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unfinshedsentec · 2 years

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ACCUSATIONS—RYUSEI SATOU

a/n: I got mixed opinions on fluff or angst sooo…hurt/comfort!

Enjoyyyy <3

reader is gender neutral! And Ryusei might be a little ooc

character pairing: ryusei satou x reader

tw: cursing, fighting/arguments, mentions of cheating/cheating accusations, jealousy, etc.

Isn't funny how subjective time is? How in the best moments time seems to fly by so quickly you could close your eyes the moment would be over. And how in the worst moments, time drags on for what seems like forever. For one person, 5 minutes might seem like a piece of cake, but for another it's an eternity. And right now, those 5 minutes seemed to be a lifetime for you.

"C'mon Y/n! Quit pretending like I'm some sort of fool! I see the way you look at him, the way you smile at him. I know you love him!", Ryusei yelled, getting angrier by the moment. The rain that already ran down his face seemed to run down faster as he harshly breathed. His hair was pressed up against his seemingly happy, glowing skin, but his furious eyes told a completely different story.

To think, that this was just supposed to be a casual after-school date. That you were supposed to be a normal lovey-dovey couple for an afternoon. That you were going to finally be fight-free. But of course, you had to say goodbye to a friend, and of course Ryusei didn't like seeing you with said friend.

He never does. He loves all your other friends, just not him. There's always a problem with him.

"I'm not fucking with you Ryusei! Goddammit, when will you realize he's just a friend?! When will it click in that little head of yours that I love you and only you!" you huff, continuing to walk. Ryusei however did not follow.

"That doesn't explain why you always ask him for help on homework and stuff! That doesn't explain why you look so much happier with him than me! That doesn't explain why you look at him like how you used to look at me!" he spoke, disgusted.

"Wha-" you began, baffled at his distrust towards you. "You're crazy!"

"I'm crazy?! You're the one whose cheating!" he screamed, pure rage on his face.

His eyes were darker, darker than they ever had been before. His face was unbelievably tense, so tense it concerned you. In a way it scared you especially because you could tell that he truly believed every word he said. He really thought you were cheating, despite you showing nothing but complete and utter loyalty towards him. On the flip side, you were enraged. How could he even accuse you of that?! You who would sacrifice your life for his in a heartbeat. You who would rather die that betray him.

How could he ever think otherwise?!

"How many times do I have to tell you he's a friend. F. R. I. E. N. D!" you screamed in return. Your throat burned from the yelling, and your body slowly began to give out. You were tired, tired of everything. You just wanted this to end. But it really didn't seem it would end anytime soon.

"I don't believe that bullshi-"

"I don't care what you believe! I'm done talking about this! Clearly, I can't change your mind so I'm not going to try. If you truly have absolutely no trust in me to the point where you can't stand seeing me with him, then maybe..." you shook, casting a downward gaze just at the thought. "Maybe..."

"Maybe we should split and you can date him instead." You froze replaying his words in your head. You didn't want to believe he meant what he said, but he did. You knew he did. Although Ryusei was usually a fun, loving guy, at times he could be as hardheaded as can be. Not only that, but sometimes he let the anger get the best of him, and that was exactly what was happening right now.

"Ryusei...no" you mumbled, facing him again. "Y-you don't mean that"

"I've had enough of this bullshit. I'm done." At that, Ryusei turned his back towards you and walked away. The air thickened with coldness and betrayal. Even as he mumbled a final goodbye, his voice stayed ice cold.

"R-ryusei! Ryusei stop playing around!" you yelled, sobbing. "T-this isn't funny! Ryusei!" You felt your heart pang in a way you had never felt before. You had dreaded this moment ever since you started fighting but you never imagine it would happen. You practically felt your heart shatter into pieces as he just walked away, walked away from it all.

You desperately wanted to chase after him and beg him to stay. You wanted to try to work things out again, but he knew he was too dense and angry to listen. There was no way to get through that thick skull of his. All you could do was sob and walk the other way. After all, this was his choice. He was the one to give up the relationship you cherished so much.

It was his loss, after all.

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The next couple of weeks were grueling. You'd see him, in the halls, in class, going to lunch. You'd see him laughing with other people as if nothing happened. You'd even see him flirting with other people, yet there was nothing you could do except look to the ground and pretend you saw nothing. You acted like he was a ghost, when deep down he was anything but that.

You cried everything, looking thought old pictures of him, reminiscing on the happy moments. You'd cry so hard you fell asleep. You'd cry so hard you couldn't breathe.

People asked you what made you so tired, so depressed, but you just couldn't answer. It was a terribly petty situation that you didn't want to admit to happening. So, you just told them you didn't want to talk about it. Even some of his nicer friend came to check up on you, but you'd just tell the same thing.

"It's nothing"

The only one you had told little about what happened was Baji, but that was because there was no denying Baji. He would find out one way or another. And once he did, he was not happy.

"Ryusei!" Baji yelled stopping Ryusei in his tracks. As usual, he gave his normal smile to Baji and acted as if everything was fine, when Baji knew it was the exact opposite.

"What's up Keisuke?" Ryusei smiled, waving.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?!" Baji yelled, grabbing the collar of his shirt. "Why the hell would you break up with them?!"

"I don't know what you're talking about"

"Oh please, you can't lie to me. Y/n told me!" he yelled, shaking him. "And y'know what's sad?! The fact that I had to be the one to comfort them and tell them everything would be alright. The fact that I was there for them instead of you is just sad. You should be ashamed of yourself!"

"Wha-"

"Are you a fucking idiot?! All they do is love you. They do nothing else but that, but all you do is whine about how they don't!! Don't you think if they didn't love you, they'd be with someone else?!"

"I-i..." Rysuei was speechless. He knew he could be ignorant, blind at times, but he didn't realize just how blind he had been. He didn't know how he couldn't see just how in love you both were. You were without a doubt the best thing to happen to him, yet he took you for granted and let you go just like that. You did nothing but give your best and he did nothing but accuse you.

"They're on the rooftop" Baji began, letting his collar go. "You should hurry before their gone for good"

Without a moments waste, Ryusei ran towards you. He ran as fast as he could, and then possibly pushed his legs to go faster. He panted, running up flights of stairs, yet he didn't stop. All he could think about was you, your beautiful face, and how he wanted nothing more than to be with you again; to hug you again.

And as he reached the double doors leading up to the roof top, his mind blurred with all those happy memories. He could only pray you would forgive him, pray that you'd forgive his stupidity. And as he opened the double doors and yelled your name. His heart stopped.

The bright afternoon sun shone on you, making you look almost ethereal. It made him realize just how beautiful you were, just how lucky he was to have you. He couldn't help but smile when he saw you look back at him, yet his heart stopped at the tear drop running down your face. He did that, and he felt nothing less than terrible for it.

"H-hey" he mumbled, approaching you. His hands shook from the anxiety, but he still pushed forward, determined to get you back.

"Hey" you replied, looking away. "What're you doing here?"

"Just um..." he began, messing with his hair. "I need to talk to you"

"Alright. Go on"

Ryusei walked over to you, sighing. He wasn't sure where to begin, but he had to begin somewhere. "Look, Y/n...I" he began, his hands shaking. "I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry. I was such a fucking idiot...I-i I don't know what I was thinking. You're so supportive and sweet and loyal. You're everything I ever could've wished for. I don't know why I did it, I had no reason too. And after Baji yelled at me, I felt worse."

Ryusei then, took your hand forced you to look at him. His dark teary eyes met yours and he knew right there and then that you were the one for him; no one else but you was.

"I-im so sorry! I'm sorry for being so stupid, for not listening to you, for making you cry.... for b-breaking up with you. I'm so sorry for everything. I'm so stupid...I'm sorry-"

Suddenly, Ryusei felt himself get cut off. A warm, familiar feeling spread throughout out his body as your lips met with his. His shaky hands pulled you closer, as close as he possibly could. He was afraid to let you go; he was afraid of ever letting you go. Even pulling away from the kiss was painful.

"S-so, do you-"

"I just needed an apology", you said, smiling at him. "But if you do that again, I'll kill you"

Ryusei laughed, before pulling you closer. "I'd like to see you try <3"

At that, everything seemed to be fixed. You were Ryusei's, and Ryusei was yours. That was something that would never change, you were sure of it.

After all, Ryusei was your happily ever after~

masterlist || reblogs are very appreciated <33

#tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x reader #ryusei satou x reader #ryusei satou #letter from keisuke baji #letter from keisuke baji spin off #tokyo rev #tokyo rev x you #tokyo revengers spinoff #ryusei satou x y/n #ryusei satou x you #ryusei sato #ryusei sato x reader #baji #baji keisuke #keisuke baji #chifuyu #chifuyu matsuno

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ganondorf-is-a-disney-princess · 2 years

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That time my sisters and I made a public smear campaign against Scoot in our Animal Crossing town

So, my sisters and I have been playing animal crossing since Population Growing released on the Gamecube in 2002. We still have the first town we ever made on a memory card, Budgehum (named by randomly clicking letters until something intelligible happened). I check in on Budgehum every year or so to make sure none of our favorite villagers have moved and to pick the mountain of weeds that have amassed.

When I did my most recent check in, one of the villagers showed me a letter they had received from my middle sister. The contents of said letter suplexed me back to a time of great turmoil in the sweet little town of Budgehum. This is a story of betrayal, and righteous fury against one little green duck with a helmet.

You see, Scoot had been a villager in our town quite a while back. He was perfectly forgettable to us. A background character, if you will. We liked Scoot, but he wasn't anyone's favorite. He was just kind of there. That was all to change on one fateful December day.

In the winter months of Animal Crossing: Population Growing, villagers could make little igloos and hang out inside. If you talked to them, they might ask to play a game with you. upon winning, they would give you a random furniture item, If you lost, they got to pick something out of your pocket to take.

On this day, my middle sister was determined to win a pot of chowder to put in her house (we were under the impression that the igloos were the only way to get this item, but idk if that's actually true). She prepared by leaving all of her tools and items in her house and filling her pockets with fruit instead. This would protect her hard earned furniture and tools. Little did she know that the little green duck inside that igloo was out for blood that day.

She played with him a few times, and won some random things here and there, but nothing of note. The few times that she lost, he took a single peach as planned. Her confidence grew. Like Iccarus, my dear sister was flying closer to the sun. On her final game of the day, she initiated another chance based game and lost. This time, the price was much higher.

You see, there was no bank in this game. If you wanted to store your extra bells somewhere, you had to choose between throwing them in your basement in bags of 10,000 each, or bury them in holes outside. Why do I mention this? Well, my sister was carrying her life savings in her pockets at the time she lost the game with Scoot. As it turns out, the villager could randomly decide to take all of the bells in your pocket instead of taking an item. You can guess what happened next.

Yep, that didly darned duck took all of her money. Which was a lot. I remember the look of horror on her face as this duck stole all of her hard earned bells while laughing in her face. She was heartbroken. She was enraged. As a supportive sister, I felt her rage as my own. We could not let Scoot get away with this. He could not be allowed to live in peace.

With all the rage of 3 children, we put together a concise smear campaign that would surely ruin his everyday life in Budgehum. We made custom design shirts at the Able Sisters, we posted up signs around town, we posted on the town bulletin board, and we even sent letters to all of the villagers. All with the same message:

SCOOT RIDES A VACUUM CLEANER TO WORK.

Yes, that was the worst insult we could possibly think of.

He soon moved out of Budgehum for good. I don't think he ever fully recovered from the complete and utter defamation he received, because in all of the future Animal Crossing games we started after, Scoot was never to be seen again. Good riddance, I say. That duck is a menace.

#animal crossing #animal crossing population growing #story time #ramblings #childhood memories #video games #nintendo gamecube

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foreverofbalance-main · 2 years

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SPOILERS FOR THE MOON KNIGHT FINALE. DO NOT READ FURTHER IF YOU HAVE NOT YET WATCHED IT. THIS IS A BASIC OUTLINE OF THE VERSE FOR MAAT, @beingofchaos, and @knowerofsecretthings…

IF YOU HAVE WATCHED AND YOU ARE CURIOUS, CLICK THE READ MORE.

THANK YOU.

HISTORY

Just before the fall of Egypt, Maat at last reasoned with her uncle Apep (Apophis, by his Greek name), convincing him to stop his crusade against the deities, particularly as the younger ones were likely unaware of what had transpired prior to their origin, at least not the truth of it. She convinced him to approach the others with both herself and Djehuty (Thoth, by his Greek name) as witnesses to the truth of his tale as well as to his intentions at the time to simply be left to exist, without being harassed by their ill-informed efforts to eradicate chaos––something necessary to the balance of life.

Unfortunately, Aset (Isis, by her Greek name) refused to believe that Apep was in earnest and instead thought he sought some clever new way to bring the world to ruin, or perhaps an attempt to usurp the throne, taking it from her husband Asar (Osiris, by his Greek name). Clever being that she is, she convinced the others of this as well, swaying them to her side, and when matters turned poorly, it was clear that they meant to bind Apep once more. Maat would not see that happen, particularly as she had given her word to him, assuring him of safety. Thus, she and her uncle engaged in a battle, this time side by side, balance at last righted… though it would not be enough after centuries of discord and imbalance. Djehuty, not wishing to see Maat fall, likewise joined the fray, but the others were more powerful at their height.

The three were imprisoned in shabti… and it was not long after that Egypt fell and the mortals largely turned away from their ‘gods’, the deities deciding in turn to depart from the affairs of man.

It was prior to this that Khonshu became a moon deity, Djehuty passing that duty to him as he had far more important matters (such as the ever-evolving and changing languages of the world, as well as his duties as scribe to the deities and to the records of each soul to enter the Duat). Though they technically are both still considered to be moon gods, Djehuty all but relinquished the actual responsibilities to Khonshu, though still he can draw upon those abilities if given ample reason.

Apep was not new to being imprisoned, in whatever form it might take. Being chained within the Duat. Being bound to a shabti. Chaos can never be contained for any considerable duration, however, and it was not long before he escaped. It was in his wrath at a second betrayal and at the loss of his niece and brother that Egypt fell. Unfortunately, the other deities were clever and they hid away the shabti of Djehuty and of Maat. Unable to find them, Apep contented himself with continuing as he had for centuries, wreaking havoc upon the world, much to Khonshu’s dismay.

The two have tangled many times over the millennia, though always to a stalemate.

THE PRESENT

Now, where that leaves us during the events of the show.

Depending on whoever my partner might be while writing this, there is a potential slight shift to the actual progression of the last few episodes (largely whether or not they are able to aid in banishing Ammit), though the core of this idea remains the same and it is this:

After Khonshu is imprisoned, the gods are weakened enough by the use of power needed for such a task that Maat––goddess of justice and order who was unjustly imprisoned, goddess of balance when balance was to be completely and irreparably destroyed by Ammit’s aspirations––was able to break free at last and then to liberate Djehuty in turn. After years held captive and returning to a world of utter chaos left too long to the machinations of Apep without Order to balance him, and with the additional strain of freeing Djehuty, Maat is weakened but still able to maintain and to do what she must.

[ As an aside: the three of them never having left the earth––and that they are the oldest of the remaining deities, predating even the current ennead––they are not bound to taking avatars, though Djehuty has been known to do so from time to time for convenience sake, a "station” where he can direct specific “trains” of thought without entangling them with the many others that go through his head at any given point in time, allowing him to better keep focus on specific tasks. Apep and Maat never have, preferring their own forms (whatever form they might take), though it is also questionable if any would be able to be the avatar for Apep, an ‘anti-’deity considered to be one of the only all-powerful of the Egyptian deities, besides Ra. ]

Sensing the shift, Apep follows the thread that exists between himself and Maat, the tie between chaos and order, and he finds them, free of their prisons.

It takes Maat and Djehuty a moment to get their bearings, but if they are able, they would aid the avatar of Khonshu––Maat hopes with minimal squabbling between Khonshu and Apep though she is not hopeful––and bind Ammit once more before she destroys balance forever and the stakes are high as this would also likely destroy Maat forever.…

#|| out of cosmic order || { ooc }#|| a precarious balance between order and chaos || { v; moon knight }#// moon knight spoilers

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shitty-marvel-fan732 · 3 years

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Hi can I request a peter parker x barnes-Rogers reader (steve and Bucky's daughter) and me and Peter find out I'm pregnant with Peter's baby and we try to keep it a secret but everyone is suspicious of us cause I've been really poorly lately and Peter is being overprotective and one day Peter accidentally says "don't do that it could hurt the baby" or "and everyone freaks out and me, Peter and my dads have a long talk but everything is fine thanks xx

Unexpected

Pairing: Peter Parker x Barnes-Rogers! Reader

Requested?: Yes!

Word count: Almost 7k

Warnings: Pregnancy, some angst but thats it I think?

Author's Note: Yessssss this was so fun to write! Very excited to be back to posting on this page again. Thank you so much for the request! Hope to start adding in more content soon, so if yall have any requests feel free to send them in! And if you have requests sent in already, know that I love you and I will be getting to clearing out my inbox here pretty soon 🥰

Taglist: @just-that-bi-girl , @winterfrostsarmy

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In retrospect, the entire team should have realized what was going on with you a lot sooner. To their credit, most of them had noticed that something was different about you, but other than Nat and Wanda none of them had a guess as to what exactly that was.

The men appeared completely clueless in respect to the cause of the recent changes in you. Even Clint, a married father of three, hadn't caught on even after he'd seen you leaving the bathroom having clearly just thrown up. Tony had been the closest to figuring it out of the all men, having noticed your odd mood swings and crying fits as they became more and more frequent. He noted the same behavioral pattern as he'd found himself stuck in after the Battle of New York, and secretly worried for your mental well-being. He hadn't felt comfortable enough to broach the topic with you just yet though, instead opting to watch you from a distance for the time being.

The women, however, seemed to understand almost instantly what was going on. Nat had figured things out once she realized that you had been skipping training lately and noticed that you and Peter barely appeared to leave one another's sides for even a moment. Wanda based her guess almost solely upon the fact that she could just feel that something was different about you; your entire energy had changed in the last few weeks and she noted it even before Peter had. Both women had their suspicions, but had seemingly agreed to keep their thoughts to themselves until you were ready to tell the team what was going on.

Your dads were a different story altogether.

It took Steve and Bucky much longer to notice something had changed with their daughter, Steve longest of all. Either you'd done a great job of avoiding your Pops or he'd been incredibly unobservant (or more likely both), but he hadn't seen anything that he would've considered out of the ordinary for you.

That is, until today.

"AAAAUUUUUUGGGGH"

Steve was on his feet in an instant, sprinting into the kitchen at the sound of your enraged scream. He skidded to a stop and surveyed the room with a trained look for the source of danger, but found none. In fact, you and Sam were the only two in the space as far as he could tell. Sam's back was pressed snugly against the furthermore countertop as you practically cornered him, the older man clearly caught off guard by your sudden burst of rage. You flung your hands around wildly as you yelled, one gripping a box so tightly that your knuckles were beginning to turn a concerning shade of white.

Completely bewildered, Steve watched in stunned silence for moment as you fumed and screamed expletives at the slightly-terrified looking Sam, without any clear indication as to what had happened.

"I CANNOT FUCKING BELIEVE YOU, YOU GODDAMNED ASSHO-"

"Y/N Barnes-Rodgers!" Steve scolded you finally, momentarily stopping your verbal assault. "What in God's name is going on here?"

Your eyes turned to your Pops' briefly before flickering back to glare in Sam's direction.

"Pigeon-brain ate the last of my oreos," you seethed, walking forward and jabbing an accusatory finger to Sam's chest, his hands instantly flying upwards in surrender.

Steve felt his jaw drop in utter disbelief.

“You-,”

“What’s with all the commotion in here?” Bucky interrupted, striding into the kitchen much as Steve had moments ago and joining his husband's side with a confused look on his face. Steve crossed his arms and frowned at their daughter.

“Apparently our daughter is screaming at Sam because he ate her cookies.” your Pops explained tersely.

“Not cookies, oreos,” you muttered, glare never wavering from Sam. You furiously threw the offending empty package roughly at his still bewildered face in lieu of another expletive. Sam was evidently so bewildered, in fact, that he didn't even flinch as the box hit his head and bounced pathetically to the floor.

Bucky raised his eyebrow.

“And that’s why you’ve been screaming like that?” he confirmed. You nodded, arms crossing your chest stubbornly.

Bucky shrugged, looking towards his husband with a look of indifference. “Makes sense.”

“No, it absolutely does not make sense,” Steve lightly scolded, glancing at Bucky with a pointed look before returning his gaze to you. “Y/N you’re completely overreacting. Apologise to Sam right now.”

Your mouth dropped open, and you gaped at your dads with an expression that was equal parts betrayal and rage.

“No.”

“No?” Steve repeated incredulously. He stared at you with disbelief, looking between you and Bucky like he was hoping he’d somehow misheard you. You met his glance with an equally stubborn look as you planted your feet solidly beneath you and tightened the cross of your arms. “What do you mean, no?”

“You heard me,” you spat, unwavering.

Sam merely looked confused as he watched the two of you argue, if albeit still a bit scared, but Bucky was sure his shock was evident on his face. You never back-sassed your Pops, not even when you were really angry, and Bucky only felt his disbelief grow at the prospect that your attitude was all due to a few cookies.

"Y/N, you don't get to tell me no," Steve ground out carefully, voice stern with a rare sort of parental authority he seldom had to use with you. In fact, Bucky was pretty sure he hadn't actually heard him use this particular tone since way back when you were a toddler testing the limits of your dads' patience. But unlike your three-year-old self, you didn't back down at your Pops' disapproving tone; in fact, you met his intense stare with a flippant roll of your eyes, deepening your dad's shock at your abrupt behavioral shift.

"He fucking knows what he did, everyone knows those oreos are mine," you snapped, eyes alight with a kind of fury the likes of which your dads had never seen from you before.

"Language!" Steve gasped at his daughter, his authoritative tone giving way to a spluttering one of complete disbelief.

"FUCK OFF!" you shouted instantly.

"HEY!"

Bucky had officially had enough. Irritation blossomed deep within his chest at the hurt he saw wash through his husband's eyes at your vulgar screech. Teenaged angst was one thing, but it was entirely another to blatantly disrespect Steve like you were. He still didn't know what was really causing you to act like this--because no way in hell could this be all over some oreos-- but he'd definitely passed the point where he even cared.

"Doll, that’s enough. Clearly you're upset, but you cannot speak to your Pops like that," he practically growled. You turned your attention to your dad with the same kind of indignant irritation in your eyes, a flash of fresh anger rolling across your face at the sight of Bucky's equally irate expression.

"You can fuck off too," you spat.

Bucky's jaw clenched dangerously, the muscle in his cheek jumping and twitching as he took in his daughter's crass retort. Sam had long since left the scene, the nearly suffocating tension officially too much for him to take. Steve's eyes went wide for what felt like the millionth time since he'd first walked into the kitchen. If he hadn't known something was wrong before, he undoubtedly did now.

You may not disobey him often, but you never snapped at Bucky.

Steve had long since accepted that, though you loved the two of them the same, you'd always liked Bucky more. A daddy's girl from birth, you and Bucky had always been inseparable-- so for you to now scream and curse at him like this was like a flaming-red flag in Steve's mind.

Something was definitely wrong.

"Excuse me?" Bucky hissed. The two of you faced one another, arms crossed and expressions grim. You planted your feet even more solidly underneath you, staring your dad down with a fury so intense it was almost palpable. If it weren't for the overall tension of the situation, Steve might've teased the two of you for your near-mirrored positions.

"Y/N? What's going on, I thought I heard yelling?" Peter asked as he practically skidded into the kitchen. He immediately joined you, face morphing into a look of utter concern at the sight of yours and Bucky's standoff. Steve braced himself, mentally apologizing to Peter for the verbal assault that was surely coming his way.

But it never came.

It was as if all the unwarranted anger was sucked from your body in a rush as soon as you caught sight of your boyfriend. Your face crumpled into an anguished expression, and Steve could see how the tears welled up in your eyes instantaneously. Peter clicked his tongue in pity and you thrust yourself instantly into his awaiting arms. He gripped you tightly, and you eagerly buried yourself further into his embrace. Face smashed tightly against his chest, you began to sob uncontrollably.

Your dads gaped at the scene, wide-eyed.

"S-sam ate my oreos a-and now everyone's mad at me, and I j-just wanted my snack!" you all but wailed, voice muffled by Peter's body.

Bucky blinked once as he turned to his husband, total confusion written all over his features. Steve just gaped in response, unable to formulate a semi-coherent thought, let alone words.

"Oh angel, it's okay," Peter cooed softly into your hair, hands rubbing up and down your back soothingly as you continued to cry. "I can go and get you more oreos; don't cry Y/N/N, I'll just run down to the store right now to get you some."

Lifting your head from his chest, you seemed slightly placated and hopeful as you sniffled and looked up at him.

"C-can I come with you?" you asked him shyly, tear-stained cheeks turning a slight shade of pink at your childish request. Peter smiled fondly down at you, clearly happy to see that you were feeling better.

"Of course, it'll be nice to walk with you," he smiled sweetly at you and lightly kissed your nose. You giggled as you removed yourself from his embrace before walking over to your dads.

"M'sorry I shouted daddys. Love you guys!" you apologized in a chipper voice before kissing both of the men's bewildered cheeks.

The two supersoldiers both stood in stunned silence as they watched you leave hand in hand with Peter, who briefly shot them an apologetic look before the pair were gone. Steve thought he heard Peter mumbling something to Y/N as they left, but the only words he could pick out were "not good to get so worked up", which only confused him further.

"What in the hell was that?" Bucky grumbled, face still crinkled with bewilderment. Steve simply shook his head.

"I have absolutely no idea. I've never seen her behave like that, have you?"

"Nothing like that, but she was acting funny the other day too," he frowned, recalling the scene he'd walked in on just a few days prior. "She was full out sobbing on the couch a few days ago over a toilet paper commercial."

Steve gaped at his husband.

"Sh-she...what?"

"Doll have you seen your Pops? I can't find him any-"

Bucky's question died in his throat as soon as he hit the threshold of the TV room. You were curled up on the couch, arms wrapped around your knees as sobs racked through you. Peter sat next to you with his eyes crinkled in concern and hands rubbing gently at your shoulders as you cried.

"Y/N what's wrong, why are you crying?" Bucky asked. Feeling his protective instincts kick in instantly, he couldn't help but search the room with his eyes in search of any danger. Finding nothing, he narrowed his eyes at your boyfriend.

"Did he do something?" Bucky demanded. "Parker I swear to God if you hurt her I-"

"What? N-no I didn't do anything Mr. Bucky I swear!" Peter spluttered, eyes widening in fear at the terrifying look in your dad's eyes.

"Bullshit, then why's she crying like that? Of course you did someth-"

"N-no it's not P-peter dad!" you interrupted tearfully. "There was an ad on TV that just made me emotional okay? You know, the one with the boy crying in the bathroom and his dad offers him toilet paper for his tears?"

There was a beat of silence.

"Doll, you really mean to tell me that you're sobbing over a toilet paper ad?" Bucky asked, brows furrowed in disbelief. You sniffled as you nodded, and fresh tears began to pick your eyes once more.

"Yes! I mean it's just so inspiring," you blubbered. "I mean how often do you actually get to see a teenaged boy cry on TV? Never, cause toxic masculinity standards in this stupid patriarchal society we all live in say otherwise! And not only does the dad accept that his son is crying and is allowed to feel real emotions, he sits down to talk with him about them! I just got so happy thinking about all the little boys who will see this ad and feel the validation that they're normal for feeling sad every once in a while!"

Bucky just stared at his daughter with a blank look for a moment; he looked like he was unable to formulate a single response to the information he'd just been given.

"Well that's...uh….that's great I gue-"

"I can't believe you would just assume that me crying just had to be because of something Peter did," you interrupted, angrily brushing the leftover tears from your face. "It's so unfair, you always blame him for everything!"

"I-uh," Bucky stammered, flustered by the sudden change in your emotions. You scoffed and stood quickly from your spot in Peter's embrace, crossing your arms petulantly.

"It's true dad, you're always looking for something to yell at him for! It's so biased and unfair," you practically yelled. "Honestly it's such prejudiced bullshit. Some kind of outdated 'lock up your daughters' rhetoric that I can't believe yo…"

At some point during your impassioned speech you began stomping away from both your dad and Peter while still ranting. As your shouts became fainter and fainter Bucky found himself directing his dumbfounded expression at Peter instead. In a rare show of solidarity with your boyfriend, Bucky silently begged for an explanation as to what on earth had just happened.

Despite the way his heart was hammering wildly in his chest Peter remained silent. He offered only a passive shrug to your dad before he clambered to his feet and began following after you. If Bucky hadn't been caught so off guard he surely would've been suspicious at the visible sweat that was beading on Peter's forehead and the way the young boy's hands trembled as he quickly left the room, the question of what was causing your mood swings laying thickly unanswered in the air.

"What the fu-"

"She...a toilet paper ad? Really?"

"Yep, a friggin' toilet paper commercial," Bucky nodded solemnly. Steve blinked once, shaking his head.

"So what did you do?" he asked incredulously.

"Nothin'," Bucky shrugged. "She was so damned worked up that I figured she needed some space, and by the time I went to talk to her she'd already seemed completely fine. Thought it wasn't worth upsetting her all over again."

Steve snorted.

"Yeah right, you were just too scared you would make her mad again," he chuckled.

"Hell yeah I was," Bucky admitted freely, crossing his arms and shooting his husband a defiant expression. "You've seen her, you know how terrifying she can be when she's pissed!"

Steve chuckled once more, shaking his head fondly.

"Mmmm, and I wonder where she got that from."

Bucky narrowed his eyes and scowled at the implication, a surly look overtaking his features. Steve couldn't help but laugh outright at the expression on his husband's face; it was the exact same face you always made when you were annoyed, right down to the little pout in your lip.

"For the last time Stevie, she doesn't get that from me," he grumbled.

"Sure Buck, whatever you say," Steve laughed.

Though your odd behavior and mood swings were at least now on both your dads' radar, neither had any clue as to the actual reason for your sudden changes. The pair of them chalked up the incidents to little more than teenaged angst, however they had no idea how wrong they were nor just how soon they were about to find out what was really going on.

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

"I don't understand Y/N," Steve stated carefully. "Why exactly don't you want to go with the team?"

You shifted your weight from foot to foot anxiously, huffing out a breath in mock annoyance and very real frustration.

You'd been in the training room, lightly working out with Nat and Wanda when your Pops and Tony had walked in to announce that there was an urgent mission that apparently would require the entire team. Internally cursing your timing, you'd tried to sneak out of the room unnoticed, but as your luck would have it, your dad caught you. Now you were stuck arguing with your dads, the attention and curiosity of everyone in the gym directed at you.

Your heart was thrumming wildly in your chest as you furiously racked your brain for some way, any way, out of this assignment and this conversation without an actual reason.

Well, a reason you were actually willing to give, that is.

"Why does it even matter?" you snapped, hoping that no one clocked the tremor in your voice. "It's not like you guys even need me anyways."

"Doll, you always jump at the chance to come with us," your dad interjected. "So what's so different about today?"

"I just don't want to," you whined, lying through your teeth. "I'm tired and I don't feel good."

"But you were literally just training?" Sam pointed out. You narrowed your eyes at him, irritation bubbling under the surface of your anxiety at the contradiction. The older man shrank back a bit under your firey gaze, the previous incident in the kitchen clearly prominent in his mind as he stepped behind Wanda.

Clint snorted.

"If you could even call that training," he mumbled under his breath. Your jaw dropped.

"What is this, gang up on Y/N day?!" you sassed as your arms flew to cross your chest defensively. Your Pops shook his head.

"We're just worried Y/N/N," he reassured, brows furrowed with concern. "You've been behaving very strangely lately, and this is just one more thing."

"Yeah doll," Bucky nodded, agreeing with his husband. "So what gives?"

Your pulse sped up once more at the direct question, a sickening feeling rising in your throat like bile at the realization of just how suspicious your dads were. Unable to think clearly through your panic, you did the only thing you could think of.

You scoffed in fake disbelief, rolled your eyes, and began stomping out of the room.

"Y/N Barnes-Rodgers!" your dad shouted in an indignant and angered tone. "We are not done talking about this!"

Damn.

"What?!" you whirled around, stomping your foot like a child. "I just don't want to go this time okay?"

Bucky's face turned red at your open defiance, but Steve interrupted before he could even open his mouth to snap back at you.

"No Y/N it's absolutely not okay," he scolded. You felt the burn of unshed tears prick your eyes as they searched desperately around the room, mind racing to think of an excuse that would get you out of this situation.

"But-"

"No, no buts Y/N," your dad barked, clearly having composed himself enough to speak once more. His arms were crossed as he glared at you, and the stubbornly annoyed look on his face was enough to make the tears in your eyes begin to fall. A feeling of utter entrapment and fear settled in your chest like a suffocating weight as you felt the hot, fresh tears stream down your cheeks.

"Doll, are you crying?" your Pops questioned incredulously. "What on earth is going on with you?"

"Nothing! I just can't go today," you blubbered, past the point of being able to hold back your sobs.

"You can't go, or you won't go?" Bucky asked pointedly, evidently not swayed by your tears.

"It doesn't matter," you cried desperately. Your dad's eyes bored into yours directly as if he was searching your brain to find out what you were holding back from him.

"It clearly does matter, otherwise you wouldn't be acting like this," he continued harshly. "I'm not sure what it is you aren't telling us, but I don't even care at this point. Stark said he needs everyone and your Pops told you to go, so you need to get yourself together and go and get ready."

The tears were now cascading down your face in giant streams and your face was growing warmer by the second. You darted your gaze back and forth between the other team members' faces, still searching for some kind of last minute way out of this situation. Finding only curious or concerned expressions, you turned back to your dads with wide eyes. You felt your mouth go dry as your lips open and closed wordlessly, the severity of your current predicament weighing you down more and more by the second.

"I-"

"No. I don't want to hear another word from you Y/N," your dad snapped. "Go and get ready for the mission now."

"But she can't go!"

Time stopped for a split second as the entire room's heads snapped towards the desperate shout.

Peter had only just entered the training room, wondering where everyone was, when he caught the tail end of your dad's order. He couldn't help but blurt the first thing that'd come to mind, the implication of which only dawned on him afterwards. As he rushed to your side he shot you a sheepish look, and you internally cringed a bit at his slip.

Even though you were certain Peter's involvement would only further reduce your already slim chances of getting out of this mission without a full confession of what was really going on, you couldn't help but feel an inkling of relief as his eyes locked with yours. His hand immediately intertwined itself with yours once he'd reached you, and your belly fluttered with a warm tinge of comfort with the simple touch.

True, things were probably about to go sideways for the both of you, but at least Peter was here to go through it by your side.

"Excuse me Parker?" your dad spat incredulously, eyes blazing with anger at your boyfriend's outburst. "I don't recall asking you for your opinion on my daughter or what she can or can't do."

Peter stood a little taller as he looked Bucky straight in the eyes with an unprecedented amount of determination.

"She can't go." he practically growled, eyes stern and unyielding as he openly defied your dad. He was standing a half-step in front of you, tense back partially shielding you from the rest of the team as he spoke.

Even with his face turned the opposite direction you could see from his profile the way his brows were furrowed and how dark his normally chocolate brown eyes had gotten. You felt a slight shiver run up your spine at the fiercely protective energy Peter was radiating, and your heart felt a bit lighter at the way he stood up to your dad on your behalf. You squeezed his hand in an effort to ground him, and he softened marginally as he glanced back at you.

Your dad however looked as if he might combust soon based on the way his eyes bulged out and his face turned a concerning shade of red.

"What's that supposed to mean Peter?" Steve interjected carefully, his hand reaching up to rest comfortingly on his husband's shoulder.

"It means exactly what we said," Peter said firmly. "Y/N cannot go on this mission today."

The team watched the interaction between you, Peter, and your dads with their heads bouncing back and forth between the four of you like they were watching a tennis match. Not a word had been uttered from a single one of them, and yet they stood completely transfixed as they waited patiently to see the outcome of the argument.

"And why, pray tell, is that Parker?" your dad hissed, scowl etched across his features.

Peter's eyes traveled to yours, irises swimming with a silent question. Realizing that there was no way out, you took a steadying breath as you nodded softly and squeezed his hand once more in reassurance. Peter smiled at you fondly before dropping his smile and turning back to your parents.

"She can't go because...it could be bad for the baby."

You could've heard a pin drop in the training room. No one made a sound, no one even dared to breathe. The shock in the room was palpable, but you couldn't be bothered to even glance at anyone other than your dads, their reactions the only two that mattered to you in this moment.

Though you'd expected a rather explosive reaction from your parents (especially from your dad), you were met instead with blank stares. Your dads were simply staring at you and Peter in stunned silence, and their lack of a response actually frightened you more than the screaming you'd been anticipating for weeks now. The beat of silence seemed to stretch on eternally, though in reality it was probably no more than thirty seconds. You watched nervously, your hand becoming sweaty in Peter's as you waited. Finally, your Pops blinked and opened his mouth cautiously.

"Bad for the wha-"

"I SWEAR TO GOD PARKER THAT'D BETTER BE SOME KIND OF DISGUSTING PET NAME FOR MY DAUGHTER."

Ahhh. There it was.

Your dad had clearly broken through his frozen thoughts enough to respond, and you would've laughed if you weren't so terrified. He looked positively furious; his eyes were darker than you'd ever seen them and his face had darkened from red to an almost purple color that looked painful to say the least. His murderous gaze was hyper-fixated on Peter, and you couldn't help but step in front of your poor boyfriend in an effort to take some of the heat off him.

Peter, evidently, was having none of that, and he frowned before pulling you backwards and tucking you into his side tightly. If you hadn't been so focused on your dad right now you might've rolled your eyes at his over-protectiveness. Instead you allowed yourself the comfort of his embrace as you took a steadying breath.

"It's not," you responded as calmly as you could manage while your heart felt like it was going to beat out of your throat. "I'm pregnant."

Silence enveloped the room once more, and you could've sworn it was even more awkward than the first time. It must've been, because you could see Nat and Wanda ushering the rest of the team out of the gym out of the corner of your eye. You weren't quite sure if you were grateful for the privacy or more scared of how your dads would react now that you were alone.

Your dads stared at you and Peter with wildly different expressions. Steve was staring off into space and looking as if he was either going to throw up or pass out soon, and Bucky still looked as if he was about a half a second away from murdering Peter with his bare hands. To his credit, Peter was still standing by your side with the same look of determination as before despite this, but you could feel the way his pulse was hammering through his veins as he too carefully surveyed your dads' reactions.

You stood quietly, trying to be patient as you watched them, but the suspense and anticipation quickly became overwhelming and you couldn't help but blurt,

"Say something!"

Though both their gazes snapped up to your face with your plea, yet neither your dad nor you Pops said anything. You were suddenly overcome with the urge to explain yourself.

"I know that you're probably in shock or angry or maybe both- and honestly that's completely fair!" You rambled breathlessly. "I know we're still only eighteen, but I really think everything's gonna be okay? Really, I do. And I'm so sorry about today, believe me this isn't how we planned on telling you at all bu-"

"You're not coming on the mission," Steve interrupted, his voice completely devoid of emotion. "Nor is Peter. Your dad and I will be back later, and we're all going to have a long discussion."

It felt like all the air was sucked out of your body as you watched your Pops pull your dad towards the training room exit. You hadn't been fully sure of just how you were going to tell them, but never in your wildest dreams did you imagine that it would come out like this. Tears once more welling up in your eyes, your heart sank as you realized just how disappointed and angry they were.

"I love you," your voice cracked as you called to their retreating forms, unable to bear the sight of them leaving without reminding them. They both paused in the doorway, and without turning back both muttered that they loved you too before they were gone.

As soon as they left you immediately twisted yourself and thrust your face into Peter's chest, the tears flowing steadily as you sobbed. He wrapped his arms tightly around your shaking form, lips finding the crown of your head and hands rubbing soothingly across your back.

"Th-they hate me now," you whispered brokenly into Peter's soft hoodie in between sobs. "They hate me Pete, they're n-never going to forgive me for this!"

Peter shushed you quietly, gentle lips kissing your hair as he began to sway you back and forth slowly.

"They don't hate you angel," he soothed. "They're just surprised. Disappointed in the timing maybe, but they'll get over it. I promise."

"I never wanted it to go like this," you cried as you pulled your head from his chest slightly. Peter's hands left your back for a moment to come and rest on either of your cheeks. He leaned down to press a soft kiss to your forehead before retreating upwards to look deep into your eyes.

"I know you didn't sweet girl, but it did," he said gently as he brushed away some of your tears with the pads of his thumbs. "It did and it's going to be okay. We'll talk to your dads when they get back and clear everything up. And no matter what, you and I are going to get through this together, okay?"

You sniffled softly, nodding sadly. Peter's eyes were swimming with guilt and dejection at the sight of the empty expression on your face. He didn't know how to comfort you in this situation, but it was like every molecule in his body was demanding he do so. He leaned down once more to press a loving kiss to your forehead, then your cheeks, your nose, and finally your lips.

You sighed, head retreating back to his chest once your lips disconnected. Sadness was still swirling in your stomach and you just longed for the feeling that being in Peter's arms brought. He seemed to understand perfectly- as he always did- pressing his cheek to the top of your head and wrapping his arms tightly around you without a word. The two of you stood there for a while, bodies entangled as you continued lightly swaying back and forth. Peter's hands continued to roam up and down your spine and your tears began to slow and dry.

Eventually you hummed, stepping back and up on your toes to press an appreciative kiss to Peter's face. He smiled as a faint pink tinted his cheeks at your display of affection. You giggled, slightly amazed that even after everything you two had done, something as simple as a peck on the cheek could still make him blush.

"Thank you," you said quietly, looking up into his eyes. He quirked an eyebrow at you in confusion.

"For staying with me through all that. I mean it's you, so I wasn't really worried...but my dad can be really frightening. So thanks," you half joked.

Peter chuckled lightly as he pulled you back into his arms once more.

"Of course angel. Told you, I'm never going to leave you. Even if your dad is super scary. You two are stuck with me now. I'm never ever going to leave you or our baby," he vowed quietly into your hair as his hands reached down to rub the small but growing bump in your tummy lovingly. "We're gonna get through this all together, as a family."

You felt tears well up in your eyes once more, but this time out of sheer love and happiness.

Damned hormones.

"You're gonna be such a good daddy Peter," you whispered gratefully. Hearing the slight crack in your voice, Peter pulled you away from his chest gently to wipe your tear stained cheeks once more.

"Hey now, no more tears today," he scolded playfully as he tugged you across the room. "When's the last time you ate something? We have the whole kitchen to ourselves now, and I bet my babies are hungry!"

You chuckled lightly as you allowed him to pull you along with him towards the kitchen. All the while, he chattered happily about the new article he'd just read about the specific nutritional needs pregnant women have, and your heart swelled at his thoughtfulness. You were still apprehensive about the upcoming conversation with your dads, but you were definitely feeling better. As much as their approval and involvement would mean to you, you'd come to the conclusion that as long as you had Peter by your side everything would work out alright.

Somehow.

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

"Petey, are you sure you don't need any-"

"No! Nope. I've got this," your boyfriend interrupted stubbornly. You signed, hand absentmindedly rubbing across your swollen stomach as you watched him struggle with the latch on the new crib the two of you were setting up.

Well, the crib that Peter was setting up.

It'd been a few months since the team had found out about the newest upcoming addition to the Tower, and you'd decided that it was time to begin decorating the nursery. Tony, of course, had offered to have someone come in to do all the heavy lifting, but Peter was insistent that he be the one to set everything up. His protectiveness over you and the rapidly growing child you were carrying had only increased as the months went on, so much so that you were lucky now if he'd even let you stand for long enough to watch him put the baby's furniture together. It was endearing, really, how much he cared for the two of you, but you'd be lying if you said that you weren't becoming a little frustrated with how little you could do to help.

"Really Peter, I can help," you grumbled, annoyed. "I'm pregnant, not disabled."

"Of course you could help angel, but I don't need help," he grunted, eyes never leaving the mass of parts around him. "You already have to do all the work of growing and housing our baby, the least I can do is build the crib!"

"Housing?" you teased, quirking an eyebrow.

"You know what I meant," he grumbled, and you couldn't help but chuckle at his growing frustration.

Peter was clearly losing his grip just a bit as he struggled to make sense of the instructions that had been provided with the pieces. He sighed, throwing the pamphlet down on the ground before trudging over to where you stood, leaning against the changing table that he'd put together a few days ago.

"I've engineered web-fluid from absolutely nothing, re-built computers from scratch and yet I can't even manage to put this stupid bed together," he whined as he dropped his head down onto your shoulder in defeat. "M'gonna be a terrible father."

"Ohhh bubs," you cooed sympathetically, smile falling quickly and heart lurching at the tone of pure dejection in his voice.

You wrapped your arms around him, one snaking around his back and the other cradling his head. Your fingers began instantly carding through his chocolate-brown locks as he nuzzled his nose lightly into the junction of your neck and shoulder. His hands wound their way around your waist too- or as well as they could with your round tummy in the way- and his own hands began absentmindedly tracing patterns over your bump.

"Peter you have to know that isn't true," you soothed, kissing his cheek softly. "You're going to be an amazing dad."

He hummed non-commitally.

"You think you're not?" you challenged, fingers halting their dance against his scalp. "Do the thing."

He raised his head from your shoulder, brows furrowed in confusion.

"What does that have to do with-"

"Do the thing," you interrupted sternly. He sighed and knelt down, grumbling inaudible complaints as he went. Once he was face to face with your bump he placed his hands on either side, thumbs rubbing soft circles into your stretched-out skin.

"Hi baby, it's me, your daddy," he spoke softly into your stomach, lips so close that you shivered with each breath that ghosted over your clothed belly. "I love you so much."

The baby responded instantly at the sound of Peter's voice, feet jabbing out and kicking excitedly from within just underneath where his hands lay. You felt your heart skip a beat at both the feeling the movement in your belly and the sight of the dopey smile that lit up Peter's handsome face as he felt his child's kicks. You rubbed over his hands lovingly and smiled down at him.

"See bubs? He starts throwing a party in there every time you do that. He loves you so much already, that's not gonna change," you reassured him softly. Peter's smile dropped just a little.

"But the crib-"

"Fuck the crib," you responded stubbornly. "You are the most caring, sweetest, and most thoughtful person I know Peter. You're going to be the world's best dad."

"Whoa whoa, believe we're the ones with the mugs that claim that title," a voice chuckled from the doorway.

You smiled fondly, eyes darting to find the sight of your Pops leaning casually against the frame of the door with your dad standing just behind him. Both had amused smiles on their faces, and you grinned widely. Even Peter smiled as he rose to his feet and wrapped one of his arms around your back to pull you into his side.

"Okay, third best dad in the world then," you amended, grinning.

"That's better," your dad piped up, smiling. "Now what's this I hear about a faulty crib? Sam said he can hear Peter cursing all the way from his room."

Peter groaned, tilting his head backwards in exasperation as you laughed out loud.

"It isn't faulty, I'm just an idiot," Peter grumbled. Everyone but him chuckled, and your dad walked further into the room. He clapped a hand on Peter's back as he grinned at the younger man.

"Normally I'd agree with you, but I know if I do Steve will bring up how Y/N had to sleep in the bassinet for like 6 months because we couldn't figure out how to put her crib together."

"You mean you couldn't figure it out," your Pops snorted from his place in the doorway. "As I recall, I was not allowed to help with the furniture because you were determined to figure it out on your own."

Bucky shrugged, seemingly indifferent to his husband's insinuation.

"Whatever. Point is, I wanted to see if you wanted some help putting it together. Thought I might be able to give you some tips," your dad continued. Peter's smile widened, and he nodded eagerly before your dad knelt down to help try and make sense of the directions.

The discussion after the incident in the training room had gone much better than you would've ever imagined. Both your dads had been relatively calm once they'd returned from their mission, and surprisingly there had been no screaming, no crying, and no threats towards Peter from Bucky like you'd been picturing. The four of you had sat down together and had a long, mature discussion of what your plans were in terms of raising and caring for your child, and by the end your dads had even seemed enthusiastic about the prospect of being grandparents. Their involvement and excitement had only grown in the following months to the point now that you felt silly for ever having been frightened to tell them.

And now as you stood watching your boyfriend and dad work together to put your child's room together, tears began collecting in your eyes and you felt your chest warm with feelings of overwhelming love. Steve, noticing your tears, moved to wrap his arms around you and you leaned your head against his shoulder. Rubbing your belly lovingly, you couldn't help but feel a wave of gratitude wash over you for the men in your life and love for the little one that you'd all be meeting soon.

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bitsandbobsofwriting · 3 years

Text

The God of Magic just wants humanity to be happy and thriving;

Version 1, Good!Merlin

INTRO

(Version 2, Dark!Merlin)

“You’re late.”

From their place in the bushes, the gang can see a wide grin break out on the woman’s face as she raises an eyebrow:

“You’re always getting distracted by pretty flowers or interesting conversations, how was I supposed to know that you’d be on time for once?”

Her voice somehow sounds like an ocean in a storm, ear-splittingly loud as the sound cuts right through them to the core, but also a gentle stream, soft and clear and soul-cleansing. The gang struggle not to flinch in their confusion.

Merlin chuckles slightly, shaking his head as he softly replies:

“Ah, I see, you were expecting me to be late, so you told me to turn up half a candle-mark before you intended to get here.”

She raises an eyebrow and nods:

“In the hopes I wouldn’t have to stand around and wait too long,-”

She shudders slightly as her face falls, though she manages to look beautifully intimidating even with a slight scowl on her face:

“-you know how much I hate it up here, on dry land.”

Merlin nods. He looks around him passingly, and the gang tense as his eyes rove over their hiding place; their fear is quickly replaced with shock (and even more confusion) as it strikes them that they’ve never seen Merlin look so relaxed, so at ease. He finally looks back to the woman:

“Hmm. I may not agree with you on that, but I understand. I could have met you at Avalon, you know.”

The woman frowns even more, and the gang can see Merlin tilt his head in question, even more so when she replies:

“I... wanted this conversation to be private, away from the prying eyes and ears of Mother and our Siblings.”

Merlin’s shoulders tense, and Arthur can vaguely see the outline of his hands clenching tightly in his pockets as his cloak billows in a sudden wind. The knights, Gwen, and Morgana all look to each other in confusion, Merlin had never spoken of siblings before, in fact, they’re fairly certain he specifically told them that he’s an only child. This woman was so drastically different from Merlin in appearance, they couldn’t possibly be related by blood. Perhaps she means "siblings" in a similar sense to how the knights are brothers?

A tense silence passes between the two, but it’s quickly broken by Merlin letting out a deep, bone-weary sigh, his relaxed demeanour completely dissolved, and looking to the floor, mumbling:

“What’s this about, Ava?”

The woman, Ava, the gang now know, lets out a sigh of her own, tilting her head and waiting for Merlin to look at her again before speaking, her voice sounding more consistently soft the more she spoke, as if she needed practice to regulate her volume:

“I think you know, Em.-”

(”Em?? I guess that could be a shortened version of ‘Merlin’, but... not really.”)

“-Time is running out, existence is threadbare as it is, and only getting worse with each passing day. The world is splitting, cracking down the middle; magic is running thin-”

Everyone feels Arthur tense at the mention of magic, even more so at Merlin’s non-reaction to the word. Though everyone is already understandably on edge by the way the woman speaks as if the world is ending around them, and they hadn’t even noticed:

“-and we are starving. The fates of The Bane-”

Mordred manages to stop himself falling backwards, but his sudden shaky breath earns him a concerned glance from Gwaine, crouched besides him:

“-and The Darkness have been avoided, if you do not move forward now, then when? With every day you stall, you plan, you stand idly by and wait, we choke on the gaping emptiness of a world that is leaking.-”

Merlin holds up a shaking hand to stop her, his other running through his hair in frustration as he murmurs:

“I know, I know-”

The gang watches with tense, morbid curiosity as Ava cuts him off, her expression both annoyed and sympathetic:

“I don’t think you do, Em. You haven’t been home in years. Could you stand it? To be God of Magic with no Magic to be God over? No universe to hold dominion over?”

Merlin scoffs slightly and walks to the side in his frustration, and the gang can see the melancholy annoyance on his face, plain as day. It’s almost enough to make them forget that he visited Ealdor just last month. It’s definitely not enough to distract them from the fact that she had called Merlin a God. The God of Magic, of all things. What the fuck??:

“I don’t hold dominion over anything I just... am.”

Ava rolls her eyes:

“That’s not the point and you know it. Mother sent you to fix the problem, to stop the purge, to encourage the Once and Future King to bring magic back and start the Golden Age. He has been King for years, but you still act as a servant. You are a God, Em, assert yourself. You could fix the world with a click of your fingers, but you wait for the humans to do it for you.-”

Merlin interrupts her slightly impassioned speech with a deep huff and a shake of the head. From where he now stands, the gang have a healthy view of his side profile, and they can see the emotions warring on his face: frustration, grief, desperation:

“That isn’t... that’s not what I’m doing-”

She rolls her eyes again and the gang are vaguely aware of a distant crack of thunder as she gestures sharply with her hands:

“That is what you’re doing. You’ve become too attached to these... mortals.-”

She steps towards him, cradling his cheek in a soft, elegant hand as her face morphs to one of complete and utter sorrow:

“-You’re setting yourself up for heartbreak, Brother. Human lifespans, the lifespan of your precious Golden King, are but a blink of an eye compared to ours; they will all wither and die and fade from you, and you will be left with your grief forever.-”

Her other hand lifts to settle comfortingly on his shoulder, and the gang can see a single tear slip from Merlin’s lowered eyes:

“-Do what you came here to do, and come home, to Avalon, we miss you, Em, the family needs you back.”

Merlin stills for a few moments at her desperate plea, but then steps back, shrugging her hands off gently and wiping the tear from his face:

“No. I... I’m doing this properly. Mother understands my fondness for humanity, that’s why she sent me, and I’m going to do it properly.”

Ava huffs out a gentle laugh at his determined expression, shaking her head slightly in fond disbelief:

“How can you love them? These... humans, when they slaughter your creations, when they don’t even know what you are?”

Merlin smiles softly, his eyes gazing into the trees as he quietly responds, his voice full of enough adoration to take the gang's breath away, to temper the twinge of fear and betrayal that had been swelling in Arthur’s lungs:

"I love them because they don't know what I am. It's nice, to be human; to walk among them, being loved and hated and respected and touched as if I were not more than they could ever possibly comprehend. Humanity is... made of juxtapositions. Their existence is contradiction upon contradiction, weaved together and held with emotions so large I can scarcely understand how they're contained in such little bodies. I've been alive and watching them for millennia, lived side-by-side with them for almost three decades, and they still surprise me. To walk among them, to see them come to terms with this universe that We made for them, to see how desperately they crave knowledge, exploration, experience... it's beautiful. The way they love so fully, the way they find meaning and importance in every grain of sand, every ray of sun, every tuft of fur on every creature, it's humbling. It's astounding."

Ava has a soft smile on her face, looking as if she could listen to her Brother ramble about his love for humanity for decades. She shakes her head slightly, letting out a gentle sigh as she asks:

"Then why won't you save them? The Gods will starve without magic, but humanity will starve without the Gods."

Merlin pauses for a moment, his face scrunched in concentration as he tries to think of the right way to verbalize his thoughts.

The gang stare on in unconcealed bafflement; the realisation that Merlin is some kind of God brings less fear or anger than they think it should. Maybe it’s the shock, or maybe it’s the reverent way he speaks about them. Either way, they stay still and silent in their hiding place, and eventually Merlin’s face settles back into a soft smile as he looks to his Sister:

"I wish to see them save themselves, not because We need them to, but because they want to. Because their desperation to explore this universe will one day outweigh their misguided hatred of magic.-"

He nods decisively, repeating in a confident voice:

"-I wish to see them save themselves."

Ava sighs once more, stepping toward Merlin and putting her hand back on his shoulder:

“Your wishes may soon become... irrelevant. We’re dying, Emrys,-”

Arthur struggles to hold in a gasp at that. Emrys. He knows that name. Apparently it’s the name of a God, and not just some secret sorcerer who took a fancy to Camelot and deemed himself it’s protector. Lancelot’s eyes widen, though he manages to hide his shock well; no one else is focused on anyone else’s reactions, all internally freaking out.

Mordred is pale and breathing shallowly, being the only one in the group who had already known the full truth. Percival looks to be in shock, he grew up with the stories of Emrys, but to learn that Emrys was a God? That Merlin was said God? Not what he was expecting out of this little trip. Gwaine, Gwen, Morgana, and Elyan look worried, seeming to have pushed aside their shock in favour of being concerned over Merlin’s safety and sorrow. Leon stares upon the scene with scholarly-looking curiosity, hiding his apprehension and shock well. Arthur’s expression is... unreadable. Ironically, the only person capable of knowing what he was thinking just from looking at him was currently having an incredibly terrifying conversation with someone who is also presumably some kind of God(dess).

“-time is running out. I know that you don’t want to, but... it might be best to tell them the truth. You adore your humans because of their ability to love, do you not think they love you enough to forgive you your deceptions?”

Merlin clenches his jaw, and it’s the anguish on his face, paired with his almost-whispered words, that breaks their hearts:

“I... no. Just because I love them does not mean they love me back. I’m just a servant, Ava, I’ll never be important enough to be forgiven, God or not; I’ve lied to them for over ten years.”

She sighs, letting a tear of her own fall as she quietly responds:

“Emrys, you undervalue your worth, they don’t-”

“No. I don’t. You’re right, I have one life-time with them, with... with Arthur, and then I’ll lose them, and I’ll spend the rest of eternity grieving. I refuse to taint the already short time I have with them by having to watch them grow to hate me. I refuse.”

Merlin frowns as Ava rolls her eyes fondly, a victorious smirk on her face:

“If you would let me finish. They don’t hate you now, despite learning what they have just learnt, and you have yet to tell them of all you’ve done for them. Their love for you will only grow, Brother.”

Merlin tilts his head and raises an eyebrow. The gang take in a collective gasp at the realisation that she knows. And has likely known the whole time.

“What are you talking about?”

Ava’s smirk just grows, and she looks to the bushes the gang is hiding in, seeming to make direct eye-contact with a panicking Arthur as she speaks, he voice echoing unnaturally through the clearing:

“You can come out now.”

At her words, Merlin’s head whips around to stare at where she was looking. He opens his mind, allows his magic to stretch around him, and his skull is immediately full to burst with echoes of Mordred’s earlier, and ongoing, warnings, as well as the overwhelming presence of The (former) Darkness, The Once and Future King, and the others. He takes a stumbled step back, hand covering his mouth and tears spilling from his eyes as he becomes more and more convinced of... well... his time being tainted.

The gang stand and shuffle out of the bushes slowly, eyes trained on the floor and hands clasped in front of them tightly. It’s Merlin’s quiet, cracking “No...” that has them look up, paling at the absolute heartbreak on his face.

Lancelot and Gwaine give him weak, though genuine smiles, holding their hands out placatingly, but they halt their movements forward when Merlin just copies them pace for pace, moving away from them.

No one notices Ava rolling her eyes, not until she steps behind Merlin and puts a halting hand on his shoulder, stopping him from moving further away.

Merlin whips his head around, and another loud clap of thunder sounds out, much closer than the other one, quickly followed by a sudden downpour of frigid rain. The gang look to the sky in confusion, and Mordred desperately tries to reach Merlin through the mental link, offering comfort and reassurance; Merlin doesn’t seem to notice, the rain falling harder and harder as he almost fall to his knees, speaking in a desperate voice to his sister:

“Why... why would you... you know what this means. Why... why would you do this?! Ava?”

She rolls her eyes again, seeming to glow effervescently under the rivers of rainwater running down her face and over her clothes. She forces Merlin to turn and look at the gang, holding her hands on his shoulders to stop him from backing away (or collapsing in his grief) :

“Look at them, Em. Do they look angry to you? You should have some faith in the humans you claim to love so much. Look at them.”

Everyone in the gang gives Merlin varying levels of strained smiles; though Merlin, in his panic, is unable to tell that the strain is from concern and guilt, thinking that it was instead from hatred. He falls to his knees, his eyes shut tight enough to give him a headache and his hands clamped over his mouth in an effort to hold the sobs in.

Gwen and Morgana are the first to rush forwards, not paying the slightest bit of attention to Merlin’s... sister or the knights as they collapse to the floor in front of their friend, not sure whether to keep their distance or try to comfort the distraught man... God.

It’s his next choked sob that urges them to move once again, and the girls pull Merlin into a hug, tears of their own gathering at his agony. He freezes at first, then tries to pull away as lightening streaks across the sky, the violent bursts in sync with his choked breaths. When Gwen strokes a soft hand through his knotted hair, and Morgana pulls him further into her lap, muttering “We’re not leaving you, Merls, not ever, we love you.”, he relaxes slightly.

The thunder and lightening cease, but the rain still pours as Arthur stares over the pile of crying bodies to the woman, whose eyes seem to be growing brighter and brighter in the deluge. She stares right back at him, and The King jumps slightly when her voice echoes through her head, despite her still face:

“My brother has lost enough, please do not shatter his heart.”

Arthur nods once, before following Lancelot’s lead to the others, the rest of the knights not far behind them as Ava disappears. Whether she walked away without noticing or simply faded into the rain, no one knows, but no one really cares either. Soon enough, everyone is gathered around Merlin, stroking his back softly and whispering comforting promises over the sound of the rain. When Leon is the only one to notice Mordred’s eyes flash golden as he summons a shield above them, he simply shrugs his shoulders and refocuses his attention on muttering reassurances in Merlin’s head.

His breathing slows after a while, as does the rain, though everyone panics slightly when they see Morgana frown as she strokes the hair away from his face, revealing flushed cheeks and closed eyes. Mordred’s eyes flash golden once more as he presses a hand to his forehead, though no one lets the shock distract them for too long, latching on to his relieved tone:

“He’s just asleep, that would’ve taken a lot out of him. We should get him back to Gaius.”

The knights all stand, stretching and cracking joints to try and rid themselves of the cold stiffness that had settled in their soaked bones. Morgana stays on the floor, clutching at Merlin in her lap desperately, like he could slip away at any moment. When Arthur leans down to pick him up, she shoots him a glare, her own eyes glowing as the wind picks up once more, whipping through the clearing in an obvious warning. Arthur takes in a gasp, but shakes the surprise from his mind as he settles a soft hand on his sister’s shoulder:

“I... look, we’ll talk about this later, and I promise you’re going to be safe,-”

He glances up to an equally defensive looking Mordred:

“-all three of you, but Mordred’s right, we need to get him home and warmed up.”

Morgana hesitates for only a second, but the concern (and love) in her brother’s eyes sway her, and she nods, ever-so-carefully pulling her arms from around Merlin and helping Arthur get the younger (or... much much older) man situated in his arms before standing up.

The trek back to the castle is a fairly short one now they don’t have to worry about being quiet, and the rain has almost completely stopped by the time they make it to the citadel gates. It’s late, so the only people they come across are the occasional guard. But The King resolutely ignoring them as he carries his unconscious manservant through the corridors, his closest friends and advisors around him either openly crying or blinking away tears... well... it’s something that very much screams “DO NOT DISTURB US DO NOT SPEAK OF THIS IMMEDIATELY FORGET EVERYTHING YOU HAVE JUST SEEN”.

Elyan runs ahead to wake Gaius and warn him, so by the time everyone gets to the Physician’s chambers the fire is roaring, a patient pallet has been moved in front of the hearth, and Gaius himself is bustling around, preparing various concoctions and tinctures and blankets.

Merlin’s still shivering form is laid on the pallet, and Morgana shamelessly uses her magic to pull the heat closer and dry out his clothes. Mordred sits protectively close to the servant, one hand subconsciously close to his sword, the other resting on Merlin’s shoulder. Gwen settles between him an Morgana, and the knights figure that with her complete non-reaction to the magic... she probably already knew, she was smart like that. Gaius finally makes his way to Merlin’s side, tipping a gross smelling potion down his throat and running a hand through his hair, frowning worriedly down at his ward.

Not a single word had been said since they entered through the castle gates, and Arthur is the first to break the silence, sitting on Merlin’s other side, opposite Morgana, and settling an almost accusing expression on his sister:

“You knew, didn’t you?”

She looks up at him, somehow appearing powerful and intimidating despite being soaked through and shivering:

“I knew he was... powerful, I didn’t know he was a God.”

Gaius’ head whips around quickly, and Arthur is surprised at the questioning horror on his face:

“A God?? There must be some mistake, Merlin is powerful yes but he’s not-”

Mordred’s quiet voice interrupts him, though he doesn’t look away from the unconscious man as his fingers twitch over so slightly closer to the hilt of his sword:

“I knew. Though if I’d known he felt so... if I’d known how he felt, I would have spoken to him about it sooner, I apologise.”

Everyone looks at the group’s youngest member in shock, almost speechless, but Gwaine stutters slightly before clearing his throat and trying again:

“So... that was real, Merlin is a fucking God.”

Mordred nods absent-mindedly, eyes flashing golden as he presses his hand to Merlin’s forehead once again, frowning. Arthur’s brow creases in concern and he leans closer to Merlin:

“What is it? Is he ok??”

Before Mordred can reply, Leon speaks up, his voice tired, but strong:

“If he’s some... powerful God, then why is he hurt in the first place? Shouldn’t he be able to resist any sort of injury or sickness??”

Mordred shakes his head, finally looking away from Merlin to gaze at the group surrounding him. He looks doubtful at first, but when he sees the genuine concern on everyone’s faces, especially from Gaius and Arthur, he sighs and speaks softly:

“It’s difficult to describe. Merlin could access the full range of his power and do anything, if he wanted, but it’s draining and complicated when stuck in a human body. He himself is a God, yes, but this form is still vulnerable and mortal; he can get injured, and sick, he can die, or at least the body can. Merlin tends to repair this body when that happens, instead of moving on. He... likes it here.”

Everyone nods, understanding at least a little, though Gaius and Lancelot look the most shell-shocked. The room goes silent once again, and Percival, sat on the floor against the end of Merlin’s pallet with Elyan and Gwaine, is the first to speak, his voice shaking and sorrowful:

“He really thinks so low of himself. He’s a God... and he was terrified of the thought of us hating him, as if such a thing were even possible.”

Gwaine curses under his breath and Leon restarts his slow pacing around the room before he stops suddenly, turning to face the others with a look of anger on his face:

“Well of course he thinks it’s bloody possible. He’s right, we treat him like a fucking servant even though he’s one of our dearest friends, and half of us talk about the evils of sorcery on a near constant basis. He’s the God of Magic, of course he’d think we would hate him.”

Everyone is taken aback at Leon’s rage, though no one can deny that what he’s said is true. Leon is... quietly protective of everyone in the group, and it’s a time like this that reminds all of them that he had known Merlin just as long as Arthur had, and definitely held a certain brotherly affection for the younger (uh... yeah, whatever) man.

The older knight sags slightly, seemingly realising how exhausted he is, and pulls a chair up next to Arthur before collapsing in it, head in his hands. Arthur pats him on the back a few times before looking back to Merlin’s now thankfully not-shivering form, taking in a deep breath and nodding his head decisively:

“Well, we’ll just have to show him that it isn’t possible. I... we need to show him that he’s... important to us. Loved.”

Morgana just raises her eyebrow at The King, but doesn’t say anything as Gaius mutters a tearful “My poor boy.” under his breath. Elyan stands from his place on the floor, moving to perch on a bench behind his sister and setting a comforting hand on her shoulder as he softly speaks:

“He needs to know that we want him to stay here, with us.”

Percival shakes his head slightly, looking conflicted:

“Wouldn’t that be... cruel? That woman... Ava, was right. We’ll all grow old and die and he’s a God, he’ll live forever and he’ll grieve. Isn’t asking him to stay selfish?”

No one has an answer, and the room grows silent, everyone stewing in their own tense thoughts, trying to weigh the pros and cons, trying to measure exactly how selfish they were willing to be when it came to Merlin.

The sun rising over the horizon and peaking through the uncovered windows is what wakes everyone (bar Merlin) from their fitful sleeps. All of them had been plagued with odd dreams and nightmares through the night, so despite their exhaustion, they were grateful to be awake.

No one said anything though, waking one by one and pacing briefly around the room in an attempt to cure themselves of the aches gained from falling asleep in such awkward positions.

It’s still incredibly early in the morning, so thankfully none of them are needed for at least two more candle marks, but it’s Lancelot who breaks the silence first, clearing his throat and looking down at his best friend:

“It wouldn’t be selfish.”

Arthur looks up to him, noting the bags under everyone’s eyes and the tear tracks no one had bothered to wipe away:

“What are you talking about?”

The knight runs a hand through his hair, sniffling slightly and taking a deep breath before he stares around the room, making sure everyone was awake and paying attention as he spoke:

“For us to tell him we want him to stay, it wouldn’t be selfish. You heard him, he loves it here, he’s desperate to stay, he loves us. He still has at least thirty years worth of memories to make with us, and yeah, maybe that’s not a lot in the grand scheme of the immortal life of a God, but it’s more than the ten he’s already got. We can’t take that away from him. He... he wants to be here. Telling him to leave just to alleviate our own guilt... that would be selfish.”

Everyone looks a little doubtful, bar Mordred, and it’s him that Arthur turns to:

“Mordred? You knew... what he is, which we are still definitely going to have a conversation about by the way, what do you think?”

Mordred sighs, biting his lip for a moment before finally ripping his gaze from Merlin’s still unconscious, but now healthier looking body:

“He is more than any of us will ever be able to comprehend. You still see him as just Merlin, he is, but he’s also much more; he is Emrys, the saviour, the God, the Guiding Light. He is magic itself, woven into the fabric of the universe. He inhabits every space, and no space at the same time, he exists in every grain of sand, every drop of ocean, every speck of sky. To... to assume that he is not capable of deciding what he wants is an act of unforgivable hubris. If he stays, who are you to demand he leave and name yourselves selfish, when he has not deemed it so?”

Arthur pales slightly at Mordred’s words, as does everyone else. Gwaine seems to be taking it in his stride, and Lancelot seems less surprised than Arthur thinks he should (definitely something to question, but not right now), but before anyone can say anything, Merlin twitches, a low groan escaping his throat as his brows crease.

Everyone moves quickly, gathering around his bedside in a huddle. Morgana, Mordred, and Gwen are grateful to still be sat in their seats, and if they weren’t so busy worriedly leaning over Merlin they would be rolling their eyes at the way the others were pushing and shoving to be at the front. Gaius elbows his way to be stood by Merlin’s head, a cold compress in one hand and a grey looking potion in the other.

Morgana strokes a hand through Merlin’s hair and the frown on his face eases; he blinks his eyes open, swallowing before grimacing at the taste in his mouth and groaning again. Gwen leans over his head, smiling as she settles a hand on his warm cheek:

“Morning sleepyhead. How are you feeling?”

Merlin just groans again, rubbing his shaking hands harshly into his eyes as he says, his voice dry and painful-sounding:

“Ugh. Like Arthur’s aim got miraculously better.”

Arthur rolls his eyes and flushes slightly, but before he can defend himself Merlin bolts upright, taking in a deep, ragged breath, eyes wide. Mordred focuses a concentrated expression on the side of Merlin’s head, but Arthur ignores it as he reaches forward, settling a hand on the dark-haired man’s shoulder and muttering his name:

“Merlin?”

Merlin’s breathing only gets deeper as he whips his head around to stare at Arthur. The blonde tries to smile comfortingly at him, but Merlin barely seems to notice as he scrambles back on the bed, only stopping when he comes into contact with Leon behind him.

Mordred’s face morphs into a concerned frown at Merlin’s terror, and now his tears, so instead of waiting for the man to calm down enough to let them explain, he rushes forward, grabbing the back of Merlin’s head and forcing their foreheads together before he can pull away. He shuts his eyes tightly, muttering some sort of incantation under his breath. Merlin gasps loudly and Mordred groans, holding their heads together for a few moments before collapsing back into his seat, clamping his hands over his eyes as if trying to press a headache away. Merlin slumps back against the warm body behind him, and Leon just about manages to catch him in strong arms before he falls to the floor.

This had all happened in the space of a few moments, and when the two of them still, the others unfreeze. Arthur turns on Mordred:

“What did you do?? What was that?!”

Mordred groans again, looking up blearily, first at Merlin, who seems to be in a similar state to him, leant against Leon, and then to Arthur:

“He wasn’t calming down, so I shared my memories. From when we met at the edge of the forest yesterday, to just before he woke up. It’ll take him a little longer than me to sort through them.”

Arthur nods and Morgana looks impressed, and everyone looks to Merlin again, waiting for him to pull the hands from his eyes and talk to them, look at them, anything.

He finally seems to relax his muscles and Leon rubs his hands up and down his arms softly; despite the fact that he’d been warmed by the fire, the knight was still oddly worried about Merlin being too cold. He lets out a deep breath, lowering his shaking hands as he slowly raises his teary gaze, staring at Arthur:

“You... you want me to stay?”

Arthur ignores the tears dripping down his cheeks as nods desperately, forcing a soft smile on his face as he sniffles:

“Yes. Please. We don’t want you to go, we don’t hate you.”

Merlin launches himself at Arthur and the only thing stopping The King from falling back from Merlin’s surprising weight is Percival’s hand on his back. Arthur wraps his arms tightly around Merlin’s middles, turning his head to press a kiss to the other man’s temple as he tries to get his tears under control; he completely ignores the others in favour of muttering into Merlin’s hair:

“It’s alright, Merlin. You stay here, with us, as long as you want. We... I, love you. Stay, please.”

Merlin just sobs harder, gripping the back of Arthur’s tunic as he kneels on the bed, his response stuttering and barely understandable:

“But- but I’m-”

Arthur just hushes him, stroking a hand through his hair and giving everyone else in the room pointed looks. They all crowd around Merlin again, placing comforting hands on his back and shoulders and arms and hands. Mordred whispers his adoration in Merlin’s head, and Morgana presses a kiss to the nape of his neck, all in the hopes of convincing him that the memories he had were true.

His breathing finally calms, and Arthur shuffles to the side so he can sit down next to him, not daring to remove the arms from around his neck or push him away. Merlin pulls away himself when Arthur settles, but doesn’t move far, and there’s no space between them as he hastily wipes the tears from his face, staring at him lap, cheeks flushed. Arthur takes his hand slowly in his, but Merlin still doesn’t look up, so Morgana kneels in front of him, placing her hand on his knee softly and saying with a teasing smirk on her face:

“You know, if I’d known that my teacher was The God of Magic, I might’ve complained less at the studying you make me do.”

Merlin finally looks up at her, a weak smile on his face, and Morgana winks at him. It’s Gwaine who tries next, settling on Merlin’s other side and sighing loudly:

“Forget the God thing do you know how many pranks we could’ve pulled if you’d told me you had magic?? Can’t believe you’d take that opportunity from me, all of you.”

He gives Mordred and Morgana jokingly offended glares and they roll their eyes, though their attention is quickly drawn back to Merlin, whose hands are clenching tightly in his lap. The room goes dark all of a sudden, and a glance to the window would tell them that the clear morning was suddenly overcast, thunder rumbling in the distance as rain slammed against the glass. Arthur squeezes Merlin’s hand and quickly, though gently, shoves Morgana out of the way, kneeling in front of Merlin and lifting his chin with his free hand:

“It’s fine, Merlin. We’ve all got a ton of questions but everything’s going to be alright, I swear. In fact, I’m glad we found out, it was cruel of us to make you live in a kingdom where you aren’t accepted, but that changes now, I promise.”

Merlin stands suddenly and walks between them, taking a deep breath before turning suddenly a scowl on his face:

“It wasn’t her choice to make, it was mine, and she took it from me.-”

With every harsh the thunder grew closer and the glass in the window frame shook more violently:

“-I was going to tell you after you changed your mind about magic because it had to come from the heart. You can’t change the Kingdom just for my sake! I wanted to do it properly and she took that from me because she was bored!”

Everyone rushes to say something in an effort to calm him down, both for the safety of the windows and his happiness, but Arthur’s blunt-

“Why?”

-stops them in their tracks. Merlin looks to him sharply, though Arthur is grateful for the thunder quietening down as he replies:

“What do you mean why? Why what?”

Arthur huffs out a gentle laugh, shaking his head in disbelief:

“Why can’t I change the Kingdom for you? You’re important, you’ve touched so many lives in so many wonderous ways; that in itself tells me that magic isn’t evil, so why can’t I change the Kingdom for you?”

The thunder stops and the rain slows to a gentle patter as Merlin tilts his head, his scowl of anger morphing into a sad, confused frown as he responds in a small voice:

“But... I’m just a servant. You’re not doing it out of fear, so I’m still just... nobody important.”

Arthur just laughs again, walking towards Merlin and settling soft hands on his shoulders, grateful to feel the others close to his back:

“You have never once been just a servant, Merlin. Something tells me you’ve been saving my life, and this Kingdom, since the day we met, so even if it had no effect on anyone else whatsoever, I would still change the law. Because you are a good man, and you are important, and you deserve it. Compared to you, it is us, who are just human.-”

Merlin frowns again and Arthur rolls his eyes to stop him arguing:

“-Just... give me another hug, and accept it. You idiot.”

He can feel someone (probably Morgana) thump him on the back, but he doesn’t turn around, eagerly returning Merlin’s hug when the brunette wraps his arms around Arthur’s middle tightly. The King presses closer, uncaring of what his audience thinks of him for the first time in his life (probably because he has a feeling that they’ve known of his... affections, longer than even he has) and mutters his question into Merlin’s ear:

“We... I love you, Merlin, more than anything. Will you stay with me?”

The King is vaguely aware of his First Knight whispering “I told you so, idiot.” behind him, but all he cares about is the sensation of the God, more ancient and powerful than anything he could ever comprehend, nodding into is neck.

THE END!!

I really enjoyed writing this, and I hope y’all like it!!

Link to the Dark!Merlin version (I warn you, it’s hella angsty) is at the top!! :)

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runnyeggsnham · 3 years

Text

I didn’t really keep up with all the metas while Loki was airing so forgive me but--

It only just occurred to me that Loki’s initial anger toward Mobius in episode 4 is not (just) because Mobius was arresting/collaring him and taking him back to a time theater for interrogation 2.0, but because he thought Mobius had lied to him from square one...a seed planted by Ravonna’s actions in episode 3 that Mobius definitely unintentionally played into with the collaring redux.

Loki followed Sylvie through the portal to capture her, to prove his worth to the TVA and thus get a chance to meet the Time Keepers, right? It wasn’t actually, really, a betrayal of Mobius. But Ravonna was ready to prune him on sight. She didn’t care that Loki and Sylvie had been fighting or that Sylvie had her blade to Loki’s throat. She was ready to prune both of them, to be done with both of them, so Loki actually escaping with Sylvie this time was purely a means of survival. It was his only way.

Nevermind that Loki tried to offer the olive branch to Sylvie twice during their fighting; Ravonna never knew that, so that never informed her actions -- she stumbled upon Loki when he was trying to play the TVA’s game and damned him anyway. And Ravonna never told Mobius that, about how Sylvie had the upper hand over Loki when she found them, did she? It doesn’t sound like she did, with how Mobius talked or with how easily she lied and tried to manipulate him later with the “I’m just trying to protect you” and “is that what you want to hear?”

And well, Loki clearly didn’t resort to this betrayal belief right away -- on Lamentis, he’s still defending his association with the TVA, his “consultant” status; he’s upset to hear that the TVA kidnaps variants to be workers, because Mobius so obviously doesn’t know that, is operating off a comfortable lie of a higher purpose -- but later the portals open up...and he’s immediately apprehended by Mobius. He’s treated like a prisoner again, all illusions of advancement stripped away. Of course that would make him indignant -- he was only trying to do the right thing, and then he was just trying to not get pruned by Ravonna, and... well, Mobius and Ravonna are close. Loki knows this. And that would be the root assumption of the misunderstanding, wouldn’t it? (And that Loki clearly made an allegation about the pruning upon their capture, which Mobius clearly dismissed, as Loki’s dialogue suggests later, just reaffirming his assumption.)

Mobius is able to get favors from Ravonna because of their friendship, is able to sweep over Loki’s attempted sabotage and get him a second chance because of their friendship, so why wouldn’t Loki immediately jump to...was it a manipulation from the very beginning? Just another trick, another betrayal, another false sincerity. Mobius was lying the entire time, dangling the Time Keepers meeting in front of him, all the while knowing that pruning was his destiny whenever they finally caught Sylvie. This leap of logic is so Loki, it would be so natural for his perspective and his experiences to meet that conclusion, and it finally clicks together that first sequence of dialogue between Loki and Mobius. It’s what makes the most sense to me. It’s why Loki is quiet and Mobius has to talk first, because Loki is seething with an anger more from hurt than anything else, and when he’s hurt he loses his edge.

Well? Well what? I know you got some quip you’re dying to say. Oh, I don’t have a quip! I’ve got nothing to say to you. Come on.

Loki completely sidesteps Mobius’ tone, that dismissive and camaraderie-filled come on, because he think he’s become disillusioned of Mobius and he’ll put up a fight against that manipulation...without realizing the very thing he complains about next is an indication of the completely and utter miscommunication that has occurred between them, of how they are operating on two entirely different wavelengths.

By the way, I should have an equal amount of security. This is insulting! You just can’t help yourself.

And when Mobius acts amused again, warm and calm and level Mobius same as always, Loki snaps.

You betrayed me! You betrayed me. Oh, grow up! You grow up!

The grow up spat always confused me, but if Loki thinks he’s seen the truth through Mobius’ façade, then suddenly that childish and highly upset retort makes sense, because it’s like: grow up, it was nothing personal, it was about being practical, right? Grow up, of course I betrayed you, you were betraying me from the start, you were never going to follow through on your promises so why should I, right?

You know it occurred to me that you’re not really the God of Mischief. Oh, here it comes. The folksy dopey insult from the folksy dope. What am I? The God of Self-Sabotage? Eh? The God of Backstabbing?

Loki’s completely incensed. And his insulting description of Mobius is so personally aimed...because he’s hurt. Because he feels stupid for trusting Mobius. And the names he gives himself all just reference how Mobius had gained his trust, right? Mobius showed him his timeline, showed him the patterns of self-sabotage, and acted like he was trying to help Loki move beyond that. Mobius knows Loki backstabs, called him out on it, yet acted like he would give Loki a second chance to move beyond that. The names Loki gives himself, assuming that’s how Mobius sees him, just give him away as he twists the knife into himself and makes the situation worse.

Just kind of an asshole. And a bad friend. Yeah. Chew on that for a little bit.

Which, now I get this moment! This face makes sense! Loki’s realization here that Mobius saw him as a friend, still could see him as a friend, presents an ‘oh shit’ moment for Loki. It completely explains his next dialogue! But before that, it explains his 180 turn to pleading. His giving in to his complete and utter panic.

What is this? You’ll see. Mobius!

He shows his fear to Mobius, completely drops his anger, his defenses, his own scoffing façade. And Mobius doesn’t take him seriously, throwing his style of insults back in his face, but Loki still tries. He tries to reconnect with Mobius...and with the variant truth, because that’s what’s most important, that’s what he needs Mobius to know, what Mobius deserves to know...but it doesn’t matter that he pleads, that he’s sincere, because Mobius is on the defensive now, Loki has kicked up Mobius’ own hurt, and he can’t take that back. Mobius won’t listen to him.

One last desperate trick from the desperate trickster. Go ahead. The TVA is lying to you. ...Put him in. No--

(That quiet no is tragic.)

But for all Loki is suddenly fearful of the severity of his false assumption and ensuing self-sabotage, of Mobius’ own hurting anger and false assumption...the time loop prison is a surprise. He’s relieved.

And sure, that relief doesn’t last, because getting kicked in the junk a hundred times and being told you will always be alone is no walk in the park, even if it happens in your beloved home you never thought you would see again, but it is certainly not the worst memory of his. He even laughs when he first enters.

So...by assuming this...it frames Loki’s worn down acceptance later of I’m scared of being alone and his attempted return to defensive, wary sass with Mobius -- It seems you and I are in a loop of our own -- as a friend of a broken bond floundering to right it, to overcome his own hurt and pride and fears and find that middle ground again. It’s in his own sighs and scoffs at himself for not breaking through to Mobius, for letting Mobius lead the conversation and getting put on the back-foot. But he kicked up Mobius’ hurt by this point and he can’t read Mobius when he’s like this.

He tries to get Mobius to extend that promise of freedom again, to talk like they did before, but Mobius reduces that to a cockroach’s survival mechanism and Loki fails, sighs in frustration. Mobius completely confuses him by suggesting he is working for Sylvie, then with Sylvie. And when Mobius puts the betrayal blame and accusation on Loki, again...Loki reverts. Mobius is a wall in front of him, impenetrable. Loki doesn’t know how to do this, he doesn’t know how to make Mobius listen to him, how to even start, how to control this interrogation. He has no assurances anymore. The start of a friendship is gone. It’s about survival now. So he reverts to his own assumption that Mobius knew about Ravonna’s attempted pruning, that it was the plan all along, and uses the one thing Mobius wants as leverage.

Why don’t you just tell me what caused the nexus event? on Lamentis? Let me say this again: I’m not going to tell you, just so you can turn around immediately afterward and prune me! I guess we’ve reached a dead end then. Okay. It’s over. I’m going to miss our little tête-à-têtes. Me too.

See? Loki definitely made reference to Ravonna trying to prune him before, off screen, but Mobius obviously dismissed it. So he tries, again, because Mobius had put their relationship in the context of friendship, Mobius had put him in a prison that was at least his home, Mobius says there’s been a lot of water under the bridge...and I think there’s truth in Loki’s agreement about the tête-à-têtes there. Everything about this scene, here and before and after, shows Loki’s hesitant and lingering care for Mobius.

But Mobius calls his bluff on this withholding of information. And he’ll put him back in the time loop prison, and he didn’t contradict Loki’s assumption about the pruning, so Loki pleads wait...he gets Mobius’ attention...and he tries his classic move: tell them what they want to hear, what they assume he has done, what role they assume he has played in the given scheme. He lies.

Would he have tried the truth sooner, again, instead of as a last resort, if Mobius had actually responded to the allegation of pruning? If Mobius hadn’t assumed Loki betrayed him at Roxxcart, but considered that maybe Loki was betrayed at the TVA? Now there’s a fic idea

#lokius #wowki #time husbands #loki laufeyson #mobius m mobius #ravonna renslayer #m;#tv #(idk i have a lot of thoughts and this was probably obvious to a lot of people lol #but for me it was a blink and you miss it kind of thing.)#(forgive any typos or w/e i am tired pls.)#commentary #p;spark

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cazimagines · 3 years

Text

Never break the chain

Synopsis: You were Zemo’s devoted girlfriend, he would take you all over the world and treat you to everything you want in life however that all changed the day Sokiva fell. Consumed by anger Zemo went off the deep end trying to avenge his fallen country and you last saw him being escorted to prison. Years later you became really ill and there was only one thing that could save you. After a lot of searching you finally managed to get your hands on some super soldier serum which saved you however Zemo is now out of prison as is determined to finish what he started no matter what stood in his way.

Warnings/Tags: Bad Zemo, Mentions of guns, Toxic relationship, Almost cried while writing this, Hits in the feelings, Lots of angst, So much angst, Mentions of death

Word count: 1.7k

Author’s note: Hello my fellow masochists *cough* Markiplier *cough*, I for one thrive on sad moments in fics, ones that break my heart. I live off angst and I am sure I am not the only one in this so I have written this angsty Zemo fic. There is no fluff here just sadness so you have been warned. I’m going to write a really sweet and fluff filled one shot after this as an apology. Also warning this relationship is toxic so like obviously I don’t condone Zemo’s behaviour in this, he’s meant to be a dick here.

I got inspired to write this from a song so like if you want extra emotions listen to this: https://youtu.be/1A8YpV1tfsQ

This is also being posted on my ao3 account under the name Casmad

The wind blew sharply against you, the coldness of it scratching your skin. Your eyes water up slightly at the harshness of it and you wrap your arms around your body trying to warm yourself up. You looked out over the cliff, looking over now the deserted area you once called home. Sokovia. Its beautiful landscape is broken and torn apart. An echo of how magnificent it once was. You raise your hand to touch the chain that hung around your neck. A reminder of the past.

“Darling I would be honored if you wore this for me. I have a similar one I’ll always keep around my neck so that even when we are apart, there’s a part of us that will always be together” Zemo asks nervously, swallowing and glancing from the necklace in his hand to your face.

You put your hands onto his, taking the necklace, “I’ll never take it off”

Zemo’s face broke out into a smile, his eyes shining as he wraps his arms around you and pulls you into his chest. He holds you closely as you close your eyes melting into his presence. He kisses the top of your forehead and rests the top of his head on yours. “My beautiful moon” he murmurs

A tear slowly slipped down your cheek as you thought back to better times. You had been so happy with him. You two had planned your whole lives out together. The Baron and Baroness.

“Would you care to accompany me to the ball?” Zemo asks, holding his arm out to you.

“Oh I don’t know should I?” you joke, holding your chin in your hand as if questioning it, making Zemo chuckle.

“If you do I promise you can be in charge in the bedroom tonight,” he says as he leans into you. You grin back at him, raising your hand to his suit jacket and pulling him towards you for a kiss. As you feel his lips on yours and his hand rests on your hip you smile into the kiss. As you pull back you swell with happiness seeing a rosy tint to Zemo’s cheeks.

“I suppose turning up to to a ball on the arm of a Baron has its perks”

Zemo laughs and pulls you into a side hug placing a kiss on your temple.

“What would I do without you” he hums to himself as he admires you “My moon”

Everything made sense, everything fit. You couldn’t imagine a life any different till it happened.

You and Zemo had been away visiting a local country when you heard of the news. You collapsed on the floor screaming at the tv as Zemo was on the phone already organizing a trip back home. When you arrived your heart broke seeing all the destruction. Zemo was holding your hand but he let go. It was all gone. Everything. Your whole life had changed just like that.

You wipe the tears away from your cheeks yet they continue to flow as you remembered what happened after. The madness and desire for revenge had consumed Zemo. You tried to stop him. You really did but what could you have done?

“Helmut, please. This isn’t healthy...this...this isn’t you!” you cried as Zemo was preparing his attack on the avengers

“Y/n I have to do this. There is no other way” he angrily replied, refusing to look at you.

“I can’t support this” you whisper, grabbing a hold of his arm. “I can’t watch you do this”

Zemo looks at you, his face forlorn as he watches the tears fall from your eyes. He pulls you to his chest wrapping his arm around you and kisses the top of your head, stroking your hair. “I’m not asking you to moon”

You leave the warmth of his arms and watch as he grabs his bags and walks out of your room, giving you one last glimpse of goodbye before he walks out of your life.

That was the last time you saw him in person. The next time it was on the news as he was being arrested. In the end, his plan had succeeded. He split up the avengers but then what? It didn’t bring anyone back. Sokovia was still dead and you were left behind while he was locked up for life.

You close your eyes, squeezing out the remains of your tears, preparing to leave this cliff looking over your deserted town when you hear the sound of a click. You let in a sharp breath of recognition. Slowly turning around your eyes adjust to the barrow of a gun and the person standing behind it.

Zemo.

He still looked the same as you remembered. Though if you stared closely you could see lines showing his age starting to appear, the bags under his eyes were bigger than what they once were however after all this time it was still him. He even wore that ridiculously over-the-top coat that you always stole from him.

His eyes however were different, when you always looked into them in the past they seemed warm, like the feeling of drinking hot chocolate. You could melt in them but now they were stone cold. Emotionless. Like he wasn’t even there.

“Zemo…” you breathed out focusing on him

“I planned to eliminate all superheroes” he states

You shake your head at him, “Zemo please”

“I’ve almost completed my plan to rid the world of superheroes, of ‘super soldiers’”

“Please let me explain,” you say starting to take a step forward to him but he quickly raises his other hand grasping the gun, holding it in both hands now and pointing it at you making you stop in your tracks.

“How could you,” he spits, his lips drawing back in a snarl “How could you become one of them!”

“I had no choice” You rasp, tears starting to flow from your eyes again, “I would have died otherwise”

“THEN YOU SHOULD HAVE DIED THAN TAKEN IT” Zemo shouts

The colour drains from your face, your eyes widen in shock staring at him. His jaw tightens as he glares at you. You both stand there in silence taking in what he had said.

Wiping the side of your tear-stained cheek you smile sadly at him, sniffing, you step forward again resting your forehead against the gun.

“Okay” you simply say, your throat feeling like sandpaper as you utter those words

Zemo glares at you, his finger resting on the trigger. The gun starts to shake as he clenches his face in anger.

“DAM IT” he shouts, throwing the gun to the side. His hands grab onto your shoulders roughly, causing you to hiss in pain.

“Why are you doing this to me y/n. How could you do this to me” He snaps.

You were too shocked to reply to him, causing him to get even angrier. His eyes swarmed with tears and when one threatened to fall he pushed you back and turned away so you wouldn’t see.

You shakily let out a breath you were holding in and collapsed onto your knees. Your heart was beating rapidly against your chest and you clenched the sides of your body with your arms in comfort.

Zemo turns back around to you, hatred in his eyes. “I’ve come so far, killing so many just to be stopped here”

“Because you refuse to kill the woman you love” you implored in hope but he shakes his head, “No. Not that”

“Yes, yes that Zemo!” you say shakily getting back up off the ground. “Zemo I still love you though by gods I shouldn’t. We made a promise to each other” you affirmed holding up the chain around your neck, “We were forever Zemo”

Zemo’s finger brushed up against the chain that had been hanging around his neck for the past seven years. They wrap around the chain and in one swift motion, he pulls it off his neck, breaking the chain and throwing it to the ground.

You stare at the broken chain on the floor, your heart dropping. In just one notion it was like all those moments you two spent together were worth nothing. It had led to nothing.

Zemo grabs ahold of your chain and pulls you closer to him, “The truth is, my darling moon, that you don’t love me either”

You try to argue back to him but he raises his finger to your lips, “ah”

“You want to know how I know?”

You don’t say anything, staring at him confused, he leans towards you and automatically you close your eyes however he instead he puts his lips to your ears,

“You’ve been calling me Zemo instead of Helmut”

He lets go of the chain, pushing you away from him again, the force knocking you to the ground.

You think back over your conversation. He was right. When had you started referring him to his last name rather than his first name? You had always called him by his first name before.

You look back up to him, your eyes watering and noticing the tears starting to fall from his eyes.

“I spent years in that prison imaging what it would be like to finally get out. To hold you in my arms once again. To have what we once had. It was the only thing that kept me going in there. You can’t even begin to imagine the pain I felt when I found out the truth. The pain of your betrayal. I hated you. I...I” his voice cracked as he started to cry more

He keeps trying to stop letting out a sob yet his mouth can’t help but frown and his face contorted. “I thought I could stop the pain by getting rid of you but I can’t. Even though I can’t stand looking at you I can’t kill you”

He swallows and looks away from you to the chain on the ground, “I don’t want to ever see you again.”

You could have said something then. Called out to him. Spoke sense to him. He might have even listened but you didn’t. You didn’t say anything. You didn’t try to stop him. You couldn’t even look him in the eyes.

He turns his back and starts to walk away but stops for a moment, turning his head slightly.

“Goodbye y/n”

#zemo #zemo x reader #zemo imagine #i love zemo #zemo x y/n #tfatws #marvel #mcu #daniel brühl #baron zemo #helmut zemo #zemo x you #angst #Zemo angst

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cheelduh · 3 years

Text

The Shackles of Duty

Pairing: Diluc x gn!reader

Synopsis: As a weapon of the Abyss, your obligation towards your Princess should be eternal.

Warnings: Unedited angst. Pls ignore any mistakes besties <3

Word count: 2k

You've never really given the weather any thought. It's not as if it matters to you. Stormy day or not, your responsibilities—no, your duty towards the Abyss will remain the same.

It's still raining. The mud thick underneath your boots, slippery against your heel, the putrid smell of grassy dew lingering miserably against the air.

"You know what you have to do." The Abyss Princess commands you, her loyal servant, hers to dispose if she so desires.

"The dragon...Stormterror." You explain, goosebumps forming on your skin as a result of the damp clothes that adorn your wet body. "Your brother, the honorary night, along with others, thwarted our plans by eliminating the fragments."

"Why?"

"You know why, your grace." Is all that you can give to her. "I shall follow him. Keep him away, from inciting another encounter—"

"No," Lumine declares, no room for argument. "Infiltrating their ranks is no easy task. You mustn't be relieved of your post, not yet at least. We need to extract as much information as possible to further avoid outcomes like these."

Exactly the answer you don't want to hear in the middle of this archon forsaken storm, all bruised and bumped up from Stormterror's confrontation.

Don't make me do this again. I don't know how much more I'll be able to take.

You bite your tongue, knowing full well the finality of her words. "As you wish, my princess."

The familiar redhead suddenly plagues your mind, stoic, and with years worth of anger at the world. The hero in the shadows, the man with an agonizing past, a sense of retribution albeit his severed connections with the knights of favonious.

Despite the obstacles of life and the intellect honed from his journey, he's reckless. Reckless enough to still believe that he can make a difference. That anyone can make a difference.

Diluc is reckless enough to love someone, reckless to think that his sworn brother would be the only one capable of betraying him.

—

"There's no point." Diluc whispers loud enough for you to hear him underneath the stars, adding onto the lull of night. "They all keep walking—no, running, aimlessly because of duty. They follow orders without knowing where they come from. It's utter chaos."

"But in all the chaos, there is calculation." You lean against the stone of the walls, and as always, you know how to speak to Diluc. How to open him up and read him like a book.

You're sure he can do the same with you, but he just isn't looking where he should be. You need him to look; to realize he's tangled up in your web of deceit and that there's no way out.

"How do you do that?" He says, aware all at once. "How do you give me so much yet so little?"

I want to give you everything, the pretty and the ugly things alike. I want to give you my secrets, fold them up in a dirty, black, envelope, and have you turn it to ash with the violent flames of your heart.

It's a lot of work hiding under false pretences.

"It's a beautiful night, my love." You say instead.

Diluc's never gotten used to the term of endearment, still new to receiving affection. It warms him up differently to his vision, pleasant yet unfamiliar. It takes a moment for him to come back to himself.

You briefly jolt at the pleasant warmth of his hand atop yours, a silent reassurance, one that worsens your guilt, weaves it into something that pierces your rotten core.

—

You don't know what you're thinking when you stand in front of Jean's office, fist hovering.

Is forgiveness why you're here? No, because you would've went to Diluc first. You would've confessed to him right then and there about what a vengeful weapon you are, a mindless soldier that will do anything for their queen.

You don't even get a chance to think of the various ways he'd kill you when the door is open, and you're met with the view of the acting Grandmaster herself. Another dear friend that will come to despise you.

"Y/N! I'm glad you're here—"

"I'm a servant of the Abyss." You cut her off, and don't stop yourself, letting the words run freely against the fast pace of your heart. "I've infiltrated Mondstadt under the orders of the abyss princess and used what I've learned to conspire against the archons."

Everything's spinning, so fast you can barely breathe.

Jean doesn't move, doesn't even blink as the confusion dawns on her face. You aren't looking for confusion.

"Don't pretend you're blindsided completely," You give her a humourless chuckle, and by the hush of your tone it's as if you're telling her a secret to any spectators. "You've known for a while now that there's been a traitor within your ranks. Every single attack from the Abyss—too clean, too unpredictable, one could say with coincidence."

"But the universe is rarely so lazy." Your voice is smooth, calm, the complete opposite to the flurries of emotions that bloom your being. "Varka knew that. And so do you."

"No," Jean finally speaks up, denying your claim incandescently. "We've fought together for years. You're one of our best, our most dependable. Everything we've done—everything you've done has been for Mondstadt. As always."

If only that were the truth.

You wave a hand over your right eye, releasing the magical bind to reveal the intricate marker. Jean's eyes widen, and she's far from her usual composed self.

"Still don't believe me?" You ask, knowing full well she's still in denial. It's not everyday your best mate, the one that fights alongside you, admits to being a traitorous scum of the abyss drenched in years worth of lies.

Ah the trials and tribulations of friendship.

"Fine then," With the flick of your wrist, it doesn't take much effort for the main doors to open up with a bang.

The acting grand master draws back at the shrill sound, teeth gritting.

She isn't the only one that's provoked. Wood and Wyratt, the only two guards on duty at this time let out shouts of surprise, reaching for their swords on instinct.

You summon your abysmal magic, which shapes into deep blue, if not black, appendages. They glitter, hiding the entire galaxy in them, with stars that burst into life. Breathtaking if not used on the battlefield.

In mere seconds, one latches on to Wyratt's leg, while the other takes Wood by his arm. All it takes is a jerk of your index finger, and they're sent flying outside the doors, which unceremoniously slam shut behind them. The lock clicks into place, cherry on top.

Jean materializes her sword, taking on a defensive position. You don't think you've ever seen the woman irritated, let alone as livid as she is right now.

That's more like it.

"Go on. Arrest me." You bring your wrists up, casual as ever. "We'd better hurry. They'll come after me soon enough, it's in your best interest to listen to everything I have to say if I'm willing to die over it." There's a tightness in your chest that you can't explain.

Jean hardens her gaze, not allowing herself to relax. You know what she's going to say. You've been her friend, her advisor, long enough to understand where most of her actions and decision stem from.

She says—well she says nothing, because she doesn't get a chance to when an abrupt screech erupts from her office, causing your ears to perk up and your blood to run cold. A series of heavy footsteps, footsteps you're all too familiar with follow.

Although you're fairly certain you know who it is, you glance over her shoulder anyways to meet the fiery red eyes that have reserved a place in your heart. The sole reason you're blowing the whistle.

You feel a sharp pang in your heart.

The pure, authentic, hurt in Diluc's hardened features are enough to have you gutted completely. Mouth dry with a rock in your throat, you don't so much as allow yourself to exhale.

You finally understand why you didn't go to him first. You were sure he'd be able to survive the betrayal, but you weren't sure you'd be able to survive it yourself.

Diluc. You want to tell him, tell him how sorry you are. Tell him how much of a piece of shit you are. Tell him that he doesn't deserve this, that he deserves so much better. Tell him that you love him, devastatingly so.

It isn't supposed to end this way. Things never go as planned.

You avert your gaze, clench your jaw shut, and wait.

"Jean." Diluc says, and there's grim finality in his voice. "We need a moment." His words send small pricks throughout your spine.

Jean regains her composure, mulling over his request, but any resistance is placated by a simple look from the redhead.

When she reluctantly leaves, the quiet is near unendurable.

"Why?" If the way Diluc's fixed gaze could set anything on fire, you would've been burned to the stake by now.

You'd calculated this moment countless of times, predicted exactly how this would go, lived through every outturn in the dead of the night as you struggled to find sleep in his arms.

Living through it is far more dreadful than you could've ever imagined it to be.

His body closes in at your lack of reply, hands gripping your forearm to pull you in and kick the door shut. "Why?" This time it's more firm.

You open your mouth to speak, like a fish out of water, and out comes nothing.

"I trusted you," Diluc says weakly, in a way that has your heart shattering a million times a second. Tightening his hold on your arm, he continues "You were the only one I...I should've known. I was foolish to think I could believe in you." a sharp exhale, and he pushes you back against the door, but it's not harsh at all. He's gentle, and somehow that makes everything so much more worse.

Your inability to reply sparks a different kind of rage in his heart.

"It must have been quite the show, watching everyone run in circles." He seethes, furious, wounded. "Was it all just a lie? Were my feelings ever returned? Or was I just another one of your fair games?"

You wrench away from his hold as if it's burning you. The words are like needles, pinning into you with so much force it has you lurching in place, and then they twist deep within your blackened veins.

"Stop it." You should've just left. Should've just pushed back the nagging in your brain and jumped off a cliff or a something. Surely the unexpected death of a royal guard—no, the death of a fundamental piece in their plan would surely be enough to cripple them for at least a few days, if not weeks.

Anything but this.

You meet his gaze. "I do love you Diluc, that I am sure of. You don't have to believe me. I know I wouldn't."

"Is that all you have to say?" He all but hisses, gloved fingers closing in to form a fist. "You've betrayed everyone. Your friends, your family...me."

"You think I don't know that?" Your voice breaks when you look away. "I don't know what's right anymore, what's wrong. I don't even know what I've been fighting for this entire time." A sharp, mirthless laugh escapes your lips, "To allow myself to carry out orders I do not believe in is too much to bear. How long do I delude myself into thinking that this is all for Khaenri'ah? That this is all for a reason that is beyond me?"

There's a sliver of softness that shows in his features, but you're too busy calming the waves crashing in your head.

"Whatever it is, it doesn't matter anymore." You say, the sinking of your chest only expanding. "I've already contravened against the abyss, and for that they will come for me. The only thing I regret is that they couldn't get to me before you did."

A stricken look passes across his face, brows furrowed and desperation as clear as day when he reaches for you.

This time, you let his arms curl around your shaking figure, welcoming the comfort that you're undeserving of. "I won't let them."

"I'm sorry." You whisper shakily, fisting the fronts of his coat. "I'm so sorry Diluc."

Diluc hums as he strokes your hair soothingly, with the utmost of care. Although his trust in you has shattered, like irreplaceable fragments of glass, his love for you will remain constant.

Even with the storm that is fated to come.

#genshin impact #genshin impact oneshot #jean gunnhildr #diluc ragnvindr #master diluc #diluc x reader #diluc x y/n #genshin fanfic #diluc angst #genshin diluc #lumine #lumine genshin impact

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granolabird · 3 years

Text

Figuring it Out

I’m extremely worried about next weeks episode, but I’ve got this weeks after-episode Hournite fic to distract everyone from that worry just a little bit. Takes place just before the end of 2x07. Rick and Beth have just recieved the news of Yolanda leaving the team and they have to process it.

Warnings: None! Just some sad little teenage superheroes.

Tagging @hournites and @blackfemmecharacterdependency (If you’d like to join the tag list feel free to ask! I post a new fic every Tuesday)

They’re sitting in Beth’s living room. Her parents are out again, and Beth is curled in the arm chair, not saying a word. Rick sits on the sofa, awkwardly twiddling his thumbs like he does whenever he isn’t quite sure what to say. Courtney had just called with the news that Yolanda had quit the team. Neither Beth nor Rick have said anything since Courtney broke the news. Instead they just sit in awkward silence, Ghostbusters playing on the Tv completely unnoticed. Rick had recommended another movie night to keep Beth’s mind off of things. He was not expecting everything to go this far off the rails.

Finally, Beth gets up, clicking off the Tv before turning to Rick.

“You should go.” She has tears in her eyes and she can’t quite make eye contact.

“What? Why? We were just getting to the good part, with the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man!” He’s trying to keep the tone light, it’s entirely the wrong thing to say but he doesn’t know what else to say.

“Don’t do that. Don’t act like there’s nothing wrong, Rick. Yolanda is off the team. She quit. She quit and it’s my fault.” Beth hasn’t moved from where she stands but her head has dropped.

“Beth-”

“No Rick. You can’t talk me out of this one. You know I’m right.”

He does. Well, not entirely. There were a lot of contributing factors to Yolanda leaving, Beth being unable to comfort her was just one small gear in a much larger machine. Right?

“You spoke what you felt. You stuck to your morals. You wouldn’t kill Brainwave, even if you said you would’ve I think we all know you wouldn’t have. That’s okay.” Rick keeps his tone soft.

“It’s not okay. It’s completely, entirely, not okay. Yolanda quit the team because I couldn’t tell a stupid lie. I shouldn’t have said anything. I shouldn’t…” At this point Beth starts to cry fully, and she slowly sinks to the floor, sobs wracking her entire form.

Rick gets up now and makes his way over to where Beth is kneeling on the floor. Slowly, carefully, almost as if he’s trying not to spook an injured animal, he crouches in front of her and then wraps her in a hug. He doesn’t say anything, really he doesn’t know what he could say to fix this. He doesn’t think there’s anything that could fix this. So he just holds her, and she sobs into his shirt. It takes everything he has not to cry along with her.

After a few minutes, Beth leans back. Rick looks down, eyes running over her tear stained face as he tries to formulate words, but he keeps falling short.

“I’m sorry.” Is all he can utter, and by Beth’s immediate recoil he knows it was the wrong thing to say.

“What do you mean?”

“You have no reason to be sorry Rick, this isn’t your fault.”

“No, but I put pressure on you back there. When Yolanda first admitted to killing Brainwave. I asked your opinion-”

“If you didn’t ask, someone else would’ve Rick. Honestly I’m glad it was you that asked. If Courtney or Yolanda had, I think things would’ve gone even worse.”

“I mean, if I gave the answer I did, and they asked... I don’t know. I just. I don’t know.”

Beth isn’t even sure what she’s saying at this point, so overwhelmed by guilt and uncertainty and-

Rick is hugging her again.

He’s pulled her close, and just keeps holding her. She can tell by his heavy breathing that he’s really trying not to cry. Beth feels like that’s her fault too, which makes her feel even worse. She should feel embarrassed, or excited that he’s holding her so close, or really anything else than the soul-crushing guilt that she’s feeling right now. But that’s all that she has. She is completely consumed by it, and she doesn’t know what to do.

“I’m proud of you.” Rick’s head is resting atop Beth’s and she feels his chest rumble as he speaks.

“What?”

“I’m proud of you, Beth.”

She pulls away from him again, and looks up at him through tear-blurred eyes.

“I feel like you should be feeling the exact opposite of that right now.”

“No, I don’t think any of us made the situation better. I don’t think there was anything we could’ve said that would’ve made that situation better, really.”

“No. You told Yolanda the truth. You told her exactly how you felt, and didn’t sugar coat it. I tried to make it seem like I would’ve done the same thing, tried to spare her the guilt, and I think that hurt her more. She knew I wouldn’t have killed Brainwave. But I tried to convince her I would’ve to try and make her feel better. I think it just made her feel worse.” He runs one hand through his hair, keeping his other hand on Beth’s back.

“I don’t think what I said made her feel any better.” Beth manages a sarcastic laugh, and Rick half smiles, shaking his head.

“I guess.”

There’s a pause in the conversation and Beth takes that as an opportunity to let her mind wander. She sits, thinking of all the different ways that conversation with Yolanda could’ve gone. All the things she could’ve said. She tries to make the outcome good. She tries to imagine lying to Yolanda, backing up Rick that yeah, anyone would’ve killed Brainwave in that situation. Yet she can still see the guilt and betrayal in Yolanda’s eyes, the knowledge that Beth wouldn’t really do that. And Rick is right, seeing that look, even if it’s imagined, somehow hurts more. With a shaky sigh Beth leans forward, placing her forehead against Rick’s chest, resigning to her fate.

“I hate this.” She says quietly, trying to hold back more tears.

Rick has both his arms around Beth again, and he’s staring off into the distance at who-knows-what.

“Yeah, I know. I hate this too.”

“What do we do?”

“We just keep going. When Yolanda feels comfortable, she’ll come back to us. Until then, I guess we'll wait.”

“I hate waiting.”

“You’re doing a lot of hating tonight Beth, that isn’t like you.” It’s half a joke, half a genuine concern on Rick’s behalf.

“I feel like it’s warranted. There’s a lot to be upset about.”

Rick just gives a small chuckle and nods slowly, though Beth can’t see him, her head still leaning against his chest.

“So, uh, do you want to finish Ghostbusters?” Rick offers awkwardly after a while of silence.

“I’ll be fine, Beth. We can keep watching the movie.”

Beth slowly pulls back and shakes her head.

“It’s getting late. I don’t want you to drive home in the dark and get hurt. I don’t think I could deal with that.” It’s the honest truth. She’s at her wits end.

“No, no it’s alright. I should probably go to bed early anyway, I don’t think I’ll be getting much sleep after all of this.” Beth gets up, letting Rick's hands slide from her back as she moves to clean up a half-empty bowl of popcorn from the table.

Rick accepts that Beth wants to be alone, and so he helps her clean up, moving cups and bowls into the kitchen alongside her in silence.

Finally, when everything is put away, Rick grabs his jacket and heads for the door. Beth follows him, her footsteps wobbly and unsure.

“Right, I’ll talk to you tomorrow, okay.” Rick is scanning Beth’s face again.

He knows he does that too often but he can’t help himself. He always wants to know what she’s thinking inside that beautiful brain of hers. He wants to be able to see all her worries and whisk them away in an instant. Unfortunately he’s not that talented.

“Alright.” Beth crosses her arms and rubs them idly as she steadies her breathing.

“If something is wrong, or you can’t sleep, or your parents start fighting again, or anything, you can call me. I’ll be home, so I’ll answer right away. I promise.”

“Okay. Thanks, Rick.”

Rick simply smiles in response.

“You’re sure you’ll be alright?” He has to ask one more time, just in case.

“Yeah. I’ll be fine, I just need to sleep. We can figure out what to do next in the morning.”

Rick nods slowly. He wants to say something more, something that would fix all of this but he can’t, so he just keeps nodding.

“See you tomorrow, Beth.”

“Yeah, I’ll see you tomorrow.” She can’t bring herself to make eye contact, and that is enough to almost rip Rick’s heart in two.

He manages to keep his composure, though. It’s only when he’s down Beth’s driveway in the safety of his car that he lets himself break. Lets himself lean against the steering wheel and cry. He doesn’t cry very often, but this is all too much at once. Rick feels like he’s being torn apart. Between Yolanda leaving the team, trying to figure out what to do with Grundy, trying to help Beth with her parents divorce, as well as trying to comprehend his feelings for Beth, it’s just all too much. It’s too much and it’s eating him alive. He manages to calm himself enough to drive, and slowly he backs his way out of the driveway. As he goes, he sees the silhouette of Beth in her bedroom window. He half wonders if she’s watching him go. He hopes she is.

Beth watches Rick’s car drive away, her eyes tracking it’s bright yellow paint until it goes around a bend and she can’t see it anymore. She presses her forehead to the window, and it feels so cold and uninviting. She finds herself wishing it was Rick’s chest again. It wasn’t much, but he had made her feel at least a little better. She half wishes she had asked him to stay. She would’ve felt a lot safer if he were still around. She ignores that thought as well as the strange sense of dread that threatens to overwhelm her. Instead she gets ready and tucks herself into bed. In Beth’s mind, she replays all the scenarios of her confrontation with Yolanda until she finally sinks into a fitful sleep.

In the morning she’ll call Rick and they’ll figure things out. They always do.

#I really am worried about next weeks episode #How am I gonna write a feel better fic if there's nothing to feel better about-#i'll figure something out #Hournite #Stargirl #Beth Chapel #Rick Tyler #beth x rick #Hourman #dr. mid nite

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lena-in-a-red-dress · 3 years

Text

Notting Hill AU Snippet #8

"It happened. Feel it, and let it go."

Her therapist's words are easier said than done. Lena does her best, she really does, but every time she almost feels over Kara Danvers, she sees a film trailer or a tabloid headline and her world spirals again.

It's silly. Lena knows she shouldn't be so affected. She only knew Kara Danvers for a few days across a few weeks, but then again... as her therapist likes to say: Lena never learned how to love half way.

When news of a nude photo scandal breaks, Lena finds out about it with the rest of the world, but instead of watching in sick fascination, Lena feels only horror for the woman behind it all. Her heart, broken though it is, goes out to Kara, and the devastation she must be going through. Because Lena more than anyone else knows how carefully crafted Kara's image is, how carefully precise every word and movement is lest she lose the love of the audience and the industry itself.

But as much as Lena might want to, she doesn't call. She doesn't write. She doesn't even know if Kara is in Britain at all, until one morning there's a knock on her front door.

There, with an overnight bag, is Kara.

Her eyes are hidden behind large sunglasses, and her arms are crossed over her chest, tight with anxiety. Before Lena can think to do anything otherwise, she wordlessly steps aside to invite Kara into her flat.

"Thank you," Kara murmurs. Her voice quivers, her jaw clenched against brimming tears. Lena briefly scans the street outside before closing the door, relieved to find it empty of press.

They slowly migrate to the kitchen, where Kara pauses, uncertain of what to do next.

"Tea?" Lena offers.

Kara nods faintly. Over tea, the situation Lena had avoided reading about about in the tabloids comes spilling out as Kara vents, finally able to explain to someone-- anyone-- who would listen.

"I was young, and I was angry, and... and you want to know the saddest part? I enjoyed that shoot! It was one of the healthiest, most open working environments I'd ever been in. The level of trust, and respect... god-- they talked to me like a person, and I just-- for the first time, it felt like I had complete agency. Except I didn't, because they also filmed it, which they didn't tell me, and now... now my entire career, the only thing I've ever done in my entire life, might be over."

Lena listens to it all. She can't offer anything more than that. She doesn't know what to say, even if she could speak under the weight of being in Kara's presence again. Kara fills the entire room, even dressed down in jeans and a trim sweater.

The hurt of their last parting feels a million miles away for the first time since it happened, and all Lena wants to do is kiss her.

"What does your boyfriend think?" Lena blurts softly.

Kara blinks, staring at her. "I don't know," she confesses silently. "I haven't heard from him since before... I don't even know if I have a boyfriend anymore. I didn't even really know I had one then, until he showed up in my hotel room."

She pauses, finally meeting Lena's. "I am so sorry for what happened. I wanted to call so many times, I just-- I just didn't know what to say. And now-- now I'm invading your home like--"

"It's okay," Lena assures her, heading her off at the pass. She rises, taking Kara's hands in hers and offering a reassuring squeeze. "I'm glad you're here, and that you're safe."

Blinking away tears, Kara nods, sniffling.

"What do you need?" Lena asks. "Food, nap, bath...?"

"A bath sounds... really nice right now. And food. And a nap. Maybe in that order?"

Lena smiles. "Okay. We can do that."

---

After Kara's bath, they chat quietly over Notting Hill's finest fish and chips. It feels like no time has passed at all, like they didn't ever part that night at the hotel. Lena revels in it, and in the fact that Kara's nap is taken resting against her shoulder as Lena reads on the couch.

Her therapist would be so disappointed in her.

There's no boundary Lena could throw between them that Kara isn't already well past, and Lena finds she simply doesn't want to. As dangerous as she knows it is, she enjoys their time together. She's addicted to it, like a moth to flame.

The first night, Lena gives Kara her bed, and sleeps on the couch. The second night, after a day filled with running lines for Kara's next project, Lena's awoken from a light doze by a creak on the stair. Despite having a flatmate, Lena instinctively knows it's not Querl, and meets Kara at the foot of the stair.

"Is everything all right?" she asks.

In the dark, Kara nods, a dark shape bobbing in the shadows. "Yes, I-- I just wanted to say thank you. For everything you've done for me. I know you have no reason to help--"

Lena leans in and kisses her. Before her brain can catch up, Kara is kissing her back, burying her hands in Lena's tangled hair before slipping down to brush the edge of Lena's breast through the fabric of her tank top.

Lena covers the exploring hand, pressing it in place against her chest before it could go any further.

"Do you want this?" is all she asks.

Kara nods again, this time their noses brushing at the tips. "Yes," she breathes. "I want you."

----

Waking up in the morning, Lena feels as though she's still dreaming. Her body aches pleasantly, and today the sunlight streaming through her windows falls softly on the figure fast asleep beside her.

Kara Danvers' features are soft in sleep, unschooled for the first time Lena's ever seen. She looks younger, and impossibly more beautiful-- until Kara shifts, and wakes with a smile that puts Lena's previous observations to shame.

"Hi," Kara whispers.

"Hi," Lena whispers back. "Sweet dreams?"

"Mmmmmm," Kara hums, rolling to face her. "Remind me."

Lena obliges with a kiss, ignoring the sour taste of morning breath. Her hand cups Kara's jaw, her thumb brushing lightly against a soft cheek.

Before long, they're interrupted by a low growl in Kara's belly, prompting Lena to laugh against Kara's lips.

"Message received. Stay here," she urges, slipping out of bed.

She pulls on a pair of boxers and her tank top from the night before, wrinkled from being tossed unceremoniously across the room, before heading downstairs to make breakfast.

Lena barely has the bread in the toaster before warm arms encircle her waist from behind. Soft lips press against the join of Lena's neck, blonde hair tickling her skin. She hums low in her throat.

"I like that," she says. She leans her head against Kara's. "Butter and jam's in the fridge."

Kara grins against her and parts with another kiss, finding her way around Lena's kitchen as though she's always been there. Lena takes in the sight of Kara in one of her old oversized sweaters, barely enough to keep her decent. It's a pleasant sight, Kara's ease. Lena wants it to stick around forever.

Their peace is interrupted a moment later when the doorbell rings.

"I've got it," Lena says. "You stay here and butter the toast."

She hops down the narrow steps to the front hall, and opens the door without a second thought as to who could be behind it.

A barrage of camera shutters clicking and the bright flash of dozens of cameras going off at once stuns her. Blinded, she can barely make out the sea of paparazzi, and the questions she barely hears through the buzz of utter noise.

In the next moment, Lena regains her senses and slams the door shut. The heavy old door does well to muffle the sound, so that when Kara comes traipsing down the steps behind her she doesn't notice the hubbub.

"What is it?"

Before Lena can stop her, a shout on her lips, Kara opens the door and faces the sea of cameras with nothing but a piece of toast in her hand and an old sweater between them.

Kara reacts faster than Lena did, instantly whirling and shutting the door behind her. In that moment, Kara's ease disappears. Her body stiffens and her skin heats with flush of shame.

"They... you..." Kara stammers. She looks at Lena, then glares at her. "You told them I was here?!"

"What? Why would I do that?"

"Well, if it wasn't you, it was that weirdo of a roommate!" Kara exclaims, voice climbing in pitch and volume. "Finally decided to make a quick buck by giving a tip to the tabloids!"

"That's uncalled for," Lena counters. Querl is odd, but he'd only ever been kind to Kara, in his own strange way. "Let's just... let's just breathe for a second--"

"You breathe. I'm leaving."

Without another word, Kara disappears back into the kitchen. After an urgent call to whom Lena can only guess is her publicist, Kara disappears towards the bedroom. Lena gives her space, lingering in the living room long enough for Kara to catch her breath. By the time she finally pokes her head into the bedroom, Kara is already dressed and throwing her items into her overnight bag.

"Kara..."

"Don't. Don't say my name like you know how I feel."

Lena swallows thickly. "I don't... I don't know what to say. I'm sorry they're here, but I'm not sorry you are."

"Well, I am," Kara snaps, snatching her top from the night before and slamming it into her bag. "I never should have come here. I have a boyfriend for Christ's sake!"

Lena freezes, her blood running cold. "You do?"

"As far as they're concerned I do! And now pictures of us are going to be on every paper from here to Star City!!"

Kara lugs her bag over her shoulder and storms out of the room. "And your friend, your friend owes you a nice dinner. Lobster at least, if he's smart enough to get the going rate on betrayal."

"You leave Querl out of this!" Lena snaps, her temper fraying as she chases after Kara. "Okay? I understand that you're upset, and I am too, but we don't know that he has anything to do with this!"

Kara rounds on her with fury in her eyes. "All I know is that they didn't follow me here, and we didn't go anywhere. So if wasn't me, and it wasn't him, who was it? Hm?"

Angry tears burn at the backs of Lena's eyes. She blinks them away, and struggles breathe past the lump in her throat.

"It's okay, Lena," Kara continues firing, "I get it. Okay? It's natural to want your name out there, to drum up business. Come, get a boring book about Egypt from the chick who fucked Kara Danvers!"

The accusation drives all the breath from Lena's body. She stares, and sees the moment Kara realizes she's crossed a line. She softens then, but not enough.

"You may only get fifteen minutes of this, Lena, but I have had this my entire life. These pictures will last forever. They will follow me FOREVER, and I will regret this forever!"

The doorbell rings, cleaving through the moment of Lena's heartbreak. Surprisingly, Kara doesn't immediately leave, her shock at her own words evident in the gape of her mouth and the tears in her eyes.

Finally, Lena looks away, clearing her throat.

"You don't want to keep your team waiting," she grinds out, her voice full of gravel. It hurts to speak, to breathe, to even look at Kara. But watch she does as Kara's mouth closes to a resolute line before she turns and leaves without looking back.

previous / next

#supercorp #notting hill au #wall of text

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espresso-kitty · 3 years

Text

They’re Lying to You- Lokius Drabble

After Loki and Sylvie are rescued from Lamentis, Loki finds a way to tell Mobius the truth about the TVA

Word Count: 1281

——————————————————————————

Loki stared wide-eyed at the portal that had just opened up in front of him and Sylvie. He had finally accepted his death here on Lamentis, but apparently fate had other plans for him.

Standing up as the ground continued to rumble beneath his feet, Loki looked at Sylvie one last time, gave a small nod of his head, and walked through the portal. His vision was blinded for a moment, but when his eyes adjusted, he was greeted with a familiar moustached face.

“Mobius,” Loki breathed, relief washing through him, but it was short lived. He could see the disappointment in Mobius’ eyes. Throughout his life, Loki had seen that face many times; the face of utter disappointment. He’d seen it from Odin, Frigga and even Thor too many times to count. No matter how much he thought it should affect him, he always brushed it off. He knew he could never spend too long dwelling on it, he was the God of Mischief after all.

But something about Mobius’ disappointment in him cut Loki deeper than he thought it could. Perhaps he thought Mobius should be proud of him, it was his idea about the apocalypses that led to them finding the Variant, and if Loki had never followed her into the portal, she wouldn’t have been brought into the TVA with him just now. But no matter how much Loki tried to justify it to himself, he knew Mobius wouldn’t see it that way.

Loki felt a clamp around his neck, accompanied with a soft click. His hand moved up to touch the collar around his neck, and he looked at Mobius incredulously.

“What’s this for?” Loki shot out spitefully, tugging at the collar slightly with his fingers.

Mobius shook his head as he let out a sigh. “I can’t trust you Loki, so now I need to take the appropriate measures.”

Loki’s brows furrowed as his mouth opened slightly in shock, and a moment later, he felt someone gripping each of his arms. He pulled against the guards as much as he could, but they held him in place.

“C’mon.” Mobius gestured with his hand for the guards to follow him, towing Loki along with them.

Loki was faintly aware of a group of guards escorting Sylvie away led by hunter B-15, but his mind was racing too fast to even give her another look. Mobius’ words kept echoing in Loki’s head; I can’t trust you. Mobius doesn’t trust me. The man that had trusted Loki enough to lead him into not one, but two apocalypses, now didn’t trust him enough to not even have the collar on him.

Loki was roughly thrown into the interrogation room Mobius had walked into, and the guards slammed the door, leaving the two alone.

Loki glared at the door that had closed behind him and agitatedly ran a hand over his forehead. He could feel Mobius’ gaze on him, but Loki didn’t have the heart to even turn to face him. All he could imagine was the disappointment on his face, his eyes darkened by the betrayal he felt.

Mobius sighed from the table he was sitting at. “Loki…would you please sit down. There’s a few things to discuss.”

“Like what?” Loki whipped around, glaring at the agent and trying not to focus on the hurt in his eyes. “Like how you’ve chained me up like some street mongrel because you’ve lost all faith in me?”

“Like how you betrayed me, Loki!” Mobius shot back, standing up from his seat. “How you left me in some store being torn apart by a hurricane to run after a version of yourself to do god knows what!” Mobius’ hands were gripping the edge of the table, turning his knuckles white.

Loki stood completely still, having no idea how to respond to Mobius’ outburst; every word of what he had said was true, and Loki knew it. He had abandoned the closest thing to a friend he had with the other time agents in an apocalypse.

The time agents…

Loki sighed, and silently walked over to the table and sat down. Mobius remained leaning against the table, glowering at him.

“Fine,” Loki conceded. “I did leave you there, but wasn’t capturing Sylvie what you wanted to do?”

Mobius looked down at him, confusion mixing with the anger still plastered on his face. “Sylvie?”

“The variant Loki, her name is Sylvie.”

Mobius scoffed as he looked away. Taking a deep breath, he sat down opposite Loki. “So what, you followed her so you could recruit her for your schemes? Or maybe she recruited you.”

“What? No I-”

“You just can’t help yourself can you?” Mobius breathed out. “It’s always about you, your self-preservation, your need to cause chaos.”

Loki could feel the frustration flaring through him. “Mobius no, just let me-”

Mobius jumped back in before Loki could get another word in. “Y’know the TVA was right about you, they knew-”

“The TVA is lying to you, Mobius!”

Mobius stared at Loki blankly. Silence filled the room.

Loki knew Mobius needed to know the truth. “It’s…it’s all a lie.”

Mobius shook his head in disbelief, a small smirk worming its way onto his lips. “You really will say anything to get your way, won’t you?”

Loki let out a frustrated breath. “The TVA, all the Minutemen, it’s all a lie, you have to believe me.”

“Why should I believe you, huh?” Mobius asked. “All you do is lie, you’ve told at least 10 lies since we’ve been here, and I don’t think I can take one more.”

“You’re all variants!” Loki shouted, slamming his hands on the table. “You were kidnapped from the timeline, your memories wiped, and brainwashed. They’re lying to you! But I can give your memories back, I know how to now, Sylvie showed me.”

Mobius looked away from the god, letting out a shuddering breath. Loki could even swear he saw tears lining his eyes.

Mobius stood up slowly, still not looking at Loki. He turned around to leave, his hand going through his grey hair.

He needs to know, I can’t let him keep living a lie.

“Mobius, wait!” Loki flew from his chair and across to Mobius, grabbing his arm to turn him around. “Please just listen to me.”

“Y’know what? No! Everyone thought I was crazy to trust you, the God of mischief, and apparently I was! I was crazy to think you could ever change, that you could ever let you guard down enough to allow someone in, to allow someone to care about you!”

Loki’s heart thumped in his chest as Mobius’ words left his mouth. Did Mobius really care that much about him?

Loki raised his hands to grip Mobius’ shoulder, and tried to focus as much as he could, just like Sylvie had said. Penetrate the mind.

“What are you doing, Loki?” Mobius murmured.

“It’s not working,” Loki said softly to himself. His mind is too strong.

“I don’t have time for this,” Mobius sighed, and moved to leave.

“No!”

Before he could even think, Loki pulled Mobius back to him by his shoulders, closing the gap between them. Their lips met in a brilliant flash of green as Loki allowed Mobius’ mind to open and to remember.

Loki’s hands moved from Mobius’ shoulders to his neck, his hand weaving through the man’s grey hair. Mobius sunk into the kiss happily, wrapping his arms around Loki’s waist and holding him tightly.

Loki realised he could allow someone to care about him. And he cared about that person just as much.

Mobius tenderly pulled away from the kiss, Loki still in his embrace.

“Wow.”

Inspired by this masterpiece drawn by my friend Beth

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fategranddisorder · 3 years

Text

Choco's (Aglovale)

Warnings: none

The peace in Wales is restored after the demand and supply of chocolate was once again met.

Even though the whole adventure with the eldest brother took the whole day, you are happy that everyone could enjoy the Valentine day celebrations. Even if the day is almost over.

The sky is already dark by the time your party and Aglovale arrives back in his castle. You, Vyrn and Lyria lingering just behind the monarch.

"Are you going to give your chocolates to him?" Lyria asks, noticing your quiet demeanour. Both she and Vyrn know you love the holiday, pulling out all the stops to make sure everyone knows how much you love and appreciate them.

But you spend the whole day lying to Aglovale about your actual reason for your visit to Wales.

You click your tongue, you fight gods, demons and angels. Yet to give Aglovale your handmade chocolates terrified you. Especially after seeing the mountain of extravagante gifts the king already received. It made your chocolates seem humble and not good enough for a king.

It is daunting.

And a little demotivating.

When you finally entered the room, Aglovale was already sitting on that big plush red chair of his. His eyes focused on you as the three of you finally stood before the king.

He wasn’t born yesterday. He knew something was off the moment you stepped into the room at the start of the day.

He would never admit it, but he was too kind to call you out. Yet he was curious, so when he managed to steal the object that was causing you so much grief on Chocolea. He just had to mess with you a little, you lied to a king after all.

Your eyes glance at stacks of presents around the chair. Did the mountain grow bigger in the time you all went to the Chocolea island? Your brown twitches and in that moment you make up your mind.

You would say goodbye and find a primal to fight instead. MUCH easier.

"Captain"

You stiffen as soon as Aglovale calls you out and ever so slightly Lyria and Vyrn shift to hide behind you.

"I must thank you for your hard work, you deserve a reward. That is what I like to say but…"

"What you truly deserve is punishment instead."

Vyrn lets out an indignant squeak and Lyria puffs her cheeks.

His eyes shift to your friends behind you. Silencing their protests before speaking again.

"Your charges, of course, are excluded from said punishment. Since you, as captain, are ultimately responsible for them and as such they are dismissed. I will speak to you alone."

Lyria, as observant as ever, see something in Aglovales' strict gaze. So she relaxes and places her hand over mouth to hide her smile.

Before you could say anything the girl had already grabbed the dragon and was already skipping towards the door.

"Thank you King Aglovale" she calls out pleasantly while keeping a struggling Vyrn in check.

"Shhh vyrn, it is alright" She whispers as she walks out the door. "He and Captain need some time alone that's all, I will explain on the way to the ship".

"Please close and lock it" Aglovale calls towards a servant standing at the entrance.

"I would very much like it open so I have a way to escape!" You call out and the servant gives you a deadpanned look.

"I only obey my King"

And with that the door is shut, the click of the lock sounding harsh in your ears.

You had very little time to consider the betrayal of your friends.

"Now captain."

You swallow and turn your gaze away from the door to Aglovale.

"Come closer and I will tell you exactly what your crime is"

You move closer to the man all while keeping your head high.

"I haven’t done anything wrong" you say with conviction.

"Maybe- but you have deceived me. Or perhaps I should say… you have been hiding something from me, have you not?"

You are staring down at the man before you. Yet he still had the upper hand and it annoyed you endlessly.

"I was curious as to why you were being so secretive… but to think you were hiding my own tribute from me."

Aglovale holds up the gift you were planning on giving him and finally stands up.

Drawing himself up to his full height, completely dwarfing you.

You open your mouth to retaliate, to say something, anything would do. But the King was faster, easily gaining the upper hand thanks to your confusion and draws you towards him before swiping your legs from underneath you.

Your back hits the carpeted floor before you could draw another breath. Aglovale hovering over you.

"How did you…?"

You utter out trying, really trying to keep your upstairs brain the main brain and not your downstairs brain.

How easy it would be for you to remove that ribbon holding his hair together and let it flow around you like a gold curtain.

Aglovale sees your hand twitch, the flush on your cheeks and smirks. You are just too precious.

"I managed to procure it while you were all distracted with hunting" He explains, voice just a low timber.

Easily holding himself up on one arm he tugs the ribbon of the box with his teeth before setting the box on the floor and opening it. Finally he is able to taste your work on this tongue.

His eyes never leave yours as he licks the remaining chocolate off his finger.

"You came to Wales in order to give this to me, correct?" Aglovale hums out pinning your form down with both of his arms on either side of you.

You could only nod and the monarch smirks. It is weird and endearing you went out of your way to spare your feelings from his reaction. His thoughts, actions and reactions already filled in by your imagination.

Did you honestly believe him to be such a man? That he would reject your efforts because their are of humble origins?

He would have to rectify that train of thought. Because are his dear captain.

"I figured out the punishment for you Captain."

The man above leans closer, so close you could feel the words that leave his lips.

"You will stay with me for the rest of the day."

You blink, in what world is that punishment? For either of you. You don't ponder the thoughts much longer as Aglovale finally covers your lips with his own.

Like always your mouth opens to greet his tongue with your own. You could taste the chocolate on his tongue and your fingers spring into action, finally ridding his hair of that pesky ribbon.

Finally the king had you pinned down, his body covering yours. His intention was to get you to admit to your deceit and give him his chocolates properly.

Yet this is fine.

Your body archers into his touch, completely enraptured by him and him alone.

This was even better.

Aglovale pulls away from your hungry mouth. A small whine leaves your lips and you tug on his golden hair with a pout.

The only light that illuminates the room are the stars and moon from outside. Making the man above you unfairly beautiful.

"I am not a man that would ever make light of your feelings my dear."

#gbf #granblue fantasy #Aglovale #Aglovale x reader #valentine #gbf fanfic #k.Valentinefics #k.writes✒

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imma-potatoo · 3 years

Note

Remus + framed

Hi Finn!! So sorry it took this long-

@badthingshappenbingo

Send me a character and a prompt! No romantic prinxeity, r*mr*m, U!Janus or U!Logan please!!

Masterpost

Sequel

Warnings: blood, U!Roman, major character death, child abuse (briefly mentioned at the end), gore, blaming someone?, bolded text, ask to tag

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Green Eyes

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Janus lay crumpled on the ground, blood staining the wooden floorboards as he replayed his attacker’s smile in his mind, a towering figure with a morning star, smirking as he crushed his ribs, whispered threats and insults between ripping out his scales, pinned him to the wall as he cut off his oxygen supply, watching those green eyes suck away his life force for whatever heinous crimes that he deemed death worthy of. He couldn’t understand why. Why him? He knew that this side hated him with a burning passion but resorting to attempted murder….

He wasn’t gonna die… right? The yellow side’s eyes started to glaze over as he pondered his own mortality. No. no he was dying. Blood bubbled over his lips as his mind grew cloudy, Janus’ eyelids were blinking open and shut, tears leaking down his face. A small nap couldn’t hurt, right? Janus sank, his eyes shutting as he heard his bedroom door click open. The last thing he heard was an ear-piercing scream as his vision went black.

Deceit didn’t wake back up.

Remus chuckled as he sewed together a voodoo doll, his tongue slightly poking out in concentration. He was sewing a present for the resident snake. Besides, he was bored because he lost his morning star, no more practicing his swing until he got it back. The needle broke through the yellow fabric before being turned back in, attaching a neon green button for the eye.

The green side laughed lowly as he heard the shattering scream of Patton from a few rooms over, must’ve found the spiders that he “accidentally” help escape from Virgil’s room (Remus regrets nothing) he started to hum a twisted tune as he heard running in the hallway. More screams were triggered one after another. The intrusive side just continued to hum as he heard loud sobbing, muddled with screams as the sounds of more heavy footsteps filled the hallway.

Of course, he just ignored it. If he goes to check it out then he’ll get distracted, then he’ll start to do different things, then he’ll completely forget about Janus’ present! So, the side continued to hum his melody as more tears filled in from a few doors over.

The loud sobs continued for a long time, Remus was never very good at keeping track of time, but it was starting to get ridiculous. Did a few loose spiders really call for this big of a fuss?

Remus had his brows knitted together, he huffed an exasperated sigh as he threw the yellow voodoo doll to the ground. He stood up with a huff and stormed out his door, slamming it behind him. Following the sounds to the local snake’s room. The door was ajar, loud echoing cries coming from inside. A bloody handprint on the door frame.

Remus creaked open the door, but he wasn’t prepared for what he saw.

Janus lay spread out, his face unrecognizable but the look of utter terror with a small spark of acceptance flooded his eyes. His snake eye was so dilated that it appeared round. His mouth was slightly open with thick trails of fresh blood streamed down his lips. Most of his scales were nothing but open bloody gaping holes, leaking red and yellow pus.

His ribcage was barely even intact. Smashed with a large blunt weapon to nothing but shards. Large bruises covered his entire body, a handprint around his neck, round spots where fists were impacted.

Remus couldn’t tear his eyes away from the side. He knew that Logan was holding Janus’ hat to his chest, sobbing choked tears. Virgil was frozen in place with a pale face, mouth gaped open as he stared at the drying pool of crimson. Patton was screaming, shaking Janus’ body as if the side would wake back up.

Remus could feel his face grow paler, his mind repeating the side’s smile, he tore his gaze away from Janus. Looking around the room, he could feel his stomach twist in disgust and disbelief when he saw his morning star sitting in the center of the blood puddle. He looked up from his weapon to lock eyes with his brother.

Roman’s face was angry, it rose the hair on the back of his neck as the red twin dug his eyes into Remus’ head. “What did you do, Remus?!” Roman’s voice shook the entire house, he took heavy steps towards his twin, and for once, Remus didn’t gather any joy from seeing a dead body.

Remus took a step or two backward, his hands shaking as his adam’s apple bobbed with a gulp. “I didn’t do anything RoBro! I swear that I didn’t do anything like this!”

Roman glared, his green eyes meeting Remus’ red ones. “Then how do you explain that your weapon was used to kill Janice!”

Remus now had tears soaking his mustache, purple eyeshadow smeared horribly from when he went to rub away the liquid, “It’s Janus! And I lost my morning star!”

Roman growled as he took more steps toward his twin, “when?!”

Remus hit the wall, he racked his brain thinking of an answer. When did he lose his morning star? He lost it the same day when he ate Logan’s notebook, which he thought was a day ago, “Yesterday! I lost it yesterday!

Logan snapped his head up. His cheeks flushed as he stared at the green side, “that’s a fabrication. I saw you with it earlier today,” Logan’s eyes were bloodshot as he analyzed the side against the wall

Remus gulped, he knew what was happening, “No wai-”

Virgil didn’t even bother to break his gaze, “and you’re wearing different clothes from earlier today..”

“Pleas-”

Patton pulled the bloodied side closer to his chest, sharp gasps of breath. Sobs racking his body, “y-y-you were al-so the last one to come i-in, kid-do…” Pattons tears landed on the paling side’s face

Remus couldn’t comprehend what the others were saying, “You nerds can’t seriously think that I would fucking do something like this..” His voice was dry, Remus’ chest constricted as the other four in the room gave him a look of betrayal.

Silence spread throughout the room, if Janus were there; he would’ve mocked the silence with a witty comment or a piece of dry sarcasm. Janus could turn the sour mood in seconds. But Janus wasn’t there.

Virgil finally turned to face the green side, cold displeased eyes met his red ones, “Get out.”

“Bu-”

“GET THE HELL OUT OF OUR HOUSE!” Virgil’s shout shook the house and struck fear into the intrusive side.

Remus ran out of the room. Tears streaming down his cheeks in thick globs. He didn’t even stop at his room.

Remus slammed the front door and ran back to the dark sides, collapsing to the concrete floor with nerve-wracking sobs.

On the other side of the mind. Three sides grieved a friend, a member of the family, a loved one. Another forged his sadness with crocodile tears and pitiful looks.

The red side with emerald green eyes help plan a funeral for his victim

Mouths later, when a newly formed Deceit joined them in the mindscape. A small toddler with blueish yellow scales and a taste for citrus fruits, the purple, cyan, and blue sides wondered why the toddler had bruises marking his skin.

And that’s when they realized their mistake.

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nightwingshero · 4 years

Text

Judgement ⚖️

I had the amazing opportunity to commission the wonderful and talented @oliviawildesjawline to do Wren Blake as Nemesis personified in the role of Judge. And OMG!!!! IT’S AMAZING!!! You’ve completely blown me away with this piece! This is just...this is way better than I imagined it, and the colors?! You never fail to amaze me. Thank you so much for making this a reality!!! It’s absolutely perfect and I CAN’T STOP STARING AT IT!!!

Joseph always told John that his sin would come around in another form. But the cycle never broke, and Wren’s sin comes around in the form of one she thought as a friend. Wren faces her first Judgement as Herald of Eden’s Gate, and the scales aren’t tipping in Jess Black’s favor. .

It’s hard to breathe sometimes, I found. Wasn’t anyone’s fault in particular, but I could feel the weight of something in my chest. And whether it's my own sin curling its hand around my lungs or the guilty that refuse to answer for what they had done, one couldn’t say. It was just so heavy.

Facing your demons was something people preached about, insisted on, despite how utterly terrifying it could be. Confront those feelings, the dark and long-legged spiders that formed cobwebs in the back of your mind to whisper the poisonous thoughts you believed to be your subconscious. They’re traitorous things, always sticky and malicious, knocking the angel off your shoulder with utter disdain. Crooked smiles taunting as you fall down and down until you can’t even tell that you’ve fallen into the pit of Tartarus itself. But yes, face your demons, darling.

And I’m face to face with her now.

Die a hero or live long enough to see yourself become the villain. Forgive and love or watch as your sin comes around in a new form. The words were meant for both me and the man I spend my nights with, both of us on the different sides of the same coin. It makes me contemplate, hearing a clock tick, but there is no clock here. No, not down here.

I tilt my head, careful not to allow my own wrath to consume my very being, igniting something that would burn out of control. My own test. And I realize the ticking is coming from my jaw, the words finding refuge there to avoid the sharp tip of my silver tongue. My words are like bullets, and I always preferred the personal touch of a blade over the gracelessness of a gun. Guns didn’t teach lessons.

I guess you could say they never got the point across.

My burgundy lips are twisting, a dark sneer that I had learned from the best of the best. And I feel as if it is his hand that’s guiding my actions, his tattooed digits tracing the coolness of my skin as if I was a marionette, but I am so much more. I am my own being, my own actions, my own existence.

I am my own Herald.

I wonder if that makes her heart beat faster, knowing that no other will interfere, she’s in my domain. Joseph wouldn’t even dare to put his hand upon the scales, refusing to taint the will of God because Judgement is sacred. A ritual that must be done right or else we pay the price. A soft hand or the steel of my knife, each calculation is accurate and precise, one wrong call and it unravels the bonds we weave for ourselves.

Rolling my neck, I can feel the tightening of an imaginary snake around my neck, it's comforting hissing and flicking tongue in my ear, and I swear I can feel just the slightest scratch of his beard. He’s not here, but I feel him.

You must always face your demons.

There’s hesitation within me when I swore that there would be none, a slight sliver of doubt piercing the insides of me, because I’m not sure if I can do this clearly. Fairly. A delicate line between revenge and vengeance and it has woven itself around my fingers, arms, entangling all the way down my spine. There should be metal there, but I fear that it’s only the thread keeping me standing straight.

I am alone.

Doing this on my own is an important feat. A necessary one that I take seriously. Perhaps a rite of passage, but I feel like I’m on the precipice of falling, or diving, and it steels my resolve. My dark heels click against the concrete floor, echoing against the harsh walls that match the harsh glow of light. I remembered my first time in this room, my shirt ripping apart as if it were nothing, fear pumping into my veins with just enough adrenaline. A toxic cocktail of endorphins, but I can practically taste the bitterness of her anger as she glares from her chair.

It’s exciting, almost. Oh god, the absolute thrill and I return her glare, because I am alone. Nobody is coming to save her, and I am the only way out for her. It doesn’t sway her actions, her feelings, for she is still so encompassed with loathing. She can’t see what is in front of her. What her pride has done to those around her, and I’m suddenly ready to pass my Judgement by just the slight reminder of her horrid actions. I still feel the warm blood on my hands and the tears that flowed that night. I want her blood in return, eye for an eye.

I swallow and shove what I can to the side, keeping what remanence of the control I had left. I rub my hands against the tight black pants, a wishful thought of them helping to hold me in place as I take another step forward. Her eyes follow, and I’m sure she means to be threatening with the look in her eyes, but I feel like laughing at her. The poor thing is tied and gagged, what threat was she? I fight the urge to rip the tape from her mouth just for the satisfaction of causing some sort of pain.

Reaching her, I rest my knee on her chair next to her leg and she jerks away. I have to fight the laugh because she’s ridiculous. Always acting like a child, always so damn selfish. I click my tongue, the organ finally rising to the occasion because I am done being silent. The words are screaming, clawing at the insides and I’m shocked that I have yet to spit blood upon her face out of spite.

I grab her face instead, and god, the relief I feel for it. The black nails pressing against her flesh, indents around my fingers. I feel the sweat, and I’m not shocked. This room was always a bit hot, and I was ready to remove the black button up to cool the hot skin underneath, but I thought better of it. It was almost a relief to feel the sponge against my chest so long ago, John showing me he was willing to give, but I won’t give her the blessing of reprieve. I am not merciful; I am not here to love her.

“I heard you refuse to Confess.”

My words, finally freed, are low and oh so soft. Had it been anyone else, my voice would have been a caress, comforting enough for them to come closer. But she knows better, and I can tell that from the way she’s looking at me, that I am nothing but a demon to her. A traitor who hid her horns so well that it was her sins that had to reveal them. And that’s fine. I’ll be whatever she wanted me to be.

I’ll be what I had to be.

A demon for her, a righteous Judge for them.

A whore of Babylon or The Baptist’s wife.

Nemesis.

So many crowns, thrones even, and no matter how heavy, I stood tall with my head held high as they all fell to my feet with praise or with blood in their mouths. I would protect my flock from the poison of those who slither in the shadows, spouting lies upon lies and destroying whatever was in their path. I almost pitied them.

Almost.

“You know that my Judgement comes after the Confession, don’t you dear?”

I’m taunting her and her eyes burn brighter. It’s answered with my nails piercing through her skin, blood pooling just a bit, and I hear her grunt of pain. She’s underestimating my rage, her betrayal. Her actions have spoken more than her lips ever could, so it’s fine. But the urge to make her feel something, to show just how scared she should be, is getting the better of me. Perhaps my wrath wasn’t contained, and I find it hard to feel regret for it. But I just smile, baring my teeth.

The scales have tipped, even if they were just a bit crooked to begin with.

Lowering myself, my lips find her ear. If I listen closely, perhaps I could hear the ghost of her beating heart pumping in her empty void of a chest. A falsity to make her seem more human than puppet, but we both know that it's wood underneath this skin. She was nothing but a mere tool at his disposal, and I had every intention of breaking it.

“That’s alright. Your silence is enough for me to pass Judgement, and oh dear, the sins you’ve committed…you should start praying to your God for forgiveness, honey. You won’t find any here.”

#I'm in love with this #my heart 😭😭😭😭#look at HOW GORGEOUS SHE IS #red and blue #deputy wren blake #wren seed #the judge of edens gate #nemesis #greek mythology #john seed #jess black #wrath is a sin #oliviawildesjawline #Far Cry 5 #far cry oc #far cry 5 art

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