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pacifymebby · 1 year

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Center of Gravity // Bonnie Gold

Part 2

It wasnt that far back to the settlement but by the time Bonnie had carried you back your fringe was beginning to dry, your long dark hair still dripping water like rain onto the rest of you. But the whisps which hung over your brow were beginning to dry and catch the breeze.

"Hope youre gonna keep that promise little dove," breathed Bonnie the slight anxoety in his voice making you giggle as the two of you emerged from the edge of the woodlands close enough to the wagons and the fires to be seen.

And of course the moment the younger boys saw you they started shouting for you.

"Bonnie did ye catch her did ye?" "Did she give ye a kiss?" "Ewww Bonnie kissed y/n!"

And then of course all their commotion got the attention of your families, in particular your father's.

When Bonnie saw the look on your fathers face he swallowed a lump in his throat knowing full well that unless you turned out to be a better liar now than you were as a child, he was completely and utterly for it.

He placed you down on the ground gently, about to let go of you when to his surprise you grabbed his hand and put his arm back around your shoulder.

It was cold despite the sun being out and you were beginning to feel the chill. That and you were nervous. You had a feeling you were about to wind up the two of you in a fair bit of trouble, unless you could lie to your father.

Bonnie had always said you were a bad liar and you knew it was true.

"It looks like our Bonnie threw y/n in the river..." started your father, a frown on his brow that set the fear of god in Bonnie and, if you were being honest, your own heart skittering nervously.

"'s not how it happened Da, Bonnie saved me!" you said quickly, your voice escaping you with enough urgency but not enough strength for your father to believe you.

"Oh he saved ye did he?" chuckled Aberama waving one of Bonnies sisters over with towels to dry you off.

"Well not exactly da..."

"He did," you said a little more convincingly this time because technically you weren't actually telling a lie, "i fell in..."

"We were being stupid Harry, it was my fault I'm sorry..." saod Bonnie, one hand scratching the back of his neck a little sheepishly.

"Why am i not surprised eh? How many times do i have to tell ye eh? You be careful with my little girl..." you watched your father point his finger accusingly at Bonnie but you could see the light in his eyes and knew your friend didnt really have anything to worry about.

"Sorry Harry, wont happen again i.."

"Aye it will," your father dismissed the poor lad before he could finish his sentence, "it will lad but ah well, whats the harm, as long as ye bring her home safe to me, whats the harm.."

"Oh bloody hell y/n youre gonna catch your death!" cried your sister at the sight of you, her shriek making some of the younger kids riled up once again.

"Bonnie threw her in the river he did!" they giggled and shouted, "bet its cause she wouldn't kiss him!" "Bonnie threw y/n in the river cause she wouldny kiss him!"

With his arm around your waist still Bonnie felt you struggling to hold in your laughter, a grin acompamying his groan of frustration at the young lads chanting.

"Dont you bloody laugh an all!" he struggled not to laugh himself when he looked down at you and you turned to him with a bloody big mischievous grin on your pretty little face. But when he noticed the blue in your lips, your pale cheeks without colour to them, his smile dropped and a little frown knitted his brow.

Without thinking he brought his hand up to cup your cheek, thumb brushing over your bottom lip. You didn't move, just looked up at him blinking back with those doe eyes, frozen. He didnt notice that you were both of you still being watched. In that moment he'd forgotten that anyone else existed because you looked cold.

"Youre too cold Dove, your sisters right you'll catch your death, go inside and get dry..."

"Dont see you rushing to get dry..." you started about to argue back when he split a crooked grin and, with one hand to your shoulder, turned you round and pushed you gently towards your wagon.

"I said go get youself dry, go on..." he repeated watching as you wrapped your arms around yourself and finally did as you were told. He could tell the pout on your lips without you needing to turn round and show him, he recognised the huff of your shoulders when you hugged your arms like that.

He couldn't work out what had annoyed you though, or what exactly you had to sulk about just then.

"Youre quite capable of catchin cold too Bonnie Gold!" you called back to him over your shoulder, trying to pretend that you were just pissed off at him for womens equality reasons. But you weren't.

Actually you weren't pissed off at him at all. You were just disappointed. You loved his company so dearly that whenever you had to part even if only for a short ammount of time, you felt an aching dissapointment in you.

And that's what you felt now. What you were trying to hide with your jaggy remarks.

"Bonnie saved me da," your sister giggled the second youd closed the door behind you, "did he fuck.." she laughed at you when you hit her with a towel, splitting a grin and giggling too.

"Well I can't swim and he got me out of the river so you tell me if he saved me or not," you said unable to hold back laughing, the two of you didnt tend to keeo secrets because you could read eachother like a book.

"Aye but why were you in the river in the first place y/n"

"Did you no hear me or what?" you shot her a wink, grinning still as you began to undress and dry yourself.

You stepped out of your heavy skirt and let it fall in a sodden heap at your feet. You pulled your shirt over your head and dropped that too only to freeze amd snatch at a blanket when you heard scrambling and scratching outside your wagon.

"Oi! Get ye's gone away from there now! Go on whssht!"

You bit back a laugh when you recognised Bonnies voice shortly followed by little boys laughter and the pattering of feet.

As you dried yourself off and found some warmer clothes to wear you couldn't help but laugh thinking about the poor boys scarpering. As if Bonnie would actually ever hurt a single one of the kids. Still, it was nice he was so protective over you and it left a smile on your lips knowing that it was him out there protecting your dignity.

"Isnt he sweet," teased your sister, "so protective of his little dove," she giggled, biting down a real laugh when you kicked a shoe at her across the floor. "You're too cold dove, go inside," she carried on teasing until you were red in the face, worried that if youd been able to hear the boys outside, they could hear you. That bonnie might be able to hear you too.

"Whshht would ye!" you hushed her fighting with her to shut her up as you pulled on dry clothes.

You found an old sweater of your father's, one which had been knitted by your mother a long time ago, which had been handed down to you and treasured despite the holes which had been patched up terribly over the years by your sister.

Once you were warm and dressed you took your hairbrush and abandoned your sister in exchange for the fire. Of course she followed you anyway, still teasing you, half way through making another comment about Bonnie's devotional personality when you opened the vardo up to see none other than Bonnie sitting at the foot of your steps.

Your sister couldn't help herself, she burst out laughing, pleased to high heaven that he was proving her point without even realising.

He flushed a little, a slight pinkish hue to his pale features when he realised she was laughing at him.

"The lads were spyin on ye," he nodded to your wagon as if trying to explain yourself, "Reckon that Rye Palmers taken a fancy to ye y/n,"

"Aye hes not the only one," sniggered your sister taking you by the sleeve of your jumper and dragging you away to sit by the fire.

With you dressed and warming up Bonnie felt he could finally go and change himself. He was relieved to be able to disappear inside his vardo where he could finally be rid of his soaking wet clothes which had begun to catch him a chill whilst he was guarding you.

He did however feel a little jealous to be leaving you with your sister to brush your hair and put a blanket around your shoulders. That was something he wanted to be doing for you. Not just because it was his fault your hair was soaked and had bits of river weed in it, but also because it would give him another excuse to be near you, to touch you and sit closely with you. Hed be able to pay you his full attention and know that you were giving him yours too.

He knew he needed to get these thoughts out of his head, you didnt see him like that and one day you were going to be older, youd stop being his little dove and he'd have to distance himself from his best friend. Some other man would come along and steal you away from him. The thought made him bitter, made him feel all the more jealous and so when he finally did return to the fireside to warm himself up, his face was sullen.

His friends knew what the matter was and so did his father, but you had no idea and his frown painted a frown on your face too.

You didn't know what had gotten into him all of a sudden and you were about to call over to him, tell him to come and sit down with you so that you could ask, but when his eyes met yours across the fire, his frown fell away and smile broke out across his lips.

It was forced of course, you didnt know that but it was, Bonnie just couldnt stand to let you see him sulking like that. He wanted your whole world to be warm and full of happy things, never wanted his sweet dove to worry about anything, least of all him, so when hed seen you looking at him with a frown of your own hed pushed a smile from beneath his gloomy mood and shot you a wink to make you blush.

"Here Lina I'll finish that for ye," he said to your sister as he pushed himself up from his seat with his friends. As he left he heard one of them make a teasing comment. He turned quick as lighting and knocked the hat from their head with a cheeky laugh of his own. Your giggling ringing out behind him made him swell with pride and when he sat by your side and took the brush from your sister, he couldnt keep the pleased little smile off his lips.

"reckon this is my job tonight little dove, since its my fault like," he said quietly in your ear. His lips brushed your ear as he spoke and the feeling of his warm breath on your cold skin sent a warm current through your veins.

"Whsht Bonnie," you smiled "dont let me da hear ye say anythin like that... He'll swing for ye..."

At that Bonnie chuckled and settled down, concentrating on your hair, scooping it up away from your neck which he resisted the urge to bow to and kiss.

These little instinctive thoughts were growing stronger by the day and he was beginning to get nervous you could tell how he felt.

He sat with his knees up, horizontal to you so that you could lean back against him as he combed the brush through your long hair. Every now and then he'd wrap it all in a towel and squeeze the water out of it before going back to carefully brushing it again.

"Have you much work to do tomorrow?" he asked you absentmindedly running his fingers through your hair as he untangled it and picked out little pieces of twig and leaves.

"Depends if me da decides am to be punished for falling in that river doesnt it," you hummed with a cheeky smile knowing hed do nothing of the sort.

"Sorry dove, i shouldn't have done it, was stupid of me," he started apologising, falling into your trap so that you laughed twice as hard. "ey stop teasing me right i feel proper bad about it..."

"Don't," you said softer as your laugh died down and you settled back against his legs. You felt so comfortable there, so secure. He was being gentle with you, almost tender and his touch left you with a warm glow in your tummy and your cheeks you couldnt mistake for anythin but what it was... Love.

"Don't feel bad Bonnie, i wasn't lying when i said you saved me..."

"Shouldn't have needed saving," he said again letting you know you wouldnt be able to argue it with him anymore.

"Bonnie?" you asked as a yawn escaped you, his careful touch was relaxing you a little too much, you were exhausted and as the sun was setting and the air was cooling, you felt yourself growing weary and sleepy.

"yes dove?"

"Can you plait it?" you asked. You weren't sure hed know how but you seen him helping with some of the younger girls hair before when their mother's were busy with the babies so you were hopeful.

"Can't guarantee it will be as pretty as when you do it but I'll try my best," he smiled, his voice soft with sleep too.

He knew why you were asking; if he plaited it you wouldnt have to wait too long for it to be dry enough that you could go to bed and not catch cold in the night. But, he also wanted to believe it an excuse for him to stay with you longer, for you to get to share that close, almost intimate time together for just a little longer. And again, he knew he needed to stop thinking that way but it was difficult.

Not when he wanted it to be the truth as badly as he did.

By the time he was finished you were almost asleep. He could feel your body weight leaning back against him. The fires were ebbing out but in the remaining sparks your cheeks glowed a warm, sleepy shade of red. You felt so cosy and safe there with him, felt like you were exactly where you were supposed to be, and although you needed your bed, the last thing you wanted to do was part from your friend. It was like there was some mysterious force which dragged you towards him. The same force which kept you both rooted to the earth, pulling you into him too.

Bonnie thought looked adorable, your droopy eyelids struggling to stay open. He wanted nothing more than to stay there with you longer but he knew that what you needed then was your bed.

"c'mon little dove, off to bed with ye," he said helping you to your feet, letting you lean into his side as he put an arm around you and walked you the short distance to your vardo.

He dreamed of the day he didnt have to leave you at the door. Of the day he could close the door behind him and crawl into your shared bed beside you.

The thought came on so strong then that it physically hurt him to swallow down and ignore it. The yearning to be more than just a friend to you so overwhelming he didnt know what to do with himself.

All he did was all he could do. Say good night to you, give your hand a squeeze before letting you go.

Not even a kiss on the cheek to tide him over until the morrow. When you stepped away from him he felt the cold occupy the space youd been, his body feeling a little off balance as if his whole center of gravity had been shaken by you. In many ways he supposed, that was true.

Part 3

#Bonnie gold x reader #Peaky blinders x reader #Peaky blinders imagines #peaky blinders headcanon #bonnie gold x reader #peaky blinders imagines #peaky blinders

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amaurotine-daydreaming · 7 months

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XXIII. Suit

“Milord.” Lyna snapped her feet together, straightened her back, and braced her arms in a Crystarium salute.

Under his cowl, a broad smile spread across the Exarch’s face. “At ease, Lyna. Allow me to offer my congratulations on your induction into the Crystarium Guard.”

Even at sixteen summers, Lyna was now more than a full head taller than her guardian. She relaxed her stance and allowed herself a small smile down at him.

“I do not wish to keep you from your duties,” said the Exarch, “but if you have a moment, I have prepared a gift for you to mark the occasion.”

Lyna crossed her arms, turning wry. “Favoritism, my lord?”

He shrugged, still smiling. “I pray you will humor my indulgence as a proud guardian, just this once.”

She unfolded her arms, feeling the slightest bit the proud daughter despite herself. “Very well.”

—

There were years–about ten, precious years–in Lyna’s childhood where the Exarch had seen her express herself without reservation, years in which she allowed herself the carefree joy and open curiosity to which all children should be granted.

But the outside world gradually crept in, as the outside world is wont to do. He had always sought to give her as peaceful a young life as possible in the protective embrace of the Crystarium, without hiding her from the realities of this Light-drowned world. The Twelve knew she had suffered tragedy at the hands of the Light young, as so many did.

Then Lyna reached adolescence, and the Exarch watched as she withdrew into herself more. With his own quietude and painstakingly crafted persona of stoicism, he supposed he had not helped.

He did not begrudge her this change, but neither would he deny the joy he felt seeing pride in her eyes at the induction ceremony, and again standing before him; she hid it well, but he knew she was moved that he thought to mark the occasion with a gift.

“You will be familiar with this room,” the Exarch said, unlocking one of the nigh countless chambers of the Tower. Within was an armory stocked with racks upon racks of weaponry: bows, polearms, staves, swords…

Lyna’s lips parted with awe. “This room…I do not remember how I managed to find it the first time, and I never could again.”

“Which was just as well, for it is no place for a child,” the Exarch said, with a chastened laugh. “I fear I am at fault for it having been accessible in the first place.

“With your induction to the Guard, I wanted to give you the opportunity to consider the specialty you wish to pursue.” He swept his hand in a broad arc. “Whichever you feel suits you, I will have a replica commissioned.”

“I…do not know what to say,” Lyna breathed, looking around at the widest array of armaments that probably existed anywhere in Norvrandt. Some of them she didn’t even recognize. “Or, for that matter, where to begin.”

“Any choice you make need not be permanent.”

She turned to look over her shoulder. “But you, milord…you have mastered more than one art.”

“I also have had many more years to hone my skills,” he reminded her. “And even with the benefit of that time, a jack of all trades is, as they say, the master of none. There was even a time I wielded a bow, but I found my true calling in the arcane.”

Lyna ran her hand down the length of a compound bow. He had once been an archer? Or perhaps even a bard. But she did not ask, not anymore–instead she tucked away this new, treasured detail in her heart for safekeeping.

The Exarch glanced over his shoulder at the staff he carried ever near at hand. “Even when I turn to other arts as necessary, they derive from spellcraft–armaments crafted from aether, not steel. Otherwise I would not have the strength to wield them.” He smiled. “I couldn’t help but notice, however, that spellcraft does not seem to be in your area of interest.”

“No, milord,” Lyna admitted. “I find more comfort in the weight of steel.”

“Let us put aside spellcasting, then.” The Exarch walked further into the room, beyond the staves and scepters and battered leather grimoires. Lyna followed.

“I see that you are considering the bow,” he said. “Archery can be a prudent choice in your encounters with sin eaters. You will have the ability to strike them down before they can reach you, or if they are in flight. It will also allow you to aid someone if you are too far away to reach them on foot. However, I need not tell you that you will be at a disadvantage should their ranks close in around you.”

He stopped–they had reached a section of exclusively martial weapons. Lyna scanned through a variety of spiked horas, claws, and short blades. She tested the weight of a dagger in her hand, then carefully set it down again. The Exarch had intuited correctly, she realized: she wanted to be able to help her comrades-in-arms, no matter where she stood on the battlefield. Her chest tightened to think that her choice of weapon could cost lives–even her own–simply because she hadn’t been able to choose an appropriate weapon to master for her role….

The Exarch, it seemed, knew her better than she knew herself. And yet here she was, more than dozen summers in his care and still hoarding what little she knew of him like a starveling finding breadcrumbs. Her shoulders fell in a sigh.

“Lyna? Is something amiss?”

“No, my lord. It is simply…a lot of choices.”

Lyna moved on to a double-headed battle axe and stopped to gaze up at it.

“Ah, the labrys,” said the Exarch, with a note of wistfulness. “I once knew a woman who….” He stopped and shook his head. “My apologies, that is neither here nor there. What you should know is that in practiced hands, it can become a cyclone of steel, a nigh-impenetrable wall of both offense and defense. As well it should be, since it would be your only defense.”

“May I take it down?”

“Of course. See how it feels, and mind the weight of it.”

Grasping the labrys’s haft with both hands, Lyna gingerly lifted it from the rack…and staggered slightly under its weight. Her cheeks burned, but she managed not to drop the weapon.

“Rest the haft and blade horizontally and spread your hands apart to distribute the weight, or keep your hands closer to the base and use your shoulder as a rest.”

Lyna heaved the weapon up and, in an effort not to accidentally take off part of her ear, dropped the haft so close to the edge of her shoulder she nearly toppled. The Exarch instinctively went to steady her, but she was quick to balance herself and he respectfully stood back.

“Quite intimidating, if I do say so myself.”

Lyna rolled her eyes, embarrassed.

“It is a bit heavy,” she admitted. “I will adjust to it in time, I am sure, but…” She frowned, shifting her weight and looking up at it. “Such weight feels counterproductive to mobility.”

She gingerly tilted the labrys forward. Its weight fell off her shoulder and the haft landed in her waiting palm.

“I am coming closer to a decision,” she stated, and replaced the axe on the rack. She was grateful the Exarch was never a man to laugh at someone else’s struggles, because putting the weapon back did not turn out to be as graceful an act as she would’ve liked. But she managed.

On the next rack were a selection of swords and shields, and further down from that were lances. Lyna walked over to the lances first. These were much easier to pick up, and she examined her choice up and down.

“This one I am partial to,” she said. “It has range and mobility, and…what is this?” She pointed to the top of the lance, where splitting from the simple metal point was a curved head, almost like a sickle, as well as a few barbs.

“Ah, the guisarme,” said the Exarch, smiling. “It’s specialized to hook and trip as well as impale.”

That sounded quite useful. But… Lyna ran her fingers along the wood haft.

“There is a danger of it breaking, yes. ‘Tis a risk to all weapons, of course, but for this one the drawback is more pronounced. However, it would be more than possible for the artisans of the Mean to fashion a more durable haft made from an alloy.”

Lyna hummed thoughtfully, frowning to herself. She replaced the guisarme on the rack for the moment and glanced back over at the swords and shields.

“Armaments of choice for some of the earliest and most storied heroes,” said the Exarch, looking over them with admiration fair glowing in his voice. “With one hand you may drive back the enemy, and with the other be a bulwark for yourself and innocents.”

“You sound like you’re enjoying this, my lord.”

The Exarch chuckled. “As you well know, I have a tendency towards nostalgia for the stories of eld.”

“And these?” Hanging nearby was a pair of disc-shaped blades. With her height Lyna easily reached them, and was careful to loop her fingers along the inner edges as she lifted them from their pegs. Even with gloves on, the gleam of the sharp metal served as ample warning of the cut it was capable of.

“Chakrams,” stated the Exarch, although in holding them Lyna now recognized them. They were an uncommon choice of weapon, but not an unheard of one. “An excellent weapon for mobility and range without sacrificing the sharpness of steel. With a simple attunement to your aether, you will be able to recall them without risk of injury.”

Lyna tested their weight. Of all of the weapons she had tried so far, this one felt the closest to right. Except…

She made a face.

“Ah,” said the Exarch, understanding. “Are you concerned about its associations?”

Lyna nodded curtly. Chakrams were sometimes used in twirling dances alongside sword-swallowers and other street performers. She did not want to introduce herself to the Guard’s ranks with a weapon that called to mind entertainment before aught else.

“I would encourage you not to dismiss them out-of-hand, as it were,” said the Exarch. “If you worry about the respect of your fellows, I believe that will come sooner than you think.”

She eyed him. “You will not intervene on my behalf in that, I trust?”

The Exarch put a hand over his heart, shaking his head. “On my word, I will not. I am simply stating my confidence in your abilities to inspire your comrades in the days to come.

“And I know you are not one to allow pride to lead you to forsake a weapon that may best suit you.”

Lyna looked down, humbled. “You are right, of course.”

With a chakram securely in each hand Lyna stretched her arms out, crossed them in front of her and then drew them back–a stretch in slow motion. Sharp. Lightweight. Mobile.

“Yes,” she said, holding one up to examine it more carefully in the light. “I believe these will suit me.”

#ffxivwrite2023 #ffxivwrite #ffxiv #lyna #crystal exarch #shadowbringers

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slashingdisneypasta · 3 years

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Freddy Krueger x Fem!Reader || Drabble

Plot: So I am working on the sequel to this one shot: Surprise! Merry Christmas! BUT I just had this thing stuck in my head so here you go!; The Prequal. How the 'affair', started.

Warnings: The first part turned out a lot more wholesome then I intended haha XD But we need more Freddy fluff and I'm a sucker for the scandalous characters actually having the most surprisingly wholesome relationships! There ARE also references to smut/talk of it though of course closer and closer to the end.

At some point late at night, Jennifer had fallen asleep beside you despite promising to stay up and watch the rest of the Twilight's with you, and left you sitting up in bed, cheeks in your hands, bored out of your mind and worst of all- wide awake.

You certainly wont be able to sleep!; You're too hyped up from the coffee you just drank - with whipped cream and sprinkles, because its a sleepover! Jen picked your sprinkles, and they were pink and purple. You chose red and yellow for her, - , so basically you're wired. Besides... maybe if you're super tired tomorrow, you can call in sick for work. That would be nice, after todays disaster...

Finally, at the thought of your work today, you roll your eyes and groan; Slipping quietly out of Jens's bed and pulling on fluffy slippers so you can pad over the houses marble flooring (Something about it being easier to clean blood off of? Patrick invested in them a couple years back) without getting frostbite in your toes and having them snap off down the stairs. It's snack time, you've decided, and you know for a fact that there is Fruity Pebbles and ice-cream downstairs. A little bit of peril from walking alone, in the dark, through a house of murderers, is worth it for Fruity Pebbles and ice-cream. For sure.

Quietly, so quietly, and so so slowly, you shut the bedroom door closed behind you, not wanting to wake up your friend- or anyone living in the other bedrooms in this hallway. Definitely not them.

Then you're tiptoeing down the hall and down the stairs- thank god for the marble floors actually. Not only are they stain resistant, but they don't squeak like wood. Now that would be just perfect in this house, squeaky floorboards,... you grin at the thought, shaking your head as you reach the bottom of the staircase and turn right for the kitchen.

And promptly, you freeze. You take a deep breath to keep from screaming, because you were startled, and slowly let it out through your nose, gaze dropping to the floor. Crap on a cracker...

Then your eyes flicker to the one who's surprise presence in the kitchen - holding YOUR ice-cream, - , and give a little awkward waive- still a little startled. You will never get used to all these horror villains just... being around. No evil intent, just existing. You grew up watching these movies and now they're just... around? Because you chose to befriend the bitchy black-haired girl in your History class? Yeesh.

Usually, you're good with it- but its hard when its late at night, silent, and he hasn't bothered flicking the light on!

Which you do yourself, now, illuminating the room as Freddy waives his spoon back, not paying much attention to you in favour of the ice-cream.

Your ice-cream.

Worrying your bottom lip, you wonder further into the kitchen and reach up and grab the Fruity Pebbles; Thinking maybe you should just forget the ice-cream, and use milk like a normal person. If this were a video-game, the ice-cream would be your goal and Freddy would be the complication. But are you at strength enough to try and get it from him? Hmmm... Kneeling down, you pick out a bowl from the bottom cupboards - a spare blue one, - , deciding to give up on your short lived dream of ice cream and cereal when you feel a sudden jab in the middle of your spine, and you yelp. "What!- " You turn to look over your shoulder and up to see Freddy with the end of his spoons handle pointed at you, and raise an eyebrow. What is it?

"Get me out a bowl too, I wanna try something."

Humming in agreement, you reach back into the cupboard and find the red bowl with the name 'FREDDY' labelled on it. Then get up, grabbing the milk and a spoon on your way and settle down at the kitchen table with him; crossing your legs criss-cross applesauce on the chair. As you're getting comfy, kicking off your slippers and opening the cereal box, Freddy scoops out some of his - YOUR, - ice-cream and plops it into your bowl. "What are- "

For the second time that night, you do not get to finish your question because Freddy wags the spoon at you again. "We're trying something."

Good grief, you think, but give a little closed-mouth smile anyway, as the ice-cream is in your bowl. "Okay... with Fruity Pebbles?"

"Mhm," He nods, gesturing for you to do that as the box is on your side, finishing up filling both your bowls with ice cream. You smile brightly this time as you pick up the box and pour it over his bowl first- you still get your ice-cream and Fruity Pebbles! So this is a good time. Also, you don't mind his company, either. Despite Jennifer insisting you probably should.

"Okay, so, when you taste it," You start, scooping up a good portion - with mostly ice cream but a good amount of cereal, - and holding a finger up to where Freddy's sitting, not paying as much attention to what he scoops up. But its a lot. Too much to shove in his mouth, you'd think, but the freak is just like that. Go big or go home. "You pay attention. And give me a rating out of 10."

You do a double take when you glance over at him and catch him smirking, giving you a once over. Immediately you groan and your cheeks heat up in embarrassment, before any words come out of his mouth even. And you were having such a wholesome time for two seconds... "I'd give you a 10 outta 10, sweetheart."

"The Fruity... The Fruity Pebbles, Freddy!" You exclaim, uselessly. But for some reason you still cant help but smile. You point to his bowl, and he watches you in nothing but amusement. "You rate the Fruity Pebbles!!"

He just shoves his spoon in his mouth in response, grinning like a moron. You roll your eyes, following his lead and scrunching up your nose at him.

___TIME SKIP___

An hour later, the empty bowls sit forgotten in the middle of the table, as you're both turned in your seats to face the other instead of the table. You've forgotten about your terrible day at work, and Twilight, and Jennifer, and you're actually getting a little sleepy, finally.

Well- maybe not sleepy. Because you don't want to go to bed right now when Freddy's still here, and somehow managing to be kind of... possibly... maybe... perhaps a bit charming in a very Freddy way. Making you laugh a lot. So no, you aren't exactly sleepy, more... comfy. Un-wired. Which is nice after a bad day at work.

"So Y/N, what're you doing awake so late anyway? You strike me as an 8.30 bedtime kinda girl." The way he says it, its not a good thing nor a bad thing. Just cute; Just adorable. He looks at you like the he's the big bad wolf and you're his little red, and you really don't mind one bit.

Still, you feel weirdly comfortable with him. Dragging some fingers back through your hair, you rest your elbows on the table and blow air of out of full cheeks. "While I reject that judgment of me... The reason I'm up is, I had a bad day." When your gaze slips back over to him, and a spark of arousal of all things ignites in you, you look quickly away again- a frown on your lips. I should really go to bed... right now, you think, pushing off the table and back into your chair. "Annnnd I feel like its about to get a lot, worse... " Still, you find yourself not moving an inch; Maybe there's a little more daredevil in you then you thought- more then required already to befriend a succubus and sleep in house of murderers, that is. Your eyes flicker back to Freddy and stay there this time, eyebrows raised. "Why are you up? Shouldn't you be terrorising people, at this time of night?"

He chuckles, shaking his head, and as his voice lowers; You two officially enter a new phase, and a new mood- one from which you possibly may never recover from. "Not if things are gonna get much more fun out here, suddenly."

You cross your arms and assure him, "They're not." And oh you're so full of shit- and Freddy is unfortunately well aware of that fact, it seems.

His brows raise up, testing you. "You sure?"

For a good moment, you don't really know what to say in response - the age old question; To be honest or to lie? - before you groan and tut, looking away. "Ohhhhh... no... " It is about to get a lot worse, if you don't leave now.

But also, you really don't want to.

He raises a brow at you, curious about your responce. You squint back. "I'm just looking into the souls of my unborn children; Asking them if, decades from now, I'll still be complaining about this mistake, if I make it... " Looking thoughtful, you take a deep breath; Faking deep, musing contemplation- And Freddy greatly enjoys your theatrics. You arch an eyebrow at him after a moment, finally. "The answer is yes, unsurprisingly."

This time when his eyes narrow, there's something a lot darker in them for the first time this evening. Wiser then the antiquated pop culture references and dirty jokes he spouts by the second let on, more knowing then you classically realise Freddy is.

And it makes you feel more exposed then you've ever, felt.

Dragging his chair forward, as close to yours as he can get with his knees set on either side of your chair. Your legs are criss-cross apple sauce, and so are your arms, as you squint suspiciously up at him; Heart hammering in your chest like its trying desperately to escape and run away. Which actually you probably should do, yourself. "... What are you so afraid of, Y/N...? Haven't I proved I'm not trying to hurt you, by now? Cuz if I wanted to, trust me, you'd be hurt."

"I'm not afraid of you!" You blurt immediately, laughter in your voice at the idea- and even if you were, if he did try to hurt you, Jennifer would be down here in 2 seconds flat to snap his neck. "Where'd you get that idea??"

He smirks, and your heart drops down to your toes. "Not of me... At least as long as I'm at least a foot away from you. You wont even let me stand too close to you without freezing up like an iceberg, or escaping... And I cant help but notice, that you don't act so squirrely around anyone else in this mansion of horrors... despite how you probably should." Of course he noticed, damnit. Tilting his head to the side like a curious parrot, he leans in closer and just like he was saying; You lean the hell back away. Its like a sensory bomb in your chest... the closer this man is to your person, the faster the numbers tick down. "So you must want me."

Immediately, nervous laughter spurts out of you as he watches; A proud, lecherous grin on his his aggravating face. "Want you!? Hah! You... ha... you think I... ha ha um... n- no that's, um... " Nervous laughter quickly turns into guilty giggles. Taking a deep breath to stop that, your eyes closed for a moment, you press your hands together and calm yourself down. He's got you dead to rights. Oh fuck. "Um, you may have a point... "

Curious and slowly getting what he wants, the dream man inches closer to do- something. You don't know. But you freak out anyway as soon as you realise he's coming closer, eyes widening like Bambi, and despite genuinely wanting to stay put on that chair and see what happens, you yelp out a nope! and bounce out of it, putting it between the two of you instead.

"Ugh," Freddy groans, but doesn't move from his position, just looks up at you where you stand now, bemused at your evident physical reactions to him. Just his presence, just his existence; He honestly eats it up. But still, its frustrating all the same! "What do ya think I'm gonna do to you that you don't want?"

He doesn't think you've asked yourself that? "I dunno!" You exclaim, high and defensive. Like- how are you supposed to know?? "I just- It'll be awkward! Not after; During. If we... If I... " You cant even say the words. You're turning into complete mush just thinking about, cheeks glowing if that's even possible.

You hide your face in your hands, and whine.

When Freddy speaks next you can hear the lewd cheeriness in his tone. "Are you a virgin, sweetheart?"

Put your hopes back away, Freddy- "That's the thing!- No!" You cant believe you're talking about this with Freddy. And yes, its embarrassing and you're dying for a black hole to suck you up right about now but it would be a lot worse with anyone else. You find, you can articulate your feelings a lot better when he's listening; Better then when you talk to Jennifer, even. You can say whatever you want to to Freddy and he wont judge you.

Groaning like he's so hard done by, Freddy gets up to his feet and shrugs at you; Disbelieving. "Sure princess, if you say so." Your jaw drops, at that. The gall- this bastard- you kind of want to laugh, actually... "Whatever though. You know where to find me when you're ready." He winks, then leaves the room.

You watch until he's disappeared the corner, before scoffing and moving the clean up the table before going back to bed. A little, doubtful smirk plays on your mouth as you do.

Oh, he really had you going there for a moment. You were actually considering... Ugh, but not. That's an absolutely mad idea. Like that was ever going to happen! Pft! Man, though... it has been a while. You lean back against the sink after you put the bowls in there, chewing on the inside of your cheek. This has been a wake up call. "Fuck, I really need to date again... "

It has been a while, since you've been in any kind of proximity with a man you're interested in as more then a friend. But who could blame you for that? With all of Jennifer's bullshit and work being crazy- you have had no room, for a boyfriend!

Not that you've ever really liked having a boyfriend, before. All the explaining yourself about who you were with and why and where you were all the time...

It was nice having a guy around, though.

Rolling your eyes, you turn abruptly back to the sink, pulling on dishwashing gloves. "Well that's settled."

Tomorrow you start looking again.

And... and I do, totally, intend to do just that! You think, standing in front of that red and green painted door- behind which you've never seen before. So you aren't quite sure what to expect. But, obviously, you're even more nervous about who will answer it when you force yourself to knock. I will be looking for a boyfriend... but...

Taking a deep breath in, and chewing on your bottom lip, eyebrows furrowed in unsureness, you raise your hand and knock on the door. Quickly looking right and left, seeing if anyone has stirred at that sound, you see that no one has but don't relax one bit.

The door opens, and the wickedest grin is on Freddy's face seeing you. You open your mouth to say something, you aren't quite sure what, but before you can he grabs your wrist and tugs you inside; Closing and locking the door behind you.

And as he plants his first kiss on your mouth, and a resounding sigh escapes you at it you think;

But Freddy is not a boyfriend.

#Freddy Krueger x Reader Drabble #Prequal #Freddy Krueger x Reader #Freddy Krueger #Drabble Prequal #Drabble #Horror House

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ms-indifferwnt · 3 years

Text

“I’m Cold”

“I’m cold"

“And?”

“Can’t you give me your jacket or something?”

“Can’t you accept my proposal and marry me already?”

In which Prince Donghyuck’s parents are forcing him to get married and he decided to propose to the first girl he sees to shut his parents up

Genre: Prince!Lee Donghyuck x Maid!Reader, Angst, Fluff, Arranged Marriage (kinda), Slowburn

Warnings: Curse words, Suggestive (I’ll add more if there are)

Notes: Chapter 10 out of 13 of Im Cold. Im genuinely proud of this one, tell me what you guys think

WORD COUNT: 3.6k

Prev / Chapter 10 / Next

"You made me out as some kind of fool" Donghyuck raised his voice and looked at Y/n who was cowering at the anger the Prince was releasing "Why didn't you tell me about Hendery?"

You looked up at him "What?"

"The world thinks you are my Fiancé and you didn't think at all that I might wanna know if you're already in a relationship?"

"But-But why would that bother you?"

He froze, Why did that bother him? For the past couple of days he has been asking the same question, why would something like this be uncomfortable and why in the world did he care four days left and two weeks are up so why does he want to keep you more than ever especially now that he knows you do not belong to him? he looks down at his tea, bottom lip caught in between his teeth

"Your Highness?" You called and he lifted his head from looking down when he heard your voice and he see you, your head slightly poking in between the door to the tea room and he realized where he was. He just had a one sided, mental fight with you and he froze, he lost a mental fight by just a couple words, he rolls his eyes and massaged his temples, curling in on himself as if a scared animal, he bit his lip and closed his eyes, the shock and pain of everything that happened so far came crashing down and he covers his face while you entered the room with a worried expression "My Prince?" You called and he reached out for you, one hand in the air, with you following his action and moved to hold his hand, some of the maids that wee tasked to watch after Donghyuck watched as you helped the Prince sit up straight "What happened?"

Donghyuck knows that this is just him being a bit petty but his head was starting to ache from all of this and he still hasn't understood what the pain in his chest was. Ever since he has decided to join you in going home, the pain in his chest hurted more, the first it was he saw Lucas and you getting close then when you got hurt, then now after meeting both your brother and your boyfriend. He could brush it off but now, he can't even think straight.

The maids, once they saw the Prince curled their immediate reaction was to move towards him and make sure he was ok but you came first and had already assisted the Prince "Are you ok?" You kneeled down in front of him his hand covering his face while you held on to the other one that was reaching out, "Donghyuck?" You tried again slowly prying his hand out and away from his face only to be greeted to him crying, the tears were fresh and they wont stop, he attempted to wipe them away but they were still there.

Donghyuck tried to stop he did, of all people he doesn't want you to see him like this, but the moment that one tear dropped it all kept cascading down and he looks at you, you were kneeling and was now on the same face level as the Prince but the only thing to see was how worried you looked, opening your mouth and letting go of his hands to wipe his tears and ask what could've caused this type of reaction from the crowned prince

The tears only fell more at the sight of you worrying over him and he places his head on your shoulder and you freeze "Just for a little bit" He whispers and closes his eyes, breathing in your scent to calm himself down, he wraps one arm by your waist, knowing you won't let him do this in a normal setting, he summons all of his remaining strength so say the next words "Let me put on a show" Let me hold you while I can

"Your Highness" You whisper "My knees are starting to hurt" you whisper and he smiles softly at the words, he lifts his head just by a little bit so it will no longer be heavy on your shoulders, letting you stand

The moment you did, Donghyuck had his hand grab and hold on to your hand and pulled you to sit on his lap, despite having enough space on the sofa he was currently sitting, In all honesty Donghyuck wasn't planning on you sitting on his lap, he was tugging you to sit by his side. You yelped and he raised his hands and pulled his head away in surrender, giving you a clear view of his swollen and red eyes and tears stained cheeks. It seemed he wasn't aiming for this outcome

You shifted off he lap and sat down by his side, he lowers his head and hides it by the crook of your neck and you straightened, surprised at the boldness of the Prince "Forgive me," He whispers "until my eyes are no longer swollen, I don't want anyone to see me like this" He shifts closer and kept his hand by your waist "Public Display of one's affection makes people uncomfortable, so no one will look this way" he whispers talking about the maids who were in fact looking at everything but the two of you

"I can ask them to leave" you whispered back and he hums "Your highness?"

"I don't want anyone to see, not even you"

You sigh "Please leave" And with that the maids bowed their head and left you and The Prince alone "What happened?" you shifted away from him and he sits up and turns away

"I said I didn't want you to see" He whines and you smile

"I'm sorry" He turns to look at you, the swelling and the redness of his eyes have gone down but it was still obvious that he cried from the tears that stained his cheeks, "You were upset because of me, right?" You smile and attempted to wipe the Prince's cheeks with your hanky

Yes. "Not exactly" He answered and sighed, letting you wipes his face "I was worried about you" He answered truthfully, "I'm sorry for not protecting you and even then it caused you harm"

"I told you, Your Highness, its alr-"

"Its not alright" He cut in "You got hurt and you cried in my arms, you were so afraid that you asked if I could stay in your room for the night, and when you asked to go back home and once you did, you cried into the arms of Hendery and then lost consciousness, what part of that is alright?"

"I'm sorry-"

"And stop saying your sorry" He says and pulls away from you, holding your hand "Please, Let me take care of you, you don't have to be strong, I want you to trust me the way you trust your family, I genuinely care about you Y/n and it hurts me to see you in pain so please," he bows his head and you gasped at the action not liking to see the Crowned Prince bow his head to you, pleading "Please let me take care of you"

"Y/n" He calls once he spots heading in the direction of the lobby, after the scenario that happened this morning, this is the first time he has called for you.

After pleading Doyoung entered the tea room and Donghyuck, pulls away and stands, realizing that his words sounded exactly like a confession when he doesn't even understand his own feelings, he shakes his head, while you tilt yours cause you have no idea on what's going on "Please don't answer that" He whispers, he doesn't want to see which one'll hurt more, no and watch as you practically reject him or yes and make you choose between him and Hendery, it wasn't fair but Hendery had you first and your happy with him so who is he to take you away? "I'll call for you later, go eat breakfast" He smiles and just like it didn't look like he had a breakdown prior

"Y/n?" You blinked once the Prince snaps his fingers in front of your face "Are you ok? You're a little out of it"

You blinked and nodded "I'm ok" You smile and tilt your head "His Highness called for me?" You asked

Donghyuck tilts his head to the side and looks at the knights he has tasked to escort you "Please leave," he instructed and moved to settle beside you "Yes, I called for you, I wanted to ask about the issue about colors"

"Colors?" You asked with a slight tilt of your head

"Yes, colors" He offers his hand to lead you away, you stared at it before taking it "Its important that I get your opinion and" He pauses to bow to the knights by the door and lead you inside the ballroom and to a tray of sample colors, "Now pick"

"What for?"

"Just pick, any color at all"

"Prince Donghyuck"

"I'll tell you but pick a color first"

You pursed your lips but nodded and looked through the colors eventually picking out the color that catches your eye, and swiping it up and showing the Prince who takes it

"Pastel?" He asks to clarify if that was your chosen color, you nod and he smiles "Alright, So after I took you home and you met your family and-" he makes random hand movements to motion for the people you met at the trip "Not only were you able to blow off some steam" He hands the color to a planner "Use this as your center, find other colors that match with this but pastel" He instructs and turns to you to continue his earlier statement "I was able to encounter valuable information" He takes your hand and leads you to a table and takes some pictures of flowers "Here, I'm thinking of these flowers or would you prefer the heliotrope?" he shows you the pictures of Peonies "they'd match well with the color you chose," He nods "Lets go with Peonies" He informs and nods at the gardener

"Your Highness, forgive me but I still don't understand why I'm here"

He nods and looks at you "Not only were you able to blow off some steam" He continued, letting go of your hand and placing his in his pockets "I also received valuable information"

"Information? about how strict my brother is?"

"No" He pouts at your teasing which was met with a smile, his heart skips "Your Birthday"

You blink "This is for my birthd-" You asked but that was rhetorical no wonder he asked you for what color or flower you prefer "No, Your Highness, You can't"

"I can" He corrected " and besides the King and the Queen also ordered this, so there really is no backing out now. Good news we'll invite anyone you want, Bad news I'm inviting the other Princes and there Girlfriends so expect to be flocked"

You looked at him "Why?" You asked genuinely confused "Two weeks will end exactly after my birthday"

He nods, sadly. It was just a moment but his eyes showed nothing but sadness before he smiles "Which will be the best birthday present" He leads you out of the ball room "Don't you agree?"

"You've started to enjoy the Patio don't you?" He teases when you lead him there after eating lunch with him and sat down on the sofa a bit far from the Prince "You're always here"

"Its relaxing" You answered and relaxed into the seat and looked out into the garden "It reminds me of home"

He looks a you and watches ho your hand was placed on the skirt, your posture relaxed and calm and he smiles. He didn't realize how much he wanted to see you like that 'till he saw you

"Thank you" You said softly and looked at him and he tilts his head "For a lot of things, for taking care of me and protecting my Grandparents home," He smiles at the memory of when he first brought you to a meeting "And then that man who was making me uncomfortable, and then giving me sweets when I get upset" You laugh, Donghyuck looked away, a hand to his chest he can feel and hear the rapid beating against his chest and ears "Even that time you and I fought, you still told Yuta Oppa where my favorite shop was" He looks at you as you closed your eyes and giggled. Donghyuck was mesmerized at the sight, the afternoon sun bouncing off the patio floor and against you making it seem as if your glowing and angelic. Donghyuck paled, why is he seeing you like this? "And for protecting me against the Duchess and her daughter"

He swallowed and forced a smile "You deserve everything, I want you to be happy" He said truthfully "You don't need to say thank you to something that I'm willing to do anything for"

She nods and leaned against the sofa before smiling "Still, I'm very thankful"

He coughs and looks to the side to spot one of the butlers and he calls for him as you take your phone out when you felt a notification "Your Highness, Future Crowned Princess" He greats and you looked at him

"Crowned Princess?"

"He's not wrong" Donghyuck answers "Is that wine?"

"Yes, your Highness" He nods and starts to explain "Lord Taeyong and the King have asked for it"

"Great" Donghyuck says and motions with his hand "Get me a glass"

"Pardon?"

"You heard me"

He nods and places some wine in a glass as you leaned close to the Prince to whisper "Your Higness, its the afternoon"

He turns his head to look at you "I know"

"Here you go your Highness" the butler hands it off to the Prince

Donghyuck drinks it "Thank you and uh leave that bottle with me" You and the butler stared at the Prince's request before he nods "Get The King a new bottle" He instructed and drank wine again

"Are you ok?" You asked "Why drink at a time like this?"

"I just needed to think" He answers and you tilt your head waiting for him to elaborate but he didn't

Donghyuck was stuck in his own mind, sipping wine in between. This is insane, Why haven't I ever thought about this before? Was I that dense or in denial? Oh this is insane, I can't even think straight- "May I go out your Highness?" Your voice broke through his thoughts and he looks at you

"Yeah, where are we going?" He asks and puts the the wine down

You tried not to smile "Just me your highness"

"Nonsense," He answers and looks at you "I'll go with you"

"You have schedules tomorrow" You pointed out and he shakes his head, you chuckled and showed him your phone "you do, and Doyoung Oppa has personally tasked me to make sure you do them, You've been neglecting your duties, your highness"

"I can move them" He huffs

You laugh "You did that yesterday, I'll be ok"

"Fine," He relents "but you're taking some of the knights from Honoris"

"No Your Highness, I'm just going home again, I don't need knights from the Honoris"

"You need an escort, its either The Honoris or me?"

You pout and Donghyuck had to bite his lip to remind himself that the sight infront of him is not a dream "One Knight from Honoris then and Your Highness don't bite your lip" You scolded and he stops "The natural tint of your lips will lessen if you do that"

He blushes and takes out his phone, clearing his throat and texting someone "I'll task Sir Yangyang with you" He changes the topic

"But Sir Yangyang might-"

"He knows about the deal" He cuts off "Yanyang will protect you so you don't have to worry"

You nodded "But I wanted to say that I wanted to spend time with Hendery"

He stops and slowly nods "Yeah, of course" He slowly looks at you and forces a smile and grabbed the wine from the table "I'll inform Yangyang then" he says and takes a drink

You opened your mouth to speak when your phone rang and he rolled his eyes once he spots the caller ID: Dery💕 "Excuse me" You murmur and stood up to answer it a bit far from the Prince who refilled his glass of whine

Donghyuck looks at you and watches as the corner of your lips lifts to a smile and he takes a sip, dialing a familiar phone number and hearing ring he waits patiently for it to be answered

"Hello?" Mark says from the other line, "Wait, one second, Haegyong I swear I'm going to snarl when I meet your brother again just for the sake of seeing that face again"

"Yeah take your time" Hyuck replied

"Ok, I'm back" Mark says and Donghyuck can hear the sound of him sitting down on a chair "what's up?" Donghyuck wasn't able to reply cause the first thing he notices is you, you laughed at something Hendery said and it made Donghuck's blood boil "Hyuck?"

"Sorry, I was," He takes another gulp "thinking"

"How's Y/n? I heard about The Duchess scandal, is she ok?"

"yeah, she's ok. It scared her but she's ok"

"That's great, wait are you," Mark stops and listens to Donghyuck pouring himself another glass "Are you drinking?"

"Yeah"

"What Happened?"

Donghyuck extends his arm so Mark can hear your side of the conversation "Yeah, I asked his Highness and he allowed me to go, with an escort of course. A knight, Sir Liu Yangyang. I know you've heard of him" You laugh and coo "Hendery!" You scolded and Donghyuck places it back to his ear

"Who-?"

"Her Boyfriend"

"Oh." Mark answers and bites his lip "That's why you're drinking?"

"No"

"Then why?"

"Because my dumbass just realized how fucking stupid I am" He cries and takes another sip

"You're over exaggerating"

"No I'm not. Cause Why of all times did I have to think about it now? or why of all people its her? or why, why of all possible 'worst case scenario' I have ever thought through my head, why, why dear lord, why this?"

"Hyuck" Mark starts and Donghyuck places his phone away from his ears once he noticed You walk towards him Your phone in your hands

"My Prince, I'm a bit sleepy" You started and he nods, smiling softly at you "May I be excused?"

"Yes, you may" He answers and stands "Get some rest, I'll call you for dinner, ok?" he reaches to hold your hand to lead you to your room

You shake your head "No thank you, I can go myself" You smile

He nods again and lifts your hand to give you a small kiss on your knuckles "Alright, be careful"

"Yes I will, Thank you" You bow and left the Patio in the direction of your room, Your phone was in your hand and he could see a clear view that your call with Hendery hasn't finished yet, he bites his tongue, anything to draw the pain in his chest away

"Hyuck?" Mark's voice drew him back to reality when his eyes watched you until you disappeared from view

"Hyung" Donghyuck's voice was shaky at best and he collapsed, sitting on the chair his hands in his face "Hyung it hurts" Mark stayed quiet on the other side as he waits for Donghyuck to elaborate "I love her Hyung," He sobs quietly into his hand and Mark bites his lip at his friend's confession "Why does loving someone hurt so much? I want to keep her Hyung," He pleads "I want to marry her, and be with her but, but, but why? Everything hurts Hyung"

I’m Cold Taglist:

@staysstrays @tyongf-sunflower99 @jackyeongljin @rebel-lious-alien @daydreamiies @channiespup @jaeshark @itlittlefangirl @ncttboo @manutuankim @annetsocial @hyuckiesoftie @little-precious-baby @sunshinedhyuck

If you wanna be added, leave a comment♡♡

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skiller0dani · 4 years

Text

Obliviate | Draco Malfoy

M A S T E R L I S T Harry Potter Masterlist

very sad (light) smut requested requests info

this is so sad. I’m sorryyyyy. also if you wanted to set the mood more, I listened to THIS while writing it. Please listen to it, it wont be the same without the song lmao

Part 1/10 (Part 2)(Part 3)(Part 4)(Part 5)(Part 6)(Part 7)(Part 8)(Part 9)(Part 10)

Draco had thought back to every other time in his life where he had felt like this, and nothing came to mind. There wasn’t another second of his torturous life that felt like this. He tended to count his blessings where he had them, and you were a blessing in his life. One that he woke up every single day thanking God for, Draco isn’t sure he’d ever love anyone the way he loves you. But he knew from the start, that the two of you were doomed, two lovers caught on each side of the war. His Father in direct relation with the Dark Lord, and you- Harry Potter’s cousin. There was a target on your back from the second you got to Hogwarts all those years ago and when Draco had first met you- he didn’t understand just how much danger you were already in.

Nobody looked at Draco the way you did, nobody looked at him like he was worth saving. But when you looked at him, you saw something in him that he didn’t even see in himself. Draco believes that he was never a good person until he met you, and even then whether or not he was good is still up to debate. You inspire people to be better, to be good and if there is no good- you create it. You are a light in an everlasting darkness, and he doesn’t deserve you. But selfishly he wants to keep you- and he knows you’d never voluntarily leave him. He had to make the choice for you. You can’t stubbornly stand by his side if you don’t remember you’re in love with him.

The Black Lake looks darker than Draco remembered it being. The view he currently held from the astronomy tower was beautiful in it’s own way, but now that he held every memory you have of him in his hands- the beauty seemed to slip out of the world. Looking down at the small vial in his hands, the vial containing your memories of him, his bottom lip quivers. He can’t stand how emotional you make him, you make him feel both weak and strong at the same time. His hand curls around the vial, Draco knows this is what he needs to do. He never expected it to be this hard though.

Closing his eyes, Draco decided to take one last walk down memory lane before he would destroy your memories of him forever.

The first time you had met Draco was when you were stood on the steps next to your cousin, Harry. Draco was stood in front of you, and although his eyes were on Harry- the blush on his cheeks came from being so close to you. Draco had held his head high, even when you snapped at him and told him how wonderful you found Ron to be. Draco always admired your sharp tongue, your unwillingness to step down when you felt passionately about something. He’s going to miss being your voice of reason, or the hand that holds you back when you’re ready to literally fight for what you believe in. You always say what you’re really thinking, how you’re really feeling. That’s something Draco has never really had the strength to do. If he did he would have said he loved you more often, and perhaps would have told Harry that he doesn’t hate him.

Draco vividly remembers the first time you looked at him, and saw him in a way nobody else does. Not even Crabbe and Goyle. He was sat in the back corner of the Library, hiding away from everyone and everything after receiving yet another disappointed letter from his Father. You’d been gathering books to study for Potions when you spotted him sitting secluded, alone. You didn’t hesitate to go sit next to him, and when you looked over at him you saw every emotion he carefully hid from the world written plainly on his face. As if you had the only key to unlock the innermost parts of his brain. After a few minutes of gentle coaxing, Draco eventually began to open up to you about his Father and in return you opened up about your terrible parents. About how abusive they were to Harry- how much that hurt you. Draco hadn’t given it a second thought when you revealed you were muggle born. Really Draco didn’t mind, nor did it offend him in the way he acted it did but for his Father Draco must keep up appearances.

He still feels guilty remembering how you recoiled away from him when he had spat the word ‘mudblood’ in your direction. He feels guilty as he remembers the tears trickling down your cheeks. Even that feeling paled in comparison to the way Draco feels now.

Draco remembers the first time you kissed him, and yes much to his embarrassment it was you that kissed him. You always were someone who went after what you wanted. He was in the Hospital wing after Buckbeak attacked him. Despite him being the biggest prat you’d ever met, you still went to see him anyway. You sat next to Draco in the bed, seeing the tears well in his eyes at the revelation Buckbeak would be executed. Sure he was angry the stupid thing attacked him but never would he want Buckbeak killed for it. Draco wasn’t entirely surprised to learn his Father had threatened the committee in order for Buckbeak to be sentenced. It’s not Draco that his Father cared about, it’s the family image. You had cupped his cheeks, and gently pressed your lips to his. It was the only thing you could think to do to soothe him, and it worked. Draco melted against you, his sorrows briefly muted by the feeling of your lips on his own. He thinks he might have fallen in love with you right at that moment.

The first time you went to Hogsmeade with him was the following year, during the winter. Your cheeks were rosy and your hand was as cold as ice around his warmer palm. He remembers you squealing with excitement as it began to snow again, the soft flakes fluttering gently around you. You truly did look like an angel. The snow stuck to your hair as you turned to look at him, “make a snowman with me!” Your voice was lilted, almost melodic as the happiness you felt carried over into your tone. While Draco didn’t normally do silly things like making snowmen, he couldn’t fight the smile that split across his face as he helped you roll the bottom of the snowman. Before that moment, Draco never knew joy like that even existed. It was only later that he discovered that this kind of joy only existed when he was with you.

The first time the words ‘I love you’ graced the space between your lips was when you’d both met at the astronomy tower at midnight. The stars were twinkling beautifully, but even so Draco couldn’t keep his eyes off you. You blushed, refusing to meet his eye. You were always insecure, which baffled Draco immensely. How could you believe any other girl is anywhere close to being as pretty as you? There’s not another woman on the face of this Earth that compares to you, and you would often giggle and tell him to stop when he would begin his long ‘you’re the most beautiful girl’ rant. You had led Draco to believe, that maybe he and Harry could find peace. You were in fact, the only thing they had in common. The words fell right out of his mouth before he could pause to give them any thought. “I love you,” The air seemed to stiffen around him, crushing him as he watched you. You didn’t hesitate.

“I love you Draco.” It was the best moment of his life.

Draco will never forget the first time he was allowed to see the beauty of your bare skin. You’d think it would be easier to find places to be alone in this great big castle, eventually Draco had settled for the edge of the Black Lake- far from the castle. The journey out to the Lake had started innocently, the both of you quite enjoyed star gazing and spending your evenings together. You’d been sitting next to him, watching the large tentacles of the monster that lives in the Lake toss you things from the depths. You really did have a way in bringing out the good in everything, you’d even managed to befriend the monster that lives in the Lake. “Wow look at this,” your voice was quiet with amazement as you turned over a beautiful amulet in your hands. It was simple, silver chain with a white gem that shone as brightly as the moon. The Lake monster had given it to you, and Draco remembers the soft sigh that left your lips as his hands graced the back of your neck, fastening the amulet.

Draco remembers the delicate way you turned to face him, how your eyes never left his as you carefully slid onto his lap. Your hands were placed on his shoulders as your lips met in a slow and languid kiss. The searing heat built between you two and seemed to draw your most intimate parts together. Without realizing, you’d begun to gently grind against Draco- drawing out soft moans from his lips. Never before had Draco felt this kind of desire for another person. His hands slid up your back and carefully removed each layer of clothing that was in between him and your bare skin. Your skin was flushed as Draco’s lips explored your naked body, carefully turning you over so that he would hover above you. You gripped fistfuls of the grass as Draco had found his home in between your legs, laving your sensitive folds with his tongue and mouth. It felt like heaven, and he knew it did. He could see it on your face, and you looked so beautiful.

The desire burning inside you began to beat between your legs like a drum as you pulled Draco back up your body. Nuzzling his nose against yours, Draco slipped the head of his member in between your folds. The thought of hurting you made him feel sick to his stomach, but with a few gentle words of encouragement from you, he was gently working himself inside your tight heat. The feeling was incomparable, indescribable, suffocating, and intoxicating all at the same time. Draco knew that here on the grass, between your legs, was somewhere he wanted to be forever. If he could capture this moment in something more than his minds eye he would, he wants this memory to live forever. He rocked into you again and again, losing himself in the way your body felt against his. Never had Draco felt so connected to another person, you had him, mind body and soul. He was falling into that pit now, no doubt about it, and there was no way out. He was head over heels in love, not that he minded.

Draco would do anything to keep you safe, and he really means that.

Draco had grown distant from you this year, mostly because of the swirling black tattoo on his left forearm. The Dark Mark. He knew in an instant that you had to stay as far from him as humanly possible, and while he tried to stay away, he was weak and kept falling back into your embrace. He needed to convince you to stay away from him, and if he couldn’t...then he had to make you. You’d confronted him this evening, with tears in your eyes and a tremble in your hands. You wanted, needed, to know what was going on. Why he felt so far away from you. So Draco pressed a kiss to your forehead, took your hand, and led you here. To the Astronomy tower, a place where so many monumentous things happened between you. This would be the perfect place to say goodbye.

You staggered back when he lifted his sleeve. The breath was stolen from your lungs when you saw the Dark Mark, writhing and wriggling on his arm. Tears built in your eyes as you looked at him, his name falling past your broken lips. How could this have happened? How could he let this happen? You wanted to scream, to tear your hair out, to cry, to do anything but your body wouldn’t let you. You simply stood frozen before him, feeling as though the most powerful force in the world was tearing the two of you apart. The next words out of his mouth shattered you beyond repair.

“You need to stay away from me, for your own good. And for Harry’s.” It was the first time he’d ever used Harry’s first name, that’s how you knew he really meant this. But you couldn’t, you loved Draco with every ounce of your heart, how could you leave him? You shook your head vehemently, tears now free falling down your cheeks. “I-I can’t.” You gasped, watching a pained expression cross onto Draco’s face. He didn’t want to do this, he really didn’t want to do this but the thought of you getting tortured or killed by Voldemort replays in his mind. He couldn’t put you in danger, not for something so selfish, not because he loves you. It’s because he loves you that he’s willing to let you go, that he’s willing to make this sacrifice if it means keeping you safe.

When he turns to you again, his wand is raised and the look on his face is one you’ve never seen before. His hand is trembling, his eyes look hollow and his mouth is quivering. He looks desperate, he looks distraught, but most of all, he looks broken. “Draco,” You whisper, tears in your eyes as you look up at him, your hand finding the railing behind you. “You have to stay away from me.” Draco gasps, desperately fighting tears.

“Please don’t do this.” Your voice is weak, you know what’s coming next. You’re smart enough to connect the dots.

Draco’s hand wavers, “I have to.” His voice is final, but his body looks as though it’s falling apart. Thoughts of him facing what he must face, without your love, sends panic through your chest. He’ll have to endure the pain, the struggles, all of it, alone. You want to be there for him, you don’t care about the danger. Draco knows you don’t, that’s why he has to do this.

“Baby please, I love you.” You cry desperately, and Draco feels his heart burning to dust in his chest as he looks down at you. “I love you too.” He breathes, closing his eyes and steeling his nerves for what he is going to do next. “Draco!” Your voice comes out as a cry of desperation, and you lurch forward. But Draco is faster.

“Obliviate.” He whispers the word into the open air, watching as you halt, your tearful eyes locked on his. “Draco,” You whisper as a light of blue slips from your head and into the tip of Draco’s wand. Your hands drop to your sides, and your eyes fall flat, looking through him now, seeing him as everyone else does. Your face is empty, expressionless as you watch him. Lowering his wand, Draco slips your memories into the vial as you blink in confusion before sending him a nervous smile. You look around briefly, before reaching over to grab your coat. You brush past Draco without looking at him again, offering a hollow ‘goodnight’ over your shoulder as you go. Draco feels empty, emptier than he ever has. It’s only now that he lets a tear slide down his cheek.

His hands were shaking as he leaned over the railing, the cool wind chilling him. The view laid out before him doesn’t hold any beauty in it anymore, and it feels as though all the color has drained from the world. Grasping the vial tightly in his hand, Draco squeezes his eyes shut before throwing it as hard as he could over the edge of the astronomy tower. He watches with bleary eyes as the vial of your memories, the vial containing your love for him disappears into the Black Lake. This is the right thing to do, but Draco can’t fight how wrong it feels. He knows now that he’ll never be the same, but he turns anyway. Straightens his suit, wipes his tears, and begins the journey back to his common room.

#draco malfoy #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy smut #draco x reader #draco x you #harry potter #harry potter smut #hogwarts #sad smut #Sad Imagine #obliviate #gentle smut #bittersweet

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solomonish · 3 years

Text

no mistakes, only happy (magical) accidents

CW: none!

hehe hello, nonnie! you are so nice and it’s always a joy to have you stop by even if we’ve only exchanged a few messages <3 this was getting kinda long so I stopped it before it got to making things official BUT. maybe when i’m feeling up to it i’ll write a part 2. I do hope you don’t mind! it wasn’t boring at all! i get burnout really easy so i had to keep it to hc but this would make a really nice fic! (i also went a biiit off script but what can i say, i got a specific inspiration <3)

Solomon

Despite being banished and the bad blood he has with the heads of the institution, Solomon still finds himself at the Sorcerer's Society. Frequently.

Sometimes he is invited, his unrivaled knowledge and experience needed in some stuffy decision making progress. Others, he just slips in, sometimes through the front door and sometimes through more deceitful ways. All he does is observe, occasionally borrowing a specific book or artifact. The people in charge know about this, but so long as he returns the items unscathed and in a timely manner, they turn a blind eye. Best not to cause a ruckus where there doesn't need to be one.

Thanks to this little system, Solomon doesn't normally interact with any of the people he comes across. On the occasions he is recognized, there's always some awkward, half-baked attempt at confrontation, so he keeps to himself and only ever gets what he needs.

He's tucked in a shadowy corner of one of the libraries, searching for a book, when he hears it. Two witches whispering about a strange increase in magic in their area.

"For that long? Have you gone to check it out?"

"No, I never have the time. I just hope it isn't something dangerous."

"Well, does it feel dangerous?"

"No, but it is...strong."

"So you're just going to leave it for someone else to take care of?"

"When you hear a wolf's howl, do you head directly towards it?" As the two head out, Solomon hides himself further behind the bookshelf. He doesn't know exactly who the witches are, but he does know about where they're from, and that's all he needs.

Fun! He’s been looking into magical anomalies in the human realm recently!

so he’s checking out the area those witches are from, not really sure he knows what he’s looking for, but looking all the same. there is definitely a magical pull, but it feels.....off. he’s expecting something natural, like a small, hidden waterfall with waters that can be used for potions that elongate the natural lifespan, or a cave with an endless supply of crystals that can be used to double enchantment strength with half the effort.

but then he finds you instead after you managed to cause a small implosion in a cavern he was standing right next to but hadn’t noticed. if he hadn’t heard your shriek, he wouldn’t have bothered helping clear the rubble.

but he did hear you, and he pulled you out of the cave, watching you gracelessly fall on the grass and pat your sides to check for your belongings.

now, sometimes there’s a certain energy between human magic wielders that is just palpable. it isn’t a fool-proof way to know who can practice magic, but especially strong sorcerers can pick up on them more easily and especially unwieldy or inexperienced ones are often easier to pick up on. Solomon seems to be the former, and you...

He doesn’t mean to sound haughty, but he can’t help but ask who taught you how to cast your spells and WHAT DO YOU MEAN you’re using WHICH flowers for your spells?

Maybe it’s your pride, but your indignant “well what would YOU do?” was not meant to turn into a regular thing.

Hey, when you’re self-taught you tend to take a lot of shortcuts. And Solomon isn’t normally the type to just pick up random apprentices off the street, but he falls into teaching so easily. So maybe that day you spend the rest of it revising your spellcasting tactics, and maybe he finally leaves with an invitation to visit. And maybe he visits sooner than you’d expect.

You’re definitely not complaining, though. It’s good to not feel so alone in your magic and have a second head to bounce ideas off of. Plus, you’ve only grown more efficient with his help!! You hope the tea and meals you provide him with is payment enough.

Sometimes, he doesn’t just visit for a day. Sometimes he’s there for a few days, teaching you a few spells and stocking up on potions you’ve made that you offer him, glad for the company. he doesn’t visit every week - sometimes, it’s months between the times you see each other, but each time you fall into an easy rhythm and it’s nice!

You tell him about the area you live in, different local specialties that really enhance the ability of your potions and spells, and he tells you about his adventures throughout his life. there’s never a moment where you don’t know what to say - and everything he has to say is so interesting!

probably the most emotional moment you two have had is when you brought up extending your life. he went stiff, and started asking twenty questions before stumbling over his words and asking none of them. you asked him what was wrong, and he didn’t answer.

instead, he gave you the typical talk you’d expect - “are you willing to watch your friends and loved ones die? to watch humanity move on without you?” - and you answer cautiously like “yeah, and also this potion should theoretically only give me a few extra decades”

he sighs, and urges you that if you must live longer, never fall for the trap of immortality. he only gives you half-sentences that don’t make sense, but you promise him you wont anyway.

“be careful. the human mind can barely take what it was naturally given.”

he leaves solid answers unspoken, but you can add it all up.

and after that, the two of you just seem. closer? there’s something about opening up about your trauma that really brings two people together

so you do end up extending your lifespan, though not by much - you still aren’t powerful enough to give yourself over 150 years AT BEST, but you and Solomon stay in touch. and you both keep getting stronger.

eventually, though, it’s time to step into the magical world and start showing up places with him. You aren’t a unit, but you travel like one, and people start to notice.

at first, you’re asked all the time if you’re his apprentice, and you laugh it off and say “no, i just ask a lot of questions.” then you get the logical next step - “oh, are you two dating?”

it took you that long to notice that you had a crush MC good job

every time someone asks about it, you get flustered without a doubt. Solomon takes it in stride, which, ouch, but you sort of withdraw and your face feels hot. So it really bothers Solomon when people ask because you’re out of commission for a while and the two of you are pals :( you do stuff together on purpose

but now that it’s on your MIND you can’t SHAKE the idea of dating him.....you already know him so well....he’s spent long periods of time at your place.....you work well together......you wouldn’t mind kissing him......oh damn

it’s one of those “everybody can see it except for him” situations, and you start overthinking it. big time. it doesn’t help that you were sort of a recluse before he came along so what experience do you have with it??

none. the answer is none. and boy does it show when you get to the point where you can barely have a full conversation without turning red because your thoughts betrayed you AGAIN.

you’re really regretting that life-elongating potion, huh, MC?

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me swd #swd obey me #obey me solomon #swd solomon #solomon #solomon x reader #obey me solomon x reader #swd solomon x reader #mine #solomon hcs

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germvity · 3 years

Text

rises the moon

leon s kennedy x reader // 3 // hell's comfort

"come sit down, jill. we'll explain." leon gestures to the cot as you rest your head on his bicep. "sure." jill shrugs, following the two of you in, and settling down on the other end of the makeshift bed. when leon sits with his back against the wall, you curl up into his side, still uncertain of jill's company as the blonde speaks to her about what he's gathered so far.

genre: angst with comfort, fluff <3

tags: leon being a sweetie/protective, he wants to help, jill still may be ooc im sorry :(, big bully david >:(, there will be bullying in this chap, the entity (tm), leon literally being a big puppy, cuddles!, biggie slow burn. the entity literally just vibing. handcuffs 🥵, fighting

warnings: bullying + violence, fighting, crying, angst

---

jill had left to think already, leaving the two of you alone. both she and leon wanted to help you, but you don't know how they could when it was you (and leon) against the world here. "c'mon, you must be hungry." leon smiles, offering you his hand when he gets up. "not really.." you mumble, avoiding his soft gaze. "really? you haven't eaten since... well i'm not sure but you haven't eaten yet! let's keep your strength up." leon says, taking your smaller hand in his and leading you in the direction of the campsite. "wait! i don't wanna go there..!" you cry, jerking backwards to your shack, pulling leon with you. "okay, okay." leon grabs your arms to give them soothing rubs as he hushes you incase anyone hears your panic. "you wait in the shack, and i'll go get us some food, yeah?" the officer smiles but you refuse to let him go so easily. "can't we wait a little longer..?" you pout and leon sighs. "no, i'm making it my duty to take care of you, and that includes making sure you eat." he says, letting go of you to take your hands. "i'll keep you safe. i promise." you can't help but give in, following leon towards the campsite reluctantly.

you tense at the sight of the others, but they didn't see you or leon, too busy wrapped up in conversations. "come on whilst they're unaware." leon whispers, leading you to the fake kitchen area the entity had set up. a pot of oatmeal bubbled, and you grimaced at the sight and smell of it. "hmm.. there has to be something around here..." leon hums to himself, letting go of you to search around. "leon.." you whine at the sound of footsteps, grabbing his arm to hide behind him. "what?" he whispers back, turning to the door where claudette stood.

leon's stomach sank as she stared at you. she opened her mouth to say something but leon cut her off. "please, don't tell the others. we're just getting some food and we'll leave." he raises his hand as if claudette was a feral animal, trying to show that neither of you were a threat. claudette hesitates, glancing over her shoulder at the campsite before looking back at the two of you. "david!" she called, and leon cursed under his breath. "i'm sorry..." she whispers before leaving. "what?!" the brit yells, his eyes darkening at the sight of you and leon. "well, well.. look who's in our camp." he spits, crossing his arms. your breathing picks up and you grasp leon's sleeve tightly. "david." leon straightens up his posture, pulling you fully behind him. "what ya got there, rookie?" david taunts, jumping to try and get to you but leon moves with him, hiding you affectively. "leave them alone, king." leon demands, voice harsh.

the fighter laughs loudly, and your stability crumbles at the sight of the whole camp staring at you. "leon.." you whisper, voice wavering. "where've you two been anyway? off fucking somewhere i presume." david sneers, trying to take another lunge at leon, but the officer is quicker, still trying to keep you away from your harasser. "leon..!" you whimper again but it falls on deaf ears as leon argues with david. "you're wrong actually. unlike you i actually care for the people around me. that's why i'm a much better person than you." leon shoots back, and david snaps, swinging for the blonde.

leon ducks, pushing you out the way as he tackles david. the fight escalates as the camp gathers round, some cheering on leon whilst the majority egged on david. "leon!" you yelp, shrinking back with cowardice despite your burning desire to help him. you gasp as arms tighten around your waist, pulling you away from the fight. "leon!" you wail again, catching the blonde's attention as he punches david. "y/n!" leon yells, going to scramble after you but is stopped by david grabbing his ankle and pulling him back for more.

twisting around, leon's boot found david face as he kicks the other man away, turning back around to scramble to get you, but you were already gone. "shit." leon hisses, not seeing how jill was running off in your direction. david's nose poured with blood as he groans, getting up to swing at leon. catching his wrist, the blonde quickly detains the fighter, handcuffing him before stumbling off into the tree line to try and find you.

you whimper as jake sets you down on a fallen tree, letting him ruffle your hair. "you alright?" he asks softly, and you shake your head no. "uhh..." jake glances back at the campsite through the trees. "hold it, asshole!" a female voice snaps, and jill emerges through the brush. "jill!" you yelp, getting up to latch onto your new friend. "cool, i was just leaving." jake shrugs, trudging back to the camp. "are you alright." jill asks as she glares at jake. "leon... where's leon?" you whimper as jill sits you back down. "don't worry about him, are you alright?" jill asks, cupping your face with her hands, wiping away any tears with her thumbs. "y/n! jill! thank god." leon gasps as he hurries to you. "are you alright?" leon asks desperately as he searches you for wounds. "they seem fine, just a bit shaken." jill answers for you. you cling to leon tightly, crying against his neck as he scoops you into his arms. "it's alright. i'm okay. i'm sorry that went down, i should of had you wait in your shack." leon sighs, holding you tight. "i'm gonna go check on everyone, try and keep the peace." jill stands, ruffling leon's hair before leaving. "thanks." leon calls after her and the woman only salutes over her shoulder as she walks away.

"leon.." you whisper, voice hoarse. "i'm here." the blonde assures you, pulling away to wipe your tears. "i'm sorry he did this to you.." you frown, cupping leon's bruised face as shakes his head. "don't apologise for that asshole." leon says sternly. "it wouldn't of happened if i wasn't there! i'm sorry." you whimper, pressing your forehead against leon's for comfort as he sighs. "none of this is your fault. i'm gonna fix all of this, alright?" leon whispers, pulling your head away from him as he looks at you. you look unsure, but nod. you trust him fully and he knows it. he also knows that you both have the same idea, and leon can't help but sneak a glance at your lips as you grow a little closer to him. "leon..?" you mumble, and he smiles, pulling you a closer and closer.

"my sincerest apologies for interrupting, but i have some news." a shadowy voice interrupts and the two of you jump, leon pulling you into his chest protectively. "who's there?" he demands, searching for the voice. "i'm here." the entity purrs, deep voice rumbling in your ears. "no one is in trouble. it was quite amusing to watch your performance but mr. kennedy..." the god trails off as leon looks up at the dark sky. "i'm sorry to say that your handcuffs are being confiscated until i know you wont do this again." it says, dangling leon's cuffs above his head with a sharp claw. "i won't. i was forced to." leon reminds the entity that he started nothing, and you can practically hear the entity thinking. "i suppose so, but it is still unacceptable." the entity says, voice ever so calm. "what, and bullying your teammates isn't?!" leon snaps, standing to try and snatch his handcuffs back. "mr. kennedy..." the voice warns as it raises his handcuffs higher. "you're a monster. an absolute joke. when i figure out how to kill you, i swear-"

"mr. kennedy." the entity silences him with a firm snap and leon falls into silence. you glance at him nervously as more claws descend, grasping leon out of your hold and hauling him up like he weighed nothing.. "might i remind you that nothing can kill me. i am a god. i am your god. your pathetic little threat won't go unnoticed but for now i'm feeling generous as you are new, and most newcomers feel the same way." the entity's voice sends chills down your spine as you stare at leon anxiously. "i will grant you your handcuffs after fifteen successful trials. then you shall receive them. until then, i shall bid you farewell." the entity suddenly drops the blonde who lands on his back with a pained grunt.

"asshole.." leon hisses as the entity takes it's leave. "leon! are you alright." you rush to pamper the blonde as he sits up. "i'm fine, don't worry." leon flushes red, getting up and offering you his hand. "come on, lets get some rest, hm?" he smiles, and you take his hand to follow him into the woods.

#leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy #dbd leon #dbd #dbd x reader #dead by daylight #dead by daylight resident evil #germvity writing

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papers4me · 3 years

Text

Fruits Basket, Se3, ep11 (part 1)

Breaking toxic bonds & accepting healthy ones isn’t a miracle. A bond that started with love could end up chained & toxic, another that started wrong could’ve become the joy of a life time. You can do it. Break the cycle of abuse & stand up for yourself, it is easy yet so difficult, you aren’t alone, tho, loved ones stand nearby cheering. Be kind on yourself, otherwise you’ll throw your life away. Life isn’t just happiness & joy, it’s also sadness & loneliness. Break free from the shackles that held you down. Embrace life & Live.

-Tohru’s “ I’m okay” mask is finally shattered! (the Importance of kyo’s rejection for her development):

This is the last part of tohru’s character development! The last few eps were abt her role in Akito’s redemption & their similarities. she staood up for herself & choose a path away from her mom while keeping her mom’s memory in a healthy manner. No more planning my life according to mom’s wishes, no more talking to mom ‘s picture 24/7. Now, I’ll plan my life & move forward even if it is with the guy mom said she cant forgive. even If it is without him, I’ll move forward. I love him so much, yet I won’t force our bond & let go. So easy yet so difficult!. tohru doesnt know anything abt kyo after her fall. All she remembers is his heart-broken face as he wept beside her. Those tears on his face, she caused them. He cried cuz it is too painful to see her hurt. She was a burden to him! tohru restored to her old coping mechanism of pretending “ i’m Okay” & smiling. She did so numerous times before. Always worked. No one noticed. Except him. Se02, ep7. he urged her to show her true fears. Now, she’s faced with a pain so big she can’t pretend no more. the pain of loosing him. She cried in front of yuki! The smile & chatting abt chores couldn’t conceal the running tears! Yuki’s first time seeing her like that. Se01, ep14, yuki wondered how could tohru smile after her mom’s death. She can’t pretend no more! She’ll have to wear her feelings on her sleeve! cuz it IS ok to do so! She tells kyo to give her a moment to compose herself. She couldn’t lie & pretend like she did with yuki. Here she either run away or just try to compose myself! I LOVE THAT! This way, whenever kyo/tohru fight or have any misunderstanding in the future as a couple, you’ll know tohru won’t just bear it & pretend, “ i;m okay” No! she’ll talk to kyo & express herself! I LOVE THIS SO MUCH! It gives her so much strength as a human & I’m happy all the obstacles & set backs in kyo/tohru’s romantic journey has led them to be better ppl little by little to build healthier & more realistic love!

-The mechanics of writing a compelling slow-burn romance:

1. Igniting the romantic feelings slowly: Slow burns don’t work with love at 1st sight. It must first sparkle naturally, slowly & subtly. Both kyo & tohru repeatedly stated they don’t know exactly when they first fell in love. The author’s decision to create an environment where the two live together is a genius way to start & nurture their romance quietly & subtly. Kyo was tricked to stay in shigure’s house while tohru had to stay cuz she had no home, Natural reasons that force the two to spend days together & get to know each other gradually.

2. Dynamics of their personalities: For slow burns to work, the two characters need to be similar yet opposites! Kyo & tohru are both kind, endearing, innocent, good at chores, independent & hardworking. They both have history with their mothers that is filled with love yet traumas. However, tohru is calm yet prefer maneuvering around subjects, can’t stand up for herself, reads ppl easily, tends to trust ppl easily & disregard herself. Kyo is fierce, strong, tends to distrust ppl, despite ppl loving his spontaneous character, he has hard time figuring out if they’re mocking him or teasing him, very straightforward with his words & actions. The similarities helps them understand each other, however, the differences creates chances to clash & come even closer thro various situation. Ex, se01, ep2, kyo apologizing for hitting her head with the table which created the situation where she needed to confess she always loved the cat zodiac! It is HER gush of emotions that struck kyo. ppl really want my friendship? the cat is loved? Thro those difference they learned to better themselves so they won’t hurt the other, kyo toning down his anger for her, tohru desiring to know him even more as he becomes even more awkward.

3. Creating natural, realistic & convincing obstacles that prevents them from being together: This is the most important part! Slow-burn is two characters in love & cant be together despite everyone wanting them to be! if the reason that stops them from uniting is trivial, stupid, one-sided, can easily be solved, then the slow-burn would be a fillery & no one would cheer for it! Takaya-san is a genius!

Kyo can’t be with tohru cuz he thinks (a) he killed her mom! we saw thr flashback, he could’ve saved her & couldn’t save her. It was a split of a second difference & he hates himsef for NOT trying! that split of a second also prevented from thinking of better ways to save her than holding her! it happened to fast, he couldn't think of a better alternative cuz this was his 2nd time loosing someone (b) his mom’s sucide being pinned as his fault created this immense guilt & defeated feeling that “ no matter what, I just cause death & misery! There’s (c) too!, he knew tohru! thinks she deserves the world & cuz he didnt save her mom, he watched tohru talk to a freaking picture for two years! heck! he is the only one who can see thro tohru’s “ i;m okay” mask, so in se01, ep 14 in the grave yard! kyo wasnt the only one who is sad! tohru was too! & kyo could tell! (d) her mom’s death is the reason tohru is accepting shigure’s offer to stay with them rent-free in exchange of doing housework! (e)? he saw her confess crying her heart out abt missing her mom so much that she imitated her dad! so tragicly sad! (f) he saw her die in his nightmare!! how can he accept her love,now? Perfectly orchestrated obstacles!

Tohru, unfortunately, in the anime it wasn't that clear due to shortening her backstories & trauma in se03, ep6. But she too couldn’t see herself confessing love to kyo. Tohru is has low self-esteem, always thinks she’s a burden to others, an orphan who just wants her mom, so scared, lonely & sad! we the audience believed the mask! we saw her work her motherly charm yuki, isusuz, kisa & believe her issues are not that deep. tohru wont cry for herself but shed rivers for others! grief is so ugly it broke her! I cant let go of mom, must keep her always in my heart, such a hard emotions to write & I believe 100% the director couldn’t understand her grief & decided to split ep6 between her, kyo, isuzu & shigure. But Tohru struggling to confess to kyo is no laughing matter. ppl who are grieving find it the hardest to live after the loved ones die. they wont mostly commit suicide, they are alive, but they arent living. they just go thro the motions & live for the sake of those around them but not themselves. Tohru deciding to confess to kyo is her deciding to live for herself.

4. Writing a perfect psychologically & emotionally packed climax: I dont need to explain how perfect kyo’s rejection of tohru in se03 ep9 was. How much we felt for him yet were mad at him. He we were “ ugh! kyo no!!!! I mean I get why you do that , but you idiot no! come back! poor kyo! He was just so sad & broken! OMG he’ll kill himself after finding tohru’s injured body!! he totally would! his nightmare came true! But Tohru reached him! she wanted him to be okay! he wont kill himself but still feels hella guilty! but so utterly in love with her that his instinct upon seeing her come to life after near death is kiss her! Perfect display of psychology & emotions! filled with right, wrong, sad, happy, guilty, innocent! basically so human~ As the audience you MUST have this mixture of feelings of wanting to hug him so bad cuz this boy has been killing himself for years now yet want him to stop & just see that he was a good boy afterall. Tohru is THE best girl & if the audience are cheering for kyo to be with her, kyo really deserves her! The only problem is for kyo to see that now.

5. The Perfect wrap up of all romance: If you make your audience suffer the slow-burn this long, you gotta reward them good! & Takaya-san delivered! Just like how the entire romantic story is realistic, the reunion must be as realistic too! Tohru is hurt by kyo;s words. Facts remain his words were hurtful to her. I love that was addressed! tohru gets to tell her side, too! If you love someone, you are bound to be hurt by them as much as be happy with them. Simply cuz they matter so much to you! you arent one person, but two ppl coming together. Kyo must work hard for this confession. Must run & chase her. Must earn her proper! He gets on his knees, I cant express how important that is! he is way taller than her, Imagine apologizing while she looks way up & he looks down? He gets on his knees & apologize like a man, for every mistake, all while not loathing himself. He aint going back to that deep abyss again. He did wrong by her & he is owning up to his mistakes. Give me one chance. I’m not gonna force you with persistence or guilt you into taking me. Give me ONE chance cuz i deserve it & no more. The choice is yours. She asks to confirm, he shows her, they kiss, they hug, they are rewarded with a blessing from the heavens! One of the most simple yet emotionally fulfilling confessions in anime!

- Hugs over kisses: (And her kiss hugs her & the curse was lifted):

Prince charming kisses the princess & she wakes up~ they live ever after~ except furuba is all abt “ eternal ever after is not true, real life is where the real love is”

Kyo kissed tohru once, she didnt wake up, she didnt even think he loved her back. didnt even remember the kiss.

Kyo hugged tohru once. se01, e024, He initiated it, tohru was all in tears, surprised, happy & so utterly in love. he called her name for the first time ever, for a brief moment, they both connected, they both comforted each other. The rain stopped, he became a man not a monster, she got him back. She got her kyo that she fought for with none other than kyo himself.

kyo hugged her again, se03, ep6. They both initiated it. He made the first move, pulling her just a little closer, she made the second move & hugged him hard, he transformed, it was a moment were they both connected, both so sad & broken, both feeling needy for the other, both desperate for the other, both just living the moment. the result is them coming closer, her wanting him more, him realizing her love, there is no escape. Admit it. she loves you. You can tell.

Kyo hugs her again today. He asks permission. No spur of the moment feeling. But a long lasting permission to be together. To hug. He wants to hear her acceptance of his cursed body. “ is ok to hug you? this body will cause you pain as it wont be able to fulfill your wishes of constant hugs & intimacy”. She responds, permission granted, for love, for hugs, for a life long acceptance of you as a whole. weakness & strength, sadness & happiness. I accept you all in better & worse! we’re invincible. Why? cuz we understand love isnt magic. It is a path for us to walk together~~~ reward curse break!

Every time kyoru are closer it is a hug. The one thing the zodiacs cant do. A hug. They can kiss. But cant hug. comes this Zodiac Ruler girl so lonely, away from ppl, so sad, meets a cat boy who comes to the house she’s living in, a house away from ppl, the boy is drawn to the girl, However, when the boy needed to leave, the girl was able to let go despite loving him, the boy comes again, this time wanting to stay, the girl accepts the boy. They both accept the realistic reality of life. Embrace the obstacles & the achievements, celebrates the weakness above the strength. Both so imperfect. Both so endearingly dumb! that’s why the girl’s hug broke the boy’s curse. The girl’s acceptance of the cat broke all curses.

Side Note:

Kyo’s confession is so kyo! so straightforward, so direct, & so physical. He’s on his knees, holding her hands, looking at her eyes. “ i want to be WITH you. If I’m gona live, I want to to do it with you & no one else! cuz I love you” that’s it. That’s all. So sincere & so romantic!

it is crazy how different tohru & kyo are now after the confession! she stood confidently & happily & said “dont you know, I love you!” all while teasing him, her giggle is so girlish & cute! my girl is a happy woman in love! long buried the angelic mother image of se02! YES! also, kyo’s happy face is love! Dude! when was the last time he smiled so freely? Did he ever do that? He smiled in se01, ep4 with kazmua, but not like this! T_T. my son is healing~

Kyo’s “ i wont ever feel afraid if you’re with me” is a huge growth from his “ I want to protect her” mindset. Now he realizes it is two-sided mutual desire. She gives him strength as much as he does! <3

I dont like open eye while kissing, but here it is so perfect for tohru in this moment! cuz she spent days thinking kyo rejected her & even ran away as soon as she saw him, now he’s not only confessing, apologizing, admitting she is his life, but also kissing her signaling they’re romantic couple. kissing on lips is so personal, what more evidence she needs? still, her thoughts? “ it’s like a dream?” aww~~~ tohru~~~ my precious girl! she just cant believe all her suffering is over, now? She was just practicing “ i’m okay” smile & now she’s an official girlfriend to the man of her dreams? He just bent da kneeee~ go for it queen!

yuki’s face when tohru cried is exactly what I meant of “ allowing yuki to have strong facial expressions”! XD these types of faces humanize yuki so much into the teenage boy he is! Unfortunately the anime team only sees him as the pretty prince in most times. That’s why fave yuki is when he’s with kakeru. He becomes so un-princly as he should be.

Speaking of yuki, I see you anime team~ postponing his moment into next ep so him & machi wont be overshadowed by the long awaited kyoru!! While this defies the perfection of all cursed zodiacs breaking on the same ep making akito’s breakdown less perfect & poetic, I take it as the anime team admitting they underdeveloped yuchi & decided let’s give them more screen time & not putting them in close distance from any couple. A week later ep is enough with lots of time. I dont mind at all, I’m just saying more time after/while confession is not what i was hoping for~~ sigh~ At least I hope yuki would say sth along the lines” all this time I was looking at you, i realized i love you” to imply he was thinking of her as a lover not his kindness for someone he helped. I just dont want their love to be sudden simply cuz yuki needs happy ending. oh well~ I’m sure whatever it will be, the anime will give it utmost attention.

That sad moment when kagura wasnt allowed a moving image. lol. girl was given a still image that didnt even move with the breeze! T_T

Not gonna lie... the scene with kazuma & kyo was underwhelming. Why the wide shot? I mean you dont need budget for that. Just give me a closeup from the waist up with kyo head buried in kazuma’s chest. Dont need to waste budget on kazuma’s face, either.... do the old trick of hair covering eyes & show me glittery tears~ why the awkward shot of kazma towering in his own house! how tall is this man & why cant he he fix his roof?...lol

Also, shigure, you got scars man... who can hurt shigure? akito? gotta be her. I dont think hatori scratches...lol.. Aya? nah~ too busy with Mine! yup, akito... another steamy night? could be, she’s changed as he wish now. But scratching a face is weird while..um..kissing? a quarrel? but why? I bet she wants him now & we know he wants her....

More on part 2! especially abt the curse’s lore~

#Fruits Basket #Anime Only #happy paper #final season #part 1

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onecanonlife · 3 years

Text

careful son (you got dreamer's plans)

Wilbur gasps back to life with mud between his fingers and rain in his eyes.

Wilbur was dead. Now, he is not. He can't say that he's particularly happy about it.

Unfortunately, the server is still as tumultuous as ever, even with Dream locked away, so it seems that his involvement in things isn't a matter of if, but when.

(Alternatively: the prodigal son returns, and a broken family finally begins to heal. If, that is, the egg doesn't get them all killed first.)

Chapter Word Count: 7,618

Chapter Warnings: swearing, referenced past suic.ide, description of past injury, scars, discussion of c!Wilbur’s overall terrible mental health

Chapter Summary: In which Phil and Wilbur finally sit down and have a talk. They both have things to say that the other needs to hear.

(masterpost w/ ao3 links)

(first chapter) (previous chapter) (next chapter)

Chapter Eighteen: quiet now

They do come up with a plan. A simple one, as far as plans go, but that means less moving parts, less things to go wrong. Sometimes a simpler plan is better. And considering the effort it takes to get them all there, to get them all on the same page, he’ll accept it. But night has fallen by the time they figure it all out,

(and by that time his throat is hoarse and his hands are shaking so he shoves them into his pockets and Tommy keeps shooting him looks and Phil is doing the same and Techno is kind of hovering a bit but he ignores them because he’s fine and he keeps his shoulders straight his shoulders straight set and straight so that no one looks at him and sees his exhaustion the way he’s crumbling and he tells himself that he’s not and that he’s alright that this is nothing but he’s not sure he believes himself anymore and that in itself is terrifying because if he’s not alright then he has to confront the dark confront what he does not want to confront so he tells himself he’s alright but the walls are cracking they’re cracking)

so they’ll set it all in motion in the morning. For now, they retire to bed. Almost all of them; Eret says she’ll keep watch by the gates. Once, he wouldn’t have trusted her word. He’s not sure that he does, even now. But he doesn’t object, and neither does anyone else, so.

It’s night. He should sleep. He is even aware that he needs to sleep, that he’s been dealing with a pounding headache ever since just after the last time he let Schlatt materialize, that every so often his vision swims for no apparent reason. He needs to sleep, because he’s no use to anyone like this, not if he can’t wield a weapon, whether physical or verbal, and he used all the rest of his energy on getting through the rest of the meetings. The collaboration. The planning. The day, plain and simple.

He knows when he’s running on fumes.

Eret gave him a room. She gave everyone a room. Because she has a bloody enormous castle, with rooms to spare. So he’s lying in an unfamiliar bed, staring at the ceiling, watching the moonlight slowly creep in as the clouds outside finally clear, and he can’t sleep. Exhaustion grips him with a thousand clinging hands, and he can’t sleep. He knows exactly where everyone is, knows that Tommy and Tubbo are sharing the room next to him, that Techno and Phil are on this same hall, and he even made sure to locate Fundy despite—everything.

Everyone is safe, in this moment, at least. But he can’t sleep, can’t give his body the rest it’s demanding of him. His mind is contorting in on itself, itching, buzzing, like a swarm of bees that can’t find the home hive. And his thoughts, as have been their wont lately, slip away before he can examine them properly.

(or perhaps he’s letting them go, has been letting them go all along, because he does not want to look at them, does not want to understand, because he wants to achieve that nebulous concept of being better but if he looks at himself too closely then he will have to acknowledge that being better doesn’t only have the meaning he’s assigned to the phrase, doesn’t just mean being better to others but also to)

He can’t sleep. So he gets up. Steadies himself against the bed’s banister until the world stops spinning. And then goes out into the hall. The stone is lit with flickering torches, and the soft crackling of the fire is the only sound. He slips out quietly, footsteps light on the carpet, and just walks. To the end of the hallway, glancing back just once, and—

Schlatt is at the other end. Staring at him. He stares back.

And then the ghost shakes his head and vanishes. The glimmer of blue is still there, still present as a shimmer if he doesn’t look at the spot directly, but the message is clear. Schlatt doesn’t want to talk.

He doesn’t particularly want to talk, either. Not after the mess that today has been. He regrets laying out all of his cards in front of Schlatt in the way that he did. The fact that Schlatt now knows how to make himself solid only adds to that. He’s not fond of the sensation, of his strength leaving him in a rush, pulled away from him without his consent.

(and his heart constricting in his chest)

The ground tilts a bit. He places his hands against the wall, and the dizziness passes. He keeps going. Keeps stalking through the halls.

He’s done this before. He felt like the castle’s passages were haunted, then, a few days ago. He still feels the same. Especially now, at night, when the whole castle is still. When he might as well be the only person alive.

(if he is that)

Except then, he rounds a corner and nearly runs over Ranboo. Or rather, doesn’t run him over, exactly, because Ranboo is exceedingly tall, and he somehow seems even taller now. But it’s him, his skin divided in black and white, wearing that suit he always seems to have on. Wilbur remembers to avert his eyes before meeting his gaze, but not before catching the fact that Ranboo’s are glowing purple. Which is different from usual. Definitely different from usual.

“Wasn’t expecting anyone else to be up,” he says, backing up a step. He fixes his gaze past Ranboo’s shoulder and tries to observe him surreptitiously.

Ranboo is holding a block of dirt. Grass intact. Interesting.

And then, Ranboo chirps at him. An enderman sort of warble, distorted and yet, somehow, gentle.

“Um,” he says. “Are you—is this the sleepwalking thing again?”

Immediately afterward, he realizes the stupidity of asking a sleepwalking person whether or not they’re sleepwalking. But the eyes are new, for sure; in the Egg’s chamber, when he was sleepwalking before, his eyes were just like they’d been previously, one red and one green, just glazed over.

His eyes now aren’t glazed at all, are bright and alert. But purple.

Ranboo vwoops.

“Alright, you know what, good for you,” he says. “I’m just going to keep walking. Maybe you should get some rest later or something.”

It’s not any of his concern what Ranboo’s doing. As long as he’s staying in the castle, he can sleepwalk and be an enderman to his heart’s content. It’s none of his business, and if he really feels the need, he’ll go get Phil. Since Phil seems to be halfway to adopting him in any case. Let Phil deal with it.

So he moves to walk around Ranboo. Except Ranboo mirrors him, and suddenly, the grass block is being shoved against his chest. Lightly, but enough to stop him in his tracks.

“Um,” he says again. Not up to his usual standards of eloquence, but Ranboo likely won’t remember this later if he actually is sleepwalking, so it’s fine. “You want me to take it? Is that it?”

Ranboo vwoops, still holding the block out at him, so he reaches for it, curling his fingers into the dirt. Ranboo releases the block as soon as he does, and the dirt immediately starts to come loose, to lose its shape, and a good bit of the grass starts to fall off. But Ranboo nods in satisfaction, letting out another warble, so he keeps hold of it as best he can. At least until Ranboo has passed by him, evidently content with whatever he thinks he’s accomplished. Wilbur turns to stare at his retreating back until he’s vanished around the corner.

And then he looks down at his hands. At the block, which barely resembles a block anymore. Mostly just a lump of dirt.

“Right,” he mutters, letting it slide through his fingers. Some of it clings to his skin, and he wrinkles his nose, brushing his hands against his coat.

He’s not sure what that was. But alright.

He finds his way out into the open air, eventually, climbing up and up until he gets to the roof of the castle. The sky above is lit with stars, and if he tilts his head and closes his eyes, he can hear them. Humming, always humming. Or perhaps he’s imagining it, his brain filling in a sound he can’t truly hear but that he knows is present. He’s not sure it makes a difference either way. It’s still a comfort. A small one, but a comfort nonetheless.

He’s considering whether to try to sleep up here instead when he sees that Phil is here too. A little off to the side, a dark silhouette staring out over the SMP, sitting on a stone bench. Why Eret put a bench on the roof, he has no idea; or perhaps Phil made it himself. He wouldn’t be surprised.

He should probably leave him be. And yet, he doesn’t want to go back inside, and—

Phil really ought to be resting too.

So he crosses the rooftop, slowly, almost reluctantly as he picks his way across the stone. He hesitates before sitting next to Phil on the bench, leaving a bit of space between them. This close, he can see the bags under Phil’s eyes better than ever, as well as the way his cloak twitches as the wings underneath move.

“Any particular reason why you’re up?” he asks. Phil doesn’t act surprised at his appearance; he knew he was there, then. Heard his approach, most likely, or perhaps just sensed his presence. Hundreds of years have made Phil a difficult man to catch off guard.

(though you did it once, in a different way, in that room, you caught him off guard and broke him in the catching)

Phil snorts. “Nightmare,” he says, clipped, though Wilbur is somewhat surprised to have gotten even that admission out of him. “I should be asking the same of you. You need to get some fucking sleep, Wilbur.”

“I’m well aware,” he says. “I’ve been trying. Thought a walk might clear my head.” He hesitates, not sure that he should push any further, not sure that he wants to, that Phil would welcome it. But then, he’s never been one to let such a small detail as whether his prying is welcome stop him. “Can I ask what about?” he asks, and is satisfied with that. If Phil wants him to fuck off, then he’ll tell him so.

But Phil is silent for a moment.

“You, usually,” he says.

“Oh,” Wilbur replies.

He didn’t expect that. But he feels like he should have.

Phil shifts, then, his clothing rustling as he turns to half face him.

“I didn’t mean it that way,” he says. “It’s not your fault. You get as old as I am and you pick up a few recurring nightmares. Persistent little fucks, but it’s not anything to be worried about.”

But this one is bad enough to cost you sleep on the eve of battle, and I know you know better than to let that happen, so it must be bad, he doesn’t say. But this one is about me, he doesn’t say. But there is still an uncomfortable tightness in his chest, one that doesn’t let up no matter how deeply he breathes. So he doesn’t look at Phil, but he says, “Tell me about it?” and immediately curses the weakness of his voice. He almost sounds scared, which is not what he was aiming for. Inviting, maybe. He wants to know.

(he doesn’t, actually, but he feels like he should, so it’s the same thing in the end)

Phil sighs.

“We’re on a cliff, you and I,” he says, sounding tired. “There’s an ocean below us, far down. Neither of us speak. You throw a sword down at my feet, and I—I do it. Just like I did. And then, you smile at me and fall backward. Off the cliff.” He looks down at his hands, flexing his fingers. “I jump after you. And then I remember that I can’t fly.”

Wilbur swallows.

(he has no trouble conflating himself with a nightmare, no trouble at all, but it becomes more difficult when the nightmare is not him but rather losing him and he should have expected as much from Phil because Phil for all his long years has never been good at letting go at giving up on something that cannot be saved but he still doesn’t know what to do with this what to say)

“I thought falling from a cliff was a Theseus thing,” he manages.

Phil chuckles dryly. “Techno does like his myths,” he says, “but life’s not so cut and dry as those are. Not everything has a perfect parallel. We’re not storybook characters.”

It’s not a pointed comment. But his mind still cringes away from the words.

“But stories come from somewhere,” he says softly. It’s not a plea, because he doesn’t have anything to plead, but if that’s so, then he doesn’t know why his voice is lined with desperation, all of a sudden, why his heart is thumping against his ribcage. “Even in real life, we all have roles to play.”

“Is that what you’ve been doing, Wil?” Phil asks. “Playing a role?”

His breath catches, snags in his lungs, like his chest is full of thorns.

(you do not like to be seen do not like to be perceived not like this not in a way that lays out the heart of you your core beliefs those are for you and you alone and you guard them so no one else knows and they receive only what you choose to present and so you do not like this at all do not like to be known beyond what you have explicitly chosen to share)

(you have always been a showman)

“I don’t know what you mean,” he says, but it’s stiff, too stiff, and Phil is too perceptive a man to be fooled by it.

“I’ve noticed what you’re doing,” Phil says. “You’re running yourself ragged trying to pull everyone together. To direct them. And I know you’re a leader, Wil, I really do, and you’re damn good at it, too, but you can’t possibly believe that wearing yourself out like this is healthy.”

He shuts his eyes. “It’s not like that,” he says. “I’m just doing what needs to be done.”

“It needs to be done. But not necessarily by you, mate. A lot of the people here are more than capable of taking on some of the responsibility. Your brothers included. Also, you didn’t answer my question.”

“I didn’t hear you ask one,” he snaps, sudden irritation welling up. “It’s not a matter of health, Phil! It’s a matter of what’s important, and what’s important right now is dealing with all of this bullshit. That has to come first.”

Phil sits up straighter. His hands grip his knees, and his eyebrows draw together.

“You come first,” Phil says. “You always come first. Your health is important, and you—you can’t take care of anyone else before you take care of yourself. Wil, how long have you—”

He cuts off, but Wilbur knows what he was about to ask. How long have you thought like this? Or something like that, anyway. This is another thing that he should have expected from Phil, this persistent concern for him. It’s unnecessary, since he

(decided long ago that his health could fall on his list of priorities so long as he was effective, so long as he was getting things done, and he did get things done, in his country, in his exile, he got things done and that was what mattered because he himself has always been so much less important than the things he could create and the things he could do for others)

has matters well in hand, but he doubts Phil would understand if he tried to explain it.

(easier to tell himself that than to admit that he can’t explain it at all, that no explanation he could give would hold up to a moment’s scrutiny, that Phil will see right through it to the real underlying cause, and Phil has already perceived far too much)

“Right, health is important,” he says, placating. “I didn’t mean to imply that it wasn’t. Though, honestly, you’re one to talk. Did you think I didn’t see the state your wings are in? When’s the last time you bothered to preen them?”

It’s a low blow, and he regrets the words as soon as they leave his mouth. Phil flinches, his face setting in a harder expression. More closed off, and he really should have known better, shouldn’t he? Should’ve known better than to bring it up like that, because Phil’s wings used to be his pride and joy, and now they’re ruined and it’s his fault to boot, and he can admit that he was looking for a sore spot to hit, but that wound is far worse than a sore spot.

“Sorry,” he murmurs. “I’m sorry.” He looks away, unable to meet Phil’s eyes, and finds himself looking up again. To the stars.

“It’s alright.” Phil laughs humorlessly. “I can’t say that you’re wrong.” He sighs, posture relaxing slightly. “I caught that, by the way. I know when you’re trying to distract me.” He tilts his head upward, staring at the stars just like Wilbur is, his hat sliding further back on his head. “I’m not trying to lecture you. I just want to understand. Why can’t you let yourself rest, Wil?”

That is a far more complicated question than he knows. That is a question that has its roots in months long past, in a drug van and an idea and a revolution and a nation, in his drive to get recognition and his determination that his country would succeed,

(because if it was not a success then it would be a failure and he too would be a failure)

in sleepless nights spent screaming into his pillow and days pasting on a smile and a confident stride. And then, in relinquishing his power when the people called for it, when he lost, conceding gracefully even as his stomach dropped into his boots, and getting an arrow in his back for his troubles, he and his brother chased like dogs from the home they built. And then, in the ravine, every shadow a threat, every person out to get him, every whisper a lie, every moment settling the despair more deeply into his bones.

But perhaps Phil knows that. Or some of it at least. He doesn’t know how much Phil has guessed. But Phil knows enough to know that the him that he encountered in that room was a far cry from the him that he portrayed in his letters, before he stopped sending them at all, before he could no longer bring himself to pick up the pen, before the thought of lying to his father again left him feeling physically ill, and the idea of telling him the truth was worse.

Phil knows enough to know that something went wrong.

Perhaps a bit of honesty wouldn’t hurt. Perhaps trying to get him to understand wouldn’t hurt. At least, not more than it already does, no more than he already has.

“It’s because I know what I’m like, Phil,” he says softly. “I know what I’m like.”

The stars twinkle at him.

“Okay,” Phil says. Patient. “What does that mean?”

He considers it. Considers everything.

“You know the legacy I left on this server, right?” he says. “You know what I left behind when I died.”

Phil turns his head, looks at him. His expression is slightly pained.

“I sort of destroyed the legacy you left,” he says, and it takes him a second to realize what he’s talking about.

“Not that L’Manberg,” he says. “That L’Manberg wasn’t mine. I suppose it was Tubbo’s more than anything, but it’s hard to say, I think. I can’t really speak on it. Ghostbur—saw things differently than how I would have.” He stops for Phil’s reaction to that, but aside from a slight narrowing of his eyes, there is nothing. “I mean the original. L’Manberg. My L’Manberg.”

Phil sucks in a sharp breath at his choice of words.

“No, Wil,” he says. “No, I didn’t really get to see it.”

“That’s the point,” he says. He closes his eyes, searching for the right words. The stars are pinprick lights dancing on his eyelids. “I destroyed it. I destroyed it all, Phil. I waffled back and forth a lot, for weeks, deciding whether I was going to do it or not. And then I did. I pushed that button, Phil. I made the decision. I destroyed it. I destroyed people’s homes. I betrayed all of my friends. And the thing about that is, even if I regret hurting them, now, I still don’t regret the action itself. I don’t regret destroying it, Phil. It needed to go.” I needed to go.

“Why is that, Wil?” Phil asks quietly.

“It wasn’t good anymore,” he answers easily. This, at least, he knows. “It wasn’t—it wasn’t mine anymore, either, but mainly it was that it wasn’t good. It became—it became corrupt. Bad. And it was never going to be good again, so it had to stop. It had to end. It all had to end. But that’s not my point right now. My point is that that was my legacy, right? L’Manberg? And I destroyed that, but what’s most important is the pain I caused. That was my legacy. That pain. That was what I left behind me. And even before that, even before everything, when I started it in the first place, I brought war to the server, Phil. Suffering, conflict. And the war was a game at first. We were all friends at the start. But then I decided that it wasn’t a game. I declared independence, and I meant it. So in the end, all of the problems on this server can be traced back to me. Something I did, or something I said.” He leans his head forward again, gazing out at the horizon rather than the night sky. “It all comes back to me. I’ve never been good for this server.”

He pauses, waiting for Phil’s reply. None comes, and he glances over; Phil is staring at him, face white as a sheet.

“I haven’t answered your question yet,” he says. “But you need to—you need to understand all of that so you understand why I feel—” He breaks off. His tongue feels clumsy, and his mind suddenly blanks. He’s not even sure that any of what he’s just said makes sense, and if it doesn’t make sense, then he can’t continue, because if he’s really going to do this, really going to put this all out there for Phil to hear, then he needs it to make sense, needs to be sure that he actually understands.

“Why you feel what?” Phil asks. Still quiet.

He takes in a breath. Tries to gather his thoughts. The exhaustion isn’t helping. It’s like wading through mud.

“I know what I’m like,” he repeats. It makes a good springboard. “So I know that I sure as hell don’t deserve to be back here, even if it had been what I wanted. But I am, so I need to do something that’s worth that. I need to pull myself together and get us all out of this. For Tommy’s sake, if for no one else, and for Tubbo, and—and Fundy, and everyone who doesn’t deserve to be pulled into this mess. Another mess. If I have the ability to help, then I have a responsibility to do that. I can’t just—push it off to someone else, Phil. That’s not how it works.”

“Why not?” Phil asks.

“Because then I’m not worth it, then, am I?” he erupts. Why isn’t Phil getting this? “Phil, we’re all measured by the things we create. By the things we’re able to do, our accomplishments. If I can’t do anything that’s worth something, then what the fuck am I here for? Because it’s not because I asked, Phil. I got what I deserved in the end, and that was supposed to be all. I wanted it to be all, Phil, I wanted—”

He cuts off, horror mounting in him. This was a mistake. He never should have said anything at all, never should have started in on this. He should have dodged the questions, the probing comments, until Phil finally got tired and left it alone.

He should have gone back inside.

But Phil still hasn’t spoken, so he presses on, trying to wrap it up in a way that’s understandable.

“In the end, it all comes down to the fact that I have experience with this kind of stuff,” he says. “Someone needs to step up, and I can. So I need to. That’s all it is.” He scrubs a hand down his face. “I probably should’ve just skipped to that part.”

“No, I’m glad you didn’t,” Phil says, and there’s a tremor in his voice that he can’t place the reason for. “I’m glad you—I’m glad you told me this. But—Wil, okay, first off, just because you can do something doesn’t mean you should, and it doesn’t mean you have to.”

“I knew you wouldn’t understand it,” he mutters. He really ought to go back inside. But the night air is so fresh and clear, smelling of humidity and petrichor, and the thought of returning to that empty, dark room only to stare at the ceiling until morning makes something in him shrivel up and die inside. If he’s not going to be able to sleep, then he’d rather be awake out here than in there.

“Wil,” Phil says, insistent, and suddenly, Phil’s hands are on his shoulders, turning him toward him with a light but firm touch. He blinks. “Do you not take care of yourself because you think you don’t deserve it?” Something in Phil’s voice folds like wet paper, just as fragile, just as flimsy.

He opens his mouth to respond, and no words come.

(there is is, the crux of the matter, the core of it all, because he is a person built of pretty words and self-loathing, and long before he directed any anger at the world around him, he pointed it inward, lashed at himself until only scars remained, and he called that just, called that right)

He’s not sure how Phil jumped to that conclusion from all of that. But—he’s trying to deny it, trying to refute the point, but the words just won’t form.

“Oh, Wilbur,” Phil says, sounding a bit wrecked, and then, the hands on his shoulders move to his arms, gently pulling him forward and into Phil’s embrace. Phil’s arms circle him lightly, his hands rubbing patterns into his back, and then, his wings rise from under his cloak, swooping forward and closing around him in a motion that is all-too familiar from his childhood, in a motion indicating that even now, Phil is trying to comfort him, trying to protect him with all that he is. It’s a hug that means warmth and safety and love, and Wilbur begins to tremble, because—

He doesn’t deserve it. He doesn’t. He doesn’t understand what he did to deserve it.

“You don’t need to do anything to be worthy of love,” Phil murmurs. “You don’t need to do anything to deserve to take care of yourself. And—you’re wrong about your legacy. It’s not just pain and suffering. You’ve done so many good things for so many people, and they remember that, even if you can’t. I see it every day. You were missed, Wil. So fucking missed, by so many more people than just me.”

And that can’t be true. That can’t possibly be true, because he remembers his ending certainty, his declaration that everyone would thank Phil for killing him, that everyone wanted him to do it, and he was so sure of himself, then, because he was the traitor, he was the villain, and villains get what they deserve. And perhaps he wasn’t entirely right, not in Tommy’s case, at any rate, because Tommy wanted him back, at least, but everyone else should have wanted him dead.

But no one has. No one has thus far, at least. No one has tried to do anything to him aside from a few pointed comments. No one has tried to lock him up or kill him. No one has tried, even when they should, they definitely should, because he was hated by the end—wasn’t he?

(no. except for by one, and you have never judged yourself fairly)

So, what does that mean, then? What does it mean that he understands far less than he thought he did? What does it mean that he is struggling for control, falling back into old patterns because it’s all he knows, struggling and falling and failing? He thought he knew, thought he understood well how it all ties together, how to measure his own worth by what he can do, but here is Phil saying that that’s not right at all, and what is he supposed to do with that?

He has vowed to be better. Has been trying to be better. Has he been getting that wrong, too?

Or perhaps he isn’t wrong. Perhaps Phil is. He would like to believe that Phil is. It would be so much easier if Phil is. But here, now, held with arms and wings both, the contact chasing all of the day’s chill away, he’s not sure that he can arrive at that conclusion. Not sure he can let himself deny it, deny this.

But if he is wrong about this, he is wrong about so much, and that—that is terrifying.

“I’ve been trying to be better. I’ve been trying so hard,” he gasps out. “Phil—Phil, I don’t think I know what I’m doing. I don’t think I know how.”

“That’s okay,” Phil says. “That’s okay, you don’t have to. You just have to try. That’s all anyone wants. And it’s a process, not a one-and-done thing. It’s okay to not know.” Phil pauses. One hand moves from his back and goes up to card through his hair. Wilbur lets out a sigh. “But part of that is being better toward yourself. You deserve that just by virtue of existing. You don’t have to do anything or make anything. You deserve better things.”

(his own voice: you deserve good things and you can have them. but that was to Tommy, for Tommy, and it surely can’t apply to him, surely, because he is different, is not good like Tommy is, because he may be trying not to be the villain anymore but he was one once and he is not good and even before then he was not good enough so surely he cannot turn that around on himself surely he cannot)

“I don’t know if I can believe that,” he admits.

“That’s alright, too,” Phil says. “We can work on it, okay? We’ll all work on it together. Just, remember that you do deserve better things. No matter what your brain is telling you. Your brain is fucking wrong, okay? In this, it’s so fucking wrong. You deserve to be—to be fucking kind to yourself.” He pauses for a moment, and when he continues, his voice is full of trepidation. “Wil, you are—I mean, you do—you do want to—”

He seems to be struggling to phrase it, but Wilbur knows exactly what he’s asking.

“I don’t know about want,” he says. He’s been honest thus far; may as well continue. “I—I didn’t tell you about the time with the Egg, before you got here. It got in my head good. Really good. And it offered me—rest. I tried to give in to it. If other people weren’t there, I would have.”

Phil’s grip on him tightens.

“But I’ve decided I’m staying,” he continues. “I’ve decided. For the sake of—I mean, some of you people seem to care about me, for some godforsaken reason. And I don’t want to hurt you. So I’m staying here. Alive. I’m going to keep trying.”

“Okay,” Phil whispers. “Okay, that’s a good start.”

If that is a start, then what is the end goal? But he’s too worn out to ask. Exhausted in so many more ways than one.

But his mind is quieter. No longer buzzing. Like a storm has finally passed over, leaving destruction in its wake, but also calm.

He finally brings his arms up and embraces Phil in turn, leaning his weight against his chest. The moment he lets himself, all his muscles go limp, his body finally succumbing to the break he so sorely needs.

“You’re a sappy old man, do you know that?” he mumbles.

“I’m your father,” Phil says. “Comes with the territory.”

He hums, pushing his face against Phil’s robes. He’s clutching at his back, but the cloak has shifted, now that Phil’s moved his wings to wrap around him, so if he inches his hands up a bit, they’ll hit the wings’ base. So he does, slowly, cautiously, and then just lets his hands rest there, against the feathers. Phil stiffens.

“Let me preen them,” he says.

Phil takes a second to answer.

“Didn’t we just have a conversation about not taking on as much responsibility?” he says, and just as Phil can pick out when he’s trying to dodge a topic, he can tell right away that the question is an avoidance.

“This is completely different,” he says. “If you don’t want me to, I won’t. But—” He moves back so he can stare Phil in the face, taking a moment to chew on his next words. “I want to. Please.”

He’s not sure why this is suddenly so important to him. It’s probably something about how the state of these wings is his fault in the first place, about how Phil wrecked them in an effort to protect him, about how he turned around and begged him to kill him a moment later, with no regard for what Phil had just sacrificed. It’s probably something about how Phil is talking self-acceptance at him and yet obviously has not been taking care of himself, not in this aspect, at least, and he hates it, hates to see this disregard for things that he once held so dear, hates to see it and know that the blame lies with him. It’s probably something about how being held like this takes him back to when he was younger, and he always loved running his hands through his father’s feathers when he was still a child, straightening them and cleaning them and taking pride in the fact that he was helping, that he was a part of something, part of a family at last after so long on his own.

It’s probably all of that at once.

Something in Phil seems to deflate. His shoulders slump, which is not exactly the reaction Wilbur was hoping for.

And then—

“Alright,” Phil whispers. He leans back from the hug, stretching out his wings so that Wilbur can get a good look at them. So he does look, and he struggles to keep his face neutral; he’d hoped, somehow, that his glimpse of them in the Egg’s chamber, ragged and bleeding from the thorns, was exaggerated in his memory, that they’re not actually in as terrible a way as he remembers. But as Phil allows him to stare, his heart sinks.

Even in the dim light of the stars, he can see that the wings are a mess. And his stomach rolls as his eyes land on bare, scarred patches of skin, on exposed bone. A few places are still bandaged from the damage the Egg did, though potions have done much in the way of healing those particular wounds.

And only those, it seems.

(the Angel of Death will fly no more)

But there are still plenty of feathers, feathers that Phil obviously hasn’t been looking after, feathers that fall every which way, sticking out at odd angles. There are a few spots that Phil has evidently straightened himself, but not many. Some appear to be overlapping strangely, poking into the skin in a way that cannot be comfortable.

He looks back to Phil’s face. Phil’s expression is odd, some combination of resignation and defiance, as if halfway daring him to comment.

So Wilbur doesn’t. Just scoots forward slightly and runs his hand across some of the offered feathers.

And then gets to work.

Even in his tired state, the motions are familiar, far too familiar to mess up. Straighten the feathers, pick out dirt and other detritus that’s been caught in and beneath them. His hands are more hesitant than they ever have been, struggling with what to do as they near the more obviously injured places, but he does know how to do this. He has done it so many times before.

(and if Phil is allowing him this now, when he obviously has not allowed anyone near his wings in a long time, even Techno, even the son whose side he remained by, then perhaps it is a good sign, and perhaps he can take it as a sign of hope, as a sign that things can be better are getting better no matter the hurts that have yet to heal)

“Do they hurt?” he can’t help but ask, voice low.

Phil hesitates a beat too long. “Not usually,” he says, and Wilbur knows it for a lie.

There’s a lot of feathers loose. A lot of feathers coming out at a mere touch. And Wilbur knows how this works, knows that if the feather is already falling out then it needs to be removed, but it still concerns him, just how many there are, just how many now litter the ground, stirring in the wind.

It’s on the tip of his tongue to ask if it hurts right now. But another glance at Phil’s face forestalls him. His eyes have drifted shut, the lines around his eyes and on his forehead smoothing out, and the tension has bled from his frame.

(a memory: you have lived in this house scarce weeks and you barely trust these two at all but this boy who will become your brother has sat you down with the man who will become your father and is telling you, determinedly, seriously, resolutely, that if you’re going to stick around then you need to know how to do this, and Philza is laughing at the both of you and you are nervous, because you have never had a home before and you want to keep this one, but Technoblade shows you how to card through the feathers, and Phil chirps at you every now and then, soft and encouraging, and it feels a bit like a home, you think, if you’ll let yourself have it)

For a moment, he lets his hand hover over bone. It’s so very wrong, so very disturbing. Bones should not be extended out of flesh in the way that these are. His stomach flips again.

“This is my fault,” he murmurs. The words slip out.

“It was my choice,” Phil says, opening his eyes. “I’d do it again.” It’s a steady declaration this time, no indication of a lie.

(and he almost wishes that there were, because he has never known what to do with unwavering protection, protection that he does not deserve—but then, Phil has told him that his sense of what he deserves might not be right at all, and he doesn’t know what to do with that either)

(because the protection offered is without a doubt resolute, unquestioning, unconditional, and in that moment, as the explosions went off and Phil shielded him with no hesitation even though he could not have known that a life lost to them would have been his last because he did not tell him did not tell him anything at all)

(you try not to remember that Phil must have waited for you to respawn and try not to imagine the look on his face when your body remained and somebody had to tell him had to tell him that this is a three-life server and the life he took was the last the last the last the finale the ending an ending he surely did not intend to grant and you cannot let yourself imagine the moment he found out you cannot)

He doesn’t have an answer to that. None that Phil would accept, at any rate. So he doesn’t answer at all, just keeps dragging his fingers through his father’s feathers, neatening them, cleaning them where he can, and there’s only so much he’s going to be able to to like this, here and now, but it’s a start. Judging by the way Phil’s eyes are drooping again, he feels more comfortable than before. And really, that was the goal, wasn’t it? To do something? Anything?

(anything to ease the weight to lift the burden and Phil has a point, perhaps, about responsibility and taking on too much but this is not a responsibility is not work this is taking care of family and if Phil is allowing you this then perhaps you ought to consider accepting help in return perhaps letting your loved ones in would not be such a bad idea perhaps you can put a little more of yourself on display and trust them to smooth out the rough edges perhaps perhaps)

Eventually, he runs out of feathers to preen, to fix. There is nothing he can do about the scars, the bones, but he has done what he can, and perhaps that means something, even if not everything.

“We should go back inside,” Phil murmurs. His words slur slightly; he’s listing to the side a bit, obviously just on the edge of sleep. It makes Wilbur glad to know that some things don’t change.

“Probably,” he says. “I’d like to stay out for a few minutes longer. The stars look nice tonight.”

Phil yawns, and halfway through, the noise transforms into a warbling chirp.

“I s’ppose we can do that,” he agrees, and in the next instant, Phil is wrapping his wings around him again, pulling him closer, and he doesn’t fight it. He lets himself lean into Phil’s side, warm and secure. Overhead, the stars spin. And hum. They always hum, even if he can’t quite hear the notes, and for the moment, he feels right with his place in the universe.

He falls asleep like that, finally. His dreams are full of music and feathers and distant birdsong.

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

He wakes up to the clanging of a bell.

“Oh, fuck,” Phil is saying, and the weight of his wings disappears in a split second. Wilbur almost topples over as Phil lurches to his feet, catching himself just in time, bracing himself against the bench and squinting against the morning sun. It is morning; that’s probably the best night’s sleep he’s gotten in the past few days, the beginning insomnia notwithstanding. His weariness is not quite gone, but it’s far less prevalent than it has been.

It takes a second for his eyes to adjust to the light. The first thing he sees are the red vines crawling over the sides of the castle, inching toward the roof.

“Shit, fuck,” Phil is still saying, “the enchantments are gone, we need to move—”

The bell clangs twice, then thrice more, and then falls silent. Eret said they had a bell, didn’t they? That they would ring it if something happened, to wake everyone up?

“Fuck,” Phil says, suddenly hushed. “Wil.”

He rises, coming to stand by Phil’s side, peering out toward the gates, the wall, the place where the enchanted boundaries are supposed to be set. The castle itself doesn’t yet seem to be overrun, but the walls are covered in the foliage, and if he watches them carefully, he can see them growing in real time, unfurling toward them like bloody banners.

Dream stands just inside the gates. Behind him, there are others: Bad, Ant, Ponk, Punz, the four they knew to expect for sure, along with a woman he doesn’t recognize, white flowers strewn in her hair and wrapped around her arms. In front of them, Eret stands with their sword held out, and Sapnap staggers to stand beside them, obviously just woken up. Hopefully the others are on the move, too.

But what draws Wilbur’s attention is Ranboo. Standing next to Dream, slouched. Eyes no longer purple, but vacant, staring, dull. Dream has a possessive hand on his shoulder. Ranboo himself isn’t moving.

(betrayed betrayed betrayed even if history does not repeat it rhymes echoes and rhymes and he should’ve known better than to trust should’ve known better than to think that no one would stab him in the back because that’s just what people do)

“I hope you took advantage of the time we gave you to prepare,” Dream says. “We thought it’d be only fair. But it’s checkmate now.”

And the smile on his mask seems to grow.

#mcyt #dsmp #dream smp #dsmp fic #wilbur soot #philza #ranboo #dreamwastaken #/rp #cat writes fic #long post #i am currently Not At Home so i was worried i wouldn't be able to post #but here i am!! i did it!! :D #we really are in the endgame now

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shining-m00nlight · 3 years

Text

5 times Catelyn didn’t think of Brandon Stark (5)

Everyone thinks she is with Ned because of Brandon but they are wrong. Fifth one is Brandon himself.

Chapter 5: Threir first baby is born. Brandon is a bit of an ass but she wont let that take aware her happiness. Again you don’t necessarily need to read the other chapters first.

When the next contraction hit it hurt more than anything she had ever experienced in her entire life.

"Push" Doctor Luwin yelled while she screamed her lungs out.

"You're doing great, my love." her stupidly calm husband tried to encourage her. It was immensely infuriating that he was this composed while her body was ripping apart.

"Shut up!!! You know what? You can push the next one out! Because I am not doing this agaaaiin! This is all your fault! You are never touching me again after this." she yelled at him.

"Breath Catelyn. You need the oxygen." the doctor tried to instruct her.

"Oh you shut your mouth too. I'm pushing a melon out of my vagina while ten people are watching me. I get to yell as much as I want." she now went on to scream at Luwin even though he probably didn't deserve it.

"Do you want me to leave?" Ned asked her with a guilty look on his face.

"Of course not! Don't you dare leave me while I'm giving birth to your huge baby!" she cried out and frantically tried to reach for him. Luckily she found his hands very quickly. She couldn't remember when she had let them go in the first place.

After the contraction was over she got more frightened than angry. How could he think it was a smart idea to leave her alone right now? No human had ever had such an idiotic thought as this one. He wanted to leave her now! Why would he do that?

"Please Ned, please don't leave me alone. I'm sorry. Please stay with me. Don't leave. It hurts and I can't do this without you." she cried out and tears of pain and exhaustion were running down her face.

Ned leaned over her and pressed his lips to her forehead and pushed her wet hair out of her face, "Don't worry, my love. I won't leave you, ever. Not unless you tell me too. I'm pretty sure I wouldn't be able to do anything without you. You are so strong."

"You make me strong!" she whispered right before the next contraction hit again and she had to scream again.

She screamed so loud, she was surprised she couldn't hear glass breaking around her. She squeezed Ned's hands so hard, she was surprised that all his bones were still intact. She pushed so hard, she was surprised she didn't push her guts out alongside her baby. Everything she did, she did with all the strength she could muster up. She was certain she would soon run out of energy and the will to go on.

She wondered how it was possible for her vagina to stretch open to the amount that was needed for a whole human to fit through there because it felt like it was going to rip apart from the inside. It must have been an hour or so before she got a little break to catch her breath again.

"Catelyn, you're doing an amazing job. It's going really well. The baby starts crowning now. Try to slow down your desire to push and maybe gently try to pant." Luwin ordered her.

"What?" she asked through gritted teeth. "How does that make any sense? I want this to be over, not slow it down!"

"Trying to slow down the birth will give your skin time to stretch. It could prevent tearing." One of the midwife's chimed in. Catelyn likely would have snapped at her as well if she wouldn't be distracted by the word tearing. Whoever said births were magical or a miracle had been a lying liar. Giving birth hurt, there were body fluids everywhere and she had had strangers hands on and in her vagina examining her for the last 15 hours.

She needed Ned and searched for his eyes: "I don't think I can do this. It hurts too much. I can't. Please Ned, I can't."

Ned's hands left hers and for a moment she wanted to panic but thankfully his hands were cupping her face a second later.

"Yes you can." He told her: "There is no one as strong as you. No one could bring our child into this world as fantastic as you are doing right now. I believe in you."

"Catelyn it's time to push again." the doctor interrupted Ned.

And she did. Maybe a few minutes, maybe a few hours later she was finally done. She had delivered their baby.

Their baby was here. The baby they had been waiting for, for seven months ever since they found she was pregnant was here. She still couldn't wrap her head around it. After hours of pain, pushing and screaming she got to hold her baby in her arms. He was perfect in every way possible. She couldn't imagine that there ever was a child as beautiful as her baby. She was remotely aware of the fact that someone was pushing down on her stomach probably to get the placenta out but she was too distracted by her son.

Sprawled over her chest he looked tiny. It seemed impossible that this small human being had kicked her from the inside hard enough to be visible on the outside. Neds large hand came into her view carefully stroking over the little patches of red hair on their baby's head. She was sure her husband could hold their child in one hand. It had always amazed her of how much gentleness his hands were capable of despite their roughness. And it had never been as apparent as it was right now.

"He is perfect, Cat" Ned whispered, his voice full of awe. There was no reason for more words. No words could ever describe the feelings both parents felt but they both felt it.

______________________________________________________________________

A few hours later the baby had had his first checkup, had been fed for the first time, both Cat and her baby had been cleaned up and Ned and she had decided on the name Robb.

Now the proud newly made parents were sitting on the hospital bed taking turns holding their baby. It was almost addicting and she was certain that she would never be able to get enough of it.

An hour before Ned had called their family and 5 min before had just received a text message that they had arrived. Her father had been there for the first few hours of her hospital stay but they sent him home and told everyone else not to come till the baby was actually there. There had been no reason for any of them to wait over half a day in an uncomfortable hospital waiting room.

A soft knock was at the door. The nurse that had helped her with nursing Robb for the first time stuck her head through the door, "Your family is here Mrs Stark. Would you like to see them?"

"Yes, let them in please." Cat smiled at her. She was pretty sure she hadn't stopped smiling since the pain of giving birth had passed.

The door opened wide and their family walked in. Immediately the room was full with their fathers, their siblings and her uncle. Everyone marveled at their son and got to hold him. Lyanna declared that their choice in a name was terrible and Brandon looked like he was agreeing but everyone else politely ignored her.

Her father expressed delite in the fact that Robb shared their Tully traits of red hair and blue eyes. For a moment Cat was afraid that Rickard or Ned were disappointed that Robb shared so little of their Stark look but Rickard had just smiled at Hosters words. Ned had outright declared that his son was very lucky that he looked just like his beautiful mother. Her brother had rolled his eyes at it but it filled Cat with waves of happiness.

They all stayed until Cat started to yawn, exhausted from the long days she had. Robb was already asleep in his crib next to her bed. After that people left one by one until only Rickard and Brandon were still in the room. Richard took Ned by his arm and pulled him out of the room into the hospital corridor.

Brandon looked down and at the crib, "My brother is right you know? This child is lucky to have your looks and not his sombre face. This way he is way more pleasant to look at."

She frowned, "Don't be like that Brandon. Robb would be just as lucky if he had his fathers face. It is a good face. I should know, I married that face."

Brandon laughed with an ugly smile that was more of a grin on his lips he said, "And you're still happy with that kitty Cat? No regrets? Didn’t wish you were still with me instead of the replacment you found? Didn't think about me or my babies while being pregnant? I'm just saying our kids wouldn't have to worry about inheriting an ugly face."

"How dare you Brandon! How dare you say something like this? Get out! Get out now. For your information I didn't waste one single thought on you the whole 9 months or any months before that. And I don't want to see you here anymore if you insult my husband and my future babies." She told him in a dangerously low tone. She didn't want Ned or his father to hear her but she would not tolerate anyone insulting her husband and ruining any part of their happiness. Not today, not ever.

Brandon left the room after this and went home with his father. Normally she still got on well with Brandon. He had an easy going personality and he was funny but everytime he was reminded of the fact that his little brother ended up with his ex fiance he became an ass and made Ned into the butt of his cruel jokes. It always made her blood boil instantly but she didn't intend to think about it anymore today. Not when there were so many things to be grateful for today.

Fortunately Ned returned to her pretty much the second Brandon went out of the room. She asked what his father had wanted from him and her husband told her his father had just wanted to let him know that he is very proud of Ned. She didn't quite manage to keep the smirk of her face and her eyebrows in place but it was just very like the Starks to keep their feelings and emotional outbursts as private as possible.

Ned climbed into bed with her so he could hold her in his arms. There was no place safer than Ned's arms. The feeling of his chest at her back and his beard on her neck made her float into a deep sleep. A well needed sleep.

No Brandon occupied her mind, only Ned.

#my 5+1 Nedlyn fic #baby Robb Stak #babies #game of thrones #asoiaf #catelyn stark #catelyn tully #ned stark #maester luwin #ned x catelyn #nedlyn #ned x cat #brandon stark #modern au #ao3 fanfic

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hiro-gari · 3 years

Text

Going back at reading the manga and the webcomic made me realized this Batarou parallel:

Both Garou and Badd had horrible experience as a prisoner. One was imprisoned by Monster Association after being tortured by the MA members, whereas the other was imprisoned by Neo Heroes after being sedated for days by the cyborg guards.

Both of them were chained up and also at the end they released themself to escape the place by breaking the chains so easily. Although one was going berserk in unconscious state while the other was calmly and in full-consciousness.

This got me thinking: Why not a headcanon for prisoner villain Batarou AU? 😳✨

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So in this AU, both of them are considered criminals by people, but in truth it was wrong.

Badd was a former S-Class hero who decided to become a lone vigilante after seeing how corrupt the “Hero System” and the society around him. He was captured by his former employer and sent him into the prison to keep him from spilling out their secrets to the public. Badd still holding the grudge to the Hero Association of being treated worst during his time as hero and as vigilante.

Garou was an underdog outcast who tried to make a point that the “Hero System” is cruel and corrupted. He was successfully ruined the whole Hero Association into crumbling mess in the public eyes, but finally was defeated and captured by the S-Class heroes. Basically like canon Garou but more hardcore on being a villain.

So, Garou and Badd become prisonmates, since their cells location were side-by-side. Sometimes they tried to make a conversation, sharing their past or experiences, or their beliefs regarding the unfairly “Hero System” that caused them imprisoned. Thus, their bonding resulted in some kind of friendship during the time.

Garou likes Badd alot because he shared the same sentiment with him and have admirable courage to fight against his former “friends”. And from what Badd has telling him, Garou wanted to witness Badd’s legendary Fighting Spirit by his own eyes. Badd likes Garou alot because despite the extreme way of his villain vision, Garou has many good points about the flaws of heroes, that they were wrong about the so-called “Absolute Justice”. Besides, Badd really wanted to see Garou’s monster side.

One day before their execution day, after going through cruel punishments and tortures, Garou and Badd managed to escape together from the prison.

Garou was going berserk suddenly after being triggered by the exhausting physical tortures. Still in half-awakening monster form, he destroyed the cell and breaking through it with tremendous strength, which accidentally also destroyed Badd’s cell, too. Badd also capable to release himself from the restraining chain easily at that time, thus decided to follow Garou towards the exit.

Imagine Garou destroyed the whole prison building, going through the walls Kool-Aid style like he did in the manga. And Badd calmly following Garou from behind, ignoring the whole chaos that Garou had caused.

As soon as he reached the outside of destroyed building, Garou finally has fully transformed into his monster form, mesmerized Badd in the process with such an amazing sight. He took the chance to escape by climbing onto Garou’s monster body and riding on his back/shoulder/head. That’s when both of them running away together from being recaptured by the heroes.

After successfully fled to their newly hideout, Garou and Badd agreed to be villain partners from that day on. Imagine them being kickass villain duo, fighting side-by-side against the heroes.

Somewhere along the way, they started to develop new feelings beyond friendship and partnership. Born from the protectiveness, genuine cares for eachother well-being on their survival, being attracted for eachother, longing for some companionship to take away their loneliness after so many years being alone (Garou) / far from the family (Badd), etc.

But the most prominent feeling was Love. A happiness after finding someone who could understand them without being judged, accepted them for what they are wholeheartedly despite people said they were on “wrong side” since they were both outcasts. Having someone who willing to give affection and comfort, unconditionally.

So one night after treating eachother’s battle wounds, Garou and Badd confessed their romantic feelings. Thus officiated their new relationship as lovers.

From outside, they looked like merciless villains. But when nobody is watching, they’re actually very gentle human beings who never hurt innocent people. They often treating eachother with so much care and tenderness. Always have eachother’s back in protectiveness.

People wont admit it, but everytime they watched or witnessing how they fight against the heroes, they would say Garou and Badd are “the Strongest Power Couple in Battlefield”. Knowing how perfect their coordinated attacks and teamwork, also how soft Garou and Badd were looking at eachother in secret footage, people couldn’t help but secretly rooted for them. Some even emphatized them, wishing them have the best life wherever they are.

For sure, Garou and Badd completed eachother’s life. They didn’t mind living like villains, the bad guys, for the rest of their life. As long as they have eachother, then it’s okay..

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And that’s all I have for Prisoner Villains Batarou AU! I was thinking no matter what universe they’re in, they will still found and loving eachother dearly. Their love is so big it overcomes their life obstacles! 😤👍💖

Btw I’m so sorry if everything I come up with looks like nonsense blabbering aaaa forgive me and uncreative mind– 😭🙇💦 I hope you guys don’t mind of untalented me :“”)

Huge thanks always for: @hiro-gari, @the-goddessfighter, @kaincuro, @guby1620, @garous-nipple, @jusqu-une-etudiante, and @lovelybutnot-ablankcanvas, also ofc all of Batarou shippers in the fandom! 😉👍💞💖💝🌸🌼🌻🌷💐

Always wish you all the best, guys~ 😘💕💓

-Little1993lamb-

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~Lilia:

Ooooo damn, the HA/Neo Heroes are gonna be regretting making enemies of them big time 👏 I really like the vigilante idea for the two of them, they’re bringing the system down AND giving monsters hell.

ALSO I’m dyinggg they’re like “execution?? not today” 😤 just *bulldozes the fuck out*

look at this boy ain’t nobody gonna execute him he’s got shit to do

Anon your mind is incredible✨ thank you for sharing your creations with us!!

#this has so much hurt/comfort potential tho :’)#don’t say it’s nonsense blabbering I like it a lot 🥺🥺#ur brain is amazing #also ur way faster than me at writing waaah #I hope to post a fic based on one of your headcanons this weekend!#possibly tonight if I get it together 😭#wishing you the best too 💖#submission #anon #au #batarou #garou #metal bat #opm #spoilers #webcomic spoilers

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gemlinz · 3 years

Text

Fulcrum ch. 4 - Roadblock (Levi x f!Reader)

Summary: It was a cruel world, she knew. She also knew better than to ask for more than her lot: being a full time barmaid and a part time thief. She helped where she could, bitterly accepted where she could not. Feared the monsters lurking outside the walls. But still - being near him, taking in his strength, his resolve - she couldn't help but hope for more. For herself. For him. For humanity.

Warnings: Swearing, Violence, Mention of Child Abuse

| CH 1 | CH 2 | CH 3 | CH 4 |

Read on A03

He almost doesn’t recognize her at first, in the light of day. Usually, their meetings were at night, and she was dressed for work; be it barmaid or spy. Now though, she’s wearing civilian clothes, hair done up and neat. He can also see the defined muscles of her arms through her shawl, becoming more honed as the weeks of training go on.

The location is also unexpected- a small out of the way tea shop. It also happened to be the only one that carried his preferred brand, so he’d frequent whenever leave allowed.

F/N’s talking to the owner at the counter when he enters, not noticing him. Whatever it is must be interesting, neither of them look up at the bell.

Gritting his teeth at the sight of her, he hangs back. Let her dig her grave first.

“This one?” She points to a jar filled with loose leaves, “How long should it steep for?”

The shopkeep nods along, “That's the one - you’ll want to steep it in boiling water for 3 minutes, longer for a more mature taste.”

At her hesitation, the old man prompts with a twinkle in his eye, “It’s one of our most popular - sure to please any suitor.”

She scrambled to catch her wallet, almost dropping it in surprise.

“Oh- Oh no, nothing like that!” From behind, Levi could only see the tips of her ears glow red. His stomach clenched at the thought of the endearing blush that was probably spreading across the bridge of her nose. All for show as she continued to stutter out her cover story, “It's for a, um, friend - I work at a bar, you see…”

“You serve tea….at a bar?” The owner replied, skeptical.

F/N nodded frantically, ready to double down.

“She serves shitty tea at a bar.” Levi corrected, watching her violently startle at his voice.

“Levi!” The owner admonishes, recognizing him immediately, “You know you’re one of my favorite customers, but you can't talk to a lady like that.”

She had whipped around the second he spoke, eyes wide. Levi wasn’t buying it for a second.

Roughly grabbing her arm, he shouted over his shoulder, “She ain’t no lady, old man.” to the protesting shop owner as he forcibly dragged her outside.

“Pick another mark.” He deadpanned once they were outside, throwing her away from him. Passerby's nervously shot them looks.

She stared at him for a beat, comprehending his words as she rubbed at where he had grabbed her with a wince. Something like hurt crossed her face before quickly turning to rage.

“Fuck you, Levi.” Her eyes blazed, and Levi raised a brow at her tone; he was used to her short temper, but she was usually smarter than to direct it at him. He chalked it up to fear. “I wasn’t going to rob him. I was…” Her anger trailed off as she scrambled to explain, flushing. “Well, I was, um..”

“Convincing,” he snorted, “Get the hell out of here before I turn you in. This shop’s off limits.”

She could only stare at him. Finding only condemnation and disgust in his eyes, she clenched her jaw and nodded.

Eyes hard, she sent him one more glare before turning on her heel and all but storming down the street, fists clenched tightly at her side.

The Captain's eyes narrowed at her retreating back until she turned a corner. Once she was out of sight, he went back in; he still needed his tea.

“Yo, old man. I’ll have my-”

“Levi!” The old man started accusingly, “You can’t just scare aware my customers like that!”

“She wasn’t going to buy anything,” he scoffed, “She was casing you.” At the blank look, he continued, "That woman's a known thief, she was going to steal from you.”

“Oh,” The old man deflated, taken aback “She seemed so earnest, too. With a face like that, I really believed her.”

Levi hummed, “Yeah. I’m sure she came in with some bullshit story. While you helped her, she looked for weaknesses. Maybe even figured out where you keep your cash.”

“Yes, yes, she did have a story, now that you mention it.” The old man nodded, putting it together, “Said she was looking for a brew for a thank you gift. She seemed odd, but I thought she was just embarrassed to be buying tea for a suitor.”

Levi paused at that, then shook it off, squashing the thought.

“Yeah, any friends she has don’t drink tea. You got scammed, old man.”

Sighing, the shopkeeper shook his head.

“Such a shame. People these days, no honor.” Moving back behind the counter, he continued, “But let me get you your regular - discounted, for your help.”

“Not necessary, but I wont say no. Thanks.”

A week later and he found himself back at Louis’ pub, sitting in the same disgusting corner.

It was early - there were only a few men sitting down, getting a head start on the night.

Levi was staring so hard in disgust at the crumbs littering the table that he didn’t hear her come up until she cleared her throat.

If he was anyone else, he would have jumped. Never before had someone been able to sneak up on him.

She didn’t miss his miniscule flinch though, and her eyebrows hit her hairline. He scowled.

“Tea.” He bit out.

“We’re out,” she said with no inflection and offering no further explanation.

He stared.

“How the fuck can you be out? Don’t you keep inventory or some shit?”

“Well,” F/N began, suddenly not meeting his eyes, “I went to go get more but I was unable to.”

“You were unable to?” He deadpanned.

When she remained silently staring at the wall beside his head, he scoffed out something like a laugh.

“Yeah, I ain’t buying it. You expect me to believe that you were actually at that tea shop to buy tea? Bullshit - whatever swill you were serving me before definitely didn’t come from that shop.”

“Believe whatever you want, we still don’t have any tea.” Her face gave away nothing and Levi sighed, rubbing at his brow. Whatever she was playing at was going to give him a migraine.

“Fine.” He bit out, “I’ll take an ale. Make sure the glass is clean, or I’ll send it back.”

Brushing off his warning, she walked away to get his order. He eyed her back wearily - something was off, but he couldn’t pin it on what. She was pissed, sure, but at what? Because he ruined her heist on the tea shop? That was pennies to what Erwin was paying her, she needed to get over it.

So what was it? Did he hurt her pride? She was a good thief, a fantastic spy - what could robbing an unassuming store add to her reputation?

Could she really have been…?

No, he cut himself off. She was a thief, plain and simple. She didn’t need another reason to steal.

Even as he thought it, his mind was already contradicting himself. She was a thief - but so was he, not too long ago. Worse than that, actually. Isabel and Farlan had been too.

And despite their initial meeting, she wasn’t as awful as some people he knew. She was becoming almost tolerable, even. Though her cleaning skills were abysmal.

That played to his benefit though, as he used the ritualistic cleaning of the pub to clear his head, especially after a particularly shitty expedition. It also helped not being alone with the memories of his dead comrades. And F/N let him, oftentimes staying up much later than she would have otherwise.

Not out of the goodness of her heart, Levi reminded himself. He wasn’t an idiot - he saw her intentionally mucking up her cleanup to try and goad him into doing it for her. Not that it ever stopped him.

Their spy was also surprisingly receptive to training - she caught on quick, and only complained when he was particularly brutal. Even after only a few weeks, he was having a harder and harder time landing a hit on her - granted in a real fight she’d still be severely outmatched, but still. Any disadvantage he could give their enemies, he would.

Sighing, he watched her make her way back to him, ale in hand.

“Here you are,” she said, placing it down with a forced smile. Showmanship for any onlookers. “Anything else, sir?”

He narrowed his eyes. Her fake sweetness always made him want to gag.

“Sit.” He commanded, kicking the chair across from him out.

Her eyes widened, though her smile didn’t drop.

“U-um,” She stuttered, moving her eyes to the other customers, “Are you sure that's-”

Rolling his eyes he nodded at the chair before commanding again, more sternly, “Sit.”

Immediately she sat, ankles crossed and not looking at him. Satisfied, Levi reached for his pocket, pausing only briefly when he saw her start shaking.

She was still scared of him, he realized. He supposed that was fair - he did threaten to slit her throat. Still -

“It’s fine. You’re just sweet talking a customer for a higher tip, no one will look twice. You need to relax before some shithead gets the wrong idea.” He pulled the letter out of his pocket slowly, letting her see clearly what it was before sliding it across to her. She visibly relaxed.

“It's from our mutual friend,” He clarified, unnecessarily, “We’re going out of town for a few weeks. He has a job for you in the meantime.”

“Out of town,” She nodded, understanding, “Got it. I’ll get what I can.” She slid the letter into her apron and stood, hesitating.

“Something else?” He asked, perturbed, taking a sip of his ale before grimacing at the taste.

She shot him one last look of irritation, then returned to serving the rest of her customers. She wouldn’t stop by his table again until he had left.

As she cleared it off for the next guest, she smiled to herself at the generous stack of bills left under his half empty glass.

The job Erwin had for her was pretty easy, skill wise. She had surveyed the property a few days prior, and she didn’t foresee any real challenge - security was weak, and the guards were overpaid noble brats. What's more, the mark literally had a ledger filled with his illegal dealings, shoddily hidden in a false drawer of his desk. It would be suspicious if it wasn’t typical - the rich and powerful always thought they were untouchable.

However, as she copied down key transactions F/N quickly realized that this job was actually devastatingly hard - among other things, they were selling people - children, specifically.

With a rock in her gut, she re-read the log entry as memories hit her like a brick wall. Trying to slow her harsh breathing, she dug crescent shaped cuts into her palms with her nails. The pain brought her back to the present.

Swallowing hard, the young thief had barely made it out of the estate after copying the remaining logs. The urge to destroy this monster was strong, and she’d start with this gaudy eyesore of a castle he had made off his sales. She could almost smell the smoke, could almost hear the crackle and pop as it burned to the ground.

The threat of Erwin turning her into the MPs when suspicions grew at why this particular merchant was targeted was the only thing stopping her.

Wasn’t going to stop her from strongly urging Erwin to do something about it in her report though.

As she made her way back home, F/N felt drained. This mission was done late - so late that it was early. A night owl by nature, that fact didn’t bother her - but the quiet meant her mind kept journeying to the fringes of her memory, despite her best efforts at distraction. Her fist clenched in anger, hissing as she aggravated the cuts on her hands.

The rich and powerful were used to getting what they wanted, no matter how fucked up it was. She was living proof of that.

The pub was dark when she arrived, Louis having closed on his own hours ago. She took out her keys to unlock the back door.

“Oi.”

The keys fell to the grime covered ground as she jumped. The loud exhale behind her could have been mistaken for a laugh if she didn’t know better.

“Would you-!” She shouted, wincing at her volume in the quiet alley. Voice dropping to a whisper she continued no less angry “Would you stop doing that?”

He was leaning against the wall, out of uniform but in a cloak with the hood pulled up. She couldn’t see his face but she could feel the smirk.

“I’m here for your report.” His voice betrayed nothing, and it grated on her.

“Well, it's not done yet - I just got back.” Pausing, she added, “You’re not supposed to be back until tomorrow. Did the expedition end early?”

He was silent for a moment more before kicking off the wall, starting towards her. She took a few steps back in alarm, but froze when he picked up her keys and held them up to her.

“Yes. I’ll wait while you write it.” When she remained still, he gestured the keys to the door, waiting expectantly.

Rolling her eyes, she snatched them out of his hand, unlocking the door and letting them both into the dark bar.

Once they were both inside, F/N lit a lantern, heading towards the front. Taking one of the stacked chairs off the table and righting it, she sat.

Levi, for all his big talk, looked lost now that he was inside. He stood like a statue by the door to the back as she took out her notebook.

She tried ignoring him for a bit, but eventually grew agitated as she felt her anxiety spike at his looming presence.

“Would you sit down?” She asked, annoyed. She regretted it almost immediately, eyes darting back to her report.

He raised an eyebrow and she thought he would refuse - perhaps even violently, if their past was anything to go by - but eventually he sighed and righted one of the chairs at her table, sitting. He undid his cloak and tossed it on the chair behind him.

It was an improvement, no matter how small, and F/N could feel herself relax.

Now she just had to write a report to Erwin detailing a child slave ring without losing her shit.

She wrote down the basics; who, where, when - but felt her mind blank on the what.

Levi noticed the hesitation immediately.

“That bad?” He asked suddenly, and she almost dropped the pen at the suddenness of his question.

“Am I that obvious?” She sighed tiredly, leaning back in her chair rubbing at her face.

He snorted.

“For a spy, you have a shit poker face.” Levi paused, before leaning towards her, “What did you find?”

“Not a spy - just a thief.” She answered automatically, eying him warily. Biting her lip, she debated telling him, not sure how much Erwin wanted him to know.

But, then again, Erwin did have him restrain and beat her, so…

F/N flipped the notebook open to her copies of the ledger, sliding it over to him. The thought of saying it aloud made her want to vomit.

Levi eyed her for only a second more before turning the notebook to read. He made it about two entries before his face twisted in disgust.

“Fuck.” He cursed, pushing the notebook away from him. He stood up suddenly, and it was a testament to how tired she was that F/N didn’t even look up.

Hearing the clink of bottles, she watched him dig around the bar before setting an open whiskey bottle in front of her.

F/N met his gaze as he sat back down with his own glass, already filled with the amber liquor.

“No glass for me?” She asked.

“Last time I saw you drink, you seemed to prefer going straight to the source.” He nodded towards the bottle, downing his glass.

She stiffened at the memory. It had been seconds before he tried to shoot her. And then succeeded in breaking her nose. Fortunately for him, she was too tired right now to be anything but grateful for something to dull her mind.

Taking up the bottle, she took a long pull before setting it back on the table loudly.

They were silent for a moment, Levi helping himself to another pour. F/N took another drink.

She could feel him studying her.

“This bothers you.” It wasn’t a question.

“Child slavery bothers me, asshole, yes. Obviously.” She snapped back, stubbornly looking away. Sometimes it still stung how lowly he thought of her.

“No,” He continued, slowly, “This bothers you. It’s personal.”

F/N felt her entire body go rigid, hand clasped tightly around the whiskey bottle.

Levi’s grey eyes took it in, nodding once to himself as if he had his answer.

It was quiet for a moment. F/N took another pull of the liquor and steeled her nerves, picking up her pen once again.

She wrote the details in a clinical manner, the whiskey making her memories a bit hazier. It helped. Levi didn’t ask anymore questions.

When she finished, she sealed it and slid it across the table to him. She held it firm when he made to grab it.

At his raised eyebrow, she took a breath, not meeting his eyes.

“Tell me Erwin will do something.” Her voice was quiet, but carried weight. “Tell me that even if it doesn’t fit the Corps agenda, he won’t-” She swallowed, “He won't let them get away with this.”

Levi sighed, then set his jaw.

“That’s not our call to make.”

Shock loosened her grip enough for him to pry the report from under her fingers. He tucked it into his jacket, eyeing her warily.

Her stunned silence lasted only for a moment more before rage gave way.

“So, what, we just let them get away with it?” She was standing now, the chair falling loudly behind her, “What about the kids, Levi? Do you know what they do-” She cut herself off suddenly, a look of horror on her face as she found herself caught in her own memories.

“Do you know what they do to them?” She began again, breathing heavily, eyes unfocused, “Whatever you’re picturing, it's worse, it's literal hell, and they don’t get it - they’re too young to understand why it's happening to them - and they can’t defend themselves. And you’re telling me that for all his big hero talk that Erwin could turn his back on them...?”

She was ranting now, but Levi let her get it out before countering, “Whatever he decides, he’ll have his reasons.”

F/N slammed her hand down on the table, the whiskey bottle toppling over and spilling on the impact. His hand inched towards his knife on instinct.

“That's not good enough! You think the kids they’re brutalizing give a shit about his reasons!?”

“You need to calm down.” He ordered. “Sit back down.”

She jammed a finger in his face, towering over where he still remained seated.

“I will not calm down - fuck Erwin for using the lives of children as a bargaining chip and fuck you for letting him. If you won’t do something, then I’ll-”

F/N cut off in a gasp when he suddenly grabbed the wrist of the hand currently in his face and used it to lay her flat onto the table, arm twisted behind her. It was a frustratingly familiar position, and she saw red at her own weakness. Whiskey soaked her shirt as she tried to fight him off. He waited patiently while she raged against him, his strength not letting up. When she finally tired, breathing heavily and eyes still furious, he leaned in close, voice a menacing whisper from behind her.

“You’ll do what, F/N?” He wasn’t taunting, but his voice was uncompromising, “Storm the castle, play at being the hero again? At best you'll get yourself killed. At worst, you compromise the Corp, compromise Erwin. If you do something against what he orders, he’ll have me kill you. Or send you to the MPs, and then you’ll wish I did. This isn’t a game, and we have exactly zero say in how this plays out. Do you understand?”

When he could still see the murder in her eyes, he sighed before easing his grip up, just slightly.

“Look - I get what this means to you. And I understand the consequences if Erwin chooses not to act on this information. For what it's worth - I’ll lobby for the end of this scumbag, in the most painful ways I can imagine. But I need you to trust Erwin-” when he felt her tense again, ready to fight, he tried again, “I need you to trust me. Can you do that?”

There was a long silence. Then F/N let her head rest fully against the table, looking away. She nodded in defeat.

“Good.” He stood up, pulling her with him and helping steady her. She rubbed her wrist where bruises were already starting to form.

“I need to head out. Can I trust you to not be an idiot until I get back?” He asked, dusting his coat off and fastening his cloak. When she didn’t answer, he shot her a warning look, frustration evident. “I don’t want to hurt you F/N, but you won’t enjoy it if I need to leave you a reminder.”

The young woman flinched at the threat, but nodded joltingly. “Yeah I got it, Captain.” She spit out.

Levi frowned, but could see she was taking this seriously; her fear left a bad taste in his mouth, but if the end result was her compliance, he’d take it.

“Good. Get some rest - I’ll be back when we have a new mark.” He called over his shoulder, leaving through the back and out into the night.

As soon as she heard the door close behind him, she collapsed to the floor, stifling her sobs into her hand.

#levi x reader #levi ackerman #levi aot #levi #reader insert #fanfiction #gem writes

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