#and could telepathically communicate with him…. i feel sick

[thekidsarentalright]

pete and patrick are very drift compatible and force dyad to me (if that concept existed in george lucas star wars i just know in my heart that obi-wan and anakin would be a force dyad (platonically ofc))

anon u are SOOO real and true for this god. they come as close to mind melding and telepathic communication as you can i swear. if they were in the star wars universe i think their connection would be too powerful theyd be so in tune w each other if they were jedis theyd be unstoppable

[heliads]

Hi!! So excited your requests are open! I was wondering if you write for young!charles xavier? Where him and fem!reader (who has similar telepathic powers as him, and often communicates with him this way, e.g. through some small quips that causes him to accidentally laugh out loud) have just returned from a really tiring mission back to the school, dealt with some of the kids, and just take some time to relax and just be with each other?

Thank you very much and have a lovely day!

'like me' - charles xavier

masterlist

Charles Xavier is stressed again.

You can feel it on your skin like rushing water, pouring around your brain until all you can think about is him, him– the way it always has been, the way it always will be. The divide between you and Charles has rapidly worn away until it is practically nothing at all. It’s you and him, him and you. Almost one person. Certainly one mind.

All your life, you’ve struggled with who you want to be. Discovering your mutation at the young age of ten years old only catapulted you into a life of confusion. At first, your telepathy was nothing more than a burden. The sound of everyone’s thoughts in your head was a crashing din of noise and exhaustion. You dragged yourself through every day, bothered to overstimulation by the never ending tumult of voices in your mind, but you could never sleep enough at night, kept awake by the dreams of those around you.

Only with time were you able to calm your mind down, to set up walls between yourself and others until you could finally experience some peace within the confines of your own head. On days when you’re sick or tired, the whispers find a way to sneak in through the cracks in your mental barriers, but for the most part, you’re okay. You block out the world, and even if it makes you lonelier, and even if shutting off your mutation makes you feel like you’ve cut off a limb, you’re less distracted. It was better.

So you told yourself, at least. You had assumed that shoving everything to the very periphery of your existence was the only way to live. It wasn’t as if there were any other mutants around to tell you otherwise, after all. Then, all of a sudden, there was. Appearing out of the blue, a stranger, dressed well, with a comforting air to him. A quiet smile directed towards you, a cup of tea cooling in his hands. Charles Xavier found you and told you were going to be alright. And you believed him. And he was telling the truth.

He often does. Charles is the rare sort of person that lives life as if it isn’t just a game. He abides by the rules, and whether he wins or loses, he doesn’t cheat. Not often, and never unless it’s absolutely necessary. Charles consistently looks for the good in people, and, amazingly enough, he has a knack for finding it. The idea of a mutant school was unfathomable– too risky, too many dangerous people in one place– but of course if one person could make it happen, it would be Charles. Charles was everything to you. Is everything to you. And always will be.

You were one of the first mutants Charles found. All of the others in the first round, he met with Erik, but Charles met you by himself. He said he wanted it to be personal. Really, Charles wanted to have this moment with you to himself. Apparently, he’d been able to sense that your mutation was just like his, and he was delighted by it, a child again. You could see it in the cherubic grin on his face, the bright spark in those shining blue eyes. After all this time alone, the two of you had finally found each other.

You can still remember every detail of that first meeting even all these years later. It was impossible to forget a single thing about Charles. You were practically starstruck to be in his presence. Here was this man who knew everything about the torment in your mind, who had found a way to live without suppressing himself. His control was incredible. He led the life you wanted for yourself, and best of all, he was willing to teach it to you.

Of course you would have gone with him to this idea of a school. You would have followed him anywhere if it meant being able to embrace your gift, and later, although you didn’t know it or perhaps weren’t willing to acknowledge it, being able to embrace him. When the two of you came back to the school, Erik initially didn’t believe that the two of you had just met. It was impossible, he said. The two of you spoke to each other like you’d known each other your entire lives, not just for the span of a few hours.

And maybe you had known him forever. It certainly felt that way. Charles understood you like no one else. The two of you developed a way of speaking that drove everyone else mad, half in your heads and half aloud. You’d go five minutes just staring intently at each other, then laugh and say a word here and there that revealed absolutely nothing about the conversation taking place. As your control over your mutation grew, your talks with Charles grew more and more nonverbal until they happened entirely in your heads save for odd exclamations here and there.

It tends to interfere with his teaching. Charles will be in the middle of a lesson when you’ll pop into his mind to report on a mission or tell him a funny joke. The students have come to brush it off when Professor Xavier starts laughing in the middle of an otherwise serious debate on ethics, or a long derivation of some physics formula. It’s you, again. Always is.

Charles pretends it drives him mental, but you both know otherwise. You can feel his delight in being able to speak to you in your mind, after all. It resonates through your head just as it does in his, warming your cheeks with his own rosy blush of affection. When the two of you fell in love, you could sense it instantly. His emotions were yours. Your love was his. All of the pieces of the two of you overlapped until there was no separation between yourselves, just one great person, one Charles-and-Y/N, Y/N-and-Charles, together until the end. You adore it.

And so it has been since the very start. The two of you as one, watching over the students as they enter your school. You teach them all you can, and say fond goodbyes as some pupils leave, ready to face the outside world, this time armed with the knowledge that they can take care of themselves and their mutations. Others stay for years, perhaps indefinitely, and you treasure them for as long as you can. Everyone leaves eventually. Everyone but you and Charles.

The school is not merely a school, of course. Your primary objective will always be to care for the young mutants of the world, but there is another facet to it, and that would happen to be your extracurricular activity of saving the planet. You’re a central part of the X-Men, and often find yourself shipping out on missions across the world with the others when you’re needed.

You’ve been on a particularly nasty mission for a few weeks now, but at long last, you’re on a plane headed home. You always miss Charles whenever you’re away; feeling his connection to you grow shakier the farther you’re apart before dropping away entirely once you’re out of range is nothing short of heartbreaking. Whenever you’re unable to communicate directly through your minds, you feel like a child again, utterly alone and with no idea that she could ever find someone to love and understand her the way Charles does.

You come back, though. You always come back. This time, it was a little less certain that you would, but after several harrowing weeks, you’re finally landing at the mansion, and you know everything is going to be okay again. You have a few minor injuries that need clearing in the medical wing, and there are reports that need to be written, but it is over, the fear is over.

Still, there is one person in the mansion who will not stop being afraid until you find him. You saw Charles briefly when you arrived, and eagerly fell into his embrace upon disembarking, but you were split up by the necessity of medical attention and wrapping up some lingering loose ends. Once the end of the day is upon you, though, and your bandages have been wrapped and wounds treated, you want nothing more than to find Charles again.

You can feel his stress pressing in on you from all sides. He gets like this a lot when missions are running, Jean has told you that, but this time it’s worse than usual. You were only able to send him quick, intermittent messages through the radio, and all delivered bad news. The odds that you would come back severely injured were high, and even if you managed to beat them, the possibility was still there.

You make your way out of the medical wing, walking through the halls of the mansion towards the living quarters. On the way, you’re stopped by several children who’ve waited up to see you, and after assuring them that you’re alright and will be back to training with them soon, you’re free to bid them goodnight and head upstairs.

Charles is waiting for you in your shared room. He’s been whispering to you all evening, making sure you’re okay and that you’re coming to find him soon, but once you open the door and come face to face with him once more, the whispers suddenly stop. All is quiet.

“I missed you,” he says aloud.

You smile. “I know. I missed you too.”

Charles’ face, a portrait of anxiety, cracks with relief at last and he holds out his arms to you. You release yourself towards him and let him embrace you. Charles’ breath is warm on your face, and his hand rubs calming circles on the small of your back. The comfort of finally being back with him is indescribable, closest to finally taking a breath after suffocating. The last few weeks have been tumultuous and torturous, but at long last, you know you’re going to be okay again. You’re with Charles. What could ever harm you?

requested by @fly-you-dam-fools, i hope you enjoy!

xmen tag list: @blondsauduun, @callsign-scully, @gods-fools-heroes, @deafsuperhero, @faerieroyal

all tags list: @wordsarelife

[pedropascallme]

Slow Down, Lie Down

Pairing: Shayne Topp x f!Reader

Summary: “‘I’m fucking exhausted, Shayne, it’s like I have to be so high-energy all the fucking time, and I’m burnt out and stressed for no fucking reason and I just—…you!’ You took a deep breath, leaning into his touch. ‘You…’ you looked at him through damp lashes, and he looked at you expectantly, waiting for you to finish your thought, not catching on to your statement. You cocked a brow, ‘I want you, Shayne.’”

Warnings: SMUT (18+ MINORS DNI), p in v sex, oral (f receiving), Shayne's gold chain is a warning in and of itself but it also comes into play here so take that as you will. If I missed anything please let me know!

AN: This is based off of a requested prompt from the lovely @slaydoggg who asked for a Shayne fic quite a while ago and I just got around to finishing it! Hope you all enjoy <3

The last day of any shoot week was the only time in your life that you’d ever felt genuine burnout.

When you were in school, you’d had a sort of leniency policy with yourself; long days never turned into long nights, you’d stuck to a schedule that allowed for grace periods, you’d been confident in your ability to ask for help.

But when it came to working in such a high energy environment, where you felt like you had to be on all the time, where quiet always seemed like a synonym for bad, it was hard to grant yourself any clemency from just going, going, going all day.

Not to say you didn’t like what you did—you wouldn’t trade your place at Smosh for the world. The office was a safe space above all else, and even though it was your place of employment, most days it felt more like a high school cafeteria, where you and your friends gathered and chatted and made each other go red in the face from laughter until milk shot out of someone’s nose, or whatever.

Still, shooting a TNTL at 7PM on a Friday after a week of filming felt like some kind of sick joke. Did you even have any ideas left? Improv was one thing, but improv with zero social battery left was a completely different story, one you were unsure you wanted to know the end to.

“You alright?” Shayne pulled you from your thoughts while you gathered in the studio to film.

“Yeah, yeah. Just…y’know, little tired.” You smiled, an offering he returned, “But I’m alright.”

He could tell that you were teetering in the space between apathetic and completely exhausted. It was hard to keep things from him. Goddamn psychology degree. Even before you had started dating, it seemed like Shayne had a sixth sense for the feelings of the people around him, especially when it came to you—and Damien, but they might as well have had their own telepathic communication link, as far as you were concerned.

“Ok,” he rubbed your shoulder in an attempt to soothe you despite your denial of any discomfort, “We’ll go home soon. Go be funny.”

~~~

“Good! Cut!” Shayne called from behind the camera after Courtney wrapped up the video. You had never felt more relief in your life; the promise of a bed and a weekend of relaxation awaiting you at home made you feel like a huge weight was in the process of being lifted off your shoulders. You felt like you were floating, completely dissociated from the world around you while your friends giggled as they recalled jokes they had made not even 20 minutes ago.

You gathered your things and met Shayne outside in the car. You stared through the windshield, still tuning everything out and unaware that he was addressing you.

“Hey,” he squeezed your thigh, “did you hear me?”

“Mm, sorry,” you shifted to look at him, realizing you were still unbuckled and quickly correcting your indiscretion.

“What do you want for dinner?” He was doing that thing where he studied your features as if you were a doll, seemingly unaware that you could see him scanning your face.

“I dunno,” you sighed, “let’s just order something when we get home.”

“Ok.” He fell quiet and peeled out of his parking spot. The ride was quiet for the first ten minutes before he spoke again. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

“I’m just ti—”

“‘Just tired,’ I know—but is there anything else?”

You shifted uncomfortably, running your hand over your seatbelt. “I dunno.” You knew you sounded repetitive, childish, but it was hard to communicate the exhaustion you were feeling to someone who did the same thing as you all week and never seemed to fall victim to the same sort of fatigue that you did. “Really tired.”

“Do you feel stressed?” He pushed.

“Are you trying to psychoanalyze me?” The words came out with a harsher edge than you had meant, and you saw him briefly furrow his brows in shock before regaining his composure.

“No, I’m just worried. If something’s wrong, you can tell me.” He parked in front of the house and turned to you, “I love you. I don’t want you to feel like you have to keep anything from me.”

You nodded, and the floodgates threatened to open as tears pricked your lash line. You sniffed. “I know,” another sniffle, “I love you, too.” You felt ridiculous, like a toddler overdo for a nap with the way you were acting just because you were really that tired. You just needed a little reassurance; to remember what it was like to feel rested and sated.

Shayne unbuckled his seatbelt and leaned over the center console to take your face in his hands. “What do you need, baby?” His thumb caught a tear that had slipped over your cheek. “Tell me. You’re…freaking me out, a little.” He chuckled, still retaining the sympathetic look that painted his face even when his eyes creased up with his small smile.

“I’m fucking exhausted, Shayne, it’s like I have to be so high-energy all the fucking time, and I’m burnt out and stressed for no fucking reason and I just—…you!” You took a deep breath, leaning into his touch. “You…” you looked at him through damp lashes, and he looked at you expectantly, waiting for you to finish your thought, not catching on to your statement. You cocked a brow, “I want you, Shayne.”

“Oh—oh. Oh!” He lit up, eyes wide and smiling like a kid in a candy store.

One thing you appreciated was that no matter how often you two were intimate, no matter how many times he saw you naked, he still managed to make it seem like a miraculous, once in a lifetime event when you fucked.

Talk about validation.

He all but jumped out of his seat, waltzing over to open the door on the passenger side of the car and waiting impatiently for you to unbuckle yourself and step onto the sidewalk. You’d never seen him open the door to the house so fast.

Before you had the opportunity to remove your jacket, your shoes, or put down your bag, you were pushed against the now-closed-and-locked door by Shayne, who immediately found your lips and pulled you into a deep kiss. It was gentle, reminiscent of the first time you two had kissed in that it was exploratory and slow so as to adapt to the needs of the other; but no matter how he did it, kissing Shayne always felt like perfection. You dropped your bag at your feet before bringing your arms to rest on his shoulders, lazily pulling at his flannel while he dragged his tongue over your bottom lip. He rested his forehead against yours when he pulled away.

“Feel better?” He let his nose bump against yours as he spoke.

“Yeah,” you breathed, “But I think I could use a little more…remedying…” You brought one hand to the collar of his shirt, dipping under it and trailing your finger back and forth.

“Thought so.” He pulled your hand away momentarily to pull you into him, hands on your waist, and you got the hint, jumping so he could lift you, wrapping your arms around his neck while your legs found purchase around his hips. You licked a stripe up his neck and felt him shiver underneath your tongue.

He hesitated to drop you on the bed. “I could just fuck you like this, y’know…” He made a show of how easy it was for him to pick you up, bobbing you up and down in his arms momentarily, miming how he’d fuck you.

“Fully clothed?” You pointed out, and he relented.

“Next time I’m getting you naked before I pick you up.”

“Buy me a drink first, man.” You laughed, peeling off your jacket and shirt and unbuttoning your jeans, pulling the fabric from your body; it felt freeing in so many ways, the removal of a week of work from your skin, your limbs able to breathe without the constricting material, the knowledge that Shayne was there to see you in all your nude glory—it was incredibly satisfactory.

His shirt was off when you looked back up, now in just your bra and panties. The chain around his neck glinted in the low light of the bedroom, and you felt a wave of lust crash over you; crawling towards him to the edge of the bed where he stood, you let your hands trace up his abdomen before landing on his shoulders. You peppered kisses over his chest, taking in the taste of his skin and inhaling his scent. His hands came up to grip your waist, squeezing gently to get your attention.

“Not about me right now,” he reminded you, somewhat stern in his cadence.

“You don’t want me to go down on you?” You purred, goading him.

“As much as I would love to see you wrap your lips around my cock right now…” he spoke while he pushed you back onto the mattress, pulling you towards him by your ankles, “I’d much rather be making you feel good.”

“Yeah?” You breathed, and he planted a kiss on your thigh.

“I’m a giver.” He kneeled in front of you, "Lie down." You leaned back, letting yourself melt into the comforter under his touch. He let his hands roam your body; thumbs brushing the curve of your breast over your bra before dragging his palms over your stomach, dipping under you slightly to squeeze your ass. You let out a huff of contentment at the feeling, and he did it again, before his fingers dropped under the waistband of your underwear and pulled them down your legs.

When you felt the first swipe of his tongue over your core, your drowsiness was replaced with a tingling pleasure that started in your clit and spread to the back of your neck; you feathered your fingers through his hair to coax him onward.

“Poor baby,” he muttered, dipping his head down into you and licking up from your slit, gathering your slick on his tongue, “you just needed some help relaxing, huh?”

“Uh-huh,” you moaned when he used his tongue to circle your clit, applying the perfect amount of pressure to help you unwind; you bent your knee, effectively trapping him face-first against your cunt.  

“It’s ok,” he flattened his tongue against you, keeping pressure on your clit until you started to squirm, “I’ll help you, baby. Don’t worry.” He licked through your folds before slipping his tongue inside of you, contorting the muscle to curl in and out as he saw fit. You tugged on his hair, a silent message telling him not to stop amidst your quiet moans and the subtle roll of your hips against his mouth.

He wrapped his lips around your clit, sucking gently until you arched your back, muscles relaxing when he let up on the pressure before he repeated the motion just to watch you squirm for him.

“Shayne…” You whimpered, one hand coming up to grope yourself through your bra, drunk off the feeling of his tongue.

“I know, baby, I know,” he whispered into you, alternating between sucking on your clit and lapping up the mixture of his spit that trickled down your entrance and the wet that dripped from you. He snaked his arms underneath you, resting them under your thighs with his hands gripping the plush skin, giving him a better angle to watch you come undone. He fucked you with his tongue again now, unable to ignore the way you bucked your hips against his mouth and the filthy moans that fell from your lips, before he licked a long stripe up your cunt and began sucking on your clit once more.

Your orgasm crashed over you, a calming tide that came in and out with no fanfare, but was still so beautifully curated to your needs. Shayne watched your breathing pick up and then slow down as you sank deeper into the bed. He rested his head against your thigh.

“Was that helpful?” You could feel him smiling against your skin.

“Maybe a little,” you rolled your eyes playfully, and he stood, leaning over you and kissing your cheek. “Got anything else that might help?”

He laughed quietly, briefly kissing your pulse point. “Anybody ever told you that you can be real needy?”

“Is that a bad thing?” You let your hands wander over his stomach and chest, dropping down further to play with the waistband of his jeans, and he groaned.

“Not in the slightest,” he clarified, before straightening himself up to remove his jeans. You closed your eyes, still enjoying the comfort of the bed, the undisturbed joy you got to experience with your boyfriend away from the chaos of work. When you opened your eyes, Shayne had one knee on the mattress, boxers still on—much to your chagrin—and beckoning you closer to him. You sat up, shuffling towards him on your knees, and he guided you forward so that he could unhook your bra and let it slide down your arms.

“Your turn,” you bent down to tug at his boxers, and he smirked at the difficulty you had trying to get them off of him at this angle. He gently shooed you off, taking them off on his own, before pulling you in for a long, slow kiss. It was somewhat needier now than the one you had shared at the door, but it still felt just right; his tongue broke through your lips and, after sucking gently on it for a few seconds, you pulled back, too desperate for him to fuck you now to focus on anything else.

He pushed you down onto your back gently, pulling your hips to the edge of the bed and propping your legs on his shoulders. Fisting his cock, you watched him spit down onto you, letting the saliva trail over your hole before he ran his cock through your folds, gathering your wet on himself. You squirmed, eager and impatient, and he raised an eyebrow, smiling down at you.

“Needy.” He reiterated, before pushing into you. You felt the initial stretch, the blissful pressure of his cock plunging into you, and in this position, with your legs raised above you, you could feel him nestled deep inside of you.

“Fuck,” you heard him mutter when he bottomed out, and one of his hands came down to your side, his thumb rubbing soothing circles over your hip bone. “God, maybe we both needed this…”

“Mhm,” you sighed dreamily up at him, eyes half-lidded and lips parted.

He pulled his hips back less than an inch, focused on staying close to you and drawing your pleasure out, before pushing back in—not rough, but certainly hard; the force pushed you up the mattress slightly. Caught off guard by his movement, combined with the feeling of his cock pressing into you even deeper than it had before, you couldn’t help the moan of his name that was knocked from your lungs.

He kept fucking you like that, slow and deep, hands sweeping over your skin like he wanted to remember every curve and bend of your body.

“You’re so beautiful,” Shayne managed to speak out between low moans, “So fucking beautiful.”

You placed a hand over his where it sat on your thigh, still holding your legs above your body and against his chest. “All for you.” You squeezed his hand gently, and he leaned his head back.

“God, yeah—that’s right,” his thrusts started to get rougher, just enough for his cock to push against your most sensitive spot and keep you hovering over the edge. “All for me.”

He leaned forward, pushing your legs back with his body; he had even more free reign like this, thrusting into you hard and fast, and you mewled underneath him, letting out whimpers of delight at the way he pushed you closer to your high.

Propping himself up with one arm, his other hand resting on your waist, he dropped his head down to your chest and licked messy stripes over your breasts, capturing your nipple in his mouth and sucking on it before alternating to the other. You arched your back, struggling to decide whether to focus on the way his cock felt brushing against your g-spot or the way his tongue felt teasing your nipples.

You quickly decided that now wasn’t the time for decision making, allowing yourself to succumb completely to the way his movements worked in tandem to bring you satisfaction.

When he came up to kiss you again, you grabbed at his chain, pulling him further into you, and he moaned into your lips, tongue immediately seeking refuge in your mouth and licking into you. You returned the favor, eager to taste him. He moved his hand, positioning his thumb over your clit and kneading it in time with his thrusts, and you gasped at the friction. Mouth open and unable to tear your gaze from him, you yanked on the chain around his neck again, and he growled, pushing into you with less regard now—nice and rough to get you over the finish line.

“Fuck me just like that—oh my god, Shayne!” Your legs trembled from the strain of the position and the orgasm that built in the pit of your stomach, and when he licked his lips, panting, and you felt him press harder against your clit, you were engulfed by the electricity that seemed to shoot from him straight into your bloodstream. You cried out his name, throwing your head back and letting the pleasure take over.

You heard him hum above you, the combination of a contented sigh and a desperate groan as he watched you cum on his cock; panting, you placed a hand gingerly on his cheek, the other still toying with his chain, pulling his face towards yours, ghosting your lips over his.

“Cum in me,” you whispered into his mouth before kissing him, and you felt his lips part against yours with a moan, stuttering your name and spilling into you.

His head rested against yours, both of you breathing hard and trying to regain your composure. He kissed your ear, then your cheek, your nose, your other cheek, your other ear, before finally placing a sweet kiss against your lips, soft and full of love.

He took a deep breath before pulling out of you, and you whimpered at the sudden emptiness.

“I know. Come here, baby” he helped you straighten your stiff legs before scooping you up and placing you properly along the bed; you curled up instantly, satisfied and relaxed. Shayne crawled into bed behind you, a box of tissues in his hands that he pulled from to wipe the excess mess from between your thighs. He was gentle, quiet, kissing your back while he pulled your legs apart to clean you off.

“Thank you,” you mumbled, turning over to face him, “I feel…much more relaxed.”

“Glad I could help.” He kissed your forehead, tossing the box of tissues across the room and cringing when they landed awkwardly in the middle of the floor instead of on the dresser he had been aiming for. “Never want you to think that you can’t tell me how you’re feeling.”

“I know,” you trailed your fingers over his chain, looking up to meet his gaze, “I’m sorry I was grumpy.”

“You don’t have to apologize for that, baby. I’m sorry you felt so exhausted.”

“I’m still exhausted,” you smiled, “just in a much more enjoyable way.” You watched him break into a smile, pulling you against his chest and kissing the crown of your head.

“You can sleep in tomorrow.” He stroked your hair.

“Only if you sleep in with me.” You nuzzled into him, already feeling sleep tug your eyes closed.

“Can’t pass up an opportunity like that.”

[lateraniansweets]

just some thoughts about forehead touching™ with vash because the brainworms are getting to me.

the first time he does it is when you're down with a really bad fever, leaving you bed ridden for a couple of days.

vash bless his soul, is more than happy to help but...

he kinda doesn't know what to do???? like he knows humans can easily get sick from changes in weather to plain exhaustion but he himself has never been sick because he's a Plant

so, yeah, he kinda panics and racks his brain on what to do. like should he get a doctor?? is the fever bad enough that you need to be hospitalised??

then BOOM. the cartoon lightbulb in his head goes off and his train of thought kinda went like this:

you = sick

when Plants are sick, do the forehead thing™ then they feel better so by that logic

you = sick = do the forehead thing™ on you.

so he kinda jsut does that???

he presses his forehead against yours, trying to pour his energy to you and you're just like 👁️👁️ because how do you react to your Plant boyfriend trying to do Plant things to you??

i mean it does work. you're fever down as what could be best described as a wave of soothing vibes wash over you and the Plant lines on vash's eyes glow faintly.

but like vash gets all embarassed when he realizes what he was doing and apologizes to you repeatedly for invading your personal space like that + doing the forehead thing™ on you.

he'll get sad internally if you say you dont like it

he Will Not Stop and you have to repeatedly assure and explain to him that you're fine with it.

but like yeeah once he knows you're okay with it vash starts doing to more often

oh you're feeling unwell? forehead thing™

you're sad? forehead thing™

he just wants to show his love for you? forehead thing™

while he can't communicate with you telepathically yet when he does it, the action in itself is more than enough to get the message through.

JUST LOOK AT HIM I AM SO DOWN BAD I HAVE AN EXAM IN A COUPLE OF MINUTES AND ALL I CAN THINK ABOUT IS H I M AAAA

anyways i have so many thoughts about this and Plant forms affection in general I need to talk to people about this

pls pls feed the dumpster fire that my brain is rn

[crescentfool]

What are your ryomina headcanons? I've loved these two since I played P3 FES, and I'm so excited to get back into the fandom^^

hi!! thank you so much for the ask, welcome back to the p3 fandom, it's always a delight to see new and old ryomina fans alike! 🥺💛💙

as for headcanons, here's a "few" i that i tend to come back to a lot! my interpretations of them are influenced from both the source material and other's fanworks, so i've linked to them as i saw fit! hcs in no particular order under the cut because oops this got long (900 word bullet point list, mentions of reload content up to 1/1)

minato's hair is dyed blue (hair originally brown, you can see it in his roots!) and he has a beauty mark on under his left eye. i like mirror imagery and there's definitely a few arts i've rb'd that portray them this way :) (e.g. this one by feliichu and this one by marasschino)

as far as i'm concerned the bathhouse scene from the manga where ryoji's hair down = similar shape to minato? that is canon to me. this art from xierru is a fun depiction of hair down ryoji :D

ryoji is homeless. everyone say thank you foxmulder_whereartthou for this awesome fic it's why i have the headcanon! but like seriously. we have no idea where ryoji lives and i could believe this.

minato dying at the end of the game is sad to an outsider's POV BUT!!! ryomina gets to be together in death for the rest of their lives (this illustration from mafuwara is a gorgeous representation of them as nyx avatar + the seal)!

speaking of the seal, they are like telepathically communicating to me in the great seal together. (mymp3 had a comic wip with this. give it a looksie :D)

ryoji likes cuddling with minato because he's warm :) (something something orpheus has fire affinity, minato is warm by extension and ryoji is cold because he's death)

ryoji's camera roll is filled with pictures of minato! ryoji... loves life, to me. and i feel that photography and journaling are perfect ways of expressing gratitude and capturing the moments in life that are most important to you :3

my other favorite activity for these two is stargazing- i feel like it's something they could appreciate either in life or death (looking at the stars from the great seal...)! they do a bit of this in the fic eurydice's vow by crescentmoontea (P5R spoilers, takes place in third sem it's a very fun fic concept).

between ryoji and minato i feel like ryoji was the one who fell in love first- and it doesn't really click in place for minato that he loves ryoji until december hits (appriser reveal + ryoji transforming into thanatos). its about the realization that ryoji was with him for his whole life and that he gets him like no one else does.

ryoji is like a sad and wet puppy who is so scared minato won't like him back. he is so scared of being rejected by minato to me like. this boy straight up deflates after he does his "i know i said i wanted us to be friends, but... i actually want to be something more." / "what about you?" on 12/1 ???

AND SPEAKING of wet puppy ryoji. ryoji is like. every animal in the world to me. he's a bird. he's a cat. etc. and also ryoji knows every language in the world ever and uses it to express his love for minato. see this fic from superheroics to see what i mean.

both of them are lactose intolerant. "this isn't lactose, it's milk!" i definitely think ryoji would make himself sick eating ice cream and milk he doesn't know what lactose is. (i made a silly poll about this once and the tags were very entertaining.)

i see minato as transmasc or nonbinary depending on the day (schrodinger's headcanons babey they're simultaneously true and not true at the same time!!). either way he's not cis to me and ryoji is like. His Gender. anyway go read this fic by nail_gun for t4t ryomina :D !

ryomina are WEIRD GUYS TO ME!!! they are so strange and they understand each other better than anyone else because of the circumstances of their relationship!!! if you asked them to do the "i wonder what i taste like" meme i think they'd start biting each other (affectionate) tbh but that's just me.

after ryoji gives minato the music box in 12/31 on reload, minato listens to the music box every night in january. this boy has insomnia and also chronic illness to me (things that housing death does to you). but i think he finds comfort in the melody and memories he made with ryoji.

in general, i think it's fun to imagine minato taking ryoji to places and show him things he's interested in! i feel that ryoji takes a lot of interest in minato's life, this isn't really a hc because in reload, minato DOES give ryoji a tour of the school (11/9) and possibly port island (11/12). but ITS CUTE OK! (tangentially related fanwork: this series of doodles from vinnigami: 1, 2, and 3)

not a hc but minato's kindness is like the backbone of their relationship and i think we would not have the ryomina we know and love today if minato wasn't such a kind soul. oh minato.... we can learn so much from you... like ryoji did!

anyway! that's all the hcs that i could think of, thank you for the ask! i had a lot of fun answering this, these two mean a lot to me 💛💙

i hope you don't mind the links to the fanart and fanfic as well, the fanwork people have made for ryomina have really made an imprint on me! if you want to see more of them, i definitely recommend looking through my tag for them because oh. i got a lot of them reblogged alright 😂 (<- SOOO NORMAL)

[weird-an]

tw Karen Wheeler trying to flirt with Billy

El wants to go to a pool for fun and no way in hell Jim is going to trust Mike Wheeler not to let her drown. She maybe have been in water tanks for telepathic shit, but he doesn't know if she can swim good enough. If it's okay, she can come here with Mike next time. Under supervision, of course.

It's a sunny day. The community pool is crowded, a bunch of kids are screaming and Jim eats his second ice cream to calm himself - it's terrible. Urban horror at its best.

El's eyes are big, she's happy and she's trying to convince Jim to swim a few laps, but Jim hates water. It's just too wet.

So he's walking over to the lifeguard to have a better overview, when he stops dead on his tracks. Karen Wheeler is standing next to the lifeguard, a manicured hand on his arm like she's trying to feel him up. She's smiling, all pink lipstick and blue eyeshadow. Like she dressed up to go to this ratty community pool full of annoying children.

Billy Hargrove stares at her, a frozen grin on his face. Jim can see his jaw working. He looks like a deer caught in the headlight. Karen would probably notice, if she wasn't to busy staring at his abs. He's so fucking young. He's the same age as her daughter.

Jim's temples throb. This isn't right. He clears his throat.

Karen turns around, but her fingers are still digging into Billy's skin.

"Oh, hi!" She's all saccharine and sweet. Jim feels sick. She doesn't notice how wrong this is.

"I need to borrow Billy for a moment," Jim says.

Karen tilts her head. "In a minute, okay?"

"Now," Jim says. He wishes he'd wear his badge and uniform right now and not his swim shorts with a bunch of hibiscus flowers on them. "You can talk to the kid another time."

That seems to sink in a little. Karen lets go of Billy. "I'll be out of your hair."

Billy stares at Jim. He's rubbing his arms where she touched him.

"What do you want?" he asks, blue eyes squinted a little.

"For her to stop touching you," Jim answers. It's the truth, why bother making something up?

"Oh," Billy says. He's still eyeing Jim warily, like he waits for Jim to grab him, too.

"Does she come here often?" Jim asks.

A tiny nod. Almost shy, like he doesn't know if he should really tell.

"Good thing my daughter wants to come here more often." Jim searches the pool for El. She's waving at him. Like she just waited for him to look over.

"Usually Saturdays," Billy mumbles.

"Maybe you could give El swimming lessons in return."

They watch El swim a little. She doesn't have any technique, but at least she's not drowning.

"She isn't doing too bad," Billy says. "You could easily-"

"I hate pools," Jim interrupts him. "Just as much as people like Wheeler."

He didn't ever except for Mike Wheeler to come only the second place for Wheeler he hates most.

"Alright, Chief." Billy clears his throat. "Thanks."

"No problem," Jim grumbles. They stand there in awkward silence for a second. A kid running along the poolside saves them.

Billy blows his whistle. "No running!"

Jim decides to join El at the pool. He'll keep an eye on Karen a while longer.

[aftgficrec]

hi I'm so excited I caught you guys open :D

I was wondering if you guys could find some fics where Neil brings up his past in casual conversation or his past gets brought up because of something he said or did

Also I've read a lot of the older soulmate fics where they can feel each other's pain or communicate telepathically and stuff like that but was wondering if there are any new ones :)

Ty u so much <333

There is so much material here I decided to split it into 2 parts, one with fics about Neil’s past, and one devoted to soulmate aus.  Enjoy! - S

references to Neil’s past:

people Neil met on the run here

Foxes learn about Neil's past here

The Foxes react to Neil’s life here

The Foxes react to Neil’s scars here

The Foxes react to Mary’s abuse here

videos of neil on the run here

Neil’s secrets unravel here

Neil says ‘it’s fine I’ve had worse’ here

Neil shows off his knife skills here

‘The Bet’ here 

‘here I am, there you go again’ here

‘I'm not broken (I'm made for a mosaic)’ and ‘More Afterthoughts, Chapter 39’ here

‘arrivals/departures’ here 

‘TFC minifics...’ Ch 23 here

‘heavy hands, heavy hearts’ here

‘"I've endured far worse"’ here

‘it whistles through the ghosts still left behind’ here

you may also like:

Neil with languages/accents here

Neil with languages/accents 2 here

‘No straighter path than to struggle’ here

Neil also shows off his knife and language skills in ‘I Hope You Lie To Me’ here (ch. 9)

Neil’s past:

Andrew, I'm fine by AceSirenSinger [Rated T, 2081 words, complete, 2023]

Andrew passes through the door into the ensuite bathroom, and he freezes an instant before he understands why. The bathroom tile is smudged red, just so. Someone bled here, and then wiped it, too quickly. Andrew wants to call for Neil, but he is suddenly unsure if he is alone in his apartment.

tw: nightmares, tw: implied/referenced rape/noncon, tw: knives, tw: violence

Killer Bunny by godless_writer [Rated T, 6661 words, complete, 2023]

Neil started his second year in college thinking his past was behind him. His father was dead, Riko was dead, he was no longer running – nothing left to hide from. At least that is what he thought before six FBI agents barged into his team’s practice one day. Or The team finds out Neil had to kill some of his father’s men while on the run.

tw: implied/referenced murder, tw: implied/referenced abuse, tw: panic attacks

Bound for Error by confusedtoadd [Rated M, 22759 words, incomplete, last updated July 2023]

“You claim you’ve left your truth bare, yet you still lie, interesting don’t you think Nathaniel?” Neil was paralyzed, stuck between begging for her to stop and strangling her. They were a mix of his parents' wishes, his father's anger was bubbling over, his mother's survival instincts charged his legs with vigor. “Perhaps I should have stepped in sooner. No matter, they will know the truth soon, you did promise no more running, Nathaniel.” OR The foxes react to Neils life, pre-canon included.

tw: implied/referenced suicide attempt, tw: implied/referenced suicidal thoughts, tw: implied/referenced self harm,  tw: violence, tw: blood & gore, tw: torture, tw: abuse, tw: psychological abuse, tw: panic attacks

Secrets by The_stars_ship_us [Rated T, 1265  words, complete, 2023]

Matt sees Neil's scars for the first time and Neil wakes up, still sleepy, and feels comfortable and safe enough to speak in his true accent

tw: implied/referenced abuse, tw: scars

The Best That You Can Hope For (is to die in your sleep) by Major_816 [Not Rated, 10840 words, complete, 2022]

The first time O’Malley saw the kid was in a low-level underground gambling ring, walls crawling with asbestos and next to every bastard inside armed with something sharp if not something packed with warped metal and gunpowder.  He couldn’t have been more than thirteen, but he surveyed the crowd of the room with years more experience than he should have. There were scars cutting across exposed bits of skin, sick looking in the light of the place and stretching hotel-bible-page-thin over crooked bones.  He was a wispy thing. Nothing more than a scrap of a boy stitched together. O’Malley was half-convinced a strong wind might blow him over, but the kid turned, those quick and clever eyes burning across the room and O’Malley could recognize that sort of fight instinct.  He saw him again half a year later in Northern Florida.

tw: implied/referenced child abuse, tw: scars, tw: panic attacks, tw: dissociation

Broken bones by All_for_the_andreil [Rated T, 1126 words, complete, 2021]

Neil gets injured during a game and freaks out. Andrew finds out what exactly happened to Neil in Baltimore.

tw: implied/referenced torture

I guess I can drop the accent now by poly_pr1nce [Rated M (we say T), 495 words, complete, 2020, locked]

Neil reveals the final thing he's been hiding about himself after the Foxes win against the Ravens and Riko's death

...'ah yes, my shirt will cover this'  by @jingerhead [tumblr, 2021]

This prompt is great, I've read some angsty fics about Neil getting hurt and they're great BUT I love the idea of Neil getting stabbed and he's just like.....'ah yes, my shirt will cover this' and everyone notices right away. I think something super angst or something more lighthearted would be equally great haha!

tw: injuries

Art

what’s life on the run like? art by @meaucrow

Thinking about all he went through trying to survive art by @microolli

[beigepillow]

It's so interesting to read the comments about the chapter. Everyone is happy, but I also saw that many were angry at Doumeki for saying that it was just sex. But how could he answer otherwise? Yes, Yashiro really has changed. But he also denies feelings for now and reduces everything to physical pleasure. Unfortunately Doumeki is not a telepath. He gives in to Yashiro and plays by his rules. .. Are you sick of my tenderness and love? I will be cool and not emotional. Is it just physical attraction? Okay, so it's just sex between us. Doumeki is afraid that Yashiro will run away from him. Last time he opened his soul and received cruelty. I think until Yashiro also opens up to him, Doumeki will play his role so that Yashiro doesn’t leave him. But I want to say that Yashiro is absolutely amazing in this chapter. Finally he speaks. He says what he likes and what he doesn’t. Shows emotions. This is a huge step forward and makes your heart tremble. I'm so proud of him

I think some just saw it as a missed opportunity to confess his feelings since it seems like Yashiro is waiting for a love confession and indirectly gave one of his own. However, you’re right Doumeki is not a telepath. He doesn’t know what Yashiro wants or if he is ready for a relationship with Doumeki. Doumeki wants monogamy and Yashiro has yet to express the same desire. He is following Yashiro’s lead and hoping that maybe he can have this part of him even if it isn’t exactly what he wants. Recently I have made posts emphasizing that Yashiro needs to have his own personal journey of understanding and communicating his emotions and being able to express what he wants out of life without a guarantee Doumeki will be with him in the end because love is about being vulnerable. This chapter proves that Yashiro is more than capable of it. I also think it is important to remember that Doumeki is in a complicated situation right now and needs to keep that in mind as well. He hasn’t exactly told Yashiro what has been expected of him and we don’t know yet if he will. Doumeki is still hurt about what happened 4 years ago and is just trying to consider what Yashiro has said he wants. I don’t think he did anything in this chapter that is worth criticizing in my opinion.

[gallifreyinstituteforlearning]

What could i do to help him if my gallifreyan has a hearts attack?

Disclaimer: This strategy is not suitable for humans. Follow the directions as stated by your human medical people: The Resuscitation Council UK - How to do CPR link

🚨 Immediate Actions for a Gallifreyan Hearts Attack

Secure the Scene: First, ensure the environment around you and your Gallifreyan friend is safe. Look out Daleks or any other environmental hazards that could pose additional threats.

Initial Response: Engage with your Gallifreyan friend by asking, 'How are you feeling?' and gently shake their shoulder while inquiring, 'Can you hear me?' This might help gauge their level of consciousness.

Seeking Bystander Assistance: When dealing with a Gallifreyan hearts issue, getting bystander help is key, but remember, a human ambulance won't cut it for their unique biology. If able, ask around for anyone with knowledge of alien medical care to assist, and direct others to help keep the area clear or communicate with specialised medical teams using any advanced tech you have. It’s all about finding the right support while ensuring everyone understands/remains unaware of the patient as a non-human.

Recognising Cardiac Arrest: Check for the two hearts' rhythm and normal breathing patterns. The absence of these signs indicates cardiac arrest, but if there's a pulse and they're breathing, proceed with a systematic ABCDE assessment.

Here are a normal set of life signs for reference.

Respiration Rate (breaths per minute) - 5-10

Supplemental Oxygen (cannula/mask etc. in use?) - No

Temperature (orally) - 15.1-19°C / 59.1-66.3°F

Systolic BP (top figure from blood pressure) - 151-240

Heart rate (individual) - 45-90

Level of consciousness - Alert

CPR Adaptation for Gallifreyans: If you suspect a cardiac arrest:

Perform 5 compressions over the left heart (from the patient's PoV), maintaining a depth of 5-6cm.

Switch and perform 5 compressions over the right heart (from the patient's PoV) with the same depth.

Administer 2 rescue breaths.

Keep this going until they have signs of consciousness or until medical help arrives. If you tire, find someone to swap out with to maintain good quality CPR.

Precordial Thump Strategy: If one heart seems to have stopped and you don't have a defibrillator, deliver two precordial thumps. One should be on the chest over the affected heart, and the other on the back, aligning with the heart. This method is slightly unconventional but might kickstart the heart again in urgent situations.

When Help Arrives: When Gallifreyan or similarly equipped medical responders arrive, provide them with a quick but comprehensive overview of the situation. Your actions and the information you've gathered can be crucial for the next steps in the patient's care.

🤖 Additional Tips

Stay Calm: Your calmness can help keep the Gallifreyan calm.

Telepathic Assistance: If you're skilled in telepathy, offering a soothing mental presence can help stabilise them.

Emergency Kit: Always keep a Gallifreyan medical kit nearby.

🚑 Post-Emergency Care

Once the immediate threat is over, following up with a specialised Gallifreyan medic is vital. Your Gallifreyan might need specific treatments to fully recover and prevent future incidents.

Remember, while these steps provide a general guide, each situation is unique. Always prioritise professional medical advice when available.

Related:

Gallifreyan Assessment Scoring System (GASS): Guide for assessing vital signs.

ABCDE Assessment: Guide for quickly assessing and treating a sick Gallifreyan.

Sepsis Emergency Response (SER): Guide for identifying and treating sepsis.

Hope that helped! 😃

More content ... →📫Got a question? | 📚Complete list of Q+A and factoids →😆Jokes |🩻Biology |🗨️Language |🕰️Throwbacks |🤓Facts →🫀Gallifreyan Anatomy and Physiology Guide (pending) →⚕️Gallifreyan Emergency Medicine Guides →📝Source list (WIP) →📜Masterpost If you're finding your happy place in this part of the internet, feel free to buy a coffee to help keep our exhausted human conscious. She works full-time in medicine and is so very tired 😴

[i-cant-sing]

I feel like platonic yandere theodere would be even more of an ass when reader gets sick

HE IS! And so condescending too! Always signing to you "If you'd just listened to me and stayed in doors, this wouldn't have happened." Or narrowing his eyes at you when you refuse to take the sour, sleepy medicine, telepathically communicating to knock it off and take the pill.

Rolls his eyes when you leave your bed, standing in front of you with his arms crossed against his chest, nodding his head at you to go back to bed or fight him. And by "fight" he means try to get past him and he'll still pick you up and throw you back in bed, perhaps with a couple more heavy blankets.

Super super concerned when you're puking your guts out over the toilet seat, he's holding your hair back (and your head), afraid that you'll doze off and dunk your head into the toilet bowl. May gave you a light shake by the hair to get your eyes to focus on him so that he could both examine your face for ill health signs and also make you see what he's signing to you.

He might even get his enemy (low key bestie) Dr Eros to check you and prescribe you some medicine. But he's sure to swat Eros's hands away for any unnecessary touches, narrowing his eyes at you when you complain to Eros about Theodore being a persisting pain.

Helps you to the bath, sitting outside just in case you need help or you slip and bleed to death. Or if you need a towel. After you come out, he sits you between his legs to comb your hair, does your skincare routine for you (even if u didn't have one, you do now) and tucks you in the bed that has now fresh clean sheets in it.

If you sneeze on him, get snot on him, or even a little bit of vomit, he gives you a death stare and if he finds out u did it on purpose, he scoops your snot/puke up and flings it back on you.

Teases you to no end as he feeds you soup and takes care of you, but the moment he sees those tears of frustration, he drops the ass hat and tries to comfort you by spending money on whatever you have in your online shopping basket (yes, he totally has access to your Internet history, even if u use incognito mode)

When you finally do sleep, he'd gently bring your head into his lap and pet your hair, kissing your cheek (and grimacing at how warm you are) before boring holes into you because obviously, he has to make sure you don't stop breathing.

I also think that Theodore's reaction would vary greatly on what type of disease reader is suffering. If its fever or food poisoning, then he's a major ass and will piss you off to no end. But if its something more serious like idk, migraines or arthritis or epilepsy, then he's not a jerk. No, no. He'd be so concerned and understating of your pain and will do anything you want to relieve any discomfort.

[robin-the-enby]

Hiya! I would like to request Abe Sapien x my oc it would be the continuation of the first fic and it would include her going on her first mission and how the others react to Abe and my oc getting closer. Hope you have a good day/night ^^

Someone like me p.2

Pairing: Abe Sapien x fem!reader

Warnings: mentions of killing and hypothetical bloodthirst :)

A/N: To all the lovely readers besides riya: I do not write for other people's OCs! This is an exception, since I've already written part one in the past :) With that out of the way, I am happy to come back to this, Abe was the first fictional character I ever published a fanfiction about (Confusing feelings on my masterlist, feel free to check it out ;D), so I have a special place in my heart for this man <3). Also, I would like to point out that you have no idea how much research went into this fanfic XD (but some things are completely made up, so don't come at me when some things can't be fact-checked).

Time passed...as it does. Life at the BPRD was nothing like your calm, quiet and mostly uneventful life in the outside world. The facility was buzzing with life most hours of the day, every day of the week. Luckilly, you weren't completely shut off from the world, like some of your more unfortunate colleagues. You could go outside, thanks to your human appearance. It did take some paperwork and time before your trip got approved, but it was certainly better than being stuck inside. You also had access to the internet and your old social circle, because, well, it would be very strange if you suddenly disappeared.

But you quit your old job and told everyone you're moving somewhere far away, which wasn't a complete lie...And now only few people kept in contact with you. And when they did, you either texted or called. But it was still nice.

And it's not like you minded much. You had a whole new set of friends and a world of possibilities open in front of you. Training with Liz and having some girl time every now and then, because both you and her really needed it from time to time, movie nights with Hellboy- or Red, usually everyone called him red, which Liz almost always joined, and sometimes Abe as well.

Speaking of Abe...

After the accidental confession in the BPRD's exercise pool, the two of you were like two peas in a pod. With your passion for learning about all the different creatures that secretely roam this Earth and your aquatic abilities, you were a perfect partner not only during research, but also on missions that required agents to go underwater. So it's no surprise that the two of you spent a lot of time together while working.

But you never had to worry about being sick of each other. Your personalities mended so beautifully together that you rarely needed to be apart. When you weren't working, you both usually did your own thing, just...together. Of course, you loved to talk and learn about one another, but it was nice to be able to just be...close to someone, with no words needed. Not to mention Abe was a very adaptable person, sometimes you worried he has people pleasing tendencies, but when you needed time alone, he always understood and never pushed past your boundaries. That being said, it's only natural for partner's to argue sometimes. And while that was true and there were instances where you disagreed on one thing or another, you both were smart enough to give each other some time to cool down, when things really escalated, and then talk it through. With Abe's telepathic abbilities, communicating feelings that were hard to put into words was also fairly easy.

Finally, you felt content with the way your life was going. And honestly? Everybody was on board. They were all supportive in their own special ways. Liz was glad that Abe found someone who understood him and wasn't put off by his appearance or his abbilities. Knowing him basically her whole life, it warmed her heart that Abe was happy. Red was proud of Abe. Seeing him always as the more introverted and nerdy friend, he thought Abe would be alone for a much longer time, if not forever. Not that he wouldn't wish a happy romance for the guy, hell, he sure knew about Abe's desire to love and be loved, but the in their line of work, meeting new people is hard and doesn't happen often, and meeting people who stay long enough for romance, or any deeper relationship to bloom is even harder. And he knew that. That was why Red was seriously proud of Abe for shooting his shot. Although when his blue friend revealed to him how exactly the confession went down, Red laughed so hard he couldn't quite catch his breath for a while.

The other agents and staff of the BPRD were happy as well. With the special agents happilly taken, the bureau was just a tad calmer. There was still drama, but nothing serious, like when Hellboy used to escape just to see Liz in the mental hospital, who didn't even want to talk to him at that time. Even Manning seemed calmer, to everyone's relief.

As much as you enjoyed your time at the BPRD, it wasn't always easy. You could still remember the first mission you went on. From your first day at the bureau, you worked hard on yourself to be a good agent. You wanted to go out there and face whatever the world had in store for you. And a few months of intense training and working mostly as a researcher, the day finally came.

Manning had called you, Abe, Liz and Hellboy into the library, for Abe's comfort. And because it was spaceous enough that it easily provided privacy. There, you could go over the details of the mission ahead of you, construct a plan and immediately grab some books to help you learn what you were dealing with at once.

So here you were, sitting around a larger table, listening to Manning tell you about a mysterious creature who, according to secret sources, are responsible for the unsolved disappearings and drownings of multiple people at Wilson lake, Kansas. Based on the evidence and statements from witnesses, every person disappeared at night while going swimming. First outside of swimming zones, but then also right from the designated swimming beaches. First, the victims would swim out into the deep water, where they couldn't feel or see under they're feet. Once they got comfortable, they got pulled under, not to be seen until the next morning. The time the victims spent in water was always different. For some it was ten minutes, for others thirty minutes and for a few even an hour or so.

From what Manning implied, there were some sort of agents scouting the area even before this mission has been ordered, since some of the sources saw a snake like creature, covered in scales, with the head of a cat, or somthng similar. It seems to be able to breathe underwater and above water, and it seems to not have any hind legs.

"First, we need to at least have an idea hat we're dealing with." said Manning with a huff and everyone present turned to look at you and Abe. You tried with all your might, but couldn't remember any creature that would meet the description in a closer way than vaguely. With a slight shake of your head you pushed away from the table and disappeared into the rows of bookshelves in search of amphibian cryptids, monsters, demons and the like. After a few moments, Abe joined you in your search, not knowing sure what it could be either. Luckilly, the two of you knew the library like the back of your hand, so it didn't take long before you came back with what you were searching for.

Each holding a few books, you gave everyone a book or two and you started flipping through them. It couldn't be merfolk, because only a few species live alone and not in groups...it could be a mutant, but most things can be mutants when you think about it...You wondered as you flipped through the pages, sometimes stopping to read the description, most times skipping entire chapters. This went on for roughly half an hour, before Liz suddenly spoke up "And what if it's a Tatzelwurm?"

You all looked towards your raven-haired friend. "The what now?" Red grumbled. "Tatzelwurm, a creature commonly found in Alpine lakes. It's venomous and agressive towards humans. How could it end up in Kansas?" Abe tilted his head to the side. "Look, I'm not saying I'm right, I was just trying to point out that it matches the description almost perfectly." Liz shrugged with a huff and you nodded along her words.

"Well, it seems to be the best we've got so far." Manning said, clasping his hands together. "Are there any weaknesses mentioned in that book? Or something we might use?" you asked. Liz picked up the book and flipped through a few pages, before quickly scanning over the text of one. After a moment, she sighed "No, not really. It just warns to be careful, because a single bite can kill an adult human and supposedly it's able to let out poisonous fumes and has acidic blood." "Well, that's helpful." Hellboy grumbles, not mad at Liz, more annoyed that this case was going to be a tough one.

"Abe, is there a possibility it could be something else?" Manning asked. The amphibian thought for a few seconds about the answer "Well, that depends...Are there any creatures with a similar way of living? Yes, many. Are there any that would match the description given to us that closely? No. Or at least, I can't think of any." he shrugged at last. Manning clapped his hands together and stood up "Alright. We'll assume it's a Tatzelwurm for now. I will have a plan created tonight. Pack your things. Tomorrow at seven o'clock sharp" he looked at Hellboy with that instruction "we'll meet here and you will be given the details of the mission. Then, you'll be leaving for Kansas." he turned on his heel and walked out of the library, dismissing you all in the process.

The next morning, you all met in the library exactly as Manning said. Even Red came on time, although you suspected Liz was to thank for that. Along with Manning came two other agents, the ones who made an elaborate plan for you through the night. It was actually pretty simple, you and Abe would search the water and after you manage to find the creature- there is no "if" as you were told by Manning, you will try to lure it out of the water, where Hellboy and Liz will be waiting to dispose of the creature properly. You and Abe will also be equipped with weapons meant for close combat, which you are strictly advised against, but for safety measures, you'll still have them.

After that, you loaded the super secret garbage truck look-alike and then it was a roughly seven hour journey, spent mostly in silence, as everyone prepared themselves for the mission. You pondered taking a nap, but even if you wanted to sleep, you couldn't. It would be a lie to say you weren't nervous. But you had trained for so long to get to this point. You had done so much in life just to be able to do this. You couldn't, and wouldn't, give up now. But the thought of facing a monster that could kill you with a single bite was terrifying, especially when not that long ago, you were a simple civilian.

As if he could sense your nervousness, Abe softly reached for your hand, encompassing it in his own. As soon as your hands made contact, you knew he could read you like an open book, so you just relaxed and let him feel what you were feeling, hear what you were thinking. In return, Abe reassured you that you had nothing to worry about, that he would do his best not only to accomplish the mission, but to protect you as well. His soothing energy calmed you down significantly and you actually managed to catch some shut eye for the rest of the journey.

After arriving to Wilson lake, you and the rest of the agents set up camp near the lake, away from prying eyes. Since the lake was enormous, and the Tatzelwurm could be literally anywhere, a few technicians came along with underwater drones, which would be placed into the water in several places at the lake, scouting for the creature. After that, you and your friends will be transported as quickly as possible to the place the creature was captured at, where the plan you already were familiar with would be set into motion.

And so you waited. And while waiting, you got you gear set up, Hellboy had his guns loaded and checked, Liz had her gun loaded and checked, as well as her knife and her fire proof jumpsuit. Abe was finally able to get rid of his breathing apparatus and you simply had to put on a tight swimming top, since your legs would turn into a fin.

Abe and you immediately got in the water to warm up for the chase. After such long time of training, you had a better grip on your transformation, so now you were able to get through it more quickly and with less discomfort. Of course, you made sure not to venture too deep into the water, in case the Tatzelwurm was nearby.

After several hours, when the sun was already setting, one of the cameras in a more rocky area of the lake captured something big. A big creature. The technician controlling the drone made sure not to disturb it, and it seemed to have worked, but sadly, the drone caught just a slight glimpse of it, so nobody could be sure if it was realy the creature, or perhaps just a big catfish. But the drones nearby were informed to be on high alert, while the rest were instructed to slowly move towards the one who captured it first. That way, it was nearly impossible to miss it.

While this was all happening, your friends got notified of this progress and you promptly loaded a jeep and were driven to the place where the Tatzelwurm was supposed to be right now. On the way there, your driver got confirmation that another drone got a clear visual of the creature and it's heading towards onbe of the beaches slowly. Putting their foot down on the gas, the driver quickly told you about everything and you and Abe mentally prepared yourself. You needed to be fast, because there were lives in immediate danger.

After finding a good clearing, both you and your blue partner wasted no time and jumped in the water, taking off in the direction you were instructed, while Hellboy and Liz were driven to the location you were supposed to lure the creature to. The bottom of the lake was half muddy, half rocky. It almost seemed like a ghost town, with no creature in immediate sight. They were all probably hidden, but that didn't help the already spooky feeling that was creepin into your heart while looking around for the Tatzelwurm.

You kept close to Abe as you made your way through the dark water. He kept updating you from time to time from where he could sense the creature and if you're getting close. So far, everything was going well. After you made it about a kilometer into the water, where it was more than 8 meters deep, you finally spotted a sillhouette moving almost hypnotically in the water. You both swam faster and each on different side, hoping to be able to get in front of the creature and redirect it away from the beach.

As you got closer, you could clearly see that Manning's informators were right, as well as Liz. It was a Tatzelwurm. It was around two meters long, its scales a rich black colour that reflected the sunrays in small shimmers. Its head was that of a feline, except it had no fur. Its eyes were wide, yellow and wild, hungry for flesh of anything that would cross its path. Its front legs were pretty short, compared to the rest of its body, but they were adorned with long, sharp claws. After a few minutes, you managed get ahead of the creature and you started closing in on it. When you were roughly at the edge of its visual range, you quickly crossed in front of it and darted behind immediately, trying to throw it off guard. At which you succeeded, because the Tatzelwurm stopped dead in its tracks and looked around confusedly, before turning around to finally see what dared cross it.

You simply floated there, not moving for a few seconds, before you flicked your tail swiftly, as if to beckon it, challenge it. The creature's pupils slanted, turning into small slits as it opened its maw, displaying rows of sharp teeth, ready to tear meat from bone. Abe swam slightly closer towards it, seemingly not afraid of the killer cryptid in front of him, although you doubt that if you could see into his thoughts right now, you would see a myriad of emotions going through that brilliant mind of his.

This seemed to rile up he creature even more as it hunched its back threateningly and swam closer to you. You darted a few meters in one direction away from it, but as it turned to look at you, Abe moved exactly in the opposite direction. This was the final straw. The creature, frustrated and angry, let out what would've been a roar on the surface, but here it was just a stream of bubbles coming out of its maw, although that did nothing to make it less imposing. You and Abe started swimming away in the direction where Liz and Red should already be by now, the Tatzelwurm following quickly behind you.

It was a if death itself was chasing after you, the sloshing of water completely ignored by you as the only thing that you could hear was your blood pumping through your ears. The amount of adrenaline coursing through you made your skin prickle and you had to concentrate on keeping the motions of your tail as quick, but also as smooth as possible. From time to time you managed to spare a glance at Abe, who seemed just slightly faster than you, and could afford to look out for you and behind you, to see if the creature was sill following you.

And quite surprisingly, it was. Instead of getting tired of not being able to catch you, your speed, that was putting you just slightly ahead of it, was frustrating it to no end. If you saw any signs of exhaustion or that the Tatzelwurm wasn't interested in chasing you anymore, you'd have to stop and tease it again. However, if you stopped now, it would be certain death.

Slowly, you were reaching the shore. It was just a few hundred meters ahead of you. You could feel the cold water rushing against your sking as you pushed forward, caressing you as if to encourage you to keep going. You could also feel the Tatzelwurm right behind you and you imagine that if there was a way for it to snarl at you, it would, its desire to dig its sharp teeth into your tail so strong you could almost feel it.

Suddenly, you are met with the edge of the lake, the water slightly more shallow. Abe shoots up from the water and before you can stop and ponder how you are going to get out yourself, his hand is reaching for yours. You grasp onto it as if it was the last thing to keep you alive, which in this scenario might as well be true.

Abe pulled you out of the water and away from the shore, behind Hellboy and Liz, who were now dealing with the Tatzelwurm, and continued, until you were safe behind the agents who served as backup for your two friends. You were slightly dazed from the quick change of environment and from the physical strain your body and mind just went through. But feeling Abe's hands on you brought you an unexplainable feeling of safety, though later you started o suspect that was just Abe trying to keep you calm. Nonetheless, under the wave of tranquility and love you were surrounded by thanks to your wonderful partner, you allowed yourself to close your eyes and rest.

You didn't come to until you were in the car again, Abe's arms secured tightly around you with you snuggling into his chest. You closed your eyes as soon as you opened them, relishing in the weight of Abe's head on top of yours, occassionally pressing soft kisses into your hair. Back at the BPRD you learned that the mission was a succsess, the Tatzelwurm having been killed by Red and Liz and even Manning told you that for a first mission, you did a great job.

[you-heard-what-i-meant]

Merlin - Written in the Scars

[Arthur is king, didn't die at Camlann, and knows about Merlin's magic]

After some visitors arrive at Camelot and Merlin has a bit of a day, Arthur feels the need to check on him. He really should learnt to knock before he barges into Merlin's room (or not).

Notes:

Title taken from The Script's song Written in the Scars.

No specific Merthur, but definitely hints of it if you want to read it that way ;-).

Unbeta'd, all mistakes are my own (and I apologise)!

Angst, Whump, Emotional Whump, Mentions of Injuries (no detail), Mentions of Torture (no detail), Beginnings of Merthur.

Available on AO3 HERE!

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The hour is late and Arthur is moving fast through the corridors of the castle. Druids had arrived earlier in the day asking for Merlin’s help - Emrys’s help. They had a young girl with them who they discovered bound and gagged in a cave - she was refusing to speak, and what little information they’d managed to gather through telepathic communication wasn’t helping. She was clearly in possession of magical abilities, and it would seem she was abandoned to die by magic-fearing parents. Merlin had spent all day working with her and had reported back to Arthur and the Druids, but the king had sensed all the things Merlin wasn’t saying, and now he felt the need to check in with him. 

The king doesn’t think twice as he strolls into Merlin’s chambers, heading for the dressing area where the man is likely preparing for bed. He’s just about to call out when he catches a glimpse of the man in question. Completely unaware of his friend’s presence, Merlin’s back is to Arthur as he pulls his undershirt over his head and drops it on the bed. The sight of the exposed skin of Merlin’s back causes Arthur’s words to die in his throat.

Arthur is expecting to see perfect, unmarred skin - maybe the odd mark from their many misdemeanours over the years. What he’s presented with is a collage of scars - some deep-set, some raised, large, small, stretching and criss-crossing and twisting. They come into stark relief and almost glitter in the candlelight as Merlin moves, stretching his arms above his head to work the stiffness out of his muscles and drawing Arthur’s eyes along the slender limbs. 

There he finds more scarring. What looks like an old burn covers the whole of one shoulder, clearly continuing over the front of his body. Marks that look very much like rope burn twist around both of Merlin’s slim arms, culminating in a mess of ligature marks around his wrists. Arthur has a moment of sick recognition as he looks to Merlin’s back again - he can place the weapons that caused most of the marks. Whips, blades, fire, arrows… The rest he can only assume are courtesy of falling on something, restraints, and magical wounds. 

He follows one scar - almost black in colour - from just above his bony shoulder blades, up his neck along the line of his spine, disappearing into his hairline. Arthur’s gaze catches Merlin’s face in the window, and finds himself locking eyes with him in the reflection.

Merlin whips around, the flash of gold in his eyes just dissipating as his arms instinctively move to cover his chest before he has the wherewithal to snatch his shirt up from his bed and vaguely hold it against his body. His startled voice comes out higher in pitch than normal.

“Don’t you know how to knock?!”

Arthur’s eyes are drawn to his friend’s shoulder, seeking that horrific burn that he’d seen a moment ago. He just catches sight of it before it finishes quietly fading into perfect, pale flesh. His response is instant. 

“Stop it.”

“What-?”

“Drop the spell.”

Arthur’s words come out a mixture of commanding king and heartbroken confidante. Merlin freezes, and it occurs to Arthur that given the long history of prejudice against magic in Camelot, his words could have an unintended threatening undertone. He should have tempered his reaction. He deliberately softens his voice.

“I just mean… You don’t have to hide from me.”

Merlin’s searching gaze is anxious. Arthur fights to keep his face somewhere between neutral and softly encouraging. 

Neither of them speak for a long moment. 

Finally, the king’s quiet words fill the space between them.

“Your - What happened to you, Merlin?”

Merlin shifts, his blue eyes darting to the floor as they flash gold, his hands fidgeting with the screwed up shirt that he’s barely covering his torso with. Slowly, the scars fade back into existence. He clearly tries to be flippant but his voice comes out more sad than jovial. 

“You’re going to have to be more specific.”

After a moment of indecision Arthur steps forward, gently liberating the shirt from Merlin’s grasp and tossing it back onto the bed. He stands for a moment appraising the man, who shuffles uncomfortably in his exposure to Arthur’s scrutinising gaze even as he raises his head almost defiantly. 

Arthur’s eyes catch on the gruesome ligature marks around Merlin’s wrists. He finds himself reaching for Merlin’s forearm and softly holds it as he appraises the marred skin, the fingertips of his free hand tracing over the scars so tenderly it makes Merlin shudder. It occurs to Arthur that this is a somewhat intimate gesture, but the bond he and Merlin have makes them far more tactile with each other than people would normally expect. 

Arthur looks up to meet Merlin’s eyes,  a mixture of fear and pain in his own. 

“I don’t recognise most of these wounds.”

Uncertainty twists Merlin’s face. 

“No, you… You didn’t see how most of them happened.”

Arthur’s eyes close in regret. He takes a deep breath before he meets Merlin’s gaze again.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there to protect you.”

Surprise crosses Merlin’s face.

“No, Arthur, that’s not - none of it was your fault.“

“Either way, I’m sorry.”

Merlin doesn’t know how to respond. Silence reigns again. 

“Tell me about them.”

Merlin’s eyebrows shoot up. “What?”

Arthur pours every ounce of sincerity into his voice that he can muster. “Please tell me. I need to understand - there have been so many times I wasn’t there to help you.  After everything we’ve been through, I just want to know you.”

Merlin’s crystal blue eyes are wide, and there’s hesitation in his features. 

“I’m not sure you want to know, Arthur.”

Arthur’s heart aches and the pain of distrust burns in his stomach.

“Why, because some of them are from magic?”

Merlin’s eyes widen even further.

“No! Well… I know you’re still getting used to the magic thing, but it’s mostly that -”

Merlin cut’s himself off, his mouth opening and closing soundlessly as his eyes search Arthur’s face for something.

“What?”

Compassion floods Merlin’s features. His voice is gentle when he speaks.

“... Because I don’t want you beating yourself up about them.”

Arthur stares, dumbfounded. He eventually regains his composure enough to respond.

“Well there’s not much you can do about that. I already feel a world of guilt just from seeing them. I just really want - no, I need to understand everything that’s happened to you - to us. We’ve never actually spoken about everything, never really taken the time to process all the things we’ve been through.”

Merlin is quiet, doubt lining his features. Arthur realises what he’s truly asking.

“I’m sorry, I have no right to ask. But please, if you can ever bring yourself to tell me, I will sit and listen through every pain you’ve been forced to bear. I owe you the respect of at least knowing everything that you’ve been through, even if there’s nothing I can do to make up for it.”

The unshed tears in Merlin’s eyes almost make Arthur drag him into an embrace, but he knows that right now it would be more to comfort himself than Merlin. Instead he squeezes the forearm in his grasp and grips the man’s shoulder with his other hand - a gesture he has always used to indicate his support and respect. 

Merlin studies him for a moment. Arthur prepares himself for another rejection when the man raises his head decisively. 

“It doesn’t bother me. To talk about them, I mean. I just want to be sure it’s not going to push you into a bad place. You’ve got enough going on.”

Arthur’s heart clenches at the consideration Merlin is showing him. Always. Merlin is always about others - particularly Arthur - first and himself last. He raises his head to match his friend’s.

“Merlin, I promise you that this isn’t about self-punishment or whatever else. I want to know you. If you are willing to tell me, I’d be honoured to listen.”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

Arthur wants to curl up in a ball. Both seated on the bed, Merlin had started small - “Arrowhead - you were there for that one.” and “No you didn’t know about those ones. I got the stuffing kicked out of me by some of your father’s fan club. Gaius patched me up.”

It soon progressed to “That was Aulfric and Sophia, the Sidhe? You were actually standing right beside me and watched it happen but you were too enchanted to notice anything. That took a really long time to heal. It sometimes still burns, even now. All the scars caused by magic do.”

And eventually they arrived at “I’ve lost count of the number of people who have tried to strangle me or cut my throat” and “Uhhh.. yeah. Those ones… I got taken by some of Morgause’s followers and, um, they didn’t just use normal weapons to make me feel their anger. Wasn’t sure I was going to survive that one, actually.” 

Finally they reached the worst of the scars, still vaguely pink and fresh looking. At first, Merlin just shakes his head - “oh a lot’s happened recently” - until finally Arthur’s gentle-but-insistent prodding gets Merlin to release a resigned sigh.

“Do you remember when… um… When I -” Merlin's utter discomfort tells Arthur exactly the event he’s thinking of.

“When Morgana enchanted you to try and kill me?”

“Yeah.”

“You were missing for days.”

“Yeah… well…” Merlin’s distress comes out in his fidgeting. Arthur suddenly feels sick. Still gently holding Merlin’s arm, he runs his fingers along the scars on his wrist again.

“She tortured you.”

It isn’t a question, but Merlin’s eyes betray his answer. For a moment Arthur can’t find his breath. Eventually his voice cracks on a question he’s not sure he wants the answer to.

“How long?”

Merlin tilts his head, a sorrowful look on his face. “Arthur…”

Arthur speaks through gritted teeth. “How. Long.”

Merlin’s eyes dart away. “Not sure. I lost track of night and day in the end.”

Arthur slams his eyes closed against the storm of emotions twisting in his stomach. Anger. Sympathy. Regret. Grief. He swallows hard and allows himself a moment to breathe - but something is itching at the front of his mind and as much as he knows he has no right to make his friend relive these horrors, he has to know. He snaps his head up, eyes instantly connecting with Merlin’s when he opens them.

“How many times has it happened?”

“- What -?”

Arthur grinds his teeth as pain lances through his chest. He falters for a moment, then his voice comes out almost a whisper. “How many times have you been tortured, Merlin?”

Merlin’s broken look tells him everything he needs to know. Grief and pain tear a hole in Arthur’s chest. He chokes out his words. “I’m so sorry -”

Merlin cuts him off “- Don’t. Please don’t do that. It wasn’t your fault, and without all these scars you wouldn’t be here now. So…” 

“I should have done better. I was supposed to protect you.”

“No, the prophecy was for me to protect you.”

Arthur glowers at the other man. “I should have done better. You mean more to me than you could ever know, Merlin. I should have done better.”

Merlin’s bright blue eyes are sad, yet there’s a hint of defiance there. His voice is strong when he speaks.

“No matter what they did to me, I always knew it was worth the pain. Because even though I couldn’t tell you, even though I hoped one day you could know the real me… Everything that happened to me meant that you got a step nearer to who you needed to become. And while they were busy hurting me, they weren’t hurting you.”

Arthur makes a choked sound, blinking rapidly as he looks away. He flounders for an embarrassingly long time before finding his words.

“Merlin, I… You’ve been all alone with it, all this time. I… I abandoned you. Somewhere inside myself I knew, but I still did nothing about it. I’m so sorry Merlin.”

Merlin knows there’s no response that would appease his friend, so instead he places his free hand on Arthur’s forearm and squeezes. 

They lapse into silence. Arthur is almost unaware of the way he’s running his thumb over a deep scar on Merlin’s forearm, still in his grasp after all this time. He marvels that the man doesn’t shy away from touch after all he’s suffered, and after a moment’s thought it occurs to him that no-one else does touch Merlin. The only person Merlin is at all tactile with is him. 

Something dawns on Arthur. He meets Merlin’s soft gaze. “That spell you were doing earlier - do you keep that going all day just so no-one sees?”

Merlin’s already shaking his head before Arthur’s finished speaking, his dark curls bouncing and a teasing smile playing at the corners of his lips. 

“Not entirely, just my hands and wrists. Why do you think I’m always wearing tunics and neckerchiefs?”

It gets Arthur thinking. He’s only seen Merlin in any state of undress once. Maybe twice. Both times when they were on long journeys and stopped to bathe in rivers. Merlin practically hid from Arthur the whole time - keeping the water up to his neck. Arthur had only glimpsed Merlin’s bare torso for seconds as he entered and left the water. And his skin had been -

“When we’ve bathed in the rivers, you’ve always managed to avoid me seeing you properly. And the few glances I got, I thought your skin was too perfect for someone who’d been in as many scuffles and accidents as you had. I should have known.” 

Merlin gives an embarrassed chuckle. “Yeah, I was only just learning about mirage spells at the time, so I tried to make sure you didn’t see anything. I could make myself look like a totally different person, but I was struggling with how to look like me, only better.”

Arthur’s heart cracks.

“There’s nothing about you that needs to be ‘better’, Merlin. There never has been.”

Merlin’s eyes are soft and sad. “Arthur, I’ve been hiding who I really am for my whole life. If people saw all this-” he wiggles his scarred arm slightly in Arthur’s gentle grip to demonstrate his meaning “- they would have questions. And people would fear me. A horrifically-scarred sorcerer doesn’t exactly scream ‘trust me’, does it? I mean, look what happened with Edwin -”

Arthur blanches as Merlin’s words. “- Don’t compare yourself to him -”

Merlin sighs good naturedly. “I’m not saying I’m like him, I’m saying that people were scared of him because of how he looked. We’re trying to build a new world here, Arthur, I’ve got to do everything I can to make people like me.”

“People love you, Merlin. You saw the reaction when you became court sorcerer -”

“- Arthur -”

“- Merlin.”

They lock stares, reading a multitude of unspoken words in each other’s faces. Merlin breaks the impasse first. He speaks quietly, his eyes so full of something that Arthur feels the need to gently squeeze the forearm in his grasp again. 

“I’m sorry for not telling you - for not being honest with you again. I just -”

“- Merlin.” The way Arthur speaks his name makes the other man go still. Arthur suddenly feels the weight of what he’s put Merlin through this evening.

“I understand. It’s personal. I’m truly sorry I’ve intruded on something so private. I had no right to demand that you showed me any of this, and I especially had no right to ask you to relive it. ”

Merlin just shakes his head, waving off the notion that Arthur has somehow violated his privacy. Arthur takes it as an indication to continue, speaking just in time to cut off whatever Merlin was about to say.

“But I want you to know that you should be proud of your battle scars. They’re proof that you’ve survived unthinkable pain, that you’ve risked your life time and again to save myself and countless others. You’re the greatest warrior Camelot has ever seen -” Merlin scoffs, about to refute the statement until Arthur barrels over him “- you are. Please promise me you’ll at least never hide these things from me again?”

Merlin’s eyes search the king’s face. He finds nothing but sincerity. 

“I promise.”

Arthur inclines his head in acknowledgement. After a pause, he voices one of the many things that are still bothering him. “You said the magic scars still hurt sometimes - is there anything I can do to help? Is there a salve I can help you put on or something?”

Merlin smiles softly. “No, it’s not… It’s not the scars on the outside, if that makes sense?”

Arthur nods slowly. He often still feels the burn of the Questing Beast’s bite. “Well, I want to help in any way I can. Anytime there’s anything I can do, whether it’s to listen as you rage against the discomfort, apply a salve, or help you to bathe - anything, you come to me. Agreed?”

A cheeky smile lights up Merlin’s features and Arthur’s heart glows. “Do you want to give me a bath Arthur?”

To Merlin’s surprise, Arthur’s answer is completely serious. “Yes. Anything you need.”

Seeing the stunned expression on Merlin’s face, Arthur continues. “Look, I’ve never had to deal with anything on my own. How many times have you tended my wounds, stayed by my side through the night so I could sleep safely, helped me to bathe when I’m hurt?”

Merlin goes to speak, but Arthur cuts him off. “ - Don’t you dare say it was your duty. You’ve always been so much more than a servant. And it works both ways. I’m always here for you, understand?”

Merlin’s smile is soft but so full of affection it almost hurts. “I know.”

Arthur grins back at him, the tension melting away as he snatches up Merlin’s shirt and throws it in his face.

“Now for love of the gods, put your shirt back on before someone walks in and gets the wrong idea.”

Merlin wiggles his eyebrows suggestively. “Wouldn’t want people getting jealous, would we?”

Merlin’s delighted laugh when the well-aimed pillow hits him in the face puts Arthur’s world back on its axis, even as he ducks the barrage of soft furnishings that magically hurl themselves at him. 

[silver-tooth-the-panther]

Half-Demon! Tanjiro AU Masterpost

(This has been my comfort AU for a while)

I personally love the idea of Tanjiro having some properties of a demon, but he can still keep his humanity. So here are some details about the AU! (Keep in mind that I haven’t finished the manga)

In this AU, Tanjiro couldn’t fully cure his demon side even after defeating Muzan, but he was able to regain his humanity. His body changed quite a bit and some of the changes are:

He doesn’t need to eat people and he could use his blood to make other demons regain their humanity.

He can bring back dead demons by rebuilding them using their Blood Demon Art remnants

He can also turn people (both dead and alive) into half demons

However, he cannot bring back a human if their head was destroyed

And he can’t bring back demons that don’t have a Blood Demon Art

He can control water to fight off hostile demons and to defend himself. Tanjiro can also use it to heal people.

When he’s pissed, Tanjiro can turn water into fire and use it as a heatwave (he’s only done this once though)

Tanjiro grew quite a bit. Now he’s 6 feet and 4 inches tall

When he is ready for battle, his fangs and claws come out and his eyes become those of a demon.

When he isn’t fighting, he just looks like a normal human with tiny micro fangs.

When it comes to sunlight, he can go out in the daytime, but his skin is extremely sensitive. He can’t stay out for too long, otherwise he gets an extreme sunburn.

After every battle, he needs to regain his strength by sleeping.

Tanjiro can also purr! He usually does it when he’s happy, sick, or injured.

He will occasionally hold someone who is sick or injured close and purr so that they can heal faster

The power of the blood demon art gets halved when they become half demons. This has angered quite a few demons when Tanjiro tried to convert them

Tanjiro still prefers to use his sword in battle. He only uses his fangs and claws if he has to.

He’s quite cuddly and his bigger stature makes him a giant teddy bear

Demons can communicate using a language of growls (it’s really cute!) and now Tanjiro can do that too

They can also communicate telepathically with Tanjiro like Muzan was able to do

When demons suffer from panic attacks or get too flustered, they lose control of their voice and they start growling, roaring and crying

Half demons also have human disguises, so they can walk through villages with no suspicions

He is the new Demon King! It take him a minute to get the hang of it, but he figures it out!

Tanjiro also is incredibly proud of the demons who’ve made progress

Everything here applies to Nezuko too, except the height change, water powers, ability to bring back demons, and the role as Demon King

In this AU, Tanjiro and Zenitsu are dating while Inosuke and Nezuko are just vibing and doing their own thing.

Feel free to ask me any questions or have me write drabbles about the AU! If I get any questions, I’ll link them to this master post.

Chapters:

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

More Information!!

How the demons are doing

Zohakuten and Karaku chat ai!

Tanzen Headcanons!

OC information!

Chat With Half-Demon Tanjiro!

Hashira Information!

Incorrect Quotes!

“Drink the Juice!”

More incorrect quotes!

Drabbles!

When the Emotional Support Needs Help (warning comfort vore)

The Friendly Beast: Tanjiro vers. (contains comfort vore)

The Friendly Beast: Gyutaro vers. (Contains comfort vore)

When Worlds Collide

Flying High

You Can Trust Me (contains soft vore)

Safety From The Sun (contains comfort vore)

Lost And Found (contains soft vore)

Brotherly Troubles (contains soft vore)

In The Belly of The Beast (contains soft vore)

I’ll Keep You Warm (Contains soft vore)

Traveling Within a Harpy (contains soft vore)

Protected by a Friend (contains soft vore)

Mom Mode (contains soft vore)

[phoenixcatch7]

So earlier I made a post about sun/moon from fnaf getting reincarnated as jc, when I was torn between him and wwx. I really couldn't quite finalise it as jc, wwx just had too much potential.

But then I thought, well, why not both? Sun and moon are technically two people! Just give them different bodies!

And obviously you think hyper overworked sun = wwx and quiet angry moon = jc, but... I actually think it might be better the other way around? I'm not sure

Because we don't really see enough of moon to get a clear read on his character? He's corrupt now, we know that, scaring the kids, but there's proof of him previously being very good at putting hyper kids down for nap time, on top of his role as the guard dog of the complex during the hourly recharge when the lights go out. So clearly he's actually capable of being soothing and gentle and caring, as well as probably very protective. By the game, though, he's just a malicious hunter kidnapping kids for the rabbit boss. A bit of a mischievous streak, he certainly likes to make you sweat.

There's a great parallel obviously between moons corruption and wwx's demonic cultivation, jc constantly being the no fun responsible one sick of everything like sun, but I feel like suns martyring protectiveness is much more like wwx. Sun is a bit of a control freak though, and moon seems much more adaptable.

There's also the twin jades but they're way too stable to be the daycare attendant XD. Maybe jgy and jzx? They're half brothers with the same birthday after all... I don't know... The potential is there but again they're not as manic as the twin prides lol.

Anyway they'd make excellent foils, being in different bodies and able to communicate for the first time. I can see them basically being glued at the hip as soon as they were reunited. The fear of dogs would be interesting because they're theoretically more than old and experienced enough to not have it be so world defining but on the other side they were made lived and died in the pizza plex, they would never have seen real animals before except MAYBE the occasional service dog that wouldn't be allowed in the actual play area anyway. I could see wwx loosening up and getting a bit boisterous as he finally gets to live life on his terms (ish) no matter which he is. Him being trained as the right hand of jc would be really interesting if he was moon, given their original roles. Either way I can see him going dark to protect the wens and the other being beside himself at the thought of being separated again. They'd both have pretty severe trauma regarding losing cores, so I don't know if wwx would actually be able to sacrifice his. That little time would be very interesting... Very canon divergent.

In terms of romance, though... I can't see them being willing to share lol. Maybe if they both dated the same person....? I really don't know, romance is not my scene. I'm making them asexual either way lmao.

Oh but the dynamics would be so good!! Yes, I'm thinking moon wwx, they'd be nigh telepathic twins who live to rile each other up. There'd be the angst of recovering their 'relationship' from ruin, being separate people instead of one... Never being able to return to what they once were and if they even want to... Moons broken trust in sun and suns guilt at the way he handled it but having no other option... Both of them completely disillusioned by authority and the people that should have saved them, especially so in wwx's case when his parents died and left him on the streets again.

Ooh! A scene where people get cursed to gem fusion or something, meant to force bickering couples to work together or something, but the prides just flow together like they were meant to be. Lots of should they/shouldn't they unfuse and the realisation that they're separate people now with separate wants and wishes.

They'd probably have pretty severe separation anxiety that their parents would hate though... Burial mounds time skip would be the WORST.

Wwx, experiencing freedom and sunlight for the first time: BEST SECOND LIFE EVER :D!! I can't believe humans get to live like this!

Jc, now having to do work on PAPER like a neanderthal and unable to get moon to shut up by flicking the light switch, still dealing with simultaneously overbearing and emotionally neglectful handlers/parents: yeah no this is just fantastic.

Or wwx: hey hey hey play with me now we're in separate bodies let's go swimming like humans

Jc, grounded for running off to play with wwx and missing training: >:(

Wwx:... *back flips his way upright and tosses jcs paperwork into the harbour*

Jc: *years of pent up aggression that would have gotten them discontinued if he'd acted on it* *bodily throws them in the lake after it*

They'd be soooooo particular about the arts too XD. Mr sun 'be creative on your own time we are making ART' drop. Ooh jc being able to reconnect with kids on his own terms, not being forced to care for them twelve+ hours a day every day without break. Wwx being able to person again without the corruption.

My headcanon for the DA is that it's one person, just two... Filters? Probably share a memory bank but slightly different ai that grew more separate as the corruption spread, cuz it's something to notice that while moon seemingly had it the worst out of the animatronics, sun... Had zero influence. He was perhaps even less affected than freddy, and infinitely more aware of the situation, though he was powerless to change it.

I'm not sure entirely how it would rewrite the plot, that's something for a different time.

[bloodymary83]

Black Eyed Children/Black Eyed Kids

I know it sounds unbelievable but, I had an encounter with two black eyed children when I was a teenager. I was at home alone. I ironically lived in a rural area in the Appalachian Mountains. I want to point out that I was a 14-year-old girl at the time. I had friends who would sneak out of their house and come to see me, we would💨🌿 ( this is part of why I got shipped off to Great Grandma In Maylasia). I was a gothic kid and so were my friends. So, when I saw two teenage boys walk up to my front porch in black hoodies, I thought they were my friends. This was in 1997 so we didn’t have cellphones to text each other and it was common to just show up unannounced. I opened the front door (luckily the screen door was shut and locked) when the boys looked up, I could tell they weren’t my friends. They had a weird smell like chemicals and freshly dug dirt. It made me feel sick to my stomach. Once again, I was a goth kid, so I was used to seeing sclera contacts but, these weren’t sclera contacts. You can still see some of the white sclera even with the contacts, the contacts also leave the color of your iris showing. These were completely back no colored iris, no dilating pupil, no visible contact lens at all!! There were two boys, one looked about 13 and the other 17. The younger shorter one spoke first, “Hello Ma’am we’re lost, can we use your phone to call our Mommy?” That was very weird for a teenager to say, it caught me off guard because he said it in a very deep voice that did not sound childlike at all. I just stared at them dumbfounded. The young boy then continued, “You just have to open the door”, he pointed to the latch on the storm door. I can’t explain why but, I started to do what he said. I lifted my left hand and went to undo the latch on the screen door. Chinese New Year’s had just passed, and my grandfather had given me a red Chinese coin bracelet. My Grandfather had informed me the bracelet was to bring me good luck and it was traditional to wear it on your left wrist. When I lifted my left hand to undo the latch the boy looked at my wrist and gasped. The older boy started making weird chittering noises like an animal in distress. The younger one’s face grew dark, and he furrowed his eyebrows. In that same deep voice he said, “Get rid of it.”. I had no idea what he was talking about and said, “Get rid of what?”. The younger boy angrily pointed to my bracelet like it had personally offended him and said in a louder more threatening voice, “GET RID OF IT!”. The older boy started making low growling noises. That’s what made my fight or flight instincts finally kick in. I slammed the door in their faces and bolt locked it. The younger boy was still staring directly into my eyes through the peep hole in the door. The older boy was pacing back and forth making those weird chittering noises. The younger one turned to the older one and said, “No good, can’t go”. The older boy stopped his pacing and they looked at each other like they were telepathically communicating something. Both boys then turned around walked off my porch and down the road. Ancient Chinese coins can work like a talisman and there’s a Hindu belief that a red string bracelet will protect you from the evil eye. I imagine their hesitation had something to do with that. To this day I wear a red string bracelet on my left wrist. Most people scoff at me and think I’ve just bought into the Hollywood Kabbalah craze but, maybe Ashton Kutcher isn’t as crazy as people think.

[st4rfvckerr]

@mazerunner-rarepairs it's still the 31st here so !!

honestly this was supposed to be Aris/Teresa but it kinda turned into Aris/Teresa/Thomas and im not mad about it

prompt: "because i want you to"

aka Teresa and Aris in the scorch after betraying Thomas

~

The scorch is hot and dry and Teresa is restless.

More than anything, she attempts not to think about Thomas, in the constricted little room adjacent to the cave she is currently sitting in. More than anything, she attempts not to think about Aris, curled across from her with his knees hugged to his chest. More than anything, she attempts not to think about what she has done.

She's exhausted and sore and still shaky from the aftermath of the day’s event and yet, she doesn't seem to be able to fall asleep. She squeezes her eyes shut and sees nothing but Thomas’s tortured face, frozen mid-scream, printed onto her corneas, an agonizing reminder of the actions she has committed, of her betrayal.

She tries to calm down her shaking, running a soothing hand down her arm and feeling the goosebump that had formed too long ago, but in vain. She only trembles harder, her core rattling as she grinds her teeth together.

Aris doesn't seem in a better shape, and even from where she is sitting Teresa can see how pale he is, his cheeks a sickly shade of white. He's avoiding to look at her and Teresa doesn't blame him, wishing she could seal her eyes closed and erase the vision of anything that would remind her of what she had been forced to do. The idea of Thomas alone in that small cell with the conviction that Teresa and Aris had never cared for him makes her nauseous. It's far from the truth, maybe further than Teresa would admit, and they both know it. She wishes Thomas could know that too, wishes she could run to him and embrace him, press her palms to the small of his back and his neck and promise him that she never wanted any of this to happen, that all she ever wished for was for him to be safe. That she loves him.

She doesn't move.

Aris shuffles, and Teresa’s eyes mechanically flick to where he is sitting. They share one long, meaningful look, and Teresa cannot take it anymore.

Come here. She reaches out telepathically, the morbid silence surrounding them too thick to be disturbed.

Aris doesn't budge, fidgeting with his hands as he adverts Teresa’s gaze again, his eyes running over the artificially carved stone of the cave they are sitting in.

I can't, he eventually answers, and even in Teresa’s head his voice sounds terrified.

He's shaking, wrapping his arms around his torso to stop the tremors, and Teresa wants to be the one to hold him. She runs her fingers over the warm sand, draws lines and circles absentmindedly to avoid thinking about her situation as she chews on her lips, wishing she didn't have to go through it alone.

She breaks.

“Please,” she begs, inadvertently slipping into verbal communication. “I need you.”

Aris blinks, runs a hand through his hair, and sighs. He untangles his long limbs and stands, stretching onto the position. He takes small, hesitant steps towards Teresa, and when he's close enough she pulls him in, burying her face into the pale skin where his neck meets his shoulder, breathing him in. Aris flinches but lets her, smoothing out her hair with his free hand.

He doesn't say anything but Teresa knows he's thinking, and feels his hesitation. She drives the pads of her fingers over his pulse point and feels his heartbeat, fast and sharp. His body feels wrong against hers, all cutting angles and prodding bones, but Teresa can't bring herself to care. Aris places an arm around her waist, securing her, and Teresa is more grateful for the contact than anything.

Aris eventually breaks their silence. He will hate us, he says in Teresa’s mind.

She feels sick, near instantly, her heart pounding painfully in her throat, reminded of the boy sitting not far from them after having successfully erased him from his mind.

She's almost mad at Aris, wants to claw at his skin and beg him to shut up. She doesn't, instead curling up a little closer to him. He's pliant under her touch and Teresa can feel his dread, too similar to her own. Somehow she knows that he, too, would do anything to get Thomas out of there.

Somehow she knows things won't ever be the same.

~