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paintyoureyeswithavividmind · 11 months

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close to home | chapter four

plot: Daryl and the reader get to know each other in the gray hours of the morning, and he needs to decide whether or not she's a good person and someone he can trust around his family.

series masterlist

Pairing: Eventual Daryl Dixon x f!reader Word Count: 2,530 Warnings: violence, blood A/N: thanks for reading!

The rain had dulled into a softer downpour, and the thunder echoed in the distance. Still, you decided to fill every possible container with rainwater. You insisted it would be less work cause it wouldn’t have to be boiled.

Daryl couldn’t exactly get a read on you. Anyone out here alone couldn’t be in the best mindset, and if you were telling the truth and you had been out by yourself since nearly the beginning, well, he couldn’t imagine the toll it had on someone. This world was hard enough without having to go at it alone.

Despite that, you seemed decent enough. He didn’t believe you to be a threat, at least not while he was awake. And he couldn’t figure out why you didn’t shoot him back in the woods when he pulled the crossbow on you. He believed any sane person would’ve. But then again, he didn’t let the arrow fly either.

The treehouse seemed okay enough, and he didn’t miss the stockpile of ammo in the room. You had quite a collection of ammo. You were just missing something to shoot it with. You had plenty of knives, though. Enough to gut someone ten times over. But you didn’t have one on you. You’d set it down. Did you trust him? Did you not care if you lived or died?

Waves of frustration rippled off him; the thunderstorm and walkers had ruined what was supposed to be a simple run. And hell, Rick wasn’t even supposed to have joined them. Not with Lori due in a few days, and the group barely has control over their cell block. They barely had enough food to keep them going, which was the only reason why they were out there in the first place. The food they got from the prisoners wouldn’t last them long, and they needed real meat.

He looked up and glanced at where you were sitting. You’d moved over to the window and pulled back the makeshift curtain, the breeze flowing in. Each time the distant lightning cracked, he could make out the features of your face since you’d moved away from the fire.

“You said you went to medical school?” Daryl asked you.

It took a moment before you realized he’d even asked a question. “I did. I was about to start my residency. Why?”

He hesitated for a moment. “You know anything about delivering babies?”

This captured your full attention, and you looked away, “Why? You due soon?”

Daryl didn’t sense the sarcasm in your tone, “Ain’t for me. Got a friend. Due in a couple days.”

You shook your head, “I don’t know much. Besides, you said you wouldn’t tell me about your group.”

Daryl snorted but didn’t say anything as he leaned back against the wall. Bringing her back, someone with medical training, that would be big. Hershel wouldn’t be alone, and you might know more about humans. Still, it’d be a risk. He didn’t know if it was worth perusing. They’d been okay with just Hershel…

“I have a group,” Daryl said, “There’s eleven of us. This is how this works. You tell me your story. Tell me who you are and what you’ve done. Maybe if everything’s good… maybe I bring you back with me.”

You continued looking out the window, and Daryl started to think you hadn’t heard him cause the silence stretched so long. But finally, you turned to look at him, “Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why would you bring me back with you? You don’t know me….”

“You coulda shot me in the head, coulda left me to die in the woods. I mighta survived, I mighta. But you helped me. Even now, you sit with no weapons. You ain’t even lookin’ at me. I don’ think ya dangerous.”

You smiled sadly, “No, I’m not dangerous.”

“I tell ya what. You tell me what I wanna know. We pack this place up and go when the storm clears.”

“You just want my supplies and medical help with that baby,”

Daryl shrugged, “Maybe. But ain’t that the way the world works now.”

Again, you were silent and you looked out the window for a few minutes. Finally, you took a deep breath and looked at him. “How about this. We tell each other what we both wanna know, and I decide if I wanna trust you.”

Daryl nodded slowly, “Aight, that’s fair.”

***

The wall was cold against your skin, and the rainwater splashes made you shiver even more. The fire was dying, and the treehouse was growing darker. You slowly moved from your spot and put more logs on the fire. Then you went to grab an old can of peaches and gave Daryl another can of food too.

“I was up in Atlanta when everything happened. Liam was one of those survivalists, always thinking about the end of the world. He wasn’t crazy about it. I mean, hell, he was right. But he knew things, and he knew how to take care of himself. So when the world went to shit, we got the hell out of Atlanta. He said that if there’s a cure, he will wait it out,

“So we took off, headed down south. His parents lived around here. They didn’t make it. But this treehouse was his. He and his dad built it years ago. It used to have stairs, but we knocked them down when a dead one got up on the porch. We fixed this place up together. I’ve been here since.”

“Winter musta sucked,”

You laughed and nodded while taking another bite of your food. “It did. There’s no insulation. I got snowed in a few times. But Tora and I… we managed. It’s been just us since October, I think. I don’t know,” You shook your head, “I had some family down here too, but I checked their place out, burnt down and overrun, just like every other shithole.”

“And before? Before all this?”

“Why does it even matter? I was just a normal person. I was in school, engaged, and living the dream in Atlanta. It doesn’t matter.”

Daryl nodded, “It’s easy to think that way,”

“Not sure there’s any other way to think,” You said, “So what about you? Your group, been together before?”

He shook his head, “No, we met each other on the road. We’ve lost a few people, gained a few people too. We’re holding up nice now if we can make it work. Our leader, Rick, and his wife are pregnant. Abouta pop. We have a man that can help, but I don’t know. I figured someone else might help too.”

You nodded and looked around the treehouse. This was a place you knew before and after. A place that you loved and hated. It was home and a prison, with memories that hurt every time you stepped in. And you were alone. And you were tired.

“Your leader, Rick… will he take me?”

“He will. You helped me, you coulda killed me, and you didn’t. Plus, you got medical supplies and ammo. Our group needs both.”

You glanced at your stockpile. Your lifeline. Could you trade that? What if they took it and killed you right after?

Daryl seemed to sense your hesitation. “I could kill you right now if I wanted to. I coulda killed you too, back in the woods. Woulda been real easy to just pull the trigger. But I didn’t. I’m taking a leap of faith here, too, (Y/N).”

“Can Tora come?”

This made Daryl laugh, and he looked at the giant cat stretched out by the fire. “Yeah, yeah. We probably got a rat problem. We’ll keep her busy. Everyone pitches in. Besides, we got a kid. He’d probably love an animal around.”

You nodded and tossed the empty can aside. “I’m really familiar with the area. Been here before and after. You tell me where your camp is, and I bet I can get you there.”

“We at a prison,”

Your eyebrows rose. “I know what one you’re talking about. About twenty miles north of here, right? Liam and I saw it a while back. It was full of walkers.”

“Not anymore.”

“Big group,” You said, your stomach tight with nerves. “If they kill me, promise me you’ll make sure Tora lives.”

The archer chuckled, “No one’s gonna kill ya.”

“I have a car. About two miles north of here is Liam’s parent's house. I keep some stuff there sometimes. If no one’s broken it, we can get to it once the storm clears and the sun’s up. I’m not walking twenty miles again.”

“Me neither,”

***

Sometime in the early morning, sleep found you. When your eyes opened a few hours later, the sun had been up for at least an hour. It took a few seconds before your memory came back to you and you jumped up, looking for the stranger from yesterday.

The treehouse was empty, and your stockpile was gone. And so was Tora. “Son of a bitch,” You muttered, getting up. You grabbed your matchete and ran to the door. It was slightly ajar, and you nearly fell over when it opened so easily.

“Jesus, you tryin’ wake everythin’ up around here?” Daryl stood by the balcony's edge, lowering the baskets with some rope.

“I thought….”

“Yeah, I know what you thought, but I didn’,” Daryl said, “I was gonna wake ya up soon. Your cat brought a rabbit back.” He nodded his head behind you, and you looked back. It had already been gutted, cleaned, and cooked. You stood in disbelief for a second.

“Oh… where is she?”

“On the roof,”

You grabbed a few pieces of the tender meat and looked up to where she was gnawing on some bones. You couldn’t help but smile and shake your head at her.

“Your bag, the one you dropped by the lake. Anything important?”

“It was just water. And some clothes. Everything else is damaged from the water.” You said, going back for a few more pieces. After yesterday, you were starving.

“Good, didn’ wanna walk all the way back there,”

You nodded and took one last piece before disappearing back into the treehouse. It seemed Daryl had grabbed everything. Except on the table were a few of your personal belongings. Your gun, leg holster, ring, and a photograph of you and Liam together. Your still-wet shoes were on the floor next to the table.

Taking a deep breath, you took a photograph from the frame and folded it, then put it in your back pocket. Your attached the hostler and then looked at the ring. It wasn’t anything crazy, but it was a beautiful ring. Still, it ached your heart, and you couldn’t bring yourself to put it on. It didn’t feel right. Liam was gone. You weren’t. And you needed to think of a future where you survived, not memories that would hold you back.

After pressing a quick kiss to the ring, you laid it gently along the small fireplace’s mantle. It was newly built. It wasn’t there before. But now, the ring would sit in the treehouse where it belonged. Where it could stay forever with Liam’s spirit and memory.

“You aight?”

You looked back at Daryl and nodded, “Yeah. Let’s go.”

“It’s been quiet this morning. I think the walkers followed the storm south. The cat doesn’t seem worried.”

You nodded and walked past him. Everything you needed to bring was already on the ground. “I’ve been here almost a year. Kept me safe. It feels so final.” You said.

“We goin’ someplace better. Don’ got the time to be all wishy-washy about it.”

You chuckled at his bluntness and walked towards the rope. “Yeah, I know.”

***

Carrying all your supplies was much more difficult, and the two miles seemed to stretch forever. Each of you had bags on your shoulders and were carrying boxes of supplies. But finally, the yellow house came into view, and you sighed with relief.

You didn’t need to say anything, your reaction alone told Daryl you were there, and he felt relief too. When you approached the garage door, you looked through the glass window and banged a few times before opening it.

“I’ve picked through the house a few times. There’s really nothing to take. Anything worth taking I already did,” You said, walking over to the boxes of old Christmas decorations and donation boxes that never made it out.

Underneath a Christmas tree box were the keys to the white Jeep Wrangler, and you unlocked the car quickly. It only took another minute to get it loaded up.

“We lost the soft top a while back, left it at a storage unit in Atlanta, if I’m being honest.” You said. Suddenly your eyes widened, “Hold on, I gotta get something from the house.”

“I’ll come with ya,” Daryl said.

You glanced towards Tora, who happily sniffed all the boxes and other crap around the garage. “I’ll only be a second; watch her.”

You disappeared into the house, banging on a few walls to ensure no dead ones were around. You and Liam had locked the house up pretty tight. Just as suspected, there was nothing. And you quickly grabbed what you were looking for. On your way back, you passed another few boxes of donations and paused.

In the garage, Daryl was getting antsy. He checked the supplies and then rechecked them. He wanted to get on the road and get back to his people. He wanted to know if Rick, Glenn, and Maggie had made it. He didn’t wanna wait any longer.

Just when he was about to go look for you, you walked through the door carrying a bag in your arm and a cat carrier in the other.

“I don’t trust her not to jump out of the car,” You said, shoving the carrier in his arms. “And I got this. Figured they shouldn’t be wasted, and I didn’t know how many baby supplies you got. It’s just some clothes and a few toys. Nothing else, sadly.”

“Lori will love this,” Daryl said quietly, setting down the carrier and taking the box from you. “You might be her favorite person after this.”

You laughed as you grabbed Tora, earning a few hisses as you tried to put her in the carrier. It took two tries, but finally, she was sitting rather unhappily and a bit overstuffed. “It’s only for a little while, baby,” You said, putting the carrier in the back seat and strapping it in, all while ignoring the few hisses she gave in displeasure.

“Here,” You said, tossing the keys to Daryl. “This way, your people don’t think I got you hostage or something,”

Daryl only nodded and opened up the garage door, taking a quick look around before climbing it. You were just buckling in when the car roared to life, and he took off.

#daryl x reader #daryl dixon x reader #the walking dead daryl #twd #daryl dixon #daryl x y/n #daryl x you

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thedarknesssings · 7 months

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Prompt 17: One Could Hope

Prompt 17: Free Write - FFXIV Write 2023 Characters: Lord Armand de Courcelle, mentions of the children.

Morning was the only quiet time the father of a house of ten children knew. Armand took advantage of this fact. Dawn crept in and a servant quietly snuck into his room to drag the heavy drapes open. Sunlight spilled across his bed, the gentle light pulling him from his reveries and into the waking world once more.

A groan slid from his lips as he turned over onto his back. An arm drifted across his pillow while the sheets twisted around his hips. After nearly seventy years of waking, it wasn’t getting any easier. His bones ached in the morning when before it had only been his left leg and arm, where the injuries from the war had been severe enough to send him home for good. Back into the arms of his overjoyed wife expecting their second.

In hindsight he was grateful now that life had seen fit to send him home. His father died fighting the dragons and left him inheriting young, but not before he had arranged his marriage to a girl from House Dzamael. Fortune smiled upon him to bless him with a wife he’d come to love very much. She’d gifted him with ten fine children and given her life bringing the last one into the world. Armand was content he could spend the last years of her life at her side, raising their brood.

A throat cleared nearby. “My Lord.” The servant intoned. Armand briefly had to wonder if they trained to sound that way. “Shall I ring for breakfast to be brought here today?”

“No,” He rolled his head to peer into the light, eyes squinting. The silhouette of the servant was all he could make out of them. “In the study, please. And draw me a bath first.”

Armand closed his eyes and listened as the servant left, their steps soft and the door eased closed. If he thought he could get away with lying in bed all day, he may have tried that today. His feet found the floor and his hands found his hair, raking through the long loose locks. Black as the night and now salted liberally with grey and white strands.

He had aged well, or so he thought. The few lines on his face were happy ones, crows feet at the corners of his eyes and the gentle curves to either side of his lips marking a man with plenty of reason to smile over the years. A few worry lines creased his brow but they weren’t as deep as the others. His scars had faded to pale lines in his flesh, jagged and raised though the ones on his leg were. Eighteen years later and the scar on his heart had also faded. He had told his children last night that he was considering finding a companion of his own.

Their responses had been supportive. A brief huff of laughter sounded at the memory. Ulysses had always been a strange child, but the chosen phrasing over the situation had stunned Armand. Having his halls plumbed? The very images that brought to mind stained Armand’s face anew with crimson.

In all his long years, he’d only ever been with Adorinna. They married young, but his military career had kept him away from her and her bed for some time. Like Dauvaunt, Armand had been a late bloomer. The confusion over desire and the focus of it held him hostage from taking action. He found women attractive and knew he could learn to love them as his past had proved, but his fantasies had always revolved around men.

And now he was free to explore those desires. If he could find anyone interested in a near seventy year old, Ishgardian Viscount with as many children as one had fingers. Armand groaned again and shoved himself out of his bed. At least he didn’t suffer from grand delusions on the matter. His children’s trials in love were all the dashing of hopes he needed. Yet he’d given them leave to find him appropriate matches. Maybe looking on his behalf would result in them finding their own desires met.

“Your bath is ready, My Lord.” The servant called from the adjoining room.

“Ah, thank you.” Armand replied, pulling on his house robe.

The morning and all its quiet glory awaited him.

#ffxiv write 2023 #prompt 17 #writers on tumblr #ffxiv writers #elezen #ishgard #House Courcelle

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thetrashbagswasteland · 6 months

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Get to know your fanfic writer!

Tagged by @teamdilf several days ago woops thank you tumblr WILL NOT give me notifications When did you post your first ever fanfic? I wanna say 2008, it was a beyblade/doctor who crossover and about what you'd expect from a 12 year old 😂

First Character(s) you wrote? Kai from the original Beyblade series', as far as I can remember.

Main Character(s) you’re currently writing? Castis Vakarian, Avitus Rix and Macen Barro. Also maybe my AU femShep (Mass Effect)

Character(s) you haven’t written about before but plan to write about soon? Astarion (BG3) because alas I am not immune to the appeal of a shitty little vampire twink nor to the brainworms that game seems to give everyone who plays it

Fandom(s) you’re currently writing? Mass Effect (Trilogy and Andromeda)

Platonic pairing(s) you’re currently writing? Saren Arterius & Avitus Rix Sara Ryder & Avitus Rix

Romantic pairing(s) you’re currently writing? Avitus Rix/Castis Vakarian Macen Barro/Avitus Rix Vetra Nyx/Sara Ryder

Your top AO3 tags? Angst, Pre-Canon, Established Relationship and Hurt/Comfort

Current platform you use for posting? AO3 all the way thanks, that's my bestie

Snippet of the WIP you are currently working on? Here's some Tolerance Tested - Chapter 9: Muddied Waters; in which Macen has some awful realisations and far more truth than he ever wanted

Macen remained quiet, finding it hard to breathe if he were quite honest - here, in the quiet of the pre-dawn, a million kilometres and more than a decade away from the horror, he was still scared to hear the culmination of the tale. But Avi carried on regardless, desperate to get to the end of it, he thought. “Caught them in night-shift, just a couple of kids on duty. I ordered them to open fire and… when they refused, I shot them.” This time, he contemplated the bottle in his hands before sipping it once more. By all rights he shouldn’t be able to speak clearly at all at this point and yet here they were. “Two more for my conscience, for what they were worth. Then I trained the main gun on the outpost’s oxygen converters. Didn’t take much- two shots’d have done it, but I went with four, made damned sure it was a crater- made sure there was no more Dregir.” His mind supplied, uselessly, intrusively, platitudes about how little those people would have suffered; igniting their oxygen supply would have meant they’d have died from rapid decompression at worst and simply burned away in a fireball at best. Either way would have been ruthlessly efficient and mostly painless - likely dead before they knew what had hit them. It did plenty to explain the little moniker he’d heard though. The Reaper of Dregir. Horrific as it was, it wasn’t surprising- well, no, what was surprising was that the hierarchy hadn’t covered it all up. “You didn’t have a choice, baby.” Macen murmured, not daring to reach out again with physical comfort he was almost certain would serve only to put him on edge. “They must have seen that- you couldn’t have done anything different without the fallout being made your fault.” “Maybe.” Tension-cord tight, his voice nearly broke with the word, and then Avi shook his head. “Didn’t matter. One thousand and ten casualties, someone had’ta pay. I did my duty and trusted that they’d stand by me- what’s twenty two years of loyalty worth, huh? Turns out, shit-fucking-all.” Their eyes met and he couldn’t help but see resentment there - maybe not aimed at him directly but certainly at the ideals he chided Avi to go along with. “They threw me in a cell under Eldis; kept the court case small, blessedly, just some good ol’ silver barking questions and getting psychiatrists to prod at me, but it was still hell. Promoted beyond my capabilities and without sufficient consideration to my limitations - that’s what they decided in the end, and that fair enough, they’d let the victims families have my life for it.” Perhaps his surprise at that was too blatant, his instant, roiling disgust that they’d blamed it all on him too loud, given how Avi chuckled - dry and humourless. “Firing squad, Mace, that’s how they said they’d do it. One of the guards complained that t’wasn’t a hangin’; apparently the hanged dance for over a minute after death, d’you know that? He showed me, too.” Macen clenched his teeth, determined not to let his disgust at that slip out, if only because he suspected it’d come out as nausea instead. “I got the last laugh though. Hours before my big day, Saren turned up with a council-ordered stay of execution an’ demanded to take me away for their investigation.” Hours. Hours had been between Avi and being essentially murdered for the crime of doing the right thing- and with that, Macen knew for certain that he definitely had some calls to make. How could he not, how could he live with that information? But…. It did at least make it far more evident just why Saren had earned his devotion and loyalty; why he’d transferred whatever confidence he’d had in the hierarchy before then straight over to him. “He saved your life, quite literally.” Until that point, he’d assumed he’d meant it in the more figurative way but, no, he had genuinely saved him, hadn’t he?

“Dunno if that was his intention to start with.” His boyfriend shrugged, maybe leaning a little closer, looking a little more regretful instead of simply broken. “But he got everythin’ he needed outta me and hadn’t yet put a round between my eyes, so I started to get spooked. Asked him t’just be up front about it and… he put a gun in my hands- put his gun in my hand. Told me that if I couldn’t live with what I’d done, he’d understand and it’d be a right damned shame I’d managed t’get it off his hip and kill m’self before he had a chance to react but if not, that he thought it’d be a waste of a useful soldier.” His mandibles twitched with some half-lost in-joke. “Dunno why I said yes, in hindsight an’ given the hell he put me through in the name of training, but I did and…” “And here we are now.” This time, Avitus didn’t resist when he took his hand, just nodded and transferred the bottle to his other hand so he could keep going, as if he still had more demons to chase away with drink alone. Over a thousand- he had to have a fair few. And… that had been in one go. How many more ghosts had he gained since then? How much blood was on his hands that he blamed himself for? How had he lived with that?

tagging @spaceouttatime, @callista-curations, @ferowyn and anyone else who fancies doing this and hasn't yet!

#ask meme

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thesconesyard · 9 months

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Yeehaw!! McCoy flowed so easy, even if it is from Scotty.

When the Cactus Blooms

6. Wide Open Spaces

Scotty looked out at the night and couldn’t help the small sigh of awe that escaped him. The sky was velvety dark and the stars were shining and twinkling. The moon was just beginning to break the horizon.

“Beautiful night.”

“Aye,” Scotty agreed. He turned around to face the fire and McCoy sitting across from him.

They had left the ranch midafternoon to ride up the creek that flowed through the north pasture and into the river. Its waters had lowered to nearly half its usual depth, though there had been no dry spell yet. Jim was worried something had blocked it and so Scotty and McCoy were riding to see.

Uhura and Christine had sent them plenty of good food, easy to cook in the open. Scotty looked over again as McCoy let out a laugh.

“What?” he asked.

McCoy was pulling something out of the bag. One of the horses snorted over where they had tied them up to graze for the evening. They’d bring them back and hook them to the wagon when they went to sleep.

“Chris,” McCoy said with a shake of his head. “Where on earth did she…? Must’ve got’em from Geoff when I wasn’t looking.”

“What is it Doc?” Scotty couldn’t see it in the firelight. McCoy was stretching over to hand him something.

“Pair of peaches,” McCoy said happily. “That gal is a peach,” he chuckled. “She knows how I miss them.”

“Oh,” Scotty said, his chest tightening for a moment. “Thank you.” He held the fruit gently before finally taking a bite. “Oh!” he said in surprise with his mouth full.

“Yeah, they’re good alright,” McCoy said, holding his own.

“No, no, I just got juice all over me,” Scotty laughed. He wiped a hand down his front. “Ye coulda warned me Doc.”

McCoy grinned at him. “Now I’m gonna have to think of something to get her,” he said, looking thoughtful.

Scotty felt his hand shaking just the tiniest bit as he looked at McCoy again. He swallowed then spoke.

“Ye pair are close.”

“Known each other a long time,” McCoy nodded. “Came out here together you know.”

“What brought ye two?” Scotty looked at him curiously.

McCoy took the last bite of his fruit, then turned and threw the pit away. He gave his mouth a quick wipe with the back of his hand, and got to his feet. Scotty blinked in surprise.

“I-I didn’t—” he stammered.

“Nah,” McCoy waved a hand at him, as he dug into one of his saddlebags. “Need a little of this if we’re gonna get into that.” He came back to the fire and sat down holding a bottle.

“Come on,” he said, leaning forward, “where’s your cup?”

Scotty looked around himself in surprise, but found his cup and held it out. McCoy poured a full measure of an amber liquid, before pouring one for himself. Scotty nodded thanks.

He heard McCoy take a deep breath.

“I was married,” he said. “Before I came out here.”

“Oh.” Scotty was watching now. He hadn’t known that. “Was?” he asked.

“Yep.” McCoy’s tone changed. “Thought everything was good. The way it was supposed to be. Just finished my training to be a doctor; was starting to establish my own practice. Jocelyn Darnell was the prettiest thing around. Thought I had it made.”

McCoy stopped and took a drink from his cup. Scotty remembered he was holding his and took a drink too.

“I thought wrong,” McCoy said in a dark voice. “My father got sick. Real sick. Met Chris then. She was a nurse and came in to help take care of him.” McCoy’s voice got quiet. “Did everything we could but we couldn’t save him.”

He tossed back the rest of his drink and filled his cup again. He held the bottle towards Scotty, but he waved it off.

“Jocelyn got jealous. Thought there was something between Chris and me, no matter how many times I told her there wasn’t. Chris was engaged to a fella named Roger. Good man.”

“What happened?” Scotty asked after McCoy had been silent, looking in his cup.

“She divorced me.” McCoy shrugged. “Took off with a friend of mine. Roger was in a train accident and died. Chris and me, all we had left was each other. So we decided to pack up and find somewhere new together.”

“Why didn’t ye set up a new practice? When ye got here?”

“I tried for a bit, before you came. Worked with Dr. M’Benga in town, but never could get past doubting myself. I couldn’t save my own father, how could I save others?”

“Oh Doc…”

McCoy shook his head. “I like this. Being outside, working hard.” He looked up at the sky and the stars spread above them. “It’s good and we’re happy.”

Scotty sipped his drink. It was a good whisky and he wondered where McCoy had got it. ‘They’d had nothing left but each other; they were happy.’ The phrase repeated itself in his mind, eating at him. His heart began to pound, but he couldn’t stop his mouth.

“So… ye two… are ye- are ye together?” His tongue was thick getting the question out.

McCoy frowned gently.

“Me and Chris?” He laughed. “She’s my best friend and I love her to the ends of the earth. She’s the sister I never got to have. She still misses Roger and no one’ll ever replace him in her heart.”

Scotty breathed a silent sigh of relief.

“Besides,” McCoy continued, “there’s…there’s someone else I’ve got my eye on.”

“Oh.” Scotty’s chest tightened again. Deep down he knew it’d been too much to hope for. “Someone in town?”

“No. Someone a whole lot closer than that.” McCoy winked at him. “Think I’m gonna turn in,” he said quickly, getting to his feet.

“Right,” Scotty said flatly, as his heart began to race and his face warmed. Maybe he did still have that chance…

#yeehawgust #day 6 wide open spaces #star trek #Montgomery Scott #Leonard McCoy #McCoy talks his past #McCoy 🤝 Chapel: bffs #Scotty has a chance?#wink wink McCoy #when the cactus blooms

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intersexdabi · 8 months

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thinking of an a civilian au where afo never gets touya and instead he's sent to a hospital. (this might actually be connected to the "jin eventually becomes a living assistant au but idk yet) and after a long time of healing, he finally begins getting his life back together at 16 (or you could change things around to make him somewhat older, depending on how you want things to go)

regardless, as well-off as the todorokis are, there's only so much they can do for touya. and that includes the ramifications of having to remain still for so long. sure, they have people with quirks who can help the muscles from atrophying so much and the like, but ultimately recovery will still be a long road.

a long road that the family insists would be better done at home. and by "family" i mean "endeavor."

he does honestly believe that this is to touya's benefit--he's been at the hospital now for a couple of years, surely he'd rather he finish recovering in the privacy and comfort of his own home. endeavor has plenty of money to hire a nurse, who is also more than happy to accompany him to physical therapy so he can build up his strength and get back to lifting, walking, etc.

endeavor does feel guilty. he made himself sparse (see: nonexistent) at the hospital. he did go there at first, but touya was put under to spare him the worst of the pain as he healed. the doctor kept saying brittle words like "infection" and "quarantine" and "coma" and bore a fragile expression when endeavor asked about the chance of death, never outright answering the question and instead insisting that they would do everything they could.

it's a miracle that touya survived. it was months, a year, maybe even longer before touya was allowed physical visits, not that he was much for talking. by then enji had stopped coming to the hospital, unable to bear the weight of his own guilt, sometimes, fleetingly, thinking that it would have been better if touya had died, before catching himself in a dreadful, cold shock.

so, yes, he thought that getting touya home as soon as he was out of danger was the better choice. but he quickly questions his decision when touya's mood swings wildly. combative, dismissive, angry, loud, silent. even though his body had made significant process, skin grafts now covering the flesh that had remained exposed for so long, his heart and mind are still raw.

and as it turns out, however, being a single parent is difficult. with rei's hospital stay longer than touya's, enji is the mercy of the company he hired. touya is still far too weak to be by himself. he tires too fast and he can only stand and walk for a few minutes at a time.

it was inevitable that, at some point, enji alone would be the only person available to help touya.

but touya had been angrier than ever, hissing and nearly spitting anytime enji came within earshot, a string of curses or wishes for enji's death. he's not sure what set touya off, never would have guessed it's because touya just recently realized that enji was still up to his old tricks, still training shouto, never sparing his eldest for a visit. he'd laid in that hospital for months on end and enji couldn't give less of a fuck

that's not something touya can put into words. there's red bordering his vision and the words in his mouth are pure acid.

for the first time since touya's return, they fight. enji is exasperated and never had the patience to be a father, and touya is all raw and rage.

in a fit of his own fury, enji decides he can't handle the shouting match anymore, but touya's voice follows him, taunting at first then threatening. and enji coldly concludes that touya is in need of some fresh air and forcibly grabbing and pushing the wheelchair until they are outside, parking it close to the door and leaving touya there, practically screaming, threatening, demanding. but enji has officially lost his patience and shuts the door, thankful for the noise to be muffled.

he figures once touya calms down and is ready to be reasonable and respectful then they can return to being civilized inside the home. but for now, he'll let him blow off his steam outside by himself, as if he were a child who needed to burn off some extra energy.

endeavor underestimates his own limits, however, when he wakes up from an unexpected nap. it takes him a moment to realize that he's been woken up by thunder, rain pelting the outside and lightning flashing the room. despite his grogginess, it takes only a few seconds before he remembers.

touya.

he jumps up, barreling towards the back door and flinging open the door. he almost expects nothing but an empty chair. but touya is still not strong enough to leave by himself, and there he sits, face tilted downwards, soaked by rainwater.

for maybe the first time in his life, endeavor is without words. he wheels touya back in, who says nothing, does nothing. he finds clothes and towels. touya takes them, silent, but does not yield when enji tries to assist. touya barely registers his father is there at all. there is nothing that can be said, not now, maybe not ever. when natsuo and fuyumi get home, he doesn't admit his fault (figuring touya will do that for him) but they initially wonder at why the chair itself is wet and set about getting their brother something to eat while they chatter to him about their day.

#i'll talk more about this tomorrow #and that other au with twice #dabi #touya todoroki #enji todoroki #i should just write this at this point but you know me

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distort-opia · 2 years

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first of all I wanted to say that I really like reading your takes on batman and I have throughoutly enjoyed reading your fics. i wanted to ask what you think would make bruce permanently retire from his batman persona and his crimefighting? or do you think it’s more of a ‚my retirement is death‘ situation?

Thank you for the ask, and I'm glad you've enjoyed reading my stuff! <3

I do think the most realistic take is 'I'll retire when I'm dead', though Batman stories tend to have various alternate takes on the subject. Most recently, in Batman/Catwoman, Bruce married Selina and had a kid and died peacefully at an old age -- but he still trained Helena and they fought crime as a family. Earth-2 Batman did end up retiring for a while and working in police (once again married to Selina and having a daughter called Helena), but then he still went back to the cape and cowl when provoked, and died in it. The Dark Knight Returns Batman retired too when Joker killed Robin, but Miller’s Bruce famously went back to being Batman when he felt the call again. In Batman Beyond Bruce also retires when he nearly shoots someone and feels that he’s not worthy of the Bat anymore, but seeing as he’s old and alone and latches onto the chance to continue his legacy via Terry McGinnis, I wouldn’t call that a retired Bruce either.

Actually, there’s way more alternate Universes in which Bruce dies in the line of duty and someone else becomes Batman, or Universes in which he kills Joker and goes dark. (Batman Who Laughs is just the most spectacular version of it, not the only one.) And if that’s not telling enough, even the stories that have Bruce retiring don’t have him fully let go of Batman. Going by the stories we’ve had in the past... the only thing to have Bruce more consistently retire the crimefighting is someone directly dying because of him. If he broke the Vow, he might indeed feel unworthy of the cowl, but it’d have to be something quite extreme. After all, plenty of Robins have died, but it’s not stopping Bruce from currently Batmanning. Also, he’s killed people in other Universes, and it didn’t make him give up -- rather, it turned him into a villain or into a much more brutal vigilante. Hell, in King’s run, Thomas Wayne himself tries to traumatize Bruce into giving up being Batman and it doesn’t work.

So... I do think Batman Beyond had the right idea? The first way in which he’d retire for good is if he violated the very foundations of the Bat’s existence. If he was forced into a situation where he became like the man who killed his parents; superstitious and cowardly. This way would either lead to Bruce dying old and alone, or him... well, killing himself in the absence of a purpose. However, then there’s the hypothetical retirement scenario where he does it because he came to terms with his grief over his parents. The Batman persona is fuelled by it, and Bruce has articulated more than once that he’s consciously making the choice not to let go. So, if some extraordinary person/circumstance got him to genuinely confront his grief and his anger, if he managed to deal with his trauma... that might end ‘Batman’, and Bruce might not die unhappy and alone. (So maybe if someone brought his parents back to life and dumped them on his doorstep? Hah. That’d be interesting for Bruce to deal with. Basically how Ra’s threatened to do it in JLA: Tower of Babel, but... better. And conceivably without his parents having Pit madness.)

To be honest, though, I don’t think the current Bruce has any realistic chances of ever letting go. He’s been Batman for too long. He’s had multiple attempts to be happier, to perhaps try to be Bruce Wayne and Batman at the same time, but not only did these fail -- they failed because he self-sabotaged. He’s deeply self-destructive and intentionally fuelling himself with anger and misery, because he can’t see any other version of himself than one who’s Batman, so... myeah. At the end of the day, I’m still going with ‘I’ll retire when I’m dead’.

#in other words Bruce is Sisyphus #his mission is impossible to fulfill by its very nature #so he can't ever stop #asks #batman #bruce wayne #batman meta #bruce wayne meta #suicide mention #my meta

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blowflyfag · 1 month

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Pro Wrestling Illustrated: September 1996

GREAT EXPECTATIONS END HULKAMANIA! TOPPLE THE GIANT! SEIZE THE GOLD

June 6, 1996, was a very important day in WCW history. That’s because it was Diesel’s last day as an employee of the WWF. Here he comes, WCW wrestlers! You had better be prepared for him!

By Dave Rosenbaum

SLOW TRAIN COMING! Watch out WCW, Diesel’s headed right this way, and the former WWF world champion doesn’t plan on making a quiet arrival. He’s blowing his horn and steamrolling down the tracks. Diesel’s presence figures to make WCW a more interesting and colorful federation.

But what does he do next? WCW had a parade for Hulk Hogan’s arrival. Diesel will have to create his own fanfare (and probably a new identity). There are certainly high expectations for the 7’, 356-pound superstar, who left the WWF on bad terms with the fans.

Don’t bother thanking us, Diesel. We’ve broken down your WCW agenda to three main objectives. That way, you’ll always know where you stand.

END HULKAMANIA

During his nearly one-year reign as WWF World champion, Diesel proved himself an able spokesman for the federation. He charmed on TV talk shows, drew huge crowds at personal appearances, and even received some inquiries from movie producers. “Dieselmania” had started to take over the WWF!

Losing the WWF World title to Bret Hart shouldn’t have been such a major setback for Diesel, but it was because he got sidetracked with other things, then entered into contract negotiations with WCW. The fact remains that Diesel could and should be the star of any federation in which he wrestles … including a federation that has Hulk Hogan.

But if “Dieselmania” is going to prevail, “Hulamania’s” going to have to die, and Diesel will have to kill it. In fact, we think Diesel has almost no choice but to ho right after the “Hulkster,” WCW Promoters certainly wouldn’t mind making this match, even if they might be reluctant to trumpet its relevance.

[It won’t be long before we see Diesel’’s big boot to the face (left) matched against Hogan’s (right). To establish himself as a major player in WCW, Diesel must find a way to beat the Hulkster.”]

A mere victory wouldn’t do. Diesel must score decisive victories over Hogan and end any doubt that he is today’s superhuman superstar. But style will be as important as substance. Diesel must defeat Hogan the right way–within the bounds of the rules. He doesn’t want to cripple Hogan. He merely wants to beat him and establish a relationship with WCW fans, something he never died when he wrestled in WCW before as Oz and Vinnie Vegas.

And after he does that, he can go on to step two.

TOPPLE THE GIANT

Defeating Hogan, no matter the means, would alienate Diesel from a large group of WCW fans. These Hogan supporters view any Hogan opponent as the enemy and would have a hard time siding with the “Hulkster’s conqueror. Diesel would need a way to get them on his side and could do so by felling The Giant.

Even though his choke-slam was neutralized by Hogan, The Giant is still the most feared wrestler in WCW, because he’s the meanest and biggest. But let’s face it: Who ever heard of a story with two giants? There’s one giant in Jack And The Beanstalk and one giant in Gulliver’s Travels. There’s room for only one dominant big man.

Is it The Giant or is it Diesel?

Well, a decisive victory over Hogan would give Diesel something The Giant never had. Still, don’t think for a second that The Giant wouldn’t look at Diesel’s presence as a personal threat to him. He’d realize his turf was being threatened and probably go after Diesel before Diesel went after him.

[The Giant might not be able to bodyslam Diesel as easily as he has slammed Hogan (left), and Diesel definitely won’t be able to throw The Giant around the way he has thrown Shawn Michaels around (right). You just know these two behemoths will clash at some point.]

The battle of the giants would be a titanic confrontation with plenty of choke-slams and “jackknife” power bombs. The winner would lay claim as the greatest big man in all of wrestling. The loser might have to leave.

If Diesel’s experience and talent prevailed, as we think it could, he could go on to the final step of his WCW agenda …

SEIZE THE GOLD

A wrestler can boast all he wants about how great he is, but there’s really only one way he can prove it: by winning a world title belt. Just ask Shawn Michaels, Diesel’s former friend and tag team partner.

“You know, now that I’m WWF champion, I realize how ridiculous it was for me to think I was like, an uncrowned champion,” Michaels said. “If you’re the best, you’ve got the belt. If you don’t have the belt, you’re not the best. You can talk and talk and talk, but there’s only one solid piece of evidence: that gold belt.”

If you have it, you can walk the walk. If you don’t have it, you can only talk the talk. And talk is meaningless.

[Diesel was nothing more than a mid-carder in WCW when he competed as Vinnie Vegas in 1992-93. This time around, he’ll likely be deemed a top contender to the World title as soon as he gets there.]

What would Hulk Hogan have been without all those WWF World titles? Just another boastful big man with a big mouth.

Whether the WCW World champion is Ric Flair, as it was at press time, or Sting, Randy Savage, Hogan, or Lex Luger, Diesel would have to finish his WCW mission by seizing the big belt. Any of those opponents would pose a severe test to “Big Daddy Cool,” who is somewhat limited scientifically and relies heavily on his size and strength. A world title victory over the legendary Flair would certainly place Diesel among the all-time greats.

It would also get the fans squarely on Diesel’s side and start a new era of “Dieselmania.”

#big show #big daddy cool diesel #diesel #kevin nash #wcw #world championship wrestling #PWI #pro wrestling illustrated #magazine scan #magazine transcript

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beautifulsnake2162020 · 10 months

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The Vitulation Cycle: An Arthuriana fanfiction (King Arthur x OC and Arthur x Guinevere x Lancelot) CHAPTER 14: MORDRED

Disclaimer: This is a work of fanfiction I do not make any money from this. Cultist Simulator elements belongs to the Weather Factory, House of the Dragon/Game of thrones elements belongs to George RR Martin and Arthuriana while generally regarded as under the public domain, it comes from the culture of Britain.

Chapter 14 - Mordred

"We're watching you." Sir Lancelot tells you before he goes back to her majesty's side. Only for Sir Gwaine to make a gesture with his two fingers gesturing from his eyes to you. Understandable really since Ayrmida had just recovered from something that triggered her past trauma. You were all gathered to have a picnic in the Castle grounds, or more specifically in the gardens since it was the best place where the sun's warmth was. While you were given a chance to spend some time with Ayrmida alone, you could still feel everyone's eyes on you, especially Sir Ector her grandfather.

It was true that you admired and held some affection for the youngest member of the court. But you know it wasn't love. Perhaps it's because she too was still trying to find herself. For all you could remember all you really wanted was to belong to someplace as yourself. You didn't feel at home with the Christian orphanage that raised you until you were able to find work in your studies in botany. You initially came to Camelot at eleven to learn under their scholars more about the sciences. Merlin was a strict teacher and seems to dislike you for a reason you couldn't understand. You were thankful that unofficially, King Arthur had in nearly everything but name became your father. You would sometimes feel guilty when sometimes you eavesdropped the various arguments they would have about you.

"You are playing a very dangerous game Arthur!"

"Merlin, I don't care what future you have foreseen. He's just a boy and you are already treating him over something he hasn't done."

"Yet. Done yet Arthur. You choosing to ignore my warnings will only break your heart. Your love for him will be wasted."

"Tell me Merlin, have you become so obsessed with what the future may become that you forget to live in the present? You don't know if he will make those choices! I will take guidance from what you have seen but I will not stop loving Mordred as my own child."

It was then that you became interested in the martial ways. You didn't know why Merlin treated you this way, but you were going to prove him wrong that King Arthur was wasting his love on you.

And so like Ayrmida you sought to make yourself one of the best people to ever serve Camelot. You began paying attention to the politics, the martial ways, and the resources Camelot has to offer. You weren't at all finished with your journey, but now you understand some of the decisions he, Queen Guinevere, and some of the other knights and courtiers were doing. You didn't know enough to make your own opinions on what should be done yet, but you feel you were on your way there.

"Mordred? What is King Arthur like?" Ayrmida asks bringing your attention back to your own present. Seated beside her on a picnic blanket eating on cheese, bread, mutton and boiled eggs.

"Where do I begin?"

"From whatever you have thought of first." You chuckle at her response at your rhetorical question.

"This may seem strange but King Arthur is much like a father to me."

"Oh?"

"My parents were travelers who died on their way to a pilgrimage. And so the Christian convent had raised me when I was the only one who survived the plague. I don't recall what they did before they took me on that pilgrimage trip. It was when I went to Camelot for further studies than the convent could offer that I found a father figure in him. Back then I too was the young blood in court - not the youngest since there were plenty of boys my age who wanted to enter into Camelot's martial training. But probably the only one who was here for scholarly studies rather than just martial training. Arthur had found me in my studies and had began volunteering to personally help with things that just escaped my understanding. The funny thing was that I didn't know he was the King. I just assumed he was another courtier or a scholar of Camelot. It was only when I attended my first Court session and he made his appearance that I discovered that he was the King himself. And afterward we just became closer."

"I see." She says before taking a bite of her buttered bread.

"I'm just nervous of something embarrassing happening if or when he chooses to talk to me in open court."

"He wouldn't intentionally do that. I imagine that any embarrassment is most likely to come from you."

"Mordred!" She exclaims in disbelief but you could tell that she found the humor in your joke.

"It's true. On your first court session with Queen Guinevere I was wondering if your nervousness would make you faint on front of everyone."

"Well it was my first time in any court! You have years of experience."

"I'm only three years older than you."

"You've been here far longer than I have."

"And what is so different from all the court sessions you've attended with Queen Guinevere presiding? This time you'll be meeting with Camelot's King." Then you see her face change. You couldn't tell if it was better or worse but there was definitely a change in her.

"There will be many things different."

"I highly doubt that."

"I hope for that too." She says before she takes a quick glance at all the knights who were watching the two of you. As soon as they see her looking at them they quickly turn away and pretend to have been doing something else. You couldn't help but roll your eyes at them. They weren't trying to be discreet and their gazes at you and Ayrmida were obvious in your peripheral vision. You knew that many of them thought that you were infatuated with her and feared that you might take this chance to seduce her. This wasn't the case though you did hold affection for her.

And to think these were the same people whose ranks you will be joining once you became a knight.

"May I ask a promise from you Mordred?" She asks as she brings herself closer to you. Her expression serious.

"What kind of promise?"

"Will you promise that no matter what happens could we still be friends?" You couldn't help but smile.

"Of course I will. But why make me promise over something so obvious?"

"Because I fear you wouldn't want to be my friend anymore after something happens. You have been a good friend to me Mordred, and I wouldn't want to lose our friendship." This touched you, it's been awhile since anyone your age wanted to be with you. The other boys who had started their martial training before you did were envious of your relationship with the King and didn't want to have anything to do with you. And girls around your age just keep looking at you in a strange light. Probably this infatuation that everyone keeps saying you have for Ayrmida.

You make sure to meet her eyes as you make her a promise she requested.

"I, Mordred, promise to still be your friend no matter what happens." She smiles back with some relief.

"And I, Ayrmida promise the same. Thank you for this Mordred."

"Of course, I'll still be your friend even when I become a Knight of the round table." She chuckles at this.

"I have no doubt you will."

She leaves you with a smile, and you couldn't help but feel she is keeping something from you. Some mysterious secret that she is keeping to herself. It was fine, even you have your own secrets.

You weren't going to deny to yourself that you wanted to be Arthur's heir. It wasn't because of the power it would give you but to also show that anyone who was devoted and hard working enough would also be good enough to be one of Camelot's leaders. It was why you strived to familiarize yourself with the different factions in court and what it would mean for the interest of Camelot. And your work seems to be paying off since you have the favor of many significant factions in court. Including Queen Guinevere and King Arthur before he had left to embark on his second attempt in fulfilling the Grail quest.

You couldn't wait for him to return. He might tease you for finally making a friend who is closer in your age than just being a perpetual student or squire to everyone his age.

And it turns out to your delight he came sooner than you had expected.

He arrived late at night with his brother Sir Kay and plenty of the other knights who had gone to take care of the problem of the witch hunters. You see them detain a few prisoners whom you recognize were some of the witch hunters that had attacked Camelot recently. You then quickly run to try to find Ayrmida so she may have her first glimpse of who Camelot's king was.

"Queen Guinevere, Sir Lancelot, Sir Gwaine, Sir Percival, have any of you seen Ayrmida? King Arthur has arrived with Sir Kay and the knights who went to take care of the witch hunters. I wanted to show her who he is before he holds court tomorrow."

"Oh that's wonderful Mordred!" Queen Guinevere says as she begins giving orders to some of her ladies to make sure the King's chambers were tidy and ready for his return.

"Does anyone know where Ayrmida is?"

"She's with Sir Ector having a dinner in town. You'll probably meet them tomorrow." Sir Lancelot tells you as he stands to give out his own orders and make his own preparations for King Arthur's return.

"Hmph that's if Arthur is ready to have court tomorrow. A banquet sure, but I think he will have at least one day of rest before returning to his duties."

"Want a bet Sir Percival?" Gwaine says with a grin. Since you won't be meeting either of the persons you were looking for, you take your dinner and retreat to your room to put yourself to sleep.

The next day, much to Sir Percival's dismay, King Arthur did hold court although it was much later than normal, though given that he, Sir Kay and the other knights who had ventured out had only arrived late last night.

When he entered to take his seat at the round table there was much applause and excitement. He had his beard trimmed to his preferred length of being close to his chin and his beard hairs on the shorter end. Enough to show his beard but short enough to show the lower half of his face.

The court then settles down as Queen Guinevere takes her place beside him and everyone is seated.

"It's good to finally be back."

Another round of applause was given.

"I have missed you all and will now hear and discuss matters that are most urgent. I'll do this before I reveal whether my quest for the Grail has been a success or not."

As court went on your mind wondered where Ayrmida was. Your eyes finally see her behind her uncle at his chair at the round table and some distance behind her was a couple of hooded figures who seemed to blend in with the background. Who are they?

"Mordred." You hear him call your name and you step forward and present yourself on front of him.

"Based on reports of your progress it won't be long before you become a knight and part of the brotherhood of the round table. Your last few major tests would be in my presence before I formally knight you." He tells you with a smile and you couldn't help but share in his enthusiasm.

"Really your majesty?"

"Truly, why do you think the other knights tend to tease you a little bit more recently." You hear them laugh with some like Sir Gaheris and Sir Bedivere giving you encouraging looks.

This is it.

You will soon be knighted.

All you need to do is to past a few more tests and you would finally be a part of the highest brotherhood in Camelot.

"Tha-Thank you your majesty." You bow before him before going back to your place on the sides, although it wasn't lost on you that you did see encouraging smiles and gestures from the other knights of the round table.

A few more petitions and issues were discussed, but you couldn't hear any of them as your mind was still savoring the news that you were almost a knight.

Finally the petitions were finished and Queen Guinevere played her card.

"We may be done with the petitions but there is a new face in court that I want you to meet."

"Oh?" He asks in excitement. You almost forgot how he loves entertaining new members of his court.

"She's a new lady of mine. Lady Ayrmida?" Ayrmida makes her way on front of King Arthur. You see her more calm than she was her first time.

But even King Arthur could sense just a little bit of nervousness coming from her.

"Ayrmida? How are you?" He asks in a very gentle and soft tone. A tone you would often hear whenever he wanted to calm someone down.

"A little nervous since everyone is looking at me."

"Oh don't worry, everyone is also looking at me." That did the trick and this causes her to laugh and her nervousness disappeared.

"There we go, feeling better?" Arthur gives a little chuckle with a gentle smile and a glint of affection in his eyes.

"Yes, thank you for that."

"Well since you're feeling better. I would like to know what you've thought of Camelot and my court so far? Are my knights fooling around behind my back?" You couldn't help but laugh along with some of the other knights in the table.

"Well it depends on your definition of fooling around. They tease and joke a lot, but when I was worried and traumatized upon hearing what the witch hunters were doing, they were there for me when I needed them the most." A resounding sound of awe surrounded the room.

"Even Mordred has been a great friend to me. And I think he would make a great knight of your round table." You couldn't help but blush a little bit at being specifically mentioned by her to your King and father figure.

"And how have you been adjusting being one of Queen Guinevere's ladies?"

"They were mostly good to me. Queen Guinevere herself had personally taken me under her wing."

"And how has she been with you?" He asks his wife speculatively.

"She's been a fine young lady. I'm extremely happy to have her as one of my ladies. She's almost like a daughter to me." He smiles at that, there was something mischievous about it that you couldn't explain why.

"Is this true Sir Lancelot? Or is there a hidden conspiracy between them?" He asks jokingly and both the Queen and Ayrmida laughs.

"It is true, my liege, and may I also add that she's been a hidden gem and a devoted student to the martial ways as her teacher. Even though she sometimes could be too impatient to move to the next level." Sir Lancelot says with affection and the King just chuckles at this. Almost as if to say that he knows what he's talking about.

"Now have you been good to your uncle Sir Kay and to your grandfather Sir Ector?" She gives him a sheepish look.

"I may have snuck out a few times from them but I make sure to take great care and I never go too far from the castle."

"Oh don't get me started." Sir Ector murmurs.

"In my defense, these trips were very insightful in showing me Camelot's strengths and weaknesses. And in the back of my mind I always knew my uncle have assigned some of the knights who weren't on duty to make sure nothing horrible happened to me."

"And what are Camelot's strengths and weaknesses?"

"To summarize because I sense some of your courtiers would want to be dismissed already - Camelot is strong in accepting all cultures and backgrounds of all who come and live here. But it's weakness is that not many of these cultures have a say in court beyond the local level. I will admit I am still learning. But your court is biased towards some of the dominant cultures here. And it would be good to have a few courtiers from lesser known subcultures that are subjects of Camelot contribute their perspective in your court."

This was rather bold of her. You too have noticed this issue but it is at a periphery to some of the other issues that you were thinking about. Where did she get this bravery from when a few moments ago she might have allowed her nervousness to take her over?

"This of course is not the only issue, but that is the issue that appeared first in my head when you asked."

"Of course, and I appreciate your honesty about your insights. There is always room for improvement and I and my court are also included in that."

"Likewise."

"Members of the round table, how has she been with all of you?"

"You're asking an awful lot of questions for a new face in court my King." Sir Dagonet comments as King Arthur gestures for him to continue on.

"She has been good. We were quite surprised when she was insistent on learning the martial ways but after discovering that she was a promising student, she was quite a sight to behold." Sir Bedivere says in an affectionate yet no nonsense way.

"Yeah."

"Agreed."

"What Sir Bedivere has said."

"She's also not scared to answer back. Quite refreshing." Sir Gwaine adds before smiling at Ayrmida's pointed look at him.

"Generally speaking you like her." King Arthur was met with more nods and affirmative responses.

"And what's the feedback from the ladies?" Those who were allied closely with Queen Guinevere gave the same replies that the knights had on Ayrmida while those who didn't like her and was probably planning to seduce Arthur just shrugged or remained silent.

Sir Dagonet was right, why was the King asking so much questions about her and to her?

"Well I think it's about time we wrap this up." You hear the relieved sighs of some members of the court. Some people cried out questions about his Grail quest but he ignored them and turned his attention back at Ayrmida with a hidden mischief in his smile once again.

"Has this been an insightful and satisfying experience for you?" Ayrmida smiles, nods and takes a breath.

"Yes it has. Thank you so much for this...father."

What?!

Father?!

You hear the surprised sounds of court.

"I'm sorry for the surprise to everyone. But it was part of her wish for her twelfth birthday." Arthur stands up as he goes to Ayrmida's side.

"I would like to formally introduce my eldest daughter, Ayrmida Targaryen Pendragon. Daenara, Daeron, you can reveal yourselves now." The hooded figures close to Ayrmida revealed themselves and you hear more gasps in the room.

The woman, Daenara Targaryen, the King's first wife is not just alive, she is here before all in court. She was definitely ethereally beautiful with her silvery blond hair and vibrant violet eyes. The boy, Daeron, Ayrmida's twin brother, looked a lot like King Arthur but with his mother's violet eyes.

"This is my son Daeron, and this is my first wife Daenara Targaryen. The Grail."

#The Vitulation Cycle #Arthurian #Arthuriana fanfiction #Arthur Pendragon x original female character #Arthur Pendragon x original character #arthur x guenievre x lancelot #Arthur x Guinevere x Lancelot #Arthur x Guinevere #Arthur x Lancelot #Lancelot x Guinevere #Original female character #Mordred #Holy Grail

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luminnara · 3 years

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It’s Been a Long, Long Time | Alpha!Bucky x Omega!reader part one 18+ only

Summary: When HYDRA had their prized asset, the Winter Soldier, they did something no one ever thought was possible: they gave super soldier serum to an omega. With the sole purpose of tending to him during his ruts, she spends decades living in HYDRA facilities, denied her humanity and her life. Now, years later, Bucky Barnes has his mind and his own life back...and the last thing he ever expects is to see a familiar omega again. Bucky/OC, a little angsty but mostly smutty/fluffy/romantic!

Warnings: NSFW, knotting, abo, smut, mild dubcon

Request are OPEN! I would love to write more Bucky stuff!

Also posted on AO3

Part one | Part Two | Part three |

In a world full of massive, snarling, strong alphas, nobody wanted to use something as small and physically weak as an omega to do war. Omegas were better suited for other things, like nurturing, and giving life. The alphas were the ones who fought and maimed and killed and protected and hunted. It wasn’t even until relatively recently that omegas even had many rights in the modern world, and there were still plenty of traditionalists who stuck to the old ideals. Omegas were for breeding and claiming and little more. Though those ideas were fading, there would always be those who believed that there were things omegas couldn’t and shouldn’t do--

And fighting was at the top of that list.

Omegas weren’t built for it. They were sturdy, sure, to help them withstand the ruts of big alphas who couldn’t control themselves, but they were generally small, and, many believed, unable to fend for themselves. Their role, their purpose, was to be claimed and bred by big strong alphas, and that was that. It made sense; after all, someone needed to stay and care for the pups, or else there would be little chance of survival. Throughout most of history, survival wasn’t something that was ever guaranteed, and having a secondary gender that was intended for rearing offspring greatly increased the likelihood that pups would make it to adulthood. Alphas were bigger and stronger, natural leaders, always ready to fight and defend their territory and their pack, and omegas were always there to carry the young.

And that was that. Omegas weren’t meant to be warriors. Their only place on the battlefield was in the medic tent, where they could tend to wounded alphas and betas. It was nearly unheard of in many places for there to be omega soldiers, even infantry.

Until the twentieth century.

The catastrophic proportions of both World Wars brought with them an all hands on deck mentality. In the states, male omegas were being drafted along with the others, newly-invented heat and rut suppressants meaning that they could all work together without the danger of blunders thanks to anyone’s natural cycle. Back home, not only were alpha and beta women suddenly flooding the workforce while the men were overseas, but omegas were joining them. It was unprecedented, and began to change many minds. Maybe omegas were useful for more than incubators. Maybe they could work.

They still weren’t the best choice for hands on, tactical things, though. While there were omegas in the army, they rarely became officers, because who was going to want to listen to them? They weren’t natural born fighters, and they were hardwired to obey alphas. They were better as battle fodder, extras to pad out the numbers. They certainly weren’t anyone’s first choice for special missions or programs.

Well...almost anyone’s.

When HYDRA got their soldier and programmed his brain, they were pleased. The big alpha, James Buchanan Barnes, had survived the super soldier serum, and with his mind wiped and his old life far away from him, he was the perfect assassin. The Winter Soldier was strong, well trained, and easy to control, when given the proper commands. The serum made him practically unkillable, and he had the speed and strength to rival that annoying Captain America.

Unfortunately, the serum also made his ruts much harder to suppress. HYDRA would never permit him to settle down with an omega, of course not...but an omega was the only thing that could ease his rut cycle. Without one, he could spend a week snarling and pining, absolutely useless. With one, he was only out of the field for a few days. Until they could develop better suppressants, their only solution was to give him an omega.

Unfortunately, they weren’t very good at surviving him.

He didn’t like any of them, not really. He never meant to kill them, never really tried, but HYDRA had a habit of starving the poor things before they tossed them into the lion’s den, and they just couldn’t keep up. The soldier used them to alleviate his ruts, always mechanical in his movements, and that was that.

HYDRA didn’t particularly care whether the omegas lived or died, but they did reach a point where it was getting to be a bit ridiculous to catch so many for their soldier. Someone along the way had the bright idea to simply make a stronger omega, one who could withstand their asset’s forcefulness. Giving the serum to an omega was such a ridiculous idea that it just might work, and so they did, and oh, did they get lucky with the omega they chose.

Taking scent samples from several omegas they already had, they presented them to the soldier, allowing him to choose. It was, perhaps, the one time they had ever given him a sense of autonomy over himself and his life. It was the one time he had any freedom, despite the incredibly controlled circumstances.

While strapped down to a familiar chair, he watched the doctors pacing around. He was expecting the familiar agony of having his mind refreshed before a new mission, or maybe even the chill of preparation to go into cryo for a few years until he was needed again. Instead, they presented him with strong-smelling test tubes, each one unmistakably omega. He inhaled their scents with mild interest, none seeming to particularly stand out...until they reached the last.

Amoretta Arancini was a young adult female omega, whose file stated that she was “a kicker.” From the moment she had been captured with the intent to be given to the soldier for a rut, she had clawed and kicked and bitten at anyone and everyone who came into contact with her. She was nearly impossible to deal with, and had the soldier not immediately flared his nostrils and strained against the leather straps that held him down, she would have been finally put down.

Neither she nor Bucky knew it, but he was the only reason she was allowed to live.

The soldier was placed back into his usual cell, and the doctors set about gathering the unruly omega he had chosen. It only made sense that the big, killer alpha would go for a positively savage little monster of an omega, after all.

They administered the serum, unsure whether an omega would even survive it, and by the time their soldier’s next rut came around, she was ready. If she could withstand him, she would have a purpose within HYDRA, and they would be able to stop wasting so much time on finding new omegas for him to burn through.

She was given double the suppressants he was. They didn’t care if she experienced side effects; after all, her only job was to present herself to the soldier at the start of every rut. She didn’t need to be out in the field. If that meant she was groggy and nauseous all the time, who cared? It seemed to work, keeping her heat and fertility at bay while leaving her lucid enough to get the asset through his cycle. The last thing HYDRA needed was an unscheduled heat or pregnancy to deal with.

“The asset is entering his rut. Bring in the omega.” A voice on the intercom said.

An alarm blared, a door slowly screeching open, revealing a cold cell, bare save for the cot against the wall. It was a cell specifically used to hold the soldier during his ruts, and now, it would also hold Amoretta.

She stumbled along, a beta guard with a cattle prod stalking behind her. She was naked, having been allowed to shower before meeting the soldier for the first time, her dark hair still damp as it fell behind her shoulders. It was the cleanest her skin had felt in weeks, so she could only be so angry about it...but she was still angry.

With the threat of electricity behind her, she entered the empty cell. A door slammed shut the moment she stepped in, another sliding open on the other side of the small room.

His scent hit her like a freight train. Motor oil, earth, and cloves...Amoretta’s lip raised in a sneer, partly because she had a feeling she knew what was coming, and partly so that she could try to disguise the way she suddenly began salivating.

Sure enough, just as she suspected, the biggest alpha she had ever seen in her life came stalking in, eyes dark and wild as he searched for the omega he had smelled on his way in. His chest was heaving, sweat prickling his brow, and as his musky rut-scent wove around Amoretta, she swallowed hard. She definitely knew what was coming next.

She had never seen the asset before, but she had heard whispers and seen the other omegas they offered up to him. Before she was injected with the serum, she lived in a cramped cell with several others, and whenever someone was dragged out, it was always a toss up whether they would return or not. When they did return, they were never in good shape.

Now she could see why.

He was predatory in his movements, dark hair falling in his eyes as he stalked toward her. The door slammed shut the moment he was clear of it, and suddenly, Amoretta was trapped with him. She had nowhere to go, nowhere to run, and nowhere to hide from what was quite possibly the most dangerous alpha in the world. If he decided he wanted her, she would have no choice. If he decided he didn’t want her...she would probably die, either by his hand, or HYDRA’s.

She stood as still as she could, watching him with level eyes as he sized her up. A large part of her was surprised that he hadn’t pounced yet, and as a low rumble started up in his chest, she sort of wished he would. The sound went straight to her core, her thighs pressing together of their own free will while she did everything she could to keep from biting her lip.

His nostrils flared as the scent of her arousal mounted and he pressed himself up against her. The soldier was still looking her over, taking a surprisingly long time to examine the omega standing before him, especially considering that he was rutting. He slowly lowered his head, inhaling deeply, brushing his nose over the scent gland on her neck. The rumbling in his chest grew louder, and this time, Amoretta couldn’t help the needy whine that escaped her throat.

The soldier’s hot tongue swept over her gland, his hands gripping her hips. He liked how she smelled. He liked how her flesh tasted.

He wanted more.

He gave her a small shove towards the cot, but as he did so, this little omega glaring up at him actually snapped. She bared her little teeth at him, trying to tell him to slow down, and he responded with a snarl of his own. His tore through his throat, a savage noise, and while it shut her up, it didn’t get rid of the harsh look she was shooting at him.

The asset wasn’t used to anyone, especially the omegas that HYDRA offered up to him, talking back. They usually went belly up for him the moment he stepped into the cell, behaving and presenting themselves for him to take. That’s what he preferred--a willing omega, whom he could enjoy for a few days. He didn’t like...whatever was going on here. Why was this one so upset with him? He wanted this omega to relax, to take him easily. His mind, usually so analytical and tactical, was clouded by his rut, and for a moment, he wasn’t sure what to do.

Amoretta saw the way that he hesitated and she lowered the lip she had raised. So he was capable of listening, after all. That was a good sign that he had some control over himself. Ever so slowly, she relaxed, allowing him to give her a little nudge. It was impressive that he was allowing her to set the pace, especially considering that his musky scent was growing heavier by the second. She definitely hadn’t expected him to be at all interested in what she wanted, and she had been pretty sure that he would just push her down and take what he considered his.

He was almost...gentle, though. Gentler than she thought possible from such a big alpha, at least. She turned and walked toward the cot of her own accord, knowing full well that she didn’t have much choice in how all of this was going to play out. If she was going to be knotted today, then she might as well try to enjoy it, right?

The way his scent made her mouth water gave her the feeling that that wouldn’t be too hard.

The soldier watched her with predatory eyes, following every movement closely. Absentmindedly, a hand drifted down to the loose pants he had been provided, palming his already hard cock through the fabric. He liked this omega. He liked how she looked, how she smelled, how she moved...he couldn’t tear his eyes away from her hips as they swayed slightly, a pleased rumble rising in his throat. He knew what was coming next, and he couldn’t wait. He was aching to be inside of her, to fill her up, to knot her...he wanted to make this omega his, and take care of her, and protect her, and he’d be damned if his captors got in the way of that.

Amoretta climbed onto the cot, her back still turned to the most dangerous alpha on the planet. All too aware that she was completely naked, she crawled onto her hands and knees, dipping down until her chest hit the sheets, her ass up in the air for him. Her primal, omega brain was clamoring for this chance to present before such a big, strong, handsome alpha, and as the cool air tickled at her, she couldn’t help but let out a shrill, needy whine. He was taking too long, and part of her was genuinely worried that he was going to reject her. She was doing everything right, she was submitting, she was in a very vulnerable position...so why wasn’t he already on top of her?

A tiny bead of slick trickled down her thigh as she glanced back to see him standing there with his hand on his bulge. Oh. So that’s what he was doing instead of jumping on her. At least he was turned on by the sight of her...right?

Wait. Why did she care? Why did she care at all what this terrifying alpha thought about her? This terrifying, big, strong...nice smelling...alpha…

If she weren’t on so many suppressants, she was absolutely sure her heat would have started then and there. He was so goddamn handsome, standing there all shirtless, wearing nothing but a pair of sweatpants. Her body wanted him, she wanted him, and if her hormones were allowed to do what they wanted, they would have been absolutely raging.

His nostrils were flared as he took in her scent, his blue eyes wild and his pupils totally blown out as he finally stalked towards her. His movements were brisk, filled with purpose, the bulge in his pants clearly visible even as she craned her neck to look back at him.

“A-alpha,” she whined, warmth rushing through her as she spoke.

The sound of her voice seemed to have an effect on him, a shudder rolling through his body.

“‘Mega,” he growled, voice impossibly low. “My ‘mega. So obedient...good girl.”

His words had her trembling.

All at once, he was shoving his pants down and grabbing for her hips, rubbing the length of his cock over her lips. She keened, more and more slick running down her thighs as he pressed the head inside of her. Even though she was loaded up on suppressants, her body wanted him, her cunt already dripping wet and relaxed enough to accommodate his sizable girth.

Still, the feeling of him stretching her out was absolutely delicious, eliciting a filthy moan that came pouring from her lips as she buried her head against the sheets. He wasn’t gentle by any means, thrusting into her as far as he could go before pulling back out roughly. His pace was harsh and quick, his body immediately caging her in as his chest pressed into her back. He was possessive, trying to hide her from the surveillance cameras he knew were situated in the upper corners of the cell. He didn’t want anyone else to see his omega, especially not while she was beneath him like this. She was his, and his alone.

As rough as he was, he was still paying attention to her. Somewhat, at least. He was well aware by this point that she was tougher than the other omegas HYDRA had given him, and he took the opportunity to sink into her deeper, fuck her better than he normally could have. She could take him, all of him, without complaint. She could withstand his harsh grip on her hair as he pulled her head up and forced her back to arch. She didn’t have any problems accepting what was happening to her, her body responding to him happily.

“Such a good omega,” he grunted, forcing his cock even further into her.

“I-I want your knot,” she whimpered, her voice surprisingly demanding considering the position she was in. “Fill me up, Alpha…”

How could he deny her?

When he had spilled his seed inside of her and his knot had inflated to a nearly painful extent, he wrapped an arm around her, holding her to his chest as he laid them both down on the cot. He was happy with his choice, with his omega. She was everything he wanted, and as his rut continued for the next few days, he had his way with her again, and again, and again, before HYDRA separated them once more.

The soldier snarled and roared, refusing to be taken away, but as soon as they recited his trigger words, he was compliant. Amoretta listened and watched, eyes wide as they led him away. She had only spent one rut with him, but she was already head over heels, her heart aching and pining for her alpha to come back to her.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x oc #alpha bucky #alpha bucky barnes #abo #omegaverse #avengers x reader #avengers x oc #bucky barnes #it's been a long long time

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folklorelise · 3 years

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Physical contacts

Levi Ackerman - (physical contacts ideas from @love-me-a-good-prompt)

—————

Holding hands

At first:

— At the beginning of your relationship, Levi did not like having much contact with you because he was not used to it. You were always the one initiating the hand holding and he would just let you grab his hand. He would not hold your hand back and just let you do the thing. Then, instead of doing nothing, he thought he should be holding your hand back. What he would do was hold your hand really tight, too tight. You would not say a thing because you did not want him to stop holding your hand. But once, in his office, he noticed how your hand was red after holding his hand.

“Am I hurting you?” he asked worried.

After reassuring him that it was fine, he would just grab your hand softly when you were alone.

— First time holding hand with you was when Levi’s friends died, you found him on the roof starting at the starless sky. You sat next to him and gave him your bread from dinner. He did not take it at first but when he heard his stomach gargled, he took your bread and ate it.

“I’m sorry about what happened today, Hange told me. I’m... We are not friends yet, but I am here for you if you want to talk to someone. I noticed how people were... mh... mean to you but I’m here.”

He did not say much but he appreciated your presence. He continued looking at the sky and he suddenly felt a hand on his. He looked at your hand squeezing his and he was excepting you to let it go but you did not.

Now:

— After a few months of dating, Levi would start holding your hand in public too. And if anyone dared to tease you, he would kill that person by glaring at them until they leave. One night, you guys were in bed, holding each other’s hand, laying on your back, he slowly intertwined your fingers together. You looked at him with the biggest smiled you had, and it was at this moment he decided he would do that from now on because he loved seeing you smile like this.

Hugging:

At first:

— Like for the hand holding, he was not used to doing that. The poor boy never received any kind of physical affection since his mother died. The boy was touch starved, like really badly. You remember once, he was talking with Erwin in the stable and you decided to hug him from behind as a surprised - what a bad idea. He just took your arm and flipped you over, thinking someone attacked him. When your back touched the ground and he heard your voice, he was just confused. Erwin helped you getting up and now Levi was just embarrassed and upset with himself.

“What were you thinking!” he screamed.

“I just wanted to hug you.” you whined.

“Are you hurt somewhere?”

“No no! I’m good. I’m going to leave you guys alone, sorry if I interrupted something.”

You were about to leave but Levi just grabbed your hand and continued his conversation with Erwin. Holding your hand was a way for him to say sorry and please stay here with me.

— Your first hug was after he confessed his love to you, you were so happy that he liked you back you just wrapped your arms around his neck. The new Captain did not know to do so he just patted you head and let you hug him. One night, Levi proposed to you to sleep with him because “the bed is more comfortable since I’m a captain now and you wouldn’t have to move at night”. You were each sleeping on your side, worried that you would invade the other’s privacy. You fell asleep rather quickly, but Levi was still wide awake. He turned around and looked at you and in the dark, he allowed himself to smile. He slowly came closer to you and wrapped his arms around your body. He felt himself relaxed instantly after you were in his arms and for the first time since he was a child, he slept for a whole night without interruptions or any kind of nightmares.

Now:

— Levi realised soon enough that he liked back hugs. After that one unfortunate event, he learnt to appreciate them more and more. He would hug you tightly at night because that was the only way for him to have a good night of sleep. He would hug you more often in private but never in public. Sometimes, when he was overworking himself over paperwork, you would just hug him to make him stop working. He would just hug you back, his head on your shoulder and arms around your waist.

“Thank you for taking care of me.” he would whisper to you each time you did that.

Kissing:

At first:

— Levi was your first kiss, and you were his. After a few weeks of dating, he brought you to the roof with dinner already prepared. He was so nervous about messing up the kiss that he barely ate anything.

“Are you ok?” you asked.

“Yes. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“It’s just your plate is still full.”

“Not hungry tonight.” he whispered.

“You should eat, otherwise you would be tired and that’s not good for expeditions right.” You smiled giving him your bread. He opened his mouth and you fed him. Once you finished eating, he got closer to you and you would look at the sky together. The last time the captain did this was with his two friends from his old life. It brought back memories and that would bring his morale down a bit. You would notice how his little smirk disappeared.

“Are you feeling okay?” He didn’t answer and would just look at you, so you hugged him. After a good minute you backed up a little bit and looked at his beautiful baby face. You hesitated for a second and kissed him. He did not know what to do so he would just hold you close to him - he did not want this to end.

Now:

— Levi would steal kisses every now and then if you were alone in a room. In public, he would give you a quick kiss on the head but that would be it. You on the other side, could not care less if you were in public or not. If you had to leave him, you would kiss him goodbye, a quick kiss on the lips. Sometimes, you would attack him with kisses on the cheek and he would just blush, but Levi never pushed you away because he liked these kisses.

Carrying:

At first:

— He would carry when you were too tired after trainings. As a part of his squad, trainings were intense. Your muscles were always sore after and you would just lay on the ground. Levi would just carry you to his private bathroom to let you shower.

“Noo, me too tired to shower!”

“You can’t stay in your own sweat, that’s disgusting.”

“Help me then!” you joked.

Levi did not hesitate a second before undressing you, thinking “if I don’t, she will never shower.” You froze on the spot thinking Levi would get your joke, but he did not. You watched him undressing you and carrying you in the shower. He looked at your naked body and left the bathroom quicker than Hange when she hears the word titan.

— At the beginning of your relationship, Levi would also often carry you to your bedroom since you would always fell asleep on his couch while he was working.

Now:

— Now that you would sleep with Levi, he didn’t have to carry you to your bedroom, he’d only carry you to his.

Back rubs:

At first:

— Your family and friends always loved your back rubs because you had long nails and it just felt good. One night, as you were in Levi’s bed, you started tracing letters on his back. He moaned softly and you stopped instantly.

“Sorry.”

“No, please keep going.” he begged.

So, you gently continued your back rubs and Levi never felt so good before. He fell asleep very quickly after that. Now thanks to you, he had two ways to fell asleep. He was too shy to ask you to give him back rubs at night, but you could always see it in his eyes. One night after an intense training session, you were too tired to move and Levi thought that he could give you back rubs instead. But you instantly moved away from him.

“Did I hurt you?” he freaked out immediately.

“No no!” you reassured him laughing, “It’s just I’m very ticklish and I hate that.”

Now:

— After a few good months of dating, Levi would always ask you to rub his back. One time after an expedition, you broke a nail, so you decided to cut them and when Levi found out he nearly passed out.

“How am I suppose to sleep now!”

“We can do other things to do to make you sleep.”

“Like what?”

“Come here.” you said tapping the spot next to you on his bed.

Tickling:

At first:

— After he found out about you being ticklish, he made sure to be careful around you. Because he still remembers that one time, when he accidentally nudges your hip and you just jerked away from him hitting your head against the wall.

Now:

— The only time he would intentionally tickle you was when you were sad. He loves your laugh so he would sacrifice himself just to hear it. Sacrifice because you would slap him and kick him in his balls (as a reflex) to stop him. But it was fine to him because you would always smile at him afterwards.

Massaging:

At first:

— Remember the day you cut your nails, well massaging him was your idea. Levi lay down on his bed next to you.

“Strip!” you ordered him.

Levi looked at you surprised but obey your order whiteout questioning you.

“You can keep your pants!” you screamed when you saw him taking off his pants. “Lay on your belly.”

Then you sat on top of his butt and started to massage his shoulders. Like for the back rubs, he started to moan softly just after you started. After thirty minutes, you stopped and lay down on top of him.

“Good night.” you whispered.

Now:

— Every time you would cut your nails, you would give him massage instead. Third thing you would do that made you fall asleep.

— You would give him massages when he worked late. You would usually stop him but sometimes it was too important for him to stop so you would just give him a massage.

Patting on the back:

At first:

— At the beginning of your relationship, giving a pat on your back was the only sign of affection he would give you in public. Levi would actually give you lots of pat on the back even before your relationship. It was the only kind of physical contact he could do without you finding out about his feelings.

Now:

— Now that you had plenty of other kind of physical contact, he would forget about that. You on the other hand did not. During some stressful meetings, you would give him a soft pat on the back saying, ‘I’m here’. You would always give him a shy smile too. Then Levi would just grab your hand and not letting it go before the end of the meeting.

Shaking hands:

At first:

— Your first handshake was when you meet the man. Erwin came back to the Survey Corps headquarters with three new people and you just happened to meet them.

“Erwin!” you greeted him joyfully. “Who are they?”

“New recruits.”

“Hello.” you said smiling and reached out your hand to the guy with black hair and grey eyes in the middle.

He started at you without taking your hand, but you did not give up. “Welcome to the Survey Corps, I hope you’ll like it here.” you smiled and after a good minute of nothing happening you started to put your hand down. But at the same time, he reached his hand and shake yours. His hand is rough but feels nice you thought. And Levi thought, her hand is really soft. He did not let go of your hand immediately, but Erwin coughed a little that meant ‘let’s go, you can do that later’, Levi immediately let go of you.

Now:

— You do not shake hands anymore; the first time was also the only time you shake hands. Whereas you never think about it, Levi did very often. He would always think about how soft your hand was and how small it was compared to his.

High fiving:

At first:

— Your first high five happened during one of your first expedition together. You just witnessed one of Levi’s kill and you were so impressed that you just keep on blabbering to him ‘congrats!!’ ‘You’re so awesome!’ ‘You have to teach me these moves.’ And then you would just hold your hand up facing him. He gave you a strange look and just watched you holding your hand up. Erwin came from behind and chuckled.

“What?” Levi asked. And like for your first handshake, you did not let go before a good long minute. He hesitantly took your hand and give it a weak squeeze. When he saw you laughing softy, he immediately let go of your hand thinking that you were laughing at him. He started to walk toward his horse, but you quickly reach out for his arm.

“I wasn’t mocking you. It’s just that I was expecting for a high five, not a hand holding session.” you smiled. He frowns his eyebrows and just kept going toward his house. Your turned around to face Erwin confused.

“What’s wrong with what I said?”

“Y/N, Levi is from the Underground and I’m not sure they did that very often.”

“Oh.”

After a few more miles of exploration, the Survey Corps started to prepare the tents and a campfire. Levi and you had to bring wood for the fire.

“Hold your hand up like I did before.” Levi did not answer and continue to pick up wood. “Please.” you begged. He sighed loudly and did you what said and hold his hand up. You walked up to him and high fives him happily. He just looked at you with a face saying, ‘what the hell just happened’.

“I’m high fiving you because you did a great job earlier.”

— Every now and then, Levi would give you high fives after you did a good job. If your tea was good — high five. If your cleaning was good — high five. If you had a solo kill outside the walls — high five. He was happy to see you excited about giving him high fives.

Now:

— He would still give you high fives out of habit. You would always remember that one time, in front of the 104th cadets, Levi gave you a high five and then slapped your ass as you both walked in opposite directions.

Pinky swearing:

At first:

— Your first pinky swear happened after your first fight. You were both sitting on his couch, cuddling. Suddenly, you break away from him and turned around, holding up your pinky finger. And like the time for the handshake and high five, he did nothing and just looked at you amused.

“What’s that?” he asked.

“Pinky swear, it’s illegal to break these promises.”

“What promise though?”

“To never fight again, I hate that, and I hated what I said. I never want us to go through this again.”

He held your pinky with his and that was your first pinky swear.

Now:

— You guys would not make much pinky swears because for you it was serious. Therefore, pinky swears were only for important issues like the first one you made. The last one you made was after the 57th expedition. He got hurt and his squad died. You nearly died too, and he wanted you to promise to him that you would never leave him.

“I don’t want to promise something I can’t control.”

“Please.” he begged holding you close to him.

“I promise...”

“No, pinky swear.” he said holding up his pinky finger.

Playing with the other’s hair:

At first:

— You always thought Levi's hair was wonderful. Amazing undercut, amazing colour and really soft and clean. One night as he was sleeping you started to play with his hair. His hand suddenly stopped yours.

“I'm sorry!” you blabbered. “I didn't mean to wake you, I just...”

“I wasn't asleep, I woke up when you did.” he reassured you.

“You have really nice hair! I like the style.” he genuinely smiled at you and put your hand back on his head.

“My mom...” he took a deep breath, “She was the one who cut my hair. And now I cut it on my own.” Levi told you. He didn’t why he did, but he wanted to share these kinds of things with you.

“Well, you mastered the moves because it’s incredible. I could help next time maybe?”

“I’m good thanks. Now continue your thing with my hair — feels good.” he ordered you and closed his eyes.

You continued playing with hair until he falls asleep.

Now:

— The first time you played with his hair, you were awake late — that was rare because you slept very easily. During one of your rare cuddling sessions, you would often play with his hair. In his office, you were laying on your back, reading a book. After hours of cleaning, he would collapse on you. His head on your breast.

“Play with my hair please?” he asked. And you of course could not say no to him.

Sitting on the other’s lap:

At first:

— The first one who sat on the other’s lap was Levi. You were in his office, talking about your day but you could not stop walking back and forth. And when you sat on his couch, Levi run to you and sat on your lap.

“Stop moving, you’re distracting me.”

— Once he was in his armchair going through some of his paperwork. And you were on his bed, all alone. So, you went to him and sat on his lap, taking his paperwork.

“I can read to you and you can cuddle me instead.”

Now:

— He like having you on his lap while he was working in his office. He would love to have you on his lap during boring meetings, but you weren’t a Squad Leader, so you weren’t allowed to be in there with him.

— Now that you were in an established relationship, you sometimes would ask him to sit on your lap. The man was short and light therefore it was not a problem for you. And you would always enjoy having him around you. Him on your laps and your arms around his waist.

Putting an arm around the other’s shoulder/back:

At first:

— At the beginning of your relationship, not many people knew about it. Therefore, some guys would sometimes come close and start flirting with you. Most of the time, you were alone, so Levi never witnessed any of this nonsense. But what had to happen happened. You were in the mess hall with Levi, Hange, Mike and Erwin. And a guy named James sat beside you. Everyone looked at him thinking ‘what the hell’ because that was the Squad Leader/Commander’s table - except for you.

“Y/N, hi.”

“Hi.” you responded hesitantly.

“What are you doing tomorrow?”

“She’ll be busy.” answered Levi.

“I asked her.” James said bravely but instantly regretted it. “I’m sorry!”

Levi put his arm around your shoulder and brought you closer to him and repeated “She’ll be busy.”

Now:

— If you walked around the halls together, you would put your arm around his back and his would be around your shoulder. People would always stare at you because seeing their Captain Levi acting all PDA outside.

Resting their head on the other’s shoulder/chest:

At first:

— If you were sitting next to each other, you would always put your head on his shoulder and unconsciously, he would lean his head on yours.

Now:

— During rare cuddling sessions, he would always have his head on your chest because your breasts were comfortable.

— At night, it was either being little spooned by Levi or just sleeping on him, with your head on his chest. Listening to his heartbeat was the best melody you could be listening to.

Tapping the other to get their attention:

At first:

— Levi was not really affectionate because he never received any from Kenny, so he didn’t know what to do. If you were in the same room, you would always tap his arm to get his attention.

— You loved reading so if you start a book, you will not care about anyone else. Levi would just sit next to you hoping for you to put your book down and talk to him. But you did not. So, he would tap your shoulder softly and say, ‘pay attention to me.’ And of course, you would obey.

Now:

— After years of being together, you would just ask the other for attention. Levi would just say things like ‘pay attention to me now, that’s an order from your Captain’ or just scream ‘Y/N!!’.

—————

hope you guys liked it <3

MASTERLIST

#levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman headcanons #attack on titan x reader #attack on titan #captain levi x reader #levi ackerman fluff

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iliveiloveiwrite · 3 years

Text

travel books and romance novels // Colin Bridgerton

Summary: Colin visits the library for research into his next trip; he didn’t expect to find you.

A/N: Colin’s desire to travel honestly reflects my own. For purposes of the fic, I have aged Colin up - it’s more to fit the plot line of Book Four which is his book anyway. I’m not sure how to feel about this fic, I'm happy with it but I’m not at the same time. I’m not being too harsh on myself however, this is my first time writing for Colin and I haven't got to grips with his character yet. I hope you all like!! <3

Pairing: Colin Bridgerton x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Colin is very cute, pining, mutual pining, strangers to friends to lovers, female reader, she/her pronouns, marriage proposal, happy ending.

Word count: 4k

Colin Bridgerton had spent over two decades of his life on this planet and had yet to find something or someone he loves more than travelling. The bug first bit him in his early twenties; desperate to experience a Grand Tour – a tradition of which that had strongly died out in the past century. He had read about it so often; dreamed of it nearly every day that eventually he put the idea forward to Anthony and his mother, Violet.

Though Violet was apprehensive at first, she warmed up to the idea once Colin gave her permission to choose some of the countries he would visit. Anthony held no qualms; having travelled to France and Spain before tragedy forced the family title upon his shoulders. Being able to travel would forge Colin into the man he should be; it would give him experience, and plenty of stories to tell his children and then eventually, their children.

Upon arriving back in London after his second trip away, Colin found himself glad to be home. He had sorely missed the sounds and smells that accompany London; the clipping of horses hooves and the constant chit-chat of men and women. It was home; it would always be home.

However, as he stepped off the boat or the train, Colin always wondered the same thing. How long would it be until he craved adventure once more?

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

A month.

Colin lasted a month in the company of his beloved family before he was desperate to head off on his next adventure. However, he had no clear destination in mind. He had visited Europe, toured the Mediterranean and had hopes of crossing the Atlantic one day soon, but for now - to save his mother’s poor nerves - was content to remain closer to home.

He wasn’t one to visit libraries himself, usually sending a list of books with a servant whenever they visited the place, but this time he fancied the walk to stretch his legs. He had decided that research was the best way forward into finding his next destination, his next adventure. The library could offer such a thing.

It truly was a thing of wonder; so many books and serial publications at home in one place. The library at Bridgerton House was well stocked and Colin knew he could walk in freely and take whatever he would need, but there was something attractive about going out to find exactly what you need. There was also the added bonus of a lack of interrogation from his much-loved mother.

A huff leaves his body as Colin is pitched forward; barely catching himself before knocking into one of the shelves. Turning, Colin readies the words he wants to fling at the person who had yet they die in his throat when he finds you standing behind him with an apologetic look on your face, close to tears.

“Mr. Bridgerton!” You gasp, bowing your head politely and in apology, “I hadn’t meant to walk into you.”

Colin smiles, brushing down his suit jacket, “It’s no worry, Miss (Y/L/N). No harm done.”

“I hope not,” You reply, biting your lip.

His smile grows wider at the note of concern in your voice. “Truly, Miss (Y/L/N), no harm done.”

“Nevertheless, I apologise.”

“What are you reading?” He asks, nodding at the two books in your hand, changing the subject.

“They’re romances,” You admit shyly, “I read to my aunt twice a week. She rather enjoys them.”

“And you? Do you enjoy them?”

“There are some that I enjoy, yes, but I prefer books with adventures if I’m being honest.”

“Adventures?”

You nod, “I like them very much. What do you read?”

Colin frowns; confused at the question. You gesture to the shelves of books surrounding you, “What do you like to read, Mr. Bridgerton? We are in a library after all.”

“Non-fiction,” He replies, nodding his head to the stack dedicated to true life accounts of travellers. “I’m here doing research.”

“Research?”

“For where I want to travel to next,” Colin clarifies; walking towards the stack, all the while knowing you’re following.

“Have you an idea?”

He shakes his head; disappointed at the admission. For his last two trips abroad, he had known exactly where he wanted to go and what he wanted to do and see. Now, however, he was struggling for ideas.

You nod your head; seemingly understanding the predicament Colin has found himself in. Holding close the hardcover editions of the romances your aunt loved so much, you take a step back from the third eldest Bridgerton.

“I hope you find your location soon, Mr. Bridgerton,” You murmur in farewell, turning away from the tall brunette.

“I hope you enjoy your romances,” Colin replies, watching you walk away. Fleetingly, he wonders if he will see you again.

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

The library remains just as silent as the last time Colin visited. The books he had borrowed heavy in his hands as he returns them to the attendant who nods in thanks. Distantly, he wonder whether he will run into you again. Since meeting you last, he hadn’t stopped thinking about you.

Colin barely knew you or your family; didn’t know much about your lineage or even whether you knew of his, yet he had not stopped thinking about you and the way you held your books so close to your chest, as if protective of them and what they held even if you didn’t own them. He couldn’t explain the urge he had to get to know you. Colin felt certain that if he wasn’t to see you in the next day or so he was to go mad from the unknown.

Luckily for his sanity, he spies a familiar head of hair amongst the shelves, and he cannot help the surge of happiness that runs through him when he recognises you reading the spines of the books. “Miss (Y/L/N)!” Colin calls out in greeting; rushing over to you.

“Mr. Bridgerton,” You smile, “How have you been? Have you decided on your next destination?”

“I have not though I’ll think of something soon.”

“I look forward to finding out. I’m sure Lady Whistledown will report on it.”

“I’m sure she will,” He drawls; his contempt for the author of the gossip sheet well known amongst family and friends. “How did the romances go down with your aunt? Did she enjoy them?”

Nodding your head, you explain, “Very much so. She usually stays awake for a chapter or two before falling asleep, but this time she stayed awake for close to five. I’m here looking for more books by the same author.”

“Would you like some help?”

“Only if you aren’t too busy. I wouldn’t want to pull you away from something more important.”

Colin shakes his head. “I would be happy to help.”

It takes the better part of an hour. Colin proving to be a distraction to your thoughts as you trawl through the shelves in the library. His very presence throws your mind into overdrive; overthinking his intentions for helping you, but also noticing just how handsome he truly is.

“I think we have enough for now,” You eventually comment, finding it hard to keep the sadness out of your voice as you realise that your time with the Bridgerton is up.

“Are three books enough?” Colin asks warily, as if he doesn’t want the time spent together to end either.

Sighing, you nod, “It’s enough to keep her occupied for a while. It takes us a few weeks to get through one book with me visiting her only twice a week.”

Colin nods understandingly, “Then the other romance novels must be for you.”

You raise an eyebrow, “I much prefer adventure novels though I did tell you that the first time we had met. Though I suppose I didn’t make that much of an impression.”

“I can assure you; you did. I just couldn’t help but notice that you must read far quicker than your aunt so surely you must read the other books you have borrowed.”

Caught out, you avert your gaze back to the books in your hand. Colin tries not to smile in triumph but fails miserably. “How often do you come here?” Colin asks, “Do you borrow books for your aunt alone, or do you read to another relative?”

Pursing your lips, you think over your answer. “I only read to my aunt and I suppose I come here at least once a week, usually on a Wednesday.”

Colin nods, “I shall see you next Wednesday then.”

Watching the Bridgerton walk away from you, you cannot help but wonder what exactly you had gotten yourself into.

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

The friendship that develops with Colin Bridgerton felt entirely natural; as if at some point in your lives your paths were always meant to cross, and a friendship was to begin. Colin finds you in and amongst the stacks of books the following week; a triumphant grin on his lips and his eyes bright with happiness when he finds you once again in the romance aisle.

He starts to offer you suggestions of books to read, meeting you at the library week after week; all the whole continuing his research into where he wants to travel next. He hasn’t settled on a destination, yet he comes to realise that this is the longest he has remained in London in years. Usually, Colin would return home, manage a month with his family before taking off again. A routine his mother has come to despise despite offering her blessing for every trip.

Weeks continue to pass and whilst his family know that Colin has become infatuated with someone, he isn’t ready to share you with them yet. He isn’t ready for the inspecting glances and interrogations from his mother, brothers, and sisters. For now, Colin was more than content to share you with the romance books you swear you don’t love as much as you truly do.

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

The café is busy and getting busier from a lunch rush when Colin sits down across from you. His hair remains a mess despite how often he runs his hands through it in an attempt to flatten it; his eyes are bright as he smiles widely at you.

“I thought you were going to be late,” You admonish, but there’s no heat behind it.

Colin takes a sip of his tea, “I could never be late, not for you.”

“You’re a flatterer.”

“And you’re a romance fan, no matter how many times you try to deny it. Tell me, what are you reading right now?”

You purse your lips, deciding whether to relay the information to him, but the longer you wait, the larger his smile gets. “Definitely not those novels,” You comment, “There is romance in my latest book, but I am reading it for the adventure. It has pirates if you must know, very adventurous.”

Colin laughs, reaching for one of the small cakes on the stand.

“I don’t know how I stand your company,” You complain, trying your best to calm your stomach long enough for you to enjoy the food on your plate. The butterflies raging there were making it rather hard.

“You like me, that’s why.”

“I suppose that is more judgement on me than it is you.”

Colin’s only answer is to wink before returning his attention to the food on his plate. For a while, it is silent between the two of you. happy smiles are exchanged between you both and quiet laughter when you both reach for the same cake; Colin, ever so gracious, lets you have the cake. Instead, he tops up his tea and then yours from the teapot.

“I would like to visit Russia next; I think – St. Petersburg,” Colin declares, breaking the silence once and for all.

“Truly? You would travel so far?” You ask, eyes wandering to the globe on the table in the corner of the room, a display item. Centred on England, Russia could not be seen for the distance between them.

“I’d travel to all four corners of the earth if I could,” Colin admits, voice honest.

You sit back in your chair, eyes wide with wonder at the prospect of travelling even outside the county without a chaperone. “I’d love to travel.”

“It is a marvel,” Colin smiles, thinking back to his trips through Europe and the Mediterranean.

“The only chance I’ll get to travel is on my honeymoon which will be a marvel in itself,” You reply, picking at an invisible thread on your skirts.

“Why?”

You sigh, “Mother doesn’t hold much hope for my marrying. She believes that I have been out for too many seasons and have nothing left to offer that could possibly entice a man into courting me, never mind proposing.”

Colin finds himself gripping the arm of his chair in an attempt to keep his anger at bay. Such words leaving your mouth should be a crime. You have plenty to offer. However, at the sight of your slumped shoulders and sad eyes, Colin realises that you believe the words of your mother; that you truly have nothing left to offer.

On a whim, Colin asks, “Are you attending the Duchess of Hasting’s ball tonight?”

Shaking your head, you explain, “Mother isn’t one for huge events no matter the title of its holder.”

Colin surges forward, grasping your gloved hand, “Come, please. My sister won’t mind. I’ll have her add you to the guest list and send a carriage for you.”

You remain silent as you think over his proposition, ready to turn him down and return to your life of safety but the determination in his eyes and the joy in his smile leaves you nodding your head instead.

“Alright,” You agree, “I shall wait for you carriage.”

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

The London home of the Duke and Duchess of Hastings could only be described as grand. Candles line the way to courtyard in which the ball would be held; they provide a romantic atmosphere, providing many a dark corner where young couples could sneak away from their chaperones.

Upon your announcement, you find yourself walking through the large crowd of people, unwittingly searching for the familiar head of brown hair. He finds you first, however, smiling widely as he notices you in the crowd.

Colin excuses himself from his conversation; making his way over to you as fast as he can without bringing too much attention to himself.

“You came,” Colin breathes as if in disbelief that you stand before him. His eyes run over you; taking it all in as his heart races. He hasn’t felt like this before; he hasn’t ever known anyone to make him feel like this. Colin feels as if he wants to show you everything, introduce you to everyone, but also keep you for himself should anyone want to steal you away.

“I said I would,” You smile, heated from his attention.

“You look beautiful,” Colin states truthfully.

“Thank you,” You answer, “You look very handsome too.”

“Would you care to dance?” Colin asks, a hand outstretched and waiting.

Smiling, you nod your acceptance. You take his offered hand, letting him leads you to the dancefloor where many other couples are readying themselves for the opening notes of the dance. Out of the corner of your eye, you spy Anthony’s eldest brother getting ready to dance with his wife, Kate. He offers Colin a smile and a nod to which Colin’s shoulders relax somewhat. You raise an eyebrow at the brunette only for Colin to shake his head; nothing you need to worry about.

Colin’s hands find themselves in the correct position son your body as you reach for his free hand, resting your hand on his shoulder. The music soon starts up and Colin begins to lead you round the dancefloor in a flurry of spins that leaves you giggling. His face lights up at the sound of your laughter, soon finding himself joining in.

“Stay for one more dance?” He asks as the music dies and you pull away, desperate not to let go of you just yet, happy enough right now to feel your hand in his and your body pressed so close.

“I’d love to,” You answer honestly, letting yourself be pulled back to the dancefloor where Colins hands soon start to feel like home on your body.

By the end of the second dance, you begin to feel dizzy from the spinning. Smiling gratefully at Colin, you apologise for having to bow out. He dismisses your apology with a wave of his hand, “Shall we get a drink? I’m sure I saw some lemonade not too long ago.”

“Lemonade sounds perfect. I seem to have worked up quite a thirst.”

“Then by all means,” Colin declares, bowing dramatically at the waist, “We must get the lady a drink.”

Laughing softly, you follow Colin to the drinks table where he hands you a small glass of the cold drink. He goes to take a drink from his own glass but is distracted by his mother calling his name. Colin apologises before leaving you in the company of his sisters, Eloise and Hyacinth.

“Good evening, mother,” Colin greets, dropping his head to kiss her on her cheek.

“Two dances in a row?” She asks as greeting, curious to know just who has distracted her son in this manner.

Colin ducks his head; not ashamed to have been caught out in his feelings, but ashamed that he hasn’t introduced you to his family as of yet. Across the room, despite the music, he hears your laughter. His attention rests on you as he watches you laugh at something said by either Eloise or Hyacinth. Your smile is wide as you try to cover it with your hand; trying to be polite but neither sister care that much as they continue to make you laugh.

You’re beautiful, he realises. He’s known it all along, of course, but with that smile on your face, Colin cannot help but desire to be the one who brings such a smile to life. He wants to be the cause of your smiles and your laughter; the reasons why your eyes crinkle in the corner. He wants it all; he wants it with you.

“I think you know why you haven’t set off on another adventure,” Violet states pointedly; eyes dancing between her son and where you stand, talking to Eloise and Hyacinth. A mother always knows.

Colin’s eyes don’t need to follow his mother’s; they had been on you since you excused yourself from him. He’s finally ready to confront what he had known along. “I think I know too. Do you approve?” He asks; realising he sounds like a child desperate for his mother’s attention.

Violet Bridgerton smiles, brushing Colin’s cheek softly with a gloved hand. “I think you suit each other perfectly.”

The smile that breaks over Colin’s face could only be described as blinding as he takes his mother’s hand from his face, kissing the back of it before leaning in to kiss her cheek. Against her cheek, he whispers, “Thank you, mother.”

Violet nods, eyes lined with tears as she watches her third eldest son walk away from her. She would be the first to admit how well suited you both are; the need for adventure alive in the both of you. She shakes her head fondly as she watches her son make his way over to you; holding out his hand, asking you to dance to which you graciously accept.

Violet begins to walk the outskirts of the ballroom; feeling nothing but pride and happiness for each one of her children and elated in the knowledge that there was soon to be another marriage in the Bridgerton household.

-----------

The morning after the ball is a pleasant one. The weather wonderfully warm as the sun shines through the windows; heating the drawing room pleasantly. Turning your face, you take in the rays, careful not to risk too much exposure.

Your latest read remains open on your lap as you continue to bask in the warmth of the sun. So far, the book has captured your attention and has failed to let it go. The heroine of the novel too relatable personality wise for you to take a break long enough. At this point in the novel, she had offered an ultimatum to her suitor – he can join her on her next escapade, or he can find another woman to marry. You could only hope he would join her in her next adventure; their comradery was too perfect to end so suddenly.

However, after the events of last night, you found it hard to focus on the book long enough to turn the page. Instead, you found yourself reading the same line over and over again, desperately trying to lose yourself in the witty prose of the author.

But your mind focused on last night: the music, the dancing, the company. It had been a dream; it felt like a dream – only your mind could cook something up so perfect, yet deep down you knew you had experienced every second. You were certain you were still dizzy from the spins you had taken when dancing with Colin.

Biting your lip, you think back to the three dances you had shared with the third eldest Bridgerton. Three dances – could it be true? Shaking your head, you answer your own question. It was true; you remember every moment with crystal clarity. Three dances with Colin had to mean something; it had to mean he felt something for you. Your heart begins to race as you think of the possibilities

“Miss,” Your Butler states, interrupting your daydreaming, “A Mr. Colin Bridgerton is here to call on you.”

“Show him in,” You answer, standing from your window seat, brushing down the skirts of you dress. Biting your lip, you could only hope that you looked presentable.

“(Y/N),” Colin greets as he enters the room, a large smile on his face. A bouquet of red roses and lady’s breath in his hand that he offers to you.

“They’re beautiful, Colin. Thank you,” You whisper, eyes darting around the room for a vase. They would be put in there after Colin had left.

“I’m glad you think so.”

“What did I do to deserve flowers though?” You ask, a teasing note in your voice.

Colin smiles, “I know where I want to travel to next. I came to tell you.”

A pang of disappointment rushes through your body soon followed by upset. Placing the flowers on the nearest table, you do what you can to avoid his gaze as you ask, “When do you leave?”

“That’s the thing,” He starts, shifting nervously, “I have something to ask of you before.”

“What?”

“Travel with me. Come with me,” He all but pleads, reaching for your hand, “As my wife.”

Your eyes widen as Colin’s grip on your hand tightens. “What?” You question, breath coming in a hurry. “What are you asking me, Colin?”

“I’m asking you to marry me so we can travel together. I’ve seen the world once; I want to see it again with you.”

“I have to admit this isn’t what I expected today,” You ramble, trying your best to not look into his eyes. The moment you do, you’re done for.

“(Y/N)…” Colin interrupts, cutting off your nervous rambling. “I need to know an answer, love.”

It’s only then that you let yourself look into his blue eyes; reading the emotions written over his face. He was promising you adventure; the likes of which you had only read in books. Colin was promising you a future full of love and laughter; a dream you had hoped for since you were a young child.

Suddenly, as you look into his blue, blue eyes, it’s all clear.

“Yes,” You whisper, somewhat breathless but entirely ready to begin your future with the man in front of you, “Let’s see the world together.”

********

Bridgerton Taglist: @heloisedaphnebrightmore @dreaming-about-fanfictions @now-its-time-for-a-breakdown @janelongxox @aspiringsloth20 @wallwriterstuff

#colin bridgerton x reader #colin x reader #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton #colin bridgerton #colin bridgerton imagines #colin bridgerton imagine

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hopelesshawks · 2 years

Note

Hi! I Hope to don't bother you, (if i do pls don't read the second half of the request✨) if that's the case or you are too occuoped don't worry, I hope you can rest and have some quality time for yourself and recover for anyting that had happened (indebetly if it's "not too hard") ✨🧡

Thanks you for reading that far✨🌾

I would like to ask a fluff/confort whith hawks or Bakugo (whoever you are more confortable writing) where the Reader help them to patch up fisically and mentally after a rough mission?

Like comfort/decompressing moment for them?

Thanks you very much!! 🌾✨

Hello anon! Sorry it took a minute but I’m finally getting around to some of my requests so I’ve got you!

As much as I love my boy Hawks (forever and always my number one), I haven’t been giving Bakugo nearly enough love lately so I’ll let him take this one. Not 100% sure how I feel about the ending but overall happy with this

Warning for off screen minor character deaths

You see it on the news first.

Katsuki had been chasing a villain all over Musutafu, only for the man to rush into one of the lower floors of a busy office building. It was un-rented space so Katsuki thought he’d finally be able to unleash a little more, finally down the villain, and get him cuffed. What he hadn’t realized was that the villain had planned for that very moment.

The villain had loosened a gas pipe for the building’s heating system on that floor. As soon as Katsuki shot off his quirk the entire room was engulfed in flames, sending the hero flying back out onto the street and triggering the entire building’s collapse.

In the end, in spite of Katsuki best attempts at fixing the situation, the villain escaped, 6 people died, and dozens more were injured. The media didn’t blame Dynamight but they didn’t have to.

He did plenty of that himself.

You know it’s bad when he comes straight home instead of going back to his agency first to shower and change.

As soon as you saw the news report you figured it would be one of those days, so you’ve already started running a hot bath for him when you hear the sound of your front door opening and then the heavy thud of his gauntlets hitting the hardwood floors.

Bakugo hit his growth spurt around your second or third year at UA and between that and years of training and pro hero work, he is a hulk of a man. 6’ 4” with broad shoulders, a well muscled chest, and biceps so large your hands don’t fit around them. Not to mention his loud personality. Everything about Bakugo Katsuki is massive. But stood in your doorway right now he looks so incredibly small. Small and lost.

“Katsuki?” you prompt gently.

His eyes slowly drag up to meet yours and they’re filled with exhaustion and grief and so much guilt you wonder how he shoulders the burden.

He doesn’t say anything, but you knew he wouldn’t, so you take slow steps towards him as if approaching a wounded animal and extend your hand for him to take.

“I’ve got a bath running for you. C’mon,” you tell him and you count it as a win that you got a small nod back as he reaches out to take your hand and allows himself to be pulled to the bathroom.

Typically Bakugo would fuss about you letting him into your pristine bathroom when he’s covered in so much dust and ash but he doesn’t say anything. Even as you start to peel him out of his hero costume, depositing the many pieces on the pure white tile flooring and in doing so marring the surface with smudges of gray, he doesn’t complain.

By the time you’ve stripped him nude the bath water has finally reached a suitable level, so you shut off the tap and ease him into the tub. You don’t say a word, you know from experience it’s best to let him bring things up at his own pace, so you simply grab a washcloth, soaking it in the hot water and then gently gliding it over his skin to wipe away the grime there. You take note of every scrape and scratch you find. They’re mostly concentrated on his arms where his summer costume doesn’t protect him and it’s probably a safe bet to guess that he scratched the shit out of his gauntlets as well. You make a mental note to make some new ones for him when you go into work tomorrow but for now you return your focus to him.

“My explosion killed them.”

The words come out raspy and wet as Katsuki’s entire frame trembles with self-loathing and the effort of holding back tears he doesn’t think he deserves to shed.

“It’s not your fault. You had no way of knowing the villain had rigged the building like that,” you reassure him but he shakes his head.

“I should’ve smelled the gas as soon as I entered.”

“That’s a very subtle, very difficult thing to notice while running on adrenaline and you were focused on catching the villain.”

“I still should’ve noticed. Should’ve known not to use my quirk.”

“Didn’t they find lighters near the scene? He would’ve found a way to set off the gas regardless.”

“Six people died.”

“And who knows how many more would have had you not been there to try and help evacuate.”

“This never would’ve happened if it were—”

Deku.

He doesn’t actually say the name, cutting himself off and turning his face away from you instead, but you hear it anyway. Childhood victim, high school brother in arms, and current number one hero; the only pro ranked higher than Katsuki himself. Katsuki’s grown a lot over the years but some habits die hard and in moments like this you often find him comparing himself to his peers. Kirishima would’ve calmed those survivors down better, Kaminari would’ve been more charming in that interview, and on Bakugo’s biggest screw ups it’s almost always Deku would’ve done everything better. You know they’d be devastated if they realized just how much Katsuki compares himself to them and finds himself lacking, but that doesn’t stop him from making the comparisons. Even if he was willing to reveal that much to them, he’d brush them off if they tried to tell him any differently.

He’s just a tiny bit better at listening to you though.

Your gently reach forward to grasp hold of his cheeks, thumbs brushing over his cheekbones as you turn his face back towards you. You force him to look you in the eyes as you say your next words, knowing he needs to be able to see just how much sincerity there is in them.

“There is not a single pro hero on the charts now or ever that has never had civilians die on them during a mission. Including All Might. Pro heroes are human; you are human. We learn from our mistakes and we keep moving, ok?” you insist, never breaking eye contact.

For a minute Katsuki doesn’t respond. He just sits there, eyes searching yours hesitantly as if checking to see if you’ll waver or give any other indication you’re just saying what you think he wants to hear. Finding no evidence that you don’t mean what you said, he finally gives you a nod. You give him a gentle smile in return, pressing a kiss to his forehead. You know he needs time on his own to fully process your words so you decide to give it to him.

“Why don’t you finish washing up in the shower and I’ll go get these washed. Ok?”

Katsuki nods, the bath water having gone gray at this point anyway, so you press another kiss to his forehead and gather up his filthy hero suit before leaving him in the bathroom to shower.

You toss his hero suit in the washing machine and then return with your own now filthy clothes and then move to your bedroom, putting on your own pajamas before gathering up his comfiest shirt and pajama pants to bring with you back to the laundry room. You toss those in the dryer so they’ll be warm by the time Katsuki’s ready for them and then move to the kitchen.

He never has much of an appetite after missions gone wrong so you start making miso soup, something you should be able to convince him to eat anyway. You’ve mastered the timing over the years and you’ve got the final soup ready by the time the dryer pings to let you know that it’s finished warming up Katsuki’s pajamas for you. When Katsuki emerges from the bathroom, finally clean with a towel slung low around his hips, you’re waiting on your bed for him with his warm pajamas folded next to you, the antiseptic and cotton pads on your other side, and a warm bowl of miso soup in your hands. He leans down to press a kiss to the top of your head in thanks, wordlessly putting on the pajamas. There’s a silent debate between you both about whether he’ll eat or not but eventually he relents, obediently taking a seat on the bed and accepting the bowl from your hands.

As he eats you carefully tend to the scrapes you’d found earlier, dabbing at them with antiseptic.

“You know I was thinking,” you start conversationally, “I need to fix up your gauntlets anyway. I could fit each one with a censor that’ll alert you if there’s a lot of flammable material in the air around you.”

Bakugo’s head snaps to yours, one of his hands coming up to still the movement of yours. His eyes are wide, filled with genuine surprise and vulnerability that’s rare even for you to see.

“You don’t have to—”

“I want to,” you assure him and no sooner than the words left your mouth, he surges forward to kiss you desperately. You practically feel him melt into you, his gratitude and relief palpable as you provide not only comfort but a solution. A tangible one.

“Thank you,” he whispers once your lips finally part, foreheads still pressed together.

“Anything for you. I love you Katsuki.”

“I love you too.”

#hopeless.inbox #hhrequests #bakugo x y/n #bakugo x reader #bakugo hurt comfort

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bokettochild · 3 years

Note

Ooh for a fluff piece you should do Hyrule and Warriors and something with claustrophobia (although that has the potential for angst real fast so feel free to ignore me)

Oops, I think my hand slipped.....

(Sorry I didn't get to this for so long, I've been crazy busy and wasn't sure how to approach writing angst until people apparently started crying at my attempt at crack :)

Glass.

Glass walls and a glass floor. A cork ceiling and too little air, too little space to breathe, too little space to function.

Hyrule’s breath hitches again with a silent whimper, his glow fading slowly with every second spent inside of his prison. Outside, he can hear the reverberating shouts of the others, fear and worry in their voices as they call out, likely shouting for him, looking and worrying and screaming in concern.

‘I’m right here!’ He wants to call back, wants to wail to the glass walls that press closer and closer around him. ‘Guys, I’m here, let me out!’ But they won’t hear. They won’t hear his tiny voice, especially not when it’s trapped inside this glass prison.

“Any sign?” The vet’s voice is strained and desperate, violet eyes flickering with fear as they dart from one tired Hero of Courage to another. “He’s got to be here somewhere!”

“Nothing.” There are tears in Sky’s eyes, and even if he’s clearly trying to be strong for the others there’s a heavy slump to his shoulders as if the weight of all of their problems hangs from them. “Twilight and I looked all over, his trail just...ends...”

“He’s got to be somewhere!” Wind protests, voice breaking and fists clenching as the sailor looks over each of them, fear and worry in the kid’s eyes as he stubbornly denies the report Twilight gently gives the rest of them.

It’s not a pretty sight.

Hyrule had only wandered off for a minute while they’d all freshened up in the stream near their camp, but that was all the time needed for him to disappear, tracks ending suddenly and no sign of him, not even a droplet of blood or a broken blade of grass left behind for them to track him with. It was Four who noticed, and while jokes and laughter had sounded as they all teased each other about the Traveler getting lost, the jokes had faded when Twilight had come back, eyes shining with worry as he informed them of Hyrule’s lack of a trail.

All mirth had died then, and eight dripping heroes had abandoned all save their weapons to search for their brother. Their cheeks redden in the cooling night air, Four sneezing occasionally as he pulls his tunic over his head while they speak. None of the others bother, standing about in all states of dress as they consider what to do.

“We’ve searched everything within two miles.” Wild murmurs pensively. “And there’s only one trail, even Hyrule can’t cover his tracks so well that Twilight can’t find him.”

“But I can’t find him, Cub.” Twilight’s voice is almost a whine, eyes pained as the rancher sits with his head in his hands. “There’s no signs! It’s like he just, vanished!”

Time’s heavy hand comes to rest on his protégé's shoulders, rubbing gently over them in an attempt at comfort that Twilight shows no interest in accepting.

They’re worn, Warriors sighs to himself. His brothers have been pushing themselves for weeks and today was meant to be a day of rest and rejuvenation beside the river. But here they sit, worry carving lines across the faces of even their youngest, shoulders drawn up close to ears or slumped in resignation. It’s been hours, Hyrule should be back by now.

Sky’s tired gaze meets his own over the heads of the younger heroes, there’s determination fighting against reassignment inside of sapphire blue, but Sky forces a weak smile for his sake, silent words passing between the two before both nod in finality. “There’s no sign-”

“We know that Sky!” The vet snaps, hands buried in his still dripping hair. “Twilight, you have your things, right?” The vet asks pointedly, breath hitching and coming in short little bursts as he looks up to the rancher.

Twilight nods, dropping one hand to tug at something hidden under his collar “Yeah.”

“Does Hyrule has any items that let him fly? Oh Nayru! I should have asked him!” The vet’s panicking now, and it’s agitating the younger heroes as his feet tap nervously at the ground, hands shaking as they run repeatedly through his bangs and tap against his thighs.

Wind’s worrying at the hem of his tunic and Wild scratches at his scars, and Warriors has no doubt that if Four wasn’t shivering and wrapping himself in his arms that the smithy would also be fidgeting nervously.

Sky sighs heavily, grabbing his sailcloth from the ground and wrapping it around the smithy’s shoulders carefully. “Like I said, there’s no sign so far. But we have to trust in Hyrule’s abilities. The traveler’s a tough egg, he doesn’t break easily and he knows what he’s doing in a forest, especially a dangerous one.” The Skyloftian shoots Legend a pointed glance, cutting off the young veteran before he can start fussing again. “It’s getting dark and we won’t be able to see, and if we’re too loud and keep disturbing the forest, we’ll only alert any monsters that might be around here to our presence. We’ll make camp here for the night and keep looking in the morning, after everyone has a warm meal.”

“He’s out there!” Legend insists.

“And he’s strong. I can’t help Hyrule right now, none of us can, not in this darkness. But I can make sure you all rest and get something to eat.” Sky’s voice gentles as he lays a hand on Legend’s bare shoulder. “We’ll find him, Bun, have a little faith in the traveler.”

The vet looks instants away from protesting, from shouting something harsh that he probably doesn’t mean. He’s worried, they all are, but Legend responds worst of all of them to injury or illness, and his protégé going missing doesn’t seem to be an exception.

It’s Time’s voice that cuts through the tension, face stern as he meets the veteran’s eyes. “Rest. We’re no good to Hyrule if we can’t walk a straight line. Cub,” Wild’s ears prick forwards, attentive and eager for orders. The little soldier shows his training, even though he might not remember it; eager for a task to complete to distract from the tension, needing a job to focus on instead of his own spiraling thoughts. It draws a tiny smile to Warriors’ face as he watches. “Could you mix up something warm for everyone? We’ll eat and head to bed, Sky and I can take first watch, Warriors and Wild will have second,” Always best to put the two war heroes together on second watch, less chance of waking the others with their nightmares. “And Twilight and Four can take second.”

Again, Legend looks like he might protest, but their leader fixes him with a stern look. “Vet, try to sleep, please.”

Little chance of that, he muses, watching as the vet huffs and kicks at the dirt, Legend’s a worrier, even if he would never admit it, and if anyone’s going to be up all night long fussing and fidgeting, it’ll be him. What Warriors wouldn’t give to pull Ravio along just this once so that the merchant can calm their friend, he doesn’t know how he does it, but Ravio and Hyrule both have a magic touch when dealing with the ornery teenager.

“Help me get Four settled.” Sky nudges Legend’s shoulder gently. “But get dressed first.”

Tasks. That’s right, give everyone something to do to take their mind off of worrying and running wild with imaginings that will only fuel anxiety and nightmares.

“Wind,” The sailor turns to him with pinched brows, but the kid calms significantly at the sound of his captain voice. “How about you and Twilight gather some wood for a fire? Time, will you scout the borders with me while the others prep camp?”

Mentor and protégé both nod; taking the orders that come easily to his mind, the rancher pulling on his wolf pelt and melting into the forest with Wind at his heels, and Time grabbing his sword and shield and coming to follow at his side.

“Thanks for stepping up.” The older man hums, gaze strained but warm as he offers a small quirk of the lips. “You and Sky both.”

He claps the other man on the shoulder, thankful in part that Time hasn’t donned his heavy armor, thus allowing him to avoid destroying his knuckles. “That’s my job, Sprout. Besides, you had your hands full with a sad puppy.”

Time shakes his head with a soft chuckle, but Warriors counts it as a win.

If Legend was bad the night Hyrule went missing, he’s terrible when the portal sweeps over them midway through their attempts to find his protégé, and the vet’s full-on panicking once they’ve all stopped feeling woozy and sick. He’s not the only one; Wind is almost crying, the poor kids so overwhelmed, and Wild’s agitated behavior has spiked to a full blown manic as he investigates the land around them.

It’s all the three eldest heroes can do to try and keep the younger ones calm, and while Twilight tags along with Wild to scout the area, Time bundles up a shivering and sneezing Four into his arms with a soft hum, hands dragging through the smithy’s long hair carefully.

“Cold?” He calls over to the two.

Time nods. “Probably.”

They should have taken more care to dry off before starting their search.

While Sky attempts to calm Legend, simultaneously holding Wind close to himself and offering one of his Big Brother Hugs to the sailor, Warriors takes care to check their things over and make sure nothing has been left behind.

Wild’s things are nearly always in his slate. Twilight and Time have their bags on hand, but the younger ones and Sky all have plenty to ensure is still in order, and he makes extra sure to check that the potions and fairies they have are all in order and that the bottle haven’t broken during the tumbling of the switch.

There’s light again.

Hyrule whimpers as it floods over him, tucking himself closer to the base of the bottle as large hands rummage around.

His glass prison tilts and swings, but the traveler can only tumble around within, pained hisses escaping him as he fights nausea that he can only assume is from some kind of switch.

It’s Warriors’ blue gloved hand that has his bottle, and hope flutters softly alongside iridescent wings as Hyrule silently prays that the captain will open it. They’ve been looking for him, right? Maybe Warriors figured out his mistake! Maybe he realized that Hyrule isn’t your average healing fairy and has decided to let him go again!

Oh, please let it be so! He won’t burn the captain’s bug-net after all if the man will just let him out!!!

The bottle settles again, and a blue gloved hand withdraws, leaving Hyrule lying on the floor of his bottle, the glass walls and stuffy air of the bag pressing in around him as another miserable whimper escapes him.

The bag he’s trapped in is flipped closed, and he’s plunged again into darkness.

Someone get a fairy!” Legend shrieks, the vet’s panic over the last few hours heightened as his blood soaked hands press against the wound in Time’s side.

Twilight’s face is pale from where he sits supporting his mentor’s head, blood splattering his face and Time’s own as the older man chokes and wheezes, blood bubbling up from between his lips as Legend and Four both work like mad-men to try and tend their leader’s wounds.

It was a freak attack. No one saw it coming, not with how out of it they all were, and there was no time to stop it when the hinox had come rumbling through the forest with ‘blins scurrying about at its feet.

As per Legend and Warriors’ instructions, the heroes had worked to bring down the smaller enemies first, slashing and skewering while the black blood of their enemies gushed out over their blades and darting forms. The ‘blins are hard to beat, as are all the black blooded monsters, but it's become a struggle they’re accustomed too, and the heroes each dart in and out of the battle with the sort of grace of people that are accustomed to battling together and against dangers of all sort.

There’s a flaw in the system though, as they’re short one member, and while Legend and Hyrule usually fight back-to-back, with Four and Wind close at hand, the traveler is gone, and it throws off his battle partners considerably.

Time was only just in time to prevent Wind and Legend both from being axed, but the wound l=that gushes blood from his side now had been the price.

“Fairy!” Four shouts out again. “Now!”

He blinks awake, the blurriness of his vision fogging his mind too, but not so much that he doesn’t register the request this time. Gloved hands fumble with the buckles of his bag, and he’s sweating and breathing harshly with worry as he rips the straps aside and grabs the first bottle he sees. Red liquid glitters back at him and he huffs a grunt out, handing it off to Wind and digging back into his bag.

Thank Hylia he and Four had gone fairy hunting in the last world they’d been in, he’s only got the one fairy, but it should be enough.

Faint pink glimmers in his jar, no longer bright and flittering, but he has to pray it’ll be enough to save Time. His fingers scrabble for the cork, tears pricking at his eyes and burning as he does his best to force them back.

Help Time.

Calm the others.

Break down and cry later.

The cork pops free, and the fairy bumbles sluggishly towards the mouth of the jar.

“Help!” He wheezes, glancing at where Legend and Four have started preforming CPR as tears stream openly down Twilight’s face, the rancher clutching his mentor’s hand tight enough to break bones as he watches the two replacement healers attempt to preserve the ever-fading breath of the man in his arms.

The fairy's wings flit softly as it launches from the mouth of the jar. Its path is sluggish and crooked, but soft glimmering dust flutters from its wings all the same, sprinkling over the gushing wound and slowing the flow of blood. Four leans back to spit out some blood that’s bubbled up into his mouth while he was pushing air into their leader’s lungs, and a stuttering cough breaks the frenzied silence as Time’s eyes flicker. The fairy circles a second time, color returning to Time’s face as raw and tender flesh takes the place of an open wound. There’s no time for a third pass, however, as the fairy’s wings stutter to a halt, pink glow fading as it drops to the earth.

The others are too busy with Time to notice, Wind practically shoving the red potion down the man’s throat while Legend and Four start wrapping the wound in their leader’s side. Only Warriors has seen the fairy fall, and panic lances through his heart again.

Fairies aren’t supposed to collapse after healing someone; they’re supposed to fly away. But this fairy only weakly attempts to rise again, and while the other fuss over the lesser injuries while Legend scolds Time, the captain turns his attention to the fading pink light that blinks on and off in the tall grass.

The fairy shivers in his hands as he gently scoops it up, but when he raises it to eyes level to look at it properly, he freezes.

Tousled brown hair, drenched in sweat, flops over lidden golden eyes. Sure, there six tiny eyes to look at, but the light in them, though faded, is familiar. Same as the freckles that dust drawn cheeks and the tiny green and brown tunic, the shrunken boots the-

“Hyrule?” His voice is soft and disbelieving, too hushed to be heard by the others as they continue to worry over the old man. But the tiny figure in his hands stirs, ever so slightly, golden eyes blinking open as a weak smile meets his gaze.

“W-” The single sound escaped before the fairy stutters in his hands, lights blinking out for half of a second as Hyrule coughs and wheezes.

“Hang on!” Again, he’s digging in his bag, guilt and utter horror filling him as realization hits.

He put Hyrule in a bottle. A bottle that has sat in his bag for days. A bottle that is closed and sealed and-

The captain’s breath stutters as his fingers find the vial of green potion. Eyes glassy as he lifts it to the fading light in his hands, and while Hyrule sips slowly at the vial that’s raised to his lips, it’s all that the soldier can do to not break down crying right then and there.

He locked Hyrule in a bottle!

Tiny wings flutter in his hold as Hyrule pulls himself up to grasp the vial better, but the captain’s so lost in his head he can only stare, unseeing, as the fairy downs the rest of the vial, despite the thing being bigger than himself. The pink glow that signifies a healing fairy stutters back to a more radiant bloom, wings fluttering lightly as Hyrule shakes out his limbs with a wince.

“Thank you for freeing me.” The traveler’s tiny voice chirps, eyes pained but warm as they all stare up at him, and a single tear escapes from the captain at the words.

He doesn’t really think, just gently plucks the fairy up and settles him in a fold of his scarf before jumping to his feet and striding away into the forest. Sky’s voice calls after him, but he ignores it, instead heading for the nearest bunch of trees.

He’s not sure why he brought Hyrule along, but he also knows he couldn’t just leave the fairy hero back in the camp with no one to watch over him, so even as he fights back the tears that well in his eyes and the pain that blossoms in his heart and the sensation of too small- too tight- trapped- glass- trapped-

“Warriors!” The sharp peal of Hyrule’s voice cuts him out of his thoughts. He doesn’t know when he’d fallen to his knees or when his hands had risen up to clutch his hair. It hurts how hard he’s pulling, and it scares him that he hadn’t even felt it. “Hey!” The voice continues, Hyrule fluttering, still weak, only inches from his face, concern glimmering in glimmering golden eyes. “Hey listen! Wars? Can you hear me? Wars?”

“S-sorry.”

“Are you okay?” Hyrule dismissed the apology, and it draws a wet laugh from the captain as he watches the still stuttering wings beating with a speed to rival a hummingbird, Hyrule’s drawn frame looking even paler and thinner right now than it had when they’d first met him.

“I should be asking you that, kid.” He chokes out. He’d locked this kid in a bottle for days! He’d never known it and if Time hadn’t been dying, who knows how long it would have taken him to open it!

Hyrule’s smile is drawn as his wings stutter to a stop again, the traveler falling into Warriors’ lap as the captain starts forwards as if to catch him. Muttered words sound through the air and then Hyrule, properly sized but still pale and thin and painfully still is nestled against his chest. “I’m exhausted and hungry, but I’m out.” The kid breathes, eyes fluttering as a soft breeze ruffles his sweat soaked hair. “I’m out and that’s all I could ask for right now.”

He doesn’t even think as he wraps his arms around the kid, burying his nose in the damp curls and never minding the fact that they are rank with sweat and fear. It’s Hyrule, and he’s safe, and while Legend is probably going to murder him for trapping the poor kid for three whole days, at least he knows that the little one is alright.

“I’m so sorry.” His voice is muffled as he murmurs into the curls. “I know how bottles suck, if I’d’ve known it was you I would have never-” His voice hitches with a sob as he tugs the kid closer, weeping as Hyrule’s gentle hands weakly pat the only thing they can reach within his tight hug, his chest.

“You didn’t know.” Hyrule rasps softly. “But I’m burning your bug-net when I have the energy.”

“Please.” Comes the strangled sob. “Oh goddesses, Rule, I’m so sorry!” The gentle hands move up to wipe away his tears but it only brings them flooding down harder. “Goddesses, I locked you in a bottle! You could’ve been in there forever and I wouldn’t have known! I wouldn’t have checked! I would’ve-”

Left him there. His mind supplies. He would have left Hyrule in a glass bottle where no one could find him, where his shrieks and screams and pleas for help wouldn’t have made a difference to anything or anyone, not when the giant beings that trapped him were unaware or uncaring of his fate, not when he was there to serve a purpose, not when he was there to be used like an item and supply power to those who don’t have enough themselves.

A talisman. I trophy. A tool so that they could do what they needed.

He’s been there. He’s been in that bottle, used like a tool, supplying power to beings so much larger than himself. He’s been in that bottle and left to sit while his friends call his name, while Mask and Tune and Ravio and Impa and Marin and Midna and- and-

“Hush.” Hyrule coos softly, voice hoarse, no doubt from many a scream and wail in hopes of catching their attention, of gaining freedom. “Sush, you’re okay. I’m okay, we’re both okay and Time will be okay.” Rough pads scrape across his cheeks and gently rub his ears. “I got you Wars, I got you.”

And Hyrule does have him, holds him despite being the one in Warriors’ lap, until the others come wandering over and the traveler is scooped from his arms by Sky, who hugs the youngster with tears pouring down his face and voice caught in his throat.

His tears go unnoticed as they all head back, and the instant they reach camp Legend is springing forwards with worry glittering in his eyes as he takes the traveler’s face in his hands, disbelief and shock and hurt and hope and a thousand other emotions swarming in golden violet as Legend gently touches the traveler’s brow with his own, crystal tears leaking out slowly as a tiny smile pulls at the vet’s face.

It only lasts a minute, but then Sky and Legend are fussing over Hyrule, checking him over and clucking their tongues like a couple of mother cuckoos as Wild springs towards the fire, eyes flashing indignantly at the sight of Hyrule’s thin frame, something he’d worked so hard to mend.

“Oh, ‘Rulie, thank Din you’re back!” Legend sighs, cupping the kids face gently in his hands as golden eyes flicker up at the vet with a smile. “Wherever where you? We nearly lost our minds with worry!”

“He was trapped by a monster.” The words roll off of his tongue bitterly as Hyrule frowns up at him, but Legend and Sky are too busy fussing to notice and Hyrule isn’t given a chance to correct anything as they check again for any injuries.

Warriors draws away, leaving Hyrule wrapped in his scarf as he sits on the edge of camp, head aching from tears shed and mind blank in the wake of them. He’s too tired to join in the fuss and celebration as Time sits up again with a groan and Hyrule is spoon-fed soup by a murmuring Sky. He’s tired. He’s cold, and he feels utterly empty.

At least he’s not in a bottle.

The thought sends shivers through him as he curls in on himself, an outlier to the bustle of the camp, free now to descend into the madness of his broken mind.

#warriors angst #idiot writes angst #sapphic loser16 my beloved #linked universe #linkeduniverse #lu warriors #lu hyrule #lu legend #lu time #lu twilight #lu sky #lu wind #lu four #lu wild #angst #hurt no comfort #claustrophobia #claustrophobia tw

84 notes · View notes

obae-me · 3 years

Note

LMAO, okay so what if they discovered that Diavolo (or his dad) was MC's dad? Like they get scared and then boom, wings and horns.

This idea is *chefs kiss*. I’m assuming since this was sent in when my requests were open ages ago that this is a headcanon idea so here we go! Thank you for your patience, finally you can have some Demon!Mc content!

These are Headcanons for the Brothers, but I like the idea so much I might come back later and write some for the Undateables.

The Prince of Hell is My Half Brother?

Everything had been normal at first. Well, as normal as living in a modern version of hell with some of the deadliest demons can be. Something about it all...felt...comforting. Although MC knew that couldn’t be the case, they were unaware of what it was that alluded to the feeling of home. MC’s roommates and protectors were a little grateful when the human settled in with relative ease in their otherworldly situation, but even they questioned how the mortal could accept it all so simply.

Diavolo himself had an idea of why. From the moment he first saw MC, something in his soul bound to them. He needed to test out this theory of his, but not by being direct, no, he would never get an authentic answer that way. Plus, it was no fun, and with his endless royal responsibilities, he felt he was due a little entertainment.

So, he conjured up another one of his toyful ploys. With the help of Barbatos, the residents of Purgatory Hall and the House of Lamentation were trapped in the coliseum. Slowly, one of the chambers raised its protective gates, unleashing a demonic monster. It wasn’t till MC felt their life threatened when the change happened, something about their prolonged exposure to magic and the Devildom’s atmosphere managed to finally bring out the secrets in them. Their skin burned and the air around them seemed to spark...and then...they had been changed. New wings, a set of horns?

A magical chain shot out from the empty room and dragged the creature back in, the metal gates slamming back down and locking itself into place. Diavolo and Barbatos seemed to show up out of thin air. The prince was booming in laughter while the butler tilted his head in amusement.

“So I was right! I had a feeling,” The Demon Lord started. “Right before he went into slumber, my father had this grand plan to try to create half demon hybrids, although...I thought it had been declared unsuccessful...but you…” Something shone in his eyes, something like he’d just found something he thought had been long lost. “You are my kin! My family! Human and Demon! Exactly the sort of thing to help bring all our worlds together!”

Lucifer

This man has not been surprised by anything in centuries, whether it be due to his wits or drastically low expectations. But this...he wasn’t even sure he was seeing correctly. The human he had thought was weak and fragile suddenly had one pair of leathery bat wings and a set of horns curling around the back of their head. And...what had Diavolo just said?...Family?...Half demon?

First off, he has to drag the young prince away for a disappointed and thorough review of this ridiculously dangerous plan of his. What if he had been wrong? What if the human--or...half human--had died?! Secondly, what did this mean for the exchange program now that it’d turned out the human wasn’t quite so human after all?

For the first time in a long while...he was unprepared how to handle this. Of course, Diavolo was elated and too caught up in the excitement of things to pay any mind to Lucifer’s woes.

This would be...an adventure…

He’ll admit, he tried ignoring it at first, hoping that if he simply kept MC under wraps and out of dangerous situations, they’d keep the demon half under control. However, those plans were quickly dashed when one evening they’d sneezed at dinner, their wings manifesting out of thin air and smacking Lucifer square in the face. With their awakened demon powers unchecked, their own worst danger was themselves. So there was only one thing left he could do.

He’d have to train them.

The thought of having to devote even more time to work nearly drove him mad, but he quickly discovered that the time teaching MC was...heartwarming. Satan had been so hell-bent on teaching himself when he grew into his own form that Lucifer hadn’t taken someone under his wings like this since the Celestial Realm. It rapidly got to the point where he’d look forward to his sessions with MC.

“You’re going to want to spread your wings wide and catch as much air under them as you can in one swoop. Flailing won’t get you anywhere,” Lucifer explained, feeling the half-human grip his hand tightly as they stood at the edge of the roof.

They squeezed their eyes shut with fear, but he could feel their heart pumping with adrenaline at the excitement. “What if I fall?”

“You won’t. But, on the chance you do, I’ll catch you.” He released their fingers and stepped off the ledge, falling down for the briefest of moments before his wings outstretched and he fluttered up, remaining stagnant in the same spot in the sky a few feet away from the precipice. “Alright, come on. Those wings aren’t just for decoration you know.” MC was wary, nearly petrified with fear. He sighed, reaching out his hand towards them despite being so far from them. “Trust me.” With a breath, they closed their eyes and pushed their body off the ground with a single flap. It was choppy, and the more they panicked, the more distressed their wings became. But they moved forward, eyes glued to the ground far below them. Once they were in reach of Lucifer’s hand, they pulled him close, face planted in his chest while clinging onto him for dear life. “See, you did it,” he beamed, chest swelling with pride.

The longer he held them against him, the more they were able to get used to how hovering felt, the more the fear melted away. They pulled apart from him, managing to stay level with him. “I...did...I’m-I’m flying.”

Their pure awe and obvious statement elicited a chuckle from him. “You are. Quite an experience isn’t it? Come along now, you still have those new extensions to break in, and let me tell you, there’s nothing quite like a peaceful soar under the stars.”

Under his tutelage, MC would have themselves under control in no time.

Mammon

Of course he was shocked, why wouldn’t he be?! His little human was...half demon? What was the point?! How was he supposed to protect them, to be the world to them, to...He felt a little betrayed. But then again...he took a moment to ponder this new discovery. Diavolo’s family? Royalty? The potential access to the Demon King’s funds?! He and his pact-mate were one small step away from the most Grimm he’s ever seen! He sulked for a little bit but then was perhaps the most excited of the bunch. Well, save for Diavolo.

The profits! The benefits! The schemes! Glorious treasures and buckets of money were all he could think about for a while. That was, until he noticed them nearly tripping on their own wings and getting things snagged in their horns. At the end of the day...this was still MC, still his...friend, and now it seemed he had more reason to protect them than ever.

But money was still on the table...if MC wanted it to be anyway.

As shocking as it was, he’d been taking a lot of the blame and brunt of MC’s mistakes. Wings accidentally popped out and broke a vase? He’d comforted them as they panicked and tried to convince Lucifer it was his doing. Horns manifesting themselves in the middle of the night and shredding their bedding? He’d pay for a replacement. After all, what kind of lousy ‘first’ demon could he be if he couldn’t even look after MC despite appearances? He was still pleased there were things he could do for them, that there was a reason to keep him around.

Half-demon or no, MC was still his “stupid human”.

Shaking his head, he allowed himself a heavy sigh and a shrug of his shoulders as he looked down at MC, struggling to free themselves from a tangle of curtains. However they got themselves in this position, only his father knew. Their wing was wrapped in the fabric and one of their horns snagged, unable to let them escape. “I thought I told ya to avoid dangly things till you can control this form of yours.” Despite his best attempts at looking disappointed, he couldn’t hold back his laughter any longer, his bubbly chuckles bringing a blush to MC’s embarrassed face.

“Don’t laugh, just help me out!”

“That’s notta very nice tone to have for the only person around to help, ya know,” he teased, smirking down at them with a glint in his eyes.

They groaned, tugging once again at the curtain that seemed to have a death grip on the rod despite their struggle. Their wing got bound tighter in the shift, causing them to wince and Mammon to drop his smile. “Mammon, please…”

He dropped to his knees and grabbed their face with his hand as he kept them steady. Tearing a bit at the hole they’d already made with their horn, he helped get their head free. MC wrapped their arms around his neck and pressed their face against his chest while he busied himself observing the mess they’d gotten themselves in. “Man, how’d you even manage this…? It’s gonna have to go.”

“The wing?!” MC shouted, eyes wide with fear.

“Nah, you silly human, the curtain.” Gripping the tear, he pulled his hands apart, the sharp sound of breaking seams cracking through the room. The bottom half of the drapes had successfully been separated. With it, MC already felt the pressure lessen. “There we are,” he announced, unwrapping them till they were finally free. MC stretched their wings and grinned with relief. “What would you do without the Great Mammon, huh?”

There would be plenty of mistakes to come, but Mammon would always be by their side to help them out of it...if he hadn’t helped get them there in the first place.

Levi

OMG are you kidding?! This is exactly like the plot in ‘I Had No Idea Who I Was Till I Awoke In A Strange Land And Now I Have Secret Powers! And Oh, Turns Out The Prince Is My Half Brother!’, it couldn’t get any closer than that! The twist! The shock! It was like he was living in a real life fantasy! (Apparently being a demon and constantly surrounded by magic and spells doesn’t quite fulfill his expectations)

Honestly, he’s having a little meltdown in his head, which is obvious to the others due to his fervent muttering and the eyes that never seem to focus. He thinks they’re cool already, so cool, but now they’re even better! Better than him! A cute human with now the powers and features of a demon, and technically a royal?! He can’t compete with that! How are they ever going to look at him the same again? They even have wings! He doesn’t have those! Envy hardly even begins to describe his feelings.

He needs to go have some time to cool down and clear his head, but when he comes back, he’ll be ready to call them a normie again.

His...fickle and crippling emotions drives him to avoid MC for a while. He doesn’t know how to approach them anymore. What if they’d suddenly changed? What if they didn’t need him or want him around? Endless what-if scenarios ran through his head, not even TSL seemed to help. But, he had to come out of his room eventually. If not out of sheer loneliness, because he’d finally ran out of health-items (aka food and water).

Besides...while he does his best to convince others that 2D is supreme, he can’t deny that he’s missed his friend, his Henry, immensely.

During one of his supposed “supply raids”, Levi passed MC’s room, peering in through the open door. It was mid-day, well into school hours, meaning everyone but him should be gone, but...MC was there, sitting on their bed. They scrolled through apps on their phone, refreshing, closing and opening the same apps over and over again before finally setting their D.D.D. aside. He noticed they looked...bored...and lonely. A moment like this would’ve been the perfect time to throw the door open wide and go comfort them...that’s what anime characters usually did...it’s something his brothers had no issue with. But his anxiety overwhelmed him, and he instead tried to speed past the door.

Apparently alongside their new features, MC had gained a keener sense of awareness. They quickly turned their head, watching the blur of him speed past their door. “Levi! Wait!” Dashing out into the hallway, their wing jammed against the doorframe, causing them to tumble to the floor. A sharp intake of air was sucked through their teeth, and Levi’s panic triumphed over his unease.

“MC! Hey, are-are you alright?” He got to his knees beside them, his hands hovering over them but not having the courage to follow-through.

“Y-yeah, I’m still not quite used to these yet,” MC frowned, curving their own wing around their body to rub at the sore spot.

Lip twitching, he focused on an interesting spot in the carpet before speaking. “S-so, why...why are you home and not at RAD?”

“Diavolo and Lucifer...thought it would be best that I stay at home until I get...adjusted,” They explained, their voice sounding low and distant.

There were so many things he wished he would’ve said. ‘I’m sorry’, ‘well, at least you aren’t alone’, ‘you’ll get the hang of things in no time’. But what he really said was, “O-oh.” And now here they were in some awkward silence. Somehow, Levi had come up with the idea that MC would now be one of the most popular people in the realm. Demons fawning over them, their life instantly changed, a life they didn’t need him in. But here they were, lonely like he was, stuck inside like he was. “D-do-do you,” he stuttered. “Do you want to hang out in-hang out in my room?”

A familiar smile painted onto their face, and it made his chest tighten. “If you’re okay with it, then sure!”

He’d missed them. “Okay! You remember that show we watched last week? They came out with a new episode! Oh, and-and some new figures I ordered arrived, you can help unbox them with me if you want!” He helped them rise to their feet. “But uh...I can’t have you knocking over things in my room…” He released his tail, blushing as he carefully wrapped it a few times around MC’s torso, keeping their twitching wings carefully pinned against their back.

Even though they’d transformed and been announced as Diavolo’s half-sibling...some things just didn’t change.

Satan

Very intrigued, so much so he began sputtering off questions immediately. How did this come about? How long is their lifespan? How powerful are they? What’s their soul like? How does the pact work? Are they resistant to demon and human weaknesses? Will they have some inheritance of the kingdom? He’s throwing out so many inquiries, even Diavolo has a hard time keeping up.

The only thing the prince could tell Satan was that he didn’t know. The prince had never come into contact with a demon/human offspring before, he wasn’t even sure if there were others out there. Even if there were, the hybrids themselves probably wouldn’t even know. After all, it wasn’t until their arrival to the Devildom till MC’s powers had been ignited. Satan, unsatisfied with the lack of information, decided that he’d have to record, document, and discover everything himself.

Which meant MC would hardly be out of his sight.

Someone has to almost restrain him from experimenting too much on them, but he’s practically vibrating with excitement. Unexplored knowledge, something new for him to pursue. He decides to start off easy and safe, and by that he means taking MC into his room to have a deep interview session with them, not letting them go till they’ve told him every aspect of their lives up till now. Not only did he learn a lot about them that day, but he remembered that despite his vast knowledge...there was too much he didn’t know.

Their updated appearance didn’t change his feelings about them, and he’d control his curiosity for the most part on behalf of their sake...and health. Although, not even Diavolo himself could get rid of the temptation completely.

“MC!” Satan exclaimed, bringing in an armful of items into their room with a genuine gleeful curl to his lips. He set things down on their bed, items that...MC was wary about, but it was so difficult to deny him this when he was so elated about the whole thing. Plus, he’d given them endless hours of attention, and MC would be lying to themselves if they said they didn’t enjoy it. “Now, before we continue...what are your thoughts on poison?” Singling out a vial, he presented it to the exchange student. “Or rather, I suppose the proper term would be ‘being poisoned’.”

MC let out a loud exhale, shifting their shoulders as their wings twitched against them. “Satan, you know I’m very happy to help you with your research, but I’m not guzzling poison on the off chance that I have a resistance for it.”

He swiftly pulled out another tiny glass bottle. “Even if I have the antidote right here?” MC’s eyebrows lowered. “No? Alright,” Satan conceded, “We can come back to this later.” Next he put on a thick pair of oven mitts, pulling out a set of tongs as he tilted his head back and reached into the box. MC’s thoughts raced with ideas of what this dangerous item could be. And then...Satan pulled out a Holy Book.

“Wait, really? Just a book?” MC couldn’t help but huff over the irony of Satan being afraid of a book. “I’m pretty sure I’ve touched one before.”

His face scrunched up in annoyance at being teased. “It’s not just any old book, MC, it’s not like demons reel back at any mention of our father. This one has been blessed by Simeon.” The demon of wrath brought it over, holding it within reach. With that...MC hesitated a bit. They wouldn’t get burned right? They at one point had been blessed directly by the angel! Taking a deep breath, they held out a single finger, letting it drift slowly toward the cover. Breath held, teeth clenched, they touched the holy book with their fingertip. Nothing, not even a tingling sensation, however, in a bit of revenge, they reeled back, exclaiming as they cradled their hand near their chest.

Satan got so startled, he flung the book to the side, rushing over to grab MC’s wrist. “Hold on, hold on, let me see, let me-” He observed their skin, noticing no irritation, and then picked up on the mocking smirk on their face. Lowering his eyes and head, he took the hint. After all, even them just acting as if they were in pain reminded him that there was no way he could put them in danger. “You’ve bested me, no more tests…”

“No more dangerous tests,” MC corrected, watching him splutter as they booped the end of his nose with the finger they’d ‘burnt’.

Together, with his wits and MC’s patience, they’d discover what new surprises half-demon had to offer.

Asmo

Shrieking with surprise, Asmo nearly fainted. The sleek horns, the velvety wings! He’d already adored MC from the get-go but now he was obsessed. He ran over and jumped up and down in excitement, begging to touch their new features. With permission, he ran his hands all over them. The horns were smooth, sharp, but he could tell they weren’t as strong as they should be, like newborn demon horns. The wings were powerful, beautiful. He ran his hand over the sheer skin and heard MC gasp. Extremely sensitive, as they should be.

Did someone say shopping spree? Because he did! They’re going to need new clothes for their form. He can’t stand to see them try to tuck their wings under their usual shirts, and of course they’d have to replace a few outfit casualties as they’d been either rendered to shreds or riddled with holes. Getting stuff done with their new demon features is a whole new ballgame than they’re used to!

But they had nothing to worry about, Asmo is there to teach them all about their new body.

MC, of course, is a bit embarrassed at first, but without having anyone else to really depend on, and having zero knowledge on this type of stuff, they look to him for help with the delicate things. He helps them get dressed till they’re used to it. He helps wash and clean them, teaching them proper methods for horn and wing care/hygiene. Most of all, he really assures them that what they’re feeling is natural. Ever since the transformation, their wings have been twitchy and their horns have been infuriatingly irritated.

He sympathizes, he remembers what it was like, he remembers the shock of it all. If only he had someone there to help him and his brothers through it when they’d changed. He won’t let that stress happen to MC, it’s not healthy!

The scraping and scratching could be heard from outside their room. Asmo’s chest filled with pity. As he opened the door, he observed them rub their horns against the bed frame. Gashes and missing chunks ruined the carved wood. As much as it pained him, he found himself scolding the exchange student anyway. “MC!” He’d left for just a few minutes, a few! And already they’d begun to do exactly what he warned them not to do.

Eyes watery, they looked up to him with a painful expression on their face. “It won't stop, Asmo!”

He pursed his lips, unable to be too harsh when he knew how irritating growing horns could be. “I know, darling, but your poor bed!” Placing down the things he’d brought over, he squatted down in front of them and cupped their cheek as he turned their head from side to side. “And your poor horns!” The top thin layer coating the new pesky things sticking out of their head now had small splinters of wood stuck in them. He tutted at MC, glad he’d had the foresight to bring along tweezers. Gently, he guided them up to their bed, sitting behind them as he began to pluck the splinters out. Anytime his hands got close, MC instinctively moved to bump their horns against him. “Try not to move, darling, the faster I get these out the faster you’ll feel better.”

“I’m sorry, Asmo,” MC groaned, tightening their neck and shoulders as they focused on remaining still.

“Nothing to worry about, dear. You’re taking this new beautiful form of yours extremely well, all things considered.” Once the last sliver of wood had been removed, he brushed his hands over their smooth horns, rubbing the base of them between his fingers. They jutted their head against his hands, taking a deep breath at the sensation. But he wasn’t done yet, he’d brought over some special solution to encourage horn growth. Smearing the mixture in his hands, he then began to massage it into the new protrusions. They melted into his touch, grateful for some relief, but eventually gasping when the touch of his soft skin was exchanged with an odd firmness. Nearly purring, Asmo had changed into his own demon form to rub his horns against MC’s. It was like finally being able to scratch that one itch just out of their reach. “Better?” He cooed, giggling when all MC could do was hum in response, shifting their head up and down, faces side to side as they worked to rub their horns together at every angle.

Demon form? Human form? He loved MC either way with everything in between, and he hoped he could help them feel that way too.

Beel

He started off more concerned than anything. Was he one of the only ones upset that they had been locked away and almost attacked in order to get this result? In fact, while everyone was taking their time with their own reactions and revelations, he went over to MC and made sure they felt safe. They’d been frightened enough to change without meaning to, and the added swarm of information and the shock of the sudden change drove them into a fit. Making sure they were okay was more important than discussing their new looks.

Once everyone had settled and Beel made sure MC was home and comfortable, then he started thinking more about it. Does that mean they were stronger than normal humans? Could they start to do more things demons could do? He started thinking about all the foods he adored but were deemed poisonous to humans. Maybe they could eat those! He could share some of his favorites! But...he didn’t want to risk it.

Without knowing for sure what they could and could not handle, he’d continue to treat MC as if they were a normal human anyway, which MC greatly appreciated sometimes.

Although, Beel quickly discovered that continuing to act like MC was still a typical human...wouldn’t quite work out in his favor either. MC had quickly started to figure out what they were capable of, spiraling more and more out of control the more invincible they felt they’d become, which almost gave this boy a heart attack. Once, they’d figured out they could climb walls, but ended up getting their claws stuck in the ceiling and had to wait for Beel to tug them free. Another time, he’d walked in just in time, pulling MC away just before they could grab onto one of Satan’s cursed books.

He’d have to watch them like a hawk to make sure they didn’t accidentally dive headfirst into danger.

“Where’s MC?” Beel asked his twin, returning from a trip to the kitchen, the remnants of his snack still remaining on his chin.

Belphie looked up from his pillow, eyes still glazed over with sleep. “Hmm? Oh...they must’ve left.” As he yawned and blinked away tired tears, the demon of sloth shrugged. “Last I remember, they said something about wanting to pet a puppy.” Nestling back into his pillow, he grumbled. “But they know...Lucifer won’t let us have any...ani...” And then he was back asleep.

Beel wiped away the last few crumbs off his face, licking them off of his fingers before feeling a jolt of panic. No! Certainly MC hadn’t meant…! Bolting, he rushed past some of his brothers with the intensity and muscle of a charging bull. Luckily, he caught up to them just as they attempted to go inside the crypt that was home to big grumpy Cerberus. He didn’t even give MC a chance to notice him before he grabbed them by the back of their shirt and slung them over his shoulder, one arm pinning their wings to their back so they couldn’t struggle.

“B-Beel, wait! I just wanted to play with him! Hey! Hold on!” Their pleas were falling on deaf ears, but they were stronger than he remembered, allowing them to break free and leave him staggering for just a moment. That moment was long enough for them to fly up to the rafters, a frisky shimmer reflecting off their eyes.

Beel folded his arms, starting off with a stern stare. “MC, it’s too dangerous.”

“I can handle it! I know it! Please, Beel?” He watched them leap from beam to beam, his heart thumping wildly with every movement. “I just have this energy! This urge to do something crazy!” He blinked, taking in the words for a moment before realizing that all his hand-holding and protectiveness had stifled them and bottled up all their demonic urges till they finally boiled over. Everyone had been so focused on all the other aspects that he forgot how badly demons loved to just play.

His face fell as he felt disappointment in himself for not noticing soon enough. He needed to stop constantly fearing for them. Then, he raised his head, nodding to them as he spoke. “Tackle me,” he stated.

MC tilted their head. “What?”

“Tackle me. Come at me as hard as you can. You won’t hurt me, I promise.” MC took some time to think, before a lively smile formed on their face. They dived from the rafters towards him, skidding against the floor as Beel avoided them with a single side-step. Beel gave MC a moment to figure out that he’d dodged before running away. Of course, he wasn’t at his full speed, giving MC a chance to catch up easily. He’d almost made it all the way up to his own room before a heavy weight threw itself on his shoulders. It wasn’t enough to send him to the floor, but he had to catch himself from falling over. MC crawled over him, playful growls rumbling in their chest as they continued to try to force him to the floor. “Not quite,” Beel laughed, pulling them off of his body and placing them aside. “Let’s try again.”

Until it got out of they’re system, Beel hoped he could be a suitable replacement for all the chaotic things they wished to do.

Belphie

The first thing he did when he caught eyes on MC was blink and then sigh. What a crazy dream he was having. Getting trapped in the colosseum, almost getting mauled on by a fierce monster? And now MC was before him with wings and horns and Diavolo had just announced that he was essentially MC’s half brother? Yeah right. Someone needed to wake him up already, this dream was getting too weird.

It wasn’t till they all got home and got a good night’s sleep till he realized it was real. Waking up to go to breakfast and see that they still were having a hard time with their form? It wasn’t a dream...they were...half demon?

These crazy feelings and questions had already left him exhausted, and he just had gotten up from a solid 14 hours of sleep.

It takes him a while to adjust, after all, he’s got some baggage from events best-not-mentioned, and this new predicament has left him feeling pretty guilty. Although, something about it gives him hope. At one point, he’d adored the human world, and seeing that the human he’d begun to adore was also half demon? Maybe it was a sign that humanity wasn’t so terrible after all. Maybe Diavolo was right about the whole...peace between worlds thing, as tiring as it sounded. As long as he didn’t have to do much about it, he didn’t mind. It didn’t affect him much, right? He could still sleep. However...cuddling with MC now proved to be more of a hassle than usual. Whether their wings would pop out at random times and push him away, or their horns ending up almost poking an eye out, he wanted to find a solution quickly.

The one thing he refused to give up was comfortable naps with MC.

“Beeelllphiiie,” they whined. “I want to go to bed, this isn’t necessary.”

He ignored them, trying to push past the fact that he found them especially adorable when they were tired. But he felt it was absolutely necessary, after all, this was the third time those pesky horns of theirs nearly left a scratch mark on his cheek. He couldn’t believe how inconvenient this was for him. (He’s kinda a brat like that, but he does his best) He continued to work, pulling multiple fluffy socks over their horns, stuffed with layers of the filling from the pillow they’d accidently torn open. “I’m almost done.”

“Belphie!” MC shook their head, reaching up in an attempt to remove his work. “It feels weird.”

Grasping their wrists, he frowned. “So does getting poked with these in the middle of the night,” he quipped. His exasperation quickly turned into smug laughter as he observed his handiwork. With a palm, he squeezed the new protection over MC’s horns, unable to feel the sharpness of them.

MC vigorously shook their head again, but the padding stayed. “I don’t like it.”

“Then learn to control your form,” he retorted, dragging them back over to bed, holding in laughter again as they stumbled, the added weight to their head throwing them off balance.

They didn’t take kindly to all his back talk and cheekiness. Grabbing his pillow from their bed, they decked him over the head with it. “If you can’t be nice, you can leave,” MC huffed, crawling back into bed with their back turned to him, attempting to find a comfortable position. Their lack of decent sleep after this whole thing had happened had left them in a grumpy mood. That, and well, maybe he did push things too far.

“I’m sorry.” From sour to sweet in seconds. He sat on the bed, pressing his hand against their shoulder blades. “I know you can’t help it. It must be uncomfortable, huh?” He could recall what it was like, his horns and new tail had bothered him for quite some time after the change. He rubbed their back and shoulders, pleased with himself when MC turned over on their other side to face him.

“I’m so tired,” they whispered.

“I know.” Belphie pulled the covers back over them, settling in his own spot beside them before giving their fluffy horns one last squeeze. “Let’s get some sleep.”

If there was anything he could help with, it was the luxury of comfort. Until MC settles back into their own skin, he’ll make the transition as cozy for them as possible.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me headcanons #obey me imagines #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me levi #obey me satan #obey me asmo #obey me beel #obey me belphie

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stovetuna · 3 years

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Oh! Oh! Your Tony-finally-accepts-Steve-Loves-him fic was so lovely. A+ 🥺

And the reverse-ish! The first time Steve realizes Tony doesn’t actually believe him when he says I love you and how Steve both reacts and comes to term with the situation (does he plan on talking about it? Love offensive with super romantic dates? Figure out that the solution to this problem a marathon not a sprint?)

aaaaaahhh I am gonna EXPIRE

can you imagine?? the moment I think about it my heart absolutely BREAKS in the best, most bittersweet way, because oh, Steve. you really thought the moment you kissed Tony the first time—you were sitting next to him on the living room sofa, a whole empty seat on either side of you because you were so unnecessarily close together, but then you were struck by the thought not close enough, and you were in the middle of listening to and watching Tony watch the Lost in Space reboot (so many science critiques you didn't understand a lick of but you are more than happy to play audience to the things Tony cares about, loudly) when you leaned forward and placed a lingering kiss on the corner of Tony's motormouth, which apparently was all the invitation Tony needed to crawl into your lap and press his warm, warm, warm lips to yours and kiss the breath out of you—he understood.

because it was so easy to go from best friends to romantic partners, and you had years of friendship between you to hearken back to. Plenty of moments when you thought you'd made it clear to Tony that you loved him, that you cared about him, that you admired and respected and yes, deep down (not that deep, really) were very much attracted to him.

you thought.

so when you kiss the first time, you think he knows. when you go on your first real date and play footsie all night under the table and hold hands the whole walk home, you think he knows. when, a few days later, he slides inside you, deep and hard and wet, and butterfly-kisses the tears from your eyes and tells you how beautiful you are as he fucks you, wailing, into the mattress, you know, down to your soul, to the basest atoms of your existence, that Tony loves you as much as you love him.

but something isn't right, because even as weeks, months go by, and you move into Tony's suite and fall asleep wrapped around him almost every night (except those when he's in another country, and the bed is almost as cold as the ice, or when he's consumed by some project in the workshop and loses track of time), and you tell each other "I love you" out loud multiple times, and say it without words in a million other ways, you get the feeling that Tony. doesn't. believe you?

you're baffled. genuinely, it doesn't make sense. you've loved each other for years. even when you fought, bloody and fierce and deeply, horrifically wrong, you loved each other. it wouldn't have hurt nearly as much—felt like a piece of you being ripped away, phantom pain aging you inwardly until every step in any direction that wasn't toward Tony was agony—if you didn't.

but even though Tony says it back, and he does, every time, even when you're yelling at each other after a battle goes "tits-up," thank you, Logan, he has this look in his eyes, and the only word you've been able to put to it is doubt.

at first you think it means Tony doubts you—your feelings, your intentions, yourself and all the baggage that entails—but that thought quickly passes. because you know he doesn't. you know, from experience, that Tony's worst thoughts and feelings very rarely have anything to do with anyone other than himself. which means Tony doubts himself. maybe even reality. not in a "you might be a Skrull" kind of way, but in a "this is too good to be true" kind of way.

and doesn't that just break your fucking heart.

for months you watch this doubt flicker like a guttering little flame in Tony's bright blue eyes, every time you say "I love you, Tony" with your voice. it's never there when you're brushing your teeth next to other in the morning, bumping hips and giggling like the children you never got to be; it's not there when you silently hand him his coffee and kiss him on the temple on his way out the door to a morning meeting, grousing on the phone even as he blows a kiss to you before the elevator doors close; it's not there when you sit down next to him after a battle, on the steps of some middle-of-nowhere courthouse that just got blown up by some no-name villain, taking unspeakable comfort in the radiating heat coming off the armor that kept Tony safe in combat, and without having to ask or say anything at all Tony takes the helmet off and you lean your foreheads together and just breathe each other's air, too relieved and too exhausted to kiss; it's not there when you make love to him, slowly, excruciatingly sweet, your hips rolling in a steady, undulating wave between Tony's long, golden thighs, his arms loose around your neck, his gorgeous voice gone raspy and quiet from screaming through two orgasms already, and you tell him to look at you as you come together one last time.

it's only when you say it. put words to it. make it real. that's when that banked ember of doubt flickers to life, and it feels like you have to start all over again. which isn't a hardship, per se. not at all, really. it's an honor and a privilege and an absolute pleasure to be a part of Tony's life like this. it's also frustrating, and infuriating, and dangerous, but that was always the case. the only difference is now, you can have make-up sex.

you fight about it first. it starts out in earnest, a forthright—if frighteningly vulnerable—conversation over dinner that turns into a shouting match to rival anything from the war that of course gets cut short by the Avengers alarm going off and having to Assemble before you can clear the air. he almost dies in the battle, short-circuited by an exceptionally advanced EMP that takes out the RT (and whoo, boy does that make you spiral, thinking back, to the moment you did that to Tony, almost killed him, and thinking those thoughts while you keep vigil at his bedside for days makes you wish harder than you ever have before in your life that you could drink yourself to death), and you're too relieved when he opens his eyes and the first word out of his mouth is your name, like he's the one who should be relieved, to bring it up again.

you love him. he loves you. it works. better than that, it's good. and eventually—quickly, even—you learn. you learn tell him in every which way you can think of, without words, how much you love him, and why. you text him pictures from your runs through Central Park (he makes the photo you sent him that spring, of the adolescent raccoon emerging from a hollowed-out tree, his lock screen for a week before he changes it back to a picture of you in bed drooling onto your pillow). you help him take off the armor when he's dead on his feet. you feed him. you train with him. you listen to him ramble on about bad movie science and cheer when Matt Damon mentions him in that Mars movie. (You literally cry laughing when Tony picks up the phone at the end of the movie and calls Matt Damon and tells him to text him next time, "I'll come pick you up, just stop getting lost in fucking space, asshole!")

you kiss his scarred fingers, with their fresh cuts and scrapes and bruises from working in the shop, with a reverence. you draw baths for him and don't join, even though it's one of your favorite things to do in the world, because you can just tell Tony is going through something and he needs the space to work it out for himself. you're always there to fish him out when the water gets cold, and by that time Tony's ready to tell you about whatever's eating him.

you call him every foul, dirty name in the book when you fuck him loudly against the wall and sob yourself hoarse when he makes love to you for what feels like hours, so slow and deep and steady you honestly lose track of how many times you come. you clean him up after and tuck him in. you kiss him on the forehead before you go on your morning run, every morning without fail (except for those when you're apart, and you still, even after almost two years, catch yourself mid-motion sometimes, about to kiss empty air—you text Tony about it and he laughs every time).

you learn to be patient. you learn to show more than you tell. because you realize that Tony was lied to his entire life, about so many things. Lied to his face about who he was, who he was going to be, who he never would be allowed to be. Told over and over again by liars and cheats and villains and friends and lovers and family that he wasn't worth the effort of loving. that he would never be loved for anything other than the black credit card in his wallet, the cars in his garage, the houses and the private jets and the clothes and the money and the things he invented—the things he made—that were supposed to help people but only ever ended up killing them.

money, and blood.

it's no wonder he doubts.

so you set yourself to the long and genuinely joyous (if at times frustrating) task of convincing Tony that not only do you love him, more than you've loved anything else in your life, ever will, but he is lovable. not worthy of love, not deserving, and he is those things, but inherently—he is a sweet, caring, kind, fierce, sexy, strong, dangerous, incredible, dorky, suave, fumbling genius of a man and he is loved for those things.

it takes time. good things always do.

you've had a little velvet box hidden away in your bottom bedside drawer for four months when Tony wakes up and sees you in bed with him, realizes you've been watching him sleep—so peacefully, the furrow between his brows erased, as you play with his slightly overgrown hair (you wish he'd keep it, but it's a hazard, in your line of work). you kiss him on the forehead and say good morning, sweetheart, because it is, even if it is pouring down rain outside.

maybe especially because it's raining outside. because here you are, high up among thick grey clouds that smother every inch of the city, so it's just you two, in this bed, together in your own little world, and you're watching that stubborn ember of doubt in Tony's eyes finally get washed away.

read part one

#responses #rachel writes fic #stevetony #steve rogers #tony stark #stony fic #superhusbands #PHEW OKAY TIME TO GO CRY NOW #I can't remember the last time I wrote something in second person?? WHO AM I

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