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millyhelp · 3 months

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"Goodbye, Jason."

Part 2 | back to you masterlist.

Taglist: @harleycao @jaysgirlx @intriq @jasontoddsdarling @killxz @duduvea @idontknow2754 @remanisce @starrvine @dragon-slayer23 @nalilvsjaybird @xxsweetnlowxx @oranoyaora @deimks @lv9su

Warning: make out between teenagers (not sex), mentions of weapons, mentions of violence, angry Alfred. angst.

Notes: Sorry for the delay in posting this, I've been so busy 😭 But I'm glad I did it. Please comment and reblog. I really like your opinion and it is always welcome!!

Hungry hands squeezed your hips and guided you along the growing length. Thirsty lips kissed your neck, eliciting soft whimpers from your throat.

He was supposed to help you study for the math test, but Jason couldn't help himself when he saw you so cute with those round glasses that made your face beautiful and your eyebrows furrowed as he explained.

In the silence, the library in the great Wayne mansion made your little whimpers seem loud.

"Sh... be quiet for me, huh?" Jason whispered in your ear "Alfred can find us here, we don't want that, do we?"

"No- Hm... we don't want that" You whispered back

"Good girl." Jason's lips crashed onto yours again. He raised one of his hands towards your breast and with the other he guided your hips on top of him.

Knocking on the door startled you both. You jumped off Jason's lap and back to your spot next to him on the couch.

"Master Todd, Miss YL" Alfred entered the library with a tray in his hands. "Master Bruce asked me to bring biscuits and tea. I hope I'm not disturbing your studies."

Alfred wasn't stupid and he was also a teenager once. With great elegance he held back his smile when he noticed the two teenagers with red cheeks and labored breaths.

"It's okay Alfred!" Jason tried his best to speak and smiled at the butler. "We were just finishing. Aren't we, Princess?"

"Yes..." You spoke with a low tone of voice and embarrassment. Alfred walks to the large table in front of the couch and sets the tray on top.

"Good. I'm leaving." Alfred looks at Jason with a warning look "Behave yourself, Master Todd."

As soon as Alfred left Jason sighed in relief and you started laughing.

"Why are you laughing?" Jason frowned and looked at you with amusement "Did you like being caught? huh?"

Jason climbed on top of you laying you on the couch. You stopped laughing and looked into his deep eyes.

"Does the idea of being caught turns you on?" Jason's nose ran across your neck.

"Jay... You need to finish teaching me- oh." You moan when you feel Jason suck on your sweet spot on your neck, leaving a mark.

"Teaching you? But teach you what? Be specific..." Jason purred "I can teach you many things."

"The math test." You managed to speak and Jason smiled.

"If you do well on this test next week. I’ll reward you” Jason winked at you and got up off of you.

He took the book in his hands.

"So, where were we?"

"Run!" Jason was pulling your hand as you ran from Alfred.

Maybe stealing the cookies he had just taken out of the oven wasn't a good idea. You and Jason laughed as you ran inside the mansion.

"It was your idea!" You shouted to Jason in a breathless voice.

"But you like it!" Jason pulled you into one of the guest rooms and waited for Alfred to run past you two.

"But I don't agree-" Jason covered your mouth with his hand

"Shh..." Jason looked through the crack in the door and Alfred ran past and looked.

You and Jason started laughing when you realized you were safe. A kiss was planted on your forehead.

"I didn't think he would be so mad." You commented smiling

"Nah. He's not mad. Well." Jason giggled "He's mad at me, not you. You are the good one."

"You're the good one too, Jay." You rolled your eyes

Jason was so focused looking at you. He was memorizing everything. Your eyes, your nose, your mouth, your beautiful cheeks, everything. He was afraid of forgetting.

"I found you two!" Alfred's voice sounded from behind you two making you both startle.

"It was Jason's idea!" You said and Jason looked at you indignantly.

It was Valentine's Day. It was already the third time you spent together. Holding hands and sincere smiles. Jason is happy.

"Princess..." Jason started to speak and you looked at him "I want to take you somewhere."

He wanted to take you to a place that was important to him. A place where he suffered. A place where he knew he needed to show you.

"Sure, Jay. Where is it?" Her sweet and gentle voice made his heart swell with love.

"Crime Alley. Where I was born and raised." Jason bit his lip as he spoke.

"If it's important to you. Take me there." You gave his hand a squeeze as a sign of support and assurance.

Jason nodded and began to guide you towards it. You two weren't that far away.

The walk was silent, but not in Jason's mind. He had been so fragile since he found out who his real mother was. He only took out his unresolved anger on patrols, but not on you. Jason was afraid of hurting you.

Upon arriving at the crime alley, Jason's eyes became sad.

"I lived there before Bruce adopted me." He pointed his finger at a hole beneath a fire escape in an old building.

"Oh Jay... I'm sorry." You looked at him. Jason's eyes had a window of tears ready to break and fall.

"My mother had died a few weeks ago, before the whole batman thing. I-..."

You placed your hands on his cheeks and made him look at you. Jason wasn't much taller than you, just a few inches.

The window of tears broke and Jason cried. You hugged him tightly and he hid his face in your neck. Soft sobs were left from the lips on your neck.

"It's okay now." You said lovingly as you ran your hands over his back "I'm here with you, I'll never leave you."

That was a promise. Jason knew that.

Your neck was wet with his tears. Little by little he calmed down and the sobs started to lessen. Knowing Jason, you knew he had been holding back for a long time to be able to cry like this.

"All good?" You asked softly in his ear and he murmured

"Mhm..." Jason's arms tightened around you in a deep hug. He can't lose you. "Thank you..."

"Don't need to thank me." You ran your hands through Jason’s hair and he shivered below of your fingers.

He loved having your hands in his hair, no matter what. This left him vulnerable and on his knees.

When he finally removed his face from your neck, he looked into your eyes. His beautiful face was red and his eyes were a little swollen, but still, there was your Jason.

Jason still had a cut on his lip from the previous patrol. Jason is so handsome.

"It wasn't a good idea to bring you here. I'm sorry, it was a dumb idea and-" You cut him off.

"It wasn't dumb." you ran your thumb over his cheek "I already told you. If it's important to you..."

"...It's important for you too." Jason added and you smiled.

Jason had his forehead next to yours when he felt a presence near you.

"Give me everything you have!" A gun was pointed at your head and Jason went on alert. A robber. Today was not his lucky day.

Your eyes widened in fright. But Jason held you tight. You were with Robin now.

"Give me the purse!" The man shouted at you, making you flinch. "And you give me your wallet and that watch, brat!"

"What if I don't want to?" Jason shouted coldly.

"Give me what I asked for or I'll-" Jason cut the robber off.

"Or what? you shoot me?" Jason lets go of you and quickly takes the robber's gun and breaks his hand, making him scream in pain. "You should think twice before pointing a gun at my girl!"

Jason saw red. All the anger that was stored in him was taken out on the man. Punches and butts of the gun were distributed in the face of the man who was begging Jason to stop. You were in shock, tears fell down your face. You had never seen Jason so violent.

"Jason, that's enough! You're going to kill him!" You finally managed to say and clarity came to Jason's mind.

He released the man. Hands with blood, face disfigured. The man was already unconscious. Jason looked at you and his heart sank. A frightened look was in your eyes. You were scared of him.

"Princess..." Jason whispered and looked at his hands. Blood, blood that wasn't his. He lost control in front of you. "I'm- I'm sorry-... I."

"Take me home." You managed to say "Now."

Fuck. Did you hate him? Did he lose you? Were you scared of him? Would you break up with him?

"Sure." He nodded and finally moved away from the man on the ground. He wasn't nearly dead, but he would survive.

Jason didn't touch you. He just accompanied you and together you ordered a taxi.

When Jason dropped you off at your house he didn't have the courage to look you in the eyes, he didn't have the courage to kiss you. He didn't want to see fear in you.

"Bye, Jay..." The nickname leaving your lips and a kiss left on his cheek made him feel more guilty. He didn't deserve your mercy. He was silent and didn't look at you.

You looked at him with a heavy and sad heart, but you knew he needed time.

"My window will be open." You said and got out of the taxi soon after watching him leave.

Jason didn't show up.

Jason was gone for two months.

You were worried. No messages or calls, not even a letter he wrote to you sometimes. Nothing.

After much agony you made up your mind. You went to the manor. But it was in vain. Jason didn't receive you. You tried several times. but it was always the same thing.

Your last stop was school. Jason had missed for two months, he wouldn't miss it that much. You waited, and there he finally was.

Jason looked horrible. There was a look below his eyes, a black eye, a cut on his lip and eyebrow.

He walked past you, completely ignoring you. You felt pain.

You pressed a hand to his chest. what happened to him?

You knew one thing. He couldn't escape from you in the literature class.

Your classes passed until you reached literature class. There he was, sitting in his usual seat and yours was empty. You quickly walked in and sat next to him.

You wanted to curse him, hit him, scream at him, kiss him and ask why he disappeared. But no, you wouldn't do that.

The class passed. Jason remained silent. You noticed him looking at you but when you turned to look back, he looked away and ignored you again.

You weren't putting up with it.

Class ended and Jason left first. You went after him. When you finally reached him, you grabbed his arm.

"What's gotten into you?!" were the first words that came out of his mouth. Everyone looked at you. "Where have you been?!"

"y/n, not here." He called you by your name. He doesn't call you that.

Jason held your hand and you went to a calmer place without an audience.

"Aren't you going to answer my questions?" You looked at him indignantly. He wouldn't look him in the eye. "Answer me, Jason!"

"I can't do it anymore, okay?!" Jason yells and finally looks you in the eye "This isn't going to work anymore!"

"What?..." You shake your head, "What do you mean? Jason, what does that mean?!"

"I'm breaking up with you." You can see the sadness in his eyes. He didn't want to do that.

"Jason, what happened in crime alley-" He interrupted you

"It wasn't supposed to happen. I shouldn't have taken you there."

"You disappear for two months and just tell me you want to break up with me without any explanation?!" Tears left your eyes "Wow, how brave of you!"

"Just... I can't anymore..." Jason shakes his head "Can..." he sighed "Can we just be friends?"

"Friends?" You shook your head

"Please."

"Goodbye, Jason."

"No, please!" He tried to take your hand. But with a tearful look, he let you go.

Little did you know that it really was goodbye.

IM NOT CRYING!! YOU ARE!!

Coment and reblog please!! And thank u!

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allyallyorange · 1 month

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Yunho The Human

AT AU is back with another little story written by @nnnnnnnothingtoseehere

How Yunho ends up in Universe A

Master Post for AT AU

“You should spend more time with Jongho,” his mom says. “Take him somewhere on your day off, like you used to.”

Yunho almost snorted at that, but manages to hold it back. It was too early in the day for another fight with his parents, especially after the previous night.

It had started the same way it always did, with his dad making some off handed comment about what Yunho should be doing with his life but clearly wasn’t.

He hadn’t even tried to hold back the biting response then, and things quickly devolved.

It had made him want to scream because they acted like he should just get over himself and move on with his life, like that was something easy or possible to do.

Yunho didn’t know how to explain to them the way his chest ached all the time, or how hard it was to get out of bed every morning. He knows they would say he should be moving on, especially after so many years.

After all, Jongho was fine. Jongho, who lost his parents. Yunho should be fine; he only lost his best friend, after all. Jongho is more than fine; he seems to be the next Albert Einstein at the age of twelve. He’s bright and smart and good at studying; in other words, everything Yunho isn’t.

It hurts more than Yunho will admit to be surpassed in every single category by a twelve year-old.

“You guys used to be so close,” his mom continues. She is washing dishes at the sink, with her back to Yunho. “He’s been through a lot, you know. It would be a shame if the two of you grew apart now.”

Yunho resists the urge to inform her that he’s been through a lot too, and maybe doesn’t want to spend time with the tiny little prodigy who is better than him in every way, including dealing with grief.

When he doesn’t respond, his mother eventually turns around to look at him.

“Did you hear me, Yunho?”

“Yeah,” Yunho mumbles, dragging his spoon through his cereal. “I heard.”

It’s already going soggy, and Yunho almost feels sorry for the limp bits of cereal floating around. He feels like that most of the time these days.

“You really should take him somewhere,” his mom says in that vaguely hopeful tone that Yunho has come to dread. “Get hot chocolate with him or something. Something fun, to get you both out of the house.”

“Fine,” Yunho is answering before he even realizes what he’s saying. “I’ll ask him.”

The smile his mom gives him just makes him feel worse. She looks so hopeful, like this will actually be the thing that gets Yunho’s life back on track.

He doesn’t bother to correct her. He’ll disappoint her soon enough.

Of all places, Jongho wants to go to the library.

Yunho just gapes at his cousin, finally asking what on earth he wants to do at the library.

Jongho rattles off some answer that goes straight over Yunho’s head. The kid is probably researching advanced particle physics for fun, or something similarly nerdy and genius.

“Fine,” Yunho sighs. “Let’s go.”

You could have cut the tension in the car with a knife. Yunho finally turns the radio up, desperate to listen to something other than the constant parade of guilt and self-criticism that makes up his thoughts.

Jongho didn’t say anything, just fidgeting with his gloves in the passenger seat.

He practically bolts out of the car the second Yunho puts it in park, disappearing through the library doors before he can even get fully out of his seat.

Figures. Yunho wouldn’t want to hang out with himself either.

He trails after Jongho, making a vain attempt to stomp some of the melting snow off his shoes before stepping into the library.

Yunho hasn’t been here in ages, and he takes a deep breath on instinct. The smell of books is comforting, and he takes a moment to just soak it in.

Everything is smaller than he remembers, but he’s definitely had several growth spurts since he was last here. The kid sized reading tables look ridiculously small, and Yunho can’t believe he ever fit in the seats.

He would come here with Mingi, mostly during the summer when they were bored. They would sit for hours and read every comic book the library had, until the words spun off the page or they fell asleep.

Yunho shakes his head violently, trying to dislodge the memories. This is why he doesn’t leave the house; they would roam all over town. He can’t go anywhere without being reminded of him.

It takes him way too long to find Jongho. The kid is sitting at one of the tables in the reference section, almost invisible behind a stack of at least five hefty books. Yunho quickly gives up on reading the title of the one in Jongho’s hands when he doesn’t even know what the first word means.

He flops down across the table from Jongho, pulling his phone out of his pocket. He is just opening one of his mobile games when a pointed ‘ahem’ gets his attention.

Jongho is glaring at him from across the table, face scrunched comically.

“What?” Yunho asks, earning a furious hiss from his cousin.

“We’re in the library,” Jongho whispers pointedly. “Talk quietly.”

“My bad,” Yunho mutters, glancing back down at his phone.

“This is a library,” Jongho repeats in a biting whisper. “Find a book to read.”

Yunho blinks at him for a long moment, weighing out the amount of energy it would take to actually fight him on this.

You’re supposed to be bonding with him, his mom's voice whispers in his head. Fighting would definitely not do that.

“Fine,” he grits out. “I’ll get a book.”

He stands up, pushing his chair away from the table with exaggerated care. Jongho watches him seriously, only looking back down at his book when Yunho actually begins to look at the nearby shelves.

Nothing in this section is remotely interesting, and Yunho wanders aimlessly in search of something decent. He almost doesn’t stop when he passes an end display of fairy tales, but something about the bright covers has his feet slowing almost on his own.

He knows he’s too old for fairy tales at this point. He knows better than most that happy endings are pure fiction; the real world is much worse.

The book at the top of the display looks different from the rest, and he picks it up on whim. Flipping it open, he expects bright pictures and ornate pages, all accompanying a predictably bland story about princes and princesses and happily ever afters.

It quickly becomes apparent that the book in his hands is anything but that. It doesn’t even look like it’s a fairy tale, really. It seems more like a guide to being a hero, and Yunho finds himself reading more and more while just standing there.

He knows it’s dumb, and that he should find some actually helpful book probably called something like “How To Fix Your Life For Dummies.” But deep down, he knows he just wants to think about something other than his shitty life. Some weird book that takes itself way too seriously may be a cheap bit of escapism, but Jongho clearly won’t let him burn a couple of hours on his phone.

Tucking the book under his arm, Yunho returns to where he left Jongho. The kid hasn’t moved, but has switched books. There’s no way he read it that fast, but Yunho honestly wouldn’t be surprised if he did.

Doing his best to ignore his cousin, Yunho sits back down and opens up the book again. It’s not a difficult book to read, and he is soon comfortably lost in a vaguely nonsensical chapter about how to kiss a princess.

The book is simple, but it’s just enough to keep him from thinking about anything else. It’s honestly nice to sit here and escape for a while, and before long he’s more than halfway through. He has to skip some sections that seem to be written in entirely different languages, as well as a few that are just covered in symbols and diagrams that don’t make any sense.

Yunho is just about to turn the page when he realizes the pages of the book look like they’re sparking, somehow. He pauses, watching as what look like little white sparks jump off the page, bouncing harmlessly off his clothes and the table.

He is just beginning to open his mouth to ask Jongho if he’s losing his mind when the sparks begin to pour off the book, increasing in brightness.

Yunho had been leaning the book against the edge of the table, and he quickly pushes it fully on the table. That doesn’t stop the sparks, and as he watches they begin to flow upwards until there’s a whole bunch of them floating a few inches over the book.

This is it, Yunho thinks distantly. It’s the mental break you were waiting for. He’s finally going crazy; it took years but he’s made it.

The sparks have solidified into a mass of light, hovering over the book. The light stretches as Yunho stares, widening and flattening until it’s as large as a decently sized tv. Some part of his brain wonders if anyone else is seeing this or if it’s just him.

The light has been white up until now, but the center of the mass begins to darken. The effect reminds Yunho of pouring water on ice, how it will make some parts of the ice transparent and more glass-like.

He leans forward, trying to get a better look. The darkness has now spread to cover most of the mass, leaving only a rim of light around the edges. It reminds Yunho of every portal he’s ever seen in superhero movies and comic books.

He almost falls out of his chair when he realizes there’s a person looking back at him from the other side. Their features aren’t clear, still obscured by the surface of the portal.

Yunho watches in horrified fascination as a hand reaches through the portal, the surface dragging for a moment before breaking around their fingers. The hand grabs the edge of the portal like it’s solid and Yunho stares because normal people don’t have blue skin.

He looks up just in time to see the person’s other hand pulling the surface aside enough for their head to poke through, dragging it out of the way.

The person looks to be a guy, around Yunho’s age. He looks pretty normal, with dark hair and sharp eyes that survey the library quickly.

You would almost think he’s human if it wasn’t for the bright blue skin and pointy ears clearly on display because of his haircut.

Yunho is tempted to look around to check if anyone else is seeing this alien portal with a real life alien reaching out of it, but he doesn't. He’s sure that if he as much as blinks this will all disappear.

“Have you seen a guy with white hair?” the alien asks, looking at Yunho. “He’s just a bit taller than me, and pretty skinny?”

Yunho gapes at him for a long moment, trying to remember how to speak.

“U-um, no,” he finally stammers.

The alien’s face tugs into a frown at that, and he lets out a slight sigh.

“Fair enough,” he admits, beginning to pull away from the portal. The second he does, it begins to close, the dark part fading first.

“Hey wait,” Yunho calls out, reaching for the portal without thinking about it.

He jolts the second he touches it, feeling like he was just shocked. He is opening his mouth to say ouch or yell or ask what on earth is going on but he quickly finds he can’t. The feeling of vertigo rushes up to catch him, and Yunho feels like he’s being yanked forward through the portal.

He lands hard on his ass, voice coming back in the middle of a yell. He quickly stops yelling, way too surprised for that.

The blue guy from before is standing in front of him, looking just as surprised and confused as Yunho feels. They seem to be in some kind of room, but everything from the walls to the floor are perfectly black. It’s unsettling, making him feel like he’s standing in an open void somehow.

“Where the hell are we?” Yunho asks. “What is going on? Who are you?”

The guy just stares at him, eyes wide as they dart around Yunho’s face quickly.

“Did you find what you were looking for?”

The sound of a third voice startles both of them, and Yunho scrambles to his feet as the blue guy whips around.

He almost falls again because there is what could only be described as a column of light in front of him. He squints at it, belatedly realizing that it’s not column-shaped at all. It has a head and arms, and clearly a voice.

Yunho could have sworn he didn’t have that much to drink last night. This has to be a dream, a hallucination, something. He’s been watching too many dumb superhero movies lately and his subconscious is finally deciding to take revenge.

“U-um, sort of?” the blue guy stammers. “I mean, I found him but that’s not what I was looking for.”

He sounds just as confused as Yunho knows he looks, but he’s thankful the weird light person isn’t talking to him. The blue guy is weird, but he at least has a face.

“That’s great,” the light person says easily. “I hope you succeed in your journey.”

They raise a hand, and Yunho feels that same sense of vertigo rising up to meet him. This time it feels like he’s falling backwards, the whole sensation churning his stomach violently.

At least he lands on his feet this time.

The room around him thankfully looks relatively normal after the freaky void place, worn wood under his feet and making up the walls.

He looks around slowly, trying to figure out what exactly happened.

He seems to be in a treehouse of some kind, various branches crisscrossing through the walls and floor. The whole place is fairly small, but it may just look that way because it’s absolutely full of stuff.

Yunho gapes at the eclectic assortment of weapons, tech, and unidentifiable objects scattered across the floor and various surfaces of the room. None of this makes any sense, and he only ends up with more questions when his gaze lands on the two other people in the room with him.

One of them is the alien guy from before, looking just as blue. He is staring at a normal looking guy, who is in turn staring at Yunho.

They stare at each other for a long moment before everyone starts talking at the same time.

“Is this him?” the normal guy asks, clearly talking to the blue alien dude.

“No, I have no idea who this is,” the blue guy responds.

It’s a little tricky to actually make out what he’s saying because Yunho is also talking.

“What the hell is going on?” he demands. “Who are you guys? What is this place?”

They all continue to talk over each other for several minutes before the normal looking guy holds up both hands.

“Stop,” he says loudly. “We can’t all talk at once.”

Yunho shuts his mouth reluctantly, knowing that he does make a good point.

The guy turns to face him more fully, giving Yunho a chance to get a better look at him. He certainly looks normal, with dark hair. He does have blond undersides, peaking through the upper half of his hair

He also has a plant growing out of the top of his head. It’s a perfectly normal plant, with leaves and everything. Yunho gapes at it, not quite able to believe his eyes.

“You ended up in our headquarters, so you’re going to answer our questions,” the guy continues briskly. “Sit down.”

“Um, where?” Yunho asks, glancing around the crammed treehouse.

The blue alien dude moves forward to shove a few weapons and piles of metal parts off a surface, eventually revealing a couch under all the stuff. He gestures to it, and Yunho obediently sinks down.

“Right,” the normal guy says, putting his hands on his hips. “Have you ever seen this guy?”

He bends down to pick up a rolled up piece of paper, unrolling it so Yunho can see.

The paper has a drawing of someone on it, but Yunho can’t make out anything actually identifiable. The drawing looks like it was done by a two year old, and not an artistically inclined two year old.

“...no,” Yunho says slowly. “No I haven't.”

“Are you sure?” the guy asks again. “He has white hair? Seems pretty powerful?”

“Nope,” Yunho repeats, shaking his head.

“Think he’s lying?” the guy asks, turning to look at the blue alien.

He just shrugs, looking as confused as Yunho feels.

“You know I can hear you,” Yunho points out, not particularly liking being talked about like he’s not in the room.

“Hush,” the guy tells him. “We’re the ones interrogating you.”

Yunho doesn’t point out that this is the most informal interrogation he’s ever seen. He’s sitting on their couch, for crying out loud. There’s nothing to keep him here, and Yunho really doubts either of them could actually restrain him if necessary. The blue guy is pretty muscular, but Yunho has at least four inches on him.

The other two continue to talk, at least having the decency to lower their voices so Yunho can’t hear them as easily.

“Ok fine,” the normal guy finally says. “If you’re sure.”

The blue alien nods, turning back to face Yunho.

“Hi,” he says with a smile that makes his eyes disappear. “We didn’t exactly start off on the right foot. My name is San.”

Yunho blinks at him, definitely not expecting a formal introduction.

“Hey,” he says after a moment. “I’m Yunho.”

“Nice to meet you, Yunho,” San tells him.

He pauses for a moment, clearly waiting for the other guy to say something. When he doesn’t, San elbows him in the side.

“Oh right,” he says quickly. “I’m Wooyoung.”

Yunho nods, murmuring some kind of acknowledgement.

“Where are we?” he asks, gesturing vaguely around the room.

Wooyoung and San look at each other for a long moment, clearly having some kind of nonverbal discussion.

“Probably better to just show him,” San says.

Wooyoung nods, making the plant on his head sway slightly.

“C’mon then,” he says, beckoning Yunho.

Yunho gets up off the couch, following a little ways behind as San and Wooyoung cross the cluttered floor, heading for what appears to be a trapdoor set in the floor.

Wooyoung tugs it open, revealing a ladder leading down to the ground.

Yunho doesn’t see how showing him the outside of their treehouse will answer his question at all, but he doesn’t point that out. He eyes the ladder nervously, but it seems to hold Wooyoung’s weight easily as he practically slides down the rungs.

He follows a bit slower, thankful that San waits until he’s almost at the bottom before stepping down too.

Wooyoung is waiting at the base of the ladder, and he meets Yunho’s eyes.

Instead of saying anything, he just gestures to the landscape around them.

Yunho is opening his mouth to ask a question, but finds that he can’t think of any. The tree the treehouse is in seems to be the only thing for miles, standing tall on the top of a slight hill. The land is gently rolling, fields of grass extending for what feels like forever.

A distant mountain range completes the feeling of stepping into a painting, smudges of snow decorating the peaks. Yunho gapes at the scene, awed to some extent by the natural beauty, but much more dumbfounded by the lack of anything modern.

There’s nothing; no telephone poles, no roads, no cars. There aren’t even any buildings that look remotely normal. Yunho is definitely excluding what might be a village off in the distance; he is very sure none of it will look like it’s supposed to.

This isn’t home, he thinks distantly. It can’t be; he’s very sure there isn’t anywhere on the planet this remote and untouched.

That’s not even considering Wooyoung, who has a plant growing out of his head, and San, who is blue.

“Where is this?” he asks slowly, turning to look at Wooyoung.

He grins proudly, puffing out his chest a bit.

“You’re in our world,” he says with a grin. “Pretty cool, isn’t it?”

#doodle doo #ateez #ateez at au #jeong yunho #yunho #choi san #choi jongho #jongho #san ateez #ateez san #thank you Nnn for writing this! I love it sm

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annie-bby · 1 year

Note

Maybe it's me now requesting something :) Well your not on season 12 of Grey's yet, so I thought to Jackson or Mark, you can choose

Prompt: “this is what we’ve been waiting for”

Take all the time you need bestie <3

can’t help falling inlove with you

summary : mark and y/n wanted nothing more than to have a family, and when it finally happens, mark is overjoyed.

pairing(s) : mark sloan x fem!reader (reader is pregnant, has periods)

content warning : pregnancy trope, mentions of failing to get pregnant, tooth rotting fluff, slight angst?

a/n : ughhhh i’m so sorry for not posting, this is sort of short and a bit shitty tbh… i hope you like it anyway! i decided to write for mark first, and i’ll make sure i write for jackson sometime soon as wel with the same trope <3 thank you for requesting.

it was no secret that mark sloan wanted a family. other than being a great surgeon, having about three or four children with the person he loves in a great home with a few pets was all he ever wanted.

mark met you in joe’s bar, not long after he moved to seattle. you were moping about just having broken up with your long term boyfriend and he knew just how to cheer you up.

a few dates later and you had officially became boyfriend and girlfriend, and now, a two years later, you’re sitting in your bathroom staring at a positive pregnancy test.

you and mark had been struggling to get pregnant for about six months now, so this was like a light at the end of the tunnel. a spark of hope shot through you and you couldn’t wait to tell your boyfriend the happy news.

you were snapped out of your thoughts when the front door to your shared apartment shut, and mark’s half-serious, half-joking voice yelled “honey, i’m home!”

the line made you chuckle as you ran out the master bedroom and down the hall into his arms.

“woah, someone’s happy to see me,” mark teased, only making you hold onto him tighter. “you alright, baby?”

he placed you down onto the beige, fluffy carpet and you cleared your throat, opening your mouth yet no words came out. mark waited patiently for you to say something, slowly peeling his coat and shoes off and placing them on the racks next to the front door.

“i have something to show you that i think you’ll like.” you said, shuffling carefully on your feet nervously as he nodded, waiting for you to continue. you didn’t know why a sudden wave of nerves hit you, you knew mark would be excited.

“i’m pregnant.”

“really?” his eyes searched yours, a need for confirmation.

“really.”

mark’s eyes lit up, and you could sense his absolute love and devotion for you and your baby.

“she’s gonna be so cute, i’m going to buy so much stuff for her. spoi-”

“she?” you raised an eyebrow.

“shut up. i’m just so ready, this is what we’ve been waiting for.”

#⤷‧₊˚ annie’s blog !!#x reader #greys anatomy #grey's anatomy #greys anatomy imagine #greys anatomy x reader #mark sloan #mark sloan x reader #mark sloan x fem!reader

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prettyboykatsuki · 8 months

Text

ROTTEN FRUIT, CHERISHED SWORD | TARTAGLIA / AJAX

✮ tags ; fem!reader, dead dove: do not eat, yandere!childe, genshin canon adjacent, stalking, force, mild depictions of violence / physical struggle, mild injury, delusion, obsession, forced intimacy (one instance, not nsfw just kissing), choking, blood (reader bites), small age gap, power imbalance / power struggle, reader is a street orphan + member of the fatui 18+

✮ wc ; 6.3k

✮ a/n ; thank you to the beloved @bitchkiss for commissioning this from me and allowing me to post!! had a lot of fun with writing it. i have a few left of my first round but i hope to open them again soon.

✮synopsis ; childe can’t tolerate the fact you’ve left. he has no intentions of letting things stay that way.

It’s the most intimate moment you’ve shared together. Childe recognizes this with a bitter sense of irony. The soft spritz of oil from a ripe orange stains his fingers, noiseless and fragrant as it tickles the back of his throat.

You’re formal to the very end. You’re standing across from him, between you his desk (though it feels like miles) with your badge sat on the glazed cherry wood. Spick and span, so shiny it borders dazzling even though you’ve been wearing since you started so many years ago. Like you’ve taken care of it with honor, even though it’s not much more than a carved hunk of metal.

You bow your head first, then give the Fatui salute in a well-practiced steady motion. Childe keeps peeling the orange. Childe looks down at the desk and stares indignantly at your badge. 6 years together, and you’re leaving him.

He clenches his jaw, and he can feel some of the blood in his veins make his nerves throb.

“Thank you for everything, Captain,” Your voice is smooth as you speak, not a hint of devastation in it “From today on, I will no longer be serving the Fatui Harbingers.”

He finishes peeling his orange and discards the peel in a nearby bin, before sitting on the edge of his desk. He blinks, feeds himself a slice of fruit, chews and swallows before talking. He’s worked hard. It calms his nerves to go through each gesture slowly. He shouldn’t ruin it like this, even though the anger building inside him stokes every time you talk.

“Pierro has approved your dismissal?”

“Yes, Captain. Due to my great contribution to the Fatui and my involvement in the early seize of Snezhnaya, I’ve been permitted permission to depart.” You repeat, still not lifting your eyes to look directly at him. You’re focused on his steel-toed boots, a mark of your life as a soldier “I’ll be issued a new identity and sent somewhere overseas.”

“And what do you plan on doing once you leave?”

“I’m hoping to look for my master.”

“You mean the man who taught you the sword?”

“Yes, Sir,” You reply, voice softening. How agitating it is you hold so much affection for that worthless old man “I owe him a great deal. I’d like to contribute something of my savings towards his living expenses,”

“Well aren’t you loyal? I commend your efforts to be searching for him so many years later. Any leads?”

“No Captain, none,” You say, and then another wave of emotion passes through you “But if my memory serves me, he’d be living somewhere in the jungles of Sumeru.”

“What an odd change of pace,”

“He never liked the cold in Snezhnaya.”

Childe gives you a tight lipped smile that you don’t catch since you’re still looking down. He sighs, words muffled as he eats another slice and clicks his teeth.

“Still so impersonal with me,” He chastises, pushing his bottom lip out in a frustrated pout “After all we’ve been through together. Lift your chin up, at least?”

This is the only thing that gets you to look at him. You do as he asks without hesitation - not out of submission but loyalty. Your smile is small, humble, thankful. Childe feels strange looking at it. Your usual coolness fades, tapers itself into a warm and graceful set of features. It’s worn.

Your joy is weathered and battered, bruised by countless atrocities.

In more ways than one, it’s the thing Childe loves most about you.

Childe knows the details of how you’re stained. Like a toddlers plush toy that goes everywhere with them, it is easy to tell that something has happened to you. But, to be loved is to be changed, isn’t it? There’s nothing wrong with being different. So long as it’s him making you different. So long as he’s the one who orchestrates it, enough to bend but never enough to break. Childe knows you. It’s the job of a captain to train his soldiers. It makes his feelings towards you more potent, how well you can endure even the worst of it. You’re not timid, not fearful.

Your eyes are as crystal clear with honesty as they were the day you met.

Even bruised, even anguished, even tortured - there is something about you—so stark in your earnesty. You remind Childe of the fireflies he’d seen in the lands of Sumeru some time ago. To keep you in a tight glass, sealed off from flying far from his reach. The brightness that seems to surround you makes him reach for you even in the bitter dark. He’d never want to suffocate you so he pokes holes in the lids. Lets you breathe, lets you see the world outside of glass.

If a firefly spends enough time in captivity, glass walls can become religion. A widely accepted belief, indoctrinated certainly. There’s something to see but nowhere to go. That’s always what he wanted you to believe.

Had it all been for nothing in the end? The thought is sour, makes his mouth tighten like he’s swallowed rotten fruit.

“Sorry, Sir. Force of habit. I really am very grateful to have met you. You’ve saved my life more times than I can count.”

“And yet you abandon me like this. I’m really hurt, you know? Didn’t what we had mean something to you?”

You crack a pleasant smile - it’s a rare right, and it’s always genuine. You’re usually icier than the blizzards in Snezhnaya, the same neutral expression has stayed on your face for as long as he’s known you. You’ve been like that since you were 17. Back then you were much more hardened. He doesn’t blame you. A street urchin, robbing and stealing for food and shelter. Childe knows the story like the back of his hand.

When you met for the first time - your hair was cut short and your clothes were so baggy. It was impossible to tell back that you were a person, no less a woman - you felt like one entangled body of anger.

The Tsaritsa would’ve killed you had you not shown such great prowess. Underneath all the filth was a vision. A vision of Anemo, and incredible precision in wielding the ways of wind.

You’d gained useful skills during your time on the streets. But you were unpolished and violent. The Fatui watched you like a storm cloud lingering over the horizon. A typhoon waiting to swallow the world the minute you had the chance.

Back then, Childe wasn’t fascinated with you in the way he is now. You were just a brat he had to train. Pierro had put you into his possession on the basis of Childe’s cruelty. It was an endurance test and Childe had always believed you would fail. He’d put you through countless trials, each one more merciless than the last. Your expression never faltered, never changed, never suffered.

The first time Childe noticed you was after the death of your comrade. You were 18 then and it was the first time you’d ever lost someone you’d been attached to. The expression you wore - rough, hard, emotionless, crumbled into pieces in front of him. You cried at a shallow grave, the first and last time he’d ever seen such an expression in his life. Back then, he only comforted you out of curiosity. What exactly would you do?

But you braved your face. Despite all he’d put you through, you bore no resentment towards him at all. You’d wiped the tears off of your expression and looked at him solemnly. Silent but thankful and terribly honest.

It’s that honesty that drew him towards you.

You were angry, sure - but your righteousness made you different. Unlike the many street rats lurking in the Fatui, driven by money or greed - you were driven by simple things. You hated owing favors. You could be polished into something beautiful. Something interesting, more so than the rest of Fatui goons that flitted around him like gnats.

He’d spent the last 6 years doing just that. Not always intentionally, but always careful.

You’ve grown into something beautiful - poised while being unruly. A mortal paradox that he’s grown to be more fascinated by each passing year. He’s taken time to know the things that make you tick.

Yet you're leaving. He didn’t chain you by the neck fast enough in his attempts to be careful and now you’ve taken your own leash and walked right out of his grip. A shame. Childe is really so hurt by such a thing.

He doesn’t let it show on his face of course. You’ll be remorseful if you see him, but the pity won’t soothe his feelings this time. He has to remain calm so he puts on this delightful act to hide the hurt.

“I suppose you do mean a lot to me, Captain. In a different way.”

“Well,” He steps towards you, but you don’t back away. The proximity, strangely, doesn’t bother you. You are only this permissive towards him, and he counts it as a minor celestial blessing. He doesn’t know if you trust him that much or if you are simply naive. Maybe both. Maybe neither

“What way is that, pray tell? Maybe it will soothe my sorrows.”

“Well, you’re the only person I truly knew and admired. If that counts for anything,” You flush when you tell him this “My master was a great man but all things considered he was more like a father. But I really think very highly of you and your abilities, Sir.”

“What a nice girl you’ve become.” He says back, just to see the startled flush on your features “Isn’t that something?”

You make a face at him, displeased. It almost distracts him from how irritated he feels when he remembers why you started with this conversation in the first place.

“You talk about me like I’m a kid,” You show him just the slightest bit of attitude. It’s a step in the right direction, sends a chill up Childe’s back that he doesn’t dislike in the slightest “I’m all grown up alright? Don’t look down on me.”

He gasps in faux offense “I would never. It’s strange, you know? You’ve changed a lot. I don’t hate it though,” He gives you a once over - hands you a slice of orange. You lean down and grab it with your teeth, chewing and swallowing.

It’s those little acts of naivety that draw him to you most.

“When are you meant to depart, my dear subordinate?”

“Probably within the week,” Your voice is just a touch somber. “After I’ve got everything moved, this may very well be the last time we see each other.”

“It’s a shame then, really. I would’ve preferred being your comrade for much longer than this.”

“We’ll always be comrades, Captain.” You salute him one more time, this time with a smile “I’ll never be able to forget you.”

“You’d better not.” He says with a deep sigh, making you laugh.

Yes, it’s not as if Childe was ever really going to let you.

You disappear from his sight in an instant.

The first few weeks after your absence, Childe buries himself in his work. Pierro praises him for his sudden loyalty to the harbingers - but carrying orders is the only way he can work out his frustration without taking it out on civilians.

He plans from the day you leave to find you eventually. But he knows from the start it’ll be no easy feat. The nature of the business is that relocations are hard to come by and top-secret. If someone is to relocate and change their identity, no one in the Fatui knows where they end up. The only person who’s informed about the drop off locations is Pierro, and it’s not like he’s going to hand that information to Childe regardless.

But that’s different from knowing exactly where you’ve relocated. You’re a smart girl - too clever and too familiar with the Fatui to let them handle something of such importance. Your agreement was this: new money, new documents, new identity - but re-establishing your life would be completely and totally up to you. It makes sense. You’ve gained an incredulous amount of enemies in your time working in Childe’s care - and the matter of relocation is a delicate one. Most of the Fatui are deeply hated across Teyvat.

You’d have to relocate somewhere small where you can make use of your skills or survive on your own. If Childe knows you at all, you would’ve chosen the latter. A self-sustained life where you don’t have to depend on anyone unnecessarily suits you well. After all the blood and gore you bore witness too, isolation was like a second skin.

From the minute you disappear from his line of vision - Childe thinks about finding you. He thinks about what he’ll have to do to make it reality, and what will happen when he does. The minute you’re within his reach, he won’t be foolish enough to let you go again.

There won’t be any concerns about morals or abuse of power - this time, Childe will possess you completely.

Pierro tells Childe: There's a recruitment mission, it will take up to a year and you’ll be traveling all over the world to carry out various orders.

It’s bait. Pierro just wants Childe to get his hands dirty, and he knows that the 11th won’t be able to resist the temptation of finding you. Childe agrees despite knowing this. There is no order he can’t fulfill, no thing he can’t commit too - if it means there’s any chance to find you again.

If it’s for you, he can do anything.

___

For months, Childe soaks his hands in blood trying to find you.

Cheap intel is easy to come by but reliable intel is not.

His first mission in Mondstat. A small nation and one of peace - it’s difficult to stir up any trouble there when Diluc is around. Childe does his best to steer clear of him, since there’s no group the Dark Knight detests so much as the Fatui.

Recruitment in a small, quiet nation happens in slums. Orphanages are prime for this endeavor. A proxy pays a fee for adoption prices and word of the Fatui spreads through the darker corners of the city. Once the word of their presence spreads far enough, another message follows. The Fatui will pay greatly for intel. They’re looking for a woman in her early 20’s. If the information proves reliable, you’ll be paid a hefty sum.

Mondstadt, the city of peace, lives up to its name. The Fatui occupation of the slums doesn’t disrupt anything in the local government. It’s inline with Pierros orders. There’s something important about the city according to the Tsaritsa.

Of course - none of this is especially important to Childe. Once his role has been fulfilled, every minute is spent chasing leads and following trails to whichever path leads to you. It’s a compulsion. Each time he receives a knock on his office door, he feels his pulse rise all the way into his throat. He knows objectively that most leads are worthless - that people are simply trying to squeeze money from the Fatui in order to survive.

The piercing, celestial anger doesn’t settle with all the objectivity in the world. No amount of searching seems to lead back to you and his patience is already dangerously thin.

Of course Childe knew embarking on this endeavor would not be fruitful all at once.

Your speciality had been stealth from the beginning. If anyone knew how to disappear into thin air - Childe would first think of you. It doesn’t soothe him. Knowing it will be difficult to find you, and knowing especially that you don’t want to be found - none of it soothes the bone deep ache for you. Each night he carves the desire out of him, it won’t help him in his journey to carry.

But each morning, there’s a bruising sensation in his ribs that reminds him of the wound process. Each night he bore the injury of loss and there is nowhere for him to find evidence of it happening. Only the aftermath, and more pitiful breadcrumbs that he tries to trace back to you.

Childe chases the tail light of a firefly across every corner of Mondstadt. He turns over each chipped brick of dilapidated buildings, hunts down every one who even knows your name or any of your features. He rifles through cheap shot intel and thins out the swarm of greedy idiots through beatings.

Among the cheap dirty tricks, he finds one lead. From a child, no less - a boy who isn’t any older than 13.

In his office, two Fatui drag in a pair of siblings.

“I know who you’re looking for,” He says, slow and careful - on guard. There’s a little girl trembling behind him, shaking like a leaf. A big brother, through and through “I have proof.”

Childe takes interest immediately. This little boy reminds him of you, crystal clear eyes. Truthful. Childe leans on the edge of his desk.

“Proof? What, like a picture?”

“N-no,” He swallows. He reaches for something inside of his cloak, and the guards immediately stand to attention. Childe puts his hand up telling them to stand down. When there’s no longer any threat, the boy pulls something out of his pocket. A piece of paper with something drawn on it, and a coin within it.

Ah. The paper bears your signature, and the coin is yours too. To be more clear, it’s a coin relocated agents are permitted to carry once they depart. It’s a signature of honorable dismissal, and a promise from the Tsartisa guaranteeing your protection in case of more Fatui encroachment on the land. There’s an honor system. It’s rare that dismissal even happens given the nature of the organization. Agents with outstanding records get three total.

Childe can hardly believe it. But he does, because it’s you - and it’s something you would do. It’s not like a 13 year old boy would be able to coerce it out of you. It’s yours. You gave it to him.

Childe grips the coin into his hand. There’s a lingering presence. He closes his fist around the metal, paper crumpling underneath before kissing his closed fist.

“When,” He takes in a sharp breath “When did you receive this?”

“A few weeks ago,” He replies, visibly relaxed now that Childe seems to recognize its legitimacy “She s-stayed with me and my sister for a while. And protected us. Nobody messes with us anymore. She s-said that if the Fatui come, to give them this and they won’t bother us.”

“And you’re trading it in for money, you precocious brat?” Childe says with no real malice in his voice. The kid stiffens, but he can only laugh in reply “Well, I’ll respect the young lady's wishes. I like kids, after all.”

Childe makes eye contact with his underlings, and they salute him.

“Give them as much money as they ask for. And issue them another coin, but make sure it’s one of mine. I’ll be keeping this one,”

They speak in tandem “Yes, Captain.”

“You should be very grateful, kid.” Childe says, reaching his hand out. He’s in a good mood, hands patting the heads of both kids.

“You’ve experienced something truly invaluable, and it’s brought you great fortune. Go give prayer to your Archon for the blessing”

He traces your steps back to Liyue. He only knows this after interrogating those kids for a long while. Liyue is the easiest route to Sumeru, so Childe mostly works on a hunch.

He likes Liyue. It’s easy enough to recruit there since the Fatui already have a foot in the door, and beyond that - the citizens are warm if you’re respectful.

“Excuse me, maam,” Childe waves a hand at the woman working at the fruit stand near the harbor. An older woman and Liyue local, with gray hair and warm eyes “Would it be alright if I asked you some questions?”

The woman pauses from her task, squinting her eyes momentarily before humming.

“Sure, sonny, I don’t see why not,” She replies, continuing on with her work “Are you a foreigner?”

“Yes, ma’am I am. And I’m looking for someone who I heard passed through here recently.”

“Oh? Who’re you looking for?”

“A young lady. Early 20’s. A bit rough and about ye high,” He says, vaguely gesturing to your height. He gives a little bit more detail on your features and the woman listens to him carefully before her eyes widen with realization “Sound familiar?”

“Oh, her!” The woman smiles, sitting behind her set up with a knife in hand. She grabs a melon from her stall, balancing it on a cutting board. She wets her knife with water and wipes it, the reflective metal shining in Childe’s eyes as it goes through the fruit in one solid push. “Yes. She stayed here for weeks, though I don’t have any idea where. She came in every morning to buy something from me.”

“Could you tell me a little more about it?” Childe urges, trying to mask the desperation to know in his voice. The old lady hums pleasantly “Anything about her or where she might be headed?”

“Well, she said something about Sumeru,” The old lady relays, cutting the melon into thin slices - ripe and sweet “She had thought about visiting Fontaine, but decided on just Sumeru for now. Said she was looking for her Father. How do you know that young lady, might I ask?”

“A friend from childhood,” Childe relays, a half truth and lie of omission. He dawns an expression of embarrassment and sincerity. “I’ve been looking for her all of my life.”

“Well, aren’t you quite the romantic? Was she your first love, dear boy?”

“Yes. Something like that. I had heard she was in Mondstat and then she came here, but it seems like I keep missing her. And I don’t want to lose sight of her again, after all we’ve been through.”

The old woman's features soften, as she holds out a piece of fruit for Childe to take. He accepts, taking it graciously and with a soft word of thanks.

“To be young again would be a gift indeed,” She sighs wistfully “I admire your tenacious spirit. I’m sure you get a little closer to finding her each time you search. If it’s meant to be, I’m sure you will.”

Childe takes a bite of melon. It’s rich, mostly sweet and the slightest bit sour. The juice dribbles down his chin, and coats his mouth with the not-quite satisfaction. Sweet, but not sweet enough. Close but not close enough.

“Did she mention anything else?” He asks, wondering for more details “Or leave anything behind?”

“You sound like you miss her,” She says brightly before shaking her “Forgive my memory. The only thing I can remember was that she was preparing to settle down. She took seeds and supplies with her. After that, I didn’t see her again.”

“How unfortunate. But if she plans to be in Sumeru, then it seems like I have to go find her there,”

“You won’t be staying here long then, young man?”

Childe reaches the last of his slice, wiping his mouth with the back of a gloved hand.

“I don’t think so. But I’ll return someday. And if I find her, well,” He gives her a smile, picking a peach off of the stand and dropping a bag of Mora on the table “I’ll make sure we both come and thank you.”

Sumeru is Snezhnaya’s opposite.

In composition, in sight, in taste and in sound. The sweltering heat of the jungle, the plush of green, the wildlife that lays among the thickets. In all the ways that Snezhnaya is cold and precise, Sumeru is warm and bleeding. Each corner of the great nation bleeds into self. Culture bleeds into art and art bleeds into politics and everything is threaded together like vines of ivy through metal grates.

They are foreign lands to Childe. He’s spent his time across the world in other nations, but not Sumeru. The other Harbingers occupied it for years before Childe had the chance - and he does his very best to not trifle into Dottore’s territory.

(There is memory of another harbinger, like the faintest whisper of a ghost.)

But he can’t be sure of that. All he knows is that it’s his first time spending any time there for longer than a few days. It’s his first time there on a mission, to spend time among its people and make deals with the other mercenaries that roam both the desert and forest.

The Fatui are not particularly fond of the Eremites. Unlike other groups, there is no easy way to subordinate them. There are more intricate hierarchies and laws among them, laws of survival that do not cross over well to the Fatui. The Eremites have an honor system that many Fatui find foreign.

It’s not impossible to find common ground - but it’s difficult. If they are to stumble upon the wrong group of Eremites, they could very well end up in a losing battle. Sand is much like snow. If you don’t tread carefully, if you aren’t prepared - one step could leave you buried beneath soil before you could think twice.

There is one thing that both Eremite and Fatui bastards share completely, and that is greed for power and wealth.

Recruitment in the Sumeru region is difficult. But any information can be found if your pockets are heavy enough. They’re an efficient bunch since they don’t require much training.

Childe will have to look at his own books later. How much time, money, manpower he’s allocated in his relentless search for you. How many mountains he’s climbed, how many fights he’s gotten into, how much trouble it’s been. Mora is nothing, but altogether - your disappearance has cost a hefty price.

Still, you were telling the truth - as was the Eremite who found your new location, and the woman in Liyue who sold you fruit and the orphan boy who held your signature.

A trail of your very own light, the feeling of a cool breeze - everything that Childe has worked for has ultimately led him back to you in the bleedings lands of Sumeru.

A few weeks ago, he received new intel from an Eremite he’d recruited at the beginning of their stay. A 17-yr boy with a gift for the sword that had no particular loyalty to any other group of Eremites. A capable loner. Childe’s mission was simple -

(“There’s a woman you must find.

If you find her, I’ll give you anything you please.”)

Like a miracle, in 3 weeks time - the same recruit had returned to Tartaglia’s door with a photo of you.

(“You…you found her.” Childe mutters. He’s overwhelmed with too many emotions for anyone to show on his face. “Where?”

“In the jungle.” The boy says, voice cool and neutral “It looks like she built a shelter for herself and stays there. She wasn’t anywhere near the city,”

“No wonder it’s been so difficult to find you.” Childe mutters to himself before looking back up again “Can you lead me there?”

The boy rifles in his bag for something. A parchment paper that unravels to be a map with a line drawn on it.

“I thought this would be easier.”

Childe holds the paper in utter disbelief, staring at the line draw. A path forward to you.)

Last night, he departed alone into the jungles and followed the path carefully. The map was well marked with rest points and stops, and it wasn’t difficult to trek it once he was outside of the city. He’d gone alone with nothing but the clothes on his back. Eager and impatient, restless to find an oasis in the desert that has been draining the life out of him since he’d arrived.

Childe finds you at dawn. The sun has to rise completely but the world is lit, soft blue encasing it like a blanket. Off the beaten path is a cottage - a shelter built from jungle wood with a small animal coop and a garden. There’s a single light on in the kitchen, and enough windows for him to see what’s inside.

Many things overwhelm him once he catches the light on your face. You must’ve been awake for a while, because there’s no sleep left on your expression. Nothing but clarity, brightness, familiarity that Childe must’ve been searching for months now, maybe half a year.

The world feels like it’s stopped moving for him to take a step forward. It’s dark enough that a firefly draws past him, and Childe feels his body move nearly against his will.

He walks through the mud, through the dirt and grass - following the path to your door until he’s towering in front of it. He stands at the wood for a long, long while - in silent contemplation, before a sick sense of joy flutters through him.

A sense of sickness that parades around in his mind. Almost childlike. It’s been a long game of hide and seek, but Childe has finally found you.

He knocks on the door, lets each hit ring before he stops. And he waits.

You open the door without questioning it. Perhaps there’s someone from in town who visits you often enough that you don’t think to question it. Either way, you open it.

And when your eyes land on Childe’s expression, everything shifts.

He can practically feel the immediate apprehension. The confusion that you can’t make sense of, the feeling of bitter dread. Childe knows you like the back of your hand. Knows every little detail of your discomfort. You’re more confused than you are concerned for now, and your eyes are brilliantly honest like they’ve been from the start.

He’s giddy. The pure sense of euphoria is entangled so deeply with months worth or frustration, and he’s wound so tight he can’t help but grin down at you. You blink at him.

“Captain?”

“Comrade,” He says, voice a touch light “How have you been?”

He doesn’t offer you any more explanation than that. You stare at him and he stares back, greedily at the sight of you. He’s missed you, really - missed everything about you so much it feels like some part of him is ticking, preparing to detonate. You step back and Childe nearly steps with you.

He’s worried it will scare you off, so he refrains.

“What are you doing here, Captain?”

“Well,” He says first, contemplative “It’s a long story. Could I come in first?”

“Oh, of course,” You reply, because you presume it’s something important. You trust him enough to let him “Please, come in.”

So he invites himself in. You direct him to a small dining table with two wooden chairs. There’s sliced Zaytun peaches sitting on a ceramic plate. You pour Childe a glass of water hospitably, before sitting across from him with a look of concern. It’s easy to tell what you’re thinking - that there must’ve been some reason for him to come find you and that it must be important. You’re waiting for him to tell you that and soothe his nerves.

But being with you now, he finds he harbors no such desire. He eats a peach off of the plate in front of him. They’re sweet to the point it makes his teeth hurt.

He gives you a stare as you look back at him, and the two of you sit in uncomfortable silence.

“I’m glad I finally found you,” He says conversationally, looking down at his hands as he speaks “You didn’t make it easy, you know?”

“...You were looking for me?”

“Looked all across Teyvat for clues. I expected that, though. You were always good at disappearing when no one was around to see, comrade and I admired that about you,” Childe says with a sigh, shaking his head “I was very devastated to see you leave,”

“So you went searching for me? Why?”

He laughs hard as you ask him that, he almost can’t help it.

“Well, that’s the thing,” He says, taking another piece of fruit. Relishing the sweetness, almost as warming as the sudden proximity between you two “After all the years I’d spent crafting you into an excellent soldier, I thought it’d be a shame to let you disappear,”

He looks at you. Watches as your face changes.

“All those times I’d saved you, been a mentor towards you, taught and trained you. I’ve watched over you for so long and cared for you so fondly, and you disappeared just like that. I try not to be too bothered by things,” Childe laments, leaning back in the wood chair “I’m a patient man, for the most part. I’m an older brother, so I’ve always tried to be responsible. But there are some things I like to keep for myself,”

“...Captain, what are you talking about?”

Childe stands to his feet and walks over to you. The feeling of fear starts to build in you, mild but present in your vague tremble. You falter. He can tell from the way you stand. You must feel that something is wrong and your eyes show your distrust. Childe can’t stop peering into them, can’t stop searching for your every feeling wishing to pull them out of you and examine them.

He pulls away the chair behind you, letting it fall to the floor. He backs into you slowly, into the wall behind you where you stand underneath him. You’re afraid - tense, but not unwilling to fight.

“Did you think,” He whispers, voice filled with satisfaction “That every time I saved you was a coincidence?”

He stares down at you. Your eyes widen.

“I was just so fascinated. You can be really innocent sometimes, it's just adorable. But you’re also extremely direct and brutal. Naive but also completely trusting. I’ve never met a ruthless mercenary who was so forgiving.” Childe reaches for a piece of your hair, bringing it so carefully to his lips “I’ve come to love that about you. I just wanted to see if you could really endure all that. And you did beautifully. Really.”

“What the fuck are you saying?”

“When Valentin and Ilya died, you came back so crushed but your eyes,” Childe says, peering into them - hand reaching up to your cheek. You try to push him back. He feels the force in it - but he’s stronger than you by a lot where it matters “These eyes stayed the same. Clear and bright. A gaze that only spoke truth. It was mesmerizing. I’ve always been fond of beautiful things.” He says wistfully.

You push back. Your strong enough that Childe can feel the weight of you movements as you try to get away from him. You think of many clever moves, like going underneath him. You’re quick but he’s quicker. He pins you against the wall, cages you in with his body - his legs locks yours so you can’t use your knees. He traps you, just like he always wanted too.

It feels better than he could’ve pictured.

“I didn’t plan for them to die so brutally,” Childe begins, his voice against your ear. He can feel how your heart races through your skin, the painful pulse of each of your nerves as anger torrents inside of you. “I knew they were underskilled. I thought they’d only come back injured, but I was wrong. Torn to bits right in front of you. When you came back I thought you were completely broken but,”

He looks down at you, and you look up. There is burning, violent hatred in your unchanging gaze. He smiles at you affectionately, and it jars you enough that your own face changes in response.

“You looked at me with this same expression. Melancholy but crystal clear. You can’t help it can you? Not in the slightest. Time and time again, you came back and suffered tremendously but that never changed about you,” Childe whispers against your skin. Lets his lips brush against your neck, and your bare shoulder. He feels your body move hard trying to get him off of you, but you remain in place “One day, you’d get exhausted. And when that happened, I would help you. Take you into my own care. You could do whatever you wanted as long as you were with me. That was the vague inclination”

“You sick bastard.”

“But you ran,” Childe says. He releases you momentarily, trades his body in for a hand around your throat. You claw at him but the pain is easy to endure. “All that effort, and you decided to disappear. I was so annoyed with that, you know? I love you after all. Enough to empty every well of resources to find you. I searched for you in every corner I could look.”

With gloved hands, Childe hooks one of his thumbs into your mouth before hooking the other one - prying your jaw open completely. It shocks you enough to render you helpless - motionless as your hand rests on his forearm. When your mouth is open, he uses one hand to keep it that way. His gloved fingers violate your mouth, thumb brushing over the ridges in your teeth. He grabs your tongue with his thumb and forefinger, pressing it slightly like he’s reprimanding you. It’s warm and hot, making a chill run up his spine.

“But I won’t make that mistake again. From here and now, I’ll make sure you never leave my side. And with you next to me,” He presses his lips to your cheek while your mouth is pried open. He can feel your teeth dig into the sliver of skin exposed from his glove, biting hard enough that it punctures and bleeds. Childe is unfazed by it, almost a little fond at how hard he can feel your canines digging into his leather gloves “From now on, everything you do should be with me at the forefront. I’m being a little selfish, but it should be alright, yes? You’ve been under my command for a longer time, so you’re used to it.”

“Captain,” Your words are muffled by his fingers in his mouth, a touch sad - a touch betrayed, but not terrified. Angry like you want to kill him. To rip him apart with your teeth but too confused to do so much as move. Not scared of him despite everything that he’s just admitted. And your eyes, of course, remain unchanged “You fucking bastard. You rotten fucking bastard, they were—”

He pulls his fingers away from your mouth, cupping your face in his hands instead. Your reaction is refreshing.

“Kiss me, won’t you?”

Your response is to bite but Childe catches your mouth anyway. He holds your chin and keeps you under him and kisses you hard. He lets his hands circle around your waist, completely ignoring all the attempts you make to run. He kisses you, and your mouth tastes like blood. His blood, mixed with the faint taste of peach. Iron and sugar, perfectly entangled in the soft, warm heat of your mouth. You kiss like a dream.

Your cold stoicism melts under the weight of your shock, and you’re so startled you give in only slightly. Childe kisses you in apology. Childe kisses you because he loves how dreadful you find it. Because no matter how much it disgusts or sickens you, he can’t help but be addicted to the feeling of your lips and skin. He’s sure the coming months will make this newly explored affection a most miserable vice.

He wraps around a hand around your throat again, teeth nipping along your cheek before kissing the indentation of his own canine. His other hand clamps around your wrists, pinning them above your head as he cages you in once again.

“I’m not an opponent you will ever be able to best unless the Archon’s themselves come to kill me,” He whispers, faint and loving as he makes sure to look you in the eyes. “So stand down, soldier - and let your Captain lead you to paradise.”

#yandere cw #violence cw #dark content cw #stalking cw #childe x reader #tartaglia x reader #genshin impact x reader #yandere childe

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purple-plum-petals · 8 months

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Hi! I love reading your works and I have a little request if you don't mind for a Jade x Reader.

I really just want a short where the reader is making their Halloween costume (a mushroom fairy) and surprises Jade with it. It'd be even cuter if the mushroom that the reader got inspiration from also happened to be a favorite of Jade's.

⊱ A Tailor-Made Coshroom ⊰ || Jade Leech X Reader

╭─━━━━━━━━━━━━─╮ Character(s): Jade Leech, Floyd Leech, Azul Ashengrotto, Grim (Twisted Wonderland) Reader Type: Human, Ramshackle Prefect (Gender-Neutral Pronouns) – Reader is mentioned to be shorter than Floyd and Jade. Warning(s): Brief Mentions of Blood, but Besides That, Nothing! I also always use the Japanese TWST Terms (Dorm Leader instead of Housewarden, Madols instead of Thaumarks, etc.) in my writing. Genre: Drabble, Fluff, Attempt at Comedy, Romantic or Platonic Relationship (It Can Technically be Read as Either since Nothing is Stated Directly, but it Does Lean More on the Romantic Side of Things) Word Count: ~1,900 words Request: “Hi! I love reading your works and I have a little request if you don't mind for a Jade x Reader. I really just want a short where the reader is making their Halloween costume (a mushroom fairy) and surprises Jade with it. It'd be even cuter if the mushroom that the reader got inspiration from also happened to be a favorite of Jade's.” Author’s Note: I’m overjoyed to hear you enjoy my works; thank you so much for reading! This ask has been sitting in my inbox for quite some time but, since spooky-season is right around the corner, I thought now would be the perfect time for me to post this. I’ve been lacking a lot of motivation when it comes to writing as of late, but I’m hoping I can pump out at least one request every week from now on until my inbox is cleared out. I actually started my Master’s program, so hopefully I’ll have time to be able to write for enjoyment rather than just for academics. 😅 I hope this is alright; I have to admit, I’m a bit rusty haha. (Also, just a PSA, the ending is supposed to be cute I swear – it’s just Jade acting a little more childish like Floyd and was not intended to be creepy! I didn’t want this to get too long since it was supposed to be a shorter piece, but I had no idea where to end it. 😔) Also, yes, the title is a pun on costume/mushroom – yes, I couldn’t think of another title.

→ If you enjoyed my work, please reblog it if you can! Exposure on Tumblr is based on reblogging content rather than liking it, so your support would be much appreciated! ♡ ╰─━━━━━━━━━━━━─╯

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆

Halloween was inching closer and closer by the day and you didn’t have much more time to complete your costume. So, as soon as you were finished with class for the day, you immediately returned to Ramshackle, cooping yourself up in your room until it was time to make you and Grim dinner. You had been working non-stop on your costume for the past week or so, powering through the many times you’ve pricked your finger with your accursed sewing needle. You couldn’t even count the numerous occasions that Grim or the ghosts had to help bandage your hands up after all your slip-ups at this point.

You had come up with an idea nearly a month ago and wanted to make it a reality with your own two hands – this year for Halloween, you would be a mushroom fairy! You had thought the idea was pretty cute, plus it was a simple enough costume to make considering all the DIY videos you could find on the internet. While it most certainly wouldn’t be unique by any means, hopefully your classmates would be able to appreciate the work you had put into it.

Your costume was based on the Fly Agaric mushroom, also known as Amanita Muscaria, simply because it was an iconic mushroom with its recognizable red-and-white-dotted cap. It was also one of your upperclassmen’s favorite species of mushroom, but that wasn’t the reason why you chose it – it was just a coincidence, you swear.

Right now, you were currently finishing up your mushroom cap, sewing on a few final details into the red fabric considering Halloween was now only two days away at this point. You were certainly excited to be able to show off your costume to your friends, and you were hoping you’d get a genuine reaction out of the previously-mentioned upperclassman. After about another twenty minutes, you had completed adding all of the small white beads to your hat. With a wide smile, you held your costume out in front of you. It was finally ready, and you couldn’t wait to see what everyone thought of it at the party.

Before you knew it, it was finally Halloween and – after weeks of hard work and bloody fingertips – you were finally able to wear your costume! You already had gotten quite a few compliments from some of your friends, but you had a specific upperclassman in mind you knew would absolutely love what you were wearing. You were currently scanning the room to see if you could find him, trying to spot his signature teal hair among the large body of students. It shouldn’t be too hard to find him considering how tall he was, but you ended up finding his brother before you could him.

“Hey Floyd! Happy Halloween!” You said with a smile, making your way over to one of the school’s biggest menaces. Floyd’s face seemed to light up when he saw you, a bright yet somewhat intimidating grin spreading across his features.

His sharp teeth were at full display as he made his way over to you, waving as he said in a sing-song tone, “Shrimpy~, there you a–!” However, once he seemed to register your costume, his smile immediately faded as he questioned with a slight scowl, “…What are you wearing?”

“I’m a mushroom fairy! Pretty cute, right?” You told him in return, pride filling your chest as you gestured towards your outfit.

“Ew, no – mushrooms are gross.” Floyd said with a grimace, looking almost disappointed with you.

“What? No they’re not! They’re absolutely adorable!” You told him in return, placing your hands on your hips as you stood your ground.

“Ugh – you’ve been hangin’ out with Jade too much. He’s a bad influence on you.” Floyd said, coming over and placing his arm on your shoulder as he leaned into you with his taller form. He had the habit of using you like an armrest every now and again, a habit that he had picked up months ago at this point.

“Arguably, I think you’re a worse influence.” You said with a slight huff, trying to keep yourself balanced considering you had a giant leaning against you. You moved the hat on your head out of the way so you could glance up at Floyd, asking him, “Where is your brother, by the way? I’ve been looking all over for him.”

“Last time I saw him, he was with Azul by the food table.” Floyd said, glancing down at you in return. However, once your eyes met, a wide smirk began growing on his face. As he poked your cheek slightly with his index finger, he asked teasingly, “Why, you wanna show him your adorable costume? Ehehehe, you’re getting bold, Shrimpy.”

“You know what? I think I’m done with this conversation.” You bluntly stated, quickly removing yourself from under his weight as Floyd laughed out loud at your slightly flushed face; you didn’t get why he liked teasing you so much. He didn’t seem fazed by it at all by your sudden movement either, immediately returning to his usual posture as though he hadn’t been putting all of his weight on you just mere moments ago.

“Good luck~ – I’m rooting for you!” Floyd said with a shit-eating grin, waving to you as you left that conversation before he could embarrass you any further.

You weaved in and out of the sea of your classmates, looking for the food table since that was the only lead you had to go off of. You knew you probably had all night to show your costume to Jade who was arguably the person who would appreciate it the most, but a part of you just wanted to show him now. Thankfully, as the snack table came into view, you saw both Jade and Azul who seemed to be talking with one another. Azul was drinking what seemed to be fruit punch, a slight scowl on his face as he glared down at the cup in his hand, while Jade seemed absolutely delighted by his companion’s utter look of distaste.

“Note to self,” You thought, “Don’t try the punch.”

Now was the perfect opportunity for a scare, though, so you tried to make yourself as small as possible which was honestly quite difficult given the size of your hat. You slowly closed in on Azul and Jade, the former seeming to notice your presence but deciding not to say anything as you snuck up beside Jade, jumping up slightly as you exclaimed, “Boo!”

“Ah, Prefect, it’s nice to see y–…” Jade said with a smile as he turned slightly to look at you, his words tapering off as soon as you two made eye contact.

You grinned up at both of them, saying happily, “Happy Halloween you two!”

“Yes, happy Halloween to you as well.” Azul said, throwing his cup of punch into a nearby trash can as he asked you with a slight smirk, “Not going to say ‘trick or treat’ to me again this year, hmm?”

“Nope – I think I learned my lesson from last year… but, if you happen to have any treats you’d like to give out, I’ll happily take some!” You said with a smile, watching as Azul pushed his glasses back up the bridge of his nose. Jade was still looking at you, not having said anything besides his unfinished greeting.

One of Azul’s brows rose in question as he asked, crossing his arms over his chest as he looked at you as if you had grown a second head, “Since when did I become someone who just gives out things?”

“Since we became friends, duh – friends do nice things for friends, no strings attached!” You told him honestly; after all, you considered the three most terrifying influential members of the Octavinelle dorm to be your friends. While you definitely did not have the best start with any of them, you really didn’t have a lot of good first impressions (or experiences) with any of your friends at NRC. Somehow throughout the past year, though, you had grown to be quite close with the octo-trio.

He seemed to think for a moment, glancing over at Jade before smiling and muttering slightly, “Hmm… I have an idea of something nice I could do for both of you, then.” He then suddenly began to walk away, waving slightly as he departed as he spoke, “I’ll talk to you later if we run into each other again – have fun, Prefect.”

“Oh, uh… you too?” You managed to say, waving to him as well despite how confused you were at the whole situation. Why did he just leave? How exactly was ditching in the middle of your conversation doing something nice?? You know, sometimes Azul was just as much an enigma as the twins were.

“Well, that was kind of weird…” You muttered to yourself before returning all of your attention to Jade, smiling up at him as you gestured towards your attire, “So, what do you think about my costume Jade? Believe it or not, I even managed to make it all by myself.”

He had been watching Azul’s retreating form with a slight frown on his face as he muttered under his breath, “…He’s going to make me repay him for this, isn’t he?”

“Hmm? What was that, Jade?” You asked, not having quite heard what he had said. Between the noisiness of the party and the height difference between the two of you, it was difficult to hear anyone if they weren’t speaking louder than usual.

Jade just looked down at you, his smile returning full-force as he said, “Oh, it’s nothing you have to worry about.”

Before you could even ask him what that meant by that, Jade reached forward to hold the ruffles that lined the bottom of your hat in between his fingers as he inspected it, telling you with a slight hint of interest in his voice, “Your costume is quite impressive; you did a very good job, you know.” He paused for a moment to ask you, looking down at your form with his mismatched eyes, “Say, what made you decide to pick the Fly Agaric mushroom, hmm?”

“I mean, probably it’s an iconic mushroom, you know? Like, I’m pretty sure everyone knows what this one looks like even if they don’t know its name.” You told him, taking a moment to think about whether you wanted to admit the second part out loud. Well, you might as well be completely honest with him – after all, he could very easily get the truth out of you if he wanted to, “Plus… isn’t it one of your favorite mushrooms? I just thought you’d appreciate it, is all.”

Jade’s face was unsettlingly blank for a long time before an arguably terrifying smirk grew across his face as he lightly pinched one of your cheeks in between his fingers, “My, you’re too cute, Prefect. I could just eat you up right now.”

“Really Jade? Now isn’t the time to joke around like that… I mean, you are joking, right?” You asked, glancing up at him; however, Jade said nothing in return, the grin on his face only widening. You could feel your blood run cold as you asked him, a nervous smile on your face as you said, “…Do I at least get a head-start?”

He seemed to think for a moment, standing up straight before telling you with a smile, “Go ahead – I’ll be a little more courteous to you than my brother usually is. Now, let’s have some fun, hm?”

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lily-fics-11 · 2 months

Text

The Girl Next Door: Chapter 4 (Hazel Callahan, Bottoms)

Fic master post here (feel free to comment to be added to taglist)

The Girl Next Door

You hadn't been close with your neighbor Hazel for years. But you find her beat up in the locker room after fight club and all of that changes

Chapter 4

After getting cleaned up by Hazel and clearing the air, things are beginning to feel the way that they used to. Aside from the romantic tension, of course.

Word count: 3.4k

CW: Profanities, mention of injuries, illusions to violence. Hazel WILL melt your heart. (LMK if I missed anything)

You take out your phone camera to check the damage. A swollen bottom lip with a cut on one side. There’s bruising on your chin that spreads all along the jaw. The cheek gash looks worse than it feels. Eye makeup is smeared around from all of the crying.

The mess is captured in the click of a picture and Hazel laughs. “Did you seriously just take a picture?”

“Hell yeah. My face hurts right now, but soon enough I’ll be looking back at this and laughing. Come over here with your black eye and take a picture with me.” Hazel shifts closer to you and leans her head on your shoulder. There is a lot of blushing, but also the biggest smiles. This is probably the worst picture you’ve ever taken together, but you have a feeling that it’s going to be your new favorite.

You sigh. “I look fucking busted!” Hazel moves away, laughing even more. “Why do you say that like it’s a bad thing?” You wish she would have stayed close to you.

“I look like absolute shit! I can’t go out like this, what are people going to think?”

“I don’t know why you care so much about what other people think. But if it makes you feel any better, everyone's going to think you’re a badass. People even think that Josie and PJ look cool and you are working with a lot more than they are.”

“I look like I got jumped on the way home from school and it's completely unattractive!” You groan.

“That’s not the least bit true,” Hazel reassures with a very serious look on her face. “Don’t lie to me, Hazel.”

“We both know that I can’t lie to save my life.” Hazel’s reminder is paired with raised eyebrows and a snicker.

“Well don’t just tell me what I want to hear to make me feel better!” The pitch of your voice careening upwards cartoonishly.

Hazel’s expression softens and she takes your hand. “I’m totally serious. You are too beautiful for some cuts and bruises to change that.” You feel your face turn bright red. You aren’t going to let yourself take what Hazel is saying the wrong way. Even if she is holding your hand. Her words cannot be taken as they are desired, they must be taken as they are intended. It’s all very overwhelming and calls for a change of subject.

“Looks like I won’t be kissing anyone anytime soon,” you laugh uncomfortably regretting the words the second they leave your mouth. Why bring up kissing? Stupidity, that's why. You pull away, dropping her hand.

Hazel shifts around uncomfortably. “Were you planning on kissing anyone?” She quickly adds: “because you just broke up with your girlfriend. That’s what I meant by that. Not anything else. I would never want you to -ahem- do something you weren’t ready to.” There are clearly two very different trains of thought here, allowing for a sense of safety while admitting “not planning exactly. Just hoping, I guess.” Hazel bites her lip and averts her gaze while continuously taking off and putting back on one of her rings. This conversation needs to be turned in the complete opposite direction.

The opposite of romance is violence, right? “So PJ, she’s really something, isn’t she,” you throw out with an uncomfortable laugh. Hazel looks a little… upset. Based on your observations it seemed like her and PJ had made a deal before fight club that wasn’t honored.

“I know right!” she scoffs, “I can’t believe she was flirting with you like that.” Your cheeks had been red but now they are burning hot from embarrassment as another attempt to make normal conversation has been fumbled.

“Flirting? That’s not what I meant! PJ does that all the time. She used to flirt with me and my ex at the same time. She gets off by fucking with other people’s heads. I’m talking about how she beat the shit out of me. It seemed like you had talked to her and she just disregarded it. Anger aside, I have to say I’m a little impressed. I would have never expected that from her. I heard she had been to juvie, but I had assumed that she had been the one getting fucked up.”

“I told you that she likes to hurt people,” Hazel sighs. “I’m just as surprised about her not finishing things off as I am about the flirting. How could she flirt with you like that in front of” she huffs and scratches the back of her head, eyes darting around “everyone! When she knows that-” Hazel’s voice breaks and she clears her throat “that you just broke up with your girlfriend!” Hazel had always been protective and PJ is kind of a dick. So it makes some sense why she wouldn’t want you getting involved with her.

Hazel quickly receives your reassurance, “you don’t have to worry about me going near PJ. At least not like that. I plan on training like a WWE fighter and giving her a taste of her own medicine.”

Hazel laughs in relief. “Good. That’s good. Because I… I um, I think that you could do better. Not just do better. You deserve the best.”

Hazel’s kind words are met with a grateful smile. “I’m gonna find someone, someday, who might actually treat me well.” God did you want, more than anything else in the world, for that to be her. Those feelings get shoved deep down into a box to avoid any misguided hope.

“I promise that it will happen,” she assures and seals it with a signature pinky swear. A silence falls over the room, accompanied by a sudden reservation, coming from the disconnect brought on by years of separation. Before an attempt is made to break the ice there is the sound of a car pulling into the driveway.

“Fuck! My mom's home! She can’t see me like this!” Your heart rate increases tenfold. Hazel is somehow remaining calm, cool, and collected. “I hate to break it to you, but those cuts and bruises are going to last much longer than you can avoid her for.”

“Right now is not the time to do this, we need to go upstairs. Now!” The demand is made with urgency.

“Like to your bedroom, upstairs?” Her blue eyes are bulging.

“No Hazel, the roof. Of course I mean my bedroom!”

“Ok, sure. Of course. It’s just that I wanted to clarify. That's all.” She nervously laughs, probably in fear of taking a dive into the past.

“Help me get all of this stuff out of here.” You grab your backpack and she picks up the first aid supplies. “Are you going to make it up the stairs ok?” Hazel questions with deep concern.

You just shrug, “I guess we’re going to find out.”

“That’s a terrible idea. But you should go first, and I’ll follow behind in case you fall. I can catch you or whatever.” She gives an encouraging nod.

“That’s a terrible idea, but I don’t have time to convince you otherwise.” The two of you take off and you realize that you are starting to feel a little better. You’ve made it up the stairs and out of sight when you hear the front door open and your mom call your name.

“Hi mom!” You yell down the stairs.

“How was your day honey?”

“Good, great. Nothing out of the ordinary, not at all. Just like any other day.” You bite your tongue, in fear of sounding suspicious.

“I’m not going to keep shouting at you, I’ll talk to you when you come downstairs.”

“Sounds good mom!”

You go into your room and Hazel cautiously follows. She’s not sure what she’s walking into. You have changed a lot, she is probably expecting this once familiar room to have also changed. Your bag is left by the door and Hazel puts everything she is carrying onto the desk. You turn around and flop onto the bed, exhausted and still in a decent amount of pain.

You only look up when Hazel asks “you still have this?” She is pointing at a framed photo of the two of you from 6th grade and it brings on a sudden wave of embarrassment. That only gets worse when she picks up the friendship bracelet that hangs over the picture frame and looks closely at it. It’s a beaded bracelet made up of Hazel’s favorite colors and the letter H in the middle. She has one that matches, but it has your favorite colors and first initial. Those bracelets were worn everyday, with every outfit. She smiles, “I still have mine too, and all of the pictures are still on my wall.” You feel your heart skip a beat.

“We should wear these again, the bracelets. To remind us of how things used to be. So we don’t forget that we can make it through anything as long as we have each other.” Tears of joy are forced down and masked with a nod of agreement, to avoid revealing any feelings through your tone of voice. Hazel moves closer and sits down next to you on the bed. She takes your hand and slides the bracelet onto your wrist and you hope that she can’t feel your pulse. She is causing major heart palpitations that you can only assume could lead to cardiac arrest. “I’ll put mine on when I get home.” She promises. “We should take them off during fight club though, we wouldn't want to break them.”

“Yeah,” you agree with a shy smile. Your eyes lock for a moment before she breaks it and hurries to get up. Hazel begins fidgeting with her rings as she wanders around the room. She’s looking at everything, her eyes lingering on everything that’s still the same, clearly feeling nostalgic.

“Your glasses,” she gestures to them with a quiet smile. “I only wear them at night. I switched to contacts freshman year.”

“I know,” she mentions casually, looking at the pair of glasses wistfully. It creates a sense of wonder. Had she been trying just as hard to avoid and ignore? Or had she been paying attention the whole time and you were too busy trying to forget about her to notice. What else, if anything, did she observe? The next stop Hazel makes is in front of the collection of photos that hang on the wall. She points out Isabel and Brittany when she sees them.

“There are some photos missing,” Hazel states, sounding confused. She is referring to the few blank spaces amongst the immaculately aligned array. You take a deep breath before sighing and admitting “arson.”

“Oh my god someone came into your room and committed arson!?” Hazel looks genuinely horrified and that makes you laugh as you explain what happened. “All those empty spots had pictures of my ex-girlfriend. The night we broke up Isabel and Brittany came over and we burned them in the backyard along with all of her clothes. I guess I can add arsonist to my resume, along with street fighter. I’m really making my parents proud.”

“Sorry to bring it up,” she apologizes, though she has a smug look on her face.

“I have a photo I’m going to put up in one of those spots,” you share with her. “Yeah?” Her eyebrows raise with curiosity.

“The picture we just took.” Bashful feelings come with the disclosed intentions, but Hazel just beams in return. You breathe a sigh of relief when she doesn't seem to connect the dots. You took down those pictures and burned them, along with all the memories. Now you are going to put up pictures of the girl you wish you had never strayed from loving.

“I should put it up too.” Her awkward posture relaxes but she quickly changes the subject. “I should probably give back your sweatshirt. But I can wash it first though. I just have to remember to do that and then remember to actually bring it to you.”

“No it’s fine, you can hold onto it.” There is too much enjoyment in seeing her wear it to even think about taking it back.

“I’ll give you one of mine then. Make it a fair trade,” she seems pleased by the prospect, though it's impossible for her to be as happy as you are about it.

“Feel free to borrow any of my clothes, but I don’t think you would want to wear them.” Even though she is being teased, Hazel smiles.

“Oh really? Now I’m going to have to wear one of your little tank tops to school one day just to prove you wrong. And if I wear your clothes you have to wear mine.” Your cheeks flush at the thought of wearing Hazel’s clothes. Seeing her in your clothes does things to you but this would push you over the edge. And she notices the little tank tops? FUCK!

“I’ll even do your makeup to complete the look,” you joke, hoping that some humor can distract from the way she is making you feel. Hazel wanders over to the vanity where the collection of makeup is located. She picks things up and looks at them, like she is considering the offer. She picks up a lipstick, takes off the cap, and twists it up to see the color. Hazel looks back and grins, “this is the lipstick you had on today. I guess I technically wore it too.” There is a sudden hitch of your breath and you have to remind yourself that she knows the color not because she was paying attention to your mouth, but because it accidentally got on hers.

Hazel puts the lipstick back where she found it. She comes back closer, but she sits on the end of the bed and you wish that she would stop keeping her distance. But that just serves as another reminder not to be misled. Hazel looks down at her rings for a second and then looks back up and crosses her arms. God, why must she keep drawing so much attention to her hands? Does she have any idea what she is doing to you?

“You know what, I’ll let you do my makeup. Under one condition.” Your head tilts to the side, very interested to find out what kind of offer she is going to make. “I will let you do my makeup. If you let me complete your look too. That means you are going to have to wear some of my rings and one of my chains.” Your eyes widen, feeling self conscious, unsure of whether or not you are about to pass out. Maybe even drop dead.

An attempt is made to laugh it off without revealing that you are straight up fighting for your life. “You’ve got yourself a deal. But you should be more careful with what you offer. You know I used to steal your clothes all the time, and I’ll do it again” the fond memories cause lots of giggles.

Hazel raises an eyebrow and smirks. “Believe me, I know exactly what I am doing.” There is a sudden realization that you are going to be able to survive. If that statement didn’t kill you, nothing will. The two of you are stuck in a trance, locked eyes and sheepish smiles. Neither party snaps out of it until Hazel’s phone buzzes. You look away, trying to hide your face that must be redder than a tomato at this point.

Looking at Hazel is avoided until she addresses you directly, and you can only pray that your emotions aren’t written all over your face. “Hey, I just looked at the time and I’ve got to get going soon.” There is an attempt to hide the disappointment, which probably fails.

Thinking about how she is about to make an exit, you are suddenly reminded that the girl next door looks like she came from a UFC octagon. “Hmmm…” thoughts of how this could possibly be explained swirl around. “One problem. My mother. You are going to have to walk past her.” Hazel scratches the back of her head and sounds very unconvinced when she wonders out loud “maybe she won’t say anything? My mom hasn’t.” She is met with rolled eyes. But also a smile, at the thought of how much her steadfast optimism has been missed.

“Haze,” you laugh and her eyes widen when she hears the nickname. Red has become the permanent color of your face at this point. “You know how she is.”

“Yeah,” she sighs. “We can go downstairs and explain together. You are definitely going to need some backup” This amazing girl’s unwavering support has been greatly missed. You move closer to Hazel and pull her into a hug. “Thank you, you are the best,” you whisper in her ear. “Anything for you,” she mumbles back.

The stairs are cautiously descended before a hasteful entrance into the kitchen. “Oh my goodness!” Your mother yells after seeing two very bruised faces while peering over a magazine. “I know you two have your issues but I can’t believe you would do this to each other!”

“No, no, no, that's not it!” Hazel swiftly begins to defend. “We are actually friends again!” Your mom looks both pleased and confused. After Hazel explains ‘self defense club’ your mom isn’t sure how she feels about it, but is grateful that it has reunited such great friends. Friends. Oof. Your mom gives Hazel a big hug and tells her “I’ve missed you so much!”

After a bit more chatting you walk Hazel to the front door. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow at fight club?” You inquire, feeling a little disheartened.

“I guess so.” She looks just as disappointed.

Looking down at your shoes you complain “it sucks that we’ve been avoiding each other for so long that we are kind of stuck like that now. We are on opposite sides of every class we have together. I’m pretty sure the only time we actually got to hang out today, other than fight club, was in the car.”

Hazel is silent for a moment which causes you to look up at her. Her face suddenly brightens like she has a brilliant idea. “Why don’t we just drive to school together again? We are leaving from and going to the same place anyways, right? And it’s good for the environment!”

You bite your lip. “Would this be any everyday thing?”

“Only if you wanted it to be…” Hazel blushes

“That would be great, that’s a good idea. It just makes sense, doesn’t it?”

“It’s my turn to drive though,” she emphasizes, and is surprised to be met with resistance. “Hazel I’m sorry, but there is no way in hell you are a good driver.”

“I am deeply offended. How would you even know?” She playfully rolls her eyes.

“You can’t even walk in a straight line!” An expression of shock and amusement crosses Hazel’s face when she accuses you of almost killing her this morning.

“I did not!” you fire at her. “Did to!” She shoots right back. As mean as you try to sound, the exchange is very playful. You could enjoy bantering with her like this all day but you decide to compromise. “Fine, we can take turns. If we survive.”

“Same time in the morning?”

“Yeah.” You tell Hazel and she turns to leave

“Wait.” Hazel pivots back around upon hearing your voice, and makes heart melting eye contact. “Before you go, I just wanted to say thank you. For bringing me to fight club and taking care of me.”

“I should be the one thanking you.” A rosiness floods the endearing girl’s cheeks as she makes the confession.

“I guess we can call it even.” You hold out your hand and she shakes it, but then she pulls you into a hug. You are there for a while and it doesn’t seem like either of you want to let go, so you decide to bite the bullet. Even though you really don’t want to. You know that you would stay in her arms forever if you could. But you need to keep your hopes in check. Goodbyes are exchanged and a feeling of dread washes over you when she leaves, afraid of getting left behind once again.

#hazel callahan #hazel callahan bottoms #hazel bottoms #hazel x reader #hazelfanfic #bottoms hazel #hazel callahan blurb #hazel callahan brainrot #hazel callahan fanfiction #hazel callahan fluff #hazel callahan headcanons #hazel callahan imagine #hazel callahan x fem reader #hazel callahan x fem!reader #hazel callahan x reader #hazel callahan x you #hazel from bottoms #hazelcallahan

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woofwoofwolf · 15 days

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That which matters more (part 1)

Tighnari x reader, hanahaki fic.

Warnings: Fem!reader, (though I think there is no gendered language in this chapter, but I might have missed something so fair warning) reader is aro/ace, (but again idk yet how big of a role this will play.) Minor injuries

1580 words

This is chapter one of a series I'm working on right now, and although I don't think I'm going to be able to finish it anytime soon, I think if people like it on here it might motivate me more to actually finish this? I currently have 5 chapters planned and I've started chapter 3, but I constantly go back and change stuff in previous chapters (the reason why I never post anything tbh) soooo... who knows. This first chapter might also get changed in the future, but I'm actually decently happy with it so far?

Let me know what you think! I'll post this to AO3 in the future.

“Be careful, please,” Collei nervously clasped her hands against her chest, eying the ivy covered ditch you were standing over. “You’re going to fall!”

“I almost got it, just stand back and don’t worry-” You gasped out. Your left arm was fully outstretched, while your right grabbed on to a branch sticking out from the ledge right across from the flower you were trying to pick. “After this we can go back to Gandharva Ville, I promise-”

“Got it!” You said when you finally had the stem of the flower between your fingers. However your wide smile soon turned to shock as the dry root you were grabbing onto cracked and snapped, and sent you tumbling down a hole, right through the dense ivy.

Collei screamed as a dull thud sounded at the end of your tumble. “Oh my goodness, are you alright?!?!” Her knees fell to the ground to peer into the hole you just fell into, which was thankfully a lot less deep than she had thought it to be. What surprised her tho, was the big yellow cloud that hit her face, completely surrounding the both of you, while you were splayed out on a bed of moss, entirely covered in ivy and pollen. Around you were dozens of the mystery flowers you had just picked. “O-oh no- What do I do!”

A cough signalled that you were still alive. “A rope would be nice,” you groaned.

“Right! A Rope!” Collei sprang into action, quickly looking for a rope in her satchel. “Can you climb out on your own? Oh.. I don’t know if I’m strong enough to carry you.”

“I’m fine, I’m fine… I only scraped my knee a little bit,” You said as you tried to stand up on the slippery moss. Ugh, your leg was going to be sore for a while… “There’s so many of them!”

“I’ll bandage it as soon as I get you out!” Collei said as she secured the rope to a rock.

“No, not that! The flowers!” You pulled the ivy of your arms, making the pollen fly off you, making you cough again. “They sure produce a lot of pollen too… You think holes in the ground like these are their preferred habitat?”

Collei sighed with a small smile. “Well… At least you’re well enough to still be talking. You could’ve hit your head, you know? Master Tighnari isn’t going to be happy.”

She was right, you knew Tighnari was going to lecture you on your detour from your regular patrol, but you hoped that seeing this mysterious flower would distract him enough to not go on for too long.

You grabbed onto the rope, thankfully still able to climb out of the hole yourself. You triumphantly held up not only the flower you plucked earlier, but also two other samples, WITH roots attached. “They’re BEAUTIFUL! I bet not even Tighnari has seen these flower before!” Observing it a little more closely, it was very similar to a Sumeru rose, but the interesting thing that had drawn you closer to it in the first place was the fact that not only did it glow brighter than a regular similar rose, it had also been changing colours from a soft yellow, to a regular Sumeru rose purple, all the way up to a deep red. But it seemed to have stopped now that you had plucked it. Interesting, you were going to have to examine why that was.

Collei sheepishly smiled, but quickly worried herself over your bruised and bleeding knee. You tried not to worry her further by suppressing the coughs that were coming from your irritated throat, but she noticed nonetheless.

“It must be the pollen,” Collei said worriedly. “Oh no, What if it’s toxic?”

You pensively shook your head. “This flower doesn’t have the usual characteristics for that.” You explained. “Besides, you breathed in a good amount too just now, and you seem to be fine..?”

A bit of anxiety crept up in your chest. If Collei got sick because of you, you wouldn’t be able to face Tighnari ever again, nor would you be able to forgive yourself. You were going to have to hurry back to Gandharva Ville and ask the expert to be sure.

Said expert Tighnari was not very amused when you returned that evening, but before the lecture, came first aid. He quickly had baths filled for you and Collei. While Collei went to wash the pollen out of her hair, Tighnari went to re-examine and properly clean the wound on your knee.

“I collected samples of the pollen in some flasks, and brought a few complete specimens with the roots intact. They’re really quite unique flowers. I haven’t seen them in textbooks, nor have I ever seen them on our regular patrol routes. If you bring me a map, I can point out where we found these. If we figure out what made them grow there, I’m sure we could find more of them. I-” You were cut off by another coughing fit.

Tighnari watched you worriedly, taking out a stethoscope. “Could you lift up your top? I’d like to examine your breathing.”

You awkwardly did as he said and breathed in and out as he instructed. “I’ll be fine, really! I just took in a big gulp of dust and pollen, it’s only natural my lungs are irritated a bit. Collei breathed it in a small amount as well and she wasn’t coughing at all. This plant doesn’t have any of the usual characteristics present in flora that produce toxins.”

“Maybe.” Tighnari answered curtly, a blank expression on his face. “I’m going to have to examine the pollen to be sure.”

You were silent for a bit as Tighnari noted some things down on a clipboard. The lack of the usual annoyed and sassy lecture was spooking you a little bit. “Tighnari, I… I’m sorry…”

He sighed and finally looked you in the eye, looking for signs of sincerity. “At least you have the decency to know what you did wrong.”

You nodded. “I shouldn’t have put Collei in that position. Next time… Next time I’ll note the location on a map and ask for you or other forest watchers to come with me.”

“Good.” Tighnari said with a nod. “I know you didn’t deliberately put Collei in danger and that’s the only reason I can begin to look past this. I also agree that from the looks of it it’s part of the same genus as the Sumeru rose. If anything I’d be worried this points to an issue with the Ley lines, but I haven’t heard of any incidents that would point to this… They sure produce a lot of pollen though,” He was more so muttering to himself, than he was explaining anything to you.

“However-!” He pointed his pen right in your face, interrupting his own rant. “Although I’m very happy to see some enthusiasm from you, endangering yourself like that is still absolutely unacceptable.” Ah, there came the lecture. One you absolutely deserved, mind you. “Had you fallen unconscious, Collei would have had to go back to the village on her own to get help. Worst case scenario you could have broken your neck and died. The first and most important skill for a forest watcher to learn, is not the ability to secure the safety of the forest and its visitors, but the safety of themselves. Do you understand?”

“You guys talk as I’m not useful to have around at all.” You both turned to a pouting Collei, leaving your response to Tighnari unsaid.

“Your time as a full fledged watcher will come, Collei,” Tighnari calmly explained. “You’re still young, and besides that we have your condition to worry about. Beyond that you know you have my full trust.”

You self-consciously looked away from the two. You wondered what you could do to earn Tighnari’s trust like that. Maybe the flower you discovered really was a new species? Would that get him to talk to you about it?

“Oh I know,” Collei answered, timidly plucking at her nails. “I’m just saying.”

You interrupted the sweet scene with another set of coughs. “S-sorry.. my lungs and throat feel sore, it must’ve all gotten really irritated by all the dust…” Tighnari hummed in thought. “Best you go wash off all that pollen. I’ll have it examined as soon as possible. If that cough hasn’t gone away by tomorrow evening, please come and see me again. And we’re going to have to schedule you in for more forest safety training.”

You cleared your throat. You were hoping he was going to forget about any punishment. Then again, this probably didn’t count as such in his mind. “Alright. Thank you Tighnari.”

“And, (name),” He said after some hesitation, just before you were to leave the hut. You turned to him, met by his soft gaze. “Please do know there’s nothing you have to prove to me, okay?”

You felt a warmth bloom across your chest. “…Okay.” With that you turned around to leave, but not before having another coughing fit. You quickly dashed out of Tighnari’s hut trying to muffle your cough with your hand. When you removed your hand you saw that you had coughed up a soft pink coloured petal covered in spit. Gross. Though, you supposed that this petal was what was stuck in your throat and that your cough would let up soon.

#tighnari x reader #tighnari #genshin impact #reader insert #tighnari x you #hanahaki #self insert #fluff #slowburn

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wolfjackle-creates · 10 months

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Answer My Call

As promised, this is the first chapter of @gilbirda's Wrong Number AU all fixed up. A lot of it is the same as the original version, but a lot has changed. It went from 3,059 words to 5,392. I'm gonna try and get somewhere with the next chapter of this, but no promises on time-frame. Also working on transferring at least the first chapter of all my WIPs over to AO3. This'll be the only time I tag a bunch of people for this as I'm gonna set up subscription posts.

Find the original prompt and fill here.

Find the Subscription Post here.

And the AO3 version here (locked to logged in users, reach out if you need an invite).

Story Summary: Jazz, Sam, and Tucker manage to help Danny escape the GIW, but they can't follow him and are under too much surveillance to communicate with each other. Sam snuck Danny a phone as he ran and Jazz sends him a text every day, hoping to hear he is all right. But he's not the one getting the texts.

Jason was away for several months on a mission with the Outlaws. When he finally returns home, he is surprised to find dozens of messages from an unknown number begging a Danny to tell her he's okay. Looks like there's not going to be a break between missions this time around.

----------

Jazz sat in a Nasty Burger booth and stared at her food. She'd ordered Danny's favorite, but her stomach was so in knots she didn't think she could eat.

All of this was her parent’s fault. If they weren’t so close minded and horrible, if they’d just accepted they were wrong…

Her circling thoughts were interrupted by a balled up napkin landing on the table next to her tray. Jazz was half to her feet ready to yell at whomever threw their trash at her when she saw Sam in a frilly yellow dress walking to the counter with her grandmother.

Huffing as if annoyed, Jazz settled back down and straighted the napkin. In messier-than-normal writing, Sam had scrawled the message:

I got him an old phone before he ran. His number is XXX-XXX-XXXX.

As surreptitiously as she could, she pulled out her own phone and saved the number to the encrypted folder Tucker had set up. Then she destroyed the napkin by soaking it in her unfinished pop and throwing her entire tray away, uneaten food and all.

Well, there was nothing else she could do in Amity. Might as well start the long drive back to Boston.

Upon reaching the edges of town, however, she realized leaving wasn’t going to be as easy as she thought. A GIW checkpoint had been set up and all incoming and outgoing traffic was being questioned.

Two agents approached her car before she could turn around and try a different way out. She did make them knock on her window before deigning to lower it just an inch, however. After what they’d done to Danny, she would never willingly play along with their games again.

“Ms. Fenton,” said the agent as soon as she realized she wasn’t going to open the window any further, “we need to search yourself and your vehicle. You are a known ecto-entity sympathizer and are suspected of assisting in the escape of subject P1. Vacate your vehicle immediately.”

“All I did was come back to my hometown to find my missing brother. I’ll need to see a warrant before you search my car.”

“Ms. Fenton, I don’t think you understand the situation. Due to the escape of the highly dangerous specimen P1, the town is under our a state of emergency. Mayor Masters has instated martial law to ensure the safety of all citizens. You can either vacate your car or you will be under arrest.” He grabbed a packet of papers from an inner pocket of his suit jacket and pushed one end through the crack in Jazz’s window.

Jazz took them and skimmed. The agent wasn’t lying; anyone caught breaking curfew or suspected of harboring or otherwise assisting a ghost would be arrested without bail immediately. All because her brother escaped that torture chamber. She stepped out of the car.

It took over an hour for the agents to search every inch of her car, purse, and luggage and convince themselves she didn’t have Danny hidden away somewhere. By the time she was allowed to go on her way, her jaw hurt from how hard she was clenching her teeth and her eyes stung with tears.

She hated Vlad. And the Guys in White. And the US Government. But finally she was free to leave.

And then she realized the white van was following her out of city limits. Really? Was she going to have to deal with them tailing her, too?

She ground her teeth and eased up on the gas pedal, moving to the right lane. Her father had taught her how to drive, but she’d learned better from the internet and recorded driver’s ed classes. She followed the speed limit exactly, only changing lanes to pass or allow others to merge on. Through it all, her focus remained on the white van behind her. She recognized Agent O as the driver.

Every so often his attention would slip and he’d wind up closer to her than intended. And then, finally, forty-five minutes after she started her perfect driving, she saw him yawn.

“Eat dust, creep!” Jazz shouted as she slammed her foot on the gas and jerked the steering wheel to swerve into the next lane. A chorus on horns followed her as she crossed the median and began going in the opposite direction. She had learned some things from her dad.

Two exits closer to Amity, she got off the highway and stopped at a Target for a burner phone which she activated at a local library. Then she got back on the highway east.

To her satisfaction, it took Agent O three hours to find her again.

-----

That night at a motel in who-knows-where Pennsylvania, Jazz double checked the locks on the door and that the curtains were closed before pulling out her new phone.

Her fingers trembled as she typed a message and sent it to the number Sam had given her.

Hey, Danny, it’s Jazz. Sam passed on the number for the phone she gave you before we were all separated. Please let me know you’re safe. Love you.

Jazz stared at the phone, hoping for a reply.

She woke with the phone clutched to her chest, but no new messages. Her breath caught and then she was curled around the phone crying.

“Danny, you’d better be okay,” she mumbled through her sobs.

But then her main phone alarm went off and Jazz forced herself up from the bed and into the shower. She could get through this. She had to.

An hour later, with her makeup applied and secret phone well hidden in her bag, she was back in her car and getting on the highway, a white van keeping pace behind her.

That night she was back in her dorm room in Boston. Her roommate tried to ask her questions about how her trip home went, but Jazz brushed off the concern. If she’d been honest, her roommate wouldn’t know how to reply anyway.

Instead, she waited until the other girl was taking a shower to pull out the burner phone and send another message.

Made it back to Boston. They’re following me now. Please don’t come here. It’s not safe. I know they’re keeping close tabs on Sam and Tucker, too. But they don’t know about this phone. Love you. Let me know you’re safe.

The next day, she got a phone call from an unknown Amity number during her Literature class. With a hurried apology to the professor, she gathered her supplies up and rushed out of the classroom as she answered the phone.

“Jazz speaking.”

“Hello, Ms. Fenton. My name is Detective Ramirez. I’m calling regarding your brother, Daniel—“

“Danny,” Jazz corrected automatically. “He prefers Danny.”

“Right, Danny. It appears he’s missing.”

Jazz’s breath hitched. She knew that, of course. But hearing a stranger say it so bluntly hit different. She walked faster, there was a single stall bathroom just a floor up.

“His teacher, a Mr. Lancer, reported his disappearance yesterday and your parents admitted they didn’t know his location either when we went to check on him. Do you know where he may be?”

“I don’t.” Finally, there was the bathroom. She rushed in and shut the door behind her, locking it before sliding to the ground. “Have— Have you figured out how long he’s been missing?”

“Near as we can tell, it’s been a week. Do you know why your parents wouldn’t have reported him missing?”

Jazz let out a mirthless laugh. “Are you from Amity, detective?”

A pause, then he said, “I am.”

“Then you know my parents. They were probably too busy trying to torture a ghost to notice Danny.”

“Would it be possible for you to stop by the station to answer some questions?”

“I’m in Boston for school, detective. You can come here or I can answer any questions you have on the phone. I will not be going back to Amity unless it is to see Danny.”

“Very well. Did your brother have any motivation to or history of running away?”

And so began an hour long interrogation. Jazz played her part to perfection. She cried, she begged, but she didn’t give him anything.

That night, after her roommate went to bed, she sent another text.

A detective called today to see if I might know where you are. Don’t worry, I didn’t tell him anything. Maybe next time I’ll let slip some lies, send the GIW on a wild goose chase. Love you. Let me know you’re safe.

It became a ritual. Every day she’d keep her head down and go about her classes ignoring the agents following her and once a day when she could guarantee her privacy, she’d send another text to Danny. Each one ended the same way.

It’s been a week since you escaped. Did you make it to the realms? Love you. Let me know you’re safe. The detective actually came all the way to Boston to interview me. Can you believe it? I cried on him and begged him to find you and may have mentioned how much you loved visiting Aunt Alicia who lived off the grid. Hopefully that’ll distract them. Love you. Let me know you’re safe. Agent K tried to wait for me outside my Psych class today. I just met his eyes and glared until he said something into his walkie talkie and left. Love you. Let me know you’re safe. Today is your birthday and you're still not responding to me. I don't know what I'll do if you die a second time on me. Love you, let me know you're safe. Sam, Tucker, and I can't talk. We're under too close of surveillance. I think Sam is being home schooled now and Tucker got a scholarship and his parents sent him away from Amity. I don't know if it was the GIW or Vlad, but promise me you won't return to Amity. Love you, let me know you're safe. I got a call from the detective. They've basically given up the search. Of course they couldn't find you. I guess mom and dad made the call to have you declared dead. You're funeral is next week. Strangest part about this is it's 3 years too late. Love you, let me know you're safe. Dani was able to visit today. She’s safe and trying to find a way to the realms. We worked on finding ways to mask her ecto-signature and we’re finally happy with the results. I think she’ll be safe now. Love you. Let me know you’re safe.

Jazz didn’t mention how the study room they’d been practicing in was raided by GIW agents less than twenty minutes after Dani had left.

I’m back in Amity. Your funeral is tomorrow. I hate it here. I hate even more how much it still feels like home. Love you. Let me know you’re safe. They didn’t even show up. Love you. Let me know you’re safe. I miss you so much. I hate how useless I am. I’m not you. I can't build a portal or boo-merang to search for you. You'd better come home soon. Love you, let me know you're safe.

-----

The first thing Jason did upon returning to his Gotham apartment was shower. The second was sleep for a solid eleven hours.

And when he woke up, he made himself a huge breakfast, reveling in the opportunity to put a kitchen through it’s paces for the first time in months.

But the first non-essential thing he did was plug in his phone and turn it on. After months away, his notifications would be insane and he wanted to be rested and full before bothering to skim through the family group chats.

Unsurprisingly, his messaging app showed over two thousand unread texts. What was surprising, however, was that 71 of those were from an unknown number.

He opened that thread first and skimmed the most recent message.

Agent K tried to pull me aside to question me and search my bag twenty minutes before an exam. Asshole almost made me miss it! But I managed to run and got to my classroom just in time. Love you. Let me know you’re safe.

Jason raised an eyebrow and scrolled to the top of the thread. By the time he’d finished reading, his vision was tinted green.

Looked like he wasn’t going to have those relaxing few days before his next big case.

With a sigh he turned on his laptop and searched Amity. All he could find was a generic government website proclaiming it “The Most Haunted Town in America!” Every link on the page was broken when he tried to click it.

He ground his teeth and searched for “GIW” and “Agent K.” Neither yielded any useful results either.

By five o’clock he was nearly ready to scream in frustration and the green wasn’t leaving the edges of his vision. Looks like he was going to need backup.

He stomped out of his apartment, got on his motorcycle, and ignored all speed limits as he rushed through Gotham.

Traffic and noise decreased the further from Gotham proper he got until city streets were replaced by McMansions with their fancy landscaping and long drives.

He continued until he got to B’s home and made his way up the long drive. Though he quickly turned to the smaller path that lead to the kitchen entrance rather than continue up to the main doors.

After cutting the engine, he continued to sit on the bike for a moment as he stared at the door to the kitchen. Was he really going to do this?

He closed his eyes and phrases from the desperate texts filled his mind. With a deep breath he stood up and walked through the door.

As expected half an hour before dinner, Alfred was in the kitchen getting everything ready.

“Master Jason!” he exclaimed. “Give me just a moment.”

Jason watched with a slight smile as Alfred stirred the gravy and lowered the temperature. “Hey, Alfie.”

Alfred made his way towards Jason and pulled him into a hug. “Welcome home, my boy.”

“Got in yesterday. There enough food for one more? Who else is around?”

“There’s always enough food for you. Now, help me stir the vegetables. Masters Bruce, Damian, Duke, and Tim are all home.”

Jason hummed as he got to work helping with the last of dinner prep. “Is the replacement up to anything big right now? I was thinking of asking for his expertise on something.”

Alfred clicked his tongue. “You’ve only just returned from an extended mission. I haven’t even had the chance to check you over for new injuries yet. Can’t you rest for even a day?”

“Come on, Alfie. Don’t you know us better than that by now? No rest for the wicked as they say!”

Alfred gave him a Look. “You are hardly wicked, Master Jason.”

Jason looked back down at the vegetables he was helping with. “I think these are done. And you know I wouldn’t ask Replacement a favor unless it was important.”

“I know you know his name is Timothy,” Alfred said as he passed Jason a bowl. “But he is not working on anything time sensitive at the moment that I know of.”

“And you know everything.”

“Hardly. Now, help me set the table.”

Jason did as instructed and the two fell into an old routine.

Bruce walked into the dining room as they were laying things out. “Jason. When did you get back?”

Jason took a deep breath forced himself to stay relaxed. “Yesterday. Figured I’d grab some of Alfred’s cooking tonight.”

“How did your mission go? Have you filed a report yet?”

God, couldn’t he just ask how Jason was like a normal person?

Alfred stepped in before Jason could snap. “Master Bruce, you know I do not allow shop talk at the dinner table.”

“I’m doing great, B,” he said with fake cheerfulness. “Had the best breakfast this morning and slept amazingly, thanks for asking.”

“Jason—”

“I’m gonna get the last of the dishes from the kitchen, Alfred,” said Jason before Bruce could say anything more.

In the kitchen, Jason leaned over the counter and breathed as he counted to ten. He shouldn’t have come here. Not with the pits so close to the surface after seeing those messages.

But he was bat-trained and he couldn’t leave a mystery alone and he needed someone with better computer and hacking skills than he had. So here he was.

He could do this. It was just dinner then a question.

He grabbed the last two platters of food and returned to the dining room. Duke and Tim had arrived in the meantime.

“Hey, Jason,” greeted Duke.

“Hey, kid. How’s Gotham been treatin’ ya?”

“Same old, same old. Glad to see you’re back and in one piece.”

Jason grinned at him. “The other guys aren’t so lucky.”

Duke laughed. “I’ll bet.”

Tim piled food onto his plate. “You should’ve said you were back. Dick would’ve made the trip out here to join us. Barbara, too, probably.”

“It was a last minute decision. Where’s the demon brat?”

“Here,” said a voice from behind him. “Todd. You appear to be healthy.”

Jason blinked at the kid a few times as Damian walked around him and took his own seat. “Uh… yeah. Thanks. You appear… healthy, too.”

Nonplussed by the lack of aggression, Jason took his own seat and began serving himself as well.

Over dinner, the others filled him in on the major family drama as well as what had happened in Gotham while he’d been gone. Even Bruce seemed to be trying after his initial missteps.

But then they were finishing dessert and Tim got up to leave.

“Hey, Replacement, by the way, can I get your opinion on something? My computer skills don’t seem to be enough to get me the information I need.”

“Really? You’re gonna call me ‘Replacement’ at the same time as you ask for help? Fuck you?”

“Language, Master Tim.”

“Sorry, Alfred.”

“Look, Tim,” Jason corrected himself, “apparently someone contacted me months ago for help and I only just found out because I’ve been gone. It seems to be time-sensitive. Now, I can spend days or weeks more trying to figure this out on my own or you could probably do it in an hour or two.”

And of course Bruce had to butt in. “Who contacted you and what is this case?”

Jason shrugged. “Dunno. Looks like a case of wrong number, actually.

“A wrong number?” That caught Tim’s attention.

Jason hid his grin. Hook, line, and sinker. “Yep. She thinks she’s texting someone named Danny. I’m the one getting the messages.”

Tim sighed. “Fine. Give me a ride back to my place and I’ll see what I can do.”

-----

“What the fuck, Jason.”

Eight hours later and they were both tired and Tim still hadn’t gotten anywhere with his search. But he had fried two computers.

“It’s not supposed to do that, is it?” asked Jason staring at the Lazarus-green screen covered in bright blue gibberish. “Is that color combination even legal?”

“You’re worried about the colors? Dude! This isn’t even code. I don’t even recognize half these symbols!”

The computer let out an awful screeching-wail that had Jason covering his ears. Then it started to smoke and the screen when black. When Tim tried to check out the hardware, it had overheated so badly the plastic casing was melted.

“I think it’s time we try calling this Jazz woman.”

“Yeah. Would it be better to call her as Jason or Red Hood?”

Tim just raised and eyebrow at him and Jason sighed as he opened up his messages and hit call, setting it to speaker phone.

He winced when a woman picked up instantly with a cry of, “Danny!”

“I’m afraid this isn’t Danny,” said Jason.

He counted the seconds until the woman spoke again. Seven. “Please, just delete all the messages. If anyone finds out about them, I’ll be arrested. And the guys in white aren’t gentle with prisoners.”

Tim’s eyebrows rose and Jason bit his cheek to hold back the curses.

“You’ve got the wrong idea. I might not be Danny, but I want to help. You’ve reached Red Hood. I was unconctactable for the last few months while on a mission and I only just saw your messages. Red Robin is with me and we plan to help you and Danny. But we need more information.”

Another pause and then Jazz spoke again. “I’ll need some proof you are who you say you are.”

“Seems reasonable,” agreed Tim. “Give us fifteen minutes to get into costume. We’ll take a selfie. You can even specify the pose and any features you want included. Sound fair?”

“Fine. I want Red Robin to give Red Hood rabbit ears and Red Hood to give Red Robin Moose antlers."

Jason groaned. “Seriously? Can’t it be literally anything else?”

“Nope. I want to be sure you’re not just stealing something off the internet. I’ll also be doing a reverse image search on whatever picture you send, just to confirm.”

Tim laughed, the asshole. “Smart. We’ll send the photos soon as we’re changed and in position.”

“Very good. I’ll also have some questions for you, you understand. My record with those associated with the government has not been very good. Which is why my brother, his friends, and I never contacted the Justice League.”

“It’s a good thing I don’t associate with the government then, isn’t it?” asked Jason.

“That’s the only reason I’m even considering telling you the truth, Mr. Hood.”

-----

It ended up being half an hour before they could both get in uniform and agree on a spot where they could take the pictures. Jason finally convinced Tim they should pose next to his favorite grotesque and the pictures were sent off.

Five minutes later, his phone range.

“Cute gargoyle,” said Jazz before they could even get out a greeting.

“It’s a grotesque, actually,” corrected Jason on autopilot. He could feel Tim’s eye roll even with the mask.

"Why can't I access anything from the town of Amity or find any information on the GIW you mentioned? I fried three computers trying to track down information. Literally. Had to disable the smoke detectors."

Now it was Jason's turn to roll his eyes. Tim always got so intense when it came to research.

“You certainly don’t waste time. But before I answer your questions, I need to ask my own.”

Tim frowned, but there was no sign of frustration in his voice when he spoke. “Of course. What do you need to know?”

“What do you know about ghosts?”

“One of my teammates is a ghost,” said Tim.

“And there’s another one who works with Justice League Dark,” added Jason.

A pause, then a surprised, “Really? I didn’t know that.” She hummed and Jason wished he could see her face to see what she was thinking. “Do you know about the Anti-Ecto Acts?”

“The what?” asked Tim even as he started typing into his watch. “Wait, if I search for this, will my device burst into flames?”

For the first time, Jazz laughed in genuine amusement and Jason felt he was getting a glimpse into who she really was. The sound pushed the green back from the back of his head and his breath seemed to come a little easier.

“No, the acts are fine. Here, I’ve got the code number.”

Tim searched the number Jazz related. Thirty seconds after pulling it up, he let out a low whistle. “What the fuck. The League has no idea these laws exist. I can promise you that. Martian Manhunter and all Lanterns would leave immediately.”

“What’s it say?” demanded Jason, trying to read the tiny screen over Tim’s shoulder.

“These Ectoplasm Dependent Entities, are they the ghosts you mentioned?”

“Yes. More specifically, the ghosts referred to are sapient creatures from a parallel dimension called the Infinite Realms by its residents and the Ghost Zone by some humans. Ectoplasm, and this is an oversimplification to the point of being incorrect, is required by ghosts the way living creatures on Earth need carbon. Hood, the Anti-Ecto Acts declare all Realm Ghosts as non-sapient, excluding them from the Meta Protection Acts. It also states that they are to be turned over the to Guys in White, more formally known as the Ghost Investigation Ward and abbreviated to GIW, for experimentation and elimination.”

“Well shit. And I assume Danny is targeted by this group?”

“Got it in one.”

A chill went down Jason’s spine. “That’s what you meant by his funeral being three years too late.”

She sighed, all hints of laugher gone and Jason wished he could bring it back. “My brother is different. I won’t tell you more than that. He’s still alive, though. Or at least he was when he escaped the Guys in White about three months ago.”

Jason and Tim exchanged glances. She was definitely holding a lot back. So Jason decided to change tactics. “You mentioned another Dani, too. With an i?”

“She’s my brother’s clone. We consider her our little sister, but our parents don’t know about her. We haven’t been able to provide a stable home for her and she loves to travel and is more than capable of protecting herself, so we just keep in contact and hope she’ll come when she needs help.”

Tim perked at the word clone. “We can offer her safety,” he promised. “One of my teammates and best friends is a clone.”

Jazz hummed. “I'll let her know the next time she reaches out. No promises, though. She's even less trustful than I am.”

Jason took deep breaths. “How old are you, your brother, and sister?” She sounded young and had mentioned college many times in her messages.

Jazz hesitated. “We’re all teenagers. Dani was created three years ago, but was aged up.”

Jason spun and kicked the wall hard. Tim caught his arm to keep him from overbalancing. “Okay. Of course you are. Because adults can’t help but force children into roles they should never have to take.”

Tim rolled his eyes. “Bit hypocritical of you to say that.”

“Yeah, well, look where it got me,” Jason retorted, voice a growl.

“I feel like I’m missing some context,” said Jazz.

“It’s nothing,” said Jason. “I just hate when adults put kids in danger or don’t help them get out of danger.” And it was definitely time to change the subject. “You mentioned two other people? A Tucker and Sam? Do they need help?”

“They’re not in danger like the Dannies. But the Guys in White suspect the three of us of collaborating with ghosts and are keeping a close eye on us. Our main phones are tapped and any messages we send will be read and all calls recorded. The instant they have proof we’ve assisted or plan to assist ghosts, we’ll be arrested and detained.”

“What can I do to access information on these Guys in White and Amity?” asked Tim.

“You need a computer that’s ectoplasm-compatible. I don’t have a spare, but Tucker would. He’s at a tech school in San Francisco.”

“What’s that mean, ectoplasm-compatible?” Tim was still typing away at his watch and Jason was jealous of his ability to read and listen at the same time.

“Tucker can explain it better than I can. But basically, things from our world don't work around ectoplasm. It gives off it's own form of energy and our gadgets, and bodies, can't handle it. But if something is exposed to low quantities over a long period of time, they begin to change. The ectoplasm is incorporated. This allows the device to display video and pictures of ghosts. Computers that are not ecto-compatible can't even connect to ones that are. An ecto-compatible computer, on the other hand, can access information from a non-compatible one.”

Jason couldn’t help but latch onto one specific word. “What do you mean bodies? Can humans become ecto-compatible?” The idea sent a shiver down Jason’s spine for reasons he couldn’t quite name.

“It’s complicated. Ectoplasm is dangerous for humans. Really dangerous. My brother and friends and I have done some research on how it interacts with living matter from this dimension and… Well, its far too complicated to discuss over the phone with people I don’t know if I should trust and who don’t have the requisite background knowledge to understand it anyway.”

Tim hummed in a way Jason knew meant he wasn’t satisfied and wouldn’t rest until he got all the information he could. “Would Tucker be willing to sell me an ecto-compatible computer if I reach out to him? How much would he want for it?”

Jazz laughed, but this time there wasn’t any happiness in it. “If you’re really going to help Danny, he’d give it to you for free. And if you can get him to trust you, he’ll show you all the backdoors he’s made into the Guys in White’s servers.”

“Fantastic. How can I contact him?”

Jason let them talk specifics as he stared out over the city. Not even twenty-four hours home and he was right back in the thick of things. When it seemed like Tim and Jazz were wrapping things up, he added, “I’d like to speak to you in person.”

“I’m in Boston,” she said with a laugh.

Jason made the calculations, adding time for a ninety minute nap. “I can be there in seven hours.”

“I’ve class in seven hours.” She sighed. “But I’ll text you a time and place. I need to make sure I get somewhere the Agents following me won’t be able to find right away.”

“I can go in civvies,” offered Jason. “I’ve more than a few fake IDs. Might be easier to hide what we’re talking about.”

She hummed in consideration. “I’ll let you know. I have your number after all.”

“That you do. I’ll head your way sooner than later so I’m at least close by when you manage your escape.”

“Very well. Then I suppose I’ll be seeing you soon. Will you both come to Boston or are you going to Tucker first, Red Robin?”

“I’m going to go to Tucker. I need that computer and access to the relevant information. Then we can start to plan. Before Red Hood leaves, I’ll make a few communicators so you can contact us on a secure line. And I’ll give one to Tucker, too. At least then you’ll be able to talk to each other.”

“Thank you.” Jazz’s voice was quiet and filled with emotion. It made Jason’s heart clench. No way was she faking that. But she gathered herself and her voice was strong again when next she spoke. “And Gentlemen?”

“Yeah?” asked Jason.

“If it turns out I was wrong to trust you? Your bodies will never be found. My friends and I have been keeping Amity safe from ghosts and ghost hunters alike for the past three years on our own. We have access to resources you can't even imagine. And if we are no longer held back by the fear of putting both Dannies in more danger, well, we can do a lot of damage."

“Yes, ma’am,” replied Jason. “You can trust us.”

“I hope you’re not lying,” she said before disconnecting the call.

Jason let out a whistle. “I like her.”

Tim huffed a laugh. “Of course you do. You know, this could only happen to us. What are the chances of a wrong number text reaching one of us?”

-----

Far away, in a tower in another dimension, a being smiled. His appearance changed from child to middle aged to elderly and back as he watched the lives of many on the mirrors that covered every surface of his home.

“Just a little longer, my Prince,” he said as the threads of time wove a pattern that glowed just a little bit brighter.

----------

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#dpxdc #answer my call #wrong number au #anger management ship #my writing #edited first chapter #ao3 link

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ilycorisradiata · 2 years

Note

Hello, may I request a Ayato x m reader? little connected to the 'bloodline' where reader after getting so much attention and pumpering by Ayato wants to pay him back aka make him happier with things he likes tut I think we all know.. - so the reader tries to service Ayato and call him Master which makes Ayato turn to possesive self, do as you want I really loved your ffs!! (psst maybe Thoma accidently coming in to where reader tries to put on some kind of clothes to visually please Ayato then he apologizes but reader has a hard time putting it on so ask for help and that's it.. -) Sorryyy if I ask for too much!!

bloodline pt. 2

ಌ bloodline: kamisato ayato x masc!reader

ಌ theme: you pay back ayato as you feel he spoils you too much !

ಌ cw: 18+ NSFW, amab implied reader, no pronouns used for reader, ayaka gave you presents<3, skimpy lingerie, thoma helps you fix the linger oops poor dude blush blush, calling ayato master, he calls you pet, anal fingering, desk chair sex, desk sex, creampie, short aftercare<3, solo edited + solo read, cross-posted on ao3

ಌ wc: 3.5K

ಌ notes: eeee hi anon! thank you so much, i hope you enjoy this<3 i assume you've also got another request from what i see in my ask box, so i'll work on that soon :') bloodline pt. 1

It had been a couple of weeks since that night that had blown all of your troubles away. Everything felt amazing, you never heard any gossipers and Ayato was always clear in his praises, making sure you were alright. He had Thoma check up on you often when he was busy, even going so far as to make sure there was tea prepared for you and always having someone there to make sure you were fine.

Although the concern that first plagued your mind was at ease, you now had another problem. Ayato had been pampering you and giving you as much attention as he could, so much so that you started to feel guilty. Not because you felt undeserving, but guilty in a way that you weren’t giving as much back, and he’d always explain that you didn’t need to do anything for him. He was content in spoiling you as much as he could because seeing you happy made his entire day much brighter, but you still wanted to pay him back for his kindness. You wanted to do something for him. Whilst walking along the seashore with Ayato, you pondered many things that you could do to give him, your silence washing over the both of you, making Ayato question you.

“Why are you so quiet today, hmm? Is something on your mind?” He squeezed your hand, watching the waves slowly come in.

“Well… If you could have something from me, what would it be? It could be physical or non-physical.”

“Hmm… I thought we spoke on this before. I don’t need anything physically from you, because you already give me a lot, Y/N.” You look to him to see his usual warm smile, the one that reaches his eyes and his eyes crinkle at the sides ever so slightly. Sighing and looking to the sea, you knew he wouldn’t be able to answer in a way you’d hoped, he’s far too kind for his own good sometimes.

“Is something the matter?”

“I wish I could give you more than what I already do… You have given me so much, as well as having done so much for me in terms of reassurance that it feels unfair. I want to spoil you as well.” He stops in his tracks, unknowing to you as you continue with the pace you were both walking at before, admiring the way the sun was in its descent into the sea. Sighing to himself with a smile, he catches up to you, latching himself onto your hand.

“I can’t tell you what I want because I already have you, but if you want to spoil me more… Then go ahead. I’ll wait for what you prepare, even if it takes you a while and it’s been forgotten about in the meantime by myself.” Laying a kiss to the back of your hand, he squeezes it and spins you around to continue looking at the sea, arms wrapped softly around you. The sun had begun to dip into it, the auburn glow dying the sea as it glitters slightly with the appearance of the stars.

“We should go before it gets cold out here, I don’t want you becoming unwell.”

“I don’t want to get unwell either, because then my chances of spoiling you are gone as you would be pampering me until I got better.” With a chuckle, he lets your waist go to reach for your hand, guiding you back to the estate. It was a quiet night after that, where you both quickly got washed before falling asleep. The fresh sea air clearly doing both of you a favour with how quick it was for Ayato to fall asleep with you closely behind him.

When you woke up, Ayato was already away to do his duties, with a note on the small tea table near the futon. He normally left you a note on days he was in a rush more than usual, and it seemed that he wouldn’t be back until after dinner where he would be in the study fixing documents. This gave you enough time to think of how to spoil him, what you could do for him in return for his continued kindness.

It gave you an idea, remembering that Ayaka gave you many presents that you honestly had never shown to anyone else in sheer embarrassment. Ayaka was soft and kind-hearted towards you, but she absolutely loved how flustered you got over her brother. So, one day she had prepared many gifts for you, without much reason behind it. She said to open them there and then, and when you had you were gone− skimpy yet beautiful garments laid in boxes. If your soul ever left your body it was definitely in that moment. A total K.O.

Ayaka had laughed at your reaction, loud enough for Ayato to pop his head into the room and of course, you had never thrown things into the cupboard faster in your life. You were dishevelled, panting with your eyes blown wide trying to protect the door to the cupboard and Ayato just looked at you in utter confusion. When it was evident that Ayaka was struggling to keep her laugh in, Ayato merely told her to behave and treat you nicely before leaving again, seeing as you had made eyes at him to leave for a while. Ayaka totally meant well, and of course it was now coming in handy. You rummaged through all of the options she had given you, humming at the thought of finally giving back to Ayato.

Holding some of the garments up after months of them just sitting in there, you shivered at the thought. Ayaka made a good job of picking these out, clearly paying attention to detail and the colour scheme, seeing as it completely matched Ayato’s formal attire perfectly. Before you put it on, you went to the nearest toilet and began preparing yourself. It was the norm now, not really needing Ayato with the stretching as much as you did before, but you didn’t do it entirely just so he could do a little bit of the job himself. When you were satisfied enough with it all, you moved back to the bedroom. You thank Ayaka mentally for the garments, even if it was just to get a reaction out of you, you sorted through it and began putting it on.

There was a soft knock on the door before it slid open, freezing in place as you looked towards the door to see a frightened Thoma. He looked as though he was a deer caught in headlights, frightened enough because he’d just caught you in a very vulnerable state, barely dressed and revealing much more than he’d obviously seen before. Turning away with a beet-red face, he stutters out a sentence before sliding the door to the room shut.

“S-sorry, I should’ve knocked and waited… Your tea has been prepared and I thought I would bring it to you, Y/N.” You let out a cough, trying to clear any embarrassment from your voice before speaking.

“It’s okay, Thoma.”

“I’ll place it outside, I apologise again.”

“Thank you… A-actually, Thoma? Could you help me? I know what you had seen was unbecoming of me, but I actually can’t get this to look neat enough.” You could feel the hesitance Thoma felt, before the door slid open again, Thoma entering and shutting the door behind him. He placed the tea down on the small tea table, before moving over to you with a hand covering his eyes. The problem you were having was that you couldn’t fasten some of the silk ties that would wrap around your front and then around your back, it wouldn’t look neat without a second person helping.

“You’ll need two hands for this… I’m sorry you have to witness such a thing, but this won’t look neat and I’m too embarrassed to ask anyone else.” You wrap it around your front and then around your back one by one, holding each tie out to Thoma. Shaking hands took hold of them both, delicately tying them into a bow that was easy to unravel again.

“I apologise again that you’re helping me with this…”

“No, it’s alright, I was just shocked is all… I don’t think Ayato would be very pleased with me seeing you like this, please don’t let him know that I helped you fasten this properly.”

“I won’t. Thank you so much, Thoma.” He had fastened the last few ties, placing a hand over his eyes once he was done. He muttered out a ‘you’re welcome’ before politely leaving, albeit in a hurry with a still red face that had all but quickly spread to the back of his neck and knuckles of his hands, sighing in relief when the door had slid shut again behind him. Your heart was beating nervously after that, mentally cursing yourself for putting Thoma through that struggle but it would definitely be worth it in the end.

Wearing much more appropriate attire on top of it all and grabbing a special little bottle, you made your way outside of your room to ask the maids within the estate if they could help you prepare some sweet treats for Ayato. With much glee, they were quick to whiz you away to get them all prepared, which thankfully didn’t take long considering how much stock of everything there was (which you hadn’t known about before, but you weren’t exactly surprised). After thanking the maids and making your way to his study, you spot Thoma who was leaning on the frame of the doors outside of it. He spots you and eyes the snacks, knocking on the door and sliding it open for you, shutting it after you were far enough inside as you heard something rattling and then footsteps quickly moving away from it. Ayato knew that it was you without removing his eyes from the papers in front of him.

“I see you’ve come to visit me. I won’t be long, so please make yourself comfortable.”

“Of course, master.” His reaction was obvious, he flinched and then coughed, his hand faltering to keep his pen still and you knew this had some effect on him. Placing the treats and the bottle to the side of him, you removed the garment to reveal everything you had prepared underneath, making your way to Ayato. He shifted in his seat, noticing you coming over to him but not really paying much attention to you, not just yet anyway.

You removed his left hand that kept the papers steady on his desk for a moment, just so you could slip in between and situate yourself on his lap. He was still unknowing to your current attire, simply allowing you to sit there whilst he worked away on the last few papers. Sitting patiently. There was no need to disturb him further, especially when his left hand made its way to your hip. When he had finished his work, he finally took a look at you, the normal look in his eyes disappearing and having been replaced with something more carnal.

“Was this your idea of spoiling me, Y/N? I’m already impressed, where did you find this in such a short period of time?”

“This was a present of many from Ayaka, the one I hid from you when you came in after hearing Ayaka laughing so loudly at me.” His hands had begun to wander as he took in everything in front of him.

“I see… She probably got this to tease you as your reactions to things like these are cute, but I am genuinely enjoying this very much.” Gloved hands felt up the silky material, eventually dipping his gloves everywhere that was bare, not covered by a thing. You shifted to straddle him, and a hand of his came up to cup your face, swiping his thumb over your lips.

“You look gorgeous…”

“Thank you, master.” The bob of his Adam’s apple was very prominent, a small glint in his eyes as his hands dove down to cup your ass, with a squeeze of course.

“That’s the second time you have called me that dear… Mind explaining why?”

“Is it not to your liking?”

“Oh pet, it is very much to my liking, I just wondered what brought this name on?” Bringing you in closer, he breathes down your neck and into your ear, whispering all the things he’d like to do with you. Every word felt like electricity was jolting through you, manoeuvring your hips into his every so often. Gentle kisses on your neck turn into nips and bites, sucking into your skin to let you know that you were entirely and utterly his. Pulling away, he brought his gloved right hand up to his mouth and pulled the glove off with his teeth before prodding two fingers into your mouth.

“Relax, we need to prepare you first.” You stop him mid movement to look behind you on his desk, looking at the lube readily there for him and yourself. He smiles at you for preparing so much, keeping a hand on the small of your back as he reaches for the little bottle, and every touch got you excited for more. Pulling back, he poured some on his fingers before steadying them at your hole. He kept his left hand gloved, watching your every squirm and twitch when he’d drag his hand down to your abdomen but would shy away from touching your cock. Eager to touch your behind however, pushing the panties aside, he was quick to delve in with his middle finger and a look crosses his face when he realises you’ve done a lot of prepping already. He made sure it was okay to push another in, looking into your eyes for a silent ‘ok’.

Of course, his fingers were much longer than your own, hitting every intimate spot within you like it was pure muscle memory. Feather-light touches whilst he plunges his fingers into you like no tomorrow, you couldn’t help but curl yourself into him from the stimulation, rutting backwards into his fingers like you were in heat every so often. He didn’t miss the little noises you made, the breathy ones and especially the desperate ones that got caught in your throat. His cool glove roamed your chest, giving little tugs to your nipples and swiping his fingers over them as his lips finally met with yours, drinking up all your gasps and moans whilst succeeding to drag more of them out of you. He lightly dragged his hand around your waist, all the way around to the small of your back. Pulling it upwards in light touches and this time you were begging him to just fuck you already, impatience clouding your mind as you wanted him now.

“I thought this was for me to indulge in. Aren’t you meant to be spoiling me, hmm?”

“I- I’m sorry… Please- I can’t take it anymore.” Removing his fingers, you whined at the sudden emptiness you were feeling and especially the painful erection you were sporting that was trapped in silk. He didn’t bother removing any of his clothes, simply unzipping and pulling his own cock out. Lifting you up to hover over him, he looked as though he was ready to devour you entirely and it made your heart quicken. When you finally sunk down onto him, it felt entirely different from before. It was like it reached even further into you, and you couldn’t help but squeeze around him tightly, forehead plastered against his.

“You look so amazing, and all of you is mine. Nobody can have you like this.” There was something carnal in his eyes, something different from what you’d seen before.

“Of course, and you’re mine as well, Ayato.”

“Have you given up on that name you have been calling me now? I do very much prefer you saying my name… But that one did have a nice ring to it, though.” His gloved hand pulled the material of the panties back, your cock slipping out and smacking your stomach, precum smearing everywhere. Hissing when his hand tugged on it, timing his slow and deep thrusts with his hand, and making sure you felt the leather of his glove properly on your cock whilst thumbing the slit every so often. He took note of every gasp and moan you made, every little movement. Genuine bliss from just seeing you enjoy yourself.

“They’ll hear you outside, pet. Or are you trying to let them know what we are doing?”

“Ayato− Just…”

“Don’t hate me in the morning.” Both hands made their way to your hips, pulling you nearly entirely off of him before slamming himself into you. Your arms flew around his neck, one short scream soon turned into nothing, not a peep left your mouth in pure shock over how deep this position let him hit. He did it again and again, wet slaps and your moans could be heard as they battered off the walls and echoed within the study, Ayato enjoying himself to the max without a shred of evidence that he’d stop any time soon. The delicious way he hit your prostate over and over, struggling to hold anything in, that embarrassment you could have felt dissipating. You whined when you came, soiling his suit jacket like you had some endless supply.

Ayato took this chance to change positions, sliding stuff across the desk to make room for you to lay on. Kissing you with a fervour you’d never seen on him before, tongues’ dancing and teeth clashing, it’s like he was desperate to consume every part of you in a short amount of time. Pulling you in by your hips, he angled them up so they’d meet his own. He pushed into you again, sliding in easily, pushing hair out of his face as his hips rolled slowly into you at a gentle pace.

“Faster…” You whined. Wanting him to be satisfied as well, which didn’t take him long to breathe out and obeying you, giving you what you wanted.

“You feel amazing, and I have this all to myself…” He slammed into you again and again, not missing the way you tried to prevent yourself from cumming again, hand gripping the base tightly. He removed your hand replacing it with his right one, playing dirty as he seen your face scrunch up and you tightening around him. That familiar knot in your stomach welling up again, but before you could let yourself cum, you reached your hands up to try and grab onto Ayato properly, wanting to hold him close. He noted, despite his blissed-out expression, smiling warmly and bending down for you to wrap your arms around him.

You whisper little ‘I love you’s between needy moans, blowing air down his neck which caused Ayato to shiver. His own needy pants, groans, and moans of your name let you know that he was close, where he buried his face into your neck. Littering wet kisses and biting your neck softly. To prevent him from escaping, you wrapped your legs around him, and he filled you up with his own release. He kept thrusting slowly, fucking his cum into you and shivering every time you squeezed around him, you released another pool of cum that still managed to get all over Ayato’s clothes. You both stay like that for a while, just holding each other close as you both catch your breaths, not really caring that the stickiness of it all was getting gross.

Ayato was the first to move, kissing up to your face and giving you a quick peck on the lips before sitting up the way. You untangled your legs that were still wrapped around him, and he slides out of you, noticing the way his cum just drips and drips out of you. He puts his cock back in his pants, noticing the mess they were in as well, before removing his jacket and using it as something to cover you up.

“Let’s go bathe together.” He had stated, helping you off of the desk and supporting you as you wobbled slightly like a baby deer.

“I feel like you’re spoiling me again…” Ayato laughs at this, shaking his head as he all but drags you to the bathroom. He sits you down on a stool when you arrive, running the bath and removing everything he was wearing. He undressed you as well, quickly getting under the small shower beside the bath to wash off quickly. After guiding you to the bath, sitting you into it and following suit by sitting behind you, he cuddled into your back as you both relaxed in the hot water.

“If this was spoiling you, then I want to know what taking care of my partner normally is like. You were amazing, I never would have thought you’d do something like that either.” He chuckled light-heartedly, kissing your shoulder blades and rubbing circles into your hips.

“Expect more to come, master.”

“Archons, what will I do with you.”

#bottom male reader #male reader #x male reader #genshin impact x male reader #anime #writing #kamisato ayato #ayato x reader #ayato x male reader #genshin x male reader #genshin imagines #genshin smut #genshin impact #genshin #fanfic #anime smut #soft top ayato

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beewolfwrites · 1 year

Note

Hiii! I've been on your blog for a while and really liked everything you wrote Chishiya related (I'm reallyyy looking forward for the new chapters in vThe Oar in the Sand", I literally spent the whole night reading your series and now I'm hungry for more of it :3)

Anyway besides screaming my love for your writing I came to humbly ask if you could write some chishiya x fem!reader, where his coworkers didnct know he had and S/O at all and are pretty shocked (honestly I ate this prompt every time)

Have a wonderful day and drink water! Can't wait to hear from you :3

Hey! Thank you so much, I hope you enjoyed the series so far, and I've started writing the next chapter of The Oar in the Sand so hopefully I'll be able to update it soon, and I may even post a little snippet of the new chapter later today :)

I really enjoyed writing this, even if it's mainly Chishiya destroying the dreams of one hopeful nurse. Your water reminder was kind of an inspiration too.

Have a wonderful day too!!

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

Long shifts were always tiring. Not so much because of the complexity of the surgeries - with my skills, even ten hour operations were manageable, and once you removed yourself emotionally even the most intricate surgeries felt mechanical. No, what drained me most was the small talk, that calm, reassuring bedside manner that I'd spent years mastering. It was like playing a role, one that I felt no familiarity towards, no joy. And then there were the questions…

‘Will I be okay, Doctor?’

‘What will happen to me? Will I be able to live a normal life?’

‘Will I see my family again?’

Such ridiculous questions. Everything in this world comes with risk. They were more likely to die in a car accident on the way to the hospital than on my operating table. And if life was simply a gamble, what difference did it make?

The hospital was quieter now as the night staff began to arrive, trading shifts with their daytime colleagues. Outside, the sky had darkened into dusk and the city skyline burned neon. I headed back to my office, shrugging off my white coat and hanging it on the wall beside a dusty looking picture that had been part of the room long before I moved in. Unfortunately, I made the mistake of leaving the office door open.

‘Chishiya-sensei?’

One of the nurses, Honoka, was lurking in the doorway, her fist raised as if she had intended to knock before seeing that I was there. She was only a couple of years older than me, but clearly lacked the ability to realise when her presence wasn’t needed. Or wanted, for that matter.

‘Honoka,’ I replied cooly. I was too drained to bother with a false smile.

Again? Let’s get this over with.

She fluttered about nervously, one hand hidden behind the door frame. How pathetic. Obviously she was hiding some kind of token - a gift, of sorts.

‘Is it a bad time? I wanted to catch you before you went home for the day.’

Losing interest already, I diverted my attention to my bag, searching through the pockets and feeling around at the base. Hospitals were funny about their rules, what you can and can’t wear due to risk of infection. Still searching, I cut to the chase.

‘Did you have something for me?’

Her jaw dropped and her eyes averted immediately. ‘How… How did…’ She shook head and revealed her hand. She was holding a bottle of strawberry flavoured water, which she immediately presented to me. ‘I just wanted to congratulate you on the surgery this afternoon.’

I glanced at the bottled water. ‘The appendectomy?’

A basic one-hour procedure… talk about grasping at straws.

‘Err, yes.’ She gulped.

She was unsure of herself now, possibly because I lacked any and all interest. Sighing, I checked one last pocket in my bag before finally finding what I was looking for. The wedding band was cool and familiar in my palm, and I slipped it on my finger.

‘Thank you Honoka,’ I said, taking the water from her. ‘I think I’ll save this for my wife. She’ll probably be tired.’

Honoka’s expression drained of all colour. ‘Your… your wife, Chishiya-sensei? You never mentioned you were married.’

I smiled - the same cheerful mask I had worn for years now. ‘I don’t believe anybody asked.’

And I don’t believe it’s anybody’s business.

I slotted the bottled water in my bag, only for Honoka to flinch. ‘I just thought you might have been thirsty.’

Hauling my bag onto my shoulder, I slipped past her in the doorway on my way out. ‘My wife likes strawberry. I’m sure she’ll appreciate it.’

I didn’t bother to look back, even though this news would spread like wildfire around the hospital staff by the next morning. I didn’t care. If anything, it was one less nuisance to deal with; Honoka, or any of the other nurses, wouldn’t be paying any impromptu visits to my office from now on. My thumb stroked the wedding band on my finger, a constant reminder of the only thing that truly mattered.

As if on cue, my phone hummed in my pocket. It started as a one-off after a bad day, but when one bad day turned into a bad week, a bad year, and then a bad workplace, your post-shift phone calls quickly became a familiar habit. Surprisingly one that I never tired of.

I picked up, skipping the greetings. ‘You’re finished already?’

‘Yep! Just heading to the car now. Where are you?’

‘What a coincidence,’ I said, using my free hand to take out my car key. The headlights flashed in the distance. ‘I’m on my way.’

You sighed on the other line, and I could hear the muffled sounds of you sliding into the driver’s seat. ‘Today’s really dragged, huh? I can’t wait to see you. It’s been terrible.’

‘Terrible, hm?’ I opened the door to my own car.

‘Yeah. I’ve been so busy! They just keep throwing work at me and I can’t keep up. None of us can. I don’t know how long I can keep working here, Shuntarou.’

‘Well,’ I said, sliding my bag into the passenger seat. ‘I’ve got a story that’ll cheer you up.’

‘A story?’

I smiled. ‘You like strawberries, right?’

#alice in borderland #chishiya #aib chishiya #chishiya shuntaro #chishiya x reader #imawa no kuni no arisu #aib

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hiswhiteknight · 5 months

Text

Unbelievably Outlandish - Part 12

Summary: Before starting down a new crossroads, the Reader goes onto an adventure of literary traveling. Suddenly tossed into an unbelievable story that has swept the world, The Outlander Series itself. How will a twenty first century woman survive?

Note: It has been a super long time since I've posted, like a year or more. I'm going to try to post weekly, but it depends on my schedule. As for a tag list, I'll be starting a new one – please send me a message to be added to the tag list. I don't always get to look through comments, so please message me.

Note Note: I own no characters, except reader, clearly this is based off the lovely book series Outlander by Diana Gabaldon and tv show. This follows more the tv show, but it’s far from accurate. I’m going to try to get better with using less proper English, but who knows maybe I’ll get into Scottish slang.

Pairing: Jamie Fraser x Female Reader

Words: 2700 (SO LONG)

Warning: Angst, playfulness, cursing, slow start

It turned out, in Angus's mind, the dog turned out to be a good distraction for you. It kept you from running around because you found yourself always training the dog. She was an angelic thing, who always got into some kind of trouble along the way. Your whole life you've been much of a rule follower, but as of recently you were finding you had a lot in common with the dog.

With this being said, you have yet to find a name you'd like for her. Often you found yourself filling the boredom by naming old fictional characters you loved when you remember the character Gilbert Blythe from Anne of Green Gables. Outside from being incredibly charming, he was intelligent, kind, and had patience and devotion for the ones he loved. You imagined you had a lot in common with Anne Shirley or you hope you did. And with that thought, you named the dog Blythe.

Jamie enjoyed watching you work with the mischievous creature. He could tell this was the first time you were filled with joy since you arrived in Scotland, "Why don't you go over and talk to the girl," Murtagh said from next to him.

He shook out of his daze, acting like he wasn't doing anything weird, "I like my bullocks, thank you."

Murtagh shook his head, "She wouldn't have that mutt if it wasn't for you, you know."

The men continue to work around and pack things away, "You and I both know she is a stubborn woman, if she wanted that dog enough she would have got it without myself or Ned mentioning a word."

"Coward," Murtagh whispered to Jamie.

"Damn right," he chuckled back.

You were working on the pups reactivity and word commands. While growing up you didn't get to have a pet, but your mother told you about when she raised dogs as a child. Your family moved around a lot, so having a pet wasn't in the cards. "Don't get too comfortable girl, we're going to be off soon," Angus barked at you from afar.

You turned around losing the smile on your face. With the time being away from the castle, you still hadn't earned much trust and you most definitely didn't give the men much energy. Outside of the pup, you were like a empty soul and it was coming to be more evident with every passing day. The dog plopped herself next to you watching Angus with her tongue out. Even Blythe was better respected and well liked by the men, even Angus though he'd deny it if anyone commented. Their acceptance of the dog made you more tolerant to their attitude and patriarchal manner. "Yes master," you bow.

"It's nice you are starting to learn your manners," he smirked back while making gestures towards the men.

With a deep inhale and low tolerance of attitude today you started to trudge towards your horse, "It was sarcasm, idiot," you grumbled.

He appeared to have the same tolerance of my attitude, "Watch your tongue girl or you'll get it cut off," Angus advanced forward while gripping his dagger.

Jamie and Murtagh were about to make a move when another man's voice appeared, "Everything alright miss," a British voice caught your attention.

Angus directed an aggressive response to the man. You turned to look at the man and in your daze started to register things about this man. He had a proper accent, boots, and his hair read a gentleman. He was clearly a British soldier and he could mean serious trouble. You turned to look at Jamie for a split second before charming a smile, "Excuse me sir," you asked, ignoring the comments from the other man to rile this man. This was not the time and place.

You could tell the tension with Dougal increased. He didn't trust what you would say, "I was asking if you were alright," he stepped forward again, ignoring the men behind you.

"Oh, I'm sorry you had to hear all that, sir. You shouldn't have had to hear a lady speak out of tune like that. It was very unbecoming of me," you looked embarrassed. Let's hope your acting skills are up to par. You ignored Murtagh mutter unbecoming to make fun of you, "It's just Angus here is a very, very, very," you paused to look at him, "Very distant cousin." You turn back to smile at the officer, "I sometimes gets so overwhelmed by his voice and tone I just lash out. I apologize," you put you hand on your heart. The dog looked up at you oddly, not recognizing your behaviors.

He smiled at you, not acknowledging the grumbling Scots behind you, "Not necessary, my lady I understand quite well actually." He bent down to scratch the puppy sitting in front of you, "I'm sorry your accent."

You scratch the back of you neck, "Right, I must sound so improper. I'm Y/N O'Mulligian. I came to visit some family here from the colonies at my brother's request. He said I could use some real life hard work. He likes to call me a debutante," you sent him a teasing smile.

Responding well to your story, he rises and smiles at you. A relief was lifted off your shoulders, you were almost past this moment when Dougal interrupted, "Enough," he shouted, "She is the guest of the clan MacKenzie and her business is none of yours." You clearly spoke too soon because the officers defenses shot back up.

"So off you go," Angus finished.

You had to stop yourself from rolling your eyes, "Are you sure you are alright, miss," he looked unshaking at you. He clearly felt so much privilege he did not care remotely about the strapping Scottish men standing around him. You wanted to smack yourself in the forehead how stupid these men had to be to not recognize the importance of this one man.

Dougal looked as if he was going to fight the man. You put your arm on his bicep to stop him, "Of course, good sir," you smile, "It's nice to know chivalry is not dead. I have more hard work to learn as you can see, it was very nice meeting you."

"Pleasure is all mine," he smiled back before frowning around the man watching this moment. He backed away into the blacksmith area to continue his work.

A minute passed by and you felt a firm grip on your arm drag you towards your horse, "It's best you didn't speak," Dougal scolded in your ear.

Anger surged through your body and it took every fiber of your being to say nothing. But as you were shoved onto your horse, you looked in the direction of the soldier and back at Jamie. You knew if you yelled it'd bring attention to Jamie, a fugitive to the English Army.

You continue to seethe on the ride. Blythe sat up, doing her best to see over the horses head to look ahead. "What's the dog's name," Jamie trotted next to you.

"Blythe," you muttered directly.

"What a cute English name," he emphasized on one word of his sentence.

You pulled back on your horse and halted, "Excuse me?"

He chose to stop with you, trying to not say directly what he'd like to say. It's been odd between you and Jamie. You weren't sure if you were pushing him away out of anger or fear, but none the less at this moment it appeared to be anger, "Nothing, it's a cute name."

A sarcastic laugh left your mouth, "No, no, you had a tone," the man halt to watch another scene unfold, "You clearly have something you want to add, some hidden message you feel you want to hide. Say it."

"Nothing, you seem to just like the English a bit more than an Irish Woman from the colonies I thought would," he said like his words meant nothing. It didn't matter the fact that maybe he felt jealous or he had a right to comment on any intention or likes you have. That comment engulfed your whole body into volcano, hell fire fiery.

Heat was written all over your face and Murtagh didn't have enough time cool down your fire with rationality, "The boy is just saying, you were awfully chummy with the Brit," Angus chimed in, "like a girl in heat."

And there goes Mt. St. Helen, "Un-Fucking believable, do you know how fucking dumb you are, like every single on of you are just egg head fucking dumb," you scream enough to make the echo quake the woods around you.

"Lass," Ned sent a warning your way.

Tears started to brim your eyes and Jamie knew he'd set you up to fail again. You point to Ned, clearly a man of reason, "That man back there," you continued to yell, "Was an English Officer out patrolling." You looked to Jamie and everything deflated in you. Everything from the past and the reality of your new world just collapsed in your soul, "I was trying to save you."

A sigh leaves your lips and you talk lightly while using your hands to emphasize your point, "Men are idiots and will always fall for charm, so I used mine to protect you all," you continued to go on, "Call me a hussy, I don't care. And that plan to charm the officer actually worked until you opened your trap, my lord," you bowed your head at Dougal. Something than broke in you, in that moment, you were exhausted at being angry. You had no more fight in you. You gave Jamie another look, "I was scared. I was trying to save you," you whisper.

Taking a deep breath, you dismounted from you horse, "Now where are you going," Angus shouted at you.

The anger stirred up again, spinning around to look at him, "To relieve myself, thank you," you speak loudly while stomping into the woods.

You knew what Dougal did to Jamie in the pubs and you weren't sure why. It wasn't much of your business, but you could see it chipping into Jamie. You were stuck again in your thoughts, give into this new world and let these people in or continue to bury who you knew you were inside a dark cave and never leave.

The ride to the next village was quiet, especially after finding Scottish men hung out on display. You wanted to vomit at the lack of humanity in the cruel act. If this was the normal the British did to Scots, I'm not all shocked of their lack of kindness and trust towards me. I'm sure I wasn't helping the matter either.

When you got to the pub, you chose to join in with the drinking. The owner made a bee line as Blythe trotted behind you and laid at your feet, "Lass, we do not let do-," he stopped mid sentence from the look you were giving him. You were sitting up straight, dead face.

"You were saying, sir," you answered curtly.

"What can I get for you miss," he finished instead.

"A pint of whatever, I am not picky," you said, resting your feet on the chair in front of you.

The men went a distance away from you, you imagine to process the thing they just witnessed. A man approached you with a smile on your face and you shake your head putting your other foot on a chair and shoving it away from your table. He quickly turn around, "You'd make more friends if you weren't so prickly."

Murtagh patted at the dog, "My expression and acts are nothing but kind, sir." He shook his head, "Plus, I don't need any more friends when I only need you."

He chuckles, looking at Jamie, "It was a kind thing you did with the soldier. I'll be the only one to admit, that was a good eye you have."

"Don't think much of it, it was also self preservation because I'm not a exactly the kind British soldiers have a keen sense to protect," the man brought you your pint and you started to drink while you viewed in your surroundings.

He pointed at you, "You like everyone to think you're this cold hearted she witch."

"Maybe I am those things," you said like it didn't bother me to have that reputation.

Murtagh shook his head, "You are quite the opposite lass and the only person you are hurting are you." You roll your eyes sighing as he looks at your with a smirk, "And maybe a red headed boy who I suspect would do anything to see you smile once again." You sit up straighter as Murtagh stands while looking at you, while gesturing to Jamie. He lifts his eyebrows speaking you the truth, "Don't think I only talk to you because your good company. I get sick of seeing the boy mope around with his worry for you. A single smile from you can set his day."

You glare at him as your cheeks warm red, "Mind your business."

When he walks away, you sit and continue to process your reality and options. Every now and again you catch a glance at Jamie. You could see his expression and the change in him over the last few weeks. You stand walking your glass over to the bar with Blythe walking behind you. You could tell Dougal was about to start his speech. He wouldn't need Jamie today if you guessed right. Those hanging men were part of this community they didn't need to see Jamie's scars. You leaned against a pillar near Jamie, "You alright," you asked him catching eyes with Murtagh.

You shake off his knowing look. Jamie stood up straight looking at you bewildered from the sudden change in your demeanor, "Are you talking to me?"

"Don't make it a thing, just answer the question," you whisper.

"Aye, I'm fine," he whispers back, glancing at you for a second too long into silence. He clears his thoughts, "If you don't mind me asking, what changed your mind with speaking to me?"

You smirk, "Murtagh paid me."

He shook his head, "Sure," he was trying to hold back a smile. Something appeared to pop up in his head, "Look Deoiridh, I'm sorry about."

"No," you stopped him, "Jamie, I'm stubborn and I don't know what I'm doing. I'm not from a place like this, so."

You noticed a change in his eyes when you said his name instead of Mr. MacTavish. This is where he stopped you, "I only want to help."

"Does that mean you agree I'm stubborn because Murtagh implied I was prickly earlier and that's why I don't make friends," you say while trying to hold back a grin.

He shook his head making his red hair shake with it, “You see comments like that are a trap and I will not be stepping on that one.”

“Smart man,” you say to him.

“And now a compliment, I might think you are wanting to be my friend again,” he whispered back with a smirk.

You see Dougal getting ready to do your speech, “I should be getting out of here and up to my room. I shouldn’t be down here when,” you stopped to look at Dougal, “Well good night.”

“Goodnight Y/N,” he whispered back.

“And Jamie, just for transparency sake, the jury is still out if we are friends,” he paused appearing to hold his breath. You offer a small smile, “I need you to walk over to Murtagh and tell him I was nice then I'll consider being your friend. You know for the sake of proving Murtagh wrong. It's the price you have to pay for my friendship.” And before he can respond, you and Blythe make your way upstairs.

#outlander fanfiction #outlander imagine #jamie fraser imagines #fanfiction #outlander #jamie fraser x reader #jamie fraser imagine #jamie frazier x reader #unbelievably Outlandish

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tflaw · 1 year

Text

— STONE COLD $OBER.

It is a birthday gift he will not forget anytime soon.

꒰ა ❤︎ ໒꒱ . . . kaeya alberich x afab!reader. knight!reader. reader is implied to be smaller than kaeya. unprotected. fingering. cunnilingus. exhibitionism.

++ kaeya soooo flirty ! i love him . the only man ever <3 this is for the kaeya nation && for his birthday <3 i had sm fun writing this one and i hope you'll get to feel the same joy while reading !! lots of luv <3

There is a sense of foreboding in the City of the Wind. It crawls like insects along the spine of both Knights and Adventurers alike. Having witnessed and heard the dire situations outside the solid walls of the city, it is easy to map the unease across the faces of Mondstadt’s protectors.

Clouds gathered above the towering Cathedral like blocks of grey stone hiding the sun, allowing only its bursting rays to escape and provide scarce light. It will pour soon, no doubt. A signal to make haste.

“What?” You turn away from your stallion to face the junior knight standing nervously before you. His lashes flutter in anxiety, mouth slightly trembling. “He needs me now? And it’s urgent?” you pump each word with disbelief.

“Y… yes, Lieutenant,” he replies. “Captain Kaeya said to meet him at his office as soon as possible. And he… he won’t dismiss me unless you visit him before leaving.”

To rein in your fragile patience, you inhale a good amount of air while looking up at the dark clouds. He had all the time to summon you earlier but he did not. You only have him to blame if anything goes awry and if you end up behind schedule.

“Hold this. I’ll be back shortly.” You push the reins to the knight’s hands before making your way inside the Headquarters.

Knights have been running to and fro in preparation for a week’s expedition to the forests led by the Acting Grand Master, Jean. The Abyss Mages have been restless, daring so much as to harass the people in Springvale. Carts have also gone missing and burned, resulting in delayed supplies and a fearful Mondstadt.

Captain Kaeya is looking down at the preparation from his windows when you barged in. Along with an empty bottle of Dandelion Wine, there are scattered papers on his oak table and crumpled ones littered over the floor. From the far corner of the room, a divan is placed with folded sheets atop it, which divulged all that you need to know about Kaeya’s sleeping schedule as of late.

“Captain, you summoned for me?” You concealed your exasperation with flat curiosity, standing straight and saluting.

He slews around and whatever it is that has been marring his face disappeared in an instant. “Ah, yes,” he says, examining your body from the head down while leaning one hand on his table to gather some parchments. “I’ve deduced that I need someone to lend me a hand inside the walls. Work has been piling up—” he says while waving the paper across the width of the oak table to make a point, “— as you can see.”

“I’ll ask Otto to stay, then—”

“Otto is not who I need,” he interrupts, shooting you with a knowing stare.

Fathoming out straight away the meaning behind his reply, your shoulders tighten. “The situation is dire, Captain. They’ve called for reinforcements,” is your determined response.

“And?” Kaeya spreads the parchments on the wooden surface, wearing the pretense of observing the letters. “You are needed here, too.”

You would have gawked at him had you not considered his reaction before storming into his workroom. Kaeya seldom utters dissent against your plans, especially when it’s for the sake of Mondstadt. However, something stirred up in the air between you after a drunk night at Angel’s Share.

It left a bitter taste on your tongue thinking that his reluctance to let you go had something to do with a night of yours and his clothes scattered around his floor. Skin kissing skin as you find refuge in each other’s lips.

“I won’t— can’t— abandon my squad, Captain,” you insist. He would need to rope you down some posts if he truly wishes to stop you.

“What about your grandmother, then? You’d leave her during this storm?” His good eye bore into you: the periwinkle having the glint of mystery.

Your heart softens only a fraction at the mention of your beloved grandmother. It’s true that she is the sole reason for your reluctance over the past few days. Coming back from your reverie, you clear your throat. “Miss Mona has been so kind as to reassure me that she would look after Granny.”

“Mona?” He slapped the paper on the table and stared at you as if affronted. “Why Mona?”

“Because she lives next door…?” You cannot decipher his current disposition. Why would it offend him in the first place? “Look, Captain,” you sigh, “I would love to lend you a hand but we are needed outside.”

Rendered silent for a moment, Kaeya grips the table’s edge with both hands. He must’ve found himself strange for the way he acts and decided to shake his head.

“Then,” he continues, “you will not be here on the 30th?”

Your confusion deepens. “No. I’m afraid I will not.”

Kaeya gives a grim nod before dismissing you with a shrouded expression. An expression you did not have the explanation for until you hopped on your stallion.

It is Kaeya’s birthday on the 30th, and you will not be here to celebrate with him. Feeling as though your heart has turned lead, you ventured quickly to the blacksmith before bidding Mondstadt goodbye.

—

Fending off Abyss Mages and destroying hilichurl camps have never been this severe. Usually, a group of Knights could finish the job in less than a week.

Looking at the carnage before you with the grunts and whimpers of your comrades as background noises just strengthened Cyrus’ warning before you were dispatched.

Something is definitely amiss. Aside from the Fatui constantly and condescendingly browbeating Mondstadt, the Abyss Mages has also become more than a nuisance.

Days of fighting had dried your supplies. Blades have gone dull and many ended up injured. Even with the help of your Visions, it had been a rough week against the Abyss. You can barely consider it victory from the damages your squad obtained.

However, you convince yourself that the gashes and bruises are worth it as you drew closer to the city gates, where a crowd has gathered to greet the approaching Knights.

“Oh, thank Lord Barbatos!” your grandmother exhales, caging you in her arms like how she did when you were a kid. “Thank Lord Barbatos for bringing you back to me, sweet child!”

The longing for home seized you at once. You haven’t been able to stop the tears as you sob in her embrace.

“Oh, my sweet grandchild,” she cooed, patting your back to salve the quiver of your shoulders. “There, there. It’s alright. I have something to make you feel better.”

“What is it, Granny?” You sniff, wiping your tears with the back of your hand.

“I have prepared you your favorite meal!” she squeaks, folding your hand inside hers. “Come, come!”

You let her tug you inside the city with a giggle. Before you part ways with the crowd, your eyes spotted Kaeya near the antique shop. He acknowledges you with a slight nod, which you answered with a smile. You have no explanation for it, but your heart skyrocketed at his sight.

“You ought to thank the Captain for me,” Granny says with a bright smile on her face, noticing the exchange between you and Kaeya. “He visited day and night since the day you left. And every time he did, he had with him a meal or two. A gallant and handsome young man who cares for the elderly: his likeness is not so common nowadays.”

Come eventide, the zest in its infinitesimal degree continues to grow in the pit of your stomach as you make your way to Angel’s Share. You have put a strict order in your nerves, feeling as though they are in a frenzy for thinking about Kaeya and the weight of your birthday gift in hand. Although dog-tired and weary, you wouldn’t sleep peacefully if another day ends without meeting the Captain.

It’s a peculiar feeling, you must say. Your days outside of Mondstadt had been occupied with endless fighting, but after each tedious day, you found yourself yearning for home. For your grandmother and for… Kaeya. Your duty certainly has put a leash on the growing habit of thinking about the Captain, and yet you feel its fetters shattering once the chaos of Angel’s Share looms ahead.

Over the songs and joyous conversation, you search the crowd but Kaeya is missing on his usual spot. Rosaria and Venti the Bard sit and share a bottle, their cheeks already flushed from the alcohol they have ingested.

“Oh? Are you looking for someone?” Venti notices your standing frame and waves. “Why don’t you sit for a while?”

Your lips stretch to a smile, seeing your friends’ familiar faces after days of being away. “I’m looking for Captain Kaeya. Was he here by any chance?”

“He had just gone out,” Rosaria answers while swirling the ice in her glass. “Not in the mood to drink himself senseless, I suppose.”

“Hm. That’s new. The wind is certainly changing. What do you think, my friend?” Venti slurs, pointing the question to you.

“It is certainly unusual.” As doubt creeps in, you grip the box tightly. “I shall leave you two, then.”

“Will you come back?” Rosaria looks at you over the rim of her glass.

“We will see.”

The air is invigorating outside the pub. Fresh and new like a promise of peace after the gruesome weeks. It has cleared your mind, reminding you once again that you are home and safe.

You run a finger over the simple wooden box which encased your gift. The zeal you have felt now poisoned by trepidation. Why are you even nervous in the first place? It’s a gift from a friend to a friend. Who knows? Maybe it is far too simple compared to the ones Kaeya have received. If such is the case, you wouldn’t have to worry about him getting the wrong message. And what sort of message did you want to convey? Seeking him the night of your return, when you should be fast asleep to regain your strength?

Luckily, the knights posted in front of the Headquarters have seen Kaeya ascend to the rooftop.

He is alone when you found him, arms leaning over the parapet while looking at the horizon where the distant plains and mountains gathered.

“How was your birthday, Captain?” you say as a greeting.

He turns his head to see you, lips tugging up to a soft smile before returning his gaze to the view. “As one would expect: anticlimactic,” he rasps.

“Anticlimactic? The birthday of Kaeya Alberich was anticlimactic?” A soft giggle resonates from you paired with his own. As he laughs, you have taken the chance to admire his features.

There is certain obscurity in the way he carries himself, like a sharpened knife ready to strike any minute. However, it is also easy to be enamored when he walks by. He is like a forbidden fruit you would die to taste.

“Yes. I couldn’t put myself to celebrate when danger hovers over Mondstadt,” he answers, swerving his attention to you without warning that you fear he caught you staring.

“You did not indulge in any kind of celebrations, then?” Your heart begins to run errant, for some reasons unknown. And you wonder if it’s the same for him. If he is as delighted as you about this reunion.

He shrugs. “I shared a drink with Rosaria and the Bard. Lisa was there, too, but she had to go back early to the library. And well… Diluc gifted me a bottle of wine and stayed until we were done drinking. I guess that accounts for something.”

“How about we drink tonight?” you offer, searching for his face. “Let me make it up to you.”

Kaeya huffs as a smile shapes his handsome face to glee. “Just don’t expect me to carry you home once you end up too inebriated to walk.”

“Likewise, Captain,” is your quick riposte. He pushes his spine straight, ready to descend when you suddenly raised the box before him like a bashful teenager. “But… but before anything else… take this. My gift to you.”

“A gift?” he repeats, eyebrow raised to his forehead. His fingers brush against yours when he took the box from your hand. With care, he unfastened the small latch. And as the moon reflects on the gift, a beam of light was cast on Kaeya’s face. He looks at you, then, periwinkle iris glazed with wonderment. Like a child receiving a new toy, he sounds amused when he said: “A Vision case?”

Heart soaring at the reaction, you nod eagerly. “Yes.”

“It’s… perfect,” he almost gasps the last word, which made it all better. He is elegant in many ways: cards close to his sleeves. Seldom would the Captain show his boyish side.

You are somehow awed by his animation.

“Well,” you huff, “it should be. It is made by Wagner, after all.”

His head shoots up. “Wagner? The blacksmith? This was not a purchase, then?”

“No. I…” You breathe. The crisp air proves inadequate to blow away the warmth on your cheeks. Now that you have to tell him the manner in which the Vision case has been made, fear solidified in your chest. However, he encourages you to speak with the bob of his chin. “I hope you wouldn’t find it vain that the gift was fashioned from my melted dagger. I… I had only realized your birthday approaching the day of my departure. And so, I had no time to prepare for a proper gift—”

The metal presses coolly on your cheek when Kaeya has taken your face and captured your lips. His lips are demanding, and despite your confusion, you answered his kisses with the same fervor. He spins you around so your back is against the balustrade before the kiss deepened, addling your brain and blocking all thoughts.

The both of you are running out of air when he pulled away. His eyes are hazy with something you couldn’t quite name.

“I… I do not want to drink,” he says, breath fanning your lips. “I want to do this while I’m sober.”

“Fuck me, Kaeya.” A newfound courage blossoms in your heart, stupefying the Captain as he tenses under your touch.

“Say that again,” he grits, jaws tight.

“Fuck me.” You grip his collar and shake him lightly. “Do you want to fuck me?”

It is as if the air has been all knocked out of his lungs. He takes a huge gulp of the night air and says, “Archons, all the time. All the time.”

You have become driftwood after that point in time, allowing the crashing tides to carry you whither. All that you know is the air blowing between your thighs, Kaeya discarding his gloves, kneeling, and pushing his head between your legs as you stand clinging to the balustrade.

“Captain…” Your voice trembles when he kisses your exposed cunt. The thrill of being half naked on the Headquarters’ rooftop adds to your pleasure.

“More,” he whispers. “I need you ready.”

You clamp a hand on your mouth when he pushes two fingers in while licking the clit. From where you stand, you can see the knights posted outside, clueless as to what is happening above them. Suddenly, the other guy tilts his head up and meets your eyes at the same time Kaeya scissors his fingers through your pussy. The guy salutes and you, weak and melting, raise a shivering hand to wave.

He could go on forever, you think. Kaeya could stay here for eternity with his tongue on your pussy and his fingers diving in your insides.

“Ah—” you gasp, nails raking the rough stone of the parapet. “C… Captain!” Legs trembling, your heart sinks as the men from below tilt both their head up. You force a toothed smile to cover your embarrassment.

Your hand bolts to his hair, tugging a handful before pressing your pussy down on his mouth. “Archons, Captain, I’m cumming—”

At your signal, Kaeya grabs your flesh, sucking in your cunt long and hard until you spasm above him. Eyesight blurry, your mouth went ajar and your chest begins to pound: the climax hitting you hard. Kaeya laps you clean before standing up and unbuckles his belt.

You shared a sloppy kiss while he pumps himself with one hand. Kaeya positions from behind, lining his erect cock to your entrance. Its soft crown presses against your wet hole, eliciting a whiny moan from you.

Overwhelmed with anticipation, your mind instantly evaporates when he rams himself in. He gasps onto your neck, grabbing your waist to pin his cock. You shiver, feeling him all up inside your walls, sporadically spasming and jamming his whole shaft through your slabbering cunt hole.

“C… Captain…” you mewl, pushing away from the balustrade before letting yourself go completely. You have not a mind to think as each thought turn to mush with his fevered thrust. Archons, it feels good to be fucked like this, is all you could think of— or your poor attempt at thinking.

He is vehement, sliding one hand inside your shirt as he hugs both your arms, locking them behind you. Your swollen breast pops out of the fabric covering it while the other one remains restrained. He flicks your rigid nipple, whispering in your ear how much he wants to suckle on the bud.

It is lewd. Everything about the skin slapping skin and the sweat trickling from where you are connected is lewd that it makes your heart ache and rejoice. No matter how ironic it is.

He is fucking you like how you deserved: hot, needy, and greedy. Balls deep and straight up to your guts. He leans and reaches for your abandoned clit, rubbing it with his middle finger. Your legs immediately clamped together, trembling hand reaching for his wrist.

“I’m going to cum!” you sob in ecstasy, chasing your breath in such an agonizing manner. “K… Kaeya!”

“Can I do it inside? Is it safe?” he bombards the question, moaning after like a man depraved of meat.

“Ah, yes,” you exhale, cunt twitching when you felt him become even more rigid. “Yes! Yes!”

At the permission, he sheathes himself inside you to the root, giving you one profound pounding that reached your insides. And then he is shooting thick amounts of white cum into your womb, holding you tightly so that you cannot move.

You quiver in his arms, lost and panting after such intense battering. In absolute dissolution, he holds you as both of your bodies slide down.

What transpired on the rooftop did not satiate your lust. Behind his office doors, you begin to think that it merely scratches the surface of the wanting that you seek to satisfy.

Inside his office, you have thrown all inhibitions and rode him until your knees began stinging and until he couldn’t physically cum anymore. Even after all the exhausting fucking, it was not enough. The first thing you have done after waking up was to fuck again, until both your legs are shivering from the high and none of you can stand anymore.

Another day burst into the skies of Mondstadt. The sun rises from the horizon, a ball of fire that gathered all living things to one promise of a hard-fought peace.

Knights are scattered around the Headquarters when you finally managed to flee from Kaeya’s grip, albeit reluctantly. With sensitive thighs, you have gone straight to the exit, ignoring the curious looks of knights thrown at you. At this point, it is not a secret that you have been seeing the Captain for reasons that encompass your duty. However, it is nobody’s business and you doubt anyone has the guts to confront you or Kaeya.

“So, you slept in his office?”

You turn to see Lisa leaving the library. She looks at you cheekily, as if trying to read your face. “No. I did not. I visited him early this morning,” is your jovial reply. Lisa knows it, too, no doubt.

“Wearing the same clothes from last night?” She elbows your ribs playfully.

Cackling heartily, you hop from one stair to the next. “I need to wash. See you around, Lisa.”

Later that afternoon, Jean called for an impromptu meeting to fill in the rest of KoF about the recent expeditions. Despite the wounded and the sight of bandages wrapped around the heads of numbered knights, there is glee circulating the air.

“Lieutenant, one might think you’re in good spirits today. Has anything happened?”

You shrug, daring him with coquettish eyes. “Oh, I have had a deep sleep is all. I guess it is good to be home.”

His mouth curls up to a grin. Kaeya pushes closer to you, leaning to whisper, “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Like what?” you challenge.

“Like you want me to fuck you.”

You swallow a gasp, doing your utmost to remain composed. “Maybe I do.”

Kaeya’s breath is warm on your cheek. Personal space is definitely lost in his vocabulary as he inched closer again. “Lieutenant, that’s a proposition I’m more than willing to oblige. Tonight, then?”

“Why not now?”

Your question has stolen the grin from his lips. Light crosses his eyes before tilting his head up slightly and releasing a throated chuckle. He gathers your hand ever so inconspicuously, squeezing your delicate fingers, and says, “Ah, I am so doomed.”

#genshin x reader #genshin smut #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact smut #kaeya smut #kaeya x reader #kaeya alberich x reader #kaeya alberich smut #kaeya x you #kaeya x y/n #genshin x you #genshin x y/n

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artiststarme · 1 year

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No Steves Allowed!

Okay guys, I decided to the DnD one first today but I'll probably end up posting the parent fic today too. I've never actually played DnD so if this doesn't make sense, let me know! I hope you guys like it and please leave your thoughts in the comments.

~*~*~*~

Eddie wasn’t a big fan of rules, or setting boundaries, or partaking in any form of mass conformity. When he made his DnD club, he wanted it to be a safe space for all the outsiders and outcasts to relax and enjoy their high school years. (And join his DnD campaigns so he could torture them but that was neither here nor there). However, there was one rule that was non-negotiable and grounds for immediate character damage and death.

There was to be no mention of Steve Harrington.

It didn’t matter if he was your partner in chemistry for a project or if you were complaining about his crony bumping into you in the hall, no one was allowed to mention him by name or otherwise as soon as Eddie stepped into the drama room. This confused the original Hellfire members as well as their successors but everyone conceded eventually. Especially when mentions of Steve brought about the painful and horrific deaths of their characters.

Gareth, the little shit that he is, tempted the rule the most, even still. Even after all of the characters he’s lost (one named Stephen that was beheaded by a griffin carrying a blade from a fallen half-elf soldier and several others that tried to work the name ‘Steve’ into a background story), he still liked to poke the bear at least once a campaign.

“Galahad, it’s your play. What course of action will you take to persuade the innkeeper into allowing you and your friends a place of slumber for the night?” Eddie asked him, his voice firm and powerful as he enveloped his Dungeon Master persona.

He already regretted giving him the chance to speak after he saw a slow smirk spread across his face. “Well, dear Dungeon Master, I think I’m going to go back to the bar and collect my friend Stephen Nicehair. Then I’ll use his looks and luscious locks to seduce the innkeeper into giving us beds.”

Eddie could feel his left eye twitching in annoyance. ‘Stephen Nicehair’? That’s the best Gareth could do?

“As you turn around to go back to the bar, you hear the innkeeper release a battle cry. He drops the pillows in his hands to reveal a cursed dagger with an obsidian blade. The previously friendly man plunges the dagger into your chest without hesitation and twists it in your heart to deliver maximum pain. Roll damage.”

Gareth sighed but rolled his dice, “six.”

“As the life fades out of your eyes, the innkeeper leans in closer to your face and whispers, ‘no one tries to outsmart me in my inn’. You die just as you lived… Pathetically. Galahad the Bad is now dead, existing on the floor of the inn in a pool of blood with the dagger still protruding from his rib cage. Your party is now cursed by the Goddess of Death because your blood was spilled on the cursed obsidian blade. ‘Til next time, boys.”

The entire Party was silent for a moment in shock until Dustin loudly erupted. “What the hell was that?! The innkeeper? Eddie, he’s an NPC that was supposed to offer us shelter after saving the town, what the fuck?”

Jeff shook his head at him and patted Dustin’s shoulder, “hey man, Eddie really doesn’t like it when people break his rules. It’s better not to question the consequences.”

“What rules?” He turned to Eddie to point an accusing finger at him. “You said that you hated rules because they forced conformity onto people outside the mold. And all he did was say he was going to get his friend Stephen to help!”

Eddie’s eyes flashed dangerously as he leaned in closer to Dustin. “Roll for initiative and persuasion.”

“Eddie-”

“Roll Henderson!” He screamed.

Dustin sighed brattily but rolled the dice as directed, “fourteen for initiative and ten for persuasion with my modifier.”

Eddie grinned at him maniacally. “Elric steps up to the innkeeper to try and appease him of his anger only for the man to pull another dagger from his cloak and slice it across Elric’s neck. You can feel the warmth of the blood spill down your front and feel some of the traitorous liquid bubble into your mouth and through your lips. You can’t breathe and can only gurgle a single question. What do you ask?”

“I ask him why he killed me!” Dustin said, a mixture of alarm, shock, and outrage in his voice.

Eddie leaned in close to him, the evil glint in his eye still fully present and terrifying. He switches his cadence to match the hoarse voice of the innkeeper and says, “‘You can’t speak of Stephen or any of his aliases and stay in the world of the living.’ Elric falls to the ground and bleeds out all over the floor. The innkeeper steps over your useless body and says to your Party, ‘It’s a no to the shelter, take the bodies of your compatriots and leave or face the same fate.’”

Mike looks pissed and Lucas looks shocked at the turn this relatively happy session took. Meanwhile, Jeff and Grant were busy alternating their glares between Gareth and Eddie. Dustin just looked flabbergasted that his bard was murdered so callously by what he thought would be an innocent NPC.

“Alright, let’s pause there for now and we’ll pick it up next week. Some of you have new characters to make. Also, as a reminder to the senior members and a precaution for the new members, there will be absolutely no mention of Steve Harrington. Thank you, you’re adjourned.” Eddie spoke and waved them off.

“What? But Steve-”

“I said adjourned, Henderson!” And from that moment on, Steve wasn’t mentioned at Hellfire. The kids slipped up here and there, especially given their hero worship of the guy but no one said his name aloud again in fear of losing another character. But then Eddie experienced the Spring Break from hell, found out that Steve Harrington was actually a pretty good guy, and started dating him.

The rule posed a problem once Eddie was finally able to talk Steve into joining a one-shot campaign. It took months of dating and illicit promises to get Steve to make a character, honorably named Steeb Munsington, and sit down with all of Hellfire to play.

“So how’s this supposed to work? Are we just ignoring Steeb the entire campaign?” Lucas asked him.

“What why? Why are you ignoring me? Did I do something?” Steve looked adorably alarmed and glanced concernedly between Lucas and Eddie.

Lucas patted his hand from his seat next to him. “Eddie has a rule about bringing you up during a session. If we mention you, our character gets serious hit points. No offense man, but I’m not taking that chance.”

Steve turned to Eddie with a hurt look. Oh shit, he had to fix this quick.

“Obviously it’s void now! Obviously guys, shut up.” He turned to Steve. “Don’t worry Stevie, that was a joke.”

“Oh was it a joke when you murdered Elric the Bard for questioning Galahad’s unfair demise?!”

“Henderson, shut your mouth right now or you can kiss Kalston the Killer goodbye right now.” When he opened his mouth to argue, Eddie cut him off again. “The rule is clearly void now! I only had the rule in the first place so you guys wouldn’t be able to tease me about my crush on Steve. Now we’re dating so it’s fine. The rule has been discredited, no more capital punishment for mentioning his name.”

“You’re dating?!” Dustin screamed in shock. Eddie sent a panicked glance at Steve who was glaring at him with his arms crossed over his chest. He wouldn’t be getting any help from him.

“You’re gay?” Mike muttered in bafflement. Wow, nothing got past that kid.

“You murdered eleven of my characters because of a crush?” Gareth shrieked, his face turning red in anger.

Will stared at the two of them in shock while the rest of the Party raised their voices in uproar. He was completely frozen while insults and accusations were thrown, thankfully more due to the fact that Eddie had gone on a rampage as DM rather than them being gay. How were they not focusing on the gay comment?

“Not just a crush anymore, he’s been my boyfriend for months! And if you had stopped violating my rule, they wouldn’t have died! Anyways, let’s let bygones be bygones and move along with our campaign. We only have eight hours to get this done today before the sheep have curfew.” Eddie clapped his hands and grinned.

Jeff shook his head at him and Grant muttered angrily under his breath. Gareth, though, exploded. “You murdered a shit ton of my characters for even saying words that sounded like Steve! And now you just want us to move along because you’re dating the guy now! Congratulations by the way, we all noticed you seemed happier lately. Steve, if you hurt him, I’ll kill you like he killed all of my characters for even saying your name. What the fuck, Eddie?!”

“Jesus Christ, it was a long time ago! If you drop this, I’ll give everyone extra XP to start, okay? Double.” Gareth was still glaring at him. “Triple.”

“Fine but deep down, I’m still pissed off.” Gareth muttered.

“Noted, now let’s start. Stevie, I can help you out if you need it. Steeb is going to do great, I’m sure. I’m not above torturing my friends when it comes to you, okay?”

“Eddie!” Everyone besides him and Steve yelled. Ah yes, this was going to be a good gameday indeed.

Permanent tag list: @doubleb11 @nburkhardt @zerokrox-blog @newtstabber @i-less-than-three-you @carlyv @pyrohonk @straight4joekeery @trippypancakes @conversesweetheart @estrellami-1 @suddenlyinlove @yikes-a-bee @swimmingbirdrunningrock @perseus-notjackson @anaibis @merricatty @maya-custodios-dionach @grtwdsmwhr @manda-panda-monium @lumoschild @goodolefashionedloverboi @mentallyundone @awkwardgravity1

#Steve does end up playing but he would much rather just watch from behind Eddie's screen #Dustin can't believe they told him they were dating like that #Steve is pissed at Eddie for outing them at first but forgives him once he brings him lunch and flowers to Family Video the next day #Robin doesn't forgive so easily #stranger things #steddie #fanfic #steve harrington #eddie munson #gareth emerson #jeff #grant #dustin henderson #mike wheeler #lucas sinclair

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daryl-dixon-daydreams · 1 year

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Words: 4,162 Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader Reader pronouns: she/her Era: S10/S11, The Reapers Warnings: language, mentions of injury A/N: This is part of a series! You can find the rest on my Master List, the pinned post on my blog.

Summary: Injured and scattered, the group tries to find each other.

Your name: submit What is this?

Daryl,

Our son is two years old today. You wouldn’t believe how much he’s changed in only the last few months. It used to be that you could only make out baby babble with a few words here and there, and now he’s stringing together full sentences, expressing his own original thoughts. He looks less like a toddler every day and more and more like a little kid, soon to be asking questions about the world that will be harder and harder for me to answer. He reminds me of you in so many ways and I hold onto this part of you extra tight. When I think of how much you’ve missed of his little life, of all the milestones we’ve already passed, every part of me aches, and to know he’s missed out on having you too... that hurts even worse. I know you would be the most amazing dad. You love as fiercely as anyone could.

When I think of you at all, it nearly stops me to a grinding halt, could bring me to my knees, the pain is still that sharp. If we never find each other again, I think I’ll walk around forever with this poignant sense of something profound missing. It’s hard to write this, but if it wasn’t for DJ, I may have given up by now… But if I know anything, it’s that you’re out there somewhere, still alive, still surviving, still protecting the people you love. I know that beyond any doubt, because that’s who you are. I just hope that in our continued wandering that we find some sign of you. I don’t know what it would be—but Jen keeps telling me not to give up hope, to trust that my intuition is right.

I’m not having that dream anymore—the one I wrote about before where you’re calling for me from the other side of the glass—but lately I’ve been having a new one. I find you again, out in the woods, wandering, and then the next moment you’ve vanished. It’s almost worse than the last dream, because I think I have you and then a moment later I lose you all over again. It feels so unbelievably real. I wake up completely gutted with my cheeks wet. I have to reach for DJ every time.

God, I miss you.

It’s hitting me hard today, on DJ’s birthday. I hope you’re safe wherever you are…

With love, Y/N Daryl was mentally running through the parts of your book he’d already read, and wishing he’d made the time to read more, but he was also thanking himself for not bringing it along. He was certain The Reapers had gone through his pack. He didn’t know what would have happened if Leah had found it… She’d know he’d found you again and then all of this—his pretended disconnection from “those people on the road” and the implied feelings he was manufacturing for her—it wouldn’t have been available for him to try to keep his family and Alexandria safe.

His hand strayed to the left breast of his vest and he could feel the stiffness of the picture in the lining. It was comforting. He hadn’t slept. He was too afraid to. His mind was too busy. He laid on his back on a cot, far off in a corner, and waited.

It had to be near first light when he heard bootsteps coming up the hallway outside. He turned his ear toward the sound, listening intently for anything else that could signal what was happening.

Carver showed up in the doorway. “Get up, dickhead,” he spat. “We’re moving on that info.”

_ _ _ _ _ _

A hand on your shoulder shook you awake and you startled at the sudden jolt.

“Easy.” Negan’s voice. His hazel eyes were looking right into yours beneath his raised eyebrows. The point of your blade was at his throat.

You let out the breath you’d been holding and lowered it.

Negan was in front of you, palms out. He relaxed as your knife left his neck. “I’m a little worried that reflex isn’t going to stop short one of these times,” he said.

You shifted so you could better sit up against the back of the dingy armchair. “Then stop surprising me,” you said. You winced as you moved and couldn’t help drawing in a sharp hiss of breath between your teeth. Your side, the knife wound from The Reapers, felt like it was on fire. “Fuck…” you murmured, shifting to attempt to relieve the worst of the pain to little success.

Negan’s brow furrowed. “How ya feelin’?” You thought you could hear genuine concern in his voice.

You shook your head. “Not at my best, but I’ve had worse,” you said.

He went on frowning at you. He swept a hand back over his short hair. “I don’t doubt it but, uhh, no offense… you look like shit. I don’t think the whole pale, graying skin thing suits you at all. I woke you up because I was starting to get a little paranoid that you might not wake up.”

You rolled your eyes. “Stop being so dramatic,” you scolded him.

Negan gave you a small tight smile despite the situation. “Can’t. Drama. Theater… It’s kind of my thing,” he retorted. He watched as you pulled your shirt up to look at the wound on your side. The surrounding area and the wound itself were an angry shade of red.

Negan saw it. “Well, fuck. That doesn’t look good.”

You closed your eyes for a moment and leaned back against the chair. You’d flushed the stab wound out as best you could and applied ointment but it didn’t seem to have been enough. “No shit,” you said. “Any other earth-shattering observations you want to hit me with?”

Negan let out a dry laugh and straightened up, grabbing his crowbar from where it was leaning against a dusty couch and swinging it absently. “You know, I am actually trying to help you here. You see anybody else around?”

You sighed. “Right. Right… Sorry. Just—this whole situation is—”

“Complete and utter-fucked, five ways ‘til Friday bullshit?” Negan finished for you.

You gave him a long look but eventually nodded. “Yeah.” You pulled your shirt up again and looked at the neatly stitched wound. Negan had helped you with that the night before, and you had to hand it to him that he’d done a good job. “It’s a local infection or the start of one,” you said softly. You paused to think. You had limited medical supplies left and had used the last of the antibacterial ointment the night before patching up your side and Negan’s leg.

“Alright, so, can we kick its ass before it becomes un-local? From what I hear, that’s something to avoid, what with the lack of hospitals and meds these days.”

You chewed anxiously on your bottom lip. The burning and pulse you could feel in your whole side made it hard to think. “Hopefully…”

He stared at you for a long moment, his expression darkening like a cloud passing across the face of the moon. “You have a fever?” he asked, and you heard some apprehension in his voice.

You shook your head. “I don’t think so.” You mopped at the cold sweat on your brow even as you answered, but you were pretty sure that was just from the pain.

Negan cleared his throat and stepped closer hesitantly. “Can I check without you slitting my throat?” he asked. “I’ve actually already had that done, courtesy of Rick, and it isn’t something I’d like to repeat.”

“Fine.”

He bent his tall frame and put the back of his hand on your forehead. He shook his head and let out a hugely relieved sigh. “No. No, I think you’re good.” You gave him a questioning look. “I had the thought that maybe they’d coated their blades… so that anyone that didn’t die right away would go full-blown undead asshole.”

You fixed a steely stare on him. “Oh, you mean like you did. To the Hilltop.”

Negan gulped and his face fell. His eyes turned down to the floor. “Maggie told you about that, huh?” he said softly.

“Mhm…”

“Yeah. That was pretty fucked up.” He was still avoiding your eyes. “But it was effective...”

“Negan—” you started angrily.

“Hey, I’m just stating a fact! And to be fair, it was a fucking war! I was looking after my own the same way—” he broke off abruptly at the look on your face.

You shook your head. “No. Not the same way I do. Not the same way they were. Not even close.”

“So, you’re telling me that you’ve never done anything royally fucked up to keep yourself or people you care about alive? Hmm? Doll,” he said, swinging his crowbar up onto his shoulder, a smirk on his face, “I ain’t buyin’ it.”

You scowled at him. “Don’t call me ‘doll.’ In fact, let’s just table any more nicknames you’ve got floating around in your head. And let’s get one thing straight, Negan. You didn’t care about those people at The Sanctuary. You gave them barely enough to stay alive and it wasn’t even a life. The only person you actually gave a shit about was yourself. And have I done fucked up shit? Yeah. Plenty. To keep me and my son alive… not to set myself up as some sort of wannabe god to assuage my bloated ego,” you spat at him, wincing and putting a hand over your side again and shutting your eyes.

There was a tense pause and then Negan rubbed a hand over the back of his neck and another small laugh escaped him. “I can’t really argue with most of that. You’re right. And I see that Maggie and Daryl have been pretty thorough in catching you up already.” He sighed and sank back down on the wooden chair across the room from you. “But none of that shit matters right now. So, what do we do about your tidy little ticking time bomb there? You have any more of that—”

“No, we used almost everything up last night,” you interrupted him.

Negan laughed humorously. “Now let me make something clear here; you’ve gotta be okay,” he said emphatically. “If something happens to you while you’re with me, Daryl will fucking murder me. That is not an exaggeration. No, he won’t just murder me—he’d probably carve off little pieces slowly. He isn’t gonna hear that it wasn’t my fault. So, for your health and mine,” Negan said, fiddling with the crowbar across his knees, “we’ve got to figure this out. So, what do I need to do? You obviously can’t go anywhere fast at the moment, which is really what we need.”

Your ground your teeth together and Negan saw the muscle in your jaw tense. “You’re going to have to find me some moss and get us some water and fuel for a fire.” Negan stared at you blankly.

“Sorry, did you say fucking moss?”

You nodded. “Yeah. A specific kind. I’m gonna tell you where it grows and what it looks like.” You pulled your pack closer and dug around inside it until you pulled out a small cloth bag and held it out to him.

“Is now the right time for a scavenger hunt?” he asked, but he got up and accepted the bag from you.

“A lot of mosses have antimicrobial properties that should fight the infection and—look, just do what I’m fucking asking, okay? Or I can go myself. Like I said, I’ve had worse,” you started getting out of the chair, pushing yourself up on the arms but the pain in your side seemed to ricochet through the rest of your abdomen and chest and you quickly froze, only partially standing.

“Whoa!” Negan grabbed your upper arm and helped you lower back down into the seat. His leg didn’t feel great, but it was definitely better than your side. “I’ll get it! Fuck, just sit the fuck down,” he shook his head at you. “I can see why you and that pain in the ass Daryl are together. Stubborn with an attitude,” he said with some amusement. “Moss. Water. Fuel. I can handle that. Just tell me what I need to know…”

You did. And Negan set out and returned a couple hours later with all of it.

Soon you had a fire going in one corner near a broken-out window, any smoke trailing up and out—though you’d made sure all the fuel was dry as a bone so it wouldn’t lead The Reapers straight to you. The water had finished boiling and was sitting to cool a bit. Negan was watching you with interest from his seat again as you cleaned as much debris out of the moss as you could.

Negan was casually peeling the bark off a stick, sitting on the stiff wooden chair and watching you work. “Are you going to tell me what the deal is with you and Daryl or what?” he asked.

Your eyes flickered up to his face for a moment and you paused, completely still. Then you went back to what you were doing. “No,” you said simply.

“Ahh, come on. What the hell else are we gonna talk about? I’m dying to know how exactly he ended up having a kid he didn’t seem to know about. Especially one that looks to be about ten years old.”

You tossed the handful of debris you’d been picking out of the moss into the fire. “I’m sure you are. But you’re the last person I’m going to discuss my personal life with, Negan.”

Negan sighed and leaned back in his chair. “Come on. It’ll pass the time!”

You fixed your gaze on him for a long moment. “I’ll give you one question,” you said, dusting off your hands.

“Hot damn!” Negan grinned. “I better make it a good one… Hmm. Let’s see…” A smirk grew on his face. “So, are you guys fucking again? I mean what’s the current status?”

“Negan!” you barked back at him angrily, color flaring in your face. He only chuckled.

“It’s just a question! Anybody can see the guy is head over heels. That was obvious by the way he looked like he was mentally dismembering me anytime I came within ten feet of you.”

You only glared at him. “Do me and yourself a favor and shut the fuck up,” you growled. You collected the moss and plunged some of it into the still warm water and let it soak for a few seconds. Then you removed it and wrung most of the water out. Negan watched with interest as you packed it over the wound in your side and secured it around your body with a long makeshift bandage you’d fashioned from a spare flannel you’d had stowed in your pack.

“That’s gonna fight off infection?” Negan asked, interested. “Seems counter-intuitive to stick some dirty shit you found outside right over a wound.”

“It’s not dirty. And yes, hopefully. Long before we had modern medicine, plants were doing what doctors and pills used to,” you said, climbing to your feet and sinking back into the armchair again with a sigh.

“How the hell did you learn this?” Negan asked, digging in his pack for his MRE and tearing off the top.

You shrugged. “Aren’t we all picking up new things all the time? One of my people, from my last community, knew a lot about medicinal and edible plants. I paid attention.”

Negan nodded, scooping another bite into his mouth. “So, we gotta just wait now?”

You nodded. “Just have to let it do its job.” You sunk back more heavily into the chair and closed your eyes, but they were only shut a moment before Negan’s voice broke the silence again.

“You’re really not going to tell me about you and Daryl?”

Your eyes opened. “No. I’m not.”

He sighed. “What if I tell you about my wife?” he said softly.

Your brow furrowed. “Which one?” you asked sharply.

“The real one.”

_ _ _ _ _ _

The next morning, you woke up gently. Negan was already awake, standing at one of the dingy windows, staring thoughtfully outside. He turned when he heard you shifting. “You’re looking better,” Negan commented.

You stood and moved without pangs of pain and sighed with relief. Unbinding your bandage and peeling the poultice from the wound, you saw that the redness was gone and it was no longer inflamed. The moss had done its job. You applied fresh, dry moss over the stitches and rebound the bandage.

Negan wandered over, watching you closely. “You good?”

You looked up and nodded. “Yeah.” You paused. “Thanks. For your help yesterday with getting all that stuff.” He nodded once. You slung your pack up onto your shoulder. “Come on. We’ve gotta get to that house. Maybe the others are waiting there.”

“You can’t be serious,” Negan said, nearly stepping in your way as you moved toward the door. “You want to keep going? We don’t even know if anyone else made it.”

You started to unbarricade the door with a grunt of effort. “They did,” you said matter-of-factly.

Negan shook his head. “You don’t know that.”

“Yes, I do!” you snapped at him, standing up straight. For the first time, Negan saw something like desperation in your eyes. “They made it,” you said firmly, but he heard the shake in your voice. “Now, help me move this…”

Negan looked at you for a long moment and then sighed and pushed the heavy oak desk out of the path of the door.

_ _ _ _ _ _

Maggie, Gabriel, and Elijah waited in silence. The air was heavy with anxiety and Maggie found herself alternately pacing the length of the room and then standing frozen at the window, peering out through the wooden slats. Through the narrow space, she saw figures moving on the street outside but it was difficult to see through the leaves of the shrubs close to the house. “I got movement comin’ up on this side.”

Elijah stood and went to another window near the front door. His knife was in his hand.

“Oh my God. Oh, thank God,” Maggie suddenly sighed. “It’s alright. It’s Negan and Y/N,” she said, happy tears in her eyes.

A moment later, Elijah pulled the door open and the two of you stepped into the dilapidated interior, Maggie rushed over and grabbed you in a hug. “Thank God you’re alright,” she said.

You tightened your free arm around her, bow in your hand at your other side. “You too. All of you,” you said, looking at Elijah and Gabriel as she broke away, but at the same moment your heart sank. “Daryl?” you asked, your brow furrowing and casting a shadow over your momentary relief at seeing the others.

Maggie shook her head. “We don’t know. We haven’t seen Daryl or Frost. Alden’s hurt bad. I left him someplace safe,” she said, her voice breaking. “Agatha. Duncan. They’re gone...”

You hung your head and closed your eyes for a long moment. “Fuck…” Your knuckles shone white as you gripped riser of your bow hard. “Goddammit… I’m so sorry.”

She nodded solemnly and then scrutinized you and Negan more closely. “How are you two?”

You moved farther into the house and stood beside the small stash of supplies. “We took a little damage but I think we’ll be fine. What’s the plan?” you asked, getting straight back to your purpose.

“We’ll wait a little longer for Daryl and Frost, in case they’re tryin’ to get here. But then we have to move. It’s not too far to Meridian from here.”

Negan let out a small scoff and paced away in a small circle, rubbing a hand over his forehead.

Maggie bristled. “Somethin’ you wanna say?”

“Maggie, look at us. We’re hurt. There are only four of us. One more encounter like the one we just had and that number is going to drop to zero.”

“People back home are dependin’ on us. Hungry kids. If we can’t make this work, Alexandria is done.”

Negan sighed and leaned back against the wall, but he stayed quiet.

“So, unless you’ve gotta somethin’ helpful to add, just keep your mouth shut for once in your life,” she snapped at him.

“Hey—” Elijah said suddenly. “Something’s up.” _ _ _ _ _ _

The heavy bootsteps overhead seemed to press on your ear drums as the Reapers moved through the house. Your heart was hammering in your throat. Then suddenly—Daryl’s voice. You clapped a hand over your mouth to stop yourself from gasping with relief. Alive. He was alive. He was okay. But then your stomach plummeted into the pit of your stomach. But why was he with them?

It didn’t take long for you to realize what was going on. A voice. A woman. “You’re either with us, or you’re not.” Leah. It had to be Leah. It was the only thing that made sense.

Your chest tightened and it was harder for you to draw in even shallow breaths. You closed your eyes, straining your hearing. Daryl again. “What do you want me to do?”

Then it was obvious; Daryl was dropping as much info as he could to you hiding below. 20 people. Weapons. Supplies. Walls. And then he was picking a fight on purpose with this “Carver” asshole.

“Shaw. Wake. Up. Everything is a test now,” Carver spat. “If you think this guy is ever going to give a shit about any of us, you’re gonna fail.”

“He’s right,” Daryl said quickly. “I don’t give a shit about any of you. Except you.” You felt a sharp pain between your lungs. “I’m here for you. It’s no secret I made mistakes. But I’m here right now.”

You were trying to suppress a rising wave of nausea. You could feel Maggie and Negan looking your way and you ducked your eyes, kept them down-turned to the cement of the cellar floor. A second later, Maggie touched you on the sleeve and tilted her head toward the cellar door. With Daryl distracting Leah and Carver, you snuck away, but the painful bubble in the middle of your chest stayed with you.

When you were finally safely away from the town the Reapers had been combing, Maggie stopped all of you. “We can stop for a minute,” she said, out of breath just like the rest of you from rushing through the woods. “We’re getting’ close. About three miles out.”

Negan let out a disbelieving laugh again, but you silenced him with a look. Maggie turned to you and touched you on the arm and spoke to you in a soft undertone. “You know Daryl was only sayin’ those things to—”

“I know,” you interrupted her, nodding, but your face was downturned. It still felt like a knife was lodged upward between your lungs. Listening in on that, Daryl saying those things to another woman, to her, had been excruciating. You hadn’t even realized how much so until you were out of the immediate danger. They seemed to ring in your head. “I’m here for you.” “I made mistakes.”

Maggie frowned softly. “Y/N, you and DJ are his whole life. I was there. I saw it. I saw how he was after. We almost lost him when he lost you. And then he never gave up on you. He never stopped searchin’. Whoever she is, she’s nothin’ to him compared to you. Believe that. Trust it.”

You gulped and nodded again and managed to give her a forced smile, though the worry line stayed between your brows. “What’s the plan for taking care of these assholes?”

You all turned as sticks cracked nearby. Walkers were wandering in. Everyone fingered their weapon but Maggie stopped you. “Wait,” she said, looking at more following behind out of the trees. She glanced back at the group of you. “Think we can find more?”

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