#this idea has invaded my head and I don’t know how else to explain

[opossumpal]

Dr March, Francine Langstrom, Kirk Langstrom 🤝 Gertrude Robinson, Gerry Keay, Michael Shelley/Distortion

[heartfeltcherie]

i had this idea pop into my head a couple nights ago and i finally put it into words! hope u all enjoy <33

wc 662

☾. °.   ࿐  ` , •

yet another meeting.

charlie had gathered everyone in the hotel’s lounge area for a rundown of new team building exercises that she wanted to explain to everyone. it wasn’t that you weren’t interested in helping out, you were.

it was just the fact that the couch cushions you were currently sat on were providing the utmost comfort and it also wasn’t helping that you were trying not to nod off in between sentences — you swear you closed your eyes at “trust fall exercises” and opened them back up at “writing out your feelings is also important”

and then there was the red radio demon you were sat beside.

alastor.

everyone feared his presence, wouldn’t dare to even look in his direction. but the way he was with everyone else, he wasn’t the same way towards you. you didn’t know how to describe it; sitting beside him right now, you felt a sort of… warmth. and of course with that usual smile he has plastered on his face, you don’t know which emotion he’s feeling.

but it doesn’t make you wanna run away and hide. instead, you feel contentment. you feel safe next to him, even though you know that he could have you dead in cold blood within seconds.

and this is perhaps the fifth time he’s watched you, out of the corners of his eyes, nod off for what seems like five seconds, only to almost jolt awake again in what seems like… panic? oh you poor little thing.

“you know, cher” he’s not even focused on charlie’s tangent anymore, instead on you, the tired little doe that can barely keep her eyes open. he still keeps his eyes trained forward. “if you’re feeling so out of sorts, i could provide you with a tad bit more comfort, if you truly desired” his voice is a low whisper, careful not to disturb the other hotel stayers as he’d rather not bring attention to the fact that he maybe cares about someone. how preposterous.

you look up at alastor through your tired eyes. he has one leg crossed over the other, his hands resting on his kneecap — you think he looks so handsome sitting this close to you. he meets your gaze with a turn of his head, careful not to cause such a commotion as he glances between you and his shoulder.

oh?

it’s a very sweet gesture. especially coming from the radio demon himself because you know he hates when people invade his privacy. and even though you’ve always wondered what it’s like to fully be in his touch…

you’re scared, shy, all of the above.

and you think the dust of pink on your cheeks gives it all away.

“no need to get so bashful on me, sweetheart, it’s just a simple gesture. besides i can’t have a belle like you being exhausted all day, now can i, hm?”

alastor trains his focus back towards charlie as you shyly take his offer, slowly laying your head down on his suit-clad shoulder and it’s… very cozy, you decide. the small amount of contact feels very serene as you nuzzle your cheek against his shoulder. and god forbid anyone looks in your direction, otherwise you probably wouldn’t hear the end of it. especially angel dust who’s been bugging you about your little crush on the radio demon.

you decide to go a bit further and link your arm around his, only for a bit more warmth your mind declares is the perfect excuse while your heart fluttering in your tummy, watching for any disapproval alastor has. but he shows none. it’s the greatest feeling in the world to be this close to him. you shouldn’t get used to this… but god, do you want to, so bad.

“you gonna put me to bed too after this?” you whisper jokingly in alastor’s ear, seeing his ear twitch just the slightest. how can an overlord be this adorable?

“don’t push your luck, cher”

please reblog/comment if you enjoyed my work, it’s greatly appreciated ♡

[hotchfiles]

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ❝ the mood i'm in ❞ ─ an adhd chronicles blurb

pairing: aaron hotchner x fem!adhd!reader. summary: sometimes rearranging a whole entire closet is a biological need. content warnings: fluff, adhd antics (i'm diagnosed don't try to come for me) word count: 600+. a/n: this was requested by @ficmeoutofthisworld and i felt the need to make a blurb!verse of it, so expect more fluff for these three 🩵 & the idea of jack calling you honey came from honey is for love by @angellsell

      “Daddy, honey has that weird look again.” Aaron can’t help but smile at his little boy, putting the files he was working on down on his desk, telling him to come closer with his hands. Jack had gotten into the habit of calling you honey very early on in your relationship, that being one of the pet names Aaron used the most when talking to you. It was too endearing to correct him, even after you moved in. You both just let the boy be, knowing that he would call you by name once he got older.

      You didn’t mind him not calling you mom or any of its variants, even if the relationship you shared now was much alike mother and child, Jack didn’t remember a lot of Haley by himself, he was too little, but Aaron always did his best to keep her memory alive in him, so if for his young mind it was easier to call you a pet name, you would take it every single time with a smile. And so would Aaron. 

      “What look, buddy?” He asks even though he’s sure he knows the answer, having been through that a few times over the last two years. 

      “She’s staring at my stuff and sitting on the floor.” Bingo. Every once in a while you would get obsessed with something, it made sense after you were diagnosed with ADHD and he learnt how to accommodate you properly, but for a while it was just a big clash of his organized and controlling nature and your chaotic mind. 

      “Let’s see what she needs, okay?” Jack nods, leading the way with his dad closely behind. They find you exactly as his boy explained to him, sitting with your legs crossed on the floor, staring at his wardrobe so attentively it might scare the unknown eye. 

      “Darling? What’s going on?” He asks without entering the room, not wanting to invade your space before you called him in, instead he decided to lean on the door frame, observing you with his kind eyes.

      “I want to rearrange all of Jack’s clothes but we need more hangers for that and I don’t want to go to the store just to buy hangers, but I also can’t get up to go to the kitchen and check what else we need.” You answered quickly, finishing your ramble with a huff, dropping your shoulders and looking at your fiancé with a pout that made him get closer to you, offering his hands so you could have some support while getting up, you lazily do it, being embraced by him as soon as your feet touch the ground. 

      “Go watch something with Jack, okay?” His tone is always soft, as if your conversations, even the silliest and mundane ones, were secrets for you two to keep. He knew you too well, so he prevented the whine he knew would come–you wanted to get this done, you needed to rearrange Jack’s clothes or the itch in your brain wouldn’t leave–and he did so by holding both of your cheeks with his hands, making you look at him. “I’ll make the shopping list and then you both can go to Target while I get some reports done.” You nod happily, his hands moving with your head. 

      Telling you to watch something with Jack could seem like a mindless choice of words, but it wasn’t, Aaron knew you were feeling stuck and how bad that made you feel, you needed a dopamine kick before you could do something, and no better way for that than colorful silly shows with your favorite boy.

      By the time he’s done with the shopping list, you had already started another important project: Napping on the couch with Jack. So he leaves it attached with a magnet on the fridge, gives you both soft forehead kisses and goes back to work, not minding the fact he did it quickly for no reason, happy you were resting and that it was done for when you decided to shop.

[dearabby1990]

Daryl Dixon x Reader request (Whispers Part 2)

You sped down the dark road letting the tears finally burn your eyes. Several parts of you stolen away time and time again. Your mom your father Carl Rick your baby and now your only blood family member left. It hurt in ways you’ll never comprehend. What you didn’t know is that back at home Carol and Daryl were having the argument of a lifetime. “So she keeps all tha from me assuming a bunch of bullshit and then takes the fuck off & you of all people tell me to leave her the hell alone?!” She slammed her mug against the countertop “Well Daryl while you were out there chasing fucking ghosts the rest of us were here dealing with REAL WORLD shit. I feel partially to blame for suggesting she go tell you and talk it out. You’re out there making a new life finding a new family and throw us away like trash like all we’ve survived together meant nothing! You should’ve saw the state I found her in! It’s a miracle she’s even still here sobbing asking God why he had to take the baby and you and how unfair it is that she’s even alive! She tried to take her life that night! But what would you know about that out finding yourself something better or did you just want to have your cake and eat it too like every other guy! I thought I knew you better then this… but apparently I don’t know you at all….” She left him no time to answer walking straight upstairs into her bedroom locking the door behind herself. He stands there letting everything sink in feelings of sadness guilt anger pain he couldn’t bare something else happening to you he grabbed his bag & crossbow and headed towards his bike heading towards the gate where Rosita stands at the entrance “you really think it’s a good idea to follow her right now?… I think she needs space Daryl” he scoffs “space ma ass I’d rather her be angry and safe then hurt or lost somewhere” she rolls her eyes at him “she’s stronger then you think” she says “ain’t say she wasn’t strong just dun want nothin else happenin to er” with that he revs up speeding following your tire tracks. A few miles of tracking you he noticed a skid in the road where your tracks stop a weird piece of barbed wire wrapped in your front tire as he finds your bike on the side of the road laying on its side in a small ditch. Following the drag marks he notices your bag looking into it finding it’s been emptied the rest of your things ransacked he walks a little further seeing dragged footprints not knowing if it was from you or the dead. His heart pounding he runs grabs what little of your things are left and tied his red rag to a tree branch to mark the area before hopping onto his bike and taking off back home to alert the others. He speeds faster then he ever has different senecios invading his thoughts. Skidding to the gate his arms frantically waiving at Ezekiel and Gabriel to open up and let him in the moment he pulls in he alerts Ezekiel to alert the others wake up everyone we have a situation on our hands and need an emergency meeting. Michonne still in pajamas running towards Daryl seeing his destraught state the sadness in his eyes. “What’s going on?” I’ll let y’all know once everyone’s gathered round I don’t think I can explain it twice” he says as his voice cracks she rests her hand on his shoulder guiding him inside of her house where everyone is going to meet. “Alrigh’ now that y’all are here you’re aware y/n took off mad at no fault but my own regardless I tracked her as far as I could somethin is definitely wrong her bike was in a ditch barbed wire in the front tire heres her bag it was picked through and the rest ransacked there were drag marks but it was too dark to tell if they were hers or the dead so at sunrise we set up in groups start a search party split up take the walkies” he steps back hands shaking Carol steps forward handing him a glass a whiskey which he appreciates very much.

Sleep didn’t come for most that night Tara taking it upon herself to make everyone breakfast pulling out ingredients while Daryl sets up the pot of coffee. She sighs looking annoyed his back towards her he replies “wha?” Tara sets down the bowl of pancake batter she'd been stirring "You better fuckin make it right" she said sternly "You find her bring her home fix your bullshit and make it right before you lose her for good because there's plenty of people here who'd kill to know what to be loved by her is like". He looks at her with a scowl "Oh yea and who are these assholes ill break his fuckin legs!" Tara laughs"You really are an idiot ya know that? When you left and she fell apart we helped build each other back up her with her shit and me grieving Denise... Y/n's been the only person to pull me out of my shit as I'm sure she's done for you because that's the kind of person she is.... But like I was saying if you don't fix it and treat her right I'll beat your fuckin ass to a pulp and treat her the way she deserves even if she doesn't feel the same way about me her loving friendship is enough for me so quit ruining everything chasing shit that's long gone before she's long gone too" Tara retrieved the mixing bowl as Daryl gathered the other's. He leaves the room letting her words roll around his head like a game of boggle while going around gathering everyone up to come up with a plan. Once everyone is at Michonne’s eating and getting their fill of caffeine packing their bags and checking their weapons Daryl steps forward in the center of the room “Alrigh’ I know where her bike is so we start from there but split into groups of four to cover more ground me Michonne Carol and Ezekiel in one group Tara Maggie Gabe and Aaron in another can group Connie her sister and those other two as a group and head out in 30… as soon as that sun starts to rise we’re outta here we got one mission bringing y/n back in one piece and uninjured”. Little footsteps can be heard entering the room “Mommy is aunt y/n is in trouble I wanna help… I wanna fight all she’s done for us all it’s the least i could do” tears brim her eyes as her mom kneels to her level putting her hands onto her shoulders “sweetie it’s far too dangerous we don’t know what or who we’re dealing with and myself and aunt Jamie would never forgive ourselves if something happened to you”. She bows her head nodding while digging in her pocket “can you at least give her this? I made it for her for her birthday but lost it I just found it this morning I’d really like her to wear it to keep her safe and so that we have a part of each other” a necklace braided with leather strands off a pair of y/n’s old leather pants in a trunk of clothes her and Jude would play dress up in together attached two feathers and a pink stone “It’s a pink Peruvian I found it when I was digging around when aunt Jamie and uncle Daryl took me and rj fishing one time…. It represents gentleness, inner peace, emotional healing, gentle love and gives the wearer a sense of calmness… she deserves all that and even more.. sorry I’ve been reading a lot but please make sure she gets it mom.. promise me?” Michonne smiles “I promise” she kisses her daughter putting the necklace safely away in her bag wiping her eyes “Eugene you and the elders have the children everyone else let’s move out!”

Meanwhile your current state

Your vision still not fully clear all you can think of is the unbearable throbbing pain in your head and knowing your hands are tied because your wrists feel as if they’d been ran through with a belt sander. As you start to see clearer you notice a camp not the best looking place it smelled of rot and the energy there alone was enough to make your insides curl. Watching dirty covered people walking about and one teenage girl couldn’t be older then 15 at most. She kept sneaking looks at you the moment she saw you awake. The others seemed be busy so she quickly crawled over to where you were “Look I know you have no reason to trust me but I don’t want to hurt you…. I don’t even know why Mama took you well Alpha if she catches me calling her anything other then that I’ll be in trouble again but… quick before someone sees take some of my water” she lifts the canteen to your dry cracked lips you chug as much as she’ll allow you to “here hold on hurry eat this” she pulls out an apple cutting a few chunks off giving you the pieces one at a time. You side eye her “thanks… but why you helpin me?” She sighed whispering lower “I gotta plan she wants to find your camp im gonna lead them away from where y’all live and hopefully they leave you with James because he’s not the smartest and you could run for it”. Alpha steps forward and the girl hurried away “I hope you’ve not spoken to my daughter or anyone for that matter… you only answer to me I’m alpha and we’re the whispers we walk amongst the dead as intended this land is ours theres… but not yours tsk tsk no girl… now you’re gonna start off by telling me your name girl” you roll your eyes at her “y/n but everyone calls me tnt” she cackles at you before stopping after a moment making the most stone frozen malicious glare you’ve ever seen. Her head shaven down completely to the scalp the way she cocks her neck as if she were a drunken chicken trying to pick a fight. Thing she doesn’t know yet she’s pickin a fight with the wrong mother fucker. She steps towards you slowly suddenly a tall man with long matted hair wearing the skin of the dead came stomping through she whips her head towards him “now everyone let’s see what we can get out of this precious little thing here because if she doesn’t tell us what we want well… I’m just gonna have to get beta to make my new face and oh do I love that hair of yours” as she runs her dirty fingers along your hair and face before shoving your head against the tree knocking you right back out.

Back with the group

Daryl touches your bike holding in all his emotions everyone’s discussing directions and double checking walkies. Connie sees him and frowns walking up to him tapping his shoulder to get his attention he turns head hung slightly low peering at her through his lashes she signs to him “don’t worry we’ll find her and you’ll be able to fix this she loves you and you love her I can feel and see it I may be deaf but I’m not stupid” he stands up “I just hope there’s something to fix I messed up I went looking for Rick I took shelter in another woman’s home I wasn’t there when she lost our baby and now….” He chokes up turning his face away she taps him harder getting him to look back the tears slowly flowing “and now she’s probably either hurt or in trouble or…. Or even worse the thought of it makes me sick if she dun want me after we get her home I’ll be lost without er” Connie makes a gesture of being strong and being loving too “You can be both you know love her and be strong for her you can fix it I know you can now let’s go get her”. The groups split and Daryl is feeling every bit of everything you felt the past few months all in one swoop. He trudges on behind his group as they approach a bridge a group of walkers crossing the direction they need to go with no other way around so they do that they do best Daryl grabs his crossbow and shoots one it falling to the ground but only some of them feeding on it this has them confused so Carol shoots one in the leg causing the said Walker to scream and curse the other half of the feeding dead heading to its new victim they take a few down before one surrenders Daryl walking up checking the strange dead ones with Michonne discovering they’re masks made of Walker skin. Daryl mad rips the mask off the lone survivor a teen “please don’t hurt me please” carol knocks her out with the edge of her shotgun and motions for Daryl to pick her up “what? There could be more… what if they know where y/n is? It’s worth a shot” so he throws the girl over his shoulder heading back towards home yet another day without her and he’s starting to crumble apart

PART 3?

[fatalbrutality]

syrupy situationship - chapter 4: rage

jey uso x rhea ripley

word count: 3.6k

crossposted from ao3 | series masterlist

summary: monday night raw rolls around, and dom looks to talk to rhea.

notes: i miss jhea on tv :( i need more content immediately

“Wait so—” Damian rubs his temples as he processes Rhea’s words. She had gone straight to his room after getting ready and gave him the entire rundown of the date, which he seems to be having a hard time digesting. “So…he knew you were planning on using him, but…he was fine with it?”

“Yes!” Rhea exclaims for what feels like the millionth time, throwing herself back against the couch cushions in exasperation. “I don’t see what’s so hard to understand about that.”

Damian shoots her an incredulous look. “Really? Because I do! Why would he just be okay with getting used? That doesn’t make any sense, Rhea, how do you know he’s not playing you?”

“Well, he sure is playing the long game if that’s the case.” Rhea crosses her arms and rolls her eyes. “Waiting over a year just for me to come to him, what a genius master plan he’s got. That doesn’t make any sense, Damian.”

Damian sputters over his words, and for a second Rhea feels a bit bad for being so snippy. She’s well aware that he just wants her to be cautious, but he’s letting his urge to protect her cloud his judgment, and it’s starting to piss her off. When he takes too long to respond, Rhea continues, “I know you’re wary, but think about it. What would Jey’s motive be? Why wouldn’t he have just directly asked me out if he had some trick up his sleeve?”

“Alright, alright! You’ve made your point.” Damian runs a hand down his face in frustration before facing her. “So he’s probably not playing you, fine. That doesn’t mean this is a good idea, I mean—what if people start calling bullshit? It would seem kinda suspicious if you moved on so fast.”

Rhea scoffs. “What, so Dom can dump me and kiss someone else in the span of thirty seconds, but I can’t go on a date?”

“You know that’s not what I meant, I’m talking about the fans.” Damian explains. “I’m not saying it’s fair, but they have their double standards. They might think something is fishy if you start flaunting Jey around as your new little boytoy.”

Rhea feels her face heat up at Damian’s wording. “He’s not my—whatever! Ignoring that, I’m not exactly just gonna start making out with him on TV. We’ll take things slow so as to not draw any suspicion. Y’know, baby steps.”

Priest looks at her, his shoulders slumping as he sighs. She can tell he’s about to relent, but for good measure she flashes him the most pleading look she can muster up. He swears under his breath before tearing his eyes away, only for Rhea to follow him and invade his vision again.

“Fine!” he finally says, and Rhea has to physically resist the urge to celebrate in her seat. “Let me know if you need my help with anything.”

A breath of relief leaves Rhea’s lungs as she smiles gratefully. Of course, it’s not like she needed Damian’s permission or anything, but it’s nice to know he’s on board in case she needs his assistance. Plus, this little scheme will be a lot more believable if he’s in on it.

She pulls him into a quick side hug, patting him on the upper arm before pulling back. “Okay! Great, now go get ready so we can head out.”

“Tryna get there extra early to see your boytoy?” Damian asks teasingly.

Rhea grabs the decorative pillow beside her and whacks him with it. “Shut up!”

Despite how early they get there, the arena is already packed with both fans and fellow superstars alike, creating a minefield backstage. Rhea narrowly skirts around interviewers and the other wrestlers, not wanting to talk to anyone until she talks to Jey first. She needs to lay down some ground rules and fully explain her plan to him—the last thing she needs is Jey saying or doing something stupid that contradicts what she has in her head.

Her and Damian find a new room to hang out in; far away from the Judgment Day’s clubhouse. It isn’t quite as spacious, but it’ll have to do for now. She doesn’t want to risk running into any of them, and she’s sure Damian feels the same way. Besides, it’s not so bad! It has a TV at least…

Clearly, she’s trying her best to see the positives.

Some shitty cop show is playing on the aforementioned TV, but Rhea’s eyes are glued to her phone screen instead as she types out a message to Jey.

Rhea I need to talk to you Where are you?

Jey Too many people here Text instead Are u gonna tell me more about this plan or am i flying blind?

Smart man. He practically read her mind. Rhea chuckles to herself, shaking her head as she responds to him.

Rhea As for right now, don’t act much differently We have to start subtle at first or they’ll call our bluff So no kissing or anything like that yet

Jey Yet? 👀

Rhea Shut up

“Who ya textin’?”

Rhea yelps, nearly jumping out of her seat when she hears Damian right by her ear. Her hand flies over her racing heart as the motherfucker just laughs at her, putting his hands up in surrender when she goes to smack him. “What the fuck, Priest?”

“Sorry!” Damian says, still laughing, and most certainly not sorry. “Just messing to try and lighten the mood a little, you seem stressed.”

She runs a hand through her hair, feeling incredibly hot all of a sudden. “Uh, maybe a little. More on edge than anything, really. With, y’know, the whole Jey thing and just knowing that they’re going to be in the same building…”

Her hands clench around her phone, a wave of anger coursing through her. She spent so much time on the way to the arena mentally preparing herself, and she’s still not ready to see them. How is she supposed to see them when part of her still can’t even fathom that this is actually real? She feels like a ghost; like she died at SummerSlam and came back for the sole purpose of torturing herself in the afterlife.

Damian covers her hands with his, gently prying the phone from her grasp. “Woah, take it easy. Any tighter and you’ll crack the screen.”

Rhea snickers against her will, taking her phone back from him. “Just trying to get a grip. Literally, I guess. I mean—how are you so calm right now? Knowing those twats are lurking around somewhere right now?”

He doesn’t answer at first, his expression hard to read as he stares off into nothingness. Then, he turns to her with a shrug and a slight frown. “Honestly? I’m not. Keeping you calm and making sure you’re doing okay is probably the only thing keeping me from losing my shit.”

“I get that.” Rhea says softly. “Just don’t forget that you deserve to be upset, too.”

She does get it. She’s painfully familiar with the concept, actually. It was all she knew when she was part of the Judgment Day, constantly making sure the rest of the group was alright to keep herself sane. After all, if she’s too busy being worried about everyone else’s problems, the less time she has to overthink her own.

It’s strange, having it be the other way around. She hasn’t quite decided if she likes it or not just yet.

She stands abruptly, checking the time on her phone. It’s around lunchtime now, and she finds herself regretting only getting the waffle for breakfast. “I’m gonna head over to catering real quick. You coming?”

“Nah, you go ahead.” Damian says, waving a dismissive hand. “I’ll go after my promo.”

That’s right, Damian has a segment tonight. Rhea almost forgot. She knows she’d be an absolute trainwreck if she had to deliver a promo tonight—she has no idea how Priest is going to manage it. He didn’t say anything about it other than letting her know that he has one, but besides that his lips have been sealed. She’s assuming that he’ll address Finn, which in that case she’ll have to watch. No more napping.

She leaves the room, looking both ways before closing the door behind her and setting off towards catering. The room her and Damian chose to hang out in is pretty out of the way, so it’ll be a bit of a workout to get there, but the peacefulness that the borderline empty halls bring is worth it.

It’s starting to get closer to the time the venue doors open, which means even more superstars are going to start filling up backstage any minute now. She picked a great time to go grab food; if she hurries she can probably be there and back before people really start showing up.

“Rhea!”

Rhea’s blood runs cold, her eyes widening as she freezes in place.

No, no, no.

Footsteps speed up behind her, and she quickly snaps out of it to walk faster than before.

“Rhea, wait!”

Oh, God, please no.

She turns the corner, breathing heavily as she dares to glance over her shoulder. Dom is hot on her heels, following behind her with unknown intentions and she’s trying her hardest not to panic. All that mental preparation was seemingly for nothing, she barely made it an hour without running into one of them—and she hadn’t expected it to be like this. She’d been expecting a more neutral ground, like gorilla or even at catering, but Dom chasing her through the halls was certainly not high on her expectations list.

She’s completely lost at this point, she was so focused on getting away from Dom that she strayed off course from the direction catering is in. Dom is still calling out her name, sounding a lot closer than before and she has no time to react before he’s grabbing her by the wrist and forcing her to turn around and look at him.

Rhea sneers at him, refusing to let him see just how badly affected she is as she snatches back her wrist. “What the fuck do you want?”

Dom doesn’t seem fazed. “Can I talk to you? In private?”

“And why would I listen to a single word you have to say?” Rhea shoots back, crossing her arms.

“Because, I wanna explain.” Dom says, pressing his hands together. “Please?”

Rhea pauses, looking past Dom to find that the hallway is empty with no sign of Liv or any of the others. Doesn’t mean much, though, this could still be a trap. She should proceed with caution. “This is as private as you’re getting. Now talk, I’m actually curious to hear what bullshit excuses you pull out of your ass.”

Dominik glares at her, sighing. “Alright. Well, first off I wanna say that I didn’t just randomly wake up that morning and decide to break up with you. Liv and I have been talking for months, I’ve had months to think it all through. It wasn’t an easy decision—”

“Yeah, and in the end you chose her.” Rhea says curtly. “Is that supposed to make me feel better? Like it softens the blow knowing you thought long and hard about it?”

“No,” Dom says, “but I figured that if you really cared about me the way you said you did, you’d want me to be happy.”

…What?

Rhea narrows her eyes at him, fixing her posture and rising up to her full height. “Excuse me?”

Dom hesitates. “I realized I just wasn’t happy with you anymore. But I am with Liv, and when we were together you were always saying how you want me to be happy, right?”

Is he fucking serious?

“And I know you weren’t happy with me anymore either.” Dom says bitterly, folding his arms over his chest.

“How could I be happy with someone who wasn’t there!?” Rhea raises her voice. “You fucking ghosted me for months when I was out, while you were apparently sleazing around with the girl who injured me, was I supposed to be happy watching that in real time?”

Dom shakes his head. “Look, I did us both a favor. It was always inevitable—I was just the one that had the guts to finally do it! You can pretend all you want, our relationship was going downhill before Liv was even in the picture. You should be thanking me! You’re—”

It all happens so fast. An overwhelmingly hot rage overtakes Rhea, and before she knows it she’s throwing her fist straight into Dominik’s face. He stumbles back and trips, falling to the floor and looking up at her in shock with his hand clutching his nose. But Rhea doesn’t let up. She gets on top of him, raining down punches on him as her built up emotions come pouring out all at once.

The man beneath her puts his hands up to protect his face, sputtering out incomprehensible pleas for her to stop, muffled by the blood rushing in her ears. That fateful moment at SummerSlam is on loop in her head, replaying over and over again with each hit.

A scream rings out somewhere up ahead, and that’s all the warning Rhea gets until she gets tackled off of Dom, her back slamming against the floor as weight forces itself down on her chest. Her eyes refocus, getting a glimpse of long blonde hair before she receives a punch in the face. If it’s even possible, Rhea only gets angrier—it’s all a blur as she throws Liv off of her, pins her down and starts punching her too.

Rhea was wrong, she didn’t die at SummerSlam and come back for the sole purpose of torturing herself—she came back to torture them.

Her knuckles burn, she thinks she sees blood and there’s distant voices yelling, but none of it matters—because she has Liv Morgan under her. She gets in a few more hits before she’s being dragged off, to which she starts swinging wildly to break free from their grasp.

“Rhea, stop!” Dom shouts, holding her back as Liv struggles to get to her feet.

“Don’t fucking touch me!” Rhea sends her elbow flying back into his ribs, effectively getting him to let her go.

The hallway floods with security and other nosy people wanting to see what all the commotion is about, putting distance between the three of them. Dom shoves past people to rush to Liv’s aid, helping her up as they both stare Rhea down.

“What the hell’s goin’ on?”

Jey pushes his way through the small crowd that gathered around, ignoring the protests of security. His eyes land on Rhea, immediately coming to her side.

“You alright? What happened?” Jey asks.

Rhea looks over at Dom and Liv, imploring Jey to do the same. Dom’s red-rimmed eyes harden, and Liv has this stupid smug smirk on her face despite the blood pouring from her nose. She tugs Dom down to whisper something in his ear, and they share one last glance at Rhea before they take off running down the hall.

Everyone else starts to disperse, leaving Rhea with Jey. She’s still breathing heavily, the adrenaline starting to wear off and leave her body as she realizes what she just did.

“I kinda beat the shit out of them.” Rhea says breathlessly, bringing her hand up to gently touch the tender skin of her cheek. Liv had gotten in a good hit before Rhea managed to get her off; that’s gonna leave a nasty bruise.

“Yeah, I could see that.” Jey says, cautiously leaning closer to get a look at where Liv punched her. “Shit…”

“I just…I was heading to catering and Dom started following me.” Rhea explains, scowling. “He started begging for me to hear him out and wouldn’t leave me alone, and he started spewing bullshit and I—well, you saw what I did.”

“You got ‘em good,” Jey says, a little smile forming on his face. “You should get some ice on that though, c’mon.”

Jey leads Rhea to catering after stopping by medical for an ice pack, where the two of them fix themselves plates of food. Rhea shows him back to her and Damian’s new spot, only to see that the room is empty.

It’s not uncommon for Damian to wander the halls or go warm up in the locker room, but with the knowledge that she just pissed off their enemies, she’s worried about him.

Rhea sits down on the sofa next to Jey, who has already started digging in. She chuckles to herself and takes out her phone, sending a few texts to Damian.

Rhea Dom cornered me I fucked him up And Liv So be careful

A minute goes by without an answer, and knowing how Damian can be, she most likely won’t get one. He tends to be pretty disconnected from technology, especially at work. She sets the ice pack down, her leg bouncing as she stares at the screen in anticipation.

Suddenly, Jey rests his hand on her knee, bringing her leg to a stop. Warmth radiates from his large hand, spreading from her leg all the way up to her face. She blinks up at him, finding his kind eyes already locked on her.

“He’s fine,” he reassures her, “we’ll go look for him after we eat, okay?”

“I…Okay.” Rhea says after a moment, earning a smile from Jey before he gives her knee a pat and then takes his hand away completely, returning to his meal.

Rhea breathes deeply. In and out.

Damian is fine.

She makes it through her meal without having a nervous breakdown, and true to his word, Jey helps her look for Damian. They traverse through the halls together, deliberately avoiding the direction of the clubhouse.

Rhea feels the eyes of several of their fellow wrestlers on them as they walk together, but she pays them no mind. She just wants to find Damian right now.

Eventually, they find him warming up down the hall from gorilla, relief instantly washing over Rhea when she sees that he’s unharmed.

“There you are!” Rhea exclaims, getting his attention as she marches over to him. “I’ve been texting you, man!”

Damian looks up from where he’s doing pushups on the floor, stopping midstream to stand up. His brows are furrowed as he looks back and forth between Rhea and Jey, confusion carved into his face. “My phone’s charging—what happened?”

“I ran into Dom,” Rhea says, “well, he chased me down, actually. I, uh, lost my temper and fucked him up.”

“What?”

“And then Liv came outta nowhere and attacked me, so I fucked her up, too.”

“What?” Damian’s eyes widen. “Are you okay?”

“She caught me right here.” Rhea taps her cheek with her finger. “But yeah, I’m fine. Just wanted to warn you in case they’re going around looking for payback.”

Damian nods slowly, then shifts his gaze over to Jey. “And he’s here because…?”

Jey straightens up at being acknowledged, but Rhea speaks for him. “He found me afterwards, took me to get an ice pack and some food, and then helped me find you.”

“Oh, really?” Damian says, the corner of his mouth twitching upwards. “That’s…interesting…”

Rhea glares at him, reaching up to hit him, only for Damian to laugh and dodge her. She’s so going to kill him later.

Jey clears his throat. “Alright, well, I guess I’ma head out. I don’t got nothin’ to do except for a backstage segment later, so if you need anything, just holler at me.”

He starts to walk away, and before Rhea can stop herself, she’s calling out to him. “Wait!”

He turns back around, looking at Rhea expectantly. “Wassup?”

“You could—” Rhea cuts herself off, mentally cringing. “Uh, you could…hang out with us? If you want to, of course.”

There’s silence, and for a brief moment Rhea wonders if she should’ve just let him go, but then Jey’s smiling brightly at her and she knows she made the right choice. Even if Damian is side-eyeing her like she’s crazy.

“Yeet.” Jey says, smiling giddily as he comes back.

It’s probably not the smartest idea, and it most certainly isn’t part of the plan, but Rhea quite enjoys Jey’s company. Also, it’s kind of quiet now that it’s just her and Damian. She doesn’t mind it too much—obviously she loves Damian, but when it was just the two of them in that room she found herself missing the chaos of the Judgment Day and their clubhouse. There was nary a dull moment, but that’s gone now.

Besides, this is a good opportunity to get to know Jey and maybe talk a little more about the plan. They haven’t really gotten a chance to yet, save for their little conversation over text. But, another talk is definitely necessary if they want to be even somewhat believable.

Jey coming to Rhea’s aid had been a surprise, but it wasn’t unwelcome in the slightest. Not exactly what she had in mind at first, but the fact that it came naturally makes it better. A small gesture that could be viewed as platonic or romantic, with countless people around to witness it. The seed has been planted, now they just have to go about it the right way to capitalize on it.

They let Damian wrap up what he’s doing before they begin to head back to the room, until someone calls Rhea’s name from behind.

“Rhea Ripley!”

Rhea’s nose scrunches up in a grimace, recognizing the voice almost immediately. She turns around, seeing an irate Adam Pearce stomping in her direction. He stops in front of her, crossing his arms. She catches sight of Liv and Dom peeking around the corner, mocking her and giggling behind Pearce’s back like a couple of fucking children.

“I’m gonna need to see you in my office. Now.”

[insectgf]

Hiiii!!! Not to invade your ask box; but I was wondering more about your views on Rhine & Dani’s dynamic/relationship?? Like how you think it’ll play about, your headcanons, theories, etc,,,,,

I know you’ve went over it before; but it’s actually one of my fav things ever and I really love the way that isn’t just the basic ‘oh ya they hate each other ’ dynamic most other people interpret it as— and I really love it💜💜

OMG MONARD UR NEVER INVADING!!!! i read ur ask while sitting in my lecture and i couldn’t stop thinking about it.

so basic disclaimer: i treat rhinedottir and dainsleif like my ocs so everything here is cannon only in my heart. feel free to agree/disagree just be nice. also sorry for any misspelling i don’t have dyslexia im just stupid and english is my third language blablabla LETS GO

before i can talk about their dynamic i will give a rundown on my own interpretation of the two characters.

we know basically nothing about rhine so i went crazy in my head with ideas. one thing im certain about is that she’s the royal alchemist, i can also image her being some sort of wunderkind and extremely hard working/determined. in my head she also DIDNT invent the art of khemia, she merely mastered it. i think alchemy is as old as teyvat itself, together with the idea of creating life forged by human hand. kehmia is popular in khaenriah because well….those mole people live underground and how else will you feed your people.

(sorry for drifting of (it will happen again))

so we have rhine, an extremely hard working prodigy, in the field of alchemy/science in general probably. i think it is also important to differentiate between pre cataclysm and post cataclysm rhine and dain.

i can imagine pre cataclysm rhine being a somewhat normal person. as normal as she can be anyways, she fits into the eccentric crazy scientist stereotype but she isn’t socially incompetent or anything like that. she laughs, she jokes, she relaxes and she obsesses.

post cataclysm rhine lost herself and everything she stood for in that war. the only thing she has left is her obsessive nature.

in my mind i can also image that the royal alchemist stands very high in the social hierarchy.

and that’s where dainsleif comes in!!

dain too is a prodigy, just in fighting and strategies. he doesn’t look old to me? he was already the knight captain of the royal guard, and he’s like…barley 35 in my eyes.

SO two prodigies meet, they both excel in different areas in their life. what happens? they don’t care for eachother.

rhine who can’t do a push up vs dain who doesn’t know how to synthesis anything.

to be honest, i don’t think they were paired up to like balance each other out. i can image them meeting occasionally on dains rounds. they are a constant in eachothers life’s, but do they talk? rarely.

because they don’t have anything in common.

i feel like rhine would be someone who was against rigid structures and rules, since she was constantly breaking the rules of celestial (not being permitted to great (human) life), and probably the king too (that one is more secretly done but she still does it in my heart).

so when dainsleif bows down to her she’s just laughing it off. it’s silly because they are the same age!! and just because she does alchemy somewhat well doesn’t mean she deserves all the respect in the world!!

and now! post cataclysm!

dainsleif failed his country. the twilight sword could not protect those he swore to protect. dain i think was conditioned from an early age to be ready to die for his people and just the fact that he’s immortal hurts more because of that.

rhine is the opposite. death is too easy, everyone can die but life is the truly hard challenge. to live for something.

i also like to think that rhine is actually somewhat open going with information. ofc dangerous/important thing she doesn’t tell but like if someone came up to her to ask her to explain smth she would do it. information is power and to gatekeep information from a certain group of people is not right.

so in that sense rhine talking to herself and rambling is something dainsleif actually copied from her post cataclysm 😭 like he’s constantly lore dropping,,,just like rhine. because he agrees! information shouldn’t be kept away!

NOW TO THEIR DYNAMIC

I think it’s really complex and contradictory in on itself. we know dain joined the abyss order at least for a certain time (i assume) and i think that’s something rhine would be against. yes she likes the abyss and uses the concisenesses inside to fulfill her vessels. no she would never worship a huge glowing rock. she DID NOT declare war against GODS and CELESTIA just to bow down to anything ever again. so she judges him for that decision for sure

i don’t think that dainsleif could even bring himself to hate rhine for what she did. he’s a protector of the people, even if his people did wrong.

yes, he’s wary of her. yes, he’s even scared of her and her power. yes, he thinks the art of khemia should have never been studied the way it was.

no, he doesn’t love her. no, he doesn’t like her.

yes, he would obey every order she gives him.

rhine being the highest ranking khaenrian running around is such a funny image like girl who gave u all that authority….

i think it’s also interesting how the kheanriahn people are still there and still live there but we still haven’t really see any kheanrianhs. (why is that so hard to spell like what)

clothar left because of his son caribert, pierro left to do whatever he’s doing, dainsleif is filled with guilt and probably doesn’t think he’s capable of protecting anyone and rhine is out there….being a menace.

i think also that rhine and dainsleif trust eachother to a degree but to a weird one.

yes dainsleif trusts her with his life, no he doesn’t trust her word.

same with rhinedottir, she’s like somewhere high up and she just goes „catch me!“ and then she just jumps down no matter how far away he is 😭 has he ever failed? nah!!!

but when she asks him about the abyss order she just knows he’s not telling the full truth. she can’t judge him tho, since she’s also a lying liar.

we know that also being alive for so long comes with erosion and that dainsleif has probably lost a good chunk of his memory, but even tho he’s borderline senile he still recognised albedo as rhinedottirs. like the star mark gives it away and dainsleif remembers, that’s her mark. she’s still alive. she’s still creating.

so yeah, dainsleif is ready to stop albedo should the time come, but would he stop rhinedottir? no

he wasn’t able to stop her back then, even though he saw all the warning sings, even tho pierro warned them all. and even now he wouldn’t be able to.

because dainsleif apparates on muscle memory and its ingrained into every fiber of his body to obey the royal alchemist.

i think also pierro and rhine dynamic would be interesting but more in a comedic way

pierro, near his retirement: you should stop with the path you’re on. you will call on the rage of celestia

rhinedottir, who has never passed a psych evaluation or sports test in her life: i can take the archons and celestia in a fight

so yeah that’s my take on them. no they aren’t in love and no they don’t hate eachother. but they are one of the few constants they have left and one thing both are good at it clinging what belongs to them. they have something weird going on in that sense that dain can’t help his guard dog nature and rhine can’t send him away.

i also think they are gossip buddies like dain RAN to rhine when he found out clothar died and that kaeya is in mondstadt. he probably also told her about halfdan and the abyss order trying to purify with the water. rhine furisly writing everything down so she’s doesn’t forgets

[dol-doll]

I don’t know if you take prompts!

Just got the idea, Bailey storms into PCS room and if you have lustful turned on the PC frequently wakes up orgasming….what if he stormed in right at that moment? 👀

Sorry if you’re not comfortable with this or don’t accept requests x

HI ANGEL OMG MY FIRST REQUEST/ASK TY FOR THIS your brains so big sending you a big virtual kiss fr

CW: coercion (it's bailey let's be real), m!bailey, gn!reader, non/dub-con, male masturbation

It's around 1 am, you just came home from a long day working and then bartending at the Club for a few hours trying to make some extra cash by flirting with VIPs before you decided you were too tired to continue, coming back home, taking a shower, stripping yourself of all your clothes and tucking yourself in bed.

Another lustful dream haunts you as you feel the grip of tentacles on your wrists and legs, feeling yourself being fucked full as they invade every one of your orifices, you cum with a soft but audible moan and wake up feeling wetness between your legs that has now drenched your sheets, but just as you go to clean it up you see Bailey at the door.

Bailey had entered to check up on you, if you're still there or if you've run away to wherever you go from time to time, and you were there, squirming in your sheets as your hands gripped them, your blanket slowly slipping off of your body. He wanted to look away, he wasn't interested in some brat like you, but they couldn't.

He continued to watch as you writhe and started arching your back, maybe it was a nightmare, but they were too engrossed by the light of the moon tracing your curves, as his eyes hungrily danced over them. He then saw your eyes open, as you stared at them a mix of shock, horror, embarassment and a twinge of arousal.

"I-I can explain," you stuttered out but before you could say anything else, Bailey was slamming the door to your room.

Now there's 1 of 2 things that could've happened.

1. He could either storm in, closing the door behind them as they grab your jaw roughly, making you look at him as his other hand goes down to touch you, feeling how you've made a mess of yourself.

"I always knew you were a fucking slut, no wonder you're so in demand," he'd say as he freed himself, his dick painfully straining against his pants. "Get to work or I'll send you off before you can have the time to blink," he'd say as you leaned down, licking his shaft, before he's pushing your head so that you can take more of him. He'd let out a guttural moan while thrusting up into you, fucking your face before pulling you off of him and manhandling you, throwing you onto your stomach, pulling your hips towards him as he starts sliding his dick between your thighs.

"You were always the hottest piece of ass in here," he'd say as he entered you in one go, no regard for how thick or long he is as he'd fucks into you, the pain would slowly turn to pleasure as he starts playing with you, pinching your nipples, trying to bring you to your peak too, "Be grateful I'm letting you come again bitch," he'd say before pulling out and spilling all over your back before he'd come to his senses, looking down at you, slightly ashamed mostly angry. He'd pull your hair again making you look up at him as he'd tell you how this was all your fault and how you were asking for it, before pulling his pants up and leaving you limp and panting on the bed.

Or

2. He'd slam the door behind his back, leaving your room, trying to catch his breath as his dick painfully strains against his pants before he scurries off to his office to take out the fleshlight he usually keeps in one of his drawers, fucking into it while imagining it was you instead, letting out soft cusses and murmurs of, "Just like that slut" and "fuck you're so tight," as he loses himself in the overwhelming pleasure, cumming to the thought of you with his head thrown back against his chair. He'd try to catch his breath after that and go back to sleep, maybe he should walk into your room in the middle of the night more often he'd think to himself.

© All rights reserved to dol-doll. Do not repost or take credit for any of my writings.

[sunrisefairy]

Annoying

Paring: Remus Lupin x fem!reader Warning: NSFW! MDNI 18+ unprotected sex, swearing, mentions of oral sex. If I’ve forgotten anything let me know! Summary: Remus finds the reader so annoyingly distracting.  A/N: for the anon that wanted a mix of enemies to lovers and Remus losing control near the full moon. I hope I did it justice.  Requests are open!

tag list: if your name is crossed out i couldn’t tag you :( @theweasleyslut @anxiousblanketqueen @midnightgremlin @babyjordy @widowdays @inglourious-imagines @garbdump @star-sunshine-sage @weelittleweasley @starlightkell @omghufflepuff @weasleysprincess @harrysboo28 @j-amespotter @woodxweasley @gryffindorgirl @siriusbarnesslut @joytce397 @thegirllostinthelibrary @layaaaa @nuttytani @horrormoviebitch @j-weasley-lupin  @sunflowerdarlingx @touchdeprivedwh0re​ @melonoptimist @iamnibbsi  @thebiggestsimponearth​ @impulse-anchor​ @lilytheally​ @familydisappointed @alinor-padfoot

To be added to the tag list click here

Remus Lupin isn’t one to hate people, sure there is only a select few people that he actually likes spending time with and considers his good friends but that doesn’t mean that he dislikes everyone else, he just doesn’t have time for a lot of people, especially annoying people. And some people are just more annoying than others and most times those people don’t even realise they’re acting as such. Except for the girl who is basically in every one of his classes, you. Remus is certain you know how infuriating you are, especially when you shoot your hand up to beat Remus to answering a question or how a smile will stretch across your pretty lips when you finds out you scored higher than Remus on a test or how you always seems to giggle a little louder when you knows Remus is nearby. Remus finds it irritating how you seems to know exactly how to get on his nerves, you know precisely how to make his cheeks heat up in anger and make his blood boil and his cock hard, okay maybe you don’t realise you’re doing the last one but still. But the thing that annoys Remus the most is you don’t seem to care.

Being friends with James Potter and Sirius Black, Remus has learnt to obtain the patience of a saint. He finds no trouble in zoning out their constant chatter and ignoring their mindless bickering. However, as it gets closer to a full moon, Remus’ tolerance wears thin and the marauders quickly learnt to simmer down and be wary of Remus around a full moon, unless either one of them wanted a smack to the back of the head. As it gets closer to his transformations Remus’ senses are heightened tenfold, it’s as if he can hear every sound, smell every scent and everything he tastes is 10 times more intense.

His joints were aching more than usual last night so that combined with Peters constant snoring ensured minimal sleep which resulted in Remus being extra irritable today which would have been manageable if he didn’t have a class first thing with you. Beautiful, cute, annoying you.

Remus thought if he could just spend the lesson concentrating hard enough on the professors dull voice that you sitting in the same room as him wouldn’t be an issue, it wasn’t like he sat next to you anyway, James or Sirius always occupied the desk next to him eager to ‘share’ his notes. Expect this day was different, because Remus got little sleep last night he slept through his alarm and somehow even slept through the booming voices of the Marauders when they were getting ready this morning. Remus started off the day jumping out of bed and rushing to get ready, having no time for breakfast (which added to his already foul mood) and practically falling through the classroom door only to find his usual seat was pre-occupied by some girl Sirius was trying to woo and James was sitting next to Pete.

“Ah, Mr. Lupin. How fantastic to see you have finally decided to join us. Please find a seat so I can continue on with my lesson,” the Professor states before continuing his lifeless lesson.

Remus quickly scans the room for a free chair to rush to, he spots one in the far corner of the room but falters in his step when he notices who is seated next to the free space, you. Remus groans when he realises this was the only free chair and very obviously drags his feet before plopping down beside you, he can only hope you decided to not be annoyingly distracting today.

“How scandalous that Mr. prefect is late to class,” you whisper, chuckling when you see Remus roll his eyes, a usual reaction of his.

Remus comes to the conclusion that the best point of action is to just pretend you don’t exist, which goes according to plan until 3 quarters of the way through the lesson. The thing is, Remus hasn’t sat in such close proximity to you this close to a full moon before and he’s struggling to keep his focus on the jumble of words in front of him and not on the way you’re obnoxiously twirling your hair between your fingers. Whatever perfume you sprayed on yourself is suffocating Remus’ nostrils and he can’t get enough. Within no time Remus thoughts are straying away from his textbook to more filthy thoughts surrounding you. The main image that is burning a hole in his brain is the thought of burying his face in your neck and inhaling your scent and sinking his teeth into your perfect skin, he has to bite his lip to stop himself from groaning.

Remus manages to write 2 more messy sentences down before glancing in your direction and noticing the way your lip is pulled between your teeth and he can’t help but fantasise about biting your annoyingly pretty lips himself.

“Stop doing that,” Remus grits through his teeth as he speaks.

You meet his gaze confused, “stop doing what?”

“That!” Remus whisper yells, pointing at your lips as you once again pull your bottom lip in between your lip. “It’s distracting.”

You mumble an apology and go back to writing your notes. You’re so engrossed in reading the selected chapter you don’t even notice you’re bouncing your leg up and down rapidly until a rough hand stills your movements. You’re expecting Remus to remove his large hand once your movements stop, however to your surprise he keeps his hand resting firmly against your bare knee. Mouth agape and staring down at where Remus is touching you, the way his thumb is stroking at your skin seems innocent enough, so why is your stomach in knots?

Remus leans dangerously close to your ear, which thankfully goes unnoticed by the rest of the class given the fact the two of you are seated at the back of the room. “You are being very distracting right now bunny, it’s making me angry.”

A visible shudder runs through your body, feeling Remus’ hot breath fanning the side of your face makes your mouth dry. Remus’ low teasing voice makes you whimper immediately a heat rushes up your cheeks because even though your whimper was quiet Remus is so very close to you right now, you know he heard.

“Come with me,” Remus squeezes your knee and moves to rise from his seat.

You halt his movements by grabbing onto his bicep, “we can’t just leave, we’re in the middle of class.” Your eyes dart to the front of the room to see if your professor has witnessed Remus’ half standing and planning his escape.

“What’s life without a bit of risk bunny, now c’mon.” his tone demanding and firm. Without even a second glance Remus walks out of class, making you wonder if he’s done this before. The odds are high, given that he’s one fourth of the infamous marauders clan.

You look away from the door Remus just so carelessly walked out of and to the front of the class at your professor, he’s sitting at his desk reading over papers and very obviously trying to stay awake. The chances of him catching you are slim but that isn’t what you’re nervous about. You’re nervous about what will happen if you do make it out of the classroom unnoticed, you’re nervous about what Remus will do to you. The endless possibilities are both thrilling and exciting. There’s no way you could stay seated not when there’s a wetness pooling in your panties just from Remus’ hand on your knee.

Carefully you slip out from your seat and rush to the door, breathing a sigh of relief when you successfully make it out into the corridor. Looking around you notice the corridor is empty and there’s no sign of Remus, you begin walking down the hallway in search of the boy.

“Remus?” you’re met with nothing but silence. Just as you’re about to turn and head back to class you feel a strong arm grip yours and tug your harshly into a tiny room.

“Ooft,” your body slamming into someone’s hard chest; if only there was a light source in this closet? yes it’s definitely a closet, if only it wasn’t so dark in here you would be able to figure out who decided it a good idea to scare the shit out of you by pulling you in here with them.

“Took your fucking time,” the other person grunts, Remus you thought, you knew that voice.

“Remus, what the hell? Care to explain why your dragged me out of class and into this dark broom closet?” Although there is no light in the tiny closet you can vaguely see Remus’ outline towering over you, you gulp realising how close the both of you are standing to each other. Remus’ hot breath fans your face and you’re very aware that if you were to angle your head further upwards and stand on your tiptoes you could connects your lips. The thought itself has you shuddering.

“Couldn’t wait.” Remus replies, stepping closer, invading your personal space even more, not that you minded.

“Couldn’t wait for what?”

“Merlin you’re dumber than I thought if you don’t know.”

You scoff defensively, “I am not dumb, do I have to remind you I bet you on the last Charms essay? and on the transfigurations one so-”

The words die in your throat, Remus cutting you off by connecting your lips in a needy and desperate kiss. Immediately you wrap your arms around his neck and tug him closer by the hair. Remus rests his hands on your waist pulling your hips flush against his, you whimper feeling his hard cock pressing against your stomach.

Remus breaks away from your mouth and starts sucking and licking down your jaw and neck while his hands move to grope at your breasts over the top of your school shirt. “We don’t have much time before class ends.” Remus mumbles into your skin, his mouth is salivating when he breathes in deep, his nostrils filling with the sweet scent of you, it’s so intoxicating and immediately images of you are accompanying his mind, some more sinful than others. Remus wastes no time in sinking his teeth into the fleshy part of your shoulder, his cock twitching at the sound you make.

“Then you better hurry up and fuck me Remus,” you smirk, loving the way Remus groans and narrows his eyes at you. His pupils have seemingly expanded and darkened, his eyes are scanning over every inch of your face leaving you feeling vulnerable.

Your pussy has been throbbing since Remus firmly rested his hand on your leg back in the classroom and you know your panties are soaked by now with the way Remus is rutting his hips against yours but it’s not enough. It won’t be enough, not until you know what it’s like to have Remus’ skin against yours and his cock inside you but even then, you think you will always be wanting more of him.

Your hands are fumbling at Remus’ pants trying to get them unbuckled as quickly as possible, Remus understands the rush and helps you, skilfully undoing his pants and pushing them along with his boxers down his legs with only one hand, the other creeps under your shirt and rests delicately on the small of your back. Just the feeling of Remus’ skin on your back makes you melt further into him, your desire to have him fuck you hard and fast is becoming unbearable. Remus’ cock is sitting hard and angrily between your bodies, desperate for any sort of attention and Remus wishes you had more time because he would love to push you down to your knees and finally force you to shut up by pushing his cock into your sweet mouth and make you gag and choke around his length until you’re crying. But time isn’t on his side right now so instead Remus wraps his strong arms around your arse, silently signally you to jump which you do with no hesitation and lock your legs around his waist.

Remus reaches his hand down to flip your skirt up, he be damned if he couldn’t see the cunt he’s spent way to much time thinking about. Remus pull your panties to the side groaning when his fingers graze your wet dripping core, another thing he wishes he could do is to taste you. He just knows you taste sugary and sweet just like the sounds you’re making as he teases your entrance. He wants to bury his face deep in your cunt inhaling your scent while he licks and sucks until you’re screaming his name, maybe another time.

“You gotta be quiet for me kay bunny? Think you can do that?” Remus’ voice is thick with lust and a condescending tone is laced throughout it.

“You think that highly of yourself?” you retort trying to rile Remus up like you normally do, it seems to be working judging by the way Remus pinches the flesh of your arse.

Without breaking eye contact Remus lines up his cock and drags your hips down until he’s deep inside you, his balls pressed flush against your skin.

Remus isn’t sure if it’s because it’s close to the full moon but he hasn’t even started moving yet and the way the soft velvet walls of your cunt is gripping and hugging at his cock feels so intense and heavenly, he thinks he might cum right there.

Along with a lack of patience around this time of the month Remus also struggles to control himself and his urges. It takes every ounce of self-discipline in him to hold you against the rough wall of the broom closet and slowly rock his hips into yours, feeling the need to control the situation. Remus is very conscious of not gripping your hips too hard and not slamming his hips up into yours too roughly, he doesn’t want to let go mentally and hurt you.

You can tell Remus is holding back, the authoritative tone used in the classroom is vastly different to his actions right now. He’s supposed to be fucking you hard and fast and making you scream, not this.

Although the pleasure from Remus’ rocking into your cunt is great you know he can do better, can fuck you better. “Remus,” you whine, pulling his face away from your neck, forcing him to look you in the eyes. There’s clearly an internal struggle behind his eyes. “Remus, I need you to fuck me properly. I can take it, you won’t break me, promise.”

Remus does pick up the speed slightly, but you can clearly tell there’s still some hesitance on his behalf and you asking nicely didn’t seem break that. You’re desperate for Remus to let go. A smirk breaks out onto your face, an idea forming. Based on your previous interactions you know exactly how to get under Remus’ skin, what to say and do that would have him clenching his jaw in annoyance, after all it was a hobby of yours, annoying Remus Lupin. “Guess we don’t have to worry about me being quiet if you fuck like this. Pity, was kinda hoping you’d have me screaming.”

Something deep and primal in him snaps, blame it on the full moon or how you’re silently challenging him, he doesn’t care, all he cares about right now is proving you wrong, and he wasn’t going to stop until he had you trembling and shaking.

His grip on your hips tighten, nails threatening to break skin as Remus pushes your further into the wall behind you so hard for a second you think you might go tumbling right through it. You’re grateful for the material of your school top slightly soften the rough texture of the wall behind you. With no warning Remus starts slamming his hips harder and faster into yours, clearly set on making you squirm against him. Each thrust is harder than the last and his cock is poking your g-spot repeatedly. The sounds you were making were positively indecent and only fuelled Remus on. Neither of you cared that anyone walking by the broom closet could possibly hear the sound of skin slapping together or yours and Remus’ moans. None of that mattered, not when the two of you felt this good.

The vigour of Remus’ pace was unmatched and all you could do was hold on tight to Remus’ shoulders and take every powerful thrust. You were hypnotised with the feeling of Remus’ cock inside of you, you couldn’t help but wonder what other parts of his body like his fingers or tongue, would feel like when fucking you.

“Fuck Remus, so good. I-I” you weren’t even sure what you were trying to say, all your thoughts were jumbled and bouncing around in your brain, all you knew is you never wanted Remus to stop.

“You feel amazing,” Remus’ body was on fire, every inch of him alight and burning, his annoyance of how his day started was far from his mind. All he could think of was you and how you were clenching around him. He chokes out a strained sob when he hears you chanting his name in time with each rough snap of his hips, you sound both angelic and sinful at the same time, Remus’ wishes he had one of those muggle voice recording devices so he could record your whines and listen to them when he’s alone in his dorm room.

Using his free hand Remus reaches down to rub tight circles on your clit edging you closer and closer to your release. Your orgasm is fast approaching much like a freight train heading straight for you, sirens blaring but you can’t move, the pleasure is too intense and too powerful to do anything except take it.

Remus’ face is pressed back against your neck and he quickly decides it’s his favourite place to be, if someone offered him 1,000 Galleons to never bury his face in your neck, he wouldn’t take it. Remus can hear the squelching sounds of your soppy cunt as it helplessly takes his fat cock. He’s leaving sloppy kisses and hickeys wherever he can get his mouth. It’s right when Remus’ digs his teeth into your neck and bites down hard do you fall apart, your pussy clenching and spasming around him, right in this moment you’re thankful for Remus holding you up against the wall, your legs are shaking and tensing and you know if you were standing the intensity of the orgasm would have brought you to your knees. Remus’ name is the only word you seem capable of saying as the coil inside your stomach snaps and rapidly unravels as you come undone.

“Remus, Remus, Remus!”

You connect your lips with Remus’ in a lame attempt to shut yourself up, the kiss is rushed and your teeth clash together but you don’t give a fuck. Remus’ name is still spilling from your lips and into Remus’ mouth as your body begins to come down from the high.

The boy holding you up hasn’t faltered in his movements at all, determined to fuck you through your orgasm. There’s beads of sweat dripping from Remus’ forehead, his mind is whirling and thoughts of you are spiralling around his brain, he thinks he might pass out and he’s certain he does for a second when you whisper and bite his earlobe.

“Want you to cum inside me Remus, fill me up,” half a thrust later and Remus’ hips stutter and he’s spilling into your cunt groaning your name as he does so. His vision blurs around the edges before he closes his eyes and he lets out a moan so deep, primal and loud. Remus continues to rock his hips milking his own orgasm until the last drop is squeezed from his soften cock. He stills his movements but doesn’t dare pull out just yet, relishing in the warmth of your pussy and the way your hand is brushing the sweaty hair off his forehead. You rest your forehead against Remus’ sweaty one, pecking his lips, once, twice then three times.

“That was…” you drift off unable to find the right words to describe what just happened.

“Intense?” Remus offers breathlessly.

You nod, “in the best way.”

It wasn’t until you hear the sounds of students outside signalling the end of class do either of you move, Remus helping you clean yourself up. And it wasn’t until the two of you were certain the coast was clear did you exit the closet with the promise of doing that again very soon.

[somewhatgreatexpectations]

Rooftop Conversations (Wanda Maximoff/ Reader/ Yelena Belova)

Hi everyone!

This is a little shorter, but hope you all enjoy!

Summary: Reader shares a complicated history with Wanda. What will happen when Natasha introduces her sister to the problem? Who will reader end up with?

“Y/n.”

The closer you got the tower you called home; the more anxiety began to bubble in your chest. You had been away for over three months now and the entire time you were away Yelena refused to accept any of your calls. Admittedly they were few and far between due to circumstances, but the rare instances when you were able to get your hands on a phone, the other woman would always be miraculously busy.

You didn’t blame her.

Not in the slightest. Still, with every flimsy excuse Natasha gave you whenever you asked to speak to Yelena, you couldn’t help but feel that you were losing a part of yourself. Yelena was woven into your being and being shut off from her was something that was… entirely your fault.

It always made your heart ache though. To know she didn't want to even speak to you. To be away from her. There was so much about her you missed. Like her voice, her laugh, her jokes…

You just missed her.

“Y/n!” You jumped slightly and turned your attention to Steve who was glancing at you out of the corner of his eye. “Everything okay?”

All you managed was a weak nod as you focused back on the world around you. It was something you had to do often over the last few months. “Fine.” You replied, turning to face him as you awaited whatever it was he wanted to say.

“You can stop fidgeting with your necklace. We shut down all the bases. That’s all we could do.” He eventually said.

It wasn’t until Steve pointed it out that you realized that your fingers were fiddling absently with the charm that was hanging from the necklace Wanda had given you before you left. “What are you talking about?” you questioned, your brows furrowed in confusion.

Steve gestured broadly in your general area with one hand, while the other hand remained on the controls of the quinjet. “Whenever you get nervous you start fiddling with the necklace.” His hands returned to the controls as he shifted his attention. “Like a safety blanket.”

Grumbling absently, you folded your hands and looked out the window like a child who had just been caught doing something you weren’t supposed to. “Says the one with the pocket watch.”

In response, Steve shrugged. “Touché.”

You smirked and leaned back in your chair. “That’s what I thought." He chuckled. "Besides, I know we did all we could on the mission. I’ve come to terms with Dr. Wilkerson getting away, without his bases of support though he’s nothing.”

“Is that not what you were nervous about?” Steve prodded.

You shook your head. “I’m worried Yelena is going to hate me forever.” You admitted, your hand once again flying up to fiddle with the charm on your necklace.

Steve whistled lowly. “Still no word from her?” You shook your head again. “All you can do is be honest, kid. Earn her forgiveness. While you may have had good intentions, you lied. Even if it was to protect her. She reserves the right to be angry about it.”

“I know.” You replied. “I agree entirely, but… I don’t want to lose her. I can’t lose her. She-… She means… Everything to me.”

There was a moment of silence. “Do you love her?”

It had been months since you had allowed yourself time to think about the inner workings of your heart, yet the answer remained the same and came with no hesitation. “Yes.”

Steve nodded. “Does that mean you’re over Wanda then?”

The question took you by surprise and suddenly the pendant burned under your touch, like every nerve ending in your body went haywire. Overwhelmed with the thought of the two women that unabashedly occupied your heart. You feebly let your hand fall back to your lap.

Again, silence hovered in the air until, “No.” You replied softly, knowing it was the truth. Knowing you had no reason to lie to Steve.

Again, there was no hesitation in your answer.

“Sounds like you still have a lot to figure out then, kid.” Steve reached over and pat your shoulder sympathetically, “Between you and me though, I always thought you and Wanda would find your way back to each other. You’ve always been like magnets you two.” He admitted. “Natasha disagrees with me. She seems to think that you and Yelena are the most irritatingly perfect match. Her words not mine.”

You narrowed your eyes slightly. “You and Romanoff better not be placing bets on my love life again. You remember what happened last time, Rogers.” You warned with a point of your finger.

Steve chuckled and raised his hands innocently. “No bets were made. I’m just telling you the information.” He paused slightly. “Though I will say if it was a bet, I'd probably win since I did say Wanda would be the one to ask you out originally because you’d be too nervous to even get a word out. You won me fifty bucks that day.”

You punched his shoulder. “I can’t stand any of you.”

“That’s what families do.” You rolled your eyes and chose not to respond as you both distracted yourselves with your own tasks.

Just over an hour later Steve spoke again. “Hope you got enough thinking done because we’re touching down at the compound in five minutes.”

You sucked in a breath as the clouds opened up and the sharp points of the familiar building filled the sky before you.

Suddenly it was as if you blinked, and Steve was lowering the quinjet onto the waiting platform. “It’s good to be home.” You mumbled as you gathered what little you had and walked off the jet with Steve.

Before you could get far, you were met with an armful of someone else causing you to drop everything in your arms to catch the other person.

When the familiar floral scent invaded your senses, you quickly relaxed and held on tighter, relishing in the moment. The comfort that you hadn’t felt in months. “I missed you too, Wanda.” You whispered into her ear as you tucked your chin over her shoulder.

“You have no idea.” Wanda replied as you both held tightly to each other. You faintly heard Steve mumble how he would take your things inside for you, but his words barely registered as you familiarized yourself with the touch you hadn’t felt in months.

Suddenly, it felt like you were grounded again. Like you had been drifting freely and now, being back by her side you felt anchored again. Connected to the world in a way that mattered again.

Sure, you had managed to speak to Wanda briefly a handful of times over the course of your mission, but those sparse minutes were nothing compared to the sensation of actually being in her arms once again.

“It’s good to see you again.” You said leaning back slightly and taking in her every feature, every speck of color in her eyes. This was the longest you had gone without seeing her since the day you both met. “How did you know we were coming back? We wrapped up a few days early, I thought it would fly under the radar.”

Wanda smiled sheepishly back at you, and you couldn’t help the way your own lips pulled up endearingly at the sight. “I may have convinced Tony to program a new feature to FRIDAY that would let me know when you landed.”

A small chuckle of amusement slipped pat your lips. “Yeah? How did you manage that?”

“I may have pulled the Stark missile card.” Wanda answered with a small shrug.

“Didn’t know you couldn’t be so devious, Maximoff.” You teased as Wanda playfully dusted the invisible dirt off her shoulders.

That was when another voice interrupted the moment. “Really? You didn’t?” You turned your head to find the source of the interruption, though from the voice you knew exactly who it was. “I’ve known for a while now.”

Wanda pulled away from you and looked away, rubbing her own arm uncomfortably. “Nat,” You warned. “I just got back; can we not fight first thing?”

Natasha looked between you and Wanda for another moment as if she was contemplating her choices before opening her arms in silent invitation. “Fine, I’ll play nice. Sorry Maximoff.” Wanda nodded in acknowledgment. You suspected she was still terrified of the other woman.

You glanced at Wanda to be sure she was okay before walking over to your best friend and embracing her just as tightly, finding comfort in her embrace. Comfort in knowing that they were all okay while you were gone. That was all you could have wanted. You missed this. All of it.

Regardless of how chaotic it could be at times.

“I assume you didn’t manage to play nice while I was gone. No wonder I stayed away so long.” You said playfully as Natasha pinched you side. You swatted her hand and pulled away in protest. “Is this how you show how much you miss me?”

Natasha rolled her eyes, “Miss you being an idiot? Sure.” She nudged you playfully. “It’ll be nice to have you back though, the compound hasn’t felt the same without you.”

“It really hasn’t.” Wanda agreed, wincing when she saw the blank look Natasha gave her.

You shook your head, “Nothing has changed.” You lightly rested your forehead on Natasha’s, so she could focus on you, so she could hear the sincerity of your next words. “I did miss you, you know? No need to be snappy.”

Natasha finally cracked a smile. “I know, I missed you too.” She lightly nudged your nose with her own before pulling away and ruffling your hair.

You smiled back at her but couldn’t help but look over Natasha’s shoulder a moment later. If Natasha knew you were back, then it was only safe to assume that… “Is- Is Yelena in her room?”

Amusement began shining in Natasha’s eyes. “Couldn’t even go ten minutes without asking about her, could you?” Heat quickly rushed into your cheeks. “She’s on a mission with Clint, should be back later today. Just light recon about a minor disturbance a few cities over.”

“Surprised you let her go without you.” You mumbled, already anticipating the moment of Yelena's return, mentally preparing all the ways you could earn her forgiveness.

“Tony had me on a separate assignment until this morning.” Natasha explained. “Besides, she’s with Barton, they’re both in good company. Safe.”

You nodded, if Natasha wasn’t worried then you had no reason to either. “I-” You lowered your voice. “Will you let me know when she’s back? Don’t tell her I’m here until I get a chance to talk to her, please, I don’t want her to avoid me anymore. I want to apologize. To make it up to her.”

Natasha analyzed you for a moment, analyzed your pleading tone before nodding. “I’ll give you this one shot because I know you only did what you did to protect her... I would have done the same.” She looked over your shoulder before looking back at you. “Now, I think I’ll head inside. We can catch up later. Don’t do anything that will make me have to kick your ass.” She warned.

Before you could utter a reply, your best friend had disappeared into the compound. “She actually talked to me once while you were gone. It was about a mission report, but still, she’s not ignoring me anymore.” You heard Wanda say from behind you.

You chuckled slightly as you turned to face her again, gesturing for her to follow behind you. “That’s actually great news to hear. I miss being able to spend time with both of you.” You leaned against the railing of the landing pad and let the wind traveling through the air be the only sound for a moment.

Wanda mimicked your position, her arms brushing yours, your own pinky shifting slightly to be in contact with hers.

It was like Steve said, there was something magnetic about you both and it felt even stronger after the separation. You couldn’t help but feel like you wanted to be closer. Your free hand raised to fidget with the charm on the necklace nervously.

“Still wearing the necklace, I see.” Wanda noted, her eyes shining happily in the light of day.

A faint blush quickly spread over your cheeks, and you managed a weak nod, your hand once again falling from the charm. “Steve says it’s my safety blanket.”

Wanda’s smile widened. “I didn’t know if you’d even use it since you had given it back to me after we broke up.”

You shrugged halfheartedly. “We’re past that. It represents more now. It represents you.” The sound of Wanda’s breath hitching caught your attention and you couldn’t help but feel your heart hammer in your chest. You just hoped she would change the subject, the vulnerability felt all too much in that moment. "It was nice to have on the mission."

“How did the mission go? I assume well since both you and Steve are back in one piece.” Wanda eventually asked, breaking the charged silence much to your relief. She always was good at reading your wants.

You nodded faintly, eagerly responding to the change of topic. “It did. We shut down every base we set out to, which was all of them.” You could see the happy smile form on Wanda’s lips, and you continued. “We did everything we set out to do except catch Dr. Wilkerson.”

Wanda’s smile fell almost immediately. She knew Dr. Wilkerson was your greatest enemy, your greatest fear. “Are you okay?” As the last word fell from her lips, her pinky moved to rest over yours, as if she herself wanted to be closer. To comfort you.

In response you turned you hand over in silent invitation and Wanda accept the offer immediately, her fingers tangling naturally with your own. “I feel okay, Steve still thinks we can catch him. He won’t get too far… I know he wants to take me back.” Wanda’s fingers tightened against yours. “Don’t worry, without the bases, without his minions? He’s nothing. Powerless. It’s only a matter of time.”

“The day he tries to come after you will be his last.” Wanda said seriously, her eyes darkening at the mere thought. “He won’t hurt you again, Y/n.”

You squeezed her hand, you knew Wanda would never hurt anyone, but her protective nature may change that. You’d never want to put her in that position. “I know, Wands. Don’t worry, Steve and I will find him. I’ll be okay.”

Her lips turned up faintly. “I know, I’ll be here to make sure of it. I’ll protect you, Y/n.”

“And even though you're infinitely stronger than me, I will protect you.” Wanda giggled slightly and you smiled back at her.

For a moment you both just stared at one another, allowing yourselves to get lost in the moment, moving closer and closer until you could feel her breath fan across your lips. You quickly looked away. Not ready to take that step. Not ready to ruin the leaps and bounds of progress you had made with her.

“Now fill me in on what I missed while I was gone.” You said in hopes of brushing over the minor traces of awkwardness that lingered in the air.

That was how both you and Wanda spent the remainder of the day, catching up on everything that had happened in the last few months, the hours slipping away with ease. There was only one thing that could ruin a relaxing evening like that.

And it was the sight of a smaller quinjet landing a few feet away. Your heart began hammering in your chest because the only other ones out on a mission were Yelena and Clint.

The woman that had occupied your mind so deeply was now just seconds away from you.

Except when the doors to the quinjet opened and Clint was the only one to step out, looking battered and bruised. Your stomach dropped at the sight.

You ran over, Wanda following closely behind. “Clint, where is Yelena?”

It was like Clint had just seen a ghost, his eyes widening even more than they already were. “Where is Natasha?”

“Whe-”

“WHERE IS NATASHA!” He yelled, his voice reverberating in the air around you.

Bile climbed up your throat in tandem with the panic you felt squeeze at your chest as the three of you ran into the compound in search of the other woman.

A few moments later you found her lounging in the main room of the compound with a notebook in her hands. Natasha immediately looked up when she heard the sound of panicked footsteps enter the room. “Clint, what-”

Clint quickly interrupted her, his panicked expression making you sick as you anticipated his next words.

“They took her. They took Yelena.”

And just like that, the world stopped.

And that's all folks! This chapter was more of a set-up for the unraveling of the remainder of this story which I now know will be 12 parts total. Sorry for no Yelena in this part. As always, thoughts and comments are always welcome!

Previous part: "Necessary Lies"

Masterlist: "Omen"

Tag list:

@abimess // @helloalycia // @imapotatao // @madamevirgo // @magicallymaximoff // @women-am-i-right @myfavoriteficss // @spicysashimi // @olsensnpm // @natasha-danvers // @xxxtwilightaxelxxx // @7thavenger // @aimezvousbrahms // @yourtaletotell // @purplemeetsblue // @b0mbdotc0m // @cristin-rjd // @trikruismybitch // @hopelesslyfallenninlove // @when-wolves-howl // @b-5by5 // @mionemymind

@sighsam // @simonsbluee // @pxterstrk // @heyyoweveryone // @euphoriaszn2 // @nosense-blog // @stressed-but-a-mess // @tomy5girls // @prentisshoe // @ghostyfacey // @imasimpfornatashamaximoff // @3and30aresoultwins // @gayarchnemessis // @https-sunshine // @donnietarantino // @lezzzbehonesthere // @chaekhan // @cxld-blood // @loomontoia // @ouat2017 // @anxiousgoldengirl // @lostandsearching //@liladoesfanfics // @just-a-normalpersons // @wandamaximoffsrings // @marvelwomen-simp // @hopemikaelslay // @im-in-lesbians-with-u // @paumxmff // @hitchgoonie // @yelenabelovasgf // @psychadelichues // @amourtentiaa // @yeeterthekeeper // @daniescady // @iliketozoneout // @megsi98 // @cyberbonesworld // @liver-casserole // @Andy-aj-rose // @chonisbestmistake // @gaylor-okay // @rwritesstuff // @ithrewmypieforglee //

[rcksmith]

Be good — Five Hargreeves.

Requests: “can i get car sex w/five and lots of praise kink tyyyy 💖💖”

“Hi! Could I request smut prompts 11, 22, and 29 as well as fluff 40 for five hargreeves? Ty!”

Smut prompts:

11. “She may seem like lollipops and rainbows but i bet behind closed doors she’s latex and whips.”

22. “I’m not going to touch you unless you beg.”

29. “I didn’t know you were so sensitive.”

Fluff prompts:

40. “Come cuddle.”

A/N: We not tolerate any pedophilia here !!

I write about Five with their 20s. I write the same about the characters of Harry Potter.

I hope you guys like💖I decided to compile these two requests, since they were the same energy and they prompts connect to a central plot. I added all the elements that were asked for individually, and made sure that all ideas were respected and written down. Good reading.

English is not my first language, so I so sorry if have a mistake.

Requests are open. Love you ❤️

Couple: Five Hargreeves / Fem! Reader.

Warnings: explicit smut, degradation, dirty talk, bad words, fluff.

— — — — —

Part of Five thought it was absurd to feel this way, so wrong. You were young, so young, with an adventurous face in your 20s and bright eyes. Full of life and with such a loose spirit. You had that cool breeze with a free soul, a bright smile and, holy mother of God, you had a body that would be the reason why he would be banished from paradise.

There was something about your youthful innocence that clenched Five's teeth, that made him clench fists to control the urges to touch you at any time. This irritated him deeply.

You were so... so... sweet.

So fucking sweet. From your summer dresses, your delicate mouth, doe eyes and silky hair. You looked like a fucking princess and Five wanted to destroy you for that. You didn't look real. It looked like it came out of a fairy tale and it hit something very deep in Five. Oh, he was burning in a very dangerous fire.

Worst of all, you always knew what you were doing with him. And the way you pretend you don't make him even more angry.

Five remembers the exact moment when he threw in the towel, stopped fighting that insane desire and kissed you as if you were the last glass of water in the desert. And all of this was caused by a trigger so simple, ridiculous to be honest.

He gave up control one afternoon, when you were playing cards with Klaus in the living room, you had just won and got up, saying that you were going to get your phone that you were carrying in another room.

“It's hard to try to be mad at her, she's so cute.” Klaus said to Five, making a gesture in the air that represented pinching your cheeks.

If Five's mood hadn't been bad before, it was bad now. He rolled his eyes, hiding the expression on lips when he took a sip of coffee.

“You should learn from her, who knows" Klaus shrugged “She is so nice and you are... well, you are you.” Klaus pointed to Five's entire body, in a teasing of brother.

The deadly look that Five gave his brother made Klaus laugh even more. God, he was an idiot!

“Doesn't she look like those little movie fairies?”

“Is annoying.” Five rolled his eyes.

“It’s cute.” Klaus defended you “But you know, I think it's just superficial.”

That caught Five's attention, and Klaus realized and started to explain.

“She told me that she likes some more ... crude things, if you know what I mean.” Oh, Five understood “She may seem like lollipops and rainbows but i bet behind closed doors she’s latex and whips.”

So Five was shipwrecked by Images of you. Tied to the bed, in white lingerie, your lips swollen from using that princess mouth of for something else. The giant wave invaded he mind like a ball of destruction, demolishing the entire barrier of self-control he had struggled to build. Brick by brick.

Five wanted to erase those images from his head, to exclude any universe in which you were on all fours for him, begging for more, with that fucking cute voice of yours.

But no matter how hard he tried, Klaus' words brought endless malicious situations that did not come out of Five’s mind.

So that's when he gave up. It was ridiculous to be controlling yourself like a puritan, like a stupid little boy who didn't know what to do.

And Five knew exactly what wanted to do to you.

Then, that afternoon, he disappeared in front of Klaus in the blue flash and reappeared in the room you were in. You must have said something, but Five didn't hear it, or didn't want to hear it. He just walked up to you, put his hands on your waist and kissed you with all the desire that the world had.

He barely touched you and you were already a modeling clay in he hands, sighing with strong touches, with raw kisses, purring like a kitten.

“I didn’t know you were so sensitive." Five whispered against your mouth before he kissed you again.

Five Hargreeves thought that fucking you once would placate that sickly fire that was inside him. But it didn't placate, in fact, it was like pouring gasoline on the fire.

Everything inside him became wilder, more hungry, needy. And that was why he was there, fucking you hard in the car, on an abandoned street.

You moaned loudly, the top of your little red summer dress lowered, exposing your breasts that bounced as you slipped on Five's lap. The air was caustic and pungent, the two of you gasped, sighed, let out toxic and broken moans.

Their bodies clashed as if the world was going to end in that second, and Five did not have the strength to squeeze your hips, pulling you down and up with brutality, pushing him dick deeper into you with every bounce you gave.

“So fucking tight!” He snarled, lowering his left hand to your ass, lifting the fabric of the dress and slapping you.

You contained the cry, pressing your lips against him neck, the tears already burning in your eyes. Five don't slow down the ruthless pace, fucking you with the fury of an animal, as if I've never fucked you before.

“Such a good pussy!” He hand let go of your skin to wrap his fingers in your hair on the back of neck, pulling your face into his, making you receive the moans against your mouth. “I can't get enough of eating you! Good fucking slut!”

You could see the anger, desire, lust and wildness in he eyes. Five wanted to destroy you and, god, you loved it. You let go of that innocent and mysterious smile that left him even more out of control, and Five slapped you down again, but now on your left cheek.

“Don't look like that to me!” He pulled your chin up at him "Otherwise, you're going to get out of here without being able to walk right!"

But it was logical that you did not hear. Truth be told, you were a fucking tease. You liked the game, the hunt, the adrenaline. You liked to play with fire, and Five Hargreeves was not just a flame, but the entire fire.

“Do... do what D-daddy?” You used your best voice, seeing he anger and lust spilling out of he green eyes.

Then you gave that smile again, more neat, more painful and more innocent, and Five snarled like a wild animal that has just come out of captivity. He immediately took you off his lap, taking he dick out of you.

“Go to the fucking backseat. Now!”

You obeyed, going to the backseat and placing yourself on all fours, resting your chest on the seat while lifting your hips.

“You already know how to stand. You are is a little slut, really!” Then a loud slap came on your ass, and you bit your palm to keep from screaming.

“D...Daddy!” You whined.

Five pinned your hair up in a ponytail with he hand, pulling your body back until it was glued and glued to his.

"I'm not going to touch you unless you beg." He snarled in your ear, the hot temperature of he dick an inch from your needy center.

“Please!” You cried “I'm go to be b-good! I promise, daddy!”

“Beg!” One more slap.

“Please!” You rummaged your hips, trying to make any contact. “Please!”

Then Five entered you. Strong, rough, badly and aggressive. He barely gave you time to moan before he started hitting your fragile walls, flooding your eyes with tears that flowed. It was too much stimulation, too much strength, too much desire that made your body want to scream. You and Five had a security password, but you were too horny to want to use it because of the pain.

“So fucking good tis pussy!” Five kept his hand firmly in your hair and the other on your hips, pulling you to his dick. “You have to be a desperate slut to give it to me in the car, don't you?” another slap “Such a needy little slut.”

“Yes, d-daddy!”

Then he continued, relentless. You turned your face to see him, and that was even more of a discharge of electricity between your legs.

Five's coal-black hair was sweaty, clinging to his forehead, with a few droplets running down his firm face. He was without a suit, his shirt wrinkled and unbuttoned, his sleeves rolled up, exposing his vein-streaked arms, marking the white skin that was covered with a layer of sweat mist.

His green eyes contained all the wildness, fury and lust in the world. He looked like an angry young god. And that took you to the apex.

Five let out a short, husky, sneering laugh at how fast you always came for him, and he increased his movements until he poured the hot liquid as deep as possible into you.

“Your pussy is so good.” He whispered in your ear, slowing you two heartbeat with a few kisses on your shoulder.

Five pulled the suit that was lying on the floor of the car, placing it under you and turning you on top of the cloth, so that the cum dripped on the suit instead of the seat. He watched in lust as the cum poured out of you.

Five pulled the air against his teeth, not controlling himself and leaning towards you, sticking your lips together in an angry kiss.

“You are so hot." You smirked at his comment.

“Where were we even going?” You laughed.

"Home."

You loved how he used the word "home" with you. As if it were the home of the two of you.

“Take a shower and have dinner?” Five nodded, removing a lock of his hair from his face. "And after... we are come cuddle?”

He laughed, shrugging and sticking his lips to yours again.

“If that is going to make you stop talking. Of course, dear.” He grunted playfully on your lips, and you laughed.

God, you loved that man.

[logosbot-tm-fics]

What's this? A chapter? Only about a week later?

Who am I?

Also!!! Please read the notes and summaries. (They’re over on ao3 tho-)

Take My Tea With Formaldehyde

[Start] [<Previous] [Next>]

Chapter 7: Say My Name Like A Slur

(More beneath the cut)

It had been a while since Iskall had last been at Mumbo’s place.

They’d been far too busy, constantly trying to keep up with Ariana, and, more importantly, far too busy trying their best to keep their job. So far, it seemed to be rather stressful, because when they showed up they looked as if they hadn’t slept for weeks.

Even so, they were smiling, chattering as easily as always as the pair caught up. They seemed to be in an almost contagiously good mood, one which had Mumbo grinning along with their enthusiasm. Mumbo made tea as they spoke, Iskall leaning against the doorframe with a yawn as they watched his process. Once he was done, Mumbo piled their mugs, milk and the teapot onto a tray, and the pair began towards the living room.

“–more or less, I…” Iskall trailed off. They’d stopped in their tracks, staring surprisedly at the walls. “Mumbo?” They asked, eyes darting around.

“Yeah?” Mumbo responded, following them into the living room and setting the tray down on the coffee table.

“Where did your posters go?” They asked, their tone confused, as if the sudden lack of Ariana was shocking enough to be a cause for concern.

Mumbo hadn’t really expected Iskall to ask about them… but then again, they hadn’t been there in a rather long while.

“Oh, I took them down,” he said casually, shrugging.

“Why?” Iskall prodded, and well… Mumbo supposed that he could understand why they asked. He used to rant a lot about Ariana and the posters had been up since what felt like forever. It must appear pretty strange that the walls were blank.

“I–” He cut himself off, a bit unsure if the explanation for ‘why’ would make sense. “Grian has been acting weird lately,” he began, sitting down heavily on the couch and crossing his legs. “Which– yes, I know, it’s not unusual for him– but something about his behaviour has been… weirder than usual.“

He paused, trying to figure out how to explain the lack of posters without ranting or invading Grian’s privacy. “Uh– anyway, long story short, they seemed to make Grian uncomfortable, so I took them down.”

“Oh…” Iskall frowned, their brows furrowed. They were staring intently at one particular spot where a signed poster had once hung, a strange tension about their form.

Mumbo had been very proud of that poster, he knew that the both of them remembered that. In fact, he had almost cried when Iskall gave it to him, getting immediately teary-eyed at the sight of the signature. It read ‘To Mumbo, xo Ariana’, and he hadn’t stopped mentioning it for weeks afterwards.

“And you don't want them up?” They asked suddenly, crossing their arms.

“Well, yeah I do,” Mumbo said as a-matter-of-factly, “But I don't want Grian to be uncomfortable here, and I’d much rather take down the posters if it makes him feel better.”

Iskall hummed in response, something long and contemplative. The sound didn’t seem either supportive or unsupportive of Mumbo’s decision, it just was there to confirm that Iskall had heard what Mumbo had said.

“They’re in my room anyway,“ he jerked his head in the direction of his room. “I’m thinking about putting them up there.”

“Ah, okay, I see…” Iskall looked at Mumbo hesitantly, like there was something else that they wanted to say. They cleared their throat after a moment, “I– what do you mean when you say that Grian is acting… weird?“

“Oh, uh– I don’t really know how to explain it, he’s just acting… off," Mumbo stuttered, trying to figure out the best way to explain Grian's odd behaviour. "He’s- he’s not acting like himself, I’ve never seen him like this before. He just– it feels like he’s changed? Like he keeps changing? He did again after a conversation we ha–” Mumbo stopped himself.

Talking about the conversation didn't feel like a good idea. It had been about Iskall's identity, and telling Iskall that felt rude. The way Grian behaved probably didn't have anything to do with Iskall in reality, but the idea of forcing them to come out to Grian left a bitter taste in Mumbo's mouth. He thought that maybe, it was better left unsaid.

Iskall looked at Mumbo questioningly. "What conversation?" They asked.

"Can't really remember, actually," Mumbo lied, biting his tongue. "I've tried to, but I guess Grian's reaction just stuck with me more. He kinda… zoned out? Dropped a plate on the floor, and… honestly it seemed like he wasn't really aware of his surroundings at all.”

He tried desperately to swallow down the guilt of leaving out so many important parts. It was better if they didn’t know.

Iskall sat down on the couch next to him, leaning forward pouring some tea from the pot on the tray.

"Weird," they said, passing Mumbo the mug. "Very weird."

~

A week later, Mumbo and Iskall were talking about it again, as they hung out in Mumbo’s living room once again. They were discussing ways to make Grian happy, even if it was just for a short while, with both of them becoming increasingly concerned about the small man.

Sure, watching movies did work, but Mumbo knew that finding something else that worked would be good too. Besides, those moments where the two of them cuddled together on the couch and watched films felt too private, and Mumbo wanted to keep them that way. It was nothing that he had against Iskall, he just… enjoyed the time alone with Grian.

Which is how Mumbo and Iskall came up with the idea to take Grian out clubbing, somewhere fun where he could just let himself enjoy the moment. It felt like something to look forward to, so they hoped that it would serve as a good distraction. Iskall and Mumbo had gone out together a few times, but that was a long time ago. They had enjoyed it at the time, exploring the nightlife that their city had to offer and spending time together just letting loose so, both of them felt like it would be a good idea.

Grian needed something to make him happy, anything at all, and going out seemed like it would probably cheer him up, even if just a bit.

Even though Mumbo rarely went to clubs and often preferred to stay at home from time to time, the idea of going felt fun for him as well. Besides, it had been a while since Mumbo got out of the apartment. Any excuse to get out felt like a good excuse.

Grian, on the other hand, seemed to enjoy clubs. More than Iskall and Mumbo had expected. They brought up the idea to Grian when the three of them were all hanging out at Mumbo's place, and Grian immediately said yes.

He had seemed a little lighter for the rest of the evening, a little more excited by the prospect of another day.

When the night finally rolled around, Grian was almost vibrating with joy – his hands waving expressively whenever he spoke, bouncing rhythmically on his toes. It made Mumbo’s heart skip a beat, his stomach filling with butterflies. Grian's joy was just infectious, and he couldn’t stop a wide smile from painting itself across his lips.

Grian had even dressed up a bit, even though both of the others had just put on a pair of dark pants and an okayish looking shirt. Hell, Mumbo would say that he himself was a lot more dressed down than usual, since he dressed in suits most of the time.

Grian wore a black skirt that fell just above his knees, swaying with him every time he moved, and a sparkling red shirt that clung to his frame in all the right ways. Shining gemstone earrings decorated his ears, dangling from them and being cushioned in his fluffy hair, and his makeup was more glittery than Mumbo had ever seen. It was bold and bright, something eye-catching and almost professional in the way that the red eyeshadow followed the curves of his face, the sharp eyeliner accentuating his features. Even his shoes shone in the dim light as they walked to the club, the short heels clicking against the pavement as he danced along the street.

All in all, Mumbo thought that he looked very, very good.

At the club, Mumbo saw how Grian seemed to light up as soon as he stepped onto the dance floor. There was just something magnetising about him, something enchanting which commanded attention from all the eyes around the room. Sure, Mumbo had seen Grian dance before – after all, it was difficult to keep the man still on the best of days; whenever there was an opportunity for him to be twirling around the room, he took it – but he hadn't expected Grian to be that good.

Mumbo wasn’t much of a dancer at all, but the way that Grian moved left him bewitched, and before he had even realised that he was moving, Mumbo found himself on the dance floor.

It was a bit difficult to say whether or not he'd stepped onto the dance floor himself, or if it had been Grian who had dragged him out onto it, but Mumbo couldn't really find it in him to care either way. Seeing Grian that happy felt like a blessing, like a sign that things were going to get better.

Mumbo glanced over at Iskall, who just smiled at him and took a sip of their drink, when he felt Grian drape his arm over Mumbo's shoulder.

"Having fun?" Grian asked, smiling at him.

If Mumbo was more sober, perhaps he would have been a blushing, stuttering mess, but he was somewhat tipsy, so instead he put his hands on Grian's hips.

"Very fun," he replied, pulling Grian closer to him with a smile.

Grian laughed loudly, throwing his head back as the flashing club lights reflected off of his shining earrings, and put his other arm over Mumbo's shoulder. The two of them moved in sync on the dance floor, laughing and bumping into the waves of crowding bodies as they danced.

They were practically pressed against each other, the sea of people around them forcing them closer and closer, yet neither let go. It felt as if they were testing the waters, figuring how close they could get before one of them broke.

Mumbo glanced at Iskall again, and saw how they just smiled smugly back at Mumbo, raising their glass from where they sat. Mumbo smiled back, his heart about to escape from his chest.

When Mumbo went over to Iskall, just to take a break, he couldn't take his eyes off Grian.

He looked so natural dancing along to pop songs. It was one of Ariana’s songs playing, and she seemed to make him uncomfortable somehow, but… he'd never seen anyone else dance in the way that he did. Like he knew every thought behind every word, like the words were there just for him.

Iskall's smile had turned from smug to secretive as they also watched Grian dance.

They didn't leave the club until one in the morning, Mumbo and Grian saying goodbye to Iskall as they reached the crossroads between Iskall and Mumbo’s apartments. They all had work in the morning, and no one really felt like staying any longer and ending up completely exhausted, nor did they feel like ending up black out drunk or hungover.

God, how Mumbo wanted to know exactly what that smile meant.

~

Grian held a tight grip on Mumbo’s arm, giggling loudly as they walked, still a bit tipsy. They were going in the same direction, so going together only felt like the logical conclusion. Besides, Grian had seemed weirdly insistent on having Mumbo follow him to his apartment. Not that Mumbo complained. Quite the opposite in fact; he said yes without a second thought.

Mumbo tried his best at pushing down the butterflies that he felt whenever Grian touched him. Unfortunately for him, he wasn't totally sober, which made ignoring the giddiness at the other’s soft touches a lot easier said than done. At first the walk home had been pleasant, with Grian jokingly flirting with him, as Mumbo flirted back to the best of his abilities.

Had he drunk a little less, he might have worried about Grian finding out his feelings. But, like this, he didn’t see any harm in indulging for once, and Grian didn't seem to notice at all, just smiling or giggling at whatever Mumbo said.

The journey took a turn for the worse when they turned down a dim street, some hidden shortcut that apparently Grian was very familiar with. There were a pair of men sitting at the side of the road, empty bottles of beer between them as they spoke loudly, clearly drunk. It didn’t take them long to notice the others, what with Mumbo quietly trying his best to hurry Grian along. The moment that their presence seemed to register, they started to yell.

They aimed their catcalling towards Grian, whistling and yelling at him as he readjusted his skirt slightly. Mumbo wanted to confront them, to march over to them and give them a piece of his mind, but Grian just brushed it off.

He said that he was often mistaken for a girl, that he was used to it by now, and just continued walking past. He confided in Mumbo, his words slightly slurred, that he had never had it happen with someone passing as a guy next to him.

Mumbo felt, for a lack of a better word, disturbed.

They eventually realised that Grian wasn't a girl, and, at that point, the catcalling turned into slurs. They were hurled like knives towards the pair, all of them aimed at Grian, trying to strike him down. Grian looked uneasy as well by that point, and it did nothing to calm Mumbo.

Even so, Grian just wanted to keep walking, holding Mumbo's hand tighter by the second. Mumbo didn't feel opposed in the slightest. Even so, part of him wanted to confront the guys, yell at them for being absolute pathetic excuses for humans.

“Just ignore them,” Grian whispered, his head ducked low and something tense shining in his eyes. Mumbo nodded, tugging him just a little bit closer until they were walking practically as one.

It didn’t work. It didn’t do anything to deter the men, who took their silence as encouragement, continuing to scream slurs and insults and threats. Mumbo could feel tears in his eyes, but Grian didn’t say a word. They kept walking.

Then, their attention shifted. The men laughed loudly, nudging each other as they stood up, beginning to yell slurs and insults at Mumbo instead. It was as if to test how far they could go, as if to show just how much they could push them around. The noise was invasive, resounding through Mumbo’s ears as he tried his best not to cry, his grip on Grian’s hand weak and clammy.

Grian spun around at the first comment in Mumbo’s direction, fire burning behind his eyes as he yelled back at them, his words dripping with venom as his tongue lashed insult after insult.

Mumbo wanted to leave, to go home, to undo the fact that they had gone out to begin with. He wished they had stayed at home watching movies instead, he wished he was anywhere else.

But it was no use, there was no undoing those choices. There was no retreating from the situation they found themselves in; in the middle of a dim street late at night, with flickering streetlights and raised voices.

At some point, Grian dropped Mumbo’s sweaty hand and rushed over to the men. Mumbo tried desperately to recapture his grip, to pull him away and make them run as far as they could… but he failed, watching in horror as Grian ran towards them. He expected Grian to get hit, to immediately crash to the ground. He expected to have to call an ambulance, to watch his best friend being hurt.

Instead, he watched as Grian reeled back his first, punching one of the taller men in the nose. There was a violent crack as the hit connected, and Mumbo watched breathlessly as blood gushed over his lips, dripping from his chin. He must have been caught off guard, fooled by Grian’s short stature and unsuspecting form, because he reeled backwards, falling to the ground as if in slow motion.

Grian was yelling, screaming something at them with such visceral hatred that Mumbo could feel it chilling his veins. He spat and growled and clawed as the other man ran away, leaving his friend dazed on the ground.

Mumbo ran over to Grian, forcing him away from the scene before the guy gathered his bearings. Sure, he had definitely deserved it, but he didn’t want Grian to get hurt. He didn't want him and Grian to stay for longer. He didn't want the cops to show up and make the already miserable night worse.

So he dragged Grian away, listening helplessly as he began to sob, his knuckles bruised and bloody.

Somehow, they managed to get away without the cops showing up. Though, that could be because the guys didn't want to get caught either.

They really should've stayed at home.

~

It was silent as Mumbo put bandages on Grian's bruised knuckles. For once, they were in Grian's apartment – it had been closer to the bar, and going all the way to Mumbo's just… didn’t feel worth it.

When they stepped inside, Grian immediately let go of his vice-like grip on Mumbo's hand, throwing his bag across the room and kicking his shoes off as quickly as possible. Mumbo, on the other hand, took a moment to just take in his surroundings.

He hadn't been in the apartment in ages, and nothing much had changed but… despite that, it felt as if he was stepping into a stranger's home. The place felt off, as if someone had gone inside and moved everything just a centimetre to the left.

He shook his head, snapping out of his thoughts. He heard Grian rummage through the drawers and cabinets in the bathroom, silently cursing as his bruised hands brushed against things. Mumbo stared at the bright, fluorescent light from the bathroom, taking a deep breath before going in as well.

That's how they ended up with Grian sitting on the toilet lid with Mumbo knelt in front of him, gently washing Grian's knuckles with soap, water, and disinfectant. He heard Grian gasp when the disinfectant touched his hands, despite Mumbo’s gentle, careful touch.

"Sorry," Mumbo apologised, trying to ignore the nausea turning in the pit of his stomach as the cotton pad began to turn red.

Grian shrugged. "It's fine,” he mumbled, but his shaking voice betrayed him.

Grian's hands were delicate, and considering how soft they were he obviously tried to take care of them, even if his nails were bitten down and the pink polish was chipped. Somehow, it made Mumbo feel worse about the bruises. He knew it wasn't his fault, but he still wished he could make up for it somehow, make it better.

The electric buzz from the touch he felt made him feel sick, guilty. It was the wrong time to be thinking about that. Grian was hurt and yet his feelings distracted him.

"I hate people," Grian said, not louder than a whisper. He watched as Mumbo gently wrapped the bloodied knuckles with white bandages, he watched as scatters of blood began to soak through.

His face twisted into a pained smile.

"I absolutely hate people,” his voice broke, tears slowly forming in his eyes. “They're so mean, so cruel. And for what?” He sniffed wetly. “What's the point?”

Each word shook like an earthquake, mountains of unspoken emotion and build-up pain seeping through each one. His hands shook with them.

"I don't know,” Mumbo replied, holding Grian's hands in his as gently as he could, cradling them like the most precious of treasures. “I really don't."

"Why do they feel the need to destroy someone else's happiness?" Grian asked, as the tears began to fall.

Mumbo didn’t know what to say. He stayed silent as he wiped away Grian's tears.

~

Mumbo decided to sleep at Grian's place that night.

Going home felt rude, and Grian seemed to need the support. He had stared at his hands for a long time after Mumbo finished bandaging them, as if he was trying to will them into healing. Mumbo had managed to put everything away in the medicine cabinet by the time that he finally moved again, blinking down at his hands rapidly like he was trying to come back to himself. He gave up after that, sighing as he stood up from the cold bathroom corner and walked into his room to change out of his clothes.

When he had stepped back out, dressed in sweatpants and a red hoodie, he quietly asked if Mumbo could help him wash off the makeup. He held up his hands, as if to tell Mumbo why he couldn't do it himself. Of course Mumbo didn’t hesitate, and carefully helped Grian wash off the makeup.

Mumbo offered to cook food too, an offer which was met with a bittersweet smile and a quiet, "I'd like that."

The smile, somehow, made everything feel a little bit better, a little bit more comfortable, and after they had eaten, Mumbo noted that Grian's eyes had regained some of their shine.

They got ready for bed, and Mumbo set himself up on Grian’s couch with a pile of blankets. It wasn’t the most comfortable, but Mumbo still felt that it was better than going home. He wanted to be there for Grian. Leaving him alone felt like a bad idea.

Apparently, Grian shared much of the same sentiment, because it didn't take long for him to quietly emerge from his bedroom. He walked over to the couch and knelt down in front of it, shaking Mumbo slightly, just enough to see if he was awake.

Mumbo tiredly opened his eyes. "Grian?" He murmured, confused.

"Can I sleep with you on the couch? Just for the night?" Grian anxiously whispered, fidgeting with his hands. The bandages stopped a lot of his movements, creasing uncomfortably and pulling at his raw skin.

Mumbo sat up, one of the blankets falling to the floor as he moved. "You sure? You don't want to sleep in a proper bed instead?" He scratched the back of his neck, feeling far too tired for the conversation.

"I'm sure," Grian said quickly, maybe a bit too quickly, because then he added. "It feels too big, too empty. Uh- and besides, I've slept on couches before."

Mumbo didn't question why they didn't both just sleep in Grian's room, even though the couch could barely fit them both. He didn't question the explanation Grian had given.

Maybe he should've. It might've been a good idea.

Maybe it would've spared him a lot of pain later. Maybe he might’ve realised a few things.

Instead of telling Grian no, something he never seemed able to do, no matter how much he wanted to, he opened his arms and let Grian curl up beside him.

Maybe he should try to be better with boundaries. He couldn’t keep doing this; at one point or another he was bound to break. He should learn to say no, to ask questions, to stick up for himself.

It probably would have been better, but seeing Grian smile like he did in that moment, something that felt far too rare, always managed to break down his walls.

So instead, he shoved down the feelings bubbling in his chest, and he fell asleep like that, with his arms wrapped tightly around Grian.

[crowbawt]

Duviri speculation: Who is Dominus Thrax? Short answer: I don’t know

Long answer: I don’t know but I want to talk about it

The devs repeatedly have hinted that Thrax is “someone we know.” There’s one answer to this that makes the most sense, and it is also my least favorite: The Man in the Wall. Dominus is childlike, petty, and seems to possess nigh-omnipotence in Duviri, bringing the Drifter back to life and molding time and space on a whim. There’s a few times we are mistaken for Thrax in the demo by Duviri npcs, he wears a mask which we know our Drifter will at some point wear in order to masquerade as him, and that we already have as a cosmetic item. This goes well with Wally being our doppelganger, and Thrax seems jealous of what we have which could explain Wally wanting to “replace” us. There’s also his line at the very ending about wanting to “just go there myself” in regards to escaping Duviri, and Wally’s motivation seems to be breaking into and invading our reality. Introducing the backstory of a major villain that was mysterious up until a point is a fairly common storytelling tool. It really seems obvious. This is why I’m hoping it’s not true, it’s... too obvious.

Cosmic villains like the Man in the Wall are very hard to pull off well and learning the truth about them can be ultimately disappointing in comparison to the built up idea of them in your head. In my opinion, Warframe has handled this better than most stories do. Wally has been built up as a force truly beyond our comprehension, as something as unknowable as the mysteries of the universe itself. He presents as manifestation of quantum strangeness, the vastness of space, the unknown and the Void. The story has been very careful about revealing anything about him, to the point that his existence in the story was not really acknowledged in official materials until very recently.

Having Wally turn out to have once been a specific individual that later “ascended” is probably the least interesting way I could see them going with him, just because it’s been done before so many times. It is, in my opinion, the easy way out as far as storytelling goes. You may disagree with my opinion, and that’s very fair. I’m aware it’s not necessarily a popular one, and I won’t pretend to know more about storytelling than the writers of Warframe do. This is just my hopes for the character, not what is “correct,” and the writing in Warframe is good enough they could likely make it interesting in its own way.

But I am hopeful that the answer is not the most obvious one, mostly for personal preference more so than any actual evidence. So, I’d like to consider some other options: who else could Thrax be? The next most obvious answer is that he is another version of our Tenno, like how the Drifter is an alternate outcome of ourselves. While I don’t dislike this idea in the same way I do him being Wally, I don’t think it’s that likely. My reasoning for this is because of how important the concept of “duality” has been in Warframe’s themes. Sun vs moon. Mind vs body. Rage vs joy. Reality, and the Void. Tenno, and the Drifter. Shaking Wally’s hand vs refusing to. For this reason I don’t believe we are going to get a bunch of alternate selves running about like some kind of Marvel movie. There’s also a bit of graffiti in the Zariman that looks like two of the ship overlapping each other, presumably the version that is in our reality and then again in Duviri. I think we are only going to be dealing with the two of ourselves, Tenno and Drifter, as defined by the decision to accept Wally’s “help” or not. Watch me be proven wrong lol  Now, it IS possible that Thrax is a version of us, but not one that is a distinct “third” timeline. Maybe he’s our Tenno via some weird paradox time shit, something like a bad end or a time within the void that we forgot. This does run into the issue of gendering our Tenno, but I could see the excuse of “King” being used in a gender neutral manner, and Thrax’s voice is filtered and somewhat ambiguous. Who knows.  Other options... Dominus has what seems to be an elongated prosthetic arm that calls to mind the Orokin, so he could be an alternative of one that we know. The most obvious candidates for this are Ballas and Albrecht Entrati: remember that the paintings of those two that you can purchase as decorations on the Zariman have the curious description of being called portrait of “a” Ballas, or “a” Albrecht.  After the New War, I’d prefer for Ballas’ role as the major antagonist to be over and to give a different villain time to shine. Both Thrax and Ballas are egotistical and have delusions of grandeur, but those are very common villainous traits and could be explained just by Thrax seeming “young” and childish. He seems more naïve than anything, which I would not say is a trait of Ballas, who is usually more manipulative than he is direct. Of those two choices, Albrecht is the better one I feel. He is, as far as we know, the first person to ever encounter Wally. His line about wondering if he truly escaped the Void, or if it was “the Other,” could be a parallel to our Tenno and the Drifter. Perhaps there is a version of Albrecht who, instead of fleeing, accepted Wally’s handshake when he reached out to him. Maybe Dominus Thrax is the Tenno to Albrecht Entrati’s Drifter, a “Void Demon” with terrifying control over it in the same way we are able to wield its energies to our will. Wally calls Albrecht “Little Bengel,” a nickname his mother gave him as a child. Supposedly “bengel” is German slang for rascal or scamp, and Albrecht is a very German name. Albrecht being a rascal as a child could explain Thrax’s personality. 

Why would Thrax be young if Albrecht met Wally as an adult, and why wouldn’t this version of him remember the outside world? I have no idea, but those seem like things you could find an excuse for with Void paradox bullshit. This is long as hell so I’m stopping now, but tl;dr: The Man in the Wall is the answer with the most evidence while also being the option I most actively dislike and hope isn’t true, my favorite explanation is that he’s some kind of Tenno-esque alternate of Albrecht Entrati resulting from his original interaction with the Void.

[milliedazzledust]

I'll Come Back for You (Bucky Barnes imagine)

REQUEST: ANON - something where he is in winter soldier mode and protecting the scientist (y/n) where she is the only one who can sort of calm him down after a mission

ANON - winter soldier!bucky being protective over his scientist who’s forced to be take care of his health and she’s being kept there against his will too

ANON - Bucky Barnes request about how both reader and Bucky are each other support systems? It could be like a headcanon, how would the reader comfort him while how he comforts her so forth and so on

WORDS: 3506

A/N: So I don't know if I was inspired or if I just wrote too much, but I'm not sure this story's good. Anyway, feedback is really appreciated and I hope you'll like it :) (also don't forget to tell me if you want to be on my taglist ^^)

“What happened this time ?”

Her voice was only a whisper in the quiet room. The broken man silently sat on the examination table while she stuck a needle in his functioning arm. He didn’t speak, didn’t even flinch. This masquerade had started the moment she had set foot inside Hydra secret base. They had brought her against her will to take care of their most valuable soldier. It was always the same dance, rehearsed a million times since she had met him. After each mission, each murder, he’d come to her. She’d fix his physical wounds, take care of his arm and let him go.

More than often, she found herself feeling sorry for him. She knew what Hydra was doing to him, she’d heard the screams echoing in the distance. It would keep ringing in her ears for hours. Sometimes, the simple thought of picturing what he was going through was enough to bring her to tears. No one deserved to suffer this way.

The Winter Soldier was a cruel man, an assassin. She had seen him in action, had even been attacked the first time they were introduced. But despite being the necessary tool to take care of their valuable killer, she liked him. This wasn’t a place anyone could handle, not even him. And while she was aware of the danger Hydra represented, he was a different story. The man he once was had been trapped in a small corner of his mind, disconnected. His hands were his own, but his actions were dictated by an army that had invaded his head long ago. He was a machine turned on and off at will by the power of ten simple words.

“I was stabbed” Was his only answer. He didn’t give any detail, simply raised his shirt so she could inspect the injury.

“Do you feel any pain ?”

He blankly stared at an invisible point on the wall, avoiding looking at her. He was aware anyone could be listening.

“Soldier ?” She called him, stopping her movement and waiting for his response.

“I don’t feel anything” His voice was emotionless and a chill ran down her spine when he spoke. He was detached, impassive, a statue unaware he was capable of sentiment.

She cleared her throat, trying to stay focused on her task. She cleaned the wound, took his vitals, wrote down the conclusion of her examination and prepared what she needed to sew him up.

When she was about to administer the anesthetic, he suddenly grabbed her wrist. She caught her breath, frightened, but made no movement. For the first time that day, he turned his head to look at her. Whatever she saw in his eyes was enough to ease the tension in her shoulders and she relaxed.

“It’s okay” She whispered, a kind smile on her face. “This is propofol”

She knew he would recognize the name. She had spent countless hours explaining everything she was doing to him in detail so he wouldn’t be uncomfortable or scared. He was a super soldier that required extreme measures of treatment.

“No drugs,” He told her.

“You might regret that decision once I start to put the stitches in”

“I need to stay conscious,” He explicated, almost begging her. “Please”

She didn’t argue, only glanced at a camera behind her recording their interaction.

“Alright” She conceded. “I’ll switch to saline”

He nodded, grateful she wasn’t pushing. She turned her back carefully so her table was no longer in the camera’s field of view and he watched her emptying the needle and filling it with a harmless mixture of water and sodium chloride. Nothing that would put him to sleep.

“Have you ever been to Greece ?” She asked him out of the blue. He stared at her curiously. “I’ve always dreamed of visiting. It has the longest coastline in Europe, with so many islands between the blue Aegean Sea to the east, the Mediterranean Sea to the south, and the Ionian Sea to the west. Can you imagine how beautiful it must be ?”

She kept talking for a while about the country, the books she had read and the films she had seen about it. His eyes stayed on her the whole time, his head tilted to the side, wondering why she was telling him all this. Not that he minded, he loved listening to her. She had the power to calm him down. He was constantly on high alert, ready to fight whomever he was told to kill, prepared to endure whatever torture they had prepared, but this room and the woman inside were his only small moments of peace. Her voice was the music he desperately needed to sooth his soul.

“Why are you telling me this ?” He wondered out loud.

She smirked. “To take your mind somewhere else than here. Seems like it worked”

He glanced at his stomach and realized the stitches were already there. Too engrossed in her story, he hadn’t noticed or felt anything.

“How…”

“Funny how magical words can turn out to be, isn’t it ?”

She could swear she saw the flicker of an emotion on his face looking back between his wound and the woman, but just as quickly as it came, it was gone.

“Thank you, doc”

She hesitated a moment before gently taking his hand on her own.

“Be careful” She muttered. “There’s only so much I can fix”

“I will” He promised. “Are they … are they treating you right ?”

She shrugged. “If threatening to kill me is what you consider right, then I guess I’m a real princess in a castle”

He ran a jerky hand through his hair and seemed to be looking for the right words to say but never spoke.

“Can I ask …” She began, curiosity getting the best out of her. “What is your real name ?”

When his gaze fell on her, all she saw was pure panic. Her question, as simple as it may have been, had surprised him. He didn’t remember, didn’t even question anyone, because it hadn’t mattered. He didn’t need to be more than a ghost to be able to kill.

“I’m sorry” She apologized. “I shouldn’t have asked. I didn’t mean to…”

“I don’t know” He admitted.

She gulped and looked away. His eyes held too much confusion and despair. Coming face to face with the enormity that was this man’s fate was sometimes undeniably heartbreaking.

“Can I call you Winter, then ?” She suggested.

He seemed to ponder for a while before offering her a small smile. “Yes, yes I’d like that”

It hurt to see a glimpse of happiness on his face for something as simple as a name and the woman didn’t realize that what she had just given him was the shred of an identity. A tiny piece he would hold onto. He was living inside a nightmare he had no idea he was trapped into, and if she dared to help, she would pay it with her life. So all she had the power to do was give him a name. Make him feel alive again.

The next time she saw him was only a couple of days after, carried by two agents, head hanging low and barely conscious. His clothes were stained in blood and his metal arm seemed dislocated.

“Patch him up” One of the men coldly ordered. They dropped the injured soldier on the ground like he was nothing more than an object, not even human.

She rushed to his side, checking his pupils first with a flashlight to rule out any intracranial damage to his brain. She did the same on his chest with a stethoscope, searching for any potential life threatening injury. When she moved to his shoulder to inspect the metal bones, he regained consciousness. Maybe it was the sight of yet another scientist above him or the touch of her fingers on his skin, but the man was quick to react and got on his feet in no time. His human hand wrapped around her neck tightly and he pushed her body with force against a wall, choking her. She tried to speak, but the action had been so sudden and violent that she was unable to move a muscle. He was in a trance, eyes filled with hatred that she knew was not directed toward her. Whatever he was picturing in his mind had awakened the assassin. She was the threat and he was in a game of survival.

She whispered his name several times but it was only after a minute, when she was on the verge of passing out, that he seemed to realize what he was doing. He stared at her with wide open eyes and released her from his grip. Her body fell on the floor before she started coughing, struggling to catch her breath.

“I’m…” He tried to speak, looking down at his hands in horror.

“Water” She managed to whisper.

He brought the woman a bottle and tried to help her on her feet. When he reached for her, she involuntarily flinched. A pure reflex. She didn’t miss the sadness on his face as he recoiled from her.

“I didn’t mean…”

“I know. It’s alright”

“I could’ve killed you” He said it more to himself than to her.

“But you didn’t” She laid a hand on her chest, taking a deep breath to try and calm her heart rate. “What happened ?”

“You touched me,” He explained.

“I touch you all the time” When he smirked, she realized the double meaning behind what she had just said. “Hm … why would it be any different today ?” She immediately changed the subject.

“Usually, when I’m unconscious I can … sense them around me. Working on me. And I can’t move but I still feel the pain”

Once again she was at a loss of words against the heaviness that was the burden of his life.

“Are you sure you’re alright ?” He repeated almost in a childish voice.

“I’ll get over it, don’t worry” She tried to reassure him. It didn’t seem to work. He took a temptative step, making sure she wasn’t uncomfortable. He moved his hand toward her neck, deliberately going as slow as he could. His eyes stayed on hers, watching out for any sign of fear. “What are you doing ?” She said in a breath, a different kind of shiver rolling down her spine.

“I need to make sure I didn’t hurt you” The sincerity and concern she heard in his voice were unsettling. She stared back in disbelief, but didn’t move. This was the closest they had ever been and it almost felt unreal for both of them. Too good to be true, especially in a place of nightmare like this.

He tilted her head to the back, still looking at her, and softly brushed his thumb over her skin. A bruise was already starting to appear. She saw the change in his eyes, the regret and sadness when he lowered his gaze. He kept inspecting her from all angles possible, making her chuckle in the process.

“Are you done, doctor ?” She joked.

He tried not to smile but miserably failed. “Almost. Haven’t found a diagnosis yet”

This time she laughed.

“C’mon, I’m not the real patient here. I need to take a look at you” She glanced at his metal arm, still dislocated. He was avoiding using it and she had noticed.

He sighed but didn’t remove his hand from her neck. Instead, his thumb slowly reached her cheek and he gently stroked her skin.

“I wish I could get you out of here” He whispered. “You don’t deserve any of this”

“Neither do you”

He clenched his jaw and plastered a tight smile, refusing to acknowledge what she had just said. He lowered his arm and sat on the examination table without saying anything.

“I’m gonna … hm … I’m gonna need to cut your shirt open” She gulped, trying to keep her cheeks from getting any warmer.

The man smirked and grabbed a pair of scissors nearby that he handed to her. She took it but didn’t dare to look at him, too uncomfortable by the situation. As she cut his shirt higher and higher, her hands started to shake. He could see her shifting her weight from side to side and desperately avoiding any eye contact. She was embarrassed and he was enjoying every second of it.

When finally she had taken it carefully off his body, she huffed in frustration. There was no denying that he had beyond toned muscle structure, verged into defined and well built curves.

“Is it… is it alright if I touch you ?” She allowed herself to take a glance at him, and rolled her eyes when she saw the smirk on his face.

“More than alright, doc” He teased her.

The moment her hands came in contact with his skin, he involuntarily flexed his muscles. She took a sharp breath, trying not to lose focus when she cleaned his wounds. She looked up at him to make sure he wasn’t in any pain, only to realize he was already staring. What should have been a quick glance turned into something more, a moment that lasted a little too long. When he leaned in toward her, she suddenly seemed to notice the lack of space between them. She cleared her throat and took a step back.

“Quit flirting, Winter” She reprimanded him with a playful grin.

He laughed. It was the first time she heard that sound and she couldn’t help the giggle that escaped her mouth. He looked so carefree and alive, so human. She was finally meeting the man behind the assassin, and he troubled her even more than the silent killer.

“I kinda like to see you flustered, doc”

She ran a hand through her hair, trying to hide her obvious nervousness.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about” She pursed her lips to keep from smiling.

“Sure you don’t” He sniggered.

She rolled her eyes. “I’m gonna need to put that shoulder into place”

Instead of talking, he grabbed her hips and considerably shortened the distance she had put between them. Her eyes widened from both the sudden gesture and the feeling of his fingers on her body.

“Go right ahead, doc”

She leaned in toward him to have a better access to the injury, ignoring the unexpected shudder. She was practically over him, a hand on his shoulder, the other on his broad back. If he felt any pain when she pushed the bones back into place, he didn’t show.

“All good ?” He muttered, heavily breathing. She was about to ask if he was okay but the words stayed stuck when she realized how close their faces were. He wasn’t hurt, no, he was perturbed by her presence. He could smell her perfume and see the hair raising on her neck. Whatever he was feeling, she felt it too.

“Do I make you nervous, soldier ?” She said, a smile building on her full lips.

“You have no idea, doctor”

She turned to face him. They locked eyes and, for a moment, none of them moved. The atmosphere instantly changed when he bit his lips. He bent closer and closer, and this time she didn’t push back. When finally he kissed her, she froze in place. He was about to draw back when she grabbed his neck, deepening the kiss. A sensation she couldn’t comprehend took over her whole body. He didn’t rush, took his sweet time lingering his lips over hers. She could swore her knees would have given out if he wasn’t holding her in place. Her chest was fluttering and she lost all sense of time. He pulled back from the lack of oxygen, but not before caressing her mouth one last time.

“Too much?” He inquired quietly.

She shook her head, laughing. “No. Just enough”

“I’ve been dreaming of doing that for a while” He admitted.

“Quite the change of attitude. I could’ve sworn you wanted me dead only ten minutes ago” She joked.

He pouted, not particularly happy she was reminding him of his previous outburst.

“You’re all set up, Winter” She announced after one last look over his chest. “No major damage”

“Have you checked my heart ?” He joked with a smirk. “I think it’s beating a little fast”

She coughed to try and hide her laugh.

“I’m afraid that’s not fixable” She started to write her report, ignoring his lingering gaze on her. Her brain was still fuzzy from the kiss they shared. “Unless I stay away, which would probably ease your … discomfort”

“Who said anything about discomfort ? That’s a kind of pain I’d rather enjoy”

She raised an eyebrow, not missing the way her own heart palpitated.

“Don’t play with fire, soldier”

He smirked. “Between us, I’m trying to delay the moment I’ll have to go through that door again”

This time she lost all joy and raised her head from what she was writing on her report to look at him.

“You’re strong enough to leave this place, you know”

“Leave where ?” He asked.

“Somewhere you’ll find who you really are”

“Does that somewhere include you ? ‘Cause you should know I won’t go without you”

She walked up to him and took his hands.

“Save yourself while you still can, Winter” She sadly replied.

“What about you ?”

“I’m just … collateral damage” She exhaled.

He gently pressed his forehead to hers.

“I promise I’ll come back for you after that last mission”

“I’ll hold you onto that”

He planted a soft kiss on her lips, making her forget once again where they were and what their reality was.

“I’ll take you to Greece” He whispered. “Just the two of us. Wouldn’t that be great ?”

“It’s a date” She grinned, making him laugh.

“You’ve got yourself a deal. We’ll get out of here” He swore. “And I’ll take you dancing under the stars of Mykonos”

He didn’t know then that he would never have the occasion to keep that promise. They would have more moments, stolen from the chaos of this place, but nothing more. Weeks later, he would hear rumors about treason and compromising positions. He would understand too late they meant her. She was his weak point, and the Winter Soldier couldn’t have any weaknesses. She was disposable, he was an assassin with superpowers. All the recordings they had proved he no longer could be operational so long as she was still breathing.

“Buck, you alright ?” A voice suddenly spoke in the agonizing silence.

He turned around to his friend, brushing the tears he didn’t realize had started to fall. Standing in the empty room, he couldn’t move away from the dried patch of blood on the floor.

“Yeah, I just need a minute” He shook his head, trying to make the painful memories disappear.

The man behind him began to inspect the place, searching through scattered papers around a desk.

“Dr. Y/N Y/L/N” He read.

Bucky closed his eyes, clenching his jaw. The simple sound of her name was enough to widen the open wound inside his chest. He sat on the examination table one last time, without her. Forgetting he wasn’t alone, he let himself wander into his most precious memories. He remembered the taste of her lips, the smell of her perfume and the touch of her skin. Every detail engraved in his head forever.

“Did you know her ?” The person asked.

“Yeah”

The man stopped what he was doing and observed the former assassin for a solid minute. He looked heartbroken.

“Bad memories ?” He inquired.

“Not in this room” Bucky sadly smiled.

“What happened ?”

“I don’t want to talk about it, Steve”

The Captain hesitated for a moment but didn’t push. He was aware his friend was still healing and whatever the place was, it was part of his pain.

“Is she dead ?” He only questioned.

He gulped and tilted his head backward to keep the tears at bay. “They took her away from me” His voice cracked when he spoke. He was not able to stop the violent sob that escaped his mouth. He wanted to say so much more but the lump in his throat was far too heavy.

“I was too late,” He whispered. “I promised I’d come back for her but I was … too …”

His shoulders started to shake as tears ran down his bloodshot eyes. Steve rapidly closed the distance between them and hugged his friend, letting him express his sadness. They stayed there until he was calm enough to take a deep breath.

“You ready ?” The Captain inquired.

The broken soldier silently nodded.

“Where to now ?” Steve asked him. “You’re free to go anywhere you'd like”

“Greece. I have a date in Greece”

Taglist below the cut

@partypoisonsblog - @tylard-blog1

[scaryrabbit]

Bitten

Summary: The zombies invade Las Vegas, but you get the feeling there is one that is unlike the rest, and he is looking for you.

Pairing: Zombie King Zeus x Female Reader

Word Count approx. 1.3k

Warnings: Ummm Interspecies love? Implied smut, mentions of body fluids, death, zombies

Authors Note: While I can’t post any of my Henry stuff 😭 I thought I’d try something different. This idea has been in my head since I watched “Army of the Dead” and laid eyes on the magnificence that is Zeus.

I’ve used my usual tag list, but I know some of you won’t be interested in this, I’m not offended if you ignore the tag!

Also, I can’t respond to replies but I seem to be ok with responding to reblogs, asks and messages on this blog. Who knows what’s going on! I’m still waiting on Tumblr to get back to me.

I don’t know what else to say about it, it’s just a little ditty, an experiment or writing challenge, but I hope some of you enjoy it. It is weird, but hey, weird is good and who hasn’t fallen for a monster at least once in their lives. ❤️

Masterlist

Bitten

Again, you hear the screech echoing through the streets, it’s closer this time. Every time you hear it, it seems like it’s getting closer. You still don’t know how you could possibly hear it, the strip was so loud. It had always been a loud place, drunken fights, screaming hen’s parties, sirens, loud cars, but since the creatures came, it was a continuous battle zone. Rapid gunfire rang out in bursts as you kept moving, trying to find somewhere safe. Bullets were becoming scarce, no one went full auto anymore.

You hid behind a car with your friends as a small hoard went past and the gun shots got louder. But that roaring call got louder too. The pitch was different to most of the cries of the creatures. You think it must be the leader, the one people are calling the King, the one the rumours say was the first. He was one of those that seemed to sound different, act different, seemed smart even, intelligent and capable of communication. You can’t be sure though, no one is sure of anything anymore, except that one bite will turn you into a mindless flesh eater, a drone, following the herd to your next victim.

Hearing the cry again, you’re convinced it’s closer. “We need to get off the street,” you say. “He’s coming.” You don’t need to explain who he is, they know. You saw him once, the King, on the first day the creatures arrived. You aren’t sure if you made it up, but in the few days since then you become convinced he looked you in the eyes, just as you made your way into the fire escape. You had frozen, open door in your hand, you had almost been bitten, but you swear the King called the creature off you. You may have stood there for an age, lost in dead, jaundiced his eyes, if the hands of your friends hadn’t pulled you into the stairwell and blocked the door. Since then, you can’t shake the feeling he was stalking you, hunting you.

Looking around, you see the hotel Olympus. “In there,” you tell your friends and you make a run for it, leaping over half eaten bodies that would have made you vomit 48 hours ago, now you only saw them as obstacles to avoid, hazards, even the smell doesn’t fill your mouth with bile anymore.

The yowling call thundered in your ears, as you reached the hotel. Don’t turn around you tell yourself, but then the cry comes again, lower, mournful, almost seductive and you can’t stop yourself. It’s him, the King standing tall, proud, on the roof of the car you were hiding behind. He steps off the car, light on his feet and he hits the road, his near bird like staccato howls are soft as he approaches you, almost cooing, wooing, soothing.

You’re frozen again, under his enchantment, you barely register the screaming urges of your friends. You take a step towards him, shaking but drawn inexplicably to him. Something about his vocalisations grips your heart, calls to something deep within you, some baser instinct you didn’t know you had. His approach is cautious now, like he’s the one approaching a skittish beast who would flee at the first sign of danger.

Rough hands grab you around your waist and you are dragged away. You raise your arms, outstretched, yells of indignation come from you as you fight your saviour. “No,” you scream, “Put me down!”

“What the hell is wrong with you?” He grunts into your ear as you enter the hotel. “Do you want to be one of them?” Yes, yes you do. You cry, tears streaming down your cheeks, your confusion frustrates you, the overwhelming stress of the last few days can no longer be contained. Misunderstanding your tears, your friend holds you, stroking your hair, “Shhh, you’re going to be ok. You’re…” he coughs, splutters, blood oozes from his mouth his throat rattles, trying to breathe as fluid fills his lungs. You feel him slide out of your arms, collapsing on the garish carpet of the hotel.

He replaces your friend. The King. His arms around yours, pinning them down and there’s no escape as he runs with you, deeper into the building, away from the noise of the streets, the hoards of mindless undead and from your dying friend.

You hear his breath, hard and even as he runs with you. His vice like limbs grip you tight, yet do not hurt, he holds you as a mother holds a child, firm but gentle, close to his chest, his pale sickly looking skin surprising warm against your cheek. You look at him, his dark hair unkept hanging in thin locks frame his face, his teeth, not quite human, not quite fangs are revealed in his bloody open lips. He looks at you and his yellow, animalistic eyes are soft as he slows his run to a walk, then finally a halt.

Putting you down, he immediately holds you again as you are unsteady on your feet, wavering under fatigue and shock. He leans you against the hallway wall, his body presses against you, holding you up. He nuzzles you, his nose presses into your skin, smelling you, caressing you with his nose, his murmuring growls and tittering voice reach your ears. You think he’s trying to calm you.

Then you feel him in a way so familiar, it repulses you. Angry, you want to fight, scream at him, accuse him. Why is even this creature like other men, carnal and lusty? You raise your lip in a snarl. “Get the fuck off me,” you growl at him, disgusted and disappointed.

As if he understands he pulls back, his head tilted as he seems confused by your change in demeanour. He sniffs the air, leans in to you again, his nose rubbing yours, you get the feeling he is trying to tell you something. He kneels before you, rests his head near the apex of your thighs, his face presses between your legs and you hear his muffled chatter as his nose nudges your sex.

Your reaction is instant, embarrassingly so, and you feel the wetness of your arousal leak from within you. A physical need rises in you as you try to close your legs, but the creature, wouldn’t be moved, his noisy chirrups vibrate through you and you shiver with pleasure.

Whimpering at his touch, you resign yourself, knowing you can’t fight him, knowing you don’t want to. Your limbs relax and you hear his triumphant growl rumble in his chest and echo through the hall. Slowly he stands, his head and face caressing you as he moves up your body, mapping you by touch and scent.

With a tenderness you didn’t think the creature was capable of, his face is in your neck again, his breath warm on your skin and gooseflesh breaks out over your arms. You feel him again, his desire pressing into your hip. This time it doesn’t repel you, instead you lean into it with wonder, anticipation, urgency. You want it, want the creature, want to be with him.

Not understanding why, you tilt you head back, moaning, a mumbled plea falling from your lips, “Please.” Your surrender seemed to be what he was waiting for and you feel his wet tongue on your skin. With a throaty caw and a fettered bite, his teeth penetrate your flesh. You thought it would hurt, that you would cry with pain, but it isn’t, you don’t. You mewl, against him, relief floods you, somehow you know that this is what you always needed, you needed him. As you feel your body change, or die, you don’t know or care which it is, your last human thought was…

Tag List (Ignore if you aren’t interested in this)

@henryobsessed @omgkatinka @legendarywizarddetective @posiemax @nostalgicb-txh @moonlacebeam @anitababi @agniavateira @blakerogue @shadesofarrogance @mansaaay @stxlemate @wheretheriversrunintothesea @amberangel112 @madbaddic7ed @eldarwen333 @wolvesandhoundshowltogether @summersong69 @littlefreya @littlebirdofrivia @luclittlepond @myloveforhenrycavill @mary-ann84 @tellingyouastory @beck07990 @zealoushound

[luimagines]

This is my third time sending this ask because tumblr keeps saying it didn't go through- so if you've seen this already just ignore it but could you do a short headcanon list on how they would react if you held their hand- could be platonic or romantic whichever is easier to write

Masterlist

Sorry that Tumblr kept eating your asks. But this was first time I saw it so I'm glad you didn't give up.

Handholding headcanons!

I think I'll do a bit of both platonic and romantic just because I can.

Content under the cut!

Time

Platonic

It you were to grab his hand out of the blue, he’d be startled at first and almost pull his hand back on instinct.

He sees you and then he calms down even if he’s more confused than before.

He doesn’t know what the next course of action is and he doesn’t want to cause a scene or hurt your feelings by asking you to let him go. 

He will ask you to let go eventually though

So it’s best to make it short and sweet at first and probably get to point of catching his attention since you certainly have it now.

But if you happen to make a habit of just taking his hand out of the blue then he lets you hold on to him for as long as you need.

He grows resigned to it and just lets you get it out of your system until you move on to the next team member.

He does feel a little better in the idea that you trust him by the end of the day though.

Even if he’s not sure why you like hold his hand in particular, he doesn’t want to put any strain on your relationship especially since he’s let it go on for as long as he has.

Besides, the adventure won’t last forever, he tells himself, it’s not doing any harm either.

He takes on an father figure/ older brother approach when you hold his hand by now and just uses it to keep you in line with the boys or out of their natural crosshairs of chaos.

Romantic

If you were to hold his hand out of the blue, he wouldn’t hesitate to hold yours back, even giving a little squeeze to reassure himself of your presence.

He likes to hold your hand and walk by your side as quiet way to show you his affection both in private and in public.

He’s a man of little words but he never wants you to doubt his devotion to you.

He doesn’t outwardly react when you grab him.

But his heart never fails to swell in general contentment when you show, even in the little things that you want to be by his side.

After a few minutes of initial contact, he’d grin a little to himself and begin to swing your hands back and forth in time with your steps.

If the boys try to say anything then he’s quick to silence them with his a simple glance over his shoulder at them.

Not that he had to be angry or anything but the boys don’t want to potentially push him that far with their teasing...

The whole... poke the bear and run the hills when it moves sort of thing.... It’s a giant game of chicken that they lose every time.

He’d hold your hand forever if you’d let him, even if he knows he can’t feasibly do so and keep his image of stoic leader of the Heroes of Courage at the same time.

It helps ground him.

Wind

Platonic

If you were to grab his hand out of the blue, he’d hold your back no problem.

It’s something his sister does a lot back home so it’s nice for him to have little reminder even if your hands are nothing like hers.

He’d take it in stride and swing them back and forth with no hesitation at all.

As long as it’s clear to him that you’re holding him out of want to be friendly, he takes turns with you throughout the journey for who grabs whos hand first.

If he at all gets the impression however, that it’s because the youngest and it’s to keep him close, he would yank his hands away from yours and stomp away from you with a few harsh words on his tongue about how he doesn’t need to be babied.

It depends on your status and previous encounters with him for this and how he thinks you view him.

Even if the negative encounter happens and he see later on that it wasn’t to hold him back, he’d grab your hand instead.

A silent memo that he’s ok with it and he’s sorry for pushing you away the first time.

He’s more inclined to grab onto a persons arm if he’s familiar with them instead of grabbing their hand but since you’ve grabbed onto his hand first, he’s willing to meet you where you stand for quiet affection.

But he likes the idea of holding hands as he travels, mostly because it reminds him that’s not alone on this adventure.

And if it helps him think that he’s got nothing to prove to the others when he allows himself a small comfort, that’s for him to know.

Romantic

If you were to grab his hand out of the blue, he’d instantly start blushing.

Full on- tomato red, all the way to the tips of his ears and down to his neck.

He gets shy and quiet and laces his finger with yours but he has a trouble making eye contact.

Part of him wants to push you away because he immediately gets teased by the other boys but depending on your reaction- he either sticks his tongue out and squeezes your hand tighter or just starts swearing like the sailor he is for embarrassing you.

Because so help him, if they make you feel uncomfortable enough to let go of him first, then he’s going to prank all of them until they leave you alone.

He’s very quick to push aside his own discomfort at their words and instead fight for your honor.

Because it was clearly something you wanted to do but the others would have shot you down and made you feel self conscious and doubtful

And that won’t stand.

He thinks it’s one of the sweet things anyone would want from him.

A lot of Wind is loud and expressive and eye catching, so something small and quiet and mostly hidden catches him off guard.

It send his heart into a spiral and even when you’re not holding onto him, he can sometimes still feel your phantom touch.

He tries to compare the emotions of the thrill of holding his sword versus the thrill of holding your hand.

And... he begins to think that what he once thought was irreplaceable, can very quickly be put on the back burner if you’re willing to stay by his side.

Twilight

Platonic

If you were to grab his hand out of the blue, he’d be startled at first and probably ask you out loud what you thought you were doing, but he’d be more amused about it- than say- Time or Legend.

He’d raise his eyebrow and let you hold onto him for a moment without grabbing you back as you explain yourself.

If you say you just felt like it then he’d just let you hold onto him without putting up much of a fight

All the kids from his village would more or less hang off of him so he’s pretty used to it. (Wind does it too so he’s accepted his fate)

If he gets the impression that you’re afraid or uncomfortable and that’s why you’ve reach out to him- then he’ll hold your hand back.

He’s has a strong grip and it’s warm and comforting with seasoned, robust calluses from years of farm work.

He’s not the kind of person to let go first in this situation and while gladly hold your hand to ground you and make sure you feel better about the situation no matter what is happening.

It’s his older brother instinct.

He won’t exactly be the most comfortable with it (he’d probably feel better if you let him wrap his arm around your shoulders instead) but he’d do it.

Mostly because he doesn’t like the reminiscent feeling of something latched onto his hand and/or wrist.

Romantic

If you were to grab his hand out of the blue, this boy would get the giddiest and most boyish smile just smack dab on the middle of his face.

He doesn’t hesitate to hold your hand back even if that little phantom feeling returns.

The fact that you’re so quick to lace your fingers together helps change the way the little phantom feeling appears.

It changes from cold, unforgiving steel to warm gentle and caring fingers.

He tries to memorize how your hand feels in his whenever he has to chance.

He’d periodically squeeze your hand as you walk together or even if you’re just chilling and holding each other.

He likes to remind himself that you’re there and that you’re real.

He’s not the kind to talk about his partner excessively in public or be fond of PDA but he’ll hold your hand- keep you close- let the world know that you’re taken- and with him.

Admittedly, it’s a little possessive but if he were to be confronted about it (not that he gives off that vibe, it’s just the thoughts in his head) he’d blame the wolfish need to protect and claim the mate.

This poor boy is too self conscious and raised with country charm and manners to do anything else while in public.

Wild

Platonic

If you were to grab his hand of the blue then he’ll send a confident grin, take his hand out of yours and wrap his arm around your shoulders instead.

He’s a bit touchy with his personal space even if he has no problem invading your own.

You’d probably get a better reaction if you asked him first.

But if you’re closer friends with him, he’d actually be the one to grab to you

So it’s less likely that you’d be the one grabbing his hand and instead he’d be the one to drag along to whatever he plans on doing next.

Instead of grabbing his hand, it would be easier to get away with grabbing his arm or wrapping it with your own.

Or wrapping your own arm around his shoulders.

But grabbing his hand is a level of intimacy that he’s a little afraid to give to others.

Not to mention that he’s done a lot of fighting and still needs to fight at any moments notice, so he’s going to need his hands free.

He does appreciate it though, it’ll just a while (and more people than just you) for him to get used to it again.

Romantic

If you grabbed his hand out of the blue, you’re never getting it back.

Although he’s not all too comfortable with hand holding, you’re the exception and he doesn’t plan on letting you go any time soon.

He’d seek out your hand almost the entire time you’re together, just to hold onto you.

It helps ground him, lets him know that you’re there to support him whenever he might need it.

If he gets sucked into a memory, he likes to come back with your hand in his. 

It doesn’t happen all that often because it’s not something he’s told you but he always hopes you’re nearby.

One the occasion that you reach for his hand first, he’d still for a moment before relaxing completely, lacing your fingers together out of habit and smiling contently as you walk.

Wild is the kind of person that would hold your hand in his sleep, or while you sleep and is genuinely intrigued by the intricacy of your fingers.

He’d play with your hands constantly.

He finds it calming and relaxing.

Sky

Platonic

If you were to grab his hand out of the blue, he grin and hold it back with a small swing between you two before returning his attention to where it was before.

Hand holding is natural up on Skyloft so it’s not worth paying much attention to between friends.

It’s a simple form of affection that is shared by all people so Sky is glad that you consider him a close enough friend to hold his hand.

He doesn’t pay much attention to it actually.

It’s a familiar feeling that reminds him of companionship and it helps stabilize the subconscious feeling of uncertainty.

If you do it first, it give Sky to ok to search out your hand when ever he feel like.

You’d typically be holding hands whenever you’re paired off together.

It may lead to a conversation between some other people (either in the group) or some town you’d be visiting about how you’re just friends

After the indicial conversation about how’s there nothing between you two, by some well meaning (or judgmental) individual, Sky will be a little more self aware about it.

But if you don’t mind it, then Sky won’t worry about it too much.

Romantic

If you were to grab his hand out of the blue, he’d get a bit red in the face and a little shy but he’d be the guy to pull your hand up and place a quick to your knuckles before any one notices.

Sky is so happy to be with you that holding your hand is a constant occurrence.

It’ll almost be as if you two are connected at the hip instead of your hands.

Because of this, no one questions who either of you would be paired off with when the group needs to split up.

Occasionally Sky or you will choose a different partner for the day or for the necessary occasion.

But it’s typically you two against the world.

Sky is very fond of hand kisses so expect a lot of those when you’re next to him.

He’s also inclined to play with your hands in whatever down time you may have.

When you grab Sky’s hand, he always pulls you a little closer to him.

He gets a little conflicted about holding your hand and wanting to hug you flush against himself but he really enjoys having you close

Warrior

Platonic

If you were grab his hand out of the blue, he’d stall and look at you and seeing that it’s just you, would smile back simple let it happen.

It’s not going to be a big deal to him if it’s you or any one else of the chain.

(Mask and Wind may have gotten him used to being clung to during the War- it’s the care taker in him)

He won’t mention it if you won’t.

There’s no reason to make it weird and sometimes people just need to be held.

That being said, he prefer it if you asked first- but he’s not going to make a fuss about it if you don’t... just common curtesy, you know?

He might actually forget that you’re holding hands for a time until you either let go or he need his hand back and has to take it away.

As long as there’s no immediate treats nearby, he’d hold you hand for as long as you need.

He might actually offer it to you if he sees that’s you’re afraid or upset during travel or spooky dungeon crawls.

One of the more chill people to hold hands with, seeing as he’s more or less been conditioned as an older brother to the point where he’s gotten used to it no matter the circumstance

Romantic

If you were to grab his hand out of the blue, he would instantly lace your fingers together and would be grinning like a fool for the next hour or so.

He’s a bit hesitant with anything grandiose as romantic gestures (for reasons having to do with a crazy dark sorceress-) so something small and subtle just hits him right in his heart.

He’s going to want to be by your side all the time, hand holding or otherwise just so you’re with his line of sight.

Warrior won’t typically be the one to reach for your hand first

He’s shy and doesn’t want to over step any boundaries you may have by invading your personal space (kinda the opposite to Wild in this regard)

That being said, this is mostly when you’re both in public or among friends.

In private he’s a little less self conscious about how others might perceive him.

He definitely reach for you while he sleeps though so try to stay on the same side every night or he might just grab someone else from the group.

Instead of kissing your knuckles this guy is the kind of person to kiss your palm or the inside of your wrist if he’s feeling a little more bold than usual.

For all his bravado, Warrior is very self conscious about his actions and appearance because all eyes are typically on him- so you holding his hand without expecting anything else hits the bulls eye.

Hyrule

Platonic

If you were to grab his hand out of the blue, he’d laugh and squeeze your hand a little bit before happily swinging it back and forth.

He won’t think much of it.

He’d also have no problems grabbing your own hand from time to time even if you don’t reach out to him first.

He’d grab your hand to drag you on whatever side adventure he feels like going on.

He’d hold your hand to keep you close when you’re alone in a dungeon together.

He’d hold you hand when he’s freaked out or when you’re freaked out.

He just likes holding the people he cares about close, whether it’s you or any member of the chain.

Like Sky, he doesn’t see an issue with it and has little to no issues with his personal space- it’s a pretty small bubble actually.

Hands are a special sort of connection for Hyrule because it’s where a lot of his magic flows out of. 

Since it’s a pivotal point of his perception of the world around him, he takes comfort in being able to read others by his touch alone and how they might be feeling at the time.

Romantic

If you were to grab his hand out of the blue, Hyrule might not even notice it in the beginning.

He’d typically be holding onto you one way or another, and there’s always something going on right by his finger tips.

But by the time he notices that you’re holding hands, he’d smile and bashfully look at them for a minute or two before returning his attention to where it was prior.

It makes him happy in a fluttery sense that he can only compare to the moments when he takes flight in his fairy form.

He finds it warm and it flows all through his arm and chest and body- to where it feels like he’s been completely encompassed by a sense of safety and acceptance.

He would eventually find himself seeking your hand and your presence even if you’re no longer net to him for whatever reason.

He just begins to reach out next to him subconsciously expecting you to be there only for his heart to come crashing down when you’re not there.

Even if you’re not holding hands, he wants to have some connection to you.

An arm around your shoulders, around your waist, a hand playing with your hair, with the fringes of your clothes...

He might just hold onto the straps of your bags when you’re wearing them if you don’t want to hold his hand.

Hyrule doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable with his constant presence- but he’s clingy.

Four

Platonic

If you were to grab his hand out of the blue, Four would naturally be startled enough to ask what’s up.

If you say that you just wanted to hold his hand, he’d be little confused as to why did you choose him but he’s not going to make a scene over something as simple as hand holding.

Even if there’s a day where he doesn’t want it. 

Red does the same thing all the time when they’re split so you’ve got someone in your corner supporting you when it comes to spontaneous hand holding.

And the minish have never been shy about handholding anyway so they tend to grab and drag him around all the time as well.

It may not be the way he’d show his friendship but he supposes everyone is different and he likes being your friend.

It’s not a strict boundary that you’re crossing while you do this, so he lets it slide.

Like Legend, the more you do it though, the more he grows comfortable with it and grows to anticipate it and even prefer it when it comes to you.

He likes holding your hand as you travel when it gets to that point and he begins to search for your hand almost as much as you’d search for his.

It’s a quiet form of acceptance that Four appreciates from you and your friendship.

It’s not much but Four is the kind of person to enjoy the little things and he finds it to be a simple thing his overloaded brain can focus on on the louder days.

Romantic

If you were to grab his hand out of the blue, this dude will be so happy. I’m talking instant pep in his step- borderline skipping down the trail you’re on.

He’s more likely to play with your hands than you are to play with his when you’re not traveling for the day.

His hands are covered with calluses and miniscule scars so he’s captivated by the lack of such on your own.

Four, like many others of the chain, tends to seek your hand out even when he’s asleep.

He’d rather hold your hand than put his arm around your waist.

He’d also be the kind of guy that fidgets a lot- so if you’re holding hands be aware that he’s going to squeeze your hand a lot, brush over your knuckles, your wrist and your palm

He’d give your fingers individual attention, pulling gently on your skin, bending them, gently twisting and watching them move

Four’s favorite time to hold your hand however is when it’s late at night, and everyone is quiet and on the cusp of sleep and maybe you’re asleep too, but it’s then when he’d play with your hand and gently brush his fingertips across your skin as he drifts off to sleep as well.

He’s very hands on

It’s very quiet and sweet, he loves it.

Legend

Platonic

If were to grab his hand out of the blue, he would definitely rip it out of your hold out of sheer awkwardness.

Especially near the beginning when you first join the group.

It would take you a few tries to get it to stick where he gives up on it.

Later on, once he’s grown used to it, he just lets you do what you want.

Whether that be play with his hand, just hold it or swing it around.

As long as you don’t try to play with or take off his rings he’s fine.

He’s pretty tolerant of it afterwards but it can easily blamed on the notion tat he’s come to expect it from you and know that you wouldn’t have given up otherwise.

It’s almost like a kill them with kindness scenario but with personal space and simple affectionate gestures instead.

It helps when Hyrule catches wind of your spontaneous hand holding and joins the cause.

So Legend has his hands full most of the time when you travel.

Literally.

It’s a good thing he has to two of them.

Romantic

If you were to grab his hand out of the blue, then he’d be a shy and stuttering mess for the entire time and even up to an hour after you’ve stopped holding onto him.

He’s a softly on the inside and he can’t help it.

But he also isn’t use to simple affection- especially since he’s on his own more often than not.

He wants to keep a loner attitude and how he doesn’t need anyone next to him. It’s why he’d shrug you off if you weren’t as close as you are.

But hand holding is a universal simple sign of ‘Hey, I want you next to me, I want to be next to you. And he doesn’t know how to properly articulate a response, let alone how to manage the emotions that come with it.

So he goes all red and blushy from the tips of his ears all the way down to his chest but he holds your hand back with a soft smile and squeezes you gently.

It’s a shame he can’t quite look you in the eyes as it happens.

He gets really shy.

He’s under the impression that he shouldn’t quite enjoy it as much as he wants to... not if he’ll eventually lose it. Because he loses everything. And he’s not sure if he’s willing to suffer through the heart break afterwards even if it feel all soft and warm to hold you now.

It’s up to you to prove him otherwise and with enough time and patience, he’ll come around to accepting simple affection from more than just the friends around him.

He’ll fully allow himself to be encompassed by your relationship and what it means to love someone with his whole mind, body, heart and soul.

[bitsandbobsofwriting]

Long Lost Prince Part 2;

Merlin leads his people home and Arthur grapples with whether he should keep his feelings to himself or not.

Part 1

Just like Arthur promised, a portion of Camelot's army mixed with around fifty of Merlin's knights are marching towards the Dragonlands within a month.

Merlin and Arthur lead the way, Sir Thornway, Sir Leon, and Sir Mordred following closely behind. It was decided fairly quickly that Hunith and Gaius would stay in Camelot; they were desperate to get home, but they weren't fighters, and whilst the chance of attack was fairly low considering the army behind them and the two dragons circling ahead, Arthur and Merlin were unwilling to risk it.

At a quick pace, Arthur reckons they could've made the journey in a week, but the army is slow-moving, and it takes them almost three to reach the border. They don't hear a peep out of anyone as they move through the countryside, though Arthur does raise an amused eyebrow at Merlin every once in a while, as and when the Warlock chuckles at Kilgharrah whispering in his head about all the various pathetic mercenaries and bandits running away screaming at the sight of his silhouette against the clouds.

The Dragonland, in comparison to Camelot, was a very small kingdom, but it’s capital city was near the far border, backed by miles and miles of towering mountains. In one of the many sessions of reminiscing that Merlin, Thornway, and Kilgharrah have in the evenings, they discuss the mountains at length. They were mostly uninhabited by people, even before the purge, they were far too treacherous for those without a guide and strong magic, and even then the paths were still dangerous.

The great mountains were where the Dragon’s resided; in a network of twisting tunnels and great caverns carved with fire and magic. Merlin vaguely remembers being taken there a few weeks before... before they left. Thornway told him that retreating into the mountains was one of the back up plans, if Uther’s army was too big and there was no hope of escape through the countryside.

(Arthur frowned at that. He was frowning at a lot nowadays, but Merlin just squeezed his leg under the blanket they were sharing (Leon did NOT smirk and Arthur did NOT blush) and whispered, yet again, that he was not his father.)

The escape through the mountains was planned to be a last ditch effort though, even with the dragons leading them and their strongest sorcerers protecting them, the perilous paths, with their knife edge drops and loose rocks and harsh snow, would have taken too many casualties to count. Though, in the end, escaping through the countryside had been just as deadly.

Arthur also used the journey to think about what Leon had said. Though Merlin and The King stuck close by for the whole trek, conversation was sparse (though the silences were comfortable); Arthur was unsure how to bring up the inevitable change in their relationship, though he knows that, for his own peace of mind if nothing else, he should.

They were deep into the Kingdom, having passed all the now doubly abandoned outer villages (Arthur was right in thinking that two dragons and a marching army scared away all the various mercenary groups and bandits) and now only a day’s ride from the capital, that Arthur asked Merlin the question that had been plaguing his mind for weeks. The two of them were sat against a fallen log, the night flourishing around them. The silence over the rest of the camp was tense, the knowledge that they were close hanging in the air, but the silence between Merlin and Arthur was comfortable, peaceful:

“What are you planning on doing?”

Merlin took a noticeably deep breath and Arthur turned to him, trying desperately to keep the worried frown off his face:

“I don’t know. I didn’t really discuss it with ma, we just... wanted to get home, and work from there, see what happens I guess.”

Arthur nodded, gulping slightly before he responds:

“Do you think she wants the throne? Your mother? Or will you become King?”

Merlin chuckles, but Arthur clenches his hands and looks away at the humourless lilt the noise has:

“I’d love to see her back in her crown, on her throne, but it’s been a long time. She did everything with my father by her side, I don’t know if... if she would want to do it on her own. I don’t know that she would cope.-”

The Warlock turns to face Arthur, and it strikes The King how close they are when he can feel Merlin’s breath on his cheek. He turns to meet his gaze once more:

“-What would you do, Arthur? In my place?”

Arthur can only hold his stare for a few moments before he looks to his lap, shaking his head slightly:

“I don’t know, Merlin. Tell me what’s on your mind, I... I can’t promise that I’ll have the answers, but maybe saying things out-loud will help.”

Merlin nods as he shuffles in his spot slightly, and Arthur likes to think that he was moving closer:

“I... I’m desperate to get home. But at the same time, I waited. I waited for twenty years, I’ve built myself a life in Camelot, I’d... given up on ever returning home, and I was just about coming to terms with the fact that Camelot was my home now. And then... this. I have to lead my people back, I know that, I owe it to them, it’s my job to protect them and give them back their heritage-”

Arthur interrupts quietly:

“Your heritage.”

Merlin sighs:

“-yeah, my heritage. My mother, and Gaius, and my people, and... and I, we deserve to go home. But I was only six when we left, I never got all the lessons on how to be a Politician, a King. Yes, I’m the heir, yes, I remember home and the crown and being a little Prince, but I am not built to be a King, Arthur, I don’t want to- I can’t fail my people, but I fear I will. I... I’ve been putting up a brave front for my mum, for Thornway, but I’m terrified. I have no idea what I’m doing, Arthur. What if I mess up?”

Arthur allows a small smile to slip onto his face as he takes Merlin’s fidgeting hands in his own. He shakes his head as he huffs out a short laugh and Merlin looks at him incredulously:

“You couldn’t possibly, Merlin. I know you well, do I not?-”

Merlin nods his head vigorously:

“Better than anyone.”

Arthur fights the blush:

“-And I’m telling you, that you have nothing to worry about. You may not have had official lessons, but you have the mind for politics.-”

Arthur glances to his lap briefly as he takes a fortifying breath, stroking his thumbs over the back of Merlin’s hands, still clutched in his, and looking up to him again:

“-I had all those lessons. All that training, and practicing, and tutoring. But I was still so... lost when I became King. I don’t think I ever told you, Merlin, but the only thing that got me through was you, always by my side. Because I knew that you would never let me fail, because I trusted you to see my shortcomings and make up for them without fuss, without fault. And you did, without asking for any thanks, or recognition, like you do with everything. To this day, you think I’m a good King because of destiny, but that’s utter bollocks and I’ve always known it. I’m a good King, Merlin, because you made me a good man first. And on days when I doubt my own rule, I remind myself of how much faith you have in me, and it gives me strength, because I know you would never allow me to fail, and on the off chance I fall, I know you would catch me. Every good King who cares about his people has doubts, Merlin, but however much faith you have in me? I have the same amount, if not more, in you. You’ll do just fine.”

Merlin looks at him with wide, teary eyes, and Arthur flushes under the scrutiny. The King goes to say something, maybe a flippant joke to de-charge the atmosphere, but before he can utter even a word, Merlin throws himself at him, wrapping tight arms around his shoulders and burying his face in his neck. Arthur almost falls back, but he holds steady, chuckling slightly as he returns Merlin’s hug with equal intensity. Merlin’s muffled voice from his shoulder has Arthur tightening his grip:

“Will you catch me? If I fall?”

Arthur moves a hand up to cradle the back of Merlin’s head:

“You won’t fall. But I’d spend the rest of my life stood below you with my arms out ready, Merlin, if that gave you just a fraction of the belief in yourself that you should have.”

Neither pulled away for what felt like hours, and by the time Thornway wondered over to check on them, they had fallen asleep against the log, arms still firmly wrapped around each other.

He smiles mournfully as he drapes a blanket over them. You would have to be blind to miss the odd moroseness that had overtaken them both, and the old knight knew that his Prince was dreading having to leave Arthur, and that Arthur was dreading the same. They shuffle in their sleep, and Thornway freezes, worried that he had woken them, but when Arthur just mutters Merlin’s name and moves impossibly closer to the other man Thornway sighs. This is going to be... painful for the two of them, and he’s not quite sure how he can help.

~

After another day of travel, they find themselves moving through the capital city, towards the castle sitting at the foot of the mountains.

The army was left with orders to methodically clear the city whilst Arthur, Leon, Thornway, and Mordred headed straight for the citadel gates. Though the city had fallen into disrepair, the castle looked like it had barely been touched, even by the elements, and Thornway explained that powerful enchantments laid over the ancient building, preventing it from being invaded or damaged by even the strongest of armies:

“It was meant to be a stronghold, somewhere we could hide and keep our people safe in emergencies, but we knew if we did that we would have backed ourselves into a corner. Uther was taking over more and more of the city every day, if we locked ourselves in... we would have just starved. Trying to escape through the city and out into the wilderness was our only hope.”

Merlin nods absent-mindedly as he stares up at the main door:

“Can we even get in?”

His voice is quiet and shaky, and Mordred steps forward to put a hand on his shoulder as Thornway replies with a small smile:

“You’re the heir, the doors will always open for you, Little Falcon.”

Merlin replies with a weak smirk and flushed cheeks:

“You know, I’m not all that little anymore.”

Thornway barks out a laugh as he shakes his head slightly, ruffling Merlin’s hair as the younger man pouts:

“Well, you’ll always be littler than me.-”

Merlin goes to retort, but before he can, his knight steps back and gestures to the great doors in front of them:

“-Go on, it’s time for us to finally come home, I think.”

Merlin gulps and nods, and Mordred lets his hand fall back to his side as the older Warlock takes the steps two at a time, hesitating only slightly before he wraps his hand around one of the doors’ metal rings. It twists easily in his grip, and the door swings open. Merlin has to take a step back and cover his mouth with his sleeve as he coughs, the billowing clouds of dust being disturbed for the first time in two decades making it almost impossible to see into the dark hall.

It settles after a few moments and Merlin takes a deep breath, reaching behind him wordlessly and relaxing only when he feels Arthur take his hand. The blonde King gives his hand a comforting squeeze, and Merlin takes his first shaking steps across the threshold.

He walks through the dark corridors slowly, one hand tightly clenched in Arthur’s, the other trailing along the wall next to him. The rest of the group is silent as they follow him, and nothing can be heard bar their muffled steps over the dusty rugs, and the deep breathing of Merlin and Thornway.

Merlin seems to know where he’s going, so no one questions the corners he turns and the rooms he passes without second thought. The deeper into the castle they get, the darker it becomes, until finally Merlin stops, a long hall stretched out in front of him. His eyes flash gold and the torches lining the walls flare up, illuminating the corridor in golden light. Arthur turns to look at the Warlock beside him, empathetic tears gathering in his eyes as he sees tracks on Merlin’s cheeks. 

Merlin turns to glance at Thornway, whose in a similar state, before closing his eyes and flattening his free hand against the wall, digging his fingertips into the cracks as his voice comes out quiet and raspy:

“I know these halls, this stone.-”

Thornway takes a deep stuttering breath, muttering Merlin’s name. Merlin steps away from the wall, looking back to his knight with a weak, teary smile:

“-Do you remember? Chambers filled with golden light, vast halls bustling with people and dragons and magic?”

Thornway gulps and nods, slowly moving towards Merlin and putting a hand on his shoulder:

“I remember.-”

He nods down the corridor, taking a deep breath and clearing his throat before asking:

“-You remember what’s down there?”

Merlin smiles and nods, squeezing Arthur’s hand and leading the group down the hall, obviously impatient to get to wherever their destination is, but unwilling to walk any quicker.

Leon and Arthur share a confused and slightly concerned look but don’t say anything, allowing Merlin and Thornway to lead the way. Once again, Merlin hesitates only slightly before pushing the door at the end of the corridor open. and the six of them gather inside the immense chamber. Like the rest of the castle, it was dusty, but untouched; unlike the rest of the castle, it was bathed in colourful light. The walls were high, the ceiling obviously stretching far above the surrounding rooms, and the afternoon sun shone brightly through giant stained glass windows. 

Reds and blues and greens and every other colour imaginable were splashed across the stone floor, painting pictures of dragons and flowers and family, but everyone’s eyes skip over the colourful artwork, instead being drawn to the two golden thrones sat on a dais at the other end of the hall. Merlin lets go of Arthur’s hand, walking towards the thrones with wide eyes as the others stay back, watching with a mix of pride and grief. Thornway follows after a few moments and Leon has to put a hand on Arthur’s shoulder, shaking his head slightly when the King looks at him. Arthur clenches his hands and looks away, but stays by the door, wanting more than anything to be with Merlin through this but also understanding that it wasn’t his place.

Merlin finally reaches the thrones.

He wipes the thick dust from the armrests with shaking, but reverent hands before sitting down on the steps, slightly to the side of the golden seats. He runs his fingertips over the stone, remembering every bump and crack and texture, and Thornway stands behind him, in line with the thrones, putting a hand on his shoulder and muttering:

“Now this brings back memories.”

Merlin nods, looking up at him, tears no longer flowing, but still gathering in his eyes:

“I... I don’t remember much, but I still... know. I know this is where I sat, with you behind me, ma and dad next to me on their thrones. I remember dad promising that when I was older, they’d have a throne made for me, so I could sit with them.”

Thornway nods, slowly moving to sit beside him, ignoring the creaking in his bones as he lets his weight fall onto the stone steps:

“Hmm. foreign royalty and dignitaries thought it odd that the King and Queen let you sit in on meetings, even as a young child, but they were always adamant; they didn’t want to hide you away. You were always safe, of course, but they wanted you exposed to the people and the people exposed to you. I suppose they wanted to nurture a natural love and protectiveness of your people in you; how could they expect you to serve the Kingdom well if you were only doing so out of duty, and not genuine love?”

Merlin hums thoughtfully before smiling briefly up at Arthur, still stood on the other side of the room. When Arthur tentatively returns the smile, despite not hearing the hushed conversation, Merlin looks to Thornway next to him, bumping shoulders with a short giggle:

“Probably why I’ve always been so disrespectful to Arthur, everyone in here was equal, no matter what. I guess that’s why the treatment of servants and commoners was such a shock when I moved to Camelot, I don’t really remember much of home, but it definitely felt different.”

Thornway nods as Merlin stands, holding out a hand to the knight and pulling him to his feet. Merlin’s gaze moves around the room, though he stays rooted to the spot, and Thornway asks his question quietly:

“What do you want to do? Do you want to finish clearing the castle and the city first, or fetch your mother and uncle first?”

Merlin gulps before taking a deep breath, staring at the floor and saying in a small voice:

“I don’t know... what do you think I should do?”

Thornway chuckles and shakes his head:

“This is your decision, Little Falcon. You are the Crown Prince, this is your Kingdom, your city, your people, trust your instincts. What should be done?”

Merlin looks to Arthur once again, reminding himself of the King’s promise to catch him should he fall, before looking back at Thornway with a determined expression:

“Send Kilgharrah to fetch ma and Gaius. We no longer need him as a deterrent, and we’ll still have Aithusa. He can make the journey to Camelot and back in a week at most, knights, even on horseback, will take at least twice that. It’s been a while since either of them went flying, but they’ll remember soon enough, and I trust Kilgharrah to keep them safe. We can keep clearing the city and start rough plans for rebuilding whilst we wait.”

Thornway grins and nods proudly:

“Exactly what I would have suggested. See? You’ll be just fine.-”

Merlin returns his grin shyly, blushing slightly as he rubs the back of his neck. Thornway rolls his eyes good-naturedly before gesturing to the others:

“-Come, My Lord, we should let the others know and head out to send Kilgharrah off as soon as possible.”

Merlin pushes the older knight’s shoulder playfully at the use of a title, but Thornway just smirks and waves Merlin ahead of him.

~

Arthur, Leon, and Mordred were told of the plan as the group made their way out of the castle again, having to cover their eyes when they step into the bright sunlight. They all smiled fondly as they saw Merlin’s growing confidence, though Arthur had to stamp down the growing anxiety swirling in his stomach; he refused to be sad for himself.

Kilgharrah was flying back towards Camelot within the hour, and Merlin was separating the army into groups and assigning tasks with a strong voice and straight back, taking every question and suggestion in his stride and organising hundreds of people without issue.

Arthur knew that there was still a conversation to be had between himself and Merlin, though with every day that passed he questioned whether it was the right thing to do. He wasn’t oblivious enough not to notice the way Merlin always asked for his council, even when he didn’t need it, always searched for his eyes in the crowd when he addressed his people, but that didn’t mean that his... affections, were returned.

Everyone, even Thornway now, kept shooting him pitying looks, and he figured out fairly quickly that he wasn’t as subtle as he’d like to believe. Leon was the only one he could rely on to convincingly pretend nothing was wrong, and Arthur used that to back up his deliberate ignoring of his stupid emotions.

Six days had passed and the clearing of debris from the lower town was well on its way when Kilgharrah landed in the castle courtyard, his two passengers tense and teary. Only Hunith, Gaius, Merlin, and Thornway took the journey through the castle this time; the others continued to help with the work in the town, not quite feeling that they would be welcome on the emotional tour.

Hunith decided fairly quickly that she would move on to become Queen Mother. Merlin would be crowned King (though he put his foot down and insisted that it wouldn’t happen until everything was properly sorted, and the people were settled back in the city), and though Hunith would still be the most senior of the royals, Merlin would technically have the most power. 

Arthur had mixed feelings about that. 

As King, Merlin would be a lot busier, would have a lot more responsibilities, but equally, he would have much more control over the use of his time; somehow making it both harder and easier to organise visits between the two of them. Though Arthur, of course, didn’t mention such feelings, just pulled Merlin into another tight hug and congratulated him with a grin.

With the help of Merlin and Mordred’s magic, and the few sorcerers scattered throughout the army they had brought, clearing the town of debris and rebuilding what they could with whatever was left went fairly quickly. Soon enough, the blacksmith’s and an infirmary were up and running, and the farms were ready for work to commence, just as soon as the resources from Camelot arrived.

The castle, whilst it had been fully explored by Merlin, Hunith, Thornway, and Gaius, had yet to be opened up to others or cleaned properly, but no one mentioned it. The gang slept happily in homes rebuilt in the upper town, and accepted Merlin’s excuse of wanting to focus on the people’s infrastructure first.

It was a week or so after Hunith and Gaius had arrived, Kilgharrah and Aithusa had disappeared into the mountains with Merlin’s approval, and Arthur once again found Merlin stood in the otherwise empty, still dusty throne room, staring at the golden seats with his hands in his pockets and his face tense.

Years ago, Arthur would’ve been wrong in his assumption that Merlin hadn’t heard him approach, but just this once he knows that he’s right. Arthur had slowly become an expert on picking up Merlin’s ticks, and even in the low light of the evening the blonde could tell that Merlin had no clue he was there.

Arthur didn’t want to feel like he was intruding, so cleared his throat quietly, only walking closer to the other man when his head whipped around, smiling slightly when he saw it was just Arthur.

Arthur stepped up next to him, and they both stared at the thrones in silence, shoulders brushing ever so slightly. Everything had been so busy in recent weeks that, other than the conversation two weeks earlier, Arthur and Merlin had spent barely any time together, just the two of them; every other time Arthur had found Merlin alone in the throne room he had shut the door quietly behind him and left, too afraid to intrude, not quite ready to start a conversation. The conversation.

After a few minutes, he clears his throat again and speaks in a quiet voice, not looking to the Warlock next to him:

“What’s on your mind?”

Merlin responds almost immediately, but like Arthur, he speaks quietly and doesn’t move his gaze from the thrones:

“Nothing, everything. I’m... doing ok, I think.-”

Arthur nods with a small smile, but Merlin continues before he can say anything:

“-But I’m scared that I’m only doing well because you’re here. You have to go back to Camelot eventually and... it sounds stupid, but I... I don’t want you to go. I need you, Arthur.”

Arthur gulps, finally looking to Merlin’s sorrowful face, though the other man refuses to meet his gaze. He takes his hands out of his pockets, fiddling with them roughly, rubbing his knuckles together and scratching his palms harshly. Arthur clenches his jaw, taking one of Merlin’s hands in his own gently and running soothing fingers over the younger man’s callouses:

“I know what you mean.-”

Merlin looks to him in surprise, his eyes widening, and Arthur continues with a small smile:

“-I told you, Merlin, I’m only a good King because of you. I’ve never had to rule on my own before and I’m dreading going back to Camelot without you.-”

Merlin shakes his head roughly, but Arthur continues once again, before he can disagree:

“-No, Merlin, don’t argue, it’s true. I... I need you as well, I don’t want to be without you, and I’ve no clue how I’m going to cope with a week’s ride between us. Leon tried talking some sense into me back in Camelot, and I know he was right, that all relationships take effort and we’ll have to work incredibly hard to stay in each other’s lives in any significant capacity, and I’m absolutely willing to do anything to keep you close, if not physically then... otherwise, but I’m still...-”

Arthur sighs and looks away, his cheeks just a little bit pink as he continues quietly:

“-I’m still scared to be without you.”

Merlin gulps and squeezes Arthur’s hand in his own, waiting for the blonde to finally look up at him again. The Warlock smiles at the eye contact and Arthur returns it weakly as Merlin finally replies:

“The last ten years of my life have revolved around you, completely and utterly, and I know it’s selfish of me to... not want that to change. I know I’m staying here, with my people, as their King. I would never consider abandoning them, not really, but I desperately want to, just so I can stay with you. We... we’ll figure something out, find some way to communicate quickly. I’m magic incarnate, there has to be a way, I... I’ll make a way, if I have to.”

The tears in Arthur’s eyes finally overflow at Merlin’s determined tone, but before the other man can say anything about it, Arthur pulls him into a tight hug, clutching his cloak in shaking fingers and burying his face in his shoulder, for once feeling grateful for the extra inch in height that Merlin has on him. Merlin returns the hug without hesitation, closing his eyes against the tears, though not managing to stop them from falling as he quietly speaks, his voice thick:

“I promised that I would stay with you until the day I died, but I... I have to leave, I... I can’t-”

Arthur tightens the hug as he interrupts him:

“No, Merlin, you owe me nothing, you don’t have to explain. You’ve already given me my kingdom, now it’s my chance to return the favour. I would never ever ask you to leave this behind just for me.”

Arthur can feel Merlin’s body shaking with silent sobs, and he runs a hand through his hair softly, breathing deeply in an effort to hold in his own bawling. 

They stand wrapped in each other for a while, neither willing to let go even when their tears dry up and their breathing evens out. Eventually Merlin rasps out a whispered:

“I don’t want to lose you.”

Arthur pulls back at long last, but doesn’t go far, leaning his forehead against Merlin’s and closing his eyes before replying:

“You won’t. We’ll take turns hosting Yule celebrations, and I can visit on your birthday, and there’ll be tournaments of course, and trade routes, and shared patrols near the border. I refuse to let you slip from my grasp, Merlin, you’ll never be without me, not for long anyway.”

Merlin huffs out a gentle laugh, and Arthur thinks the flutter of his breath over his cheeks and through his eyelashes is the most beautiful thing he’s ever felt. Both of them open their eyes, but they don’t move away from each other, even as they stare, becoming increasingly aware of the very little amount of space between them. Arthur’s brows crease slightly but he ignores the concerned question in Merlin’s eyes, instead lifting a hand to gently cup his jaw, gulping as Merlin’s expression falls into a soft smile.

The King takes a deep breath as he summons his courage, eyes filling with tears again as he clears his throat, whispering so quietly that it’s a miracle Merlin hears him, even with only inches between them:

“Merlin, I... you mean a great deal to... I mean I... -”

He cuts himself off with a quiet huff, and Merlin smirks at the slight blush dusting his cheeks, patiently waiting for him to continue. Arthur shuts his eyes tightly, taking another deep breath before opening them with a newfound determination. He meant it, he’d come this far, he was not going to let Merlin slip away:

“I love you, you are the single most important person in my life, and I would go to the ends of this world just to see you smile. I owe you my life, and so much more than that; you’ve been making promises and swearing oaths to my crown for years-”

Merlin interrupts him quietly:

“To you, to Arthur, not the crown, to you.”

Arthur huffs slightly and rolls his eyes:

“I’m trying to confess my undying love here Merlin, and I’m not very good with this whole... expressing shit, so shut up and let me finish.-”

Merlin snorts but stays otherwise silent, raising an eyebrow to prompt Arthur to continue:

“-Like I was saying. You’ve been swearing things for years, and now it’s my turn.-”

Arthur steps back, taking Merlin’s hands tightly in his own as he lowers himself to one knee, pressing his forehead to the Warlock’s knuckles:

“-I swear on my crown and in the name of Camelot, that I will always love you, that I will always be ready catch you, and that I will never stop putting the work in to make sure I don’t lose you, that you don’t lose me.”

The blonde can hear Merlin’s stuttered breathe and barely has time to process Merlin’s whispered-

“I accept your oath.”

-before he’s being pulled to his feet and urgently kissed.

One of Merlin’s hands settles on the side of Arthur’s neck and the other grips his hip. Arthur’s arms flail for only a moment in his shock before he moves to clutch Merlin’s collar tightly, closing his eyes and kissing back, pushing as much of his devotion into the action as possible and wanting nothing more than to sooth the stress-induced bite marks on Merlin’s lips.

They pull back far too soon, as far as both of them are concerned, once again resting their foreheads against each other as they catch their breath. Arthur’s face slowly morphs into a grin as he says:

“And to think I was stressing over whether I should tell you for weeks.”

Merlin rolls his eyes in response, snorting in amusement as he admits, much to Arthur’s chagrin:

“Believe me, I already knew, you weren’t very subtle. You’ve been sulking.”

Arthur lets out an incredulous huff and pulls back, still holding Merlin’s collar but staring at Merlin’s amused raised eyebrow with wide eyes:

“I am a King, Merlin, I do not sulk.”

Merlin chuckles:

“Well so am I, and yes you do.”

Arthur narrows his eyes slightly:

“Not yet you’re not. That’s besides the point, if you knew... why didn’t you say anything?”

Merlin’ face falls slightly, and if Arthur had to guess, he’d say that Merlin looked a little guilty. The blonde furrowed his brows but pulls his Warlock close again, stroking his jaw softly with his thumb as he waits for an answer:

“I... I love you, Arthur, more than anything, but... I wanted see if you would do anything about it. I knew I would do anything for you, but I needed... I needed to know if you thought I was worth the distance, the effort. If I said something first, I never would have known... I would always be second guessing if you were about to... to break it off, because you didn’t want to put in the frankly ridiculous amount of effort it’s going to take to keep things... good.”

Arthur smiles and shakes his head disbelievingly, landing a quick kiss to the tip of Merlin’s nose and smirking at the way his face scrunches in response:

“Well, now you do know. I will do anything, everything, to keep you happy and safe and loved. You will always be in my heart, if not by my side.”

Merlin smiles, and the two of them resolutely ignore the tears gathering in their eyes as he whispers his reply:

“As will I. I’ll talk to the Druids, Kilgharrah, Thornway, I’m sure we’ll be able to figure out some magical way to communicate.”

Arthur just smiles and nods, taking Merlin’s hands in his own once more:

“Ready to head to sleep? It’s late, and I know you’re tired.”

Merlin takes a deep breath, glancing to the thrones before walking towards the door, keeping Arthur’s hand securely in his:

“Yeah. Though unless we sneak past the others I doubt we’ll get to sleep for a while. Morgana’s been speaking to me in my head and teasing me for weeks and my mum keeps hinting at how politically beneficial a marriage between the kingdoms would be.”

Arthur doesn’t even try to hide his snort, but nods in agreement and squeezes Merlin’s hand, following him out into the star-lit evening with a newfound enthusiasm to see what the future will bring.

~

THE END OF PART 2!!!

I think I’ll write one more reeeaally short part, a ten years later sort of thing, just because I have a few more ideas about this, but no real huge plot points, just cute little things I want to add in but haven’t found space for yet.

This took a little longer than I expected to come out, but I hope y’all enjoyed it!!

(and yes, I may have taken a little inspiration from The Hobbit movies, sue me (pls don’t, I’m kidding))