#I would dump the fictional men that I like | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

isoldmysoulforcheese · 1 year

Note

I really love your writing and I was just wondering if you could write something that doesn’t include smut where the reader moves into the trailer park where Daryl and Merle are staying at a friends, Daryl and the reader get close, the reader waits for Daryl but he never makes anything more of their relationship, so the two grow apart, until the reader gets a bf and finally Daryl confesses his feelings

Angels

Paring: Daryl Dixon x female reader

Era: Pre-apocalypse

Summary: You move into the trailer park where Daryl is staying.

Warnings: Fluff, swearing, mentions of violence, creepy men, and kissing.

Word count: 21,136

Daryl could vividly remember the day he first laid his eyes upon you; the male had been momentarily crashing at an acquaintance's place with Merle, spending his days in a worn trailer, a tiny home placed within a village of copy and paste houses. A trailer park. He had been floating around with his older brother, roaming aimlessly from place to place, couch surfing, before he ended up in the destination he was currently: A paint chipped trailer with holes placed within various walls, ratty furniture retrieved from the depths of a dump inhabiting the home, and old clothes, food, and other objects considered garbage, were littered throughout the domicile. He had lost track of how long he had been staying within the confines of the rotten community, and there was no foreseeable end to his visit. Or at least, not one anytime soon.

He often spent his days drinking alongside Merle's friends, taking part in fist fights within the front lawn, and nosely observing as other residents did the same. He would waste his days away by rotting in the summer sun, maybe speaking a sentence a day before falling asleep somewhere within the dingy home. The male wasn't too happy with his current situation, he often kept to himself, remaining quiet as he let his mind wander, practically trapped in the fictional world he had created within his own head.

It was on a day just like any other, he was placed upon the front steps of the small home, legs outstretched as he let a cigarette hang from between his lips, smog surrounding his head as he smoked like a chimney. The hot, summer sun was currently beating down upon his skin, the multiple layers he was supporting proved to add to the sweltering heat as he sat upon the ground, surrounded by his brother and his pals. The group was conversing about some subject that Daryl was unaware of, their voices becoming muffled as he often used their talking as some sort of background noise.

His vision was pulled from a small bird bathing within the murky water of a puddle placed within a neighbors yard, observing as the tiny critter laced itself in perspiration before the rumble of an oncoming vehicle echoed throughout the small town. The male’s head slowly turned towards the direction the noise had erupted from, eyes scanning over two of Merle’s friends beginning to shove one another angrily before his eyes landed upon the road placed to his right.

There was an unfamiliar truck approaching, dirt and dust flying up from the poorly paved concrete, the light brown cloud caged itself around the vehicle as it slowly made its way down the pavement. Daryl had no recollection of the truck, it was one he had never spotted within the vicinity before, but he wasn't quick to make assumptions about the cars backstory, as an array of vehicles often entered the community before seemingly vanishing the following day, never to be seen again. His eyes watched as the vehicle passed in front of him, heading towards a vacant trailer placed about two or three houses down the street.

As the car parked within the small driveway carved in front of the home, the male rolled his eyes, uninterested in another pesky civilian who would wake him up within the night with their self indulgent yelling or another community member who would soon rob him of the few belongings he still contained. He observed for a moment longer, about to yank his vision away from the rusting pick up as its engine shut off, the previous rumbling, that had been plaguing the vicinity, dyed away before the driver's side door popped open.

His breath caught within the depths of his throat as his eyes landed upon you: Your legs slipped from the vehicle, feet dangling from the side of the truck momentarily as your fingers curled around the doorframe. Your thighs were glazed in a layer of sweat as the male watched your nails grip at the metal before you eventually pushed your figure from the chambers of the vehicle, finally revealing yourself to the males awaiting eyes.

Your feet landed upon the concrete with a slight thud as the souls of your shoes thrashed against the ground, legs vibrating for a few seconds, threatening to give out before you turned, placing your back towards the biker as you reached for the door. You were supporting a pair of shorts, skin laced in perspiration as the sun rays being cast down upon you were unfaltering, the liquid glued to your flesh caused your skin to glow underneath the burning star placed within the cloudless sky. As you placed your palms upon the door, pushing it shut with force, a loud bang erupting from the truck as you did so, Daryl observed the way your hair hung upon your shoulders, cascading down your neck in thick clumps. Your locks were slightly fluttering as a reaction to your sudden movements, your hair flowed behind your head like a river as you spun around once more, a direct depiction of the waves that would crash down upon the ocean shore.

The bikers eyes stayed magnetized to your hands as you brought your palm up to your forehead, dragging it across your skin as you rid your flesh of the beading sweat rolling down your face before your fingers trailed down the side of your head, digits swiftly tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear before you waltzed towards the side of your pick up. Once you arrived beside the bed of your truck, you lifted yourself onto the toes of your sneakers, leaning upon the side of your vehicle as you dropped your arms into the trunk, reaching for something just out of Daryl’s sight. The male picked up upon the small smile etched upon your lips as you retrieved a box placed within the truck, surprise washing over the biker as he contemplated how you could possibly feel any form of happiness while you unloaded your belongings into the diminishing trailer. Had you not seen the condition of both the homes and the people currently placed all around you?

As Daryl watched you disappear within the depths of your house, observing you like you were a heavenly spirit, as if you were a ghost grazing the Earth right in front of him, he wondered how an angel such as yourself could possibly end up in such a dump. Sure, the trailer park was littered with other females, trashy women who would often beat their kids and cheat on their husbands, but there had never even been a trace of a girl like you in this area. You were practically angelic as you bound from the steps of your tiny home, hair flowing around you as you emerged from within your trailer once more, a wide grin inching across your mouth as you returned to your truck. You appeared fragile, delicate as you fluttered towards your vehicle to retrieve yet another package of your belongings. It was almost as if you were out of place, like a rose amidst a bush full of thorns as you walked, moving swiftly, like a dancer, as you grasped another box.

“Daryl! Lil brother!” Were the words that finally drew the male from the seemingly hypnotic trance you had placed him within.

The redneck reluctantly yanked his eyes from your figure, pupils yearning to view you once more as Merle’s voice echoed through his ears. It was as if heaven and hell had collided as he turned his head, vision landing upon his brother who was now placed within the middle of a fight that had erupted about five feet beside him. Daryl wondered how you could even possibly exist within his vicinity, pondering upon how truly ironic that moment was: One second, he was observing a Goddess as she graced the Earth, but in a matter of seconds, he was rising to his feet as he let out a disheartened huff, tossing himself into yet another aimless fight, just to save his brother’s ass. It was like he was suddenly comparing an angel to the devil.

Over the next couple of days, you proved to be well adjusted to the robust behavior of the males that populated the trailer park, often paying the men no mind as they catcalled you, shamelessly flirting as you walked past. When Merle and his friends did their best to charm you, bestowing pet names upon you or applying their best pick up lines, you often replied to their foul behavior in a teasing manner, responding with a light chuckle before saying something along the lines of “in your dreams” or “you're gonna have to try harder than that.” You even surprised Daryl one afternoon when he observed you throw a pretty good punch at a guy who had attempted to grope you after you had returned in a bathing suit, previously paying a visit to the small river placed behind the civilization. You appeared much more composed compared to the other women who inhabited the trailer park, the females who would aimlessly yell and scream at the unpleasant men, although they often had the right to do so.

The biker adored your competent behavior, proud of your ability to take care of yourself, secretly smirking at the way you effortlessly rebuked the nasty men; the calm and collected manner you displayed while you reciprocated the men’s vile words with a variety of your own always seemed to infuriate the subordinate men, as any sign of yelling and anger is what they had desired. They yearned to antagonize others, and by not giving them what they wished for, you became superior to the inferior men.

And Daryl had never witnessed anything like it.

The brunette’s behavior had not gone unrecognized by your own, observant eyes; sense you had transferred to your new home, you quickly noticed the way Daryl had never treated you like an object, he never jeered at you or attempted to make a sly pass at you, he had not once allowed his hands to find their way upon your figure in any sort of manner, and he had yet to disrupt your peaceful moments of sleep with loud hollers or yells, unlike the other men within the trailer park. Instead, you picked up upon the fact that he always treated you with the utmost respect: He remained quiet while his acquaintances howled at you, he often simply addressed you with a silent nod of his head or shared a small, polite wave with you. And, although those actions don't seem like much, to you, they meant the world.

You had grown up around men like Merle, males who had been heckling you since you were old enough to understand the seriousness of the situation. You had grown used to the snide remarks and the stares received from inappropriate eyes, you had become accustomed to the flirtatious vocalizations and the creepy advances, so, overtime, you learned how to respond to these actions. You figured out how to handle yourself around trailer park trash without getting your teeth knocked out.

About a week and a half into your residency within the community, against your better judgment, you advanced upon the rowdy group Daryl had been accompanying one morning; you were experiencing struggles with your shower, questioning if the drain had possibly become clogged as water often pooled within the bottom of your tub after every shower, stubbornly resisting the urge to plunge into the depths of your drain.

You were aware of how capable you were of providing for yourself, not often requesting others' assistance as you had grown strong enough to adjust furniture on your own, you had acquired enough knowledge, when it came to appliances, to restore small problems, and you were obviously tough enough to stand up for yourself. And, you had also grown a strong distaste for many of the men found within the confines of trailer parks such as your own, so you always did your best to stray away from them.

But, this was an inconvenience you couldn't quite solve on your own, one you knew too little about to fix without assistance.

So, at around eleven one morning, after your drain had failed to engulf the water elicited from the pipes of your shower, you collected as much courage as you possibly could before exiting your house. With your hair still sopping wet and your feet bare, you stepped out upon your porch, the unfaltering blaze of the sun above you immediately began pounding against your moist skin, an effect that suddenly made you deeply desire the comforts of your cold shower once more. The air was filled with the sound of chatter amongst the loud civilians: People laughing, talking, and the muffled noise of far away yelling. The warm breeze currently burrowing through your clothes ejected the smell of cigarettes mixed with motor oil into your nostrils as your outfit rippled against the wind, the bright sunlight blinding you as thin stands of your hair began to blow into your vision.

As you brought your fingers up to your eyes, removing your locks from your irises, you quickly spotted Daryl placed among a group of bikers; the male was leaning against his motorcycle, back to you as he fiddled with the pads of his fingers, the other men around him bellowed loudly, cackling like they were the only people in a ten mile radius. The male’s brown hair was fluttering within the wind, short strands fighting against the lukewarm breeze as it crashed against his figure. The nape of his neck was dripping with sweat, skin turning a slight pink as the sun beat down upon him, the bike placed beneath him glimmering underneath the rays of light.

The male supported his typical leather vest, your eyes skimming across the tattered, black material before your vision landed upon the wings engraved within the article of clothing. You observed the aging wings, turning a light brown overtime, loose strings dangling within the wind as the cloth bent and contorted under the control of his shoulder blades. You smiled to yourself, unsure of the symbol's true meaning, but you could concur that the wings fit him quite well, he appeared as an enthralling angel within in the sweltering sun, surrounded by a crowd of demons as he perched himself against his bike.

He was truly angelic, from the way his blue eyes always seemed to glimmer in the sun, matching the rhythmic waves of the ocean or the vast blue of the skyline placed above you, to the way his light locks framed his face when the wind blew through him, thin strands of hair flowing around him like a soft current. He was large and muscular, upper body wide and stocky, but something about him seemed so delicate. Maybe it was the way he walked, carrying himself with ease as the people surrounding him bounded or shuffled, or perhaps it was the way he was always observing his surroundings, watching the trees or wildlife in such a curious and interested manner. He was alluring, enthralling and mysterious, everything about the male made you wonder about him.

You traipsed towards the cluster of men, feet kicking up the gravel placed beneath your toes, hair beginning to dry underneath the warming sun as the furthest male spotted you, a venomous smirk inching across his lips as he watched you approach. He suddenly nodded his head in your direction, signaling to the other bikers that someone was nearing, an action that caused you to fight back the overpowering urge to roll your eyes out of annoyance. You watched as the group glanced towards you in unison, heads looking lazily over their shoulders in a synchronized manner as they followed the first male’s gaze. Eventually, their vision landed in your vicinity, eyes circling your silhouette as if you were some sort of delicious feast and they hadn't eaten in years: Some licked their lips, others grinned at you, but all of them displayed their very nasty intentions, like they were the predators and you were the prey.

All of them except Daryl; the solemn male was staring down towards his bike, exhibiting none of the same etiquette or manners as the disturbing men surrounding him. The only thing he did that was similar to the others was the fact that he had turned his head as they had. He was shyly gazing upon the gleaming metal of his motorcycle, hair dangling within his face as he continued to dwindle his thumbs. The material upon the bike was casting an array of light upon his features, characteristics that exhibited his feelings of deep embarrassment, eyes frantically darting around and the obvious fact that he was chewing upon the inside of his cheek, ashamed of the actions that were obviously about to unfold.

You planted your feet upon the warm pavement, finally stopping in front of the pack as you stared at them, eyes scanning each and everyone of the men as you waited for them to unleash their gruesome attack of flirtatious remarks. Your vision skimmed across the various men: Some had long, overgrown hair, while others were balding. A few were supporting leather jackets and other biker equipment, while most were wearing ratty clothing, some still left within their work attire. Some were short while some were tall, and some had sharp features while others had rounder characteristics, but all of them were somehow the same, mushing together into one, giant, intimidating being as they sized you up.

Finally, some unknown man with a receding hairline, a male you had never laid your eyes upon until that moment, began to speak:

“Hey, I think I recognize ya.” He stated in a matter of fact type manner.

As his slurred words entered the chambers of your ears, your lips curled up into a slight smile while you crossed your arms upon your chest, an attempt to shield your cleavage from their desperation filled gazes. And you hated to admit it but, you were kind of excited to receive the disturbing words he was about to place in front of you.

“Mhmm?” You murmured in response, inviting him to continue.

“Yer tha girl of my dreams.” He replied.

His words caused the group to chuckle around him, laughter erupting all around you as many of the men stared down upon your frame, thrilled expressions etched upon their faces, like they perceived you as some sort of helpless, little creature. The men of the trailer park enjoyed antagonizing you, creating some sort of deranged image within their heads that you were more than happy and very willing to be with them, to love them as though they deserved your affection. A thought that couldn't be farther from the truth, from your snide remarks to physical retaliations you had laid upon them, but you weren't exactly surprised by the fact that they had yet to give up, or even consider the fact that you were uninterested, as it had never once crossed their minds that they were epiphany of what most women despised.

But, your eyes never forgot Daryl, noticing the way he kept his head down in shame, eyes peeking up at you from time to time, watching you through the curtain of hair he had created for himself, as though it was some sort of barrier. He remained motionless, feelings of remorse washing over him as he observed the situation unfold around him.

You allowed the laughter to die down, their chuckles and giggles eventually dissipating before you spoke once more.

“That's kinda funny cause I think you're the guy of my nightmares.” You retorted, giggling at the words that had just tumbled from your lips.

Your sentence caused an uproar of laughter among the men, the idiots just ate your vocalization up, cackling as though it was the funniest thing you had ever said as their friend grew deeply humiliated. The guy, who seriously needed to invest in a toupee, grew embarrassed, face turning a flustered pink as his acquaintances made fun of him, cussing you out from beneath his breath as he practically shrunk underneath your scrutinizing gaze, cowering away into the crowd behind him. You could hear the balding male swearing at you as he disappeared into the group of men, exclaiming something about you being a whore, or something along those lines.

Your eyes momentarily placed themselves upon Daryl, catching a glimpse of a smile tug at the corners of his mouth, lips twitching into a smirk as he remained quiet. You watched as his head slightly rose as he suddenly grew interested in the current conversation when he realized you were more than capable of handling yourself, although his eyes remained hidden behind the wall of brown locks.

Your fierce actions caused Merle to suddenly step forward, the dominating male began to loom over you as he challenged your previous actions. It was becoming increasingly obvious that he thought of himself as a worthy opponent, a contender who would be able to make you cower beneath him, that he would be the male to conquer you. As Daryl’s older brother hovered in front of you, he released a horse laugh, a cackle exiting his lungs while he conceived you as some sort of game, like the prior conversation had just been some kind of show you enjoyed putting on, flaunting yourself in front of the men.

“Hey, come on now, lay off Wade,” he said, words that caused you to come to the conclusion that Wade must have been the male you had just spoken with, the man who was now practically hiding behind Merle, eyes filled to the brim with an embarrassed anger as he glared at you “what's a nice girl like ya doin over here anyways?”

“I was just gonna ask you the same thing.” You spoke with a smile, another statement that caused his pals from behind him to begin to laugh.

As the sound of more obnoxious and vile chuckles entered your ears, you noticed how your comment appeared to just roll right off Merle’s shoulders while he chuckled form above you, seeming much more laid back compared to your previous opponent, Wade. The graying male smiled down upon you, a hint of pride flashing through his eyes, licking his lips as if he was finding joy in your satirizing antics.

Eventually, your irises finally fell upon Daryl once more, only to have a wave of surprise wash upon you when your vision met his own, his eyes already glued upon you. His blue irises were shimmering, sparkles appearing within his inky, blue eyes, an exact portrayal of the night sky, a dark landscape filled with gleaming stars. The biker bit his lip, entrapping the pink skin between his teeth as he attempted to hold back both a small smile and a light chuckle as he received the words you had just directed towards his older brother. At some point, he had lifted his head, hair pushed from his vision, revealing his entertained features and shy characteristics as he grew much more comfortable within the current situation.

“Anyway,” you spoke, feeling no need to wait for the laughter to diminish before finally drawing the attention back to yourself “Daryl, I was just wondering if you could help me with my shower? I think something is wrong with it.”

The other trailer park residents began to cackle once more upon hearing your words, and other than drink and smoke, it appeared to be the only thing they ever took part in. You mentally slapped yourself due to the way you had phrased your previous sentence as even you could understand that the way you had expressed your problems had been a bit deceiving. But, you were smart enough to understand why the men had begun laughing: They weren't chuckling due to your vague request, they were giggling at the idea that you even thought of soliciting Daryl’s assistance, as if he was unable to execute any of your needs or repair any of your troubles. In their eyes, it was as if the brunette was less of a male due to the fact that he wasn't loud and obnoxious, or the fact that he never attempted to make any vile moves on you, or any other women for that matter.

Daryl obviously thought the same of himself, he perceived himself as an inferior being, he thought of himself as some worthless human who didn't deserve the attention you were currently giving him. The fact that you were even interacting with him, speaking to him, and saying his name, asking for his help, not Merle’s, not Wade’s, not any of the other men, you were requesting for his aid, appeared to surprise him: His eyebrows began to raise slightly, lip escaping from the previous death grip he had bestowed upon it, and his prior fidgeting suddenly came to an end.

“Ya want my baby brother’s help? I could solve any of yer shower problems way better than he could, darlin. Hell, even Wade could.” Merle exclaimed, exhaling a short laugh.

Even after the older male’s statement, your eyes remained glued upon his younger brother, as though he was the only person in the world at that moment, like the balding man's words hadn't even entered the chambers of your ears. Like Merle, and all the obnoxious men, didn't even exist. You respected the quiet biker too much to even gratify his brother's words with your own, you couldn't even fathom the possibility of perhaps embarrassing the brunette or making him even slightly uncomfortable. But, you strongly believed that the angle of a male was much more of a man then any of the others would even amount to be.

Daryl watched as you smiled at him, a sweet and innocent grin as you nodded your head towards your home placed a few yards behind you, as if you hadn't even heard Merle's word or any of the other men chuckling from behind him. You were displaying a small, polite smile, your lips pulled taunt as your teeth threatened to reveal themselves while you waited patiently upon him to join you. And that was the first moment Daryl learned he would never be able to say no to you.

Eventually, the biker began wiping his palms upon his upper thighs, ridding his hands of the layer of dust they had accumulated before he sheepishly rose from his position upon the bike, standing to his feet before he began to saunter towards you. His actions caused an uproar of hollers and mocking jokes to start erupting from the mouths of the pigs placed behind him, many of the males whooping as the others whistled, their antagonizing behaviors causing Daryl’s cheeks to grow a light pink hue, one that was just barely noticeable to your observant eyes as the two of you began towards your house, continuing to pay no mind to the men left behind you.

“Sorry bout them.” The male stated simply, his Southern drawl extremely evident as the two of you stepped across the concrete, the heat emitting from the road quickly beginning to warm your feet.

Daryl’s voice was quiet, barely audible over the environment surrounding the two of you, speaking just loud enough for your ears to receive. His tone was raspy, voice gravely as his redneck accent shown through his words, his kind sentences causing your smile to grow a bit wider, your teeth quick to reveal themselves. The exposure of your mouth caused you to look towards the ground, growing a bit flustered as you stared upon the floor, watching as the biker’s shoes stomped across the street. That had been the first nice thing someone had said to you in a long while, you were also pretty sure that was the first time you had ever really heard the male speak: His delicate, yet thick, voice shocked you as you arrived upon your dirt laced driveway, not really expecting his voice to be as soothing as it seemed to be.

The aroma currently being emitted from upon his body suddenly hit you like a ton of bricks, the smell of pine mixed with a hint of motor oil fogged your brain. His fragrance was almost intoxicating, your mind momentarily short circuiting as the two of you waltzed underneath the large shadow being casted upon the ground by your home, the sun beating down onto the trailer, an action that caused a dark figure to appear upon your lawn. Your legs suddenly threatened to give out from beneath you while you fought back your giddy smile, occurrences that caused you to wonder upon why you had randomly grown nervous within the presence of the silent male. Maybe it was his striking looks, or possibly his gruff tone, a raspy voice that had just blessed your ears for the first time. But, you just chalked it up to being within the same vicinity as an actually decent man for the first time in a long while.

“Pshh, it's nothing. Don't worry about it.” You responded as the two of you began to climb the front steps.

Daryl decided against explaining how no, what had happened wasn’t okay, and the fact that everything you had to grit your teeth and struggle through, almost daily, wasn't alright either, he came to the conclusion that it would be out of line to push the topic further. Although he really desired to; he often wondered how you always appeared to be so okay with the way the other park residents seemed to treat you, pondering upon how someone like you could even be in a place like this while simultaneously tolerating the nasty civilians. But he inevitably decided not to pry or even ask about the situation, as the two of you were practically strangers.

“Don't mind the mess, my maids on vacation.” You teased, drawing the quiet biker from his thoughts as you grasped the door handle, turning it until it grinded open.

As you walked through the front door, the brunette followed close behind you, your words causing his eyes to inevitably scan his surroundings when the two of you finally entered the living room: You owned seemingly spotless furniture, your couch didn't appear to be supporting any cigarette burns, your coffee table was stain free, and you possessed a fully functional recliner. Your furniture appeared to be retrieved from places other than the dump or taken off someone's front lawn. You had managed to patch a lot of the holes that remained upon the walls of the trailer, left by the previous owners, the rug placed below the bikers boots had obviously been cleaned as of recently, vacuum lines still visible upon the mat, and the walls were even decorated. Other than a few half filled, or completely empty, moving boxes and some dirty dishes scattered around your home, your domicile was practically sparkling.

The male felt as if he had just wandered into some foreign land, as your home appeared to be an actual, livable environment compared to the rest of the trashed trailers placed within the area: Cluttered homes filled with garbage or screaming family members, while your home was extremely clean and it remained completely silent, so quiet to the point that Daryl was sure he could hear each blink of his eyelids or the sound of his blood currently pumping beneath his skin. Your house was possibly the nicest home he had ever been invited into, a fact that caused him to wonder how your trailer had not been broken into just yet.

Daryl carefully shut the door behind him, waiting for his ears to receive a slight click noise before he followed you through your home; he was in complete and utter amazement as the two of you ventured through the den, eyes scanning his surroundings as he lumbered behind you, vision skimming across picture frames and small, decorative items until the two of you reached a minuscule hall that branched off from upon the living room. As you both entered the corridor, the smell of lavender cleaning supplies and the summer season wafted into his nose while the sound of the rug crunching beneath his shoes echoed throughout the passageway.

You inevitably lead him into your bathroom, making your way through the open door before the two of you finally stopped in front of the shower. The biker continued to scrutinize his surroundings, noticing the spotless mirror, the mopped floor, and the fact that the trash can wasn't currently overflowing before pooling out onto the ground. Eventually, the brunette allowed his eyes to land upon the bathtub, noticing the puddle of still water that had collected within the bottom of your shower.

“See,” you lightly gestured towards the appliance “it wont go down.”

The biker stood silently for a moment as he observed the situation, watching as the liquid remained completely motionless, basically refusing to venture down into the maze of pipes. Daryl could feel your vision upon him, eyes burning holes into the side of his head as you patiently observed him, your actions causing him to grow increasingly nervous under pressure. Eventually, the male ended up coming to the conclusion that it was most likely clogged, maybe some sort of small, dead rodent had gotten lodged within the pipes or possibly a snake, but it was probably just a large ball of hair that had accumulated beneath the home.

“It's probably clogged, do ya have uh plumber’s snake or somethin?” He asked while turning to face you.

In all honesty, you had no idea what he was currently referencing to, your mind immediately resorting to the thought of the thin, reptilian animal, due to the fact that anything to do with plumbing wasn't exactly one of your strong suits. You suddenly spun on your heels, facing the skin behind you before bending down, your random movements causing a light gust of wind to brush against Daryl’s figure. Once you landed upon the floor, you outstretched your hand, fingers grasping at the cabinet placed in front of you before you wrapped your palm around the small, plastic handle. You finally yanked the tiny door open, revealing an array of cleaning supplies and other washroom products.

“Whatever I have is in there.” You responded, rising to an upright position once more.

Once you had finally given him directions, the biker stepped forward, slowly dropping down into a kneeling position in front of the cabinet, placing one knee upon the cool tile floor while he rested his forearm upon the other, beginning to rummage through the belongings placed within the cupboard; he was starting to lose hope as his fingers brushed passed many cleaning supplies, hands grasping sponges, digits pushing window cleaner to the side, and palms even moving some toilet paper as he braced himself to return empty handed. Until his eyes landed upon a long, white, plastic rod: A plumber’s snake. He quickly retrieved the thin object before standing, grasping the utility within his palm as he rose to his usual height.

Your eyes followed the male as he traipsed towards the shower, pushing the cabinet door closed with the heel of his foot before he made his way across the shower mat until he arrived in front of the bathtub. He lowered himself once more, this time positioning his body upon both calves, knees pressing against the porcelain tub as he leaned over the acrylic appliance.

You scanned his figure as he did so, unable to pull your vision away from the sight of his muscles tensing as he pushed himself forward, exposed biceps bulging while he placed one hand upon the edge of the shower for support, his shoulder blades grinding together from underneath his leather vest. You grew speechless as you admired his large upper body, his wide build causing you to pull your lips into a thin line while you observed him; he appeared to be so strong, so manly, and the way his sweat laced muscles strained under the pressure he applied to them mixed with the image of his fingers splayed out and gripping the rim of the shower, made you grow ashamed: He had been nothing but nice and respectful to you and here you were, watching him like all the other males of the park often observed you, like he was some sort of animal at the zoo.

Daryl was quite aware of your wandering eyes, due to the fact that the hairs scattered upon his nape began to rise as you assessed him. Although the male couldn't lie, he was kind of enjoying the attention, loving the feeling of your eyes adoring him, vision circling his toned upper arms as the sound of your soft voice entered his ear canals. The biker was almost 100% sure this was the most he had spoken with another human being in a long while, even if all he had said was about two sentences, and he was currently relishing in the fact that it was you he was speaking with, the angle he had been smittenly observing for about a week at that point.

“Can I get you like, a beer or something?” You offered as the previous realization dawned upon you, face turning a light shade of red as you forced your pupils away from the recent discovery that was his toned upper body.

You distracted yourself with the view of the washer and dryer placed to your left, noticing the large stack of unfolded clothing you had placed lazily upon the appliances, a reminder of the future chores you had in store for you once the biker had successfully finished.

“Ya don't gotta.” He responded, voice low, almost inaudible from where you stood.

You listened to his words reverberate from within the bowl of the ceramic shower, sentence sounding almost programmed as a wave of deep focus and attention washed over him, doing his best to fix the problem you were experiencing within your drain. Your eyes slowly drifted back to the male as you began to engage in conversation, although you were no longer observing him but instead watching as he inserted the plastic rod into the depths of the clear water. Your eyes followed the white stick as it disappeared into the void of the drain, plumbers snake vanishing from your sight as the biker politely declined your offer.

“It's the least I could do. And besides, I was thinking of having one myself.” You admitted.

Upon receiving the sound of your confession, admitting that you were pondering upon the idea of having your own drink, the male caved; in all honesty, he wasn't a big fan of drinking on his own, not exactly fond of the idea due to the fact that it usually put him directly into a shitty mood, making him angry, irritable, and oftentimes: Upset. But, he had a feeling that with you to accompany him, perhaps it wouldn't be so bad. And besides, it was only one drink.

“Alrigh then.” He said once he had finished the mental war he had been participating in within the confines of his own mind.

As he heard you exit the room, feet padding against the cold, tile floor while you wandered behind him, he fought the almost overpowering urge to glance over his shoulder ever so slightly as you left the vicinity, to allow his eyes to trace over your silhouette as you walked through the doorway.

While you treaded down the hall, you exhaled a large breath that you were unaware you had even been holding as you momentarily passed through the living room. You felt the fabric of the rug placed beneath you card between your toes, the scent of Daryl now permeating your household, glazing itself upon the walls, furniture, and even the floor before entering your nose. You needed to escape the tension filled room, to give yourself a moment to relieve some stress and somehow rid your mind of such impure thoughts before collecting both yourself and the most courage you possibly could before returning to the male.

Images of his perspiration laced hair and skillful fingers flashed through your head as you entered the kitchen, thoughts that caused you to squeeze your eyes closed as you made your way towards the fridge, doing your best to clear your mind. Once you reached the refrigerator, you wrapped your fingers around the handle, as you had previously done with the cabinet, before practically throwing the door open; your eyes scanned its possessions, in search of some sort of alcohol, vision dancing across a variety of vegetables, disregarding a jug of milk, and ignoring a small container of butter before inevitably landing upon a collection of beers, a discovery that caused you to lean forward, retrieving two of the bottles before removing their caps. You pushed the door closed once more, a slight breeze being ejected from within the confines of the fridge as you leaned against one of the various counters placed around the room.

As your back settled upon the wooden surface, your head immediately began to wander, absentmindedly returning to the male, allowing yourself to reminisce upon the biker. He appeared to be so hard working and obviously good with his hands as he bent over your tub, repairing the appliance. He obviously took part in a lot of manual labor as his muscles were extremely evident, a visual that would most likely cause a problem between him and your undisciplined eyes. You had never once desired to have a man around to take care of your problems before then, you had grown stubborn as you often insisted upon fixing your own belongings and tending to your own manual labor chores, but God, did he look good while doing work around your own home. Once more, your brain promptly remembered the way he had placed a large palm upon the porcelain wall, steadying himself as his hair fell within his vision, thin locks fluttering with each movement as his large upper body muscles flexed and pulsated while he leaned forward, biceps bulging from underneath his tan skin.

As you placed a cool, glass rim upon your mouth, lips wrapping lightly around the bottle, you shook yourself from your trance, quickly realizing the inappropriate zoning out session you had just taken part in, one you were swift to erased by titling the container back, allowing the metallic liquid to splash into the chamber of your mouth. You felt the liquor lace your tongue, the bitter taste coating your cheeks as you pushed yourself from your spot upon the counter, swallowing momentarily before heading back towards the bathroom.

“So,” you spoke as you entered the washroom once more, allowing yourself to receive yet another gulp of your drink “what is there to do around here?”

Your eyes landed upon the male, frame still placed beside the tub as you walked into the room. When you passed by Daryl, you slightly leaned forward, handing him his beer, an action that caused the perspiration laced bottle to momentarily slip within his outstretched palm before you observed him take a swig. The biker placed the glass within his own mouth, dipping his head backwards a bit, letting his hair brush against his shoulders as he too allowed the liquid to enter his mouth. You watched as he took a few gulps, waiting patiently to receive his response while he placed the glass upon the stone floor beside him.

For once, since you appeared within the trailer park, the brunette grew thankful due to the fact that he was back to you, using this as an opportunity to hide the stern look currently etching itself upon his face, a slight frown to match his grim expression that he was now shielding from your awaiting vision. As he wiggled the snake further into the drenched pipes, it instantaneously dawned upon him that he didn't really do anything; about all the biker ever seemed to do was hang out with his older brother and his rowdy companions while they all drank, smoked, and visited the many bars they often inhabited, basically just reeking havoc around town upon their motorcycles. The question caused the male to be overcome by his many insecurities, the fact that he didn't really amount to much causing him to grow slightly embarrassed, ashamed that he just kinda allowed himself to rot away upon some strangers' front lawn with every day that seemed to pass by. His small amount of self esteem suddenly began to plummet as he did his best to quickly come up with an acceptable answer to your inquiry.

“There's a few bars, some diners, and uhm…” he paused momentarily, attempting to conjure up another example that seemingly didn't exist “the river.”

You frowned slightly at the biker's statement, taking another drink of your beer as you received Daryl’s words, suddenly realizing that the loneliness you had been experiencing for about the last week or so wouldn't slowly dissipate overtime, it was most likely something that was sure to carry on for a long while. You appeared to have no interest in the idea of mingling with or befriending many of the other communities residents, not concerned with becoming closer pals with any of the drunken men or the rude women, and there didn't seem to be many other activities for you to take part in. There were only so many days you could spend at a bar without beginning to morph into another example of common trailer park trash, and you weren't extremely fond of the idea of getting harassed everyday while attempting to take a relaxing swim within the stream.

“Well, where do you go on that motorcycle of yours?’ You asked.

“I dun know, just kinda… Ride round.” He responded, a slight halt appearing within his sentence as he momentarily paused while applying more of his attention upon the drain.

You smiled to yourself, adoring the concentration he was presenting to the task at hand, a small grunt escaping his lips as he forced his fist towards the drain, pushing the flimsy rod further down the pipes. It was as if he was genuinely attempting to help you while simultaneously doing his best to relieve you of your problems, not just aiming towards obliterating another task upon his agenda, not just lazily accomplishing your request by doing a horrible job. He was actually trying his best to help you, and that thought made your heart start to warm.

“I've never ridden on a motorcycle before,” you admitted “you'll have to take me sometime.”

The gesture was innocent, or at least, that's how it was originally intended; you hadn't really applied much thought towards your words before they inevitably began to tumble from your mouth, not exactly picking up upon the suggestive undertones of your sentence as you spoke, due to the fact that it was nothing you had went over within the confines of your head before you began to utter the words. Your statement was just made as an attempt to carry the conversation forward, a simple suggestion as you had also desired to receive the experience of your first motorcycle ride.

But that's not how Daryl comprehended your words.

To the male, your words were taken like a proposition, an offer for your arms to be wrapped tightly around his waist while you placed your head upon his back, transmitting your heat upon his own body as he escorted you from destination to destination. He understood your words as if they were presented like some sort of date. Your sentence was received as sweet, kind, even somewhat flirtatious, words he would later convince himself that you only ejected out of complete pity upon the brunette. And, although your words had been spoken in solely a friendly manner, Daryl would later twist and contort your sentence into a statement only made out of sympathy and compassion for his numerous insecurities, which had not been your original intent.

Your tone caused the biker to lean over, retrieving his liquor before taking another drink.

“Mhm.” He muttered, too flustered to speak as he mumbled, dropping his glass within its previous placement before continuing the task at hand.

The two of you chatted for a while longer as Daryl pursued his focus upon the pipes, talking about your shared complaints revolving around your neighborhood, specifically relating to the loud and annoying civilians, the way they hollered all throughout the night while trashing the streets. You also conversed about things you had experienced during both of your separate days, Daryl recalling a story about watching a five person fight over a single blunt and you exclaimed the strange phenomenon of finding a loose twenty just laying upon the street, something you perceived as some sort of trap before inevitably swiping the free money you had spotted within the wild. You even asked a few, small questions about Merle, seemingly quizzing the male with simple, basic inquiries, ones the biker responded to with short, blunt replies, causing you to receive the hint about his uninterested in the topic, a discovery that caused you to quickly change the subject.

You were generally enjoying his company, often catching yourself blabbering and rambling while the brunette silently listened, you were practically jumping upon the opportunity to actually converse with someone other than a few words a day to random strangers. Let alone someone who was actually a decent being. You had been growing bored around your solemn home, due to the fact that there was only so much television you could watch, there was only a certain amount of songs you could replay over and over and over again, and there was only a select quantity of chores you could tend to in a single day. You were lonely, plain and simple, and the feeling of laughing and talking with another person was almost heavenly.

The two of you were complaining about a citizen who was placed down the street, an older women who was constantly blasting the most God awful gospel music, no matter what time of the day, morning or night, sun or rain, she always had the volume practically all the way up, when suddenly, Daryl retreated his wrist, an action that caused you to stop mid sentence. Your words fell short when he removed the thin rod from the drain, a large clump of long, white and gray pepper colored hair accompanying the plumber’s snake as it retreated. The drenched hair had wrapped itself around the plastic stick, twirling around the appliance as the water suddenly began to drain, liquid disappearing into the pipes, swirling within the porcelain tub before exiting your vision, a loud slurp noise following in quick pursuit.

Obviously, the locks had not belonged upon your head, most likely left behind by the previous owners, a fact that seemed to spare you from the ton of future embarrassment you had been previously bracing yourself to receive.

“Thats fucking disgusting.” You exclaimed at the disturbing discovery, completely forgetting the topic you were conversing about prior to the scarring revelation.

The male grunted in response, a sign that signaled to the fact that he agreed with your vulgar statement while his expression echoed around the room. The biker was quick to rise to his feet, desperately desiring to rid of the object placed within his palm as he headed towards the trash can, boots heavy against the thin flooring. Once he arrived in front of the plastic bin, you observed him as he hesitated slightly, unsure of how to disregard the strands without having to come in contact with the locks, obviously not too fond of the idea of touching the drenched hair in an attempt to slide it from the skinny rod.

“Just throw the whole thing away.” You exclaimed once you spotted the expression etched upon his face.

He let out a relieved sigh at your orders, loosening his grasp upon the tool before releasing it, watching as the coated stick floated towards the bottom of your trash bin. Once the biker had rid of the hair, he waltzed towards the shower once more, glancing down upon the now void bathtub before he collected his half finished beer. The two of you finally exited the bathroom, arriving in the den area before starting up a new conversation, chatting for a bit longer while you finished your drinks, standing aimlessly within the silent room as you downed the alcohol. You continued to talk about other small things, topics such as experiences you had witnessed during your time spent at the park and funny things Daryl had observed amongst the residents until you emptied your bottles, your voices slowly dying away before you eventually thanked him for his help.

“Anyway,” you cleared your throat as the room began to emit a thick smog of pure awkwardness “thank you for your help, Daryl. Really.”

He smiled lightly at the sound of his name falling from your lips, a slight wave of confusion falling over him as he ducked his head in embarrassment, quick to notice the fact that he had become slightly fond of you, someone he barely even knew, someone he practically just met. A wave of pride washed over him, feeling fulfilled as you thanked him, praising him for his assistance as his affection deprived mind ate up your grateful statement. It was rare for the biker to receive such flattery, it almost felt foreign as he thought of an acceptable response.

During the time he had spent within your home, the male had come to terms with the fact that this was probably the only opportunity he would have to spend time with you, realizing that soon, he would have to disappear back into the trashed trailer placed down the street. He would have to retreat to his previous life, to return to a seemingly far away world where he would experience the loud yelling of Merle mixed with his acquaintances and the familiar taste of a cigarette placed within his mouth as he placed himself upon the front steps. But nevertheless, he was happy you two had at least shared this experience with one another, grateful that this time spent together had even happened in the first place.

“It's nothin.” He responded, placing his empty glass within your outstretched palm.

“I'll find you if the water doesn't drain again.” You said as you collected the warm bottle.

When your ears received the statement of your own words, you realized that the two of you most likely should have tested the quality of the drainage before the biker inevitably exited your home, making sure the water would continue to enter the pipes as it had done before. But, the previous discovery of the disturbing mound of hair appeared to be good enough evidence for both you and the biker.

Finally, the male nodded slightly in response to your words, taking one last glimpse upon your gorgeous essence before turning towards the exit and stepping out the door. Once the two of you had successfully parted ways, the brunette softly shutting the door behind him before heading home, you both noticed how much you suddenly missed one another, yearning for the casual company each of you had just provided before you returned to your old patterns: Daryl rotting away upon a trashed lawn before getting caught within the middle of a petty fight, while you laid upon your couch, staring up towards the ceiling as you became surrounded by a deafening silence.

When you took a shower the next day, the water sank swiftly down the drain.

At around six in the afternoon the next evening, you ran into another problem you discovered around your home: You had purchased a new bookshelf for your living room, a wooden piece of furniture that the owners of a small antique shop, the one you had bought it from, helped you move into the bed of your truck. You had been planning on placing the object within your den for decorative purposes, a wooden bookshelf you were yearning to place photos and trinkets upon that didn't seem to have their own home up until that point. But, you quickly discovered the fact that the purchase was much too heavy for you to successfully carry from your vehicle into your home all on your own.

You sighed in defeat whilst you stood behind your truck, hand placed upon your hip as you assessed the situation: The flimsy tailgate had flopped down sloppily while attached to the car, sweat dripped down your forehead as you lightly panted, the bookcase still stuck within its original position, slid into the middle of the trunk. You had yanked and pulled upon the edges of the furniture, attempting to make it budge even just the slightest bit, but it appeared to fight against you, practically glued to the metal of your truck while it silently cackled at you, watching as the sun beat down upon your exhausted frame.

Although Daryl was nice, sweet, and helpful, you didn't wish to bother him with another task, to disrupt him by requesting his assistance once more, but, you were afraid you had no other options; you tried to relieve yourself of some guilt and culpability by arguing the fact that you genuinely seemed to enjoy each others company, you two smiled and laughed together the day prior, a look of joy, that you rarely saw, inhabited Daryl’s face, as the male was often frowning or glaring towards someone. You also declared that you were lonely, bored and isolated, to the point that you were convinced you were going insane, that you needed someone to talk with. And again, what better option did you have besides the cute handy man placed silently across the road.

But little did you know, the biker was currently sitting upon the front steps of the small home placed down the street, observing you adoringly as you struggled with the large item, smirking to himself as you tugged and pulled at the furniture. He watched as you eventually stepped back while the object stayed put, glaring at the bookshelf as if you were attempting to move it with your mind, a deep focus inching across your face as you assessed the situation, as if the object was going to move upon its own, like it was going to get up from the truck and walk away. With your palms placed upon your torso, you swayed slightly in frustration, wiping your brow as you stood in silence, your beauty growing extremely evident within the summer ambiance.

The male was secretly hoping you'd come over and retrieve him as you had the day before, requesting his assistance once more before disappearing within the depths of your home. He might never admit it but, he too had enjoyed the time you two had spent together the day prior, talking and laughing like average people, chatting about normal topics that did not revolve around drinking or angrily yelling. Everything had just felt so ordinary, extremely customary as he forgot about his life that existed outside of the walls of your trailer, ignoring the hooligans placed within the roads that twisted between the community.

And eventually, that's exactly what you ended up doing: You strutted towards the biker’s direction, doing your best to shake the annoyance and slight anger that had laced your system before you arrived within the male’s vicinity. Your vision quickly picked up upon the fact that he wasn't currently surrounded by a group of four or five other motorcyclists as he was placed all by his lonesome upon the porch stairs, his bike sitting about six feet to his right. Your eyes scanned across some squirrels as they tussled upon the grass, green blades swaying within the wind as the brunette stared towards his empty palms, head down as you approached him. Other than the male placed near the home and the rapid movements of the fighting mammals, the property was vacant.

“Hey, Daryl,” you spoke as you approached him, your voice causing his head to rise, eyes peering up at you from behind his curtain of bangs as if he hadn't been watching you only seconds prior “where's everyone else?”

The male acted as if he hadn't seen you making your way down the street, lifting his vision from his lap to momentarily meet your irises like he hadn't been observing you since the second you pulled into the neighborhood, as if he wasn't just watching you struggle with the shelf about ten seconds prior, and like he hadn't been glancing towards you as you walked down the dust covered road.

“They went to a bar.” The biker stated simply, a response that you punctuated with a nod that displayed your understanding.

“Well, I was just wondering if you could help me with moving a bookshelf? If you have time, that is.” You said, adding the last words rather quickly, an action that caused your sentence to be spoken in a jumbled manner.

You grew slightly embarrassed as a reaction to your distressed addition; you had made the insertion in a polite manner, doing your best to relieve Daryl of any pressure or stress you had possibly applied to the situation. You didn't want to put the male under the impression that he had to help you, trying to avoid perhaps making him receive feelings of guilt or responsibility, as if he was required to assist you. Suddenly, every word that had just been ejected from the depths of your throat seemed to apply a much heavier pressure upon you, like every sentence you were about to utter had to be the definition of perfect, suddenly beginning to stress over the possibility of messing up in front of the quiet biker.

Although, the male did not appear to take notice of your flustered words as he rose from his place upon the wooden steps, exclaiming zero objections as he joined you. You had just spent about ten minutes yanking and pulling upon the wooden object, exerting all of your energy and strength into removing the shelf from within the confines of your truck, and of course, Daryl had witnessed almost every second of this occurrence as well. So, when the biker waltzed towards the bed of your vehicle before effortlessly pulling the piece of furniture from the car, your jaw practically hit the ground. You were going to offer your assistance, to help carry one end whilst he held the other, but he didn't appear to need it as he wrapped his digits around the frame of the shelf, nails digging at the oak material before dragging the furniture from the truck. You watched as he let the object slip into the grasp of his large arms, practically hugging the bookshelf before beginning his journey towards your home.

Observing the biker pick up the piece of furniture with ease, sliding it from upon the truck into his tanned arms, wrapping his biceps around the object was an action that caused his muscle to strain under the pressure, tendons flexing and bulging as his limbs grew tense, the setting sun casting a glimmering mix of warm colors and cool tones upon his smooth skin. As the male headed towards the open door, the recent realization caused your mind to begin to wander, pondering upon the idea of his toned arms wrapped tightly around your torso, your body replacing the bookshelf currently occupying his grasp. You did your best to imagine how the warmth of his figure would feel as it radiated upon your own, wondering how your flesh would perceive his soft skin as it rubbed and pressed against you, and finally, you visualize how his hands would appear as they were placed upon your waist or linked around your back.

You suddenly shook your head, doing your best to rid yourself of the previous thoughts occupying the chambers of your mind as you quickly followed within the male's footsteps, traipsing behind him while the two of you crossed your lawn. You were growing excessively confused, and even a bit concerned, due to your sudden magnetism towards the brunette, finding your eyes searching for both the male and his alluring features as if your mind disregarded the fact that he was practically a stranger, someone you had been alone with once before that moment. Although, you just ended up convincing yourself that you were lonely, you had been without the affection of another human being for a long while now and you were becoming slightly attracted to the qualities of the first decent person you had come in contact with. You didn't know him enough, he was sweet, pleasant, and somehow handsome all at the same time, of course you'd develop a small appeal towards the male, but it was nothing more than that.

“Where do ya wan it?” He asked as the two of you started your adventure up the steps of your home.

“Just right there would be perfect.” You responded once you both arrived within the den, pointing towards the corner of the small room.

He was quick to obey your orders once more as he stalked across the living room, carefully placing the shelf upon the rug once he arrived within the object's desired destination. He turned towards you once more as he had successfully accomplished the mission, setting the bookshelf within your home before awkwardly awaiting your next directions. But in all honesty, you had none: Carrying the new furniture had been the only thing you required his strength for, now your need for assistance had come to an end and before you knew it, your time spent together was soon to be over.

You observed the way Daryl stood anxiously while swaying within the depths of your den, clasping his hands together as he stared down upon the floor, appearing so awkward and out of place: His dark clothing were clashing against the light interior of the trailer, his nervous actions were conflicting the calm and relaxed essence of your home, and most of all, a creature, other than yourself, inhabiting the room was almost unheard of. You wracked your brain for anything else you could possibly need him for, something that perhaps required repairing or an object that remained just out of your reach, any reason that could help fend away your loneliness for just a few more moments.

“Uhm, Daryl,” you exclaimed, your sudden vocalization causing the biker to glance upwards towards you “can you bring me on that motorcycle ride now?”

Your request appeared to catch the male off guard; in all honesty, Daryl had assumed you would just forget about your previous proposition, guessing it was just an idea you had thrown out to keep the conversation flowing successfully, not that it was actually an activity you desired to take part in.

The brunette nodded timidly.

You smiled suddenly, a stupid, girlish grin appearing upon your lips as the two of you returned to the outside world, your eyes quickly landing upon the setting sun placed above you: The large star had begun to really disappear behind the horizon at that point, an action that caused an explosion of reds and oranges to paint the sky. The clouds were laced with a neon pink, detailed with a light yellow while the glowing orb coward behind the trees, small, glimmering stars beginning to scatter themselves across the rainbow sky, gleaming dots that freckled their way along the darkening atmosphere. Your eyes widened at the observation of the landscape placed above you, wondering how it had turned this beautiful during the short period of time you had spent inside.

Daryl quickly took notice of the effect the sky had upon you: Your skin was glazed in a light orange, flesh glistening like the sparkling stars as you were placed beneath the neon hues blazing within the skyline. Your dazzled eyes were shimmering, irises twinkling underneath the lighting, pupils sparkling with little glints of yellow and orange. The aura surrounding your entire frame was almost hypnotizing, your body seemed to be outlined by a light pinkish static, your hair laced with a vermillion type of gloss, an effect that caused the top of your head to begin to almost shine. The environment caused you to glow, your entire being was glimmering as if you were an angel who had just recently landed upon Earth, with amazed features to match, ones that made you look as though this was your first time witnessing a sun set.

“M sorry,” Daryl began to speak, a random apology that caused you to glance towards him as you advanced upon his bike “I dun really own any helmets.”

You responded with a silent nod, his admission a bit unnerving, your anxiety beginning to heighten at the idea of taking part in your first motorcycle ride without any form of protection, head void of any sort of headgear was a risk factor. But, oddly enough, you somewhat trusted the male, strongly believing that he would never put you in any sort of danger, certain that he wouldn't drive too fast nor too dangerously while supporting you, and you were convinced that he wouldn't take any risky turns or become involved with any form of threat. For some odd reason, he presence alone somewhat relieved you, as if he was some sort of guardian angel sent down to protect you as every interaction you two shared had been an example of him purely helping you: First, with the clogged drain, assisting you with clearing it, next with the shelf, helping you decorate your home, and now, he was supplying you with a completely new experience. You also couldn't forget how genuine he had been, unable to put you within an uncomfortable situation by possibly flirting with you or perhaps making any other, nasty advances.

This realization caused you to observe the biker in a new lighting, features soft as you gazed upon him, tan skin glazed with a layer of sheen under the orange lighting, rustic characteristics becoming subdued as he too admired the setting sun, blue eyes relaxed as he blinked in slow phases. The way he carried himself within that moment was swift, movements appearing almost programmed as his hair bounced with every movement, shadows currently being casted down upon his large muscles. He was so rough yet so mellow, as if he really was a pure spirit wearing the disguise of a belligerent individual.

Daryl helped you upon his bike, generously offering you a hand, palms connecting softly before he showed you how to straddle the seat and where to place your feet, presenting directions that would be the most helpful before he eventually mounted the vehicle as well. You instinctually wrapped your arms around his torso, limbs snaking around his waist before your fingers laced together upon his chest. He was warm, a comforting heat was being transmitted from the dark leather onto your stomach, a relaxing discovery that caused you to resist the seemingly overpowering urge to place your cheek upon his back. His frame was thick within your grasp, structure wide enough to cause your upper arms to stretch and pull taunt as you did your best to twist your limbs all the way around the male. He felt homely as well, so much so to the point where you desired to cuddle into him further, to allow your eyes to become heavy before you inevitably fell into a deep, comfortable sleep.

The male swallowed harshly, it was an unfamiliar feeling to have another person wrapped tightly around him, to receive the motion closest to a hug from another being, although he had no objections. The biker enjoyed the physical touch, to have your small figure pressed against his own as you held onto him for protection just felt so correct. He liked the feeling of your arms placed around him tightly, squeezing his sides before your hands clasped together upon his upper abdomen, he appreciated the feeling of your plush body pinned against his own. Your frame was warm, figure melding with his own as your flexible skin invited him further, holding him against you as you awaited his next movements.

The brunette had not exactly expected for you to do what you had just done, to wrap yourself around him as though he was some sort of large teddy bear, although it had made sense as to why you had: Safety. Perhaps, if this had not been your first bike ride, you wouldn't need to rely upon the support of the male, possibly just allowing your arms to fall limp as your body began to roll with each bump upon the road, moving simultaneously with the gyrations of the bike. But instead, you were fearful of flying off the motorcycle, being launched from your place upon the vehicle if the biker possibly hit a turn too hard or drove very fast.

“Alrigh. Ya ready?” He asked.

“Mhm.” You grumbled, scared that if you had actually spoken a correct word, the audible shaking within your words would become evident.

Your heart was pounding so loud you were sure Daryl was able to hear it from his spot upon the bike as it rattled around within your rib cage, banging against your skeleton. You were positive the biker was receiving the movements of your organ thrashing against his back, heart pumping so violently that he was able to feel its rapid activities pressed upon him. Your face was growing warm due to a mix of fear and embarrassment, nervous that he would turn to ask if you were alright, as a result of your overactive heart, just for his vision to land upon your flustered face. You were growing humiliated as you became inevitably nervous, although you knew your reasonings were illogical.

The roar of the bike suddenly coming alive began to drown out the thumping within your ears, a rumbling that began to echo around the alleys and pathways placed throughout the neighborhood, one you were extremely acquainted with as it often woke you during the late hours of the night. The slight trembling within your palms became also hidden by the violent vibrations being admitted from the metal vehicle placed below you.

After both of you finally exited the park, entering the street placed outside the entrance of the community, the two of you coasted for a while; you didn't exactly have a desired destination in mind, remaining silent as you took in all the views that surrounded you, watching as trees and homes flew past your vision like a blurry photo while you ventured through the heavily wooded area. You observed the setting sun for a while, noticing the way the bright colors slowly began to morph into much darker ones, starting from warm yellows and mellow oranges before ending upon a dark blue after mixing with a light purple. Dust was quickly trailing behind the motorcycle as you rode, rocks being expelled from beneath the rough tires and dirt ejecting itself beside the bike. The heavy wind that had began to flow through your hair felt celestial, a breeze roaming within your locks that seemed to cool your entire system, relieving the previous heat that had appeared upon your cheeks, the red that had traveled upon the tips of your ears and the bridge of your nose slowly disappeared as the lukewarm air washed it away. You barely took notice of the civilians roaming the concrete when you began to enter more populated areas, the motorcycle drowning out your thoughts as you became relaxed, easing all of your previous fears, doubts, nerves, everything as you just observed the multiple areas you drifted through.

You picked up upon the fact that the male began to magnetize towards a much more desolate area, merging upon a dirt covered street, a much heavier set of trees guarding the road, shrubs that began to block the illumination of the moon placed above you, an observation that caused you to grow tense. You remained mute, not uttering a word about the off putting situation as you allowed the biker to lure you further into the woodland area, grip upon him growing tighter until he finally came to a stop.

Daryl allowed the motorcycle to come to halt within a small opening, trees parting upon what you believed was one of the highest points in town. The tiny expanse, that didn't seem to support any sort of greenery, allowed your eyes to land upon a dazzling view, vision quickly placing itself upon the land below you: There was an array of glimmering lights speckling the night fallen civilization built beneath you, windows glowing and lamp posts shimmering as if they were small stars littering the inky town. You began to spot the many homes, shops, and other buildings as your pupils adjusted to the dark landscape underneath you, your position caused the structures to morph into tiny, ant sized versions of their previous selves as the sound of a bark released from a far away dog began to echo into your ears, howl muffled and almost inaudible. The mountains and hills placed far behind the homes rolled and rose within the background, remains of the previous sunset still barely evident as a light glow danced its way across the peaks of the elevations, crowning the dark mounds with a light yellow. The sky placed above you was almost a direct depiction of the land beneath it, twinkling stars dotting the inky sky just as the lamps and windows did to the dark area below you, and the atmosphere was seemingly void of color, a deep black supporting a dark, navy blue just as the town appeared underneath you. The landscape placed beneath your vision seemed to perfectly mirror the one held above you.

“Woah,” you exclaimed, almost in a breathless manner “it's beautiful… How did you find this?”

The male was unresponsive for a moment, picking up upon the way your grasp had fallen from his body, palms landing upon your thighs before you spun upon the bike, turning yourself so you were placed towards the landscape, wishing to diminish the pain that was beginning to appear within your straining neck. Daryl would never admit it, but he secretly missed the warmth of your body; the male did not often receive any form of physical affection, not really experiencing many hugs, kisses, or simple pats upon the back throughout his lifetime, and although your actions were far from fitting the definition of “physical affection,” any sort of touch he received often had him flinching. But not with you, it seemed different. Almost instinctual or natural. It felt normal.

The brunette shrugged as the wind continued to clash against his frame, the air howling, leaves upon the trees quivering and rattling from above you, shaking and trembling within the breeze. It was quiet for a while after Daryl’s response, the two of you just remained within a comfort laced silence as the male observed you; you were watching the view with wide eyes, vision darting across the landscape, attempting to witness every possible view due to the fact that it was your first moment witnessing the sight. He smiled, pleased with himself as he noticed the look etched upon your features, one of pure amazement and bliss as you admired the miniature town placed below you.

“Why did ya move here?” He asked suddenly.

The biker was placed back to you as he spoke, taking away the opportunity for you to observe his features, for you to assess the situation and concur exactly why he would ask such a thing, seemingly out of nowhere. If you had access to his face, you might be able to read the emotions etched upon his characteristics: Maybe he would have had his eyebrows furrowed, indicating that he was genuinely confused, or perhaps he would have a lip drawn upwards, supporting a look of disgust and judgment. But instead, all you could spot was his fluttering hair and the dark outline of his nose as he stared into the horizon.

The wind suddenly grew stronger from the incline you were placed upon, a gust that pulled your hair backwards, locks dancing within the breeze as you stared upon the back of the male's head, an action that caused your hand to rise, palm successfully pushing the strands from your face.

“Crazy ex.” You replied simply, a wave of awkwardness washing over you, crashing down upon you like a ton of bricks as you brought your hands together, suddenly lacing your sweaty fingers between one another.

You had contemplated lying to the biker, exclaiming that you had wished to escape to a new area or run away to start a new life, but two complications clashed with these fleeting ideas: The first being that the story was strongly unbelievable, why would someone possibly run away to a place like this in the hopes of become a new version of themselves, and the second being the fact that the little voice within the confines of your head strongly advised you not to lie to the brunette. And because of this, the truth came out rather unexpectedly, a confession that caused your system to suddenly flood with anxiety, frame stiffening and breath growing erratic under the intense pressure. A slight change in your demeanor that didn't go unnoticed by the male placed only a few inches in front of you.

Guilt began to plague Daryl’s mind, feeling extremely terrible for the transformation he had put you through, assuming that his inquiry had possibly ruined the experience, and the friendship that was seeming to spark between the two of you. He felt horrible for putting you in such an uncomfortable situation, perhaps causing you to want to grow further from the biker, and because of this, he didn't pry. The brunette didn't ask any further inquiries about the previously mentioned “crazy ex,” not assessing you upon what he had done or how you were recovering. Instead, he asked one more, minuscule question:

“No. Why did ya move here?” He spoke, repeating himself softly.

The brunette added a bit more emphasis to the word “here” the second time around, making it much clearer that he had wondered why you picked this specific area, not what had caused you to move in the first place. You sat with his sentence for a moment, allowing yourself to ponder upon his question while you grew increasingly embarrassed. As you fiddled with his words, you mentally face palmed, scolding yourself for admitting to an occurrence that you initially hadn't needed to confess. You felt that familiar warmth rising to your face once more, a heat that radiated across both your cheeks and nose, a discovery that caused you to turn back towards the outlook, an attempt at shielding your features while you began to scream within the confines of your mind. You had most likely made the situation awkward by misreading his tone and the context within the circumstance, an intense confession that you had planned upon keeping to yourself for a while.

“I-” your sentence momentarily stopped short before you continued “don’t know.”

What you had said was technically true, you didn't exactly know why you had moved into the trailer park, you had taken the low pricing into account, a realization that the living costs were cheap played a large role within why you had moved. Although, so were the living conditions, inexpensive and poor, but you had always lived within places such as the one you were currently calling your abode, you had always inhabited the confines of trashed trailer parks or rundown, tiny homes, quickly becoming used to the below par lifestyle and the constant struggles you had to face, whether that be with the utilities or other civilians. Perhaps you had morphed into a creature of habit, resorting back to the only environment you had ever known, but your reasoning for why you had chosen this specific trailer park was practically a mystery to you. It wasn't in your dream town, desired city, or even the state you had aimed for.

Although Daryl had just replied with a simple nod of his head to your stuttered words, his mind was currently racing: You appeared to belong nowhere near trailer parks, or even close to the type of town you two were currently venturing through, so much so that if the biker had spotted you upon the streets, he would have assumed you belonged in some fancy home or upscale neighborhood. You were extremely attractive in the eyes of the brunette, you obviously took care of your appearance, with your pristine hair and smooth skin, whilst you were also very kind; you had good manners, you were sweet, and you seemed very compassionate, nothing compared to the obnoxious and immoral women he had grown used to. So in his mind, he was still stuck upon the unanswered question that was why you had even chosen a trailer park in the first place.

But, once again, he didn't pry, he remained silent as he allowed you to observe the view for a while longer before starting his motorcycle once more.

After that experience, the two of you quickly grew much closer; in the beginning, Daryl was often much too shy to ask for your company, too nervous to possibly disrupt you or overstep your unspoken boundaries, he couldn't possibly risk coming off as creepy or being perceived as annoying. But, he quickly came to the conclusion that you were quite the opposite, often bounding at the opportunity to request the bikers companionship, a fact that the brunette was surprised and happy with; it wasn't often that someone desired to hang out with the male, and because of this, he was not really used to the idea that another being could possibly enjoy his presence, but just knowing you were very willing to be around him was a thought that made his stomach do a summersault, a revelation that warmed his heart.

At first, the two of you would maybe go on a short motorcycle ride, like the one you had that night, or perhaps he would help you with more tasks around your home, often chores you were very capable of completely on your own, like moving the couch or reaching something placed high upon the wall, but you genuinely just wanted someone to converse with, and the biker never seemed to object. Then, it escalated into a more comfortable, relaxed environment as you began just sitting around and watching television whilst sharing a few beers, or possibly finding your way to a bar in the hopes of playing pool, the two of you would even take a trip down to the river placed behind the small community when you desired a swim, an activity Daryl rarely joined you in, often remaining upon the embankment whilst chatting with you. As the two of you formed a tighter bond, you practically became attached at the hip; you began appearing within Daryl’s current living situation, maintaining your composure when his brother and the older male’s acquaintances licked their lips and flirted with you. Although, the brunette preferred disappearing to someplace different, enjoying the minimal time he spent away from his brother and his boisterous pals.

It was as if you were some form of escape for the biker, a chance for him to erase the memories of the environment he would eventually have to return to. From the way you looked and the way you behaved, to your home and your ideals, everything about you appeared to be the exact opposite of what he had to deal with on a daily basis. During the amount of time he would spend with you, he no longer had to manage his brother and his obnoxious antics, he wasn't constantly berated by the neighbors and their idiotic statements, instead, he was surrounded by the sound of your lovely voice, allowing himself to take part in enjoyable, and sometimes intellectual, conversations as the two of you shared your opinions and stories. He would no longer be engulfed within the disheveled structure his brother called their house or surrounded by constant bickering and violent brawls, instead, he could escape within the walls of your beautiful home, receiving the opportunity for the two of to attend a cute diner or take a walk within the desolate woods. You were like his own, personal paradise. His heaven.

With this forming friendship, overtime, you began to notice how you were beginning to grow different types of feelings towards the biker; you often found yourself daydreaming about the brunette, whether you were placed within the confines of your bed, unable to drift off to sleep as the thought of the male began to creep within your head, or when you were tending to some chores around your home, the thought of him always seemed to be lingering within your mind. But, how could you not become fond of him?

The male was sweet, nice, and very helpful, always offering you a hand around your trailer, more than willing to repair multiple appliances or tend to any problems you were experiencing. Other than your previously listed struggles, Daryl had assisted you in getting your vehicle fixed, helped you repair your sink, and he had even painted your bedroom walls. The biker was also very respectful, he had never once made you feel uncomfortable as he was extremely careful when it came to valuing your boundaries. The brunette had never made an uncomfortable joke, he had never attempted to touch you or use you in any inappropriate manner, and he had even beat the shit out of another man who had slapped your ass while the two of you were partaking in a walk. And somehow, the biker was very attractive as well, his sharp features mixed with his mysterious aura was very alluring. His bright, blue eyes seemed to stand out against his dark hair, irises that portray his every emotion as he often remained silent, pupils lively, displaying all of his feelings and opinions as he stared upon you with them. His chiseled jawline and light stubble were also huge factors that played into your attraction towards the man. He was also so manly, you often spent your free time adoring him as he worked upon his bike or fixed appliances around your trailer, growing smitten over the way his muscles strained and tensed underneath the pressure he applied upon them, large upper body bulging as he repaired your utilities. Images of his muscular arms wrapped around you while the two of you held one another, or as he embraced you after you returned from a stressful day, often plagued your dreams.

You were very aware of the fact that you most likely shouldn't have been receiving those sort of feelings towards Daryl, due to the reality that he was one of your only friends and you most certainly were not fond of the idea of possibly losing him. You didn't enjoy the thought of frightening or disgusting him with a rash confession of your feelings, an admission that you were 100% certain would scare him away. The biker had also been very humble, as mentioned previously; you had never caught him ogling you, not for one moment had he objectified you or fetishized you by announcing any form of nasty pick up lines or gross ideals, in no way shape or form had he ever made any inappropriate advances upon you, and, most importantly, he had always remained extremely helpful and accommodating. So, you decided that you'd just keep your feelings to yourself until you were no longer able to, staying consistent with your previous pattern of daydreaming of the biker and taking part in friendly conversations and socializations with the male.

But little did you know, Daryl felt no differently; as time went on, the male had grown smitten with you as well, jumping at any opportunity to spend time with you, even if it wasn't one on one. He adored making you laugh and giggle, and he would never miss the chance to observe your wide grin as the two of you approached one another. Your presence alone made the brunette's stomach do summersaults within his abdomen, your striking features, intoxicating aroma, and admirable personality never failed to cause the biker’s knees to grow weak. He adored how confident you were, poised enough to wear the clothing you desired to, amplified assurance to behave the way you often did, even within the confines of an environment such as a trashy trailer park, and sufficiently assertive to approach Daryl the way you had about a week into your stay, even after taking into consideration who he had been surrounded by. He also admired your ability to take care of yourself, standing up to the vulgar men as they treated you like a possession, an animal, an object, anything but human. You were so capable of repairing your problems and struggles on your own, even if you often asked the brunette to reconstruct various tasks, chores he was aware you knew how to mend with your own strength and knowledge. But, he could never bring himself to deny your requests, although he had never desired to do so.

However, what had kept the male from admitting his pleasant feelings for you was a mix of fear, terrified of the notion of you slipping from his grasp, the only thing that had made him feel true happiness in a long while, and his extremely low self esteem; Daryl had never thought much of himself, always imagining himself as a lowlife, unattractive, inferior, criminal, ideals that had always been repeated from the mouth of his older brother, two participants that constantly lowered his self image. And, due to these bombarding beliefs, the biker had continued to patronize himself, reminding himself of all the things he had yet to accomplish, convincing himself that he had done so much wrong that he was just a waste of space, someone who didn't deserve to have an angel such as yourself to call his significant other. The biker viewed you as a celestial being, a superior human who he was lucky enough to have graced his vision, someone who would never consider a being such as himself. He believed he wasn't good enough for you, and he couldn't risk the embarrassment of being rejected by a human such as yourself.

One night, around ten o'clock, about a month or two after the both of you had taken part in your first motorcycle ride, you and Daryl had placed yourselves around a small fire. You had built the blaze within your front yard, one that would give you the ability to view the glimmering stars above you without the overcasting shadow of the trees mixed with the shielding structure that was your own trailer. The two of you were currently sitting around the fire, you were placed comfortably within a lawn chair while the brunette had plopped himself down upon a tree stump placed about half a foot to your right, one you often used to chop and cut wood. You were quietly observing the flames as they licked up around the logs of the campfire, successfully projecting small sparks into the night sky, tiny, glowing chunks that joined the glistening stars littered above you as the blaze groaned and crackled.

At some point, you had begun watching the biker from within the corner of your eyes, noticing the way an orange glow had glazed his face, illuminating his solemn features as he stared into the fire, as if he was contemplating something. You quickly recognized the look etched upon his characteristics, it was one he often supported whilst he sat upon the front steps of the tiny home placed down the street: His lips were drawn into a thin line as his eyes remained glued to one, specific object, the item that had fallen victim to his scrutinizing gaze this time was the lively flames. His hair was currently dangling in front of his features, bangs that casted a light shadow onto his face, a grayish silhouette that outlined his smooth forehead, the bridge of his nose, and a portion of his right eye, pupils that were glimmering within the lighting. His blue irises had transformed into a light teal mixed with a layer of yellow as he sat in silence, fire contorting his face in small segments, pieces that had only revealed themselves to your attentive eyes.

The two of you had remained quiet for quite some time, a silence that was no longer awkward compared to the way it used to be. At some point, the tranquility had morphed into a comforting aura, one that engulfed you as the, oftentimes mute, biker accompanied your surroundings. You both had resorted to listening to the sound of the laughter echoing itself down the populated streets as community members wandered the roads, talking and laughing amongst one another. You also allowed your ears to receive the slight tremble of the nature that seemed to guard the backside of your home, bushes rustling as the flames hissed in front of you. A mosquito had also begun buzzing within the shell of your ear, one you were quick to raise a hand and smack. Merle had even stopped by momentarily, chatting you up for a bit before eventually disappearing into the night, allowing you and the biker to remain alone once more. The two of you had permitted yourselves to enjoy each other's company for a while, not being pestered or harassed by other civilians as you alternatively became relaxed within one another's presence.

You knew exactly why you had invited Daryl over, you were aware of the actions about to unfold when you skipped across the road around eight that night, in search of the handsome biker. You could no longer hide your feelings, plain and simple; you were finding it much harder to fight back the overpowering urge to reach out and grasp at the males hand while the two of you walked side by side, or from kissing his cheek every time he repaired one of your appliances, and you were even receiving the impulse to refer to him as “hun” or “sweetie” whenever the two of you greeted one another. The male was beginning to take up every second of your being, you made it a priority to visit the biker at least one a day, spend time with him whilst chatting and laughing amongst each other, and when you weren't lingering around the brunette, you were thinking of him, following little storylines within the confines of your imagination or reminiscing upon a moment the two of you had shared together, and when you were not reflecting upon the male, you were sleeping. Slumber that was plagued with dreams of the handyman.

Your heart yearned for him, that was obvious, it just about hurt how much you desired him at that point. It was as if there was an emptiness within your chest, a hole in the shape of a quiet and adorable biker. You had to tell him, you had reached the point of impending implosion, the secret was eating you alive.

“I want you to kiss me.” You blurted out.

In all honesty, that probably had not been the best way to approach the situation, even you could admit that, but it was as if the words began to tumble from your lips before you could even ponder upon your course of action. You were screaming within the confines of your mind, face beginning to turn a light shade of pink as your own sentence entered the chambers of your ears. You quickly came to terms with your previous action, a small voice speaking loudly over the continuous, frantic yelling, exclaiming that what had been said was done, there was no going back, so you embarrassingly allowed your head to turn in his direction.

You observed as Daryl did the same, neck spinning as he faced you; his features were blank, eyes void of emotion, eyebrows placed comfortably upon his brow bone, skin remaining its previous tan color, and his lips continued to lay in a tight line as he gazed upon you. Your vision was darting around his face in a delirious manner, searching for any sign of a response as he remained frozen in time, even his hands were motionless upon his knees, not even a slight twitch had been emitted from his legs.

“Daryl,” you sighed, feeling a much stronger wave of embarrassment wash over you as a response to his concerning reaction, eyes quickly falling from his face and landing upon your lap “I really like you, and I-uh, I don’t exactly know how to say this, but I don't think we can continue being just friends anymore.”

As the biker remained silent, staring at you as if the words that had just tumbled from your lips had not even reached him yet, you grew even more nervous, anxiety nipping at your stomach. The male remained quiet, eyes glued to your own as no sign of emotion appeared to wash over him: His eyebrows hadn't drawn themselves into a confused knot, his face never turned a deep, flustered red, nor had his hands began to nervously fidget, as they often had when he was placed within an awkward experience. After a while of this, the brunette remaining mute as you became nauseous, you finally exhaled a large huff, defeat crashing down upon you as you rose from your spot upon the lawn, wiping your dirt laced palms upon your jean covered thighs.

“I'm sorry, really. I'm sorry.” You spoke as you stood, repeating yourself like some sort of broken record before you made your way towards the front steps, disappearing within the walls of your home.

In all honesty, Daryl had not remained silent out of disgust or some form of protest, which was the way you perceived his actions. You received the biker's quiet behavior as a pure sign of distaste, his mute gestures a clear indication that he was in fact very against your suggestions. But, that could not have been further from the truth: The male had remained silent as he was much too nervous to mess up the bond the two of you had formed, a delicate structure both of you had spent carefully building over the last couple months, and the brunette was scared of the idea of possibly losing you. A little known fact about the biker was that he had never really had a girlfriend before, he had been with women and experienced a few dates, but he had never really dated a female he truly had feelings for, a verity you were very unaware of. Therefore, because of this, the male was almost positive that if the two of you were to carry on down that sort of path, he was certain to mess up and ruin things between you two; he didn't know the first thing about a genuine, loving relationship, he was unsure when to kiss you, where to hold you, how to act during dates, or even how to act as a boyfriend. So, consequently, he couldn't bring himself to accept your offer, although it had been everything he had ever wished for, he was just too fearful of losing you.

However, little did the biker know, that was exactly what had happened right then: You were slipping from his grasp.

After that night, you slowly began to distance yourself, too embarrassed to face the biker following the eventful evening, nervous that he was disgusted with you and no longer desired to spend time with you. So you took it upon yourself to reject yourself: You stopped approaching him, cheeks burning as they grew a rosie red whenever you happened to spot him, you gave up upon spending time around both him and even he buddies, and worst of all, you stopped requesting his help, often resorting to the assistance of another male down the road, a lengthy man named Adam.

Daryl noticed the change in your demeanor very early on, picking up upon the fact that you rarely came to visit and you completely stopped talking to him, only rewarding the male with a polite wave mixed with a small smile. Naturally, this revelation irked him, a sudden pit forming within the depths of his stomach due to this discovery, a finding that inevitably made him realize that he would be forced to return to the front steps of his current living situation. He had resorted back to dissolving upon the stares of the ratty trailer, rotting away in the summer sun as he sipped upon a beer, occasionally jumping within the depths of a fight that his brother had somehow started. The only source of happiness he had received, practically since birth, had escaped his life, but nothing could have prepared him for what would conspire about three weeks after the incident, when Daryl began to spot another male entering your home, the previously mentioned Adam.

Adam was a blond, 5 '11, salesman who lived down the street, he owned a nice, silver car alongside an all black motorcycle, one he often took upon joy rides. Admittedly, the blond was a fairly nice guy; during the few conversations the brunette had shared with him, Adam had remained very polite, respectful, and kind with the biker. The blond was practically the epiphany of a woman's dream man: He was tall, nice, blond, and supported a striking pair of blue eyes, facts that lead the brunette to conclude that you were most likely pining after Adam, a realization that caused Daryl to grow ill. The brunette’s constant obsessing over the thought of you and Adam together didn't do wonders for his self image.

Daryl would observe the two of you as you entered your home, giggling amongst yourselves before disappearing within the doorway of your trailer while the biker remained placed upon the rotting front steps of his current house. The sight made him become sick, his heart shattering into a million pieces as he silently let you go, keeping to himself as you appeared to replace him with the blond. The male would often reminisce upon the moments you had shared together beforehand, the motorcycle rides you had spent pushed against his frame and the long conversations you shared late at night within the darkly lit confines of your living room, he had even began to miss the way you insisted upon washing his worn clothing and tending to his deserted hair, slight habits that often annoyed the solemn male at the time, but that was the most he had technically interacted with you: Through memory.

His breaking point creeped up upon him when the sound of a bike roaring to life entered his ears around nine one night, a familiar rumble that caused the male to sit up from within his spot upon the couch; in any other circumstance, the amicable noise would have been one the brunette wouldn't have thought twice about, due to the fact that many of his acquaintances were motorcyclists, he would have just concluded that the abrupt sound had been one of the lousy fools he often surrounded himself with. If it weren't for the fact that the large pack was currently engulfing the biker, a sea of motionless bodies littered the room as the group had passed out much earlier than expected, a result from their full itinerary of drinking and smoking that day. That piece of evidence was what led Daryl to rise up from his slumber, sitting up upon the couch before pushing himself to an upright position, quick to carefully creep towards the windowsill. Once the male had arrived at his desired destination, he allowed his fingers to trail up the curtain, parting the shades with his digits before peaking through the glass.

His eyes surveillance the area, blue irises scrutinizing his surroundings, skimming across the discarded pile of black trash bags that had been deserted at the end of the short driveway, vision dancing across the motionless landscape, the moon shining high within the sky, atmosphere dark as minuscule stars dotted the skyline, before his eyes landed upon your property. The biker quickly spotted you, your shoulders jolting as you tossed your hair upon your back before eventually straddling an unfamiliar bike. He allowed his pupils to trail up the vehicle, vision grazing past your dark silhouette and up the black frame of the motorcycle before he finally spotted the outline of another person's body: Adam. The brunette observed as you placed yourself upon the blond’s bike, arms wrapping themselves around his torso as you settled into your position before taking off, disappearing into a cloud of dust down the vacant road.

The sight caused his breath to hitch within the back of his throat, the heart-rending sight resulted in his eyes growing weak, glazing themselves in a layer of moisture as the perspiration threatened to spill from the barriers that were his eyelids. That had been the activity the two of you shared, the first real bonding experience you both took part in, not an occurrence Adam and you should have been experiencing. This thought caused the brunette to huff, a shaky breath that expelled itself from the chamber of his mouth as he brought his hands up to his face, rubbing his palms in small circles onto his closed eyes in an attempt to dry them.

The feeling of his eyes growing wet was not something he was used to, it was some sort of foreign sensation to the male, unable to remember the last time he received that sort of feeling. As he dried his eyes, he grew confused, due to the fact that crying wasn't exactly in his nature: He could get punched in the face and have his nose become broken, or witness the same occurrence happening to another being, and he most likely wouldn't have shed a tear. So why then? It didn't take a genius to figure it out, Daryl was losing the one thing he truly cared about, he was being deprived of the place he called home, the person that helped him escape his treacherous life, even just for a bit. The one form of light and happiness in his life was disappearing forever, and it dawned upon him right then that he needed to make his final decision: Would he let you go, let you escape this world with another male, or would he make one last attempt to patch things up?

Gathering the little amount of courage and confidence still left within his system, he tiptoed towards the door, making sure to step over limp bodies and not to activate any noisy floorboards before reaching the exit. He was careful whilst utilizing the door knob, turning it in a manner that was most effective, reaching his fingers around the metal circle and twisting it in a certain fashion that was guaranteed to silence the object. Once the door finally popped open, the biker was quick to exit the crowded home, feet mute upon the small, front landing before he turned back towards the entrance, repeating the previous cycle. Finally, he placed himself upon the stairs, awaiting your return whilst he busied himself with the objects surrounding him:

Understanding that he could be waiting for a long time, he lifted his head, observing the sky placed above him for a while, trying to create shapes and objects with the flickering stars or attempting to spot the darker splotches upon the glowing moon. Eventually, when he found himself growing bored of his previous activities, he moved onto his next target, which happened to be the open window of the trailer placed across the street; the male allowed his eyes to focus upon the glass, shades pushed to the side as his vision circled the interior. He could spot a few brown framed pictures placed upon the yellow stained walls, although his irises were practically completely obscured by the fighting couple placed in front of the window. The male and women were obviously arguing, their screaming voices slightly muffled by the exterior of their home, but he could still hear the faint yelling of the two as a few hits were placed upon one another. The brunette watched them for a long while, observing as they hollered and hit one another, attempting to make out their words and sentences, doing his best to decipher what their fight had been about until a far away rumble began to present itself within the warm breeze. The quiet roar being carried through the wind was a familiar one, the intimate grumble was one of a revving motorcycle, a sound that caused the bikers ears to perk up.

Daryl did his best not to let his impatience get the best of him, due to the fact that the bike could have belonged to practically any resident within the neighborhood, but he couldn't hide his growing restlessness when he began to fiddle with his hands, rubbing his palms together as the noise neared. As the, previously unknown, bike turned into the community, an action that caused the male to begin to fidget with his fingers with much more intensity, his vision finally focused upon the jet black motorcycle, a vehicle that was currently holding two passengers. The brunette momentarily stayed put, eyes following the bike as it came to a halt at the end of your driveway, the blond allowing you to hop off the motorcycle, exclaiming an obvious farewell with the wave of his hand, his lips moving as his words remained silenced under the intense rumble of his vehicle, before he eventually drove off, disappearing towards the direction of his own home.

Once Adam was finally a good distance away, not paying any mind to the women he had just dropped off, the brunette rose from his place upon the wooden steps, practically stomping across the lawn. As Daryl made his way across the street, he observed you as you walked up your driveway, a slight thump noise being emitted from your feet as the souls of your shoes slapped against the pavement. It was evident that you were unsuspecting of the male advancing across the road, until he called out to you:

“(Y/N).” the biker exclaimed, his words echoing throughout the vicinity as the sound of the blond’s bike died down, erasing its previous roar from the area.

The brunette’s voices caused you to swing around, spinning upon your heels before you spotted his figure as he crossed the threshold of your lawn, boots stamping upon the split between the cold concrete and brown dirt. The male was supporting a stern look, eyebrows pulled together, a sign of determination, his irises steady as he gazed upon you, and his lips pulled taunt into a tight line, as if he was in some sort of deep thought. His shoulders were drawn jointly, muscles dense in a stressful manner, fist clenched and knuckles white as he made his way towards you, knowing that deep down, if he didn't do what he was about to, he might never attempt again. His sudden appearance caused your eyes to grow wide, not exactly expecting him to return to your property that night. Or ever for that matter.

“Dar-” You attempted to respond as he finally placed himself in front of you, although your vocalization was cut short by his lips landing upon your own.

You were quite taken aback by his actions, his mouth pressed plush against your own as his large hand snaked its way around your back, firm palm settling upon the small of your spine as he pulled you closer to his figure. You couldn't lie, you momentarily allowed your body to practically liquify into his grasp, mind reeling as you were finally introduced to the way his strong, muscly arms felt as they caged you between his wide chest and his large biceps. The hold the male had upon you was comforting, your figure relaxing into his own as the heat of his limbs radiated upon your own, his body soft and pillow-like as you cuddled further into his warm and safe grip.

You practically felt relieved as his lips pushed themselves against your own, mouths slotting together as if they were pieces of a puzzle, like your lips had been made for the others' usage. His mouth was soft, lips plump as they pressed upon your own, smushing together as the tips of your noses collided. He tasted of cigarettes and metallic beer as he mouthed further into you, a flavor you had never expected to find as delicious as you did right then, mouth practically lapping at the tang being ejected from him. You tilted your head, allowing the male to deepen the kiss as the features of your faces were no longer in the way, permitting the male to pull you further into his lips, soft mouth that practically put you within a trance, hypnotizing you as you allowed him to pepper your lips with long, affectionate kisses.

Daryl began to smile into the depths of your shared kiss, lips curling up into a small grin as he relished within the grasp of your junction. He would have never dreamed of kissing an angel, but here he was, the taste of mint and sugar flooding into the cave of his throat as he held you, small body pinned against his own as the warmth of your figure radiated into his own. Until, suddenly, you began to push him away, a slight irritation rushing through your system that the biker quickly picked up upon, frantic hands prodding at him as you separated.

“You-” you paused while untangling yourself from his grasp, sighing in a mix of defeat and exhaustion, a result of your previous activities, as you did so “You can't just do this to me, Daryl.”

The male gazed down upon you, face an exasperated red, eyebrows furrowing in confusion, and lips covered in a sheen of saliva as he grew disoriented. He observed the look etched upon your face, cheeks a pinkish hue, eyes fluttering up towards him, and a slight frown inching across your lips as a breeze blew through you, strands of your hair trailing behind your dimly illuminated silhouette. He could have sworn you had been enjoying yourself just moments prior, from the way you had kissed him back, to the way you allowed your body to mold into his own.

“I really like you, Daryl, and you broke my heart. And now, I'm trying to move on, and now you come back?” You huffed in a slight anger, although your previous irritation began to simmer.

While you were still annoyed, you could never actually remain frustrated with the sweet biker, it was as if you had grown some sort of soft spot for the male, one that had refused to disappear over time. You had not become frustrated due to his actions, you had quite enjoyed his unanticipated behavior, instead, you were angry with his timing. Why now? Why did it take seeing you with another man for him to suddenly magnetize back towards you, after all that heart break, days spent crying within the depths of your bed as you became overloaded with a wave of overwhelming emotions.

You crossed your arms, tempted to turn back towards him before vanishing into your home, but once your vision landed upon the concerned look written across his characteristics, you couldn't bear to resist him: His eyebrows were now completely pulled together, this time furrowed in a look of confusion rather than determination as he stared down at you, vision darting all across your face as he observed you in deep uncertainty, a look of sadness hidden far within his inky pupils. His mouth was drawn into a thin line as he obviously began to chew upon the inside of his cheek, worry coursing through his veins, fear washing over him as he became terrified of the idea that he had just possibly ruined his last chance with you.

The male had never been one with words, maybe that was why he had remained quiet when you had confessed to him, or possibly why he had just sat there for a few seconds, silently searching for the correct words to use and the right tone to utilize that would make you wish to stay. The biker had always been worried of disrespecting you whilst he spoke, scared of perhaps exclaiming the incorrect words and in turn, ruining a moment with his vocalization, so he often remained mute in situations such as these. Although he remained unaware of the harmful effects his silence often had upon others.

“I like ya too, but,” he paused, momentarily drawing a blank once more before inevitably just allowing himself to continue, permitting the words to flow “I didn't wanna ruin what we had, but… Thas what ended up happenin anyway.”

You quickly spotted the deep, red hue beginning to spread across the male’s face while he spoke, tears of embarrassment mixed with an overwhelming sadness threatening to spill over his eyelids and leak down his cheeks at his confession. You had never witnessed the biker this close to sobbing before, so the genuine sincerity in his words, strong enough to perhaps make him cry, was enough to repair your previously damaged heart.

In all honesty, you had grown fond of Adam, he had made you smile, laugh, and he had been great company, but you desired him in nothing more than a friendly manner, never allowing your relationship to become anything more than that. A friendship. Yes, you and the blond had taken part in some of the same activities as you had with Daryl, occasions such as walks, conversations, and he had even assisted you with some of your maintenance problems, but it had all remained in a friendly manner. Your heart had always belonged to the mysterious, quiet male, memories of him often keeping you up within the late hours of the night, mind yearning for his company throughout the days, and you continued to allow your eyes to take quick glances in his direction whenever you had passed by his abode. You missed him, plain and simple; you often caught yourself calling out to the brunette while you remained alone within the depths of your home, you yearned for your previous chats, and you deeply desired his presence within your life. It had become obvious, during your growing friendship, that he had been made for you, that the two of you were practically perfect for one another: You had supplied each other with a happiness you had not received in such a long while, a joy that caused the two of you to grow unable to envision a future without one another.

Your sudden giggles caught Daryl off guard, erratic chuckles that echoed against the structures surrounding you as you began to support a wide grin paired with squinted eyes, features that only confused the male further while you brought a hand up to your face, placing it over your revealed teeth before you began to shake your head, almost as a display of disbelief.

“I could never stay mad at you, Daryl. You didn't ruin anything, I did. I shouldn't have pushed you away.” You admitted.

The biker had heard what you said, allowing your genuine sentence to enter the canals of his ears, but your words had not clarified anything for him. Perhaps it was the mixture of your abrupt laughter and vague vocalization, but your actions only caused him to wonder if you had been giggling at him, towards his embarrassing confession and you still desired to remain distanced from him.

You glanced up towards the brunette once more whilst removing your hand from upon your lips, laughter dying away as you perceived the look plastered upon his face: He was still supporting his previous expression, one that made you concur that he had remained confused, eyebrows still furrowed and his mouth drawn into a thin line.

At this discovery, you smiled softly at the awkward male before raising yourself upon the toes of your shoes, lifting your face to his lips before placing your mouth gently upon his own. You were quick to allow yourself to melt into his touch, as this time, you had expected the connection and were more than willing to savor it. Your movements remained still as you felt the brunette's hands shakily placed themselves upon your torso, fingers gripping at your skin as the pads of his digits began to carefully rub at your flesh. It was relaxing to receive the feeling of his plush lips once more, mouth soft and inviting as you returned to his protective grasp, the whole world disappearing around the two of you as a feeling of true safety washed over you.

The biker's eyes fell heavy under the control of your passionate mouth, lids clamping shut as he leaned further into your lips, deepening the kiss as you pressed your faces together much harsher. The kiss was deep and passionate, everything the two of you had ever dreamed of as your connection was evidently heavenly, movements angelic as you breathed brutally through your nose. You felt perfect placed beneath the brunette, the male allowing his face to nuzzle into your grip when he received the feeling of your palm upon his cheek, hand grasping at his warm skin as your lips moved in sync.

“Wanna go on a ride?” You asked the biker once the two of you eventually parted.

The male smiled down at you, a completely adoring smirk, breath lagging as he panted, nodding quickly before you grasped at his hand, sweaty fingers lacing together as you practically dragged him towards his motorcycle.

That time, and during the many yet to come, you didn't hesitate to allow your head to rest upon his leather covered back while he drove.

#daryl dixon #Daryl Dixon x reader #Daryl Dixon twd #twd #The Walking Dead #Daryl #Daryl x reader #daryl dixon the walking dead #twd daryl

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calehenituse-brainrot · 9 months

Text

Disturbed Rest

Cale Henituse | Kim Rok Soo x Transported!Reader

Something sinister had happened within the island.

You have known John as deeply as you know yourself, and he knows you as deeply as he knows himself. Memories mixed together, his memories became yours and yours became his. Some bits are missing, either because you both can't remember yourself or because of some divine intervention.

You see John in the faces of nearly every kind, older men you see; be it strangers, professors, or even cleaning services back at your college, and John sees you in the faces of every innocent girl he had ever seen in his life, and often in the face of his right-hand woman, Kore. He feared one day he will forget Kore's face with how often yours were replacing hers.

You don't know how long you and John had been stuck in this loop of memories. Has it been days, months, or years? You wondered what happened to your body with John's after the ship had sunken. You can't remember past anything the moment your body had hit the water. Are you declared dead or missing? If dead, did they enact a search for you and the others? Did they manage to bring you home and give you a place to rest?

"What kind of graves do you think we would have?"

John seemed a bit surprised at the question. He glanced at you for a moment, knowing full well that there were no graves for the two of you, and yet he spoke his answer casually, "Considering you're the Duke's proxy, you'd get those fancy granite slab headstones."

You scrunched your nose as you think about it and John gave you a thin smile, "What? Not fancy enough for you?"

"Try too fancy," you muttered, pulling your knees to your chest as you gaze out to the sight of you and the rest of the people you have called your own family the moment you got transported there.

You were walking beside who you knew as Cale. You could recognize him so easily despite how his face was horrifically switching to the faces of your old male friends. The way he carried himself, how he dressed. Your brain reminds you frequently of him and it made you realize you have accepted the fictional character to be another human being too many months ago. It is an odd moment for such an epiphany.

"I've been feeling weird these days," John suddenly says. You turn to the man, a teasing remark about to fall from your lips to question him how he could feel if he's dead when you noticed something.

John stood beside you, appearing like he was some sort of ghost. He was nearly transparent.

"John?"

Cale sat on a meadow of dianthus flowers, the purple flowers with white tips blowing on the wind and spreading across the field like someone had dumped a basket full of flowers there. He sees the sky, red and orange-like flames as the sun began to set. He sees you in the distance, wearing your modest sundress and walking along the meadow, stomping on the flowers without a care in the world. You don't seem to notice him, picking up your sundress a bit like a noblewoman so you wouldn't step on the lovely dress.

Your hair moves with the wind and with every step you take. Under the shine of the setting sun, your skin seemed to glow warmly. This is how he remembers you and it will always be like this forever. He has no memory of pale skin and bloated skin on you. He had never seen your breathing stop, and for once, Cale was glad he never could have found you. He was not sure he could stomach another death.

Cale calls out for your name, his voice quiet. He began to stand up and watch your figure as it began to get smaller in his line of vision, watching you walk away from him and towards the sunset. Cale calls for your name again, louder this time as he began to follow you, his long legs slowly moving faster as his heart began to drum in his ribcage, begging to be freed from its confines to pursue it's object of affection itself.

You're too slow, his heart seemed to plead. Please, I need her.

Cale calls out your name again, beginning to run despite how he knew he wasn't the best at sports in this body. But in this dream, his body is light and yet heavy at the same time. He desperately reached for you, arm extends and he almost jolted at the feeling of your blowing sundress brushing against the tips of his fingers.

His heart soared. More, it begs him.

You turn around and before Cale could see your face, the meadow seemed to grow larger. The flowers and tall grass seemed to move together, elongating and swirling in odd ways before they encased you as if you were a pupa. The last thing he could see was how your [e/c] eyes seemed to stare at him before a branch covered that small opening as well.

Cale woke up with a start, his face feeling wet and breathing slightly labored. He lets go of Raon who he had tucked close to his side as he slept, hand coming up to clutch at his chest as he tried to slow down his heartbeat. He feels the scar there and tries to remind himself that it was just a bad dream. It was an odd, bad dream. Cale turns to the window, seeing that the sun was shining bright, meaning he had overslept again.

'Huh,' he thought, rubbing his face. 'Damn.'

He was supposed to be up earlier to look around the library for anything that could be of use regarding foreign primordial gods.

He slowly got up from the bed, making sure to not wake the kids as he began to freshen up a bit before having Ron help him. He doesn't want the butler to know he had a bad dream, because Ron had been looking at Cale with a certain gaze lately ever since they had begun looking for any primordial foreign gods that could have been the ones to persuade you to leave them all.

You are desperate, the older man's gaze seems to say. Cale doesn't feel like confirming or denying that assumption, so he never probed further.

"Young Master-nim," Ron began slowly as Cale and the kids were enjoying their dessert.

Cale looks up at Ron, swallowing a bite of his blueberry cupcake. "What is it?"

The three kids peered at Ron curiously. They were curious about what Ron wanted to say and that he needed to speak of it during their lunch.

"I think it's about time this humble servant of yours handle the arrangement for Miss [Name]'s room and her remaining belongings," Ron proposed, his words uttered in a soft way that sounded unfamiliar to him.

The keys to her room, his words implied. Give them to me.

Ron had observed the way Cale grieves. He sees what Cale does to cope with this loss, and he decides it's enough. It's time he locks your door and manages the room whenever it needs any cleaning or refurbishing if any of the furniture were to start falling apart. You already have an empty grave at the memorial. There was no need for another one here.

Cale stared at the blueberry cupcake as if it were the most interesting thing in his life as he listened to Ron's words, immediately catching on to the implications. He acknowledge the odd way he was attached to your room and belongings were unhealthy, and he has no room to argue with Ron. "Okay."

Ron nodded, bowing his head a bit. "Thank you, Young Master-nim."

Cale leans back to the couch he was sitting on, finally looking up at Ron. "Any news from the others?"

"None so far, I'm afraid," Ron says as he began cleaning up the table, picking up the dirty dishes to the stainless steel food cart.

"Oh, Human, Human!" Raon began to say, taking out the magic communication device from his spatial inventory. The device glowed and showed Withira's anxious face as Raon placed it on the table.

"Cale-nim," Withira greeted, her expression mixed with something like anxiety and hope. "I have news regarding Miss [Name]."

Cale's eyes widened for a moment before he frowned. Withira wasn't informed of your letter and how a foreign god seemed to be the trigger for you to leave them all. Cale concluded grimly that the reason why Withira could be calling for him now about you is possibly because she finally came across your corpse. "Did you find her... her body?"

Withira shakes her head and she leaned forward to her screen, causing her to appear bigger in Cale's. "Even better. I found her alive and breathing."

Cale's eyes widened and he stared at Withira. The future royal leader of the Whales has no reason to lie to him, and she would be foolish to use you to even make a joke like this. Cale knew Withira well, and she was no fool and loyal to a tee. "What do you mean?"

"She's alive?" Ohn asked while looking up at Withira with a glimmer of hope in her eyes, something Cale realized had been gone ever since you were officially declared dead.

"Are you sure?" Asked Cale with a frown, his heartbeat drumming against his ribcage like it had when he had woken up earlier.

"I held her," Withira says as calmly as she could. "She was warm and breathing. I checked her pulse and even pressed my ear to her chest to make sure, and her heart was beating. It was slow, but it was there."

Cale's brain was a mess, trying to grasp reality. He searched for every hypothesis his brain could come up with on how you could still be alive. The ship had sunk far from land and it was close to dangerous waters. You're human, so devastatingly human. You wouldn't be able to survive. You should have died from drowning, from dehydration, and perhaps you should have died from being feasted on by the predators of the sea.

You shouldn't be alive.

"Show me," Cale says, a tinge of hope beginning to be shown in his voice.

Withira pursed her lips. "I... I cannot."

Cale frowned and so did everyone in the room. Hong looked at Withira's image on Cale's screen and asked, "Why not?"

"She was on an island," Withira says. "There is a floating island that had been going in and out of our territory for hundreds of years, perhaps even thousands. I, along with Paseton and Archie, stumbled upon it during our swim. We inspected the island and found proof of an ancient civilization and no animals living there. When we ventured deeper, we found Miss [Name]. She was in a ruin, on top of a stone altar, and she wasn't conscious."

"Did you manage to get her out of there?" asked Cale, his suspicions and interest piqued at the situation Withira had faced. It was weird and unsettling how you were alive all this time, laying in a ruin within a floating island that he had never heard of.

"We were attacked before we could," Withira says.

"Attacked?" Cale repeated. The gears in his brain worked. Who could attack them? A floating island in the middle of the ocean. Could you have been saved? Or stranded on that island? Perhaps this was the place that foreign god promised you, as you've mentioned in your letter. Perhaps this was proof that your so-called death was perhaps just a tiny scheme within a great one if you needed to be on that island to the point your "rescuers" would be attacked the moment they touched you.

"Cale-nim," Withira says grimly. "The island... could possibly be alive. Sentient."

Cale rubbed his face a bit as he let the information sink in. He's racking his brain, trying to connect your letter and the information Withira had given him. An island that was sentient, but your letter claimed to hear voices. Even if an island was alive and sentient, whatever that meant, it couldn't possibly use telepathic communication with a clear target of who would be the receiver.

"The island floats, you say?" Cale asked.

Withira nodded. "Yes. Some of our whales are tailing the island as we speak. The island is able to grow long barks that attack, even underwater, so we must keep a safe distance away."

Cale looks at Withira's image on his screen, his hand covering his mouth as he thinks. His mind is jumbled and he's trying his best to think logically. Cage, Jack, and Hannah had been sure that whoever it is that had been communicating with you is a God. "Are there any signs of religion or worship that happened on that island before the civilization died out?"

Withira's eyes widened and by the looks of her expression, Cale only needed her to voice out the answer. Withira slowly nodded, "Y-yes... There were many sculptures of flowers propped on a pedestal all around the island. The ruin we have found Miss [Name] in resembled a great hall or even a place of worship."

"Flowers," Cale repeated, interested.

Withira nodded once more. "Yes, flowers. The barks around the island move like your power, Cale-nim. They are able to elongate and grew and shrink in size, and they have flowers all over the island that has the same shape as the flowers that were sculpted to represent their deity."

A deity within a floating island that controls trees and is represented by a flower, Cale made this mental note. "And the flowers. What do they look like?"

"They were..." Withira closed her eyes, recalling the flowers that grew in the island. It was a unique flower that she had never seen before. "They were purple, perhaps even a deep red, with white tips."

Withira's description made Cale straighten his posture. He recognized this flower. That was the flowers he dreamt of earlier when he woke up. Was this some kind of sign? A sign from you? Perhaps, even the world? Or was this to taunt him?

"Thank you, Miss Withira," Cale says, beginning to stand up. "We will come to your location within a few days time and request that your company lead us to this island."

Withira nodded, bowing her head slightly in respect. "We will be waiting for you."

The next few days were a frenzy for everyone.

Cale and his company were intensely researching a foreign god that was represented by a flower and associated with nature. There were plenty of minor gods that were associated with nature, so it was a large margin to work with. Cale had requested Alver to aid in their research as well, ordering a few scholars to work within the Duchy and the Palace library to find answers. They had enlisted several people in the neighboring Kingdoms and Eastern Continent as well to research, hoping for any sliver of solution.

When they eventually stumble upon a list of few possibilities, Cale and his company eventually went to one of the islands within the Whales' territory, seeing Withira already waiting for them along with Archie.

"You're here," Withira breathed out, the weight of anxiety on her shoulder lifting a bit upon seeing Cale and his company, their faces slightly anxious and hopeful.

"Have you gotten back to the island? How is [Name]?" Rosalyn asked almost immediately, anxiety laced within her voice. Withira gave the red-haired mage a solemn shake of her head, blue hair that resembled clear ocean waters swaying lightly. "Our men haven't been able to go near the island within a few meters. I've instructed them to safely tail the floating island from a safe distance."

Cale took note of Withira's words, recalling the information Withira had given them regarding the floating island's capabilities to ward off intruders by growing barks from below the floating sediment that it seemed to grow on. It caused any large underwater creatures unable to go near the island, protecting the soft base of the island to not break apart. He could assume you weren't regarded as a danger according to the island's "instincts" as you were able to enter and stay within the island. Or maybe you were brought by something or someone.

"So we wouldn't be able to reach the island safely," Cale says to Withira, who nodded as she jumped back to the waters and transformed to be her whale form.

"Please be on your guard the whole time we approach the island," Withira says as Cale and the others began to get on top of a ship tied to Archie's whale form. "The island is able to attack within a distance so this boat will most likely be destroyed while out in the middle of the ocean. You will have to fight your way into the island."

"And the island is sentient," Ron seems to remind Cale. "It seems even if we did get onto the island, we wouldn't be safe within it."

"That's right," Withira confirmed. "The island flourished in its flora, which could move and change shapes and sizes to attack and defend. Thankfully, the island lacked any fauna. Not even birds, so we can be sure it doesn't have control over mammals and such. That could be why there were no animals. Too hard to control."

Cale caressed the kittens' fur. "That's a good thing to know."

"I've never heard of a floating sentient island before," Rosalyn chimed in with a thoughtful look. "We've conducted a heavy research for a few days with some of the royal scholars and several from other countries, but found nothing."

"It is a popular folklore within our kingdom," Withira informed. "We all have heard of the stories of a floating island ever since we were mere calves. We've always been told to avoid it if we ever see it, though this is the first time I have seen it in my two hundred years of life."

"What does the folklore entail?" asked Choi Han with interest. Folklore of certain communities has always been an interesting thing to learn about and some always seemed to be mystical and unsettling.

Withira seemed to think for a moment, perhaps thinking back to her childhood. "That within the floating island lived a very sad man. He could not leave the island and had no friends. To avoid the feeling, he decided to sleep. Every time he woke up, he is devastated to know he still felt sad, so he would always go back to sleep every time he woke up. He slept, slept, and slept until he eventually falls into a deep slumber where no one could wake him up."

"It has been a story to scare young calves for sleeping too much and not training themselves," says Paseton. "We've only been told to stay away from the island to not rouse the man from sleeping and also because even our previous kings had been adamant on not approaching the island if not needed."

'Quite the lazy story,' Cale thought to himself, but he did have to admit the story was quite realistic. Sleeping and depression go hand-in-hand.

"Well, did you find a man there?" Cale asked. He wants to know whether or not the folklore had some truth in it.

"We found a corpse of one," Withira answered. "And we also found [Name], alive but not conscious."

"How long do you estimate the man has been dead?" asked Cale, a theory brewing in his mind.

"Long enough," Withira answered. "Maybe around two-three months."

The gears in Cale's brain seemed to click and agree upon a theory. That was around the time the ship you boarded sunk.

'Could it be...?'

Following a floating island meant following an object that's constantly moving. Withira suspects that it was capable to avoid being so close to any shores was due to the bark that was capable of growing on the base of the island, navigating it to tour the ocean non-stop.

It took them nearly five hours when they managed to get a glimpse of the island. A glimpse. The blue morning sky had turned into an orange canvas with splashes of red and purple when Cale and his companions saw the floating island. It was followed by a couple of Whales, the water splitting and rippling from the swish of their tails as they followed the island from a safe distance.

"How magnificent," Rosalyn breathed out in wonder as she lays her eyes upon the island.

The island was quite small, floating quietly on the deep ocean waters. The edges of the island were stones and large boulders, curling up inwards and resembling a roughly made stone bowl. It was green and flourishing, tall trees and long, multiple branches with many leaves. But the one thing that was eye-catching about the island was the tall tree in the middle of the island, looming the other trees so magnificently, to the point it looked like the island was the root of this big tree.

"Look at the bark of the main tree," Withira says to them all.

They all followed her words, inspecting the large tree and with its odd bark. The tree looked like it was made of multiple barks, twirled together and stretched until it was nearly as high as the skies. Multiple dianthus flowers, in color and sizes, grow on the tree along with its bark.

"The root of those twirling barks is where Miss [Name] is," Withira informed. "With the island being sentient, we cannot erase the possibility of the tree immediately closing in on her when your motives became clear."

"Your Highness," Archie suddenly says, pausing on splitting the waters. "It has noticed us."

"What?" Choi Han asked with wide eyes. "Their radar goes this far?"

"Everyone, please hang on!" Archie exclaimed, sounding alarmed, and Cale and the others immediately held onto the railings of the ship.

Archie bends his whale form so impossibly sharp, his jaws open and he bit down into the oncoming bark underwater. The bark seemed to go frantic, trying to thrash out from Archie's jaws. Multiple barks immediately shot out from underneath the floating island, spreading and targeting every Whale on its tail while keeping themselves underwater. The ship swished along with his movements as he's attempting to rip the bark and it took only moments before the ship capsized, upside down in the ocean.

Another killer whale came, trying to protect the ship they were on as Withira joined the defense, trying to ward off the oncoming barks. Cale made the wind gather into his feet and pushed himself further to support the others so they wouldn't drop to the ocean, spurting blood from his mouth.

"Cale-nim!" Choi Han exclaimed in worry. His voice caught the attention of others and they turned to him, all of them equally concerned.

"Human, don't push yourself!" Raon reminds him with glassy eyes while Cale set them all to the wet hull of the capsized ship, a temporary solution to their current problem. Cale was on his knees, coughing out some blood as his body worked to restore his energy.

"Young Master-nim," Ron says, kneeling next to Cale and offering him a handkerchief. Concern crossed his face with the way his eyebrows are slightly creased, the corner of his lips pulled into a displeased frown.

"This is your chance!" Withira exclaimed, smacking an attacking bark with such force that it immediately broke off and became a deadhead in the middle of the ocean. "We will clear the pathways. Get on my back and hang on tight. We will try to avoid the attacking barks."

"We will try to help," Choi Han says with a determined look.

"I'm fine," Cale says to Ron before the butler could help him stand up and help him to Withira's back.

Cale sat in the middle of Withira's back, hand on top of the scar on her form as he prepared himself. Ohn and Hong was tucked close to his chest, Cale holding them with one arm while Ron was beside him. Choi Han and Rosalyn stood in front of them, Rosalyn with her mana ready and with Raon floating by her side. Choi Han withdrew his sword and planted his feet on Withira's back. "Excuse us, Your Highness."

"Are you ready?" Withira asked them, her voice sounding tense.

"Yes," Cale responds.

Withira split the water when she swam, evading the barks and while her men fought off any barks that dared to attack her. Some barks shot out from the water to knock down those standing on her back, but Choi Han immediately sliced them off with his sword and Rosalyn and Raon would protect them by conjuring a shield. Sometimes a killer whale would jump out from the water to stop the barks and lighten the work for them.

'They're trying their hardest to protect the island,' Cale thought as he watched how the barks had begun to focus more on Withira as she's the only one approaching the island right now.

"Shit-!" Rosalyn conjured up a bigger shield when a killer whale was thrown their way, thrashing in the air and then letting out a wail when it hit Rosalyn's shield. Her shield shook and flickered at the impact but Raon's shield immediately covered it.

"Crazy!" Withira exclaimed, watching as the barks began to chase for her Whales, thick barks wrapped around them and then rising from under the water before throwing the killer whales like toys at them. With more protection, the island began to earn more things to throw at her. "Back down!"

The Whales immediately followed her roar, backing down and avoiding the barks. Withira swam further, mustering all her capabilities into this one swim and the water split as if a high-speed ship with a sharp keel had swam through them, approaching the island quickly. Raon and Rosalyn put more effort into their shields as the barks began to attack them straight on above the water and Choi Han took every chance to slice them off.

"Urgh-!" Withira was suddenly set back as two thick barks quickly shot out and pushed her. The inertia caused the group to nearly got thrown into the dangerous waters but Cale immediately gathered all of his powers and gathered wind into their feet, carrying them up into the air and quickly controlling the wind to bring them into the island.

"Thank you, Your Highness!" Cale exclaimed, trying to make them all land safely inside the island, behind the curling boulders. He ended up throwing them to the dirt a bit haphazardly, but the skilled people he was with managed to land on their feet.

Withira and the Whales swam back, watching from afar. The barks immediately backed down as well and gathered back underneath the floating island's foundation underwater. Withira could feel the two spots on her belly where the barks had pushed her, knowing she will have a hard time swimming for a while if not healed properly. She turned to her Whales, "Is everyone okay?"

As Withira checked on her Whales, Cale and the others looked around the island. Cale had known of floating islands, most were artificial for different purposes, and natural floating islands couldn't get too big. But this one? It was magnificent. The earth was solid and the trees that grew on the island stood tall and loomed over them like giants, dense and slightly unsettling.

"To be able to grow this tall and big..." Cale began, his voice fascinated. These trees were able to grow and flourish for nearly more than a millennium, and as he inspected them closer, he saw no damage done to the trees that could be caused by the constant exposure to salt-laden ocean spray. Typically, when trees grow so close to the ocean, the salt in the air can accumulate on leaves and stems, causing salt burn on plant tissues. Salt burns can disrupt the normal functioning of leaves, leading to reduced photosynthesis and overall stress on the tree.

The leaves on the trees don't even have any hint of yellowing or browning. It grows healthily despite growing so close to the ocean. In areas with high salt exposure, the soil can become saline due to the accumulation of salts from the ocean and it should have stunted the trees' growth, but these trees stood tall and strong for so many years.

Cale touched the curling boulders that seemed to be protecting the island from having any stranded people or ships. The way it curled inwards made the island look like a giant bowl, and it could have been the thing that had been protecting the trees from too much ocean spray, as the curling boulders stood taller than Toonka seemed to be.

"I'm surprised the trees on this island aren't attacking us," Rosalyn commented, looking warily around the area.

"I thought the island is sentient?" Ohn questioned, pawing lightly at one of the roots of a tree with Hong beside her. In her mind (along with the rest of theirs), the island should have been more aggressive the moment they stepped into the island's dirt.

"Keep your guard up," Cale says with a frown. "Her Highness told us [Name] is at the center of the island, underneath the roots of the main tree."

They all turned their heads to look up at the looming tall tree that stood in the middle of the island, so tall that Cale was sure if he went up there, he would be cold and have a hard time breathing. Cale turned to look at the dense forest in front of them, seeing how there were cobblestone paths laid within the dirt as steps, mold growing on them and many were cracked. He turned to Raon, "Raon, do you think you can see the path to the main tree if you fly high enough?"

Raon offered Cale a smile. "Of course! I am the mighty Raon Miru!"

"Good," Cale says with a smile, gently patting the dragon's head before Raon flew up high enough until he could map out the area. He turned to them, calling out, "Human, follow me! I can see the root of that big tree!"

"Let us go," Cale says, walking forward and entering the dense forest, his companions following him from behind with their guards up.

As they walked deeper into the forest, more proof of a past civilization began appearing. The cobblestones were spread in the dirt like a path of a no-transport city, several cobblestones, clay, and wood lay on the ground on what they all assumed must be the homes of the people who used to live there, nature taking over the buildings and have broken them down back into their natural states. Some roots of trees were so big and thick that it was hard to not see and trip on one of them. There were several pedestals of boulders that had been carved into the shape of a dianthus flower, which oddly seemed to be the native flower within the island.

An ancient civilization couldn't be wiped out of existence so quickly like this. It would need some kind of draught or perhaps a drop in the humidity, but the trees flourish here and it would certainly provide enough food for them. Perhaps even a tsunami or an erupting volcano wiped them all out, but the ruins within the island showed that there was no eruption and no tsunamis. The floating island wasn't connected to any tectonic plates so it wouldn't be able to even experience an actual earthquake. The curling boulders by the shore would prevent anyone from leaving, so they couldn't have migrated.

"C-Cale-nim," Choi Han stammered, face averted from Cale and looking down at a lowland from where they were.

"What is it, Choi Han?" asked Rosalyn, following his gaze and her face also paled.

Cale approached them both and looked at where they were looking at. It was a graveyard site that stretched over fifty by fifty meters. Typically a graveyard site wouldn't make one freeze in place, but in front of them was a graveyard site that had all of its graves dug out, graveyard dirt tossed to the side and from their place on an elevated spot, Cale could see that there were no bodies within the graves.

"They all look freshly dug," Ron says quietly. If the graves were dug out a long time ago, the piled-up soil nearby wouldn't be looser and less compacted than the surrounding ground.

'Are we going to fight the undead?' Cale thought to himself, bewildered. He then discarded his thoughts the moment he noticed the dug-out soil didn't look like it was removed from inside the grave.

"Let's hurry," Cale says, anxiety crawling up his spine. He bends down a bit, gently pushing the kittens to face away from the graveyard site. "Follow Raon. We need to find [Name] first."

Choi Han forced himself to look away and continued walking. He couldn't imagine having his loved ones' graves disturbed in such a degrading way like that. Rosalyn pats his back, urging him to walk forward and follow Raon who was waving at them, blissfully ignorant of the reason for their sudden stop as he had flown a bit further.

"Human! I found the roots!" Raon announced with a slight grimace. "And it stinks!"

#cale henituse #cale henituse x reader #trash of the count's family #lout of count's family #tcf cale #lcf cale #tcf manhwa

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ifishouldvanish · 5 months

Text

Some Olrox Analysis & Headcanons

Have you seen this man? Now you have! 🥰

I have a lot of thoughts about Olrox Castlevania Nocturne and I'm dumping them here.

DISCLAIMER: We know so little about Olrox's past and I am but a humble stan looking at an expressionist painting and projecting my own deranged nonsense onto it. I'm fully prepared for 90% of this to get jossed in season 2, but for now I'm just letting the worms in my brain wiggle and send me beautiful visions of what could be 🥹

1. Olrox Was a Commoner and Does Not Respect Hierarchies

I've seen people point to his manner of speech and dress as evidence that he must come from a privileged background, but I think he displays too much contempt for the wealthy/nobility to have been one himself. I think these things are just symbols of power he has learned to use to his advantage.

Of course, there's everyone's favorite quote: "I prefer my blood blue." But he also demonstrates virtually no respect for authority or symbols/institutions of power in general:

He refuses the escort sent by the marquis when he arrives in France and insists on staying at the inn because he likes to "keep his ear to the ground". He would rather be around 'the people' than accept anything from the wealthy.

When Drolta is reminiscing about her glory days as a priestess, there's really not any nostalgia or sentimentality when he interrupts and says "and now those temples are half-buried in dust."

For as good as he is at presenting himself as a Gentleman of Status, he cannot bring himself to even pretend to enjoy himself at Erzsebet's lil debutante ball at the chateau.

When Erzsebet insists she is a goddess, his response is "Of course you are, sweetie 🙂"

His whole speech to Mizrak in the morning-after scene is basically a deconstruction of what power means, and how it is only a perceived vs tangible thing, a temporary position vs an immutable one:

"There are petty demon princelings you can haggle with and cheat. There are demon charlatans whose faces you can laugh in, spit in. There are demons who once were gods... And those who still are."

Foucault? In MY anime adaptation of a vampire video game?? It's more likely than u think 🤔

(continued under the cut bc this got long as hell)

2. Olrox was an Adult when Cortés Arrived

(I don't have a relevant screenshot for this point, so here's Olrox being pretty for no reason)

I've seen it float around some places that if we adhere to historical timelines to a 'T', it would make most sense for him to have been a child, but I'm of the opinion that it's more useful to take what the text itself gives us and fill the gaps with bits and pieces of the actual history where it's convenient. At the end of the day, this is a work of fiction/fantasy. So what does the text tell us?

He lived a long time as human and vampire

As of 1783, he'd been a vampire for approximately 250 years

Now, if we want to take this 250 figure literally, that would put the year of his turning at 1533. But I think we can give ourselves +/-15 years leeway because 250 is just the kind of rounded, even number one would use in natural speech in place of "267" or some shit like that. It's just how believable dialogue is written. So what lies in this +/-15 year window? The invasion by the Spanish, 1519-1521.

Now, he tells Mizrak: "Long ago, when I was still human, I watched men wade ashore from ships..."

I think this is another case of how important dialogue is. Because if he was a boy at the time, this line would likely have been written as "Long ago, when I was just a boy..." or something like "One of my earliest memories is of..." instead. "Still human" implies not only was he a human, but that he had been human for quite some time already. That the events he's describing fall in the stretch of time leading up to "still human" no longer being true.

tl;dr: the Spanish arrival and him becoming a vampire happened within a few years of each other, and if turned vampires stop aging, then he would have had to have been an adult at the time.

3. Olrox Became A Vampire Willingly

I assume that vampirism is something that was introduced to the Mexica by the Spanish in the same way it was introduced to Haiti by the French, in Annette's case.

However, rather than vampires creating spawn left and right, the persistent lore (in the show at least) is that to be turned is to be accepted into the sort of elite in-group of vampire society. (Carmilla questioning why Lisa was never turned, the Count never turning slaves, etc). Vampires feed on humans, they don't view them as potential spawn to have in thrall or whatever.

The Spanish weren't going around giving natives The Bite, because vampirism is power. So what I think, is that Olrox recognized that power, and decided to take it for himself. Rather than being the passive 'recipient' of the 'gift' of vampirism, he pried it from some Spanish vampire's cold, undead hands. (i.e., he drank their blood)

Do I have any proof of this? No. It's just what the worms in my brain are telling me 🤷 But!!

Do I think it would be a sexy little inversion of the way Erzsebet drank a god's blood to obtain her power? Yes.

Do I think it would be thematically very appropriate for a morally grey character who seems to have a very... Interesting relationship with power (individual power vs institutional powers, the subverting of power, the weaponization of symbols of power, etc)?? Oh absolutely fuck yes!!1!

[sickos.jpg]

4. Olrox Was a Priest, But Not Like That.

Priesthood in the Mexica empire was largely dominated by the nobility, whose children would be sent to the calmecec to learn how to read and write, speak the noble dialect, perform rituals, etc. But if the circumstances were right, the children of commoners could also get in!

Olrox says he's never been much of a believer, but he's highly intelligent and incredibly good at reading people. Even if he was never a man of faith, the priesthood was still a powerful institution where one could climb the ranks and earn influence over the nobility. No doubt someone as sharp and charismatic as Olrox would be able to take advantage of the opportunity to get a good education and maybe try to undermine the system from within/play a bit of political games while he was at it.

Also... Olrox's weapon of choice is the dagger. Obviously a dagger is an appropriate weapon for a character who's kind of rogue-ish, but also consider: Aztec warriors used a lot of weapons in combat: clubs, spears, arrows, axes—but an obsidian dagger? That's something that would have been used by a priest during rituals.

5. Olrox is a Bitch™ Who Knows Just What to Say to Get Under People's Skin

A common myth is that the Mexica welcomed Cortés at first because they thought he was Quetzalcoatl. But this is a misreading of the way Mexica social conventions/the noble dialect worked, which was kinda ~passive aggressive in a way, such that the more loftily and overly politely you spoke with someone, the more you were actually telling them to go eat shit and die. I think Olrox's dialogue demonstrates this beautifully in the scene where he meets Erzsebet:

"Taker of Souls, Vampire Lioness, She Who Mauls, The Messiah of--" / "Yes, charmed to meet you 😒"

"Her magnificence has heard much about you." / "Flattered. For a god to have heard of me. 🥱"

"I am a goddess!" / "...Of course 🙂"

His words are receptive, respectful, docile, even... but his tone and delivery are completely the opposite. Compare this with the way he speaks with Richter and (in later interactions) Mizrak—which is more informal, open, confrontational. He's more direct with them because he actually respects them.

As far as reading and getting under people's skin with pinpoint precision, I present the following interactions:

When he catches the marquis' severed head in the catacombs, he reads him (and potentially also Drolta) like a book: "This one? He was just an opportunist, following the messiah because she's powerful. But there are those who love her [looks to Drolta]. So I'm told."

When Drolta gives him a verbal slap on the wrist for feeding on the wealthy, he says "mY Ap0LoGiEs, I didn't realize how invested you are in keeping the mortals happy." - To which Drolta goes on to grumble about how their alliance with some of the mortals disgusts her.

When Erzsebet is waxing poetic about how everyone will see her beauty and worship her, he has the balls to—without missing a beat—say "PaRd0n mEe, but you mean to do this through an alliance with a man who will never worship you? 🫢" right to her fcuuckin face mgod I love him so much (this is the point where she whips out the big guns and yells "I am a goddess!!" while threateningly flashing her orb of darkness btw. Like she did NOT like that)

6. Olrox Has an 'Eye for an Eye' View of Justice

A prevalent theme in Aztec religion is the idea that like... ain't nothin' in this world for free. Sacrifices to the gods weren't symbolic gestures of devotion, but an act of paying the gods back for providing humanity with the means to survive.

The idea that everything has a price pervades the dialogue he has with Mizrak in the morning-after scene:

"What was the cost? Who pays it? Just him? Or all of you? Will you? Which demon will claim his price when all this is done?"

And it's also present in the very first scene where we are introduced to Olrox:

"You see, your mama took someone from me I loved, just as much as you loved her. So, she had to die."

What's interesting about this scene is also how... calm he is the whole time—before the fight, after the fight. Yes, he's motivated by the murder of the man he loved, but he brings zero of that passion to this confrontation. It's just an execution, something inevitable that must be done.

That he's fine with confronting a terrified Richter immediately afterwards to explain what just happened (and is completely unapologetic about it) is also telling. It suggests that Olrox views this kind of thing as just 'the way of the world'—a hard truth that Richter will be better off for having learned sooner rather than later.

I think this also helps explain why, years later, Olrox seems to treat Richter with a little more.... Familiarity than we might consider appropriate. He approaches Richter in the catacombs like he's just an old acquaintance, as though Richter should have no reason to be terrified of him. When Drolta mentions the incident later, he seems kind of lightly amused by it. Then, when he drops off the book, he's visibly/audibly frustrated that Richter starts gearing up for a fight. To Olrox, the whole "killed your mom" thing is water under the bridge, nothing personal.

7. Olrox is a Vampire of Prominence in The New World

Obviously, he has to be kind of a big deal to give a Belmont a run for their money. But let's go deeper into the IMPLICATIONS!!

"In 250 years, do you know how many vampire hunters have promised to slice me in two?"

"Her magnificence has heard much about you."

"You will be her guide into America."

He's enough of a big deal that countless hunters have promised to kill him. Enough of a big deal that Erzsebet has not only heard of him, but sees him as a valuable ally who knows enough about America to guide her as she builds her empire across it.

Olrox wasn't just a powerful vampire who got entangled with the politics of colonial Massachusetts and happened to cross paths with a Belmont. He's presumably had a hand in matters across the continent. Erzsebet refers to the colonists as "American upstarts" but for her, this is a conflict between humans vs vampires. The American colonists aren't allies or even rivals to her—because they're not vampires. They're just more pesky humans to be dealt with. (Also??? 'Protestant Vampires' as a concept is just hilarious to me, I'm so sorry)

So.

What the worms in my brain are telling me is—And this is Big!! This is a Steaming Hot Take!!!

(...seriously, tin foil hat tier headcanon incoming)

Olrox has established a network of indigenous vampires who are resisting the colonial threat. He's been turning them (or at least select individuals who are into it), and thereby redistributing the power he took from the Spanish colonizers to wield against the British colonizers.

(Look I have 0.01% faith in this actually being canon or anything. I just think it would be cool as fuck.)

Anyway.

Thanks for coming 2 my Ted talk or whatever. 😘

#Olrox #castlevania #castlevania nocturne

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alessiamalfoyzabini · 3 months

Text

Dark Moon | Chapter Three

Pairing | yandere!Jimin x Reader

Word Count | 2,6k

Warnings | +18, Coarse and explicit language, sexual insinuations, humiliation, prostitution, angst, smut noncon, non-consensual touch, forced blowjob (Jimin is not the one forcing her), Jimin is driven by hatred, this is not for minors!

This fanfiction is yandere, if you don't like the genre, don't read and if you are not of age, don't read.

I don't want to hear any complaints in the comments, thank you.

This does not reflect my way of thinking or living at all, it is just a work of fiction, it is like watching a horror movie, many of us love horror movies, but we would never dream of what we see in those movies happening in reality as well.

Simply put, this story was written for entertainment purposes, it should not be seen as a reflection of my values, opinions or morals. I absolutely do not condone such acts.

⤷ Summary | She just wanted to escape her past, take charge of her life and break out of her steel cage, praying in God for a miracle that could change her life for good.

And her prayers were heard, but it was not the Divine that answered her.

That was certainly the devil in the guise of an angel, she thought as those corrupted and empty eyes searched her soul with extreme voracity.

He turned a sweet, false smile on her, before pushing her into the abyss.

➢ Author's Note | The third chapter of Dark Moon has arrived! There will be more and more explicit details in the story that are not suitable for minors, remember this is a yandere story!

Taglist: @katherine-kookie, @dragons-flare, @m00njinnie, @seokjins-luigi, @pjmsneverland, @jimincrystal , @ajkwww, @ungodlyjoon, @hecateslittlewitchling

Taglist is open!

Chapter List - Previous - Next

That day the girl finished arranging her new clothes in the closet, she thought back to Ester, now she understood that such an asshole attitude, even if she still did not share it. She had recently arrived and had in no way tried to attract that bastard's attention, if that woman had lost her place as "favorite" it was certainly not her fault. And if she had to be honest, she found Ester to have horrible taste in men, how could anyone want to belong to that beast? She recalled Jimin's mocking eyes with disgust and thought back to his fingers mercilessly rummaging through her intimacy, a shiver shook her. No, that guy would never even lay a finger on her again, she would rather fight to the death.

Far more different thoughts crossed Jimin's mind. He had not thought twice about dumping her in his personal room at the Dark Moon, sending Ester away unceremoniously. He had found the hatred in Y/N's eyes delightful when he had played with her a bit and Ester on the other hand was now an old toy for him. "Is the newcomer already to your liking?" Jimin turned to Jin, they were all gathered at the big table of a high-class restaurant and one hundred percent sure, no one would ever know about their dinner there, the manager was a close friend of Seokjin's. "Actually, I haven't tried it yet," he stretched lazily, crossing his legs, "But it looks interesting." "What about Ester?" asked Taehyung, intrigued, at which Jimin rolled his eyes. "It's not for me anymore, you know how I am, I get tired easily," he replied with a grimace, his friend laughed. "So you won't be offended if I have a ride with her," said a voice ahead, Yoongi was grinning felinely, Jimin raised an eyebrow.

"You've always had a chance to take a ride, even more than one, I remind you that she kept opening her legs for many other men as well," he said sarcastically, Yoongi moved his hand as if to chase away an annoying insect. "You are my friend, I could never touch your stuff without permission." "But last time I found you with your cock in Mirin's throat, or am I mistaken?" asked Taehyung with annoyance, a roar of laughter erupted, Yoongi did not deny it. "Man, it's not my fault that your favorite is among the horniest in the Dark Moon." Taehyung's face at first irritated, relaxed into a wry smile, "Indeed, I chose her for that." Hoseok briefly spat the wine he was sipping onto the table, even Namjoon shook his head with amusement. Seokjin, unlike them, did not take his eyes off Jimin. "And will you allow me to take a ride on your new prey as well?" Jin's question left him unprepared for a few moments, was he okay with it? He wondered, and a strange discomfort in his chest intensified as he reflected on those words. Everyone stared at him waiting for an answer, but the boy was unimpressed, his firm expression unchanged. "She's still one of your girls, Jin," he smiled, "Who am I to forbid you?" The chatter at the table resumed, everyone went back to his own business, and Jimin's smile faded little by little as he continued to think about those words over and over again.

Hanon entered her room without bothering to knock, found her in front of the mirror ready for that night. Y/N had been forced to wear an evening gown with a light fabric, the deep blue color would have suited her, if the dress itself had not had a neckline so deep that it reached her navel. She felt naked, dirty, and the falling straps on her arms did not help the discomfort the girl was feeling. "Oh! You're ready, I thought I'd have a harder time convincing you," she said cheerfully, Y/N lowered her gaze mortified, she still cared too much about her life to risk a deadly ride in the Han River and this demolished her more, another woman with more pride and self-love would have gotten herself killed, she was just a coward. "But..." Hanon squared her with a critical eye, "Something is missing." She joined her in front of the mirror and retrieved from the bag of expensive makeup she had been provided with a lipstick, and not just any lipstick, it was red as sin. "You have to put this on" Hanon chirped not giving her time to retort, she took care of it herself to pass it over lips of the younger girl, "Well, you know...clients like it when you make a mess" Y/N immediately flinched, what little she had managed to swallow at lunch was coming back down her throat.

"How can you talk so easily about such a thing?" she hissed, disgusted by the older woman who seemed more than willing to make her irresistible to those pigs. It was as if she was more than willingly selling her out; she could not bear it. Hanon huffed, closing her lipstick quietly; after all, she had managed to put it on anyway. "I'm sorry, sometimes I forget you're new, I've opened my legs so many times - and not just those - that I consider this to be normal," she pointed around the room, most likely referring to the Dark Moon in general. "I don't want this to become normal for me," Y/N shook her head nervously, but Hanon was unimpressed. "If you want it to become bearable, you're going to have to make it normal, and I don't want to come across as the bitch who has no heart and doesn't understand you, but believe me... I'm the only one right now who wants what's good for you, the others can't stand newbies, and you're not Ester's favorite person right now, maybe you never will be for obvious reasons, so just accept it," she explained harshly, before giving her a key, "Room 508, you will wait there for your first customer and smile, asking him what he wants to start with or if he would like to relax with some soju first."

Y/N sent down a knot in her throat, nodding. "What are the clients like?" she asked, unable to imagine what kind of men she would have to serve with her body. "They are ... clients, there are many kinds with very different positions, the most dangerous ones however are left to us mature, you don't really have to worry about that." After that Hanon escorted her to the room, letting her open it because, as she had said, she had to learn how to best juggle in there without the presence of the older woman. The room in question was average, so it did not have to be a high-ranking client, just wealthy enough, Hanon left her alone and she took to inspecting the room, ran a palm over the soft blankets and with a shuddering sigh lay down on top of them, she had been told that she had to make herself ready on the bed because clients preferred it that way. She waited for the man to arrive, trying to relax the muscles in her face and body; it was true, she was no longer a virgin. But it had always happened in one bleak way, she petrified and afraid, until she had made the decision to take her sister with her and run away, even changing her last name. He wanted to give his sister a better future, and now she had ended up like her older sister, if not worse. She gritted her teeth in guilt, she would never forgive herself and it was only fair, she did not deserve peace.

Jimin arrived at the lobby at that moment, let a girl take off his coat without so much as a glance at her, adjusted his shirt collar, and headed for the elevator. There he met Namjoon, who was going in his exact direction. The man inside the Dark Moon dealt with more boring matters, such as taking customer reservations or arranging meetings with associates, plus he himself took care of the girls' most urgent needs. In a sense, he could be seen as a kind of janitor in there. "Hey, Jimin," he greeted him, Jimin reciprocated with a gesture of his head, "Have you seen your beauty? It's been three days and you haven't told me anything, should I be worried?" he joked, the dark-haired boy raised an eyebrow. "No, I haven't seen her, Seokjin sent me elsewhere," it was true, Jin had filled him full of commitments, but only because he himself had asked him to make him do something, he didn't want to see the girl, there was something that made him stay away from her, a feeling... something that told him that if he saw her one more time, the unthinkable would happen and that scared him, "Why should you worry, anyway?" Namjoon lifted his shoulders, "She has her first client tonight, I wouldn't want to have someone on my hands who doesn't know her business."

That news blocked Jimin from saying anything else, his jaw stiffened and his breathing quickened due to the constantly racing pulse. "Who would this client be?" he asked instead, feigned detachment. Namjoon thought hard about what to say to him, but opted for the truth; he could not lie to him. "Choi Minho, he was looking for entertainment with something new and I proposed her to him, it's just business, Jimin." Namjoon saw Jimin snort through his nose, amused. He didn't like that reaction; when Jimin found something funny - and there was absolutely nothing to laugh at - it meant he was up to something. "Jimin..." he said in a serious tone. "The room number, Namjoon." "Seokjin needs him, he got engaged to a minister's daughter, such a connection is not to be missed, and the waters are calming down." The tension inside the elevator was palpable. Jimin hated Minho. Didn't he wear all those piercings for pure aesthetics, every single piece of metal covered micro scars that still stung the boy, that piece of shit had gone unpunished and now he wanted to fuck with his prey? "Namjoon, look at me," he hissed, "I will not let him or another member of his family find pleasure in here, in my territory, among my comrades, he is polluting my air and I will not tolerate him," he said harshly. The silver-haired boy let a sigh escape, "Seokjin will not be pleased."

"I will talk to Seokjin, I have a few things to say to him on the subject." "... The room is 508, don't make me regret telling you." When the elevator doors opened with a gentle ding, Jimin darted out, moving confidently through the corridors of the brothel, leaving Namjoon to scowl to himself, realizing with a few seconds delay that he had screwed up big time. "Shit." On the other hand, several girls immediately distanced themselves from the young man; Jimin did not enjoy much popularity. If his appearance was that of an angel, his practices had been invented by the devil himself. He looked up counting the room numbers with manic attention, he didn't know what he would do once he got there either, he just knew he didn't want Minho in that place, in that room. With her. 510, 509... 508. Reaching in front of the door he tried to open it, finding it obviously locked. He mentally imprecated, this was not going to take. He would have to get tough sooner than expected, then. He gave the door a mighty kick, followed by a second and then a third, the latter breaking the lock with a dull bang that allowed him to enter. He could have simply asked for a copy of the key, but he did not want to waste further time.

He thus found Minho with the zipper of his pants open, but with his clothes still on, was towering over Y/N, the girl was lying on the bed and staring at him with a blank expression, as if she had surrendered to what was to come. The now-open dress gave a wide view of her naked breasts, as well as showcasing the obvious and fresh bite marks that were now purplish, a motion of disgust invaded Jimin's stomach. "What the fuck do you want, Park Jimin?" asked visibly irritated Minho, who until a few seconds earlier had the clear intention of playing a little with the girl's still untouched mouth. Minho had to admit, Namjoon had given him the gift of a nice treat, but Jimin's presence had never been required. "I don't want anything from you at all," he emphasized, pointing to Y/N who, like an automaton, was watching the pierced man in front of the door almost as if she had not seen him.

When Minho had entered the room she had as if immobilized, she had simply done his bidding, he had told her to open the neckline of her dress and she had done so, he had bitten and sucked her skin and she had not said a single word, she was a sad little doll, little doll who would have even sucked his cock if Jimin had not come in by smashing the door with unheard of tranquility.

"Forget it, I paid to spend an evening with her, wait your turn," growled Minho, who could already feel his cock drooping in his pants because of that bastard.

"We also do refunds, you know?" he asked, clearly ironic, before changing his expression altogether, "Get out of here, Choi. You're contaminating my territory, sullying what belongs to me." "And you get out of my way, Park. I will not leave without finishing." The two hurled lightning bolts and thunderbolts from their eyes, then something shone in Jimin's, something the girl could not quite define, standing there motionless and nervously awaiting orders, she gazed fearfully at Jimin's sharp smile, who shifted his eyes to hers. "Did you hear that, cupcake? Get to work, Mr. Choi wants to start with the mouth?" he addressed the last question to the person concerned, who was unimpressed. "I have no problem getting it out in front of you," he hissed, before finally lowering his pants along with his boxers, Y/N felt dead, she would eventually do it. For a moment she had hoped, she had hoped that this monster would save her from such humiliation, but no, if possible he had only made that situation worse, because he would watch her being used as a soulless sleeve. She refused to look toward that pig's loose erection, her eyes were still on Jimin, who in return did not take his gaze off her.

The tense jaw testified to Jimin's true discontent, who felt his blood boil with rage when Minho forcefully grabbed the young woman's hair, forcing her with a stern, violent move to take her full length, Y/N widened her eyes horrified, gasping for air. "Keep still, you little slut! Show your boss how you make me come." Minho used the girl's mouth with unprecedented force, heedless of her shrill cries, his only thought at that moment was to fuck her, proving to Jimin that he could do nothing against him, even on his own turf. Jimin felt the bestial urge to kill the bastard, but another idea took shape. Minho was about to come when he heard the sound of a trigger ringing in the room. The barrel of Jimin's glock was pointed at his side, just waiting for a slight pressure on the trigger to release the lead that would surely take him down.

#bts #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #jimin x reader #yandere bts #yandere jimin x reader #bts smut fanfiction #bts smut yandere #bts yandere smut #yandere jimin #jimin fanfic #bts smut #yandere bts x reader

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waitmyturtles · 7 months

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This post was making its way around last night, about how viewers could/should recognize when female characters in dramas are written by men, and how we as viewers can rejigger our minds around how we then see and interpret these female characters. I'm thinking of Cheum in Only Friends, and how she's been written by an all-male and all-queer team of writers.

Somewhat separately, I'm noting a reblog from my OF Sunday meta by @fromthedepthsandbeyond about how Thai audiences vs. international audiences are receiving Cheum. Holding myself accountable: in my original post that I just linked, I chunked up the deuces on Cheum (and I do still hope April dumps Cheum's ass).

But I gotta ponder what it means that an all-male team wrote Cheum. And as well, I gotta think about what it means for me to interpret a female character in a drama, generally speaking.

What are my implicit biases towards a female character to hold people around her accountable? To hold her brother accountable for making false rape claims against Boston? To hold herself accountable for calling Boston a slut and making judgements against his sexual predictions? To hold herself accountable for continuing to suggest to Mew that he date Top, because Top is top-tier?

What are my implicit biases that a female character in a drama would be written to transcend above the bullshit she is witnessing, to be a cipher of macro-level sensibility and to cut through everyone else's bullshit to speak on the truth of their shenanigans?

What are my implicit and/or explicit expectations that the older sister of a younger brother who lied about rape claims would hold that younger sibling accountable for his falsehoods?

I just wrote on a reblog from @ranchthoughts, as we head towards Saturday's finale, about my giving these characters the space and grace to be imperfect twentysomethings, and I think this ties into how I need to possibly adjust what in the heck is going on with Cheum. And I note that especially from @fromthedepthsandbeyond's thoughts on Thai vs. international interpretations of Cheum.

Could I generalize a Thai interpretation on Cheum as: Cheum is doing the best she can in what we assume to be a Thai/Asian society that still holds in expectation certain roles of peacekeeping that a female should uphold?

I might be able to safely make that assumption, with sensitivity to overgeneralization. (I've been thinking a lot about sexism in Asian families vis à vis my re-watch and re-rewatch of Bad Buddy lately -- and how Pat's traditional Thai-Chinese family upholds lingering notions of sexism towards Pat's younger sister, Pa.)

And could I generalize an international interpretation on Cheum as: we have made so much progress on women's equality, that Cheum should feel free to burn all these assholes down to ash for their inconsistencies and/or lies?

I think there's a tension there, in the interpretive lenses, that I'm playing around with, as I think about getting more open and accountable towards my biases of what I might expect out of a character like Cheum that was written by men.

I don't know, I'm feeling unsettled by this, because in a way, I want to know what Cheum, as a fictional storytelling device, was meant to achieve by way of her placement in the Only Friends story and script. She has extreme judgement against Boston, for instance, and.... I don't know where that judgement stems from, what it means.

Does it mean that guys (like Jojo and the OF team) assume that all women judge sex? I can't think that that's it, considering Jojo's past works, but... I don't know.

So, yeah. I'm struggling with this and pondering it. How do I relate to Cheum now that I'm thinking about her as written as a fictional narrative device by guys? Oof. I wonder if I should have recalibrated my expectations all along.

---

P.S. I think this also touches on a thought I had a few weeks ago about implicit biases towards lesbians -- that a lesbian couple like Mew's moms could be wiser, sharper, and more attuned to their son's implicit angst towards Top; when clearly, when they first met Top, they weren't, at all. I thought that was a brilliant spin by the OF team on biases that we may have about lesbian couples, and what that meant for commentary about the general aloofness of Asian parents in fiction.

#only friends the series #only friends #only friends meta #lookjun bhasidi #cheum x april #april x cheum #what does cheum mean as a female character that was written by men

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spicywhenspeaking · 3 months

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Star-Crossed Connection: chapter two

Nick Folio x Original Female Character

WC: 3k

masterpost

this is a complete work of fiction, some characters while based on real people are totally made up. :)

Seraphina Holloway is Hollywood’s new it girl. But, when an embarrassing viral video of her ex / costar publicly dumping her goes viral, she thinks she needs a quick fix to help maintain her image. When she’s set to appear at her new movies premier she scrambles to find a date to bring that will help take the white hot spotlight away from her public dumping and show that she’s still desirable to all. Enter Nick Folio, drummer of the metalcore band that’s taking over the scene, Bad Omens. He’s a sweet down to earth guy with a heart of gold and when a smokin hot movie star asks him to be her fake boyfriend for a week he agrees to help. But will the line between fake feelings and reals ones start to blur when Seraphina lets her true self show.

Taglist: @cookiesupplier @lma1986 @to-be-written @bngurngheart @jessicafg03 @knivesforapr0 @thatchickwiththecamera @somewhere-diamond @sorrowsofsilence @malerieee @dsireland86 @collapsedglasshouses @jilliemiw86 @samanthasgone -> tags are open !

A few days later I’m finalizing my festival outfits with my stylist. The photos the paparazzi took were splashed all over the tabloids and drama blogs the day after they found Folio and I were ambushed on our date.

My plan worked like a charm. Every article or blog post was gushing over me and my newfound love. It was almost too easy to sway the public perception. All it took was a few perfectly timed photos of a new hot guy shielding me from the onslaught of flashes and pestering questions from pathetic men who have nothing better to do than follow girls like me around day and night trying to get a million-dollar photo.

Looking into the 360 mirror I admire the beautiful black one-strapped ball gown my stylist picked out for the movie premiere. “It’s lovely, this was an amazing find, Lala. Did you find any cute stuff for skiing?” Lala smiles and pulls out another rack of clothes with several snowsuits in all different colors. I decide to try on the pink one and the all-white one.

“I’ll take both of these they’re so hot, so all that’s left is a few choices for the press junket and I’ll look through some of the options you brought for my date.” I move to look through the outfits she’s picked out for folio and choose a black Armani tux and full black snowsuit along with some jewelry that one of my brand deals has sent. “These are perfect, he is going to look so hot,” I say finishing up and choosing a few more accessories from the table. I grab several rings, necklaces and a few different bags. “So things are getting serious between you and this new guy?” Lala asks and I put on my sweetest lovesick smile, “Oh yeah, he’s great. The perfect guy for me. Nothing like the egomaniac actors I usually date. He’s so real.” I answer, fighting the internal ripple of shame that overwhelms me. Folio and I have been texting back and forth since our paparazzi fiasco and he really is a nice guy. I’m a massive asshole for using him like this but it’s just a week and then I can say something about how it was a mutual decision because both of our careers are so hectic.

Just then my phone pings with a new message

Nicky F 🏍️❤️‍🔥: TMZ is blowing up my phone about those pics, what should I say?

Seraphina 👑: you can tell them no comment. Or ignore it, it’s up to you! I’m sorry they’re bothering you, I figured they would just bombard me.

Nicky F 🏍️❤️‍🔥: No worries sweetheart, you can’t control the crazies that follow you around.

Damn, I fucking suck. I should just be honest with him. It’ll definitely make it easier if he’s in on my plan.

Well, I’ll explain it all on the plane when we leave in a couple of days and if he decides just to turn around and go back home I will totally understand. It’ll totally ruin my plan and I’ll look even more of a loser but I can’t just keep lying to him about everything.

I don’t have any plans for the rest of the day so I decide to head home and rot on my couch. While I’m rewatching Gossip Girl for the millionth time on my couch I get a surprising call from a certain motorcycle-driving drummer. I answer it and am surprised by the smile that spreads across my face at the idea of talking to him.

Hey Folio!

Hey sweetheart are you busy?

Um no, just watching TV what’s up?

Are you up for a ride up the coast to watch the sunset? I know a place.

That sounds great! I can be ready in 20. I’ll text you my address.

Okay, I’ll head over soon.

Okay! Bye!

Alright, looking forward to it sweetheart.

Thirty minutes later I hear the hum of a motorcycle from outside and get a text from Folio that he just pulled up. I run out of my front door wearing my black levis with a plain white tee under my cropped black hoodie. “Hey!” I call out over the sound of the motor. “Hey!” he responds quickly hopping off the bike to wrap his arms around me in a quick hug. “You ready to get out of here?” he asks and I nod enthusiastically “Yes, I’m excited!”

He climbs back over and I throw my leg over the side behind him and wrap my arms around his waist as he starts up the bike again. “Hold on tight sweetheart” he drawls out as he turns out of the driveway and down the road.

“I’m taking you to a spot near Malibu that’s beautiful at sunset,” he says over the sound of the roaring motor.

It takes over an hour to get to the beach, the sun is low but there are still maybe 10 minutes left before it’s fully set. We park and Folio grabs a blanket from a storage trunk on the side of his bike. We walk hand-in-hand to a spot with little foot traffic. He unfolds it, it’s thick, hand-woven, and dark red. It’s large and looks big enough for us to both sit comfortably off of the sand. He spreads it out on the ground so we can sit and watch the sun take its last moments before dipping below the horizon.

“So, Phi, can I call you Phi?” he asks softly as his gaze slides from the sunset to me. I nod softly as he continues, the orange light of the sun covering him in a warm glow. “so Phi, I want to help you with this whole festival thing, but can you give me some information about what I might expect? Will the paparazzi be around every corner? Or is that only when you give them a heads up where you’ll be?”

I try and fail to hide the embarrassment and shock that’s written all over my face. “What- what do you mean? Heads up? What do you even mean?- I” his unamused face is all it takes for me to drop the act. I had said to myself I wanted to be honest with him but I guess I didn’t anticipate getting caught. “I’m sorry,” I say with a sigh, “how did you know?”

He laughs softly and tosses a rock he found on the other side of the blanket towards the crashing waves. “I had a hunch, and a photographer friend of mine may have given me a heads up.” He arches a brow at me, waiting for my reply.

“I was going to tell you, I swear. I know that doesn’t mean anything now but-“ I look up as the sun finally disappears, leaving the sky a beautiful orange and pink. “I didn’t want to keep lying to you. I know we’re practically strangers and for some reason, you’ve agreed to help me with this absurd plan, but from now on I promise I will keep you informed on all of the things I can control” I turn to face him, prepared for him to either tell me the plan is off or by some miracle bless me with forgiveness.

“You know, we could’ve given them way more of a show if I had known” he laughs and the tension I was holding between my shoulders drops. “I don’t really understand your world or how it works but if you teach me I’m happy to play along,” he says and it feels so sincere, I almost wish this was real, but he’s right, he’s just playing along.

“I think I’ve just let this whole situation get to me too much, I mean look at me, asking some stranger to pretend to be my boyfriend because I’m too--well, it doesn’t matter. I just, all I’ve ever wanted was to act and my parents did everything to help me get to this point. I can’t help but think of how ashamed my dad would be to see me now”

Folio bumps lightly into my shoulder before throwing his arm around me and pulling me closer into his side. “Strangers? I don’t think so, but there’s definitely more I want to learn about you Phi. I don’t think he’d be ashamed at all.” He says as he rests his head on the top of mine while we watch the final colors of the day disappear and the darkness of night blanket the sky. “What are you doing tomorrow?”

“Just final packing for the trip, didn’t have much of anything planned,” I answer.

He takes a moment to think before he speaks again, “What if instead of flying to Colorado we rent a car and drive to Colorado together? It’s only a 14-hour drive. It will give us time to get to know each other better and since it’s a rental we can just fly home at the end of the week. What do you think?” He asks gaze still fixed on the horizon.

Humming in thought I consider his proposition. “You want to road trip to Colorado? I guess I could get a last-minute rental, we’d need to leave tomorrow though, you can be prepared for that?”

He huffs out a laugh, “Yeah, I can pack pretty fast.” I laugh as well at the absurdity of the way this is all turning out. But it sounds like it will be a fun adventure. We spend a bit longer on the beach making idle conversation. I was able to work out a rather quick rental agreement thanks to my brand deal with Hertz and I sent a quick text to my assistant that I would be traveling up a day early. She and my glam team are going to meet us at the resort. “Well, your spontaneity has worked out in our favor. I have the car teed up to be sent to my house at 7 am. I can pick you up after and we can head out.” He excitedly agrees to the plans and even offers to just meet at my house, as long as he can park his bike there while we are gone.

After Folio drops me off later that evening I rush around to pack a quick bag. Jules, my assistant, has already arranged for my clothes to be sent to my hotel room at the festival so I just need to pack a few essentials into my suitcase, my daily makeup and toiletries along with my loungewear and casual clothes. It’s already late and I’m exhausted by the time my head hits the pillow so sleep overtakes me quickly.

I’m awoken by the sound of my alarm going off at 6:30 am and I find myself feeling excited about the prospects of the day despite the early hour, especially after getting way less sleep than usual. No worries though, nothing a little coffee can’t fix. I throw on a comfortable outfit for a long car ride and begin making my first coffee of the day. Around 6:50 am I received the text that the car was here so I run out to accept the key and sign the final paperwork.

“Oh shit! You’re Seraphina Holloway! I’m a huge fan, your show on MTV was amazing! I can’t believe they canceled it!” the guy who dropped off the car said with a huge smile spread across his face. “Haha thank you! I loved being on that show it was such a fun time! I’m glad you liked it!” I reply. He leaves with a giddy smile and waves excitedly as he pulls away in the car that followed him in with the rental. I ended up with a black 2024 Chevy Tahoe and it looks so cool.

I am bringing out my bag to load into the trunk when I hear the rumble of Folio’s bike coming up the road as he turns the corner up my driveway I can’t help the goofy smile I give him, I almost feel self-conscious about how happy I am to see him until he whips his helmet off and is wearing a matching smile of his own. “Mornin’ Phi, how are ya feeling?” he asks while hanging his helmet off of the handles of his bike. He walks over to wraps his arms around me in a big hug. “Hey Nicky, I’m feeling great! I’m excited about the road trip. How are you?”

He sides my bag onto his shoulder and gestures for me to unlock the trunk. “I’m feeling great sweetheart. I’m excited as well! I hope you’re prepared for a killer playlist.”

“Oh you’re on! We will see who’s musical prowess puts who on top.” I jokingly tease. He laughs and puts the rest of his things in the car along with my bag.

I invite him inside while I finish locking up, I offer Folio a coffee and he accepts thankfully. “Oh my god yes please, my roommates drank the last of the creamer and I cannot drink black coffee.” I laugh as I make us two fresh vanilla iced lattes for the road.

Heading towards the car I offer to drive the first leg. Nicky tried to offer to drive the whole thing but I can’t allow that. Plus splitting it up will help it go by faster.

“Alright! Let’s hit the road, Nicky! Next stop Colorado baby!!!” I pump my fists in celebration and before I can feel the embarrassment of the action take over he’s pumping his fists as well “WooHoo! Hell yeah! Lets gooo!” he calls out and I can’t help the joyus laugh that takes over as we back out and talk off down the road. My phone is connected to the carplay so I have control over the first music rotation. “Alright, this is my time to shine. For your consideration.” I say before hitting shuffle on my road trip playlist.

It starts off with playing Panama by Van Halen. “oh shit! Starting it off strong with Van Halen. You are more than meets the eye Hollywood.”

I laugh with my whole body, “Not what you expected huh? My dad used to quiz me on car rides, I was raised on classic rock.”

jump back, what's that sound ?

Here she comes, full blast and top down.

Hot shoe, burnin' down the avenue.

Model citizen zero discipline

Don't you know she's coming home with me?

You'l lose her in the turn.

I'll get her!

“Panama, Panama Panama, Panama Ain't nothin' like it, her shiny machine. Got the feel for the wheel, keep the moving parts clean.” we sing along together.

When the song finishes and “Go Your Own Way” starts next. “So I found this list of questions to get to know each other better on the road,” Folio says. “So, starting off easy, what are your three favorite movies?”

“Oh crap, oh my god? Easy?? Okay….three favorite movies are Pride and Prejudice from 2005, Pacific Rim but NOT the sequel and oh god, um I’ll say Secret World of Arrietty, which is a Studio Ghibli. What about you?” I ask.

“Okay I love Pacific Rim so I trust you and will be watching the other that you mentioned. I like Star Wars Empire Strikes Back, Kill Bill, and the original Texas Chainsaw Massacre.”

“I love horror movies! And omg okay nerd of course you would say the name of the episode instead of just Star Wars.” I joke and he laughs. “alright alright, it’s an important distinction. Real fans know what’s up. Okay, next question, what is your favorite photo?”

I think for a moment about all the pictures I’ve ever taken and am hit with a beautiful memory, “there was a summer my family took a vacation to the Florida coast and my cousins and I started a sand castle competition. I built a huge three-story sand mansion. My dad helped me get the towers just right. My mom took a picture of us right as a tower fell,” I laugh softly, “my dad and I are laughing hysterically as it falls, I didn’t even care about winning I was just having fun with my dad.”

I turn my eyes off the road for a quick moment to look over at Nicky and he’s smiling thoughtfully. “That’s beautiful Phi, sounds like it was a great trip.”

“Oh god no, our hotel was infested with fleas, and my dad’s credit card got stolen on the second day, but those hours on the beach made it all worth it. Okay your turn, favorite picture.”

Folio opens his phone and scrolls through rows of photos until he finally lands on one, “this one is for sure on of my favorites.” I look quickly and it’s a photo of him and the other guys from his band all grouped together with huge grins on their faces, almost like they’re laughing. “It was after the first concert of our first tour, I was the happiest I had ever been and when I knew that I’d do anything to make this dream come true with those guys.”

“That’s amazing Nicky, and you guys did it! That’s amazing.”

We continue our game of a million questions for a few more hours of the drive while listening to music in the background. One question leads to more conversations and I feel like I’ve talked more genuinely about myself than I have in years. It’s so refreshing. At the halfway point we pull off in a small diner and eat a quick early dinner before Folio takes over for his leg of the drive.

The great music and conversation make the last hours of the trip fly by, before I know it we are passing the Colorado state line in the late evening and finally pull into the resort’s long drive way at nearly 3 am for our check-in. I take a deep breath, “okay, are you ready fake boyfriend?” I ask him and he gives a mock salute, “oh I’m ready girlfriend, it’s gonna be a good time.”

next chapter ->

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coffeewritesfiction · 1 month

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Welcome to Coffee Writes Fiction!

A Little About Me:

Hello! My name is Coffee, or Jason if you rather. I’m 32yo as of writing, he/him, living on the East Coast about 30 minutes from the ocean. I love cats, coffee and tea, roleplaying, horror games, researching whatever grabs my attention, vintage/nostalgia/kitsch, pretty photos, and a lot more.

This blog is both a place to dump my personal projects [both original and fanfiction] and a source of knowledge and inspiration for my followers! In addition to writing-related posts, you may see art, science, history, queer subjects, BIPOC topics, current events [within reason], poetry, inspirational quotes, really whatever seems like it would help or inspire someone, I’ll reblog here. There will also occasionally be reblogs from other tumblr users who need help, mostly financial. Hell, sometimes I even need help. It’s not easy being disabled in this era…

What I Write:

My fiction is dark, always has been. Most of my protagonists are trans men, because I write what I want to see. I apply content warnings where needed and I can think of them but please let me know if I miss something.

Here’s a list of my current WIPs

Farewell Vesperos: Book 1 of the gothic fantasy Runner Owen series. In a Victorian inspired world of eternal night, detective for hire Owen Rosedown must unravel the mystery of the destroyed Vesperos family and its missing heir before a killer strikes again. Series features ghosts, evil vampires, dangerous princes, and a gay villainous love triangle.

Hollywood’s Prince [working title]: Erotic Runner Owen standalone spinoff/au set in a fantasy 1950s Hollywood. While investigating a string of thefts, B-movie actor and amateur sleuth Owen discovers Hollywood’s favorite leading man, the tall dark and handsome Aurum, is a vampire. Concept still in development.

Lionheart: Concept under development but it's gonna be gay as hell. With unicorns that are tattooed punk assholes when human. And a 35+ year old protagonist.

Pharaoh Syndicate Investigations: my Cthulhu Mythos project! Features characters borrowed from my friends, with permission. Full summary tbd

Which Image: fanfiction for the super obscure retro-style horror/adventure video game series the Chzo Mythos. No familiarity needed. British gentleman thief turned supernatural government agent Trilby saves the life of a young American woman. It's just an average day for him. He has no idea everything in his life will be turned upside down within hours. Two stories out of ??? written.

[Some of] My Other Blogs:

@afterdarkwithcoffee : the 18+ original fiction and general adult content blog. No minors!

@runner-owen : a blog dedicated to my Runner Owen series and its spinoffs. Contains aesthetic images, reference material, and actual stuff I've written

Everywhere Else I Am:

Bluesky (trying to remember to use it)

Buttondown (ditto)

Tip Jar:

Kofi

Cashapp

Great to meet you! I hope you find something to enjoy here! ❤️

#writeblr #writeblr community #writeblr intro #intro post #from coffee #long post

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syds-house · 5 months

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would u believe ive had 5 ficitional men fixations since you last saw me & now ive gone full circle and found another 6'10 (allegedly) socially adversed fictional man to be my muse. but yea im back

unmasked könig hc & hc dump under the cut

and now for more hc:

born in austria, raised in germany?

raised by granparents. ik im not the 1st to say it but i gotta get that outta the way

was a mild-mannered, chubby kid. learnt early on his size couldnt afford him to be loud, reckless or hostile. so he grew meek & soft

age 10-12 was when said bullying started. mostly cruel jokes & a petty rumour, maybe a shove every now & then but rarely escalated beyond that. his peers always claim to never mean ill will. though they sneered at his sensitivity or say he derserved it somehow

so könig grew resentful. he initially took the high road & told himself "it says more about them than it does me" but it later festered into a vicious superiority complex. not that hed show it, its classier that way

but he let his anger best him 1 day & he let loose. things happened and more things happened following the incident. idk i havent solidified my hc könig lore yet

age 17, he volunteered in the military. came at the cost of a heated argument w/ his grandparents but he knew what he wanted

he wanted to be a recon sniper bc he liked the power it gave him. the fear of being taken out any second by an unseen enemy, fufilled his power fantasy & gave him the solitude he wanted. to be known as powerful but not perceived. but we know how that ended up

the job he ended up w/ wasnt all that bad. not ideal but it has its perks, like a close up of terror on his enemies faces. & its not like he wasnt used to a chaotic environment alrdy

könig wants the attention & admiration without being perceived. even if itll come at the cost of being feared. he knows hes proud but he cant drop it bc if he isnt great then hes just an anxious, bumbling & WEAK

he hates his anxiety. he brutes forces through it as hard as he brute forces his opponents. he shouldnt feel this way & he attacks it w/ every rational thought consistently. but it never works

im pretty sure he himself started the rumour of "whats under the hood is even scarier" lol

#i dont even play cod #im not immune to big shy men #könig #könig cod #könig mw2 #call of duty #könig fanart #fanart #artists on tumblr #digital art #sketch #doodle #babygirl

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miss-madness67 · 6 months

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Advent Calendar 2022: Day 5 (Dean)

Christmases with the love of your life, Dean Winchester.

25 days of Christmas and fluff.

Day 4

“You know I can pop in the second you tell me to, right?”

Going to college had never been your first choice. Independent of what other people might think, you like life as a hunter. Sure, it wrecked your family, driving your father to suicide and your mother to alcoholism, but you didn’t exactly blame hunting, more like the lack of balance they didn’t have. Thus, you decided that college was a good opportunity, especially since you had a full ride. What you didn’t count, however, was the loneliness you would feel on your first holidays away from your surrogate father, Bobby.

“I’m fine Bobby, you’re not about to drive across 4 states, and you know flights ain’t cheap.”

Bobby’s grumpy voice is sure nice to hear, “you idijt, driving isn’t a problem.”

“I told you, it’s fine, got lotta things to do here anyway.” Lies, of course, but you really don’t want him to leave the boys alone after John dumped them again this Christmas. “How are Dean and Sammy?”

The man grumbles something unintelligible that sounds like ‘breaking my balls’. “Here, Dean has been nagging to speak with you.”

There are some other noises on the other side of the line, and the next voice that greets you brings a smile to your face. “Hey, sugar.”

Day 6

Tags: @sweetwerewolfqueen @unabashed-lover-of-fictional-men @perpetualabsurdity @deanswaywardgirl @seppys-return-to-madness @desimarie12 @hobby27 @mrspeacem1nusone @fluff-lover @melannie77

#fanfiction #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester #spn #spn fanfic #dean winchester x reader #spn x reader #teen dean winchester #advent calendar #spn advent calendar #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester fic #dean winchester x y/n #supernatual christmas #christmas

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mactiir · 5 months

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14 for the end of year asks

14: favorite book you read this year?

Ok, there's this author named Sarah Waters. She is a lesbian author who writes extremely buckwild historical fiction plots, except she writes like Charles fucking Dickens and like 90% of her characters are exceedingly gay and in need of intensive long term therapy. Every time I pick up a Sarah Waters book I need to block off at least 20 hours because I no matter how I feel going in I know I'm gonna MARATHON that arcane motherfucker and then not be able to explain the plot at all because they are all fucking Insane. Describing a Waters plot makes me sound like I am describing a particularly vivid gay nightmare. Anyway, back in February I read "The Paying Guests", which is about a woman living with her mother after WWI, and they have to rent out the top floor of their house to lodgers to make ends meet cuz all their fuckin men died in the war. So she falls in love with the wife of the couple that moves in, and they end up having an affair, and the first half of the book is a very normal, if stressful, affair/lovestory/what if husband finds out?? plot. Then out of NOWHERE the wife fuckkn. brains her husband with an ashtray and he dies on the carpet and then the lesbians try to frame it on some random passerby by dumping his body in the street and it comes out HE was having an affair with his nail technician and the murder gets blamed on the nail tech's boyfriend and the lesbians are like "oh my god we're going to end this random boy's life by accident" because they didn't think the police would find a culprit for some fucking reason but they don't fess up and the entire last 300 pages are them having panic attacks in courtrooms and giving the Polite English Cold Shoulder to police detectives ("Very good inspectah, are we quite through?" while internally screaming) while their entire relationship falls apart over this little tiny dealbreaker of wifey bludgeoning her husband to death in cold blood and then telling no one while landlady/lover is left to deal with the fallout. I read it in 24 hours. It's 10/10 very good and I recommend Sarah Waters unconditionally.

#Sarah waters #The paying guests #fave books #booklr #Sarah waters spoilers #Spoilers

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honeybadgerdontcare394 · 4 months

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Info Dump on my boy Gilbert

YES I MAY HAVE NAMED MY HOGWARTS LEGACY MC AFTER GILBERT BLYTHE BUT HE'S HIS OWN PERSON OK???

Also I shamelessly copied @theladyofshalott1989's format, sorry bout it

Sorry if anything is incomplete. May add things as they come up. Feel free to ask questions, comments, concerns!

General Info:

Named after the GOAT, one of my favorite fictional men of all time, Gilbert Blythe from Anne of Green Gables. In my story, however,his first name comes from a combination of his mother’s father, Gilles, and his father’s name, Robert. It’s supposed to be pronounced the French way, but only his mother and her family do that.

Born October 25, 187(4?5?) in London

TECHNICALLY pure blood; his mother is magical and his father’s family is, however his father is a squib, so there’s a little bit of ambiguity as to whether he would count as pure blood to SOME people.

Father’s family disowned him for being a squib when he came of age, so he joined the British army as a medic. Eventually met Gilbert’s mother in France, they moved back to London to start his own medical practice and raise Gilbert.

Speaks fluent French thanks to his mother's side of the family.

Because of his ancient magic, he didn’t start showing any magical inclination till he was 14, so when he didn’t start at 7-9 like normal kids, his parents assumed he was a squib like his father.

His parents raised him as a muggle, because they did not want him feeling isolated from the magical community like his father did, or to feel like he was missing out on something amazing. They did not practice magic in the house (at least while Gilbert was awake), and he had no clue about any of it until his own magical awakening.

Attended a muggle Catholic school until 14. His family wasn’t particularly religious, but they did attend church regularly since they lived in the muggle community, and it was the done thing, so he still retains many of those values (though they might conflict with other aspects of his life e.g. his sexuality but we’ll get into that later).

Personality:

ENFJ - Myers Briggs Personality Type

Will tease his friends mercilessly, but can also handle them teasing him back without taking it personally. He just likes to laugh and make people laugh.

Would give you the shirt off his back if you needed it

Sometimes he takes on too much, finds it hard to say ‘no’ to someone who needs his help. As a result he can often be found running around the school/highlands doing favors for anyone he happened to come across, usually at the expense of his own personal needs.

Always knew he liked both boys and girls, something because of his upbringing he was always conflicted about. During those times, liking the same sex was obviously frowned upon/illegal in the muggle world, where Gilbert spent most of his time, so even when he finally realizes his feelings for Sebastian, there is a fair bit of hesitation from Gilbert to be truly open in public, even in the Wizarding community, at least at first. With the support of his friends though, he quickly overcomes this fear.

Physical Description:

Tall, athletically built, takes after his father in that way. Stays fit thanks to his father’s influence from a young age, and his early desire to follow his footsteps and become an army medic (before he developed magical abilities).

His dark brown hair he got from his dad, the curls from his mom.

He looks just like his dad, except he has his mother’s blue-gray eyes instead of his dad’s dark brown.

Freckles across his nose and cheeks, and one on his chin beneath his mouth you have to squint to see sometimes but it’s there (and his creator is obsessed with it lol)

Magic Reveal:

His magical abilities developed later in his childhood/teenage years, as was common for his fellow keepers who bloomed later as well.

One day at the muggle school he attended, he witnessed a close friend being bullied and defended him, getting into a fight with an older classmate. During the fight, when it appeared the bully had the upper hand, he -ancient magic throw style- managed to hit the bully with a chair from across the room.

This brought things to a halt immediately, and his parents were contacted by the school as well as the ministry, who detected the use of underage magic around muggles.

Almost immediately, his parents got in touch with Hogwarts, and they agreed to take him on as a fifth year, and the rest is history.

Likes:

Music - learned to play piano from an early age, attended the opera a lot with his family and developed a great appreciation for the arts. Joins the Hogwarts Choir sixth year when he has a little more free time.

Food - He is a huge foodie, and is always eating whenever he has the chance. Given that his parents raised him without magic for most of his early life, he learned to cook beside his mother from an early age and enjoys a variety of different foods, but his mothers traditional french meals will always be his favorite.

Magical Creatures - always an animal lover, he jumped at the chance to help Deek capture beasts to keep them safe from poachers in fifth year, and he continued caring for them and volunteering his time helping Professor Howin with Poppy for the remainder of his time at Hogwarts.

Crochet - learned from his mother. Loves to make hats and scarves for his friends.

Physical activity - Enjoys swimming in the lake at Hogwarts before it gets too cold. Also taught how to fence by his mother's family and regularly competes with his cousins when he visits.

Dislikes:

Spiders - not scared of them, per se, just doesn’t see a need for them on this earth. Will blast them any chance he gets.

The Dark Arts - never learned an Unforgivable, never saw the need to. Wasn’t fond of Sebastian’s idea to use the relic to help Anne, especially when he read about the ‘dark sacrifice’, but trusted him to know when to stop (lol) and convinced Ominis anyway. Sorely regrets this decision, feels guilty for how it all turned out and vows to never have anything to do with the dark arts again.

Interactions with Other Characters:

Fig - When his parents learned Gilbert actually had magical abilities, they contacted Hogwarts (and Beauxbatons, but his father insisted on Hogwarts), and the school agreed to bring him on as a fifth year, as long as Professor Fig could meet and prepare him as best as he could before the beginning of the school year. Professor Fig had a residence in London that he used in the summer, so he didn’t live too far away from Gilbert, and as a result they trained in Gilbert’s back garden (with permission from the ministry and some anti-muggle charms) nearly every day. Because of this, they developed a close mentor-student relationship, and Gilbert sees him as another father figure. Fig felt the same about him, and even left Gilbert a sizable inheritance as well as his home to have a safe place for his further research into his ancient magic abilities.

Natty - The first friend he made at Hogwarts (I did Charms class first, ok), and they related to each other given that she’d only started at Hogwarts the year before. She fed into his competitive nature, and he admired her dedication to ridding the community of Rookwood and Harlow, and he always fully supported her decisions to pursue them and provided backup because let’s be real Natty was in charge on those missions.

Poppy - Very close to Poppy, given that they are both ‘Puffs and spend a lot of time together in the common room. Things got a little awkward sixth year when it was revealed Poppy had a major crush on him, which he was not sure he reciprocated. They went on one date on Valentine’s day to Hogsmeade, but quickly realized they were better off friends, as he sees her more as the sister he never had. They remain close even after Hogwarts, working together at the ministry to put an end to the poaching of magical creatures.

Ominis - Despite their initial confrontation outside the Undercroft, the whole ordeal with Sebastian and the relic essentially forced them to rely on each other. Gilbert always felt guilty for manipulating Ominis in order to help Sebastian, and that guilt caused him to do anything he could to make it up to him. After fifth year, they spent a great deal more time together NOT worrying what the hell Sebastian was up to. They share a love of music and joined the Hogwarts choir together.

Sebastian - Oh boy, where to begin? Was always fascinated by Sebatian but didn’t quite understand why (besides the obvious, I mean). Fifth year was far too chaotic to worry about the reason, but he would always literally drop anything else he was doing when the letters from Sebastian arrived (even though toward the end he began to sort of dread them when the relic began to alter Sebastian’s personality, but he still rushed to help out regardless if only to make sure he didn’t get himself into too much trouble). They don't start exploring their feelings for each other for a while, but I don't want to spoil anything so that's all imma say here...

Amit - Gilbert feels bad for traumatizing Amit during their adventures in the mine, so now the only favors he asks of him are to help with his astronomy homework. They remain close, however, bonded by their adventure; Amit talks about it frequently, despite following it up with how he’d never do anything like that ever again.

Imelda - Really disliked Imelda in the beginning, found her to be horribly conceited, but toward the end of the trials, learned more about why she is the way she is, and grew to understand and like her a lot more, though he still hasn’t forgiven her little squib comment.

Garreth Weasley - Is always highly amused by Garreth’s antics, and is frequently his guinea pig for testing out new potions/concoctions. He usually always regrets this, yet he signs back up for it any time Garreth comes asking.

Everyone else - Enjoys flying around with Everett, finds Leander to be a bit stuffy, but generally a nice enough bloke, good friends with Adelaide Oakes and Samanta Dale.

#hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy fandom #hogwarts legacy mc #gilbert blythe #infodump

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auroralix · 5 months

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✩ fairly odd christmas - part 1 ✩

read parts two and three here!

pairing: chanlix. everything on this account is chanlix.

summary: single and lonely on christmas, felix makes an offhand wish to have someone to love. the man who appears in his kitchen the next morning to make that wish come true is the last thing he expects.

song: fictional ~ khloe rose

this section’s word count: 4.2k

warnings: uhhhhhhh i don’t think there are many ?? some vEry light swearing, felix is already lowkey thirsting for chan’s ass bc aren’t we all, this is so sappy lovey dovey i love them, mentions of getting murdered bc felix thinks chan is an intruder at first, felix also tries to use a pen as a weapon, why am i treating this like ao3 tags

small a/n: welcome to my first fruity series! i’m still in the process of writing and polishing this but i had to post it before it became too long after christmas lol. everything should be posted by new year’s (: also forever big thanks to @awooghan for the fic title ilysm and thank you to both her and @ujimoo for beta reading and giving input ilyb 🫶

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

Felix trudged into his apartment, closing the door behind himself and slumping against it. He got dumped again, and right before Christmas. It shouldn’t have surprised him but every time he hopes this time it might be the One. The one and only he couldn’t live without.

He made his way to the kitchen and opened the freezer, pulling out a tub of ice cream and a spoon. It wasn’t the most glamorous way to spend his night but he was past caring at this point.

After securing his ice cream, Felix crashed on the couch in his living room and turned on the tv. It was time to nurse his emotional wounds with any one of his favorite movies. He had a secret soft spot on his heart for sappier, more cliche movies; those normally seen as “girly.” He couldn’t help it, maybe it was the consequence of living with his sisters until he moved out after college.

Felix had always loved the idea of finding that one person who he loved more than anything else and that would love him back just as much. The books he read and movies he watched did nothing to help those notions; he was the notorious hopeless romantic in his friend group and had been since he was young.

It wasn’t his fault, he couldn’t help that the men in his books and movies were miles better than anyone he’d met in real life. He’d dated multiple people, men and women, and yet nobody ever compared to the people in his stories that lived day and night in his brain. It wasn’t that most of them were bad people (although he’d had his fair share of bad dates), it was just that none of them could give Felix half the amount of love he gave them.

When Felix loved someone, he jumped all in with both feet, not caring what may come. He knew he was being naïve about it, but he couldn’t help that either; it was just in his personality to love wholly and completely and to give as much of himself as he could to the other person. It led to him getting his heart stomped on more than once, like it had tonight.

He’d heard yet again that he was sweet and nice and everything else, but he just wasn’t what his date was looking for. Felix had nodded and smiled and taken it well, dragging himself out of the restaurant to walk home.

Of course it was just his luck that it started raining on his way. And of course it was his luck that he didn’t have anyone to be cliche in the rain with at that moment, under the bright city lights that were decked out in full Christmas decor. It was like the world loved to taunt him by dangling something he wanted desperately right in front of his face. So he had shuffled home through the cold, sludgy rain as quickly as he could, which was how he ended up where he was now.

Curled under a blanket and nursing a tub of melting ice cream while he dreamed about a love he’d probably never see. He just wanted someone that would love him as much as he loved them, was that too much to ask for?

Felix set the nearly empty ice cream tub on the coffee table in front of him and tucked his feet under himself, moving to lie on his side as he watched his movie. Before long, without him even realizing it, Felix was drifting off to sleep on the couch, sending a half asleep wish to the powers that be for a Christmas miracle– someone he could love unconditionally.

•••

Felix blinked his eyes open blearily, adjusting to the blinding sunlight streaming in through his curtains. He rolled onto his side, belatedly realizing he was in his bed, not on the couch as he had been when he fell asleep the night before.

He frowned a little to himself. He was sure he’d fallen asleep on the couch, but maybe he’d woken up long enough to drag himself into his room for the rest of the night.

He stretched his arms above his head and yawned before slowly hauling himself out of bed and trudging to clean up in the bathroom, not giving it a second thought.

When he was finished with his morning routine, Felix waddled out of his room and to the kitchen. He stilled just a second when he walked through the small living room, his mostly empty bucket of ice cream was gone. That made him pause, he knew he didn’t pick it up the night before. Maybe one of his friends randomly came over and threw it out, he rationalized to himself as he turned toward the kitchen.

His kitchen, that was currently occupied by another man that Felix didn’t know. Felix stopped right in his tracks at the sight of the intruder, heart rate immediately going through the roof.

“Who are you?!” he screeched at the man who looked up in surprise from whatever he was doing at the counter. Felix immediately started looking for something, anything to defend himself with.

The other man slowly put his hands up to show he meant no ill will. “I-I’m not here to hurt you, I promise.”

The kitchen knife in one of his hands gave Felix no confidence that what he said was true.

In another situation, Felix would be swooning at the sight and sound of the other man, but right now, he just wanted answers. He grabbed a nearby pen, his only weapon of defense against the mystery intruder and his kitchen knife.

“Who are you?! Why are you here?!” Felix asked again, his panic growing as he held the pen up, like it’d do anything against the impressive muscles on the other man.

“I’m not here to hurt you,” the other man started, lowering one hand to put the knife down as he spoke. “I- I was sent here, for… for you.”

Felix choked on a scoff as he shook his head. “You actually expect me to believe that? What the fuck do you want from me? Why are you here?!”

The other man blinked a couple times and looked like he was trying to think over the best way to answer Felix’s questions. “I-… I don’t know how to explain it. Um, y-you made a wish last night and brought me here. I’d never hurt you though, I promise.”

That stopped Felix dead in his defensive rampage. Yes, he had made a wish to the nonexistent Christmas fairies as he was falling asleep, but he didn’t expect anything to come from it. Much less it being answered with a random hot man deposited in his kitchen. He didn’t even know how it could’ve been answered.

Despite what the man in his kitchen said, Felix couldn’t and wouldn’t just trust whatever the he said. Not without substantial evidence of his claims or some very good persuading.

“How do I know I can trust you or- or that you won’t hurt me? You showed up in the middle of the night out of literally nowhere and- and started acting like you own the place! You’re- you’re just here! In my kitchen and eating my food!” Felix spit out, keeping his pen held high as he questioned the other man. “You haven’t even told me your name!”

“It’s, um, it’s Chan,” the man gulped nervously. “You’re going to think I’m crazy, but please, just hear me out. The reason I’m here is I’m a spirit of Christmas, here to answer your wish.”

Felix could do nothing but gawk at the man in disbelief. Surely he’d misheard? He must still be dreaming, there was no other explanation. It was just a dream that Felix’s lovesick brain had conjured up to make him feel worse when he woke up and saw it indeed wasn’t real.

“Y-You- you’re a what?” he sputtered, at a loss for all other words.

Chan just nodded his head slowly. “It’s true, I’m a spirit of Christmas. We go around this time of year spreading love and joy and sometimes we answer Christmas wishes. I- I heard your wish last night as you were falling asleep and I had to answer; I’d never heard such a sincere wish as yours.”

Felix took a shuddering breath. This man—Chan— had to be crazy. But, somehow he’d known about the wish half asleep Felix had sent into the ether the previous night. How had he known?

“If- if you’re a real Christmas spirit or whatever, then you must have some sort of powers, right?” he asked, deciding to put the whole thing to the test before he chose whether to listen to more of Chan’s story or call the police.

“I do, they’re not very powerful powers, but they get the job done, you know? I can show you if you’d like,” Chan said, giving Felix a hopeful little smile that brought out a pair of cute little dimples that definitely did nothing to Felix’s already racing pulse.

“Yes please. But nothing weird, okay?” Felix still did not loosen his grip on his pen. It may not do much if the other man tried to attack him, but he would go down swinging, if nothing else.

“I promise.” Chan gave him a quick wink before disappearing in a cloud of sparkles that looked like snow and reappeared in that same cloud of sparkles on the other side of the living room. He had stayed out of arm’s reach of Felix, which was appreciated.

“I can also fly, but it’s kind of impractical when nobody else on this planet can,” Chan mentioned like it was no big deal as his feet slowly lifted off the ground before he floated in Felix’s general direction, still staying out of his personal space bubble.

Felix couldn’t believe his eyes, or ears as he watched the man across the room from him. He could barely wrap his head around all that happened the past fifteen minutes.

“You- you’re- that was all true?” Felix was not having a good day with his words; although who could blame him? It’s not everyday he gets visited by beautiful Christmas spirits promising to fix his loveless life.

“Everything I told you is completely true. I’m here to make your Christmas wishes come to life.” Chan set his feet back on the floor, still a respectable amount of space away, a bright smile gracing his features once again.

Felix let out a small, disbelieving laugh and shook his head as he thought everything over. Either he was really going crazy, or there truly was a Christmas fairy in his living room offering to give him the best Christmas season he’d ever had. The spirit seemed to have no ill will and was admittedly one of the hottest people—beings?— Felix had ever seen.

With a shrug he decided that if this spirit was really out here to murder him, he would let him. At least he’d get murdered by a beautiful creature that, before now, were only thought to have existed in fiction. Felix would have a great death, but he really hoped it wouldn’t come to that.

Since there weren’t many downsides in his eyes, Felix thought it’d be fine to see where things went from here.

“Okay,” he said, releasing a deep breath. “As long as you don’t try and kill me, you can… grant my wish? How does that work?”

Chan chuckled, shrugging his broad shoulders just slightly. “Mostly, I’m here so you have someone to be with over Christmas. We’ll go on dates, you can take me to meet your friends, and I’ll take care of you the best I can this season.”

Felix considered the other’s words. It sounded too good to be true, but the hopeless romantic in him was screaming to give this a chance and see what would happen. He only had one question before he gave in completely.

“What do you get out of it?”

“For us spirits, trying to spread joy and happiness and granting wishes like this isn’t just what we do, it’s who we are. If your wish hadn’t called out to me as strongly as it did, I’d probably still be floating around, granting minor wishes to others without them even knowing it,” the spirit explained, a look of pure sincerity on his face as he spoke. “It’s something we do not for what we can get out of it, but for what we can give to others.”

If that didn’t sound like music to Felix’s ears. This wasn’t just some little thing, this was exactly what he wished for, dropped right in his lap. And Felix was a weak, weak man, especially when it came to other pretty men who offered to grant his wishes and take him on dates and be the perfect Christmas boyfriend.

“Okay,” he said again, “I guess let’s see where this goes.”

“You won’t be disappointed, Felix, I promise.” And there Chan was, smiling like it was his wish getting granted, not the other way around. His dimples were on full display, cheeks pushing his eyes into crescents, and right that moment, Felix knew he was already in deep trouble.

He blinked a couple times and forced his still racing heart to calm down a little lest it give out on him. Felix had more questions but before he could get one out, his stomach gave a loud growl, reminding him that it was time to eat. He laughed sheepishly and looked over at where Chan was still standing, looking none the wiser to the loud grumble that came from Felix’s stomach.

“What, um, what were you doing in the kitchen?” Felix asked as he meandered toward the kitchen. He’d finally put his makeshift pen weapon down and shook out his cramping fingers as he walked.

At his question, Chan perked up and hurried back to the kitchen to show Felix what he’d been working on.

“I- I knew me just… appearing like I did might have freaked you out, which it did, oops? But, I thought maybe making you food might help you calm down, so- so I was trying to make you pancakes,” Chan said with a tiny, sheepish smile crossing his face. “I didn’t really know what you liked, so I tried to find a bunch of different toppings.”

Felix hated to admit it but he couldn’t deny how his heart melted just a little at the gesture and hopeful expression on the other’s face. As he looked at the bowls of cut up fruit and chocolate chips scattered around a big batter bowl, he felt more and more sure that he’d made the right decision. This pancake-making spirit meant him no harm.

“Oh, Chan, this- this is actually really sweet.” Felix picked up a couple chips from one bowl and popped them into his mouth before adding, “Pancakes are always a nice touch, a surefire way to win over anyone who’s house you break into.”

At that, Chan’s eyes widened in concern, making him look more like a wounded puppy than a powerful being that could fly and teleport at will. Felix cringed internally, maybe 10 minutes into their—relationship? Was it a relationship? Could Felix call it that yet? He wasn’t sure— but maybe 10 minutes into their… thing was too early to break out the sarcasm.

“I’m sorry!” He hurried to correct himself, “That was a joke, a really bad one for right now. The pancakes are a really nice touch, end of sentence.”

“Do you mean it? I can just clean up if you don’t want any.” Chan still looked unsure and Felix felt like the worst person ever for making him feel bad.

“I promise,” Felix attempted to console the other. “I love pancakes and sweet things, you can ask any of my friends when you meet them.”

“If you’re sure then, I’ll start cooking them for you.” And just like that, the clouds lifted from Chan’s expression and he went back to his previously smiley self.

Chan promptly set back about his previous pancake mission focused, with one goal in mind. When Felix offered to help, Chan simply gave him disarmingly sweet smile and waved him off, stating he wanted to learn the kitchen for himself. It was no trouble really, and he was happy to do it, he wanted to do it, he reassured Felix and shooed him over to the living room to find a movie for them both to watch while they ate.

Felix wasn’t sure how he felt at first about being (albeit nicely) pushed out of his own kitchen. Although once he started smelling the delightful scent of fresh pancakes wafting his way, he decided he didn’t care quite as much. Plus, it wasn’t like he could’ve made anything better on his own. Felix was a phenomenal baker, but all of his attempts to make anything other than baked goods in the kitchen were far less than stellar at best.

He flopped on his couch and started scrolling through the list of movies he had saved, trying to find anything that didn’t scream “I’m very lonely and available and live out those feelings through the movies I watch, please love me!” He didn’t like his odds.

But finally, he decided that if Chan was going to be with him, he should know all the weird, sappy parts of him. Chan was the one who wanted to answer his wish and cure his loneliness, it would only be right to truly let him know what he was getting himself into. So, Felix picked out one of his favorite sappy Christmas movies and waited for Chan to announce when the pancakes were ready.

Breakfast went smoothly and Chan didn’t say a word about the movie choice. As they ate, Felix’s confidence in his decision completely solidified; Chan’s pancakes were out of this world.

The rest of the day passed without many mishaps, Felix showed Chan the rest of his apartment even though Chan already knew his way around from carrying Felix to bed the night before. Felix tidied up around the apartment and Chan insisted on helping even when he was told he didn’t need to.

Felix didn’t quite know how to treat Chan just yet. They weren’t an item but also they already were. Chan was a guest but also he wasn’t. In addition, Felix didn’t know what he was going to do about extra clothes for Chan yet or if the spirit had any money or if making things appear was another one of his abilities.

Chan certainly couldn’t wear Felix’s clothes, as despite them being roughly the same height, Chan had far more bulked out muscles than Felix. While Felix’s muscles were lean, Chan’s were thicker, much like his ass, that Felix had definitely not spent half the day trying not to look at when the spirit walked by. Felix could spend the next day or so figuring everything out and take him shopping for more clothes either way. He also made a mental note to ask the spirit about what other hidden abilities he may have.

Throughout the day, Felix had also taken plenty of opportunities to look at his new roommate. He didn’t want to seem creepy and stare at Chan, so he’d just sneak peeks out of the corner of his eye or when the other would turn his back.

There was no denying the spirit was beautiful, he was practically Felix’s perfect type. They were about the same height, but Chan was much more broad and muscular, he looked like he could lift Felix right off the ground without much strain at all. Chan’s face didn’t seem to match his strong body completely with dark curly hair that fluffed around his head and warm brown eyes that crinkled around the edges when he smiled. And Felix couldn’t get started on those dimples; he’d always been weak for them and now was no exception.

Felix was grateful that the Christmas spirit that heard his wish was as pretty as Chan. He didn’t know if all the spirits were this pretty, yet he still felt lucky that his not only seemed too sweet to be real, but was also just as nice to look at.

Felix was happy to have someone around for the day and just enjoyed slowly getting used to having another person in the house with him. Chan was sweet and insisted on making dinner after Felix beat him to lunch-making earlier in the day. He was phenomenal in the kitchen as Felix was quickly discovering and who was Felix to deny his new beautiful roommate the pleasure of making wonderful food for them?

It was after dinner, as they were planning to go to sleep that Felix realized a big mistake in he’d made when he agreed to let Chan stay with him.

Felix only had one bed.

He only had a couple options that he could think of to solve this. Let Chan have his bed while he took the couch; he wasn’t about to make Chan sleep on the couch, he was still new and Felix felt like it’d just be mean to take the bed from him.

There was one other option but he didn’t know he felt about it yet. They could both share Felix’s bed, it was big enough to fit them both comfortably but Felix was unsure if he should even bring that up. He and Chan had just met earlier that day and he didn’t know if this was truly moving too fast. Granted, they both knew why Chan was there so Felix was more inclined to give into his a bit too rapidly growing feelings, but he didn’t know if this step was too quick even for their situation.

“You can take the bed, I’ll sleep on the couch,” Felix said, trying to stay nonchalant as he handed Chan extra toiletries to use.

“O-Oh, um, that’s okay,” Chan replied, looking the smallest bit disappointed by Felix’s words. “I can sleep on the couch.”

Felix shook his head quickly. “No, you- you shouldn’t have to do that, it’d be wrong of me to make you sleep there. It’s okay, I promise.”

Chan just nodded, giving Felix a tiny, unsure smile back, looking very much like he’d just been accused of doing something wrong.

“Have- have I done something wrong?” Chan’s voice was hesitant and timid as he spoke, afraid of upsetting the human he now lived with.

Felix paused in the middle of putting toothpaste of his toothbrush to give Chan a look. “Of course not, why would you think that?”

Chan shrugged, looking down and fiddling with the toothbrush he still held in his hands. “Just… I thought we could both stay in your bed. That’s- that’s what I came I here for, to keep you safe and give you company. I can’t do that with either of us on the couch.”

Oh.

Felix really hadn’t thought this through. He never would’ve imagined something like this could’ve hurt Chan so badly. The more he pondered, the more it made sense; this was what the spirit came to him for, so turning him down after spending the whole day together must have felt like a horrible rejection.

“Oh… I understand that, I didn’t mean to make you feel unwanted,” Felix started, giving Chan a genuine smile. “I just didn’t want to make you uncomfortable but I’m okay staying in the same bed if you are.”

At his words, Chan’s shoulders seemed to sag slightly in relief and his face lightened up immediately.

“Really? Are you sure?”

“I’m positive. Plus, I- I like cuddles before sleeping,” Felix chuckled shyly, trying desperately to ignore the way his face flushed the more he spoke.

Chan positively beamed, the confirmation he was doing a good job was all he needed to fully relax once again. “I’m glad I can help with that, then. I quite literally live for joy and feelings like these.”

Felix’s face heated up more and he quickly went back about his business of brushing his teeth. It had been less than a full day and already this spirit was wiggling his way deep into Felix’s heart. Not that he was complaining, it seemed like for once, Felix might actually have a love that lasts.

The two went about their business of getting ready for sleep and tucked themselves into bed. It was a little awkward at first as Felix was completely overthinking every little twitch and move he or Chan made. That was until Chan let out a sleepy sigh and turned onto his side, throwing an arm over Felix’s middle and pulling him flush against his chest.

“I could hear you overthinking, stop stressing so much and just let it happen,” came the sleep-riddled mumble from behind Felix.

Truly, Felix didn’t know how Chan expected him to relax and fall asleep after that move. He had a beautiful man right behind him, his breath warm against the back of Felix’s neck and Felix was sure he’d never been quite as aware of his own existence as he was in that moment.

Eventually, through soft little reassurances that it was alright and sleep was good and that he didn’t need to worry so much, Felix slowly succumbed to the exhaustion that had overtaken him. And if the comforting weight of Chan’s arm across his middle did anything to push him closer to sleep, Felix would never admit it aloud.

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read part two here!

#stray kids #bang chan #chanlix #felix #lee felix #christmas #christmas fairy #fluff #skz fluff #skz felix #skz bang chan #love #they’re in love your honor #i’m so soft for them #🫶#skz

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