#Asher’s confused but here for it

[blutomindpretzel]

Mafia Boss David Shaw makes so much sense to me… legs kicked up on the desk, arms folded against his chest as Asher explains the parameters of their latest job. (Milo’s at Asher’s side of course, making sure he’s speaking it back correctly because he doesn’t trust Ash to do the talking all on his own). I’m talking right white button downs (or black depending on the day), fitted dress pants, and expensive slacks. He’s the same old David- except way more violent.

Ash is still his right-hand-man, making most of the perceivable decisions of the public name- while David handles the finances and paperwork. He isn’t necessarily a hands-on type of guy, David would often explain. But truthfully, it all depended on the client.

Their alliance with the Solaire “clan” mafia, earned them a better name per Sam’s persistent recommendation of inspection. OOOOOHHH MAFIA DINNERS AT FANCY ASS RESTAURANTS.

Williams at one end of this big as table, and David’s on the other, as their respective members sit on each of the inside ends. It’s completely candlelit, and the tension is heavy at first until William shares his more- mischievous nature.

David Shaw is a monster. Well at least that’s what Angel’s coworkers kept telling them over their lunches in the break room. Their friend had kept up a huge debt with some “William” guy, and an allying group had come to…..collect it.

Yeah no fucking shit, this dude came to work three days later with a black eye, broken nose, and fractured spine. Whoever this group was, they were no joke. Especially this “David Shaw” character.

I’m imagining these two meeting in a back alley, some douchebag was following Angel on the streets one night when their phone had died. He was calling after them as they sped-walked to any corner store they could spot. Once the creep finally grabbed Angel’s shoulder, he was flung backwards into a nearby buildings brick wall. That’s when Angel saw him, a mountain of a man, glaring down at them.

Angel kept following after him ever since then, finding any possible way to thank him. And also maybe because they sorta kinda found him unbelievably sexy. “I don’t need a thank-you, leave me alone.” “Bullshit! Isn’t there anything I can do? Just to get me off your ass?” “….anything huh?” “Anything!” “Fine, follow me, smart ass.”

That’s how Angel ended up paying for David’s meal and snagging his number in the process.

ALRIGHT WITH SOME BACK STORY OUTTA THE WAY HERE ARE SOME GENERAL IDEAS:

Angel on David’s lap during meetings, no one can say anything because this guy’s the boss, they’d get their ass killed.

He’s super soft with them, so fucking gentle despite his—murderous tendencies. Yeah he’s a full blown yandere after he falls desperately in love with them. Like David would kill a man, then come home and wrap Angel up in his arms, peppering their face and neck in slow kisses before making them their favorite food.

Would absolutely kill anyone who fucked with them. David finding out someone made his Angel cry would be a death penalty.

#redacted asmr #redacted angel #redacted david #redacted david shaw #redacted mafia au #SEXY BOSS DAVEY #HES SO BRUTAL AND SWEET #David my love #angels still a little shit and I love them #Asher’s confused but here for it

[frog-0n-a-l0g]

Ok headcannon time

I don’t know the names of all the races I just know what they look like to me. This is a long one

David: I don’t think he’s white but idk what he is. I think he’s like mixed bc I see gave as white. I just know that in the summer he COOKS. Like this man is constantly tan but in the summer especially. I’m guessing Mexican and white

Milo: he has olive (I think that’s what it’s called) skin. Like he’s fairly dark but in a smooth way. I think he’s Filipino or Italian.

Asher: I think he’s white. I saw a post where he had heterochromia and it just goes lol. Also makes sense cause this man CANNOT cook

Lasko: he is PASTEY. like bro is almost see through. He stays in his office or his classroom and gets pretty much NO sunlight

Huxley: I can’t tell what he is but he’s kinda dark. It could either be his race or he can just be hella tan from his sports. One of his moms is Mexican or Latin I can tell you that.

Damian: I can’t pinpoint it. When I focus on it his image gets wavy. I think he’s white though.

Gavin: he’s got something going on. His skin tone is white but I don’t think he’s like actually white. Let’s blame it on him mixing things up when he made his human form

Laskos listener: I don’t have a clear image of most of the listeners but I’ve seen enough fan art for their image to be ingrained in my brain. They’re black with mid arm length butterfly locks. I think the skin tone is called umber

Caelum: he’s white with pink fluffy hair that makes him kinda look like a pink sheep. He’s also got light pink eyes?

Sam: he’s giving country man and most of the farm rootin tootin men I’ve seen have been white so I guess he looks like that. He’s also got shoulder length blond hair that he keeps in a man bun. When he was a human he used to have a gnarly tan but since he turned and can’t go into the sun he’s pastey as hell

Vincent: most of the time I see him as white but if I think about his character he kinda has the same skin tone as Milo just lighter. He’s still brown but since he hasn’t had sun for quite a bit somehow he lightened?

Guy: even before his cosplay I’ve always seen him look EXACTLY like Eric

Cam: he’s somehow a light blue?? Like a very soft blue

That’s all the people that have a constant picture in my head to be able to write it down. I hope this actually makes sense😭

#races confuse me #but here they are #redacted asmr #redacted audio #redactedverse #redacted #redactedasmr #redacted headcanons #redacted sam #redacted david #redacted gavin #redacted huxley #redacted asher #redacted damien #redacted lasko #redacted milo #redacted camelopardalis #redacted guy #redacted gabe #redacted dear #redacted vincent solaire #redacted vincent #redacted caelum

[snarkylinda]

Actually screw it, I will say it: if CM downright confirmed Spencer Reid was on the autistic spectrum they would be confirming that over half of his inner circle (and others) gave him blank stares and were overall mean to him for shit he COULDN'T help.

As if making fun of someone for harmless stuff like ranting alot wasn't bad enough already, so he was left ambiguous.

#'ambiguous' between lots of quotes because that scene with Asher exists lmao #criminal minds #spencer reid #see here os why I hate that he is the comic relief: he is not Sheldon Cooper. he is not insufferably selfish or entitled- #until he learns his lesson. he has his flaws #sure. I will be the first one to admit (and meme lmao) that he has the emotional maturity of an pineapple #but he is not mean to anyone on purpose. he is really polite. #and he more often than not DOESN'T get why he is making fun of #repeat after me: it's not friendly teasing of the person being 'teased' looks confused or downright HURT

[m1ssunderstanding]

Understanding Lennon McCartney Rewatch Part 1.3

Okay can anyone explain the “false hotel registration” thing to me? Does it mean they registered under a false name? So Paul registered under a false name so he could go fuck a girl in his room without getting in trouble with the press? I'm confused. Didn't they bring girls to their rooms all the time without getting in trouble? It doesn't make sense. Why did he feel the need to register under a different name?

Paul, talking about American conservatism, “So many organizations over here that are nuts anyway.” John, “Yeah, they're so far right they just–” tape ends. They really were brave, though. To say what they thought and risk losing what they'd only just got. I wonder who cut the recording. 

Journalist: Paul, are you planning to marry Jane Asher? John: scream ‘no.’ Go on. Lol John certainly says what he feels doesn't he?

Paul making fun of the racist question. Good job bud. 

The whole “Yesterday” thing is crazy. Like, what a feat, first of all. I think we forget how unbelievably successful the song was.

Second of all, I know John's reaction was childish and mean, but his feelings were valid if you just look at the treatment and reception of “Ticket to Ride”  (John's dead mum song). Like objectively yesterday is a better song, but still.

Oh, John. Poor thing. 

If “Girl” is secretly about Paul . . . yeesh. It's so obsessive and adoring and simultaneously so disappointed and disparaging. John always has such impossible standards for Paul. “She promises the earth to me and I believe her, after all this time I don't know why.” Um… maybe because he literally did give you the world? At so many points I find myself asking, “what more could Paul possibly have given John?”

People always take this quote as a sexuality thing, but couldn't it also be a conscience thing? Revulsion at taking advantage of the fact that all these women are fans? At the scale of his infidelity? I don't know, am I giving him too much credit?

The thing about Paul, John – and though it drives you insane, it's a big factor in why you love him -- is he's not going to be bullied into anything. If he decides to take LSD it's going to be on his own terms. And I know you think it'll bring you two closer, and you're right, but peer pressure just doesn't work on him. There's no point. You know that.

I LOVE Paul and the Indica. Designing the wrapping paper in secret up in his little attic room, covering over the shop windows so he can do his handyman work building shelves and painting in peace. It's Linda's Paul pre Linda, you know?

John is so good at PR as in making something sound as beautiful and important and powerful as possible. Which is something Paul absolutely relied on John to do and clearly could not do on his own after the break up. Look how John makes them almost into prophets here.

"I really wanted to live in London but I wouldn't risk it." Another thing to make John envious of Paul and resentful of Cynthia. I really wish those two had just never got married. 

“I don't object to people having a lot of money, I never did. But I do object to people being stony broke and starving.” RIP John, you would've loved the American “left” of today. But you can't have the former without the latter, sorry.

This picture always gets me. It's ridiculous. Pattie and George. Mo and Ringo. John and Paul. With Cynthia awkwardly by herself. It's funny. It's adorable. It's crushing. And with that quote? It's impossible.

I think Tara Browne is overlooked. Paul brought him home for Christmas. That's a big deal. And John hated him enough to laugh when he read about his death. That's also a big deal. Paul and his messed up social climbing obsession. I do think it's worth pointing out, though, the difference between Paul’s LSD trip with Tara and his trip with John. More on that later.

I really do think they were all staunchly anti-racist for their time, you know, besides John's racist jokes and drawings… but Paul particularly. And I have to wonder where that came from. Did he have empathy for people being judged on appearance and background? Was it partially due to his idolization of black artists? Did Little Richard maybe say something to him about racism in America? Anyone have any thoughts?

Actually, same, John. 

Okay and I have to share my hot take on the whole Jesus scandal. It's this: the American right doesn't actually care about Jesus. They care about protecting their hegemony. They didn't like that the Beatles were openly and stubbornly integrationist. They didn't like Paul's comment about their inhumane racism. But they couldn't openly counter that without showing their hand. So they used the Jesus comment as an excuse. If they play the religious persecution card, they get to paint themselves as the victims and therefore the good guys while they take down anyone who challenges the status quo that keeps them in money and power (aka the Beatles). 

Maybe I should've had a “poor baby” tally because the number of times I've said that about John in these comments has got to be tally-worthy. I would've driven around in a gorilla suit with you, honey!

It is actually amazing that there hasn't been more speculation on Paul's sexuality with all these serious boyfriends. 

Paul tells a story about a time he flew a plane, and how much better he liked it than being a passenger. First off. Imagine being a pilot and just being like “oh, you've never touched a joystick in your life, but you're Paul McCartney? Sure, go ahead. Fly the plane.” But also. His control issues and his confidence are both off unreal. No one in their right mind would feel more safe flying a plane – as someone with a complete lack of experience – than when a licensed pilot is flying it. 

Okay I literally JUST learned that Here There and Everywhere says, “how good it can be” not could. Can. And it's one of those in my "for sure this was about John" folder. Okay then. Wow.

The thing is they really did compliment each other's songs a lot more than modern Paul makes it seem like. So I wonder what it was about the “Here There and Everywhere” compliment that made it so special to Paul?

This footage where John is hiding behind McCharmley. I love protective Paul and how different he is to protective John and how much they needed each other. 

Hall of Fame quote: “what composer do you respect the most?” “I dunno really. John Lennon.” “Paul McCartney.”

#Sorry this one got pretty political hopefully everyone survived #paul mccartney #the beatles #john lennon #mclennon #ringo starr #george harrison #understanding lennon mccartney #ulm

[suzukiblu]

Ko-fi thank-you sentences for Lux; Billy adopts Conner and it actually goes pretty good! I, uh, was only supposed to write nine sentences for this, buuuuut I didn't only write nine sentences for this. 😅 LOOK, I HIT A GROOVE, I'M NOT SORRY. Enjoy your read-more, y'all.

“Do you want some ideas for names?” Billy offers. Most kids don’t get to “legally” name themselves quite this way, so he feels like helping Superboy pick a good name is important. He wants him to have one he really likes. “I know a lot of them. Or we could look some up online? Batman got us a desktop and got you a laptop and a tablet, in case you need one for anything. Oh, and there’s phones, so we can keep in contact! I should grab you yours, actually, it’s . . . somewhere in the kitchen, I think.” 

“‘Ideas’?” Superboy repeats, looking a little uncomfortable. “Like . . . what?” 

“I just mean suggestions,” Billy promises, immediately distracted from the phone by Superboy’s apparent discomfort. The phone can wait. “You can pick any name you want, it’s up to you. I’m not gonna, like, veto you or anything.” 

“. . . sure,” Superboy says. He still looks uncomfortable and Billy still can’t be sure he really means it, but . . . well, he just has to do his best, he guesses.

“You don’t have to decide right away, you can think it over for a bit,” he says. “But we at least need something to put on the paperwork. You can always change it later if you decide you don’t like it.” 

“Whatever,” Superboy says, his mouth thinning. Billy thinks Cadmus was sort of terrible for not giving him a name. Actually, no, Cadmus was really terrible for that.

“How about I just list some, and if you like any of them, you can just say?” he suggests. 

“Whatever,” Superboy repeats, looking away. Well . . . it’s not a “no”, at least, so Billy figures they can try, and if Superboy gets annoyed, they’ll just stop and try again later. 

“Okay,” he says. “Um . . . let’s see, what are some good ones . . . David, Asher, Zachary, Parker, Otto, Levi . . . um . . .” 

Superboy’s jaw tightens. Billy stops listing names and bites his tongue. Okay. The name thing is a sore spot, maybe. Or maybe Superboy just doesn’t like any of his suggestions and thinks he’s lame, he guesses. That might also be, like . . . a thing. 

“I’ll try to think of some more later,” Billy says, repressing a guilty wince and grasping desperately for a new topic. “Do you, uh . . . have any questions? Or anything like that?” 

Probably he should’ve asked that sooner, come to think. 

"How often are you gonna be here?" Superboy asks, still looking away. Billy can’t really read what he can see of his face very well, but hopefully once they know each other better he'll get better at that kind of thing. Like, he’ll have to, right? 

"Oh, like–pretty much whenever I'm not doing hero stuff or on any League missions," he says. "I'll make sure and tell you if I'm ever gonna be gone overnight or anything like that, okay?" 

Superboy . . . blinks. Looks back at him. 

"You're going to live here?" he asks in confusion. Billy blinks too, tilting his head.

"Yeah," he says. "I mean, it wouldn't be very nice of me to just ditch you here all by yourself, would it?" 

"I can take care of myself," Superboy says, his expression shuttering. Billy frowns. 

"Well, sure, but that doesn't mean anybody's gonna make you," he says. Just because Superboy’s physically old enough to take care of himself doesn’t mean he’s not technically still a baby. He deserves to get taken care of and have somebody help him figure out, like . . . everything, pretty much. Civilian life and superhero stuff both. 

That’s why Billy’s doing this, so . . . yeah. 

“Why?” Superboy says. 

“Because that’d be really mean,” Billy says. “And we’re the good guys, so we have to be the good guys.” 

Superboy’s jaw tightens again, and then he folds his arms and looks away again too. He looks upset. Billy wishes he knew how to fix it. Like–even just a little bit. He knows sometimes that stuff just doesn’t “fix”, but . . . still. He’s trying to be a good dad here, so he feels like he should fix things like Superboy being upset. 

Well–he guesses just letting him work through being upset is okay too, if it comes to it. For when things aren’t that easy to get distracted from. Billy would also have a lot to be upset about if he’d been made in a lab and told he was supposed to be somebody he’s not and gotten mind-controlled the first time he’d ever woken up for real. Like, that’s a really shit first day. 

Superboy must feel really weird, too. Cadmus probably didn’t really teach him how to be a kid or a teenager, since they were trying to make an adult Superman, so it’s no wonder he thinks they’re gonna make him take care of himself. Billy’s gonna have to help him learn how being a kid works, he’s pretty sure. 

Well, he can do that. And, well, Superboy’s friends can cover the “teenager” stuff, he guesses. Like, probably. 

. . . maybe he could find a couple parenting books or something. A parenting book might be a good idea. 

"I just don't get it," Superboy says after a long moment staring at the wall, tensing his folded arms. "What about when you have to get back to your real life? Like your . . . your job and your house and your . . . family. This is keeping you away from all that." 

"Oh," Billy realizes, blinking at him in surprise. He guesses Superboy probably would expect him to have that kinda stuff, huh. "No, I don't really . . . have any of those, technically? I mean, I am human, I wasn't lying or anything, I just don't have a job or another house or anything like that. Actually the Justice League is paying for all of this, 'cause we were all talking about the best place for you to live and Superman asked if maybe I could take care of you, and I had to tell him I couldn't 'cause I didn't actually have anything to take care of you with, but Batman said the League could set up a stipend to pay for stuff and help me get a place and all that if I wanted to do it, sooooo . . ." 

". . . Superman asked you to take care of me?" Superboy asks hesitantly, shifting in his bean bag and finally glancing back to him again. 

"Yeah," Billy confirms with a nod, a little relieved that Superboy’s looking at him again. Well–close to him, anyway. He’s not quite making eye contact, but that’s fine. "Well, him and Batman. Because my powers are kinda close to yours so I can help you train and stuff, but also Kryptonians are vulnerable to magic so if you've got any mind control triggers in your head that we missed I should be able to stop you without having to hurt you. Like I could restrain you until we could help you or until you could snap out of it on your own, I mean." 

"Oh," Superboy says, blinking slowly. "I just figured somebody had some kryptonite somewhere in case something like that happened." 

"No," Billy says, frowning at the thought. Geez, what kind of an awful dad would he be if he did that? He's seen what kryptonite does to Superman and it totally sucks. "Kryptonite hurts. I'm not gonna let anybody use kryptonite on you. Er–well, probably eventually a bad guy will when you're on a mission, that's kind of how those go, but we're definitely not gonna keep any here.” 

"Why not?" Superboy asks, frowning back at him. "It's more efficient than actually fighting me. And I might injure you if I'm like that." 

"Yeah," Billy says. "But also somebody bad could use it against you if they ever broke in and found it. And this is, um–well. This is your home now, so I don't think there should be things that could hurt you in it anyway." 

Superboy stares blankly at him again. Billy tries not to fidget. 

"There were lots of things that could hurt me in Cadmus," Superboy says, his face staying very, very blank in a way that Billy immediately hates. 

"Well, this isn't Cadmus," Billy says firmly, trying to look as sincere and trustworthy and dad-ly as he knows how to. He had a really, really great dad. He can pay that forward. Superboy deserves a great dad too. "I'm taking care of you now, and I don't want kryptonite or anything like it around you. Ever." 

Superboy stares at him. His expression is really complicated-looking and Billy doesn't understand it, so he just keeps trying to look as dad-ly as possible. Hopefully that'll help, or at least won't hurt. 

". . . what about your family, though?" Superboy asks after a long moment, flicking his eyes away uncomfortably. Billy really hopes he's doing this right. "Or do you, uh, not have one of those either?" 

"Um," Billy says. "Well, I have the worst uncle in the world who I really hope is rotting in prison somewhere by now, but otherwise it's just you."

"What?" Superboy frowns again, looking confused. "What's just me?" 

"Uh . . . my family?" Billy replies, a little embarrassed. He hasn't actually had any family that he could still want to be around in . . . well, a really long time now, so it feels sort of weird to say it, but it is true. Dubiously-legally true, given all the fake paperwork Batman’s been putting together, but still true. 

Superboy gives him the blank stare yet again. Billy feels like a moron, but–well, he's not gonna take it back. Even if Superboy thinks he's presuming too much too quick or something, which admittedly he kinda is, Billy also can't imagine how awful it'd be hearing someone call you their family and then say they weren't really or hadn't actually meant it or just . . . whatever. 

Superboy might not even care if he did, but . . . 

Well. Billy would care. So he's not gonna.

Ever.

#rinfic #lux #wip: billy adopts conner and it actually goes pretty good!

[teafairywithabook]

How Redacted Characters Wrap Gifts Pt 1

Happy Holidays, whatever you celebrate! I thought this would be a fun post, so here's how I envision various Redacted bois would wrap their gifts...

WOLF BOIS

David: Knows how to wrap neatly, but man, it's basic. When he tries to write names straight onto the gifts in biro, Angel ends up taking the gifts away and adding little bows and ribbons. Proper gift tags go on, too.

Milo: This man has dinner socks, you think he doesn't get fancy wrapping paper? Enlists Sweetheart to put their finger on the bow cuz they can phase shift and he can pull it tight.

Asher: Look, gifts are wrapped. Mostly. You'd probably get the same effect if you put the gift, tape and paper in the tumble dryer and hope for the best but he tries, bless him.

VAMPS

Vincent: Gets things delivered already wrapped.

Porter: Doesn't really do gifts. If forced (probably by Will) uses a gift bag.

Sam: Knows how to wrap better than Darlin', and usually ends up doing theirs too. He suspects it was on purpose to get out of doing it.

Will: Can do fancy origami shit and doesn't use tape.

D.A.M.N Bois

Damien: Very neat, matching wrapping paper and tags.

Huxley: Uses the same paper for everyone. Forgets to label gifts, and ends up with mass confusion on the day when he can't remember who had which unnamed present. Ends up having to get people to swap gifts!

Lasko: Thoughtful paper chosen for each person. Doesn't use the same paper twice in case "someone notices". Noone is sure why this matters. Everyone appreciates it anyway.

Gavin: Loves holographic paper. Uses it a lot, and is delighted when people give it to him. I don't know why, it's a vibe I get from him! It's not Christmassy, but hey.

Caelum: Uses plain paper and goes to town with stickers. It's much more fun and personal. Adds so many bows and ribbons it's not even funny.

#redacted david #redacted asher #redacted milo #redacted vincent #redacted sam #redacted porter #redacted william #redacted damien #redacted huxley #redacted lasko #redacted gavin #redacted caelum #redacted asmr #redacted audio #redacted headcanons

[redactahoe]

pretty darlin appreciation listener addition

this is a compellation of everyone finding darlin hot and darlin not getting it this is part 1 with all the relevent listeners and part 2 will include the boys this is inspired by @whorefordarlin btw

this might be long af

the only physical trait i give to trait is a beefy build and short hair tw: alot of simping shenanigans, mention of shitty foster care parents/neglectful parents, i cant spell so be warned

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

angel:(set durring darlins first meeting back)

angel had no idea what to expect from this 'mysterious pack member'. but it definitely wasn't this. i mean give angel some credit with the way the pack described the pack member it made them out to be some sort biker gang delinquent with and eye patch or something! but no the person Infront of the angel was most definitely not what they expected.

they were about 6 inches taller than them and and had a very pretty face with all kinds of pretty piercings on it. they were wearing a patched up leather jacket with a tank top under neath, tattered but tight jeans, and some beat up combat boots. all of this layered on top of they're very broad frame.

"Hi, i'm angel! nice to meet you!" angel greets with a nervous but excited glint in their eyes.

"oh! davids mate right?, nice to meet you too." tanker greeted back and GOOODD!! their voice was so fucking sexy. their voice was deep with a slight rasp to it that made angels face go red and burst into a fit of flustered giggles.

thus began the slightly awkward conversation between angel and tanker before the pack meeting started. with a red faced angel barely being able to keep together and a very concerned tank trying to decipher what all the giggling means

"hey by the way i think i scared your mate...". the pack meeting finally ended. tank ad david were going some final things when tank brought up angels strange behavior's.

david let out an amused huff "pft- i don't think you have to worry about tanker." he had this amused all knowing smile spread across his face recalling the 5 minute rant angel went on about just how hot tanker was.

"i- what does that mean???"

"don't worry about"

babe:(set in a library near asher and babes apartment)

"baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaabe im bored.." asher was starting to remember why he disliked libraries so much. they were everything he wasn't, quiet.

"asher i told you that you didn't have to come in with me today" asher's fiancé thick accent rang out quietly through the room. today babe had been called in the fill the last few minutes of someone's shift at the library because they had to go home early.

but before asher could reply the bell at the front door rings out as a very familiar head of white hair is spotted

"well hey there tanker, what you doin' here?" asher genuinely forgot that tank actually loved reading but he loved teasing (lovingly) them about it. "i could ask you the same thing, aren't you the one who constantly complains about libraries being boring or something?" tanker sarcastically shot back.

babes head wiped around breaking out of their concentration at the new voice. so this was the elusive 'super hot biker that comes in every Saturday', as their coworkers described them.

and that description was pretty accurate. they had sharp, half lidded eye that had this twinkle to them that made babe feel like they were in a ya novel when the made eye contact with the very attractive wolf. they some how have both a baby face and a nice sharp jawline and the same time. their hair was cut short and was slightly messy that made them some how even hotter. they were dressed in a lazy zip up hoodie and a band t-shirt along with the forbidden grey sweat pants.

they were hypnotic, alluring, fucking enchanting they wer-

"hey you good?" a deep rasping voice snaped them out of their own spiral. making them realize that A. they had been starring at poor confused wolf and B. asher had this all knowing, shit eating grin spread across his stupidly handsome face.

"o-oh right, um h-how can i help you?" shit their all flustered now and probably made tanker uncomfortable as well

"ive just come to return these." they answered noticeably not making eye contact with them, and thankfully. babe didn't now if the could keep together any longer if they had to keep looking at those bewitching eyes of theirs.

tanker heaves the stack of books they were holding onto the counter. "um o-oh y-yeah okay, let me just...." babe trailed off as they focused back to their work.

the transaction went by pretty fast with tank and Asher playfully bantering back and forth all the while babe processed the book returns. eventually all books were processed and tank was off on their way. Asher turns to them with the same shit eating grin on his face and states "aren't i glad you met me before tanker huh?"

sweetheart:(first day at high school, they're childhood besties)

"its okay, im sure this new family and school will really click with you!" sweethearts social worker had always been an optimistic women even though both of them knew the women was partially lying.

rita had been sweethearts social worker since they 6. so she most likely knew the whole song and dance of sh being forgotten and then eventfully returned. but she didn't know was that a new family meant new neglectful parents but it also meant new asshole kids and new neglectful teachers.

"sure..." to be entirly honest with you they weren't exactly excited, with the old bullies it was easy to predict and avoid. but with new bullies there was always a learning period and those always hurt the worst.

but eventually and much to sweethearts dismay they arrived to their final destination, met their new family and unpack their things into their "bedroom'. though you couldnt really call it a bedroom, it was more like mattress and night stand in an unfinished basement but they've had worse.

it took awhile but sleep came and went. they were up and out of the door by 5 am sharp, theyve made it a habit to not stick around and 'be a bother'. they sat down at the bus stop and got emersed into a book, the wait would be long after all.

they were so emersed they didn't notice the warm body that sat next to them. that was until of course that person fell asleep and start to let a soft snore. turning to look at them had sweetheart slightly fluster but also worry.

they had remarkably clear skin for a 15 year old and had short but shaggy hair that fell over and framed their face almost perfectly. but on the other hand they dressed and had the general demeaner of a typical bully. the cool and Grundy punk style they had to them though didn't come of as forced like alot of the others, it looked so natural and so good on them, well good enough to make sweethearts teenage heart flutter.

......okay that may have been a bit of a stretch since the person was asleep, but this was a good opportunity to scope out a possible danger that didn't with sweetheart getting pummeled... hopefully.

a sharp and admittedly cute snort interrupted sh's thoughts as that person woke up. there was a bleary almost adorably clueless look in their eyes as they but two and two together on where they were.

they looked around and made eye contact with sweetheart, then looked down at the book they had. and smiled...... but then quickly looked straight ahead

why did they have to be so. god. damn. gorgeous????

and what makes it worse (read as: better) was that they didnt even know any one knew about this book!!!

"u- um do you like this series?"

why did the say?!?!?! what compelled sweetheart to blurt that out in the most awkward way possibl-

"oh um, yeah its actually my favorite..." there was a slight nervous chuckle at the end of that sentence that made sh's heart sore in ways they never felt before.

the question and reply started an unlikely friendship between the two that no one, not even sweetheart saw coming. all because sh' thought the were pretty and liked the same book

lovely:(lovely was getting repairs done on their guitar when tank walks in)

this was the worst.....

lovely couldn't believe they had to sit here in this ironically quit music store. it was days like these they wish Vincent could go out into sunlight. it would mean at the very least they would have him there to bored along with them. but alas that wasn't the case.

they heard that this store in particular was good at repairs with instruments and had decent prices though. it was a small music shop that was decorated with history music, old expensive instruments lined the walls with a few poster of famous rock a metal idols along with them.

the only other person in the store with them was this older Hispanic man that looked like a much older Gómez Addams

suddenly the man shot up from his seat as soon as the shop bell ringed.

" aye!!! i havent seen in awhile where have you been lobo?!" the older Hispanic man that was working on their guitar asked with excitement towards the person

"ive been busy old man, i cant just hang around the shop all day like i did when i was kid." the deep raspy voiced stranger responded with amusement.

and when they came just a little close..... they just were so pretty???

lovely didnt even know if it was just the lighting or something but they were prettier than Vincent! and Vincent was stage 10 pretty boy but this random person in this small little music shop was prettier!?!? now dont get them wrong they love Vincent very much but for a brief moment they considered snapping a picture and asking Vincent for a polycule with this random but very attractive stranger. all the while the stranger was conversation with the old clerk while he works on lovely's guitar they were able to get a good look at them.

they well built but like in that really hot muscular with a layer of softness over the muscles that made them look both very strong but very huggable, the had soft short hair that lovely would've broken bones to run their had through. in their eyes there was this mysterious almost teasing look to them that had lovely hooked and all types of hot and bothered. everything about them was just so tantalizing.

the stranger or lobo as the store clerk called them had this aura around them that could only be described as playful but mysterious and those scars looked so good. lovely didn't know many people in real live make having scars so sexy-

" how did you fuck up this thing so bad??" the older clerk cries throwing his hands on his head in distress snapped them out of their small simping spiral. when looking at what the old man was talking about they saw a well used and loved bass sitting on the counter, guitar was already finished and set off to the side.

the body of the bass was slightly cracked and the strings looked like they were a tap away from snapping.

"I told you've i've been busy...." lobo trailed off almost ashamed of the state of their bass"

the older man only mumbled something in spanish about bullshit excuses and turned of to call out to lovely, telling them he's done with the repairs and told them the price. they paid and excited the building only catching the beginning of a likely very hefty scolding about the importants of bass care.

they immediately whipped out their phone once out of ear shot and called Vincent.

"vinney you will not believe i just saw someone prettier that you!!!"

okay thats it for now thxs for reading, srry for any spelling mistakes

#redacted asmr #redacted audio #redactedverse #redacted darlin #redacted asher #redacted david #redacted rambles #redacted angel #redacted baaabe #redacted baabe #redacted lovely #redacted shaw pack #redacted sweetheart #redacted vincent #redacted vincent solaire

[ejunkiet]

Favourite Davey/Angel fics >:3

so aside from my own series 'jaws that bite, claws that catch', that i'm absolutely gonna plug here, here is a short list of my fave davey/angel fics hehehe

but really, I'm looking for more, please rec me your favourite fics!!

--

An Angel In Wolf's Clothing by ByTheAshTree

David has something he needs to tell Angel. Something that has to be said, before their relationship can go any further.

can't tell you how many times I have reread this one, okay.

Phases of You by inthedarkestlight

David’s hand found theirs, and he plucked it from where they’d had it against his chest, twined their fingers together, and presented them both to his father. A length of leather cord was slowly wrapped and knotted around their joined hands as Gabe spoke: “Now you are bound one to the other, with a tie not easy to break. Take this time of binding, as the final vow is made to learn what you need to know – to grow in wisdom and love. That your union will be strong, and that your love will last, in this life and beyond.”

I love this story. it's a long fic, and complete, and I love the unique take on angel as a shifter, and the dynamics of rivals to lovers. <3

Growling by @dominimoonbeam

They've only been dating for a month and Davey is still trying to convince himself this isn't a big deal and he doesn't care, when Angel calls in the middle of the night sounding off.

protective davey is everything. bless you domini, this is still one of my favourites. (don't cry also, for angel and asher's friendship ;u;)

it just slipped my mind by @nat-seal-well

Of course, given their luck, they really shouldn’t be as surprised as they are when the first drop of water lands right on their nose. It still makes them look up, blinking in confusion towards the gray blanketing all of Dahlia.

another fic I have downloaded and reread often. just. perfect characterisation, and soft early angel/davey dynamics.

bonus smutty fics below the cut~

Down, Boy by @k9rage

“Down boy,” they laugh breathlessly when he bites at their neck a bit harder than intended, and he growls low in warning, only for their fingers to loop around the collar around his neck in reminder. They’re in control tonight.

Gorgeous. GORGEOUS. >:3

(Gonna Make You) Howl by @romirola

On the morning of David's birthday, Angel gives him a gift unlike anything he's ever received. David might be the alpha of the Shaw Pack, but just for the day, Angel becomes alpha of the bedroom.

WONDERFUL. Romi is a goddess with characterisation, and she knocks this out of the park. ;u;

Wanna Bet? by @taelonsamada

David is craving his mate, who’s a bit too preoccupied with Minecraft at the moment for his tastes. So he makes a bet with them. Realizing very quickly that he may have bitten off more than he can take.

>:3 okay so I was gonna rec 'Between You, Me and the Fence Post', which is a masterpiece, but I may be biased as she gifted this to me <33

#redacted asmr #redacted david #redacted audio #david/angel #I meant to do a fic rec thing for 2024 #but it has been hectic!! #SO this will do #redacted recs

[aphroditesmoon]

♡-;meadowlarks (I)

gwen stacy x fem!spidergirl!queen!reader (medievel au)

summary: when miguel accidentally sends gwen into a medievel timeline instead of her own after revoking her watch privileges, she sees it as a curse, but you, currently facing multiple challenges after the death of your father, the king, and the escape of a wild beast, finds that you'd appreciate the help.

warnings: hurt/comtort ,fluff, typical medieval sexism, trauma, kissing/makeout(INCOMING CHAPTERS), gore, grief, hesitant partners to friends to lovers, reader has fire powers, tiny bit internal homophobia, reader needs a nap, reader is touch starved, death, mutilation, witchcraft.

taglist; @kamaluhkhan @rissslays-parttwo @marytargaryen @darkstreaks @gwenisasilly @asher-kaden @macncheesemonster @miikshook @marianeski @reeags @goosetheluce @4cepink @yuennie

@primaviva

wordcount; 6.5k

a/n: testing out the waters w this one! 100 notes and I'll do a part 2 <33

▪︎ “AS THE WINTER TURNS THE MEADOW BROWN, YOU GO WHEREVER YOU GO TODAY” ▪︎

°°°°°

THERE ARE THREE thing anyone who’s lived in Old York Meadowlarks for at least a year would notice. The first, is that there had not been any Meadowlarks for nearly two centuries. The specific bird had been declared extinct. The second thing is that it never snows here. There are colder seasons sure, seasons where the winds could freeze you. But no one existing in the realm knew what snow even was. And finally, the third one is, there are no beasts in Meadowlarks.

The people survived through their fair share of thieves and criminals, and wild animals too. But monstrous beasts had remained a folklore. Bedtime stories to scare the children into doing their chores and stay off the woods past 8 O’clock.

And yet, here you are. Not a week after your father’s death, his only heir, now queen, and of course, the secret but very much known Lady Spider, standing inside a layered forest, currently covered in thick white flakes and ice-cold snow , meeting your fate against a minotaur.

Unlike the folktales, this minotaur doesn’t speak. He only growls and chases you to your death with incredible speed. “What the fuck?” was the only thing you’ve been asking yourself for the past 8 hours. You’ve caught mutants before, deformed humans, a consequence of their own black magic curse, but nothing completely inhuman as such.

What’s next? A unicorn?

The beast claws at the tree you’re currently hanging on, climbing up quickly despite his heavy weight, forcing you to latch on other trees faster. It wasn’t that you were incompetent, but merely confused. You wonder if you’ll just swing yourself at him if you tried to fight one on one. You weren’t taking the risk. Making sure he stayed chasing you, the path you were leading him on was into a bear trap. Something to keep him still for a while. Your fingers ache as they clench and unclench with your jumping from tree to tree.

Bold and dim as you expected the beast followed and fell into the hole with a roar, the net set immediately tying themselves around him. “Silly bull, should’ve stayed on all fours.” You muttered to yourself. It grumbles incoherently. Not a second of peace after, peasants from the further parts of the wood scrambles to view the dangerous state you were in. The bear trap being set off, including the terrible sounds the minotaur made, had called for attention. “Armageddon is coming!” An older woman shouted, shielding her son. The crowd makes a circle around you and the monster. Clutching their crosses in fear yet remaining like they're enjoying a circus show.

“Please, everyone. Unless you’d like it eat you first once it breaks free, run.” You yelled out, only gathering more people in. “Gods above, help me.” The minotaur growls again, tearing itself through the net. The people flinched and took steps backwards as the beast tosses and turned. “Move away or get burned.” You shouted, warning them for no less than a minute before blasting fire towards it. Smoke flew all around you as the children and their parents screamed while running off. That’ll do it, you thought as the air began to clear.

But gods no, the unconscious beast jolted, and your heart dropped. It’s fur and skin were already burnt off, but it’s still moving. You swung yourself on a tree above it, sword sliding off your hips into your hands. You hesitated at first, but once the creature’s eyes snapped open, You jumped. Your sword pushed through its right eyeball, earning a screech from it as blood flowed out from the now empty socket.

You pull your sword back out and flung your webs around him, tightening the trap.

The monster clawed at you then, from his restraints. The aggressiveness making you flinch and drop your sword to the ground. “Fuck.”  Its arm stretches out against your web, and shoved you hardly off the net. Your balance fails and you a screamed a rare scream as gravity wins. Flinging your arms around, you panic when you found no stable source to swing yourself on. As quick as a flash, your heart lept when instead of banging your head on hard and now apparently cold snow, You’re swung hard to your left, making you scream louder before your hands make quick to wrap themselves around the body that just saved you.

“I’d love to just be fighting minotaurs all day, we don’t have that much in New york.” It was a girl.

And that wasn’t the most bizarre fact. She was wearing an apparel like no other, and she was swinging with you attached to her like a monkey, the same way you could. “Oh my god this is a dream.” It had to be. You must be hallucinating. The priests had told you it could happen. Grieve often leads to hysterics, especially for women.

But what the church and council didn’t know, is that you do not grieve your father or the man that he was. The man he could’ve been, maybe. But that was a different story.

You feel the wind howl harsher, the cold feels like a bitter sting at your skin. "This is not a dream, unfortunately for us both.” The girl spoke before she loosen her grip for you to swing yourself again. “This doesn’t make sense. Who are you?” You countered. Too many questions to ask. “I’m spider-girl, like you.” She answers simply, retangling the creature. “You’ve got any idea how to fix this?" Rationalizing enough remaining stabilty, you nodded. “Yeah.” You let her try to maintain the grip while you snatch your sword back up and move towards it, aim sharp.

 “Back down.” You warned before slicing it through it’s neck, cutting off the minotaur’s head.

You land on your feet the same time the head falls. Your toes are freezing as it steps on the ground. The blood from the bull's decapitated head spreads all over the snow. It's body still inside the worn out net. That is a problem for the townsfolk to handle today.

The girl lands behind you, footsteps gentle when she moves. “A sword, pretty cool. Pretty heavy too huh?” You turn around to meet her. She wears a skin fitting white suit with a hood over her head, the type of clothing that would’ve had her burned as a witch a few hundred years ago. “If you’re not careful with your next words, you’ll feel just how heavy.”

She backtracks immediately, putting her hands up in defense. “Woah-hey, I just helped you kill that thing.” She reasons with you, hesitating to come closer. “That thing, came out of nowhere, and so do you. For the past 5 years, I’ve been the only Lady-spider here, how do I know that everything going on has nothing to do with you?”

 You were fiercer than usual, maybe. But you would take no chances with the amounts of passings and tragedies your kingdom has gone through this past week. “Lady-Spider? That sounds old, no offense.” You frowned. “Look around, you’re in Old York!” Her shoulder drops. “Oh, yeah. That makes sense.” You realized then that she’s probably not a threat to you. But it does not mean she’s not the cause of all this.

Sighing tiredly, you cracked your knuckles and rubbed them together to ease the sharp winter it’s feeling. “Why are you here?” You demanded again as you begin to walk back out the forests, eyes tracking the dead beast's footprints againts the snow, now beginning to fade. Following from behind, You hear her talk distantly. “I’m…from a different universe. I wish I could give a better explanation, but that’s it. There’s a whole spider society of other spidermen like us in other universes, and I kind of accidentally got thrown here.” You stop in your tracks, turning to her again.

“Other Spidermen?” She nods. “So, you’re me?’ Her eyes widen through her mask as she shakes her head. “Oh no, not at all. I mean sometimes there’s a version of you somewhere else that is also Spiderman, but I’m pretty sure you’re not me.” You take a moment staring at her, trying to process the most insane thing to happen today.

“Take off your mask?” She cocks her head. “Take off your mask, and tell me your name. Only then I’ll believe you.” She scoffs at your words. “I don’t owe you anything, and what would I need you trust for anyways?” It was your turn to be amused now, smiling under your mask. “There is nowhere in this place you could roam freely, without my permission. And no, I’m not exaggerating.” You notice her hesitancy and waited for an answer. “My name is Gwen. Gwen Stacy.”

She would not take her mask off yet, but so far, her name would do. Giving the sky a quick glance, the sun burns a bright reminder for lunch. You wondered how much chastise you’d get from Alistair. “You’re coming with me, Gwen.”

^^^

You had made sure you’d be left alone after your coronation for grieving’s cause. The ceremony was a gloomy one for both you and the council. Dislike was etched all over their faces as the crown was fitted on your head. A 17 year old girl was not their idea of a good ruler. But everyone who knew the game of politics would also know well that the worst kind of law breakers are the ones who made the laws in the first place. They'd rather a corrupt man for their own advantages than a queen of peace.

Slinging back into your room with Gwen, you decided that grieve had to wait, for the worst part of all this was yet to come. She takes a seat on the edge of your purple sheeted king bed, eyes roaming around the rest of the large bedroom. Soon, you noticed how she focuses on the large painting of your late mother. Your hand instinctively went the long necklace with a single pearl on your neck that she had worn for the painting. “Maybe, this is your canon event.” You hear Gwen suggest as you change into a black dress with silver lines drawn by the waist. Your hood and leather jacket is tossed into your closet after you stuck your mask under a drawer.

Giving yourself a glance at the mirror, running your fingers through your dishevelled hair and hoping everyone else would excuse the red rims under your eyes for a state of mourning.

“Your father died, and not a week after, things you claimed to be impossible here, happened.” You trusted her words easily, though the terrible anxiety you’re feeling in the pit of your stomach worsens with the thought of something even worse was to come.

“Maybe you’re right. But that would still mean that there’s a cause for all of this, a starting point.” You could feel her stare as you fix your hair. Her existence was both nerve-wrecking and comforting. To play two roles in one life, is the kind of tiring not every person could understand. “So, are you like, a princess?” She asks finally. “Was” You clarified. “Oh…wait-“

You cut her off impatiently. “I’ve been queen for less than a week, and the worst weather phenomenon just happened, a non-existent mythical appeared, and there’s two spider women. Do you realize just how bad that looks for me, in the eyes of the people, the council?” You challenged brazenly, hands holding your waist as you stared at her. Gwen turns silent again, though her eyes held the same old sympathy that you hated.

“If…” You began, eyes moving from her back to the floor again. She raises a brow. “If I dared to ask for your help..” Her gaze brightens in understanding as she fiddles her fingers. “I would help you. At least until I figure out how to leave here.” Your body relaxes at that, finally seeing the shape of your plan. “I need you to pretend to be me.”

“What?” her voice was incredulous. “If I am to fix this situation, then I’ll need to be both the queen, and Lady-spider, which is impossible. So, I’ll need you to be me.” Gwen stared at you in confusion, “And what exactly will you and Lady-spider be up to?”

“That, will be explained in the meeting.”

The meeting was set that afternoon. The letter was sent the morning you woke up. An emergency meeting with the councils of the state from all over Old York. The men were easy to read. They had attended the meeting with the expectation of the queen’s begging for help and guidance. But you’ve already seen more than you should at a young age to consider yourself a lamb given to the slaughter. You could hear them from behind the doors before you entered.

She’s 17, and unmarried. What will the kingdom be with a child as a queen?

Her ruling is already cursed, It’s a fucking blizzard out there. Have you seen anything so white and cold?

 A minotaur was killed by Lady-spider this morning. I would’ve thought it a lie if Jim himself didn’t see it with his own two eyes. A minotaur! What insanity-

The door pushes open with a loud creak as your guard, Alistair, announces your present loudly, stealing away the mayor and minister's attention from their gossiping. The room is silenced as they move to stand in honor of your entrance. Taking your seat at the end of the table, you meet their false smiles with your own. "Please, sit." 7 men are sat around the long table while a thick white candle is lits in the middle of it with the carvings of ’WITH GREAT POWER, COMES GREAT RESPONSIBILITY.’ written.

Till this day, you refuse to read upon the lines with any devotion or loyalty. You had carried the responsibility since you were born. What has it done for you in return?

Ignoring the changing glances shared right in front of you, you intertwine your fingers together, placing your fists on the table.

“I apologize for the late notice, and I thank you for being able to attend.” You said, with a pretense of gratefulness. They nod their heads in a respectful manner. “As you all can see, dark days are upon us.” Murmurs of agreements spread around the dark room. “If I was superstitious, I’d call it god’s wrath. But the falling out of this kingdom is happening too strategically, too clean. I’m aware I might not have seen this kingdom in it’s worst a thousand years ago, but I’ve been quite lucky to live long enough to know that only black magic could be the answer to this.” The table becomes a dash of confused expressions along with agreeable ones. You notice how some of them have taken to leaning on their wooden chairs with irritable expressions.

There's one thing men do not like than being told what to do by a woman, is being told what to do by a little girl.

“Magic is powerful, but it would take a terrifying level of sorcery for one to be able to summon impossible weather, and, mythical creatures.” Lord Jameson interjects with a raised brow. You could hear the tapping of the heel of his shoes on the stone hard floor amidst the eerily quiet room. It was like a small sign of defiance. "How are you so sure in something that's not even fully investigated yet?" You slowly spin your head at him, a glare embedded in your expression. “-Your majesty,” He adds too slowly.

 ”Yes, well, a powerful witch, given our kingdom’s track record, is much more believable than one of the gods purposely turning your bulls into beasts. And i'm sure if the gods were to punish us for our sins, they would have done it ages ago, it's not like we've been angels these past few years." You responded, reminding him of his slave trading scandal that happened two years ago. Snickers were heard from the other seats.

Glances were exchanged at your words and his, a gist of hesitance and cowardice amongst other things. “Word from my men is that this drastic weather change first started in the east, where most of our plantations are done in. Half of this year’s profit from it is gone, ruined. The people there will eat nothing but last month’s stock, and hunt their own animals, if they’re even lucky to find any in this weather. But afterwards it all went down like dominoes, snow, everywhere. And yet, the minotaur was found here, in town, 2 casualties, only because Lady-spider was quick enough.”

Lord Haycinter acts as the first to actually ask the question you yourself have been. “And what’s the correlation of those two?” The secret glances and talking stops, and all eyes are on you.

“Significantly? Nothing. But if you pay attention, both the town here and in the city have one similarity, their massive population.”You give the old men a few seconds to understand what you mean, the light switch in their brains finally clicking.

“Whoever is causing this, is trying to cause a purge.”

••••

Hours passed after the meeting, you’ve found yourself soaking in the tub for at least an hour now. Your fingers were wrinkly and the water had turned lukewarm. The rose colored walls of the bathing room were bringing back old memories, memories you can’t afford to remember.

So, you closed your eyes and think of the white snow again, and the blood the minotaur had splattered when his head fell off.

Tomorrow a scout of your men, alongside you and Lady-spider will be heading east. Food stock would be divided before an investigation started running. Lord Haycinter and a few others had triedbto persuade you to stay in the castle, let them and the given guard handle the investigation. But you needed the people to see their queen strong and contributing. You needed them to know thate whether they liked you as their ruler or not, you would not abandon them. The good and the bad, they are all under your responsibility.

The last time a deformed beast was made, it was by a witch who managed to create an group of brain eaters, solely to end her rival family’s bloodline. Aethella, old, wicked and spiteful. A long time witch of Meadowlark. Those were the stories spread of her. But you had met her, right before she was executed in your father’s order. She looked 60 in age, white hair clashing with faded black, a single gold tooth that made her look demonic when you see the whole mix of the look.

What would you do if all 8 daughters of yours were murdered with their hearts ripped out and hair shaved off for another man’s magic spells and joke. For another man’s ego and amusement, she has asked you at the ripe age of 15. So she killed his sons back in return. A punishment he deserved, but your father never gave. And she brought them back as the living dead and made them feast off of their father’s living body until he too, ceased to exist.

“But she’s dead now.”

How many witches are there in this town anyways? None as powerful to turn animals into mythical beings.

 Your eyes are closed. The tiredness forcing it shut. What you would you would give to not have to carry the realm’s fate on your shoulders for a week. You flinch at a touch against your shoulder, slipping from unconsciousness to consciousness again. “Gwen.” You could tell. “You’ve been in here for 2 hours, I got worried.” Has it been 2 hours? It only felt like 1. Gwen kneels by the tub, palms remaining on your shoulder. You say nothing in response, too tired to speak. She wears one of your long dresses that you had given earlier. It was becoming of her, despite the clashing of the style with her odd hair.

Seeing how your knees buckle as you try to stand she slips an arm under yours and helped pull you out. Her eyes are trained on your neck until she could grab a hold of your robe and passed it to you. Tying it up in a ribbon, you give her a light push when she tries to help you into your bedroom, refusing it.  You revel in the comfort of your dimly lighted room and it’s warmth, the candle by your bedside as the only source of light for you to get dressed. Feeling Gwen near, you say nothing until she’s walked over to your side.

“We need to go over the plan.” You stated in a matter of factly tone. “Alright.” She agrees. “Tomorrow, before 9 possibly, we’ll ride to the east side of Old York, Fullmar. My people there are made of farmers, hunters, you get the gist."

"They’re the most independent of us. They live near the crops and mountains, so every year, their supply of food are always checked off first. But with the unexpected snow, a lot of the folks are not sure how to maintain healthy crops and plants, they’ve never gone through the extremes like this. So first things first, we’ll divide 10% of Meadowlark’s fruits and vegetables spring stock for them, and then afterwards, I’ll have half of my unit guards search the seaforest for any signs of wild animals or witchcraft.” Gwen listens carefully, her gaze never leaving yours as you continue to explain.

“I thought you said the beast thing only happened once this morning?” She asks in confusion. You shook yourself and gave her a sarcastic smile. “I thought so too."

Rubbing your hands on the back of your neck, you fought the urge to pass out. “An official letter was sent to me from the minister of Fullmar from three hours ago, who unfortunately could not attend today’s meeting, that apparently two girls who had gone missing 3 days ago have been found dead in the woods, their flesh chewed and bitten off.” Gwen grimaced, “fucking hell.” You pursed your lips tiredly. “You’ve got that right.”

You muster up the courage to sit on your own bed next to her, the soft cotton sheets calling you to sleep. Eyeing up Gwen as subtly as possible, you feel guilt crawling it’s way into your moral consciousness when you realized how tired she looked too. Her eyes were slightly red, as if she had been crying. You wondered if she noticed that you have too. “I’m going to figure out how to send you home.” You said aloud, making her laugh slightly. “That’ll be great,”

There was an unspoken bond made when the two of you met eachother. Something along the lines of, 'never actually mention your fathers, even though his name lies on the tip of your tongues.' She missed him, you could tell, despite her only mentioning him once that day.

You have not missed yours. In fact, you suffer in every second that you can't forget him.

“You mentioned something about a watch this morning, my Queensguard, Alistair is quite the technician. Perhaps he could help?” The blonde smiled sadly. And at that moment, all you wanted to do was wipe it off in any way you could.

“Thank you, but I don’t think your timeline’s technology are the same as Miguel’s or mine.” You hummed in understanding, deciding that you’d ask Alistair of it anyways. A sudden realization makes you jump as you quickly move to grab a pillow from your bed. “We should sleep. I forgot to tell you, you’ll be sleeping here for a while. I can’t risk the servant’s gossip of Spider-girl sleeping here, you can have the bed.”

Gwen makes a noise of disagreement, making you halt. “You do realize your bed is a bigger than an elephant, right? We could share, princess.” You feel your face physically heats up and frowned at her. “That is indecent, if we were to be seen even sitting on the same bed, the punishment is worse than tangling with a man.” Gwen’s eyes widen and her mouth hug open. “But that’s bullshit! What kind of man feeding patriarchy system is this?”

You shrug at the obviousness. “The kind that is a man feeding patrhiarchy.”  She tilts her head and accepts the answer after considering it for a few seconds. 

“Yes well, either way I’m not letting you sleep on the carpet. So we share, or I’ll sleep on the ground.” Her persistence was annoying. You can’t understand how she fails to see the problem in this. Women have been killed for far lesser sins. This was as if you’re asking to get tied to a stake. But her eyebags are deep and her back is hunched. So you put your pillows back down, and slipped under the covers next to her before turning the opposite side.

”You love your people.” She whispers out in the dark once you’ve blown off the candle. You could feel the slow rhythm of her breathing next to you.

“Someone has to. God knows my father and his father didn’t.” The both of you let the silence lingers between the space you make, concluding the conversations. “Goodnight.” She wishes, her voice caressed you like the soft winds that pushed through your lilac collored window curtains. “Goodnight."

You could feel sweat rolling down your forehead in an excruciatingly slow motion. The ice was beginning to melt as you ride to the east side with Gwen. The sun now had taken over in the case of extreme weathers. You fixed the shawl covering your head and face and presses your horse to move faster. It’s been at least an hour and a half since you started your journey. You made sure all royal sigils were hidden for now, not wanting to catch any unwanted attentions until the stock arrives.

Despite Alistair’s insistence on you riding in the royal carriage, you stuck through your horse, Merry anyways.

You decided to ride for an hour earlier than the food stock carriages to get some privacy with the investigation. And although you do not regret your choice, a 5 minute break in a carriage doesn’t sound that horrible now. The road was wet with melting ice and it stank of cow shit, but the fogginess from the cold had disappeared and the road seemed clearer. Gwen, who apparently has not rode on a horse for years, ended up behind you on Merry so you could save more time.

You could hear the amusing jokes the rest of the guards made about Lady Spider not knowing how to ride a horse and internally curses her for embarrassing your name.

Your loyal guard rides closer to you until he is side by side, and you could see him giving sideway glances to the girl behind you, judging her. He eyes her up and down. You raise a brow when he turns to you instead. “You know, I’ve been wondering since this morning when you announced that the infamous lone ranger Lady spider would join us, how did you two meet?” He asks, cocking his head at Gwen who’s currently holding onto your waist like her life depends on it as the horse gallops harder. “That’s none of your business, is it Ali?” He hums quietly, looking back on the path in front of me. “Forgive me for questioning you, your majesty. I just worry you trust easily.” You hear Gwen scoff as she sits up straighter. You would punch him in the face for saying those words, if you could. Being treated as a child by someone you trust was worse than being treated that way by a council of slagging, sexist old men.

“I know what I’m doing.” You silence him before giving your horse a light kick to move faster before it’s lunch time. 

Alistair was 5 years older than you. He was assigned to you as a personal guard since you were 12. He was more like a brother than a bodyguard. And seeing how most days, he would be the only one willing to risk the king’s rage to save your arse whenever you’d sneak out or disappear entirely to do your job as Lady spider, his worry and protectiveness was warranted. And yet, as much as cared for you, he was still older, stronger, and still a man. He could not understand you if he wanted to. He was not made as you were.  

Gwen eyes Alistair until he’s out of sight again, behind you. A glare embedded on her face. “Is he always like that?” You hummed positively. “He could use a smile and a less condescending tone.” She says sarcastically, making you smile.

“Don’t be offended, He’s like that with everyone I’m around. He’s just protective.” Gwen makes an ‘ooo’ sound and pushes you with more questions. “What, are you guys like, what’s the word?- Courting! Yes, see I know some slangs too. So are you guys courting?’ You were grateful that she’s behind you so she can’t see how wide your eyes are, hearing her question. “Heavens no.” You breathed out. “He’s like a brother to me, hell, I’ve once made him play tea party with me when I was 12.” Gwen laughs in surprise, eyes brightening. “Him? A tea party? What I would give to see that.” You hummed as an answer, trying to forget the insinuation she just made.

You were never comfortable with questions of courting or marriages. And it’s already terrible enough how much proposal letters you receive from many of the ministers and their sons, even the north King with already two wives had sent you a proposal. When it comes to marriage for politics, there was simply no one good enough or beneficial to help your kingdom so far. And in case of marriage for love, you just haven’t met any man you’re genuinely interested in.

The flat surface of the road was beginning to get bumpy, as are the short cut grass that’s mixing with overgrown weeds. If that wasn’t a sign that you have entered the borders of Fullmar, the broken and faded signboard that lays on the ground with the words ‘FUL M R’ is.

Your bend your neck and letting it stretch while you continue to ride on poor tired merry. “We’re here.” You tell Gwen who’s trying very hard not to fall asleep or fall of the horse. “Finally.” She mumbled back with a yawn. “Now, remember what I told you, no talking unless it’s completely necessary, no showing off your spider tricks, and no w-“ “No wandering off, yeah I got that.” She cuts you off in annoyance. “So do you guys talk like that all the time?” You frowned slowed down your horse. “Like what?”

“Like you’re in a Pride and Prejudice book?” You tilt your head up and try to remember a book with that title. “I don’t think I know what you’re talking about.” Gwen lets out a short laugh. “ Of course you son't."

You waited until the rest of the guards that came with you caught up. “what’s your call?” Alistair asked. “We’ll ride further east until we reach the seaforest, I’ll need at least two guard checking the waterfall area and the caves. Any prints of blood, any signs of hair or human body parts, you take it with you or you call me. Alistair, you search up the old church and the houses near there. Ask questions if necessary. Lady Spider, and the rest of you will be searching the rest of the forest with me.” A murmur of agreement and ‘yes, your majesties’ were said quickly before all 8 of you part ways as you’re told. You pull your horse into a left as you ride into the seaforest’s direction with 3 men behind you.

5 minutes more into riding, you finally reach the said forest. The seaforest was the most known forest of Old York, The trees there are a mix of greens and blue tints. It is known for growing rare fruits and plants mysteriously. Back during the age of witch burnings, is was rumoured that if you were to take anything without the forest’s permission, they would die before they could set foot outside the woods.

But you were sure that it was just an excuse to burn women who used the herbs they got for healing purposes from there without actual valid reasons. Still, you notice how your men quiver and flinch at any small noises of the birds and tree branches.

“Do not get cold feet now.” You attempt to motivate them weakly. “Oh wow, that’ll help them.” Gwen whispers as you help her off Merry after you. “Shut up.” The 5 of you spread ways, two of the guards headed to your right while the other one goes forward.

 You were quick to your left, checking the condition of the bushes and trees to see if the extreme weather had affected them. They hadn’t. “Well this is odd.” You said to yourself.

“What? What did you find?” Gwen asks, basically sprinting from your right. “Nothing. Everything is fine.” She makes a face of confusion. “Okay…?” You ignore her and move to call your men. The three guards came quick to the center. “So far, everything looks fine where you were, yeah?” you questioned them, receiving fast nods.

“And what about snow? Has any of you seen even a bit of melted snow or ice, even a hint of it? Water?” You can feel the tension filling the space between all five of you when you said that. “None…” One of them spoke, the others not disagreeing. “Alright then.” You sighed in frustration. “If all of you are sure there’s nothing, we head over to the waterfall. It's all too good to be true.” The dark skinned guard who spoke up earlier raises his hand to speak. “You don’t have to- just, you know what, just speak.”

“Oh, right, um. Well, we can’t really call it a clue that, everything, is normal, right?” He asks. You shrugged at that and pursed your lips. “Perhaps not, but the fact that the forest is too normal, while the whole realm was in a shitshow of a snowstorm yesterday, is in itself very odd, yes?” The men make a face, considering what you just said. “Uh, I guess?”

“Good. Now let’s see if the others are going through something just as weird.” You spare them no more explanation, walking off to Merry with Gwen to help her on the horse.

The ride was short as the waterfall area wasn’t that far and is still inside the seaforest. You keep a straight face despite your awe in the colorful grown trees. The leaves are almost turquoise and from a far, the whole forest, illuminated by the brightly shining sun, looked almost as blue as the waterfall.

The heat was starting to get to you, you wiped you’re your shawl across the beads of sweat on your hairline, feeling how warm your face is. “I don’t see any of them.” You stated out loud. “Wait let me-“ One of the guards gets off his horse and sprints closer to the caves near the waterfalls. “Tristen?” You heard him call out. But Tristen, hadn’t went alone, he had another one with him too.

“Who was the other one with Tristen?” You ask one of your own. “Fred.” You frowned and looked back. Fred was a shitty name, did not fit him at all.

You watch the guard, Emery, disappear into the cave in search of his friend. A few second later, he exits it alone. “I can’t find him, your honor!” He shouted. “It’s your majesty, dingus.” The guard next to you yell. “Oh.” You ignore their banter, heart sinking at Emery’s earlier words.

“What about Frank?” “Fred.” The guard corrects you in a whisper, “Fred! Yes, not even a sign of Fred?” You can see Emery tilting his head with his mouth hung open in confusion. “Who’s Fred?” Gwen chokes out a laugh, quickly hiding it with a loud cough. You groaned loudly, rubbing your face with your palms. Sweaty and annoyed, you called for Emery to come back before he too, disappears.

Gwen squeezes your shoulder once she realizes how worried you actually were. "Hey, I'm sure they're just with Alistair." You huffed. "I told them to be here, not with Alistair." She says nothing, eyeing you worriedly. "I hope for their sake, they are with him." You sighed out before you rode to the church.

•••••

They were not with Alistair. The concern he looked at you with when you yold him that you couldn't find them, haunts you still.

You made sure the stocks were divided quickly, asking your guard of the news spread around here of the forsests and homicide tragedy that recently occured.

"The twins, Alia and Ana, both had their organs taken off, and their hair shaved. It's textbook dark magic." He exclaimed. And you agreed with his words. Witchcraft wasn't hard to spot. it's the witch, that is. "Their skin looked like it was bitten and chewed off by dogs, beasts. And that's not the worst part." He speaks in a grave tone.

"Their corpes was hung for all to see." You felt a closh shiver running down your spine. Their blood is in your hand. As a rulerr, you've failed. And now your own guards goes missing. "The air here is haunted, Alistair." You had told him after the stock dividing was done.

"There is a stench so foul, only some could smell. And an ugliness only some can see behind the faux magical looks of the forest." And yet, many times have you been in Fullmar with your father, but this time, something sinizter hasve found it's home in the city. He knew what you meant, he felt it too. "We'll camp by the church tonight, alright? We'll wait for Tristen and Fred." He pulls you into an embrace, and you ket yourself relax slightly. Whatever was to happened, you're not leaving anyone behind.

The 6 of you make camp a bit further from the church in the woods, but not in the seaforest. You made sure the spot you chose was still near to the church and streets, in case of medical emergencies.

The moon was currently making it's appearance, in replacement to the sun. The men are talking amongst eachother as they finish their portion of porridge, a fire made in the middle of your circle.

Gwen watches as you stand still by a tree, gazing out at the empty darkness, searching. She places her finished bowl by her pack before slowly pushing herself up from her crossed legged position to walk towards you. She was worried for you. The way you held yourself and your position was respectable, but how yoy deny yourself personal satisfaction and joy is harmful.

You could drive yourself to madness. You cared for your people, too much, to the point where you thought that you'd do a much better job as a queen if you cared for yourself less.

You flinched when you feel her arm on your shoulder. Somehow missing the sound of her loud footsteps meeting the noisy sound of leaves crunching together. "Princess." Your cheeks warmed at the title despite the situation. "Are you trying to cause a scene, starving yourself like this?" She scolds softly, pulling you by your arm to turn around and face her. "I can't eat when I'm too worried." You defend yourself. She raises a brow before dragging you to the circle again.

You don't fight against her, knowing that she's right. You were punishing your body for the mistakes you didn't mean to make.

But it had been 9 hours since your two guards vanished. You wonder if you had sent them to their deaths.

Emery and Yusof is singing together, a soft melody on their tongue to fill the uncomfortable silence and elephant in the room. "I thought I was going to die." Emery serenades slowly, dragging the last word. "But you taught me how to fall, before you taught me anything at all." Both he and Yusof sang.

Gwen is nodding her head to their singinv as she scoops a spoon of your porridge. "Open up." She wiggles her brows as the soon moves in a wavy motion to your mouth. "No! You're not spoonfe-" The words die at the tip of your tongue when she shoves the spoon in your talking mouth, making you swallow it by force. She grins proudly at her victory, making it hard for you to be angry at her.

You glare at her as she continues to feed you a few more times, enjoying the act of embarassing you. The group of 4 men are gently clapping their hands now, making a beat of their song. "I'll take first watch." Alistair announced. "Emery can take after me." The younger whined at that, earning a slap on his shaved head.

He meets your eyes momentarily before looking away at the same emptiness you had just gazed upon before. They're not coming.

Your eyes shut closebin frustration and painful acceptance. Gwens fingers finds yours, intertwining your cold hands and her warm ones together as she leans closer to you. "It's not your fault." She whispers in your ear. You open your eyes to stare back at her, your back against a tree. "They went there on my order." You replied, evidently.

"You didn't know what would happened, no one did." Her gand tightens on yours. "Gwen." You called out tiredly, fighting the urge to cry. "Yes?" She leans her head on your shoulder, her breathing hot in the crook of your neck. "Don't let go, please." She squeezes your fingers. "I won't."

You notice just how blue her eyes are when she's sitting this close to you. And so you fell asleep with her eye color as the last thing you thought off.

You weren't sure how long you had slept for. But when you awoke, it was still dark. You were shaken by the cold wind, jolting you up. Gwen was stuck to your arm, your fingers still intertwined.

She snores slightly, mouth slightly open whem she's dozing off into a dream. You let yourself smile at the girl clinging onto you. Out of all the things you've done wrong, trusting her hasn't been one yet, so far.

Your daydream was shooked away when a sudden sound or rusting leaves makes you flinch. You turn to your front, seeing none other than Alistair. He has his back towarfdyou as he's staring far up front. "Ali?" You called.

He stands still, voice low when he finally speaks. "Do you hear that?" You frowned. "Hear what? And how long have you been up?" He turns his face to look at you. His expression was full of the deepest fears. His hands were trembling. "I've been hearing that for an hour now, but I can't find the source." You say nothing, trying to listen to what he mentioned of.

"Come here." He beckons you in a whisper. You shook your head. "You're scaring me Alistair." He sighs. "I'm sorry, I- look, I'm serious, I heard something, but you can only hear better here." Your fingers squeezes Gwen's arm, making her mumble in her sleep. "Come on." He repeats, stretching out a hand to you. You move from your position to slowly crouch betore standing up, taking his hand.

He walks slowly to where he stood, shielding you as he walks front first, a protective hand still holding yours. "Now, listen." He whispers. And so you follow.

You try to clear your mind as best as possible, searching for the sound he told you off. And right when you were about to tell him off, you heard it. A howl. You gasped and meets his eyes. "Wolves?" You asked. He shook his head. "That's not an animalz that's human. And it's too visible to be far in the seaforest."

You understood then what he meant. "We need to see." He takes a deep breath. "I know but-" you huffed aloud. "No but, I'm going." You push off his grip on you as you stride towards the deeper parts of the woods, with only your missing guards' condition in my mind.

"Damnit, wait!" You hear Alistair curses before foorsteps were hearf getting more far from you, he was waking the others.

"Tristen? Fred?" You whisper yelled. A howl of pain, alike to a scream was heard, louder. Oh my god. You called for them again. Your hands hold onto the tree barks like walls in the dark, the trees being too tall, limiting the moon's light. You curse yourself when you accidentally tripped on a stick, hands finding a tree bark immediately. "Gods sake- Tristen!" You yelled out once more.

"Princess." You jumped at Gwen's voice. Her eyes were droopy and hair messed up, and yet as she watches you longer, her eyes beginnto widen. "Princess. " she repeats, slower. "Gwen." You breathed out in relief. "You scared me." She says nothing, eyes moving up before it remains staring above your head. Her lips quiver as she stutters out incomprehensible strings of words. "I-I heard them." You explained plainly before following the arrow her eyes pointed at.

Your body detaches itself from the tree, and a hysterical scream escapes the deepest parts of your chest and throat.

On the stealthy branches of the tree you held onto just now, were two naked men, with the middle parts of tbeir body torn open, and hung on it. Their blood smears the leafs and bark, and it drips still, falling down onto the grass. Their faces stayed intact, and you recognizes the looks of Tristen and Fred easily.

#gwen stacy fanfiction #gwen stacy x reader #spider gwen #ghost spider x reader #atsv #spiderman across the spiderverse #across the spiderverse #gwen stacy

[no-see-um-incorrect]

Bad Blood (literally)

Sam/Masc Darlin

Fluffy sick Fic

No proofread

Darlin’s POV

“come on Sam. pick up” i dialed the number again only to be met with the same voicemail I’ve heard 1 million times today 

“you’ve reached Sam Collins if it’s important enough, you’ll leave a message”

Sam hadn’t answeredmy calls at all today, not even any texts. Which was abnormal usually I’m the one to mentally respond, but not actually message back.

Was he napping? no. Sam usually texts before he lays down for a nap 

Maybe he was listening to music and it was too loud for him to hear his phone….No. Sam has sensitive ears, And likes to be hyper aware of his surroundings. usually the music is just loud enough to hear.

Maybe I’m just being obsessive and spiraling over nothing, maybe I’m just being a paranoid little shit like Chrissy is always saying…

or maybe my paranoia is warranted.

I make my way to David’s office

*KNOCK-KNOCK* “come in” I quickly open David’s door closing it a little too loud behind me 

“oh, I thought you were Asher” “so sorry to disappoint. Can I go home early?” He cocked his head like a confused dog (yea. I know) “…..can I ask why” “I think something might be wrong with Sam. he hasn’t answered any of my texts or calls….and I’m getting worried” “alright you can leave. I’ll get Milo to cover for you on the Walton job” “holy fuck, thanks David” I turned to leave.

“hey…Next time something like this happens just leave….you can fill me in later” I whisper a quick thank you. Before bolting out the door. 

Nobody’s POV—————————————————

Darlin jolted through traffic in ways that should’ve earned them many tickets. But that didn’t matter all that was going through their head was. possible scenarios of what they were gonna walk into. most of them less than pleasant. 

Have they checked in with Quinn’s containment facility? Could Alexis’s invoke have worn off? Can invokes wear off? why does their driveway feel so much longer than it usually does. 

Darlin pulled up next to Sam’s truckand threw open the door, not even bothering to turn their car off. Fumbling with their keys all the way up to the front door. Darlin unlocked it and ran inside.

“SAM! IM HOME!” They waited for a few seconds then they heard a groan. Coming from down the hall. they start walking down the hall, making sure to listen closely. the groan is coming from the end of the hall. It’s coming from.…..the bathroom??

Darlin presses their ear up against the door. inside they can hear labored breathing 

“Sam?” They softly spoke. Admittedly, a little scared. a few seconds past before they heard a weak “Darlin?” it was quiet, it was weak but it was there. and it was Sam. and he sounded in pain? They think that’s what that is. “Sammy…i’m gonna open the door is that OK?” They can hear Sam grunt in agreement. they slowly opened the door. and they see Sam. On the floor. hunched over the toilet. They thought he was pale before.  but you might as well call him a friendly ghost because he’s white as Casper.

“oh, baby…what happened?” “B-bad blood bag..*Gulp*” “like expired? or just bad blood?” “bad blo-*Cough!* I tried to-get to my phone but I-” Sam quickly leans closer to the toilet. Darlin places a soft hand on his back. using the other to hold his hair back. “oh shit. Ok. I got ya i got ya..” once Sam was finished hacking up a lung. He leans back against the bathroom wall. 

“feel any better?” “still nauseous, but not nearly as bad as before” “how long have you been in here?” “…since around three hours after you left-And i know what your gonna say-” “SAM I left at 5 AM! And I don’t know if you’ve checked the clocks but it’s 3 PM” Sam was quiet his cheeks were flushed from being sick and his eyes started to fill up “…Sam..have you been throwing up all the time?” “…I couldn’t s s-” Darlin places a hand on his cheek. Caressing his face with their thumb. “oh Sammy” they wrap their arms around him and hold him close. Sam takes a deep breath and leans into the embrace. 

After a minute, Darlin hooks their arm under Sam’s legs. The other supporting his back.  standing up and lifting him off the ground. Almost out of reflex, Sam wraps his arms around their neck. “Darlin! Put me down!” “nope, not happening. Sorry a Babe, but it’s my turn to play the big strong man in the relationship” Darlin walks them to the bedroom and lays him down.

“No. I can’t lay in the bed I’m gross” “and you laid in the bed and cuddled me when I had the flu. I don’t see your point. Can I take your shirt and pants off?” “yeah. Wait hold on. why?” “you’ve been in these clothes all day they’re probably sweaty and icky” Darlin removes his flannel and jeans, taking off his shoes and socks.

Sam’s skin was warm. But not the cozy warm that Darlin look forward to when they came home every day. This was like fever warm…but vampire edition, 

“I’ll be right back. stay here” “well I don’t think I have the strength to go anywhere else”

Around 15 minutes later, Darlin comes in the room with a Home Depot 5 gallon bucket. They sit on the floor on Sams side of the bed.

“I’ve got Vernors courtesy of Ashers sister, saltines and vapor rub, three ice cold water bottles, and the main event..” they drop the 5 gallon bucket next to the nightstand in front of him “puke bucket. I Also threw away the blood bags that were left in the fridge and told Vincent to pick up some fresh ones at the bank by his house” Darlin sits down next to him and opens one of the water bottles “Drink” Sam grabs a water bottle and chugs it. not realizing how thirsty he was until now. Once he finishes, he tosses the water bottle into the bucket. 

“thank you darlin” “there’s that voice” they lean forward and give him a kiss on the forehead  “aw. Is my big bad wolf being soft?” “Only for you cowboy”

The next few hours were spent making sure Sam could function again. Darlin’ had reheated some of the chicken soup that Marie had given them. And made him eat a few bowls of it. not that he was complaining. he had drank almost every of the water bottle they had in the house. made quick work of the crackers and Vernors. and was now simply resting. laying on his side while his Darlin rubbed his shoulders. Feeling his now normal Sam temperature skin 

“this is gonna sound bad, but I’m kind of happy that you were sick” “you’re right. That does sound bad” “what I mean is….when you weren’t returning my calls or texts I…I got really anxious and started thinking..” “started thinkin’ the worst?” “yeah..and of course, now I know that it wasn’t your fault that you weren’t answering I just got really worried” “well your worry was warranted you saw me. I was a mess…A mess that was then rescued by his favorite night in shining torn jacket” “Ha! Look, who’s being sappy now!” “must be the medication got me all up in the clouds like them migraine meds David takes”

Sam stretches out his shoulders and lets out a yawn.

“you should probably get ready for sleep. You must be exhausted” “you’re probably right” Sam turns over clicks the lamp off. And closes his eyes to sleep. 

“what are you doing?” “getting ready to sleep” “all the way over there?” “I didn’t think. You would want to cuddle with me” “well you’re right about one thing” Darlin pulls Sam closer by his hips forcibly little spooning him “you didn’t think” they nuzzled their face into his neck and wrapped their arms around his torso 

“…..I love you Darlin. your the best thing I’ve got” “your worth trying to be the best for”

————————————————————————-

This might be shit. OH WELL

@frog-0n-a-l0g Luv u Boo. this for you

#redacted audio #redacted asmr #redacted sam #redacted darlin’ #fluff and only fluff #hurt comfort #???

[geordikisser]

shaw + sam gaming headcannons ( + their listeners )

☆ a/n: suggestive language , yt references + silent hill 2 & tlou 2 rm spoilers ! ☆

nothing crazy going on here js silliness tbh,,, tryna cook some things up,,,,

— you’d think milo & asher would be shit talkers but their mates are bigger. they go big they refuse to go home.

— asher introduced david to torture star video content and they are currently trying to beat nun massacre together

— milo definitely was a newgrounds kid growing up

— sam, being very dumb with new gen games, enjoys minecraft! he and darlin’ have a mansion in their survival world and he cherishes it dearly. he enjoys the creative aspect of the game

— david cried while playing silent hill, specifically silent hill 2. the leaving ending, where mary is talking as the credit rolls. david literally had tears in his eyes.

— milo and sweetheart play overcooked together and that’s when you hear the most shit talking they have ever shit to each-other.

— while angel plays minecraft, david massages their scalp while humming softly to the game bg music

— one time while playing twd: s4, milo told asher to pick louis and when he picked violet, he used the excuse ‘it’s for the plot.’

— asher definitely fucks over the gang over in every multiplayer game they play

— the listeners all play plenty of fps and babe gets the most competitive while angel is in the corner using their sound board playing the “bwomp” sound effect whenever babe bitches.

“angel. play that shit again and i’m gonna actually kill you.” “what?.”

bwomp.

“THATWASN’TEVENMETHISTIME.”

— sweetheart and babe definitely flirt a little when they get competitive with each-other to piss each-other off and or to throw one of them off. this confuses milo and asher severely

— darlin’ & sam r so doom + isabelle coded ( ill let you decide who’s who. ) ( darlin’ is isabelle. )

— angel and darlin’ play fortnite horror games

— darlin’ cried when joel died in tlou due to joel reminding them of sam

— the listeners play 8ball or crazy 8 with each-other in their gc together

— when david and asher were in highschool, they would fuck around in mw3 zombies together and vent to each-other at 3am, those deep ass talks

— milo’s the friend who sings when it gets quiet.

xtra.

“i got you a present!” babe coos to sweetheart, throwing a blooper their way in mario kart. sweetheart literally jumps out of their seat as their face turns as red as possible out of rage. with babe landing first, they giggle. “got something for me to since we are in the gift giving season , no?” to sweetheart. this causing the ball of soon fistfuls of anger to turn around. “yeah, it’s attached to me.” david spits out his drink as milo snaps his neck to the two as he sees sweetheart cracking their knuckles. “oh they meant it like that ok.” he hums to himself as he turns back to his phone. “OH NO THEY MEANT IT LIKE THAT.” milo realizes internally jumping up.

#redacted asmr #redacted asher #redacted david #redacted milo #redacted angel #redacted babe #redacted sam #redacted sweetheart #redacted darlin

[canthavetoomuchchaos]

little noises

Asher Talbot x Baabe

in which Baabe comes home from work only to find Asher nowhere to be seen.

Asher is seen having something similar to a overstimulated meltdown. These are how mine tend to be, so I'm projecting lol

Tw: hitting oneself, muscle tensing, dissociation, twitching, stimming, scratching at scars, let me know if I missed any!!

As the door opens, it creaks. A loud, annoying, horrible creak. Baabe opens and closes the door quickly, taking a breath as they relish finally being home. They toe off their work shoes, reminding themself to check for marks on the shiny shoes.

As they put their bag and coat on the rack and floor, they realize Asher, their adorable golden retriever of a boyfriend, hasn't come running to hug them yet. Confused they stay still and listen for anything that would indicate danger.

Hearing no signs of danger, they grow concerned. Not only did they hear no danger, they heard no Asher either. They pull out their phone, opening their texts with him to see if he had said anything about not being home and they forgot. Nope. How odd...

"Ash? You home sweet boy?" They use a louder than normal tone, hoping maybe using his favorite nickname would help him come out. Hearing no signs of movement they frown and walk towards the bedroom, their heart racing. Is he hurt? Is something else keeping him quiet? Why isn't he responding?

They come up to their bedroom door, their hand on the handle, still hearing nothing from Asher. Their heart is pounding. They open the door and look around the room, they see the bathroom light on under the doorframe. Walking over, they knock on the door gently. Maybe he just hasn't heard them?

"Asher? My love are you in there?" They ask, though as they do they realize there is quiet, shuddering breaths.

"Ash, can I come in bubba?" They ask gently, their hand already turning the knob. They hear him scoot away from the door, assumably so they can open it.

Once the door is open they see Asher, curled in a ball, his shoulder up to his ears, eyes wide open and glassy as he seems to have no control of his muscles. His neck is twitching to the side and his hands tensed. They scoot closer, he doesn't react. One of his hands bends backwards at an odd angle, shaking as he doesn't even seem to notice his own wrist bonking his forehead.

They reach forward and hover their hands, they don't want to startle him by touching, but they don't want him to hurt himself either.

"Asher? Hey, love, can you hear me? Is it alright if I touch you?" Ashers eyes, though still glassy and far away, turn in their direction, not directly at them, but confirmation that he understands they are there. He blinks and gives the tiniest nod.

They gently reach out to grab his wrist, massaging his pulse point to help relax the muscle. Their other hand is on his bicep, tapping.

One tap...two taps...three taps...four taps....one tap.

Asher's face scrunches as his neck tenses, his eyes scrunch shut, nose crinkling up, and mouth in an uncomfortable looking frown. Baabe just watches. This has happened before but never this long. They don't know how long he was here before either. They're thinking about calling David.

Asher lets out a small, almost whimpering, noise from the back of his throat as his face remains scrunched up, seemingly in pain. At this point their hand is still tapping his bicep and their hands are shaking as well. They don't think before grabbing their phone and calling David, keeping their voice low. After two rings the phone picks up.

"Hello?"

"hey, David. Are you alone? Or at least not on speakerphone?"

"give me two seconds and I'll be alone. What's going on? Is everything okay?"

They hear shuffling and a quiet 'ill be back Angel' from David.

"yeah, um, I think so? Asher is having an episode right now, but he was like this when I got home? His face has been scrunched up and he's not responding to any questions. I stopped him from hitting himself but he's still super tensed up and I'm really worried..."

As they speak their voice gets more and more distorted by their upset. They're trying not to cry but they're scared for their boyfriend.

They hear a deep breath and the phone be set down, assumably on speaker now.

"Okay, is he shaking?"

"no.."

"you said he was like this when you got home right? Maybe something happened while you were at work. Are his shoulders blocking his ears?"

They frown and look at Asher. His ears are indeed blocked by his shoulders.

"yeah, what do I do?" They take a deep breath, steeling themself so they can help the best they can.

"alright, all you should need to do is gently tug on his shirt sleeve. If that doesn't work, try to push his shoulder away from his ears. He can't hear you, and through that, you can't help vocally ground him."

They do as told, gently tugging his shirtsleeves, his shoulders slowly lower themselves. His face is no longer scrunched up, just blank and far away.

"okay...his shoulders are down now."

"great," shuffling from his side as he presumably adjusts in his chair or whatever he is sitting on. "Now, take one of your hands and gently tap from his hairline to the tip of his nose. Barely touching him, but enough for him to feel, if that makes sense. It should force his focus to your finger."

They nod, forgetting he can't see and again, do as instructed. At the first few taps Asher blinks and his eyes flutter around, his brows furrowing for a moment. He blinks a few more times before his gaze seems to focus on their eyes. They smile at him as gently as they can in their worried state.

"I think he's looking at me now, not looking through me.."

"that's great. You should be able to do the rest from here then, call me again if you need help. Make sure he drinks water and don't leave him alone too long."

"got it, thank you David."

"no problem, see you later." And the phone hangs up. They look back at Asher, his eyes looking into theirs.

"hey bubba, can you give me a sign you're actually with me again? A hum or something?" They ask, their voice quiet. Their hand cups his cheek gently as they watch his expression.

He leans his head into their hand and gives a tiny hum.

They smile and relax a bit.

"are you able to talk?" Their eyes again focus on his expression, ignoring the lack of usual eye contact. Asher shakes his head slightly. No talking then.

"alright, that's ok, we'll do the tapping system okay? One for yes, two for no, okay?"

He taps their leg once. They smile

"perfect. Are you anxious?" Two taps

"no. Okay. Overstimulated? That would make sense." One tap. They nod

"okay, overstimulated. From work?" Two taps.

"no? Hm..." they stop to think and only then do they notice that the shirt hes wearing is torn, directly above his scars.

"....Ash, you don't have to answer this one of its too much. But were you scratching at your scars and that's what caused it?"

Hesitation, then one tap.

"okay, that's perfectly fine. Not the scratching part of course, but now I know what's wrong. Do you feel okay enough to stand?"

One tap.

_________

Should I do a part 2?

#x reader #redacted audio #redacted asmr #redacted asher #asher talbot #Overstim #comfort #david shaw #idk how to tag this

[evsstolenhearts]

THEY WAKE UP TO FIND TEENAGER(S) IN THEIR HOUSE

WHATS HAPPENING?!?!?!

CONNARD

YOU ARE A TEENAGER IN THE SHAW PACK AND BREAK INTO THEIR HOUSE!!

Connard is french for "cunt" or, the direct english translation is "ass"

David: walks downstairs, dressed to go to a Shaw Pack security gig, to see you sitting on his couch, with his chips, playing on his gaming counsel.... how the fuck did you get in? Walks up behind you and purposely scares you, has you falling of his couch and dropping the controller. Seriously doesn't even know how to react: pissed? Confused? Concerned? Annoyed? Asks why you are here, if it's a stupid reason, he kicks you out, serious reason, he will drop you off at ashers till hey can see what to do.

Asher: walks downstairs at 3am to get water, to see you dead asleep on the couch, cuddling with the plushie asher left out there:

Quietly gets his water and goes back to the bedroom to wake up baabe and get their opinion on what he should do. Probably softly wakes you up and let's yall have a long ass talk, on stupid shit, or deep shit.

Milo: sweetheart is the one to find you, they come out of the bedroom at 5am, to see you dead asleep hunched over the kitchen island. They decide to leave you be and leave for work, calling milo so he can make the decision on what to do since he has a better chance of understand why you are there, knowing if it's just something you do, or if it's a bigger thing.

Tank (more like sam): sam is obv awake at night, so he probably has a better chance of being the one to find you. Probably find your curled up on an arm chair, passed tf out. He's obviously concerned, how did u get in? Why are you here? Are you hurt? And Sam knows that tank would have the most knowledge, but tank is a fucking idiot sometimes and 9 times out of 10, seriously needs the sleep their getting. So he has to calmly wake you up and see if you're just crashing or something wrong.

Marie: let's you chill, no questions asked, it's ur choice if u share.

#redactedverse #evan got some thinks #redacted audio #redacted asmr #redacted headcanons #redacted teenagers #redacted david #redacted asher #redactedasmr #redacted milo greer #redacted milo #redacted tank #redacted darlin #redacted sam collins #redacted sam #redacted marie #redacted marie greer #redacted david shaw #redacted asher talbot

[zozo-01]

"is this the end of all the endings? (my broken bones are mending.)"

Happy Birthday to me!! It was my birthday earlier this month so I had to write myself a lil something something!! And you already knew I had to feature my favourite wolf and their vampire!!

[story takes place after before ‘cuddles and confessions’ but after ‘confronted by your alpha’, and sam and darlin’ aren’t together]

CW: Mentions of Abuse, Slowburn, Sam is an idiot, Darlin’ is an idiot, David is bad at planning surprises, Darlin’ has a fall birthday, Finessing the timeline a little, Author is outing herself by inserting her embarrassing and sad stories in this fic, Darlin’ is me, I am Darlin’, but they use they/them pronouns, There is one mention of Darlin’ being BIPOC but it’s a throwaway line for me and me alone

click here for the ao3 link!!!

--

Sam woke up that morning with his phone in his hands, a habit he only recently developed. 

Under normal circumstances, he would have left his phone on his bedside table, letting it charge for the next day. But these aren’t normal circumstances and they weren’t a normal person. To him, at the very least.

He’s long accepted that against his will, the wolf he met on Solaire land means more to him than what he’s willing to admit. It’s gotten to the point where he’s caught himself twitching with a smile in front of the clan when they sent one of their goofy daily updates. Thankfully, it was brief enough that no one noticed. Except for the clan’s resident lover boy.

“Oooooh, Sam’s got a partner! Is it the Shaw wolf? I bet it’s them- they’re soooo your type and I can’t blame you, they’re very pretty, hehe.”

“Vincent, shut up ‘fore I knock you on your ass.”

“Jealous much, am I right Lovely.~”

“Stop teasing Sam- VINCENT LOOK OUT!”

Laying in bed, Sam thinks about what it is about this reckless wolf that has him acting like a love-struck teenager. Their striking appearance was what drew him in, and who could blame him. Darlin’ looked like the bad, city kid ripped from every romance novel. He adored their appearance but it was their heart, their righteous anger and that goddamn beautiful smile that kept him staying up at night talking to them, in the hopes that he’s making them happy on the other end. 

(It would some time before Darlin’ confesses this fact, but there is a video on Marie's phone where they’re screaming in a pillow because that’s how enamoured they are with him.)

Speaking of messages, he opened his phone to see if there were any unread texts from them. His heart raced when he saw that there was one unread notification, thinking it was from Darlin’. His heart sank when it wasn’t their contact name highlighted, but it picked up again when it was a message from David Shaw. Sam opened it, nerves making him sick as to what their Alpha has said.

Mr. Shaw: Buy a chocolate cake for the troublemaker.

Mr. Shaw: It’s their birthday and they’re ignoring our messages.

Overcoming the initial shock caused by David messaging him, his mind went blank.

 It’s their birthday. And he didn’t buy any presents for them. What terrible future partner he was.

Sam was still confused as to why David was messaging him of all people. Darlin’ had been integrating back into the pack, at a glacial pace for sure, but it was more progress than they expected. Given what sparse stories they tell him about the infamous Shaw Pack, Asher and Milo would have been the better option for throwing the party they deserve. David ended any further pondering Sam might have done with his next message.

Mr. Shaw: They know that we know it’s their birthday, so in a failed attempt to make today not a big deal, they will be ignoring any of our wishes.

Mr. Shaw: I’m willing to bet that they haven’t told you that their birthday was coming up, so the pack is relying on you to give them their first normal birthday, since… him. It doesn’t have to be anything flashy, they’d kill me if it was.

If that’s the case, then Sam will make this the best ‘not-a-big-deal-birthday’ birthday party to ever party. 

Sam Collins: of course sir

Sam Collins: leave ‘em to me

Mr. Shaw: Thank you, Sam. For being there and caring for them in a way that the pack hasn’t.

Mr. Shaw: Also, you don’t have to keep calling me sir.

He chuckled at the last message, amused by the Alpha’s blunt care for his fellow wolf. He was glad that despite all the emotional baggage between the two introverted wolves, that he was always there for them, and they will always be there for him. 

Ignore the fact that their birthday is during the fall. (“Autumn, Sam. It’s autumn.”) That’s just a mere coincidence that has nothing to do with anything. So what if his favourite person was born during his favourite season? So what if their rare smile is as warm as the fall sun, warm and bright and comforting in the most magical way possible. It doesn’t have to mean anything. 

(It meant everything to Sam. For a man, who didn’t believe in soulmates and happily ever afters, it’s pretty damn hard to deny the idea that they were made for him. Every facet of their personality perfectly complimented his own. Their stubbornness with his care. Their shit eating grins with his amused yet exasperated grunts. The city kid who learned to fight in the trenches and the cowboy who could shoot before he could walk. A shifter who’s very nature is change and a vampire who is at an eternal standstill. The unstoppable force and the immovable object.) 

(Stardust intertwines their bodies, magic binds their souls, their fates and destinies are tied together whether or not either of them accepts it. Sam waits patiently in the stark white room, waiting for the sun to shine on him like he was the moon. Gentle care is what awaits them both in the future, and between you and me, he much prefers their soft light over the harsh rays of heat from his childhood.)

Where was he again? Oh right, the not-a-big-deal-birthday’ birthday party. His mind seems to wander these days when it comes to them. 

He switches the contacts in his phone, taking a minute to admire their contact picture. How someone could look so done with life, yet adorable, he will never understand. Another one of life’s greatest mysteries and he’s happy to solve it with them.

Sam Collins: can i come over today? 

Before his heart could pound in anticipation for a response, Darlin’ had already figured out his plan.

pretty wolf 🐺: no

pretty wolf 🐺: no

pretty wolf 🐺: no

Sam Collins: can i at least explain?

pretty wolf 🐺: n o o o o 

pretty wolf 🐺: i refuse to let david’s plans work

pretty wolf 🐺: you will absolutely not come over

Sam Collins: how on earth did you guess all o’ that? and why would ya assume david’s in on it?

pretty wolf 🐺: because that man is terrible at planning surprises ‘cuz he’s too predictable

pretty wolf 🐺: i’m surprised his mate let him get away with this

pretty wolf 🐺: so no

Sam Collins: but it’s your birthday?

pretty wolf 🐺: and??? so??? you’re absolutely welcome to come over if the leafs win the cup, but that aint happenin till i die

Sam Collins: i’ll bring cake and food

pretty wolf 🐺: …im payin you back

pretty wolf 🐺: dont fight me on that

Sam Collins: wouldn’t dream of it

Sam Collins: see you in a few

pretty wolf 🐺liked your message

–

cowboy has read your message

Ok, they think every nook and cranny of their small apartment is spotless. Considering the lack of furniture in their apartment, it wasn’t a hard task to complete. 

They made a note on their phone to remind themselves to kill David at the next pack meeting. How many times did they have to tell him and the rest of those assholes that no, they didn’t need a birthday party. Just send a text and they were content. Darlin’ never liked being the centre of attention unless they did something notable enough to earn it. Celebrating them because their parents happened to bang nine months prior was definitely not on the ‘something notable’ list.

(They won’t mention that it was their fear of the future, the unknown, that prevented them from celebrating the mundane. Memories of shattered glass and tears and bullets were enough to remind them that the good times never last.)

(But maybe Sam will prove otherwise. Emphasis on the maybe.)

They go through their wallet, pulling out a couple hundred dollar bills, ready to shove them down Sam’s pockets so he’ll take it home. It would be easier to venmo or e-transfer it, but despite his young appearance, Sam firmly believes in not leaving a paper or cash trail behind. They’d joked that it was ok if he had a criminal past, they were used to hanging out with the unsavoury crowd. But when he went silent and drifted back in time, they quietly accepted his outlook, even if it made it damn near impossible to pay him back for his generosity.

They sat on the couch, answering calls and texts from their pack and family. Giving half-hearted responses and begging Asher to stop fucking singing was what they did. Their mom asked if they would come home soon. (ہمیں آخری بار ایک دوسرے کو دیکھے کافی عرصہ ہو گیا ہے۔) But between Quinn and the pack and their lawyer work, it was another birthday away from their parents. (مجھے بہت افسوس ہے ماں، شاید اگلے سال؟) It gets easier to treat their birthday as non-important to their parents every year that goes by, but it’s getting harder to ignore the pain in their mom’s voice.

Before their eyes teared up at their parent’s disappointment, there was a knock on the door. They jumped, doing a quick once over of their place. Darlin’ took a deep breath, trying in vain to calm their pounding heart, and opened the door with their signature deadpan.

There he was. Leaning against the door frame with a cake and takeout in his hands, with that stupid smile on his face. It had to be illegal to be this attractive and sweet and caring, wrapped up into the finest body they have ever seen. They should sue him for stealing their heart because they know if he breaks it, they may never recover. 

Fuck, it’s always terrifying to bare their emotions freely, but Darlin’ was used to it.

So why is he different, and how would he hurt them in the end?

“I know David probably threatened you to do this, but you really didn’t have to.” They waited to see if Sam would walk in on his own, but between being a vampire and being a southern gentleman, he needed a written invitation on gold paper to invite himself inside. Darlin’ moved out of the way to let the vampire inside. 

He shook his head and smiled, walking inside and taking his shoes off. “David didn’t force me to do nothin’, darlin’. In fact,” he placed the bag of takeout and cake on the table, “he seems more worried about his own ass then my own.” He chuckled and opened his arms, waiting for Darlin’ to hug him. (Always waiting. Always patient with them.)

They held himself back from jumping into his arms, wrapping their arms around his waist. Taking a deep breath (though not too deep to seem weird), Darlin’ responded. “Good. He knows what’s gonna happen at the next meetin’.” Their shoulders relaxed when they felt his arms around him, and for a vampire, his body was warmer than most. At least warmer than Quinn.

He laughed, squeezing them closer to his chest. (Bury them in his rib cage to keep them safe.) “I’m sure you’ll beat his ass.” He rested his chin on top of them, rubbing their back in the process. If they had less willpower than they do, they would have fallen asleep right then and there. “Happy Birthday, Darlin’.”

Pulling away, Darlin’ looked at Sam’s warm and beautiful eyes. And for the first time that day, they smiled and said, “Thank you, Sam,” with genuine sincerity. It wasn’t forced or given because they were obligated too. Darlin’ didn’t know why it was different with him. They like to think it’s because they didn’t expect all this from a man they had met only a few months ago, or it’s because Sam was the type of man who didn’t let many into his heart, so it was an honour to receive this care from him so often.

(It’s definitely not because Darlin’ is in love with him. It can’t be. Subtly looking to the side of the pots they had out, Darlin’ saw the face of a person who despite their best effort, could never make the right decision. They were messy and cruel and violent when needed, and Sam deserved softness. They might not know what he’s gone through in life, or why he’s the isolated curmudgeon of the clan, but it didn’t matter. He deserved the most sweetest and nicest and easiest and amazing partner to exist. Someone who didn’t make the worst case scenarios the norm or made him prepare for lecture beforehand.)

(People like Darlin’ don’t get soft endings, their jagged and sharp edges mangle the delicate future they could have if they weren’t so fucked up. They would rip the destinies from others, picking and choosing the sequence of events that are worthy to be Sam’s truth, but they won’t stick around to ruin it any further. Fate damns those who go against her wishes, and Darlin’ wasn’t going to let Sam be collateral damage.)

They cleared their throat to end the impromptu staring contest and turn to get plates from their cupboards. “How has your day been, cowboy?” They asked while placing the plates and cutlery on the table.

He took a seat at the barstool chair. “It’s been good,” he started. “William’s been getting ready for the Monarchal Summit, meanin’ we’re all workin’ overtime to get ready.” He stretched his back and Darlin’ bit their lip to stop themselves from making a comment from a popping noise. They slid him a plate of food, causing him to raise his eyebrow. “Ain’t you gonna eat too?”

They nodded their head. “I will, but I gotta do some things first real quickly.” They walked over to the sink, wanting to wash the dishes before they ate. But before they could turn the water on, Sam held their wrist to stop them.

“Darlin’, it’s your birthday. Let me do ‘em for ya.” He slowly reached for their waist to move them out of the way. Not like they were going to let that stop them.

“Sammy, you’re my guest. I can’t let ya do my housework.” They huffed, staring him dead in the eye to convince him otherwise.

He leaned over the wolf, pinning them to the counter. Now this is playing dirty. How on Earth were they supposed to focus when he’s staring them down like that? Their mind was wandering to some unholy territory, but they needed to win this argument.

“In my family, the birthday person don’t do shit ‘round the house.”

“Well in my family, the guests are served first. You got a problem with that, pretty boy?”

After a few moments of staring into each other’s eyes, Sam shook his head and picked Darlin’ up and carried them to a stool. Placing them down, he commanded, “Now you’re gonna sit pretty o’er here while I do the dishes, understood?”

Well shit. With a voice like that, how can they not listen to him? With a dazed look and complaints dying on their tongue, Darlin’ nodded. “I ain’t gon’ eat till you done, asshole.”

He smirked and promptly started on the dishes. “Of course, didn’t expect nothin’ less.” With that, his focus went back to the dishes, trying to finish up as fast as they can to end Darlin’s hunger strike.

They placed their arms on the table, resting their chin on it to stare at the man in front of them. For a selfish moment, they let their eyes indulge in the braids in his hair to his tan and unmarred skin to those built arms. They, of course, let their eyes linger on his arms, thinking about how big they are, how much work it went into achieving that size…

…How they would feel wrapped around their waist… How safe they would make them feel…

“Have I ever told you why I moved to Dahlia?”

He paused his dishwashing, looking up at the birthday wolf. Raising his eyebrows, he says, “How come?” It was rare that the wolf spoke about themselves, let alone their life before Dahlia. 

They took a deep breath. “I was 15 and walkin’ back from a basketball game. It was December, so it was dark as shit at 4 PM. Not that it was a problem, I always walked alone, so it was whatever.” They straightened their back. “I thought it was a good idea to walk alone ‘cuz I didn’t wanna wait in the cold for 15 minutes just for a packed bus to come. Besides, the walk wasn’t that bad.” 

Darlin’ chuckled at their stupidity. In hindsight, it was so easy to see their mistake. “Halfway through, a white van pulled up beside me and some assholes dragged me inside. Knocked me out too. Took me to some fightin’ ring bullshit since they could tell I was a shifter.”

Sam put the rest of his dishes away and walked around to stand besides Darlin’. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry.”

They shook their head with a laugh. “Oh I wasn’t there for long. Someone saw me get taken and the license plate of the van so the cops could track ‘em. There were some that had been there from time, though. I got out ‘fore I got thrown in the ring. But, like, let’s be honest, I woulda kicked some ass.” 

(Sam didn’t need to know that Darlin’ was convinced they were never going to get out. That the fact the police even looked for them was a miracle. Disappearing kids weren’t a new phenomenon to them. Everyone growing up had a friend or a family member that was taken but never found. Darlin’ was convinced they were going to be another statistic in a long line of tragic lives that ended quickly.)

(No one cares for the Black and Brown kids from Scarborough.)

He flicked their forehead gently. “Just ‘cus it didn’t last for long don’t mean it wasn’t fuckin’ terrifyin’. You were just a kid, Darlin’.”

Yeah. Yeah, they were just a kid.

They sniffled and wiped their eyes. “Right, um, yeah. Anywho, my parents didn’t think the city was safe anymore, so we packed our bags and moved out here.” The pleading that the event was a one time thing didn’t stop the rushed search of a new home. Within a month, Darlin’ had to say goodbye to all their friends and the neighbourhood they grew up in. Resentment and denial brewed in them, thinking this was all a dream until they stepped onto the plane. 

The silence was deafening, filled with unsaid comforts and reassurances. 

Why on Earth did they drop that story on him? Sam had only come by to celebrate their birthday, something he didn’t even have to do. He didn’t ask for this story and Darlin’ never voluntarily gave out information. They’ve always been taught that people will use their secrets against them, using their own trauma as knives to further hurt them. Not that it would stop people from spilling their story.

Ripping their heart on a silver platter to feed the wolves around them, but it was never enough. So they would break and build themselves to entertain and if they could get a good laugh, then their job would be complete. Because even if it was better to have no friends than bad friends, they so desperately wanted connections that they would smile with bloody teeth and bruised lips to convince themselves that people were laughing with them and not at them.

But Sam wouldn’t do that to them. (It wasn't a question or an unsure statement, it was the truth.)

Breaking the silence, Darlin’ looked Sam in the eye. “You wanna hear about me bein’ a dumbass?”

Sam scoffed, “Is your version of bein’ dumbass include you dying in a ditch?” They knew he said it in jest, but there was an undertone of desperation and fear in his voice. Darlin’ wishes they could soothe that pain in his voice.

“No, no, not that kind of dumbass.” They grab a couple of plates and the takeout Sam brought so they can have some food with a less depressing story. “Have I mentioned that I have family in the south?” They let out a giggle at the indignant noise that Sam let out. They kept this fact hidden from him because they knew once he found out, they’d be in for another lecture on how ‘every southern person ain’s cowboy.’

“So you know bein’ southern don’t equal bein’ a cowboy? But you still call me cowboy every damn chance you can get?” He sat next to them, facing towards the wolf. One arm resting on the table while the other rubs his face in frustration. “They didn’t teach ya any southern manners? Maybe they should have their southern card revoked.”

They rolled their eyes and handed him a plate. “Oh ha ha. You got jokes now, wait til I tell you this story.” They sat next to him and started eating the food. Shocked by the quality of the food, Darlin’ moaned out a thank you to Sam for buying all this food.

(Sam get your mind out of the gutter and get your friend under control.)

Swallowing the food, they continued with the story. “So, I don’t know why, but my cousin was obsessed with me also havin’ a southern accent. So he-” They started to chuckle at the memory. Chuckles turned to full blown laughter to Darlin’ clutching their stomach in pain. It had been a while since they let out a laugh this loud, but it felt good to not contain themselves for once. 

“Sounds like a good story if you can’t tell it without laughin’.” Adoration in his eyes, he kept looking at Darlin’. They didn’t notice it, too busy keeping themselves from choking on the food they just ate.

Finally calming down and completely breathless, Darlin’ finished their story. “I don’t know why he did this, but he told me that all southern people end their sentences with ‘yeehaw’. So for the longest time, I always add a ‘yeehaw’ to the end of southern sentences.”

“So… Do you do that with me?”

Their silence was enough to confirm the vampire’s suspicions and send him on the table laughing.

Darlin’ gently assaulted Sam, making sure they weren’t doing serious damage, but enough to let him know that they don't appreciate his reaction. In all honesty they weren’t completely against this reaction. For as long as Darlin’ known Sam, he wouldn’t let a smile slip on his face, let alone laughter. A real shame too, Sam has such an ethereal smile and an infuriatingly melodic laugh. It wasn’t fair! Why was he so pretty when laughing at them?

(Darlin’ thinks back to their earlier thoughts. About how they’d keep people laughing at them to keep them around. Usually, it hurt to be the town’s object of ridicule and criticism, but maybe it’s a sin to keep from laughing. So perhaps they found themselves genuinely smiling along with him for the first time in ever.)

With a huff, Darlin’ says, “How dare you make fun of my naivety, Samuel? You mean and vile and vicious vampire.” They turn away from him, facing the delicious cake that he bought and hiding the stupid smile they have on their face. Come to think of it, how did Sam know to buy chocolate cake? It is one of those cakes that are universally loved, so it’s a good assumption. Yet to their knowledge, Sam only knew them as a ‘sweets disliker’. A delusional part of them wants to think that they’re so linked that he didn’t need to be told. (Or give David one less punch.)

Once Sam’s laughter finally dies down, Darlin’ turns back around and asks him, “Why the chocolate cake?” He tilted his head in confusion, yet silent to give them the room to continue. “I mean- not a lot of people know I like chocolate.”

He rubbed the back of his neck with a nervous chuckle. “If I tell ya, promise you won’t hurt nobody?”

“No promises can be made.”

“David told me to buy you one.”

Oh, so that is one less punch for David. The fact that he remembered that weird fact about themself was a testament of how much time and change their Alpha has gone through. (And how they’ve stagnated, using their pain as a blanket to keep them from getting older.)

With a shake of their head and a childish huff, they grab the cake and a knife. “Of course he did. Fuckin’ asshole.” They moved to slice the cake, before Sam stopped them with a shit eating smile on his face. “Don’t I gotta sing you a song?”

“No you don't-”

“Happy Birthday to you.”~

Darlin’ groaned and covered their ears. The only thing that has going for him is that it's Sam singing and he's a better singer than Asher. They threw their arms up in defeat, having given up in stopping him from singing, and definitely not because they wanted to listen to his heavenly voice. 

Once the performance was done, Darlin’ cut two slices of cakes, one for themselves and the vampire they love. It was simple and quiet, the perfect way to end their birthday. No performing for other people or coercion to have fun. Quinn wasn’t hovering over their shoulder taking random bites from their neck.

“You know, I’m sorry I couldn’t get a proper gift for you,” he apologized with sincerity, but that sincerity had him leaning back, avoiding a flick on his forehead from Darlin’. “What! It’s true!” 

Quietly, they grabbed a pillow from their couch and started to hit him. He can’t get away for doing all of this and saying it isn’t enough. What a fool. (Oh, they want him so fucking desperately.) Darlin’ scoffed, “You have already done enough for me! What more do you wanna do?”

With a smile, he gently grabbed their wrist and moved it down, ending the tirade of pillow attacks. They were paralyzed in one spot, completely enamoured by Sam. It wasn’t a trance, they were infinitely familiar with the oppressive hold of one. This was something stronger and more personal, they felt it in their core. Technically, vampires are incapable of bridging since they are dead creatures of the night, but this was the closest either of them were going to get to. Sam raised a hand to place on their cheek, thumb rubbing the scar under their eye. Almost like he could heal every scar and mark on their body, no matter how deep and violating they may be.

He leaned over, whispering in their ear, “All I want to give you…”

“Is a goddamn sense of preservation.”

“Oh, you ASSHOLE!”

The sounds of Sam’s laughter, Darlin’s cursing, a vampire zipping around and a wolf shifting were coming from their shitty apartment. For the first time, Dahlia has felt like home.

(David, Asher, Milo and their mates left when they heard the sounds of joy coming from the wolf’s little home. It was best not to disturb the two while they’re having fun. The pack can always throw a belated party for them.)

#redacted asmr #redacted audio #redacted fanfic #redacted darlin #redacted sam #lets play a game #which stories are real and which ones are fabricated for the fic hehehehe #zo writes tingz #this is zo speaking

[anexistingexistence]

Something possessed me on the car ride back home from therapy so here's the Redacted characters playing fuck marry kill with the lyrics of this song

"An army of Furbies that won't stop chanting the Lord's prayer

A can of rigatoni on the street

Going over to a friend's house for a sleepover for the first time, and their dad wants them to pop a cyst on his back, but they're really squeamish and faint, but he's in a lot of pain so you have to do it"

•Asher would marry the Furbies, fuck the can of rigatoni and kill that last situation because he would also be squeamish and faint and he'd rather kill a guy to avoid that.

•Guy, knowing better than Ash, would kill the Furbies, fuck the rigatoni and marry the dad situation because "who knows maybe he'll die soon and I'll inherit all his money... Honey what do you mean 'he's not that kind of daddy'?"

•Vega would fuck the Furbies, kill the rigatoni, and he just makes a very confused and slightly disgusted face at you when you describe the last scenario before walking off and never speaking to you again.

•Elliott kills the Furbies, marries the rigatoni (I honestly don't know why it just feels like an Elliott thing to do), and fucks the dad despite all the horror going on.

•David refused to answer any of these and just walked out of the room.

•Sam would kill the Furbies because "I swear to god, Darlin', I had one of 'em as a kid and it tried to kill me," marry the rigatoni and fuck the dad situation.

•Gavin would marry the Furbies ("my little underlings" (his words not mine)), fuck the can of rigatoni, and kill the dad because "ew."

•[Damien disapproves]

#rb this with whether you'd fuck marry or kill a can of rigatoni on the street #redacted audio #redacted asmr #redacted asher #redacted guy #redacted vega #redacted elliott #redacted david #redacted sam #redacted gavin #redacted damien

[its-still-cuppi-cakes]

Split Apart by Chaos

Sweetheart's pov

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Author's note: Sweetheart is referring to Milo as their husband because of how long they have been together. TRIGGER WARNING!! In this fanfiction mentions death, is emotional, and an implied anxiety attack. If that's not your type of read, don't continue here.

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Milo Greer. That's the only thing on my mind. My husband. My mate. The man who has been in my life for over half a decade made me the happiest person in the world, could be dead.

I was in my office when I was told about it. My coworker, Detective Gomez, came in and asked if I heard from my husband. I looked at them, my brow sewn together. "No, why?" Silence replaced the air in the dark room. His face grew pale, making my stomach turn. ".. You didn't hear?" I stood up, looking at them with fear and worry. "Hear.. what, Gomez," I press. He looks at me, hurt in his eyes. "The E&E games.. shades.. hundreds of them.. came into the stadium through a ward.. the Shaw pack was working as security for them, weren't they..?" The color in my face dropped to my shoes. "..Fuck."

I grabbed my jacket and stormed out to my car. I didn't even clock out. And I dare for the department to tell me jack shit about walking out. I didn't care and I don't care now. All I care about is my family.

I speed to my old college, running red light after red light, flooring the gas. I pull up to the parking lot, and security from D.U.M.P. is standing at the door. Getting out of my car, I grab my badge and phone. Heels clicking onto the concrete, I head to the door. One of the guards stands there, moving his arm to stop me. Before he could, I held my badge to his face, not stop walking. "Detective Greer, reporting from D.U.M.P., move."

I shove the two men out of my way by my shoulders, leaving them confused and stunned. Milo's gonna have my ass for being rude to the department I work for. Didn't care. He can lecture me all he wants, as long as I know he's okay with me. By my side. Holding my hand. I want to see his shit-eating grin and his eyes. His smile. His wolf form. Anything.

I pull up a picture of him holding our cat, Aggro. I'll use it to show people it and ask if they've seen him around the building. The window in the background tells me it was early in the morning when I took the picture, and the bed he was lying on was messy and unmade. Aggro, in his arms, looked tired and groggy as Milo looked at the camera with a pearly white smile. I tear up at the sight. "Please be okay," I mumble.

I look around, trying to see any sign of my werewolf lover. Chaos is all I see. Families and friends looking around the building, similar to what I look like. A mother was being held by what I assumed to be her husband, holding her as she panics. "It's technical difficulties, Honey, he's alright, I promise." "I'm sorry? Technical issues?" I think to myself. "Why the hell is D.U.M.P. lying to the public about this? Are these people not in this building to help?"

Never mind that right now. I have to find Milo and the others. I feel my anxiety crushing my chest. "Excuse me, have you seen this man around here? His name's Milo Greer. ... Okay thank you. " Excuse me, I'm sorry but have you seen any shifters around here? I'm trying to find my husband. He has a t-shirt that says Shaw Security on it. Have you seen anyone wearing anything like that? ... Okay, sorry. Stay safe."

Panic weighs on me. "Fuck fuck fuck shit fuck," I mumble to myself as I pull up another picture of Asher, David, Milo, and Tank in a living room from the past Solstice vacation cabin. I frantically look around. "Milo, please."

"Milo, please, please, please, please don't be in there. Please don't be dead." Tears fall as I try to push that thought out of my head. The image of his body... "No. He's not dead. He's fought shades before. He's more experienced in them. He knows what they're capable of. But they're shades. They're unpredictable. And you can't fight them off unless they're solid enough."

I flashback to our first date. If you could even call it that. Milo and I were working together to catch a shade that was causing trouble at big events like this. Milo was fighting off two that were almost fully solid. Mine? Not so much. It was enough to get ahold of, but only at certain parts of the body. Any part of it above its shoulders and below its waist was physical. My gun was torn by then dead shade's teeth during the fight. My knife was all I had. I was about to cloak when it struck me in the stomach and crawled at my clothes, ripping the bottom half of my shirt.

Pinning me to the wall,, its claws sinking into my neck. I saw its eyes. Black like a shark's, nothing held in them but hunger. As I thought that death was a breath away, I heard a growl. A low, angry growl. I smirk at the shade as it snarls, drooling on its grey lip.

The brown and white werewolf tackled the shade, digging his teeth into the shade's neck as it screeched, death sub coming to it. Milo snarled as he threw the corpse out of his mouth. Milo walked to me as I lay on the grass and dirt, gasping for air. I look at him. He looked at me softly. He looked at me like he was asking if I was okay.

From that day on, he has been gentle with me. He's been there for me. My wolf. My protector. My mate.

I snap back from my thoughts to my phone on my lap, vibrating. I look at the notification, reading my mate's name on the top. "Sweetheart, there's something going on at the games, I'm okay but I'm going to try and find out info on what's going on and how I can help. I love you." Sent two hours ago. The interference with the ward must have slowed the text down.

Frantically dodging the people in the crowd as I slip by them. I look around, trying to find Milo in the sea of people crying and talking over one another. Mothers, fathers, brothers, sisters, and friends sit in the cafeteria of the school. Some calling, many legs bouncing, parents pacing. I look around the tables, hoping to see any familiar faces.

I stop in my tracks, seeing a familiar figure in the crowd. Brown hair, Brooklyn accent, black t-shirt with the name [GREER] across the shoulder blades. I stand there, crying in relief. My voice quakes.

"Milo!"

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

The End!!

#redacted verse #redacted fandom #redacted fanfic #redacted asmr #redacted audio #redacted #redacted sweetheart #redactedverse #redacted milo