#LET ALONE LIKE IT ENOUGH THAT THEY WANT ME TO JUST DO MY THING?? JUST DO WHTEVER I WANT??

[dante-mightdie]

This made me sick to think about so maybe you would like it. Sorry this is so long 😭 but my brain worms were at it.

Three months later, Pup reader eventually going into a catatonic state. You stop eating so the handlers eventually put you on an IV and a feeding tube, but when you stop moving, they worry your muscles may start to atrophy. You have already developed sores but still don’t move.

One of the handlers goes rogue and calls John. His number was still on your paperwork when he surrendered you. The handler asks John to reconsider without mentioning what’s happening. He stands firm and says no, just assuming that someone must have returned you back to the shelter. He knows you’ll find a home eventually, but he had enough to deal with at home.

Meanwhile, Simon, Johnny and Kyle are pissed. The new pup John had got was a handful to say the least. Three months of correcting the pup’s behavior over and over again. She was too rambunctious. Not docile like you and didn’t respect boundaries. Where your playful nips at Johnny’s arm would barely register, hers were sharp and painful. She constantly got in whatever bed she pleased and took whatever resources she wanted.

Kyle just relented he became so annoyed, only showing his teeth in warning. Johnny would straight up shoulder check the pup.

Things eventually come to a head when Simon straight up attacks her. He was having as PTSD episode and pup thought it would be a good time to jump on him while he was asleep.

The attack luckily didn’t injure her too badly, but after that she wasn’t submissive, she was aggressive. To everyone. The other pups and even John. Snapping and baring her teeth. It wasn’t until her teeth made contact with John did he realize something needed to be done.

So he called Laswell. She knew the pup needed a female presence and her and her wife were happy to help.

A month passes since the phone call from the shelter. The boys were even more tense than before the other pup left. None of them wanting to be around each other more than necessary. John knew what he had to do.

So he called the shelter, asking had you been adopted yet. An awkward pause before the volunteer on the other line says they need to get their supervisor.

Supervisor informs John that you stopped eating and moving. Because the volunteers could only do so much, they had to put you into a facility that could better help with the long term care you would need.

John is able to pull some strings and get in contact with the facility.

Option 1:

When John goes to the facility, you don’t snap out of it. You don’t believe he’s really came for you. Not when he puts the collar back on your neck or has practically carry you to the car. Not even when the boys surround you, sniffing and pawing.

John has to hand feed you. Even then the boys take over with that, now hating John for what he did to you.

You eventually “come back”, but the fear is always there. You don’t go outside without the boys and you’re always afraid to be alone with John. Forget car rides. The last time you were due for a check up, even having everyone in it did nothing to help your panic attack. Pleading not to go back to the shelter. That you’ll be good. John can hear your soft cries at night before one of the boys eventually crawls in your bed, promising to not let you go again.

Option 2 (I’ll make this short I promise)

The facility didn’t intervene when it came to you wanting to die. That was your choice and the resources couldn’t be wasted. So when John receives a very sincere apology from the facility coordinator that you had chosen to be on the euthanasia list, he is in consolable.

However, a vet tech sees how adorable you are and just can’t let that happen, so they call their cousin.

Zeus was looking for a new pup for oversized hounds to play with.

König all too happy to have a new playmate. He and Nikto often fought over who you would be sharing a bed with before finally just laying down with your in yours. In the middle of the night, Horangi would pull you out of the pile and take you to his own bed.

You eventually started to come back to life. The boys weren’t the same as your other ones, but it was still nice.

John tells the boys you had already been adopted, too afraid of what the truth would do to their dynamic. He has to forever live with the guilt of thinking you had died.

let’s go with option one

c/w: mentions of abandonment trauma, hybrids

there was a period of time where john lost hope that you would get better even after he bought you home. it certainly wasn’t going to stop him and the boys trying, however. john knew how much he’d fucked up when he heard the boys sad whines and yowls when he walked through the door with you

johnny instantly got to work making a nest in the space under the stairs. a cozy dim light hanging above a big pile of duvets and blankets, soft pillows that smell like them. john would give you space as the boys trap you in their arms, scenting over you and nuzzling into your skin until you smell like them again :(

they hold you when you cry, placing kisses to your shoulders and cheeks and the top of your head whisky you let all your sadness out. sometimes, you push them away. wailing that you don’t want them near you right now but eventually you let them back in to cuddle you. you feel weak but you’ve been so lonely and you’ve missed them terribly despite what they did

thinking about how the grief you had been dealing with had thrown your body right off track. not having a natural heat cycle until a good few months after returning home. you didn’t allow any of them in the room with you during that cycle, despite how kyle and johnny whined at the door, begging you to let them come in and take care of you

their whining didn’t last long when simon comes over and snaps at them, telling them to leave you alone whilst the sulk off with flattened ears

it had taken a while for you to warm up to john again. he understood completely. he had completely shattered your heart and trust in them. he wouldn’t put your collar back on until you were completely okay with it. he wanted you to ask. wants it to be something that you want

he begins to think you’ll never forgive him until one night you shuffled into his room nervously, fiddling with your hands in front of you, “can I sleep in here?”

he’d hoped you would at least sleep in his bed with him. let him snuggle you under his big plush duvet and scratch your scalp until you fall asleep but he understands. it’s baby steps. at least now you’ll actually be in the same room as him one on one

#mw2 #cod mw2 #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley #ghost x reader #john price x reader #captain john price #john price #captain john price x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #kyle garrick x reader #kyle gaz garrick #kyle garrick #john mactavish x reader #soap mactavish x reader #soap mactavish #pup!141 #owner!price

[barcaatthemoon]

turned on || alexia putellas x reader ||

a night out forces you and alexia to finally do something about your obvious attraction to one another.

alexia was awkward. you had known that long before you'd ever met the woman. the two of you were respective superstars for your countries, both the faces of your women's leagues. the news of the famed (y/n) (y/l/n) going from bayern to barcelona had shaken up the european football world. however, the events that would follow would do so once again, perhaps to a bigger magnitude.

you had been at bayern since their youth academy. there had never been another club for you, not even for a loan. however, when your contract with bayern ended, you had decided to look elsewhere. you loved the team, and the things that everybody was doing together, but you wanted a change.

barcelona had come knocking on your door the loudest. they were willing to shell out a lot of money, nearly three times as much as your old club. it wasn't just about the money, but you had to admit that it had a nice ring to it. there were things that you could do with this money that you felt would benefit your community much more than you just scoring a few goals during your games.

your first few months in spain had been difficult. you weren't exactly conversational in spanish, nor were you all that great with english. your teammates were patient with you, especially frido, ingrid, and caro. they were like your lifelines, none of them ever leaving you completely alone at training. unfortunately for you, they were all around enough to notice the way that you and alexia stared at each other.

"hmm, that's a very interesting shirt choice. it looks oddly familiar," frido teased as she grabbed the bottom hem of your shirt. you didn't give her little comment the decency of a response. yes, you had picked this outfit out because the last couple of times that you had worn it, alexia hadn't been able to take her eyes off of you.

"i think that our captain will like it. although, i'm not sure she'll appreciate the attention you'll get from it," ingrid said. you blushed a little as you turned away from them to finish getting ready. you had done your makeup a little bit edgier than normal. alexia seemed to like the darker look on you, at least that was what mapi had told you.

you checked over your outfit one more time before you followed your friends out of ingrid's room. mapi was flexing in the mirror, something that had both you and ingrid laughing at her. mapi ignored the two of you and continued, much to aitana's annoyace.

"let's go." frido wrangled everybody into her car, letting you have the passenger's seat. you were still getting used to things like the famous spanish affection and lack of personal space. befriending mapi through ingrid was a big help, but you were still even more awkward than caro in most situations.

at the club, you were immediately whisked away to the bar with pina, cata, and patri. they fed you shot after shot, which you enjoyed until alexia, irene, marta, and sandra pulled your group back from the bar. irene had been the one to grab you, but you didn't let that last for long. with some difficulty, you put yourself in alexia's grasp, allowing for pina to scurry off towards the dance floor.

"hi, oh wait, hola!" your accent was normally bad, but tonight, it was atrocious. alexia cracked a small smile at your accent. you returned it tenfold, absolutely beaming at her. "you are so beautiful. do you like my outfit? i wore it just for you."

"o-oh?" alexia questioned. her voice had cracked, something that you didn't miss, but chose to ignore. "you look very nice, but you shouldn't dress for other people. dress for you, i'd like any outfit you wore."

"that's not the point. i want you to take me home. i need to impress if you're gonna do that." you were slurring your words pretty badly, and alexia wondered how long you had been feeling like that. she wasn't going to get her answer though, not when you were whisked off towards the dance floor.

alexia didn't see you for nearly the entire night after that. you had been moving around enough to sober up quite a bit. alexia noticed that you didn't sway on your feet when you came over to where she was sitting. however, there was still just enough liquid courage for you to let alexia know that you wanted to dance with her.

"i think we should dance. you've been sitting here all night. even irene got up at least once." if it had been anybody else, alexia never would have even really considered moving. however, it was you, and unbeknownst to you, alexia had developed quite the soft spot for you.

at first, she told herself that she wanted to take care of you because you were younger than her and in a new country. however, much to alexia's annoyance, mapi pointed out several times that alexia's gazes towards you were never friendly. alexia thought that she was good at masking her feelings, but mapi was one of the few people in the world who could see right through her. it took a while, but alexia had finally admitted to herself, and an eerily excited mapi, her feelings for you.

"i'm not much of a dancer," alexia warned you. she had never been a good dancer, especially not sober. you weren't a professional or anything, but you were fairly decent in the scheme of things.

"it's fine, i'll take the lead." your words didn't exactly make alexia feel much better, but once the two of you were on the dance floor, she didn't do much thinking. you were just sober enough to know that this wasn't something that alexia normally would have agreed to so easily. you'd been around the team long enough to know that alexia rarely ever left the booth or table whenever the team went out.

"a-are you sure that this is okay?" alexia asked as you placed her hands on your waist. normally whenever you'd dance with the other girls, their hands were glued to your hips. it was a far less intimate hold, but your body craved a bit of intimacy, specifically from alexia.

"shh, don't think about it. just feel the music and move with me," you told her. it was fine for the first couple of songs, but then things slowed down dramatically. alexia's hands stayed right where you had placed them, but you weren't prepared to feel the press of her body against yours.

for someone who wasn't spanish, you were teased a lot for being touchy. it was always in good jest, and because of that, you often forgot how handsy your teammates could get. alexia was no exception, despite being the most reserved with her affections. you realized in that moment that alexia wasn't unaffectionate at all, she was just picky. tonight, it seemed that she had picked you.

"can i have one more dance?" alexia asked as she rested her chin against your shoulder. her face was partially buried in the side of your neck. alexia's breath tickled against your skin, something she couldn't have known would have you turning red in the face like it was. "please, i'm having fun with you. i don't want it to end just yet."

"i think i can handle one more." it was a total lie, but you didn't know it yet. the next song was more upbeat than the last, but alexia didn't move any further away from her. you could feel her hips press against your ass with each movement that she made. alexia was dancing with you like before, only closer now. it was reminscent of something that you hadn't experienced in quite some time.

alexia kept her hands around you even after the song had ended. the two of you made your way towards the booth, where several of your teammates were not sitting as well. alexia sat down first, and without hesitation, pulled you into her lap. they all quieted down at the sight of you, but neither you nor alexia missed the looks on their faces.

"problem?" alexia asked. her arm was snaked protectively around your waist, and as patri moved in closer, alexia's arm tightened. she had already been holding you tightly, but the addition of force managed to pull a squeak from you that unfortunately did not go unheard by anybody.

"the free show was nice, even if this isn't that kind of club," patri teased as she tapped on the tip of your nose. you swatted her hand away as you cursed at her in german. frido and ingrid's faces went red at your words, but they didn't let patri in on what you had said.

"what is that supposed to mean?" alexia asked.

"are you so oblivious that you don't see how turned on (y/n) is with her on your lap, capi? i mean, look at her. it's a shock that she's not squirming," cata pointed out. you grumbled as you tried to hide your hands. alexia looked at you questioningly, and when you refused to meet her gaze, she realized that there was a lot of truth to their words.

"you, uh… you… i'm sorry. i didn't mean to make you… i mean…" alexia stumbled through her words unlike anything you had ever seen before. the girls at the table laughed at her, which made a bit of anger flare up inside of you.

"hey, it's okay. you didn't know," you said sweetly. alexia bit her lip as you turned in her lap and cupped her cheeks. "i asked you to dance with me. besides this isn't anything that won't pass eventually."

"aren't you embarrassed?" alexia asked. she looked really guilty, and you wanted to kiss the pout off of her lip.

"it's fine, ale. if you really feel bad, you can buy me breakfast or something tomorrow morning," you told her. alexia looked confused for a moment before the cheering and hollering of your teammates clued her in. with that, she quickly stood up and walked you out of the club and away from them. you both knew alexia wouldn't just sleep with you, but you were surprised when she let you come over and stay the night with her anyway.

#woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso imagine #alexia putellas imagine #alexia putellas x reader

[daycourtofficial]

Ferocious beasts with soft bellies

Pairing: Eris x Rhys’s sister!reader | WC: 2.5k | warnings: mentions of pregnancy, some violence from dogs

Summary: Eris’s hounds know you’re pregnant before either of you do, driving the two of you wild with their newfound devotion to you.

Author’s note: hi everyone!!! Thanks for joining me this week, I hope you had a great time!! This one ends on a note I didn’t expect it to, but I do have plans to write follow-ups I kinda wanted to break this up into two. Also this is part of my gingerfucker series, but can be read as a standalone okay love ya bye 😘

Eris’s hounds were incredibly well-trained. He spent thousands of hours when they were pups instilling in them commands, tracking and hunting skills, and alerting him to intruders on the property.

At least, they used to be well-trained.

These days Clover, the leader of the pack, would not allow you out of her sight. All twelve hounds wandered through your house as they pleased, often keeping you company in Eris’s absence. They would lounge about, finding warm sunny spots throughout the house to take afternoon naps in. You’d usually have one or two lazily trail you around the house, staying in the beds you had placed in several of the rooms.

Lately their attachment and sudden devotion to you was getting out of hand. Clover was practically sewn into your side the way she followed you around - she hardly let you out of her sight, keeping an eye on you at all times, following you as you moved through the house. She was even beginning to ignore Eris’s commands, opting to stay at your feet, following you around the house, or with her head curled on your lap.

When you and Eris publicly began your mateship, you had begged him to allow the dogs into your shared bed. “Just one,” you had pouted, “I don’t like waking alone.”

Despite his grumbling, Eris had obliged your request. Things with your family were still quite rough - it had been almost a year by now since you left the Night Court, being unceremoniously abdicated from the throne. You had been in contact with most of your family by this point except for Rhysand, who was still refusing to speak with you since he forced you out of ‘his court’, as he had called it.

Despite your best efforts, Eris still felt guilty over it, the rift in your family caused by the discovery of your mateship. You usually tried to soothe him, not wanting him to feel guilt over the decisions you made. You would choose him over and over again, and problems with Rhysand or any member of your family were not going to stop that from continuing. Besides, his guilt would be better suited as ire towards Rhysand.

Sometimes you did use his guilt to get what you want.

Which is why it initially did take Clover much coaxing to jump into the bed at all, a notion she thought ridiculous at first, but once her paws melted into the mattress, she was quick to lay directly on your side of the bed, placing her head atop your pillow.

“Traitor,” Eris had muttered as you cuddled up to her, petting her soft head.

After getting her into the bed, Clover spent most nights curled up at your feet or by your side, your nights often spent squished between her long body and Eris’s. Soon enough, you were back to asking Eris for another one to sleep in your bed.

“So Clover doesn’t get lonely.”

He spent ages debating with you that no, she doesn’t need a companion in bed with her. It was ridiculous. The three of you were enough for one bed, and he hated to think of how a second hound would complicate things.

He didn’t want to admit it, but he did quite enjoy it when he’d throw an arm around you in the middle of the night and his fingers would meet Clover’s soft fur from the other side of you.

It also soothed some minor worry in him to have you protected from all sides, despite your being more than capable of defending yourself. The mating bond was a precious gift, but it was also a minor curse with the way it coursed through his veins, needing to protect you, to keep you safe, and to keep you both satiated.

“Er, our bed’s plenty big enough for more hounds.”

“Yes, but they’ll get too spoiled. You’ve already turned Clover rotten.”

“I have done no such thing,” you cross your arms, trying to look utterly appalled at his accusation. He gives you a pointed look, then turns his gaze behind you.

Your gaze turned to the hound seated behind you, her long limbs spread across your bed, her little leg kicks and soft snores bringing a small chuckle to your lips that you quickly turned into a scoff.

“That proves nothing.”

In the several months since allowing Clover and Cinnamon in your bed, they were still obedient. They left the bed without disturbing you in the mornings, they rotated who laid next to you and who slept at the foot of the bed, and they would never go to bed without either you or Eris prompting them to.

That all stopped a few weeks ago.

Eris’s hounds had always been fond of you - Eris had spoken of them for centuries before you were able to see any of them. The way he had spoken of them had helped you see he was capable of caring about something that wasn’t himself.

That was its own revelation.

Meeting the hounds was quite nerve-wracking for you - he told you they were quite cold to new fae, and they had detested Lucien’s overeagerness to befriend them - a grudge they still held many centuries later.

“I believe they smelled the desperation leaking from his pores, tainted their perception of him,” he quipped.

Despite Eris’ warnings, you were not prepared for them to warm up to you as much as they had. He brought out his most trusted hound, Clover, to meet you, and you’re not sure if it was the way Eris’ scent was forever entwined with your own, but she warmed to you immediately. She circled your legs before sitting directly next to you, placing her head beneath your hand.

“What does this mean?” you whisper to Eris, not wanting to scare her or set her off.

“She wants you to pet her.”

Your confused expression makes his eyes dance with amusement.

“Surely you understand that means to stroke her head.” He raises his hand in demonstration, petting the air with a bemused look on his face.

You huff, “she could bite me, I apologize for wanting to wait a moment before touching a creature you’ve told me is dangerous.”

“She is dangerous, but surely she’s capable of being more than one thing.”

Nowadays she was capable of such a feat - she was not only beloved by you, but she was also a constant thorn in your side.

It started with subtle things, conversations with Eris where you tried to express how odd they were behaving one night while you sat in Eris’ study, helping him sort through correspondence from his brothers about the lands they oversee.

“Clover followed me into the bathroom.”

“Perhaps I should put some cushions for her to lay down while you bathe. I’m fond of the sight, perhaps she is too.”

You roll your eyes, “I’m serious, Er. She’s behaving strangely.”

Eris set the letter from Moros down, his attention fixed on you. “You spoil her, she is merely being affectionate. You’ll get used to it.”

Eris was wrong, Clover’s behavior only getting worse as the days went on.

“Clover, stay.”

Clover’s brown eyes observed you, your finger pointing toward the floor indicating for her to stay, tone full of finality - a princess’s tone, a high lady’s tone. You were determined to get the hound to listen to you, commanding her to stay in your chambers.

You passed through the door, heading down to speak with one of your advisor’s who insisted he speak with you as soon as possible. You rolled your eyes just thinking about his current issue with one of the trade routes that flows into Spring and how last time he wanted to speak to you, you enjoyed watching the vein on his forehead throb at your reluctance to take his ill advice.

Perhaps during this meeting the vein will pop, at least then the meeting would come with entertainment.

You look down and are startled when you see Clover’s body in step with yours, her fur shimmering in the light as if she were smoke rising from the ground.

Cauldron boil me, Eris is going to kill me if I’ve ruined all of their training.

You stop, pointing in the opposite direction, whispering, “go, shoo Clover.” You don’t even want to consider how she got through the closed door.

Clover just sits in front of you, her gaze piercing, seeing something you can’t. You blow out a breath, hands running through your hair, “okay, you may come with me.”

You’d regret those words.

Clover strode into the room before you, sniffing the air as her nails clacked across the floor. Her focus shifted to the male in the room, Flint’s eyes narrowing at her. She moved her body closer to the floor as she stalked towards him, the hair along her spine raising into the shape of a fin. Her ears were pulled back, a low rumble emitting from her chest.

“Clover!”

Your voice is chastising, but Clover does not let her guard down as she slowly approaches Flint. His eyes are full of fear as she approaches, her feet circling him. He spins in a circle, not letting her eyes leave his.

“Clover!”

You whistle her stop command, but she ignores it. She circled Flint the way she circles mice and rabbits.

She always loved playing with her food.

“What is this? Control your hound.” Flint’s voice is annoyed as Clover raises her head, baring her teeth at him.

“I’m trying.”

You move forward, reaching to grab Clover’s neck, instead missing and falling forward towards Flint. His arms catch your forearms, but Clover was not a fan of his touch and her teeth swiftly sank into the leg of his trousers. Her grip was strong as she tugged at his pants, and he began stammering, shaking his leg trying to rid his pants of her. He backed away toward the door, and once he reached the threshold, Clover let go of her grip, almost causing the male to fall over.

Her growls echoed down the hall as she watched him run down the hall before scampering back towards you, confusion and shock on your face at all that just transpired.

The hound just licked your face gently before laying next to you, her head in your lap.

You sighed, certain that Eris would kill you for ruining Clover.

Later that night, Eris made hisbway to your shared chambers, a bit surprised to find you already asleep. The hour wasn’t too late, however he had caught you dozing while reading over some requests regarding equipment for some farms.

He stripped his clothes, the finery being replaced by some loose trousers before moving towards the bed to find that the hounds had placed themselves on either side of you, Cinnamon occupying his spot on the bed.

“Cinnamon, down.”

The brown hound does not listen to the command, the only response a long sigh of her breath. He stared at the hound - a seventy year old beast who was one of the easiest hounds he’d ever trained, knowing how he expected her to behave from an incredibly young age.

Cinnamon was no Clover, but she was second in their chain of command. Clover was on your other side, soft snores coming from her snout.

There was plenty of room in the bed for the two of you, the two hounds, and, truthfully, several more hounds. Your preference for larger beds from when you had your wings never left after you lost them.

Eris laid in the bed, determined he could outmaneuver his hounds. He moved a hand out to your face, stroking your hair before a soft growl cut him off.

His hand stilled, eyes wide at such a response from Cinnamon. His nostrils begin flaring, heat rising to the surface of his skin in anger. He could feel the roar of the bond in his ears, frustration boiling within him at the defiance and aggression at him touching his own mate.

He tried to swallow it down, refusing to erupt in his own bed while you slept peacefully next to him. His fuse was a short one, his temper always loosely held back by a quick tongue that allowed him to loosen the reins ever so slightly.

He watched them, their bodies curled around your own and thought about your complaints of them following you around, believing it to be a consequence of your softness towards them.

You were spoiling them rotten. You were a few weeks away from giving them table scraps, for Mother’s sake. But then his thoughts veered into Flint’s description of what occurred, Clover guarding you from Flint’s touch like a mother hen-

His heart stalls in his chest, a heavy realization settling over him as he sits up, Sierra growling softly at his abrupt movements.

You were pregnant. You had to be - it was the only logical conclusion other than all twelve of his hounds losing their minds simultaneously. They must be able to scent it on you before fae senses could pick them up.

He wonders briefly if Lucien’s magical eye could see it.

Eris lay frozen on the bed, his thoughts swirling with what to do, how he was going to handle this. He was still quite new to his tenure as high lord - the work wasn’t unexpected by any means, however his position was still quite vulnerable - new power always attracted violence attempting to see how far that power extended.

Things were still difficult in your personal lives - he and Lucien were on tenuous speaking terms, you and Rhysand were not on speaking terms. The two of you hadn’t spoken in almost a year.

It was all so damn complicated - you hadn’t had a coronation as high lady yet, wanting to wait until Rhysand would show up to have the ceremony. The logistics of a babe at such a crucial turning point politically could open Eris up to glaring vulnerabilities.

Long fingers tap at his chest, trying to keep himself somewhat grounded in reality. He had no confirmation for this - his reasoning behind such a theory were founded on the strange behavior of his hounds. He was being a ridiculous fool to get so worked up over unconfirmed theories.

Yet the image of a swaddled little thing kept gnawing at his mind - tiny toes, a tiny nose, tiny fingers wrapping around his. He had adored his brothers when they were much younger, when the world under Beron could be disguised as a good place. Perhaps he could do it.

Eris laid awake for several hours, your soft breathing calming him as he sat and thought about all the possible ways he could ruin all of this.

A tiny part of him let himself hope that, in spite of it all, he wouldn’t.

Permanent taglist: @vanilla-seabass @cyrygher @lees-chaotic-brain @topaz125 @chessebookgirl @fides25 @lady-of-tearshed @ashbatz @fxckmiup @lilah-asteria @justvibbinghere @daughterofthemoons-stuff @mybestfriendmademe @heartless-tate @tsunami-of-tears @idrkwhatthisisimsorry @olive-main @azrielsmate3 @pit-and-the-pen @durgenyx

Eris taglist: @secret-third-thing

Thanks for reading 💕

#gingerfucker #acotar fanfiction #eris vanserra x y/n #eris vanserra x you #eris vanserra fanfic #eris vanserra x reader #eris vanserra

[unstable-samurai]

Until You're Mine (Jealous Girlfriend) - smut

Momo x Male Reader

Word Count: 4k

Tags: toxic relationship, jealous girlfriend, non-linear story, possessive girlfriend, first sex, penetration, boobjob, facial

She was awake when he arrived. She heard the door latch turn twice as it was unlocked. There were always two turns, fast and firm. Y/N saw her lying on the couch, watching another animated movie. It was the kind of movie she looked for when she really needed to be distracted, her escape valve or something, so seeing her there in front of the TV close to midnight (it was much later than that, but he had no idea), turned on na emergency light in his mind.

Normally he was the owl of that house.

“Hey baby, why’re you still awake?” he asked. “I said you didn’t have to wait for me.”

“I just felt like watching a Studio Ghibli film. Only that.” She explained without looking at him.

No fucking way it was just that. She was frowning. One of those moments where Momo turned into a bomb and it was up to Y/N to disarm it without it exploding. The problem was that this was an impossible task to do, any wire he cut would result in an explosion. And that was the last thing he wanted. His head was already a battlefield in itself. That damn company party had exhausted his social battery, which wasn’t much anyway. Y/N didn’t have the courage to provoke an aerial bombardment that night.

"OK. Is the film already close to the end? I can see it with you.”

He sat on the left end of the sofa, Momo didn't mind moving his legs so he could have more space.

“Did you have fun there?” she asked.

"Yes. Was cool."

"Just that? No details?" she questioned him quite insistently.

“You’re watching the movie, I don’t want to disturb you. In the morning I’ll tell you everything.”

Y/N had his head focused on the bath he was going to take in a while and how he was going to sink his head into the pillow. No more plastic masks, fake laughs, shallow people, please.

She paused the movie.

“What a ridiculous excuse. It sounds like you were trying to hide the things that happened at the party.”

“No, it doesn’t sound…” He was almost sure of it.

“Yes it does, you bastard.”

“It wasn’t even a party. We were all among work colleagues.”

“I've been to enough parties to know that it was YES a party. Loud music, drinks, pool, snacks. The complete package.”

“It’s a damn modern company, okay? They please the employees and pretend to be cool so that we forget the slavery we are subjected to on a daily basis. You kids had fun on Saturday and you’ll work overtime on Monday, okay?”

“Wait, I made a mistake. In fact: VIP package. They even hired prostitutes. Five star service.”

“Are you high or what?”

He was too tired to read the signs.

“I saw the way she kept touching you. The giggles... As if you were the funniest clown on the planet and she was a fucking hyena.”

Y/N abruptly stood up from the couch. He had finally understood everything. The last spark of his neurons, probably.

“There were no prostitutes. And I wasn't chatting up with any girls.”

"Oh, really?" She stood up too. “Let me refresh your memory, dear: short black hair, horse smile, lilac dress, can't stand alone unless she's supported by a man, small tits... Seriously, I don't know why she decided to wear that dress with cleavage if there was nothing there to show. Someone should tell her the truth. So, does this remind you of anyone, my love?”

The fucking bomb exploded in his hand.

“That was Rachel, a friend from work. How the hell did you see what was going on at the party?”

Momo laughed sadistically. Her wickedly beautiful eyes looked at him with intensity as she asked:

“Are you afraid?”

"No. I didn't do anything wrong to get scared. Did someone record me at the party?”

"Yes. And it wasn't just that. I also saw the stories of those who were at the party and you appeared in some of them in the corners. I saw everything.”

‡

Here's a little overview of this relationship: A year and a half of dating. They met through mutual friends and the first deep contact was delayed, but when it happened it ended up becoming a path of no return. Y/N avoided her as much as he could, not in a way that would be noticeable and make him seem rude. But we were talking about an incredibly beautiful woman, aware of her attractiveness and unfettered by modesty. She was with a group of eight other beautiful and popular girls. Yes, she was elite. High caliber, my friend. Well, he was... quiet, an avid reader, calm and sometimes melancholic, but he loved being with his friends and enjoying them on the weekends, respecting his limits, of course. When he saw Momo for the first time he cowardly ignored her. She looks stunning in front of his eyes, wearing a short denim skirt, a baby tee that leaves her sculpted abs on display and her hair flowing in the wind as she dances. There was no way to predict that the plan would backfire; by not noticing her, Y/N became one of the few guys who didn't try to flirt with her. Apathetic guy, but handsome enough to take risks, the little boy who only swims in the shallow end, a plastic armor he forced himself to wear.

The reason? Momo didn't know, but she wanted to find out.

On one of the many night outs where they bumped into each other, Momo skillfully simulated an intimacy that clearly didn't exist between them, talking to Y/N closely, fake accidental touches, and killer eye contact. Abruptly, intimacy between them was forged and evolved in a short space of time. After a while it was no longer strange when they were among friends and Momo sat on his lap, or when she felt tired and rested her head on his shoulder. And Y/N could play hard to get, but he loved the attention he got from Momo, the controversial “bad bitch” (as some girls who didn't like Momo called her), the most attractive girl he knew was always glued to him, and the sexual chemistry that grew over time intoxicated his ego. Being with her made him feel good and more confident and also… shit, she was more than a superficial person or 'just another one of those teasing girls' like a lot of guys used to think. She had a unique way, attitude and things to say too.

‡

“Were you acting like a stalker all night? Seriously, watching stories of other people trying to see me from the corners is a fucking weird thing.”

“And you've been acting like you don't have a girlfriend all night? I almost called Jihyo to drive me to this party to say a few things to that bitch. But I’m not that kind of girlfriend.”

“What is the reason we are arguing? This shit doesn't make sense. I'm exhausted..."

“Have you forgotten your promise? You told me you would arrive early...”

“I didn’t look at the time when I was there. I thought it was still early when I was leaving the party.”

A cynical laugh escaped Momo's mouth.

“You didn't even bother to look at your fucking cell phone to see the time. What is your problem?"

Y/N sighed. He should have already known that going to this party wouldn't be a good idea.

“You know I only went to the party to establish some contacts with the other branch. The damn job forces me to maintain a good relationship with everyone.”

"Poor boy! Does it also force you to talk to sluts?”

"This again?!”

“A little bird told me you were too close to each other on the couch.”

“Who was this damn person?”

“Why blow the heroine’s cover? Maybe she’ll be there again at the next parties.”

“Would you like it if I hired someone to follow you around?”

"Go ahead. I have nothing to hide, because I have consideration and respect for you, asshole!”

“According to you, I cheated you just by sitting on a couch talking to a co-worker. A colleague who can help me move up in the company as she has just been promoted.”

“Apparently it’s not just at work where she likes to be promoted.”

"What do you want from me?" he asked, feeling defeated.

"You know what I want."

“Honestly, I don't know. God must be punishing me for some sin I committed, that’s the only explanation.”

“Make me your girlfriend or your tormentor. You decide." She took a step forward. “You know I could be with anyone. But I'm with you ‘cause I love you, silly.”

If only there wasn't something genuine about it all.

‡

Being alone with her knocking down topic after topic like dominoes was so fucking enjoyable, the way she laughed, the way she listened to him (Momo didn't interrupt him even during the long pauses he took when he needed to organize his line of reasoning, a mere peculiarity of his but which never went under her radar), the way she could be incredibly silly at times and, even without sharing many common interests, Momo liked having him explain things that were previously uninteresting to her. This attention he received was blinding and addictive. Growing up in a harmful and neglectful home, neediness was his compass and his weakness. But he never showed signs. Y/N was good at disguising it... He thought so.

Their first sex was an unforgettable moment, a path of no return, in the same way that a criminal remembers the moment of the crime that sentenced him to prison. It occurred when they were on a camping trip, good friends gathered, each to their own tent, campfire, marshmallows, snacks, stupid horror stories, and wine. One of the few moments where he felt slightly intimidated around her, as he felt Momo watching him like a predator, and after each glass of wine she became more and more intoxicated, grabbing Y/N from behind and wrapping her arms around him. “It’s very cold here” she whispered in his ear. And Y/N couldn't tell if it was the wind or Momo's velvety voice so close to him that made him shiver.

The hours passed incredibly quickly, eventually everyone retreated to their tents, and eventually there was a slow cessation of the noises of people, finally leaving only the cold whistle of the wind, the rustle of leaves in the trees that surrounded the hill where they were camped and the symphony of insects orchestrated by crickets and cicadas.

He heard sneaky footsteps. It was certainly someone who needed to take a piss and didn't want to wake the others. But the footsteps got louder and louder until he noticed that someone was actually coming to his tent, stopping in front of the entrance. The flash on his cell phone was on (he was reading a book and the damn camp lamp was emitting a horrible orange light), so he pointed the light at the entrance of the tent and saw a very familiar silhouette.

“It’s me, Momo. Let me in!" she whispered. "Quickly!"

Y/N lowered the zipper, opening the way for her.

“What are you doing up?” he asked.

“I was sleepless so I decided to come and check on you.”

"I am well thanks."

She was wearing comfortable clothes. Striped pajama pants, a sweatshirt that was too big on her and her hair loose and messy. Y/N noticed that Momo had removed her makeup. It was the first time he had seen her like that.

"What are you reading?" Momo asked as she sat down.

“Tropic of Cancer, by Henry Miller.”

"Cool! What is it about?!"

How the hell was he going to explain this?

“About a guy living in Paris.”

"It seems good. Read a chapter to me.”

"How old are you?"

“Don’t be annoying. Let's do it like this: I point the cell phone's flash at the book and you hold it while you read to me. This way we can read lying down.”

Hard to refuse, hard to say 'no' to her.

‡

“You know I love you too, Momori.” he said

Momo was wearing his long-sleeved shirt, she loved that shirt and, truth be told, it looked incredibly good on her. The legs so sensually exposed... Was that still a discussion?

“Sometimes you make me doubt this love, baby. Do you like making me look crazy? I swear to God you love seeing me jealous. When I get like this, does it make you horny?”

“No” he lied to one of the questions.

“You know how I am, Y/N.” One more step forward. She could touch him if she wanted. “And I only ask one thing: don’t talk to other girls. We establish a limit and then cross it, what is the purpose?”

Now closer he could smell her, her body that was warmed by the blanket. Nipples hardened through the fabric of her clothing.

“You look so beautiful...” he blurted out of her mouth.

“But I don’t think I’m beautiful enough for you since you try to be with other girls when I’m not around.”

"Is not true. I only have eyes for you, Momori.”

With a decisive gesture she grabbed Y/N by the collar of his social shirt. A noise escaped his mouth. Slowly she ordered:

“Say you are mine. Say you belong to me.”

‡

He felt her head moving on his chest, he thought she was just looking for a comfortable position, until he was surprised by a kiss on the neck. And another one. And another, and they were getting more and more intense.

"What are you doing?" he asked as he lowered the book, the air escaping from her mouth.

“This book is really interesting and even put me in the mood to do something more fun.”

"What are you talking about?"

He had his hands pressed into Momo's arms, but he made no real effort to push her away.

“I know what you think about me. I know what you want from me. Don’t try to hide it now.” Her voice breathy and wavering. “I want to fuck you so bad, fuck!”

"Here?"

"Now!”

Y/N turned Momo around, placing her back on the floor and then getting on top of her.

“Momo…” His head was a hurricane. Was this really happening? “I've imagined the two of us doing this, but I never thought it could actually happen.”

There was a pause that was filled by a kiss.

“I don’t think you know how hot you are. Other girls were also eyeing you, so I decided to act quickly.”

Y/N lifted Momo's sweatshirt, and was able to appreciate and touch her abs for the first time. Kissing her abdomen was like an achievement, she knew how beautiful it was, that's why she never made a point of hiding it. The soft, slightly sweaty skin met his lips in a mix of sensations.

He lifted her sweatshirt a little more, exposing her juicy boobs. They were big, he knew that, but the first glimpse paralyzed him for an instant, he was amazed, and his hand filled with desire wasted no time in grabbing one of the tits while his mouth sucked the other..

“Oh, Y/N” she moaned.

The cell phone's flashlight went out as they rolled from side to side in the camping tent. Surrounded by the weak orange light of the camp lantern, the senses now seemed more heightened, the touches more intense and brazen, the breathing more labored and an uncontrollable lust, noticeable in several ways, such as Momo's pussy that wet his fingers when he touched her down there.

‡

“I belong to you” he declared. “Is that what you wanted to hear? I am only yours, Momori.”

She smiled satisfied.

"Sit down!" she exclaimed harshly, and pushed him onto the couch. Momo certainly knew how to impose herself when she wanted, the mechanism of submitting him to her will through horny never failed. Sitting on his lap, she said: “You like to make me suffer, you know that? You like having your girlfriend mad so she can have hard sex with you and get you back on track. So depraved, baby!”

It was partly true, although he wasn't consciously acting to make her jealous. The problem was that this wasn't a difficult task, the girl was possessive as hell, so the options fluctuated between becoming a puppy on a leash or floating on the waves of a tide that could occasionally get... Aggressive.

"Do not say that. I don’t like making you feel bad.”

She kissed him, she felt Y/N getting excited down there.

“And yet you hurt me.”

He couldn't refute it, so her tongue had another use; warm and wet, she played with Momo's tongue. She sighed when he lightly bit her lower lip, slowly removing the pressure, enjoying her taste like a professional taster.

“It was never my intention,” he said. “Your jealousy is sick.”

“Living with you is hell, you know that?” she revealed. “But you always make me feel so surrendered." Momo slowly touched her nose to Y/N's. She whispered: "It’s a fucking hell, baby.”

Instead of responding, he decided to dedicate a series of kisses to her neck. Momo loved it, it was her weakness. She smiled while letting out small moans of satisfaction.

Momo stroked his dick and under the fabric of his underwear and pants he was already completely hard, waiting for her. She rubbed her hand on his dick eagerly while he felt her breasts and left hickey marks on her neck.

“Oh baby, I want your cock in my pussy so bad!”

‡

He covered her mouth with his hand while he penetrated her deeply. The friends' camping tents were close to Y/N's, and Momo was moaning loudly, so it wouldn't be difficult to hear her in the silence of the night.

“Shhh! You can’t make noise like that!” he said breathlessly.

“It’s fucking hard. Your dick is really big.”

At one point she crossed her legs around Y/N's waist and he could feel her pussy getting tighter and wetter. Immediately Y/N laid his body under hers, penetrating her with force, feeling her pussy swallow his cock eager for pleasure. She moaned loudly, Y/N sucked on her tongue in an attempt to suppress some of the noise, Momo's eyes rolling back in pleasure as her legs tightened around him, pulling him deeper, as if she could never have him inside enough. Each thrust was an explosion of raw sensation, her insides wetting his cock urgently as he fucked her with wild love, each movement driven by desire that had been postponed for too long.

“Lie on your side!” Y/N asked.

He watched her with burning lust, his eyes fixed on her pert ass, eager to possess her in a different way. With one quick movement, he positioned himself behind her, his cock pulsing with anticipation as he slid in, feeling enveloped by the warm wetness of her wet pussy. He gripped Momo tightly, his hands marking her skin as he fucked her sideways, each thrust sending waves of electric pleasure throughout her body. Momo's moans filled the air, soft and sweet, mixing with the sounds of the wet friction his dick made as it slid inside her. All the touches, the intimate conversations, the looks that met and lost each other when they were in the circle of friends, the jealousy they hid from each other when one of them was talking to someone else, all these things led them to this moment , and now they assumed this feeling… making love.

Momo showed some of her talent when she rode his dick with her back to him, Y/N's body rippling with desire as she rode him with full force. Her hips moved with an erotic cadence, his cock disappearing inside her with each thrust as if he were plunging into a warm ocean. He squeezed Momo's fat ass, guiding her movements as she gave herself over to the frenzy of sex, her moans intensifying with each thrust – fuck if anyone would hear. The tension between them was palpable, the air in the tent stifling as they neared their climax. And then, finally, Momo squirted, her body shaking with the intensity of her orgasm, as Y/N watched her in wonder in the light of the camp lantern, her silhouette writhing with pleasure, so perfect, so sensual that he could fill her of cum at that moment.

Something he didn't do.

Things happened so fast that Y/N didn't have time to put on a condom. Well, truth be told, he DID NOT have a condom in his tent (not the kind of thing you think about taking on a camping trip with friends when you're a single guy).

“Cum for me, baby” she asked, her voice full of lust. “Where do you want to cum?”

“On your tits.”

It was one of Y/N's fantasies, it usually came to his mind when he saw Momo with cleavage. Now it all seemed so intentional...

Y/N stood on top of Momo, his desire burning so strong he could barely think straight. With shaking hands, he grabbed Momo's massive boobs, feeling his hard-on grow as he squeezed them tightly. Y/N wanted to feel every inch of that soft flesh surrounding his thick cock, he wanted to sink into that delicious sensation until he lost his mind. And then, without further hesitation, he began to move frantically, sliding his hard cock between Momo's breasts with great desire. Loud moans echoed through the tent as he gave in to the pleasure of that sensation, losing himself in the sensation of heat and pressure.

“You gonna cum for me, huh?” she asked between moans, making a point of maintaining latent eye contact while smiling naughty.

“Yeah, I'm gonna cum for you, baby! You're gonna make me cum, Momo.”

“please please, cum for me!! Yeah! Cum for your naughty babygirl...” she begged, hot as fuck, while biting her lower lip like a horny bitch.

And when Y/N finally reached the edge he let out a primal groan, his orgasm exploding in a hot shot over Momo's boobs and face. She looked so beautiful like that in the light of the camp lamp. Y/N brushed her face with his dick, making a nice mess on that adorable little face, and she smiled while this happened, Momo smiled until he finished his art, she finished the job by licking what was left on the head of his dick.

Uninhibited from any shyness, thanks to the endorphins his brain had released, he smiled at her, finding her the most beautiful woman in the world, and into Momo's precious eyes, Y/N confessed: 'I wanna love you.’

‡

It's common to look for culprits in a dysfunctional relationship, who manipulates who, the prisoner and the jailer and all that old story. It's hard to admit that sometimes there is a dark pleasure in predicting events, returning to the same place that is your refuge and your sentence. Most people shoot at "emotional dependence", but few dare to target "connivance". Y/N felt like he was part of the second option. Repeat the fucking pattern, see the wheel spin in the same direction, the same trip as before. It's your pit of lies and acceptance, man, you smell the stench and yet you insist on moving forward, it's not much different than a dog licking its own vomit. At the end of the day, no one will tell you that you deserve better.

If you really deserve it.

"I remember what you said to me that night in the camping tent." She whispered, lying under his chest. "When we had sex for the first time. 'I wanna love you'. That's what you said. Your voice was so sweet and calm. I think that's when I realized that my feelings for you were really special."

The two were snuggled in bed, protected from the cold by the blankets, completely naked after having sex. This was always how fights ended, and the question that arose was: what's the next thing, now? An apology? Unfounded promises about how to improve as a person? Affectionate words to dissolve what was said during the fight? It was a mystery box.

"Those were the words? I honestly don't remember the exact words clearly."

"That's exactly what you told me. I slept with you in the camping tent feeling very happy."

"I was happy to be with you too."

"But at that time I didn't realize that you were actually still trying to fall in love with me. You wanted to love me, but you didn't really love me yet."

"I was a little confused at that time."

"What now? Are you still trying to love me?"

"I love you, Momori. but at the same time... I don't think we work together.”

"We agreed to it then. And honestly, does it matter?"

"I don't know. I feel like it doesn't matter anymore."

"Yeah! And look, we're not the only couple to go through problems like this. We're not alone in this, baby. Forget that Hollywood bullshit about perfect couples. It's not real. It's okay for me to stay like this, as long as we stay together."

"We always fix things."

"Making love is a great way to solve problems. That's our formula."

"Come here, my love" he said.

A/N: sorry for any grammar errors 🖖

#smut male reader #male reader #gg smut #kpop gg #smut #kpop smut #hirai momo #momo smut #twice momo #Hirai Momo smut #twice smut #toxic relationship #angst #smut and angst #momo x reader #x male reader #x male y/n #x male smut #smut twice #male reader smut #y/n #smut reader

[exactlyyoungchaos]

Loss of my life.

(ex) husband Simon X f!Reader

Part 2.

CW: divorce, hurt, angst, emotional cheating, trauma. let me know if I missed any, enjoy!!!!

(Don't mind the mistakes.)

If you know it in one glimpse, it's legendary

You and I go from one kiss to gettin married

Still alive, killing time at the cemetery

Nobody prepares you for something like this. What do you do when someone you loved more than your own life, rips apart your soul in pieces? What do you do when the one person you trusted your heart with, leaves you to gather scraps of whatever is left of it?

It's been months since that day. The day you found out that the man you love loved someone else. You moved out the next day, he didn't try and stop you, didn't try to argue or make you stay, he just stood in the corner and watched as you packed up your whole life in a suitcase and left.

When your lawyer served him divorce papers, he didn't hesitate. he signed it immediately as if he was trying to get rid of you, or maybe he was. you don't know, you don't know anything anymore.

When you were young, you were scared to be in relationships because the idea of trusting somebody with everything and giving them the power to hurt you was ridiculous. you always thought love was a sham, just something for romance books and movies.

it was when you met Simon you realized it was all real. the chemical reaction inside your brain that makes you want to stay with someone forever. Laughing at their stupid jokes, waking up next to them, love them was all real. Or maybe it wasn't.

now all you recall, was how you almost had it all. how it all just slipped from your hands without warning.

maybe it was your fault. maybe you weren't enough. maybe you didn't know how to love properly, maybe you were unlovable.

maybe, maybe, maybe.......

Or perhaps it was a sign that a prophecy in your name had already been written. you are not meant for love, you were sent here to be alone, to be betrayed by whoever you trust, to be unworthy. so others would know what not to be.

You sat on the bed of your new apartment, looking at your wedding ring that was still on your finger. you couldn't get yourself to take it off. your heart wasn't ready to accept what your brain already knew.

You couldn't cry anymore, your tears were gone, and all that was left was a deep ache of loss in your chest.

Why? Why did he do this to you? why did he make those vows when he never meant to keep them? you wanted answers, that you knew you'd never get.

If your parents saw you in this state, they would be ashamed of you. you're ashamed of yourself. you can't eat, you can't get out of your bed, because something counterfeits dead.

The house you once called home is haunted by the ghost of lies and deceit. How long has it been going on? how many times did you aly with him in your bed and he wished it was her instead of you?

You were driving yourself crazy. Day by day you were losing your sanity as you combed through your whole life trying to find where it all went wrong.

you've been getting calls from your friends, and messages that you keep ignoring. What were you going to tell them? They bought his lies too.

He said forever and you bought it.

And the worst part is, you miss him. You miss your life, how it used to be filled with laughter, love, and light with him. How he used to hold you when you broke down. How he caressed you when you were in pain, how he made love to you.

Now you're sitting in a cold, dark, and empty apartment on another continent, you don't know who to call and ask for help.

All of your things remind you of him. Do you throw all of the things you built together or keep it? you were tired, mending your gashes on your own. He dealt a final blow and left you to deal with it.

And he doesn't care. He's already with her. he already replaced you. Nothing you two had was real.

But then why do you feel like dying? Why was it that you can't feel anything anymore? Is this how it will always be? Will you ever be okay enough to want to live?

all of these were very big questions you weren't ready to ask yet, or maybe you never will be.

you needed a distraction and you needed it fast.

you picked up your phone for the first time in the day and went straight to the one person you knew who could give you a reprieve from yourself.

Laswell.

You felt numb as you dialed her number as if a switch had been turned off in your brain. She picked up on the third ring.

"Sparrow,"

She still called you by your code name. Your first team that you were assigned to as a rookie medic gave it to you.

"I need a job," is all you said.

AN: SOOOOO!! DID WE LIKE IT? THOTS? I might have shed a tear or two writing this. don't mind me.

@ssc7514 @rrtxcmt

If you want to be tagged in the next part do tell me.

Until next time sugarplums.

ALI-💋💋💋

#cod fic #cod mw x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #angst #simon riley angst #ghost cod #call of duty modern warfare 2 #cod modern warfare #kate laswell

[genshingorlsrevengeance]

I was reading some of your old stuff and saw the one where Beidou’s S/O scared of ocean.

So keeping the same energy how about Xianyun,Amber and Sara(or anyone who has thing for heights/flying) with an S/O who’s scared of heights?

Imagine teasing someone like Sara and her grabbing you, dashing towards the sky and dangle you by your leg until you say sorry.

Oh and sorry for sending too many asks you’re like one of the few most active on Reader x fandom blogs and your work is amazing!

(Genshin Impact) Xianyun, Amber, and Sara's S/O being afraid of heights

I don't think Sara would be THAT sadistic personally, and don't worry about sending asks! That askbox will just grow sentient and kill me soon anyway.

Xianyun to some extent, understands S/O's fear of heights.

After all, they could not easily fly like her, being a mortal human and all.

Nevertheless, this does not stop Xianyun from constructing a device that would help alleviate their fear.

She wished to show them how beautiful the world was from up high.

More pressingly, she couldn't invite them to her true abode since the domain looked like it was floating above an endlesss chasm, S/O would surely die from fear from that alone.

(S/O) "Xianyun? What's that?"

(Xianyun) "One has created a device that will let you soar up into the air."

(S/O) "...W-Why?"

(Xianyun) "So that we could help dispel your fear of flight, I can safely assure that is 100% safe."

(S/O) "I don't doubt it, but I don't think my heart could-"

(Xianyun) "Worry not, for One will be with you every step of the way."

Xianyun is patient, after all she had four disciples under her care.

Everyday she helps them practice and eventually start floating ever so higher off the ground.

Amber understands the concept of being afraid of heights, but since she glides all over Mondstadt, she can't fully comprehend it.

It does not stop her from at least trying to comfort S/O.

(Amber) "Hey, no worries! I won't force you to jump off Starsnatch Cliff with me-"

(S/O) "Y-YOU BETTER NOT!"

If S/O wanted to help conquer their fear, Amber takes it very slow.

No diving off cliffs, at least not yet.

Amber is always stoked to help them out, making sure that they will never get hurt, not on her watch!

(S/O) "I will never understand how you can do this every single day...!"

(Amber) "Psh, this height is nothing! I once did a backflip off Dragonspine-"

(S/O) "Of course you did..."

Sara doesn't fly often unless it's during a battle or an emergency, so thankfully S/O doesn't really have to deal with heights.

At least, as much. There were still lots of cliffs in Inazuma City, strangely enough.

Sara does her best to make sure they don't get near them often, but if she was ever approached on trying to face their fears.

Well, she could make some exceptions.

(Sara) "Are you sure? You can always just-"

(S/O) "A-As long as you're here, I'll...I'll try!"

Her heart began to swell with pride and affection, seeing how much they faith they placed in her, as well as themselves.

She was carrying them bridal style, before deciding to go for a little test flight.

(Sara) "Hold on tight, S/O."

#genshin impact imagines #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact headcanons #xianyun x reader #amber genshin impact x reader #sara kujou x reader #xianyun genshin #amber genshin impact #kujou sara

[celtic-crossbow]

We Were Built to Fall Apart and Fall Back Together

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader Setting: Alexandria (pre-Saviors war) Warnings: Typical TWD violence and gore; blood, injury, illness; allusions to self harm; canonical character death Summary: After Denise's death, you notice something is terribly off about Daryl, but he won't let you close enough to find out what. A/N: This novel was written for @darylssunshine and my lord, I'm worried that I got too carried away and that's just a ton of rambling and ooc Daryl. 😢

Something was wrong with Daryl.

You couldn’t put your finger on it, but you just knew he wasn’t himself. Well, completely himself. He was amped up and ready to fight, ready to take revenge. Everyone seemed to understand why. He had watched Denise die, harbored that guilt upon his own shoulders alone. He had conceded and let her go with him and Rosita. It was his fault that she had been taken from the community, taken from Tara. Of course, that wasn’t true. The blame lay solely on the Saviors, but Daryl was nothing if not self deprecating and stubborn. That—the willingness to take full responsibility, to beat himself down—was commonplace. However, there was something else.

Something in the way he communicated, a quieter tone than usual. Of course, no one else picked up on it. No one else spent 99% of their time with him. No one else had conversations with him in bed, heard him vent or laugh or just talk when everything else was still and quiet.  Not like you. No one else heard the different octaves, the slight trembles. To everyone else, he was just talking. 

Something in the way he carried himself. Daryl had a specific gait. Nearly silent footfalls when stealth or care was needed but in everyday activities, his boots pounded the ground. He walked with purpose, long and even strides. Not with a slight drag of his left leg. So minuscule that no one seemed to notice. Except you. 

Something in the way he ate. Daryl had a healthy appetite. He shoveled food into his mouth like someone would take it from him at any moment. Maybe someone had before. He gave it up willingly when supplies were scarce and he feared the kids would do without. Supplies weren’t at a surplus but no one was starving, yet no one seemed to notice that Daryl wasn’t eating. No one except you. 

You had reasons to worry that others had no way of being aware. Daryl wasn’t coming to bed at night. Two nights in a row. You found him on the couch the next morning. That was concerning in itself. Daryl up at the ass crack of dawn Dixon was still asleep when you came downstairs. Once he was awake, there was no conversation. Not a word spoken. He’d forego his coffee and anything to eat and just trudge out the door. 

“So.” You leaned back against the wall next to him, narrowing your eyes when he moved to the side just the slightest bit. 

“So?” He crossed his arms, hands tucked away in his armpits. 

“What’s wrong with you?” You pressed, forcing yourself to keep your distance. He angled his head toward you but kept his eyes on the meeting. 

“Ain’t nothin’ wrong with me.” He rasped in a whisper so quiet that you needed to lean closer to hear him properly. You answered with a simple mhm. There was no point in pursuing the conversation there. 

“Has anyone taken inventory since—” Rick let the words filter out, dropping his head with a sniff. “Tara isn’t up for it but we need to know what we’re running low on and—”

“I can do it.” Carol volunteered, standing and smoothing her pants and shirt. “I’ll go now. We know there was quite a list when she—” Even Carol couldn’t seem to muster the words. 

“Died.” Daryl finished, his voice rough. Everyone looked at him, a variety of expressions. “What? No one else seems to be able to say it. She was murdered. Killed. Dead.”

Rick was quiet for a moment, as were you, waiting for the next thing someone would say. 

“That isn’t on you Daryl. It was the Saviors, and she wanted—”

“The hell it ain’t.” The archer snapped, pulling his body from against the wall with the slightest stagger. You squinted, surveying the room. No one noticed. Of course they didn’t. “I took ‘er out there. Knew better but did it anyway.” He was challenging them, daring anyone to try and take some of the weight of guilt from his shoulders. When no one spoke up, he tapped his fist against the side of his leg and stalked out of the room. 

Then it was all eyes on you. A wordless game of who’s gonna check on Daryl was set in motion. 

“I’ve got him.” You nodded and left the room. He wasn’t in the foyer and unlikely to be upstairs in a house that wasn’t his own, so you opened the door and traipsed down the porch steps. “Daryl?” A look to the left and then to the right revealed nothing but empty evening streets in Alexandria. 

You knew almost everything there was to know about the archer. Including that if he did not want to be found, you would not find him. 

You did the only thing you could. You sighed and headed home, hoping just maybe he’d be there, though the odds were against you. 

The house was dark when you got there, which was nothing new. Even if he was home, he could move around in the shadows like a ghost. Opening the door, you stepped inside and closed it behind you, opting to leave the lights off for the moment. 

“Daryl, are you home?”

Nothing. 

Another sigh as you removed your boots and padded into the kitchen, this time, turning on the lights. Coffee would have been the better option but your nerves won out with their persuasive argument for alcohol. You had two bottles of wine that you used in cooking—well, that was the intended use. 

Glass poured and book in hand, you turned off the light and perched yourself on the couch, lighting a candle to illuminate the words on the pages while you waited for him. Even if you fell asleep, you’d know if he came home.  If the apocalypse had made you into anything, it was a light sleeper. You’d know the moment that door opened. 

It never did. 

When morning came without a trace of your boyfriend, you passed into another level of worry, the part where the scenarios came intruding upon your usually levelheaded thoughts. 

What if he had gone after the Saviors alone? What if he had been hurt? What if he had been—

No. That thought, you simply refused to entertain. Boots on and weapons holstered, you stepped outside. Carol was walking toward your house, but before you could ask if she had seen the missing archer, she was looking up with a hand hovering over her eyes to block the sun.  A glance toward you but she remained silent. 

Jogging down the steps, you joined her, shielding your eyes and looking toward the roof of your house. 

Daryl was perched there, knees drawn up with his arms wrapped around them. He was just watching the townsfolk move about without a word or movement. You worked your jaw back and forth to stifle the annoyance of having him above your head all night while you waited for him until the candle had burned out. 

“I got this. Thanks, Carol. Did you need anything else?”

She was still watching her best friend but reluctantly turned to you. “We’re running low on nearly everything in the infirmary. Gauze, gloves, ointments, antibiotics, painkillers, and the meds some of the people need to manage health issues. Would you—”

There was a loud thud several feet away, Daryl straightening—staggering and tilting but yes, straightening—from his jump. “I got it. Make a list.”

“Daryl, maybe you should—” Carol started. 

“Make a list.” Was all he said before walking up the steps and into the house. 

You started to speak but the other woman was faster. “Something’s not right with him.” She had crossed her arms and was staring at your front door. “He isn’t eating. He’s walking differently and there’s something about his tone.” You blinked at her. “What? Just because you’re sleeping with him, you think the best friend doesn’t notice these things too?” Carol smiled, squinting against the sun. 

“Touché.” You conceded with a nod. 

“I’ll make the list but go with him. You and someone else. No matter what he says.” Her hand came to rest on your shoulder and squeeze. 

“You know I don’t listen to what he says anyway.” You placed your hand over hers and brought it down with a squeeze of your own, separating as you walked toward your house. 

Your bag was on a hook by the door, all unused necessities still inside. You merely needed to replenish and pack up some extra clothes. As your boot touched the bottom step of the staircase, you heard the tap begin to run in the kitchen. You carefully hung your bag on the banister post. 

Rounding into the room, you found Daryl grasping the edge of the kitchen island, arms outstretched with his head hanging between them. His hair was draped like a curtain, shielding any view of his face. The glass he’d filled sat untouched in front of him. 

As you approached, it became apparent that he hadn’t realized you were even in the room. That was beyond concerning. Daryl had an eagle eye and the hearing of an owl. He should have heard you the moment you entered the house. 

“Daryl.”

He didn’t startle, just simply squeezed the countertop’s edge. “Take it you’re goin’ too.” He rasped, his words followed by a harsh sniff. 

“Of course, I am.” You stepped closer and reached for his hand, your fingertips barely making it halfway before he moved. “Daryl, wait.”

“G’on an’ get ready. Wanna head out, maybe be back ‘fore dark.” 

“Listen, I know someth—”

“Take whatcha need in case we gotta make it a overnight thing.” His own bag was on the hook beside where yours had been moments ago. Daryl snatched it as he opened the door and headed outside. 

“Stubborn fucking mule.” You grumbled, jerking your bag from the post on your way up the stairs. 

You had been in the car for 45 minutes and Abraham had not stopped talking. You loved the big red gorilla but sometimes, he needed several layers of duct tape over his mouth. From the way Daryl was massaging his left temple as he drove, you would need to find that tape or the other man would be riding in the trunk very soon. 

“Really puts a burr in my saddle what they did to Denise.”

Shit. 

Daryl’s hand tightened around the steering wheel, his knuckles going white. The fingers rubbing his temple clenched into a fist. His jaw tightened and ticked. Abe had already been grating his nerves and it seemed the other man had severed the last one completely. 

Time to defuse. 

You cleared your throat. “So, according to the map, we should take the next right.” With a grunt, the archer followed your directions. 

By the time he shifted the car into park, your worry for his well being had reached a crescendo. His eyelids were drooping. A thin sheen of sweat was glistening on any patch of skin you could see. And when he opened the door, he put his boots on the ground and sat for a moment before grasping the top of the door to pull himself up and out. 

Something was definitely wrong with Daryl. 

He opened the back door and grabbed his bag, slamming it before Abraham could even blink. 

“Alright, little lady. What seems to have his panties in a bunch?” 

Maybe you really could find some duct tape. 

“I have no clue.” You watched Daryl light a cigarette behind the car while he scoped out the strip mall for any signs of danger. Even while standing still, he listed sideways and struggled to right himself. “But it’s nothing good.”

“I’m gonna go on ahead. You check on your dreamboat. See if he needs to sit this one out.” The large man nodded, climbing out of the cramped backseat. 

“Oh. Yeah. Right. Cause that’s gonna work.” Abraham just grinned at you and got a clear view of your middle finger in return. Your eyes settled on your archer once again, now leaning against the trunk much as he had the counter that morning. Abraham stopped without getting too close, cracking some joke that at least made himself smile before moving on. Daryl simply shook his head. 

Your lips trilling, you finally opened the door and climbed out. Working your arms through the straps of your bag, you closed the car door and rounded the back as Daryl’s hand fell away from his stomach. He caught your narrowed gaze and grunted, pushing himself away from the car. 

“S’get this over with.” He grumbled, stalking away at a slower than usual pace. You didn’t even have to walk briskly to catch up as you normally would. 

“You—pulled a muscle?” You said in your best game show contestant voice. The man didn’t stop but his eyes slid over to regard you quizzically without turning his head. 

“What?”

“You have a migraine?”

“Y/N.”

“Indigestion?”

“Stop.”

“Stubbed your toe?”

“Y/N.”

“A goddamn splinter in your left asscheek? Would you just stop and tell me what’s going on?!” You reached for his shoulder but he sidestepped straight into a graceless stagger, expression pinched and angry. 

“Told ya already! Ain’t nothin’ wrong! Just wanna get this done so we can get back to focusin’ on those assholes that killed ‘er!” With a groan of frustration, he pulled his gun from the holster, but you didn’t miss the pain that flashed across his face. “Would ya just—just go that way? Ya got the list. M’gonna see if there’s anythin’ else we can use.”

“Daryl, I know you. Would you please—”

His arm straightened out past your head, pointing a finger on the direction Abe had gone. “G’on.”

Your nostrils flared but you spun on your heel and stomped away. The insufferable archer couldn’t possibly understand how well you knew him if he thought he was hiding anything by being a jerk. Daryl had three types of anger: angry, homicidal rage, and—the one you and everyone else saw the most—deflection. He would use the fear of provoking his ire to keep anyone from detecting that something wasn’t right, whether that be physical or emotional. 

Daryl was grieving and guilt-laden. No one could ever make him feel worse than he could on his very own, but per your observations over the last couple of days, that wasn’t the entire issue. There was a physical ailment of some sort. Precarious steps, sweating, exhaustion, poor appetite. 

Your stomps slowed to a crawl before your feet were just no longer moving. Abraham had caught sight of you by then, nodding that he had located the pharmacy, but you didn’t notice. 

“Oh, my god.” He would have told you, right? You, of all people. There’s no way he wouldn’t have, he wouldn’t have risked everyone. You were already running back to the spot where you had gone your separate ways, the tall redhead’s boots pounding the pavement behind you, but Daryl was no longer there. Not that you thought he would have just stood there anyway. 

“What’s all hubbub, bub?” Abe called from just behind you. 

You didn’t answer. You continued to take corners and weave in and out of alleys between shops, your gun drawn but not even poised to aim. “Daryl?” You called near frantically. The groans and snarls of hungry corpses grew nearer, sending your heart pumping into overdrive. “Daryl?!” 

Rounding into an alley, his name was on the tip of your tongue when a tight grip on your bag yanked you inside the door you had nearly passed right up. With a squeak, you made to raise your weapon only for an overly warm hand to push it back down. 

“Y’soundin’ the dinner bell out there or somethin’? S’gotten into ya?” Daryl snapped in a harsh whisper. His face was inches from yours, his hand still folded over your own. His skin was on fire.

Oh god, no. 

Abraham’s shadow blocked most of the light from outside the storage room, your words spilling into the shadows. “Daryl, are you bit?” His hand was snatched away as if you had slapped it. 

“The fu—no, I ain’t bit. Y’think I wouldn’a told ya?” Daryl hissed, turning to head further into the building. 

“I’m beginning to wonder.” You laughed wryly. He just kept walking. “Then you’re sick.”

There came a frustrated groan from the silhouette walking in front of you in the poorly lit area. “Give it a rest, would ya?”

“You have a fever. I felt it. You’re burning up.”

“S’my blood pressure hittin’ the roof cause you’re pissin’ me off!”

You bit your tongue when Abraham chuckled from somewhere behind you. “Who needs the good ol’ boob tube when you’ve got relationships in the end times?” You barely stopped yourself from aiming your gun at the man. There’s a time and a place was a concept with which Abe was drastically unfamiliar. 

“Would you stop waking please? I know you’re sick or—or you’re hurt. Just talk to me. I only—”

“M’a grown ass man, Y/N! Don’t need ya tryin’a be my mama!” He grabbed the handles to a set of heavy metal doors, but didn’t try to open them yet. “Get on back an’ find the pharmacy. Gonna meetcha there.”

“Daryl—” 

A large hand came to lay heavily on your shoulder, fingers squeezing with a tenderness that brought tears springing to your eyes. “Come on, chickadee. I think we should get on over to that pharmacy.” Daryl was still gripping the handles, his head bowed, the door remaining unopened. “Come on now.”

You swallowed hard with the first step back, wiping angrily at your eyes as you turned to push past Abraham. “Let’s get the shit and go home.” Stepping outside, you squinted against the sun and glanced to your right where the walkers shuffled by in the back alley. They hadn’t noticed you. When a solid thud sounded from behind you, there was no hesitation in rolling your eyes. “Jesus, Abe. Be quiet.”

“Wasn’t me.” 

You twisted to regard him, finding thick eyebrows raised while he shook his head. “Daryl.” His name came out across a breath. You pushed past the large man for a second time and navigated through the dimness to where you had left the archer at the door. A dark heap laid against the bottom of the entryway, unmoving. “Daryl? Oh god, Abe!” 

“Ssh. The walkin’ uglies are gettin’ closer. We should—oh, shit.”

You were already on your knees, feeling the dry heat of fever in Daryl’s skin when you took his face into your hands. He was no longer sweating; simply burning.  “Daryl. Daryl, please open your eyes.” With frantic movements, you started patting him down, moving clothing to examine his skin. “Abe, the flashlight.”

The redhead scrambled to shrug off his bag and pull the device from the side pocket. He clicked it on. “What’s wrong with him?”

“Hold it steady.” Parting Daryl’s vest, you began unbuttoning his shirt. “Turn your head.” 

“I’ve seen a man’s chest before, darlin’.”

“Turn your fucking head, Abraham!” You shouted, flinching when you heard a snarl that was much closer than the rest. “Give me the light please.” Your left hand held Daryl’s shirt closed, the buttons undone, while your right hand extended and gestured with urgency. “Please, Abe. Give me the light and go see how many there are—if you can handle them.”

He glanced between you and Daryl, obviously not understanding but did as you asked. Once he had walked out of sight, you lowered your head with a long exhale. Over the months you had known him, Daryl had allowed himself to feel less and less defined by his scars. That didn’t mean he wanted to parade them in front of everyone, even if the individual had already seen them. You and Carol seemed to be the only exceptions to that rule. 

The flashlight held beneath your chin, you parted his shirt, the culprit for his symptoms staring you in the face. A bandage covered the lower left side of his abdomen. It was clean but the skin just around the edges was an angry red. Nostrils flaring, you peeled away the gauze and then let go, the tape resticking to small areas. The flashlight fell to the concrete floor. 

“You are un-fucking-believable, Daryl Dixon.” 

The bullet wound was still open, torn and gaping from his own success in removing the slug, lined with crusts of yellow and a sickly shade of green inside. You knew what this was, this was his punishment. For himself. The burns for Beth. An untreated bullet wound for Denise. He wanted to hurt until he made it right.

“Goddamn you.” You sobbed, removing the bandage entirely. Bowing over him, you let your forehead drop against his chest, shoulders shaking with tears you no longer cared to suppress. No. No, you couldn’t break down. Daryl needed help. 

Abe wasn’t fighting. Aside from the distant snarls and scrapes of shuffling feet, you heard nothing. 

“Abe?” You called as loudly as you dared, sniffling, your face wet with tears and snot. “Abraham?” 

“I’m here, girly.” He appeared within your sight, gore-covered knife in hand. “Got the ones outside. 

“He was shot. It’s—it’s infected.” You scrambled to close Daryl’s shirt and picked up the flashlight, the beam trembling. “Would you—I need to go to the pharmacy. We’ll need the meds—everything that’s there. Can you stay with him?” He was shaking his head before you even asked. 

“I’m gonna take care of that pharmacy. Then we’ll load up tall, dark, and broody. We’ll go home and get him all fixed up, you hear me?” He called your name quietly and crouched down when you just kept staring at Daryl. “He’s gonna be just fine. He’s got you lookin’ after him.” Your wet gaze fought to meet Abraham’s, finally succeeding even as your eyes danced and darted in a valiant attempt to maintain it. 

The inhale trembled just as harshly as the exhale. “Okay. Okay, take our bags, too. You’ll need the extra space. I’ll, um—I’ll barricade the door after you go. Shave and a haircut when you come back?” 

“Two bits.” He grinned, rising to his full height. Your fingers grazed over Daryl’s jaw as you stood, loath to leave him for even that meager amount of time. Abe checked outside the entrance, each way, and turned around to walk backwards as you started closing the door. “If I’m not back in five minutes, just wait longer.” You rolled your red-rimmed eyes and shut him out. 

Searching the room with the flashlight lifted, you found a desk. It looked sturdy, heavy. You really weren’t even sure you could move it alone. Placing the flashlight on the floor, you pushed against the side, grunting and huffing between your sniffles and hiccups, but it was all for naught. The thing didn’t budge. 

“Fuck.” Spinning, you pressed your back against it and used your legs, finally getting the damn thing to slide, albeit noisily. You couldn’t manage getting it firmly against the door, but nothing was getting by it and that’s what counted. Snatching up the light, you grabbed one of a stack of metal folding chairs and ran back to Daryl’s side. He hadn’t moved an inch, but his head was rolling back and forth against the concrete. 

“Y/N—”

Longing to just sit next to him, you stood the flashlight on its end next to your feet and jammed the chair beneath the door handles. The dead weren’t coordinated or cognizant and could only open the door by accident but it was possible and you were taking no chances. 

Back on your knees, you leaned over him, smoothing back his sweat-slick hair. “I’m here, love. I’m mad as hell but I’m here.” The heat radiating from him made your stomach churn. You pressed a palm to his cheek, his forehead, flipping your hand over to do the same.  

“S’my fault. She’s dead—gone an’ s’on me.” He started to sit up, finding he couldn’t, either too weak or in too much pain. Daryl had a high tolerance for hurt, so it was likely the former. 

“Ssh. Stay still.” His hand moved toward the exposed wound. You caught his wrist and brought his palm to your lips, kissing and lowering it back to the floor. “Nothing’s your fault.” 

“You’re s’posed to say that cause ya love me.”

You laughed quietly. “Maybe, but I mean it. She wanted to go, Daryl.”  Petting his hair in tender strokes, you watched his eyes struggle to remain open. They were only slits of bloodshot and blue as it was. There was a thud scrape thud outside.

“You’re pretty.” Daryl slurred, head turning to chase your touch when you pulled away to twist toward the alley door, blocked by several shelves and other junk. No coordinated knock, no light seeping inside. Walkers. 

“That’s the fever talking.” Out of an unfortunate practiced habit, you checked his pulse, finding it thready, too fast. 

“Nah. Always pretty. Even when I ain’t cookin’ from the inside out.” His eyes were closed, rolling beneath the lids. 

“And you’re handsome. Even when you are cooking from the inside out.” You mused, tracing his jaw with a fingertip. The corner of his mouth ticked, as close to a smile as you were likely to get. “Abraham went to clear the pharmacy. Gonna get you all cleaned up. Head home. You’re gonna be in a bed for a while.”

“I like the bed.” You were wrong. Now, he was smirking, eyelids fluttering. “‘Specially when you’re in it too.” His hand left the cold floor and landed lightly on your right hip, fingers weakly flexing. “Could take advantage’a me right now.”

“Oh my god,” you laughed in earnest, “now I know it’s the fever talking.” It was a true statement. Daryl almost never initiated physical intimacy, but he also never turned you down when you craved it. 

When your relationship entered into sexual territory, you thought he was only doing it because he wanted you to be happy, guilt had consumed you. As if his Y/N sense had tingled, he had reassured you, promised that he wanted it too but just didn’t know how to show it, how to come to you with his own needs. He was a patient and gentle lover, contrary to his rough and rugged exterior. He was comfortable showing you that side, that affection, behind closed doors. That’s all you could ever ask for, ever would ask for. 

“Wanna kiss ya.” His hand carved a trail up your side, fingertips grazing your breast but not lingering. His hot palm settled on the side of your neck. “I love ya. Gimme a kiss.”

Smiling brightly at this vulnerability and feverish show of true emotion, feelings that would never receive a voice— even with you—you leaned down and brushed your lips over his. His mouth trembled as he began to shiver, chills setting in from his body fighting the infection, fever burning unchecked. “Easy, tiger.” You cooed against his mouth. “I love you too. You stay in bed when we get back and I’ll give you whatever you want, but for now, I just need you to rest for me, okay?”

“Whatever my girl wants, she gets.” He grinned, silly and lopsided, as you pulled away for a clear look at his face. Even in this state, you had not a single doubt that if Abe returned at that very moment, Daryl would morph into a scowling, grumpy asshat. Oh, how you were going to tease him later. He deserved it for hiding that injury from you.

Minutes ticked by, and it felt like hours. How long had Abraham been gone? Daryl was trying to roll over, attempting to curl in on himself, but you managed—with frighteningly little effort—to keep him on his back. When he groaned, arching his upper half with a hand trying to press against the wound, you caught his wrist again. “Ssh ssh ssh, leave it alone. I know it hurts but it’s infected enough as it is.” He didn’t appear to have any walker blood on his hands from what you could see with the dim flashlight beam but you’d take no chances.

“M’sorry I lied to ya.” Now he just sounded miserable, your heart clenching and aching despite your frustration. 

“I know you are. You can make it up to me later. Right now, I just need you to rest and hang on, okay?” Your fingers carded through his hair, catching on tangles and snarls. You’d help him wash it later, give him the sweet attention he so desperately needed while hurting so deeply, physically and emotionally. 

He went quiet after that, still trying to reposition, whimpering when you wouldn’t allow it. 

“I know, baby.” His pain so bare, ailing from the infection, you could hardly find it within you to be angry with him. He had punished himself enough. He didn’t need the weight of your irritation on top of it. You would need to talk to him, but you’d have to hold back, douse that flicker of anger that he didn’t allow you to help him carry the emotions that were weighing on him so heavily. 

Knock knock, na-knock knock. 

“Abe.” You whispered, beginning to rise to your feet when you felt a weak tug at the bottom hem of your shirt. Daryl’s eyes were wide and unfocused, the pretty blue dull from fever. 

“Don’t go.” 

With a sorrowful look of apology, you worked his fingers loose, lifting his hand to your mouth to kiss his knuckles. “It’s okay. I’ll be right back. Not even leaving this room.” He didn’t respond, but allowed you to lower his hand back onto the floor. Standing, you quickly crossed the distance to the door, placed your back against the desk to slide it away. You barely achieved it, feeling wrung out from Daryl’s openness under the influence of his feverish state. 

“We hit the jackpot.” The redheaded man held up two bags, the contents nearly spilling out. The one on his back was equally as full. 

“Did you see fever reducers? Tylenol? Ibuprofen? Aspirin?” You grabbed the side of the bag closest to you, nearly tipping it too far in your haste. Abe was talking behind you, reblocking the door while you walked back to Daryl, your hand sifting through the bag. Come on. You weren’t looking while you walked, your body on autopilot while your mind concentrated on getting your boyfriend what he needed. When you could see a yellow label toward the bottom, just barely visible beneath the tubings, fluids, and other pills, you nearly shouted in relief. Bayer Genuine Aspirin. “Thank god. Abe, your canteen.” 

You were already opening the bottle, punching through the seal. “Here.” Abraham tapped the container against your shoulder. With two tablets already in your hand, you took hold of the canteen and motioned for him to unscrew the lid. 

“Thanks.” In the moments of your absence, Daryl had finally succeeded in turning onto his side, legs drawn up, body quaking. “Daryl.” There was no room on his opposite side. He was too close to the doors. “Daryl, I need you to take some meds for me.” The only reply was a groan while he pulled his knees closer to his chest only to jerk them away with a choked off shout, the movement aggravating the wound. “Daryl.” 

“Need me to, uh—” Abe waved a hand toward the whole of Daryl. You knew what he meant. Even as you nodded, you could already hear the grumbled complaints about you allowing him to be manhandled. “Okay, Prince Charming, just need to sit you up a little for these pills. Then we’ll get the fuck out of here.” He started with the left arm, sliding a hand beneath it to roll the archer just enough to work his other hand underneath the opposite arm. “Upsy daisy.” Abraham moved slowly, his eyes telling a tale of worry when Daryl grimaced and groaned. “He’s hotter than a jalapeno’s ass.” His voice was quiet but there was an urgency there. “Give him those pills and then we gotta go.”

He was right. If the fever continued to climb, there was the risk of febrile seizures. No one wanted that to happen. “Here, take these.” You pressed one of the pills to the archer’s bottom lip, a spasm of pain crossing his face.

“Ain’t takin’ your stupid pills.” Daryl snapped—damn near literally—jerking out of Abe’s hold just to fall back into it. You reeled back, just from the sudden movement, not out of fear. Never fear. Not with him.

“Daryl, stop.” You walked on your knees to get a little closer, trying again. “I need to get started on getting that fever down.” Chapped lips pulled away from teeth in a snarl, his hand coming up to slap yours. The tablets disappeared into the shadows. “Daryl, what the—”

“Said I ain’t takin’ your fuckin’ pills, Merle!”

Your breath stuttered, saucer eyes flitting up to Abraham and back down. “It’s Y/N, Daryl. Merle—Merle isn’t here.” The canteen was placed next to the bag of medical supplies, keeping a few feet of distance between that and Daryl, in case he lashed out again.

“Think I dunno s’goin’ on?” Your eyes slid up to Abraham as he lowered himself behind your archer, large hands relocating to grip Daryl’s biceps. “I take the drug’a the week an’ you steal the rent money to get more! Ain’t fuckin’ happenin’!” 

“It’s just aspirin. And it’s just me and Abe here with you.” He tried to lean toward you, halted by the other man’s strong grip. He was too weak to do much about it. “Merle’s not here. Do you remember where he is?” You risked reaching toward him, fever-bright eyes tracking every movement right up until your palm rested on his shin. 

His breathing picked up as he lowered his head. It hung forward with his hair acting as a protective curtain. “Dead.” He rasped. “Merle’s dead.” You would have asked Abraham to let him go but he’d likely topple over without the support. 

“I’m sorry.” You squeezed his leg, tilting your head when his whole body tensed. 

“I hitcha.” The tone of his voice was both incredulous and remorseful. “Y/N, m’so—”

“Mm mm. None of that. You’re hurt. You’re sick. You’re burning up.” There was a sound from behind the double doors. “Daryl.”

“I’ll take ‘em.” 

You didn’t wait for him to change his mind. Shaking two more tablets from the bottle, you ducked your head to encourage him to look at you, the small white tablet was pressed against his bottom lip again. “Come on, love.” The second pill was behind your other three folded fingers. That left your other hand free to grab the canteen. 

His lips parted just as the first walker scratched against the other side of the doors. With time quickly running out, you pressed the pill past his lips, following it up with the second. You rapidly opened the canteen and brought it to his mouth before he could attempt to dry swallow the meds, smiling approvingly when he tilted his chin upward to allow you to help him. That in itself spoke volumes about his current state.

“Let me just rinse the wound and put some gauze over it and we can go.” Another thump had both you and Abraham looking at each door. “Shit.”

“Shit’s right. I think we’re boxed in.” He was careful when easing Daryl back into a supine position, hovering to make sure you asked nothing else of him. “Take care of him. I’ll go take a look at how deep the shit we have to wade through is.”

“Okay.” You nodded, digging through the bags. If there was nothing else, the water from the canteen would have to do until you could get him back to Alexandria. The wound needed disinfecting horribly, but your options were limited. Your lip was becoming sore, indented from your teeth pressing into it while you searched. “Please, please, please.” When your hand wrapped around the bottle of rubbing alcohol, you could have sobbed. Daryl was barely holding on to consciousness when you turned to him, breaking the seal on the bottle cap. “This is gonna suck, baby.”

He didn’t answer. You didn’t really expect it of him. What you did expect was the almost violent reaction the moment the cold burn of the liquid washed over the wound. His eyes flew open with a scream that you were likely to hear in your nightmares. It was easy to catch his shoulder with one hand but keeping him there was another problem entirely. His hands scrambled toward his stomach, fingers clawed as if he could scrape out the lingering sting of the alcohol. Forced to sit the bottle aside, somehow carefully enough not to spill it, you caught his wrists, one and then the other, alternating back and forth to keep his hands away from the festering wound. The doors trembled with the renewed efforts of the dead following the noise. 

“Daryl. Daryl, listen to me. I know it hurts but I just cleaned it. It’ll stop soon.” His head fell against your collarbone with an accompanying whimper that made your eyes burn with moisture. “It’ll stop soon.” He was at least cognizant enough to heed your instructions, his hands falling limply to the floor, only for his nails to scrape back and forth over the concrete. “I need to put a dressing over it, cover it until we get home.”

“We’re boxed in.” Abraham said before even rounding the work table that blocked your view of him. “We need to wait it out and hope they move on.”

Your head was shaking back and forth, chin bumping into Daryl’s temple. “We can’t wait. He needs help now.” You had, at some point, wrapped your arms around the shivering archer, rubbing his back as he panted against your neck. 

“M’okay.” He whispered, likely not loud enough for Abe to hear.

“No, you’re not.” It wasn’t supposed to come out as authoritative as it did but it had the desired result. 

“Okay. M’not.” Daryl agreed, rubbing his fiery forehead against your skin. “M’sorry.”

“Stop it. It’s done.” You let your tone soften. He didn’t need anymore weight on his shoulders. “We just need to get you outta here.”

“You could find a way out. Leave me here, come back for me.” He rasped. You weren’t even sure he was entirely grasping reality at that point. He couldn’t be if he thought that you would ever leave him behind.

“We’re not doing that.” Abe interjected before you could even summon a refusal. “We’ll find a way. Just hang tight, man.” With another glance toward the door you were perched in front of, he looked at you. “You too, buttercup.” With that, he stole the flashlight and began searching the room.

You turned your full attention to Daryl. You couldn’t see enough to cover the wound but maybe you could still fumble through it. Reaching into your bag, you dug through the newly acquired supplies to find the few things you had brought with you. He was moving against you but you thought nothing of it until you heard the distinct clink of his zippo. His hand was vibrating when the flame lit up the small area around you.

“Thank you.” A kiss was pressed against the crown of his head while you relieved him of the lighter and placed it on the floor. The shivering had worsened and you worried again about seizures just as you found the gauze and tape you had brought with you. The rolls were almost spent but you likely had enough to cover the wound at least. “Will you lie back for me?” Daryl nodded silently and let you guide him until he was on his back, body jerking as the cold of the floor seeped through his clothing to cool his feverish skin. His eyes were barely slits. 

It was a quick process, the bandage taped down and his shirt buttoned up. Replacing the lid on the bottle of alcohol, you crawled up to sit above him, pulling his head onto your lap. He turned his face against your stomach and sighed as your fingers carded through his hair, massaging his scalp.

“You’ll be okay.” You have to be.

It had to be hours that had passed, Daryl’s skin cooling only to burn again. He was unconscious, restless and moving constantly; head tossing, fingers flexing, legs drawing up only to straighten. How could you have let him get this bad to begin with? You knew something was wrong and you told no one, thought you could deal with it on your own. He was your boyfriend, your person, and you allowed him to suffer.

“Found a air duct.” 

You startled, causing Daryl to flinch but not wake. “What?” Abe shined the light above your head, jerking it to have you looking up to a series of large ducts that likely led to other areas of the building, maybe ones that were not surrounded by the dead.

“We can crawl through, find an empty room. Go out a window or a door if there is one.”

The idea was sound except you weren’t sure Daryl could move on his own and dragging him would take longer than you were afraid you could afford. “What about Daryl? He can’t—”

“He’ll have to, or I could go. Bring back help, but those rotters are gonna take down those doors sure as my short and curlies match my head.”

I did not need to know that. Regardless, he was right. There was no other way. The doors beside you were trembling as hard as Daryl, soon to buckle under the weight and efforts of walkers seeking a meal. With a deep breath, you nodded. 

“Wake him up.” Abraham ordered softly. “I’m gonna get one of these open.”

Another nod but he was already walking away. Looking down at Daryl, his face completely hidden against your belly, you stroked his cheek. “I need you to wake up.” He shifted and groaned, but didn’t rouse. “Daryl, baby, you’ve got to wake up. We have to get you out of here.”

“M’awake.” His voice was muffled against your flannel, syllables jarring with the shivers wracking his frame. “Where are we?” He took a deep breath while he turned his head, as if he had been suffocating himself against you.

“You don’t remember?” Worry churned in your gut, crawling up into your chest with a sickening grip on your heart. 

“Can’t—can’t think.” His eyes struggled to open, face contorted in discomfort. He began trying to sit up, groaning and hissing through his teeth when you helped. His left arm wrapped around his middle as he looked around. “We—we went on a run.”

“Yeah, and we’re kinda trapped.” He snapped his head around to look at you, swaying slightly. “Dead at both doors. Abe found some grated ceiling ducts that run above. We’re gonna crawl through them and find a spot where we can get out.” You licked your lips and leaned toward him to catch his wandering attention. “Can you do it?”

“Ain’t got no choice.” Bracing his abdomen, he shifted to the side, slowly getting his knees beneath him. When you hastily stood, hands on his ribs, he said nothing against the assistance. 

“Abe, you get one?” You called.

“Almost.” There was a loud clang. “Strike that. Got one.”

“On our way over.” Daryl was on his feet but still doubled over, trembling so intensely that you weren’t sure his legs would hold his weight. “Let me help.” It wasn’t a request. Firmly taking the wrist of the hand he had braced just above his knee, you pulled his arm over your shoulder. The fever was raging beneath his skin, boiling his blood into vapor. He needed the infirmary. Carol could start an IV. You could wipe him down with cold cloths. He could get antibiotics. The wound would need to stay open until the infection was under control. You could do none of those things until you got him back home. “A little further.” You encouraged, barely looking away from him to where Abe was walking toward you.

“We gotta get while the gettin’s good.” He pulled Daryl’s arm away from you, barely letting the archer’s feet touch the ground as he hauled him toward the duct. There was already a crate waiting to give you all enough height to reach.

“Abe,” you said as you studied the escape route, moving around to gather your bag onto your back and toss Daryl’s up and inside. “I need to go first. Then Daryl, then you.” Daryl was dazed, staring at you but seemingly seeing right through you. “I can scout for a door or window. Daryl behind me. If he struggles, I need you behind him so you can push him along.”

His eyes focusing, the archer squinted. “M’fine. Don’t need no pushin’.”

You stepped forward, his slouch against Abraham bringing him to perfect eye level. “If you say m’fine one more time, you won’t need to worry about walkers, Daryl Dixon.” With a huff, you side stepped them and climbed up on the crate, grabbing the edges and hoisting yourself up. “All I’ve heard is m’fine and ain’t nothin’ wrong for days and now you’re half dead and surrounded by walkers. I swear to god, I’m going to throttle you.” You rambled, not really even caring if he heard you. 

Even if he didn’t, Abe did.

“Phew, man. I wouldn’t wanna be you when we get back.” He helped Daryl onto the crate, hands hovering to catch him as the archer began to pull himself up, his arms shaking violently with the effort. Abraham had to duck and let him use his shoulders and back to make it inside.

You crawled forward enough to make room for both men, turning on your side so you could look down to watch. Daryl made it onto his hands and knees, managing to crawl out of the way before he lowered himself gingerly, letting his forehead rest against the cool metal. 

“Alright, girly! We’re all in! Let’s get the fuck outta here.”

You turned without a word, crawling forward. The ducting turned to the left and then the right, bringing you just above a herd, all trying to break through the double doors you had just left behind. Your movements were slow and careful, the drag of Daryl’s pack being nails-on-chalkboard loud.  You didn’t want to attract attention and have them trying to follow the sound. It was fortunate that the combined groans and snarls concealed the movement above but Daryl was struggling.

You looked back, lifting your arm out of the way to get a clear view. He wasn’t crawling. He was on his belly, hooking his fingers into the holes of the grating below to pull himself forward, pushing with his legs as best he could. Abraham was just behind him, telling stories and jokes with a few words of encouragement in between. You needed to move faster, leave them a little behind so you could find a way out.

“He’s flagging, Y/N.” Abraham called out quietly after a few more minutes of crawling and dragging. You stopped again, and looked back. Daryl was barely pulling himself along, his sick and injured body just having no more of it.

“He’s right here.” The man in question groaned. 

“Fuck. Daryl. Daryl, stop.” His body went limp with the exception of his heaving breaths, cheek against grating. “Rest. I’m going to find a way out and I’ll come back.” Abraham nodded from behind the archer, who merely turned his hand with a thumbs up. You left both bags and crawled with purpose, watching the areas below you for walkers, where you would slow down and minimize any sounds. Right, left, left. There were forks in the ductwork. You had to remember how to get back to where you had left the two men. Right, left, left. Your brain repeated as you headed straight. Looking below you, there was a well lit room. It was quiet aside from the distant groans blocked by a door. 

Bingo.

You crawled until you found the opening, lifting the thick metal and turning it so you could drop it to the floor with a clang. You stayed still with bated breath. The door did not jar and the sounds remained distant. Lowering to be flat on your belly, you peeked out to get a full view. The room was empty; an office. A decaying body lay in the corner, jeans and a logoed t-shirt with a gun laying on their chest. Poor bastard. The door would lead out into the halls but there were windows. No shadows passed by in the few minutes you offered. When you felt dizzy from hanging upside down, you wiggled backward. 

With three quick breaths you let yourself fall out and crash to the floor with a decent thud and a groaned ow. It took a moment to catch your breath, your back protesting as you levered yourself to your feet, quickly devising a strategy. The desk was just as heavy as the one in the warehouse area, sliding and catching on carpet this time rather than the smooth concrete. Somehow, you managed to get it in front of the door. 

Climbing onto the desk, you winced at what was bound to be a painful disaster. Keeping your eyes on the edge of the duct, you walked to the far end of the structure. Daryl needs you. Daryl needs you. Daryl needs you. The running start was minuscule but it proved to be enough. While one hand slipped, one latched on and you were dangling from the vent. With nothing and no one beneath you, you had to grab hold with your other hand and pull yourself up. 

“I knew I shouldn’t have faked cramps in PE class.” You grunted. The grates in the bottom of the duct made pulling yourself up a little easier once you could reach them. After what seemed like an eternity, you were finally inside and wasted not a single second, moving hastily, almost clumsily. Left. Right. Right. 

“Daryl. Abe.” You breathed once they were in sight. Abraham, however, stared back at you with concern, stricken. 

“Y/N, I didn’t know what to do.” You shook your head, clueless, and looked at Daryl. He was on his side, breathing in shallow pants. “Turned him on his side, that’s all—”

“Fuck.” Seizure. You crawled past the bags and brushed the hair away from Daryl’s face. The other man was talking, but you didn’t hear him anymore, feeling the inferno beneath the archer’s skin. “We gotta go. You push, I’ll pull.” With Abe’s help, you were able to maneuver the unconscious archer into his back. 

You had a bag hanging from each shoulder, giving you even less room to shuffle properly, but you kept moving, tugging under Daryl’s arms while Abraham pushed upward using the sides of the archer’s knees. It was a long and grueling trek with you whispering to him all along the way. 

“You’ll be okay.”

Just before you were set to pull him again, he groaned. “Y/N?”

“I’m here.” You let go and leaned over him. “I’m right here. Found a way. Just need to get you there.” He gave a noncommittal hum, blinking open tired eyes when a tear hit his cheek. You could have sworn it evaporated. 

“Feel like shit.” He grumbled. Your hands hovered while he made slow work of turning himself over, rising onto his hands and knees. 

“Look like it too, man.” Abe teased. Bless him for trying to lighten things up. 

“Thanks.” Daryl mumbled, raising his head to meet your eyes. “We goin’ or not?” His entire frame shook. 

You wanted to shove more aspirin at him, needed to, but letting him move on his own while he could would get you out of the ducts and closer to the car. “Uh, yeah—yeah, let’s go.” You were actually stuck crawling backwards but it wasn’t the worst thing. It gave you the opportunity to keep an eye on him. He seemed to be doing okay, moving slowly, clumsily, but doing so on his own. In the conscious back of your mind, running on autopilot, you kept up with the ducts. Right. Left. Left. “How’re you doing?” 

“Peachy, sunshine. Just peachy.” There was no bite to the words, just exhaustion and pain. “How much further?” He was tiring again, movements becoming even more sluggish. If he stopped for a break, it was likely you and Abraham would be dragging him again.

“Not much.” You looked over your shoulder, backing around the last turn. “Almost there.” The duct began to grow brighter with the sunlight from the windows below through the missing grate. You looked back just in time to not fall out. “Okay, let me go take a look.” Daryl nodded, remaining on all fours even when his arms seemed barely able to take his weight. 

You slid one bag at a time off your shoulder and out of the opening. Going out feet-first made it so much easier than the first time. You landed easily and pulled the bags with you toward the windows, checking outside and then listening against the door. You didn’t even hear the walkers from earlier. Maybe they had moved on to where the others were trying to break through. 

“It’s clear!” You called up quietly. Before you could offer any insight, Daryl tumbled out of the vent and landed with thud and a sharp exhale. “Jesus, Daryl!” Grabbing beneath his arms, you helped him move out of the way for Abe to tumble out in a similar fashion. “You okay?” You tossed over your shoulder, propping Daryl against the wall to look him over. 

“That was a bitch.”

You cracked a smile and nodded at the archer. “He’s fine.” Daryl snorted weakly. His head dropped back against the wall while you busied yourself with finding the aspirin and the canteen. “Here.” His eyes were barely open, reserves spent. “Come on, baby, work with me here. We still have to get you to the car but I need you to take these first.” Sucking in a breath, he raised his head and opened his mouth. He didn’t even try to take them on his own. This is so bad. You weren’t sure if he even knew what was going on, if he would remember anything after collapsing by the doors.

“Gonna need you to get the car, girly.” 

“What?” You turned, almost spilling the water on Daryl. “Sorry.” You carried on with getting the pills onto his tongue and holding the container for him while he took two long swallows, turning his head away to let you know he was finished. Brushing back his sweaty hair, you leaned in to kiss his forehead and then joined Abe at the window. “I’m not leaving him.” You focused on where the three of you were in proximity to the car, ignoring the look the taller redhead gave you.

“Listen, I know that, to you, no one will ever be better at taking care of him than you,” when you shot him a look, he held up a hand, “but you’re faster and you can get the car to right there at the end of the alley, I can carry him out. You can’t.”

Crossing your arms, you twisted to look back at your boyfriend. He seemed to be caught somewhere between awake and asleep. His skin was pale in direct contrast to the fevered flush on his cheeks and chest. His eyelids were purplish, lips nearly colorless. You didn’t like it, but it was the most logical option.

“Alright.” You whispered, nodding as if responding to yourself. “Alright.” Turning, you dropped your arms and crouched down beside Daryl, digging through his pockets for the keys. “Daryl.” He hummed but didn’t move. “I’ll be right back, okay?” When you stroked a finger down the edge of his jaw, he leaned into the touch, scowling when it pulled away. “I love you.” You wanted to make sure he knew, just in case; wanted him to hear it.

“Me too, sunshine.” He said breathily, face relaxing. You thought he had passed out but then he inhaled deeply and lifted his head, opening dull, unfocused eyes. “Where are we?” You didn’t answer. Keys acquired, you strode purposefully for the windows and opened the nearest one.

Halfway out, you fixed a warning look on Abraham. “Don’t let anything happen to him.”

“Don’t worry ‘bout him. Just worry ‘bout me if he comes to his senses again and you’re not here. Go on, now.”

There was no way you couldn’t smile—because it was true. It didn’t matter what was happening to Daryl, if you were missing, he was razing everything in his path to find out why and where. He might not actually speak the words I love you but he would show you constantly. You were just fine with that. You didn’t need verbal declarations from a man that had literally almost died for you several times over and then shrugged it off like it was no big deal. 

It had been one of those moments that you had bit the bullet, so to speak, and flung yourself into his arms, kissing him breathless. He had turned several shades of red afterward but then things began to change. He was more open with you, wanted to be around you, wanted you to be around him. And then there you were, several months later, and he was yours. You weren’t sure he knew the name of a single woman in Alexandria that wasn’t in your group. He didn’t give any of them a second glance, regardless of how they swooned over him. 

Then your thoughts turned to Denise. She hadn’t really been one of your group, not in the beginning but her love for Tara and tenderness toward all of you had integrated her into the circle of survivors you called family. She had always been kind to Daryl. Making sure he ate and had vitamins—even if he said it looked like shit. She wasn’t afraid of him like so many others had been. 

It was why he was taking her loss just as hard as Tara was.

Your feet touched asphalt outside the window without a sound, something you had picked up from Daryl. Creeping forward, close to the wall, you leaned around the corner toward the parking lot at the same time as pulling one of your knives from the thigh-sheath. The car was within sight. A quick run over and you’d pull it around. You’d have Daryl home and hooked up to an IV before nightfall. Staying low, you continued to stick close to the outside of the buildings. You would only put yourself out in the open when you needed to make the last sprint. Unfortunately for you, you weren’t paying enough attention to the wall you were sliding against.

The open door caught you by surprise, the walker that stumbled out of it, even more so. “Shit!” The old man barrelled into your side, knocking you into a concrete beam and down to the ground, the side of your face dragging over the rough asphalt while your knife went careening. Using your knee, you kept the body held off of you, one hand smacking away the cold, slimy fingers trying to dig into your skin. Your other hand fumbled for your second knife. Abandoning that endeavor, you concentrated on getting the damn corpse off of you. 

With a swift movement, you grabbed the tattered jacket the body still wore and pulled sideways, using the momentum to swing yourself on top of the walker. Obtaining the upper hand, you were able to snatch your knife and drive it through the eye socket with a disgusting squelch. You sat straddled over the body for a moment, catching your breath. The right side of your face burned, the thick coppery scent of blood in the air. 

“Asshole.” You pulled the knife free and stabbed it one more time just for pissing you off. With no other immediate threats, you took the chance to snatch up your other knife and resheath it before your boots pounded the pavement all the way to the car. From over the top, you could see the split up sections of the herd wandering the different alleys next to the building. None of them seemed to be heading to where you had come from, but sometimes they were sneaky bastards and you didn’t know until they were on top of you. Glaring daggers at the body you had left on the pavement, you mumbled “case in point.”

Behind the driver's seat, you started the engine and immediately moved toward the alleyway you had exited, throwing the shifter into park. You heard him before you could even get out of the car.

“The fuck ya let ‘er go out alone?!”

“Calm down, amigo. She’s just gonna get the car and bring—”

“Why didn’t you go get the car?!”

“Someone’s gonna need to carry you when you end up eatin’ shit cause you won’t calm the hell down!”

“M’goin’ to get ‘er.”

“I promised her I wouldn't let anything happen to you.”

“Don’t make promises ya can’t keep. Y’should know there ain’t many ya can anymore.” His voice had quietened but you could hear him moving as you got closer. The window opened just as you stepped below it. Grabbing the pane, Daryl started to haul himself out but stopped with a startled shit! and nearly fell back inside. “Don’t fuckin’ do that!” He hissed.

“Was it your turn to ring the dinner bell, loudmouth?” You grinned, only for it to widen when he flipped you off. “Abe! Toss out the bags. I’ll load them while you help him.”

“Ain’t needin’ no help.” Daryl argued, hand pressed against the side of his stomach while he struggled to climb out the window. Abraham was shaking his head fondly and tossing you the bags through the second window. You juggled all three bags at the same time, throwing them into the trunk. A group of two dozen or saw walkers had ventured out of the alley near the body of the one you’d encountered. 

“Shit.” You made it back just as Daryl’s boots hit the ground. He staggered sideways and bumped into the opposite wall, panting as if he’d run a marathon. “Idiot, you should have let him help.”

“I got it. M’good.” He straightened and put his hands on his hips then crossed them on the top of his head, trying to catch his breath. 

“Baby, you don’t look good.” He didn’t flinch away when you reached for him. It was likely because he had been avoiding your touch to hide the fever, but that cat was long out of the bag. He simply looked miserable, lowering his head when your palm rested against his cheek. “Come on, walkers headed this way.” 

Only then did he seem to notice the blood on your face. “What happened?” His overly warm fingers gripped your chin and turned your head while his other hand slapped flat against the wall to keep him upright. 

“I’ll tell you on the way.” Smiling gently, you turned toward the car, catching the concerned look that came over Abraham’s face.

“I don’t—well, shit!” He bolted past you and caught Daryl under the arms before he could hit the ground. “Open the door, get in the back and help me get him in.” You didn’t need to be told twice. With the back door open, you watched Abe scoop up the archer in a bridal carry that you’d have to remind the man not to tease Daryl about later. With a nervous glance through the back window, you whined at the closing distance between the walkers and the car. 

“Come on, come on.” Abe angled Daryl toward you so you could grab beneath his arms and pull him in with a little help from the other man. He arranged the archer’s legs to hang off the seat while his head was on your lap. The walkers were touching the back of the car by the time Abraham closed the driver’s side door. He said nothing but held a peace sign out the window as the herd grew smaller and smaller in the distance. Finally able to breathe, you kissed Daryl’s forehead and smoothed back his hair. “We’ll be home soon. You’re gonna be okay.”

You were sitting by the window in your room, drinking a hot cup of tea Carol had brought for you after the initial chaos of getting Daryl stable and settled had fizzled out.

There had been two seizures on the way back to Alexandria, his pulse hammering beneath the fire of his skin. Between you and Carol with Rick and Michonne grabbing anything that was needed, an IV was started, Daryl was stripped down and covered with a thin sheet, the wound was debrided, and you had cleaned his skin with cool cloths until the tea was ready.

Carol had gone to do inventory with what hadn’t been used or wouldn’t likely be needed in his recovery, leaving you alone with your archer. Your head fell back against the chair and rolled toward where Daryl lay. The sheet was just above his hip bones, letting air get to the freshly cleaned wound until the inflammation was down enough to be stitched—if it could be at all. His color was a little better, improved after only an hour of fluids.

He groaned, heading lulling toward you, a spasm of pain fluttering over his features before he relaxed again. Abandoning the mug on the window sill, you dragged your exhausted body to sit on the edge of the mattress and wrung out the cloth over the bowl next to the bed. The fever was still present but likely to improve now that he was resting and receiving antibiotics, the fluids keeping him hydrated against what the heat stole from him. 

He groaned again, eyelids fluttering but not opening. “Ssh.” You hushed, wiping down his face and neck. “We’re home. We’re safe.” He remained still, but you continued to soothe him. “I’m here, baby.”

He didn’t stir again until deep in the night, eyes blinking open to find you sitting in a chair next to the bed, thumb stroking the top of his hand. 

“Y/N.” He croaked, grimacing. Clearing his throat, he tried again with the same result. 

“Let me get you some water.” You used your free hand to push against the chair arm but his fingers tightening their hold brought you to a halt. Brow drawing inward, you sat back down. 

“M’fi—” He visibly choked down the words at your withering expression. “Yeah. Water, uh—uh, please.” He cleared his throat again and coughed. When his fingers loosened around your hand, you got up and went downstairs. 

Carol came in the door while you filled the glass, walking past the kitchen before stepping backwards to peek her head in. “Hey.” 

Tiredly, you returned the greeting, sitting the glass on the counter as she approached. With a gentleness that you needed, she rubbed circles on your back. 

“Go easy on him.”

You tossed your head back with a sigh. “I know.” Leaning forward onto your elbows, you rubbed your hands over your face. “I’m just so angry with him, Carol. He could’ve died.” Her soft ministrations continued. 

“You both need some rest. He needs to heal and you need to forgive him.”

With a smile that was hard to summon through your exhaustion, you picked up the glass and took her hand, squeezing it before letting go. “I already did.” 

Your feet dragged with each step up the stairs, finding Daryl still awake when you entered the bedroom. “Can you sit up?” 

“Think so.” His voice scraped across his vocal chords and he winced. His arms shook but you waited him out, letting him do it himself since he seemed to be fully aware. 

“Here.” His hand trembled but he managed to drink on his own as well. 

“Better?” You took the glass, sitting it on the bedside table. He responded with a quiet mhm and leaned forward so you could pile the pillows up behind him. “Daryl.” You could see the dread in his expression. 

“M’sorry.” He picked at the skin around his thumbnail, looking down at his lap. 

“I know. Daryl, look at me.” You caught his wrist as his thumb was in route to his mouth. Swallowing hard, he looked the other way entirely. “Baby, look at me.” The flush that was already present on his face grew darker, but he finally acquiesced to your request. “I’m not mad at you, but you scared me.”

“I know.”

You leaned toward him and brushed back his hair. “You can’t keep doing this to yourself. I know what happened, it—it hurt, but Daryl, it wasn’t your fault.”

“Why ain’t it, Y/N? Shouldn’a took her out there. Shouldn’a—” His voice cracked. 

“It was her choice to go. She wanted to go.” Your hand left his hair to rest against his cheek. He absently leaned into the touch but didn’t move when you saw the realization flitter across his face. “You took a bullet to try and stop them. You did all you could.”

“Wasn’t enough.” He whispered, turning his head away from your palm. You felt anger rising up, itching to crawl out of your throat in the form of harsh words. The silence was deafening, the tension smothering. With a deep breath into your nose and out of your mouth, you remembered what you had told yourself. 

“You don’t have to carry this alone. I know—I know what you do to—what you allow yourself to go through feels like a penance, but if you’d just let me, I can carry some of that weight.” He chewed his bottom lip, shifting slightly until he winced, his hand almost covering the open wound before he caught himself. “That’s what friends do, Daryl.” When he lowered his head, you ducked to hold his gaze. “It’s what couples do.”

When he released his lip, red and indented from the press of his teeth, his chin wobbled, nose twitching and eyes squinting against the tears that threatened to fall. “Ain’t—” he swallowed and sniffed, turning his head even further from you. “Ain’t yours to carry.”

You didn’t hesitate. “If it weighs on you, then it weighs on me. Let me help you. Let me be there.” Standing, you took the two small steps that brought you to where he sat, your fingers tenderly stroking his cheek before you gripped his chin and willed him to look at you. “Let me love you right.”

You had only seen Daryl cry twice; when he lost Merle and after the self inflicted burns when Beth was taken too soon. He hadn’t yet cried for Denise or for Tara. You weren’t sure he ever would. 

Then the dam broke. 

It started as a shaky breath, a whimper, but then his head dropped, his shoulders jerking with each sob. You said nothing while walking away, placing a hand on the knob to close the door. Carol was in the hallway, a towel on her arm, heading to shower, when she caught your eye. Her smile was sad, tight-lipped but she nodded. You returned the gesture and closed the door. 

Daryl had drawn up his right knee, his elbow pressed into it so his hand was over his face. There wasn’t much room on the side he was occupying, so you lifted the tubing for his IV and crawled up to sit on the other side, pulling him against you without protest, his face against your collarbone. 

“It’s okay. It's just us.” You whispered into his hair. “It’s just you and me and I’ve got you.” It was impossible to hold back your own tears, listening to him release all that pain, everything the wound only delayed. So you held him tight, weeping into his hair and letting him cry until his energy waned, his breaths evening out. 

“M’gonna try.” He whispered suddenly, causing you to startle. 

“Try?” You brushed his hair back and angled your head to see the side of his face. 

“Try to—gonna try to letcha help.” He sniffled and nuzzled against your skin. “Letcha be there.”

“I’ll always be there. Promise.” 

His arm wound around your middle and held tight. “Don’t make promises ya can’t keep.” You laid your cheek on the top of his head. 

“I’m not, baby.” His head tilted back, forcing you to move, but your lips instantly pressed against his forehead. He looked so vulnerable, so tired, but yet so much lighter. “I’m not.”

#murda writes #daryl dixon #the walking dead #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl dixon whump #Spotify

[all-purpose-dish-soap]

30 / 1.1k / soap soulmate au, part 7

...

The minutes tick by. You're alone with your thoughts. It's worse than before. But what are you supposed to tell him? All but the smallest thing you could give him would lead his entire team to Captain Graves, and you... you can't do that. You owe him a debt.

The door slams open and Soap walks back in, looking tired and angry. Before you can speak, he grabs you by the arm, drags you out of your chair, and then he's kissing you, pressing you up against the wall. His hands are in your hair and on your hips, his hard body against yours, his teeth finding the place where your neck meets your shoulder.

Everything about it is possessive, angry, desperate. One hand slides around to your ass. The other weaves tighter into your hair, holding you tight between him and the wall, his hips grinding into yours.

"Thought I was gonna have to wait till you stopped being so damn stubborn. You were never going to tell me, were you?" His soft growl is low, heated, and hurt. "You’re always gonna keep this to yourself. Even if it means letting me go to my grave."

He pulls you away from the wall and pushes you into the metal interrogation table with enough force to put you on your back. He advances on you. Straddles you. His mouth is hot and he's not giving you time to think. He's taking what he needs because he wants it, he's tired of waiting for it, and he's finally got you where he wants you. His teeth on your throat have you arching your back. His grip is tight but you don't want to escape.

His fingers dig into you. "Will you even miss me?"

You open your eyes, jolting in place. A dream, it was a dream. You're still cuffed to this stupid chair. You're hot and wet and there's a horrible knot in your throat.

The door slides open. That's what woke you--activity outside. A few people filter into the weapons closet briefly to grab rifles and sidearms. They hardly spare you looks. They leave; the voices outside begin to fade and you hear an engine firing up. Muted panic rises in your gut. They're about to leave. Are they leaving you here? Is Johnny gone already?

Then the door rattles softly and Johnny's familiar shape slips in. He glances back out the door, watching for anyone who might’ve seen him slip in before he closes it. You release a breath through gritted teeth.

"Mornin’.” Soap is suited up, radioed, armed to the teeth. Looking every inch the soldier he is. Your heart sinks. You're in deep. No matter how this situation turns out, it's not good for you. Whoever wins, you lose.

Instead of taking the chair, he circles behind you. You rattle your cuffs as he leaves your line of sight.

"Change your mind?" he asks you.

"No."

He chuckles. "Thought not."

He bends closer. Your heart races. You half-expect to feel his hands--your dream flashes through your mind--but then, to your surprise, you hear the soft clink of metal on metal. He pulls on the cuffs. One falls away. Then the other.

You get to your feet, curling and uncurling your fingers. "Why are you letting me go?" you ask, voice still sharp. "I told you I'm not helping you."

Soap looks bemused. It's like you don't know how to stop being belligerent even when you're not a hostage anymore. "Don’t know what you’re talkin’ about. I’m under strict orders not to let you leave this room. But if you just so happen to vanish..." He holds up the key--the one he'd swiped from Ghost earlier. "That’d be fine with me.”

“What are you playing at?”

“There's a chance none of us will come back. Don't like the idea of you sittin' here like a rabbit in a trap for God knows how long." He holds out a neat little square of folded cash. When you don't take it, he reaches around and slips it into your back pocket. "There's a town four miles southwest of here. Set off in a half hour and you’ll get there before sundown. Take somethin' off the wall to protect yourself."

You stare at him, your frustration growing with every word he says. Why does he trust you enough to free you? Why? He knows very well you could pick up the first phone you see, call your Captain, and tell him everything. Hell, you could call Shepherd.

You tried your dead fucking best to show him who you are. Why doesn't he believe you? Does he think you're going to grab his hand and ask him to come with you--fuck the Shadows, fuck Las Almas, you know how to buy fake IDs and burner phones, you'll figure it out a day at a time?

Your throat tightens. You could obviously never say that. And if you did consider it, you'd bite your tongue because there's no way he'd accept. You have so much to gain from running away and he has too much to lose. He cares about his team too much.

He skims his gloved fingertips up your arm and goes to touch your cheek again, but then he hesitates and stops himself. You feel radioactive.

"How 'bout a kiss for the road?" he asks. He seems to decide on taking a strand of your hair and places it tentatively behind your ear. "Just in case."

Your hands tighten into fists. How dare he.

"Aw, c'mon. Don't make me walk away from you disappointed." He gives you a small, infuriating smile.

"If you want a kiss, then come back for it when you're done."

"Ah. Fair enough."

He brings his hands up to the sides of your face and presses his lips to your hairline anyway, leaning into you for a long, silent moment.

Then he's gone.

…

You sit cross-legged on that table for a long stretch of time, spinning in one hand the handcuffs that held you. You stare at that photograph and count the seconds. At thirty minutes, you set off, walking southwest.

...

part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5 / part 6 / [part 7] / part 8

more Soap / masterlist tag

#soulmate soap #mine #story #soulmate au #fem reader #john soap mactavish #johnny soap mactavish #soap cod #johnny mactavish #soap mactavish #soap x reader #x reader #soap x you #johnny mactavish x reader #johnny mactavish x you #cod #cod x reader #call of duty #call of duty x reader #cod mw2 #cod mwii #tf 141 #tf 141 x reader

[selineram3421]

*wishing I could breathe underwater* Man..

Other Worldly

Part 3

Part 2

Alastor X Shy Reader

Warnings ⚠

⚠ selectively mute reader, Italics=thoughts, shaking head= no, signing-ASL, Alastor being weird ⚠

"Let's make a deal~"

You froze.

All you could do was stare at the Radio Demon's red eyes with panic.

He heard me sing again. Why? I thought I was being careful. I made sure to be far away from the others. I checked the room!

"Now, now. There's no need for you to cry.", he said, brushing away a tear that was beginning to fall down your cheek.

Shaking your head side to side, you shoved your way out of his hold and glared at him.

"What do you want.", you spoke. "Tell me the truth."

You saw the way your hypnosis made his eyes glaze over. It was like a fog clouding his sight with swirls of green.

"I want you to sing for me.", he answered.

It took you by surprise.

No one wanted to get hypnotized, it was uncomfortable and made others on edge. You didn't like making anyone feel like that.

"Why?", you asked.

"I enjoy it. Your voice is not only hypnotizing, but it is absolutely lovely.", he confessed.

Your eyes widened and you turned away from the deer demon to hide your blush.

He didn't have to say all that. You thought and covered your smile mouth.

Then you felt a clawed hand on your shoulder.

.

"Sing for me...", Alastor began, circling the mer like a shark. "..and I'll give you the option of controlling that ability of yours."

He stopped just behind them and leaned in close to whisper in their ear.

"You'll be able to communicate normally."

They flinched away but he held them still by placing his hands on their upper arms.

"Think about it my dear~", he leaned his head against theirs. "It's quite the deal."

The selectively mute demon was stiff in his hold, but he didn't want that.

"I just want to listen to you sing, nothing else.", he reassured. "And you'll get to use a private open space to sing."

"An open space?", they parroted.

His smile widened as the familiar daze took over.

I've got them~

"It's free for you to use.", he said as soon as the hypnosis wore off.

"What's the catch?", they asked.

"The only catch is on my end. I don't own your soul.", he replied.

To them it wasn't a bother, but to him it meant that he couldn't keep them. It was a step to making them more comfortable around him however.

Then they started to move their head, causing him to lift his off of their's.

With a glance over their shoulder, they look at him with a shy expression.

"Can I see it?", they asked quietly.

It took a while for him to come back, the hypnotism really was a bother.

"Certainly."

With a snap of his fingers, the two demons appeared in a different area, the Radio Demon paid close attention to the siren's face as they took in their surroundings. Seeing their eyes sparkle was enough of an answer for him.

"Do we have a deal?", he asked, patiently waiting with his hand outstretched.

"I have some things to add before accepting.", they turned to face him.

"And what are your demands?", he asked after a bit, curious.

"I will sing for you once a week.", the mer said.

"Once a day.", he threw in his own.

Their brows furrowed. "Once a week.", they repeated.

"In order for this deal to work, I need to be able to hear you sing everyday, at least once to let you use your powers as you wish.", he explained.

It was a lie but they didn't need to know that.

"I'd like to be alone when using this space.", they moved on.

"Are the shadows free to roam here? They will be near to help you if anything.", he questioned. "Of course, I will only show myself around here if I need to call on you or emergencies."

"I-. Hm..", they started but then thought more about what he said. "That's fine.. As long as the shadows don't bother me."

"Splendid!", his smile widened.

"And stop trying to scare me.", they said with a frown.

He blinked and laughed.

"Hahaha!", he wiped a tear from his eye. "Is that all?"

They nodded before shaking their head no.

"This deal stays between us. No one else has to know about it.", they said before lifting their hand, ready to shake on it.

"Very well my dear, it's a deal.", he took their hand and completed the deal.

While the familiar green wisps of magic floated around in the air, something came up from the siren's throat and they began to cough. They covered their mouth with their free hand, coughing even more before something glowing yellow came out and into their hand.

"Well, that's new.", was all he said before taking the yellow glowing ball from their hand. "I suppose you wouldn't mind if I kept this half somewhere safe?", he glanced back at them.

They shook their head, holding their throat with a slight pained expression.

"Alright then.", he said and swallowed the glowing ball.

"WHY!?", they said in shock before hissing in pain.

"I'm not going to leave something like this in a box, and the safest place is with me, obviously.", he explained and finally let go of their hand. "Now, try not to speak too much. I can see that taking out half of your voice hurt more than I thought it would."

The mer nodded and rubbed their throat.

.

You didn't expect him to eat it.

That was weird and a little gross. You thought as you rubbed your throat.

"You'll start tomorrow.", he spoke up and started to walk off.

Before thinking it through, you had grabbed the sleeve of his coat.

He looked back and you furrowed your brows as you moved your hand with your index finger up, side to side. (Where?)

"Are you saying no? To what?", he asked.

You rolled your eyes and took his hand, facing his palm up while tracing what you wanted to say with your finger. (Where are you going?)

"To the front of my hotel room of course."

It took you a second to process what the deer demon just said.

HIS WHAT!?

The red dressed demon just grins, and pulls you along with him, walking between the trees and to a spot that is split in half of greenery and a slightly dark room, the only bright source of light coming from the fireplace.

He let you go and opened the hotel door for you. "I'll let you go now, do come by tomorrow. I wish to hear your lovely singing in the morning."

You didn't really hear what he said, just walked out of the room with slight annoyance.

Can't take it back now. I already made the deal. You sighed and walked over to the elevator down the hallway. At least I'll be able to talk to the others a bit.

Maybe this deal wasn't the worst..but he could have told you that the "free open space" was half of his room.

*vibrating in excitement* It's MerMay 🦀

~Seline, the person.

Part 4

Taglist@

@c4rved-pumpk1n @scary-noodlesblog @stolas-thebirb @naelys-the-aster @biromanticboba @lbcreations-blog @ducky-died-inside @kiraisastay @pooplyface1423 @line-viper @117s-girl @spiderlegsling @alastorsgoldie @repentant-repeller @kcsketches @lofasofabread @kotaleee @im-coolrat @superzombiewho @speckle-meow-meow @jammcookie @dilucragnvindr-my-beloved @trashbin-nie @koioli @fatherlesschild2 @mmik3yy @just-here-reading @nealeart @hudiexiaoying @crystal-multiplefandomlover @glowinggoldfish0 @tiredgamerhere @fluffy-koalala @valenfawkes @willowshadenox @aria-tempest @alastor-simp @nonetheartist @gallantys @i-3at-kidz @luxky-aish @ceafighter @xalygatorx @xangel-8 @big-brother-problems @mistpurpl3 @chewbrry @willowbrookhoot @briethekitsune @+?

(The rest of the taglist is in the comments)

ML I Alastor 🎙️ | OW ChL🦀

#alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor the radio demon #hazbin hotel #the radio demon #x reader #gn reader #alastor x reader #shy reader #mer reader #siren reader #merperson reader #hazbin hotel fanfiction #fanfic #hazbin fanfic #a deal is made #mermay #yay

[kangnina]

Rich!Jungwon 7

Jungwon Masterlist

Now playing - Desire by ATEEZ; It's You by ATEEZ

 Everyone was shocked by the sudden death of Jungwon’s father, including you. Although Jungwon didn’t say it, you know he regrets not having the opportunity to repair the rift between them. The funeral was suspiciously fast, small and private for a world renowned entrepreneur. But you kept that opinion to yourself, as it was already hard enough on Jungwon. He wasn’t given the time to properly mourn before he was catapulted into complete ownership of Yang International. Your mother-in-law tried her best to guide Jungwon based on what she knew about YI. Even she wasn’t prepared for how overwhelming her late husband’s job would be for her college aged son. There was little to nothing you could do to help. You offered words of encouragement. Yet ultimately, you decided to stay out of the way until the dust settled. Jungwon would be gone before you wake up and he’d come home after you were asleep. He often left gifts so that you’d know you were always on his mind. He would text you when he had a moment to breathe. But of course, you missed him. You missed how much simpler things were before you got married.

“Wow, I never thought I’d be allowed to set foot back in here. Or if I ever did, I thought I’d get a bullet in my ass,” Sunoo says, unpacking his grocery bags. “Geez, Sunoo. We’re not the mafia,” you laugh. You were bored and lonely so you called him over for dinner. “Are you sure?” He whispers to you after glancing over at Franklin who is on the phone, clearly giving someone a report of what you’re currently up to. You shrug. At this point, you don’t care. For weeks, your husband has been non-existent and you still don’t have a clue who is supposedly out to get you. Having the only friend you have left come over for dinner makes life not suck so much right now. Sunoo’s visit lifted your spirits for a few hours and you agreed to make it a regular weekly event.

But when night comes, you are in your giant bed, staring at the ceiling. ALONE, yet again. You wouldn’t have even known Jungwon came home except for the fact that he yelled your name like a madman when he walked through the front door just after midnight. It scared the shit out of you. Franklin helped him up the stairs. You meet them at the landing, apologizing to Franklin as you take a hold of him and usher him into your bedroom. You close the door and remove your robe. Jungwon falls back onto the bed, his face flushed. Ears red. Clearly drunk. As you try to pull off his shoes and socks, he rambles on about an ungrateful client he had to wine and dine to keep happy. You reach up to unbuckle his pants and he playfully growls, pulling you on top of him. “All work and no play! I miss my beautiful wife!” He’s grabbing your ass and kissing you as you try to get up and finish preparing him for bed. “Kiss me! I miss you. Don’t you still love me, Jagiya?” he whines, looking at you with glossy eyes. “Yes, I love you Jungwon,” you say softly, giving him a quick kiss to reassure him. His phone rings in his pants pocket. He grumbles while fumbling for it. Once he yanks it out, he yeets it somewhere in the room where it lands with a loud thud and then silence. “GOOD! I hope it’s broken. I fuckin' hate that thing. It never stops ringing. I can’t even take a fuckin' piss in peace,” he says, running his hands over his face. He is in rare form and you can’t help but laugh at his unfiltered state. Hearing your laughter, Jungwon smiles at you, once again grabbing your ass and grinding up against you. His voice is soft, almost a whisper: “Please Jagiya. I miss you so much. Your laugh. Your kisses. Your body. Please. Let me fuck you baby. Please.”

It’s been a while since you’ve heard him speak to you like this. Every time he does it – you’re immediately down bad. You know he’s drunk but it couldn’t hurt if he wants it just as badly as you do. You kiss him gently but he’s urgent and desperate. His wine flavored tongue eagerly plays with yours as you unbuckle his pants and reach into his briefs to stroke him. Jungwon closes his eyes and moans against your lips. He’s pent up and so are you. You both know it. When you pull away to remove your nightie and underwear, he clumsily pulls off his dress shirt over his head. He’s so cute fumbling with his pants. You giggle and he smiles. Dimples deep because it’s music to his ears. You help him pull off his underwear before climbing back on top of him, grinding your pussy against his hard cock making him moan as he sucks on your nipples. He gives one a gentle bite making you flinch and mewl. “Don’t tease me, Jagiya. I need to fuck you,” he grabs his cock and presses into you, lifting his hips. You both groan in unison as you sink deeper. You rest your hands on his pecs, forearms on his abs as you lift your hips up and down, riding him slowly. You love the feel of every inch in and out. You want to savor it and make love. But Jungwon is impatient and needy. He wants to hear you scream his name while he makes you lose your goddamn mind. He grabs your ass with both hands and puts his feet on the bed, bending his knees. Lifting his hips to fuck up into you. “Oh fuck. Fuck. FUCK.” The angle is so perfect it has you clinging to his shoulders, digging your nails into his hot flesh. Vibrating, on the verge of cumming in a few thrusts. He grins, watching you collapse on to him, your body shaking as your cream on his cock. Jungwon rubs small circles on your back as you catch your breath. “I love you,” you kiss him as you start to roll your hips again, still clenching around his thickness. “Mmm, I love my greedy little Jaigya,” he chuckles. You run your fingers up his neck and into his hair. “So greedy,” you look into his eyes as you rock your hips faster. “Ooh, baby I’m close,” he says, cock twitching and filling you up within a matter of seconds. You feel his abs tense beneath you as his pretty eyes squeeze shut but you keep going. “Mmm baby. Please.” he says, biting his lip. Your fingers grip a little tighter in his hair. You clench around his softening cock. “Jagiya, ah ah ah,” he hisses from the overstimulation. Jungwon opens his eyes, brows furrowed with an intense gaze burning into you as he smacks your ass, grabbing it hard, to hold you still. “Don’t be a bad girl.” You kiss him softly, whispering, “It’s been so long. I just want every single drop of you, Wonie.”

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

@nyfwyeonjun @maymarrylhs @nyxtwixx  @ilabjungwon @enha-ism @belowbun @mydearestwonnie @woniesprincess04 @esiromi @crispysharkwizard @snoopypupp @moonlightndaydreams @daydreams-after-dark  @wildflowermooon @emi-en

#yang jungwon smut #jungwon smut #enha smut #enhypen smut #enhypen hard hours #enha hard thoughts #enha hard hours #enhypen hard thoughts #jungwon #enha #kpop imagines #kpop smut #enhypen #yang jungwon x reader #jungwon x reader #yang jungwon #jungwon enhypen #enhypen jungwon #jungwon scenarios #enha x reader #enha fluff #enha imagines #enhypen scenarios #enhypen yang jungwon #jungwon fluff #jungwon x you #enha scenarios #enhypen au #enha au #jungwon au

[guardian-angle22]

Happy to present to y'all this 911LS fic list for stories related to one of my favorite episodes 3.13 Riddle of the Sphynx! I try to make these as comprehensive as possible, so if you have any you think I missed, let me know so I can add them. (I also might make edits to these posts to add more fics as they get written. If I ever do so I'll be sure to reblog the post for visibility!)

Enjoy all of our amazing fandom writers and leave them some comments & love!

[Disclaimers: • If you're an author and don't like to be tagged or linked for any reason, let me know and I'll remove the tag and make sure not to do so in the future, no questions asked. • I usually post TWs in rec lists. Due to the episode subject matter, assume all of these have a TW for discussion of addiction/drug use and possibly discussion of parent death/grief.]

◆ Chasers by @carlos-in-glasses (Words: 13.4K; Rating: E)

After 3x13 – while TK is alone with Cooper, Carlos is alone with his thoughts. Both recall times they’ve chased the next high, other men, or each other. When Carlos arrives home, TK still has something important to say – and it's something he didn’t tell Cooper.

◆ trying my best by @reyescarlos (Words: 10.3K; Rating: M)

An exploration of TK's sobriety journey from 2017 to now. Or, a season 3 coda spanning 3x08-3x13

◆ You Showed me How it feels to Truly be Seen by @ramblingdisaster73 (Words: 3K; Rating: T)

Carlos works through the events of 3x13 "The Riddle of the Sphinx".

◆ Measure of a Man by @chicgeekgirl89 (Words: 1.8K; Rating: T)

“I want to be everything you need. That I can’t be, it hurts, T.K. It feels like a failure on my part. And as much as I’m trying to accept it, it’s hard.” A 3x13 coda in which Carlos struggles with a new definition of being "enough."

◆ I'll be here all the same by @strandnreyes (Words: 4.8K; Rating: G)

“I am glad you have someone you can talk to who can maybe do a better job at fixing things,” Carlos insists before dropping his eyes to their tangled together fingers. “All I want is for you to be okay.”It’s not surprising to hear, but it hits as if it was. That really is the root of this whole thing. As much as Carlos wants to do what he can to be the person to get TK to that place, at the end of the day all he really wants is for TK to get there.“I will be.”Or, three late night conversations following the events of 3.13

◆ Trigger by comes2gusu (Words: 4.7K; Rating: T)

TK is struggling with his newly found sobriety. After being triggered at an NA meeting, Cooper takes TK for omelets

◆ this love we carry by @thevenstar (Words: 7.6K; Rating: T)

A 3x13 coda in which Carlos has a conversation with a friend, puts his heart to rest, and learns that walking away does not mean surrender.

◆ Those Pieces by @taralaurel (Words: 7.3K; Rating: M)

"I, I'm not telling you all - this - so you can fix me," TK huffs a hot breath against Carlos' chin, "or save me or really, do anything, okay?" Carlos nods against TK's forehead. TK has done a lot of things in his life to deserve the bad that has happened to him. He has no idea what good he's done to deserve Carlos. Coda to 3x13

◆ the one i want by @chaotictarlos (Words: 2K; Rating: E)

TK gets Carlos to take his shirt off.

◆ i want you to unravel me by @reyescarlos (Words: 4.2K; Rating: E)

In the aftermath of the strain that's fallen over them, TK and Carlos bridge the gap with open conversation that brings them closer together, both emotionally and physically. [3x13 coda]

◆ Just Wanna Breathe by @theoceanismyinkwell (Words: 1.9K; Rating: G)

Carlos doesn’t dare look at him for long, knowing that his eyes have always been the window to his soul, the weakest part of his body, unveiling everything in the well of truths he’s kept a lid on for years and years. His family may not be able to read him as well as he feared for the decades he was in the closet, but TK has a way of crashing into his life with a formidable gentleness and a piercing understanding that unmoors him in every possible way.And that’s precisely what TK is doing now, keeping the warmth of his palms flush against the beating of Carlos’ skin, cradling his face, forcing them both to gaze into each other’s eyes and face each other’s unspoken terrors without flinching.TK sounds like he has a lump in his throat. “I’m going to say something, and I want you to listen to me and I want you to remember it.”---Or: What happens when Carlos comes back home after TK's talk with Cooper, and the confessions that spill out after.

◆ waiting on the sidelines by @morganaspendragonss (Words: 1.5K; Rating: T)

They’d promised each other no more secrets, and while Carlos rationally knows that these aren’t exactly secrets, there’s still this grain of resentment inside of him that scratches away with every beat of his heart. It’s something he can’t let show in front of TK ever again, which is why he’s here, outside Owen's house while TK and Cooper talk in the loft.If anyone’s going to understand what he’s feeling, it’s Owen Strand.

◆ Three Weeks In by @masterroadtripper (Words: 3K; Rating: T; TW: self-harm)

It’d been three weeks since Sadie had drugged them - nineteen days since TK started a ninety-day NA sobriety program at the local Synagogue and eleven days since Carlos had met Cooper for the first time - before Carlos realized that there was something else TK wasn’t telling him.

◆ What We Need by Ehm (Words: 3.1K; Rating: T)

"You okay, bud?" Cooper startled him out of his thoughts and he let go of the spoon with a clinking noise. He straightened up, embarrassed. "Sorry, I zoned out." "I can see that," Cooper sounded vaguely amused. "You wanna talk about it?" --- Three times TK has a conversation with Cooper, and one time he talks to Carlos. Or, 3x13 and beyond from TK's point of view.

◆ Nocturne by @sanctuaryforalluniverses (Words: 735; Rating: T)

Carlos comes home. (Post-ep for 3x13)

◆ Precious Love by @rmd-writes (Words: 11.6K; Rating: M)

This is five times TK thinks he doesn’t deserve love and one time he knows he does – an exploration of TK’s relationship with love and self-worth.

◆ Inside a snow globe by @goodways (Words: 6.9K; Rating: E)

It isn’t until TK is on top, lavishing Carlos’ neck, stroking his hand up his side, that Carlos brings their faces together, barely a suggestion of a kiss between them. He holds TK’s jaw and keeps him close whilst he readies the question in his mind. He breathes out a straightforward and tempting, “fuck me,” over TK’s lips which silences the world outside their bedroom. TK’s response whenever he’s asked for this has few variations between immediate enthusiastic compliancy and the sweet reassurance he knows Carlos is dying for. The answer is always yes. - The evening after TK gets his one month sobriety chip.

◆ my home has been your heart since the day i met you by @lavendergiroux (Words: 1.8K; Rating: M)

After Carlos leaves Cooper and TK to talk, all they do is talk about him. When Carlos comes home - they are still talking about him.

◆ Deep Talks and Cuddles by raniaswritings (Words: 1.2K; Rating: T)

TK talks to Cooper and Carlos comes back home after a few hours

◆ “What are you doing?” “I don’t want you to do that.” by @irispurpurea (Words: 1.1K; Rating: T)

Fictober 2022 Day 13 and 14. Prompts: “What are you doing?” “I don’t want you to do that.” “What are you doing?” Carlos looks up to find TK frowning at him from their bedroom. “I…” Carlos holds up the blanket in his hands, unsure what else to say. He thinks it’s pretty obvious what he’s doing. Then again, tonight has proven that he can’t do anything right, apparently, when it comes to TK.

◆ "It's your shirt..." by @lavendergiroux (Words: 780; Rating: M)

TK really didn't want to talk about it, he just really needed Carlos to claim him...

◆ sunkissed face by mooshkat (Words: 1K; Rating: T)

To show his appreciation, TK decides to make Carlos breakfast.

Spec Fics Written Prior to the Episode Airing/Canon Convergence:

◆ if the darkness comes, i'll stay by @doublel27 (Words: 3.2K; Rating: T)

“I had some things to do,” TK says, his stomach twisting. “Some things?” “Carlos, I texted,” TK reminds his boyfriend, because he did. “It’s fine.” “Is it?” Carlos asks, his voice dangerously calm. or TK comes home late for the third night in one week, and he and Carlos have a necessary confrontation. A speculative fic for 3x13.

◆ Caught by @littlemissmarianna (Words: 761; Rating: G)

“Who’s that?” Carlos doesn’t answer Mitchell’s question because he doesn’t know. There’s only a handful of people he can identify from the back, and this guy isn’t on the list. He has broad shoulders, though, and nice hair and is probably good-looking. Why else would TK be staring at him so intently?

◆ In Order to Get Back to Us by reyestrand (Words: 2.2K; Rating: G)

Carlos waits up for TK when he’s late coming home and they talk about the things they’re afraid to. - a 3x13 speculation fic

◆ still comparing your past to my future by @kiras-sunshine (Words: 17.4K; Rating: T)

Something else than the wallowing feeling of uneasiness, anxiety and hurt in the bottom of his stomach. All of it seems to have a chokehold on his heart and no matter what he tries to think about, his thoughts always go back to TK, to worry that keeps mixing in with everything, and the brightness of TK’s smile, the way the corner of his mouth curled up and his eyes shone, when he smiled at someone else than him.

#911 lone star #911 lone star fic rec #fic recs #fic rec list #tarlos fic #episode: s3e13 riddle of the sphynx #fic writers are amazing and we need to hype them up #my gifs #cutting it close on finishing up this list while still on the rewatch week for it!

[hazbinfallinginaspiral]

Toys (Vox x Brat!reader)

I’m back on my bullshit again! This time, with more Vox smut! It’s been a bit, so it might be lower quality than usual, I haven’t decided. This is also technically within the Be a Doll universe, it’s just not with doll!reader, this is a different one.

CW: smut, obviously. Degradation, Bondage- okay, just BDSM overall, overstimulation, sex toys, etc. you get the idea.

I stepped into Vox's office and saw him sitting in front of a bunch of TV's showing different views around hell. He didn’t even bother to look at me.

"What the hell do you want? I'm busy!”

“You’re the asshole that called me in!” I muttered, throwing my hands in the air, exasperated. “God, why do you have to be such a dick all the time?”

The TV demon chuckled at my frustration, finally tilting his head to look me in the eyes. "Ah, there you are. I did call you in, didn't I?" He paused, his grin growing wider. "Come here, babydoll. I need your help with something.”

“Sure. Fine. Whatever,” I mumbled walking over. I didn’t notice the bulge in his pants. “I just don’t get an apology? Great. Fantastic. You’re such a fucking prick, you know that?”

I continued to walk closer and closer to the demon, who watched you hungrily. He licked his lips as I finally got to him. "Apologies? I never apologize." He took my hand and gently placed it on the noticeable bulge in his pants.

I immediately pulled away. “Fuck!” I yelped, taking a step back. I hadn’t been expecting that. I was new, a new worker, a new assistant, a new soul of his. I didn’t know how things worked around here. “You can’t- don’t- stop that! No, no, no! This is not something I’m helping you with. No.”

Despite my protests, the demon's grin only got wider. His grip around my wrist tightened as he guided my hand back to his pants. "Oh, come on now doll. Don't be shy. You know you want to." His voice was low and sultry.

“I really don’t,” I muttered, struggling against his grip. Okay, so maybe I did want him. maybe I got off, imagining him fucking me sometimes- sometimes being nearly every single goddamn time I masturbated. That was irrelevant right now though. “Fuck off.”

His grip tightens further as he yanked me closer. "You sass-mouthed little shit. You have no idea who you're dealing with." His left eye turned to a red and black spiral he attempted to hypnotize me. “Come on doll... don't fight it.”

“Don’t,” I said, squeezing my eyes shut. I stomped on his foot and tried to get away. “Leave me alone!”

He released a loud growl as he stumbled back, clearly surprised by my sudden act of rebellion. "You're gonna fucking regret that!"

“Yeah, sure, we’ll see about that,” I replied coldly, taking a step back. God, I wanted him so fucking bad. I wasn’t going to admit it, of course. That would only satisfy him, and that was the last thing I wanted right now. “Everyone knows you’re all bark, no bite, you egotistical little shit.”

His eyes narrowed as he took a step forward, an air of danger surrounding him. "You think you can talk to me like that, and get away with it?" He reached out, grabbing my arm and holding me in place. He sent a jolt of electricity through me and watched as I writhed in pain.

“F-fuck you,” I hissed.

"Oh, you're gonna fucking beg for it soon enough," He said, grinning as he pulled me closer and slammed his lips against mine. His tongue invaded my mouth hungrily as he started walking backwards, pulling me into the nearest room. "Get on your fucking knees."

“No!” I said, trying to pull away. I didn’t succeed.

His grip tightened on my arm and he threw me down onto the floor. He towered over me, a dangerous look in his eyes. "Do as I fucking say and maybe I won't punish you too badly." He grinned, watching me struggle and try to get up. He snapped his fingers and cables wrapped around me, holding me in place on the ground. “God, you’re such a brat.”

“Let me go!” I said, moving against the bondage. “I’m never going to do as you say, you worthless piece of shit! let me go!”

He laughed as he watched me squirm against the cables. "You think you're fucking untouchable, don't you?" He said, staring down at me as he reached down and caressed my cheek roughly. "Let me tell you something, sweetheart. I can and will break you.” He placed a vibrator between my legs and turned it on. “And I’ll enjoy every single moment of it. You want to be a brat? You’ll be punished.”

“I hate y-you,” I said, struggling to maintain my composure.

Vox grinned, his sharp teeth glinting in the dim light. "Good. I hate you too, you little bitch." He said, laughing as he increases the intensity of the vibrator. "I've been waiting to get my hands on you for a long time.”

“Mmngh,” I mumbled, squirming and trying to get out of the cables. my face flushed red. I hated how good it felt, how my walls were clenching around nothing. “Stop… stop it…”

He watched me, his eyes blazing with desire. "I’m going to make to make you cry and beg for more like the little whore you are," He said, grinning maliciously as he leaned down close to my ear, undoing my pants and sliding them down. "You're enjoying it. I can tell.” He glanced at my slick cunt, delighted with the power he held over me.

“F-fuck,” I said, gasping softly. “Fffuck y-you… asshole…”

His eyes lit up at my words. "You like to curse, don't you?" He asked, laughing as he inserted another toy in me. "You're so turned on right now. Don't lie to yourself.

“I-I hate… mmmnn,” I moaned softly, unable to stop myself. I squirmed, trying to get some friction, my body tensing, desperate. “fuck, fuck- ffffuck…” I groaned, feeling myself peak.

He watched me squirm and couldn't help but smirk. "See? You can't even form a coherent thought right now." He teased, inserting a finger into my dripping wet pussy, crooking it against the wall. "Just let go.”

I gasped and orgasmed, tears pricking my eyes. He didn’t get rid of the toys, and he didn’t turn off the vibrator.

He chuckled as he leaned in, whispering into my ear. "That was just the beginning. I know you can take more. You're still so wet for me." He murmured, removing his finger before inserting a bigger toy that vibrated intensely. "Still going?"

“Please, p-please,” I whined, squirming, moving, desperately hoping he’d stop. “Please, I’m- I’m s-sorry.. it- it won’t happen again…”

He smirked, turning up the vibrations even higher. "I don't think you understand... this is exactly what I want. You begging and panting for me." He purred, leaning down to breathe hotly against my neck.

“Mmngh,” I moaned, grinding against his leg. “P-please, please…”

He laughed, using his free hand to rub my clit as he teased me with the toy. "I love how you beg for me. It's such a turn on. Just imagine what I can do with that desperate energy,” he murmured.

He kept doing this, kept teasing me, kept me overstimulated. I cummed and cummed and cummed, rubbing myself against him, moaning, begging, tears in my eyes. “please, please, daddy, please…” I groaned, I couldn’t take it anymore. “Please, p-please I can’t… I can’t cum anymore, p-p-please daddy…”

He grinned at my desperation, enjoying the way I begged for him. "I think you can. I think you're going to cum for me again and again, until I say you can stop."

“p-please,” I begged. I cummed again, and moaned, tears streaming down my face. “Please daddy… mnn… I’ll be good… I’ll… I’ll be a good girl, please… mnngh..mmnn..”

He chuckled at my pleading, loving every moment of it. "Oh, I know you'll be a good girl for me, doll." He continued to use the toy on me, pushing me further into bliss until I was an incoherent mumbling mess, unable to think, my mind blank with pleasure.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin vox #vox #writing #vox x reader #my writing #x reader #vox fanfiction #vox smut #vox hazbin hotel #vox the tv demon #vox hazbin #be a doll

[mcflymemes]

EVERYTHING EVERYWHERE ALL AT ONCE (2022) PROMPTS *  assorted dialogue from the film, adjust as necessary

in another life, i would have really liked just doing laundry and taxes with you.

the universe is so much bigger than you realize.

maybe we would have been better off if we had never gotten married.

why are you dressed all stupid?

you're just very bad at explaining.

how did i die?

he who loves the most regrets the most.

why would anybody want to kill me?

it's the way you look at me.

how do you think i feel?

you can either come with me and live up to your ultimate potential, or lie here and live with the consequences.

do you still want to do your party?

you are not unlovable. there is always something to love.

you think i'm weak, don't you?

can we just stop fighting?

you're capable of anything because you're so bad at everything.

i'm tired. i don't want to hurt anymore.

i still want to be here with you. i will always, always want to be here with you.

if nothing matters, then all the pain and guilt you feel for making nothing of your life goes away.

we're all small and stupid.

i wasn't looking for you so i could kill you.

so what? you're just gonna ignore everything else?

i will cherish these few specks of time.

i've been on this earth just as many days as you.

i know better than to ask to help you.

so we'll talk later... like this afternoon?

you look really pretty right now.

you took everything away from me.

we're all useless alone.

i don't know what i'd do without you.

i only made enough food for three people. i'll have to cook more.

i always learn something when i hang out with the elderly. old people are very wise.

everything i do, i try to make things simpler, easier.

maybe you can audition, too.

i don't know how to be any fucking clearer.

i didn't mean that. it was a joke.

the only thing i do know... is that we have to be kind.

i know you see yourself as a fighter.

that's not a very funny joke.

actors are very poor.

it's nice to feel needed.

i was thinking, maybe after this is all done, we can go on a trip.

if i have to think about one more thing today, my head will explode.

you may be in grave danger. there is no time to explain. hold this.

can't you see how wonderful it'll be? we can make our own way.

i'm here because we need your help.

sorry, very busy today. no time to help you.

i have spent years searching for the one who might be able to match this great evil with an even greater good and bring back balance.

i know it's a lot to take in right now.

i can see where this story's going, and it doesn't look good.

you're always trying to confuse us with these words.

i know you. with every passing moment, you fear that you might have missed your chance to make something of your life.

don't let anything distract you from it.

our time here is up. they are going to kill us.

i may be old, but i still know how to negotiate.

#rp meme #mcflymemes #rp memes #rp prompt #roleplay memes #roleplay prompt #rp starters #ask meme #ask memes #roleplay meme #roleplay inbox prompts #rp inbox meme #inbox prompt #inbox meme #sentence starter prompt #sentence starter #sentence starters #everything everywhere all at once

[midnightbrightside]

I’m desperate to your immaculate takes on Krisnix from that one ask—what do you think about 2 and 39 (bonus if the little animals get thrust upon them…it’s Trucy who brings home a box of kittens or something)

ayyy thank you im glad you like my krisnix thoughts!

2- What would they do if the other woke up in a manic state after a nightmare?

when phoenix has nightmares kristoph holds him as he sobs, gently shushing him and saying it was just a dream. phoenix grips kristoph's arms tight to ground himself and it sometimes leaves bruises. kristoph always points them out in a "look what i put up with for you" kind of way that fills phoenix with shame. "really, phoenix, what would you do without me?"

when kristoph has a nightmare he needs to be completely alone but also held as tightly as possible, he also stops speaking. phoenix holds his hands but kristoph snatches them away like the touch burns him and he looks up with wide, scared eyes. so phoenix keeps his distance and encourages kristoph to breathe deep until he stops shaking. then he asks kristoph if he wants to talk about it, kristoph shakes his head. phoenix then asks if he wants a hug, kristoph croaks out very quietly "im not... a child" and phoenix nods "you're not" and holds out his arms. kristoph collapses into them.

39- Who would rescue an injured animal and nurse it back to health? What would the other think?

i got too excited abt this one. gonna put everyone one my "kristoph loves animals" agenda.

trucy comes back home absolutely drenched by the rain holding a box of 6 sopping wet abandoned kittens. she begs phoenix to let her keep them and it absolutely breaks phoenix heart to say "we dont have the space or the money for everything they need. it's late so we can keep them for tonight but we'll have to take them to a shelter tomorrow, im sorry, sweetheart." trucy is NOT happy about it. in true preteen fashion she takes them to her room and starts planning all the ways she, a 12 year old, could raise 6 kittens. phoenix sighs and starts searching what he should feed them, just for tonight.

kristoph arrives later on to pick phoenix up for a date, sees the little furballs meowing around the apartment, and immediately starts fussing.

"these poor babies! where did you find them, and why are they so filthy?"

phoenix explains whats going on and adds "we tried to give them a bath but..." he holds up his arms to show the scratches.

kristoph scoffs, "really, phoenix, you dont have nearly the means nor the knowledge to take care of one animal let alone six." he looks down to where trucy is sitting, playing with the kittens with a makeshift toy made of scrap cloth, and frowns.

"well, first of all, kris: ouch. i was actually thinking we could maybe keep one-"

trucy interrupts from the floor "THREE at LEAST!"

"- and secondly, as i said, we are going to take them to a shelter first thing tomorrow" he looks so apologetic, so sad.

"Absolutely not" Kristoph snaps, "the local shelters are overrun as it is, to say nothing of how they are managed. I wouldnt trust them with these poor creatures either." he looks like hes thinking about something, "Trucy, dear, have you noticed if these kittens are injured or perhaps sick?"

trucy perks up and lists how each cat is faring, which ones are walking funny and points out how one of them has a weird spot near it's eye. as she's rattling off each one's ailments, phoenix notes that she's already named them and his heart melts a little more.

kristoph tuts, "we'll have to take them to the vet then, we can get them microchipped while we're there. vongoles' carrier should be big enough for the journey, oh, she would make an excellent mother..." he almost sounds like he's thinking out loud.

"so we're keeping them???" Trucy beams.

kristoph explains that they're not old enough to be separated from their siblings yet and that she and Phoenix dont have the space to care for all of them, but he is more than happy to take them until they are ready to go to a good home. he shoots a sharp glare at phoenix as he says "typically, cats adjust to a new home much better when adopted in pairs", phoenix gets the memo.

the next day they take the kittens to the vet and kristoph buys all the supplies he could need. over the next few weeks he nurses them back to health and trucy drops by almost every day after school to see how they're doing and play with them. phoenix knew that kristoph liked animals, but it's something else to see this 6'1 icicle of a man dote on these tiny creatures, he even calls them by the names trucy gave them. in moments like these he doesnt seem dangerous at all.

and vongole LOVES them, she's so excited when she first sees them she barely knows what to do with herself. kristoph was right, she makes a great mother. phoenix finds everyone's energy infectious, he buys food, 2 cat beds, some toys, other supplies, and when the time comes he asks kristoph about the kittens.

"sorry, Phoenix, i already found good homes for them" kristoph smiles apologetically and phoenix's heart drops, "i didnt even know you wanted one, i know trucy did, but you didnt seem too enthused. perhaps it's for the best, you dont have the means to take care of a pet." oh.

trucy is miserable. phoenix feels like hes dissapointed her. kristoph is smug as all hell.

#just in case anyone forgot the type of guy phoenix is dealing with here.... #ill reblog with an alt ending tho #krisnix #kristoph gavin #phoenix wright #ace attorney #ace attorney headcanon #ask #anon #mine #my fic

[rebo-chan]

Something I was thinking about lately is Tsuna's daddy issues. Specifically this frame.

Like that's such a loaded thing to think about. He's got so much resentment built up. Obviously, there's no direct connection to any of Tsuna's issues made but I think a few fun things can be said from this. In general, Tsuna clearly didn't have a father figure in his life which sorta results in him leaning on Reborn pretty often. Tsuna doesn't have a very stable self-esteem with him going from confident to "Aah, Gokuderas going to become disillusioned with me now that all my flaws have been pointed out." GOKUDERA. His FIRST SUBORDINATE. The guy who literally has been LOYAL FROM DAY ONE. Not that we consider them canon, but this happens also during the filler arcs where Daemon points out that Tsuna's not worth following to Gokudera and it seems to make Tsuna a little antsy. He DOES NOT THINK THE PEOPLE HE LOVES ARE GOING TO STAY WITH HIM, THIS IS LITERALLY RUINING MY LIFE. What Daddy Issues DO TO A MF. But that's a post for another day. But okay, back to Reborn, Reborn proves himself to be immovable from Tsuna's life. The story points out that Tsuna very much has two fathers. The one who won't leave and the one who is always gone. Tsuna really leans on Reborn throughout the series. "Reborn, what do I do?" Is a common thing he says, until Reborn is literally swept away from him against his will in Future arc where he's forced to think that he's half a person in Reborns absence. Meanwhile, we have Iemitsu who Tsuna has resentment built up towards, does not respect, and is forced to acknowledge in order to win his fight. Throughout the rainbow arc battle, they try to point out that Iemitsu is trying to teach Tsuna something here and unless I'm confused (someone feel free to tell me?) it's not really clear WHAT that is. And I've always thought that was neat, because it's obviously coming from Tsuna's inability to respect Iemitsu enough to want to learn anything from him. Yet when Reborn comes in, hell he doesn't even recognize him in his Adult form, but he politely listens and takes his advice seriously. In the grand scheme of the series, Reborn is a good teacher and father figure in his life. When Tsuna is made to feel like that he can't do anything in Reborn's absence during Future, Reborn takes a step back in that arc and lets him learn to survive without his guidance. (Notice how the training almost entirely disappears after Future.) He lets him learn how to be a person without him, only stepping in to help when Tsuna really needs it. When he's unable to light his flame, with Spanner, or when he's freaking out about the Irie reveal, the list really goes on. There's a scene I recall I believe when Yuni asks to join their group, Tsuna still turns to ask Reborn what to do, and Reborn redirects him by asking him what he wants to do. That it was his call as a boss. And Tsuna ends up making the decision to help her off his own accord.

It's with Reborn's guidance that Tsuna ends up learning to be his own person, it's this guidance that allows him to make the decision and gather everyone on his own accord when it was Reborn's turn to be shaky and give up. Where Tsuna tells him that he's got this under control, without his guidance. To just watch him. "you've always knew I could win before." It's this arc where Reborn's pride in Tsuna shines. Multiple times. "Surprise me again, Tsuna." And he does. It's in Reborn's second absence where Tsuna feels himself get shaky again, feels the old feelings of poor self image crop up, that Reborn comes back. Because Reborn is not Iemitsu, and he wasn't someone who left him in that house alone forever. Because he's still young and has much to learn before he's ready to do this on his own. It's at this he feels a little embarrassed about how glad he is that Reborn came back, but then recalls the "mean words" that Reborn said before leaving. It's here that Reborn tells him it's a good thing he hasn't changed much. Another sliver of guidance that Tsuna takes in from the figure in his life that won't leave him alone in that house.

#katekyo hitman reborn #khr #sawada tsunayoshi #r27 #platonic? #familial? #idk but #i was having feelings about those two #when i remembered that panel #thank you for reading my messy lil ramblings #<3

[barrenclan]

unsure if this has been said before but please let me get what i want (the deftones vers specifically) feels very fitting for pinepaw or maybe even rainhaze. the family guys who are almost foils to each other when they're both going through a messy rough time 🤝

I really like this suggestion, because Morrissey is my current voiceclaim for Pinepaw so he's very Smiths-coded in my mind.

Haven't had a dream in a long time See, the life I've had Could make a good man bad

So for once in my life Let me get what I want Lord knows it would be the last time Lord knows it would be the first time

Oh my friend, British men screeching is just about my favorite musical styling.

Want land in the valley There's pieces of you breaking off (Pieces of you breaking off)

Big money's in the basin, you don't come back without it He's killing with abandon to get over the mountain Got darkest rum from Mama, seething in the liver Blood disease from Papi, poisoning the river

Friends on the Other Side works pretty well for Ranger, at the very least his attitude. Rainhaze's deal came from desperation rather than greed, but I do like things that speak to his thoughtless self-centeredness and hero complex.

That's a Rainhaze song if I ever heard one!

Stuck in the middle of a forest made of Flesh and bones and they're all scared of A lost little boy who has lost his heart Fear's not enough, they have to Tear him apart

Follow the scent of iron sinking Deeper into corpses rotting But they can't hear you talk, talk, talk About every little thing

And the Hound Is humming you A lie, a lullaby

Ohh, yeah... I can see it.

I wonder who I'd be If all these bad things Didn't happen to me

I must be The Virgin Mary To create a son Who will suffer so much <- the sloug.......

The tone of the song is pretty light, but I can see the lyrics working! Especially drawing parallels between the original great destruction and the current onslaught.

Oh god, come quickly The execution of all things Let's start with the bears and the air And mountains, rivers and streams Then we'll murder what matters to you And move on to your neighbors and kids Crush all hopes of happiness with disease 'Cause of what you did

And lastly, you're all alone with nothing left but sleep But sleep never comes to you It's the guilt and forever wakefulness of the weak It's just you and me

Ah, that musical is on my watchlist but I haven't gotten around to it yet. I've heard pretty good things, though!

I roar! And you cry! I'm the reason You run and hide!

You better leave your hopes behind No one's gonna stop him You better hope he's out of sight Or you're doomed to be a victim

Objectively wild pull, but I do love Johnny Cash, and his voice reminds me a lot of what Mallowstar's would be like. I like this song a lot with him. :,]

Well, I won't back down, no I won't back down You can stand me up at the gates of Hell But I won't back down

Well, I know what's right, I got just one life In a world that keeps on pushin' me around But I stand my ground and I won't back down <- wahh mallowstar...

I'd definitely this has big Slugpelt energy.

Dear, I fear we're facing a problem You love me no longer, I know And maybe there is nothing That I can do to make you do Mama tells me I shouldn't bother

Lately I have desperately pondered, Spent my nights awake and I wonder What I could have done in another way To make you stay

It's a pretty good song!

YAY Queen song! This is interesting; I can see it very well with characters that are still a spoiler to talk about.

So much ado, my lover So many games we played Through every fleeted summer Through every precious day

All dead, all dead All the dreams we had And I wonder why I still live on All dead, all dead And alone, I'm spared My sweeter half instead All dead and gone

Damn I ran out of video links

#ask #anon #music #pinepaw #rainhaze #slugpelt #deepdark #ranger #mallowstar