#fuzzy writes

[dreamtuna]

“What are these?”

You stared curiously at the paper bag that had been dropped onto the table. It wasn’t uncommon for Levi to bring you small gifts and treats and dump them unceremoniously in front of you like this. It was just the way things were between you.

He sat himself into the seat opposite you and gestured towards the bag. Not sure what to expect, you unrolled the paper and peered inside. You gasped, quickly tipping the bag to empty out some of the contents into your hand. You’d never quite seen anything like them.

“What are these?” you repeated, eyes wide in excitement.

Colourful little drops lay on your palm, sugar coating both them and the table now from tipping the bag. Levi tutted, leaning forward to gather the sugar in a neat pile, using the opportunity to lower his head a little to hide the way his eyes lit up at your excitement. You’d caught it though, your grin widening even further at how he still thought he could hide these things from you.

“They’re sweets,” he explained, reaching to grab one gently from you. “They called them fruit jellies.”

You leaned forward to look even closer at these colourful little jellies, trying to decide which one to try first, what colour could be what fruit. But Levi’s hand was reaching out towards you.

“Open your mouth,” he told you.

He placed the sweet on your tongue, the sugar instantly assaulting your senses, but before he could fully pull back you grabbed his wrist, giving him a soft, sugary kiss on his fingertips. The sweetness engulfed your mouth as he slowly pulled back, hand lingering in yours for just long enough to squeeze it gently.

He made a mental note to get more of these in future.

[kanene-yaaay]

The Benefits of a Restful Sleep (and other things that a friend can help you with)

Kanene's notes: In my defense, Dogday is way too cute and kind. That was his mistake. Now I just HAD to make an entire story where he is alive and the Player is both the most stubborn bean ever and the biggest softie to set a foot in the factory. That is it. That is the entire story. Warnings: Mentioned death as a form of reset, angst and mention of injury and blood. It's discussed but not too deeply and isn't the main plot of the story. Raspberries, nibbles, lots of teasing, hurt/comfort and roothing fluff. Reader is adressed with they/them. Around 9.500 words. Heavily inspired by @fluffymary 's wonderful, incredible stories. Take a look at them too :D

[~*~]

You were exhausted.

That was a problem.

Sure, tiredness wasn’t really a new feeling in your life when you looked at the big scheme of things. Even before you went back to your old workplace, it used to cling on your bones, to fill your mind with memories and to pull your spirits down at any time of the day when a kid’s laughter or flowers would remind you of everything you tried so hard to leave behind.

(And look where you are now.)

The constant ‘fighting for your life’ thing also hasn't been helping a lot lately. Adrenaline and the will to keep on living were perfect for the battles but could only get you so far when the feeling of danger and fear scrutinized all of your steps, stalking in any and every corner, waiting for the right moment to strike. Days and hours became a total mess and the longer you spent on exploring and surviving, the more and more things that were once important started to fade to a background thought in your head.

Food was one of them. Water. Sleep. The debris and destruction brought a lot of memories and enemies but hardly a safezone where you could actually sit down, breathe and rest for a bit. It was fine, though. The solution was simple and quick. 

Dying.

Sounded harsh when you thought about it in that way, to be honest. 

Resetting. 

Or something like that.

Not during a fight, of course. After the first couple of times, it quickly became annoying and no fun at all to have to experience all the chase and… other things more than once. However, on other occasions, missteps into an abyss happen and sometimes a bad calculation using the grabpack could be fatal (and more frequent than you should admit.) 

You couldn’t deny its convenience. In a blink you would wake up, not hungry, thirsty or exhausted, a few meters behind your previous location and then you would be ready to go until the pain of hunger or the feeling of being in a brick of passing out appeared once again.

It was not the best, you knew, but it was a good enough solution. 

It was fine.

(It was fine.) 

Especially now, when you have someone else depending on you to survive. Saving Dogday had been tricky and much, much harder than the alternative. Keeping him alive after that, during the smiling critters chase and the aftermath, even more so. None of this didn’t really matter, though. It was worth it. 

The beginning had been tougher. With all the emotions, the changes, pain (and how to keep going after all of that), going back to Home Sweet Home and getting into more trouble trying to turn on all the generators. The fact that, not very longer after getting into the Daycare, you found a new, clean fabric and a set of tools to take care of Dogday’s injuries was the perfect help, even if the coincidence of that encounter had bordered on a miracle that made your skin prickle in discomfort as you had stared at the sewing kit localized (placed) just a few meters away from you two. There was no way that this could have been accidental. 

(Ever since you set a foot in this factory not a single encounter, voice, tape or battle seemed a coincidence and the fear of the image that this puzzle was creating haunted your every choice.)

Nevertheless, beggars couldn’t be choosers. Even though Dogday stayed unusually quiet for a really long time after his injuries were taken care of, he still insisted on using it despite both of your strong suspicions, not wanting to be a ‘burden’, anymore.

You disagreed strongly with that word, of course. Not only because his knowledge of the place and the little shortcuts or hidden spaces had been essential both to escape from the hungry toys and to make your path confusing enough to mislead any pursuers you had was essential to your survival, but also because… 

Damn. 

You just really missed this.

Chatting. Having someone truly by your side. No second intentions or guesses or working around to earn a couple of moments of dialogue. Just a companionship and a fighter if needed, someone bright who could, just with their presence and company, help to keep your focus and your objectives in mind. 

Dogday’s voice was raspy and rough but his words were light and kind. He would insist on calling you ‘angel’ and gesture excitedly around when he was talking, pulling your attention back when you began losing yourself in your thoughts. He would help solving the complicated puzzles spread through the factory and hold your hand tight to hide the tremble of his own paws when you both went through somewhere too dark. He would joke and hold and help and you wished you could put in words how no trouble in the world could make his presence here not worth it. 

That is why you couldn’t afford passing out right now. That is why you kept pulling one foot after the other and continued your path to the end of this hell.

Unfortunately, the very reason that kept you moving forward was the same one blocking you from actually managing to reset your body and get over that tiredness.

The fact that Dogday cared.

He was smart and quite smooth too. That was clear after all the times he would ‘accidentally’ get in front of you when you managed to step a bit too close from a deepless hole or how he would suddenly remember a shortcut that would have you to deviate from the giant abyss you had been eyeing for a few moments ago or when he distracted you as he followed another direction, a light pull on your wrist and a inviting conversation on the tip of his tongue, the pit getting farther and farther away.

It was a bit endearing, you couldn’t lie.

However, when a badly placed hand of your grabpack successfully made you slip from a fatal high and you only had time to listen to a surprised yelp (or more like a ‘yap’?) before a giant orange arm held you close to a fluffy chest you were actually torn between hitting something in frustration and melting in the warmth.

Dogday smiled, looking down. 

“Ops, you almost fell in there, angel.” His eyebrow was crooked and his expression filled with tension and confusion. Yep. He definitely realized what was going on. That kind of sucks.

He started heading the other direction, taking a different path to where you were going. “You‘re really tired, aren’t you? Saving everyone must cost a lot of energy.” His eyes softened. You struggled to keep yours open, body inevitably relaxing with his voice and kind touch. “And, well, I don’t think you had a lot of opportunities to rest since you got here too, right? Ehehe. That is… a bit worrisome. Humans need plenty of sleep and we have been walking for a long time already!”

You have survived longer without it. It was fine. There were more generators that had to be turned on before anything else. Those were your priorities.

Dogday acknowledged the end of your sentence before shaking his head vehemently, his ears flopping around in an endearing way. 

“The generators have been turned off for a long time now, a few more hours won’t hurt. You are our priority, angel.” Dogday tried to not let his tail wag in adorableness when he pulled you closer to his chest and you let your head and eyelids fall with a really tiny, quiet sound for a moment too long before opening them and watching him in a stubborn manner. “And I think I know somewhere where we can hide for long enough before continuing.” 

He watched as you deviated your gaze, thoughtful. Almost there.

“Besides, my kind angel” he let his posture go, just a little. The exhaustion from… everything showing from the light of his eyes to the darkness of his mouth. Trusting had been what got him stuck but also what freed him. He could offer this human a bit more of it. “I-I really think I need time to recover. Sometimes it just… hurts.”

He looked down and you didn’t need to follow his gaze to get what he was saying.

Oh.

Oh.

That was what settled it. You nodded. But he had to put you on the ground. 

You kept your expression firm and ignored his playful chuckle and the way he only pulled you closer with your words, because if he kept holding you, there was no way you would not fall asleep instantly and you both couldn’t afford that until he got to that safe place.

With a huff and a beginning of a pout he acquiesced and put you on the cracked floor, getting your point. He had to hide his snickers with his paw when you wobbled on the same spot for a second before eventually gathering your strength back, feeling a million times more tired. 

Urg. Relaxing was a mistake.

“Don’t worry, it’s not too far from here. We will get there in no time!” 

(...)

Took longer than he expected for you to finally lay down, but it was worth it. The place was one of the old dorms so there were a lot of pillows and mattresses thrown around, a few somewhat still holding a good condition for use. With the help of some furniture and moving around, you managed to barricade the door and build a sort of nest hidden in a farther corner so that it would be really difficult to notice through any window. 

The human seemed ready to pass out at any moment, yawning and giving the door a last look, watching every creek and tear on the walls for anything that could be dangerous, even after all their previous care to make this place as safe as possible. Silly dear.

Dogday has always prided himself in being perceptive. Both because of the kids he once needed to watch and take care of and also because it’s important to notice and understand the details around your teammates so he would know when to help them.

(Old habits die hard, as it seems.)

And, yeah, maybe it had something to do with how long he spent without seeing a human or how he missed having someone (anyone-) who cared so much around. But he couldn’t really help to watch, prod and pick every little detail and gesture of yours around as if he was collecting flowers in a garden. Humans were so… expressive, and this one wasn’t different at all. 

Angel was fierce and determined, going silently and non stop through the facility and all their objectives with a focused mind and precise movements. Their senses and general environmental awareness were good, too, catching hints and dangers just a second or two after Dogday himself caught them, which, considering their small ears and eyes, was an incredible feat. 

Still, like a true angel, strength and kindness walked side by side with them. Dogday didn’t say that only because that person was the literal reason he was alive today, but simply because it was clear as water how much of a true softie you were inside. It was in the way they fired only around the small smile critters, avoiding to actually burn and kill them (even though he didn’t really know how he should feel about it), on how they carried and treated his wounds and how all their features - tensed, anxious and angry - softened everytime they looked at him. 

It was on the way that they walked slower to accompany him, amusing his rambles with pokes of fun and interesting additions and in how each touch or word was filled with tenderness and respect. He didn’t feel like a toy with them like some old employers had made him feel before or a failure as… others made him believe.

So, his companionship was extremely captivating and maybe that was why it hadn’t been really hard to notice how the little tiny hints and actions came together to form a quite worrisome image of how disregarding about their own safety they were. Jumping into fights, crawling into dangerous, small spaces without thinking twice (he couldn’t get them there, if he needed he couldn’t get them there-), following strangers’ orders and running over cliffs as if their life wasn’t the thing that mattered the most and Dogday would always be there to catch them when they fell.

(What did they use to do when he wasn’t?)

Even now, he huffed as the human slowly took off the grabpack while still not even lowering themselves on the mattress or trying to get comfortable even though they seemed ready to slip into unconsciousness at any time now. Alert to the very last second.

It felt a bit nostalgic, if he was being honest. At least helping someone to go to sleep was a kind of problem that he knew how to solve. 

With no further ado, he let himself fall on the soft pile with a ‘oof’, slowly rolling around the cleanest pillows they found and hugging the mattress as a loud, relaxed sighing fled from his mouth. His entire body seemed to untense with the unexpected comfortable feeling. How long had it been since he could just enjoy being surrounded by softness and safety like this?

His tail began contently thumping on the pile, another sigh leaving his mouth and making him forget for a moment his objective as he rolled more and more on the spot, the pure feeling of bliss taking over his senses until the sound of amused chuckles brought him back to reality.

He opened his eyes only to find an incredibly fond gaze looking right back at him. The absurd weight that haunted his friend’s shoulders seemed to have disappeared for a moment and, if he really concentrated enough on those kind eyes, it was like the rest of the world became unfocused. That is right! Dogday shook his head, as if cleaning it from his distracting thoughts. He had a mission to accomplish! Get the human to rest! No more fooling around!

“Hmmmm, It’s so, so, sooo comfy here!” Dogday controlled his voice so his playful tune wouldn’t show too much and give away his plan. He got a pillow and shoved his face on it just to highlight his words. “Like a kingdom made of clouds, where all the citizens get to lay down and rest all day, everyday and their favorite hobby is to cuddle and snuggle. Sounds like a nice place, don’t you think?” 

You agreed, snorting when two expectanting lights turned around and Dogday patted the spot right beside him, only smiling bigger when you pretended to roll your eyes and finally, finally, laid down, barely touching the pile before your body crumbled the rest of the way.

It was… really soft. Even more than you expected from such old furniture but that could be the exhaustion talking. A relieved groan filled the place and before you could process that it came from your lips two arms came and carefully pulled you to a bunch of even softer fluff, which automatically made you snuggle closer, hugging the pillow (friend?) and relaxing, body aching with how much tension flew away from it so quickly.

A sweet voice said something in the background, but all of your senses melted together with your muscles when a hand began rubbing your back, drawing light circles on your spine and following it to your neck, briefly massaging it before going back to the back rubs.

That nice voice kept talking and you could briefly distinguish the words ‘deserve’, ‘rest’ and ‘good’ before the hand got a bit too close to your side and you giggled. The hand stilled but it was okay, it just tickled, that is all. No need to stop. 

This was really nice, you kind of missed it. 

You snuggled more.

All of it. It’s been a while.

As the darkness of the unconsciousness started taking you away, an amused, fond ‘aww’ was the last thing you heard.

(...)

You woke up with a scare.

Nothing necessarily happened, but your body immediately tensed, in alert. Blurry eyes traveled with speed around the room in search for any kind of movement, the silence helping to amplify the sound of any enemy that could be closer. 

One second, two seconds…all you could pick up was the paused, calm snoring of Dogday still being deeply asleep.

Right. Safe. You were both safe.

You let go of a breath you didn’t even realize you were holding, blinking rapidly to scare the sleep out of your sight as you looked up, mind finally getting time to grasp the memories from last… (night? hours? day? irrelevant). The quick beating of your heart started to slow down to a normal pace and you laid down again on the mattress, now wide awake.

Dogday was still sleeping. That was good. He deserved all the peaceful rest he could get after everything that happened.

And, to be honest, it was quite amusing to watch him sleep. Each time he snored his big ears flopped just the slightest bit around and from time to time those little muffled barks would appear on the back of his throat and his tail would wag a bit, not so different from a real dog.

(He truly was a marvel of science.)

At one time you could almost swear he said a name, but it was so low that you couldn’t quite catch it.

Beyond all of that, you couldn’t deny how right Dogday had been, resting really did wonders to your body and mood. You could feel your mind clearer and your muscles less stiff, even if still quite sore. Also, it was made in a rush, that is true, but the soft pillow pile really was comforting enough that it didn’t make it any easier to get up and go on about your day.

Still, as always, there was work to do. It really wouldn’t hurt to get up in the vents and walk around a bit to see if there was any murder toy wandering close so you could attract them away before they could interrupt Dog’s sleep. 

It wasn’t anything really that urgent, however,… It felt weird not doing anything in this place, to deliberately choose to stay instead of to move. Letting your guard down last night had been literally the only thing you could do with how exhausted you were and having a trustful friend close by your side, but now? When you were more rested and nowhere close to the exit? The jittery feeling was already catching up to you. 

You tried to get up, only to be stopped by an arm closing on your midriff, a nose being pressed on the top of of head and nuzzling it with care before a raspy voice - you really needed to find some kind of oil or toolbox to help with his voicebox, sometimes it felt like he was always with a sore throat - glitched for a half second before coming to life in a quiet, slurred “Angel?”

Good morning, sleepy beauty.

Dogday huffed in amusement. Silence washed over you both once again.

A while passed and no more words were exchanged. Uh, probably went back to sleep already. You tried to carefully extract yourself from his hold. 

“Mm? What happened?” Dogday yawned, sounding a bit more awake this time. “Do we have to go?” He propped himself in one elbow, using his enormous height to peak over the hiding place and watch the door and windows, ears perking up in a search of any strange sound. “I’m not listening to any danger. This is a good spot.”

You agreed, feeling a tad bad that you woke up your companionship unnecessarily with your unrelenting thoughts. Nothing really happened, you assured, he could go back to sleep if he wanted. You could stay with the guarding shift.

Rubbing his eyes and yawning more, the sentient toy then changed his focus to you, noticing the slight drop in your tune, mind becoming clearer as he added to that detail the stiffness that went back in your shoulders. His brain tried to connect the dots.

“Did you have a nightmare, sunshine?”

No, not really. 

“What happened?”

It’s all just… too much thoughts. You wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep like this, not without a distraction. It would be the best if you got something to do, so he could go back to his nap. It was fine, you would stay awake in guard.

“I see.”

He laid back down, however, instead of letting you go and immediately go back to sleep, as you expected, he began massaging your shoulders, mouth turning into a pout when that didn’t make you melt completely in blissful slumber like last night, but at least got some of the tension out. 

Even if it felt like the human continued to hold onto every last drop of stress for some reason, refusing to close their eyes or fully relax. Knowing their current situation, Dogday could understand. But still, his friend should be able to enjoy this little chance of a rest that they’ve got. They were both so tired and finally had a good place to spend some good old lazy time without being worried about running for their lives or seeing nightmares at each blink of eyelids. It was not the best spot that the factory could once offer, of course, yet nowadays it was like a piece of heaven.

He wished he could help his angel to enjoy it. Yesterday they seemed so happy. But unless he could think in a good distraction…

A sudden thought then popped in his head, a memory from what happened the previous night. An idea.

Hm.

“Sunshine, do you like games?”

Games? Like… hide and seek or catch? 

Dogday nodded, looking eager. 

Yeah, you did. Even so, you don’t think that making up some ruckus will be good to keep up their hidden spot, well, hidden.

“No, no! This one doesn’t involve running or anything that could give up our location. Actually, you won’t even need to move from where you are to play it.”

Really? Well, it was worth a shot, then. 

“Alright. Do you remember what happened when we found those old rags in one of the corridors a few days ago?”

Yes, you did.

You watched as Dogday chuckled, like he knew something you didn’t and, with a crooked eyebrow, you stared at him, trying to remember the mentioned moment better. 

Nowadays his fur was no longer the bright orange that it once was like the old cardboards and tv episodes showed, but at least it got a resemblance of a cleaned state after using some good-enough rags you found on the way to one of the generators. You both did the best to take out the debris, dust and blood from him. It took longer than it should because the taller toy kept squirming and wiggling around in an adorable inescapable fit of giggles, not really being a big help as, in between his laughter, he kept claiming that it really, really tickled. 

As a good friend, of course, you just grabbed the rag he let fall after a bit of lil cleaning on his poor ticklish tummy and racked both hands up and down his sides, scribbling away while he hid his smile behind hands, muffling his loud crackles. The cleaning didn’t stop there and hunted each tiny spot and slight hint of dust off him with plenty of scratches, prodding and drumming everywhere your hands could reach, catching all the titters, snickers and snorts that danced in the rhythm of your fingers. Your own giggles did not take much longer to follow them. 

Dogday’s paw continued to run in a light touch on your back and suddenly a bolt of electricity jolted you up when your mind connected the memory of his playful demisse to what he just said.

Your eyes widened and his expression opened into a smirk, sensing the very same moment you got to the conclusion that you were about to get absolutely and utterly destroyed with tickles.

You tried pushing him away, one hand twisting behind to catch his wrist as the other hand fought to snatch his free one, which kept flying away from yours in a game of mouse and cat. 

“Wait, angel!” He couldn’t help but laugh, especially as your movements got more and more uncoordinated the longer they kept this little game, even before he truly attempted to do anything. A wobbly smile was already taking over your face, only growing bigger when every swipe he did in your direction - only to be deflected by your hands - made your entire skin tingle and prickle in anticipation. Each adorable reaction only assisting in making Dogday more determined that he choose the right distraction. “Don’t you want to know about the game? I bet that you will love it! I used to play and win all the time so I can teach you every special trick of mine.”

No, no, no, no! You knew exactly what he was doing! There was no such thing as a game!

“Gasp!” You were sure that Dogday would be dramatically putting a hand on his chest if it wasn’t for the rough housing, but sudden noise was successful to break your concentration. He used his trapped hand to sneak a quick jab on your side, ripping out a delightful screech before you slammed your back again on the mattress, both hands now in front of you, no longer moving, yet still ready to defend and attack. “I would never lie to you, my beautiful, beautiful beacon of light, the only and one sunshine, my angel.”

He was not going to succeed in distracting you again with those sugary sweet nicknames! You knew exactly what he was doing and you wouldn’t let him get you.

“No, no, you got me wrong, angel.” Dogday booped your nose, seeming like he couldn’t control himself with excitement and a smug kind of joy that only grew the longer you both stared at each other, waiting for the moment to strike. His tail wagged and he pretended to lounge at your stomach, stopping inches before touching it and drinking the way that a squeal escaped from your mouth, body stuck into a position between laying down and curling on itself, giggles quickly filling the room. Actually, you could feel yourself getting giddier at each second, completely aware that there was no way for you to get out of this and no other option besides wait for the next attack.

The way that this thought only made butterflies go crazy on your belly should be illegal.

Dogday continued as if nothing happened. “This isn’t the game. The game only starts when I start to tickle you, silly! And it is called ‘Try To Not Laugh’.” He managed to waltz through your defenses, his index finger and thumb catching your side in a grip way too light to even be considered a pinch. It made you try to squirm with a snort to the other direction, as if he just had unleashed a ruthless attack of squeezes on the spot. 

His grin glimmered and he let you go, chuckling. You could feel the phantom touch still. 

(Why did his paws have to be so fuzzy!?) 

“It means that you can’t giggle, squeal, snicker, chuckle, snort, chortle, shriek or laugh! No matter how much it tickles, itches or ‘feels funny’.” Dogday counted each reaction pulling up a finger and you tried to not let your face melt as he just kept talking, looking more and more delighted with how each word seemed to make you twitch on the spot, his paws clawing in your direction when he was done. 

Before you could think, he went for your neck, fingertips barely, just the slightest bit, grazing the skin before you catched his wrists and pushed them away, scrunching your neck as tiny tickly sparks spread like fire across your nerves. A sound akin to a keysmash left your lips and Dogday looked like you had just given him the best news of his entire existence.

He tilted his head and watched his own captured paws for a piece of moment before shrugging. He continued on with his explanation.

“In turn I will try my true best to make you laugh. And that can mean anything! I can fill your entire cute neck with aaaaall the raspberries that it could ever want, wiggle my claws on your ticklish armpits, play your ribs like a very lovely piano, squeeze your sides non stop until you’re dancing around like a wiggly worm, maybe even give your tummy a few scratches and scribbles, or, or even better! I can play ‘This little piggy’ with your toes over and over again until your sweet laughter fills this entire room like the sweetest melody. And then we can do it all over but with you giggling and snickering ringing free the entire time! Doesn’t it sound like a fun idea, my angel?”

Oh, you were going to die. Whether he decided to tickle you right away or keep the teases for who knows how long, you don’t think that your face would survive being under so much heat for so long.

Besides, this is not fair at all! He will win it anyway, you couldn’t hold on your laughter forever while he t-, while he attacks you.

“Aww, but, sunshine, tickling is hardly an attack!” His face got closer and suddenly you realized that he did not need any free hand to accomplish his first promise of tickles. 

With wide eyes you tried to roll away, but to do so, you would have to let his paws go, and you knew very well that the moment this happened, it would be a game over for you. For the way that Dogday grinned in your direction, he reached the same conclusion as well. “Also, I can’t even touch you, right now! I think you can win this.” Dogday wiggled his paws in your hold, as if proving his point. 

With (an eager) trepidation, you watched as his face continued to get closer, prying a couple of titters when his floppy, fuzzy ears brushed your own ears. He chuckled at your reaction, a mix of fondness and playful, fake frustration painting his words. “Sunshine, you’re already giggling? I will have to take my last words back, then, I don’t think this game will last too long, anymore.” 

Oh ho ho, he should just wait, because when you get him back you then he was going to see who was-

Dogday shoved his face on the crook of your neck and immediately began nuzzling the spot without a worry in the world, successfully cutting your threat short.

Wait! Wait!

“Don’t mind me, angel, please continue.” He huffed and puffed on the spot, shivers running in a hilarious cacophony across your every sense, almost ripping a squeal from your lips. Actually, just like his words hitting the skin, you could feel the way that snickers began pooling in your throat, waiting for any tiny chance to escape. You clamped your mouth shut, a muffled snort taking over. You were going to at least try to hold them in and try your chances at winning this childish game, for your own pride, if nothing else. 

He didn’t have his paws to tickle, right? I mean, how bad could it really be?

Dogday hummed, each word vibrating on the skin in an almost unbearable manner, making you want to jump away and at the same time let yourself get lost in the sensations. “What were you saying, angel? Please, don’t stop because of me! You know I always love to hear what you have to say.”

You shook your head, partially in an attempt to somehow escape from the tickling and partially to dissipate the energy that was building up on your system. Anything to not focus on the snickers bouncing freely in your chest.

“No? Not a word? Aw.” You could feel the fake pout the sentient toy did right before letting his features go back to that dangerous, mischievous grin. “I have a question for you, then! Do you know what is the tickle puppy favorite’s fruit?”

You knew a trap when you saw one, so you kicked your legs, trying and failing to let out any protest because you were sure that if you stopped pressing your lips in a tight line for even half of a second, there would be no stopping from the waterfall of laughter.

“Raspberries!”

A shriek almost made you lose when he unleashed the first raspberry, more and more of them being quick to follow right after. On the base of your neck, your collarbone, under your chin and in every inch on the unprotected spot. There was nowhere safe from the awfully buzzing that made every other feeling disappear, seeing to tickle every nerve and making tingles to run crazy in absolutely everywhere. He even grazed the back of your ears with a couple of raspberries, cooing when you tried to shrink and hide the spot by pressing them on your shoulder, only succeeding to leave the other side of your neck completely free for more nuzzles and tickles, an opportunity that Dogday was fast to take, taking turns in bashing every side of your neck in a tickly attention. 

Another quiet, muffled squeak painted the air.

Dogday lifted his head again, entire demeanor completely melting for a piece of time when he saw you (oh my stars, look at this amazing smile!) before that joyful light was back in his eyes. Once more, he tried wiggling his paws out of your hold, but your grip continued to be as firm as ever, your wobbly smile shining in a challenge.

Oh, you’re just so fun!

“Gasp! It seems like I am stuck! Oh no, angel, what will I do now?” His gaze then traveled to your stomach, and all the hints that softness had ever been present in his features instantly evaporated as his face became something more playful, even a tad devilish, with a hint of hunger. 

“My, my,” you didn’t exactly know why, but his voicebox glitched, jumping between a light taunting tune and his usual lower one. “Is that a delicious tummy that I see? Poor thing, it must be so cold to be shaking like this. Well, and what kind of friend would I be if I didn’t offer any help, huh?”

Your friend was quite tall and kind of clumsy when he walked around, too. Now, how that clumsy toy was able to, in a span of less than a blink, take a gigantic breath and immediately attack your stomach with it was a true mystery that you didn’t had a lot of time to think about when your entire body took a screenshot for a long, long second, ticklish sensations exploding in a frenzy, before your entire torso instinctively beginning to trash, loud peals of laughter jumping freely on the tip of your tongue, begging to be free. They cheered in excitement and only grew stronger when other smaller raspberries took their turn to explore every spot, every sensitive creek or place of your stomach, breaking more and more of your barriers, little by little. It took every single ounce of strength to not lose the game right here and there.

Dogday didn’t even pretend to be holding back, anymore. Right as you survived another tiny raspberry that got way too close to your side to be an accident, a nibble appeared, catching you so out of guard that it made your arch your back, legs kicking with adrenaline. But the tickly, light nibbles weren’t diverted, intertwining with tiny raspberries in a mischievous dance that increased your internal laughing into a tenfold.

That was when one of them hit the spot closer to your bellybutton and you couldn’t take it anymore. Your hands let go of his wrists to push his stupid smiling - so proud and so bright - face away, body squirming and eyes crinkling on the corners with mirth.

“I am free!” He laughed, pretending to not hear the tiny low titters flying from your mouth as you regained your strength, taking the breather as what it was. His ears twitched with every cute little giggle and he kind of wanted to immediately go back to bash every sweet, soft spot in tickles you until that beautiful laughter was ringing loud and free across the entire room and that soft, relaxed state you were in became so much common that he wouldn’t see you stressed ever again.

But he was going to wait for you to rest a tadbit first, that was the main objective of their game, afterall.

Feeling calmer, you looked at your friend, who jolted in the same place, seeing to get out of a trance. He recovered quickly and lifted his paws, easily slipping into the tickle monster persona as he slowly clawed in your direction.

“Now that my hands are free, I wonder where I should attack next…” He looked thoughtful, slowly bringing his paws closer and closer to your torso, wiggly fingers softly scrapping the ticklish skin, but not really drumming on it, not yet. “Maybe I should try your armpits first? Aw, but you were so jumpy when I squeezed your side that one time! And you seemed really excited when I mentioned tickling your ribs… Ah! So many options, so many options… We will have to try every single one of them, of course. What do you think, my giggly angel? Which one do I tickle first?”   

None! Absolutely none of them!

“None?” He tilted his head, knowing very well how cute he looked like when he did that. “But then … Oh! I see!” Dogday snapped his fingers and you were pretty sure that if this was a cartoon a lamp would appear shining right above that absolute, silly, mean, goofball. “You want me to tickle your legs!” 

What!

At your wide stare and sputtering pretenses of protests his smirk turned sharp, which didn’t quite help the anticipatory bolts of electricity that suddenly left you feeling even more ticklish than usual, trying to curl and hide your legs but feeling him dig more on your torso every time you did so. He continued. “That is why you didn’t stop kicking and squirming the entire time I was tickling your neck and tummy, right? Aww, sunshine, if you wanted my attention so much, you could’ve just asked!”

That was literally not the reason at all! Dogday!!

He hummed in an answer, turning around and easily pinning your legs by holding your ankles down, his touch so gentle that you were pretty sure that if you really wanted and struggled you could escape from it.

(And if that didn’t make everything even more endearing, you honestly didn’t know what would.)

Without wasting any more time, Dogday started squeezing the sensitive spot right above your kneecap, skillfully jumping from one leg to another unexpectedly, digging on the skin and following your leg around with no problem as a new round of kicks started once again, keeping up with the tickling. The ticklish sensations made your head spin, tingles spreading across your muscles and teasing all the nearest tickle spots, leaving them prickling in anticipation and a funny kind of energy that made every nerve of your knees crazy as more and more squeezes and pinches continued unmercifully assaulting the spot non stop. 

A sudden move and you yelped when your legs were lifted, his curious hand worming its way under your knee to lightly scratch the sensitive skin there. The touch was so incredibly fuzzy, so adoringly soft that the sudden change from the rough to light technique almost ripped a series of snickers from your throat without permission, the hilarity and urge to laugh taking over your every thought. 

Dogday continued scribbling and drawing shapes, leaving a couple of pokes here and there just so he could listen to those delightful muffled snorts.

(He would really love to listen to them more clearly, though.) 

“You really love this, don’t you, angel?” 

You barely sputtered out an answer before being obligated to clamp your mouth shut, uncontrollable laughter making your shoulders bounce as he took the chance to crawl his fingers upwards to your thigh, skittering them there for a couple of seconds before spidering them right back to under your knees, repeating the cycle for a couple of times before mirroring them on the other leg. 

“When I tickle you.” He scratched under your knee. 

“When I tease you.” He squeezed your calf.

“When I fluster you.” He swiped at the space right under your toes.

“It’s really adorable!” His paw stopped right on your sole and he pressed it, firmly enough that it didn’t tickle, still, for some reason you couldn’t stop your smile from becoming even more wobblier, the giddiness growing stronger and spreading in your every cell just like the heat that seemed to take over your face. 

“Especially because I can’t wait to hear aaaaall those cute giggles and beautiful laughter that you have trapped right there.” Suddenly, he raked his fingers up, from your heel to under the toes. A squeal filled the air. Dogday’s eyes shone, like an arrow findings the target. His fingertips curled, kneading on the skin. “That is why I have to apologize, angel, because I lied to you. That is a game that I just have to win.”

He then attacked.

It was less than a half of a piece of time, but suddenly your soles were being overcomed with scribbles, scratches and wiggling everywhere they could reach. There were digging fingers under your toes and a spidering that followed them to the pads, tweaking and scritching them all while curious pokes payed attention to the entire path of your arches, even if shouldn’t be possible for him to be tickling both places at the same time. Nevertheless, Dogday’s paw was so big that he was able to torment both of your feet at once while still holding them through all the resulting kicks those created.

And the teasing… Of course there was also the teasing.

“There we go! Oh my, oh my, look at you! You just can’t help being so adorable, now, can you? Awww, angel, you always get this… sweet expression when you are happy, so I like to call it your happy face! It’s delightful. The corner of your eyes gets all crinkly and your face gets all soft and your smile… your smile is the best part, it’s so bright! No matter the size or the time, it really feels like we have our own special rays of sun down here.”

He found a rather sensitive spot right above your heel and immediately concentrated on it with all his might, drumming and prodding there as if the salvation of this entire factory depended on making you laugh.

“That is why it was so easy to see how much you love tickles, sunshine. First when you were tickling me a few days ago and now. Since we started that game… you didn’t even ask me to stop and all while you simply never ceased looking so adorably full of joy like this! I could really spend the entire day just here, you know? Tickling you silly over and over again.”

That did it. The barrier broke. Loud peals of laughter were fished from your lips. Every sound and reaction filled the air in a frantic, unrestrained melody of mirth. 

Now, with them flying freely in the room, there were uncontrollable, hysterical giggles when Dogday decided to knead your calves up and down, those only being taken down by an unstoppable crackling, painted with one or two snorts, as his paws wiggled away to squeeze right above your kneecaps, taking his sweet, sweet time to give the ticklish skin under it a few swipes before moving away.

Finally, he let your ankles go, both paws resting on your sides, unbothered by all the squirming and protests that this simple act created, drinking in every reaction with a so fond, so tender gaze that it bordered on dotingly as you got another break.

You tried to take big gulps of air, but everytime your gazes found each other, titters grew anew, distracting you and leaving you in a constant state of a silly, giggly kind of joy.

M-Maybe he should reconsider! You laughed already, he won the game! That should be the end of this, right!

Dogday chuckled, fingers tuttering in their spot, curling and uncurling slowly, content to feel the trembling on the skin under them. 

“The end? But we just started! And you still got so much beautiful laughter trapped right here to show.” With his index finger, he highlighted his word by tapping on your belly, right in your bellybutton, ears perking at the screech this brought. “So many cute snorts and melodious shrieks that I would love to meet. What kind of friend would I be if I didn’t help to let them out, huh?”

A flow of words, more unintelligible than anything, fell off your lips. A mix of pleas,  threats, high pitched giggles and some indistinguishable sounds that could only be considered a true keysmash rather than a sentence. Dogday hummed in agreement and nodded his head as if it was all a well constructed and understandable sentence.

“I knew you would eventually see my point, angel. You’re such a delight, you know, that?”

He smiled, so kindly and caring, and then he digged.

His paws, big enough to cover your entire midriff drummed non stop, squeezing the lower part of your stomach while scratching everywhere they could reach. He stayed there for a while before his wiggling fingers crawled up, scribbling and pinching your sides unmercifully. They looked for any weak spot, any lovely place that would make you snort and squirm away and latched there with pinches and kneading until your back arched, only then moving back to tickle your stomach until you went back to try to curl yourself in a ball, starting the cycle over and over again. 

You felt almost high with laughter, the thought that it tickled, it tickled so so much and more than anything ever taking over your brain in sync with the loud, high pitched squeals and belly laughter (ha- Dogday would love that pun if you could say it to him) that chased after each other. After so much teasing, every tickle seemed to be accompanied by the brush of thousand of tiny phantom feathers that still tormented your stomach even when he moved away to your ribs, carefully pressing down on the bones and quickly scribbling with so much skill that it should be illegal the actual, loud crackle such a simple action created.

Your hands flied to hold his wrists, caught between pushing them away and pulling them close and, at seeing that, the sentient toy couldn’t help but feel himself melt and snicker fondly, barely controlling the urge to shove his face back on your neck and nuzzle and nibble the daylights out of it in a pure attack of cuteness. His tail was wagging so much that it dislodged a few pillows from where they were.

“Such a good friend. Such a cute, nice friend for me. For us.” The praises fell from his mouth naturally, your companionship too focused on keeping those happy reactions to really think too much about them. “You do so much to all of us, to me, and keep going above and beyond just to accomplish what you set your mind in. You’re brave and one of the strongest humans I’ve ever known. And there is so much kindness in you that I could talk the entire day about it! You saved me, you cared and tried and sometimes down here it feels like a nightmare but you… you make everything so much better, like a true angel. That is why I love this nickname so much. It really fits you.” 

You tried to answer, to say how much especial, strong and essential Dogday was for you as well, but every time a single coherent word slipped from your lips he immediately reinforced his attack, fully aware that if you said anything sweet he would inevitably let his guard down and you would be able to turn the tables, and he really needed to say all of that to you before that. 

His tickles were now focusing on keeping up the flow of starry laughter, watching them grow up to chortles and tune down into snickers as he scribbled in between each bone, keeping track of every special spot that pried a shriek from your lungs only to randomly attack it with prodding and poking, slowly fishing all kinds of joyful sounds that you could make.

He then buried his paws in your armpits, swirling the fingertips there for a few moments before digging energetically, fingers dancing and prodding every inch they could reach, which immediately made your arms come down with a loud chortle, head shaking and legs kicking at the sensation.

How was he so good at this?

Dogday gasped dramatically (not again-) and lightly pulled his paws in faux alarm, not really stopping his attack. “Oh no! Once more, you have trapped me!” Such a goofball. Such a silly, mean goofball and you could not wait to put your wiggly hands on and see how flustered you could make him be. “Dang, I really didn’t want to resort to this but I guess that I have no other option but to keep tickling and tickling and tickling on your poor ticklish pits forever and ever until the end of our days.” He then winked when he found your shining eyes. “But you would actually love that, wouldn’t you, my giggly sunshine?”

That was it. You were going to die. Right here and there. The playful tickles, the unrelenting teasing, the fond stares and gentle words… you could actually feel your entire body about to melt.

With a strength you didn’t even realize you had, you pulled your arms up to hide your flaming face, a pitched ‘eee’ sound mixing with the hysterical, absolutely uncontrollable laughter, your body rolling to the side and curling, shoulders bouncing with the force of each of your giggles.

Dogday let go of you, giggling together with your reactions, resting his hands on the ground and just observing, amusement and care clear as water in every trace of his features.

After a while, you felt a paw lay on your back, retracting for a bit when just that made you wiggle away, a new round of chuckles spilling, before it came back to rub your shoulders, touch kind and too firm to tickle. “Okay, okay, sunshine. I’m done. You can calm down for now.”

Laying down on the floor giggling yourself silly didn’t feel so embarrassing when Dogday’s own quiet snorts and snickers were quick to accompany you, especially since the rubbing really felt relaxing, making you melt on the touch bit by bit. 

After a few minutes, when a comfortable silence had fallen on you both, you rolled on your back, finally being able to stare at your companionship without feeling like you would explode. Dogday smiled bigger at your direction. He lifted a paw to gently wipe a tear from your cheek, not thinking too much about it.

“That was so fun! I didn’t know you were so ticklish, angel. You are almost as bad as m-” He stopped right in his tracks when a gasp and a new string of titters fell like a waterfall from your mouth and you pushed his paw away, fastly rubbing your cheek so the feeling of fuzzy tickles would go away. It was like the softest makeup brush had just touched your skin, and you had no idea that just this could tickle so much.

Dohohogday! You sahaid you werehe done! 

But your companionship didn’t answer. Astonished, he stared at his paw before looking at you again, gaze jumping from one to the other like he was watching a tennis match.

Suddenly his entire face brightened like the sun and he looked at you as if you had just said the funniest, most brilliant pun he had ever heard in his entire life.

“Aaaangel!” Every letter was bathed in pure, disbelieved delight.

No! You knew very well what that tune meant! No way! Nononono! Don’t you dare!

“Are your cheeks…”

Dohohogday! Don’t you come closer!

“Ticklish?”

Before you could push yourself from the mattress and jump away, there were two thumbs softly scratching on your cheeks, scribbling so lightly that it immediately made a giant smile take over your expression. Titters started to fill the air once more.

“Oh my… angel! This is adorable!” Dogday looked like he was about to bounce around the room with how much excited he was, his voice getting higher and glitching in excitement. “I can’t believe how fun and cute… You just… Ah, sunshine, I can’t help but!”

And before you could even blink, he shoved his smiley, stupidly fuzzy face right on your neck again, nuzzling there without a single worry in the world. His fingers kept  tickling your cheeks, sometimes even slipping to tease the back of your ears with a few scratches as he giggled in joy since he could literally feel the rumbling of your snickers. They twirled and spun in the air for much minutes more until his tickly attack from cuteness overload was finally finished and you both just kept layed down on the comfy pile, cuddling in between content sighs.

Dogday listened to your calm breath, saw how relaxed your entire body was and, according to the few sneaky peaks he had, saw that happy, full of mirth, smile was still in your face, leaving him melting in contentment, entire body relaxing as well. 

Perfect. His plan had worked.

Not that it was that big of a deal, but it had been such a long time since he had the opportunity to…

He was just glad that it worked. That he still got it in him. 

(Being playful. Happy. Helping the others. Being there when they needed him. Matter when it was necessary. Being silly and fun)

He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn’t sense the hand coming until it laid on his head, playing with the fur there and scratching on that place right behind his left ear that never failed to make him embarrassingly become a mush of pleased hums and wagging tail. A low, sleepy voice crossed the air.

You said you would take him out of here. It’s a promise, Dogday.

How his angel knew exactly what to say was a mystery to him. And, it didn’t quite hurt, but his entire being ached at those words. His smile was sad and he was glad that the human couldn’t see as he blinked quickly, eyes suddenly moisty. “Alright.”

There would still be some revenge when you woke up, though. Be ready.

And that reminded him so much of others playful, sleepy conversations he had before everything happened that it ripped a surprised laugh from him. He tried to look up to see the very much likely mischievous glint in his friend’s eyes, but a few more purposeful scratches turned him right back to a content puddle. He nuzzled the human a bit more. “Sleep well, angel.”

You too, Dogday.

(And sleep well they did. Lost in a peaceful rest as the entire world outside left them be.)

[~*~]

Random fun facts!

-There is a parallel I made by mistake between CatNap and DogDay and the whole 'trusting and following the being that saved your life'. It's not too deep and Dogday isn't as bad as Catnap but that was an interesting thing I noticed :D

-Different from the reader, Dogday is more used to the time down there so he has a good grasp when day and nights happens in general.

-I am actively ignoring the plotholes here about food and water here. Ya know when you have to poke holes in a lid so the bugs in the container can breathe that is what I doing kjhgfdfghyhgfd

-Nothing to do with the fanfic but I kept listening to this song when I was writing it and I think it's cute.

[rizaposting]

"You've been burning bridges, while I've been building homes"

working on a larger post-03!royai project so I've been thinking of their specific brand of angst a lot. How do you stop someone from self-sabotaging every good thing in their life?

[andy-clutterbuck]

4x11 | Claimed

[blindmagdalena]

I had a really fluffy homie thought; basically cuddling on the couch under a fluffy throw blanket and watching cartoons like Rick and Morty or Bob’s Burgers. It’s probably totally ooc for HL but the holidays are always a little rough for me and this made me feel all fluffy and warm 😂

Homelander really doesn't care what goes on the TV. That's not why he pushes you down onto the couch or why he's nuzzling into the crook of your neck, snaking his arms around your waist.

The TV being on is more incidental than anything else; maybe it's for you, something to keep you distracted and still while he indulges in being more vulnerable than he usually cares to show.

Either way, he never pays much attention to it.

He's far more focused on the slightly alien feel of his bare fingers brushing the nape of your neck. He normally keeps himself so removed from the world, sensation muffled by the soft leather of his gloves.

He doesn't need the suit here. He doesn't need the world to be deafened or muted. With you, he can be raw. Exposed. Content.

This way, he can clearly feel the beat of your heart against his chest without thick padding dampening it. He wonders if you can feel the steady, strong thump of his. He listens to your lungs fill and empty, the breath from your lips ghosting over his temple and rolling goosebumps down his spine.

He can feel your mortality in every bit of you. Your whole existence can be broken down into such simple, primitive mechanisms, and yet the sum of you is something magic.

There is no frailty in the way you hold him, no uncertainty. You don't hesitate. You love him. More than that, you make it seem so easy. He can't understand why so many have failed to give what you have in spades.

He's not cold, but it's sweet that you pull the throw blanket off the back of the couch and drape it over your entangled bodies. Your fingertips brush his jaw as you tuck it in around his neck. He smiles against the skin just below your ear and kisses it appreciatively.

You card your fingers through his hair, gently separating any gelled pieces that might tug. You don't have to, but it's sweet that you do.

It's sweet that you touch him like you could break him.

It's a difficult pill to swallow that in reality, you could. You could break him apart with the wrong words, the wrong look, the wrong rush of adrenaline. He would fall apart and tear the world down with him if you ever turned on him.

His grip tightens just enough to hitch the flow of your breaths.

"You okay?" You ask, hand pausing to cup the back of his head.

There it is. Your frailty. It would take so little to break your spine, and yet the echoes of that crack would haunt him for the rest of his life. The circle of your arms is a glass house, a precarious invitation for tragedy.

Sickening that the thought of tragedy still frightens him when it's all he's ever known. That fear sits inside him like an ugly, festering wound. The rot of it spills into all aspects of him—paranoia, anger, possessiveness, he feels it all with such burning fervor.

It's easier to simply call it love.

"Yeah," he says eventually, lifting his head to meet your gaze. You look concerned, so he kisses you. "M'great," he insists, shaping the words against your lips. "You make everything... great." He feels you smile at that.

"If you're sure," you say, pushing both hands through his hair. He can only imagine the shape of it after all the toying you've done with it. "You're squeezing awfully tight."

"Sorry," he says, not sounding very sorry. He won't tell you that he was testing the give of your body, sensing with his arms exactly what it would take for you to break apart within them. Not when he's so devastatingly content.

You brush his cheek with your knuckles. "It's okay. I don't mind."

"I might squeeze too tight," he says, leaning into your touch.

"You won't," you assure him.

"I have before," he counters.

You pause a moment. "You know better now."

"Sometimes." He says it like a confession. A dirty little secret for your ears alone that sometimes—only sometimes—he's not entirely sure he's doing the right thing.

The two of you sit in a poignant silence, the television paused on one of those Are you still watching? prompts.

"I'll tell you when it's too tight," you say, tipping his head back to meet your gaze. "And you'll listen to me."

He stares at you for awhile, gaze flitting slightly as he takes in the somber look of you. You've never been afraid of speaking up. Not even against him. He believes you.

And you'll listen to me.

An assertion he would balk at from anyone else. Instead, in your voice, from your soft lips, the thought soothes him.

"Yeah," he says, flexing his grip slightly. "Okay."

"Good. You can squeeze a little tighter," you say, settling your head back down against the couch.

He does. He closes his grip ever so slightly and buries his face into the crook of your neck, taking in a deep breath. A little tighter, and you squeeze his shoulder in warning. He lets out a breath and relaxes his hold on you with it, practically melting against you.

The two of you stay like that for a while, each of you testing the feel of the other. The slow tap of warm fingertips and freely exploring hands mapping out a lifetime of potential in the others body. He's gentle out of necessity, and you're gentle out of understanding.

Homelander hits play on the remote before he settles back down. He still doesn't care for watching, but it's a means of telling you without telling you that he's not ready for this moment to end.

Blessedly, you slip your fingers back into his hair, accepting the gesture for what it is.

[puppetmaster13u]

Who wants a WIP

Someone meets lil baby Dick Grayson for the first time

🦇🐤🦇🐤🦇🐤🦇🐤🦇🐤🦇🐤🦇🐤🦇🐤🦇🐤🦇🐤🦇🐤

   “Since when did you have a kid?!” He doesn’t think he’s ever seen Gordon so shocked, which is surprising. 

   He blinked, glancing down to where Dick was scribbling in his notebook with a matching robe on before looking back up at the older man. How long has it been…? Oh. “Since six months ago…?” he trailed off at the strangled noise the commissioner made. 

   “Did… I can’t believe I’m going to ask this,” Gordon whispered. “Did you steal a child Bruce?” 

   He blinked again, confused. Did he? No, he was going to go with no. “No?” Honestly he might have more confusion in his voice than the other did. What was so surprising- Oh! 

   “I have a foster license,” he informed his… friend? Ally? Ally worked. He informed his ally. “But we’re waiting for the adoption to go through.” Technically he could pay to speed it up but that would also risk media coverage which he didn’t want, nor did Dick need it. Reporters were like vultures, he swore. 

   Well, actually, at least vultures were an important part of their ecosystem so there was that. 

   Gordon breathed a quiet curse, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Okay, alright, sure, you’ve had a kid for six months and somehow no one has found out, alright.” Well it wasn’t like he liked going out into public so that had honestly probably helped. 

   “You couldn’t have,” the red-haired man made some sort of motion with his hands. “I don’t know, warned me ahead of time before someone broke into your house? What if someone had taken the kid?!” 

   Bruce frowned, nose scrunching up at his own distaste at the thought. “I wouldn’t let them,” he informed Gordon seriously. 

   “How, Bruce? You can’t fight and would get hurt yourself, then what?” Well he could fight, even if people didn’t realize that with how passive he acted in public. “How did you even get a child, you’re never even out?”

   “A big bat-thing dropped me off!” Dick was the one to cheerfully answer, causing another officer to choke while Gordon looked close to having a stroke, looking between the two of them. 

[willowser]

no bc that dragon-king baku snip has me THINKING THONKSSSSSSJJSJSS that was so perfect and cute and omfg just imagining this massive man sighing in relief when we presses his face into your neck because he finally gets to FEEL how warm you are and is just cherishing being able to hold you finally and then he’s pulling back to look into your eyes and he thinks you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen and AHHHHHHHWHJZSJS dragon king baku is UNDERRATED

aw aw !! changing into his lil man form, with significantly less scales is a little — colder ??? so when he gets to press against your skin and can feel how hot your blood is and it's so ajrjwirhqm he's comfy. and he's probably never really registered your touch !! just felt the pressure of your hands, maybe, but has never felt them like this !!! all new experiences for him 🥺 i also think he has a nasty lil habit of wanting to nip at your cheeks !! just bites !! 🥺 and seeing you as a man and not this huge dragon is — different 🥺 so much closer to your size, with hands that can fit in yours — and he thinks that you are just the prettiest little gem he's ever had 🥺

[onceuponapuffin]

Fanatic Intervention Part 7!!!

Beginning|| Previous || Next

It will not surprise you at all, dear Reader, to learn that Aziraphale keeps very little in his kitchen cupboards. There is no stove or oven, and the only thing in the fridge is milk (for his tea no doubt). When you start opening cupboards, you find one pack of custard creams, and a second one of chocolate digestives. Well, it will have to do. You find yourself a small plate and fill it half and half before heading back into the shop just in time to say goodbye to Anathema and Newt.

As they leave, you turn to the supernatural entities in the room.

“So,” You say, “If we’re going to the States, then we have a few problems. First, I don’t have my passport or any ID at all, so airport security is going to be fun. Second, I have no money. Third, I’m gonna need a Walmart or something because I don’t even have a toothbrush, my dudes. Fourth, these,” You indicate the cookies, “are fine for a snack, but overall they’re not gonna cut it.”

“You just leave the airport security to us,” Aziraphale replies. You make a note that he glided right past ‘my dudes,’ they’re getting used to you already. Dammit. “As for the rest of it,” Aziraphale continues, “I suppose a trip to Tesco’s is in order.”

Crowley produces a shiny black credit card from nowhere and hands it to you. “We’ll take the Bentley,” he says. He starts to stand, but you shake your head.

“Nuh-uh, you both stay here,” You say. Crowley raises his eyebrow.

“You realize we can take care of ourselves,” he says, “We’ve been doing it for a few millennia.”

“I’m not talking about that,” You say, “Look, what we’re going into is really dangerous. And I know that your pattern is to just wait to talk about things until you’re in the clear, but that’s not a good idea anymore. I mean, I get that I’m not exactly an expert, but I read just as much as you do and I’ve heard a million stories by this point in my life, and in NONE of them do people ever say ‘I’m so glad I never told them how I feel’ - you know? It’s always ‘I wish I would have’ or ‘I should have told them every day.’ So Muriel and I will go ask Maggie to take us to Tesco, and you two need to talk. Please. While it’s safe, while you have the chance, before things get dangerous and possibly deadly.”

Crowley and Aziraphale are silent. You notice that they aren’t looking at each other. Well, you’ve done your best. Now you need to trust them.

At this point, dear Reader, you are probably thinking to yourself ‘well I would snoop and spy on them while they talk! I want to watch them make out!’ But here is the thing – in this world they are real people, not characters. It’s one thing to say that you would creep on them from the other side of this fiction, but when they’re very real and looking at you in person, things are a little different. For one thing, you realize that real people deserve things like boundaries and privacy, especially for sensitive conversations.

And so, you take Muriel over to Maggie’s shop, where you explain that Mr. Fell has sent the two of you on an errand and you need to stop for dinner somewhere and have no idea where anything is. You flash her the credit card and say ‘It’s all on me,’ and she conveniently agrees with a look on her face that says something like ‘least they could do after all that shit they put us through.’

So the three of you go for dinner at the nearest Weatherspoons, where you and Maggie eat while Muriel watches in morbid fascination. Then you all take the bus to Tesco where you buy yourself a small wardrobe, and manage to coax Muriel into some light blue jeans and an argyle jumper so they look a little less like the Beacon of Gondor. You quickly find out that Muriel has an adorable fascination with fuzzy socks, novelty mugs, and coloured pencils. Of course, you enable their fascinations with a happy heart, and as an afterthought, you grab them a small pot of orange daisies from the flower section. It will give them something alive to tend to while you’re gone. Muriel appreciates the thought. All in all, it’s a long but good time.

You don’t know about the talk, and you’re worried about asking when you get back.

THAT BEING SAID

You and I, dear Reader, not actually being in that world, are allowed certain privileges.

The bookshop is silent for a long time. Both of them are thinking, digesting, processing. Feelings are hard to feel, and harder to put into words. Especially when it has been made clear, twice now in the span of a number of hours, that you absolutely need to put them into words.

It isn’t until after Crowley notices you, Muriel, and Maggie heading down the street that he stands up and begins to pace. A few more minutes pass before he speaks.

“So...uhm...are you going to go first or should I?”

“Are we...are we actually going to do this? Have this talk I mean?” Aziraphale has been shelving books to try and take the edge off. Now he puts down the book in his hands and absent-mindedly fidgets with his ring.

“Well, I mean we don’t have to,” Crowley says, aiming for non-chalance and missing ever-so-slightly, “No one can actually make us.”

“Yes, except it feels very much like everyone is trying to.”

“Trying is the key word there.”

“That’s true enough I suppose.”

The silence returns and stretches. It is anything but comfortable. The air is full of words that they have been told they should say, words that perhaps they want to say, but words that have been dammed up with fear and uncertainty for so long now that they’ve become very hard to un-stick. After a while, Aziraphale clears his throat and speaks.

“I, erm, I suppose you had better go first.”

“Me, right, okay.” Crowley clears his throat now and stops his pacing near the desk. He looks down at the scattered papers and books, the pens and photos and newspaper clippings. The assorted clutter of Aziraphale’s life. Looking away makes it easier to start. He takes a breath. “Um..right...well...we’ve known each other a long time. We’ve been on this planet a long time – you and me, I mean. I’ve always been able to rely on you, and you’ve always relied on me,” another breath, “We’re a team, yeah? A group of the two of us. And...erm...we pretend that we aren’t. Always have. Safer that way I guess.” He looks up at Aziraphale. The angel isn’t looking at him, but he nods anyway to show that he’s listening. Crowley continues. “And I mean...I’ve tried not to think about it much before but...but it would be nice, I mean, UGH” He takes off his sunglasses and rubs a hand over his eyes as though he can massage the words and make them easier to say. “I mean, I would like to spend...mmm….I would like to spend the rest not pretending anymore. Be an us. I mean,” suddenly the dam breaks, and Crowley finds the words come tumbling out, “If Gabriel and Beelzebub can do it, we can. We don’t need Heaven or Hell, they’re both toxic. We can be an us, on our side. You and me. What do you say?” He looks at Aziraphale without reservation now. His angel looks back at him, eyes wide. When he does speak, it’s with a smile and a small nod of acknowledgment rather than agreement.

“That was very well done Crowley,” he says. This isn’t an answer.

“Nnyeah, thanks. Your turn though.”

“Right, I suppose it is.” Aziraphale takes a moment to gather himself. After hearing Crowley be so open about this, he feels more resolved himself to do this properly. He faces Crowley and folds his hands to keep himself grounded. “Crowley,” he begins, “I...I wish that this conversation were happening under better circumstances. Although it’s been pointed out that ideal circumstances aren’t a promise that we can wait around for. Well, the thing is that I would like the same thing. Very much in fact. My biggest concern by far is for your safety because, well, frankly I don’t see the point in saving the world again if you’re not around to enjoy it with me. An us, as you said. You and me.” He smiles. Crowley smiles.

“Guess we’d better save the world together then. And try not to die.”

“Yes, quite.”

“Aziraphale?”

“Yes, Crowley?”

“You’re my angel. No one else.”

“And you, my wiley serpent. No one else.”

The shop bell dings.

“We’re baaaaaack!” You sing as you waltz through the door, shopping bags in hand. Muriel follows after you, carefully carrying their daisies. “Did you miss us?”

When you eventually get the courage to ask them about their talk later, you get a “ngk” from Crowley, and a “We’ve said all that needs to be said, for now.” from Aziraphale. And that, you suppose, will have to do.

❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ 🖤

[sunshinereddie]

every day i think about what it would have been like if richie and eddie had been the ones to meet outside the restaurant instead. like eddie is just standing there, building up the courage to go inside, a big part of him is still contemplating turning right back around and going home, when a voice from behind him speaks up, “hey, man, you know you can just go in, right? you don’t have to wait for someone to check your ID and let you through, you know?”

eddie frowns, turning around quickly to tell this random guy to shut up…. when his eyes land on a familiar face.

“richie?”

richie’s smug grin quickly disappears. “eds,” he says, almost sounding out of breath, and upon hearing that nickname, eddie feels something rush through him that he hasn’t felt in a long time.

[starrylevi]

Going to the beach with Levi 🏝️💦🥰

(This was just supposed to be a simple headcanon but my brain would not rest until all of this was written)

You know the beach isn’t exactly Levi’s favorite place. The water’s usually cold, the sand can be especially messy, and beaches tend to be extremely crowded. However, it’s summer time and of course Levi knew at some point you would want to go. So he rents a car, loads up the lounge chairs and umbrellas you both ordered, along with a cooler. Levi’s a planner so he made sure to think of everything. Once you get to the beach, both of you set everything up. Levi puts sunscreen on himself before he applies it onto you, mumbling “The UV rays will kill you…”

You take endless pictures of Levi, capturing his toned body, his black swim trunks hanging loosely around his hips while wearing the black ray bans you bought him.

Levi tells you he’s not going into the water which earns him a frown from you. You show him the waterproof case you brought specifically for taking pictures while in the water. “You don’t really trust that thing, do you?” He asks incredulously. He’ll roll his eyes at you as you double down, assuring him your phone will be safe.

You practically have to drag him to get him into the ocean, tugging on his hand as he reluctantly follows you into the water.

“Oh my god, it’s cold.” You laugh, letting go of his hand to wrap your arms around yourself.

“What, it isn’t as great as you thought it would be?” You hear Levi tease behind you, chuckling at your discomfort of the temperature of the water. You quickly forget about the freezing water and turn around, splashing water towards him. The water hits its mark, droplets appearing on his hair, face, and body. He isn’t expecting that so it takes him a second to recover. He doesn’t move, his eyes narrow at you once he’s able to blink the water out of them. “I’m going to give you till the count of 3, Y/N.” He says calmly, wearing an almost imperceptible smirk.

“No, I’m sorry!” You yell out, laughter still in your voice as you back away from him, knowing he’s not going to let you get away with this.

“One.”

“Shit…” You giggle as you attempt to put some distance between you two. It’s difficult because of the waves that keep threatening to bring you back to him.

“Two.” His smirk is more noticeable now, and his eyes have a playful glint in them.

You keep backing away, fighting against the waves as you watch Levi.

“Three.”

You don’t know why you even tried outrun the man, especially in water. Levi catches up to you in seconds, one of his slender arms seizes you by the waist, yanking you back to him so you’re both chest to chest. While still holding you to his chest, he scoops you up, the other arm going under the back of your knees so that he’s carrying you bridal style.

You shriek loudly while closing your eyes. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry!”

You hear Levi’s low chuckle but you also feel it, the vibrations of the wonderful sound present in his chest. “Open your eyes, brat.”

You oblige, opening one eye cautiously before also opening the other. Levi’s smirking down at you in his arms and you can’t help but admire him for a moment. Strands of wet black hair stick to his forehead as he looks at you. With the sun hitting him directly his eyes shine a brilliant blue, almost matching the clear sky. Beads of water grace his porcelain skin, running down his face, neck, and chest. “You’re so pretty.” You say without thinking.

Levi playfully rolls his eyes, the smirk still on his face. “Flattery will get you nowhere in this situation.”

“Damn.”

“Yeah.” He pretend pouts before he brings you closer to him, leaning his own head down so he can give you a soft kiss. “Hold your nose.” He murmurs as he pulls away from your lips. You almost don’t register what he’s saying until you see his smirk get wider. Your own eyes widen and you quickly hold your nose before Levi plunges you into the cold water, releasing you from his hold. You’re not under for long before you feel Levi’s arms pulling you back up to the surface.

You take a deep breath once you’re not underwater anywhere. “Thank you for that.” You say with a chuckle as you slick back your wet hair.

Levi responds with a chuckle of his own before pulling you to him for another kiss, feeling his smile as he places his lips against yours. You live for these moments with Levi, the ones in which you both, especially Levi, forget all about your responsibilities and just have fun.

“Ooo, can I get on your back?” You ask excitedly as you gently pull away.

“What for?”

“So you can carry me around.” You say with a smile. “It’ll be fun!”

“Get on, brat.” He orders as he turns his back to you, crouching down a little so it’s easier for you to get on. You use his shoulders for support as you mount, wrapping your arms around neck while you wrap your legs around his waist. You feel him as he hooks his arms under your legs to keep you secure.

You remember the lanyard around your own neck, that’s attached to the waterproof phone case. You use this opportunity to pull it out and take a selfie of you and Levi.

“Really?” You hear Levi ask as you hold out the phone in front of both of you, angling it up to get a better picture.

“Yes, really.” You answer before putting on a smile and snapping a photo of the both of you, noting Levi’s resting bitch face. “If you could smile in the next one that would be great!”

You’re the one person that Levi will let take pictures of him. 99% of the pictures you take involving him live in your phone, never to be seen by anyone else. They are for your eyes only. The other 1% you share on social media, but only if he’s okay with it. You respect Levi’s privacy.

You see Levi roll his eyes through the camera and you chuckle, capturing the moment. “Smile, Levi.” You say before taking another picture. He offers you a hint of a smile, which is good enough for you. The last picture you take is of you capturing Levi off guard by quickly kissing his cheek. It’s probably your favorite as you see a hint of blush in Levi’s cheeks. “Okay, we’re done!”

“Thank God.”

You chuckle as you return your arm around Levi’s neck, securing yourself against him. You both float around like this for about twenty minutes, making conversation about mermaids and sirens (Levi doesn’t think they’re real but you don’t waver on your stance that they are) Erwin’s barbecue that you’re both supposed to attend the next day (“He better not burn the meat.” Levi says with a huff) and other random things (“I wonder what birds think about all day“ “They just eat, shit, and piss”).

After, you both get out of the water. Levi reaches his lounge chair and lies down on it. Once you see him comfortably lying down, you get the idea to lie down with him. “Don’t have your own chair?” Levi jokes as he spreads his legs, making space you can lie in between them. You’re snug as a bug in the chair with him, your head lying on his chest and his arms loosely wrapped around you his fingers gently trace circles on your back. It’s incredibly soothing and you end up falling asleep for about half an hour. You only wake up because you feel light taps on your shoulder and soft kisses to your forehead.

“Hm?” You lift your head up lazily, nose scrunched as you look up at Levi.

“Hungry?”

You give him a little nod and you see him reach for something on the side before bringing back a sandwich. He pulls it out of the ziplock bag and holds it up to your mouth, gesturing for you to take a bite. You take a bite, savoring the taste. “Thank you.” He feeds you the rest of the sandwich before offering you a bottle of water to wash it down.

You decide to take a few more photos while still resting on Levi’s chest. You’re being silly in most of the photos while Levi’s in the background with his sunglasses on, wearing his usual stoic expression. You do get a few shots in which he’s chuckling, looking absolutely gorgeous. You also manage to get him to put him up a peace sign in one of the pictures.

What really surprises you is while you’re taking a short video of the beach. You capture the beautiful scenery before turning the video back on you and Levi, at which moment he gently grabs your chin between his fingers and slowly leads your lips to his, pulling you into a sensual kiss. You almost feel dizzy when he pulls back just an inch. “Did you get that on video?” He asks with a hint of a smile.

“I…uh, some of it, I think.” You reply, trying not to fumble your words.

“That’s only for you and me, hm?”

You nod. “Yeah, yeah…of course. That wasn’t even a thought in my brain.” You reply with a bashful smile, really happy that he let you capture that intimate moment on camera. There’s no need to share it with anyone else.

“Thank you.” You say shyly with a giggle, not even fully understanding why you’re thanking him. The man turns you to absolute mush. Levi chuckles along with you. You don’t see the shine in his eyes behind his glasses but it’s there.

You need to have beach days with Levi more often.

[the-cookie-of-doom]

Childhood friends to lovers AU

I’m thinking a situation similar to Princess and the Frog; Nampheung worked for the Theerapanyakuls, so her sons naturally grew up alongside theirs. They aren’t there all the time, but occasionally, when Pat can’t watch them for whatever reason, they come alone with her. Mrs. T doesn’t mind the company, and Korn is busy working, it can be their little secret.

This has more of an impact on Porchay; Porsche is older than him, so depending on when this takes place, he could be in school a lot of the time, while Porchay is brought along with his mother. She’s paid well, but not well enough to support a full-time nanny for her youngest, and she doesn’t want a stranger raising him, anyway.

Nampheung starts as just a maid. Her and Mrs. T become friends, of course, are maybe even pregnant at the same time with Porsche and Kinn. They support each other through the pregnancies, and joke about how rambunctious the boys are, how much trouble they’ll get up to when they’re born. Then Mrs. T has Kim a few years later, and Nampheung has Porchay a few years after that. (Maybe she was hired to help Mrs. T take care of the house while she was pregnant with Tankhun? And then just. Never ended her contract.)

So the boys grow up together. The mothers are best friends, as close as sisters, and their boys are the same… in the beginning. Tankhun becomes a wild little thing, and Kinn, while seemingly mature in his efforts to please his father, has a fiery temper, and Porsche is the same. Kim and Porchay are like little blessing to make up for them; Kim is quiet, keeps to himself, rarely cried as a baby and even as he ages, he was always very withdrawn. Not in a bad way; he was just soulful, a still waters run deep kind of person. Porchay is the complete opposite. He was a little bundle of joy that everyone immediately falls in love with.

Kinn and Porsche are the worst of enemies and the best of friends, depending on the day. It’s honestly impressive how quickly they can go from playing to fighting to playing again, pulling hair and screaming one moment, and hugging the next. Meanwhile Kim is like the shadow to Porchay’s sunshine, always lingering around him, just out of reach.

This continues into teen-and-adulthood. Kinn and Porsche have a fiery on-again off-again relationship all throughout high school. Meanwhile Kim and Chay are steady; never more than friends, both of them always happy to be with the other without asking for more. Chay eventually realizes he likes boys too; Kim realizes he doesn’t like anyone as much as he likes Chay, but that’s Chay. And since he has no one else to compare to, Kim doesn’t notice the difference between friend love and romantic love, especially since Chay has just. Always been there. He doesn’t have a before-Chay to compare too, either.

There’s always still going to be that class divide between Obscenely Rich Employer and Employee, no matter how much they all care about each other. They only see each other occasionally when they’re older because Kinn and Porsche go to the very affluent private schools, and their afternoons are filled with extracurriculars that take up their time, while Porsche and Chay go the public schools close to home, and can’t afford many after school activities. There’s no jealously (most of the time…) but that is something that’s always there.

Although Kim tries to meet Chay halfway; as soon as he sees Chay’s longing looks at his guitar, Kim starts teaching him what he learns at his lessons whenever he can. And sometimes they sneak out at night together, looking for trouble, which Chay always gets them out of with his innocent smiles and sunny disposition that no one can stay mad at for long.

They stay up all night talking, lying side by side in Kim’s bed, closer than they need to be because it’s honestly massive but they’re so used to being close that personal space is never a question. They gossip about their brother’s latest spat, laughing at how dumb they are, and Kim squishes Chay’s cheeks whenever he gives him that big smile, because Kim doesn’t like anyone to touch him but he likes touching Chay, and in the morning Chay won’t sneak home because the kittisawat’s are always welcome in the theerapanyakul household.

Eventually Kim will wise up to the fact that the reason he’s never liked anyone else is because he’s already been in love with Chay this whole time, and he’ll panic about it a little bit. Maybe talk to Kinn or Porsche for advice. Kinn gives him generic How To Gay advice, but then Porsche walks in and tells him to stop being dumb and just ask Chay out already, because come on. They were really the last to know about their own feelings. They’re practically dating already.

[skyloftian-nutcase]

It was supposed to have been a relaxing family trip. Zelda had promised a place for them to stay in Castle Town, and they would have had the opportunity to just see the city and not worry about selling anything or doing knightly duties.

Malon should have known better. As much as Link preferred his domestic life, adventure always seemed to find him… and he was all too eager to answer the call.

She didn’t mind going on an adventure with him, honestly. She’d kind of always wanted to. What she hadn’t wanted, though, was to drag their daughter into it as well.

Their journey to Castle Town had been interrupted by beasts, rerouting them towards the forest to the south, near Lake Hylia. It was adjacent to the Lost Woods, and Link claimed it was mostly safe - at the very least it was safer than being exposed in Hyrule Field. He hadn’t wanted to engage out in the open with Malon and Navi so vulnerable, so this had been the next best thing.

The only issue was that Link was injured. And ill on top of it - he’d been coming down with something but had insisted on the family still going to Castle Town, outwitting Malon’s arguments by saying Well this is a vacation, darling, it’ll be restful!

Sighing, Malon leaned against a tree, her daughter nestled safely in her arms. Restful was not the word she’d use for this.

“We outran them,” Link noted as he watched behind them, pacing. With each step he took he faltered, steadily developing a limp.

“Honey, you can’t fight like this,” Malon said worriedly. “We should just stay here until they go away.”

“They might try to look for us,” Link argued. “Besides, the woods aren’t the safest either. It’s just that nothing’s going to go out of its way to attack us. But we can’t stay here.”

“You’re hurt,” Malon reiterated, pointing to the blood on his leg. She’d already wrapped the wound, insisting on taking care of it as soon as possible, but that didn’t mean it was all better now. She really wished they’d packed some milk - of all the times for them to be lacking their own product!

Link sighed heavily, sitting on the forest floor. His brow was furrowed deeply, holding that scowl he used to when worries plagued his mind. Malon reached over to put a reassuring hand on his shoulder, but to be honest she wasn’t much less anxious. This entire situation was a disaster, and she was frankly starting to get scared.

Link watched her a moment and then looked down. He was definitely deliberating something specific now, based on the way his eyes moved back and forth, one argument clashing with another in some kind of internal debate.

“What is it?” Malon asked.

“Nothing,” Link answered, shaking his head. “Can you do me a favor?”

Malon perked up in an instant, eager to help. “Of course, darling.”

“Can you help me get this boot off?”

Malon glanced at his injured leg and nodded. First, she looped a sling around her to let Navi rest while freeing her arms up. As she bent down to gingerly assist Link, suspicion tickled at the back of her brain. Link rarely asked for help - the man triaged himself by situation, not injury. Out in the field he would write off a broken bone as an inconvenience, but in the safety of their home a cold was the deadliest disease on earth.

But this situation wasn’t safe. Why was he suddenly so compliant? What was he up to?

Malon was about to ask as she reached for the boot, when a bright light flashed, warmth filled the air, and Link jerked with a muffled yell. Malon gasped, rising to her feet and grabbing the nearest stick as a weapon, eyes wide as she looked for whatever had hurt her husband, when—

When two glowing eyes looked back at her.

Malon stared. And then it clicked. “What are you doing out here?! Why, that idiotic husband of mine, take that off right now and I’ll punch him myself—“

The Fierce Deity hastily stood, taking three steps back as Malon charged at him. “This wasn’t of my volition.”

“You both know that mask hurts him, why is he putting it on when he’s sick and injured already—“

Navi burst into tears, upset by the racket. Malon paused from her tirade only due to such desperate circumstances, shushing her daughter and rocking her gently while glaring daggers at the deity.

“Perhaps he didn’t think he could protect you in his current state,” Fierce offered.

“That’s ridiculous!” Malon denied even as her mind screamed in agreement with Fierce. She herself had just been saying it.

But—but—oh, that husband of hers! He was getting the lecture of his life when he took that mask off!

A twig nearby snapped, and the deity had his blade out in an instant. Malon tried to calm Navi, who was still greatly perturbed, and she let the mythical being take the lead. He quickly rooted out the source of the noise. Malon had to admit she certainly felt safe watching the demigod dispatch the beasts with so much ease it might as well have been a joke.

When the danger had passed, she quietly asked, “Can you even feel the injury he had?”

The Fierce Deity glanced at her, and he tested the affected extremity. “A little, yes. I know he hurt it.”

“Things just… don’t hurt you, do they?” Malon huffed, marveling a little at it. Perhaps that was why Link had chosen to let him take over - nothing could slow him down.

The deity blinked, head tilting down as if he were considering it. “They do.”

He didn’t elaborate, and somehow that made the words all the heavier. Malon watched him a moment in silence, Navi finally calm in her arms. Then she sighed, finding a fallen tree to sit on, and she pat the space beside her invitingly. As she waited for the deity to approach, she started humming Epona’s song while rocking Navi back and forth.

Fierce slowly made his way over to her, sitting with such care it was as if he was approaching a frightened animal. Malon didn’t think too much into it - she knew his focus was on her daughter. She continued to sway gently, beaming down at her baby girl. Navi was calm, resting once more. Not for the first time, Malon had to marvel at the little one. She was perfect and beautiful.

And now she was safe.

Sighing, Malon said quietly. “Thank you.”

Fierce smiled softly. “Protection is my sworn duty. But more than duty, it is always a pleasure to protect Link’s family.”

Malon mirrored his smile, resuming her humming for a little while. Eventually, the deity commented, “She’s gotten bigger since you showed her to me.”

“That was six months ago,” Malon giggled. “Of course she’s gotten bigger.”

“I… do not know how quickly mortals grow,” Fierce noted a little uncertainly. “I've ascertained that the little Hero's journey wasn't exactly traditional. How long will she be this helpless?”

“Don’t you worry about her,” Malon chided gently with a chuckle. She knew that concerned tone and expression anywhere - it was still her husband’s face, even if the mask’s magic distorted it to share the deity's spirit. The two worried all the same. It was honestly kind of cute. “Link and I can take care of her.”

The deity continued to watch her daughter, face softening.

“Now don’t you tell me you don’t think we’re up to the task,” Malon teased, elbowing him.

He straightened a little, a smile pulling at his lips. “I remember little of my time before this mask, but I do recall that a mother’s love and protection is far fiercer than I could ever be.”

Malon felt a swell of pride in her chest, and she giggled. “Aw honey, look at you buttering me up. That won’t save you.”

Fierce blinked. “From what?”

“From eating,” Malon insisted, pulling out some biscuits that had been wrapped up for the journey. “Link needs it, and you don’t get to eat that much. My daddy always said my cookin’ was fit for a god, so I guess it’s time to test that.”

She actually managed to pull a laugh out of Fierce with that one, and it filled the air with mirth and magic. Malon felt like she'd just accomplished some grand quest like Link did on his journeys, and she laughed with him. Fierce eventually took the biscuits, sniffing them hesitantly.

Malon raised an eyebrow at him, but the gesture was lost upon the mysterious being. He took a laughably small bite, testing it, and then sighed, closing his eyes.

"You alright?" Malon asked quietly, trying to parse out the gesture. In most it would be a sign of appreciation, but Fierce's mannerisms didn't always match the norm.

"Six months," the deity said quietly before taking another bite. "It's such a short time."

"It certainly has flown by," Malon muttered, looking down at her baby. Navi had grown so much. She wanted nothing more than for time to stop. It was pretty ironic considering who she was married to. But his magic over time, as fantastical as it was, would be a curse in this situation. No, Malon didn't want to live the same days over and over as she herself grew old. She just wanted to cherish the time she had as much as possible.

Some days she did wish she could slow it down, though.

She kissed her daughter's soft head, taking in the scent of her skin, so new and unblemished, naïve to the worries lines her parents bore. Navi was her entire world, and she couldn't imagine it any other way.

"I suppose mortals do grow up quite quickly."

Malon nuzzled her baby girl a little more before looking up at the deity. He seemed very sad and alone all of a sudden, biscuit forgotten in his hand as it rested on his lap.

"Oh honey," she cooed gently, shifting closer to him. "All that means is we treasure what we do have."

Fierce watched her, his brow heavy over his eyes, a weight pushing on his shoulders. Malon tried reading into it, trying to figure out what was leaving the sweet mysterious man so perturbed. She supposed it was fairly obvious, though.

He would outlive them all. They both knew it. But that didn't mean—

Oh.

He didn't think he would have a chance to treasure such moments. How could he? He was locked away in a mask, only touching reality when worn. And Link had no reason to wear it.

Well, that just wouldn't do. They had to figure something out. Malon didn't wish the pain of that mask on her husband, but she didn't wish the loneliness of its imprisonment on Fierce.

"We have right now," she reasoned, trying to give him the most sincere smile she could. "Come on, love. Take your armor off and relax. As long as you're eating and resting, I reckon it'll be okay for a little bit, at least."

"You three were going somewhere," Fierce noted. "I should clear the road and escort you there safely."

"Maybe so," Malon replied. "But you're going to finish eating first."

He complied, finishing the biscuit before being handed another. After having several snacks from the provisions the family had packed, Malon and Fierce rose together. His gaze seemed to settle on Navi, and Malon held her out carefully, nodding in encouragement to the tall being.

Gently, oh so gently, Fierce took the baby in his arms. Instinctively, he swayed on his feet, eyes never leaving her face. Malon's heart warmed at the sight of it.

“Sometimes, I just wonder,” Malon remarked as she watched him. “You’re so… compassionate, and kind. They claim you're a war god, but you're really not. You love children so much. Surely… I think you might’ve had some, you know? Back then and all.”

Fierce watched her in silence before he tilted his head to the side with a smile, returning Navi to her mother. “I do have children.”

Malon jumped, surprised. “You do?”

“Yes,” the deity hummed quietly, a deep, rumbling sound that was nearly akin to purring. “And I’m very proud of both you.”

The words settled over her a moment before sinking in, and she knew she had to look like a deer caught in lantern light. The deity’s smile grew, almost as if teasing, but she knew he was being genuine. And she… felt almost at a loss for words by it. Her throat tightened a hair before she laughed, stepping towards him and pulling him into a hug. “Oh, you. You’re just as bad as Link.”

The Fierce Deity stood there stiffly a moment, clearly caught off guard by the contact, but slowly, he settled into the embrace. His hands were warm on Malon’s back as he pulled her closer, careful not to hurt Navi between them. His breath warmed her hair at the top of her head, and Malon nuzzled against his chest a little.

Silence hung amicably in the air, a pleasant comfort and warmth like a hearth ablaze with a cheery fire. Slowly, fairies came out of hiding, dancing and twinkling in the shadows and bringing a glow to the forest like the pink hues of a sunrise.

The supposed god of war knew peace, and Malon held this moment in her heart forevermore.

[skyward-floored]

C-can I make a request…? (Please feel free to ignore if you’d rather not!)

HDW parent-child comfort? Maybe Volga gets a chance to comfort Link, or Impa can comfort him? Idk girl I’m just starving for comfort and warm fuzzy vibes and cuddles lol

Yes you may! (though I will say requests are closed so nobody send me more thanks <3)

It took me a while to contrive a situation where Impa would feel comfortable snuggling but I think I made it work! You’ll have to forgive me for the angst there ended up being, but there is comfort and cuddles I promise 😂

——————————————————————————————————

It’s not a dangerous wound.

Head wounds always bleed a lot, and almost always look worse than they are, so there’s no need for her to panic.

Yet despite how many times Impa tells herself these words, she can’t seem to banish the dread in her gut at the memory of seeing Link get slammed to the ground by an aeralfos’s shield, and not get up even after it had been killed by another soldier.

She shouts his name as he goes down, but the battle is a mess, and Impa is stuck in a fight of her own and can’t immediately get to Link. She manages a glimpse of him through the hordes, blood all over his face, and her heart stops as she fights even more viciously.

By the time she finally forces her way past the monsters in her path, Link is already being carried out of battle by a handful of medics. Impa wants to stop right there and follow them and demand to know if he’s okay, but they’re at a crucial point in the battle, and leaving now would be disastrous.

They wouldn’t be carrying him off if he wasn’t alive, he’s alive, calm down, she berates herself, but for some reason her hands won’t stop shaking.

The moment Cia’s monsters retreat and the men raise up a cheer, Impa makes a beeline for the medical tent, ignoring the questions lobbed at her by various army personnel. Link has certainly been injured before, but there’d been so much blood on him...

The medics are expecting someone to come looking for Link apparently, and the moment she steps inside the medical tent, she’s whisked off to a more private corner, curtains blocking the area from both the sounds and sights of anyone walking by.

And immediately sees Link lying silently on a bed, nearly as pale as the bandage around his head.

Impa exhales as she goes to his side, and watches his chest go up and down for a moment. The blood has been cleaned from his face at least, but he’s unnaturally still, and pale.

But he’s breathing.

“How is he?” Impa asks, and the medic beside Link hums.

“He has a concussion along with the laceration the shield left, but we’ve stopped the bleeding. He woke up enough to handle a potion about fifteen minutes ago,” she reports. “He’ll likely be disoriented for a while while the potion works through him. He may need another at a later point, but overall, he should be fine with some rest,” the medic smiles. Impa nods, still trying to ease the fear constricting her.

See, he’s fine, they said he’ll be fine, he just needs rest. He’s fine.

Link’s chest goes slowly up and down again, and Impa swallows.

“I’ve got some other patients to check up on, I’ll leave you to visit,” the medic says, seeming to sense her presence isn’t wanted, and she slips out from the curtain, leaving Impa alone with her son.

It’s rather quiet with her gone.

Impa exhales again, and looks at Link, pale and quiet, seeming unusually small under the thin blanket that he’s tucked under. There’s still blood matted in his hair, and Impa hesitates, then reaches forward, gently teasing some of it out.

It falls almost dust-like onto his pillow, and she brushes it off, intent on not thinking about how close Link came to dying and how she couldn’t do a thing to help him.

She can still see hear his cry as he’d fallen to the ground.

“Mmngh...”

“Link?” Impa asks immediately, leaning over him as his face twitches.

It takes him a minute, but he blearily opens his eyes, pupils unevenly sized as he blinks up at her. The sight of his blues, even dazed as they are, eases the fear in her chest somewhat, and she swallows as he stares.

“‘mpa?” he slurs, and she nods, unable to stop her exhale. He’s fine, see, he’s awake, relax. “Wh’...?”

“You were injured, Link. You got hit rather hard in the head with a large metal shield,” Impa explains slowly. Link scrunches up his face like he’s trying to remember such an event happening. “You’re currently in the medics tent.”

Link slowly blinks at her, not a whit of comprehension in his gaze.

“...shield?”

“Yes, a shield hit you. Hard.”

The memory of blood flashes in Impa’s vision again, and she very pointedly ignores it as Link’s eyes scrunch in confusion.

“Where’s... m’ shield?” he mumbles.

“It’s with your other gear, Link. It’s safe.”

"Oh..." he trails off, and slowly blinks. "...Wh' happen?"

Impa sighs. The medic had said he’d be disoriented. "You were injured, Link. You're resting in the medical tent."

He hums in reply, and slowly rolls his head to the side so he can look at her more easily, eyes trailing hazily across her face. The unsure, almost guarded look that’s been on his face whenever he’s looked at her lately is completely absent, nothing but open trust and bleary confusion.

It’s... almost more painful, in a way.

Impa swallows, and sits on the stool that’s been left beside his bed, Link’s eyes flickering at the noise. He stares at her again, and blinks, a little frown pulling at his cheeks.

“Don’t cry,” he murmurs.

“...Link, I’m not crying,” Impa replies slowly, and Link stretches a hand in the vague direction of her face, obviously rather uncoordinated.

“Eyes’r red,” he says worriedly, and somehow manages to land a hand on her cheek. “Looks like... if you’re cryin’.”

Impa can’t help letting out a soft chuckle as he clumsily tries to wipe away an imaginary tear, and she gently pulls Link’s hand off her cheek, setting it back at his side. “I haven’t been crying, Link. My eyes are naturally this color.”

Link squints at her, face disbelieving, then he frowns.

“I want red eyes,” he says in a sad voice, and Impa brushes his hair away from where it had fallen in his eyes.

“Blue eyes are just as nice as red,” she says patiently, gently picking some more of the blood from his hair. She's talked to her share of concussed people, but concussed Link is... especially curious to speak with. “I’ve always liked blue, actually.”

“Oh... okay. I guess blue... 'r nice."

Link leans into her touch, and Impa holds her hand there longer than she would have otherwise, his eyes slipping closed again. He doesn’t speak for a minute, and Impa almost thinks he’s fallen asleep when he softly grunts.

“I don’t feel good,” he mumbles. “C'n you fix it?”

The way his voice wavers makes something squeeze in her chest. “I’m afraid not. The red potion should help fix you up soon Link, but it’s going to take a little while. You’ll just have to be patient.”

“Head hurts... ‘n stomach.”

“You have a concussion, that’s not surprising,” Impa sighs. “But the red potion should help with that. They’ll both fade, you’ll be all right.”

“Left,” he mumbles, and Impa raises a confused eyebrow. “‘M left-handed. Not right.”

Impa breathes a soft chuckle. “That you are. My apologies.”

Link goes quiet again, and Impa watches him, his face slightly pinched in discomfort. She’s unable to stop herself from studying his face as the silence stretches between them, idly picking out the features he shares with her and his father.

He’s got Volga’s hair, though it’s paler then his, a hint of his Sheikah blood coming through. His nose is hers, as is the overall shape of his face, but his eyes are solely how Volga’s used to be, blue and bright.

Looking at him, you'd never guess he had such unusual blood.

Link must feel her gaze on him, as he opens his eyes and looks at her again. His eyes are eyes half lidded, but focused on her face, and a frown appears on his lips as pain suddenly ripples across his expression. His forehead crinkles, discomfort suddenly more obvious as he shifts in his bed, and Impa leans forward, looking at him with worry.

“Link?”

He squeezes his eyes shut, then opens them again, looking at her with a truly miserable expression.

“...Hurts,” he whispers.

And maybe it’s the time of voice he uses, maybe it’s the mixture of tears and dizziness in his eyes, or the fact that he just looks so young and small and hurt lying there, but Impa abruptly gives in to the side of herself begging to do something other then just sit here.

He likely won't remember any of this tomorrow anyway.

She stands up from her stool as Link lets out a soft groan, and sits herself on the bed, gently sliding him over so she can sit beside him. Her plan was to merely provide comfort by sitting there, but Link almost immediately latches onto her, curling himself halfway on her lap.

Impa can’t really breathe for a few seconds as her son nestles up to her, face still pained, but more relaxed then before. She watches him as he tries to get settled, but he seems to be having trouble finding a comfortable position for his head.

So Impa throws her remaining caution to the wind, and does something she hasn’t done since Link was a baby.

She slowly, carefully, slides him up, shifting him around so his head is resting on her shoulder. Then she begins to gently pet his hair, her fingers trembling a little.

Link goes still, then relaxes, the pain easing on his face.

“There you go...” she says quietly, still slowly running a hand through his hair. She’s careful to avoid the bandages, making sure her fingers only card through hair, and Link about melts under her touch.

A soft sigh escapes him, and Impa swallows, the fact that this is the first time she’s held Link since he was tiny not lost on her.

She quickly blinks back the sting in her eyes.

A sound almost like purring suddenly vibrates from Link’s throat, soft and faint, just loud enough that Impa can hear it. She blinks at him in surprise, but Link doesn’t notice, well on his way to falling asleep.

Impa keeps petting his hair as he dozes against her, the little rumbly noises still coming from his throat. He nuzzles up to her a little more, and Impa pulls his blanket up around his shoulders, holding him just a bit tighter as he finally drifts off.

It's unlikely he'll have any memory of this occurring, Impa quietly soothing him as he falls asleep in her arms.

But that's okay.

Holding him again after so long, gently teasing the last bits of blood from his hair, his head resting under her chin as he softly rumbles... it's enough.

She closes her eyes, and Link sighs again, fully asleep.

It's enough.

[sauriansolutions]

FloRid Thoughts...

Riddle has a favorite seat in every class: front row, closest to the teacher. Everyone knows and respects that's Riddle's Spot. No one dares to try to take it from him or mess with it in any way.

Well, except...

One day, Floyd starts leaving stuff on Riddle's desk. Not chewed gum or pencil shavings, or anything like that. Also not folded notes or small, wrapped boxes. Just bafflingly random things.

"Floyd, did you just put a rock on my desk?"

"Yup!"

"... Why?"

"It's for you Goldfishie!"

"What am I supposed to do with a rock?"

"Ehh, whatever you want~"

This starts happening almost every day. One day, it's a spiky seed pod from a sweetgum tree that he found on the ground. Another day, it's two juniper berries picked from a bush outside the classroom. Then, a worn rubber eraser, with pencil marks that look like a frowny face.

By this point in his school life, Riddle has decided the best way to deal with Floyd's antics is to ignore them. He accepts each new item with an eyeroll and some form of, "Wow. I've always wanted a pencil that's been sharpened all the way down to the eraser. Thanks so much, Floyd."

"You're welcome lil Goldfish!" Floyd inevitably beams in response, as he goes skipping away to his actual class, or more likely, to goof off somewhere.

Riddle has no idea what to do with these "gifts." He really should throw them out, he thinks. After all, they're just junk. Just some weird prank Floyd has decided to play on him.

Instead, for some reason, Riddle keeps them. He puts them in a shoebox under his bed, where he doesn't have to look at them. (Except when he takes the box out every day to add a new item.) Where he doesn't have to think about them. (Except on nights when he can't sleep, and finds himself wondering.)

Riddle is a top student, but even he can't take every elective class. Which is too bad, because if he'd taken Cultural Studies of the Deep, he'd have known that symbolic gift-giving is a common way of expressing interest in a prospective mate, in many regions of the coral sea.

Maybe it is better that he doesn't know. Because, much as Floyd may love certain traits of his, Riddle might not appreciate the tiny pencil denoting his short status. Or the fact that the eraser looks just like his face when he's mad (it's even pink!)

But he might appreciate the realization that the rock (also pink), is shaped like a rose. That the juniper berries are the exact same blue-gray shade of his eyes, and the sweetgum ball looks like a small, spiky hedgehog.

What Riddle thinks remains to be seen. It probably won't be long before he starts putting the pieces of the puzzle together.

[andy-clutterbuck]

3x01 | Seed

[terraclae]

Thanks to Nav picking my contest entry I get to have a wonderful new lesbian in my lair, everyone say hi to Daffodil!