precious possession, no wonder he wants to kill Kevin. But then, Kevin laughs and spits blood on Brahms' mask.

" Idiot. You kill me, you won't get the doll and they'll throw you in the darkest deepest hole they can find.."

You know that he is telling the truth and look at Brahms that doesn't seem to be willing to stop. You take a big breath before finally taking out the pendent they had offered you. You hold it tightly in your hand before ordering Brahms to stop.

" Stop, Brahms ! Let him go ! Now !"

Suddenly, as if under some kind of transe, Brahms straightens up and finally releases Kevin. Brahms then slowly turns towards you and walks to you until he is barely a few inches away from you and leans in so close you can hear his hectic breathing. You almost fear for your life and hold on to the pendent even tighter.

However, he only humphs and walks away. You look up and, for once, see the disappointment in the different slashers' eyes. They all saw what happened, what you used to control Brahms.

" I..I didn't want to.."

But it's too late, the damage is done. The Joker, that had stayed silent so far, suddenly bursts our laughing, but it doesn't quite reach his eyes as he tells you bitterly.

" You know why Jason attacked Kevin ? Because he said that you were using us..Looks like he wasn't so wrong after all.."

He walks past you, not even giving you a second glance. You turn towards the rest of the slashers that seem either angry or even fearful of you.

" P..Penny..?"

You try to extend your hand towards Penny that is eyeing you warily and who growls warningly at you when your hand is too close. Suddenly, a hand snatches yours to yank you backwards.

" Back off, lady !"

Pennywise cautions you, his eyes glowing yellow in the dark. However, suddenly, some armed forces enter the yard and get out tazers to restrain the patients. You see one of the guards tackle Pennywise to the ground. To your horror, Penny bites the guard's shoulder that screams loudly in pain. Before you could say anything, another guard shoots some tranquilizers at the Penny that collapses.

" No..No !"

You run towards Penny and cradle his face with tears in your eyes. It wasn't supposed to go this way. What had gone wrong ? You look up at Pennywise that is now restrained and muzzled. He tries to break free to reach Penny, but the guards won't let him.

" Pennywise..I'm..I'm so s.."

But he glares at you and cuts you off harshly.

" Nah. Save your breath, princess.."

Pennywise says while eyeing you up and down with new-found disdain, even Freddy is not smiling anymore. The slashers are brought back inside with shackles and you feel your lower lip quivering. You didn't want to use the pendent, but he was going to kill Kevin and..You look back to see that Kevin is smiling. He even dares giggles when some guards come to take him away.

" Rejoice ! You are of the worthy ! You are broken !"

You don't understand and frown in confusion, but he doesn't add anything. You sigh deeply before getting back inside as well, you had to make it up to them..somehow.

" You really think it's a good idea ? We aren't even sure that Kevin will be able to accomplish his mission."

But the woman, far from being worried, only puffs out a cloud of smoke and replies with a confident smile.

" Believe me, John. It will work..Soon, we'll have the slashers at our mercy. They'll be our little tin soldiers. And nothing will be able to stop us, brother.."

#fandoms #imagine #pennywise 1990 #fanfic #pennywise 1990 x y/n x pennywise 2017 #pennywise 2017 #pennywise x reader #brahms heelsire x reader #jason voorhees x reader #michael myers x reader #freddy krueger x reader #the joker x reader #number five x reader #five hargreeves #arthur fleck #kevin wendell crumb

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lo-55 · 3 years

Text

Playing With Fire Ch. 3

Ignition

@emrysaf

You’ve decided. You’re going to marry Maki.

You’re going to marry her and adopt Sputter and Flare, and you’ll all live happily ever after in the cathedral and-

You’re broken out of your thoughts when Maki smacks you so hard you literally see stars and throws you on the ground.

“... owe.”

If everything else hadn’t cemented the fact that you were really living inside Fire Force, the pain of Maki’s fist and the hard concrete under your cheek sure would have. Holy hell, how was she so strong?

You roll over on your back to look up at her.

“I bet,” you begin, “that you could bench press me if you really wanted to.”

Maki’s cheeks pink and she huffs down at you. “Why aren’t you using your pyrokinesis? Do you think I can’t handle it?”

I have no idea how to do that!

“Nope, Nope! I’m sure you could wipe the floor with me, it’s not that miss!” You said quickly. “I was just in awe of you, sorry,” you salute quickly, and watch pink crawl across Maki’s face.

So cute!!

“H-honestly! At least use your spear!”

You perk up. Spear? The Sun Spear? Is that what you have here? An answer! Finally! An answer!

Maki takes your surprise for something else. “No one told you that they’d sent it over ahead of you? You should really keep better of your gear.”

You dip your head quickly. “Yes, yes. Sorry. Can you show me where it is, please?”

“Sure,” Maki smiles at you, “We’re about done for now, anyhow. Let’s go back inside and wash up. Sister Iris and Shinra should be waiting.”

Maki takes you back into the cathedral, away from the training area on the roof. The cathedral really is pretty run down. The walls could use a good scrubbing, the floor boards either need to be replaced or are missing entirely, and there’s a lot of cracks in the tile and missing corners. The windows are fine, if not dusty, and the stained glass pieces are really beautiful. The whole place smells faintly of burnt wood and gun oil. It’s not bad, but its certainly unfamiliar. Everything is so vivid. The way it smells. The sound of the building settling, and the birds outside, and the voices of your new comrades.

It’s amazing.

Kinda terrifying, but crazy cool too.

After a quick shower for each of you Maki shows you to the weapons room, where a long, thin case is rested against a wall between two racks of guns. Obi’s shield is propped up in one corner, along with a couple of his weird stabbing things that he puts infernals to rest with. You’ve been here two days now, and you’ve seen him use it twice.

You don’t know how, but you know instinctively that that case belongs to you.

You go to it. There’s a strap along the back, like the kind on a violin case. You carefully set it on a table, mindful of the bullets stacked on top of it. With a few clicks you undo the buttons on either end and open up the case. Inside is a long staff, deep red in color and capped at the bottom with copper colored metal that curves into a diamond point. On the opposite end is a thin band of the same metal, that reveals the inside to be hollow.

You pick it up carefully, testing its weight in your hands. It feels natural. Even though you’ve never actually fought with a spear before your body knows where to hold it, and how to spin it around elegantly until you’re facing Maki again. Your body knows how much space you’re taking up, and how not to hit the walls, while your brain geeks out over the fact that you’re actually holding the Sun Lance.

So cool!

Is it conceited to say that you’re super cool? Or that this was hella badass?

You were almost bouncing on your toes you were so excited.

“Wow, I didn’t know you missed your spear this much,” Maki smiled at you. “You look good with it.”

“Aha, you think so? It’s just nice to have it I guess. This has been, I dunno. An adventure already. I’m in a strange place, with strange people, and I’m in an awfully dangerous situation. It’s been an adjustment, ya know?”

You feel like a fool for rambling, but Maki smiles at you kindly.

“I understand. Even though I was raised in a military family, it took me a while to get used to life as a fire soldier too. Don’t worry too much about it, and you know, we’re always here to help. It’s not like you have to go it alone.”

You’re heart warms with her words. “Yeah. Thank you, Maki. You’re really a nice person.”

Once the Sun Lance is safe in its case the two of you leave the armory, and make your way to the dorm rooms.

Since the company is so small, each person gets their own room. In bigger companies you would be in actually dorms, or barracks, but the eighth only has Obi, Hinawa, Maki, Sister Iris, Shinra, and yourself. Arthur will be here soon too, and Tamaki. Your small company will grow soon.

Your own room ended up being at the top of one of the towers on the west side of the cathedral, opposite of the garage. Which meant that last night, when the alarm had gone off, you’d been the last to arrive at the Matchbox. Near the garage are the locker rooms, and the communal showers, although there’s more bathrooms scattered through the base.

In the center of the cathedral is the courtyard where Sister Iris purifies herself, and grows flowers.

It’s really a nice place.

“Thank you,” you say again, and Maki nods to you and leaves you to climb the steps on your own. You shut the door and lock it behind you.

Your room is scant, all things considered. A bunk bed it pushed into each corner, with a desk underneath it. You’ve claimed the one nearest to the window. There’s a wardrobe on the opposite side, and a small, stocky book shelf.

You need to hang up some pictures or get a rug or something. It’s entirely impersonal.

You rest your Sun Lance up against the corner by the window and go to sit at the desk under your bed. You’ve already unpacked your few belongings into the wardrobe and the drawers of the desk, including the diary from ‘Fuyuki’.

Your ‘sister’. The game honestly hadn’t told you a whole lot about her. Just that she disappeared, and what few flashbacks you would have now and again. Like the one you got when you touched your ring and the lighter.

You open it up with careful hands.

Inside the handwriting is familiar, even if the words aren’t. There’s no mistaking your hand writing. It looks like a serial killer in a movie has left a ransom note made out of letters cut out of magazines.

I wonder if there’s cereal in the kitchen.

You always think better when you’re snacking.

To keep your thoughts in order, you scatterbrain.

<3 Fuyuki

The first entry is dated for 193 AC. After the Cataclysm. It’s 198 now, so this was given to MAIN (to you?) five years ago. That would have been right before she graduated the fire academy and joined her company. A year before she disappeared, around 194.

It feels invasive to read the diary of the person whos life you’ve taken over, but you need answers and you don’t have a lot of options here.

I can’t believe Fuyuki gave me a diary! That’s so lame, and super girly. I don’t really want to write in it, but she gave it to me so I guess I should? Even if I am kinda mad at her. She left to go to school years ago and she never comes home! She’s so mean but then she’s nice and its so frustrating! Not fair. Stupid sister.

But i’ll try i guess. There’s not much else to do in the house. None of the other kids really wanna play with me, and the Yagi’s are busy watching the littler kids. And maybe i’ll have kids and their kids will have kids will have kids will have kids and i’ll be their super cool ancestor and they’ll read this for inspiration or something.

Good god, how old were they when they started writing this? Twelve? How old even were you?

Fuck it.

You kept reading. They/you weren’t a regular writer, with long months going between entries. Some of them were sad, some of them were happy, most of them were angry. They had a lot of complicated feelings on the sister who had abandoned them to what was basically a group home outside Asakusa, and then bitterness at themselves for being so angry when she disappeared. But most of it wasn’t that useful. It was about grades and teachers, and grief. They got into a lot of fights, and they were something of a scrapper. They were briefly enrolled in martial arts classes, but they had to quit because they were too rough with the other kids. So they were a scrapper, but that wasn’t anything related to fire.

You rubbed your temples and glared at the diary. How did it answer your questions but leave you with more?

Why is this my life now?

So much here didn’t make sense, nonetheleast the fact that you were here to begin with. Well. At least you finally knew what your pyrokinesis was right? Even if using it was nearly impossible, and you couldn’t make sense of everything.

Of course, there were plenty of things in this world that didn’t make sense. Like how sound could turn fire into ice.

Bringing back the dead made more sense than that!

You cross your arms and glare at the diary. So far the only useful bit is the part where you’ve had some decent training. Everything else is just the most vague information about the investigation into her sister’s disappearance. That much you already knew, although you didn’t have time to read everything in it. There were big gaps that you just knew were holding important information!

At a loss, you flipped to the very last written on page, halfway through, and froze.

Staring back at you was your own face. A small picture. It was your resume for the squad assignments, with your own check boxes and preferences listed. Underneath it was the list you had written before, of Everything You Knew. It was short, with little screen caps here and there. You flipped the page and found it filling itself in with ink that didn’t come from a pen, finishing up what it started on the page before.

A new page started, this one listed your stats.

In game there were a hundred levels. You had gotten maybe halfway through? A third if you rounded down. And it listed your level at 40. Underneath had your attack power, defense, stamina, agility, and your special moves.

You were weirdly well rounded. Three out of five bars for everything, except the SM, which only had one.

But, you hadn’t put that there!

You quickly flipped it back and forth before you went to the very, very last page in the diary. On the back cover the ink finally finished filling out. A progress bar.

You stared at it for a long, long time, trying to work over everything was happening.

So.

Now you knew what you could do. Just not how to do it.

You were out of options at this point. You were just going to have to suck it up.

You were going to have to ask someone for help directly.

Shinra looks up from his work when you plop into the seat across from him, your arms crossed across your chest. It would be a lie to say you’re not nervous. You’re not even totally sure how you’re supposed to ask these questions, but you don’t have any other way to go about this any more.

You tried the diary. You’ve spent two and a half days trying to get your ignition ability to work without help. Admittedly, you hadn’t even know how your ability was meant to manifest at the time, but even now you can’t get it to work.

“Oh, hey there,” Shinra offers you an awkward smile. You grin right back, trying to project as much happy-go-lucky-nothing-wrong-here-!- as you can. It’s made easier by the fact that prior to a few days ago, no one here had known you as anything more than a passing acquaintance.

“Hi Shinra. I’ve got a weird question for you,” you announce bluntly.

Shinra looks a little more wary, and he’s starting to smile.

“Oh yeah? What is it?”

“Ah, it’s pretty simple actually. How do you activate your abilities?”

“Huh?”

“How do you-”

“No, I heard you,” he holds up his hand to cup you off. “It’s just a weird question.”

“Hey man, I told you it was gonna be one.”

You stare at each other for a long minute before Shinra huffs and looks towards the ceiling. He might not be the best person to ask. Maybe you should ask Maki, but Shinra makes you feel secure and you trust him more than anyone else just yet.

“How do I activate my abilities? I dunno. I guess for me it’s more like I have to turn it off.”

You tilt your head, listening intently to Shinra.

“When I was a kid… I had a hard time controlling my flames. They started up suddenly, and burned through my shoes and pants. I ended up wearing these extinguisher boots, and shorts, so I wouldn’t destroy everything around me. It took a long time to figure out what was going on, but someone finally explained it to me. For a lot of third generation pyrokinetics, the thing that triggers out ability is the memory of the first time they happened.”

You falter. “But, wait. Didn’t yours activate when-”

“Yeah,” he cuts in, shooting you a grin that’s anything but happy. Your heart clenches in your chest.

“Oh god, Shinra…” That meant that every time he used his powers, he had to remember his mother’s ‘death’ and his brother's disappearance. He had to think of pain and fear and grief, and he used his flames so often-

“It’s okay,” he cuts in. You can’t imagine what kind of face you’re making. “It was painful at first, and it still is, but it’s a good reminder for what I’m fighting for, and why I’m working so hard towards that goal. I will find a way to stop human combustion. I will make sure no one else ever has to grieve the way I did.”

“Shinra,” you say softly. “You really are something.”

Shinra tries to shrug off your words, but his smile is a little more genuine. “I just wanna be a hero.”

“You will be,” you promise him. It’s all you can do not to tell him the truth then and there. His mother is alive, and suffering. His brother is alive, and suffering.

They need help.

But you hold your tongue. You don’t have any way of proving it to him, and there’s already so many things that are different here than they were in the game, or the show. Your presence being one of them.

You let out a breath. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to bring up something so painful.”

Shinra shakes his head. “What made you ask?”

“Honestly?” you rubbed the back of your neck, “I’ve been having trouble using my abilities since we left the academy. I thought maybe if I asked you how you do it, I might be able to figure it out.”

Shinra looks startled. “Really? I guess that explains why you haven’t used them in the last few days. You never really held back when we were training.”

“Sorry to disappoint?” you offer lamely. “I just can’t figure it out.”

“Well… Have you thought about when you first activated your powers?”

“That’s just it,” you say sadly. “I don’t remember when it happened at all. So that’s not really an option for me.”

“Oh.”

You frown, and draw in on yourself. You can’t help it. You have no way to activate the powers you now know you have, and you’re in a bad place to be powerless in general. Not to mention these people are going to expect you to help, and you can’t help, and if you can’t help then-

Shinra’s hands land on your shoulders, startling you. It’s a warm touch, one that sinks into you with comfort and kindness. Shinra looks seriously at you, his red eyes bright and intent.

“Whatever happens, I know you’ll figure it out, and I’ll help you as much as I can. Even if I have to protect you in missions for now. So put your trust in me for now, okay?”

Your heart thumps hard in your chest and heat spreads through your body. It grows hotter and hotter, centering somewhere in your chest and your back.

Light blooms behind you and you barely turn your head to see a flicker of white fire over your shoulders, wings stretching over your back. They’re small, going no further down than you’re elbows and no further up than your jaw, pale and white and glowing.

You recognize the feeling in your chest with a start.

It’s care. Friendship. You want to help them. You want to fight for them and earn and keep their trust. The flickering embers of love bloom into a fire across your shoulders and flutter with undistinguished feather’s.

~ ~

A/N So! Phoenix is my favorite power, but everyone else seemed inclined towards the Sun Lance, so I smashed them both together!

If you’re so inclined, let me know what you think :D

#fire force #fire force x reader #shinra kusakabe #shinra kusakabe x reader #reader insert #enen no shouboutai x reader

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