#i just watched anime for like 3 hours. just looking for this. at least its fun

[ladybirdswritings]

Pride & Prejudice - Coriolanus {Young} Snow x Reader

Summary: Spending more time with the miserable Mr. Snow, against your will, only proves to you exactly why he is a man you have sworn to loathe for all eternity. Steamy Pride & Prejudice retelling with young snow and you! Alternate universe, au!snow <3

Notes: so happy you all loved the first part — so i guess i’m continuing ahaha. as always, thank u for leaving comments and loves as it keeps me motivated! also, feel free to lmk if you’d like to be added to the tag list <3

two

The mist of September’s end and October’s greeting is a thick, heavy blanket in the air. You only scowl at it as you pick up your tiered skirt from where it drags against emerald moss and dirt. A storm is nearby.

You would melt into this very soil if you could. Become one with the lilacs and peonies if it meant you’d never be prevailed upon to marry again by the force of your mother.

Mama is unwell. As always but, with more fervor now. The dance was most successful for Jane. She and Sejanus have been exchanging kind letters with pomegranate stained kisses garnishing the print. Even so, mama is viciously unhappy.

The cherrywood cabinets slam louder when you pass, and her eyes narrow at any mention of the gathering. Perhaps your behavior was a great embarrassment for her. If only you were as divine as Jane.

The house is lively, far too lively for your liking at this settling hour. Sisters here and sisters there. They busy themselves with the grand piano and awful singing. It isn’t long until one of the twins rushes forward with a sealed envelope clasped tightly in hand.

“Mama! It is for Jane!”

You snatch the paper from her palm, worrisome that she will ruin it with how tightly she squeezes. Beyond this, you are most eager to see the development in your own personal romance novel starring your dearest sister. Mama slaps your hand away in turn, tugging it back into a monstrous grasp that nearly shreds it to minuscule little pieces.

You see the breath halt and dwell comfortably in her throat, unwilling to part or falter. This is most important to her, trivial matter as it is.

So long as Jane is happy…

You gaze on at the girl with petal-pink cheeks and bright eyes — her smile is a thing of beauty and joy at the mere idea that Sejanus Plinth could admire her.

“Mama! What does it say!”

Her hands tremble like hummingbirds now, and your frown stitches itself promptly upon your pretty face. Oh no, he is certain to have changed his mind.

At least he was kind and gentleman enough to inform dear Jane by letter.

That joy, excitement and eagerness once swimming within your mother’s eyes has dissipated to sheer horror.

“When did we receive this?” She whispers, a ghastly and terror laced sound.

“This morning!” One of the twins happily offers, twirling her chocolate ringlet tight enough to knot.

Mama cries out a sound of agony, shoving the paper hard against Jane’s chest — enough so that she stumbles. She is a frantic thing, running round your quaint living space like that of a farm animal who has lost its head.

You are fueled by your own confusion, constricting your mind to only wait upon Jane. She shakily reads the crumbled thing — hesitance becoming her. Her eyes shift then; a look of joy, excitement, fear — then dread.

“What is it?” You whisper, watching as mama mutters nonsense and brushes the collection of scattered breadcrumbs from the countertop — eyes wide as the moon aglow at midnight.

“Mr. Plinth and his sister, alongside Mr. Snow and sir Plinth’s dear — rich uncle, have all planned to meet with us this evening. They’ve taken a carriage, and have made arrangements to arrive by sundown.”

Four pairs of eyes, in perfected unison, glance into the grassy plains where the sun has begun to set.

You do not intend to giggle at the irony, perhaps it is a thing fueled by nerves just as your mother. Yet it floats from your sweet lips like a prayer, slender fingers rushing to suffocate it.

It is undeniably numerous, however. How could it be anything but?

The way your dearest blood all melts at the brim for the gaze of three men whom are only important by cold silver is a thing of great mystery to you, something you do not understand. It is not just mama and Jane and the entirety of your own family however. No, it is all of society. You only wonder what it would be like for a woman to reach beyond the horizon line — to be great. To not be forced upon a man of all creatures to be of true importance.

Mama rushes past, so quickly your hair becomes unruly. She presses her palms firmly against your cheeks — your face piecing together like a swift minnow from the nearby fish pond.

“Oh heavens — if you do even the littlest act so to embarrass me, I am certain to die of great illness. My nerves are far too weak, you must behave for me! Be as sweet Jane is. Sir Plinth’s uncle is of the richest gentleman in Newbury, 5,000 a year! You must converse with him, do it for your dearest mother. Oh! And brush that wild hair from your face, girl. He will think you to be a witch — keep guard at the window.”

Her words are a tangled, knotted mess of all the things you despise. Even whilst tucked away into a place where you do not truly listen, you know well she is asking you to be social for gain of a husband.

You frown, grateful when the headless chicken runs off from you again. Your hand fussses with the wisps rested amongst your forehead — and you obey mama’s orders by sauntering to the creaky old chair that faces the fogged front window.

The fog is a veil, a curtain hiding from you only dread. You are grateful for it now, though it does no good for your locks and tresses. Your eyes dart to the torn book beside you — and you consider disobedience as an alternative to this state. You know well what will happen if you stray, so you do not dare it.

It is an awfully timely and punctual arrival — perhaps ten ticks of the grand, tower clock before the stallion’s snouts peek through the fog. Just as the golden halo sets beyond them.

“Mama!”

You call, but she only waves you away with a busy hand as she continues fussing with the knit table mat. You will not bother it again. You shrink, hiding all but curious eyes behind the lace curtain.

Sejanus is grinning, nervously you think. Then the scowling sister, a small, old creature with a sunken gaze — and the miserable one. They approach, you sink further.

“God Sejanus, smile any more for the poor thing and your pockets will start betraying you.” Grace sneers, voice sewn tightly with disgust at the less fortunate situation your family finds themselves in, glancing around at the quaint, pathetic home. It is as if she believes one breath of hers will cause it to collapse to the soil — to her polished feet.

“Please Grace, she is the prettiest girl I have ever seen. Oh, uncle, her eldest sister is very agreeable as well. Don’t you agree, Snow?”

Oh, he’s asked the cold thing who’s far too proud and rich for a humble party. You’re curious.

“Perfectly tolerable, I suppose. But not pretty enough to tempt me.”

Oh…

Your mischievous, sneaky grin melts into that of a hard line — ample with annoyance. How arrogant of him to say. As if his blonde locks and blue eyes make him any different than the handsome officers that pass by now and then. As if he is some prize. You scowl, Grace’s laugh an unpleasant sound.

Four hard knocks and you are quickly up to your feet.

Mama rushes to you immediately, slapping your hand enough so that it stings greatly and fades the color crimson.

“You were meant to watch! Places, take your stance girls!”

It takes beyond the greatest force to drag your feet to stand beside Jane. Mama checks each forced position anxiously before she tugs the door open wide — with a horrible, eager grin.

“Welcome!”

They trail the moss and dirt onto your oak floors, not bothering to wipe it away on the torn cloth you call a carpet. No need, they believe. The house is pathetic already as it stands. No dirt shall make it any less worthy than it already is.

In unison, a curtsy of greeting becomes all of you. Prim and proper and perfect just as mother groomed you all to be. For preparation of husbands.

Good god, the blonde looks even more dreadful now. Cold eyes darting to the old, harmless hound that chews on a racket ball. He winces at the sight of dust and chipped oak wood furniture surrounding. He looks down upon this place as if it is beneath him.

He far from belongs here.

“Sit, please sit! I’ve already prepared us supper!” Mama practically pushes Sejanus with most nervous palms, and his shadows follow suite.

Though you dream of running through the open door and fading into the mist to never be found again — you obey; sauntering into the archway with tired eyes and reluctant feet.

“My lady…”

Oh.

The short man with bushy brows and coal colored, untamed locks pulls your seat back enough so that you may sit upon it. To your dismay, the miserable one takes place in front of you. His eyes are cast downward to the far from fine silverware laid before him.

“Thank you sir.” You whisper, the chair feeling as though it is determined to suffocate you the longer you sit upon it.

“Oh, Jane — everybody, please meet my uncle, Mr. Casca Highbottom of Bristol.”

You only nod at the grinning old man, and mama rushes back like a midnight breeze through the archway — setting plates filled to the brim with but all of the food left for the entire month. Even so, it remains poor to a gazing eye. Though it matters not how little garnishes the porcelain, for when you catch gaze of miserable Snow pushing his few peas around in disgust, you cannot help but narrow your sight.

How can he be so proud? Certainly, if a humble gathering invited you in for a warm meal in this awful mist — you’d be most grateful for even a singular pea on your plate. Let alone twelve.

Grace laughs at the sight of Snow displeased — placing a soft palm against his knee beneath the cherrywood table. He spares her laugh a glance, and his lip twitches in what appears to be an amused smile. They talk lowly to each other, you notice it from where you peer behind your glass. She must be fond of him what with the way she touches him and leans closer with each word he speaks. You cannot possibly imagine why. Perhaps they are just alike. Rich, rude things.

“So — I dare ask if any suitors captured your heart at the party then?” Grace, she speaks to you now. You snort, ready to offer words of disdain and disgust toward the lot of men and their sweaty palms. Your mother’s cold glare silences you.

“No… they did not.” You mutter in quick defeat.

“Hmm, how dreadful…” it is mock sympathy, noticeable to both you and Jane.

Tension thins to a mere string lacing the table together. Silence blanketing even more so than the mist as worn silverware and mama’s embarsssing tangents erupt in painful harmony. You are grateful for Jane who manages to pry her eyes from Sejanus for a single moment so to save you from mama’s disapproving glare at your silence. She is selling you to the short man, it seems. She has been for the entirety of this meal.

“It is not as though gentlemen do not flock to my dear sister…” Jane starts. “It is simply that she is far too preoccupied with her books to notice them. She is an avid reader, adores her novels you see. She possesses great talents because of it!”

You hoped Jane would be so kind as to avert the attention. Yet it remains stable upon you, the available wife — as cattle with clipped ears. You feel as though you are livestock being powdered and pressed for the market. If the short man is buying, you’d rather be butchered.

He is awkward and stout and his jokes are uncomfortable as they are just rude. He is far from a gentleman and all the reason you deny each hand bestowed to you in the first place. For reason of men like him.

“You write?” Snow inquires.

Those cold, devoid eyes are locked upon you — and despite wishing to send him away to never return so you may be free of his arrogance, you only peer up at his gaze through fanned lashes to see them commanding an answer of you. Awaiting one.

“Occasionally, sir.”

His gaze doesn’t falter, nor does the gaze of Mr. Highbottom, even as he presses a boiled potato to his tongue.

“What of?”

What a silly question, you think. What else would a woman of your age and lack quill about?

It baffles you to find him curious. Perhaps he does not wish to seem obviously rude any more so than he simply is — perhaps he is only creating small talk.

“What else, sir? My thoughts and desires, my ideas. Romance — dramatics…”

“Oh but she just despises poetry!” Mama interjects, as if to end the conversation and refocus it upon your eligibility. Even when she speaks, Snow does not spare her a single glance. His eyes, they still rest upon you.

“You do? I thought poetry to be the food of love.”

You dare a snort then, suffocating a fit of laughter with a spoonful of food. You take your time chewing it, only offering more words when you realize that the conversation does not seem to be at its end. No. It cannot be. Not when he looks at you in a such an expectant manner.

“A poet writes of women in the gaze of all men, which I do not believe to be a true show of adoration. Perhaps it is the food of love — if you want to suffocate it. Stone it till it remains no longer.”

His next words come quick, immediately almost. As if he is grasping at the first chance to reply, much to Highbottom’s dismay whom snaps his mouth shut after losing the opportunity. Every eye in attendance is on the both of you.

Do they think you to be an enigma? You wonder…

“What do you recommend then? To encourage affection between two people…”

You do not know why he asks you this, but you can only assume it is because he wishes to embarrass you. Grace’s sharp gaze morphs into that of an amused smirk. Why would he ask the only woman seated what encourages affection when she cannot obtain it on her own?

You are certain then of his intentions. To mock you in front of Plinth’s sister, his uncle. In front of your blood. He does it so subtlety that if you were not bright as you are — you would most certainly miss it. He is a fool, a great fool because miraculously — you can reciprocate.

“Dancing… even if one’s partner is only tolerable.” You almost sneer with a tilt of your head and raise of your sharp brow.

If something truly clicks within him, it is most quickly dissipated. Most tricky to see. Sejanus clears his throat, and Highbottom — rude creature, erupts into a fit of laughter with a mouthful of food. Your mother is nervous, she joins him.

Grace only gasps, and Jane’s soft features are laced with confusion at the thing only you five are lucky enough to understand.

You remain stoic, challenging his eyes and his tense, twitching jaw with proudness.

“Shall I fetch dessert mama?”

Your mother nods through fits of forced laughter, and you take the opportunity to lift upon your feet. The chair scrapes against the creaky panels and nearly topples as you rush into the quaint kitchen and away from him.

It brings you joy knowing that he has nothing further to say.

You are smiling, terribly overflowed with pride as you place canned, sugared peaches upon ten porcelain plates. How proud he must have felt to speak lowly of you, a girl he spared little words to at a party he refrained from dancing at for it was too poor for his liking.

You disliked him then — but a chat with miss Lucy-Gray Baird while passing by in town confirmed all of your prejudice. She claims to have been treated most coldly by him whilst he was courting her. He offered his hand, then fled into midnight when he grew bored of her. Only the next morning.

He is as any other man is. A heartless hound. His behavior in your small home only further proves your prejudice is with more than enough reason.

You take longer than you should selfishly, and when you return — your gaze locks upon Sejanus who is entirely enamored by the sapphire gaze of Jane.

Mama aids you in placing down the plates you juggle. It is a poor dessert, but one that is most delectable.

“Oh well, your daughter is most precious. Funny, too! How uncommon for women.”

“Oh please uncle, we all have our wit. She is just peculiar, I daresay.”

Mama laughs at Grace’s words, and you only offer a polite, tense smile before being seated once again. It is you now that pushes your food around your plate, fading into the mist truly as you remain silent.

They speak of things you care the least bit for — all irrelevant matters to your mind. You are grateful when wine is poured, you nearly inhale it and garner a slap on your hand once again from mama.

You need it to get thought this.

Highbottom and mama speak of you, she tells him lies. How much you wish to be wed, how eager you are to find a lover. All contradictions of Jane’s earlier lick of truth. The rich fool believes her, his eyes cast upon you like poisonous darts. Slowly suffocating you.

Sejanus is preoccupied entirely by Jane — and the miserable one chats lowly with the scowling sister.

“Well, how about some music and dance? Lizzie, off to the piano!”

Your youngest sister lifts — eager to press her hands against the keys. It will be a mediocre melody but one that offers enough sound so to dance. You wish to stay glued to the table as they leave you to the living space — but mama tugs at your braid harshly, you have no choice other than obedience.

Sejanus kindly offers Jane a hand — and you feel as though you will just sink entirely into the floor as Highbottom approaches. Your heel turns you swift as you try and find even a small bit of space in this little home.

A navy vest with a crimson rose tucked into its pocket cages your escape. You never thought to see the day you’d be grateful for the cold blonde who cuts in front. You nearly collide with him.

“Dance with me.” He commands.

How baffling…

You do not notice the tension settled within your features until your brows ease in confusion. Your chin is pointed upwards — enough so that he can be equal to your gaze.

“Are you asking this of me — or ordering sir?”

His jaw ticks once more, but he does not follow up with any more words. The cleared throat of the short man behind you is enough reason to pick the far less uncomfortable poison. You’d rather be fueled by annoyance as opposed to discomfort and dread. One dance is all.

“Fine.” You mutter, sealing your fate and betraying your swear to be far away from the man whom you loathe entirely.

He is a pale thing up close. Birth marks kissing silken skin, soft as the moss kissing your shoes. You are grateful that this dance does not require touch — only the occasional closeness.

You follow him to where Sejanus and Jane stand — his head nearly reaches your ceiling. His palm hovers over yours, eyes downcast on your pretty features. Grace is scowling, again.

Your fingers twitch as Lizzie begins the sonnet, and you follow his lead.

It surprises you greatly, how well he dances. Though his mouth is a hard line, and his eyes are like round lumps of charred coal. He is noiseless.

“Are we to dance in dread and silence, Mr. Snow? I dare comment on this awful weather, now you may follow with a remark about the food. How much you despised it.”

You catch a glimpse of him, a suppressed twitch of his lips. As if the words offended him. Maybe amused him. You step forward and then back, frayed skirt floating against the movement. He follows suite.

“I could comment on how you dance. I am happy to inform you it is more tasteful than how you cook. Please do advise me on what more you want me to say to you.”

You stumble by his words — and his eyes dart to your clumsy feet. They are stable soon enough, circling him like a shark in vicious waters. His words upset you.

“Mama and Jane prepared the meal. I only prepared the peaches; but I do believe that if a family was kind enough to welcome an abrupt attendance with a warm meal — I would not be so complacent about its contents. You see — we are not all so fortunate to have garnered inheritance, Mr. Snow.” A cold melody, but one he would be a fool to ignore. It is all true.

Now it is him that halts. He steps forward, dipping his head low. Your eyes wander to his gloved palm — it clenches then flexes outward; all evidence of his annoyance with your words.

There you both stand, Sejanus and Jane alongside the twins, mama and Highbottom swirling around you. You do not know where Grace lurks.

You both are still, he stands a tower above you. His eyes pour heat into your own, admonishing you — offended with your words. It is as if the room is only filled with the two of you, the lace of connection between you just your anger. Even in your short time being familiar, it is strong.

“Do you imply that my inheritance is all the reason for my success?” He forces through clenched — perfect teeth.

“Perhaps I do sir, miss Baird of Newbury certainly agree—”

The hand that lays against your side is snatched into his own. He squeezes it tight now, eyes wide and swimming with disapproval and frustration. It has been resting at the surface, but bound to crack.

“Oh I’m certain she does. I am sure she told you the many tales of her troubles and woes brought upon by her time spent with me. You won’t speak to her again.”

It is you that steps forward now, so laced with upset that you do not notice your poor and worn shoes are stepping upon his tip toes. Up upon the rich and shined leather. Your chin is pointed upward, your stance tense.

“You command me as if I am wed to you sir, but I am not. You have come here, unannounced and unhappy with your humble plate as if we are all but a quaint inn with poor maids. Just because we gather little and obscure and we do not have pockets as generous and full as yours does not make us beneath you, Mr. Snow.”

The music halts, and your eyes shift quickly to find a concerned Jane gazing on — alongside your horrified mother. How crazed you both must look now. Stepping upon his toes with palms clasped — anger and upset becoming you both.

You release his gloved hand and part your soft lips to dismiss yourself — yet a strike of lightning cracking from above the grayed sky is a gift given, a distraction from beyond. Yet alongside it? A curse.

The horses startle, lifting to their hind legs before running far and fast with the carriage. Grace cries out from where she sulked in the shadows, and Sejanus alongside his uncle run after the wild beasts. Your sisters and mama follow.

“What are we to do!?”

“Grace, please be calm. We will fetch them.”

“We cannot travel in these conditions, boy.”

“You may rest here!”

Dread is a serpent that wraps tight round your throat — making the pounding of your heart halt entirely.

It is all a blur, but by the end of the lively conversation it is decided. They will stay. They will all stay. You bow your head, crossing your arms round the beating at your chest so to protect it.

“Excuse me.” You whisper, so low it is taken with the breeze from the open door before rushing up your dilapidated steps; knowing full well that the hospitality offered by mama, selfish reasoning or not, is the last thing a man like Mr. Snow deserves…

#young snow #young snow x reader #young snow smut #coriolanus snow #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus x you #coriolanus snow smut #coriolanus smut #corio snow #coriolanus fanfiction #coriolanus imagine #coriolanus x y/n #sejanus plinth #sejanus imagine #coriolanus x sejanus #au!coriolanus snow #au!snow #pride and prejudice #pride and prejudice fanfiction #tom blyth #tom blythe #coriolanus x lucy gray #coriolanus x oc

[oromaangel]

A Family Day at the Beach

Nanami Kento x fem! Reader

Tags: Pure sweet almost sickly fluff, Domestic, pregnancy, SFW, Alternative Universe, I was watching a bunch of Nara Smith videos and needed an outlet before I ended up getting married and having a real-life baby

w/c: 2,083

Based on this moodboard I made

For reference son is around 5 years old, older daughter is around 3, baby is almost 1 and the fetus is a fetus.

Dividers by @soulari

Nanami walked leisurely across the shore line of Kuantan watching his son and daughter in pure amusement as they poked and prodded at a displeased crab.

He had warned them earlier to leave the animal alone, that its claws would pinch their little fingers however, they insisted that the crab come back to live in their sand castle and that it had simply lost its way home. He couldn’t argue with that.

So for the better part of half an hour he had joined his kids in the slow journey guiding “Mr. Grabs” back home. And finally after a lifetime of traversing the sand dunes, the sand castle was in view.

“Almost there Mr. Grabs” his daughters sweet voice offered words of encouragement gently tapping the crabs hard exterior with a twig in the hope to jolst in further ahead. His son however, has grown restless over this whole ordeal.

“UGHHHH Can this thing be any slower” his son puffed, squeezing at his blonde tendrils in frustration. Nanami let out a breathy laugh recounting that at least all the lessons he had taught them both on patience had an effect on one of the children.

In that moment of positive recollection, he glanced upwards towards the sky soaking in the warmth from the rays above.

Big Mistake.

His knee-length clone identified this slight second of distraction from the adult present which gave him enough time to make his move. Nanami should have expected this, kids are like predators, waiting for a moment of weakness from their prey (their parents) before striking and doing something stupid. Alas just as quickly as his happy memories started to play, it ended with the shrill shriek of his daughter.

“Put him down” she screamed as she watched her brother pick up Mr Grabs and run in the direction of the sand castle. Before Nanami could open his mouth she had taken off after her brother, swinging her plastic toy shovel in the air. Standing there in the cloud of sand dust left by his children Nanami mused the idea of yelling at both of them to stop knowing they would both immediately listen but something tickled in the back of his head reminding him that this would be a great parenting lesson to have up his sleeve so he resigned to watching this small bout of madness play out already knowing how it would end.

His son looked back at his sisters expression taunting her with a toothy grin “I’m just faster than you-“

“Three, two, one…” like magic Nanami counted in his head and as soon as the clock struck midnight his son’s face began to contort. First confusion, then pain, then….

Every beachgoer in the near vicinity, grimaced at the ear splitting scream let out by the little boy as he began to flay his arm attempting to unattach a very pissed off crab from his appendage. Pushing the smug parent grin to the back of his mind Nanami approached the panicked child and removed the crustacean from his body, tossing it to the side and watching as it hurriedly scuttled away.

“Errrrr, Kento!” Your voice slashed through the moment “When I said watch the kids, watching them get bitten by crabs was not what I had in mind!” You grumbled, awkwardly manoeuvring yourself upwards, your round pregnant belly throwing off your centre of gravity causing you to stumble slightly in your ascent. Beside you your youngest child babbled happily in the sand, unaware of the distress her older siblings were in.

Nanami grinned sheepishly “It’s alright dear no one got hurt” he held the blushing boys arm as proof of his claim “Lie back done and get some rest” he cooed sweetly. Although your eyes were hidden behind a pair of sunglasses he could feel the daggers aimed in his direction before you sighed and laid back down in the sun chair, picking back up the mother magazine you were reading.

He knelt down wordlessly and analysed the boy's wound, the finger was pinched pink but otherwise no skin was broken and no damage was caused other than to his ego. Smiling sweetly at his son, his lecture to the sniffling child on patience and respecting animals had begun in the most serious tone he could muster with that heavenly ‘Told you so’ feeling swimming in the back of his mind. His son stared at the ground, he hated being scolded by Nanami despite the fact his father never raised his voice or berated him his tone always carried a serious level of discipline and respect that could make a bird feel bad for singing. Nanami didn't like scolding either but he knew it was important to ensure his children stayed on the right path and represented him and his wife's hard work well. The boy nodded wordlessly once Nanami had reached his concluding message and reached out to hug his father's open arms buring his face into the older man's chest.

This was your fourth child with Nanami yet you were still a bundle of nerves preparing for their arrival. Being so close in age with your youngest (completely unplanned on your part, SOMEONE can’t keep their hands and other body parts to themselves) you worried about dividing your attention equally between the under twos and also how much sleep you would be able to get with breastfeeding two mouths.

You had read countless advice columns and mommy blogs warning about the dangers of having kids too close in age, critiquing mothers with large families on their ability to love and provide attention to all their children equally, and seen countless posts warning about the dangers of just about everything you currently did raising your young family. Doubt began to fill your head and despite having three little ones you felt like a new mother learning to do the correct things all over again.

Nanami did his best to ease your anxiety with foot rubs and affirming words reminding you that you both were a team and that he was ready to take on the sleepless nights again, even suggesting hiring a full time nanny to live in the house during the first few months to make the newborn stage easier. You declined his offer, despite home-care being cheaper in Malaysia it would still eat into a large chuck on his savings that could be allocated better elsewhere. Plus you had just watched a video of kids saying that they liked their nanny more than their moms which only added to your growing anxiety.

Nanami had noticed your behaviour change, especially after you began to second guess whether or not you'd vaccinate the baby and seriously discussed giving birth at home in the tub with no nurse or midwife. He shot down these ideas immediately, insisting that he would not be putting you or his children through that extra stress based on conspiracy theories and fear-mongering. He had started to worry about how all the 'online garbage' was affecting your sanity and mental health during your third trimester and insisted on having a no-technology day at the beach to ease your worries.

After another great parenting lesson was concluded Nanami made his way towards his moody wife. Your grouchiness never bothered him, in fact, it was one of his favourite parts of pregnancy. Seeing you become tender and over-emotional and knowing exactly how to squeeze a smile out of you in those moments was his greatest pleasure and partially why you both had formed a little league football team worth of children in such a short amount of time.

“There are my sweet girls” he approached the cheery baby on the ground first, casually removing the fist full of sand that was making its way to her open mouth and peppering kisses across her chubby cheeks causing her to bubble over in laughter. Music to his ears.

“And my favourite girl” he grinned placing the baby on his hip and crouching beside you on the chair. You glanced away from your magazine and scoffed at the slight on your husband’s over-exaggerated kissy face he was making at you.

“No kisses for me?” He asked playfully cocking his head to the side. You rolled your eyes and placed a single chaste kiss on his lips but before you could pull yourself away, you felt a large hand on the back of your neck , keeping you in place as he deepened the kiss. You mumbled incoherently into his mouth for a second before giving in to the affection placing a soft hand on the side of his face. After what felt like an eternity, this kiss was interrupted by a small disapproving smack from the baby on his side who began claw at both of your faces clearly distressed by this public display of affection.

Giggles enveloped the both of you whilst affectionately watching the baby crawl back to the pile of toys in the sand once placed on the ground.

“Still reading that magazine love? Nanami asked glancing at the the object in question “Honestly, we’ve done this three times already I don’t know what other advice you could possibly need or how much more equipment we could fit in the nursery” he grunted as he stood up from the sand balancing at the edge of your sun-bed.

Rolling your eyes you folded up the magazine placing it out of sight “There’s always some thing new to learn with these things, like the new Montessori school opening nearby and there’s these baby bottles that are shaped like real nipples to help with latching, and a bassinet that rocks the baby for you! It’s called the SNOO it’s about eight thousand Ringgits but we can buy it second hand” Nanami playfully groaned at your rambling shifting his body until he laying between your thighs leaving small kisses where he could reach.

“Are you even listening to me Kento? I said it says here that plastic nappies are actually bad for babies skin and that plastic bottles can cause eczema” He hummed absentmindedly in response resulting in a pout from you and a flick to the forehead.

Brushing off your annoyance he pointed his finger in the direction of your two oldest children who were engrossed in a very intense game of tag “Look over there love”

You winced slightly at the blow your daughter had delivered to her brother back once she caught up with him suppressing your giggle as he face-planted into the floor before getting up and taking after his assailant at full speed.

“And over here” he again pointed to the baby playing “Can I eat that?” in the sand beside them.

“You raised all of these kids just fine without all that nonsense, we’re going to be just fine” he kissed your thighs again caressing small circles into you while his eyes remained half-lidded.

You huffed again staring down at your caring husband allowing yourself to relax at his touch. Maybe he was right, all your babies were happy and healthy and you kept them alive for this long and anonmom2567 couldn't be THAT much better at parenting than you afterall.

"You're probably right Ken" you sighed again closing your eyes and relaxing back into the sunbed, he smiled lazily into your thighs content that his plan had worked and that he could reduce some of his wife’s troubles. The sound of gentle waves and chatter lulled you both into comfortable silence appreciating the wonderful weather, coastal air, and beautiful sky.

Of course as a parent silence meant trouble was afoot.

After a few minutes of this blissful silence you turnt to find your baby was not at her pile of blocks. You immediantly shot up and began to scan the area horrified to see your baby a considerable distance away (how'd she even crawl that fast???) at another families beach set up eating a popsicle from a cooing older lady.

"Aren't you just the most precious little angel" she fawned over your littlest one who was already scanning what they would eat next.

Not only that your oldest son had decided that the most adequet punishment for the slap he had recieved earlier was digging his younger sister neck deep in the sand.

Nanami followed your eyes to the scenes before him and let out a loud laugh, getting up to dig out the now-crying child while you retrieved your baby escape artist.

You were going to be just fine.

A/N: My second public fic omgggg hope you enjoyed. I was binge watching a bunch of Nara Smiths content and decided that I need to write my own young family AU before I messed around and married a mormon

#jujustu kaisen #nananmi kento #jjk nanami #nanami x reader #nanami kento x reader #nanami x you #nanami kento x you #jjk x reader #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jujustsu kaisen au

[imamotherfuckingstar-lord]

OP smutty headcanons pt. 2

Warnings: ⚠️no minors pls ⚠️

Just some fun headcanons I have for some of the OP men ☠️

OP men: Kid, Ace, Sabo

pt. 1 pt. 3

Eustass 'Captain' Kid

this motherfucker is filthy

choking kink (giving) - his favorite thing is seeing his fingers around your neck as he pushes his cock in and out of you.

he wants to hear you call him 'daddy' because you're his good little pet.

he's into voyeurism. if he's in the mood, kid's going to pin you against the nearest wall and finger you right then and there. He doesn't care whose around because who the hell will dare look his way? His favorite spot to fuck you is right on the deck on his ship, bending you over the railing - the sea a perfect view. The rest of the crew tries to avoid certain times of the day because of this...

Cream pies - he's going to fill you up, he doesn't give a fuck if you get pregnant. he kinda has a breeding kink.

he's an ass man. hands constantly on your bottom, so he does enjoy the occasional anal sex.

Generally, he can be rough during sex but he's not an animal. he'll continuously check on you to make sure you're okay. He understands no means no and if you tell him to stop, he's going to stop.

Aftercare, he's actually sweet about it. He's shy about affection and blushes whenever you kiss him. Usually after sex, he'll carry you to the washroom to clean up. He likes showering with you. Most times, you two end up cuddling in bed afterwards. He's quick to fall asleep.

Portgas D. Ace

He's not as experience as he seems and he's shy about it but who could ever deny such a handsome face?

He's a gentle lover; he hates the thought of hurting you. "Ah, god, are you okay? Is this okay?" is his mantra the first few times but eventually he gets the hang of it. He likes taking his time, slow jerks in and out of your pussy. He can go for hours if you let him.

massive cock - is anyone surprise?

'eating out pussy' king - he just wants his head permanently between your legs, please. He's been such a good boy!

praise kink (giving/receiving) - like he said, he's been a good boy! Please praise him! Tell him how good he's making you feel and how big his cock is. In turn, he's going to hold you by the chin and tell you how good your pussy feels.

he's a moaner - sucking his cock? moaning. riding him like a cowgirl? moaning. giving him a sneaky handjob when no one's watching. he has his hand over his own mouth to stop from...moaning.

he's a tits man. likes to fall asleep with his hand on at least one of your breast. if he could, he'd have a hand up your shirt 24/7. it's not even a sexual thing most times, he just finds it comforting as hell.

aftercare includes cuddling right away. both filthy? he doesn't care, he thinks its kinda romantic - bodies vulnerably nude as he holds you against him, hand on your back. In these moments, he likes to talk to you about his brothers.

Flame Emperor Sabo

he's baby boy, eager, eager, eager. all he wants to do is please you.

but he can also be dominant when he gets that urge.

spanking kink (giving): only when you ask. he likes to warm his hand a bit (fire kink??) and loves to hear your little yelps.

his favorite positions are doggy style and reverse cowgirl - something about your ass in plain view excites him. when in public his eyes are always wandering to your ass and you catch him every damn time. the boy gets beet red EVERYTIME.

he loves handjobs. in an alleyway while on a mission? yes, please. when he's looking out to sea and feels you behind him, hands slipping down in pants? god, yes! He gets stress a lot and you are always there to lend a hand....and he loves you for it.

cum kink - one time you were giving him a hand job and when he finished all over your hand, you gave it a lick. He grew hard instantly. his new found kink includes cumming on your tits and face, the latter his personal favorite - you just look so good with him on you!

he likes to use his iron pipe on you in public. most of the time he's just messing you with - likes to see your reaction when he taps the iron pipe lightly against your ass. he's a playful motherfucker but sometimes, sometimes he rubs the pipe the right away against your pussy...just sayin'.

aftercare - he's going to bring you a towel to clean up with. he's also bringing something to eat and drink, the two of you in bed talking and discussing revolutionary business while enjoying one another's company.

..............................................................

want to see an OP character? send requests in! females included!

#op smutty headcanons #op headcanons #one piece #eustass kid #portgas d ace #revolutionary sabo #flame emperor sabo #ace x reader #kid x reader #sabo x reader

[delcakoo]

hi ! can i req jungwon as the big spoon?

hihi ofcc <3 writing this def cheered me up, thank u for the cute req anonnie! (soft hours closed)

9:41PM — “jagi, are you sleepy yet?” jungwon whispers, head against your chest as the promised neverland plays softly on your tv in front of you.

you tap your phone curiously at his question, brows furrowing at the early time displayed on your screen. “it’s only like, 10pm, wonnie.”

your boyfriend peers up at you grumpily, large cat eyes nearly impossible to refuse. “i know, but i’m really really getting sleepy, y/n,” he continues to complain, wiggling around like a toddler.

snickering at his tired antics, you reach for the remote to turn off the anime, watching from your peripheral vision as jungwon grins happily at your inability to tell him ‘no’.

only a minute or two later, you find yourself hopping into bed, jungwon following close behind from his side of the mattress while eliciting a silent yawn. once you’re both securely settled in the sheets, you quickly lift an arm to turn off your lamp, embracing the pitch black darkness that follows suit.

at this point, normally you’d wrap your arms around the boy, leave a few gentle pecks down the back of his head and neck before murmuring out a ‘goodnight’ and ‘sleep well’. but you’re shocked to say the least when you feel jungwon push you over to face away from him, a lazy arm pulling your back right up against his chest while the other lays above your head on the pillow protectively.

“what- what are you doing?” you inquire, rendered speechless. his heart beat is surprisingly calm and relaxed, opposing your unsteady one at the close yet unusual contact of the male. it was practically an unspoken rule that you were supposed to hold him in bed, not the other way around!

jungwon giggles, dragging you impossibly closer and snuggling his face into your hair. “i felt like trying out big spoon tonight,” he explains cutely.

“oh? and what’s your opinion thus far?”

“i get the appeal,” he instantly admits. “i have so much power! i can change positions and cuddle you however i want and there’s nothing you can do about it~” you can nearly envision the cat boy’s snarky, teasing expression at that moment, sighing as a larger leg raises on top of yours, effectively trapping you in place like a snake to its prey.

your boyfriend may look weak and small compared to some of his weightlifting bandmates, but there was no doubt in his strength at times like these. “ah, this is seriously perfect,” jungwon groans in satisfaction.

you fake a dramatic huff, “yeah, for you, idiot. i’m practically immobile over here.” little did he know you that you were busy smiling like an idiot, thanking the overwhelming darkness for hiding your ears and cheeks growing warmer by the minute.

“yoi, don’t pretend you aren’t loving this.”

perhaps you’d allow jungwon to take charge of cuddling more often.

the ‘yoi’ is supposed to be that thing wonnie always does irl 😭 i just didn’t know how i should spell it jshsj

#delcakoo #delcakoo requests #enhypen imagines #enhypen fluff #enhypen fics #jungwon x you #jungwon fics #jungwon drabbles #jungwon scenarios #jungwon fluff #jungwon imagines #jungwon timestamps #jungwon x reader #jungwon x y/n #yang jungwon scenarios #yang jungwon #yang jungwon fics #yang jungwon imagines #yang jungwon fluff #jungwon imagine #enhypen imagine #enhypen fic #enhypen drabbles #enhypen x reader #enhypen reactions #enhypen scenarios #enhypen drabble #enhypen #enhypen soft hours #enhypen timestamps

[mssonepiece]

You said you wanted one..

Satoru Gojo x Reader

Content~Fluff

From this poll.

You and Satoru have decided to take the next step in your relationship by moving in together. You've been dating for five years now, and after bringing it up so often you decided to shoot the bullet and ask Satoru if he really wanted to find a place to grow and start a family of your own. You were nervous asking him such a question at first but he agreed that you'd been dating so long that you might as well live together. Adding that it would be much easier to sleep in the same bed when you aren't having to travel to each others houses every night. It's been a serene few weeks breaking into the new house and creating new habits. Picking a house that suited both of your requirements was very stressful on you and finally being able to relax knowing all the furniture was in place, was everything that you needed with this move. With everything being in order, you and Satoru were able to spend days at home resting on the couch or in bed. The move has brought you together much closer than you've ever been. It felt like you didn't need anything else from life in this moment. However, Satoru walking past a pet store on his way from work couldn't help himself from getting pulled into the shop. He took his time browsing around all the fish, birds, dogs, and eventually cats that were in the back of the store. There's a range of colors to pick from of small kittens, they have to be at least 3 months old. Instantly Satoru knew that he had to bring one of these kittens home to you. He remembers how you mentioned loving animals and wanting a few of your own one day, which is only temping him to buy one more. A yellowish-orange kitten with a cream colored patch covering half of its face stretches up the glass as far at it can reach, catching Satoru attention. He can't help but let out an audible 'aw' at its actions, smiling brightly at the thoughts in his head. He takes a minute to watch all the kittens play before walking up to the staff to show them which cat he will be taking home.

You got home from working at your office job about an hour ago, deciding to unpack a few of the remaining boxes lying around the house to tidy up a bit. It’s an attempt at trying to keep yourself busy while waiting for Satoru to get home from a "hard" day of teaching, though after a while you notice it seems to be taking a little longer today than normal. It’s not long before you get tired of emptying boxes and opts for putting on a tv show to past the time instead. Half an hour later the click of the front doors lock and the footsteps of Satoru's boots pulls away your attention from the show you put on. "I'm home," He shouts in a sing-song tone. "and I got something for us!" Closing the door behind him and taking his time to take his shoes off. You lunge off the couch and walk through the living room/kitchen to where the main entrance of your newly shared home is.

"Hi baby. Whatchu get?" You try getting on your tippy-toes to look around his frontside. He was attempting to hide something in his jacket but wasn’t doing a very good job as he was revealing the surprise to anyone in front of him. Satoru giggles, doing his best to not just show the cute kitten he's got on his detour to his lover. "Hey!" dragging out the 'y' when he still doesn’t show you what he's hiding. "Show me already Satoru!" You grab onto his sleeve, starting a small tug of war with him and his arm. Finally you pull him to face your direction with all your might, all he says is a quick 'tada' before presenting the small orange kitten to you in his large hands. "Oh my god.." Your jaw drops for a moment. Before you can register what's going on you're grabbing the kitten out of Satoru's hands.

"Be careful!" He jokes.

"I know. Oh my god Toru. I can't believe this! I've literally been wanting an orange cat for so long!" The smile on your face is more than worth it to Satoru.

"The worker said that this was one of their favorite cats in the store and she's such a little cuddle bug." Satoru laughs at the employees words, enjoying the view of the new responsibility. "She was climbing all over me on the walk home. She's a cutie, just like you sweetie."

"Aww. Really? That's so cute!" Your smiling so hard its starting to hurt but your certain your already in love with this kitten Satoru got. "I love her!" Cuddling the kitten up to your face you feel her purring lightly. Satoru feels a rush of heat flow through him as he watches his girlfriend with the small animal. His smile is also starting to hurt his face but he doesn’t care.

"What should we name it?" Satoru grabs your waist and pulls you into him. He has the perfect view of his girl and his kitty.

"It! Satoru!" You pet the kitten comfortingly as if it understood Satoru's comment. He rolls his eyes, giggling at the face you make and taking the chance to pull you closer. "We should name her.. hmm" You look down at the kitten to see if it'll ignite any ideas in your brain. "How about-"

"How about we name it Suguru?" Satoru chuckles.

"Shut up. We aren't naming her Suguru." You roll your eyes which only making Satoru laugh larger. "We need to pick a cute name, not our dead best friends babe." He juts out his bottom lip. He looks so cute that it makes you laugh. Your laugh always makes Satoru's heart do cartwheels, it makes him feel lightheaded knowing that he's the one making you laugh or smile. He drops his head to your shoulder, nuzzling his face into your neck. The kitten puts its small paws on his face, causing another cute laugh from you. "Aww, you look so cute together." He smiles at your comment, bringing one hand up from your waist to pet the kitten. "Let's name her Honey. Because her furs the color of honey, and she's super sweet." There's no response, you only feel Satoru nod and his hair tickling you from in your neck. You're sure you haven't dropped the smile from your face since Satoru walked through the door. Who would have guess he would have gotten you the kitten you've been wanting to get yourself for years. You always put it off due to work, worried that you wouldn't be home enough to actually take care of a kitten. Now with Satoru around it will be much easier to raise an animal. His warm breath against your neck and collar bones is relaxing, and the view of him petting and admiring your new kitten is causing butterflies in your stomach. You let out a satisfied hum as it seems life could never be better than it is now. Finally moving in with your long-term boyfriend, having a beautiful home, a stable job, and now a new pet to top it off. It truly feels like you are starting a family with Satoru after all these years..

Would y'all be interested in a part 2?

#gojo satoru x reader #satoru gojo x reader #gojo x reader #satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #gojo satoru #satoru gojo #jujutsu kaisen satoru #gojou satoru x you #gojou satoru x reader #gojou satoru x y/n #jjk satoru #satorugojo #fluff #satoru fluff #gojo fluff #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff

[byunpum]

EXPERIMENT 56 [your time is coming] sequel

AVATAR MASTERLIST | EXPERIMENT 56 masterlist

PAIR: Neteyam x Human reader. ( a mix of human and Navi )

Other pairs: Quaritch x reader (platonic) , sully fam x reader.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

SUMMARY: Y/N thinks she has a peaceful life with her new family. But a sudden visitor is about to change her life and her family's life.

WARNINGS: 18+, the characters are aged up 20's, a little violence, don't worry no one dies, Y/N and neteyam being parents , Bestie stuff, Family moments, jealousy,

Note: Ok, I thought a lot about posting this sequel, but since I love my own story, I wanted to continue it. I recommend everyone to read the first part of "experiment 56" so you can understand everything. Still, I hope you like this pilot a lot. If this post is well-received, I will continue the story.

"Are you sure you want to go alone?" asks neteyam holding noah't to his chest. "Yes, don't worry I'll be fine" you say as you continue getting ready to go out to pick some fruits. It wasn't just any fruit, it was a very special fruit that bore its fruits a bit far from the village. This made neteyam a little nervous, but it made you excited. It had been a long time since you had gone adventuring alone and the simple fact of searching for a fruit excited you.

Since you had become a mother, all your time and space was for noah't. It wasn't like neteyam wasn't there. He was always helping you, taking care of you and the baby. But noah't had a very strong attachment to you. Neytiri told you that this was normal, she commented how loak was very attached to her when he was a baby, this was transitory. You knew this was the best time to go out, as noah't was taking his midday nap. "He's already eaten, he's clean…so I'll leave you two alone" you say going over to give neteyam a kiss. You knew he was worried, he still hadn't gotten over the previous events of your loss. And knowing that you were going to be alone in the jungle terrified him.

"What if someone goes with you? Why don't you tell loak" neteyam stops and thinks a little clearly. " No, loak no…but if you tell kiri or spider to accompany you?" neteyam has his hand holding you, gently stroking your fingers, you give him a grumpy look. You hated it when he got like this, nothing was going to happen to you. Everything had gotten better, the altercations with the RDA had lessened, they were in their zone and you were in yours. Also, you weren't going to get too far away. "Neteyam… kiri is busy with mo'at. Spider is eywa know where. I'll be fine" you give her a quick kiss, and run out of your hut.

Neteyam stayed quiet watching you run out of the hut. Yes he was worried, but he knew you were going to be fine. You were a strong woman and you knew how to defend yourself, maybe you were right. He was being a little overprotective. So he decided to lie down for a while with his son, it was one of the few days he didn't have to do anything. He walked over to the bed, this was a large hammock, which you insisted on having and which neteyam was forced to put up. He climbed up carefully, and placed his little baby next to him and close to his chest. He snuggled further into the bed and slowly zeroed his eyes.

Meanwhile, not far away you are walking peacefully through the jungle of Pandora. Enjoying the feel of the grass on your feet, the clean air and the coolness of the forest. Wow, you missed this… to be preoccupied for at least several hours. You knew you had to go back, noah't was going to get up and get hungry. That baby ate too much. And you couldn't stand to be away from him for more than 3 hours. You knew neytiri would calm him down, but you knew you had a curfew anyway. But enjoying your free time, you started running, faster and faster.

You picked up some fruits, and put them in a bag that you had hung on your waist. You also took the opportunity to take some feathers that some animals had left behind, these were perfect for the new outfit you were making for noah't. You were in your little bubble, until your ears heard a strange noise, it was familiar but strange. You crawl along the floor, trying to hide from whatever was making that noise. You took your time to analyze the noise, it was loud breathing and cursing that you could hear softly. Ok, it was something you could recognize, whatever it was was speaking one of your languages.

You got closer, hiding in the branches trying to see what creature was making that noise. As you got closer you could see the figure of a navi, it had military clothes, and it was not similar to the scientist's navis and it was kneeling on the ground… it seemed to be searching for something. You hide more in the bushes. What were the recoms doing near the village. This was worrying you… They weren't supposed to be around, that was the deal. You didn't think long and took your bow and pointed it at the target. You weren't going to risk it, this avatar could be dangerous for you and your family. The only ones who knew where you were was… wait.

You were standing there, with the bow ready to shoot the arrow, when you remembered who you had told about your location. Of course, he had to be the only one. Quaritch?…it couldn't be. The last time you communicated with him was seven months ago. That's when he saw your baby for the first time, after that encounter…you didn't hear from him. Why was he here? Were there more of them in the area? Was he going to betray you?

You lower the bow and start to look at the situation, the man was so into what he was doing that he didn't realize that you were just 6 feet away. "He's a dummy" you think to yourself, as you watch him get up. And you see how one of his hands is stuck to his chest and you can see blood. You could analyze the expression of pain on his face, and you can see how other parts of his body were hurt. They were like burns. You stop in your tracks… you had an inner fight, your instinct was telling you to stay away. But on the other hand you wanted to help him. What's the worst that could happen if you got caught again? He wasn't going to hurt himself just for the fun of it?

So you move a little closer and speak softly, but with worry. "Quaritch? Is that you?" you speak, this makes the man turn around quickly looking for the location of the voice. And there you could confirm that he did not have any kind of weapon, he is very hurt. His eyes were pained, worried, lost. "Y/N?" Quaritch, he spoke with a broken voice… he was about to cry. You slowly came out of your hiding place, and as soon as your figure was in sight. The man took several steps and was on the floor on his knees in front of you. You didn't know what was happening, you had never seen him like this.

"Finally I find you!!!" he let out a gasp. "What is happening to you? Why are you like this?" you ask, lifting his face in your hands. You were analyzing his wounds, how his clothes were full of blood. "They… they got rid of us" he speaks, as you watch his eyes fill with tears. He was scared, harmless and hurt. You could even guess that he was dehydrated. "But who did this? Why are you here?" you want to stay calm, but it was almost impossible. You watch as he collapses completely on the ground, he is sitting with his head down. He groans in pain. "Everyone…Y/N, everyone is dead" Quaritch looks up. You sit down in front of him, you didn't want to touch him too much.

"Hey, why don't we go to a safe area…get you all patched up and drink some water" you invite him, taking his free hand. Making him get up from the ground. Quaritch just looked you in the eyes, and nodded. You couldn't leave him here. He was your friend, he was hurt and you knew that if you left him here in the condition he was in he would die in less than 4 hours. He was in a very bad condition. Of course, you couldn't take him to the village. Neteyam would be furious and so would your father. And your mother…she was going to kill him. So as you slowly walk through the forest holding his hand making sure he was okay. You decide to take him to the beach, it wasn't too far and there you had a little shelter.

It was a refuge that you used from time to time. You used to go there with neteyam and noah't, it was also your space to go and take care of your ilu and spend time with him. No one used to go to your seaside shelter, so it was perfect for Quaritch to take refuge. While you were thinking of a better plan. They were getting closer and you could hear his breathing and how exhausted he was feeling. "We're close…hang in for a little while." As you reached the beach, you pulled him inside the small hut. You could see your ilu, poking his head out to greet you. You signaled with your hands for him to look for a type of sea clam, which was used to heal wounds. This had been taught to you by Tsireya, to train your ilu to follow command and even to know how to search.

Quaritch sat on a kind of bed. You approached him and lifted his face. "Hey…have some water?" you offer him water from a clay jar. He took it in a hurry, you could tell he had been like this for days. "Now…take off that dirty shirt, while I go prepare everything to heal those wounds" you speak, while you see that the man only obeys you. This was a new behavior for you, the Quaritch you knew was a strong, intimidating man, but now he was so vulnerable. You took some herbs that you had nearby. You had them here, in case an accident happened, you would be ready. All that was left was for your ilu, to shred the clams you needed.

"Hi'i will be back soon" you say. "Who is Hi'i?" asks Quaritch, he had finally spoken. "It's my ilu" you say. "And cupcake?" he asks, looking you in the eye. You move closer and wipe some blood from between his eyebrows with a tissue. "He's in the village, with the other ikran. It's okay…but you" there is silence and you can see his eyes fill with tears. Before he speaks, you hear Hi'i's roar. You run out to the coast, and see that Hi'i had several shells in his mouth. "Ahhh thank you precious… thank you very much" you thank him. Running back to prepare the medicinal paste that mo'at had taught you. Quaritch watches you work quietly. And then you stand up and begin to place the paste on her injured skin. "I don't want to clean it too much, because it has already created its own layer…but this will help with the inflammation and remove bacteria," your hands dab at the skin. And you listen as Quaritch moans, but you notice how he is relaxing.

"It hurts…but it feels good" you say, watching as you carefully place more on his arm. You find some cloths and wrap them up. "Now…tell me what happened? Why are you here…you know one of the warriors could have killed you" you speak, as you continue to work on other wounds. "They have decided against us…we are no longer useful to them. They sent us on a routine 'mission'…it was all right, my squad is fine. I got a message from General Ardmore saying that our service was good, but they needed new equipment. Out of nowhere the helicopter exploded" Quaritch speaks, while you are sitting in front of him you couldn't believe what you were hearing. "When I got up… they were all dead. Everything was destroyed" he lowers his head, you can see the tears fall to the floor. "And Lyle?" you ask. You didn't know the others in the group. But you did know Lyle, he was a great friend of yours. "He didn't survive…" Quaritch can see your hand go to your mouth, looking to calm you down. You get up and give him a hug. "I'm so sorry…" you are crying.

"That's why I came looking for you… you are the only person I have left alive, the one I can trust" Quaritch says, you hug him again. You couldn't hold back your tears. Your mother is right, humans can be so cruel, how they can kill living creatures for no reason. "And what are you going to do next?" you look up, you were already picking up some things. "I don't know… if I go near the base they will kill me" he speaks, you can see how confused he is. "Why don't you spend the night here, here…it's some fruit" you take out the fruit you had picked from your bag. "I'll come tomorrow and we'll talk about everything" you explain. "But no one will come here" Quaritch stands up, he is scared and defensive. You take his hand and calm him down a little, making him sit down again. "No, this place is secret…it's mine" you say, looking for some clothes for Quaritch to change and make him more comfortable. "Won't you stay?" he asks. " I can't…neteyam and noah't are waiting for me" you laugh a little, you see how his ears perk up with surprise. "It's true…you have a family. I bet the baby is precious" Quaritch says while playing with his hands. He did that when he was nervous. "Yes…it's gigantic. Literally gigantic" you say.

Before you leave the hut, you give him one last hug. "See you tomorrow…I'll be back" you say, as you leave the hut. You see that the sky is getting dark, how long you have been there. It was very late… it doesn't take you long to get to the village. You run quickly to the hut you shared with neteyam, when you enter you see jake playing with noah't while neteyam is preparing the dinner. "Honey you're finally here" says Jake, he was lying on the floor letting his grandson play on top of him. "H-hello dad…what are you doing here?" you ask nervously. If anyone found out that you were helping one of the clan's greatest enemies, in your hut on the coast, they would kill you. They were going to kill you.

"I came to visit you…I can't?" asks Jake, he noticed how nervous you were. After all…he was your father, he raised you. He knew your every moves. You walk over to neteyam, who is cutting up various foods. He is sitting down, so you hug him from behind. Trying to change the subject. "Of course you can dad, I was just asking," you say, as you continue to hug Neteyam. Neteyam moves his head, to kiss your hand which is hugging his neck. "Love…you smell blood, did you get hurt?" everyone stops what they are doing, even jake holds noah't so he can look at you. "It's nothing…it's a scratch. Look…I didn't get any fruit" you lift your shoulders, while giving neteyam a kiss on the back. "Well… but you're okay, right?" he looks up to study you. You give him a small smile and lean in to kiss him on the lips. "Love, I'm fine…just a little tired. I've been looking for the fruit all day and nothing" you pull away from neteyam, moving closer to take noah't in your arms.

"My baby…you must be very very hungry" you say, settling Noah't on your chest, so that he can feed. Jake watches you, he knows you are hiding something. "Honey, is everything okay?" Jake asks again. "Yes daddy…" you look away quickly. "Well…I'll leave you two alone. Rest kids" jake says as he gets up, gives you a kiss on the forehead and a squeeze on the shoulder to his oldest son. Jake was so proud of you guys, you had grown up so much, you already had a family.

Neteyam gets up and walks a little bit to be in front of you. Your gaze was lost, you had noah't suckling you, while you were rocking from side to side. Neteyam comes closer to kiss you on your forehead. "Y/N do you have something to tell me?" neteyam asks, he knows you were not well. First you didn't come with fruits, second... you smelled like another man.

I hope you guys don't mind me putting you on the taglist, since you were always supporting the first part of 'experiment 56'. I think it's only fair that you know about the sequel, first of all.

Neytiri babies: @st4rrry @valeriinee @inutheangel @gielrmn @sloppierjewel @purple7theparty @itscheybaby @ssc7514 @namorslit @ducks118 @tpwkstiles @elli-aesthetics @nao-cchi @uselessbutinteresting @msjae @austynparksandpizza @gamorxa @andyyy4444 @itssomeonereading @meivap @barbii04 @mm-nope @dorck26 @nessrin @purple7theparty @ssc7514 @sloppierjewel @yeosxxx @legendleopard100 @pandoragalora @jayzes-blog @ducks118 @kyriekurokami @heesoftiefreak @teamanime @d4rno @dumb-fawkin-bitch-bitch @burdeningbitch @allsouls-emma @aceofheartzzz @famousbagelhandspurse @fanficblogs @lilyofthetigers @mjnij @laylasbunbunny

@cherrywinesab @sloppierjewel @bubbleguppy0315 @ellielovesrobinarellano @mrs-sullys-blog @lovekeeho @vectoriscommitingcrimes @kimtaehussy @bimbotinkerbell  @aceofheartzzz @d4rno @3okutos-3ig-toe @bxnnywriting @anarcoirisgatuno @allsouls-emma @luna-ann @vivendominhahistorias @neteyamsgirll @yeosxxx @naynay2808

@neytirisgf @meivap @gamorxa @nuttyrebelflower @lovelyygirl8

#avatar the way of water #avatar 2022 #avatar x reader #avatar x you #avatar x y/n #neteyam sully #neteyam #neteyam x reader #neteyam x you #neteyam x y/n #neteyam x human reader #neteyam x fem reader #neteyam x mate reader #neteyam imagine #human reader #human y/n #female y/n #quaritch x human reader #miles quaritch x reader #recom quaritch #spider x reader #spider socorro #jake sully x reader #kiri x reader #loak x reader #neytiri x reader #neytiri x human reader

[starlostastronaut]

DAY 23 | HOLD BOTH YOUR HANDS

PAIRING: han jisung x reader

GENRE: fluff

WC: 0.67k

CW: nothing

PROMPT: "you are my new pillow"

if you followed this series from the start, you might know the prompt was different. that's because i liked the idea i got for the original prompt so much, i wanted to turn it into an actual fics and not rushed story under 1k. this one is very short, but hopefully the fluffines will make up for it. enjoy reading <3

title from sweater weather - the neighbourhood

general masterlist here

<< previous | mctc masterlist | next >>

“Jisung? Jisung, come on, you need to move,” you groaned, trying to push your boyfriend off of you. He had been laying on top of you ever since he came back from the studio, which was at least half an hour ago. He hadn't moved or fallen off despite you squirming under him, which was honestly admirable, so you let him. But now your bladder was starting to make itself known, so you restarted the attempts at pushing him away. “I'll be right back, I promise, Ji. I just need to use the bathroom, and then you can lay on me again,” you pleaded. Jisung seemed to consider your proposal, which almost made you smack him with a pillow. What was there to consider in such a request? Thankfully, he moved away soon, and you sprinted from the bed in the direction of the bathroom.

You came back to a pouty rapper on your bed. “You seriously won't survive for five minutes without me, will you?” you mocked him, but there was no malice in your tone, and Jisung knew. Your eyes were overflowing with fondness and affection for him, as they were every time you looked at the rapper. “You're so fucking whipped for him, always giving him the heart eyes,” Minho remarked one day before you and Jisung got together. “Shut up,” you whined then, but now you had to admit Minho was right after all. At least you weren’t alone in that pit, Jisung too had the disgustingly in-love expression whenever you were in the same room, as his members liked to point out to tease him.

You walked back to the bed, where Jisung patiently waited. “You threaded your fingers into his hair, gently massaging his scalp as he leaned into the touch and closed his eyes in contentment. You smiled and moved to kneel on the bed next to him. Your hand never stopped its ministrations, which turned out to be a rather difficult task as you tried to keep your balance climbing onto the bed, but somehow you managed. Resting your back against the wall behind your bed, you pulled Jisung into your lap. His head found its place in the place where your shoulder met your neck, and he sighed, completely relaxed. You circled your arms around his waist, keeping him in place. Not that he would ever try to run away, in fact, Jisung said on multiple occasions that you were his favourite pillow. You just liked to hold him, enjoying how small he felt in your embrace. With his eyes closed, his face buried in your neck, and his chest slowly rising and falling, he looked so much younger and more vulnerable than he was. A sense of possessiveness lit up in your chest, along with the need to protect him from everything. 

You leaned down to place a few kisses in his hair. That action made Jisung smile, and you only held him tighter. Jisung sleepily suggested watching some anime, claiming to be too tired to do anything but still awake enough to not fall asleep. You agreed. Keeping one hand around his body, you, by some miracle, managed to place the laptop onto the bed before maneuvering both of you to lie on your sides. You wrapped around Jisung's back like a koala while he searched for a show to watch. 

You barely got to the end of the first episode before you could hear his soft snoring. “Not tired my ass,” you scoffed. As if he heard you, Jisung made a disapproving sound in his sleep, and you rushed to stroke his hair comfortingly, muttering apologies in between placing kisses on his neck and shoulder, ushering him deeper into his sleep through the gentle touches. When you were sure he wasn't going to wake up, you moved the laptop away and settled more comfortably behind him. Reaching for a blanket, you covered both of you and closed your eyes, drifting off to sleep not long after.

taglist: @stayconnecteed @saintriots @vivioluh @ivaneedssleep @jazziwritesthings @darkypooo @sleepyleeji

©starlostastronaut 2023 | do not repost/translate my work without permission

#moony's countdown to christmas #mctc #stray kids x reader #han jisung x reader #han jisung #fluff

[sourwolf-sterek32]

Found You- Part 3

Summary: Nearly 10 years ago, you left home after a bad incident with your parents, Rick and Lori Grimes. In that time, you married a redneck down south and started a family. But it all came crashing down when the dead started to walk.

Pairings: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 11.3k

Warnings: language,

PART 1 - PART 2

A/N- Surprise... there's a Part 3! I would just like to thank my fantastic follower who commissioned for another part to this Grimes-Dixon clan fanfic! I really hope she likes this❤️

*Months later*

Life on the road had been rough to say the least.

Hours upon hours of walking each day, trekking miles through the woods and old bitumen roads in search of somewhere safe. Although, you had been starting to believe that such places were non-existent in this new world.

You had found Beth along the way, and then lost her once again. Father Gabriel and Noah had now joined your little group that wasn't so little anymore, but you had also lost Bob and Tyreese. And just to add salt to the wound, Eugene faked the entire story about the vaccine.

There was no cure.

This was what the world was and there was no fixing it. There was no making it better. There was no anything. It was just the dead and the living. That was it.

Morale amongst the group had depleted rapidly after learning that.

Food and water were becoming harder to find, even game to hunt seemed to be more scarce. For a while, you began wondering how the group could survive much longer, how your kids could survive much longer out in the harsh elements of Mother Nature, until Aaron and Eric Raleigh entered your lives.

Alexandria. The tall steel walls of the community towered over you, the iron and barred gate slowly rolled open as Aaron and Eric led you towards their home. There was a man holding the gate with a rifle, his weary eyes raking over you and your family with a disapproving look on his face.

Aaron and Eric turned to face you once they reached the gate, but sudden rustling and squealing caught everyone's attention.

Your handgun was drawn so quickly, safety flicked off with your thumb and finger hovering over the trigger while you scanned the side of the road for any threats. Glenn and Sasha beside you had their rifles drawn too.

With your free hand you ushered Ricky and Dean behind you. They had become accustomed to life on the road, knowing when to do as they're told and not argue and when to shut up when a threat was near. They have had to grow up so fast since the end of the world, but it was for their own protection.

The boys moved quickly, standing behind you for safety. Little Dean grabbed onto the back of your shirt like he had been taught to do while Ricky held his brother’s hand, peaking around your body to see what was causing the raucous.

In a matter of seconds, Daryl had his crossbow raised and fired a bolt at something hiding in the tall grass. An animal. It was just an animal.

You and the others all lowered your weapons with a sigh of relief while Daryl stepped forward, looking down at the creature he just shot before he glanced over his shoulder.

"Boys, come here."

Ricky looked up at you with a questioning look, awaiting permission to leave the safety spot behind you. You gave him a small encouraging nod before he pulled Dean along with him as they rushed over to Daryl.

"What's that?" Daryl asked, pointing at the animal in the grass that you couldn't see.

"It's an opossum!" Dean answered enthusiastically.

"That's right. What do we do with opossums?"

"We gut 'em, skin 'em and cook 'em." Ricky explained, looking up at his father who had a proud look on his face.

"Those boys are definitely Dixon's." Abraham commented causing you to chuckle softly.

"Look!" Ricky called out, picking up the dead animal by its tail and holding it up in the air for everyone to see.

Daryl smiled softly at his son before he glanced around at the others and you noticed that Aaron, Eric and the man with the rifle were all watching on with shocked looks on their faces.

"We bought dinner." Daryl said, breaking the silence.

"It's okay." Aaron reassured, staring at the man with the rifle before he looked back towards the rest of you. "Come on in, guys."

You all followed him into Alexandria, the iron gate sliding shut behind you.

Pristine houses lined the streets of settlement. The front yards and gardens around the community were all neat and upkept, the grass freshly mowed, and hedges trimmed like you would have expected for a fancy neighbourhood like this back in the old world, but not now.

It was as if the world outside these walls didn't exist. You felt like you had stepped back in time.

This place, this community, it didn't feel real.

Rick had disappeared to go speak with Alexandria's leader, Deanna. It wasn't long before he returned, and seemed satisfied that this place was okay, at least for now anyway.

You were all instructed to hand over your guns, Deanna insisting that if you wanted to go outside the walls then you could take them back, but whilst inside the community they were not allowed. Nobody asked for your knives though, so none of you said anything or mentioned it, and somehow Daryl managed to keep his crossbow, so you weren't entirely defenceless.

"Both of 'em?" Rick asked, looking between the two large houses across the road.

"At your disposal." Aaron answered with a smile. "Listen, I know you're still feeling us out, but I'm glad you came. Anyway, Deanna's asked everyone to give you your space, so they aren't all coming at you at once. Take your time. Explore."

You glanced over at your father who was still staring at the houses in shock, and you smiled, looking over at Aaron, "thank you. We really appreciate it."

"Anytime. If you need anything, you call me... I mean, I don't- we don't have phones. I meant, I'm four houses down." He hurriedly clarified.

Rick nodded, "thank you."

"Deanna would like to speak to the rest of you individually. She specifically asked for Rick's daughter... uh, I don't think she means the baby, so I'm afraid I don't know who that is."

"It's me."

Aaron's eyes flicked over to you in surprise, "wait, really?"

"I was an accident." You explained with a grin causing Rick to glare at you.

"Y/N-"

"Was I not?" You asked, raising your eyebrows at your father who sighed causing you to chuckle.

Aaron dropped you off at Deanna’s place while the rest of the group explored the new houses.

You paused in the doorway taking in the family photos hanging from the walls and bookshelves stacked top to bottom with various books and knickknacks. This house... it was untouched. It was exactly like the old world. It was exactly like your old house.

"Hello, I'm Deanna Monroe." A woman’s voice suddenly said, startling you out of your thoughts.

The woman in question was standing in the living room to your right, and you mentally cursed yourself for not checking your surroundings first before entering.

You scanned the room briefly, noting every door and window before you turned your attention to Deanna and gave her a small nod of acknowledgement.

"And you must be Miss Grimes, correct?"

"Dixon."

"Beg your pardon?"

"I'm a Dixon now. Y/N Dixon." You explained, stepping into the room cautiously.

Deanna smiled, "you mind if I film this, Mrs. Dixon?"

"Huh?"

"Do you mind if I film our talk, Mrs. Dixon?" She repeated, motioning towards a video camera that was set up across the room on a tripod.

Mrs. Dixon.

That was a name you hadn't heard since the dead began walking.

"Uh, yeah, sure."

Deanna motioned towards the couch in front of the camera and you nodded, taking a seat on the plush sofa that had no right being so comfortable.

"How long have you been out there?"

You hesitated for a moment before answering, "since the beginning."

Rick didn't specifically tell you what to say to Deanna, but you figured it was probably best to not mention the whole Woodbury, Governor, prison and Terminus stuff.

"How did you all find each other? Did you know each other before or-"

"Some of us did. Others we found along the way." You answered and Deanna nodded.

"I was a congressperson. Ohio, 15th district. You?"

"I used to be a caregiver in a nursing home." You answered, staring at her for a moment before you glanced out the window looking at the tall fence in the distance. "Our old lives don't matter anymore. What is this place?"

"Most of this was already here. The solar grid, the houses, eco-based sewage filtration. My husband Reg is a professor of architecture. And who he was mattered quite a bit. He built these walls with our sons, and after a few weeks more people arrived. We built this community."

"Hold on, you've been behind these walls this entire time?" You asked in shock, and she nodded. "And you guys just take people in?"

"We try to."

"That's dangerous."

"How so?"

"There are a lot of bad people out there."

"Is your group part of that bracket, Mrs. Dixon?"

Probably. You had all done things, horrible things to survive. In the eyes of someone else, yeah, you guys were probably bad people, but like hell you were telling her that.

"We're just people trying to survive."

Deanna smiled, "then you've come to the right place."

-

You returned to the two houses that Aaron had assigned your group. Everyone was inside the larger house though, Rick stating that you all needed remain together and not split up, especially on the first night.

Everyone was lying about in the lounge room, spread out on the various couches and carpet, giving their sore feet a break after all the walking you had done in the past few months.

Eugene was already asleep on the single seated couch, snoring softly while the others talked quietly amongst themselves. Maggie stood in front of a bookshelf, looking at the various novels stacked inside, and you made a mental note to check that out later.

Ricky and Dean were sitting on the floor by Abraham's feet playing with what looked to be a couple of action figures. Daryl sat on the floor a few metres away, his back leaning against the wall while he watched the boy’s play.

"That shower was so good!" Carl's voice suddenly said.

You spun around quickly, looking over at your brother who was now wearing fresh, new clothes, but it was his wet hair and clean skin that caught your attention.

"Did you just say shower?" You asked.

"And hot water." Rosita informed from her spot on the couch beside Abraham and your jaw dropped. "It's like heaven."

They had hot showers.

Holy shit, you were never leaving this place.

"She's right. I would still be in there right now if Glenn hadn't made me get out." Maggie commented over her shoulder. "There's fresh clothes in the bedroom upstairs. Find whatever fits, there's kid’s clothes too."

"C'mon, boys. You're way overdue for a bath."

"I don't want a bath." Ricky mumbled, not looking at you while he continued playing with his toys.

"I don't want one too." Dean added who at least had the decency to look over at you before going back to playing with his toys.

"You both need one. Come on."

"No."

"Nope."

Out of all the traits they could have gotten from Daryl, they both got his stupid stubbornness. Perfect.

"I won't say it again. Come on." You instructed sternly.

"Dad and Uncle Merle haven't had one though." Ricky pointed out, looking over at them.

"Oh, they will afterwards, trust me."

"Bullshit." Merle coughed causing you to glare at him.

"I think I saw more of those action figures in the bathroom. I bet your mama would let you play with them in the bath." Carol suddenly said, walking down the stairs.

That seemed to catch your son's attention, their heads shooting up with wide eyes.

"We can play with them in the bath?" Dean asked almost sceptically.

"Yep. C'mon, I'll show ya." Daryl grunted, speaking for the first time as he stood up from his spot on the floor before he began to walk towards the stairs with both Ricky and Dean racing after him.

Carol chuckled, watching them go before she rested her hand on your shoulder, "using toys to lure them to the bath always works."

"Thank you." You sighed, glancing over at her. "I forgot how difficult bath time used to be."

"I think the world has dished out swift justice after all the times you cried when I tried to give you a bath." Your father suddenly said, walking into the room causing everyone to start laughing.

"Thank you for that." You said sarcastically and Rick just smirked.

You slowly made your way upstairs, finding the bedroom where piles of clothes were scattered over the mattress that you noted seemed to be freshly made with blankets and pillows. You shifted through the clothes, finding some pants and shirts in your boy's sizes before grabbing a pair of jeans and a shirt for yourself.

By the time you entered the main bathroom, Ricky was already in the shower while Dean sat in the bathtub playing with his new toys in the water. Daryl was knelt beside the tub, his crossbow leaning against the wall while he washed Deans hair with shampoo.

Seeing the three of them like that took your breath away.

It was so domestic. So normal.

It felt like a typical Tuesday night in your house before the world ended.

You leant in the doorway for a few minutes watching them. Dean laughed whenever Ricky purposely splashed water up over the shower wall, spraying his little brother causing him to giggle happily in the tub, Daryl laughing along with them while he rinsed out the shampoo from Deans hair.

"Mama!" Dean called out happily when he noticed you hovering in the doorway.

Daryl glanced over his shoulder, his beautiful blue eyes meeting yours before he nodded towards the boys and you smiled, pushing yourself off the doorframe to help him.

It didn't take long before the boys were dried off and sporting new clothes. They raced back downstairs to show Uncle Merle their new toys leaving you and Daryl alone in the bathroom.

You walked over to the shower and pulled open the glass door before leaning inside and turning the taps, allowing water to fall from the showerhead above.

It took a few seconds for the hot water system to kick into gear and once it did, the cool water instantly turned warm under your fingertips.

You began to delayer, tossing your dirty threadbare clothes to the floor before you glanced over at Daryl and realised that he hadn't moved.

"You gonna join me?" You asked, unclasping the belt around your jeans.

"Nah."

You frowned, "why?"

He shrugged but didn't say anything else before he leant down and picked up his crossbow, throwing it over his shoulder with the strap.

"Daryl. Come on, a warm shower will be nice."

"M'good."

He was gone before you could say anything else, and you stared at the closed door in utter confusion.

There used to be showers back in the prison... they weren't the best in that old shower block, but Daryl still used to share a shower with you most nights. So why was he refusing now?

Shaking your head, you pushed that question from your mind and kicked your jeans onto the pile of clothes on the floor before stepping inside the shower.

The hot water felt like absolute heaven on your skin.

You stood under the spray of the warm water for a few minutes cleaning your body and washing your hair with shampoo that smelt like coconuts. It was nice. It was too nice.

Closing your eyes, you leant against the tiled wall and thought back to the journey the group had been on since the prison fell. The highs, the lows... mostly lows.

Your brain replayed your lowest point on the road, over and over again. Like some sick twisted horror movie that you couldn't escape.

It wasn't hordes of walkers. It wasn't even the evil survivors that were out there.

It was simply the harsh elements of Mother Nature.

Days and days without food while walking under the scorching Virginia summer heat. If you thought dealing with the cannibals at Terminus was bad, it was nothing compared to hearing your sons crying because they were hungry. That was a different kind of pain that no mother should ever have to endure.

"I'm so hungry." Dean whimpered, late one night while you were all laying under the stars trying to sleep.

"I know, sweetie." You sighed, rolling over to face him. "We will find food soon."

"What if we don't?" Ricky asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

That was the question, wasn't it?

"We will." You insisted, although you weren't sure if you were trying to convince him or yourself more.

"I've never been this hungry before. I... I'm just so hungry." Ricky whispered, his voice wavering slightly, and you knew your eldest was trying to stop himself from crying.

"I'm so hungry too." Dean sobbed, picking up on his brother's distress as he cried.

"Shh, boys. Shh, it's okay. It will all be okay." You soothed, reaching out and pulling your sons against your body.

Hot tears burned in the back of your eyes as you held them while they cried. Their soft whimpers and sobs muffled against your chest as they clung to you.

"It's all going to be okay. I promise. It's going to be okay." You whispered, silent tears now trickling down your face too.

Most of the group were fast asleep on the forest floor around you, oblivious to your children's distress, but when you tilted your head to the side you could see Daryl standing off in the distance on watch duty.

His body was lit up from the moonlight shining down through the canopy of trees above you, crossbow in one hand while he discreetly wiped his eyes with the other. He sniffed softly, glancing over his shoulder towards you, and even in the dark you could see the shimmer of tears in his eyes that matched your own.

You weren't sure how long you were in the shower for. You weren't sure when you had even sat down or started to cry while the water from above washed over you.

Eventually, you picked yourself up from the floor and got out. Drying off with a towel that was softer than anything you had ever felt before you slipped into the new clothes that you had grabbed earlier.

You spared a glance at yourself in the foggy mirror, relieved that your eyes weren't red from crying before you exited the bathroom and went back downstairs.

Only Merle was in the lounge room now, laying on the couch with his hands behind his head watching his nephews playing on the carpet with their toys.

Wait, where was everyone else? They were all here earlier. How long had you been in the shower for?

"Most of 'em are out explorin' the community." Merle informed as if he could somehow read your mind.

"You didn't want to join them?"

He shook his head, "nah."

You glanced over at your boys who were laughing and giggling, but then your eyes landed on the plastic plate sitting on the coffee table beside them with pieces of cut up apple on top.

"Some lady dropped off a whole damn basket of 'em. I already ate three of the stupid fruits myself, figured they'd want some too." Merle explained, noticing what you had been staring at.

"Thank you."

"Eh, don't thank me yet, they haven't eaten any. Carl gave 'em chocolate earlier so they didn't want fucking fruit after that, did they?" Merle muttered, glaring at his nephews, but there was no real heat behind it and the boys weren't listening anyway.

"Still, thank you." You said sincerely. "Do you know where Daryl is?"

"Porch."

You nodded, glancing at your boys for a moment before you turned and walked out the front door to find Daryl sitting on the porch steps gutting the opossum.

"I hated it when you'd gut animals near the house." You commented, closing the door behind you as you leant your back against it. "It used to take me so long to scrub the blood off our porch."

Daryl's lips twitched up into a small smile at the memory as he ripped the last of the guts out before stabbing the end of the knife into the wooden board beside him and glanced over at you.

"This ain't our house."

"It could be."

Daryl held your gaze for a moment, a wave of emotion flashing across his face, but he looked away before you could decipher any of it.

To most people, they wouldn't have noticed that something was wrong, but you knew Daryl. His shoulders were a little too tense and you could see him biting his thumb nail, a telltale sign that he was worried about something.

He yanked his knife out the wood and went back to the opossum, busying himself with skinning the animal while you watched him silently.

"Everything okay?" You eventually asked when you realised that he wouldn't talk without being prompted.

"Mmm." He hummed, focusing on the task at hand.

"Wanna try that again but honest this time?"

Daryl sighed, lowering the half-skinned animal and glancing back at you.

"Just... being back behind walls. Don't feel right."

"You think this is like Woodbury?"

He shrugged, "dunno."

"Well, we got a roof over our boys heads and food in their stomachs. They're safe, fed and happy now. I think we should focus on that."

"Guess you're right." He agreed and you smiled.

"I'm always right." You shot back causing Daryl to snort softly which you were calling a win. "I'm gonna go back inside. Clean that shit up when you're finished."

Daryl chuckled softly, "yes, ma'am."

Merle was now passed out on the couch and snoring, but that didn't seem to faze the boys while they continued to play on the carpet nearby.

You walked into the room, plucking a few pieces of apple from the plate on the coffee table before you plonked yourself down on the couch beside Merle. There was no point trying to be quiet around him, that man could sleep through a damn hurricane.

Footsteps creaked on the stairs across the room before Rick emerged from the bathroom sporting a clean-shaven face. You had to do a double take when you first saw him, his thick greying beard now completely gone.

The last time you had seen your father without any facial hair was before the end of the world. Way before. You were still living at home, hell, you were still a teenager. You could almost picture him sitting across the dinner table in his Deputy uniform with that clean-shaven face.

"Grandpa, you look funny." Ricky called out when he noticed Rick emerging from the bathroom.

Your father opened his mouth to respond, but no words came out. His eyes widened ever so slightly before his head shot in your direction in shock.

They had just called him Grandpa for the first time.

Holy shit.

"What? You boys don't like it?" He asked, seemingly able to snap out of his shock quicker than you could.

Ricky and Dean both shook their heads causing Rick to sigh dramatically.

"Oh, come on. I worked hard on this masterpiece." He said, rubbing his hand along his jaw.

"Mama, Grandpa is being silly." Dean giggled, staring at Rick before glancing over at you and you couldn't stop the smile spreading across your face as you looked over at your father.

"Yeah, Grandpa is a bit silly, isn't he?"

Both boys hummed in agreement before going back to their toys and you stood up from the couch, eating the last piece of apple as you walked over to your father.

"That's the first time..." He trailed off, looking over at his grandkids with a warm smile.

"Feeling old now, Grandpa?" You teased, bumping your shoulder into his playfully.

Rick chuckled softly, "maybe I should've kept the grey beard."

-

You all slept in the lounge room together during the first night to be cautious. It was safer together, and honestly, after sleeping side by side in the woods for the last God knows how many days, it would've been weird sleeping away from them.

Everybody was sprawled out around the room on the couches and chairs. Blankets and pillows were laid out over the carpet as makeshift beds. Even a few bean bags had appeared out of nowhere, Carl, Ricky and Dean instantly claiming them as their beds for the night.

Rick insisted that there was no need for a watch duty, but you, Daryl and Merle still switched out throughout the night to keep watch just to be sure.

It wasn't needed though. Nothing happened during the night and by sunrise, everyone was slowly starting to wake up. It was the best sleep you have had in a long time, and by the refreshed looks on everyone's faces, they felt the same.

Ricky and Dean were running around on the grass in the front yard with Merle while you watched from the porch steps. For an older guy who smoked and drank for as long as you've known him, he was able to keep up with those two little balls of energy.

"Time to punch the clock and make the casseroles." Carol emerged from the front door, sporting a neat white blouse and blue button up cardigan.

"What?" Daryl muttered, frowning as he looked over at her from where he was sitting on the edge of the porch railing cleaning the strings of his crossbow.

"Make dinner for the older people, moms who need a break, people who can't cook. Get to meet a lot of neighbours that way."

Daryl scoffed, "alright."

You rolled your eyes, "I think it's a good idea. Is that the job Deanna assigned you?"

"Yeah, has she given you guys one yet?" Carol asked, looking over at you, but you shook your head. "She will soon. Don't worry." She insisted before glancing back at Daryl, "have you taken a shower yet?"

Daryl nodded while he continued fiddling with his crossbow despite that being a very obvious lie. Carol's eyes narrowed in his direction, but she didn't call him out on it.

"He takes after his brother who hasn't had a shower yet either!" You pointed out, saying the last part loudly and catching your brother-in-law's attention.

"How the fuck did I get dragged into this?" He exclaimed, looking over at you.

"Language." You reminded glancing at your sons nearby who had already picked up too many of Merle's terrible habits and you did not want the F word to be one of them.

"Yeah, language, Uncle Merle!" Ricky teased.

"That's it. Come here you little turd." Merle took off running after Ricky who laughed and sprinted off in the opposite direction.

"Run, Ricky! Run!" Dean cheered between fits of giggles.

You rolled your eyes watching them play, Carol and Daryl watching on as well with small smiles on their faces.

"As annoying as that man is, he is good with your boys." Carol commented sincerely, walking past you down the stairs before she glanced back at Daryl. "I'm gonna wash that vest. We need to keep up appearances, even you."

"Hey, I ain't startin' now."

"I'm gonna hose you down in your sleep." Carol called out, walking off down the road.

"You look ridiculous!" Daryl shouted over his shoulder, and you covered your mouth with your hand to stop yourself from laughing.

The rest of the morning was spent exploring the community, all of you walking around and taking it all in... well, most of you did anyway. The Dixon brothers opted to stay at the house, and you knew better than to try and convince them otherwise.

Deanna had started to give some of your group members jobs. Others, she was still trying to figure out.

Glenn, Noah and Tara were the next ones to get their new roles which was scavenging and the three of them had left earlier for their first supply run with two Alexandrians. Although, when the group of them marched through the front gate a few hours later, it was clear that their first supply run hadn't went well.

"You three need knew gigs!" Aidan yelled, glaring at your three friends who were walking a few paces ahead of him. "You're not ready for runs yet."

"Yeah, pretty sure you got that backwards!" Glenn shouted over his shoulder and just by his tone of voice alone, you knew he was pissed.

It took a lot to make Glenn Rhee angry. And right now, he was definitely angry. What the hell happened out there?

You watched as Aidan jogged over to Glenn, grabbing his arm and stopping him in his tracks. You couldn't hear what they were saying, but Glenn seemed to be only getting angrier which was setting off alarm bells in your head.

Slowly, you began making your way over to them. Others in the area had seemed to notice the commotion as well but were keeping their distance while they observed Glenn and Aidan's rather heated discussion.

"Come on, tough guy." Aidan challenged, shoving Glenns chest.

"No one's impressed, man. Walk away."

Aidan didn't say anything else, he simply took another step forward until the two of them were toe to toe.

Oh, this was not going to end well.

"He told you to walk away." You said, pushing yourself between them.

Aidan glanced down at you, his eyes hardening.

“Walk away.” You repeated sternly.

"What is going on?" Deanna's voice suddenly questioned.

"This guy's got a problem with the way we do things." Aidan answered, glaring at Glenn over your shoulder before turning towards Deanna. "Why did you let these people in?"

"'Cause we actually know what we're doing out there." Glenn responded, stepping out from behind you.

Aidan turned around so fast, his fist flying, but Glenn blocked it and sent Aidan falling to the ground. A split second later, Nicolas rushed forward, but you stepped in front of him, stopping him from getting to Glenn.

Nicholas shoved you to the side, your body hitting the steel wall before you pushed yourself off and shoved him in retaliation. The man stumbled back a step, not expecting you to fight back with strength as he mumbled the word 'bitch' under his breath.

He took a step forward and you held your ground, standing up straighter ready for a fight, but then Daryl appeared out of nowhere and threw Nicholas to the ground, pinning him down on his back.

"That's enough!" Deanna shouted.

Daryl refused to let Nicholas go. His body trembling with rage as he wrapped his hands around the man's throat and squeezed. Nicholas gasped and choked for air, but Daryl didn't care, not after the man touched you.

Rick suddenly rushed over being drawn in by the ruckus and crowd that had seemed to double since you last took notice. Your father grabbed Daryl from behind, trying and failing to pull your husband off the Alexandrian.

"Let's not do this now." Rick hissed in his ear, but Daryl wasn't letting go. "Daryl!"

Rick managed to haul Daryl off of Nicholas and pushed your husband behind him and away from the man lying on the ground coughing. Daryl began to pace left and right angrily like a caged animal. Rick held his hand out, following Daryl's movement like he wasn't entirely sure if he would try and attack Nicholas again or not and you weren't too sure either, but Daryl was clearly worked up.

Nicholas got to his feet, coughing and spluttering before he took a step towards Rick who had his back turned, still trying to calm Daryl down and you quickly planted yourself between them.

"You wanna end up on your ass again? Back the fuck off." Your words seemed to work because the man simply nodded, still holding his neck as he took a few steps away.

"I want everyone to hear me, okay? Rick and his people are part of this community now in all ways as equals! Understood?" Deanna shouted, her eyes raking over the group of you before glancing over at the onlooking bystanders in the distance.

"Understood." Aidan nodded before him and Nicholas walked off.

Daryl stepped past Rick and rushed over to you, those blue eyes peeking out from behind his hair scanning your body for any signs of injury.

"I'm good." You placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. "I can take care of myself."

"I know." He answered, his voice rougher than usual but he meant it.

You gave him a small reassuring smile before you walked over to where the others were standing only just hearing the backend of whatever Deanna had been saying to Rick.

"I told you I had a job for you. I'd like you to be our constable. That's what you were. That’s what you are." Deanna says staring a Rick before looking over at Michonne. "And you, too. Will you accept?"

Rick nodded, "okay."

Daryl scoffed from somewhere behind you before he marched off down the road without a word. Rick looked over at him in confusion before glancing over at you with a questioning look.

You sighed, "I'll go talk to him."

It wasn't hard to find Daryl.

He was back at the house leaning against the railing of the porch, a deep frown plastered on his face.

You remain silent as you walked up the stairs, Daryl tracking your movements from the corner of his eye, but he didn't say anything. You leant your forearms over the railing beside him, overlooking the street of Alexandria.

There were a few people walking around. The elderly couple across the road were sitting on their porch swing together whilst a young man walked his dog on a leash down the street. It was still strange how normal this was.

"This place... I don't belong here."

Daryl's voice drew you from your thoughts and you tilted your head to the side to look at him, but he was staring off into the distance.

"What do you mean?" You asked gently.

"This." He said motioning to everything around him. "All this fancy shit. The houses, the people, it ain't me. It ain't us."

"We're too redneck for a fancy place like this?" You asked, raising your eyebrows at him.

"Ain't no way we could've afforded a house like this in a place like this back in the day. 'N all those people know it." He said, nodding at the few civilians wandering around.

So that's what his issue was. He felt like he didn't belong. That he was an outcast amongst these people.

"Oh, we definitely couldn't afford a place like this." You chuckled, trying to lighten his mood. "But our house was nice. I mean, we never had a two-story or a shower this big, but we got by. And we will get by here, I promise."

"It don't feel right."

"I know."

Neither of you said anything for a while before you spotted Carl, Ricky and Dean down the road with a few other kids that you had seen around town before. They were laughing and throwing a basketball together, their smiles so bright and laughter so loud that you could hear them from here.

It had been a long time since you saw them be normal children. It had been a long time since you saw them interact with other kids their age.

"The boys like it here." You pointed out.

Daryl lifted his gaze, spotting kids in the distance as he smiled softly and hummed in agreement.

"If this place doesn't work, we will figure it out and find somewhere else. But I need you to try. Give Alexandria a chance, if not for yourself then for them." You said, nodding towards your sons. "They deserve a place like this. And so do you."

-

It took the Dixon brothers a while to get used to living inside the community, taking them some time to adjust to the fancy buildings and judging eyes of many civilians who had never even stepped foot out in the real world.

It took the brothers a meal at Aaron and Erics house to finally start adjusting and relaxing inside this community. You weren't sure what the couple had said to them over bowls of spaghetti and wine, but whatever it was, you were grateful.

Within a few months, everyone was settled in. You all had your own jobs now, Merle and Abraham now working guard duty shifts at the front gate while Daryl worked with Aaron to seek out other survivors outside and recruit them if appropriate.

The two houses were split between you all. The Grimes-Dixon clan took ownership of the bigger house with Carol and Michonne getting their own bedrooms as well while the others took over the house next door.

There was a school for the kids to attend in the afternoon out of someone's garage. She was an older lady who used to be an elementary school teacher and was happy to take in your sons as new students.

Whilst your boys were at school in the afternoon, you worked alongside Carol cooking and caring for the elderly and people who couldn't care for themselves. It was strange how easy it was to slip back into your role as a caregiver after so many years working at that nursing home back before the world ended.

Ricky and Dean loved Alexandria. And the people of Alexandria seemed to love them too.

You were forever getting people commenting on how wonderful and beautiful your little boys were. They seemed be to the talk of the town, always running amuck and getting up to mischief. Daryl already had to fix the swing set on the playground because they had broken it. How they even managed to break it was a question you tried not to think about. "Afternoon, Mr. and Mrs. Dixon!" A friendly voice greeted.

You and Daryl both looked to your left to find two women sitting on the porch swing in front of their house while the two of you wandered down the main street, hand in hand.

"Good afternoon, ladies. It's a beautiful day, isn't it?" You greeted back happily, trying and failing to remember their names.

"It's stunning! Perfect weather for a book and wine." They both held up their novels and glasses of red for you to see causing Daryl to snort softly while you laughed.

"I think I will have similar plans when I get home too. Y'all have a good afternoon!" You shouted over your shoulder.

"Mr. and Mrs. Dixon... ain't ever gonna get used to that. Everyone's so damn formal here." Daryl commented softly, his hand squeezing yours.

"It's nice though. Formal, but nice."

He hummed in agreement while waving to old man Jenkins who was busy mowing his front lawn across the street. You smiled at how far Daryl had come since arriving at Alexandria all those weeks ago. He went from refusing to interact with anyone to now openly greeting his neighbours and helping out around the community.

The two of you strolled along the bitumen road, Daryl's hand still holding yours while you told him about your day at work with Carol. He nodded along listening while you spoke so enthusiastically about your new job, and he found himself smiling hearing how passionate and happy you were.

"Anyway, Mrs. McDonald was just the sweetest and- Oh, you have got to be shitting me." You cut off your own rambling and the smile on Daryl's face vanished at the shift in your tone.

You stopped in front of the steps to your house staring at the hole in the front window that definitely hadn't been there this morning when you left to walk the boys to school. Daryl followed your line of sight and sighed deeply when he noticed the broken window because he knew exactly what caused that stone shaped hole.

"I warned 'em not to use those slingshots in the damn house." Daryl muttered under his breath, but you were already marching up the steps and yanking open the front door.

"Richard Daryl Dixon! Merle Dean Dixon! Get your asses out here!"

There was a beat of silence before you heard Merle's voice from inside.

"Oh crap, BOTH names. Y'alls in trouble."

A few moments later, your sons appeared in the doorway with guilty expressions on their faces. Yep, they had definitely done it.

"Care to explain this?" You pointed towards the broken front window and the guilt on their faces doubled.

"It was an accident." Ricky sighed, knowing there was no point trying to lie about it.

"I thought I told ya both not to use the slingshots in the house." Daryl said, walking up the porch steps and stopping beside you, his hands firmly crossed over his chest.

Those damn slingshots. You knew it was a bad idea when Abraham made them for the boys last week.

"But Uncle Merle lets us use them inside." Dean whined causing Ricky to elbow his brother like that was a big secret he shouldn't have said aloud.

Merle.

Of course, he was the influence for this. When was he not?

"Merle Dixon, get your ass out here!" You shouted, looking over your sons head to the inside of the house.

"Ah shit." Merle muttered from further inside before he walked around the corner and appeared behind your boys. "What did I do now?"

"Care to explain?" You said, pointing at the broken window.

Merle glanced over at the window with a wince before looking back over at you.

"Nah, not really."

"You let 'em use the slingshots in the house?" Daryl asked, getting straight to the point. "Ya do remember how many broken windows we caused when we were kids, right?"

Merle smirked, "ah, the good old times."

"Boys go back inside. And never ever use those slingshots in the house again, understood?" You stated sternly and they both frantically nodded before rushing past Merle and disappearing in the house.

"It's just a window. Ain't the end of the world."

You sighed, "what if someone had been walking past when they broke it? That's dangerous. And you know it."

Merle rolled his eyes but knew better than to try and argue with you right now.

"Those boys, they look up to you. You're their big Uncle Merle, they practically worship you. So, everything you do and say, they wanna do and say as well. God knows we've heard Ricky utilize your bad language enough. You're their role model, and I love that, okay? I love you and I love your relationship with your nephews, but you cannot be teaching them bad habits while Daryl and I are trying to teach them the exact opposite."

Merle didn't say anything for a moment as he nodded, taking in your words.

"A broken window was probably the tamest shit you and I used to get up to, little brother. You remember all the shit we did as kids? Probably a good thing the old man was off on his benders all the time."

"Merle." Daryl warned, glaring at his brother.

Merle raised his hands, "fine, fine. I'm taking this shit seriously, I am. But Ricky and Dean, they're good kids is all I'm sayin'. Sure, they run about this settlement 'n make some of those uptight civilians crazy with their shenanigans, but if a few annoyed pricks 'n a broken window is the most of your troubles, that ain't bad."

That was a fair point.

Merle Dixon was actually making logical sense? Yeah, it really was the end of the world.

You sighed, "I know, just don't teach them anymore bad habits, okay?"

"Yes, ma'am." He nodded, glancing between you both. "Am I dismissed now?" He asked sarcastically.

Daryl snorted, "get the fuck outta here, bro."

Merle smirked, walking back inside before you sighed and leant against the pillar to your right while Daryl plonked himself down on the porch steps and lit a cigarette.

"Should we confiscate their slingshots for a few days?" You asked, unsure of how to go about punishing them for breaking the window.

Daryl shrugged taking a drag from his cigarette. "dunno. Reckon they feel bad enough 'bout it already."

"Yeah." You agreed with a small nod.

You never thought that a broken window would be your biggest problem when just a few weeks ago you were fighting for literal survival.

"Hey." Your fathers voice suddenly called out.

You looked over to find him walking towards the house with little Judith in his arms.

"There's my favourite Grimes!" You greeted, the slingshots long forgotten as you jogged past Daryl down the steps and scooped up your baby sister into your arms.

Rick chuckled softly, handing over Judith without a word before he walked over to Daryl while you rocked Judith on your hip. The girl cooed happily, reaching up and playing with the dog tags around your neck like she always did.

"Have you asked her yet?" You heard your father say to Daryl.

"Nah, now probably ain't the best time."

You frowned, looking over at the two of them, "ask me what?"

Daryl spared a quick glance at your father, the two of them having a silent conversation that you weren't a part of before he looked over at you.

"Was gonna ask if you were okay with us teachin' Ricky how to shoot a gun."

You opened your mouth to answer, but no words came out. A gun? Little Ricky shooting a deadly gun? No. No, absolutely not.

"But... but he's just a baby." You exclaimed causing Daryl to give you a pointed look and you sighed, "okay, he's not a baby. He's a child. He's my child. He's our little boy."

You weren't sure why, but you could feel tears starting to burn in the back of your eyes at the thought of your son needing to learn how to shoot. He was just a kid. He shouldn't have to learn how to fire a gun. He shouldn't have to worry about one day using a firearm to protect himself or his family. That was what you were for. You were there to protect him, you were his mother, it was your job to protect him, he shouldn't need to do it, not yet.

Daryl stood up from his spot on the steps and walked over to you, noticing the emotion washing over you. He grabbed your shoulder gently, but you refused to look at him. You focused on Judith in your arms, staring down at your baby sister who was oblivious to everything around her.

"Hey, it's okay." Daryl whispered, squeezing your shoulder gently. "Rick 'n Shane taught Carl how to shoot when he was Ricky’s age. He should at least be familiar with a gun if something bad happens 'n we're not there to protect him. Hell, Merle taught me how to shoot a rifle when I was younger than Dean. Ricky will be fine."

Forcing your tears not to spill, you reluctantly look away from Judith and your eyes lock with Daryl’s gentle blue ones.

"But you saw what happened with the slingshots today. You really want him with a gun?"

"He won't have a gun. We're just gonna take him outside the walls and teach him the basics under strict supervision."

You sighed and looked back down at Judith who was babbling nonsense in your arms happily.

"We might be safe in Alexandria for now, but we don't know what will happen in the future." Your father suddenly said, walking over to you. "It's not fair, but he should be prepared if it comes down to it. It's for his own safety."

"Okay, fine. But he won't even need to use one though because I'm always going to be there to protect him. To protect them both, and this little girl. Isn't that right, Judy?" You asked, looking back down at your baby sister who squealed happily when you bounced her up and down and you smiled sadly at her.

God, you were not ready for the day when you’d have to teach this baby girl how to shoot a gun. But that was a long way away, thank goodness.

-

"Rule number one about firearms, is what?" Your father asked, looking between Ricky and Dean after going over basic firearms safety with them for the last 20 minutes.

"Never point a gun at someone unless you plan on shooting them. Even if you think the gun is unloaded, never point it at anyone." Ricky answered, with a serious look on his face.

"And never put your finger on the trigger until you're ready to shoot!" Little Dean quickly added.

You watched on proudly from where you were standing off to the side. Carl stood beside you, listening in on Daryl and Rick teaching the boys while helping you keep an eye out for any danger. There had only been one stray walker stumble upon you guys which you easily took down with a knife to the head.

"Now, Dean, we're gonna show ya brother how to shoot this handgun. I want ya to listen ‘n watch carefully to everythin', okay? It is important to know and once you're his age, then we will take you back to the woods ‘n give you a shot as well, okay?" Daryl explained gently looking down at his youngest who simply nodded.

"Okay."

If you were being honest, you expected Dean to complain or argue about that. He always wanted to do whatever his big brother was doing, but you were relief that your youngest seemed to realise how serious this was.

Carl walked over to the four of them and grabbed Deans shoulder gently, "come stand with me and we can watch together, yeah?"

Dean smiled, reaching up and taking Carl’s hand, allowing him to pull him a few steps away as Daryl gave your brother a small appreciative nod before he turned his attention back to Ricky just as Rick handed him the small handgun.

"I know this is unloaded but prove to me that it is." Rick instructed.

Ricky held the gun in his little hands correctly, mimicking how Rick and Daryl had been holding it earlier in the demonstration. Ricky pointed towards the empty magazine well before he racked and locked the slide back and pointed to the empty chamber.

"Atta boy. Where is the safety switch?" Rick asked, and Ricky pointed to the small switch above his thumb. "Good. Is the safety on or off?"

"It's on."

"Yes."

"How... how do you know if it's on or off?" Dean asked curiously, looking up at Carl before glancing over at the guys.

"If you flick the switch and a little red dot appears, that means the safety is off. If you can't see the red dot, then the safety is on. What I got taught at the Police Academy is that red means dead. Red means that you can shoot the gun, so the safety is off."

"Red means dead. Got it." Dean nodded, like he was mentally storing away that piece of information even though you were pretty sure he would forget by dinner time, but it was the thought that counted.

"Here. Do you remember how to load a magazine?" Daryl asked, crouching down and holding up the magazine which you knew only had two bullets inside.

"Yes. Can I do it?"

Daryl nodded, placing the magazine in his son’s free hand and you watched anxiously as Ricky carefully turned the magazine around the right way. He shoved it into the bottom of the gun before he reached for the slide but paused and glanced over at his father and grandpa.

"Can I load a bullet in the chamber?"

Rick nodded, "when you're ready, load the gun and aim for that glass bottle."

You watched as Ricky wrapped his fingers around the end of the slide and racked it, loading the weapon before he raised the gun in front of him and flicked the safety off with his thumb. It was surprising how well he was doing with remembering all the steps and you were proud of him for asking permission before loading the weapon.

A few seconds later, the gun fired and a spray of dirt appeared a few feet in front of the bottle, the bullet dropping a little short.

"I missed." Ricky frowned, glaring at the glass bottle like it had personally offended him by not breaking.

"That's okay. Missin' is a part of learnin’. Try again 'n remember to line up those three little white dots to aim." Daryl encouraged.

Ricky nodded, taking in a deep breath and you watched in shock as he fired again, and the glass bottle instantly shattered.

He did it.

Holy shit, your son hit the target.

"Yes! Go, Ricky!" Dean cheered, jumping up and down from beside Carl who was grinning ear to ear proudly.

"Mama, did you see that? I did it!" Ricky exclaimed, glancing over his shoulder at you with a bright smile spreading across his face.

"You did amazing, sweetie. Good job." You praised, smiling at your boy happily.

"Eject the magazine, show me that the gun is empty before handing it back." Rick instructed, bringing Ricky’s attention back to him and he followed the instructions and before you knew it, the group of you were walking back to Alexandria after successful firearms training.

"I still can't believe we spent so long together, the quarry, the farm, the prison, and I never realised that the wife and kids you spoke about were these guys." Your father suddenly said, pointing at Ricky and Dean who were walking a few paces ahead with Carl.

"The amount of stories ya told 'bout ya daughter, I shoulda put two 'n two together." Daryl muttered, shaking his head with a small smile.

"Aww, you guys used to talk about me?" You teased causing them both to scoff.

"Mostly to complain about ya." Daryl wrapped his arm around your shoulders and pulled you against his side while the three of you walked through the woods.

"Do not come near me with that thing!" Andrea exclaimed.

Daryl stopped in his tracks before he could reach the campfire near the Greene farmhouse. Andrea was staring at the dead snake in his hand with wide eyes and Daryl frowned looking down at the animal he had just shot.

"Wasn't gonna, but whatever." He muttered, walking past her tent and taking a seat in front of the campfire to start skinning the snake for dinner.

"Sorry, it's just... I hate snakes. Like, really hate them." Andrea apologised, but she made no move to get out her tent to join him by the fire.

Daryl smiled sadly to himself. Andreas words reminding him of you and your fear of snakes.

He had no idea if you were even still alive or not. He had no idea if the boys were alive, and he knew that the chances of ever seeing you guys again was basically zero.

"She sounds like my daughter. She used to be terrified of snakes." Rick commented, walking into camp and sitting down on the chair across the campfire.

Daryl lifted his head slightly and looked over at the former Deputy before lowering it again and he began skinning the snake.

"Didn't know ya had a daughter."

"I don't talk about her much... haven't seen her for over a decade."

Daryl could hear the underlying emotion in Ricks voice, but he didn't comment on it. Whatever happened between Rick and his daughter was absolutely none of his business and he didn't exactly care either.

"She was always a daddy's girl. She was like my damn shadow, following me around everywhere... but then something bad happened and she left. I don't even know if she's still alive." Rick began to say before shaking his head. "But, yeah, she used to really hate snakes."

"Sounds like my wife. She'd lose her shit whenever she saw one." Daryl found himself saying without meaning to.

And then it hit him.

That was the first time he had spoken about you out loud.

"You were married?" Rick asked in surprise.

"Mmm." Daryl hummed, continuing to skin the snake. "Married with two boys."

Ricks eyes widened, but he was quick to cover his shock, although Daryl had already seen it.

"That surprise ya?"

"No. No. Well... you just never mentioned a wife or kids before."

Daryl shrugged, "you never mentioned ya daughter either. Sometimes we keep stuff to ourselves."

Rick nodded in understanding and didn't say anything in response to that, but Daryl could feel the other man’s eyes on him while he fiddled with the snake.

"What happened to them? Your wife and kids?" Rick asked, his voice taking on a gentler tone, knowing it would be a sensitive topic.

"Dunno."

"What do you mean you don't know?"

Daryl glared at the man across the campfire. "It means I don't fuckin' know, okay? Drop it."

Rick raised his hands a little to show that he meant no harm and Daryl sighed, dropping the snake and staring at the dying embers of the campfire.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked."

"S'alright. Just restock that fire so I can cook this snake."

Rick nodded, "of course."

-

It hadn't even been a week since the broken window incident, so when a guilty Ricky knocked on Mrs. McDonalds door while you were working, you had assumed the worst.

Another broken window possibly or maybe one of the boys had hit someone with their slingshots... you were still waiting for that to happen.

However, what you did not expect was for your youngest to step out from behind his big brother holding his left arm to his chest with tear stains on his face. Your heart shattered seeing your baby boy look so hurt.

"What happened?" You asked, dropping to your knees in front of him.

Dean tried to answer, but his words were cut off by a few strangled sobs as the tears in his eyes began to fall again.

"He fell out a tree... I-I think he has a broken wrist." Ricky answered, pointing at his brother's left wrist that Dean was still clutching to his chest.

Jesus Christ, why was he even climbing a tree in the first place?

"Oh, baby, it's okay." You reassured, grabbing Deans shoulder gently as you tried to get a look at the injury, but you couldn't see it underneath his long sleeve. "Can I see it?"

Dean nodded with a small sniff as he held his shaky arm towards you and you gingerly pulled the jacket sleeve up, revealing a swollen wrist underneath.

Shit.

"Okay. Let me go say goodbye to Mrs. McDonald and then we will take a little trip to the infirmary to get it checked out, alright?"

It wasn't long before you were walking through the front door of Alexandria's infirmary with Dean resting on your hip and Ricky following closely behind.

The little bell on the door ringed as you entered, and Denise turned around from where she was taking stock of the medicine on the shelf. She sighed when she realised that it was your family once again.

"This is becoming almost too frequent." She commented in amusement, putting her clipboard down as she walked over to you. "How are you guys?"

"Little Dean has seen better days. I think his wrist might be broken." You admitted, glancing down at your boy in your arms who was currently burying his face in the crook of your neck.

Denise gave you a sympathetic look, "oh, that's not good. But I know what will make you feel better. What colour lollipop do you like?"

That caught Deans attention real quick and he lifted his head from your shoulder. Denise grabbed a glass jar from the bench and walked back over, holding the candy filled jar up towards him.

Dean hesitated for a second before he reached in with his good hand and picked one before holding it out to you which you grabbed and teared off the plastic wrapper for him.

"Excellent choice. The red ones are my favourite!" Denise beamed, her smile bright before she looked down at Ricky. "Which one do you want?"

"A green one please."

"Green? That is the worst flavour." Denise exclaimed, pretending to take offence to your son’s candy choice causing Ricky to roll his eyes.

"It is the best."

"Nah uh, red is so much better." Dean argued, popping the lollipop in his mouth.

Denise laughed while the boys began arguing back and forth about what the best flavour was before disappearing to go and get the doctor.

"Dixon again, which one? The whole family's been through here, ya gotta be more specific. Big or little?" You heard the doctor say from the back room and you had to stop yourself from laughing.

"Little Dixon."

"Which little Dixon?"

"Wow, there are a lot of Dixons, aren't there? It's the littlest one. Dean. I'll tell them that you'll be ready soon."

A few seconds later, Denise walked back out the room and the boys had finally stopped their candy debate and were silently sucking on their lollipops when the woman made her way back over to you.

"The doctor will be ready soon."

"Thanks, Denise." You smiled.

A few minutes later, the doctor came out the room and shook his head when he saw your family.

"These two are like frequent flyers here." He joked, kneeling down in front of your sons before his eyes landed on the already bruising skin around Deans wrist. "This is a little more than some cuts and scrapes though, isn't it?"

"He fell out a tree. I think it might be broken." You explained, hoping and praying to any god that was listening for that not to be the case.

"Well, let's take a proper look and I will fix it right up. Does that sound good, kiddo?"

Dean nodded ever so slightly, his eyes still glistening with unshed tears.

After some inspection the doctor deemed the injury to only be a fracture and not a break which was a huge relief. Little Dean now had a black wrist brace that was meant to stay on for a few weeks before coming back to the infirmary to get it reassessed.

Daryl took one look at the black wrist brace when you and the boys walked through the front door and sighed, "what happened this time?"

"He fell out a tree." You answered, closing the door before joining him in the main room where a bunch of the others seemed to be gathered on the couches relaxing with a few drinks.

How the Grimes-Dixon house became the main hangout spot for your group was beyond you. Everyone just seemed to migrate to this house or more specifically this room and your fridge. It was nice though, you had spent so long constantly close by each other during those months on the road, so it just felt normal to be together now.

"Why the hell were ya in a tree for?" Daryl asked, looking over at Dean who was now sitting on the ground beside Carl showing him the brace.

"I was trying to be like Yondu. I'm a Ravanger." Dean explained, pointing at the Guardians of the Galaxy comic book on the coffee table.

You turned to glare at Merle sitting on the couch who was the man to blame for your sons addiction to the blue superhero. Merle just rolled his eyes, but didn't comment on it as he took a sip of his drink or whatever alcohol he had managed to get his hands on.

"I thought Spider-Man was meant to be the one climbing trees." Tara suddenly said, glancing around at everyone in the room.

"Nah, isn't that Hawkeye?" Glenn responded. "He's definitely the one that climbs trees. Hawks live in trees."

"Hawkeye isn't an actual hawk. He's a superhero with a bow and arrow." Ricky explained, like that was meant to be common knowledge.

"What about Superman?" Noah suggested.

"I'm gonna pretend that you didn't just say that." Carl deadpanned.

"What's wrong with what I said?"

"We're talking about Marvel superheroes!" Dean answered, empathising the word 'Marvel' as he spoke.

"Isn't Superman a superhero?" Your fathers voice suddenly questioned as he entered the house.

"He is a DC superhero." Carl corrected, giving Rick a tired look like this wasn't the first time they've had this discussion.

"What's the difference?"

"Doesn't matter, Superman can most definitely beat them all." Eugene called out from the kitchen.

And, oh, boy, did that open up a whole new argument as both your boys jumped to their feet and rushed into the kitchen to argue that statement, Carl right on their tail to back them up. You watch them disappear into the room followed by muffled arguing which you couldn't quite understand.

"I'd hate to be Eugene right now." You laughed, walking further into the room and sitting down on one of the couches.

"No way I'm arguing with those boys about Superhero's. I'd rather jump on a live grenade." Abraham commented causing you all to laugh.

"That I think we can all agree on." Rick chuckled softly before looking over at you. "Is Dean okay? I saw the brace on his wrist."

"It's fractured. He'll be fine."

"If he doesn't try 'n climb any more trees that is." Daryl muttered, plonking himself down on the couch between you and Merle.

"Falling outta trees is a gene that came from you, baby brother." Merle pointed out causing your head to snap towards Daryl waiting for him to explain, but he was just glaring at his brother for bringing up that topic. "Don't look at me like that. C'mon, it was fuckin' funny. You were five 'n got dressed up as batman 'n jumped out a tree because you thought you could fly."

Daryl snorted with a shake of his head, "only 'cause ya jumped first."

"I was nine 'n dressed up like Superman. Everyone knows Batman can't fly!"

"Well, I didn't know that. I broke my arm."

Merle chuckled, "I know ya did. I had to drive you to the ER on my handlebars."

"So, is that why your kids are obsessed with superheros and apparently have a thing for trees and gravity?" Michonne asked in amusement causing everyone to laugh.

"What other stupid shit did you do as children that I need to prepare for?" You asked, glancing between the Dixon brothers.

"There was the near drowning in the creek... and the roof tile incident... Oh, ya remember when we nearly burnt the shed down with that bonfire? Oh, how about-" Merle began to say before Daryl cut him off.

"I reckon she gets the point. We were idiots."

"Our kids are doomed." You sighed dramatically, dropping your head down on Daryl's shoulder as everyone in the room started to laugh.

Daryl wrapped his arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his side before placing a gentle kiss to your temple. You couldn't stop yourself from smiling as the group of you fell into comfortable silence before Eugene’s voice stating facts and statistics about Superman, followed by your sons and Carl's petty arguments filled the air.

The group of you shared a silent look while the arguing continued from the kitchen before you all burst out laughing. 

-

PART 4

-

MASTERLIST pinned to profile.

Commissions open! Link in bio & DM for enquiries ❤️

#daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon #the walking dead #twd #norman reedus #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon x reader #the walking dead fanfiction #rick grimes #the walking dead fanfic

[cumulo-stratus]

The Good Days

Pairing: Spencer reid x Autistic!Male!reader

Description: spencer and y/n go stargazing, and y/n indulges spencer with facts about his special interest- astronomy

Warnings: fluff!! a little bit of me info dumping for me <3, lemme know if theres anything else!

Flufftober Day 16: stargazing

A/N: ik its super short guys dont get on my ass- i wrote it in like 30 minutes before i went to bed because i needed to get a second fic up- also sorry for info dumping just a weensy bit lmao

The park had long since been emptied, all except for 2 people, spencer and y/n. They were sat in camping seats, as y/n hated the feeling of sitting in the grass, it was too prickly for his liking. And spencer would do anything he could to accommodate his boyfriend, so he got them camping chairs that you could lean back in so they could still stargaze, as per y/ns request. y/n had a special interest in astronomy, and spencer had no issues indulging y/n, one could even say spoiling him. And tonight was one of those nights were spencer sacrificed something for y/n. Spencer had just gotten back from a case the other day and was still exhausted- but agreed to go star gazing because it was going to be the clearest night for a while. 

And so here they were, one hour in and y/n was still spewing facts about stars, currently he was on the topic of blue vs. red stars. although he spoke utterly, trying to uphold the quietness of the night as best he could, but his tone was far from calm- it was animated and lively, his hands moving to match. 

“…okay so recap blue stars- they’re usually pretty young- because they have a ton more energy that they havent burned up yet- so these blue stars get super excited cus they have a ton of hydrogen to burn (basically star food)- so they burn it super fast and super hot! thats why theyre blue- blue fire is hotter than red/orange fire..”

spencer had abandoned watching the stars at least 10 minutes ago, favoring watching y/ns eyes light up as he spoke- the smile reflecting that of a child’s for it innocence, and its exhilaration. spencer, wanting to encourage his boyfriend posed the question, 

“and what happens when that big hot blue stars runs out of hydrogen to burn?”

y/n looked over at spencer, absolutely thrilled at the question, and responded 

“oh my goodness! i was jsut about to talk about this, when blue stars run out of hydrogen which burns much hotter than hellium, they switch to burning helium- which has more energy- but doesnt burn as hot! so what happens is that star now has all this excess energy- and it needs something to do with it! so it expands, the outer layers of the star expand outwards- causing the whole star to cool down enough to burn red hot- instead of blue hot.”

“wow thats really interesting, thank you for telling me about it!” 

when spencer praised y/n a warm blush dusted his cheeks- but spencer couldn’t see it in the darkened park. And after y/n finished talking, the couple settled into a comfortable silence- the kind you dont feel the need to fill. And they sat there, fingers entwined, shoulders touching, until Y/n was starting to fall asleep. and y/n needed to drive spencer back to their apartment. But Before they left, y/n and spencer soaked in the silence, and the soft light of the night sky embracing them with open arms. These were the good days. 

The End

#spencer reid #criminal minds #bau #bau team #cute #fluff #gay #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x male reader #spencer reid x autistic reader #Autistic!reader #spencer reid fluff #flufftober #flufftober 2023 #flufftober prompt #flufftober day 16

[4saken4gotten]

Head Canons For Dante From Devil May Cry

I think about Dante way too much so I thought I would share my thoughts on some head canons of my own. Especially since the fandom for me gets so fucking dryyyyyyy Like please, I need more content or I'm going to spontaneously combust and not even in a hot and sexy way. (Or it still will be I just wont feel like it, but looking like hell on wheels is the goal!) yes that was a Heathers reference don't come at me Am I cringe? Yes. Am I free? Yes. These are my SFW head canons for him! If I get to it I can make my NSFW head canons as well but we'll see about that. Gender Neutral Reader Pairing. For my bitches, bros and fellow nonbinary hoes. (My certification in making head canons is as follows: I have played DMC 1, 2, 3, 4, 5. I've read all the novels, and read 3 different fan translations of the novels we don't have official English translations for. I've watched the animated series at least 12 times and I've listened to all of the audio drama CD's. I have canon reasons for all my head canons but some of them are just little silly things because I brain rot. Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk.) I apologize in advanced for any typos and grammar mistakes and or just not making sense. I am dyslexic and autistic so I have a weird way of explaining things and will misspell basic words sometimes but I promise to do my best.

He's a big dork and his favorite thing to do is make his S/O laugh. Filling their soul with light is his favorite thing to do. teehee So he says the stupidest jokes to make them double over in laughter.

This is a bit of a double edged sword however since he uses humor and sarcasm as a major crutch / coping mechanism. He can be serious when the situation calls for it, but most of the time he doesn't want situations and mishaps to weigh on himself or those around him too heavily.

He's HELLA broke. So he'd take full advantage of free things to do like spending the night under the stars in a park after hours. Something that feels like "We aren't supposed to be out here!" but isn't really harmful / breaking the law.

I think he has some sort of collection of some sort. I think he collects seashells because they remind him of more serene times in his childhood. Probably hand sized conches or perhaps sand dollars (because its the only 'dollars' Lady cant swindle out of him ;u;)

Will die on the hill of pizza being a "balanced meal" insisting that it has all the important food groups therefore pizza is healthier than media wants people to think.

Despite his habits of leaving his pizza boxes about and letting Patty clean up after him- his own personal hygiene is actually really important to him. He always makes sure to take a shower after he gets back from every mission.

He honestly cant stand the scent of demon blood on him, it makes him a little anxious because it takes him back to the night of the fire / attack every time. (babyyyy boyyyyyyyyyyyy)

His love language is physical touch (giving) and acts of service (receiving). When he gets more comfortable with you, he's got some part of him touching you at all times: a thigh pressed against yours, a gentle hand around your shoulders or the small of your back, insistent on you laying on his shoulder or in his lap if you're tired. He'll be super appreciative of you organizing things when his mind gets too jumbled or he's just brooding.

I'm sick of people calling him lazy. I don't think he doesn't clean up because he doesn't want to- I think he's just overwhelmed most of the time / overstimulated to do anything if he's not in battle.

I strongly feel like he has some sort of ADHD, Depression and CPTSD due to his trauma. (Losing / killing his brother several times, his mother being killed, his father up and disappearing one day, losing his found family repeatedly: Grue, Nell, Jessica... etc)

He'd probably be super understanding of a neurodivergent s/o and be more than happy to "parallel play" in the shop. He reads his magazines on the couch with you while you read a book. Or he'll try to get some semblance of work done at his desk on the occasion while you watch your favorite tv show.

#devil may cry in love headcanon #devil may cry #dmc dante #headcanon #sfw headcanons

[slashingdisneypasta]

How would your horror/slasher faves take care of you when you're sick? 🥺 (I know you've done a cheering up hcs before but maybe this is a lil different ^^)

Get well soon!! Take care of yourself <333

THIS IS SO SWEET! Thank you! ^^ <3<3<3 I hope you're doing better too with your life stuff or at least you will be very soon ^^

I took this opportunity to be super super self indulgent! XD 😅

Horror Villains x Reader || Headcanons +Imagines at the Bottom

Topic: Taking care of you when you're sick ^^

Includes (For HC's): Jim Bickerman and Otis B. Driftwood. Included (For Imagines): Bo Sinclair, Chucky Lee Ray, Drayton Sawyer, Freddy Krueger and Jeffrey Hawk/The Clown. (They aren't in this order, sorry 😅)

Warnings: Otis fucking Driftwood (Meaning nasty smut hc's and a liiitle dub con)

Jim Bickerman:

If you get really clingy when you're sick like me (Opposite to me when I'm healthy 😅😅) he is absolutely on board with that XD Honestly he loves having you sticking close to him, going to him for warmth, laughing a little too easy at dumb jokes, listening intently to whatever he's saying... he eats it up. You're like an adorable little puppy dog, hangin' onto him. He'll almost be disappointed when you get better and don't act like that anymore 😅😅😅

"... Do you need help gettin' changed? I'm happy to help y'out pumpkin, really! Ul-ulterior motive?? No... "

Usually he's a frozen meal kinda man; he's probably got a freezer just packed full of pizza's and little microwave meals, and the most gourmet thing he 'cooks' regularly is campfire sausages in the backyard- but he knows how to make chicken soup and mash some potato's and that's his first duty when you wake up sick as a dog.

You get to wear one of his flannels when you're sick (:(:(: Its big and thick and probably smells like spilled alcohol.

He's probably gonna get himself sick too because he can not stay away from you. He'll be sat next to you most of the time- watching tv with you and entertaining you, eating soup with you, having tea with you, napping with you- basically, this is not your sickness. This is both of y'alls sickness 😅😅😅

"Here, this'll help. Promise ya."

"... That is a bottle of bourbon."

"Exactly." *Shakes it in your face*

Otis B Driftwood (NSFW mostly)

You think a little bit of snot is gonna deter this freak man??? Uh, no. He's still going to try and fuck you if he can swing it. You look so fucking cute with your sore, sore red nose from wiping so much, the bags under your eyes are sexy as hell to him, and you're moving so damn slowly... you think he isn't gonna take that as an opportunity?

So yeah... he is actually quite into you when you're sick. And he'll probably exhaust you to the point that you'll be sleeping a lot and get through this much faster then usual!

He will kiss you, full on the mouth with a foul amount of tongue (Lets see if we can soothe your throat, baby), so I hope his immune system is good.

He is happy to just warm his cock in you while you sleep, or lay there and babble because you're half really unwell and halfway to an orgasm at the same time. You're just so fucking cute.

He is also happy to eat you out/blow you and overstimulate you for hours. What?? This way he wont get sick himself! Isn't that better, you gross, diseased little slut?

Otis also doesn't shy away from mess (Obviously), so if you have tissues everywhere he's not gonna look at you sideways or anything ^^ Which is such a load off my mind, at least! ^^

He's not gonna make you something good to eat, but he's not a total animal- especially when he gets older. He will make you a cup of tea, and you better like it XD

You need a ride to the bathroom? Otis will haul you on his shoulder the whole way and set you down right on the toilet seat 😅 You need someone to hold you up in the shower? Otis is on it- he needs a shower anyway.

+ Imagines

Another one who does not give a damn how 'gross' you might be when you're sick is Jeffrey/the clown. He'll have you set on his big lap snoozing against his shoulder or sniffling and coughing into tissues while he messes around with different potions in his trailer, just keeping you warm and comfortable there. He says if you can put up with him coughing and hacking all over ya all the time he can damn sure handle you're adorable fucken self whimpering into his shoulder all day.

If you tend to have bad dreams when you're unwell due to your fever like I do: Imagine frowning in your sleep, pressing your lips together in a tight line as the scenes in your head just replay or get worse the harder you try to get rid of them or distract yourself. But there's immediate relief as soon as Freddy enters your dream. Just his presence is comforting to you ^^

Imagine convincing Drayton to come to bed with you instead of back to work. It takes some convincing, but its no secret he likes you more then anyone else in the world- literally- and he gives in after a while. He gets back in, fully clothed, and delicately but purposefully gets in close so you can cuddle up to him, sayin 'just for a couple minutes okay??' very sternly, before he falls asleep to you stroking his surprisingly soft hair.

Imagine sitting on a bench in Bo's shop while he works, slowly just making your way through a roll of toilet paper there because you just couldn't bear to be away from him- even if he was paying little attention to you. Imagine him, though, taking a break eventually and standing between your legs, his hands warm on your thighs, to ask you how yer goin, doll?

Chucky's conscious of your illness and does not want to get it, but he'll sit out on the ground on the other side of your bedroom door and talk to you through it. Ask you if you're alive still, talk about whatever goes through his head just to hear you hum in acknowledgement, play 20 questions while he fiddles with a lighter... that kind of thing. And he'll also cook you some soup later (He's just an asshole- not an incompetent asshole).

#Slashers #Horror Villains #Headcanons #Horror Villains x Reader Headcanons #Slashers x Reader Headcanons #Chucky Charles Lee Ray #Chucky x Reader #Charles Lee Ray x Reader #Bo Sinclair #Bo Sinclair x Reader #Drayton Sawyer #Drayton Sawyer x Reader #Freddy Krueger #Freddy Krueger x Reader #Jeffrey Hawk #Jeffrey Hawk x Reader #Kenneth Chase #Kenneth Chase x Reader #Otis B Driftwood #Otis B Driftwood x Reader #Jim Bickerman #Jim Bickerman x Reader

[monkey-network]

Good Stuff: Best Movies of 2023

This was NOT a great year for blockbusters, huh? This was probably Disney's worst in years, multiple flops including what was meant to be their centennial anniversary film. It looked remarkably by the numbers, but think of the conglomerate's losses... Anyway, this to me was a pretty great year for films. Like 2022, I'm amazed at the variety we got that says more about the shifting tides of people's interest in movies. It was the most times I've been to the theater. We got a big worker's strike over the summer, especially large push back against degenerates trying to push AI to do more than just shitposting. And it was enough for me to know Adam Sandler, Godzilla, and Hayao Miyazaki could get the better of Disney. With this said, let this be a first for Good Stuff and count down my favorites of this year.

12. Renfield

My suspicions were on the money and I'm glad I gave this a shot in the theaters. Cage was the best Dracula I could've asked for in what you might say was an Adult Swim-esque dark comedy. It definitely has that style of gruesomeness and humor given Robert Kirkman and the Writer/Director behind Moral Orel made this. Unfortunately, Ben Schwartz stuck out like a sore thumb even if he fulfills his purpose in this, reminding me of Christopher Mintz-Plasse in KickAss; I feel he or Jason Schwartzman would've been better suited. Plus it can feel all over the place, an identity crisis that you can't even grasp after it finishes. Then again, I just had fun watching and would gladly rewatch for Cage and Hoult who are the highlights of this.

11. Migration

Call it blasphemous, but I enjoyed this more than the Mario movie. It's essentially Rio mixed with National Lampoon's Vacation, with a lovable cast, solid animation, and an eazy breezy road trip story. I've always looked to Illumination for simple enjoyable romps and I got what I expected here. Gave me Amphibia vibes in a way, replace frogs with birds. Everything surrounding the villain is my only real issue, he was an obvious and very nothing bad guy, but it's overall better paced than Super Mario Bros where it felt like you watched an eternity in 3 minutes. Still don't get the air of folk looking down on this for just being serviceable when it's honestly become my favorite Illumination movie next to the first Despicable Me.

10. Killers of the Flower Moon

Sad to say this is the weakest Scorsese movie for me, mainly because it felt like we're following the wrong main character. Lily Gladstone is incredible in this, among the other great performers, but she felt sidelined in favor of DeCaprio and De Niro's perspectives. It's like if in 1995's Casino, we just follow Ginger throughout the moment Sam introduces her. I liked the turmoil Leo's character goes through, but it paled in comparison to Mollie who was more affected by his and Hale's actions. That does not mean it's all bad. This can be a beautiful, dynamic, and ruthless movie that just made me feel bad for watching it; running with the words "harsh reality" throughout the 3 and a half hour runtime.

9. Good Burger 2

I watched Good Burger 1 & 2 this Thanksgiving weekend, and just had a blast. These are the kind of movies that are charmingly stupid but not insultingly so. Kel Mitchell's Ed is emblematic of how much dumb fun this duology is where he's actively comical but not smoothbrained to ruin your time. This I say is like Home Alone 2 where it is just beat for beat the 1st movie with minor developments but that doesn't really matter when it's just as well put together. It never feels like Kenan nor Kel missed a beat and the drama not overstaying its welcome. It is just "Good Burger Again" without it feeling like diminishing returns compared to other rehashing sequels.

8. Leo

Can you believe this got better publicity than Disney's Wish? Even YMS could appreciate this movie, that's how you know Sandler has his recognizable game when you least expect it. But Leo is a surprisingly good comedy that has actually sincere moments. Being Happy Madison's 2nd ever animation, it's like Adam waited to refine the production as opposed to putting a cash grab together like one would expect. It's not all good, especially trying to be a musical, but seeing it once you'd be impressed how much good it does with the risks it takes.

7. Nimona

Like Migration, everything surrounding the villain is the one big issue I have with this, especially when it comes to affecting the film's message. At the same time, she pales in comparison to the dynamic pairing of Ballister Blackheart and the titular shapeshifter. Nimona is my favorite character of 2023, her energy and confidence matched by the struggle she bears existing alone and the facade made to band-aid it. Her and Ballister's journey alone made me glad this got out of development hell, being Blue Sky's final production posthumous. To me it wasn't about being a take that to Disney, it was about the fact a movie like Nimona got to exist as great as it did. Hoping Stevenson is satisfied with their adaptation, because it definitely earned its flowers.

6. Emesis Blue

Offhand, it openly sucks that Letterboxd refuses to let this stay on the site to log, but it can't be overstated how much of a marvel this was. Repurposing not just the characters, but the lore and mechanics of Team Fortress 2 into a feature length horror thriller. The animation's top notch where it can have godly framing that was on par with the known legends of horror film making. SFM animations can be beautiful on their own, shitpost or otherwise, but Emesis Blue goes a step beyond by having a compelling story fitting for the universe on top of, again, every frame being a painting.

5. Shin Kamen Rider

I've never really saw any Tokusatsu shows. Not that I hate the genre, just could never get into it while recognizing the glorious looking chaos found in clips. Knowing Hideaki Anno directed was what got me into seeing this film and it opened my mind quite a bit. This was the legacy film that definitely had Anno's touch in both the action and drama. While the climax can notably drag, you never feel left out of what was essentially the original Kamen Rider's origin story. It doesn't have the complex VFX of stuff like Marvel, but the costumes and fight scenes makes me wish we got more of this in America beyond Power Rangers.

4. TMNT Mutant Mayhem

Advertising before release really didn't make this appear like a promising film. If there's anything I learned from this year though, appearances can be deceiving. Like Nimona was for her movie, the creative choices for this made it the TMNT movie I never knew I wanted. To me this felt akin to the Lego Batman movie where it's not only a good love letter of the franchise for more than its fanservice, but this spin on the characters is able to have a new sincere view of them without overhauling everything about the TMNT. That and it has the greatest needle drops I've had in a long while like how do insert He-Man Fabulous Secret Powers and expect me to hate this?

3. Godzilla Minus One

I call this a great year for films because it marks the first time I got to see a Toho produced Godzilla, with subtitles, in an real movie theater. Needless to say, it felt like I got to enjoy the 1954 film again anew. Not a remake mind you, but the parallels were uncanny and this spins here work just as well, if not more here than with the original in a couple places. Both are still strong movies nonetheless. Minus One is a refurbish that dishes out what people always wanted and uniquely giving a little more while never sacrificing why the OG is that timeless. With it getting more than a limited release, I'm glad this got to be more than a niche celebration of the kaijuu king.

2. Oppenheimer

This film's been meme'd to heaven, hell you could say it got meme'd to success thanks to its dual release with Barbie, but it didn't undermine getting hooked to watching this anyways. This really has become my favorite Nolan film, a compelling biopic that doesn't exactly herald its titular lead in the best light thanks to the paradoxical storytelling. Oppenheimer gives us the largest ensemble I know, and delivers in the most breathtaking moments I never knew I could get. Cillian killed it among the many who made the three hours of people sitting and talking in rooms actually tense and intriguing to thread. Plus it gave us the beauty of Josh Peck being the guy to detonate the test bomb like cherry on top of this cinematic cake.

1. The Holdovers

I remember watching Alexander Payne's Sideways with Paul Giamatti as a high schooler but couldn't appreciate it until rewatching this year. It's one of the best mid-life crisis comedies you could see, still fresh in its easy going presentation and music. The same can be said for this film, made to feel like it came from the late 70s or 80s with the old opening logos that I didn't think you could do in these times. Out the gate, this was the holiday story I was shocked would be as relatable as it was, with the trio of Giamatti, Randolph, and Sessa each having their story that resonated with me strongly. With the right amount of time, Payne offers an remarkably cozy, down to earth movie where from reserved to outgoing, it did a lot for me emotionally. Like Netflix's Klaus, I kinda want this to be a traditional rewatch for the holiday seasons. One that everyone should try at least once, especially if they feel the disillusionment of the season where this might lift their spirits one way or another.

If there's anything to learn from this year, it's that the meta has definitely shifted. Even when the many on my list didn't make billions like the Avatar films, the variety and risks made spoke more than the big dogs like Disney and WB putting out unprofitable blockbusters that ranged from very by the numbers to you don't need to see The Flash to know how god awful it just was. More people are & should branch out beyond the major mainstream names. Not that the big dogs aren't ever gonna make great films in the coming years, but we should appreciate more than the big budget features you can tell are playing it safe. Time can be patient for great cinema, sleeper hits or not, so take advantage while you're young.

#2023 films #movies #2023 movies #films #reviews #renfield #renfield 2023 #renfield movie #Migration movie #Illumination Migration #killers of the flower moon #kotfm #Good Burger 2 #Leo Movie #Leo 2023 #leo netflix #nimona movie #nimona 2023 #Emesis Blue #shin kamen rider #tmnt mutant mayhem #Mutant Mayhem #Godzilla Minus One #Oppenheimer #The Holdovers #long post #top 10 #Good Stuff

[velidewrites]

To get back what the Cauldron has taken from her, Elain Archeron makes a deal with Prythian’s most dangerous enemy.

Now, a servant of a cruel Death God, Elain must make sure her efforts are not discovered—especially not by someone tied to her darkening heart by a golden thread.

Someone like her mate.

Notes: My humble offering for @elucienweekofficial. This fic is a post-ACOSF story — and very close to my heart as it’s based on the very first one-shot I’ve ever written.

Tags: Post-ACOSF, Canon Compliant, NSFW

Read on AO3 || Chapter 1 || Masterlist

Chapter 3 - You're Not Like The Others

Lucien watched Vassa carefully as she leaned back in her seat, arms stretched out before her as she examined her shimmering skin.

“How do you feel?” he asked, eyeing the soft, blueish glow that seemed to shine from her very bones—in all his centuries on earth, Lucien had never seen anything quite like it.

Vassa considered, looking over her body once more before finally meeting his gaze. “Cold,” she said, though her voice betrayed no concern.

“Here,” Jurian said, rising from his seat to peel the jacket off his arms. Vassa smiled, stopping him with a lift of her hand. “It’s alright,” she said. “It’s not unpleasant, it feels…nice, actually.” She took another breath, shoulders loosening as though a thousand knots within them had just been undone. Slowly, Jurian receded back to his chair, his brown eyes sharp and trailing every single one of Vassa’s movements.

“You’re supposed to rest now,” Lucien reminded her. “Nuan said an hour at least—your body needs time to absorb the elixir.” Beside him, Jurian grunted his agreement.

Vassa looked at Lucien. “I’m afraid your mate has other plans for me this evening.”

Jurian glowered at him—as though Elain being so hell-bent on staying at the manor had somehow been his fault. The way Lucien saw it, the quicker they got this whole ordeal over with, the sooner she would be gone—and the sooner could he go back to his useless routine of pretending she did not torment his every thought.

Because she had—even more so now that he’d finally, finally spoken to her after months of seeing her only in his dreams. Their conversation—if he could even call it that—just a few hours ago had lit a match somewhere deep in his chest Lucien thought had long been darkened to ash, and he was more determined now than ever to find out just how bright it could truly burn. Every visit, every Solstice, Lucien had been presented with the same blurry picture—a polite, quiet Elain, so out of place in her new world that she needed space to figure things out on her own. Lucien had been more than happy to give it to her—until now, when the picture sharpened and he finally looked at it with new eyes.

There was nothing quiet about Elain Archeron, thank the Gods. She hadn’t expected to see him and he could tell the sentiment from her face as clear as day—he’d caught her off guard, like a startled animal resorting to its most primal instincts to defend itself. She’d shown her claws, the roaring that simmered beneath her pretty dress, begging to be let out.

Lucien was practically itching to be the one to do it.

“You don’t have to be so damn stubborn about this, you know,” Jurian told her, earning a look that, had he not been slaughtering on the battlefield his whole life, would’ve sent a regular man running.

Vassa said, “If Elain can find the answers we need, then I’m willing to try it again. And again, if necessary. However many times we need.”

Lucien leaned forward, propping his chin up on his palm. “Not too many, let’s hope.”

Vassa angled her head, her fiery hair shifting with the movement. “Does she know where you’ve been this morning?”

“Not yet. We got, ah…sidetracked.” His face flushed slightly as the words came out of his mouth, realising the message probably implied something entirely different than what he’d intended.

Sure enough, Jurian’s dark brows rose. “Have you—”

“No,” he cut in sternly. “But we…talked.”

“I wonder how that went,” Jurian murmured, the words rewarded with yet another look from Vassa.

Lucien muttered, “It doesn’t matter.” Because it didn’t. As much as he might have enjoyed seeing her true colours come to life, it could not have been more clear that Elain had hardly shared that sentiment. They might have spoken for the first time in forever—the conversation perhaps longer than any of the scraps he’d ever been given with her—but as soon as her mission here was over, Lucien had no doubt in his mind Elain would retreat to the shadows of the Night Court, never to light that match in his heart again.

Vassa hummed. “If you say so,” she said, resting her back against her seat again as her eyes closed in content. “This feels really good,” she admitted, that blue light still coating her tired features. “Maybe I’ll rest for ten minutes before your mate cuts me open again.”

Jurian snorted. “I got this,” he said to Lucien. “You go get your mate.”

———

Elain shifted on the couch nervously, watching as blood began to drip down Vassa’s hand. The carpet was still stained from yesterday, a rusted sort of red dotting the thick fabric and forming a pattern that, if she angled her head just right, she could’ve sworn looked just like a bird in flight. Elain sighed, well aware that, especially with the time ticking down her very tight schedule, she was definitely growing paranoid.

“Your turn,” Vassa’s voice pulled her from her thoughts, transfixed on the thin stream of liquid still filling the crease in the firebird queen’s palm. She handed her the knife, the steel surprisingly heavy in her hands, and lifted the sharp side of the blade to her smooth unassuming skin.

A low snarl ripped free from Lucien’s throat, and Elain’s head snapped up to meet his eyes.

He didn’t return her gaze, though, the pools of russet and gold flashing a sizzling flame that threatened to spill and burn the whole manor to the ground as he stared at the knife. His hands balled into fists at his sides, his knuckles bone-white and his body tense enough that she knew he was barely keeping himself seated, the beast in his chest purring out its loud sounds of protest.

That same beast, as Elain knew, lived in her own chest—though she’d managed to keep it dormant after the first and last time it awoke, silently raging as it took in Lucien’s bloodied clothes after the final battle. Elain tore her gaze off Lucien, slicing through her palm with a straight, clean cut.

That rage, that primal ferocity that roared in him to protect her—it wasn’t real. Their beasts—both of them—eventually, would be tamed into submission.

“What’s wrong with you?” Jurian murmured to his friend, leaning over the couch, Elain’s arched, Fae ears catching every word.

Lucien did not deign him with a response.

Jurian turned to Vassa. “Remember, you don’t have to—”

“We’ve talked about this,” Vassa said, the words apparently dismissal enough.

Elain nodded, offering the general a tentative smile she hoped masked her impatience. “This will never work if you don’t trust me,” she offered. Come on, her mind silently urged, tell the where it is. Tell me where you hid it.

Jurian opened his mouth, but Elain was quicker—she reached out to Vassa, her own blood dripping to join the carpet’s strange pattern. “Ready?”

Vassa loosed a breath. “Alright.”

The queen slipped her hand into Elain’s, two streams of blood joining into one.

The world flashed again, a white-hot flame consuming every inch of the room until it all became a bright, scorching nothingness.

But this time, Elain was prepared.

She navigated the space as though she’d been born for the light, her eyes now looking beyond what the fire veiled. There she was, Vassa standing atop a lustrous surface and looking up to the sun.

Elain looked down right at her.

Vassa’s eyes were closed—she could not see, not here, only feel as Elain’s light warmed her body, golden-brown skin shimmering under its power. But then, the sun intensified, and the surface beneath her feet trembled, as though the light had become too strong to reflect. Elain burned now, no longer a comforting presence above the queen, but a threat—beams of a scaling fire shooting to pierce through her, with Vassa’s heart their one and only aim.

Vassa’s brows knitted, her nose scrunching at the shift in the air—and her eyelids fluttered. In a second, those eyes would meet Elain’s—the last face the firebird queen would see before she burned to her death.

Elain.

Everything stopped.

Elain, please— a pause, as though the voice had choked on a breath. You have to save her. Help me save her, I—I can’t live without her.

The voice, hoarse and strained, echoed through the chambers of her very soul. Why did you do it, Elain?

The surface trembled again and blurred, shifting into something solid beneath Vassa as she fell, her knees hitting the ground hard.

“No,” Elain’s mouth moved on its own accord. “No, please—I—I didn’t mean to hurt anyone—”

A low, smooth chuckle. Well done, my sweet.

Elain jerked away.

“Elain!” Lucien called, by her side in an instant as if she’d frightened him—as if he cared. “Elain—are you—what the fuck did just—”

“Lucien, I need you here!” another voice—Jurian—reached her as the room began to come into view.

She had to have stood up at some point, and abruptly from the looks of it—the couch she’d sat on had been pushed back two feet, leaving four, long scrapes in the wooden floor. The back of her legs pulsed slightly from the impact, forgetting the immortal strength that rested within her muscles, just waiting to be harnessed. Elain looked over the space—not a lick of flame in sight—until she rested her gaze on Vassa, where the mortal queen hissed at the raw, bubbling skin of her open palm.

Lucien leaned over her quickly, a soft glow Elain recognised as similar to the magic used by Madja back in Night as he cast it over the burns. Elain looked down to her own hands—and, to her horror, found them perfectly smooth, not a single sign of the fire’s touch on them.

This, Elain decided, did not look good.

Her mind raced in search of an explanation she could offer—a lie she could come up with on the spot, certain that if any of the Band of Exiles learned of what she’d just seen, they would drag her down to the Nolans’ old basement and lock her up for all eternity.

Jurian, Cauldron bless him, gripped Vassa’s arm, forcing the stunned queen to look up at him at last. “Tell me exactly what you saw.”

Vassa blinked, a fog scattering from her cerulean eyes. “I…” she looked at Elain, frowning.

Elain could not breathe.

“It felt…strange. I couldn’t see anything but light—but I felt it, warm on my skin.” She looked down to her palm—to the new, gleaming skin, no burn marks in sight—and added, “It grew hotter—and then everything stopped.”

Elain had to keep from crying out in relief.

Lucien looked at her, an incredulous expression creasing his scarred face. “And you?”

Lie, that silky voice within her purred. Lie and take what you came here for.

Elain looked back, her attention falling to the deep wounds in the floor she’d caused. There was a time when lifting a heavy, iron chair had been a struggle. Now, she could probably lift a thousand of them.

She forced herself to look away, her decision made simple. “That sounds about right,” she said to their expectant faces, then cleared her throat. “Except—I could actually see Vassa standing under the sun, looking up to the sky. In her human form.”

Vassa gasped quietly, Jurian squeezing her shoulder tighter.

“She was holding something,” Elain lied, fighting to keep her throat from closing up. “A small, rectangular shape.” The two males behind Vassa exchanged glances.

“What was the colour?” Vassa breathed.

“It was too bright—I couldn’t see it very well,” Elain said. There was little doubt in her mind that they’d never hand the box over to her—her only resort was prying its location from Vassa’s mind. She added carefully then, “Perhaps another vision…”

“Can you focus your Sight on it?” Jurian asked. “See…see what it was exactly? If it was…open?””

“I…” Shit, shit shit. They did have it—they’d tried to open it, too, apparently to no effect. “I could try. But Vassa…” she looked at the queen and offered a sympathetic smile. “You were smiling.”

Elain made a show of lowering her gaze to her palms slowly, an exasperated sigh sounding deep from her chest. “I don’t understand why this keeps happening.” The queen shook her head, still seemingly in awe at the Seer’s previous words. Jurian, too absorbed by looking at Vassa with an emotion she couldn’t quite discern, did not return her gaze, either.

Lucien looked at her wordlessly, his silence almost palpable in her chest. He was not a daemati, but Elain checked her mental shields anyway, making sure they were still intact despite his sharp scrutiny.

But it wasn’t her mind his presence seemed to slither into, but somewhere else—prodding at that place beneath her ribs that could ruin everything had he only decided to disobey the order she’d given him a mere few hours ago.

After all, there was a reason Elain had been working so hard to avoid him—months upon months of hard work, of carefully selected words and bold, if not desperate, strategies—a triumph she’d thought she’d cemented at the last Solstice.

Apparently not. 

Lucien, to her relief, stopped despite the golden cord around her ribs calling out his name in a quiet song. She stifled the sound immediately, levelling her eyes on his own, praying that her expression would not betray a thing.

Finally, Lucien turned to Jurian—to Vassa. “I need to go,” he said, his voice tight. “Don’t wait up with dinner.”

———

Lucien’s reaction—or rather, the lack of it—made her stir through the rest of the night.

She had decided to forgo staying up the way Jurian and Vassa did—especially when doing so meant having the house practically all to herself throughout the day. Elain had begun taking mental note of the rooms she’d already managed to search, crossing them out as a potential hiding spot one by one until she decided the ground floor was not, perhaps, her best shot.

She could only pray the box was not somewhere she’d never dare to go. Like Lucien’s bedroom.

Elain knew exactly where he slept by scent alone, a warm morning breeze infused by something like hot caramel dripping down his skin. She could smell it in the entire house, its trail infuriatingly following her no matter how far she’d tried to escape—a constant reminded of the thorn in her side.

A silent grimace twisted her face as she remembered he’d used a smilier analogy to describe her a few hours ago—and with that, Elain promptly decided to go to sleep.

At least in his absence, there was no steady thrumming lulling her into dreams she could not allow her mind to drift into again. Lucien’s heart had a quiet beat that no one else seemed to hear—in the manor, or even the House of Wind back when the two of them had briefly occupied it at the same time. Elain could hear it well enough, though—chanting the same words over and over again, as though repeating them persistently would make them any less of a lie.

Mate. You are mine and I am yours.

Elain groaned into her pillow, keeping her face there to inhale the clean scent of cotton instead.

The softness of the fabric seemed to have done its job well enough, because Elain’s thoughts eventually slowed and her jaw relaxed, lips parting slightly to take a quiet breath. A few more and she felt herself falling—her body sinking into the mattress, into the darkness enveloping her slowly…

Elain squinted as she spotted a light somewhere at its very end. It shone a soft glow, inviting her closer.

She began moving through the shadows, thick and stalling her every step as though intent on keeping her away from the light. But Elain knew, with a certainty she didn’t think she’d ever felt before, that she was meant to follow that light—that once she reached it, she would never get lost in the darkness again.

As she approached the end—or perhaps, the very beginning—the light became clearer, taking up a shape. It formed into muscle first—hard and golden-brown as it built a tall, powerful frame. A broad chest, with a silky white fabric draped over it, and an arm adorned by a golden cuff, slithering around the impressive bicep.

Elain could not tear her gaze away—she found that she didn’t want to. The light was far too warm, far too compelling, for her to ever want to be near anything else.

But then, the light was given a face.

It twirled a bright russet and a glittering gold, looking down on her from beneath dark lashes. Elain backed up a step, darkness already swooshing thickly behind her—ready to wrap its tendrils around her body and pull her in, never to return again.

Those strong arms reached out for her, finding their way around her waist, grounding her and offering her safety. She found herself leaning into them—into the sculpted chest as she noticed the very light that seduced her had come exactly from it. It shone quietly beneath his skin, and Elain could’ve sworn that if she focused, she could hear its gentle thrum.

She placed a hand on that light, the feel of it washing over her like the first ray of sunlight as it rose over the night sky. Elain looked up then—to meet those eyes of russet and gold, realising she no longer wanted to back away.

Lucien smiled down at her, his large hand covering her own. “Listen, Elain,” he said, his voice filled with an emotion that made her own heart ache. “It beats only for you.”

She opened her mouth to answer him—to place his hand on her chest, too, perhaps—when a flitting sound sounded behind her.

Wings.

Elain jolted awake.

Her gaze immediately snapped to the windowsill—to where she’d forgotten to close the window to her bedroom fully—and found nothing but a small, chirping sparrow, taking its rest happily before resuming into the fading night.

Elain sighed in relief and went back to sleep.

———

Feyre’s midnight-sharp talons brushed against the gates to Rhys’s mind, a solid wall of impenetrable darkness.

The touch was met with twinkling laughter. Yes, Feyre darling?

A picture flashed down the bond, and Feyre smiled at the sight of Nyx, cooing happily in Rhys's arms. His big, blue eyes looked into his father’s, widening as though he saw the whole wide sky inside them. Perhaps he had.

Feyre caressed the sight down the bond, then stored it deep in a quiet, glowing chamber of her heart. Actually, she started, no longer wishing to disrupt them, I think I can handle this one myself.

A low hum sounded his agreement. I have no doubt that you can. She watched as he carefully set the baby down, Nyx’s small wings rising on instinct to accommodate the new position. Still, allow me to listen in? He’d comply with whatever answer she gave him—at her side or in the shadows, her mate would step back if  that was what she wished.

As if she ever could. We are a team, she told him.

Rhys glanced at their son. That we are, he agreed softly.

Feyre smiled, then blinked, the image slowly fading away to be replaced by the palette of cool greens and mahogany woods of the drawing room. She sent the location down the bond. Gwyn is here, she told her mate, smiling at the priestess sitting opposite from her, teal eyes watching the silent conversation curiously.

Rhys appeared a moment later, foregoing winnowing straight into the room for a quiet knock on the door signalling his presence. Gwyn stood up as he entered, bowing slightly to the High Lord the same way she had as Feyre let her in.

“Please, don’t stop on my account,” he told her in a manner of greeting before taking his seat beside Feyre. “Where is Nesta?” he asked her.

Feyre huffed. “Running late.”

Rhys’s mouth twisted into a shit-eating grin. Who would’ve thought freshly mated couples would’ve bothered you this much, Feyre darling.

Prick.

As though summoned by the wind carrying her name, Nesta suddenly appeared, reaching them from the doorway in a few quick strides, a heavy scent wrapped tightly around her skin. Gwyn, apparently well-acquainted with such entrances, rolled her eyes as her friend plopped on the cushions beside her.

Rhys sighed deeply. “Cassian?”

Nesta waved a hand. “Otherwise occupied.”

“What does that mean?” Feyre frowned.

Nesta snickered, more to herself than the rest of them gathered, “It means he is to remain exactly where I’d left him until I’m available again.”

Please, Rhys’s voice slid into her head again, for my sake, don’t ask her any more questions.

Feyre teased, I only worry for poor Cassian, of course.

Rhys’s expression looked pained. Something tells me Cassian is right where he wants to be.

Gwyn, thank the Mother, cleared her throat, giving Nesta a look that was almost scolding. “Shall we, then?”

Rhys looked at her as though she’d just declared world peace. “Please.”

The priestess chuckled, leaning over the coffee table. “Merril, unsurprisingly, was a dead end—but I believe I was able to find something interesting,” she said and, with a flick of her wrist, a stack of documents appeared, the fragrant smell of ancient scrolls mercifully cleansing the room. She looked at them both, meeting Feyre’s gaze directly. “What do you know of the fourth Dread Trove?”

She felt her mate’s surprise flicker down the bond.

“Next to nothing,” Feyre answered for him. “As far as history is concerned, there are only three,” she added, recalling Rhys’s words from months ago.

“Amren had once mentioned it,” Rhys said, Gwyn’s shoulders rolling back at the name of their Second as if on instinct. “There were rumours of it—rumours from her time. Whispers that it had been lost, or perhaps Unmade.” He angled his head, considering. “I believe that’s about the extent of it.”

Gwyn nodded. “That is correct. I was hardly able to gather any information on the existing Troves, let alone one only ever spoken about in rumours.” She shuffled through a small stack of papers, a silvery glint of a bracelet catching Feyre’s eye as her hands moved. “The library at the House of Wind holds very little information on magical objects or artifacts. Most of the priestesses choose to specialise in active history, or the events that shaped our cultures—our languages, our music—and as such, we have never had the need to collect knowledge that might have been more useful to other researchers.” She frowned. “Or so Clotho has said, at least.” Rhys nodded, though something about his shimmering gaze told Feyre the library’s collection would soon be undergoing a vast improvement.

“I wasn’t exactly hopeful,” Gwyn continued, “until I remembered something Nesta had told me about months ago. A vision, sent to her by one of the Prison’s…residents.”

“Lanthys,” Feyre whispered, recalling her sister’s horrifying encounter with the deathly mist-god. She glanced at Nesta, her sister’s expression almost bored as she casually sipped from her tea.

The priestess nodded again. “Nesta recalled a fourth object on the Dread Troves’ altar.” She looked at Nesta expectantly.

Nesta set down her cup. “I could not see much,” she admitted, “the vision was veiled in mist. But I remember the gleam of it to this day—a bone, aged and worn-out, yet still containing ancient, powerful magic.” Her hand tightened on the cup for only a moment. “It called to me. Cauldron-made to Cauldron-made. There was no denying it.”

Rhys asked, “You believe the fourth Trove is that bone?”

“It’s our only lead,” Gwyn said, “And, as it appears, not entirely a dead end.” She lifted a piece of parchment, a yellowed image painted above a text in a langue Feyre did not follow. “This is an old myth about the Seers—ones from so long before our time the exact date still remains in question,” she explained. “It seems their talents could be controlled by music—they listened to specific tones and melodies to clear their minds of the fog, usually clouding parts of their visions—and, sometimes, to even alleviate the pain.”

Nesta stilled. “Pain?”

Gwyn nodded. “It appears pain is a common side effect to the Sight. This text claims Seers are known to experience the physical impact of whatever the Sight is showing them—for example, foreseeing a stabbing might result in a Seer feeling a sharp-like sensation in their gut. Or wherever else the person would be stabbed, I suppose.”

Nesta looked aghast at the news. She looked at Feyre. “Did you know about this?”

Feyre could only stare—at her sister, then at Rhys. “No,” she whispered.

Elain had once foreseen Hybern’s twin Ravens. Had she…?

You can’t think about that right now, Rhys’s gentle voice sounded in her mind again like a soothing touch. We can only help Elain by moving forward now.

Feyre nodded, though her throat still felt tight.

“How does this tie to the fourth Trove?” Rhys asked Gwyn, ever so patient.

The priestess slid the parchment across the table. “Take a look at what the eldest Seer is holding.”

Feyre glanced down and stilled.

“Is that…” she started, the question dying on her tongue.

“A bone,” Gwyn agreed, finishing it for her. “According to this text, it was the eldest Seer’s family heirloom, taken from the body of his ancestor, that he used to enhance his abilities.” She glanced at the two rulers across from her. “It could not only clear the fog, but allow him to navigate his visions as he pleased, stay within them for as long as he needed, sometimes replaying it over and over before its meaning became clear to him at last. It is also said,” the priestess added, “that the Bone could be used to induce visions, allowing the Seer to find answers to whatever questions pressing him at the time.”

Feyre sucked in a breath. “This—this could change everything.”

Gwyn’s freckled face seemed grim. “Unfortunately, this is all I was able to find on the Bone, and even it being a Dread Trove is only my theory. The myth does not stem from a different, original text—finding anything even remotely related to this story would require the aid of researchers far more experienced than I am.”

Feyre looked at Rhys.

“Please don’t tell me you’re actually considering this,” Nesta sighed, seemingly reading the silent words from her sister’s face.

Feyre narrowed her gaze. “You may not like him, but he is perhaps the only ally we have that we could trust with this.”

Nesta nodded. “I know—I’ll go.”

Rhys straightened, as though another voice had just requested permission into his mind. “I believe that won’t be necessary,” he said after a second of a pause.

The entryway flashed auburn, revealing none other than—

“No need to start brooding, Nesta Archeron,” Lucien drawled, Nesta’s eyes flashing an ice-cold flame. His gaze slid to Feyre. “And here I thought I was the one bringing the news,” he added, Rhys apparently having already filled him in on the conversation mind-to-mind.

Rhys smiled at Gwyn, who gaped at the newest guest—at the golden eye and the cruel scar slashed across it. “Thank you, Gwyn. Your help has been more invaluable than I can put into words”

Gwyn’s returning smile was tight. “If only there was an easier way to do this.”

Feyre sighed, resting her back against the soft seat. “I really miss the Bone Carver.”

———

Lucien returned the next day, his face unreadable enough to make Elain shift on her feet.

She did not know where he’d gone that had taken up an entire night and half the day—but the looming speculation that his absence had something to do with Elain grew heavier and heavier over her with each passing minute he was gone.

Jurian was already awake—had been since midday, actually, a fact that made Elain have to keep from gritting her teeth as the general seemed to have made it his mission to follow her around the house every step of the way. His mistrust towards his friend’s mate was nearly palpable, and no amount of polite smiles or I’m just going to go and find something to read had managed to keep him away as she tried to search for the godsdamned box.

Elain was growing more and more desperate. She’d been given a week, and a task that had originally seemed doable enough (find a way into the manor, search for the stolen box, deliver it back to its original owner) was very quickly proving more difficult than anticipated. The box was here—she could sense it now, its magic calling out her name and filling her nostrils with the mouldy scent of earth. Vassa had hidden it well enough, though—Elain could not, for the life of her, find its location based on scent alone, silently cursing herself for not using all those months to ask Rhysand’s shadowy wraiths for basic tracking training. What good would all that baking do to her now?

The most important thing was that she remained at the house—that she kept distracting its occupants with a smile after smile, vision after vision, spilled blood after spilled blood, until she finally found the one thing she’d been asked to do and be rewarded with, quite literally, everything.

By the end of this week, Elain Archeron was going to, once again, become human.

And then…then she could finally live.

When Lucien found her, she was lounging in the drawing room, her favourite childhood book she’d found in the study propped up innocently on her knees as Jurian watched her closely from a corner. She sat up immediately, dread building in her chest all over again as she met Lucien’s hardened stare.

I know what you did, he could say. I’ve looked into your soul and found the rot you’ve invited into it. I know who you are, Elain Archeron, and I won’t ever let you become who you’re supposed to be.

Lucien sighed deeply. “Pack your things, sunshine. We’re going to the Day Court.”

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[whywhaatt]

write some angst. huge sad angst. argument? sure! fucking idk make me cry. any cc, idc, just make me sad.

we got some sad shit baby💪💪💪

"You need to leave." (big t x reader)

words: 1.368

a/n: ok so basically... i just got drunk, then when i was sober i wrote how i was thinking. sorry if its hard to read but have fun :)

warnings: alcohol mention + use, yelling, and a whole lot of cussing

-

Tanner is getting on my god damn nerves. Last night, I spent the night alone in my apartment and dressed for a date that did not happen. Every text and call I send him I get no answer. I can't tell if I'm supposed to be upset, worried, or pissed off but somehow I'm feeling all three.

For context, we've had this date planned for a couple of weeks. It's already been postponed due to my job or random things Nick asks him to do. And after 3 weeks, we finally both had a free day to have a simple and good date.

15 missed calls, 50+ texts, and 10 hours later I just parked my car in front of Tanner's house. I've gotta calm down. It could've been a mistake, a stupid mistake at that but we all mistakes. No what am I thinking, he deserves to get yelled at. So many thoughts are going through my head. At one point I'm pissed off, but on the other I don't know what happened.

I grab my shit, locking my car behind me, and walk up to the front door. Giggling at the "gay" welcome mat, I ring the door bell... no answer. Okay? I'll just ring it again... no answer again. What is going on? Nick's room is right here, at least he should be able to hear it.

I'm calling Nick.

"Hello?" He picks up the phone.

"Hey Nick, I'm outside. Can you let me in?"

"Yeah sure, one sec" He hangs up. A couple of seconds later, the door opens. A simple "thanks" comes out my mouth all muffled as I shove past Nick to walk towards Tanner's room. Isaac sitting on the couch, looks up and let's me know Tanner's still asleep. Great. Just great... I don't want to wake him up in a bad mood.

Whatever. He deserves it. I need to know what happened. I slam open his door to see him laying in bed sound asleep, with alcohol bottles covering his desk and his sweatpants on the floor next to the bed. His room's a mess, well when isn't it really? The only time its considered to be clean is when you clean it.

He must've heard the door open, cus he slowly wakes up and turns over to see me standing in his room.

"Baby, w-what are you doing here?" he asks so innocently.

"What am I doing here?? I should be asking what you're doing here?" I'm basically yelling.

"What do you mean?"

"What do I mean?!? What do I- uh. I can't with you. We had a date planned for last night!"

"Wha- OH!! Baby, baby please come here. Please come here I'm so sorry."

'No- No absolutely not. What did you do last night? Tell me."

"I-I was drinking with Isaac and Yumi. We played that stupid truck sim game and streamed. Then I just drank and watched anime until I passed out I guess." He admits. What. The. Fuck. I must've said that out loud cus Tanner immediately started to apologize again, "I'm so sorry baby, I completely forgot. Please let me make it up to you".

"No, I'm going home. You better find a way to make this better" I say as I walk out his room and closing the door behind me. The guys must've heard it all happen, cus I could feel Isaac and Nick staring at me as I walk out the front door. I didn't say a word, I just kept my head low and kept walking towards my car. Once I got in my car I just needed to scream.

FUCK.

Okay, that's a little bit better.

-

I got home and immediately turned my phone completely off, tossing it on my night stand and not looking back. I just need to do something else, get my mind off of what just happened. I need a drink. I grab some alcohol from the mini fridge I keep next to my desk. It's a vodka kind of day.

5 shots in...

10 shots in...

20 gulps in...

fuuuck. maybe i should've stopped like 20 sips ago. were those even considered sips? they were too big to be sips. my brain is fuzzzzyyy.

i gottta admiT what i said to Tanner was fuckked up, but i don't mean any of it. I should text him. N-NO!! I'm not texting him.

But I miss him, no I dont. fuck im crying now. ok this is happeninggg. I need to lay down. go lay on the bed. okay. im on the bed now.

knock knock knock

what. what the fuck was what.

knock knock knock

there it is again. am i dying? fuck. is that god? it's getting louder

knock knock knock

oh wait. its my frontt dooor. silly me. i'll go open it. come on body get up. one steep at a time.

"Baby. You scared me." oohhhh iits tanner.

"H-H-Heeeeeeeyyyy Taaaannnerrrrr" wait no i'm mad at him. actually, i'm just falling, oh shit.

"Oh my god, let's get you in bed. Come on" heee says while catching me, he's so strongg. i can feel his muscles, oh my god.

im laying down now. in my bed, i don't remember getting here. oh yeah Tanner.

"Y-Youu, youung sir, you neeed to leave" i slur outt, hehe.

"I'm not leaving you like this"

"Buuut. I'm mad at you a-a-and so you need to leave."

"Just go to-"

-

I woke up in pajama's and a massive headache. What the-

"Are you okay?" Oh. I remember now. I shake my head yes and sit up to see Tanner sitting on the foot of my bed. God, I'm regretting a lot of shit now.

"Baby... I'm so sorry. Can we talk about this? I need to apologize a lot." He says, so quiet it's basically a whisper. He looks up at me meeting my eyes. Was he.. crying? His eyes were all puffy and his hair was all messed up.

"Look, I fucked up. I know I did. But, baby, please forgive me for it. This is the first date I've missed in the forever the fuck long we've been dating. You didn't deserve that. You don't deserve that. I tried to think of all the things I could buy you, or do for you, to make up. But truthfully, the best option was being here for you and letting you know I care.

"I know you don't want to hear this right now, but I love you. I love you so fucking much. At the end of the day, I would choose you over anybody. Please, baby, just forgive me so I can forgive myself." Tanner whispers, a few tear leaving his eyes.

"It's sad, the first thought I had is that you were cheating on me. Then I thought you died, or just decided you hated me. I spent all of last night on the couch crying in the outfit I would've worn. I'm sorry I yelled at you, I just let my emotions get the best of me. You just... You really scared me. I thought I lost you." I confess. I can't make eye contact with him. I close my eyes as streams of tears run down my face and onto the pillow I've been holding. I feel the bed shift and I think Tanner got up and walked away, but suddenly I feel a pair of arms wrap around me.

-

For the past 30 minutes Tanner and I have been doing the 3 C's: cuddling, crying, and comforting.

"Relationships are hard" I think aloud.

"Yeah but we make it work." Tanner says, kissing my neck. My head is still pounding from all the alcohol I had, I can imagine Tanner was feeling the same when I yelled at him. To whoever said relationships were supposed to be easy, fuck you. It's hard to put your total 100% trust and love into one person all the time. And on top of that, you get that back. Plus work, or school, and making sure you're still taking care of yourself.

"I'm glad I have you" I confess.

Today was a long ass day.

a/n: this one is shorter, but i honestly cried while writing it. sorry if the drunk part is too hard to read!! requests are open so do whatever you will with that information. love yall, and thank you so much for all the support

#the group chat #the group x reader #big t streaming #tanner x reader #bigt x reader #angst #alcohol #yelling #apology

[wrenreid]

Off Limits

mostly nsfw story | haven’t checked for typos

Part Twenty-Four

It’s been 7 days, 9 hours, and 12 minutes. This case has kept me away from her for a little over a week now.

I find that every day that passes within our little relationship, I grow more fond of her. No - fond isn’t the word I would use. I like her more, my feelings grow, I fall for her deeper and deeper. I don’t know how to describe it, every word combination seems silly.

All I know is that our connection has strengthened, deepened with time, and I find her crossing my mind when I hear certain words or see certain things. For example, the candle on JJ’s desk the other day reminded me of Jade. She loves candles, has at least 16 of them in her family’s apartment.

It’s only been 7 days, but I miss her. I miss her voice, the smell of her hair and how its sweet scent wafts to my nose when she lays her head on my shoulder, her laugh, especially the one she tries to hide that sounds like animal giving birth. Okay, that’s a bit of an exaggeration. Of course, I miss kissing and touching her, feeling her soft skin beneath my finger tips. Most importantly, I just miss being around her, talking to her. I have no idea what this feeling is because I haven’t felt it with anyone. It’s new, slightly terrifying territory.

Not only am I longing the company of my… I haven’t ask her to be my girlfriend. I want to. What if she doesn’t want that? I force my train of thought to go back on its tracks. I’m also exhausted from this case. The hotel bed and the fact that due to occupancy I’ve had to hear Morgan snore 5 feet away from me every night have caused me to barely get any sleep since we got here.

The case is tricky, time consuming. We’ve finally got a lead, but we have to plan the details of this arrest precisely so no body else gets hurt.

I’ve been really productive this week. With Dad and Spencer gone, both of them only being able to really talk to me at night, I’ve had plenty of time to get things done during the day.

Of course, it’s been a little tricky with my little brother pestering me most hours of the day, but I’ve been able to occupy him with cartoons, coloring books, snacks, naps, and action figures.

I’ve gotten all of my work done for this week and the next. Finals are coming up so we are getting into review topics. I cleaned around the apartment the other day since my father never has time to, doing the dishes, laundry, helping Jack pick up his room, and organizing the kitchen. I’ve also gone to the park with Jack and caught up on binge watching my current hyperfixation tv show, which yes, I consider that productivity.

I miss Spencer. I know it’s only been a week, but It’s weird not seeing him for this long. Especially since he’s been so busy and hasn’t been able to text me more than 3 short messages a day: “Good morning!” “Have a good day.” and “Almost done for the day. Can we call later?”

Things between us have definitely changed. I’m not entirely sure what it is, but I’ve noticed our dynamic alter a bit. Not in a bad way either. I think we’re on a deeper level of connection.

Anyway, I hope they come home soon. I miss my dad too, and not just because I want him to take my sometimes pain in the ass of a brother off my hands.

“Hey kiddos,” my dad says with a cheesy grin as he walks through the apartment door. He looks tired, but relieved to be home.

“Daddy!” Jack abandons his toy card and jumps into his arms before he can even set down his go bag.

As the two of them embrace, I stand up to give him a hug as well. “How was the case?”

“Not too bad, just long and elaborate. A few of us got a little banged up though,” Dad tells me, releasing his arm from around me and setting Jack onto his feet.

My mind immediately wonders if Spencer’s okay. I know my dad would’ve said something if someone was seriously injured, but I can’t help my anxiety.

I check the time on my phone. “Let me cook dinner tonight,” I offer, my gaze meeting the dark circles under my father’s brown eyes.

He smiles and nods. “I’d love that.”

After talking a little while longer, I head to the kitchen to get dinner started. In between making sure things don’t burn, I text Spencer, reading his updates on the week.

“Can I come over later?”

I ask.

“Please do.”

I smile down at his words and get back to cooking. After dinner, Dad and I talk while we clean up the kitchen.

“I’m heading to bed early tonight. As soon as Jack’s down, it’s lights out for me.”

I chuckle softly, my eyes showing the sympathy I have for my father’s lack of sleep or relaxation for the past 8 days.

“God, I missed you,” Spencer says as his arms wrap around my waste. He barely let me get through his apartment door before pulling me into him. He smells like soap and vanilla woods, and his hair is still damp from the shower.

I rest my head on his chest, arms around the back of his neck as I let him hold me for however long he wishes. “I missed you too, Spencer.”

He lets me go after a good half minute, smiling down at me with his adorable grin, his dimples on full display. I smile right back up at him in adoration until I notice some bruising on his jaw and cheek bone.

“What happened?” I hold his face, brushing my thumb against his darkened skin gently.

“A little altercation with the unsub. Even Morgan has a black eye right now,” Spencer says matter of factly.

“You’re okay?”

“I’m okay,” he nods. “You should see the other guy.”

I laugh softly before grabbing his hand and leading him to his couch. We sit down together, my head on his shoulder and his hand on my thigh.

I kiss his shoulder through his shirt, and I can see the corners of his lips perk up. Spencer removes his hand from my thigh and uses it to lift my chin up so he can kiss me. My lips return the gesture immediately.

We give each other a couple of sweet pecks and a few longer kisses before settling back into our cuddling positions and turning on the tv. It’s nice to just be here next to him.

As if he can tell what I’m thinking, he kisses the top of my head, scootching in closet even though it’s not quite possible.

Bar on east 4th tonight. The whole team is coming. I’m expecting you to be there, pretty boy.

I roll my eyes at the text that pops up on my phone screen. I’m not exactly in the gathering mood, but I guess it wouldn’t hurt to go. We haven’t been able to all get together outside of work in at least a year. I suppose I’ll stop by for an hour or so.

At 8, I get ready to leave for the bar. Jade’s voice telling me not to wear work attire to casual outings rings in my head, so I opt for a more relaxed white button up (no tie), dark fitted jeans, and my pair of purple converse I don’t wear often enough.

I arrive early, of course, but my coworkers, no, friends enter the bar soon enough, some coming in pairs and some alone. We all gather at a table until there’s not enough chairs. Morgan and Emily take a seat at the bar, already ordering drinks.

As time moves on, my peers are fueled with alcohol, some more than others. Hotch drinks his scotch very sophisticatedly. It’s a little intimidating at times that he never actually seems to drop his professionalism.

JJ orders a basket of fries for the table which Morgan takes a few every time he passes by on his way from the dance floor to the bar and vise versa. He and Penelope seem to be having the time of their life dancing, having no care in the world. Emily takes JJ’s hand as we’re in conversation, dragging her to the floor to dance with her. This leaves me, Rossi, and Hotch at the table, sipping drinks - I ordered a vodka soda about thirty minutes ago, and I’m only 2/3 of the way done with it.

The three of us make conversation, talking about whatever. I like the way Hotch smiles when I correct Rossi on a slight mistake he made when we were discussing something. It’s like he’s proud. Which that admiration I feel quickly turns to guilt because I’m going behind his back and seeing his daughter.

Around 10, we’re all seated at the table, talking and laughing at each other. I’m the most sober, and the drunkest of the bunch are amusing me.

Somehow, the conversation topic turns to sexual situations and who has the most game.

“Spencer could have game if he didn’t spill so many random facts,” JJ says then shoots me a loving I’m sorry but it’s true look.

“Hmm I don’t know about that,” Morgan says with a devious grin. “He’s too awkward for game. Maybe if he had like three drinks in him and relaxed a bit. Maybe.”

I can feel my face beating red. I hate being the subject of discussion, especially when it’s a topic like this.

“Have you ever actually been with a girl?” Morgan asks, genuinely curious. “Or guy, I don’t judge.”

I shoot him a glare. There’s no way I’m talking about this right now. “Shut up.”

“So no?” Emily teases.

A few more words are said, and laughs are shared. Laughs at me. Well, they may think they’re laughing with me, but I am no longer amused. Even Hotch is laughing a little.

Something in me lights up, and I rise from my seat. “You guys are unbearable when you’re drunk.”

I leave, despite the protests. But I’m not leaving because they hurt my feelings. I’m going to Jade.

Fuck it if she’s off limits.

tags: @pauline5525mgg @theintimatewriter @lilibet261 @greysviolets @jazzymariexoxoc @one-sweet-gubler @thatsonezesty13 @necromaniackat @awhoreforspencerreid @sebs-oxygen @scarredelirium @bts-sugaplum @awesomeness1679 @preciousbabypeter @yazzyu @cynbx @r3idsp3ncer @1010lizz @tiredbut-here @skulzombiw @lena-1895 @eevee0722 @shakespear-picaso-lovechild @daydreamingqueen1 @regulus-black-223048 @virginmusicloverr36 @jazzerbelle14 @kylakins88 @f-me-reid @lovejules888 @marimorena06 @daph-421 @idkusername8787 @axen-gers

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid angst #spencer reid #mgg x you #spencer reid smut #mgg angst #mgg fic #spencer reid and reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid series #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid criminal minds #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fandom #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fluff #mgg #dilf spencerreid #criminal minds x y/n #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid x fem!readr #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid hands #dr spencer reid #spencer reid hair #spencer reid x oc #spencer reid x fanfiction

[bearbluebooks]

Christmas in Velaris - Chapter Three

Read on AO3 or under the image :)

Chapter 3

December 5th, 17:55

Evening announced its resting call half an hour ago, when the darkness of night replaced the bright sky. Normally, Gwyn would be sitting on her sofa with her feet resting gently on the coffee table. A cup of piping hot sleepy time tea in one hand, and her latest smutty book in the other.

Not today.

With an increased heart rate and hurried steps, she made her way down to her neighbor. Why was she nervous? She just needed to be herself. And bring muffins.

Last night, she promised herself to go as soon as everything opened, but when she left the bookshop at nine a.m. the maintenance guy showed up.

It would be fine. She could still meet them today. Most people worked until 6 pm, didn’t they? Either way, she couldn’t remove herself from the chores any earlier than that.

Every finished task brought two new ones with them- when she cleared the piles and piles of old books in front of an old chair, rotting wood hid underneath. When she fixed the door that didn’t close properly, a part of the roof fell down. “That’s not my area of expertise,” the elderly man responded with his hands in the air when he looked at the thousands of white pieces fall down.

All it did was add urgency to the Christmas competition.

The Christmas Competition, she suddenly remembered with a jolt. 

She reached the door in seconds. When she flung it open, the steep rackety stairs that led to her apartment were revealed. With two steps at a time, she reached her goal faster: the chocolate muffins that she baked last night. At least she would have, if she had not mis stepped and landed flat on her face with a loud shriek.

Mouse, who appeared out of thin air, seemed to be awakened by the sudden noise as her tired brown head peered through the small crack in the door. “I know, I know,” Gwyn said to the animal who always appeared without making any noise.

No time to lose, she thought as she pushed herself up and made her way to the kitchen. Even though her chin ached, and her knee throbbed, she had to meet her neighbor. One look down revealed her dirty overalls, her knitted red turtleneck, and her beaten-down all-stars.

First impressions mattered but she was all out of time, the chocolate muffins would have to do. She gave one final goodbye to Mouse, who resumed her nap on the couch, as she grabbed her coat and her keys, “Wish me luck!”

With more considerate steps, she finally made it to her neighbor. One hand ran down her overalls, whilst the other held the muffins tight to her chest.

One breath in and a long one out eased her nerves enough to observe the building.

That’s strange, she thought. The building was black and made entirely of marble. No sign to be seen. Two humungous glass doors offered the only clue as to what lay inside. 

With two gloved hands and her nose on the glass, she peered inside. 

Small spots of condensation formed on the place where her breath met the coldness of the glass. 

What sort of shady business was this?

The last time she was here, the whole street was filled with cozy little shops- flower stores, bakeries, and bookshops. 

This looked like a villain’s liar.

She almost turned back when the doors opened and a deep voice said “Are you stalking me?”

Was she living in some kind of Groundhog Day? 

With raised eyebrows and wide eyes, she perceived the large frame in the expensive suit. Without looking away from those scrutinizing hazel eyes, she said in her most confident tone, “Azriel.”

Of course, he was her neighbor. 

The gods had a wicked sense of humor. Only she wasn’t the one laughing, and neither was Azriel. With a shake of his head and narrow eyes, he looked her up and down. Even though she was wearing her warmest winter clothes, she felt utterly exposed under his watchful gaze. 

“What are you doing here?” He finally asked.

With two outstretched hands, she said “I made you these muffins.” 

She could swear that was an eye roll as he said, “I hate muffins.”

“You still hate muffins?” She said in pure shock. In all her years she still hadn’t met anybody who hated muffins with as much passion as Azriel.

“Maybe you can give them to your secretary. Or your colleagues?” She said as she attempted to look over his shoulder.

Without thinking she blurted out “Or do you plan the destruction of Velaris all by yourself?”

Internally she slapped herself. She needed to make friends, not enemies. She was still here with one goal. “I mean-“

Was that… laughter?

“It does look like that doesn’t it.” He said with a genuine smile that even reached his eyes. 

“I will give them to Mor, she will bother you to bake more as soon as I give these, you know that, right? 

She tried not to let jealousy run through her body at the mention of the beautiful blonde's name. Just as she pushed away the speculatory thoughts that entered her brain. It was none of her business what -or who- he did.

So, instead, she asked, “How is Mor?”

“She’s good. As long as Emerie is not in the vicinity.” 

Emerie. One of her best friends when she still lived in Velaris. A mixture of sadness and nostalgia quickly made its way into her chest. Memories of late-night readathons and Saturday hangouts ran through her brain. Something inside her kept her from reaching out earlier. Maybe it was fear of rejection, or the guilt of leaving them. Either way, she needed to see them.

This was also a chance for new beginnings. With a smile, she made a mental note to hunt both of them down tomorrow.

Suddenly, Azriel's hand moved to her face and her treacherous body became paralyzed in anticipation until he spoke the words, “You have something on your face,” and all tension slithered away.

“Here,” he said as took a handkerchief out of his pocket. When he removed whatever was on her face, brown stained the previously pristine white cloth.

“Gross!” she exclaimed. 

“You can say that. What is that?” He asked as he leaned nonchalantly against the black marble wall.

“Azriel,” she said as she slapped him against his chest. “You let me walk around with that on my face?” With her entire being she wished for the ground to swallow her up.

“Is it gone?” she asked feeling incredibly vulnerable. Two strong hands moved to grab her shoulders to guide her to the glass doors. When she stood in front of the giant reflecting surface, she saw his body towering over her smaller frame. And she saw hazel eyes that bore into her with such intensity that her breath caught in her throat.

“See you look fine,” he said as he resumed his earlier position, seemingly unaffected by whatever she thought she saw.

“Why are you really here?” he asked with his arms crossed.

Time to spill the beans.

Although she could already guess his answer, she still had to try. “The Christmas competition it’s-“

“Absolutely not,” he said before she could even finish her sentence.

“Absolutely not? That’s interesting” a deep voice said from around the corner. “Do tell me more.” The stranger urged. 

When she saw the black hair and unique eyes that she could swear were purple some days, she finally recognized the male.

“Brother,” Azriel replied in a slightly annoyed voice. 

“Uncle Az,” the beautiful child with the same black hair and unique eyes practically screamed from behind Rhysand.

In one easy swoop, Azriel picked the child up as if he’d done it a thousand times before.

 “Who is that?” the child said from his uncle’s arms.

“Nyx, meet Gwyn, Gwyn meet Nyx,” Rhysand said smoothly.

The little boy stretched his hand out, one she gratefully accepted as she said “Hello Nyx, nice to meet you. I love your hat.”

“Thank you, my mommy made it for me,” Nyx said.

“She is beautiful, Uncle Az,” he whispered loudly into Azriel’s ear.

Gwyn could swear she saw Azriel’s eyebrows slightly elevate and his eyes widen before it returned to its stoic position.

When Azriel remained silent, Rhysand filled the empty space when he said “Welcome back Gwyn, how have you been?”

He was still as kind and charismatic as he was in high school. With a smile she answered, “I’ve been good. Thank you. How have you been?”

“Busy,” he said as he playfully ran a hand over Nyx’s head.

“So brother. What were you talking about that warranted such heavy exclamations?”

With a sigh, he answered “The Christmas competition.”

“CHRISTMAS,” Little Nyx answered with his legs shaking so hard she was impressed with Azriel’s strong hold.

“Uncle Az, Uncle Az, Uncle Az, do it, do it, do it.”

With a smile she raised her hands in the air, to tell him ‘not my fault’.

His threatening eyes told her ‘very much your fault’.

“I will come by tomorrow and I’ll discuss it, but I’m not promising anything, little man,” Azriel said with an honesty she admired. Most people would sugarcoat it only to never come back to it later.

“Okay, okay,” Nyx said surprisingly understanding.

With a pang of sadness, she admired the sight in front of her.

She missed the easiness of family. The brutal honesty and the total acceptance.

Sudenly, it felt less like a reunion and more like an intrusion. With a soft cough she anounced "It was so nice to meet you Nyx. And really nice to see you again Rhysand.”

With determinate eyes she looked straight into his as she said “I’ll see you tomorrow, Azriel. And remember CHRISTMAS." Was it evil? Maybe. But was it worth it? Definitely.

"CHRISTMAS, CHRISTMAS, CHRISTMAS." Little Nyx exclaimed. And Gwyn couldn't help her smile.

#gwynrielfic #gwynriel #gwyn x azriel #acotar fanfiction #gwyn acosf #gwyneth berdara #acotar #acotar alternate universe #ao3 fanfic #azriel shadowsinger #a court of silver flames #pro gwynriel #azriel x gwyn #gwyn berdara #gwynriel fic