jiminrn-main

[aroaceleovaldez]

i think i am genuinely the only person in this fandom who has ever uttered the words “What are the narrative implications of the Cave of the Oracle being under Half-Blood Hill?”

[klausysworld]

Hear me out.....

I have this idea for you... hear me out.

Reader is camping in mystic falls....klaus just broke his wolf curse. His first rut hits him and he runs into the woods. He gets a whiff of a very good smelling scent. He follows it. Turns out he has a mate and she is not a super creature but a human. Hear me out now.... she's his true mate...and he considers her his omega.

So when he approaches her she's like a tad bit freaked out but she feels that same pull to him he does with her. She sits down on the ground and klaus let's her pet him...

Let's just say this reader is into...werewolves cause she reads a lot of fanfiction so in her mind her wildest dreams are about to come true.  And you can put two and two together.

Wolf!klaus fucking his human!reader as his mate. And after that moment they became inseparable. Your welcome. 😌

Dream or Reality?

Klaus ran far and fast, the pads of his paws thudding against the ground, wind blowing through his fur and that delightful rush of adrenaline had his undead heart pounding.

He dismissed Elijah’s annoyed callings for him and continued to enjoy the freedom he had longed for.

Everything was so intense now, even more that it already was. Every chirp of a cricket, every buzz of a bee, every crinkle of a leaf and every flap of a birds wings. He could hear for miles on end. As he looked around at his surroundings, the greens were brighter, the sky bluer. The the mud and blades of grass against his paws could each be individually felt and when he inhaled deeply, a wave of scents filled his lungs.

However one in particular stood out.

He made a sudden stop, his body skidding to a halt and his ears pointed straight up as he sniffed a few more times. His mouth watered and he pressed his snout down, following the delicious scent, chasing it as he heard the hum of a girl.

He slowed gradually and followed her as she weaves through the trees, a basket in hand which was filled with a range of wild berries. He sat down and watched as she picked from a large bush of blackberries, leaning a little closer to smell just how lovely she was. It had his claws digging into the ground and his tail beating the floor.

His eyes shone gold, bleeding into red as she bent right the way over to pick up her basket once she was finished picking from the high parts. Her short, flowy dress allowing him to see just about everything as her matching white thong left very little to the imagination.

Oh how he wanted to run up behind her and shove his mouth into her cunt. If she smelled this delicious, he could only dream of her taste.

But instead he decided to wait, follow her some more until it began to get dark and her stroll came to a stop. He looked around at the clearing she had chosen to rest at. Klaus kept low to the ground, the grass and flowers not hiding him as well as he might’ve hoped but enough.

He took a few tentative steps as she sat down against the grass, just watching the sun set. Her skin glowed under the golden hue and her hair lay beautifully against her skin. The white of her dress complimented her skin tone wonderfully, he could onto imagine how soft it would be against his tongue.

The thought alone had him walking straight to her, his muzzle brushing her shoulder making her freeze in place. Her head slowly turned to face him, wide eyes staring back at him and her breathing came to a stop.

He slowly sat before her, her lips parted slightly as he rolled his shoulders back and he sat tall before her. Her head tilted back to take in his height, a nervous breath leaving her as a soft growl rumbled through him.

She looked so weak in-front of him, so small and innocent. Oh how he knew he could just eat her up, in many ways.

Her mouth opened and closed a few times, shock written all across her as maintained eye contact with him for as long as possible. He found it amusing how she tried to stand her ground by holding his stare, he allowed her to win this, allow her to feel as though she may have the upper hand.

Klaus brought himself down to lay on his forearms and back legs, his chest barely touching the grass below.

Her hand very slowly lifted, she held it out with fear flashing through her and a twinge of curiosity as he sniffed her hand. He groaned at the addictive scent of her blood underneath the surface and licked the soft skin of her palm. She giggled quietly at the tickle of his tongue as he dragged it up her arm and her other hand pet his head gently.

“Wow” she whispered under her breath and a smile tugged at her lips as he pulled his face away and looks down at her through hooded eyes. His head tilted when he caught the scent of something rather sweet. His tail whipped side to side when he realised the source of the delicious smell and lowered his head. Her eyes widened when his nose pressed to her lower belly and she gasped softly.

Her hands ran through his fur on his neck and down his back, well as far as her arms could reach from her seated position. When she leaned forward to touch his tail he took the opportunity to get his head under her skirt, the top of his snout pressed to her panties making her jolt and squeal.

“Shit” she whispered when she fell forward in surprise onto her hands and knees over the top of him. She kept still, unsure what her best move could be here, she couldn’t make any sudden movements, it might spook him and she didn’t exactly want to be with a violent wolf when it’s nose was rubbing against her panties.

An involuntary moan left her when his long, warm tongue pressed against her and she quickly rolled to her side and onto her back.

“Oh gods” she whispered when the wolf stood over her, licking his lips and sniffing her intently. She looked up wide eyed and even more so when he barked quietly at her before pressing his nose to the valley if her breasts.

Her mouth opened and closed as she stared into his eyes, a strange glint in them that told her he was definitely more than he looked.

Dear god she read too many werewolf fanfics. She was in a field with a fucking huge animal trying to feel her up and she liked it way more than she probably should.

“Okay, okay” she uttered to herself while slowly pushing herself up to be sitting again but he didn’t move, instead her face was hidden in his chest and his rustic scent was filling her head. She groaned softly at the addicting smell and found herself nuzzling her nose against his fur.

Klaus watched in both amusement and lust, his front leg lifted to wrap around her, his large paw holding the back of her head in encouragement as she huffed him in. Warmth spread through him, pooling at the pit of his stomach as her hands tugged his fur. God he needed to have her right now, make her his before anyone else could get even the slightest view of her.

His nose sniffed at the top of her head, her hair freshly washed and soft. Her cheek pressed to his chest and a small moan left her as he stepped forward and pressed a paw to her now damp underwear. His tail wagged and he turned his head to lick the shell of her ear and make her squirm.

She fell back against the grass as he pressed his nose to her throat to gently push her downwards.

“Fuck fuck fuck” she chanted as she closed her eyes and felt the warmth of his tongue along her neck. His teeth caged her throat, the action should’ve made her reek with fear but a low growl erupted from his chest at the flow of arousal she released as he bit down gently. Her hands latched onto his fur tightly, keeping his teeth in her as he pierced past the skin to leave his mark. “Oh god” she breathed as he licked over the wounds more moving his snout further down her body.

“This can’t be happening” she whispered as his canines nibbled along the swell of her breasts and pushed the top of her dress down to have more access. Klaus tugged at the fabric but she didn’t move to take it off making him huff and bark at her.

She looked back at him confused and shook her head slowly making him grumble before grabbing the skirt of the sundress and pulling it up making her yelp as he exposed her thong. Her hand moved to cover herself and she groaned when she realised how wet she was, not noticing the way his tail wagged rapidly when she pushed them down off her legs. “What am I doing” she mumbled to herself before glancing to the wolf.

“Sit” she whispered unsure but he did so and her eyes widened. “Okay” she laughed slightly and stood up, entertained by the fact he followed her. “Go on, go home” she shooed him, but he kept his nose nice and close to the source of her scent and followed her until she stopped at a large teepee tent. She sighed and went inside, closing it up before Klaus could step in making him growl softly.

Not that it was an issue, he just powered his way through and drank in the sight before him. Seeing her pull off her dress and pull out a skimpy pair of pyjamas. Perfect for his eyes but he also hated that she would come to an open area, anyone could come by, and wear such lack of clothing.

She shrieked when she turned to see him stood before her and grabbed her sleeping bag to cover herself. It wasn’t appreciated apparently as he showed her by grabbing the end of it and pulling it roughly like a dog would a tug toy. Her hold on it was nothing compared to his and she ended up fully naked again for his eager eyes.

“What the actual fuck” she whispered looking back at him with a slightly fearful, slightly aroused look in her eyes while his shone with lust and hunger.

Her legs pressed together, her hands awkwardly hiding her sex from his view. She took a reluctant step back as he stalked toward her much like a predator does his prey before closing her eyes nervously and praying to god that this animal wouldn’t eat her.

Oh but he wanted to, just a little differently to the way she was thinking.

So when his tongue licked at her slightly shaky hands, she moved them slowly in anticipation. Her eyes flew open when he nuzzled his nose between her thighs, nudging them apart and locking his eyes on hers and his tongue curled between them. “Oh fuck” she breathed as it slid along her folds, then between them until the tip of his tongue stroked her clit.

“This isn’t real. This isn’t real.” She told herself “it’s just a dream” she whispered with a long breath, her hands moving to pet the top of his head. If it were a dream then she could do this, just live out her dirty fantasies and wake up in the morning all hot and sweaty.

Klaus chuckled in his head at her words and continued his actions. Her hands in his fur felt delightful, and her taste on his tongue was more than heavenly. Her body was so beautiful from where he was, looking straight up at her. Her face was looking up, avoiding his stare making his tail wag lowly as he buried his face further into her cunt, tongue deep inside her and the blunts of his teeth nibbling the hood of her clit to have her thighs trembling, legs struggling to keep her stood up. Her nails dug into his scruff and her knees went weak.

He let his eyes fall closed as he focused solely on her. She was overwhelming in every aspect but he couldn’t stop craving her. Such an addictive taste, smell, feel. Her slippery pink flesh was so incredibly soft, smooth like silk and he could only imagine how it will feel around his shaft as he slides in and out of her.

His tongue reached up into her, feeling for and finding that spongey little spot within her. One stroke of his tongue was all it took for her legs to give out, knees hitting the base of the tent as she moaned loudly. Her arms moved out to ease herself down as she laid on her back, thighs open for him to indulge between.

“Fucking hell” she uttered under her breath as her hands grabbed him tightly and kept his face right against her. Her fucks bucked and a sharp cry left her when his cold nose rubbed at her hot clit, his tongue continuously curling inside her until she was spilling her pleasure into his mouth. Moaning loudly with no control over herself as she came over his muzzle, she pushed herself up on her elbows to watch him tongue dart out to lap up every drop.

His dark, dangerous eyes gazed right into hers, hunger was all she could see as he licked his snout clean with a low rumble echoing through him.

Klaus couldn’t think about anything else. He needed to have her right now. He took a seat before her, he looked down between his legs to see he his long, thick cock stood in desperate need of attention. He glanced back to her, seeing her lips parted and eyes dark as she whimpered at the sight of it. He sat a little taller as she crawled forward, nervously looking up to him every few movements before she was right in-front of him. God she looked pathetically tiny compared to him like this, and he loved it.

Her small soft hands reached forward to get a gentle hold on his cock. A grunt instantly left his throat as she kept her eyes on his, waiting incase he reacted threateningly. Her eyes flickered between his face and his dick, her breathing getting heavier as both her hands slid up and down his length, his thickness filling both hands more and more as she stroked him.

“Jesus fucking Christ” she whispered when she looked at it a little too long, watching a spurt of pre-cum leak down him making her spread it all over his cock. A soft moan left her lips when his hips jerked forward and she glanced to him before slowly leaning down.

Klaus’ tail whipped side to side as her breath ghosted his tip, growl like groans leaving him before he choked on his breath as her plump lips pressed to his cock. A gasp left her and he looked down to see if something was wrong but he felt her suckling at the slit telling him everything was just perfect.

His hips jumped forward, his claws digging into the ground as he stretched her mouth open. She moaned in pain at the sting of her face but his taste was so rich and addicting that she just ignored it.

Klaus rose so he was stood up instead of sat, his hips rocking into her little mouth as she sent a flow of vibrations down him. She too was on all fours as she seemingly tried to swallow him down. His head leaned down to lick over the top of her ass, the softness of his tongue making her whimper around his succulent cock. His tongue dipped down between her cheeks to taste her once more, and of course to feel the moans she released around him again.

He listened as his little mate choked around him as his swollen tip knocked as far back as it could. Her poor throat contracted around it until she gagged and he stepped back to spare her. She coughed a little and sucked at his tip a little more before pulling back to catch her breath.

Klaus stood tall and turned around, still stood over her but now in a position ready to mouth her. Though she was so small infront of him he would be nearly lead down to fuck her.

He licked her back softly as her breathing sped up and her head looked over her shoulder to see his strong form over her. She let out a lengthy breath, a small nod to her head she she tried to mentally prepare herself for the step she was taking.

Klaus’s back legs bent to bring himself lower, his large cock going between her legs and sliding against her dripping cunt. He admired how soaked she was, he wondered how long she had fantasised of this position. To be fucked by a werewolf.

Though her loud moan told him it must’ve been a while as his tip pushed inside her. Her pussy clung to him tightly and her gasps for breath were obvious as her little body stretched for him. Klaus wouldn’t have been surprised if she came as soon as he thrust himself inside her from the way her body reacted.

Klaus wasn’t sure if this was exactly ethical but neither one of them seemed to exactly care very much about morals at that moment. She tilted her head back to look up at him, his tail wagged at the sight of her glossy eyes. Her mouth opened and a whimpered “Please” left her soft lips. He listened to her pleas, bucking his hips forward and listening to the scream that she released as her head fell back forward to look down. His front paws pushed against the tent floor to thrust himself back and forth slowly.

Her moans were melodic, her velvet walls tight. Klaus only wished he could whisper his filthy thoughts to her.

He shifted his from legs, his paws grabbing onto her hips and his claws digging into her skin making her hiss. Her pain only lasted a second as his hips began to abruptly thrust faster.

“Oh fuck” she yelled as he roughly humped into her. He stood strong on his back legs, lifting her lower region up as he pounded her from behind, quite literally like a wild animal. Her palms lay flat against the ground as her body jolted forward each time his swelled tip smacked her cervix.

His panted grunts filled the air as well as her rapid breaths and moans. The tent felt much smaller as the air got thicker. Hard thrusts knocked the air out of her every second, sharp breaths leaving her as she felt her cunt spasm around his dick. Klaus fucked her faster, harder at the feel of her slippery walls squeezing him desperately.

Klaus felt something extra sensitive growing at the base of his cock and hitting against her tight little hole. She let out a pleasant cry as she felt herself be stretched out further.

Her eyes widened and her mouth gaped open at the feel of his wolf’s knot shove in and out of her.

Klaus’s mind clouded over, he barely registered how her body shook and her screams got loud enough for the whole forest to hear. All he focused on was getting his knot so deep inside her that she was bound to him forever. His wolf clawed at her waist and hips as his hind legs steadied to fuck her as roughly as he could.

Her cunt clamped around him tightly, his knot locking inside her making her cry in pleasure when their orgasms mixed. His stuffing her full of his seed and hers exploding down her thighs. Her body fell exhausted immediately, the knotting taking its toll as it should for first time mates.

Klaus pulled out and whined as her arms gave out under her and she hit the ground with a thud. His tongue was on her face, trying to wake her up but she was barely conscious.

He circled her for a full minute before curling around her, wrapping her frame in his warmth.

His snout squeezed between her thighs which desperately tried to squeeze together. He lapped his tongue against her folds, cleaning her cunt and thighs so she wouldn’t feel sticky when she woke.

Klaus stayed awake while she slept. She slept for nearly 16 hours but he didn’t move. He abandoned any plans of hunting and terrorising civilians like he had originally wanted to when he released his wolf and instead smuggled his mate. He found himself with his muzzle in her pussy nearly every few hours no matter how hard he tried to resist, he knew it was making her sleepier but god he just couldn’t help himself. At least he managed to stop himself from fucking her again, he can only imagine how she would scream herself awake.

But he was able to hold some of his desires inside.

He kept her warm and safe for over half a day. Even when she woke, she was still drowsy and wasn‘y up to moving so he kept her comfy and pleased.

They both seemed to forget that the woods were open to anyone walking past. Elijah made the futile mistake of thinking his brother was killing the girl onto to find him with his furry face between her legs. Klaus nearly ripped his eyes out of his head.

Elijah left and returned a full day later with both men’s and women’s clothes, tossing them into the tent.

Klaus had turned back a few hours before and had to confirm the girls dreams, he was a werewolf.

“Hybrid actually” he told her and her eyes widened making him chuckle and kiss her lips softly. She wasn’t expecting such gentleness from the animal which had ruined her poor pussy but there he was, rubbing her skin to keep her warm and encouraging her to keep her eyes closed.

Klaus growled when Elijah threw the clothes in but somewhat appreciated it anyway.

He dressed y/n and then himself, scooping her into his arms and kissing her cheek.

“We’re going on a trip sweetheart, we’ll be finding many more werewolves and I’ll teach you everything you can know about the supernatural” he told her with a soft smile and slow strokes her hair as she nuzzled his chest.

[chukys-mouthguard]

please please please

“if you wanna go and be stupid, don’t do it in front of me”

featuring -> matthew tkachuk x female reader

genre -> fluff/angst

word count -> 1.4k

*not proofread

-> short n’ sweet masterlist

Surely there was no way that Matt could even think about alcohol after his multi-day bender after winning the cup. But somehow, he was knee deep in the sand, and knee deep in his fifth margarita. Jumbo margarita to be exact.

You’d begged him to pace himself, mostly concerned his body would shut down on him in protest of not being able to digest any more alcohol. But he reassured you he was good to go!

The vacation was something he’d planned spontaneously, wanting some time for just the two of you before he’d have to retire his party boy ways and get in gear for the upcoming season. Though he’d now gathered quite a reputation from fans and haters across the internet for his persona after winning the cup.

People were calling him all sorts of things, simply because he had been living his best life on cloud nine. Though you knew nothing they said was true, you were a bit unsure of how you’d deal with drunk Matt on this vacation all by yourself.

Thinking back to day three of no sleep when he thought it was a good idea to host a drunk belly flop competition at your house, only for two of his teammates to puke instantly after hitting the water. Not a fun cleanup for those involved, and Matt still won’t live that down in your heart. But this vacation was a good start to him getting back on your good side.

He’d planned a couples massage, a nice moonlit dinner on the beach, the whole nine.

“Matty, I love you.”

He smiled at you from his beach chair, the word drunk practically branded across his forehead and written in his eyes. Eliciting a chuckle from you as he simply whined, hating when you laughed at him when he’d been drinking.

“You say you love me, then you make fun. Not nice.”

“Babe, I do love you. But I also love when you’re acting goofy like this. It makes me smile, it’s not to make fun I promise.”

He just shrugged it off, reaching his hand out for yours as he closed his eyes to enjoy the moment.

“Matthew Brendan Tkachuk, if you don’t hurry up we are gonna be late.”

You scolded as he continued taking his sweet time getting out of bed. His jumbo margaritas having caught up to him and making everything difficult. A groan fell from his lips as he slid off the side of the bed, stumbling to his suitcase to look for clothes to put on.

“Babe, I laid your clothes out already. Come on! We are gonna be late!”

As much as you loved Matthew, he was getting on your last nerve. This vacation was supposed to be a turn from the crazy Stanley Cup celebrations. A chance for the two of you to have a moment for yourselves before training camp and another crazy season got underway. Matthew having told you the trip wouldn’t be consumed with drinking as he was sure his liver couldn’t handle anymore after the week long partying he’d done back home.

You should’ve listened to his dad and Brady, both of them telling you that Matt wasn’t done celebrating yet. Though you wanted to believe he’d retire the alcohol for even a few days to make the most of this trip with you.

He smiled at you with rosey cheeks as he grabbed the clothes from the dresser where you’d set them out, heading into the bathroom to quickly rinse off and get changed.

Checking your watch you knew you were at risk of missing your reservation, this dinner being something you’d looked forward to since the first day here. Matt had put so much planning into it, and soon it would be all for nothing.

“Okay hun, let’s go!”

Matthew finally emerged from the bathroom, the buttons on his shirt proving to be a challenge as none of them lined up properly, causing you to chuckle as you rushed to fix them.

“Matthew, stop it now!”

You scolded him as he was walking along a ledge of the beach, pretending he was on a balance beam at the Olympics. While it was funny at first, the wall had grown increasingly higher and you were nervous that he’d injure himself and put himself in hot water with the organization come training camp in a few weeks.

“Relax babe, m’fine! See!”

He sped up his pace as he quickly put one foot in front of the other, laughing down at you as you tried to keep up with him. Your heels in hand as you weren’t trying to break an ankle chasing down his drunk ass.

“And now for the dismount.”

He stopped in his tracks, taking a deep breath as he turned to face the sand, a concentrated look on his face as you pleaded with him to not do something stupid. Keith and Brady’s words replaying in your head have fun trying to keep him in check. You were very much hating them for ever putting those ideas into the universe right now.

“He’s going to attempt a front tuck, will he stick the landing.”

He flashed a smirk to you with a wink, ignoring your pleading for him to stop. Telling him to think about the upcoming season, training camp, the team would kill him if he ended up with a season ending injury because he was drunk in Mexico pretending to be an Olympic gymnast.

But Matthew surely didn’t listen, attempting his flip only to fail miserably. His groans immediately sobering you up from any drop of alcohol you’d had, though nothing compared to him.

“Matt, are you okay!”

He rolled in the sand grabbing at his shoulder as he groaned, and your fears had come true. A torn ligament, broken bone, surgery, his season would be in jeopardy.

“Matt, come on tell me what’s wrong?”

His groans soon turned to chuckles as he smiled at you, your concern immediately turning to anger as you smacked his arm.

“Are you fucking kidding? What the fuck is wrong with you! Get yourself back to the hotel, I’m done.”

He quickly realized his joke was nothing but, running after you and stopping you in your tracks. His hands were holding tight to yours as he frantically apologized.

“Baby I’m sorry, okay, it wasn’t funny. You’ve just been so stressed and worried about me all trip, I thought you needed a good laugh.”

“So you pretend to fucking get hurt? Everyone told me this trip would be me baby sitting and got were they right! You promised this was a trip for us, to relax after the hype of the Cup celebrations. But here we are with you drunk everyday once again. I should’ve known this would turn into a multi day binge for you.”

You rolled your eyes as you pushed past him. Matthew cursing himself for fucking up this trip, one that he’d planned and promised to be anything like the last month or so. And yet he’d fallen short, living up to the expectations of everyone that told you that he’d not give up the partying.

“Baby please, okay I’m sorry. Please stop.”

Matt stood in front of you, his hands caressing your face as he tried his best to apologize.

“You’re right, I promised this vacation was for us. And I ruined that by getting so drunk. And that joke wasn’t funny, I know you’re just worried about me doing something stupid. Which, I fucked that up. Clearly. But, please don’t be mad at me. Let me fix this!”

You tried your best to keep your stern look and be mad at him, but as he peppered your face with kisses. Moving to your neck before he picked you up and spun you around, earning a laugh from you and knowing he’d won you over.

“See, I knew you couldn’t be mad at me for long!”

Rolling your eyes you kissed him back, running your hands through his curls as you sarcastically smiled up at him.

“Well I’m still mad, but if you promise to not do any more stupid drunk shit like that, maybe I’ll forgive you.”

He nodded his head, stealing another kiss before he started walking towards the water with you in his arms.

“Matthew, what are you doing? This feels like another stupid drunk thing!”

The closer the two of you got to the water the more you fought his grip, knowing he was planning to take you for a swim. Matthew laughed at you as his arms held tighter to you, ready to dunk the two of you into the ocean despite your pleading for him to stop and turn back.

“No, no babe, it’s not I promise. The water will help sober me up quick! But they say night swimming is dangerous alone, I’ve seen plenty of research studies!”

[catholicdaredevil]

disarming || tormund giantsbane x gn! reader

hello all! i haven't posted anything i've written in a while (over a year) but when prompted by my daughter grack i searched back through my google docs and found this fic that i don't think i ever posted so here we go! (also this hasn't been edited lol)

summary: gn! reader kills a thenn and tormund is bricked over it

words: 2k

warnings: violence!!!!!! use of knives, punching, kicking, stabbing, and killing!!!! to be fair it's all canon typical violence for game of thrones but still there's your warning! also short references to nsfw but no detailed action

ao3 link

Warm callused hands framed your face and he leaned in to kiss you. 

Except Tormund didn’t kiss you, kiss was too gentle a word for it, he consumed you. Every time he pressed his mouth to yours it was like he was trying to drink you down, overwhelming sensations of nothing but him causing your brain to go haywire. He didn’t give pecks, no small chaste kisses, that was your thing. When you’d walk past him and pause just to creep up on your tiptoes and press a soft kiss to his cheek then carry on with whatever you were previously doing. Sometimes he let you, he knew you liked those gentle kisses, wanted to give you whatever you wanted when he could. 

However most times he’d slip his hands into your hair, or around your waist and pull you into him with strength you couldn’t get out of if you tried, tip your head back and deepen the kiss. And if when you finally pulled away you looked dizzy, hair a mess and breathing ragged, then that was just a bonus. 

“I swear on–on– on all of the southern gods, every single one of them, that if you ever come near me again I’ll fuckin’ kill you,” your finger jabbed into the Thenn’s chest, loud voice carrying throughout the camp. You can hear the mutters of people gathering around, the syncopated overlapped voices of the other free folk watching, waiting. 

“If you didn’t have Tormund to back you up I bet you’d be so much quieter. Maybe you need someone to teach you to be quiet, little one.” He leaned in, voice low and predatory with a grin stretching out the scars that covered his face. Those white lines marking a Thenn that always made a chill run down your spine. 

“I need no one to back me up, I don't want Tormund’s help and he couldn’t stop me if he wanted to. You think I would be Tormund’s if I couldn’t handle my own?” 

As if he could sense his name spoken from across the way, you hear Tormund walk up, his loud voice familiar enough to pick out of the crowd circled around you and the Thenn. 

“What’s going on?” Tormund’s words end in a growl as he finally breaks through the masses to see you. 

Your mouth twisted down into an angry frown and the hand not currently inches from the other man’s chest is clenched into a fist and trembling just slightly at your side. He takes the final few steps to get to your side, a glare pinning the man in front of you in place. He had joked before but only a fool didn’t hesitate going up against Tormund Giantsbane. There was a reason he was Tall-Talker, Horn-Blower and Breaker of Ice. Tormund was less a man and more a force, a storm that roved over lands destroying anything stupid enough to get in his way. 

Tormund’s hand rests on your shoulder, his body tense in anticipation, always seconds away from swinging a blade at anyone who so much as dares to glare at you and this is no different. You speak one last time before turning to walk off, “I won’t warn you again.” 

“And how do you plan to kill me little one? By whinging? Yelling? You couldn’t kill me if Tormund trained you for years.” 

His cocky words are enough to break your last shred of patience left and you spin before Tormund can react, stomping across the frozen dirt, fist clenched and ready to throw a punch. Luckily Tormund recovers fast enough to grab your elbow mid-swing and you round on him, ready to yell that you’d had enough of that shit eating grin and he could try to eat his next kill with less teeth. 

“You’ll break your sweet little hand on that ugly fucker, here.” Tormund lifts your hand to kiss across your knuckles and pushes a knife into it and nods approvingly, twisting you around to face the Thenn again. You get to watch the smirk melt off the man’s face. This is no longer a game, not even an argument. He has two options now; let you kill him or fight you and have Tormund kill him. There’s no scenario where he lays a hand on you and lives to talk about it. 

“I’ll make you a deal. You disarm me fair and square and you win, Tormund’ll let you live. If not, I carve that smirk from your face.” Your head tilts expectantly and the Thenn’s eyes shift from you to Tormund, watching the small nod Tormund gives in agreement before looking back to you. 

He grins. “Deal.”

He moves faster than you expected, quick for such a large man, but it doesn’t matter. He swings his hand out to hit you and you duck, adrenaline surging through you as your instincts take over. He’s a fool and a cocky one at that and you’re going to show him. You drop your breathing to slow and controlled, crouching slightly to study him, eyes scanning over his tall form to pick out the best places to strike. 

His leg shoots out and slams into your side. Pain blossoms across your stomach and you bite your cheek to muffle your cry, wrapping your arm around his ankle to keep him on one foot. He’s stronger than you and you know you won’t be able to hold him there for long, but you don’t need long. Your blade sinks into his leg right above his knee, twisting before you yank it back out and he tugs his leg from you with a scream. He expects you to attempt to hold onto it, so when you drop it the force of his pull twists him off balance and he has to stumble to catch himself, grunting through the shooting pain the steps cause. 

“You’re a fool. You’re a fool and I warned you.” You spit blood at his feet. He looks up to meet your eyes again and there’s a split second where you’re concerned about the rage so clearly shown on his every feature. Taking a deep breath, you force your body to relax, shaking out the tension in your joints and twisting your head until your neck cracks loudly. 

The sounds of the crowd have risen, voices overlapping and in the back of your mind you register a familiar voice shushing them all. The man in front of you is too focused on kicks, anything to keep you as far from him as possible thinking his strength lies in his reach spanning farther than your own. He swings a hand and his fist connects with your temple, your entire head rings, vision going blurry and black around the edges and you gasp. 

It takes you a moment to catch your bearings, a few stumbled steps and ragged intakes of breath, and that’s all it takes. The bottom of his foot lands solidly on your chest and he pushes with a force that likely cracked several ribs, knocking you to the ground. His own chest heaves with exertion, walking forward to stand over you and you can see the way he struggles with restraint, unused to leaving an enemy alive after a fight. 

He opens his mouth to speak and hesitates at the last second. Blood trails down your chin, shadowing a grin that gives him pause in his victory, but not long enough to stop the words from falling out of his mouth. “Fair and square.” 

“I said disarm me,” 

He puts the pieces together too late. 

The knife still clutched tightly in your hand that wrapped around where he stood slices through the back of his ankles on both feet and he drops with a scream. Crumpling to the ground, the Thenn grabs at his bleeding feet, attempting to staunch the blood that flows around his fingers and pours onto the ground below him. You’ve risen to your feet in his panic, swaying slightly as your head gets caught up in the dizzy waves of a concussion. Luckily your adrenaline still pumping through your veins is enough to keep you standing long enough for him to look up at you and lock eyes one last time. 

Your knife finds its home in the small space between the side of his collarbone and neck, right where it’s still soft and relatively easy to drive it as far in as it will go. You push until the heel of the knife clinks into bone and he finally collapses below you, ripping the hilt from your hand in his fall. He lets out one final choked off gurgle, eyes rolling back and lids closing and he’s dead. His and your blood stains your hands and clothes, a messy watercolor of death.

Now that the fight is over your body threatens to collapse, hands on your locked-up knees to keep from hitting the ground. Eyes slammed shut in an attempt to limit the way the world spins on his axis like a top and warm large arms wrap around your middle to vault you into the air. 

The earth shakes below you, but maybe that’s just Tormund in his raucous laughter and shouted words. “I told you all! Mine doesn’t need anyone for anything! Only needs me around to fuck them ‘til they cry!” 

Heat blooms in your face at his exclamation to the surrounding crowd, your hand smacking into his shoulder feebly. You doubt that even with all your strength you could do much to the man beyond a bee sting, but he grunts in fake pain at your strike just to indulge you. “I don’t think I need you for even that, I did a pretty good job at doing it myself before you came along.”

“But I do it better.” 

His almost crystal blue eyes meet yours and he’s wearing that shit-eating, Tormund Giantsbane, wolfish grin. The one that probably earned him the name Tall Talker if you had to guess. The look is more familiar than even your family and you can’t help but mirror it back at him in your own way, a smile tugging at the corner of your lips. 

“Aye, you uncivilized great behemoth of a man. You do it better.” 

Tormund connects his lips with yours, quickly licking into your mouth to deepen the kiss, drinking you down. He gets the satisfaction of the taste of you and the bitter clash of your blood that only spurs him on until his hands are fisted in your shirt and you’re whining into his mouth, almost grinding onto him from your place in his arms. 

His hold on you only tightens until he pushes on your cracked ribs and you jerk away from his touch with a broken gasp. You drop your head to his shoulder, breathing slowly through the sharp pain until it passes, slipping back into the gentle throb it sits at as a baseline. Tormund presses a kiss to your forehead, one hand softly running up the line of your spine in comfort, already walking towards your shared home. 

“Let’s get those clothes off and I can see just how hurt you are.” He says, pushing aside the door and kicking it shut behind the two of you. He sets you down on the bed delicately, not wanting to cause you anymore pain and you smile up at him standing above you. 

“I’m fine really. Well– I might have a concussion.” 

“I’ll get you taken care of my pretty little crow. Then I’ll make you cum on my tongue so many times you cry. Seeing you kill a Thenn has me harder than I think I’ve ever been in my life.” Tormund speaks the words like they’re normal, a casual conversation and mention of murder being sexy. Of course you’re sure a big part of the whole sexy-murder thing has to do with his hatred for Thenn’s and the specificity of your victim. Not that you’ll complain, or turn down the offer. 

[upsidedownwithsteve]

Hi hi, first of all LOVED SDMC you truly are a fic genius (also the way you continuously churn out quality content with blurbs and stuff on top of big fics like that is so impressive you’re amazing but also pls remember to take care of yourself). That all being said, I know you mentioned what blurbs we’d wanna see from SDMC so I was wondering if you’d be interested in writing out the billy/Steve argument that ended in the fight?? I’m just curious about how how you would’ve written it because the way you wrote their dynamic overall was really interesting to me! Anyway hope you’re doing well sending you love!!

Hi! Thank you so much my lovely, I'm so happy you liked it! You're far, far too sweet! I hope this fills in that little missing scene! 🧡

Steve was already in a strange mood. 

He’d left your cabin that morning with a small smile and no words, slipping into the forest whilst the sky was still a pale purple, the camp still asleep. 

He’d ached in such a good way, the feeling that came from having someone climb all over him the night before, the push and pull of bodies against walls and beds and desks. His lips still felt swollen from your kisses and his skin and hair smelled like you, his clothes creased from where they spent the night on the floor. 

Eddie had grinned when he’d snuck back in, a sleepy, slow beam that stretched from cheek to cheek, but he didn’t say anything about it until the next day, when they were both unfortunately within earshot of Billy. 

For his part, Eddie looked immediately sorry, not knowing the blonde boy was lingering behind them on the trail, too close and able to hear how Eddie had said your name, a whisper about “what happened, what time did you even come home?”

Billy had laughed, stopping them both, Steve turning to find the other boy grinning, teeth sharper and eyes wicked. He huffed out a chuckle at the sight of Steve’s neck, all pretty little bruises in the shape of your lips. 

Billy whistled, long and low and Eddie was already gripping the back of Steve’s shirt, a silent warning. 

“Well, goddamn, would you look at that?” Billy crowed. “Did she finally let you get your dick wet, Harrington?”

Eddie could feel the way Steve tensed underneath his hand and the silence that fizzed through the trees was palpable. Steve didn’t say a word and it only made Billy grin wider, like he’d found something new to poke with a stick. 

It all came to a head a few days later, after hardly being able to talk to you, only stealing glances across the mess hall, across the camp and over the heads of the kids. 

It was making Steve’s chest hurt, his stomach tumble in a way he wasn’t used to, ‘cause Christ almighty, he couldn’t stop thinking about you and that night. 

And then Billy was walking towards him on the dock, red lifeguard shorts matching Steve’s, whistle around his neck, sunglasses over his eyes and another on obnoxious smile pulling at his lips. 

He waited until he was standing shoulder to shoulder with Steve, both of them staring out into the lake, kids swimming in the section cordoned off by bouys and red rope. 

Steve could hear the smack of Billy’s gum, the crack of his knuckles as he flexed his hands and stared at him from behind the dark glasses. Steve knew what was coming, he felt it, his hands were already balled into fists at the thought. 

“So, was she good?”

“Get fucked, Hargrove.”

Billy laughed, all deep and sarcastic, turning to face Steve fully. 

“What?” He pouted, all fake and insincere. “Can’t we have some guy time, Stevie? Little locker room chit chat?”

Steve scoffed, “I’ve never had much to say to you, man, I’m not gonna start now.”

It was the most sensible he could be. There weren't any other counsellors around, the kids were too close - oblivious but close - and Steve wasn’t ready to get pulled into Hop’s office for shouting some bad words. 

No. If that was going to happen, he’d make it worth his while. 

“Does she fuck like she argues?” Billy continued, head tilted to the side, pulling his glasses off so he could look at Steve with those discerning baby blues. “Did you give it to her rough?”

Steve took a deep breath, held it in his chest until it burned before blowing it back out with a dark chuckle. His nails were biting into his palms and he wondered where you were, what you were doing, if you would’ve smacked Billy across the jaw already if you had been here. 

“My shift’s over,” Steve grunted, shouldering the other boy out of the way so he could walk back up the dock, away from Billy on dry land. 

Billy’s smile became a thin line, tight lipped and annoyed that he wasn’t getting the response he wanted so he pulled at the whistle around his neck, spun it around his index finger instead and called out cheerily:

“You should’ve asked Byers for a loan of that fancy ass camcorder,” Billy’s smile was devilish. “I would’ve loved to have seen if Hawkins was as tight as she see-“

Honestly, Steve was impressed that he managed to hold off that long. The sickening crack of bone against bone was satisfying - and a long time coming. His fist connected with Billy’s jaw, the pain searing up across the blonde boy’s cheekbone and Steve wanted to grin at the look of complete shock he managed to pull from him. 

But then Billy was on him, hands grabbing at the front of Steve’s shirt as he wrestled him forward, pulling him into him before he swung his own fist back and caught him on the chin. Another punch, landing by his temple, making his eyes sparkle and the lake turn a little blurry. 

Steve could taste blood, could hear kids yelling, the sound of a shrill whistle in the distance and he managed to throw two more punches at the blonde, snarling “fuck you,” as Eddie grabbed around his waist and hauled him off of the blonde. 

Murray was there first, Hopper behind, steaming coming out of his ears but Steve didn’t care. He didn’t care about the pain pulsing through his face either, that sharp sting of his skin being split. 

Billy looked worse. 

And Steve was pretty fucking sure he wasn’t going to talk about you again. Not in front of him, at least. 

[missdreamshade]

Predator and Prey

Pairing: Psychopath!Jimin x Reader

Genre: yandere au + serial killer au

Summary: You and your friends decide to go on a camping trip that quickly takes a twisted and deadly turn.

Warnings: Yandere content, mentions of blood, murder, kidnapping, graphic violence, strong language, overall dark themes, please read at your own risk

“Stop being so loud, Chan. You might attract a bear,” you friend, Gia, scolded, smacking the boy next to her with a stick.

“Ow! Geez, okay,” he muttered, standing up from his spot around the fire, “I’m going to go take a leak anyway.”

“Classy,” you piped up, watching happily as your marshmallow slowly turned golden brown over the open flames.

Chan rolled his eyes, turning around and walked away, disappearing amongst the surrounding bushes.

“Gosh, he’s so annoying.”

A small giggle escaped past your lips as you pulled your marshmallow off the stick, “At least he’s entertaining.”

A scoff erupted from her chest while she grabbed herself out some chocolate.

“Who cares,” your other friend, Hyunjin, spoke up, “Just ignore him if he bothers the spoiled princess oh-so much.”

A piece of chocolate went flying across the campfire, ricocheting itself off Hyunjin’s forehead. Almost immediately, the two began bickering back and forth, throwing insults and snide comments each other’s way. Many minutes passed while you sat back silently observing, until a pit of worry started to grow in your stomach. You almost forgot, but nearly ten minutes had passed and Chan still wasn’t back yet.

“Guys,” you hesitantly interrupted, “Do you think we should go find Chan? He’s been gone a long time.”

The two glanced your way, confusion written on their features.

“He’s fine. He’s probably just goofing around,” Hyunjin replied.

“Or he’s lost,” Gia offered, her voice hopeful.

Hyunjin sent her a glare before the sound of a twig snapping caught everyone’s attention. A figure was slowly emerging from the bushes.

“Hey, man,” Hyunjin called out, “Good thing you’re back. Y/n was starting to get worried.”

When the figure finally came into view, Gia let out a horrified gasp. The man wasn’t Chan. In fact, you had no idea who he was. He stood in silence, waiting for someone else to make a move.

Although, it was hard to notice, his hands were fully covered in blood.

“Hey, who the fuck are you? And where’s our friend?”

Hyunjin began hollering out at the intruder, standing up from his seat and taking a couple steps in his direction. The man still didn’t speak. He only cocked his head to the side, his eyes scanning your friends. Suddenly, his gaze shifted to you. A small smirk tugged on his lips. His tongue darted out, running along his bottom lip while staring intently into your eyes.

You felt weak under his stare, almost vulnerable. Whoever this man was, he radiated danger. Your eyes trailed down his body, causing a slight gasp to leave your lips the second you noticed the crimson metallic blade clutched tightly in the stranger’s grip.

“Hey,” Hyunjin shouted again, “Are you listening to me, you fucking creep?”

“S-Stop it, Hyunjin,” you stuttered out, but it was too late.

The man had already lunged himself at your friend, tackling him down to the ground. The knife was then raised over the stranger’s head and plunged deep down into Hyunjin’s chest.

A solid grip formed around your hand as Gia pulled you off the wood log. While dragging you behind her, she dashed off into the woods which circled your campsite. Panic, terror, nausea, and guilt. All those emotions swirled themselves inside your chest.

You struggled to keep up with Gia’s fast pace, especially while dodging various branches, bushes, and trees.

“Gia, stop. Stop!” you yelled out.

She reluctantly listened, stopping all her movements, and whipped around to face you.

“What? What the hell is it?”

“Wh-What about Hyunjin? We can’t just leave him—”

You felt stupid saying for it, but the idea of abandoning your friend, who may still be alive, made you feel worse.

“What about Hyunjin? Y/n, are you serious? He’s dead! Dead! And if we don’t start running, fast, we are going to end up dead too! ..”

Her hollering abruptly stopped as she jolted, her body becoming tense. You watched in fearful concern and she began wavering from side to side, then suddenly dropped face down onto the ground. The black handle of a blade sticking out proudly from her back.

“Last one standing, I see.”

Your head snapped up at the voice. Only a few feet away stood the deranged murderer. Tears began streaming uncontrollably down your cheeks. You gradually backed away, desperately trying to put some distance between you and the psychopath. He walked forward in your direction, only to stop and crouch down next to Gia’s figure.

“P-Please,” you sobbed out, watching as he pulled the knife out from your best friend’s back.

The animalistic man in front of you ignored your sad attempt for mercy, continuing to stalk up to you at an agonizingly slow pace.

Just like a predator when it finally cornered it’s prey ..

The harsh sounds of leaves crunching under his feet filled your ears. Your eyes shifted away from the weapon to actually look over his figure. Scratches, bruises, and cuts littered the visible parts of his skin. The boys must’ve fought hard to get away.

The dark denim of his jeans were torn and caked in mud. Your eyes moved to his white shirt. A crimson red colour splattered itself all around, almost like it was trying to create a sick and twisted design.

The fabric will forever be stained with the blood of your friends.

With every forward step he took, you took two backwards, that is until your back ran into the rough bark of a tree. Using it to his advantage, the man quickly closed the gap between you, stopping only when he was a mere inch away.

The man’s free hand reached out, pushing away rouge strands of hair that fell into your face. You couldn’t help but to flinch at his actions, tears still continuing to pool in the corner of your eyes. Your whole body quaked in fear.

“So innocent,” he murmured, talking more to himself than you.

You could feel the tip of his bloodstained knife make contact with your skin causing you to whimper. A sick smile tugged on his lips at the pathetic sound. He slowly dragged the blade up your thigh, only to stop when he hit the hem of your shorts. The tears threatening to fall finally gave up their bluff and fell down your cheeks.

“So delicate,” he muttered once again.

He pulled the knife away from your thigh, only to press it down against your lower abdomen, keeping you in place.

“Please,” your voice sounded weak, barely even above a whisper, “Don’t k-kill me.”

A dark chuckle escape past his lips as his free hand moved from your hair to your face, tracing his thumb across your lips.

“Kill you? Oh, baby, I’m not going to kill you.”

He leaned down, digging the knife further into your stomach, but made sure not to draw any blood. Or at least not yet. His lips made their way to your ear, lightly grazing over the soft flesh before whispering,

“I’m going to make you my new toy, beautiful. Isn’t that exciting?”

His free hand found its way to your throat, grasping onto it with a painfully tight grip. Your lungs almost immediately began burning for air. Everything in your sight became blurry, then a swarm of black dots began to consume your vision. The sickeningly sweet voice of the man in front of you echoed through your ears, sounding far off in the distance.

“You’re all mine now, babygirl .. I can’t wait to finally have some fun.”

Then your body gave out, collapsing you into the arms of a psychopath.

• • •

// Alright, I didn’t want to make myself or anyone wait for the completion of the fic, so I hammered it out! 🍄 \\

[bitsandbobsofwriting]

A rogue Druid’s “please join us” speech to Merlin triggers a few things:

Gwaine tries to commit regicide, Leon confronts his (understandable) fear of Dragons, and Merlin has a full on mental breakdown.

The knights are left to pick up the pieces and all of them consider following Gwaine’s lead.

ANGSTY ANGSTY 

TW: Blood, death, nightmares. Physical and verbal abuse. A very brief implication of potential suicide/self harm.

Everyone notices the sudden changes within the group, it would be hard not to notice.

No one has any clue what happened though.

One day, everything is fine. If they think back, they realise Merlin had seemed a little... nervous? Maybe? But other than that, everything was fine, normal.

But the next day? From then until now, a month later? Everything was different.

Arthur seemed much angrier. He flew off the handle over the smallest mistakes, he worked the knights so hard in training that at least three of them had to go to Gaius for treatment everyday, and he didn’t seem like he planned on letting up any time soon. He snapped at everyone, even Gwen and Gaius, which was unheard of.

Merlin seemed... quieter. The knights, Gwen, and Gaius barely saw him, but when they did, he flinched at even the slightest noise; his eyes constantly darted around, looking for a way to escape, and he wouldn’t let anyone touch him.

They were worried, but Arthur was so constantly furious that no one dared bring it up with him, and the one time they tried to ask Merlin, he came up with some ridiculous excuse and ran away. They thought they had barely seen him before, but after that they didn’t see him at all for at least four days.

They also noticed how both of their worrying moods seemed ten times worse when they were with each other. Even just being in the same room, made Arthur angrier, and Merlin... they didn’t want to think it but... more scared.

After three weeks of this, they gathered together, and put into place their emergency plan. Leon would speak directly to Arthur, and Lancelot would speak directly to Merlin.

Of all of them, they were the most trusted by each target, and were the most likely to get answers, and the least likely to get a bad reaction if answers were refused.

They were... pretty wrong. Merlin reacted in the same way as he had to the group two and a half weeks ago. Which is odd, because he normally tells Lancelot everything, and not only did he not tell him, he lied and came up with excuses.

Leon was much worse for wear. He showed up a while after Lancelot, pale and miserable. Arthur had just yelled at him a bunch and assigned him extra patrols.

A few days later, they were all still struggling with what to do when Arthur informed them of a quest that was to be undertaken. They were... nervous, to say the least. Going on any sort of dangerous trip with Arthur in this state was bound to go badly, but they could hardly refuse, and they definitely couldn’t bring up the issue again.

So they resigned themselves to it. Gwen wished them luck, and made sure to give Merlin an extra tight hug before they left, and Gaius slipped a few extra medical supplies in each of the knights packs, just in case.

Apparently, patrols of Camelot Knights kept going missing. Whole groups of soldiers, in one very specific area near the border, were just not coming back.

Arthur could hardly justify sending more patrols out, so despite his foul mood, and his desperation to stay away from everyone, he took himself, his five best knights, and his manservant.

Elyan could’ve sworn he heard Arthur mutter something along the lines of “As if I’d leave you here unsupervised.”, to Merlin, the tone far less jesting that it might’ve been a month ago, but he kept it to himself. They were travelling and camping together, there would hardly be an opportunity to share without Arthur and Merlin there.

And like they were all expecting, the trip was hell.

Awkward silences that not even Gwaine could fill, Merlin looking close to tears the whole time, and Arthur constantly looking like he’s considering extreme violence.

Merlin even rides at the back of the group (unheard of), doesn’t complain even once about anything (even more unheard of), and the few times he does speak, he addresses all of them by their titles (down-right panic inducing).

They, of course, realise it had been a trap far too late, and before they even had time to shout and draw their swords, the camp fades around them.

~

When they wake an indiscernible amount of time later, they have been stripped of armour and weapons, and have been shackled.

They appear to be in a circular, one-room hut, the knights spaced equally and chained to the wall. Their cloaks remain, but any chainmail or armour they had been equipped with was gone, leaving them in the thin clothes they wore underneath, completely unprotected.

Merlin stood in the middle of the room, looking very confused. Once he noticed the knights stirring, he tried to take a step towards them, but frowned when he realised he couldn’t get within a arm’s reach of them.

Once the knights came around fully, they realised that whilst Merlin couldn’t move all that much, they couldn’t speak.

Arthur looks to Merlin with fury written all over his face, and pulls violently on his chains. Merlin flinches back and gasps out:

“This has nothing to do with me, I swear!”

Before the rest of the knights have time to change their expressions to one of confusion, a man walks through the door. Everyone’s gazes turn to him quickly, and they take in his appearance.

He looked like a Druid... but not quite right, like he hadn’t actually been to a camp in a while. He wore neutral colours, browns and greens, but despite his calm demeanour and gentle face, he looked a little crazed.

Where Druids stand calmly and walk softly, this man rushed in and fiddled with his hands, eyes darting around the room at everyone’s faces.

When Merlin goes to demand he introduce himself, the Druid holds a hand up, silencing him (no magic, just a gesture), and begins to speak:

“Who I am, does not matter. But I do know who you are, Emrys. I shall explain it your friends first, so they don’t get too lost.-”

The Druid smiles sadly, and turns to the knights, all of whom (apart from Lancelot) stare on in confusion at the melancholy resignation on the Druid’s face, and the dread on Merlin’s. Still unable to speak, and with very limited movement, they reluctantly resign themselves to listening to whatever speech the villain of the week had come up with.

“-Emrys has been being seen in prophetic visions for centuries. Whilst Uther Pendragon was destined to start the purge, Emrys, or as you know him: Merlin, is destined to stop it. He is said to be the most powerful Warlock to ever walk the earth, past present and future. He can bend the very elements of the world, bring down armies, turn cities to ash with a flick of his wrist. But destiny also foretold of The Once and Future King. Most have accepted that Arthur Pendragon, is said king.-”

Merlin was stiff but panicky during the Druid’s explanation, having realised that for whatever reason, he didn’t have access to his magic right now.

He could feel it buzzing under his skin, but every time he tried to pull it forward, it abandoned him, burrowing deep into his soul and hiding.

Merlin was tense and angry, angry that the chance to tell his friends the truth himself had been taken away, but his statue-like stillness is broken as he frowns and flinches slightly at the thinly veiled disgust in the sorcerer’s voice as he says Arthur’s name.

The Knights look confused, and very much shocked, their gazes flickering between the Druid and Merlin, but he refuses to meet their eyes.

“-Together, Emrys and the Forever King are destined to bring harmony and peace to the world, to restore magic’s place alongside the non magic, to inspire compassion, and stop the unjust genocide that Uther started.-”

Arthur and Leon shuffle uncomfortably at the mention of the late King and his sins, but are more focused on the other shocking revelations. The other knights (again, bar Lancelot, who is staring at Merlin apologetically) seem invested in the story, though they’re clearly confused.

Arthur was made aware of Merlin’s magic a few weeks ago, but despite Merlin’s choice to tell him willingly, he had reacted badly, and in his rage, hadn’t allowed Merlin to explain himself. The other knights were, of course, unaware of this, though they quickly put two and two together.

Despite Merlin’s best efforts, Arthur had stayed in the dark about the whole Emrys-prophecy-destiny thing.

The Druid gives each knight a short assessing gaze, seemingly to make sure they were paying attention.

He turns his attention back to Merlin, who is trying very hard to keep his expression blank (and failing) as he listens:

-”And how long have you waited, my friend, for Arthur to play his part in destiny. Ten years, of having the prophecies shoved down your throat by idealists, being told that you have no choice but to serve a man who would see your head on a spike should he know who you truly are. Ten years in the service of a man who has caused you nothing but pain, given you nothing but nightmares.-”

Merlin flinches and looks away. Every magic user in, or even near Camelot shares the same nightmares, all caused by the Pendragon Reign. There’s no need for a discussion about it, no need for a denial. 

“-His father ripped your family apart. He himself stood at the grave of your best friend and told you he was evil, he himself killed the woman you loved-”

Arthur frowns in confusion at this. Merlin had never been in love. But he quickly doubts himself when he hears Merlin gasp quietly, and looks to him to see a tear slip down his cheek. 

Fury flashes quickly across Lancelot’s face, obviously knowing the story, but he covers it quickly, and no one is the wiser to the anger slowly growing in his chest at what this so-called Druid was putting his friend through.

The Druid speaks his next words quietly, though still loud enough for everyone in the room to hear, as he lifts a soft hand and gently wipes away Merlin’s tear:

“-I know what you see when you close your eyes. I know why you are so exhausted. But do they? Have you told them?-”

The Druid nods his head in the direction of the knights, but doesn’t break eye contact with Merlin, who sniffles slightly before looking to the floor in shame. 

“-Of the smoke and flames that you choke on when you sleep? You dream of pyres built just for you, built by the people you care most about. Even when you are awake, every second you have your eyes closed, every time you blink, you are forced to picture your so-called King with a sword at your throat, as if the scene were painted onto the back of your eyelids.-”

His voice had risen as he spoke and he had begun to pace, anger growing at the pain his Lord had gone through. He practically spits the word “King”, like just saying it disgusts him. 

Merlin remains quiet, but he has a steady stream of tears down his face as he looks back at the Druid with despair. The knights watch on in anguish as they see the way he is suffering. 

Arthur stops feeling angry and confused, and starts to feel a little guilty. Not that he would let it show; he stares on blankly.

Everyone wanted desperately to believe that the Druid was lying, manipulating them, that Merlin would deny it. But he didn’t. And that told them all they needed to know.

The Druid stopped his pacing, coming to a stand still in front of Merlin and cupping one of his cheeks softly with his hand. The knights pretend not to see Merlin lean into it slightly as his tears continue to fall.

The Druid begins again, speaking softly once more:

“-Were those fears unfounded? Were those nightmares irrational? I see the terror in your eyes. I see how petrified of your King you are.-”

Merlin lets out a shaky breath and glances quickly to Arthur, before looking back at the man in front of him.

The King is taken aback, and the knights are furious at the flash of fear on Merlin’s face when his gaze had momentarily met Arthur’s.

“-What did he do, when he found out? When you bared your soul and gave him nothing but honesty, and undeserved apologies. What did he do?-”

Merlin lets out his first audible sob, and the Knights pull at their chains slightly, desperate to comfort their friend. Arthur slumps back, remembering his actions as if they were mere hours ago.

One of Merlin’s hands lifted to cover his mouth as he chokes back a second sob, but the other lifts subconsciously to tug at the scarf around his neck.

The Druid lets a single tear escape his eye as he waves his hand gently, the scarf disappearing with the gentle golden glow of his eyes.

Merlin seems too distraught to notice; and moves both hands to clamp tightly over his mouth as tears stream down his face. His shoulders hunch, but not enough for any of the knights to miss what the Druid had clearly been trying to expose; a thin, barely healed scar along the base of his throat. As if a sword had been pressed there.

The Druid’s eyes lose focus slightly and he frowns as he ghosts a finger over the scar, seemingly asking the next question to himself:

“-Nightmares on the back of your eyelids, or visions of the future, hmm?-”

His eyes refocus, and he cards a hand through Merlin’s hair, trying to calm the man’s heartache as the knights stare on in horror. 

Arthur resists the urge to look towards his knights, not wanting to see the disgusted glares he knows they’re sending his way.

The Druid pauses for a moment in his speech, waiting for Merlin to calm slightly before he quietly continued:

“-And what has he done since then? Has he allowed explanation? Has he seen the error of his ways and tried to understand? Or has he called you a liar, and a traitor. Has he called you a monster, whilst demanding that you continue to serve him?-”

Merlin’s breathing grows deeper as he struggles to control his sobs. He lowers his hands to be clenched at his sides, shaking, as the Druid softly places his hands on his shoulders.

His next words are spoken even quieter, though the knights can still hear him and the deadly anger that’s barely concealed in the man’s tone:

“-Has he laid hands on you, and called you a beast, while you cowered in fear, knowing that if you defended yourself he would see himself proven right?-”

Merlin let’s out loud, gasping sobs once more as the Druid’s hands travel softly down, from his shoulders to his wrists. There, he looks down, sorrow on his face as he carefully lifts Merlin’s sleeves, bunching them around his elbows.

The knights decide then and there they are going to protect Merlin no matter what, no matter from whom, as they each see the handprint shaped bruises littering Merlin’s arms.

“-He has hurt you, over and over and over-”

As he speaks, the Druid hovers his hands over the bruises, his eyes glowing softly golden as they heal.

“-And you despair, believing yourself worthless-”

Merlin flinches, and his sobbing grows more intense as his face is taken in soft hands.

“-waiting on a Golden Age that he refuses to bring. He is cruel, and unjust, how many more times must he hurt you? How many more of our people will the Pendragon line slaughter, out of misguided hatred? How much more sleep must you lose? How many more nightmares must you endure? You have stood loyally by his side for a decade, and had to stand and watch as he continued his father’s legacy, forced to believe it was destiny.-”

The Druid says “destiny” as if he hates the taste of the word in his mouth, the bloodshed of the past almost thirty years clearly having made him lose faith in the prophecies.

Merlin’s breathing has calmed slightly, and the knights aren’t sure whether to be relieved or frightened, as the Druid desperately continues, clutching Merlin’s hands in his own:

“-Too many lives have been lost, too much innocent blood spilt. Haven’t you yourself been forced to kill your own people to protect this False King from the consequences of his own actions?-”

The knights think too soon as Merlin’s breathing and sobs grow erratic once more. The manservant almost falls to the floor, his eyes clenched desperately shut, and only the Druids hands on his shoulders keeping him upright:

“-I was young, and naïve once. I too, believed in Arthur Pendragon, I believed in the prophecies, I believed he would a great king and a good man-”

He leans forward, pressing his forehead to Merlin’s as he gently says:

“-but he is not. He has failed you, and failed our people.-”

The Druid steps back, but still holds Merlin’s shoulder tightly as he gives him a pleading look.

The knights know what’s coming before it is said, and with the anguish and desperation and grief on their friend’s face? After they learned what their benevolent King had done? Well... they wouldn’t have blamed Merlin for saying yes.

“-I ask you to join me, Emrys. I know it’s difficult, to give up on a man you gave so much of yourself to, but there is too much Uther in him. It’s time, and you know this, to rewrite destiny. Dig your own path, liberate your own people, bring magic and compassion and harmony back to the world yourself.-”

Merlin, though distraught, still looks doubtful, and the knights hold their breath as the Druid continues, becoming more and more furious at their inability to speak. 

All of them have tears in their eyes, if not falling already, even Arthur, though he has remained still and blank through the tears.

“-I know the flames you fear, the sword’s edge, the gallows’ drop, the axe’s fall. Do not let our kin continue to fear those things, do not stand by, waiting for the Pendragon tyrant to change, and allowing sacrifices to be made in the mean time.-”

Merlin’s sobbing begins again, and the Druid kisses him softly on the forehead before kneeling to the floor, gripping Merlin’s hands and looking up at him desperately:

"-You are Emrys, Lord of the Druids, and Conduit for all magic of this world. Not some servant that an entitled brat can toss around and treat lesser than the dirt he walks on. You are my King, our King. Not him.-”

He stands again and grips Merlin’s arms tightly, most likely leaving more bruises in place of the ones he had healed.

Merlin doesn’t notice the pain, but shakes his head stutteringly, still crying.

“-Do not let your people lose you to Arthur, as Arthur lost himself to Uther. To give up on him is painful, but the screams of your kin, burning for their gifts, echoing in your skull day and night?-”

The Druid’s hands move up to grip the sides of Merlin’s head, and he shakes him ever so slightly, his tone frantic and pleading:

“-That is worse. That is pain he will never understand, and certainly never care for. Join me, please my Lord I beg you, for our people.”

One of the Druid’s hands slides lower, to softly cup Merlin’s cheek again, but the other drops entirely.

The knights have never resented being magically gagged more than in this moment. They could do nothing but watch on in horror as the man summons a dagger behind his back.

The Druid is clearly waiting on his response, and Merlin is too distraught to notice the consequences of a wrong answer, tears flowing quickly down his face and ugly sobs forcing their way out of his throat.

Arthur watches in terror, knowing that this was his fault, that every shitty, selfish decision he had ever made had to led to this point. And the knights knew it too.

All they can do is pray to every deity they know the name of, that Arthur has done enough damage for Merlin to say yes. And oh, what a terrible thing to pray for.

The Druid softly strokes Merlin’s cheekbone with his thumb as the Warlock takes a deep breath, trying to calm himself. He looks up, meeting the gaze of the man opposite him before croaking:

“I... I can’t. Arthur is a good man, I have faith that he will-”

Before he can finish his sentence, the dagger is thrust up into his chest, his words stuttering to a stop and his red-rimmed eyes growing wide at the sudden, agonising pain spreading throughout his body.

Merlin is vaguely aware of the knights pulling roughly at their chains, but he pays them no mind as blood gurgles up his throat and he frowns, struggling to hear what the Druid was whispering in his ear:

“Then you have forsaken your people, and so I shall forsake you. Traitor.”

With that, Merlin is dropped roughly to the floor, dagger still imbedded in his chest as he lands on his side. Blood spills from both his mouth and the wound, eyes unfocused but heavy as the tears continue to overflow.

The knights are silently screaming, thrashing against their chains as their friend chokes, but Merlin ignores them in favour of smiling gently at the soft feeling of nothing, growing outwards from his chest.

He frowns once more, as though remembering something, and his eyes go glassy as two words escape from his mouth, barely a whisper:

“I’m... sorry...”

An apology to whom, no one knows, but with those last words his body goes completely still, the pool of blood still expanding beneath him, and his eyes unseeingly staring just to the left of The King.

No one in the room can tear their eyes from Merlin’s pale corpse, face now a mess of tears and blood.

The Druid looks down at him with an odd mix of contempt, and genuine sorrow. He had obviously waited long enough that his resentment of Arthur had bled into his feelings for his so-called saviour, but still grieved for what could have been.

The Knights look at him in horror, all understanding that they had never been lucky, they had just had Merlin. He had never asked for thanks, or recognition, or reward. He had kept them all safe, at great expense to himself, and now he was dead.

Lancelot seems the... calmest, though he still cries like the rest of them. He had, in theory, known of the pain Merlin was in, but had he known it was plaguing him to this extent... well perhaps he wouldn’t have been so loyal to Arthur.

Arthur himself stares at Merlin with nothing but terror and agonising grief. He had done this. If he had just let Merlin explain, if he had just given him five minutes, instead of bruises and nightmares and fear, then he would still be alive. 

If he hadn’t been so selfish and cruel, perhaps hundreds of people, just like Merlin, just as scared and innocent as Merlin, would also be alive. 

Merlin had spent his entire time in Camelot trying to convince Arthur that he wasn’t his father... and Arthur had gone and proven him wrong at every turn. And even then Merlin still had faith, still called him a good man.

The silencing spell still has hold over the knights, so they cry and scream and thrash soundlessly as the Druid finally rips his gaze from the body at his feet.

He steps carefully around Merlin to stand in front of Arthur. The sorrow clears from his face, leaving only contempt and rage left to be directed at the man in front of him. Arthur does not look up, keeping his tear stained face focused on the floor, even as the Druid begins to speak:

“You see what you have done, Arthur Pendragon? You think magic is the thing that corrupts, but it is not. It is you. Emrys was meant to be a saviour, a God, a guiding light to help our people to safety, but you tainted him, reduced him to nothing more than a sad, scared boy, and then reduced him further, to a corpse. My hands are clean of blood Pendragon, but yours?? Oh, yours are drenched in it.”

Arthur slowly lifts his distraught gaze to the Druid, but quickly widens his eyes at what he sees.

Merlin stands behind the Druid, eyes glowing golden, tears once more streaming down his face as he grips the handle of the dagger, still buried in his chest.

The bloodstains grow even larger as he grimaces slightly and pulls it free, before wordlessly forcing it through the Druid’s back.

The man lets out a sudden gasp, and looks down to see just the tip of the blade poking out where his heart should be. He gargles something, words that no one can make out, before Merlin pulls the dagger out again, and his body crumples to the floor.

The knights and Arthur can feel the silencing spell release them, but none of them make even a noise as they stare in shock at their tormented, but very much alive, friend.

Merlin drops the dagger from his hand and it lands with a splash in the mixing puddles of blood, before he himself falls harshly to his knees.

The others finally break out of their stupor, once again pulling towards their friend. Their cries and shouts of his name can be heard by everyone but him as he leans forward, placing his forehead against that of the lifeless Druid.

His cries grow erratic again as he whispers apology after apology, and every heart breaks even more at the sight before them.

They know why he apologises, they know why he grieves, even over a man who had tried to... had succeeded in killing him. The death of yet another of his own kind who was sick of waiting, who was rightfully angry, was not something to be celebrated.

They had thought, at the beginning of this, that they would get through whatever the Druid threw at them, they always did. But this, the brokenness of one of their dearest friends, was not something that looks fixable.

Merlin finally sits up again and he sobs louder, still deaf and blind to those around him. Lancelot has just enough time to yell at the others to cover their eyes, as a gut-wrenching scream escapes the Warlock.

They’re almost blinded, even with their eyes tightly shut and their arms thrown up. The scream is the loudest, and most anguished they’ve ever heard, and the force in which Merlin releases his magic completely eviscerates the hut they had been chained in.

Each of them is thrown violently backwards, and their chains crumble to the floor with the rest of the building as they try to find purchase on the ground. None of them are hurt too badly, and they’re grateful for the fact that even in this state, Merlin’s magic seems incapable of really causing them any damage.

The scream ends, and the knights look up to see Merlin sat in the middle of the crater he had created, staring blankly into the middle distance. Tears still stream down his face, but he doesn’t move and he makes no sound, just kneels there with his blood soaked hands on his lap, palms towards the sky.

It takes a few moments for the knights to regain their senses, but once they do, all hell breaks loose.

Gwaine immediately gets to his feet and makes a rush towards Arthur, fully intending on throttling him, screaming obscenities as he went, but Percival and Elyan jump forward, grabbing an arm each and dragging him away as he curses the King and the Sky and the Gods.

As much as Percival and Elyan were not impartial to killing Arthur right now, Merlin was the priority, and as much as he may have deserved it, Merlin would never forgive them if they hurt the King.

Arthur seems to be unaware of the attempt on his life made by one of his most trusted knights, and just stares blankly at an equally blank Merlin.

Lancelot and Leon make a bee-line for the Warlock, but stop just short of touching him, not knowing how he would react. 

Leon nods gently at Lancelot, clearly having picked up that this knight had already known at least part of the story. Lancelot returns his nod, before moving forward slowly. The body of the Druid lays untouched at Merlin’s knees, and the knight removes his cloak, laying it over him, before reaching a slow hand towards Merlin’s shoulder.

He finally makes contact after a little hesitation, whispering his name as gently and as comfortingly as he is able with tears still leaking from his eyes.

Merlin doesn’t react at all to Lancelot’s touch, not even when he takes his bloody hand, or shakes his shoulder slightly; just sits and stares and cries.

Leon gulps before reaching forward himself. He grabs the dagger from besides Merlin and tosses it behind him (he didn’t like to think about that action too much. He has no idea what state his friend is in right now, best to not have any sharp instruments within his reach when he came to.) before lifting his hand to wipe away the man’s tears.

Arthur stares upon all of this in horror from his position sprawled on the floor a few metres away.

Elyan and Percival have just about managed to calm Gwaine, and they begin making their way to Leon, Lancelot, and Merlin, but before they get even halfway there, Arthur finally speaks.

His voice breaks, and is barely audible, but everyone hears him nonetheless as he murmurs:

“I did this...”

Gwaine makes another run at him, regaining his anger, and Percival and Elyan just about manage to grab him before he commits regicide.

Lancelot and Leon look up at him sharply, but when Lancelot lowers his gaze and continues to try and rouse Merlin, Leon holds the King’s gaze, and says strongly:

“Yes. Yes you did, My Lord.”

Arthur’s face crumbles even more, and Leon glares at him with venom for a few more seconds, before giving Lancelot a soft pat on the back, and walking towards the other three.

He mumbles a few harsh things that only Gwaine can hear, who responds at first with more anger, but then resignation. The First Knight gives the man a pat on the back and nods knowingly at Elyan and Percival. No one, not even Gwaine, pretends to miss the meaning of “be ready to catch him again” in the gesture.

Arthur stays in his position on the floor as the four of them walk softly towards Merlin and Lancelot, but before they get there, everyone’s gazes are drawn to the shadow in the sky, getting closer and closer.

It moves with an alarming place, and their anger at Arthur is momentarily forgotten as he scrambles up and screams:

“DRAGON!!”

Gwaine, Elyan, Percival and Arthur rush forward to stand between the beast and the other three. They have no armour or weapons, but like hell were they just going to let it get to them.

Lancelot looks up to see the white, horse sized beast land heavily in front of The King, his eyes widen and he jumps up, rushing forward to push between the others.

Leon moves to hold a still unresponsive Merlin behind his back protectively, but frowns in confusion when Lancelot yells at Arthur (who had been about to run at the beast):

“NO! No don’t hurt her! She’s Merlin’s, don’t hurt her!”

Everyone looks at him in confusion and fear as he slowly approaches the Dragon, she had been growling lowly at first, but seemed to perk up when she saw Lancelot.

Lancelot gives her a small smile, and holds his hand out, allowing her to come to him, before quietly saying:

“I’ve never been more glad to see you, Aithusa. Merlin is over here.”

He turns back towards the others, and calmly, but forcefully says:

“Move. She needs to see him.”

Gwaine nods after a moment, trusting Lancelot, and moves out of the way. Arthur goes to argue, but Elyan and Percival roughly shove him to the side, clearing a path to Merlin and Leon for Lancelot and the new, slightly terrifying, arrival.

Leon looks up fearfully, still in front of Merlin protectively. He stares at the Dragon for a few moments, breathing deeply, before looking up at Lancelot. Lancelot gives him a weak smile, and a nod before saying quietly:

“He’s a Dragon-Lord. She can help him, it’s ok.”

Leon gulps, before nodding, and stepping out of the way. He doesn’t move too far, obviously still affected by his last encounter with a Dragon, and watches with unconcealed suspicion as Aithusa prances around Lancelot at his nod.

The others crowd closer as well, looking on in confusion, awe, suspicion, as Aithusa slowly approaches Merlin.

She lays down at his side, gently pressing her head onto Merlin’s hands, still in his lap. Her mouth opens and Leon gasps as she blows a gentle mist up into his face. Merlin’s back straightens and the knights can see his eyes come back into focus as he blinks.

They all stare with bated breath as he gulps, and begins to notice his surroundings; looking in fear at the crater around him.

Merlin is broken from his growing panic as Aithusa chirps softly from his lap, and his head whips down, only now noticing her.

The knights let out a collective breath as he smiles, very slightly and very briefly, but still; after what they had just seen him go through they would take anything. He leans his head down, and wraps his arms around the creature. She chirps once again, louder this time, as she uses her tail to push away the forgotten Druid’s corpse. 

She curls her body around Merlin protectively, and he collapses even further into the semi-embrace she’s giving him. The knights smile slightly, relieved that Merlin seems responsive, and safe, before they take slow steps towards the two of them.

She whips her head up quickly and growls at them, digging her front claws into the ground. They take in sudden breaths and stop moving, wary, but she stops growling when she looks to Lancelot.

The others stare on in shock and confusion as she tilts her head slightly, and Lancelot nods as he quietly says:

“They’re friends, it’s ok.”

The creature seems to nod, and the others follow behind Lancelot as he begins moving towards Merlin again.

He crouches down, and gives Aithusa a well-received scratch on the chin, before he gently places a hand between Merlin’s shoulder-blades.

Percival, Elyan, Gwaine, and finally Leon follow suit, sitting carefully next to the Dragon, but unlike Lancelot, they don’t touch her, or Merlin. She may seem safe and loving and on their side, but she was still a Dragon.

Arthur moves a little slower, not sure if he’s welcome (he’s not) but when he gets within five feet of the group huddled on the floor, Aithusa lifts her head and growls again.

Elyan and Percival are shocked at the sudden movement, but Gwaine smirks, and Leon nods his head approvingly (though he’s still understandably... nervous). Lancelot looks back at a shocked and still tear-stricken Arthur, and speaks. His voice is quiet, but his tone is vicious:

“They have a mental link; she sees what he sees. It might be best, Your Majesty, for you to stay away.”

He doesn’t bother to watch Arthur’s reaction; he turns back and begins carding a soft hand through Merlin’s hair. He flinches only slightly before relaxing under the soft ministrations, and Aithusa gives Lancelot an affectionate lick on the arm.

The other knights do see the way that Arthur flinches, before he gives a shaky nod and takes a few steps back. He goes to say something, but the tears in his eyes overflow, and he turns to walk away.

Gwaine’s smirk grows slightly before he drops it entirely and turns back to the others, no longer caring what Arthur got up to. He is the first of the knights, other than Lancelot, to be brave enough to reach a hand forward and stroke Aithusa gently.

Elyan and Percival hesitatingly follow his lead, and Aithusa chirps happily at the attention. Leon’s gaze follows Arthur as he walks towards the horses.

They were far away, well out of the way of Merlin’s blast, but even with the distance Leon could see they were shaken. Thankfully they had been tied to the trees, otherwise he’s certain they would have bolted.

Leon finds it only slightly surprising that he feels no sympathy for the King. There’s only so much you can forgive a man for. When Arthur finally reaches the horses and begins untacking them, he looks away, back to Aithusa and Merlin.

Everyone can tell that Camelot’s First Knight is still rather shaken at the presence of the Dragon, but when Merlin looks up slightly to see him still sat there, unwilling to leave him, his heart swells a little.

Leon meets his gaze and gulps, but returns Merlin’s shaky smile.

The other knights smile as well, glad that Merlin was feeling at least a little better, and Percival speaks quietly, not wanting to spook him (or the Dragon):

“Hey, there’s our lucky charm.”

The other knights give him questioning looks but Merlin just chuckles slightly, before sitting up properly, and focusing his attention on running his fingers over Aithusa’s scales, picking out grass and mud.

Percival looks indignant before replying, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world:

“What? You honestly thought that tree branches only fell if there was a fight happening, and then only fell on the enemies?? The rock-falls? The fires even when it was pouring with rain?? The miraculous solutions to end-of-the-world type problems?? Come on, guys.”

The others look taken aback at that, but Lancelot just smiles knowingly. They all look to Merlin, who has managed to wipe the blood from his face with his sleeve, and he just shrugs slightly.

The rest of them, bar Leon, let out small huffs of laughter, and continue to stroke Aithusa, knowing that Merlin almost certainly isn’t ready for an actual conversation yet.

Merlin looks at Leon’s pale form assessingly, before a look of realisation crosses his face. The knight is tense, and staring at Aithusa’s sharp teeth with worry, but his gaze is quickly drawn to Merlin when he reaches a shaky hand towards him.

Merlin gives him an understanding smile, and crooks his fingers, encouraging the curly-haired knight to take his hand. Leon does so, and his breath hitches as Merlin lowers their intertwined hand to rest on the top of Aithusa’s head.

Leon lets out a slow breath as he feels Elyan’s supportive hand on his back, but relaxes fully when he sees the sparkle in Merlin’s eyes. Anything to make their Warlock happy in this moment. And forever, probably.

Gwaine looks at Leon out of the corner of his eye, and says lowly:

“I’m fairly certain I’m going to try and kill him if I look at him again, so what’s the King up to?”

Merlin tenses slightly, but Leon squeezes his hand and he relaxes again. Lancelot raises and eyebrow and before Leon can reply, he says:

“What, no princess?”

Gwaine narrows his eyes before gruffly saying:

“Princess was an affectionate nickname, and I’m not feeling all that affectionate towards him right now.”

The others nod knowingly, turning their attention back to Merlin and Aithusa. Leon leaves his hand in Merlin’s, but looks at Gwaine before saying lowly:

“He went to deal with the horses. Now we know we no longer need a quick get-away, they need untacking and feeding and watering. They were pretty spooked by... they were pretty spooked.”

Leon looks back at Merlin when his hand gets squeezed, to see him frowning slightly. Leon catches his eye and gives him a small smile, but Merlin just gets teary-eyed again, before sniffing and muttering:

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to I just... I’m sorry.”

Only a single tear has time to fall before Lancelot has his hand on Merlin’s shoulder again (comfortingly), and Elyan has his hand on Gwaine’s shoulder (forcefully). Leon shakes his head softly, and responds in a gentle voice:

“You don’t have anything to apologise for Merlin, we are the ones who should be sorry, for not being able to protect you.”

Merlin’s frown deepens, and he goes to retort, but Gwaine beats him to it, obviously trying to keep the anger out of his voice:

“From the so-called Druid and from him. We should have done better.”

Leon can feel Merlin’s hand begin to shake, so he squeezes it once more as Merlin shakes his head and speaks, his voice sounding stronger already:

“It’s not his fault. He was just shaken and scared and I should have-”

Gwaine clenches his jaw, struggling to keep control of his rage, but Elyan grips his shoulder tighter in warning, and replies in his stead, interrupting Merlin:

“There’s no excuse Merlin. All of us have been attacked by magic, but equally, all of us have been attacked by swords. I mean look at Leon, giving Dragons a second chance after what happened. I would perhaps understand brief anger, but there is no way to justify laying his hands on you in such a way that leaves bruises, and certainly no justification for putting a blade to your throat.”

Merlin frowns, and looks like he wants to argue, but once again, a knight beats him to it, Lancelot this time:

“No, Merls. We know how much he means to you. But what he did was wrong, there’s no rationalisation. We all know that you’ve already forgiven him, and that’s why we can’t yet. Probably not for a while.”

Merlin sighs, looking pained, and Leon uses his other hand to tilt his chin up:

“Not to say that we won’t ever forgive him. But someone has to be angry at him for what he’s done, and Lord knows you aren’t gonna do it. Consider us your stand-ins.”

Merlin smiles slightly, and Leon considers that a win, returning the smile and nodding slightly to himself, before looking back down at the Dragon, now seemingly asleep, and purring, on Merlin’s lap.

Elyan releases the death grip on Gwaine’s shoulder, when the now much calmer knight, with a smile on his face, says:

“So... you have a Dragon??”

Merlin chuckles fondly, before looking to him and saying quietly:

“Yeah. Her name is Aithusa. I’m surprised she came alone, Kilgharrah usually doesn’t like it when she runs off.”

Lancelot winces slightly as the other knights look shocked, before Percival says:

“Kil-what-now? There’s another one??”

Merlin grimaces slightly, before looking to Leon worriedly and tightening the grip on his hand:

“Uhh... yeah. Kilgharrah is the name of the Dragon that... attacked Camelot a few years ago.-”

Leon straightens his back and gulps, but doesn’t remove his hand from Merlin’s, nodding at him to continue:

“-I didn’t have control over him until right at the end. I told him to leave and never come back, unless I called him-”

Lancelot makes a noise of realisation as he nods, and interrupts Merlin:

“That’s probably why Aithusa came alone. You didn’t call for her, and technically we’re still within Camelot’s borders. He couldn’t come even if he wanted to. Poor sod is probably clomping around at the edge of the border freaking out.”

Merlin looks to Lancelot and nods, satisfied to feel Leon relax a bit, before looking back to the First Knight apologetically:

“-He does feel really bad at that. He just wanted to get back at Uther for the whole... genocide thing I guess. But that’s no excuse. I just didn’t want to be the one to be responsible for killing the last Dragon, even if Kilgharrah personally might’ve deserved it at the time. That was all before Aithusa came along.”

Everyone nods in understanding, before focussing their attention back on Aithusa. She really was like a giant puppy, even if they had to be wary to avoid her claws as she twitched in her sleep.

Merlin sighs, looking forlorn once again as he realises how exhausted he is, knowing that they’re going to have to get up and make camp at some point. 

He can cope with an awkward, tense silence between him and Arthur easily enough, that’s what the last few weeks had consisted of. But an awkward and tense silence between everyone? Elyan and Percival inwardly fuming? Gwaine outwardly fuming? Leon and Lancelot being all protective? He’s not sure he can deal with that.

At Merlin’s sigh, Lancelot tilts his head to catch his eye. His brow creases as he says softly:

“What is it, Merls?”

Merlin looks up, still squeezing Leon’s hand, before quietly replying:

“Nothing, I’m just tired. We have to re-make camp at some point and I’m not sure if I can deal with everyone being so...”

He waves his free hand around loosely, and Lancelot huffs out a laugh, before kicking Gwaine, getting everyone’s attention:

“We have to go make camp. But Merlin is exhausted, and doesn’t want to deal with any of this shit tonight, so we’re all going to have to play nice for the time being.”

Gwaine growls, and quickly retorts:

“Like hell am I gonna treat him with-”

Lancelot kicks him again, harder this time, and Elyan replaces the harsh hand on his shoulder before forcefully saying:

“Right now, it doesn’t matter what Arthur deserves. Merlin needs peace and quiet, and that’s what we’re going to give him.”

Gwaine grumbles, but begrudgingly nods, and Merlin gives him a grateful smile. 

The knights all stand up, and Merlin shakes Aithusa awake, giving a small chuckle when she stretches like a cat.

Once she takes her weight off of his lap, Merlin follows the knights to stand, almost falling over at the weakness in his legs. Leon and Lancelot catch an arm each, steadying him as he shuts his eyes tightly, willing the dizziness away.

He feels a hand wipe the hair from his forehead, and opens his eyes slowly to see Percival checking him over with an assessing gaze:

“I’m fine, just tired, a little dizzy.”

Lancelot nods in understanding, humming slightly:

“Hmm. I’m not surprised, you haven’t done anything this big in a while, and I doubt you’ve slept well in the last few weeks.”

Merlin gives him a sheepish look as he shakes his head, but it’s Elyan’s questioning gaze that Lancelot responds to:

“I found out by accident when I first met him. Our Warlock isn’t very good at keeping secrets.”

He says it with a small smirk as he looks back down to Merlin, who’s looking indignant:

“Hey! I managed to keep everyone else from finding out.”

Gwaine looks guilty as he raises his arm quietly:

“Actually uh... I knew. I mean not about the whole Emrys, prophecy thing. But the magic stuff, yeah.”

Merlin looks at him, shocked. The other knights share his expression for just a moment before they laugh at the look on Merlin’s face:

“How?!”

Gwaine puts his arm down and laughs again:

“Mate... we met in the middle of a tavern fight, in which shit started literally flying about the moment you joined in.-”

He shrugged, before casually continuing:

“-I figured you would tell me when you wanted to. Until then, it wasn’t my secret to know. You also have me to thank for backing you up every time The Prick asked if I saw you at the tavern.”

Merlin laughed and nodded his thanks, before looking over to where said Prick was setting up camp, a few metres beyond the edge of the crater.

His face fell slightly and the others follow his gaze, tensing slightly in anger when they saw what he was looking at. Merlin takes his arms from Leon and Lancelot, finally feeling steady on his feet, before quietly saying:

“Come on, we might as well get this over with. I’m starving, and tired, and Aithusa will get bored if we don’t start entertaining her.”

Everyone turns around to see Aithusa (now she was sure that her Lord was ok), prancing about in the crater; chasing birds and digging holes.

Merlin raises an eyebrow and everyone else chuckles slightly. Gwaine pushes Lancelot out of the way and takes Merlin’s hand, beginning to walk determinedly towards camp. Everyone catches up quickly, Leon taking Merlin’s other hand when the man had reached out to grab his cape.

Gwaine looks down at Merlin, seeing how nervous he is, and says:

“So. How long until she’s big enough to be ridden? I want you to take me flying, Merlin.”

Merlin chuckles, and looks back to see Aithusa happily trailing them:

“Not for a while. Dragons grow slow, so it’ll be another few years at least. Plus she’s got some issues with bone growth that we’re still trying to fix. She’ll be fine in the long run, but her development is taking a lot longer than normal. She still can’t speak.”

Everyone stops at that, and Merlin’s arms get yanked back when he continued walking. He turns to see Leon giving him an incredulous look:

“Dragons can speak?!”

Merlin tilts his head in confusion, before laughing and tugging them forwards again:

“Yeah. I forget that Uther basically erased all knowledge on Dragons, but they’re just as intelligent as we are. Kilgharrah would like to think that they’re more intelligent, but he’s always been a cryptic, egotistical bastard.-”

The others follow his pace and nod, but the mood darkens as they almost reach the camp. Merlin continues faintly, but quickly:

“I’ll tell you everything I know when... when we get back.”

Leon squeezes his hand, knowing that he was about to say “if”, assuring him that “when” is the right word.

Arthur looks up at the group and gulps from his place next to the fire. He straightens up, the anxiety showing clearly on his face, but before anyone can say anything, Aithusa jumps in between him.

He falls back at the sudden movement and she begins to growl; he widens his eyes as she stalks slowly towards him.

Gwaine smirks again, the others managing to keep their faces blank, but Merlin looks shocked, before he jumps forward and puts a hand on the Dragon’s back:

“Aithusa no. He’s a... friend. It’s ok, he’s-”

Arthur jumps to his feet and interrupts him:

“No, no it’s fine. I’ll... go... sit over there.”

He gestures behind him, and walks quickly away from the fire, sitting just within the fire’s light, the evening dimming around them.

Aithusa tilts her head, snaps her jaws at him once more before completely changing disposition. She begins bouncing around the fire, chirping happily and playfully trying to catch floating embers in her claws.

Merlin smiles slightly and the other knights (bar Gwaine, who is glaring very pointedly at Arthur) chuckle at her antics, before they all sit in a semi circle on the opposite side of the fire to Arthur, Merlin in the middle.

The Warlock is once again wedged protectively between Leon and Gwaine, and he fiddles softly with Leon’s cape in his lap as he stares fondly at Aithusa.

Elyan moves to the packs, unloading food and water and cooking pots. Merlin gets up to help, but Gwaine pulls him back down by the hand and holds on firmly as he says:

“You’ve been through enough. We can put up with Elyan’s shitty cooking for a couple nights.”

Merlin tries to pull away with a “But I can-” but Leon grabs his other hand, holding him down and interrupting:

“Absolutely not. You said yourself that you’re tired. If Elyan needs help, he can ask one of us.”

Merlin huffs sulkily and Leon laughs, stroking the back of his hand protectively.

Leon had known Merlin just as long as Arthur had, and whilst they had virtually nothing to do with each other the first few years, they were still friendly acquaintances, even then. Leon knew full well that it was Merlin who would have a hot meal left in his room after a late patrol, and Merlin always appreciated how Leon kept as many weapons in the armoury in as good nick as possible, so Merlin didn’t have to deal with it.

Besides, even before they knew each other’s names, Leon always found Merlin’s reactions to Arthur’s stupidity funny. He could hardly say it out loud, being the Perfect Knight and all, but he always thought it was a good thing that Arthur had someone at his side keeping him humble, and calling him out in ways no one else would.

Of course they had gotten much closer over the years, as did all of the knights, thanks to Merlin. Currently, Leon was feeling just a tinge of regret at being so grateful for Merlin’s presence at Arthur’s side; he had never really thought about how difficult being that man’s babysitter would be, especially now he knew Merlin had magic. And some sort of destiny.

Time passes fairly quickly whilst Elyan cooks, the others taking to heart what Lancelot had said and trying to keep a quiet, but easy conversation going.

They ask Merlin various questions about Aithusa, Kilgharrah, the Druids, the weird name that he had been called. He answered them all easily enough, but they notice the way he hesitates when they ask about his magic specifically or the prophecies, so they steer clear of those topics.

They’ll definitely want to know the whole story eventually, and they’re practically buzzing with desperation to ask Merlin to show them something magical, but they know that now is not the time.

Dinner is finally served, and despite Gwaine’s statement, it wasn’t actually that bad. Mainly because every time Elyan went to add something to the pot, he would look back desperately at Merlin, and took into account the shakes and nods of his head with a grateful smile.

He did struggle to cover the scowl on his face when he delivered Arthur’s bowl to him, replying to The King’s quiet “thank you, Elyan” with an even quieter “don’t mention it” .

Dinner was eaten quickly and in silence. They hadn’t been unconscious for long, and hour or two at most, but they had all worked up an understandable appetite, Merlin especially. He would never ask for seconds, but knowing that, Elyan gave him an extra big serving without a word.

They entertained themselves after dinner by throwing the last scraps of meat to Aithusa, watching her jump and flip and fly about the camp. Merlin had objected at first, but gave in when he saw the small grin on Leon’s face, and heard the way the others were laughing. The City was only a few days ride away, they could always hunt on the way back.

It didn’t take long for her to tire out and curl up at Merlin’s feet to sleep. Like Merlin had mentioned, Aithusa was developing slowly, and she normally couldn’t fly very far; it must’ve taken a huge amount of energy and effort for her to get all the way here. But like the Knights, she was very protective, and there was no way she could not check on her Lord, after she and Kilgharrah had felt the anguish he was in.

As Kilgharrah once again crosses Merlin’s mind, he sighs, and makes mental note to call him in the morning, when he had more energy.

Merlin is distracted from his thoughts when the camp goes silent all of a sudden, and Gwaine reaches over to squeeze his hand. He looks up in worry, to see that Arthur had stood, and walked a little closer, though he made sure to stay the other side of the fire.

Merlin tenses slightly. He tries not to let it show, but he can knows that he failed when he feels Leon’s hand firmly in the middle of his back. Hidden from the others, but a silent reassurance.

Arthur gulps, obviously nervous, but he meets Merlin’s gaze, flinching at the slight fear in his eyes:

“Merlin, I know nothing I say will-”

He’s interrupted by Gwaine growling and standing suddenly, stepping in front of Merlin protectively, but it’s Lancelot’s harsh words that cut him off fully:

“Not tonight, Arthur. We’re all tired and angry so just... not tonight.”

Arthur clenches his jaw, and blinks away tears before nodding:

“Yes, I... I understand.”

With that, he sniffles slightly before taking a step back. He looks to the floor as he mumbles something about checking the perimeter, before slowly walking away from the camp, into the night.

Merlin lets out a breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding, and relaxes slightly as Leon runs his hand over his back. Gwaine stares after Arthur for a few moments, deliberating on whether or not to follow him (and presumably, kick his ass). Merlin reaching up to take his hand and pull him back down makes his mind up, and he settles back into his seat, Merlin’s small hand clasped between his two larger ones.

Percival speaking up breaks the tense silence:

“It’s late and Lance is right, we’re all tired. If we want to make quick work of the journey home, and have time to hunt, then we should get some sleep.”

Murmurs of agreement float up around the group, and Gwaine, voice still tense and angry, says:

“I’ll take first-”

But he’s quickly interrupted by Elyan, softly laughing:

“Absolutely not, Gwaine. If you’re left alone we’ll all wake to find the King dead in the morning.”

Gwaine raises a challenging eyebrow, not denying anything, and Elyan huffs, Percival muttering:

“Fine. But I’m taking it with you so you don’t get a chance to smother him.”

Gwaine gives a sarcastic looking smile, before ruffling Merlin’s hair fondly and walking towards the fire. He adds another log, grabs his bedroll, and settles down against a tree, Percival sitting at his side.

Everyone else gathers their rolls, and whilst normally they spread out, they all seem rather desperate to stay as close to Merlin as possible.

Normally he would complain, they all snore, and Merlin is definitely expecting nightmares tonight, but he can’t find it in himself to send them away, and to be perfectly honest, he's certain that they would just move back the moment he closed his eyes anyway.

The Warlock finds himself tucked under Lancelot’s arm, with Leon a respectful distance away on his other side, though still within arm’s reach. Elyan settles somewhere below his feet, and for the first time in weeks, Merlin finds himself fully relaxed. 

Aithusa sleepily moves from her spot by Merlin’s feet, to curl up with Gwaine and Percival, and Merlin smiles at the thought that she not only trusts his friends in general, but trusts them enough to leave Merlin in their care. Dragons are protective and possessive creatures, and that trust speaks volumes.

Merlin is still a little miserable, and he almost resents himself for still being scared of Arthur despite his obvious regret, but... with all that happened... well. You can’t really blame him.

He’s got a gaggle of very protective knights around him, one of which he can vaguely hear trying to persuade another to commit regicide when no one was looking.

He has time to huff out a small laugh as Lancelot pulls him closer, before he drifts off; much quicker than he thought he would. He was comforted by the warmth behind him, the presence at his feet, the guardians watching over him, and the hand reaching towards him in the dark, just about close enough to lay fingers over Merlin’s heartbeat.

No nightmares plague him that night, and he doesn’t even wake to the warning growls sent Arthur’s way when he eventually returned to camp.

The next few days, hell, the next few months would probably be difficult, but he finds himself not as anxious now he knows he won’t have to face it alone.

~

THE END

I don’t think I’ll write a part two to this, but if someone wants to extend it, feel free, same as normal: credit and tag me :)

I’ve had the whole speech written out in full in my phone notes for like two months, but only recently got round to actually turning it into anything. I hope ya’ll enjoyed it!! I wanted to write something hella angsty so....

I’m fairly certain whatever I write next will be the dead opposite of this (FLUFF fluff) but honestly who knows.

Let me know if there’s anything specific you want my thoughts on :)

[officialscaramouche]

Three is company— a gift for @ambers-glider ‘s fic here! I told y’all I’d get to writing today!!!!

EDIT: Tomo is the friend (Tomo is short for tomodachi which is friend in japanese)

pairing: Kazuha x Gorou x reader

tw: a couple curse words

wc: 2,178

You squatted around the fire with your colleagues, eating your food straight from the can. “[Y/N]!” You hear your squad leader call out from his tent. You turn to look at what he wanted and note him standing with a messenger from the base of operations you just left. He waved what looked like a white flag. It piqued your interest, you had to admit, stretching out your legs with your can in hand.

“Yes, sir!” You salute, slapping your ankles together in form.

Your squad leader extended his hand, exchanging an open letter with you. “A letter. From the resistance,” he says simply. “From the second in command himself.”

It didn’t take the second sentence for you to know who it was. Of course, Kokomi was the leader of your resistance— all of you worked for her. But her second in command was none other than the tricky Gorou, known for his sly and mischievous ploys. “Thank you, sir,” you salute once more before dipping to tear into the letter.

It sucked that none of your mail could go through unopened, but it made sense considering that any one of you could be shogunate spies. It was a small price to pay for your cause, even if the letter was a bit personal.

[Y/N], it read. I hope this letter finds you well. After yours and Kazuha’s leave, I dove into my work to try and distract myself from the aching in my heart. Seeing many of my comrades fall in the recent ambush made me long for you more. I cannot ignore it much longer, so I have written to both you and dearest Kazuha in hopes that we may once again be reunited. We should all be returning to base in two weeks for the monthly review. Please find me there. I look forward to seeing you. Gorou.

“Oh?” A voice came behind you. “Everyone wondered what was going on between you and the shiba boy. I guess this proves true?”

You pulled the letter to your chest, scowling at the man who sat beside you. “Do you need something, sir? Why is my business important to you?”

He smiled, throwing an arm around you. “Damn, I was just curious!” You shook his arm off of you and turned your back to him. “I’m sorry that we have to go through your letters. But I’m sure you understand.”

You frowned as your eyes scanned the letter again. “I do,” you sigh. Bringing the letter to your nose and breathing in the scent. It smelled like otogi wood. It smelled like him. “But it does suck that everyone in command knows about my affairs.”

“What happened? If you don’t mind my asking.”

You peer over your shoulder and glare. “I do mind you asking.” You hissed.

The two weeks went by painfully slow. Your team was sent to do reconnaissance once more after the ambush that Gorou mentioned in his letter. While it wasn’t your team that was tasked with scouting that area prior to his arrival, it was your command team that got in trouble for it. Everyone was expected to do seamless work and the weight was on your team’s shoulders.

You double checked your field of observation; replacing your traps, checking the knots, and notating all of your activities. Signing off and turning in your report, you packed all of your equipment and belongings and darted out of the camp.

It was good to finally be back on base. All you wanted to do was get into your room and hop into the shower. You weren’t about to meet your exes sweaty and covered in dirt. You step inside and stop at the front desk. “Welcome back [Y/N],” the receptionist greets. “What number did you reserve?”

“Twenty three,” you slide over the key, lugging your duffel bag onto the table. You unzip the bag and fish for your personal belongings as the receptionist grabs your locker key. “I’m returning the reconnaissance pack and some gear.”

The receptionist scratches out your name on the clipboard and pulls the bag across the desk. “I heard you’re meeting with Master Gorou and Lord Kazuha.”

You slap your forehead with a groan. “Ugh, does everyone know?”

“Not everyone. I heard from Master Gorou himself. He told me to tell you he’d be in his office.”

“He’s here already?”

“Since seven this morning. He seemed rather eager to meet you.” The receptionist hands you the forms you signed to borrow the equipment. “Sign and date, please.”

You take the pen off the desk and begin to scribble on the document when the door slides open with a ding. “Oh, [Y/N],” a calm and melodious voice says. “What great timing!”

You shudder at the voice, turning slowly to confirm your suspicions. “O-Oh, hi Lord Kazuha…I just got back.”

The samurai walks up and places a hand on the small of your back. “Is Gorou here yet?”

“Yes,” the receptionist answers, taking the clipboard back from you. “He should be waiting in his office.”

“Great,” Kazuha smiles, grabbing your belongings off the desk and ushering you away with him. “Let’s go, shall we?”

You twiddle your fingers nervously as you walk. “I haven’t showered yet, my lord.”

“Oh that’s alright. I haven’t either.”

That wasn’t the point, you thought, reaching the elevator. “Well, I was hoping I could stop at my room and shower.”

Kazuha pushed one of the buttons on the elevator panel. “We’re already here, though.” You scratch your head and frown. “It’s okay,” he continues. “Master Gorou won’t mind.”

“Why do you smell like incontinence?”

You bury your face in your palms as you listen to Gorou and Kazuha speak. “Because I’ve been hiding in the trenches,” Kazuha laughs, opening his arms for a hug.

“You know I have a strong sense of smell,” Gorou whined as he embraced the samurai. “And [Y/N],” you look from between your fingers and notice the warm smile and faint blush on Gorou’s face. “It’s so good to see you too.”

The shiba boy walks up to you and pulls you into a tight embrace, his face nuzzled into your neck. “You’re stinky too.”

“Hey!” You shout, your hands reaching to wrap around him. “Kazuha didn’t want to stop at my room.”

Gorou pulls back and gazes into your eyes, his hand coming to cup your cheek. “That’s okay. I’ve been waiting around anxiously for both of you. Come,” he gestured, extending his arm out. “Please sit with me. I’ve got cookies and tea.”

Kazuha tucked his hands into his sleeves and grinned. He knelt down on the tatami pillow, sitting down on his knees and reaching for a cookie. You followed suit next to him, sitting back on your heels and taking the teacup from Gorou after he poured some tea. It was nice and light until Kazuha took a sip from his cup. “Why did you ask us to come here?” He said with a smile.

You stiffened at the question, your hair standing on end at the suddenly uncomfortable mood. You thought it was obvious why he arranged this meeting, but you guess that Kazuha wanted to hear it from his own mouth.

Gorou rubbed the back of his neck. “I mostly wanted to apologize,” he explained. “Whether or not you accept my apology is not my concern. But I do hope that we can agree to reconcile.”

“It’s very uncomfortable walking around after my superiors have gone through my mail,” Kazuha continued, closing his eyes as he sipped on his tea. “You could’ve at least been a bit more subtle with the delivery.”

“That was part of the problem, though.” The two of you watched and listened closely as Gorou spoke. When the three of you parted ways, it wasn’t on the best of terms. Being in each other’s presence was awkward enough as a result, but hearing him explain his side wasn't something that either you or Kazuha cared to understand. “Keeping both you and [Y/N] a secret was a problem to me. I understood that it would become a hindrance if people knew, but I couldn’t even hold your hand in public.”

Kazuha was silent as he spoke. Gorou and Kazuha had been a thing before you were introduced. But from the beginning you felt that things were tense between them. Being an outsider, the problem was more obvious than it was to them but it was something you felt they needed to work out. That’s why you left.

“And while it was okay for a bit,” Gorou continued, looking away as his words began to choke in his throat. “It was painful to love someone who didn’t even want to be called my ‘boyfriend.’ I don’t think you realize how embarrassing it is to say ‘oh, Kazuha’s my not-boyfriend because he doesn’t want to be tied down by titles.’ I understand that you don’t want a serious relationship but it felt like you didn’t care.”

“I was grieving,” Kazuha kind of snapped, his fingers curled into a fist. “Do you not understand that? My real boyfriend killed himself!”

“Am I not real to you?! Am I just your rebound to fuck and forget?! We are all grieving, Kazuha! We all loved Tomo! What about [Y/N], huh?! Is [Y/N] not real to you either?!”

Kazuha slammed his fist on the table. “Neither of you give a shit! Neither of you care about how I feel!”

Gorou stood on his feet, looking down at the man across from him. “Who was the person that begged you to stay, huh?! Throwing yourself into battle at every chance you got and then turning your back on me!! How dare you say I don’t give a shit!”

The three of you sat in uncomfortable silence after both men refused to say anything else. All you did was sit there and listen, not really feeling as if your opinion mattered. You weren’t in the relationship for very long anyway, why would you have anything to say?

Kazuha looked away from the both of you, while Gorou’s eyes focused on him. You sat with your hands in your lap, waiting for someone to say something. “What do you think, [Y/N]?” Kazuha said finally, not looking at you.

“Me?” You pointed to yourself. “Does it matter?”

“Of course it matters,” Gorou said, sitting back down and reaching for your hands. “You were a part of the relationship too.”

“I’m not sure though…it didn’t feel like I was.” Kazuha looked over his shoulder, his cheeks wet from tears he had been hiding. “I wasn’t even a part of the conversation. You left—” you said, pointing to Kazuha. “—and you ignored me.” Then pointing to Gorou.

You crossed your arms with a huff. “Kazuha didn’t even try to talk it out, and Gorou wasn’t patient enough. Neither of you had any care about how I felt. I don’t even think you guys care now! All you want is for me to agree with you and argue with the other! But you’re both wrong! We all loved Tomo, Kazuha. It’s not fair that you shut all of us out. And it’s also not fair to Kazuha to try and force him to get over it so quickly! Everyone grieves at different paces. Just because you’re more used to your friends dying doesn’t mean he has to!”

They were both silent again as your words soaked in. You were right, of course. Gorou thought about the things he said and how he could’ve done it differently. How he had pushed Kazuha away instead of helping. And Kazuha thought about how selfish he was being. He wasn’t Tomo’s only friend and he wasn’t the only one who cared about him.

Then the silence was broken. “I’m sorry.”

Both of the men turned to look at you with confused expressions. “Why are you sorry?” Kazuha asked, grabbing your hands and pulling you close to him. “It’s not your fault.”

Gorou came around and joined in the hug, wrapping his arms around both of you. “Yeah, [Y/N] it’s not your fault. We’re the ones who fucked up.”

“Yeah,” Kazuha pulled back, wiping his face with the back of his hand. “I’m the one who should apologize.”

“No,” Gorou shook his finger. “I said I was going to apologize first.”

“Well too bad!” Kazuha shoved a finger into Gorou’s chest. “I said it first!”

Gorou laughed, pinching Kazuha’s cheek. “No, [Y/N] said it first!”

You pushed them away from you and chuckled. “Now that you’re both feeling better, I was going to say ‘I’m sorry is what you should say to each other.’”

Kazuha tucked your hair behind your ear with a soft expression, before Gorou swooped in and peppered your cheeks with kisses. “Promise you’ll work on it?” You asked.

Gorou and Kazuha looked at each other lovingly, leaning in to kiss for the first time in a long time. “We promise.” They said at the same time.

[bxcketbarnes]

Off to War

Pairing: 40's!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Words: 3000+

Author's Note: I finally got an idea for 40's Bucky and I'm so happy with how this came out. This man is plaguing my brain and I'm so okay with it. I hope you guys enjoy and let me know what you think. 🥰

"I wish you didn't have to leave," you whisper to the tall brunette, your eyes glued to Bucky's hand that's resting on your lap.

Bucky hums in response and grabs your hand, lacing your fingers together before gently squeezing. "I wish I didn't have to leave either. I never wanted this life," he mumbles and you frown as your thumb gently strokes the back of his hand. "I mean, what are you and Steve going to do without me? I won't be here to protect you."

Your heart flutters at his words, always loving the caring side of him. A side only you and Steve knew about. Bucky's a bit of a player, always has been since he was in high school. He's the most gorgeous man you've ever seen, and you happen to be hopelessly in love with him.

"Steve and I can try to take care of ourselves. My older brother has been teaching me how to defend myself. I've got some skill now," you wink and earn a chuckle from the twenty-six-year-old.

"Yeah, but the thing is you shouldn't have to. You're a woman for God's sake. No man should be treating you the way you've been treated," Bucky argues and you nod your head slightly, agreeing with him. "If I could take you with me, I would. I'd keep you safe, doll."

Your cheeks flush at the compliments pouring from his lips, looking away from the brunette. "Bucky…" you trail off and your eyes meet his blue ones, seeing an emotion you've hardly seen in them before.

"Can I just-" he cuts himself off to lean in closer, feeling his nose brush against yours. "Just this once."

You clear your throat as Bucky moves his hand down your sides and rests on your hips. Your eyes flutter shut as you feel his lips grazing against yours, your breath catching in your throat. "Kiss me," you whisper and Bucky immediately captures your lips with his.

You're wrapping your arms around his neck, running your hands through his hair as you kiss him back feverishly. Butterflies swirl around your stomach as Bucky pushes you back, laying you against the cushions of your couch.

He hovers over you as his fingertips graze along the length of your neck. Bucky pulls away from you, both of you breathing heavily as your faces are still close. "Now, I definitely don't want to leave," Bucky sighs while resting his forehead against yours.

Your heart pounds against your chest and hums in reply, combing your fingers through his hair. "That's- Jesus," you stumble over your words, causing your best friend to laugh.

"Cat got your tongue, doll?" He smirks and you roll your eyes playfully as Bucky sits back up.

Before you can say anything your front door opens, both of you glancing towards it to see Steve walking into the place. His blue eyes dance between you and Bucky, an inquisitive look on his face.

"Everything okay?" Steve asks while moving to sit in one of the recliners. You and Bucky nod your head simultaneously, eyes glancing at one another's for a quick second.

"Yeah, just gonna miss you guys," Bucky states as his hand squeezes yours.

-

You couldn't believe the Peggy Carter wants to recruit you for her medic team. You've heard a lot about her through your letters from Steve and from various people you've talked to on the streets of Brooklyn.

One thing you wish is for Bucky to send you something… literally anything. You haven't heard from him in months and you're not going to lie- you're worried about him.

So, here you are, on the frontlines in Germany. You're nervous about being this close to the war, but you'd do almost anything to help your country out. Plus, Peggy mentioned that Steve's going to be here as well.

You jump at the sound of gunfire in the distance, releasing a deep breath as Peggy leads you towards the tent you'll be staying in. "Nervous, Miss L/N?" She asks you and you let out a small chuckle.

"Is it obvious?" You laugh while running a hand through your hair.

Peggy gives you a soft smile and lays a hand on your shoulder. "Don't fret. This is one of the safest camps along the frontlines," she reassures you and you nod your head in response. "So, have you known Steve for long?"

"Oh, since middle school. It's where I met both him and Bucky," you inform her with a smile and her face falls a bit. You notice the look on her face and furrow your eyebrows. "What is it?"

"You should probably know about James," she uses his first name and your heart drops. You swallow the lump in your throat as you nod your head for her to continue. "He was captured by the Nazis about a month ago."

All the air leaves your body, leaving you gasping for breath at the news. You place a hand on her shoulder to keep your body from collapsing. "D-Does Steve know?" You ask in a whisper and Peggy nods in reply. "Is he here now?"

"Yeah, I'll tell him where to find you," she mentions while leading you into the tent you're staying in. Once Peggy leaves your tent you break down, falling to your knees as tears pool in your eyes.

The memory of yours and Bucky's kiss flash through your mind, your heart clenching at the thought of him dead. Your lip trembles and you fully sit on the ground, leaning against your cot before hugging your knees.

He could still be alive… right? You think to yourself as a quiet knock is heard right outside your tent. "Y/N?" Steve's voice softly calls out and you pick your head up.

"Come in," you whisper loud enough for him to hear. A short gasp leaves your lips as Steve walks into your tent. "Steve?"

A chuckle leaves his lips and the blonde nods his head. "It's me, Y/N," he grins and you slowly stand up. "You must have been living under a rock. I've been like this for a few months."

"Wh-What happened? How?" You ask in astonishment while walking closer to him.

You suddenly wrap your arms around his waist, your heart heavy as you can feel the tears coming back. "Super soldier serum. I was the test subject. You knew how much I wanted to help," he explains and you nod your head. "Listen, about Bucky-"

"Is he alive?" You ask, cutting him off and Steve sighs. You rest your forehead against his chest as sobs escape your lips, the image of seeing his dead body plaguing your mind. "I-I never got to tell him about my feelings."

Steve's brows furrow together and rest his hands on your shoulders, pushing you back a bit. "What feelings?" He questions and you sigh while wiping the tears from your face.

"I'm in love with James Buchanan Barnes," you tell him and his blue eyes widen, shock written across his face.

"Since when?!" Steve asks and you let out a chuckle, scratching the back of your neck.

"Probably since high school," you inform him and you're amused that Steve never figured it out, especially since he was around you a lot. You move to sit on your cot, inviting him to sit next to you and he does. "You know the night before Bucky left?"

Steve nods his head, resting his hands on his thighs. "Yeah, you and Bucky were acting strange when I finally made it to your place…" he trails off and you snort, giving him a look. "No way. You two did something?"

A laugh leaves your lips as you lean your chin against the palm of your hand, sighing heavily. "To be fair, we only kissed," you explain to him, gazing at the super-soldier for a few seconds, "but, it was the best kiss I've ever had."

Steve rests a hand on your upper back, rubbing gently. "I'm going to find him. I'm taking our men out tomorrow to find him and everyone else they captured. I'm bringing him home," he tells you, and your eyes well up with tears, nodding your head to what he's saying.

-

"Medic! We've got wounded," someone shouts and your head snaps up before scurrying out of your cot.

You throw on your medic jacket and rush out of your tent, running straight to the med-tent. "Where are they?" You ask one of the other nurses, seeing the empty spaces in front of you.

"Guys from the 107th are bringing them in now," she informs you and you nod your head.

The flap of your tent opens up and about nine people hobble their way inside. You order the men holding them up to place the wounded on the cots as you start examining the one closest to you.

It doesn't take you long to patch the men up and thankfully there's not that much damage on them either. They all thank you and you grin to yourself, absorbing the validation. "Just doing my part," you tell them while patting the shoulder of the last man you attend to.

Steve walks into the tent and your eyes dance towards him. "There's something you need to see," he mumbles, and your heart pounds against your chest.

"I can't if he's…" you trail off and Steve shakes his head. A smile comes to the blonde's lips and you let out a small sob, stumbling towards him. "He's- he's alive?!"

"C'mon," he motions for you to follow and you glance towards the nurse, a pleading look in your eyes.

The brunette laughs and nods her head. "Go see whoever it is you need to see," she grins and you thank you quietly before running after Steve.

You fiddle with your fingers as your friend leads you towards Bucky’s tent. "Does he know I'm here?" You ask him and Steve shakes his head.

A deep breath leaves your lips as he stops you from going in. You look up at the six-foot man and he tells you to wait a minute. You nod your head and watch as Steve walks into the tent, hearing him tell Bucky that he's got a surprise for him.

"Come on in, Y/N," Steve calls out and Bucky's head snaps up at the sound of your name.

No way. There just happens to be another woman here with that name. It's not- Bucky's thoughts get cut off as he watches you walk into the tent, a nervous look on your face.

"Bucky," you breathe out and the twenty-six-year-old stands up from his cot before rushing towards you.

Tears come to your eyes as he wraps his arms around your shoulders, hugging you tightly. "Holy shit, you're-"

"I'm here," you whisper and wrap your arms around his waist, gripping his shirt tightly. "I'm so glad you're okay."

Bucky glances towards Steve and the blonde nods his head before leaving the two of you alone. You pull away from your best friend, sniffling as you bring your hand up to his face.

His blue eyes look you over as he feels your thumb gently strokes his cheek. "What are you doing here?" Bucky whispers and you giggle softly.

"Peggy recruited me to help out," you tell him and Bucky leans into your touch before kissing the palm of your hand.

Your heart flutters in your chest, smiling softly at the man before resting your head on his chest. Bucky wraps his arms around you once more as the two of you stand in silence.

-

"Oh come on. Come with me," you beg Peggy, not wanting to go into a bar filled with men by yourself. "It'll make me feel much safer, at least until I reach Steve and Bucky."

You run your hands over the black material, your dress looking very similar to Peggy's except hers is red. "Fine," she sighs and stands up from her seat, her eyes meeting yours. "I have to talk to Steve anyway."

"Oh?" You question with a slight tease in your voice, nudging her shoulder with yours. "We happen to fancy a certain blonde hair, blue-eyed man?"

Peggy scoffs and shakes her head, clutching her purse. "Absolutely not. Howard has new equipment for him to try," she informs you and you chuckle in response. "Are you finally going to tell James about your feelings?"

Your chuckle dies off at her words and you clear your throat, gliding your fingertips along the smooth dress. "I- Don't know what you're talking about," you tell her, and she gives you a knowing smirk as the two of you get closer to the bar.

"Oh, come on, Y/N. Steve blurted out that you're in love with the man, and it's not that hard to figure out," Peggy teases you now and you scoff, crossing your arms over your chest.

"I don't know. Maybe I'll have enough liquid courage to tell him. We'll see how it plays out," you mention and she nods her head, glad that you'll attempt to reveal your feelings.

The singing in the bar dies down as the Howling Commandos spot the two of you. Your cheeks flush at all the attention and tuck some hair behind your ear as you follow Peggy. "Miss L/N, you look fantastic," one of the men comments and you thank him quietly.

You notice both Bucky and Steve lean back in their chairs as the bar suddenly becomes silent, the two men standing up when you and Peggy approach them. "Captain," Peggy greets Steve and you smile, knowing that the two have some sort of unspoken thing happening.

"Agent Carter," Steve nods, and your eyes move to Bucky, who's currently checking her out and your heart clenches in your chest.

Well… you move around them and head towards the bar, ordering yourself a drink. "I see your top squad is prepping for duty," Peggy tells Steve.

Bucky grins and shoves his hands into his pockets. "You don't like music?" He asks. The bartender places your drink down in front of you and you thank him politely before paying.

"I do, actually," she says, not looking away from Steve for even a second. "I might even, when all of this is over, go dancing."

"Then what are we waiting for?" Bucky flirts and you roll your eyes before taking a large gulp of your drink, already wanting to leave.

So much for him feeling the same way, huh? You think to yourself as you hear Peggy tell him that she's waiting for the right partner. She bids them goodbye before giving you a wave. You nod your head as the two men watch her walk away before Bucky turns to face Steve.

"I'm invisible. I'm turning into you, it's like a horrible dream," he laughs and moves to sit back down in his spot.

Steve claps him on the shoulder as his eyes meet yours. "Maybe she has a friend," he mentions and tilts his head in your direction.

Bucky's eyes find yours as you sit on the barstool, fiddling with the glass in your hands. The brunette finishes the drink he has before glancing towards Steve. "How long has she been sitting there?" He asks and Steve frowns a bit.

"She came in with Peggy," he informs him and Bucky begins to feel a bit guilty for not noticing you.

"Shit," he whispers and watches you order another drink. "I'll see you later."

Steve pats Bucky on the back once more with a smile on his lips. "Go get 'er, tiger," he laughs causing Bucky to roll his eyes.

You smile at the bartender and go to pay him for the drink when someone lays a five-dollar bill on the table. "This one's on me," Bucky says, causing you to look up at the man. "Hey."

"Hi," you mumble as he sits down beside you.

"I'm… I'm sorry," Bucky apologizes immediately and you furrow your brows, wondering what he's apologizing for. "I should've noticed you with Agent Carter, but I didn't. I'm sorry."

A slight scoff leaves your lips and you shake your head, taking a sip of the Brandy. "It's fine, Bucky. You can do whatever you want," you tell him and Bucky frowns before taking your hand in his.

"The night before I left," he starts and your eyes glance towards his blue ones, feeling his thumb stroke the back of your hand, "when I asked to kiss you. Do you know why I did it?"

You swallow thickly as you think about it, wanting to assume it's because he liked you. "Because that chick left you at that car show? I assumed it was because you're lonely," you mumble, your heart breaking at the expression on Bucky's face.

"I kissed you because I didn't know if I was ever going to see you again. I kissed you because I wanted to know what it'd feel like in case I died over here. It was the best kiss of my life," he mumbles and your heart begins to pound against your chest.

"But, I'm here," you whisper to him and Bucky smiles softly, squeezing your hand.

He nods his head and scoots his chair closer to yours, his leg brushing against yours. "You are. Although, I don't like that you're this close to the enemy I'm really glad you're here," Bucky mumbles as the distance between your faces begins to diminish. 

Your breath hitches in your throat as Bucky's lips meet yours. You place your hand on his neck as his rests on your hips. Wolf whistles echo off the walls, causing the two of you to pull apart. You look over Bucky's shoulder to see Steve and the rest of the Howling Commandos standing there with grins on their faces.

"We seem to have an audience," you giggle and Bucky looks over his shoulder before sighing.

"Do you wanna get out of here?" He asks you and you nod your head.

Bucky laces his fingers with yours before leading you out of the bar, ignoring the cheers coming from his fellow soldiers. You press your face against his arm as the two of you walk together, his thumb rubbing against the back of your hand.

"I love you, James," you blurt out and Bucky looks down at you, squeezing your hand.

"I love you too, Y/N."

-

Taglist: @jessalyn-jpeg​ @bumblebet-20​ @queen-of-mischief​

[awkwardspontaneity]

Battles And Bananas

BOTW Link x GN!Sheikah!Reader

Part 3 of Memories of You

Prev | Next

Decide to post another part of this series, tbh I’m not sure how many parts I’m gonna write just yet cuz I have so many ideas. This one was exciting to write because I’ve never written action scenes before but the trope of having a conversation in the midst of battle is so fun to me I had to write it.

Anyways all of this is memory so no italics. :)

Link was running as fast as he could, a tight feeling constricting his lungs, stealing his breath. How could he have been so stupid. He had been so distracted with trying to reconcile with Y/n he had allowed the princess to slip away on her own. Both her and his partner were angry with him, although one he could handle more than the other, but that didn’t mean he wanted to. 

Link was a personable guy. And with his new position as the princesses appointed knight he found himself lacking close friends. Of course he had the Champions, but he couldn’t see them all that often. And the one Champion that he should see often had been too busy. 

Y/n had been away from the castle often after the incident in the Zora Domain, something he felt responsible for. The Sheikah had been tense since they had left Ploymus Mountain. They had snapped at him for throwing them off the waterfall and stormed off to find Mipha. 

That led him to this moment. Chasing down the runaway princess for the millionth time despite her resistance. It was bad enough she would demand he keep his distance in Hyrule, but in the Gerudo Desert? With the Yiga clan running around? He shouldn’t have gotten distracted. 

Reaching the top of the sand dune, Link was able to see the runaway princess. Surrounded by the Yiga. Instinct took over and in the blink of an eye he was there. Time slowed as the Yiga lunged only to meet Link’s blade. Using all the force he could muster, Link thrust his blade forward meeting the Yiga’s chest plate and knocking them back.

He crouched in front of the princess as the other three Yiga hesitated, sizing him up. They seemed to decide they could take on the Hylian because all three lunged at the same time. Link was quick to dodge under the first, spinning up to drive his sword through the second's abdomen. He parried arrows with his shield, twirling his sword to block the first Yiga’s sickle. Twisting his own sword, Link locked the sickle before throwing his head forward. 

Ignoring the burst of pain, Link spun to face the final Yiga, lunging to meet their blade. A short clash of swords ensued before Link gained the upper hand, disarming his opponent before he slashed their chest. 

He tensed as he heard the faint crunch of sand from the Yiga he had headbutted jumping at him. He wouldn’t be able to dodge them without injury. He heard Zelda cry out when an arrow shot past his face. He froze as the sound of porcelain cracking under the sharp arrow rang out, and the Yiga fell.

The eyes of both Hylians snapped up to the sand dune where a horse stood. Y/n hopped down from the horse, taking the reins as they walked down the hill. Link felt that same coil in his chest as he took in the stoic look on the Sheikah’s face. 

“Are you alright princess?” The white haired teen reached out a hand to the princess, carefully helping her stand.

“Thank you.” The blond smiled wearily at her friend, glancing towards Link, “Both of you.”

Link nodded, carefully sheathing his sword. The coil loosened when he met Y/n’s eyes and saw the small smile slip across their face. 

“You really should watch your back.” 

He missed their smile.

------

Zelda had taken the horse back to Gerudo Town leaving the two Champions to track down the Yiga. After they had checked on the princess they had found one of the Yiga was waking up. The trio questioned the traitor, not without much resistance, and had found out that the Yiga clan was making a hideout in the desert. That was all it had taken for the Champions to decide they would be best to check out the camp. 

And that was how Link found himself hiding atop the cliffs next to Y/n. They had found the camp pretty easy seeing as the Yiga were still scouting the area with only a small group. 

“So this is what they’ve been preparing for.” Y/n was glaring at the group working below them. It still made Link feel tense seeing his partner look so serious. But it was their words that caught him this time. They knew more about the Yiga clan than he thought. 

Apparently they had caught his questioning gaze because the Sheikah pulled themselves away from the edge to face him.

“Impa told me that our scouts noticed the Yiga clan seemed like they were making plans. Y’know being more sneaky than usual, stocking up on bananas, the usual craziness. Just... more.” Y/n looked exhausted, something that made Link feel guilty for. He had really thought they had gone away because of him when in reality it was about the safety of the kingdom. “Anyways, I’ve been tracking the Yiga down, trying to question any lone scouts to figure out what’s going on. But they’re very secretive. I get being willing to die for your cause but come on.”

Link couldn’t help but let a snicker escape him at Y/n’s tone towards the end. “I’m glad you’re back okay.”

Y/n gave him a soft smile glancing towards the setting sun. “I’m sorry I didn’t say anything. It came out of nowhere and I had to run off.”

Link coughed slightly, embarrassment clawing at him. Was he that transparent? He was sure he had hidden how much it bothered him to no longer be accompanied by their chatter and glowing smiles.

Suddenly a shout came from below and the Champions looked down to find all the Yiga staring up at them.

Shit.

The Yiga sprinted to their weapons as the two scrambled down from their overlook. They landed on the sand right as the first Yiga came rushing back. Link was the first to meet blades with the Yiga, locking swords as Y/n slashed their chest with  one of their blades. 

The two shot off into the fray, knocking down Yiga until they were pushed back together again.

“I meant it y’know…” Y/n stepped back before shooting forward and slashing down three of the Yiga with their twin blades. “I was really a jerk to you back when we went to the Zora Domain, and then I go and run off without a word. I’m-” 

Link cut them off by grabbing their hand. He pulled them into his chest as he struck down the Yiga behind them. “Y/n, I threw us off a waterfall, you’re allowed to be upset.”

“Yeah, but you did it to save our lives.” 

Another slash as Link threw himself into a spin attack.

“But I could have found another way.”

Link cut down one final Yiga and Y/n shot down the last before the two met together in the center of their impromptu battlefield.

“Well I could’ve-” Y/n snorted, reaching out to squeeze his hand. “We’re arguing like kids”

Link laughed at that grinning at his friend, “I guess we are. Sorry about that.”

Y/n laughed loudly, their voice echoing off the rock walls. “What matters is that we’re both okay. We may not have the best of luck,” they gestured to the damage surrounding them,  “but I can handle the chaos as long as we’re doing it together.”

Link squeezed their hand in response

“Together.”

[justaniche]

Hey! I’m dying for more Daxton. I seriously can’t wait for season 2. Can you write something about Nalini realizing Paxton is good for Devi? Like he takes care of her/protects her and helps her deal with her trauma

Thanks!!

Hi!

omg let me say first, anon, thank you for this ask. youre the first person to take me up on my offer to write stuff for you so thank you again.

A little bit about this writing piece before I actually show it to you, there was a point when I was writing it when I wasn’t sure if it was going to reach 1K words but there was a point where the words just start to flow and I can proudly say it is 2.1K and that is not a lot but based on what I thought it was going to end up being it has come along way. and this is one of my first-ish never have I ever work of writing. I think it’s the first I’ve written entirely off the top of my head. My other ones are either not posted or it’s my work inspired by the episodes and its just everything through Paxton‘s point of view so it’s a bit different.

this is getting sort of long so anyway, without further ado. here it is. I hope you enjoy it, please let me know what you think and if you like it please feel free to send me another!

Nalini had just about had it. The day’s raging dumpster fire began with traffic that resulted in her being late to work. If that wasn’t bad enough, a patient she saw a couple days ago came back complaining that her treatment caused a breakout. After a follow-up, she discovered the patient hadn’t changed any of their habits despite her advice! So was it really the treatment, or the fact that they don’t wash their face? All that suffices to say when Nalini got home she was already on a very short fuse. Kamala was out for school and let her family know she wouldn’t be home for dinner so it was known by both Devi and Nalini that they would be cooking without her today. Nalini gave Devi specific instructions so that, regardless of how late her day ran, they could have dinner at a reasonable time. Devi did not follow those instructions. Nalini came home to the door unlocked, closed but unlocked, the house a mess, and Devi’s part of dinner not made. No matter how many breaths she took, Nalini was mad. No, mad didn’t quite cover it. She silently walked up the stairs, hell-bent on seeing what caused this disaster, and if she didn’t like the reason she planned to riff for the rest of the night. But approaching Devi’s door she found it ajar. She peeked inside, and that's where she found them.

After winning his swim meet, Paxton was on top of the world. The school day had been what it tended to be, light. Filled with class and hanging with his friends in the hotpocket. But that was hours ago. It was early evening when he saw her, Devi Vishwakumar, they had sort of become friends over recent weeks but given the up and down nature of their relationship, Paxton was always very aware of her. Devi had a way of grabbing Paxton’s attention. He was always trying to figure her out. Of course she made a hell of a first impression, first couple of impressions actually. Devi was sorely different from anyone else in his circle and Paxton wasn’t yet sure how he felt about the sudden invasion. He pretended he didn’t but after unintentionally watching her Paxton began to notice Devi’s change in mood sometimes. Like right now, from where Paxton was he saw the set of her shoulders. The tension was apparent as Devi stalked across the school grounds. Confusion flooded Paxton’s mind and before another thought could register, he was jogging towards her.

“ Hey, Vishwakumar, wait up! ” He called towards her but she didn’t stop

Devi cast a look over her shoulder, her voice was muffled when she spoke, “Uh, Hi Paxton, I can’t talk.” her voice cracks, “I’m in a bit of a rush.”

Paxton slows down for a second as he takes in the situation, Devi speeds up.

“Are you okay?”

Devi breaks into a dead sprint and Paxton doesn’t think, he just follows.

Devi was doing okay. Today was harder than most for a reason she couldn’t name but Devi was making it through. That was until last period art class. The teacher gave a simple assignment, and that was to paint your happiest memory. Immediately when the words left his mouth, a memory came flooding into Devi's mind like a tidal wave.

Devi was 8 when her father convinced her mother that going to a Californian beach as a family would be an adventure. Devi barely remembers the build-up, it was a haze of packing sandwiches and equipment. Leaving the house, only to discover something had been forgotten. A car ride that seemed to stretch into forever. But the beach was magnificent. At least it was in Devi’s memory. It was a gloomy day, the threat of rain looming, so the beach’s visitors were far and few in between. Devi remembers that feeling of warm sand under her feet. She remembers those first fragile steps into the tide, only to rush back as the ocean crashed forward chasing her back to shore. She could see her mom, in the distance, setting up their makeshift camp for the day. She was more content watching her family than participating. The ocean was vast and blue and terrifying. Devi could not urge herself to take more than a few steps. Devi doesn’t know how her dad saw her distress but it was like he could read her mind. He grabbed her and lifted her high then settled Devi on his shoulders. He insisted that she was safe there, she was too high for the ocean to ever reach. He held her hand as he walked slowly but confidently further into the waves. He stopped just as the water kissed her mid-calf but it was enough. From way up here, with her father by her side, the ocean wasn’t anything to fear, it was something to marvel at.

Devi had a firm picture in her mind of her happiest memory and it was her family’s adventure at the beach. But Devi couldn’t make a move to make this image a reality. Sadness crept up on her and got a vice grip on her heart. Her vision blurred and she couldn’t breathe. How had she ever breathed before? Was it always this hard? The bell rang, signaling the end of the day but Devi was on autopilot. Eleanor and Fabiola felt miles away, whenever they’d focus in the daze of her mind, the grip on her heart tightened and dragged her back to darkness. Devi doesn’t know if she said goodbye to her best friends,

She blinked, band began

She inhaled, band was over

She stood, the sun was setting

She gazed, the stress stiffened her movements as she walked around campus. Where was she headed?

Devi was desperate for light, for clarity.

“ Hey, Vishwakumar, wait up! ” The sudden noise broke the muddle, if only for now, she was again aware of the devastation and loss weighing on her mind and on her heart.

She recognized that voice and it was getting closer, she glanced over her shoulder. Paxton, no no no, she didn’t want anyone to see this least of all her newest and most popular friend, “Uh, Hi Paxton, I can’t talk.” Why was her voice cracking? “I’m in a bit of a rush.”

Devi finally knew where she wanted to go as she increased her speed.

“Are you okay?” Paxton’s question was the final straw, she couldn’t stop her tears and they fell uncontrollably past her cheeks. Paxton was going to catch up, and Devi was crumbling by the second. So Devi did the only thing she could. She ran, ignoring the echo of the beating steps behind her.

Nalini could hardly comprehend the scene playing in front of her. Devi, her only child, her entire world, looked so small folded up on the floor in front of her bed. Devi was always so strong, with a personality larger than life. She always seemed bigger than her stature, always taking up more space. Nalini's anger from the day deflates, leaving no trace it was ever there to begin with. Nalini tears her eyes away from the form of her daughter to take in the room. It was dark but the other figure inhabiting the room was clear as day. Paxton sat before Devi, his body language soft. He had one hand on the arms Devi wrapped around herself as he spoke to her gently. Paxton’s volume was soft as a whisper, any louder would shatter the delicate atmosphere. Witnessing this scene felt like a secret and the longer Nalini stood there the guiltier she felt. Devi never expressed emotions this deeply to her. Everyday problems with her friends or tests or Ben Gross, yes. But Devi never shared this.

Nalini's mind was going a million miles an hour as he crept back down the steps and began cooking dinner. She knew Devi would refuse but she needed to have something ready, just in case. When everything was mostly done, she was quiet as she moved around the kitchen, putting the finishing touches on the meal. Nalini knew he was trying to walk silently but she still caught Paxton as he descended the steps. Nalini kept her back to him as she called, giving Paxton an out if he needed.

“Paxton?”

“Um...yes, Hi Mrs. Vishwakumar” at the acknowledgment, Nalini felt comfortable enough to turn around.

Paxton was standing in the doorway, shuffling in obvious discomfort. What he expected her to say she didn’t know. Gods, neither did Nalini. Questions flew through her mind faster than she could catch them. She didn’t want to ask him about what happened, Nalini wanted Devi to share when, if, she was ready. Nalini realized, amongst these questions, that she didn’t know Paxton. Here was this kid, late in the evening comforting her daughter. She couldn’t even be upset that they were home alone when she recalled how broken Devi looked. All Nalini had done thus far was judge Paxton, he looked like a jock so she thought him dumb. She made these assumptions about him, that he’d peak in high school or that he was shallow or that he was a walking STI, but they were just that. Assumptions. This kid stayed with her daughter for she didn’t even know how long, she’d been cooking for close to an hour so it was at least that.

All these guesses and judgments were useless when she stood in front of him. Paxton had a rigid set to his limbs, Nalini thought it was probably from sitting in one position for so long, and he was still dressed in gym clothes. Paxton looked new in Nalini’s eyes and she regretted never wanting to know him before now. Nalini didn’t know where to begin, she wondered if he’d eaten.

“Would you like something to eat?” Nalini's silent prayer must’ve been heard because he accepted. She was being given another chance. She quickly worked around the familiar space, grabbing one of the good containers and piling more food than necessary, successfully straining the unyielding plastic. She was handing the meal over when she paused, they both had a hand on the object between them but Nalini couldn’t let go, not yet.

“Thank you, Paxton, really, I don’t know what happened and I won’t ask but I saw what you did for Devi.” Paxton had the decency to look a little shocked. He hadn’t heard anything. Paxton was too absorbed before. His mind was a broken record repeating only, Devi.

The moment shatters when the front door opened, “I’m home!” Kamala’s voice fills the silent home. With the trance broken, Nalini’s hold on the container falters and she drops her hand allowing Paxton to leave. Words were failing him so all Paxton could give was a tightlipped smile in response.

“Thanks for the dinner.” Paxton’s smile was looser now and that gave Nalini courage.

Kamala was unloaded the day around her but Nalini was focused on making this right, “You’re welcome to come by Paxton, anytime.” She could only hope Paxton knew just how much she meant those words. His smile was burdened but bright, he nodded strongly and then he was out the door.

Kamala was fixing the table for a very late dinner when she called for Devi to join, Nalini hoped she would. “Who was that? And why was he here so late?” Pure curiosity laced Kamala’s voice.

“Paxton is one of Devi’s friends. He’s a good kid.”

Those details were all she could provide before Devi came bouncing down the steps. Nalini couldn’t be sure if it was the fact of what she saw or reality but Devi’s movements looked heavier than they normally were.

“What’s up guys?” Devi’s voice feigned casualness, “Dang mom, isn’t it late for a thousand-course meal?” She questioned as she took in the lack of clear surfaces on the dinner table.

Nalini just brushed it off, indicating for everyone to take a seat. “So how was everyone’s day?”

Nalini wasn’t looking for Devi to share but this was her family. She would always want to hear how they were, plus it was tradition. As they consumed insane amounts of food they were bound to regret eating this late at night, everything felt so normal and easy. But something had shifted in Nalini today and even though it was new and she was scared to death of this person entering Devi’s life with the propensity to hurt her. Nalini can’t say she minded too much because it was Paxton. He had proven himself worthy of a chance, and Nalini wouldn’t soon forget it.

[sw124]

BonelyHearts Reader Insert

{Female!ReaderXSkeleton household}

Camping! Pt.1

It was nippy outside, no question there. But you couldn’t beat the sheer beauty of it all. The field was vast and filled with rolling hills turning the loveliest shades of tan from the upcoming winter season. There was not a tree for miles around. You stretched your arms back, breathing in that beautiful air, it was so crisp it would put an apple’s skin to shame. You let out a long breath, watching it curl into its own cloud before quickly dissipating.

“So pretty here...” you whispered to yourself.

“Human! Have you found a spot yet?!”

You turn to see your gaggle of skeleton friends all unloading things from the van, you smile and wave to Papyrus.

“One sec ok I think I found a great spot for us all!”

Happily you half-jogged down the little hill you were standing on and scoped out a nice spot, it was flat and void of twigs and leaves. You stamped the ground to be sure there weren’t any spots waterlogged from rain, but no the ground was perfectly dry and level.

Back up the hill you run and call out. “Guys over here, I found the perfect spot!”

Back down you raced and skipped around the spot, the first skeleton over the hill was Blue with the picnic table; a perfect sign that this spot is claimed by someone. Blue hands you the table and you set it up, he runs back over the hill. The next skeleton to come over the hill is Papyrus with some of the chairs, all neatly marked with everyone’s name on the back of each unique chair, including yours.

You take them and set them up in a line; to both keep them out of the way and to let everyone choose where they’d like to sit when things get ready. Boss and Ash were the next couple of skeletons over the hill bringing the tents. Poplar was close behind carrying some bags, Nox and Rus were the next two over the threshold carrying two large boxes.

You rushed back up the hill to the van and met up with Red and Sans who were digging stuff out of the van. You came up and collected what they just took out and went back to the spot, you set the things down and went back for more. Stretch passed you carrying some of the sleeping bags. You couldn’t help but imagine everyone plus yourself as a bunch of worker ants. You were the one to get the last of the things, the box labeled ‘plates, utensils and cleanup’.

You just reached over the crest of the hill, you watched as Boss and Papyrus began laying out the tarps for some of the tents while Nox and Blue set up the canopy tent, Stretch and Rus were getting the sleeping bags sorted out. Of course Sans was already napping in his chair, you walked over to Ash, Poplar and Red who were getting the portable fire pit ready. You set the things down and grabbed a bucket nearby, you turned to the skeletons.

“I’m gonna go get some water and firewood!”

“Wait human!” You paused as Papyrus walked up to you...Sans neatly tucked under one arm. “Take Sans with you, he needs to do something productive instead of lazing about!”

Sans gave you shrug after Papyrus sat him down, you smile and take his hand.

“Its not that far, lets go lazy bones.” You just had to giggle seeing the blush form on his face.

You and Sans didn’t have far to walk, the communal area was at least just a yard away. You paid for fire wood, making sure to have extra just in case also filling the bucket up with water. You told Sans to teleport the wood back to the campsite you’d be fine walking back with the bucket.

“Actually, I got a better idea.” Taking your hand and in a blink of an eye, the both of you were back at the campsite, firewood and water in hand.

“Ah you’re back! That was quick!” Papyrus took the bucket from you as Sans sat the fire wood down by Red.

“The hell- I don’t know how to start a damn fire, why you putting it by me?” Red growled.

“Well someone’s gotta know, other wise we’re gonna be ‘burned out’ by the end of this.” Sans chuckled, a echo of groans is heard.

You took the initiative, while Sans and Red went back and forth you began setting things up for the fire. Ash and Poplar watched, you balled up some dry-dead grass and layered some small twigs on it. Taking out a lighter you packed you lite the grass, after you got the smaller fire going you started layering on the wood. In a matter of a few minutes you had a nice fire all set.

“Fires ready.” You said, you felt a little proud seeing everyone’s expressions.

“Anything else that needs to be done?” You asked, surveying the layout.

“If you could set up the cooking station under the canopy that would be nice.” Said Poplar, Ash helping him stand up.

Nodding you went to the canopy and start unpacking, you unpacked the snacks first but kept the perishables like the fish inside the cooler along with the vegetables. You took out a large pot, pasta, ramen and other things and set them on a separate fold-out table; preparations for tonight’s dinner. You had just set out the last of the snacks when you heard Nox curse, you look to see him knelt down by a peg and holding his hand.

“Nox, you ok?” You walk over.

“I’m fine, I just caught the side of my hand with the hammer.”

You were quick to take his hand and inspect it, a habit of yours whenever someone had gotten an injury no matter how minor it was. Nox grumbles but doesn’t take his hand away, you gently rub his hand between yours to sooth the wound before standing back up. Giving him a sweet smile, was it your imagination or was he blushing.

“I’m setting up some snacks for when you boys are done, drinks too; I’ll let you know when there done.” You left before he could give you a reply, you had a task to complete.

You arranged the small snack bags into two groups, one side was for the shorter skeletons the other for the taller skeletons. Of course it had everyone’s name written on the baggies but this just made it simpler. Next were the drinks, coco and coffee. You took great pains to make sure the coffee was just right too, you brought a special hand grinder for the coffee beans.

The coco you decided was going to be just as special, you were going to make it just like how your parents did back when you were really small. As you were finishing everything up, something caught your attention. You turned and saw at least a few yards away a giant RV party bus pull in, it was blaring popular club music, you could feel the ground vibrating from it. You wrinkled your nose a little, the smug oozing off the thing was almost too much. You tried to tell yourself it might just be a family and their kids put the music on loud as a joke.....you were dead wrong. The people that stepped out were four young men. You wrinkled your nose again, everyone else around the campground were either elderly/young couples or families. Not these wannabe campers...

You turned back to your task, just ignore them and things would be fine. You took the pot of hot coco and poured them into some mugs, next was the coffee and whatever the boys put in their coffee. You basically memorized everything these boys put in their drinks. You had just finished pouring the last cup when you heard Papyrus’s triumphant laugh. You turn to find a rather impressive sight, three tents but they were all connected with small extension tunnels, length maybe a single meter?

“Whoa...” you whispered.

You had two large tents sandwiching a slightly smaller one in the middle, you walked over and marveled at them. Papyrus walked over, his hand proudly placed on his hips and chest puffed high.

“Yes a magnificent sight indeed human! A friend of ours lent this to us, the tent on the left over here is where I, Boss, Poplar, Rus and Stretch will sleep. Our brothers will be in the tent on the far right and you will have the center tent!”

You blinked, the center tent was yours? You unzipped the front and looked inside, for goodness sake the center tent could fit five fully grown adults it was so huge! It had pockets to fit your phone too, you looked to and saw two opening ‘doorways’? Tentways? Whatever it was called you looked inside and goodness both sides were massive, but then again it probably was for the best since they were fitting five tall skeletons...and five short ones. Thankfully you found you could zip up both sides for privacy.

“What do you think human?” Asked Papyrus.

“Really amazing!” You couldn’t lie, this was impressive.

“Nyeheheh! Thank you human!”

“Well I’m glad your done cause I’ve just finish setting up the kitchen and have some hot drinks and snacks ready.”

You turned to get the drinks as Papyrus called everyone together, the skeletons all propped their chairs around the fire as you passed out their snacks, coco and coffee. You made yourself a cup of warm butterfly pea tea and sat down in your own chair. Rus softly blew across the top of his coco to cool it down before taking a sip of it, you smiled seeing his eyes light up.

“W-Wow...did you buy a new coco brand?” Rus looked at you, stars dancing in his eyes.

“No, I just made coco the way my parents did. No instant coco or coffee for this camping trip!” You giggle.

Ash smiled wildly as he tasted his coco along with his brother, Nox was inspecting his coffee, inhaling its steam to be sure you did a proper job in preparing his drink. You slyly rolled your eyes but didn’t hold it against him, good coffee is hard to come by or make right. Stretch though was not as picky and spoke up.

“Heeeeey this is pretty good, you sure you didn’t use the instant stuff?”

You knew he was poking fun at you but shook your head, you turned back to Nox, you caught a glimpse of his eyes going wide before returning to normal...followed by a fox like grin.

“Well my dear you certainly have been paying attention to my lessons on coffee haven’t you?” He purred.

“Yes, even I must admit you do have a way with making a good cup of coffee.” Replied Boss sipping his own cup.

Blue, much like Rus had stars dancing in his eyes, if the coffee was a little more cooler he might have chugged his entire mug down in a single go but it was still nice and hot so he had no choice but to sip. Red seemed to be restraining himself from downing his own cup as well. Papyrus and Sans were the last to speak up.

“Wowie human this is truly amazing!”

“Yeah, what did you buy?” Asked Sans, looking into his cup.

You smiled. “If you really want to know, I used milk, butter, sugar and coco powder all mixed together in a small cooking pot. My parents would make that kind of coco all the time in winter when I was really little, when I heard we were going camping I thought I’d share it with you guys.”

“Thats really nice...” said Ash, you smile at him...you were making a lot of skeletons blush today.

Papyrus spoke up next.

“So human, what shall we do now that we’re set up?”

[To be continued..]

[A fanfic reader insert for the fan-game @bonelyheartsclub I hope you enjoy and I will be planning more in the future with gender neutral or male centered readers, I hope you enjoy. Also I kinda guessed on what drinks the boys would like so don’t rag on me about getting drink choices mixed up ok? I’ll make corrections when I learn more about the boys]

[queenangst]

fic roundup #12 (bnha)

about: fic roundups cover boku no hero academia fanfiction, and mostly showcases gen fic; each roundup includes 5-10 fics. for more fic recs, check out my fic rec tag, my bnha fic rec tag, & my fic roundups tag.

here’s some fics i’ve picked up and enjoyed recently!

close my eyes and i see the fallen by Smiley5494

gen; 1.1k; chapters 1/1 complete; aizawa & class 1a

The thought that maybe they are too young is met with the echoes of a laugh he hasn’t heard since high school and the weight of grief on his shoulders. He was too young, when he saw the first death of a friend, and aren’t they all? These students will have to experience that far too early, and some of them already have; Midoriya having to have witnessed Sir Nighteye’s death, Bakugo having experienced being kidnapped, the USJ and the training camp. All Might's retirement.

“Write your first draft, and remember,” Aizawa says, “this is where you can say your final goodbyes, so make sure you write what you mean.”

thoughts: i really enjoyed the concept of this fic, and how seriously it addresses canon. 

Like Muscle Memory by anna7130

gen; 61.k; chapters 1/1 complete; izuku & bakugou

He’s staring down at Kaminari with a guilty but slightly smug face. Bakugou stands next to him, arms crossed, He looks far less guilty and far more smug.

“That’ll teach you to mess with me, shithead,” he snarls. Midoriya shakes his head fondly.

The blond boy raises a hand to his side. Without looking, Midoriya meets him for a high-five.

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

AKA five times that class 1-A underestimates Midoriya and Bakugou’s friendship, and one time they all know exactly what's what

thoughts: anyone who knows me knows i love bkdk friendship, and this fic is a complete blast. it really puts them front in center and makes them feel real and fun. shenanigans away. 

spinning out of control by mollE

gen; 2.9k; chapters 1/1 complete; izuku & bakugou

He can’t scream. He wishes, oh, he wishes he could. He’s already tried. He’s been trying, but he’s stuck in his own head, watching his hands wrap around Deku’s skinny neck and squeeze until his face turns purple and then let go again like he’s toying with him, taking him to the brink of unconsciousness and keeping him there. Deku sputters and coughs, and his chest heaves between Katsuki’s thighs. There are tears running down his face, and it’s not the first time he’s ever cried because of Katsuki. It’s not the first time Katsuki’s ever hurt him.

But never like this.

-- Katsuki joins the 'I've Been Mind Controlled' Club. He wishes he hadn't.

thoughts: there is nothing sweeter than mind control angst. i love this look into their relationship when bakugou has lost control. whump, guilt, and then some comfort right at the end. absolutely satisfying. 

we drew our own constellations by sakvnosuke (series)

gen; 23k; 3/? works incomplete; class 1a & aizawa

Twenty rising heroes dragged their tired teacher to their schemes and unknowingly caused the man to have some unwanted revelations; more at 11.

thoughts: i read these faster than you can say “dadzawa.” i’m an absolute sucker for aizawa-centric fic, as well as future fic. i love this version of a class 1-a future; it made me smile, laugh, and yell at my friends. i wouldn’t like to give anything away, but i absolutely recommend this.

A Calculated Error by granny_griffin

gen; 1k; chapters 1/1 complete; izuku & bakugou, class 1a

"Save the laurels, ya ding dong," Kacchan drawled. He was already seated behind them, legs draped across the desk in front of him. "Deku cheated."

Iida turned back, folding his arms. "That is a serious accusation for any—"

"I didn't!" Izuku exclaimed, then stopped. He had interrupted whatever Iida was going to say.

Kacchan turned to face him, eyes narrowing. "There is no other way you could have gotten in."

thoughts: really, really funny. i enjoyed every bit as i read it and loved the dynamics of all the different characters. 

foreseen legacy by azureskyy

gen; 8k; chapters 1/1 complete; izuku & ofa, all might, aizawa

Upon seeing their future successor, One for All takes the opportunity presented to them and transfers to Izuku. Said kid doesn't notice that he has a quirk, but he does wonder why he's suddenly compelled to walk around certain places for absolutely no reason at all. Meanwhile, Yagi Toshinori runs around the city, trying to find the elusive, possibly ninth holder of his quirk, Midoriya Izuku.

Or: One for All is a haunted quirk. Fate has long been determined. Naturally, this ends up in a ridiculous cycle of missed chances and failed attempts to talk to each other.

thoughts: this fic is as funny as it sounds, but also well-written with enough depth to make it satisfying. 

summer thunderstorms by orkestrations

gen; 4.2k; chapters 5/? ongoing; izuku & all might

a variety of short dadmight fics, mostly centered around dagobah beach and the ten months before the entrance exam.

thoughts: all really sweet. if you’re looking for a pick-me-up, this collection of short fics is a great read. 

[generallybarzy]

too pretty for this.

anon requested: based off the photos of barzy at training camp: taking care of him after he gets hurt on the ice at training camp

an: yes!! here’s a lil request for an anon about our precious boy barzy and how beat up he’s been getting, bless that pretty boy. I’m also working on Hey There Stranger, so that’ll be out soon! I'm so proud of myself, even though it's short this is the quickest I've gotten something requested, written, and posted at once in a long time!!! Hopefully I'll get back in the swing of things soon!!!

tags: @selenophileangel @deleausvp @dunnwithlyfe @smit41 @softboybarzal @fallinallincurls @matbaerzal @brokeninsidebutnobodyknows @hockeyhughes11 @folkloreflyers @nazdaddy @shawnsreputation @comphybiscuit @aboveaveragehockeyboys @canadianheaters @ifiwasshawnmendesidslapmyself @baby-cat-nol-pat

word count: 1.1k

“Oh, baby…”

“I know, I know.” 

Mat smiled sheepishly and held up his hands in surrender as he stepped in the door. He always loved how you were the first thing he saw after getting home from practice, but he knew today that as soon as he was within view of you, you were going to baby him. You pulled him into your arms in the apartment and he pushed the door closed behind him and dropped his stuff down before wrapping his long arms around you. He squeezed you tight and, just when you were about to pull back to get a good look at his face, he scurried off to the kitchen to grab a glass of water. 

“Hey, get back here, mister. Don’t think you can just walk off.” He let out a laugh at the soft tone of your voice with the stern sounding words. Before being with you, he would’ve cringed at seeing couples sweet talk each other, he would’ve found it nauseating to hear their baby talk, but now he recognized just how amazing it felt to have someone to dote on you- and to dote back on them on other days. He wouldn’t trade it for the world, the beautiful exchange of love in this relationship, the pure, earnest loving and adoration that was shared. He never thought he would find a love like this. “Maty, I gotta check up on you!” 

“I promise I’m okay.” But still, he came to sit next to you on the couch, where you were already reaching for him, eyes wide and searching his face for any more injuries. “It’s seriously nothing.”

“Beau sent me pictures of you when you were bleeding.” 

“It looked worse than it is. It’s just a little cut.” 

Still, you reached up to cup his face between your palms, tenderly, and turned his head this way and that, examining his pretty features and the ugly, bandaged cut above the corner of his lip. His lips turned up at the corners, allowing you to play doctor and make sure he was still up and running like the Mat you loved so much. You tilted his head side to side before grazing a thumb across the bandage delicately. “You gotta be careful out there. You’re too cute to keep getting beat up, bubs.” He smiled, cheeks lighting up in a grin, always loving when you held his face. He leaned in to your touch, practically snuggling into your palm.

“Oh, yeah?” 

“Yeah.” 

“I’m cute, eh?”

“Adorable.” You leaned in and pressed your lips to the tip of his nose, his face scrunched up in an uncontrollable grin in the beautiful way he always did, the smiles where he could barely contain his happiness and let it swallow up his entire being. He was happy. He was always happy with you. And just knowing that you were the one causing these full-body smiles made your heart swell with pride. He chose you. “You’re just so cute, my beautiful, talented, pretty boy, you know that?” Mat’s cheeks went pink at the name, sticking his tongue out to wet his lips.

“Hmm. Call me that again?”

“What, pretty boy? You like that nickname?” 

“I do.” 

“Well,” You leaned back against the couch and pulled him down with you, slowly, letting him rest his head against your chest as you pressed your lips against the top of his head, breathing in the shampoo he’d used after his shower and playing with the dark locks. “It’s true. You’re my pretty boy.”

“Only yours.” 

He sighed against your chest and let his eyes slip shut. He was content. 

“And my pretty boy keeps getting hurt. What are we gonna do about that?” 

Mat couldn’t form an answer, too busy focusing on the way your soft fingers felt on his skin, the way they traveled up and down the back of his neck, the way they immediately found his cheek when he turned his head to the side, and the way they danced their way delicately across the bandaid with so, so much carefulness. The way your other hand slid up his body and under his hoodie, across the warm, tight muscles on his back and over the developing bruises from practice, ever so gentle wherever you touched him. He loved that about you, the way that no matter how obvious it was that he was so much bigger and sturdier than you and could handle a rougher touch, your hands always lay on him as softly as possible. The act always knocked the breath out of him, seeing how gently you touched him and how much you cared, and it almost felt more intense than if you would’ve been rough. It felt more intimate. More special. Mat’s job consisted of him getting beat up and slammed against boards, and you always gave him the gentle side of life. He would get home from games or practices, black and blue, bruised and beaten and bloodied, and you would be there to hold him, run your fingers through his locks, and adore him like he deserved. 

“Bubs?” 

“Huh?” 

“You falling asleep on me?”

“Sorry. Just feels so nice.”

“Good.” Your fingers tugged at a knot in his hair and your hand rubbed along his shoulders. “I’m serious about you having to be more careful, okay? You’re too pretty, baby. That pretty boy face of yours is gonna be all banged up by the end of the season.”

“Babe, I’m a hockey player. I’ve been through worse than a cut on my face.” 

“I know, but it doesn’t make it any easier to see you get hurt. I worry.” He looked up at those words, hearing the pout in your voice before he even saw the way your bottom lip jutted out so cutely at him. He pouted right back at you for a moment, stretching up to press a playful kiss against you before settling back where he belonged. 

“I’m sorry for worrying you.” 

“S’okay. As long as you come home in one piece.” 

“Always.” 

He lifted himself onto his knees and crawled further up your body so that he could press a kiss directly onto your mouth, his big hand cradling your cheek in his palm, before resting the entirety of his weight against you. Your favorite weighted blanket. 

“Ya know,” You started, your hands curling through his locks once again as he closed his eyes to get some rest. “The more beat up you get during practice, the more I wanna just lock you up here and not let you leave this couch. Keep you all safe with me so you can’t get hurt anymore. That’s what I wanna do. We can stay like this forever.”

He laughed against your chest, the feeling resonating through your body and sending vibrations of love and devotion deep through your soul, and looked up at you under heavy lashes one final time before settling back to sleep:

“That doesn’t sound so bad.”

[alicemitch09writes]

(un)loving miya atsumu

six

the boys in the club.

As soon as practice ended, you had just finished writing in the journal, signing off a few things, eyes glued to your written analysis and observations bent on heading home. Kaoru needed help with one of his homework and asked you earlier to help him.

Just then, a familiar voice called out to you.

“(Y/N)!”

Looking up, you meet the kind gaze of Aran. “We’re headin’ to that new boba shop by the station, wanna come with?” Behind him were Akagi, Oomimi, Kita, and a few other players, watching you with inviting smiles.

You paused, gripping on to your notebook.

Thing was, it had been a few days since the incident. As much as your seniors meant no harm, you didn’t want a reminder of your humiliation.

More importantly, this was Ojiro Aran – out of everyone in the team, he was the one who knew the twins best and the one of the few people they respected, he was their straightman as much as a big brother figure to them. And because you were associated with the twins, he had the same reception with you - if not, kinder and softer. Something akin to concern swam in those dark eyes of his, to which you had to ignore.

Atsumu – who was watching with a glare, brown eyes burning at you, threatening – would hate you even more for trying to take Aran from him.

And so, you shake your head. “I’m sorry, but I’ll have to pass. But please, enjoy for me.”

Without another word, you nodded at them all, ignoring the sad look in their eyes, and left.

"Torino?"

"Karasuno," you corrected, almost exasperatedly. Seriously, how old was Coach Kurosu again?

Realization dawns on him. "Ah, haven't heard that name in a while."

"Are they any good?"

"Dunno, they're an old powerhouse."

Humming, you look back at the pamphlet in your hands. "A rather glorious comeback, wouldn't you say?"

The older man pulls his head back, barking in laughter. "That's a rather poetic way of saying it!"

It would be something your captain would say, but currently, he's busy having a practice match with the rest of the team.

As always, with him on the court, everyone played to their best and didn't half-ass or slack. Heck, even Suna was doing some work!

But of course, there were his plays - graceful, smooth, and focused solely on the defense.

Definitely a clear cut choice of captain, the standard, in your opinion.

"Aran-san, nice serve!"

A blur of yellow and blue flies to his hand, dribbling it with his one hand as he walks to the end of the court and waits for the whistle. With him serving, it had everyone on high alert.

The ball flies up in the air, Ojiro runs up, hands raised to meet the falling ball, sending it flying to the other side of the court just barely touching the outer line. Still an in.

Definitely an ace alright, enough to be recognized in the country’s top 5 aces.

Whoever the next ace was – it’s going to be a tough call between Osamu and Ginjima - they have big shoes to fill.

Quickly, you write in your notebook.

'Ojiro serves: Ins - 5, Outs - 1'

After a week of exams, it was only natural that people reverted back to their normal state – you with managerial duties for the school’s illustrious volleyball club. Fresh out of the burn of their academics, everyone seemed to be in high spirits.

"What're you standing around the court for? Chase after it!" Coach Kurosu yells. "Geez, my dog chases balls better than these nitwits."

And there's his dog analogy, you thought to yourself, hilarious as always to hear.

On the other side of the court was a team composed of Suna, Osamu, Atsumu, and Ginjima - the trouble children, and two other second years. Opposing them were the third years - Kita, Akagi, Oomimi, Aran, one third year, and another second year.

Honestly, your captain would've done well as libero, with his amazing receiving skills and read of the ball's trajectory. He wasn't the team's defensive specialist for nothing. Nevertheless, as a wing spiker, he does well for his part. Regardless if his skills were average, just the way he presents himself in and out of the court was astounding.

"Suna, nice serve!" you called out, watching the tall boy walk back in line.

Just as the whistle blew, the ball was sent flying in the air leaving the opposing team scrambling.

For one rather lackadaisical, Suna's techniques were something. If only he gave his all in all of his games.

'Suna serves: Ins - 4, Outs - 0'

Seeing gray-dyed, you closely watched as Osamu toy with the current blockers, not once intimidated by Oomimi, the top blocker of the team.

As the ball appeared before him, instead of spiking it, he tossed it to his waiting twin, sending the ball to the other court. A flash of gold - a hungry look in his eyes as the ball goes the way he wanted it to go, enough to blind from your spot.

"The twins are on point today as usual," Coach Kurosu says with a nod. You nod with him, writing into your logbook.

'Miya Twins quicks: success - 6, fails - 1'

Yep, everyone was definitely in high spirits today.

Your thoughts and observations were echoed by the two coaches after practice, after congratulating them for all doing a great job during the previous week. Exams were no laughing matter, they were a test to see one’s mental and academic capability – as they were all students.

Now that you think about it, as Coach Oomi was telling off a few of the boys, you had to follow up on their performance once the results were out. Normally, they’d get their test results in a week’s time, probably.

After that, a short break for the holidays.

Must be nice…

"Ah, by the way," you call out, making your presence known and just before the coaches ended today’s practice.

All eyes were on you, attention on high. Turning to your coaches pointedly, expectantly, they only stared back, question in their eyes. Frowning, your head tilted slightly, they stared back. The frown on your face deepened, unamused.

Seriously?

Planting your hand on your hip, your expression sours. "You both forgot, didn't you?" they winced.

"A-Ah, you have to be specific, (L/N)." Coach Oomi defended, Coach Kurosu nodding beside him.

Your frown only deepened, eyes narrowing.

"We just talked about it before practice started," though your voice was even, there was enough bite to it. And though older than you, the two men felt small under your reprimanding gaze. More so when you sighed, as though you've said too much. “And you both told me to remind you about it before we end today’s practice.”

As the team watched, they felt just as though you were talking to the lot of them – your voice thick with disappointment. Kita watched, unaffected by it all almost amused by it all.

With a sigh, you turned to the team, eyes easily finding blond-dyed hair. "Miya Atsumu,"

The setter straightens at the sound of his name. "Y-Yes?"

Lifting your lips up, a gentle smile filled your face.  "Congratulations, you've been selected to join the All-Japan Youth Camp." You say with a smile – a true, genuine, and proud smile, despite knowing that you were the last person he’d like to hear it from.

Something in Atsumu starts at the sight of it.

It took a second for him to process your words, before he burst into joy. “Y-Yosha!”

Congratulations were tossed his way left and right from his teammates. Beside you, it seemed as though it finally came to the coaches as they sheepishly scratched the back of their heads, avoiding your gaze.

"W-Wait, how about 'Samu?" Atsumu asked, directing his question to you.

The smile on your face thinned. "Sadly, there's an invite for only one Miya."

Interestingly enough, Osamu’s only reaction was to blink, his gray-brown eyes becoming distant.

"B-But-"

"Should you have any concerns or queries, feel free to approach any of the coaches." There was a finality to your tone, causing the older men to jump.

“A-Ah, right. Thank you for that, (L/N).” says Coach Kurosu, smiling at you, apologetically and gratefully. He got a nod from you. “Again, congratulations Atsumu. Now for the rest of y’all, I don’t want the rest of you slacking behind just because of this, y’hear me?”

“No coach,” they replied.

“Alright, good. Dismissed.”

(A few days before his leave for Tokyo, Atsumu was at school with a rare free period shared with Osamu, Suna, and Ginjima. They all decided to head to the library, in lieu of studying but to loiter in actuality.

Atsumu was gushing to the brim, excitement in his bones to meet some interesting volleyball players from all across the nation. Heck, he might even see that one annoying player with the wicked spins on his serves.

“Ah, that’s Itachiyama’s Sakusa,” Ginjima says.

“Isn’t he one of the top high school aces in the country?” Osamu asked, voice thinly veiled with curiosity.

“Actually, he’s the top ace.” Suna said without looking up from his phone, fingers tapping and sliding every few seconds.

“Shit, for real?”

“He even beat Aran!”

A loud shush sounded off, the student librarian glaring at their table. The four boys quieted down, Osamu shoving at his twin, who retaliated with his own shove before Ginjima stepped in to break it off.

“Man, I’m gonna meet a buncha interesting people!” the setter gushes, he was practically radiating it off. In all their years playing volleyball, this was actually the first time that Atsumu was going alone. Although they talked it out with his twin, Atsumu sharing it with his brother and friends make it believable that he isn’t alone in this, it was enough to fill his spirits. (Nobody tell him he’s lonely about going alone, though)

“Just don’t go off starting a ruckus,” Osamu stands from his seat, because the student assistant was glaring holes into their table. He comes back a moment later with some books in his hands, a mix of cookbooks, sports, and literature books.

From his seat, the student assistant looked appeased by the sight of books before turning back to his duties. Their group exchanged snickers, returning to their idle state.

Just then, through the open doors, Ginjima caught sight of you passing by “Ah, it’s manager.”

Atsumu never turned so quickly on his life – which the Ginjima found rather comical – indeed finding you out the hallway uniform nice and tidy as always, not a hair out of place, with arms filled with textbooks.

With Kusakabe beside you.

It made his blood boil for some reason, seeing the two of you together – when there were a few other classmates as well. You’ve become close with Mr. Four-Eyes, it seems.

“Ah, she chose an extra class, right?”

“That’s right.” Osamu answered with a nod. “Chemistry, I believe.” To which everyone deflated at, it was a science with a bunch of math. Yet, unsurprisingly, it was rather fitting for you. It shouldn't also surprise them that you chose to add an extra class instead of having free time like them. College prep kids were built different, it seems.

Recovering, Ginjima watches the back of your head as he comments. “Ah, I keep forgetting manager’s in a college prep class.”

“Wasn’t her big sister in one, too?” asked Suna, looking up for once, chin resting on his folded arms.

When you were out of sight, Atsumu turned back to his group. “I think so? She was in Class 5?”

“Manager’s in Class 7, though.” Ginjima stated.

Suna scoffs. “There’s just a 2 difference.”

“Aren’t they just the same, though?” Atsumu frowned, now recalling how each of the (L/N) siblings were intellectuals. Mika, you, and Kaoru were all in honor’s classes, with you being in the classes for all of your middle school, junior high, and probably all of high school. Kaoru might even follow in your footsteps if he can balance soccer and his studies.

“Pretty much, I guess.”

“Nah, (Y/N)’s the smarter sibling.” Osamu answered again, rather smoothly almost defensively. “She’s been part of the top students since middle school.”

Ginjima and Suna hums, with the latter going back to browsing his phone.

“Osamu, you know a great deal about manager, huh?”

The corner of his lips twitch, briefly meeting his twin’s gaze before plucking a random book from their stack. “Yeah well, she’s my best friend.”

My best friend, Osamu says. Not ‘our’.

Ah, yeah, there was that. He couldn’t share the joy with you anymore.)

Walking down the busy hall, students flocking every corner, you carefully maneuvered even without looking up. What’s more, you were at the third year’s floor – which should intimidate lower year levels, but not you.

Glancing you, you found Class 5 and approached the door.

“Excuse me,” you asked the student closest to the door. “Is Aran-san around?”

“Ojiro?” turning to the room, the student called out. “Hmm, ah, there he is. Oi, Ojiro, someone’s here for you!”

As soon as he was called, a tall figure stands from his seat, eyes widening at the sight of you. He raises a hand as he approaches. “Yo, (Y/N), what’s up?”

“Ah, we’ve run low on some supplies,” you reported, hands folded behind you.

Almost immediately, he falls into vice-captain mode. “Yes, that! Well, don’t worry about inventory check because Shinsuke and I did them for you.”

“Really?" unconsciously, your shoulders relaxed. "That’s a relief.”

Aran's whole face softens down at you. “Hey, as captain and vice-captain, we’re both obliged to at least ease our manager’s burdens. We can help out, too, y'know?” You had to smile at that. “Just gimme a sec, I’ll get the list.”

You watch Aran walk back to his seat, leaving you alone to look around his classroom. It was no different than yours, except there was a certain feel to it. In fact, everyone in the room - although were, very much like you, students - had a feel that was different about them. Third years, huh?

“Here we go,” Aran returns with some papers in his hands.

“Thank you very much,”

“Now, don’t forget to ask the coaches-“

“Will do. By the way, how’s your little sister?” A little small talk couldn’t hurt, right?

The older teen sort of frowns, the same frown he uses on the twins. “I swear, the older she gets the more she’s getting on my nerves!”

“I’m so sorry to hear that,” you stifled a laugh, failingly. If you remember correctly, Aran’s little sister was just Kaoru’s age.

“Yeah, yeah, laugh about it all you want.” Sighing, he threw his hands in the air. “Why can’t she be more like you?”

“Cold, stoic, barely human?”

He sputtered, gesticulating rather dramatically. “Oi!”

“It’s the truth.”

Grumbling, he clears his throat, fixes himself into his big brother persona, arms folded over his chest for added effect. “I wish she was more collected and responsible, like you.”

“A ringing endorsement from one of the top high school aces, I’m flattered.”

Sharing laughter, he reached over to ruffle his hand over your head. “You at least deserve to be complimented every once in a while.”

You hum, warmed by his words. "You could at least just talk it out with her, that's how I deal with Kaoru."

"Yeah, but she doesn't take me seriously."

"Neither does Kaoru," Aran looks surprised by this, you can't blame him, your younger brother was a brat and a lot to deal with. "However, it does help to aptly remind him time and time again of his misdemeanor. You most certainly have to be strict with managing him but also respect their feelings. In addition, you must speak to them like a child and not a subject of some sort."

For some reason, he felt a chill run down his spine. "S-Sheesh, you sound like Shinsuke when you say that."

Unable to help yourself, the corner of your mouth lifts into a smirk-like smile. "Who do you think taught me all those?"

His expression flattens, eyes shut as it comes to him. "Ah. Man. Geez."

He then sighs in defeat, shoulders lifting and dropping. "Still wished she turned out like you, (Y/N)."

"Trust me, you don't want a boring little sister. Anyway, good luck with her though."

"Will do, thanks for the tips," he mutters a few things under his breath, something like a prayer.

Tucking the papers aside, you just about turned to leave when you nearly run into someone.

“Atsumu, watch where you’re going ya lug!” Aran says behind you. 

“S-Sorry-“ he looks down, eyes widening when he realizes he crashed into you, you blink back in concern. “S-Sorry-!”

“No, I’m sorry for not paying attention to my surroundings.” Taking a step back, you found Osamu, Suna, and Ginjima behind him - giving them all a bow before walking away.

Before he left for Tokyo though, both your families had a little get-together at the Miya residence.

To say it was awkward was an understatement, especially because of the rift between you and one particular twin, and because the family didn't exactly know about the situation - but you managed by helping around whilst the twins (plus Kaoru) played some games.

“Don’t you want to join them?” the Miya matriarch asked you kindly.

Over at the living room, the boys were loudly cheering, eyes glued to their game, Kaoru nestled between the twins.

You shook your head, focusing on chopping the vegetables. “I’m fine.” Cooking helped calmed you, busying your hands and sense of smell and taste helped calmed your nerves. Meticulously following through recipes in your head, focusing only on making delectable dishes for all.

As much as you can, you didn't want the family to notice something between you and Atsumu, didn't want to ruin the already bright atmosphere because of his success, didn't want to ruin his day, didn't want to ruin his reputation because of you.

Dinner was a quiet affair between the families, congratulating Atsumu over and over for qualifying for the All-Japan Youth Camp. Osamu heartily ate, sitting next to you, Atsumu to his other side. With his twin as the star of the feast, you saw him brimming with pride and a bit of shyness - especially in the presence of family. It made you smile, but only for a quick while.

So you ate quietly, keeping your head low.

It was already worth knowing how quiet you were unless asked a question. Nobody seemed to mind, used to your quiet presence.

"Kaoru, eat properly," you berate, reaching over, napkin in hand to wipe your brother's face.

It's also known that you were such a caring person - sister, most especially.

"You're almost an adolescent now and still you eat like a child." There was rice on his shirt on his table, how embarrassing. How is he 12?

"Nee-san, please!" At that, the adults laugh, seemingly used to it all. Even Atsumu laughed in. "I'm not a baby!"

"You'll always be a baby to us, brother boy." Atsumu teased your little brother, booping his nose with his finger.

Groaning, Kaoru angrily puts down his bowl and chopsticks, swatting you and Atsumu's hands away. The adults laugh again, especially at the combined forces of you and Atsumu.

The blond-dyed teen meets your eye, time freezing for a moment, you kept thinking of them as brown when they were actually honey brown. It was hard to look away from them, especially with how he took you in. Something kickstarted in your chest.

Clearing your throat, you quickly sit back, he does the same. Osamu fills his plate and yours too.

Feeling a vibration in your pocket, you take out your phone, eyes widening at a notification.

"Ah, Mi-" unsure how to address him, especially because the adults and Kaoru were there, you cleared your throat again, capturing everyone's attention, including Atsumu's. "Mika-nee sends her congratulations."

Like magic, his whole face lights up like a Christmas tree. Misery, it was it feels like, followed by a thousand arrows shot through your already fragile heart.

"She furthers that, 'she knew you could do it. Have fun in Tokyo,' it was a miracle how firm you kept your tone, in its usual monotonous tone. "And 'hello to everyone, I miss you all.'"

The adults then turn to tease Atsumu, Osamu reminding his twin that your sister was still with her boyfriend, resulting in them fighting. Bemused by their usual antics, the adults ask you questions about your sister's well-being, you answered as best you could before they began to talk amongst themselves about traveling, allowing you to wallow on the pain.

Yep, that was the Mika effect.

She could light up a room by just the mention of her name, amplifying the happiness of someone's achievement.

And who were you? Just a bystander. A ghost, even. Your words meant absolutely nothing, especially for Atsumu.

But - you peeked up, seeing him steal from Osamu's plate - at least it made him happy, right?

As much as it pained you, that smile on his face was everything.

"Nee-san, can you pass me some meat please?" Kaoru asks you politely, rice sticking to his cheeks.

Swallowing the pain, you robotically reach out and placed an ample amount into his waiting plate, grateful for the distraction.

Again, this was about Atsumu. Not about you.

Reaching over, you were just about to clean his face when he does it himself. "I can do it myself, nee-san." your little brother's grin was a mess, yet you couldn't find it in your heart to get mad, especially at the proud look on his still messy face.

With Atsumu gone for a whole week, and nationals coming up soon, practice as of late has been hectic and hard. Also, because the team was short of one Miya, it went quietly and peacefully – a strange and rather unnatural occurrence. That excuse any kind of indolence though, especially with nationals drawing near.

"Put your backs into it!" barked Coach Kurosu.

Somehow, because nationals were coming, practice went on slower than usual. And that was saying, you were still in the middle of winter.

The boys had to work themselves to the bone, beating the chilly winter breeze, pumping the blood in their veins. Each player gave their all, yelling out when both coaches couldn't hear them.

Blowing on your whistle, you called out. "Alright, take a 10-minute break." 

Never have you seen the whole gym deflate, thankfully.

Heck, it was only the first half of practice!

Water bottles were handed and consumed in record time, a few players even fell to the ground, legs raised against the wall.

"I'm gonna die!" 

"You're not going to die," you retort at the first year. "Just don't force yourself." The first year whines once more.

"There's a difference between forcing yourself and giving your all in a game," a cold voice added in, causing the first year to shoot up sitting. "That being said, you needn't need to slack off. Just play like you usually would."

"Y-Yes, Kita-san!"

Huffing you turned to your captain, who blinked back at you. 

"Good work today, captain."

"Practice is far from over, (L/N)." he mused, eyes bright.

Humming, you glance at the stopwatch - eight minutes had just passed. (E/c) eyes then drifted over the gym, over the heads of the club members, a sea of black and white practice uniform. This was a scene you were used to all of your two years as manager, for all of four seasons. 

Somehow, just looking out at it all, something felt missing.

No, not something - someone.

Someone with golden blond-dyed hair, bright honey brown eyes, a sly smirk, and astounding presence.

It was missing one Miya Atsumu.

Glancing back at the stopwatch, a minute had just passed you realized.

Lifting your head again, you were met with the same view. 

Sighing, you pocket the stopwatch and announce the remaining minutes of practice there was left. Frowning at nothing, you felt something tug at your ponytail. Looking over, you were met with a darker version of a person in your head - darker hair, darker eyes, same gentle eyes.

"Osamu, what's up?"

"Can you help me tape up?"

"...that's rare, you don't normally tape up your hands." you say, leading the two of you to where the first aid kid was.

"It's winter," was all he reasoned, almost in a grumble. Almost childishly.

It almost made you snort, that was usually his brother's complaint - as he was more particular with his hands and being a setter in general.

"(Y/N), please." he whined, causing you to roll your eyes.

"Yes, yes."

With one Miya short, it meant one was left behind - Osamu.

Even without his twin, he pretty much carried himself just fine. Between the two, he was much more independent. Atsumu was always the clingy twin.

And with his older twin away, that meant, more time with the lad. More time with your best friend.

But as the saying goes, two is better than one.

Two Miyas is better than one.

Still, you made the most out of it, since there was no way you coming in between the brothers.

“You said that chicken noodle soup is your ultimate comfort food, right?”

“Yeah. What about it?”

Osamu was silent for a moment, watching the steaming white rice in front of both of you. “Mine’s onigiri.”

For some reason, that surprised you. “Really? Not your mom’s-”

“Yeah.”

Hands washed, the two of you dug on to the bowl of rice, carefully shaping it in your hands. “That’s a surprise. You never told me that.”

Although, it did explain how after you moved in and met him, he was asking you to help him make onigiri. Much like now. Except with his chubby hands then, most of his end product ended up badly shaped, too soggy, bland, or lacking.

Years of practice saw to his improvement, with his onigiris being perfectly shaped, flavorful, and rich in texture enough to beat the rice balls at convenient stores. Not to mention that he’s grown a penchant for cooking, after being friends with you.

Rice was a rather versatile grain that has a lot of varieties, depending on how you choose to make use of it. Japanese dishes were mostly simple but made had a lot of intricacies that rivaled gourmet dishes. Onigiri had a lot of variants – white rice, wrapped, seasoned, mixed rice, fillings, to name a few.

But for Osamu, the humble white rice onigiri was his favorite.

It was worth noting that through the years you’ve watched him mold his rice – once, burning his hands because they were too hot or because he was too impatient – he seemed rather determined in the process. He shaped the onigiri as though he were holding something precious, taking careful means, making sure that he had the right amount of seaweed and mayonnaise.

Most of his onigiris were huge, like the size of his hand. Well, he was an athlete and a huge glutton – so those two combinations spoke plenty. However, when he finally finished his first perfect onigiri, something crossed his eyes – it sent a twinge in your heart, seeing so much emotion in those usually guarded eyes of his.

“Osamu?”

The boy just stared at his onigiri for a while, as though in disbelief. Upon closer inspection, he looked as though he were in a daze.

“…have I ever told you why it’s my comfort food?”

There seemed a weight to his words, shown in the way his eyes glazed over a simple homemade rice ball. People have different ways of expressing themselves, some through writing, some through sports, some even through cooking.

Osamu conveyed his feelings through cooking, it seems.

Turning to face him, you wore a gentle smile. “I would very much like to hear it.”

Meeting your gaze, slowly, his lips lift into a smile.

Over a plate of perfectly made onigiris, Osamu tells you a story of his first love.

There was a knock at your door, followed by the doorknob turning. “Nee-san,” came your little brother’s voice, accompanied by crinkling plastic. “here.”

Flipping on to the next page, busily writing into your notebook,  was all he got. You barely looked up from your notes!

Miffed, he tried calling you again, “Nee-san!” he dragged on the first syllable, doing the same with the last syllable with a baby voice. To no avail, much to Kaoru’s disappointment.

Though you were wearing earbuds, normally Kaoru would hear soft, gentle tunes playing off it, so you could still hear him. Only, you were really into your notes, as though your own brother wasn’t in the same room as you.

Puffing his cheeks, he paddled up towards you, poking you in the cheek. “Nee-san,” Much more disappointed and annoyed, he looks at the plastic in his bag, carefully lifts it up until the cold plastic touches your cheek, the touch shocking you instantly.

“Ah, Kaoru,” You gently pushed him away from you, pulling your earbuds off, rubbing at your cold cheek. “what are you doing here?”

“I knocked!” his cheeks were still puffed, the (adorable) frown on his face easing. “Here.” He raises the plastic earlier to you, at an eye level.

Bubble tea.

Blinking, you carefully take it from your brother’s hands. “Who’s it from?”

“Atsumu-nii and Osamu-nii.”

Your brows furrowed at that. “Both of them?”

“Yep! I have one, too!” he showed his own drink, heartily sipping from it, unaware of the questioning look in your face and tone.

You would understand if Osamu bought it, but Atsumu? And Kaoru, as much of a brat he can be at times, hardly lied – at least to your face. And he loved the Miya twins. He was also scared of lying to your face.

“We’re about to eat dinner, though.” You berate, especially at the amount of sugar in his drink. “When did they give it?”

“Just minutes ago! Atsumu-nii handed it over because Osamu-nii had to make dinner.” Ah, so that confirms it then.

Humming, you take the drink in your hand. “Thanks, Kaoru.”

The little boy toothily grins. “You’re welcome, nee-san!” rushing to the door, he turns to tell you, “I’ll come back when dinner’s ready!”

“Yeah, thanks.”

With a click, you were alone in your room once more. Music softly played from your earbuds, homework sitting idly.

Surprisingly, the drink was still cold. Just how long ago did they buy this?

Atsumu and Osamu bought this, you remind yourself, twisting the drink in your hand, fiddling with the straw with your other hand. Straightening your drink, you punctured your straw in.

Taking a sip, you let the flavors settle in your tongue before swallowing. “…not too sweet, just salty enough.” Just the way you like it.

Twirling the drink in your hand, it just occurred to you that today was Atsumu's return from Tokyo.

masterlist • seven

[wizardofrozz]

Welcome to Westview!

Warnings: flashbacks, mentions of past trauma, swearing

A/N: This chapter is kind of sad so be aware and I’m sorry ahead of time 😭 also thank you guys for appreciating my drawings lol 😁

Chapter 15

Bucky POV

I walked away from the group, glancing over my shoulder once, swallowing back the bile rising up. I wandered down a few streets, smiling at the kids passing as I looked for Vision. Turning down the fourth street, I scanned the crowds of kids and adults looking for my friend; I sighed when I still didn’t see him and started to walk again. I noticed fewer people were out the farther I walked, but the sun was going down, so I figured people were probably heading home. Halfway down the street, I saw a bright yellow cape fluttering in the breeze, and I instantly knew it was Vision. I took off jogging to catch up with him, weaving around kids and their parents.

           “Vis!” I yelled as I got closer. Vision turned around, glancing around until his eyes found me; despite the growing darkness, I saw panic flashed across his face in the glow of the streetlight.

           “Bucky,” Vision greeted, his tone sounding guarded.

           “I, uh, came to help you,” I mumbled, falling in step with him. Vision nodded but stayed silent as we turned down the street that led to Ellis Ave. The walk was quiet, but not just because of the lack of conversation between us; there wasn’t the faint chatter of people talking even though we could see them standing around. “Vision?”

           “What is going on?” Vision looked around, not bothering to hide the fear written all over his face.

           “I was about to ask you the same thing,” I breathed. I followed Vision towards a woman standing in the grass nearby and watched him try to get her attention, but she seemed frozen in place. A haunted look swirled in Vision’s eyes when he looked towards me again; anxiety rolled in my stomach along with a sudden surge of anger. “Vision, what the fuck is going on!”

           “I don’t know,” Vision croaked, meeting my eyes. I took a step back when I saw the gut-wrenching terror that seemed to leak out of every pore of his body. “You’ve noticed it?” Vision closed the space between us, stopping only a few inches from me, his blazing eyes piercing into me, and I couldn’t look away no matter how hard I tried.

           “Something’s wrong, Vis. I don’t know what, but I have this uneasy feeling that never goes away.” I let out the breath I didn’t realize I was holding in when Vision seemed to relax slightly, his head dropping forward. My eyes widened when Vision’s Halloween costume melted into something that looked eerily similar but more lifelike.

           “I suspected Clint noticed too,” Vision sighed. “James, I’m going to lift whatever control you’re under. Is that okay?” Vision lifted his arms, his fingers ghosting over my temples, but his eyes softened as he waited for me to answer.

           “Do it,” I grunted, squeezing my eyes shut. Vision’s fingers rested on my temples for a moment, but I didn’t notice after a few seconds. Images of my life flashed across my eyelids, the memories becoming more horrifying as the seconds passed. I saw Steve and me marching an army of POWs back to camp during the war. I felt the weightlessness of falling from the train again; the pain of the impact shot through my spine. I screamed, grabbing my head, and falling to my knees when the electrical currents coursed through my skull. I faintly heard Vision calling for me, but my mouth refused to open. A slideshow of faces flashed across my eyes but never long enough to recognize anyone. I remembered fighting Steve, pulling him from the water, and hiding in Romania until the UN bombing. Everything Zemo did. The Starks along with the look on Tony’s face when he found out. The memories started to move faster, becoming only flashes of me fighting the Avengers alongside Steve, the cryotube in Wakanda, then seeing Steve again. Thanos, the Snap, and the moment I turned to dust played out across my eyelids. The last memory was watching Steve disappear on the travel pad before I sent Sam off to talk to the clearly aged Steve sitting by the lake.

           “James!” Vision begged. I slowly opened my eyes, finding them blurry with tears and my dark hair hanging in my face; I dropped my hands from my head, letting them fall onto my legs. The streetlight caught the metal of my left hand, the gold sparkling back at me. I closed my eyes again as sobs shook my shoulders and wiped at the wetness on my cheeks.

           “None of it’s real,” I rasped, lifting my head to look at Vision.

           “I-I’m so sorry,” Vision whispered, setting a hand on my shoulder. I slumped forward, trying to collect myself and swallow down the pain tearing at my heart; I let Vision’s touch ground me. When his hand fell away, I tensed, unable to meet his eyes, and my heart sank again.

           “Vision, you’re dead,” I whispered, flinching. I looked up, blinking at the empty space in front of me; I glanced around, finding Vision floating a couple of hundred feet above me, scanning the horizon.

           “James!” Vision looked down at me, pointing somewhere behind me; I glanced over my shoulder, my gaze falling on the car stopped at the intersection. Vision took off, soaring through the air towards the car; I took a deep breath and pushed myself to my feet again. I stumbled, blinking a few times at my arm; I threw my head back, shouting at the dark sky when I realized my equilibrium was thrown off. Again! Really! I rolled my eyes, stumbling along, willing my body to steady again, but the weight on my left side kept pulling me off balance. I finally made it to the side of the car, where I heard Agnes cackling at a mortified Vision, but it abruptly stopped.

           “I will fix this, Agnes. I promise,” Vision whispered, taking a step away from the car.

           “Okey-dokey neighbor. Happy Halloweenie!” Agnes made a U-turn on Ellis Ave and started back towards the center of town. We watched her taillights disappear, but neither of us made a move; staring down the now-empty street, I rolled my left shoulder, grunting at the sudden strain on my shoulder. The movements of my left arm were jerky as the plates ground together, and the gears squealed; I huffed, spinning my arm in a windmill motion to recalibrate it. A sigh of relief fell from my lips when my fingers curled into a fist smoothly.

           “James…” Vision muttered, his eyes looking anywhere but at me.

           “What’s up, Vis?” Vision wandered closer, but his head was on a swivel, looking for any sign of movement.

           “Is everyone else…all of our friends…are they d-dead too?” I tried not to flinch, but I couldn’t help it as memories flashed through my head.

           “Clint, Thor, and (Y/N) are alive,” I whispered. “How did Wanda do this?”

           “I don’t know,” Vision mumbled, his shoulder tensing. “What is an Avenger?”

           “The Avengers. That’s us,” I replied, squinting at him.

           “But what are they?” Vision just blinked at me, waiting for an answer.

           “You don’t remember anything from before Westview, do you?” He seemed to think for a moment before shaking his head. “The Avengers are a team of superheroes. Steve and I are super-soldiers, Loki is the God of Mischief, but he and (Y/N) are sorcerers like Wanda, Thor is the God of Thunder, Clint is a master marksman, and Natasha is an assassin.”

           “And I was part of this team” -he made air quotes around ‘team’- “before Westview.”

           “Yeah, until everything went to shit,” I sighed, running a hand through my hair, wincing when my fingers caught a knot.

           “But I’m dead,” Vision whispered.

           “…yes,” I confessed, dropping my head. “I can fill you in on everything.”

           “Yes, but later. First, I need to see what’s outside Westview.” Vision straightened his shoulder and turned away from me, walking towards the open field.

           “Vis, wait!” I yelled, clumsily jogging after him. “Are you sure this is a good idea?”

           “These people need help, James. They’re suffering,” Vision called over his shoulder, keeping his pace. I rolled my eyes and ran faster, moving past him to get in his way; I walked backward in front of him, trying to reason with him. I amazingly managed to keep myself stable despite the extra weight on my left side.

           “Vis, hold on,” I urged. I opened my mouth to talk again, but I stopped short when I heard the hum from behind me. When I looked behind me, I could see the faint static of a barrier; I glanced up, my eyes following the barrier towards the sky, and I instantly thought of Wakanda. “What the hell is this?”

           “It seems to cover the perimeter of the town.” Vision eyed the barrier one more time before reaching out; the whining of the static intensified as Vision pushed through.

           “No!” I yelled for him, but it was too late; Vision disappeared into the flickering barrier. “Damnit!” I growled, rolling my eyes. I took a deep breath, lifting my left hand towards the barrier but hesitated. “Please don’t kill me,” I whispered. I shoved my hand into the wall and froze; I could feel the vibration travel up my arm to my shoulder, but that was it. I tentatively pushed in past my wrist, gritting my teeth when the barrier seemed to push back. I made it to my elbow, and suddenly unrelenting currents of electricity coursed through my body. I screamed, loud and panicked, tasting blood almost instantly at the power of the sound. I frantically pulled at my arm, my vision swimming as I tumbled towards unconsciousness when unexpectedly the barrier spit me. I landed with a thud; my left arm spasmed, the barrier causing it to malfunction, was the last thing I remembered before everything went dark.

Chapter 16 | Series Masterlist

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