#gonna stay away from the fandom for some time. you guys make my head ache.

[moonscradle]

all this!!!

people need to stop talking about the hornsent as if they’re a monolith who all think and believe the same things they were a complex society of human beings with subgroups who held a myriad of different cultural beliefs and practices some violent some beautiful just like any real actual society on earth do you realize this kind of thinking is how people justify mass killings in real life

[queentala]

PLEASE write something about cassian or Rowan helping reader on her period. Maybe she gets really bad cramps and can’t move

We're gonna do Rowan because the lack of Rowan x reader things in this fandom is unacceptable. Also because I love this guy ✌️

Sorry it took me so long but school, you know. Probably I’m going to public all my stories at weekends so you have to be patient. So Manon x f!reader and one more Rowan x reader coming out tomorrow! If you have any more requests, pls, write them. Anyways, enjoy <3

After pain, always comes comfort

Rowan Whitethorn x reader

As a Fae you get your period twice a year. Only twice! And fate decided that it'll happen on an important mission. To make it even better, Fae menstrual cycle is  way more painful and longer than human’s one. So after four days in the forest, away from any civilization and without access to hygiene products or pain relieving herbs you could easily say with no remorse that you were dying.   

Of course, you didn’t go on a mission alone. Together with your mate and two friends, Gavriel and Vaughan, you were sent to deal with skinwalkers that terrorized villages at the north of Wendlyn since few weeks. There were several dozen of them and it took you almost three weeks to kill them all and make sure people are safe. Finally, exhausted and battered you got on your way home but after two days of enjoining peaceful ride through beautiful lands of your country, your bleeding started.

During the first day you had to jump off your horse to vomit every half an hour. Your head, belly, breasts, legs ached. Everything ached. Next days weren’t very different. Rowan, your mate, your loving and caring mate, couldn’t bear the sight of you in pain. He even suggested for you to go to the nearest village and wait there till you’ll be able to function normally but you were desperate to get home as fast as possible and bury yourself under warm covers. Not wanting to argue with you, you kept going.

The nights were sleepless. You tossed and turned, not being able to find comfortable position, even in your lover’s arms. During days however you were trying so hard to not fall asleep. Ignoring yours comrades’ protests and offers to help you pretended to be fine. Well, as fine as woman on period can be.

Today you were literally unconscious. Fighting to keep your eyes open and stay straight in the saddle. Luckily your stallion sensed that you were sick and went nicely on his own, perfectly knowing the way home. You didn’t even noticed that you were sleeping on his neck until Rowan’s voice woke you up.

“Y/N, My Heart, we’re home” he said and touched your arm gently

Despite the pain, you straighten yourself slowly and opened your eyes. In front of you rose walls and gate leading to the castle. Immediately as you entered courtyard guards came up to you, ready to take care of your horses. You slide of your saddle but your legs refused to obey. Rowan ran to you before you could hit the ground. Gently he scooped you into his arms and started walking to the castle.

“Rowan I’m fine. We need to report to Sellene” you tried to protest and get on the ground but again, your body refused to work.

“Gavriel and Vaughan will report to her” you opened your mouth but he spoke again “Besides, Sellene is your friend and a woman. She also has problems like that so she will understand” he kissed your forehead and opened doors to your chambers. “And I have enough of seeing you suffer”

“I’m one of the greatest warriors of all times and the greatest female warrior ever. And I can’t even report to my queen because of some stupid stomach pain” you exhaled and laid your head on yours mate’s shoulder. “That’s pathetic”

“It’s not” Rowan sat you on your couch and started taking off your boots and jacket “It’s natural. And you know you only feel THAT bad because you were stubborn kid and refused to go to some village and stay there for few days. You’re not only on your period but also you’re exhausted and drained out of power”

“Shut up Buzzard”

He was right though. Your periods were always painful but most of the time you were able to do your job. This time even staying awake seemed impossible. Rowan stood up and left you curled up on soft pillows. Two minutes later you’ve heard running water. Once again you were lifted up and led to the bathroom. Rowan undressed you and gently set you in the bath.

You opened your eyes and looked at your mate. In his pine-green eyes you could see love. He was serious and dangerous warrior but he had soft side. Especially for you. His love. His world. His mate. And soon his wife. He took your hand in his. The delicate silver ring on your finger was designed to look like tree twigs. Between them shone little gemstone in color of your eyes.

“You are exhausted too Rowan” you kissed his hand “Join me?”

He undressed himself without a word and slipped behind you. Hot water with scented oils relaxing yours sore bodies. Rowan washed you as you dozed on his chest, finally feeling comfort after days of pain. You enjoyed his fingers gently massaging your body and scalp as he washed your hair. You sat there, loving each other’s company.

You loved being out. You loved fighting, helping and protecting those who needed it. Long rides trough the forest, campfires at night, celebrating a won war with the rest of the cadre and warriors closest to your heart. The blood of your enemies on your face and adrenaline filling your body. That’s what made you happy. But moments like that - moments spent in Rowan’s arms. Those moments kept you alive.

After bath you dressed in some comfortable clothes and your mate walked you to the dining room. The pain wasn’t as bad as before but it still was there. So after seeing that delicious dinner was already waiting for you together with chamomile tea and few chocolate muffins with raspberries and nuts you felt even better.

“Thank you Buzzard” you smiled and get on your toes to kiss him. It was slow and gentle, both of you smiling against each other

“For you, everything My Heart” he said kissing your nose and leading you to the table.

***

You were awakened by the rays of sun falling on your face. Your mate still asleep, held you tightly from behind, burring his face in your shoulder. This could be a perfect morning if not recurring pain and nausea. You wanted to move and ask maid for something to ease your pain but you failed. Instead you whined quietly. That was enough to wake your mate up.

He kissed your temple and immediately jumped out of bed. He came back minutes later with painkillers and warm tea. He slipped under covers again, sitting you against his chest and murmuring good morning.

“You know... I really hate my periods” you breathed sipping your tea

“Hm” once again Rowan buried his nose in your hair “You know... That because of those periods one day we might have a baby” You smiled at that. Plans about your future were discussed even before accepting the mating bond. And you knew Rowan wanted a family in the future so bad.

“Well, I guess I can bear this pain then” you bit gently on his neck “But only if you promise to stay with me through it”

“Always” he kissed you “I will always stay with you. To whatever end, My Heart”

[bloodsweatandpotato]

Day 11

Makeshift splint, Sloppy bandages

Fandom: Original work (Kieran and/or Cole)

Characters: Kieran, Cole

Tw: none? Idk

Summary: Kieran is emotionally unsettled after he has a nasty fall. Cole is doing his best to help his brooding friend. Also, not part of the summary but I haven’t written these guys in a while. I went back to my old art to get some references for the details and oh my god has my drawing improved. My old stuff honestly looks concerningly bad… I guess I really have gotten better at drawing humans since my first attempts lol.

“Are you going to say anything?”

Kieran remained silent. He glared at Cole (with the look somehow being just as effective with one eye instead of two).

“Come on,” Cole prodded. “It’s like we’re back to square one. Y’know I’m actually pretty sure you were more talkative when you first jumped me in the trees.”

Kieran still said nothing, but his lips twitched up slightly at the mention of their first meeting. Before everything, before their friendship, before Osiris and his gang carved Kieran’s eye out. Before Kieran had learned how to trust.

He imagined being this vulnerable with someone before meeting Cole, but couldn’t picture it. Couldn’t picture himself in the past, dressed in only a hoodie and boxers, his broken leg stretched out in front of him for anyone to touch, to hurt.

Kieran was snapped out of his thoughts by Cole plopping down next to him.

“What are you even pouting about?”

Kieran grumbled. “I’m not pouting.”

“Oh, sorry. I forgot you prefer the term ‘brooding’.”

Kieran elbowed Cole, and the brunet grunted in surprise and exaggerated pain. “Hey! Is that any way to treat the person who just saved your life?”

“Didn’t save my life.”

“I don’t know. I’m not a doctor but I’m pretty sure you actually need both legs to walk, or, well, climb. And it seems to me like you’d die if you stayed on the ground too long.”

Cole had meant it as a joke, a harmless jab at Kieran’s tendency to keep to the branches, both in times of danger and just as a way to relax. For Kieran, it cut just a bit too deep.

He couldn’t count how many times his inhuman climbing skills had saved him from death. From hiding from bandits and angry survivors, to clinging to the branches when flash floods decimated his camp (riverbanks were dangerous in the rainy season).

Kieran glared again, retreating further into himself.

Cole frowned, brows creasing in worry . “Hey, it was just a joke…”

“It’s not that.” Kieran lied.

“Oh… then what?”

“I… uh… leg hurts.” He muttered. It was true. The pain was constant and distracting (even if that wasn’t the source of Kieran’s foul mood).

“Oh, sorry. Stupid, should’ve thought of that.” Cole said, shuffling over to Kieran’s leg, inspecting the bandages for the fifth time. “You sure the bone is set right?”

“Yes.” He hoped. It wouldn’t heal right otherwise.

Cole adjusted the makeshift splint anyway. Kieran hissed in genuine pain, fingers digging into the grass.

“Shit, sorry.” Cole murmured. His fingers twitched over the bandages again, aching to do something more. “You sure the gash’ll be okay?”

“The yarrow should keep it from bleeding too much. Won’t get infected either.” Kieran knew that much. But it would leave a nasty scar.

“You sure there’s nothing else I can do to help with the pain?”

Kieran frowned, genuinely thinking. Cole’s restless tugging at the splint had brought back the pain he had been previously ignoring.

“Go cut me some more willow bark?”

“You gonna make more tea?” Cole asked, already standing up.

Kieran shook his head. “Just to chew.”

Cole hummed his understanding. “I’ll be right back. Glad to see you’re talking anyhow. You done with your brooding session?”

Kieran didn’t dignify the question with acknowledgment.

Cole walked away, disappearing into the trees, heading towards the riverbank where the willow grew.

Kieran sighed, feeling suddenly even more vulnerable with Cole out of sight. He was stuck, grounded, defenseless.

He closed his eyes, for once trying to focus on the pain. He would take any distraction from the thoughts.

[pearlsephoni]

Kagehina Celebration Week 2022, Day 2: Bed Sharing

Can also be read on AO3!

Rating: T

Fandom: Haikyuu!!

Pairing: Kagehina (Kagehina/Hinata)

Characters: Shoyo Hinata, Tobio Kageyama, cameos from the MSBY4

Word Count: 2,842

Summary: No amount of improved self-care can protect Shoyo from being taken down by a measly sinus infection. The last thing he needs is Kageyama's teasing. What he ends up getting couldn't be more different.

A/N: Sorry for how late this is getting to Tumblr! Hopefully you guys can enjoy despite kghn celebration week being long gone 😅 Further author’s notes can be read on AO3.

Shoyo wasn’t good at being sick. He was better than before he’d gone to Brazil, certainly, but no amount of knowing how much rest would benefit him could keep him from feeling restless in bed.

“Guys,” he croaked, listening to the bustle of his teammates in the kitchen, “I can get my own food and stuff!”

A resounding “NO!” hit him from the kitchen, making him wince at what his neighbors would think of the noise. Or maybe it was because of his headache.

Okay, so he felt like shit. He could at least admit that now, which was an improvement from yesterday, when he’d tried refusing to leave practice early despite his stuffy nose. He’d been sent home, stuffed into Sakusa’s car (a very pleasant surprise — not even his layered masks could take away from the thoughtfulness) and carted to a last-minute doctor’s appointment, where he got diagnosed with a sinus infection and received a prescription for some fast-acting antibiotics.

But those antibiotics still required three days of doses, plus a few day afterwards for them to run their course. Hinata could only hope he’d be allowed back into practice before he was back to 100%, or he’d be crawling out of his skin from a full week without volleyball.

He felt his eyes growing heavy despite wanting to at least stay awake for the guys to finish making him dinner. It was only Sakusa’s entrance that roused him from his doze. “Ah. Were you sleeping?”

“Mm…no,” Shoyo mumbled, shaking his head as though he could shake the drowsiness out. “What’s up?”

“Just clearing these out so you’ll have space for more later.” Sakusa collected the empty mugs from Shoyo’s bedside table and balanced them in his arms with surprising steadiness. “The others are almost done cooking. Do you need anything before eating?”

Shoyo began to shake his head, before he felt something outside of his stuffy nose, sore throat, and persistent headache. “Just the bathroom.” Sakusa looked panicked for a moment, looking from his full arms to Shoyo unsteadily standing up, and Shoyo couldn’t help laughing, “I don’t need help to go to the bathroom, Omi-san, I’m fine.”

“That wasn’t— I was just—” Sakusa gave up with a huff and marched back to the kitchen. “Fine.”

Shoyo hadn’t been lying — a sinus infection wasn’t going to make him need help just to walk around the apartment. But he did end up needing a bit more time in the bathroom than usual, the building pressure in his head making him move much more slowly, and by the time he shuffled back to his bedroom, Bokuto was sitting on his bed with a tray on his lap, carrying a steaming bowl of soup. He looked awfully serious about something before he noticed Shoyo and a smile split across his face. “There you are! I thought the soup would get cold before you could eat it!”

“Soup’s not gonna get cold in five minutes, Bokkun,” Atsumu sighed from where he lounged in the chair at Shoyo’s desk. He looked up from his phone to watch Shoyo as he climbed back into bed. “Everything alright?”

“Mm…yeah, just…everything hurts. And my nose is stuffy no matter how much I try to blow it.”

“Yeah, we can hear that.” The words were chuckled, but Shoyo could hear the undercurrent of concern in them.

“That’s what we made this soup for!” Bokuto declared. He’d stood up with the tray to let Shoyo climb under the covers, and now he carefully balanced the tray on his lap. “You can eat that and take some medicine!”

“Thanks, guys.” There was an ache in Shoyo’s throat that he couldn’t blame on sinus drainage. “I really appreciate all this.”

Atsumu let out a soft laugh as he stood up and began making his way to the bedroom door. “No need to thank us, we’re not being totally selfless here. We gotta make sure our greatest decoy is back out there before the next set of matches!”

For the first time that day, Shoyo felt a sharp grin pull at his lips. “I will be! I promise!”

It would never fail to pleasantly surprise him, how much his teammates really cared about him. He was used to having teammates that he could also consider a family of sorts, but that didn’t mean he appreciated them feeding him and cleaning up the kitchen for him any less. He’d told Kageyama all about the different ways his team was helping out, just to reassure him that he was “fine” and that “no, Tobio, you don’t have to come all the way from Tokyo.”

Speaking of. Shoyo glanced at his phone with a small frown. He hadn’t received any new messages from Kageyama since before dinner, and he’d said he would call sometime tonight. Maybe something had come up. He’d probably call later.

And then he didn’t.

Nor did he call the next morning. Shoyo didn’t bring it up — it didn’t really matter, especially when Kageyama was still texting him to check in — but it was a little unusual. It was the first time he’d missed a call without letting Shoyo know before or after.

Then a few hours passed, and Shoyo blinked awake from yet another nap (how was he sleeping so much and still feeling so crummy?) to find his phone screen empty of any text notifications from his boyfriend. The last message he’d received was a few hours ago.

Which was fine. It was fine. Maybe he had a morning practice that he hadn’t told Shoyo about. Things happened, things came up, and it was fine. He was fine. They were fine.

Never mind the fact that he huddled back under the covers with a frown, holding his phone up to his face as if staring at it would make new messages appear. He ended up dozing off to the sound of one of Kenma’s old streams and a distinct lack of messages from Kageyama.

As it turned out, he didn’t need to wait for a message at all.

“Shoyo?”

His eyes flew open, and his head swam from how quickly he sat up. “…Tobi?!”

Sure enough, his bedroom doorway soon framed the figure of Kageyama, a smirk on his face and a steaming mug in his hand. “Wow. You look like shit.”

“Thanks, asshole,” Shoyo laughed thickly. “What’re you doing here? What’s that? Here, lemme—”

He started pushing his covers off, only to be stopped by Kageyama’s firm, “Don’t! Don’t get up.”

Shoyo automatically fell back against his pillows, though not without a petulant pout. “I’m sick, Tobi, I don’t wanna get you sick, too.”

“Sinus infections aren’t contagious, dumbass.”

“How do you—?”

“Bokuto-san told me. He answered your phone when I called yesterday.”

“Wait.” Shoyo’s eyes widened for a moment before narrowing at Kageyama. “So you did call? You just talked to Bokuto-san instead?”

“Yeah?”

“Why didn’t you call again and actually talk to me?”

Kageyama blinked, his ears reddening as his perplexed silence stretched. “I…I was worried about you. I was focused on how I could help.”

Shoyo rolled his eyes before curling up under his covers. “That’s why I didn’t want the guys to say anything to you.”

“I would’ve known something was wrong the second I heard you talk. You sound like you have cotton balls filling your head.”

“Are you here to help me or bully me?”

“I can do both.” True to his word, Kageyama carefully perched next to Shoyo, running his free fingers through the ginger hair that peeked out of the covers. “C’mon, sit up and drink this while it’s hot.”

With a whine, Shoyo pushed himself upright again, grimacing at the way the pressure in his head seemed to intensify with the change in angle. He missed the concern in Kageyama’s eyes as he took the mug, and was startled when he heard, “That bad?”

“Yeah. But it’s only this bad for a day or two. And if the antibiotics work like they’re supposed to, I should be good to get back to practice on Monday.” He took a careful sip, and let out a content hum when he tasted tea with ginger and honey.

“Don’t push yourself, dumbass. Give yourself time to actually get better.”

Shoyo’s heart squeezed at the worry lining Kageyama’s face. He gently nudged him with his knee under the covers and smiled in what he hoped was a reassuring way, but was probably more teasing. “I know. Why can’t you believe I’m better at taking care of myself?”

Kageyama’s concern melted into annoyance, a sight Shoyo was much more used to. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

“Well…I guess that’s fine, if it means you’ll keep taking care of me like this.”

And now the annoyance turned into embarrassment. Shoyo could easily spend his whole day making Kageyama’s face flicker through the whole range of human emotion. “Shut up and drink your tea.”

“It’s yummy, thank you!”

“It’s not supposed to be yummy, it’s supposed to help your throat. Is it working?”

“I think so.”

“Good.” Kageyama sat there in a self-satisfied silence, watching Shoyo sip at his tea with a small smile. For someone who was so bad with words, Kageyama was rarely this quiet around Shoyo, especially with soft adoration etched into each line of his face. Shoyo loved it, felt his own adoration blooming in his chest until he couldn’t help but nestle close enough to rest his head on Kageyama’s shoulder. And Kageyama let him, staying completely still except to let his cheek pillow against Shoyo’s hair.

They stayed sitting like that until Shoyo finally finished his tea with a dramatic, “Ahhh! All done!” He met Kageyama’s mildly annoyed stare with a sunny smile as he handed the empty mug over. “Thanks, Tobi!”

“Mm. Are you hungry?”

“I guess I could eat.”

“Good. I got you ramen for lunch, and tamago kake gohan for dinner.”

“Really?!”

“Yeah. I would’ve made something, but I didn’t have time between practice and the train, and it would’ve been cold by the time I got here anyway. After you eat, you can have some cold medicine.” He patted Shoyo’s covered legs as he stood, only to be stopped by a hand around his free fingers. “What?”

“I wanna kiss you,” Shoyo said with a small pout, satisfaction bubbling up when Kageyama rolled his eyes and bent close enough for him to press their lips together. “Thank you, Tobio. Seriously. You didn’t have to do all this.”

“I know. But I wanted to.” With a final kiss and tiny grin, Kageyama made his way to the kitchen, leaving Shoyo to snuggle back under the covers and listen to the sounds of his boyfriend bustling around.

He liked to think he was pretty good about counting his blessings — he had a career he loved, all of his hard work towards his goals had paid off so far, he had a nice apartment, got along great with his team, had time to visit home at least once a month. And somehow, on top of all that, the universe also let him reunite with the man that he was increasingly certain was the love of his life.

Yes, he tried to stay aware of how good he had it. But that didn’t stop moments like this from taking his breath away with how lucky he felt. It made tears of joy prick at his eyes, and when Kageyama next poked his head into the room, it was to see Shoyo blowing his nose. “D’you wanna eat in here, or are you feeling up for getting out of bed?” he asked once Shoyo threw away the tissue with a bleary sniff.

“Can I eat in the living room? We’ve got a match against Raijin soon — I should watch some old games while I’m stuck inside.”

With that, Shoyo was soon set up on the floor with a blanket around his shoulders, his ramen steaming on the coffee table, and an old Raijin vs Falcons match on the tv. Kageyama was on the couch behind him, munching away at a pork onigiri from Onigiri Miya. As soon as they were both done eating, Shoyo crawled onto the couch, settled himself between Kageyama’s legs, and nestled into his chest. “Don’t get too comfortable,” Kageyama mumbled, despite his arms tightening around Shoyo. “You need to take some medicine while you’re full.”

“Mm…after the game.” He felt a sigh ruffle his hair, but Kageyama didn’t say anything else.

He didn’t end up getting any cough medicine. What he did get was an impromptu nap, and when he suddenly blinked awake to a blue light from the tv, he was also treated to the sound of a soft snore above his head. “Yama,” he groaned with a laugh, “Yama, wake up.”

Kageyama snapped awake with a snort and “…shit.”

“Good nap?”

“Shit,” he repeated instead of an answer. “So much for your medicine.”

“It’s ok, I think the broth helped clear my nose for a little bit.” When he pushed himself upright, he saw evidence of his nose clearing up, in the form of a dried patch of snot on Kageyama’s shirt. “…Oops.”

“Christ,” Kageyama muttered with a soft laugh. Without any further warning, he sat up just enough to strip the shirt off, leaving himself half-naked as he slouched back into the couch. His brows raised at the open appreciation on Shoyo’s face. “…Don’t even think about it.”

“I didn’t say anything!”

“You didn’t need to, perv! How are you horny when you’re sick?”

Shoyo shrugged with a beatific grin. “Well, my skin does feel eeeextra sensitive when I’m sick.” He let a hand drift up Kageyama’s torso as he spoke, until it came to a rest against his collarbones. Hope sparked in him when he felt a shudder run through Kageyama, but then his wandering hand was caught and pulled away.

“I’m not gonna let you suffocate and die because you wanted to suck me off while you had a stuffy nose.”

“Who said anything about me sucking you off?”

“And getting snot all over me isn’t my idea of a sexy time.”

“Boooooo, killjoy,” Shoyo grouched, slouching into a lump of sniffles and blankets.

“Just take your medicine, dumbass.” Kageyama got up, presumably to throw his shirt into the laundry and get the cough syrup. Shoyo tried to stay awake, he really did, and he even thought he was successful…until he woke up to fingers pinching his cheek. “Go to bed.”

“Owwww,” he whined, swatting at Kageyama’s hand. “Can’t you wake me up with a kiss or something? Akaashi-san never wakes Bokuto-san up with pinching.”

“Too bad I’m not Akaashi-san. Take this and go to bed.”

Shoyo frowned at the tiny plastic cup of cough syrup being shoved at him, but the sight of a glass of orange juice in Kageyama’s other hand motivated him to take the cup and tilt it all into his mouth in one go. His face immediately crumpled at the taste, and he started grabbing at the orange juice, ignoring the snort he earned as he finally snatched it. “God, that’s gross,” he sighed when he eventually lowered the glass. It was still half-full — it was impossible to properly chug with a stuffy nose.

“I’ve seen you put away shots that could be gasoline,” Kageyama scoffed. “Quit being so dramatic.”

“Quit being so mean.”

“Quit stalling and go to bed.” Kageyama plucked the half-empty glass from Shoyo’s hand and stared down at him with raised eyebrows.

Shoyo tried to stare him down in return. He didn’t last long. With a huff, he slouched his way off the couch and shuffled back to bed, unaware of how childlike he looked with his blanket wrapped around his shoulders and trailing after him on the floor.

He left his blanket strewn haphazardly at the foot of his bed as he climbed under the covers, ready to snuggle into Kageyama as soon as he joined him. Turned out, his body had different plans.

One moment, Shoyo was getting settled against his pillows. The next, he was blinking awake in a darkness that was only broken by the light sneaking in through his curtains. There was an arm draped heavy over his waist, a solid warmth against his back, and soft breaths tickling his neck. He tried to carefully turn over so he could snuggle closer to the warmth, but he’d barely even shuffled before he heard a low voice at his ear. “Morning, lazy.”

“It’s not morning,” Shoyo laughed quietly, flipping around more quickly now that he knew Kageyama was already awake. “And I’m not lazy, I’m sick!”

Kageyama just gave a noncommittal hum in response, but there was no mistaking the sleepy adoration lining his heavy-lidded gaze and soft smile. “Are you ready for dinner?” he asked, as though he weren’t burrowing deeper into his pillow and holding Shoyo a little tighter.

“Nah.” Shoyo nuzzled into the curve of Kageyama’s neck, brushing a kiss to the smooth skin. “Dinner can wait.”

[rpd-rookie]

The One Who Runs Away, The One Who Runs Back (Leon S. Kennedy x Reader)

Author’s note: This is a sequel to “A PAST WITH HER, A FUTURE WITH YOU” and the end of my three-parts fan fiction "I TRUSTED YOU WITH MY HEART" I decided to write after so many of you asked for it. Sorry it took so long but I was navigating from one fandom to another. (BTW, if there are any Devil May Cry fans up here, you can read my DMC fan fictions here) PS: Even if I said it before, I have no hate whatsoever towards Ada or Aeon.

Tagged: Angst, Fluff, Romance, Post-Break up, Sexual Content 

Part 1 / Part 2

***

Do you remember? We started this story by quoting some sitcom character that was clueless about love. Well, here’s a suggestion. Why not ending it by quoting someone who knew a little more on such matter.

William Shakespeare - you know that English dude expert on tragic ‘drink this poison, stab yourself’ kind of love - apparently once said ‘Love runs away from those chasing her, and those who run away, she throws herself on his neck’. I say ‘apparently’ cause, even though I have a master in English lit, this quote is from the internet, and also … who knows what the guy truly said?

But it’s the quote that’s important. Not the author. The quote it’s important because it sums up perfectly how this story is gonna end. However, before starting, let me tell you this quote is going to be the only Shakespeare-worthy sentence in this final chapter. You’ve been warned.

Love runs away from those chasing her.          Well, this part was definitely written for someone like Ada Wong. Owner of countless gold medals and possibly a world record at this point, that woman is basically the Usain Bolt of the ‘Running from Leon S. Kennedy’ competition. Unchallenged winner since the creation of this sultry version of cat and mouse game, it’s better not to think about the number of times she successfully ran away from her favourite agent.  But this year, this formidable titleholder in a gorgeous red dress will have to face her Nemesis in the championship. You. Though the comparison to the hideous bio-organic killing machine might not be very complimentary to you but you get the idea.  This year you enter the Kennedy Olympics. And this year you run like Sonic the Hedgehog and you win the damn competition (screw you Usain Bold!). And you do this with your head high and without an ounce of regret. Ignore all the texts and flowers Leon might send on your track Mario Kart style. His gifts are not as slippery as banana peels and they can easily be dodged, I promise. Well, most of the time, when you’re not lying on your bed in the middle of the night crying and sobbing while reading his messages or playing his voice in your voicemail again and again until you’re nothing more but a giant mess with puffy red eyes drowning in a puddle of your own tears.        Screw those messages too! And screw his broken yet terribly sexy voice as well!

Being a man of word, Leon kept his promise. And for months you kept on running peacefully, marathoning away from this past relationship that had destroyed you like no other before while tranquilly fixing your broken heart on the way. That run was a good cardio.

But sometimes, cardio is not enough, and even just the small sight of an overpriced whisky bottle or the smell of Leon’s perfume on some guy’s clothes is enough to reopen your wounds.           And when it happens, you always do the same thing, you break the damn bottle - and run cause damn! it’s expensive! -  or you tell the guy his perfume smells like cheap cologne and that he should definitely change it, which is an improvement on your past destructive behaviour, since there was a time shortly after the break up when you would have simply dragged the guy to your place to let him fuck you senseless while imagining he was Leon. All that just for the illusion to feel him again and for the sake to kick him out the next morning, screaming like a hysterical psycho.

So imagine, for a small second, the wave of intense feelings surging out of your healing heart when, in the middle of a cafe, you hear some dude sitting behind you ordering Leon’s favourite whisky while wearing the same bloody perfume. “It’s got to be relentless persecution at that point!” You sigh, already annoyed, closing your book more violently than intended. Hope you’re ready, stranger! Because you’re not in the mood to deal with this right now.            You turn around with a fake smile that reflects perfectly your irritation, ready to give him hell, your sharpest riposte already burning your tongue. After all, he deserves it and you can’t help it.         But when you meet familiar – and freaking gorgeous - baby blue eyes you freeze and stare, suddenly confused and lost and refusing to believe that in spite of the intense running, love just jumped at your neck after all and it was sitting there, taking the shape of Leon S(tupid) Kennedy.

You should have stood up and left, run for your life, run for your heart. And yet, you didn’t.    You stayed there staring at him looking at you, allowing all your memories, the good ones and the bad ones, all your buried feelings to come back from the dead, embracing them as if you had missed them, which, let’s be honest, you probably had.            You tried to scream to yourself “Come on, Y/N! Shake a leg!” but it seemed that what you brain understood was something like “Cum on him! Open your legs!” as a couple of blurry hours later, you were on Leon’s bed, legs wide open, screaming his name and begging him not to stop his amazing thrusts.

Six months, you ran for six months … Well, looks like the run ends here and now. After a minute-long deep stare, an afternoon of amazing sex and two hours long of something blurry in between.

“I missed you.” And there you were! The moment all couples that broke up have after one of them (in this case Leon with the infamous ‘I missed you line’) starts to believe they miraculously rekindled their love. The fatal post-coital cuddling session that you don’t know how to react to, as you think of all the possibilities before you.      Possibility Number 1) You tell Leon you missed him too and cuddle, enjoying that embrace you secretly yearned for months. But that includes forgetting what he has done or pretending that nothing happened.     Possibility Number 2) You push him away, get dressed, leave again and act as if this afternoon never happened. But if Leon doesn’t remind you of it, the ache between your legs will, that’s for sure!   Possibility Number 3) You jump him again until you sore even more and hope that you’ll be able to leave afterwards.         Frankly, all possibilities suck because, in all cases, it seems like you lose. Since,       with Possibility Number 1) you lose the run forever, with Possibility Number 2) you lose him again and with Possibility Number 3) well it’s result 1 or 2 + your body aching like crazy for days. I suck at math but no need to be Einstein to know the result of this calculation looks unpleasant.    So what do you choose?

You see a triangular dice rolling in your head, showing a never-ending succession of 1, 2 and 3 that doesn’t make any sense and that confuse you even more than you already are. 1, 2, 3, 2, 1, 3, 2 ! Oh for fuck’s sake!

You grimace, angry and pissed at Leon and probably even more at yourself, and finally leaves his bed and his strong warm arms, feeling the tears furiously forming in your eyes. “I can’t” You can’t look at him in the eyes. You don’t want to see his confusion, don’t want to see his pain as he witnesses all his hopes shatter to pieces.         “ What do you mean?” You can hear the sheets crease behind you, alerting you of Leon’s agitation, so you hurry and pick up all your clothes scattered in his room. You must leave, now. 2! 2 it is!  “This! All This! This afternoon never happened.” You tell him, putting on your clothes with sudden clumsy and trembling hands, not caring if your bra is correctly hooked or if you put your shirt on back to front. Your heart. You have to think of your poor heart first.          “Hey, hey, hey.” You feel Leon’s hand softly grabbing your arms and you let go of whatever you were holding right now. His voice is sweet and trying to be comforting. Don’t look at him Y/N! Don’t look at him! “Look at me.” You do. Damn it! And you see his gorgeous blue eyes staring at you, studying your flustered face and the tears slowly drowning your (colour) look. You missed those eyes. You missed them so.damn.much ! As much as you missed his hands cupping your face and his thumbs wiping up your tears. God! How many tears those thumbs have missed recently. “It’s alright.”

You want to believe him. You really do. But there is this voice screaming in your head and very clearly this time. A voice shouting, forcing you to remember that night, that awful nightmarish night, the one when you felt your heart break and your dreams turn to ashes. All that because of him and his obsession for her.

“No, it’s not alright, Leon.” You shake your head and miraculously manage to take a small step back. You never thought you could. But you had to. You can’t stay close to him. You can’t let him touch you, feel you. Not if you want to run away. And you have to run away. Like her! Like Ada. Ada! “I told you. For as long as you have feelings for Ada, I can’t … we can’t…”     “Please don’t talk about her.” He begs and rubs his hand over his face. Is he trying to chase her away from his mind? Is she still in here? Please, let her not be in here.    “But she’s the reason we’re in this situation now. She’s the reason why we’re in this mess.” You insist only for the sake to see his reaction when you mention Ada, to see if she’s still under his skin, somewhere. “Ada is not the reason. I am!” Leon corrects you, a finger directed at his heavy chest as he is putting the full blame on himself for the first time since that night. “I am the one who went after Ada when I shouldn’t have! I am the reason why we broke up! I am the reason why we are so miserable!”         “But I was fine!” You shouted back in an attempt to show him he was wrong refusing to listen to that part of you who knew he was completely right. You were miserable without him. “I was doing fine until you came back and fucked everything up! I was healing goddamnit!”             You felt new tears rolling along your red cheeks and quickly wipe them off with the back of your hand that felt so callous and rough in comparison to Leon’s gentle touch. “You can’t just jump back into my life like this and expect me to forget!”

Leon nods, agreeing with you in a certain way. But the truth is, he doesn’t want you to forget. He doesn’t expect you to erase his mistake. He just wants you to forgive him … No, he just wants you to come back to him. Period. And that’s got to be what you want to. It has to!   “So why did you have sex with me, huh?” He finally asks even though he already knows your answer. “Tell me!” You’re not the kind of person who has meaningless sex, not the kind of person who worships one’s body with divine kisses and devoted caresses if they mean nothing. “Why did you have sex with me?” And yet the answer he wishes to hear doesn’t come out. “For fuck’s sake Y/N! Answer me! Why?” He shouts making you shiver and cry even more.    “Because I LOVE YOU!” You finally scream. And it hurts. It hurts but it feels good too. Like a weight lifted off your chest. “Because I missed you too! Because those months without you have been terrible! Because I don’t know how to handle even just the thought of you or the sound of your voice in my voicemail. Because each time I see something that makes me think of you, I’m a mess and I do things that normal me would never do! You fucked me up, Leon! You fucked me up but I love you! And I hate to love you!” You grunt in pain and relief, enraged but happy that you finally let everything out. And Leon listens in silence, frozen by your powerful honest confession. But he doesn’t know how to react. He doesn’t know what to say. Part of him is overjoyed, ecstatic that you still love him but there is another part that just feels terrible, sorry for the pain your love for him caused you even in his absence.   “But you see—“ You continue “That’s the problem in our relationship, Leon! I love you in ways that are so intense, that go beyond sanity. And you love me by half.”    You see him crumple, his horrified face looking suddenly very pale as if he had just heard some dreadful news. Is that really how you feel? Is that how you see his love for you? Is that what he has made you believe?         “Goodbye Leon.”

With the full intention to leave Leon’s place for good and never come back, you grab you bag on your way out of the bedroom while carelessly shoving your underwear inside of it since you forgot to put them on in the midst of panic and precipitation. Get out of here, Y/N! Now! A reasonable voice encourages you. Listen to me!    But this not what Leon wants.

“I never loved you by half.” He declares and you abruptly stop, asking God if he’s some kind of sadist that loves seeing you in pain from the comfort of his divine sofa somewhere in heaven. “Never.” But it’s not God and his sadism that makes you turn around. It’s you, and your masochist love for that blue-eyed man before you.     “I don’t believe you” Your voice almost doesn’t leave your throat as you try not to sob.           “But it’s the truth.” He says with a calm soothing voice as he slowly approaches you. “I never imagined my future with Ada. I never wished to grow old with her or build a home with her.” You want to tell Leon to stop talking, to stay where he is but your body doesn’t seem to respond. And when you feel him grabbing your hands in his and the comforting warmth that goes with that simple touch, you know that leaving is now an almost impossible task. “Yes. I admit it. My feelings for her were real.” Even when his honesty hurts you, you don’t know how to leave anymore. “But they were nothing in comparison to what I feel for you.”     You try to let go, pulling your hands away from his loving grip but he holds you back. And you’re not strong enough. Or maybe, you just don’t want to be strong. Everything is so confusing. Everything is tearing you apart.     “But they’re still here, aren’t they?” You question, hoping his answer might give you a clue, might give you the strength to make the correct decision. Do you leave? Or do you stay? “And they’ll keep coming back each she goes back into your life. You can’t let go of her.”    “You’re maybe right.” His words hurt you more than you thought they would. They hurt like hell because you realise there are not the ones you wanted to hear. You wanted to hear him say that he would let go of Ada, for good, for you. You wanted to hear that because deep down … YOU WANTED TO FUCKING STAY! “But can you let go of your past?” He continues and you shake your head refusing to hear any other word coming out of Leon’s mouth.       “Don’t!” You beg, weary.           “No! Listen to me this time. Ada is my past, Y/N. She’s my past. And you … you’re my future. You’re my life, damn it!” He doesn’t cry but you don’t need his tears to sense how emotional and how honest he is. And suddenly, you just want to listen to him. “And I was a fool not to see it sooner. When you left me, I felt a void I had never felt in my entire life. I felt like a part of me was missing. And then, the bombing in Washington happened, and it was like I had nothing left. I needed you. I wanted you. You. Not Ada.”      “Leon” You whisper and he cups your face again, blue eyes staring deep into yours, allowing you to see everything in him, his strong love for you and all the weaknesses he hated to admit. “It was you in my mind. Only you. And it will always be you. Because I love you. Now. Today. And I will always love you.”

You cry even more, uncertain if those tears are tears of sorrow, tears of joy or a mix of both. God, how can your emotions be such a mess right now? How can you be wishing to shout at him with all the anger you’ve accumulated and, at the same time, willing to kiss him with all love you’ve got?

“If you got to believe something. Believe that. And if that’s not enough and you think you can be happy with someone else. Then go. I won’t hold you back.” You frown. He is fucking lying. You’re sure of it. “You can’t stop running after me and you know it.” He smiles and scoffs, sensing that hint of sudden defiance in your tone he enjoys a lot.  “True. I can’t sop running after you. But I’ll do my best not to catch you if that’s what you want. But you got to tell me. Is that what you truly want?” You don’t reply. Truth is, you’re not sure what to say not because you’re not sure that’s what you want but because you’re not sure you can trust him if you let him in again.                        “No.” You whisper. “No, that’s not what I want. I want you. All of you.” You can see Leon struggle to contain his growing joy as it starts to glimmer brighter and brighter in his irises. He doesn’t want to cry victory just yet. He is cautious and rightfully so. “But can I?”        “Want me?” He smiles. “ Have you completely?” You correct, searching for a promise in his eyes, one you hope, you wish he would not break this time.     “Trust me with your heart again and find out.”

This better not hurt this time…

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Dragons Can Be Nice

Prompts: Hello, first off I adore your writing, your stories are among my favorites for this fandom. I have a prompt (but you can feel free to ignore). Can you write some hurt/comfort for character!Thomas? Maybe with him getting stuck/hurt in the Imagination? - anon

Okay I’m not sure about the context but I saw an ask you answered about “what are the dragons names” or something, and I got a flashbulb image of the sides finding a bunch of baby dragons. Just a lot of fluff and baby dragons. Big happy dlampr (platonic/romantic/weird grey area) with a bunch of baby dragons. Janus bleping at the baby dragons. If in canonverse, the imagination is overrun with baby dragons and c!t has some dreams featuring baby dragons. Just. Baby dragons. - anon

*pokes head out* did someone say dragon fluff?

Read on Ao3

Warnings: mild supernatural horror, like really really mild

Pairings: this is platonic all the way down, babes

Word Count: 4481

In a lot of stories, dragons are mean. They kidnap princesses, they hoard gold, they kill knights, they destroy towns. They are evil and scary and not at all what you'd like to run into on a dark night, on your own, far away from help. Witches are very much the same. Dragon witches, then, must be the worst.

But maybe there can be nice dragons, too.

When Thomas was little, he used to spend much more time in the Imagination. Which was good! He likes seeing the things that Roman makes, Roman is really good at his job. His favorite is the big forest because the trees are so tall they look like they go on forever. Logan says they don’t and Logan is really smart but sometimes it looks that way. Roman likes leading Thomas around the forest on their adventures because then they’ll always run into the others too!

Virgil likes sitting near the caves because it’s quieter there and he can play with the rocks. Sometimes he’ll find Virgil near the river. The river wears the rocks nice and smooth and they look so shiny when they come out of the water. Sometimes if it’s really hot he can get Virgil to throw him in the water. Apparently, kids are supposed to like being thrown at things? Logan had some explanation for it but Thomas doesn’t remember.

Janus also likes being in the caves. Janus is…scary sometimes. Thomas has to think really hard when he’s around Janus. And not like how Logan is really smart and makes Thomas smarter by talking and teaching him, but Janus is…tricky. He likes Janus, but sometimes Janus makes his head hurt. He has this smile that he does that makes Thomas feel really small. Patton says Janus cares about him and he wants to believe Patton but sometimes it feels weird. He did tell Janus that one time when he accidentally got lost and started crying when he didn’t know where to go. Janus found him and smiled that smile and it made him cry more so he stopped. He was really nice when Thomas explained that he was lost and scared and cuddled him until Roman came to find him. Janus is a lot nicer after that.

Logan doesn’t always come on their adventures. Roman says that’s ‘cause Logan is boring but that’s not true! (Thomas is pretty sure Roman doesn’t actually think that Logan is boring, he just likes to say it because it makes Logan tease him back.) Logan is really cool, he knows so many things and he’s really good at what he does. When he comes on their adventures, he likes to be the royal advisor. He says that’s the person that tells the prince what to do. Or sometimes he likes to come along to observe the plants. He does experiments in his room that he doesn’t let Thomas see all the time because it’s dangerous. But he does let Thomas help! That’s always nice.

Patton stays home when they adventure most of the time unless they’re going on a picnic. Picnics days are the best days because Roman always makes sure the weather is really nice. Well, except that one time where there was a really far away thunderstorm. Logan said it was because the forest needed a drink which is fair, but the sky had turned purple and it was a bit colder. But then the sunflowers had come out and it was really pretty. But when they’re not on picnics, Patton makes dinner for them so it’s ready when they come back.

Roman has a brother! He does other things in the Imagination, Thomas doesn’t really know what. His name is Remus, and sometimes he comes to play the bad guy when Roman has an adventure. Watching them fight is really cool and it’s Thomas’s job to sneak around while Roman distracts Remus so they can trap him! Remus isn’t really a bad guy, he just likes to mess with his brother sometimes. Thomas gets it. Remus is really good at making sure Thomas is okay, even when he’s being the bad guy. Even when Thomas gets captured he’s really nice. One time he scooped Thomas up when Roman was playing prince with the villagers and carried him away to be ‘kidnapped’ except they just ate ice cream until they got stomach aches. Patton wasn’t very happy that they ruined their dinner appetites but Remus said they just filled up their dessert bellies first so it was fine.

Thomas likes going into the Imagination but he’s always supposed to be with someone. It’s normally Roman, sometimes it’s Logan, sometimes it’s Remus. They’re normally free the most and know the Imagination the best. But sometimes none of them are free and he can’t find anyone else. So he…sneaks in.

It’s fine! He doesn’t go far! He just…sometimes he wants to say hi to the villagers. They’re really nice too and they don’t tell on him when he sneaks in and he’s not supposed to be there. One time he got an entire loaf of bread all to himself and ate it in four big bites.

So he goes in the big red door and just starts walking. He knows where he’s going to get to the pond and he’s not going far. It’s just over the hill. So he walks over the hill. The grass is so green and tall here. He gets to the top of the hill and looks down.

That’s weird. The pond isn’t here.

He shrugs and starts down toward the tall grove of trees. It’s probably just inside the forest and he forgot. The trees are still really tall. So tall he can barely tell which one is the top of which trunk. He pats the trunks as he walks past, saying hello to each tree. When the trees start to grow closer together, he stops patting them, using his hands to push his way around them.

It’s getting darker. Logan says that’s because when the trees grow close together, their leaves form a layer called the canopy, which blocks out a lot of light. Thomas keeps going, frowning as it starts to get colder. Maybe he should’ve brought a jacket.

It’s really dark. Thomas is starting to wish he’d maybe not gone into the forest. Maybe he should’ve just sat on the hill where he could still see the door. But the pond can’t be that much further, he can get there. And then he won’t be scared.

Not that he’s scared!

It’s really cold too. Maybe he should’ve brought a coat. He shivers as he pushes his way around another tree. It’s getting so dark he can’t see very far in front of his face. He almost walks into a tree.

…okay, maybe he should turn around and go back.

He turns around.

And around.

And around.

The trees all look the same.

Which way did he come from?

He…he doesn’t know.

Wait, which way was he going?

Thomas spins in the darkness of the trees, searching for something to tell him where he’s supposed to go.

Something snaps.

He freezes, eyes darting around. He can’t see anything.

The forest is silent. Not even the wind makes a noise. His breathing starts to pick up.

Leaves rustle to his left. His head jerks around, straining to see. There’s nothing but the still trunks, nothing but the quiet shifting sound of twigs.

M-maybe if he just picks somewhere to go, eventually he’ll make it out of the forest. And then he can get someone to help him figure out where to go. It’s gonna be fine. He has a plan, he knows what he’s going to do.

The second he takes a step forward, something cracks loudly in the trees.

Roman said that there were big animals in the forest. Remus said there were monsters in the forest. Logan said there was no such thing as monsters.

But Logan isn’t here.

Thomas turns around and starts walking the other way. He’s not going to go toward the big sound. He’s going to go this way instead because that’s his decision, not anyone else’s. And that’s what he wants to do.

The cracking behind him gets louder.

Roman said there was something that he fights that Thomas isn’t allowed to help him fight. It’s too dangerous. It’s big.

The thing behind him sounds big.

Thomas starts walking faster.

Roman said that it wasn’t something Thomas had to worry about.

Another twig snaps and it sounds closer.

Thomas starts running.

Remus said that it was really big. Bigger than the castle Roman built. Remus said it was really scary. That it had sharp claws and big teeth and—and—

Thomas runs around the trees as the snapping and crackling get closer and closer. His chest hurts from breathing so heavily. But he can’t stop. It’s getting closer.

He wants Roman. He wants Remus. He wants someone.

Please, someone, come help.

Behind him, he hears a snarl.

“The Dragon Witch,” Remus says softly, as they wait for Roman to come rescue Thomas, “she’s nasty. Like…nastier than me nasty.”

“But you’re not nasty, Remus, not really.”

“You’re sweet, you little sewer rat, but I mean it. She’s really not nice.” Remus looks at him and Thomas scoots backward. Remus doesn’t have his pretend bad guy face on, he looks really serious. “If you ever think she might be close to you, run. Okay?”

“O-okay.”

Thomas runs.

He runs faster and harder than he ever has in his life and behind him, he thinks he can hear the slither of scales and the scrape of claws as it chases after him. He thinks he can smell the smoke curling out of its nostrils as it finds him in the forest. He thinks he can feel the hot breath of a drooling mouth on his back.

He runs.

He trips.

He falls.

No, no! No, no, no, he has to run, he has to go—he has to get out of here, the—the Dragon Witch is going to get him, he doesn’t want the Dragon Witch to get him, he—oh, why didn’t he just stay out of the Imagination?

And why did they have to watch Sleeping Beauty for movie night?

The memory of Maleficent as the giant dragon on the cliff, breathing fire at Prince Phillip as he tried to fight it off fills his head and Thomas whimpers, curling into a tight ball and pressing himself against a boulder. If he’s really quiet, maybe—maybe it won’t find him.

Fear grips his chest and he curls tighter, maybe that will keep it inside. The rock starts to hurt where it presses against his skin. It’s cold.

He thinks he can hear the Dragon Witch getting closer.

Don’t find me, don’t find me, please don’t find me.

“Thomas? Thomas, where are you?”

Thomas’s breath catches in his throat. Is that—is that Roman?

“Thomas?” It is Roman! “Thomas, it’s dark out, I need you to help me find you, where are you?”

“R-Roman?”

“Thomas!”

In a blur of red and white, Thomas sees Roman rushing out of the trees, looking frantically around for him. He stands shakily, crying out as he leans against the boulder.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Roman pants, smiling as he hurries over to him, “you’re alright, good, come here—“

“I’m—I’m sorry, Roman, I—“

“Shh, shh, shh, it’s okay, sweetheart, you’re okay, that’s what’s important,” Roman coos as he scoops Thomas into his arms, “come on, let’s get you back home.”

And now that Roman is here and he’s carrying Thomas there’s no way the Dragon Witch could be here. Because Roman is here and Roman will keep him safe. The fear in his chest suddenly makes him really cold. He buries his face in the crook of Roman’s neck and holds on tight, stammering out another apology as he starts to cry.

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” he hushes, “you’re safe now, I’ve got you. Come on, we’re almost there, the others are worried.”

He feels bad, he didn’t want to make everyone worried.

“None of that,” comes the gentle chide, “we’re always going to worry about you, you’re our Thomas. Let’s get you back safe and we’ll get you something to eat, hmm?”

“O-okay.”

He hooks his chin over Roman’s shoulder and holds on, letting the soft swaying of Roman’s walk soothe some of his fear away. Sooner than he expected, he feels the air change from the chill of the Imagination to the warmth of the apartment.

“Thank goodness, you found him.”

“Is he alright? Is he hurt?”

“Guys, be quiet, he’s tired.”

Thomas cracks an eye open and accidentally makes eye contact with Janus. He flinches away and cuddles closer to Roman.

“Shh, it’s okay,” Roman soothes, “you’re safe now.”

“He’s hurt,” Logan says softly, somewhere out of sight, “Remus, can you go get the first aid kit?”

“On it.”

“Patton, I don’t believe Thomas has eaten recently, you and Virgil—“

“We’re going.”

“We’ve got some pasta left.”

“Thomas?” Logan lays a warm hand on his back. “Can you hear me?”

Thomas nods, his cheek rubbing against the trim on Roman’s shoulder.

“Roman has to go close the door to the Imagination and I’m going to take a look at your ankle. He’s going to have to put you down, alright?”

“Janus,” Roman murmurs, “here—“

“I’ll take him.”

Thomas isn’t proud of the way he clings onto Roman tightly when he tries to set him down.

“It’s alright, sweetheart, it’s just Janus.”

He bites his lip as Roman eases him into Janus’s arms, squeezing his eyes shut.

“Don’t,” comes the quiet voice, as a gloved hand pats his cheek, “you’ll hurt yourself, sweetie.”

Thomas opens his eyes and Janus lifts his chin, smiling softly when he sees Thomas’s eyes are wet with tears.

“Hello, sweetie,” he murmurs, cupping his cheek and pulling him closer on his lap, “just sit with me for a moment, hmm? Logan’s going to have a look at you and then we’ll get you something to eat.”

“A-are you mad?”

Janus tilts his head. “Should we be mad?”

“I’m—I’m sorry—“

“I didn’t ask that,” he corrects softly, his hand still gentle on Thomas’s face, “I asked if we should be mad.”

Thomas gulps. “I…I went into the Imagination when I wasn’t supposed to. I did something you told me not to do.”

“You did.”

“I…I messed up.”

“You did,” he repeats, softer this time, “and then what happened?”

“I—I got lost and it was dark and it got really cold and I thought something was chasing me so I—I ran away and then I fell and it—it hurt and I—I—I’m sorry—“

“You’re scaring him, Janus,” Logan interrupts, sitting down on the other end of the couch.

“Hush, sweetie,” Janus murmurs, pressing a kiss to Thomas’s forehead and pulling him close for a cuddle, “let Logan look at your ankle.”

Logan’s warm hands are practiced as they check his leg. It hurts a little but he can still move it fine. He can’t stop looking warily at Janus, though.

“He’s not going to calm down until you tell him we aren’t mad,” Logan says patiently, wrapping an ice pack around his ankle.

“W-what?”

Janus kisses his forehead again. “No, sweetie, we’re not mad,” he says softly, “it’s true, you shouldn’t have gone in there alone, but you know that and nothing extremely bad happened.”

Thomas gulps.

Janus frowns, pulling back a little. “Thomas? Did something happen?”

“Janus, don’t scare him.”

Janus closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. “I’m not mad, Thomas. But you should tell us what happened.”

“There,” Logan says, patting Thomas’s knee, “all better. I’m going to go put the first aid kit away, I’ll be back.”

He passes Roman on the way out. Roman smiles and comes over to crouch down next to the couch, ruffling Thomas’s hair.

“Better?”

“Mhm.”

“Then why do you still look like someone told you Disney is never making another movie?”

Thomas shifts in Janus’s arms. “I…I thought the Dragon Witch was chasing me.”

Roman inhales sharply. “The Dragon Witch?”

Thomas nods, tears brimming at the corners of his eyes again, only for Janus to pull him into a proper hug, tucking his face into the softest part of his shoulder and rubbing his back firmly.

“Shh, shh, sweetie,” he whispers, “you’re safe, it’s alright, I’m sorry, that must’ve been so scary.”

Thomas clings onto Janus and cries. Roman’s hand lands in his hair after a moment, stroking gently through the strands and scratching lightly at his scalp.

“It’s alright, sweetheart,” he hears, “you’re safe, you’re safe, you’re alright, we’ve got you now.”

“Was--was the Dragon With re—really after me?”

“No, sweetheart, you know I’d never let that happen to you. She’s far away, far, far away, near where Remus’s side of the Imagination is. There’s no way she would be able to get to you, sweetheart, never in a million years. We’ll keep you safe, you know we will.”

“P-promise?”

“I promise.”

Thomas holds tightly to Janus’s cloak as he turns back around to look at Roman. Roman smiles and ruffles his hair again.

“You still look afraid, sweetie,” Janus says quietly, “is there something else?”

“I jus’—the—dragons are scary,” Thomas mumbles, twisting the hem of his shirt in his hands. “I don’t…don’t wanna have nightmares.”

Roman makes a soft noise of understanding. “Dragons don’t all have to be scary,” he says softly, “there can be plenty of nice dragons too.”

“Really?”

“Sure.” He turns to see Logan coming back in. “Logan, there can be nice dragons too, right?”

Logan blinks. “Yes, theoretically, there can be both nice dragons and dragons that aren’t nice. Why do you ask?”

His gaze lands on Thomas and his face softens. Logan’s really smart.

“Ah, I see.” He comes back to sit on the couch. “Most dragon young are quite nice.”

“They are?”

“In most versions of dragon mythology,” Logan says softly, “dragons are born from eggs like most reptiles are. The mother lays her eggs in her nest, often in a cave or somewhere else dark and safe, and guards them until they hatch.”

He cups his hands together in front of him.

“Most of the pups are about this big when they’re first born and their scales still haven’t hardened yet. The scales harden after about a week, once the dragons’ body has finished solidifying.”

“Solid—what?”

“Solidifying. An egg is only so big, little one, fitting an entire dragon pup inside one is no small feat. Do you remember trying to stuff all the LEGOs back into the bag they came out of?”

“And missing like…four,” Roman huffs, “yes, Logan, we remember.”

“If the LEGOs could bend—which they can’t, so don’t ask,” Logan says, narrowing his eyes at Roman, “it would be easier. Dragon scales don’t harden fully until they’re out of the egg and they never need to go back in.”

“So…they’re…soft?”

“Smooth, perhaps, I don’t know about soft.” Logan shifts to ease a cramp in his leg. “Dragon pups are also very curious, according to most of the literature surrounding them, they love exploring. From most of the stories, they are very friendly as well.”

“See?” Roman pats his shoulder. “Nice dragons.”

“Nice dragons,” Thomas repeats, his eyes starting to droop.

“Don’t fall asleep just yet, sweetie, let’s get you something to eat.”

Thomas sits at the table with everyone else, eats his food, and lets Remus scoop him up and carry him to bed once it’s clear he won’t stay awake through dessert.

“There we go,” Remus says softly, getting him tucked into bed, “all better now. Your ankle okay?”

“Mhm.” Thomas blinks sleepily up at him. “Tired.”

“Well, yeah, I bet.” Remus pats his head. “You go to sleep now, okay?”

“R-Remus?”

“What’s up, little sewer rat?”

“C-Can you stay? Just for a bit?”

Remus softens, sitting down on the edge of the bed. “Still scared, huh? Hey,” he murmurs when Thomas nods, his cheeks burning, “you’re okay, it’s okay. I’ll stay. Nothing’ll get you while I’m here.”

“Promise?”

“I’m the only bad guy allowed to play with you,” Remus says firmly, “you go to sleep. I’ll keep you safe.”

Thomas closes his eyes as he feels Remus shift on the end of the bed. The weight is a comfort. And Remus is right, nothing can get him while Remus is here.

Logan’s words drift back to him as he starts to fall asleep. Little baby dragons. Curious baby dragons. Nice baby dragons.

Maybe he can dream of those.

————————————

There is a pond in the Imagination that is halfway between the border to Remus’s side and the castle on Roman’s side. The water is crystal clear and several lily pads float in the center of the water. Trees let their flower petals drift down to land in the water, sending little ripples bouncing back and forth.

In the middle of the pond one morning is a giant nest.

Roman finds it, walking through the Imagination on his way to meet with Remus. He pauses, tilts his head, and begins to call it toward him. Perhaps one of the birds accidentally forgot to secure their nest properly and it blew into the pond. As it drifts closer to him, he frowns.

This is much bigger than most bird nests, even John Feathers’s nest over on the mountains. He keeps pulling it closer until it bumps up against the shore. He crouches down and peers inside.

His eyes widen.

The inside of the nest is lined with moss, the soft green color coming through the shiny insides of egg shards strewn about the branches. They catch the light and shine brightly, almost blinding him, at least until they’re trodden upon and break up even more.

And crawling about, sniffing eagerly at the branches, the moss, the air, and his fingers, are tiny dragon pups.

One of them, a brave little one with red ridges across its brow and a golden sheen to its scales, scurries up the side of the nest and noses at his hand. He turns it over, mystified, as it begins to sniff his palm. It sets one clawed foot inside, then another, then another, until it stands perfectly in his hand. It raises its little head and chirps at him. Roman blinks and slowly lifts his hand, watching as the dragon pup chirps again, happily this time, as it spreads its wings and stretches.

“Ro-Bro! You’re late, what’re you—“ Remus’s delighted gasp comes from his left— “you found babies!”

Indeed, another one of the pups with a black streak down its wings scrambles out of the nest and scurries over the rocks to Remus, clawing its way up his pants to nibble excitedly at the white streak in his hair. Remus laughs, catching the pesky little pup around the middle and setting it on top of his head.

“I love them!”

“I can see that,” Roman chuckles, the dragon pup in his hand making the jump to his shoulder, “I think it likes you too.”

“Where did they come from?”

“I think Thomas is dreaming.” As if in confirmation, the dragon pup lets out a rumble and nuzzles his shoulder. “Yeah? Are you dreams, little ones?”

Another purr and a series of excited chirps from the nest.

“Well, we’ve gotta get the others!” And before Roman can say anything, Remus has summoned the other Sides into the Imagination. “Look!”

Patton squeals and rushes for the nest, despite Logan’s quick protest of not scaring the babies.

“They’re dreams, Logan,” Roman says quickly, “they’re harmless.”

“I see.”

Patton, of course, already has two in his lap and is cooing over them as they chirp and sing and twine together in his lap. Logan rolls his eyes fondly and squats down next to the nest. One of the dragon pups immediately scurries up and stands on its hind legs, leaning up to sniff at his nose.

“Hello,” Logan murmurs, “you’re very interesting.”

The dragon clicks back, seemingly as interested in Logan as Logan is in it. It flaps its wings a few times, hovering in the air, before landing carefully on Logan’s knee. It scratches lightly at the fabric of his jeans.

“Here…” Logan sits down as Roman bites back a smile. “There, is that better?”

The dragon chirps, waddling forward to take his tie in its mouth and tug lightly.

“That’s my tie, little one.”

Virgil hides a snort at watching Logan and the dragon pup examine each other, before his attention is caught by a tiny squeak from under the nest. He frowns, leaning down, expression softening when he sees a dragon pup hiding out of sight.

“Hey, there, bud,” he says softly, “you okay down there?”

The dragon pup flinches a little, cowering against the nest.

“It’s okay, I won’t hurt you.” He slowly offers a hand. “Why don’t you come out of there? That’s can’t be comfortable.”

The little pup sniffs at his hand.

“See? I’m not gonna hurt you. You can come out, it’s okay.” Virgil takes a seat on the ground and plucks a berry from a nearby bush. “You hungry?”

“Dragons are carnivores, Virgil.”

“Well, maybe these ones can also eat berries.”

“Maybe.”

Indeed, as the little dragon pup starts to crawl warily forward, taking the berry in its mouth, it seems to like it. Virgil smiles as the dragon crawls into his lap and curls protectively around the berry.

“See?”

“Alright, perhaps they do like berries.”

“You should write that down in your—“ Virgil cuts himself off before swatting Roman’s shoulder— “look at J.”

“What?”

“Shh, look at J!”

Roman turns, as does Logan.

Janus is sprawled out on one of the big flat rocks near the pond with at least three of the pups on his stomach. One of them has the cloak flopped over it like a blanket, kneading it with its talons. One of them is completely splayed out, wings wide, rolling back and forth on the soft ruffles.

And one of them is staring at Janus with its tongue hanging out.

Janus’s tongue is poking out too.

“Aww! Janus is blepping!”

“I am not!”

“Yes, you are!”

“Am not!”

See? There are nice dragons after all.

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[randoimago]

Lucky :: Majima x Reader

Fandom: Yakuza

Pairing: Goro Majima x Reader

Words: 1473

Notes: So began last month with playing Yakuza 0 before going into a deep dive of Majima clips because I fell in love with his crazy ass. And now I’m writing this short little fic about him cause why the hell not?

Doesn’t really specify how far along into a relationship the two of you are but I like the ambiguity of it. Also sorry if I mess up with his character a bit. I’m trying to stay true but I’m still really used to his Yakuza 0 self.

It was one of those days where Goro Majima didn't have to get up early to bash in some heads. One of those days where he didn't get any calls about trouble or had any meetings or bullshit planned out for the day. One of those few and far between days where he is able to just lay in bed and do nothing if he pleases. A guy like him seems like it'd be impossible for him to sit still and usually he likes to maintain that act, even falling into it when it's just him, but right now, in this place and time, he was able to just lay in bed and relax. Why? Because he has you.

You were asleep. You were just deeply breathing, eyes closed, head draped on his bare chest. You weren't doing anything really, but the feeling of your slowly rising and falling body against his just made him relax instantly. He had to stifle a chuckle at that. Not a chuckle of amusement but one of how the hell could he have been so lucky to be in this position with someone? 

"You're burning holes in my back." Majima's eyes widened at your sleepy mumbling before he went to giving you a lazy smirk as your eyes slowly drifted open. He rubbed your back with one hand while his head rested on the other. "Whacha thinking about?" The question was slightly slurred as you rubbed the sleep from your eyes, adjusting your position to be more next to him to be eye level than have him slightly looking down at you. 

"Just your cute face, [Y/N]-chan~" He couldn't help but say with a goofy smile, trying to get you to laugh first thing after you woke. He mentally high fived himself when you did let out a soft giggle. He couldn't help himself as he moved to laying on his side to lean over and press a kiss to your forehead. A light flush went on your face as you gave him your own lovesick smile and he felt his heart feeling lighter. "Seriously though, just wonderin' how I got so lucky." A small pout crossed your face at that as you moved to poke his forehead, causing him to make a face at that.

"Stop being so critical. If anything, I'm the one that got lucky." Majima couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at that.

"Lucky to be involved with the Mad Dog of Shimano?"

"Lucky to be with the kindest, most caring man I've ever met." Majima couldn't help a snort at that, which caused you to poke his forehead again. Him not caring enough to swat your hand away and just letting you get away with it.

"You're gonna ruin my image with that talk, babe." 

"Good thing it's only for you." He didn't stop the smile from spreading on his face at that statement as he felt himself feeling even lighter. "But you are really sweet, Goro. You act like a crazy guy that doesn't give a damn about anything but you've shown me that that ain't you. I still don't know what I did to let you be so sweet to me but I'm glad I did it."

"Love is blind ain't it?" A sort of bittersweet smile crossed Majima's face as he made that statement. While his heart sometimes aches now and then when he thinks of those events from the past, he didn't think he'd get so lucky as to finally have a breakthrough when he met you. "Although you're kinda the crazy one for not runnin' away from my ugly mug." This time he did catch your hand before it went to poke him. He turned it around so he held that hand instead, soothing the back with his thumb. 

"Stop being so degrading. You don't deserve that. And it hurts me too when you talk about yourself like that." He smiled a bit as he leaned over to press a kiss to the top of your head again. How he got so lucky, he won't ever have any idea. He had grown accustomed to the idea if that if he threw enough money around then he could get some arm candy for at least a bit. The idea of actually having someone he can call his still boggled his mind. To think, a random chance encounter led him to have this kind of relationship. He's come a long way from writing in bathroom stalls, hoping to meet some random lady.

"Sorry, sorry. Still odd to have someone actually love me for me, ya know? Wasn't lyin' about you being crazy enough not to run away though."

"I was so scared of the other guys that I couldn't move when I noticed you showing up. Then again, I did notice you way too late to run and get out of there." Right right, some random ass punks thought they could try and get you to go to some sleazy hotel with them and he stepped cause he had some pent up frustration needing released. Who would've thought that being a good Samaritan would get him the love of his life. Hell, he was just expecting a damn plate or some kind as the usual payment. Instead, once you recovered from those greaseballs, you offered to buy him a coffee as thanks. 

"What are you smiling about?" He was pulled from his reminiscing by your question, giving a light chuckle as he shook his head.

"Rememberin' how we met. Think I called you crazy then too."

"You did." He let out a laugh that time at how quick you were to answer. "You said, and I quote, 'Man you musta hit your head or somethin' if you want to go out for coffee with a guy like me. Well who am I to refuse a pretty face.'" Majima snickered at your impersonation of him especially when you added the insane-sounding laugh he usually saved for Kiryu. "I don't think I even realized who I was asking out until after you said that. Man I was so embarrassed when I did realize!" Majima laughed more at your exasperated sigh and second-hand embarrassment as you thought of the past.

"Eh I didn't have quite the rep as I do now." Majima did his best to shrug despite still laying on his side. He made a face as he did feel himself stiffening a bit at the position. He adjusted again to actually sitting up, leaning his back against the headboard of the bed as he moved to pull you up with him so you could cuddle better. He doesn't think he'd ever get tired of cuddling. "Had hoped the snakeskin woulda still made an impression." He smiled at your pout at that. He still held onto your hand so you couldn't move to poke his face.

"Shut up."

"Hey don't go turnin' into Kiryu-chan on me." He laughed as he saw the face you made at that comment. 

"Please, the last thing I'd need is you popping up randomly in bizarre outfits when I'm trying to get shit done." Majima gave a mischievous smile at that comment.

"Yet I remember you really likin' the cop outfit." He couldn't help the laughter as you pulled away from him to smack him (lightly) with the pillow you had been laying on. He dealt with your assault before you hugged the pillow to yourself, pouting at him, your face a lovely red.

"Shut up."

"Huh and I think you really took a shinin' to Goromi too..."

"Shut up~" He couldn't help but giggle as you attempted hiding behind the pillow you held as he could practically feel the heat coming off of your embarrassed self. It was a very adorable sight and he couldn't believe he'd be this lucky to be able to witness it. Hell, lucky that you'd even let him get this far in the relationship to see you like this. At any point you could've walked away and he'd let you yet you were crazy enough to stay.

"Hey, [Y/N]?" You moved the pillow away at the sudden serious tone that Majima took.

"Yeah?"

"I love ya." A sweet smile took place on your still, slightly reddened face.

"I love you too, Goro." His heart fluttered more as you gave him a kiss to go with your declaration.

He was glad when you cuddled back up to him, hoping to stay like that for the rest of the day, or however much longer he'd have before someone messaged him about trouble. But for now, he's happy holding you and continuing to wonder just how he got to be so lucky to have you in his arms, cuddled up at his side. How did he get so damn lucky?

[reidsmemory]

Movies

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Genre: Pure fluff

Warnings: Grumpy Spence

Challenge: Day 8 - Movies

Quinn Speaks: This is hella late :/ Sorry for the hold up y’all!! My schedule got super busy bc I started peer tutoring this week as well as attending a school conference thingy! My Halloween writing challenge!!

not my gif!

     “The weather is too bad to head back tonight,” Hotch told the team as you all let out a collective groan. It was about 4:30 and you all had just wrapped up a case in a small Colorado town.

     “We were suppose to start our marathon tonight,” your boyfriend tugged on your sleeve a bit as he talked in a hush tone. It was true, about a week before Halloween you and Spencer would take turns picking out spooky movies to watch.

     “I know,” you whispered back, “maybe we can find something on the TV back at the hotel?” He grumbled a bit and placed his head onto your shoulder. You hadn’t seen him this upset about something since some guy had openly flirted with you at a bar before you two had gotten together.

     You knew that you had to do something as pretty much everyone on the team had expected to go home and spend time with their loved ones or just relax in general. 

     “Lets head back to the hotel, yeah?” you said to the team as they nodded and walked over to the black SUVs and piled their bags in the trunks. You hopped in the passengers seat and Derek sat across from you in the drivers seat. Spencer grumbled something about you not wanting to sit next to him as he made his way into the backseat with Penelope. 

     Morgan started to drive and you pulled out your phone and started to look some things up.

     “Whatcha doing there, Princess?” Derek asked as he saw your fingers rapidly typing on your phone. 

     “Oh nothing,” you spoke with a teasing grin as he chuckled a bit under his breath. Spencer shot you a look in the mirror of the car and you just winked as he grew more curious. 

     Morgan eventually pulled up to the little in you were staying at and he promptly pulled into a parking spot as Hotch, who was driving the other SUV, did the same. Everyone got out off the car and reluctantly went to go check in again and get room cards once again. 

    Spencer opened the door to your shared room and dropped his bags down on the floor and face planted into the bed. He groaned loudly and you went over to him and rubbed his back lightly.

     “Don’t worry, Doc,” you spoke sweetly, “everything’s gonna work out, yeah?” He just whined at your words, but they were muffled by the mattress. “I gotta step out for a minute okay?” 

     He didn’t respond.

     You let the man to sulk in your shared room as you closed the door and got on the phone with the restaurant. “Hi, yeah I’d like to set a reservation for eight.” You paused a bit as the man on the other end talked. “Y/N Y/L/N.” Another pause. “Yes that’s perfect, thank you so much.”

     You sent a text to the group chat you all had saying, ‘be ready in 30!’ 

     Stepping into the room, Spencer was now sitting up right and he looked at you with confusion evident on his face. “What are we doing in 30 minutes?” 

    “You’ll have to wait and find out, Doc,” you replied as he groaned and you let out a light laugh. 

***

    You opened the door to the restaurant. It was a small Japanese place that was family owned, in fact you had met the daughter on the case earlier this week. The team stepped into the place and were greeted as you talked for them, “table for Y/N Y/L/N.”

     “Right this way,” she said as you all followed. Spencer grasped you hand and you smiled at him lightly. He of course returned the gesture, but you could tell he was still a bit upset. 

     She gestured for you all to take a seat at the table as the chef prepared to start cooking. It was one of those places with an open grill where they would make the food right in front of you and the team was big enough to get it’s own table. 

     You all looked at the menu and ordered as the chef in front of you started making some food. You kissed the back of Spencer’s hand sweetly as he blushed at your public display of affection. 

     “So what was with all the blankets and pillows in the back of the car?” JJ asked as she took a bite of the appetizer in front of her. 

     Everyone’s eyes were trained on you as you smiled. “Well the city is putting something together tonight and I figured we could go tonight if you all were up for it?” They all responded with nods or yes’ and you smiled.

     “What are they doing?” Spencer asked you quietly.

     “That is part of the surprise, babe,” you smiled as you spoke, “and no I will not tell you because we are dating.” Spencer closed his mouth and pouted a bit as you took the words right out of is mouth. 

     “Here you are,” the chef said as he gave Spencer his dish and Spencer thanked him. “And for the lady,” you smiled and repeated Spencer’s actions as he moved to give Emily her food. 

     Everyone ate for a bit and you all shared laughs and smiles. Derek even shared some of his high school stories which always earned wide smiles and aching stomachs from the laughs. JJ jumped in with occasional story about Will and Henry and Hotch did the same with Jack.

     Penelope informed you all of the new TV she was binging and even wrote it down on your palm so you could watch it and report back to her. You and Penny had a tendency to share shows so you could gossip about them whenever you weren’t working. 

     Emily entertained you all with a story about her many times traveling the globe as you and Spencer glanced at each other, both silently agreeing to visit the place Emily talked so highly of. 

     Everyone’s plates were clear and you all paid for your own food; split bills made no sense in the opinion of the team. By the time you all had cleared out of the restaurant the sun was starting to set as orange and yellow hues filled the sky and a light chill was felt in the air as Spencer unconsciously pulled you under his arm as if it was second nature now. 

     “Alright, Princess,” Derek said as you climbed in the passengers seat next to him, “where to next?”

     “I just put the location in the GPS,” you said glancing down at your phone, making sure the text with the address got delivered to JJ. He nodded at you words and pulled out of the parking lot and started to follow the directions that were spewed from the mouth of the car. 

     Street lamps up and down the little town as some people walked their dog or ran on the side walk with their ear buds in and surely playing some type of motivational music. Slowly more and more parked cars came into view and Derek whistled from besides you. 

     “Full house,” he stated as you nodded. Looking to Spencer who was trying to catch a glimpse of what everyone had gathered for. 

     Derek managed to find a spot and so did Hotch as he parked right across from you. Grabbing the blankets and pillows from the back as well as slipping your hand into Spencer’s. “Can you tell me now?” he asked.

     “Just a few more steps and you’ll see for yourself.” As the team followed your steps thy soon saw what you had come for. A big blow up screen was set up as well as vendors for popcorn and candies. 

     The title card of ‘Coraline’ was on the screen and you saw Spencer’s eye light up as he soon turned to you and placed a kiss on your lips. You gladly indulged in the mans actions and could here Penny and Derek making a commotion as you did so. 

     He pulled away with a sheepish smile as he never really was one for PDA. “I love you,” he whispered.

     “Yeah, yeah,” you murmured back as his smile grew into a wide, lopsided grin at your words. “Come on,” you said as you pulled him as you both jogged a bit to catch up with the team. 

      Kids were laughing and playing around you as parent watched with careful eyes and full hearts. Spotting some of the officers from the town, you all waved as they did the same back. Laying the blankets down on the grass, you all seemed to have a different idea of how to enjoy the night. 

     Garcia and Emily going to buy some snacks from the vendors despite the filling dinner they had not even a half and hour ago. Hotch, JJ, and Morgan pulling out their phones to facetime their families and tell them to tune into the same movie their were about watch so it would seem as if they were watching it together. Rossi striking up conversation with people around you as well as wondering around to talk to the officers. 

     Spencer opened his arms as the both of you laid down on the grass. You kissed him softly as his lips soon moved against yours. After a few pecks you broke apart and cuddled up next to him. 

     “You’re seriously the best girlfriend ever,” he said in hushed tone.

     “I know,” you said with a grin as he laughed a bit. “I hope this make up for missing-”

     “This more than makes up for it,” he cut you off, “I love you so much.”

     “I love you more, Doc.”

***

Remember to tag your piece ‘QHC2020′ or ‘Q’s Halloween Writing Challenge 2020′ if you are participating in this challenge!

Reblogs, notes, and comments are always appreciated!

[raendown]

Fandom: Marvel Pairing: SamBucky Word count: 2070 Rated: T+ Summary: Steve had only just been thinking about how much he missed his best friend when his phone started ringing. Great minds think alike! Except apparently Bucky had meant to call someone else entirely and Steve was not at all prepared for the discovery of this baffling - but adorable - secret.

Follow the link or read it under the cut!

From Where You Are

He may have staunchly denied it every time Tony or Natasha or anyone else teased him for it but Steve knew damn well that he had a - very slight! - penchant for dramatics. Dramatics like slamming an entire plane down in to the icy ocean rather than just turning the damn thing around and flying in circles until Peggy or Howard came up with the latest madcap rescue plan. Yeah. He was a self aware guy. Which meant he knew exactly how much teasing he would get if he so much as dared to open his mouth and complain about life on the run. 

Because as well as Steve knew himself, his friends knew him better. He might be lucky to get a whole three words in to his sentence before any of the people he currently had available to listen would guess exactly what he was really complaining about. He missed Bucky. So sue him! He’d already spent seventy years thinking his best friend was dead and then another two knowing he was out there but not exactly all there. Now finally he knew exactly where Bucky was. He knew that Bucky knew exactly who he was. They could be best friends again. 

Through video calls only. 

Steve clenched his jaw against the urge to close both eyes and whine at the unfairness of it all. Leaving Bucky in Wakanda had been the right choice for everyone but that didn’t mean he had to like it. Could the world maybe stop being so unfair for just five damn minutes? Give a guy a chance to reunite properly with the one thing that had centered the first couple decades of his life? Maybe get a hug or two in while Bucky was only one-armed and half defenseless against a few rounds of proper manly affection? It didn’t sound like too much to ask. Yet here he was sitting up just past midnight trying to calculate time zones to figure out if maybe he could get a quick call in now that Sam and Natasha were falling asleep. If he snuck out on to the balcony he might be able to avoid waking them and therefore avoid the inevitable teasing over his ‘very obvious pining’.

So lost in his own head was he that Steve nearly threw his phone against the wall when it began signing in his hand. It took a slow blink or two for his thoughts to clear enough that he understood no, he had not called Bucky out of rote habit, Bucky was calling him. Score one for that mental best friend bond he’d heard the other two joking about the other day. Steve was smiling as he accepted the call and held it up at an angle he hoped would get his face properly. 

“Hey, Buc- oh my god, are you okay?” 

Small on the screen and folding in to himself like he was trying to be just as small in person, Bucky’s eyes were wild where they stared somewhat just over top of whatever device he’d used to call from. He took several ragged breaths in and let them all out a little too heavily before he could speak. 

“No.”

“I’m here, pal, what’s up?”

“Can you- where’s Sam?”

Steve felt his eyebrows lift up together. “Uh, Sam? Is in the next room. Why?”

A good question, he felt, since in the eight or so months since they had all last been together in Wakanda, Bucky had never once so much as breathed Sam’s name during these scattered video calls. Steve had seen them have maybe two conversations in the palace and both of those had been stilted as hell. Two men dancing around the fact that they’d both tried to kill each other on several occasions. Now here was Bucky jerking his eyes over to look directly at the camera and Steve had never seen him look so haunted before. Which, really, was saying something.

“I want to talk to Sam,” he said, voice quiet, aching with something Steve hadn’t heard before. They had talked about Bucky having nightmares. He’d just never seen one, not even the aftermath. Bucky had been a keep-it-close-to-the-chest guy long before what happened with HYDRA.

“Uh, okay. Sure. He might be asleep but I’ll just- yeah.”

Feeling more than a little confused, he did just that. Stood and marched to the door with a single minded purpose that could only come with being given a mission. Bucky wanted to talk to Sam and he might not understand why but he was going to make that happen even if he had to wake the man up. 

Thankfully, he did not have to wake the man up, although if he’d waited even a single full minute longer that might have been the case. Sam hadn’t even taken the time to undress or properly get in to what passed as his bed for tonight. He was still sitting half slumped against the wall on a little nest of blankets, carefully positioned in exactly the opposite corner from Natasha because one simply did not sleep next to a Russian super spy knowing that the slightest disturbance would send her in to full mission mode in less than five seconds. Besides, Sam had laughed when he pointed that out, I’m a serial sleep cuddler and I don’t think that’s a great idea here. Who knows how many knives she’s got under her pillow? 

“Sam?” Fond amusement rippled through the layers of worry as Steve watched his friend’s head loll towards him, indolent and exhausted. “Hey, uh, Bucky’s on a call. He wants...to talk to you?” That got a reaction. His eyes cracked open to take in the phone Steve was holding out and his chin lifted faintly in greeting.

“Hey man,” he ground out, voice coarse with near-sleep. “‘Nother nightmare?”

“Can you tell me a story?” Bucky asked. 

Steve very nearly dropped the phone. He almost dropped it again when Sam, without any external reaction whatsoever, immediately launched in with, “So you know that guy Dwayne I was telling you about? From homeroom? God, lemme tell you about how stupid this guy is. We’re at prom, right? And there’s this honey he’s had his eyes on for like three months only she went to prom with Harry Murdock- yeah, you know, the quarterback. Fuckin’ quarterbacks, man.”

It was kind of like watching something his own weird dreams might come up with. A sequence of events that made very little sense once you’d woken up and tried to piece it all back together. Sam’s eyes gradually slid closed again but his mouth just kept going like this was all totally normal, like he often spent his nights sitting up and telling Bucky random stories about the other kids he’d gone to highschool with. And on the opposite end of the call Bucky’s face grew less haunted with every word until the panic had drained out of him entirely and his own eyes were sliding down. He must have been using a tablet or laptop because the camera stayed perfectly centered on him even when his head at last fell gently down against his chest. 

“-and I mean, yeah, I get what he was going for with the ribbons but fuck, it really just made the whole thing worse. Best night of my entire highschool career gone right down the drain because Harry Murdock was too ashamed to tell his parents he wanted to take me to prom and Lisa Furlow was too good of a friend to tell anyone she was just a beard. Obviously the teachers were mad about the horse being there but- ah. He fall asleep?” It took a second for Steve to realize his friend was asking him a question. 

“Yeah. He did.”

“S’good. Good. ‘M gonna too. Night, Steve.” And then he was out too. Sam’s head lolled again, face going slack, and Steve was left standing there with a phone in his hand and several new knots in his chest, all of them shaped like confusion. 

Well. That. Had happened. Lifting his hand, Steve watched the live image of his best friend sleeping peacefully, a direct contrast to the shaken man who had reached out for help. Reached out to someone who wasn’t Steve. He’d be lying if he tried to say some part of that didn’t sting but he was a big enough person to recognize that helping Bucky was so much more important than stroking his own ego even if he did still feel like the ground was shaky between them after everything that had happened. Watching the man now, he certainly couldn’t deny that whatever the hell just happened seemed to have helped. Bucky hadn’t looked so at peace since he’d volunteered to go back in to cryo while the Wakandans figured out a way to help him. 

Movement from the opposite corner of the room drew Steve’s eye and when he glanced over he found Natasha sitting primly with both eyebrows raised in question. Not having much of an explanation, he could only give her a helpless one-shoulder shrug. They held each others’ gazes in matching confusion for several beats until Steve turned to look back at where Sam lay, asleep and content, slumped against the wall. He was definitely going to wake up to an aching back. 

And a whole lot of questions. 

Unfortunately for Steve’s overwhelming curiosity, he was still self-aware enough to know he didn’t have the heart to wake Sam, not knowing that it was ultimately his own fault the other man was so tired. If he hadn’t shown up on Sam’s doorstep that day they wouldn’t both be here, on the run from their own country, unable to call home to the people they cared about, worn to the bone from running and fighting and hiding themselves away in whatever dingy hole they found to crash in for a night or two. No, Steve would not be the one to disturb any rest his friend managed to find. 

“You gonna hang up some time this century?” Natasha’s voice murmured through the shadows. 

“Oh, yeah, I probably should.”

She watched him do so with what was probably an all too obvious reluctance. Then she grinned. “We’re giving him the third degree tomorrow, right?”

“Absolutely.”

“So many questions. I need to know absolutely everything that led to Sam Wilson telling the Winter Soldier bedtime stories. Everything.”

“That was weird, right?” Steve ran a hand through his hair, absently noting a tremble in the fingers. “We should probably get some sleep too. I mean, you try. Don’t think I’ll be able to get any.”

Natasha unfolded herself from the floor with the corners of her mouth curling up in a little smirk he couldn’t bring himself to look away from. “No, I think I’ll be fine. Let’s go get some coffee. We’ll coordinate our plan of attack for when this guy gets back to the land of the living.” She jerked one thumb at Sam’s form and Steve finally had to peel his eyes away just to hold in the laughter that wanted to spill out. 

“Alright. Yeah. Coffee. And a plan of attack. Sounds good to me.” 

“What was it they called you? The star spangled man with a plan?”

Steve groaned and covered his eyes with the hand not still holding his phone. “Please tell me there’s no surviving footage of me prancing around on stage in tights.”

“Why would I need footage when I get front row seats every time you suit up?” Natasha sauntered away from him, probably - definitely - aware exactly what shade of red she’d just left on his face. Front row seats indeed. He certainly didn’t mind his own front row seat whenever he had the chance and the times Natasha had to join them out here on the run from their own government gave him plenty of chances. 

One last look at his phone made him smile before Steve slipped it in to his pocket and gently clapped both hands together, rubbing his palms back and forth. Coffee did sound good. Coffee with Natasha while they figured out exactly how much hell to give Sam over how he was apparently reading bedtime stories for a man he hadn’t said two words about in all the time since they’d left Wakanda. This was going to be fun. 

[fierysafrina]

Just breathe | part 4 of Broken Bonds

Fandom: Obey Me! Rating: General Word count: 2.970 Genre: Hurt/Comfort | Fluff  Summary: It’s hard, but you make it work. Notes: And this is it. This is the last part of Broken Bonds. It was quite interesting and fun to write this story, especially when I had to think how the brothers, angels and Solomon would react and do things. Sure it also got me thinking about my writing too, but I’m glad and happy how it turned out. Hope you guys will also like it!

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Day by day, one is always in the vicinity. No one dares to approach you, which let you know that Lucifer must have told them what happened.

You’re sitting on the terrace, watching the garden as you watch the snow slowly falling from the sky. You close your eyes and sigh, feeling slightly bad that one of the brothers is standing outside. Standing up from the rocking chair, you wrap the blanket a bit tighter around yourself and walk towards the fence. You lean over it and look towards the forest only to catch something silver. Your heart aches because it’s Mammon that’s keeping a watch on you and he must have been freezing too.

Your eyes meet and Mammon freezes like he didn’t expect you to look for him. He looks around like he’s trying to find a place to hide. It makes you smile and before you know it, you call out;

“Mammon,”

He stills and looks at you.

“Come here. It’s cold and you’ll get sick if you’re gonna stay out much longer.”

“‘M fine.” he says and you must strain your ears to hear him.

“Please…” you murmur and with hesitation he walks to the house.

He warily looks around before he takes a step on the porch and stops again. It seems like he’s expecting something and you realize he’s waiting for that same spell that was there before. When he so blindly walked through only to end in pain.

“I asked Solomon and Simeon to keep only witches away.” you say quietly.

Mammon’s eyes widened. That wasn’t what he expected to hear. He steps on the porch and awkwardly looks around like he’s not sure what to do. You smile and pat on the back of a chair beside yours. He hesitates and you wonder when did he grow so … reserved. It wasn’t the same Mammon you know and your chest tightens at the realization that you’re the one to blame.

“Would you like to drink something?” You ask, trying to bury the guilt away.

“‘S fine…” he murmurs with a shake of his head.

You observe him for a moment before you sigh and sit down. Mammon follows quietly and you both remain quiet, with you staring at the snow that covers the garden while there’s no doubt that the demon is staring at you.

“I-I’m sorry.” Mammon speaks after a moment.

You’re caught off guard so you look at him confused. “What?” you mumble.

“I’m sorry.” he repeats, this time more confident. “You didn’t deserve … that. I’m sorry.” he averts his gaze at his hands that are meddling on his lap, refusing to meet your eyes.

“I’m alright, Mammon.” You speak softly, your quiet voice barely catching his ears.

He raises his head and you spot tears in his eyes. “It still ain’t fair!” he raises his voice. “W-we … we-we should’ve protected ya!”

You sigh and shake your head. “Even if you did, there could be another that eventually comes with much bigger resentment towards you or Lilith.” you reach out for his hand and you notice how cold it is. You startle and unwrap the blanket before you wrap it around him. “Look how cold you are. Why didn’t you come here sooner?”

Without letting him answer, you turn and disappear into the house, completely ignoring Mammon’s calls of ‘it’s okay’. You’re murmuring to yourself the whole time while you’re preparing something warm for Mammon to warm up although you know he’ll be reluctant to accept.

And you’re proven right when you try to hand him a cup of tea.

“I-I ain’t cold anymore!” he’s trying to deny, but you can’t miss how pale-bluish his lips have become. How stupid could you be to not notice him earlier.

Your eyes well up and Mammon panics because he doesn’t want to see you cry. He takes the cup all while trying to assure you that he’s fine, that he’s not cold, but still thanks you for preparing him something warm. If possible you want to break down and cry, but you hold it in, because you don’t want Mammon to feel worse. You don’t want him to see you cry.

Silence spreads between you, neither of you sure what to say, to talk about. A part of you wants to ask him how he has been, if brothers still tease and pick on him, but you’re afraid of the truth. You’re not sure if you could handle it, because even now you dread how much you hurt them all those years back.

“We’re okay,” Mammon’s voice startles you.

You look at him confused.

He’s not facing you, but there’s sadness that surrounds him as he’s staring at the cup in his hands instead. “Me and brothers. We’re okay. Well, tryin’ to be at least…” he murmurs the last sentence more to himself and you frown. “We know we’re at fault for … actin’ the way we did and now that we think about it back, we could’a do it differently too, but in that moment that’s the only way we saw.”

Closing your eyes, you let out a sigh. “I know…” you whisper. Cold wind brushes against your hands and you shudder. There’s movement and you feel something put over your shoulders. You look and see Mammon just inches from your face. Your cheeks warm up in a matter of seconds and Mammon’s eyes widen. He pulls away quickly, apologies storming from his mouth, but instead of saying anything, you smile and you can’t help the tears that stream down your cheeks. Seeing your reaction, Mammon begins to panic even more.

“Please, don’t leave me…” You blurt out and Mammon freezes.

He’s staring at you shocked. “W-what?” he stutters like he misheard you.

“Don’t leave me.” you repeat, shaking your head. You stand up and reach for his hands, holding them. “So many times I wanted to call you, just for one of you to be here, but whenever I thought of you I remembered how you acted and I couldn’t do anything anymore. I was scared you wouldn’t answer. Or-or come. It hurt so much.”

“Never.” Mammon interrupts and your heart flutters at his words. He wraps you in his arms, tightens his embrace around you like he’s afraid that once he lets you go, you’ll disappear.

You raise your shaking hands and cling on his jacket, burying face into his chest. “I-I’m sorry…” you choke on your words, but Mammon is shaking his head.

“You have nothin’ to apologize for.” His voice is quiet. “It’s not your fault. It never was.”

You’re not sure how much time passes, but it’s close to mid-afternoon when the sky begins to turn dark. Mammon is the first to pull away and the corners of his lips croak into a small smile as he wipes your tears with his thumbs. He doesn’t say anything, because his actions speak louder.

He’s staying with you.

You wake up to a smell of something sweet and a chorus of curses. There are voices you don’t, but at the same time do, recognize before everything goes silent. You realize you’re lying on the couch as you rub your eyes and look around. There are a pair of violet eyes staring at you and you flinch at the sudden attention you’re receiving.

“Look what you did now!” Luke huffs and he scurries to your side, wrapping the blanket around you like he’s trying to hide you from gazes. “I’m sorry, we were too loud, I know. I tried to help them, but they never listen to me.” He’s talking both to you and to himself and you chuckle as you pat his head.

“It’s okay,” You say and stand up.

“I apologize for intruding.”

Your eyes fall on Lucifer, who’s standing on the doorway, his eyes observing you.

“I tried to warn them that you may find it excessive if all of us come, but have they ever listened to me?” he sighs and shakes with his head and it makes you laugh.

You quickly cover your mouth with the blanket, but they can’t deny that you’re still smiling beneath. The tension that you felt before, disappeared with your laughter. You make your way into the kitchen, Luke right beside you while Belphegor remains seated on the couch and Lucifer on the doorway that leads onto the terrace. Their eyes follow until you disappear into the kitchen where a very familiar sight greets you.

Mammon and Leviathan are covered with flour, Beelzebub is eating the cookies you baked last week while Satan is shaking his head, seemingly already giving up at the situation. You don’t see Asmodeus, but you have an idea where he is.

The two brothers still when they catch a sight of you, daring not to say a word as Luke begins to scold them. Beelzebub doesn’t stop, but he certainly looks your way frequently, his movements just a bit slower than before. It’s Satan, who approaches you, looking apologetic.

“I apologize,” he speaks rather quietly; “we’ll clean the kitchen.”

You remain silent, observing the situation. You’re not exactly sure how to feel about it. For years you lived alone, with occasional visits from angels and Solomon, but then over the night, your house becomes a mess because all demon brothers wanted was to prepare you breakfast.

Your house is quiet. It’s too quiet and Lucifer, who’s now behind you, is ready to scold Mammon and Leviathan when a chuckle breaks the quietness and stillness. You cover your mouth in a second, all eyes focusing on you, but you can’t help when you see flour all around and small spots even in Satan’s hair.

“[Name]?” Luke tilts his head, confused, and you burst into laughter.

You’re leaning over, holding for your stomach as your laughter fills the kitchen and even the living room.

“They lost their mind…” You hear Belphegor and you want to stop, you truly want to, but you keep on laughing.

There are tears in your eyes and for some reason you feel at peace. You don’t feel angry or sad when you look at them. You hear a chuckle and no soon more join you.

The tension that was present just a moment ago disappeared and you feel like you’re back in the Devildom. Except that you know you’re not and that you don’t have a pact with them anymore.

A touch of a hand on your upper arm startles you and you look at Lucifer, who’s looking at you, like he knew exactly what you were thinking. There’s a small smile on his lips and you’re moving before you realize it. Your face is buried in his chest, your arms tight around his torso and Lucifer doesn’t know what to do. Everyone quiets down, they’re watching the two of you, but no one is saying anything.

“I wondered why the laughter disappeared when I walked in, but now that I do I wonder if I should interrupt or not.”

Pulling away, your cheeks are warm as your eyes meet Simeon’s. He’s standing on the doorway between the hallway and kitchen.

“Simeon!” You chirp out, sudden energy overwhelming you and you rush to his side, pulling him inside.

A smile only grows on your lips and it’s a sight the brothers and the two angels adore the most. It’s that same carefree, loving and peaceful smile that you always showed them. In the next moment you’re rushing to Mammon and Leviathan, a kitchen towel in your hand as you start helping them clean flour off themselves.

It’s a sight that tugs at Simeon’s and Lucifer’s heart.

Even after what they had done, you're still the same.

It’s late in the night with Lucifer, Simeon and Mammon staying over at your house. Neither of the brothers wanted to leave, but seeing you overwhelmed and tired from all the antics they have pulled throughout the day, they came to agreement that at least their oldest brothers could remain by your side. You’re too tired to argue with anyone with the situation, so you let them decide as they wish.

Lucifer and Simeon are sitting in the living room on a sofa in silence. The only sound is the calm breathing of yours as you lay on the couch, your head on Mammon’s lap, and the ticking of the old clock. No one is talking as they don’t wish to wake you up.

You stir in your sleep, narrowing your eyebrows. Mammon’s softly caressing your head like a doting parent, his eyes observing you. He frowns when he notices a change in your breathing—growing rapid, heaving once in a while.

The second to focus on you is Simeon, whose expression is rid of any emotion, but when you whimper in your sleep, he moves in no time. He’s already kneeling beside you, caressing your face as he whispers sweet nothings to you.

“P-please…” you whimper in your sleep and grimace. “D-don’t… I’m-I’m sorry…” You startle before you open your eyes, blinking, trying to ground yourself. You see Simeon looking at you, completely forgetting Lucifer and Mammon are also there.

“It’s okay,” Simeon says quietly and both Lucifer and Mammon are watching you as you shake in Simeon’s arms. “You’re not alone, [Name]. You never were. You’re loved by so many.”

“S-Simeon…” you stutter out his name.

“I know,” he nods, eyes focusing on Lucifer, whose façade breaks by his next words: “They were fools, who let go of your hand even after they promised to protect you.” Mammon is gripping his knee tight, afraid to lash out, but Simeon continues; “But you know yourself they wanted to keep you safe even if the action they took hurt you.”

Your eyes are closed as you nod, clinging on his arms. “…I miss them…” you whisper.

“I know,” Simeon’s voice is quiet and he glances at the brothers, to see them looking anywhere but at you, ashamed. The angel feels satisfied with their reactions, but he also knows you wouldn’t want them to feel more regretful than they already do. Pulling away, he cups your face in his hands and smiles softly. “But they came back,” he begins slowly, wiping away the tears that stream down your cheeks. “They came to make amends with you, to ask your forgiveness and you welcomed them.”

You bite your lower lip and nod. “I did …” you agree quietly.

“Why did you?” Simeon can’t help but ask, although he already knew the answer.

You look into his eyes. “Because it wasn’t their fault for what happened.”

There’s a sudden gust of wind that makes you close your eyes and before you know it, you’re wrapped in white soft feathers—Simeon’s wings and he’s not looking at you, but at the side. You follow his gaze and you notice white hair and your eyes widen. Mammon is barely holding himself back, although his horns are already present, but there was another presence that you only manage to notice black wings before they disappear from your sight.

“Mammon…” you whisper-call his name.

He’s looking at you, tears in his eyes and he’s moving, but he stops when you flinch. There’s pain and regret and he moves back only for you to move forward. Simeon’s wings don’t protect you anymore, because you moved on your own. It was the decision you made as you wrap arms around the demon and hug him tightly.

Whispers of apologies are spoken, but you only shake your head because he doesn’t have to apologize. He already apologized so many times before that it hurt you now.

“Ya have nightmares…” he mumbles into the crook of your neck.

“Yes,” you nod, admitting. “Who doesn’t?” Your eyes are closed.

Mammon’s embrace is tight, but so warm it almost melts you. “’m sorry…” he murmurs and buries his face into your neck, which tickles you and makes you laugh. You can feel his lips twitch into a smile, but he doesn’t do more.

You glance at where Simeon was before only to find him gone. You’re alone with Mammon and you’re quite content with that. Pulling the brother down with you, he immediately engulfs you into another hug that you don’t hesitate to return. His heart is beating fast and hard that in the silence of your house, you can clearly hear it.

“Tell me a story,” you suddenly blurt out, knowing of the thoughts that run through his head.

“W-what?” he stutters and pulls away to look at you. His eyes are wide and bright in the dark, yet they’re quite visible. “I ain’t Satan.”

“I know,” you reply, then; “any story is fine.” Lowering your head, you bite your lower lip. “It helps me fall asleep again. Simeon tells me one, even if the same, when I have nightmares.”

Mammon is quiet before he sighs and pulls you back to his chest. He leans the chin on top of your head, staring at the door that leads onto the terrace. He spots Simeon’s wings and Lucifer—they’re talking and Mammon wonders what about when you wake him from his thoughts again.

“Story.” You pinch his side.

He yelps and glares down at you only to hum a moment later. “A story, huh?” he repeats and quiets down, wondering which one he should tell you of. “Ah!” he seems to remember.

You make yourself comfortable in his embrace, waiting.

“There once lived the Seven Lords …”

A small smile graces your lips as Mammon starts to talk. You close your eyes and begin to listen, a soothing, rather silent voice lulling you into sleep. You don’t remember when exactly you fell asleep, but the warmth that enveloped you in that moment was everything you needed.

After so long, you finally feel safe.

[sassycassie-s-writing]

Under the Moon

By: SassyShoulderAngel319

Fandom/Character(s): Avengers - Peter Parker/Spider-Man

Rating: PG/K+

Original Idea: I’ve been in a mood recently.

Notes: (Masterlist)(By Character)(About Me) I actually put forth a decent effort this time to make it as gender-neutral as possible. It’s probably not perfect but I tried.

^^^^^

A twinge in the muscles of my back jarred me from my sleep.

$#!+ did I forget again? I thought. Another spasm arched me off my mat. I fumbled through my bag for my phone. No service. Of course not. With shaking fingers, somehow I managed to unlock it. Moon Tracker was waiting for me on my home page. It launched and actually loaded, despite the lack of service.

Tonight’s Moon: Full read the screen.

I swore aloud. MJ didn’t wake.

Scrambling out of the tent, I stumbled through the dark to the tent next to ours. “Peter!” I hissed, knocking a knuckle against the tent pole. “Pete!”

I heard a groan. “What?” Peter complained.

“I need your help. I need you to come with me. Now.”

The tent he shared with Ned zipped open. Ned was curled up in a corner and clearly Peter had been sprawled out. Peter slipped out, barely managing to get into his sneakers, and zipped the tent shut behind him. “What’s goin’ on?” He yawned.

I recoiled as pain wracked through me. “We need to get away from camp—and I need you to web me to a tree,” I replied.

“What?”

“Now!”

My tone scared him into movement. He grabbed my hand and we ran from the campsite. I stumbled more than anything. My control over my own body was slipping. I moaned in pain. Peter looked back at me.

“What’s happening to your eyes?”

“No time to explain. Keep moving,” I panted.

We blindly wove through the woods until we were over a mile away. I found a sturdy tree and backed against it.

“Web me here,” I said. “Just cover me.”

“Why?”

I looked up. The moon was starting to peek above the hills, casting its light through the woods. “Just do it!” I cried out—stifling the sound as much as I could—and slammed into the tree. “Now!”

Peter’s webshooters activated and he spewed webs at me. I gave him a small smile.

Then I thrashed in pain—

And everything went black.

—

Peter stared as his friend’s body began to change. Claws broke through fingers. Fangs replaced teeth. A snout elongated from the face. Thick, brown-and-black hair sprouted. Pajamas started to disappear under the hair.

Until, instead of a human, Peter was staring at a wolf.

An enormous wolf. Easily twice the size of a regular wolf—and he’d found out that wolves were twice as big as he’d thought not too long ago—and covered in grey fur. The beast’s paws were wide and ended in long dark claws sharp enough to tear flesh like cotton candy. Thankfully they were positioned too awkwardly to reach the webs holding it.

“Gah! What the he—” He cut himself off as the wolf snarled at him, writhing against the webs. He applied another layer just to be safe. “Since—since—since when could you do—” The moonlight shone brighter, catching his attention. He peered up.

The moon was a massive disc—full and shining silver-white down against the tree trunk.

The wolf in front of him seemed transfixed by it, staring up with a melancholy whine softly escaping its throat. It tried again to escape the webs, but only half-heartedly.

Peter whooshed out a breath as realization struck him like a blow from the Hulk. “You’re a werewolf,” he whispered.

The wolf whimpered and then growled. Peter stepped back.

“I’m not sleeping tonight, am I?” He asked.

The wolf didn’t reply.

Which was probably a good thing, because if it did he probably would have screamed loud enough to wake up their friends over a mile away—and every big nasty in the forest. And he doubted his werewolf friend would protect him.

The wolf’s amber eyes were watching him suspiciously. But Peter just sat down and yawned again. “You and I have known each other for like ten years now. You’re in on my secret. Why didn’t you ever tell me yours?” He stared at the wolf, who was still seething at being trapped, but not fighting against the webs. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Again, the wolf made no reply. Just turned those amber eyes up to the moon. Peter looked up at it too. “Yeah. It’s beautiful. Especially on nights like tonight. When there aren’t any clouds.”

The wolf whined like a puppy—and Peter had to remind himself to not tear off the webs to cuddle into that thick, soft-looking fur. That werewolves probably didn’t have any human memories when they were in their wolf form. He leaned back on his hands. “You’re probably not gonna remember this, so I may as well tell you: I’ve actually had a crush on you since like seventh grade. I know we’ve been friends for longer than that but…” He shrugged. The wolf kept staring at the moon. “I don’t know. Something changed that year. I saw you in the gym with the ballroom dance club, teaching some poor dude how to waltz when I stayed late for robotics, and it was like this… like a lightbulb went off in my head. You know? Suddenly it was like I was really seeing you for the first time. Like I caught a glimpse of the best pieces of your soul.

“And I’ve never been the same since. Never looked at you the same way. I notice the grace you use when you move. Even if you’re clumsy sometimes. But I see your compassion too. Your care. Like once I started looking, I couldn’t stop.”

The wolf didn’t even react to him at all.

Peter sighed. “I’ll keep an eye on you tonight. I promise. You won’t be able to get out or hurt anything. It’ll be okay. I promise.”

—

I came to under the pale orange light of dawn. The last dregs of dissolving web fluid clung to my pajamas. I felt drained. Like I always did the morning after a full moon.

“Hey, you’re up!” Peter said happily. I turned. He was sitting on the forest floor a few feet away, using a Bunsen burner camping “stove” to heat a small pot of water. Two paper cups were sitting near him, plastic spoons poking out of the top. I slumped against the tree trunk. “I’m making some cocoa. Want some?”

I watched him pour the water in the cups, adding packets of cocoa mix and stirring carefully. I didn’t have the energy to actually reply.

He handed me one of the cups. “This should warm you up. It’s a little chilly.”

“Did you get any sleep?” I croaked.

“I did, actually. See, the thing is, my webs dissolve in two hours. On average, it takes fourteen minutes for a person to fall asleep, and a single sleep cycle is ninety minutes—hour and a half. So I used my webshooters to set timers. An almost-two-hour one to know when to replace the webs around you, and another to wake me up roughly an hour and forty-four minutes after I set it. So I slept between replacing your webs and I actually feel alright. Probably better than you anyway.”

I grunted agreement at that. I felt like I’d been trampled by a herd of elephants.

I tried a sip of the cocoa. Not too hot, but enough to warm my core. I sighed, content with the taste and warmth.

“Why didn’t you ever tell me?” Peter asked quietly. I met his eyes. He had the expression of a sad puppy on his face.

I huffed a little, stirring my cocoa. “My secret isn’t like yours, Peter,” I said. “You keep your secret to keep the people you care about safe. I do too, but mine—mine is different. You’re keeping the people you love safe from villains who want to hurt you by hurting them. I’m keeping the people I care about safe from me. Because I’m… we’re classified as monsters, Peter. Werewolves, vampires—we’re referred to as monsters the same way humans are mammals. I never told you because what I can do… it’s worse than what you can do. You’re a superhero. I’m a lycanthrope. Yours is a mutation of your DNA. Mine is literally a curse. I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you looking at me like I’m…”

“A monster?” Peter finished gently.

I almost growled at the word. “Yeah,” I admitted begrudgingly, taking a sip of my cocoa. “You have no idea how hard it is for someone like me to make or keep friends. I’ve spent most of my life super lonely. Then I met you and Ned and MJ and I felt like… like finally I could have some friends. I was turned into a werewolf when I was four-years-old, Peter. Thirteen years, I’ve suffered with this alone. My parents know but they don’t talk about it. They pretend like my curse doesn’t exist. Then I make friends for the first time in my life and still know, deep down, that I’ll never belong with them. Not really. Even when you told me about you, I knew I still wasn’t like you. I never would be. So I hoped I could just be friends as long as I could with you guys and… find a way to live with it when you all eventually left me.”

I downed the rest of my cup and stood. My joints ached.

“We should go back to camp before Ned and MJ wonder where we’ve gone,” I said.

Not waiting for Peter, I headed back the way we’d come, following my own scent through the trees, several hours old now, but doubly punctuated by Peter’s as he’d gone back to get the burner and the cocoa.

He caught up to me, jogging a little. “For the record, even though you scared the pants off of me last night when I saw you turn, I don’t think you’re a monster,” he said.

I managed a small smile. “Thanks,” I replied.

“And, also, I’m not going to leave you. You’re still my friend and I’m not scared. I can lift… like, a hundred times more than my body weight. I think I can handle you as a wolf. You’re not gonna hurt me and I’m not going anywhere.”

“That’s… that’s a relief to hear,” I admitted. We kept hiking back. “Do I remember you saying you’ve had a crush on me since we were in seventh grade? Or did I dream that up?”

Peter swore under his breath. A normal person wouldn’t have heard it, but I did. Wolf’s hearing. “Uh… I think you dreamt that up,” he said.

Liar. But if he wasn’t ready to tell me human-face-to-human-face, I’d give him time. He’d taken my secret better than I could have asked for or anticipated. I could let him admit his feelings whenever he was ready. I owed him that much.

When we got back to camp, MJ was sitting on a tree stump, munching on some dry cereal. “Where have you two been all night?” she asked.

[writing-of-a-british-bitch]

Blame Me- Chapter 3

Fandom: The Walking Dead

Specified gender: Female

Word Count: 5.7K

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x reader,

TW: Cannibalism (thanks Terminus), reference to past major character death, detailed gore, canon typical violence, canon divergence, reference to past child death, angry Daryl (if that counts), Daryl being mean about religion( IG?)

Genre: Horror ig?

Series: Blame Me

Requests: CLOSED

Masterlist

A/N: I will warn you, I kind of got carried away with Chapter 4, so get ready for that tomorrow. This one felt a little rushed, but the ending is worth it (I hope!) Enjoy!

For once, Daryl was cursing himself for being right. Terminus had been too fucking good to be true. Ask too many questions, and apparently, you get eaten. He was lined up, with Glenn, Bob and Rick, and apparently, he was the only one fighting against them. They just sat there and let them tie them up for fucks sake. He couldn't die, not like this. He wouldn't die just to be someones damn meal. Daryl got shoved in front of a trough-like bowl that stretched before the other men who were on either side of him. One look from Rick and Glenn made him pause, and he glared right back, breathing heavily, but he stopped fighting. The room was deadly still as two people dressed in butchers outfit came in, and he went cold. Fuck. They walked to the opposite end, grabbing the hair of a blonde guy at the end and one smacked him with a baseball bat. Once he was out, the other slit his throat, and immediately panic arose, and Glenn started panicking beside him. This continued down the line until it got to Glenn, and Daryl felt the dread building and building in his stomach, watching the blood run through the trough. Shit. Shit. Shit.

Glenn's hair got pulled back, and Daryl could tell the younger man was already apologising to Maggie in his head. The first butcher raised the bat above his head but was stopped when the leader, Gareth walked through.

"Hey, guys, what were your shot counts?" He asked, looking up from the clipboard in his hand. The first guy answered almost instantly with "38" but the guy with the knife hesitated "Hey! Your shot count"

"Crap, man, I'm sorry. It was my first roundup," He sighed. Daryl had to resist making a face of disgust. How could they discuss these things so casually as if they weren't killing people for food right in front of them?

"After you're done here, go back to your point and count the shells. Kaylee won't be gathering them until tomorrow. Oh, and also, did you both register your reports on that girl who tried to escape the other day?" Gareth questioned, raising an eyebrow. Rick narrowed his eyes at the man, while Bob started wriggling, and making small noises to get his attention. Both butchers gave responses of yes simultaneously "Great."

"What happened to her?" One asked, but Daryl couldn't determine which. Didn't fucking care at this point.

"Kaylee's got her. She's a fighter, I'll give her that. She'll break eventually. Don't worry about it," Gareth shrugged.

God these guys really were another level of asshole. If eating people didn't qualify that enough.

"Hey, let me talk to you for a minute! Let me talk to you for a minute. Let me talk to you for a minute!"Bob exclaimed, muffled through the gag. What the hell was he doing? Gareth turned back with an exasperated sigh, crouching down in front of him and yanking the gag out.

"What?"

"Don't do this. We can fix this," Bob tried to reason.

"No, you can't," Gareth rolled his eyes and moved to put the gag back in Bob's mouth.

"You don't have to do this. We told you there's a way out of all this. You just have to take a chance. We have a man who knows how to stop it. He has a cure. We just have to get him to Washington. You don't have to do this, man. We can put the world back to how it was," Now he was being stupid. Gareth was clearly a psychopath, there was no reasoning with a man like him. Daryl was, however, becoming increasingly aware of how long the guy at the end had been dead. He'd turn soon if they didn't deal with it.

"Can't go back, Bob," Gareth put the gag back in. Bob's eyes widened as he kept begging.

"We can! You don't have to do this!" Gareth rolled his eyes, turning to look at Rick instead. Daryl saw him stiffen, eyes hardening as he looked to the man who threatened his son. Gareth pulled the gag out and Rick held back a snarl, clutching the chunk of wood tighter

"We saw you go into the woods with a bag and come out without it. Had to pull my spotters back before we could go look for it. What was in it? You hid it, right? In case things went bad? Smart. Still, we'll find it. But it's too dangerous to go out there right now.," He suddenly grabbed Bob by the back of the neck and held a knife to his eye., but Rick didn't say anything. "What was in it? I'm curious. And it was a big bag. You really gonna let me do this?

"Well, let me take you out there I'll show you," Daryl watched the exchange carefully. Rick had started to go full Shane recently, and Gareth was messing with the wrong fucking guy.

"Not gonna happen. This might," Gareth moved the knife closer to Bob's eye, and he could see him trying not to flinch.

"There's guns in it. AK-47. .44 Magnum. Automatic weapons. Nightscope. There's a compound bow and a machete with a red handle. That's what I'm gonna use to kill you," Rick growled, glaring. The sharpened piece of wood he was holding was starting to make his hand bleed he was holding it so tightly.

Gareth only laughed, putting the gag back in "Thanks," He stood up and began walking back, calling to the two butchers "You have two hours to get them on the driers. I'm gonna go back to public face. Now's the time we can get messy, but we need to dial it all in by sundown."

The butchers nodded, pulling their goggles and gloves back on, but just when they were about to get back to work, they heard gunshots ring out from outside. Gareth looked at the window puzzled before pulling the radio from his side. Glenn's breathing was getting rapid as the panic built back up. One of the butchers raised the bat again slowly.

"Hey, Chuck?" Another gunshot sounded, stopping the butcher. Daryl looked around, meeting Rick's gaze briefly before a loud explosion shook the ground, knocking them to the floor, so Daryl was on the back of Glenn's legs. He could see black smoke through the window, and he already knew that there would be a herd of walkers following through.

"Hey, what the hell was that? Do you copy?"Someone on the radio asked, sounding slightly scared.

"You stay here," Gareth commanded, beginning to walk out.

"Gareth these guys aren't going anywhere-"

"Stay here until I know what's happening!" Gareth screamed, running out. The butchers exchanged a frustrated look, but stayed put, rising from the ground. Daryl and Glenn had started rubbing their wrists together hoping to break the zip ties holding them down, and Glenn let out a noise of pain.

"So we just sit here?" Knife guy asked

"Got a job to do," the Baseball guy replied, nonchalantly. They stood there for a minute, not even noticing Daryl and Glenns escape attempt, but the knife guy started pacing as they heard more and more gunshots. They started bickering. Daryl didn't even fucking care anymore. He had to get out of these restraints and get his family out of this shit hole. But apparently, while the butchers had failed to notice him, he'd failed to notice Rick, as he came behind one of them and stabbed him in the temple, then moved and stabbed the other in the neck. Except he stabbed the guy in the neck over and over and over, showing that Rick style homicidal rage, that stopped Daryl in his tracks. Rick rushed over and used the stake to tear his and Glenn's bindings, eyes frantic. Daryl stood up, tugging the gag from his mouth in relief.

"Sounds like a damn war," He huffed, picking up one of the knives from the table while Rick cut Bob free.

"What the hell are these people?" Bob asked, scrambling to his feet.

"They ain't people," Daryl remarked, and for a split second, his mind flickered to his girl. That was something she'd say. Maybe she'd rubbed off on him. But he couldn't think about that right now. He had to get out. Had to get them out. Bob went to stab one of the butchers in the head but Rick stopped him immediately.

"Don't. Let him turn."

The four men made their way out of the room, further into the slaughterhouse. They entered a room, where there were bodies hung up like animals, dried and headless. Daryl had never been someone with a weak stomach. Hell, all his years of hunting and the apocalypse had stopped that. But seeing the bodies made his stomach churn in disgust. Rick clearly had the same thought in mind.

"You cross any of these people, you kill them. Don't hesitate," He walked further in the room, Daryl following behind. He tucked the machete into his belt and picked up another knife and Rick looked over to him. "They won't."

Gunfire kept roaring from outside, and Daryl used his elbow to break off a chunk of metal from a machine. He didn't even want to know what it did. They reached the door and saw walkers crowded around a container, where some people were screaming for help inside, possibly some of Terminus' other hostages.

"If we run, we can get by them. They're distracted," Rick stated but Glenn shook his head.

"We got to let those people out. That's still who we are. It's got to be," Glenn replied, determined. Daryl didn't take his eyes off the walkers, knife out and ready to kill if he had to. There was a short pause, and Rick nodded, opening the door. All the noise from outside rose to an insane volume and it almost made Daryl's ears ache as he rushed out first, stabbing walkers, the rest of his boys right behind. It turned out the guy in the container was not only a member of Terminus but also absolutely batshit. They didn't have to worry about him long though - a walker took quick care of him, tearing out the muscles of his shoulder, as the guy screamed.

The place was overrun. There were walkers everywhere, and they weren't entirely sure how they were going to get out of this one. Daryl was more focused on keeping Glenn in place so he didn't do anything rash to get back to Maggie. He couldn't blame him. If (Y/N) were in that container still, he'd do something stupid to get back to her. Rick suddenly sprinted off, ignoring the groups' calls of his name. They watched as some of Terminus shot down a bunch of walkers, Rick crouched out of view behind a car. Daryl let out an annoyed growl. The damn fool was gonna get himself killed doing this. So, he followed after him, watching his back as Rick killed one of the Terminus men and stole his gun, using it to shoot walkers and Terminus alike. The walkers were helping to take out some of Terminus, but it was getting too full, and even Rick could see they wouldn't be able to get past all the walkers. He and Daryl ran back to Bob and Glenn, who looked pissed off that he'd run off again.

"We're gonna have to double back."

They made it back to the container their family was in and they pried the doors open. Daryl, Glenn and Bob were watching Rick's back as he instructed everyone, Abraham, Sasha, Michonne, Carl, Tara, Rosita, Eugene and Maggie, out of the box. But the annoying bastards just kept coming and coming. They were running out of time. Out of the corner of his eye, Glenn saw someone fighting a ginger woman. One of Terminus. The other woman was covered in walker's guts, using the disguising trick but he could see (H/C) hair. But he didn't think anything of it. She was probably just another hostage who was taking advantage of the situation. He couldn't worry about her now, he had to worry about his family. Daryl saw Carl and Rick talking for a split second before the chaos resumed, and they were fighting their way out, guts and blood spilling everywhere.

Anywhere you looked, there was a walker or a Terminus person. Daryl was leading, keeping his people safe from the front, and Rick was a the back. They were storming ahead, so so close to the fence. But Rick and Carl were slowing, from exhaustion and panic. Rick heard an awful yell from his son and spun around to see a walker gripping his sleeve and trying to pull his arm to its mouth. Rick went to rush forward, but the walker was suddenly dead, crumbling to the ground. Carls fearful eyes looked over and saw a woman, covered in guts, (H/C) sticking to her face and (E/C) eyes looking at him almost tenderly. Rick ran to his son, and pulled him away, staring the woman down. But she only narrowed her eyes and yelled "Go!" before disappearing into the crowd of walkers. Within seconds, she was gone. They didn't have time to dwell on it now. Gareth and the few members of Terminus that remained started shooting at them from the rooftop. They rushed through the rest of the walkers, ducking bullets and stabbing walkers and met their group at the fence. Daryl climbed over first, then Abraham lifted Eugene over, then Carl and the rest of the group, leaving himself for last.

When they were back at the bag, Daryl crouched down, taking a deep breath. Shit, that was way too close. They'd gotten lucky. Whoever had caused an explosion had saved their damn lives. And he didn't even know who it was. Maybe one of the idiots at Terminus had fucked something up and caused it. Or maybe someone was looking out for them. Hell if he knew. Hell if he cared anymore. His family was safe and that's all the mattered now. Rick started digging out the guns, mumbling out a plan as the rest of the group caught their breath, letting what just happened finally sink in. That is until Rick started talking about back to Terminus. They'd barely gotten out the first time! Some of the group started arguing back, but Daryl didn't give a shit anymore. He just leant against a tree, watching, listening.

A rustle of branches made him turn around and he froze, as the rest of the group did. They stared wide-eyed as Carol came out of the trees. They watched in amazement as Daryl sprinted over and dragged her into a tight hug, grasping onto her desperately and lifting her off her feet. She laughed lightly, grinning when he pulled back. Holy shit. She was alive. She was alive. She'd saved them. If anyone saw the tears running down his cheeks, no one said anything.

Daryl's feet were aching. The roads seemed to stretch on for miles. But the pain in his feet was nothing compared to the anger and undealt with grief. The losses were building up and up and he didn't know how much more he could take. Half the camp, Sophia, Dale, Shane (but no one really missed him), Patricia and Jimmy (though admittedly he didn't know them that well), Lori, T-Dog, Merle, Andrea, almost everyone who'd come to stay at the prison, Hershel, Bob, Tyreese... Beth. The only thing he was holding out hope for was his girl. Her ma lived in South Carolina, and with them being en route to Washington, he had to pray that maybe she made her way up there. Carl, Little Ass-Kicker and the hope of his girl were the only things keeping him going.

He'd started losing hope in his girl. Beth had died, and he'd been right fucking there. He was a hundred and more miles away from (Y/N). Now, she was strong, but he doubted she could live in a world like this. It'd destroy her. While he wanted to hold out hope and go looking for her, where would he even start? She could be anywhere by now, and there's no guarantee he'd even find her. An awful part of him wished she was dead. A disgusting, horrifying part of him, deep deep down, hoped she was dead so she didn't have to live a life like this. Didn't have to suffer like this. Deep down, Daryl knew she would hate the person he'd become. Probably hate him for what happened to Merle, too. He couldn't face that. He couldn't. Carol could see the way his eyes had drained. She could see what was happening. She was exhausted and hungry, but she wasn't blind.

She'd been hovering. Watching over him like a damn mother hen. He was getting sick and fucking tired of her constant gaze. He knew she only wanted what was best but god if he wasn't getting frustrated. Daryl could practically hear his girl's voice in his head, lecturing him about not being so cold to her, since Carol had done everything to protect him, and was his best friend. He snorted quietly at the thought of his girl standing there lecturing him, and being worried more about him and Carol than finding supplies. Sounded like her.

It was quiet now. No one spoke unless they had to. They were too weak. They hadn't had proper food in months, living off the little amount of food Daryl could hunt down, and the water was so scarce, some people were starting to get dizzy. Most of the food and water went to Judith and Carl now anyway. Everyone was hoping. Some, for the few that still believed in that shit, were even praying that we'd get some rain. But apparently, someone had seen them first and left them some water. Daryl and Rick eyed it suspiciously. Nowadays you could never be too careful. Abraham was still angry, but that wasn't anything new. That man was filled with more rage than anyone Daryl had ever met, except perhaps Merle. Shit, he missed that son of a bitch. Abraham was so angry that he smacked the bottle out of Eugene's hands when he went to take a sip. The atmosphere bristled, and Daryl could already tell an argument was about to start, and he shook his head, readjusting the bag and his crossbow. But it was all cut short when there were a few claps of thunder. Everyone looked up, hopeful glances being exchanged when the skies opened, and rain began pouring. Tara and Rosita started laughing, lying down on the floor, and some people opened their mouths to drink it before Rick ordered people to get out any bottles they had and filling them with the water. Daryl couldn't smile. He couldn't find enjoyment in it, and by the looks of it, neither could Sasha or Maggie. Every day it got harder or harder to meet her eyes. There was no blame on him, so he had no reason for guilt, but he couldn't help it. And it was eating away at him. Had been for the past three weeks.

The group were sat around a tiny fire, lightning flashing every so often and illuminating the room. Maggie was laying alone on the opposite end of the barn, and Carl was curled up behind Rick, clutching Judith to his chest. Carol walked over and plopped herself next to Daryl. Glenn was sat on his other side, engaging in an entirely different conversation. Daryl gave her a glance. She was staring at him, eyes narrowed like she was trying to read his mind, and it was starting to freak him out.

"You can't give up on her," Carol muttered, after a long moment of her staring him down. He scoffed, looking away. The hell did she know anyway. "You haven't given up yet, why give up now?"

"It's been nearly two years Carol. She's probably dead by now," He grumbled, watching the glint of his ring in the light of the fire. She shoved him lightly, her eyes moving to a glare.

"Don't talk like that," She snapped, quietly. Daryl kept his eyes on his ring, but he could feel the irritation starting to radiate off her. "You still wear your ring. You still carry that recorder. You've nearly broken a man's arm to get it back for god's sake. You can't give up on her. I won't let you."

For some reason, that got under his skin, and he could feel anger pouring in. It bubbled and boiled and his cold stare fixed on her so suddenly that Carol almost jumped.

"The hell ya gonna do to stop me?" He snarled. She didn't know shit about (Y/N) who the fuck was she to talk about his girl "You've never even met her. Ya don't know what she's like."

"No, I don't, but I know how much you love her. How much you're relying on her. And I can see how guilty you feel about Beth," Daryl was glaring now, and Carol understood she was walking into dangerous territory. "It wasn't your fault. There was nothing you could have done. But you can't start separating yourself from us, from (Y/N). You'll get yourself killed."

"What do you care? I ain't your responsibility," He growled before picking up his crossbow before walking to a corner of the barn. Carol watched him leave and made no move to stop him. Glenn gave her an alarmed look, only having heard the tail end of the conversation. Who the hell was (Y/N)? Carol shook her head, telling him not to push it and he reluctantly looked back to the others, who were still deep in conversation. She then noticed the little recorder where Daryl had been sitting. It had a few chips, and it was dirty as hell, but Daryl had gone through hell to keep it safe. Carol picked it up and spun it in her hands, before opening Daryl's bag, wrapping it in a bit of cloth and tucking it away.

How they'd managed to convince Rick, he had no idea. Though, in honesty, Daryl thought he would have jumped at the opportunity to be somewhere where Carl and Judith would be safe. But after Terminus, he couldn't blame the man for being sceptical. This guy, Aaron, there was something off about him. He couldn't put his finger on what. Either way, part of him was relieved to be out of that damn barn. Stunk of horse shit. But getting holed up in a car service place tucked into a wall with a guy with a broken ankle, wasn't exactly that much better. Daryl's family was safe. Rick's family was safe. That's what mattered. When dawn rolled around, he was startled to find himself actually hoping for this place to work. They didn't have many other choices if it didn't. They couldn't have another Terminus situation. They were all piled into the small RV and an even smaller car, and it was definitely too close quarters for Daryl to be comfortable. As usual, it went to shit when the battery went flat. Glenn was quick to use the skills that Dale had taught him to fix it up, but Daryl had taken refuge on the roof, looking out for walkers. He could feel Carol and Glenn's eyes on his back. He'd much prefer it if that could just fuck off rather than giving those annoying ass pity looks.

When they pulled up, they heard a noise they hadn't heard in a long time. Children laughing. It felt almost alien to them, and maybe this place could work out. There were no kids at Terminus. Barely any at Woodbury. If kids were having fun here, maybe they had a chance. Collectively, the group sucked in a breath as the gate started to pull back. When it opened, a ton of pristine houses were revealed down long roads, children running in the street. Aaron helped Eric limp inside and someone took him and started leading him off, presumably to the infirmary. A bristle in the bushes made the group snap over, and Daryl didn't hesitate on pressing the trigger and picking up the possum, presenting it to the man behind the gate.

"We brought dinner!"He declared, and he heard some of the group stifle chuckles and smiles. The man behind the gate looked at them warily.

"It's okay, Nicholas," Aaron reassured, placing his hand out "C'mon in guys."

Gradually, the group started wandering in, Glenn and Daryl in the lead, as Rick held Judith tightly.

"Before we take this any further, I need you all the hand over your weapons," Nicholas stated, eyeing Daryl carefully, who still held the possums tail "Stay, you hand them over."

"We don't know if we want to stay," Rick responded instantly, somehow still looking threatening even with a baby at his hip "If we were gonna use them, we would have started already."

"Let them talk to Deanna, first," Aaron turned his head to Nicholas but was turned back by Abraham, who had his shoulders squared.

"Who's Deanna?"

"She knows everything you wanna know about this place. Rick, why don't you start?" Aaron advised, and Rick tilted his head. Daryl observed him, noticing the suspicion behind his eyes. Rick turned around at the sound of a walker snarling and signalled Sasha to take care of it. Headshot. Daryl tried to hide his smirk and the astounded look on Nicholas' face. Guy seemed like a jackass. He wanted to keep his eye on him.

The group were forced to sit outside on someone's porch (a house! what the fuck) while Rick was lead inside by a short, blonde-haired woman. She seemed innocent but she was hiding something. Daryl and Michonne could see it. In the way she held herself, the way she talked, the way she looked at them. When Rick came out about fifteen minutes later, Daryl was next to go in. He was still holding the possum, crossbow on his back as he was lead into the living room. It was nice. Untouched, as if the world hadn't ended outside the gates. He hadn't been in somewhere like this since before the apocalypse. Since (Y/N). He kept messing with random shit he could find. Pacing, restlessly. Deanna just sat on the couch opposite, her eyes following where he went. Acting like a damn hawk. She already pissed him off, and she hadn't even done anything. There was a video camera set up, recording everything. He had to thank Carol later for putting his back in his bag.

"You're welcome to sit, Daryl. I won't bite," Deanna finally said, and he looked up at her through long greasy hair, frowning.

"Yeah, I'm alrigh'" He replied quietly, turning to look at the bookshelf behind him. He didn't really know what he was doing, he just didn't want to have this awkward conversation and was trying to avoid it as long as possible.

"Daryl, do you want to be here?"She questioned, a touch of impatience in her voice but Daryl still didn't look at her.

"The boy and the baby. They deserve a roof. I guess," He answered, turning his ring with his thumb as it dangled by his side. Apparently, she didn't miss the motion.

"You're married?"

"Does it matter?" He shot back, voice becoming icy and there was a glimmer of amusement in her eyes.

"You'd be surprised," Deana smiled slightly and he glared back at her, his suspicion only raising further.

"The hell does that mean?" Daryl challenged, getting closer. She shook her head, smile dropping, before standing up and moving to turn the video recorder off.

"You're free to go."

"You okay?" Carl asked, making Daryl jump a little as he appeared at his side. Daryl knocked the brim of his hat, making Carl chuckle.

"That woman asks some weird questions," Was his reply, before he sat down, waiting for the others to finish their 'interviews'.

Rick looked between the two houses in amazement. He and Carl had left after Carl had finished talking, trusting Glenn and Maggie to look after his daughter. Aaron has whisked the pair away presenting them with the two houses they were giving the large group. He'd since walked away, walking down the road towards his house to look for Eric. Rick looked at his son, who had a grin on his face at the promise of being in a house again. Carl looked out after Aaron. A woman, maybe a little younger than Rick rushed out as Aaron neared, and wrapped her arms around him. Even from the distance, he could see the relief on her face and Aaron laughed lightly before leading her back inside. He was sure he'd find out who that was later.

Rick had insisted on staying in one house for the time being, just for safety, but Daryl wasn't complaining. He'd rather his family be together if they couldn't have their weapons. He felt almost naked without his crossbow. And he'd made very good work of pretending not to see Carl's knife. Smart kid. Daryl was sat next to Little Ass Kickers crib, peering over it protectively as Michonne came back through from the bathroom. She and Rick exchanged a hushed conversation when a knock at the door sounded, and Deanna walked in. She started talking but paused when she saw everyone huddled together rather than being separated. She gave some bullshit speech on family and how amazing it was, and Daryl rolled his eyes. He couldn't help it.

"Everybody said you gave them jobs," Rick said, but it sounded more like a question and Deana made a hum of agreement.

"It's part of this place. Looks like the Communists won after all," God if someone didn't put a bolt through her brain soon Daryl swore to whatever was up there he would. Rick gave a polite smile but it was strained.

"Well, you didn't give me one," He stated

"I have. I just haven't told you yet. Same with Michonne. I'm closing in on something for Sasha. And I'm just trying to figure Mr Dixon out, but I will," Daryl scoffed at that. Yeah, it took his group two years and they still haven't. Good luck with that. Deanna gave Daryl a smile, but it felt condescending. She looked back up at Rick "You look good."

And she was gone.

The group took off the next morning, going to explore, but Daryl stayed on the porch. Rick exited, raising his eyebrows at the redneck.

"They said explore. Let's explore," He almost commanded but he was smiling. First time in a long time.

"Naw, I'll stay," Daryl said, shifting. Deanna had dropped by earlier this morning and handed him his crossbow. He was still extremely confused as to why but he sure as hell wasn't going to complain about it. Rick sighed, closing the door behind him.

"C'mon brother. Just come with us for a few minutes. Then you can come back here and brood all you like. Just pretend for a few minutes," Rick teased. Daryl scowled but Rick could see the playfulness in his eyes. It was nice, seeing Daryl slightly more at ease even if he was struggling to settle.

There was a long pause before Daryl gave a grunt of agreement, grudgingly picking up his crossbow and shoving it on his back. The pair jogged to catch up with the others, soon falling into the crowd of their family. They saw Aaron coming out of his house and Maggie raised a hand in a small greeting. He stepped over and the group started chatting. Daryl could tell the recruiter was hoping to clear the water a little bit. He didn't seem like a bad guy but Daryl couldn't let his guard down. But then someone followed out of Aaron's house, walking out onto the road and looking over to the family with a gleeful smile. Carl waved at her, recognising her from yesterday and she waved back. But the smile dropped, and Daryl froze in place like a statue. Carol noticed how stiff he'd gone beside her and followed his eyes and she froze too. A small smile climbed onto her lips. He couldn't breathe. He could hardly believe what he was seeing. He had to be dreaming. This couldn't be real.

"Daryl?"

But it was, she was right there. (H/C) hair blowing in the slight breeze and her eyes sparkling with building tears. Holy shit.

(Y/N).

His (Y/N).

Carol watched as the crossbow fell from his shoulder and Daryl shoved past his group and sprinted. He didn't think he'd moved so fast in his whole damn life because he blinked and all of a sudden, she was stood right before her. She stood there, taking him in. He couldn't breathe. She was there. She was right there. And he lunged for her, pulling her into him tightly, and placing a hand on the back of her head protectively. He could feel her fingers digging into his skin through his jacket, and he knew he couldn't let her go even if he wanted to. She was alive. She was here! Daryl wasn't a crier, that was for sure, but hell, he couldn't stop the relieved sobs he was letting out into her neck. She was whispering to him, though a trembling voice, but he couldn't hear what she was saying. He just felt her, her breath on his neck, his fingers on his back, her hair tickling his nose, her tears on his chest.

"Holy shit, "Was all he could get out, and (Y/N) let out a weepy laugh, pulling back just enough so she could see his face. Her hands moved to hold his face, running her thumbs over his cheeks.

"If you haven't brushed your teeth, I am going to kill you, Dixon," she grinned, before pulling him into a hard kiss. He held onto her, even as the outside world started coming back to him. As he heard the confused voices of his family and Aaron. As he heard the joyful, but the slightly teary voice of Carol.

He just held onto her.

TAGS: OPEN

Tags (for this series): @graniairish @fuseburner @gloomystorm @bxxbxy @browneyes528 @hoemadegrace​

[amintyworld]

It’s a Wonderful Life, Tommy - Dream SMP Holiday Oneshot

A/N: So this started as an imagine that I wanted to do a bullet fic for, but I got carried away and kind of, sort of, wrote an 11-page fic? So, sorry for the extra setup at the beginning. It’s inspired off two of my favorite Christmas movies: ‘It’s a Wonderful Life’ and ‘A Christmas Carol’ and I ended up with a pretty good even blend of the two, and I’m pretty proud of this. Here’s my Christmas gift to the fandom, I hope you enjoy! So, grab your hot cocoa and Christmas cookies, settle into a blanket and enjoy this holiday tale. -Minty

Summary: After a nasty fight with Tubbo combined with Tommy’s worsening depression, its Tommy’s final straw as he decides he’s ready to give up. But, it looks like Tommy’s condition and situation has gotten some supernatural attention.

TW: Suicide attempt, talks of suicide, heavy blood and gore, manipulation and blame, major character deaths(?), insanity. (Please tell me if I need to tag anything else!)

-----------------------------------

Imagine it’s Christmas Eve but he didn’t end up going with Technoblade and he’s still alone. He’s still as depressed as ever, and on top of all of that, he had an argument when Tubbo tried to visit that ended worse than anything Tommy ever imagined. 

Tommy’s trying his best to enjoy the holiday and ends up wandering around, stumbling upon Technoblade’s house - where Ghostbur and Techno are both singing carols while decorating a tree. Tommy’s heart aches with loneliness as he quickly leaves before anyone could see him through the window. No one had left him any presents (Dream burned them all secretly) and he kept looking over Dream’s gift - a white porcelain mask with eyes and no mouth, like Dream’s. Dream claimed in his note that things were getting dangerous and it was to keep him safe and hide his identity. Something about it felt off, though. 

He didn’t want to assume the worst of his friend, but it seemed more like a gift Dream wanted him to have instead of something he wanted. That’s why after a while of just holding it and tracing over the details with his fingers he put it away in his chest. He climbed his tower again and was getting ready to aim for the top of a tree, done with everything - with trying to hope when everything he ever had, his friends and family, were gone. He kept searching for a point to his suffering and found none, so he decided to finally end things for good.

A voice called out to him. It was Phil.

“It’s not really the season for giving up hope, now is it?”

Tommy was of course startled, as a floating spirit in the form of what looks like Philza, his dad, flying and floating in front of him... with wings? Tommy is trying to compose himself while trying to discern whether or not his ‘thing’ is real - touching his shoulder only to touch absolutely nothing, yelling at it to see if it’s a demon, while the spirit is nonetheless, unimpressed. “What are you? Are you really Phil, or am i just... hallucinating again?”

“I am quite real - you can call me your guide of sorts. I’ve taken the form of your loved one to make you feel more at ease. Anyway, Tommyinnit, I’m sent here to stop you from jumping from this pillar.”

“Why exactly should I listen to you? For all I know, you’re just another weird vision like Tubbo was. I’m really tired of my messed up mind, just go away.”

“I’m afraid I can’t do that, Tommy. It’s my sworn duty to step in here, for your behalf.”

“My behalf?! I assure you, whoever you are, I’d be happier dead than to live without anyone who really cares about me.”

“How about a deal then? I will show you three places, events, and if I can’t change your mind, I’ll leave you alone.”

“No lying?”

“Why would I?”

“Okay, sure.” Tommy still didn’t think any of this was real, but he was honestly curious where this weird dream was going. The Guide took Tommy’s hand and told him to trust him, and they both jumped, Tommy yelling, confused, as he fell, fell, fell, preparing for impact and probably death, instead of falling into... snow?

He shivered and looked around - how is the sun up, it was the night a few seconds ago...? The Guide took his hand with a comforting smile and led him through the trees when Tommy froze in his tracks. A house... he KNEW that house. “Look familiar?”

Shouts nearby made his head whip around as a snowball raced toward him. He braced for impact, but it didn’t hit him. Instead, it hit a tree trunk behind him. Laughter filled the air as he heard a familiar voice behind him yell. “HA, your aim is shit, Tommy!” He saw a young version of Technoblade rush through the bushes, and... that was him... a young version of him in the trees, snowball in hand, angry at his missed shot. 

“Yeah, well I still have the high ground, you arsehole!” He noticed a young Tubbo next to him, a snowball in each hand wearing a green coat that was way too big for him. He laughed, remembering it - Phil didn’t have money for a new coat for Tubbo that year, so he gave him his older one to use, and the poor kid kept falling over and tripping on it. Tubbo handed Tommy another snowball as they both pelted the snowballs down as Techno rushed into some cover behind a rock. 

“This is Christmas by the lake, where Phil grew up. But, how can I see it, that was over six years ago-?” Tommy turned to the guide who showed him who his whole body turned translucent. 

“In order to show you events, we must travel to that point in time, but we’ll only be observers, we can’t interact with them.”

Tommy looked over as Technoblade pelted Tommy with a snowball hard, making him lose his balance and fall to the snowy ground below. “This is unreal, it’s so clear, how can I recall this in a dream...?”

“I told you, I am a spirit Tommy, your Guide.” Looking around at it all, Tommy couldn’t help but to start to believe him. The smell of gingerbread filled his nose from the house as Wilbur walked out, his hands in the air.

“Okay guys, Phil told me to tell you to come inside-” Before his older brother could even finish his sentence, three snowballs hit him square in the face. “Hey, I’m not even playing!”

“You’re in the kill zone, Wil!” Tubbo shouted from the treetops as if that would explain everything.

“Ugh, why are you all so annoying-”

Techno smirked, looking over at his brother from his spot covered by the rock. “Aw, come on, don’t be a buzzkill Wilby.” Wilbur stopped at the nickname and turned with a fire in his eyes.

“I’ll show you buzzkill-!” He shouted as he threw a snowball at Techno, running for his own cover.

“Look at you, surrounded by your family, your best friend - it seems like you all love each other a lot.”

“Well, of course, we’re family.” Tommy paused, realizing what he said and quickly correcting himself. “At least, we were.” He watched the scene unfold - Philza called them in for cookies and cocoa and they all rushed into the house. While running, Tubbo tripped on his coat and fell again, and Tommy saw himself stay back and help Tubbo to his feet with a smile.

“I bet Tubbo appreciated your friendship, especially then.”

“Well, I knew what it was like to be the new kid in the family, you know? It’s awkward and weird at first to settle into. You’re by yourself for so long it’s hard to get used to being around people all the time who give you so much affection.” He walked over toward the window and looked inside - Phil put on some Christmas music that blasted through the player and Techno covered his ears, begging for something different, making everyone laugh. Wilbur pulled out his guitar as Technoblade practically slammed the ‘stop’ button on the player.

“All of you look close.”

“We are- were,” Tommy said. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter, none of this does - even if they cared for me and loved me then, doesn’t mean they do now.”  

“I thought you said family loved each other no matter what.” The Guide said smoothly. “Why would it make sense for them to stop loving you now?”

“I don’t know...” Tommy breathed, his mind confused and questioning. “Maybe we’re not family. Maybe we... maybe we never were. Anyways, you’ve shown me enough of this to count for the deal, let’s just move on.”

“Hold on, we’re gonna miss my favorite part.” The Guide said as Philza came in with a Santa hat.

“As per tradition in the Sleepy Boys Incorporated Household, me - the Grand Master - shall decide who gets to receive an extra special gift to open before Christmas Day.” Wilbur bounced excitedly on the couch, and Tommy crossed his fingers as they waited. “I have tallied the points-”

“I still think there’s no point system-” Technoblade mumbled as Philza continued.

“And this year, the wearer of the special Santa hat goes to... Tommy!” Phil said as he tossed it over to the boy, who smiled widely. “For your extra help around the house and chores, this year’s for you, buddy.”

“Yay, Tommy!” Wilbur said from the couch as Technoblade smiled and nodded in approval. Tubbo clapped and cheered - this was the first year Tommy had ever been given the hat. Outside the window, Tommy crossed his arms and looked at the snow, knowing what was going to happen next. Young Tommy smiled wide as he clutched the Santa hat in his hands. He looked over to Tubbo for a moment, then to the hat, unknown thoughts in his head. Then, he handed it out to Tubbo. 

“Here. You can have it.”

Tubbo looked confused. “But Tommy, you worked so hard for this - you did extra chores, you helped out Wilbur when his beanie got stuck in the tree... you didn’t curse for an entire week!”

“I know.” He smiled, turning into a smirk. “But, you know, if it was that easy for me to get it this year, I can always get it again. And, since it was harder for you, if I don’t give you the hat now, you probably won’t get it until you’re Phil’s age.”

“Hey, I heard that!” Philza shouted as he carried in a large gift-wrapped box to set on the table.

“But Tommy-” Tubbo tried to interject, but Tommy threw him the hat.

“Come on, I insist,” Tommy said, and the two best friends hugged each other tightly. Outside, Tommy looked at the scene, pressing his hand up against the glass, his heart aching uncomfortably, not being able to tear his eyes away from the tender moment. He turned to the spirit, emotion, and anger on his face.

“Tubbo exiled me, he burned his compass, he didn’t show up to my beach party, he didn’t even come to see me.” His eyes looked cold. “He’s NOT my best friend, let alone my friend!”

The spirit looked calm. “I see.” He slowly turned and began to walk away into the forest swiftly, leaving Tommy scrambling to catch up. 

--------------------------------------

“Spirit... Guide... whatever you are, wait up!” Tommy shouted as he sprinted after the figure through the trees, suddenly being caught by his shirt before he fell into the water. He looked around and noticed he was in L’manburg - the moon just how he left it when the spirit took him to the past. He noticed the Chinese lanterns, the dock, the houses - it wasn’t just L’manburg, it was New L’manburg. The spirit walked up the steps silently and Tommy was quick to follow. “We’re in the present, in L’manburg, but why?”

“I thought you’d be curious to see how your former friend is celebrating tonight - a look without the trouble of trying to hide or break the rules.” The spirit said simply, before holding out his hand for Tommy to take. “Hold on tightly, please.” Tommy gripped the spirit’s hand as he was dragged through a few walls, freaking out a bit until he realized that he was in the same state as a ghost, or like the spirit called it, an observer - so he couldn’t suffocate.

Whatever Tommy was expecting, it certainly wasn’t this. A room filled with torn posters of Technoblade pasted along the walls calling him all sorts of bad things, and a wooden table in the center with four people sitting around it, Tubbo among them. “I just don’t think it’s a good idea anymore, Big Q. With what Dream’s done to Tommy, what if he gets caught in all this?”

Quackity looked upset, his eyes narrowed. “Tubbo, this is our one and only chance to get revenge for our country, and you’re saying to stop all of our work for the small chance, chance that Tommy will show up?”

“He’s a L’manburg citizen, Quackity. As president, it’s my job to protect every citizen-”

“You’d sacrifice the country, Mr. President, everything we’ve worked for, for one person?!” Quackity snapped. Tommy looked on with piqued interest, noticing how both Ranboo and Fundy sunk down a bit on their chairs from the building tension in the room. Tubbo got up and leaned in so he and Quackity’s faces were inches apart. 

“Yes, I would. I’m not going to be responsible for anyone becoming a ghost on my account, Quackity.” Tubbo snapped. “I draw the line at risking innocent lives.”

Tommy couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Even after they yelled at each other, screamed at each other, he... he still... cares?

“I’m questioning your true loyalty to your country, Mr. President - it seems your loyalties lie elsewhere. What kind of President wouldn’t be willing to do anything, make any sacrifice, for the betterment of the country?”

“One like Schlatt. Wilbur maybe. But not me.”

“Then, Mr. President, you’re nothing but a traitor.” Quackity said, pulling out his sword and pointing it at Tubbo. “I’m taking you under arrest.” Tubbo slowly put his hands up, looking over to Fundy and Ranboo, who both looked distraught and stayed silent. 

“Quackity, you’re insane. You’re going to destroy L’manburg to kill Techno and Dream, you’re going to destroy everything we’ve worked to save.” Tubbo protested, but his cries fell on deaf ears as Quackity forced him to give him his stuff and armor.

Tommy’s mind whirred. “Tubbo still cares about me. Even after everything, he’s still my friend.” Tears welled up in his eyes. “I...I can’t believe it.”

“It’s a shame you don’t think the same of him.”

Tommy was quick to respond. “I do, I have, it’s just he’s done so much against me - he burned the compass, he didn’t show up to the beach party-”

Tommy looked over just in time to see Quackity close the jail cell loudly - there was barely enough room for Tubbo to sit or even stand. Tubbo’s hands clutched the bars. “Quackity, don’t do this. Do you even understand what Dream and Techno are capable of?!”

Quackity glared at him. “Of course I do, which is why I need to dispose of them since our leader is too much of a coward to do it himself. Come on guys, we have a festival to prepare for.” Fundy and Ranboo were silent as they passed him, bowing their heads in shame. Tommy walked closer with the spirit to see him pull out...the compass...

The enchanted compass, the matching one to the one Tommy had in his own chest. The one Dream said he burned. That didn’t make any sense, Dream said he- Dream. “Are you tricking me?”

“Why would I do that, Tommy? We made a deal.”

“But that doesn’t make any sense, Tubbo shouldn’t have the compass, it’s supposed to be burned!”

“Ah. Maybe that was the claim that led you astray?”

Tommy silently looked down at Tubbo as he held the compass in his hands, tears welling up in Tubbo’s eyes. “Guess you were right, Tommy. I’m so sorry…” Tommy had no words, thoughts running through his head. This didn’t make any sense. Dream wouldn’t lie to him, he’s his friend. Even so, emotion welled up in his eyes as his stomach formed in knots. 

“Dream wouldn’t lie to me. Stop trying to trick me, I know this isn’t real.”

“But I promised you I’d only show the truth, didn’t I?”

“But this can’t be true - Tubbo’s compass is supposed to be burned, he’s not supposed to cry for me, he's supposed to hate me, they’re all supposed to hate me!”

“What if they don’t, Tommy, and they never have?”

“Even if they didn’t...even if they cared, I’ve caused too much trouble - all of this started because of me. So, wouldn’t it be better if I was gone?” The spirit held out his hand to Tommy.

“Do you want to find out?”

--------------------------------------

After a few moments of hesitation, Tommy took the Spirit’s hand, and quickly was dragged upwards through the wall, into darkness, the spirit’s wings taking them up, up, up, and suddenly… he found himself on the ground. Thunder rolled in his ears as a light shower of rain began to fall toward the ground. He was on a mountain, and his hands gripped the soggy grass between his fingers, feeling the realness of it all. He looked around for his winged spirit but found no one. L’manburg stood around him, and he walked down the dock, noticing a crowd of people gathered around a memorial of sorts.

Curious, he crept closer. Who’s memorial was it? It looked nice too - a small stone cover from the rain, vines and flowers growing all around it. He started to worry - did his death cause someone else’s? He looked over at the crowd - he noticed Skeppy holding Bad close as he cried, and there was Puffy and Ant, who looked dazed by it all, their faces solemn. Oh, over there was Quackity - he crossed his arms and looked to the floor. Fundy sat next to George and Sapnap - his eyebrows furrowed in thought. George held Sapnap’s hand in comfort as tears slid down their cheeks every now and then. Punz and Ponk were in the back.. Oh, there was Ranboo!

His half-enderman friend was shaking, as Ghostbur stood at his side and did his best to comfort him, though even Tommy could tell the ghost was more than distraught over it all. Tommy walked closer… wait, was that Technoblade?! What was he doing here…? Isn’t he wanted in L’manburg? Even more surprising, was the tear staining glisten in his eyes - Technoblade was crying.  It was an odd sight indeed to see his tough friend weep, but Philza was at his side to pull him close, tears rolling down his cheeks as well. 

“He was a hero for L’manburg, and made numerous sacrifices for our country. More than that, he was an uncle, a son, a brother, and a friend to many who knew him.” There was Tubbo, speaking at the podium looking the saddest Tommy had ever seen him. His hands gripped the wood tightly as he shook slightly. “Though he was not with us for long, I think it’s clear to see when I look around this room he touched more lives than he knew. He was brave, strong, and an inspiration to many as someone who encompassed the true values of our nation.. He may be gone, but will always live on in our memories and in our hearts.”

Tommy’s heart dropped as he read the sign: ‘Tommyinnit, joined July 2020, died December 2020. A friend taken too soon.’ This was his memorial, all of them were here… this was HIS funeral! He noticed how Tubbo’s shaking grew more noticable as tears streamed from his eyes that left drops where his speech was prepared. Philza walked up and they both hugged each other tightly, Phil rubbing his back as Tubbo let out a sob and the two walked back to sit with the rest. 

Slowly, one by one people began to walk up to a buried spot on the ground - his green bandana  was tied tightly to the side as it waved in the wind like a flag.  He watched as Ghostbur walked up and left some blue flowers at his grave. “I hope you’re happier, wherever you are. Here’s some blue - I got extra so you won’t run out.” Tommy’s eyes threatened to spill with tears as Ghostbur put a hand on his gravestone. “Both Alivebur and I love you very much, and we’ll miss you a lot, but don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine! I’ll try to take care of Tubbo for you, okay?”

“Okay..” Tommy choked out as a tear slid down his cheek. Ranboo walked up to sit next to Ghostbur, silent. Ghostbur gave him a hug, which he returned before Ghostbur left, walking back into the crowd of people talking. 

“I really should have noticed it sooner, shouldn’t I?” Ranboo said. “I should’ve been there more, did more, did anything… but I… I’m so sorry, Tommy.” His hands were shaking as they reached out toward the gravestone but stopped short of touching it. “You did so much for me, you protected me, and I… I couldn’t even do the same for you. I’m a pretty bad friend, aren’t I?”

“No, no.” Though Ranboo couldn’t hear him or see him, Tommy put his hand on Ranboo’s shoulder as he tried his best not to try, sniffling. “You were the best friend I could ever ask for. You were there for me whenever I needed you. This isn’t your fault.”

Both heard steps behind them and turned to notice Techoblade standing there, no clear emotion in his face. Ranboo quickly left, intimidated by the pig hybrid as he disappeared back into the crowd. Technoblade took his crown off as he approached, kneeling in front of the gravestone, silent for a few moments. “I wish we were closer. I wish I would’ve been there to help you before it was too late. I… I wish you knew how much I loved you, but I guess we’re both too similar when it comes to admitting something like that, huh?” Technoblade smiled a bit before it quickly fell. “I know I didn’t agree with your choices, but that doesn’t mean that I wouldn’t help you, I should’ve let you know that.” Tommy stood, stunned at Technoblade’s words - that he loved him, that he’d miss him. Techno pulled out a folded cloth. “I was going to give you it for Christmas, but Dream had other plans. I’m sorry, it’s the only present I saved from the lava.” Technoblade set it down next to the flowers. “It’s a cape like mine, see? Wilbur kept telling me how cold you were in exile. Partly it was because of that, the other part was because I was too annoyed when you kept trying to steal mine-” Technoblade sniffled, a few tears going down his cheeks that landed in the dirt below. Philza walked up and gave him a tight hug.

“Shh, Techno. It’s okay. I know he would’ve loved it.” Philza said, comforting his eldest. “Now go talk to Ghostbur and make sure he doesn’t wander off with Friend.” Techno just nodded, taking one last look at the grave and placing his hand on the stone, turning and walking off. 

Philza was by far the quietest one of all, running his fingers over the soft green bandana and the top of the gravestone. Tears flowed freely down his cheeks as he took out a small photo in his pocket. It was an old Christmas photo from so long ago - Technoblade had Tommy up on his shoulders, Wilbur was standing at attention in a salute, holding back a laugh as Tubbo chased his scarf, Philza taking a sort of selfie with the camera, the chaos showing in the background. He wedged it in Technoblade’s cloak. “Here, don’t forget us - the good parts of us.” Philza said softly. “Don’t forget that we’ll always love you, no matter what.” Philza wiped away a few tears from his eyes. “I don’t know if I’ll ever know why you did this, and I don’t think I’ll ever really know. I’m sorry I wasn’t a good father to you, and I hope you’re at peace wherever you are.” Philza took a deep breath getting ready to leave when a loud crash interrupted him. 

Tommy, still trying to compose himself and wipe away his tears from his family and friend’s sentiments, looked up in surprise to see Tubbo pissed off, being held back by Technoblade and Puffy, Ghostbur trying to calm him down. Dream got up from his place on the ground, a large crack forming on his white mask. Tubbo yelled, shouted and kicked. “He doesn’t GET to be here, he’s lucky I don’t kill him right now! He’s the one who killed him, he doesn’t get to go near him again!”

Ghostbur looked nervous when Tubbo smacked the blue he offered out of his hand. “Tubbo calm yourself, please, for Tommy-!”

“I didn’t push him off that tower, did I, Tubbo?” Dream’s words were sharp and calm, traced with anger. Everyone fell silent, as Dream approached the President. “I didn’t do anything, if anything, he died because of all of you - you could have stopped me, you could have visited, and you did nothing-”

Without hesitation, Tubbo decked him across the face, his mask flying toward the ground, and suddenly blonde messy hair and piercing green eyes started down at him. “You told him lies, you manipulated him, you made him think he was alone. We may have not done much, even if we knew what you were doing, but at least we didn’t drive him into that depression, Dream. That’s all on you, and you fucking know it.” Tubbo pointed a finger at his chest. “You’ve got some nerve showing up here after everything you did to him. I don’t want you here and I know that he sure as well wouldn’t either.” Tubbo’s eyes narrowed. “So you either leave or we’re settling this right here, right now.”

“Are you threatening me, Mr. President?” Dream smirked. “Not a very wise decision - I’ve beaten you before, I’ve taken everything away from you and watched you beg for mercy.”

“That’s what you don’t understand, Dream.” Tubbo said. “You’ve taken so much away from me I have nothing left to lose.” Dream pulled out his sword but a heavy smack from Tubbo sent it to the floor. “You underestimate just how far I’m willing to go, Dream. You think you’ve seen me upset, seen me angry? You haven’t seen even a fraction of it. I will stop at nothing for Tommy - I don’t even care if you kill me, all I care about is that you’re going down with me.” For the first time in his life, fear flew across Dream’s face.

“Tubbo. Leave Dream alone, he’s not worth it.” Philza said as he turned Tubbo away from Dream and glared down at him. “Just get out of here, Dream.”

“Tubbo never really was the same again after you left.” The guiding spirit turned Tommy’s attention to the side, where he sat at the top of the dome memorial. “You mean a lot to him, and losing you after L’manburg fell to Dream, it was the last straw.”

“Wait, wait, wait. Dream owns L’manburg?! That’s impossible, Tubbo would never allow that to happen.”

“He didn’t.” The spirit replied. “Quackity led the charge against Dream and failed, nearly destroying the nation again before legally surrendering it to Dream. Ranboo was going to let Tubbo out of his cell to help, but when he didn’t hear from you he decided to check on you instead and found your body. As always, Dream traded Quackity L’manburg for something he wanted more than anything - the power to revive Schlatt.”

“Revive Schlatt?!” Tommy’s eyes widened. “Dream knew how to do it all along. So why didn’t he revive Wilbur…?”

“It wasn’t of use to him.” The spirit said. “When you died, L’manburg died with you. Philza fell into a deep depression after losing two of his sons to his own hands, and Technoblade… he went mad.”

“Technoblade went crazy…?!”

The spirit pointed around the corner as they jumped once again, landing on the dock as screams of agony echoed throughout the country. Tommy looked around in disbelief as red blood splattered the ground. He noticed Niki run past him toward the bridge, terrified. A dark shadow passed overhead and Technoblade landed in front of her with a wide smile and crazy eyes. “Where are you going, Niki…?”

“N-nowhere, I was just going to go fishing…”

“Really…? If I knew any better, I would have thought you were trying to leave.” Techno’s eyes narrowed. “You know how Dream feels about people breaking his rules.”

“Technoblade, I’m sorry, please… I promise, I won’t come near the docks ever again-!” Niki pleaded as Techno’s laugh echoed through the walls, turning into… crying? Technoblade sobbed as he leaned on his trident as a sort of staff. Niki approached, sympathetic.

“I want him back, Niki. I just want him back.” Technoblade said. “I’d do anything for him, any goddamn thing…” The crying stopped as Techno looked up, eyes full of anger. “Even if that means ripping the guts out of some lying two-faced bitch who didn’t care enough to save him. Come here you little-!” He charged at Niki, and she took off again, screaming, crying for help.

“N-no… Technoblade stop-!” Tommy cried, but Techno didn’t hear him as he snatched her up and beheaded her in one rip, sending blood everywhere. Niki’s painful screams filled his ears.

“Tubbo managed to take Dream down, and they both died in one of his death traps. Now, thanks to his manipulation, Technoblade is a bloodthirsty warrior with no master to serve. He clings to the bit of sanity he has left, not being able to deal with the guilt of being responsible for your death, so he blames others.”

“This can’t be true. Surely if I died some good would come from it.” Tommy said.

“The only good that would come of your death would be Dream’s, who thanks to Tubbo died much earlier than he was supposed to, and in turn saved his people from another tyrannical ruler.” The spirit said. “As for Ghostbur, well…”

Tommy turned around to notice Ghostbur flying around, wondering in the bloody mess of L’manburg that was too eerily quiet for Tommy’s liking. The spirit was gone again, Tommy was alone. He followed Ghostbur as he stepped over dead bodies and looked inside houses. “Hey Technoblade?” Ghostbur called, looking around. “Hey Techno, I have a fun idea to prank Tubbo with, where are you?” He opened the door to Philza’s house. “Philza? Philza Minecraft?!” He called. “I can’t find Techno, do you know where he… oh, you’re not here either.” He knocked, door to door, calling out for everyone, but it was dead silent. “Quackity?! Niki…? Fundy, where are you?!”

Tommy reached to grab Ghostbur’s hand. “They’re not here, Wil. They’re dead.” But Ghostbur didn’t notice him in the slightest.

“Tubbo?! Fundy…?”

“Ghostbur, they’re dead. You gotta stop, they’re not here.” Tommy said solemnly. “They’re dead because of me, but you gotta stop looking, they’re gone-”

“Sapnap? Bad…?”

“Wilbur please.” Tommy begged. “They’re dead, you have to move on.”

“George…?”

“They’re dead, WIlbur.” Tommy snapped, beginning to cry. He looked around for his spirit friend. “Spirit, can you hear me? I want to go back, please let me go back. I don’t want this to happen, please! Can I change it? Is there still time?! I want to live!”

-------------------------------------

When he opened his eyes, he was in his bed in the tent, the morning sun just peaking above the horizon. He wiped a few tears off his cheeks. Was it all a dream… was it not real…? He scrambled for his calendar - Christmas Day. There’s still time. He could fix everything! He searched in his chest for the compass and his discs as he packed a bag - he looked over the mask for a second, before rushing outside and in a fit of rage, frisbees it into the ocean and watched it sink to the bottom. “Fuck you, Dream.” He cursed, feeling freer than he had in weeks. 

He grabbed his bag and ran off into the forest toward the snow covered house he knew, picking up some blue cornflowers along the way. His heart felt light as he hummed Christmas carols, running along the path he knew until he saw Technoblade’s house in the distance. Running up to the door, he knocked, smiling. The house was decorated beautifully, and when Ghostbur opened the door he smiled. “Hello, Tommy!”

“Hey Ghostbur!” Tommy smiled. “Sorry it’s a bit early, but I just couldn’t wait to come over and say Merry Christmas!” Technoblade came over to the door, looking extremely confused. 

“Tommy…?” Technoblade yawned before Tommy crashed into him with a hug, only making the older increasingly confused. “Um-”

“Merry Christmas, Technobade.” Tommy said happily, handing out the blue flowers to Ghostbur, his eyes lighting up as he smiled. “This is for you.”

“So much blue!” Ghostbur shook with excitement, taking the flowers in his hands. “They’re so pretty, thanks Tommy!”

“You’re welcome.” Tommy said, feeling a sense of dejia vu from it all. Technoblade smiled and placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Wanna come inside? I was just about to make breakfast.” Technoblade’s voice was gentle, and for the first time in a long while Tommy felt really happy. Techno ushered him inside by the fire, insisting that he was turning blue out in the snow without a jacket. Ghostbur realized too quickly that Techno didn’t have a vase for the flowers, but with a bit of help from Tommy, he was beginning to weave a flower crown. It was nice to revisit that - he remembered how Philza taught them all how to weave flowercrowns when they were younger, and how to make an acorn whistle, which he quickly regretted. Tommy laughed as he remembered Phil’s face as all three of them whistled all the way home so loud they scared away any animals within a 100 mile radius, for sure.

Techboblade was quiet but content, relaxed, and happy. After a nice breakfast of eggs and toast - the first good breakfast Tommy had in ages, which he finished in record time - Wilbur stood under the tree to open gifts excitedly like he was a child again. As they all settled in, a quick knock on Technoblade’s door interrupted them. “Hello- Oh… hey Phil.”

To his surprise, Tommy and Wilbur couldn’t see their dad at all behind the large pile of wrapped boxes in his hands. His breaths were labored as he spoke. “I hope I’m not late-”

“No, no. In fact, you’re just on time.”

“I was looking for Tommy’s house everywhere and then I realized I went the wrong way, and then he wasn’t there-” Philza began, walking in as he noticed Tommy sitting on the floor. “Well, there you are.”

“Here I am.” Tommy said with a sheepish smile. “Do you need help with that?”

“Please.”

After all of Phil’s gifts were added to the growing collection under the tree, his father pulled Tommy in for a quick hug. “I’m glad you’re here. Christmas wouldn’t be the same with you, you know.”

“I’m glad you didn’t forget me.” Tommy admitted softly, and Phil squeezed around his middle a little tighter.

“Never.” Philza whispered in response, making the younger tear up a bit at the words in joy. When they both pulled away Tommy wiped his eyes, not being able to help his bright smile. “Alright, we’ve got some presents to open, don’t we?”

“We may have to do mine first, I didn't have much time to wrap-” Tommy said as he grabbed his bag and searched. Wilbur proudly showed off his Blue flower crown with glee, making the other two smile at his child-like cheer. Technoblade stilled as Tommy held out a diamond for him. “I’m sorry, I was in a bit of a hurry, I know you have netherite, if you don’t want it-”

“I love it, Tommy.” Technoblade said as he took the diamond and held it in his hands. “It means a lot to me you’d give me it. Thank you.” The two shared a smile before Techno’s face turned into a smirk. “Plus, you’re poor, it was the best you could do, anyway-”

And, as Philza admired and thanked Tommy for the stone sword, Tommy couldn’t help but notice a figure in the window, a figure he thought he’d never see again. His Guardian Spirit, looking inside from the window at the scene with a warm smile. As the spirit looked inside the joyful house, Tommy could distinctly recall a voice in his head echoing words that he’d never forget.

“It’s a wonderful life, isn’t it Tommy?”

[roguesandsaviors]

What’s in a Name?

Fandom: Sweet Virginia

Characters: Sam Rossi, Maggie, Madison (OFC) (mention only)

Pairing: None

Summary: Sam has bonded with one of the bottle puppies that Madison had and decided to keep him. The problem is he can’t seem to name him.

Word Count: 1,592

Rating: SFW

Warning: None

A/N: Mistakes are all my own as it is un-beta’ed. Hope everyone enjoys.Special thanks to @darlingshane​ for being excited about the little bit that she read, which was enough to prompt the end of this little fic. It feels so nice to finish something and get it posted!

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

The small whines pulled Sam from his sleep. He grunted and rolled, having a moment of difficulty in pushing himself out of the bed. That would be the sound of the pup that he was taking care of. After bottle feeding the little thing, he couldn’t part with him. Was it smart? No. He didn’t need another thing to take care of but he didn’t have it in his heart when the pup seemed so attached to him. The quickly growing dog was bouncing by the door, tail wagging and continuing it’s small whines.

“Okay boy. I’m up. Hold on.” Sam grabbed the leash that was hanging by the door, quickly throwing on his jacket over his shirtless form, and stepped outside with the pup. The motel parking lot was quiet, residents asleep or tucked away at this time of the night. It didn’t take long for the pup to do his business, picking a spot not too far from the door. Sam was grateful for that with the ache in his leg. Giving the dog a soft praise, he led him back into the room. Without prompt, he moved over to the bed and hopped up. Sam chuckled and shook his head.

“Oh, you know better than that.” Sam moved over to the bed and tried to shoo the dog off of the mattress. A small whine came and he stretched out more. “No, no, no. You don’t get to sleep in the bed. You are going to be too big to be sharing one once you are a little older. Out of the bed pup.” The dog whined again. Sam knew that he really had to name the dog. Nothing had seemed to fit him just yet so he had stuck to a couple of generic names.

Huffing, Sam picked up the pup and settled him down into his bed. The sad eyes that looked up at him were almost enough to cause him to break. Almost. He knew how big the pup was going to end up getting so he couldn't allow himself to be too soft. Once the pup was full size, he would probably end up taking up most of the bed from what Madison had told him to expect. The little ball of fluff huffed again but ultimately settled down, causing Sam to laugh.

"I know you don't wanna be in your bed. It's for the best though pup. We'll get you a nice big bed once you are done growing," he promised the puppy before moving back to the bed himself. He would have to talk to Madison more about training and what he could do to keep the pup off of the bed. That could come tomorrow. For now, he needed some more sleep.

***** The day started off quietly, something that he was thankful for as he ended up having to get up a few more times with the pup. He made his way to the office, eager to get himself some coffee. The pup was under one arm as he entered, immediately getting an aww coming from Maggie who was sitting at the counter.

He chuckled and was happy to hand the fifteen pounds over to her.

"You say that now. It isn't so cute when he keeps you up all night."

"Oh he can't be that bad, Sam." She scratched the pup behind the ears. "Maybe he is just grumpy and annoying you because you haven't given him a name." Sam nearly rolled his eyes, knowing that wasn't why the dog was acting up but restrained himself, deciding to humor Maggie instead.

"Yeah, I'm sure that's the reason. But he knows I'm getting around to it. Still trying to figure out what's going to fit him. Gotta know what his personality is going to be before he can find a name that works with him." Maggie laughed.

"You've had nearly 10 weeks Sam." He sipped his coffee, knowing that he was in a losing argument. She was right. He had more than ample time to find what worked and chose a name for his new companion. "You know he isn't going anywhere. He is firmly attached to you." He stiffened a little when the last bit came from Maggie. Subconsciously had he been worried about that? It wasn't something he wanted to devote a lot of thought to at the moment. There were plenty of other things that needed his attention.

"You mind watching him? I gotta go replace the window in 120." Maggie shook her head.

"Not at all. Though I'm sure he would end up sticking at your side. Maybe you could even train him to grab you tools. He seems like he would be smart enough for it. I mean he already knows a few commands, sit and stay." That wasn't something he had thought about either.

"Yeah, I guess I could talk to Madison about that. Ain't a half bad idea."

"Nope. Because it's mine," she teased. Sam chuckled and shook his head.

"Yeah, yeah. You got all the brains here. Which is why you need to get to your homework," he pointed out, a smile now on his face. The pup was content in her arms, yawning even though he had just gotten up. "And it seems like he might be too lazy for that sort of thing. He just got up and he's ready for a nap."

"Don't listen to him. I'm sure you will be a fantastic helper." Sam chuckled again before heading out to get to work on replacing the window. The pup was in trusted hands for now.

He was half way through getting the window installed when Maggie came out to him. The pup was with her, trotting alongside her but his ears were pinned back. Something was wrong. He brushed his hands against his jeans and turned to give her his full attention.

"What's wrong?"

"There's a guy giving me a hard time. Doesn't want to give the deposit up front. You mind coming and talking to him?" Sam nodded, setting down his tools. He may not have liked confrontation but he wasn't going to let anyone give Maggie a hard time.

"Yeah, yeah. Of course. Come on." He motioned for her to follow as he moved back towards the office. The pup stayed right between them, trotting along.

The man was still standing at the counter and he looked displeased. Sam sighed softly before making his way behind it, Maggie behind him and out of the line of fire for now. Just how he wanted it really.

"What seems to be the problem sir?" The pup sat at the door as if to guard it. Sam glanced at him for a moment before turning his attention back to the customer.

"You need some better help at the front desk. This one was asking for a deposit ahead of time, in a place like this." Sam bit the inside of his cheek to be able to keep his composure.

"Sir, that is the policy for any guest. You'll find most motels and hotels in this area request a deposit up front, especially if you are looking to stay two weeks." The man just seemed to grow more agitated.

"You have to be kidding me."

"You don't have to stay. You are more than welcome to find some other place to rent for however long you need. We don't need your business if that's how you are gonna act," Sam told the man, firmly without being nasty. It was the truth. He wasn't going to find many other places to stay but he wasn't going to fight with the man either. It was going to go down how he wanted, not the jerk standing in front of him.

"Whatever. I'll just take my business elsewhere then." The man moved to the door, picking up the pup to move him. Sam immediately tensed. The pup actually growled before throwing his head around, smacking the man hard in the nose. "Fuck!" It wasn't enough to break it but that had to hurt, judging by the watering eyes. Sam immediately strode forward and took the pup from the man.

"Don't touch my dog again," he warned, seeing the look on the man's face. "Now leave." The pup was still disgruntled in his arms but at least was calming down now. The man didn't say another word as he stormed out of the office and headed for his car. Sam looked down at the pup and found himself smiling.

"Well, I think we found a proper name for him." Maggie moved over to check on him to make sure he was okay.

"And what's that?" She asked as she reached out to pet the puppy's head.

"Slinger." Maggie cocked her head to the side.

"What's that mean?" She had a feeling there was something behind it.

"It's what a bull was called who bucked his head and tried to smash a rider with it or his horns." Maggie laughed and Sam couldn’t keep the smile off of his face.

"I guess that fits after that little display. What do you think, Slinger?" The puppy barked, his tail going even as Sam held him. "I think he likes it."

"It's settled then. His name is officially Slinger." He scratched Slinger behind the ear and found himself smiling despite the confrontation that they just had. It seemed like Slinger was really there to stay now that he had his name and Sam found himself not minding at all.

[arrowofcarnations]

Hold on to Me - An O’Knutzy YSAMS au

Based on a discord conversation about what would happen if O’Knutzy were dropped in the "Your Stars Are My Stars" universe. Planning on writing three parts for this; here is part one.

YSAMS was written by the incomparable Hazel @lumosinlove. Finn, Logan and Leo were created by her and appear in two of her wonderful fics, "Sweater Weather" and "Coast to Coast." This is just a little love letter to her brilliant characters and stories, and to the incredible SW/C2C fandom, who inspired this fic with their collective genius. I hope you guys enjoy it!

~

Finn met the gaze of his opponent across the rickety folding table, raised an eyebrow, and leaned back in his chair with a self-satisfied smirk. “Go fish.”

“You gonna make that joke every time we play cards?” Logan said with an eye roll, leaning forward to drop a handful of the ketchup packets they were using as makeshift poker chips onto the pile between them. His dog tags caught the sunlight streaming in through the open tent, making Finn squint. “Come on, put up or shut up.”

“You want this crusty-ass ketchup that bad, huh?” Finn teased, grinning widely now. He took a good, long look at his hand—long enough that it was obvious he wasn’t actually considering the cards at all—before pushing his share of single-serving Heinz to the middle of the table and staring Logan down, a challenge in his eyes. All in.

Logan raised his eyebrows and shook his head once in disbelief. “Your funeral, Harzy.” He laid his cards out; Finn watched as he turned over the four, six, seven, ten, and king of spades.

Finn blew out a long breath, stretching the moment out just a little before showing his hand. “I don’t know,” he said, turning over his cards with a flourish. “That’s pretty good, but…”

He watched Logan’s expression morph from quietly pleased to confused to indignant. “You have nothing.”

“Yep.”

“Then why’d you go all in?”

“I felt good about it. My lucky number was in there.”

Finn bit the inside of his cheek to stop himself from full-on beaming as Logan let out a frustrated groan, getting up from the table and tossing a ketchup packet at him. “You’re fucking annoying, you know that?” Logan said. “You never play for real.”

“Aw, come on, Tremzy,” Finn said as the plastic bounced off his cropped hair and onto his lap. “I thought you were bluffing!”

Logan made his way to Finn’s cot, stretching out on his back with his hands behind his head. “Bullshit,” he muttered. He closed his eyes after a few seconds, seeming to settle in. He’d been doing this since they were at basic together a year ago, falling asleep on a dime during their breaks. More often than not, he chose to do it in Finn’s bed. It made Finn’s stomach flip every single time.

Finn thought he might actually be napping now, but Logan’s voice suddenly cut through the quiet of the tent. “You just like pissing me off.”

That pulled another smile out of Finn, and he pulled his bottom lip between his teeth as he sat on the floor, his back pressed against the cot’s foldable frame. “You do make it fun,” he said. He heard Logan shift behind him before Logan playfully swatted the back of his head. There was a fire constantly simmering just under Logan’s skin; it made it easy to get a rise out of him, and Finn was always doing that, stoking the flames. Anyone who didn’t understand why had clearly never seen how hot Logan was when he got a little—or a lot—worked up. Finn was sure of that.

He’d expected the halfhearted clip to the head; what he hadn’t anticipated was for Logan’s hand to stay put, for him to push his fingers through Finn’s hair once, from nape to crown and back down again. Finn’s breath hitched and his heart sped up as he tried to keep still, not wanting to spook Logan.

“You gonna grow this back out once we’re home?” Logan murmured, flexing his fingers again and letting his blunt nails drag across Finn’s scalp. He did it idly, almost as if he didn’t realize he was doing it at all, but there was something warm and promising in his low voice that knocked Finn off-kilter.

“Maybe,” Finn managed. Logan’s fingers felt incredible, gentle and electric all at once. He wanted to close his eyes and lean into the touch. He wanted to turn around and kiss Logan until they were both dizzy with it.

They were quiet for a moment, and Finn did let his eyes slip shut, imagining what this would be like back home. Sitting on the floor of his East Village apartment, Logan sprawled on his bed, carding a hand through his hair. He was half-lost in it when Logan said, voice quiet, “You should.”

Finn blinked his eyes open. “I should what?”

“Let it grow out.”

“Why?”

“It looks good when it’s longer.” Logan’s hand stilled, then fell away. “Girls will like it.”

The words felt like a bucket of ice water over Finn’s head. Instead of brushing it off like he usually did, though, he turned his head to look at Logan. “Lo.”

They’d been dancing around it for over a year, and Finn was tired of the charade. Logan must have heard it in his voice, because he didn’t say ‘what,’ didn’t play dumb or deny anything. He just looked at Finn for a good, long moment and sighed. “Sorry.” He turned his hand over on the edge of the mattress, palm up. Finn looked from it to Logan’s face before covering it with his own. Logan’s hand was warm against his, broad and tan like the rest of him. “Sorry, I don’t...I don’t know how to do this.”

“Do what?” Finn pushed, voice soft but insistent. Please don’t shut down, he begged silently. Please talk to me.

He watched as Logan’s jaw worked, his mouth set in a frown and his brow creased with worry. He sat up suddenly and looked away, and Finn thought that was the end of it, disappointment like a weight on his shoulders. But then he realized Logan hadn’t let go of his hand; he tightened his grip around it, tugging until Finn was getting up to sit on the edge of the bed facing him. It broke Finn’s heart a little, seeing Logan so clearly conflicted. It hurt every time Logan put a wall up between them, but he was sure his feelings weren’t completely one-sided now, which left more room for sympathy. He didn’t know why this was so much harder for Logan than it was for him, but it was, and Finn couldn’t be angry at him for it.

He wasn’t sure Logan would answer him, but after opening and closing his mouth a few times, he finally met Finn’s eyes and said, “I don’t know how to...let myself.”

Despite the ache he felt for Logan at that, Finn also felt like smiling, because he’d said it. Not all of it, but enough that Finn stopped holding himself back. He shifted until he was knelt between Logan’s legs, holding Logan’s face in both his hands. His heart pounded with how much he’d wanted this boy since the moment they met. “Then let me,” he said, brushing a thumb across Logan’s cheek. His hands shook with anticipation, but his voice was sure and his eyes were steady on Logan’s. “I know how. Let me, okay?”

The worry smoothed out of Logan’s face, and he looked up at Finn pleadingly, eyes open, heart open. Finn loved him so much his throat was tight with it. “Okay,” Logan whispered. “Please, Harz.”

Kissing Logan like this was better than any of the guilty, rushed, after-dark fumbling they’d done before. They gave themselves over to it completely, eyes closed, Finn’s hands cupping Logan’s jaw and Logan’s hands pushing up under Finn’s tee, palms splayed over the warm skin of his back. Finn couldn’t remember a single kiss that held a candle to this, not with anyone. Logan’s hands urged him closer and Finn went willingly, gripping Logan’s hair and crowding in until they were chest to chest.

“Lo,” Finn gasped when they finally broke for air, ducking his head to kiss a heated trail along Logan’s jaw to the shell of his ear. “God, baby,” he breathed, nipping the skin there. Logan whined—at the hint of teeth or the endearment, Finn didn’t know which—and flattened himself against the thin mattress, pulling Finn down with him.

They stopped for a moment, breathing hard and staring at each other, Logan’s thighs pressed solidly against Finn’s flanks and his head boxed in between Finn’s forearms. Logan’s lips were slick and bitten-red and when he smiled up at Finn, wide and relieved and a bit dazed, Finn heard a low, soft noise work its way out of his throat of its own accord.

Logan’s hands stroked up the length of Finn’s back, then slid back down to settle on his hips. Finn could feel them shaking slightly against his skin. “Hi,” Logan said, which had them both laughing, releasing some pent-up nervous energy. Finn pressed his forehead briefly against Logan’s. “Hi,” he replied, wondering if he’d ever stop smiling now that he knew how it felt to hold Logan like this, kiss him. Now that he knew he could. “Hey, kiss me again.”

Logan was licking his way into Finn’s mouth when the sound of a throat being cleared made them freeze. Their heads snapped toward the front of the tent, where Leo was standing and staring at them, blue eyes wide and jaw slack.

"Oh."

To be continued...

[zodiyack]

Baby’s First Bully (800+ Follower Special)

Pairing: Shelby & Gray Family + Female!reader + Elizabeth Shelby (no romance)

Warnings: Slight angst, fluff, possibly pure, heart-melting, cuteness?

Words: 1,407

Summary: It’s a wonder what a grown man would do for a child, let alone what 3 grown men with a gang of other adult men would do for a child that isn’t even theirs.

Note: 1, I’ve started putting a summary? I dunno, I’m toying around for right now. 2, THANK YOU GUYS SO MUCH! As usual, I’m at a loss for words, but it means so so so much to me. I love you all. Thank you. Oh also, Ellie is a nickname for Elizabeth!

Taglist: @matth1w​, @redspaceace​, @simonsbluee​, @peakysputain​, @fandom-puff​, @darling-i-read-it​

Masterlist | Peaky Blinders Masterlist

Elizabeth Shelby Origin

The morning Elizabeth trudged through the front door with watery eyes was the morning the boys had snapped. Polly was the first to notice, as she was waiting for Elizabeth to arrive from her walk home from school.

“Hello Elizabeth! How was- ...What’s wrong?” The smile dropped from her face and she began to inspect her great-niece. “What happened?”

“It’s...it’s nothing.” Elizabeth tried to sneak past her great-aunt, but the grown woman sighed and turned, picking Elizabeth up easily and plopping her down on a chair.

“Nothing is usually something. What. Happened.” When Elizabeth still didn’t respond, Polly shook her head and looked at her with a pleading face, “If you won’t tell me...will you tell one of your uncles?”

Thinking for a second, Elizabeth nodded. “Uncle Finn. He’s a good secret keeper!”

Polly couldn’t help but smile a little, the little girl sitting in front of her convinced by many things, a world of imagination in her little head, had so much to learn. To be young and innocent, Polly bit her lip before trailing off to find Finn, the memories made her heart ache with sorrow, rage, and joy all at the same time.

She watched from the doorway as Finn sat his niece upon his lap, making funny expressions as she whispered into his ear, hand making a tunnel between it and her mouth.

After Finn thanked her and got up, he walked to the kitchen, meeting Polly and sitting with her. “So, what did she say?”

Concern laced the boy’s brows, “She said she didn’t tell you because it’d be tattling and tattling is rude and she doesn’t want to be rude.”

“Bless her soul.” Polly put a hand over her heart, “Alright. What did she say happened?”

“A boy. He was teasing her, pulling on her hair. Laughing at her. Saying rude things to her-”

“She’s being bullied?” The two at the table turned their heads so fast, it was a wonder how they didn’t snap right off their necks. John and Arthur were standing at the doorframe, Tommy arriving just a few seconds afterwards.

“What’s going on? Why are you blocking the door?” He observed the expression on both Polly and Finn’s faces, taking note of their attitudes. “What happened?”

Finn was ready to tell his older brother to bug off, try to keep his promise of secrecy between his aunt and niece, but Polly beat him too it, ready to tell the man of the house what had been going on. “Ellie’s being bullied.”

“What?”

“She’s being b-”

“I heard what you said!” Tommy pushed his brothers aside and sat beside his aunt, taking out a cigarette and lighting it, only for it to be snatched by Pol before he could place it between his lips. “What are we gonna tell Y/n?”

“We aren’t going to tell her anything. If Ellie would like to tell her mother, then she can be the one to tell her mother, but for now, I think she’d like to keep it on the downlow.”

“She told you.”

Finn rolled his eyes, “Yeah, because she trusts me. It was meant to be for me and Pol to know, not you or John or Arthur!” A bang came from the other door, Johnny Dogs falling forward and causing Finn to roll his eyes yet again. “Or Johnny.”

“Yeah about that...I kinda told the others already. They’ll be here any moment.”

“Goddamnit Johnny.” Tommy groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose and squeezing his eyes shut. “Fine. But we ask Ellie what we should do beforehand. We will not be initiating any acts of revenge without her consent.”

“Good idea Tom.” The man smirked before rushing out of the room, fearing Tommy would have a worse reaction had he stayed.

Soon enough, the rest of the Peaky Blinders had arrived, gathering in the kitchen with Tommy and his brothers. Polly walked in with Elizabeth on her hip, smiling nervously. She set the minor down and nodded to the people in their infamous caps.

“Ahem...” Johnny stepped forward and kneeled, taking off his cap and brushing a hand over his forehead, “Miss Elizabeth? We hear you’ve been bullied. Would you like us to teach him a lesson?”

The little girl furrowed her eyebrows and tilted her head, blinking a few times. Then she looked to her aunt and back to Johnny before speaking, “What kind of lesson? Like numbers?”

“No, no. Not that kind of lesson. Like...give him a taste of his own medicine.”

“Oh no! Is he sick?” Some chuckles rang through the room, the people in front of Elizabeth finding humor her naïve responses.

Johnny sighed. “He’s not sick either-”

“That’s good.” Elizabeth smiled again, “ I don’t want him to be sick.”

“We’re asking if you’d like us to make him stop being mean. As in, be mean back to him, tell him to back off.”

A look of horror took place on her face as her eyes widened and she shook her head violently. “No! No! That’s mean! That’s mean, and we’re not supposed to be mean!”

The men next to Johnny looked at each other, Johnny exchanging looks with them as well, with confusion and cluelessness in what they were to do. “Uhm... Well, if you don’t want us to be mean...what do you want us to do?”

Elizabeth thought for a second, frowning as her brows reknitted themselves and her eyes darted around the room. Then, as if an imaginary lightbulb had lit up above her head, she smiled widely.

“I can read! My teacher tells me I’m an excellent reader, and that I’d be an even better writer...” She paused. “That’s when he told me girls can’t write. But that’s okay! I’m gonna prove him wrong one day.”

The men watched as Elizabeth walked to the family room, seemingly unphased by the comment the boy at her school had made to her. A part of Polly and her family felt proud, while the other felt somewhat shocked.

It was like the little girl was unbreakable, shrugging off the bullying as every day occurrences; like if an earthquake just happened every hour or so while she just sat in her chair and continued going along with her life as if the earth wasn’t shaking.

Blinking their surprise away, the group followed Elizabeth where they sat down on sofas and chairs, some even on the floor, around her. She pulled out a book and laid it on her lap, beginning the page with excitement in her voice.

Their expressions were no different; the room practically full of grown men and a little girl, all of the adults watching and/or listening with awe and intrigue, as if she were the adult and they the children.

Y/n walked into her family’s home, looking around with unease in the unusual silence. She heard her daughter’s voice and began walking to it, only to be stopped by her aunt. Y/n opened her mouth, preparing to ask what had been going on while she was out, but Polly clasped a hand over her mouth and held a finger up to her own.

Pol led Y/n to the room, showing her the chair occupied by her daughter, as well as the men around it, all either drifting off or already passed out. Despite their states, Elizabeth continued to read until she got to the last page, closing the heavy book when she had finished.

She hopped out of the chair and set the book where she had been sitting. Walking to Johnny Dogs, she pressed a kiss to his forehead and told him goodnight before hopping over the men who’d already fallen asleep on the floor.

Approaching the door, a smile relit her face. “Mommy!” She hugged her mother tightly, nuzzling her face into her, then pulling away. “I’m not ready for bed yet. I know it’s late, but I was reading uncle Tommy’s friends a bedtime story. I’m sorry for staying up, it won’t happen again!” Without giving her mother time to respond, she darted past her and up the stairs to get ready for bed.

“She’s too innocent to be a Shelby.”

“That’s true for now, aunt Pol.” Y/n shook her head as a lopsided grin graced her face. “But, to be honest, she’s one of the best things to have happened to this family. To have happened to me.”

Polly chuckled, “You can say that again.”