#O H ! just huntin'

[lunajay33]

Change Part.3

•🩰🎀🩷•

Summary: Y/n is a loner but loves ballet but her family doesn’t have enough money for her to dance at the studio, Daryl is a redneck who hates people and prefers bikes, until one day these two run into eachother and their lives change drastically, will Daryl toughen her up? Will y/n soften Daryl? Or both? How will things go when people start coming back from the dead

Pairing: Young Daryl Dixon x f!reader

A/n: This is going to be a series, it’s gonna start with how they met eachother and their lives before the apocalypse, eventually it’ll blend with twd story line!!

Part.2

•Masterlist•

I woke up feeling groggy and exhausted from the events of the day before, rolling over to see Daryl still laid out on the makeshift bed of blankets on the ground by my bed

“Daryl?” I said reaching down and shaking his shoulder

“Hmm?” He groaned opening his eyes to look up at me

“It’s morning, do you wanna go get some breakfast?”

“Sure”

I got up and rummaged through my drawers pulling out a pair of black leggings and longsleeve white shirt that had a tiny pink bow on the collar

“Mind if I change here?” I asked seeing as Daryl was already looking at me

“Go fer it”

I turned around and undressed throwing my pajamas in my laundry bin then quickly putting on the new days outfit, when I finished I turned seeing him with a wide smile

“What?”

“Cute panties” he said laughing under his breath obviously talking about my pink panties with white little lace trimming

“Stop” I said lighting pushing his arm

“As if yours are any better” I said as we both looked at his plaid boxer

We went out to the diner and had some breakfast, I didn’t wanna stay in the house knowing Jackson was still there

May was there and took our orders when we sat at the counter

“Thanks again for staying with me last night” I said as I stirred my straw in my water hearing the ice cubes clink together

“ ‘s nothin, didn’ wanna leave ya there knowin those assholes were still there” he said shrugging

It was silent for a while after that as we got our food and ate in peaceful silence, then paying May and leaving

“Wanna come over?” He asked as the dinner door behind us rang as it shut behind us

“Sure I don’t have anything else to do!”

He showed me around, he lived in a little house on the edge of town near the woods, more like a cabin than a house and if it got cleaned up and decorated nice, it would make a cute home

“I know it ain’t much but it’s enough” he said obviously feeling ashamed as we sat on his bed facing eachother

“I’m not judging you Daryl” I smiled, he nodded as I saw a flush of red on his cheeks

I looked around his room never having been in a guys room before, but it seemed like the typical you’d expect, light brown walls, cross bow in the corner, plaids upon plaids hanging in his closet, a page ripped out of a busy magazine and tapped to the wall

“I see you got a type” I said trying to hide the laugh that was creeping up as he quickly turned to look at it by his bed post

He ripped it down and threw is in the trash in the corner of his room

“Damn Merle musta put that up”

“Suuuuuuure”

“Ain’t my type anyways” he grumbled under his breath

“Oh and what is?” He looked me up and down before looking back at his lap

“H/c, e/c, she gotta be nice a little bit more quiet, can’t stand lots o’ noise”

“Hmmm I see” atleast he kind of described me, I had the hair color, the eye color, I’m pretty nice I think and I’m pretty quiet but I’m not gonna read into it just to get my heart broken

“So Mr. Dixon what makes you Daryl, what do you like”

“Not much, like huntin, tattoos, bikes”

“Do you have tattoos?” I asked intrigued

“Got two on my back”

“Can I see?” I could tell he tensed up and wasn’t so keen on the idea

“Maybe another time” he said looking down again

“Okay no problem!” I said a bit cheerier to life the tension

It was silent for a while until he got up off the bed and crouched down under his bed by me pulling out a box and placing it infront of me and he sat back infront of me

“What’s this?”

“Got ya somethin, saw it in a store, cleaned em up as best I could” he was blushing again and I was beyond excited to even see what he got me

I opened the lid of the box and my heart stopped, it was a pair of ballet slippers, shiny pink with ribbons, the bottoms were a bit stained but it’s expected

“Daryl……..you got these for me?” I was stunned no one has ever done anything like this for me

“Was looking around hopin I could find somethin, don’t know if they’ll fit tho”

I hopped up taking off my socks and slipped them on, I stood up and they were a perfect fit, Daryl got on his knees before me and laced the ribbon around my leg tying it in a bow

“Ya like em?” He asked looking down at me as he stood up

“Daryl I love them, thank you so much!” I said so happy I threw my arms around his shoulders and pulled him into a hug, feeling his hands on my lower back, engulfing it, I pulled back slowly our lips so close I could feel his breath, smoky but mint

“Thought ya deserve ta feel like a ballerina” he whispered

I couldn’t hold it in anymore, I leaned in ever so slowly our lips just grazing each others…………when the door burst open

“Damn it Merle” Daryl groaned as we stepped back from eachother

“Woah sorry brother, didn’t know ya had a lady over”

“Get out” he said trying to push him out

“Just came ta tell ya, dads comin home soon” he stiffened and looked back at me as I stood there embarrassed

“Do ya wanna go out fer dinner or somethin?” He asked with pleading eyes

“Of course! We can go to the diner again!” I took my slippers off and put the in the box as I pick up my socks and we went to the front door to put on our shoes, then walking quietly to the diner

“Are you okay D?” I asked worried

“ ‘s nothin, old man just ain’t the meetin type”

“Oh well, you know I’m always here for you, you can stay at my place whenever you’d like!”

“Thanks, might take ya up on that, yer gonna have ta show me yer moves with yer new slippers” he smiled as he placed his arm around my shoulder

I couldn’t believe all this was happening, it’s been such a short time since I’ve really known him and he’s already done more for me than anyone else, and made me feel more alive, I might really like this Dixon

Part.4!

Taglist: @pinchofthetwd @bigbaldheadname @strawberrykiwisdogog @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @l0kilaufeys0n7 @welcumetomyescape @severelykinky @tesfayera @daryldixmedown @secretsicanthideanymore @lettersfromyourlove @mordilwen-of-mirkwood @secretsicanthideanymore

[olibavee]

occultdigest replied to your post: guess what?[[MOR]

Genuine Bigfella

Three payments...

[arce-elliot]

Magnus Archives - First Impressions (151-175)

We’re almost there, gang. Out of the Lonely and into the Eyepocalypse we go! Blah blah I had 75% of the series spoiled and am jotting down my thoughts, you know the drill.

EP 151 (Big Picture): - OH SIMON??? - okay okay Simon's kinda funny, you go you funky little sky grandpa - Martin Tell Her The TRUTH EP 152 (A Gravedigger's Envy): - oooh another ancient one - hey that's terrifying wtf - can someone please comfort jonny boy good lord EP 153 (Love Bombing): - Idk why the cult ones freak me out, maybe because cults are real? - oh god what's gonna happen to that dog - I literally just made my dinner with white wine vinegar that's a little old are you sHITTING ME - GIRL GET OUT OF THERE WHILE YOU HAVE A CHANCE YOU KNOW SOMETHING'S OFF - AYYY THE HUNTIN' GANG - tbh it was weird that they helped him even though they knew he wasn't human actually - DAISY!!!!! - Jon can you chill w/ the sass if you're not gonna help - Okay I'm gay but Daisy Growl Hot - Two dying monsters trying to reconcile their humanity, this is sad I hate it here EP 154 (Bloody Mary): - oh god it's This Episode I've been dreading it poor Eric - g o d Gertrude sounds so upset - I would die for Eric - "Eric I'm gonna count to ten and you're gonna tELL ME HOW YOU QUIT" - I'm already crying good god - "he needed me" o w - MARTIN GOT TO SAY FUCK!!!!! - O U C H - i am so upset FUCK this podcast - the catalogue of the dead is just the Delano-Keay family album EP 155 (Cost of Living): - CALL HER OUT JON - Tova, to this doctor's heart: it's free real estate - A FUCKING C H I L D?????? - ah yes, some more DIY surgery, who needs doctors when you have knives? EP 156 (Reflection): - ayyyy adelard how are ya - oh fun flesh time - oh? extinction? - also that was gross what the fuck - M A R T I N EP 157 (Rotten Core): - go save Martin before I cry - ADELARD!!! - ah no, I'm gonna miss this dude he was kinda cool - this hits different in corona times - okay this is actually pretty gross wtf - Martin's lonely because he chose to be, Jon is lonely because everyone hates him, poetic cinema EP 158 (Panopticon): - Ah Shit Here We Fucking Go - OH WHAT THE FUCK NOT!SASHA???? - AYYYYY THERE'S JONAH MAGNUS WELCOME HOME RAT BASTARD - uh oh bye bye Gertrude Time - mom and dad are fighting to be Martin's favorite parent lmao - no not the promise :C - Martin is the brain cell, he really just played both these men like kazoos - gdi Peter give me my boy back EP 159 (The Last): - hi I am Sad - Marto blease just go with the tired eyeball man - "i see you" MY B O Y S EP 160 (The Eye Opens) - oh lord here we go - at least we get some Jonmartin conversation - Monologue Time! - Jon: can I just say, from the bottom of my heart...my bad EP 161 (Dwelling): - welcome to the apocalypse bitches - FINALLY i've been waiting for these tapes for my entire life - TIMMMMMM! SASHAAAAA! - Elias being a normal person is unsettling - ALL THE EYE JOKES gdi I refuse to simp for eyeball man - THE JARRING "ARCHIVIST" I SWEAR TO FUCKING GOD - "If I wish for all of you to go away do you think it'll work?" well it worked on Tim and Sasha - Elias: I'm a cool boss, I can drink wine - the image of Jon just huddled on the couch with a bag of tapes and listening to them over and over is so sad - sorry Gertrude no Sasha, just a sad little man - thank u for the powerpoint Gertrude - JON DON'T SNAP - i love them so much your honor EP 162 (Cosy Cabin): - GERRY GERRY GERRY - okay Gertrude and Gerry are adorable I love goth boy and his badass grandma - Gerry, ever the pragmatist: but what about TAXES gertrude - Tim and Sasha interacting is the sweetest thing ;_; - oh this is AFTER the hookup lmao - OH WAIT Sasha canonically knew about Danny??? I didn't know that oof - Oh Jon's getting a phone call I suppose - Jon's trying so hard to be dramatic and Martin's like "okay bitch grab ur backpack and lets go" EP 163 (In The Trenches): - "Tell everybooooody I'm ooon my waaay, new frieeends and new plaaaaces to seeeee" - YESSS LET MARTIN CURSE OVER THE GUNSHOTS AND BAGPIPES - "Martin can you stand over there and cover your ears while I cast Eldritch Ramble" EP 164 (The Sick Village): - another one that hits different in corona times - I hate the word soupy - what in the midsommar - if you can't find your own statements, DIY your own - Martin: fuck u Jon, Helen's my friend now - Martin: can I get an Uber, can I PLEASE get an Uber EP 165 (Revolutions): - this is my friend's favorite episode so I'm excited - oh circus music gross - THE RHYMINGGGGG OH I LOVE THIS - my arms are sore from happy stimming at this audio oh my god - SHUT UP JON IT WAS A GOOD POEM - GET HER ASS JON - is that our first "Ceaseless Watcher"?? I think it was! - Jon: Level Up! - Martin: that's hot EP 166 (The Worms): - HELL YES JON SAID FUCK - oh worm? - Martin answer your damn phone - awww Martin don't doubt yourself :C EP 167 (Curiousity): - Fiona: lmao watch this -passes out- - oh I didn't realize Eric was one of the OGs, their conversations make more sense now - Michael :c - Gertrude you got played like a fiddle damn EP 168 (Roots): - jealous Martin lmao - Jon just tell him why you woke up that would probably solve this - As someone who also freaks out about every little twinge this episode felt targeted EP 169 (Fire Escape): - desolation time? desolation time. can't wait to walk through hell - so aside from Smirke's 14 we have the 3 additional fears: the Extinction, the Scotland, and the Landlord - oh this one is terrifiyng i love it - OOOOH the "jons" slowly fading in was really clever - G O D martin sounds so defeated poor boy EP 170 (Recollection): - Martin finding tape recorders is the cutest thing - Oh fuck are we in the Lonely oh shit - this is so disconcerting i love it - someone get this man a better chair EP 171 (The Gardener): - Martin: damn that's a lot of bones - oh not THIS dude again I can barely understand him oh my GOD - well that was interesting EP 172 (Strung Out): - oh web? - oh this is sad shit - I think this is one of the worst domains yet for me personally this sounds like hell - g o d the web makes my brain hurt blease Jonny I'm stupid EP 173 (Night Night): - oh dark? - oh so the darkness is just the apocalypse daycare? nice - oh and this tween runs it, nice - Jon: are you SURE you want me to kill this middle schooler? - wow this is depressing EP 174 (The Great Beast): - oh hunt? - oh vast? lmao that's what i get for assumptions - Martin just wants to kill a man is that too much to ask someone give him a gun EP 175 (Epoch): - ex...tinct...ion? - “Peter was right” no FUCK YOU I refuse to give Peter any credit LOOK ADELARD WAS RIGHT, Adelard Decker laid the BLUEPRINT - poor Jon he's gettin these hard-hitting google searches - Basira and Daisy?????? OH WAIT THAT MEANS OH NO

[meowdymista]

In For A Penny - Arthur x Female Reader

Notes: Adult content for an adult game.

Words: 5220

Arthur Morgan x Female Reader

Now on AO3!

Riding in to camp at Clemens Point, it quickly becomes clear a celebration is underway. The upbeat music and loud chatter advise a steady flow of alcohol, long before Bill staggers up to the hitching posts with a whiskey bottle in each hand.

“Mr Morgan! Have a drink with us!”

Arthur chuckles, rolling his eyes as Bill shoves the emptier of the two into his hand. “Thanks, Bill. What’re we celebrating?”

“I don’t really remember,” he slurs, continuing on past to his horse and raiding its saddle bag. “Sean saw some working girl in Rhodes��?”

Dismounting, he scans the camp and spots you by the fireside with Tilly and Karen. “A working girl, you say?” he asks, but Bill has found the opened bottles of fine brandy he robbed off some travellers earlier and is swaying his way over to the medical tent. 

He removes his hunted gains from his horse’s flanks and takes a large swig of the honey coloured spirit, not averting his gaze.

“Hey, Arthur!”

“Hey, Lenny, how you doin’?” He slams the carcass onto Pearson’s table and drains the bottle, joining the young man leaning against the tree trunk.

“I’m good. Hey, you heard about Sean?”

“Something about him and a working girl?” He looks over to you again, surprised by the camp’s reaction to you. Usually when an outside woman is brought in, the camp splits down the middle, with the women and Strauss on one side, and the more confident, virile men closest to the poor soul brought in for the evening’s entertainment. Somehow you have found your way into the former, with the exception of Javier who is singing on the dirt by your feet.

“Yeah, a girl he met in Valentine! He-”

“Art’er Morgan!”

“Mr Macguire.”

“Pour yerself a drink!” Sean pushes a tin cup into Arthur’s chest, raising his own into the air and sloshing it down on the group. “We’re celebratin’!”

“Tha’s clear enough to see,” he growls, smirking “But the details are still a little hazy.”

“Oh, it’s a good story, Mr Morgan! It’s a good’un. See, back in Valentine after you boys picked me up from them bounty hunters, I borrowed a few dollars of Bill to get meself cleaned up see-”

“Not that the smell changed much,” winks Lenny, earning himself a laugh. He pats Arthur on the shoulder and moves off to join the fire.

“Bastard,” scoffs Sean, scowling. “Anyways, where was I? Oh yeah, I found myself talkin’ to a lovely lady with a beautiful face and, you know-” He gestures at his chest with his hands spread, laughing. 

Ignoring him, Arthur sniffs the cup. “What’ve you put in this? Stinks of moonshine!”

“Nah, it’s whisky! Maybe gin… Maybe bit of everything, but you’re interruptin’ me there! Again! Do you want to know what we’re celebratin’ or not?”

“Fine.” He takes a swig and almost spits it out. Definitely moonshine.

“Well see, of course I needed to support the local economy of that muddy town, so I take her up to bed and we have a grand ol’ time! Honestly, it’s up there as one of the bests!” (“One of the few in total,” comments Charles on his way past.) “Anyways, after we say our goodbyes and I throw her the I’m too young to be settlin’ routine, I ride back to Horseshoe. Tha’s the end o’ tha’, bla dee bla, and then we come crashing into this place.

"All’s well, Mr Morgan. It’s been a coupl’ o’ months and I figure, hey, we’ve had some good scores, I reckon I’ve earned meself a wee pat on the back since none th’ rest o’ you fellers are doin’ it for me. I decided to get me revolver all done up nice at the gunsmit’ in Rhodes when I see her fanning herself outside the parlour house.

“You could have knocked me down wit’ a feather, Arthur! She’s leaning up against a pillar, with her belly out here!” He gestures again, his hand two feet from his untucked shirt. “I thought I’d had it, Morgan! Saw my life flash before me eyes! Sean Macguire, washed up at twenty t’ree!”

“So, we’re celebratin’ you becoming a daddy?”

“Oh no, Mr Morgan! No, we’re celebratin’ that I’m not going to be a pappy, and Ol’ Scar Face gets to keep his title as shitty dad of t’year!”

“I can hear you, you son of a bitch!” cries John from the poker table. Sean waves a hand in his direction dismissively.

“What makes you so sure?” asks Arthur.

“Because she was knocked up before she met me!” He grins widely, trying to instill the same excitement in his audience. Instead Arthur shakes his head, taking another swig, before cursing at the cups remembered contents and tipping it into the grass. “I’m just going down in history as a motherfucker! Not a pappy! How great is that?”

“For the kid? Oh, I’m sure he’s thrilled to pieces!” he says coldly.

“Ouch! Would you rather have another Jack in camp?”

“I would rather you stop risking becoming a father if you ain’t ready to be one!”

“Is that what you told Marston?”

“It’s what every boy is told when he becomes a man!” Arthur grabs a beer from a nearby crate, trying and failing to hide his frustration. “I guess no one ever thought you grown up enough to say.”

The redhead staggers, clutching his shirt. “Ooft, Mr Morgan, you're pulling me heart out me chest! I thought you’d be happy for me!”

“Mm, more like happy for the kid in question.” He looks back over to you, watching you laugh. Immediately he feels himself relax. “So who’s she? You bring her in to celebrate, or somethin’?”

“Who? Y/N?” Sean tops up Arthur’s cup, but he doesn’t notice. At that same moment, you look up and meet his gaze. He holds it hungrily, but Karen interrupts, offering you another drink, forcing you to look away. “Nah, she joined us couple nights back. Musta been the first night you was off huntin’ if you’ve not met her yet.”

“Y/N? That her real name?”

“As far as I know, but you know me, I don’t ask much.” Sean laughs and walks away, leaving Arthur to drain his beer in one.

“Everythin’ alright?”

He starts, pulling his eyes off you to find Abigail getting herself a bowl of stew. Unable to remember his last meal, he follows suit.

“Yeah, just gettin’ lost in my head I guess.”

“I’m sure he doesn’t mean it. Sean, I mean.” She gives him a sad smile. “Think he’s just scared of what could have been and relieved it isn’t.”

“Well, like I said, if he ain’t ready to be a daddy-”

“No one’s ever ready to be a parent. Hell, I was scared shitless when I found out I was expecting Jack, and then John…” “John’s scared of his own reflection.” This earns him a laugh as he tears them each a chunk of bread to go with their meal.

“You can’t tell me you weren’t scared when you found out about Eliza?”

“Oh, Miss Roberts, you don’t know the half of it.” They chuckle quietly, the warm evening air suddenly sombre. “Terrified is more like it, but I guess that went away soon enough.” His eyes drag back to you and how your smile lights up by the fire. “Say, who brought in Y/N?”

Abigail follows his gaze to where you’re sat and shrugs. “I don’t know exactly. Probably one of the fellas since we ladies don’t go out much.”

He takes another drink from the cup in his hand, but it no longer strips his tongue of tastebuds. “Hey, you not sitting down to eat that?”

“Not tonight,” she smiles, walking away. “Jack’s already in bed. G’night, Arthur, don’t make too big a fool of yourself, y’hear?”

He doesn’t. There’s something about you that draws him in, something about the whole situation that isn’t quite right, but he can’t focus when his jeans are tightening over his hips. He shakes his head, trying to clear it, but when Karen leaves her seat beside you, his untouched stew hits the ground and his spurs clink towards the fire.

********

“And who might you be?”

You look up from the flames, surprised. The man towers over you, his face unreadable and his thumbs tucked into his gun belt. Before you can answer, he has lowered himself next to you, nodding at the guitar playing mexican by your feet.

“Javier.”

“Arthur.”

“Didn’t take you long to serenade the newcomer, huh?”

You blush as Javier chuckles. “Usted me conoce bien.”

“Am I supposed to know what that means?” The stranger laughs loudly, drunkenly, his knee knocking yours.

“We’ve been running together long enough, haven’t we?”

“Ah, s’true, you got me there.” He shakes his head, chuckling as he shoves a cigarette between his lips. You watch his strong hands fumble with the small yellow box. His broad thumb pushes the insert too far, losing the majority of the sticks to the turf between his boots, but he doesn’t seem to notice. You grow more and more awkward as you’re forced to watch him drop or snap matches by the handful. He curses and drinks from the tin cup he brought over with him.

You notice Javier watching as well, his fingers continuing to dance over the strings. He mutters something in Spanish, and the smirk spreads enough to flash his teeth. You can only guess it is a friendly insult of some kind, but Arthur seems to come to another conclusion. He nudges you, and nods at the Mexican.

“Have you met the tough Mexican freedom fighter? The one that ran away when things got nasty?”

You hesitate, not sure how to respond. Luckily Javier shakes his head, his tightening jaw the only thing betraying his irk. “Let’s not play this game again, Arthur. It gets messy too fast.”

He grumbles, distracted when he finally gets a match to spark. He tries to hold it to the tobacco, but it burns out before his hands steady. He grunts in defeat, tucking the crumpled cigarette back into his breast pocket and turns to take you in. Somewhat satisfied, he leans forward, his hot breath moving the hair you have tucked behind your ear.

“So how much do you go for?” Your eyes widen with surprise. You try to speak, but no words form. For some reason, this tickles him. “Well? Cat got your tongue?”

“Leave her alone, Arthur.”

“Aw, Miss Tilly, I’m only playing.”

“Is he bothering you?” she asks gently. You can’t answer, your head is reeling with the way he spoke to you so bluntly, like you’re a whore looking for work. She sighs and gets to her feet, pulling you along with her. “C’mon. Let’s get another drink, and leave these assholes alone.”

“What’d I do?” he asks innocently.

“What didn’t you do?” mutters Javier.

“Wha’s tha’ supposed to mean?”

Tilly walks you away to a quieter corner, apologising, but you laugh it off. After all, you can think now. His proximity had put your head in a spin, but away from the heat and the physical contact you could think clearly again. You assure her no offence has been taken; he’s drunk, and something about his breath made you believe his drinks were much stronger than yours.

You clink a couple of fresh beers in cheers, and when Karen swoops round again, you let her pour you another shot of whisky directly into your mouth.

“Take it easy, huh?” Mary Beth says, touching Karen’s arm, but the blonde is already travelling again, this time towards the Irish man in the green bowler hat.

“Remind me again why I put up with you?” she slurs.

“Because you love me, darlin’!”

She laughs loudly, prodding him in the chest. “If I loved you, would I do this?” A crack reverberates across the lake, leaving the red head with a flaming red cheek.

“What was tha’ for?”

Mary Beth sighs in defeat, shaking her head at you. “She’s not normally like that, I promise. That boy is an exception.”

“Funny! I was just saying the same thing about Arthur!” You try to stop her, but she’s quickly confessed your strange encounter. Trying to hide your embarrassment, you find yourself infinitely grateful Tilly hasn’t heard everything he said. You like this group and don’t want anybody thinking less of you because of some drunken remark.

“Odd, he usually keeps to himself when there’s a new lady in camp,” muses Mary Beth.

“Abigail travelled with us a full month before he spoke to her.”

You set aside your empty bottle, feeling a little light headed. The two women muse, silently conversing in front of you until they’re interrupted with a shout.

“Where’s all this moonshine come from?” coughs Arthur, throwing aside a bottle he had found in the grass. “Is Sean trying to get everyone black out drunk?”

“Ah, not this time. That moonshine’s mine,” chuckles Hosea, walking over to pick up the bottle and return it to his tent. “I kept a couple back after we took it up to the Braithwaites. It comes in handy when making fire bottles and the like.”

“Well hide it somewhere more discrete, would ya?” Arthur splutters some more, following him. “I reckon Sean has already broken into your stash.”

“That would make sense,” sighs Hosea. You notice what had been five large bottles under the medical wagon has somehow dwindled to two. You also note that they are the same size and shape of the stuff Uncle had been drinking that morning, but you say nothing.

Following the women away from the campfire towards your beds, you see Mrs Adler close one of Mary Beth’s books she was reading by the lantern.

“It’s no good over here, ladies,” she grunts with disgust. “The boys are loud wherever you go.”

“Guess we had better wait it out by the water,” sighs Tilly.

“Hey, Y/N! What do you think of this?” Karen barrels her way to your side and, before you can greet her, she has tilted the contents of a tin cup into your mouth. The smell of alcohol alone is enough to bring tears to your eyes, and the other girls complain as you cough up a lung.

“Is that moonshine? And… tobacco?” you manage to gasp. 

“I can’t tell no more,” she slurs, squinting at the bottle. She turns around and pours you a cup from a different bottle. “What ‘bout this one?”

Mary Beth grabs her arm. “Karen! What’s gotten into you?”

“Leggo of me!”

Whilst they argue, you take the cup from her outstretched hand and drink it down in one. “Wow!” You shake your head, looking into the cup as though expecting it to contain flames. “This one... raspberry?”

“Who knows?” She yanks her arm free and begins to stagger off. “I found two men making Moonshine outside of Rhodes. Think they’re experimentin’, or at least that’s what Arthur said.” She hiccups and laughs at you as the world begins to spin.

“Y/N, are you ok?”

“Sure,” you say, trying to blink your way back to single vision. Taking a deep breath, you squeeze your eyes closed and reopen them. Mary Beth and Tilly are looking at you with concern. Mrs Adler’s face is unreadable. You can feel your cheeks burning, but also feel the confidence blossoming in your chest. “Yes. I’m fine.”

“Have you had moonshine before?” asks Tilly with concern. “It’s strong stuff.”

“A couple of times,” you admit, smiling despite yourself. None of the women look best impressed, but Karen rescues you, wrapping her arm over your shoulders after an about turn and drags you back to the party.

“Have all of you met my friend, Y/N?” she slurs.

“You’ve been with us two days now, is that right?” asks Charles gently. You nod, cheeks still scorching hot. You spot the brooding figure stood at the back of the group and somehow your cheeks grow hotter still. The distance allows you to see him in his entirety - his legs thickening at the thigh from the horse riding, the faded blue shirt tucked in at his narrow hips and stretching up to the thick broad shoulders. The crackle of the fire reflects in his eyes, and suddenly it’s not just your cheeks that are uncomfortably warm.

You don’t resist as Karen pushes another bottle into your hand.

“Who was it that found you?” asks Lenny.

“I wasn’t found as much as-”

You’re interrupted by a snort. “LENNAAAAY!” cries out Arthur suddenly.

Lenny groans. “Oh, not that again!”

He laughs that loud laugh to the group, staggering over to clamp a hand on the young man’s shoulders. “Here, we go out for one drink and I swear the next day the bartender tells me I asked every single person in the saloon if they were Lenny.” He doubles over. “But most of ‘em were white! And half of ‘em were women!”

“It hurt to find out what you think of me, Arthur,” teases Lenny.

Charles is watching the blonde man as he staggers, trying to calm himself down. “How much has he had to drink?” he asks no one in particular.

“Oi! Karen!”

“Uh oh,” giggles Karen, elbowing you.

“Where’s me moonshine gone?”

“Your moonshine?” Hosea intercepts Sean before he can reach you. “I think you’ll find that moonshine was camp supplies!”

“Yeah, Sean! Camp supplies.” She lifts your hand holding the bottle. “Thought you liked sharing?”

“Miss Jones.” Hosea turns around, voice stern. “Is that my moonshine?”

“No, sir,” she answers sweetly. “S’camp’s moonshine.”

He rolls his eyes as she takes another big swig, sloshes some into your cup and throws the rest onto the fire which immediately burns up. You can’t help but laugh at the degree of disapproval radiating from him. Taking the opportunity of your mouth agape, she tips the cup into your mouth and makes you swallow.

“First rule of drinkin’ is to never drink alone,” she states proudly.

“I feel like you’re supposed to ask first,” you gasp.

“Nah, that’s how you end up stuck in camp. If you want something, you have to go get it!”

“Mr Matthews!” squawks Miss Grimshaw from her bed. “God help you if you do not get that girl to bed!” “Shut up you old hag!” Karen retorts, stumbling as Hosea leads her away.

“Apologies, Miss Grimshaw. I’m on it!”

Blinking you realise you are the only one standing this side of the fire. The men are quiet, watching the flames eat at the logs, each of them in their own head. You can feel something watching you, and when you look up, you spot the same cowboy staring at you. As you lock eyes, he blinks and shakes his head as though coming to his senses. 

With a big sigh, he ambles towards the shoreline, dropping his beer on the ground as he passes. The world is swirling, but without his eyes on you, you suddenly feel invisible. Taking a deep breath, you follow him as best you can. You aren’t graceful and you certainly aren’t quiet, but the sound of deep sleep comes from the tents you have to pass, undisturbed even when you almost fall on top of them.

When he reaches the water he stops and leans his head back, looking up to the night sky. “You fool, Arthur Morgan,” he mumbles. “Why’d you have to be such an idiot? No wonder the women hate yer.”

You clear your throat and he flinches so hard, he almost falls over. You apologise, rushing forward to catch him. He grasps your outstretched arms and somehow manages to right himself. It takes a moment to realise you’re still holding on to one another.

“I’m sorry about before,” you begin, dropping your arms.

He mirrors you, shaking his head. “Nah, s’my fault. I ain’t ever been the best drunk.”

“I’m- I don’t mean that. I’m just…” You force yourself to take a deep breath.

“Listen, it was my mistake. There’s a lot going on, we gotta lotta plates spinnin’ and then I saw you, and...” He trails off, looking out at the water, sighing sadly. “I’m sorry for jumpin’ on yer like tha’.”

You follow his gaze out across the shore, listening to the waves lap gently over themselves. Dark smudges of geese fly through the moonlight and into the wisps of clouds that are starting to crawl in across the inky sky. Somewhere a laughing gull cries out, repeating itself like a grandfather clock on the hour.

“We’ve had… a lot to drink.” You close your eyes, but the world spins. He must see you wobble, because a hand touches your back before your eyes open again. You look up to thank him and find his eyes tracing your lips. You realise you’re biting your lip.

With a deep breath you straighten yourself up out of his arms. He doesn’t stop you, if anything it snaps him out of his trance.

“We’ve had a lot to drink and I don’t want to give you the wrong idea.”

“O’course, Miss. I understand.”

You turn your head to look up at him, to learn more about the stranger, but instead you find yourself staring at the muscles in his arms and the soft halo surrounding them. You swallow, and try to drag your gaze upwards, but you’ve already seen the bulge in his trousers, and you don’t make it to his face before noticing the skin radiating from the top of his shirt. His chest, his shoulders, his entire torso looks strong. You wonder if it feels the way it looks…

“You were saying, Miss?”

You feel the words vibrate through your fingers and rumble right down your arm. It takes a moment for the sound to wake you, and when it does you realise your mouth is open and your hand has found its way into the V of his shirt.

He’s already looking down at you. You feel the pulse of desire between your hips and the warmth spread as his grey gaze transfixes you. “Y/N?”

Grabbing his upper arm in one hand and his neck in the other, you pull yourself up to kiss him square on the mouth. With no need for encouragement, he returns the pressure, pulling you flush against his body.

Your body purrs as his trousers tense against your skirts, and a groan escapes your chest as his teeth brush your neck. Your head falls back, your lungs already panting, your nails dig into his shirt. When something brushes the back of your head, you open your eyes to see that you’ve moved a little away out of sight of those still at the fireside. He has you pressed up against the wall of eroded dirt, kissing you deeply, squeezing your breasts and you accept his worship.

His hair is thick between your fingers and you hook your leg around him to pull him closer. The move takes him by surprise, but he recovers quickly, providing you the weight you yearned for. He returns the motion, one hand breaking free from between you and rustling up your skirts in search of your ass.

You lower your leg and shove him hard in the chest. He falls back, confused until your undergarments land beside his head. You try to dispose of his trousers the same way, but the suspenders won’t allow you access. Realising your intentions, he pulls them off of his shoulders, cradling your head in both hands as he continues to nibble your lip, your hands fumbling over his union suit.

Coming up for air frustrates you until you see his exposed chest. You trace your fingers over his skin as his grip moves to your hips, pulling you down onto that bulge.

“Get this thing off me now or so help me,” you moan. Eager to obey, he pulls the waistband of your skirt, making it crack as the buttons pop off. With help, you manage to lift the skirt over your head, your blouse already unbuttoned half way.

He pulls his arms free from the cotton as you tug his trousers from his legs, his feet wrestling clumsily as he tries to kick off his boots. You try to scoop the loose change back into his pockets, but he’s pulled you back on top of him, kissing you again, his hands exploring your exposed skin and tugging at the strings of your corset. You try to help him, but the thick member rubbing against the inside of your thigh wipes any pre-existing intentions

Your entire body stiffens as he slips inside you with a long guttural groan. Suddenly the urgency has dissipated and is replaced with a low throbbing tremor deep into your core. Instinct forces your hips to grind deeper onto him, forcing air out of your lungs to make room.

You can feel yourself building, feel his fingers digging into the bare flesh of your hips, your pelvises trying to make contact with each other. You lift your arms behind your head, stretching your upper body as though somehow you can make more room for him inside you and cram more of him in. He pushes your body up and brings you slamming back down before you can object, and you feel it again, the throbbing of your core as he slowly bounces you over his shaft, groaning.

Before the bubble can burst, he throws you off. You open your mouth to argue, but he’s scrambling to his knees, reaching for your hips and pulling you back into him. You don’t really understand until you’re on all fours and he pushes himself back inside. He begins to build up speed, and you can feel his balls slapping against your clit. You don’t know what to do with yourself, he’s hitting all your sweet spots, your hands reaching for anything to hold onto, but instead returning fistfulls of dirt, sand and seaweed.

Your eyes roll as the bubble of pleasure which has grown ever larger inside you bursts. You can feel your muscles squeezing, then pulsing and squeezing again as though milking him. You can hear him choking at the sensation and as the edge of your orgasm softens, you push back hard and pull away, lengthening each stroke.

Arthur cries out into the night as he empties himself of weeks of pressure. You can feel it pouring into you, feel him twitching against your walls, and you lean back greedily. Eventually there is nothing other than your shared panting. No snoring, no birds, barely any tide.

You land on your front, exhausted. A muffled thud confirms Arthur has also hit the ground. You can barely summon the energy to lift your eyelids - the orgasm far exceeds anything you have achieved on your own or past partners.

Eventually you roll onto your back. The purple of the night is retreating in favour of violet and soft pinks. Following the colours, you see the first trickles of the sun bleeding over the shrine of the camp. You let it wash over you, feel it cleansing your spirit.

Wondering if Arthur is still breathing, you lift your head. He is also watching the serene sunrise, tranquility smoothing the lines of his face.

The bark of a dog snaps you back to reality. People are stirring in camp and you are as good as naked on the beach. As though summoned by the horror, a chuckle ripples over the water.

“Have yourselves a good evening?” asks a man rowing past. You grab your skirts and whatever else is at hand and flee.

************

“What were you thinking?”

Arthur groans, pulling the blanket over his face, but it gets yanked straight back to his waist. “Not now. Please, Hosea.”

“Not now? Put your trousers back on, boy, before there’s a mutiny!”

He tries to reach to see if there’s evidence for the battering, but he vomits spectacularly over the edge of the bed.

“What the devil took over you last night? You! Of all people!”�� Arthur is barely able to breath between retches, the remnants of the moonshine, spirits and bile, splashing against the crates. “You take the one girl here without a history and- what’re you doing over here? Go find your mother!”

“Calm down, she’ll get paid,” he groans, wiping his mouth as a loud giggle knocks another nail into his brain..

“Why has Uncle Arthur got his bottom out?”

“Ooft, mark the day, young Jack! Eyewitness accounts report that the sun does not, in fact, shine out of Arthur Morgan’s arse cheeks! Who’d’ve thunk!”

“Mr Macguire, make yourself useful and take the boy with you! And tell the women to stay the other side of camp too!”

“Aw, but they’re already gigglin’ about it.”

“No one will be gigglin’ when I’m finished! Now git!”

“Alrigh’, alrigh’, keep your pants on!” Sean’s cackle splits Arthur’s head open. He tries to move the blanket, awareness creeping in amongst the hangover as the infamous chortle sounds.

“Not you too, Dutch. Go see to the women.”

“My boy, you have royally outdone yourself this time.” His laughter booms off the trees. “Come along, Miss O’Shea, nothing to see here.”

“I think a lot of t’girls will disagree with you there, Dutch.”

“Especially Y/N if the stories are true!”

“Ain’t no stories to be tellin’! Everybody heard them!”

“Shee-yit.” Arthur groans, his memory hissing at the scratch marks on his back..

“Trousers on. Now. Before more people come ogling.” The chest by his feet creaks open, and clothes begin to rain on him. “And for the love of God, sort out the mess you made on the shore! Last thing we need is Pinkerton’s following the trail of bloomers to camp!”

He sits up with a grunt, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand, eyes squinting at the bright light of the tent. Hosea kicks a lone worn boot away from the puddle, cursing.

“A little privacy?”

“Don’t make me laugh! You might not be a teenager, but I’ll throw you out by your ear!”

“What’s your problem?”

“My problem?” The old man gestures to the heavens. “Where to start? Disrupting the camp with your racket! Littering belongings for others to find! Playing buckaroo with the girl who’s here for her protection!”

“Her protection?” He scoffs, his hands shaking too much to button his shirt, but his stomach sinks.

“She didn’t tell you?”

He winces. “We didn’t do much talking,” he admits.

“Dutch found her robbing the trailers just above Rhodes. He was going to give her a ride home - to that run down place, Lonnie’s Shack - but Sean had scoped it that morning. Said some bandits rocked up and took out the father living there before setting up camp. So Dutch brought her here instead.”

“Bet you’re going to say she’s not even a whore at this rate,” he groans, trying to push himself off the bed, but the sight of his adopted father’s scowl knocks him back. “You’ve gotta be kiddin’ me.”

“Get up and clean up, mister!” Hosea kicks the chest and stalks away. “Before I give Bill his gelding tongs back!”

[gaygent37]

Calling the Wolf Within - JayDick

I had a lot of hope going into this. I got 4k words in, and just lost interest, so here you go. As per usual, no porn :/ because it would’ve taken another few thousand words to get to that actual porn, and a few thousand to wrap it up afterwards, and that was too long for me. So I scrapped it and wrote the other werewolf fic instead. Also it just started getting strange.

5,021 words, JayDick, werewolf Jason, human Dick, human Tim, almost kidnapping, almost Stockholm Syndrome, almost mating calls, almost explained why ‘almost’ towards end, fluff, borderline crack at time, h/c, no idea why Tim is there, OOC Tim, it’s a mess

For the past week and a half, Dick would hear shuffling in the woods behind his cottage. The first couple of times, he took it as a family of rabbits or raccoons looking for a place to live, but when the heard a tree crack and fall, Dick knew it was something much bigger.

His neighbors said it could be a bear or perhaps a mountain lion that had come down from the mountains. So Dick called the local ranger to take a gander.

“I dunno what to tell ya, kid,” the ranger said, shaking his head at the tree and the large muddy footprints that appeared last night. “Ya see these tracks?” he asked, pointing to the paws in the mud. “I grew up in Wyoming, so I’ seen my share o’ wolf tracks. And if I were to guess, I’d say it’s one hellava wolf ya’ve got there.”

“W-Wolf?” Dick asked faintly. “But Mr. and Mrs. Hanks said there are no wolves in this area.”

The ranger nodded and tipped his hat. “There ain’t.”

Dick nodded slowly, like the ranger was making complete sense. “Okay, so there’s a huge wolf coming around the woods and making a mess near my house every night. What do you propose I do?”

“Wolf of this size?” he chuckled humorlessly, nodding at the tracks. “Ain’t no shotgun in the world that could make a dent in this thing, so I’d move the hell out. Well, that or call in the military. This is way outta my jurisdiction.”

“But you’re supposed to deal with these kinds of things in this area!” Dick said in frustration. “You can’t expect everyone to just move out when there’s a problem to can’t handle! Think of something!”

The ranger stood and scratched his head. “Well, I gotta friend a state over who specializes in catching these kinda beasts. He might have an extra-large bear trap or two?”

“Yes!” Dick said in relief. “Please call him.”

“You got it, kid.” The ranger stepped away for a few minutes to call his friend.

Dick shoved his hands into his pocket with a sigh, looking around the forest. He could see his cottage no more than thirty paces from the fallen tree and the tracks. There were also snapped branches and a dried bloody trail leading to a chicken carcass, more signs of the large animal that had popped up throughout the past week.

Dick shivered slightly and glanced over at the ranger, who was laughing into his phone. Suddenly, he shivered, a chill running over him. Dick glanced around again, but nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary in the sunny forest.

“Good news!” the ranger said, jogging back over. “My friend said he could come with a couple of his huntin’ buddies! Bad news, they can’t come until the weekend.”

“The weekend?” Dick asked. “That’s- That’s not for another four days.”

The ranger gave him a shrug.

Dick took a deep breath. “Okay. I- I guess I’ll just pack some stuff and go stay at the town inn until then. I don’t want to be up here alone when there’s that giant… whatever it is, running around.”

The ranger smiled. “That’s the spirit, kid! Want me to give you a ride into town?”

“Nah,” Dick said. “I need to do some packing first. I’ll head over first thing tomorrow morning.”

Dick awoke to the sound of his downstairs window breaking. Immediately, his hand went to his phone, which was charging on the bedside table. There were several more crashes and the banging of pots clashing, the sound of something very large moving through Dick’s tiny kitchen.

Dick slid off his bed and rolled under it in one smooth moment. He dialed 911 immediately and pressed the phone to his ear, his breathing erratic and loud. His eyes were pinned to his bedroom door, which was cracked open slightly.

“911, what’s your emergency?”

“Someone broke into my house,” Dick whispered.

“Okay, and where are they now?”

“In my house,” Dick repeated, barely daring to speak.

“And where are you, sir?”

“I’m- I’m hiding, under my bed. Can you- Can you please send a squad? With guns.” Dick tensed even more when he heard the bottom stair creak, louder than it has ever creaked before. “Please.”

“Is there only one person?” There was another creak. The second step. Then a third.

“I don’t know!” Dick hissed. “They’re- They’re making a lot of noise, and they’re coming up the stairs!”

“Okay, stay calm, sir. I’m going to-” Suddenly, there was loud thump, right outside his bedroom door. Whatever it was, had jumped eight entire steps up to the second floor. Dick shoved his phone underneath him and pressed his hand tightly to his mouth, not even daring to breathe.

His bedroom door was nosed open. Literally nosed open. The first thing that appeared was a huge snout. The nose twitched a couple of times before the rest of the beast entered the room as well.

Dick’s eyes grew wider, and he felt like his heart was going to pound out of his chest in fear. He could only see the huge paws of the creature, but it took up all the space in Dick’s room. Its tail knocked over Dick’s lamp, and the glass of watch he always set by his bed.

A soft growl filled the air and the creature shifted, stretching down so that its head was pressed against the ground. Golden eyes met his, and Dick let out the tiniest of squeaks.

The last thing Dick heard when he fainted was the emotionless calls of “Sir? Sir? Are you still there? Please stay on the line. We’re sending someone over right now.”

“…look! You scratched up his face!” There was a growl and a snapping of teeth. “Damn, that’s gotta hurt… Oh, wait, I think he’s waking up!”

Dick blinked his eyes open slowly, feeling dizzy and disoriented. The first thing he saw was the smiling face of a young teenager.

“Hullo,” the boy said. “You alright?”

“Where the hell… am I?” Dick asked, looking around. Everywhere he looked, he just saw jagged stone.

The boy gave a light laugh. “I couldn’t tell you,” he said. “Some cave in the middle of nowhere, probably.”

There was a snuffle and a growl from somewhere behind the boy.

Dick craned his neck and peered behind him. His eyes widened, and he tensed. The largest wolf Dick had ever seen was curled up lazily against the opposite wall, its head resting in its paws, and it was staring at Dick.

“Oh my god,” Dick said hoarsely. “I’m having a nightmare.”

“That’s what I thought too, at first,” the boy said, strangely cheerfully. “But you’ll get used to it.”

“What?” Dick asked, staring at the teen like he was crazy.

“Oh, I should introduce myself,” the boy said. He held out his hand. “I’m Tim.”

Dick stared at Tim’s hand for the longest time. He looked over at the wolf again. Then, he took Tim’s hand. “Dick… my name’s Dick,” he said very slowly, unsure of what was going on.

“So, where are you from, Dick?” Tim asked.

“Um… Brighton Springs… in Pennsylvania,” Dick said.

“Never heard of it,” Tim said.

“It’s a small town,” Dick said absently. “Wha- What about you? What are you doing here?” He kept a cautious eye on the wolf.

“Los Angeles,” Tim said.

“California?”

“Yup,” Tim said. “My parents were in Pittsburg for business, and I tagged along. Didn’t know I’d be kidnapped by a giant wolf though.” Tim laughed.

“Wait, you were- you were taken by- by that too?”

Tim nodded.

“And- And you’re not freaked out by it?!” Dick exclaimed.

“I was,” Tim said. “I’ve been here two weeks though, so I’ve had time to get used to it. Besides, Wolfie isn’t bad at all.”

“Wolfie.”

Tim grinned. “Yeah. I couldn’t keep calling him ‘it’ or ‘the wolf’. And I don’t think he really minds anyway. Isn’t that right, Wolfie?”

Wolfie yawned and flicked his tail.

“Oh my god, I’m stuck in a cave with a giant wolf and a crazy kid,” Dick muttered. “What the ever-loving fuck.”

“Hey, I’m not a kid,” Tim said. “I’m seventeen.”

“Seven- You look no older than thirteen!”

Tim gave him an annoyed look. “Right, and I guess you’d assume I also attend high school and nerd out over video games with my friends at lunch.”

Dick blinked at him. “…Do you not?”

Tim threw his hands in the air. “Oh my god, the people of this world! I’ll have you know that I’m in my sophomore year of college! At Cal Tech!”

Dick squinted at him. “And you still named the wolf… Wolfie?”

Tim huffed. “I- Okay, fine, it’s a stupid name! My parents never let me have a dog because my mom’s allergic, and I’ve always wanted one, and I wanted to name it Doggie, so sue me if I’m living my childhood dream a bit!”

“That’s not a dog, Tim. That thing can eat you up in one bite!” Dick said.

“But he hasn’t!” Tim shouted.

“Doesn’t mean he won’t!”

“Holy shit, Wolfie, you’ve picked up the most annoying person ever!” Tim yelled. “You get him out of here, or I’m leaving!”

“You know what? I don’t want to be here anyway!” Dick fumed back. He stood up and shoved Tim out of the way and started storming towards the exit.

In a flash, Wolfie was on his feet and in front of Dick in a threatening stance, lips pulled back in a growl. He snapped his teeth at Dick.

“Wha- What’s he doing?” Dick said, taking a step back. Wolfie took step forward.

Dick stepped back again. Wolfie continued to follow, growling and snapping his teeth. “Tim, call him off!”

“He doesn’t listen to me,” Tim grumbled. “Besides, you yelled at me, so I don’t think I’m going to help you.”

Tim sat down, crossed his legs, and produced a bag of chips from somewhere. He popped it open and started eating, watching as Dick was slowly being cornered against the cave wall.

“S-Seriously, I- I think he’s going to eat me!” Dick whimpered, his back pressed tightly against the cold stone.

Wolfie opened his mouth wide, and Dick screamed, his knees giving out as he curled up in a ball, waiting for the inevitable.

Suddenly, there was a heavy floomph of air and fur tickled Dick’s nose. He waited a few more seconds before opening his eyes.

He was still curled up against the wall, but now, Wolfie was sprawled in front of him, on his back, giant legs up in the air.

“What’s- What’s he doing?” Dick asked, pulling himself in tighter.

“Making sure you don’t try running away again,” Tim said, licking his fingers. “And asking for belly rubs. He likes the spot under his chin the best.”

“Huh?!”

“Rub his belly,” Tim said.

Dick stared at Tim like the boy was crazy. But Tim did not seem like he was kidding, and the way Wolfie was lying, it really did seem like a dog waiting for belly rubs.

Wolfie turned his head towards Dick, his golden eyes wide. And holy shit, he looked sad.

“Stop- Stop that,” Dick said weakly. “I thought you were going to eat me.”

Wolfie let out a whine and wiggled even closer.

Dick stared at him for a couple more seconds before giving in to the puppy-dog eyes. He placed his trembling hand on Wolfie’s stomach, pushing down several inches of fur, which were surprising soft.

Very tentatively, Dick moved his hand back and forth. Wolfie gave a rumble of pleasure.

“Oh my god, he likes it,” Dick said in a near-hysterical voice.

“Told you,” Tim said smugly, opening his second bag of chips. “Get the spot under his chin.”

Dick looked over at Wolfie’s head, which was arched back in response. “Er, how? I’m stuck here.”

“Climb on top of him,” Tim said. “And use both hands.”

Dick was not keen on the idea of climbing onto Wolfie’s stomach, but after another brief stare down with the sad golden eyes, Dick uncurled himself and slowly put one leg over Wolfie’s stomach, straddling him.

Then, Dick slowly pulled himself up until his legs were behind Wolfie’s front legs, and he could comfortably reach over and scratch under Wolfie’s chin.

Dick took a deep breath and reached forward. Suddenly, he was slammed down flat against Wolfie’s chest, his face pressed into the soft fur. He could feel Wolfie’s giant legs wrapped around him.

“Aww, he wants a hug,” Tim laughed. “Lucky you, Dick. I’ve never gotten a hug before.”

Dick struggled, trying to put himself up, but Wolfie’s hold was strong. Eventually, Dick gave up when Wolfie did not seem to move. So Dick just lay there, half-scared, half-confused, with his ear pressed to Wolfie’s heartbeat.

The steady ba-dump, ba-dump, ba-dump, eventually lulled him off to sleep.

It took a bit of getting used to, but like Tim said, he got used to it. Mostly.

Four days into his capture, Dick awoke to his face being gently licked by a soft tongue. “No…” he groaned, pushing away Wolfie’s snout.

Wolfie snuffled and licked Dick again, this time, getting under his neck.

“That tickles,” Dick grimaced, his eyes still stubbornly screwed shut. “Go wake Tim first.”

“I’m already awake, dummy. You need to get up and make us food. I can’t cook for shit.”

Dick groaned and rolled over, pulling the blankets over his head, burrowing deeper into his bed. His “bed” consisted of large scraps of very soft material and larger, thicker scraps for blankets.

Wolfie hooked a paw around Dick’s waist and turned him over like it was nothing. Dick whined, but he eventually sat up and got breakfast going.

Dick had no idea where all the household items or any of the food was coming from. They just appeared out of nowhere, when neither Dick nor Tim was paying attention. The perishables were still cold.

“Bacon! Bacon! Bacon!” Tim chanted.

“Okay, okay,” Dick said with a laugh as Wolfie nudged him all the way to the fire pit.

Breakfast did not take long to cook up – as much bacon as either of them could take, and a large helping of eggs. Wolfie had the habit of nipping at the their fingers for bacon scraps, which would have terrified Dick before, but now, he found it endearing.

It was strange how quickly his mindset changed in four days.

“Hey,” Dick said after swallowing the last of his eggs. “You’ve been here for nearly three weeks now, right? Did you ever take a shower?”

Tim gasped, his eyes lighting up. “Can we go to the swimming hole?” he practically squealed.

“Swimming hole?” Dick asked, glancing at Wolfie, who usually curled around the two of them during breakfast.

“Yeah! There’s this huge swimming hole by here. A waterfall and everything!” Tim said excitedly. “I’ve been there a few times so far, to wash and then swim.”

“That… That sounds perfect,” Dick said. It also sounded like a way to scout his surroundings and gauge where the hell he was.

Not long after breakfast, Dick found himself standing in front of a large pool of water that very gradually became deeper, deepest at the waterfall.

“Wow,” Dick said.

“I know,” Tim said, already splashing into the water. “It’s fucking cold though!” He ran out of the water again, laughing.

“Get in here!” Dick said, splashing water at Tim.

“Hey!” Tim ran back in, sending a wave of water crashing into Dick.

Dick dunked himself under the water before coming up. “Hah! You missed.”

Wolfie lay down at the edge, content in just watching. At some point, he fell asleep. That was when Dick grabbed Tim and pulled him in.

“I’m gonna go climb the waterfall,” he whispered.

“Wh-What?” Tim asked, confused. “Why?”

“Duh, to see what’s up there. To see how far away we are from anything. Maybe I can signal help or something,” Dick said.

Tim looked completely baffled. “Are you crazy?” he asked.

Dick’s expression darkened. “What, you think we can actually stay here with that wolf forever?”

“Well, I-”

“Grow up, Tim, this isn’t some fantasy world. He kidnapped us. I’m going to climb that waterfall. And you’re going to distract him if he wakes up.”

With that, Dick dunked himself under the water and started swimming towards the base of the waterfall. Up close, the roar of the water was louder, but it was not a particularly large waterfall, only about twelve feet up. The rocks that made the wall were at a convenient slant. The only issue was that they were mossy and slick.

Dick pulled himself up onto the first rock, shivering as the air hit his wet body. Still, he continued climbing. A couple of times, his foot slipped, but he was nearly to the top.

Suddenly, he heard Tim yell, “Wolfie, no!”

Dick turned around and saw Wolfie leap from the shore into the water, completely clearing Tim’s head. Dick gritted his teeth and climbed a little faster.

Just as he was about to reach the top, Dick looked back down and saw Wolfie at the base of the waterfall. His front legs were on the bottom rock, but he made no attempt to climb. He just watched Dick with those sad golden eyes.

Dick had to turn away. Finally, with quite some effort, Dick made it to the top of the waterfall. He was very disappointed to find just more forest all around him. For a second, he considered running away, but he thought about Tim – the city boy who could not cook, ate nothing but chips, and was an all-around mess of a human being – and he could not bear to.

With a sigh, Dick turned around again, standing at the top of the waterfall, looking down at Tim. He gave the boy a little wave. Wolfie gave a whimper and a howl, patting the rock he was hanging onto. Dick understood that Wolfie wanted him to climb back down.

Dick gave a tiny smile and shook his head. “Watch this!” he called. He back up a few steps, took a running start, and leapt off the edge.

He did a total of two flips before hitting the water perfectly. It was quite exhilarating. Dick did not get a chance to enjoy the moment because he was suddenly being propelled toward the surface, his body being pushed by the nose of an extra-large canine.

Dick laughed as he broke the surface, allowing Wolfie to swim him back to the shore.

“Dick!” Tim said, splashing over. “Are you okay? I thought you were going to break your neck doing that!”

“I was on the dive team in high school, Timbo,” Dick said, sitting up. “I’m fine.”

“Well, I didn’t know that! It was scary, but also kind of cool.”

Wolfie obviously did not agree. He nudged Dick further onto the shore with rough flicks of his nose. When Dick was a good distance from the water, Wolfie started sniffing and licking him all over.

“W-Wolfie! That’s- That’s completely unnecessary,” Dick said. “I’m fine!”

Wolfie ignored him and continued with his sniffing and licking, occasionally letting whines from his throat. Finally, Dick succumbed to the mother hen treatment, just lying there and allowing Wolfie to turn him this way and that, checking for the tiniest of scratches.

When Wolfie was at last satisfied, he let his head drop down by Dick’s body, his eyes boring into Dick’s, sad and vulnerable.

“Look, you made upset him,” Tim chided. “He thought you were going to get hurt.”

Dick sighed and gave Wolfie a wry smile. “Sorry about that,” he said, patting Wolfie’s head. “I’ll tell you next time.”

Wolfie moved his head from side to side.

Dick raised his eyebrows. It was the first actual response he had gotten from Wolfie.

“I won’t do it at all next time?” he said slowly.

Wolfie huffed and moved his snout onto Dick’s legs, demanding more pets.

It was the full moon, the first one since Tim or Dick had been taken.

In the middle of the night, Dick was nudged awake.

“Stop it, Timmy,” Dick grumbled, pulling the covers closer.

“No, Dick, get up. I want to show you something.”

“’m sleeping.”

“Please, Dickie. You’ll like it.”

Finally, after some more grumbling and insistence, Dick opened his eyes. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the scant bits of moonlight that filtered into the cave and to register the face hovering above his.

It was not Tim.

Dick blinked several times to make sure he was not dreaming. He turned his head to the side and realized that Tim was still asleep in the bed next to him, cocooned tightly in his blankets.

“Who are you?” Dick asked. He slowly sat up, looking around the cave. Wolfie was nowhere to be seen.

The strange man grinned took Dick’s hand. “I want to show you something,” he repeated.

“Huh?” Dick, still not fully awake, stumbled to his feet, tugged along by the man. “Wait, who are you? Where’s- Where’s Wolfie?”

It was bizarre for Dick to be exiting the cave without Wolfie trotting behind him or Tim chattering loudly by his side. The moon was large and bright above them, lighting the way.

It was then that Dick noticed that the man was also completely naked, running barefoot through the forest.

“Hurry up, Dickie!” the man would occasionally turn and say.

“How do you know my name?” Dick asked, though none of his questions were ever answered.

Dick felt like they had been running for miles by the time they stopped. Dick had no idea where they were, nor did he have any idea who was leading him. Perhaps it was just a very realistic dream.

“Look,” the man said, pointing in front of them. Dick gasped softly when he saw the cabin. It looked like a rich person’s vacation cabin, three stories tall and very large. “Do you… like it?” the man asked.

Dick looked at him. “I don’t- I don’t understand,” he said. “Who are you? What is this place?”

“Home,” the man said with a smile. He stepped closer. “Home, Dickie.”

Dick got a good look at the man. He was a bit taller than Dick, with black hair and blue eyes and a deliciously sharp jawline. The rest of his body, which Dick may or may not have been admiring to distract himself from the burning of his lungs, was just as attractive.

“Is this your house?” Dick asked.

“Mine, yours, Timmy’s, ours,” the man said. “I want to show you the inside.”

“I don’t- what?” Dick asked, having no choice but to follow the man.

The inside of the cabin was gorgeous as well. The rich, dark wood gave the cabin a warm feel to it, and it was comfortably furnished as well. But the man ignored all of that in favor of pulling Dick up the stairs.

He pulled Dick into the first room on the second floor.

“What’s this?” Dick asked, looking around. It looked like a typical master bedroom.

“It’s our bedroom,” the man said proudly.

“…I’m sorry, did you say our?”

The man nodded.

“I don’t get it,” Dick said helplessly. “Can you please just tell me who you are?”

The man’s smile faded a little. “I’m your mate.”

“Mate?”

“I’ll take care of you and make sure you’re safe and happy,” the man said. He stepped forward, pulling Dick closer by slipping an arm around Dick’s waist. If Dick were not beyond confused by his situation, he would not have minded so much.

“I don’t even know you!” Dick said.

The man leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to the back of Dick’s jaw. “You know me,” he whispered in Dick’s ear. “I’ve taken care of you and Timmy.”

Just like that, it clicked, though it made no sense either. “You’re- You’re Wolfie?”

“Jason,” the man said. “My name’s Jason.” The kisses trailed to Dick’s cheek, edging closer to his lips. “I’m a werewolf.”

“Werewolf… like- like vampires and werewolves,” Dick said, unable to wrap his head around it.

Jason pulled back, his expression puzzled. “N…o? Just werewolf. I don’t know any vampires. They usually congregate in the South.”

“Oh! How convenient,” Dick said as a hysterical giggle bubbled up his throat. “I was kidnapped by a werewolf who now thinks I’m his mate.”

Jason stepped back this time, his face contorted in a frown. “I didn’t kidnap you,” he said, his voice low. “You called me.”

“What?! That’s ridiculous!” Dick said. “Why- Why would I call you?”

“I don’t know,” Jason snapped. “You sat at your window every time for two weeks, calling to me! You told me to take you away.”

“I would never do that!” Dick said, a chill running through him.

Jason looked hurt. His arms crossed in front of him, defensive. “You did, though.”

“No, I didn’t,” Dick insisted. “I had a good life, and I didn’t need someone to ‘take me away’ from it. All you did was ruin my life by kidnapping me!”

Jason recoiled, stepping backwards again. “You don’t want to be my mate?” he asked.

“No!”

“Fine.” Jason turned and started walking away.

“Where the hell are you going?” Dick demanded. “You’re just going to leave me here?”

“You can have this place,” Jason growled. “I don’t need it anymore now that I don’t have a mate.” He stormed down the stairs, heading for the front door. “I’m going back to Tim.”

“He’s just a kid!” Dick shouted. “Even if you didn’t kidnap me, you certainly took him!”

Jason jerked the door open and turned for a second. “I did not! He found me! He followed me! He threatened to tell authorities where I was hiding if I didn’t take him in!”

“What?” Dick asked. “But- But why did he lie then?”

Jason just gave him one more withering glare before slamming the door behind him. Dick ran to the window, and all he saw was the flash of a large wolf’s tail before the dark forest was all that surrounded him.

That night, Dick tried to sleep, but he could not, tossing and turning on the couch. The next night, it got worse. Dick could not even find a comfortable position to lie still in. The third night, Dick spent pacing, exhausted but unable to rest.

Something just felt wrong. He just felt distinctly uncomfortable everywhere, despite it not being physical. Dick felt like he was going crazy.

On the fourth day, Dick crawled into the bed on the second floor master bedroom and sobbed for an hour straight before falling asleep. He slept through the night for the first time. But the next night, he kept waking up. By the end of the week, Dick could not sleep at all again.

He had taken to sitting by the window, staring forlornly out into the forest. Dick had no idea what was bothering him so much, nor did he know what he was searching for.

At the start of the second week, Dick propped the window open, his head resting on the windowsill as he stared into the forest.

“I miss you,” he whispered to the silent trees. “I’m lonely. Please come back.”

Not even the breeze answered.

Dick felt warmer than he had all week. The warmth was surrounding him completely, and Dick reached out for more, his hands grabbing fistfuls of the warmth and pulled himself closer.

Then the warmth moved, curling tighter around Dick. It made him inexplicably happy.

Dick’s eyes snapped open to find that he was pressed against a very furry mass. There was a large paw curled around his waist as well, keeping him close.

Dick pushed himself up as much as he could. “Wolfie?” he whispered, recognizing the dozing wolf. He also recognized the cave he had spent much of the past month in. On his other side, Tim was sprawled on his chest, starfish style.

Dick smiled, unable to help the flood of relief that ran through him. He was back, like the past week was just some terrible nightmare.

He lay back down, snuggling even closer and fell asleep again.

---

The second that morning broke, Dick was shoved awake by Tim.

“Where the hell were you?!” he demanded.

“Wha…?”

“You disappeared in the middle of the night, and Wolfie was worried sick! And he was depressed without you here. And I missed you too, you idiot!”

Dick sat up only to be hugged tightly by Tim. He patted Tim’s back and looked around the cave, his eyes lingering on Wolfie, who was sitting by the entrance, his tail flopped over his eyes.

“How… How did I get back here?” Dick asked.

“Wolfie brought you back,” Tim said. “He’s just been moping around the cave all day and night, and then last night, he just perked up and took off into the forest. When he came back, you were asleep on his back.”

“Oh,” Dick said, looking back at Wolfie. He extracted himself from Tim and hesitantly walked over there. “Hey,” he said, sitting down next to the wolf’s head. Dick took Wolfie’s tail away. “I’m sorry I worried you. I don’t… I don’t know if you can understand all of what I’m saying when you’re… um, in this form, but thank you. For coming back for me.

“I don’t really know what going on, but I just know I missed you a lot. Timmy too, but…” Dick trailed off, looking into Wolfie’s golden eyes. “Do you know what I’m saying?”

Wolfie stared at him. Then, he raised his head and licked Dick’s cheek.

“Okay,” Dick said. “I guess I’ll talk to you more when you… I don’t know, change back or something?”

He got another lick.

“Alright then,” Dick said with a small smile. He sat down and leaned against Wolfie’s side, finally feeling at peace.

[kaz11283]

Your 5, Sam is 6, and Dean is 10.

~~~

My first real attempt at this whole this so feed back is appreciated most definitely just dont be to mean. And I'm trying to do this all on mobile / learn everything so I dont have all the fancy bells and whistles like some other fics have.

~~~

Best Friends

Chapter 1

"Now listen here girl, I dont know how long your gonna have to be staying with me this time but I promise your dad will be back soon." Your Uncle Bobby was a little rough around the edges but deep down he had a soft spot for you. "I'm keepin two other brothers also so please try to stay in line." He looked down at you with a look like he knew that wasn't going to happen.

"Boys, gross!" You scrunched up your nose. Boys had cooties, and didn't like the same stuff you did. You hugged your stuffed sloth closer to you. "Can I go inside uncle Bobby?"

"Yeah, the other two knuckle heads are probably in the living room watchin TV. Go on in and I'll be in there in a bit to fix somethin for yall to eat." He watched as you (y/c/h) pigtails bounced as you ran up the stairs. "How did o get myself into this mess? Never in my whole huntin life did I think I would wind up being a babysitter." He said to himself pinching the bridge of his nose.

~~~

"Hi." You squeaked peaking from around the couch to the two boys sitting in front of the TV. "My name is (y/n), what's yours?" The boys both turned to each other and back to you.

"My name is Sam." The shaggy brown haired boy replied. "That's Dean." He said pointing his thumb back at the blonde haired boy.

"Great, another kid, and on top of it a girl." The boy named dean rolled his eyes and went back to watching the cowboy movie that was on.

"Well I dont wanna be stuck here with a bunch of boys either." You said sticking your tongue out at him and running upstairs to your room that you always stayed in while at Bobby's.

"Alright, who's hungry?" Bobby asked walking through the front door. He notice Sam glaring at Dean and no (y/n) in sight. "Ok, who did what?" This was gonna be a long few days.

~~~

A few days turned into a week before Bobby heard anything from the two hunters that left him watching 3 wild Indians. Another week before they were suppose to arrive back home to pick them up.

Sam and (y/n) had clicked almost instantly spending their days exploring the old junk yard looking for bugs and other things to examine. Dean on the other hand stayed up Bobby's rear helping him work on cars and around the garage not wanting anything to do with a 'cootie infested girl'.

"Sam! Look at me I'm queen of the world!" You had climbed on top of one of the old beat up cars over looking the junk yard.

"If your queen I get to be the king." Sam laughed from beside the car.

"Ew no way! I don't need a boy ruling the world with me. I can do it myself." You giggled as Sam tried climbing up there with you. Before you knew it you lost your footing and slipped knocking Sam off too and landing on of him. Dean came running around the corner to see what the commotion was about and seen Sam looking at your knee where there was blood and looked up to see you was crying.

"De it was an accident! She slipped and cur herself pretty bad." Sam all but yelled. Dean grabbed you up and carried you to Bobby. That was the first time the old man had yelled at you and you felt like your heart was completely broken.

After Bobby had bandaged you up and lectured you about climbing on the car you sat on the porch the rest of the day watching the boys help Bobby.

"Hey (y/n) come help out." Dean said walking over to you and grabbing your hand. "I know it sucks getting yelled at by Bobby but, stick around, and I'm sure it won't be the last." He said smiling.

~~~~

I literally have like a thousand ideas bouncing around in my heard right now over this. Help me out. This is just an idea that kept flowing for me. I want there to be more to it. Give me tips and any advice, I'm free to anything at this point starting out.

[theshopislocal]

corinth rains

New and improved Heaven may well be the Happiest Place (not) on Earth. But Dean, it turns out, is still Dean.

(also on AO3)

chapter twelve

Rough bark digs into Dean’s back where it’s pressed against the gnarled oak tree. 

He’s part way up the knoll, a little ways away from the picnic proper. From this vantage point, he can still see everyone - Mary and John on the big blanket, Ellen and Bill at the grill, Jo and her beau du jour swimming lazy circles out in the lake. Eileen sits next to Karen, both engaged in a lively discussion with Bobby, judging by the frenetic hand movements. 

The grass is wet and gleaming - dew, Dean thinks - and while the sun shines bright overhead, Dean’s comfortable in the shade of the oak tree, away from the crowd. 

A twig cracks underfoot, and Dean looks toward the sound. 

Sam approaches with two beers in hand, sure-footed on the grassy slope. He plops himself down next to Dean, sidling closer until their shoulders press together. He gives Dean a vague half-smile and hands him a beer. It’s an uncapped green bottle with a white label and red logo. Stella Artois. 

Dean frowns and raises an eyebrow, but Sam only shrugs and takes a long swig of his own. 

Dean follows suit. As the lager touches his tongue, he’s tempted to make a face - just on principle - but he can’t quite bring himself to do it. The flavor is mild, the bubbles fine and buoyant, and it cools his throat against the warm spring air. 

They sit in silence for a while, and Dean’s nearly halfway through his beer before Sam speaks. 

“What’s goin’ on with you?”

Dean glances at him sidelong, but Sam is looking down toward the picnic. It’s a vague sort of question - deliberately so, Dean thinks, based on the cautious tone. 

Dean shakes his head and stares down at his boots. “Nothin’ much,” he grumbles, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Just...” he breathes out a short sigh. “I dunno. Tired, I guess.”

That much is certainly true. Not two minutes after he’d left the barn yesterday, it had occurred to him that his car was still parked outside his bunker in the marsh. He’d grumbled a bit, but started walking anyway, humming Whitesnake lyrics under his breath. The gravel path had slowly turned to blacktop, mirages dancing in the stinging sunlight. Here I go again on my own. 

He’d eventually stumbled upon his soggy marsh, his legs cramping, back stiff, and a headache pounding at his temples. In hindsight, Dean supposes he could’ve called for a lift - Sam or Charlie would’ve come for him, surely. Or he could’ve just wished his way home - the divine magic of Heaven, and all that. 

Thing is, once he’d started walking, it hadn’t occurred to him to do anything else. Going down the only road I’ve ever known. 

Dean wets his lips, chewing the bottom one. “Can I ask you somethin’?”

Sam turns toward him, eyebrows raised. He gives a circumspect nod and sets his beer on a protruding tree root. “‘Course.”

Dean brings his knees to his chest, folding his arms across them. “Why...” he trails off for second, the weight of Sam’s stare pressing the words back down his throat. He harrumphs, cutting his gaze across the pasture to the shoreside picnic, and tries again. 

“Why’d you quit huntin’?” he says in a rush. “I mean, after I...”

Sam lets him hang for a few seconds before smirking. “After you... bit it?”

Dean rolls his eyes and bumps his shoulder against Sam’s. “Yeah. That.”

Sam huffs a mild laugh and follows Dean’s eyes out to the lake. He’s quiet for half a minute, and Dean waits. 

“I didn’t really,” he says eventually. “Quit, I mean. Eileen and I, we—” he tips his head side to side, “we slowed down, I guess, when we found out about Junior.” He heaves a short chuckle and hunches forward. “Those first couple years after he was born were...” He pauses for a moment, combing his fingers through his hair with a fond smile. “He was more than enough monster for both of us.”

Dean smiles, though something is pinching in his chest. His nephew - his namesake - is still down there, crawling across the earth. Dean knows he’ll meet him one day, but there’s an ache near his heart for all the years he’s already missed. 

Dean nods sharply and wrestles a smirk onto his mouth. “Gets that from his uncle,” he grunts and takes a long gulp of his beer. 

Sam turns to him with a raised eyebrow. “Being a monster?”

Dean hums and nods. “And a, uh, ruggedly handsome ladykiller,” he adds, pointing a forefinger toward his own face.

Sam tips his head back in a laugh. “Right,” he huffs out. “Except that he’s the spitting image of Eileen. And he’s gay.”

Dean’s head pops up at that, and he feels his eyes narrow into a squint. 

Dean Winchester, Jr is gay. 

In hindsight, Dean probably should have known that already. Sam had mentioned Junior’s ‘partner’ Alex before - but frankly, Dean had figured that was just Sam being precious about it. He’d assumed Alex was an Alexandria, or maybe an Alexis. 

Dean frowns at himself, wondering why Alexander hadn’t even occurred to him.

He glances back up at Sam to find his expression has gone pensive. There’s a wariness in the straight set of his mouth, belied by a shrewd sort of softness in his eyes. 

Something hot clenches in Dean’s stomach - an old forgotten shame he hadn’t felt since he’d made Lee climb bare-assed out the motel window just as Sam came through the door. 

Sam hadn’t spoken a word - just raised an eyebrow at Lee’s boxers and undershirt strewn across the floor, and handed Dean a Mars Bar he’d lifted from the Gas ‘n Sip. Precocious little shit. 

Dean hunches forward, pressing his chest against his knees. “My point stands,” he grumbles and takes another swig. 

Sam smiles at that and shakes his head. “Right, well,” he goes on. “Eileen and I took a few years off, til Junior was old enough to...” he shakes his head again, shrugging his shoulders. “We didn’t want to lie to him, ya know?”

Dean nods; he does know. John and Mary had lied to them both - and to each other - and it hadn’t gotten them anywhere but six feet under. 

“So,” Sam continues. “Once he was old enough to understand what we we were doing, where we were going, why it’s important—” he tips his head to the side, lips pursing, “—we, sorta got back into it. But...”

Sam goes silent, staring down at his hands wringing together in his lap. 

Dean frowns at him. “What?” he prompts. 

Sam sighs deep and scratches at the back of his head, mussing his hair. “I don’t know,” he shrugs. “Wasn’t the same. It was just... bumps and bruises, spilling salt all over the dash, and...” He chews on his lip for a second before glancing over at Dean. “It just made me miss you.”

Dean feels his frown deepen, etching itself into his brow. 

Of the two of them, Dean had always known that Sam was the one who could survive on his own. He’d done it before, after all; he’d packed up, given Dean and John a bitter ‘good riddance,’ and fucked off to Stanford for years. 

Dean hadn’t called him while he was away, though he’d held his phone in his hands nearly every night, staring at Sam’s number with his thumb hovering over the button. 

He glances up at Sam - at the downturned mouth and the shining eyes - and thinks, for the first time, that Sam might’ve done the same. 

Forty years is a long time. 

Sam sniffs and shakes himself. “Anyway,” he says, and his voice is level, but thick. “It - hunting - it just, uh. It didn’t make me happy.” He turns toward the distant water, the revelers at the little picnic on the shore. “Eileen made me happy,” he intones with a growing smile. “Junior made me—” he shakes his head, eyes going bright, “—so happy.” 

Sam pauses briefly, and Dean follows his eyes as they climb to the faraway mountains, silhouetted in the afternoon sun. 

“I never gave it up entirely,” Sam murmurs. “If someone needed help, I’d-. I’d figure something out. But...” He hunches forward, settling his elbows on his knees. “I realized one day that... happiness isn’t given. It’s taken.” He shakes his head again and looks back toward the picnic. His face goes soft and smiley, and Dean knows he’s staring at Eileen. “If you want it, you gotta... you gotta grab it. Hold onto it.”

Grab it. Hold onto it.

...If you’re looking for rain...

...You taught yourself not to want it... 

...Fish doesn’t know it’s in the water. 

Something cracks in Dean’s chest, and he’s talking before he can trap the words behind his teeth. “I’m not sure I-.”

He cuts himself off, biting down hard on his tongue, but the damage is already done. Even so, he waits for Sam to ask, unsure if he can say the words unprompted - if he can even say them at all. 

Sam doesn’t disappoint, and his tone is light and mild, curious when he murmurs, “What?”

Dean picks at the label on his bottle, eyes fluttering shut. “M’not sure I’d know it if I saw it,” he grits out, voice pitched just above a whisper. “Happiness.”

Dean feels Sam’s eyes on him, feels the weight of his stare pressing him down into the wet grass beneath him - but Sam only sighs. 

Dean looks up, querying him with a frown. 

Sam gives him a tiny, crooked smile. “You wanna know what I think?”

From nearly anyone else, it might be a snarky question, but there’s a sincerity in Sam’s tone - a gravity - that gives Dean pause. 

He could say no, and they could carry on as ever, as always. They’d stare down at the picnic a while, til Sam got up to go join them. Dean would head home to sit alone on the ratty couch in his bunker, or sit alone at his little inlet, never catching any fish, or sit alone in his car parked outside the forest in the field - unable to enter, unable to turn away. 

Dean could say no, but he thinks he has enough regrets. 

He swallows hard. “‘Yeah,” he grunts and clears his throat. “‘Course.”

Sam’s smile widens for a moment, before his face goes somber. “There are things that make you happy, Dean,” he says sotto voce. “You just don’t trust them. You...” He gives Dean a look, all subdued melancholy and straight-mouthed empathy. “You have no faith in them.”

An old abandoned barn appears in Dean’s head - the twin of the one just beyond the mountains. A man with limpid blue eyes set in a wide, stark face stands in the wake of high winds and dancing sparks. 

This is your problem, Cas had said in the tumult of rolling thunder, beneath the shadow of arching wings. You have no faith.

“And I get it, ya know,” Sam continues, cutting through the reverie. “You...” he sighs and peers at Dean, mouth pursing. “You lost a lot of the things that made you happy. I know that.” He shakes his head. “But...”

Dean stares at Sam’s profile. He’s got Mom’s nose and Dad’s chin, Mom’s straight spine and Dad’s weathered hands; but mostly, he’s just himself - a man of his own. Dean’s always wondered how he managed that. 

Dean harrumphs into his shoulder, chewing on his tongue. “But?”

Sam gives him an opaque look, then turns toward the cookout. Eileen and Jo are dragging a grumbling Ellen toward the water. Mary’s sprawled out on the grass with her feet in John’s lap, laughing up at the sky. 

“We’re in Heaven, Dean,” Sam murmurs, and there’s a startled sort of wonder in his voice. “Real Heaven. Destroyed and rebuilt til they- til they got it right. This is...” He breathes out a little sound that might be a laugh. “This is happiness bedrock, Dean.”

Happiness bedrock, Dean repeats in his head. Happiness bedrock. 

He’d known the moment he arrived - felt it in his bones - that this was it. End of the line. The thought had sobered him, at first, calmed him in the wake of his death. But the longer he lingers here, the more miles he puts on Baby, the more sunny days he wastes away on his bench at the end of the pier - the heavier his head seems to grow. 

He doesn’t miss the earth - not really. He’d never say as much out loud, but he’d lived far longer than he’d ever wanted to - ever meant to. He was tired when he asked Sam to stay with him, to finally let him go, and even here, on the other side of the pearly gates, that weariness hasn’t faded. 

Dean had spent most of his life digging his own grave - and digging some more, and digging some more. Finding bedrock should be a victory, should feel like a reward, and yet—

Sam’s shoulder bumps Dean’s as he hoists himself to his feet. Dean glances up at him, eyes squinted against the spots of light shining through the leaves overhead. 

“I’m safe, Dean,” Sam says simply. “And happy. Everyone - all of our family, our friends. We’re safe. And happy. I just...” 

Sam breathes out a short sigh, plucking Dean’s empty bottle from his loose fingers. He glances down at the picnic, then out to the mountain pass. Dean watches him squint at the valley between the peaks and gets the sense that Sam isn’t looking at the mountains at all, but beyond them. 

Sam hangs his head, hair fluttering into his face, and he looks so much like the kid Dean raised that his eyes go a little misty. 

“I just wish you were happy, too,” Sam murmurs, and sets off back down the hill. 

chapter eleven | chapter thirteen

table of contents

[sunshinexlollipops]

Sorry to bother but I am dying over your alpha Arthur headcanons. They’re perfection. Low honor Arthur got me feelin some kind of way. 😍 was wondering if u could write some more for that? Preferably with a omega reader????

you’re good anon! a lot of people have been really enjoyin’ themselves some alpha Arthur. he’s pretty wild— and in general ABO has been some fineeeeee work on him.

like damn son, G I D D Y U P.

alrighty sooooo we’re gonna make some magic as we did of this last time— high and low honor alpha!Arthur hc’s comin’ up! ;)

—————

A L P H A A R T H U R

Low Honor

has a neck thing. def a biting kink. but he loves marking your throat up, not just as a possessive gesture, but because he likes the way it riles you up. it’s always his go-to to get you feeling right, and how he likes you best— pliant and floating.

(also low key into collars but the surface is all we shall skim today, class—)

THICC. APPRECIATION. he loves him an omega that’s packin’. thicc thighs are what he wants— he likes soft, pillowy thighs more than anything else, and if you got ‘em? gonna be like Moses parting ‘em too. expect A LOT of beard/scruff burn.

no doubt into dominance play and some obedience “exercises.” he likes to take complete control in bed more often than not, and you’re left to his whim. he’ll ask you if you’re a good omega. and if not? well, he’s just gonna have to do something about that ain’t he?

usually tops, but he does let you too from the bottom or occasionally will bottom for you. but you have to earn that shit, you best believe. ;)

you wearing his clothes. sets. him. off. he comes into his tent and see you in nothing but his blue shirt? you’re gonna see more than just a vein bulge in his forehead, m’kay?

(and if you wear his neckerchief????? he’s done for)

loves to show you off. around the campfire, in town, to Dutch or Micah or anyone who remotely showed/shows any interest in you. you’re HIS omega, and he’ll let them know by practically making you mewl in front of them.

(at the campfire he’ll have you sit on his lap and just widjwixjwkfje)

his gifts to you are often clothes, jewelry, or something extravagant. how it was sourced or found is none too important, but damn don’t you look good— and damn if Arthur won’t show you just how much he appreciates the view.

obsessed with your heats. he keeps track of that shit, and sometimes knows your cycles better than you do. can also tell when it’s coming on before you realize what’s up.

loves your scent, especially when in heat. you’re like a siren to him, and any time he smells even just a trace of it on you? it doesn’t matter what honor level he’s at, he’s going buck wild

he knots you in Dutch’s tent once, after the man pisses him off. it enraged the man for days but the only time Arthur gives a fuck is when he’s laying into you. :)

will surprise you with random trips out into the wilderness. not for anything in particular except that it’s pretty much just to worship you while you’re out there. plus, he loves to have you walk around naked, and the camp doesn’t exactly appreciate it like he does

(not that it’s also a bad view, but it usually leads to Arthur fighting Micah or some shit bc he stares)

(also can just envision him laying out a fur on the ground and just laying you there on it, grabbing quick sketches for his special o t h e r journal)

loves pinning you to things. the wall, a table, the floor/ground. gets you by the wrists, your neck, holds your hips. he’s always got a hold on you, one way or another.

whenever you wake, you’ll always find him ready to truly get you up with the way he kisses you and let’s his hands wander

touches you whenever he can— he can’t get enough of you physically, and he’s constantly running his fingers down your sides, loves to pinch your skin lightly in his hands. he studies your body like he’s holding the right bumper

angry. sex. you best believe it’s a thing between the two of you. he’s always a hothead, even without ABO, and when his temper is riled? when you keep pushin’ him? it looks like he’s going to snap but he will literally just grab you by the nape and he’ll work it out by workin’ you up. 9 out of 10 arguments are solved this way.

doggie style is his favorite position ;)

he talks a lot during sex— like expect him to not shut up. he’ll tell you how you feel, how good this is, how good you are. he also growls a lot and he is NOT quiet.

gives you a necklace or something to adorn your neck that rests by his mating bite— it’s all to draw attention there, and this is his form of a ring to announce it.

loves it when you tell him how good of an alpha he is, and how much you love being his omega. he takes pride in that, and the way he can take you apart so easily underneath him. it’s a talent. ;)

into watching you. whether you are feeling promiscuous or he’s in the mood, he enjoys watching you do certain things like undress, bathe, or feel yourself. you pop one button off and he’s immediately like 👀

definitely has Charles Châtenay paint a nude portrait of you. shit is worth more than a pile of gold bars to the man.

High Honor

has Jack make a flower crown for you when he takes him fishing, and he puts it on you as soon as he gets back to camp

he tries his hand at cooking with you, and I mean really tries. he’s not awful per say, but unless it’s in a can or can burn over a fire he is really at odds ends with himself.

(can make coffee like a pro tho)

he always rises before you, and you usually wake to him bringing you breakfast among other things. he also loves to surprise you with gifts then— the way your face goes from sleepy to wide-eyed is his favorite

loves you in any way you come. he doesn’t care, as long as you’re happy and you give him the honor of loving him back :,)

S O F T. everything about Arthur is cuddly and welcoming, despite the tough facade he puts up. he is a rugged cowboi, but he MELTS when you snuggle up next to him. he is a bear, but the teddy kind, much to his dismay

(he sometimes acts like he doesn’t want to cuddle or doesn’t like being sweet, but you can tell he loves doting on you and being gentle— he’s tactile after all)

(you also get the man to sleep on more than just the damn ground or a table bc like??? seriously??? this man could literally sleep on fucking train tracks like his name is Thomas.)

(^^ when you introduce this man to the novelty concept of, I dunno, a BED, you also show him the magic of blankets and how it’s really nice to wrap yourself up in one. it quickly becomes his favorite thing to do.)

(^^^ you find Arthur literally wrapped up to his nose in a blanket cocoon one day, and you have no idea how to handle it)

(You: Did you use literally all of our blankets? Arthur: *nothing but his eyes visible from the mound of cloth heaped into your bed* . . . no.)

some nights he just holds onto you. there’s no funny business involved, but he tugs you close, puts your foreheads together, and simply exists with you. that’s all he really wants

loves it when you tell him how happy you are— he loves seeing you smile, and he’ll go out of his way to keep one on your face

also tries to get you to laugh to the point of snorting

(and he decks Micah when he jokes that you sound like a pig and then goes right back to making you giggle)

if you have a bad day or someone in camp was rough to you, Arthur will try and cheer you up or tell that person off. the last thing he wants is his omega upset.

puts you first, always. even if he needs something more, if it costs him, if he’s got to go as far as saying no and disobeying Dutch, you’re his number one concern.

and around the times of your heats? Arthur is like a chicken with his head cut off. he panics sometimes, fretting that things won’t be safe, that you’ll need this and that— he stresses himself by trying to make it easy for you, and drives himself up the wall in an attempt for perfection

(he doesn’t believe all you need is him alone to have it be that way, he’s just that obtuse)

any Arthur in bed means you will hear a lot of stuff from him— he is never quiet. but, this one will whisper praise into your ear, will tell you how much he loves and adores you. it is all emotional and sweet. :,)

he makes sure you’re comfy, and always worried he hurts you when he knots you. his concern always gets a loving giggle out of you, especially when he blushes after you tell him just how nice it is

takes you on small trips to do things like stargaze or to just be alone with you.

he gets you a ring for when your mates. call him pine, because he’s a sap like that

always puts his jacket on you when you’re cold. legit it can be like Chapter I: Colter outside and Arthur would give you his entire outfit bc he’s a loving dumbass like that

sometimes, when he genuinely doesn’t know what you’re saying, he pretends to understand even though he’s got no damn idea what’s going on

(You: Have you tried spaghetti? It’s good! Arthur: uh... I’ve tried huntin’ one once, with my bow.)

(^^ he goes and tries to read books to learn more about shit bc he’s never been so mortified in his lifeeeee)

has Albert Mason take a beautiful photograph of you. he keeps it by his bedside, framed and loved.

[justastraightupmess]

snw-cnvs replied to your post: my aesthetic is katsumi decked out in some...

let mitsu visit and katsu wants to go bug-hunting bc mitsus eyes will Sparkle bitch that shit was his entire childhood he will shake natsu like WE C AN G O V IS IT A LL OUR PL ACE S LETS SH OW H I M LIL NATSU and natsu is like b ut thats not i n the shce d u le

katsumi just fkin throws his straw hat to the ground in protest like ‘ fUCK UR SCHEDULE WE’RE GOING BUG HUNTIN’ and then he’d cling to mitsu’s arm and be all like ‘this brother is so much nicer, mitsuki is better T^T he’ll take me bug hunting, natsu is a bully’

[ghosty-schnibibit]

new taz liveblog under the cut ^u^

it feels like the only things i really post anymore are these liveblogs lol, i need to actually start setting up my queue again. in the mean time, new arc! woohoo!

that is some sick as cover art!!!

aaaaa this is so pretty, i love arcs that take place during winter

does duck know this guy? :o

OH SHIT THIS IS CREEPY

what the flying fuck was that

welp, r.i.p. rick

OH NO D:

a man is dead travis

oooh no holy shit, duck you keep getting dunked on

ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME DUCK'S GONNA GET METEORED

aww ned :'(

HOT POCKETS GRUEL

damn this is depressing

duck’s is significantly less sad

AUBREY CELEBRATES YULE! AAAAAAAAA!!! I'M SO HAPPY HOLY SHIT!!!!! i know travis is being careful to avoid outright saying aubrey is pagan or wiccan because he doesn’t want to offend anyone (which is totally cool and i get why he’s doing that) but you bet my witchy pagan ass is gonna headcanon her as such now

justin you do not need to dunk on your brother like this

everybody dunks on poor griffy lmao

stern's back? wtf

"we haven't killed him yet!?" aubrey ilu so much

r.i.p. barbara lmao

poor thacker :(

duck is the worst liar and i love him so much

"DAMMIT" duck my boy calm down

"duck's having an episode" pfff

was that foreshadowing griffin

i love duck so much

damn justin this is so good ass character development

aww aubrey ilu

"okay jacob marley" bless

awww aubrey my baby, you are so sweet

god mama i love you

this is so good i love this

spooky :o

oh it's just heathcliff

travis w h y

"get huntin' gumshoes" ilu griffy

well this is sad as shit

ned do you just have a drivers ed film on your phone???

"now you've made him worried" thanks ned

all i can imagine is duey from ducktales

WHAT IS THIS VOICE

i'm screaming duck's in with the larp crowd

jesus this is so meta

"okay no" griffin ilu

duey's voice is getting more and more normal by the second

this is weird as hell

... i thought i heard the creepy music started up for two seconds

what the hell? that's weird

there we go! there's a good travis roll

she's gonna steal from this poor sweet larping boy

yay! go duck

i have literally zero experience with cars so this'll be fun to listen to lol

oh damn, that's realistically sad as hell :(

so the car has been burgled by the abomination... hmm...

ned my boy, wtf

"...no" aubrey

"i just freaked your bean" ilu travis

continuing the magnus tradition of characters verbally winking

duck is not only bad at lying, he's also against thievery, he really is the anti-taako lmao

oh fuck, it's stern isn't it

♪♫♬ hard move ♪♫♬

OH NO, IT'S THE CREEPY MUSIC

WHAT THE FUCK

the bags are full of missing logging equipment i’m calling it now

it's santa isn't it

this is creepy as shit

bless you ned

okay that's... not minerva is it

WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK

WHAT IS THIS RING SHIT

in conclusion, i am scared as fuck for whatever’s going to happen in the next episode but also super intrigued, this sounds like a really cool mystery and i absolutely adore winter settings (plus more of griffin’s absolutely fantastic creepy music). can’t wait to see what the rest of the arc has in store :D

[alotta-lovin]

I wanted to ask all three of you a question for the F/O Take Over. What do you all love the most about Sunny, physical and non physical??? And you all better treat her well she such a beautiful and wonderful person and she deserves all the love in the world. I hope you all have a wonderful day, I can't wait to see your answer! 😊

🔦 : Boys! Haul your asses in here we got a live one!

👑 : Yeah, We can see that Dean– uh.. O h. okay. uh– Reg you wanna go first?

🚬 : Sure????? physical and non physical— thats a tough one,  Do we have to pick just one?

🔦 : I say just do four? two for each? I guess…

🚬 : Hmm… I’d have’ta say; Physical wise. Her eyes. they are so blue and they get 10x more blue when she’s swimming. or when she wakes up they are like electric blue and the best damn color i’ve ever seen…and.. her Height– she’s tiny but in all the right ways ya’ get what i mean? like she’s not a twig but she’s tiny and so easy to pick up and hug or spin around.

🚬 -  Non Physical though… it would have’ta be ‘er laugh and the way she carries her self. She doesn’t seem to care how loud she gets when she laughs, hell if she’s around ‘er best friend, Rizzo. and she’s laughing you can hear it pretty damn far and it just fills you with just– Happiness i guess?? 

🚬 - like everything bad in the world fades away cause its pure and a real laugh. not the fake bullshit half the girls around Derry like to parade about. as for how she carries herself. it’s like she’ll throw ya if you so much as say somethin’ that’ll tick her off. which in a positive way i wouldn’t put it past her at that point. she’s gone through a lot and won’t let you walk over her even if you tried to.

🔦 - Damn kid, have to go and raise the bar like ten fuckin’ feet.

🚬 - What? I was bein’ honest–

👑 - Don’t let it get to ya Reggie. he’s teasin ya. uhm, i’ll go next i guess

👑 - Physical traits huh… Her hands. defiantly her hands. like Reggie said; she’s tiny. but holding her hands bring a sense of security. safety in a way you could say. and… would her expressions count for physical? I mean its her face is a physical trait– But she’s very expressive. you can easily tell what type of mood she’s in or how she’s feelin’ about a topic or subject at hand. that is if she isn’t hiding it.

👑 - Non-Physical though?… The way she sings. she gets lost in her own world when she sings and completely forgets anyone’s there. its honestly adorable if you think about it. and honestly Dean, Reggie and Cronus can all attest to this next bit; She’s a natural flirt i tell ya. she may not think it but she’s a natural flirt and can honestly make anyone of us a embarrassed mess without meaning to.

🔦, 🚬 - She is. She really is.

👑 : A’ight, Dean. it’s your turn bud.

🔦 - Don’t call me bud. in some weird sense you’re still younger than me.

🔦 - Physical Traits?… Huh– never thought of that… Non-physical traits no problem but Physical? and yeah yeah, don’t come at me about that bein’ a shocker. i got that from Sammy already. but.. I guess her lips. the bottom one is fuller than the top and the top lip you can see where she was bitten by a dog at one point. and how it turns into such a beautiful smile. with the tiny gap between her cheek and teeth on the left side–

🔦 - //Clears Throat// Hum– this next one Cronus and maybe the others would agree with, possibly– Her Freckles n’ Moles. she’s covered in the fuckers and honestly they are one of the things i look forward to being able to see if she shows a ton of skin. Yeah yeah i love her figure and the way her hips move but she’s covered in the tiny spots that ive noticed she doesn’t draw herself with. its a pity honestly. but i get it there’s a lot of em’.

🔦 - Non-Physical, Her hugs. the way she hugs is the best thing. and i know for sure anyone in her life. Sammy, Steve, Reggie, Cronus. anyone who has gotten the fuckin’ honor of huggin’ this tiny, yet lovable brat can attest to the fact that no matter what her hugs are always the best.

🔦 - And her taste in music. she has great taste in music, ranging from to the new stuff all the way back to the greaser era in the 50′s. and some how can mesmerize all of them and sing along to each one or just hear the first few beats and instantly be able to name the band, and song name. it’s honestly awesome.

(gets chick-flick-moment after this just sayin’ - 🔦)

🚬 - We’re all tryin’ our best to treat her the way she’s supposed to be treated and or better– I know i’d do just about anythin’ for her as you can tell since i typically try to keep an eye out for her in the halls just in case a “episode” happens.

👑 - I’m tryin’ my best… she treated me as someone equal while i was going through a lot and yet supported me through all of it even after i told her what my damage was. she still was supportive and understood and stood by me to make sure i was okay. i only wanna do the same and make sure she feels loved and wanted.

🔦 - I’ve loved a few people in my time. but the fact that she’s able to call me out on my bullshit without hesitation or to call me a dumbass and pull me back to reality and dust me off after doing so and push me forward and cheery me on the whole way. of course i wanna treat her with the best of my ability. if i had it my way she wouldn’t have to deal with the huntin’ life at all. 

🔦 - If it were up to any of us she wouldn’t be in any of the shitty ass situations she was in that made her have the trust issues she has–

🚬 - the PTSD—

👑 - The Self hatred—

🔦, 👑, 🚬 - The Abandonment issues–

🚬 - Though we may not be the best people in the world, we certainly aren’t the worst. and we wanna show her that she is worthy of being loved and adored and just cherished. hell supported and cheered on for the way she does for us–

🔦 - We’re tryin our best and we all know how wonderful she can be… how great she is and how just… beautiful of a person she is. 

👑 - Jesus, that got really deep. but; We appreciate you askin’ us a interesting question and we hope you liked the answer and we’ll try our best to have a good day! 

🔦 - This is pretty fun so i’m sure we will! we hope you have a good day though too, Anon!

[yutikyis]

Honest Q&A: Round 6! Table

Hello all! It’s been a while since we were all together. I’m glad everyone was able to join our roundtable today. Hmm… looking over the questions submitted they seem to be… ahh, yes, this were all omitted from the previous questionnaires due to their… darker theme. Well, it seems my editor is looking to expand our readership. Very well, if anyone feels uncomfortable answering these VERY hypotheticals… feel free to pass.

First, a question for myself. Where have you all been? It’s been really hard to track you all down for another sit down lately.

Yuti:  “Ah... I’ve been b-busy w-with this and that.

Reri: “Same as I ever been. Huntin’ and screwin’. Ya ain’t seen me then ya either are blessed or cursed I guess.”

Rahya: “Um, same ol’, same ol’. I ain’t been that different. I been goin’ on walks with Grape an’ I found a nice pond! It’s got all kinda fishers in it an’ I saw a frogtoad once!”

Sayo: “My life has passed as normal. I have been exploring the land under the guard of Lord Vachir. I fear he is not overly excited about some of our exploration but he is kind about it.”

Tsukiko: “Ah, Lady Kususha. I am certain he is very kind about it. After all he is not a stupid man, nor a blind one. I have been waiting for new orders from my Master and aiding Kitakage in his missions.” Meichi’a: “Moi? I, of course, have been a shameless louse! Exploring the lands, drinking the finest wine, and just yesterday I spent a night with the most CHA-rming... ah and I’m getting glares again. Ahem. I’ve kept myself occupied.”

Alright, on to our… readers’ questions. <cough> Uh-hmm… let’s get this over with, shall we?

“If you had to kill one person you cared about to save the rest of the world, who would you pick?”

Yuti: “... P-probably myself? I k-know there are arguments to b-be made about t-the needs of the many a-and as a h-healer you n-need to decide these things but... I d-don’t think I could kill someone I c-cared about.”

Reri: “Haw! Like anyone’s surprised at that answer Snowflake. Me? Sure. It ain’t really a choice, is it? They’re gonna die if the world explodes or whatever. I’d just take whoever’s closest. Ain’t a big deal.”

Rahya: “Um... I... I ain’t... I ain’t gonna kill nobody, not even ta save the world. I’d keep on hopin’ an’ prayin’ that things’d work out. Aasifa’s got me belivin’ in luck so... I figure I’d just hold off an’ hope somethin’ good happens!

Sayo: “I... I suppose it would be my duty. I can not say I would... This is really a very unfair question. I... if I had to pick I suppose it would be Lord Vachir or perhaps Lord Benedict. Only because I believe the two of them would most willingly sacrifice themselves to save others! Not because I value them less!”

Tsukiko:  “If I was commanded to, of course. My highest priority is satisfying my Master and I can only imagine he would be... displeased.. if the world was destroyed due to inaction. One life is not worth more than many, especially weighed against the feelings of a mere servant.” Meichi’a: “I? I would sacrifice nobody. I have already sacrificed one person I cared about and the world is not worth more than that. Let it burn if it comes to that. Selfish perhaps but I never claimed to be anything but.”

“What is the worst thing you can imagine someone doing?”

Yuti: “Ah... t-that’s a difficult answer. I-if I had to say... it w-would be harming someone’s soul or mind. A b-body is a body a-and can be healed b-but to hurt their mind or their spirit i-is unacceptable.”

Reri: “Hah. Ya really want my answer ta this? Because I got some ideas. So, ya start with some fish hooks... now this works best if the bastard’s a guy... and ya start insertin... ya look kinda green there, fella. Ya want me to stop? Hah! Knew it.

Rahya: “Um... the worst thin’? I ain’t sure. I figure like... blowin’ up the whole world! Like in yer last question! That seems like the worst thin’ cuz everyone lives here, yah? So... where’d ya even live after ya do it? On rocks an’ stuff floatin’ around? Cuz... that seems awful inconvenient. How ya gonna make roads? I ain’t sure chocobirds can fly that far without gettin’ tired and seems kinda mean to ‘em.”

Sayo: “Ah. The worst thing I can imagine is someone shaming another. Shame is a terrible thing indeed. Many would rather endure pain and misery than face shame and dishonor... at least that is what Sire says.”

Tsukiko: “The worst thing one can do is take another. That... is all I can say.”

Meichi’a: “The worst thing one can do? To give up on life. I am afraid I must disagree with the charming silver-haired crumpet. No shame is too great, no pain is unendurable. To live is the greatest gift and to toss it away is far worse than any other. ”

“Do you think death is the worst fate there is?”

Yuti: “No. N-not at all. D-death is sad, true, but it isn’t the end of life, m-merely a transformation. T-to live in eternal a-agony or have your aether d-devoured o-or to be trapped for eternity... t-those all sound much worse.”

Reri: “Gettin’ creative there, Snowflake. I like it. Ya oughta go a bit further. Well, for once, me and the girl agree. Death ain’t so bad. Probably hurts a shiteload but I see things a lot worse than death. Ya don’t hear of folks prayin’ for the sweet relief of death for no reason, yeah?

Rahya: “I... no, it ain’t the worst thing. I’m sure hopin’ not. If’n I gotta be true... I figure death ain’t so bad for the folks who be dyin’. It’s worse for the folks who ain’t dead cuz they ain’t got the person they like ‘round much, yeah? I mean I ain’t wanna be dyin’... but I’m more scareda bein’ hurt awful bad an’ bein’ all alone...”

Sayo: “I must go with the consensus here I am afraid. Death is to be feared but it is not the worst one can imagine. The ancestors have after-lives of peace and comfort after a life of hard work. It does not sound like something to fear if you’ve lived a worthy live.”

Tsukiko:

“Death is certainly by no means the worst thing! Why, I can think of several things quite worse. Enslavement, torture, suffering... many of which some would consider death a release from!”

Meichi’a:

“Alas, once again I must disagree with these charming ladies. All this talk of afterlives and mortal suffering is fine and good, but a life is a life and death is a great mystery. Even if one should survive in some form, it isn’t *life.* No drinking, no dancing and most certainly no carnal nights spent in the comforting embrace of a lover. Life is the greatest gift we have.

“Would you rather know the date of your death or the cause of your death?”

Yuti: “A-ah... t-that’s tough. Probably the d-date. The c-cause might make me tempted to t-try to avoid it but if I know anything from stories t-that would make me c-cause it! P-plus if I knew the date I’d h-have time to set my affairs in order a-and make sure I’m not leaving anything undone..”

Reri: “Hells below Snowflake can’t you even die in an interestin’ way? I agree on the Date though... but not for the reasons ya think. If I know when I’m gonna die then I’m godsdamn sure I ain’t gonna die BEFORE that. Gives me more freedom ta do shite.”

Rahya: “Um... I figure I’d wanna know the date cuz... if I know I’m gonna die because a rock falls on my head or somethin’ then I’m gonna spend all day bein’ scareda rocks? An’ that doesn’t sound real fun. But if I know I’m gonna go poof then I can just not be afraida stuff until then, yeah? Cuz... Aasifa’s already like than an’ he seems happy.”

Sayo: “I must disagree. Knowing the date of one’s demise is... not what I would want. It feels... restrictive. The cause would be better I think. I do not fear the day I meet my ancestors but I do not want it lingering over my head.”

Tsukiko: “ Ah! But Mistress Kususha! What if you are told that you would tortured to death over a period of many days! That would hang over your head far worse! Or if you were told you would be blinded and starve to death on a desert island or...” Rahya: “Um could ya maybe please stop? I ain’t wantin’ ta hear alla that...”

Tsukiko: “Oh, a thousand pardons, Mistress Miqo’te. I meant to no offense, none at all! I certainly wasn’t *intending* to frighten you with your ignorance and shortsightedness.” Rahya: “Aw shucks, thank ya!” Tsukiko: “You are most welcome. Myself? I pick neither. I apologize if it does not answer your question but I do not wish to know the time nor the means of my death.”

Meichi’a: “I must agree with the ravishing raven-haired delight. Date or cause, it would hang over my head. Unless I was told that I would die from exhaustion after a night with several del- .. oh please don’t glare, my beret-bearing beauty! I was merely joking, merely joking!”

“If you were trapped on an island, would you rather resort to cannibalism or die of starvation?”

Yuti: “N-neither! I-if I was trapped on an island a-and had to r-resort to cannibalism, t-that would mean there are others there. W-we could work together to b-build a raft... t-then I can use conjury t-to help propel it a-and get off the island!”

Reri: “Ya ain’t stupid enough to think that’s the actual question, Snowflake.”

Yuti: “N-no! B-but... I mean...I s-suppose I w-would fish?”

Reri: “Still ain’t the question, Snowflake. Why don’t ya answer it?”

Yuti: “F-fine. I’d s-starve. It w-would f-feel... w-wrong...” Reri: “Knew it! Hah. Lookin’ Miss Prissy over here, thinkin’ she’s too good ta eat. Me? ‘course I’d do what it took to survive. Ain’t no difference between Miqo and Marlboro at the end of the day, ‘cept Miqo flesh probably ain’t gonna poison ya.”

Rahya: “I ain’t gonna do not cannyballism! Them things is big and explosive an’ madea metal! I couldn’t eat it even if I tried real real ha... what?”

Sayo: *whispers quietly*

Rahya: “WHAAA?! What kinda question is that?! I ain’t gonna eat nobody!!”

Sayo: “I must agree. To eat the flesh of a fellow Spoken is shameful and dishonorable. It would taint your bloodline and your legacy for generations. Starving is a kinder fate than that.”

Tsukiko: “It is true that such an act taints your bloodline. As I am already an *unworthy* servant of a tained line however it would not be shameful to eat the flesh of another... assuming they were already dead of course. Otherwise I would be honor-bound to offer myself first. Assuming one would like to eat *my* tainted flesh.

Meichi’a: “ Well, as much as I do enjoy eating a scrumptious beauty, it would not be in THAT way. I may consider life to be important but I am a gentleman first and foremost and there are some things a gentleman never does.”

“Would you rather have an arm hacked off or a leg?”

Yuti: “... I w-wish this wasn’t a question. A-ah... I m-mean... N-Nate seems to be doing okay... I g-guess... I d-don’t... A-arm? Yes.” Reri: “Easy. Arm. Ya can get by one one arm. It takes some work ta relearn to fight but ya can do it. Leg though? Shite, yer gonna be hobblin’ along. Lookit the Flames general. He ain’t havin’ a bad time.”

Rahya: “Um... I like havin’ arms. I can draw an’ move stuff.... an’ hug! I ain’t able ta hug nobody if I only got one arm... I mean I guess I kinda can but it’d be all.. *awkward one-armed hugging motions* so.. leg. Leg ain’t so bad. Plus ya could still ride on a chocobird or somethin’!”

Sayo: “I would choose to lose a leg. One can be far more productive with two functioning hands than two functioning legs. Honored Uncle has but a single leg and has little trouble getting by.”

Tsukiko: “I would choose an arm. My job is to go where my Master orders. It would be far more difficult to do with a single leg.”

Meichi’a: “Why, not even a question. The things you can do with two hands are FAR more fun. I make my coin from music and playing a harp with a single hand would be... well, not impossible but challenging! And as for dancing, I knew a gentleman in Limsa who could dance better than most two-legged gentleman with nary but a single flesh and single wooden limb! The sound of his peg-leg against the dance floor was a music all its own!”

“If you murdered someone, how would you get rid of the body?”

Yuti: “...I... t-that is... I w-wouldn’t...” Reri: “It’s a QUESTION Snowflake, not a confession a’ guilt.”

Yuti: “I am aware, Mother. Ugh. F-fine. I w-would... I m-mean... I s-suppose f-fire?”

Reri: “(In a whiny stuttering voice) I s-suppose f-fire. Aww, isn’t that cute. Fire ain’t bad but the best way ta hide a body is ta give it to the sea. Minimal fuss, hard as hell ta look for it, the fish do mosta the cleanin’ for you. You oughta weight it down so it ain’t washin’ up on shore or somethin’ but if ya wanna be smart about it ya lure ‘em onto a boat first. Less mess an’ trouble.” Rahya: I... i ain’t gonna murder nobody none but if I was gonna I ain’t gonna hide nuffin’ because I did a bad thin an’ I ain’t should be pretendin’ I ain’t.

Sayo: “I would never murder someone. Even in the unfortunate situation where I was forced to do so in self-defense, I would not deny my crime. I would be judged fairly by the administrators of the land so that no stain would come upon my family’s honor.”

Tsukiko: “Oh, MIstress Kususha. It is so very noble that you believe so firmly in the laws of the land and their fairness! You are a very fortunate woman indeed to never have had to hide a body by melting it into a easily washed away sludge using a careful mixture of alchemic and natural chemicals!”

Meichi’a: “... I am uncomfortable with that answer! Ah... me? I suppose I would bury it. I’m not really the murdering type but it at least feels respectful.”

“Would you rather hear the voices of dead people or see their ghosts?”

Yuti: “Ah... t-that’s tough. H-hear I suppose. T-that way I’d b-be able to help them i-if they needed it.”

Reri: “*snort* The last thing I need is some clingy dead folk cloggin’ up my hearing with moans and wails. I’d rather see the bastards. Maybe I can get some clue about what killed ‘em and if there’s danger about and I don’t gotta hear them whimperin’ and cryin’ because they were too stupid ta not get killed.” Rahya: “... I’d like ta hear folks ta be honest... be kinda nice. Like havin’ a buncha friends around. An’ if Aasifa... I mean... it’d be nice ta know I could still hear Aasifa, yah?”

Sayo: “Ah... to see, I suppose. The Kami and ancestors already speak in their own ways, but it would be... comforting to see my deceased family again. To see their smiles.”

Tsukiko: “Ah, what an unusual question. I would choose to hear. The words of the dead are wise more oft than not and not all of us are blessed enough to have worthy ancestors to whisper in our ears.”

Meichi’a: “I too would choose to hear. It is the least painful choice. To see a lost love and her smile and her beautiful eyes, knowing again I would never be able to hold her? That is a torture, my good sir, a torture. But to hear her voice, to speak to her again? That would be a blessing, if a small one.”

“If someone you loved committed a gruesome murder, would you help them cover it up?”

Yuti: “I-it would depend... I m-mean on why it happened.”

Reri: “Eh. Maybe. Depends on if it’s worth the trouble. Someone went an’ killed someone for no reason, nah. Ya can’t control yerself enough to not be stupid, I’m doin’ the world a favor lettin’ yer stupid arse get caught.” Rahya: “... I ain’t... n-no, prob’ly not I mean... I ain’t... gruesome is a real nasty word, it means all violent an’ bloody an’ stuff, right?”

Sayo: “No. Even if I loved them dearly, murder is a dishonorable act even if it isn’t violent and gruesome. They would need to stand judgement for their actions. If I was caught it would bring great shame to my family,”

Tsukiko: “If my Master commanded it.”

Meichi’a: “Absolutely. Love is love after all. Though I would dearly hope I do not fall in love with a serial killer. There is some spice in danger but ah... you’d have to be rather mad to be aroused by death.”

“Would you rather be kidnapped for six months and survive or die without any psychological damage?”

Yuti: “I w-would rather survive. I... I’ve h-had bad encounters before.”

Reri: “What the Hells ‘psychological damage’ mean anyway? Ya mean I’d be more fucked up after? Who the Hells cares. Survival is survial.” Rahya: “I’m kinda wonderin’ what psycho logic is too. I mean if yer logical then ya ain’t psycho right? It don’t make a lotta sense ta..”

Sayo: *whispering*

Rahya: “Oooooooh. Um... I ain’t... I mean... I ain’t wanna die but I ain’t wanna be hurt a bunch either... If I gotta pick one I guess I’d pick survivin’ so I ain’t... y’know.. dyin’.”

Sayo: “I would choose death. I do not know what would cause psychological damage but it would most likely involved great shame and leave me incapable of fulfilling my role as a second daughter. Death is the more honorable choice.”

Tsukiko: “I would survive, of course. I have no other choice.”

Meichi’a: “Survival, of course. Life is life and even the kindest days of life can damage our minds in some way or another. Why choose to die over something like that?”

“You can only save one… your worst enemy’s infant child, or your best friend’s true love. Who do you pick?”

Yuti: "I... w-would pick the child. N-no matter what, a child is n-not their parent. T-they are innocent and h-have their own life ahead of them.”

Reri: “Pfft. Easy. The kid. If yer too dumb ta avoid whatever danger is puttin’ a baby at risk, ya probably are gonna die when ya eat somethin’ poison cuz you thought it was candy. The kid ain’t trained enough ta stand on their own an’ frankly if it’s my worst enemy’s kid then they’ll probably grow up ta be a fun challenge.” Rahya: “Um... This is an awful weird question? I’m figurin’... um... I ain’t gonna let a baby die. I ain’t got no worst enemies but even if I did I ain’t gonna let a baby die. It ain’t right.”

Sayo: “... I... that is a difficult question. Sire would say that saving a respectable adult is more important unless the child is a Firstborn. I suppose that should be my answer...”

Tsukiko: “Why, whichever my master commanded. Truly it takes a cold individual to leave a child to a cruel and merciless fate but ah.. that may be what is ordered and I must obey.”

Meichi’a: “I am afraid I must say the true love. The child is innocent... but true love is the rarest thing of all. I would do my utmost to avenge the child but one who murders love is the cruelest beast of all.”

“Would you rather marry your most recent ex or spend five years in jail?”

Yuti: "T-that one is easy. My ex. S-she is a wonderful person. I-it would be by no m-means a bad fate.”

Reri: “Easy. Marry ‘em. Then I just ditch ‘em. Like what kinda question is this? Marriage ain’t important.” Rahya: “I ain’t really ever had an... ex-anythin’ so... um.. I guess imma get locked up.”

Sayo: “I have not had an ‘ex’ in any meaningful term... but it would depend on the circumstances. If it was marriage to someone my sire approved of then it would be my duty. If it was some sort of... tawdy kidnapping then I would choose imprisonment. I am certain Lord Vachir would come rescue me!”

Tsukiko: “*smile* Marriage, of course. Marriage is much easier to escape than prison.”

Meichi’a: “... Ah, what a question! How does one qualify an ex? The last woman I slept with? The last I took for a night on the town? I suppose she was rather charming but marriage? I’m not sure. It is a sacred bond and not easily broken. I suppose if I found love then yes. Otherwise.. well, jail it is!”

Thank you all for taking the time to answer these… ahem… questions. I appreciate your candor and I’m sure our readers do as well.  One last question of my own before we break. What’s next for you?

Yuti: "A-ah, I suppose I w-will continue my r-regular healing duties. I d-do have some e-exploration to do, m-maybe Lain will come along...”

Reri: “Same as ever. The four Fs. I hear there’s some kinda big arse monster bein’ spotted around recently, lookin’ forward ta tryin’ it out.” Rahya: “Um, I ain’t sure. Whatever happens ta me, I guess. i ain’t really plannin’...”

Sayo: “I intend to keep exploring Eorzea until I complete my mission.”

Tsukiko: “Whatever my Master commands. Until then, I suppose I will keep Kitakage out of trouble.”

Meichi’a: “Well, I saw this absolutely *beautiful* Elezen woman the other day, I am hoping perhaps to run into her again... ”

Tagged by: @peacekeeper-xiv

Tagging: @voidfirenate @anataerindottir @eyesseeingbeyondtheveil @onidephor @claihn Anyone else I missed!

[lepus-arcticus]

24.

All through the week, they work in soft, careworn silence to reclaim the office, sorting rescued files, restocking the fridge, filling out order forms for new lab equipment. Scully tries to ignore the patch of carpet scoured half a shade lighter than the rest of it, tries not to imagine the hot seep of Jeffrey Spender’s life leaking out of his ears. 

Mulder takes down Clinton and tacks up Bigfoot, throwing her long, contemplative looks over his shoulder as she reorganizes the books he’s shoved slapdash onto the shelves. 

He touches her lightly as he passes; they’re careful not to linger. 

-

Sunday night, and she’s three glasses deep into a bottle of cheap, bitter syrah. Mulder calls to let her know he’s on his way over, his tone indecipherable, and she paces while she waits for the faint, familiar rumble of his car echoing up from the street below. This is it, she tells herself, it’s almost over.  His awkward, uncharacteristic knock startles her into action. “Hi,” she manages, pulling open the door. He looks older in the ocherous light, his hair bristly, and Scully breathes through a singe of ill-timed tenderness. “Uh, come on in.” 

“Thanks,” he replies, trailing off. Clearly, neither of them know how to proceed, how to breach the matter at hand, and Scully pounces on the impending silence with the first thing she can think of to say. 

“Can I take your coat?” Jesus. 

“No,” he says, smiling bashfully. “I can’t stay – I, I’ve gotta get back to the office for a while.” The space between them is heavy, charged with gravity.  Grace. Control. Get it over with, Dana. “Obviously you’ve had some time to think about my request...” 

“Um. It’s... it’s not something I get asked to do every day,” he says, and her belly pitches dangerously, because she knows, God damn it all, she knows his answer already. “Um,” he continues, “but I’m... absolutely flattered.” She must not be hiding herself very well, because he immediately launches into protest – “No, honestly!”

“Look, i-if you’re trying to politely say no, it’s okay – I, I, I understand.” 

“...See, as weird as... this sounds, and this... it sounds really weird, I know, but I, I just wouldn’t want... this to come between us...”

“...Yeah,” she replies self-consciously, looking to the floor. There’s a searing, momentary urge to hit him, but it dissolves into a dull ache behind her eyes. How dare she hope. How dare she want. How incredibly, momentously stupid of her. “Yeah, no. I, I understand,” she says, trying to cover her dejection. “I do.” 

“But...,” he murmurs, reaching for her. “The... the answer is yes.” 

It doesn’t hit her for what feels like a century. And then she’s above herself, watching herself break into a smile and melt into his arms, eyes shining and contained. She lets him go, returning to her body, dizzy with incredulous joy. Oh, God, she thinks, oh, thank you, God. “Um. Well, I’ll call Dr. Parenti, and, um, I assume that he’ll wanna meet you and, and go through the, uh, the donor procedures.”  “Oh,” Mulder says mildly. “At that part I’m a pro.” He smiles and backs away from her, out into the hall, and before she can process his absence, he’s gone.  Scully lets her back fall against the door in his wake, the tears coming hot and wild now, a laugh bubbling up in her throat, the small traces of shame at the edge of her consciousness only sweetening the moment, sharpening it, making it real. 

“Scully...” His voice comes muffled through the wood. 

She turns and opens the door again, pulling herself together. “Hey,” Mulder says, quiet and serious. “Um. In case it wasn’t implied... I’m all in.” He brings his hand to her face, ghosts the pad of his thumb against her cheek, and discretion and neighbours and self-preservation be damned, she vaults up on her toes and crushes her lips against his. 

He laughs against her mouth and drags her close, so that her neck is craned uncomfortably, so that she’s crumpled against him, bent backwards, breathless. Her body responds in a deluge of heat, her heartbeat opposite his, tongues and hands and time disappearing, the softness of his cock swelling slightly against her hipbone. 

She pulls back. He lets her. “Stay,” she sighs, blinking slowly up at him, slipping her fingers under his collar. 

His grin, half-formed, is apologetic. “As much as I’d love to, I – I’ve really gotta get back to the office, Scully. I’ve gotta finish up some things, Arthur Dales left me a message earlier, and I’ve got some paperwork to push through so we can get down to Florida as soon as possible. 

“Do you need help?” she offers, thinking of all of the very unprofessional ways in which they might complete their salvaging of the basement. 

“No, honey, you rest,” he says. “We’re huntin’ sea monsters in the morning.” 

(1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8) (9) (10) (11) (12) (13) (14) (15) (16) (17) (18) (19) (20) (21) (22) (23)

[kidolegend]

Renewals - A Prompto Argentum Fic

AO3 Link

Aaaaaaaa so I finally got the courage to post my fic after debating and double-checking all my facts against the bits of Episode Prompto we’ve been cursed with given... It’ll be a long ride and I feel good about it, but PLEASE leave a comment and let me know what you think and if you’d like me to continue it... Or I’ll be likely to lose motivation since I’m going on the default that no one’s gonna care about it...

Tagging my inspirations and favorite FFXV blogs (I really love all of you and I hope this isn’t bothering you--feel free to let me know if you’d like to be kept off the tags) @nifwrites @cupnoodle-queen @blindbae @joioliviapolaroid @sriracha-chocobo @themissimmortal @poisonous-panda @chocobutt-trash @insomniascure @hyperstorms @xnoctits @thegoddesseos @writingforfinalfantasyxv @crossedquills and probably others but this is getting really long ;__; I love you all aaaaaaaa

Prologue

“Man, I could eat a horse…”

“Well, as long as y’all pay for it, go right ahead.”

“Aw, c’mon Takka, no discount?”

The head of the Hammerhead diner gave the pair of hunters in front of him a deadpan look. “Just cuz yer huntin’ a couple varmints doesn’t mean you can eat me outta house and home.”

“Ahaha, yeah, we’re just joking with you, man.” The two laughed and began perusing the menu, chattering away.

“Excuse me.” A clear voice spoke up behind them, belonging to young woman with short, dark hair and green eyes. She had just arrived at the diner and regarded the men hesitantly, adjusting the newsboy cap on her head.

“Ah, there you are. What’ll it be today?” Takka greeted her.

She shuffled forward and the strange blades at her left hip reflected the yellow diner light as she came to a halt across the counter, catching the attention of the hunters beside her. “I wanted to pick up another hunting job, if you’ve still got any.”

“Of course I do! We won’t be runnin’ out anytime soon, what with all the daemons prowlin’ around as they damn well please.”

“And hey, if you need some fighting partners we’ve got some space on our team.” One of the hunters leaned back and gave her a once over, nudging his friend.

“Yeah,” The other grinned, his tone friendly. “We’ll make sure you don’t get hurt. Some of those daemons are real nasty and we wouldn’t want a less experienced hunter out on her own.”

Takka chuckled and shook his head, pulling out a worn notebook. He flipped it open and sorted through a stack of requests piled inside it. He glanced up and saw that the woman looked mildly unimpressed with the two young men across from him.

Her tone, however, was cordial. “Uh, I think I’ll be able to handle things on my own. I wouldn’t want to interrupt your meal.” She turned back towards the cook as he held out the requests, obviously uncomfortable with any more small talk.

“There’s all the rank seven hunts we got,” Takka humored her, keeping the conversation strictly on topic so she could escape the unwanted social interaction as soon as possible. “Lemme know which one you pick.”

The first hunter--who had been taking a sip of his water--choked. “R-rank seven? You’re a Guardian?!”

“Err, yeah.” The young woman suppressed a grin at the disbelief on the two hunter’s faces as she pulled her hat down a little further. Takka could tell she was still anxious, but now more smugly so. “Aaanyways… This one looks good, Takka.”

He took the slip and frowned. “Aah, actually you can’t have that one. S’already been taken, but the three boys huntin’ it have put it on hold. Must’ve slipped my mind to mark it down... Sorry ‘bout that.”

“Oh, it’s fine.” She shrugged, practically diving back into the stack before the other two eavesdropping could interrupt. “There are plenty to choose from, after all.”

The second of the male hunters had suddenly frowned, turning to Takka. “Three rank seven guys… You don’t mean those Crown City lookin’ bunch, do you?”

The first hunter was still gawking at the woman, but he also piped up at the comment. “Oh, didn’t they used to be a larger group? Like I heard that ‘Cor the Immortal’ from the Lucian Crownsguard was with them sometimes…”

“One of them was even rumored to be Prince Noctis himself. No one really knows if it was actually him, but… Were those the guys on that hunt?”

“Yep, that’s them alright. Put all their hunts on hold after talkin’ ‘bout some Niff bases croppin’ up.” Takka shook his head. “Crazy bunch, but if anyone’ll take those nasties down, it’ll be them.”

“Damn…”

“Who would’ve thought there are people still fighting against the Empire, even now?”

“Takka,” The young woman interjected, surprising the cook. She lowered the stack of hunting requests. “You mentioned something about Niflheim bases, right?”

“Sure did. In fact there’s one goin’ up near Ostium Gorge. Saw an airship flyin’ in this mornin’.” He replied.

The young woman nodded slowly, looking thoughtful. After a moment, she clasped her hands together decisively, her green eyes shining. “Okay.”

“O...kay?” The three men regarded her with confusion, but she was already moving.

“Takka, I’ll need you to put my hunts on hold for now, too.” She straightened out the hunt requests before handing them back. “Can you call HQ and let them know?”

“Wh… Uhh, alright…” Takka still looked bewildered, but he marked her name down nonetheless. “So, yer really gonna join that fight?”

“Sure, I have some experience with Niff tech.” All the shyness the woman’s demeanor had vanished in her excitement. “If I can do anything to strike back against the Empire, I should do it before they set anything too big up.” She turned on her heel. “Say ‘hi’ to Cindy for me, okay?”

“H-hey, wait!” The two hunters--who had been rendered completely speechless by the exchange--called her back before she could take off into the darkness. “Guardian lady… Who are you?”

“Oh, I guess I forgot…” She spun back around, but continued retreating backwards out of the diner as she yanked off her hat--revealing a short haircut that was now sticking out messily at the sides and top from being shoved under a cap all day--and stuffed it in her knapsack. “Name’s Aylin. Aylin Noctua.”

[rushedin-a]

‘ here we go! rock and roll, buckaroo! ‘

who  you  gonna  call  ?  !  please  not  them  /  accepting  :  @dxdger​

                         ❝   wha   ---  wait,   h  ---  hold  on  !   ❞     it’s  interspersed  with  laughter.    tries  his  hardest  to  remain  stoic,    all  hands  on  hips  &  authoritative  as  he  glowers  at  other,    but  words  leave  him  surprised  &  he  laughs,    brows  furrowing  before  shooting  upwards  as  words  seem  to  register  &  he  grips  other  by  arm  as  he  turns.     ❝   mmmmm,    nope  !  don’t  think  so.    sorry  buckaroo.    this  is  a,     uh,     reclaimers  only  type  thing,    know  what  i  mean  ?  we’re  on  that  grand  relic  huntin’  grind,    you  know,     &  i’unno  if  y’all  seekers  could,    like,    handle  it  ?  i  mean,    remember  what  happened  last  time  with  carey  &  the  rock  that  i’d  just  shit  out  &  that  whole  debacle  ?  best  leave  this  shit  to  the  professionals.   ❞     a  smile  despite  harsh  tone  of  words  as  he  passes  other,    hand  coming  down  on  top  of  hair  almost  playfully  to  show  he  means  no  harm.     ❝    but,    uh,    who  knows  ?  !  maybe  by  next  relic  collection  you’ll  be  totally  beefy  &,    like,    ten  times  stupider  !  just  keep  climbin’  that  B  .  O  .   B  social  ladder,     my  man.   ❞

[authenticaussie]

P X (i loooved that mas soulmate ficlet, by the ay!!!!

aWWWWW thank you!!!! (for a minute I thought u meant Sparks and I was like eyyy that’s a bit long ago but STILL thanks!! but no I bet u meant the New One w/ ace bein’ his usual angsty self at least i’m hoping you did omg ///sweats) THANKS REGARDLESS IM SO GLAD YOU LIKED IT ;u;

P - Invent a random AU for any fandom (we always need more ideas).

l o l okay like Fandom Specifics are always helpful for these otherwise I’ll just do w/e im thinking atm which is usually one piece haha so not a big deal when half of my followers are here for that OP content //sweats

but atm it’s a danny phantom / static shock crossover that I thought up y e a r s ago and just re-remembered/rethought of a few days prior when DP blew up again and like???????? Richard Foley?????? Tucker Foley???

Related mcnerd sidekick dudes is what I’m saying. And like !!!! fam dudes for a family reunion and DP / SS team up and ghost huntin and Static accidentally frying all of Tucker’s stuff and being dorky teenagers together and Richie and Virgil telling each other ghost stories and having the time of their lives in amity park bc omfg???? it’s a huge game to them???? bc they found discarded ghost tech and richie’s a genius he’s Got This and they’re not dumb (debatable, guys, debatable) they know those Hero Signs and are little SHIT S to Tucker and tease tucker and make it seem like they Know he’s a sidekick / that he knows phantom but aren’t being very subtle with their own identities and what I’m saying is basically tucker’s like MAYBE TRY AND BE MORE SUBTLE DANNY and danny’s like n a h no-one’s spotted me yet!

dumbass

d u m b a s s 

the other one was married couple / old couple richie/virgil and accidental science / magic kid tucker foley and they’re still not subtle about their secret identities (imagine parents flirting trope but then imagine parents flirting trope where they compliment their s/o’s alter ego and come up with more and more ludicrous / ridiculous things for each other). BEING SUPER GOOD DADS!!! BEING SUPPORTIVE AND WAITING FOR TUCKER TO COME TO THEM ABOUT BEING SUPPORT FOR THE HERO OF AMITY PARK!!!! SUBTLY HELPING TUCKER WITH THINGS LIKE SELF DEFENSE AND FITNESS AND STEALTH AND STUDYING SO THAT HE CAN HELP HIS FRIEND AND STILL BE HEALTHY AND O K A Y 

Richie being the support system that he wished he and Virgil had had back when they’d been teen heroes.

(of course tho, a side helping of Teasing bc they can’t believe their son hasn’t figured out that they totally know he’s helping out Phantom, and they totally know who Phantom is because SERIOUSLY. Looks exactly like danny??????/ danny of the ghost hunting parents???? danny who starts looking as sleep deprived and stressed as they did, back when they first started)

Virgil subtly telling danny / tucker how to study while working out / doing other things (aka listening to tracks with notes while on patrol so that they could study,) the best times for sleep (aka how to Survive on 3 hours a night when ghost attacks won’t stop for two weeks). The best things for energy that won’t leave you crashing later. Healthy food recipes packed w/ what they might need; iron and magnesium because of the lack of sleep they’re getting, vitamen c to prevent them from getting sick bc of their lower immune systems…..It’s just. Super Cute.   

X - A trope which you are almost certain to love in any fandom.

SECRET MOTHERFUCKIN IDENTITIES 

SECRET!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! IDENTITIES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Look okay man superhero aus are my thing I love them i love them i l o v e them. And like ???? in tropes?????/ pinning. Pinning and slowbuild make my heart a c h e I love it i love it i love it.

Plus i mean polyamoury has my heart ofc but. in absence of polyamoury. I will totally live for the silly love triangles that come with secret identities omg theyre the BEST. also HERO RESCUES!!! VILLAIN SCHEMES!!! A H HHHH hero aus are so good!! ;u;