#and was explaining something and said if it’s looks off that might be me i mix up letters sometimes

[faithshouseofchaos]

So you're looking for franquito requests? I have too many ideas, like it's insane. The things this man does to me I swear 🥰🥰🥰

Well, maybe you could do something like Argentinian non famous reader (not necessarily Argentinian but u know) dating him and nobody knows about her, till one day they both went tired of people assuming he's single n PUM, hard launch. I don't know if I explained this correctly, English isn't my first language so I'm sorry bby 🥺

💛🇦🇷

Hard launch — Franco colapinto x fem!reader

Faceclaim — none I left it pretty inclusive for everyone Warnings— none

Fluff

Word count—

Summary— no one knew Franco was dating anyone until he was photographed at a party kissing his girlfriend.

Franco posted to his instagram

Caption— Fue un fin de semana difícil que terminó en abandono, pero tengo ganas de correr en Las Vegas (it was a tough a weekend that ended in a dnf but i'm looking forward to racing in Vegas)

Liked by — Lewishamilton, Lando_Norriss yourusername, and 292 others

Comments

User1– not Franco making goggly eyes at Lando during the drivers parade

User2– you’ll get them next weekend Franco

User3– Franco try not to flirt with everyone challenge failed

User4– I’m surprised that Franco is still single man’s flirts with everyone

Your username— I think you did well today Franco

Liked by Franco

User5– we all saw that right?

User6– oh we saw alright

Y/n posted to her story (private instagram)

Caption— chico somnoliento 💤😴 (sleepy boy)

Comments off

Seen by … Franco_colapinto43 and yourBFF

Yourprivinstagram

Caption— adivina de quién es la casa (guess who’s home)

Liked by Franco_colapinto43, yourBFF

Comments limited—

yourBFF— who’s that funny looking man on my wife’s instagram account.

Franco_Colapinto43– last time I checked I was her boyfriend 🤨

yourBFF— for now 😁

Franco_Colapinto43– what’s that supposed to mean???

————————————————————————

The party was alive with chatter, music, and the occasional burst of laughter. People milled about, drink in hand, dancing in the dim light as the night carried on. Franco was standing by the bar, joking with a group of friends, when his eyes caught yours across the room. You were leaning against a wall, watching the crowd with a slight smile, your arms casually crossed. You always did prefer standing back and observing, letting the noise of others fade into the background.

Franco’s grin widened, and without a second thought, he excused himself from the conversation and made his way toward you. He didn’t care that people might be watching. He had long since stopped caring about the whispers, the questions, the rumors. It was just you two now, and that was enough.

“Hey,” he greeted, slipping an arm around your shoulders as he leaned in, his lips brushing your ear. “You having fun?”

You raised an eyebrow at him, playful as ever. “You know me, I’m just here to make sure you don’t embarrass yourself.”

He laughed, the sound low and easy. “Oh, trust me, it’s too late for that.” He pulled you a little closer, your bodies pressed together in the cozy little corner of the room. You rolled your eyes but didn’t pull away, enjoying the warmth of his embrace.

The laughter around you seemed to fade, the chatter becoming a blur, and it was like the two of you were in your own world for a moment. Franco’s thumb traced the outline of your arm before he pulled back slightly, his mischievous smile never leaving his face.

“What if we stopped letting everyone assume I’m single?” he asked casually, his eyes glinting with that familiar spark.

You didn’t have to think about it—this had been brewing for weeks, maybe even months. You’d both gotten tired of the secrecy, of the constant guessing. You didn’t care about the opinions of strangers anymore, not when it came to him.

“I think it’s time,” you said, your voice light but resolute.

And then, with an ease that could only come from the comfort of being with someone who knew you better than anyone else, Franco leaned in, his lips catching yours in a quick, almost careless kiss.

For a moment, time seemed to stop. The room fell silent, people frozen in place. But you didn’t care. You were too busy focusing on the way his lips lingered just long enough to make it clear.

As you pulled away, your hearts still beating in sync, the sound of murmurs around you slowly started up again. Whispers rippled through the crowd, but neither of you looked around. You didn’t need to.

Franco grinned and shrugged, pulling you close again. “Guess we’re not hiding anymore,” he said with a teasing smile, as if nothing had just happened. You couldn’t help but laugh. “Guess not.”

——————————————

F1.Gossip has posted

Caption— f1 driver Franco Colapinto caught kissing an unidentified woman while at a party.

Liked by— yourBFF, and 19289 others

Comments

User7– WAIT WHAT?!?!

User8– who is she?

User9– con—😭😭—grad—😭😭—ulations—😭😭

User10– I new there was no way he was single

Franco_Colapinto43–has posted

Caption— Bueno, gatos fuera de la balsa, feliz Segundo aniversario, mi amor. (well cats out of the bag happy 2 year anniversary my love)

liked by — lando_norris, Yourusername, yourBFF and 1028 others

[ha-rinrin]

Home in the Madness

summary: In the heart of a chaotic hideout, surrounded by machinery and unfinished projects, a makeshift family finds comfort in each other.

Pairing: Jinx x Fem!reader

Wordcount: 1.4k

Authors note: Im feeling real low but writing about Jinx and Isha brings me serotonin.

masterlist

The hideout was as chaotic as ever, filled with the constant hum of machinery and the unmistakable scent of burnt metal. It was the kind of place that could make anyone feel lost in the mess, yet here, in the middle of it all, there was something beautifully grounding about the way you, Jinx, and Isha existed together. The walls were covered in graffiti, the floors cluttered with half-finished projects, but in the midst of the madness, there was a family—an unspoken bond that ran deeper than the wreckage of the world around you.

You sat beside Jinx on the floor, her warm, electric energy radiating off her, drawing you in like a magnet. She was showing Isha how to assemble a small gun, her hands moving with practiced ease, but it wasn’t just the task at hand that made your heart race. It was the way Jinx looked at you when she thought no one was watching, her eyes softening just for a moment before she went back to her usual chaos.

She was yours in a way no one could ever understand—wild, unpredictable, and impossibly charming. You were more than just partners; you were a team, and in this makeshift family you’d created, the love between the two of you was undeniable. Jinx’s playful touches, the way she leaned in just a little closer when explaining something to Isha, the light teasing in her voice—it was all wrapped in layers of affection that only you could truly see. You knew her better than anyone, her quirks, her flaws, her genius, and above all, the love she had for you.

“Okay, kiddo, you see these parts?” Jinx said, her voice playful and energetic as she held up a small metal piece. “This is the trigger guard. We gotta be careful with it, alright? If you mess up, it’s not a ‘boom,’ but it’s still a pop that’s gonna sting.”

Isha nodded seriously, her wide eyes focused on Jinx, hanging on every word. “A pop,” she repeated, her voice almost a whisper as if speaking too loudly might ruin everything. She took the metal piece in her tiny hands and studied it.

You watched her, your heart fluttering as she gently guided Isha’s hands. You couldn't help but smile, loving the way her energy filled the space, making it feel like home.

Isha looked up at you both with wide, eager eyes, clearly trying her best to mirror everything Jinx was doing. “Like this, right?” she asked, holding up the piece of metal like it was the most important thing in the world.

You leaned in, your hand brushing against Jinx’s as you offered a gentle correction, your fingers tracing the outline of Isha’s little hands. “Just a bit to the left, like this,” you murmured, looking at Isha with the kind of softness that only came when you were with them.

Isha's eyes sparkled with determination as she followed your instructions, her little fingers carefully holding the pieces together. She glanced up at you, then over to Jinx, looking for approval.

“Looking good, kid!” Jinx chimed in, leaning closer to inspect Isha’s progress. Her voice was as encouraging as it was teasing. “You’re gonna be the best gunsmith in the Lanes at this rate.”

Isha beamed at the compliment, a proud smile spreading across her face. She tightened her grip on the parts, adjusting them ever so slightly before her hands froze. “Am I doing it right?”

“Perfect,” you reassured her, leaning in to gently guide her hands into place. “You just need a bit more pressure on the side here, like this—”

Just as you finished the sentence, Sevika's low, almost inaudible chuckle broke through the stillness of the room. You glanced up and saw her sprawled across the couch, arms crossed, eyes watching you three with a calm amusement. She didn’t seem to mind the chaos—she had gotten used to it long ago—but you could tell she was enjoying the scene. There was something comforting in seeing the whole family together, in its own disjointed, chaotic way.

“Are you sure teaching her to make guns is safer than bombs?” Sevika’s voice was laced with dry humor, but there was an underlying affection in the way she watched over you all. She didn’t often show it, but her eyes softened whenever she saw you and Jinx together, especially with Isha.

Jinx let out a mischievous giggle, leaning over to poke you in the side. “Hey, I didn’t think Isha needed to make any big explosions just yet.” She shot Sevika a look, her grin wide and full of playful challenge. “Gotta start small, right?”

Sevika raised an eyebrow, giving a half-smile as she pushed herself up from the couch, walking over to where you, Jinx, and Isha were. “You two are going to turn her into a walking arsenal, aren’t you?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Jinx replied with mock innocence, but there was a flicker of pride in her voice. “Just showing her the basics. Gotta be prepared, right?”

You’d never imagined a life like this, especially not with Isha—your heart swelled as you realized just how much she had become part of your world. Over the past few months, she'd grown on you, not just as Jinx’s sidekick, but as your little girl. She was smart, fierce, and sweet in ways that surprised you. It didn’t matter that she wasn’t technically your child; she was family, your child. You loved her fiercely, like you loved Jinx.

Isha proudly held up the completed gun, a wide grin on her face. 'I did it!” she declared, her voice full of pride and excitement.

“Perfect!” Jinx cheered, her voice full of pride as she high-fived Isha. You could see the joy in her eyes as she ruffled Isha’s hair, her usual carefree grin softening with an unexpected hint of pride.

You smiled at her, the love for this little girl bubbling in your chest. “You did amazing, Isha,” you said softly, pulling her into a quick hug. “I’m so proud of you.”

Your eyes met Jinx’s for a moment, and there was a softness there, something you hadn’t seen in a while. Without a word, she leaned in, her lips brushing yours in a soft kiss. In that fleeting moment, the world fell away, leaving just the two of you. You could feel her wild affection for you—untamable and pure. She was more than just Jinx, more than the chaos. She was yours, and you were hers. The bond between the two of you had grown so strong, woven through with every shared look, every touch, and every moment spent together, even in the madness.

As she pulled away, her fingers lingered on your hand, her thumb tracing the lines of your palm in a soft, intimate gesture. There was a glimmer of something deeper in her eyes—something that made your heart beat just a little faster, something that said everything without saying a word.

“Love you,” Jinx whispered, her voice quiet but steady. You could feel the weight of those words, how much she meant them. She didn’t need to say it often; you both knew.

“I love you too,” you replied, your voice just as soft as you gave her hand a gentle squeeze. 

You leaned back against the wall beside Jinx, your hand instinctively finding hers. In that simple touch, you realized that, amid all the madness, this moment felt like home. There was something so natural about it now, like the two of you were always meant to be here, in this messy hideout, teaching Isha how to make guns. You and Jinx were in love, but it was more than that. It was a deep, unshakeable connection that made everything feel like it had meaning, even in the chaos of the Lanes.

Jinx grinned, her heart clearly swelling with affection for the girl who had become part of the fabric of her world. “She’s gonna be unstoppable,” Jinx said with a laugh, her eyes meeting yours once more, this time with something even deeper than mischief. Something that said, without words, this is home.

Sevika snorted, shaking her head. “Don’t get any ideas, Jinx. I’m not cleaning up after all the disasters you two are going to cause.”

Jinx winked at her, her fingers still intertwined with yours. “No promises,” she teased. But there was warmth in her voice, a depth to it that spoke volumes.

You, Jinx, Isha, and Sevika—somehow, despite everything—had become a family. It wasn’t a traditional one. Hell, it wasn’t even close. But in the chaotic, unpredictable world you all lived in, it was more than enough. And as Isha held the gun frame proudly in her hands, a bright smile lighting up her face, you realized that this—this chaotic, loud, beautiful family—was everything you needed.

[diy-dynamite]

Longing for Home

Mr. Crawling x Reader || feminine terms used (wedding dress ��) so I think this is for the fems... I'm sorry guys

Contents: spoilers for one of Homicipher's endings that I don't remember, NOT a part of my "Television" series (but I might make a version of this for that)

********

YOU never found your way back home. With your skin stained with red, rash-like patches, and with your body slowly conforming through regenerative cycles, your home is no longer the one you knew.

This is your home.

Your home is in this strange building.

Your home is in the room next to Mr. Silvair and Mr. Chopped's.

Your home is on one of the two hospital beds that stand next to each other.

Your home is standing in front of you.

Or crawling, rather.

He was leading you back to the room after your usual wandering, collecting cute trinkets from the piles that fell from the human world. You came back with an arm full of things, and surprisingly, the majority were makeup.

Not the major glam kind, but stuff like lip gloss, lipstick, mascara, and powdery stuff for the eyes that you can't remember—and it hurts that you forgot what it was.

You laid them out on your bed, Mr. Crawling sitting on the ground next to you, looking at what you brought back with a puzzled look on his face.

He called all of them "things," which isn't entirely wrong.

Pop! An idea went off in your sneaky little head.

"You like me?" you asked out of the blue, turning to him with lip gloss in hand.

He tilted his head and chirped a little, ridiculing your question. "I like you? I love you many. You tired?" he asked, as if to say, "Is the fatigue messing with you?"

You laughed. He smiled. "Not tired!" you explained, then you sat down in front of him. You gestured him closer, so he did as you asked and crawled a couple of inches closer to you.

"You do something for me," you said.

"...?"

"Don't move."

...

"Don't move!!" you laughed, finally putting lipstick on him properly. He was struggling to hold still, the feeling of the lipstick irritating him.

"So cute!" you said, hoping to calm him down with a compliment as you shut the lipstick lid. "Cute! Cute!"

"Strange..." he mumbled, reaching up to wipe it off, but he didn't do it. He couldn't. Not when you said he was cute this way. "I cute...?"

You nodded, beaming brightly, and he couldn't resist it, so he didn't remove the lipstick.

As you rummaged in your little collection, you found a magazine full of ladies with white, majestic, beautiful dresses. Almost like The Bride's, but way more... lively.

No.

Way more alive.

Just how long will it take for you to lose all that feeling?

No—if you long for it, then it must've already been missing.

The home you knew is a place you can never reach again.

That's where your heart is. That's why your chest feels so hollow.

Do you even have a heart anymore?

You pressed a hand against your chest, and you felt a pang of envy for the smiling woman and man on the front page. Technically, you were never alone. You had Mr. Crawling!

That didn't help how you felt, though.

Jealousy.

Longing, nostalgia, and jealousy.

A longing for that human feeling, a nostalgia for your childhood dreams, and jealousy, because you no longer had that within your reach while others do.

You threw the magazine over your shoulder, and you buried your face on your mattress, knees still on the floor, and you tried to get rid of the heaviness on your chest.

You didn't cry.

It just... hurts.

***

It felt like ages—Mr. Crawling came in and out, bringing in various people to try and check on you after his own attempts failed. Mr. Silvair didn't do anything. He didn't know what to do. Mr. Chopped tried to console you with his silly faces—the expressions you showed and taught him with your own face—but to no avail. He even dragged in Mr. Stitch—and he hates that fellow—albeit bloody from Mr. Crawling forcing him to follow, but you didn't look up at all. He shoved Mr. Stitch right back out once he didn't work, though.

He was starting to panic. You never did this before.

He tried to think back to anyone else who you seemed to tolerate the presence of, but... oh!

The pile of pages you threw! That was the last thing that you touched before you shut yourself off!

He picked it up, looking at it with a puzzled coo. He didn't understand it, but he noticed that in most of the pages, there were people like you who were smiling happily together. He wondered why.

Oh! Maybe you wanted a new dress! Is that it?

He glanced at you and tried to show you the book again, but you only inched away. At least he knew now not to do that again....

He quickly left the room and glanced down the halls.

Then with one huff, he recited: "Clothes!"

"Clothes?"

He giggled when he saw The Bride appear.

"You hurt...?" she pointed at his face. Specifically, his mouth.

Mr. Crawling proudly showed it off, smiling. "They put it. They say I cute."

She raised a white dress, trying to offer it to him, but he shook his head.

"They sad," he said. He raised the book. "Clothes."

The Bride, elegant and poised, glanced at the book with her non-existant eyes (and head). "Wonderful! Wonderful, cute!"

"Clothes," he pointed at one of the dresses. He liked this one, specifically, where the dress wasn't as puffy as the others, but not as skinny. There were white clothes for the hands (gloves) and for the legs (stockings), and there was a strange but aesthetically pleasing clump of cloth on the back (a rose made of silk).

"They look cute, this."

"I make!" The Bride nodded eagerly. If she had a head, she'd be smiling the same way the humans in the book were. "I make, I give!"

It didn't take long—she disappeared, and Mr. Crawling waited outside your door for only a moment until she came back with an even prettier version of the dress.

Mr. Crawling, trying to contain his excitement, chirped happily and let The Bride enter your room.

You were still there, curled over your bed, but you were putting the same red thing you put on his.

If he had eyes, they'd be sparkling. He had no idea what you did to yourself, but you looked... even better than you already did. Which is saying something—you were everything to him, and now you have such a pretty shade over your eyes, and your lips were like his!

"You hurt?!" The Bride gasped again.

You let out a strained laugh. Mr. Crawling knew it wasn't a real one. "Not hurt. I... make me cute."

"You cute! Before!" The Bride said. "Cute now, cute before."

"They cute," Mr. Crawling agreed simply. "Give! Give!" he urged the ghost-woman in white.

"Give," she extended the dress to you.

You stared.

And stared.

And you... began to cry.

Mr. Crawling panicked, and so did The Bride. There you were, kneeling next to your bed with tears running down your face. Mr. Crawling immediately took his place beside you, holding your head in his hands as he tried to console you.

"I sorry," he said, but he didn’t know what for. "I sorry, don't sad... I sorry—"

He would've apologised on and on if it weren't for how the black streaks appeared from your eyes.

You looked even prettier to him.

He loved it when you smiled, but he dies a little more than he already did, figuring out that you were so pretty when you cried.

"No, no," you said, wiping the black gunk off your face. "I—I love—" you pointed at the dress. "So—so wonderful, can't—can't.... You...!"

Your shaky hands held his face, and he didn't know what to do.

"You... kind... can't cry not," you continued to sob.

"...you kind," he mumbled in return. He's still confused, though.

***

Did this ho just assume you wanted a new dress??? Because he wasn't entirely wrong. Or maybe that's just you trying to justify it all.

Even if you tried, you can't stop crying. He doesn't comprehend the layers of what you feel yet, but he still tried, and you can't. Stop. Crying.

"You're so sweet," you began to ramble in your own language. You cupped his cheek with your hand and your lower lip trembled. "You're so sweet and nice and you always look after me and I—agh, I can't—I hate how nice you are, it's annoying, I love you so much," you sobbed.

He didn't understand at all. Even you yourself didn't—you're losing your knowledge in your own language and you can't stop crying.

You're sad. You're angry, you're missing what you used to have, you're happy, you—

Mr. Crawling seemed hopeful, leaning a little closer to make sure you're okay.

Your weeping calmed.

You realised something.

A sliver of human shame entered your face, embarrassment for crying, but as well as another thing. You can't quite tell what it is.

You wiped your tears away and stood up, hoping they'd just forget about it.

"Thank you," you said to The Bride. She seemed confused, but so were you, so it's fine. "I appreciate. Clothes, wonderful."

"Thank you," she clasped her hands together as you took the dress away. "You are wonderful. Farewell," she hesitated but left, anyway.

"You ask they make clothes for me?" you asked Mr. Crawling, going behind the curtain that separated the two beds.

He tilted his head. "Yes."

Were you gonna cry again...?

"I appreciate," you said, wiping your face down with the blankets of the other bed.

After a moment of shuffling into the new dress, you suddenly froze.

No, no—you were nervous.

Why?

You glanced over your shoulder to see Mr. Crawling, expectant, and, as before, confused.

You peeked your head out, and he lit up with a smile. "I unsure."

"....?" he frowned a little. "Unsure?"

~~~

"Honey, I'm not sure."

"What? Why?" he laughed. "We did agree to this, right?" he joked. You would've laughed, but right now, your thoughts were too clouded for you to even form a grin.

"Yeah, but..." you bit your tongue, wary.

Your fiance—no, your husband laughed. "Sweetheart, nothing will go wrong. It's just a superstition."

But what if it isn't?

You glanced down at yourself, clad in a shiromuku. You heard one of the guests say they'd "go home" (a superstition in Japan that they say might jinx the marriage). What if something bad happens, now?

Before you could overthink, his hands clasped over yours, his long, black hair only sealing his own black-coloured attire, his effortless ethereality catching you off guard again.

"No matter what happens, I'll be right next to you. It doesn't matter what the guests say," he said, pressing a light kiss on your knuckles.

You felt your cheeks bloom, and your heart only sunk deeper in the well of love you carried for him.

"And as much as you're adorable when you cry...." he then said, so you smacked his arm with a playful laugh. He responded with a giggle of his own and only held you closer.

"Let's head back inside, okay?" he smiled and pressed a soft kiss on your forehead. "Staying in the garden for too long might make the guests assume something."

That earned him another smack, and that made him give you another laugh.

He tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear, but there wasn't any. He just wanted to hold your face.

He smiled.

"I love you so much."

********

This is already way too long so I'll just have to make a part 2 SIGH

[meameagirl]

Injury! -- Joe Burrow

Summary: Joe was away for a game and you couldn't go as he was gone you got hurt. You was freaking out but also worry to tell Joe as he at a game.

Word Count: 744

Slightly injury you, head injury, little blood , just Joe worry and fluffy

----------

Joe was at an away game and You had gone to a store to buy some decorations for their apartment. You just came back and set the bags on the table. You knew it was smart to wait for Joe to come home but You didn't want to wait another whole day for him to return. You start taking all the things you got and lay it out on the table. It was a little early to start putting Christmas things out but You couldn't help yourself.

You went to the garage to look for some nails and Joe’s hammer he kept here. Soon You find the hammer and nails and go back to the kitchen. You grab the Christmas Gnome and walk to the living room to put the nail in the wall and hang them up. Soon you walk back in the kitchen and grab the christmas garland and you glaze at the cabinet. “I should wait for him.” You told yourself but you being stubborn You don't listen.

You take your shoes off and only have socks on and climb on the counter and stand up on it. You look down. “Not too high I should be fine.” You said to yourself. You start putting the nail in the wall and grab the garland. You get on your tiptoes to hook the garland on the nail. When your foot slips off and you crash onto the floor head hitting the edge of the counter. You lightly groan, touch your head feeling wetness on your hand.

You start looking around feeling dizzy, slowly grab the counter to help you stand up. You grabbed a rag and got it wet with cold water. Press it on your head. You stay leaning on the counter with the rag on your head when your phone rings. You slowly dig it out your pocket seeing it was Jeo who was calling. “I swear he has super power and calls at the wrong time.” You softled said as you answered it.

You hear his voice didn't sound cheerful, must have had a bad game. “After that game I need your voice.” You swallow. He started to explain what happened but it was making your head hurt more so  you cut him off. “I did something stupid.” It got quiet on his end. Soon he says “What you did Y/N” You look up at the half hanging garland. “Might try to hang some garland in the kitchen and slip and hit my head.” You talk slowly. 

It got quiet again but you can hear he was getting up from the hotel bed. You hear him picking things up. Maybe his bag. “Joe?” Joe signs. “Didn't I tell you if you wanna hang something make sure I was home. So I can help so we can skip the whole injury park Y/N. Look, I'm on my way home. Clearly your stubborn ass doesn't understand when I talk. You're gonna listen now. Forget the damn garland and lay down just not flat.i be there in an hour or so.” You nodded even if he can’t see it. He hung up after.

This is why you hated that he called right after you fell. Were you gonna tell him no, maybe tomorrow when he was home. But that was so out of the bag. You knew it was better to listen to him and go lay down. You slowly walk to the couch and lay down on it. The rag lay on your head.

About an hour or two you hear the front getting unlocked and open. You hear his footsteps walk in. He puts his bag down and he walks over kneeling by the couch. He moved the rag. “Hey there, stubborn girl that I love.” You just groan and sit up. He helps you sit up, putting his hand on your back. “How your head darling” He asks as you lean your head on his shoulder. “Dizzy stops and the pain is not too bad.” Joe kisses your head lightly. “Maybe you learn your lesson and let me do the hanging when it comes to Christmas. Rather not have my girlfriend hurt over Christmas crap.” His arm wraps around you as you mumbles “good idea.” you snuggle against his body. And he gives you another kiss on your head. Getting hurt might have been a good thing, one Joe came home early and second the cuddles.

[revelboo]

I love the idea of Everything is Alright being a reverse haram with megs, but I see you said originally. So might not happened, which I think is fine. Star doesn't need anymore trauma, but I can also see the possibility of a simple human mending the tension between the higher ups. Just might cause star, and possibly sounds to be very worried

I may still include Megs later on, just wasn’t sure if I could balance all three. It’s a lot easier when the guys at least kind of get along and this dynamic… not so much

Everything is Alright Pt 55

IDW Starscream x Reader

• Keeping you cradled to him as he types one handed on a report, he’s aware of the warmth of you leaning against him, little head resting against his chassis. “You want to talk about whatever’s bothering you?” You ask softly and his wings flick slightly, servos miskeying a glyph, because he should have realized you’d notice something is off. Always watching him, looking to him. You know him and it’s almost frightening. “You don’t have to,” you add when he’s silent too long, because how to even start? And there’s no way to explain how upset he is about finding out about your life span, without revealing that he cares too much. Without making himself vulnerable and risking rejection.

• Resting your ear against him to listen to the soft thrum of his spark, you don’t really expect him to answer. His feelings are something he hoards, keeping them to himself and only occasionally slipping and letting you see that not only does he care about you, but he needs you with him. “You know I care for you,” he says slowly, raspy words humming through you where you’re against him as one of his servos runs from your shoulder down your arm until you lay your palm against him and he vents. It’s not a question exactly, but not really a statement either. A reminder of how insecure he can be, as if trusting anything or anyone is almost impossible.

• “I care about you, too.” He knows. He really does, but something about hearing you say it settles warm about his spark. Tucking his chin so he can see you, there’s something uncertain in your expression that catches at him before you press your cheek against him so he can’t see your eyes, hiding your expression from him. “I like waking up against you. Like when you worry about me even if you don’t need to. Even when you get aggravated, I like the way your wings fidget.”

• Embarrassed, you keep your face hidden against him, trying to tell him how you feel without saying the actual words. Because telling him you think you might love him and you’re not sure when that happened? Especially if he’s only after something physical, needing someone to be there, but not the same way? It might just break you. You like his nervous tics, like the warmth of him and the way his servos feel absently stroking, touching you. You like him.

• Servos pressing you closer to him, grounding himself with the feel of you until you make a little noise of protest, mumbling that he’s squishing you and he relents. Again he thinks about how it would feel to entrust his spark to you, to feel you touch him that way. Would it only drive home the differences between you? Remind him painfully that there’s no way for this to ever be more, no spark in you to lose himself in? And so little time, he can feel it slipping away from him regardless. Head falling back against the back of his chair, he vents. Softly, hesitantly in Cybertronian, he begins to speak, knowing you can’t understand and feeling you shift to try and look at him as he shutters his optics so he won’t see your expression, because it’s hard enough to open up and this is the only way he can, this one sided conversation. Wishing for things not meant for him, swearing to protect you and cherish what time he has. That you’re his, spark or no spark. Regret and fear and love all tangled together. Feeling when you lay your head back down against him, listening to him without knowing how hard these words are.

Previous

Next

[ot8xbangchansgirlsblog]

𝕃𝕦𝕟𝕒 | ℙ𝕒𝕣𝕥 𝕠𝕟𝕖 | ℙ𝕒𝕣𝕥 𝕥𝕨𝕠 | ℙ𝕒𝕣𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕣𝕖𝕖 | ℙ𝕒𝕣𝕥 𝕗𝕠𝕦𝕣 | ℙ𝕒𝕣𝕥 𝕗𝕚𝕧𝕖 | ℙ𝕒𝕣𝕥 𝕤𝕚𝕩

Warning: Angst/comfort/MPreg/MxM

A/B/O dynamics:

Omega (Han, Felix, Y/n)

Beta (Hyunjin, Seungmin, I.N)

Alpha (Chan, Changbin, Leeknow)

The series might traumatize you. I really hope you guys like it and enjoy it.

Summary - Request; I've just been reading your A/B/O series and it's so so so good. I was wondering if you would accept an ot8 request where their omega gets in trouble with another pack and Straykids are really worried?

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

“Y/N, I’m sorry.”

The words left his lips as soon as he sat down across from her. His voice was low, full of regret, but the moment they left him, he regretted them. He could already feel the weight of her anger pressing down on him.

“Sorry for what exactly, Chan?” Her eyes narrowed, and her voice dripped with venom. “For leaving me for dead?”

Her words hit him like a punch to the gut. His heart tightened painfully, and for a moment, he couldn’t find his voice. If only she knew...

“I didn’t leave you for dead... I promise.” His voice was a soft whisper, as if he were speaking to himself. He shut his eyes, willing away the pain that threatened to swallow him.

“Then what exactly is it?” She scoffed, her arms crossing tightly over her chest. Her eyes flashed with an intensity that made his chest tighten even more. “What’s your excuse?”

“Can... can you let me explain?” His words came out barely above a whisper, but there was a pleading tone to them. He needed her to understand—needed to make her see that he never meant for things to turn out this way.

She tilted her head, studying him for a long, hard moment. “You guys were at the territory line, right? You could smell my scent... and yet you chose to ignore it. You could hear my screams through the bond, but you chose to ignore that too,” she said, each word sharper than the last. Her anger was building, and it felt like it was radiating off her, burning everything in its path.

She was right—and wrong—and it ate at him.

He felt the weight of her words, but there was so much more she didn’t know.

“Oh, Y/N… if you only knew…” Chan thought to himself, but his voice wouldn’t cooperate.

“That’s not what happened!” The words came out more forcefully than he intended, and his hands trembled as he ran them through his hair. “Just... let me explain. Please.”

He couldn’t stop the tears that began to fall now. The overwhelming guilt, the helplessness—it all came rushing back, and he couldn’t stop it.

“Go ahead, I’m listening,” Y/N said bitterly, her arms still crossed, her gaze as hard as stone. She leaned back, her eyes never leaving him. The challenge in her words was clear—prove it.

Chan took a shuddering breath, his chest rising and falling with the weight of everything he had been holding in for so long. He wasn’t sure how to start, but the words felt too important to rush.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Hyung, look at this! Changbin’s voice boasted through the bond, brimming with excitement. He was a few meters away from Chan and LeeKnow, clearly having found something unusual.

What is it? Chan asked, his paws deep in the soil as he worked on scent-marking the perimeter of their territory. The branches around him swayed gently, brushing against his fur.

I just found this… dead… deer? Changbin tilted his head, trying to get a better smell of the carcass, his nose twitching in confusion.

Deer? We never have deer here… Chan responded, perplexed. Wait—don’t touch it! His ears pricked up, a sense of urgency creeping into his tone.

Chan’s body tensed, and he moved swiftly, using his heightened senses to track Changbin’s scent. As he closed the distance, he could feel the hairs along his neck stand on end. When he finally arrived, the sight before him took him by surprise.

Why is there a deer here? Chan questioned, his voice low, almost growling, as he scanned the area. The animal’s body lay unnaturally far from their territory line, and it was disturbing—too far beyond the boundaries of where it should have been.

Do you think someone was here? Changbin asked, circling the lifeless creature, sniffing cautiously.

I can’t smell any other scents, Chan growled, his gut twisting with unease. Something didn’t feel right. His nose was sharp—too sharp—and he knew this land like the back of his paw. There had never been a deer this far into their territory, much less one lying dead.

Stay alert, Chan warned, his voice tightening as a sense of danger gnawed at him.

Changbin nuzzled his snout into Chan’s side in silent understanding before scanning the perimeter, his tail flicking nervously.

I don’t have a good feeling about this, Changbin growled quietly.

“I know. Neither do I,” Chan agreed, taking a few cautious steps away from the deer’s body. His instincts screamed that something was wrong.

It was then that a twig snapped nearby. Chan’s reflexes were lightning fast. He growled, stepping in front of Changbin, his body tensing as he prepared for whatever threat was coming.

It’s just me, hyung. Can’t you smell me? LeeKnow emerged from the bushes, laughing softly, clearly unaware of how close he had come to putting himself in danger.

LeeKnow! Don’t do that! Chan’s voice was a low, furious growl. Oh my God, you almost got yourself killed! He snapped, heart pounding in his chest, the adrenaline still coursing through his veins.

I’m sorry, I’m sorry, LeeKnow quickly apologized, his voice sheepish, but his curiosity got the better of him. I thought you could hear me... I was pretty loud. What’s going on here? Wait—is that a deer? His eyes widened in disbelief.

Yeah, exactly, Chan muttered, still shaken. That’s why we’re on high alert. But I didn’t smell you. In fact… I don’t smell anything. His voice trailed off in confusion, his eyes narrowing as his senses felt off, almost muted. What was going on with his ability to smell?

LeeKnow’s expression darkened as he stepped closer, sniffing the air. Hyung… I don’t have a good feeling about this.

Okay, let’s just go back to the territory line, Chan replied, feeling a sudden surge of protectiveness and unease. Where’s Y/N? I don’t feel good having her this far out. His thoughts were racing. She shouldn’t be anywhere near this strange scene.

She’s picking strawberries by the wild gardens… LeeKnow replied.

Okay, go get her and—

Before Chan could finish his sentence, a sweet, unfamiliar scent filled the air. It was intoxicating, heavy and thick, like something dangerous. Chan’s heart began to race in his chest, his head spinning. What is that?

I don’t feel well, Changbin groaned, rubbing his nose with his paw. The world around them seemed to tilt, and Chan’s body started to feel sluggish, his legs unsteady.

His senses began to dull, and the world around him seemed to blur.

I can’t feel my legs… LeeKnow’s voice was panicked. His body trembled as he tried to move, but his limbs felt frozen.

Shit… It’s a trap, Chan realized too late, his stomach dropping. The sweet scent—the drugging, overpowering smell—it wasn’t just a random scent. It was a weapon.

Changbin! LeeKnow! Can you hear me?! Chan’s voice cracked with fear, the adrenaline flooding his bloodstream as he tried to move. His paws were heavy, his vision swimming. He had heard about this—heard the older Ummas in the village speak in hushed voices about poison or sedative gases. But never had he expected it to happen to them.

Changbin?! LeeKnow?! he cried out, his voice desperate, but there was no response. The two of them were collapsing, just as he was.

Chan felt his body buckle beneath him, his strength draining away as the toxin infiltrated his bloodstream. The world around him slowed to a crawl. His vision blurred, his eyes fluttering. The last thing he saw was a figure—human, but somehow otherworldly—moving toward him.

The figure knelt beside him, their face twisted into a mocking smirk. “Oh, the mighty alpha… can’t even protect his luna,” they said, their voice dripping with disdain.

Luna. The word hit him like a punch to the gut.

His heart skipped a beat. Y/N. She was out there, alone, and he couldn’t do anything.

Chan’s vision faded completely as the darkness claimed him. His body went limp, unconscious, the last coherent thought in his mind that Y/N was in danger.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

“And so when we woke up, we searched for you everywhere,” Chan’s voice cracked as he spoke, his chest tightening with the weight of the memories. “Through the forest, the waterfall, everywhere we could think of, but your scent was so faint. The rogues—” he stopped, his breath shaky. “The rogues didn’t have any scent. We searched all day, non-stop, until we had no choice but to come back. The betas and omegas were freaking out. We were exhausted and starving.”

Chan’s eyes welled up with tears, his voice breaking. “I never stopped looking for you, Y/N. You have to believe me. I never gave up. I thought about you every second, every day... and I couldn’t stop searching for you.”

Y/N’s eyes glowed golden, a flash of anger and hurt in her gaze. She could feel the heat rising in her chest, the pain she had carried all this time surfacing. She had thought they weren’t looking for her, that they had abandoned her. The rogues had filled her head with lies, convincing her that no one was coming for her. But now, hearing Chan’s words, everything she had believed was shattering.

“So… so they set you guys up?” Y/N sniffled, her voice trembling as she looked up at the alpha sitting across from her. Chan was slouched on the couch, his sweatpants and black vest a stark contrast to the vulnerability in his eyes.

“Yes,” Chan said softly, his voice low with suppressed anger. “They did. And they had been planning on taking you.” He clenched his fists, the memory of the betrayal still raw. “When I found them—” he stopped, the words heavy on his tongue.

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat. “You... you killed them?” She gasped, her eyes widening with a mix of relief and awe. For a moment, she felt lighter, like a weight had been lifted from her chest.

“Yes.” Chan nodded grimly. “After you came back and... after seeing what they had done to you, I couldn’t let them live. I tracked them down with Mark and the hyungs. We found their den, and we killed them.” He exhaled sharply, the memory of the violence still fresh in his mind. “I couldn’t let them walk away after what they did to you... not after what they did to us.”

Y/N wrapped her arms around herself, her shoulders trembling as the tears began to fall. The enormity of what Chan had done for her hit her like a ton of bricks. He had gone through so much, fought so hard—for her. She felt an overwhelming sense of guilt flood her heart. She had been so focused on her own pain, on her own suffering, that she hadn’t once thought about what he had gone through. What he had endured.

“Channie, I’m so sorry.” Her voice was a whisper, the words barely leaving her lips as she looked up at him, her eyes filled with regret.

Chan’s gaze softened. His hands trembled as he reached out toward her, but he hesitated, unsure if she would want him to touch her. “Please... don’t apologize,” he murmured, his voice strained. “Never apologize. It’s not your fault.”

Y/N shook her head, her tears falling faster. “No, I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I was awful to you. I thought you didn’t care. I thought you gave up on finding me, and... I just... I was in so much pain. I still am. I’m angry at the world, Channie. But I hope you can forgive me for everything.” Her voice cracked with emotion, and she looked down, unable to meet his eyes.

“I don’t need you to forgive me,” Chan said softly, his voice full of warmth and understanding. “I understand, my love. I know you were in a state... a state no one should have to endure. I don’t blame you. Not at all. I should’ve been there for you, even when you pushed me away. I should’ve stayed by your side.” His voice trembled as he spoke, and his eyes darkened with the guilt of not being able to protect her. “I just... I can’t see you in pain anymore. I want to help you heal.”

Y/N’s heart ached as she reached her hand out toward him. Chan looked at her, surprised, but then slowly he took her hand in his. The moment their fingers touched, it was like electricity running through their veins. They were connected—alpha and omega—and this simple act of holding hands was enough to send a wave of relief through both of them.

“I don’t think you need to apologize either, Channie,” Y/N said, her voice more stable now, though still laced with sadness. “I think we both went through mentally and physically draining situations. I just... I can’t help but ask the Moon Goddess why. But I know she will have answers. I want to move forward. I want to put this behind us.” She paused, her chest tightening with emotion as she struggled to speak through her sobs. “I want to be a part of the pack again. I want to be normal.”

Chan pulled her into his arms, wrapping his strong arms around her as he held her close. He hoped she would let him, he hoped she would feel the comfort in his embrace. “I understand, my love. I ask the Moon Goddess every day why... but all I want is for you to heal. To feel better. I don’t want you to rush into anything, though. It gets overwhelming, but I’m right here. I promise.” He kissed her temple gently, letting the warmth of his affection seep into her.

Y/N buried her face in his chest, tears soaking into his shirt. “I’m sorry about losing the pup, Channie.” She choked on her sobs, her words trembling with grief. “I tried to protect her. I tried to shield her from it all, but they just... they kept going.”

Chan’s heart shattered hearing her cry like this. He gently cupped both sides of her face, his thumbs brushing away her tears. His voice was firm and full of love. “Baby, I will never blame you for that. Do you hear me? Never. It was not your fault. I know it hurts, but I pray you’ll understand that.”

Y/N’s heart was breaking, but she nodded, pressing closer to him. “I just... I just know it’ll be heavy to get past. I don’t think I’ll love another pup the way I loved her. She was our first…” She trailed off, her voice lost in the depth of her sorrow.

Chan held her tighter, his heart aching for her. “Time will heal us, my love. Everything will get better. I promise. We’ll get through this together.”

Y/N wiped the tears from his face as she pulled back slightly, her scent calming, though still tinged with sadness. She gave him a small, tender smile. “Thank you... for being here. For loving me through all of this.”

Chan smiled back, his eyes filled with devotion and hope for the future. “I’ll always be here, Y/N. No matter what.”

For the first time in what felt like forever, Chan finally felt like he could breathe again. After everything they’d been through, after the pain, the misunderstandings, and the distance—he had finally reconnected with his luna. They had talked it all out, and in that moment, something inside him shifted. The weight he’d carried for so long—worry, guilt, fear—began to lift. He no longer feared that she might hate him, or that the rift between them would be impossible to mend.

He could finally sleep tonight, he thought, with peace in his heart.

His hand moved gently to trace circles on her arm, the motion soothing both of them. He didn’t know how long they’d been lying there, but it felt like time had slowed, like nothing else existed in the world but the quiet warmth of her presence.

“I love you, Y/N,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. His heart pounded in his chest, the words carrying everything he hadn’t been able to say before.

Y/N turned to him, her eyes soft and full of tenderness, her expression mirroring his. “I love you too, my love.” Her voice was steady, but there was a catch in it—a vulnerability that made Chan’s chest tighten with affection.

And then, in that quiet, intimate space between them, Chan’s eyes welled up with tears.

All the anger, the frustration, the guilt, and the sadness that had consumed him for so long seemed to melt away in a single moment. With Y/N’s love, with her forgiveness, all the heavy emotions that had weighed down on him for so long evaporated.

She was back in his arms—officially—and nothing in the world could have felt more right.

Chan felt her warmth against him, her heartbeat steady and calm, and he realized with a deep breath that he would do whatever it took to help her grieve, to help her heal. He wasn’t going anywhere.

He wasn’t going to lose her again.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

A/N: i think its time to end this mini series guysss >_<

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[keitorin3]

Short: Leon (The Long Suffering)

Arthur: I'm gonna mess with this goofy eared kid.

Leon: *Internally thinking* Why do I feel like Arthur just met his match??

Arthur: He's absolutely terrible, the worst Manservant I've ever seen!

Leon: I'm sure with time he will improve, Sire. It's only been the first week.

Arthur: I've already sacked him, but then changed my mind and re-hired him back.

Leon: Ah... I see... Why?

Arthur:... *Internally thinking* Because I liked the way he looked at me when I won.

Arthur: It was difficult to find good help nowadays.

Leon: Right...

Arthur: Can you believe it, Merlin went and accused himself of being a sorcerer! In front of my father during the council meeting!

Leon: He what?! 😨

Arthur: I know! All because a girl gave him a flower. That idiot. I don't know where his head is at.

Leon: Hold on a second sire, he really said that in front of the King and didn't get executed?? 😧

Arthur: *Waves it off* Yeah, I had to explain that it was cause he had a crush on Gwen. *Mutters to himself* Maybe I should get him some flowers? 🤔

Leon: !? ⁉️❕❔

Arthur: My idiot Manservant got sick and I got him flowers so he'd feel better. 💐

Leon: Arthur, he drank poison for you and you went off to find the antidote. 😑

Arthur: So you think he liked it?

Leon: ... *Takes a deep breath* I'm sure he did Sire.

Arthur: 😁 See! I take care of my servants~

Arthur: *Breaks into Leon's room*

Leon: *Jumps in fright* ⁉️

Arthur: I can't believe him!

Leon: What is it? Is there an attack Sire? Something happened with the King?

Arthur: No! It's that insolent brat Merlin. He came back with some guy, singing him praises and wants me to make him a knight?!😤

Leon: *Thinking* Is this really worth barging into my chambers? 😮‍💨

Leon: Really, then what did you do? 😑

Arthur: Ha, had the guy cleaning the stables.

Leon: 🤦🏼‍♂️

Leon: *Watches as Arthur sits with goofy smile and practically hearts in his eyes*

Leon: Sire?

Arthur: Isn't it the loveliest day to go out for a picnic? 🥰

Leon: Yes Sire, it is indeed.

Arthur: *Nods* I had Merlin pack a picnic for me and the lady Sofia. Where gonna go later today.

Leon: *Confused and concerned* But don't you have a meeting with the King today?

Arthur: *Waves it off* It's fine, I have Merlin to cover for me!

Leon: *Thinking* Oh boy...

[LATER]

Merlin: *Coming back from the stocks* I'm gonna kill that cabbagehead! 😠💢

Arthur: *Walks in* Merlin~! 🥰💐🌈

Merlin: 🌩️🔪😠

Leon: *Makes a break for it*

Leon: *Walks by Morgana's room*

Morgana: Please Arthur he just a boy and he's sick! 🥺

Arthur: I'm sorry Morgana, but my father is looking for him and if he were to find out you harboured a druid, you'll not only get into trouble but so would Gwen and Merlin.

Morgana: *Angry* 😠

Merlin: *Steps in* Please Arthur, we can't let the King kill him. 🥺

Arthur: ... *Turns away* I saw nothing, heard nothing. I've got to look for the Druid boy because clearly he isn't here. *Leaves room without noticing Leon*

Morgana: Tsk, of course he'd listen to Merlin.

Gwen: *Giggles*

Merlin: Arthur has a good heart. Of course he'd help. *The face of loyalty and innocence*

Morgana: 😏 He followed his heart alright. I'll remember next time to have you around to convince him for some things.

Merlin: 🤨❔❔ What do you mean?

Leon: *Overhears and follows his princes lead and continues like nothing happened*

Leon: *Witnessed Merlin doing Sorcery, trying to burn the Black Knight and fails*

Leon: ... I saw nothing. Just tired eyes. Yup, nothing here. *Mutters* Not like Arthur would believe it, or even care.

Uther: Where is my son and ward?! 😠

Leon: They've decided on a friendly hunting trip, they'll be gone for several days.

Leon: *Internally* They went after Merlin to his home village to fight bandits alone. And I'm not gonna say anything because

1. You'll blame Merlin and send him away

2. Merlin's a sorcerer who you'll kill if you knew

3. If any of the above happens Arthur might likely kill you and that'll be a worse headache then his pinning.

Uther: Those brats!

Leon: *Thinking* I couldn't agree more.

[LATER]

Arthur: If I ever retire from royalty, I think I'd like to live as a farmer.

Leon: Ah, is that so?

Arthur: Yup. Of course, Merlin would be there to do the work.

Leon: 😓

Arthur: But I'll get him Cows and chickens, maybe even a horse. He has a soft spot for animals.

Arthur: Merlin's mad at me. He started talking politely to me Leon! Politely. As in using my titles instead of insults. Even avoids looking at me in the eyes. 😟

Leon: 😬 Oof, what did you do?

Arthur: He's angry at me after killing the Unicorn. 😟

Leon: ... That would do it.

Arthur: What do I do Leon!

Leon: Try giving him some space for now and maybe flowers, you've said Merlin likes those.

Arthur: Alright!

[LATER]

Arthur: Merlin's not avoiding me anymore. 😊

Leon: Great to hear, what happened?

Arthur: We faced off the sorcerer of the Unicorns and I drank fake poison before Merlin could.

Leon: ... What?! 😱

Arthur: It's fine. Merlin's still mad about that but now he insults me about my intellect being the size of a peanut. ☺️🌈✨

Leon: I'm almost inclined to agree with him Sire.

Leon: *Spots Merlin and follows him to the Isles*

Nimueh: For a life to be saved, another life must be forfeited.

Merlin: He's my friend. I'd gladly give my life for him.

Leon: *Thinking* God these two are cut by the same cloth. I'm gonna go fully grey by 30.

[LATER]

Arthur: 🥰 Merlin said the most weirdest thing. He said he'd serve me for the rest of his life. That he was happy to be with me. ❤️🥰

Leon: *Bore witness to Merlins power and dedication to his loved ones*

Leon: He cares for you Sire. Would hardly leave your side if he didn't need to help Gaius make your cure.

Arthur: ☺️ Don't tell Merlin this, but I think Merlin's my best friend.

Leon: *Internally swears on his honor as a knight to support Merlin however he could and potentially get his prince to be less of an idiot. Hopefully*

Merlin: *Sneezes*

Gaius: You alright my boy?

Merlin: *Sniffs and shurgs* I'm alright.

Gaius: Hmm, some say that when you sneezing abruptly, it's because someone is talking about you at the moment.

Merlin: Ugh, probably Arthur talking about all the chores he has in stored for me. 😮‍💨

[justallmyfantasies]

actin’ like a silly little boy

i wished we never fucked, and i mean that.

series masterlist

contains: 18+ smut! (unprotected piv), angst. bit boring sorry.

word count: 3.2k (lowkey thought it was more lolol!!!)

no it wasn’t normal nor was it real.

you guys had fucked, more times than you’d like to admit. going his house, you fucked, going your house, you fucked, meeting up together, you fucked. it was wild.

each time you met, it was like a dance. a subtle game of push and pull, a dance between desire and restraint. alex knew how to tease, how to build that aching need within you until you were begging for release. and yet, even in those moments of pleasure, he always seemed to hold back a part of himself, tantalizingly out of reach.

the secrecy added to the thrill, the discreet meetings in hotel rooms or secluded spots a delicious secret between you and alex. the rest of the world might know and love him, after all he was apart of a band but this side of him was just for you.

but as much as the sex was intense, you found yourself craving something more than just physical pleasure. there was a connection between you, a bond that went beyond the physical.

yet, alex seemed content to keep things the way they were, avoiding the topic of labels or emotions. he was always quick to distract you, to shift the focus back to the physical when you broached the subject.

“don’t look at me like that.” alex said, his words coming out more harsher than it should’ve. “we agreed this whole thing was just.. casual?” he paced around your bedroom. the wait for your response making him more nervous than usual.

you scoffed. “yeah, i know that.” you sat on your bed. you ran your fingers through your hair, getting stuck in the knots that had been brushed hours ago. “do you really think this is casual?” you said, emphasising the ‘this’.

alex's footsteps slowed to a stop, his gaze flicking to you for a moment before looking away. he was quiet for a moment before he spoke. "yeah, i do. don't make it into something it's not."

his response made you flinch. your heart ached at his words, but you tried to keep your expression neutral. "and if i do?"

alex let out a sigh, running a hand through his hair. "then it complicates things."

"what is there to complicate?" you asked, your voice growing sharp.

alex leaned back against the wall, folding his arms across his chest. "our friendship, you know that!" he said, you could feel the tension in the air growing thicker with each word he spoke.

you laughed, the sound bitter and without humour. "friendship." you echoed, the word sounding bitter on your tongue. "is that what you call this, then?" you motioned between the two of you. "because it doesn't feel like friendship to me."

"we've been going on this for a year now and you still refuse to call it what it is." you continued, your voice growing more frustrated. "it's like you want all the benefits of being in a relationship without actually having to commit to anything. it's not fair."

alex pushed off the wall, his shoulders slumped. he sat on the bed beside you. the distance between you felt like a chasm. "i'm just not ready for a relationship, okay? i have a lot going on with the band and all..." he tried to explain

but you weren't having any of it. you crossed your arms, your patience worn thin. "and what about me? what about what i want?"

alex looked down at his hands, avoiding your gaze. "you knew what this was when we started. i never promised you anything more." he said, his voice quieter now, lacking the usual certainty.

you stood up, moving away from the bed, your frustration boiling over. "yeah, i knew what i was getting into. but i also thought that after all this time, you'd wake up and realise what you're missing. that you'd want more from me."

alex stayed silent, his expression a mix of frustration and guilt. you could see the internal battle playing out in his mind. he never could resist you when you were upset, but his resolve was firm. "i can't give you what you want, and i can't ask you to wait around until I can."

your heart felt like it was breaking. you knew that this conversation would come eventually, but it didn't make it any easier to hear. "so what do you expect me to do, then?" you asked, your voice wavering.

alex looked up at you, a mixture of pain and indecision in his eyes. "i don't know..." he admitted quietly. "i guess... i guess we just keep going as we are for now. i don't wanna lose you, i just..." he trailed off, searching for the right words.

your eyes hardened, your expression icy. "no, i’m not doing this." you said bluntly. "i’m not staying around like your little secret thing."

alex's face fell at your words. he stood up, taking a step towards you. "you're not just a secret thing to me, you know that." he said, his voice filled with a mixture of pleading and defensiveness.

you scoff, crossing your arms. "could have fooled me. you won't even call this what it really is." your words cut deep, and you could see the sting landing in alex's eyes. "i want you to leave.” you looked at him. your face not showing any expression. you didn’t have one to show, not right now. you walked over to the door of your apartment, opening it and looking up to him once more.

alex's expression was a mixture of surprise, hurt, and anger. for a moment, he simply stood there, trying to process your words. but finally, he nodded, reluctantly moving towards the door.

as he passed you on his way out, you heard him murmur your name, a hint of desperation in his voice. but you didn't turn around, didn't give in to the urge to call out to him.

the door closed behind him, leaving you alone in your apartment. a mix of emotions swirled inside you: anger, hurt, sadness, disappointment.

you sunk down onto your bed, burying your face in your hands. the silence felt deafening. you were sad, but not to the point of tears. why would you cry over a man? it was pathetic.

you tried to convince yourself that you had done the right thing, that you had to stand up for yourself. but as the night grew darker, a part of you wondered if you’d just made a huge mistake.

maybe you had hoped, deep down, that alex would fight for you. that he’d realise what he was losing and come back, begging for a second chance. but he didn’t. and that stung.

as the days turned into weeks, the pain of alex's absence started to fade into a dull ache.

you tried to keep yourself busy, focusing on your work, spending time with friends, and throwing yourself into hobbies. it wasn't always easy, and there were moments when you found yourself missing him fiercely.

but you were determined not to let yourself fall back into the same cycle. you had made your choice, and it was time to stand by it.

and so you pushed on, trying to forget about the what-ifs and the memories that haunted you. but there were moments when you caught yourself wondering if alex was thinking about you too. if he regretted losing you, if he ever regretted not choosing you. or if he was just moving on as well.

one night, as you tried to sleep, a knock on the door suddenly pulled you from your thoughts. you sat up in bed, confusion and curiosity mixing in your tired mind. peering through the peephole, your heart nearly stopped when you saw who was on the other side.

opening the door, you found alex standing on your doorstep. his face was a mask of uncertainty, his hair a mess like he’d been running his hands through it many times.

for a moment, neither of you spoke. you stared at each other, caught in a charged silence. you could see the emotions brewing in his eyes, the things he wanted to say but was holding back.

finally, alex broke the silence. his voice was rough and shaky, betraying his nerves. “can i come in?”

you didn’t respond at first, caught off guard by his sudden appearance. but eventually, you stepped aside, silently beckoning him in.

alex entered your apartment, looking around as if seeing it for the first time. you closed the door behind him, crossing your arms over your chest.

he turned to face you, his eyes searching yours for any sign of how you were feeling. but you kept your expression neutral, unwilling to show him any vulnerability.

“i know you probably don’t want to see me.” he began, fiddling with a loose thread on his jacket. “and i get it if you don’t want to talk, but i just... i had to come. i had to see you.”

the sincerity in his voice tugged at a part of you, a part that still longed for him. but you kept your guard up, refusing to let your emotions show on your face.

he took a step towards you. filling the empty gap between you both. his hands now placed on your cheeks as he leaned in to kiss you.

you initially intended to resist, to reject his advances. but the instant his lips met yours, all the resolve you had built crumbled away.

your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer as you kissed him back. the pent-up yearning for him flooded back, taking over your mind and body.

alex pressed you against the wall, his hands roaming over your body. his touch was both familiar and new at the same time, leaving a trail of heat everywhere he touched. he deepened the kiss, his tongue moving against yours in a way that made your knees weak.

you melted into the kiss, the anger and hurt you had felt moments before fading away. all you knew was the taste of his lips and the heat of his body against yours.

alex's hands moved under your shirt, his touch on your bare skin making you shiver. his fingers traced the curves of your body, igniting the aching desire you had tried so hard to ignore.

you pulled at the hem of his shirt, desperate to feel his skin against yours. alex helped you undress him as his lips moved down your neck, teasing and tasting each inch of your skin.

he lifted you up, your legs wrapped around his waist as he carried you towards the bedroom. his hands supported you under your thighs, his grip firm and possessive.

he laid you down on the bed, his body covering yours as he continued his kisses down your body. his hands roamed over your curves, every touch and caress sending waves of pleasure through you.

you arched into him, your fingers tangling in his hair as you gasped out his name. the memories of all the times you’d been intimate played in your mind, making you crave him even more.

he lifted your shirt over your head, his eyes taking in your bare skin in the dim light. you reached for him, your fingers tracing the muscles of his chest, feeling the pulse of his heart under your touch.

alex leaned down, his lips meeting yours again in a passionate kiss. his hands continued their exploration, moving over your skin leaving a trail of fire in their wake.

the room was filled with the sounds of your breaths mingling and soft moans escaping your lips. alex moved down body, kissing and nipping at your sensitive spots, his hands roaming to the hem of your pants.

he looked up at you, his eyes darkened with desire. “i need you,” he murmured against your skin. “i need you so bad.”

your body quivered at his words, a mixture of pleasure and yearning coursing through you. you nodded, your voice barely above a whisper. “i need you too.”

alex wasted no time in removing the rest of yours and his own clothes, his gaze never leaving you. he leaned over you, his body pressed against yours as he captured your lips in another deep kiss.

you pulled him closer, the feel of his skin against yours making you dizzy with want. his hands continued to roam over your body, igniting a fire inside you that was impossible to quench.

alex’s mouth moved down to your neck, whispering words of desire and need between kisses. his body moved against yours, seeking more friction, more closeness.

the room was filled with the sounds of your mingled breaths and whispered words of need. alex lifted your hips, positioning himself between your legs, his body pressing into yours as he entered you.

he looked down at you, his eyes filled with a mix of tenderness and need. “i’ve missed this,” he murmured against your ear. “missed you.”

your heart felt like it would burst at his words, the pain and anger you had felt before suddenly feeling like a thousand light years away.

you wrapped your arms around him, pulling him down for another kiss. your body arching into him, needing him closer, more intimately. alex’s hands held your hips, his grip firm as he began to move against you, creating a rhythm that left you breathless.

his mouth moved to your neck, his tongue and teeth grazing your skin as he left a trail of kisses down your collarbone. each touch, each movement, sent bolts of pleasure coursing through you.

you clutched at his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin as ecstasy built inside you. each gasp and moan that escaped you was met with words of need and longing from him.

his pace quickened, the intensity between you growing unbearable. you could feel him everywhere, his body surrounding you, his scent filling your lungs, his whispers in your ear driving you to the edge.

alex’s grip on your hips tightened, his own breath growing ragged against your skin. “look at me,” he whispered, “look at me when you let go.”

his words, the tone of his voice, sent a shiver down your spine. you looked up at him, finding his eyes locked on yours, filled with both need and vulnerability.

you could feel yourself nearing the brink, the sensations building to a point where you couldn’t hold back anymore. his name escaped your lips like a prayer, the sound coming out somewhere between a gasp and a moan.

as you let go, the world around you dissolved. the only thing that seemed to matter was him and the way you were feeling. your fingers dug into his skin, your body arching into his, your name a desperate gasp on his lips.

alex followed you over the edge, his body shuddering against yours as he mumbled your name like a mantra. a single word repeated over and over again, like it was the only thing he could remember in that moment.

you lay there, tangled in each other's arms as your breaths gradually slowed down, the room still filled with the warm, comfortable silence.

alex pulled you closer, holding you against his chest as if afraid you would slip away from him again. his chin rested on top of your head, his fingers lightly tracing patterns on your back.

you both fell asleep a while after.

the morning came, the sunlight streaming through your curtains. you woke up to find yourself still wrapped in alex’s arms, a sense of peace and contentment settling over you.

you both started to stir, stretching and yawning as the memories of the night before came flooding back. neither of you spoke at first, silently enjoying the contentment of the moment.

alex was the first to break the silence. “you’re awake.” his voice was rough, filled with a hint of sleep and something else – tenderness.

you nodded, shifting slightly to look up at him. he looked back at you, his eyes soft and searching. he gently brushed a strand of hair away from your face, his touch lingering on your cheek.

he exhaled deeply, as if he was gathering courage to say something. “i need to talk to you. there’s something i need to tell you.”

your pulse quickened, the words bringing back a hint of anxiety and uncertainty. you untangled yourself from him, sitting up against the headboard.

“what is it?” you asked, your voice steady though the nerves were starting to bubble in your stomach.

alex sat up beside you, his hands clasped together in his lap. he was quiet for a moment, a look of inner turmoil in his eyes. finally, he spoke, his voice betraying the tension he felt.

“after.. after the album is released, we’ll be going on tour.” he paused, looking at you as if gauging your reaction. “i just thought i’d tell you.”

the news wasn't surprising, and yet, a mix of emotions washed over you. excitement, because you knew how hard he'd worked for this. but also, a nagging dread, knowing that this would mean another long period without him.

“how long?” you asked, your voice quiet. alex took a deep breath, bracing himself for your reaction. only answer he could come up with was a shrug.

obviously you were proud of him, he and the band had worked hard on this. you knew that.

he ran a hand through his hair, his fingers scratching his scalp in a nervous habit. “i wish i knew,” he admitted, his eyes searching your face for any sign of your thoughts. “few months.”

the news hit you like a punch to the gut. a few months. you'd barely had him back for a day and now he would be gone, again, for months.

you tried to push down the growing anger and frustration, to be understanding and supportive. but a part of you couldn’t help the wave of anxiety that washed over you.

“i know it's not what you want to hear,” alex said slowly, his tone cautious now. he was aware of your feelings, reading you like an open book. “this is our dream. me and the lads. y’know?”

you swallowed hard, trying to keep your expression neutral. “i know,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. it was the truth. you did know that. you did understand how important this was for them. but it didn’t make the reality any less harsh.

alex reached for your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours. his touch was a mix of comfort and reassurance, but it didn’t completely still the turmoil inside you.

he looked at you, his eyes seeking yours. “i’ll try and get you to come with.” he pleaded, his voice tinted with desperation, “how about that?”

a tiny flicker of hope flared in your chest at his words, but you quickly quelled it. the logical part of you knew the reality of it.

“no.” you shook your head. “don’t bother, i’ll be fine here.”

there wasn’t any point to get your hopes up. he wasn’t the relationship kind of person. you knew that.

a/n: hi back again!! i was in like a depressive stage and kept writing depressing stuff… those are like scraped now (should stay like that too). but that’s why i wasn’t posting anything. but here we are. idk if this is any good but appreciate it. okay thanks bye.

[monstrousproductions]

One of my favourite things about SFF is the way it lets you take an issue or an idea, and separate it out so you can look at it more closely in isolation. I think I remember Diana Wynne Jones saying something along those lines - that genre fiction gives you enough distance between the idea and yourself so you can walk around it and see it from all angles.

That's one of the things I've really enjoyed about Travelling Light so far. The archive entries are, by necessity, short and limited in scope. We can't summarise the entirety of a culture and all its iterations in a 10 minute audio log! But we can peel off one idea and give ourselves some space to walk around it and ask questions about it.

Like, in Episode 27 where we see the people protesting their landlords in Nimidol. To me, that wasn't an episode that said, "Our world would be better if we lived like this."

It was more a way of inviting further thought and consideration. What would our world look like if we lived like this? What does it mean to use shame to change people's behaviours? What does private landlording look like in this fictional space, and how do you feel about it?

I like as well that the questions some episodes might raise for one listener might not be the same as for another. Some people really resonated with the people in Episode 13 who used explicit legal contracts to navigate social interactions because in the real world, it really sucks to be caught out by unspoken rules nobody's ever explained.

But there's also something to be explored there about trusting people to keep to the social contract, and how their vibes-based government can do its work - and, more broadly, what do we think the work of government actually is.

I don't know, I'm just having a lot of fun with that! It's one of the really nice things about have such a short episode length - we literally don't have time to get into the nitty gritty of everything, which means there's loads more space for you all to bring your own ideas and interpretations. Which, as a show literally built around audience participation and co-creation, feels appropriate!

[thatshadowcomic]

tbh there's a scene thats so clear in my head, just gotta iron out the details:

Sonic is sent off to find Shadow, claiming he can talk to shadow and get this mess sorted out (were still in classic style btw).

At the cave:

Maria lay sick in a makeshift bed, hidden in a dark cavern with a hole at the top, moss hanging down. There was some kind of battle, after Eggman attack Knothole, and Shadow/Gerlad/Maria were spotted, assumed to be in cahoots with Eggman. Sonic doesn't think they would have done something so brutal and this its a misunderstanding. He wants to hear Shadow's side, but all he finds is maria, laying sick, pale and seemingly in a coma. Maybe he find shadow by her bedside instead? Shadow spin dashes him/tries to chase him off, but sonic warns him that maria needs the royal's help. that she's seriously sick. Shadow wants nothing to do with them, convinced they'll jail them both for their relation to Eggman and Gerald. By this point, Gerald's been captured and will likely be sentenced to treason/death.

"You might not want my help, shadow... but she needs it..."

"I was created to help her, just go away!"

"I'm your friend, shadow, Im not going anywhere."

"I didnt have friends before, I don;t need them now...!"

"Well sucks for you, doesn't it--"

Maria tenses up, likely in pain, stopping them from fighting. Shadow moves to help heal her, but his powers are depleted after whatever fight went on, so he struggles to help as Maria slowly fades away. He begins to tear up, desperately pushing himself, but he doesn't have any energy left. I feel like she'd apologize, maybe this is where the promise scene occurs?

"Shadow..." He looks up, surprised she's awake again,

"I'm sorry I broke my promise...I couldn't support you like I said..." She smiles.

Obviously he could care less, telling her it's okay, "But Please promise me Shadow... promise to protect this planet for me... That you'll appreciate everything it has to offer..."

"M...Maria?" The moment of clarity makes shadow's stomach drop.

"Shadow, you gotta let me take her!"

"Promise me... you'll bring hope to all of Mobius..."

As her eyes close, Shadow panics and breaths heavy, like right before you start to cry kinda breathing. "Sonic...!" He abruptly turns, desperately crying out,

"if youre really my friend-- p-please! Please help her...!"

Sonic doesn't argue with him about joining, instead quietly nodding and taking maria back to the castle.

At the castle:

Sonic brings maria and tries to convince Sally's father, who's shocked,

"Are you insane?! That monster will already be desperate and full of rage when he realizes we captured his creator! Why would you bring her here?!"

"He's gonna be pretty desperate and angry if anything happens to 'er too!"

Sally joins and says something like "He trusts Sonic, maybe this is a perfect time to establish a line of trust with us, get him on our side before Eggman gets to him!"

The king reluctantly agrees, having her taken back. He decides to give Shadow space for now and formulate a plan, avoiding pressuring him... or so he tells Sonic and Sally.

That night, at the cave:

Shadow lays in the makeshift bed, noting the dried blood. He curls up in a ball, tense, all alone for the first time. He has to trust sonic... Sonic knows he wouldn't hurt people...right? He hears a sound and thinks sonic finally returned, but it's guards, who used sonic's communication device to track where sonic went. He tries to escape, but his powers are too low to warp away and they over power him. He tries to explain he never hurt anyone, that he was trying to help. The scene ends with Shadow Crying out for Maria, for help. Sonic would return after a day or two, not finding Shadow, no matter where he looked... He would have assumed Shadow went back into hiding considering Eggman seemed to know nothing about him... In reality, the King couldn't kill him, so they held him up, deep under the castle with specially made shackles/capsule. They wouldn't connect for years... maybe 8 or 10?

I can't decide if he'd be awake or not, maybe partly awake? Like he wakes up years later, after they stop maintaining his capsule? Myabe once Chaos is defeated, that energy passes by him and he escapes? Myabe Eggman finds him like SA2?

Maybe after Perfect Chaos is defeated, all that energy passes through Shadow, reinvigorating/awakening him. I have such a clear visual of sonic and shadow meeting again as he rips the castle apart...

based on this:

[albinokittens300]

!Spoilers Under The Cut!

A/N: SO...been a minute since I wrote fic but. Made sense since I have ideas floating around might as well write and share them. Please note not only am I rusty writing in general, this is my first attempt at these characters. Be gentle on me please XD. I do hope you all enjoy. Let me know what you think, and maybe I'll try and get another one out maybe before Act 2 drops this weekend. All this ended up being was a little drabble of a possible reunion between Ekko and Jinx because I need some Timebomb goodness. Isha making an appearance is a bonus! Fair warning I make some wild leaps about what goes on during Act 2, so beware this is based some of my speculation.

He lets it go on for a few turns into different allies before finally stopping.

Ekko knows his little shadow is nothing more than a child, judging by the sound of the sets on the stone and the occasional clang of metal being kicked or tripped on. He usually wouldn't be worried- but with no one chasing after and taking her back to where she belonged, he took it as the sign it was. To follow him so far means she is all alone. Having just gotten back across the bridge, helping an orphan wasn't something on the list of deep concerns. At least, not until it needed to be.

"As quiet as you are, I have to say it'd be easier to get around if you weren't hiding." He says softly. Light brown eyes peek around the corner, playing at being undercover without actually doing so. She is hard to make out in low and greeish light, but he manages. "You can come out. Not gonna hurt you. All safe, I promise."

His hair raises, though, when her gaze flicks back to where he can't see. By all appearances, she is getting permission. So the girl isn't alone. When she takes a few steps out, he tries to remain unsuspicious.

"Whose behind there?" He asks as he kneels while she approaches.

"Definitely not who you're expecting." A darker, familiar voice speaks.

Jinx hasn't even revealed herself before the instinct takes over, and Ekko grabs the little girl and puts her behind him.

Attempting to pull her away from the known danger sets off another problem, though- the little girl reacts as if she has been burned. Letting out a cry, she wiggles away from him quickly before running back and wrapping herself around Jinx. While she removes the hood of her cloak, revealing a far too proud smirk, another arm wraps around the kid's shoulder. His eyes quickly scan her other side. A few bombs are latched there, but no pistol or any of her bigger toys. It was not a situation he loved, but it was preferable to facing down a minigun.

When Ekko's eyes return to the child, he doesn't think someone so small has ever looked at him so frightened. Something screams this isn't right as he watches for a few seconds.

"Relax, this one, I'll admit, has a reason to be a bit jumpy." She says, directing the words at the girl. Then, leveling a look at him. "What was it Vi said you had to say when the two of ya caught up? About looking good for a dead person?"

"That makes three of us, then." He says back. "Wanna explain what is going on down here, seeing as you are my welcoming party."

"Ah, nothing much. War, revolution, infighting, and unifying! All of that. If you are looking for the Firelights, they aren't at the tree. Or what's left of it." She says with a wave of her hand and a shrug. The blood runs like ice at the words and he rounds on her.

"What did you-"

"Woah, woah, I didn't do anything. Those wackos from Noxus? They are the ones who tracked the tree. My only part was helping everyone out." She hisses back. When his face changes, so does hers—relaxing just the slightest bit. Helped them out? Months trapped away should mean nothing surprise him. But it does.

He sees her arms crossed, watching and almost waiting for him to decide how this will go. Deciding to match her lack of hostility, just this once, he looks around to the eerily empty and quiet lanes.

"Guess I got a lot to catch up on."

That brings a less taunting smirk to her face. "Just a bit."

[hiro--aoki]

TWD X Tumblr Chapter Four: Disoriented

TW: Somewhat suggested abuse, but its pretty plain of tw's today

A/n: I'm really sorry for how late this is, family shit, but it's here. It's also short, but that just means more chapters in season one

Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

"Disoriented."

The fire crackles in the middle of the circle of people, crickets chirping off in the distance.

Rick has Lori and Lily either side of him and Carl laying on his lap.

"I guess that comes closest." Rick continues, glancing around the group as rubs Carl's head.

"Disoriented. Fear, confusion; all those things but disoriented comes closest."

Thunder rolls in the distance as the group listens to his tired voice, explaining the journey he went through to find his family.

Dale sets down his mug of soup, "Words can be meagre things. Sometimes they fall short."

He glances around the group as well.

"I felt like I'd been ripped out of my life and put somewhere else." Rick continues, "For a while I thought I was trapped. Trapped in some coma dream. Something I might not wake up from ever."

Carl pulls himself closer to Rick, tilting his head back to look up at him.

There's a soft sparkle in his eyes, as he listens to his strong and brave dad.

"Mom said you died." He whispers softly.

He sounds like he's almost about to fall asleep, cuddled up with his family.

There's another momentary silence withing the group.

Lori opens her mouth to explain, but Rick interupts, his voice soft like silk.

"She had every reason to believe that...don't you ever doubt it."

Lori looks over at Shane, who's sitting with Delilah and Kayden snuggled up next to him. They lock eyes, almost communicating.

Finally, Lori speaks.

"When things started to get really bad, they told me at the hospital that they were going to medevac you and the other patients to Atlanta and it never happened."

"Probably for the best." Lily whispers.

"Yeah, probably for the best." Lori smiles down at her.

"And, I'm not surprised, after Atlanta fell." Rick adds.

Shane tosses a twig into the warmth of the fire.

A few "yeah"s are murmered around the group.

"And from the look of that hospital, it got overrun." "...yeah, looks don't decieve." Shane adds, "I barely got them out. You know?" 

He gestures to Lori, Carl and LIly then Kayden and Delilah.

Rick looks over at Shane, "I can't tell you how grateful I am to you, Shane. I can't begin to express it."

There's a sudden tension spike between the group.

"There go those words falling short again." Dale jokes, trying to lighten the mood.

Glenn moves from the fire, with his cup of soup, sitting down next to Delilah and Kayden, offering a sip of his soup to Delilah. She shakes her head at the offer.

Kayden's eyes stay on Carl. She wants to be cuddled up with him, but she can't interrupt his family moment.

"Paltry things." Dale adds, directed at the lack of ability to express oneself purely through words.

Lori grips Rick even tighter, going into deep thought about something.

Rick rubs her arm, soothing her, as he thinks she's still recovering form the shock of him coming back.

Someone steps up. Ed Peletier. Here comes some drama.

He throws a chopped log into the fire, making it bigger. The fire crackles loudly and Ed sits back down.

"Hey, Ed, you want to rethink that log?" Shane asks, his patience obviously barely existent for this man.

Ed just throws his head back and says, "It's cold, man."

The groups throws glances at each other, each one showing a different combination of emotions, ranging from annoyance to... yeah basically all annoyance.

"The cold don't change the rules, does it?" Shane says to Ed, waiting for him to get the hint, "Keep our fires low, just embers, so we can't be seen from a distance, right?"

Everyone hopes that Ed will just listen and take the log out. But their wishes go unanswered.

"I said it's cold." Ed hardens his voice, as if he could scare Shane into letting him rule the roost, "You should mind your own business for once."

Shane lets out a groan, before standing, deciding if he wants it done, Ed ain't gonna do it.

"Hey Ed." Shane mumbles as he passes Ed, giving him two pats on his shoulder as he stands next to him, "You sure you want to have this conversation, man?"

Ed looks up at Shane from his seat, thinking for a moment, weighing his options.

"Go on. Pull the damn thing out." He says after a few seconds.

Shane just stands there. He's not Ed's dog, he's not doing it for him.

"Go on!" Ed raises his voice.

Carol stands, laying her shawl on her chair next to Sophia, as she stands to take the log out.

Shane looks between Ed and the fire before pulling out the log, just so Carol doesn't have to and so he doesn't have to put up with Ed's 'Lead Cheerleader Complex'.

He tosses the burning log to the ground and stops out the flames on it.

Shane then crouches next to Carol and Sophia, "Hey, carol, Sophia, how are ya'll this evening?"

Sophia stays looking at the fire, silently, but Carol turns to Shane and answers him.

"Fine. We're just fine." "Okay." Shane says, obviously questioning her.

Ed glares the the three of them from across the fire.

"I'm sorry about the fire." Carol adds.

"No, no, no, no. No apology needed." Shane assures, "Ya'll have a good night, okay?"

They both nod and Carol whispers a "Thank you".

Shane stands again, before saying to Ed in particular, "I appreciate the cooperation." 

The underlying sarcasm can be noted in his tone.

Shane walks back to his spot on the ground, the group watching him move.

"Have you given any thought to Daryl Dixon? He won't be happy to hear his brother was left behind." Dale asks.

"I'll tell him."T-Dog declares, "I dropped the key. It's on me."

"I cuffed him. That makes it mine." Rick counters.

"Guys, it's not a competition." Delilah says, Glenn rubs his thumb over her knuckle, his other hand holfing his now empty mug.

"I don't mean to sound racist when I say this but it might sound better coming froma white guy." Glenn adds.

"...I did what I did. hell if I'm gonna hide from him." T-Dog says firmly.

"We could lie." Amy suggests.

"Or tell the truth." Andrea says, leaving no room for argument, "Merle was out of control. Something had to be done, or he would've gotten us killed."

Andrea turns to Lori, "Your husband did what was necessary. And if Merle got left behind, it is nobody's fault but Merle's."

"And that's what we tell Daryl?" Dale asks with concern, "I don't see a rational discussion to be had from that, do you?"

Andrea shakes her head.

"Word to the wise," Dale continues, "We're gonna have our hands full when he gets back from his hunt."

"I was scared and I ran." T-Dog starts, "I'm not ashamed of it." "We were all scared. We all ran. What's your point?" Andrea asks.

"I stopped long enough to chain that door. Staircase is narrow. Maybe half a dozen geeks can squeeze against it at any one time. It's not enough to break through that. Not that chain, not that padlock. My point: Dixon's alive."

Taglist:

@kookiekult @smutinlove @far-cry-from-finality @zomb-1-egutzz

@shadowybasementmiracle @vaniniweenie @sleep-queen

@frankcastleautism @hisdahlia @carlslvr @zzombiegirl

@lunarnightt @carlmipololo @herrera2k @txrasbae

@a-vampire-bat @coveofthesiren @deathswrld

[sparklingdemon]

grggrgrgrg i dont know where else to put this but i dont know how to explain but i hate when everyone coddles cody its like NOOOO! like yes they shouldnt suffer a horrible punishment but who are you to say what they did is nothing! or to just blatantly just put hate to charizard because shes holding them accountable for their actions! Just because cody is your blorbo does not make what they did right! you cannot forgive them because you are not the victim! sure you can forgive them for lying to you the entire time theyve known you but well to me that also brings up the question of. well what truth have they actually told me.

im not hating on anyone specifically or anything i promise its just like NOOOOO!! STOP!!! THEYRE NOT A LITTLE BABY WHO NEEDS TO BE PROTECTED FROM BIG EVIL CHARIZARD!!!!!

KILL!!!

(joke)

I believe cody needs to be looked at in a realistic light. like "hey cody that was fucked up. buuuut... well youre already in a prison of your own making so there isnt much more i can do. youre already paying for your actions."

Maybe thats just my thoughts i just always feel like a feral animal like this whenever everyone is comforting them

maybe that is how i feel about cody in general on a variety of fronts though they are my chew toy <3

FOR REAL IT'S GENUINELY SO CRAZY SEEING PPL JUST GOING "that's it?" AT THE FACT THAT CODY KNOWINGLY KILLED THE CHILDREN OF THEIR OWN CREATION. they did the thing that these players have literally threatened to kill EACH OTHER over. like, it's not just a one-off instance. there has been a RESOUNDING amount of support for cody in monochrome's inbox right now.

BUT that said, there ARE some people who are saying exactly what you have of, "i forgive you for lying and what you did was bad but you've already been punished for it" and even some people who do feel genuinely angry at them so it's not like EVERYONE is just blindly coddling cody. so that's good.

i'm trying my best to make it clear from a narrative perspective that what cody did was a Very Bad Thing and that charizard isn't just senselessly bullying cody over something that wasn't their fault. i know that was the false narrative that cody was fostering in peoples' heads for the past two years, so it's going to take a while for people to unlearn what cody misled them into believing and fully accept the gravity of cody's actions. charizard might be harsh but she is the voice of reason here to expose not just cody's true nature but also the hypocrisy of cody's players. it'll be fun to see more of her from now on.

[thevegandarkelf]

QOTU: Something Good

My first official installment in the 'Quarters of the Undead' AU created with @dixons-sunshine is here! We get to watch Vec and Scud's first meeting play out. Be prepared to become obsessed with them because I certainly am. Lydia Vector (Vec) belongs to me, Georgie Hawkins (Ginny, as Vec calls her) belongs to Krys. Banner and divider were also both made by her.

You can get to know Vec a little bit better here and Georgie here

This is my first time writing for Scud as well as my first time writing in third person in a long time, so please go easy on me.

CW for swearing, mention of medical procedures (she is a doctor, after all), a teeny tiny bit of sexual content if you squint really hard

Word count: 3.8k

@gothic-pumpkin you asked to be tagged in this <3

I'm not joking when I say I screamed into my pillow the other night because I love them so much these two make me absolutely feral I need to be put down or sedated or something

“I can’t believe this is happening,” Vec sighed, running a hand through her hair as she rested her elbows on the counter.

First, there was spilling hot coffee all over her fresh scrubs. Then, there was cutting her finger on a can of Monster, followed by dropping her keys in the toilet and burning her toast to a blackened crisp.

And that was all before even setting foot out the door.

While pulling up to a stoplight on her way to the hospital, her 2007 Toyota Corolla came to a halt, the dreaded sound of repeated clicks filling the car as she tried to start it again. A kind stranger stopped to give her a jump start, allowing her to make it to the auto shop just down the street, but not before she took a moment to white-knuckle the steering wheel and scream at the top of her lungs.

When it rains, it pours.

“Just what I thought. Dead battery,” a man behind the counter called out as he approached from the back. His name badge branded ‘manager’ swayed around his neck as he walked, creating a soft tapping sound as it clacked against the buttons of his shirt. “We can do it today, but it’s gonna be a while. We’re a bit backed up.” He reached under the counter into a drawer and pulled out an intake form. “You gonna wait around?”

“No, I’m heading to work,” Vec corrected, flipping her phone open to send a quick text to her best friend.

Vec: Car broke down on the road. Having the worst day :( Ginny: Oh no :( Ginny: Hoping something good comes out of this shitty day <3

That was Georgie, always whipping out her relentless optimism whenever the moment called for it.

“Your name?” the man asked.

“Lydia Vector. V-e-c-t-o-r.” She slipped her phone back into her pocket, grabbing a scrunchie and pulling her long black hair into a ponytail. “I prefer to go by Vec, though.”

“I’ll put both,” he said.

As she flattened and tied up her hair, a movement out of the corner of her peripheral caught her attention, and her eyes trailed over to one of the mechanics. He was tinkering with something, a welding gun in his hand and a bandana tied around his head to keep his soft brown hair from falling in his eyes.

And she was practically drooling after just one look at him.

“Hey,” she asked, nodding her head in the mechanic’s direction, “the cutie with the bandana. What’s his name?”

The man’s gaze followed her nod to his employee in the corner of the room. “That’s Josh,” he explained, the sound emanating from the depth of his chest a hybrid between a scoff and a chuckle, “he’s uh…he’s a bit of a wildcard.”

A small smile crept across Vec’s lips. She, too, had been granted the title of “wildcard,” both by her best friend & her family. She was already looking forward to meeting her match.

“We close at eight,” the manager interjected, clearing his throat before he continued, “if you can get here before then, you’ll have it back today.”

“Oh, that’s perfect. I’m supposed to be off at six. Might be a bit late, but I should be here before you close,” Vec assured, slipping her keys back into the pocket of her scrubs, “that’s the life of an ER doctor for you.” She gave the manager a grateful smile as she scooped a fresh can of Monster from her bag. “Thank you again. Today has been a nightmare.”

“Not a problem, ma’am,” he reassured, returning the grin, “we’ll call you when it’s done. I hope your day gets better.”

“Thank you. Me too.”

Before heading out the door, Vec looked back over her shoulder to steal one last glance at the handsome mechanic. Torn between wanting to give him her number on the spot and not wanting to be disrespectful and corner him at his workplace, she opted for the latter, hoping he would be there when she returned. Plus, she was already running behind. “Cutie with the bandana” Josh would have to wait.

Little did she know, she hadn’t been the only one stealing glances.

He’d taken notice of her the second she walked in the door. A little frazzled, hair disheveled from forgetting to brush it during the chaos of her morning, eyes tinged red from the stress cry she had in her car before coming inside. But he saw right past all of that.

It was almost angelic the way she ran her fingers through her hair, gathering it into a high ponytail. Her hair was so long that even then, it still reached far down her back. Though her eyes were tinted red, the ocean blue of her irises were the most stunning color he’d ever seen. The smile she gave the manager as she left, the way her scrubs hugged her body…the light thumping in his chest was beginning to pick up speed.

“Josh!” another mechanic called out, smacking him in the chest with the back of his hand. Though it stung, even that was barely able to pull him out of the clouds and back down to reality. “C’mon man, help me with this!”

“S-sorry,” Josh stuttered, subtly shaking his head and blinking rapidly a few times to further pull himself from his trance.

Over the course of her shift, Vec had forgotten all about her car and the shitty start she’d had to her day. She didn’t forget, though, about the cutie with the bandana. He’d been nestled in the back of her mind all day, creeping his way to the front at every few-and-far-between free moment she had. All Vec could do is hope he’d be there when she returned.

A nasty bout of gangrene and a couple of motorcycle accidents later, she was back in the staff locker room, eager to be home and in bed after being on her feet all day. Stepping out the bathroom stall, she felt her phone vibrate in her pocket, and it was only in that moment that it occurred to her what time it was and that it was, in fact, past closing time at the auto shop. She answered the phone with a sigh, repeatedly mentally kicking herself for letting time slip away from her like that.

“I’m so sorry, my shift ran over,” she apologized as she opened her locker, scrambling to grab her jacket and her bag.

“My wife’s an ER nurse, I get it. Don’t worry about it,” the manager said, “one of my guys offered to stay late so you could pick it up.”

Vec set her bag on the bench behind her, holding her phone between her shoulder and her cheek as she slipped her arms into her jacket sleeves. “I can’t ask any of you to do that.”

“You didn’t ask. He offered,” the man corrected. The jingling of keys filled her ear, followed by the ‘click’ of a door lock. “If you’re gonna be later than nine, try to call if you can and let him know.”

“Oh my God, thank you.” Her shoulders relaxed as she breathed a sigh of relief. “I’ll be there as quick as I can.”

The clock on her phone read 8:45pm. The auto shop was only about a mile up the road, she thought, she could easily make it. As she reached the front doors of the hospital, she sent another series of texts to Georgie.

Vec: Picking up my car Vec: If I don’t text you by 9:30, call me until I answer Ginny: Be safe <3

It had only just gotten dark, the streetlights coming on as she stepped out the automatic hospital doors. The road was still busy, as the streets of Atlanta often were, flooded with cars late into the night. Despite all the lights and amount of people outside, she still kept her wits about her as she walked.

She stood at only 5 foot 7, yet despite her average size, she had surprising combat skills, her Navy SEAL brothers having taught her everything they knew. She’d handled men bigger than her before, once breaking one’s nose, and other bones, after she caught him trying to spike her drink at a bar. Still, she found comfort in toying with her small blue canister of pepper spray and clenching her keys between her fingers.

The walk to the auto shop was brief, only around 15 minutes or so, nothing noteworthy aside from a group of college students stumbling their way toward downtown. A car drove past with their windows down, blasting a song that was one of Vec’s favorites from her high school years, and she caught herself softly singing along to the tune long after the car passed by, all the way to the front door of the tiny auto shop.

Removing her cap and scrunchie, she shook her hair out, fluffing it with her fingers and adjusting her glasses on her nose. Cupping a hand around her eyes and peering through the glass of the front door, she saw him propped on a stool behind the counter, flipping through some sort of book she couldn’t quite make out, that soft brown hair tied up out of his eyes.

The cutie with the bandana.

Josh had kept himself occupied by flipping through old comic books his boss kept in his office and crafting little sketches on a notepad as he eagerly awaited for her to return. The sketches were small but chaotic, the random words scribbled alongside them acting as triggers for him to remember important details later.

This cutie with the bandana was an auto mechanic by day and inventor by night.

She knocked softly on the glass, tapping it gently with her knuckle as to not spook him. Peeling his peepers away from his half-completed drawing, he nearly lit up when he saw it was her standing there on the sidewalk, giving him a small wave and a smile. He quickly shoved the notepad into his pocket and hopped off the stool, doing his best to keep his cool as he walked as to not appear too eager.

During those few seconds as he approached and opened the door, he was finally close enough for her to get a good look at his facial features. He had the cutest button nose, high cheekbones, and piercing eyes that were the most breathtaking shade of blue she’d ever seen. Vec had to clench her jaw and repeatedly swallow to keep herself from drooling.

Blue was her favorite color, it always had been. Now, she had yet another reason for it to be.

“Cutie with the bandana at your service,” he greeted with a smirk as he held the door open for her.

Blood rushed to her cheeks as she stepped inside, the chill of the evening Georgia air being cut off as he closed the door and the dread setting in at the realization that someone had told him about her earlier comments. “Oh God,” she groaned, rubbing between her eyebrows as embarrassment flooded her system at an overwhelming rate, “Jesus, I’m…God, I’m so sorry.” She sheepishly trailed behind him to the counter, keeping her gaze on her feet, practically stumbling over her words. “I, uh…I have a tendency to be very…forward. Christ, this is humiliating, I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be. You know what you want, and you go for it. I like that.” Biting the inside of her bottom lip, an anxious habit of hers, she peeled her cerulean eyes from the floor, this time locking them with his. The feeling in the pit of her stomach was more than just butterflies. “My name’s Josh. Friends call me Scud.”

“Like ‘stud’?” Vec asked, and he nodded, “interesting. How’d you get that?”

“Could ask the same about—“ he paused to glance down at the form, as if he didn’t study her name on that paper over and over again before she arrived— “‘Vec.”

“I believe I asked you first.” Her tone was playful, oozing with flirtation, and that sweet pink flush returned to her cheeks yet again. Scud was never particularly drawn to pink, but now, it was quickly becoming his favorite color.

“And I asked you second,” he teased. He pulled a pen from his pocket and removed the cap with his teeth, spitting it onto the counter next to him. “How’s that saying go? ‘Second is the best, first is the worst?’”

Scud was immediately kicking himself for his choice of words. In his attempt to flirt back, he’d just sounded like an asshole.

“Wow,” she scoffed with a smirk, slightly wide-eyed and drawing the sounds of her words for dramatic effect.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.” He was nearly stumbling over his words to apologize, desperate to correct himself. “Probably should’ve went with ‘ladies first’.”

“It’s a nickname I got in high school. Too many Lydias in my class. What about yours?”

“Mine too.”

“Too many Lydias in your class as well?” If he wanted to tease, she could too.

“Cute and funny. You’re quite a combo,” Scud complimented as he worked at filling in the blank spaces on her form.

Vec ran a hand over her cheeks, attempting to hide that she was already turning red again. She could dish the flirtation on all day. Taking it, though, was a different story.

“So how come you didn’t just go by Stud?” Her eyes widened and immediately dropped to the counter, practically bugging out of her skull, and her jaw was on the floor. It was as if the words left her mouth on their own accord.

He was clearly reciprocating the flirting, but there was still something that felt wrong about it. He was still working, after all. She’d often fallen victim to being flirted with at her workplace, so she was well acquainted with the discomfort that came with that. Fearing she was crossing boundaries, she apologized once again. “I’m so sorry, I don’t know what’s gotten into me.”

He found it endearing, flattering, and downright adorable, the way she couldn’t seem to stop herself from from being flirtatious, and Scud would’ve been lying if he said it didn’t help to boost his ego. A young woman comes in, and not only is she drop-dead gorgeous, but she was flirting with him? He was on cloud nine.

“Told you you don’t have to be sorry.” A sweet, boyish smile crossed his lips as their eyes locked again. He wanted to dive right into those crystal blue pools and never find his way back out. “So you like working as a nurse?”

She cocked an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”

“Your scrubs.” Scud gestured up and down her body with a nod, his gaze lingering on her curves for just a moment too long. Thankfully, not a moment long enough for her to notice.

A soft, amused chuckle trickled out from her half-smile, her eyes falling to the floor for half a second before meeting his again. Scud swallowed hard, his hand trailing to and holding his abdomen. The fluttering in his stomach was an unfamiliar sensation.

Was she making him nervous? He was a confident guy, albeit maybe a bit too confident at times. He wasn’t new to the world of women by any means and could often be a bit forward himself. He too knew what he wanted and would go for it. So what was with the butterflies?

“Oh no, not RN,” Vec replied, reaching into her pocket to pull out her badge, flexing her credentials, “MD.”

“Shit.” Scud’s stomach dropped, fearing his asinine assumption just ruined any chance he had with the beautiful doctor before him. “Fucking this up, aren’t I?”

She folded her arms across her chest and rolled her eyes, that sweet giggle traveling to his ears again. There was a glow radiating off of her. It was almost ethereal. “Now when did I say that?”

“So what kind of doctor are you?” Scud asked as he rotated the paper around to face her, tapping on the ‘signature’ line on the bottom with the tip of his pen.

“Trauma surgeon,” Vec explained as she dug around in her bag for her wallet, “emergency room. Bullet wounds, amputations, skin grafts, all that jazz.” Successfully finding her wallet, she handed over her card, their fingers barely grazing past each other.

Though their touch was small, the electricity that sparked between them could’ve lit the entire city of Atlanta.

“Damn,” Scud replied, swallowing hard once again and using his hand that wasn’t tapping keys on the register to steady himself on the counter. That brief moment when their fingers touched turned his knees to jelly. “You’ve probably seen some stuff, huh?”

“You could say that.” Her knees had also turned to jelly, and the butterflies in her stomach amped up, having made a home in her stomach from the moment she walked in the door. She was just a little better at maintaining her composure.

Taking the pen off the counter and twirling it in her fingers, a phenomenal idea crossed her mind. She nodded to the empty space behind him as she signed off on the form. “You got a sticky note back there, Josh?”

His name sounded so sweet when it dripped off her lips like that.

Hoping this was going in the direction he thought, he pulled his notepad from his pocket, tearing one of the small pages out and sliding it across the counter to her. “Thank you.”

As he ran her card and printed the receipt, she etched out a series of numbers and some words before folding the sheet in half and holding it out to him. “What’s that?”

“My number. For if you’d like to…continue this conversation. And you’re not off the market.” She let her fingers linger on his for just a second before pulling away, taking her sweet time in doing so. The thumping in Scud’s chest was now ringing in his ears.

“Been on the market a while. Surprised someone like yourself is too.” Slipping the note into his jacket pocket, he slid the receipt across the counter to her. “Just need your John Hancock and you’re good to go.”

As she signed off on the paper, blood continued to flow to her cheeks despite her best efforts to prevent it. However, the embarrassment of turning pink only made it worse, and it didn’t help that Scud was taking notice. “You do that a lot, don’t you?”

“Do what a lot?” She hoped feigning ignorance might deter him from inquiring further, but when he motioned to his own cheeks with his finger, she knew it was to no avail. “Oh, yeah. Unfortunately, I do.”

“Well it’s cute, so keep it up.” Naturally, that only made the baby pink of her cheeks darken into a crimson red. Scud couldn’t help but allow his mind to wander and picture her with those flushed cheeks in a more…nefarious situation.

He took her receipt off the counter and chuckled under his breath at her signature as he placed it into the register and locked it. Doctor’s handwriting. “C’mon, car’s out back. I’ll walk you.”

She slowly, cautiously stepped around the side of the counter, ensuring to keep at least a few feet of distance between them. Sure, he was cute, and yes, she absolutely loved that he was reciprocating the flirting, but he was still a stranger. She kept one hand in her pocket, fiddling with her canister of pepper spray, the other free and at her side.

“I’m not gonna bite,” he promised, “don’t even have a bark you gotta worry about.” As she took a couple of small steps closer, he put his hands in the air, interlocking his fingers around the back of his neck. “Can keep them like this if it makes you feel better.”

She nodded, and keeping a hand on her pepper spray, she followed him down a tiny hallway, still making sure to keep a couple of feet between them. She had a good judge of character, it was one of her strongest skills, and her gut only had good things to say about this guy. Even then, especially as a woman, one could never be too cautious.

The bitter evening air greeted them as Scud opened the back door to the building, holding it open for her with his body. He kept his hands locked behind his head, only removing them once they were at her car to reach into his pocket and hand her her key. Their fingers brushed again, and this time, he kept his in place for a few moments, letting the electricity dance between them. She kept her eyes on them, watching him toy with the key resting in her hand, and the same soft, amused giggle from earlier emerged from her chest once more. His baby blues were locked on her, watching strands of her black-as-night hair fall into her eyes and using every fiber of his being to restrain himself from reaching out to brush them away.

“Well, it was lovely to meet you, Josh,” Vec practically cooed, her lashes fluttering softly as her eyes flicked back to meet his, “thank you for staying. And I, uh, hope to hear from you. Sooner rather than later.”

That adorable, boyish smile returned to his face. He pulled his jacket tighter around himself and folded his arms across his chest. “The pleasure was all mine. Now get home safe.”

“You too,” she replied.

Waltzing back toward the shop with a newfound pep in his step, Scud was far too eager to wait until he was back inside before tearing open the note she’d written for him. Her doctor handwriting was more legible here, and she’d clearly taken time to make sure it came out nice and pretty.

Vec 555-555-5555 Thanks for being my something good today :)

She tossed her bag in the passenger seat, removing her glasses for a moment and running her hands over her face. Exhaustion was beginning to set in, the weight of sleep heavy in her under-eyes, and her attempts to hold back her yawns were to no avail. As she buckled herself in and started her car, her phone vibrated in the cupholder. Normally, she wasn’t one to answer calls from unknown numbers, but her gut feeling told her exactly who to expect on the other end. And it was correct.

“You said soon. This soon enough?”

“I’d say so,” she chuckled as she slipped her glasses back onto her nose and adjusted them. She covered her mouth to stifle yet another yawn. “How about I text you in the morning? I gotta be up at 5.”

“I expect no later than 5:15,” he joked. The beaming smile on his face was evident in the tone of his voice.

“You have my word,” she promised. Vec always kept her word. It was worth more than gold to her.

After hanging up, she flipped to her messages to send one last text to Georgie before heading home, her cheeks already beginning to ache as her big, goofy grin somehow continued to grow larger.

Vec: So something good came out of this shitty day :)

QOTU taglist: @ripleyswife

General taglist: @raddydaddydude @lovenormandixon @angeldemoncrowley @negansbestie

Hit me up if you want to be added to/removed from the taglist(s)

[gothic-aesthetic-gal]

Old Scars (Part 1)

Ledger!joker x reader

Fem!reader is kidnapped by the joker and his henchmen while just trying to get a moment's reprieve from her boring, soul-destroying job ✨️

Tw: I mean, we all saw TDK, right? I'd say this is on the same level/rating. Kidnapping, violence, mentions of minor characters (not J) being misogynist/threatening SA, reference to past traumatic injury. Beyond this i'm not sure, i'll update these when I write more.

🃏🃏🃏🃏🃏🃏🃏🃏🃏🃏🃏🃏🃏🃏

I stared despairingly at the huge stack of paperwork my line manager had just slapped down on my desk. I sighed and bit the inside of my cheek. None of my male co-workers had to deal with her extra work. This was such bullshit.

"Ah, you are a life saver, (y/n). What would I do without you?"

Her own work, probably, I thought to myself, sighing in exasperation as she left me to my souless cubicle.

By the time i'd finished up, it was getting cold out. After taking a detour to try and stave off the inevitable return to my shitty apartment, I found myself in front of a particularly expensive shop. My feet were aching from the heels my backwards regional manager insisted on the female admin staff wearing and my head hurt from the tight bun my hair was scraped into. His smirk was etched into my brain, as were his vile words on his latest visit.

"You're a very attractive young lady, even with your face like that. Your body makes up for it."

I felt pure rage rising up again at the memory. It was the way he's said it as though he truly believed it was a compliment. The laughter of my coworkers rang in my ears. To them it was all a big joke and I was just too uptight to appreciate it.

What I wouldn't give to see the area manager humbled one day... but that was pure fantasy and I knew it. I wondered what he'd buy with his overinflated christmas bonus this time, while we were all given a meeting to explain why they couldn't justify a minor pay rise to ease the cost of living crisis in Gotham.

The twinkling lights of the high end window displays were a beautiful contrast to the bleary grey outside, and after another hellish day in the purgatory which was the cubicle farm, my heart warmed a little. Everything in the store was definitely well out of my meagre price range, but the inner child in me was drawn in to look at all the pretty evening dresses and jewellery. I shrugged to myself, figuring there's never any harm in window-shopping and a little indulgent fantasy. Even if I could afford any of the opulent dresses, half of them were really ball gowns, and what events was I ever invited to where you'd need a dress like that? No, those sort of parties were for Gotham's social elite - charity fundraisers, galas and that sort of thing, no doubt.

I was half expecting a staff member to immediately spot me in my regular civilian garb and herd me back out of the door like a stray dog but they seemed to be dealing with a particularly difficult customer at the tills. She was waving her arms around and pulling a "do you know who my husband is?".

I stifled a laugh at the image of her, in her ridiculous fur coat shouting frantically and looking like she was about to give herself a anyeurism, if the prominent vein on her forehead was anything to go by. I turned away from her soap operatics and back to the rails of clothes in front of me. I gently touched the fabrics, marvelling at the softness of the richest velvet. Gazing at cool silk like rippling water; nothing like the cheap imitation the rest of us were accustomed to. I got drawn into my own little world imagining who might wear each dress and for what occasion.

"Can I help you with something?"

The voice pulled out the rug on my little escape instantly. I felt anxiety rising in my chest but resolved not to panic completely.

"Oh, I was just browsing..." I said, faking the best dismissive tone I could.

"You're sure, I'd be more than happy to help. Do you want to try anything?" She pressed, a friendly tone rather than the suspicion I had anticipated.

Perhaps my work suit was giving a higher-end impression than I had realised... or maybe she was new here.

"This one is particularly lovely, don't you think?" She gestured to the garment I unknowingly had a hand on, pausing as she'd approached. She wasn't wrong, it was a rich purple, ridiculous really, with layers and layers of tule skirting, but somehow the fine cut and quality of the fabric, and the detailing made it look classy rather than like something out of 'my big fat gypsy wedding'.

When was I ever going to get the chance to try on a literal ball gown? I decided to play into it, after all, I could always say I needed to go away and review my options. They couldn't make me buy it.

"It is lovely," I murmured.

"Do you want to try it on?"

"If it isn't too much trouble..."

Before I knew it, I was being whisked into a dressing room. The shop girl came whirling in with the dress and began unfastening it for me.

"Shoe size?" She asked briskly.

I hurriedly blurted out my answer and she dashed back onto the floor.

I kicked off my uncomfortable work heels and removed my blazer, skirt and scarf. Somehow I felt even more like an imposter standing there in just my undergarments and a pair of tights. I hurriedly pulled the dress up and held it in place. Before I knew it, she'd returned and began fastening me up at the back.

I gasped, both from the air being pushed out of my lungs as she cinched the hidden corsetry, and in awe at what I saw in the mirror. I had never had particularly wonderful self-image, but since the accident, I'd really shrunk into the background. I had always been shy, but i'd become a total wallflower these days. I hated the public-facing parts of my job - if it was telephone or email correspondence, people couldn't react in their myriad shitty ways to my facial scarring, but sometimes I was on front desk duty. Those were the worst days for me.

She made a minor adjustment to my hair, pulling a few strands loose around my face. To my surprise, she hesitated as she saw my scars up close, but didn't recoil, or pull more hair out to try and hide them. Her delicate fingers lingered for a moment, hovering above where my eyebrow was split into three by the forks of red lightning which were still deeply scored into my skin. I had mostly made my peace with it, but it was other peoples' reactions to my face that caused me the most pain. The grimaces, the staring, looking startled, regarding me with pity, strangers asking me what happened, it could all just be too damn much some days. It was a rare a beautiful thing to have someone not react negatively in some way.

I knew I was lucky to still be in the land of the living, and that I was in remarkable shape considering what happened that day, but it had left an inescapable mark. I anxiously ran my fingers over my temple, over the metal plate holding my skull together somewhere beneath the skin. She pulled her own hand back away slowly.

"You look beautiful, miss," she smiled with a genuine warmth that made me begin to believe it. It seemed as though she could sense my sudden swell of insecurity.

The shop girl was young, couldn't be more than sevetneen or eighteen, and I prayed that she somehow retained her gentleness in a city as ugly as Gotham.

"Thank you," I said, tearing up a little.

The dress itself was surprisingly lightweight and not like some kind of Victorian horror complete with a hoop skirt. Instead, it looked quite modern, and had a lot of volume in the skirt due to the layers of tulle fabric, which meant that you could still dance with ease. I did a little twirl for good measure, watching how it flowed and moved around my form. The shop girl smiled at my childlike delight.

Unfortunately, my elation was shattered in an instant. A chorus of screams and panicked shouts, followed by a spray of gunfire hit us like a slap to the face. The shop girl's eyes widened in confusion and panic, and I grasped onto her arm to steady myself. We strained our ears, trying to make out what exactly was happening. My brain was struggling to make the jump from the moment I had just been experiencing to the very real danger we were now thrust into.

After a couple of agonising seconds, there was another round of shots, and I heard a gruff male voice shout;

"Everybody get down!"

"Try to stay calm," I whispered, my own voice shaking.

I herded us into the corner of the booth and desperately gestured for her to undo the corset, not wanting to have to run for my life in the stupid dress. I could hear crashing and footsteps, as though the place was being ransacked and bit the inside of my cheek as the girl shakily tried to loosen the cord for me.

"Check in the back, we don't want anyone calling the cops!" came a voice which sounded unsettlingly close by.

Suddenly, someone burst through the door into the dressing room. We froze, praying whoever it was, wouldn't round the corner, but sadly it was too late. The scraping metallic sound of the curtains of each booth being flung aside echoed around the room. I counted each one, feeling as though my heart had stopped beating altogether, sick with anticipation. They were going left to right, and would reach us soon enough.

The curtain to our booth was torn to the side, and an enormous man stood in the light. The shop girl let out a yelp of terror as she huddled behind me with her head in her hands.

"Found two hideaways!" He yelled out, lurching forward to grab at us.

In a blind panic, my body blocking him from the terrified girl behind me, I kicked and struck out like a feral street cat stuck in a trap.

"Quit struggling you stupid bitch," he spat, striking me across the face.

Dazed, and with my eye stinging already, I felt another pair of hands grasp me and hauled me out into the open and jammed the barrel of a gun into the small of my back.

"Stop causing trouble if you want to live," he hissed.

A third figure appeared and roughly forced the girl to her feet as well.

"This one looks so scared she might piss herself," he chuckled.

"Leave her the fuck alone," I muttered through gritted teeth.

"Ooo, you got a mouth on you, huh, rich girl?" Said the one holding me at gunpoint.

"Mm the boss ain't gonna like that, maybe we should gag her," one of his companions snorted.

"Nah, leave it. I wanna see what he does if she gives him any back talk," crowed the third one.

They marched us out onto the marble of the shop floor. Both shoes had come off the moment i'd started to struggle against our attackers and the tiling felt cold as ice beneath my unsteady feet. I saw that there were three other men holding up the cashiers and the handful of customers as they huddled together in one corner.

"Look what we found in the back," announced the biggest of the three men, shoving us forward.

It was only then that I noticed everyone's attention seemed to be drawn to one man, a man who I couldn't yet see, on account of him facing away from us as he nonchalantly rifled through the nearest rack of clothing.

He was a fairly tall man, perhaps a little over six feet, wearing a long coat. It was well in need of a wash, covered in dirt and ashy, yet still obviously purple in colour - though perhaps not the vibrant purple it once was. His hair could best be described as messy; a straggly mop of green waves, with his natural brown hair showing through at the roots and in patches. His body language was odd, the way he held himself, with his shoulders hunched, unsettled me.

As he turned around, to see what his henchmen had brought in, I felt a pang of total despair. I recognised his streaky painted face from a recent news broadcast, and I knew instantly that we were in deep trouble. This was the man they called 'the joker'. I could hear the poor shop girl sobbing behind me somewhere, barely hiding her sheer terror.

"Ah more guests for our little party," he exclaimed, his voice and intonation seeming as erratic as his physical movements.

"What you want us to do with them, boss?" Grunted the shorter goon to my left.

"Put them with the others," he gestured, stalking forward.

I turned to watch as he approached the shop girl, my heart in my throat.

"And who do we have here?" He asked, in a tone mimicking gentleness, which was even more unsettling than his usual, more sinister way of talking.

"S-sarah," she choked out between sobs.

"S-sarah? What's wrong s-sarah? Are you s-scared?" He cooed, practically circling her like a big cat.

I felt sick watching him toy with her, and anger began to rise in my chest. Sarah nodded defeatedly.

"Please don't hurt me," she whimpered, unable to look him in the eyes.

"Oh now why would you think we are gonna do that?" He exclaimed.

She didn't seem to know how to answer.

"Just do everything we ask, and some of you will live," he grinned patting her on the head, "put her with the rest," he gestured dramatically to the others in the corner.

His goons did as he asked and shifted her to where the others were cowering in the corner. I bit my tongue as his attention now shifted to me.

"My my, what a pretty dress, I love the colour," he purred, barely three strides away from me now.

I said nothing, hoping he would somehow just lose interest. There was still the largest goon stood beside me, pistol jammed into my lower spine so I didn't want to antagonise either of them.

He got close enough to reach out and touch me, pulling off one of his leather gloves with his teeth. The red painted smile, already smeared and smudged, left its mark on his finger tips with the clumsiness of his action. I was trying very hard to keep a steady breath, refusing to panic as I knew it would only worsen my situation.

"What's the matter? Are you shy?" He asked, that fake empathetic tone creeping in again.

"No, I just don't find that a hostage situation lends itself to free and easy conversation," I snapped back, unable to suppress my anger fully.

He tilted his head to the side, a glint in his dark brown eyes as they searched my face, scanning, analysing. In defiance, I stared right back.

In my struggle with his henchmen, my face had become half obscured by the hair which had come loose from my bun, and my hands being behind my back, I had not been able to move it out of the way.

Suddenly breaking his stillness, he reached inside his coat pocket and withdrew a knife. The switch blade swung open with a characteristic clack. I bit my tongue even harder to try and subdue my panic.

He reached out his ungloved hand to rougly grasp my face. Everything within me was screaming to struggle free, to run for the hills, but I was stuck. I'd be shot down before I made it two steps, I knew that.

"You are beautiful," he mused, " tell me, does this," he moved the knife barely an inch from my face, "does this, scare you?"

I grimaced, unable to stop myself from recoiling at his skin touching my own.

"Do you ever wonder what life is like for the ugly?" He asked, flatly.

Undeterred by my shrinking away from his touch, he roughly used his fingers to comb my fallen hair back away from my face. Once the curtain of hair was lifted, my scars were revealed, and his face took on a curious, unreadable riot of emotion for a split-second.

"What's the matter, am I not as beautiful as you thought?" I muttered sarcastically, wanting to pre-empt his inevitable mockery.

He clearly liked to pick people apart, to try and tap into their biggest fears, so it seemed a sure thing that he would have plenty to say about my face. This only made me all the more dumbfounded when he put away the knife and his grasp on my face melted into something altogether tender.

His fingertips gently brushed over the deep valleys of my old wounds as though he was trying to read my story. I felt him follow the fork from my hairline at my temple all the way down, bridging my eye, down my cheek to the point mid way along the lefthand side of my jaw where it ended. As he did so, I saw for the first time up close his own grisly scars which formed a sort of permanent smile. The makeup he applied over the top made it harder to see from afar just how extensive they were. I knew from my own experience that the wounds had been more than skin deep, into deep muscle tissue. You could tell by how raised and pitted they were.

The man holding me at gunpoint seemed not to have picked up on this sudden change of pace, as he had plenty to say, even if the joker didn't.

"I shoulda warned you, she's a butterface," he chuckled, "you should do the other side to match, I already made a start," he gestured to the split eyebrow and puffy eye he'd given me on my good side.

The joker's body language rapidly changed again. I felt him tense up, even in his fingers against my cheek. It was as though every fibre in his body was taught suddenly, like he was a rubber band about to snap. His eyes seemed to darken, his irises almost like black pools against the black paint encircling them. I was suddenly very afraid.

He looked down at my face with an air of detachement, his tongue flicking against the inner corner of his lip.

"Would you excuse me for a second, doll?" He grinned, before his smile dropped flat again the moment he straightened up to full height.

"Give me the gun," he comanded of his goon.

"But boss..." the burly man protested, before removing it from my back and reluctantly handing it over.

There was a deafening crack and the smell of gunpowder filled my nostrils as my ears rang. Some of the hostages cried out in fear and for a moment I thought he must have shot me. I stumbled on the stupid dress, falling to the floor with a crash, dazed, my ears still ringing as I rolled onto my side, preparing for my seemingly imminent death.

Unexpectedly, my vision began to clear and the ringing dimmed down enough that I could try to collect my thoughts. I became aware of another figure in front of me on the floor. Someone was roughly pulling me upwards, trying to get me back on my feet.

"Up you get!"

Suddenly, I managed to re-engage my muscles enough to stand, swaying on legs that felt like jelly.

"There you go, see? You're fine," came a low voice to my left, practically right into my ear. I blinked hard as I began to make sense of what had just happened.

The joker shifted so that he was stood in front of me again, and gripped a hand under my jaw so that he could look me in the face. He turned my somewhat vacant face this way and that, as though he was checking I was still in there.

"Whoops! Probably should've told you to stick your fingers in your ears," he wheezed with laughter, releasing my face and waving the gun around casually.

My lingering confusion was cleared up when I realised the other figure on the floor was his own man. The others looked on, some unfased, some clearly very uncomfortable at this sudden decision to remove him from the equation entirely. He had shot him point blank, I couldn't bring myself to believe that it was in reaction to his insults. Surely this was just some kind of mind game going far beyond my comprehension... I didn't feel reasurred, I definitely didn't feel flattered, if anything it just showed the true unpredictability of the psychopath in front of me.

"Right, now that minor... detour is over, I want you all to stay calm, while we execute out little plan," he comanded, gesturing to the hostages.

Two of his men forced grenades into peoples shaking hands, pulling the pins so that they were forced to hold on to them, or risk them detonating. They produced a roll of duct tape and wound it around each pair of hands, so there was no chance of them tossing the grenades away from the group either. The others continued to stuff duffle bags full with the cash from the registers, and the jewellery from the display cases. I cursed the slow response time of the GCPD, although there was never a gurantee that their arrival wouldn't cause more of a bloodbath, since so many of them liked to shoot first and ask questions later. They had far too lenient of a threshold for 'collateral damage'.

I was expecting to be forcibly handed my own grenade, but instead the joker gestured to me. The way in which he waved me over was completely antithetical to the situation unfolding around us; it was so casual, as though we were long-time friends. Not seeing another choice, I gingerly approached him, and he, losing patience, roughly grabbed me by the arm and yanked me closer to him.

"These lovely people can stay here, but, uh, you..." he lingered on the word looking me up and down, as he taped my hands together in front of my body, "you, are coming along for the ride".

"Why?!" Was all I managed to get out as he shoved me roughly toward the front of the store.

He laughed, sending a fresh chill down my spine.

"Well, we have an opening, consider yourself the newest member of our operation," he said in a congratulatory tone.

Before I could respond at all, my head reeling in total panic, I was being tugged out of the door with my arms feeling like they were going to pop out of the sockets.

[dtchloedecker]

Chloe smiled as Lucifer brushed his hand against hers. She didn't think that was intentional at first, but given that this was the second time he did it, she figured it had to be on purpose. It felt nice knowing he'd be watching her during her visit. She nodded at the CO at the door to the interrogation room and he opened the door. There sat Kinley in his holding cell a little too calmly for someone who got sentenced to life in prison. Like it didn't matter that he'd tried to manipulate her to kill Lucifer or had three people killed so Lucifer would show his devil face. "Thank you for coming," he said to Chloe when the door sat behind her. Just as soon as he started speaking, Chloe wanted to punt his stupid bald head across the parking lot. Instead, she kept her voice calm and even, but kept her disdain in there. "I only came to tell you to stop putting in requests to speak to me. We have nothing to talk about." NOW Kinley looked nervous, desperate even as he stood up. "I'm sorry," he said. "I don't have much time. They're going to transfer me back to Rome to be tried there."

Like I'm supposed to care? Out loud, Chloe let out a huff. "Can't say I'm sad to see you go," she said with disinterest as she slowly circled around the holding cell so she was standing directly in front of Kinley. "There is something you need to know," he said, but Chloe would hear it. "No, there is something YOU need to know," she said angrily. "You were WRONG about Lucifer. He is a GOOD man. One might say that he's even an angel." Biologically, Lucifer was still an Angel. Devil face or not, that didn't change. He wasn't perfect, but he was still good. Flawed, but good like any other human.

"I need to warn you about the prophecy," Kinley said as if he didn't hear a word Chloe just said. "Prophecy?" she shook her head at the old, bald priest. Was he going for an insanity plea or was he just bonkers? "You see, I thought that the prophecy was about you, Chloe," he explained. Chloe rolled her eyes and gave an exasperated look at the one-way mirror, which she knew Lucifer was watching from behind. She was done with this. She started making her way back to the door as Kinley droned on. "But, I realize now that I could've been wrong. If it's not you, who else could be Lucifer's first love?"

Chloe froze as she was about to knock on the door to be let out and then turned to face the old coot. Eve. Kinley definitely noticed her because it looked like a light bulb went off in his head. "You know who it is, don't you?" He asked in an eager and slightly creepy voice. He reminded her of a roly-ploy humanoid Gollum/Smeagle as he walked up to the bars of the cell where she was standing to be closer to her. "Is she here?" he asked. Chloe remained frozen. She didn't want to answer. She didn't care for Eve, but she wasn't going to throw the first woman under the bus.

After a few minutes, Kinley spoke again, drooping the Gollum/Smeagle vibe. "I just need you to hear the prophecy." Chloe had no idea how prophecies worked. Not in reality. She had no idea how all of this celestial stuff worked, but Lucifer did and he was here and he was her partner. Maybe he should hear the prophecy, too. "Alright," Chloe agreed reluctantly. And then Kinley spoke once more:

"When the devil walks the Earth and finds his first love, evil shall be released."

Chloe remained frozen. She had no idea how to respond or even feel. Was this about Eve encouraging Lucifer to embrace his devil more devilish side? No, that wasn't it. Lucifer couldn't just turn evil like that. Maybe it was something or someone else. But, what would Lucifer and Eve have to do with it? Was an apocalypse about to be triggered? Chloe felt very overwhelmed and then knocked on the door to get herself let out. "Detective Decker-," Kinley started to speak, but Chloe cut him off. "I got it," she answered as the door opened. She quickly stepped into the hallway and waited for the couple in question to come out of the observation room.

@lucifermorningstxr

Lucifer was doing everything in his power to demonstrate what he'd said in the garage to Chloe. While he never lied, he also knew the value of his actions, especially to the Detective. He could say things with the fullest honest intent of following through, but he was a man of swift action. He wanted to make it visibly clear to Chloe where he stood while not freezing Eve out completely, either. Again, he didn't hate Eve by any means, but they'd outgrown one another, and he wanted to really make sure things stayed on the up with the Detective. Even the car ride over to the jail was less awkward than it could've been, with the time being filled with the regalia of the partnership's past with Kinley. Leaving out the bit about the poisoning was the silently-agreed-upon best option too, as the pair had already put it past them and were trying to continue to do so with these jailbird meetings, but the detail was trivial vanity when the actual crimes at hand were accounted for. Lucifer even backed the Detective's comment about jail being his punishment, something that even yesterday he'd have let Eve convince him wasn't enough. This was how Earth's rules were. Who says old Devils can't learn new tricks after all?

As Chloe pulled him aside at the prison, he nodded in agreement to her instructions. "You're the boss, Detective!" He'd quip with a mischievous smirk before giving her his most sincere eyes. "I'm here to protect you. Forger the Devil on your shoulder, today I'm just backup. But I will come in if things go haywire. I know you well enough by now to pick up on your cues. Go on, Detective. I'll keep Eve behaved, go do your thing like only you can." He again brushed her hand, smiling with encouragement before stepping back to lead Eve into the observation room. He knew the stakes were high, but he also feared for the Detective being anywhere near that vile excuse for a man, even if this was a legitimate jail. So he'd do as she asked, but the second she needed him, he was ready to act.