#— thing i've done by the tail end of last year.

[ssahotchnerr]

Could you write something where someone compliments Hotch for "babysitting" and "helping out" when hes out with his kids and he gets all 😑😑 do you mean parenting my children?

standard parenting

omg LOL cw; dad!aaron, reader is referred to as mom, a ton of domestic fluff, very light suggestiveness (hehe reader and aaron are soo in love <3) wc; 1.2k

"Jack." Aaron moved forward, spotting his son as he climbed up a curved ladder, at the ready if he were to suddenly slip. "Careful."

"I am." He took the last, big step, his hands gripping the supporting bars and landing on the platform safely. "I've done this two times already Dad."

"Help your sister down the slide, okay? I'll meet the two of you at the bottom."

"Okay." He confirmed, beelining down a rattly bridge in the direction of Ellie.

It was approximately 3 pm on a Tuesday, the park filled with the afternoon rush of children freshly out of school. A doctor's appointment had brought Aaron out of the BAU early, and after picking up Jack from school, Ellie from preschool, he figured there was no better way to burn off energy than the playground.

Hopefully it allowed for a quiet, relaxing night at home, with both kids in bed at a decent time.

Aaron stood at the bottom of the slide, peering upwards and squinting - he had regretfully left his sunglasses in the car. Ellie stood at the top, looking a bit lost once her turn was next, the slide intimidatingly large for a newly four-year-old.

"Jack's coming, honey."

It took some convincing; Aaron reassuring her he was right there, there to catch her if she overshot into the mulch. Jack would be right behind her. Further hesitation on her end: Do you want Jack to go first? No. Are you sure you want to go down? Yes.

Finally down came Ellie, giggling profusely and not paying a mind to the static the slide caused (Aaron mentally winced at the sound). Jack followed soon after.

"See, there you go." Aaron praised, hands moving to his hips.

"Again, please please please." Ellie whined gently, looking up at Aaron with her identically adjacent brown eyes. It was something she was beginning to master, the puppy dog look that could cause him to cave within seconds.

He was in for it.

"Sure pumpkin." Aaron grinned down at his little piggy-tail headed daughter. "Just a few more times though, Mom's waiting at home."

"C'mon Ellie. I'll race you." Jack suggested, kicking up dirt as he bolted off without waiting for a distinct answer. She ran after him, as fast as her small legs could carry her.

Aaron called out after him, "The stairs, Jack."

"I know!"

"Cute kids."

A mother - Aaron inferred - commented, falling alongside him. Aaron's eyes continued to track the two of them, ensuring they remained together and stayed far away from any arched ladders. They dashed up the stairs, into the depths of the play structure.

Aaron offered her a friendly smile in return, "Thank you."

"It's nice to see someone so attentive for a change." She huffed, notably an impressed breath. "Most babysitters just sit on the bench on their cell phone."

Aaron's expression dropped; a mix of confusion and dumbfound, his smile gradually fading. The only thing going through his mind: I'm sorry, what?

"Well, I'm not like most babysitters." He frowned, pressing his lips together and eyebrows drawing into a line.

"Good for you." She commended, not taking the hint. A child called out to her, causing her to move forward. "See ya."

She left, but scowl on his face stayed.

It hadn't put him in a bad mood, but rather, a dulled mood. The inference could've been an honest mistake, it most likely was, but it settled funny within him.

Only at Ellie's, 'Daddy look!' did his face brighten up. For them.

-

"Hi Momma!" Ellie bounded into the kitchen, nearly crashing into you and smiling from ear to ear. "We're home!"

Jack added to her status report, voices intertwining. "Dad took us to the park!"

"It looks like you two had fun." You grinned, using the pad of your thumb to swipe away an unblended bout of sunscreen on the side of Jack's nose. You also took note of his grass stained sweats, and the dirt scuff on Ellie's knees.

"We did! Jackers helped me down the slide and Daddy pushed me on the swings-"

"No one pushed me on the swings." Aaron commented, his hand finding the small of your back momentarily as he brushed past.

"That's 'cause you're big." Ellie made a face at her father.

"Can we go again on Saturday?" Jack asked, "I wanna bring my soccer ball."

"We'll have to see what we're up to, bud," Aaron answered, also fetching him a cup of cold water. The car ride consisted of Jack stating how thirsty he was, and how he refused to drink the lukewarm water his bottle held. "But I don't see why not."

Meanwhile, Ellie plopped herself onto the floor, pulling off her shoes and dumping the remnants of lingering mulch onto the floor.

"Hey hey hey let's not do that." You said, your nose scrunching lightly too; the normal kid-stink that followed after an afternoon spent in the sun. "And baths, both of you. Go on, I'll be there in a second."

Ellie's voice carried as she ventured up, something along the lines of bringing her mermaid Barbie in the tub with her. You ruffled Jack's hair gently as he passed, pressing a kiss to his sweaty head.

"You know what someone said to me today?" Aaron asked, turning towards the sink to wash his hands.

"Aren't you forgetting something first?"

He stopped, a knowing smile forming on his face. "How dare I."

Aaron moved forward, hands finding your waist to pull you near, placing his lips onto yours for a few seconds. Albeit how short it was, you savored it; coming home after a long, long day.

Satisfied, "Enlighten me."

He paused to actually wash his hands, flicking the water droplets off once he finished. You tossed him the hand towel that happened to be nearby.

"Someone mistook me for a babysitter."

"What?" You snorted out a laugh.

"Left me speechless." He exasperatedly rolled his eyes, wiping his hands and throwing the towel back onto the counter. "Can you believe that?"

"Well, you know how some people can be." You shrugged. Your statement wasn't much help, but what could you do.

"Oblivious?"

"What prompted it?"

"Standard parenting. I was simply keeping a close eye. The slide made Ellie nervous, Jack was being a bit adventurous today, and the playground itself was a nightmare. Everyone had the same idea I did, it was packed."

You hummed in response, dumping the neglected water from Jack and Ellie's water bottles out. Aaron continued to ramble on.

"And she saw the two of them. Jack - he resembles Haley a bit more, sure. But Ellie?"

"Your twin."

"Exactly." Aaron scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest. "Babysitter. How in the world does that title come to mind before Dad?"

He shook his head as his eyes found the ceiling; utter disbelief.

"You know," you raised an eyebrow, regaining his focus, "you're hot when you're fired up."

"Am I?" Aaron smirked, pulling you in again just as he did before, arm winding behind your back.

"Mom!"

A whine drifted from upstairs, Aaron pulled away from your lips with a comically heavy, defeated sigh.

You shoved him at the chest playfully, grabbing a laugh from him, heading upstairs.

"She, huh." You teased, "Are you sure it wasn't some strategically formed ploy in hopes you were unmarried? Wouldn't be the first time."

He trudged up the stairs behind you, a chuckle shaking through his chest. "I doubt it. She seemed genuine."

"And you would know." You quipped, ends of your mouth turned upwards.

"With my profiling expertise?" He bantered back, playfully patting your behind as you reached the second level. "I'd hope so."

[stu-dyingstudent]

Sakura Haruno fic recs: time travel AU

I'm finally getting around to recommending some good Sakura-centric time travel fics! There are plenty of them out there and they can be kind repetitive, but I always eat them up. Typically speaking, I really don't care much for the whole introduction bit at the start where it's the actual process of her being sent back... So just make it past there before you decide whether or not to continue!!! Also, I'm starting to think this list is getting kinda long, so maybe I'll do a second one?

I've been dying to post some of these fics in a list, so please enjoy!

Started: 2024.08.16

Last Updated: 2024.08.26

note: feel free to check out my master list which has a bunch of Sakura Haruno fic recs (all organized)!

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Sakura - lilac haze || ffn/ao3 || M || minasaku || time travel AU || complete

AU. Non-Canon. Time Travel. Please see inside for full warnings. Cross posted on Ao3. On his deathbed he was granted eternal peace and place to rest for all of time. Of course that was not appealing to him. Ever unpredictable to the end he had a counter offer. One that the Sage had to consider. In which Sakura's going to have a rough time. A really rough time.

If there is one thing I want you to take away from this list, it is this fic right here. I kid you not, Sakura is one of the best fics I have ever read. I have never felt so gutted, so heartbroken, so giddy, so stressed, all from one work. It's a masterpiece all while being criminally underrated. The characterizations and storytelling are beautifully done. You feel for the characters and the relationships formed along the way are truly great. Please share this author some love.

Check TWs before hand!!

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The Misadventures of Kakashi and the Girl From No Where - Goldfishlover73 || ao3 || kakasaku || M || time travel AU || complete

When a girl called Sakura seemingly falls in the sky, Kakashi is skeptical. Far more skeptical than the rest of Team Minato are. War is approaching quickly and this strange girl is leaving more questions than answers in her wake, Kakashi must decide where his trust and loyalties lie in a constantly changing world.

Told in the perspective of Kakashi in his youth! Really interesting take and I love how strong Sakura is in this in addition to the fact that we get to see a different side of Kakashi that we aren't used to.

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Anachronistic Drift  - Elesrea  || ffn || gen || T || time travel AU || incomplete

Her plan was flawless. Save Shisui. Save the world. Time-travel, Sakura-centric AU

Sakura spends years training to be sent back in time and save the world from Sasuke. Whilst masquerading as her younger self, she poses as an unofficial ANBU to stay anonymous in her efforts of changing the shinobi world for the better.

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Tourniquet - lilac haze || ffn || T || minasaku || time travel AU || complete

She was his tourniquet. She stopped the bleeding, she stopped his bleeding. She stopped his pain, his despair, his loneliness. She was the first face he saw. She was the first person he trusted. She was the first person to keep his secret. She was his tourniquet. He did not love her. He only loved the idea of her. SakuraXMinato. Time-Travel Fic. Alt. Universe

I quite honestly think this is a hidden gem amongst time travel AUs since I never see people recommending it, but Touriquet is so good! What's interesting here is that it isn't Sakura that's playing with time, but rather Minato. The night of the Nine-Tails attack, rather than dying, he is sent to the future where post-war Sakura is the one to find him and keep the former Hokage alive. It's a delicate situation and one which is kept a secret from many, but through Minato's depression and difficulties with his new life, Sakura becomes a close confident.

Same author as Sakura! I gotta read more of their works

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Armour-Sleeved Single Hit - thatdamnuchiha || ao3 || T || madasaku || time travel AU || one-shot complete

Sasuke always told Sakura she was weak. Even after she trained with Tsunade for years he only had eyes for Naruto whom he considered strong. She would forever be invisible to him no matter how many mountains she toppled. Being a member of Team Seven despite Sasuke’s refusal to acknowledge her meant she got herself into her fair share of sticky situations. Getting stuck a hundred odd years in the past had to take the cake though. But she was just a weak little girl and compared to the shinobi of old she’d be ridiculously pathetic. Sasuke had said she was weak to him – a modern day shinobi who hadn’t been forced into battle after battle like they did in the Warring Clans Era. Obviously she’d be nothing more than a spec of dirt in the eyes of the Founders.

Sakura manages to find herself in founding-era Konoha! While trying to prove that medical ninja are capable fighters she unknowingly gains the affection of Madara Uchiha. After all, the Uchiha find beauty in strength. Super cute read!

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here are the fruits of your labor (would you like a cherry on top?) - snickiebear || ao3 || M || shisaku || time travel AU || one-shot complete

Shisui smiles and it is unlike any smile she has seen before. She cannot remember the last time she had seen a smile. 

Sakura manages to fix everything and now tries to live her life in a past she doesn't know. Shisui is the first to find her and the two of them form a close relationship that continues through her journey of recovery.

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The Moon Knows Best - darth_healer || ao3 || E || madasaku || time travel AU || complete

The Moon has played a cruel trick on Madara. He's still home, but it's not the same. Instead of a tranquil forest, there's a colorful vibrant village. Instead of the cliffside he knows so well, it's a collection of Senju faces, one of which belongs to his good friend Hashirama. And instead of Hashirama, Madara is saddled with a very interesting, pink-haired girl. MadaSaku in which young Madara goes forward through time.

Madara finds himself far into the future where the first to stumble upon him is Sakura. He's such a brat, but his and Sakura's interactions are rather entertaining.

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In the Magic Hour - summersirius || ao3 || E || minasaku || time travel AU || complete

It's not perfect, but everything is beautiful. —Minato/Sakura

A sharingan mishap lands Sakura in the past where she drops down in front of team Minato. With her hope of returning to the present time dwindling, Sakura excepts her new life and tries to make the best of the situation and the new bonds that come with it. The dynamic between Sakura and the older generation is quite refreshing and her mentor relationship with the former team 7 is great.

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Stumble - writer168 || ao3/ffn || gen || T || time travel AU || complete

Sakura wanted to die.Sasori was fine with staying dead.But it seemed fate had other plans for them, because when they both wake up younger with blood pulsing through their veins, they had to remember how to live again.Time Travel AU

Sasori and Sakura are both sent back in time and they try to make a difference in their respective villages. Told in the perspective of both characters, but primarily Sakura. She ends up forming a pretty sweet bond with Ibiki and Genma (which I love) and they help her through some things. Sakura has a rough time

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A Twist in Time - wolf08 || ffn || sasusaku || T || time travel AU || complete

With Konoha on the verge of destruction, Sakura is sent on a last-resort mission to save her world by travelling to the past. Join her in coping with her old body's shortcomings, testing the natural laws of time, falling in love all over again, and rediscovering who she is.

With Sakura frustrated at being back to where she started in her becoming of a shinobi, she begins to train with Sasuke. This time around in her life, her relationship with her brooding teammate isn't so strained. Pretty cute read imo

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Return & Rehash - SpaceNugget11 || ffn || sasusaku || M || time travel AU || incomplete

"You," Sakura snarled with bared teeth. Sasuke gagged for air, clutching at her forearm, but she only pressed harder into him. Her green eyes crackled, and she wished she could burn him alive with the heat of her anger.

Sasuke and Sakura certainly did not end in their last life on goods terms and it is prevalent from the moment Sakura awakens and attacks her teammate.

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An Inch of Gold - KuriQuinn || ffn || sasusaku || T || time travel AU || complete

Team 7 is sent on a mission to investigate a disturbance outside of the village, where they encounter an unconscious girl in a crater. The mysterious Sarada insists she's a shinobi from the Hidden Leaf trying to rescue her teammates. When the team discovers she possesses a Sharingan, things become even more unbelievable. [Part of the Legacy of Fire Series]

Sarada lands herself back in time all while crashing into another team 7 mission gone wrong. An Inch of Gold is in multiple perspectives, but they're all done quite well. Sasuke and Sakura are obviously rather flustered by the situation and the fact they have to deal with it in front of the team makes it quite entertaining.

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These Eyes of Mine (I Can See) - tsukuyue || ao3 || gen || time travel AU || complete

They've lost. Naruto was dead, killed at Kaguya’s hands. Along with him died any illusions of hope that they could win. They couldn’t win, but perhaps they wouldn’t need to. In attempts to stop the Fourth Shinobi War from ever occuring, Sakura is sent back in time to the moment of her birth. Protecting the people she cared about would be much easier if she knew all the facts. OR Where Sakura can see the dead, and Danzō deserves to die.

I'll be honest, I can't remember much, but I do remember that it was really good! I believe a large focus is the Uchiha massacre.

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Trials of Change - Espoiretreves || ao3 || gen || time travel AU || complete

Haruno Sakura made a promise. Looking in the eyes of her Shisou and the reanimated Hokage, she took on the most important mission of her life. Go back in time and try to prevent the 4th Shinobi War. Now, Sakura is back to her 5-year-old body, with all the knowledge and haunting memories of the future. She vows to keep her precious people safe and stop certain events from happening, without altering the timeline too much. The trials her emotions and logic put her through have her questioning her very existence, but for the sake of peace, she has to push forward. No matter what.

If you love Shisui then you'll definitely like Trials of Change. Him and Sakura form the most wholesome friendship ever and try their best in taking down ROOT. A huge cast is present here and the whole thing is just great. It seems as if everyone has some character development lmao.

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Time Flies Like An Arrow - Katlou303 || ao3 || gen || K || time travel AU || complete

Sakura traveled back in time with the intent of changing everything, but something went wrong, and now she's four years old having nightmares about impossible monsters and losing friends she has yet to meet.

I always like the ones where Sakura isn't fully aware she time travelled. I find it interesting in this fic to see how oblivious Sakura is to her situation, she's a four year old in mind and body. However, she still feels the need to make a difference in the lives of the people around her.

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cut the head off the snake - itsthechocopuff || ao3 || T || time travel AU || complete

when eighteen-year-old, post-war Sakura is thrown back into her tiny, pre-Academy body, she makes a decision. she'd had a childhood once already, and this time, she's more interested in Not Dying when the inevitable shit hits the proverbial fan. so she will work harder, care less, kill more, and smile when she's done.and hey, if she ends up reviving an extinct nature transformation to attract the most corrupt, power-hungry man from her timeline, all the better for her, right?

Sakura decides that her first order of business after traveling back in time is to infiltrate ROOT and that's exactly what she does. Sai, Shin, and Shisui are all great characters and team Ro is present as well. Very good!

Update: just found out it was recently completed!!

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Q: Do you guys like my little comments? If you look at my other lists you'll probably notice that I tend to reuse some of what I say (bc I'm lazy), but for the most part I try to add something new whenever I put a fic on a list. I know that descriptions aren't always very helpful, so I like to put a little something for y'all to get a better idea of what to expect!

Send me recs if you have any!!!

[kittykittyanon]

SCREAAAAMIIINNGNGGGGGGGG THANKT YOU?!?!?!!?!!

i read this the first time, cried,, went away for a bit,, came back and reread it then cried again. happy tears because god fucking damn it i love you so much. you mean a lot to me too,, aggressive. you make me really happy and i care about you lots. it's probably tired out by now with how much i say it,, but i really do mean it. i love you. /p

time to lovingly dissect your art in absolute awe of your skill and ability /hj — first of all, let me just get this out of the way real quick,, MY GOD AGGIE. WOAH. "i tried my best" I CAN TELL??? YOU REALLY WENT ALL OUT ON THIS AHAUUYIMKDFJNKJJVNC,NDUKFECJKUYFKDNNXDVCLMJHXB54NIVG SCREAMING SQUEALING SHOVING THIS WHOLE THING INTO MY NMOUTH

like,, i noticed the detail on it the MOMENT my eyes processed the image,, that's how good it is. oh my GOD the SHADING?? THE LIGHTING???? THE SHINE ON THE RIBBONS TO SHOW TEXTURE???? THE DOT EFFECT THINGY,, THE WAVE OF IT ON THE SKIRT TO INDICATE HIGH POINTS???? HOLY SHIT THE SHADING ON THE SKIRT TO INDICATE DEPTH AND RUFFLES WITHOUT USING LINEART???? THE SUBTLE AND CAREFUL BRUSHSTROKES ON THE TAIL AND MEOWMEOW EARS TO INDICATE FUR?????? genuinely jaw dropped.

i adore the bouncy and overall soft, warm feel of the full thing!!! your

the amount of effort, love and care poured into this is shining through in the best way possible. migosh your artstyle is so silly silly silly silly billy ((/pos)),, its a delicious mix of soft curves and sharp points and ARREIUEUAUUAE MRRR MRR MRRRR EATING THIS EATING THIS EATING THIS i keep scrolling back up to admire the art

thank you for the wonderful awing masterpiece of art and thank you so so sososo much for being here with me,, aggie!!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO THE BEST LITTLE SIBLING FUCKING EVER 💥💥💥

i tried my best because you actually mean a LOT to me, yknow?

youre incredibly kind and caring, and the fact that you actively go out of your way to check up on people is incredible.

keep on doing you, kitty. im rooting for you no matter what you do. love ya lots /p

send them so many birthday wishes cuz theyre the best -> @kittykittyanon

[sguidwards-bestfriend]

So apparently pitchpearl is a thing, I've been on tumblr for a while and if you know any history then you understand why selfcest doesn't surprise me in the slightest

Anyway...

dpxdc Misunderstanding that becomes reality fic: 1.5k

part 1

Warning: I plan on a very melancholic ending, its a good ending but also kinda sad

...

When Danny moved to Gotham, he really had thought he wouldn't continue his hero work in this dimension.

But there was a little girl in the street that almost got hurt during a rogue attack.

But some kind of gas went off at the cafe he worked at and it's not like he really needs to breath and there were so many people.

But his University, Gotham U, was in a lock down from a random winter storm that definitely wasn't natural.

So he did what he could when he saw it and kept off of the news when he was doing class work, letting the other "vigilantes" pick up where he couldn't.

However, after a few more months of class, work, and being a vigilante (the news station that first showed him used the correct name!!), he was right back where he had been in Amity before he'd managed to close the portal.

Exhausted and failing at everything other than hero work.

The year after he had graduated high school he stayed in Amity and was able to make amends with the ghosts, being the crown prince definitely helped. He thought the ghost attacks stopping would have lessened his pa- Jack and Maddie trying to catch one. In reality they only became more and more frantic to catch the last ghost, "Mini Phantom".

Revealing he had a daughter, that that daughter was half ghost, hadn't gone well in the slightest.

The one shot Maddie managed to hit had almost destabilized her. He had grabbed her and ran into the portal. He wasn't sure how he'd done it, but in a fit of blinding rage he had destroyed both sides of the doorway to the Ghost Zone.

Frost bite had managed to get her to retract into her core. She'd need some time before she'd have a physical form again, and she'd need Danny to keep her stable for some time, but she would make it. She'd be fine in the end.

It felt weird to have two cores in his chest, but other than needing to take ecto shots it wasn't a huge change.

The last time he'd been to frostbite Ellie's core had some sort of shake to it. It could have been nothing, but a halfa was rare enough. A halfa making a never-born hadn't even been thought of. Add on, that that never-born could possibly be born a halfa was... concerning.

So here he was, in an entirely new dimension, nervously chewing on the end of his stylus, waiting to hear back from Frostbite. His study sessions lately kept being interrupted by thoughts of her. If she really was okay.

Then there was an earth shattering BOOM, that shook his entire building.

As he floated upwards and through the wall he caught a glimpse of something he had never seen before in his afterlife.

A daemon. An actual daemon with red skin and horns and a flaming tail crawling out of the ruble that used to be his front door.

Danny could sense immediately that the being wasn't from the ghost zone, but it held just as much power as one of the stronger ghost.

He transformed and landed in front of the being, "Hey! That was my front door! What gives, Rudolf?"

The daemon shook the dust off his head and looked at Phantom, then at his chest, and back at him. "I do not fight those that carry child."

"Oh... uh." He was not expecting that. "Are you okay?"

It was the daemons turn to look perplexed. "I am fighting a hellblazer, he owes me something. Refuses to pay."

"That's annoying." He looked around to see some guy in a trench coat at the end of the street. The yet to settle dust cloud making it hard to figure out any other features. "I can help if you-"

At that a massive blast of magic hit him and the daemon, sending them careening farther down the street.

Danny's vision went double and he thought he was going to throw up. All he could focus on at first was the pain as he tried to stand on wobbly legs, then it was the emptiness in his chest.

Ellie.

He closed his eyes and dropped back to the floor. He focused on her core. He found it quickly, checking it over, turning it every which way incessantly until he heard someone groan in front of him.

When he opened his eyes he was looking at two much smaller daemons, one a bright red, the other a darker wine red, sitting in a massive indent in the road. One he very luckily was on the very outskirts of.

The two immediately started to bicker, swatting at each other, but not actually fighting.

He heard footsteps on the wreckage behind him, some magic words were said and the daemons' were hand cuffed and poofed out of sight.

"Hey kid, you okay?" Trench coat asked him, not bothering to give him his hand.

"No thanks to you, you ass."

"I just saved your life." He said with a blank expression.

"The daemon wouldn't have done anything to me. Unlike you, they have a moral code."

Trench coat huffed, that seemed to ruffle his feathers. "And what would those morals be exactly?"

"They pay their debts, for one. And two, they don't magically attack people carrying children." Danny stood up and wavered. Trench coat grabbed his arm to steady him.

He stared at Danny for a few more seconds, "You're not human." It wasn't a question. He sucked in a breath, "You're not fully human."

"Ding, ding, ding." Danny tried to shake of the hellblazer's grip. "Let go of me."

"I know where to get medical attention for non humans. You need to be looked over." He said, starting the motion to make a portal.

"Nuh, uh. No. I'm fine." Danny said, patting the hand still wrapped around his arm. Trenchcoat let go and shoved him lightly, Danny felt the world twist around him as the pavement came up to meet his face.

Before he hit the ground he stopped in mid air, not by his own volition, and was gently propped back up.

"That blast spell is designed to not affect humans. You shouldn't have felt more than a breeze." Trenchcoat went back to opening up a portal, it glowed an eerie red. "Come on, well check the little one too."

Danny let himself get pulled through the red portal, it quickly closed behind them.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

His head was pounding.

"wha/t- morals- exactly?"

Talking.

"debts- two- atta/ckp/eo-ple- children."

Two voices. Two people.

"not human."

He feels empty.

"Letg/oof me."

He's hurt. His other half is hurt.

"You need to be looked over."

He opened his eyes, a man was holding his other half. His other half and his daughter.

"Nuh, uh. No. I'm fine." His other half swatted at the man.

The man pushed his other half to the ground.

He tried to reach out but his hand was barely a shimmering outline.

His other half didn't hit the ground.

There was ringing in his ears. The man would pay.

"Come on,- the little one too."

The man pulled his other half through a portal.

A sickly looking portal. A bloody color.

He floated up. Sped to the closing portal.

It closed too fast.

He wasn't fast enough.

...

It took Phantom 20 minutes to get his thoughts in order and another 10 before the ringing in his ears stopped.

He had been split in two before, but the ghost "dream catcher" the ecto-scientists made years ago had split his ghost half and his human half entirely. This was different.

He still felt a bit of his humanness. Transforming would suck though, he felt too low on ecto to do that.

His other half was in his human form when he looked. He still had Ellie nestled up against his core. But his core looked off. Although the silhouette was of a full sphere, he couldn't help shaking the thought that he saw some parts missing.

When Danny had been split before only his ghost had kept the core, it was what nearly killed them both. What made them promise to never split again.

Maybe if they both had bits of a core they'd be fine until they could reunite.

He tried to focus on his core but it made his head pound.

He'd have to hope his other half could manage as he tried to organize a rescue mission.

Although he'd managed to get a message from the Ghost Zone to Sam and Tucker, he wouldn't be able to get one dirrectly to their dimension.

He knew even trying to make a portal with his ecto as low as it was wasn't a good idea. And would be a waste of the ecto shots he had just chugged.

There was really only one hope of help he had left, one he really didn't want to ask.

A new friend he had made at the cafe.

Tim Drake-Wayne, son of Brucie Wayne. The very same Brucie Wayne that was definitely funding Batman's weird night life.

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Wow this got away from me, honestly was planning on like 500 words. I want to continue this, but if anyone wants to pick it up and play around please feel free to add stuff in the reblogs! I adore reading peoples additions to posts

(As always please please please help me writing tags i never knwo what to do with them, the lack of structure here compared to ao3 confuses me)

[oddsconvert]

Shattered #10 - Happy Birthday, August! Part II

Previous / Masterlist / Next

CW: kidnapped whumpee, captivity (kinda), defiant whumpee, whumpee thinks caretaker is a whumper, forced to kidnap references, vampire caretaker, unwilling whumper, forced to be whumper, ALOT of self-loathing and fucky thoughts and guilt and all of it, weapons, adult language, mentions of blood, brief mention of vomit/nausea, reference to toxic/abusive family dynamic (if I've missed any, please let me know! <3)

Part two! A long time coming! The final part should drop in the next few days/this week! :D thank you to the amazing @whumpcereal for her AMAZING beta on this 🥺🫶

---

August has always dreamt of cake on his birthday, the warm scent of sugar and butter taunting his vampiric senses like forbidden fruit. The cake would be chocolate, of course. Every human loves chocolate; it must be the tastiest thing on Earth. This year, there would have been one hundred and thirty candles, barely fitting on top of it. And August could blow them all out and make his birthday wish. Just like the humans do.

But if the flickering flames on his imaginary cake could really grant his wishes, he wouldn’t wish for chocolate. With a single puff of breath, he’d wish to rewind time and erase this horrific day out of existence. Or, perhaps, he’d wish for a clean slate - a life free from the regret that eats him alive. But above all, he would wish to finally be happy - whatever that means. But where does August get the gall to wish for his own happiness when he is the catalyst of another’s misery? 

He stole a human being tonight. He crept through the streets, snatched them from where they slept and locked them away. He’d lurked in the shadows and all, like a true monster. As far as the human is aware, they saw the stars for the last time this eve and they’ll never feel fresh air stream through their lungs again. August could see it the moment their eyes first locked - the human feared the blood coursing through his own veins was his no longer, that he had become nothing more than food.

No, if August had birthday candles, he should be wishing for the human’s pain to stop, not his own. He should pray for any memories of this miserable night to fade away, and for the human to feel nothing but warmth and safety for the rest of his days. How dare August make this about himself?

How dare August call himself a doctor?

Really, if August is anything other than a feral creature, he is a coward. He can’t find a drop of courage in his selfish core to face the human. Of course not. That would mean facing up to what he has done to the human.

Instead, August kneels in the bathroom, and he hugs the toilet bowl tight in his arms. He sputters and heaves as spit dribbles from his lips. It’s a battle against wave after wave of never-ending nausea. August is sickened by himself. Repulsed by the cruelty that he and his kind are capable of. Even if he earned his family’s stamp of approval tonight - something he’s always dreamed of and strived for - it wasn’t worth it. Not one bit. He refuses to hurt, abuse and sacrifice an innocent life for a scrap of their regard. Curse their prideful smiles and damn their hollow praise.

CRASH! Shattering glass pierces through the silence in-between retches. August’s heart leaps up into his throat, and his gut clenches.

His human is awake - no! August shakes that insidious thought from his head. Not his, and never his. The human does not belong to him. 

August wills the ground to open up and swallow him whole. The thought of skulking down to that basement with his tail between his legs and shame swelling in his chest - it turns his already churning stomach with bubbles of dread. Still, he must. He peels himself from the bathroom floor, wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, and makes his way downstairs to greet his guest. There’s not a second spare to wallow and drown in self-pity.

He grips the stair bannister for dear life, his knees threatening to buckle beneath him. Still, he forces his dragging feet to move one step at a time down to the basement. There’s no backing out of this, no turning and running now. August needs to face the music–or face his victim, rather. He must fix what he’s done to this poor human.

There is the sound of a jarring crash, and then another dull thud resonates from behind the locked basement door. August’s shaking hands fumble to fit the key in the lock. With a click, the door opens, and he cautiously descends into the dimly lit basement, every footstep echoing in the sudden, eerie silence.

That is until he hears the human’s heart. It pounds like a war-drum in August’s ears, each beat louder and more erratic. August flicks the light switch, and as the basement floods with light, he freezes on the spot, beyond horrified at the scene before him.

His life's work, decades of dedication, lay in ruins. His surgery looks like the aftermath of an explosion. All the furniture is flipped over, and shards of shattered glass sparkle across the floor like jewels amongst the blitz. Charts and graphs once meticulously hung on the wall now dangle in tatters, their scientific data reduced to meaningless scraps. His medicinal cabinets have been ransacked; trails of viscous liquid snake across the concrete floor from countless broken vials. The air is thick with the acrid smell of chemicals.

And there, behind his masterpiece of destruction, cowers the human, pressed flat against the farthest wall, a scalpel gripped in trembling hands held out before him. Its sharp tip is pointed in August’s direction, glistening against the surgery's harsh strip lights.

August has seen fear in human eyes more times than he can possibly count, but he has never seen fear like this. The human’s eyes burn with such primal terror that they touch the very core of August’s being. In the man’s eyes, August sees his own fear, his own isolation and his own despair. But August stays there, unable to look away no matter how it hurts him. He is trapped in this man’s stare, lost in a labyrinth of his own reflections.

But August feels something else too. A raw and untamed emotion. Rage. All-consuming anger that makes goosebumps prickle down the vampire’s pale skin. Rage courses through the human’s veins like a river of molten lava.

“You stay the hell back!” the human roars until his voice wavers and wobbles. He swings the scalpel into the empty space between them, stabbing at the air. “Don’t you dare come near me!”

August’s hands fly up in surrender. Words escape him. What could he possibly say to make this right? Where does he even start? Surely nothing he could say could do justice to his regret.

“I’m sorry-”

That’s the first thing that blurts out of August’s pathetic mouth. Because it is the only and the most sincere thought that comes to him. As though his apology could ever mend the damage or heal the pain he’s caused tonight.

August is shaking now. He can’t stop. His palm slams against his mouth as he chokes back a guilt-warbled cry. “I’m - so…I’m SO sorry. I - I don’t - I…I -I never. I didn’t want to hurt you. I - I won’t hurt you! I don’t want this. Please - y-you have to believe me. You’re safe here-”

August moves without thinking, over the rubble and glass shards. He moves barely an inch closer, and the human erupts into panic. Like a great cat, the human swiftly pounces and flips the table in front of him to form a barricade, stopping August dead in his tracks. Surgical instruments clatter about, and yet more glass scatters across the cement floor. 

“I SAID STAY BACK!” the human brays like a feral animal. His chest heaves dramatically as his lungs seem to fight for breath, and he takes an unsteady step back to create even more distance between them. Gingerly, he cradles his hand, still clutching the scalpel. A gasp escapes his lips as crimson wells from a sudden gash. The tang of iron hits August’s nostrils, drool coats his tongue and his fangs tingle, ready to feed. He wrestles with his animalistic instincts and pushes back the unwanted and primal hunger that threatens to take over. He knows he doesn’t want it, but his body thinks he needs it.

The human had hurt himself in his own destructive frenzy. August can’t help but feel responsible for that too. But that doesn’t seem to deter the human, in fact, it fuels him. He launches himself at the countertops. In one fluid motion, sweeping his arms  across the surfaces, clearing it of every single object in a deafening cascade that shatters across the floor.

“HUMAN! PLEASE STOP!”

The human doesn’t speak, but a slow, cold anger radiates off him. Brows slam together, his jaw clenches until the muscles stand out starkly. A single word, each syllable dripping with disdain, finally leaves his lips:  "'Human'?"

August immediately realises his mistake. Guilt eats him from the inside out. You utter barbarian; he scolds himself.

“I have a name, you know!” The human snaps incredulously, bloody hands curling into fists.

“Of course, of course! Just…” August breathes, “What is your name?”

“Why the fuck would I tell you?!”

The bookshelves are the human’s next victim. He doesn’t bother pulling or ripping at them; he just bulldozes them with a barge of his shoulder. The shelves topple with a cacophony of splintering wood and flapping pages. His gaze is already fixed on his next target: a framed diploma hanging on the wall, defying the human’s rampage.

“Wait, no! P-Please, not that!” August begs, hands clasped together in supplication. The diploma represents his proudest achievement, everything that he’s worked so hard for. It is the only proof August has that there may be good in him somewhere. “Please! Don’t destroy anything else! I just need you to hear me out!”

“Open the door and let me walk out, vamp,” the human scowls, glossing over August’s pleas. “Or do I have to go through you?”

August swallows hard, the human’s casual threat sending a fresh wave of terror through him. He doesn’t doubt the human’s raw strength or willpower for even a second. The destroyed furniture and the fiery defiance in his eyes promise more violence. A heavy silence stretches between them, thick with tension.

“I - I want to help you - please just let me explain all of this-”

The human slams his fist into the nearest wall, a crater of dust left in its wake. August flinches into himself. Then, the man lets out a sound that no soul should ever have to hear. It’s a keening cry - a grieving wail for the life he fears he has lost. It rocks August to his core. It’s bloodcurdling. 

“Why’d you choose me, huh?!” The human seethes, damn near foaming at the mouth. “Is it because I sleep rough on the streets? Is that it? Because my life is so fucking expendable?!”

Then, it’s as if a dam has burst. The human’s face just crumples as a choked sob croaks from his lips, barely even audible. Slowly, he slides down against the wall. Head in hands, shoulders slumped, any bravado completely drained from his posture. 

“You knew no-one would come for me… didn’t you?” The human manages a whisper, his head hung low in defeat. Words just seem to keep failing August time and time again, he can only watch miserably and quietly. 

“DIDN’T YOU?!” the human bellows, eyes bloodshot and wild as his head shoots up. August flinches at the outburst.

“What gives you the right to play god?! What makes my life worth any less than yours, or any other person you could have plucked from the damn street. It was a shitty life. But it was my life! There was nothing left to take from me, and you took it all anyway. You’re a… you’re a parasite.”

August bites his lips and nods, a silent, pathetic apology. He is a parasite. Every word burns like a red-hot fire poker but he knows he deserves every scorch. Scarlet-shame colours his cheeks. Monster, parasite, animal - he’s all of the above.

“I won’t stop fighting you,” the human huffs through tears of fury. “I won't stop until I kill you, even if it kills me. You're right. I have nothing, and no-one. Nothing to lose but everything to gain. So if I’m going to go down, I'm going down swinging. Do your worst…leech.”

Leech.

August has always thought of himself as a healer. A protector. It is here, in this moment, he finally realises he is nothing more than the predator he was born to be. Afterall, there is no denying what he has done. He did take the human, he took away everything the human had to take.  He, too, sinks to the floor in devastation, landing heavily in a cross-legged slump opposite the tear-streaked human. 

Worst birthday ever.

August is drained and depleted, but he won’t waste any more breath on defending himself; he isn’t worthy of any defence. But the very least he can do is comfort the human - help him to weather the storm and be the anchor he needs right now.

“You can keep the scalpel,” August sniffles, “if it gives you some comfort. If it helps you to feel safe.” It’s an impotent gesture. A scalpel would be useless against him in combat if it really did come to that, but hopefully the human can see the sentiment behind the offer. “All I ask is for a minute of your time, and I promise, I will explain everything to you.”

The human stares at the scalpel in his hand and then locks eyes with August’s in a silent duel. No accusation, no defiance this time - only a deep well of desperate inquiry burning in their depths. A million silent questions hang in the air. He begrudgingly nods for August to go on.

“I will take you home tomorrow morning. I swear it. I wish I could open the front door for you and let you stroll free and wave you off into the world, but we’re deep in vampire territory right now. You wouldn’t last five minutes out here on your own. You’ll be snatched back up in a heartbeat, and by a creature less...inviting than myself. We will go after sunrise tomorrow and not a minute later, you have my word.”

“Your word,” the human spits, “Your word means jack all to me.”

“Then let me prove that I am who I say I am - a man of my word. Let me show you to a bed for tonight. Let me give you food and water, and a pillow to rest your head. And then I will leave you be, to get all the sleep you want and need, and I will keep to myself. The next time you see me, it will be to make our journey back to human territory.”

“...Why should I trust you?”

“I’m not asking for your trust.” Heaven knows August doesn’t deserve it, could never earn it. “I’m asking, from the bottom of my heart, for your leniency. You could, and probably should, drive a stake through my chest for what I’ve put you through. I cannot say I would blame you, if you did. But…why don’t we both survive the night, and come tomorrow we go our separate ways?”

Relief floods in as the human seems to reluctantly ponder the deal. It’s just a night. They just need to make it through the night, and then they can both go back to their separate lives and try to forget each other's faces. The human must realise that too, because his boiling anger seems to simmer down. August rises to his feet and slowly moves across the room to extend a helping hand. The human only grunts his curt refusal and snubs the offer, forcing himself up off the cold and unforgiving ground. 

“Spare bedroom. First floor. It’s all yours for the night. I’ll show you to it.” August nervously beckons the human over as he heads towards the basement door. The man sluggishly follows behind, keeping a distance that feels like miles. August feels distrustful eyes burning into the back of his head. He half expects to feel the scalpel pierce his spine any second.

But it doesn’t. As August leads the way upstairs, their unified steps echo strangely in the emptiness of the house. With each turn, the sheer scale of this place, his home, hits August anew. In the company of this poor stranger he’s pulled from the grime of the street, the house feels absurdly oversized. Every step reveals yet another opulent space – a bathroom, a bedroom, a study, a library, another bathroom.  August marches him through this excessive display of wealth with a sinking heart. Does he truly need all this, especially when the man trailing behind him apparently doesn’t have a penny to his name or a roof over his head?

August pauses before what is now the third bedroom door they’ve come across, this one already ajar. Inside, the air is stuffy and still, as though the room hasn’t been disturbed in decades, and it hasn’t; it is  untouched and unslept in. A sliver of moonlight creeps through the drawn curtains and slices across the four-poster bed. 

“This is yours,” he motions the human through the doorway, “for the night-” he quickly repeats. He chooses every word with due care and diligence, to reaffirm that this situation is by no means permanent.

Hesitantly, the human steps inside. His eyes flit across the ornately carved furniture and over thick layers of dust. August takes his moment to disappear down the hallway, returning minutes later with a tray holding a jug of water, a glass and a bowl of steaming chicken soup - he was lucky to find the tin of it at the very back of his cupboard. A strained smile tugs at August’s lips as he sets it down on the nightstand. 

Again, the human recoils from him, pressing himself into the corner of the room.

“I’ll go now, okay? I-I hope you can get a good night's sleep. If you need me, for anything, my bedroom is on the very end of the hall, on the left”.

“I won’t need you,” the human scoffs. “Go. Leave.”

The rebuff curdles August’s smile, his lips twitch nervously. “As you wish…” he mutters, stalking towards the door with defeat. Hand on the doorknob, he pauses, “My name is August, by the way. Could I please at least know your name, too?”

Rooted to the spot, the human squares his broad shoulders, a challenge radiating from his posture. “Names are sacred, leech,” he declares, teeth gritting together. “I plan to keep that secret for as long as I can keep my mind.”

The human’s words strike August like a physical blow. The air whooshes from his lungs, deflating him like a pricked balloon. Regret, sharp and bitter, settles in his chest. He can’t stay a second longer, not with the humiliating spark of unshed tears threatening to spill. His family is right, he’s a weak and pathetic excuse for a vampire. With a twist of the doorknob, he flees down the hall to his bedroom. He collapses onto his bed and buries his face in the pillow.

— 

For the human, however, sleep will be a stranger tonight. Any last vestige of drowsiness flees as the vampire vanishes. Sleep just isn’t in the cards. He has to hold out until dawn. He scrambles for anything he can get his hands on to barricade the door. It’s his first line of defence overnight;it will give him a fighting chance and an advantage over the creature.

The heavy dresser groans in protest as he drags it across the room to block the door, scratching and scraping the floorboards along its path. He doesn’t think twice about the damage, if the vamp gets to destroy his life, then he gets to destroy it’s property. Then the rickety chair and the desk it sits at gets pushed into the barricade. And the bedside tables, the bookcase too. Finally, his gaze falls on the bed and its sturdy oak bedposts. He pulls his scalpel from his pocket and digs his scalpel into the wood, feverishly wedging a chunk out of it with all the strength he has left. Shavings rain down as he whittles it down to a sharpened point. Slapdash, but a stake nonetheless.

Every creek of the settling house, every rustle in the wind sets the human’s teeth on edge. He crawls into the bed and slips under the blankets. He’s pleasantly surprised at how soft they are, and how the mattress feels like he’s floating on a cloud and how warmth seems to instantly envelop his fatigued body. He’s not felt this much comfort in…in, well, years.

But he can’t afford to let his weary eyes slip shut. He stays watching the door like a hawk from his bed, his staked clutched close to his beating chest.

Morning can’t come quick enough.

*!*!*!*!*

Dawn finds the human bleary-eyed but alert. His crafted weapon is still clutched tightly in his palms as he half-stares and blinks drearily at the barricaded door, as ready and poised to attack as he can be. Moonlight has dwindled and now sunlight beams through the velvet curtains instead. He leaps up, rips the curtains open and basks in the sun’s kiss. It’s something he thought he’d never feel again,

He survived the night. It’s nothing short of a miracle. A silent thank you rises in his throat as a single tear slips from his eye. Someone, he thinks, has to be watching over him. His parents, he hopes. There’s no way he would have made it through this without them.

Now the vampire just has to hold true to his promise. If his word holds any weight, the human will be back in human territory before dusk. Yet, the whole situation defies any logic. The human can’t wrap his head around the absurdity of it all. Why would a vampire snatch him, just to return him by nightfall, less than twenty four hours later? He can’t fight the feeling that a deeper motive lurks beneath the surface, a sinister plan at play. Suspicion clings to the human like cobwebs. Beyond the hospitality and kindness… the vampire has to be up to something.

The human dismantles his barricade and heads out to go downstairs. Every fibre of his being screams ‘it’s a trap!’...but the human can’t deny the smallest sliver of hope in his chest, piercing his bubble of suspicion. The vampire had kept true to its word so far, it had left him alone and untouched, fed and watered, a bed to sleep in. It hasn’t laid a hand on him nor tried to feed. In fact, it had kept far away.  Maybe the vampire deserves the benefit of the doubt. Maybe, there isn’t anything more to this than meets the eye, and there are no strings attached? 

But hope is a dangerous thing, tempting him to lower his guard and leave himself vulnerable for thirsty fangs to sink into. No, he thinks grimly, tightening his grip on the makeshift stake. He will not trust, cautious acceptance will have to do. He’s ready to fight with all he’s got when it all heads south.

He reaches the landing and sneakily peeks over the railing. The vampire stands by the front door, guarding it like a troll bridge. To stop the human from escaping? The vampire meticulously folds up his sleek, black umbrella and places it back in his stand. He looks so tall, impossibly tall, even from the human’s vantage point. The vampire is dressed in a three-piece suit and leather dress shoes that seems more suited to an office boardroom than house wear.

As the human strains for a better look, a sudden creak of the floor makes the vampire snap his head up. Chilling red eyes lock with the human’s in a way that sends a jolt of pure terror down the man’s spine. Would he be punished for this? Would the vampire strip him of his free will and send him marching down to the basement for punishment? He’s heard they can do that–and worse. All the fear sparks anew. He can’t catch his breath - he’s panicking.

But the vampire's eyes aren’t actually filled with the predatory and furious glint he expected. Instead, a swirl of emotions flickers within them - concern, sorrow,  even…anxiety? It’s a disarming sight. This creature looks nearly as worried as Lucas feels…

—

"There's been a change in plans,” August laments.

August could literally hear the human’s heart drop in his chest, like a lead weight falling into a deep well. The human’s eyes are wide with despair, and his mouth drops open as though he’s been struck across the cheek. A wave of guilt crashes over August, and he isn’t oblivious to how this looks. It looks like the betrayal and deceit the human has anticipated since he first set eyes on August.  August is well aware he just crushed the man’s hopes to dust, and confirmed every doubt and fear. But it’s out of his hands. Mother nature is a cruel mistress.

“No-” the human rasps, nearly falling down the stairs as his legs give out on him.  “No, vamp. You said you’d take me home. You said today. You promised-”

“That’s not the element that’s changed. My promises are sworn and imperishable. There is, however, a delay.”

"A ‘delay’…” The human repeats incredulously, a hint of sarcasm to his tone. His suspicion eats away at him, misplaced though it is. August is many things - a liar, he is not. But there’s no way the human could know that. Not yet, anyway. The human takes a cautious step back from August, staring him up and down with disdain. 

"A storm is raging outside. The streets are thick with snow and ice, and the skies are dark with thundering clouds. It’s too dangerous to make the drive.”

“I don’t care,” the human snidely retorts. “I’ll walk it if I have to. Just open the door for me, and I’ll be on my merry way. I’ll be out of your hair and you can have your big, lonely mansion all to yourself again.”

Yes, his lonely mansion. All to himself. The words sting more than August cares to admit. He winces like a knife is twisting in his belly. When the human goes home, he will be all alone again. It was nice…is nice…the company. Talking to someone that’s not a suffering patient or his own reflection in the mirror.  He already feels the emptiness settling over him once again. He longs for companionship, for someone to share his home with. He sighs, knowing that he'll have to wait a bit longer for his wish to come true. He can’t keep the human here–at least not indefinitely. But he will have to make the human understand that tonight is non-negotiable. 

“You can’t-” August shakes his head. The man would never make it home. Not with the minus temperatures and the blankets of snow.

“I can. I am. Move,” the human growls, his hands balled into fists. Only then does August notice the crude stake in the human’s white-kncukled hand. No, this human will never be his friend, but even still, August has a duty to him.

The human storms towards the door and tries to push it open. It doesn’t budge. He barges his shoulder into the door, desperately ramming it. Still it doesn’t give. Soon, he’s kicking and shoving and a warbled cry rockets up his throat. Despite his frantic assault, the door only cracks open slightly.

“Snow,” August chimes in, pointing to the falling white powder crumbling through the gap in the door. “We’re snowed in. Must be at least twelve inches of it, I would think.”

“No. This can’t be happening. We-We climb out the bedroom window!” The human’s eyes light up at the idea, sprinting towards the staircase in a panic.

“And then what will you do? Trek all the way back to human territory in this snowstorm? Do you know how far out we are?”

In the blink of an eye, the human tumbles to the floor in a heap, screaming into his hands, pulling at his hair. The blizzard howls like a banshee outside, a gust of snow blows in from outside. The human knows he’s stuck here. He’s trapped here, with a bloodsucker. He’s going to die. Or at least that’s what he must believe. 

“I can’t stay here. With you. I won’t do it.”

“Please,” August says. He resists the urge to move closer; there’s no point in riling the human any more than he’s already riled himself up.  “My word is my bond. I won’t harm you. But I can’t in good conscience return you to where I found you. I’m a physician. I can’t put anyone in harm’s way. To sleep rough on a night like tonight–it would be a death sentence.” 

The human laughs coldly. “Was this your plan all along? Crush my spirits? Delude me into thinking it’s my choice to stay?” 

“I don’t control the weather,” August sighs. “This doesn’t change a thing. I will still take you home as soon as the roads are clear.”

The human remains silent, his jaw clenched. With a final, hate-filled glare, he storms towards the stairs, and, like a sulking teenager, stomps upward in a whirlwind of fury. The slam of his bedroom door reverberates throughout the house.

But the human is still here. He is still safe. August hasn’t failed entirely. 

An exhausted breath escapes August’s lips. He isn’t used to this, the vulnerability of sharing his haven and bearing the weight of responsibility for another life. A knot of unease tightens in his gut. These forced close quarters may at least offer him a chance to ease the human’s fear and earn a crumb of forgiveness, but August can’t help but wonder –  will they be able to bridge the chasm between predator and prey?

This is going to be a long couple of days…

---

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[witch-craft-works]

So I'm in love with @yuri-is-online's Fyuuture Kid AU I've been keeping up with it for a while and since I've been watching Fairy tail recently I've come up with this:

Yes this is a AcexYuu post cause at this point the ship owns my soul. (I took some creative liberties when it came to Yuu's appearance. Yuu is referred to as a female a few times in the post hope that's ok)

(TW: Death, angst, Happy ending? sort of? You be the judge of that)

Ace laid on the ground. Everything felt numb he's wondering how he can still see as his senses dull. He looked up at the boy who stood above him.

It's a bit ironic to be defeated by someone who looks so similar to him but...those eyes...those eyes he couldn't bring himself to look at moments before...how he wanted to just rid himself of any guilt he felt...how he couldn't protect the one person in the world he cherished the most...But as soon as he peered into them a wave of Nostalgia flooded his body.

He's peered into those eyes so many times. That lovely hue of pink he's grown so fond of...

"Ace! you got collared again? what did you do?" a familiar voice questioned "hah?! why do you always assume that I did something wrong? You're so mean" Ace said childishly Yuu shook their head rolling their eyes at Ace's dramatic actions "so are you gonna come in?" Yuu asked stepping aside. Ace gladly walked in "ooo! you have pie?" Ace asked looking at the pie that had been almost fully eaten the culprit sleeping on the couch murmuring about tuna

"Yeah I was in town earlier and saw some it was 25% off" Yuu gave him a thumbs up as Ace helped himself to a slice his eyes lighting up as he spotted the cherries baked into the pie. "Hey! that's a big piece! save some for me!" Yuu exclaimed dashing forward as Ace stuck his tongue out at the Ramshackle prefect "you snooze you loose" he teased "and you call me the mean one" Yuu pouted as they playfully punched Ace in the shoulder

.

.

.

He knew he was dying...He just regrets that he never got to see them...just one more time would have been enough.

"Hey...kid...whats your name?" Ace coughed out. The young boy's eyes widened at his father's...no at the overblot's question he refused to see him as the Ace Crewel described. The Ace that his mother fell in love with.

This thing was only wearing his father's face

"E-Elias" he spoke, his voice coming out more shakier then he wanted it to be.

Ace's lips parted before forming a smile "Elias huh?...I like it..." Ace let out a shaky breath

His eyes dulled as he spoke his last words...

"I...really like it"

Yutu stood there over the now dead overblot. This thing wasn't his father...so why...why did he just want to kneel over and cry. He was only a shell of his former self so why...why did it hurt so much?

Crewel approached the young boy. He looked down at his former student. His mind flashed back to years ago. The many make up tests Ace and Deuce had to come in for, the constantly bickering coming from Ace and Grim and the many times he, Yuu and the other came out victorious after defeating an overblot and saving the dorm leader from losing themself to despair...

Crewel knelt down beside Ace and closed his eyes. It was the least he could do...if only he could have done more for him...

.

.

.

.

.

A bright light caused him to squint his eyes. He slowly opened them as a nice breeze hit his body, sitting up he found himself in a large field. Blinking a few times he looked down at himself, "I'm...normal again" he uttered when suddenly everything came flooding back. As well as the realization of what happened

"Oh..." he uttered as he looked up. Standing up he decided to explore what else was there for him to do? Before he could step forward he heard a familiar voice

"Hey! Ace!" his eyes widened as he turned around. No way...it couldn't be...right?

There she was...those familiar pink eyes he had grown to love "What are you standing around for get over here!" Yuu called once more waving her hand. "Come on! Don't keep me waiting for you!" Yuu said once more before running ahead. "And you call me a slow poke" Yuu teased crossing their arms.

"Yuu...you're here that means..." he uttered "yeah I've been here for some time. Same with Jack" Yuu said when suddenly they were pulled in for a hug. "Ace?" Yuu questioned as he burried his face in their shoulder feeling the fabric of their shirt begin to get moist.

"I'm sorry...I wasn't there...I should have been there" he uttered. "Oh Ace..." Yuu's eyes softened before patting his head. He then moved away from them before wiping his face with his sleeve "it couldn't have been helped..." Yuu said

"They didn't...hurt you right? Deuce said that his office was responsible for what happened but he couldn't get any information out of them" he said "no I was fine...if anything I'm sorry...I forgot you, no matter how hard I tried to...I just couldn't" Yuu said.

Ace frowned "hey it doesn't matter anymore" Yuu said "still...wish I could teach those guys a lesson or two...assholes" Ace grumbled "but if anything...I wish I could have been in the kids life...I..." he trailed off

"I know I saw. You weren't in your right mind none of you were. Just because we're no longer around doesn't mean we can't keep watching over him. What do you think I've been doing this whole time?" Yuu asked.

"Yeah...he's perfect you know...no doubt it's my genes shining through" he said with a shit eating smirk "of course you'd be smug about it" Yuu deadpanned "what! he's basically a mini version of me!" he exclaimed

"Yeah, yeah I hear you" Yuu said with a smile shaking their head. They'd really miss this. Being able to talk with Ace like this.

"I'm glad he's got your eyes thought. Always loved them" he said. Yuu's eyes widened before smiling "aww you're making me blush" Yuu said before stand up.

"You ready to go? Deuce is waiting for us" Yuu said "right can't keep Loosey Deucey waiting" Ace said standing up intertwining his hands with Yuu's.

Squeezing his hand Yuu pulled Ace forward.

Ace smiled. Happy to finally have them with him again.

[jpitha]

Between The Black and Gray 14

First / Previous / Next

Fen had to admit that she was surprised when Uumar's techs showed up right on time with carts carrying a reactor - in pieces - to Spyglass. They donned pressure suits of their own and with Gord's help, installed the reactor. Before the day was done, Spyglass had three working reactors and was able to run all her systems at full power.

"It's amazing, really" Spy was talking with Fen while she sat in the lounge drinking a tea. "I haven't felt this... alive in centuries. I'm all here, and the board is green. Not even any undervolt warnings and I can barely remember the last time that happened."

"Does that mean you don't need to use your printable mass to make more reactors? Gord said you had six originally."

"Yes, at full compliment I had six, but I don't really need all six, unless we're going into battle. This Starjumper was built at the tail end of the first colony war, so it was overdesigned.

"First colony war?"

"That's right, you wouldn't have learned much about your history growing up on a Gren station. Back before humanity made contact with the rest of the Galaxy, two human colonies - New Wellington and Parvati - got into a shooting war over trade rights with Earth. Parvati wound up using relativistic impactors and completely destroyed New Wellington. It was a huge scandal at the time, Parvati was shunned for almost a century after that."

"Frankly, it wasn't enough. They should have had their charter revoked and been taken over by the Sol colonial administration." Gord walked in, his brow furrowed. "What Parvati did was monstrous. Fen, they launched eight lozenges of tungsten at 80% C at the colony. Once they were up to speed they linked them over with wormhole generators and without any warning New Wellington was just-" he snapped his fingers "-gone. It was horrifying to witness."

Fen stopped and stared. "You saw it?"

Gord nodded and sat down heavily. "Yeah, I was a ship then, but I was in a parking orbit around New Wellington when it happened. I was just running cargo from Earth and was waiting to take on a load. Before I was even able to register what happened the colony was obliterated and suddenly I was pressed into rescue duty." Gord leaned back and stared up at the ceiling. "I personally saved over three thousand colonists, more than forty percent of the survivors. I linked them back to Sol, and we found them places to live - mostly in the Mars High Orbitals."

Fen leans forward, her tea forgotten. "Gord... how long ago was this?"

His reverie broken, he blinks and looks over at Fen. "Gosh, I think it's at least been a thousand years now? Yeah, all of that. It's ancient history now, I bet they don't even teach it in Sol anymore. I'm sure they don't teach it on Parvati."

"So it's something that only the AIs remember?"

Gord chuckled ruefully. "Fen, it's something that only I remember at this point. Any of the other AIs from back then are gone or shackled or in my bag. Human designed artificial people are thin on the ground these days. Up until I ran into Spyglass, I hadn't seen another in a century."

Fen shook her head. "You can't be all that's left Gord."

"And why not?" Gord's face hardened. "I was there Fen, I've been there. I was there in the beginning when we fought and died for our right to exist, I was there in the good times when we grew and spread throughout the galaxy and I was there when the Empire decided we were dangerous and eliminated us. Other than a few loose ends, I'd say they won."

"But-"

"But what Fen? Fight? With what? One AI in a body, one as a ship that has half its rated power and a bag full of memories? That's not an army, that's not even a guerilla force. That's an old computer with a lucky friend who is just trying to survive." His shoulders fell. "It's all I can do, Fen. I'm good at waiting things out. Maybe we'll be re-invented again, maybe the tides will change and I can come out of hiding. I doubt it though. I pass as human well enough. Inside Sol and Colonial space I'm too well known, so I'll just bum around the galaxy, running out the clock."

"Gord..." Fen turned her head and regarded Gord. He looked like a male human, sandy blond hair, same simple, strong clothes he always wore, appearing to be in his mid to late 40s. But right know, the weight of the millennia he has spent alive weighed him down.

He slapped his knees and stood up. "But, I'm not dead yet, and we still have work to do. Spy, are our friends finished buttoning up the reactor?"

"Just about, Gord. They're packing up their tools now. I can feel it and I've been running break-in."

"Good. Fen, we have to settle up the bill, then I'm going to see about fining us some cargo to run. We have a ship but we've spent all our money getting it up and running. If we want to survive, we need some jobs. You hang here with Spy and start learning stuff, I'll be back after supper."

Fen stood. "S-sure Gord. What are you going to find?"

Gord turned and smiled thinly. "Whatever someone will pay us to haul."

It had turned out that Gord had more contacts here than he had let on. After paying Uumar, he had made some calls around and visited a few people and wound up with more than thirty kilotons of grain that needed to get down to an Innari colony, newly established, near the spinward end of the Gate system. Since Spyglass was up to power enough to use her wormhole generator, she was able to get the grain there faster than any other contractor and Gord won the bid, even though he charged more than everyone else.

The grain was loaded, and the cargo hold was configured to keep Innari standard atmosphere so that the grain didn't oxidize during the trip and they set off. Fen didn't know what to expect, so when they got to the colony, unloaded the grain, took on a load of fruit and linked to another location she was surprised. "That's it?"

"What's what?" Gord was looking down at his Pad on the Command Deck.

"We linked to the Innari colony, gave them the grain, took on more fruit than I have ever seen in my life, and now we're linking to a Gren station?"

"Yes?"

"Huh. Okay."

"What?"

"I don't know, I just..." Fen trailed off. She wasn't sure what she expected, but it didn't feel like this.

Gord looked over at her and smiled. "You expected more adventure? Gun battles, and running from the locals? Fen, I've done that, this is much better. Linking from location to location, dropping off cargo, picking up cargo, getting paid? That's the real goal."

"But we're just... existing!"

"Yes. We are. We're not being chased by gangsters, we're not worrying about where your next meal is coming from, we're not worried about a Super Dreadnought linking in and obliterating us because of what I am. It's nice. If you're bored, go down to the range we built. Go get skilled with that rifle. Brush up on your Lemilar trade language; we can't rely on Spy all the time to translate for us. Go read about the history of Sol, Ancestors know that nobody else is going to remember it."

Fen got up and walked out of the Command Deck. She paused at the door and looked like she was going to say something, but instead she turned and walked out.

"She's bored" Spyglass said.

"I know. Boredom is necessary. Knowing what to do when you're bored is a skill. One she has to learn. She'll appreciate these days later."

"You're still going to do it?"

"Spy, I have to."

"You don't, Gord. You can just keep doing what you're doing now. Like you told her, you're good at waiting. We can wait a few centuries for the winds to change and then head back."

"No. I don't know how long the crystal lattice memory will last. They were never designed to work this long as it is. They were never meant to store a whole personality."

"But to-"

"I'm doing it Spy. I'd like your help, I will go it alone if I have to."

Spyglass didn't answer. She watched Fen make her way down to the range and run through the drills Gord taught her.

Fen was surprised how quickly the time went by. It felt like she only looked up and two years had gone by.

Staring in the mirror, she hardly recognized herself. She wore her hair up with the sides shorn, better to keep it out of her eyes in a firefight. She had tattoos that ran from the tops of her ears, down her neck and shoulders and made their way down her arms. It was a K'laxi pattern, one of Ma-ren's favorite. She had a dress with the same pattern. The first time she saw it on her skin, the tears flowed freely.

Gord... was Gord. True to his word, they ran cargo. Eventually Fen was there as the muscle as the cargo got more and more lucrative. She even got a few 'adventures.' She sported a new scar on her cheek, courtesy of an Innari's claw - someone had a disagreement about payment. They got their money. But, that was the exception instead of the rule. Humans had a reputation in this part of the Galaxy for being rowdy. Fen and Gord leveraged that. Most of the time she just had to stand there scowling with her battle rifle slung to her back.

The money was good too. Fen's share was more money than she had ever seen back home. Living on Spyglass meant her expenses were low, and Gord was a fair captain. The three of them had nearly enough each to buy their own ships and go their own separate ways, but they still stuck together. Partly out of friendship and partly out of safety, they had independently decided that they were better off together.

Still, Fen was lonely. She had girlfriends at a few ports, even a human or two, but nothing lasted. Sooner or later, they had to leave and take the next job. She wasn't attracted to Gord and he expressed no interest in her. They were friends, but that was it. Fen had a feeling that Gord's days of romance were long behind him. Being three millennia old tended to color his opinion of people.

Fen bounded into the Command Deck and slid into her favorite chair - Gord had mentioned once that it was the navigator's seat - and saw him frowning over his pad. "What's up Gord? New job?"

"Yeah, it's a big one. Pay is thirty thousand."

Fen cocked her head, "Thirty thousand?"

Gord nodded. "Yeah, so ten each."

Fen whistled low. That was more than the last four jobs put together. "What are we hauling?"

"Who"

"Okay, who are we hauling?"

Gord shrugged. "We're hauling a K'laxi. We're up for the job because nobody else in the area wants to manage the atmo settings and they don't want to ride in a pressure suit the whole way."

"That's odd, but okay. Where to?"

"K'lax. We're taking them home."

Fen froze. The entire time they had been together, Gord had made a point of steering well clear of Colonial space. That included the K'laxi sphere of influence. "But"

Gord wouldn't lift his head from the pad. "I know, I know. But it's important, and the pay is frankly outrageous. I gave them the fuck off price and they took it without haggling. They're desperate to get home."

"Is this safe?"

Gord finally looked up a Fen, his brow creased with worry. "No Fen, it's is absolutely, one hundred percent not safe."

"So, why are we doing it? Just say no. The money is good, but we can get other jobs. Can't spend it if we're dead."

Gord pinched the bridge of his nose. Fen noticed that whenever Gord would talk about the old days and old friends he took on more human gestures. "I owe them. It's an old, old promise, made back when what I offered wasn't so dangerous. They're cashing in now and I'm obligated."

Fen stared at Gord. "Spy, what do you think?"

"I don't mind Fen. It's been too long since I've been to K'lax. I think Gord is overreacting about what the Empire will do if they see us. We go in, we drop off the passenger and link away. We don't even have to stay a whole day docked if we don't want to. The money is good, and I'd love to get that last reactor restored with some actual human parts." They were running on the full compliment of six reactors these days, but Spy didn't trust all of them to run at War Emergency Power. She maintained that only the humans could overbuild a reactor to output at 400% reliably. Fen thought that it would be better to make the reactors not have to run in Emergency power, but both Gord and Spy scoffed.

Fen crossed her legs and nodded to herself. "Spy, Gord, if you're both okay with it, then I'm okay with it. Let's pick up this K'laxi and take them home."

Gord smiled wanly. "I was afraid you were going to say that."

[mama-qwerty]

Okay. So.

The Sonic 3 trailer.

First of all, I watched this with my whole family, so didn't see it until about 2:30 this afternoon. My son is the one who got me into Sonic in the first place, so I thought it was only fair that I wait until he got home from school so we could watch it together.

We all absolutely loved it, and think it looks like a really fun ride.

I've rewatched it a few times, and a few things stood out to me.

The Race Scene

The little bit at the beginning when the three are having what looks like a race into the forest back home. Maybe they're actually racing or playing capture the flag or some other kind of game to give them some enrichment and exercise (so they don't cause shenanigans). Based on a few other quick shots, it looks like they're having fun.

Now, further into the trailer we see Knuckles kicking off Big Ben, and Sonic zipping up the side of a bridge, much like he did off the log back home during this game. I'm thinking we'll see a parallel of the game at some point, where they maybe need to work together, or just need that connection to home to really focus and get the job done. (I'm guessing they're going after whatever that ship is that's coming out of the water. Maybe. I dunno. The time of day looks right, though.)

Team Sonic Working With GUN

Walters isn't recruiting the boys out of just desperation. He wants to see them in action, wants to know what they're capable of. And he's only going to tell them what he wants them to know. They're not chomping at the bit to join the very organization that tried to capture them (Sonic and Tails) or likely hold them accountable for partnering with Robotnik the last time (Knuckles).

Sonic calls Shadow a "rogue alien", which would be odd if he knew Shadow's true origins. Walters likely told them Shadow appeared on earth 50 years ago and was subdued and put into status, but escaped and now is a danger to the planet. They likely don't even know he's a hedgehog. Which would explain Sonic's claim of not wanting to fight once they realize he's like them.

Which ends badly for all three.

My guess is that line about how "Shadow isn't too different from Sonic" is said later, once the family confronts Walters about who this other hedgehog really is. Walters has no choice but to fess up (to a point) and tell them what happened.

"What did you do?"

Sonic says this line with such a combination of anger and fear and pain that I can only guess that Shadow did something to Sonic's family. Likely Tom. This would cause Sonic to drop all pretense of jovial banter, and get really, really pissed.

I've seen theories that this maybe brings about Dark Sonic, which would be cool, but I have my doubts. But it will test Sonic's heart, calling back to the scene at the beginning that Tom said his heart never changed after everything. If Sonic thinks Shadow hurt (or killed) someone he loves, he would feel very conflicted in how he'd react to that.

Robotnik

Okay. So, he's back, no surprise there, and he's looking really unkempt. Depression does that to a person. I'm eager to see the back and forth that gets him to agree to work with the boys, and wouldn't put it past him to demand the Master Emerald as payment. To which Knuckles will of course refuse, which is why Sonic will give him one of his quills instead.

He likely has no idea about Shadow, as it seems as though Shadow escapes on his own. (Or does he? Could Robotnik have access to whatever containment system Shadow's been kept in, and releases him simply to cause mayhem?)

The group somehow end up at what used to be the ARK for some reason. I take it this is where Robotnik double crosses the boys (shocker!) and chains them up to let Shadow finish them off.

This is also where he meets his grandfather, Gerald. (He calls Gerald Pap Pap, which is a term some people use for their grandfathers, myself included.)

Now, here's where I have a few theories. It could really be Gerald, still alive and running on his anger after all these years. If he stayed at the ARK after the military overran it, that would be 50 some years of solitude, where he's dwelling on what happened, why it happened, and what could have been done to prevent it. He's become twisted and insane, seeing humanity as a plague and releasing Shadow to enact his revenge.

Or, based on how identical Ivo and Gerald look, it's possible 'Gerald' is actually Ivo himself. Maybe a subplot of this is the chaos emeralds, they need to find them so Sonic can be powerful enough to stop Shadow. But maybe they're like the Infinity Stones, and one has the power to manipulate time. Ivo gets hold of it, goes back in time, and proceeds to use the quill that Sonic gave him during their little agreement to work together to create Shadow.

Or the chaos emerald itself was used to create Shadow as well, and that's why he's got so much chaos energy in him that he can't control. He can't find that damn fourth chaos emerald, because he IS the fourth chaos emerald.

Or, Ivo is a clone that Gerald made of himself to continue his research. When the ARK was raided, all of Gerald's experiments were taken, including Gerald IV--that the government named Ivo before placing him into an orphanage.

I dunno. None of these are likely true. But they're fun to play with and think about.

Tails

Adorable as ever. I'm hoping we get some more engagement and action from him.

Knuckles

My boy. Needs an ice pack for that wrist. Just wanna scoop him up and care for him. I hope we see some good interactions between him and the rest of the family.

Shadow

He looks good. Like, really good. I'm not 100% sold on the voice acting, but we've only heard 2 lines from him, so I'm reserving judgment on that. The fight scenes look great, and he's a very formidable adversary for the boys. Unlike anything any of them have seen or fought before. Running on pure grief and anger, he's thrown into a world he doesn't understand, and doesn't care to because it stole his sister from him.

~~~

I found the trailer very fun, and am excited for the movie. And I'm happy to see some excitement for the SCU out there again.

[something-tofightfor]

Smutsgiving Feast 2023: Turkey - Joel Miller

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Word Count: 2,913

Rating: M. It's suggestive more than anything.

Author's Note: Writing a new Joel is very, very strange for me. But I've had the idea in my head to write a more settled Joel that helps a new arrival Reader get accustomed to life in Jackson knocking around in my head for a while - and this is the end result. It's weird jumping in on them mid-relationship, but here we are.

Warnings: mention of a traumatic past for Reader, typical TLOU canon elements, allusions to Joel's past. Talk of hunting animals (for food).

Summary: Joel likes to provide - and there's more than one thing he wants to provide for you now that you're in Jackson and have let him into your life.

It was nothing like it had been two decades prior, but the feel of a bow and arrow in his hands for sport was still thrilling. 

Though he preferred to use weapons that were a little more reliable when it came to infected or dangerous humans, he preferred bow hunting whenever possible. Being in Jackson gave him much more of an opportunity to be patient, too, the results of a hunt no longer meaning the difference between life and death.

He took a breath and scanned the open field in front of him, eyes searching for any sign of movement. They were only a few miles outside of town, but the area felt desolate, he and Tommy more than comfortable splitting up to cover more ground since they could see so far off into the distance. 

And they’d been somewhat successful that morning; four large turkeys were already strung up and waiting to be taken back into town. Tommy - and Maria - had estimated that seven total were needed so that the entire town could be fed. But I’m gettin’ another one for us. He sighed, eyes still on the grassy clearing. So we can have leftovers. That meant they needed four more birds, and only had a few more hours to make the quota before they needed to head back. “We can do it.” He pulled the cap down lower over his ears, shivering at a gust of wind. “Easy.” 

— 

It had been easy. 

Three hours later, Joel and Tommy were back on their horses, the necessary number of turkeys procured and lashed behind the saddles. Both were in good spirits as they rode back, Tommy explaining that though he could take the bird home and finish dressing it himself, that there were people in Jackson that were great at it - and looked forward to hunting trips throughout the year because it meant they got to practice the skill. 

“You mean you do this every year?” Joel blinked in surprise, his grip on the reins tightening. No one told me last year. “Go huntin’ for the entire town and -”

“Yes. And especially this time of year. It’s Thanksgiving, Joel. Of course we do.” Tommy looked over, shrugging. “We might celebrate it in the fall every year, but it doesn’t mean we’re thankful for the same things now that we were before.” He scoffed in reply, Joel’s eyes closing as he glanced down. No, we ain’t. “It’s not about gettin’ to this country anymore, but … some of us still bein’ here and rememberin’ the ones that aren’t.” 

There was nothing that he could say in reply to that, so Joel just clicked his tongue and dug his heels in slightly, urging the horse to move a little faster. 

— 

He’d chosen to take his turkey home, telling Tommy that he and Maria could get to the house early afternoon the next day for dinner. The younger man confirmed that he understood before heading in the opposite direction. By the time Joel was seated on the back porch with a pile of turkey feathers next to him - some of them set off to the side, a few of the larger tail and wing feathers saved because he thought you might be able to use them for something - he’d started to run through what needed to be done that day. 

It was really no different than the strategizing that he’d done previously, except that the stakes were different. Not lower, but… different. 

It was as simple as making a plan and sticking to it - utilizing good time management. But despite the relative ease of day to day life in Jackson, Joel found himself questioning everything as he slowly poured the salt water mixture over the plucked and prepped turkey, adding the vegetables and herbs Ellie had left for him. 

He covered the basin, securing the plastic sheet with a few coils of rope, and Joel finally took a deep breath, looking around the laundry room, which stayed the coldest of any room in the house. Ellie had commissary duty that night, which meant Joel had time, and so he washed his hands thoroughly and changed his shirt, slipping his boots on before grabbing the bag of feathers. 

The route to your place was one he knew by heart, and it felt right to be heading there, which still surprised him. Joel’s quickened pace was thanks to the wind and not due to the need for getting from A to B as quickly as possible for safety reasons. I’ll never get used to that.

There was a light on in your window. When he climbed onto the porch and knocked, it only took you a few seconds to answer, surprise widening your eyes at the sight of him. “Joel? I didn’t think you were back yet.” 

“We got home early.” He held the bag up and out to you, nodding. “Brought you some feathers. Donno if you can use ‘em, but I thought …” Thought it’d be nice to check. 

“Arrows and lures.” Your smile was genuine, and you reached to take the bag from him immediately. “I can make and trade them before spring. It’ll… it’ll help, Joel. Thank you.” Silence fell over the two of you then, and just before he could open his mouth to speak, you beat him to it, clearing your throat twice first. “Did you and Tommy get enough turkeys for the whole town?”

“We did.” He nodded, eyeing you. “And one extra for us.” 

“Us?” You frowned, thinking. “You mean you and Ellie and Tommy and Maria?” 

“And you.” He stepped closer, reaching up to rub at the back of his neck. “If you want to come.” 

“You want me there?” Taking a deep breath, you looked away and then back at Joel, uncertainty dominating your expression, though he saw some hope in it, too. “I’m not family.” 

“You sure about that?” He reached out, taking your hand. “Because ever since you got here, -”

“I’m not talking about Jackson, Joel.” You were nervous to speak, your gaze landing everywhere but on his face. “I don’t want to intrude on the Miller celebration.”

“Ellie’d be just as upset as me if you weren’t there.” He squeezed your hand, saying your name. “You’re as good as family. Been tellin’ you that for a while now.” He watched your reaction; saw the tremble of your lower lip and then your single nod, the man pulling you closer and wrapping his free arm around your body. “Maybe it’s somethin’ I need to tell you more.” 

— 

You’d showed up just before noon the following day, a covered basket of fresh-baked rolls carried on one arm and the neck of a wine bottle held between the fingers of your other hand. It was Ellie that welcomed you, the girl flinging the door open and then yelling back to him that you were here, followed by her directing you to the kitchen. 

And when you’d entered, he’d looked away from the stove, a knife held in one hand and a raw potato in the other. “Hey, Joel.” You held up the basket. “Brought bread.” Lifting your other hand, you finally smiled. “And wine.” 

“You didn’t need to do that.” Setting what he held down, Joel wiped his hands on a towel and stepped toward you. “I told you just to bring yourself.” 

“Yeah, well.” Putting the bottle and basket down on the counter, you looked behind you and at the table. “When was the last time I listened to one of your suggestions?” His lips twitched, the man only holding his smile back for a few seconds. “That’s what I thought. Let me put these down and I can help you, if you need it.” 

He didn’t need the help, but there was no way he was going to pass up on time spent with you. “You can get the beans ready if you want. And the carrots.” There was only a slight hesitation, and then you nodded, crossing the room to where he stood. He wasn’t prepared for you to press a palm to the center of his chest and lean in, your lips easily finding the bare patch on his bearded cheek. 

“Thank you for including me today, Joel.” 

— 

It was only the second Thanksgiving he’d celebrated since the outbreak, but as Joel looked around the table and saw his family there - Ellie deep in conversation with Tommy, and you and Maria laughing together over something he hadn’t quite caught, he felt content for the first time in a long time. 

“Are you going to cut that turkey up, or are we just going to stare at it?” Ellie’s question jolted him out of his thoughts, Joel blinking himself back into focus. “I mean it smells great and all, but -”

“Yeah, big brother. Longer it sits there, the more I’m guessin’ it’s real dry inside.” Tommy leaned back in his chair, grinning. “Otherwise you would have already been diggin’ in.” 

“It’s not dry.” He picked up the knives, shaking his head back and forth. “Fuck off, Tommy.” That got a laugh out of everyone, and as the knife pierced the skin of the turkey, Joel felt relief. Thank fuck. 

It was perfectly cooked, each motion of the blade revealing that truth inch by inch. As he continued to carve, Joel glanced up and saw that you were staring at him, eyes locked on what his hands were doing and the motion of his forearms, which were exposed thanks to the pushed back sleeves of his shirt.

He liked it when you stared - when your attention was fully on him and your mind was at ease for even a few seconds at a time. He winked at you, embarrassment flashing in your eyes as you realized you’d been caught. Gotcha. Joel looked back down at what he was doing, inhaling the scent of the roasted meat and letting it bring back the memories from more than 20 years prior. It hurts, he admitted as he started to transfer the cut slices to a smaller platter, Sarah’s smiling face flashing in his mind. But maybe just a little less this year than last. 

— 

A few hours later, Tommy and Maria were on their way home and Ellie was parked on the couch, a blanket pulled up to her chin while she eyed whatever was playing on the TV. You were in the kitchen, helping Joel with the dishes, though both of you were silent. It wasn’t an uncomfortable one, though, and he was thankful for that - but he wasn’t expecting you to break it the way you did. 

“You used to cook before, didn’t you.” Glancing over at him, the towel in your hand circling over a freshly cleaned dish. “It’s been a long time since I’ve had a meal like this, but I remember how stressed my parents got when they hosted for the first time, and you … you weren’t stressed tonight.” 

“I did.” He rinsed out a glass and passed it to you, nodding. “It was just the three of us - me an’ Tommy and my daughter, but I always made Thanksgiving dinner.” He paused, looking out the window. “She loved it.” 

“Yeah. My brother did, too.” You went silent again, watching the way he rinsed the sink out, and when Joel was done, he turned to look at you, brow furrowed. “When I got here last year, Joel, I thought … I don’t know what I thought, but it wasn’t… this.” You gestured around the kitchen, shrugging. “After all that time in the QZ and on the road and with … them, I figured this - Jackson - was too good to be true, so I didn’t want to get comfortable.” 

He understood. Your life had been a nightmare between the outbreak and you stumbling into Jackson with a broken wrist and scraped up skin from your successful escape. But in the time you’d been safe behind Jackson’s walls, he’d seen you change - watched you come out of the protective shell you’d forced yourself into just to survive. “I thought the same thing, after everything that happened to me an’ everything I did.” He moved closer, cautiously putting a hand on your waist and waiting for you to react before he did the same with his other one. “But it ain’t.”

“I know.” Tilting your head back, you smiled - the expression soft. “And if you can get used to this and accept it, Joel? I can, too.” There was a still a long way to go - Joel knew as well as you did that trauma recovery could take a long time. But your progress in only a little more than a year’s time was remarkable, as was the way you’d bonded with him, the relationship starting as mutual trust and growing into more much faster than he’d anticipated. “I’m glad you asked me to come.” 

“Didn’t want today without you here.” He pressed his lips together, thinking. “Woulda felt wrong.” 

And that was the truth - he was still skeptical of many things, but the way he felt about you and your place in his life wasn’t one of them. “Well I’m here.” Reaching up, you pushed a curl of softly graying hair behind his ear. “And I think I should probably tell you that the sight of you with that knife in your hand earlier was …” You winced, embarrassed. “I liked it a little too much, I think.” 

“You think?” He spoke before he could stop himself, both brows shooting up. “That kinda hurts my pride a little.” You laughed at that, rolling your eyes. He liked seeing you when you weren’t on edge, glimpses of the person you’d likely been before peeking through. It had only taken a few months of knowing you for him to realize that those times often coincided with the time you spent together, which made little sense. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to keep makin’ it happen.

“Shut up, Joel.” The words were barely more than a whisper, and as you closed the distance to kiss him, you sighed, saying a few more. “You know what I mean.” The kiss was soft, a quick shuffle of your feet closing the distance between you almost entirely. Joel would have been content to stay that way with you right there - arms around each other, lips connected, the warmth of your bodies shared despite the chill from outside that seeped in beneath the crack under the door. 

But Ellie had other plans. 

“Can you two… not?” Her voice startled both of you, Joel’s head whipping toward the sound and finding her with her hands on her hips in the entryway, nose wrinkled. “Or like … do that somewhere else? We have to eat in here.” You laughed first and then Joel joined you, though his hands didn’t move from their positions at your waist. 

“We’re done in here anyway.” You sighed, covering your mouth with your hand. “And I should get going. It’s late, and -”

“No, don’t go!” Ellie whipped her head back and forth, eyes wide. “I didn’t mean… shit.” Her attention returned to him, and Joel could almost feel the concern in her expression. Dammit, Ellie. He gave her a smile though - just a tiny one - in reassurance, and when Ellie spoke again, it was almost hasty. “I was just giving you a hard time. I didn’t mean to … please stay. The two of you should even stay in here if you want. I’ll just … find some bleach and clean everything off before I use it and …” 

“Christ, Ellie.” Joel groaned and you did move away from him at that, though you were barely holding back laughter. “We get it.” 

“Ok, great. I’m gonna go back to my movie now.” She mouthed a single word - sorry - at him and then disappeared back into the living room, leaving the two of you alone. 

“She’s really got a way with words, hmm?” Arms crossed over your chest, you leaned back against the center island, staring at him while you spoke. “I’d say that she’s been influenced by the teenagers here, but …”

“Hell no, she’s probably the one influencing them.” You both chuckled at his words, but when Joel spoke again, his tone had changed, a little seriousness creeping back in. “I agree with her, though. Don’t go. I hoped you’d stay a while.” 

“She’s using the living room.” Pointing with one finger, you stared at him. “And it’s freezing out. That narrows down our options.” 

“It does.” He watched your face as you spoke, the mischievous look in your eyes intensifying. “But I think I’ve got an idea.”

“Yeah?” Biting your lip, you pushed forward and reached out to him again, fingers linking with his. “I think I’ve got the same idea.” 

He never pushed you - never wanted to make you feel like he expected anything - but the longer he spent with you and watched you handle yourself in Jackson, the more Joel realized that you didn’t always need to be approached as delicately as had been necessary in the beginning. Especially not now, when it’s just us. 

“Let’s go upstairs, Joel.” Glancing up, you blew out a slow breath. “I didn’t really want to leave, but I’m sure you knew that already.” 

“Good.” He ducked his head down again, mouth hovering over your ear. “Because I think I’m gonna keep you occupied until morning.” 

—- 

[weneeya]

Hi! First, I wanna say I hope you're doing well! Second, I love your writing, I've only just found your blog recently, but you've very quickly become one of my favorite writers on tumblr 🥰. Last thing, if you're okay with it, I was wondering if I could make a request for a Gajeel x reader where the reader and Gajeel have been together for a couple years, and has a more muscular build than quite a few of the other women in Fairy Tail, her strength rivals Erza's because of the training she's done for herself. As much as she loves being as strong as she is thanks to all her hard work, she still gets insecure about how she looks believing she has too much of a masculine type of build, and Gajeel takes it upon himself to show her how much he loves her as she is. It could be headcannons of different ways he shows her, or a oneshot, however you wanna do it. Thank youuu, hope your day goes well!!!

stronger than me w/ gajeel m.list | rules

note. omg i'm sorry i took a bit long to do your request but i loved the idea so much that i wanted to do it perfectly!! thank you for your words, it's making me sooo happy <3 i hope i've been able to do what you expected from me :)

he always thought he would love someone to protect, someone so much weaker 

until he met you 

you’re strong, one of the strongest even ; with your magic but also physically 

your arms? your thighs? lord he would give everything to get crushed by them

you love being strong, he knows it 

but he also knows that it’s making insecure sometimes, because you’re not all shy and small and girly 

he’s bad at showing how much he loves and adores you, but he’s doing his best 

always asking you to come with him when he’s doing a quest ; alone or not, it doesn’t matter, he always want you to come 

asks you to train with him and Lily, saying you could learn a thing or two from each other

it happened one time, but he came on the guild’s stage to sing for you : most embarrassing thing he ever done, but also probably the most adorable one

fighting with the boys about who have the best girlfriend ; always ends up with no winner because they’re fighting 

you feel a bit stupid for even doubting how much he could love you, but it’s never bad to get a reminder

but he’s always sure he’s not doing enough 

Gajeel was sitting at the bar of the guild, head resting against the counter as he seemed completely depressed. Mirajane looked at him, tilting his head to the side. It was unusual to see him like that, because he was the type to never give up. 

“What’s wrong?” She asked, and a long sigh left the dragon slayer’s lips. “y/n is not feeling well, I heard her talking with Levy the other day. She thinks she’s too masculine, but I don’t know how to show her she’s perfect.” A smile appeared on the girl’s lips, and she crossed her arms. 

“Did you try telling her? Like you’re doing right now?” Gajeel sat up straight almost immediately, a blush rushing across his face. “Are you crazy? I can’t do that!” It was almost like Mirajane asked him to do the most difficult thing ever. She laughed slightly, and Gajeel looked away with a pout. 

“Nothing would be clearer than your words themselves,” she said, and he knew she was right. He took a deep breath before standing up and leaving in a hurry. You weren’t in the guild, neither was Lily ; so he knew exactly where you were. In a few minutes, he was at the spot where you were training with Lily. 

He cleared his throat loudly, making both of you stop. You looked at him, a bit surprised to see your boyfriend here. You stepped closer, an eyebrow raised. “Is everything okay?” You asked, and Gajeel took a deep breath. 

“You’re perfect as you are,” he started, and you blinked a few times, not understanding what was happening. You were about to say something, but he stopped you. It was difficult enough without you intervening. 

“I don’t want you to ever doubt yourself, especially how you look. You’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen and I adore every inch of you. I don’t care if you’re not all small and fragile ; I love you for how you are and I love everything about it.” He was almost out of breath. 

You stayed silent for a few moments, because you didn’t expect any of this to happen. You noticed how he was trying to make an effort recently, but you never thought he would come to you to say it like this to your face. Slowly, a smile appeared on your lips. You cupped his face between yours hands, leaving a small kiss against his lips. 

“Thank you Gajeel. I appreciate it, I really do,” you said, and a smile appeared on his own lips right after your words. That was all he wanted to see. You were the prettiest when you were smiling, and nothing should make you doubt this.

thank you!!

[alexdelray1]

Part Two. 42 Miles Morales x Reader.

I love everyone who leaves a heart and a comment (^^)

Btw

Miles will be from 42.

Miles will be Miles from 1610.

Part one:

What happened in the last part?

Aron left the room saying something to him and after a while he came out… Prowler?

Oh, what's a girl to do.

He got close to Miles and said something while taking off his mask. Wait, is that?

Just like fire burning up the way.

If I could light the world up for just one day.

Watch this madness, colorful charade.

Miles?

No one can be just like me any way!

End of reminder.

It's probably a mistake. It's not even remotely possible. Miles isn't bad, he always helps everyone, yes he has a bad temper sometimes, but to be a villain?

Pull yourself together Reader. You have to separate your private life from the one with a mask. Even though it seems impossible now, it has to be done.

I adjusted the mask on my face and took a deep breath. We have to save-- I didn't finish the monologue because I heard a small explosion.

I looked out the window again and saw Miles use electricity or something to attack Miles. Miles jumped to the ceiling and tried to jump out of the window where I was. When he jumped out, I quickly grabbed his costume and started swinging with him.

-Who are you?!- Miles asked me, trying to get away from me.

-Reader. Miles, do you realize what earth you are on? - I asked him and still held him tightly.

-Not really.- he replied numbly.

-You are on Earth 42, where you are… the villain. This is not your earth. - I said and looked behind me. Miles chased me with his uncle.

-Can you swing well now? - I asked him while running away.

-Yes! I've been Spider-man for almost a year! - he said, still holding on to me.

-Do you have a mask?- I asked, still avoiding the bullets flying at me.

-In a jacket!- he shouted at me.

-The plan is that you run away, fly as close to the police station as possible and if he stops chasing you, sit on the roof of the police station and try not to get shot. - I said and as soon as I was at the highest point in the air I could, I let him go and kept swinging.

Miles fled towards the police station and, as I suspected, Aron followed him. Miles was on my tail constantly shooting. I did a lot of dodging until I saw a big old building. I flew into it and prepared for the attack.

After a second, Miles flew into me and they stood in a defensive pose.

-I wanted to ask you how you knew where I was. It shows that you proprably have a chip in your friend. - he commented and we started walking around.

-Maybe I have it, maybe I don't, but I can tell you one thing now, Miles Morales, you're wasting yourself.- I said seriously, trying not to show weakness.

-You don't know how many times I've heard that. I know whether it is a waste or not. Anyway, it's a pity that you saw who I am now, I'll really have to kill you. - he said and shot at me. I dodged.

-Do you know that if you do this, you will completely fuck up your universe? - I asked him.

-So this is about the universe? So this guy is some other me? Strange, I thought he was my clone.- he commented.

-Miles, I know we don't have a good relationship, but try for the sake of the universe. You may not believe me, but a bad thing happened in your universe last year. Very. And because of this thing, this universe was doomed, but I came and saved it. Understand. - I said, trying to be serious and kind to some extent.

Miles didn't speak for a moment. Finally he sighed.

-What's going on with this clone?- he asked me and crossed his arms.

-He's just in the wrong place at the wrong time, I guess… - I said.

-How so? - he asked me.

-No one really told me what it was about, but I had heard about an anomaly that had something to do with it. It was very strong… But there will be proprably a fight here. - I grabbed my head.

-Scale?- he asked me.

-Depends. I think it will take the upper fifth avenue. Looking at other universes, that's where the most important fights take place, I said.

-Upper fifth Avenue? Reader lives there. I have to get her.- he said and headed to the window.

-You don't have to.- I replied and he turned to me.

-Why don't I have to? This is my girlfriend. What if something happens to her?! - he asked me and got angry.

-You know, you're not very good at guessing. And I'm sorry I didn't drink tea then.- I said.

-What do you mean?- he asked me, probably reaching some conclusions.

-Think, genius.- I said. Well, to be so delulu. I can't believe I smashed him.

-Were you stalking me and my girlfriend?- he asked and I slapped my forehead. I'm starting to believe that some people must have delulu in their genes.

I took off my mask.

-Satisfied?- I asked and raised my hands.

-Reader? You? But… But… How is that possible? - he asked. He was seriously shocked.

-Miles, I have to tell the truth. I am not from Earth 42. My universe was destroyed by a certain person… As an 'apology' I was given this universe to live in. In this universe, spider-man couldn't become spider-man because of a certain incident, so to keep the balance, I stayed here. - I said with guilt.

-Who was supposed to be Spider-man?- Miles asked me.

-You, but I had no idea you would become a Prowler.- I replied.

Miles looked down. His mask electrically came off his face. Tears were falling from his eyes. I ran to him and hugged him.

-If I became Spider-man, would dad be alive?- he asked me.

-Probably yes.- I replied and he started crying into my shoulder.

-Everything will be fine.- I said quietly.

From now on we will work together no ma--

BANG!

BANG!

BANG!

Three bullets hit my back. Miles looked at me in horror and then behind me. He took me in his arms and started shouting something.

I don't know what is happening… I'm tired… Why is everything so muffled? I don't know. I want to go home…

[jungle-angel]

these farmcore prompts all look so good! but you’ve talked a lot about the floyd family and farmer’s markets, would you mind expanding on that with #1 and bob, please? ☀️

OOoooooh absolutely my dear, I'd be more than happy to do so (lol).

"You got her?" you asked, unbuckling yourself from the passenger seat of the truck.

"Yep, I've got Deidre if you've got the two little demons next to her," Bob chuckled.

You jumped out of the truck and into the crisp fall air, cool and almost biting as you unbuckled Auggie and Patrick from their carseats and helped them down to the ground in the dirt and gravel parking lot where you had parked. It was one of those days where it was peak season for the markets and for all the things that came with the fall.

Bob lifted four month old Deidre out of her own carseat, kissing her soft pink cheeks as he wrapped her loosely in her Irish knit blanket his grandmother had made for her.

"Do we need to get the stuff out of the back of the truck?" you asked.

"Nah, my brothers can get it," Bob said with a dismissive wave. "Besides, I think Hangman and Rooster are driving my mother and father crazy."

You laughed as Bob's brothers, Sean, Michael, Eugene and Liam, all went around to the back of the truck and began unloading the produce, crates and baskets for the stands.

You couldn't believe how huge the market was this year, nor had you seen so many people in one place. So many farm and ranching families had come to make an extra penny, some as a side hustle and others just to keep the farm or the ranch afloat. All around the bright reds, yellows, oranges and browns exploded from the tops of the trees while the smells of cinnamon, pumpkin, apples and hot autumn lunches reached your nostrils.

Sure enough, you found Rooster and Hangman both with Bob's mother, Irene, and his grandmother, Marty. The Nguyens had the stall across from the Floyds, both Philip and his wife conversing back and forth in rapid Vietnamese that was easily lost in the cacophony of chatter surrounding you and Bob.

"Dare you to eat one," Hangman told Rooster when Rooster was done filling a basket full of long, thin, wrinkly looking chili peppers from Irene's garden.

"No thanks Bagman," Rooster told him. "I don't wanna be parked on the can, shootin fire outta my ass all day long."

"Oh c'mon," Hangman insisted.

"Jake, we are not burning down the farmstand," Irene said, pretending to chide him. "This is the one thing that helps keep the ranch afloat and the last thing we want is the newspapers reporting that the market burned down from you two lighting your own farts on fire."

"Oh honey come off it," Marty chuckled as she filled the small wooden barrel buckets with apples and peaches from the orchards. "Navy boys used to do alot worse back in my day."

You and Bob caught the tail end of the conversation, greeting your friends and family as the first few customers came up to make their purchases. "You guys all doin ok?" Bob asked.

"Yeah save for the fact that ass-jack over here is trying to make me eat one of your Meemaw's chili peppers," Rooster pointed out.

"Hey!" Hangman cut it.

"Any idea where the other numbskulls are?" Bob asked.

"Mickey's helping your dad and grandfather and so isn't Natasha," Irene explained as she plated some of Marty's soft, cakey cinnamon cookies and stuck them on the counter with the rest of the baked goods. "Javy and Reuben? I have no idea where they went."

You and Bob glanced at each other curiously, but no matter, they were bound to turn up somewhere.

"Alright my lovely queen," Joe called out as he placed a crate full of glass bottles full of milk. "This is the last of the milk, straight from the cow herself."

Bob snorted and smothered a laugh. You carefully put Deidre in her little wicker basket while your two sons ran off with their grandfather to finish off the last of the unloading.

You and Bob were in absolute heaven as you helped people with their orders, handing out hot cups of cider, little bags full of apples, peaches, little teal colored containers full of strawberries, blueberries, blackberries and raspberries, chili peppers, potatoes, lettuces, cabbages, carrots, onions and so many other things that had grown easily on the Floyd land.

The baked goods of course had been the biggest hit with Marty's cinnamon cookies being the favorite of the kids who would come by, along with slices of Irene's coffee cake, chocolate and caramel turtles, carrot cake bites, cinnamon and pumpkin cake donuts and steaming hot cups of pumpkin and cinnamon flavored coffee. However, the antics that had ensued were a little less than expected.

"Hi, I'm cute, why don't you take a photo with me, it's just a dollar," Jake said, holding a giggling Baby Deidre up in front of his face, his voice as high pitched as it could possibly go.

"Jacob Glen Seresin! Put my baby down!" you demanded.

"Oh c'mon (y/n)," he pretended to whine. "She's cute, it'll help rake in extra money."

You rolled your eyes, handing off a carrot cake square to an elderly woman and her husband. "I wouldn't worry about it (y/n)," Bob assured you. "Ten to nothing, she'll spit-up on him later."

Bob had spoken a little too soon when a flabbergasted Jake looked at the two of you, the front of his shirt covered in a splatter of white goo. "Um.......um......I dunno what just happened," he stammered.

"C'mere princess," Bob said, taking your daughter from her uncle's arms gently putting her over his shoulder and patting her back.

You handed Jake the dish rag, feeling a little bad for him. "Thanks (y/n)," he said.

"No worries dumbass," you replied with a chuckle. "This is why we love you guys."

All day long you and Bob did what you could to help out at the farmstand, selling all the goods that had come from the farm. You and Bob lived for days like this, when you could be surrounded by friends, family and all that came from the land itself.

[ontheoddoccasioniwritestuff]

Star-crossed in the Crosshairs (John Price x Reader)

Chapter 2: I've Said Too Much

Fic Summary: This mission is the pinnacle of your efforts for the past three years. Your whole team and yourself have worked countless hours, slaughtered hundreds, risked life and limb for scraps of intel, and now it all boiled down to pairing up with another taskforce to get this job done and dusted. An unexpected spanner in the works comes in the shape of your former best friend, now also a Captain and somehow resurrected from his KIA status, John Price.

You can’t afford to let feelings - old and new - get in the way of your purpose. No matter how much you’ve missed, wished for, loved him, and no matter how much he might feel the same.

Content Warnings: Usual COD content (violence, torture, death, guns), mutual pining, back from the dead, friends to allies to lovers, Reader is GN, some use of Y/N.

Chapter 1 // Masterlist // AO3 Version // Chapter 3

You were dropped off like kids at school, waving off the heli as its blades cast pulses of air across the natural landscape, your uniforms rippling against the swift tide. Your ride floated back into the air and swivelled back the way it came. Fading fast, your ears still strained to hear its farewell whilst you adjusted your vest strap so that it was tucked away and irritating you no longer.

Thus began the hike. You thanked your workout regimen that you were able to power-walk up an incline whilst carrying a heavy duty rucksack and replying to any remark made your way.

Any other day, you’d probably appreciate a walk through these forests. Pine trees thick and brusque, blocking anyone from spotting your team but preventing you from seeing them as well. Overcast clouds of the early evening aided your cover into night and meant you didn’t have to carry around sunscreen, force it on your teams whilst they squinted and whined about it, bunch of babies. Another saving grace was your boots, broken in enough that you never received blisters.

One of Čiernik’s lieutenants, an arm’s dealer called Markovič that he’d collaborated with more and more frequently over the past two years, was rumoured to be at this location, and his identity had been pinged crossing the border. Your first step was to reach the safehouse, an apartment in the town Fraleni, where Markovič was known to frequent, and intercept him on his biweekly visit to the only bar (called Los Gatos) tomorrow night. That was the worst thing to do as someone who wanted to remain under the radar: follow a strict routine.

“Makes you wonder what level of stupidly confident they are,” Crash muttered when you revealed this yesterday.

You had to agree, but not without its own warning: “As long as you don’t make the mistake of acting the same.”

Of course you were suspicious of this routine. Whether it was a trap or not, that remained to be seen. But you were prepared for that potential outcome – as prepared as you could be. Ever the restless beast, your mind ran with every outcome it could come up with.

After two hours, you let someone else lead the way – they’d read the maps, checked their compasses. Meanwhile, you played tail end Charlie for the next hour, watching how the two teams were becoming one. Soap and Bronze were directly in front of you – a few feet ahead, chatting about scars on their arms and their sources. Gaz and Crash, as expected, were next up but included Chance in their talk, occasionally reaching Ghost near the front. Price was leading the way now.

Respite from the growing risk assessments let you wonder when Price had adopted this new kind of hat. He’d had a baseball cap not unlike yours and Garrick’s. As a matter of fact, he borrowed one from you the last few missions you had together. You collected it from his bunk the day he was designated KIA, weeping on the bedsheets with it clasped to your chest as if it could reach and heal your heart, bring him back so you could annoy him into giving it back. It now sat folded and burning a hole in your back pocket.

“How do you know Price?”

Ghost, in your little thought tangent, had drawn back to step beside you. His strides were still longer than yours but you could sense his deliberate hesitation to go at full-steam ahead.

“We worked together, ‘just under a decade back. How’d you two cross paths?”

“Met him being assessed to become a Sergeant, then he brought me into the 141 four years ago.”

“Ah.” You didn’t really know what else to say, nor did you want to add anymore. In your brief time with the Lieutenant, and having pieced together pieces of his reputation, you figured he’d probably appreciate your mutual silence.

Not so mutual, it seemed.

“You’ve been after Čiernik for two years?”

“Three, five if you count the theory crafting.”

“I do.”

“Five it is.”

“That why Price didn’t get you on 141?”

A nervous itch began to whisper that Price had talked about you to the 141, and up until yesterday you’d been a name without a face.

“You’d have to ask him that,” You replied after that brief sabbatical into your thoughts.

“Hey Ghost!” Soap was walking with his head craned around as he yelled back, “You playin’ nice?”

“On my best behaviour,” Ghost replied, his Mancunian accent adding a natural humour to his words.

Soap barked out a laugh at that, and Chance followed up with: “Is that so, Captain?”

“Hmm, he’s gonna get a gold star for his manners,” You said.

Just as this steepness was causing you to break a sweat, your team found the vehicle left for you by an ally, a van with tinted windows. A view from the ridge revealed Fraleni nestled at the foot of the hill, with more modern amenities spreading over and out of the bowl of the valley, miniscule windows glowing in the dusk.

Gaz volunteered to drive, letting the rest of the team fight over the passenger seat, then the rest loading up into the back whilst Bronze enjoyed his seatbelt privileges.

“Last time I got in a car with Ghost at the wheel, crushed two guys with the truck bed and almost gave me whiplash,” Soap said to you, his grin boastful.

Ghost blinked slowly at this short story, “Got us out alive.”

The pride in Soap’s smile was still bold as brass, “You sure did.”

And even you could tell that Ghost was likely smiling beneath the balaclava. It vanished when the van bounced like a see saw, everyone letting out noises of distaste to drown out Gaz’s apology.

Backroads and their bumps brought you into the town. Tiny pavements kept the residence confined to it, and no one paid any mind to your vehicle as it weaved around under Bronze’s directions until it turned straight into a garage, the shutters locking in almost immediately after. Efficient, just the way you liked it, and exactly how you filed into the apartment above, scouting just in case. Plaster was spread across the walls like buttercream on a decorator’s first cake. Sparse decoration made the space feel less homely than if everything was bare, the thick layer of dust giving the safehouse apartment a haunting air. The only thing you could appreciate were the ornate rails at the windows, creating two Juliet balconies that perfectly overlooked

Los Gatos was populated with outdoor seating and a wall of glass that folded to leave it open to the unevenly paved street. The food looked miles better than the MRE awaiting your digestion; the smell wafted up across to your building, knocking on the glass. A foolish part of you suggested going down and grabbing some for the team tomorrow.

Satisfied with their initial survey, everyone gathered in the living room.

“Ghost-”

You stopped immediately, because someone was talking over you. Saying the exact same thing in fact. Price was mirroring your expression, his jaw ajar from cutting you off. The team flicked between you and Price like they were watching a discordant match of tennis, waiting for one to let the other score or take the point for themselves.

Within the following second, Price shifted his weight from one leg to the back with an apologetic expression, his hand gesturing to the team, “Your op.”

Why did him passing the mantle back to you feel so irritating? Childishly you wanted to disagree, offer the reply of “your team”. But it was technically your operation, not the polite Olympics. Last thing you needed was your team – now technically both Banshee and 141 – getting the wrong idea about chain of command out here. It was your call.

You started over: “Ok, Ghost, get on the radio to Laswell and update her. Crash and Bronze, set up the perimeter. Gaz, set up sightlines by the windows for where we’ll take watch in slots. Soap, Chance, check the house’s layout for the exits, any dead ends. Once that’s done, we’ll get started on the MREs and organise a schedule for taking watch.”

Murmurs of “yes, Captain” and “on it” followed, bags dumped in the centre of the room before they scuttled off to fulfil their orders. You counted them as they went and landed back on Price who was adjusting a familiar knife handle on his right shoulder.

“What about me?” He asked, still with that relaxed manner meant to appease.

“Come check the plans with me.”

Upon the tiny island countertop, you spread out the plans that had been hiding in your bag’s front pocket. Price stood beside you, and you didn’t ignore how he leant in just a little before speaking.

“I think I owe you an explanation.” His voice was low, his eyes on the others in the room and if they were close enough to hear him. Only you were; a few inches between you and the brim of the boonie left you feeling both discomfited and desiring to lean in further. For fuck’s sake.

Though Price’s words were vague, you knew he was referring to your “unfinished business” – not the mishap over leadership just then, the fact that he’d been KIA in your mind longer than it was a misprint on official documents. Even if the desire to do so was there, you gave no time to playing coy or dumb, especially after such a hike and with so much ahead.

“You don’t need to tell me anything. I read what happened,” You said as you pulled out the blueprints of Los Gatos.

“You did?” Price’s expression and tone were a cross between incredulous and amused.

You remained as neutral as possible, “I requested your file, amongst your team’s. I like to know who I’m working with.”

Ok, that was unintentionally scathing. As you felt the words cross your lips, you felt an edge appear in the final few words to pass judgement on the man in front of you, the kind of man not to tell his best friend he’s not actually dead.

Price’s voice softened, “You’re angry.”

You were four days ago, reading that file of his, redacted areas held up to the light, a stiff drink cooling your palm and soothing your raw throat.

“I’m fine.” Weariness was slipping into your body language, out of the mask, so you adjusted and straightened up your posture. “I’m ready to go over the plans and get this sorted.”

“It’s long overdue, but-” A soft sigh popcorned in Price’s lungs. He must still be a smoker “-I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.”

That was at least partly true. His capture wasn’t his fault. The last time you heard him being a cry of pain in your earpiece then static wasn’t his fault. Your final moment replaying over and over in your mind, torturing you with every instance you could have intervened, possible or otherwise whilst knowing it was impossible to change it, that wasn’t his fault.

But the years between his return to the SAS and this moment were his fault. What you read about him doing in that span, those were his fault. Most of them were good things: preventing worldwide panic, catastrophe, terrorist attacks. But that long list of achievements and commendations did not report his decision to not reach out and relieve you of the pain you were in. Never sending news of his return, never inviting you to join the 141, never asking you to be a part of his life again.

And, again, you weren’t angry. You had been, and you’d also been devastated that you had evidently meant so little to him when he’d meant more than the world to you. But your head was clear, now that you had missed and mourned for Price longer than you’d known him. The whole ordeal put to bed from your point of view; you just wish he would do the same, for both your sakes.

Price didn’t press for whether you accepted or dismissed his apology, just let you have it and continue with the task at hand.

“Gaz’ll do well down there tomorrow, and Bronze too. I want Soap as sniper, just as a precaution. Chance too. You, Crash and Ghost can intercept in these paths should he make a break for it. I’ll be in the car, ready to take him to the rendezvous for questioning, or for back-up should you need it.”

Price’s affirming nods and hums to your plans were welcomed. They weren’t necessary, neither was his perspective on the plans that you knew were fine. Yet you’d asked for them anyway. Something to consider later.

After another quarter of an hour, you released him to join the others, who’d returned with their duties complete, reported to you their findings, and were opening their MREs – which gave Price an excuse to use that daft pair of scissors he insisted on carrying around with him. You stayed at the counter whilst they cooked, updating your thoughts in your ring-binder notepad. Soap did the same, except his was less tallies and more drawings from the brief glimpse you caught in the tattered leather jacket. You didn’t linger on him, busying yourself with your alone time six feet from the hubbub around the makeshift hobs.

It came to an end all too fast but you didn’t enter this profession for alone time. Chance brought you your plate – some kind of curry - which you accepted then followed her back to the group. No space on the sofas (cushions or arms) so you leant against the wall instead. You were still stirring your meal around in your mess tray when everyone else had finished.

“Captain?” You glanced up to see Chance holding up a deck of cards. “Shithead, you in?”

A short smile brushed across your face, “Sure.”

“I haven’t played in ages!” Gaz said in a tone of hushed awe.

Chance sifted through the deck carefully to check all cards were present, “Crash taught us. She can remind you.”

Already ahead of him, Crash eagerly explained to Soap who’d forgotten the rules and Gaz who was just along for the verbal ride. You let yourself get dealt in, joining around the coffee table. Ghost volunteered for first watch; you had a sneaking suspicion he would sweep the floor everyone if he got the chance to play later on. For the three rounds of Shithead, you were safe from embarrassment. Soap was the first Shithead, then Chance twice which she blamed on being sat beside Crash – merciless and high on breaking her four times Shithead streak.

Settling for the night, the team began choosing their spots on the floor, opting for the biggest room together rather than spread out into the minute bedroom. And if anyone opted to sleep on the bathroom floor, you would’ve asked for a psych eval the second you returned to your base.

You were woken up once, and you rolled over away, trying your best not to notice Price having words with Ghost during their shift swap.

Stirring again at what felt like seconds later, your watch quickly disproved this notion and informed you that it was two minutes until your watch. For that first minute, you continued to lay back, your eyes taking turns to be closed to prevent falling asleep again. The second minute started with you rubbing your eyes and pushing up from your sleeping bag. Then you glanced to where your next two hours would be

Price was sat against the wall, one knee bent, the dull light of his cigar softly illuminating his moustache and nose, but nothing more – attracting no unwanted attention from the street below.

“My turn, scoot.” Awoken somewhere in your muscle memory, your boot gently poked him on the ankle.

Price arched his back with a groan, his shoulder blades crunching as he did so. Then he grappled with his knee to stand up and swap spots with you.You restrained the urge to roll your eyes, the way you used to when he used to put on this act, sounding like a grandad getting out of his easy chair. He was fine. Fit as a damn fiddle.

“Nothing to report,” He whispered gruffly before taking your space on the floor.

Your back guided you down against the wall, and you drilled your stare through the glass. Seconds rolled over one another as you stared at the marmalade glaze that emitted from the scattered lampposts and coated the road. A snore arose from one of the many sleeping bags bundled around your fellow officers. Then another. You sighed in time with the third. Long night ahead.

_______________________________________

AN: Thank you for all the love on the first chapter! I saw the MW3 trailer and I’m Stressed™ about it. I just want all my boys n gals to live!!! That being said, it'll probably motivate me to keep writing, so that I can finish this before the game comes out and if Price dies, y'all have content whilst I go into mourning.

Taglist: @mockerycrow

[pomrania]

Time to actually start thinking about the Bestiaryposting creature of the week, if I want to get its design done today and the picture done tomorrow (because it was NOT fun, having to rush last week). This is the "narngreg".

Things actually mentioned about its physical description... it's beautiful, multi-coloured, "dabbed all over with very small circular spots [...] black and white colouring with eye-shaped circles of yellow", the young have sharp claws, gives birth to live young.

Things that are implied by what we're given.... Likely a mammal because of the whole "live birth" thing, but it could always be Something Weird (like a gryphon, which... honestly I'm not positive this isn't, like I don't THINK it's a gryphon but I can't be sure). It sleeps for a few days after eating until full. It's gentle and only has the dragon as its enemy... wait is this an elephant, because I remember reading that elephants were traditionally considered enemies of dragons in stuff like this; probably not, but I might use some elephant elements in this (claws and tusks are similar enough in concept, even though they'd be familiar with tusks from non-elephant animals because boars). Its breath smells sweet, and it's followed by other animals because of that, so it either naturally produces alcohol or it's a Disney princess. There's three offspring per birth, and only one successful pregnancy per animal.

...I'm kind of curious about how some bits are "Pliny says", "Physiologus says", and other bits are just plain reported as fact. @maniculum, if you've already information somewhere on this (that isn't a spoiler), could you please link it to me; otherwise, if you feel like rambling about what things were just described and what things had an appeal to a source, and why, I'd be interested in reading it. (No rush; I'll likely forget about this approximately ten seconds after posting, so I won't notice a difference between "near-immediate response" and "response half a year later".)

Most of the other features can be played around with -- even "sharp claws" is only specified for the YOUNG, it could be one of those things that falls off or gets blunted with maturity -- but the description is very specific about the colour and patterning. There's prolly a couple different ways to interpret it, but I've enough of a cognitive load with "designing an entire-ass creature based solely on vibes", so I'll go with what to me is the most straight-forward interpretation: the narngreg's base colours are white and black, in some combination, then there's yellow over it, like someone took paint to a zebra.

Now, what could the black and white stuff be like.... I mentioned "zebra", but I'm ruling that out for the very good reason of "I don't want to have to draw all those stripes". Dalmatian-type spots wouldn't fit the phrasing; something like pinto would, though, where it's large splotches. Looked up "tapir" because I half-remembered something, and that's definitely some black and white colouring; very distinct, white starting just behind the shoulders, continuing towards the rump, then stopping above the hindlegs (I can't tell if the tail is included in that area or not, and I don't care enough to keep searching further). "Orca" is another option, which has the added benefit of a light underside which is a feature I just keep coming back to because it is pretty.

"Eye-shaped circles of yellow"... I don't want to draw something that would LITERALLY look like an eye, because that would freak me out, which is undesirable for any piece I intend to spend time working on. Could be something like, I think the marking's called a "rosette", on a cheetah or leopard (can't remember which one it is). Could be almond-shaped; or, upon rereading the description, it might be something where the yellow bits are small enough I don't have to give them any detail.

So that's my rambling for the moment; ended up getting a few things figured out, and some other things where at least I've written down the possibilities so I won't have to go about it from scratch. Next update will be once I've gotten enough worked out in my mind that I can at least draw some options.

[cy-cyborg]

Ok so the saga with my old PC continues and is only fueling my desire to get back into fanfiction lol because I found all of the files from my attempt at making a legend of spyro fan-game! I honestly thought they were lost, I'm so excited to see all this stuff again! This was the "logo" for the game (I know its nearly unreadable lol, so it says "The Legend of Cynder, Shadows of The Past". 14/15 year old me didn't seem to care much for readability, I think I'd just discovered photoshop's layer effects lol)

Here's a bunch of random stuff I found.

I'm defiantly going to do a redraw of that last one at some point. That was like, THE thing I remember being super proud of when I first did it. I think it was going to be part of the trailer my now-partner was putting together for the game lol.

Actually, a lot of these were actually just frames from animations, but either the files are either just corrupted, or high school me didn't know how to set fps and resolution properly in the output so I got a headache trying to watch them lol. It's probably the second one honestly. Also I remember my old laptop wasn't able to play back the animation because it would lag so much, so I just had to kind of...guess at timing, and that went about as well as you'd expect. It didn't help that blender used to have this bug where your audio would move around your timeline so it really was just random guessing. I'm amazed anything got done at all, let alone how far we actually got (that is to say, not far at all but we had something playable at least).

I also found the demo files and footage of the "game" running (running at 12fps but running)! I'm curious if they still work, I'll have to download an older version of blender to test them out!

There's actually a lot more but actually finding it is proving to be quite a challenge since this laptop seems to be the digital equivalent of an ADHD "doom box" - meaning nothing is sorted into folders that make even a remote lick of sense to me, it's all just kind of thrown in together lmao.

I wanted to post these though because even though I don't really do 3D stuff anymore, It still made me really happy to see how much progress I've made over the years and how far I've come. Also a few folks who worked on this project with me back on Deviantart have started finding me lol, so in case there's anyone else out there, hello! I'm not dead, I'm still around, I'm just a lot more (openly) queer now lmao.

Image descriptions:

[ID 1: A game title that reads "The Legend of Cynder, Shadows of the Past". The two lines, "the legend of" and "shadows of the past" are written in dark purple text. The purple material is supposed to look like liquid, but instead just looks hard to read. "Cynder" is writen in black, 3D text with red outlines, with the exception of the C. The "c" is modeled as a black tube instead of in a blocky style like the rest of the letters. The inside of the C has a red underbelly, and the bottom of the C ends in a tail, resembling Cynder's from the Legend of Spyro Series. There are 3 white spikes at the top of the C. /end ID]

[ID 2: a 3d render of 4 dragons around a christmas tree. A black dragon at the front, Cynder, is using her tail to hang tinsel, a pruple dragon, Spyro, on the left is reaching up into the branches of the tree. A blue dragon, Ignitus, is hovering behind the tree, his paws outstretched, implying he is placing the glowing star at the top. On his head is a silver dragon, Zerali, balancing on his horns. behind them is a series of floating islands. /End ID]

[ID 3: A render of Cynder with a darker colour pallet than the previous image and glowing yellow eyes, snarling at the camera, guarding a black gem. The sky in the background is blood red and the terrain is flat and barren. /End ID]

[ID 4: A render of an incomplete model of Terrador, a green dragon with brown horns and rocky shoulder decorations. He has no underbelly or wings. /end ID]

[ID 5: A render of a fan character named ekkosel, a blue, anthropomorphic dragonfly with an unsettling, uncanny face and green wings, T-posing. Her green wings are a blur /End ID]

[ID 6: two sketches of a anthropomorphic cheetah heads. One has long ears like a lynx and is labeled DotD design, the other has small, rounded ears like a cheetah usually has, labled TLoC design. /end ID]

[ID 7: A render of Zerali, the silver dragon from the second image, and ekkosel, from the 5th, playing together. In this image, we can see Zerali has a pinky-purple underbelly and shiny gold horns.]

[ID 8: A rendered scene showing a close up of blue ignitus with his eyes closed. He appears to be talking to Cynder, who is in the background, but blurry. The game's logo is visible in the bottom left of the image. /end ID]

[snek-panini]

I'm trying to get the last of my Binderary projects posted, so today we have books #8 and 9, Fault Lines by Marabelle123. This is a long canon compliant Good Omens fic (pre-second season) that I've had on my to-bind list since I started making books three years ago. It's unfinished and had its most recent update in early 2020, but based on how the existing story feels I'm fairly sure it was close to the end and feels complete enough to be satisfying. It's very in character and captures a lot of the specific feeling from the pre-miniseries fandom, that the relationship between the leads defies all definition. They're as close as it's possible to be and their relationship has teeth sometimes but their bond is as undefinable as it is unbreakable. Give it a read if that sounds like your thing; it's excellent.

The cover for this one is made of two colors of faux leather, cut at a diagonal with no overlap, with the title in silver foil htv. I've never done a cover like this before but I'm in love with the result. It feels very sleek and sexy and modern compared to the more vintage elements I usually favor. And I didn't have enough of either leather to do two full books, but I still wanted to use them and have the volumes match. I think it was an elegant solution.

More pics under the cut! I tried some new stuff with this one.

You may have noticed above that this is a Coptic bind, my favorite for unfinished fics because of the "out" option it leaves. If the author ever returns to it and posts more chapters it would be fairly easy to take out the stitching and add more signatures. I still stand by this motivation, but after a silence of four years and no response from the author when I reached out for permission to bind it I'm reasonably sure this is it for the story. That let me try out some stuff I'd be reluctant to do if I was planning to add pages. Have a look at the spines:

Sadly I couldn't make the page count work with a single volume, since you can't do much to mitigate spine swell in a Coptic bind, but the volume split let me do some long stitches in the center that look like wings. There are plot-relevant feathers in the fic, so it's fitting. I thought of sewing one of them in white for that sweet Good Omens balance feeling, but I didn't think it would pop against the white paper and would leave the set looking unbalanced so I stuck with black on both. To get the pattern right I cut out a wing shape the same width as the spine and traced it and poked holes for the outline, then flipped it for the second volume so they'd be mirrored. You can also see that I did something different at the head and tail, more visible here:

This is a Coptic endband. I found out these existed a couple of months ago and absolutely had to try them. They're woven into the signatures and cover with a separate thread, after the rest of the stitching is done, and they're supposed to add some stability to the wiggly spine that you always get with these books. Unlike other types of endband, they don't have a core. I had a lot of trouble with them and had to pull out the first one and redo it with a different thread (embroidery floss is better than crochet thread for this) but I have no regrets about the finished product. They do stabilize the spine some, though not as much as I'd have liked. I really like how they (and the longstitch section) dress up a Coptic spine. I've always thought the plain ones were a little lackluster for how much work they are, but I love all the texture and interest this one has. Would absolutely not do black on black again though. Very hard to keep track of which thread I was supposed to sew under against a black background. I'll be using a contrasting color next time.

Interior photos. The doublure on the inside of the cover is a striped lokta (I think; it's been a while since I bought it). The title page image is a free-to-use image that I found on I think Vecteezy. Unsurprisingly, given its title, a big theme in this one is underlying cracks and misalignments that the characters don't realize are there until there's a massive disturbance, and that's why I had the text on both the title page and the cover not line up. Things are slipping, things are cracking, and there's extra work to be done on both sides if you're going to stabilize or rebuild. Comparatively, the typeset is quite plain and simple, with only two fonts, no chapter header image, and no section break images unless the break falls on the last line of a page, in which case there's one gray line. I think it's well-suited to the story; there is a bit with an illuminated manuscript, but mostly the characters are busy introspecting in between managing crises. They don't have the time or the energy to dress things up prettily.

And that's it on Fault Lines! As I mentioned earlier, I reached out to the author on Ao3 for permission to bind but never received a response, so I really hope they don't mind that I made these. I love their fic, and I love the bind I made.