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offbrandkyoya · 1 month

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91 win or lose

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Heizou takes Kazuha outside and he immediately pushes the man into the wall. Kazuha looks at him in shock with a red face. He can feel Heizous breath come onto his face.

Kazuha gulps once Heizou blows into his ear. “Are you ready?” Heizou asks with lust. Kazuha nods and wraps his arms around his neck. He closes his eyes, puckering his lips and he feels Heizous nose boop his own. Yet, nothing happened.

Kazuha opens one eye and Heizou just stares with a frown. “Heizou?” He pulls away leaving Kazuha is extreme confusion. “Heizou-“ “Is that all you see me, Kazuha?” He finally said. “What?” Heizou rubs his temples. “Never mind.”

Heizou begins to walk away but Kazuha grabs his hand. “Wait, Heizou! If it’s about what happened last time-“ “Of course it’s about what happened last time!” He shouts causing Kazuha to let go. “Kazuha, I’m in love with you and you take it for granted! If you can’t handle it then just say it!” Kazuha bites his lip. “I’ve told you, I just need time!” “But I can’t wait any longer! I don’t want to keep doing this Kazuha!”

Kazuha doesn’t respond which frustrates Heizou even more. “You never know what to say and I’ve had enough. Sometimes I wish we never met.” Kazuha gasps, “Heizou, I’m sorry…” “I’m tired of your sorry’s. Do you even love me?” “I-I do!” “Then say it! Say that you love me!”

Kazuha opens his mouth but nothing comes out. Heizou feels tears well up. “It’s so easy for me to say I love you but so hard for me to say I hate you.” He wipes his eyes quickly.

Kazuha grips onto his shirt. “Heizou, please, don’t leave me. I’m sorry, I really am but I’m not ready! You don’t understand, I can’t lose you. If you leave me, I don’t know what’d I do to myself…” Heizou feels tears form even more. “Kazuha-“ “Heizou, I can’t say it because if I do then…” Tears fall from Kazuha’s eyes. “…there’s a chance we won’t last.”

Heizou walks to him and cups his face. “Why do you say that?” Kazuha sniffles, “I’m scared. I don’t want you to…” He looks down. “Heizou, he was the one I loved and spent my whole life with and now he’s gone. I don’t know if I can handle the same pain again. I care for you so much and I don’t want anything bad to happen to you.”

Heizou sighs, “Nothing will happen to me. I’m going to be okay. I’m okay right now.” Kazuha shakes his head, “T-There’s still a chance and-“ Heizou kisses him to stop the man from talking. He pulls away with a sad smile. “Kazuha, let’s end this.”

Kazuha’s eyes widen. “Weren’t you paying attention?” “I was.” Heizou nods. “But Kazuha, I think we should take some time apart. It’s clear that we aren’t ready.” Kazuhas eyes water and he covers his face, letting the tears flow while his body shakes. “I’m sorry.”

Heizou chuckles. “Stop saying sorry.” “I can’t!” Kazuha cries as he hiccups uncontrollably. Heizou flicks his forehead. “Kazuha, everything’s going to be okay. I can’t promise you I’ll be single forever but if we somehow don’t get together again, I want you to know that you were everything to me.” His words only made Kazuha cry even more.

He wanted to apologize but he knew Heizou would still continue to smile. Kazuha said not a word and Heizou stayed with him until he finished crying.

The men hear giggling and Heizou sees a little girl run inside the building. ‘How odd.’

“Albedooooooo!” Albedo hears his name from the stand then grins upon seeing who it is. “Klee!” The little girl runs even faster and jumps into his arms. “Albedo, I made it!” “You did!” He twirls her around and puts her back down. “Good to see you too, Klee.” Kaeya joins in and Klee gasps. “Kaeya!” She hides behind her brothers legs. “What’s he doing here..”

Albedo pats her head. “It’s okay, Klee. Kaeya and I made up.” “For real?!” He nods and Klee eyes him with uncertainty. Kaeya pouts with a hand on his chest. “I’m hurt, Klee! I love your brother so much! Honest!” Klee puffs her cheeks. “Hmmm okay but my eyes are on you!” She points directly at him and Albedo sighs, “Who taught you that?” “Mama!”

You notice Klee and immediately run to Albedo. “Oh my gosh is this Klee?!” The little girl blinks then grins with a nod. “I’m Klee! Albedos little sister!” She waves and you wave too. “You’re so cute!” “Thank you!” Scaramouche makes his way to you and stands behind you. You turn to him filled with excitement. “Scaramouche, it’s Klee!” “Why are you making her sound like a celebrity?”

You roll your eyes. “I always wanted a sibling. It feels so lonely sometimes.” Scaramouche looks up then at you. “I’m an only child I think.” “You think?” You raise a brow. He shrugs in response. “Who knows if my mom got knocked up again.” You pat his cheek. “Let’s not think about that then.” He nods and kisses you.

Klee screams and covers her eyes. “They just kissed!” Kaeya chuckles, “Yes that’s what couples do. You didn’t act like this when I kissed your brother.” “I guess that’s true…I’ve seen worse from you and Albedo.” The four of you look at each other then at Klee. “What’s that supposed to mean?” You ask. Klee giggles, covering her mouth. “If you know you know.” Scaramouche snickers then crosses his arms. “I like this kid.”

Albedo immediately turns red. “Let’s…stop talking now…” Klee laughs and runs around her brother’s legs cheering, “Albedo and Kaeya! Albedo and Kaeya!” You giggle, “It seems nice to have a sibling.” “It’s a nightmare.” Diluc has joined the conversation and he stands by Kaeya. “Diluc!” It’s diluc!” Klee chirps, running to him and hugs his legs.

Diluc smiles and picks her up. “You’ve gotten bigger.” She giggles even more. “Did you hear?” She loudly whispers to the redhead. “Kaeya and Albedo are together!” “I saw.” He mimics her tone. Kaeya rolls his eyes. “Yn, thank god you don’t have an annoying brother like him.” Kaeya points and Diluc scoffs, “You’re more annoying than me.”

You hum, “Still, having a sibling can be the greatest thing ever.” Scaramouche glances at you. “I love Albedo.” Klee says, hugging Dilucs neck. “You say that but cuddle with Diluc.” The blonde sighs. “Dilucs lonely!” Klee pouts and Diluc frowns.

Suddenly, the instructor calls everyone’s attention. She stands in the center where she can observe every single person in the room. “I’m sure you all waited long enough as you’re anticipating the winner of it all.” You instantly grip Scaramouche’s hand tightly.

“Thank you to everyone’s feedback and critiques to each artwork. It was helpful for me to nominate a winner. But first, let’s applaud to the constants who all shined bright today.” Everyone begins to clap and cheer after that. Kaeya kisses Albedos cheek while Scaramouche kisses yours. He whispers in your ear, “Winner or not, I’m proud of you.” You look right into his eyes and smile. “Thank you.”

The instructor pulls out an envelope from her pocket. “And now, to see who will win the grand prize.” Everyone in the room grows dead silent as she slowly takes out the card in the envelope. She stares at it longingly with her smile growing bigger. “Y/N L/N.” She says, looking straight at you with a motherly aura.

Your eyes widen and jaw drop. “I…I won?” Everyone stares at you until you suddenly jump up and down, screaming. “OH MY GOD I WON!!” Your reaction causes everyone to clap and congratulate you. Your friends huddle around you, even Heizou and Kazuha made it. “Congratulations Yn!” Albedo says and you hug him tight. “I’m so glad i got to do this with you!” He smiles and hugs back. “Me too.”

You let go and the twins tackle you in a hug. “OH MY GOD YN THIS IS AMAZING!” Lumine says and pulls you away. You notice both of them had tears falling down their faces. “Yn, I’m so happy for you!” Aether tells you and you hug him separately. “Thank you so much, Aether!” Each one congratulates you with Scaramouche being the last one.

“Yn,” He starts and you look at him, thinking he was going to hug you next. Well, he did, but he picks you up and twirls you around. You gasp in surprise as your hands are placed on his shoulders. “Scara!” He doesn’t put you down but kisses you. “I’m so happy.” He tells you, “I love you, Yn and you deserve this win. I hope to see you paint even more throughout our life together.” You felt the tears come and you laugh, kissing him again. “I love you too Scara! I promise I’ll paint for you forever and ever!”

He twirls you around again which makes you laugh even more. Scaramouche finally puts you down and hugs you once more. He kisses your neck before whispering, “I promise I’ll make you happy and give you a big family.” Your face turns bright red as he pulls away with a smirk. You stutter and squish your cheeks. “Y-You’re thinking about that already? But w-we’re not even engaged!” You mumble but Scaramouche shows you the ring you gifted him.

That only makes you heat up even more. “No way you guys are thinking about marriage!“ Childe points since he overheard your comment. “You’re getting married?!” The twins shout at the same time. “N-No!” You stutter still. Scaramouche says nothing but smile at everyone.

“Aether, why don’t we get married?” Xiao asks seriously, causing Aether to choke. “X-Xiao we just got together! That’s too fast!” “Really?” “Yes really!” You all continue to chat with the tension in the air vanishing and filling with relaxation. Your instructor walks to you all. “Yn,” She says, “Congratulations.” You grin and bow, “Thank you so much for choosing me!” She laughs quietly then shifts her gaze to Albedo. “You did great as well.” He nods, “Thank you very much.”

She goes back to looking at you. “You may proceed to make out with your boyfriend now.” You gasp dramatically, “I-ITS NOT LIKE THAT!” She laughs again but louder this time. “It’s all coming to an end so you may leave whenever you like. Please put away your artwork though as id like to see them one last time.” “Yes ma’am.” You and Albedo say and she walks off.

“Do you want to get out of here?” Scaramouche asks you and you look at Albedo for approval. He chuckles, “You can go, Yn. I still want to show Klee around.” You nod, “If you want Albedo, I can keep my painting up so she can see.” “It’s alright. You can put it away.” “Okay.” Albedo looks up at Kaeya. “Is it okay if we stay longer?” “Of course.” He wraps an arm around his waist. “Gay.” Klee and Diluc say together. “Shut up!” Kaeya kicks his brothers behind.

“If you’re leaving, Yn, then we should get going too.” Lumine states and looks at his brother. “Sure. Do you want to come over at my place, Xiao?” Xiao thinks for a moment. He quietly stares at Zhongli who is a bit shocked that he wants his okay.

Zhongli chuckles. “Xiao, you’re old enough to make your own decisions.” Xiao pouts a little. “I haven’t seen you in forever so I don’t know.” “Are you guys related?” Kazuha asks. “No. Zhongli was just nice enough to take me in when I was a kid because of my situation.” “Interesting.” Venti replies and him and Zhongli stare at each other.

“I’ll get going then.” You say before the two older men start fighting. “Me too.” The twins say. “Ah, Kazuha, Heizou, where were you guys? We were looking for you.” You ask. Heizou shrugs, “Fresh air. It’s stuffy in here.” You nod, “That’s true.” “You’re so naive.” Scaramouche says and you growl. “What the hell?!”

“Yn,” Thoma speaks up. You’ve never realized he’s been basically silent this whole time. “I have to go too. B-Because of work…” “Oh okay. Do you have enough for the train?” “Yes, I’ll be okay.” Diluc looks at the ground. “Bye Yn, Albedo. Congratulations on your win.” He fakes a small smile before rushing out the door. You frown but didn’t want to push him for answers.

“Let’s put away my painting.” You say and you and your boyfriend go to your area. The twins, along with Xiao, bid farewell and left. “I’ll leave too.” Kazuha yawns. “It’d be nice if someone walks me home though.” Heizou blushes then smiles. “Alright. Just one last thing for you.” Kazuha laughs. The boys leave too, feeling more comfortable than ever.

Klee takes a look at Dilucs sad face and frowns. “Diluc what’s wrong? Why’re you so sad?” “Because he lost his chance.” Kaeya speaks for him. Diluc furrows his brows. “What? Don’t look at me like that. You know I’m right.” Diluc puts Klee down so she goes to Childe for him to carry her. He does which flutters Zhonglis heart. “It’s too late, okay? There’s no saving what we had.” “Diluc, you can’t say that if you don’t try.” Kaeya places a hand on his shoulder.

Diluc huffs, “Not everyone has it good like you and Albedo.” “Yeah Kaeya.” Childe spat out and Kaeya pouts. “Kay…well…” He sighs, “Diluc, I love you, but you’re stupid like seriously.” “Wha-“ “I mean, you literally broke up with him because of paparazzi like…have you not watched ANY romance movies?”

Diluc rolls his eyes, “What does that have to do with anything?” “Everything! Diluc, my dearest brother,” Kaeya stands right in front of him, both hands on his shoulders. “You’re terrible.” Diluc furrows his brows. “If all you’re going to do is insult me then-“ “Yes actually! When you told me you broke up with Thoma, I thought you were insane, like, literally. Thoma is the nicest guy I have ever met, no offense babe, and you just let him go because you’re scared of what others will say?!”

Diluc shoves his hands away. “You don’t get it, Kaeya. I didn’t want Thoma to deal with the pressure. He deserves better than dating a celebrity…” Kaeya crosses his arms and opens his mouth to argue once more but Diluc continues to talk. “I didn’t want to keep hiding our relationship anymore. I didn’t want to keep sneaking him into the building or not give him any pda. I want to be able to say I love you in front of people.” He sighs, “I just…wanted us to be normal.”

Kaeya frowns, feeling a bit bad. Suddenly, Childe begins to speak, “No relationship is ‘normal’. Everyone is different. It’s clear thoma didn’t care about all that stuff because he loved you so much. I think what matters most is the bond you both have. Thomas really nice and kind. He’s always understanding and is a good friend.” He glances at Zhongli and catches him staring, which makes Zhongli look away immediately. Childe shakes it off and looks back at Diluc.

“Being in a relationship is hard, believe me, even though I’ve been single since forever but still! It’s hard. But if you’re just going to give up after some…fiasco…then you don’t deserve him.”

“I didn’t give up on him…” “Sounds like it.” Kaeya jumps in. “Diluc,” Childe eyes him, “You let him run off right now. You didn’t bother to talk to him and when you did, you guys just argued. You’re telling us that you didn’t give up on him when you let all of that happened? Will you be happy if he finds someone else? If he moves on? You fight for him. Who gives a shit about what others say! If you get fired then you get fired! You got the guy and that’s what you want! You can become a singer all over again in a later time. Don’t make the same mistake again.”

Hearing that, Diluc breathes in, “Okay. I’m going to win Thoma over.” “Okay buddy we didn’t mean that.” Kaeya says and Diluc frowns. “Then what the hell did you mean?!” “Uh, have a normal adult conversation duh!” “I really despise you.”

Klee, who was still in Childes arms, looks at the men in extreme confusion. “I feel like I shouldn’t have heard all that.” “You shouldn’t.” Albedo states and glared at Kaeya. “It’s a grown up conversation.” “So, I’m a grown up!” Klee cheers but Albedo shakes his head. “Come on, Klee. Let’s go see all the artworks before we go home.” “Yay!!” Childe puts Klee down and she rushes to her brother.

Diluc gulps and begins to head out, hopefully, Thoma didn’t leave yet.

- SO SORRY I HAVENT IPDATED IN A MONTH…

- pretty busy with clinicals and i had to work on this stupid video project 😓

- but we’re near the end…

🏷️ @sakiimeo @coquettemaiden @rmiyuki @kur44pika @theblueblub @jxxji0309 @dreamsofminnie @ohmyfinggod @redactedhimbo @kunisbeloved @akagism2 @sketcheeee @thefandomcrow @beriiov @thenightsflower @yukiipc @scaraapologist @scarletttcroww @samyayaya @crucnhice @monaypo1 @feiherp @myaaones @warcelia @hangecanweholdhands @yuminako @valiryyz @screechingxiaolover @tiddieshakeshownu @ilovechuuyaa @d4y-dr3am3r @dazaisfavgf @swivy123 @ganyusbrideee @sagegreenthinks @the-left-glove @wonderland-fan @kylexzz @kaoyamamegami @whycantscarabereal @rvoulte @eunchaeluvr @lxkeeeee @silvermah @baby-bread-in @yelleloww @magica-ren @itzblazekun @im-inlovewithy0u @featuredtofu @anastaxiah @ask-aph-tanzania @drmyday @what-just-happened-huh @xtobefreex @v4lerixxq @duckyyyx @hannoahs-third-eyelash @brain-r0tt @iota1111 @accio-fandom @kaitfae @tikitsune @salmonieea

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hinatastinygiant · 3 months

Text

35 | Tod

Pairing: Uzui x Fem!Reader

The Emptiness You Left

UZUI'S P.O.V.

Her body lays lifeless on the ground, covered in her own blood. I failed. I spent all this time training her, thinking she was strong enough, but in the end, it wasn't enough. I should have stopped her. I should have done something.

"Uzui!" someone calls out to me.

But I can't move. I lift her head into my lap, cradle her in my arms, and kiss her forehead as dark thoughts swirl around my head.

I should have been there for her.

Tears form in my eyes that I can't control. They roll down my cheeks. Even the scream across the room doesn't phase me as I hold her limp body.

"Y/N," I whisper. "Please wake up."

But she doesn't.

Little do I know, Doma is pinned to the ground, his neck cut wide open, but I don't even notice. All I can do is stare down at her.

It's not until Rengoku walks over and places a hand on my shoulder that I realize where I am. I had forgotten all about the fight we were in. She is dead. Nothing else matters. Why should it?

"Lord Uzui, we're too late. She's-" he begins until I shove him away from me.

"You know, if you didn't make that stupidly flashy appearance then she wouldn't have been bitten!" I shout at him.

"And how was I supposed to know that?" he scoffs.

My blood boils at his words. Ever since he met Y/N he's been necklace around her. Doesn't he understand that she's my apprentice and he shouldn't even be paying attention to her? It's not like she would return the feelings. She doesn't want any of that. And I'd rather keep her to myself than watch her get her heart broken by that brat.

"There is a way. There's always a fucking way," I yell, pulling out my sword and pinning Rengouke up against the nearest wall. My eyes narrow as I press my blade against his throat. "Why did you have to interrupt our fight? Why didn't you let me kill him first?!"

His eyes widen as he shakes his head profusely. "I'm sorry. I-I didn't..."

"What is this worth, anyway," I scoff, letting go and returning my gaze back to her. "If I can't save her, I'm better off dead."

"Lord Tengen!" a soft voice then calls out. My eyes lift to see Suma cautiously approaching us. "Do you really mean that?"

My whole body freezes. It's not just Suma. All three of my wives are standing in the doorway with their swords in their hands. Suma's eyes are filled with tears as she steps forward. "Please, don't say things like that!"

All I can manage to do is shake my head. "You weren't meant to hear that."

"And you didn't have to say it, but it's how you feel..." she replies softly.

As I step back, I unintentionally give them a clearer view of Y/N's cold body on the ground. Suma gasps when she sees her and rushes over. Her hands immediately reach out, but she stops just before her fingertips brush against her pale cheek.

"She's dead, Suma," Makio adds from behind me as she and Hinatsuru approach us.

Hinatsuru nods in agreement as she kneels down and hugs Suma from the side.

"This is a very bad situation," another voice calls out. Simultaneously, Rengoku and I turn our heads to see Master Ubuyashiki stepping his way through the rubble.

"Huh?!" Rengoku gasps, whipping his head around to look for something. "Where's his body? I don't understand, I thought I killed him!"

Master Ubuyashiki shakes his head. "We have to get Y/N back immediately."

Rengoku nods, but all I can do is quietly peer down at Y/N again. Suma wraps her arms around me, but I don't even feel her. I don't feel a thing. Not even as my feet carry me out of the destroyed temple and back home.

***

ONE WEEK LATER

The day of the funeral carries a surreal beauty. The sun shines warmly and the air carries a sweet scent, almost mocking the heavy hearts present. The girls stand beside me, their faces solemn, though I can tell they are hurting the worst. They had become so attached to Y/N in such a short amount of time. Hinatsuru and Makio let their tears flow, while Suma only sniffles. She's cried so much in the past week she most likely has nothing left to shed.

But I don't cry. My body can't seem to display any emotion. Instead, my gaze remains fixed, staring blankly ahead.

The ceremony is simple, a quiet farewell to our dear Y/N. We lay her to rest beside her sister in a peaceful spot off the estate, a place I'm sure she'd prefer. The earth receives her and many tears fall to the ground.

When it is my turn to say one last goodbye, I fix the piece of jewelry around her neck that I had given to her before reaching into my pocket. I look down and toy with the flashy ring in my hand. I'm not sure if it was really her style, I had only really considered what I liked. Maybe she would have liked a ring with more of a simple design.

A single tear manages to slip from my eye as I lean down and press a gentle kiss to her forehead. My heart aches as I slide the ring onto her finger.

"I'm sorry I failed you," I whisper. "I should have never let this happen."

I close my eyes and try to block out the background noise of the others waiting behind me. The next time I open them, her face is gone. Her body is gone, too.

The dirt settles, covering your form, and all that remains is the emptiness you left. It's a void I'll need to navigate, haunted by the memories of your absence, and the future you'll never get to see.

THE END

Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry! It's only a story.

That's what I kept saying to myself while writing this chapter.

I hope you all enjoyed <3

The Emptiness You Left

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bella-goths-wife · 1 year

Text

Daughter reader gets attacked part 2

What had you done?

“Fuck…” David mumbled out in shock

You were still rocking back and forth, the killing of this man had clearly taken its toll of your already fragile psyche.

“Paul, Marko” David snaps the group out of their shocked thoughts “dump the body in the sea and then clean up the blood”

“No way we can’t just leave her” marko protests but quickly backs down with a glare from David where his vampiric eyes flashed to show dominance considering he was the senior vampire.

Marko forces himself to leave the cave dragging the body of the dead slayer. Paul simply crouched in front of you and out his hand on your shoulder.

“You did good kid” is all Paul said before rising and leaving to help marko.

You only seemed to cry harder into your blood covered knees while repeating “im sorry” over and over again as if you were glitching.

David slides himself down the wall and sits next you crossed legged, he puts a hand in your shoulder but you swat it away.

David is determined to get through to you though so he tries to pull you to his chest but you push him away and rise to your feet with a furious expression. David rises with you and braces himself as he again tries to comfort you as he tries to stroke your blood covered cut up cheek.

“Don’t fucking touch me” you smack his hand away and step away from his “this is your fault”

“I know baby” David says sadly as he pulls you to his chest in a tight hug, you punch at him in an attempt to be let go

“You did this to me” you sobbed “you didn’t save me, why didn’t you fucking save me”

“I don’t know baby” he replies as he cursed himself internally

“You don’t love me, you don’t fucking love me you sick bastard” you sobbed into his shirt as your still pathetically punching at him “you want me dead you fucking bastard”

“That’s not true baby” David lowers himself to your eyes and holds you by the shoulders “I would never want you to hurt”

“Then why didn’t you help me, I screamed for you” you cried as you pushed his face away

“I should have come baby, im sorry” David apologised repeatedly

There was a moment of silence as David let’s you sob into his shirt as he holds you close as he feels his cold heart breaking slowly, how could he be so stupid. Your his child and he chose not to protect you. He had failed you.

“Daddy please me it go away” you begged with blood and tears running down your face “please”

“I can’t baby” David felt tears well up in his eyes, something he hadn’t experienced in centuries “im so sorry”

Dwayne interrupted the moment by gently grabbing you by the shoulders and turning you to him

“Let’s get you cleaned up little one” he says as he and David gently guide you to the bathroom. Once inside David turns in the shower and sits you on the toilet

David pulls out a dampened towel and holds your face while he gently cleans the mess of blood. You cringe when he cleans your cuts as it stung. David and Dwayne looked at each other as they had not previously seen you cuts, they both made a mental note to put a plaster on them later

“We’re gonna let you shower honey” Dwayne says as he slowly lets go of you to leave

You reach out and grab his hand and pull him back.

“Can you wait outside papa” you asked with tears in your eyes

Dwayne looked at you as in his mind you morphed back to the little girl who would come crying to him and the others when she had a nightmare and ask to sleep with them

“Of course I can” he kisses your temple “me and David will be just outside” he says as he closes the door and gives you privacy

Dwayne turns to David with a thundering glare and pushes him up against the cave walls and pins him there by the throat

“You ever make me ignore her cries again I’ll fucking kill you david” Dwayne says boldly as he threatens the second in command “you ever put her in that situation again I’ll kill you slowly and painfully, I won’t have her hurt again”

“I understand” David says as he looks down shamefully, usually he would demand respect but he saw this as a fitting threat for his actions

The two stood outside until you had dressed into your Pjs and washed the blood off of your body. You exited the bathroom and fell into Dwayne’s embrace

Dwayne picked you up and carried you slowly towards your room but the tugging of his jacket caught his attention

“Can I stay with you tonight” you asked shyly, clearly half asleep.

You hated this, you felt so childish but you craved their comfort and love after what had happened. You didn’t want to be alone again.

“Of course you can” Dwayne whispers as he changes direction and takes you to the boys shared room.

Marko and Paul are already there and welcome you as Dwayne places you down with open arms. You crawl to the middle of the bed and the rest get into bed.

You put your head on David’s chest as Dwayne’s arms wrap around your middle. You feel your eyes grow heavy as you close them and drift off.

The boys follow promptly all except david who hears you mumble half asleep

“Make it go away daddy” you whisper in your unconscious state.

“I’ll try baby” he says as he strokes your hair “I’m so sorry”

He had a hell of a lot of making up to do to you.

@the-faceless-bride hope you enjoyed :)

#platonic lost boys x reader #lost boys x child reader #lost boy x reader #yandere lost boys #lost boys x reader #the lost boys #lost boy x reader fic recs #yandere lost boys x reader #poly lost boys x reader #dad lost boys #lost boys x reader multi chapter #lost boys

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molter-writes · 1 year

Text

ANOTHER DELETED SCENE

all the disclaimers of the previous -- including and especially deleted for a reason, et cetera -- but these were set somewhere in the epilogue of grey ridge and didn't make it in but i thought i should share with you. (you might notice bits and pieces and phrases borrowed for other scenes.) anyway, enjoy!

------

Alicent is about halfway through the Big Book of Bugs when the lamp shuts off—and the nightlight, and the ceiling stars, too.

Helaena clings to Alicent’s arm, clings to it like a lifeline in the ocean.

(I don’t like the dark, she’d once said; about four hours later Alicent had covered her bedroom ceiling from end to end in softly glowing stars.)

“It’s alright, my love, it’s alright,” Alicent coos, bringing the covers up closer around her. She reaches for her phone and clicks on the flashlight, pressing it against the wall to cast an ambient glow. “I think the power’s just gone out, because of the storm—I’m going to find Mummy, see if she can’t turn the—”

“Don’t go Mummy, please,” Helaena begs.

(And her heart breaks, if only a little.)

“Shh, be calm, my little love, it’s alright.” Alicent gets up, much as it hurts to pry her child’s tiny fingers away from the sleeve of her robe, tucks Helaena further back against the pillows, presses a kiss to her silver hair, sets her teddy closer to her side. “I’ll be just there, just there in a moment, alright? Stay there.”

She ducks out into the hallway, toward Jace’s room, where a moment ago she could hear her wife doing the all the sing-song voices for the The Story of King Arthur—“Rhaenyra, I think—”

She stifles a gasp when hands grasp her own; the shining outline of Rhaenyra’s blue eyes come slowly into focus. “Sorry.”

“There you are. I think the power’s gone out.”

“Yes, apparently so.” Rhaenyra looks up, where their hallway light has gone dead, too. “You stay with them—I’ll go down to the cellar, see if I can’t switch the generator on.” She frowns. “I wonder if we still have the holiday candles in our box—"

“Don’t go.”

Their eyes snap down, then, to Helaena, clutching her blue blanket from the doorway and peering up at them shining teary eyes. “Don’t go in the dark.”

Alicent lifts her right up into her arms, pulls the blanket over her shoulders, presses a kiss to her little temple. “Sweetling, you’ve got to stay in bed.”

Rhaenyra rubs her back, makes soothing circles along her spine. “Mummy’s just going to try to turn the lights back on, my sweet. It’ll be alright.”

“How?”

“Hm?”

“How do you know it will be alright?”

Rhaenyra opens her mouth to speak; not really sure how to explain how utterly innocuous their little cellar is, particularly to Helaena, who’s so understandably terrified by it, but—“Well—"

Then, Alicent, smooth and velvet and without hesitation: “Because your Mummy is the very bravest, and the very strongest.” Rhaenyra watches her, how she cradles Helaena in the ambient light, how she looks back up at her with shining dark eyes. “She will always protect us. And that’s what she’s going to do, right now.”

—

Later, after the generator’s humming along and the children are asleep, Rhaenyra ghosts over Alicent’s kiss-swollen lips and delivers her firm, long, rhythmic strokes.

Alicent only curls her arms closer around Rhaenyra’s back, draws her knees tighter on either side of Rhaenyra’s hips. She knows Rhaenyra knows—hears, even—how obscenely wet she is, after her third orgasm, when she’d been so overstimulated she’d gasped slow, my love, slow, and she’d heard her murmur outside the shell of her ear like the echo of a dream, just one more for me—

“I’ll take care of you,” Rhaenyra had crooned, “Just relax for me, sweetling—”

And with the hot lips at the peak of her neck, on her pulse, her breath had hitched, and she’d unwound, only a little, let her move—and she’d moved assertive, moved commanding, moved to hit that spot, like she always knew, when her body was taut like a bowstring—

Alicent’s lips part and she comes with a cry into the side of her neck, sees stars; Rhaenyra slows, rubs circles into the flush skin of her back, shallow and gentle and easy.

---------

My father always wanted me to be tougher, Alicent admits.

Rhaenyra doesn’t want Helaena to be anything at all, except what she is, who she is, except happy.

She lays Helaena in her little bed, one evening, with her blue pillows and blue sheets and blue duvet, brings the covers firm and sure over her shoulders, adjusts her curtains, tucks in her stuffy just so beside her—the big yellow bumblebee, with plush soft legs and a big smile.

Then, softer than a whisper—

“Mummy?”

Rhaenyra looks back, returns to the bed, strokes her hand along Helaena’s back. “What is it, my love?”

Helaena shakes her head. “Can you check?”

Rhaenyra frowns. “Check what, my sweet?”

“My closet. For monsters.”

Rhaenyra’s lips turn up just slightly, then, as her brow flattens with mirth, with love. “Yes, of course.”

And she goes to the closet, and opens both doors, and makes a show of looking, checking in just the order Helaena trusts—first the corners, then the top shelf, then behind the drawers, then under her hanging things—and then turns with a definitive look, the boardroom look, as sure as she can. “With certainty, there are absolutely no monsters.”

Then she returns to the bed, strokes Helaena’s hair. “I want you to remember something,” she says, and she waits until Helaena nods. “I will never, ever have you anywhere that’s not safe.” she whispers. “Wherever you are, there won’t be monsters. I promise.”

And Helaena nods, and turns her face into her pillow, so like Alicent that Rhaenyra’s heart melts—and falls primly, purely, asleep.

-----

if you enjoyed this and would like more nonsense check out grey ridge (ríl liatroma) and ride the dragon (do it quickly)

#this is my apology text for having worked NONE on ride the dragon 2 #rhaenicent #hotd #rhaenyra targaryen #alicent hightower #rhaelicent

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hurtcomfortficstilltheend · 1 year

Text

The C in Concussion stands for Cuddles!

Lucy Carlyle x gn! Reader (lowkey could be read as platonic)

Summary: The aftermath of the screaming staircase case (Doubt Thou the Stars episode), Reader gets a concussion and there might be some cuddles involved.

Warnings: ghost-fighting (brief), getting a concussion (feeling dizzy and confused), hurt/comfort and fluff (I know, very surprising).

A/N: I really liked how this one turned out :D Lockwood and Co is amazing!

Word count: 1623

Lucy letting go of her sword should have been warning enough that something was off.

Every time she had ever done that, it had been a sign of trouble. She made her way right towards the well in the corner of the dark crypts, moving slowly, in a snooping fashion.

You were trying to keep the angry monks at bay with your rapier, but when you noticed Lucy leaning towards the abyss you decided you needed to intervene urgently.

“Guys! Cover my back please!” you said, already running towards your friend before it was too late. You reached the well and yanked her by the jacket. The both of you tumbled back a little, and she immediately gripped the sleeves of your coat. “Shit Luce, that was ghostlock, wasn’t it?”

Her face was the spitting image of panic. “Yeah, but I found the source!” She looked shaken, but the new information seemed to light up some hope in the group, as you all knew you weren’t going to get out of this one by fighting the wraiths hand to hand (more like silver to ectoplasm). You needed to isolate and destroy the sources. “It’s in the well, their bodies!”

“It’s too late, there’s too many!” You were all on the ground at this point, cornered, trying to stay as far away from the visitors as possible, a job that was getting harder by the second.

The monks’ chanting was drilling holes into your ears, and you guessed that so was the case for Lucy, for she grimaced each time there was a new verse. You blindly searched for her hand with yours, and gave it what you hoped was a reassuring squeeze.

“Lucky I broke the deal,” Lockwood had a proud smirk on his face, and even though his cockyness would usually irritate you, you could only feel grateful as he took the grenade out of his pocket and threw it in the well. “Watch out for the explosion!”

George, Lockwood and Lucy curled into themselves and covered their heads with their arms, but you were a second too slow, failing to prepare yourself for the massive blast that followed.

When you came to, you found Lucy’s face above you. You could see that she was worried, and her mouth was moving frenetically, but you didn’t understand what she was saying. There was a ringing in your ear and you felt an awful headache spreading from your temple.

You felt your best friend’s hand on your cheek and tried to tell her that you were okay, but you only managed to let out a string of incomprehensible slurred syllables.

“Guys I think that’s Spanish, do you think she’s okay?” Luce’s voice came through the fog in your head, and you perceived the ever growing desperation in it. You closed your eyes to put yourself together, fighting the haziness.

When you opened them, the whole team was hovering over you. “I said I’m fine” you uttered weakly, doing your best to sit up leaning on the wall behind your back.

“You definitely didn’t say that” George remarked, which earned a soft elbow to the ribs by Lockwood and a sharp glare by Lucy.

You lifted your hand to the throbbing spot in your temple and gasped when you felt something wet and sticky. Even in the almost pitch black darkness that surrounded you, you knew what it was. “Shit, guys I'm bleeding”

The lack of response told you that you were stating the obvious, they had already noticed.

With newfound energy, they helped you to your feet and started looking for a way out. You felt awfully dizzy, but you decided against mentioning it. First, get the hell out of the country house; then, figure out the head trauma.

The following events occurred with you barely noticing. You were aware there was a fight, and heard the screeches that came from Annabel’s ghost when it was set free; but other than that, you found yourself stunned when you realized it was all over, in the Deprac van.

“I think I blacked out for a second, were we arrested just now?” Your head was resting on the metal interior of the transport, and you didn’t like the tension in the air. You felt like a caged animal.

Lockwood was pacing in the cramped space, George looking out the small window, and Lucy and you were sitting on the floor. “Apparently…” your friend drifted off the sentence when the inspector got into the vehicle. The next thing you knew, you were signing an NDA and going back to London.

“Lucy, I think I have a concussion” you whispered as you entered 35 Portland Row, part of your weight being carried by George.

Lockwood and Lucy exchanged a worried look. “That’s exactly what the paramedics said, love”

“Oh” You lifted your hand to wander around the left side of your head, and you were surprised to find out that the cut was already bandaged. “Shit.” You looked out the window, it was already bright outside. “I need a nap”.

Your friends couldn’t agree more, and after telling Lucy to feel free to yell if needed, (and announce that breakfast would be in the afternoon) she helped you to your shared bedroom, and to your mattress on the floor. She took off your boots, but other than that, you went into your bed fully clothed. You clumsily pulled the covers to your chin, more as a symbolic protection than to fight the cold, and stared at the ceiling for a long moment.

“That was scary” you voiced simply. Your eyes watered as everything that had happened since entering that bloody haunted house downed on you. Your roommate scooted closer, so that she was resting the closest possible to you on the edge of her bed.

“It was,” she responded. She reached down with her hand, and you held it gently before passing out cold.

You heard sniffles, still groggy you looked at the clock on the wall. 9.13am. Barely a few hours had passed since you fell asleep. Your head was pounding, your worst ghost-attack-induced hangover to the moment, but you felt more aware of your surroundings, and the ringing in your ears was gone.

You seated up, and after glancing over to Lucy, you noticed she was already awake. “Hey, you okay?” You mentally facepalmed, that was the stupidest question, of course she was not okay, she was crying, for god’s sake.

She nodded, you both knew it was a lie. “Sorry for waking you, you need the rest”

“You need it, too” Her gaze softened. “Do you wanna talk about it?” She shook her head. She spoke anyway.

“I thought- For a moment back there, I thought I had lost you” you noticed that she was barely keeping herself together.

“I’m here, and I’m fine, okay?” Lucy hastily wiped her tears. You decided that if she wasn’t going back to sleep, you weren’t either. The last thing you wanted was to leave her alone. “What can I do?”

“You were the one who got hurt, and I’m the one crying, I shouldn’t-” you knew that she was about to get herself into a spiral, so you cutted her off.

“I mean it, what do you need?”

She tried to fight against it, but your expression looked so genuine that, in a moment of vulnerability, she caved in. “Could- could you come up-” She patted her bed, “just hold me?”

You didn’t let a second pass by before a gentle “Of course” came out of your mouth. You knew how hard it was for Lucy to open up to other people, and you weren’t about to make her feel like a fool. Plus, you were just as shaken, and you could use some grounding as well.

You climbed up to her bed, now mindful to take off your filthy coat that you forgot before, and plopped down in the spot your friend had cleared out for you. Your head pounded for a few seconds, but you were okay.

Since arriving at the agency, both of you had felt a special connection to the other, but you were taking things very slowly. You were comfortable and felt safe around each other, and that was all that mattered for now.

You scooted closer to her and gently laid one arm around her waist, so that you were hugging her. Now that you couldn’t see her face, she let herself shed a few more tears, and you felt her quiet sobs on your chest. You didn’t say anything, but focused on slowing your own breathing as to calm hers.

“Luce?” Her breathing had evened out a while ago and you weren’t sure if she was still awake. A soft humm from her told you that she was. “If you fart, I’m going back to my mattress”

You felt it before you heard it. Her surprised laugh filled the room with a needed dose of freshness.

She kicked you under the sheets, and a halfhearted “You’re so gross!” scaped her mouth.

“I’m just kidding! God!” then you whispered right behind her ear “I would stay with you, even if you farted right now”

“Bloody hell, you’re unbearable! Shut up and sleep already!” She uttered between giggles.

You could hear the smile in her words, and after a mocking “Yes, ma’am” you went right back to sleep, with your mission of cheering her up a little bit accomplished.

At half past three the smell of something caramelizing, accompanied by George calling for breakfast woke the whole team up.

The four of you were starving, and in less than five minutes, the table was set and everyone in their respective chairs munching on something. Suddenly, everything was okay. You were home, safe, and together, and it was the only important thing in the world.

A/N: Hope you enoyed! Feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated, and requests are open!

#lucy carlyle x reader #Lucy Carlyle x gn!reader #Lockwood and co #Lucy carlyle #self insert #Lucy Carlyle x y/n #lucy carlyle x reader romantic #lucy carlyle x reader platonic #gn reader #hurt comfort #fluff #cuddles #bad jokes #I love this series so much #netflix #l&co. netflix

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fellincantation · 9 months

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19. a memory of someone they don’t see anymore

"Lord Grima."

A voice called out through the dark of the temple and Grima's head rose from the pillow it was rested on. The room was ornate and was a recent addition to the budding kingdom of Plegia, something Grima oversaw personally. The walls were covered in Grima's symbols and it fascinated the young dragon to no end what humans would do for them when they showed their power to them. Grima sighed softly as their body contorted uncomfortably, trying to hold together the makeshift human form it attempted to keep.

"Please, my Lord. Allow yourself to continue resting. There's nothing to worry about." The voice added and Grima's gaze turned toward it. A young man stood at the foot of Grima's altar. Its bed rested at the very top of the short staircase and Grima snorted through its nose.

"Come." Grima breathed, resting its head back down on the pillow. "The dragonstones have failed me and backfired completely. You're lucky I do not rip you apart for what you've done to my form."

The sound of footsteps drawing near only caused Grima to relax further. A soft hand rested on the top of Grima's malformed skull, hair and feathers fighting to poke out from its head.

"Forgive me, Lord Grima. I hoped the dragonstones would stabilize your body but it seems we're running out of time. The Exalt of Ylisse will arrive any day and war will be at our door." He said softly, soothing Grima's aching feathers with his touch. In Grima's arrogance, it was not afraid of what the Exalt would do to them and couldn't understand why her dearest friend sounded so frightened.

"You should not be afraid. Even in this state, I can kill one worm at our doorstep." Grima mumbled. Its body ached terribly despite its strong reassurances. Grima's body was a terrible twist of human and dragon and it couldn't seem to regain its normal size while its human parts were forcibly shed and rejected from its flesh.

"Lord Grima... Please. Form a pact with me. The Exalt has formed a pact with his own false god and we'll have a fighting chance together. You and I can slay the fools if you give me your power."

Grima couldn't deny that he was right. They would need to work together just as the Exalt and that fool Naga were working in tandem. Grima could possess his body and it would all work out in the end.

"Alright."

Grima should have known better. As the Exalt's sword pressed deep into their shared chest they should have known. Grima's fell blood had been passed on from its pact with its vessel but he would fall now and Grima would slumber. Their face was wet and pain radiated outward from their torso. This was it. Humans had betrayed them again. They had planned this from the very beginning. The Exalt had gotten into Plegia far too easily. Almost as if a path had been carved for him. A pained and terrifyingly childish cry left Grima's lips as the realization dawned on them. The sobs and wails of a twisted and barely human child rang through the air as darkness overtook them and their vessel crashed to the ground, lifeless.

#ic #asks #headcanon #(kinda)#// i like to think the first king of plegia was a dear friend to grima #body horror cw #in typical grima fashion ofc

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chadwickbosemanfanfic · 2 years

Text

Please note that this is NOT to disrespect Chadwick Boseman in anyway. This is strictly fanfic. If you are concerned with fanfic after his passing, I totally understand and suggest that you do not read this post. Again, it is strictly fanfic.

THE INVITATION (P 2/3) (fan fic)

(Let me know how you feel about this first series!)

Evalyn pushed herself up on her elbows, her sight blurry. She winced against a bright light, shielding her eyes with her forearm. Closing them tightly, she gave them another try to adjust without the pain. No luck. She moaned against the sharp pain in her left temple as she looked around the room.

Her eyes darted from the bookshelves, a picture where a mounted TV screen should be, abstract paintings on the walls, statue figures in the distance behind her that looked like African kings and queens, and beautiful furniture pieces that made the space look unused. She gasped when she noted the oversized shirt covering her breasts. “Where are my—,” She tore the thick blanket off of bare legs. She stood with intention to get a closer look of a family picture placed on the fourth row of book shelving that framed the picture placed as the center focal point of the space. “Where the hell am I?”

“Los Angeles,”

She dived back to the couch. “OUCH! Shoot, shoo-shoot!” Stubbing her toe on the low coffee table, she ignored the pain and scrambled to return the blanket, covering her thighs. “Who buys a table that low!” With her legs still under the blanket, she stood on her knees on the couch and leaned forward. The T-shirt pooled around her hips. Peering over a tall table and stool, she noticed the open patio door where the sun beamed inside. Stretching, she squinted against the sunrise and noted someone wearing white pants, dark socks, a green shirt and a bracelet or watch on his wrist. Hand behind his head. Hair coiled. Tapered sides. From her view, she could only see his profile. But even then, he looked like—

He cut his eyes at her, turning his head slightly. “I thought it was nice. Came with the house.”

She gasped, popping down out of view. She closed her eyes. An image—or memory?—shot through her mind. It was an image that felt like it had happened before. One of her making a decision she would not make sober. The two of them. Get it together.

His expression had been unreadable but she knew he had taken her all in within that quick moment as she had him. His words were even. Expression was pensive. No smile. Thoughts in his eyes like he knew secrets she hadn’t made yet. To her, it was as a look that would have been more seductive under the right circumstances. Wait, it was Meghan. Her damn edibles. You’re not really here. Open your eyes and relax.

She opened them.

She peeked back over the table and stool again. There was a smirk pulling at his lips. “Wha—,” she laughed, more at herself than at the thought of him. “What the hell is wrong with me,” she closed her eyes, laid back. “Evalyn, get it together. Get it together. Come on, girl, get it together,” she laughed again, rubbing her temples. “What the hell did you do last night, dammit? Think, thin—,”

“Nothing happened,”

Her eyes shot open again and she set back up.

He was standing in the patio entrance now, leaning against the frame so casual like all of this was normal. His arms were crossed with hands tucked under the armpits of his shirt. He kept his distance so she could collect her thoughts. He had seen her arrive at the premiere and was introduced to her on the dance floor and was instantly intrigued by her quick wit and delicate gestures. She had mannerisms that were fluid and warm. Joy in her eyes that made her look like she was smiling even when she wasn’t. When she had slipped her fingers into his and guided him away from the crowd and cast members to a spot of their own on the dance floor, he had followed her lead. Gestured for his team to stay where they were. She was harmless. Though she had lead them during a song perfect for twerking, she’d opted for a bold and seductive face-to-face cute two step that ended with a playful embrace. Without much time, it morphed into a more intimate one when he searched her eyes, listening to every word she spoke. And she spoke fast. Her arms around his neck. His hands near her waist, a thumb playing with the chain accentuating her figure while she continued on. He nodded and laughed in all the right spots. It felt good to just listen. Not to be asked any questions. Not to hear anything about who he was or what he does. In that moment, holding her and listening to her talk about a research article that she couldn’t wait to finish while standing in a sexy leather skirt and halter top, he knew there was more to hear than what met the eye. Not that what met the eye wasn’t already enough. He cleared his thoughts of the night before. Focused on her now.

“Wait, this—You?” She looked around for Meghan, who was nowhere to be found. No sign that she had ever been here. But, there was Evalyn’s clothes neatly folded on the arm of an opposite couch. Her eyes darted in his direction. “Who undressed me?” His eyes were genuine. Calm. She didn’t stare long. She lowered her stare back down to the blanket.

“You said you were hot and that you couldn’t breathe. Then, cold. Couldn’t keep anything down. Despite asking for food,” he slipped his hands in his front pockets. When she met his eyes again, she had an apology or embarrassment in hers. “Guess you had an eventful night?” He smiled, but he didn’t hold it long once he noticed she was not comfortable with this information. “They’re washed,”

“You undressed me,” she felt exposed. Her breasts were free. She felt no bra under the shirt. “Did we… ?”

“No,” he answered firmly. “And technically, you undressed yourself. I helped you put on the T-shirt,” Chadwick watched her closely. He wanted to tell her that he hadn’t seen her fully naked but he couldn’t lie. He didn’t want her to feel more uncomfortable than she already appeared. Or worse. Though, he wondered how much she didn’t remember. She seemed completely present last night from when they met in Harlem to the flight to Los Angeles. Well, until about 30 minutes after eating the edible Meghan pulled out of her purse.

She rubbed her temples. “Are you really Chadwick Bose—Am I crazy? Am I dreaming? What—what is happening? Where’s Meghan?”

“Yes, no, no, you both traveled to Cali last night after the after party for the fashion show today. Return flight in about,” he glanced down at his watch. “Twelve hours. My guess is that she’s with Stephan,” he gestured towards the kitchen. “Can I get you something to drink? Water? Coffee?”

“Stepha—? Who? Please forgive me but I still don’t quite understand. Why—how am I here? Am I really here?”

His eyes narrowed. “You really don’t remember?”

She glared around, pulled at and slapped the blanket. “Where’s my phone,”

He crossed the living room, grabbed her cell from atop the bookshelf mantel. When he stepped to her, she avoided his stare but she could smell him. He smelt fresh. She could see her reflection in the phone screen. Her hair was a mess. Lips stained from the lipstick and sure to disappear whenever she quenched her thirst. Though, her Chanel fragrance was still lingering from her wrists and neck.

“I’ll take the water. Do you have a charger,” she tapped the phone screen with the length of her nails. “Doesn’t have a charge.”

He went for the charger first. “Plug is behind the couch, table. To the left.” Then, he went for the water. When he returned, he set the glass on the surface of the coffee table as she fumbled around with pressing the power button of her phone, wishing it could turn on without a substantial charge. She lingered, tapping at the phone longer than necessary. She wasn’t sure if what she felt was nervousness or shame.

“Do you know her number? You can use my phone. Or, I could call Stephane,”

“Yes, thank you. If she’s with—I’m sorry, Stephane?”

“Stephane James,”

She nodded, but she didn’t know him. “Please call him.”

He noticed she was avoiding looking at him too long. “There’s a bathroom down to the left and to the right. If you need it,” he pulled his phone from his pocket, gestured in the general direction of the bathroom, turning his back to her and heading for the patio to give her some privacy.

“Do you have any…,”

He looked over his shoulder.

“Um,” she smiled, but it was weak. “Thank you for the water and apparently for your help to survive the evening,” she shook her head. “I’m usually never this irresponsible—,”

“You had a good time. I can’t take full credit. Meghan threatened to hire someone to kill me if anything happened to you. Not exactly in those words,” he laughed. She finally smiled. “What do you need,” he turned to fully face her, phone to his ear.

“A pair of sweats? Shorts?”

“Oh, of course. Just a moment,” he took the stairs.

She watched him. His shoulders were strong. Back full and carrying his shirt around his fit torso. When he glanced back, she quickly looked down and poked at her phone. “Why don’t you have a charge,” She was whispering, mimicking the sound of disappointment.

“No answer,” he announced. “I’ll send him a text.”

She nodded. Faked disappointment, again.

When she noted he was up the stairs and completely gone from her view, she brought the phone screen closer to her face, wiping at her teeth.

He jogged back down. She heard him coming before she saw him. She lowered the phone and pretended to be adjusting the charger cord. When he extended a pair of black sweats, she finally looked up at him long enough for her to feel a jolt in the pit of her stomach the moment her eyes met his. A surge of awareness bonded the chemistry between them. The exchange required no words. The silence felt like a question and answer they both shared. Though she knew it was best, she didn’t look away. He smirked. Held back a smile. And just like that, they both burst out into laughter and she snatched the sweats from him. Dropping her phone on top of the blanket, she spun the air with a finger.

“Oh, excuse me, my bad—,” he turned away, started walking.

“Don’t leave,” it was an abrupt request. He stopped, remembered not to look back. “I’m just getting a little comfortable now that I realize you’re not a creepy serial killer in a Chadwick Boseman costume,” she giggled to herself. She had to pull the drawstring to its last stretch. Tied it firmly. “Finished!”

“Me,” he pointed at his chest. “You wake up in someone else’s home and you assume I’m the creepy serial killer,”

“It’s a classic plot twist. Waking up in a strange place with a killer licking his knives,”

He laughed.

She smiled. She got back in the cozy spot she had been sitting. “For the record, you lost,” she watched him take a seat on an opposite sofa, bringing his hand behind his head and slouching like the way she discovered him. Now, his eyes were seductive. But she knew it wasn’t intentional. Though, it made her want to keep teasing him anyway. “You do realize I get to tell people that I beat—THEE—Black Panther in a staring contest?”

He frowned, but he was smirking. “So what? No one will believe you,”

Her mouth opened in surprise. “Sure they will,” she looked down at the screen of her phone illuminating on top the blanket. “The tabloids certainly will believe me once I take pictures of this amazing living room,” she went to her camera and lifted the phone. She stole a few shots of him on the couch. She squealed when he stood. He was smiling but it was sly. She wasn’t sure if he was going to try taking the phone so she didn’t risk it. She shot up from the couch and made a run for the bathroom. When she felt arms wrap around her waist, she fell into her weight and he came down with her on the floor. She was on all fours and tucked the phone close to her stomach.

When he heard her still laughing, he knew she wasn’t hurt.

“I wasn’t going to delete the picture. I was going to look at it,” he was telling the truth but she didn’t believe him.

“Why don’t you have a full carpet on these wooden floors,” she giggled, pushing his hand away from accessing the phone. The effort made her spin and she rocked back off her knees, her back bumping against his chest.

His reflexes jerked his head back and to the left of hers so that she didn’t head-butt him with the quick motion. From such an intimate angle, he could smell the fragrance on her skin more clearly. Just as he was about to pull them both up from the floor, she looked over her shoulder at him.

Their eyes met. This time, they were too close in proximity to divert their energy elsewhere. Their eyes lowered on each other’s lips. She suddenly smiled, shyly covering her mouth with her fingers.

“I know my lipstick is a mess,” she giggled, dropping her eyes. “Stained lips are—,”

His left hand came to her chin, gently lifting for her eyes to return to his.

“You use humor as a form of avoidance,”

Her brows frowned, slightly. “Not all the time,”

“Now?”

She offered a closed smile as her answer.

He scanned her face. Then her eyes. “I’m glad you told me not to leave your side on the dance floor,”

Her eyes narrowed. “I did not,”

He smiled, nodded.

She rolled her eyes. “I’m such a light weight,”

“Not exactly,” his chest bumped into her back gently. She realized she was leaning against him for support.

Her eyes bucked in surprise. “Hey, be a gentleman. I’m sensitive,”

“I do it too,”

She frowned, unsure.

“Humor for avoidance, sometimes,” he smirked.

“You call that humor?”

“Relative,”

“I suppose so,” she playfully bumped against him. “Meanie,”

“Evalyn,” his voice grew serious. “In an effort to being a gentleman,”

“Um-hmm,” she kept her eyes on his, her response low. Subconsciously matching his tone.

“Can I kiss you?”

… (to be continued)

#chadwick boseman #chadwick #black panther #marvel #tchalla #fanfic #wakanda forever #wakandans #the invitation #marvel mcu #disney

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calcium-writes · 1 year

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All right, well, I need to be able to send Alexandria Burning progress to people- so please KEEP IN MIND this is a FIRST DRAFT and not even a finished one. There is a lot more that I have to write.

If you don't want bone shop spoilers, you should be more or less all right for this version? It just goes into more detail on things that have already been more or less stated (although there's some new stuff in here on Alex, generally known as the Cryptkeeper, and the early days of their deal with Host.)

Our story starts with a boy whose parents who it could not be said were cruel, but only distant, as was the way of the time.

It was not that they disliked him. But he had an older sister, and in those days it was the custom that children were to run about and do child-things while the parents worked. So Mother was always busy with the mending and the cleaning and the cooking and gossiping with the neighbors and selling the fruits of her family's labor in market- and Father always in the fields or working on the ever-unfinished renovations of the upper story to their home.

And it was in such a way that the boy grew up. Closer with his sister than with either of his parents, and the both of them turned half-wild in the forest their home was built in. Although his sister was the boy's main caretaker, and although she was four years his elder, it was rare that he felt young or stupid or naive in her company the way he did when his mother took him to market and the young women of the town would cover their mouths with their hands and exchange glances with knowing eyes. His sister had always made him as her equal. Had always spoken to him as though he must surely understand her- and over time, he learned to.

He is twelve and she is sixteen, and they have built a fortress in the woods out of sticks and mud and stones. She takes the blame when Mother grows angry over the theft of her best sheets to be used as a flag. When she comes up to their shared room after the scolding, she reassures him that she doesn't mind covering for him, and he sits with her as she dries the tears. He is thirteen and she is seventeen, and she comes home from market (which he avoids like the plague, now) with flowers in her hair and a light in her eyes. Preachers in the town square, she says, telling of a new goddess. One of things that grow and bloom and spread. A goddess of life. She says that the preachers sang and danced and laughed with the people, until a woman arrived with eyes like emeralds and a voice like a river. The boy sits in silence as his sister spins around the room, recounting how the goddess chose her from the crowd to be a priestess. He knows this is something he doesn't understand- why give your life to something that will outlive you, leave you behind? He feels young, and naive, and stupid. But he wants his sister to be happy- he owes her a hundred times over. He is fourteen and she is eighteen, and she has not come home in over a month. She is building Vivus's temple with the other priests. It is important. He knows this- she explained it to him before she left, in words even a child could not misinterpret. This is something far greater than her. Greater than him, as well, he supposes. The letters are few and far between, the paper always smelling as though she had packed the envelope with honey. He can never open them without wrinkling the crisp, flawless paper. The walls of their fortress are falling down, now, after two years. Not that there was anything he could really have done to stop them. He is fifteen, and she is nineteen, and she comes home. But it's not her, not really. The goddess explains to his parents how becoming a vessel is such a beautiful honor- how his sister is still there, in her own body, but that she is no longer alone. He sits on the stairs where he can hear the whole conversation, and cries as silently as he can- he understands this far better than he would like to. His sister is gone. If she could not return home as a priestess, how can she ever come back to him when she is serving as the body of a god? He is fifteen and it doesn't matter how old she is. Not anymore. He knows now that he will leave her behind, someday. And there is nothing he can do to stop it. He takes down the flag she endured Mother's harsh tongue over- kicks down the walls of the fortress where there was never really enough room. He stays in the rubble until Father comes looking for him with a borrowed horse and a flickering lantern. Don't cry, he says. Your sister has become something glorious. He sounds as though he's trying to convince himself more than anything.

Mother buys him a book to pull him from his grief. Look, she says, look at these odd symbols on the cover. The person at the market said it was taken from another plane, one long dead now. Isn't that interesting? Doesn't it fascinate you? He understands that she doesn't know how to heal his sorrow. It was never her job. But she is trying, now- so he takes the book, skims through it. And reads it again. And again. It tells of a being with great power, who will make you a deal, and promise you everything you want. The boy doesn't believe it at first- but the back of the book is filled with maddened scribblings, telling of a reality consumed. Whoever had last been in possession of the book had surely used it for something horrible- didn't Mother say it had come from a dead universe? But he knows better. He doesn't want to hurt anyone, so it'll be different.

He doesn't really believe it will work. At least, that is what he tells himself as he braves the market for the first time in years to buy candles and chalk for runes. That is what he tells himself when he waits for the sounds of Mother and Father retiring to their beds. That is what he tells himself when he pulls the curtains back and lets the moon in so he can see the commands he's written in ink and blood across the floor. And it doesn't, at first. Not in the way he thought it would have. He summons something- but it is more akin to the village witch's familiar than some great power. An odd presence, like the air over a fire, with brilliant purple eyes peering through every so often. It hums and purrs and wraps around his arm when he reaches out to touch it. Clearly he has done something wrong- but a companion would not be unwelcome. The boy has never had a pet, after all, and he has never been so lonely before as to need one.

The creature stays with him as he slowly, over time, performs more and more rituals- scribbling runes on the floor when nobody is awake to question him. The butcher begins to wonder why he needs so much pigs blood- so one day, with his mother's sewing scissors, he takes some of his own instead. He sits on his bed afterwards and cries, and his creature presses up against his ribs to comfort him. It is bigger, now, than it was when he first summoned it. He decides the growth is likely due to the way Father complains of the coyotes getting into the chicken pen again- even though he finds the half-eaten predators under his bed more nights than not. The boy can't find it in himself to scold his creature, though, so he just cleans the blood from the floor and buries the small corpses in the woods. After all, he doesn't know how else to feed it.

One day, as he scrubs the evidence of his latest ritual from the floor, his creature speaks to him. Just his name. He's not scared of it, he promises, not really. Even if it does stare at him with more eyes after every ritual. Even if he's never sure if it was quite that big yesterday. Even when a shepherd comes into town, saying that the great wolf terrorizing his herd is dead, giant rips in its hide and eyes scorched from its skull. At least it doesn't hunt Mother's chickens anymore.

He continues the rituals, and his creature begins to speak more. The size of a child, by now, it whispers in his ear- that this is what he was trying to summon in the first place, but it can only project so much of itself here. Every ritual opens the door a little bit farther for it to come to him. Keep going, it says, and I promise I can help you with your sister- of course it knows what has happened. The boy tells his creature everything, even when he thought it could not understand. But it can make things better, it promises. It just needs to gather enough strength first. The boy loves his creature- this odd haze that rumbles against his chest while he sleeps, that whispers comfort to him every time he wakes up in the night and realizes all over again that his sister is gone. It reassures him every time he grows uncertain of what he is doing- he only wants to be with his sister, no? Surely that is not a cruel cause. Surely she will appreciate that he has been so determined not to leave her behind. So he listens, and it speaks.

The creature tells him that while it is powerful, it cannot always be sure what the rules of reality are. It will power any spell the boy so desires- but he must find the spell himself, else risk breaking his universe. It says, oh so regretfully, that it had tried to help another, in the last universe it went to. It tells, in a sad, quiet voice, of how that reality was broken by its mistake. The boy must make his own spell, it says- it does not want to hurt anyone, this time. That seems reasonable, he thinks. How terrible it must be, to break realities with a single wrong breath. He promises again that he does not fear it. It curls itself around his neck and purrs.

He asks his creature if it has a name. It tells him no, and he does not presume to give it one.

His sister still sends letters, but they don't come so often now. One day, the words come written in a different hand, with flowers dried and pressed. The vessel is settling into her new life wonderfully. The vessel is so easy to work with, and the goddess appreciates her cooperation. The vessel is learning quickly how to communicate with Vivus when the goddess takes control. The boy does not cry, but Mother does. When she thinks he isn't listening- late at night when he's grown used to staying awake. He can hear Father trying to reassure her when he stands on the stairs, his creature coiling behind him. He is so close to breaking. Would it even matter, if he managed to reach his goal? She is gone, regardless- lost to a goddess he has begun to hate. His creature tells him- if he becomes immortal, how much longer will he have to look for a way to save her?

He goes to the village witch, asking for something to make Father's fields grow more thickly. He's brought his own payment- the bones of what his creature brings him. Coyote skulls and wolf teeth. The witch laughs, but accepts it- she is young, not much older than his sister should be. When she turns away for a moment, he pulls books off her shelf and shoves them in his bag. If she notices, she does not stop him. He reads about the theory of death and life. The soul is bound to the body- and inevitably, the body fails, as do all things physical. So surely, the boy tells his creature, if he separates himself from the physical- if he makes his body into a garment he can choose to wear, instead of something that chains him to mortality- surely he can live forever. The creature tells him he is clever. Neither of them ask what will happen when his body, still inevitably hurtling towards decay, fails.

The boy turns sixteen. A year come and gone since he has lost his sister- Mother says how wonderful it is that the boy has recovered from his grief. She can see it in the way he has that light in his eyes again, she says. Not so dull like you were at first. He smiles and nods- it is not acceptance in his eyes, he knows, but hope. Resolve. The scars on his arms grow more numerous as the rituals become more complex- but the boy's creature is growing faster than ever. It speaks clearly, now, telling of what great things they will do together after the boy saves his sister. How many people could they help, with the boy's kindness and the creature's power? It starts to find ways to leave his room without being seen- little puffs of purple fog floating in the dust the boy kicks up when he walks, a whispering scrap of haze floating beside his ear. The boy learns to feel safe at market- those who whisper look at him with more confusion than cunning, now. That, he doesn't mind. He has his creature, and soon he will have his sister by his side again- who else does he really need?

He visits the witch again, playing the role of the curious child whose parents had warned him away from dark magics. She laughs and tells him to listen to his mother- but she shows him how she puts together protection charms, and how she strings together runes and burns the paper in a candle's flame. He watches and listens and when she looks away for a moment to find more ink, the boy takes another book from her shelf. She notices this time, for certain- but only tells him to go ahead and try, if he wants to. She tells him there is no witchblood in his family line. He knows this well enough, but he also knows he won't need it. By now he likely reads runes better than she does, and his creature will power his spell.

The boy takes the book home, and writes his spell. And he's certain it will work. But he doesn't give it to his creature yet. He thinks, maybe- he should have a plan before he makes himself immortal, no? He should know how he is going to fight a god. Because by now, this is what he knows he must do. Every letter written home penned in a stranger's hand drives it home farther that the goddess will not let his sister go so willingly.

#Alexandria Burning

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af-daemonicus · 2 years

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In the many years since the events of the Nerevarine prophecies, things had changed for Mother Morrowind. Her temples now lay in ruins, her city stripped back to its old name of Mournhold, and her once devoted followers came to see her as a heretic, a traitor, and a murderer. Too weak to push back Dagoth Ur and his forces, and driven by madness to kill Sotha Sil. But you know different.

You make your way down the stairs to her make-shift temple, hidden in the depths of some ash-covered mountain. It is nowhere near fit to represent her grace, nor her power, but you have at least made a start. As you reach the bottom of the stairs, you kneel down at the base of the statue that has been erected in her honour. The plinth she stands on, towering over you, is littered with various offerings to her. Piles of gold are scattered around the place, between letters, flowers, food; all left as silent tokens of appreciation. Very few know of her existing statue, and fewer still know of the temple that lies behind it, but you are the only one to know the full truth. The real reason that now, after all this time, those who do not recognise the reclamations and see the true value of the old ways have come together to worship her in such a place. She is back.

---

As you make your way into the temple, and then through the hidden passageway buried deep within, you soon reach a door. Entering, you take a moment to admire everything. The interior of the main temple is well put together at the very least, but nothing compared to what you have crafted for her in this hidden chamber. The walls are decorated with portraits of her and her achievements, with stained glass lit by magical orbs of golden light that float around behind them. The corners of the room each have a small garden, perfectly tended too, with flowers of such intense colours that are hard to come by now in the ash-covered lands outside of her temple. And there, lounging on a bed in the middle of the chamber, is she. Her legs are parted just enough for the gown she wears to not quite cover everything it should, but still you only see the soft, flawless flesh of her thighs.

Dropping to your knees once more as you approach her bed, you bow your head before her in respect and await her demands for the evening.

“I have returned, my god. My apologies that it took so long to return to your grace, but it proved a little harder to find more of those not blinded by the falsehoods spread by those other gods. But more are beginning to see, oh lady of mercy, and soon your name will be loved once more across these lands.”

Looking up tentatively at her striking form, you see her sit up and lean forward towards you from where she once was laying on the silken sheets of her bed. The golden glows of the dim light within her room highlights her body in such ways that make it difficult for you to remove your eyes from her. As she sits gracefully at the end of her bed, she extends a hand to you and pulls you in close to her, your face now pressed against her navel.

“It is a shame, that you were not as successful as you had said you would be. What caused such failure?”

“I know, but please, forgive me. It is the people. The lies of the reclamations and the Nerevarine have corrupted many minds. But you have my worship, my lady, and those in the temple too. Our devotion is strong, as is our love for you and our respect for your power.”

She sighs and wraps her legs around your torso to pull you in closer. “I know, little one, but you must understand. After his so-called defeat of me, that reincarnation of my husband, what he did to me… they see me as weak. Some pity me, but most just consider me mad. They cannot understand that I was doing what needed to be done. They worship these gods, these Good Aedra, but they do not see that I have so much more power. They were handed their power, born as gods. But me? I took that power. I took those tools, and I cultivated that power. That trust that the people had in us. But the others did not see how much we could truly do. Sotha Sil was brilliant, but he could not get over the pain in his past; not wanting to be the necessary hand of hardship that needs to come down on these pitiful mortals sometimes. He retreated to his city, lost in his own mind. And Vivec, as brilliant as he was… he doubted us. Saw the best course of action as simply survival. But I knew that I could be so much more. So next time I send you out to tell the truth of the Tribunal to the masses, you do not return until you have been successful. Do you understand me?” Her thighs tighten around you at her words, squeezing you so tightly that a brief moment of fear passes through you, before you manage a rushed response.

“Y-yes, Almalexia. Of course. Please, allow me to make up for my dereliction. I… I wish to worship you again.” With your words, you fall free from the grip of her strong legs and are motioned to join her sat next to you on the bed. Wordlessly, she takes your hand and guides it between her thighs, directing you to have your hand resting against her sex but preventing you from anything more. The warmth of it is inviting, and you turn to look at her, waiting for permission for anything more.

“Do you think that after you have failed me in such a way, you can simply come here to my temple and ask to be given what you want? Allowed to satisfy your pathetic mortal pleasures? Where your hand is is reserved only for those who can do as I ask properly. Those who have earned my generosity. Move your hand.”

“My god, please… I can ma-” A sharp pain spreads across your cheek, before fading to a dull warmth, and Almalexia’s hand rests once more on her lap. You swiftly comply with her earlier demand, not wanting to make things worse from you than you sense they already are.

“Do not go against me. You know that it will not end well for you. I do not give you these tasks simply out of some mad need to be loved. You love me, don’t you darling? You are devoted to me.”

“Y-yes” you barely stammer out.

“Good. Then I am right. I do not need this devotion that I employ you to seek simply to feel loved. I need it to take my rightful place; to prove to everyone that they should bow down to me as their one true god, who has risen from the ashes of the Tribunal. And without that, I stay trapped in here. But you know that I need to replenish my strength. And as you have failed to bring me anyone who will willingly give up their power to feed mine, it is your responsibility to make up for that.”

You begin to protest, your mind full of fear now as you recall that you had been promise that she would not take from you, but you are interrupted by her soft, strong hands against your throat pinning you down to the bed. You come down with some force against the silken sheets as you are left powerless to her, unable to do anything but watch as she crawls on top of you. You know better than to struggle, and so simply lie still as she kneels, one leg either side of your head, and lowers herself on to you. Had it been under any other circumstance, the taste of her cunt as it rests against your lips would have been enough to put you into an almost trance-like state of adoration and compliancy, but you know her motives here. She is preparing you to be drained of some energy, though how much you are not sure. Despite your fears, you feel as if compelled to extend your tongue and worship her. It is as if the very scent of her sex bends your will to her own. Still hesitant at first to give in to her, fearing her power, you extend your tongue and run them along her lips, occasionally dipping to the side to gently kiss her thighs. This hesitancy is washed away quickly the moment her sweet taste hits your mouth, however, and it is not long before your tongue explores every part you can reach, dipping inside and drawing out moans from the living god above you. They sound like nothing you have ever heard before, as ethereal as the first time you were blessed with the sound, and they encourage anything to draw more from her. Her hand moves to your soft, though messy, hair and tugs gently. After once more kissing at her thigh, your tongue presses flat against her as you lick one deliberate line along her cunt. As you feel your tongue caress her clit, you withdraw it again, instead pressing your lips against it as if in a kiss. She tugs your hair once more, impatient with the way you have slowed down, until you draw out a moan louder than any before. With your lips against her in such a way, you gently begin to suck at the sensitive area, and you can tell from how she reacts that it has the intended effect. You continue, only stopping every now and then to lap up some of the addictive nectar with your tongue, until finally she reaches her climax. For a brief moment, the reality of the situation hits you again as you realise that your resolve is being pulled from you by her cunt as she releases onto your face, but the thoughts are soon washed away by a feeling of warmth and pleasure that spreads across your whole body.

---

As the bliss dulls your senses, you lose track of where Almalexia moves for a moment as she pulls herself away from your mouth before you feel her hands removing the remaining clothes you had on. In preparation for prayer, you had changed into blue robes out of your travelling gear, removing shoes before entering her chamber, so removing the barriers to your body was simple. She kneels beside you once more, this time on one side of your body, before bringing a knee to your chest and pushing you back down further against the bed. Taking your now throbbing member into her hand, she begins to lean in close to your ear as she teases.

“I can sense your protest. While I may have charmed your body into submission, I know what you’re thinking. I hear you pray to me every single night, my darling. What makes you think I cannot hear you now?” You shudder slightly, knowing that disobedience in this way would be seen as heresy to many. “But don’t you worry, my love. I won’t hurt you. I know how much you have devoted to me. All I’m doing is taking enough to ensure that you never fail me again. Because if you do, I will use the soul that I am going to pull from you to fuel my uprising and tear it apart as I do so. So, you can beg and whimper and whine all that you’d like, but it means nothing. I am your god, and if you do not bow to me willingly, I will break you into doing so.”

“P-please, my god… I… I can’t survive without my soul… fuck… please don’t take it from me, I’ll… nggg, I’ll do anything, but… mmg, you promised me I wouldn’t… have to give anything…” Your words are broken, the sentence punctuated both by moans at the feeling of her powerful yet gentle hands stroking your cock as well as shaky breaths caused by the fear coursing through you.

“I promised you when I thought that you would serve me well. But I now see that you are no better than the others. So, think of this as encouragement. If you can pull through this, regain your strength, and then go out and serve me properly in bringing me worshippers who see my true power, then I will spare you. If not, you will become another martyr to my cause. But you’ll pull through, won’t you, my slave? You are strong. Devoted. You would not simply abandon your god. If you truly love me, as you claim, use that to give me what I want from you.” Her words cause conflicting feelings, the harshness of the threats mixed with the soft reassurance of your devotion leaving you scared and confused, yet desperate for her. She removes her hand from you, and her knee from your chest, and pulls your head into her lap. Gently, she wipes away the beginnings of tears that had formed in your eyes, and pulls you in once more to be close to her navel. You feel her encouragement as you desperately begin to kiss and lick at her beguiling form, until she pulls you away once more. Pulling you to your knees too on the bed, she kisses you roughly before pushing you onto your front and running her hands along your back. Down, from the nape of your neck you feel her fingers drag, past your shoulder blades and your lower back, before coming to rest on your ass. Her fingers move down further, feeling your inner thigh, before bringing her hand up to rest again where it was before, pressing against you somewhat before she flips you over and onto your back.

Something about the way her hands felt on your body had left you exhausted, but this was not unknown to you. In praying to her you had seen what she could do to people, particularly those who disobeyed. You thought back to the threats of reporting the members of the temple to the local House, and what had become of that woman… quietly you whimper, and begin to beg for an escape, but it is worthless. Who do you pray to when it is your god who is pulling you into her, offering no form of escape? As you sink deeper and deeper into her, your body now completely unable to do anything but lie vulnerable, exposed to her hunger. Your protests grow more frantic, until you are met with a gentle, soothing shushing before your head is pulled up into her chest, your mouth encouraged to meet her soft breast. Her form, in your weakened state, seems somehow more beautiful than ever. Looking up at her as she moves above you, now coaxing out your soul through your cock, you are enthralled by her beauty. Her pale skin seems to glow in the light of her chamber and her hair, no longer pulled up into its usual style, cascades down her body beautifully. Soon, your silenced protests turn to muffled moans of pleasure as finally you give in to her fucking you, and you feel not only the usual climax build within you, but also the tug of your soul from deep inside. For a minute, you cast your mind back to that traitor woman. How she had been strung up just as Sotha Sil had been found, above this very bed, half dead. But what should have been fear at the memory soon turned to arousal. The knowledge of her power, being at the mercy of such a god benevolent enough to allow this intimacy with such a pathetic mortal. You do not care the cost at which it comes. You had failed to serve her well. But she is making you better. She is helping your devotion, encouraging it. And you love her. So, you give her what she asks.

As you give in, two things happen at once. Pulling yourself in tight against the divine figure above you, you feel yourself spill into her. Not just pleasure, but your very being. Your soul, taken from you as an act of service. The combination of the two leaves you incredibly weak, yet she seems stronger than she has in years. Decades.

“I… love you, my god.”

She smiles dismissively. “I know. Now, you just lay there until you get your strength up, and then go do as I asked. Properly.”

You feel your vision fade to black as your consciousness fades, the last thing you see being her walking away to a smaller chamber off to the side of the one you’re in, taking no interest in ensuring your recovery. You’ll pull through for her, she knows this. Who would you be to disobey your god?

#almalexia #nsft

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itsgothgirlthyme · 2 years

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Edin and Zatanna s3

I have a spin off I guess, after a certain event which will be official in my fic I had this scenario in my head. Nightwing ended up giving an important mission to Edin which she has to be quiet about. In the end she gets really hurt and he was too ashamed to talk to her about. Edin runs away and turns to villains for some reason. So this is my scenario with her and Zatanna after it all. It takes place in s3.

Note: I hate the spacing in this halp, and I like that i haven’t given the actual story but instead have posted my non-canon things… my grammar is so bad- so please keep that in mind also :,)

Cw: Violence, hurt stuff, if others let me know :)

Word Count: 1883

—

Running inside the temple with overgrown vines and cracked stone the young woman took in the darkness. Slowing her pace as her shoes echoed throughout the old building. Being sent here annoyed the fallen angel but she rather be doing something with her time.

Perhaps she should have taken Cheshire’s offer but that meant she might see Batman and Edin had a feeling it wouldn’t go too well. Brushing off the thought she continued her walk. Her fingertips brushed up against dusted walls that were cool to her touch.

The woman watched through her plain black mask that hid her entire face for anything out of place. When nothing caught her ears she eased her stretched out fingers.

Easy grab, she thought. Though she still didn’t understand why someone more, magical, had taken the job. She barely was in touch with any of her magic and only used it if necessary these past years. The woman dressed in black suit adjusted the mask that went over her once bright copper eyes. The mask hid the true frame of her face and was made wood, it was a parting gift from a fellow assassin. There were slits for her eyes to see through but were covered by a mesh.

“In and out,” She sighed and walked into the open room that made her stomach turn.

Pillars raised the middle of the temple and circled around multiple entrances. In the middle of the room there was a much shorter pillar with patterns and ruins inscribed in it. On top of it, covered in moonlight, made the woman gasp. Laying there casually was a pitch black necklace that held the form of a curled up wolf. It was smaller than the palm of her hand but the power it held was immeasurable.

She edged closer to the middle of the room. That’s why they wanted her here, because she was one of the few who could retrieve it. The piece of jewelry was crafted by the goddess of death herself.

Pause.

Mouth dry and hands stuck to the brunette girls' sides. Her body stiffened and she stared in shock. They wanted her to use it.

Interrupting her thoughts a white light at the other side of the room made her look straight at it. Edin waited for the dramatic entrance to be over.

Gloved hands made their way down to her thighs, where straps for her knives laid. Immediately the aura of the guest in the temple made the girls lips part.

Standing on the other side of the room was an old friend and someone who would have to be an enemy. A woman with black hair was wading a magician inspired outfit looked around the room

Swallowing any potential words the other woman slowly walked up to the podium. Eyes snapped across the room and the magician watched her.

An incantation formed on her lips and pushed the former hero to a wall. A grunt escaped Edin’s lips from the impact. Slowly the villain pushed herself up from the rubble. Not too fazed by the warning. She got up and felt her body already healing up any new scratches and bruises.

The justice league member wide eyed, watched the woman rise from the rubble with ease.

The enemy wouldn’t look her in the eyes and instead decided to run towards the podium. Quickly another sentence escaped Zatanna's mouth and the villain was pushed down to the ground. Edin’s body felt incredibly weighed down as she sat on her knees and hands.

“You should go rob a museum or bank instead,” Said the former friend with slight annoyance.

Zatanna huffed and was tempted to scoff. Clearly she hadn't planned her night with a thief who thought they could wheeld a death charm.

She actually scoffed and the other woman pushed her hands to the sides and grabbed her knives. Two small blades sped their way to the hero who easily dodged them but gave enough time for the villain to get off the ground.

Taking in a deep breath she felt a warmth in her chest. That spread across her body and focused the heat on her hands and feet. Still on her knees the woman punched the floor with one fist. Cracking the ground underneath the two and making the building crumble. The pillars across the ancient building slowly started to make the temple fall in itself.

Another incantation created a light around the room that stabilized the thousands year old temple. In those seconds of the incantation a breeze hit the sorcerer's face and she was punched in the stomach.

Tumbling on to the ground the woman gasped while resting her hand on her stomach. Zatanna opened her mouth for another spell even out of breath. Though she was stopped when a piece of cloth replaced her words.

A hand pushed her head down as she attempted to get up. Zatanna let out a groan from the stone hitting the back of her head. Quickly a pair of hips wrapped around the leaguers. The masked woman looked down at the person she called a friend once. Heart rising, the old friend tried to move but was stuck under the weight of the other.

The cloth was now tied around Zatanna’s mouth to the back of her head. Knock her out and leave, Edin told herself but couldn’t resist the craving she had. The one for attention.

Curiosity got to Edin as she kept the woman on the ground. She hadn’t seen any of her friends this close since she left two years ago. She’d wondered why they had given up on her. So easily as well. Not even the one who drove her away came to her.

Slowly while her own breath got slower and her heart now beat at a comfortable pace. Her hand that covered the woman’s mouth slowly pulled away. Loading her head to meet the other ear she let out a low whisper.

“Did you get weaker without me,” She said softly in her old friend's ear.

Breath hitched and choking on the cloth Zatanna looked with wide eyes. Watching the other pull away and continue to look down at her. It only took the magician seconds to recognize her best friend who she thought had given up on the world of heroes and villains was sitting on top of her.

Muscles relaxed under the goddess' grasp after the realization. Feeling exposed, the angel slowly backed away from the curious eyes. Her heart slowly picked up pace and a twinge of relief escaped. Releasing the hold on the cloth and letting her arms free. Slowly the raven haired girl took out the cloth and raised her upper body.

Craning her neck towards the brunettes while being inches away from each other. Cold hands wrapped around the sorcerer to unwrap the cloth. Still not budging from her spot she made eye contact with Zatanna.

“Oh my god… Edin,” She said under her breath not truly believing the presence in front, or was on top of her.

Gentle hands wrapped around the ex-hero’s back as her eyes widened. Eyes that were on the brim of tears under a mask. Slowly she wrapped her arm around her friend and cradled her head with her hand. The old friend rested her head on Zatanna’s shoulder and the tears escaped. The angel wrapped her arm around the other woman and used her other free hand to take off her mask.

It clunked on to the floor as the sobs continued into her best friend's shoulders.

Moments passed with Edin letting out what she had held in the past couple years. While Zatanna sat on the floor and gave her all she could offer. Her kind heart was banging against her chest but she did her best to cover it up.

Pulling away the shorter woman slowly got off the other. The black mask was once again in her hands and she got up. She turned around but before she could get far a hand was wrapped around her wrist.

Watching Edin hiding up her tears put a bad taste in the sorcerer's mouth. She’d always hated her hiding her feelings from everyone and she even warned her it wouldn't do her any good. Which showed in that moment.

Now standing, Zatanna eyed her friend back.

“What happened?” She asked with eyebrows furrowed and voice laced with concern.

Shoulders moving as the fallen angel turned back around. Copper glazed eyes stared down at the ground.

“What do you think happened?” The brunette asked not with annoyance but genuine curiosity.

Rising from the floor the taller woman kept her eyes on the fallen angel. Eyeing her shoulder blades, noticing the spots in between them were covered up by the black suit. Zatanna had remembered the news distinctly of when she lost her wings. She felt god awful and did her best to comfort Edin. Which worked and the two had become close until something went wrong and Edin abruptly left.

She recalled the night the girl had walked into her home drunk and she had told the magician everything. She explained the wings were a part of her that created her hero identity and represented her mother. The legacy that distinguished herself from others.

Blue eyes blinked as Edin looked down at her mask. Gently holding it in her hands while whipping any left over tears.

“Nightwing… told us you had to take some personal time. That he would talk to you.” She regretted her words because she knew at the time something was wrong.

Clearly she was right because the goddess formed her free hand into a fist. The woman could only hold back more tears and her anger.

Zatanna told her friend that she felt guilty about her actions as tears streamed down her own pale face. The guilt in her chest consumed her head and made her forget the reason why she was here.

The copper eyed woman eyed her mask that she had worn the past two years. It sickened her that she chose a much more violent group of people to help but the heroes were just as violent. They also told lies, created mistrust between each other and made sacrifices for the “job”. Then justifying them. Some villains did the same but quite a few didn’t.

The ‘villains’ she met and befriended over time showed similar traits towards society’s ‘heroes’.

There were those that comforted her while they took care of her broken state and helped her rebuild. Finally someone had listened to her words and took them to heart. While overtime she was able to help them. They also had a code of honesty.

On the other hand the heroes she grew up knowing became family. Took her in and helped master her abilities. Let them help her mission of helping others. Despite all the good there were those that neglected her issues and the ones she trusted the most betrayed her. One thing she knew was that she never gave them a chance to forgive her but they clearly didn’t show interest even now. Except the person she adored the most was only a few steps away. Crying her heart out because of Edin.

Now she faced the question. The question she was warned about. The one she wasn’t ready to answer.

Which family would she choose?

#dc #fanfic #original character #healer #bi things #f/f #zatanna #angst #my fic #nightwing #young justice #fuckkkkk #young justice season three #joking justice season 3 #dick grayson #zatanna zatara #hawkwoman #fic #hurt

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modmad · 3 years

Photo

Part three! The last part of this comic, thank you for all the kind and encouraging comments on the previous posts! You can also read the whole thing full size on my home website where you can find many more duck comics- if this was your first one and you enjoyed it, why not have a look?

Part one here / Part two here

#gladstone gander #magica de spell #magicstone #duck comics #mod art #thanks for reading!#and now to never draw a crocodile again as long as I live...#doodle comics #please understand all the walls in this temple SHOULD be covered #in luxurious paintings and carvings #BUT I AIN'T GOT THAT SORTA TIME LADS

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galaxysgal · 2 years

Text

Flicker || Matt Murdock

pairing: matt murdock x fem!reader

summary: matt wishes you would tell him whats going on inside your head.

warnings: soft angst. nightmare mention but no detail.

A/N: for @wtfobiwan, thank u for encouraging me to write this when all i had was vibes <3 this is just a little oneshot I wrote between working on Love and Ethics :)) enjoy the hurt/comfort

wordcount: around 650

xxx xxx xxx xxx xxx xxx xxx xxx xxx xxx

It’s quieter, now that your scream has finally stopped playing on repeat in Matt’s head. He's standing in the kitchen fixing you a little something to eat, hoping it will aid in bringing you back from the depths of your mind. He listens to the steady drum of your heartbeat. The pitter patter of the rain against the window. The flicker of the lighter in your hand.

You flick it on, over and over. Holding the flame for a good thirty seconds each time before letting it go. He likes the sequence. The click of the trigger. The crack of the sparks. The whoosh of the flame.

He wishes you would talk to him.

There’s something unspoken between the two of you. Actually, everything between you is unspoken. The way he comes to you when he’s hurt, burying his face in your neck as you patch him up and place sweet kisses over his cuts and bruises. The way you come crawling into his bed after you’ve had a nightmare, shaking, tears streaming down your face. He holds you tight to his chest and strokes your back, keeping you as warm and safe as he possibly can.

He had done that tonight.

He heard you come in through the door, picking the lock with ease. He really should give you a key- you have a toothbrush at his sink and a box of your favorite snacks in his pantry. Some of your clothes have wormed their way into his dresser. A pair of your shoes sits by his door.

He had assessed the situation as you made your way to his room, stopping in the kitchen for a glass of cold water. Your heart rate was high and you were shaking, but he couldn’t taste copper in the air or sense any wounds on you. Physically you were fine.

You crawled into his bed, tucking yourself in under the covers and curling up on his chest. You sleep peacefully, at least for a while.

Until your mind just betrays you again.

Matt knows you have nightmares. He often wonders where the come from. He takes such pride in protecting you, though he knows you can handle yourself just as well as he can. The one thing he can’t protect you from is your mind.

Click.

He senses movement. You’re holding your fingers a few inches above the little flame. Matt zeroes in on the movement of your face, trying to read your expression. You seem numb.

Toast pops from the toaster and Matt senses you flinch. Once again he wishes he could know what was going on in your head. He quickly butters the toast and adds your favorite spread, bringing it over and sitting beside you on the couch.

One warm hand cups your jaw, then slides up to your cheek. His thumb brushes away a newly fallen tear. "Sweet girl, tell me what's going on in your head," he murmurs, "please."

You just shake your head like always, and flick on the lighter again. He feels you sink into him, free hand reaching for the plate of toast.

Matt understands the walls you've built up. And he knows he has his own walls, too. He hopes that one day the both of you will be able to tear them down. Maybe not all at once, crashing down completely. Maybe you'll dismantle them slowly, brick by brick until there's nothing left to separate the two of you.

Maybe it's already started. You're the first girl he's let stay with him like this, he's nearly asked you to move in more than once, you already sleep here practically every night. And he seems to be the only one you feel comfortable enough to be this vulnerable around.

He removes his hand from your cheek as you take a bite of the toast, instead placing his arm around your shoulders so he can hold you close. His lips find your temple, pressing a sweet kiss as you lean further into him. He won't press any further tonight. What you need right now is the comfort of knowing he's there.

End.

taglist: @parzival3 @djarinsidebitch @anothersworld @daremartyevil @slutforblueeyes @stilinski-lover-24 @murdermornings @punkerthanpascal @himarisolace @deceitfuldevil @dontsaypetertingle @jk6700 @zabblegrabble @yikes-buddy

#matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x y/n #matt murdock x you #daredevil x reader #daredevil x y/n #daredevil x female reader #matt murdock x fem!reader #matt murdock fluff #daredevil #matt murdock #mags writes #matt murdock <3 #dead god i havs written his name too many times in these tags

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angelplummie · 3 years

Note

Okay so like for starterssssss, I love getting represented as a chubby gal 🥺🥺 so I love you for writing that last Oikawa imagineeeee 😩😩😩

Soooo, I was wondering if I could request a plus size reader that really likes Kuroo, (and he’s like a super cliché bad boy🤰🏽) but he’s too embarrassed to be seen with Y/n. So she starts to hit on his friend or try to make him jealous. (I want you to add your own little idea here! But likeee, make her a baddie 😘😘)

Thanks baby 😚

HE’S A SCUMBAG DON’T YOU KNOW

KUROO X CHUBBY F!READER

Angsty?? kinda, a pinch of suggestive stuff

masterlist

post girlboss was referring to

a/n:i decided to go for emo / anger issues / definitely has punched a hole in his wall kuroo, just cuz i love writing losers, and i love seeing grown men cry. reader is like 20/21 just like college age yk, kuroo is 23 as stated in fic. p.s where my artic monkey hoes at

warnings: swearing, mentions of sex n specific sexual acts, suggestive stuff, uhhh bad boy but he’s not a (bad boy) he’s just a (bad) (boy) he’s just no good, like no fr never date guys like this, he may SEEM COOL and give you the dick but girl you will be so embarrassed once u realised u gave up the kitty for a man that genuinely believes tame impala and mac demarco are unheard of and calls himself an empath even though he’s mean to his mum every time she comes over to help with the laundry and has manipulated every girl he’s ever been in the vicinity of but i digress! on with the story!

“Kuroo-!” you yelped in surprised, bed bouncing beneath you. The second he had thrown you down, he ripped off his shirt and made a noise of frustration when he couldn’t shed his skinny jeans fast enough. Brows furrowed, he began hopping furiously to yank them off.

You laughed, much to his annoyance.

“You’re gonna hurt yourself if you keep up with that. What’s the rush?”

He sighed, and carefully pulled them off his ankles. Standing up straight, he seemed to have composed himself, with that cocky smirk on his rugged face. Your eyes trailed down his lean, long body. It was all you could do not to scream, he was so gorgeous. He took a few sweeping steps to where you lay, and got right on top of you, hands either side of your head. His eyes bore into you, it made you squirm internally, not that you would ever admit it.

“Just want you so bad, kitten.”

You barked out a laugh as if your heart didn’t jolt at his stupid pet name. It was such a stupid name, but coming from him it made you melt. Again, not like you’d ever admit it.

“Ew, Tetsu don’t call me kitten, it’s cr-“

He cut you off by leaning down and kissing you, you could feel his snake bites against your bottom lip. He groaned softly, shoving his tongue down your throat. He tasted like his sour apple vape, and his hair was soft when you ran your fingers through it. You could barely contain your butterflies, eyes squeezed closed.

“Come on babe, you know you like it.”

No matter how many times you and Kuroo hung out, it always felt so fresh. Maybe it was because he was exciting, or because he was a little bit wild, you didn’t know.

He leaned down closer to you, getting on his elbows, deepening the kiss. He pulled away and smirked at your breathlessness. With a slender, ring adorned hand, he reached beneath your top and cupped your tits over your bra. He gave them a sharp squeeze and started placing chaste kisses on your neck. He was considerate like that, didn’t leave hickeys because he knew they’d be hard to cover for you. He groaned as he jiggled the fat of your boobs in his hands,

“God, you have the nicest tits, babe.”

You had been dating for nearly 3 months now, if that was what it was. To be honest, you weren’t really sure what you were. You hang out all the time at his or your place, there was rarely a time when you didn’t have an ache between your legs, one way or another. He didn’t really take you on ‘dates’ but chatting to him was fun in itself, you didn’t need to go out to do that. He didn’t necessarily say romantic stuff either... but he didn’t not say romantic stuff either? He beat up your ex at a party one time! That had to mean something right? He exactly wouldn’t tell you how he felt but he showed you, kissing your cheek or tilting your chin up to look at him or kissing your neck or feeling you up. But that usually led to sex, so you couldn’t be certain. It wasn’t like you only screwed though, you watched your favourite movies together... although the last couple times he just started fingering you. You showed him your playlists? No no, he showed you his playlists, his sex playlists. There seemed to be a common theme here. But... there were times, afterwards, when he would pull in you so tight, tell you how good you were for him, how well you did, how pretty you looked. Any doubts you had were gone after a few hushed words on his tobacco reeking rickety old bed. You’d never really had a relationship like this before, but you assumed it was just because Kuroo was so chill. You were probably boyfriend and girlfriend, he just didn’t feel the need to announce it, he was laidback like that. So what if you guys had a lot of sex? Weren’t you a new couple? Wasn’t this just the honeymoon stage were you can’t get your hands off each other? You didn’t want to seem high maintenance and nag, so you let it be. He was sweet enough to you, right now everything was good.

Until it wasn’t.

A clatter sounded downstairs, the door slamming open against the hallway wall.

“Kuroo! Hey man, I brought some California!”, a voice called from bellow.

Kuroo broke away immediately, spit trailing from your neck to his pink lips.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit,” Kuroo mumbled, pushing off the bed and scrambling the pick up his discarded clothes and shove them back on.

You sat up, disgruntled, rearranging your bra strap from were he’d kneaded at it.

“What’s wrong? Who is that?”

He shot you a glance before continuing to yank back on his jeans.

“Uh, so change of plan, I can’t do tonight. I need you to go home. Discreetly.”

What?

“What? Tetsu, I’m already here,” you scoffed.

What was going on?

Why was he acting like this?

You had never seen him so... frantic.

“I know babe, and I’m really sorry about that, but my friends are here early than I said.”

“So? Can’t I meet your friends?”

He didn’t reply for a moment, just let out an exasperated breath, zipping up his fly.

“Well, yeah you can meet them, just not with me. I don’t want them knowing that I-“

He cut himself off, but you had heard enough to understand.

There was a beat of silence, only disturbed by Kuroo’s friends calling for him.

Your mouth hung open, and you scoffed in shock.

You shouldn’t be surprised really. It’s so obvious now that you think about it. So that’s what this was. That explains everything. He didn’t really like you, he was just using you. That’s why he didn’t take you anywhere, or why he didn’t show you he cared. It was because he didn’t. He wasn’t “afraid of getting close to people” or “emotionally distant”, he was just upfront about not giving two shits about you aside from your vagina. I guess he didn’t want his friends to know he was furiously screwing a fat girl any chance he got. He was embarrassed of you. You were something to be ashamed of. Your stomach jerked as you got to your feet. You were pissed, but that didn’t mean it didn’t really hurt. You had liked him. A lot.

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

You could see the panic in his eyes, it was quite funny actually. Of course you new what it meant, but it still made you feel a little better to watch his eyes widen like that, to hold a shred of power over him.

“I mean- well I didn’t- come on babe you know I didn’t mean it like that-“ he laughed nervously, not noticing the footsteps in the landing. You rolled your eyes. You may have been naive, but you certainly weren’t going to fall for his shit again. Whatever he spouted.

“Don’t give me that bullshit. Just say it, your embarrassed of me.”

“Y/N, please, don’t you think-“

Two men burst through the door, one with spiked grey hair and one with fluffy black hair.

“Kuroo! What the hell are you doing up here we’ve been-“ the grey haired one, stopped when his eyes went from a shirtless Kuroo to you.

Your eyes flickered to Kuroo, he looked mortified.

“Ah. I see. Well, Akaashi, we better give these two some time, we can just-“

“Oh no, I was just leaving,” you grabbed your jacket from on top of his chest of drawers and turned back to the two men, putting on a big smile, adrenaline and fury spurring you on.

“I’m Y/N, by the way.”

Your eyes shot to Kuroo, who looking like get was about to shit himself.

“You probably haven’t heard of me, me and Kuroo have actually been having sex for three months. He kept it a secret because he’s embarrassed of me. We should hang out soon though!”

“Y/N-!” Kuroo yelled, exasperation clear in his tone, but you were already descending the stairs.

He came into the hall, hands rubbing his temples.

“Y/N just come talk for a second, I can-“

But he was cut off by the door slamming.

You got in your car parked outside and sped away.

The whir of the engine and the monotony of the roads cleared your mind a bit, a mist of anger still remaining.

You can’t believe you let yourself be tricked. you were a fully grown woman, but you had been reeled in hook, line and sinker. Not only had you been reeled in, you have been reeled in by a man that still had tik tok LED lights in his room and a fucking monster can collection at the age of 24 fucking years old. The more you thought about him, the more you realised how much of an emo loser he was. Of course you were still hurting, but it was more of the angry hurt you feel when it turns out your crush is homophobic or something (been there done that, don’t ask). He was a waste of oxygen, you had decided by the time you made it back to your apartment. A waste of perfectly good space that could most definitely not get the kitty anymore. You got inside your house, pulled on some comfies and got on facetime with your friends.You told them all about what happened, and they passionately bitched about him with you, confirming your suspicion that they never liked him in the first place. They also told you to forget about his existence, he wasn’t worth a slither of your brain power, he was dirt compared to you. All in all, you felt marginally better, saying goodbye to your friends while they still giggled about how stupid Kuroo’s hair was.

This was just a speed bump, you thought as you tucked yourself into bed, you would get over this.

Fast.

“Who’s Bokuto been talking to all night?” Yamamoto leaned over to ask Lev, shouting over the blaring music.

It was a week after you had thrown Kuroo to the curb, and he was out with a couple of volleyball friends, some from Nekoma, but there was also Bokuto with them.

“I’m not sure. I think it’s Y/N something? She’s in class. She’s pretty chill.”

Kuroo’s ears perked up, and he turned around to face his friends up against the bar.

“Bokuto’s talking to who?” he said through gritted teeth.

“Y/N. She goes to my-“

“I know who Y/N is,” kuroo snapped, taking a swig of the beer in his hand and scanning the dance floor for either one of you. He found bokuto first, shoulder against the wall, holding a drink as he leant down to have you whisper something in his ear. That’s when Kuroo paid attention to you. You looked... you looked gorgeous. He felt jealousy creep up inside him. How many times had you been out looking like that since you broke things off? How many guys had you slept with since? How dare Bokuto chat you up when he knew you two had been a thing? Wasn’t he meant to be Kuroo’s friend? As Kuroo wound himself up, you and bokuto continued your extremely pleasant conversation.

“I just wanna say, sorry about Kuroo. He’s a real bonehead, but we’ve been friends since high school so I can’t ditch him.”

You snorted into your cocktail.

“What?”

“Bonehead?”

He frowned and straightened up indignantly.

“Yeah, and? What’s wrong with bonehead?”

“No no, nothing, it’s just very Legally Blonde.”

He beamed down at you.

“I love Legally Blonde!”

“You do? Me too!”

This big beefy man was very cute, you had been talking for nearly three hours now, but you never ran out of things to say. And, aside from the obligatory introduction compliments, he had not made any move to try and get you into a wendy’s bathroom as quick as possible, which you couldn’t say of yours and kuroo’s first meeting.

He had dreamy eyes, you noted as he smiled for the nth time that night.

“Whose your favourite-?”

“What the fuck are you doing man?”

You glanced scathingly over to the familiar face of your old fling.

“What?” Bokuto asked back, clearly done with his friends bad boy shtick.

“Why are you talking to her when... when you know?”

“What’s there to know? I’m talking to her because I want to, and she wants to.”

He looked over to you for approval.

“Right?”

You nodded, a little nervous. You hated Kuroo’s guts, but you knew how weirdly possessive he was, you didn’t wanna cause trouble for Bokuto.

“See? Now I don’t think she wants to see you, right?”

He looked at you again. You nodded again.

“Ok? You guys are over, now are we done?”

Kuroo huffed. His eyes flitted from Bokuto to you, remembering you were there most likely, and he scowled.

“No, we aren’t done, what are you trying to pull anyway? Trying to piss me off by talking to someone I know? Are you really that petty? Well, your little plan is working, so just-just stop, ok?”

You felt like screaming. You had just come out here to have a nice time, not listen to Kuroo’s narcissistic whining.

“Can you just fuck off? Was I not clear enough or something? You’re dead to me, Kuroo. I’m just trying to have a nice night.”

Kuroo’s mouth gaped open. He had never been spoken to like that, never. He clenched his fists at his sides and his glare intensified.

“You’re lucky I gave you the time of day, fat ugly slut.”

He grabbed Bokuto’s shoulder roughly, turning him to face him completely.

“Hey man, thanks for clearing up my sloppy seconds, really good of you. Good to know I’ve got great friends like you.”

Those were the last things out of Kuroo’s mouth before bokuto landed a punch on his cheek, knocking him to the ground.

“You’re a fucking asshole man,” Bokuto grunted.

He stepped over where Kuroo lay, and held out a hand for you to step over too. You took it quietly and trailed along behind him to the door, fingers still locked. His hands were warm, and big. Kuroo’s face must hurt right now. The thought made you smile. He held the door open for you before sighing, resting his back against the wall. You stood in front of him, twiddling with your fingers.

“I am so sorry about that,” You apologised, embarrassed and shaken by the scene Kuroo had made, “I shouldn’t have wound him up, and I shouldn’t have talked to you after I knew you guys were friends, I promise I didn’t mean to start anything.”

“Don’t be, if anything I’m sorry for not making him leave right away. And either way,” he gently reached for your hand again, and you let him take it,”I’m glad you talked to me. I’d like it if you talked to me even more.”

DISCLAIMER FOR KUROO STANS!!!! I DONT THINK HIS HAIR IS STUPID!!! it’s just when ur bestie is going thru a break up or anything entailing a male you shit talk everything about him to high hell, doesn’t matter if he’s the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen. also i have no ill will towards kuroo nor any of the characters i write shit bag fan fics about i just like to complain any way i hope you enjoyed! reblogs and replies always appreciated!!!

#haikyu x reader #haikyu x y/n #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu!!#hq x y/n #haikyu angst #haikyuu angst #hq angst #hq x reader #angst #kuroo x reader #kuroo smut #kuroo angst #kuroo tetsurou #bo x reader #haikyuu x chubby reader

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bitsandbobsofwriting · 3 years

Text

5 times Merlin does something that requires a considerable amount of strength;

+1 time the gang has time to actually bring it up.

Everyone is baffled, half distracted by Merlin’s surprising buffness and half amused by Arthur’s gay panic:

The clearing fills with the sounds of a brutal fight.

The Knights of Camelot, along with their King, had given up on trying to figure out how bandits always managed to find them in the woods. It seemed impossible for there to be so many mercenary groups that it was just coincidence for them to stumble upon each other so often, but equally, the knights moved quietly and always covered their tracks well, so... yeah, who knows.

The point is, they’re outnumbered three to one, and all of them were starting to regret not listening to Merlin’s earlier suggestion that they keep riding for another hour or so; their camp was destroyed and the fight was tiring them out.

Three to one weren’t bad odds, especially for knights with such a high level of skill, but it was exhausting and time consuming and they just wanted it to be over. Merlin was having similar thoughts as he stumbles through the middle of the crowd, trying to get out of the way. He was keeping an eye on them of course, but his friends were winning so his magical intervention wasn’t really needed; he was just annoyed that Arthur was almost certainly going to make him clear everything up afterwards.

His attention is suddenly caught when Percival’s voice rings out across the clearing:

“Merlin! Behind you!”

All of the knights’ gazes whip to the servant when they hear the giant’s yell, and they all abandon their own battles to step towards him despite knowing that they were too far away to be able to help in time. The servant takes in a sharp breath at Percival’s warning, becoming suddenly aware of a fast-moving presence behind him; he forms a fist and turns, swinging blindly with all his strength and following through even when his knuckles crunch with surprising accuracy against the temple of a bandit.

The man, not expecting the rapid attack, doesn’t have time to move out of the way, and his head jerks to the side, his entire body following as if an afterthought. He crumples to the floor gracelessly, unconscious before his head makes contact with the trampled undergrowth.

Merlin hisses at the pain bursting through his knuckles and up into his wrist, shaking his hand out as he steps over the bandit’s still form without even blinking, back to focusing on attempting to find a tree to sit behind and sulk, as if nothing had happened.

The knights only have a fraction of a second to freeze in shock before they’re dragged back to their own fights, forced to defend themselves lest they get skewered.

The battle only lasts a few more minutes; despite being outnumbered, the knights far outmatch the bandits in skill (and sufficient armour) and Merlin was correct in his assumption that they wouldn’t need any of his DIY luck, which is a good thing really, considering how much his hand is throbbing. He peeks his head around the tree when things go suspiciously quiet, getting up and making his way to the abandoned bag of medical supplies when he sees the knights victorious.

The servant runs a quick gaze over them, taking stock of any potential injuries as he makes his way through the clearing, injured hand clenched tightly and held to his chest. He may have knocked the bandit out, but that just meant that the punch was hard enough to do damage to his hand as well as the other guy’s head. When he finds nothing more than the odd bruise on the others, he grabs a roll of bandages for himself, quickly wrapping his hand almost painfully tight, before turning to Arthur with a scowl:

“I told you we were too close to the road, I told you we should’ve kept on going. But do you ever listen to me? No, because you’re-”

He’s cut off by The King stepping towards him and taking his bandaged hand, cradling it gently and looking to Merlin in concern:

“Merlin, are you alright?”

Merlin just rolls his eyes and huffs, snatching his hand back and retreating to check on the horses, thankfully tied and uninjured at the edge of the clearing:

“No, my hand fucking hurts, because, surprisingly enough, these idiots have skulls almost as thick as yours. We need to move camps, like I said earlier. Prat.”

Arthur frowns, looking down to Merlin’s unconscious bandit at his feet, and then glancing back to the other knights, who all just shrug with wide eyes. The King sighs, reluctantly nodding at Merlin’s assertion as he stares up at the darkening sky, deciding that Merlin must’ve... hit a pressure point or... something:

“Everyone pack up, I want to be moving on in three minutes.”

Merlin had foregone his jacket and rolled his sleeves up in the surprising Spring heatwave.

Which was a sight in itself.

But what really made the knights look twice (I mean... Arthur was just outright staring, but Leon had long since glared the others into not mentioning The King’s little... crush) was the way the supposedly wimpy servant had two sets of chainmail folded on one shoulder, his arm curled over them to keep them balanced, and a few odd bits of mismatched armour clutched in his other hand. He was making his way from the training field up to the castle, presumably to find an empty room to sit quietly and clean them.

Elyan waves at him across the field, the movement just about catching the servant’s gaze as he twists around, flashing a bright, sunny grin in place of waving back.

Arthur gulps, eyes drawn to the vein standing out from Merlin’s uncovered neck; apparently the heat had encouraged him to abandon his neckerchief as well. The King takes a deep breath, sending a scowl Merlin’s way to cover his... surprise, holding in a smirk when the servant just rolls his eyes and turns back to the castle.

His stride was strong, and though his arms were straining against the weight, he looked entirely unbothered, not even breathing deeply as he picks up his pace, jogging up the citadel steps.

Training had all but stopped at this point, the roundtable knights staring in confusion as Merlin carefully pulled the door open, making sure he wouldn’t drop anything, before nudging the door shut again with his hip. Gwaine was the first to break the silence, quirking one of his eyebrows up as he speaks in a slightly surprised tone:

“Didn’t know he had it in him. Wearing one set, when the weight is evenly distributed, is hard enough, let alone carrying two sets. And armour. Up steps. Huh.”

Arthur clears his throat, looking away with a slight blush as he asserts:

“Yes, well, knights carry the same weight in armour and weapons everyday, if not more. If you’re that impressed Sir Gwaine, perhaps you should work on your strength.”

Gwaine turns to him with a smirk, but Leon’s warning glare stops him from teasing, or saying anything else that could be considered treasonous. Instead, he rolls his eyes at the first knight before humming non-committedly and pointing his sword at The King:

“That, Princess, sounds like a challenge.”

Arthur, blush forgotten, looks up with raised eyebrows and a chuckle, noting with satisfaction the way the other knights spread out to form a circle around the two of them, swords lowered and expectant looks on their faces:

“Does it now? I suppose you’ll have to take me up on it then, won’t you?”

The knights were on some stupid (in Merlin’s opinion) quest.

The group was currently making their way through a complicated cave system. They had maps, thankfully, but they were old, and provided by a small village of locals who hadn’t spoken common very well.

They’d had to trade away half of their supplies in return for the maps, so Arthur was already in a foul mood, but a dotted line on the page across the path they were following was worrying him. The note written next to it was in some old, almost lost native language, so The King had just resigned himself to carrying on and hoping for the best.

Which is why he let out a series of echoing curse words when they turned a corner to find a ragged overhang, about eight feet above the path. The wall curved in on itself before jutting out again at the top, making it impossible to climb, even without armour and swords and packs.

Elyan is the first to break the tense silence after Arthur’s outburst, his tone half amused, half annoyed, as he mutters:

“That’ll be why the locals kept pointing at that ladder then.”

Arthur huffs, glaring at the knight with a rare venom, but Leon gestures to the map in his hand before he can retort:

“We can always go back, or is there another way around?”

Arthur huffs louder, letting out a short growl as he thrusts the maps to Leon’s chest and paces closer to the overhang:

“Feel free, if you can find an alternative route, please, enlighten me. The village is a day’s journey away, we don’t have time to go back.”

Leon covers his annoyance at Arthur’s harshness well, but Merlin scowls at The King openly before moving to stand at the junction between the wall of the corridor, and the overhang in front of them:

“Don’t be an arse, Arthur, it’s not Leon’s fault that none of us can understand Old... whatever it was. And it’s not that high, just-”

With that, Merlin braces his foot against the wall, bending his knees slightly before pushing off and jumping up, reaching out and grabbing the overhang, his feet dangling off the ground. The knights stare in shock, but before they can say anything, Merlin swings his feet forwards, and backwards, and forwards again. When they swing back for the second time, he uses the momentum to pull himself up, his arms locking out straight beneath him as he lifts his knees up, crawling over the edge and onto the floor above them.

Arthur blinks, looking from the floor, to the wall, and up to Merlin again, trying to figure out how the hell his manservant had enough strength in his arms and core to pull himself up; he hadn’t even taken his pack off.

Lancelot clears his throat, tilting his head and frowning as he slowly speaks:

“That was... impressive. But we’re wearing armour, Merlin, I don’t think we’ll be able to manage that with all the extra weight.”

No one mentions that they don’t think they could do it even without armour.

Merlin just rolls his eyes and sits on the edge, his feet dangling below him as he gestures vaguely:

“Well if you just get your hands on the ledge then I can pull you up. Take your packs off and throw them up first if you’re so worried, you can give each other a hand up, and Percival can go last because of how tall he is. Come on, it wasn’t that hard.”

Lancelot shrugs, taking his pack off and throwing it up with all his might. Merlin leans out, catching it with ease and chucking it behind him as he motions Percival to interlock his hands. The knight does so, allowing Lancelot to step on them and throw himself up, just about managing to catch the ledge and groaning at the strain in his arms. Merlin brings his feet back over the overhang, bracing his heels against the stone as he reaches down, gripping Lancelot’s wrists and hauling him up and over the edge.

Lance yelps as Merlin yanks him up, rolling onto his back and panting at the ceiling as he blinks in surprise. Merlin doesn’t pay him any attention, frowning down at the others and gesturing at them to hurry:

“Come on, I thought we were in a rush?”

With that, they all huddle below, taking turns to be thrown up and hauled over the edge. Merlin drags Elyan up on his own, Lance still recovering from his slight shock, but the more people gather at the top, the less work Merlin has to do. Which is good, because he may be strong, but he’s not sure he could manage Percival on his own. The giant has to take a running leap at the ledge, and it takes four of them to pull him up without dislocating any shoulders or throwing out any backs.

When they’re all successfully at the top, Merlin wordlessly picks his pack up, shrugging it onto his shoulders as he begins a quick pace along the corridor as if he hadn’t a care in the world; the knights break out of their stupors and jog to catch up, knowing that Merlin was right and they needed to hurry.

Arthur was glaring resolutely at the floor, trying to psych himself up to confront whatever arsehole had managed to get the drop on him and his six best knights. The others were arguing in whispers around him, trying to figure out some way to escape the dungeon unscathed, though The King kept silent, knowing that the only way out was if someone unlocked these infernal chains first.

They’d only been there for around an hour, so no one from Camelot would have realised they were missing yet; their only hope was that Merlin was making his way back to the city to get help. He’d been off gathering firewood, and he’d already been gone half a candle mark when they’d been ambushed; Arthur would never admit it, but he had faith that Merlin would be able to sort everything out.

The King harshly shushes the knights as he hears the guards begin to yell, but frowns in confusion when he hears “They’re going crazy up there!” and “What the fuck?!” before the unmistakable sound of armoured boots running up the stairs and away from the dungeons reaches them.

The knights all look to each other in confusion, straining against their chains to try and see through the small barred window at the top of the door. A shadow passes through the square of light on the floor, and they all shuffle back against the wall, staying silent. None of them manage to hold in their surprised yelps however, when the door suddenly bursts in, the wood around the lock splintering violently and spreading shards across the dungeon floor.

A strong arm extends out, stopping the now broken beyond repair door from swinging shut again, and the knights look up, taking in sharp gasps when they see Merlin stood there, scowling disapprovingly with a ring of keys in his other hand and one foot in front of the other, as if he had... as if he had kicked the door. Leon is the first to break the silence:

“Merlin?? What are you doing here?”

Merlin’s scowl deepens as he glances down the corridor before stepping into the dungeon, sorting through the keys to try and figure out which one would open which set of chains:

“Well I’m rescuing you lot, obviously. I leave camp for barely a candle-mark and you get yourselves kidnapped. Honestly, how hard is it to not find trouble, for once?”

Arthur is too busy staring at Merlin’s apparently muscled legs to say anything, even when Elyan clears his throat and kicks him, so Percival is the next to speak as Merlin unlocks his chains:

“Why not just... unlock the door?”

Merlin doesn’t look at the largest of the knights as he moves on to the others, unchaining them one by one as he responds, his scowl still firmly in place:

“The key was on a separate ring and I only had time to grab one, figured the door would be easier to break than the chains.”

Arthur finally blinks and shakes his head free of.... distracting, thoughts as Merlin finally turns to him, holding his hands out to be unchained as he clears his throat and says strongly, forcing the waiver from his voice:

“How did you distract the guards?”

Merlin finally smiles at that, standing and reaching into his pocket to pull out a lumpy looking bit of plant:

“Snuck in and pretended to be one of their slaves, laced all the jugs with mandrake root. They’re all going loopy with hallucinations upstairs, a few of them vomited and I think one guy might have shit himself. The guards went to see what was wrong, so we don’t have much time, come on.”

Arthur nods impressed, and was the last of the group to sneak from the dungeon, pausing briefly to run a hand over the splintered wood and warped metal of the kicked-in door, before shaking his head and following the others out of the not-quite-abandoned fort.

It had been almost a year since Merlin had last seen his mother, so when the servant requested two weeks off to visit home, wanting to help the village out with repairs before the winter set in, Arthur agreed immediately, on the condition that he and a couple of the knights could tag along.

Merlin reluctantly gave in, but only after insisting that he wouldn’t be Arthur’s servant, and whoever came would have to dig in and help out. To be honest, Arthur was mentally exhausted after months of work on repealing the magic ban, so Merlin was silently grateful that he was coming; The King needed a break, and Merlin knew how secretly fond the man was of Merlin’s mother, and her simple country life.

In the end, Leon and Mordred were the only ones who could come; Lancelot and Elyan were left in charge of patrols, Percival and Gwaine were left in charge of training, and Guinevere, Gaius, and Morgana were left to oversee the council and the general running of the Kingdom. Arthur wasn’t worried to be honest, they were only going to be gone for two weeks, and if disaster set in they were only a two day’s ride away at most.

It was chilly, the winter was setting in early so Merlin and Hunith were eager for work to start as soon as possible. There were numerous leaks and fences to fix, and one of the village’s barns needed clearing out so it could filled with grain over the snowy season.

That, and as much firewood needed to be collected as possible so they could stockpile. They normally barely had enough to last them through the winter; Arthur had nodded in approval when Merlin had meekly asked if they could take a cart of wood with them from Camelot, but they still had a lot to gather.

It was the afternoon of their first day, Leon had been sent to a neighbour’s to fix a roof, Merlin was doing something outside, and Mordred was just about to head over to one of the livestock pastures to strengthen a few of the fences. Hunith was preparing the evening’s meal and Arthur stood politely in the doorway as he spoke:

“Merlin said that firewood had to be gathered? I can get started on that if you can point me in the right direction.”

Hunith smiles over her shoulder briefly, and Arthur ignores the warm fuzziness in his stomach at the sight as she speaks:

“Oh don’t worry about that, we’ve only one axe in the village and Merlin is out by the barn chopping wood now. I know there’s a leak somewhere in the basement of the village hall, a few of the boys are already down there if you’re looking for something to do?”

Arthur raises his eyebrow at Hunith’s insistence that Merlin, his lanky manservant, was outside with an axe chopping wood, and he glances at Mordred over his shoulder, who just shrugs, nodding to Hunith’s turned back. The King responds quietly, trying to keep the amusement out of his voice:

“Hmm. I’ll go check in with Merlin and then head down to the hall, if he doesn’t need help.”

Hunith hums in agreement, but otherwise doesn’t reply, mumbling under her breath about herbs and measurements as she stirs something into the pot. Arthur smirks at Mordred and the two of them head out, neither mentioning how Mordred was following Arthur to find Merlin instead of getting to the fences.

They walk in silence, though they both freeze on the spot when they turn a corner to see Merlin, once again with his sleeves rolled up, hefting around a huge lump of wood, a ginormous axe resting on his shoulder. He gets the wood where he wants it, stepping back and wiping his forearm across his sweaty forehead before lifting the axe and swinging it down again. The stump splits easily beneath the sharpened metal, and Merlin wastes no time in repositioning the new pieces of wood, ready to be chopped again.

Arthur doesn’t even realise his mouth is hanging open until Mordred looks at him and smirks, biting his lip before giving in and snorting quietly:

“You’re the colour of our capes, Sire, and you might want to shut your mouth. Don’t want to catch flies, do you?”

Arthur’s jaw snaps shut with a clack, and he frowns as his teeth begin to ache. Mordred chuckles slightly and though Arthur is grateful that the young knight is finally comfortable enough to joke around with him, he desperately wishes he wasn’t at Gwaine’s level of comfort.

Instead of retorting, Arthur just clears his throat and turns around, striding towards the village hall:

“It appears he’s got things handled. Those fences won’t fix themselves, Sir Mordred.”

Mordred only just manages to hold in his giggle, looking up to see Merlin staring confusedly at him and Arthur’s rapidly retreating back. He waves briefly, sending a quick “I’ll tell you later.” over their mental link before turning himself and heading in the direction of the pastures.

He knows full well that he has no intention of telling Merlin about Arthur’s crush; watching them tiptoe around each other was the funniest thing ever, and he didn’t want to ruin the bet that Gwaine had going.

+1)

The fight was vicious, more so than any of the skirmishes the knights had dealt with in the last several months.

They were vastly outnumbered, and the addition of four powerful sorcerers to the enemy ranks meant that Merlin and Mordred were quickly running out of energy, having to focus on both the magical aspect of the fight, and trying to keep everyone else alive.

The metallic scent of blood was almost overwhelming, and the constant clang of metal on metal mixed with the whooshing echoes of sorcerous fire and vines was deafening. The fight went on a lot longer than Merlin had thought it would; the enemy was clearly more skilled than predicted, but the Camelot knights did prevail eventually, Percival ending the fight with the smooth slice of his blade across the last mercenary’s throat.

Merlin wastes no time in running his gaze over the knights, giving special attention to Arthur as he searches for any injuries that need seeing to immediately. The last of the sorcerers had managed to escape, so they needed to get out of there as soon as possible: there’s no way they’d survive a second attack if he came back with reinforcements.

Merlin was relieved to see nothing too serious; Lancelot had a gash on his temple that would need a thorough cleaning and a few stitches, and Gwaine was holding his wrist to his chest in a way that told Merlin it was likely broken, but everyone was on their feet and no one was crying. That’s a good start.

Merlin relaxes, but his shoulders quickly tense again as Mordred’s voice echoes weakly through his head:

“Emrys... I’m... I’m tired...”

Merlin whips around quickly, his eyes wide and panicked as his frantic gaze lands on the young knight. He’s leaning against a tree, his eyes hooded and focused on the floor. Merlin leaps towards him, catching him just before his head lands harshly on a boulder, and pulling the collapsed younger man into a more comfortable position as Arthur rushes over:

“What’s wrong with him? I don’t see any blood, was he hit with magic?”

Merlin waves him off, checking Mordred’s pulse and breathing before he relaxes again, sending a tired, but relieved smile up to The King:

“He’s fine, just exhausted. This is the first time he’s used this much magic in years, he’ll need a little while to recover his strength, but we need to get out of here in case they come back.”

Arthur lets out a relieved sigh and nods, leaning down to take one of Mordred’s arms and waving Gwaine over to pick his legs up, but before either of them get even close, Merlin stands up, dragging Mordred with him and settling the armoured knight across his shoulders. He looks to Arthur next to him, not seeming to notice The King’s shock as he quickly says:

“I know you’re The King and all, but would you mind carrying my bag?”

Arthur nods dumbly, picking up Merlin’s dropped medical bag without taking his gaze off the Warlock, who wanders around double checking that the other knights were ok and that all the bandits were dead as if he didn’t have about 240 pounds of man and armour dangling from his shoulders.

Leon catches Arthur’s eye, nodding pointedly towards the path they needed to take, trying to pull Arthur back into the present before the others notice him gawping. Arthur gulps, blushing as he nods his thanks and moves away from the battlefield, Merlin’s bag secured on his shoulders as he confidently speaks:

“Merlin’s right, we need to get as far away from here as we can. I saw a cave about two hours’ back North, we can make camp there before heading back to Camelot in the morning. Gather as much as you can carry, we’ve no hope of finding the horses before nightfall, hopefully they can make their own way home.”

The knights all nod, following Arthur’s lead as he steps carefully through the underbrush, trying not leave any obvious pointers to their direction. He keeps his gaze resolutely ahead as he hears Percival ask:

“You alright, Merlin? Sure you don’t want a hand?”

Despite keeping his gaze stubbornly forward, Arthur strains his ears to hear Merlin’s response, refusing to acknowledge the sudden weakness in his knees at what the Warlock replies with:

“Nah, it’s fine, he’s not that heavy.”

Leon subtly sidles up to walk next to The King, glancing behind him before leaning in close, talking quietly as they moved:

“Perhaps you should... let him know of you affections, Sire?”

Arthur’s blushing gaze quickly finds the older knight’s before he looks away again:

“I don’t know what you think you’re implying, Sir Leon.”

Leon just raises his eyebrow in an unusual display of amused defiance:

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of, Arthur. He’s been by your side for ten years, you’ve been through the unspeakable, both with each other and for each other. That, and he has a surprisingly... admirable physique.-”

Arthur’s blush deepens and he clears his throat, crossing his arms petulantly and staring resolutely ahead. Leon puts a hand on The young King’s shoulder as he continues:

“-You’re...-”

The knight sighs and bites his lip again, debating with himself over whether he should say it or not:

“-you’re head over heels for him, Sire, perhaps it’s time to do something about it? Gods know he feels the same, and the Gods also know that he’ll never make the first move. He’s still... nervous, about messing things up, I think. His-”

Leon glances over his shoulder again to make sure no one could hear him before dropping his voice to a whisper:

“-his magic being outed put him... on edge, even after all these months. He won’t do anything that he think could push you away or anger you.”

Arthur sighs and nods, before turning to him slowly with an embarrassed scowl on his face; he doesn’t shrug off Leon’s hand, which the knight takes as a good sign:

“Not a word to anyone, Leon, I swear to the Gods.”

Leon holds his hand up and uses his other to wave a cross over his heart:

“I swear, Sire. Though I feel the need to tell you that... at least three of the other servants, and I do believe Lady Bronwyn and Sir Galahad, also have... uh... their eyes on him, as it were.”

Arthur’s scowl gets impossibly deeper as he huffs, muttering to himself:

“They do, do they? Well, we’ll see about that.”

Leon just smirks again and rolls his eyes fondly before falling back to walk with Elyan.

They finally make it back to the cave, though it took them even longer without horses. Merlin had requested they stop around a candle mark in so he could remove some of the heavier bits of Mordred’s armour, passing them off to the other knights, but he had once again rejected any offers of help, saying that he was slowly siphoning his own magic into Mordred so he would wake sooner. Apparently they needed to be touching for that to happen, and though Merlin had been teaching them, none of them had enough knowledge on magic to know whether that was true or not, but they did know that Merlin was incredibly protective of the young Druid, so they let it be.

A fire was lit quickly and supplies were laid out. A map had been saved, thankfully, so they could figure out roughly where they were and how long it would take them to get back home as Merlin quickly treated Lance’s gash and Gwaine’s wrist.

Mordred begins to stir just as Percival serves up food, groaning slightly and rubbing at his eyes before struggling to sit himself up. Merlin had rushed to his side as soon as he felt the Druid begin to wake, and helps prop him up against the cave wall, handing him a water-skin as he stares at him with concern. Mordred takes a long drink, nodding his thanks and clearing his throat before speaking, his voice gravelly and slow:

“This... this is the cave we passed a few hours ago...”

His voice trails off, and Arthur answers the question in his tone:

“Hmm. We had no horses, so we were never going to make it back to the city, but we couldn’t stay where we were.”

Mordred nods, yawning widely and rubbing his eyes again as he asks:

“How did you get me this far without horses?”

Arthur clenches his jaw, blushing slightly as he looks away, but thankfully Gwaine butts in, answering with a grin on his face before anyone notices The King’s flush:

“Merlin here is stronger than he looks. Carried you the whole way, didn’t use magic or anything.”

Mordred turns his incredulous gaze to Merlin and he just shrugs absentmindedly:

“You don’t weigh that much, it was fairly easy.”

Elyan laughs and shakes his head, joining in on the conversation quickly:

“Are you kidding me? I mean... sure, I could’ve carried him for maybe an hour, if I was at full strength and it was easy terrain. You carried him for three, only took his armour off in the second hour, down what could barely be classified as a path, in a barely tamed forest, after a pretty hefty fight. That’s... impressive.”

Merlin raises an eyebrow, looking around the room in bafflement as he realises that everyone is staring at him with varying levels of impressed confusion:

“You guys... you guys know that I grew up in the country, right? I spent my childhood climbing trees and running away from predators, and my teenage years chopping wood, building things with barely any help, and fighting the odd bear. I then arrive in Camelot, only to immediately be given a job that involves carrying a shit ton of heavy stuff, including, but not limited to: armour, luggage, hunting equipment, and the occasional unconscious idiot.”

Arthur sits up straight and scowls slightly when Merlin gestures to him instead of Mordred:

“You have never had to carry me anywhere.”

Merlin raises an eyebrow, gaze sinking to the floor as he smirks and coughs out something that sounds suspiciously like “Sophia”.

Arthur’s blush deepens and he jabs an accusing finger in Merlin’s direction:

“That. Didn’t. Happen.”

Merlin bites his lip to stop himself from laughing, but his dimples still show through despite his best effort and he holds his hands up in surrender:

“Whatever you say, Sire.”

Arthur just clenches his jaw and sits back against the wall with eyes focused on his food and cheeks red, stubbornly ignoring the knights’ curious stares as everyone eats their food. Merlin fusses over Mordred for a few more minutes but is quickly waved away by the younger man; the Warlock huffs and rolls his eyes, but gives in to the fact that Mordred did not need, nor want, to be babied. He moves subtly around the cave to sit down next to Arthur, barely a foot of air between them despite the abundance of space elsewhere.

Arthur forces his blush down at Merlin’s proximity, refusing to think of anything but his food and the difficult journey home, desperately keeping his gaze on his meal instead of Merlin’s strong legs stretched out next to him.

The King doesn’t acknowledge him, but doesn’t move away either, which Merlin takes as a good sign as he settles in, wrapping himself in a blanket to protect his body from the impending cold.

The other knights have long since finished their meals, scarping the lot in a matter of seconds in an attempt to gain back a little energy after the hours of riding and fighting and walking; they quickly settle into the blankets and cloaks and bedrolls they had managed to carry, though Leon seems to deliberately move slower, waiting for Arthur to glance up at him so he can give a pointed look to Merlin, just finishing his food, before laying down and attempting to sleep.

Arthur blushes with wide eyes, but Leon turns around before he has time to glare at him, and The King huffs quietly, risking a glance to a shivering Merlin next to him. He quickly frowns, not moving his gaze away like he had intended to, instead whispering softly:

“Cold? Can’t you use magic to warm up?”

Merlin looks to him tiredly, leaning his head back against the wall as his eyelids droop slightly:

“Hmm. I gave most of my reserves to Mordred, he was worse off than I first thought so he needed a lot more magic than I realised to keep him alive long enough for his energy to build up again.-”

Arthur widens his eyes at the fact that he was so close to losing one of his knights, but then shakes his head, huffing as he glares at the Warlock disapprovingly, but Merlin closes his eyes and continues before he can get told off:

“-I’ll be fine by morning, I just need-”

He’s interrupted when his body is wracked by a particularly strong shiver:

“-I just need some sleep.”

Arthur rolls his eyes, shuffling into a more comfortable position before opening his arms, spreading his cloak wide as if they were a pair of majestic wings:

“Come here, you idiot. I can’t have you freezing to death because you refuse to look after yourself.”

In normal circumstance Merlin would’ve argued, but he really was cold, so when he cracks his eyes open to see Arthur ready and waiting, he doesn’t hesitate to crawl hurriedly over. Arthur ignores the flush rising on his cheeks as Merlin clambers over one of his legs, settling between them and shoving his head under the blonde’s chin; he wraps his cloak around the two of them and rubs his cheek into the Warlock’s soft hair.

He can feel Merlin grin against his collarbone, and it’s enough to distract him from the surprising, but not unwelcome, weight of Merlin’s muscled form against his chest:

“You know, Arthur, if you wanted to feel up my muscles so badly you just had to ask. You stare far too often to think you’re subtle.”

Arthur’s flush deepens and his body goes rigid as Merlin giggles. He clenches his jaw and lands a punch, far softer than he would normally go for, on the other man’s shoulder, but that just makes him giggle harder, and Arthur has to hush him in fear of waking the others. Merlin looks up at him through thick eyelashes, blinking tiredly with a satisfied smile on his face:

“Just let me know if you ever want carrying around, I’m more than happy to help.”

Arthur gulps, refusing to make eye contact as he stares resolutely at the opposite wall and not acknowledging the red hue of his cheeks:

“When we get back to Camelot, I’m hanging you for treason.”

Merlin snorts quietly, re-burying his face in Arthur’s chest and curling up tightly in his lap to stave off the cold:

“Whatever you say, Sire.”

Arthur gives in, smiling slightly and rolling his eyes as he tightens his hold on the other man. He lets his cheek fall back to rest on his soft hair as he closes his eyes, allowing his exhaustion to take over and descending into an easy sleep.

THE END!!

We stan Arthur gay panicking and all the knights (bar Leon of course, who handles it as tactically as he’s able) ruthlessly taking the piss :D

I hope y’all enjoyed reading this, I certainly enjoyed writing it! Thank you anon, I loved writing this!!!

Same as always, someone wants to write it up in full, go for it!! Drop me a message and credit/tag me :)

1K notes · View notes

inagetawaycarxo · 3 years

Text

Post Breakup Run-Ins [WWE]

Warnings: breakups, mentions of cheating, angst, crying, heartbreak, breakout them tissues, me listening to SOUR while writing this, more angst, roman’s part is FULL ANGST, broken hearts, Roman being an ass in Jey’s part and his own part, as well as Drews, asshole!roman, mentions of cheating, insecurities, heartache, alcohol, Seth’s part is short.

A/N: All two parts. This preference involves Drew Mcintyre, Jey Uso, Jimmy Uso, Roman Reigns & Seth Rollins. REQUESTS ARE OPEN!

Drew McIntyre:

Drew and you were on different brands so a breakup was inevitable. Drew and you broke up before survivor series. You were lucky you haven’t run into him yet, but that was all going to change when survivor series happened.

You thought you could avoid him but you were so wrong. You ended up crashing right into his chest.

You were talking to Jey, so your attention wasn’t in front of you. nor was his he was looking at you. you crashed right into something solid. Nearly falling, put a strong muscular arm caught you. the familiar smell invading your nostrils. It was him.

You looked up. Staring into his eyes. he stared into your eyes.

The moment was interrupted by Jey when he pulled you off of Drew. Drew looked annoyed.

“Come on y/n/n,” Jey spoke, before dragging you away quickly. Drew and you stared at each other till you disappeared.

.✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.☆.*｡･ﾟ✫*.

“You, okay?” Jey asked noticing that you were spaced out while he guided you to Roman’s private locker room.

“Do you think I should talk to him; I mean the way he stared at me…” You spoke. As Jey and you walked into Roman’s locker room.

Jey fought the urge to roll his eyes. He didn’t why you were under Drew’s spell. He broke your heart because you got drafted to smackdown while he stayed on raw. He couldn’t even bother to try a long-distance relationship with you. In Jey’s eyes Drew didn’t deserve you or a second chance.

“He broke up with you because both of you were on different brands,” Jey pointed out.

“I know but…” You sighed, but Jey cut you off.

“Y/n, if he cared about you, he wouldn’t have broken up with you, he would have tried,” Jey grumbled. Trying to prove a point to you. You must have forgotten all those nights you cried till you had no tears left to cry.

“What are you flapping your gums about?” Roman demanded. Rubbing his temple. Jimmy looked up from his phone, while Paul looked at Jey then at you, then back at Roman.

“Y/n ran into Drew and now she wants to get back with him, which I think is stupid,” Jey grumbled. Making you roll your eyes.

Roman let out a huff. Rolling his eyes. Obviously, you forget how much it broke you when he dumped you.

Roman composed himself. Looking at you. Making your heart jump to your throat.

“He broke your heart, y/n, he couldn’t be man enough to make it work, so he dumped you, broke your heart into pieces, you spent years trying to get over him, and now you want to get back together with him,” Roman hissed out.

“But…” You gasped out. Heart thumping wildly against your ribcage.

“I’m not done talking yet, you are better off without him, he isn’t a man,” Roman spoke in a cold tone. Like he was lecturing you.

Roman got up. Walking over to you. He gently rested his hand on your cheek. Eyes looking into yours.

“I don’t think your heart could take another heartbreak from him,” Roman sighed, stroking your cheek before leaving his locker room. Leaving you standing confused. Paul followed him, as well as Jey. Jimmy trailed behind but stopped beside you.

“Y/n, don’t listen to them, do what your heart tells you, if you want to be with him, then be with him,” Jimmy spoke. Making you smile.

“Thanks, Jimmy,” You beamed. Making him give you a playful wink before he left the room.

You quickly spun around. Opening the locker room door and walking out. Searching for Drew.

After about an hour of searching for him, you were about ready to give up. You couldn’t find him. Cursing to yourself. Maybe Roman and Jey were right.

Pouting to yourself you hopped onto a crate. Wishing the world would swallow you whole. You didn’t see Drew sit down next to you.

“Hey y/n, I’m surprised your guard dogs aren’t around you,” He joked. Making you look up. Surprise edged on your features.

“Drew,” You gasped out. Mentally cursing yourself.

The two of you looked into each other’s eyes for a minute or so of gazing into each other’s eyes, both of you broke the silence at the same time.

“I want to give us another chance,” Both of you spoke at the same time.

You smiled at his response. While he smiled back at you. Drew took a hold of your hand. Intertwining his fingers with yours. Your heartbeat beating a hundred miles. Butterflies swarming inside of your stomach.

“I shouldn’t have broken up with you, these past few years have been torture,” Drew spoke. As you starred at him.

“It’s okay, all that matters now is that we want the same thing, and that’s that we want to get back together, to give us another chance,” You spoke. As Drew closed the space between him and you.

His other hand grabbing the side of your face. Lowering his lips down to yours. His warm lips pressing against yours softly. Eyes fluttering closed as he kissed you…

Jey Uso;

You avoided Jey, and if you did see him you would run in the other direction.

Ever since he joined Roman, he had changed and not for the better either.

Roman told Jey to forget about you, that you weren’t supportive and if you dumped him because he joined family then you never really did love him. The truth was Roman was manipulating him and you couldn’t stand it anymore.

At first, Jey listened to his cousin giving you death glares, but that all faded. He missed you. He missed your touch, your smile, how your hair smelt, how you laugh, he missed deep conversations with you. He was aching for you.

So, he planned to corner you into a corner.

“Jey, what do you want, here to glare me to death,” You asked. Placing your hands on your hips.

Instead of answering you he just grabbed the side of your face and kissed you roughly. Placing your hands on his chest and pushing him away.

“Jey…” You gasped out. Eyebrows furrowing.

“I miss you so much, I need you, I want you back,” Jey begged you. Making your heart ache.

“We can’t, you’ve changed so much, ad Roman hates me,” You sighed. Looking at him with sad eyes.

“Then what if we date in secret?” Jey suggested. Making you think for a second.

You let out a sigh.

“Okay,” You whispered. Jey was close enough to hear. He smiled before kissing you again.

.✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.☆.*｡･ﾟ✫*.

Jey let out a content sigh, as you snuggled into his bare chest. Both of you coming down from your high, after having multiple orgasms.

You traced his tattoo. Looking at a bruise of his in concern. Jey knew you weren’t fond of Roman. Or his actions, in fact, you liked to call him a self-centred asshole. Telling Jey he is manipulating him.

“What’s going on in that pretty little mind, well dirty mind?” Jey asked, winking at you on the last line.

You moved your head up, looking at him, to see him staring at you. You playfully rolled your eyes. Lightly swatting him. Jey let out a fake ow.

“I just… I wish your cousin wasn’t so self-centred. He could come and save you when you get attacked by his opponents,” You sighed. Pouting at him.

“Don’t worry, babe,” He replied. His hand cupping the side of your face.

“But I do, you get hurt, and he doesn’t, it’s hard not to,” You sighed heavily. Jey had to distract you. He was still horny, so he thought why not go for another round.

“Let’s not talk about my cousin, not when we can go for another round,” He spoke, shifting his body so he was on top of you. Your heart rate accelerating a few beats.

“But…” You tried to speak but stopped you by putting his finger on your lips.

“Sh,” Jey shushed you making you pout. Jey positioned the head of his cock with your entrance.

Before you could even protest, he entered you. Making a gasp escape your mouth. Jey smirked. Satisfied he got that reaction. Your hands gripped his forearms.

“See so much better than talking about Roman.” Jey groaned out, as your walls clenched around him as he continued to slide into you till bottom out. Your legs wrapped around his waist.

What the two of you failed to notice was that Jimmy and Roman entered Jey’s hotel room, walking in on Jey and you naked about to have sex.

“Yeah, let’s not talk about me while you are fucking this whore, in fact, I thought the both of you broke up, please don’t tell me she manipulated you into sleeping with her,” Roman shouted. Voice booming.

You let out a slight scream. You could have sworn he locked the door. But the two of you were both driven by the lust for each other that the two of you didn’t lock it. However, your shock disappeared at what he said. What a hypocrite, he was the one that was manipulating people.

“Uce,” Jey hissed out. Covering him and you. Jimmy awkwardly adverted his eyes, while Roman just glared at you. You glared back at Roman.

“We wouldn’t have broken up if you didn’t manipulate him,” You hissed out. Giving him an icy glare. Which he shot right back at you.

“Babe,” Jey gasped out. Roman scoffed.

“You are such a brat,” Roman growled out.

“Least I don’t let my cousins do my dirty work or get injured because I couldn’t be bothered to save them,” You hissed out.

“You wouldn’t understand you aren’t a part of the bloodline,” Roman shot back.

Jimmy wished he had popcorn, Jey wished this would end, because he knew Roman would make him choose and he couldn’t do that.

“Uce,” Jey hissed out. Shooting Roman a look.

“You such a manipulating asshole,” You shouted. Voice rising two octaves.

“Y/n,” Jey huffed out. Looking between Roman and you.

“Least I’m not sleeping my way to the top,” Roman smirked. You narrowed your eyes at him.

“That’s enough,” Jey shouted, slightly upset at Roman’s words.

“And there it is,” You chuckled darkly.

“It’s true, you slept with Jey, got attention, now you will probably want to sleep with someone else,” Roman growled out. Glaring at you coldly.

“You really think that low of me,” You spat out.

“Yeah,” Roman smirked.

“You are such an asshole,” You yelled.

“Might be but you wouldn’t understand, even if Jey did make you understand you just wouldn’t get it,” Roman spat out. Crossing his arms. Did he just call you dumb? you thought to yourself. You wrapped the sheet around you, getting up. Jey quickly covered himself with the quilt cover.

“No, you are being a manipulating toxic asshole, I honestly think you need a reality check, and I hope Brock knocks some sense into you,” You shouted. Walking over to him. Roman’s glare intensified.

“Y/n,” Jey hissed out. While Jimmy looked amused. Damn you had balls to stand up to Roman and say that.

“Jey is either her or us?” Roman spoke, giving him an alternative. Making you narrow your eyes.

You quickly slapped him hard. Making Jey gasp and Jimmy try to control his laugh. The slap echoed through the hotel room. Roman grabbed his cheek a red mark formed on his cheek.

“I’ll do you one better, I’m done,” You hissed out. Casting a look at Jey, before you turned your head to look at Roman. Giving him an icy glare. You stormed off. Jey quickly got out of the bed, holding the quilt close, as he chased after you. Roman rolled his eyes.

“Y/n, wait,” Jey gasped out. Voice full of panic. He couldn’t lose you again.

“You are just going to walk out with a sheet wrapped around you,” Roman questioned smugly. Jey shot him a look, as you stopped in the doorway of the front door. The door was half-opened.

“Well, got to keep my slutty reputation up,” You spat out, slamming the door after you exited it.

Jey glared at Roman.

“What the hell was that?” Jey hissed out.

“She wouldn’t understand, and she is a distraction,” Roman responded. Shrugging his shoulders like he just did Jey a huge favour. Jey glared at his cousin….

Jimmy Uso:

Jimmy cheated on you. He begged you for forgiveness telling you it was a moment of weakness and he missed you.

But you weren’t having any of it so, you ended it.

Jimmy vowed to get you back. Yelling at you that he wouldn’t stop until you were his again.

You weren’t really surprised to see him at your doorstep.

The loud sound of persistent knocking came from your front door. Taking you away from the tub of ice cream and the show that was playing on the TV. You whipped your tears away. Before walking to the door. Unlocking it and taking the lock chain off, before opening the door.

You let out a groan of annoyance when you saw Jimmy at your doorstep. Eyes red from crying. He was the one that got himself in this mess. Holding a bouquet. Like they were going to fix the issue.

You were about to close the door, but he stopped you. a look of panic crossing his face.

“Please, y/n, I love you, I am so sorry I cheated on you, it was a moment of weakness, please, I love you,” He pleaded.

You closed your eyes. Fighting the tears back. You then reopened your eyes.

“If you ever loved me, you would have never cheated on me,” You snapped. Before slamming the door and locking it. Putting the chain lock across before walking back to the couch. Turning up the volume on the TV to drown out Jimmy’s pleas.

.✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.☆.*｡･ﾟ✫*.

You wished your self-doubt would go away, you wished you didn’t fall in love with Jimmy, but nothing is ever simple or easy in life.

The first few months of the breakup you wallowed. Crying your eyes out. Eating junk food to comfort you. To soothe your breaking heart. It didn’t help when Jimmy kept coming around with gifts trying to apologize. You didn’t want the gifts, you just wanted his love, but he couldn’t give that to you. Because if he even loved you, he wouldn’t have cheated.

He only went away when Sasha threatened him. Chewing his ear out. It pained you to see her get up him, but he did hurt you, and he did deserve her grilling. Sasha was your best friend in the company. Claiming you were the best hairdresser in WWE.

So, when you didn’t come to work, she started to worry about you. Till the point, she came over. Comforting you and telling you, you needed a distraction and to forget about him.

So, here you were at the salon you worked at. Trying to distract yourself. But failing miserably.

A bunch of teenage girls going to prom, made you think of Jimmy. Wishing it were that simple. You styled their hair. Doing your best not to think of Jimmy, asking about who they were going to prom with, what their gowns looked like, but it was hard not to think of Jimmy when his twin brother made his way into the salon. You rolled your eyes, as he walked over to you. The teenage girls swooned over him.

“Is he your boyfriend?” One asked.

“He is so cute,” One of the girls spoke.

“He is so hot,” Another one swooned.

“What do you want Jey?” You asked as you continued to curl the teenage girl's hair. She was the last one.

“Do you have a minute?” Jey asked. As he sat down on the bench to the side. The teenage girls stared at him in awe. While Jey shot them a wink. Some of them blushed while some of them giggled. You rolled your eyes. Shooting him a look.

“Are you two dating?” The teenage girl whose hair you were curling asked. Jey’s eyebrow flicked up.

“She wishes,” He teased. Giving you a playful look. He was trying to cheer you up. Seeing how miserable you looked. You rolled your eyes at his answer.

“He wishes,” You grumbled. As you curl the last strand of her hair.

“Nah, she dated my twin brother,” He spoke. Making the teenage girls gasp.

“There’s another one that looks like you,” One of the girls gushed out.

“Alright girls, all done, go to the counter and I will ring up the price,” You spoke. They all obliged, but not before giving Jey flirty looks.

“Can I have a word?” Jey asked. Making you let out a huff.

“I’m busy,” You huffed out, as you unplugged the curling iron.

“I’ll wait,” Jey responded. Crossing his arm as he sat on one of the chairs.

“Fine, just give me a second,” You sighed. Walking off to go charge the teenage girls. Their mums were there as well. Paying for the styling. You smiled warmly at them as they left the store. Telling the girls to have fun.

You let out a heavy sigh. Dreading to go back and talk to Jey. You knew he would want you to get back with Jimmy.

You took a deep breath before letting it out. Walking back to Jey.

“What do you want Jey?” You sighed out, as you reorganized your kit.

“He misses you, and you miss him, the two of you look like shit, and I before you argue and say he cheated on you, he regrets doing it, he needs you and you need him, can you please look past the fact he cheated on you and go back to him, at least give him another shot or be his friend,” Jey pleaded.

“I can’t Jey,” You sighed. Tears gathering in your eyes you quickly wiped them away.

“At least come back to WWE, everyone misses you,” Jey sighed. You thought about it for a second before looking up at him.

“Fine, but keep Jimmy away from me,” You sighed. Jey smiled brightly. Wrapping his arms around you and pulling you close into his chest. Giving you a bone-crushing hug. You let out a groan of pain. His plan worked, now all he had to do was get Jimmy and you back together…

Roman Reigns:

Breakups were hard. Especially how Roman and you ended. He ended up telling you he still has feelings for Galina and wanted to try again with her.

That left your heart breaking into two. You quickly rushed out of the room, while he called your name.

Ever since then you have been avoiding him. It didn’t help that the two of you worked in the same place, smackdown.

Doubts setting in your mind, where you a placeholder? Did he ever love you? Did he cheat on you?

Unfortunately for you, your luck ran out. You bumped into him in the hallways.

You felt like your throat was closing up. Heart thumping loudly in your eardrums.

“Hey, y/n, I haven’t seen you lately, how are you? Are you okay?” He asked. Looking at you with a general interest. His eyes looked sad. The nerve of him to ask you that, to even speak to you like you are his friend.

“Okay?” You shouted out. tears pricking the corners of your eyes.

“I can’t even look at you without bursting into tears. You broke my heart, you ruined me,” You snapped. Tears falling from your eyes.

Out of habit roman went to wipe them away but you slapped his hand away.

“Did you even love me? Or was it just fake, maybe you even used me just so you felt less lonely,” You snapped. Bianca noticed the Commotion. She quickly walked over to Roman and you. she wasn’t too impressed with how Roman broke your heart, after all, you ran to her crying your eyes out till you passed out. She was your best friend, so she felt a little protective over you.

“I hate you; I never want to talk or see you ever again, heck, I’m going to see if I can go to raw, and if I can’t then I quit,” You yelled. roman looked heartbroken, but you didn’t care.

“Come on y/n/n,” Bianca spoke softly, wrapping her arm around your shoulder and pulling you away from Roman, casting him a glare over her shoulder.

“It’s okay, I’ve got you,” She spoke in a soothing voice. While your body shook in anger.

.✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.☆.*｡･ﾟ✫*.

You no longer had emotional breakdowns over Roman. Lies. At least not in front of anyone. Though Bianca believed you weren’t over Roman. Especially since you got drunk to numb the pain or have one-night stands with other guys, to forget about him, and the fact he chooses her not you.

Roman on the other hand after his encounter with you, wasn’t doing so well. He made a mistake breaking up with you to be with Galina.

He saw how cold you were to him, but deep down he knew it was all a front. He knew you were breaking, and he was breaking too. But he knew he couldn’t break up with Galina as well.

She noticed Roman’s behaviour as well. Often finding him deep in thought. Or scrolling through his phone. Looking at selfies of you. Sometimes he would stalk your Instagram as well. At first, she felt jealous, but then she accepted that a part of Roman was going to love you.

“You still love her, don’t you?” Galina asked as she noticed Roman was looking at photos of you again. He quickly locked his phone a little too quickly for her liking.

“It doesn’t matter, I’m with you now, I picked you,” Roman spoke. Flashing her a soft smile. That didn’t quite reach his eyes.

She let out a sigh. Just because he flashed her a smile. She could tell it didn’t reach his eyes. He was miserable without you. Every time he was happy his mind would then wander off to you. His smile turning into a frown. She could tell he missed you.

“Talk to her,” She sighed.

“She hates me,” Roman sighed.

“She hates that you choose me over her, and truthfully I only think you choose me because of the kids, and maybe you do still love me, but I know you love y/n more,” Galina spoke. Giving him a sad smile. He needed to hear it.

Roman tried to speak but Galina cut him off again.

“Go win her back, give you her your all, and if it doesn’t work out, we can try again,” She spoke.

Roman smiled at her sadly. Getting up and walking over to her.

“I’m sorry, for doing this to you,” Roman sighed. Cupping the side of her face. She looked up at him. Slightly smiling. Leaning into him. Her hands grabbed his wrists.

“I know, but you still love her, go get her,” Galina spoke. Leaning up till her lips pressed against his. Kissing each other passionately one last time before he went to your apartment complex…

Nerves racked throughout Roman’s body. Palms clammy. Rehearsing in his mind what he was going to say to you. Roman took a deep shake breath in then exhaled. Clenching his hand into a fist. Bringing his fist up to the door and knocking.

He knocked three times. Calling your name. But got no response. His heart hammered against his rib cage.

“Look, y/n, I know you don’t want to see me, but I left her, I want us to get back together,” Roman spoke voice slight loud.

Roman heard the door behind him. Making him glance over his shoulder. Seeing your neighbour standing there in their pyjamas. Looking slightly annoyed.

“She’s not home,” They grumbled. Looking at Roman in irritation.

“That’s fine, I can wait for her,” Roman replied. Giving your neighbour a forced smile.

“You’ll be waiting for a while,” One of your neighbours spoke. Making Roman shrug his shoulder.

“Your problem,” Your neighbour grumbled. They were about to slam the door when Roman spoke again.

“Is she doing, okay?” Roman asked.

“By okay you mean, coming home drunk while her friend helps her, or doesn’t come home at all till the next day?” Your neighbour shot out. Shotting Roman a glare. Before shutting the door.

Guess he deserved that. But that got Roman worrying more about you. You weren’t doing okay, and it was all because of him….

“And after all, he put me through, I still fucking love him,” You drunkenly blurted out. Making Damian furrow his eyebrows as you downed the shot. An idea popped into his mind.

“How about I get him off your mind?” Damian suggested.

“How?” You asked as Damian got up off the barstool, tilting his head to the side hinting at the dance floor. Holding his hand out to you. You bite your lip, a small smile forming on your lips.

“Okay, handsome,” You slurred out, getting up and taking his hand. Damian pulled you towards the dance floor…

Seth Rollins;

You tried to get transferred to NXT but no, Vince wanted you on Smackdown live.

It was hard to avoid someone you loved, hard to look at him, hard to be happy for him since he was now a father. You weren’t too happy when you found out the woman, he cheated on you with Becky was pregnant, it broke your heart.

So, when you did bump into Seth you cast your gaze down to the ground and walked off muttering an apology and walking off.

Seth felt bad. All the guilt of cheating you eating up inside of him. he tried to apologize to you he really did, but you ignored him. he knew he broke your heart. He loved Becky but deep down in his heart you always held a special place.

.✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.☆.*｡･ﾟ✫*.

The alcohol only numbed your heartache to a certain extent. Though you always ended up crying yourself to sleep. You wished that you didn’t fall in love with him, then you wouldn’t be so broken. Wondering what you did wrong.

You tried your best to avoid Seth, especially Becky. You were hoping you would get released to at least ease your pain, but that never happened. You could only wait till your contract ended. Then you could be free of him. Maybe you would wrestler in AEW or Impact anywhere that was free of Seth and Becky.

All you wanted was to be enough for him, and you weren’t. You thought he loved you, but he didn’t. You were sick of feeling heartbroken…

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