#no 19

Luffy x Reader

"Back off!"  You held up your sword.

"What's wrong, [Y/n]?" Luffy tried approaching you but pointed your weapon directly at him.

"Keep your claws away from me!"

This is part larger fill that's already on Ao3 if you wanna read the whole thing.

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“Catmor can’t see him,” Arthur whispers, and the secret Arthur thinks they all know but won’t voice haunts his sentence.  

Merlin tried to hide the impact the collar has on him, and he’s been doing a good job. But he stays too close to the Camelot knights and they all noticed the way he struggled while wearing it. A struggle the other slaves – temporary or not – aren’t sharing. Merlin’s reaction is unique, and the answer came to Arthur the second night as he watched Merlin sleep. 

The collar looked like jewelry, but it was iron.  

Not pure. Too much gold had been pressed into, or some other ore in its forging. But enough. He’d whispered it to Leon and Gwaine just that morning, a simple statement of fact. “There’s a chunk of iron in the collar.” 

It took Gwaine longer to catch on, but when he did, he simply nodded. Way more accepting than Arthur’s light night musing, or Leon’s pressed lips.  

Iron is known to have properties that only harm one type of creature.  

If Catmor knows, Arthur has no clue, but for all that magic hasn’t been a topic of conversation the past three days, there is a dearth of it in Midden. Catmor seems smart enough, or at least his backers are, to know most kingdoms in the Isles don’t approve of magic. He could be building affinity between Midden and the other Five Kingdoms, only to bring sorcerers from across the sea to launch an attack next year. Or he could truly see no place for magic in his kingdom.  

Either way, he doesn’t want him to find out about Merlin. Nor any of the other kingdom’s emissaries.  

“If you leave this room for breakfast,” Gwaine snarls, “Merlin will have to be at your side, collared. We don’t know how much he’ll recover tonight, but he’ll sure as hell need more than a night’s sleep.” 

“He didn’t eat supper,” Arthur confesses. “I tried to sneak him something at the feast, but I don’t think he noticed.” 

“No,” says Leon. He reaches for Merlin’s boots and pulls them off.  

@whumptober-archive

Fao and Harrison’s relationship had gotten off to a rocky start, that was certain, but after that they’d become hesitant friends, getting closer and closer as they got older. Hars obviously cared about Finn, about the family, and now he was living with Steve, he’d managed to pull himself together, get some half decent grades at school, stop drinking so much. That in turn made his relationship easier with Fao, who’d helped him through his uni interview prep. He’d gotten offers for a couple of places, which really surprised him, but Fao had told him sincerely he’d never doubted him. 

He often spent time in Fao’s flat, a way to get away from Steve without him worrying, and he enjoyed the older boy’s company. Fao had a no alcohol rule, but they had fun in other ways, watching films (and occasionally sharing a joint). They were sat chatting one evening that summer, not long before Hars was due to move up North, on the little balcony out the back of Fao’s flat, watching the sun go down. 

Day 19. Prompt: Knees buckling.

Series: Poyraz karayel @whumptober @whumptober-archive

Follow up to Whumptober No. 9

Lancelot flinched as the wet cloth touched his exposed side.

"Did that hurt?" Merlin asked worriedly.

"No, just cold."

Lancelot lay on his side, head pillowed under one folded arm as Merlin draped cool, soaked towels over the feathered burns he'd sustained from a lightning strike a few days ago. His heart was still prone to random flutters, and so he was on prolonged bed rest per Gaius's orders. He was told the burns would eventually fade, but for now they were still raw and hot to the touch. Thus Merlin's ministrations to attempt to alleviate them.

But with the lower temperatures after the storm, submitting himself to cold, wet coverings wasn't exactly pleasant for the rest of his body.

Merlin turned one of the other towels over, renewing the cold sensation against Lancelot's skin. When the heat of his burns leeched the rest of the coolness away, Merlin would soak it again and place it back on his skin.

Lancelot shivered and tried to distract himself by lifting his free arm to inspect the unusual markings that had branched up his chest and down the limb. They looked like the forking splays of frost across a window, save for the fact these were red.

"They're kinda beautiful, in a strange way," Merlin remarked.

Lancelot couldn't disagree. "Touched by the hand of God," he murmured.

"No kidding. It's almost a shame they should fade."

"People don't take visible signs of otherness well," Lancelot commented.

"True."

They fell quiet for a moment, save for the slosh of water in the bucket as Merlin wrung out another cloth.

"But you're right," Lancelot added softly. "Some marks are to be remembered."

"I doubt you'll forget this even without the marks," Merlin said. "I certainly won't."

Lancelot hummed and lowered his arm so Merlin could lay the wet cloth over it again. The cold was soothing to the burns themselves, but Lancelot's body started to give a more jerky shiver now.

"Sorry it's so cold," Merlin said, then perked up. "I could try some magic to warm you up."

Lancelot shifted his gaze directly toward his friend. "How is your magic?"

Merlin shrugged one shoulder. "It's fine."

"Merlin."

"I'm not going to accidentally shock your heart again," he said wryly.

"That's good, because it's had enough of that."

Merlin set the cloth in his hands aside and rocked forward on his knees, raising his hand. "May I?"

Lancelot nodded.

Merlin uttered a spell word, and his eyes glowed gold. Lancelot always found it fascinating to watch him perform magic. Other than his eyes, there was no visible sign that anything was happening, but a warmth blossomed in Lancelot's sternum and spread outward, reaching all the way down to his chilled fingertips and toes. His face relaxed into a lazy smile.

"That is nice."

Merlin grinned and went back to frequently changing the wet cloths. "How is it now?"

"Perfectly balanced," Lancelot replied.

-Whumptober day 19-