Piping Skills by Heraton29 

When Harry can’t quite master decorative piping, he uses the best template in the world - Louis’ tattoos.

(Featuring: terrible puns, lots of licking, and kitchen table sex)

Part 2 of the You & Icing series by @allthelarryfics

Dean felt it rather than saw it, it all happened so fast.

It transpired that Asmodeus’ hobbies included a fair amount of dark magic as well as his hedonistic past times. After taking care of Dagon they had finally located him, with Rowena’s help of course.

It happened suddenly, with no forewarning. He felt….cheated. Which he knew was ridiculous, how can your first though at dying be that it’s just unfair, but that’s how he felt nonetheless. Give him a fair fight and he’d win but this? A prince of hell and dark magic?

He felt a sudden and searing pain through his chest. It knocked him back and he fell with a gasp, rocking back onto his heels. He heard Sam’s shout, saw Cas spear the demon, saw it flicker and vaporize with a sound reminiscent of Ramiel’s final laughter. He saw Cas turn to him, eyes wide and Mary stood frozen behind him.


Cas felt it when Dean collapsed further, he could feel so much emanating from the man and was so aware of his presence that when it faltered it sent a shiver through him. They all ran to his side, Sam calling Dean’s name again and again, Mary silent and shaking.

He knew then that the magic was too strong for him to heal in the usual way with his grace. It was beyond his diminished ability, perhaps if he was at full power… which made him think, desperately, what if…

Sam shouted then,

“Cas, do something!”

Which brought him out of his stunned thoughts with a start, suddenly focused and determined.

He gently pushed Mary aside to lean in, cradling Dean’s shoulders with one arm and placing his other hand on his chest. He turned to Sam who looked at him wide eyed, imploringly, still silently mouthing Dean’s name.

“If this doesn’t work… I’m sorry…”

He leaned in, taking a deep breath and finally ghosting his lips over Dean’s.

With his hand placed firmly on Dean’s chest he pressed forward and gently reached for his soul. He felt it, the power and energy and finally, with the most conviction and faith he had ever felt, used the power to collect together his grace and push it forwards.

He felt Dean’s soul, fragile as it was, now burning brighter as his own grace left his body through his lips and rushed into the man he loved, healing him from within.

He would save Dean, if it meant losing his grace or even if it meant killing him. If this wasn’t a reason to die nothing would be.

Finally he felt Dean lurch, his eyes flying open. Cas pulled back as Dean brought a hand up to graze his cheek, his eyes wide and searching, then Cas blacked out.


A few days later they were back at the bunker, a normal day really. They’d spent the day looking for leads on the demons hunting Lucifer’s child, but Crowley was on it and he was on speed dial, they’d be fine.

The boys were arguing over what film to watch when finally Sam snapped.

“Dean, you were literally saved by true loves kiss. You don’t get to moan about chick flicks…ever”.

Dean threw his hands up, rolling his eyes.

“Ok fine Sammy. But for the record it still doesn’t count as a chick flick, it’s a classic!“.

He turned, calling down the hall. ’‘Come on Cas, we’ve not got all night! I got us that special mixed salty and sweet popcorn, your favourite… ”

Losing Faith (Daryl Dixon imagine)

imagine: you are a Christian slowly losing your faith. as the new world has already forced you to break a few of the ten commandments already, Daryl helps you to break the rest. (1,705 words)

i’ve been studying the bible a lot recently and thought this would be a pretty interesting idea for an imagine, even though it is a little weird! i can imagine daryl being somewhat interested by religion, despite not holding any beliefs himself. hope you enjoy! - gabby :)

tw: i just want to mention that some christians may feel uncomfortable reading this as i understand the importance of the decalogue. i have complete respect for the religion and followers of it and i do not intend offence at all

Originally posted by luxurycruisecaryl

I’d been happily raised as a Christian and always enjoyed going to church, studying the Bible, singing hymns and praying with my parents every evening. I’d married a Christian man; admittedly the relationship wasn’t great and we did divorce, but I had always been surrounded by the faith. But that was before I’d seen dead people walking, covered myself in the guts of walkers for disguise, and before I’d shot Hershel’s reanimated family as they came out of the barn. I’d been questioning my faith for a while now.

Daryl and I were the last people you’d expect to be good friends; I being a quiet, reserved Christian girl and he being almost the opposite of that. Our friendship perplexed the group, that was evident, but no one questioned it. I lessened Daryl’s grumpiness and he encouraged my fun side; we certainly brought out the best in each other.

So it wasn’t a surprise to me that Daryl noticed something was up on the evening Rick, Glenn, Hershel and I returned with Randall. I’d ended up having to go against my beliefs and had shot someone living, something I vowed to never do. I headed straight towards my tent after grumbling a half-hearted goodnight to everyone, only to be followed by Daryl. 

“What happened out there?” Daryl queried, crouching beside the entrance to my tent. I tried to ignore him, tucking myself into my sleeping bag and turning away from him. “Y/N?”

“God doesn’t exist,” I whispered, barely audible. As I turned to face Daryl the moonlight lit up his face, displaying his concerned and confused expression. “Why would he allow the world to fall apart so that we are forced to kill, to break the Ten Commandments?”

“You killed someone?” My lack of response answered Daryl’s question, so he took a different approach. “How many’ve you broken?” He sounded intrigued while remaining considerate.

“Two, I guess. I don’t think leaving your parents to die in a hospice for elderly people while the world ended counts as ‘honoring your father and mother’.” I turned to face away from Daryl again, my eyes brimming with tears I wanted to keep hidden. 

“Better rest up, Y/N.”


“We’re gonna break ‘em all tomorrow.” 

I awoke to my tent being violently shaken; I grabbed my knife and tentatively unzipped the entrance, making sure the zip made as little noise as possible. As I peered out of the tent I could make out Daryl’s boots and jeans as he shook the pole holding my tent up. Rubbing at my drowsy eyes, I kicked him lightly in annoyance of my wake up call. 

Oh my fucking God, Daryl, you’re so annoying” I groaned, stretching and yawning as I embraced the morning. I giggled at my words. “There goes another commandment broken. You shall not take the name of the Lord in vain.”

“This’ll be easier than I thought,” Daryl grinned, leading me towards a tree a little while away from the farm so we could plan in peace.

We leant against the tree; Daryl cleaned his crossbow while I scribbled my thoughts in my notebook, a hobby I had kept from before this all happened. The shade cooled us from the blazing summer heat, and I enjoyed the sound of the light wind rustling through the leaves above us.

Remember the Sabbath day, to keep it holy,” I muttered, catching Daryl’s attention. “The Sabbath day is Sunday.”

“I know what the Sabbath day is, I ain’t dumb.”

“Just making sure,” I grinned, playfully nudging his shoulder. “I have no idea what day of the week it is, and I’m pretty sure it’s impossible for any day to be holy with walkers around, anyway.”

Daryl nodded and finished polishing his crossbow before placing it on the ground and lighting a cigarette. I squinted to look at him as he chewed on the end of it, taking a long drag.

You shall have no other God’s before me,” I recited, secretly enjoying the overpowering scent of Daryl’s cigarette. “How am I gonna break that one?”

Daryl grabbed my notebook and shuffled away from me, a small smile playing on his lips as he exhaled smoke. 

“Daryl is so god-like,” he grinned, trying his best to imitate my voice. “I gotta shrine to him in my tent an’ I worship him every night.” I rolled my eyes and caught the notebook he was tossing back to me, smirking as he chuckled to himself, amused by his own lame joke.

“I guess that’ll have to do,” I laughed lazily and took Daryl’s cigarette from between his lips, curious to take a drag. I tried to ignore his laughs as I spluttered and coughed on the unpleasant taste of the smoke.

“Carl, can I borrow some paper?” 

Daryl had come up with the genius idea of drawing an image of God to break the commandment “you shall not make idols”. Carl took a break from drawing what looked like a comic strip and handed me some paper. I drew a generic picture of an old man with a long beard floating on some clouds, embarrassed by my lack of artistic skill. 

“There, I made an idol of God.”

“Wait a second,” Daryl grabbed the pencil and drew devil horns on my awful cartoon portrait, also giving ‘God’ sharp teeth and green skin. “Much better.”

“You’re so going to hell, Dixon.”

“Hell ain’t gonna be much worse than this.”

As we strolled back to the RV to grab a drink of water and some late breakfast, I quickly slipped Daryl’s crossbow off of his shoulder and tossed it into my open tent as we passed it by. He glared at me, but before he could question it I quoted “you shall not steal”, before declaring that the crossbow was mine for the night. Daryl wasn’t too fond of that idea.

I’d broken seven commandments so far in such a short amount of time, and it felt rather invigorating to defy the rules I’d lived my life by for so long. Daryl and I sat in Dale’s RV, sharing a can of peaches and laughing over the ridiculous drawing we created earlier. I kicked my legs up onto the small table, knocking over a glass in the process; Daryl and I both winced as we heard it shatter on the floor. Of course, Dale had to enter the RV in that exact, unfortunate moment.

“Sorry Dale, Daryl knocked your glass over, I’ll clean it up,” I said sweetly, to which Dale tutted and left his RV, exasperated.

“I ain’t the one who smashed that, Y/N!” Daryl exclaimed, watching me struggle to pick up the fragments scattered all over the floor.

You shall not bear false witness against your neighbour,” I replied. I noticed Daryl’s puzzled look. “It basically means don’t lie to people.” 

“You’re a real convincin’ liar.”

“Why thank you.”

Somehow, I’d fallen asleep in the RV after reading a book for a short while. When I awoke, my head was in Daryl’s lap, and it seemed he’d drifted off too, his head resting against the wall behind him, his light snores making me giggle. I sat up and studied his sleeping face, finding myself smiling and absent-mindedly reaching out to touch his face. I stroked the rough skin of his cheek, watching him stir into consciousness. I pulled my hand away quickly, suddenly realising what I was doing. I wasn’t quick enough though, as Daryl awoke with a smirk on his face, pulling me closer to him once more.

“Didn’t know you were a cuddler, Daryl,” I grinned, resting my head on his shoulder. 

“Only when I‘m sleepy,” he replied, arousing a giggle from me. His hand snuck around my waist; I shivered at his touch. 

“How many of ‘em we got left?” He asked, lacking the energy to open his eyes. His voice was raspy from sleep, and I tried to suppress my attraction to him in that moment. I’d always thought Daryl was good looking, but had never felt such warmth towards him until now. 

“Two,” I replied, snapping out of the daze I was in, my face reddening as I came to the realisation that I’d been gazing at him in affection. “You shall not covet.”

“What’s tha’ mean,” he drawled lazily, running a hand through his untidy hair; I found myself yearning to run my own fingers through it. 

“To covet means to have a desire for something forbidden,” I stammered on my words as I felt his hand roam underneath my shirt, resting on the bare skin of my hip. Daryl began to draw small circles on my skin with his fingertips, and my breath fluttered. This was certainly not what I expected to happen this afternoon, but I wasn’t complaining.

“I ain’t forbidden, Y/N,” he muttered. “I’m all yours.” 

I couldn’t tell whether he was joking, so I laughed off the remark and focused on the feeling of his touch on my skin, cherishing the moment. It was true though, I did have a desire for Daryl, I’d only just uncovered it.

“What’s the last one, Y/N?”

You shall not commit adultery,” I breathed quietly. “And because I was married before, sleeping with anyone other than my ex-husband counts as adultery in Christianity.”

A smile played on Daryl’s lips as he placed his hands on my shoulders and looked at me intently. I admired his tongue as he licked at his chapped lips, feeling the urge to kiss him then and there.

“If you want, I can help you break that last one,” he whispered, tucking a strand of loose hair behind my ear. “Meet me in my tent later?”

His lips were all of a sudden upon mine and the feeling was greater than I could have hoped; his tongue danced over my bottom lip causing me to gasp inwardly. Before I could even kiss him back, he’d exited the RV with a wink, leaving me alone to collect my racing thoughts. 

“Jesus Christ,” I muttered to myself, before chuckling at the blasphemy I hadn’t even intended. I was sure now that I was no longer a child of God; the unholy scenes featuring Daryl and I that were playing out in my head were definite proof of that.