#day 3: reunions | rain

[2tcs]

Day 3: reunions after a long time and rain

“Hay Bruce?” Duke asked as he walked out of the locker room. It was the end of his shift, thank god, so everyone was getting ready for the night shift.

“What's going on chum?”

“My cousin is coming to Gotham for a senior field trip thing next week to visit Gotham U and I was wondering if he and his friends can stay at the manor so they don’t have to pay for a hotel.”

“We’ll have to run a background check on them” “Already done!” Duke interrupted Bruce and jumped around him to get to the batcomputer to open up the files.

“Hmm. You really want your cousin to visit huh.” Bruce said as he scanned through the files.

“Ya. I haven’t seen him in ages and even though we text it’s not the same as an in-person visit. And Gotham isn’t safe for tourists so, manor.”

“Mhm, Duke?”

“Yes, Bruce?”

“Why are his and his friends' hometown labeled as unconfirmed?”

“Well, that may be one of the reasons I thought it would be a good idea for everyone to meet them? I know Tucker lives in Amity Park, Illinois. I’ve even visited him there when we were kids. But when I tried to look it up for the background check I couldn’t find it. It’s like it never existed. When I tried to ask him about it he kinda dodged my question and changed the subject. Like he was nervous about someone overhearing.”

“Alright. I’ll inform Tim about their hometown and see if he can find out what’s going on. Make sure you tell Alfried that we are having guests.”

“Thank you so much Bruce! I’ll go tell Alfried right now. Night!” Duke yelled as he ran to the elevator.

👻🦇👻🦇

“Tucker! Over here!” Duke yelled as Tucker and his friends got off the bus.

“Duke! It’s good to see you! How have you been?” Tucker said as he ran up to Duke and gave him a side hug while using his free hand to point. “This is Danny and Sam. Danny, Sam. This is my cousin Duke.”

“It’s nice to meet you guys. Tucker’s told me a lot about you two.” Duke said as he accepted handshakes from Sam then Danny.

“It’s nice to meet you too Duke. Hopefully, Tucker has told you only the worst of things about us.” Sam joked.

“Of course. Hay, did you really switch out all the frogs in your freshman biology class with robot frogs?”

“Don’t remind me. Those things were so creepy. They talked to you as you cut them open.” Danny said with a disgusted face.

“It was more humane than dissecting living animals.” Sam defended herself.

“Wait. The frogs were alive? Tucker! Why was your school using living frogs instead of cadaver frogs?” Duke asked in shock.

“I got no clue man. Anyways, do we need to call a cab to get to your place? Cause I’m not walking in this downpour.” Tucker said while looking around.

“Hold on right there Mr Foley. You all need to sign these forms so we can get ahold of you in case of an emergency.” Mr Lancer said as he walked up to the group with several papers. “And I would also like to speak to your guardian before my students leave so I know they are in safe hands.”

“Ahem. I’m afraid Master Wayne is occupied with work right now but I am his butler, Alfred Pennyworth and I am in charge of taking care of all the needs of the Wayne family and their guests. If need be here is the main phone number for the manor as well as the address. Is there anything else I can do to ensure you of your students’ safety?” Alfred said as he seemingly appeared out of thin air and handed Mr Lancer a business card with the aforementioned information written on the back.

“Thank you for this Mr Pennyworth. My name is Lenard Lancer. As the vice principal of Casper High School, I have a duty to the students of our school. So I will still need these three to fill out these forms before they leave.”

“Of course Mr Lancer. I fully understand. Now if you all would please finish with the paperwork, we can load into the car and get out of this dreadful weather.” Alfred said watching as Danny, Sam, and Tucker traded off on using each other's backs to fill out the forms and hand them back to Mr Lancer.

[dpxdc-familyweek]

Family Week Day 3

For Day 3 of Family Week, we're discussing the topics of Reunions after a long time and Rain.

How do family members interact after a long time apart? Do they still bring up old pains or try to smooth over them? Do they fall into old patterns and grooves like they never split at all?

Don't forget to tag your fic on tumblr with #dpxdcfamilyweek24 and submit it to the collection here on AO3!

[vaaaaaiolet]

Six years have gone by since 1998. Two since the death of your first (and only) love. So when the dead come knocking at your door after your life went to hell without warning, you have a tough time welcoming him back in. In Leon's defense, his hands were tied. You? You'd put your life almost unforgivably on hold after he blindsided you.

Maybe the only way to get you to listen is to tie yours.

STRICTLY MDNI!! f / m make-up sex after a reunion gone sour. ANGST GALORE. established relationship but it's Messy, plot spans pre-re2r to re4r, character study (scar tour!!), Foreplay: The Movie, good bdsm etiquette...leon doms PLS STAY WITH ME. light bondage + blindfold, The Chair™️, munch MARATHON, emotions (read: LEON) keep edging you before an extremely self-indulgent dicking down. consensual unsafe sex, PRAISE, lil bit of mean ft. leon's possessive streak + morning after <3

a/n: anon req gone wildly wrong. welcome back to ovulation week with vivi, THE MOST UNORIGINAL BITCH ON THE PLANET 😭 i read a fic about getting tied to a chair and discovered something about myself. now i’m convinced daydreaming about bondage w/ leon is how i passed finals. oops. pray i survive second sem y'all🧍

word count: 6.3k 🤡 // read on ao3

“The heart has its reasons which reason does not know.” - Blaise Pascal

Like any good breakup scene, it starts with rain. 

A torrential downpour. Poseidon’s wrath lashing down the panes of your living room windows. The terrific sound of it is only drowned out by the hum of your TV set, the one source of light in this dark room and you, a moth to flame, circle it, afraid of getting too close lest you burn. 

The President’s on tonight. His daughter’s back safe and sound, having been spirited away to Spain. The press release is overjoyed to report that one indomitable man brought her back in a matter of days. President Graham declares it with a triumphant fist: an American hero stands in front of us tonight, and the crowd erupts in cheers for the First Daughter’s savior, but honest to God, you couldn’t give a shit about his heroics.

Not when Leon’s right there. Suited and tied. 

Or as close to living, breathing Leon as you could hope to get.

You inch closer to the screen when the camera pans over a face you haven’t seen properly in six years.

Sandy hair two shades darker, baby fat bereft on now-chiseled cheeks. It’s easy to pick apart the pixels of the man’s profile when he’s staring at the audience. Heart knocking against your ribs, you can’t help reaching out and tracing the angle of his jaw, this uncelebrated member of the President’s security entourage on national television who’s unknowingly subbing in for your once-boyfriend. Long-term, long-distance lover, if you wanted to flatter yourself. 

It doesn’t matter now. It’s getting late and dreaming should be done in bed. You reach for the remote to turn the prerecorded program off, and the rain starts falling – no, knocking – exceptionally harder against your front door. Urgently, like it wants in. 

And then the rain calls out your name.

The floorboards creak under your feet when you go to investigate through the peephole. A powder blue eye stares back.

“Who is it?” you call out, voice shriller than you’d like.

“Open the door, please? I’ll explain inside. It’s freezing out here.”

“I don’t let strangers in, sorry. Who are you?”

The rain answers in a familiar timbre that sends shivers down your spine. “Trust me, just this once.”

The doorknob clatters in surprise at the twist of your wrist, and swings open to reveal the man from your TV set, now escaped and peering at you through dewy lashes the pixels had hidden. Your eyes flit across his features: it’s the very same jawline, black suit identical to the one on your screen. Exactly the man your brain had tried hushing your heart from recognizing.

Your hold on the doorknob trembles.

“Hi, sweetheart.” Leon offers you a ghost of a smile as the storm pelts down his shoulders. “May I come in?”

“You watch the news a lot?” he ventures after a few minutes.

“Huh?”

Once the initial shock of Leon’s appearance subsides, something acrid settles in your bones. The silence between you two stretches like taffy waiting to be pulled. It sticks in your throat without much coming out to abate it. What else can you do when the dead rejoin the world of the living?

Make light conversation. You can do that. 

“Leon, I thought you died.” Or not.

He shoots you a half-grin. “I wouldn’t die on you just like that, you know.”

“You practically did,” you retort, voice going thick. 

You find old habits hard to break. It’s nothing new. You’re perched on the armrest of your couch, a familiar penchant Leon had smiled at when he shut the front door behind him. His habit of shaking his hair dry like a puppy also hadn’t gone away, much to the traitorous delight of your heart. You’d almost giggled when he accidentally sprayed you with rainwater doing it. 

Now, you’re watching him fold his suit jacket over one of your kitchen chairs with his back turned to you, an odd bulge in its left pocket threatening to send the whole thing crashing to the floor at any moment. Other secrets hang in the air like ghosts. Leon’s tie sits drying on top of your radiator. You think you should tell him to peel off his soaked dress shirt, he might catch a cold otherwise, but are you allowed to say that anymore? 

Worse still, why do you want to?

“I saw you on the news. That’s why,” you reply a beat too late. “You told me in your last letter that you were going to work for the government. Something to do with the President, and ever since then I…I turn it on when something big happens.”

Leon stops fiddling with his jacket, turning to you with wide eyes. “That was-”

“Two years ago?” You swallow. “I know.”

The letters sit burning holes in a box under your bed, all stamped and postmarked with no return address since 1998. The last day you’d seen him alive and breathing. 

Leon was the boy you’d hold hands with under desks in high school, a high school sweetheart as textbook as they come. You’d ditched prom to wish on shooting stars in the back of his first car, let him be the first to slip off your spaghetti straps when kissing grew too chaste to convey the giddiness in your chest. 

Puppy love turned into something perennial. Real. He’d carried moving boxes up the stairs of your first apartment, and you right after. You’d watched him rise through the ranks of the Academy. Cheered front row at his graduation, let him spin you in your highest heels right in front of your parents. Blushed when he’d squeeze your hand tighter walking past the jeweler’s at the mall. 

And you’d soaked Leon’s chest with tears before he rushed off to Raccoon City that September night so long ago, steely resolve in his eyes and a promise on his lips to come right back after doing his sworn duty.

Leon never returned. His letters did, though. 

Envelopes from seemingly nowhere – blacked out epistolary updates you’d read on your bathroom floor that grew briefer as weeks spiraled into months. 

What you could piece together from what wasn’t censored under an increasingly watchful eye was that Leon was under a government contract, fighting tooth and nail in some kind of training program that couldn’t have been any run-of-the-mill police kind. Something he had as little agency over as the frequency of his letters, he’d promised you. He was going to come home one day. Just one more month of training, one more mission, one last test. 

Leon was furious in his final message when he found out about the deal with the White House. The censor didn’t go through as much as it should have; you’d never been more grateful for the oversight as you tilted the page to read his scribbles in the margins.

Then came a terrifying radio silence. 

You waited each month afterwards for the postman to stop by your mailbox. Waded through a snowstorm in January to make sure the post office had your new address when you moved in 2003, practically begged the lady at the counter to check if they’d mixed up your letters with anyone else’s in the meantime. Nothing. 

“Two years, Leon,” you grit out, digging your nails into the leather of your couch. The tail end of his name takes on an ugly shape in your mouth when you rise to your feet, “I waited two years not knowing if you were alive or not.”

No one had answers to his disappearance except for the one you’d endured ever since he left: move on. 

The way he holds his tongue now, too, sets sparks alight in your throat. “And you want to know what happened to me since then?”

“Tell me,” Leon says softly.

Your voice falters. 

A dead man walking would take the breath out of you in any case, but it does even more so now that Leon looks larger than life – no longer an afterimage on TV and coming over to where you stand. Even with his shirt sleeves plastered to them from the rain, Leon’s arms look used to heavy duty; there’s a broadness in his shoulders he didn’t have out of the Academy. 

His mouth pinches when he stops a tentative foot away from you. “Tell me,” he repeats, frowning at your averted gaze. 

He’s waiting for you to speak. So close you could touch him, blood pumping through his veins just like you’d once prayed for until your breath ran out.

And it pisses you off. 

He doesn’t get to have it this easy.

“No.” 

Confusion colors his exclamation. “No?”

“No.” You smile bitterly at the ground when he backs off an inch, raising your chin to look him in the eyes as your own start to sting. “You don’t get to be the good guy. You don’t get to come barrelling back into my life, how’d you know I live here anyway…”

“I found out as soon as I could, you don’t think I’ve been worried sick about you-”

“Not after you cut me off!” 

“It’s not that simple!”

Two years. 730 days. Your throat so hoarse from crying the night before that you’d called off work some mornings. 

“You know what I think, Leon? I bet you thought I’d wait on you forever.”

He blinks fast, taken aback. “I wouldn’t- I couldn’t do that to you.”

“So you’d have come back even if I didn’t?”

Didn’t. A flicker of something soft crosses his face. “Really?”

With your heart beating out of your chest, you cross your arms and spit out a haughty, “Of course not.”

Leon stares.

The resulting silence stretches half a minute.

It’s a tepid standoff at first, made worse by you searching his person up and down. You wrack your brain for his old tells: a jumping muscle in his jaw, a furrow of his brow. Angry, pink cheeks accompanied by a crestfallen pout. 

Nothing. He’s dead silent.

So you double down. 

“My friends told me to settle down, said it wasn’t safe living alone,” you sniff, rocking on the balls of your feet. “So unless you-mmf!”

Lips, crashing onto yours. Burning warm. Two seconds of affection before a tongue flicks brashly over the seam of your stunned mouth. Your brain in overdrive. Leon no longer a foot away but pressed so fiercely against you that your camisole starts going see-through from the water still saturating his shirt. 

Your hands feebly come up to his chest, not to push him off like you should, but to cling to his collar. Old habit.

Fuck. 

“You’ve gotten mean, sweetheart,” Leon grins razor sharp, whispering into the corner of your mouth. “It’s a good look on you.”

“I’m not…” God, he’s kissing the sense out of your head. Your lungs suck in his breaths like a failed attempt to go cold turkey.

“Sure you are, lying to me like that. Watching the news just in case I’m there.” 

Rough hands dig under your thighs. Hoist you up like you’re made of feathers.

“Only your shoes on the shoe rack. Heels I bought you.”

Your feet dangle in the air, your head’s not used to the drop in air pressure this high. You’re being lifted – where? 

“You think I’m that dense, baby?” 

The sound of wooden scraping scratches your ears as you register one of your kitchen chairs being dragged to the middle of the living room. You’re plopped unceremoniously down. 

And with your vision swimming, you notice Leon finally taking off his shirt. Unbuttoning it with fervor, throwing the fabric onto the floor so hard there’s a wet thwack!, and suddenly, he’s knelt at your feet, looking up at you with teeth chattering from the chill and a blizzard brewing in his eyes.

The raging storm outside nearly quiets for him to tell you, “We’re gonna do it this way.”

A cocktail of resentment and curiosity churns in your stomach. You stare daggers at the ceiling. Leon snatches his tie off the radiator and wraps it around his hand, checking if it’s dry by now. 

It is. Good. 

“Since you don’t want to look at me so badly,” he hisses, “you won’t need to look at me at all.” He unfurls the tie and lays it flat against his palm. “This is going over your eyes so I can actually get something inside your head. And you’re going to feel everything I say, okay?”

“I feel cold. You got my shirt wet,” you spit back.

“Then take it off,” Leon says smoothly.

How rude. Utterly uncouth. 

You’ve never flung off an article of clothing faster. You’ve got nothing to hide, you’re fucking better than to play meek to his games. Your bra barely hides how your nipples pebble in the frigid air, and Leon sucks in a breath at the sight. You’re wearing blue lace. His favorite.

His tone softens a fraction of a degree when he instructs, “You say ‘stop’ and it’s over. Tell me you understand.”

“I do.”

The silk wraps gentler around your eyes than you expect. The living room disappears into velvet, and your fingers twitch, itching to fly at your face and investigate the cause of this new pitch black.

“Hands down. I need them more than you do.” 

Leon’s voice ripples in the darkness. Oh God. That must be why people do this sort of thing. 

“Are you nervous?” he asks, almost in awe.

Fuckfuckfuck. He wasn’t supposed to tell this early. 

“...a little.”

Your hand gets lifted into the air, your index and middle fingers separated from the rest. Leon touches their tips to the hollow in the middle of his collarbone, and right here, you feel the flutter of life. Wingbeats matching the race of your own heart. 

So is he.

There’s movement, butterfly wings brushing against your cheek when he reaches up to press a kiss there. Your fingers fall away from the base of his throat and land on a raised patch just below his right shoulder. It’s…almost star-shaped. Rough. 

“You have a scar here,” you breathe. “How’d you-”

“Bullet wound, 1998. I want you to keep going.”

You could’ve dug your nails into it. Scratched off one more reminder of the day Leon left you in the dark. His tie leaves you blind, but you don’t need sight to feel the trust Leon still has in you as he invites your fingertips to his chest. You go gentle into the good night with his voice to guide you.

“Knife scar,” he whispers. Soft, like how you trace over the mark. 

Your fingertips shake over his ribs.

“Burns from saving a little girl. She had eyes like yours.”

The trek is arduous, nonlinear. The same injuries show up again and again, scattered across his body like fireworks. You think you’re fine, using one hand for the job and clutching the other to your heart so it won’t break, and then you slip, grab onto his shoulders for support, and your palms fall over the flat of his back.

Two symmetrical gashes spread across his shoulder blades – Icarus’ wings singed off.

“I’ve tried saving a lot over the years, sweetheart,” Leon goes quiet, a new grief clogging his flow of explanation. “Thought I could have it all at first, you and this job. I wrote you less, told myself you’d already moved on, but you’re right, I…I wanted to keep you.” You discover tears sound thick when he laughs. “I’ve lost so fucking much these six years and I don’t know why I can’t bring myself to lose you too.”

“The kids in high school,” trembles your own voice, “they said I’d run away with you, but you ended up running from me.” 

“When you’re all I have left?” Leon brings your palm to his cheek. “How could I?”

“But you did!” you sob, banging weak fists against his chest.

You remember the pity, the snide judgment. Declining invites and frustrating friends when you’d flake on blind dates set up to get you out of the house. Switching excuses every time somebody back home called and inevitably asked, So when are you and Leon going to visit? Warring against logic (of course he’s fucking dead) and the arrested development of your heart as you rolled dice on his return. Four years in a stupor of when, two of what now?

Spending all that time at odds with yourself and the world turned you into a real tough kid. A callous bitch. Eventually, you forced yourself to explore your options like a grown woman should. Tried your hand at anything legal to forget the sinking feeling in your chest. Had a phase where you’d wake up in a stranger’s bed only to go home and collapse, rereading Leon’s letters in the cardboard box under your own. If it was steel that marked his back like this, yours is streaked with flint.

And that’s exactly what you tell him. 

Immediately, his shoulders straighten. “So you’ve gone on a few dates.”

If he wanted to be polite about it, yes.

“Did they fuck you as good as I did?”

You splutter. A cold zephyr breezes over your breasts when Leon exhales. There’s a rattle of metal – his belt, you register faintly – and your eyes squeeze shut behind your blindfold when he rises from his kneel, leaving the space between your thighs empty. 

“That is one hell of a greeting after six years, sweetheart.” His chuckle is dark, delightful. “Hands behind your back.” 

“You’re not fucking arresting me right now, Leon, I don’t know what you’re playing at,” you squeak when he loops leather over your wrists. Annoyingly, they fit perfectly in his palm. “Have you lost your mind? You- I still can’t see!”

Leon’s hold goes still. “Is that a stop?”

You huff indignantly. 

He shakes your wrists. “I don’t mess with that shit. Do you want me to stop?”

“…no.”

“Good. Comfortable?”

Embarrassingly enough, the back of your kitchen chair isn’t half bad to have your arms around. Giving your newly bound hands a wriggle, you answer Leon with a quick nod, and he presses his lips to the back of your head in confirmation. He circles back between your thighs, a vulture in the dark. Your knees shove open courtesy of two calloused palms. 

“Lift your hips,” is your next instruction. And then, “These are coming off.” 

Your bottoms slide off in a fleeting caress down your legs. A cushion pushes between the surprised arch of your back and the chair’s straight one, leaving your bare, trembling- oh God. 

Oh God. He’s-

“You’re going to hold perfectly still and let me say hello to my favorite girl, sweetheart. Poor thing hasn’t gotten any attention since I’ve been spoiling you with all my talking.”

A kiss falls onto your clit. Your hips jerk up – oh shit! 

Leon seizes the opportunity to lick into your entrance before further coherent thought can form in your brain. 

He must’ve planned it, counting on your brainless reflexes to push your hips further into his scorching mouth. You get points for being brave, though: swallowing screams, pretending your thighs aren’t fighting to clamp around his head, attempting an escape to your happy place when really, this is it – this painstakingly sweet suction on your nerves.

He pops off with a wet smack! magnified by your blindfold. Slurs, “Missed this pussy so fuckin’ much,” dives back to trace figure eights around your clit with the tip of his tongue. 

You pretend the icy air is curling your toes for ego’s sake. Try and stave off morbid curiosity. “You…didn’t see anyone? All this time – hah!”

“Do you have any idea,” suck, “how many times I’ve come into my hand thinking of you?”

Your heavy head falls back with a wail.

“How many times I’ve fucked my fist to your name?”

“Leon!”

He pulls away at your keening cry, deaf to any begging to come back. “You just never know what’s good for you, baby. You don’t listen to your friends, you let me tie you up like this, fuck yourself on my face…” 

There’s rustling, and your living room bursts with color as a sharp tug untwists the knot of Leon's tie behind your head. You enter the world in tears all over again. 

“Pleasepleaseplease, I was so close-”

And when the darkness subsides, you’re free to lay eyes on the perpetrator. 

Leon.

Leon with his hair mussed to high heaven, pushed to his forehead by the greedy grind of your hips. Ocean eyes surveying you over a mouth flushed red with cheeks to match. A fallen angel at your feet, working his sinful tongue inside his mouth as he breathes.

Blood thumps through your veins. Your chest heaves. The chair is sticky, uncomfortable; entirely your fault. Your hands writhe behind your back as you struggle to sit up properly against the pillow and salvage some of your pride.

Leon’s gaze fixes on the floor. “I didn’t. Didn’t have time, didn’t want to. Whatever you want to call it.”

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, throat swelling with thorns, and he groans like you kicked him in the ribs.

He rises to his knees as you slump; reaches behind the chair to unbuckle your restraints, shaking his head. “Yeah, I should be. I put you through hell for six years. I came back from Spain expecting to introduce myself to your fiancé or something, you know? Should’ve brought flowers at least.”

A hot tear slides down your cheek. 

It was Leon. On the news. The President’s daughter, the rescue. 

The hero.

This is how you welcome a hero home?

Spying your arms wilted at your sides, Leon takes the opportunity to press his mouth to the plush of your inner thigh. This time, it’s a warming salve when he kisses into your skin, unlatching only to move an inch and repeat, sucking roses the shape of his mouth onto the softest parts of you.

He rasps into your slick flesh, “Just let me have this, and I promise I’ll go.”

And he noses his way back into your folds, quickly giving up on flowery notions to feast like a man starved. You’re lulled to sleep by the lap of his tongue before he starts working it with the prowess of a Swiss knife, soothing and scalding in turns as it digs into your now oversensitive cunt. The scrape of his 5 o’clock shadow on your inner thigh makes for a maddening mix.

It all sends you crumpling over his head with a cry. 

His hungry hand pays no mind, scrambling under the lace of your bra to knead at your tender breast, thumbing at your nipple. You pay back the favor, fisting chunks of his hair as your arousal drips down his chin, and Leon’s thanks arrive in the form of guttural whines you’d forgotten you could wrench from him. 

So goes Leon’s last meal. You’d be enjoying it too if your brain hadn’t finally caught onto what came out of his mouth before he turned it into a decoy.

I’ll go.

Good luck fighting the itch to interrupt. 

You yank hard, and he moans complaint through a mouthful of pussy. “It’s not gonna work,” he gasps when you wrench his face from between your thighs, demanding explanation. 

“So you’re just going to walk out on me again?” you snap through a haze of tears. “What about what I want?”

“You want this?” 

Leon shoves your hands deeper still, wincing when he purposely digs your nails into his scalp. 

“Pull. Make it hurt,” he swallows, voice cracking. “Tell me to get the hell out. Tell me you hate me for breaking your heart. Find someone who’s in your life enough to love you right, and let me set you free, sweetheart, please. I can’t take it.”    

By all means, you should take his offer. 

Pull out every damn strand of hair on his head. Give him a taste of his own medicine. Go on for God’s sake. What happened to drinking yourself to half to death, trying to water down the fear that Leon beat you to its doorstep?

Think about never having to wake up to the cold side of your bed again. Don’t think about how perfectly Leon’s cheek cradles into your thigh. How he lets you map the moles on his neck when you have trouble falling asleep.   

Finally having a shoulder to cry on, someone who sweeps you off your feet, inside jokes that confuse everyone but you two. Forget how Leon won your heart as a teenager doing exactly that. 

Getting called pet names that make you blush in front of your friends: baby, angel, darling, sweetheart. Don’t you dare imagine each one rolling off Leon’s tongue the first time he crowned you with them.

Do not, above all circumstances, remember that wrapped in your arms right now is the boy who, after saving the President’s daughter all by himself, ran back to you within hours of his return. Who’d waited for you in his own way.

Your hands drop to cup his cheeks. Wetness makes your thumbs slip when you brush them across — the rain had to have dried off long ago. And with eyes misting shut, you thread your fingers as tenderly as you can through Leon’s hair, and press a kiss to the top of his head. 

“You’re really doing this?” Leon’s whisper wavers a decibel above hope.

Hotel citrus stings your nose, and you wonder how long it’ll take to replace it with the scent of your shampoo. 

You’ve missed this. Missed him. 

“The clearance I have after this mission, it’s insane,” he’s twenty-one again at the touch of your lips, gushing in disbelief over his badge coming in the mail with you at the kitchen table, “I-I couldn’t believe I got them to let me go right after the press release. Alone! I can’t be home all the time but it won’t be like before, I can actually come back, and if you want me to-”

But unfortunately, the relentless throb between your legs forces you to school your expression into anything except elated at the unfolding prospects.

“Leon.”

His grin flashes white. “Yeah?”

“If you came back just to eat me out, I’ll kick you out for real.”

It must be fun, you gripe, thinking straight without soft breaths fanning embers between your legs like a sadistic bellows for the past ten minutes; ruining your cushion beyond hope of wash or repair. 

Leon lets out a barking laugh, head thrown back, and aghast, you bat at his chest. 

“Mean really is a good look on you. You don’t want to talk details?” he teases, pulling you in for a kiss that tastes like desire – like you.

“Not when you’re- you know-” you splutter, antsy.

“Oh, come on. Say it.”

“You used to be nice to me!” 

Sadly for you, you’ve kissed him giddy, and giddy turns him cocky real fast. 

“I’ll give you whatever you want if you tell me, angel. Four words.” He grins, tucking a hand between your thighs to interrupt your squirming and raising the other to count, “‘Leon. Please…’”

“Fuck me already!” you cry, and it’s three, but he sweeps you up in a blur of limbs anyway.

Bra strap falling off your shoulder. His mouth sealing onto yours. Pussy sobbing for attention over the crotch of his dress slacks. Leon groaning at the feeling of you soaking through fabric covering a held-off arousal so hard there’s no way it doesn’t hurt. His endurance training had come in handy, it seems.

There’s a blind fumbling in the dim light as he grits out a “Gladly,” and stumbles out of your living room in a mad rush, sacrificing his shoulder to several walls for the sake of kissing you breathless.

“Sweetheart, you’re shaking like Bambi. You sure you can make it?”

“Leon Scott Kennedy, if you don’t take me to bed right this second…” 

“And here I was trying to be nice. Bedroom?”

“On the right,” you pant, clawing his mouth back onto yours again. 

He follows through, no reconnaissance training needed to find the door you direct him towards with your foot. Either the heat’s better here, or it’s every cell in your body buzzing with anticipation when he flicks the nearest lamp to life. You pull him onto the bed with you, silk sheets caressing your bare skin as you scooch to make space for Leon to crawl up and over you. 

The sharp rasp of a fly zipping undone cuts through the air. He hisses in frustration, patting his pockets. “Shit, I don’t have a-” 

“Condom?”

“Yeah. You still keep them in your nightstand?”

You worry your bottom lip. “Not for a while, I haven’t, um, done anything in a bit, but I’m on the pill and I’m clean.” Please, please, don’t let this be a dealbreaker. “Is…that okay?”

“Holy shit.” Leon whooshes out a breath, grinning as he leans back on his knees. “You’re gonna be the death of me.”

It’s a go. Your stomach swoops with rollercoaster adrenaline.

He balls up his slacks, kicks off his sodden boxers (your chest puffs with pride as he tosses it to the floor), and parts your trembling legs painstakingly slow in comparison. Sharp eyes rove over the love bites littering your thighs, admiring his handiwork. You bite the inside of your cheek, devil on your shoulder itching you to tease, and let your hands skitter across over the juncture of your thighs where Leon’s focus lingers.

“Spread yourself for me, sweetheart,” he murmurs. 

You do. Let your fingers dip into your arousal, gasp at the cold air kissing your folds when you bloom for him. Roses all over your thighs when you’re his prettiest one. He leans down and kisses the bud at your center, sending the most pleasant electric tingle running up your spine. 

“You promised,” you whine, craning your neck to see his face framed between your thighs again. “Need you inside. Please.”

For once, Leon indulges you, but not without himself too. 

“Turn over for me. Oh, I know,” he coos at your pout and the upset buck of your hips, “give me a chance, angel. I’ve been dreaming of this for years. Planned out every fucking detail.”

You flip over with a huff. One broad palm lifts your pelvis into the air, easy as anything, and the other slips a pillow between your thighs, making sure the plump cotton nestles right up against your swollen clit. You give your hips a tentative grind and promptly gasp at the shot of pleasure. Friction at your command, leaving Leon free to run wild.

He tucks a stray lock of hair behind your ear. “Good?”

“Mhm...”

You face the headboard, stomach to the sheets and blood roaring in your ears. Blind again to what he has in store for you. Slick pumps sound from behind – Leon finally planning to make good on his word – and the head of his cock nudges at your weeping entrance, teasing the now-fraying nerves lining your slit, so close to where you need him that your breath audibly catches.

He waits. Pulls your strings taut –

Hisses, “I’m gonna fuck out every memory of anyone you’ve been with while I was gone.”

– and cuts them loose.

Your scream ricochets off the walls when he plunges in.

It shouldn’t be pretty. There’s nothing pretty about the haze of green that clouded Leon’s vision for a selfish second while yours was at his mercy not long ago. Your one-night stands translated to competition in his head. He’s only a man. But there’s something undeniably pretty about the divine arch of your back that has him spellbound when your cunt swallows him to the root in a single go, suffocatingly sweet.

“Goddamn, you’re tight!” 

Leon’s fingers sink into the fat of your hips as he fights for balance. You’ve got a mattress to claw; he’s only as stable as his pride. He lets you catch your breath after the first thrust, has your addled brain waxing poetic when you swear you feel his dick throb in time with his heartbeat inside you. 

It doesn’t help that he’s got a mouth on him. “Pussy sucking me in like she doesn’t want me to leave,” he gasps when you clench.

Your fingers curl proudly into your bedsheets. 

It’s a game of push and pull from here. Leon’s hips drag back, and with all the agony of too many nights with his right hand and your name for company, he starts carving into the meat of your ass. 

You make a strangled noise, and eventually improve to, “Oh, ohmy- ohmygod!”

He can’t keep his hands off you. They span your lower back, cup your breasts in turns, explore the drenched underside of the pillow you rut against in time with his thrusts. You’re handled with just enough precision to keep you speared on his dick, all so Leon can watch, gobsmacked, how your drooling pussy opens up for him. In-out, in-out. A scene out of his wet dreams.

Your cries syncopate with the slam of his thighs against yours, an embarrassing, pornstar-worthy, “Ah-ah, ah-ah!” that you’d have more shame over if you weren’t busy getting the brains fucked out of you. 

Leon realizes the beauty of the present tense with each inch of his length you coat in your arousal over and over again. 

“Look so pretty taking me like this, my perfect girl, doing so fucking good, look at you…” 

The pressure building in your stomach rears its head. Threatens to push you over.

“I missed you so much,” you sob into the sheets, “so fucking much, I can’t, I don’t know how to- oh!” 

“Won’t leave you ever again,” Leon pants, tilting your chin so he can see your pretty face. “Never- oh my God, you’re close, aren’t you?”

Call it intuition, instinct. If you were close before, Leon’s fingers rushing to your clit cement your theory; he’s never been wrong about it, even as a rookie.

Your hands scramble to claw at the back of his neck.  

“Fuck, you are!” he exclaims.

Home stretch. Leon’s hips threaten to stutter, so he sinks his teeth in your shoulder in a desperate bid to keep them steady. 

For you, the pain of it is primal, flavored with a need for connection that has you groping blindly to lace his fingers through yours. Instinct all over again. 

For Leon, it’s how you kept him going all this time; you’ll keep him grounded now. He’s not going to last otherwise. 

You listen, face planted to the bed. Wait for the last thread to snap, for Leon’s gasp at the final flutter of your cunt around him. Your orgasm doesn’t come in a babbling, sputtering, break of the sound barrier, no – it comes as a gentle push.

A trust fall off the edge with Leon right behind.

You see bright light. Nothing of the abyss you plunged into when he left. There’s a jerk behind your navel, and pleasure starts curling upwards from your stomach like the licking of a comfortable fire. Your ears pop from the ecstasy flowing through your veins and it’s almost as if you can hear its crackling embers right here, right now as Leon fits so perfectly inside you. 

In and out. In and out. In-out, in-out. You breathe, and he breaks. 

He spills into you warmer than sunshine. Molten gold, filling your cracks like kintsugi. The air admits, “I love you”, having trouble telling apart which of you said it first.

He’s got a week on his hands. A week of wonders stretches in front of you, seven whole days to figure out how this new arrangement will work. 

“It’s as much as they’d let me call off on such short notice, but we’ll take it from there,” Leon murmurs, kissing your shoulder.

He’s back in your arms where he belongs. Morning peeks through your blinds with the sun’s face washed clean from last night’s rainstorm, and if you open your window right about now, you could say hello to all the flowers blooming in celebration. 

You can get to that later. You’ve got more pressing matters on your hands, like taking headcount of the constellation of moles dotting Leon’s chest and introducing yourself to the new ones. You have a feeling you’ll learn them by heart real soon.

“We can figure it out together,” you hum, content with your head propped against the headboard. 

An exhilaratingly real concept. 

“Together.” Leon breathes lightly. “Yeah.”

“And you know, I think that’s more than enough time to buy me real flowers.”

He chokes back a not-so-subtle cough. “You’re still hung up on that?”

“If you want to make up for how I’ll have to wear pants and turtlenecks to work for the next week, yes,” you poke into his chest, fighting the smile tugging at your lips.

“But you hate flowers! You say they always die on you!”

“No girl actually hates flowers, Leon!”

“At least I didn’t show up empty-handed. Give me a sec, sweetheart, I almost forgot.”

Leon pecks your forehead, slipping out of bed to pad to the living room. He comes back, having fetched his now dry suit jacket with the curious bulge still threatening to spill out of its left pocket, and hands it to you like a cat would a dead bird at your doorstep.

You give the creased clothing an unimpressed stare.

“Look in the pocket,” he insists, climbing back under the comforter.

You pull out a half-melted pack of Ferrero Rocher.

“Okay, well, they weren’t supposed to do that and I think I left them by the radiator…”

He’s lucky they taste just as delicious melted. You’ll have to give him a lesson in gifting before the holidays roll around because he’ll be here to celebrate them for the first time in six years – a thought sweeter than the chocolate-flavored kisses you peck onto his cheek. 

And in between the shining candy wrappers and Leon’s blond hair tickling your neck when he presses you into the bed again, this time, you think everything gold might just stay. 

fun (and spicy) fact about chocolate, and psst, find more of my work here!

reblogs + comments are very much appreciated, they keep fics from dying out <3 take care and i love you!

divider by @/adornedwithlight

[azullumi]

”know it’s for the better” ; aventurine

summary — memories come in waves and tonight, he’s drowning; the grief of his past haunts him and visits him in his dreams; alternatively, you comfort and assure him after his nightmare.

pairing — aventurine (w/gender-neutral reader)

warning — 2.1 QUEST SPOILERS (about his past)

tags — established relationship, angst with comfort, soft and kind of insecure aventurine, mentions of alcohol (he just drinks a glass that’s all), there’s some fluff if you squint, lots of metaphors, mentions of death, mentions of depressing and negative thoughts, all told and narrated in aventurine’s POV, i never proofread, 2.1k words ; one-shot

tagging — @toorurs !! dedicating this to you

note — this is what reading his character analysis, character essays, scene and dialogue interpretations, and his whole ass lore and dissecting each one of it does to you. day 3 of writing for him.

“kakavasha.”

he opens his eyes to the sight of his planet: seemingly empty, barren, as nothingness continues to stretch towards the horizon. there was nothing on this land but  the stench of death and cruelty that lingers in the air—it was heavy, thick, as if the clouds were binding him down to the ground and forcing him to look at what once was. he could feel the ache in his chest, the feeling of familiarity starting to seep into gaps between his fingers, and the the lump starting to form in his throat.

he knew this place, the stones that surrounded him and the mountain that leered over him. he knew of this, was all too familiar with it—the sunken ground and disturbed dirt from when his sister knelt before him with tears in her eyes as she uttered her promise of reunion before she bid him her farewell (he’ll always carry her last words as if it was part of his existence). the memory plays in his mind all over again, the voice of his sister echoing:

“this is where we go our own way, kakavasha…”

“...this is a gift from gaiathra, and you are kakavasha, whose good fortune will bless your sister with success.”

“as long as you are alive, the blood of the avgin will never run dry. so run, kakavasha, do not be afraid, and do not look back…”

he could feel the rain starting to pour down on his form but he doesn’t run, he doesn’t move, he doesn’t seek for something that will shelter him from the cold. instead, he stands under the pouring rain with heavy shoulders and thoughts that seem to claw and scratch at him. no matter how much he tries to cover up and escape from his past, to run and run until his feet hurt, until he falls and crumbles to nothing, it will still haunt him. it chases after him; it hides in the corners of his room, behind the wallpapers, and amidst the settling dust and cobwebs, and it creeps up on tuesday mornings as he tries to revere the sun that once never shined on him. he’s always painfully reminded of the things that he has to carry—the weight of his sister who carries her parents, and who carries their parents.

“...the rain will accompany you, and the rain will bless you.”

the distant cries, screams, and roars all ring inside his ears but the sound of the rain breaking into smaller pieces as it falls to the ground that he walks on masks it all.

he feels so pathetic. the hatred that he has for himself continues to gather and manifest into his likeness to sing choruses of condemnation in the guise of shattered and broken praises that are shaped like knives, stabbing his guts and making blood spill from his lips (he doesn’t know what his mother looked like anymore yet he could remember the distinct smell and taste of iron as blood stains his skin).

“why are you all doing this…” he remembers what he answers to her sister before she walks off to her death. he remembers asking her as he covers his ears with his small hands—too weak and frail to even carry stones, much less move boulders. he remembers the pain, the confusion, the guilt of it all. he was just a small child who had too much to hold.

what even is the worth of his life? it was just merely 60 tanbas. even if he dresses himself in luxurious and expensive clothing his past self could never dream of having, it doesn’t rid of the grasp the ipc has over him; his shackles. the cold and harsh metal is not there anymore but he could still feel it tugging on his neck, he could still feel the letters burn as it engraves itself—death would have been a more merciful fate for him than being held by such cruel and dirty hands.

“kakavasha.”

aventurine opens his eyes to the sight of his ceiling. there was no empty land that is of semblance of his planet before him but instead there were the patterns, the walls, and the chandelier that hangs in the middle of it. he was in his room; the silence accompanied with the ticking sound of the clock strikes a balance between quietude and noise.

1:56, he looks at the time. it was still deep into the night—the stars cast its light into his room as it poured itself on the cold floor. there was a rustle by his side and he turned his head to look at you, peacefully sleeping in the comfort of his blankets and you mumbled something underneath your breath though he couldn’t hear it. your face scrunches for a moment before it relaxes into a soft one and he watches all of it happen; he wonders what you’re dreaming of.

unable to sleep—a heavy feeling resides in his chest ever since he woke up—, he slides himself out of the bed. slowly and silently, dare he might disturb your sleep. he slips into his slippers before walking off to the direction of his kitchen. he doesn’t even know what he’s going to do there; he’s not even thirsty nor hungry, he just follows where his feet brings him (that’s how it usually was for him, often aimless and wandering with no direction in mind, he just doesn’t where to go, where he belongs).

he’s not an alcoholic but sometimes he just seeks for the bitterness of the liquid—to replace the taste of blood on his tongue and momentarily feel what it’s like to have nothing on your shoulders; his hands are empty yet it holds so much. he pours himself a small glass, honey-coloured liquid spills into it and a few drops gets into the surface counter. he picks the glass up, swirls the liquid for a few moments and watches its motion, before he brings it to his lips and drinks it all.

the scent is harsh against his nose and the liquid burns at his throat. the taste was too bitter and he felt like spitting it all out but he didn't, he continued to swallow it until there was nothing left in his fill. he tried to think of something else, to avoid those thoughts from entering his mind: the plant there needs to be watered, that reminds me of the light bulb has to be changed, do i even have a future ahead of me?, the painting there is slightly out of place, am i even supposed to survive?, are you still in his room?

he wonders if you’re still tucked in his sheets, if you’re still sleeping in his bed, he wonders what you were dreaming of that got you mumbling and knitting your eyebrows, he wonders when you’ll walk away from him after you realize how ugly and utterly worthless he actually is.

“‘rine?” a voice calls out to him along with the light sound of approaching footsteps. as soon as you enter the kitchen, you are greeted by the sight of him: an empty glass in his hand with a newly-opened bottle of alcohol in front of him. it was currently 2 in the morning, your lover was missing from your side when you woke up but you found him drinking alone in the kitchen.

“what’s wrong, my love? are you okay?” you ask, worry following your tone as you spoke. but aventurine remains silent. he can’t tell you his thoughts, of the overwhelming despair that drags him back down to his misery, and it’s not because he doesn't want to but he can’t—it would break your heart.

(and you know his silence too well. you didn’t carve yourself inside his heart just for nothing, you didn’t consume his flesh to not know the humming of his thoughts inside his chest.)

“you know you can tell me anything, right?” you didn’t care that he’ll break your heart. you wanted all of him and that includes his hatred and anger. if it makes him feel better, break it, shatter it into pieces and you’ll keep on picking yourself up for him. even if you don’t have the ability to stop the downpour, you’ll walk with him through the rain.

after what seems to be moments of hesitation coming from him, he shuffles from his seat and approaches where you stood. and he lets himself fall and crumble for you to catch him in your embrace—he feels safe, he feels okay but the grief, misery, and guilt still tugs at his heart ever so often as it beats.

(“where do i put all of this grief?” he asked you once while you admired the stars with him. “you hold them until it turns to love.”)

you caress his back softly, a small act of comfort as you cradled him in your arms. he doesn’t put all of his weight on you but he pulls you close and buries his face on the crook of your neck, heaving out a sigh as he did; you let him, let him whisper his worries and write his thoughts on your skin.

“did you have a nightmare again?”

“…not really.” the faint smell of alcohol wafts to your nose as he speaks. “i just…”

“it’s fine if you don’t want to talk about it.”

“i’m sorry.” he says and you didn’t fail to notice the crack in his voice and the feeling of something warm and wet on your skin. you hold him closer, tighter, and you brush your hand against his hair, tangling your fingers in his soft locks.

“you have nothing to apologize for. it’s not your fault, kakavasha. nothing is ever going to be your fault.”

“it feels like it does.”

“no, no, my love… you were just a child. you did all that you can to survive and fulfill your promise.”

you start to gently sway him into the melody of your hum and he follows your form like the wind would on your hair. this continues for long until he’ll let go—you’ll hold him for as long as he wants to if it would lessen his burdens.

“i wouldn’t love you any less nor will i think of you as worthless.”

he has days likes this, days where he contemplates and thinks of everything, days where he doesn’t know what to do or what to say, days where he feels like he never changed and he’s still the same weak child who walked away from his sister instead of begging and asking her to go with him (the survivor’s guilt goes hard), days where it feels like everything is falling apart and he’s left on his own again, days where all he wants to do is to just cry in your shoulder—

“are you feeling better?” you ask him as he lifts his head from your shoulder; dry tears are left like trails of stars on his features. you cup both of his cheeks and wipe away the remnants of his misery and ache.

“mhm, a little bit.” he nods and you beckon him closer to your lips just so you could kiss his forehead before peppering his whole face.

—but there are days of warmth and sunlight. days where it all feels a little bit bearable and he can breath, days where every step he takes isn’t heavy, days where he could taste the kindness of the sun on his lips, days where he wakes up with you by his side and thinks he could have this forever, days where he could hear his mother’s lullaby that would comfort him, days where he could hear his sister’s voice telling him that she’s proud of how far he have come, days where everything feels okay and worth it.

years of these little bits of happiness—in silence, in chaos, in tranquility, in destruction—he wants a lifetime of it with you. and though kakavasha was never a greedy man, the ache, the yearning, and craving for those moments with you fills the empty spaces of his thoughts; you looked like what peaceful dreams are made of.

“i love you.” he knows that you know that already, he just thought he’d say it again.

© azullumi — do not plagiarize, copy, repost, nor translate any of my works.

[hisui-dreamer]

we are one

Characters: Trey, Ruggie, Rook, Sebek

Synopsis: You shared a night of passion with your lover before you left for the other side of the mirror, but fate's cruel hands strike once again as you realise you have to raise his child alone in your original world. Thankfully, your child is incredibly drawn to magic, and they opened a portal...?

Tags: slight angst, fluffy end because im a sap, fem reader, reader gives birth to a child, reunions

Word count: 4.5k+

Notes: im sorry this took so long lol, but part 4 is finally here!!

Part 1✧Part 2✧Part 3✧Masterlist

A few months passed as you settled back into your routine at home. Eventually, with the noticeable changes in your body, it dawned on you that you were with child—his child, your lover from the other side of the mirror whom you could no longer reach.

Days turned into weeks, and weeks turn into months. You had adapted to the trials and tribulations of parenthood. Juggling the responsibilities of work, childcare, and household chores was no easy feat, but you found solace in the small moments of your child's growth and development.

Your child was a true joy to behold, a mirror image of their father in many ways, and you often see the ghost of your past lover in them. Having inherited his magic, your child experimented with their powers, leaving you to support them with what limited knowledge of magic that remained from your NRC days.

On one such experiment, your environment started to shift as a wave of magical energy engulfed you. When you opened your eyes again, he was there, right in front of you—

Shizuka (靜菓) with 静 meaning "quiet, still, calm" and 菓 meaning "confectionery, sweets, pastry"

your daughter had silky green hair the colour of fresh matcha and golden yellow eyes that were reminiscent of fresh honey

you named your daughter after her father's dislike of noise and his culinary abilities that never failed to amaze the whole of Heartslabyul

she's rather a quiet child, not very loud but too quiet either

she gets along with other kids perfectly fine, and she doesn't mind sharing or taking a step back at all, always choosing to go with the flow and not get worked up over small things

honestly she's really a mature kid

also just really good at being a peacekeeper and stopping other kids from getting into big fights

buut she does have a mischievous side and may tease her friends when she's in the mood to

at home, she's pretty obedient and will listen to you, but there are moments when she sneaks around

loves helping you with cooking, and her eyes sparkle when she's baking with you

she loves sweets and desserts, but thanks to your warnings about her dental health, she does stop herself from eating too much sugar

is slightly freaked out about cavities so don't you worry, she'll never need any reminding about brushing her teeth or late night snacks

when it comes to school, she doesn't put in too much effort, but you can tell she'd be excellent if she cared more about her grades

which is clearly shown when fixates on learning magic, always so focused that you'll have to call her twice before she snaps out of her trance

you can't blame her for giving it her all though, after all, you've never seen her more excited than when you told her how amazing a person her father is, calm and soothing like a gentle summer rain

once she puts her heart to it, there's really no stopping her

so on another normal evening, as you were cooking dinner while she was studying on the kitchen counter, you found yourself enveloped by a soft light

when you open your eyes, you find yourself standing outside a charming bakery, the fragrance of roses engulfing your senses

and peering through the bakery windows, was the man you had yearned for all these years

It was just a normal day of running the bakery for Trey. With the sun on the verge of setting, he began preparations for closing, when the soft chime of the bell announced a new customer's arrival. He turned around, catching sight of you. His eyes widened in surprise, mirroring the disbelief in your own.

Before words could be exchanged, Trey rushed past the counter. The warmth of his embrace enveloped you as he pulled you close. The years melted away, and the two of you were transported back to a time when you always had each other.

"Is this real?" he wondered aloud, your hearts pounding in sync.

You nodded into his shoulder, tears flowing freely down your cheeks. He pulled back slightly, brushing away your tears as his gaze softened, a warm smile gracing his lips.

"It's been a long time," he whispered. "I missed you so much."

he's just holding you tight, crying as he thanks the heavens for being so lucky to have you in his life again

trey returned to his hometown after graduation, helping out and eventually inheriting the family bakery

he loved incorporating your favourite foods into the store's selection, adding some new desserts from your world that you taught him, and always reminiscing on those tender moments when it was just the two of you in the kitchen

he always knew you had to go home eventually, but that didn't stop him from wishing you could be his life-long partner, supporting each other through thick and thin

so he's beyond grateful and excited to know you and his daughter(?!) shared the feelings even though you were apart

he's rather surprised about said daughter, but there would be no denying how similar they looked

shizuka is a bit nervous, tugging your skirt as she stares curiously at her supposed father

but Trey very quickly makes her feel at home, his warm smiles and even warmer hugs melting away all her nervousness!

he closes the bakery for a few days to help the two of you settle down a bit

this involves reunions with friends and of course, the clover family, who welcome you and their granddaughter with open arms

the clovers are just really really glad their son finally has someone in his life and that he seems a lot more energised now

Shizuka is very quickly introduced to uncle riddle!! who is very surprised but delighted by the behaving little girl who seems to stick to him a lot

uncle deuce and ace also get along with her wonderfully!! especially when Shizuka wants to play around with riddle for a bit hahaha

don't forget uncle cater who flies instantly to meet his new adorable niece and show her off on magicam!!

the three of you settle into a nice rhythm and you help out trey at the bakery now

Trey is very very affectionate with you always, pecking you on the cheek or nuzzling into your neck any chance he can get

Shizuka loves helping out whenever she can too!! she loves learning from her papa and sometimes will just spend hours watching him work

all in all, a blissful, simple family that Trey had always dreamed of, but never would he have believed he was so blessed to have the two of you come back to him

Trey gazed at the young girl, her silky green hair catching the light in a way that seemed surreal. With a heart full of emotions, he approached her hesitantly, his eyes shimmering with unshed tears.

"Shizuka, was it?" he spoke softly, the name lingering on his lips like a prayer. "It's so nice to meet you."

Shizuka's gaze flickered from Trey to you, seeking reassurance. With a gentle nod from you, she turned her attention back to him, her eyes studying him intently.

Trey knelt to her level, his heart racing. "I know this might be a lot to take in, but I'm your father."

She took a small step forward, cautious but curious. Trey extended his hand tentatively, offering a warm smile. Without a word, Shizuka reached out, placing her small hand in his.

A soft smile graced her lips, mirroring the warmth reflected in Trey's eyes. With a tentative but genuine embrace, Trey enveloped his daughter in his arms, tears cascading down his cheeks. Shizuka, feeling the sincerity in his embrace, wrapped her arms around him as well, a sense of belonging beginning to bloom within her.

Kenji (賢至) with 賢 meaning "intelligence, wisdom, cleverness" and 至 meaning "to arrive at, to reach, to come to"

Kenji (賢至) with 賢 meaning "intelligence, wisdom, cleverness" and 至 meaning "to arrive at, to reach, to come to"

your son had the softest hair the colour of wheat, and blue eyes that reminded you of cloudy skies

you named your son after how clever his father was, and his endless determination to reach his goals

he's a really sweet kid, always eager to help around and even others when he notices they're in need

you've heard about the many experiences his father had when he grew up, so you've tried your hardest to make sure Kenji wouldn't have to go through them, knowing it's what your hyena would've wanted

but even then, he's never complained about not having enough, there's a subtle wisdom to him that really mirrors his father

though he differs from him in that he's always willing to share, because he knows not everyone can be so lucky

he may not be too good at haggling prices, but his puppy dog eyes work just as well!

he loves doing chores with you, always smiling and laughing that familiar laugh as he helps you sweep the floor while he tells you about his day

he loves cuddles and kisses!!! his favourite part of the day is climbing into your warm bed to wrap his arms around you, asking you for a goodnight kiss and sometimes even bedtime stories

his ears and tails are a bit of a problem, so you keep his hair a bit long to hide the ears, or just say they're fun accessories

you've told him how his father's determination to support his family and community shined through even in unfortunate circumstances, the resourceful and intelligent man he became and you fell in love with

his blue-grey eyes almost resembled a clear sky when he listened to you, asking you more and more questions about this amazing person

he'll try learning more to be like him, but his kind nature stops him from being too schemey

he's not exactly academic weapon material, but he's pretty quick at absorbing information and putting it into practice

and with lots of determination and practice, he somehow manages to manifest the very thing the two of you wanted, and before your eyes was the man who never failed to make you laugh with him

As Ruggie's eyes adjusted, your figure slowly came into focus, revealing the very person who took his heart with them. "Prefect...?" He whispered, his voice a mix of disbelief and overwhelming joy.

His usually carefree expression shifted to one of disbelief, and then a bittersweet smile spread across his face as the tears welled up in his eyes. Without a second thought, he rushed towards you, sweeping you into a tight embrace.

"You're here... You're really here, right?" Ruggie mumbled, his voice choked with emotion.

You nodded furiously, comfort washing over you at his touch. "Yes, Ruggie, it's real. I'm really here."

His hand reached up to thread his fingers through your hair, cupping the back of your head. "I'm so glad... So, so glad..."

he's holding onto you as tightly as he can, so afraid that you'd disappear into the light if he let you loose for even a bit

after graduation, Ruggie followed leona to become his official attendant, what with him knowing how leona likes to get things done, and his ability to pick up etiquette cues

he's also a great information gatherer, so he's perfectly able to assist leona with his foreign affairs

it's leona's voice that finally breaks the two of you out of your trance, him rushing over to investigate that weird light

the two of you pull back and you almost wouldn't notice it, but leona's smile has softened a bit from the image you had in your memory

Ruggie never expected himself to be a father, and things are going a bit faster than he'd like, but there's no denying he's absolutely grateful to have you and your kid at his side

almost immediately the next day, he takes you back to his hometown so you and Kenji can meet grandma and the neighbourhood

grandma bucchi welcomes the two of you so warmly, she even gets a little teary eyed when she sees Kenji, with him looking so similar to the very hyena she raised

leona and Ruggie delegate a room for you in the side palace, where they also live, so you'll be able to see familiar faces often

Kenji loves following his father around, picking up his mannerisms and wanting to learn more about being more schemey

Ruggie's a bit conflicted his angel of a son wants to learn his ways but even he can't deny those puppy dog eyes

uncle leona and guard jack also love spending time with him! though one of them pretends it's annoying

leona shows him magic tricks and jack will teach him how to fight! he'll be getting great lessons all around

Kenji is very eager to learn more and explore this world, so sometimes you'll have to hold him back a bit just in case he gets hurt

but you suppose with the splendid man his father is, you don't have to worry too much

Ruggie's schedule can be a bit hectic and he pulls a lot of late nights, but he always tries to make time for his family

they're the most precious thing to him in the entire world, did you think he'd let them go that easily?

"Dad!" Kenji exclaimed, darting over to grasp at the fabric of Ruggie's pants. "You're my dad, right?"

Ruggie blinked in disbelief, shifting his gaze towards you. "Is... Is he?" he asked, hope saturating his voice.

You affirmed with a nod, and Ruggie redirected his attention to Kenji. "Yeah... I'm your dad..."

Instantly, Kenji wrapped his arms around Ruggie's legs. "Yay! I've always wanted to meet you, Dad!"

Ruggie couldn't help but marvel in awe at the bundle of joy now clinging to his legs, realizing that this spirited kid was the product of your love.

Ayaka (斐佳) with 斐 meaning "elegance, beauty, grace" and 華 meaning "flower, splendour, brilliance"　

Ayato (斐斗) with 斐 meaning "elegance, beauty, grace" and 杜 meaning "forest, grove, woods"

maybe a part of you should have expected it, with how unpredictable your beloved hunter always has been, but you ended up having to raise twins

the two had luscious golden locks that rivalled sunlight and sharp green eyes akin to the forests in the summer

you named the two of them after their father's love for all things beauty and his love for forests and nature

the two are well-behaved children, though they can be surprisingly sneaky and mischievous

Ayaka is more outgoing and is always fascinated by the pretty things in her vicinity

while Ayato is more introverted and quiet, often silently following his younger sister and nodding along to her ramblings

he definitely appreciates beauty, but he's less vocal about it

and whereas Ayaka is more fascinated by gems and cute plushies, Ayato is more interested in nature, finding beauty in the moss, the trees and the insects

the siblings are just really really curious about the world and they love observing the little details, from catching beetles to keep as pets, to planting flowers they found on a hike

they really do reflect your hunter's wide range of appreciation

the twins love sticking to each other and they're rarely arguing

though they do fight a bit over who helped you more with chores or who you love more

they're very helpful and efficient, and though they may complain about not wanting to work because the other twin is lazing, they'll still get the job done

they love watching tv shows and dramas, often acting out scenes in the shows or in fairytales

and oh the way their eyes sparkled when you told the fascinating man their father was, a man who could control his own heartbeat, keep track of time so accurately, and with such incredible eyesight, who devoted himself to spreading joy and beauty

almost immediately they doubled their efforts in studying, wanting desperately to meet the man to learn his ways and see for themselves just how interesting he is

and just like that, the dazzling light gradually subsided, unveiling a world that you thought only existed in your dreams

you remember the villa, it's where he took you on vacation for the first, and supposedly last time

You hesitantly knocked on the weathered wooden door of the villa, the echoes of your anticipation mingling with the rustle of leaves in the gentle breeze. As the door creaked open, memories flooded back to the first time you entered this place with the man who had captured your heart.

Rook's usual stoic expression shifted, replaced by a mix of surprise and unspoken emotions. "Mon amour... You're really here," he murmured, his voice a tender whisper that hung in the air. Without uttering a single word, he enfolded you in an embrace, as though afraid you might slip away like a fleeting dream.

"I missed you so much," you whispered back the tears flowing freely now that you've felt as you savour the warmth of his touch and the comforting scent of his cologne.

He pulled back, soft brushes of his fingers wiping your tears, his eyes lingering on your face as if trying to capture the essence of the time that had passed. "I missed you too, so dearly..." he admitted as tears threatened to spill from his eyes, a rare vulnerability in his gaze.

this was the most emotion you'd seen from him, even when you said goodbye he kept a smile on his face

he's holding you so delicately, as if you were going to fade away if he applied just a bit more pressure

he's surprised by the children, but he instantly warms up to the idea!

he's remained a pursuer of beauty even after graduation, sponsoring artists while he makes a living through hunting and his film critique

he was taking a break in the family villa for old times sake, but it's almost as if the universe planned it all along

he's very affectionate with you, even more so than before, which you didn't even know was possible

always a warm hand on your waist, an occasional peck on your cheek, and every once in a while he'll feel the urge to pull you in for a hug

he tries to do everything for you so you don't even have to lift a finger, breakfast in bed, waking the children, even cooking and cleaning

he loves spending time with the twins!! teaching the two of them how to hunt and explore the forest safely

he'll show them pretty plants, and interesting fungi, all while explaining what properties they might have and whether or not they're poisonous

the twins are so fascinated by everything, their excitement and energy are seemingly endless

and who's a father to deny his children? he spoils them rotten

he also loves showing the kids a certain idol he's supported...

as well as films of vil!! occasionally talking over the movie to express how perfect a scene is or how flawless his acting is

and when the twins get to meet the vil schoenheit, they're beyond thrilled

asking questions, throwing compliments, all directed towards vil, but they're quiet the moment he tells them to shush

uncle vil loves talking to his niece and nephew, but only when they're... calm

uncle epel also loves popping by and giving the twins some apples so they'll get proper nutrition!

really, you'll have to step in to prevent your kids from being spoiled rotten

but you'll indulge Rook for a while, he's just blissfully happy with his family after all

"Are these...?" he began, his voice trailing off as he looked at the children with a mix of awe and wonder.

"Ours," you answered, a gentle smile gracing your lips as you delicately wiped away the tears that had welled up in your eyes. "Meet Ayato and Ayaka."

The hunter knelt down to their eye level, his usual face softening into a loving. "Ayato, Ayaka," he said, his voice gentle, "It's so nice to meet you. I'm your father."

The children exchanged glances before Ayaka stepped forward. "Hello father!" she exclaimed, throwing her tiny arms around him.

Ayato, the quieter one, followed suit with a nod, a shy smile on his face.

The hunter embraced them both, a warmth in his eyes that spoke volumes. "Such angels... Mon amour what a blessing you've granted me...," he sighed as he held them close.

Atsuki (惇貴) with 惇 meaning "sincerity, loyalty" and 貴 meaning "precious, valuable, honourable"　

your son had curly hair with the softest shade of light green, and piercing golden eyes with slits that reminded you of reptiles

you named your son after the chivalrous values his father had devoted his life to

he's a rather loud and excitable child, always forgetting to control his volume when he gets too emotional

doesn't really get along with other kids, but it doesn't affect him much, he's just happy to have his mama with him

if he's done something wrong, you don't even need to yell at him really, most of the time he's already holding back tears at the thought of disappointing you

very into sports and is also really good at several sports, he's earned a couple of medals and trophies already

he's not the best at magic, and you're also not too sure how his dark fae blood affects that, but he's still pretty good at making progress

he really is just a good kid who tries hard at everything and tries to make the right decisions, but he's quick to get disappointed when things don't go his way, and suddenly you're faced with a very familiar and endearing puppy dog face

so a lot of times, you'll just have to pull him in a hug, and remind him things almost never go the way we plan, and it's okay to accept defeat and learn from it

but there's nothing he's more motivated about than learning more about his dad, who in his mind, is an honourable, talented knight straight from the fairytales who devotes his life to protecting the people important to him

so much so, that you'll find him swinging around the toy sword you got him for training

he'll also start putting even more effort into learning magic, wanting to connect to his amazing papa in a way

and then on one night, you're not sure what triggered it, but he's incredibly emotional and crying about how he can't help you and you're always taking care of him and he just wants to have his dad in his life and it's all so unfair why his mama is alone and-

he starts emitting bright light, so bright you can't keep your eyes open, but you reach to hold him in your arms

when you no longer feel the bright light, you tentatively open your eyes, only to find yourself standing in the dark, spacious throne room of Briar Valley

and standing there, right next to the throne, was your knight in shining armour

Standing next to the grand throne, was your knight in shining armour, Sebek. He, along with Silver, stood in positions of defence, but the moment his eyes met yours, the mask of composure crumbled, and he rushed toward you with an urgency that mirrored the longing that had lingered in his heart during your separation.

He enveloped you in a fierce embrace, his arms securing you but also gentle to not hurt you with his armour.

"I thought... I thought I lost you," Sebek's voice was a shaky whisper against your ear, his grip on you tightening as if trying to confirm that you were indeed real.

"I'm here, Sebek. I found my way back," you reassured him, feeling the softness of his hair against your cheek.

"I never thought I'd see you again," he admitted, his words a whispered admission of the fears he had harboured, pressing his forehead gently to yours.

he's a mess the instant he sees you, and he melts completely when you're finally in his arms

malleus and silver are also immensely happy that you're back, calling lilia to join the family reunion

Sebek's pretty overwhelmed with your presence on its own, so silver and lilia have given him a gentle push to actually function and introduce himself to Atsuki

he's grown to be less awkward with his affection, and particularly with how long you've been away, he doesn't hold back too much

his hands are always inching closer to touch you, his forehead resting on your shoulder every once in a while, it's all really endearing

but his parenting style is a bit awkward

Atsuki really admires him, but that also makes him ever so slightly afraid of him

meanwhile, Sebek is nervous because he doesn't want to do anything that ruins the image of a perfect knight for his son

so they're a bit awkward, but with you as the middle person they can get along pretty well!

they bond over training, with Sebek teaching him sword fighting (with you reminding him not to push him too hard)

Atsuki also really enjoys sparing with uncle silver, who always lets him him, but Atsuki just wants him to fight for real, so it's just silver being "this is real??"

uncle malleus taking him out for gargoyle studies (Sebek is jealous lmao)

and of course, uncle lilia who cooks extremely nutritious meals that always end with Atsuki puppy dog eying you to save him

sebek's family is also very very happy to have you two!!

grandpa baul grumbles around a lot, but he keeps note of Atsuki's favourite foods to prepare them when he visits

also comments on his sword fighting and stance when he feels like it

mom and dad also adore you guys!! mrs. zigvolt loves giving you gifts and talking about sebek when he was younger haha

all in all, sebek's so incredibly grateful you could come back to him, and though he's still awkward with his affection sometimes, he'll never stop trying his best to love the both of you

Atsuki's eyes widened as he took in the sight of his father, the mythical figure he had only heard tales of until now.

Sebek's gaze shifted from you to Atsuki, and his breath caught. His eyes softened as he knelt down to be at eye level with the child who was undeniably his son. "Hello," he said, his voice trembling with a mix of joy and uncertainty. "I... I'm your father."

Atsuki's eyes flickered with a mixture of awe and excitement. "Papa?" he questioned, his voice barely above a whisper.

Sebek nodded, his hands trembling slightly as he reached out to gently cup Atsuki's face. "Yes, little one. I'm your papa."

The room seemed to hold its breath as father and son locked eyes for the first time. Atsuki, still processing the enormity of the moment, broke into a wide, joyful smile. "Papa!" he exclaimed, launching himself into Sebek's arms.

Sebek, overwhelmed with emotion, held Atsuki close, a mix of laughter and tears escaping him. "I've missed so much, haven't I?" he murmured, his heart swelling with love for the son he never imagined to exist.

Part 1✧Part 2✧Part 3 ✧Masterlist

if you liked this post, don't forget to reblog!

[rise-my-angel]

Heart of the Great Wolf

Masterlist

Jon Snow x F!Baratheon!Reader (Slow Burn)

Robb Stark x F!Baratheon!Reader

Pre Series Content and Extras:

Scattered Memories of the Starks

Shadows of their Hatred

The Quiet Wolf's Reminisce

The Stag and The Young Wolf

The Lost Chapters of Jon Snow

A New Life's Darkened Lust

Interlude of Jealous Desires

The Trials of Resurrection

The Injured and the Perverse

NSFW Alphabet (contains spoilers for part 3 and 4)

Woes of a Modern Day Love (a modern!au)

Fresh Heals of Old Pain (a modern!au part 2)

The Aftermath of Envy (a modern!au part 3)

Stoking the Flames (a modern!au part 4)

Then Came the Explosion (a modern!au part 5)

A Family Conflicted (a modern!au part 6)

A Jealousy of Infighting (a modern!au part 7)

A Small Bundles Flash Forward (a modern!au part 6.5)

A Snowy Wolf Pup (a modern!au holiday drabble)

Part 1:

Wolves of the Lone Stag

Mouth of the Lion's Den

An Intrigue Drenched in Blood

Standing Behind a Betrayal

A War of Tragic Beginning

Part 2:

King and Queen in the North

Shadow of a Fiery Stag

Reunion of New Enemies

Pleasure of Conflicted Desire

The Sanctity of Children

What Lies Beyond The Veil

Part 3:

The Cost of Our Sins

Dragged Through the Violence

Only the Cold

Fire for the King's Blood

Part 4:

Ashes of Various Grey

Plans of Pain and Horror

Afraid of a Ravens Flight

Trust in the Gentle Rasps

Visions in Eyes and Flames

A Bastard or The White Wolf

Part 5:

Home of Bloodsoaked Stone

Blazing Fire of Storming Ice

Ghostly Dreams of Old

Sailing Through the Glow

The Last Dragon

The Winter Rose

Part 6:

The Clash of Three Kings

Shrouded Truth in Sickness

Winged Shadow in the Sky

Light in the Darkest Storms

Peeking the Realms Woes

Blood, Roses and All Lies

Broken Love of the Dead

The Souls Tethered in Death

Wolves of the Past and Back

The Crows and The Sight

Part 7:

A Brewing of New Mystery

Great Wolves of White Mists

Darkness Heavy in a World

Past Becomes the Present

The Thing in the Night

Waving Tides of Turmoil

Greenish White Boodraven

Dark Blood of Blinding Light

And Wait for the Snows

Part 8:

Into the Haunted Forest

Fist of the First Men

Through the Frost Fangs

News From the South

Lies Within the Sunlight

Night of Two Distances

Screams of Cracking Ice

The Final Marching Trek

Fear Overtakes a Night

Wolves Teeth and Claws

Part 9:

Forcing Past Our Safety

One Whirlwind to the Next

Court of the North

Glimpse into the Rains

Scattered Pieces of Truth

Reunions and Realizations

Laws of Gods and Men

A Mockingbirds End

The Cold and the Rats

Blood Filled Danger

Memories of a Dead Past

The Winterfell Sept

Young as Stained Red

Conflicting Boundries and Ties

The Stag Against a Dragon

[cuteandhughesy]

Ceilings | Luke Hughes (instagram edit)

summary: you and luke finally know your true feelings for one another and now you are free to post and express that love through your instagrams

warnings: none <3

face claims: lola tung (y/n) & rain spencer (ariana)

a/n: this was one of the first fics I ever wrote and bringing the character to life was so fun.

link to ceilings

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liked by arianabrown, lhughes_06 and others

yourusername the playoff run continues 💙

tagged arianabrown & umichhockey

comments

user1 goals

user2 the cutest girl

arianabrown you are my queen. I bow to you

yourusername love u sm

arianabrown I can still here that chant in my head

yourusername no bc I was just humming it and didn’t realize 💀

user3 to be at a michigan hockey game 😩

user4 😍😍

user5 need those pants immediately

lhughes_06 🍑

yourusername love a good peach

user6 future wag watching her future superstar bf

rutgermcgroarty where’s my pic? I don’t see it

arianabrown don’t start

liked by markestapa, edwards.73 and others

arianabrown your favs

tagged yourusername, lhughes_06, markestapa, edwards.73 & dylanduke25

comments

markestapa you look so pretty hunny

arianabrown 😘😘 was thinking the same about you

user1 obsessed with this

user2 ethan 😍😍😍

user3 the icons of uomich

yourusername omg stop look at us

edwards.73 goats

user4 the prettiest girls

user5 luke baby that’s not your angle

yourusername HA 💀

liked by adamfantilli, arianabrown and others

yourusername last week of my third year 💙✌🏻 summer couldn’t come any quicker

tagged lhughes_06

comments

edwards.73 not the football game…

edwards.73 not you switching up

yourusername i’m so done with you

user1 the vibes are immaculate

user2 so pretty without even trying

user3 to be on luke hughes shoulders 🥲

markestapa thank god the scooter pic sees the light of day

yourusername it’s TOO good

user4 hello the scooter picture 💀

user5 so stunning

lhughes_06 that library has seen so much… 🫣

user4 WHAT DOES THIS MEAN LUCAS

user6 the real celeb at michigan

arianabrown can’t wait for summa !

liked by jackhughes, arianabrown and others

yourusername summer dump 💌 so in love with you

tagged lhughes_06, jackhughes, edwards.73, dylanduke25 & markestapa

comments

arianabrown i’m so obsessed with you

user1 play that should be me by justin bieber

user2 the KISS DUDE IM PASSING OUT 🥹

rutgermcgroarty that ice cream looks fab

markestapa too bad you didn’t come you could’ve had some

rutgermcgroarty shut up

user3 living for the summer reunion pic

jackhughes should’ve included my mean swing

lhughes_06 too bad you don’t have a mean swing

user4 your smile is perfect

user5 you two are so perfect together

user6 luke on the jetski is sending me

lhughes_06 so in love with you

liked by yourusername, _quinnhughes and others

lhughes_06 summer of a lifetime 🤍

tagged yourusername, jackhughes & _quinnhughes

comments

user1 you better know how to fight luke im gunna take your girl

user2 my favs

yourusername omg 😆

user3 THE CURLS

user4 biggest simp in jersey

user5 the kiss….on the cheek….im done. when is it my turn ? 😅

jackhughes i’m suprised you didn’t post a whole collage of just y/n

edwards.73 me too tbh

user6 i love you

liked by arianabrown, lhughes_06 and others

yourusername gonna miss this ☀️

comments

user1 beautiful

user2 you’re actually perfect

lhughes_06 baby you’re so cute

edwards.73 how come you never say this to me?

user3 😍😍

user4 oh so you’re perfect

user5 gorgeous

arianabrown YES BITCH SERVE FACE

liked by rutgermcgroarty, lhughes_06 and others

yourusername made it to jersey 🪻🤍👹

tagged lhughes06 & arianabrown

comments

arianabrown you’ve never looked more beautiful

njdevils we loved having you

user1 YESS IVE BEEN WAITING

user2 wag alert

user3 that first picture omg stunning 😍

jackhughes still thinking about those pastries honestly

arianabrown so real I dream of them

user4 photo dump of the century

user5 there’s nobody to talk about this with

user6 the life I crave

lhughes_06 ❤️

liked by jacob_truscott20, lhughes_06 and others

yourusername life recently: work, ariana, and missing my boyfriend

tagged arianabrown & lhughes_06

comments

user1 serving tho

umichhockey we miss your bf too 😭

user2 you’re so pretty

user3 the difference in shoe size….

edwards.73 luke 😍💦

yourusername there are kids on this app.

user4 if luke can pull her….ww all have hope

user3 luke’s hot wdym

arianabrown stop why do I look so concerned yet so content

user5 my favs

user6 🤩🤩

liked by markestapa, jackhughes and others

yourusername happy anniversary love 💗

tagged lhughes_06

comments

user1 happy anniversary to the king and queen

markestapa it’s felt like an eternity

yourusername is that a diss ?

markestapa definitely

user2 stop i’m in love with you both

user3 the perfect couple

user4 ❤️

lhughes_06 forever

user1 okay edward cullen 😩

user5 luke has never looked happier

arianabrown MOTHER AND FATHER

edwards.73 mark are you gunna let this slide? I thought she only called you daddy

markestapa 🫣

arianabrown STOP

liked by kayleighdocherty_, arianabrown and others

lhughes_06 1 year with you ❤️

tagged yourusername

comments

user1 no i’m fine 😭

user2 stop this is so cute

user3 oh yall in love love

yourusername and many more 🥰

arianabrown she’s so cute

user4 king shit

user5 men take notes !

user6 happy anniversary

jackhughes baby bro so in love 😎

rutgermcgroarty I mean…you’re welcome

yourusername rutger.

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a/n: not spell checked 🤪 make sure you check out the rest of the published insta edits for my fics and stay tuned for the upcoming ones 🤍

I do not own any of these photos - full credits to original owners.

[stevie-petey]

dibs

“Jinx!” Again, they say this at the same time. They both groan, and without any other words, they jump into an intense game of rock, paper, scissors.  “One, two, three!” Steve holds out a rock, Robin does as well, and the two teens almost strangle one another.  They try again, this time they both land on paper, and Robin throws her head back in frustration. “I’m not good at math, but this cannot be statistically possible.”

Summary: do the laws of dibs still apply if steve and robin see you at the same time ???

Rating: general, some swearing

Warnings: swearing, fem!reader, use of y/n

Words: 1.4k

Before you swing in: this is for my beloved val (@southelroy), and i was so excited to try my hand at writing robin and steve together <3 this is a very silly fic, not at all meant to be realistic or serious, and it isnt proofread so pls enjoy n beware !

-

According to the ancient rules of “dibs”, the first person who sees the desired one has the rightful claim of dibs. Anyone else present during this time must obey this sacred rule, respecting the fact that the other has laid claim first. It’s an old, ancient tradition, held up for centuries through faithful friendships. 

It’s a solid system, really.

Except Steve and Robin see you walk into Family Video on the same day, at the same time, together. 

You walk in, hair slightly wet from the rain and your eyes bright, and smile at the two of them shyly. Setting down your umbrella, you unbutton your raincoat and look around the store. “Sorry, is it okay if I hide out in here for a bit? My umbrella broke and I really don’t feel like catching a cold.”

Steve and Robin stare at you, wide eyed and in shock. They’ve never seen you before, they surely would’ve remembered your face if they had, and their brains short circuit simultaneously. 

When they don’t say anything, you cautiously walk up to the counter and laugh nervously. “Uh, hello? I can leave, if that’s what you’re trying to say.”

“No!” Steve shouts, panicked that the word “leave” has left your very pretty and pink mouth. When you flinch at his raised voice, he quickly clears his throat and lowers his voice. “I–uh, I mean… No, no. You can stay–please! I mean, if you don’t mind, ‘cause, ya know, it’s raining–”

“What my coworker here is trying to say is that you can definitely stay.” Robin interrupts, admiring the way the raindrops in your hair seem to form a halo. “In fact, why don’t you have a look around? We have plenty of movies.”

You smile at Robin, which she practically melts seeing. “Thanks, you guys are lifesavers. I’m here visiting my cousin, and he said I should stop by anyways.”

“What, do we know him?” Steve asks, finally finding his voice again. 

“His name is Dustin Henderson, if that helps. He’s a freshman at Hawkins, said he stops here sometimes–”

“Dustin Henderson is your cousin?” Steve and Robin say at the same time, completely taken aback. 

You laugh. “Ya know, I’ve gotten that a lot since being in Hawkins. I take it he’s well known?”

“Oh, he’s definitely well known.” Robin snorts, thinking about how many people would scream at the idea of more Hendersons running around the world. 

But if they’re anything like you, then Robin thinks she’d love to be invited to a Henderson family reunion. Immediately. 

“Well,” you smile again at the two teens, amused by their weird dynamic. You can see why Dustin likes them so much. “Since I’m stuck here for a while and I promised Dustin I’d get a movie, I’m gonna take a look around as suggested.”

You pause, now realizing you haven’t asked for their names, and you gasp. “I’m so sorry! What are your names? I feel horrible for not even asking.”

“You could never do any wrong,” Steve sighs dreamily, leaning against the counter in what he hopes is a cool looking pose. “I’m Steve, Steve Harrington.”

He sticks his hand out for you to shake, which you accept with a slight giggle. He’s odd, but incredibly endearing even if he’s currently standing against the counter like a middle-aged man. “I’m Y/N Henderson.” 

Robin, sensing what Steve is trying to do, hip checks the boy so that he falls onto the ground. “And I’m Robin Buckley, the better half of this duo.”

Like hell she’s going to allow him to flirt with you. 

Her declaration makes you laugh, even as poor Steve groans on the floor in pain. You wink at her, amused by her charm, and start to walk towards the movie aisles. “Oh, I believe that.”

Steve scrambles back up, and the second you’re out of earshot, he and Robin immediately shout at the same time, “Dibs!”

“Jinx!” Again, they say this at the same time. They both groan, and without any other words, they jump into an intense game of rock, paper, scissors. 

“One, two, three!” Steve holds out a rock, Robin does as well, and the two teens almost strangle one another. 

They try again, this time they both land on paper, and Robin throws her head back in frustration. “I’m not good at math, but this cannot be statistically possible.”

“Okay, let’s think about this.” Steve holds a finger up to indicate that he’s speaking, which Robin scoffs at. “I saw her first, so–”

“Uh, news flash, dingus: I saw her first.”

“Were you dropped as a child? I clearly saw her first–”

“Actually,” your voice causes both Robin and Steve to turn in horror, realizing too late that you’ve been standing behind them, listening in. “You both saw me at the same time, so I’m not sure how the rule of dibs applies here.”

“We…” Steve gapes at you, speechless. 

Robin is no better, her face burns horribly. “We think… You’re pretty?”

“Well, I gathered that much.” You laugh again, and the sound is enough for both Steve and Robin to forget all their worries and admire how delicate it is. Then, holding up two dvd’s, you place them on the counter. “I’ll take these, please.”

Robin looks down at your movie selection, seeing The Breakfast Club and The Outsiders, and her heart drops. “Just… Just these?”

“Mhm,” you nod, unsure why her demeanor has suddenly changed. “Is there something wrong with my movie selection?”

Steve looks at Robin and he knows immediately what’s wrong. She absolutely hates your taste in movies, which he’s ecstatic over. He lets out a whoop and first bumps the air. “Yes! She’s mine!”

“Shut up, you moron!” Robin screeches, embarrassed and infuriated. She cannot believe that this is happening to her right now, in front of a very pretty girl, no less. Closing her eyes, Robin takes a deep breath and turns to you. “Please excuse my friend, he’s allergic to pretty girls.”

“Hey, that’s not true–”

You cross your arms at Robin, an amused smile on your face. “What’s so wrong with my taste in movies?”

“Nothing!” When you raise your eyebrow at her, Robin accepts her fate and gives in. She knows she’s done for now. “It’s just… It’s incredibly bland.”

“I happen to think your taste is impeccable, Y/N.” Steve butts in, batting his eyelashes at you for added effect.

Robin watches, with pure disgust, as it works. Steve’s charm gets you to laugh once more, and you even lean closer to his side of the counter. You place a hand on his arm. “I’m honored to have you on my side, then.”

Stupid Harrington and his stupid male species. 

While you and Steve exchange gross lovey-dovey glances, Robin rings up your movie rentals with disdain. 

“That will be $5.25, please.” She mumbles, crestfallen. 

You tear your eyes away from Steve’s and notice the jealousy and hurt on Robin’s face. You frown, feeling bad for being the cause of this. She seems like a sweet girl, and Dustin spoke highly of her, so you know she’s someone special. Taking some cash out of your purse, you hand it to Robin and catch her eye. 

“Hey, listen to me real quick.” Robin looks up, despite not wanting to, but your eyes are too pretty not to look into. When you have her attention, you turn to Steve. “Can you give us a second?”

He looks bewildered. “What? Why?”

“If you leave now, I’ll give you my number.”

“Yes ma’am!” Steve hops over the counter and goes to sort some movies, leaving you alone with Robin. 

Once he’s gone, you lean in close to her. “I understand what you’re going through.”

Her eyes widen, terrified she’s been caught. “W–what? No, I think you’ve gotten this all wrong–”

“It’s okay,” you grab her hand, gently take it between yours. “We’re more alike than you may think, and while I’m flattered, you’re too young.”

Robin knows she should be devastated by this, but all she hears is, “So… Let’s say ten years from now, if you happen to visit Dustin again…”

You laugh, she’s got such a spark to her. “You’ll have to figure out the whole ‘dibs’ thing by then with Steve.”

“I saw you first!” Steve shouts from somewhere in the aisles, before a giant crash follows. A few seconds pass, and then, much quieter this time, he shouts, “I’m fine!”

-

⌑ writing masterlist

[candykissd]

could you do one where r has really bad anxiety and harry helps her?? like fluff and forehead kisses I love your writing sm xx

sweet comfort

𝓗𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐘 𝐋𝐄𝐖𝐈𝐒 🐇

sometimes you can't help but let the anxious feelings lay low, until they build up and take over, luckily, when you need him most, harry's always there for you.

warnings : fluff, possible mature language, mentions of anxiety and panic attacks, mentions of nausea

nats notes : thanks for this request, as an anxiety haver i love this!! i've also been so stuck on what to write.. so, THANK YOU! also, i'm so happy you like my writing :) sorry that this isn't that long, but i hope i pull this off well enough, i wasn't sure to what extent you'd wanted this to go to, so if you want something different lmk and i can write a second one!! hope you enjoy - luv from nat <3

anxiety. not the easiest thing to have to deal with, but you'd grown pretty used to it, having dealt with it for years. sometimes you'd push the feeling down, ignoring it, which is completely valid, and you knew that - but you also knew it wasn't an amazing coping mechanism, since as soon as something pushed you over the edge, it all came out, and you wallowed in self pity for days.

but it worked for you.

you sat on the edge of yours and harry's shared bed, he wasn't home, off filming a video with the boys. this weekend you were off back to your hometown, for a school reunion. and just the thought of it made you so unbelievably anxious.

a nauseating feeling had been brewing in your stomach for the past few days, anticipating the upcoming weekend, all of the socialising, all of the gut-wrenchingly boring conversations you'd be having.

it had all built up, until it came spewing out in one big ball of tears and trouble breathing.

your heart rate picked up, your breathing becoming shallower as tears formed in your eyes. slowly, you pressed a hand to your chest, as if it would somehow calm down your heart back to a normal pace.

it didn't.

tears threatened to fall from your eyes, and as much as you tried to prevent it, knowing harry would be able to tell you'd been crying as soon as he looks at you, nothing worked.

the tears streamed down you face, one by one, dropping from your tear ducts the way rain falls from the sky. it felt as though your throat was closing up, and your heart was going to beat out of your chest, as you tried your hardest to calm you breathing.

tilting your head back and looking up to the ceiling, letting out deep breaths in an attempt to get you back to some sort of normality.

5 things you can see.

4 things you can touch.

3 things you can hear.

2 things you can smell.

1 thing you can taste.

come on y/n. you can do this. you tried to talk yourself out of it, almost gaslight yourself into believing you were okay.

you were snapped out of your thoughts as you heard the apartment door open. fuck. he wasn't meant to be home yet.

"y/n?" he called out from the kitchen, the thud of his bag falling to the floor ringing throughout the flat. "i'm home!" he sing-songed as he made his way through the living room and down the hallway to your bedroom.

his footsteps growing closer as you made a weak attempt at cleaning yourself up, frantically wiping away any tears you could, trying to smooth out your makeup from where it had streaked.

but your damn leg wouldn't stop its incessant bouncing, the number one tell tale sign that something was wrong.

he opened the bedroom door, stopping in his tracks when he saw you, in your disheveled state, his previous smile dropping as he quickly rushed over, kneeling down in front of you and taking your hands in his.

"y/n, love, what's wrong? what's got you all upset?" he asked, looking up at you, his eyes searching yours for any sort of answer.

"i-" you croaked out, your voice hoarse. your eyes met his as you looked down at him, and upon seeing the worry and love in his eyes, you burst out into tears. your arms wrapping around his neck, and his sliding around your waist as he pulled you into a tight hug.

"oh, baby..." he muttered lovingly, his chin resting on your shoulder as you buried your head into the crook of his neck.

and you stayed like that for a good two minutes as you wept, in a comfortable silence, a caring aura surrounding the two of you.

you pulled away from the hug, letting out a small watery cough into your forearm as you smiled softly down at him, a sad smile.

"c'mon, love, tell me what's up." he said, an inviting smile on his face, he hated seeing you like this. absolutely hated it. to see the one he loved most a blubbering mess was the most heartbreaking thing he'd ever seen.

"this weekend... i can't- i can't do it." you breathed out.

"you don't have to. so don't feel like you do. it's completely okay to feel like this." he reassured, his hands on your shoulders.

"but... all my old friends, they- they want to see me." your breathing picked up "they were looking forward to it-"

his right hand slipped up to cup your cheek, his thumb softly stroking your skin in attempt to calm you down before you had another panic attack.

"don't worry about your friends. they'll completely understand. do what's right for you. let's go through your 'what ifs?' yeah?" he questioned, waiting for your answer before you nodded.

after twenty minutes of going through the worst that could happen, you finally calmed down, feeling as though a weight had been lifted off of your chest, your breathing back to normal.

you sniffled. "thank you, haz."

"you don't need to thank me, love, it's my job." he smiled at you, wrapping his arms around your neck and pulling you in for a rough hug, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.

and you felt like the luckiest girl in the world.

[yandere-daydreams]

I love how the rainy weather is connected to Neuvillette’s emotions. When their darling is always around, it’s always a sunny day. When they have to deal with trials or anything stressful, it rains harder than usual (due to being separated from their comfort human).

Imagine if his darling finally managed to escape his grasp one day. Neuvillette couldn’t find them for weeks and all that built up emotions creates a huge storm (such as a typhoon or hurricane).

i am not immune to the hc that much of fontaine's weather is entirely dictated by whether or not you're willing to wear the dress your captor/husband leaves on the foot of your bed every morning. during the first few months of your captivity, clear mornings and nights are common while mid-afternoon and early evening (just around the time a certain judge may start to miss the pretty little thing he left at home) showers are a near-daily occurrence, and you're quickly desensitized to the sudden storms that seem to cloud the sky every time you reject one of his gifts or stoic shows of affection. if you're ever in the mood to see the sun, all you have to do is him in his office or ask after the last trial he presided over, and if you want the rest of the nation to be as miserable as you are, just remind him that he's lost the chance to ever have you willingly. he's predictable, like that.

and it goes without saying that, when you escape and stow yourself away in the countryside, the storms that blow in are enough to batter the stone walls of whatever shack you've hidden yourself inside of, to flood the valleys and leave those who still can evacuating, leaving most of their possessions behind to drown. if you've caught onto his little habit, there's a good chance the guilt will get to you before he does, that you'll be forced back onto his doorstep drenched and muddy and pleading with him not to leave the entirety of your country under water, and if you haven't, then you can bunker down and endure for as long as you can before your rationality wins over your pride and you're forced back to him regardless. it'll be humiliating either way, but if it helps, your reunion will be the sunniest day fontaine's seen in decades <3

[pomo-positive]

Hello everyone! I had a new idea for a februari challenge 🌟

Within fandom, there’s a big focus romantic and sexual relationships, in my opinion sometimes to the detriment of other types of relations. Friendships, familiar bonds, queer platonic characters and aspec characters more often than not get the short end of the stick in these kind of spaces. I fear this notion reinforces amatonormativity and makes fandom spaces less comfortable for aspec folks.

In fanfiction spaces, gen fics are a good way to filter out romantic content! I love ao3’s tagging and filtering system in particular, as you can look up fanfics that explore non romantic relationships easily. I appreciate the ampersand and slash differentiation.

I would like to take the idea of gen fics further, and develop the presence of non romantic or sexual relationships in fandom spaces more. For example, I want to coin the term “gen art”! This would be fanart, that much like gen fics, explores characters and character bonds that aren’t focused on romance. I think it would also be great to develop a tagging system for platonic bonds. Creating this type of language within fandom is the first step to changing the relationship hierarchy we so often see there.

For this challenge, the idea is that for every day you create a gen fan work inspired by the prompt of that day. This can be art as the name suggests, but any type of media is welcome! Fanfics, art, edits, poems, moodboards, photography, the sky’s the limit. Don’t worry about skipping any days or changing up the prompts! This is all in good fun ✨💕

You are very welcome to join in! Please tag your posts with #genartfebruari so I can find them and reblog them 💖 I will be reblogging all entries! I'm of course joining myself too 😊

Even if you don’t plan to join, I would very much appreciate reblogs as it would help spread the word 🙏

It would be really nice if we could make this into a solid thing together. We could have fun creating together, but also try our hand at changing fandom spaces to be more safe and comfortable for everyone ✨

The prompt list (text version):

1. Hug

2. Goodbye

3. Pets

4. Garden

5. D&D Party

6. Birthday

7. Plushies

8. Pride

9. Cosplay

10. Comfort

11. Stars

12. Childhood friends

13. Dancing

14. Love

15. Reading

16. Snuggle

17. Karaoke

18. Picknick

19. Texting

20. Rain

21. Road trip

22. Silly

23. Found family

24. Movie night

25. Missing

26. Gifts

27. Reunion

28. Sleeping

[mo0nfairy]

I gotta see a part of yandere Leon where reader remembers him as they get through los Iluminados maybe some yandere in action lol (at least only if you want to!)

part 1. part 3. part 4.

tw :: obsessive!leon, yandere!leon, mention of drugs, framing, handcuffs, stalking, trauma, guns, wounds, heights, being locked up.

⸺ ooooooo !!! i've been meaning to make a part 2 of my last ask, but had zero idea where to go from where i ended. i also had played a bit of RE2 before the remake came out recently, so a piece of my brain has been kept up in raccoon city for a little while. i would love to express my thoughts and mesh these two games together !!

let's start with where we left off in los iluminados.

upon having your handcuffs taken off by the stranger who is far too close for comfort, you pace backwards, far away as you can get from this insanity of a man. his attitude abruptly shifts into something softer, a major contrast to the emotional breakdown he had just seconds prior. he realizes you're afraid — afraid of him. and as much as the mere thought destroys him to the point of breaking down again, he shoves a sob back down his throat and keeps his distance, despite how desperately he wishes to close it.

6 years. 6 years. he has been waiting over 2,190 miserable days for this single moment. all the sleepless nights spent searching the world for you; all the hopeless nights spent clinging to pillows, praying by some miracle it will somehow become you. every second of these past 6 years has been spent dreaming of this single moment. and even though your reunion wasn't the teary-eyed, passionate kiss in the rain he had hoped for, you are still here with him nonetheless.

and like hell will he let you slip from his grasp again.

with as much time as his needy self would grant him being physically away from you, he is soon at your side. leon then wraps you in his jacket and you swear you hear a harsh gasp escape from him when his finger accidentally makes contact with the skin of your neck. despite your negligence and more-than-obvious discomfort, you do appreciate the new warm embrace after a week of cold rain and damp clothes. it smells exactly like him, as well.

and with that, he's got a gentle hand hovering over your lower back as he guides you through the depths of this hellhole. and piece by piece, memories that had been buried in your brain begin to disinter themselves.

for example, you got a staring problem bro?? for the entirety of the time you spend with leon in los iluminados, there is literally never a single moment where this mans eyes are not on you. half of the time it is to ensure you are unharmed, but the other half consists of him staring in complete and utter awe. it's kind of hard to focus on surviving when leon is constantly staring into your soul. but it has just been so fucking long since he has been able to see you in all of your glory, so please excuse him for any inappropriate behavior on his end.

also, you knew you have lived in raccoon city for a short period of time before the events of RE2 happened, but like everything else that relates to that damned place, you couldn't remember a thing.

except now. leon's gaze uncovers a memory you have of yourself being held in one of the RPD holding cells. the atrocious scent, the uncomfortable bench, the paint peeling from the walls. you try and scrutinize what on earth you could have been arrested for, but your attempts are merely futile. but unbeknownst to you, your arrest was nothing but bullshit. and to say leon has had a crush on you from the second you moved into RC would be nothing short of the truth. so, by pulling some strings, the rookie had managed to lock you up for what he calls 'bonding time'. he'll place a chair backwards in front of your cell, prop his arms on the backrest and admire you with your full attention finally on him (instead of just stalking you around town).

two things you now remember about this man: he was so adorably baby-faced back then and my god, was he awkward. he still cannot talk for shit and i mean this with my whole heart. his sweet, innocent eyes gaze at you while he tries to play it cool, pulling cards like "yeah, i workout" and "you come here often?". all as if he hadn't personally arrested you for possession of illegal substances he planted himself. (nothing will happen to you, obvi. he just desperately needed a second alone with you to show off how charismatic he can be. or try to be, at least).

and for the short second of seeing him after 6 years, his eyes were just devoid of any life. you had assumed the trauma inflicted from that night had caused such a contrast in his physical appearance, and you would be right to assume that. but the soulless eyes, monotone voice, and lackluster personality was entirely due to your disappearance. days upon days of the lonely, eternal torment destroyed his sanity. however, that illustrious boy you can barely remember seems to have returned with your presence.

another thing you can't believe you had forgotten was how intense his stare is. the way he stares is illegible and sometimes overwhelming. he shivers in his stance, whimpers at your every move, and his mind runs rampant with all sorts of obsessive declarations of love. although it may seem creepy to others and especially yourself, do not fret. he has no ill intent towards you, god he could never! this puppy-dog of a man is simply marveling at your sheer existence.

you are able to retrieve another lost memory when you have to jump from a window and into his arms (for those who say he won't be able to catch you, stfu. have ya'll seen how beefy his arms are??? anyways....). the secret agent you have grown to like during your stay in los iluminados jumps down marvelously (most def showing off his james-bond-esque agilities to you). he now watches from below as you stare at the distance beneath you in trepidation. this distrust you have — he is going to travel to the ends of the universe to fix it. no matter what.

you begin to ponder, he has savagely brutalized all threats in your path and held your hand as if he were holding the world all in the same breath. you should trust him, especially after witnessing the pure display of loyalty he has for you.

"don't be afraid, y/n. i'll catch you, i promise!" there is 10000% a way to walk through the house and down the stairs to get to him, but ofc he's not gonna tell you. why would he willingly throw away the opportunity to be your knight in shining armor?

"you will?" your voice is full of apprehension. his stare on you feels like the same bullets he's forced upon your attackers.

"always."

with that, you rip the bandaid off and jump from the ledge. and leon was most certainly not lying. you land safely in his embrace and he wraps his arms tightly around your form. and to finally have you so close, after so, so long of devastatingly praying he could feel you once more.......... if he had a tail, it would for sure be wagging so fast it would morph into a blur. and the way he holds you is different, as if his gentle nature is reserved for you and you only (which it is. this is literally him in a nutshell).

and when you had instinctively buried your face into his neck upon landing, clinging to him out of fear of hitting the ground, he literally melts. i'm serious, he literally just 🫠🫠🫠🫠. the faint hum of laughter and adoration that escapes his throat breaks you out of your state of shock. you made it safely to the ground without breaking every bone in your body, hooray! (as if there is a single reality in existence where leon would ever allow that to happen, but i digress).

you meet his gaze and there is that all-too familiar stare he gives you. leon's arms holding onto you like a lifeline uncovers a memory you have of yourself being held like this all those years ago. you can't recall exactly where in raccoon city you were, but you can remember how humiliated you were when you tripped over a crack in the pavement and ate shit. there was the fairest of scrapes against your shin, but the mortification hurt far more than any wound. while you dust yourself off and attempt to ignore the burning stares of pedestrians, a shout of your name sparks your attention.

the RPD gear and besotted eyes you're met with could be no other than that baby-faced rookie. you ponder of what he was doing on this side of town. was it a simple coincidence you had run into each other? or perhaps, had he followed you? just when you think you can't feel more embarrassed, leon gets down on one knee and dramatically inspects your wound. and my god, he acts like you were shot or something. he visibly shudders from the sight of your leg; people begin to gather around the commotion. with pure ease, he then scoops you into his arms to bring you to safety. you can feel his heart pound like a machine gun beneath the palm of your hand.

despite the humiliation deprived from this event, you fortunately are free from anything mortifying in los iluminados. however, leon doesn't seem to understand when to take a hint.

"uh... you can put me down now." you come out of your memory to thrash in his grasp and avoid his intense gaze, but your prince charming seems to still be caught in his y/n-filled daze.

after a few long seconds, your comment seems to finally reach his brain. "huh?" his response is faint and you almost don't hear it.

you repeat yourself and begrudgingly, leon then slowly puts you back onto your feet, savoring the last few seconds spent with you in his arms. exactly where you belong. you can only fear how much more suffocating affection you'll have to endure before you can finally remember what happened that night.

i think someone legit needs to slap me across the face and bring me back into reality cause holy shit...... i went WAYY too far with this. my brain is a mess thank u for reading.

i have more thoughts about this........ just incase u were curious........ ;)

[thegirlwhowrites642]

Could you recommend us some of your favorite hinny fics? Love your work btw!

Thank you <3

I would tell you to look at my bookmarks on Ao3 but I'll give you some highlights (I'll keep wips out of this because I never know how to feel about recommending unfinished work):

Gone was any trace of you -- I'm pretty sure I've read this something like a billion times, I can quote it word by word

Come stay for the summer -- this is always such a light fun work to re-read, I'm a big fan of muggle hinny, I really have a soft spot for it

Altered -- the obsession I have for this one-shot, this to me is hinny in its purest form

A Weasley reunion -- some hardcore pining from Harry, and fake dating, what do you want more from life?

Time -- Harry realising he wants children, with Ginny. The specific way in which the realisation is written is something I adore

Summer rain -- this is great, what else there is to say really, it's just great

Sacred new beginnings -- I love how this somehow manages to be a retelling of sixth year despite being a muggle AU with young adults hinny

Orchards -- the author definitely has a higher opinion of the "golden trio" than I have but the way she writes dialogues between Harry and Ginny is perfect, she also does a thing I love which is to make Ginny actually funny. It's one of her main personality traits and yet it's forgotten so often, I think it happens due to some sort of unconscious bias about women not being funny (not native English speakers writers are forgiven though because being funny in a foreign language can be quite hard)

After the leaves have fallen -- this talks about what I call Harry and Ginny's never-ending argument and it's written so beautifully

Everything I am is yours -- I just noticed that on ao3 it's signed as the first chapter of two but it definitely can stand on its own and is a very well done muggle retelling of Harry and Ginny's story

take what I took and give it back to you -- a beautifully written soulmates marks au that doesn't really change Harry and Ginny's story but, as one of the comments says, seems to bring up an existing implied element of the canon one

Already here -- because Hannah's stories that I love the most (they are all great though) are wips, I'll put this one in the hopes that one day she'll decide to turn it into a multi-chapter story (@takearisk-ao3 think about it 👀)

The brilliant dance -- this is so fucking funny and entertaining while also being heartwarming. Fucked up but inevitable/obsessed with each other hinny spending their early 20s being a hot mess is my AU drug

Someone else's life -- finished reading this a few days ago, a very well developed brilliant idea

[I already know the second I post this I'll realise I've forgotten some brilliant work]

[guiltyasdave]

joel miller - oneshots - part 3

fic recs masterlist - please check the tags and warnings on each fic! if you enjoyed a fic, please show the writer some love <3

mistletoe kisses by @ilovepedro

give by @goodwithcheese

saints and sinners by @loquaciousferret (featuring javier peña)

playing santa by @jksprincess10

but, baby, it's cold outside, consequences & the number is not available at the moment by @iamasaddie

a heart for melting by @joelscurls

santa claus is comin' (to town) & starving by @palioom

snowflakes, a fireplace, and you by @swiftispunk

these boots were made for riding by @pedgito

what takes the edge off by @sweetercalypso

first few dates & glimpse of us by @pascalpvnk

joel nye, the science guy by @endlessthxxghts

say yes to heaven by @psychedelic-ink

he knows by @psychedelic-ink (featuring tommy miller)

hook 'em horny, sea-cret obsession & a lesson in condom sense by @joeloverture

new beginnings by @wethairjoel (featuring tommy miller)

team spirit & treat you right by @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin

love u, dad, alone and forsaken, leave, caught the bug, handyman, dreams that you dare to dream & ghost by @mrsmando

the webs we weave by @hyzer34

late nights, early mornings by @javierssunglasses

gloves off by @kiwisbell

like nothing matters & inhale, exhale by @sp00kymulderr

sun kicks out & get you alone by @5oh5

tear you apart & dark shades of innocence lost by @mermaidgirl30

sorry, baby & you taste like home by @corazondebeskar-reads

tucked away by @eupheme

light in the rain by @burntheedges

illicit affairs by @chaotic-mystery

overtime by @dancingtotuyo

my little love by @planet-marz1

flower by @aurorawritestoescape

study days with joel by @bearsbeetsbeskar

repeat it by @hellishjoel

cookies as payment & eyes on me, darlin' by @whxtedreams

mouthful by @gutsby

take me by @getitoutofmymindwrites

reunion by @rosepascal

captive by @joelsgreys

static by @gasolinerainbowpuddles

savior by @ozarkthedog

sweet release by @cavillscurls

need to know by @luxurychristmaspudding

something in the orange by @wannab-urs

daughter lessons by @sempersirens

heavy rain by @lunitawrites

make a move on me & won’t you suffer for the angels to fly? by @freelancearsonist

oasis by @beardedjoel

diehard & cry, baby by @gutsby

tarnished but so grand by @morning-star-joy

mine, all mine by @thetriumphantpanda

[formylovetodaryldixon]

"Like there was no tomorrow." CH.7—Daryl Dixon.

Chapter Summary: After days and days on the road following the loss of Bob and Tyresse that night in the church, it all comes down to the reunion with your father. But after a revealing conversation, you finally understand why Daryl and you broke up. Then, April asks Daryl an important question before he asks you an important question as well.

A/N: Thank you to everyone who reads this story! We got to the moment where you and Daryl agree to form a home for yourselves and for April. Yeeeh. I hope you like it! And one detail, I love Beth but since her death left a void in my heart I didn't write about her here and about Maggie, Daryl and the others suffering because of it. It breaks my heart too much :c (I hope you understand)

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6

“I have a message for you.” On his knees, Gareth smiled at you, leaving you that memory before he died in God’s house that night. “Daddy’s coming for you, baby, you can’t hide forever.”

Far in the distance, the bus explodes as you continue deeper into the woods, leaving behind a monstrous flame whose warm colors resemble the sunset—a heartbreaking promise for either party, that at the end of this day, some will die.

The ambush. The group splitting up because of those people. April getting lost in the commotion. But now, even with your hair wet, some strands sticking to your face and the raindrops that surprised the summer season still falling down your forehead, nothing blocks your vision of that man when you finally find him: with the cruel, mocking smile on the face of your supposed father who had aged from the inclemency of life, his right hand holding the gun against April’s temple like an expert.

Like a bad joke from a cruel and short life, April relives that hopeless sensation of feeling another gun pointed at her, frozen in fear, but murmuring “mommy” under her breath, tears that get lost under the incessant rain. Always hidden in the shadows because that was where the monsters lived, the man who always tried to break you showed up this afternoon with his people, the person who trapped you in a windowless castle where he kept you as his favorite prisoner, always protected by the gigantic dragon, always small, always afraid.

You can shoot him now, but he had been such a good cop that, in a millisecond, he could shoot April even if he were dying.

“Dad, just let her go, okay? This is between you and me.” In a friendly tone, you lower the long–range weapon you had shoved against your shoulder, so hard that it leaves the bright promise of a bruise even in the dull rain, but the crumbs of your relationship with him make you do so, only to go back to being that helpless little girl who could never live up to putting his life in danger. He always underestimated you, even now. “Whatever problem you have with me, she’s not to blame for anything.”

Your dad lets out a dry, sarcastic and small laugh, but you can feel his repulsive disgust in that sound.

“You’re not my daughter, you never were, you were just a nobody that I kept raising even after your mom died.”

You swallow the pain, but your throat is so dry that you wince. Your mind is racing a mile for minute, and yet, suddenly the world seems clearer with that cold revelation even under the stormy weather, because now you can give meaning to everything, a reason to every word of his, every look, every action from him, to finally stop walking through that father–daughter relationship in the dark, blindly, always lost in the infinite why?

“It’s okay, Jeff, I understand. In fact, my whole life is starting to make more sense now, so thank you for the clarification.” Your tone is calm, an action that masks the painful beating of your racing heart. “But I ask you again, can you let my daughter go, please? Look at her, she's a baby. You don't have to ruin her life, too.”

His free hand holds April's small shoulder, keeping her firm against him.

“Your daughter is pretty, and I guess this is better than the disgusting idea of ​​you getting involved with that nobody, that drug dealer’s younger brother. Daryl, isn't it? Although I can see that the bastard didn’t stay as far away from you as he promised he would.”

Stunned by the thought of him and Daryl meeting in the old world, you feel the lump in your throat.

“You met Daryl?”

Another short laugh answers you before his words do.

“I have to give you credit because you hid your relationship pretty well those years, but I raised you better, sweetheart. Did you really want to end up being the wife of someone like him?”

Your common sense pushes your laughter to the back of your body, because answering sarcasm with more sarcasm would only make his short patience run out faster.

“I still don’t understand; would you mind explaining?”

You want the full story, and Jeff sighs, as if talking about Daryl is so exhausting that it leaves him without any energy.

“I saw you one night when Matt was driving me home. I was a little drunk. You were sitting on someone’s motorcycle outside a bar, and my heart actually jumped for joy at the thought that my son had finally come home…” The few seconds of his smile die cruelly, all under the words that come next. “But then I saw someone come out just to grab your face before kissing you. And I felt sick when Matthew filled me in on who he was. A redneck, a nobody, and worse, the younger brother of a drug dealer who’d been in jail. Not the right image for the police chief, sweetheart.” Jeff clicks his tongue in disapproval, almost convincing you that he had feelings for you. “It was easy to look into their backgrounds, and with a little heavy–handedness, he swore he’d walk away from you rather than see his older brother in jail again. So I guess he didn’t love you as much as he swore he did: you know no man gives up on the woman he truly loves…”

His words hang in the air, only to be carried away by the wind. But like that little boat that finally finds its way to shore thanks to the lighthouse, after having been adrift for so long, it all makes sense, everything you thought life took away with that farewell comes back to you. The end of the relationship, the words, the abrupt end to an affection that only seemed to grow stronger with time, it had all been cut off by a human hand.

There’s peace in knowing the truth, but there’s also anger in knowing that he deprived you of any other kind of love because your so–called father never wanted you to feel any, not from him, not from anyone else—Leaving you lost, feeling nothing. No. That’s a lie because you’re feeling absolutely everything right now. The pain of having been nothing to him. The unbearable pain because you did love him once. And it’s like drowning in the deep sea, feeling the pain of the water invading your lungs. And it’s like dying, but without truly allowing yourself to die.

“Well, you got it, Jeff. That relationship was over long time ago, do you feel better about that, big boy?” You chuckle, sadness masking the sarcasm he always hated hearing from you, and you let out a tired sigh next, like that last breath before you perish on the floor. “I guess your hatred for me makes sense now, because don’t think I never noticed the way you look at me... why do you think I always locked my door? What I don’t understand is why you stayed by my mom’s side like a wimp? Begging for love from the person who apparently cheated on you.” You scoff softly. A drop falls from his lip and the light weight wipes away his winning smile, but his pulse quickens, matching his heartbeat, threatening to destroy everything in a single second. “I honestly thought you died that night, but at the same time, I’m not surprised you ended up in Terminus. You were a cop, but you were never strong enough to do things alone, so I guess someone saved your ass that night, Matthew probably... because even he knew you're not as brave as you think you are.” His brow furrows at the shock of your words, but hatred gleams in his gaze like those days long gone, but never blurred. “I was a kid though, Jeff. So what’s your excuse? What was my sin in all this? What crime did I commit against you?”

But he remains silent, ineloquent and spiteful.

“And Austin, my brother, is he actually your son?”

He nods.

“Okay. Now, let my daughter go, and you and I can work this out.”

But the attempt at a step dies before you can take it as his body tenses, gripping April’s shoulder tighter.

“Mommy…” Her voice is a whisper, a soft cry that barely manages to find its way through her closed throat.

You swallow the fear.

“It’ll be okay, honey, trust me, okay?”

April can see through the terror, eyes bright with tears that are free again, but panic sets in as Jeff tries to take a step back, taking her with him. However, like a slow–motion movie, even your heartbeats slow as an arrow sinks into his shoulder, a loud cry pushing out of him with the pain. And like a slap from life, something breaks in the sky and the rain falls more dreadfully, seconds of bewilderment that April takes to run towards Daryl at the moment you raise the gun again, firing a bullet that sinks to the height of his chest.

You know why Daryl didn’t shoot him in the head, but the instant Daryl holds April as Jeff falls against that tree, you reach out to him before kicking the gun hanging in his hand.

“Are you going to kill me, baby?” He tries to laugh, but the action makes his expression twist in pain.

You let out a defeated sigh, like part of your soul is about to go with him, even though he didn’t deserve it.

“It’s ironic, isn’t it? I found a baby that isn’t mine but I love her like she is, unlike you, who had a little girl in your house that you never knew how to love even when I tried to.” His gaze locks with you at your own revelation, an incredulous expression on his face that came through even despite everything he put you through, in the past and now. “Thank you, Jeff, because you saved my life in this new world even though your intention was for me to die young, don't think I didn't see it in your eyes, but now it's my turn to give you back the lesson: I must break you before you break me, because I know you won't stop until you ruin me completely, and I can't give you that pleasure anymore, not now that I have to protect my daughter.”

A soft smile tugs at the corners of his lip, feeling, for the first time, proud of you just seconds away from everything being over.

“Goodbye, (Y/N).”

You nod absently before raising the gun and firing.

Then, you slide the gun strap over your body to free your shaking hands, free from holding any instrument that only served to end some lives that crossed your path. Bad people, you want to believe as you turn around to leave behind every vision of that man, everything that happened at his side. For a few seconds, everyone needs a moment of silence to face what happened, but when you see Aeris on Daryl’s shoulder, you chuckle softly.

“Are you and my baby friends now? Like besties or something?”

Daryl scoffs before taking April’s hand, holding it gently but firmly before walking with you at their side.

“This ain't a damn friendship, woman, s'jus' a truce between me and the bird.”

Like a respite from that crazy life, the path back to the main road is clear of walkers. But you and April chuckle, amused glances passing each other as a good sign that not everything is as dark and dull as the rain and the forest—a good omen that life is not a selfish b*tch, not that much at least.

“You’re not as good a hunter as I thought if my bird had to bring you to me. You don’t get tired of me, do you?”

“Stop it.” Daryl grunts quietly, shooting you a warning look before continuing to look ahead.

You sigh before changing the subject.

“Please tell me the others are okay. Judith?”

Daryl looks at you again, silently telling you that the bad guys are gone.

“Everyone’s okay, peach. No one is hurt. And when all the craziness was over, Glenn came back sayin' he found a cabin. It smells like horse shit, but it works… fine, sorry!” Daryl whines when April tugs at his hand, a frown on her face as if her little mind lets her overlook the danger to her life, but not the bad words. “Ya need to get used to me, monkey.”

The little girl has her gaze fixed on him, as intense as Aeris and her overflowing curiosity.

“You don’t have to say so many bad words all the time, Da…” Caught in the constant confusion, April bites her lip to keep from saying out loud the word she wants to say to the first man she considers a true father figure. “Okay?”

Daryl scoffs.

“I ain't promisin' anythin' I know I won’t keep.”

There’s a moment between them, that complicity, father and daughter in their own world, and you stop for a moment to look at him: a man who would surely scoffs (as he does all the time) if you called him that prince who, unknowingly, without any intention of doing so, saved you from that cruel fate that you would never have been able to escape from alone.

Finally, in the middle of the unstable path, the small hill ends in a cabin in the middle of large trees, and Sam is the first to hold you in a hug: her body is warm despite the cruel cold, as is the warmth of Carol, Maggie and Rick.

Inside, the small campfire is still breathing and the warmth spreads throughout the place, the colors of the fire flickering to paint the emptiness of the place with soft shades of orange–some are awake, others have chosen to spend the rest of the night in gentler dreams, like Aeris who flew to one of the tallest trees. But as if she knows what’s coming and you don’t, Sam takes April to sleep near the campfire, and in silence, Daryl places his hand on your lower back, triggering memories, but you let him guide you to a side of the cabin where the light from the flames doesn’t shine brightly, making the scattered hay into a comfortable makeshift bed. Putting his crossbow aside, Daryl lays there with you, one arm behind his head and on his left side, watching the profile of your face, while, lying on your back, you finally let go of all the pain that was building up in your body.

“I know it will sound stupid but, are ya okay, peach?”

You sigh, wishing that, just like the air you let go, you could do the same with everything else inside you—and you want to start by telling the truth behind the separation, but you’re not ready for everything that would be unleashed.

“I heard what April told you when she ran to you… did you?”

Daryl’s heart races, as if an overwhelming emotion called fear and happiness put a hand on his neck, but it’s not because of fear of ruining it (I mean, although Daryl does feel that), but rather it’s because of the possibility of a better future, like a new version of a warm home he thought of building with you. He’s scared of that.

“'bout her callin' me daddy?”

“Yes.”

“Yeah.” He murmurs, softly so as to not clash with the mood inside the place. “I think it hit me harder than a truck.”

You laugh softly, and finally, gathering courage, you turn your body to face him as well, watching him with a gentle gaze so as not to scare him with the overwhelming truth.

“Do you want to be? Because no one would blame you if you didn’t.”

Daryl gulps.

“I do, but I’m terrified of ruinin' it.” His free hand that rested at the height of his chest makes contact with your cheek, rough fingers caressing you lovingly, the other’s skin reminding you of the warmth you two shared in the past. His gaze on yours is deep as the sea, but now, you know you could never drown in the color of his eyes, not when Daryl would always be there to keep you afloat. “I was always scared of the idea of ​​being like ma dad, of hurtin' someone who was never to blame for anythin', like he did with me and ma brother.”

“Hey, no…” You stop him fondly, you own hand holding his, because there was always a fragile part of Daryl, the boy who became a man but still felt the pain like a child. “You are not your father, Daryl, and you never will be. He never knew how to love anyone and you did even though they never repaid you in the same way. I know you loved your mom and your brother… everyone can see how you feel about Carol and the family you formed all this time, and I’m sure even April can feel it. And yes, sometimes you have a short temper and you act like an asshole, but I know you did so you don’t feel too much when you lived so long bottling up your feelings to feel little or nothing, but I also know that this world has only shown you that you are capable of protecting and loving people you didn’t know first.”

Between a sea of ​​words that calm his heart, Daryl finds the strength to chuckle.

“To be fair, I did warn ya I was an asshole when we started datin'.”

“Yeah, I know. Why do you think I threw that peach at your head when you were being one?” You chuckle back. “Believe me, I saw the signs, but you were always incredibly hot so I guess I didn't care much about the rest.”

“Stop it.” Daryl grunts in embarrassment, pulling his hand away as he feels the heat shooting through his body, but his shyness makes you chuckle a little harder.

“Please, you are. And now even more so with your long hair.” You frown, but keeping a smirk. “You did it on purpose, didn’t you?”

He clears his throat, but Daryl can feel the blush blooming on his cheeks.

“Nah, I jus' didn’t want to cut it all the time.”

You nod, not believing him at all.

“Well, let me tell you, that was a very good decision because you look very, very attractive, so much so that it should be a crime to look like that–”

Your words become prisoners within your lips as he places his hand over your mouth, his brow furrowed in the failed attempt to look serious despite the obvious embarrassment that accompanies it as a result of your unfiltered words.

“Woman, please stop.” His hand smothers your laughter, but you nod as a promise not to continue, causing him to pull away. “Jesus, I forgot how much ya loved to make fun of me.”

You try to keep a calm expression.

“Oh, don’t pretend you didn’t like it. You didn’t have a sense of humor until I came along.”

A small smile tugs at the corners of his lips.

“I never said I didn’t love it.” The word love pulls the scale to one side, so drastically that it breaks it, but you manage to keep the surprise from showing on your face. “And yeah, ya always seemed to enjoy teasin' me, but ya were so damn sweet that no one noticed that sassy mouth of yers.”

You scoff, just to hide the tickle in your chest.

“Look who’s saying it, the person who didn’t know anything else to say but sarcastically. But seriously, didn’t your face hurt from having that scowl on all the time?”

Daryl chuckles, but there was something in his eyes when they turned honest, transparent, just like now—dreamy eyes when it came to you, even with all the sadness, but there’s something broken behind his tear–crystallized gaze that Daryl struggles to keep from falling.

“M'sorry, peach, m'sorry, I was a fuckin' coward.”

“What?” You can’t find the right words because suddenly, Daryl seems to choke on his words, but he’s ready, you can see it, to let everything he kept hidden finally find the light. “I don’t—”

“I love ya, so fuckin' much.” His voice is soft, but decisive. “I always did, peach, and despite that shitty thought in ma head tellin' me all the time that ya deserved someone better, I was ready to become that someone 'cause I never wanted to let ya go, but yer dad threatened to put Merle back in prison if I didn’t stay away from ya… and Merle was a bastard, but he was ma brother, and I knew ya were ma real family, but I was afraid to break ya just like yer father did all those years. I could see the pain in yer eyes, n’ I didn’t want to do that to ya, too.”

The truth is overwhelming, even though you already knew it, but hearing the guilt in his voice makes it all the even more painful because Daryl did care about leaving you, unlike Jeff, who made him do it without a shred of remorse.

“Daryl, it’s okay.” Your gaze is warm and kind, a small demonstration that your words are real and you mean them. “It’s not your fault, it never was, you were doing what you thought was best. You protected your brother, Daryl, and that’s what family does.”

Daryl swallows the lump in his throat, holding your gaze through his sad eyes.

“But I pushed ya away, peach, even though I knew ya didn’t want to leave.”

With a slight broken smile, you try to hold back the first tear—the one that is the hardest to keep in line, because after it, the others would come like an unbridled sea.

“Yeah, you’re right, I didn’t want to leave you.” With one hand, you rub your face to remove all traces of hopeless expression. “Try to sleep, okay, love? Since we left the church you haven’t slept much, don’t think I didn’t notice.”

The pain is beating, but his serious expression breaks with a sad smile because Daryl knows he won’t force you to talk.

“Ya’ve always been a mom. With April and Sam, with me, and even with Merle.”

You let out a tired chuckle before closing your eyes, hands under your cheek to keep them warm.

“I know, but don’t pretend you didn’t like it either.”

A few seconds pass, until Daryl finds his voice.

“Woman, there’s nothin' 'bout ya I don’t love.”

His words hang in the warm air all night, eyes closed for a short time before falling into his own paradise, dreaming of something that would come true in the very near future. And at some point in the hours that passed with a blink, his free hand sought out your body and the warmth that emanated from it, like he always did since the first time you both slept together in a bed. Little memories came back to his sleeping mind, happy moments between holding hands, the first kiss and the ones that came after, when Daryl realized you were trustworthy and showed you his scars, with your gentle hand caressing every past pain, all before make love for the first time.

But when the day starts to return, Daryl feels the slight push of his heavy body and the emptiness beside him.

“What?” His voice is even deeper in the morning, and he sits up to see April through a blurry gaze for a few seconds. “Ya okay, sweetheart?”

“Yes, but I need to ask you some questions.”

Daryl frowns, confused.

“Okay?”

“What’s mommy’s favorite color?”

Daryl frowns even more at a question that seems to come out of nowhere, but he ignores that April had already asked you the same questions days before just to check compatibility between you and him like Aunt Sam had said.

“Blue.” He answers, not missing a beat—like your eyes, she wants to say, but April decides to continue.

“Coffee, hot or cold?”

“Depends on the season, but always with sugar… sometimes too much.”

“Seafood?”

“Forbidden forever. Mommy ain’t a fan of the texture; she says it feels too funny in her mouth.”

“Her favorite fruit?”

“Peaches.”

“Her favorite flowers?”

“Tulips.”

“Favorite book?”

“Pride and Prejudice, but that’s a trick question 'cause she kept fallin' in love with every leading man like she didn’t have a damn boyfriend in real life.”

April laughs at Daryl’s expression, eyes still a little closed and hair a little disheveled.

“Can I ask you another question?” Daryl nods, not noticing her own expression. April is confused and terrified, her little mind racing like her little heart squeezing almost painfully. “If I asked you, would you be my daddy, Daryl?”

Like that imaginary truck that seemed to have run him over, or faster than the bike he used to drive when he didn’t even care about his own life, Daryl smiles despite the inner terror, that misguided idea of ​​ruining everything because that’s what his own parents taught him, but as he holds April with ease, lifting her up to bring her closer to him, because, although Daryl knows that life is unpredictable, the only thing he can be sure of is that he could love the little person who had seen through that shield of his, the real person behind, the older but scared person, with the little girl in front who wanted to give him a chance to have a family now that life had put her in front of him.

“Ya’ve been ma daughter since I met ya, sweetheart, since the first time I held ya in ma arms as if ya were mine.” Daryl pushes a strand of her hair behind her ear, an expression that is so simple and so powerful. “Is that okay?”

Her relief is so overwhelming that it can’t fit in her chest and her small frame, but it’s the impulse that makes April wrap her arms around his neck.

“Okay, daddy.” She smiles through her tears, her voice cracking but dripping with happiness. And April feels loved in his arms, and that's enough for her. “Mommy’s outside. Now go give her the ring before the others wake up.”

April pulls away as Daryl has the same confused expression.

“How do ya know 'bout that, young lady?”

The little girl shrugs before running to the place where she was sleeping with Sam. Sure enough, the place is still silent, with soft breaths and some light snoring mixing together. His sleeping heart wakes frantically as Daryl stands up, sweeping some piece of hay from his body before opening the door of the cabin and closing it behind him, taking your profile a few steps away where the hill ends, framing the sunrise between two trees like a moving photograph, with Aeris in your hand until the falcon takes flight when Daryl approaches.

“That man ya said ya could see in me... do ya think ya could give him a chance, peach?”

Like a reflex, like a magnet that always draws you two together, you turn to see him and his body does the same, finding each other face to face.

Your gaze is confused, but always kind.

“What do you mean?”

“Peach…” His voice is low, a little nervous, and maybe even unsure because the constant fear of that wrong idea still looms before him, more fearsome than a walker, but Daryl has never been more sure of what he is about to ask of you. “Ya know I ain't good with words, but I want to tell ya that ya and April are ma family, the home I never thought I deserved. And s'kind of funny that the world had to go to shi–” Daryl decides to stop and use another word, just because his little girl doesn’t like bad ones. “That this new world had to start so I could find ya two, and I want to make things right if ya’ll have me.”

When Daryl pulls a ring out of his pocket, your breath seems to catch in your throat, and although your mouth threatens to fall open, you keep it closed while making the monumental effort to hold his gaze when his returns to yours.

“When did you get a ring?”

“Ya don’t want to know.” Daryl lets out a small laugh, shy and scared. “I want to be with ya and our baby girl for as long as we can live in this world, peach. I love ya for who ya are, for yer stubbornness and for yer strength, but also for how sweet ya are all the time, with our family and with me. I want to hug ya, kiss ya, hold yer hand and be able to be at least a little bit of that man ya always saw in me… I know we could die tomorrow but I hope not, I hope life gives us time to build somethin' for April, for us and for everyone. And yeah, I know I can be an asshole sometimes but I promise I’ll be better, and although I can’t promise ya a story like the books ya used to read, I can promise that I will love ya n' our kid for the rest of ma life.”

His words travel around the world and come back to your heart, overwhelmed by his sudden confession just when you had thought that you two would never, ever be together again. But as the day grows brighter and you take all in, so does the realization that there is only one answer to his question.

“Peach, could ya give me an asnwer, please? I’m dyin’ here.”

You chuckle, but as your eyes returns to him and a soft smile appears on your closed lips, you now know that what Jeff said was a lie—Daryl did love you, he always did, so much so that he walked away from you despite his own pain.

“Of course I’ll marry you, silly.”

Like the first breath of air after being submerged for too long, Daryl feels like he can breathe as he holds you in a hug after placing the ring on your finger, the warmth of your bodies recognizing each other after a long time. As if the world has been put on pause, everything feels infinite, erasing all traces of the pain of each other’s absence, leaving only the immense joy of being together when that was the only thing you two had ever wanted. And when you part slightly, his forehead rests against yours, his hand caressing part of your cheek and your hairline.

“You know I should make you beg, don’t you?” You’re playing and he knows it, and even though you squint in mockery as you pull away, Daryl can feel the relief tickling his chest.

“Yeah, I deserve it.”

“Yes, you do.” You nod, thoughtful. “And who would marry us anyways? Because it’s not like there are many priests in this world to officiate a wedding.”

Daryl nods, keeping an amused expression.

“We can ask Gabriel.”

You grimace.

“You sure? Because you told him religion was crap.”

Caught off guard, Daryl clears his throat.

“Or ya could ask him. Ya’re the nice one in this relationship.”

You shrug.

"I guess you're right. And I guess this will be the perfect excuse to find you a better shirt, maybe one with sleeves."

Daryl frowns.

"What? Woman, I wore ma best shirt the first time I asked ya out."

“Hi.” Your laugh catches in your throat as the male voice draws your attention, but as a reflect of his protectiveness, Daryl steps in front of you, his hand holding the gun that was always at his waist. “Hi! Sorry for scaring you like that, but I’m not the enemy, I promise.”

His words seem honest, but the muzzle of the gun is still pointed in his direction.

“What do ya want?” Daryl is calm, and his hand doesn’t tremble.

The young man raises his hands in a sign of peace, maintaining a friendly smile.

“My name is Aaron, and I’m looking for Rick. You two are his family, aren’t you?”

The silence falls heavy for a moment, until the chirping of birds breaks the strange spell, but Aeris’ singing voice draws your attention as she joins the melodious chorus for the first time—perhaps as a divine sign that things are finally about to get better.

@fluffy-dixon @stunkbiggu @kurogxrix @ffsjustletmesleep @kaz11283 @daryldixmedown @enretrogue

[oh-nostalgiaa]

Writing Prompt Masterlist, Part Five

Masterlist of Writing Prompt Masterlists

The Prompts

28 Days of Smut Prompts

50 Dialogue Prompts, Part Two

50 Vague Angsty + Hurt / Comfort Dialogue Prompts

50 Ways to Say I Hate You Prompts

79 Dialogue Prompts

After the Kiss Response Prompts

And They Were Roommates Prompts

Angst Prompts for All Your Heartbreak Needs

Angsty Dialogue Prompts

Angsty Sentence Starter Prompts

Arranged Matrimony for Royalty Prompts

Baby, It's Cold Outside Prompts

Best Friends to Lovers Prompts

Bubbly + Reserved Romance Dialogue Prompts

Childhood Exes to Lovers Prompts

Childhood Friends to Lovers (Reuniting & Reigniting) Prompts

Chilly Winter Prompts

Christmas Pick-Up Lines Sentence Starter Prompts

Comforting Sentence Starter Prompts

Confrontation Prompts

Dancing in the Rain Prompts

Death Prompts That Tore My Heart Apart

December Prompts

Defending the Right to Not Say Prompts

Dire Situations Prompts

Emotional Hurt / Comfort Prompts

Emotional Starters to Kick You in the Feelings Prompts

Extremely Self-Indulgent Prompts

Fan x Celebrity Prompts

Fluffy Moments Prompts

Gestures to Get You on Your Knees Prompts

Hand Touching Prompts

Heartbreak Sentence Starter Prompts

Hurt / Comfort Dialogue Prompts

Hurt / Comfort Dialogue Prompts, Part II

Hurt / Comfort Dialogue Prompts, Part III

Hurt and Comfort Dialogue Prompts

I Love You Prompts

Injured & Healers Prompts

January Prompts

Kiss Sentence Starter Prompts

Love Languages - Quality Time Prompts

Magic Fatigue / Exhaustion / Overuse Prompts

Meaningful Gestures Prompts

Modern Royalty AU Prompts

More Break-Up Dialogue Prompts

More Sick Prompts

More Teasing Dialogue Prompts

Mostly Angsty Drabble Prompts

Non-verbal Starter Prompts

Noticing / Being Noticed Prompts

One True Pairing Moments Prompts

Other Ways to Say I Love You Starter Prompts

Pain is Weakness Leaving the Body Prompts

Physical Contact Starter Prompts

Pillow Thoughts Prompts

Post-Breakup AU Prompts

Prompt List #1

Prompt List #2

Prompt List #3

Prompt Set 2

Prompt Set 3

Prompt Set 7

Prompt Set 8

Prompt Set 10

Prompt Set 18

Prompt Set 25

Prompts for Angsty Conversations

Prompts for Characters Who Are Slowly Falling in Love

Question Sentence Starter Prompts

Random Angsty Sentence Starter Prompts

Reunion After Physical Trauma Prompts

Romantic Date Dialogue Prompts

Roommates to Lovers (Who Are Scared to Confess) Prompts

Royal Arranged Marriage Dialogue Prompts

Royalty Dialogue Prompts

Royalty Forced Marriage to Actual Lovers Prompts

Scenarios with Undertones of Tension Prompts

Seduction Starter Prompts

Send a Number to Do X With Prompts

Set the Scene Prompts

Sexy / Suggestive Dialogue Prompts

Sinful Sentence Prompts

Six Word Sentence Starter Prompts

Softer Shippy Prompts

Spending Time Together Prompts

Super Soft Intimacy Prompts

Symbol Meme Starter Prompts

Tearful Goodbye Prompts

Teasing Prompts

Tired / Exhausted / Feeling Very Weak Starter Prompts

Tol & Smol Prompts

Valentine Interactions Prompts

Valentine's Day Prompts

Where to Land Prompts

Whump Dialogue Prompts

Words of Love Prompts

Worried Sentence Starter Prompts

Year of the OTP 2023 Prompts