#recent chap everyone’s having Regrets and she’s like I was asleep

[milstrim]

Happy FFWF! 💛 What would you say are the top 3 scenes you've ever written? This can be for any story or drabble you've written for :)

Happy (late) FFWF!!!

oh wow uh idk hmmm

this is gonna get long so ill cut it

3) This one's whumpy but I like it

"Why do you even care? You're never around anyway," she muttered, bitter and spiteful.

Tony didn't flinch, "I'm never around, huh? I don't care? Well, excuse me if I have to leave to try and keep the world spinning, or because a certain group has threatened you again."

"I don't need you to protect me all the time!"

"Because you can lift a bus? Because you think you're some kind of invincible teenager who sneaks out knowing that the UN wants to arrest you. Knowing that there is a whole terrorist organization out for your blood. And you leave the tower anyway, using your powers as a party trick."

"They're not a party trick!" she protested heatedly. She wasn't a party trick.

"But you still went to that party. You ditched Happy and left your trackers and went to a party and got drunk apparently. How long were you lying about doing that little stunt? You can definitely keep a secret longer than I thought. Though you're a terrible liar."

Penny didn't say anything, the doubts the worries and the fears all unfolding before her. She'd tried so, so hard to be exactly what Tony expected of her. Of what everyone expected of her. She was smart in her classes. She was well behaved. She tried to be what Tony had been at her age; a prodigy. Even though she wasn't.

The few secrets she'd held close to her chest--some locked deep and hidden, never to see the light of day--had been the last of what felt like her life, before it had completely crumbled. Spider-Woman was the only thing that let her know she was important, that she was okay. If she could save other people, if she could make sure that others were okay, surely she must be okay too.

"Was it a dare? Or did you make that idiotic decision on your own? To get kidnapped and Happy hurt and Rhodey paralyzed and everyone else worried out of their minds." Her breath caught. Paralyzed. "Do you think that you can do this all on your own? That some radiation and spider experimentation means that you can do whatever you want, willy nilly?"

"I don't--"

"No, this is where you zip it, all right? The adult is talking. What if somebody had died tonight? What if Rhodey had? What if Phoenix had taken the weapons they'd wanted? Because I can assure you that they don't want them to make sure everyone holds hands. Different story, right? ‘Cause that’s on you. And if you died, that's on me," he paused, but she didn't notice the fear and the guilt, as though he were reliving the moment he spoke of. All she could think of was what she'd done. And about what she hadn't done, "I'm still waiting on the why. Why leave? Why lie? Why trust Natasha and not me?"

"I didn't tell her," Penny muttered, "She found out."

"And then you swore her to secrecy. You made her promise not to tell me, because...? Because you don't trust me? Is there anything that can make me trustworthy in your eyes? What the hell do you need, Penny!?"

"I need for my life to be normal again!" she spat, not even noticing as she sprung up onto her feet, her eyes watering as she yelled, "I need to not be a celebrity! I need to see my friends and feel free in my own home without people breathing down my neck all the time! I need my dad to be here when I feel like I'm dying or losing my mind, like May and Ben always used to!!!" Her voice broke, "I wish I was just a Parker again! I wish I wasn't your daughter!!!"

Tony flinched. Tears slipped down her cheeks. They stared at each other, tense silence that stretched in thick tension between them. A storm ready to break.

She'd already broken.

Without a word, the man stalked over to her. He didn't make eye contact with her, didn't say anything. He didn't even look at her. He brushed past Penny, grabbing the bright red suit sprawled on the hospital bed.

She didn't watch him as he did, staring straight ahead at the offending wall, her breaths gasping. She couldn't think. All she could feel was regret. Her hands trembled with it, her legs shaking in fear at her own words.

Her father walked past her again, the suit clutched in an angry fist. He left.

A sob tore from her throat.

2) This one will be spoilers for the next chap for my Ashes fic, but I figure its been so long ive got to throw some bread crumbs

Tony smiled at the thought, but it quickly disappeared when the teenager flinched, followed by a guttural whine. Nightmares, he guessed.

As he was pondering what to do, his muggy mind failing him, he caught sight of a familiar matted figure. His eyes lit up at the sight of Platty sitting on top of the white hospital blanket. Moving without thinking, he reached out for it, tucking the stuffed animal up to Penny's collar. He followed the action by hugging her closer to him and pressing a kiss to her forehead.

She didn't flinch again, but the twitching and whimpering continued. He tried his best to urge her past whatever nightmares were tormenting her, rubbing soothing circles into her back and peppering kisses onto her hairline whenever there was a pained murmur.

It took a few minutes, but, finally, Penny stilled. Tony wasn't sure whether it had been his comfort or if the nightmare had simply run its course, but he couldn't find the energy to understand which. With the danger of Penny's pain gone, his eyes began to droop again, dark eyes slipping until he was consumed by slight snores.

The two were stuck in the motion of instinctual comfort. A teenager tucked against her dad's side, her cheek draped against his shoulder. A man's head curled into his daughter's hairline, asleep mid-comforting kiss. Between them, a yellow stuffed animal buoyed warmth and familiarity.

1) I just love this scene. ive very rarely ended fics so far and i loved trying it out (*￣3￣)╭

"Boss, Mr. Parker is back."

Tony glanced up from where he was working in the lab, looking away from his newest project to smile brightly at the ceiling. He stood up, wiping his oily hands off on his equally oily pants, finally conceding to grab a cloth and rub the slick grease from his fingers. The mechanic gave the new project one last glance before throwing the cloth down on the nearest table and stepping toward the elevator.

"Great. Tell him I'm on my--"

Knock! Knock! Knock!

Tony turned, a confused expression turning into a small smile as he caught sight of the red and blue figure stuck on the window, waving at the mechanic in excitement. He rolled his eyes, walking over and undoing the latch on the window to let the teenager finally at a healthy weight roll into the room.

"I'm gonna start putting bug spray around the apartment until you learn to use a door," Tony warned. Peter pulled his mask off, revealing hair pulled down by sweat and a bright smile. They grew brighter and brighter every day. The teenager rammed a shoulder into Tony's playfully.

"Why can't a window be a door?"

"Because it's a window."

"Old houses in the south used to be able to transform between windows and doors to evade taxes."

Tony considered him. "How do you know this?"

"Decathlon."

Tony rolled his eyes, unsure of how he hadn't guessed that. He was going to the kid's competition next week for heaven's sake!

"Well, this is not the old south. We use doors here."

"That's less fun."

"Yeah, yeah. Go wash up for dinner."

"But it's barely five! I was going to go out again."

"Should've thought about that earlier," Tony teased. "It's family dinner night. And don't you have an essay due?"

Peter mumbled, but listened nonetheless, beginning to pad away towards the elevator to go up to their apartment suite, when there was the ringing of an oncoming call. Both of their heads turned as a screen popped up, displaying an unknown number, untraceable too. Tony and Peter exchanged raised eyebrows as the kid walked back over.

"What is this, Fri?"

"It is an incoming call from the phone Captain Rogers sent you."

Peter glanced between him and the screen warily. "That means there's a problem, doesn't it?"

"Probably," Tony admitted.

He turned to the kid, patting the kid's back and fixing him with a steady stare. Peter's doe eyes attached to his, trusting in a way that had been growing exponentially recently. Tony hadn't known it was possible to look at someone with that much trust. That much love. Especially from a kid whose first interaction with Tony had ended up in him running away, but life had become steadily calm, steadily trusting, as the days had gone by. As the months had. A few bumps in the road and a couple of mishaps, some bigger than others along the way, but good nonetheless. Yeah, life was good.

Tony liked to think he was right most of the time, but even he knew he was pretty hit or miss on how to remain any kind of relationship. But this--Tony knew he'd been right. His purpose was to protect Peter. And he loved every second of it.

"But if it is, I'll keep you safe. We'll fix it together."

Peter's lips tugged in a trusting smile. He held out a fist. "Together. MacaTony--"

Tony returned the fist bump lightly with a roll of his eyes, grinning as he caught sight of their shadows switching, "--And Peter-butter."

Whatever Steve was calling for, neither would be going in alone. They were never alone.

Their shadows made sure of it.

[welcometocaritas]

‘if you love me, don’t let go...’

First chapter of my yumagna fic is out ladies and gentlebabies! 

Chapter: 1/6

Characters: Yumiko & Magna

Pairing: Yumagna

Fandom: The Walking Dead

Format: Multi-Chap

Summary:  At some point, you just have to let go - or so Yumiko keeps telling herself.There was never any letting go of Magna.

Links: A03, FF.NET

[watermark is from my instagram yumagnas.home don’t worry i didn’t steal the pic ;)]

 A/N: 

[The rape/non-con is there for Magna's cousin and it will only ever be in references I will not be writing anything detailed about it because I don't want to trigger anyone and this isn't the story for writing about something like that as I would not be able to give it the time and attention it deserves]

Small note: Magna's cousin is called Maisie in this and I've also given her a brother called Morgan.

y'all are going to hate me because yes, this is going to be over 20000 words about a single night. And probably not even the whole night. but there's also flashbacks so it's OK? In my defense, we've gotten very few conversations with these two so there was a lot to talk about. I can't be held responsible for my actions. blame the writers.

I’m honestly a little worried that I’m going to bore people to tears because there’s really no plot. It’s just yumagna being soft and finally sorting out their shit.

I'm also working on a short oneshot - for real this time it's actually going to be short - that's set in the indeterminate future after this. It's basically just going to be pure fluff which you should knew is unheard of - I never write fluff. So hopefully it's not terrible.

There be angst here, lots of angst, but also comfort - if you’re familiar with my writing that won’t be a surprise to you.

I don’t have much hope for canon so I decided to do what I could to fix the mess they made.

I normally wouldn’t reveal anything that’s going to happen in a fic but y’all have been tortured enough already so just know I will absolutely be getting these girls back together, it won’t take more than a night, but it will take about 20000 words. Most of the story is written out already I’m just doing post-edits so I’ll update daily :)

If things seem a little disjointed it’s because I wrote everything out of order and it’s been a bit of a struggle to get everything to fit into place. I also haven’t slept more than 1-4 hours a night for the past three weeks, have been getting constant migraines and blood sugar crashes so I’m gonna apologize right now if there are any mistakes. I’m super sorry.

This is for the yumagna fandom cos I wanted y'all to have something nice with everything that's going on. I would also like to give a special thanks to Abbey and Mina who acted as my sounding board throughout this whole thing and were very patient with me - love you guys :)

....

"If you love me, don't let go

Hold

Hold on

Hold on to me

'Cause I'm a little unsteady

A little unsteady . . . "

- Unsteady by X Ambassadors

. . .

Nightmares had always been an issue, though less so in recent years. Magna had gotten almost gotten used to having a full night's sleep, barring the occasional pillow snatch. Back before all this started, she'd been on medication for PTSD, but well, it was kind of hard to fill a prescription in the middle of the apocalypse - and, well, the apocalypse had only added to the previous need for said medication. At least she was in good company. These days, it was more of a surprise if someone wasn't experiencing some form of post-traumatic stress, and that was a somewhat odd reality to wake up in, day after day. For years, this thing had set her apart but now? Now it just made her like everyone else.

Miko had nightmares too.

It was what had led to them sharing a 'bed' in the first place, way before things between them moved beyond the confines of friendship. They'd fallen asleep by the fire one particularly cold night, curled around each other for warmth, and they hadn't awoken until morning.

It had been something of a revelation.

On Magna's end, she suspected it had had a lot to do with trust. She'd trusted Miko not to shove a shiv into her side or try to cop a feel whilst she slept, trusted her even more to have her back if things went south during the night. She'd been . . . safe. Magna wasn't used to people being safe - she wasn't quite sure what she offered Miko in return, though; maybe the same thing.

Of course, in many ways Yumiko wasn't safe. There was nothing safe about the way Magna felt about her. Or the way those feelings seemed to be returned. She knew Miko had had a girlfriend in college who cheated - and when the other woman had told her that, a vindictive part of her had hoped the bitch had been one of the many, many people to meet their end by sicko teeth. Miko had smacked her on the arm for that comment, exasperation tempered by fondness and reluctant amusement.

She'd realized in her time away, that this past hurt would have only sharpened Magna's betrayal. Trust was important to Miko - hell, it was important to Magna - and she had broken hers by lying, lying for years. She hadn't thought of it that way when she'd been doing it. The secret had weighed on her, yes, but she'd been viewing it from a place of hadn't really considered how it would hurt Miko, only what it would do to their relationship if it had ever come out, what it would do to her.

That, more than anything, had made her realize that Miko had been right to kick her out. More than right.

Which is why she could hardly believe that they were here now. That Miko was letting her head rest in her lap, that she had invited her to do so. Sitting back against a tree and patting her thigh with a small smile her way when Magna had gone to settle a short distance off. The way she had nearly fallen over herself to accept that invitation was almost embarrassing but she couldn't bring herself to feel self-conscious about it, or to second guess the action. They'd done this as friends too and she was glad it wasn't something she had sacrificed with their relationship.

She'd been attracted to Yumiko from the moment they met. It was hard not to be. She wasn't blind - hot lawyer lady in a suit, how could she not notice her in that way? The woman had entered into her dilapidated life with a sureness and determination that was hard to dismiss. Intelligent, strong, and fighting for her.

No one had ever fought for Magna. Not until Miko.

(really, she'd been screwed from the start)

Of course, the person Yumiko was fighting for was little more than an illusion. If Miko had only known the truth then . . .

She probably would have dropped her like a hot potato, just like everybody else. She probably would have been wise to.

Or maybe she wasn't giving Miko enough credit. After all, she was still here now. Carding her hand through Magna's hair in a soothing motion as she pretended to sleep - and Miko pretended to believe her. She knew the truth now, and still she kept close. Maybe they weren't together anymore but that had been as much Magna's choice as Miko's. She couldn't let herself get to that place again, where she was so terrified of losing something, she ended up destroying it.

  And God, Magna was so tired, so tired of being afraid, so tired of being angry.

Just so tired.

('I can't do this anymore.')

She needed a distance between them, even if she didn't want it. Romantic relationships had a tendency to blow up in her face. But friendships . . . well, they tended to be more reliable. After all, she had been friends with Miko for years and things only turned sour after they had crossed over the safety of that border into something more.

(things turned sour because you couldn't stand keeping it a secret from her anymore. The same thing would have happened if you'd still been only friends)

She shifted uncomfortably, remembering at the last second that she was supposed to be asleep. But Miko only stilled a moment before continuing with her motions, allowing the deception to maintain itself.

The relief passed her lips in a shaky exhale.

Magna couldn't bring herself to talk anymore. She was drained - both emotionally and physically - and the thought of pulling any more words out almost made her cry from exhaustion. And Miko seemed to sense that, almost as soon as Magna had first fallen silent. But then, she'd always been good at reading her.

She was observant. Like Connie.

Squeezing her eyes shut tighter, she immediately regretted the action. In the darkness, all she saw was her friend's face, disappearing into the crowd of sickos, possibly never to be seen again. Of course, Magna hadn't seen that at all. She'd kept her gaze ahead, too wary to look around and give away the disguise, but she had felt Connie's hand slip from hers, the ache of the empty space it left behind. Her imagination filled in the blanks now, even adding in a few colorful extras - wide eyes, a silent scream, falling beneath the weight of too many bodies, torn apart. Gone.

So many people were just . . . gone.

"Do you think she survived?" The words hung in the night air; foreign, distant. Magna blinked, unsure if they'd really come from her. She couldn't remember opening her mouth. But her tongue felt thick and heavy, her lips cracked, she could taste the metallic hint of blood caused by the effort.

Miko paused. Just a second, her fingers tangling in Magna's hair a little too tight, almost painful, then a breath, and she returned to smoothing it back. "You did."

"Barely. I was lucky."

"And there's no reason she won't be, too. Connie's smart, strong. She could make it."

Magna could think of a hundred reasons. A thousand.

Her stomach turned and she closed her eyes, opening them in a snap when Connie's face answered her. She trembled. "I should have stopped. I should have looked for her."

Miko didn't hesitate. "Then you'd be dead. Might even have gotten her killed as well. All for nothing."

At least, I wouldn 't be feeling like this.

Magna opened her mouth to argue but found that she didn't have the strength. She closed her eyes again, inhaling the scent of the woods, of the leaves and dirt beneath their bodies, of Miko. Especially Miko. "What the hell am I going to say to Kelly?"

If she wasn't dead.

What if they were the only ones left? Her and Miko. Bernie gone. Connie gone. Kelly gone. Luke gone. She'd failed to protect them. All of them.

And she'd thought she'd cried enough tears but her eyes burned and she rubbed at them fiercely, like there was dirt, like if she could just get it out the fire would vanish and she wouldn't crumble to ashes in its grip.

And there was Miko's voice, all at once gentle and firm, pulling her back. "She won't blame you. She knows you. You've always fought hard for us. As hard as you can. This just wasn't a situation in which you could."

Magna nearly scoffed.

No, she could have fought. But she'd gotten scared. She'd hesitated. She hated being fucking scared (small and shaking, hugging Morgan to her chest as Daddy's voice got loud, so loud, why was it so loud?). It was such a useless emotion. And now it had probably gotten Connie killed.

Miko tugged at her hair slightly, gentle but scolding. "Seriously, Magna. You couldn't have done anything. If anyone should be feeling guilty it's me."

Frowning, she turned her head in her grip to look up, a strand of hair snagged but she didn't mind the pain. "What are you talking about?"

But Miko shook her head, refusing to meet her gaze as she focused on raking her hands through Magna's hair, avoiding the knots with an ease born of years of practice. "I should have been there with you. I shouldn't have stayed behind that day."

And then you might be dead, too. Magna shuddered at the thought. Her worst fear, worse than Miko choosing to leave her, being taken from her. Forever.

And it wasn't even a what-if situation. It felt inevitable. This was the apocalypse: their expiration dates were always inching closer.

"I'm glad you did." Even though Magna couldn't see her face, she sensed her hurt, felt the flinch of her hand. "I couldn't lose you. Not like that."

Giving up on getting Miko to look at her, she settled back in her lap but kept her eyes open.

Yumiko's voice was caustic when she responded, fragile and harsh all at once. "I thought I lost you." The hand resumed its stroking, stiffer now, almost angry. "At least if I had been there I could have helped, and I would have known. I would have known if you were okay."

Not if you got out with Kelly.

But, no, Miko wouldn't have left them, wouldn't have left her. She would have seen her double back with Connie and gone after her too - like Magna, she was always watching. Maybe she would even have noticed and gone after Connie first - she was equally as protective of their group - and then Magna would have been the one left behind, to wonder, to fear.

Thinking about it, that probably would have driven her to punch Carol, too. Though her fuse had always been a lot shorter than Miko's.

Now, she snorted at the sudden memory. "I can't believe you punched Carol. I've never seen you like that." In a way, it had scared her. She was so used to Miko being the calm one, forever in control. She was the one who reined Magna in.

Okay, it had also been kind of hot. Even half-dead on her feet, she couldn't fail to notice that.

"To be honest, neither can I." There was a wry note to the older woman's tone, and Magna wondered if she was smiling, almost risked looking up again to find out. "I don't regret it, if that's what you're wondering."

"Not like you to kick a dog when it's down."

"Not like you to be so forgiving."

She scoffed. "I'm not. Connie's gone. Probably dead and she-" Magna swallowed, collecting herself. "I'm not forgiving. I just don't have the energy to be angry anymore."

"Well that's definitely not like you." Miko teased, hesitating for a moment before severity bled back into her tone. "Are you going to be okay?"

She closed her eyes, sighed. Why was she so good? "You don't have to worry about me, Miko."

Scoff. "Another lie. I found a grey hair the other day, thanks to you."

"Oh and it couldn't have possibly been the literal end of days that we're stuck in?"

"Have you met you?" Another tug at her hair, this time playful and, for a moment, Magna could breathe easier. "Seriously, though, are you going to be okay?"

For a moment.

She shifted, hair pulling painfully but that was almost welcome. "I'll be fine. I'll be a lot better once we find Kelly and Luke."

"And Connie."

"And Connie." She wished she could feel more hopeful on that front. Miko squeezed her shoulder and she relaxed slightly, trying to push the dark thoughts away for now. There'd been too many of them tonight already. There were always too many. But just for tonight she wanted to escape them, to hide away in Miko's lap and absorb every touch, every smell, every word . . . that she had come so close to never experiencing again.

. . .

"How can you lose me? You've owned me from the first moment I saw you."

― Dianna Hardy, Cry Of The Wolf

. . .

The full gravity of the world ending fell upon Yumiko within a matter of hours, there'd been no time to trivialize or hope. Right from the start, she'd felt the impact.

Her mother had been a doctor in the old world and she'd been working a shift at the hospital when the outbreak hit the city and surrounding areas. Yumiko's stomach still turned at the memory of calling her up from the safety of Magna's apartment, her eyes trained on the insanity playing out across every news station, her heart pounding as she pleaded, pleaded for the other woman to pick up, to be alright, to-

But the phone had rung and rung. One, two, twelve phone calls later and nothing.

----

Unable to sit and wait any longer, Yumiko swiped her abandoned keys off the table and marched towards the door, ready to drive over there right that second and  make  her mother okay. She was smart, her mother was smart, and resourceful, and she'd never stopped practicing krav maga - and Yumiko would definitely come to regret refusing all those classes the woman had tried to get her to enroll in growing up but she 'd been focused on her books and her studies and all her dreams for a future that fighting never entered into-

Her mother would be  fine .

But a hand grabbed hers - strong, nails almost biting into her skin - and pulled her back. "You can't go out there."

Magna.

At some point, she 'd forgotten the other woman was even there, just whose home she stood barricaded within.

"I have to get to the hospital, my mother she-"

"Yumiko, you saw the news - hell, you just almost got your face bitten off by one of those sickos - the world's fucking lost it. " Her face took on an expression of incredulity. "And you want to go to the fucking hospital? No, no way."

Yumiko clenched her jaw, trying not to snap. "She's my mother. I  need  to make sure she's okay."

"I know, OK? Trust me I get it but . . ." she took a breath, frustrated and Yumiko could detect an air of desperation in the way she closed her eyes, pressed her lips together. "But you just, you can't, okay? They said that part of the city is already overrun and it's a  hospital . The amount of people in there,  dying  people . . . it's a death trap."

Yumiko looked away, knowing she was right but unwilling to face it. It was her  mother .

For a spiteful moment, she wondered whether Magna really did  'get it'. As far as she knew, the other woman hadn't visited her own mother since she was a child. Yumiko didn't even know if she was still alive - or if Magna knew for that matter.

"Look, I . . . " Magna shook her head. "If I thought that it could work, that we'd be able to help, hell even be able to get  in  there, I would drive you myself."

"You don't have a license." She wasn 't sure why she said it, why out of all the things Magna was saying,  that  had stuck out the most. But it was the only thing she had the means to protest.

Magna huffed. "Fine, I'd let you drive but that-that's not the point. Miko, we don't even know how to kill these things. I stabbed that guy in the neck and he barely even flinched. The dead are eating people, I can't . . ." She shook her head, lost for words. "I can't protect you from that."

Yumiko cursed the way those words made her stomach flip -  not  the time. Her phone felt heavy in her pocket, useless, and her mind was a violent hellscape, tossing up image after image of all the situations that could be keeping her mother from answering but . . .

Fuck it.

She was right.

The world shook for a moment, shaky legs almost falling out from under her as she allowed herself to sink down onto the floor, hiding her head in her hands.  She was right . The darkness made everything still and she could imagine for a moment that this wasn't really happening, that it was just some big nightmare, that-

People were fucking  eating  people, for god's sakes.  Dead  people. How  could  this be real?

There was a pause, the sound of shuffling, and she felt a stiff form settle down beside her. Hesitantly, an arm came around her, too lose, too distant, but there. "I'm sorry."

Yumiko shook her head, forgetting entirely Magna's discomfort when it came to any kind of physical intimacy - hell, any kind of intimacy in general - and allowed herself to collapse. Falling into her, she buried her head in the other woman's chest, hands coming up to latch onto the fabric of her shirt, desperate for something, anything to hold onto.

Magna flinched and her body became like a rock, rebelling at every place of contact between them.

Remembering herself, Yumiko moved to withdraw, "Shit, sorry, I-" but the arm around her tightened, keeping her in place. Slowly, she felt the muscles against her force themselves to relax as that arm found a surer purchase, pulling her closer. After a moment, she felt the slight weight of a chin coming to rest on her head, a hand coming up to find one of hers. Disentangling Yumiko 's almost rabid hold, they wrapped around her and squeezed, held tight and this-

This was better.

"Stay."

She did.

. . .

"I am your friend. a soul for your soul. a place for your life. home. know this. sun or water. here or away. we are a lighthouse. we leave. and we stay."

― Nayyirah Waheed

. . .

Magna knew that Miko's upbringing had been a fair bit more stable than hers. Parents divorced at nine, yes, but that was terribly common wasn't it? (and neither of them had tried to shoot the other.) She'd graduated at the top of her class, whilst Magna had been kicked out of three schools for fighting before her aunt and uncle had given up and stopped sending her. It wasn't a huge loss. The only classes she'd been doing well in were art and P.E. And whilst she had missed those it was a relief to get away from the taunting students and judgmental teachers.

Considering her criminal record that kept her from working at anything other than a seedy truck stop with its overly handsy customers, that had probably worked out for the best. Good grades wouldn't have been of any help to her by then.

She still laughed sometimes at the memory of Miko popping by on her shifts, how out of place she'd looked, sitting on a rickety stool behind the counter whilst Magna tended customers, still dressed in a suit from work that never seemed to wrinkle.

The pair of them had garnered more than a few looks.

But Miko had been at ease with it, picking at her fries - the only food on the menu that would probably pass a health inspection - making small talk, interjecting with the occasional complaint about Jerry, the company vulture, who kept trying to steal her clients. Magna had been confused by the attention, wary even. She'd wondered if the lawyer checked up on all her former clients like this, or if she was just a special case. She hadn't asked - she hadn't wanted to know the answer, to face the inevitable 'yes'.

A part of her had wanted to scare her off, had hated the way she got instantly on edge as soon as she saw Miko's form enter in the door, the way she felt even worse when she watched her leave out it. But another, more secret part, had been starved for company; the kind that didn't make her want to punch someone, anyway. So she'd held her tongue, and slowly let down her defenses.

Until one night, a trucker had gone to bite a chunk out of Miko's face.

It had been her turn to work the truck stop diner connected to the store, and Yumiko had been leaning against the counter, nursing a cup of too-sweet hot chocolate and conversing with her between customers. She'd just glanced down at her phone after hearing a ping and Magna had looked up at the sound, glimpsed the man lumbering closer, closer - too close.

She'd never been so glad of the quick reflexes life had beaten into her, because in that moment she hadn't needed to think. She'd shoved Miko back, a little too forcefully since she ended up hitting the ground with a smack that made Magna wince - but it was enough.

Her hand had been grabbing the knife from beneath the bench before she even registered, her arm jolting with the shock of sinking it into flesh that gave way too easily as she leapt across the counter, blood spattering against her face in a terrible sort of deja vu, her stomach turning - fuck fuck fuck - but he didn't fall, didn't scream; and then she'd grabbed Miko, tugged her up and ran, ears howling with the sound of all hell breaking loose around them. The police sirens in her head hadn't been real, she'd known they weren't, they couldn't be, not this soon, but her heart pounded in her chest from more than just adrenaline and fuck-

She'd done it again.

And just when she was finally starting to get used to freedom.

She hadn't realized until later that night, hauled up in her apartment - it had been closest and neither of them had really wanted to be alone after that - and watching the actual End of Days unfold on international television, that it had been the first time they'd touched. Magna had always kept a certain level of distance and Miko had never tried to cross it. Not until later that night, when Magna had reached out to stop her from leaving, when she'd collapsed into her arms with an ease that made Magna want to run out the door instead . . . and later when Miko grabbed her hand as she was heading to bed. It was just a moment, just a brief squeeze accompanied by a weak but grateful smile - but Magna had felt her heart try to escape her chest at that smile, at that touch . . .

It had just been a push. Barely anything compared to getting someone out of jail at least twelve years - though more likely an entire lifetime - earlier than expected. Especially when she still hadn't known that the person she'd been fighting so hard to free wasn't nearly as innocent as she'd assumed.

Somehow, the most surprising event of the night, was that Magna hadn't minded the touch, hadn't pulled away. More shocking, she'd missed it when it was gone; had felt empty each time Miko left her grasp, yearning to reach out and-

And that was when Magna had known she was screwed.

Miko told her that she'd known the same thing sometime around the third day of planning their trial strategy.

Thirteen years later and they were still pretty screwed.

. . .

"I've spent much too long in the space between staying and letting go."

- Perry Poetry

 . . .

A/N: So this story has turned out to be a lot more Magna-centric then intended and that's not because I love Yumiko any less, I just find it easier to get inside the heads of characters like Magna. I'm used to writing somewhat dysfunctional people with more than a bit of trauma (probably cos I have a bit of trauma of my own lol). You know, the loveable walking disasters of the world. She might come off a bit ooc in this and that's partly because I'm still familiarizing myself with writing her and because she's a tad bit fragile after everything that's happened, which i think we all saw in last episode - Miko is also feeling pretty fragile for the same reason. Speaking of which. What. The. Fuck. It makes zero sense to me that these two would make up but still not get back together and I'm gonna sue the writers for torture if this keeps going on. So I had to write a fix-it fic. And I also felt like there was a lot these two still needed to talk about that I'm not entirely confident the show will ever address so voila a fic was made.

Also, just gonna note going forth that Magna’s own feelings about herself aren’t necessarily a reflection of my own feelings about her character. Girl’s got some insecurities to sort through. Likewise, her judgments - good and bad - about Yumiko aren’t necessarily true, either, for the same reason. It’s one of the causes for conflict in their relationship.

So there are probably two ways to look at how these two might have noticed they had feelings for each other: a) these two idiots have been in love for 13 years and were both too chicken and oblivious to do do anything about it, or b) their love developed slowly from the bonds of friendship over a very long time. I like both options but I decided to go with the former for this fic.

The series titles is from the song You by Keaton Henson. If you're familiar with the song - my Lost Girl buddies will be - don't worry nobody is going to die! that line just really fits them so much, and it's also about accepting the fact that you might lose the one you love but that doesn't mean you should be afraid of loving them or living your life.

. . .

OK, just gonna do a little shameless self-promotion, hope you don't mind :)

I made a yumagna vid so if you haven't seen it already and you're interested it's here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=grzrpr0QZEE (I'm gonna do more so if you want to stay in the loop subscribe to my youtube channel. I'll probs end up doing a short one for Unsteady because of this fic but I'm holding out till we get a yumagna hug)

I have an insta for yumagna called @yumagnas.home . my multifandom one is @bonnielextra (lots of awesome women that i make edits for just fyi) and my personal one is @cissyalice. Hit me up so I can follow some more yumagna stans!

My twitter is @bonnielextra and @welcometocaritas (for my edits). Currently just a lot of crying about yumagna on the first one.

And my tumblr is welcometocaritas. Obviously no pressure to look at any of these but I just thought I'd put them in just case :)

[lefaystrent]

Dog Days

Fandom: Thomas Sanders, Sanders Sides

Pairings: platonic LAMP/Thomas, borrower!sides

Summary: “Hey, I need you to look at me so I know you can hear me. Can you do that for me kiddo?” 

The voice was kind, and patient, and all the things Thomas thought he could ignore. But without much thought, he turned his head a bit to seek out the voice’s owner. A small figure stood there on the carpet, small enough to be mistaken for a doll but moving too much to not be sentient.

(Alternatively, in the midst of grieving for his beloved pet, comfort comes to Thomas in a curiously small form.)

Notes: Because I really needed another multi-chap fic . . . I plan to add a few more parts to it. Fingers crossed!

WARNINGS: pet death, in-depth descriptions of grief

AO3 Link

Everyone who knew Thomas knew how much he adored his dog. He’d had the border collie for a couple of years now, treated her like she was his own child, always spoiling her with treats, toys, and belly rubs. It made living alone in his small apartment a lot more bearable, to come home to her happy jumping and demands to be pet.

She took up a lot of attention in his life; that’s why he noticed that lately she seemed less energetic. She slept more, ate less, and her long fur couldn’t hide the weight loss. The day she didn’t get up to greet Thomas at the door when he returned home, he knew there was something deeply wrong.

“Everything’s going to be okay,” he told her as he loaded her into the car. She could sense his stress and whimpered.

He almost regretted taking her to the vet. Almost, because even if he could have lived in ignorance longer, it didn’t make the truth go away.

Thomas remembered standing by his beloved pet, stroking a hand down her back absently as the vet spoke to him, voice matter-of-fact. The words passed through him, only a few batting back and forth in his brain like some sick version of ping pong.

“Liver isn’t processing . . . birth defect . . . there’s nothing you could have done.”

He took her home that day and settled her on her pet bed in the living room. He laid down beside her for the longest time, fingers brushing lightly at her ears.

“You’re okay,” he whispered to her. “You’re okay, sweetie.”

They still had a few days. A few days before he needed to . . .

They still had a few days.

When Thomas came home today, it wasn’t to the sound of paws scampering down the hallway. The apartment was dark, the light from the microwave clock shining like a beacon. Thomas barely had the presence of mind to toss his keys on the breakfast bar. He didn’t turn on any lights or open the blinds. He navigated through the blackened rooms and found himself lying in the floor by the pet bed again, using the cushion as a pillow and letting thoughts rush through his head. 

He thought about rust-colored fur and eyes of calming honey.

He thought about if she had known in the end, if she had hated him for it.

He thought about begging for forgiveness.

But he had no words left.

So he closed his eyes and pretended he wasn’t alone.

Days went by. 

Thomas didn’t try to work. He didn’t try to pretend he was okay.

His friends called. Some stopped by. But when finding him unresponsive, they figured he needed time and left him be.

He spent most of his time laying by the pet bed. It was too much effort to climb the stairs, so he didn’t. He didn’t mind sleeping in the floor.

A blur. Time narrowed down to a blur, and Thomas happily lost himself in it. He forgot to shower. He forgot to eat. He forgot what the point of it all was.

“Hey there,” a voice broke through the blur. 

Once again, Thomas was curled up on the floor. His eyes were open, but they weren’t comprehending much of anything. He blinked sluggishly, tired no matter how much he’d been sleeping recently.

“Kiddo?”

Or maybe he was half-asleep and couldn’t tell reality from dream anymore. He lived alone. No one should be there. No one . . .

“Hey, I need you to look at me so I know you can hear me. Can you do that for me kiddo?”

The voice was kind, and patient, and all the things Thomas thought he could ignore. But without much thought, he turned his head a bit to seek out the voice’s owner. A small figure stood there on the carpet, small enough to be mistaken for a doll but moving too much to not be sentient. Thomas blinked at him, estimating him to be four inches tall. He’d never met a person so tiny—never thought they existed outside of fairy tales—and for some reason it didn’t bother him at all.

The small man smiled a smile that was friendly, if not a bit strained. His hands were clasped together tightly. “There you go,” he said to Thomas. “I was a bit worried there. You haven’t gotten up in a long time. When’s the last time you’ve had some water?”

Thomas didn’t answer. He thought about answering, but he didn’t know himself. If he really took a moment, he’d probably realize how parched his mouth felt. But it was hard to feel much of anything these days.

The man twiddled his fingers. He glanced around for a minute before daring to take a few steps closer. If Thomas wanted to, he could reach out and pick him up.

"Better yet, when’s the last time you ate anything?” he asked.

It was weird, because more than wondering where the small man came from, Thomas was confused as to why he cared. Why did it matter if he hadn’t eaten anything? Was it really that big a deal?

“Kiddo, you need to eat something,” he said gently.

“Why?” Thomas croaked out, voice cracking roughly on the word. The man jumped a little, not expecting Thomas to answer. Even Thomas didn’t expect himself to answer. It just sort of happened.

His eyes warmed in sympathy. “Thomas . . . you’ll die if you don’t.”

Thomas wondered if this guy had any idea. He wondered if he knew what it was like, to care for something with all your heart, to be responsible for their life and happiness.

To fail them utterly.

“I don’t care,” Thomas said, eyes watering briefly. The ache in his chest spread out to encompass him entirely, and for a second he felt like he couldn’t breathe. And for another second, he didn’t feel like he deserved to.

“Oh honey,” the man fretted, inching closer but unable to do anything. “I know you loved her. I know you tried. But she—”

“She’s gone,” Thomas cut him off, looking him in the eyes. “She’s gone.”

And nothing would change that.

No amount of words. No amount of hours spent lying on the floor. No amount of tears he shed.

Nothing.

Thomas curled in on himself, burying his face in the safety of arms. He yearned for the blurriness to come back, to live his days in a haze until the ache didn’t make him hate himself anymore.

He thought the small man had given up. He didn’t hear anything for a long while. But after some time, he felt a tentative touch on his wrist.

“You’re still here,” the voice said. “You’re still here, Thomas. That might not matter to you, but I promise it would matter to her.”

Several minutes passed before Thomas found the strength to look up. The man was gone by then, but beside the pet bed he found a single saltine cracker waiting to be eaten.

Thomas didn’t cry when the vet put down his dog. He didn’t cry when he came home or when he buried her or during the lonely days he spent drifting through the apartment. He didn’t cry in all that time, believing he had forgotten how to.

But somehow, this small act of kindness cracked the walls of grief.

And when they broke, he wailed.

Tag list: @spectralheartt @a-pastel-pan @notalwaysthevillian @rose-gold-roman @ijustrealizedhowdumbmynamewas @katie-the-noble-fangirl @yourroyalydramaticanxiousness @aroundofapplesauce @merlybird500 @beach-fan @jemthebookworm  @whats-going-on-kiddos @randomsandersides @gamerfreddie @unring-this-bell @that-royal-ravenclaw (let me know if you want to be added or removed from this story’s tag list)

[greenflamedwriter]

Fea, Stray Knight | Chap Six

Lance

Lance sat on his bed hugging a pillow to his chest as Keith ranted away, pacing back and forth burning a hole in his carpet while he was at it.

“He was like me- I Thought if anyone knew what I was going through he would understand? But I didn’t get any answers I put both of our lives in danger.”

Keith sounded frustrated mostly at himself but he was also pissed at Shiro, I mean who wouldn’t be? Lance listened silently then shrugged “Well screaming at the walls isn’t going to help.”

Keith paused and stared at Lance opening his mouth to snap back then paused at the sight of Lance’s face.

And the two crescent moon scars on his cheekbones. They were faint but Keith could still see them. Keith sat on the bed beside him and outstretched his hand placing it upon Lance’s cheek, there was a small indent of the cresent moon marks upon closer inspection, Keith looked regretful “Oh god, I am so sorry for what happened today- if I’d knew-” Lance cut him off placing his hand on his “Hey I’m fine, okay- not dead yet.” He spoke softly and Keith mouth twitched into a smile.

They both froze at the position they held, it felt charged with something. Keith moved away first before Lance could even begin to wonder what just happened.

“Okay, so what were your questions, we’ll start from there.” Lance coughed out trying to change topics.

Keith blinked then groaned looking away “Well, why was I a changeling? Did my parents not want me or was I sick or something... what court were they part off? why did Shiro know me in foster care.” Keith placed a hand over his face “It doesn’t make any sense.”

Lance was staring at him intently “Well, we found out one thing, Charm speak? Where a Fea causes compulsion to make a human do as they say.” Keith raised an eyebrow “Allura did that to you, we didn’t learn that from shiro.” Lance pursed his lips.

“She did? i thought she was aggressively flirting.” Keith wished he could slap the dopey look on Lance’s face.

“She sat on you.” Lance smirk grew sultry “She can sit on me any-”

-Keith smacked him with a pillow cutting off that nasty train if thought.

“Ow- okay I’ll allow that. Oh wait,” Lance suddenly slid of the bed and began to dig under his bed and Keith tensed waiting get hit with a book, a scrapbook was not what he was expecting but he braced for inpact.

Lance flicking through confused him to frown.

“What’re you doing?” Lance sat back on the bed.

“My grandmother made this, I think she was trying to write a story about Fearies or sonethong, thats why I remembered it.” Lance said suddenly as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Keith raised an eyebrow “You had this here the whole time?”

Lance ignored Keiths sour fave and instead placed his finger lightly beside the page “I…Forgot, I think when she passed away, I avoided things like this. Because they reminded me of her.”

Keith have a sharp intake of breath “Lance- I’m so sorry,”

“Its fine, anyway I think changeling is in here somewhere.” Hopefully Keith would take the hint to change topics, fortunately he did and scooted over to sit beside him.

The next morning pebbles tittered the window, Keith who was a light sleeper woke up instantly and inspected it, he gaped at the dark cloaked figure in the garden looking up at him.

He gaped to see Shiro waving like a puppy, Keith opened up the window and popped his head outside and hissed sharply “What are you doing here!?” Shiro blinked “Keith?”

Keith wondered why Shiro was staring until he realised he was still purple, and if anyone could turn him back…

He glanced at Lance sleeping on his bed and bit his lip, Lance forgive me.

He turned back to Shiro waiting outside, looking awkward, “Wait there-” He reached blindly and then grabbed a black hoodie hanging of the back of a chair and pulled on his jeans.

“Hmm wah?” Lance stirred and Keith tensed shit “Lance I’m running out for a bit, you stay in bed.”

“M’kay,” Lance rolled over and Keith blinked...that was easy.

Shiro smiled like a puppy and waved over to Keith “Hi-”

A fist slammed into his face as Keith scowled darkly at him “How dare you show your face around here!” he tried to remain quite in case he woke Lance up, he did leave the window open.

Shiro held his hands out placement “I just wanted to talk,”

Keith rolled his wrist, he hit him too hard “I’m not interested in anything you have to say.”

“Lance is in danger.” Keith paused, glared at him his lilac eyes shaded black “Are you threatening him?”

Shiro only looked apologetic “No, something worse than me.”

Now Keith crossed his arms “Something worse than you?”

Shiro gestured to a pathway towards the town and Keith followed “Why do you think Lance is in trouble.” He knew he shouldn’t encourage this but honestly anything to do with the fea he did want to know.

“None of the others have noticed yet, but I think you have known for a while now.” Shiro didn’t bother with small talk, if he wasn’t mad at the elf he would find it refreshing.

“Known what?”

“That Lance has the sight.” Keith almost stopped talking “The what?” Now Shiro gave him an odd look “The sight, it means a human for no reason whatsoever can see through the glamour of the fea.” Shiro even glanced up thoughtfully “Well they can see things even the Fea themselves can’t see.”

“Well that’s not true, if that was the case Lance would’ve known what I was before I did. Look at me I’m purple!” Shiro paused.

“Purple?”

“Yeah!”

“Keith you still look human,”

“Shiro dont bullshit me-”

“We’re in public and no one has noticed neither did I, for that matter.”

“So I’m…I never lifted it?” But hishands were purple!

“Maybe you did for yourself maybe thats whats triggered Lance’s awakening.

“No- at the courts I ate some fruit, Lancesaid it was disgusting but to me it looked nornal.

Now Shiro looked worried “Well, he wouldn't have been able to see at all, if Lance was never exposed to the courts he wouldn’t have the sight.” Keith stopped walking and gazed down at the floor. Shiro stopped walking and glanced back to Keith and raised an eyebrow. “Keith?”

“Oh god its my fault- I took him there, i exposed him.”

“Keith it wasn’t your fault.”

“Then tell me, the last boy who had the sight what happened to him?” Shiro looked away. And Keith's nerves skyrocketed

“Tell me!”

“They,” he looked back at Keith his eyes dark. “They ripped out his eyes.”

Lance rolled over still caught in the inbetween of dreams and waking, his eyes blinked open when he heard a muffled sound. “Lance wake up-” Lance frowned, did he have school today? He glanced at the time and remembered.

“I have free period today!” He groaned and his mothers yelling ceased. It was his one day of, he rolled over his arm draped over his head, he heard his mother call back “Oh sorry, I forgot,” Of course she did, she tried to take care of him and everyone else, he smiled and almost fell back asleep.

Until yellow eyes flashed through his mind, Lance gripped the sheets and jolted so suddenly he almost fell out of bed, the terror snapping him fully awake-and remebering somethijg he was supposed to do.

he threw the blankets away as he reached underneath his bed frantically for the boxes, he pulled one out and rifled through all the contents inside, albums upon albums of photo’s Lance grabbed one at random and opened it up in his frantic search he paused.

Lance was with two people, a big guy with a yellow bandana and a little...guy? With glasses he can’t remember them but this...it was taken recently. He took the photo and slipped it into his back pocket.

Forgetting it instantly he began to pile through all of his albums. And he couldn’t find it.

“Honey? What are you looking for?” Lance glanced up “Um a picture of grandma? You know where it is?” He began looking around and missed her face falling.

“Lance honey?” She spoke softly it made Lance look up, she pressed her lips together then sighed “Do you not remember?” Lance blinked “Remember what?”

“When your grandmother died, you took it pretty hard.” Lance nodded he knew that “And since you didn’t have friends at school it was harder for you, so you asked to take all of her photo’s to your locker.” Lance could only stare uncomprehending. What did she mean? He had friends in school...didn’t he...Where was this going?

“We had no idea it would happen but some kids burned your locker, remember you went ballistic and we worried you’d be kicked out of school that kids nose never quite healed right.”

Before Lance could ask he remembered. James Griffen.

“I must of repressed it.” He glanced down, so they had no photo’s. None at all. Until his mother took off her necklace and took his hand placing it in the centre “This is the last thing I have of her,” She gave a watery smile and Lance shook his head “No-”

“Lance-” He stood up “No I mean,” He took out his phone and placed the locket near the window and took a picture, he gave it back with a smile “This is all I could ask for.” She blinked then smiled surprised.

“That Keith boy is doing you wonders, you were always alone in school I worried...Lance be careful with him- I’m not making assumptions that he’s a delinquent, it’s just you were going down a dark path and this kid appears ...it’s nice to see I was wrong.”

And didn’t Lance feel like crap, his mother had no idea what they’ve been doing- but that’s changed now he and Keith decided not to go back to the courts.

So in a way he is keeping some promise “Yeah. I promise I’ll be more careful.” He started to put his albums away and his mom stopped him.

“Why don’t we go through them?” She asked and Lance paused then relaxed “Sure mom,” He pulled up a random one and they both got comfortable going through the photo albums as the sun slowly raised higher through Lance’s window.

Lance yawned and placed the album down and glanced back to his phone that had the photo, “Hey mum I’m just going to the polaroid place,” dumb name, he knows.

She raised an eyebrow “What for?”

“To print of the picture, I just wanted a physical copy.” She stood up her legs cracking beneath her, she groaned as she stood straighter. “I don’t see what the fuss is about, just take mine.” Lance shook his head “I want to be careful.” He beamed “Maybe when I’m older.”

“Is that the time already?” his mother looked out the window he glanced where she was looking but he didn’t look at the view his eye locked onto a small flower tucked in the corner. She moved her hand through his hair “I’m going down stairs, I left the kids alone too long.” Lance snickered “They’re like animals.”

Once she left Lance gazed down at his albums puzzled, then picked up his diary, he flicked through the pages.

He...must have blanked most of his childhood, what he wrote- his school life was horrible, he kept getting bullied by James and the others.

He had no friends, no one to stick up for him no one to make him laugh or have his back...his grandother was the only person who he could talk too. With his siblings of to the Garrison and his younger siblings needing taking care of he had no one.

His grandmother was always there and when she died, he got worse. He remembered it was a dark swirl of black emotions, like he was drowning and then the fire.

His locker burning all of memories he had of her.

He punched James but that wasn’t all he did, he started fights. He lashed out and retreated further and further into himself.

That’s why everyone was afraid of him at school, why the bullies never bothered Keith once Lance appeared.

But...that’s not what happened. He had conflicting emotions of one part of his memories being good but the other part being really bad, as if seeing from different perspectives changed it like-

He reached into his back pocket and pulled out the photo, he stared at the two strangers and tried to focus really hard.

He knew them they helped him when he was bullied but they didn’t- He was alone in that locker room with a bloody nose and had to help himself.

They made jokes at dinner time- He was always alone at dinner time.

What was real?

The sunlight rose and flashed against his window pain, Lance grimaced as something flashed past his eyes he looked up and saw a bottle on the window sill, with a flower inside.

He stood up and picked it up, inspecting it with a squint, it wasn’t until he pulled out the flower and twisted it between his fingers did he remember what this type of flower did, the photo in his back pocket burned.

“Mum, where did Keith go?” He asked she shrugged “He left earlier before, he seemed to be in a hurry.”

Lance grabbed his wallet and kissed his mum on the check “Be home soon,” She turned around with a scowl on her face “Don’t be back too late!” He waved back “I be back soon before you know it.”