#also why the fuck are you stealing the copper?

[doodlingwren]

Can't believe that my fucking train is once again running 1 hour late because someone stole all the fucking copper from the railway line like omg stoooppp why are u so silly ahah stop making this prank it's too epic ahahah

[iamthecomet]

I neeeeeeed chaos twins Dew and Sunshine gettin in trouble with Mountain and Ifrit heuehha

hehheehehe. Ok, first of all. I have so many thoughts about Sunshine and Dewdrop and I never let myself explore them, and I don't know why? And also, angry!Mountain? And if you were hoping for smut, I'm sorry. You'll have to settle for giggling ghouls instead.

"DEWDROP!" Sunshine hides her face in Dew's collarbone and giggles. He braces his hand on the back of her head, fingers dug deep into her copper curls to press her face tighter to his chest. It's either in solidarity, or an attempt to suffocate her. The broom closet is small. Big enough to hold three brooms, a mop, and two very small ghouls. As it is, they're pressed together at every point. Sunshine's thigh is wedged between Dew's. His chin is in her hair. His heart is hammering against her forehead. Mountain's footsteps get closer. He's big and angry, and so he's stomping down the hall like he's trying to topple the abbey with each step. Sunshine tips her head up so she can look at Dew in the dim closet. The only light is a slant of it coming in through the door. It casts over Dew's face, highlighting one eye, and the bridge of his nose. His mouth is tipped up into a smirk that's getting dangerously close to being an actual smile.

Mountain's footsteps slow. Dewdrop must see something on Sunshine's face, a noise bubbling in her throat because suddenly his hand is clamped over her mouth, fingers digging roughly into her cheek. He looks down at her, eyes wild and wide. She's sure he's too hot to touch for any of the other ghouls, but to her, he just feels like the comforting warmth of a bonfire on a cool night. Suddenly, the light expands. The door opens. Dew stumbles, toppling to the floor as soon as the door isn't there to lean on anymore. He drags Sunshine with him, landing in a heap at Mountain's feet. Ifrit rounds the corner as if the commotion summoned him. It probably did. He and Mountain have been looking for them for a while. Dew and Sunshine have been hopping from room to room trying to avoid their wrath. In her defense, stealing their weed and replacing it with kitchen herbs seemed like a great idea at the time. And it's still pretty fucking funny. Though, to be honest, she'd rather be dealing with high Mountain and Ifrit, instead of you know, being high and dealing with Mountain and Ifrit. Dew groans from beneath her. Heaving out a sigh that sounds a lot like he's finally giving up. That's no good. "Get up," Mountain demands.

Sunshine looks up at him and Ifrit, arms crossed, brows furrowed down. Ifrit's tail flicks back and forth like a cat getting ready to pounce. And that's no good either. She doesn't want to deal with the consequences now. She's still having fun. She looks over their heads, to the beams of light pouring in through one of the massive gable windows. She smiles sweetly up at Mountain. It's cruel, she knows, because he's a sucker for a soft smile, she watches his guard drop, just a little. And she reaches up, makes a fist, and suddenly the room is flooded with sunlight, blinding everyone but her. She jumps to her feet, hauling Dew up by the wrist, and bolts. "Go, go, go, go" she shrieks, dragging Dew behind her as she skids around the corner. "SUNSHINE!" Ifrit roars from the other hallway. Dew cackles. He's picking up speed now that he can see again. He overtakes her easily, adjusting their hold so their fingers are laced together as they run. He grins at her, "I've got the perfect place."

[toaster-boi]

frame-by-frame of Episode 6: Dead End!

link to part 2

link to part 3

!!! SPOILERS UNDER THE CUT !!!

gloves like we saw on Nori/Yeva in the photos from Cabin Fever, but no shoes. practicality over style, since based on The Promening we can assume that gloves interfere with the Solver's telekinesis.

mood tbh

wait...cloned? well i guess it makes more sense than a copy given the biomechanical stuff

I WANNA FUCKING TELEPORT ALL OVER THE PLACE WHILE RUNNING. WHY DOES SHE GET TO AND I DON'T. ANGY.

hehe looks like someone still hasn't figured out flying

WHY YOU SLAP HIMS???

"core stabilisation"? was it already unstable, but human tech kept it from going extinction mode?

she's gonna fucking steal it i'm CALLING IT here

it's chewing his hat i'm gonna expl

from what i can see, all the DD corpses have been gutted. removing the core is probably the best way to neutralize a DD permanently, considering Eldritch J hasn't shown up again (i swear if i jinxed it with this i will react in a normal, very hinged manner)

"not to be overdramatic but CORE COLLAPSE" yeah they knew the core was unstable and implemented security protocols for it. and also made a failsafe that would neutralize the test subjects. because nobody else made a dedicated anti-Solver weapon that failed, uzi's railgun definitely killed on the first shot and the DDs neutralized every Solver drone on Copper 9 (:

so the sentinels were the "lights below" from that drone's crawlspace Uzi found in Cabin Fever. makes sense.

also, those drones' hair doesn't match any of the named trio. guess that's fresh ammo for people's OCs!

lol, lmao even

dangerdangerdanger it's fucking BAIT DON'T TOUCH IT

NO!!!

NO!!!!!!!

(also we finally see N using the submachine gun!)

I. TOLD. Y'ALL.

the pose. the face. the way he tips his hat. fantastic

i gotta know what kinda cryptids they got in Space Appalachia

oh hey that's 029 from the opening scene! (got the name from the subtitles) i sure hope nothing bad happened to her!

oh. oh. i guess it was N's nanite acid that killed Eldritch J's core? also, overheating slowing them down makes sense as to why coolant is an issue for them. also those are names on some of them, meaning that some of Alice's coworkers went goofy before the DDs showed up, who likely got put in the unlabeled jars

more proof for the "Uzi being at least partially dead (technically)" theory, since those same Xs showed up on the drone Braiden accidentally killed in Cabin Fever

mood tbh

honestly the last thing i expected there was for V to flinch at something like that, considering. well. the first episode

the popcorn is batteries

why do they have to keep traumatizing this poor guy

I FUCKING KNEW IT

I KNEW IT WAS BLACK HOLE TOMFUCKERY

goddamn, poor tessa

t h e f u c k ?

gonna continue this in another post, ran out of images

[hidden-1n-the-sand]

You know what the lex rant is not going in an ask bc tumblr is a little bitch.

@raspberrysmoon here’s everything i have about lex in the murder kai au so far-

she and hannah were adopted by holloway and duke 5 years before the main events of the au

Her backstory is pretty much the same as doll’s, a murder drone(in this case, grace) brutally murdered her family, leaving lex as the only survivor, leading lex to a quest for revenge that would end with her own demise(i think. Im still not sure about that part)

lex is a host for The Absolute Solver. So was hannah. I dont. I dont really have the mental energy to explain rn how the solver works, but the basics are- different LIB sibling, different patch/version of the solver. The only version of the solver that has no influence on the host is v.w.1.2(webby’s solver. Also i know nothing about programming).

Lex has v.w.1(wiggly) of the solver. Fun fact about this this version of the solver- its influence only works if a host is empty enough, if a host has nothing left to live for, if they’re drowning in grief, in despair, it’ll take that and turn it into pure wrath(get it. Bc. Because wiggly o wrath. I’m so creative /s). Also nibbly is in every version of the solver, hence why hosts need to drink oil to survive. Anyways.

The rest of the story is pretty much the same up until ep 7. Lex casually murders some of her classmates, steph is there too and she. She fucking helps lex hide the bodies. Steph lures Grace inside the colony so that lex could kill her(the mission fails miserably, steph somehow falls in love with grace and ends up saving her). Lex fights kai and gets shot. She disappears for like 2 episodes and then comes back in ep 5 and steals the key(that’s. That’s a whole other lore thing that i do not want to explain rn) to find the patch that may “exorcise” the solver’s influence on her so that it may never possess her and destroy what’s left of copper-9

and then episode 7 happens. i. I do not want to kill off lex. But i think it would be more merciful if I did. At least in death she’ll be reunited with her family. Idk. I haven’t fully decided. She could die. Or she could live and suffer even more. Idk yet.

also lex is german.

[magnoliamyrrh]

also, i guess on the only positive spin on that, this is part of why i think "the coppers will show up if you pirate" is bullshit

i grew up w things being pirated for me in romania and i grew up pirating; when we came to america i was told to be careful

but nah fam. people are getting away on the internet wirh the most god awful fucking shit under the sun with zero fucking consequences. ill take my damned pirated movies and music and games and whatever else

and honestly? if the fbi shows up to my house over a fucking movie, im getting my ass send to jail for misbehaving with zero regret because ill be yelling at the bastards that theyre either sick fucks or careless for letting the most god awful shit happen on the internet, but coming for my ass cuz im "stealing" money from corporations, but they cant do fucking nothing about the piles upon piles of cp torture and snuff. fuck off ill take a criminal record for the chance to curse them out about it

[violets-and-books]

I've got it. My fantasy fic. It's here:

The Crows Species(?):

Kaz = Dhamphir

Strengths: Enhanced senses and strength, ability to turn into a crow (there are four respective Dhamphir clans. One can turn into wolves, one can turn into crows (the one Kaz is descended from), one can turn into Snakes, and the others can turn into Ravens), cannot get sick through normal spread of disease (so how did Jordie die, I wonder 🙃).

Weaknesses: Unlike his distant kin he CAN go out in the day, but he will get extremely sick and can die if he is out for more than 48 hours in sunlight without a long resting period in the dark (one night cycle isn't enough).

Jesper = Mistborn

Strengths: Alomancey, essentially.

Weaknesses: Mistborn vs. Mistborn fights can and will get ugly, can be rendered powerless with Aluminum, and is blind in mist or fog.

Wylan = Baros

Strengths:

Weaknesses:

Nina = Seer

Strengths: Can sense a person's general morality (kind of like "sense evil" in DND), can draw disease out of someone's blood, can speak to the dead but cannot raise them like necromancers. (Aditi was a seer).

Weaknesses: Too much drawn disease without any disposal of it will lead to sickness or death, Seer's become easily addicted to drugs that would soothe you/make you spacey because in order to read people their emotions become heightened and it gets very hard for them to function with too much use of their power, but most of them make their income through using their powers for people; Then it's just a vicious cycle.

Matthias = Thug/Pewterarm

Strengths: Ability to burn Pewter in him and enhance his physical abilities.

Weaknesses: Your typical human weakness.

Inej = Wraith

Strengths: Can go through walls and doors and windows etc., can *poof* into a shadow, doesn't make noise at night, telepathy communication.

Weaknesses: Can be killed if the body is disturbed at night in ANY WAY, can only access most of her powers at night, can't speak at night due to the "not making any sound" thing.

I'll send you a different ask for plot so you don't have a post that's a million lines long 😂

WYLAN'S ONE IS CRACKING ME UP, I-

🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

Okay, um, I'm looking at the rest now

Kaz as a dhampir (I can definitely spell that)! That's why his voice is so raspy! He's just fucking sick all the time because he's literally allergic to sunlight

"Kaz, do you want to maybe go back inside-"

Kaz, who's just seen Inej laughing, silhouetted by the sun, in a voice that sounds like it should be coming from a dead body: No, fuck off

Dhamphirs aren't made, are they? They're born, right? Like, from a human and a vampire? That's where they come from

Maybe Jordie was his stepbrother? Like, Jordie was fully human but then his mum hooked up with a vampire (cos you truly do only live once) and had Kaz and then both their parents DIED and then the firepox came and yeah

Idk exactly how mistborns work BUT I'm just imagining Jesper in an all-out fight with another mistborn and having, like, iron or copper or something dripping from his nose like blood. Idk if that can happen but it looks cool!

Again, also imagining Wylan chasing Jesper with a fucking broom or a lute or something like "stop stealing my experiments" while Jesper's running for his goddamn life, a beaker of one of Wylan's alloys clutched to his chest. It's so fucking funny to me. I might just be really tired

With Nina you really have thought of everything. I've got nothing else to say to that apart from OW

"Weaknesses: Your typical human weaknesses" - GET RECKT, MATTHIAS-

Inej's is perfect! I didn't consider the not being able to speak, that's really cool!

This is fucking phenomenal bestie

[pleafyistired]

rambles about fluffer (bitch). bcs i can

well here we go FLUFFER UGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH. that THING. too bad its only like 1 day old so not too much biology is said about them except its pokemon evolving..???? for some reason????? i dont KNOW IM NOT A BOOTLEG POKEMON AND FLUFFY'S CHILD. /hj

do you think their biology is fucked up. bcs bootleg. do you think their dna is breaking down right now as we speak (has anyone read the what if by Randall Munroe and read that chapter about what if all our dna just vanished) are they going through the walking ghost phase (you can google this but this is like the phase of feeling fine and normal after eating poisonous mushroom/radiation/losing dna (according to that book) despite your body is literally dying). why are they talking like that also. is their throat also behaving weirdly. is their whole body reversed. the fact that after they pop up that bootleg copper also pop up means theyre using DNA near them to manipulate and fucked up to create a new "person". like MAYBE THEYRE NOT EVEN HUMAN. they might be some creature fucking up DNA to mimic another creature that will bring some sort of advantage to them. they may not even know it. Maybe the… thing after stealing some other creature dna and using that for themselves, they're now another totally different species. (i SWEAR there something in nature similar to it BUT I CANT REMEMBER IT FUCK-)

also! i also got some other thought not relating to biology to them too! theyre such The Chariot (reversed) to the fluffy's The Chariot. theyre like the Spiral (like the GLITCHING. THE FAKE IDENTITY. THE FAKE FRIENDSHIP. JUST VERY SPIRAL CORE) to fluffy's the Web (has anyone here listen to tma like i swear i remember one of the mutuals reblogged tma post). theyre the ILOVEYOU email virus vibe like i said (maybe i'll study their reproductive parts out of spite for WHAT THEY CALLED ME)

actually sure ill start. glitchy penis so it never gets hard. flat ass (hey fluffy ass is fat and since theyre the bootleg, flat ass /j) everything opposite of sexy. that ass turkey from miitopia is sexier than them (a sentence i never thought i would ever say)

[dragkingandreweldritch]

Might get lost in the askbox, but in regards to your comments about piercings! Surgical Steel is bullshit. It's just stainless steal like kitchenware is, and is normally actually plated steel over just shit cores, often which contain nickel. They don't have to disclose that it's steel plating because it "doesn't flake" but that's only if you don't expose it to body oils. That's why most surgical steel turns green or wears down to a copper color. If you get piercings, you should be getting Implant Grade Titanium. It's basically the "no one is allergic" metal that is used for medical implants, not just surgical tools that aren't meant to remain in the body. It can also be anodized to look gold, or in fun colors if you aren't into the silver look. I'd speak to a piercer and see if you could get a single post for a preexisting piercing, to test for sensitivity to it. Normally they can find a 18g post that will fit a traditional lobe piercing and don't charge too much for it. If they do, a site like bodyartforms(com) sell them really cheap, like less than 20$, just make sure you filter to implant grade, not just the normal "titanium" as that can also be plated. Implant Grade is solid thru and thru.

Anyways, sorry for the unsolicitated peircing spam, I'm just passionate about them and hate when people have bad experiences with metals that get marketed as hypoallergenic when they're fucking not.

Good luck with any future body mods, and have a good one! :D

omg no thank you so much for the unsolicited advice! my inbox is always open for that kind of thing <3

[tev-the-random]

(It didn't all fit in the tags so I'll just bring it to the post itself)

*deep breath*

I'm not gonna CHOOSE I'm gonna RANT. That was a silly small question, but I need to ramble.

Important to say! I'm not criticising the creators nor shitting on them or anything. I'm pretty happy with the stories we got and I adore what they've made! But! If I could magically get more content added to past stories, this is some stuff I am particularly curious about/would have loved to see more of:

Scott's Elsa arc. Specifically the Gem Being Frozen part. Currently writing a fic about it because it had SO MUCH ANGST POTENTIAL, IT'S INSANE-

On a similar note, Corrupted Gem. She got corrupted for .5 seconds and then it was over. It was such a perfect set up for some fantastic stuff to happen, sad she never got to go evil for a couple more episodes.

Also would have loved to see the Vampire Fwhip thing come into fruition. Both the twins deserved to be more Evil and Dark, but the fact that fWhip never even got to start on an arc he really wanted to make is just sad.

Ok, so remember that in Katherine's Empires season 1 finale she planted this magic seed given to her by the Overgrown and it turned into a mysterious giant flower? Maybe that was just the end of it and the flower is just there now. But I would have loved some explanation of what that was even supposed to be? WHAT WAS THAT FLOWER AND WHY WAS IT IMPORTANT??

The Crown arc in season 2 of Empires. Pixlriffs got withered to death by the crown and absolutely nothing came from it. He's just a ghost now. Nobody else was affected nor did we ever discover WHY that happened.

Scott's magic eye. He dropped a total of one (1) backstory dump on us about it and then it never came up again. Like, I know there was an easter egg in Witchcraft SMP about that eye-stealing skull, but just. Why? And why did his eye only ever actually see magic in like, two or three episodes? Well, obviously it would have been a pain to edit the colourful auras into every episode, but just the fact that Scott had that ability at all could have made him such a perfect asset for so many other plotlines!

Princess Katherine. Enough said.

The wisps guiding Princess Gem around Dawn? Gem said she was just larping the entire time, so what the hell were those???

The Sheriff shrine in Gobland. Like fwhip. Fwhip you don't just DO that and then never bring it up again. His whole obsession with the Sheriff went nowhere, the waste of batshit insane goblin-

Speaking of Sheriff, the Sheriff. Poor Jim got so taken over by the toy jokes that that was his entire series. He practically didn't get to do anything else. There was a point where his hat was implied to corrupt whoever wore it and he was supposed to get help from Joel to take it away from fWhip before the goblin went crazy, it even ended an episode on a cliffhanger, but once again, nothing happened.

The fact that Mayor Lizzie was hiding her identity never actually came up as a conflict. There were jokes about her cat tendencies, but nobody got to discover what she was.

Both E1 Pix and E2 False. RIP to our incomplete Copper Monarchs.

THE FUCKING FAE

(Switching to Witchcraft SMP real quick) not that it didn't get a conclusion, but more that it didn't make a whole lot of sense and I feel like a missed something: Bertha, darling, what the hell happened between you, your sister and your goat lover-

Ok I'm done lol

mcyt fans if you could choose one dropped plot thread/character arc to get a proper conclusion which would you choose

[simplynotcapable]

Temeraire AU for Visenya and Baelon?

The fact that someone else knows what Temeraire is makes me so unbelievably happy you have no idea

Baelon and Visenya (who probably would have normal British people names like James and Maddison or something but I refuse to call them that) grow up around dragons.

Baelon’s family have a long history of joining the Corps. His father, his grandparents, his great-grandparents—and so on it goes, sprinkled through with various aunts and uncles.

His mother dies when he’s a baby, and his father (retired since the death of his dragon) raises him rather awkwardly for six years. On his sixth birthday, though, his older sister and her Longwing snatch that little shit to become a runner. He doesn’t serve on Syrax because they’re related and favoritism, but she gets him on with an aviator she’s close with (they’re fucking) named Daemon.

Visenya’s an orphan, and she becomes a runner because she tries to rob Daemon.

Daemon is “married” to a woman called Rhea Royce, who lives on an estate on the outskirts of town. Now, Rhea Royce is a good person. Feeds the orphans, takes a few of them in to be looked after in her household when the orphanage on town gets overrun, so most of these children have a problem with the aviator husband their benefactor married just so she could keep her estate without any outside interference from a husband who’s around more than once a year.

Visenya watches a Regal Copper land, she watches an angry looking man wander into the house, and she goes scurrying immediately. She’s six years old. She doesn’t know the meaning of fear, and Rhea has told them over and over that dragons aren’t anymore likely to attack for no reason than people.

Daemon never brings his crew with him when he visits his wife, and he never stays more than eight-ten hours, so he doesn’t bother bringing in his bags. Caraxes is asleep, deep asleep, and Visenya weighs less than nothing when she weasels carefully up his harness to start poking her nose in places she doesn’t belong.

Caraxes wakes, eventually, of course, and he twists his head to peer at her. She freezes, elbow deep in Daemon’s bags.

“That,” he says, “is not yours.”

“What’s his is Lady Rhea’s and Lady Rhea says what’s hers is mine,” she counters, quickly.

“I assure you,” Caraxes says, “what is his is not hers because he is my captain. He is mine, as well as his things, and I gave you no leave to take any of it. Now scurry off, child, before I burn you.”

“Lying to children is wrong,” she says, standing up with hands on her hips, and Caraxes blinks. “Regal Coppers can’t breathe fire. There are no fire breathers in Britain, so there, you big bully.”

“I am not a bully.”

“Are so,” she says, stubbornly. “Bullies lie to children.”

“Bullies steal from sleeping dragons!”

“I can’t bully you,” she says, utterly outraged. “You are bigger than me.”

Caraxes considers, then grudgingly nods. “You are very small. Some might say unnaturally so. You cannot keep that!”

Visenya, attempting to slide a pouch of coin into her pocket, freezes. Then, she looks cannily up at Caraxes. “If I am yours, then is he not also mine, and his things, too?”

Caraxes hums for a moment. “But you are not mine.”

Visenya cocks her head. “Says who?”

Daemon finds Visenya sitting on Caraxes’s foreleg, his great beast’s head turned down towards her as she chatters nonsensically about…something. The dragon looks enamored, and he raises his head at Daemon’s approach.

“I am keeping her,” he says, smugly, as Visenya glowers down on her lady’s husband from above. “Her family is dead, which means they cannot object.”

“Caraxes,” Daemon says, so very tired, “you cannot keep one of Rhea’s orphans.”

“How,” asks Visenya, “would you stop him?”

Caraxes looks positively delighted when he lowers his head down to his captain. “Yes, Daemon, how would you stop me?”

“Why have you even come here?” Daemon asks, arms flung up. “Little children should not bother with dragons.”

“She was robbing us,” Caraxes says, still brightly. “But she stopped.”

“He woke up,” Visenya explains.

“I cannot take a child into the Corps without leave!”

Caraxes blinks. Visenya blinks, too.

Daemon goes back inside to talk to Rhea, who takes one look at Visenya perched like a gnat on Caraxes’s leg and bursts out laughing. “Take her into the Corps,” she says, wiping at her eyes. “Little devil could use some order.”

Daemon takes a child into the Corps without leave.

Baelon and Visenya take to living on dragonback like fish take to water, and they take to each other, too. There’s other runners on Caraxes, of course, other children about, but it’s Baelon who she bonds with.

“One cannot rob a dragon,” he says, disapproving, when he finds out the whole story.

“You cannot, perhaps,” she says, sniffing, “but not all of us are talentless.”

They stay joined at the hip after that.

They’re fifteen when one of the other ensigns starts making passes that she does not appreciate. He does not seem to know what no means, and so Visenya cuts the strap holding him to the rigging and dangles him off Caraxes’s back in midair until he pisses himself.

Daemon punishes her, of course.

She takes it smiling.

“Will you dangle me from the rigging if I tell you I have been enamored with you since we were children?” Baelon asks her several days later, and she rolls her eyes.

“Perhaps I will if you ask another silly question.”

They’re seventeen when a Longwing hatchling escapes. They’re landed from drilling, Baelon and Visenya bickering to themselves over which of them will make lieutenant first—they have no doubt it will be them, eventually, because Baelon is Daemon’s favorite and Visenya is Caraxes’s—as they go about their duties, and then there’s shouting and yelling and a little thing shooting across the sky with a Westerling in hot pursuit.

“Is that a hatchling?” she asks.

“No,” Baelon says, drily, “surely it is only a deformed squirrel.”

She makes a crude gesture at him, and he laughs.

“Must have thrown the harness,” she says, watching it feint left and then dive and then back up. “Quick little thing. Wonder how it got out.”

“Longwing,” Baelon observes. “They’ll smack that one into the breeding grounds.”

Visenya has many thoughts about the breeding grounds, and it’s like her scoff draws the hatchling’s attention because it dives straight for them just as the Westerling is about to catch it.

Visenya yelps when it hits her, going so fast she careens right backwards. Hits the ground hard, the dragonset sprawled across her torso, and it looks down at her and hisses.

“I’m not the one who did anything to you,” she says, insulted. “Don’t go hissing at me, you little cunt.”

Baelon laughs.

The dragon blinks.

“What,” he says, “is a cunt?”

The world stops turning, and Visenya looks at him with wide eyes. “You are…speaking to me.”

“I do not think that is what a cunt is.”

She answers the question. He considers her answer, then nods sharply. “You will do. The other girl was positively vile. I could not abide her.”

“I am only a midwingman,” Visenya says.

“I do not know what that is and do not care,” says rhe dragonet.

“This is terrible unorthodox,” Baelon says with interest, and she realizes the Westerling is landing and its captain stalking towards her with a red face. “You have not named or harnessed him.”

“My name is Vyper,” says the dragon. “And I shall wear a harness so long as you swear to take it off again.”

“I can do that,” Visenya says, faintly.

Baelon becomes a lieutenant first, but only because he’s hers.

“I did not agree to give them to you,” Caraxes sulks later, watching unhappily as Vyper sprawls nearby and devours whatever they put in front of them. “They are mine, I do not see why you should have them both.”

“Because I am young and fast and have poison, and you are old and fat and will die soon,” Vyper answers, flatly.

They do not get along, needless to say.

The girl meant to be Vyper’s captain is terribly wroth about the whole thing, especially since Vyper is quite vocal about thinking her “rotten to the core, like rancid meat” and disdains any mention of her. Visenya gets a formation.

Word spreads about a Naval officer chosen by a Chinese dragon.

“I am more special than that,” Vyper says, because Vyper thinks himself more special than everyone. He is anxious Visenya will leave him and go looking for a Chinese dragon instead, after he finds out what Temeraire’s egg was worth, but he would rather die than admit such a weakness. “So he is Chinese. I could melt him just the same.”

“I know, beloved,” Visenya assures him.

“I was beloved, before you,” Baelon says, only half-joking.

“I am sure you miss your relevance very much,” Vyper says, unimpressed.

Visenya bites back a laugh, and Baelon looks at her with raised brows. “Yes, Baelon. Didn’t you know you’re irrelevant?”

(“Feel pretty relevant at the moment,” he says that night, mouth on her neck and hands sliding up her legs, and she nods frantically.

“Yes, very relevant, I am sorry.”)

Vyper’s disdain for other dragons comes in useful when the sickness comes. He’s one of the last to fall ill, and he recovers quickly once William Laurence returns with the cure.

“I could have found it,” he says, “if they’d sent us. Temeraire is not special.”

“I know,” she soothes, wondering if she looks as haggard as she feels. She’s been useless since he got sick, absolutely losing her mind. “Oh, beloved, I know.”

Visenya meets William Laurence for the first time with the cure in his hands and a wild look in his eye, and he stills at the sight of her.

“They are going after the French dragons,” she says, because Baelon voiced the worry to her as soon as the dragons began recovering. Anxious as to what their government would do with a deadly sickness now no longer a danger. “No?”

Laurence says nothing. She wonders if he will kill her, if he’s capable of doing so, but it does not matter because she steps aside.

“Don’t let them catch you,” she warns, and he’s gone.

She volunteers to go with Laurence and Granby to Australia, when all is said and done. She is sick of the fighting, honestly, sick of the death, and she does not trust the people who send her orders anymore.

But she trusts Laurence, who became a traitor to save the dragons, and Daemon is high enough on the chain now to wiggle her request through.

Vyper does not like Temeraire any better when meeting him, either. “He thinks he is so smart,” he mutters, “with his mathematics and his reading and his political inclinations.”

“You’re smart,” Baelon tells him.

“Do be quiet,” Vyper sniffs back, and Visenya hides her giggles in Baelon’s neck.

There are four eggs on the ship, and one of them hatches just as they come in sight of the shore. A Yellow Reaper, who both Vyper and Temeraire spend plenty of time chattering to while she’s in the egg, and she breezes right past Temeraire’s crew (he looks so very relieved, poor thing) to Baelon.

Vyper, Baelon’s strongest and most jealous critic, looks suddenly very alarmed. “You are not supposed to take my crew! His crew, over there, the big one!”

“Quiet, beloved,” Visenya says.

“He will leave us,” Vyper answers, tail lashing. “Oh, I stole you from Caraxes, and now this little cunt will take Baelon from me, this is not fair.”

Baelon asks her name, which both Temeraire and Vyper and Iskiera (who even Vyper is a little intimidated by, though he won’t admit it) told her she could pick on her own.

“Winter,” she says, and then, “may I have something to eat?”

(“They will give me orders to remain,” Baelon says anxiously that night. “That is what her egg was for. Starting the breeding grounds. They will tell me to stay.”

“Then I will stay,” Visenya says, bored, as if she is not throwing away the world, and he pales.

“They will not give up a Longwing in war time.”

“Let them try and take us,” she answers, fierce. “We stay together.”)

“It is not that I would have missed you,” Vyper says the next day, when Visenya informs him of this plan. “I would not have, though you are as much mine as Visenya’s and so it is really not right that you took to another dragon without my leave. But she would have been quite miserable without you, and I am nothing if not selfless.”

Baelon and Visenya exchange a silent look.

“You are not selfless,” Winter observes. “You are quite a self-interested shite, actually.”

“Did you teach her to curse in the egg?” Baelon accuses, and Vyper huffs.

“You cannot prove it was me.”

Laurence and Granby leave, eventually, onto war and other things—Temeraire says quite brightly that if Laurence must take a wife, he would not so mind if it was Visenya, and Vyper and Baelon both react as if they’ve been shot—that drag them away. Laurence is sad to leave their little valley, even to be reinstated, but he is relieved to leave Baelon and Visenya behind to look after things.

“The war will go on,” Baelon says, and she laughs.

“What has Britain ever done for me, compared to you? No, we stay together. Us and our dragons and this place. It will be a good life. Unless you—unless you’d like me to go?”

She hasn’t even considered that, and she feels her face go pale, but Baelon’s mouth is already on her forehead. “I would not let you leave my sight if I did not have to. I only do not want you to regret it.”

“I could live a thousand lives,” she says, honestly, “without ever regretting you.”

“Disgusting,” Vyper says.

“I think it’s sweet,” Winter says, blinking.

Vyper, somehow, manages to glower. “You are dim. Get yourself together.”

[noodyl-blasstal]

Buying people awful holiday gifts is better than buying them good ones. Here’s a fic about it.

--

The man had been nosing about the magnet stand for the last 20 minutes and Lup was starting to wonder if there was some super low stakes shoplifting going on. Nothing on that carousel was worth more than a copper. They were absolute trash compared to nearly everything else in here, but each to their own. Lup had been enjoying the view, and she wasn’t a narc. They didn’t pay her enough to care, but this guy was hot and she was bored so it was time to engage.

“Are you okay, my dude?” Lup asked as she swung her feet down from the desk and shoved the textbook she’d been reading to the side.

The man jumped, and spun towards her voice, looking shocked.

“I won’t narc if you’re planning to take some, but I will judge you because there’s much better stuff to steal here.” Lup continued as she walked round the desk towards him.

The man looked panicked. “I’m not stealing.” He said. “I’m, just, er, trying to decide.” 

Lup rolled her eyes. 

“Uh huh, sure.” As if she’d believe he’d just been staring at these terrible magnets for ages because he actually wanted one.

The man looked more concerned. “No, really. Look, you can help me.” He turned the carousel slightly and pointed at a terrible rendering of a map of Goldcliff with ‘New Elfington’ written in wonky script over it. “Is this worse than this?” The man spun the carousel further this time and pointed to a magnet which showed a variety of animals with two horns and the phrase ‘Too horny for Old Elfington’ sprawled across the top.

“What’s the criteria? If we’re doing science, we’re doing it properly, Bluejeans.” Lup absolutely needed to know more.

“Bluejeans?” The man looked baffled, Lup pointed at his denim clad legs and the corner of his mouth quirked.

“Your name’s Bluejeans now, I’m Lup. Stop stalling - gimme the sweet sweet rubric.” Lup was too intrigued to let him stall any more.

“Okay, so, my friend Krav and I get each other terrible tourist tat whenever we travel for work. We’re moving down here in a few months, so I need to get him something truly appalling before it’s no longer considered a tourist destination.” Bluejeans was still staring intently at the magnets.

“Does he have to display it in his home as if he got it on purpose?” Lup felt like this was an important distinction. “And is he a map nerd like you?”

“I’m not, I’m not a map nerd!” Bluejeans sounded indignant

“Then why do you like this one?” Lup pointed to the Goldcliff/New Elfington mash up magnet.

“Because, it’s, the, er, the paint’s bad.” Bluejeans couldn’t even make eye contact and had turned a weird shade of red.

“Neeeeeeeeeerrrrrrrrrd.” Lup teased. Bluejeans looked down at his feet and she worried she’d gone too far until he looked up at her with narrowed eyes.

“And why would I need to be a map nerd to like this one?” He asked, quirking an eyebrow. Fuck if that wasn’t hot. Lup felt the tips of her ears burning and hoped desperately he didn’t notice the flush in them.  “Neeeeeeeeeeerrrrrrrrd” Bluejeans teased back. 

Lup narrowed her eyes, and he seemed to panic slightly at that. It was sweet to see someone so overtly worried about upsetting her, she laughed instead. “You got me. Chagirl loves cartography. Anyway, displaying the magnet?” 

Bluejeans grinned. “Yes, they have to go somewhere prominent.” 

Lup couldn’t help but laugh, she wondered what Bluejeans’ house was like - he must also have a weird mash of terrible tourist stuff everywhere. Probably had a lot of books too… he was clearly a massive nerd. Maybe he had a library? Lup couldn’t believe she’d reached a point in life where that sounded incredibly hot to her, but here she was. Bluejeans in just his bluejeans in his library? Perfection!

“Okay, definitely the two horny one.” Lup plucked it off and handed it to Bluejeans, noting with interest that he’d gone an even darker shade of pink at that. Their fingers brushed as he took it from her, and she didn’t appreciate the swoopy feeling in her stomach when they did. She absolutely had to leave this nice, innocent nerd to his day. He wasn’t even here long term… yet… he might not even be into women, let alone her specifically. Maybe he was actually married to Krav and just told people they were friends in case they were homophobes? Yeah, that seemed likely, they were a nice gay couple with a beautiful library and a weird collection of mildly sexual tourist magnets. She was not in with a shot here.

“I’ll defer to your expertise.” Bluejeans replied, then clearly panicked about the connotations of implying her expertise was in horniness. “I mean, er, your, your magnet selling expertise, not that, not, not anything else, you’re just doing your job, your magnet job. Magnets.”

Lup couldn’t help but snort at that. Fuck, this guy was great. 

“My magnets job, yep. Lup Tacco: Magnet Executive!” Lup grabbed the magnet back from him, took it to the till, and placed it reverently in a brown paper bag. Poor Bluejeans was radiating embarrassment at this point. “Right, take care of this, and make sure Krav puts it front and centre on the fridge.” 

Bluejeans relaxed slightly, and took the bag. “I’ll make sure he knows. Lup: Head of Magnets, said front and centre. Mere mortals can’t argue with that.” 

Lup snorted. “It’s nice to be respected,” she replied. “Anyway, thanks for stopping in today Bluejeans, it really broke up my day. Enjoy the rest of your trip, and I’m sure I’ll see you again when you both move here.” When Bluejeans looked puzzled she continued. “I assume Krav will want at least six more of those bad boys.” And grinned wide.

“How could anyone resist?” Bluejeans replied. Lup’s traitorous, swoopy stomach read too far into it. “Thanks Lup! It was lovely to meet you.”

“You too Bluejeans!” She waved as he backed out of the shop, looking like he wanted to say more, but awkwardly stepping further towards the door every time he seemed like he was about to open his mouth. 

It was only once he’d left the store, giving an awkward final wave as he crossed the threshold, that Lup realised.

“He actually stole the magnet.” She said, shaking her head and laughing just as Bluejeans ran back into the store, panting, and looking aghast.  “Lup! I stole the magnet!!!”

[whumblr]

Antagonising

Home is where the hurt is: Part 1 - Continued from Part 49

-

Zayne looked up at the tall office building looming over him and gathered his nerves.

Had he ever been this scared, walking into that office? When he fucked up the first time on a job, maybe? Or, no wait, fucking up the second time was worse, fully knowing the consequences that time. Where he knew someone was going to die and he could only pray that it was going to be him...

Because while he was never going to involve and kill outsiders, Emery had already proven it to be no trouble. For him, it wasn’t a bluff. It was just delivering on a promise.

Jay might have been scared yesterday that Zayne was going to kill him, but Zayne knew what’s what: he didn’t have to. His employer was more than capable.

Also, he wasn’t going to. He didn’t want to kill Jay.

But good god, Jay actually getting him by the balls like that certainly had made him consider murder... Or at least some straight up good old violence. It was good to punch out his fears on Jay’s face, but he had to admit he was caught. And that he’d like to see Emery disappear behind bars. It was time.

Trouble was that he’d probably have to go right along. But he had the choice between getting killed by some other pawn or going to jail, and it was an easy choice to make.

Besides, it’s not like he was free now. At least in prison he wouldn’t have to keep up anymore with all the unreasonable and sometimes even dangerous demands. And he’d have permanent housing, and food, not having to steal leftovers from Jay… no one to tease or play with though… Myeah, maybe he’d miss that.

But actually getting Emery arrested was a dangerous road and he didn’t trust the police as far as he could throw ‘em. Far as he knew, they were all a little too eager to dismiss – or blatantly ignore – the idea that it was very suspicious how all members of the same gang ended up dead in stupid accidents or fights. And with all that Emery did for him to cover up both his own and Zayne’s involvement with every piece of sabotage, Zayne was sure he had someone on the inside to clean up after him.

He was pretty sure that the police already knew everything the naïve Jay and Dennis had risked their necks trying to collect. They didn’t care. But the idea of getting all that published and into the open would also open up enquiries why the coppers never pursued it all. Public outrage was a powerful weapon.

So at least they had that going for them. Maybe reporters were more useful than he’d thought.

And so, yesterday, they met up to discuss their next step. Or better said, Zayne’s next step.

~

Jay and Dennis were adamant about meeting in public, but Zayne refused, saying they could be overheard and that he wasn’t sure he wasn’t tailed.

So they had to resort to the same old and they met up at Jay’s.

Dennis immediately stood and stepped in front of Jay when Zayne walked in, but Zayne wasn’t interested in playing today.

“Relax, mate, I’m not doing anything.”

“You’ll forgive me for not trusting you.”

Zayne rolled his eyes. Then, all of a sudden he snapped forward, fist raised, but stopped right in front of the two men who both violently recoiled.

His face lit up with a grin. Baring his teeth was more than enough. Just to keep them on their toes. Not to show who’s boss, would be a miserable attempt with these two pulling the rug out from under him yesterday. He knew when he was beaten. Still, that wasn’t gonna spoil his fun.

With a dark chuckle he drew back and sat down at a distance, keeping his eyes on Dennis, leering at him with a twisted smile. “Not sure what you were planning in the event of, but whatever makes you feel like the big guy.”

Dennis bristled and took a step forward, but Jay, still sitting on the couch, pulled at his sleeve and silently urged him to sit back down again.

He hadn’t really planned on antagonising them, but with Dennis radiating his rage, he almost took it as a challenge and just couldn’t resist. Besides, they started it with this goddamn idiotic plan.

Okay. Now, focus. Play nice.

“What’s the plan?” he asked.

The two exchanged a glance. “We need something conclusive to make sure the police cannot ignore all the evidence. That’s where you come in,” Jay said.

“So what am I supposed to do here?”

“I don’t know. You are close to him. Figure something out.”

“Don’t.” Zayne snapped. “Don’t do that. Don’t be like him.”

Both Jay and Dennis looked at him, browse raised in surprise and soft confusion, prompting Zayne to continue, which he did with a frustrated sigh.

“He always did that. Or still does. Demand something impossible and when I’d ask or protest he’d just be like ‘figure it out, Zayne’, with that goddamn dismissive wave of his. Complete arse.”

Dennis leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “Okay, how would you go about this? Just, first idea that pops into your head.”

“He has a security system. Everything in his office is recorded,” Zayne said, slowly, still thinking it through. A camera system for his guards to keep an eye on things could go both ways. “I could steal it. Check how far back it goes and get some of our conversations. He laid some pretty dark stuff on me when he threatened me.”

Dennis hummed in thought. “I doubt he’d leave something incriminating around for that long. And it would leave you in there for a long time, which is less than ideal. If you want something recorded, try your phone. No need to break in.”

Zayne gave a little side nod. Admittedly, yes, that would be much simpler. There was no way to talk himself out of breaking into the guards’ office. If he could just visit like usual, but with his phone recording in his pocket…

“That could work.”

“Does he search you?” Jay asked.

“No, but there are always two guards keeping an eye on me.” Without them, he’d have plunged a knife into Emery’s heart long ago. Still, they never touched him. Just made sure he wouldn’t attack Emery.

“Oh.” Jay thought back to his own visit, surprised. “I never saw any.”

“That’s because you aren’t a threat.”

“I was at the time,” Jay fired back.

Well, he still was, Zayne had to admit, just no physical threat to warrant two buff guys keeping an eye on him at all time. If only they had, though—ah. No, that was his job, wasn’t it. He should’ve kept an eye on Jay at all times. And he mucked around for too long, trying to see if he could break him but all the while it just strengthened his resolve and that bloody stubborn streak.

“Then all the more reason not to deviate from your usual visits,” Dennis said. “Don’t tell him about the police already being involved. See how he reacts to the news of us looking into him.”

“Yeah, he won’t like that. Might let some things slip.”

As he pushed himself off from the little ottoman he was perching on, the two on the couch tensed up again and kept their eyes on him, but he just walked back to the hallway with a soft scoff.

“Okay,” he said, looking back. “But when I get this, we’re done. No testifying or anything. I’m not even sure I’m sticking around for that.”

~

Zayne blew out his nerves in a long exhale as he stopped in front of Emery’s office. Then, as the guards appeared to escort him in, the mask went back on; back to his gruff and stoic persona. The two guards, as usual, opened the doors and followed him in.

Stick to the usual, Dennis’ words echoed. But Zayne was already deviating from the usual, and it hadn’t escaped the man.

“It’s rare for you to come here of your own volition, Zayne,” Emery said, looking over his folded hands.

Full attention from the moment he stepped into the office, Zayne noticed. Usually he'd barely receive a glance in his direction.

Meaning he was already suspicious. Great.

But he couldn’t back down now.

"Yes, sir. There’s...been some trouble."

“With your reporter?” Emery hummed a soft tone of impatience. Where he would usually swivel his chair away from Zayne, annoyed at his presence, his eyes were now fixed on him.

Zayne resisted the urge to gulp his worries away. “Yes, they—“

“They?”

“Jay and his colleague. Ever since your… visit, sir, they’re determined to link you to all the acts of sabotage and—“

“Put a stop to it.”

“I tried. Really. But Jay is too stubborn, even after two visits to hospital.” He hesitated, but he had to up the ante here. He was here for a reason after all. He licked his lips, and said: “I know I stopped you from killing him last time, but...well, he’s getting awfully close…”

“Like I said, stop him.”

Not enough...

“By all means necessary?” Zayne tried to confirm.

Emery studied him in silence for longer Zayne cared for and he willed himself to keep eye contact.

Then he abruptly pushed away from his desk and stood. “Yes,” he said. “Kill him if you have to. The time for threats has passed.”

Zayne kept a poker face and just nodded.

“Why the change of heart?”

“He already fucked everything up before,” Zayne shrugged. “I’m not going to let him do it again.”

“Then you know what to do.”

“Right.” That signalled the end of the conversation and Zayne was wise enough not to press any further. They’d just have to hope this would do.

He turned to leave, not seeing how behind him Emery lightly shook his head at the two guards, who didn’t move an inch from the doors.

“Zayne.”

He froze, the cold voice combined with the two men who glared at him and made no intention to move told him all he needed to know; this was bad.

“There wasn’t something else you wanted to tell me?” Emery slowly walked from behind his desk and crossed the room, now giving a curt nod to his guards.

One calmly stepped forward, forcefully spun Zayne around and grabbed him by the arms.

Zayne held his breath, knowing better than to resist. He stifled a gasp as he turned and Emery now stood right in front of him. “No, sir,” he almost whispered.

Did he know?!

“Nothing else you wanted to ask? I have to say, with your usual silent streak, one would almost think you have ambitions to become an investigative reporter yourself now.”

“No… sir.”

Emery nodded to the other guard, who immediately reached up and started patting over Zayne’s pockets.

Zayne just pressed his eyes closed for a second and accepted the body search without a fight. He kept his calm, kept his expression straight and forced himself to look at Emery, but on the inside, his chest tightened and his heart pounded against his ribs. A costly miscalculation. He’d been too eager to get this over with quickly and had hoped he could pull this off. He should have; where did he go wrong? This visit hadn’t been much longer or stranger than usual. What had Emery seen?! Was it just because he came of his own free will?

Emery held out a hand and accepted Zayne’s phone. He tutted in disappointment as he saw the little timer still counting up as it continued recording their conversation. “I wasn’t sure, but as you can see… if can never hurt to check,” he said, shaking his head. He pressed the button and deleted the file immediately before he handed the phone to the guard.

Then a harsh slap rang out. It forced Zayne’s head to the side, but Zayne didn’t face front again, feeling more comfortable keeping his eyes on the carpet instead of looking up to see the fire in Emery’s eyes. So he’d acted on just a hunch… fuck!

He just glanced up as the man turned his back to him again and dismissed them with a flick of his hand.

“Such a shame.”

-

“What’s taking him so long!” Jay snapped, pacing about the living room.

“Relax,” Dennis’ voice soothed from the phone on speaker on the kitchen table. “Can’t expect him to rush this.”

Jay sprang up when he heard the key turning the lock to the front door.

“Finally!” he shouted in the direction of the hallway, masking the relief in his voice with frustration. “Jeez, what took yo—“

He froze in his steps.

It wasn’t Zayne who had just entered his flat.

Two tall men, both clad in black, stood in his hallway. The man in the back raised a gun and Jay backed away, hands raised in front of him.

Fear shot through him as he stumbled back; churned his stomach, caught his voice.

How…?! His eyes drew to something dangling from the first man’s hand, the one who’d opened the door and he noticed the keychain of a little silver motorcycle helmet softly swinging back and forth. Zayne’s key, the one he’d nabbed, Zayne’s keychain.

“No…”

What happened? What the fuck happened?! Had Zayne betrayed them? Had he been caught in the lie? Did they take that key from him and what, was he lying dead in a ditch somewhere already?

The gun cocked and was raised to eye level.

Was he going to join him soon?!

“No… no, please! What do you—who are you?!”

“Keep your mouth shut,” the man with the gun growled and the other advanced on Jay, grabbing him by the arm.

“Step outside and don’t try anything.” His grip on Jay’s arm was like iron and he pulled him out the door.

Jay had no choice but to obey and follow. The man with the gun closed the ranks behind him, nudged the gun into his back and they guided him down the stairs and out the back.

As he stumbled along, almost hyperventilating with fear, the same thought just flashed through his mind. This is it. This was it. They fucked up. He should’ve fucking listened to Zayne!

He was scared out of his mind. Sure that he was going to get shot in the alley, but then he noticed the black car. It was parked in reverse and barely fit in the narrow alley, making sure it both blocked his escape and any way for passer-by’s to see what was going on.

The guy in front opened the boot and gestured to Jay with impatience.

“In.”

-

Continued here

Tag list: @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @burtlederp @castielamigos-whump-side-blog @hurtmebeautifully @rougenoirofthepurpleterror @snuffhimout @susiequaz12 @coldresolve @whump-me-all-night-long @whumpinggoodtime @starnight-whump @rippedjeansandfadeddreams @im-just-here-for-the-whump @restrainthenmaime @freefallingup13 @whatwasmyprevioususername @myfriendcallsmeasickwoman19 @firewheeesky @redstainedsocks @myst-in-the-mirror @whumpawink @break-so-beautifully @approach-me-and-ill-cry @painsandconfusion @whots-a-tag-precious @wormwriting

[call-sign-shark]

Brummie!! I've been so late I'm so sorry. I had to deal with a lot and I didn't want to only skim and quickly comment on the longest stories of my friends because they deserve a proper analysis of their works. In truth, I was so excited about this new story of yours that waiting was torture. My apologies if this comment is a succession of quotes live-commented by me but ... FUCK IM ALREADY OBSESSED.

Wow Reader's mom is really... Harsh with her? I must say that the way you chose to open the story with showing the difficult relationship between YN and her mother is such an interesting introduction to this new story. I particularly love the detail "Her normal vocabulary filled with a plethora of her favourite profanities not once leaving her lips", contrasting her kind of "brutal" behavior with what she wants to show to other people. Also, the bratty and unruly nature you gave to Y/N is INCREDIBLE. Not only it is a stark contrast with the protagonist of Killing Me Softy, hence showing it's a whole different story with a whole different mood, but it already got me hooked. This one is gonna create trouble teehee, as she has proved to us in the church scene. Honestly, I cackled at the whole passage when her mother dragged her by the arms after she taunted the priest, while Arthur and Tommy were laughing LMAO.

Another aspect of this new work I loved to death was the adorable and fun banter you created between young Arthur and Tommy. This is so endearing to see them like this, Tommy embarrassed because "Y/N is not my girlfriend" and Polly trying to keep them in line... It definitely warmed my heart. On a similar topic, the sweet and hilarious relationship between young Tommy and Y/N is made me melt. I love how she is quick-witted. That excerpt "Think your Aunt needs to shorten those" you laughed as you nodded to the ends of his trousers bunched up around his boots." got me laughing so much. It's so unusual to imagine that innocent and young Tommy, so full of happiness and emotions... I adore this image of him, with his trousers too large for him because they are Arthur's. 🥹 the lanky git, I died. And now... I know this is a Tommy x Reader work but COME ON ARTHUR YOU ADORABLE STUPID THING. Stealing the candelabras thinking it was gold only to find out it's just copper??? This is so Arthur-coded I swear. My sweet idiot.

When I thought it couldn't be funnier and cuter, you added a little John poking his bro's knee with a stick?? Oh my heart can't handle it. You describe sibling relationships so well it makes me wonder if you have siblings too... Despite this adorable cameo, I feel like the plan of this trio is going to fail miserably. I can't help being scared for them tbh. 🤣 But despite the banter and the stupid idea of stealing something, I adored the small mention of Tommy and Y/N melting for each other, like Tom never getting tired of the way her features change when she laughs.

Now the thievery... "Your eyes at him knowing anything the eldest Shelby said was not to be trusted and far from the actual truth." I'M CHOKING, this is so true. Teen Arthur 'trust me it's safe' Shelby Jr. 🤣 He's so stupid I swear, he is, it's not even the good map. 🤦🏼‍♀️ And sweet talking Y/N by referring to Tommy's birthday... Run YN, Run, it isn't a smart idea lmao! Also... I KNEW THE DOG WOULD BARK. Now we know why Tommy ended up being the boss of the Peaky Blinders "Fucking traitor! After all the food I gave you" Arthur shouted as you all ran down the hall, making your way up to the second level." OMGGG I CAN'T BREATHE ANYMORE. HE GAVE THE DOG SPROUTS. 🤣🤣

On a quieter note, Tommy and YN pressed together while they hide is such a sweet idea. Your drawing is immaculate, honey, a real treasure. I'm impressed at the way you manage to build the tension between them. I was rooting for Tommy so bad, waiting for him to find the courage to make the first move so... The unexpected kiss made me literally squeal in front of my computer!! Things got heated in there teehee but at the same time, it still remains super lovely. Two young lovers discovering love together -- I'm tearing. Oh, and it's impossible not to mention this line "Oh and you're not? You really think I believed that ridiculous story you told us all last summer about how you gave Irene five orgasms in ten minutes" TOMMY. 🤣 "Hey! Nobody gets to call her a whore but us" Thanks Arthur I guess? LMAO. So protective, it's adorable. Your portrayal of teen Arthur is making me SWOON. It feels so in-character, so canon, I can't.

Back to our two young lovebirds... The whole bed scene with each other pressed against each other, the gift she gives him after hours of work, the little promise... Brummie, it was such a beautiful and heartwarming moment. In fact, you're once again showing your sadism to us since most of this chapter was lighthearted and, then, you brutally shove us ten years later with a cold Tommy. Clever move, but very mean too -- I love it. The stark difference between this scene and Y/N crying as she watches Tommy and Grace pressed together... Aouch my little heart.

Also, the parallel with the birthday wishes!! The line "But yet you still held on, hopelessly devoted to the man who promised to hold you in his arms every night" refers to the title... Brummie!! Can't you stop being such a talented writer? Honestly, this is an AMAZING first chapter for your new series. I'm already hooked and I need chapter 2, please!!! 🖤🖤🖤🖤

MASTERLIST

Hopelessly Devoted (PART ONE)

Summary: A flashback to when you and Tommy were young, carefree and smitten with one another plays out in your head as you sit alone in the Garrison, watching him now in the arms of another woman whilst you desperately hold onto the love you still have for him. Does Tommy share the same sentiments or has his bitterness towards you stained the love he claims he no long has for you?

Warnings: Language, angst, fluff, mutual pining

Authors note: Inspired by the song "Hopelessly Devoted" by Olivia Newton-John. RIP sweet angel.

"We're bloody late again!" your mother muttered under her breath as she hurried up the church steps holding onto her hat from the bitter January wind whilst you are your little brother George, lovingly known as Georgie walked behind her. "Ten minutes until we leave I said" she huffed turning around, scowling at you as you rolled your eyes in response. "Ten minutes! In the time it took for you to put your dress on I had swept the porch and gotten your brother ready. Why did you give me such an unruly child?" she said looking up to the heavens expecting some sort of response. "Out all hours gallivanting about with those Shelby boys, never listening to a word I say. I'm being punished aren't I, for the sins of her father...the bloody fool he was, drinking himself to an early grave, leaving me here to fend for myself with two kids..." she carried on as you held your little brothers hand, a small sigh leaving his mouth as he looked up at you, shaking his head at your mother's relentless rambling. " Y/N let me look at you. Bloody hell child, you look a state!" she frowned as she turned to face you at the top of the steps.

"Can you just stop" you said trying to move her hands away as she pushed your hair back behind your ears, pinching your cheeks to give them a rosy glow. "Look at your dress..." she huffed as she straightened the bottom out, pulling at the frilly pink fabric whilst your little brother reached up to open the church door. "Stay still!" she said as you started fidgeting away from her hands, her overbearing mothering making you feel like you was eight years old again.

" For god's sake I'm not a kid!" you replied rather loudly when the doors fully opened and everyone in their seats turned around to look at the commotion. "Shit" you mumbled under your breath as you looked to the sea of eyes now staring back at you, the loud bang of the church door slamming against the brick wall startling you as your little brother giggled in amusement.

" Bloody Walk Y/N" your mother said through gritted teeth behind you as she took her and George's hat off. Smiling graciously left to right at the people seated along the outer rows your mother politely mouthed small hellos and good mornings as all three of you made your way down the aisle, her normal vocabulary filled with a plethora of her favourite profanities not once leaving her lips. Turning your head you quickly spotted Tommy sitting next to his family with a huge grin on his face, loving every second of the embarrassment he knew you was enduring. As the sound of your heels on the stone floor echoed loudly through the church, your entrance now the focus point of everyone's attention, you finally reached the alter with the Reverend stood beside it. You could almost feel the laughter Tommy and Arthur were holding back as your mother pushed you forward to bow. With a grunt leaving your throat you lowered your head, a small mischievous glint in your eye at the sudden, yet stupid idea to prove to your mother how unruly of a child you really was.

" Forgive me father for I have sinned, it has been mere hours since I last pissed my mother off..." You said dramatically as your mother's eyes widened in embarrassment a gasp leaving her mouth as she grabbed you by the arm and span you back around, all while apologising profusely to the Priest now shaking his head at her. Oh the shame, the humiliation, she would never live this down. The gossip she would have to endure for months in the women's wash house was a fair consolation for her making you wear this god awful dress you proudly thought to yourself as you walked to find a seat. Sighing the Reverend lowered his eye as he turned the page of his sermon, longing to be appointed somewhere, anywhere out of Small Heath. No number of hail Mary's could save this sinful town. As you walked down the aisle the sudden sound of Tommy and Arthur laughing had you biting your inner cheek holding back your own amusement as you watched Polly snap her head in their direction.

" Shut up" Polly whispered as she reached over hitting each of them in the chest. "Bloody kids" she mouthed sympathetically to your mother as you all walked by.

" Girlfriend finally made it" Arthur whispered in Tommy's ear, knowing full well how smitten he was with you.

" Shes not my girlfriend, shut it" he muttered under his breath as you sent him a small wave which he quickly returned.

" Hi ya" Arthur laughed mocking him.

" Fuck off Arthur" Tommy replied as he elbowed him in the ribs leaving him wincing in pain.

" I'll let you have that one baby brother" he laughed rubbing his side.

" No fucking swearing in church!" Polly said quietly through gritted teeth as she hit the back of Tommy's head. It was always an eventful service when the Shelby's attended, which made you wonder what they had done to have their Aunt force them this time.

Walking out into the fresh air, free from the stuffy confines of the church you pushed back your hair behind your shoulders folding your arms as you faced the sun. Closing your eyes you sighed as the rays of light beamed onto your skin. With summer still a long way off you was enjoying the rare event in which the sun broke through the smoke filled skies of Small Heath. That was until you felt the warmth disappear and a large shadow take it's place. Opening your eyes you was met with Tommy Shelby standing right in front of you, a cigarette precariously hanging on the corner of his mouth, grinning from ear to ear.

" Get out the way you're blocking the sun" you said as you pushed him to the side closing your eyes again.

" Hmm, you are looking rather pasty"

" Thanks Thomas, you really know how to compliment a lady" you said taking the cigarette out his mouth as you walked over to sit on the brick wall just outside the church.

"Lady?" Tommy laughed as he sent you a cheeky smile." Nice dress by the way. You look like a flower girl"

" Shut up" you said playfully hitting his arm in response, hating everything about the overly embroidered puffy dress you were begrudgingly wearing. " Have you seen yourself?" you smirked looking down at his outfit "Think your Aunt needs to shorten those" you laughed as you nodded to the ends of his trousers bunched up around his boots.

" They're Arthur's hand-me-downs, the lanky git" he said kicking a stone on the ground that you both watched roll into the road.

" So what did you do this time to end up here on a Sunday morning?" You asked as you turned your head to face him.

" Aunt Pol found out Arthur stole one of the candelabras from the Reverends study. Convinced himself it was solid gold, you should have seen his face when we melted it down in Charlie's yard and it was copper" Tommy laughed as he looked back at you. " Polly was furious said he had sinned enough for the whole house and we were all damned to hell if we didn't come today" he explained further as his eyes lingered on your face, watching the way your nose scrunched up as you laughed, a sight he never got tired of. " So you coming later?" he asked leaning into you as he took his cigarette now stained with pink lipstick back from between your fingers, not that he minded.

" No absolutely not. Do you not remember the last time we followed one of Arthur's genius ideas?" you answered folding your arms having already made your mind up.

" He's got a map this time. Come on it will be fun" he said nudging his arm against yours.

" A map to what?"

" To where this rich fuck has all his liquor stored"

"Can I come?" John said running up to you both after overhearing the conversation, poking his brothers knee with a stick in attempt to get his attention which Tommy quickly put a stop to by giving him a kick in the shin.

" No, fuck off " Tommy said pushing him away from in front of him as John stormed off crying in search of his Aunt. " So how about it? "

" Fine, but only because it's your birthday tomorrow" you said giving in as you both smiled to eachother. "But this better be fool proof. I can't risk getting in trouble with my mum again, she's a few breaths away from kicking me out"

" That's alright, you can come live with me" he said winking to you as you looked up at him through your lashes, blushing a darker shade of pink than your dress." We'll come by to get you at eleven, don't be late ok? "

" I'm never late" you responded as Tommy rolled his eyes flicking his cigarette onto the ground. If there was one thing he had learnt over the years it was that you was always late.

" Thomas Michael Shelby! " Polly shouted as she stormed over to you both, dragging John with her by the arm.

"Shit. Right I'm off" Tommy said quickly pecking your cheek as he jumped over the wall running away from his Aunt. Bringing your hand up to your face you pressed your fingers to your skin, a smile dancing on your lips as you turned around to watch Tommy run into the back alleys of Small Heath, fleeing from the fury coming his way. Thomas Michael Shelby your best friend, your partner in crime and also the boy you had been head over heels for as long as you could remember. What a sorry story your limited love life had already been, endlessly pining for a boy you had convinced yourself only saw you as a friend, desperately hoping he felt the same.

It was just after noon when you Tommy and Arthur made your way over the wooden fencing onto the large mansions land. Having never once left the city limits in all of your eighteen years of life you was taken aback by the sheer size of the house in front of you. Surrounded by luscious green grass, rows of trees adorning its drive way, you was sure it was something only seen in films, a far cry from the mud and dirt of Small Heath.

" Give me the map" Tommy said as Arthur handed it to him whilst he looked over the brick wall separating you and the owner who was outside sitting in a garden chair.

"Arthur he has a dog. A mean looking thing" you said as Tommy stood beside you squinting at the map in his hand.

"Yeh well, he would have still been out with that dog hunting, but you were late" Tommy interjected with a smile on his face, having been right about your constant tardiness.

"Don't get your knickers in a twist Y/N, I've been coming here every day for the past week feeding him leftovers, he likes me. He won't make a peep " Arthur said trying to reassure you as you rolled your eyes at him knowing anything the eldest Shelby said was not to be trusted and far from the actual truth.

" Jesus Christ Arthur" Tommy said throwing the map at his brothers chest. " This is a fucking map for a house in London!"

" Ay?" Arthur said as he straightened it out in front of him. " Where's it say that? " he asked as Tommy snatched it back from him pointing at the words "London" written right underneath the name of the house.

" Well how was I supposed to bloody know. They should have put it at the very top"

" It's in fucking capitals Arthur, how can you not..."

" Right I'm going home" you said as the two brothers continued to argue. As always Arthur's ideas were never properly thought out, often getting you in trouble more than anything else.

" Wait Y/N no, come on stay" Tommy said as he looked back to his older brother widening his eyes in gesture to help him convince you not to leave.

" Y/N " Arthur said as he put his arm around your shoulder. " We're at the back entrance. He probably keeps it down in the basement, it won't be far. You're the only one small enough to shimmy through the window to open the lock on the other side. Come on, dont let us down, it's Tom's birthday tomorrow. "

" Fine. But if I put another ladder in my stockings you're paying for a new pair" you said pointing to him as Arthur placed a wooden crate below the window for you to stand on.

"Atta girl" Arthur said as he turned his head around winking to Tommy as you climbed through the window, quickly making in through to the other side. Pushing past his brother, Tommy went to open the door when the dog Arthur promised wouldn't bark suddenly started to do exactly that.

" Hey! Who's there?" the owner said as you all ran into the house. " Get 'em boy" he shouted as his dog came charging round the corner into the building.

" Fucking traitor! After all the food I gave you" Arthur shouted as you all ran down the hall, making your way up to the second level.

" What did you feed him with?" you asked breathlessly as you ran beside them, Tommy's hand resting on your back making sure you didn't get left behind.

"Sprouts"

"Sprouts!" You and Tommy both shouted looking back at him.

" It's all we had"

" No wonder he bloody hates you" Tommy said as all three of you came to a stop behind a wall waiting for a maid to walk by.

" Sniff them out" the owner said as you heard the sound of the dogs nails clicking on the wooden floorboards, getting closer by the second.

" Shiiit, run! Hide! Arthur giggled as you legged it down one of the second floor corridors, Tommy quickly pulling you into a small storage room to the side as Arthur continued to run down the hall. Breathless, you both looked up at eachother as a fit of laughs left your lips. Bringing his finger up to his mouth Tommy gestured for you to be quiet as the sound of the owner walking along the corridor quickly brought your giggles to a stop. Taking in your surroundings you suddenly realised how close you were to eachother. Cardboard boxes were stacked as high as the ceiling all around you, there was barely enough space for one person let alone two.

" Is he gone?" you whispered to which Tommy nodded, his eyes looking over you as he too started to realise how close you were to one another." You're taking all the space" you said trying to free yourself from the uncomfortable position you was in.

" Y/N my backs pushed up against the door. I don't have any more room to move" he said as you huffed in response moving your arm that was stuck between you to the side. Silence fell upon the small room as you continued to fidget in place whilst Tommy cleared his throat, his eyes darting between you and the surrounding boxes.

" What? Why do you keep looking at me like that" you said with a thrown on your face.

" I'm not looking at you like anything" Tommy replied as he quickly glanced away. With your focus now elsewhere, Tommy's eyes drifted down to both of your bodies pressed up against eachother, biting his inner cheek in attempt to rid himself of all the thoughts going through his mind. Taking in every delicate feature of your face, Tommy felt his heart quicken as he continued to stare down at you. God you were beautiful, he had been wanting to tell you those very words for years, wanted to ask you out, tell you how he felt. But unlike his old brother who seemed to have endless amounts of confidence when it came to girls, Tommy never found the courage to make a move. Instead he begrudgingly tormented himself, watching all the boys of Small Heath try their luck with you.

" You're doing it again, stop it!" you said squinting your eyes as you looked up to see him still staring down at you. " You're making me nervous"

" What else am I supposed to look at, you're right in front of me " he said with a small sigh. Just ask her you idiot, he thought to himself as he peered at you in the corner of his eye.

" Y/N erm, I was wondering..." he started to say when you grabbed his hand your eyes widening in a panic.

" Shh. Did you hear that?" You said as you looked behind him to the door.

" Its just a window blowing open" he replied as he glanced down at your hand still holding onto his. Throwing his head back Tommy shook his head, frustrated that the moment he had finally found the courage to ask you out you had cut him off. Bringing his eyes back down to look at you, Tommy took a deep breath. If he couldn't say how he felt he would show it. What was the worse that could happen?

" Fuck it" he said as he cupped your cheeks crashing his lips onto yours. For a brief moment you resisted taken by surprise at Tommy's unexpected move until your whole body finally relaxed and you quickly melted into the kiss. There was no technique to it, wet, messy, all tongues and teeth. But as your lips interlocked you felt a flutter of butterflies fill your stomach, your hands finding their way to his shoulders as Tommy enthusiastically pushed you back the few centimeters remaining between you and the wall behind you.

" Owh" you said as your head hit the wall, the thump loud enough for anyone to hear.

" Shit, sorry" Tommy said as a small giggle escaped your mouth at his overly keen display. Pressing your lips back onto his the kiss was smoother, a small whimper leaving your throat as his tongue brushed over yours. Moaning, Tommy's hand dropped from your waist to your leg as his fingers travelled under you skirt grazing over your suspenders. Things were getting heated, very heated.

" Wait, Tommy I've, i'm a.."

" Fuck sorry, I wasn't trying to" Tommy awkwardly said cutting you and himself off. " Wait, you're a Virgin?" he asked with a small smile etched on the corner of his lips his brows slightly raised.

" Why do you look so surprised? " you answered back, your whole face scrunched up in annoyance.

" No nothing. It's just I didn't think you was...you know" he replied unable to formulate his own words.

" Oh and you're not? You really think I believed that ridiculous story you told us all last summer about how you gave Irene five orgasms in ten minutes" you scoffed with a laugh as Tommy's cheeks suddenly went a crimson shade of red, his hands dropping from your waist.

" Jesus...thanks Y/N" Tommy said looking away with a huff unable to physically move away from the embarrassment surrounding him.

" Slightly exaggerated don't you think? " you giggled as Tommy looked back at you, his hands now on his hips.

" You done?" he huffed as you bit your bottom lip trying to hold back the laugh that was seconds away from escaping. As Tommy pressed his lips back onto yours the small giggle unable to contain itself finally broke free.

" Stop it, I'm trying to concentrate" he said smiling into your lips as he continued to kiss you, his hands roaming over the curves of your body when the door suddenly flew open.

" Oi oi, what's going on in here then? " Arthur said grinning at you both as you let go of eachother. Rolling your eyes you walked out the small room pushing past him the box of whisky and leg of ham he was holding. "Get to second base baby brother?" Arthur sniggered as Tommy thumped him in the arm.

" Fuck off Arthur" Tommy pouted leaving the room and his older brother in fits of laughter. Both barely out the door, your eyes widened as the owner and his dog turned the corner.

" You little bastards. I've seen your faces. I know who you are! You're those trouble making Shelby boys. And look, you've brought your little whore with you, that dead drunk idiot's daughter. How did you petty little thieves make it out of Small Heath, steal a car?"

" Hey! Nobody gets to call her a whore but us" Arthur warned the owner pointing his finger at him as Tommy protectively pushed you behind him. Now in a stand-off between the owner and his drooling dog growling at you, you watched as he unclasped the large metal chain from the dogs collar.

" Go on boy get 'em!" he commanded when Tommy grabbed the leg of ham out the crate in Arthur's arms, launching it in the dog's direction.

" My bloody ham!" Arthur said, furious his dinner had been tossed to the the very dog he felt had betrayed him.

" Run!" Tommy shouted as you all turned around.

" I'm calling the police!"

" Thanks for the whisky old man" Arthur laughed running down the stairs as you and Tommy followed behind him, mentally noting never to follow one of Arthur's ideas again.

Several hours had passed and you Tommy, Arthur and a girl he had picked up along the way were sitting around a campfire in the local woods where Arthur and Tommy's families two vardos were, sipping on the finest whisky you had ever tasted. You couldn't remember the amount of times they had brought you out here to camp, taking you away for a brief moment from the smoke filled air, from the memories of your father that hung over you thicker than any fogged filled skies, a grief you wouldn't have made it through without them. As you sat looking at the flames of the fire mesmerised by their orange glow Tommy glanced over to you, watching the flickering lights from the campfire cast a golden hue on your skin, desperate to be alone with you again, the kiss you shared earlier repeatedly playing out in his head.

" Come on love, let's leave them to it" Arthur said standing up taking his dates hand after noticing his brother staring at you. " See you in the morning" Arthur winked back to Tommy opening the small caravan door, squeezing the girls bum as they both entered. " If the caravan be rocking, don't come a knocking!" Arthur laughed as he shut the door leaving you alone with Tommy.

" Dickhead" Tommy mumbled under his breath as you looked away, biting your bottom lip at how awkward Arthur had suddenly made everything. "It's getting late" you said standing up as you brushed the mud and twigs off your skirt looking back at the other vardo.

" I'll sleep out here" Tommy said as he sat up throwing another log onto the fire.

" You can't sleep out here, you'll freeze to death. Come on, it's not like we've never slept in the same bed" you said only just realising how different this time would be.

" Right, yeh...ok" Tommy said clearing his throat as he stood up.

As you settled into the small bed you watched as Tommy took of his hat and coat, your heart rapidly beating as nerves started to mount in your stomach. Climbing under the covers Tommy turned to face you, his fingers coming up to brush the strands of hair away from your face. Leaning into eachother, both of you turned your head in the same direction, awkwardly banging your foreheads together, resulting in a fit of laughs leaving your lips as Tommy shook his head at you. It was quite possible you were the giggliest girl he had ever met. Relaxing you recomposed yourself as Tommy pressed his lips to yours in a tender embrace. As his hand moved to your lower back, pressing your body closer to his your breath hitched in you throat, nerves now consuming every movement you made. Pulling away Tommy rubbed his thumb over your hip, in an effort to help you relax.

" Let's just lay here together, yeh?" he said taking the pressure away from you, not wanting to rush you into anything you wasn't ready for you as you nodded your head, thankful for his understanding nature. Rolling onto his back Tommy brought you closer into his side as he stroked up and down your arm, happy to finally have you in his arms.

" I nearly forgot" you said as you sat up leaning across him to pick up your coat.

" Happy Birthday" you said pulling out a small gift wrapped in cloth.

" My birthdays not until tomorrow " he chuckled as he sat up.

" It will be in ten minutes" you said as you looked down at your watch, quickly returning your eyes to him pulling out a gold pocket watch from within the delicate fabric.

" Jesus Y/N...you got this for me, how? " he said with a huge grin on his face as he looked to you.

" All those hours pressing clothes. Took me almost a year to be able to afford it"

"Come here" he said bringing you into a hug as you settled back down into the bed together." Thank you" he added as he pressed a kiss to your forehead feeling happier than any win he had ever won at the races.

With his arm securely wrapped around you Tommy couldn't stop the smile on his face as he looked down at the watch in his hand, it was nicest thing he owned and the nicest thing anyone had ever done for him. Glancing at your wristwatch, Tommy turned the dials to the right time, when you took it from him turning it back a further five minutes.

" It's five minutes too late" he said watching you press the knob down.

" That way I'll always be on time for you" you giggled handing it back as Tommy chuckled shaking his head.

" Yeh just means I won't be on time for anything" he smiled closing the watch, keeping it tightly clasped in his hand as you nuzzled your head into his chest.

" Tommy?"

" Mm-hm?" he said as his eyes were about to close.

" What do you think we'll be doing this time ten years from now"

" The same thing" he smiled as his thumb rubbed over the curve of your shoulder. "Only naked" he said as he opened one eye looking to you.

" Tommy!" You said, giving him a small punch to the arm. " I'm serious, what do you think we'll be doing?"

" The same thing Y/N" he said with certainty as he tuned his head to face you. " You'll be in my arms every night from now on, that's a promise" he said as he looked lovingly back at you before giving you one last peck to the lips as you both closed your eyes, dreaming of the future and everything coming your way. Even though you were both young with your whole lives ahead of you one thing was for certain, in that moment you had no doubts that you wouldn't spend the rest of your lives together and every night in each others arms.

Ten years later...

Laughs and chatter of people enjoying eachothers company hummed around you as you sat quietly in the corner of the Garrison, the drink in your hand untouched as the night you and Tommy spent together this time ten years ago asleep in each others arms cruelly played out in your head. As a tear fell from your eye you looked up across the room to see the new barmaid sat tightly against Tommy's body, his arm resting around her shoulders. Tonight it wouldn't be you wrapped in his arms, tonight you would sleep alone as regret over decisions you had made weighed down your already broken heart. Standing up from your seat Tommy's eyes quickly darted to you, watching you pull your coat around you as you brushed the tears from your face, leaving the Garrison in a hurry unable to withstand anymore.

Clutching your coat around you from the cold night air you pushed the last tears from your cheeks as the pain in your heart dug further into your chest.

" Y/N" you heard your name being called by the very man you didn't want to see you like this.

"Yes Tommy" you said turning around as he waited at the Garrison door.

" I need you to go finish those papers at the betting shop for tomorrow" he said lighting a cigarette as he stepped a little closer.

" It's nearly midnight..." you replied as you watched him pull out his pocket watch to check the time. Quickly closing it Tommy clutched it tightly in his hand as he looked back at you. For a brief moment that's all he did as if the memories of that night had suddenly come flooding back to him. Maybe they had never left, and Tommy's heart was aching as much of yours, either way you could never tell, for just as quickly as his face softened for those brief few moments his demeanor abruptly changed, a scowl not spread across his face.

" The deadlines tomorrow " he said sharply looking to you as you shivered in the cold, your eyes red from crying.

" Ok Tommy" you said like you always did, at his beck and call night and day, desperately hanging onto the love you still felt for him. Without saying another word you turned on your heel heading for Watery Lane.

" You not going to wish me a happy birthday then?" Tommy called out as he watched you walk away.

" Happy birthday Tommy" you replied, the words catching in your throat, tears streaming down your face as you walked briskly off into the night. So much had changed over the years, so many promises broken, hearts broken along with them. But yet you still held on, hopelessly devoted to the man who promised to hold you in his arms every night.

(Part Two coming soon!)

Tag list: @cosniffee @jonsncws @powellssaturn @jessimay89 @bruher @riseandreigns4u @mariaelizabeth21-blog1

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Nowhere | Rafe Cameron x reader

Requested by MEEEEEE lol / Summary: Rafe has nowhere else to go after Ward kicks him out of the house and he finds himself on the doorstep of your house. What will the rest of the pogues think of your new roommate?  

A/N: do i have like 20 requests on my list right now? Yes. Am I working on one that I thought of instead? Yes and i’m sorry but I hope you guys like it! xx

Tag list is at the end. Let me know if you want to be added xx

**MASTERLIST**

Requests: {OPEN} CLOSED

** Rules for Requesting **

** Who I Write For **

********************************************************************************************NOT MY GIF, CREDIT TO OWNERS

It was way passed one o clock in the morning when you woke up to someone knocking on the door. “no... shut up..” You groan, turning over and pulling your pillow over your ear to block out the knocking. 

Part of you should have probably been worried to be woken from your slumber to someone knocking, but you lived on the cut and lived in the marsh where you didn’t have anything worth stealing. You should have also been worried about being home alone, but your father worked an oil rig off shore and he wasn’t home months at a time, so you were use to being home alone. 

The person continued to knock and you muttered some curse words before finally tossing the blankets off you and heading toward your front door, “I’m coming! Jesus..” You had to rub the sleep out of your eyes to make sure you weren’t dreaming and to make sure your mind playing tricks on you because this had to be a dream. Rafe Cameron is standing at your door. 

“I had no where else to go.” He croaks as he lets his shoulders fall, “He kicked me out.” 

You and Rafe weren’t for the usual pogue vs kook thing like everyone else on the island was. You’d even go far enough to call yourself friends. Friends who’d had a few intimate moments. 

You ushered him into the house and closed the door behind him before wrapping your arms around him in a hug. It was then that he let everything out and started to cry in your arms. “I’ll never be good enough for him...” 

You two stayed up talking for the longest where he’d explained what went down before Ward kicked him out. You offered your place to stay for as long as he needed, but he would need to pull his own weight, which meant trying to find a job. He turned his nose up at the suggestion, “Me? Rafe Cameron working?” 

“If you want to eat and live then yeah. You, Rafe Cameron working.” You laughed, shoving his shoulder, “It’s called not everyone has a rich daddy.”  

He groaned as he fell back on the bed, “How horrid!” 

“I do it almost everyday! It’s not that bad.” You laid down next to him, “I’ll ask around, see if I can find you something.” 

He turns his head to look at you, “Thank you. For letting me crash and offering to help find a job.” 

“I’m just paying you back for saving my ass that night.” You’d been at the wrong place, wrong time and was about to be arrested for it when Rafe had appeared out of no where and talked to the officer. Telling the officer you’d been with him the whole time and weren’t anywhere near what had happened. 

He turns on his side and props himself up on his arm, “Couldn’t let you go to jail. You’re too pretty for jail.” 

You can’t help but let your heart flutter at his words. He was serious with his compliment but you weren’t sure how to react. Deciding to play it off, you playfully roll your eyes, “And you’re too pretty to live on the streets.” You laugh and reach over to turn off your light, “Let’s go to sleep.” 

~ 

“What the hell is this!” Kie screeched as she’d opened the door to your bedroom, the pogues behind her. You all had plans today to go fishing, but you weren’t waiting on the dock when they arrived so they decided to see what the hold up was. They didn’t expect to find you curled in bed with Rafe Cameron. 

“Shit!” You quickly sit up, remembering the plans you all had, “It’s not what it looks like.” 

“Not what it looks like?!” JJ asks. 

“Looks like you’re in bed with Rafe Cameron!” John B adds. 

You groan and throw the covers off you, getting out of bed, shooing them out the room, “I’ll explain.” 

Rafe groaned as he woke up, “What’s going on?” 

“Nothing.. just go back to bed.” You said softly, pushing the pogues out of the room. “I’ll handle this.” 

He watches as you push the pogues out of your room and shut the door. Uh oh. 

~ 

“What the hell y/n? Have you lost your mind?” Kie asks as soon as y’all make it to the living room. 

“Out of everyone, Rafe Cameron?” Pope asks, “He’s given us shit for months!” 

“Like I said before, it’s not what it looks like. We didn’t sleep together.” You head into the kitchen to make you a cup of coffee, the pogues following. 

“Then why is Rafe Cameron in your bed?” John B asks. 

You debate telling them the truth; “Can you guys just trust me when I tell you it’s not what it looks like?” 

“No, we can’t. Not after everything that asshole has done to us.” JJ answers, “He’s a snake and a kook. There shouldn’t be a reason for him in your bed.” 

“Okay first of all, who is in my bed is none of your concern.” You warn JJ with a point of a finger, “You’ve fucked almost every girl on the island and every touron who gives you a look, so you can’t say shit. and second, he’s a friend who needed a place to crash, so I gave him one.” 

John B scoffs at that, “What Tanneyhill didn’t have enough rooms for him?” 

“No asshole, his dad kicked him out. You happy now?” You grab the sugar and cream and set them on the counter. 

“It’s Rafe Cameron, he could have gone to anyone else on this island. I mean anyone, he’s friends with everyone. But.. why you?” Pope asks with suspicion. 

“Yeah, y/n. Why would he come to you, a pogue he is supposed to hate looking for a place to stay?” Kie asks, crossing her arms over her chest. 

“You know that night you all ditched me after shit went down at the Boneyard? Yeah well, Rafe was the one who talked me out of being arrested.” You look up at them, “He’s the one who saved my ass while you all just ditched.” 

“We couldn’t get arrested either. You could have ran.” JJ scoffs, “We all did.” 

“They already had it surrounded by the time I reached the tree lines.” 

“Okay but that still doesn’t answer the question of why you.” John B says, his hands on the island in front of him. 

“I don’t know john b maybe he sees me as a friend?! If you haven’t noticed, he’s stopped fucking with you guys, including me. The kooks who mess with us aren’t his buddies. He’s a good guy, if you’d just get to know him. If you’d just give him a chance.” 

Kie gives a half-hearted laugh, “Get to know him.. Yeah okay. You mean sleep with him, don’t you? You’ve slept with him?” 

You step up at Kie, “Like I told JJ, who I fuck is none of your concern.” 

“Alright. let’s just calm down.” Pope mutters, stepping between the two of you, “Kie, y/n is right. Who she.. sleeps with isn’t our concern.” 

“Yeah but y/n you should have told us about this. About you and Rafe. Maybe it wouldn’t have come with such a shock.” John B states with a shrug. 

“It would have been the same reaction you all have now. What does that matter? You all would still be scolding me for getting even close to Rafe or thinking of him as a friend.” 

“She’s right though.” JJ mutters and gives a shrug when the pogues look at him, “I mean it’s the truth. You guys really think we’d be okay with it if she told us it from the beginning?” 

“Fine whatever, okay then why is he here? Why’d his dad kick him out?” 

“I don’t-” 

“Because I didn’t want anything to do with him or his business.” Rafe interrupts, walking into the kitchen and to your side at the counter, “He wanted me to take over the company, be just like him and I said no.” He glances down at you then back up at the pogues, “Plus, I told him I was in love with someone he didn’t approve of.” 

~ 

“You’re.. in love with her?” JJ asks, pointing to you. 

You’re looking up at Rafe in disbelief, “Me?” 

He scratches the back of his neck, “yeah.. I mean this wasn’t how I wanted to tell you...” 

“I love you too..” You whisper with a smile and pull him in for a kiss. 

“oh no.. don’t do it.” JJ groans covering his eyes. 

“Well shit.” John B mutters. 

“I guess pogues vs kooks is over now?” Pope asks. 

Rafe smiles into the kiss, holding you against his body, “I guess I’m a pogue now that I’ve been kicked out?” 

You shook your head with a laugh, “Oh honey, you’re definitely still a kook.” 

“yeah no you’ve never worked a real job in your life.” Kie laughs, “You’re a kook.” 

What else was there to say to you? He loved you, you loved him. The pogues were your friends and even though they’d have to get use to it, they’d still support you and Rafe’s relationship because that’s what friends are for. 

Rafe Cameron // Drew Starkey taglist: @pm-my-hubbies​ , @timotaychalabae , @fratboystark​ , @fangirlvoice​ , @saraholland03​ , @starkeymemories​

All my works tag list: @blossomreed , @mggstyles  , @simonsbluee , @thewolf-and-thesheep , @obxrafe ( @obxrafejjwhore ), @abbiesthings , @itstaskeen , @reniescarlett​

Obx taglist: @poguestyleskye​ , @alexa-playafricabytoto​ , @kaelyn-lobrutto24​ , @prejudic3 , @turtlee-says-rawr​ , @outrbank , @k-k0129​ , @annedub​ , @rockyyc77​ , @ilovejjmaybank​ , @treestarrrrrrrr​​ , @thedarkqueenofavalon​ , @write-from-the-heart​ , @lasnaro​ , @ircnwitch, @normatural​ , @kaylinfayezink​ , @lordsagittarius , @moose-squirrel-asstiel​ , @thelovelydreamer17​ , @chasefreakinstokes​ , @fanficscuziranout​ , @diverrdown​ , @tregua-oca​ , @junkiemuppettxx​ , @afterglowsb-tch13​ , @hardyxlove​ , @cinnamon-roll-seth​ , @copper-boom​ , @dpaccione​ , @themaddies-obx​ ,

[struwwelzeter]

For a variety of reasons, I got into a bit of a rabbit hole about Richard's guitars, and my brain went "oh I know someone who will probably have opinions on this" so essentially, if you feel like it, pretty please talk RZK guitars to me? Favourite? Retired one that needs to come back? (Though I probably already know the answer, that fancy black one?)

Allrighty, buckle up because this is gonna be long. After much consideration I have decided to split it up in two parts because I don’t think I can make it fit into one post that is still vaguely tumblr appropriate, and I really wanted to do it some sort of justice. I still feel like I don’t. But oh well. Full disclaimer, I am NOT a guitarist, but I lived with a few, two of my best friends are pro players and I’m a sponge so I kind of soaked some bits and pieces up over the last 15 years. But in case any lost guitar hero finds this and disagrees with me over the finer points of tone wood: I know honey, I oversimplified, and I am wrong. I tried? 💜 for easier read I formatted everything specific to Richard’s guitars normally and anything general about electric guitars in cursive.

My main sources besides watching about a 100 a month of guitar tube videos (that is youtube for guitarists) with my ex, my main sources will be this interview and this.

Richard Z. Kruspe (of Rammstein and Emigrate)’s Guitars - In Order of Appearance, Part 1/2

Diamant (Les Paul Style)

“I traded the acoustic for a guitar called Diamant, which was like a Les Paul version in East Germany.” - RZK

Now I’m skipping the acoustic he started out with, because it’s basically impossible to know what that was, and go straight into the electric. Now presumably, it would have been something like this, a soviet build Les Paul rip off. The irony is that these still go for several thousands up on reverb today for being historical and collectors pieces. The thing is, that while anything east build might have used cheaper materials, I would assume this thing isn’t worse than any of the beginner/intermediate models sold today, if not better, and kids all over the world do decent stiff with those.

Something general about electric guitars is that you don’t really so much play the guitar, you play an entire system. The instrument doesn’t make the sound, it only influences it. You play a guitar - but you even more so play the amp. Which makes this a bit tricky, because an e-guitar is a slab of wood and a copper coil, and amps are way more complex. You can make the exact same guitar sound so many ways. Still - there are tendencies. The fact how and why and to which degree the shape and wood of a solid body (a guitar without a hollow wood piece) influences the sound is highly debated and can get a bit esoteric sounding to sane people non-guitarists, but there are some differences in how the general set up and build of the guitar changes things, and tendencies how they are traditionally outfitted. Les Paul style guitars are normally humbucker guitars, Stratocasters and Telecasters normally are outfitted with single coils. Usually a guitarist can switch - between using the bridge, the neck, or both (or more) pick ups and depending on where the pick up is located they pick up different frequencies, different aspects of the sound. Humbuckers produce a richer, deeper or fuller sound than single coils. Very roughly speaking, think the Stones vs. Metallica.

Fender Stratocaster

“Then in East Germany, we had this imagination to get one of the great guitars, to me it was always the Fender Stratocaster because it was the Jimi Hendrix guitar. I didn’t know anything about pickups or humbuckers or whatever. So there was this guy that I met in a café in my old hometown and he was buying all these books because he could get all the books out through customs and he would store them in my apartment. So we became kind of acquainted. He would come over and pick up the books. So one time he came over and I asked him if he could get me a guitar and bring it over. In East Germany, if you exchange money from East to West it would be like 1 East mark and 20 West mark. SO everything I had, I changed it to West Mark and I gave him the money and I gave him the money and asked him to please buy me a Fender Stratocaster. I gave him the money and I didn’t hear anything for like three months, nothing. I wasn’t able to call because we didn’t have phones and stuff like that – it was a different time. So I thought fuck, I gave him 1400 west mark and now he’s gone and never coming back. [...] Then my imagination was so high, I thought the guitar would just play by itself and I wouldn’t really have to do anything, which I found out was bullshit. I was really happy that I had the guitar but it wasn’t really the sound that I had in mind.” - RZK

The first time I heard that story, I literally went “no, no, no, don’t be stupid, don’t give him your money, you won’t even like that guitar, stupid, lost dumbass.” I can not, for the life of me, imagine him play anything other than humbuckers. He apparently does use single coils for some things today again in the studio, but still, it’s so obviously wrong. He did play one again sometime during the late 90s, but I couldn’t find anything on the pick ups he used with that, but can hardly imagine he kept the original, unless he needed it for a specific sound maybe in one or two songs. I get it though. For many, many people the Fender Stratocaster is THE guitar. Jimi Hendrix is the main reason for that, but it’s also the countless idols that picked it up after him for the same reason, people who ended up plastered on the walls of angsty teenagers in their own right. This totally has to do with the whole amp thing aswell. You see your idol play that type of guitar ... but it’s not even half of the sound, and it won’t sound the same. Maybe probably they changed the pick ups, they have an effect rig, the spend hours fiddling with the knobs on an amp you can never afford. It’s never the same. Which is why ...

Fender Telecaster Black Gold

Then I had a guitar that I was very fond of. It was an older black and gold telecaster – there weren’t very many of them made at that point. I put a Seymour Duncan Jeff Beck SH-4 in there, like a humbucker. I remember it was like my beauty guitar and I needed someone to put that pickup in and I was with Paul and he had more experience with that stuff than me so he would get out a hammer and a chisel and he start banging away on it and I was like ‘Fuck! Fuck! Don’t do that!’ but we put the thing in there and it was one of my favorite guitars” - RZK

... this one first didn’t really make sense for me for him. It’s even more a classic single coil guitar than the Strat is, and it only really started making sense for me when I learned he Paul indeed put a Humbucker in there. It’s a stunningly beautiful guitar, and weirdly non-modern for him. I don’t know why and this is completely instinctual on my part, but I find it fitting he played it during that time after the wall came down, which seems to have been a rough time for him generally, it seems like a somehow super emotional guitar, this relic. Telecasters were some of the first electrics ever build, it’s such a pioneer, but it’s also one that alot of punk bands used, possibly because they were old and cheap in the 70s and noisy and people customized it and put other pick ups in. The whole putting a chisel to it and adding a humbucker into it is such a “I’m gonna make whatever I have fit for me, and I’ll love it” move. If you look at it, a double coil pick up is really something you have to force to go in there, you really have to break it open. There is also this:

“... and then I think I had to sell it because I needed drugs or something. I was really sad that I sold it because I was at a very low point in my life.” - RZK

If I would get the chance to do one thing only for him to thank him for his music, I would go back in time to that Richard who is just sad about selling that guitar and hug him, and tell him he doesn’t need to worry, because they will name guitars after him in the future. It breaks my heart so fucking much. But of course, it’s what opens the doors to what happens next, which is ...

ESP 901

“That led me to my very first convention in Frankfurt. With guitars, it is like with women, you have to fall in love. Sometimes you get a guitar and you fall in love later but there has to be some sort of connection with it. So I was walking around that convention and I saw that guitar hanging at the ESP stand. It was a 901 ESP Sunburst and I was looking at it because it was such a beauty. And I was walking around for hours – they probably thought I was some weird guy who wants to steal the guitar. I bought that guitar and that’s how I got connected with ESP.” -RZK

He might have fallen for it because it is pretty, but it did come with a ESP double humbucker set up, with an added condensator to muffle up the sound, although not yet an active one (more on that later). It was a 90s metal guitar, one of those things marketed to the Metallica generation, something loud and heavy and full. Also, and this is where I will put in another general insert, there is something else about the choice of electric guitars that we haven’t talked about yet.

Now, I’ve discussed that you can push or pull the sound of a electric quite far in one or the other direction with what pick ups you use, what effects, what amps. But what this ignores is that especially standing up a guitar is a really shitty asymmetrical piece of equipment. And what that does to your body is that it needs to fit you, your hands, and your playing style. Some people prefer it chunky, others like sender. Guitarists, especially the 80s shredders, like to talk about a “fast neck”, which is another one of those things that get slightly esoteric, but which usually means a slimmer neck and slightly bigger frets, that need less way for your fingers to press until the string gets stopped. Someone who plays very bendy blues might dislike that and prefer something to dig in their fingers more down to the fretboard to get more control over how they bend the string. There are different neck profiles, there are different neck lengths, and all of it contributes to how comfortable someone might find their guitar.

I am mentioning this, because until today, Richard’s guitars are build very similarly to that ESP 901. His Eclipse Model is a tad different (again, more on that later), but the one he uses the most, the RZK I, has the same neck scale, similar frets, and that comfortable ESP slender neck. Even the shape seems to be inspired by turning it upside down. He has said in interviews that he hasn’t got very strong hands, and it makes perfect sense to me. I bought my own electric (again, more on that later) purely because I wanted to own one and not even so much because I ever had any real ambitions of learning to play it, but my friends at the time (10 years ago now) forced me to try out alot (!) of models (despite me knowing what I wanted), and the only guitars that I tried that had slimmer necks were Ibanez guitars, which in turn were wider. Ironically Frankfurt is my hometown, so the place to try a lot of different models is That exact convention Richard went to, and I haven’t skipped a Musikmesse in the last 15 years. I was at atleast one were Richard was too (I just didn’t care at the time, yikes), and it somehow greatly pleases me he found “his” guitar at that particular convention. Things have changed in recent years, but electric guitars always were in Hall 4.01, with ESP being left of center in the middle, and I don’t know, I can just see him walking in circles around it, and it makes me so emotional for him because it’s what musicians do at that place. It’s really loud, everyone is playing, there is someone better noodling around at every corner, and it can be quite an intimidating setting I think. And every year you see that one kid coming back and back again to that same stand, staring at that one guitar until they finally work up the nerve and ask to try it (or the staff takes pity on them and offer). And it’s the same everytime, they think “oh god they must think I am crazy” but really, nobody does. Everyone in that hall who owns a heart knows what those dreams are made of, and all it maybe does inspire is a “oh god, I hope that one makes it”. I digress. I think it’s more common now to look for different neck styles and companies started caring about it, but especially coming from Fender and Gibson guitars, that neck is honestly just very, very nice for weaker hands.

This is where I will stop, because it makes a good moment for a break and this post is honestly getting too out of hand otherwise. There will be a part 2 - where Richard starts using active pick ups, starts playing my favorite guitar in the whole wide world (and stops playing it), and finally, set up his own signature.

This is him with that 901 though: when he must have had it pretty much brandnew, while he used it, and right before he sold it.

[proudfreakmetarusonikku]

Hmm, Street kids!au? Like both dream and tommy

(Quick warning- there’s a very brief reference to hypothetical CSA. Nothing happens to anyone but the possibility is mentioned.)

Tommy never knew his parents, never knew the feeling of a warm bed or food or not fighting every day for his scrap of bread. That was fine, though. He had his own family, as shattered and fucked up as it was. Sure, they lived in abandoned buildings when they were lucky, the streets when they were not, they never had enough, their numbers dropped often enough he’d grown numb to loss, but they loved each other far more than he reckoned any of the rich folk did.

Dream was the leader of the lot. He was smart, he was the oldest at fifteen, and he was willing to do whatever it took to survive. He always wore a wooden mask when out in the street, only taking it off on the rare occasions the kids could be alone, and Tommy wasn’t naive to why. He was a big boy at nine years old, and he knew how awful adults could be to kids with no one to listen to them.

The kids that were alive now were pretty cool, he thought. Tubbo was practically his little brother (sure, he was older than him by a year, but he barely even came up to Jack's shoulder, let alone Tommy’s) and he was the cutest of the lot so he did lots of begging. Jack Manifold was eleven and he just never was able to go down no matter how many blows he took. Puffy was fourteen and the only girl, and girls were clearly better than men, they were far less scary, so she was Tommy's favourite. She was really good at sneaking into homes and stealing stuff and she knew pirate stories that could send everyone to sleep.

Tommy used to be on begging duty, before Tubbo came along, and it worked better when he was really little, back when Dream was younger than he was and he was a babe abandoned on the streets he picked up. Truly, though, his true calling was pickpocketing. He was also good at cooking and cleaning and sewing, but that wasn’t really as big a deal. Made things comfortable, sure, but not things needed to survive unlike stealing.

Tommy’s life changed forever, but not in the way he expected, when some rich brat caught him picking his pockets. Tommy expected to be hit, dragged to the police station, probably get beat by the coppers, he knew what bastards they are. He didn’t expect the boy to just. Give him money? And offer him food?

Tommy should have said no. Dream had taught him well. People being nice just wanted favours, and you shouldn’t accept. But he was so hungry, so he followed the boy to a restaurant, looking very out of place in his raggedy jacket next to the boys luxurious pastel clothes.

The food probably cost more than Tommy had ever owned in his life, and Tommy wolfed it down while the ginger haired boy chatted. He was called Fundy, apparently, and he was fourteen (“so young father barely permits me out on the town!” he laughed). He was the kid of some insane old money family, who’s grandfather and patriarch apparently developed the habit of picking up any old waif off the streets, which seemed to have passed on to his grandson.

Apparently, his best friend Niki was one of them, being an anxious and angry little girl in rags barely covering her when she’d first come home, and now she was well-fed and smiled and was training to be a baker. Fundy passed him a smile, an address, and said he could come by anytime.

Tommy took a breath. “I’ve got… friends, though.”

“You can take them! Uh, probably, I’ll have to ask the old man,” Fundy said enthusiastically, his fox-like eyes shining.

Tommy went back to the alley his makeshift family was staying in, feeling optimistic. He’d have to see if Fundy and the family was legitimate first, that way if he got hurt it was just him and not the rest of them. And if they were, maybe they could all have a life. Maybe he wouldn’t have to leave another friends corpse in a too-shallow grave.

He should have paid more attention to the feeling of eyes on him.

Tommy yelped when he was pushed to the wall, rusty knife to his throat. A rotting wooden mask half-covered the face of his attacker, wild green eyes and long wild dirty blond hair exposed.

“Are you trying to leave me, Tommy? You trying to leave, huh?” Dream’s voice was shaking, as opposed to his usual perpetual calm.

“No! I just-“

“You’re just an idiot. Do you know what could happen to you?”

“I was- I was going to see if they were legit, you know.” Tommy struggled for breath, feeling the knife cut lightly into his throat. “Then if they were bad, only I’d get hurt, and if they weren’t, we could all-“

“I. Don’t. Care.” Dream hissed. “I’d rather all of us die than lose you. Even think about it again and I’ll slit your throat and then mine.”

Tommy nodded blankly, and was let go, tumbling towards the ground. Dream hugged him, like nothing had happened, talking to him like a big brother, as Tommy questioned the boy who raised him for the first time.

If anyone else wants to send in some more AU ideas it’d be lovely and I will make them heavily involve c!primeboys no matter what and again that’s a challenge.