#I’m also so proud of Scar! he did it!

[archive-rat]

The Falling Star

(congrats on the win, Scar!)

Scar is, to me, reminiscent of a falling star. Once among his fellow stars in the night sky, he is now all alone, pulled down by a gravity he cannot resist and taken on a destructive course, against his will. And then, right before impact, maybe he’ll no longer be alone. For those fleeting seconds, the falling star will once again have company, right before he crashes into it and leaves only death and old memories in his wake.

[formula-ghost]

Read Your Diary (FC43 x fem!reader)

Chapter 2: Own My Mind

CHAPTER SUMMARY: You might have finally admitted to yourself that you have feelings for Franco, but that doesn’t make the deep longing you feel for him any easier. And he's starting to make you question if he might feel the same longing for you, too.

WORD COUNT: 5.2k

WARNINGS: SEXUAL CONTENT 18+ ONLY MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. Reader is a lil freak, use of YN, mentions of anxiety disorders/therapy, reader has self esteem issues

TAGLIST: @scopeiguess

A/N: Thank you so much for all the love on part one! I never expected my first chapter to get any notes let alone over 200 notes in just a few days. Seriously every single note has me kicking my feet and turning my eyes into little heart emojis lol. I’m already about 2k words into ch 3 so I am hoping I’ll finish it before I have to travel for the holidays (I will not be able to write at all while I’m gone). Also, I had a request for someone to be tagged in this chapter, so let me know if you all would like me to start a permanent tag list. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy it!

Chapter 1 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5

Oh it’s automatic, you know I just gotta have it

I’ll make your body a habit

You know there’s some kind of magic, uh huh

Do you wanna, do you wanna, own my mind, own my mind?

The Singapore Grand Prix was later that night. Franco did really well considering the circumstances. It was disgustingly humid, and when he was done you could tell he felt awful. You were so angry at everyone at Williams for letting him race like that. Yes, it was his job, but that was your friend out there suffering—your friend who you had just admitted to yourself yesterday that you were in love with.

You watched him from afar when he spoke to the media afterwards. His curls were plastered down to his forehead with sweat, and his skin was pale and clammy. You just wanted to hold him and tell him that you were proud of him. Instead you had to settle for keeping an eye on him in the chaos of the paddock post-race, and helping him back to the hotel with his mother.

She had to get on an early flight, so she left and you promised her you’d stay until he was okay. She was worried about him, and you were too. God, seeing him so sick broke your heart. You helped pack up his things while he took a cold shower and he emerged in just a towel wrapped around his waist. He seemed to be feeling much better thankfully, and his more playful mood reflected it.

Of course, you snuck a glance or two at his sculpted form. Just a peek at his wet curls, the water droplets running down his chest—even the scar on his collarbone that he always tries to hide. He thinks it’s ugly. You think there isn’t a single part of him that’s ugly.

You tried to ignore him and continued tidying up. “I hope you don’t expect me to tip you,” he joked.

You playfully rolled your eyes. “What else are you going to do with all your stripper money?”

“Well, if we’re stripping…” he said, slowly lowering his hand down to his hips, palming the towel. You stomped to the bathroom, out of view of whatever joke he was making. “Get dressed, you man whore,” you instructed.

You lived for the banter you all had—at times, it felt like your own language separate from the rest of the world. The audience could hear Franco’s humor, but they’d never understand it like you did.

When you left the bathroom he was thankfully (or, unfortunately) fully clothed, lying on the bed and lazily scrolling through his phone.

“I’m glad you seem to be feeling better,” you said.

“Well, better than I was, but still kind of like shit,” he responded with a sigh.

“Well, you can get some rest, I’ve got you pretty much all packed up so you’ll be ready to go tomorrow.”

He put his phone down and gave you a soft smile. “Thank you.” He paused for a moment, as if he was readying himself to say something, and looked at the floor away from you. “YN, would you… stay? Just in case I get worse, you know.”

You could tell by the color in his face that he was feeling better, but how could you deny him this small comfort, when his eyes met yours through his long eyelashes, a sliver of light from the street lamps outside cutting through the drawn curtains and resting on his face? He was so beautiful. And he wanted you to stay.

“Of course,” you said. You were going to get up from the corner of the bed where you now sat and move to the chair until he fell asleep, but instead he motioned for you to lay down on the bed next to him. Tentatively, you did, heart racing as he laid his head on your shoulder and curled his body into you.

His playful flirting was normal, but this was… different, a closeness beyond what was usual between you two. You could feel the warmth of his skin, his breath steady against you. Yes, your heart was beating, but you felt strangely calm. Peaceful. In this moment all that mattered was you and your best friend, quietly sharing a moment in each other’s presence.

Your hand, trembling, reached down to smooth a piece of his hair. He hummed in response, to which you quickly moved your hand, mumbling, “Oh, sorry.”

He just grabbed your hand and wordlessly placed it back on his head. Slowly, you began to run your fingers through his beautiful curls. You got lost in the moment, and soon enough, you felt his breath even out as he fell into a peaceful sleep. Soon enough, the stillness of the moment and the soft rise and fall of his breathing lulled you to sleep too.

You woke just as the sun was beginning to illuminate the sky outside. You had an unfortunate habit of waking up in the middle of the night—a common symptom of anxiety, your therapist had told you—but for the first time in a long time, you slept through the night soundly.

You and Franco had shifted, and he know had his arm lazily wrapped around you. You remembered the previous night and felt your heartbeat increase. It wasn’t just the feeling of his arm draped across your waist, but the feeling of…. something else. A little… morning problem.

Of course, you knew Franco couldn’t help it. He wasn’t even awake, and from your years of friendship you knew how much of a heavy sleeper he was. It was just an uncontrollable biological phenomenon. Nothing more.

But you couldn’t stay, feeling him pressed against you like that. It felt wrong and you were so nervous you could hardly breathe. So you carefully wiggled your way out of his grasp and quietly left his room, returning to your own.

Returning to your hotel room, all you knew to do to calm yourself down was to write. So you opened your journal and wrote all about the scene; the dinner, the banter, waking up next to him in the morning sunlight.

You wrote until your hand started to cramp. Then you went back to read what you had written, skimming over it, your mind only picking up on little snippets.

Lily thought I was Franco’s girlfriend, and I guess I can’t blame her. He’s such a flirt, I love and hate it. I just wonder if it ever means anything to him. I mean, he treats random reporters the same way he treats his girlfriends. What does he do when he actually wants someone?

He asked me to stay. I thought he must still be sick, but he just wanted me to… cuddle? I ran my fingers through his hair until he fell asleep. He looked like an angel, so soft and innocent, resting next to me. I wanted to kiss him so badly.

But when I woke up, I could feel his morning wood pressing against me. God, it was so awkward. But I can’t stop thinking about it, what he would do if he really wanted me.

Oh no. Oh no no no. You shouldn’t write that kind of stuff. Having a crush was one thing, but thinking about him like that? It was…wrong. Franco was your best friend. Your best friend who was absolutely perfect—yes, physically as well.

You threw your journal on the bed with a grunt of frustration.

You were fucked.

Your heart beat nervously as you walked into the waiting room before your next therapy session. It had been a week or so since Singapore when you had finally admitted the truth to yourself.

Yes, you had feelings for Franco. Emotional and… physical. No, you had no idea what to do with them.

Waiting for the clock to strike the hour, you reached down into your bag to run your fingertips along the spine of your leather journal. You had been writing incessantly in it since that night.

And if you thought that your fantasies were bad then, oh, it had gotten so much worse.

You told yourself you couldn’t help it. You were ovulating. You’d been single for a while. You were a girl with needs. But you felt disgusted, basically writing porn about your best friend.

I keep imagining that night at the hotel in Singapore, when he came out of the bathroom with just his towel on. In my mind, he sits on the edge of the bed like always, hand carefully placed at the top of his towel. His hair is dripping and his skin is still dotted with water droplets.

He doesn’t even have to say anything. The way he looks at me—eyes looking up through his gorgeous lashes, his pouty lips looking so lonely—I know exactly what he wants. So I get on the bed and straddle him, the only thing between us being my skirt, panties, and the thin fabric of the towel. I can feel him, how badly he wants me.

Then I’m in control, kissing his neck, leaving love bites up and down so that everyone knows he’s mine. He moans softly into my ear, bucking up his hips into me for just a bit of friction. “No,” I tell him, “I didn’t give you permission for that.” He whines in protest, but I just smile at his frustration. “My sweet boy…”

Even remembering what you wrote felt filthy. You wanted him—all of him.

I had a dream last night that Franco dominated me. We are in his apartment, arguing about something stupid, and he pushed me against the wall, kissing me roughly, like he couldn’t get enough of me. He holds me waist with his strong hands as his kisses get deeper.

“I need to taste you,” he growls into my mouth, picking me up and throwing me on the bed. Before I can react he’s on top of me, one hand holding my chin and the other fumbling with the zipper of my jeans. “Are you going to be good for me?” he asks, and I frantically nod.

“That’s what I thought,” he said, smirking, as he pulls off my jeans and my panties with it—

“YN? You can come in now.” You’re pulled from your daydreaming by the voice of your therapist. You close the journal, embarrassed, but not without her seeing it in your hands.

“I hope you’re doing well. I see you’ve got a journal, you’ve been writing in it, I take it?” she asked as you sat down in the familiar office.

“Yeah, I have,” you answered, clutching it tightly in your folded hands.

“Well, that’s great! Has it been helping you?”

“Um… I guess?”

“Explain more.”

You paused, unable to think. All you could do was blurt out the truth.

“I’m in love with my best friend.”

“…Okay.” Your therapist also paused. “Did your writing bring about this revelation?”

You tumbled through the rest of the session, trying to explain what happened without revealing too many intimate details.

“I just feel… horrible I guess. It’s so dumb. It’s not like he’ll ever feel the same way about me.”

“What makes you think that?”

“Well, he’s so… perfect. And I’m an anxious mess,” you laughed.

“Is anxiety that much of a barrier to being loved?”

You laughed, considering the gravity of her question. You couldn’t truly answer it. “It shouldn’t be. But I just know he’d never choose me and that’s okay. He doesn’t even know how I feel, and even if I had the courage to tell him, I wouldn’t want to ruin our friendship.”

“Does it bother you, not being able to tell him about all of this?”

“….yeah, it does, actually,” you admitted. "I'll never do it but... I just wish I could, you know?"

"I understand. Why not start with expressing your feelings platonically? Telling him what he means to you as a friend?"

"I guess I could do that." You didn't quite know how you'd accomplish that, but you weren't in therapy just to refuse to try anything. You wanted to do hard things. You needed to do them.

So you made it your mission, next time you saw Franco, to tell him something meaningful. You weren't sure what it would be or how it would come out, but you'd at least try.

Unfortunately, it was a while before you'd see Franco again. There were a few weeks between Singapore and Austin, and between race prep with Williams and sponsorship deals, Franco was up to his ears in work. You still talked, of course—you texted back and forth every day—but it just wasn't the same, and you missed him horribly.

You'd felt this before, the ache in your stomach that longed for his presence when you'd gone too long without seeing him. You figured it would be different now that you had finally admitted to yourself what this feeling was. You didn't expect it to be worse.

Because now that feeling in your stomach was sharper. You didn't just yearn for the mere concept of him—you wanted everything. You missed his smile. You missed hearing his voice rise and fall in intonation as you bantered back and forth. You missed his perfect curls smoothed across his forehead. You missed the feeling of his arm wrapped around you, whether in a friendly embrace or something more intimate, like you'd had in Singapore. And in the back of your mind, you missed the feeling of Franco's hardness pressing against your back, a sign of what you fantasized was a deep wanting for you, both physical and emotional.

You tried, and failed, to rein in these fantasies. But with the more days that passed, the more Franco began to feel less and less like your best friend, and more and more like the version of him you'd created in your head, desperate for you more than anything else in the world.

You wrote all of this down, of course. If you hadn't you would have lost your mind with lust. Romantic pining was nothing new to you—you'd had a boyfriend before, although what you felt for him paled in comparison to Franco—but this intense physical desire you felt was new.

You had never been satisfied by anyone, anything, before. You smiled to yourself as you thought, well, I guess it's true what they say about the quiet, shy ones.

And Franco, unbeknownst to him, wasn't making it any easier. He called you one day, the first phone call you'd had in a while, a few days before you'd be flying out to Austin for the grand prix.

"I'm sorry I've been so busy," he explained, "but the stuff we're doing is so cool."

"Am I allowed to know, or is it top secret?" You smiled through the phone.

"Well... I can't tell you everything just yet, but I can give you a sneak peek. Check your messages."

You felt your phone vibrate, receiving a notification from Franco. You tapped on the text and nearly dropped your phone. He had sent you unedited pictures from a photoshoot, and he looked fucking amazing.

His voice on the other end of the line explained, "I'm gonna be on the cover of Forbes Mexico for the race. What do you think?"

At first, you were quite literally speechless. "Franco, you look..."

"Gorgeous? Sexy? Like the most fuckable Formula 1 driver?" he teased. For a split second, you wondered if it was possible to hear a blush through the phone.

His banter inspired your own. "... not bad. I mean, you certainly give them a lot of work to do to make you look good, but they did pretty decent."

If human beings could hear a blush through a phone, you were sure the noise that Franco made would be indicative of one. "Oh, shut up and tell me I'm pretty."

A million potential responses went through your head. Make me. Beg for it. My pretty boy.

Instead you just laughed and said, "No, really, you look great. This is amazing. You know the entire internet is going to lose their minds after this drops?"

He smiled. "That's the plan."

It still hadn't been released by the time you made it to Austin, but you weren't complaining. A part of you liked having this piece of Franco all to yourself. You kept going back to the photos again and again—his glare at the camera, his arm draped over a steering wheel—you couldn't get enough.

And when he met you at the airport in Austin (even though you told him it wasn't necessary), all that want came rushing back the instant he wrapped you in a hug that lasted a little too long to be considered platonic.

You couldn’t let your thoughts go that far. You’d already crossed a line by allowing yourself to feel such… intimate emotions for him. But to even imagine that he really wanted you to? No. That was where you actually drew the line.

But unfortunately, Franco’s confusing behavior made it far too easy for you to believe that he didn’t feel the same.

You all didn’t talk about that night in Singapore, or the fact that he must have woken up alone. You’d rather throw yourself into a pit of knives than talk about it and have to bear the embarrassment, and Franco didn’t seem bothered at all, so you let it go to the back of your head, acting as if it never happened at all. Your first day in Austin was fine, mainly spent recovering from jet lag and exploring the city on your own while Franco did his media duties. You had dinner with him that night and it was like no time had passed. The banter was the same, the atmosphere was great, and you were so happy to be back in his presence again.

As he walked you to your hotel room, you remembered your promise you had made to yourself, that you’d try to practice being vulnerable. For some reason, you didn’t have it in you today. You were tired, in a good way, but all you wanted was to curl up next to Franco and wake up in his arms the next morning.

And of course, you assumed Franco would want to stay. Why else would he walk you back to your room? Maybe it was the nervousness of the implication—you and Franco, alone in your hotel room—that prevented you from saying anything, or maybe you just knew that now wasn’t the right time.

Either way, there was no moment. Franco just bid you goodnight with a wave and left to his own room.

You didn’t know what you were expecting. He just didn’t like you like that, and it was okay. You didn’t want to ruin the friendship.

But you also couldn't help but feel a bit...disappointed. You cursed yourself for letting your fantasies become too real. It would be weirder if he had tried something.

Still, you dealt with these complicated emotions the only way you knew how: writing. You opened the journal and began to write away, not even stopping to think, just vomiting words on the page.

We're in Austin right now. It's been...normal. Good. Which is weird, considering that last time we were at a grand prix we spent the night together. It's not like that, but I can't help but think that something is just...different. I keep thinking about what my therapist asked, about anxiety being a barrier to love. Franco has always supported me, or tried to at least. I haven't exactly made it easy for him, or anyone else, since I bottle things up so much.

But he doesn't love me, not like that, anyways. He dates models—I mean, God, he is a model now—and I'm just me. I'm not exceptionally pretty or smart or funny. I'm nobody.

I can't help but fantasize about how things could be different. I imagine us going on a fancy date. He's wearing that suit he did the Mexico photoshoot in, with the top shirt buttons undone to tease me. He picks me up from my apartment at 8 with a bouquet of pink roses (not red, red is too cliche; but I guess I can't complain, no man has ever bought me flowers). I'm wearing that dress I got the last time we visited Argentina together—the one that hugs all my curves just right, and it's his favorite color. The dinner is sweet. We savor the time together, since it's more scarce now that he's a permanent driver in F1. We've had a few glasses of wine, just enough to get us slightly giggly and blushed, our inhibitions long abandoned. In the back of the Uber he traces his hand up and down my thigh, each time teasing scandalously closer and closer to the place I need him the most. 

The ride is torturously long, but when we arrive back at his apartment, he wastes no time in getting me alone so he can have his way with me. He picks me up bridal style and kisses me through my drunken laughter, a smile on his face, too. He lovingly tosses me on the bed before taking off his jacket. I just look at him in awe. He’s so fucking perfect. And he’s all mine. He gets on top of me, kissing me gently, and no words need to be exchanged between us. I can feel the tenderness of his lips against mine, and he pauses, looking me directly in the eyes. The moment is quiet and I feel so safe and loved with him, until our lips crash together and his hand finds its place on my thigh again. It trails up and

There was a knock at your door. 

You jumped, startled. Getting up and looking through the peephole in the door, you saw it was just, of course, Franco, so you hurried to open the door.

“Hey, what’s up?”

“You left your lipstick in my pocket,” he smirked, holding out the tube to you.

“Oh!” you exclaimed, having forgotten about asking him to hold it earlier at dinner since your outfit didn’t have pockets. 

“You didn’t even notice that I stole it.” It was true. You had completely forgotten about it with all your journaling. 

“Well, the shade would look good on you,” you teased. 

He playfully rolled his eyes. “It’s no fun pranking you when you don’t even notice. Keep up, hm?” Franco loved to play little tricks on you like this, and usually you played right into them, knowing that the fun of his taunting outweighed whatever consequence the prank itself would bring. 

“You’re impossible,” you said, smiling regardless. “Now, if you’re done stealing my stuff, I’m exhausted.” You went to close the door, assuming this to be the natural end of the exchange, until Franco took a step into your room and rested his weight on the doorframe.

“Not exhausted enough to skip your… journaling?” he said, looking over your shoulder.

Shit. Shit shit shit. You hadn’t closed your journal. 

“Since when do you journal?” he asked, leaning forward as if he was trying to make out the words from across the room.

If you had been smarter, smoother with it, you probably could have lied and said it was for work, then proceeded to rant about your remote corporate job which would have bored Franco to tears. But smart and smooth with it are two things that you are not.

You swiftly turned around to grab the journal and slam it closed, holding it in a death grip. Your absence from the door, however, had been interpreted by Franco as an invitation to come in. And it was clear by the urgency of your actions that whatever was in that journal was something you did NOT want him knowing.

You answered him, “I haven't been doing it very long.” There was a brief moment where you considered ending the conversation there. It was too late to formulate a good lie, anyway. But on the other hand, you wanted to do hard things and be honest with yourself and others. So you did. At least your therapist would be proud.

So you continued, “It was a suggestion from my therapist. Just helps you get your thoughts out so they aren’t all stuck in your head.” Simple enough. It was the truth, after all. He didn’t need to know what those thoughts were.

“Can I read it?”

You paused in bewilderment. “Um, no? Franco, what the fuck?”

“What?”

“You don’t just… ask to read someone’s personal journal.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s personal, you muppet!”

“Really? Stole that one from Lando?”

“It fits." You snorted. "But seriously, why would you ask to read my journal?” 

“Because I never know what you’re thinking. You’re impossible to figure out.”

“... I am?”

“Yes, you are.”

“Well why don’t you just, I don’t know, ask me what I’m thinking?”

“... I know you did not just say that.”  He made a face at you. Yeah, he was right. If you were skilled enough at communicating your emotions you wouldn’t have needed to start the journal in the first place. He continued, “You were literally dying in Singapore and when I asked you what was wrong you said you were fine.”

“Hey, I made it to quali alive,” you replied. 

“Look, I just… It would be nice to understand where you’re coming from a bit more, like… actually nevermind, forget I ever said anything.” Your confusion only lingered as Franco clearly struggled to find the words. You guess that this was how he felt communicating with you sometimes—it sucked.

“Whatever, you weirdo,” you said, your joking tone an indicator to him that you were willing to act as if this horribly embarrassing exchange had never happened. 

“Goodnight, YN,” he said as he left the room, ending the conversation like that. Now it was your turn to be confused by his actions. There was something he clearly wanted to say but couldn’t, and you let yourself wonder, just for a second, if what was happening to you wasn’t so different from whatever was going on in his head.

You let your fantasies lull you into sleep.

Again, you let… whatever was happening between you and Franco go unsaid and focused on supporting him for the grand prix. 

From the Williams garage, you cheered him on as he got another point, overtaking Alonso so skillfully. When he came back to the garage, you met him as you always did, with a smile that stretched across your entire face. Your hug this time was different, as he picked you up and twirled you around. You laughed into his shoulder, holding on to him as he spun you.

He put you down and was immediately assailed by hugs all around from the Williams team. Lily, who had been in the garage by your side the whole race, elbowed you in the side. 

“So, you and Franco are just friends, huh?” she teased. You all had become friendly enough that a little bit of banter was acceptable. 

You inhaled with a soft smile, watching him celebrate in the distance. Once again, you chose vulnerable honesty. 

“Yes, we’re just friends. But it’s…complicated.”

Her eyes widened and she turned to you, shielding you off from the celebratory scene. In a lowered voice, she muttered, “You have feelings for him?”

“Is it that obvious?”

“Unfortunately, yeah. But c’mon, he just spun you around like a Disney princess. He obviously has feelings too. And have you seen what the fans are saying about you all?”

“No?” You were surprised the fans even knew you existed. You had cut down on social media a long time ago, knowing how much it contributed to your anxiety and self-esteem issues. You still had accounts, but all were private and hardly used, and you didn’t interact much with fans at the races, preferring to stay in the garage or in Williams hospitality to enjoy the races without worrying about what people were thinking of you.

“They love you two. Seriously, I think there’s gotta be a million teenage girls living vicariously through you.”

You laughed at her comment, not in a mocking way, but because of the absurdity of it all. None of these people really knew you, or Franco, for that matter. It just proved your point that social media wasn’t real.

So if people on social media were shipping you and Franco, then it couldn’t be true. At least, that’s the confusing logic you held yourself to. A line had to be drawn somewhere.

Your conversion with Lily was cut short by Franco approaching. “Celebratory dinner later?” he asked, still beaming. You agreed.

If you could have bottled the energy that Franco exuded all day after the race, you would have had yourself a very lucrative energy drink company. As he was packing up his things to leave the circuit, you all passed by barriers where fans were practically crawling their way to get to him, screaming his name and waving Argentine flags in the air. He tilted his head to them as you passed, and asked, “Can I?”

You were in no rush, and of course you could never deny him this moment to enjoy what he had built with all his hard work. He stopped to sign shirts and caps while you stood behind. Everyone had their phones out, filming Franco, but you knew you’d inevitably end up in the background. You just hoped you didn’t look too awkward. 

Franco turned his head back to you as the crowd behind the barrier just grew more and more excited. “You see this, YN? This is insane!” his smile stretched from ear to ear, and you just smiled in response. He climbed up the fence, eliciting a small giggle from you, and filmed the crowd below him chanting his name.

You had never been more proud of him. And you had to say it. 

So you did, after dinner when you all somehow ended up in his hotel room together again. The atmosphere was…calm. Familiar. Warm.

The conversation had reached a natural pause, and the night had gotten to that point where that space between you and him felt simultaneously infinite and nonexistent. 

He sat crossed legged on the bed, fiddling with something in his suitcase next to him. You sat on the chair only a few feet away.

“I’m so proud of you, Franco. I don’t tell you enough.”

He looked up and your eyes met. And he blushed. You had made Franco Colapinto blush.

“When did you get all sappy on me?” he asked. There was still a bit of a wall up. It was unusual for you all to be this vulnerable with each other.

“Since my best friend in the entire world is achieving all his dreams! I mean, we’re celebrating points now, but one day we’ll be celebrating podiums. And then race wins. And then championships. I believe it.”

The room was draped in a thick silence. Franco knew you didn’t throw these words around carelessly. And the unspoken implication, that you’d be there for all of it.

“I believe it too,” he said quietly. There was no ego in his statement. Only true hope.

[livelaughlovesubs]

Happy anniversary! Could you do the prompt punishing/torturing toji after he lied to shiu about being a Dom or something? And then shiu tells reader and she decides to show shiu what really happens in bed 👹👹

Apologies if it’s hard to understand but I hope u see the vision

Once again happy anniversary!

I wasn’t sure if you wanted reader to fuck Toji in front of shiu or just to punish him… I went with the latter sooo

Dom!reader x sub!toji - reader is gn

Warning: orgasm deny, edging, foot job, stepping, teasing, pet play (?), degradation, bondage

Anniversary event

“Y/nnnn~” shiu slurred over your name, snickering as he tapped his cigarette over the ashtray. “You know, I was surprised when I found out your preferences.” He held an almost empty glass with his other hand, and you cheered your own drink against his. “Oh really? Still surprised I’m dating this guy over here?” You stubbed your elbow against Toji, who sat next to you, then you chuckled, “that joke’s getting old.”

He empties the last bits of his beverage and said, “no no, not thaaat. I mean you didn’t give off the feels of…” he stopped for a moment to take a drag, thinking over his words. It was obvious that he was tipsy, if not, drunk. You didn’t really pay attention to a drunk’s blabbering, not until he continued with, “…you know, of a sub, haha!” Suddenly you froze, what did he just say? Before you got the chance to ask, Toji slammed his fist against the table and growled, “cut the crap, don’t talk nonsense when you are wasted.”

“Oh , I didn’t mean it in a condescending way, I was just surprised when you told me.” While he said that, he locked eyes with your dearest boyfriend, so when he said ‘you’… “don’t listen to him, y/n. He’s drunk.” Your partner commented, his voice had a hint of hesitation, he also glared at Shiu, who didn’t even notice the hostile glances. “I want to hear more though. What else did this guy say?” You ignored him and turned your focus to the male sitting across the table.

“I don’t remember all that well, just, that he was the one in charge?” After finishing his sentence he took another drag of his cigarette. Toji hastily stood up and told you, “no way, he’s making things up. Why would I do that anyway?” His smile looked a little crooked, you knew him well enough to tell if he was lying. “Huh? I thought you were bragging about it.” Shiu asked, almost naively. If he wasn’t drunk before he definitely was now. “Fucking hell, can’t you just shut up.” The little scar on his lips twitched when he spoke, and he was certainly agitated.

You smiled through it all, speaking as calm as you managed, “so that’s what happened? Haha.” Toji turned to look at you, mumbling in a quieter tone, “you don’t believe him, right y/n?” Your lips curled up in an unnatural way when you said, “why, of course I don’t. Anyway, it’s time to head home now.” Just as how you could read his lies, he could also see through your facade, and he cursed Shiu under his breath as he responded, “alright.”

He fucked up. No, really, he fucked up big this time, and both of you knew. He didn’t know Shiu would be so vocal when drunk, and he also didn’t expect him to remember what he said. It’s not his fault now is it? If anything, it’s partly shiu’s as well, since he asked how your relationship was progressing and teased him about subbing for you. He got provocative, he was basically forced to lie about it!

That’s why it’s so unfair that he’s the only one getting punished, why’s he always getting the shorter end of the stick? Stripped naked with his arms tied behind his back, a raging boner standing proud between his legs as he kneeled before you. Whenever he gazed up to meet your eyes, you stared down at him coldly, making him squirm in painful delight.

“Even under such circumstances you can still think of other things?” You tapped his cheek with your foot, arms crossed over your chest. “No I-” “shut it, Toji, dogs don’t talk.” His brows furrowed and he pressed his lips into a thin line. “I can think of many reasons why you did that, but it doesn’t make me any less angry.” Now you placed your foot on his thighs, and stared down. “You know this is a punishment, try your best.”

Before he got time to prepare himself, you stepped down on his dick, pressing it against his pelvis. The sticky liquid stuck to his lower abdomen like glue. “Ah- uuh, urghHh..! Wai-” he quickly stopped himself and bit his bottom lip, he couldn’t afford to make mistakes now. “Was I too lenient with you?” Despite your choice of words, you weren’t talking to him and neither did you want him to answer. “So much that the dog forgot who’s the master and went around barking at people?”

Ah damn it, if you were going to degrade him with that fierce look in your eyes, all while teasing him like this, he wont be able to last. His sex twitched underneath you, and he struggled against the ropes. You could see the tips of his teeth biting his lips until it bled, or how his muscles were tensing up in response to your actions. His skin was glistening from his sweat, and his cheeks were blushing like crazy. “Filthy beast. I didn’t think you’d enjoy your punishment this much.” Then you pressed down harder, causing him to melt, to drown in ecstasy.

“UrggHhh..! Ah f-fuck…” he moaned and cursed, squeezing his eyes shut as he felt himself getting close, god he was withering. It was truly humiliating how much he loved this, the pain, the pleasure and the intensity of the moment. Really, he was so close, but how was he going to warn you when he wasn’t allowed to speak? “Nghh…! Hmm-mhm..? AhhHHhh～♡♥︎♡!!” Without warning, you rubbed his tip with your toes, enough until it was completely covered in his precum.

Once you were content, you pulled back and wiped your foot against his chest, right before he got to cum. “Argh- ah, ahh.. y-y/n..!” This time he couldn’t stop himself from calling your name. Head thrown upwards, eyes glassy as his saliva dropped down the corner of his mouth all the way to his chin. He was so confused, why did you stop? But the second he saw the look on your face, he knew the answer to his question.

“That reminds me, since I’m apparently the sub, I shouldn’t be doing these kind of stuff with you.” You snarled with a wide, sharp grin. “No- wait, I, I’m sorry okay? Just- let me cum.” He hastily yelled, squirming around and shaking with the desire for release. “No can’t do, I’m afraid I don’t know how?” The sound of your giggles rang in his mind. Afterwards, he wanted to protest again, but you just climbed into the bed and yawned, “anyway, I’ll go to bed first. Don’t wake me, alright my dear puppy?”

Even though it was formulated into a question, he knew very well it was a command. And he also knew, he had no way out of this. “Urgh- shit..” he groaned, trying to move away from his spot but failing to do so. This was the punishment you’ve planned from the very beginning huh? With a trembling and somewhat desperate voice, he whimpered, “I understand… sleep well, master.”

[cultofdixon]

“I love you” told in a silent way

Daryl Dixon • She/Her Pronouns • Eldest Greene!Daughter • The archer and eldest Greene daughter grew close when they met and even turned into a few things. Little did they know that they were expecting • ANGST/SFW/NSFW - Implied Sex / Quickies / Hickeys / Biting • TW: Canon Violence / Injuries / Self Harm Scars / Nausea / Talks of Abortion / Amputation / Pregnancy & Birth

Requested by: Anon

Daryl tried to be sneaky when it came to getting one of Hershel’s horses. He thought it be easier to maneuver through the woods on horseback instead of his bike. Wouldn’t be as loud either.

The man didn’t know anything about horses. Especially with putting the saddle and reins on. But he was trying to be quick so that none of the Greenes would notice.

Little did he know he was being watched.

“You forgot the saddle pad. Protects their back from the saddle…the friction and all”

The youngest Dixon quickly dropped the saddle and didn’t think of aiming his crossbow given the woman he turned toward didn’t seem to be armed.

“Who the hell are you?”

“The owner of the horse you be takin’. Don’t care if you do just thought you might need a hand before you take off”

“I’ve got more questions first—-“

“You want a name or somethin’? Or like why didn’t I show my face when your group stumbled into the ranch with a half dead boy?” She tilted her head after saying all that, watching the man’s body relaxed when she said all that. “I’m Y/N Greene. The eldest Greene daughter and I didn’t show my face because I’m not all too friendly with strangers and my old man isn’t all too proud of me”

Now Daryl was completely relaxed for some strange feeling growing in his chest. This total stranger didn’t leave out anything in the initial meeting…he didn’t feel like he had to pull it out of her.

“Can I at least get your name?”

“Daryl. Uh Daryl Dixon”

“Well nice to meet yea. Let me help you get the saddle on and you can take’em wherever you need to go”

“Ain’t gonna like…question why I’d be takin’ your horse?”

“The best thing about being invisible…is I already know why you’re doing it so I’m gonna help in my smallest way” Y/N got the saddle pad from the open cabinet in the stable approaching her horse to get him set up. “You’re trying to find that Carol woman’s daughter? I’d be careful when riding. Nelly is skittish sometimes”

“That’s understandable when a sicko comes by”

“I’m saying…be more careful with anything as small as a mouse when ridin’” Y/N warns as she tightens the saddle on carefully before taking the reins and handing them to Daryl. “If you don’t come back before nightfall, I’ll come and get yea”

“Not gonna need it” Daryl frowns gripping the reins keeping his gaze to the floor until she started to walk away when he brought his eyes back on her.

When Daryl left the farm, Y/N made her existence known to the others from his group given only Lori and Daryl knew of her. Lori only knowing because she accidentally stumbled across her when she needed air after learning what happened to Carl.

The eldest Greene still kept to herself but started to be help to these new people whenever it was asked. She even understood what Maggie was talking to her about when it came to how strange some of them were with one another. But also being mainly an observer, she told her sister more details.

“Have you seen that Dixon guy recently?” Y/N asks her sister Beth watching her shake her head, leading her to leave the house heading toward the stables.

To her surprise, Hershel stood in a bit of a mood when noticing their horse was gone.

“You know who took her?”

“Yeah and I gave the okay. Now I gotta—“ Y/N went toward one of the stalls when Hershel grabbed her upper arm. “Seriously old man. What now?”

“I don’t trust these people” Hershel sung the same tune ever since this group joined. Y/N quickly pulls her arm out of his grasp avoiding eye contact as she pinches the bridge of her nose to contain herself from exploding. “First we lose another of our people because they were left alone with this guy”

“To save the sheriff’s son—-“

“Then the Glenn fella is hitting on my precious Maggie—-“

“She’s a grown ass woman who can make decisions for herself—-“

“Then your stupid decision to let one of them use one of our horses led them to ask for—-“

“SHUT IT” Y/N hissed. “I ain’t bein’ blamed for stupid shit, dad. You’re a sweet old guy that wouldn’t turn away good people but of course it’s driving yea nuts how high maintenance it is. Now get out of my way”

Her father didn’t leave the stables and watched her go into one of the stalls to push over some hay to reveal her hunting rifle strapping it on her.

“What are you doing?!”

“Going out to save one of them from whatever bullshit he got himself in”

“Seriously?! How can you easily let someone in? How can yea risk your life—-“

“I have given too much to this world that I’m not about to let it take from me. Yeah…I may not know much of this guy but some cosmic whatever is telling me he’s worth it” and with that Y/N left for the woods.

Y/N didn’t walk aimlessly like the Dixon fella might have because she grew up in these woods. She’s seen his crossbow and knows he’s a hunter but unless you know your surroundings, you’re learning as you go. Which meant the fall that Daryl took when Nelly bucked him off, Y/N knew the spot he’d fall into. Daryl had just pulled the arrow out of his side to take out the walker trying to get him but when the sounds of another undead came, he knew he was done for.

Until the sound of gunfire rung through followed by a thud. Daryl in his exhausted state looked up from where he fell finding a blurry blob that was Y/N with her rifle still in a readied position. He scoffs slightly out of annoyance toward himself mainly but a bit toward her that he directed to her when she slid the side of the slope reaching him.

“You’re an idiot…”

“Says the one bleeding” Y/N frowns setting her rifle down beside her, helping Daryl sit up with some resistance. “Gotta close that better or you’ll bleed out before we get back”

“Why do you care? If Merle were here he’d make jokes about a girl touchin’ me”

Y/N sort of ignored his words. Merle? Must be family or at least someone close he’s thinking of because of the blood loss. Least she didn’t have to worry about hallucinations…at least when she’s there.

“I just do. Is that a good enough answer for yea?”

“For now”

“Good” Y/N shrugged off her flannel leaving her in a tank top making the heat rise to Daryl’s face as he turned away when she brought her shirt around his torso to apply pressure to the wound. “When we get back, the old man will patch you up”

“How’d yea even know I’d end up here?”

“I know these woods a bit too well, Dixon”

“So…yea could’ve warned me?”

“Nah. Then that would be doubting your abilities now wouldn’t it?” Y/N frowns bringing his arm around her shoulders hearing him groan when getting back on his feet.

Getting back to where they were was a struggle and resulted in Y/N carrying Daryl on her back to the best of her ability. A few bumps along the way but they made it. Now it was a slow walk back to the farm.

Though neither of them could’ve calculated what’s about to happen, to happen.

Once the two were in the clearing, Y/N heard muffled shouting while Daryl clung onto her really feeling the blood loss get to him. His feeling instantly changed when he felt her tense beside him when the group of men came running over. Daryl scoffs straightening up the best he could, glaring at Rick who held his colt in his face once again.

“That’s the third time you pointed that thing at my head” Daryl scoffs. “Gonna pull the trigger or what?”

Then the ring of a shot powered through and nicked Daryl in the head. The force caused him to fall over and Y/N to instantly approach his side to get him on his back making sure he was still breathing.

“I was kidding” Daryl groans, squinting his eyes from the pain in his head as Rick and Shayne quickly came over to help the guy onto his feet while Y/N got up continuing to carry his gear and grow an unsettling taste in her mouth when Andrea came running over admitting to her firing.

Dale noticed the look in the Greene’s eyes and felt the need to step in front of Andrea when she made her way over to them.

“Next time, if you’re ever unsure about the shot you’re about to take? Don’t take it” Y/N kept her cool and even shot the girl a temporary smile that faded into the resting neutral while she caught up with the others.

The poor guy laid uncomfortably in the bed while Hershel got to work on his stitches. Once the info about Sophia’s possible whereabouts, Hershel couldn’t help but speak his mind.

“If you didn’t go out in the first place, my daughter wouldn’t have felt obligated to save your ass”

“No one told her to come and save me. I would’ve come back somehow”

“Given your injuries, Dixon. Be a little more thankful that Y/N girl went and saved yea” Rick scoffs picking up the map from the bed and leaving to give the man some time to rest without people bothering. Hershel followed behind Rick watching him bother Y/N to get her input on their whereabouts regarding Sophia.

Night came and everyone was having dinner in the dining room while Daryl stuck in the room he was in. Carol came and went, gave him food and thanked him for not stopping his search for Sophia. He didn’t wait to leave until the house fell quiet indicating everyone was asleep. But right as Daryl was about to sit up, Y/N quietly pushed the door open resulting in the archer scrambling to cover his back.

She’s seen them but before his sake, she wasn’t going to say anything. Y/N tossed a bottle of Tylenol in Daryl’s lap making him relax and the sheets fall from covering him. “The old man is gonna want to check your bandages later. Change them and check for infection. Yknow, the good stuff”

“At this hour?”

“Man was a vet. Overnight shifts to check on the more critical asked for late night checks. Yeah you’re a person but it’s just how he does things”

“Can’t…You like check them for me? I hate being in here”

The pondering look on Y/N’s face took a minute before falling into a neutral expression with a hint of a smile followed by a shrug.

“Your tent is the furthest from the group yeah? By the bike?”

“Wild guess”

“But I’m right, right?” Y/N smiles warmly. “I’ll have to get some stuff then meet yea there. But go out the back, that door doesn’t squeak when opening it” she tells him back on her way out of the room.

It took him a bit to get out of the house given he was stitched up and sore from the incident still. But he didn’t think he took that long when finding Y/N leaning against the tree closest to his tent smoking.

“How long—-“

“I just got here. I am faster than you given the circumstances”

“I wasn’t the one that fell on their ass after carrying me up that slope” Daryl scoffs approaching his tent to unzip it but bending slightly caused a whole lot of pain that he stopped. Y/N tapped his shoulder indicating for him to move as he did with a groan followed.

The Greene tossed her cigarette to the ground and stomped it out before opening the tent letting him in first obviously then entering herself.

“You’re gonna have to take your shirt off again, or at least unbutton enough just for me to get to your bandages”

Daryl sat on his cot with a huff and a bit of an annoyed look infused with self-hatred. “You saw’em”

“I only saw what you’re willing to show” Y/N brought herself to her knees setting her first aid box next to him on the cot watching him from the corner of her eye take off his shirt dropping it on the floor next to her. “You’re not the only one riddled with a past, or…scars that explain it. Alright, may I?” She reached to touch the bandage waiting for his approval which was a nod from his end.

Her touch is so…light Daryl thought watching her work with taking the bandage off with wetting the adhesive so it wouldn’t tug at his skin. Gentle… he held the new bandage for her watching her double check her dad’s handy work. The slightest concern graced her features but immediately dissolved.

“My stitches would’ve been neater. But it’ll do the job” Y/N comments as she took the bandage from his hand and started applying it.

“You also some form of doctor in this family?”

“Fuck no” Y/N laughs lightly. “I’ve lived in the city for so long that I’ve encountered my fill of chaos probably within the first year. But ten years later is when I decided to sell my soul back to this fucking farm”

“You hate it here?” Daryl questions instantly, watching Y/N clean up her stuff before leaning back on her hands on the ground. “This shit is a luxury. Even before the apocalypse”

“Mm. I don’t know you well enough to go into grand detail about why this place is really just a burden. But you’ve seen how the old man is. Imagine being his kid on the receiving end to his bs”

“I guess that’s fair” Daryl slipped his shirt on when listening to her speak. “Some parents aren’t fit to be parents”

“As much as that is true, maybe even speaking from your own experience. Most situations involving multiple children, there’s always a favorite. But in this case, there’s the disappointment and the two perfect daughters”

“Why are you sharing this with me?”

Y/N shrugs reaching into her back pocket taking out her pack. “You’re relaxed aren’t you?”

She got that right. She got him to stop thinking about his injury, and a little bit about how his search was pretty much a failure.

Once Y/N put her lighter away after lighting her cigarette, she only took two puffs before Daryl carefully leaned over taking it from her mouth to give it to himself.

“I’m taking that as my leave” She laughs lightly as she brought herself to uncomfortably stand in the tent, hunching over just a bit.

But as Y/N reached to take her kit, Daryl took a hold of her wrist tugging her into his lap catching a bit of a confused look from her. Making his anxiety rise slightly that he read her kindness wrong and part of her didn’t expect much.

“Do what you plan on doing, Dixon” Y/N brought her arm around his shoulders as her other hand gently made sure his bandage was secure but also place itself on his cheek.

It took him a second longer to think about his action before pressing his lips against hers. The softness of her lips against his made his heart start racing and her hand moved from his cheek to his chest to confirm such.

When the morning came, Daryl woke with a groan sitting up in his coat to find beside him being empty but Y/N still remained in the tent getting her jeans back on. He admired the work he done on her neck but his eyes fixated on the burn scars he caught a glimpse of resting on her thighs. She could sense the staring and tensed only for a moment until her pants were back on.

“There’s not enough make up in the world to cover your attack on my neck and chest. But I don’t give a fuck who notices”

“Don’t know about your family, but these folk don’t know when not to include themselves in other’s business. They are def gonna ask where mine came from” Daryl chuckles lightly bringing himself to completely sit on the cot referring to his own hickeys that were more on the neck and shoulder. Including a bite mark that Y/N couldn’t help herself last night, it was either that or wake the whole tent city. “It’s still early”

“Yeah but just like your folks, my family is nosey. Especially my sisters.” She sighs while buttoning up her flannel even if she does prefer it open, just needs a minute to get inside and in her room before the interrogation starts.

“Y/N.”

Y/N turned to Daryl once she sat on the ground to get her shoes on as she could sense the hint of worry coming from the man and she could only assume was toward what he saw.

“We’re not so different” Y/N states finishing tying her shoes. “Mine were just. Self inflicted”

He couldn’t contain his concern even if in his own special way it was only noticed through his eyes and body language. Y/N could read him and part of Daryl worried about that.

“You stop?”

“Don’t be—-“

“I ain’t gonna be one of those nut jobs that tell yea “please stop for me”. Only you can really make that decision”

“Well, I did. When I moved back”

“And how long ago was that?”

“Three months before the world ended” and with that Y/N took her leave, leaving the first aid kit with Daryl giving her a reason to come back.

Even if a part of him wanted to go after her.

The two had their alone time a few times before news of “walkers in the barn” spread to the group. Daryl felt a sense of betrayal since Y/N cares so much about their safety in the past few days that she didn’t tell him anything about it. But when he went to the back door where he’d usually meet her, he heard shouting from inside coming from her.

“Walkers in the goddamn barn, old man?!”

“People are in that barn. Good people. I’m protecting the—-“

“They’re already gone! They stopped being themselves the second the infection spread from the bite”

“You don’t know that”

“Are you fucking kidding me?!” Y/N scoffed pinching the bridge of her nose trying to contain her anger and failing. “I swear to god if I open it—-“

“—You wouldn’t—-“

“—-and find mom in there after you said she just “disappeared”. I’m going to prove you she’s not mom anymore”

Daryl couldn’t help but flinch when he heard the ring from the slap that came from Hershel’s hand meeting Y/N’s cheek. Normally one would cry but instead she kept her composure and decided to reframe from saying another word or she would’ve acted instead. He quickly stepped away when the door flung open seeing the anger in her eyes and body language. The single tear that rolled off her cheek made him act without realizing and gently brushed it away watching her relax but not enough to fall into his arms and stay there. She pulled herself away shooting him a temporary smile before walking into the woods behind the house to clear her head.

The eldest Greene only returned to the shouting happening and then sudden gun fire which led her to grabbing hers on the way over to the commotion happening by the barn. Y/N froze beside her father watching Maggie comfort him while the others started shooting down the walkers that flooded out. She heard quick footsteps coming as she stopped whoever, Beth, from going any further as she held onto her. She held her as she sobbed watching the dust settle and one walker left started stumbling out.

Sophia.

Daryl quickly latched himself onto Carol before she could even get close to her daughter. Her sobs grew louder the more she was restrained from seeing her little girl that was soon ended by the sheriff that left her all alone in the first place. Rick will forever take that as his fault and won’t ever forget it.

It took them all a second to adjust to what happened as Daryl helped Carol on her feet only for her to thrash out so his grasp from anger and loss. Y/N did her best to keep Beth away from the carnage but she slipped from her grasp causing her to follow her little sister to the pile of walkers.

“Beth, no that’s not—“

“That’s our mom!” She cried as she brought herself to her knees beside the corpse pushing the one on top of it off her. “Ma…”

Her screaming caused everyone to act. The men quickly grabbed at her pulling her away from the reanimated corpse as Y/N quickly came through and slammed her foot into the skull of the sicko. There was a pause in the chaos of Beth screaming, Carol sobbing, and a few of them bickering. Just a pause to let what happened sink in.

“Y/N…” Maggie exhaled watching her fixated gaze to her foot coated in the aged blood as she slowly lifts her foot and stepped away. “Y/N, wait!” She quickly followed her as Y/N made her way past their father.

“I never should’ve come back” Y/N frowns continuing on her way to who knows, and on her route she took the pack of cigarettes out from her back pocket tossing them to the ground which only those who knew would understand.

But she kept her lighter.

After taking care of a few things, Daryl was finally left to take care of himself. Even if he wasn’t going to. His anger feasted mainly on himself compared to being toward others, granted he doesn’t have any reason to be mad toward anybody except for maybe Rick or Hershel for that barn bullshit. Or Shane. Hell he was frustrating himself. He wasn’t going to do anything with her in that sense but needed to find her.

It didn’t take much searching because as much as she hated the place, Y/N stuck close for a lot of reasons. Daryl only found her when she tossed an acorn at his head from above where she sat on one of the branches.

“Obviously looking for me”

“Not for that though.”

“I didn’t do anything if you’re thinking—-“

“No. Well, not entirely” Daryl shrugs watching her climb down the tree to be level with him. “You stalled. Stayed in…the corpse”

“If your mother turned, and you had to end her the way I did…you wouldn’t move right away.”

“Thankfully my mom died in a fire she caused”

“Thankfully?” Y/N scoffs watching him shrug again which made an ill laugh escape her lips. “I wish she didn’t die that way.”

“I wish you didn’t have to be the one to end it. Entirely. I’m sorry”

“Daryl…” Y/N frowns looking him dead in the eye waiting for it. Waiting for him to say it even if his anger started to get the best of him in the moment. “It’s not your fault”

“Stop”

“It’s not”

“But it is!” Daryl snapped in her face realizing she flinched and given all the feelings in the air that day, she couldn’t keep her guard up in that moment. “She wasn’t even mine. Not my daughter. How could I blindly care so much?”

“I was like that in the beginning of whatever we are”

“What?”

“Caring so blindly. I didn’t know you and I came and saved you. Well until that annoying blond put a bullet in you…almost. Then I saved you. In my own way.” Y/N crosses her arms bringing herself close enough to lean against the tree she was just in. “Sometimes, you just care and don’t need a reason. Then the more you know a person all the reasons come to light”

“I care about yea, yknow. Even when I didn’t know a thing”

“You cared about her, without knowing a single thing. From what I heard, there is a person at fault but even then? Rick shouldn’t bully himself for a child running from danger. Kids don’t listen. That’s why they have parents to care for them. Or siblings. It’s harder when the kid has to care for themself. But that’s beside the point…” She turned her head in the direction of the house. “It’s all a shitshow. The end of the world. But we make do with it. Care about those we’ve just met or learned more about in such a little time”

“We need all the people in our lives for as long as we can” Daryl frowns bringing himself closer as Y/N moved her arms to her sides watching him get close enough that she could feel his breath on her. But he brought his forehead to rest against hers, feeling her hands find purchase on his neck. “You’re allowed to fall apart”

And she did. In the comforts of his presence then his arms…and his warm embrace. Things continued to escalate at the farm that eventually, it was set ablaze. All the commotion caused everyone to scramble, lose a few, and meet up on the highway. Daryl’s anxiety shot up when he couldn’t find the eldest Greene sister with her other sisters that were driven to “safety” by Glenn and Hershel.

Then the rustling of the woods were heard and few thought it was more of the walkers. But suddenly, Y/N stumbled out falling against the slope that led to the freeway and before any of her remaining family could rush to her…Daryl was already at her side helping her stand and she was met with a tearful gaze coming from the man that she didn’t care about keeping it a secret anymore…Y/N pressed her lips firmly against his for a short lived kiss before he brought her entirely in his arms holding her.

“Oh you so owe me” Maggie made the comment toward Beth as she glares at her sister. A bet was made. If that wasn’t clear.

“How long have—-“

“No time to act like a father right now. We need to find shelter for the night.” Rick cut off Hershel and gave Daryl a look to start the ride with his bike since he can maneuver and find a path easier. But instead of Carol being on his bike, Y/N took that spot rightfully and not like Carol was complaining.

It was a short ride but long enough for Daryl to realize Y/N’s trembling from the shock of watching her home burn and the struggle of getting out of there alive. She didn’t go unscathed but the cuts were small and not so deep. Daryl still took care of them.

After Rick’s whole speech, it was time to call it a night and stick close to everyone. Daryl took first watch which meant Y/N sticking with him.

“Your old man didn’t look too happy about us”

“He’ll have to get used to it.” Y/N whispered to him feeling his arm snake around her shoulders keeping her close. “Cant believe it’s gone”

“I’m sorry”

Y/N shrugged a little before bringing herself closer to him enjoying the warmth he emitted. “Least I got these on my way out” she pulled out her pack of cigarettes which made a laugh escape Daryl’s lips.

It took some time to get used to the idea that they were going to be moving a lot until something more permanent came along. But they also needed something permanent to come by the end of nine months because Lori was pregnant.

Everyone noticed how stressed Rick would get when Lori would shut him out for his decision making that lead them here so a few did their best to keep that level low.

“Daryl and I are gonna go hunt for dinner while my old man and Carol set up camp for the night” Y/N informs Rick on her way out. “Glenn, Maggie, and T-Dog should be back soon with whatever they scavenged from the few houses around”

“Thanks Y/N, be back before nightfall” Rick stated watching her nod before following Daryl out of the house they decided to make their shelter for the night.

As much as they did what they told Rick what they were going to do. They planned on other things.

“Fuck—-“ Y/N cursed adjusting herself against the counter even with Daryl pinning her against such. “Maybe we do this on the floor next time” her hands slipped resulting in Daryl picking her up still deep inside her velvety walls and forcing her against the wall.

“Better?” He huffed watching her arms move to find purchase around his neck.

“Yes, please continue” Y/N begged as Daryl instantly latched his lips against hers picking up the pace thrusting inside of her using the wall to his advantage so he could bring one of his hands to her clit helping her reach her release.

Her toes curled and heels dug into his back when she reached her high and felt Daryl remove his hand from her clit to have a better grasp on her while he quickened his pace and thrusted harder reaching his own release, spilling inside her warmth. They held onto each other catching their breaths.

“Holy shit…” Y/N gasps softly when Daryl adjusted his stance still inside of her. “So…”

“Round two?” He smirks followed by one appearing on her features pressing her lips against his. Before the two suddenly flinched to the sound of a spring lock. “Shit”

“Mm. Maybe later?”

“Imma hold yea to that, sunshine” Daryl kisses her once more before pulling out of her helping her gain her balance using himself as her steady.

After helping clean up, Daryl checked the trap they set pulling out a raccoon that unfortunately met its end. Y/N stepped out carrying a few finds that would help a few with keeping warm during the colder nights. Blankets, sweaters, etc.

“Think we should set up a few more traps before we head back”

“Sounds good” Y/N extended her hand for Daryl to hand off the raccoon so he could set them up. “I’m gonna put some of these things by your bike so I can sweep around”

“Be careful yeah? I’ll join yea when I’m done”

Y/N kept the catch attached to her backpack on her while the blankets and clothes were left on his bike. She went through a few houses near the one they both were in and stopped in one of the few two stories finding a few more canned goods and took note of how secure the building was. Maybe they could move there for a few weeks? She thought while stepping through the place some more, stopping at the fireplace finding the photos coated in dust. She extended a hand toward one deciding to dust it off and find an old married couple behind the glass. They looked happy. In love. Y/N didn’t quite understand the feeling she was feeling in her chest when staring at the picture of a random couple.

“Anything good?” Daryl’s voice snapped her out of her thoughts as she sets the picture back where it was.

“Nothing I haven’t already put in my bag. I’m ready when you are”

Heading back was quiet and that didn’t concern Daryl much given it was getting late. But Y/N started to act off that it even concerned her. She was more exhausted than usual, finding herself sleeping more in her spot of the house wherever they moved, she ate less, took more of the first night watch shift, and went out less with Daryl. Every time she did, Daryl mainly kept an eye on her and their conversation was smaller than usual. This has been going on for a month, and they’ve been house hoping for three so far. It was about to become winter.

Y/N was taking a longer night watch given Rick, Daryl, and Glenn decided to head out for a small hunting trip to bring back enough game to last them through winter. Even if Daryl said he was going to hunt through the cold months just not as frequently. She was once again lost in her thoughts while looking out into the darkness staring occasionally at the trigger line. Worrying about the group, missing Daryl, fearing what could happen—

“Sweetheart?” Hershel whispered for those sleeping inside but was loud enough to get Y/N’s attention. “How are you feeling?”

Ever since the fire, Hershel has been trying to rekindle the father daughter relationship with his oldest. Even if in her head, he’s always going to be her dad and it wouldn’t take much to repair it. He’s already apologized enough. But she expected it again tonight.

“I’m tired”

“I’ve noticed. Are you falling ill with somethin’? I can go out with Maggie to go look for—-“

“No, no. I’m not sick” Y/N frowns watching her dad take a seat with her. “I don’t feel good. Yeah…but the other thing is just. I love him but I’m afraid to tell him”

Hershel couldn’t help the laugh that escaped him which only brought a glare and a huff out of his daughter. “I told your mother that I loved her, first. She didn’t say it back and honestly? I didn’t expect her to. I just want her to know that I loved her. Then a few months later she tells me she loves me too. For some they say it immediately back, or they take a while. But that doesn’t mean what they do for you, has zero trace of love toward you.”

Y/N couldn’t help the little tears that spilled from her eyes when her dad said such. Hershel gently brought his arm around her shoulder bringing her in so she could rest her head on his shoulder continuing to cry if she needed.

A couple more days passed and the sick feeling turned into vomiting and migraines every other day. Y/N couldn’t shake a feeling and decided to act on it.

“Y/N…” Beth shook her older sister awake as Y/N slowly sits up looking to the other side of her seeing Daryl still fast asleep then she turned to the window finding it still dark out.

“What’s wrong?” She whispers tucking the loose hair in Beth’s face behind her ear.

“I started my period…and I don’t have anything…”

Y/N nodded knowing exactly what she was asking as she tugs her pack over to them rummaging through it. She then realizes she missed her period.

“Uhm. I don’t have anything, love. Maybe ask Mags in the morning? I’ll ask Carol if she’s stumbled across any”

“Okay…” Beth frowns watching her sister go into her bag knowing she at least had pain meds and gave it her to see a small smile form for a moment before she shuffled back.

Her anxiety started to eat at her and she knew the only way to know for sure is to get a test. But that will wait for the morning.

“Hey I’m gonna take a car into the nearby town. Sweep the place one last time before we move again before the weather goes from just cold to snow”

“Sounds like a great idea.” Rick stood up grabbing his coat. “I’ll tag along with you and Daryl”

“If Daryl wants to tag along. I was gonna ask Mags” Y/N states receiving a confused and concerned look from Daryl while her sister lights up with a smile. “Maybe you and Glenn can do one last hunt and check the traps before we move?”

“Alright. But he’s gotta keep up with me like yea do”

“He will” Y/N laughs softly smiling as Daryl snuck in a kiss on the cheek when no one was looking. “We’ll be back before nightfall”

“Yeah I’ll make sure to get some baby stuff if we come across it” Rick tells Lori only to be met with an avoidance in her gaze as her hand stayed on her already showing belly. Y/N couldn’t help the staring toward the two before squeezing her eyes shut and quickly stepping out once she got her backpack and a coat.

Maggie took care of driving and Rick took the passengers, leaving Y/N alone in the backseat scribbling in this journal Maggie found for her on a run with Glenn. She mainly wrote her concerns and the obvious one plaguing her mind was

Is she pregnant?

They were reckless, now he’s going to leave her.

Does he even like kids? He doesn’t talk much to Carl…

“I don’t know what I’m doing wrong” Rick frowns looking out the window as Maggie turned to him for a second with a confused look. “She’s mad about it all. What happened with Shane and being pregnant in the apocalypse. She thinks because she had a c-section she’s more likely to have another and we don’t have the tools for it. So it stresses me out…thinking I’m gonna lose my wife. But I can’t voice those concerns because she’s mad at me. Pregnant and mad”

“Pregnancy makes women feel all their emotions times 100, Rick. It’s going to be rough for a while” Maggie pats his shoulder glancing back to find Y/N looking a bit more pale than before. “Sis, you alright?”

Without another word, the second she felt the car stop…Y/N quickly ran out ditching her things and going to vomit into the near by bushes. Maggie frowns unbuckling her seatbelt and about to check on her when she noticed her journal in the backseat. Her hesitation made Rick get out to check on her older sister while she picked up the book to read it.

Maggie wasn’t going to tell Y/N she read it. But then read those entries and felt the same anxiety her sister felt for a moment.

Maggie gave Y/N some time to recollect herself after bolting out of the car. But she didn’t mean to corner her in the pharmacy section of the mini grocery store.

“Mags what’s up with that look on your face?”

“I uhm. I’m sorry”

The apology caught Y/N off guard until Maggie just let it out.

“You’re pregnant?” Maggie frowns and the negative look on her face only made Y/N feel so much worse on the matter. But instead of tears, it was anger.

“AND?! So what if I might be pregnant? Like that isn’t going to be a fucking issue when we already have a pregnant woman in the group and look how she and her man are doing. I haven’t even said I love you yet to Daryl and I don’t even know if he wants kids” then the tears suddenly broke out as she stared at the pregnancy test box she had in her hand. “I can’t get rid of it. I don’t want to lose him. The universe took too much from me already, I can’t lose anymore” she sobbed, Maggie didn’t wait another second bringing her sister into her embrace holding her protectively.

“Y’all are gonna try and see if that car works? Just the two of you?”

“It’s not the first time I hot-wired a car by myself” Y/N stated with Maggie nodding to confirm such.

It’s not that Rick didn’t trust the two, it was going to be night soon and that was his concern. But he also needed to get all their findings back.

“Fine. But you have to camp out if it gets too late”

“We’ve got this. If the lights work, we’ll drive back” Maggie smiles as Rick sighs letting them rock and leaving.

The two gave each other a look and Maggie went into her bag taking out the few pregnancy tests handing them to Y/N. She went back inside one of the buildings to do her business while Maggie got started with hot-wiring the car.

“Y/N I don’t feel good…”

“Yeah I know, bug. I’m sorry I’m working as fast as I can” The sixteen year old Y/N tugged on the wires from under the dash to get the car started while her baby sister Maggie continued to groan in the backseat. Being left to babysit while the folks went into town was killer. Especially when no one expected Maggie to have a skyrocketing fever.

“Sis…” She cried the entire drive as Y/N did her best to be a smooth driver into town and to the nearest ER.

“I’ve gotchu, bug. Everything’s gonna be alright”

“Everything’s gonna be alright” Maggie frowns rubbing Y/N’s back as she did her best to contain her tears while they drove back.

“It won’t…it just won’t” Y/N wiped away her tears taking the remaining time back to collect herself. She took out the cartoon of cigarettes from her bag staring at the thing knowing her sister’s gaze to burning a hole into the side of her head. “I’m not going to do them, bug” she frowns rolling the window down and tossing the box out hearing the sigh of relief.

“Good…I need to keep you safe. So it keeps my niece or nephew safe”

The smallest joy brought a temporary smile to grace Y/N’s features even if the uncomfortable anxious feeling clawed at her back over how Daryl will react.

When they arrived back, both Glenn and Daryl were waiting outside the house that was lit from the fire T-Dog got started in the fireplace to keep everybody warm. Glenn instantly went to Maggie’s side checking her in his anxious way that was immediately reassured. But Y/N remained in the car with her head down, driving Daryl nuts internally until he noticed Maggie give him a look to join her and that only made his anxiety worse.

“What’s wrong with—-“

“Just let them be. Cmon, gotta give Beth something” Maggie smiles tugging Glenn along back inside until it was just Daryl and Y/N.

The archer shut the door once he entered and before he even said a word, the eldest Greene daughter exhaled.

“I’m pregnant”

Daryl expected more from her but was met with her silence and honestly, that made him worry for her instead of thinking of his feelings about the news. This explains why she hasn’t been feeling well—-but she could’ve let him in. Makes sense why she wanted to go on a run with her sister—-but he could’ve been there for her. Y/N found out alone for a moment—-yet Daryl could’ve help her the second she did.

“You thought I would leave yea”

Y/N instantly shot her head up turning to him as if he read her mind. Daryl gave her a bit of a disappointed look that was met with brimming tears.

“I’m not gonna leave yea. Never.” Daryl stated as fact which led the tears to spill. “I just wish I help you through it. Yeah you had your sister. But you mean so much to me and this is our future. I wasn’t gonna go anywhere before, I definitely ain’t now” he finished his thought as he stepped out of the car rounding to Y/N’s side and gently pulling her into his arms letting her sob into him as he protectively held onto her.

The winter started to present itself and the news stayed within the three (four if you count Maggie blabbing to Glenn, which was only a matter of time before they all knew). Which led to once they found their home to hold off the winter, Daryl brought himself inside after checking the one trap he placed sitting down beside Y/N.

“There’s something we’ve got to say to you all” Y/N started and felt anxious with everybody staring. Guess the fire took away more than just their safety, but her confidence.

“She’s pregnant” Daryl finished resting a hand on her thigh gently rubbing his thumb in a soothing motion for her to relax.

Before any positive thing said can be thrown up in the air. The shocked expressions turned instantly to confusion and toward Lori when she scoffed toward the news.

“Seriously?” Lori beckoned Y/N to confirm it herself as she did with a nod even if her expression fell when the woman started laughing. “Great that’s just great”

“Lori—-“

“No, shut it Rick. It was already trouble taking care of my pregnant self. What makes y’all think we can take care of two? You two should’ve been more careful and found abortion pills”

“Woah! You don’t get to get to be a bitch just because you’re pregnant” Carol hissed drawing a shocked expression out of the Grimes who quickly turned to her husband for a defense. “No you started this on your own and you will finish it”

“None of us asked for you to be pregnant.” T-Dog adds abruptly. “That shit just happens sometimes. No timing is ever perfect”

“But still—-“

“No you don’t get to talk to my——“

“girl like that” Daryl snapped cutting Hershel off. “Don’t take a good thing and fucking stomp on it just because you’re miserable. You have to remember a few of us have some bullets against yea and I ain’t afraid to fire every single one of them if you come at her again” he frowns bringing his arm entirely around Y/N keeping her close, ignoring the tense look on Lori’s face as Rick’s disappointment turned to a bit of sadness when hearing such. But it was quickly shifted to a smile when his son turned to him then toward the two.

“Congratulations?” Carl laughs the tension away resulting in Beth quickly moving over to hug her sister as Hershel made his way patting Daryl on the back before kissing the top of Y/N’s head.

They were going to be okay. Their village will make sure of it.

The winter months were brutal and miserable for everybody. They had to move once through the cold because the roof collapsed in a section of the old house that made it dangerous for everybody. The group ditched their cars and stayed in the neighborhood just for the winter because of the snow. They’ll go back to the cars later, T-Dog and Beth took care of carrying their extra items that weren’t apart of everybody’s individual packs. Carol and Hershel took care of getting the fire going and getting food for the day ready, Hershel also took care of checking both Lori and Y/N every now and then to make sure they are alright. Rick, Glenn, Maggie, and Daryl were the ones in the watch rotation and as much as he protested, Y/N would tag along with Daryl.

“No”

“I’m not that pregnant yet, Daryl. I can go out with you.”

“It’s snowing”

“So?”

“I go huntin’ by myself all the time and I’d rather yea stay warm than suffer with me”

“And you think it’s going to sit well with me having you suffer the colder conditions?” Y/N glared at the man getting frustrated with the back and forth, Daryl was going to argue again when he noticed both of her sisters shaking their heads not to try. Pregnant or not, she will continue to argue until she’s blue in the face.

“Fine. But layer up” Daryl states letting her get ready as he goes into his pack taking out his poncho to put it on over his layers.

The two went through the center of the neighborhood, Daryl hating the snow and Y/N enjoying it. He only hated it because it made tracking animals difficult and before he could tell her about heading back…

“I love you” Y/N tells him watching him freeze in his place as she anxiously adjusts the rifle on her back gripping the strap. “I don’t expect you to say it back now or in a few months or years. I just needed you to know that I love you and you mean so much to me”

Daryl brought himself close pressing his lips firmly against hers bringing his arms around her. They enjoyed themselves for the moment until Y/N heard shuffling and expected a walker but when she looked behind him. There were deer. But when Daryl got a look, he stopped her from readying her rifle which brought out a confused look from her until she noticed a buck making its appearance along with two babies.

Now they were watching the family just be, making Daryl look over to Y/N watching her smile at the display as he brought his hand to rest on her small bump. She glance to his hand for a second before smiling more and resting her hand over his before continuing to look at the deer family. Thankfully on their way back they got a bunny and a few squirrels that made themselves known in the winter.

It wasn’t long before the warmer months came back and Y/N couldn’t ride on Daryl’s bike anymore. She stuck with Glenn and Maggie and with the moving from house to house increasing. T-Dog and Rick took lead with sweeping the houses they come across before the group resided but Daryl followed behind after checking on Y/N. But when herds came through, they didn’t wait and went straight back into the car and only the road.

“Let’s go hunt” Daryl tells Rick watching him nod as Hershel held him back to talk about Lori’s condition given she’s in her ninth month compared to Y/N in her seventh.

Daryl picked up his canteen from his bike going to Y/N and making sure she kept hydrated when the weather got dangerously hot.

“Gonna go hunt with Rick. We’ll be back soon”

“Stay safe, yeah?”

“You too” Daryl quickly kissed her cheek before going with Rick.

The two stumbled across the prison, which then led to the group taking out walkers in the field to give them shelter for the night before heading inside. The group huddled by the fire talking about Rick, what the prison could do for them, and a few miscellaneous things. Maggie happily let her older sister use her lap as a pillow as she laid on her side using her blanket to cushion her belly from the ground.

“Lot of movement today?”

“Yeah…fucking think this baby loves kicking my ribs” Y/N huffed out a laugh as Maggie brushes back her hair smiling at her watching Daryl return to the group with Carol. He knelt behind her resting his poncho over her before getting comfortable. “Done with watch?”

“We’ve got a gate. Besides, if shit happens it’ll alert all of us and Rick hasn’t left the gate”

“You check on him?” Y/N whispers to Daryl when she moved onto her back for a moment to look at him.

“Do I have to?”

“No, but he shouldn’t have to burden what’s going on with him alone. Even if you don’t quite understand it”

Her words rung in his head especially when they dealt with the prisoners, then the Walker outbreak, losing Lori, almost losing Hershel and Carol…it was a lot. Things seem to only escalate and it didn’t help that all the commotion rendered Y/N speechless and she hasn’t spoken a word the moment Lori died.

She could die too

He will raise this baby alone

What will happen to her family?

She can’t die

She won’t die

Y/N stayed by the gate when they left and she knew her dad and Carol were watching her every move that when the cars pulled in she stepped away after opening one of the doors herself even when Carol came with her protests.

The car pulled in and Y/N waited for Daryl to come out but when everybody except him, she gave Rick a confused look while he hung his head.

“Daryl’s not coming back” Glenn ripped the bandaid off watching his partner shoot him a glare for not taking easy. But in Y/N’s head he did the right thing by just going for it.

“We ran into his brother and he’s not a great guy” Rick started. “But blood is blood from what Daryl told us…we just. Can’t let someone like Merle in the prison with us. He’s not a good guy and I’m sorry but Daryl’s not—-“ when he reached to lay a hand on her shoulder, she immediately smacked it away.

“You touch me and I cut your goddamn fucking hand off” Y/N glares at the retired sheriff watching him nod and step away. She glances down to her belly shutting her eyes tight turning away from everybody and started walking back to the prison.

This baby is half her and half him.

If the roles were reversed, she would’ve left with her sisters.

But that doesn’t make it okay for him to go.

“Has she spoken to anyone? Was snapping at Rick the only thing she said?” Carol asks Maggie as she nods while the concern grew on her face.

“Our daddy went to check on her and the baby. Heartbeats good. But going from a lot of movement to it being still…He thinks we should only worry if it stops for the remainder of her pregnancy.”

“Someone should get her to move. Walk around the prison or somethin’. Sitting there will make it worse for her” Hershel shared his concern as the three looked at Y/N sitting on the mattress Daryl pulled out for him originally on the catwalk.

“Nah. Get in an actual bed” Daryl protested Y/N sitting on the mattress but she did anyway.

“Last I checked a mattress is an actual bed”

“Don’t be smart with me, woman” Daryl sat up leaning into her space watching her stern look fall when he started showering her in kisses. “Least lay down with me”

“I wasn’t gonna stay sat up this entire time” Y/N playfully shoves him.

Y/N brought her attention to the young grimes bringing himself up with stairs with two bowls of food. Carl sat down beside her handing her the second one but she refused.

“Please?” Carl frowns watching her gaze turn to him with a look of ‘why?’ as in why would he be doing this for her. “We’ve…uh. We’ve lost enough people”

A sigh escapes her lips as she gently caresses the young one’s cheek giving him a small thoughtful smile before taking the bowl from him and eating.

“Y/N whisperer” Maggie whispers to Beth as the two were the ones to have Carl send up the bowl because Y/N wouldn’t snap at somebody who recently lost their mom.

They both froze when her gaze turned onto them when she finished the bowl of stew. Y/N handed the bowl to Carl as he stacked the empty bowls getting up but noticed her get up with him. She struggled at first and gestured toward one of her sisters to help as Beth quickly made her way up the steps helping her.

“Take a walk with me?” Y/N asks her youngest sister as she smiles nodding. Once the two met the end of the steps. “You too?” She asks Maggie watching her smile warmly.

Soon the three sisters were on the other side of the prison walking in silence and staring at the occasional walker but kept their focus on what’s in front of them.

“If something happens to me. The two of you will take care of them yeah?”

“Nothing is going to happen to you, sis. Nothing” Maggie’s smile instantly faded when her sister said such.

“I know, bug. But please”

“This is your first. Nothing like what happened to Lori will happen to you…” Beth frowns trying not to cry at the thought of losing her older sister. “Can’t lose you…I won’t have it”

“Beth, sweetheart, I know everybody is going to do everything they can to not let the worst case scenario happen…I just. Need the reassurance”

“They will be loved and cared for…if worst comes to worst.” Maggie brought her arm around her sister as Beth did the same, both on either side of Y/N. “We all will be okay”

The moment they got close to the main entrance, the gates were being opened to let in Daryl with his brother Merle shortly behind him. Y/N watched Maggie retract at the sight of the older brother as she brought herself over watching Daryl light up slightly but avoid her gaze.

“So you’re Merle”

“And you’re the woman my brother knocked up. Boy would not shut up about you being the reason he needs to come back. Who woulda thought someone softened my baby brother” Merle smirks and before another word came out of Y/N, everyone around watched her sock the man hard enough in the face that the force knocked him on his ass.

“Your brother is amazing to me even if I want that punch to also be at him for leaving” Y/N frowns looking down at Merle as she held her belly a moment followed by a sigh. “But that was a hundred percent meant for you”

“You just fucking met me”

“You kidnapped my sister and her partner. Beat him to a pulp and let that disgusting man touch my bug.” Y/N stared blankly at the man as it held so much anger that made him nervous. “Just be glad Daryl is your brother. Or I would’ve put a bullet in yea” she stepped away with Beth and Maggie following her while Daryl helped his brother to his feet.

“I like her” Merle smirks and was immediately manhandled by Rick to be put in their makeshift cell since they’re living in the actual ones. The same cell Michonne was in until she got on their good side.

Daryl hesitantly went to the catwalk finding Y/N there as he brought himself to sit with her. The silence was killing him but the way she soften when he returned to her. She couldn’t help but take his hand into hers while the other continued to rub circles on her belly.

“Are you—-“

“Oh I’m mad. But I have to keep calm or the baby won’t move” Y/N frowns feeling him let go of her hand to bring his on her belly thinking it will work…and it did. It was the smallest kick but it got tears to form in Y/N’s eyes making Daryl wipe them away and try to contain his own for his actions. “Are you okay? You ain’t going to leave again right?”

“Right. I ain’t leaving…I promise. I really promise this time” Daryl brought his arms around her holding her as she adjusted to lay comfortably in his embrace.

The plan about the governor escalated and succeeded. He was no longer a threat, but they lost so much in the process. Y/N found herself in the field where they buried their own, holding a flashlight for Daryl as he was burying another body. But it was his brother. The others wouldn’t approve but Y/N knew how much Merle sacrificed and thought he should be honored in a way. Daryl appreciated it. Even if he couldn’t control the tears that fell when he finished burying him. Y/N the best she could, wrapped her arms around him resting her cheek against his back.

“He did good”

“He did good…”

About a month went by and the Woodbury infusion went smoothly, and those started helping making the prison more of a function home. The one finished thing was the water plan that T-Dog brought up, thankful for him.

“You’re hovering”

“Okay?” Daryl scoffs leaning against the cell door to their room. “It either me or your old man”

“As if he’s not already there” Y/N turned to him with an annoyed look listening to Daryl sigh before Hershel made himself known. “I’m not going to fucking pop”

“That’s a creative way of putting it. You’re close to your due date. We want you to be safe”

“Yeah whatever.” Y/N pushed herself up and off the bed as they both were quick to her sides. “Okay I will kick that fake leg and make you fall and kick him in the balls if you both don’t stop hovering”

“Okay I will listen but I ain’t stopping him” Hershel pats Daryl’s shoulder. “Call me or Dr. S for any change”

Daryl nods watching him go as he gave a blank look to his girl crossing his arms. Y/N instantly glared at him but he kept his stance.

“I want to take a walk”

“I’ll go with yea.”

“Fine. But I’ll punch you over if you pick me up when I’m too tired” Y/N waddled past as he crossed his heart before following behind her.

There was a lot of commotion outside. Rick started working on the farm with Maggie, Glenn and a few Woodbury folk were clearing walkers, Tyreese was helping Carol build the outdoor grill along with Sasha helping with getting tables in, Beth was taking care of Judith as Carl rambled on about some comics that Michonne found for him, and Michonne was out on her weekly runs. Daryl helped around but mainly took the morning and night shifts when Y/N was asleep so that he would be there for her the rest of the time.

“Alex?”

“Nah, we ain’t having a boy anyway”

“I get it. But if it happens we still need a name”

“Robin goes both ways”

“God you’re so fucking lucky I like that name. And Fallon. But not for a boy name”

“Mmm…” Daryl glanced around thinking about a name for her sake. “Mark”

“Do you like Mark?”

“No”

“Then why did you—-“ Y/N scoffed. “Hunter’s mark?”

“You wanted boy names” Daryl shrugs. “Mark is a name. Hunter is also a name”

“Next thing you’re gonna say is Striker and that’s because of a brand of crossbows” Y/N continued to walk leaving Daryl a bit surprised that she knew that before catching up with her.

They were walking for two hours and Daryl was confused for half of the walk wondering why she even decided to walk for that long. Until she went back inside grabbing onto his shirt giving him a pain filled look.

“I thought it was nothing”

“What was nothing?”

“The fucking pain, Dixon. It’s too much”

It clicked a little late for Daryl but he instantly picked up Y/N only for her to start punching his chest in protest. “HERSHEL!” He shouted for the man while bringing his girl to the infirmary of the prison.

“Stop” Y/N whines hunched over in the bed as the contractions were awful for her. She smacked away Hershel’s hand when he tried to get a blood pressure cuff they found on her. “It’s too much. I’m not ready” she sobbed.

“I know sweetheart but the baby is. I’m gonna—-“

“Hell fucking no. I’m not having my dad check down there” Y/N covered her lower half with the blanket as Daryl felt her squeeze the crap out of his hand. He can take it.

“Beth. Get Caleb right now” Hershel shouted watching her exit the room as a small group formed at the entrance. “Unless you’re helping. Keep that area open”

When the other doctor arrived, Y/N was already reaching an uncomfortable amount of pain as she leans into Daryl feeling him rub circles on her back not like it did much. The words the doctor was saying weren’t registering but when he gestured for the blanket to look making her nod quickly.

“Yeah baby ain’t waiting. She’s crowning. We have anything for gloves?” Caleb asks as Hershel shakes his head before handing him a towel to catch the baby in. “Well alright.” He set the towel down for a moment and dunk his hands into the bucket Glenn got once he was asked earlier so it would be a bit more sterile. “You have to push on the next contraction”

“No…” She whined gripping Daryl’s hand tightly again. “It hurts I don’t want to”

“You have to sunshine. You have to push”

“But I’m tired” She whined followed by sobs as Daryl brushes the hair out of her face pressing his forehead against hers.

“Cmon sunshine. We gotta meet our little one” He whispers to her looking her in the eye as her voice started to tremble. “I love you. I love you so much Y/N. You’re being so strong right now and gotta continue to be alright? You gotta push now”

Y/N started to sob even more from the pain, the anxiety, the deceleration. She nodded listening to her partner as she waited for the next contraction to push resulting in her screaming which had a bit of an echo through the parts of the prison close to the infirmary.

“Good almost there” Caleb reassures. “One more big push”

“One more sunshine. One more and our little one is here”

One more push…led to the room filled with sobs. Tears from Y/N continued, tears broke out from Daryl, and the loud sobs that erupted from their baby girl being handed to the mother. Soft congratulations left the doctor’s mouth but nothing registered as the two’s attentions were glued to this little girl. A healthy little girl.

“You did good, mama” Daryl choked up wiping his tears looking at their little girl in her arms finally calming down. “She’s perfect, yeah?”

“So perfect” Y/N sobbed through a smile turning to him as he instantly kissed her. “I love you…”

“I love you” Daryl smiles keeping his family close.

When night fell, they moved back into their cellblock once everything was cleaned up and Y/N was well enough to walk. She was fast asleep in their bed as Daryl was wide awake sat up in the bed beside her holding their little girl that looked up at him with the same blue eyes he had.

“You are…so perfect, Robin”

[goldwritesfanfics]

Aventurine x Reader - Physical Touch Headcanons!

Well, the title pretty much explains it, lol. Headcanons along with some dialogue that I thought would be said in those situations. Aventurine is Reader’s boyfriend, Reader is referred to as Y/N in the dialogue. Fluff with angst (Aventurine’s backstory) but there’s a happy ending/comfort. Hugging and kissing, and SFW as always! <3

He loves when you play with his hair. The feeling of you running your fingers through it with gentle touch makes him feel calm and at peace.

At first he wasn’t comfortable with physical touch such as hand holding, hugging, or kissing, but over time as he becomes closer with you he loves it.

It took a while, but once he felt that he was able to be vulnerable with you he was okay with such things.

The first time you hugged him, he flinched. It wasn’t anything personal, just instinct since he was abused for so long. He’s not used to people touching him in a way that won’t hurt him. :(

“Oh! Are you- Did you not want me to hug you?” you asked.

“No, you can, please do. Sorry, I just wasn’t expecting it,” he responded.

You knew why.

“It’s… It’s because of what they did to you, isn’t it? That now you’re not used to people showing you kindness in the form of touch. You’re…”

“Yeah. Used to feeling pain, I guess,” he said with a sigh. “But like… I know you’ll never hurt me, so I just have to work on not flinching. It’s nice really, the feeling of someone wrapping their arms around you and showing that they care. So, don’t stop, Y/N.”

This also goes for when you two were making out once, and you accidentally brushed your hand over his scar. He pulled away, flinching:

“Aventurine, I- I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to- Did I hurt you? I—“

“No, it’s fine. You didn’t hurt me. It’s just instinct, you know. Being burned was one of the worst pains i’ve ever felt. So, it’s not that it’s still painful, which, it’s a scar, it doesn’t hurt anymore, but that it hurt so bad back then.”

“I’m so sorry, baby…” you said as you slightly held out your hand, hoping that he would notice and want to take it.

“Don’t be,” he said as he saw your hand, took it, and held it closer as he pulled you into a warm embrace. “It’s not your fault. And, Y/N, I love you so much.”

Those words, “I love you so much” echoed through your head. You cherished that moment there in his arms.

So yeah, there were things you two needed to talk about, but with communication and kindness you were able to get a better understanding of your boyfriend.

Nowadays as you two have become very close, he loves hand holding, hugs, cuddles, and kisses. he’ll always ask for them :)

His favorite thing is when he gets home from work and you’re there waiting for him. He’ll get behind you and put his arms over your shoulders, kissing your cheek from behind.

He love love loves taking you places. You’re so kind, thoughtful, and beautiful, and he is extremely proud to have you as his partner.

And most importantly, he trusts you.

A/N: Aaand that’s my second ever post! I really hope it’s good, I’m still new to all of this, and I also hope it’s not OOC— that’s how i personally think he would speak when you two are in a relationship. Thanks for reading this far! <3

[its-your-mind]

Something something timkon and hair and how lex lichrally programmed Kon to shave his head before he went all luthor and was forced to attack his team, his best friends, his family. and then how most of the hair on the back of Tim’s head got burned off when he got blowed up (thx Steph) and he had to cut or shave the rest of it off so it could grow back semi-evenly. and how kon was a #rebel esp compared to all-American Boy Scout Superman; Kon’s rockin around with the side cut and the leather jacket and the buckles and the spikes or the (ill-advised and made me sad) black t-shirt and jeans but even the “I am a totally normal bro” getup made him distinct and different from Kal and that is really important to Kon because he wants to be his own person, not a Superman-stand-in. and THEN fucking LEX made it so Kon would look more like Lex! his other DNA donor!!! And Tim!! He kept his hair short — just long enough to spike it up as Robin — until both of his parents were gone. which suggests to me that he kinda always wanted it long (hello Tim Drake, #1 Dick Grayson stan) but that just wasn’t an option allowed to him (not uncommon for parents who care Very Much about Appearances — my own parents were the same about my brothers’ hair growing up, not least because the private all-boys school they went to dictated that their hair couldn’t be long enough to touch the collar of their shirt (with exceptions for [insert kinda racist and vaguely xenophobic language here] hair styles). As soon as he turned 18 my baby brother got a rocker-style mane. But I digress. Anyway). Then, post-tragedy, Tim’s hair got long enough to flip down over his forehead and stream behind him when he swung through the city (perhaps one of his ways of clinging to control and his sense of self in the whole awful situation). But then… Tim got fucking exploded, betrayed by his ex-girlfriend who had only just returned after letting him grieve her death for a year, and now she’s following Tim’s dead father mentor’s instructions to challenge him or whatever the fuck bullshit Batman told her, (a young girl whose own father was an asshole criminal, who so desperately wanted Bruce to be proud of her) and now Tim has to cut his hair all the way down to the scalp again and listen. I’m sorry dc tim looks fucking amazing in adventure comics and I’m in love with how he is arted but hair cannot and does not grow back that quick!! Mf had to wait!! I bet it grew in fucking patchy!! I bet kon’s did too!! (prolly not as bad as Tim’s cuz Tim’s got scar tissue and shit.)

but I just think tim and kon deserve a chance to sit down and just commiserate with each other about growing their hair back out (growing back out a sidecut is a BITCH I speak from experience) and Tim’s prolly having to trim his own hair super often to keep it nice-ish while it comes back in, and Kon’s curls are just a fucking MESS until they grow out enough to like. Curl. (Again, speaking from experience) And they’re just shooting the shit (“well MINE was worse bc I looked like fucking LEX. LUTHOR.” / “well you didn’t have to wait to figure out which parts of your scalp we actually gonna bother growing hair again”) until it gets quiet for a minute. And then one of them asks if the hair also reminds the other one of The Shitty Thing That Happened. And then they fucking talk about it. About how they can’t look in the mirror without having a flashback of pain or rage. How it makes them feel like they don’t even get to control their own bodies, their own appearances, and how much that fucking sucks. How they go to run their hand through their hair and there’s just. Not enough of it to do that. How Kon is terrified that somehow looking like Lex means Lex will use him to hurt the people he loves again. How every time Tim sees another Bat or Bird looking at the back of his head, all he can think about is how they might be planning to lure him into another Bat-mandated trap test. How both Tim and Kon kinda really miss the feeling of people playing with their hair. How they miss playing with each others’ hair.

And maybe then one of them extends an offer and the other does the same and they agree to do each others’ hair. Maybe it’ll help paint a new layer over those awful memories.

So Kon finds Tim once a week (he’s never in the same place, he’s rarely even in the same country) and he trims the hair until it looks even, gives Tim the #sitch on how much hair is growing back in. After the second or third week he realizes that Tim’s not keeping up with his burn-care routine, so he starts bringing burn and scar cream with him too. Then he remembers Tim’s lack of a hair care routine and starts trying out different products on Tim’s hair to see what works best. Tim doesn’t say anything, but he thinks all of this feels even better than when Kon and Cassie used to twist little braids into his hair.

Kon insists that Tim doesn’t have to help until his hair’s grown out more, (that he doesn’t want Tim nearby and distracted while Kon still looks like Lex) but Tim outright refuses to let Kon push him away and he will NOT be outdone in the caretaking game. He waits until Kon’s busy fighting some giant alien robot in metropolis and sneaks in to the Kents’ house to scope out what products Kon uses. When he leaves the bathroom, Ma Kent is there, eyebrow raised. She tells him he “could have just knocked on the front door, sweetheart, we know how’ta keep secrets in this house. Now, let’s get some food in you before Conner comes home. You’re all skin and bones, hun.” So Tim goes downstairs and takes some mini meat pies for the road, and then researches the products Kon uses, what they do, what the ingredients do, if there are other (more expensive) options that people have sworn up and down are better. He amasses a collection, and the next time Kon shows up with clippers and healing creams and a new shampoo to try, Tim’s already got ten different products lined up on the sink — everything from shampoos and conditioners to serums and masks. Kon asks if these are things Tim wants Kon to use in Tim’s hair. Tim tells him that no, all of these are for Tim to try on Kon. Kon almost cries. (He does cry, he just doesn’t let the tears fall until Tim isn’t looking.) (Tim notices anyway ofc.) And Tim’s made a spreadsheet to track the effectiveness of different products, different ingredients, different combinations, so he tells Kon to start coming every 2-3 days instead, so he can establish results using a realistic timeframe. Sometimes, if Tim’s gonna be in one place for a few days, Kon just crashes with him. (Neither of them say it, but they both fucking CRAVE the old Core Four cuddle piles.) Eventually, when Kon’s hair is long enough that he’s ready to switch back to his side-cut again, Tim surprises him by not only shaving the hair down, but shaving a few racing stripes (“they’re flight patterns!” / “rob, I dunno what to tell you. everyone’s gonna think they’re racing stripes. doesn’t mean they aren’t dope as fuck, though.”) into Kon’s hair. Every time Kon’s hair grows out enough, Tim shaves it back and stencils in a new design. Kon starts making requests (“gimme the Super ‘S’!” / “It’s the House of El crest, Kon. You know that. Also, you have a secret identity to maintain.” / “C’mon, I’ll just say I’m a fan!” / “With the same El family crest shaved onto your scalp as Superboy?” / “No one’s noticed the identical head decor yet!”) but it’s the day Kon asks (with the same confident and mischievous tone as always) for Tim to shave in the Red Robin crest that something in Tim’s chest, something formless and warm that he hadn’t really paid attention to before, seers a burning path through his heart, takes root, and solidifies.

“Kon. I love you.”

Kon’s distracted, rifling through their hair-care bags for Tim’s razors. “Love you too, Robbie. Duh. That’s why I’m askin’ you to shave your cre–”

“No,” Tim shakes his head, mildly frustrated with himself for the lack of clarity. “I’m in love with you. I think I have been for a while.”

Kon is seated in the chair they’d pulled into the bathroom from the hotel room’s desk, so he has to look up to meet Tim’s eyes. The hand digging beneath sample bottles of leave-in conditioner freezes, still wrist-deep in hair products. Kon’s expression looks to Tim like one of his video games’ character builders froze between the settings for ‘bright smile’ and ‘shock and awe.’

So Tim just looks down at him. Waits. If this was anyone else, Tim would probably be losing his mind right now, but… it’s Kon. Tim’s safe. Kon would never do anything to hurt him.

Kon unfreezes, blinks a few times. “Could you–” he coughs. “Could you say that again? I think my brain maybe like, malfunctioned for a second.”

Tim takes a step closer, reaches out one hand to cup Kon’s cheek, scratches his fingertips through the stubble on the side of Kon’s head. “I’m in love with you, Conner Kent.”

Tears fill Kon’s eyes, and he blinks them away. “That’s– that’s what I thought you said.” His hand (the one not trapped beneath a sea of shampoos, some detached and unhelpful part of Tim’s mind remarks) comes up to gently rest on Tim’s hip. “Robbie, Tim, I– of course I’m in love with you. You– you’re– you’re amazing, you know that? You’re so kind and strong and you’re a genius and you’re a gift to everyone around you; I dunno how everyone else doesn’t see you like I do.”

Tim can’t help but reach out his other hand to wrap around the back of Kon’s head, to feel where the curls carve a path down through the shorter hair and come to a sharp point.

“I mean, damn Wonder Boy,” Kon tries to muster up his Superboy smirk, but the look in his eyes is full of too much genuine affection for him to pull it off. “I think I’ve been in love with you since Kauai, since you grabbed me outta free-fall and swung me to safety. You caught me. No one’d ever done that before. And then you just… kept doing it. You’re still saving me, still taking care of me.”

Kon reaches his other hand (no eruption of hairspray, thank you TTK, that same unhelpful part of Tim’s mind comments. Read the room! the rest of Tim yells at it.) around the back of Tim’s neck, avoiding the tender and scarred areas with practiced ease, and pulls Tim down until their foreheads touch.

“I love you, Wonder. I love you, Robbie.” Kon tilts his head up, waits until their eyes meet. He’s got the biggest smile on his face that Tim’s ever seen.

Tim smiles back, and Kon’s eyes soften. “I love you, Tim.”

Tim leans down and uses his hands on either side of Kon’s head to guide Kon’s lips up to his own.

This is what I want to remember, Tim thinks as he feels Kon’s fingers gliding softly against the sensitive skin of his burn, feels Kon’s TTK covering and protecting the parts still too tender to touch. Tim runs his own fingertips back and forth over the stubble on the sides of Kon’s head, before pushing them up until they’re tangled in Kon’s curls.

I don’t want to care anymore whether or not the people around me look at the back of my head and see weakness or failure. They don’t get to decide whether this mark on my body matters or what it means. I do. And I decide that these scars are important because they brought me here, to this moment. They brought me to Kon.

Kon tilts his head down to break the kiss. He stands up, and before Tim gets a chance to move away and give him space, Kon wraps his arms and TTK around him. He plants a kiss in Tim’s hair. “Damn, Wonder Boy. Having to grow all my hair back almost feels worth it if it got me here.”

Tim smiles and wraps his arms around Kon’s waist, nestles into Kon’s chest. “You know what, Clone Boy? I was just thinking the same thing.”

[alonetimelover]

A fluffy little number 10 (5 words) for the blurb night🥺

"I miss you every day."

pairing: Harry Styles x popstar!reader

summary: YN is away and Harry is back home with their two kids - Judie and Teddy. When the name 'mama' is mentioned they just need to call her.

word count: 1k

blurb#1 blurb#2

popsatr!reader

“Judie. Please, put your brother down,” Harry said to his older child, seeing how Jude was lifting Teddy up and moving him somewhere else.

“But daddy. But daddy,” Jude repeated, fixing the laughing Teddy in his arms. “Teddy was falling on his bum! I don’t want him to fall.” 

Jude had a sad look on his face. From the moment Theodore, or Teddy like everybody called him, was born, Jude was very protective of him and his mother. Harry couldn’t get close to YN without Jude’s consent (that was based on asking his mum if she wanted him to let his dad through). But with days and weeks passing by, Jude learned that no one close to him wanted to harm his brother or mother. It didn’t change how his protectiveness stayed with him one year in the future though.

“Oh, I understand, Judie.” Harry kneeled in front of his children, being eye-to-eye with Jude. “But, Teddy is learning how to walk. You need to let him learn so he can run around the garden with you.” 

“But when you run you can fall and, and hurt your knee, or hands, or, or head. I did! Remember when I, when I fall long long time ago? I have an owie now.”

Judie forgot that he was holding Teddy and wanted to show his father the scar that formed on his left knee from two years ago. It was a bad fall that stopped Harry’s heart when he witnessed it. 

“Be careful,” Harry said, putting his hands around Teddy to hold him up.

“Oopsie. I’m sorry, little brother,” Judie whispered. “Can I kiss your cheek?”

“I think that Teddy would really love it if you did,” Harry encouraged, turning Teddy towards Jude. 

“But he didn’t say yes. You daddy and mummy say people have to wait for a, what was it called, daddy?”

“A green light.”

“Yes! Green light! And Teddy don’t have one.”

“I’m very happy that you remembered our conversation, Judie. Good job!” Harry smiled, feeling proud of his son. “We also talked about the fact that Teddy can’t speak yet.”

“He can! You are so silly, daddy!”

“Am I?” Harry laughed, tickling Judie with the right arm, the left one leaving secure around Teddy.

“Stop, daddy! Tickles, tickles!” Judie broke into laughter. “Teddy say ‘mama’!” 

Judie sat in front of his younger brother, unruly locks covering his eyes. He waited patiently for Theodore to stop picking on his father’s beard. Harry grasped gently Teddy’s hand that was yanking his facial hair, kissing it a few times. 

“Say mama, little guy.”

Thedore’s eyes lit up at the name of his favourite person. From the moment he was born, he was just like a magnet, wanting to be as close as possible to his mum. When he started crawling, he’d followed her everywhere. And his first word was ‘dada’, ironically. The last few days, when YN wasn’t at home, were hard on the two boys, but Harry was the best father they could have asked for. 

“Mama!” 

“Yay!” Jude stood up and started jumping up and down. He did his ‘happy dance’, wiggling his body from left to right, making Teddy clap his hands in amusement. 

“Do you want to call mama, boys?”

The scream coming from Jude’s throat was enough confirmation. He sprinted to the couch, sitting comfortably between two pillows - like always when they were calling YN. 

“Daddy, daddy! Can I hold Taddy?”

“Yes, you can. But remember to be very gentle and secure, yeah?”

“Yes!” 

Teddy was sitten in his older brother’s arms, looking up at him and giving him his sweet, toothy smile. Harry at the same moment was trying to FaceTime YN on his phone. 

“Hello?” 

“Mama! Hi!” Judie greeted his mum, smiling from ear to ear. 

“Hello, my big boy! And hello, you little guy,” YN said to her kids. “How are you guys?”

“Mama, mama I safe Judie today!”

“Oh, did you? What happened?”

“He fall on his bum!”

“Did he? Was he trying to get up from the ground?”

“Yes! How do you know?” Jude asked with big eyes, in shock.

“Teddy is learning how to walk, baby. He wants to be able to walk and run and play with you.”

“That’s what dad said. You are really smart, daddy.”

“Oh, thank you, Judie.” Harry smiled at his son, kissing his head. “Am I smart because I said what mum did?”

“Yes! She is super smart. But I love you both. Super much.” 

Judie was nodding his head, agreeing with himself that his parents were really the best. 

“We love you too, Judie.” 

Then the comfortable silence took over their call. Judie played with Teddy’s fingers when he tried to bite them and get relief from his achy gums. Harry was admiring his wife, counting hours till she would be back home with him and their kids. 

“I miss you, mummy.” Jude said sadly, tears in his eyes. 

Harry immediately scooted over to him and embraced him tightly. 

“Judie, I miss you everyday, every hour and minute. I need to stay with granny for a little more time and then I am coming back to you.”

“Tomorrow?”

“No, baby. Not tomorrow, but soon. I will call daddy when. Okay?”

“It’s taking so long,” Judie complained. “Can you hurry up?”

“I’ll try. But hey, did you finish that cosmo project granda bought you?”

Jude’s eyes widened. He forgot. 

“Daddy, hold Teddy. I need to work!” 

And just like that Jude was off the living room and on his way to the bedroom when the lay-out of the solar system was waiting for him to finish. Harry placed his youngest in his arms and took the phone in his hand. 

“Hi, love.”

“Hi, baby. How are you holding up?”

“Great. Mum was here today to help me meal-prep for the week. We cleaned all over the house while Jude and Teddy were having their naps. Ate dinner and soon is the time for the baths and making them go to sleep.” 

“You’re doing great, Harry.” 

Harry smiled at the screen, winking at YN. “I miss you.”

“I miss you, too. I should be back in four days and then I am all yours.”

“I like the sound of that.”

[marypaol]

From the Start

Draco x Fem!Reader

Summary: Reader stop Draco from walking over to his parents when they call him over after the Battle of Hogwarts.

Warnings: Death Eaters, mention of past deaths, aftermath of war, You-Know-Who, strict parents, I think that’s all? :)

Note: I felt like all more stories are short, so I wote a little long one. I’m so proud of this one I how you guys like it!

Genre: Angst with happy ending :)

Masterlist

___

Thinking back on her years attending Hogwarts, there wasn’t a time when her heart wouldn’t be considered as something served to Draco Malfoy on a silver platter. Thinking about it now, she would give it to him in a heartbeat if that was what it took to make his heart beat better.

And she could tell when his was staggering, fighting to beat like everyone else’s, the wanting gaze landing on anyone with a regular blood bumper in their chest. If only his heart did that; cycled blood throughout his body like a never ending circle of life, giving him the liquid he needed to say alive, yet if he lost too much of it he would fade away. But to his misfortune his didn’t work that way. In fact, it seemed to be working for the purpose of suffocating him instead of helping him, flooding his lungs and wrapping invisible hands around his throat, daring him to try to at least take a breath.

So yes, she noticed every bit. Every single longing glance and curious looks of people laughing away, living their lives to the fullest while his was limited. Since when couldn’t he be free? Since when was it decided? Was it from the moment he entered the world, not even knowing his name or what his life was going to end up like? Or was it the second the envelope of acceptance into this magic school touched his finger tips, telling him the supplies he’d need to go to a place that would change his life forever as a Malfoy?

She wouldn’t know the answer, he wouldn’t know, nor would even his parents know even though they were the ones to decide. It didn’t affect the decision made in the first place, since he never did nor ever will have a say.

Years of Hogwarts go by, each one having a special memory that beholds their childhood in a tight grip. Not only did they have their ups and downs, but also magical knowledge that will forever be with them as guidance into their later years of life. Sadly those memories and countless lessons had to eventually come to an end, ending all the happiness that once was, fading into something that they wouldn’t ever be able to experience again but only remember.

But that didn’t mean that they didn’t have something big and effective before they left for good, leaving their magic school full of memories behind. Which led to the screams of loved ones, calling out to others and hopelessly waiting for a reply that will never come. The beautiful castle that once stood was no longer, just piles of rubble as if their childhoods were nothing. The past couldn’t be changed, not when curses were flying left and right and green light blaring everywhere imaginable. Nothing could erase the scars of people who survived, fighting for what’s right and used what they learned to the best of their ability. Nothing could change the fact that evil is about to win over good.

“Son, come.”

The whisper was soft yet demanding in the silence of the courtyard. It broke the ever lasting quiet, blasting through every ear as if they had to go through the peer pressure too.

Draco’s face was sad and lonesome, a deep frown on his lips that once held a snarl. Her empathy towards the boy was great, wanting nothing more than to stop him from going to the other side that represented darkness and evil. He wasn’t good enough for them, they didn’t deserve him. He was just a boy, just a kid that was still discovering the world day by day. His life shouldn’t have been changed this way, changed so greatly much so that his viewpoint on life’s purpose was forever impacted.

It was only then did his dear mother join in with the begging, desperately asking him to join the Dark Lord’s side.

“Draco, come here.”

Everyone was staring at him, the intense stares coming from every angle. His back, his head, the side of his face; he could feel them everywhere. The heat from their gazes set his chest on fire, craving for the normality of his peers. Why did their looks affect him so much? Why did he care? Most importantly, why was he so aware about his peers’ reaction to even notice? Shouldn’t he be focused on his parents, begging him to go to them and join their evil doings?

The Dark Lord spoke this time, breaking Draco out of the endless questions running in his mind, the evil-doer waving his hands that looked like claws at the boy as a way to call him over.

Draco looked at the students around him, silently asking them to stop staring but sadly they didn’t get the massage, their eyes still yet fixed on the side of his face for his reaction.

The Malfoy saw no point in staying with the people around him; like anyone enjoyed his presence at the school anyway. If he left they wouldn’t be surprised at his behavior, since his parents are Death Eaters mine as well make their son one too.

But that they didn’t know was that he didn’t want to, he didn’t want to join them in whatever hurtful and evil actions they were doing. They ruined his school, his home away from home (even though he would never admit it.)

Just thinking back on Bellartrix waving her wand with a wide satisfactory smile on her face, watching in admiration as the once was Great Hall destroyed into pieces. It was the place where Potter refused to shake his hand, where the leather hat barely touched his hair strands before shouting the house he destined to be in. Where the golden plates served the first feast of his Hogwarts years, one to remember for a lifetime.

But of course it was all gone, and for what. Just so the Dark side could carelessly kill students? If their purpose of arriving was to do so, why destroy the one place he called his safe haven?

Did they just want to make the situation worse? Like salt to the wound?

He couldn’t know, nor would he know. He would be once again left with the questions of his own left unanswered, still lingering in his mind for years to come. He could see it now, him as an old man staring longingly into the flames of his fireplace, empty tea cup in hand while the wonderings cycled in his brain once again, curiosity flooding his scenes, longing for the answers.

In fact, thinking about it now, he wanted that. He wanted to grow up and have a fireplace to star into at night. He wanted maybe a beautiful wife in the kitchen, humming to herself as she cleaned dishes from the previous home cooked meal they ate together. He longed for it, and the longer he stood there, staring at the ground, he only wanted it more.

But his desires weren’t going to be preformed, for the peer pressure in the back of his mind was too much, too much so that it covered his mind with persuasion, almost forcing him to follow his parents’ will. His foot stepped out, with great pain and a heavy heart he made his way to his parents, ready to do their evil doings unwillingly.

But lo and behold a soft grip stopped him, light against his fingertips as the touch silently begged him to stay. He stiffened, straightening his slumped shoulders as he dared to face the person who reset his thought process, his brain already second thinking the decision he previously made.

It was her, the girl that sat in the back of the class, softly mumbling answers that were always correct but she was too shy to actually say aloud. It was her, the one who would steal glances at him when she thought he wasn’t looking. It was her, the one who would whisper the things she was doing softly on the test so he could follow along, since she silently knew he wasn’t studying because of what he was going through. It was her, the one who was mentally there from the start.

Draco stared into the eyes of the girl who was dealing with his hard burdens, his hardships, and the rough edges of his life. She was sandpaper and he was the splintered wood, her sanding him down as she comforted him silently in the breeze. He found himself stepping back, watching as his father’s face twisted in disappointment, a snarl forming on his lips. Draco ignored it for the better, his fingers being held by his boat the kept him above the surface, preventing him from drowning.

At the end of those long years he did have that wife, watching her now as she softly swayed her hips to the quiet music playing, lips forming in a comforting smile he always liked to see as she cleaned a stain on a pan, her sleeves rolled up to her elbows. He then turned back taking a sip of his peppermint tea. His eyes found the fireplace, staring into the flames of his wants, watching as a piece of paper holding his father’s writing burned into ashes, the words of disapproval and disbelief fading into nothingness.

:D

[coffeeandbatboys]

Battle Scars (Wolffe x Reader)

Summary: Wolffe comes home to you, but when you learn about his injury, he’s afraid you’ll leave.

Warnings: mention of Ventress and the injury, angst angst angst. Hurt/comfort. Also Plo Koon calls reader little one, but in a father in law kind of way.

A/N these keep getting shorter and shorter.

You waited off to the side of the hangar, making your presence known but not too obvious. Master Plo Koon crossed it and stood before you. One of the few Jedi who cared about the Clone’s personal lives, he allowed the relationship between you and Wolffe to thrive in the shadows.

“He had an…incident. Physically, he will be alright. But he is emotionally unwell.”

Your breath hitched as you saw Wolffe coming out of the ship. Half of his face was bandaged, while the other was twisted in pain.

“Thank you, General, for taking care of him.”

“He is a good man, little one. He deserves it.”

As the general walked away, you noticed that Wolffe had not come any closer, staying on the other side of the hangar. So you made a move, crossing towards him.

“Hello, Cyare.” He sighed, turning the bandaged side of his face away from you.

You reached up to caress his jaw “Oh, Wolffe. What happened?”

A slight shake of his head told you something serious had happened. So you lead him away to the barracks, hoping that maybe he’d be more comfortable speaking in private.

“Wolffe you need to talk to me. I’ve been waiting all this time to see you.”

He mumbled something incoherent. You hummed in question.

“I’m surprised you even want to see me.”

Your heart sank. Did he think you wouldn’t want him because he was injured? You carefully placed your hand on the bandages.

“Is this what this is all about?”

He nodded. You leaned forward and placed a feather light kiss to the medical cloth. You were ready to pull back when his arms locked around your waist and he held you like he’d never see you again.

“I love you Cyar’ika. I can’t…I can’t loose you.”

You chuckled a little bit. “I signed up for your bullshit, Wolffe. You’re stuck with me.”

“Promise?” He mumbled into your shoulder.

“I promise, love. Now want to tell me what happened?”

“Ventress. She…cut through my helmet.”

You thought for a moment.

“That’s something to be proud of. Not being killed by a Sith.”

He laughed dryly, holding you a little tighter.

“Yeah. I suppose so.”

[rosenbergamot]

“Gri, how do you feel about Mumbo?” Scar asks one day as they’re cuddling against one another.

Scar’s legs have been hurting him more than usual, so Grian is taking it upon himself to massage them. He’s on the calves right now, planning very stealthily and sneakily to move up from calf to thigh to somewhere much less PG than this. He stops his massaging, fixes Scar with a look. 

“Why do you ask?” 

His grin is bright. “Oh, well… I was just thinking about him. He’s pretty cute, isn’t he?”

He could tell from his tone where this was going to go. The way his face starts to warm up is indicative of his answer, but he knows that Scar likes it when he actually tells him things even if he can always understand otherwise. “Well… of course he is. He’s Mumbo.” 

Scar leans in closer, urging him on with a nod. “Mhm? And?”

“And-- and I really like Mumbo, Scar. You know this.” 

“I do, I do!” He waves his hand. “But how much do you like Mumbo?” 

This makes him continue his massaging, if only to get away from those knowing eyes. Why now of all times does he bring this up? “I like him a lot, Scar.”

He bats his pretty eyes at him, “as much as me, Grian?” 

Deciding not to give that a response, he continues to talk. “I mean, I’ve known him for a long time, and I’ve always felt differently towards him. He’s… special to me. I can’t imagine my life without him. Can you imagine me without Mumbo? It’s sacrilegious, Scar! I wouldn’t survive! Heck, he wouldn’t survive!”

“Gri…” Scar’s voice is soft and syrupy. He reaches up to card a hand through his hair. That forces his eyes away from his legs, up to his face, and the way he smiles makes him melt. He leans into the touch. “Say, I like Mumbo a lot too. A lot a lot.” He wiggles his eyebrows. “How about we break the question to him?”

His mouth falls open. “You like him too?”

“Grian! Have you seen the way I look at him?” 

Oh. Now that he’s thinking about it, he absolutely has. Scar looks at Mumbo with a certain kind of reverence, a shine in his eyes, a longing that he hasn’t seen since the desert, since the two of them would lay centimetres apart underneath the desert moon. For having experienced that firsthand, he sure did forget what it looked like.

Oh, plus he also looks like he wants to devour Mumbo sometimes, a fact which he had attributed to him being a vex rather then him being insanely attracted to him. God. How much has he been missing?

“Huh.” And just like that, a smile starts to form on his face. “Let’s do it, then!” 

Scar cheers and pumps his fist, the movement jostling their comfortable position. He leans over, pressing a kiss to his cheek, warm and solid and sweet. “I didn’t think you were ever going to go for him! So proud of you, G.” 

He moves to kiss him again and Grian stops him with a hand to his chest. Scar pouts. He tries to put on as serious a face as he can muster. It doesn't really work. “Yeah, yeah, that’s all well and good, but how about we talk about you and Cub now?” 

Scar straightens up immediately, face screwing into something that Grian can only describe as dread. He checks his empty wrist, makes an astonished face. “Oh, goodness, would you look at that! I’m late for… for a meeting!” He rolls off of Grian, falls to the ground with a solid thunk. “And my legs feel so much better, Gri! It’s like magic. You’re so good at massaging them and I love you so much and I can't wait to have Mumbo be with us and-- goodbye have a good time!” 

He’s out the door before Grian can say anything to him.

That’s okay. He’ll get him next time. 

[hetacon]

So you guys know how the most recent thing I posted was a Sidlink fic? That was because I actually got into BOTW about a year ago (it’s been one of the fandoms that kind of just simmers in the back of my brain at all times), and that was pretty much my only knowledge of Legend of Zelda, just that one game…

Oops, now it’s all of them!!

Somehow I wound up getting invested in Linked Universe because of a Sidlink fic and now it’s the only thing on my brain as of the past month and a half! Unsurprisingly given how I got into it in the first place, Wild is my favorite, but I must say that they’ve all weaseled their way into my heart, particularly Twilight and Legend (and outside of the chain, Ravio as well)! The LOZ mania has gotten so intense that I actually bought and am playing through A Link Between Worlds right now and am legit making a Ravio cosplay, help-

All of the poses I drew here were from @mellon-soup’s wonderful references, I love using them for inspiration when I’m not quite sure what to draw, and when I saw the first one, I just knew I had to draw Legend and Ravio!

I’ll put a few of my thoughts on the drawings under the cut if anyone’s interested in hearing about them

1) I love Ravioli so much, their dynamic brings me much joy. I’m very proud of how Legend’s expression turned out

2) I’m absolutely obsessed with the fairy Hyrule headcanon, there are so many cute pieces of art people have drawn of him! I’m surprised I managed to get so much detail on his face given how tiny he is. Also Sky is a total sweetheart and the thought of him protecting Hyrule from the rain was simply too adorable for me not to draw the two of them!

3) I am very emotional over Twilight and Wild’s sibling dynamic! The idea of Twi getting caught sneaking food while Wild’s cooking dinner was very funny to me and so I drew it! I really like all of the little details in this drawing, Wild’s scars are probably my favorite detail. And though I’ve never drawn a wolf before, I think I did pretty good! Originally I was just going to draw Twi taking a small piece of meat or something but then I thought “Nah, it’s gonna be an entire fish!” I headcanon that whenever he’s in wolf form, his metabolism increases and so he needs to eat more food to maintain his energy. Since he mainly transforms to fight, track, or comfort Wild, he’s earned an entire fish! Also it’s important to me that you know that the fish is specifically a staminoka bass :))

4) If you find the pose reference I used for Wind, you probably will notice that I actually flipped it so that he was holding the Wind Waker in his left hand. As a leftie myself, I really love it when characters I love are also left-handed!

Also on the topic of hands in general, can I just say how proud I am of all the hands in these 4 drawings??? They’re so good, we love good hand days

[polarisbibliotheque]

Can You Hear The Rumble? - Vergil x Reader

Music Inspired Fics (Devil May Music) - Cirice, by Ghost

Pairing: Vergil x Reader

Summary: Everyone knew the kind of demon a hunter should be wary about is the one who plays with their victim's minds. You and Vergil were very proud on the outside - but how would it be when having to save each other on the inside for the first time?

TRIGGER WARNING: A lot of blood, cuts, bruises, scars and suffering on both Vergil and the reader's sides. The reader also struggles with perfection and self-loathing - in a "I'm never going to be a good person" kind of way, because I needed to get more intimate on the reader's part as well - and there are scenes with the reader covered in cuts and bleeding, though not self-imposed, it could be read like that. Those scenes are the reader's and Vergil's internal images of themselves. Reader and Vergil meet each other on their imperfections and the darkest parts of their souls, so BE WARNED. This might not be everyone's cup of tea and there are lots of potential triggers.

Author's Note: @tokkis-shelf asked me if Vergil's part of the Halloween special was inspired by Cirice, and here we are now. It is what kickstarted the song-fic requests! As with a lot of people, I think, Cirice is pretty personal to me.

In the video, it was so comforting to me seeing the black sheep being represented hahahaha and I guess that's why people love it so much. The part where they hold hands? I died, I'd never let go, I cry my soul out upon watching. (I did a very similar drawing to that scene when I was in school around 15 years ago, so it drop-kicked me out of my body xD)

Now, when writing this, I kept in mind that this song has a double meaning and can be quite comforting and quite manipulative at the same time - hence why I use the "can't you see that you're lost without me?" in two different situations, 'cause I think Cirice can be interpreted in so many ways and each person takes what they need from this song. I hope you guys like it!!

Plus, the song the reader and Dante sing at the end is The Power of Love, by Huey Lewis and The News

Cirice, by Ghost

“Can’t you see that you’re lost…?”

It happened every time Vergil walked in the darkness.

That voice in the back of his head, silently taunting him, the hiss of a quiet viper in the hopes of taking him back to the darkest parts of his soul. Quiet, lurking, whispering… Mundus always there, somewhere in the folds of his consciousness, guiding him back into the void – luring Vergil back into his shackles.

“Can’t you see that you’re lost without me?”

As if Vergil couldn’t belong anywhere else, as if his place was in Hell. After all he had been through, after all the sins he perpetrated, he believed wholeheartedly there was no hope for him at all – only a fool’s hope; only a glimmer of a wish he wasn’t as tainted as he was… A desire to not be such a monster as he was.

Pacing quietly through the empty cathedral, Vergil had already learned not to give in to those thoughts – to keep them at bay, as only a whisper in the darkness, of trickster voices that would always remind him of how inhuman he was.

It was times like this Vergil longed for the faint glimmer of the moon, or the warm ghostly light of a candle. It was easy to get lost in the dark, but a single ray of light could help through the direst of situations. That night, though, it seemed like the moon had fallen asleep behind the curtains of the clouds – Selene hiding her tears for her earthly lover in his eternal sleep.

None of you knew what that night entailed – you weren’t even certain what you were dealing with. That was the reason why Lady strutted in the Devil May Cry, not too fond of taking a job she didn’t know if it was up to her abilities.

“Well, looks like I have a new one for you to pay your debt, big guy!” Her singsong voice interrupted the ambience of the jukebox; Lady entering the shop with Kalina Ann and all.

“Eh, I’m never gonna be free of my debt, Lady, let’s be honest.” Dante sighed, putting his feet down and throwing his magazine across the table, shooting her a serious glare. “But things have been borin’ lately, so one of your odd jobs’ not gonna hurt. Whaddya have for me?”

“You talk as if I never help you enough to maintain this place.” She lifted one eyebrow, approaching the big desk at the middle of the shop.

“Gotta give the woman credit, Dante. Last month’s bills were on her.” You shrugged as you had finally come out of your shower, happy to see Lady around, still drying your hair with the towel as you went down the stairs.

“See? Someone who has a bit of common sense.” Her smile was nothing short of devilish as she gestured towards you.

“You know where you are, Lady. ‘Common sense’ isn’t much of a thing in this household.” You greeted her by quickly blowing her a kiss while passing by, making your way towards the couch where Vergil was quietly reading.

“Ey, you’re hurtin’ my feelings like that.” Dante put one of his hands over his heart, laughing alongside you as you kept on your way. “But fine. I’ll give ya that, Lady. So, what’s up? What job do you wanna throw at me this time?”

“I am not throwing it at you.” And there it was: you could always see when Dante stroke a nerve when Lady got defensive and with that fiery stare on her multicolored eyes. “If you wanna do it, great, if you don’t, I can deal with it myself just fine. I’m here to be a good friend since you can barely afford all that pizza you keep stuffing yourself with!”

As you sat by Vergil’s side, you both exchanged a telling glare. Just like you, Vergil was used to observing people. Granted, he didn’t know Lady as much as Dante or even you, but he did know her since he was very young. That fiery, easy-to-anger personality had been there since they first met at the Temen-ni-gru – and Vergil argued it was one of Lady’s traits that would never change.

Something he was quite pleased with, if he had to be honest with himself. It was a good trait for a human demon hunter like her. Dante always praised human’s hearts and particularly their love and empathy – Vergil praised their burning anger that made them unconquerable in the direst of circumstances.

“Jeez, alright, alright, don’t shoot me!” Dante raised his hands as if he was at gunpoint, making you wheeze quietly. Vergil side-eyed you for a while – half judging, half holding his own laugh. “It’s not like I have much of a choice, do I?”

“Humpf.” Lady rolled her eyes and took a slice of pizza from the box resting on the desk, pointing at Dante with it right after. “You know I wouldn’t bring you something if it wasn’t important.”

“Actually, you would.” With those words, Dante rested his arms crossed on the table – all the while, you and Vergil watched it all as if it was a show. Who needed a TV when you had those two? “But you’re bein’ too dodgy ‘bout it, babe. What’s goin’ on?”

“I got a call from a priest in a city nearby.” Lady’s answer was uncharacteristically quiet, followed by a bite from the pizza while she seemed pensive and in any hurry to chew it. “I’ve done some jobs there, know the guy, he’s nice. All the times he called me, it was always a quick, good-paying job. He said some weird things have been happening at the cathedral for the last couple of weeks.”

“Not to sound mean, but there’s always somethin’ strange happenin’ at churches.” Dante’s eyes carried a bit of skepticism: ‘weird things’ didn’t always entail a job for the Devil May Cry – and it usually ended with all of you hunting a rogue raccoon or something.

“I know. But this guy, he doesn’t get scared easy, ok? He’s one of those types of priests who’ll try to shoot down a couple of demons with a shotgun and, if that doesn’t work, he gives me a call.” Those words, though, made you and the Spardas raise your eyebrows. Indeed, it was a rare type of priest, but a good one to keep as acquaintance. “He said the cathedral is increasingly quiet, even from noises outside, with occasional distant noises that are not done by any of those who live there. After it all started, the other priests reported having weird nightmares, of being chased by something in the dark, inside the cathedral – this thing whispering things they can’t understand. Alright if it happened to one or two, but soon all of them started waking up in the middle of the night with similar nightmares – and, catch this, the higher ups of the clergy didn’t tell the common priests about it, but they all reported the very same dream.” Those words caught everyone’s attention. Vergil finally closed his book and leaned forward, paying attention to Lady’s retelling of the priest’s misfortunes. “The priest has been trying to figure out what’s going on, but some old books appear to go missing from the library, only to re-appear as if nothing has happened. Some books are missing pages, something that never happened before. He also said the inside of the cathedral has been getting darker and darker as the weeks go by. As if something is approaching – his words, not mine.”

Vergil immediately furrowed his brows and seemed to turn into an ice sculpture right by your side. You risked a glance, finding him with his usual dark aura – pensive, somber and quiet; hunter’s eyes showing themselves in a matter of seconds.

“Rare are the creatures in Hell in search for knowledge…” He muttered loud enough for his brother and Lady to turn their attention to him. “But those who do, are usually among the worst. Haunting noises, torn books, nightmares, dead silence and total darkness…”

“What? You think those Hell Piranhas came out of their pit?” Dante’s question had a bit of fun in the words, but his eyes were serious and he didn’t allow his lips to smile.

“Could be. Could also be a demon trying to mimic them to hide something else.”

“Hell Piranhas?” You and Lady didn’t need a cue to ask at the very same time. Neither of you had ever heard of that – and both of you had heard of a lot.

“This is not their name, but it is how Dante calls them since we were kids.” Vergil almost sighed in response.

“How we both called ‘em. Mister smart-pants over here isn’t that much better than lil’ ol’ me.” Dante winked at both of you, making you giggle quietly in return. “They’re kinda like illusion demons, but they like stayin’ in the darkness and gatherin’ knowledge. Usually work for someone bigger, though.”

“And even if they don’t, they swallow up all their knowledge and that is dangerous in itself. Afterwards, they feed from the victims they have been toying for so long.” Vergil continued Dante’s thought, ignoring his brother’s previous words. The more you didn’t think about what Dante had said about him, the better – for Vergil couldn’t deny it. “They hunt in packs, and the more victims, the more powerful they become. Some call them the Pit Deceivers, others call them the Lie Weavers…”

“You call them Hell Piranhas.” You concluded bluntly, making Vergil stare at the horizon with emptiness in his eyes – he could say all he wanted, flex all his demonic knowledge, you heard the Piranhas and now you’d never forget it.

“I never heard of them.” Lady had her eyebrows furrowed, searching her memory for some story like that.

“They either don’t leave the pit that much or not many humans survive to tell the story. That’s why.” Dante pointed at a great, old book Vergil had left on one of the tables a long time ago and now it was its official resting place. “You can find it only in the likes of the Codex Daemonica.”

“So either we have them around, or it’s something else. Something bigger. Right?” As you asked, Vergil only agreed with his head as the attentions turned to you. “Or something mimicking the Piranhas.” And Vergil had to sigh at your addition. He would never have peace again. “The mimic or the master, what kind of demon would the Piranhas answer to? If they are that obscure, I take it their existence is more of a niche knowledge in Hell rather than a common information.”

“On that, you are correct…” Vergil murmured in response, falling back into his pensive demeanor. You knew he would be lost for a while.

“See? Good thing I brought this for you, then.” Lady waved dismissively at Dante, but you could sense a little edge in her playful voice. Dealing with big things was fine, same as dealing with cruel demons and the ones that played the big-scary-one persona. Unknown demons were another kind of monster – one only Dante and Vergil used to deal with. “Plus, they always pay well.”

“Eh, I won’t be seein’ much of that money, if I know ya well.” Dante scoffed, having a small smile hidden in the corner of his lips; his tone and demeanor, though, were quite somber and you knew the red devil was taking it seriously.

“If you don’t mind, Dante, I would like to take over this one.” Vergil finally declared while getting up from the couch. “I know some of the hellish creatures who might make use of the Weavers or mimic them.”

“Fine for me, I’m needin’ some time to rest.” Dante sighed, but looked right back at you while Vergil rested his book on the big Devil May Cry desk. “But I’m gonna feel a lot better with someone around to keep an eye on ‘im, pretty thing.”

“Well, I didn’t intend on letting you guys deal with this all by yourselves anyway.” You got up from the couch, immediately receiving a glare from Vergil. “I’m going, blue devil, whether you want it or not. I want to get acquainted with these Piranhas.”

Vergil only closed his eyes, letting out the longest and most regretful sigh you ever heard in your life.

And there you were – although Vergil lost track of you quite a while ago. He knew the stirrings rippling through his heart when you were in danger; and being the fierce human you were, Vergil wasn’t worried about having you search for the demons in the cathedral.

There was, though, a slight uneasiness. That voice echoing in the darkest parts of his soul, it always came as an omen – causing nothing but destruction, inside or outside of himself. Vergil never could really say which one would be, but both were devastating.

“Veeeeergil…”

His steps came to a dry halt in the middle of the cathedral. The night outside the colorful stained-glass windows was pitch black, robbing the colors of their warmth and light – the fire on the candles, long dead in that cold night. The whisper that crept to his ears, like stark chalk on a chalkboard, dragged itself through the marble floor and took a hold of his soul in its clutches.

It was a different kind of sound – different from the ones inside himself, calling him to the darkness. It was from the outside… The Lie Weavers. Slowly coming up, finding him as their next victim. He was close to one of the places they were certainly lurking in the shadows, patiently waiting for someone they could consume.

Vergil never feared the darkness. Tightening his grip around Yamato, his steps resumed his way, approaching the places in the cathedral the faint light of the night could barely touch. Those demons should have known their end was near, and he was the harbinger of their demise – he expected all kinds of trickery, of resistance, of fight from them.

He did not expect to hear a familiar voice, filled with uncertainty.

“Vergil…?”

Halting his steps once more, this time his silvery eyes lost their predatorial gaze as his heart jumped in his chest – even if for a slight second.

“Mother?”

His answer was but a whisper before he was swallowed by darkness.

*

When engaging with illusion demons, one should be aware of not falling into their element: when engulfed by it, those demons were more powerful than expected, able to subdue even the strongest of foes. Breaking from their control required mental and emotional discipline rather than brute force.

It was a slight second – a foolish slip from his human soul, disarmed by the trickery of Eva’s voice – and Vergil was surrounded by a sea of darkness and turmoil. His heart stirred with anger towards himself for being such a child, a vulnerable stupid child, tricked by a puppet of something his heart missed so much.

Eva was long dead. There was no demon able to bring her back. And he would never see her again. All that logic was tossed aside in a spark of a second by his stupid human heart, trembling upon hearing her speak his name again. Granted, Vergil only heard his mother in his dreams, barely remembering how her voice sounded in reality, and this time he heard outside himself – but he should have seen it coming. Illusion demons, trickster demons, cruel demons… They all relied on the barely closed scars inside his damned human soul.

Vergil could always count on them to re-open those wounds, making him bleed as much as he did on the floor of that cursed cemetery so many years ago – and he was a fool to fall for it after he had been through so much.

“Vergil… Can you hear me…?”

“I can, you damned deceiver. You can stop these theatrics – mimicking my dead mother will not affect me.” His voice cut through the dark like the sharpest of ice, his predatorial gaze back into his silver eyes.

“I… Don’t understand you, son. I cannot find you.” Her voice had a tinge of sorrow and desperation – but it was exactly like Eva’s voice. Vergil remembered it with a tinge of gold, probably a result of the haze of nostalgia, but today it was grounded and melancholic – perhaps, that was how Eva had always sounded… He just didn’t remember it. “I can’t find you. You aren’t home.”

“I haven’t been home for a long while.” Vergil didn’t even try to hide the growl that raised from his chest as he argued with that creature. He was used to having a puppet of his mother parading in front of him to hurt his human soul even more, but that was already getting on his nerves. Taunting him about the fact his mother ran to find him that fateful night wasn’t part of the usual games those filthy demons played – and to say they were honing his wrath was an understatement. “And I will never be back.”

“I… I cannot see you, Vergil. Where are you…? Why…?” He could hear the weeping in her voice, faint sobbing while the desperation made her words tremble. Vergil raised his head in the darkness, holding his own heart not to quiver: she wasn’t real and it was all a gimmick to affect him. He would not be affected. He was stronger than that. “Why couldn’t I save you? Those demons they… They hurt you, didn’t they? Oh, my child! My son! They hurt you and I could do nothing! I couldn’t be your mother!”

“Enough with this, filthy, hellish creature!” His voice finally exploded from his chest, roaring in the dark and echoing through the void, finding only silence. “You have no right to desecrate my mother’s memory like this! Shut your putrid mouth and stop with your rancid lies!”

The glint of the Yamato being unsheathed made the darkness recoil for a split second, only to envelop the Dark Slayer once more. His grip was tight, his eyes fiercely looking for his first opponent to direct a very well-placed judgement cut that could end all those creatures with just one swing of his hand. Vergil had enough and all the patience he carried in his being wouldn’t be enough to stop him from overkilling those demons – he just had to know where to direct his wrath.

“Don’t say those words, Vergil… You are not… Not like this.” Her voice still trembled, and his hand was still certain around Yamato. Vergil knew quite well at that state he was a weapon of mass destruction, he just had to find his opponent. His soul was screaming for him to do that, to put a stop to all that mockery. “You are good… You are my son.”

Vergil would have sliced that demon into a thousand million pieces without flinching, even if it took the form of his mother – but his eyes widened as a soft, warm hand touched his face. In all those years being taunted by demons, being tricked and mocked, seeing so many puppets of Eva, Sparda and Dante, none of them had touched him… And none of them genuinely felt like them.

It had been so many lost years he hadn’t felt his mother’s touch – last time, she could cup his entire face, thumb lovingly caressing his innocent eyebrows, but now her thumb could only reach his cheekbones. Nevertheless, it felt like her: not like a golden, nostalgic lost memory of how she felt, but exactly like Eva’s hands, even with the slight roughness of her continuous gardening.

“It took me so long to find you… I am so sorry.”

“You are not my mother.”

“Don’t say that.” Her answer was a sorrowful whisper, her thumb now carefully caressing his sharp cheekbone. Vergil closed his eyes, unable to move, convincing himself all of that wasn’t real and not allowing his heart to sway – forcing his arms to remain frozen by his side, fighting the urge to embrace her. Reminding himself: his mother was dead, killed while trying to save him, a long time ago, and nothing could bring her back. “Your heart hasn’t hardened as much as not to recognize me. You…” Her voice once more became soft, as if trying to do the same with his soul. “You are not a monster… You are my son, my Vergil.”

With those words, Eva’s hand was finally met with a tear – melting the ice from those silvery eyes.

*

There was an impending storm rumbling inside your chest.

Whenever that turmoil took ahold of your heart, you knew Vergil was in trouble. You had just finished checking your side of the cathedral, finding some things out of the ordinary but no demons, when the waves became aggressive in your chest. Your steps were already taking you to meet him, but you found yourself walking even hastier – the sound, though, eaten by the shadows that seemed to only grow around you.

Neither of you had calm seas of feelings: they usually raged like a maelstrom of emotions you could barely get through without some destruction – be it internal or external. But there was a certain note of melancholy and desperation in your heart at that moment that made you know Vergil was hurting – and that hurting, you knew quite well.

It was almost ironic how you apparently despised each other at the beginning, but after a while you came to understand; that aversion was there because you, in a certain way, were a mirror of each other. You could see in him the traits in your soul you disliked the most, and Vergil did see in you the same thing – those traits, however, were the same ones that brought you together, and made both you and Vergil feel seen and understood for the first time in your lives.

He didn’t judge your sins, as you didn’t judge his. To your eyes, he was never a monster, and to his, you could never be as crooked as you thought you were. You found each other in imperfection and, in that, you managed to talk and feel on the same level – after that, every feeling of admiration, care and love was easy to blossom.

You understood that storm, that thunder rumbling inside your chest at that very moment. You could feel it exactly the way he felt – and you knew Vergil needed help… Even if he would never say so himself.

You couldn’t hear or see him, though. You found yourself exactly at his area of patrol in the cathedral, but there was no clue as where your blue devil had gone – and for him to completely disappear, imposing presence and all, was quite an achievement in itself. The air was stiff, heavy as if the windows had never been opened, eating up any sound from the inside and the outside. The darkness was heavier than the one you had previously patrolled, shadows allowing only a few glimpses of the opulent decoration and the path in front of you – although, you couldn’t see more than a few meters beyond your feet.

If you couldn’t trust your sight or your hearing to find him, you could trust your heart: the storm would guide you. Closing your eyes, you allowed your feelings to take over, following with your footsteps in the direction you could hear his soul calling.

Those shadow creatures wouldn’t be able to hide him from you: no matter what happened or where you found yourselves, you would always be able to feel Vergil’s presence and find him in the darkest of hours.

And as the thunder in your chest cracked violently, your feet came to a halt and you opened your eyes.

Right in front of you, there was only darkness. Not like in the shadows that took the cathedral little by little, but pitch-black darkness, that no light could cast aside. To enter it would mean to be completely bare: vulnerable, lost, without guidance, naked – but the screaming in your soul made it very clear Vergil was in there.

Contrary to your lover, you were afraid of the dark. You always preferred to have a little light by your side, for you never knew what could be lurking alongside you, ready to pounce and drag you to certain suffering and death. You protected yourself by being forever vigilant, as you always did – a trait that exhausted you, yes, but luckily, in the last few years, you had Vergil around to keep a light by you when your body started giving out.

For that reason, you would never fear entering the darkness for him.

And with a deep breath, your bold steps took you inside the dark.

*

Your feet were cold, bare, stumbling over a sticky floor. Even if your eyes could see only darkness, you felt the freezing air of that night slicing your skin: you were shirtless and something was hurting… Oozing. The cold wind mixed with a faint warmness that leaked from the open wounds on your skin.

Blood. You were bleeding.

Your arms immediately wrapped around you – those scars, they were showing. They never showed before.

Running your hands quickly over your body, you could feel the warm blood slipping through your fingers; some wounds barely holding themselves closed while others still poured as in the day they were created.

That was the version of yourself you used to fiercely hide. None of those wounds were physical, none of them could be seen… But whenever you looked in the mirror, you saw them there, under your skin, under your soul, quietly resting until you couldn’t hide them anymore.

“You are lost…”

It was always the same voice, of something dark, something inside you that could break your soul if you didn’t shove it back into the darkness like you always did. That was why you were afraid; that was why Vergil always kept a faint glow by your side whenever you couldn’t hold yourself together. The dark was dangerous to you – to both of you.

“You are lost without me…”

“I can survive quite well without you…!” You growled to the darkness, keeping that part of yourself at bay. The part that gave in to the pain, that bathed in the blood and didn’t want to get up… And the part that would bathe and rise in rage, making you survive at great cost to those around you.

You were past that. And you didn’t need that to survive. You didn’t have to survive, you could live.

“Can’t you see that you’re lost…?”

“Vergil!” Your scream was a roar in the dark, looking for the one you plunged into the darkness to find. You wouldn’t give in to the trickery of those Piranhas – and you would get Vergil out of there.

They would learn they shouldn’t fear only the son of Sparda: they should also fear you.

“You think you can find him…?” After the mischievous ethereal voice questioned, you heard a giggle rippling around your feet as you stumbled on the sticky floor to find your lover. “You think you are that good? You think you aren’t a monster?”

You furrowed your brows, doing your best to ignore the voices. You knew it was that part inside of you that always taunted how broken you were, how imperfect your soul was. For the longest time you believed there was nothing good in you, nothing to save you from a life of loneliness, until you crossed paths with Vergil.

He was broken too – and he would never judge the things you did to survive your lethal wounds.

“Vergil! Can you hear me?! I’m here to find you!”

“How chivalrous, how heroic! What are you trying to accomplish?” The giggles pooled around your feet, threatening to drag you inside that pool of viscous darkness. “Trying to prove yourself? You’re never going to be perfect. You’re a black sheep, an outcast, remember? The likes of you aren’t heroes.”

“Oh, I’m no hero…” You growled back, fighting against the things trying to pull you back; fighting against the pain of the freezing cold and warmness of blood. “I’m a fucking fighter. You’re messing with the wrong kind of monster, fucking Hell Piranhas.”

“Piranhas…?” A faint whisper in the dark broke whatever control those things were trying to have over your body, starting at your feet. It was Vergil’s whisper – followed by a louder speaking tone. “Y/n! I can feel you, where are you?!”

“Trying to find you!” You screamed back, immediately dragging your feet towards Vergil. You couldn’t see him, but you could feel where he was – and there was nothing those demons could do against that.

The darkness seemed to shift for a couple of seconds. You couldn’t understand what was happening, but you saw a faint, ghostly pale glow in the dark – almost imperceptible, but your heart knew, you could finally see Vergil.

And, in return, he could see you. Moving his feet, Vergil dragged heavy shackles through the floor, screeching in a horrid, soul scratching sound as he willed his body to move towards you. You could hear him grunting with the effort, another set of chains being dragged as Vergil moved his arms – slowly, but surely, wearing all of his strength to get to you.

You felt the viscous ripples of the floor creeping up your legs, almost on your knees, doing their best to pull you away – back into the darkness, back to the taunting voices, to the doubt, the hurt, the self-loathing.

“Vergil! Let me hear your voice! You’re still there, right?!”

“Yes. I am always here.” His answer came with grunts of effort, barely above the noise of the chains screeching around him.

The darkness shifted again, and his form became even more visible, as yours did to him – followed by a scream that rumbled in his chest, Vergil managed to get even closer. That made something spark inside yourself, that thundering storm breaking in your soul cracking in a scream that broke the insidious tentacles holding you back and making you lunge forward.

Once again, the glow you diffused only to each other seemed to get stronger as the darkness wavered.

“Y/n…” He growled once more, the shackles screaming on the floor as he reached out to you.

“Vergil…!” You reached out in return, barely making out the form of his fingers in the dark.

As you were almost touching each other’s hands, the heavy, muffling darkness faltered once more. You could finally see one another, as you were in that godforsaken place.

Vergil was shirtless, his body covered in wounds – new and old – bleeding profusely. His silvery eyes were red, sunken in deep shadow, surrounded by a deep purple mist on his dry skin. You could see his bones under his pale skin covered in so many lacerations you wouldn’t even know where to start healing him. His knuckles were battered, showing the flesh underneath, as well as his wrists covered by heavy iron shackles – wounds from fighting against them for so long. His hands were still long and elegant, but bony and covered in bruises.

You had never seen Vergil so hurt, so broken, so… Vulnerable.

In return, his eyes took in shock the vision of you: as shirtless as him, as battered and wounded as he was. Even if not locked in the shackles he wore for so long in Hell, you walked barefoot leaving a trail of blood behind you. Those scars, those wounds, those bruises… He knew they were there, but he had never seen those. You looked weak and tired, bloodshot eyes under dry skin, as if you hadn’t slept in ages… And those things you fought so much to conceal, now crystal clear in front of him.

Those were the scars you carried inside yourselves. The wounds you had to fight against every day – that you had to try to heal, even if sometimes it seemed impossible. The things you would never show, but, somehow, you managed to sense it in each other… Now you could see it, clear as a bright night.

And, even if you wouldn’t admit to yourselves, those were the very same breaking thunders that would keep you moving – fiercely fighting, fiercely surviving.

As you took in each other’s internal selves, Vergil’s silvery eyes finally found yours.

A loud thundering noise shook the floor underneath your feet twice, as your hearts rumbled alongside the devastating sound. You lunged forward, holding Vergil’s hand as if your life depended on it. Never breaking your eye contact, Vergil held your hand with the strength you would expect of the legendary Dark Slayer. You made each other stronger, and there was nothing that could come between you now.

His shackles immediately screeched back, pulling Vergil violently away from you. At the same time, you were grabbed by the viscous darkness – your knees, your legs, your abdomen, your arms. It pulled you back with vicious strength, doing its best to drag you away from him – back into the darkness.

“Don’t let me go!” You screamed back, tightening your grip around his bony hand.

“I will never let go!” He growled, doing the same, trying to drag his body forward – failing to notice you willed yourself towards him as he pulled you into his arms. Those silvery eyes never moved away from yours.

“You are lost…! Lost…!”

The voices chanted and screeched around you, doing their best to drag you apart. For a moment, your hand slipped and you let out a desperate scream, hurting your lungs as you were almost pulled back into the void. Vergil’s cry resembled a roar as he willed his body to move and tightened his grip in a way he didn’t hold even Yamato.

He hadn’t held his brother’s hand once. This time he wouldn’t make the same mistake. This time, he would hold you even if that damned the both of you to the darkest pits of Hell.

“Can’t you see…? Can’t you see that…?”

“I am lost…!” You barked back to the voices, still staring into Vergil’s eyes, trying to catch your breath while your lungs stung as if you were inhaling a thousand knives.

As Vergil looked into your eyes, though, he knew exactly what you were going to say – and he could safely say it was the very same thing he struggled to find the words to.

“Without you.” His answer came in a dark tone, ragged from the effort he too made to be able to hold your hand.

The thunder rumbled twice again – the voices shrieked and you suddenly found yourselves being launched into each other’s arms as the forces that bind you broke into a million pieces.

Vergil’s arms wrapped around you, one of his hands holding your head close to his chest, as you wrapped yours around his waist, keeping him as close as you could. His head rested on top of yours, and you kept your eyes closed – washing away the blood above his heart with the tears that streamed down your face.

“Don’t ever hide from me.” Vergil’s voice was uncharacteristically shaky, somber but reassuring. You had never been so vulnerable in front of him – and even upon seeing you like that, his reaction was to take you in his arms, to welcome you. “I’m not afraid of the dark.”

“And I’m not afraid of your darkness.” You tightened your arms around his cold, bony body as you felt tears running through your hair. “I can see beyond your glimmer, and I’m not afraid of what’s in the dark.” Your voice shook as you took a deep breath and Vergil’s arms held you even closer – his body shaking with the tears falling from his eyes. “It’s you. And I’m never afraid of you.”

“Neither am I of you.”

His answer was but a whisper – a whisper enough to break the darkness into a memory to be kept away in the deepest pits of Hell.

I can feel the thunder that’s breaking in your heart I can see through the scars inside you

*

*

*

*

“You killed the Piranhas from Hell with the power of love?”

Vergil wanted to crawl into a hole and disappear. Or die. Or both.

Probably both.

The whole crew was there as you and Vergil never came back from the job as quickly as expected – and when you did, it looked like you hadn’t slept in days.

The priest was more than happy with the result of your work – even though you never discovered why the Weavers decided to come out of hiding nor what they wanted. The congregation was just happy they were gone and the whole reason behind it would be a long-term thing for the Devil May Cry to work on – or to keep an eye on; maybe something bigger was approaching.

You and Vergil didn’t feel like going back to the shop, though. When you were hurt physically, things were very much ok to deal with, but when the wounds were emotional… You needed time for yourselves.

Unlike his brother, Vergil was a little more responsible with his money – and you, a lot more than the two. You managed to find somewhere to spend a few nights… Which involved the both of you talking out everything you felt and saw. It was harrowing at first, something neither of you were versed in and honestly were terrified of, but it eventually brought you even closer together.

So, to say you had defeated the Lie Weavers with the power of love was something that killed Vergil inside.

And you could almost see his internal self, glaring at you with a ‘really, after all of this you say this kind of foolishness’ look in his sad, silvery eyes, as Lady stared at both of you and made the question everyone was thinking.

“Yep. Power of love, it’s a curious thing.” You shrugged, making Vergil physically groan by your side while Dante slapped his table with a huge grin on his face.

“Make a one man weep, make another man sing! Hell yeah, Back To The Future, babe!” He winked back at you as you smiled in response.

“Of all the people you could end up dating, Vergil…” Trish sat on Dante’s desk, crossing her long legs while sporting a devilish smile on her rosy lips. It was interesting how her voice could never really sound like Eva’s. “It had to be someone who references the same songs as your brother.”

“Alas, fate plays many games…” Vergil rolled his eyes, but as they rested on you, there was a vulnerability you saw only once in that pitch black darkness. “But it is kind enough to give us what we need.”

No one ever really understood what he meant, but Dante was the only one who managed to see something inside his brother’s silvery eyes that could only reflect in yours – and that made him genuinely smile.

Indeed, you would never be the romance of a fairy tale book or a romantic comedy – but you could see what lied beyond each other’s scars; taking a glimpse at the worst of each other without fear and finding whatever light was left inside. You could understand – and that was much more than most lovers in the world would ever have.

[spookifyer]

I’m Batty For You

[Remus Lupin x Goth!Reader]

Masterlist

Summary: Reader does Remus makeup

[not set in 70s really, vamps don’t exist in this universe, hints to reader being more feminine, awkward remus, not proof read]

—

Remus has always noticed you, even before you dressed goth, as he realised you were more interesting the other girls. He always liked your taste in books and often read the muggle books you leant him, Frankenstein being his favourite of the few. You were also smart and often helped him and the marauders with their homework and it was you who taught them how to become an animagus, yours was a bat obviously. However, once he saw you on the train back to Hogwarts in your final year he knew for definite he liked you.

He admired your confidence to look different compared your other class mates in your band T-shirts, makeup, fishnets and boots. He used to be ashamed of his scars for making him stand out from the crowd but your style made him realise he should be proud of his uniqueness.

You and Remus were sat next to each other on the sofa enjoying each others company. The record player was on and playing Siouxsie and the Banshees. “No, but how did you actually figure out my condition?” Remus asks curiously.

“Vibe, innit,” you chuckled, “I’ve read and have watched enough shit to know it when I see it.”

“That’s like me saying you’re a vampire because you have the stereotypical look!” Remus explains, also chuckling.

“How do you know I’m not?” You joke, reapplying your black lipstick.

Remus raises an eyebrow, “because they don’t exist?”

“Well actually, I have the theory that the myth of vampires come from witches and wizards,” you smile, “think about! Turning into a bat, blood for dark magic and so on! But you calling me a vampire feels like a big compliment!”

“Yeah but we can go in the sunlight?” Remus shakes in heads.

You smile, “that idea actually came from the Nosferatu film I’ll have you know!”

You both chuckle and sit in silence for a minutes before you look over at him with a mischievous smile. “I know that look. I don’t like that look. That’s the look Sirius gives me when he’s up to no good,” Remus says in a half fake scared voice.

You give him a big over dramatic smile, “let me do your makeup?!”

“What?” He asks, he wasn’t that expecting that, “you wanna do my makeup?”

“Pleaassssseeee?!” You beg and pout your lips. He looked at you and smiled, he couldn’t help but notice how cute your looked.

“Fine,” he replies. He couldn’t say no to you as all he wants to do is make you happy.

Your smile widens, “hurray!!”

Gathering your makeup, you beckoning him to sit closer to you but he hesitates. “Oh c’mon. It’s not like I have a disease! Sit closer to me.” You demand.

He shuffles closer to you, trying to hide his blush. However, his attempt to hide it failed when you held his chin and pulled his face closer to yours as you started applying white foundation to his skin. He was too scared to move as if that would help make his blush less obvious - it didn’t. “Wow. You have gorgeous eyes,” you compliment him. His heart starts to pound faster, he couldn’t help but notice how close the two of you were and you complementing didn’t help is desperate attempt to act normal. You notice how silent he is and the odd behaviour he’s showing, “are you getting shy on me Mr. Lupin?” You tease.

“What! No!” He frantically replies. You only laugh in response.

You finish the foundation and contouring and attempt on starting his eyeliner. “Ugh! It’s so hard doing eyeliner in this position!” You complain, “do you mind if I sit in your lap?”

His eyes widen. He knew this probably didn’t mean anything flirtatious but he couldn’t help the blush reappearing on his face - luckily the foundation covered it. “No! I mean, no I don’t mind,” he replies. He prayed to Merlin that it wasn’t obvious that he liked you.

You took up the invitation and straddled him and began his eyeliner. “Much better,” murmur to yourself.

He felt so stupid and could not stop the thoughts in his head. He couldn’t stop thinking about how cute you looked whilst concentrating and how easy it would be to kiss you. He was too busy admiring you to notice you had finish his eyeliner.

“Now all you need is lipstick!” You exclaim in excitement over the good work you have achieved.

“Ok,” Remus replies simply but before here could ask where it is you kiss him, transferring your lipstick onto him.

The lycanthrope froze with shock, he had no idea that from the moment you met him you also had a crush on him but before Remus could even say anything you shoved a mirror in his hand. “You like?” You asked innocently, like you never kissed him.

“Um- yeah” Remus replies in confusion, he was referring to the kiss and the makeup. “Did you just kiss me?” He asks.

“Yep!” You answer proudly.

“Ok. Cool,” he lifts an eyebrow on confusion, “and why did you kiss me?”

You tilt your head and smile, “because I like you and I hope you like me?”

He tries to hold back his gigantic smile but it was futile. He didn’t know what to say so he just pulled you back into kiss you once more.

Remus has never felt so happy in his life as he walks into his room thinking back at the amazing night he just had the with person he has liked for years. It felt just like a dream to him.

“Had a good night, Mooney?” Sirius chuckles as he notices his friend entering their shared room.

Remus furrows his brows, “yes.. why?”

“Oh you know it’s pretty clear why,” James laughs, “the big proud smile, the makeup, oh and the smudged lipstick all over your face.”

Remus turns to look in the mirror to black lipstick marks all over his face.

[sailorvenusxoxo]

The Fuck of a Lifetime (Tony Baddingham x FTM Reader)

Fandom: Rivals Pairing: Tony Baddingham x FTM Trans reader Summary: You're Tony's lover, and after a recent bottom surgery, you two finally reunite and share this new moment for you, in one of the way you both secretly craved. Warnings: smut, ftm reader, trans reader, slight mention of previous dysmorphia, clinical talk, fellatio, anulingus,slight domination, fingering, dom reader, bed sex, crying during sex. Word count: 4.1k requested by: @chrissydablsissy a/n: Wow. What a huge thing for me! First time I ever wrote something related to transidentity, so I really hoped I did you guys honour. I had it checked by one trans masc friend of mine, another non-binary masc, which they approved of! If you have any feedbacks, don't hesitate. I hope this will offend no one, I love you all, and I hope you will like it ♡

You looked at yourself in the mirror, utterly… proud. Satisfied. Well, not just that. Also… Deliriously happy.

Fuck, you could feel the tears, as you looked at your recovering body. Slightly scarred, but still beautiful and proudly standing.

God… Your body. It was your body. And it was all like you wanted. The shape, the size, the looks… You felt… At home. Once a stranger in your own body, you now felt finally at peace.

Yes, perhaps that was the feeling. Peace? Maybe less body dysmorphia... Less visible traces of the other gender you were born in. No, none of that frightened other person you were, finding themselves, trying to accept their previous body.

You were finally you. And while you’d never forget your struggling self, for they fought so hard for this current body, you knew you had moved on.

Surely to others, admiring your own naked body in the mirror, in tears, could be seen as narcissistic. But who gave a shit? It was the 80s, everyone’s narcissistic. And fucking hell, do you deserve this self-love. You had made it. Career wise, and… self-wise.

You wiped a tear, as you playfully flexed your arm, to imitate those male models you often saw. You chuckled, looking around every inch of your body. Your pecs, your stomach, your arse, your cock.

It was still a bit daunting to look at it. It was new, it was there, and in your own humble opinion, it looked glorious. Suddenly, a knock.

“Excuse me, sir? Are you ready for your check up with the Doctor?”

The nurse’s voice asked, from outside the room. You blinked, snapped back to reality, but to a much pleasant, and happy one.

“Yeah, sure. I’m coming!”

You replied, smiling, before getting dressed again. You felt the immense pleasure (though slight physical pain and discomfort) to finally tuck some flesh in your trousers, and you headed to the Doctor’s office, which wasn’t the one you had consulted or had followed you this year, through your three surgeries for a phalloplasty, you noticed. Indeed, you had spent ten months with one doctor following you, through your three operations constituting your phalloplasty, the last one being the implantation of a malleable penis implant.

You entered the office, the doctor explaining your regular one was doing another surgery, so he was replacing. It was the usual warnings and advice for recovery. Six weeks of limited work and before any sexual activity, painkillers just in case, cream to apply in case of infections…

“And… That’s pretty much it. Do not hesitate to contact us again if needed, or any doubts, Mr. Baddingham.”

The Doctor stated, his voice firm and rather cold, but not unkind.

You blinked, confused.

“Um…I’m not-? I’m not Mr. Baddingham.”

You stated, a bit confused. Why the hell did he think-?

The doctor frowned, taken aback.

“But… Your paying bill says Tony Baddingham? Perhaps I misread the file, then?”

You cringed slightly and shrugged.

“No, you did not. It’s…It was a present, this phalloplasty. So, I was not paying for it.”

You mumbled, a bit reluctant to admit. The doctor nodded, apologising.

Indeed, while you were thrilled with this operation, and grateful, a part of you was a bit disappointed you hadn’t paid it yourself. It would have been… more meaningful. More poetic, almost. But you had to keep it real. When Tony had nonchalantly offered to pay for it, after you had mentioned it again following a heated night, you knew it would have been dumb to refuse. With your current pay and savings, you would have to have waited ten more other years, for this surgery.

Leaving this thought aside, you exited the clinic, taking a taxi back to your place. Back there, you were surprised to see a letter has been sent to you.

A little postcard, with simple words.

“Get well soon, keep me updated on your state. -T”

Rather cold and plain, but you did not expect much from him. It was already a rather grand gesture, to pay for your operation, despite the fact Tony was always one to throw money at his problems. And his latest problem, for him to throw money at, had been your lack of libido, due to your discomfort in your body.

You sighed soflty, still deciding to keep the bright side of it. At least… It was done. And it was there forever.

As you put your stuff back in the shelves, you decided to ring him. To your surprise, he replied on the third ring. Not bad, for him.

“Tony Baddingham, I’m listening?”

He smoothly said into the phone, like with any potential buyers or customers.

“Hey. It’s me, I’m back from the clinic.”

You replied into the phone, your finger tapping against your thigh. Tony stopped for a bit, and it seemed like he was getting up, perhaps to close his office’s door.

“Hmpf. Back already? Suppose it went well, then.”

He observed, as you nodded, though he could not see it.

“Yeah, yeah. Really well, I’m glad. I’m… Very pleased with the result.”

You smirked, a hint of a cocky smile on your lips, looking at yourself in the mirror. You were almost tempted to spend all your rest days naked at home.

Then, you quickly added.

“Y’know… I wanted to thank you. Properly. You paid for something that changed my life, and-”

He interrupted you.

“Hm, sure, no troubles. How long until we can have sex again?”

He firmly asked, stopping your previous sentence. You pinched your lips, annoyed. It was so typical of him, to shut down and move on whenever vulnerability or actual feelings and emotions came on.

“Six weeks.”

You simply replied, as you heard him groan.

“Six weeks? Blimey, that’s like when Mon’ had our kids… That’s long.”

He grumbled, as you rolled your eyes, not really pleased with the comparison, and the mention of his wife.

“Yeah, well. Firm order, it’s too sensitive and new. And I won’t budge, I want to take good care of it.”

You firmly said, adamant. You were certainly not going to butcher your new body.

“Right, right…”

Tony mumbled, before clearing his throat.

“Well, I gotta go, back to work. I…”

You could hear him think, almost hesitating on his next words.

“I…I hope you’re alright. Take care. I’m…Looking forward, to seeing you again.”

He murmured, in a softer voice. You felt your heart skipping a beat, as you pinched your lips again, this time in fluster.

“…Yeah, I will. I’ll ring you soon. I miss you.”

You mumbled in a reply, a faint blush on your cheeks, as he replied.

“Miss you too. Bye.”

Before hanging up.

As cold and as annoying as he was, you knew that underneath this shell was an insecure man. An insecure man, that sometimes did terrible things. But, god helped you, you craved him. You craved to see him again. And currently, you craved to fuck him. Have him whimpering, begging for mercy under you, as you’d thrust into him, feeling him all around you…

You winced slightly in pain. Christ, you had forgotten arousal would also trigger some pain, at first. But you felt it! The blood rushing to your penis, swelling it, hardening it.

Those six weeks couldn’t come fast enough.

_______________________________________________

Six weeks later

You grumbled, at the coffee Deidre handed you.

“…Damn it, Deidre… You know I can’t stand milk in my-!”

She glared back at you, the older woman clearly not inclined to make you another coffee. Your lips scrunched, and you sighed in annoyance, reluctantly drinking the soupy mixture. You were far too afraid of Deidre to insist on her making you another one, though you technically could.

Indeed, somehow, as soon as you came back from your rest days, five weeks earlier, you had been promoted, to slightly upper responsibility job. You were quite surprised, since it was a bit odd to be promoted after two weeks away, but you excitedly accepted it, not caring for the metaphoric shadow of Tony suspiciously planning something.

After you finished the atrocity that was black coffee with milk and sugar, you saw Daisy, a secretary, hanging by your desk. You smiled at her.

“Hey, Dais’. What’s up?”

You asked, putting your TARDIS mug down.

Daisy simply tilted her head, smiling.

“Just the big boss, wanting to see you. Apparently, it’s scheduled every week, with your new job.”

You raised your eyebrows, a bit surprised, but nodded.

“Oh? Well, sure. I’ll go to his office, then.”

You shrugged, as Daisy shook her head.

“Yeah, he’s actually in The Falconry…”

She cringed softly, knowing you had to drive there, in the Cotswolds. You grumbled again, grabbing your coat.

“Why on earth isn’t he in his office, the lazy bastard…?”

You scoffed to yourself, marching down the corridors, to exit the Corinium Building. You got to your car, turning the key, putting your sunglasses on, and unbuttoning slightly your shirt, because of the heat. The radio turned itself on, Freddie Mercury’s voice ringing through the radio, raging about a bicycle. You could swear this clanky Bentley you had found in a garage shop for a ridiculously low price was sometimes possessed. It perpetually skipped every cassette you put in, until it was some Queen.

As you reached the green Cotswolds, you looked around the environment. You really fancied this estate. It was all green, large, with many trees, and many wildlife that your lover unfortunately shot during his bloody hunts with his board members. Either way, you knew you’d really love a little place here, if you could.

Finally, you reached the Falconry, which was the Baddingham’s manor. Parking there, you closed the door, climbing up the front stairs that you mostly knew from the numerous garden parties Monica threw for Tony. You knocked on the door, your throat clearing as you absently fanned yourself with a file signalling your latest department’s reports. You supposed you needed it, after all.

To your surprise, the door was not opened by the usual maid, but Tony himself. Tony, wearing his usual Versace lounge blouse, that you so often mocked him for, to accentuate his poshness. But before you could jest about him opening, or about his blouse, he roughly grabbed you by your sweat damped shirt, pulling you in for a harsh, strong kiss, his lips devouring yours.

You froze slightly, tensing in surprise, before you moved your lips slightly against him, putting your free hand on the back of his tilted head, to kiss him deeper.

“Hmm…”

He groaned softly, his tongue probing at your lips, trying to gain its way in. He always had this little habit of his, which was to make a grunting sound while he kissed you or did you. Little habit, that transpired in the rare aftercare moments you two had, when the grunting would turn into little humming sounds, as he softly kissed you. A rare sighting, in your encounters with Tony Baddingham, but a greatly appreciated one.

You pulled away, softly shaking your head, chuckling.

“Missed me that much? We saw each other two days ago-!”

You started as he grumbled, leading you inside.

“It’s been precisely seven weeks. Bedroom. Now.”

He almost growled, his accent turning sharper and accentuating every syllable, as you followed him to his bedroom, eyes widening. It was the first time you two met in his private bedroom, in his own bed. Then again, today would be lots of firsts.

“So… This isn’t a work meeting at all?”

You snickered, following him inside the stuffy bedroom, cringing slightly at the decoration.

Tony scoffed, shaking his head, already unbuttoning his blouse, gesturing you with his chin to get on the bed.

“As if. I pretty much gave you this promotion, knowing I’d get a weekly long meeting with you…”

He snickered, proud of himself, as you rolled your eyes, also unbuttoning your blouse. Pulled by him or not, you knew you were perfect in that promotion, and that even work wise, you deserved it. But you’d act scandalised another day. Currently, the sight of him taking his blouse off was rewiring your mind on more erotic fields, and you discreetly dug your hand in your trousers, starting to bend your penis in the erect position, holding it still, for the erection to start. As you felt yourself successfully getting hard, your hand slowly pumped your length, an excited grin on your face, as Tony fumbled with his fancy blouse.

You chuckled.

“Having some troubles...?”

You teased him, as he scoffed, getting it off, throwing the silk in a corner of the stuffed room, landing on an empty dog basket.

“I’ll give you some trouble…”

He retorted, his hands moving to his trousers, taking them off. As his hands worked with the button and zipper, he smirked, slurring:

“I bet you missed it, didn’t you?”

He almost purred, his voice as smooth as honey, like he usually did when trying to seduce you. You smiled, amused, before shrugging.

“Sure, I did. But… Shouldn’t we test my brand-new anatomy?”

You smirked, spreading a leg, eager to finally do it. Months, you had spent fantasising on it, for it was slowly becoming concrete. And now, there it was! You could fuck him. It had become such a huge fantasy of yours, to see him crumbling under you, to feel him around your length…

Though to be fair, by doing it, it will become extremely hard to not quip ‘already did!’, when someone at work would say ‘Fuck Tony Baddingham’.

Tony stopped himself, blinking, looking away for a bit. Then, he nervously chuckled, shaking his head.

“…Sure. As if they moulded it as big as m-mine…”

He snickered, taking a cocky and arrogant stance, as you raised an eyebrow.

“Size doesn’t’ matter, Tone. If it did, I’d already have gone to Rupert.”

You smirked, to rile him up. It worked, for he glared at you.

“Well, aren’t you so fucking funny?”

He snarled, as you rolled your eyes, amused. Why didn’t he want to try it out?

“Why the hell not, though?”

You asked him, an eyebrow raised.

“It isn’t some limp flesh, and you know it. I have an implant, it can get hard…Sure no semen comes out, but… a clear liquid can, almost like precum. It’s from some glands, that were preserved from my old reproductive system, and that I didn’t get rid of.”

You explained, your face turning a bit still. You were so eager for it, why wasn’t he? Tony pinched his lips, looking away.

“Which is fine and dandy. But I do the fucking, don’t I?”

He mumbled, almost pouty. Almost as if… He could not allow himself to be taken just yet. You grumbled softly, looking at him.

Tony was a man of words. A man who succeeded in life, and business, by shit tons of privileges, but also words. He talked his way to many things. And so will you.

“…Come over here.”

You murmured to him, sat on the bed, as he was still standing up. He reluctantly came closer to you, his eyes finding yours.

“I think you don’t get it, do you?”

You murmured, as he frowned.

“You don’t get it, how much you turn me on. How much I think of you, under me, begging for me to fuck you harder. You don’t get how aroused I am, at the thought of you bouncing on my cock, sucking in it, or begging for more fingers in your tight, posh hole. You don’t get how you are to me, when you unravel.”

You continued, as his eyes widened, his jaw clenching, his throat bobbing as he swallowed, visibly getting turned on.

“You’re a bloody vision. Goddamnit, Tony. I want to fuck you, so fucking hard. Make you mine. Have you all… yourself. I want to fuck Tony, not Lord Baddingham.”

You mumbled, looking at him, your hand slowly gliding to his belt, as you took his reaction in. He was staring at you, the engines of his brain working.

“…Fuck it.”

He suddenly spat out, getting on his knees, eagerly tugging your trousers down. You groaned, also pulling them down, taking off your boxers at the same time. Your erection sprung out, and Tony moaned.

“Fuck you were right…”

He murmured, his eyes staring at it, like in a trance.

“It’s bloody glorious.”

He whispered, his voice almost shaking, as you softly gripped his hair.

“And it’s all yours. Put your mouth on it. I know you’ve been dreaming on it too…”

You murmured, your voice low and husky in desire. Tony swallowed one last time, before nodding taking a tentative lick at the base, directly at the tip, where the liquid from your previous glands were leaking, almost like precum.

“Gosh… You taste the same…”

He murmured, a hint of satisfaction in his voice. You knew he loved your taste. So did you, to be fair. It was always a delight to taste yourself on his mouth.

“Wrap your lips around it. I’m sure you know how to give proper head, or do I have to teach you?”

You smirked, softly gripping his hair. He grumbled wrapping his lips around your base, before he moaned softly at the sensation, sending vibrations through your length. You tensed, feeling the intense pleasure, both physical, but also emotional. It felt so perfect to be able to do this, in the right, with the right body for you. You could almost felt tears prickling in again.

At first, Tony was slow with his mouth. He was bobbing his head softly, exploring the flesh and the new sensation with his tongue and lips, as you slowly guided him with your hand. But soon enough, his bobbing turned faster and more hurried, as you felt saliva dripping from his mouth to all around your length, dripping down to your pubic hair. You grunted, gripping his hair harder, as he clumsily tried to take it all.

“Ease up, baby. You can do this, do it slowly, at your rhythm…”

You murmured, your voice hushed by the pleasure. But Tony kept on going, his mind set.

“N-No… Want to take it all… Can take it all…”

He grumbled, eager to prove himself, as he choked again on your length, trying. You sighed softly, guiding his mouth slower.

“Fucking hell, you’re so perfect, Tone… Just keep sucking, you’re being perfect…”

You murmured, as Tony felt his skin shiver at the praise. Like always, he loved it. But while exposing his more vulnerable self, praising felt like a soothing balm to his opened wounds. His hand moved to your sack, cupping it, slowly massaging it, as you smiled at the intention. It felt nice, and added to the stimulation, it was divine.

“God, just like that…”

You grunted, as Tony kept on busying his mouth with his length, now eagerly sucking it, despite the still presence of his clumsiness, due to his lack of experience in doing it.

Finally, you decided to pull him away, as he grunted, at the loss of contact. You chuckled, shaking your head, making him lay in the bed with you.

“You…are getting the fuck of a lifetime.”

You smirked, echoing the numerous times he said it to you. He tensed in pleasure and anticipation, his lips stretching in a grin.

You started to pepper kisses down his body, covering neck with eager kisses, then his chest, stopping at his nipples, to play with them. You used the flick of your tongue to eagerly suckle at it, as his throat escaped grunts of pleasure. Your lips continued its path to his stomach, kissing his happy trail of hair, before you got to his crotch. You snickered, pulling his pants down, purposely skipping his groin. He groaned, squirming.

“Seriously? I gave you head, and-”

He started, as you interrupted him.

“Shut the fuck up… This will feel better than head.”

You snickered, before freeing his arse from his pants. You settled yourself cozily between his legs, as he started to figure out your intents.

“I-I… I haven’t shaved or anything… And I only took a shower this morning, and-”

He trailed, almost embarrassed, his vulnerability seeping through, as you decided to shut his insecurities up, by showing him how acceptant you were. ­Really acceptant.

You lapped up a stripe at his most intimate area, your tongue finding its way between his crack, to further entice him. He tensed, gasping, as you immediately went back there, this time with a goal. His hole. You licked at his most sensitive spot, like a starved man. You lubricated it, but most importantly, devoured him. You wanted him to feel desired, and you wanted to feel his hole clench around your tongue. You wanted to hear his gasps, moans, whimpers of embarrassment and pleasure. And god, did they feel amazing.

“O-Oh! Oh, fuck, you-! You crazy fucker, you can’t just- god, yes!”

He cried out, as you slurped, licked, moaned, slid your tongue around. After a few torturous minutes of you devouring his arse, you pulled away, slowly sliding a finger on his crack.

“I’ll go… easy and gentle. You tell me when it’s too much, or if it hurts, okay?”

You murmured to him, your eyes clouded by lust, as he nodded, his body almost shaking.

First, the tip of your middle finger. Just the first knuckle, slowly sliding in, as he gasped and clenched around you, his hole almost swallowing you up, eager for more. You went on to slide it in fully, as he let out a curse, gripping the sheet.

You smirked, slowly thrusting your finger, moving it around gently, to have him get used to the sensation. Clearly, he was loving it, the sneaky bastard, with the scrunch of his face, and his filthy moans. After a bit, you sneaked in the second finger, as slowly as you could, as his moans turned into actual groans.

“Fuck! Fuck yes, yes…. Like that, like-”

He gasped his back arching, as you caressed his thigh, your fingers still moving. If Tony had always seemed reserved, his body wasn’t. It was hungry, starving.

After the third finger passed, minutes later, you knew you could finally do it. Truth to be told, if you didn’t, you feared he’d just fire you. He was… eager.

“For fuck’s sake, just fuck me! Fuck me, damn it, just stick your big cock inside of me!”

Tony snapped, sitting up, his hair messy, his composure long lost. Needless, to say, you pounced on him like an animal, yourself also way too riled up.

You still managed to gently line your length to his entrance, lubing it up with as much spit as you could, and some lube that stood on the bedside table (you didn’t’ want to delve more on its presence), before finally entering him. Your eyes met as it happened, and you both gasped, utterly stunned by the pleasurable sensation.

You felt tears prickling, yet again. God, it was too good. Fucking him, you were fucking him! Your hips moved, as your tears of joy and pleasure streamed down your cheeks, and your hands rested on his chest.

“Fuck yeah, Tone… That’s right, take it…”

You choked out, your words slurred by lust and pleasure, as Tony was taking deep breaths, his back arching, himself also losing control.

“J-Just… God, yes. Fuck me, fuck me darling…”

He gasped, his hand holding to the back of your neck, bringing you closer for a heated kiss, your tongues delving in each other’s mouths. Perhaps it was an impression, or simply your own tears, but you felt as if he was crying as well.

Crying of pleasure, sobbing of utter pleasure. Surrendering himself to the one person who didn’t care about the Lord Baddingham, but simply himself, you.

“G-God, I love you so much…”

He choked out, his voice and his mind overtaken by his feelings. At his words, your eyes widened, and your pace accelerated, your mouth finding his again in heated kisses.

“I love you too… I love you too, Tone…”

You murmured, kissing his lips, holding him tight, like his body and his mind was silently begging you to do, the bed creaking and banging against the wall.

You kept on going, until you felt him clench tightly around you, and saw some cum landing on your joined stomachs, now softly sticking due to the semen. A wave of pleasure crashed over you, another type of orgasm, that was both physical and mental, and you collapsed next to Tony, still holding him.

Your first time like this. Your first time with him, like this, in your body. You kept on softly sobbing in joy, the sunlight peeking through the curtains, shining on your tears, as you laughed.

“God… It was amazing…”

Tony said, wrapping an arm around you, gruffly kissing your head, smiling, as you nodded, ready for one of another rare session of aftercare, and noisy kisses.

“Yeah… The fuck of a lifetime.”

You concluded, grinning.

[inkedinserendipity]

CHEESING SO HARD RN!! RAHHH LET’S GO JOEL!!

oh man. oh man okay. oh man so many thoughts. first of all SO proud of my boy joel smallishbeans lifeseries he was so anxious like a little puppy and he did it!! it’s about FAMILY

- grian v joel top two PVP went SO hard it was crazy! add that to grian telling joel like twenty minutes before that he’d give his life for him, and then going down swinging - so tasty. So Freaking Tasty.

- tango killing bdubs made me laugh so hard, especially with bdubs’ “oh i’m dead!” as he went. chihuahua-coded

- scar’s snail being what got him killed me. if not for the snails he would have done so much better omg

- also grian being like yeah, so glad scar died because now i can do the bamboozler trap without worrying about him. calling them strong allies. desert duo real

- gem. just. gem. i don’t know how she wins from this point on. because everyone knows how dangerous she is! she has a reputation! people were out for her blood so so quickly. and even if she made a bunch of allies and avoided dying for like a comically impressive amount of time - she really does have a target in her back! like what does she even do? does she just…pretend to throw? lost from being too good at the game.

- OH YEAH jimmy got flight!! and then grian got it! everything i wanted for the avian headcanons thank you random superpower gods

- pearl walking into her fifteen thousandth finale PVP, cigarette dangling from her lips, dead inside: “here we go again”

- no genuinely it’s so funny she’s been one of the top players in a comical amount of series she’s so good

- GRIAN!! his lines went SO hard! when he killed jimmy (and lizzie sorry lizzie) the line of like “it was always gonna end this way” was absolutely crazy. he said he’d take jimmy out of the series and he DID. and then when he escaped the tower the “not like mumbo, not like skizz, not like that, not today” was so fucking hard. that was insane. those lines went OFF

- which, also, fanon-lore-wise, the watcher going vengeful after the freed canary is fascinating.

- speaking of which, grian just. cannot be without his team. grian let skizz (and mumbo) be dead for like one episode challenge he can’t he just keeps bringing them back

- bigb dying to his snail first, and his last death being to his snail…poetic

- joel’s trap failing to kill him was chef’s kiss hilarious. sorry you suck at traps bud good thing you’re killer at pvp

- impulse i was rooting for you. impulse you just went down trying to hit the wrong guy i’m so sorry. you’ll get em next time. i wanted you to win :’(

- okay like, i saw this post about how the life series either has to end soon or the winners have to start letting themselves re-win to prevent the victories from being like “okay everyone gets one!” and like, i don’t know if it was excellent acting (and to be fair he did say he’d give his life for joel a few minutes beforehand) but grian looked like he was really gunning for that win. would’ve been fascinating! especially if you like watcher lore, the concept of him leaning so hard back into watcher abilities that he wins again is just so Tastey

- and to conclude: what a good fucking series. can’t wait to see what the fandom comes up with in terms of lore and headcanons and joel joining the winner’s pantheon! huge kudos to grian and the mods and the production team and everyone who contributed to this season. hilarious, entertaining, enthralling - what a good thing they’ve made. kudos and more kudos!

[idkfitememate]

I suddenly had an idea! Red Panda! Creator! reader that acts like how leona from twisted wonderland. Just casually napping, they small. Ever heard of the qoute, the bark is bigger than their bite something something but red panda reader? THEY FUCKIN BITE ONLY.

Since I don’t use Inazuma enough, we’ll go to Inazuma ໒꒰ྀིᵔ ᵕ ᵔ ꒱ྀི১!

You give no fucks and take no shit. Mess with your naps and they get the teeth.

You lead a little group of Red Pandas that hold a little territory right outside of Inazuma. It’s filled with bamboo and large trees and it’s honestly just a Red Panda’s dream.

Out of your group there one who’s always smiling and… well his barks sound like laughs. Then there’s one that… honestly people are pretty sure that’s just a wolf you guys painted red but that doesn’t matter becaUSE HE’S ONE OF YALL AND THAT’S ALL THAT MATTERS-

(I think I’m taking the “Acts like Leona from TWST” to far lol-)

Unlike the Itto gang who are mostly harmless, the people have learned to fear you as they do the Shogun. Last guy who fucked with you ended up blind in one eye. What can you say your claws are sharp!

The only people allowed around y’all are:

A. Sayu. She’s quiet and soft. Perfect for napping on.

B. Thoma. He brings you guys food. No more to be said.

C. Kujou. You understand that even she, at times, could use a break. And she was quiet enough so she could stay.

Beyond them, everyone else was on your shit list.

The Riden Shogun is just… weird.

Both Kamisato’s really just unnerve you a bit.

Yae Miko is Yae Miko.

You don’t know Kazuha enough to know him.

Yoimiya is on your “Attack on sight” list because of her fireworks. Fuck them fireworks.

Itto is so GODDAMN loud. Never again.

Kirara? Who tf is that?-

Can’t be bothered with Gorou.

Shinobu sticks with Itto. That’s enough to dislike her.

Heizou… yeah you just don’t like him.

Another reason why people are a wee bit scared of you: You bit the Shogun. Also Ei. Yeah the second that news reached everyone people did their damndest to stay away.

Were you proud of it? Not really, but she stepped on your tail. Steppers of the tail get your teeth and nails, that’s what you always say.

It was almost pitiful to see the people of Inazuma throw beans at a real life Oni and then throw all their wares at a Red Panda that barely went up to said Oni’s shin.

You also may or may not have tried to eat Paimon because she talked too much. No one was gonna stop you. You made sure of that.

The scars never fade, Heizou. They never fade.

(… Your biggest achievement was setting The Grand Narukami Shrine on fire. No one has figured out who did it, and you intend to keep it that way. Look the other goddamn way Heizou.)

This little guy would bite your ankles, no hesitation. Your skin tastes like fresh bacon to this dude. Anyway, hope you enjoyed ૮꒰˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶꒱ა