#it’s all a game and we’re this close to flipping the board

[daylighteclipsed]

anyone else feel like the whole world is this 👌 close to completely snapping

[foxesscramble]

in honor of the holidays here's some foxes and co going home for the holidays (set sometime in the future)

Somewhere in Wisconsin:

Matt Boyd just won his last game before their winter break officially started.

Dan and Matt make their rounds to say goodbye to everyone as the team dispersed to various cities.

They head out and grab a taxi, making a quick stop by their house to grab their luggage.

They’re headed home for the holidays.

Back to where their family was gathering.

Back to South Carolina.

They were unbelievably excited to see everyone.

They had a secret that they were finally telling the foxes when they got them all together.

Dan cradled her growing belly

Somewhere in Colorado:

Renee compiled a list of care advice for her neighbor who is petsitting for her while she’s in South Carolina.

It’s a hefty list and Renee is once again grateful for her kind, elderly neighbor who had volunteered herself immediately after hearing Renee was going to be traveling.

She made her rounds saying goodbye to all her pets before grabbing her suitcase and keys and heading to the door.

She sent a text to Allison to let her know she was about to hit the road.

Text sent she said one last goodbye at the door before locking up behind her.

South Carolina, here we come.

Somewhere in New York:

Allison carefully packed her clothes into her bag.

Had she possibly packed too much for her two-week trip? Probably, but she hasn’t seen anyone in a while, and she likes to look good.

Allison checked her phone for the time before grabbing her suitcases and putting them by the door.

She did one last walk-through to make sure she didn’t forget anything before turning all her lights off and grabbing her luggage.

She closed the door and locked it before making her way out of her apartment. 

She sent a text to Renee to let her know she was leaving and got in her car.

Somewhere in Germany:

“Nicky, Liebling, if you don’t get your ass down here we’re going to miss our flight!” 

Nicky swears as he collects his bags in a hurry, his feet pounding down the stairs of his and Erik’s apartment.

Germany had done Nicky a lot of good but he was undeniably excited to head back to the States.

Back to his family.

“I’m ready! I swear!” 

Erik laughed and herded him out the door.

They made it through the security check with 15 minutes to get to their boarding area.

They laughed as they ran through the airport, their luggage flipping and bumping into the back of their legs.

They were the last people on the plane, but they made it.

Nicky was going home.

Somewhere in California:

Kevin lugs both suitcases into the trunk of his car before he helps Amalia into the back seat and gets her buckled into her car seat.

They were driving all the way to South Carolina because Amalia had recently become deathly afraid of planes.

Settling in for the two-day drive, they'd barely made it 30 minutes into the trip before Amalia determined it had been a long time and it was time for snacks.

With a deep breath and a silent prayer to all things holy, Kevin pulled into a gas station to get snacks and have a bathroom break.

He knew the drive would be rough but 'Grandpa Coach' and 'Gran Abby', as Amalia had taken to calling her grandparents (maybe Kevin should have stopped calling them by name), would be more than willing to take Amalia when they got home.

Amalia spent the rest of the 36 hour drive rotating between excitably talking about seeing her aunts and uncles, singing the entire Frozen soundtrack at the top of her little 4 year old lungs, and sleeping.

Somewhere between Kansas and South Carolina:

"If you touch the stereo one more time, Josten, you're losing your hand."

Hands held over the console.

Hand kisses.

Smoke breaks.

Lots of snack breaks.

Neil gets fruit cups and Andrew gets candy.

Their cats joined them for the trip.

Sir sits in Neil's lap the entire ride but King gets the zoomies every 30 miles.

Andrew has to repeatedly remove him from his feet so he stops getting close to the pedals.

They call Bee halfway through the drive to make sure she’ll be there when they get there. She and Andrew chat while Neil takes a bathroom break.

When Neil comes back Andrew’s frame has relaxed a bit further. 

They were both excited to see everyone but that didn’t take away the anxiety of having that big of a group together again.

But the foxes were family and they couldn’t wait to see their family.

Somewhere in North Carolina:

"Okay, and you packed the girls' blankets?"

Katelyn and Aaron may resemble headless chickens trying to get their 13 month old twins together and ready.

Katelyn has been tasked with the girls' things and Aaron has been tasked with actually getting the girls in the car.

One of the twins is passed out in their car seat and the other is sobbing and throwing a fit.

Aaron is trying to calm her down and Katelyn is driving.

It took about an hour to get her to stop crying and when she did Aaron took a deep breath and fell back in his seat.

He rested his head back and closed his eyes, letting the quiet sounds of the road soothe him.

That calmness lasts for a good minute before Katelyn lets out a loud, FUCK!

"I forgot our suitcase!"

Somewhere in South Carolina:

Abby fluffs the decorative pillow for the hundredth time in the past ten minutes. 

She’s already vacuumed and swept every room in their house. She’s gotten all the spare bedrooms ready and taken out all of the blowup mattresses. Most of the kids were staying with them with the exception of those that had kids.

They hadn’t all been together in so long and it felt imperative that the house looked good for everyone.

Wymack came up behind her and gently took the pillow from her hands before setting it back on the couch.

“The place looks amazing, Abby.” 

Abby turned around and shot him a doubtful look.

Wymack laughed roughly and leaned forward to place a careful kiss to her forehead. 

“They’re just going to be happy to be here. I don’t think they’d care if it looked like a pigsty in here. Everything is okay, and you know why?” 

Abby leaned her weight against Wymack’s chest. “Why?”

Wymack pulled back slightly so he could send her a fond smile.

“Our kids are coming home."

[dixons-sunshine]

Plus Four | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

The air was tense. It was thick. One could cut through the air with one of Daryl’s hunting knives. Death glares were being passed around like popsicles on a hot day. You were well aware of the fact that your next actions would make or break the strong familial bonds you’ve made with the people sitting around the table in the prison you all shared.

Daryl sent you a threatening look, although you could see that there was no real anger behind it. He was more pleading than anything else. “Don’ even dare.”

You sent him an apologetic look. “I’m so sorry. I have to.” You placed the small card down on the pile in front of you, an extremely prominent ‘plus four’ in the corner. “Uno.”

Daryl threw his cards down in frustration. “C’mon! I can’t deal with this shit no more. Y’all teamin’ up on me or somethin’?”

From the other side of the table, Carol, Michonne and Rick laughed at Daryl’s dramatics—although Rick definitely hadn’t been laughing a few minutes prior when he had gotten hit by a chain of ‘plus two’s’. In fact, he had reacted the exact same way Daryl was reacting.

“Lighten up, Daryl.” Rick adjusted his cards in his hands. “I’m sure you’ll win the next round.”

“Fuck off, Rick,” Daryl grumbled under his breath, reluctantly picking up his cards again, and adding four cards to his already humongous pile. “We’re gon’ need marriage counselin’ after this. Ain’t too sure we can recover from this without professional help.”

You laughed and placed a hand on your partner’s shoulder, gently rubbing it in the hopes to bring him some comfort. “I’m sorry, Dar. I really am.”

Daryl scoffed and shook his head. “Yeah, so ya keep tellin’ me. S’the third ‘plus four’ ya’ve given me this whole game. S’fuckin’ ridiculous.”

Michonne laughed and leaned back in her chair. She was the first person to finish the game, and was closely followed by Carol. The two women found the whole situation immensely amusing. “Come on, guys,” Michonne mused out loud. “We’re getting bored over here. We wanna move over to monopoly.”

“Good lord, then we’re all gonna need counseling,” you laughed and shook your head. “You’re gonna need to strap me down if I end up in jail or else I’m gonna flip the table.”

“M’close to flippin’ the table over this stupid ass game. Ain’t too sure how m’gonna react once we move over to monopoly.” Daryl sighed and dropped his head to the table. “I have a feelin’ this game s’gon’ go on for a whole year. I might jus’ fold and go to bed.”

“You can’t do that, Babe,” you told him playfully, before moving forward to whisper in his ear. “Finish this and play a round of monopoly with us, and I promise we’ll do something more fun than board games. How does that sound?”

Daryl lifted his head from the table and straightened his back at your promise. He cleared his throat and stared at Rick expectantly. “I believe s’yer turn, no?”

Rick nodded and continued with the game. Michonne leaned over to you and whispered to you questioningly. “Well, that was a quick switch up. What did you tell him?”

You smirked and shrugged. “Oh, nothing. I just wouldn’t come into our room without knocking first tonight.”

Michonne’s eyes widened, before she shook her head and chuckled. “Well, that’s certainly one way to motivate him.”

“Oh, you don’t know the half of it.”

[linosaurus-ikuklk]

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ Bang Chan - I'm Yours, Always.

Summary: After a tiring season of continuous work loads, your best friend Changbin invites you to a 3-days vacation at a beachside villa. But dread follows you until then when you found out that your ex-situationship was coming too.

Genre: Romance

Trope: Ex-situationships (cuz what else would it be?), Second Chance, Fluff, Angst (if your mind wanders on its own about their backstory)

Word Count: 3.2k

Notes: This one is a oneshot because this came up in my head while listening to---obviously, "I'm Yours" by Jason Mraz while I was in the middle of preparing myself for second semester. I had the song on repeat for about a week now and I'm not stopping any sooner. This is not 100% proofread too so... heh. This may not be a lot but I hope you like it~!

A week ago, you’ve been praying—begging even—to God to let you have a break from your exhausting, tedious job as an office worker. The job could get very demanding, especially with the loads and loads of paperwork you had to proofread and edit. If you could only crash out, like you would during elementary if you didn’t like the subject, you would’ve done it already. But without a doubt, that would cost you your only job and only source of income.

God is good and your prayers have been answered through the way of your tooth-rottingly sweet best friend, Seo Changbin. He didn’t have to aegyo his way in to convince you, one paragraph message was enough to get you to come with him and your other friends to a retreat at a beachside villa. 

“Tell me you’re already done preparing.”

You saw the notification that popped up on your screen, the nickname “Dwaekki” disappearing after a few seconds. You checked and read it with a scoff puffing out of you. 

“I think I’m the most excited about this. I’ve already packed two days ago.”

Glancing at your suitcase sized backpack, you smirked, knowing it’s not you who’s going to be carrying that. It was very intentional since all of those boys were getting their muscles ripped, why not give it something to do other than impressing the ladies?

What were you even carrying in that bag? A bunch of clothes? Dang, you have 5 dresses and 3 pairs of bikinis. Not only that, you have a lot of things to enjoy while you’re there. Food, board games, and a thick book you’ve been trying to read for the past year. 

“You should see Chan, he’s already in the villa.”

You frowned, immediately typing in a message. Your heart thumping a little harder. 

“I thought he’s not coming?”

To say things had been weird between you and Chan lately was an understatement. You’d been close once—the kind of close where he’d text you after a long day just to check in, where he’d look for you in the crowd during a performance and shoot you a small, private smile. But then life got busy. For him, at least. And for you? Well, you’d gotten used to not hearing from him anymore. Mostly.

“Idk what changed his mind.” “We’re outside, you need help with your bag?”

The ride to the villa wasn’t so bad. Aside from your legs being cramped up from all the other baggage the guys decided to bring, you enjoyed singing and playing games with the guys.

But your mind wandered to Chan every now and then. You wanted to be comfortable as much as you can in this vacation and you’re beginning to doubt it when you found out that he’s in too. Are you even going to be able to sit in the same room without hating yourself for staring at him even if you didn’t intend to? How are you even going to react when he’s sitting beside you? Are you going to scurry away and cringe or just sit there like you’re not affected by his mere presence, whatsoever?

Still, when you arrived at the villa and saw him standing by the front door, his hair tousled by the salty breeze, you couldn’t stop the way your stomach flipped. He spotted you instantly, his eyes lighting up with that familiar warmth.

“You came,” he said, stepping forward to grab one of your bags before you could protest. His dimpled smile was every bit as devastating as you remembered. You forced a small smile, your gaze fixed on the ground, only glancing up at him for a mere millisecond, showing him a slight—and unbearably awkward smile of gratitude before following Changbin and Minho inside. 

The night came in a few hours and when you finally came out of your room—after giving yourself enough time to focus on just enjoying your vacation—you saw that the boys had already set a campfire in the sand. You joined them by helping Minho and Yongbok with grilling the lamb chops. Seungmin sang in the background as Jisung played his guitar while the others did the finishing touches to the tents they were setting up.

Minho goes inside to get the other foods and Felix goes to get the utensils, leaving you with the responsibility of trying not to burn the precious meat. You were pretty focused, counting down the remaining minute it should stay on that side to cook when suddenly, someone takes the tongs from you. Looking up, you almost kicked the grill down when you saw Chan but seeing that it’s not rational, you only frowned at him before fixing your gaze back down to the lamb chops as he moved them around.

“What are you doing? Minho said that it should stay like that for one more minute,” you said but he only chuckles lightly at you, so light that it plays with the strings of your heart which makes you want to jump at him and straight up beat him for still doing this to you. For fluttering you with the barest minimum.

“It’s been more than a minute,” he turns the lamb chops to their other side to cook, glancing at you with a teasing smile tugging at the corner of his lips. You didn’t do anything to argue and let him do the job, he’s an expert anyway. You wiped your dirty hands on the back of your pants as you backed away quietly. “You cooked these well,” he comments, making you stop from escaping his excruciating presence. 

“No, Minho and Felix did most of the job…” you trailed off, glancing inside the house to see if any of the two were coming back. “I just helped with the seasoning.”

Your voice was quiet and had an obvious hint of unease in it, making Chan grit his jaw and just nod without looking. He lets you slip away and make your way to Hyunjin who was decorating the place with fairy lights. But even with the task at hand, his gaze was on you. 

Why did he let this happen? After all the things that happened between the both of you—if anything really did happen—why did he let it wear away with time?

Once everything was settled, all of you sat in a circle to eat. It was peaceful at first, just casually praising the chef—Minho and Chan—and remembering the time when Jisung and Yongbok had to cook for them. That was until Changbin brought up the ultimate debate: which is better, the pool or the ocean?

It was a one-on-eight argument, with Minho being the only one to side on the pool while he argued mostly with Hyunjin. “Why would I willingly swim somewhere I can’t see what’s underneath me? Something could just crawl up and—” He shuddered dramatically, cutting himself off.

“So dramatic,” Hyunjin snorted, letting the irony slide past himself, throwing a marshmallow at him. “The ocean is better. You can float and feel at one with nature.”

Minho caught the marshmallow mid-air. “Yeah, until a jellyfish shows up and ‘one with nature’ turns into ‘one with the ER.’” He shoves the treat in his mouth.

The conversation spiraled until Seungmin, who had been quietly observing the chaos, decided to end it. He leaned forward, his face neutral, and delivered his final verdict: “Doesn’t matter. Either way, there’s still a chance you’ll drown and die.”

The silence lasted two full beats before everyone burst out laughing. Even Minho couldn’t keep a straight face, muttering under his breath, “I hate how he’s not wrong.” 

And as the laughter kept on erupting while the others added more things to laugh at, your eyes caught Chan’s as they looked at you with the same softness he used to before he became distant and a smile that could bring vibrant colors to your eyes. It made you shudder, your smile faltering as you looked away.

What is he trying to do now? Dimple his way back to you like he did before? He left you hanging on something you thought that was there and it sure did take a lot from you to let go of it. Are you going to fall for the same thing that made you doubt yourself and even others in the end?

That night, while you were trying to sleep inside your tent, it occurred to you that maybe he was just trying to be civil. Maybe you were the one who gave all the wrong meanings to those things before. Maybe you’re just being too rough on him right now. So you decided to treat him with respect, without recoiling from his presence.

The next morning, you woke up before everyone else. You hadn’t planned to—but between the excitement of being here and the not-so-quiet snores coming from Jeongin’s tent, sleep had decided it wasn’t your friend. So, you grabbed a hoodie and wandered outside, where the early sun painted the sky in soft hues of pink and orange.

You made your way outside, the sand tickling the sole of your feet. You weren’t expecting to see anyone else. Which is why your heart nearly leapt out of your chest when you heard the gentle strum of a guitar. And there he was: Bang Chan, sitting cross-legged on the sand, barefoot and completely lost in his own world.

“You’re up early,” he said when he noticed you, his voice carrying that low, soothing tone you’d missed way too much. The slight adrenaline that was rushing through your body finally soothed when you saw how natural he looked. How his face is still slightly puffy from sleep and his hair tousled by the wind.

You let your walls come down just for a bit and let yourself be vulnerable around him in a way that was too subtle for him to feel. “I couldn’t miss this view,” you replied, gesturing vaguely at the ocean. You let your eyes be blessed with his beauty, the pinkish tips of his fingers gently strumming the chords as he looked back at you. You notice he was staring because you’re too busy admiring him, but he was looking at you with the same endearing, sparkling eyes. 

How you looked so beautiful with the sun kissing your skin. Your hair was being blown by the wind in directions that make you look like an angel, a blessing sent from heaven. And your eyes, how they stared down at him like they could make him do the most desperate things in the world—only to have them stay like that when you would meet his gaze.

Questions popped in his mind, those that he wondered for the past days. Questions he missed to ask you on a regular basis. How have you been? Are you resting well? Why are you letting yourself drown in too much work?

He grinned, tilting his head. “You mean the sunrise, or…?” You rolled your eyes, but your face heated up anyway. Typical Chan.

He started playing a soft, familiar melody—I’m Yours. And before you knew it, you were humming along, your voice blending with his as you sat a foot away from him. It was effortless, like no time had passed. Like you’d always been meant to find your way back to this moment. Find your way back to him.

And before either of you even knew it, the tangled strings were beginning to unravel. With every stolen glance, the tension melted through the sands and got carried away to the ocean, with each melody you sang, the uneasiness was carried by the wind. You knew you were going to give in and yet the walls still stood at the height of your chest.

Game night was chaos. Of course it was. You should’ve known better when Jeongin grabbed the charades cards with a gleeful smirk, practically vibrating with excitement as he announced the teams. “And for the ultimate duo…” He paused for dramatic effect, his eyes landing squarely on you and Chan. “You two. Obviously.”

Your protests fell on deaf ears. Before you could argue, Hyunjin swooped in, all flair and drama. He clutched his chest like he was auditioning for a period drama, his voice rising in exaggerated passion. “This is fate! Look at their chemistry! The sparks! The magic!”

“Hyunjin, sit down,” you muttered, trying to suppress your growing embarrassment as the rest of the boys howled with laughter.

Chan, standing beside you, chuckled softly, his voice low enough that only you could hear. “Ignore him. He’s just jealous.” The casual warmth in his tone sent a ripple of warmth through your chest, and despite your best efforts, your lips twitched into a reluctant smile, forgetting whatever reason you were uneasy around him before.

The game started, and the chaos only escalated. Chan leaned in close as the two of you deciphered the clues, his shoulder brushing yours in a way that felt natural but electric all the same. You tried to focus, but his laughter was like a song you couldn’t ignore, each note low and warm, wrapping around you like a blanket.

Later that night, the bonfire lit up the shoreline, casting flickering shadows over the sand. The guys’ laughter and chatter filled the air, but your attention kept drifting to Chan, who seemed distracted—his gaze flickering to you every so often, like he was working up the courage to say something.

Eventually, he stood and gestured for you to follow. “Walk with me?”

You nodded, your heart thudding as you left the group behind. The waves lapped gently at your feet as you strolled along the water’s edge, the sound soothing and steady. But Chan’s presence next to you? It makes your heartbeat go crazy and you don’t even know if it’s from nervousness or something in the range of anger. It makes your hands and feet go cold without any particular reason. It was anything but calm. 

“I’ve been meaning to talk to you,” he said finally, his voice quieter now. “I just… didn’t know how.”

You stopped, turning to face him. “What is it?”

He ran a hand through his curls, looking down at his feet before meeting your eyes. “I know I’ve been distant. I’ve been trying to balance everything—the group, the music… everything. But in doing that, I’ve been ignoring the one thing that matters most to me.”

Your breath caught. Was he…?

“I’ve always known where my heart belongs,” he continued, his voice trembling just slightly. “It’s with you. And I just didn’t know how to say it without scaring you away. But I can’t… I can’t keep it to myself anymore. I’m yours, if you’ll have me.”

For a moment, all you could do was stare at him, his words sinking in like waves crashing against the shore. His gaze at you as soft as the clouds in the skies, like it could sweep you off of your feet. Then, finally, you found your voice.

“You’re an idiot,” you said, your throat tightening with unshed tears.

It wasn’t an illusion, it’s not you assuming things that weren’t actually there. It wasn’t him randomly being fixated on you or anything negative of the sorts.

His eyes widened, panic flashing across his face. “What?”

You stepped closer, close enough to see the vulnerability in his expression. The proximity of it almost kills you from how much you longed for it. How you just wanted to jump into his arms and let him pull you in like you needed to be combined as one. “You’re an idiot for thinking I wouldn’t wait for you. I’ve been yours all along, Chan. And I always will be.”

Relief flooded Chan’s features, followed by a smile so radiant it could’ve outshone the stars. He pulled you into his arms, holding you like you were something precious, something he’d never let go of again. His hand on the back of your neck, keeping your cheek flush against his shoulder, his other hand on your waist that keeps you steady as you stand on your toes. 

It doesn’t matter how long you have been distant. It just shows how love can be so strong and get even stronger when two people are far from each other. And the fact that you came back in each other’s embrace proves that your love for each other was as true as you thought it was. Yours and his faith didn’t fail, but you did let fear hold you back.  

The next day, the two of you strolled along the beach hand in hand, the world slowly waking around you. Chan’s phone played I’m Yours softly, and before you could protest, he spun you around, pulling you into a slow, lazy dance.

“Chan,” you laughed, glancing around nervously, your hands secured your own balance as you held on to his biceps. “What if the others see?”

“Let them,” he said simply, his eyes sparkling with mischief and something deeper. His strong arms wrapped around your waist as he nestled his nose on the crown of your head, his eyes closing for a brief moment to let the scent of your shampoo to be burned on his mind. “I’m not hiding this anymore. Not hiding us.”

As he pulled you closer—chest to chest, your heart swelled, the tip of your noses brushing against each other. But then a distant voice shouted, “Ayo, Chan, save some of that sweetness for later!” followed by a chorus of howling and teasing laughs.

“Get a room, you two!” Felix shouted from a few yards away, his eyes squinting from the glaring sun and was followed by Hyunjin's dramatic, "Oh, the pain of witnessing such public displays of affection."

You looked over, your face turning a shade of red that could rival the sunset, and saw the other members standing in a small group, all grinning like idiots, giving you both thumbs-up. Changbin was hitting Seungmin as he squealed, Jisung shook Jeongin by his shoulder, and Minho squatted on the ground with the most endearing smile.

"Don’t mind them," Chan whispered with a playful smirk, noticing your embarrassment and making you turn your gaze to him again. "Just look at me." His voice was commanding but in a very gentle way that it would make you obey right away.

Jisung yelled from behind, “I’m not sure if I’m more jealous or grossed out!” He rested his hands on Minho’s shoulder and almost fell over when the older guy stumbled forward.

“See?” Chan said with a grin, “They’re jealous.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, your face still flushed. “Maybe, but they’re definitely loud.”

“I’m sure they’ll get over it,” Chan teased, his arms tightening around you, pulling you impossibly closer.

You laughed, feeling a lightness spread through you. Chan spun you again, and for a moment, it was just the two of you, surrounded by the music and the sound of the waves.

And then, with that familiar spark in his eyes, he leaned in, pressing a kiss to your forehead. The teasing from the others faded into the background, but the warmth from their playful energy lingered.

"This is our fate," he whispered. “I’m yours… as you are mine.”

And as his lips found yours, the rest of the world faded away. It was just you, him, and the unshakable certainty that you were exactly where you were meant to be.

~~

"For God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power and of love and of a sound mind."

2 Timothy 1:7

Don't be shy to give me suggestions guysss~ I hope you enjoyed "I'm Yours, Always."! God bless you all!!

[aldisobey]

Rook Questionnaire

@emmg yo thanks for the tag! I’m always happy to write too much about Worne. You asked for this k I can’t help but put down the full answer when I have it. I need this raccoon man to find your sewer rat because Nevarra is not good for them. Return him to the streets, get her to the beach, those tombs are freakin me out.

Anyways this is Rook ‘Worne’ Thorne. At this point he’s just Worne lol, I’m going to end up using it in the fic because it’s out of my hands it’s just who he is. Look I don’t plan on writing this info longform so I indulged here since I’m working on lichy epilogue stuff. This is the lovely foundational start I needed today. Enjoy if ya like it’s useful ref for me.

Where in Thedas is your Rook from?

Kirkwall. Specifically Darktown. It was horrible. He misses it dearly.

What is your character’s alignment?

Chaotic Good. He does crimes. They’re good. I’m a sanctioned DM okay I’ll argue this one lol

Race and subclass?

Human Rogue

If your Rook was a companion, where would they be found?

The Weisshaupt mission would go through the prisons for a section and he’s in there. Got a stash of books and literally didn’t know what was happening they forgot him in the drunk tank for fucking with the First Warden. One of the cells is considered his, he likes it fine down there. But hell yeah he’s ready to help out the Veilguard and get the fuck out of the Wardens completely. If he didn’t end up there he’s off duty at a bar in Docktown. Or in the thick of it running dangerous missions for Antoine and Evka in Lavendell.

What emotion did they usually pick?

Laughter. Joy. Where he is in life has never been in his control. Mood is his mastery. He’s choosing to chill and smile whenever he can. Life’s tough enough. Leads to a lack of decorum but he’s a very sincere person. Fuck being polite. If we’re talking what I picked in game options it was a mix. He is very kind and incredibly confrontational when needed arises. But he defaults to sincere joy if he can.

What companion are they platonically close with?

Davrin is his brother. They’re constantly picking at each other and ‘fighting’, messing with Lucanis, they have a running game for who can get the most mierdas in a day, and just being a menace to everyone at the Lighthouse when they get going. Rook looks up to Davrin in a way. Mostly because Davrin really is the expert on monster fighting. That’s sick. He also doesn’t hide his jealousy over not being chosen as a griffon ‘bodyguard’, he ‘steals’ Assan for himself plenty and they usually end up breaking something. But he’s pumped for Davrin’s book and steals figurines for a board game he’s designing. Davrin carves more of the same figurines once he notices and he’ll give him guff about it but he’lll still carve more.

They hold regular workouts with Taash and Worne is regularly handed his ass in any kind of martial training. Like Davrin, Taash, Lucanis, Harding…look, Worne’s excuse is his fighting style is brutal and not made for sparring. Like he’s not going to take out your eye here okay? He swears if this was real he’s winning. It’s doubtful. Davrin is his other platonic half but deep bonds are all around the Veilguard pretty quick, they’re family.

Neve is his beloved queen of an older sister, Lucanis is that quietly hilarious guy you’re actually scared of because he could kill you but he’s hopelessly in love with your sister who is too good for him but they make each other better and he better not fuck it up or you’re egging his ridiculous ass mansion daily. Spite is his bff. Assan is his twin. Bellara is his kid sister and he’s ready to shill her book. Emmrich has banned Bellara and Worne from unsupervised projects together because something always explodes and someone is going to lose an eye.

Taash is a rival that he always loses to, they’re the Goku to his Vegeta, he’s always a level behind and ‘furious’ about it. They’re always good naturedly flipping each other off. Harding is an equal sibling, she knew Varric, she holds a special place almost as close as Davrin, but it’s softer and they spend a lot of time talking and tending the garden together. Emmrich joins them sometimes. I can’t talk Manfred. It hurts.

Romantically close with?

Emmrich. Listen, it was a while on the road with just Varric and Harding, he was touch starved by the time they found the necromancer. This is not his first dalliance with a lover older than himself, that was never a concern. Had that mage clocked for a fun time minutes into meeting. He was not expecting romance. Thought they would have some fun, kill some gods, go on their way. But it very quickly morphed into something way way deeper. Like within weeks they’re living like an old married couple. That companionable ‘alone together’ all the time. They share a deep kindness, curiosity, and love of life. The fact that those core qualities come out in differing hobbies, likes, and manners is a delight to them both.

Of course they do share a near equal amount in common, it’s a nice balance at the end of the day when they want to be tangled up reading on the couch together. Little acts of service were almost immediate between them, just came naturally. Like here, made your cup of tea I was in the kitchen, oh I was in town got your favorite croissant and wouldn’t you know they were selling flowers, did you want to read this paper I finished? Oh is that a stray hair on your jacket, and have you hydrated you’re getting cranky. It’s just very obvious that they’re incredibly mindful of each other. Like second night at gathered dinner Worne knows what to pass Emmrich’s way and vice versa without asking, they’re just doing stuff for each other all the time as if it’s always been that way. They didn’t realize they were doing it, they’re just that way as people and literally couldn’t stop thinking about each other. The rest of the group could see how quick it was before they did. Easier to see the water when you’re not in it, the rest of the Veilguard could see them swimming together from the start.

Worne does see Emmrich as sheltered and naive and needing extra eyes on him outside of Nevarra. Like he’s the oldest of the group but also the most likely to get scammed or stabbed and Worne is ready to kill the person that thinks to try. Emmrich sees Worne as the indomitable chaotic force that he is, and does what he can to pump those breaks lest the Warden burn out. They both deeply care and are trying to keep the other safe in the ways they know how.

They both love how much they have to learn from the other and will yap about their very opposing life experiences and what they’ve gathered from it. At core Worne is dragging Emmrich out of those crypts to come live that ‘adventure’ with him. And Emmrich is trying to make sure Worne stays alive at this point so they can have their quiet (and not) evenings together when the days adventuring is through. Like please do not eat that thing you found on the ground it might carry the disease that does you in.

And they’re both degenerates and loving that. The Veilguard is aware and wish they weren’t so but Worne and Emmrich can’t help it okay they’re fools in love.

(The dynamic is very we can afford a plumber why are you reading a DIY to install the new sink, please I’m taking the car to the mechanic tomorrow how and why did you get the engine out? But oh that does look interesting. Did you have a good time at Paths of Glory night with Johanna? Yes book club was lovely as always. And they do not play board games or any type of games together anymore. It’s not good for their relationship and they know it and respect it. Worne does not like book club because he would rather just be reading.)

Who are they suspicious of?

The Viper. What secrets are under that mask. Those eyes. That voice. Also anyone named Eric. Nobles. Every noble is a suspect. Rich folk as well. Worne is suspicious of anyone with too much wealth, somehow his brain overlooks how rich Emmrich is. He can’t let it register because it would be such a ‘flaw’, like maybe we’re stealing all these things? If he knew the amounts Emmrich had paid on things for him he would lose his goddamn mind. Like go run in Arlathan for a week straight to atone, what has he become. He’s suspicious of wealth, doesn’t care for it, doesn’t value it beyond the security it gives and the power it might have for others safety.

Worne is suspicious of Vorgoth but more in the art scene criminality way than wondering what they might be. They’re a bastard is what they are. They’re a bastard for having a collection that good in private. Myrna isn’t suspicious she is business and he keeps a healthy respectful distance away from that kind of power. For now. He’s starting to figure out how this Necropolis works. He’s suspicious of necromancy as an instinct, and is throwing a hard look at Nevarra because it’s not ‘Emmrich’, it’s something else, he loves Emmrich, he thought Nevarra would be that. It’s not, and he's not sure he likes what he’s seeing. Pretty sure he hates it.

Does your Rook get along with their chosen faction?

Nope. Well, he loves the people. The Wardens are his kin. But he loathes the institution and the managing of it. Despises anything to do with the Joining, blight, darkspawn, and there is a piece deep down that is bitter that he never had a real choice when it came to where his life led. Like this type of thing, the thing he is a part of is wrong, or at least the way it operates and gains new Wardens is. The leadership loathes him, and uses him, but the people within would put their lives on the line for him. He’d hate that. Like he’ll always be a Warden to other Wardens, they’re family forever, but he’s done with the organization by the time he’s with Varric. He never planned on going back. He doesn’t want to fight stuff that makes his blood crawl. Doesn’t want to be anywhere near it. He’d die for the Wardens, but he’d never die for The Grey Wardens if that makes sense.

Are they proficient in playing any instruments?

Nope. But he is quite accomplished at whistling, but that’s a private affair.

Weapon of choice?

Daggers, knives, fists, literally anything in the near vicinity that might help. It’s very chaotic and brutal, there is no rhythm to it. Almost purposefully so, and he seems to risk or take hits to get in close for a lethal bleeding strike.

What is their orientation?

Slut. But a discerning slut. He’s too old to be wasting time with selfish lovers at this point. But if someone is up for learning him he’s game for studying them in a heartbeat.

What are their thoughts on killing? Is it a necessary evil or do they enjoy it?

Necessary. He’s not a pacifist. This is survival here and people are going to do what they can to live. He doesn’t enjoy it. Never has. He’d rather the need for it completely disappear, but he’s not one to hesitate. If it’s us or them he’s making damn certain it’s them. He killed that mayor. Money is never above people and he does not believe in the ‘death or Joining’ choice. He’s not sending anyone to a Joining. Just kill ‘em. He doesn’t care if it makes him a hypocrite.

What hobbies does your Rook have?

He loves reading, he had a hard time hiding his excitement when he realized just how many books Emmrich was moving in with. And that was only part of the collection from home?! That was his main excuse for constantly being in Emmrich’s study, and obviously he’d be quiet and out of the way and he couldn’t take the books out with him they’d get dirty or lost. He was in there as much as possible from day one.

Also loves any type of game and is notorious for never losing and always cheating. Says cheating without getting caught is part of every game, it’s an important lesson to learn. Johanna plays with him. Aware of the ruleset that all cheating goes. You only lose for cheating if you get caught, that’s their only stipulation. Their games are overly long or surprisingly short, and either deadly silent or violently loud, but it’s obvious to everyone they’re having the time of their lives. Their record against each other is neck and neck and no one can stand to play with them.

Emmrich originally tried to stay for a game or stick around for the companionship but he can’t be in the same room. It’s just…no he doesn’t know the rule from appendix F, please stop yelling about weighted dice rolls, for spirits sake would they stop fighting and he can’t think he’s leaving. And that’s when they gossip. Look, they both love Emmrich, they wish he could join in the gossip. But the man can’t lie to save his life, he’s horrible at keeping secrets. They can’t trust him with the best bits for his own safety. They’ll keep yelling about the game in between discussing the latest juiciest gossip Thedas has to offer.

Worne is always down to celebrate, party, bar hop, what have you. Being the party is a hobby alright and he’s practiced. Like he can’t plan well but he’s good at conjuring one if there are enough people and drinks and food. Usually starts with plenty of drinking games and assorted challenges and hijinks and ends with telling or sharing stories. He can’t write, never learned or practiced, but loves to tell a story, he’s proud to say they’re never told the same way twice. Emmrich made him some pens that can write what he dictates and Worne loves them dearly, uses them for bare fact journaling, but it’s just not the same as speaking. He tells stories he doesn’t write books. And he does it in bars. Or at parties. Or really for anyone that might want or needs one. He wants his stories alive in a way, putting them to paper makes them one thing and he doesn’t want that.

He loves being a part of griffon training but is no help. More hindrance than anything but he is fascinated. He’s also an avid runner when it comes to fitness. Running is survival he says and would be the ultra marathon type. When all else has failed running has saved him more often than not. None of the Veilguard can go on runs with him, they’ve tried. Taash is faster, but they can’t run so fast for nearly as long. He’ll just take off and be gone all day to Arlathan sometimes. Loves to see the sights at his own speed. They’re pretty sure that’s when the whistling is practiced at some point, but that’s Worne time you don’t interrupt.

Oh! And very recently he’s taken up gardening and he loves it, just absolutely delights. It started when he went to talk with Harding plenty and he started helping with her collection. Turns out Worne is a natural with plants. He’s better with them than Harding or Emmrich. Plants love Worne like spirits love Emmrich.

What NPCs do they like? Which ones do they dislike?

Okay so he was smitten by Dorian. That take down of the First Warden? The blatant fucking lying to his face? He was done in then. Instant comrades. Take me now thoughts. And listen. I feel like Dorian wouldn’t be able to crack Worne unless he targeted his very blatant weak spot for Emmrich. Like being snarky to Worne will just delight him. A good joke at his expense is an excellent joke. He’ll up the ante on himself. He would be pretty damn defensive of Emmrich if something felt off there, but Worne is one to see charming bluster and respond with delightful sincerity. So he likes going to the Shadow Dragons, he’s desperately trying to get a read on the relationship between Emmrich and Dorian, like what in the world are they now. He’s asking Johanna what that teaching Dorian period looked like for Emmrich but she can’t speak through the laughter.

Not a fan of Strife. He can feel it. The ‘what if’ and he doesn’t like taking Emmrich to Arlathan.

He smuggles illegal cheese for Myrna and has a contentious…something with Vorgoth. Vorgoth mostly ignores him but Worne is not a fan and is frustrated that Vorgoth is keeping their art collection all to themselves. Have a collection but art is for the people, he’s stealing that shit. Antoine and Evka are his parents, Mila is his niece. I have a deep feeling in my chest that Isabella loves him and he loves Isabella. Like maybe she lets him help do the announcements for fights sometimes and he likes to hang out at the pits if it isn’t a Docktown night. He makes fun of her for almost dooming Kirkwall with that theft of hers and laughs about the fixes she made to the Lords because of it. They talk Varric a lot. Worne really did love him, he shaped himself around the dwarf’s stories to survive, credits Varric for who he is. And he loves Rivain, like has a favorite tree hammock to sleep in there but cities hold his heart. Isabella feels like family, like an aunt he goes to visit and she keeps an eye on him since he lost Varric.

The Crows think he is actually insane. Cacophony of mierdas when he strolls in. What the fuck kind of rogue is that no, don’t wear the cape like that. Dear god take the cape off you will fall in the canal. Worne likes Treviso, he saved Treviso, but it’s too ‘rich’ for him. Like wearing tight tailored pants that make you walk funny. The fit is wrong. And he is just way too careless around very dangerous Crow things. Do not give him a fancy knife he will hurt himself messing with it and accidentally drink poison, why would you keep it in such a fancy glass? For some reason the most uninhibited part of his brain flicks on around the Crows and he becomes a ball of unbridled curiosity. He wants to learn about the ‘real rogue stuff’, and dives headlong in without a care for safety, just a desire to know and try and see, but it is not a fit for him. Crow style is the flame to Worne’s moth. They could never take him in as a fledgling, how would they train out those habits? They’re crows, he’s a raccoon.

Do they have a favorite creature in Thedas?

Griffons. He still can’t believe they’re real and back. He praises Assan too much. Inflates that ego to extreme proportions but he loves those weird cat birds and can’t wait until they’re big enough to take him flying in Arlathan. Emmrich is currently working with Bellara on a device that might slow one's descent when falling from great heights. The reality of it is that Worne is not great at caring for the griffons. They’re too alike. He’s too much of a kid around them. Davrin is the adult here, he’s looking after an annoying pair of younger brothers. Worne is not helping go tend to your plants.

Do they enjoy life as an adventurer?

He’s an adventurer? Worne sees himself as a guy. He’s just going from necessary task to necessary task to stay alive. Started with finding food as a kid, and wouldn't you know he has to kill god now or everyone dies, funny how it escalates like that. But yes. He loves life and living it despite everything. He’s not letting his path dictate his mood. That’s the indomitable spirit.

What would your Rook be doing if they weren’t recruited by Varric?

He’d still be out there killing darkspawn as a Warden. Possibly dead at Weisshaupt. Possibly dead in Lavendell. But hopefully hanging out with his parents Antoine and Evka.

How do you think they’ll meet their end?

Oof. He’s terrified of the Calling. And drowning. He’s hydrophobic. Thankfully no more Calling? Looking like he might be able to die old and peaceful at home, I think that’s the dream. I don’t like the alternative.

Would they side with Solas or fight him?

Oh he would tear Solas’ throat out with his teeth if that was a viable option. The only reason he’s willing to work with that traitorous piece of shit in the end is because it’s what Varric would’ve wanted. He doesn’t think about Solas or he’ll get mad. When he sees Dorian the first thing he will do is bring up how much of a shithead Solas is and how much he hates him and they’re off. If you notice Worne doesn’t hate much, he is very much a lover and liker of things. He hates Solas. Even more than he hates nobles and rich folk. He loathes a betrayer. Solas got his happy end, but that’s because Worne respected the fuck out of Lavellan. That was for her, Solas can suck an egg. And he’s going to shit talk her choice with Dorian as therapy, like love her, but fuck can you believe? He’s still mad. About Varric. About the blood magic. Like deeply justly pissed the fuck off over it. But like. Good for them. I guess.

What is your Rook’s favorite ability?

iframes. Hahaha, but no anything that stacks bleed. Cut ‘em up bleed ‘em out.

What languages is your character fluent in?

Common and conversational in dwarven. He’s not to Davrin’s level, but working as a Warden in the Deep Roads as long as he has it’s helpful to learn as much as you can.

What do they do after an absolute crisis?

Chess puzzles now that he has access to the books for it. Or any other game. Varric mentioned that it could be helpful when he was a kid. Recent trauma? Rote task moving pieces, nothing too difficult, puzzles. I like to imagine Thedas has a ‘Go’ equivalent and that’s likely his favorite for it. You could make a board for that out of dirt and stones and you bet he does. Emmrich gets him his first real set after Weisshaupt, Worne needs it. Do not mention how much Emmrich spent on it, that will upset him. Oh and he wants to fuck, go full no thoughts a bit.

Does your character believe in the afterlife?

Nope. He’s killed a lot of people and hasn’t seen any come back. Doesn’t want to. Feels wrong. He honestly doesn’t care to talk about it much to Emmrich’s dismay. It’s one subject that kind of depresses Worne, he’s lost a lot of people. No afterlife, an afterlife, either reality isn’t something he wants to dwell on.

What specialization best represents your Rook?

Duelist. But he is not a fancy fighter, no official training besides what they could give here and there at Weisshaupt, he’s got a lot of bad habits. Varric always said it was his constitution and spirit that kept him alive. Like he’s coming along to fight the gods because the worst flu and situations in Darktown couldn’t take him out and neither could the worst the Warden leadership could send him to. He got into Lucanis’ poisons and declared them ‘spicy’. He’s got Kirkwall’s own luck, but he’s also got it’s blood.

What animal best represents your Rook?

A street dog. You know the type. Can’t quite tell the breed, or the age, but they’ll lead you to the best hiking paths and follow you around town for pets and love. Separating cat fights, walking the streets, getting a snack someone left out for him. Won’t go home with you because he belongs to the world at large but you’ll enjoy all the time he spent with you that day. Ruggedly handsome fellow if not show quality. Like the entire town knows and loves this dog, that’s everyone’s dog. People will let you know that if you get lost just follow that dog and he’ll keep you safe from getting mugged or worse, bring you where you need to go. That kinda street dog. That’s Worne. The raccoon nature is just him as a man, it’s intrinsic.

What was their life like before the events of Veilguard?

Worne’s entire life has been one of survival. Just a series of escalations to this point really. He’s good at keeping the mood light and easy because he’s a frog in the boiling pot, this is just life yeah? He knows how to have joy in the midst of all that mayhem and survival. Like yeah it’s shit, I don’t have to be.

The pipeline was orphan in Darktown, street kid, thief, pickpocket. Varric named him Rook at six and got him into stories and books and would send what jobs he could. From there just kept in that ‘criminal pipeline’ until it led to gallows or Grey Wardens. Hated life as a Warden and let his disgust be known, always sent to the worst most dangerous jobs and always came crawling back with whoever they sent with him. Last job was the final straw but look, Varric needs him. Fuck was he ever excited for that.

Is your character the de facto leader of the party? Or do they consider someone else to be the leader?

Worne is very serious about being the leader, but quietly so he doesn’t talk to anyone about it. Varric called him his second and he holds that with a heavy pride and sense of responsibility. After all, a leader serves, a leader doesn’t ask a follower to do any job they wouldn’t. He’s leading from the front and would never expect anyone else to take up such a dangerous position for him. This is the best way he can keep them all safe, and hey they all have specialities and things they’re very good at that are needed to kill the gods. His job is to keep the group together and on task and alive. Like he’ll take opinions and input. But when push comes to shove on Veilguard issues he will have the last word because that’s his responsibility.

He would rather be gardening, reading, running, playing games or doing nothing in a bar. But he is good at what he does. Varric named him second because he saw that flicker for running a tight group of ‘professionals’ through the worst possible situations. His entire life has been escalating worse scenarios he’s had to survive. He’s got experience with this. He’s not made for large organizations, nah he’s your heist man. He’s going to rob that bank or that art gallery with this group of degenerates. When it’s time for the real professional crime he’s your guy. But Varric would be the only soul that really knows the depth of that. And it’s not because Worne is exceedingly good at planning, he’s exceedingly good at creating and utilizing chaos, and he’ll cheat. He can flood a river so only he can ford it. Not many can stay so calm and lucid within it all but chaos is life for Worne and he swims it natural. To the Veilguard he’s just Worne, they’ve never questioned following him, he’s always there for them and first to the most dangerous task. Like he’s everyone’s big brother and you know he’ll get you home. Once those gods are dead he’s retired though, he’s claiming his rest.

If you could choose a different faction for your Rook, which one would they have joined and why?

You know he’d have the most fun being a poor Lord of Fortune. Like he doesn’t care a wit or a wink for gold but they seem to be having fun over there and he loves Isabella. But in all actuality he knows he’d go to the Shadow Dragons. Cities are home and he wouldn’t be able to rest right knowing he could help and they would take him. The whole mess in Minrathous is eating at him and he wants to fix it. Feels he has to fix it because he chose Treviso didn’t he? He wants to see Dorian in charge of things and help Neve navigate the Threads world with his experience from Kirkwall. Maybe steer away from what messed him up and get it more union style at the docks.

What’s your favorite thing about your Rook?

Look he’s just some guy trying to eat a croissant in peace at the park with his book and he’s waiting on a good chess game. Get him a cigarette and out of Nevarra.

Bonus: some of the characters that inspired him.

Look wise he’s a lower grade Faramir with brown eyes in my head. Personality wise uuuh reading all this holy shit that’s a lot lol, umm I think I based him off that street dog. Ahahaha I’m trying to think of others and I don’t know. I’ll edit in if I think of any but he was inspired by the thought ‘who would support the lich choice when in love?’ And well a besotted Warden terrified of the blight was my answer. These two idiots fucked up. This was a lovely break from that.

[bradleysass]

Traitor - @black-brothers-microfic - Word Count: 568 - Starchaser + Wolfstar

The warm glow of the fireplace cast flickering shadows across the room, the only sound beyond the crackling flames being the sharp clatter of dice and the occasional exasperated sigh from Remus. The four young men were seated around the coffee table, surrounded by scattered Monopoly money, properties, and a tension so thick it could rival a Quidditch final.

“Your turn, Pads,” James said, a sly grin tugging at his lips. He leaned closer to Sirius, who was busy counting his remaining bills. “You know what to do,” James whispered, his tone conspiratorial.

Regulus shot his brother a glare, his sharp grey eyes narrowing. “If you two are plotting something, I will find out.”

“Relax, Reggie,” Sirius drawled, throwing the dice and moving his piece—a top hat—three spaces forward. “We’re not plotting against you. Probably.” He shot a mischievous grin at James, who smirked back.

Remus groaned, adjusting the stack of cash in front of him. “If you two are working together, I’m withdrawing my participation. This game is supposed to destroy friendships, not reinforce your ridiculous codependent dynamic.”

“Don’t be bitter just because you’re stuck with utilities, Moony,” Sirius teased. “You’re the true villain here.”

Meanwhile, Regulus surveyed the board like a general assessing a battlefield. His fingers hovered over his own properties, neatly organized into perfect rows. He was close—so close. All he needed was Boardwalk, the last piece of the dark blue monopoly. And it was James who held it.

“Potter,” Regulus began, his voice calm but edged with steel. “Let’s make a deal. You give me Boardwalk, and I’ll trade you Park Place and one of my railroads. That’s fair, isn’t it?”

James leaned back, feigning deep thought. “Hmm, tempting, but—”

“No, Jamie!” Sirius hissed suddenly, grabbing James’ arm. “Think about this. If Reg gets the dark blues, we’re doomed. DOOMED.”

Regulus raised a sharp eyebrow. “Are you seriously going to let him influence you? He’s barely holding onto Marvin Gardens.”

“Excuse me,” Sirius snapped, pointing dramatically at his little pile of yellow properties, “I have a strategy, Regulus. Unlike you, who just hoards cash like a miserly goblin.”

“Cash is how you win,” Regulus shot back, rolling his eyes.

Remus, meanwhile, rubbed his temples. “Merlin, it’s like babysitting toddlers. I should’ve stayed upstairs with my book.”

James, sensing the growing tension, drummed his fingers on the table. “Alright, alright, here’s the deal: I’ll trade Boardwalk... but not to Reg.”

“WHAT?” Regulus’ voice cracked as his composure slipped for a moment.

James turned to Sirius with a triumphant grin. “Pads, I’ll trade you Boardwalk for your Water Works and two hundred Monopoly dollars.”

“Done,” Sirius said instantly, snatching Boardwalk from James and handing over the agreed properties.

“Jamie!” Regulus sputtered, his calm demeanor finally breaking. “You traitor! You absolute backstabbing, Quidditch-obsessed, Gryffindor idiot!”

Sirius burst out laughing, clutching his stomach. “Oh, you should’ve seen your face, Reggie! Priceless!”

“Enjoy your fleeting victory,” Regulus hissed, his eyes narrowing as he began stacking his money with renewed determination. “Because when I bankrupt you—and I will—you’re going to regret this.”

“Bold of you to assume we’ll regret anything,” Sirius quipped, leaning back smugly.

Remus, unable to hold back a grin, shook his head. “I give it ten minutes before someone flips the board.”

“I’ll give it five,” James said, laughing as Regulus shot him a look that could’ve rivaled the Killing Curse.

[onceuponaoneshotfanfic]

"Just Friends"

Part of my 900 Followers Celebration!

Request: I'm gonna get another cheeky one in under the wire! 🥰Let's go for "please don't be in line with someone else, please don't have somebody waiting on you" and "We were never just friends..." Biggest congrats to you on the big 900! What a writer! 😘

Roy Kent x Reader

1.1k words

Warnings: Language, drinking, little bit of angst, kind of implied smut at the end?

It had been a great game for Richmond, and especially for Roy. You were so glad you’d been able to attend; it had been a while since you’d last made it to the Dog Track, despite Roy’s begging for you to come. Part of it was that you were unusually busy with work, but you had to admit that part of it was because it was getting harder and harder to spend time with Roy.

Keeley had introduced the two of you at a party, and the two of you clicked, quickly becoming the best of friends. Of course, you initially found him attractive; over time, though, you found yourself desperately in love with him, with the kindness that laid under this gruff exterior and his quick wit and his love for his niece… and about a million other little things.

But he was Roy Kent. You’d seen the models he dated, and you were definitely not his type.

Still, you knew he was happy to see you after the match, when he wrapped you in a big hug on the pitch and insisted you come to the team celebration.

“Be my date,” he’d teased, oblivious of how his words twisted your stomach.

So, there you were, in some club, sticking close to Roy, fully aware of the eyes shooting daggers in your direction. Several women- most of them stunning- had come up to him with flirtatious invitations to dance, but he’d declined. What he did instead was buy you drink after drink and laugh as he watched you joke around with the Greyhounds while he sipped his beer.

Soon enough you were just tipsy enough to start clinging to Roy, beaming up at his smirking face as he brushed some hair off of your face. “Should take you home,” he murmured, eyebrows raised. “You’re pretty fucking plastered.”

Reluctantly, you let Roy load you into a taxi and walk you to your door. He chuckled as he watched you struggle to get your key in the lock and shoved you aside to do it himself. He stood on your porch, the dim streetlight framing him angelically.

“I’m glad you came out,” he murmured, his thumb stroking your cheek. “Fucking missed you lately.” He frowned, ignoring the fact that the taxi was waiting for him. “You been avoiding me?”

You shook your head frantically. “’course not,” you lied.

He nodded, not quite believing you. “Good. Good.” He took a step back, letting his hand fall from your face. “I’ll call you tomorrow, alright?”

“Alright,” you whispered.

Once Roy was gone and your door was locked, you collapsed into bed, flipping your mobile over and over.

You’d lied to Roy. You never lied to Roy. Well, except for all those times when you’d made up an excuse for why you couldn’t hang out or make it to a game. Or the couple of times when he teasingly asked you if you fancied anyone and you vehemently denied being interested in anyone. Other than that, you never lied to Roy.

With a mix of alcohol and guilt in your stomach, you unlocked your phone and hit Roy’s contact before you could talk yourself out of it. It took only two rings before-

“What, you fuckin’ miss me already?” Roy chuckled.

“Please don’t be in love with someone else,” you blurted out, squeezing your eyes shut to avoid looking at the spinning ceiling. “Please don’t have somebody waiting on you.”

There was a long pause from his end. “The fuck are you talking about?” he finally asked quietly.

With a giant sigh, you sat up in bed. “I have been avoiding you,” you admitted. “Because I love you, Roy. I fucking love you.” You were close to drunken and embarrassed tears. “And-and I know we’re just friends, and you date models and shit, but I fucking love you.” Your eyes focused on the picture board above your dresser, where there was a rather sweet picture of you and Roy on the pitch at Nelson Road. “I love you.”

“Fuck, I-” Roy cleared his throat. “I gotta fucking go.”

He hung up. He hung up. Roy fucking hung up on you.

“Shit, shit, shit,” you hissed, the tiny part of your brain that was sober realizing what you’d just done. You tried to call Roy back, but he sent you to voicemail.

With a groan, you laid back on the bed, more miserable than you’d ever been in your entire life. You’d done it- you’d ruined your friendship with Roy Kent. Your favorite person in the world. He’d never talk to you again. He’d never look at you again. He’d probably have you banned from Nelson Road. He’d probably laugh with some gorgeous model in bed about how you actually thought you had a chance with Roy Kent. He’d probably-

Ding dong!

Okay, apparently he’d come back to your house to tell you to your face that he never wanted to see you again.

Stumbling more from panic than drunkenness, you made your way through the house as quickly as you could, banging your shoulder into a wall hard enough that you’d probably have a bruise the next morning. You finally managed to yank the door open to reveal Roy on your porch, his face crumbled as he took in your panicked expression.

“You love me?” he rasped, hands balled into fists by his side.

There was no point in lying to Roy Kent ever again. “Yes,” you admitted in your smallest voice. “I’m sorry, I know we’re just friends-”

His hands were cupping your face as he tugged you onto the porch. “Friends?” he repeated incredulously, a laugh escaping his lips. “We were never just friends, you drunk muppet.”

He brought your mouth to his, pressing the smallest, most tentative kiss to your lips; spurred by the realization that you finally had Roy Kent kissing you, you leaned into him, wrapping your arms around his waist to pull him closer. His beard tickled your face the way you’d always known it would, and when his tongue skimmed your bottom lip, you thought your heart was going to stop.

Roy pulled back with a smile, hands still grasping your face. He nodded behind him, gesturing to the still-waiting taxicab. “Should I go ahead and let him go?” His raised eyebrows begged you to say yes.

Emboldened by Roy’s kiss, you nodded, taking a step backwards and tugging him towards your open front door. “Think you better. You might be here awhile.”

Waving off the cab driver, Roy reattached his lips to yours, humming with delight as you pulled him inside.

[silverhallow]

Karting catastrophe

Inspired by @bridgertonbabe’s Bridgerton Spouse Support Chat

Summary: none of the Bridgerton’s had the bridgerton brain cell™️ when they decide to go go-karting… and of course it ends as all games nights do… in catastrophe

It had seemed like a good idea at the time, they hadn’t had a chance to be competitive with one another for months since their spouses flat out refused to have more than one games night a year after Phillip had nearly had a heart attack during a Heated monopoly games night…

But as they were waiting to be loaded into the ambulance and took the hospital, they had to admit… maybe this time it had gone too far…

Anthony had arranged to hire the go-karting facility after Greg had suggested they turn the go-karting into something more… competitive and since Mario-Kart was one of the earliest games they’d ever played together as a family of 8 it seemed the most logical.

Each of them came with their own “weapon” and they’d brought frisbees and balls from the kids' play pens. Eloise had rocked up with a shopping bag full of banana peels and weirdly Hyacinth had rocked up with baby oil.

Anthony and Benedict brought their sons Nerf guns, Colin, Daphne and Francesca had water guns, Hyacinth and Gregory each had a BB gun and Eloise had brought a paint gun…

It had started out fun but after Eloise got Hyacinth in the helmet with the paint gun that things started getting out of hand.

Hyacinth had been furious that it had caused her to crash into the barrier and ended up at the back of the field.

She’d started pouring the oil onto the track and firing her BB gun at anyone and everything thing

Benedict and Colin were out in front with Anthony and Francesca close behind them. Eloise was towards the back of the field and saw as Gregory fired blindly behind him and saw the BB pellet his Hyacinth in the face through her open Visor and everyone turned their head to hear the yell of pain and swearing come from the youngest and that’s when the pile up happened.

Anthony had turned at the wrong time and he hit the back of Colin’s kart which hit Benedict causing the kart to flip and Anthony and his kart landed on his leg Daphne smashed into them as Francesca flew into Colin, her kart smashed into his leg as she smashed into her steering wheel, Gregory smashed into the pile up, Eloise having seen it but sliding on the oil couldn’t stop had at least slowed down and she had about stopped and so it was just her wrist that hurt and Hyacinth having stopped as she’d been hit in the face has scrambled out of her kart and gone over to the pile up but her vision was so blurry that when she aimed a kick at Gregory for hitting her,missed completely and hit her toe off the kart and she heard the crack and let out of yell of pain which couldn’t be heard over the yells from the rest of the Bridgerton’s who were all in states of injury.

The owner saw it all happen and grateful he had charged a full days rental and a disclosure that should they damage anything they’d pair for the full lot of the damage and with a roll of his eye called for ambulances.

And it was where they all were now as a technician asked “who should we call to come meet you at the Hospital? Your mother?”

“NO!” They all yelled despite their various states of pain and agitation.

“Then who?” He asked with a sigh

“We can’t call Kate she’ll just be pissed we didn’t invite her and refuse to come” Anthony muttered from his spot on the board as the paramedics put the neck support around him as he’d gotten serve whiplash in the crash

“Michael won’t come, he thinks I’m out with Eloise today…” Francesca hissed as the paramedic examined her ribs

“And Phil won’t come for the same reason”

“Simon won’t come cause he thinks we’re all idiots and hates it when we do shit like this” Daphne whined

“luce thinks I’m with mum so…”

Benedict grunted something barely intelligible “what did he say??” Hyacinth called out

Eloise rolled her eyes “he said to call Sophie… Penelope can’t come as she’s too far along and out of everyone then two are the least likely to murder us all”

Colin had to agree as he knew Penelope at 8 months pregnant wouldn’t be able to drive over and Sophie was the calmest in temperament out of everyone.

Since Benedict was in too much pain Eloise gave the paramedics Sophie’s number, was put in her ambulance and with the rest of the Bridgerton’s was whisked off to hospital.

Sophie Bridgerton was sitting feeding her 9 month old daughter when her phone rang, it was a number she did not recognise but as Benedict had said he was going to an art exhibition and often forgot to charge his mobile before he went, she naively assumed it was him calling from a borrowed phone to tell her a) that his phone had died b) what time he was coming home and c) to check in on Vi and the boys.

So imagine her surprise as she answered her phone with a tentative “hello” to hear a male voice she did not recognise

“Mrs Bridgerton?”

“Yes? Who is this please?” She asked politely

“My name is Andrew and I am a paramedic with London Ambulance Service” the voice replied

“Paramedic??” Sophie practically screeched down the phone, panic and worry over taking her entire body

“Yes ma’am there is nothing to worry about we’ve got your husband and his siblings and we are taking them to the Royal London Hospital, we were told to call you to meet them there” he explained

“Wait… siblings?” Sophie asked

“Yes ma’am all 8 of them”

“What happened??”

“The details are a little hazy but there was some sort of pile up and accident at Best Go Karting in Canary Wharf” he replied and Sophie’s panic and worry turned instantly into a fury.

Go karting?! On a Wednesday afternoon, when he said he was going to an art exhibition whilst she was at home with all four kids?!?

“Right… well I’ll have to gather the kids and I’ll be along shortly” Sophie said keeping her voice as calm as she could, knowing she was likely to explode but she was prepared to give him a chance to explain. To see the level of his injury as it could just be a strain or something…

the paramedic gave her some instructions and she confirmed them back and as she hung up the phone she sighed heavily.

She was furious. Not only had Benedict lied to her, the bridgerton siblings no doubt had lied to the others because of any of the other spouses knew about this they would have given the others a heads up and the last chat in the spousal support group was them giving Phillip some advice on dealing with a pregnant Eloise.

“Charlie?!” She called up the stairs, it was half term so the boys were upstairs playing

“Yes Mama?” Came the voice of her 6 year old son

“Can you get your shoes and coat on and help your brothers please, we have to get your dad and see your aunt and uncles at the hospital” she said appearing at the bottom of the stairs and looking up

“Has daddy hurt himself again?” He asked curiously

“I think so” she replied

“Is he in trouble?”

“Oh you have no idea… hurry up please, if Alex tries to fight tell him if he behaves mama will get him a McDonald’s for tea”

“Mcdonalds??” came the squeak of 4 year old Alex, his dark curls appearing at the top of the stairs as he peered at his Mama with bright happy eyes.

“If you behave and do everything Charlie and Mama say” Sophie replied.

Alex beamed, nodded his head eagerly and ran off to listen to his older brother and within 20 minutes Sophie had all four kids in the car without so much of a complaint.

It took Sophie 30 minutes to make her way through the traffic and a further 10 minutes to get parked and the three boys waited patiently as she got Baby Violet into her pushchair and headed into the hospital in search of her ridiculous family.

It was Eloise that Sophie spotted first as she made her way into the hospital and she looked sternly as her sister-in-law, but mostly because Eloise was 6 months pregnant and should have known better.

She turned to Charlie and handed him a £5 note, “take your brothers to the shop and get some sweets whilst Mama talks to Aunt El and sees Papa okay?” she said.

Charlie beamed, took two year old William’s hand and Alex followed. Sophie knew the best way to get her kids to behave was through food and bribes and as they walked away she just looked at Eloise and with a glare said “spill”

Eloise grimaced and with a heavy sigh, explained everything that had happened right down to their discussion about calling her. “I’m waiting for them to come look at my wrist, I can’t have an X-Ray so they’re working out how to figure out if it’s broken or not…” she said

“The baby?” Sophie asked knowing when she told Phillip it would be one i oh f the first things he’d ask.

“They’re fine, it was the first thing they did when I got here. I’m the least injured, it would have been Hyacinth if she hadn’t tried to attack Greg” Eloise explained but before Sophie could do anything more than sigh, Eloise was called into the room to see her doctor and another doctor walked over to Sophie to explain what had happened and the extent of the injuries to the Bridgertons.

Sophie listened and felt her blood boiling as she listened; Anthony had whiplash so was in a neck brace, Daphne had a fractured Arm, Gregory a broken one as well as a bruised coccyx, they suspected Eloise just had a sprained wrist, Francesca had fractured a couple of ribs, Hyacinth had sustained an eye injury which would leave her with a black eye and she was wearing a patch and she’d also broken her toe kicking the go-kart and Benedict and Colin had fared the worst each breaking a leg.

Sophie felt her legs nearly go at the news. Her husband. Her idiot husband had broken his leg…

Was it not bad enough that she had four kids to deal with, now she had her injured husband, and her idiot brother-in-law was about to be a father in a month’s time had broken his as well…

“I can take you in to see your husband if you wish” the doctor said as Sophie digested all the information

“I will in a five minutes i just have a phone call to make” Sophie said

The doctor nodded “he’s in room two when you’re ready” the doctor said and walked off and headed into Francesca’s room.

Sophie had had enough, she knew exactly who needed to be called, the only person who could them see sense, to realise that they’re far too old to be doing shit like this and that they had to be more bloody responsible.

Mario Kart go karting… honestly…

With a sigh Sophie whipped her phone out and dialled the number that belonged to her mother-in-law.

“Sophie dear, this is a pleasant surprise, hello dear”

“Hello Violet, sorry but this isn’t a pleasant surprise… i’m at the hospital” Sophie said

“Oh no, is everything alright? Are the boys and Vi okay?” Violet asked sounding panicked

“Oh my kids are okay… i’m calling about yours” Sophie said

“Oh no is Ben okay?” Violet asked, assuming it was just the one she was calling about

“No he is not. He’s broke his leg… and the rest of his idiotic siblings are here also…” Sophie said and as Violet made a noise of confusion “they lied to everyone and went off to go karting and not just go karting, mario-karting…”

“Please tell me you’re making this up” Violet said

“I wish i was Violet” Sophie said as she then rattled off their injuries and everything Eloise had told her

“I am going to murder them. What do they think they’re playing at??” Violet said “I will be right down. They need their heads banging together, i am sick of this”

“Thank you Violet, I suspect some of them may require a lift home as when everyone else finds out… i can’t imagine they’ll come for them and Penelope can’t even drive at the moment so…”

“I’ll bring the minivan…” Violet said

Sophie thanked her mother-in-law and decided she’d go see her husband before she told the rest of the spouses.

The boys were still down the shop so she pushed the pushchair with a sleeping Violet into room two where Benedict was sitting in a leg brace, looking sheepish as he spotted his wife.

“I can explain…” he said sheepishly

“Can you? Can you explain why you lied to me, why your siblings all lied to their respective partners and you all went off to do something childish and not to mention Dangerous?”

“Soph… please… I am sorry I lied but firstly it wasn’t my idea and I was crashed into… and secondly, if i had told you, you would have told the other and we were just having a fun day out, we used to do it like once a month and we’ve never been injured before…”

“You do this once a month??” Sophie asked incredulously.

“Used to… we’ve not been since Violet was born and it had never been go karting…” Benedict said but seeing the look on his wife’s face he knew better than to say anything more “Look I am really sorry and I know i’m in trouble but can I take Vi and have cuddles to cheer me up please?” as he held his arms out expectantly figuring Sophie would feel a little sorry for him with his injury since it wasn’t actually his fault

“No” Sophie said and Benedict’s mouth fell open as he stared at his wife “you are not getting Violet cuddles until your leg is out of that bloody cast. We are a week into the summer holidays and you’ve rendered yourself useless for the remainder of the school holidays meaning not only do I have to look after FOUR children on my own now, but I am going to have to look after you because you’re so feckless and reckless and didn’t think for one second that this was the stupidest idea you lot could have ever come up with!” sophie replied, not even raising her voice and the moment she finished Benedict burst into tears.

Sophie knew withholding his daughter from him was the worst punishment but she was sick of them all, she was fed up of them being so reckless and competitive and he had to be taught a lesson.

“Please soph… don’t… don’t do this” Benedict sobbed

“Too late… oh and your mother is on her way… she wants a word with you all” Sophie said as she turned Violet around in her pushchair “they’ll take you down for a cast shortly then we’re going home and you’re in the spare room. I’ll be outside, letting the others know about you bloody idiots” she said as she left the room leaving her husband crying and a little panicked knowing his mother was on her way and that they were all in trouble.

Sophie sat down watching as one by one the siblings were taken into one room as per her request (curtsey of Violet) and she saw the look on their faces when they spoke to Benedict and learned their mother was en route and that was why they were being gathered in one room.

Sophie knew it was extreme but as she texted the Spousal group chat, and watched Violet, the family matriarch walk into the ward, a face like thunder, her shoulder set as she threw the door open and looked at children in various states as she yelled “WHAT ON EARTH WERE YOU ALL THINKING? LYING TO YOUR PARTNERS? I TAUGHT YOU BETTER THAN THAT”

Francesca tried to speak up “mum we didn’t…”

“DON’T EVEN THINK ABOUT LYING TO ME FRANCESCA BRIDGERTON” as she slammed the door shut and it muffled the sounds but Sophie smirked to herself as she watched each of the Bridgerton’s in turn jumping as they were yelled at.

Charlie, Alex and William all appeared a few minutes into Violet’s tirade and Alex blinked “Grandma is angry”

“I think Papa and everyone are in big trouble” Charlie said as Alex’s face lit up with a cheeky grin.

“What did Papa do?” he asked

“He lied to Mama, and broke his leg, so Papa is not allowed cuddles from anyone until his leg is better do you understand?” she said to her boys.

“Papa naughty?” two year old William asked “no snuggles?”

“Yes Papa has been naughty, we don’t tell lies do we?” Sophie asked

All three boys shook their heads “no or our noses get big!” Charlie said

“Exactly, or you hurt yourself like your Uncle’s and Aunties have” Sophie said.

Sophie just sat and watched smugly as Violet continued to yell and berate her children for nearly an hour. Phillip turned up half way through and Eloise spotted him through the window and mouthed “Rescue me”

Phillip just shook her head and took a seat next to Sophie “how long has Violet been yelling?”

“Half hour so far…” Sophie grinned

“Hopefully this will teach them a lesson”

“Between that, no Snu Snu and the film I've got of the first twenty minutes of her tirade should hopefully be enough” Sophie grinned.

“You’ve gotta send that to the chat” Phillip said and Sophie agreed, sending the video to the rest of the Spouses and they just hoped, beyond hope, that it would be the last time that they’d be visiting the hospital for a game night related injury.

[daryldixonfanfiction]

What you fight for! pt.9 - RUN!

Masterlist

summary: Escaping the city seems all too good to be true until they stumble upon a horde of walkers.

Warnings: protective!Daryl, sniper!Daryl, walkers and a lot of them, unaliving, close call, fluff, mutual pining, age gap, unrequited love, angst, child's death, suicide.

wc:3.6k

Making it safely past the guards without getting notice they continue onwards. Walking down the residential area Daryl keeps a watchful eye, never letting down his guard. Maybe it was ingrained in him, he was never the one to relax. And Henry never shutting his mouth like they weren’t still in danger only made him feel annoyed and he was agitated about keeping Julia safe, he always was.

“Why can’t we use flashlights?” Sam askes and Henry answers, “Daryl doesn't want us to draw attention.” “But no one is here.” “No, no one is here. No one’s gonna be here because my plan worked.”

“So much goddamn talkin’,” Daryl sighs, annoyed as always. Julia stifles a laugh.

“I’m just saying…I delivered,” Henry insists. “Make this right, go down the street, embankment behind the last house…and we’re free as a bird.”

They turn the corner. The sight of a fence holding a huge herd of walkers behind the houses caught his eye and Daryl hushed them into silence. The herd was big enough to take down the fence and if the dead took a whiff off there sent it would be game over. Daryl hurried them onwards and just when he looked back to Julia a gunshot almost hit her.

“Move, move!” Daryl ushers them behind a car. 

“The fuck is that comin’ from?” Henry whispered, holding his little brother close.

“Shut up,” Daryl hushed him. Pearing behind the car bumper he sees a muffle flash from a distance. It was coming from a second story window across the road. In fear and panic Henry takes Sam's hand and runs,

“What are you doing?!” Daryl questions.

“Getting the fuck out of here!” Henry said. A bullet barely misses them, making Henry return just as fast and he asks, fear lased in his voice,

“What do we do?” 

Daryl peers behind the car again, the sniper shoots another shot, clearly wanting to kill them. He leans his back against the car and sighs,

“All right. Stay here?”

“What?” Julia says panicked. Her hand fisting the fabric on his arm. Clearly scared for him to leave. And he new the only way this would work was for her to be on board,

“If you don’t move, he’s not gonna hit you. I’m gonna go around, try to get in the house through the back and I’ll take him out.”

“But if you go out there, he's gonna kill you.”

“It’s dark, and he has shit ame.” Daryl shakes his head. “Nobody's gonna kill me.”

“Then he's gonna kill us.” Julia insists.

Daryl stared down at her. Her brown eyes were practically begging him, his stomach did a flip. Her looking at him like that was similar to how she had looked at him underneath him. And it was hard to deny her. But this was how they made it out alive. And Daryl questions,

“Do you trust me?”

There was no beat of a moment, no hesitation - and she said,

“With my life.”

Daryl was struck by her answer to his very soul. How could she trust him so completely? And he could only feel more undeserving of her trust, but it was good enough. 

He nods and crawls to the front of the car, then runs to another car across the street, as the sniper takes shots at him but misses each time. He keeps running and makes it behind a fence, brushing away tree branches as he ushers true woodland. Coming up to the house he runs around it, then pauses when he sees the bridge in the distance Henry told him about. 

They were so close to getting out he could almost taste it. 

He then moves quietly inside the house by the back door. Floorboards creak under his feet with every step he takes. Holding his crossbow ready and aimed forward, he sports the staircase leading up to the upper level and begins climbing it with his back to the wall. He can hear the shots coming from above and stops, eyeing the upper level. Daryl creeps up to a room, the door is ajar. Light shines true onto his face as he shuffles closer. Narrowing his eyes he approaches. An old man with wavy gray hair holds a rifle. The man turns to him from where he sits on a chair by the window and looks at him. Daryl orders with his crossbow pointed at him,

“Put the gun down, slide it over to me, and then stay up here for another hour.”

The old man looked away and Daryl felt the pit of his stomach sink, because he knew what he had to do if the man didn't comply. “That’s all you have to do.” 

The old man tilts his head back in his direction, “Please don’t do it. Please." Daryl tried.

But the old man grabs his gun and moves to point it at him - and in that same second Daryl automatically fiers a bolt, sending the man limp to the floor. For a moment he wonderd if the man did so in knowing how it would end as he never seemed scared - but it was done and there was no taking it back.  

Daryl didn't like killing and he had taken pity on him as he was clearly very old, probably half blind by his bad aime. Retrieving the bolt he then puts his crossbow on his back to pick up the man's rifle off the floor. But just when he walks to the window the static coming from a walkie-talkie breaks the silence. 

Then. 

“ANTONY? ANTHONY? ANTHONY HOLD THEM WHERE THEY ARE. WE’RE ALMOST THERE.” A woman's voice specs over the static,

Fuck.

The fucking killing party that had ambushed them from before had found them. Daryl looked to the window and to his horror approaching headlights down the street were coming in fast, right towards where Julia and the others were hiding. Daryl yells as loud he can from the open window,

“RUN!! RUN!! RUUUUN!!!

Daryl looks true the scoop and he sees Julia and the others looking back to the incoming vehicles before they make a run for it. A large truck with a huge plow spray painted RUN on the front drives straight into cars, clearing the road like a bulldozer. He could feel himself begin to shake, the heart pounding feeling of fear breaks a cold sweat on his back, making his fingers slippery. But he couldn't let the fear consume him, he had to focus. All he let himself think of ways of protecting her.

Daryl uses the rifle to shoot at the truck and the approaching cars, acting as their sniper. Julia, Henry and Sam run for their lives, but on their feet they were no match for the fast approaching vehicles. Julia uses her gun to shoot behind her until she runs out of bullets. Just when the truck was right behind her Daryl takes one deep breath as he aims and hits the driver of the truck just as Julia trips over herself. It wears off the road and crashes into the tall fence. Hundreds of walkers could be heard from the fence pushing up against it.

Many more vehicles pull up and park as Julia is left on the ground, staring at the scene behind her, she gets up and escapes just before the crashed truck catches on fire and explodes behind her. Julia falls to the ground again and Daryl finds it hard to see her clearly. The dense smoke covers the area and burning rubell liters ground casting an orange hue over the street. Then he sees Henry run up to Julia and usher her away behind a car where they hide as armed people pore out of the cars. Four men begin to advance the house at the leader's orders as others stand guard towards the fence where walkers could be heard groening and pushing at the fence.

Daryl is quick to lean his back against the wall and reloads the rifle - then the women's voice he recognises from the walkie-talkie begins, Daryl listens from the window,

“Dead end guys. Gonna step on out? Save us some time?” Onely silence followed, the leader continued. “No? That’s all right. Doesn't matter.”

“I’ll come out!” Henry suddenly spoke up. “Just let my brother and the girl go!”

“No,” the leader answered monotonically. “Sorry. The girl is with the man who killed Bryan. And your brother…Well, he's with you.”

“You don’t understand!” Henry pleads.

“But I do,” the female leader insists. “I know why you did what you did. But that doesn't make it right. My people want justice, and that’s what’s gonna happen.”

“Hes just a fucking kid!” Henry pleads again, clearly scared for his brother.

“Well, kids die. They die all the time. You think the whole world revolves around him? That he's worth…everything? Well, this is what happens when you fuck with us. You all are going to have to pay the price.”

Then, Daryl ses Henry stand with his hands up, Julia and Sam still hiding behind the car. He steps forward and stares at the leader and that’s when Daryl knew for sure that he was one of the good people. He wasn't only protecting his brother, he was protecting her too.

The woman shrugs and tilt’s her head, “It ends the way it ends,” she said, holding Henry at gunpoint.

Daryl held his breath knowing for what was coming - but it never happened. 

Horrifying screams from the men by the fence could be heard true the dense smoke. Everyone's attention turns to the sound of the dead and to their horror, a herd of hundreds of walkers were hedging straight for them. 

Chaos erupts as everyone begins to fire towards the horde but the dead are too many, overpowering them. Henry runs back to Sam and Julia as the infected attack the people. A walker sneaks behind the car and Daryl shoots it from his lookout. He sees them make a run for it and shoots down the infected after them. A walker gets a hold of Julia, he shoots it down instantly. She begins to army crawl towards a vehicle, Daryl tracks her movements and continues shooting walkers that get in her way. Julia then stands and runs towards the car, its back window is broken open and she sliders true to the tiny opening inside. Daryl shoots a walker clawing at the window and he sees her thinking in there and all he wanted was for her to get out of there and get her to safety. He would never forgive himself if anything happened to her. 

Julia may be immune but she wasn't immune to being eaten alive.

Another Walker claws at the window, and to its horror it begins to open the dore, something he had never seen or knew a walker could do.

He begins to frantically shoot to warn Julia of the incoming threat, and never before had he felt so powerless. When the walker got inside the car it felt like the longest seconds of his life. There was nothing he could do then believe she could get out of this situation herself. It almost felt like he couldn't breathe, the fear of losing her felt overbearingly overwhelming. But then he could see her head moving about in the car and she had crawled her way to the front, making her way out and trapped the walker inside the car. Julia sits on the ground, Daryl sees her scanning the chaos before her, spotting Henry and Sam hiding under a car as two walkers try to get to them. Then she looks up at him as if knowing he would have her back in what she was about to do. Julia sprints towards them and doges, infected as Daryl shots them down. A car ramming true walkers almost hits her but she keeps going towards where Henry and Sam are kicking at the walkers clawing at them. Julia reaches them and takes down a walker, driving her knife into its head then moves to the other, Daryl shoots it down before she could take it out. Julia helps Henry and Sam up and they run towards the house he's in. 

Daryl takes it as his time to exit the house. Running towards the way he knew Henry would lead them towards the bridge. 

“STOP!” the female leader shouts, holding the tree of them at gunpoint up ahead.

Daryl runs even faster - than out of the darkness a walker sneaks behind the woman and before she could shoot it bites into her neck. She is being devoured on the ground when he finally makes it to them.

Seeing Daryl right there before her, Julia felt relief flooding in. She wanted to cry, leep into the safety of his big arms and stay there forever - but there was no place for such a thing. A silent thank you echoes in her mind as he takes a firm hold of her hand, clearly not wanting to be separated again, and neither does she. A silent reinsurance of ‘I got you’ - and Julia returns it just the same.

“This way now!” Daryl orders urgently, “Move!”

And they run away from the chaotic scene between the people and the horde of walkers.

Making it safely over the bridge they take shelter in the unbounded military radio station outside the city. And to their disappointment there were no survivors from the fireflies there, but at least some food. They agreed on heading west to Wyoming together in the morning.

Daryl and Henry keps watch in the main room as Julia lets Sam look at her drawings in her diary, a distraction from the horror the kid had just been true. The soft glow of the lantern and Julia's motherly voice coming from the twin bedroom offers a calmness only she could provide. 

He found her selfless in that way. Being able to put behind one selves needs for someone else. Like she did for Sam. Then as it was late Henry insisted for his little brother to go to bed and he did as he was told. But it didn't take long before the kid came out of the bedroom asking for Julia to tuck him in instead of his brother. The kid clearly took a liking to her and Daryl knew it had to do with what Henry had told him.

Julia followed the kid inside and she could be heard speaking were softly, and very much so the only thing he heard was her saying,

“Go to sleep now. I will be right here when you wake up.”

“Promis?” Same asked and Julia answered reassuringly, “I promise.”

“Julia?”

Julia hummed in acknowledgment and Sam said with his little voice, “Can you sing me goodnight? Mommy always did.”

“ofcourse, what songs did she sing?”

“I don’t remember.”

“That’s okay."

Soothing melodies of her lullaby fill the room. It felt so calming all the men could do was to stop and listen. Her voice sounded almost religious. Angelike. She was the universe singing to it’s own song. It sounds like life falling in love with being alive. A reminder that life could still be beautiful in an ugly world. And he realized that it was moments like these that gave a reason to keep fighting. And he wowed he would do whatever it takes to keep it so.

Daryl moved to the bedroom, admiring from the dore and washes her soothingly smooth back the kids hair. Daryl sees how Sam melts into her touch and how his eyes begin to become heavy, fluttering close into the world of dreams. And when he falls asleep Daryl steps inside. 

“You should get some sleep,” Daryl said softly 

Julia hums and moves a piece of hair from Sam’s face. His eyes studies her, and he asked,

“You okay?"

Julias hand on Sam's face stills for a second - but then, 

"He's scared.”

Daryl steps closer, standing behind her where she's sitting on the shear by the bead. He studies her side profile and her soft features in the dim glow. Then followed where her hand moved, her thumb making soothing circles on Sam's hand. 

“You think he will be okay?” He asked.

“I hope so,” she answered softly and he could see the exhaustion under her eyes. “I promised him I would be here when he wakes up.”

Daryl hums in understanding, knowing she wouldn't leave the kids' side, he moves and grabs a blanket off the other bed and without a word he drops it over her shoulders, a silent act of kindness. He's met with her sweet smile and her kind eyes. A wordless thank you that made his heart pound and his stomach swirl with butterflies. He wanted so badly to confess to his feelings, but instead he stepped closer, tilting her chin up like he had done before and asked one more time,

“You sure you’re alright?”

Julia nods, looking true her eyelashes straight into his blue ones. It was dangerous. He shouldn't be this close, feel this comfortable with someone he could never have. The way she looks up at him with those brown eyes, reminds him of how she had looked knelt between his knees all those knights ago. Fuck. Why couldn't he control his mind? He had to stop before it was too late... And he did so, reluctantly removing his hand from her chin. And he didn't miss how she closed her eyes as if she didn't  want him to let go. But he knew it to be his imagination playing tricks on him, making him see things that weren't there.

Softly Daryl closed the bedroom door, going back to keeping wash with Henry in the main room and kept watch as long as his body would let him, because just like Julia he was completely exhausted.

Daryl flinches awake as Julia and Sam spill out of the beedrome. He was disoriented by the sudan comotion and Julia’s terrified screams for help, but then he jumped into action realizing Sam must have turned into a walker.

Julia and Sam struggle on the floor, she is being pinned down, Daryl doesn't hesitate to lunch for the gun on the floor, but Henry snages it before he can reach it,

“Nope, nope, nope.” Henry warns, keeping the gun pointed at him.

“Daryl!” Julia screams on the floor.

Daryl was panicking inside. Eny second and the kid would rip her into pieces.

Daryl reaches for his weapon but Henry fiers at his feet, stopping him. Julia screams for him over and over and he didn't care anymore, her life was far more important than his. Then, Henry spins around and shoots his brother and Sam’s body falls off Julia and lays limp on the floor, blood starts to seep out from the body. Henry Stads frozen and Julia sits up disheveled.

“Julia. Are you okay?" Daryl asks, breathing heavy.

Slowly Julia turns and looks at him, clearly shaken by what had happened. He steps forward but Henry points the gun at him. Daryl puts his hands up, and moves very carefully towards Henry who was in both shock and disbelief after having to shoot his own brother. Daryl begins calmy, 

“Easy, easy, easy,” Henry’s hold on the gun becomes unsteady, Daryl tries to calm him before he does something stupid. “Henry, gimme the gun. Henry, gimme the gun.”

“What did I do?” Henry said in disbelief.

“Shh,” Daryl calms.”

“What did I do? What-what-,” he stutters. “-what did I do?” He looks at his brother with tears in his eyes, becoming pale, looking like he wanted to throw up. “Sam…” his voice broke, but there was no answer.

“Henry, gimme the gun. Gimme the gun.” Daryl motions for the weapon.

And for a second it seemed like Henry came to his senses - but he saw the shift behind his eyes and his stomach sank. Henry points the gun to his own head and to his horror pulls the trigger.

“Henry, no!” Daryl shouts, but it was too late.

Henry's lifeless body collapses to the floor. Julia stares with watery eyes, completely distraught of seeing two people dying right before her eyes.

He had never seen her so broken.

He didn't know what to do, or what the right thing to say was. Neither did he understand how it all had gone so wrong, so terribly wrong when it had just seemed to look up finding Henry and Sam. Julia was like a doll, unmoving and emotions less. She looked so small, so fragile on the floor - just blankly staring into nothing.

Daryl kneels before her, trying to get her attention and even though her eyes were looking into his, she was somewhere else. As if she had removed herself from the present  in order to cope.

-

He knew Sam meant alot to her so he buried them outside in the yard with two merkershift crosses on each grave. Just when he finished evening out the dirt on top with a shovel, Julia for the first time sins Henry opted out hours ago moved on her own, walking up to him with both of their stuff.

With a somber expression Julia leaves her bracelets on Sam's grave, and he washes her in silence as she does so. The midday sky was clear, the sun shining down on them and he didn't exactly know how he was going to get her to Wyoming, six states away across the country, but he knew they would probably be walking. 

He puts down the shovel wis his pac now on, then looks at her there still sitting down by the grave,

“Julia.” Daryl said softly. “We should go.” And he reaches his hand out, Julia looks at him and he encourages. “Comon.” And she takes it.

Pt.10 masterlist

[noonaishere]

Online/Offline [C.S] - fifty-seven | five yeets deep

The whole group had Keeho’s stream up on their screens. It was his room, empty, with his chair and microphone set up in front of the camera. You all began humming Pomp and Circumstance, as Keeho entered the room in the background. He opened the door, T-posed awkwardly in the doorway for a moment, walked into the room and closed the door behind him. He stood, purposefully awkwardly for another moment, before walking over to his desk and sitting in the chair and putting his headphones on.

You all cheered.

“Woo!”

“Yeah!”

“It’s our boy!”

“Our boy is back!”

Keeho pretended to shush you in a solemn way.

“Yoon Keeho,” you said, effecting a reporter’s voice, “how do you feel about JUPiTER’s combined seven music show wins from this comeback?”

Keeho pulled one of the Music Bank awards towards him from where it was hidden from the camera and pretended to get choked up.

“He has one!” Yeji shouted and started laughing.

“MuBank!” San yelled.

“Ooooh,” Mick and Bracken said together.

“Show off,” Ryujin laughed.

“If you win, you might as well flaunt,” Keeho said as he dabbed at the no tears he had on his face with an imaginary handkerchief.

You laughed.

“But yeah, it’s actually really cool we won so many. The producers worked really hard in making us some amazing songs, the choreographers and dancers worked really hard making choreos that made us look good, the staff worked really hard with our costumes and hair and makeup and getting us where we needed to be and making sure were taking care of ourselves in the flurry of it all, and we took all that and worked really hard to bring the fans something they would love. And then our fans worked so hard voting and streaming and coming out at 1am to see the recordings and cheer for us… We’re all really proud of all of us and how we did, I think our wins were well deserved and extremely appreciated.”

“Do you get to keep the award Keeho?” Yeji asked.

“No, I have to give it back to my manager tomorrow so they can put it in the case at the company.” He put it back out of the camera’s view.

“They put all the awards in one case?” 

“Yeah, each artist or group has a case and they put any awards you win in it. Our dance team has a huge case actually, since they win so many contests.”

“That’s really cool.”

“Oh yeah, they totally deserve it. They’re called To The Beat and you should check out their youtube channel.” He winked and fingergunned at the camera.

“We’re all super proud of you, big guy.” You said.

“As my oldest and bestest friend, that means a lot, Cat.”

“It better.” 

He laughed. “Now, can you introduce me to the new guy?”

“Oh!” You said. “Keeho, this is Morn. MorningStar. I asked him to stream while you were away during your comeback.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” San said.

“Mhm, mhm.” Keeho nodded. “And what is this, you talk to boys now?”

“I’m talking to you, dumbass.” You said.

“I’m telling your parents that you’re meeting boys.”

“Tell them I met you, stupid.”

“Should I leave the stream?” San asked.

“Don’t pay attention to him, Morn, he’s an idiot.”

Keeho jokingly slammed his hands on his desk. “I don’t care how polite he is, he’s a boy!”

“I’m going to call your mom.”

Keeho’s eyes went wide and the other group members laughed.

“Anyway, so what games do we have lined up?”

“Yeet!”

“Yeet!”

“Yeet!”

“Yeet!”

“Yeet!”

“That’s it. The stream is out of control,” Ryujin said. “We are five minutes into this game and are already five Yeets deep.”

You laughed and hit the button to flip the table again. “Yeet!”

“Stop flipping the table! We’re not getting anywhere!” She yelled.

“I can’t believe you guys planned virtual board games for my return stream.” Keeho said.

“I can’t believe you’d think we’d plan anything else.” Mick retorted.

“Touché.”

“Touchy,” Bracken said, flipping the table.

Ryujin’s icon lit up as you heard her sigh loudly.

“Maybe we should take it easy on our lovely hostess, everyone.” San suggested.

“Maybe…” Keeho trailed off as the table reset and then flipped again. You knew he was the one who did it.

You all laughed again.

“Yeji, what are you doing?” Mick asked. “You’ve been quiet for a while.”

“Playing Lost Ark on another screen.” Bracken gasped. “During our game of Cluedo?”

“Clue.” Keeho corrected.

“Stephen, I will not have--”

“Not again.” You said.

“Are we really playing the game, Bracken? Or have you all been flipping the table since we started and we haven’t even handed all the clue cards out yet?” Ryujin asked.

“Cluedo,” Bracken corrected.

“I meant the cards have clues on them--”

“They are clues, Bracken,” Keeho said forcefully. “Not ‘cluedos’.”

You still had the streams of the members who used webcams - Keeho, Mick, and Bracken - up and you laughed as you watched Bracken widen his eyes and sighed incredulously.

“You can’t just just not call the game by its name, Keeho.”

“Umm, I am calling it by its name, Bracken? It’s called Clue.”

“Mate, it’s from the UK and it’s called Cluedo.”

“What about you, Mick? You’re from the US and moved to Australia, which do you call it?”

Dead air for a second and then Mick said, “...No entiendo.”

“Why is it even called ‘Cluedo’ anyway?” San asked. “My English isn’t great, but that’s not a word, right?”

“I’m looking it up,” you said. 

One of the reasons you were thankful to have Keeho in your life is that, as someone who lived in Canada when he was younger, he was invaluable when it came to high school English classes. Teachers thought you put a ton of time into studying when really, it was just that you had a friend who was fluent in English. And that wasn’t a fact that was known to many, since he didn’t want to be bothered by people who wanted to be his friend because they thought he could do their English homework for them, in addition to the people who were already bothering him because they wanted to be friends with an idol trainee. It was easy enough for you to open google and type ‘Why is it called Cluedo’ in english. You opened a link and scrolled for an answer as Keeho and Bracken continued to argue.

“Huh.” You said.

“What?” San asked.

 “I honestly didn’t expect an answer like this: apparently the word ‘Cluedo’ is a portmanteau of ‘clue’ and ‘ludo.’”

“What’s ‘ludo’?” Yeji asked.

“‘Ludo’ is the latin word for ‘play’, and the title ‘Cluedo’ is supposed to mean that you use the clues to play the game and solve the mystery.”

“Huh.” Mick said.

“Or you flip the table a million times and don’t even start.” Ryujin said.

“Or that,” you chuckled.

The table flipped.

“Cat, if that was you--!” Ryujin yelled.

You laughed. “It wasn’t! I was reading the thing! I would have said it if I did it!”

“Lowkey, kind of want to play Lost Ark with you, Yeji.” Ryujin said.

“Come play.” Yeji responded.

“Do you all mind if we leave to stream that?”

“I don’t mind.” You said.

Everyone else agreed.

“Before you go, Ryujin…”

“Yeah?”

“I wasn’t the one who flipped the table just then.”

“...I believe you.” She left.

“That’s because it was me,” Mick said and laughed evilly. Two seconds later, he laughed hysterically.

“What are you laughing at?” Bracken asked.

“Ryujin’s cursing me out in my chat.”

“Deserved.” San said.

“Yeah… most of the flips were me. I’m sorry Ryujin. I’ll host the game next time and you can flip the table on me.”

“I like how you avoided the name of the game that time,” Keeho said.

“Speaking of,” Bracken interjected, “I can’t play this game with a man who refuses to call it by its correct name.”

“Uh huh.” Keeho said. “If you look up the game it literally says ‘called Clue in North America’ on every single link. It’s almost like they did it themselves.”

“Do British people speak a lot of Latin that they’d know it’s ‘clue’ and ‘ludo’ together?” San asked innocently.

“Bracken?” You asked. “Thoughts?”

He didn’t say anything for a few moments.

“You’re part of the Commonwealth, did you immediately know those were the words it was made from when you first saw or heard the title?”

Silence.

“You there?”

Di-Dng!

“Did he just leave?!” You yelled.

Mick laughed. “He’s going ‘AHH!’ in the other room. I’ve never seen him this worked up about something before.”

“I win.” Keeho said.

“How did you win?” San asked.

“Did he really have a horse in the race for no reason?” You asked no one in particular.

San laughed.

“I’m going to get going, I think,” Mick said. “We actually have to take the dog to the vet tomorrow and that’s always a chore.”

“Shouldn’t have gotten a husky.”

Mick chuckled. “Yeah, I could do without the screaming. From both of them. But we’ll see you guys later.”

You all said bye and Mack left.

“So, what do we do now?” Keeho asked.

“Mmm…” You mused.

“...mmmmmMinecraft?” San asked.

“Yes!”

“I can’t believe you started playing Minecraft again,” Keeho said.

“Why?” 

“You were so bad at it,” he laughed.

“Hey!” You laughed. “I’ve gotten better.”

“I saw some of your streams, Cat: not by much.”

“Heyyy,” you pouted.

“She hasn’t done too bad,” San interjected. “She built a whole section of our house. Come look at it.”

San invited Keeho to the world the two of you shared and all of you hopped into it. Keeho spawned in a random spot and San sent him the coordinates, and suddenly Keeho was with the two of you in the house.

“Come see,” San’s avatar ran off and you and Keeho followed behind. Once you all made it outside, he ran over to the wing you built all on your own. “See?”

“Oh, wow, that’s actually pretty nice. Did you do it in Creation Mode or regular?”

“I did it in Regular.” You said proudly.

“Wow…” Keeho walked around the building for a bit.

“She worked really hard on it, you need to acknowledge that.” San said as Keeho looked around at the house.

Keeho walked back and looked at him for a second. “Yeah. You did a really good job, Cat.”

“Thank you.” You said.

San’s avatar turned to look at you and you wondered if it meant he was smiling at you. You smiled back reflexively, feeling a little silly as you did so since he couldn’t see it.

“We should find a group of bandits and fight them.” You said.

“Let’s go!” San said and ran off, You and Keeho following behind him.

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Send an ask or leave a comment if you want to be added to the tag list! 🧋

@rachs-words • @stayatinykatsy •

[sweeter-innocence-fics]

You Brought Your Worst and I’m Right Here - Chapter Four: Was it just a summer fling?

Pairing: Gale of Waterdeep x female Tav

Work Summary:

After an explosive falling out between Gale and his academic adviser, Mystra, Tav is left to pick up the pieces.

Modern/College AU.

Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 Epilogue

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 1699

Read on AO3.

Masterlists.

Taglist: @mrs-kai-anderson @ang3l1te @missryerye

Taglist info

Previous Chapter

Notes: all the usual warnings, plus arguing/shouting and general mental health stuff

---

A year ago

The chessboard was set. It was a Saturday night in the winter of their third year, all of their friends were out celebrating the end of exams, and Tav and Gale were sitting across from each other, chessboard between them.

Tav hadn’t much liked chess before she met Gale. Even still, he usually won, because she didn’t have the patience to think through every move as carefully as she knew she should.

But she liked playing with Gale. His eyebrows drew together in concentration, and when the games were close, she catch a glimpse of his tongue poking out from between his teeth. It was precious.

She took a sip of her hot chocolate, eyes intent on his face. He didn’t notice. He was far too focused on the game.

They had a longstanding “loser pays for dinner” agreement, but Tav wasn’t worried. Gale never made her pay more than her fair share, even when he should. She knew he came from a pretty well-off family, so it was no skin off his back.

Decisively, he moved a bishop, taking one of her knights. She watched his fingers wrap around the elegantly carved little wooden horse and put it to the side. Her eyes followed the movement of his hands as he wove his fingers together, resting his elbows on the table.

He had strong, dextrous hands. Not for the first time, Tav wondered what it would feel like to interlace her fingers with his.

He cleared his throat, and her eyes darted to his, startled, like she’d been caught. There was an amused expression on his face.

“Your move,” he said, gesturing at the board.

“I know,” she said, voice coming out a little strained. “I’m just… contemplating my options.”

“Of course. By all means.” He sat back in his chair, that smug little smile on his face. If he were anyone else, she would probably want to punch him, but somehow Gale managed to make smug look charming.

She stared back at the board. Her stomach grumbled.

“Hungry?” he said. “We can order now, if you-”

“No, I’m fine.” She was starting to realise that perhaps chess was a bad idea. Her last exam of the semester had been yesterday, and her brain was very tired. Perhaps that explained why she was feeling more impatient than usual.

She took her move, fully aware that there were surely better moves that she hadn’t even considered. Sure enough, in two more turns, Gale was check-mating her. He didn’t even take a moment to bask in his victory like he usually did.

“Now can we order food? I’m famished,” he said. He was grinning at her in a way that made her empty stomach do a little flip.

“Fine. But after dinner, we’re playing Settlers of Catan.” Now that was a game that Tav had a better shot of winning.

“Fine by me.”

*

Now

Tav heard Gale’s voice before she saw him. Her heart leapt into her throat at the sound of the front door closing. He was home.

She strode over to her bedroom door, and then hesitated. Would he even want to see her, after she’d avoided coming to visit? Did she even want to see him?

Distantly, she heard Wyll saying something, and then a laugh. That was good. At least he didn’t sound miserable.

Her hand was resting on the doorknob. Her other hand went to her pocket, pulling out her phone. There were no new messages, but maybe she should check her emails? She scanned through her messaging apps, and the next thing she knew, she was scrolling through twitter.

She perched on her desk chair. She wasn’t fully sitting down; she would get up and go downstairs in a moment. Just as soon as she’d finished reading this thread.

When the knock came at her door, startling her, she realised that it was getting dark in her room. Her lips curled into a frown as she got to her feet and switched the light on. Before she could talk herself out of it, she opened the door.

Gale was standing in the hallway outside of her room. When their eyes met, he smiled at her uneasily. All of the things that Tav should’ve, could’ve, still could say rushed through her mind in a torrent that made it hard to catch hold of any one string of words.

“I love you” and “I’m sorry” and “you scared the ever-loving shit out of me” availed themselves of her, but all felt too crass or too honest. She had to protect her heart, because no one else would.

“Hey,” said Gale. “Tav. It’s good to see you.”

“It’s good to see you too,” she said stiffly. “I’m glad you’re…” Alive. “… okay.”

“Yeah.” There was a pause. Tav was finding that her eyes were happy to settle anywhere but on his face. She fixed her gaze on a painting hanging on the wall behind him. “How are you?”

“Oh, you know. I’m okay. Been busy, you know?” She braced herself. “Sorry I couldn’t come and see you in the hospital. It was… all a bit hectic, with coursework, and stuff, you know?”

Gale swallowed. “Of course. It’s fine. You don’t need to apologise.”

They were both lying, and they both knew it.

“Are you coming down for dinner?” he asked. “Karlach and Lae’zel are both coming over to celebrate my release.”

“Of course. I’ll be down in a minute.”

For the first time, Gale smiled. “I’ll see you downstairs.”

*

It had been four days since Gale had come home, and Tav hadn’t been alone with him since the first evening when he’d come and knocked on her door. She would disappear up to her room as soon as she got home from classes, emerge at mealtimes (Wyll was pretty insistent that they all try to eat dinner together, where possible) and then go back to her room.

Every so often, she could feel Gale’s eyes on her during dinner, but she staunchly avoided his gaze.

And it wasn’t that she wasn’t trying. Sometimes, she would make a concerted effort to make conversation with him, but every word felt stilted and forced.

It didn’t help that she was sleep deprived. She slept fitfully, plagued by nightmares of Gale’s limp body and vomit-stained sheets. It was all she could see whenever she closed her eyes.

She was alone in the kitchen when he cornered her. Her heart plummeted as he walked into the room.

“Tav. Hey,” he said, looking nervous.

“Afternoon,” she said, opening the fridge, just so that she would have somewhere to look.

“Can we talk?”

It took every ounce of her self-control not to visibly blanche. “Sure.” She still wasn’t looking at him.

“Are we… okay? It feels like things have been… weird between us.”

Tav watched as the fridge door gave a little shudder. She couldn’t make sense of what she was seeing, until her eyes traced a path to her trembling hand that was curled, vice-like around the handle of the fridge door. She laughed – wet, throaty – at the absurdity of it, blinking back tears.

“Are we okay?” she repeated, stifling another hysterical laugh. She released the door, letting it fall shut. “Of course we’re not okay, Gale. You tried to kill yourself.”

She turned to look at him, then. His eyes were wide, his mouth slightly open as if he was about to say something, but no words came.

“I thought I’d lost you.” Her shaking hands came up to her face to rub away at the tears that were streaming down her cheeks. “I found you, did you know that? I found your unconscious body and I was scared that you were already dead. I thought I was going to live the rest of my life with you on my conscience because I couldn’t save you.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” he said, so softly that she almost missed it.

“I know that,” she snapped back at him, taken aback by the harshness of her own voice. “And all I could wonder is why you never talked to me. Why you never told me what was going on with you. Why you wouldn’t let me help you. You spent months pushing me away and leaving me to worry what I’d done wrong. And now you wonder why I can barely look at you?” She was almost shouting now. Her voice felt wrong to her own ears. Still, Gale was just staring at her. She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself.

“It hurt, Gale,” she said, much quieter now. “You hurt me and scared me and I don’t know how to forgive you, and I feel guilty because I know how hard this must be for you, but that doesn’t make me any less angry.”

“Is everything okay?” Wyll’s voice from the doorway made her jump. He stepped into the kitchen, looking from Gale to Tav and back, concern in his eyes. Astarion followed behind him, although his eyes stayed fixed on Tav.

She swallowed. She looked at Gale. He looked devastated, staring back at her with his big brown puppy dog eyes.

“Tav,” he said, and that made her hackles rise again. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

His apologies hit her like a blow to the chest. He was the one who needed help right now. What was she doing shouting at him and making him feel worse about himself? The last thing he needed was for someone to push him back towards the edge.

A sob shuddered through her and she stepped backwards, her back hitting the fridge. Gale reached for her but she shook her head, and he drew back.

“I don’t want you to apologise,” she said. Her voice sounded high and weak. “I just want you to be okay.”

She couldn’t look at any of them as she walked past them. Her feet carried her back to her bedroom, where she drew the deadbolt across and shut the curtains. In the dark, she stripped off her bra and jeans, leaving her in just a t-shirt and underwear, and then crawled into bed.

Next Chapter

[southerndragontamer]

Egotober Day 29: Fright

Virgil was in his room as he rocked with his hands over his ears, his heart raced in his chest and the shadows in the room were darker as they pulled in towards him and he tried to breathe right. He hated panic attacks, hated hated hated-he mentally shook himself a second to try to remember what had happened. Why he was like this, why Thomas was so panicked.

It had been a normal day so far, he’d poked at Thomas to turn the stove off after he’d finished cooking, to turn the water off in the bathroom after he’d done his teeth and to double check his pockets for his phone and keys. You know the normal small anxiety stuff that they both knew had to happen to get him to function right.

Even the game night with Thomas’ friends had been fine, Virgil hadn’t even been that bad about checking the math more than once in his head at Logan’s insistence on it but it had actually been…fun to watch them all geek out over the board game. But…oh…the anxious side felt his breath hitch in his metaphysical chest.

After the game night, when Roman and Remus had vanished into Imagination to work on their respective creativity, Patton had went to the kitchen and Logan to decompress from social interaction in the library with Janus at his heels for the same reason, Thomas had gone to do the same with some tv. And there had been a brief flip to a religious channel.

Virgil didn’t have anything against religion by concept, or thought that everyone was a nut job who forced their views down everyone’s throat and were closed minded to change because it didn’t fit ‘their version’ of their gods ideals that was actually so far from the original text due to how humans had played it like a game of telephone over the years no one remembered the real thing-Focus Virgil! He took a shaking breath and got back on track.

It had just been one line, something stupid about ‘gay marriage being unholy’ or similar but it had sent Thomas right back into the mindset he’d had as a teen before he’d come out and that was why Virgil was having a panic attack. He needed to get to Thomas, now. Before the others felt it, especially Remus. He shut his eyes tight, ignored the feeling of wrong, wrong, wrong that crawled up his spine and popped up next to a slightly hyperventilating Thomas, eyes locked on a blank tv. Virgil used his deeper tone to get his attention,

“Thomas. Thomas, look at me.”

Frightened hazel, pupils blown wide in panic and anxiety and fear- Virgil slowly reached out and took Thomas’ tense shoulders in shaking hands and looked him in the eye with glowing purple. He spoke slowly so that he could focus on the tone first, then the words.

“Thomas, you’re having a panic attack. I know why and it’s ok, I understand why it triggered this. But the old man is wrong, ah-ah no…deep breath in for me….hold it….yes he’s wrong Thomas. He doesn’t know what holy really is, he wouldn’t understand love is love if it bit him in the pope hat…let it out.”

Virgil smirked as his crude tinged joke got a huffed out sheepish laugh and he nodded in reassurance as he leaned in just a little closer, pulled him into a hug as he kept talking, like Patton did when he was in his own anxious spiral and brought him through his breathing exercises.

“Yeah there you go Thomas, deep breath in….seven seconds, hold it…it’s all ok. You aren’t wrong for loving someone, you were made this way when you were born. Nothing about you was ‘corrupted’ or ‘twisted’ or ‘just happened out of the blue’ or ‘a phase’ or whatever the hot pockets you’ve been told. Let it out….good. Now, since we’re calmed down wanna watch some Disney? There’s a Halloween inspired marathon on that has Nightmare Before Christmas and Hocus Pocus in it.”

[bigtimesinsmallspaces]

Total Eclipse of the Trip

There are a lot of lessons to be learned when you book a train trip that spans 12 plus days, 6000 miles, and a lifetime of dreams. There are routes, maps, and timetables to study, and then it is cobbled together with towns, sights, and special interests along the way. Back in January PG had her double screen home office displaying Amtrak maps as we began piecing together, bit by bit, the dream trip, leaving time for connections and considering the optimum direction for each train, as well as daylight hours for the most scenic sections. Why go through the Sierras in the dark? And if you do have to make a connection, it’s best to do it where you don’t mind hanging a bit, just in case you miss that connection and are stuck there for hours (days). Much of this I learned from hours of study on the Amtrak Facebook pages (sad stories of families stranded in Idaho after rock slides and other such bring my dream down a notch why don’t ya stories). So I learned early that there were going to be glitches over the course of these 6000 miles and I was poised to pivot with aplomb—extra night here, a layover there, I had backup plans for every step of the way. However, I was NOT prepared to pivot before we even began.

That’s right. There we are getting on the train in Philly, headed to DC and from there on the overnight train to Chicago, where on Monday we would board the king of all trains, the whisperer of the wind, the Amtrak flagship—the amazing California Zephyr. Hearts pounding with excitement we step on that train and as the doors close I hear my phone ringing. With a quick dismissal upon seeing an 800 number I assure PG it is just the Red Cross in pursuit of my blood.

Well with that buildup you probably guessed that my blood is not really in that much demand. Indeed that was Mrs. Amtrak calling to put a cabash on our 3000 hours of planning and 6900 miles of traveling. The California Zephyr was CANCELLED for Monday due to high winds. High winds? A train can’t go through high winds? I can ride my BIKE on the beach in high winds. I am incensed. But Mrs. Amtrak insists that safety is her concern and apparently she considers 90 MPH winds to be beyond high, and in fact she thinks they are very very high, and she does not care about our 3000 hours of planning or disappointment. We can have a refund. A REFUND? There is no amount of money that will convince us to pack up and go home. Without delving into the minutia of details for how to rearrange 6000 miles, start to finish, suffice it to say Philly Girl went to work on her computer, and with the help of multiple Amtrak agents in person and on the phone, and in person agents on the phone with other agents, we flipped our trip upside down and backwards, first on to Montana, then back to Chicago on the Zephyr at the end of our trip (hopefully the winds have died down by next week).

So right now we are in 93% eclipse Chicago on this beautiful, sunny, warm spring day after a beautiful overnight ride. Did we sleep? Sort of. More on some of the logistics later. But it sure was a beautiful ride through beautiful Harper’s Ferry, WV, Pittsburgh, Sandusky (Hello Will and Missy), and into Chicago this morning.

Chicago Union Station is amazing. Built in 1925, it covers many city blocks and features beautiful design and art. We cashed in some Guest Reward points to gain access to the Metropolitan Lounge. This is a game changer on long trips offering an array of snacks, coffee, a marvelous shower (yes a shower, did you think there would be no showers?), and best of all, a place to stash our luggage while we explored Chicago and experienced the amazing eclipse as well as an amazing lunch. If you ever take the train to Chicago know that the station is a joy and is located in a beautiful area with lots to do and see in walking distance.

We’re getting ready to board the Empire Builder headed west now. While the trip we had planned got eclipsed, we’re taking it all as a sign to make the most of whatever surprises come next.

[the-sparkling-diamond-satine]

OK for the WIP ask game, I esp wanna know more about - more than these actually, but to keep it to a manageable ask....

5. Fuffy Catholic boarding school

9. Fuffy Hope in a bottle

16. Echo Fuffy fake marraige

22. Fuffy 2020

24. Gender wishverse

Send me an ask with a title that intrigues you from my list of wip's and I'll tell you something about it or post a snippet from it.

Fuffy Catholic boarding school:

This one is summarized here, but since you asked, here is a snippet:

Buffy’s got one arm propped up by Faith’s head, leaning in so close that Faith can feel Buffy’s warm breaths on her cheek. The little gold saint medal Buffy never takes off from around her neck brushes Faith’s neck where it hangs. Faith flinches slightly, half expecting it to burn her. Crosses and holy water and medals with saints on them are supposed to hurt evil and sinful creatures, and Faith’s never considered herself to be anything but. And sure, Faith’s never gotten hurt touching any of that stuff before, but she’s also never had Buffy, the pride and joy of St. Cecilia’s school, straddling Faith in her own bed before, looking like a literal angel with her curly blonde head and her virginal white school-issued nightgown. Faith’s never had such dirty, sinful thoughts in her whole entire life, feeling Buffy’s strong thighs snug around her hips and looking up into Buffy’s green eyes, dark but with a hint of surprise, like she thought this was gonna feel wrong, and can’t believe how right it feels. Faith’s half expecting lightning to strike her dead right then and there for even so much as considering touching Buffy freaking Summers. There’s a cross on the wall behind her own head and a couple of nuns asleep three doors down for fuck’s sake. And then Buffy is kissing her. It’s close-mouthed and impossibly soft, just a gentle brush of Buffy’s lips against Faith’s own, but it’s still enough to make Faith believe in the existence of Heaven. Perhaps there’s something holy here after all. And if there isn’t? Faith tangles her hands in Buffy’s hair, kissing her back more firmly. If this is what descending into hell feels like, Faith hopes she gets to stay for all eternity. If hell is where they’re already headed, there’s nothing they can do about that now. So they may as well enjoy the fall.

Echo Fuffy fake marriage:

Summarized here. Snippet for you below:

Faith needs to move, to distract her mind from these dangerous thoughts because yeah, it is dangerous to want something she can never have, especially as desperately as she wants Buffy. She scoots around Buffy, tugging the door shut behind herself as she walks further into the room. The sound of the latch clicking into place helps hammer home that she and Buffy are now alone in this romantic place for newlyweds. This ‘sex room’ as Buffy called it. Faith flips on the lights as she passes the switch, saving them from the romantic lighting at least. It does help dull the atmosphere the staff tried to create, though only slightly. Buffy still hasn’t moved. “They think we’re going to have sex. They set this up for us to have sex in. All of this is for sex things to happen. Between us,” Buffy babbles. “Well, yeah, B,” Faith says easily, as if she weren't thinking the same thing (and feeling way less horrified about it). “That’s what people tend to do at places like this.”

Fuffy Hope in a bottle:

Buffy: hey whats up? It takes ten minutes, but she eventually gets a text back. Faith: that was the longest skating lesson ever. was starting to worry u fell through the ice Buffy: thats not even possible lol Buffy: also i didnt realize u were waiting for me Faith: i wasnt Her defensiveness only makes it seem like she really was waiting for Buffy, which is kind of weird. Maybe Faith’s some kind of friendless loser who was waiting by the phone for days for Buffy to text her back because the only person she has to talk to is Buffy.

Fuffy 2020:

Faith tries again, “Look, B—” “Faith, just drop it, okay? I’m not going back to your place. It really sucks being somewhere I’m obviously not wanted. You were right. I’m an adult, I’ll figure it out.” Faith chews on her lip, trying to decide how she can convince Buffy to come home with her. She can’t just let Buffy sleep in this park or a homeless shelter or something. Especially not in the middle of a freaking pandemic. She needs to—she could smack herself on the forehead, she can’t believe she’s being so stupid. Buffy literally told her what she needed to hear. “I missed you, too,” Faith blurts before she can talk herself out of saying it.

Gender wishverse:

My Buffy Summers is non-binary post will be posted eventually (after I finish writing it), my Wishverse!Buffy fuels my non-binary Buffy head canon meta post can be found here, and my previous answer about this fic can be found here, but since you asked, here is a little more info about this fic!

Originally I was planning to make this into a Faith/Buffy fic but that idea has been evolving. Honestly when I first started writing fic I was set on making everything Faith/Buffy, and even though I haven't been posting that long I've already changed my mindset on that haha. I like multiple ships so why not write them? And not everything I write needs to be ship-centric. We'll see where I end up once I actually start writing but currently I think this idea lives in my head as a Buffy and Anya friendship fic. My thoughts regarding Anya and gender are that she's over 1,00 years old and has certainly seen non-binary people before and would be so over the fact that people keep trying to erase them from history. Plus, Anya is aware of the Wishverse she's created. Two reasons for Buffy to reach out to Anya (even though she still kind of wants to be evil) and get some answers and help thinking through this :)

[infinitelytheheartexpands]

Henry VIII (La Monnaie De Munt, 2023): Reactions, Part III

annnnnnnnnnnnnnnnd we’re back!!!

REAL HORSEY!!!!!!!!!!

“you can’t just RIDE past me :/“

“i don’t wanna have rules”

“you’re the only one i truly love”

that music can almost make you fall for him…almost…

oh you almost got it

“hoe (@ henry) don’t do it”

UH OH

“literally right in the middle of my spicy times???”

“you don’t get to stop my spicy times either”

welp

“you wanna have a PILLOW FIGHT???”

“naughty papal officials go under the plastic”

that’s a loaded statement

“it’s been less than half a millennium i don’t think the roman catholic church wants to do that AGAIN”

the boys are fightinggggggggg

Area Old Man Has Fallen And Cannot Get Up

“hi god pls don’t excommunicate everyone in england just because this one guy wants to be a dick”

this is weird but this aria is GORG

i mean do whatever you want but like. eh. (also. GOOD low note)

the demon dancers are multiplying also this set and music are both beautiful

SYNOD SCENE TIME FUCK YEAH

(aka probably the world’s first celebrity divorce trial)

anyway happy trinity sunday to all who observe

“my job is to repeat everything the guy on the chair says”

“can you pls fucking stop talking about leviticus”

THE COURT STENOGRAPHER ON THE LEFT LMAO

YEAH SING IT CATHERINE

she’s winning the people over

one of those deluxe Romantic moments. you know the kind.

the way he sang this while looking at the still-clapping audience was like him telling them to stop clapping for catherine, which is both funny and smart

“if you break my bestie’s heart i WILL start a war”

✨xenophobia✨

sucks to be you henry 🤷‍♀️

the first time i watched this opera was in january 2021 and this scene UNCOMFORTABLY reminded me of january 6 and that’s still what i think about every time

having the religious officials turn into the people of england right there is kinda genius actually

and in that moment she realized she was screwed

that calm stenographer is really the mvp here

dude went BEYOND flipping over the board game he just made a new one altogether

girlie knows how to make an entrance

“oh you think i care?”

POOR CATHERINE DESERVES SO MUCH BETTER

celebrity divorce and celebrity wedding all in the span of about twenty minutes

YET ANOTHER STUNNING ACT-CLOSING ENSEMBLE

[glam-overdrive]

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