#nonexistent fandoms but they rule my heart

[ashwashw]

I’m gonna say something about the incoming Twitter migration/refugees: I joined tumblr in 2012 and it’s always been a hell site but it is the hell site of my heart. I joined Twitter like in 2013, but didn’t really use it a lot until late last year (summer 2021). Twitter is crazy. Tumblr is just a lot of fandom shitposting and the etiquette is nonexistent. I love it. Twitter has stans and rules and I see at least three to five dramas on my tl from people I ain’t even follow every day. So even though I like the people I interact with on Twitter, I absolutely do not want the majority of them here. They are trouble. I like the peace and quiet that we have on tumblr. I like the chaos on Twitter. Pls Elon Musk mind your fucking business and do fuck all with Twitter, most of all leave stan Twitter alone.

#ashwashw #my thoughts #impending #twitter migration #Twitter #migration #twitter refugees #refugees #elon mask #elon musk #how do you even spell it #what ever #can’t stand the guy #KEEP TUMBLR SAFE PLS

[starrierknight]

ME TOO cocky men with white hair have me on such a chokehold it's crazy. nd mammon is also like...... pathetic, which makes him five times better. he has this whole thing where he loves u since like day 2 but he'd rather die than admit it but also the second anyone looks at u he gets sad nd angry about it i go crazy about him

i'm gonna be honest i skipped through the game rules. u tap the hearts nd when they're all charged u tap the little guys nd u win that's all i got nd all i do nd so far it's worked very well

DIAVOLO DUDEE gotta be 100% honest i do not give a fuck about the brothers romantically, only mammon (<- 💓💖💕💞🎀💘) but i need díavolo so bad it's crazy .it's even worse cause i thought since u can basically smooch the entire cast u would also be able to fuck díavolo and then the game was like "nope sorry not that one" like fuck that!! give me the hot strong polite nice man!!! i want him!!!!!

your devotion to Mammon is impressive and concerning and awe-inspiring. I love it. keep up the good work babe I'm proud 💪🏻💯🔥🗣️

PLSSSSS HAHAHAHAHA I GET IT!!!! men fictional men are there to be lusted after rather than pined over 😭 I feel the Mammon > Diavlo > everyone else pref HARDDDD. and wtf??? not the game devs cockblocking you? honestly, can't lesbians have anything??? 🙄

and omg... on the topic of cocky white haired men.... let me present to you my guilty pleasure one....

this is Sage Lesath from Last Legacy, which is a story you can play on Fictif.... bro. when I tell you that he rotted my brain for about 3 months straight last year...... it was crazy

I need this catboy mercenary carnally bro you do not understand. he's so tragic and so traumatised and so sexy and so so so.... yeah

but GET THIS⁉️🙄 the whole ass Fictif app basically got discontinued so every fucking story doesn't get finished!!!! and his story ended on a massive cliffhanger smh.... I'm so salty about it. at least you get to make out with him and (implied) fuck him. there's that

but ugh it's so annoying bc the fandom for Last Legacy is pretty dead and nearly nonexistent, so there's hardly enough good out there for him!!!!!!! it's even worse bc... I am such a picky content consumer, so there's nothing that comes close to catering to my taste fklfhsdjgllf.... icl I've considered writing for him but I just. I don't have the mental fortitude to be in a zombie fandom LOL

#anywau sorry for going on a massive rant/tangent that you did not ask for #but i simply had to say it idk! #[ ✉ ] — reece's mail #[ ☄ ] — dearest bunny

[twrflwrarch]

among the LONG LIST of useless muses i have, #1 among them is mother from ragtime

#ooc. #thats called ''i want to play her in a production of ragtime'' asdfghjk #her and jerusha from daddy long legs #nonexistent fandoms but they rule my heart

[the-insomniac-emporium]

Everybody Talks Too Much (Cassandra Dimitrescu/Mute!Reader)

Fandom: Resident Evil: Village Rating: T for language, brief violence Summary: Whenever Cassandra gets angry, no one wants to deal with her. Well, no one but you, that is. Thankfully, the middle child appreciates your company... not that she'd ever admit it. Notes: Another self-indulgent fic with a selectively mute reader. This one's a lil different. Sections in italic are mostly indications that the reader is miming actions in order to communicate, though there are a few internal thoughts that are marked as such. Unlike the past two I've done, this takes place pre-relationship, so there's some mutual pining of sorts. I think that's the word.

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

Among the many servants of Castle Dimitrescu, there were a number of secret rules to be followed. Guidelines that were never written down, only spoken in hushed whispers, for specific (and dangerous) circumstances. Most could be divided into one of two categories: 1, how to reduce the chances of a Lady of the house killing someone. 2, how to make sure that if they kill someone, it will not be you. Of these rules, there was one that you knew best of all, despite never having been told it. Why? Because you have observed it time and time again. After all, the rule revolved around you. To put it plainly… If Cassandra Dimitrescu was in an awful mood, but had yet to draw blood, send in the mute.

Even now, as you rushed down a corridor, you did not know why this rule was in place. You simply knew that you had been summoned countless times by frantic maidens, to go serve their volatile mistress. Admittedly you did understand their eagerness to thrust the task upon someone else. Cassandra was often considered the deadliest of the Dimitrescu daughters, for she was the quickest to anger, the one with the deepest bloodlust, and took the longest to calm down. Personally, you disagreed, believing that it wasn’t terribly hard to know what she did and did not like. All it took was some observation. It was Daniela who scared you, seeing as she was unpredictable. She didn’t even need to be in a bad mood to want to kill you.

Of course, that didn’t necessarily mean that you saw no danger in working with Cassandra. In fact, you saw a fair bit, such as now: Right as you round the corner, a shiny object hurls past your head, embedding itself into the wall. Had you been walking ever so slightly faster… Well, you preferred not to dwell on such things, especially not when the one who threw the thing was still nearby. Based on the howling laughter and swarm of insects that moves around you, the intended target was Lady Daniela. Across the room is the markswoman herself; Cassandra stood tall, huffing in anger, staring at the spot her sister had just vacated from.

“Damn it!” She yelled, stomping her foot as if the resulting shockwave might do what her weapon had not. Oddly amused, you’re quick to remove the sickle from the wall, careful as to not damage it. It’s a tad dirty, but nothing you can’t fix with your handy pocket cloth. Cleaning as you walk, you slowly move towards your employer, not even bothering to spare her a glance. After all, you had your own rules for dealing with her.

(1: Avoid eye contact for at least one minute after an outburst.)

By the time you make it to Cassandra, the minute has come and gone, allowing you to ever-so politely look her in the eyes when you return her blade. She scoffs, then practically rips the sickle from your hands. This was your job, however, so you made no complaints. Not that you could, at least not verbally. Instead, you gave a short bow of acknowledgement. Afterwards you stood still, awaiting either instructions or a dismissal. Neither came.

“I can’t believe that little shit tried to take my favorite dagger and thought she could get away with it! Agh, the nerve of her! Can you believe this?” Cassandra snapped, turning to you as if you might agree with her. Nod, simple yet effective. “At least you know how to handle a blade. Damn Daniela is lucky she didn’t get any scratches on mine.” Then she pulls the knife in question from its place on her belt, letting it gleam in the light. A soft exhale, head tipping to the side, wow is it pretty. So is the one holding it. Your mind wanders but your gaze does not. Always polite, always ready to serve.

(2: Do not get distracted; she is no patient lover, rather a demanding boss.)

“Cassandra! What was all that noise a minute ago?” Someone called, interrupting your ‘conversation’. The speaker soon appears, being none other than Lady Bela, the most reasonable of the castle residents. Though that meant little, considering the nature of her family. As if to prove your point, Cassandra merely rolls her eyes in reply, refusing to divulge the truth. And so Bela turned her gaze to you, perking a brow. “Feeling up to talking today?” She asked, already knowing the answer. Of course, your hands are already moving, not even waiting for her to finish speaking. This is a game you know intimately.

A hand goes to your belt, moving to pull a nonexistent blade from its sheath. Raising it, moving it forward then back several times, launching it towards the wall- towards the hole left behind. Then shifting, waving your hand in front of your face while exhaling a sharp breath. Flinching. An exaggerated gulp, pretending to check if your nose is still attached, sighing in relief. Lastly, an inclination of your head towards the culprit. Cassandra.

“I was aiming for Daniela. Not that it matters, nobody got hurt,” she stated, confident. Both hands clasped together, then tapping the palms together, mimicking a heartbeat at a reasonable pace. Suddenly a stomp. The beating stops, and you hold your hands next to your ear, as if listening for signs of life. Pause. Three seconds. Worried expression, eyes wide. Finally, fast as a gunshot, the heart beats again, wildly. At this, Bela shoots her sister a look of doubt, as well as judgement. Hoping to change the subject, Cassandra looks to you. “What are you doing here anyway?”

Rubbing your chin, thinking. Squinting for effect. Ah, got it! Both hands go to your sides, lifting the imaginary hem of a dress you aren’t wearing. Waltzing forward, yet in place, with the poise expected of a professional maid. Then the focus shifts to your face. Fear. A silent scream, a hand at your forehead, feeling like you… might… faint. Falling backwards, making a step at the very last second to prevent a real collapse. End scene.

“Someone was scared?” Bela asked, sounding uncharacteristically unsure of herself. When you nod, she does as well, considering the implications. “Why would they send you?”

“I hardly care why, I just want to know who so I can kick their ass,” Cassandra interjects, taking a step closer to you. All you do in response is shrug. Unsurprisingly this is not enough to please her, and before you know it she’s wrapped a hand around your throat. “Give. Me. A. Name. Now.” A perked brow. Thoughts practically telegraphed. ‘What do you expect?’ Opening your mouth, slightly, then wide, back to almost closed. No sound comes out. Obviously. It’s not like you wanted to break your own rule, but in this case you had no choice.

(3: Give her whatever she wants, consequences be damned.)

Luckily for you, Bela acts as a foil to Cassandra, there to smooth the seas. Moving behind you, she reaches into your back pocket and retrieves the notepad you keep there. Then she’s handing it to you while making eye contact with her sister. Cassandra promptly releases you, though she’s clearly not pleased, going so far as to push you away in one last act of anger. Internally you roll your eyes. On the outside, however, you quickly write down everything you know… which isn’t much.

“I don’t remember who it was. A lot of people have asked. This happens a lot.” Then you hand the paper to Bela, who soon looks back up at you in confusion. Too antsy to wait for her own turn, Cassandra yoinks the notepad from her sister’s hands, reading it over several times before reacting.

“What the fuck? Why would they send you to me because somebody pissed their pants in fear? I’m going to kill someone. Ugh, I don’t- this doesn’t make any goddamn sense,” Cassandra ranted, pacing back and forth, looking like she wanted to destroy something immediately. To your surprise, Bela doesn’t look the slightest bit concerned. If anything, she looks amused, and smiles when the two of you make eye contact. Something tells you that she knows something that you don’t. Before you can react, she quietly retrieves your notepad and returns it to you. Then she pauses, thinking, eying you with curiosity.

“Why don’t you go for now? See if anyone thanks you for stepping in, hmm?” She suggested, tone implying that this was absolutely about something else entirely. Still, you don’t care to disobey, and so you bid the two of them farewell with a deep bow. As you leave, you can almost make out part of what they say next. But you’re certain that you must have heard incorrectly. “Showing your favoritism a little too much, sister? If even the servants can see it-” the rest of the sentence is cut off by angry muttering from Cassandra. After that you’re too far away to hear anymore. What a strange day...

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

“Hey, you know where Lady Cassandra’s room is, right?” Ygritte asked, casually, definitely not having just been told by someone else that you were the solution to her problem. Pretending that you were unaware of this, you give her a smile and a nod. Later, behind her back, you will mentally add her to your list of people to watch out for. Maybe even decide to refuse to share your biscuits with her. In the meantime, you pretend that you don’t mind whatever task she’s about to dump on you. “Can you bring these books to her? I really have to get back to the kitchen soon, and that’s in the opposite direction…”

Technically true. Something told you that the real problem was that Cassandra had been extra loud the past few days. Regardless, you accept the books from her, leaving before she even finishes thanking you. Why do people do this? I don’t get it, you think. It’s like they think I’m immune to her rage. If that were true, I’d gladly throw myself between her and others. But no, that’s not the case. Hmmph, if only they saw my scars. Shaking your head to clear your thoughts, you keep walking, subconsciously rubbing the spot on your arm where Cassandra had cut you. Well, the worst spot. Being pain tolerant had made her take interest in you, during your first few weeks, but it’s what allowed you to learn her rules. Your rules, really.

Knock. Knock. A pause… three more, much softer. The door swings open, revealing your Lady, whose eyes widen at the sight of you. Tipping your hat (which you are not wearing), you greet her, forcing another smile. Then you present the books, free hand gesturing with a spiral motion towards them. She doesn’t respond. No, wait, she glances at the door hinges, considering closing the door in your face. Now both of you are staring at each other, daring the other to move.

“You’re not supposed to be here,” she finally said. There’s a gruffness to her voice that you hadn’t expected. It’s unlike her usual tone, less angry, more tired. Were those bags under her eyes?... No, just smudged makeup. “Don’t just stand there- tell me why you’re here.” Again, you gesture to the books, extending your hands further towards her. This time she takes a half-step backwards to avoid you. Peculiar. “Someone else was supposed to bring them, dipshit. Fucking hell, why can’t anyone around here do their damn jobs?” At last, she takes the books from you, carrying them deeper into your room. Though she does not close the door, you assume that your job is done. Or maybe you simply do not wish to deal with a Cassandra who’s frustrated by your specific presence. Either way, it breaks one of your rules, though you do not remember until it is too late.

(4: Do not leave until dismissed by a member of the family.)

“Where the hell are you going?” The sound of buzzing flies, a blur of motion around you, then the form of Cassandra solidifying in front of you. One of her hands is raised, pressing against the center of your chest. She pushes you, hard, making you stumble backwards into her room. Next thing you know you’ve crashed onto her floor. A tad stunned, you bring a hand up to hold your head, blinking rapidly for a few seconds. There’s the sound of a door closing, and then someone’s trying to help you stand. “I didn’t say you could leave yet. Now c’mon, I’ve got stuff for you to do.” Then she’s guiding you to her bed, making you sit down on the end. Panicked thoughts race through your mind one after another. What exactly was she intending? Thankfully you don’t have to wait long to find out. “Read through these, and-” a pause, like she hadn’t known what she was going to say until she was already speaking- “take notes. Make a summary of the bookmarked sections, or whatever.” Handing you a couple books (neither of which being ones you had just brought to her), she sits on the other side of the bed, refusing to look at you. She does, however, say one last thing, voice barely above a whisper. “Just stay for a while, okay?”

Inside your head, you make a mental note to amend your list of rules.

(4.b: Do not leave until dismissed by a member of the family. If Cassandra asks you to stay, you stay, no matter what. It’s worth it.)

#cassandra dimitrescu x reader #cassandra dimitrescu #resident evil: village #re8 village #stayed up to write this #totes worth it

[blackvelvetwriteson]

𝐃𝐎𝐍'𝐓 𝐁𝐄 𝐀 𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐓

                                             (  ~ Kakashi Hatake x Gender Neutral                                                                                                          Reader Insert ~ )

GENRE: Smut and Fluffy Fluff!                                                                  

FANDOM: Naruto: Shippuden

TRIGGER WARNINGS: There’s smut towards the end! (Thigh riding and overstim, etc.) Nothing too hardcore, but it’s worth noting.

SUMMARY: I really hope this is sort of what you were leaning towards! I haven’t watched Naruto in years so I had to refresh my memory a little and do HELLA research, but I hope I didn’t disappoint! This is Kakashi with a bratty reader! There’ll be a small oneshot (probably posted later today) to follow this because music inspired me lmao.

WORD COUNT: This is just a headcanon/imagine so N/A REQUESTED BY: @impromptuxprompts

(Headers are mine, but the art inside of them are not! Please don’t steal or repost without credit!)

We all know that Kakashi is a pretty stoic man, right?

Like literally NOTHING pisses this man off.

Or like.. At least until he gets you, Reader-Chan.

But here’s the thing, you decide to try and make him break at least a little bit.

Despite what people may think, he’s generally pretty vanilla.

He also has really bad nightmares; being too hardcore could send him into a bad state.

But not everything needs to be rough all the time. You like how cuddly he is.

But he’s ONLY cuddly towards you. And when you both are alone.

He’s DEFINITELY the type to always try and teach you something.

Like, “Kashi! I’m gonna put my hand on the stove!”

And you’d think he’d be like, “No… You shouldn’t do that.” Right?

Wrong.

He just shoots you THE most unimpressed look, crosses his arms, and leans against the wall and nods his head a little like.

“…. Hm… Go ahead.”

You just STARE like homeboy you’re REALLY gonna just let me… Put my hand on the stove like that?

And then he’d watch you wimp out and whine and he’d reward you with a forehead kiss.

You get happy for a second, but goddamn what is this man thinking about? Like you can NEVER tell with him.

But you can’t get mad at him; he knows ABSOLUTELY NOTHING about romance.

This dude REALLY tried to call you “his favorite kunai” before he settled on Blossom. And you had to tell him why you being “his favorite kunai” was an issue because he honestly thought he’d gotten the hang of it.

He’s watching TV and you’re reading a book and decide to dress in one of his sweaters with nothing on underneath.

I mean NOTHING. Like, no underwear, no shirt- nothing.

And I mean the only reaction you get out of him is a small “Hm…” And his eyes widen a little and that seems like that’s all it is.

As you’re pouting, you don’t notice his eyes slowly raking over your body, he just doesn’t blush or anything because this man could keep a poker face if someone had a gun to his head.

And you just stomp your foot a little like. “Am I not beautiful enough for you or something?”

This time you get a bit of a reaction but he just blows his hair out of in front of his eye.

You both have a set of rules that you follow, and in exchange, he lets you eat sweets before dinner and before bed, and he also has to keep his mask off the entire time he’s at home.

“What do you mean? You’re just fine,” he says in that soft, cold tone of his. His eyes linger a little on the hoodie misforming your body.

He loves it actually. He loves how all of the little folds hug you and he knows it smells like him.

He also knows that it’s your comfort blanket of sorts, so of course he knows that something’s wrong with you.

“Come here, Blossoml,” he says softly and he pats his lap.

“No.”

He looks a bit taken back.

Surprised? No. Disappointed? Absolutely.

He notices that you don’t have the little bear he gave you with him and he raises an eyebrow.

“Where’s your toy?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

He just sighs quietly and you smirk thinking that you won.

“I’m guessing you don’t want any sweets after dinner tonight then?”

“Mm-mm. Nope.”

You a whole damn lie. And he knows it.

He tries to go through and think about why you’re acting like such a brat today and he remembers that you get like this when you guys haven’t had sex in awhile.

It’s been almost a month.

He does this thing where he tries to deprive himself of things that makes him feel good or makes him happy, but he does it in such a way that you don’t ever recognize it.

“Why should I get to live free and feel good and be happy and my comrades can’t even feel anymore?” That’s what he always said to try and make an excuse for it.

He’s WAY more laid back now than he was years ago though, but he still has some of his same habits.

But it’s too late. You’ve already pushed the brat act and noticed he’s slightly started to get agitated.

He sat back and leaned forward, his elbows rested on his knees, his eyebrows furrowed just a little, his lips just a little pursed.

You were standing right in front of him and you shifted uncomfortably under his intense blanketed gaze.

“K-Kashi-“

“I’m going to ask you one last time, Blossom. Where’s. Your toy?”

“U-Uhm…”

He knows how difficult you are when you get like this, so instead of counting down from 10 or some shit, he spells out his name, and with each letter, his gaze gets more intense.

“K….A….K…..A…..S……”

You start to whine and his eyebrows only furrow more and he stands up, your resolve now nonexistent. “H….”

“I-It’s under the bed and I can’t reach it! I’m sorry!”

He shakes his head and clicks his tongue. “What’s gotten into you today, Blossom?

“NOTHING!”

“Inside voices.”

He taps the side of his head and you nod. That was the signal for him sort of telling you to tone it down a little and you abide to avoid aggravating him.

He walks into the room and kneels down, gently collecting the bear from under the bed.

You thank him and hug him as you chitter quietly and he still has no idea what to do with his hands so he just pats your head.

“If you wanted me to grab your bear for you then why didn’t you just ask?”

You pout and bury your head in his chest. He never really understood the point of people being a great but with YOU he seemed to tolerate WAY more than he would with anybody else.

“I-I… I d-don’t know,” you say quietly.

He sits on the edge of the bed, leaning back, his eyes guiding you to one of his thighs.

“This is what you wanted right? Sincerest apologies for not being able to give more… But this is all I can offer at the moment,” he speaks quietly as you walk closer.

He gently takes you by the waist and positions his legs right in between yours, slowly lowering you how he knows you like it.

Before you move- or before he lets you move- you just stop as you notice his eyes locked on yours.

He gently takes your chin in his hand and makes you look at him.

“The next time you need something, just ask. Why do you insist on being a brat?”

You whine more but immediately shut up when you see his sleepy expression.

“B-Being a brat is the only way to get your attention on me! I don’t like it when you’re sad! I want you to be… MINE. Not your mind’s…”

He allows you to fully sit on his thigh, slowly guiding your hips to ride it as he spoke to you.

“Blossom… No. You’re all mine, for sure, you’re just not observant.”

You open your mouth to protest but he puts one of his soft fingers into your mouth so you can’t and you just suck on it contently while listening to him talk to you.

“I notice when and why you act like a brat. Hm? I know that you want this,” he gestures to you. “And so much more. However, I need you to recognize that I’m not like… Most men out here… I’m not normal… I’m so sorry if I seem so distant, truly. I’m *not,* I promise. I just… Don’t equate sex with attention… And I don’t really have a drive for it, yknow? Like…. Just… I don’t know what it is… But I know for sure that it’s not on you.”

You liked it when you both had your heart to hearts. Especially like this.

He wasn’t an especially hard Dom, he always found out what it was you wanted, questioned you on why you thought you deserved what you were claiming you did and made sure you’d been taking care of yourself before he gave it to you. He didn’t like being too rough so he made sure that every action he made was soft and gentle.

You didn’t like gentle all the time, so you’d let him know and then guide him into what you were craving in the moment.

When he choked you for the first time, he was a bit scared but he was also confused. — “U-Uh… People like this s-sort of thing…? Why?”

He also gives REALLY great spankings, but he’s also confused as to why people like being hit too. (Aren’t we all.)

You listen to him and realize that the two of you have had this talk before. You don’t like that he felt forced to tell you this again especially when you knew that it made him uncomfortable.

“Blossom… I’ll do my best for you, okay? I’ll be normal and just like everyone else… At least in terms of expressing my feelings to you… But for now, work the brat out of your system by riding on my thigh.”

You did as instructed, sucking hard on his fingers, your eyes glazed over as you rest your hand on his chest for support as he started to slowly bob his leg for you.

He was okay with one of many things, however, and that was praising you. He always took the chance to praise you, especially whenever you did well, but he took extra care when you were in your moods.

He also knew you liked it when he moaned or when he made noise for you so that you knew you were doing good, so he did just that too.

Whenever you rode his thigh, he always took special care of you, holding your waist and guiding your sex into the hardest part of his thigh.

Bonus points if you’re wearing his shirt, or anything of his really.

He always likes to graze his nails over your skin too because of the goosebumps it gives you.

He watches you make a mess of his thigh, feeling your legs tremble around his and this gives him a smile. It’s VERY subtle, but it’s a smile nonetheless.

“That’s right Blossom, just keep grinding into me just like that… You’re being so good for me baby, don’t stop until you’re satisfied,” is what he often reminds when you’re close.

Occasionally when your leg brushes past or presses into his bulge, he returns the favor and he grinds against your leg subtly, but it’s still there.

And the best part?

He always lets those moans and whimpers out in your ear for you to soak up.

He doesn’t like it when you call him daddy; he just doesn’t. However, he does allow you to call him “Mister” or “Sir” to make up for it.

By this point you’re about ready to cum right there and you know, he’s never held you back from an orgasm, so this should be easy, right?

Wrong…. Kinda.

He tells you to slow down and you just stare up at him in disbelief.

Tf did he mean “sLoW dOwN”

So you whine a little, but then he slaps your ass and you’re just like :O

And a VERY fleeting smirk shows up on his face.

You abide and he pulls your hips down against his lap harder and then you jolt and dig your nails into his chest.

“W-What a-are you doing S-Sir?”

He pushes his fingers deeper in your mouth to shut you up and while you’re riding his thigh, his hips are grinding into your leg and he brings you closer.

Of course, as if he hadn’t already, he broke your very fragile bratty demeanor and he knew he did too.

He nibbled at your ear while all of his sweet little groans flooded into your ear.

He also hiked his leg up hard and that caused to to bite down on his fingers a little as you arched your back.

He lets out a hollow laugh in your ear because he knows that you’re holding back an orgasm.

“Didn’t I tell you to go until you were satisfied? So why are you holding back?” His eyebrows furrow a little and you try not to cum but that doesn’t really last long.

He starts to nibble on your neck with a soft growl and he forces your hips faster against his leg, but you know you’re in trouble now because he starts to spell his name after every single nibble.

“You have until I finish spelling my name,” he said quietly in your ear as if you both were in public.

“H…. A…. T…”

You’re trying again to hold on, and his fingers latch on to your tongue a little not making any of this easier.

Naturally, you start to drool; so you’re a mess on his lap trying to keep from bursting over his leg right then and there. I mean come on, he just started spelling.

“A…K…E… K…A…K…”

You can’t really hold on anymore and he smirks, pleased with himself as you tremble on his thigh, your nails digging into his skin, your toes curling as you try to push yourself onto his thigh more but also try to pull away because you’re so overtimed you could barely take it.

“A.. S…” He laughed quietly as his nips became a little harder, your orgasm only intensifying.

“H… I…” He mumbled quietly as he finished spelling his name into you.

You didn’t know what kind of hold he had on you but you loved it, and you were such a mess on his lap, trembling with labored breathing, you try to stay upright but find it hard to as you’re about to pass out.

“Have you finally got that brat out of your system or should I…” He jolted his leg up into your sex and you whimper loudly looking like you’re about to cry, your eyes widening a little.

“N-No sir! No more! I-I c-can’t take anymore,” you murmur out quietly. “P-Please let’s just cuddle…. I w-want you w-with me,” you whimper. It was apparent to him that you were slipping into subspace and he knew just how to take care of you.

“Don’t worry, you’ve been a good baby for me,” he said softly, gently kissing the side of your head as he picked you up.

He allowed you to lean into him before he laid you on the bed. You were still extremely sensitive and trembling, letting go of him as you let the bed hug you instead.

You knew what time it was so you didn’t complain when he left.

He came back a moments later with a few things; a bag of chocolates he reserved for this occasion, a few candles with a lighter, his cologne, and your favorite lotion.

He lights the candles first and then he places them around the room. The sweet warm scents now filling the area around your room.

He then walks over to you on the bed and he slides into the bed, turning on the TV to some cartoons, warming up a dollop of lotion in his hands.

“Is this what you want to watch, Blossom?”

You, of course, nod sleepily and whine quietly as you feel the warm lotion over your body, his slender hands gently kneading into your back. It felt so good that you couldn’t help but to let out soft mewls and moans trying to press closer to him.

He smiled and moved you onto your stomach so that you were facing the tv and he moved to straddle your lower back as he gently massaged the warm lotion into your back causing you to whimper and whine softly, your body still sensitive from your orgasm.

“Am I going too rough?” He asks in that sweet almost melancholy voice of his that you loved. It somehow always managed to lull you into subspace.

You only respond with small grunts and mumbles.

He took a break to open up a couple of the small chocolates and he gently pushed one into your mouth with a soft kiss against your ear as he left the other in a sort of pile right next to you so you could help yourself.

You couldn’t help but to whimper quietly and you nibble at your little bear’s ear as you watch your cartoons, sucking on the chocolate as he went back to massaging your skin with the warm relaxing lotion.

He also loved to worship your body, especially since you tell him that you don’t know if you mean anything to him.

He works the lotion into your whole body; your back, your sides, your arms and hands.

He lotions up your hands by keeping his hips pressed into yours from behind while his hands gently caress yours. He loves playing with the muscles and bones in your hands, primarily your knuckles.

When he was finished with the rest of your body, leaving your neck left treated too with soft kisses as well, he repositioned so that he could cuddle with you from behind.

He ALWAYS cuddled you until you were asleep so he could clean himself up and go make dinner for whenever you chose to wake up, the brat ALWAYS worked out of your system after he was done with you.

“What do you say, Blossom,” he always chided in that sweet almost monotonous voice of his with his soft closed eye smile.

“Thank you, Sir. I’ll be good from now on.”

#requested #naruto shippuden #Kakashi hatake #kakashi sensei #kakashi x reader #kakashi smut #kakashi hatake lemon #naruto shippuden x reader #kakashi headcanons #kakashi x you #kakashi x y/n

[writing-of-a-british-bitch]

Blame Me- Chapter 4

Fandom: The Walking Dead

Specified gender: Female

Word Count: 11.7K

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x reader,

TW: canon typical violence, canon divergence, flashback of past character death (OCs), cannibalism, detailed gore, sexual innuendos, suggestion of rape, reference to past child death, torture (dismemberment), Negan being Negan, probably badly written Negan, mention of a broken ankle?

Genre: Horror ig?

Series: Blame Me

Requests: CLOSED

Masterlist

A/N: Yeah, like I warned last chapter, I got a little carried away with this chapter. Negan is so fucking hard to write, so warning you for that as well. I loved this chapter though. And, uh, a lot of trigger warnings. Enjoy!

(Y/N) sighed, looking into her bag. Her supplies were running dangerously low - only two cans and half a water bottle, not to mention the nonexistent ammo. She wouldn't be able to stay out here much longer. But paranoia crept into her, as it had done regularly since that night, and kept her in place. Trusting people was damn near impossible. Being in a group, in a community, a camp? It was terrifying. Unless she was truly desperate, and only then, would there be the smallest slither of a chance of it happening. Maybe she would be better just moving on. Staying alone. She was safer alone.

"Don't be stupid, woman, ya barely standin'." She could practically hear Daryl's voice in her ear, and her head snapped to the side just to check. But she was met with empty, open-air, and her heart sank a little bit, despite knowing he wasn't there. (Y/N) let out a huff, a mix of frustration and sadness, and looked back to the clearing in the bushes where she was watching Terminus. Goddamn it, even when he wasn't there, he was always right. She was going to get herself killed. There was a herd on the way, so it wouldn't hurt to stay a couple days right? Restock, sleep, and then get on the road again before the herd hit. They'd destroy that place anyway.

(Y/N) watched with hardened eyes as the fencing was pulled open, fixed on the men behind it. He had a smile on his face and open hands but his eyes gave him away. There was something menacing behind them. She wasn't sure she wanted to find out what that was. Just a few days.

"Hello there! My name is Gareth, I'm kind of the leader around here. Welcome to Terminus," Gareth greeted, striding forward, much quicker than (Y/N) had liked. She stepped back in response, narrowing her eyes cautiously.

"(Y/N)," She responded after a long pause. Hell, the longer she spent alone, the more she was sounding like her husband. Gareth's eyes flittered to her dirty, bloodied face; to the gun, she held in a vice-like grip; to her furrowed eyebrows; to the way she swayed lightly in exhaustion.

"Well, we're glad to have you. Before you come in, though, I need you to put your weapons on the ground. All of them. Just so we have no surprises," He replied. (Y/N) glanced down to the gun, still with the safety off and hesitated. Gareth waited patiently, much to her odd annoyance. Eventually, she gave a small nod, watching as relief flooded his features. There was something off about him. What was he hiding? She didn't trust him. Not that that meant much anymore. Down the gun went, along with the knife from her belt, still covered in walker blood, and the small handgun she kept clipped to her bag. Gareth came towards her, slowly this time, like someone approaching a scared pet. "I'm just going to pat you down now. Just our policy."

Much to (Y/N)'s relief, he kept professional as he patted along her arms, down her torso and legs and back up again. He was giving her that fake gentle smile. That only made her stiffen and the leader was quick to back off when he was done. He was trying to earn her trust. A nagging voice in the back of her head kept asking why what was he up to? (Y/N) tried to shake the suspicion as she bent down to pick her weapons back up.

"C'mon in," Gareth gestured to the gate and despite her unease, she allowed him to take her through to a small courtyard. There were a few people, maybe ten or so. Some of them were sat down on tables and little booths that were dotted around, and two people were stood next to a barbecue, where there was a blonde woman stood behind cooking. The closer they got, the stronger the smell wafting through the air did, and it made her stomach twist in a knot. She knew that smell. Why did she know that smell? The lady shot (Y/N) a warm smile as she offered her a plate of whatever it was she was cooking. But she only stared at it, a look of scepticism and partial disgust and the Terminus people exchanged a glance. Finally, the lady shrugged and handed the plate to a guy who'd come to stand behind the survivor. "You really find it hard to trust people don't you?"

"I'll be here for a day or two. I just need to rest," (Y/N) cut in sharply, readjusting the bag on her back, leaving a hand on the strap for grounding. Gareth shook his head slightly and placed his hand on his hips.

"Right this way," He breathed, growing increasingly vexed with the newcomer's dismissal. This time, she was led to what looked like a canteen, made out of an old factory (maybe? It was hard to tell), and this time she let herself sit down on a bench that had been shoved against the wall. Her bag was placed on the floor between her feet, never letting it get too far. The three pictures and a random bobby pin that she had no idea how it got there, that were folded in her back pocket were stabbing into her ass through her jeans but she didn't move. If she was going to get stolen from again, she would happily lose everything as long as she could keep those three photos. Gareth disappeared into a back room and she let her gaze slide around the room. It was barren but looked like it had been untouched by the dead. A few minutes stretched by and her knee began to bounce nervously, before he returned, holding a can of sweetcorn, top already taken off, and a glass of water. He handed it to her, and hesitantly she took it. Hell, she was starving.

(Y/N) dug in a second later, ravenous, and it would long before the can was empty. The leader was babbling on about the community and rules and all that bullshit. By god, that man could talk. She'd zoned out by now, more focused on getting fed and hydrated. She took a gulp from the glass, nearly emptying, and putting on an expression that made it seem like she was listening. Slowly, however, his words started to fade in and out, muffling and blending together. Her head felt light, and she felt like she could barely hold herself up. She felt so damn heavy. Her body fell to the side, lying on the bench. Gareth knelt down in front of her. There it was. Through her dotted vision, she could see the dark grin on his face, and a shiver ran down her spine. He'd put something in her food and water. That motherfucker.

"What the hell did-" (Y/N) started. She could hardly recognise her own voice. It was slurred and quiet, but still filled with the anger she'd hoped for. Well, if she was gonna die, he wanted her to know she was pissed about it. Gareth just stared her down, and eventually, she surrendered to the black dots. For Fuck's sake.

The faint noise of hushed chatter made (Y/N) lift her head from the floor. Shit that was a mistake. She scrunched her eyes back shut, trying to relieve her pounding headache. Slowly, she let herself open her eyes again, only to be met by the same darkness, bar a slither of light coming from under, what she assumed to be, a door. Everything fucking hurt, but she still pushed herself up, shuffling until she met a wall, to get grounding. The room couldn't have been very big, a storeroom or something? Well, at the very least, she knew she could trust her instincts. She saw something suspicious in Gareth and the motherfucker had drugged her. Asshole. The next question was, why the fuck had he drugged her? As if the people outside could read her mind, the door slammed open, flooding the room in sunlight, which made (Y/N) shut her eyes. Fuck that headache was killing her. Whoever had opened the door gripped her arm, jerking her out of the room across the rough ground and tearing her skin slightly. That was gonna sting later. She moved to fight back but found her wrists tied by course rope. How hadn't she noticed that? Probably the headache, damn it. When her eyes adjusted, they raised to glare at the person. Gareth. Of fucking course.

"Hey asshole," She quipped, giving him a sarcastic smile and he smiled, though there was no kindness in it. She heard him mumble something about being a smart ass before he lifted a bit of cloth from around her neck (when had that gotten there? Stupid drug side effects) she was tugged to her feet and shoved forward. (Y/N) had no idea where she was going, but the faces of the Terminus people read glad and... hungry? They had plenty of food in that pantry, more than (Y/n) had seen in a long time, why would they be hungry?

It wasn't long before her surroundings became gloomy and darkened as Gareth took her into another old looking warehouse. The corridor opened up to a large room, with different kinds of tools littering the walls and various tools, along with a long trough in the centre of the room. Oh fuck, oh no. Oh no no no. She'd been hunting with Daryl and Merle enough times to know exactly what this fucking meant. She was NOT going out like this, no fucking way. And definitely not without a damn fight She squirmed in his grip, launching her leg backwards to try and kick him, but Gareth managed to jump back just in time. He twisted her arm slightly in return and she released a grunt of pain, but didn't let up, turning, bending, kicking, just moving as much as she possibly could, shouting out, trying to backpedal. Anything to get away from that trough. There were two guys in the corner, bouncing on their heels and shuffling, clearly waiting for Gareth to ask them to step in.

"Stop, fucking stop," Gareth growled in her ear, pushing her forward even more, despite her struggling. She was getting closer, and closer and closer and she was running out of options. This was gonna hurt like a bitch. Better than getting eaten. With a deep breath, she threw her head back, smashing into his nose. Shit, shit, shit she was right that fucking hurt. Instinctively, he let go, swearing violently and she made a mad dash for the door. The likelihood of her actually getting anywhere, especially with tied hands and goons around every corner but hell if they thought she was gonna just lay down and let them kill her, they were wrong. She raced back down the route Gareth had just taken her, and she soon heard three sets of footsteps behind her. She managed to get outside, back to the courtyard she'd been in hours (maybe? she didn't really know how long she was out) earlier, before one of the men who'd been in the slaughter room tackled her to the floor. Well, there went another layer of her skin on the ground. Ow. Over the slight ringing in her ears (Y/N) could hear slightly panicked muttering from the small crowd in the courtyard. Gareth came over seconds later, towering over her, and she grinned at him upon seeing his bloodied nose and the drips of blood on the collar of his shirt. He gripped her shirt harshly and pulled her up and hurriedly pushed her towards the small storeroom she'd been in minutes earlier.

"What? Don't have the balls to try and kill me again?" She asked through the gag, which Gareth pulled down before shoving her down to the floor. He stood in the doorway, glaring down at her with a wild look in his eye. He crouched in front of her, and despite the fear snaking into her, she kept his gaze, smirking slightly.

"Oh, don't worry, we'll kill you. But, you see, we have some newcomers, who we've yet to break the news of how things work here. We don't need you scaring them off. You can stay here for a few days, let things calm down and then..." He trailed off and ran a finger along her cheek. (Y/N) moved her head away, sneering at him.

"And what happens if your new people don't agree with the way you run things? I mean, eating people? You're not that different from the snarlers," She asked, her voice slightly hoarse, but still full of venom. There was that flash of amusement on his face and he leant forward, right in her face. She narrowed her eyes, resisting the urge to smash her head into his nose again. That headache was still hammering behind her eyes and Jesus, it still hurt.

"If they don't agree, you can have some buddies joining you, and you can help the rest of us out," Okay that was just a weirdly cryptic way of saying they'd get eaten too. The leader was still too close for comfort, and she just looked at him, before spitting and narrowly missing his eyes. He snarled and stood up before slamming the door shut behind him and flooding the room with semi-darkness. Fantastic.

The only way (Y/N) was measuring time was the light underneath the door. It'd been around three days, and her arms had started cramping just hours after Gareth had shoved her back in that shithole. Thankfully, around halfway through day two, someone had come and untied her, only so she could eat, but her arms still felt tender. They fed her, and while most of it had expired, it was more than she'd eaten in weeks, and it made her the strongest she'd been in a while. The smell of her own vomit had made her nose numb, and honestly, she couldn't wait to get out even if it meant her becoming dinner. In the darkness and mostly silent room, she had nothing to do, other than getting lost in her thoughts. It was the only thing stopping her from going crazy.

"You're telling me that Merle got you this?" (Y/N) asked, about three years younger, looking back to an also younger Daryl. The pair were stepping through dead leaves, and moving past bushes. He looked over, moving his significantly shorter hair off his forehead.

"Ya really surprised by that?" He questioned, raising his eyebrows. He felt naked without his crossbow, but his girl was holding it tightly, he knew it was in good hands. She laughed quietly, as he led them to the makeshift target range he'd set up the day before.

"Don't really know why I'm surprised by it," She replied, moving slightly closer, and looking down at the crossbow. Her eyes were bright and full of excitement. (Y/N) had been begging her boyfriend for months to teach her to use the crossbow, or at the very least hunting. Not because she was actually particularly interested in it, but because it was such a big part of his and Merle's life. And when Daryl had learnt that, he damn near melted. Stupid, affectionate woman, she remembered him saying, despite the faint blush on his face. "Y'know my mom's been pestering me about getting you to teach her how to use this thing as soon as she found out you used a crossbow."

Daryl glanced over to her, his lips twitched upwards and shook his head. Her mom, Lily, was so sweet on him, and he wasn't quite sure why. However, it was clear that she hadn't been swayed by Merle yet. Couldn't exactly blame her though. His brother was an asshole at the best of times.

"She still movin' to South Carolina?" (Y/N) and Daryl kept walking, but he used a hand on her back to direct her more to the left. She nodded with a small grin but didn't say anything. They walked in comfortable silence, occasionally sneaking glances when the other wasn't looking before they reached their destination. There were various little targets, ranging between small empty bottles and bags full of rice or hay. Daryl took her into a small box on the floor made out of twigs so that there were bigger targets closer to her and smaller targets further away. He started explaining how to pull the string back to the latch, showing her and then letting her do it herself.

(Y/N) brought the crossbow up to rest near her shoulder, closing one eye to look down the arrow track as Daryl had instructed her.

"Merle ever show ya how to use a rifle?" Daryl inquired. He was stood right behind her, so her back was nearly pressed to his chest, and his head was hovering over her other shoulder.

"Would it be Merle if he hadn't?" (Y/N) shot back with a playful smirk and he just chuckled, reaching around and adjusting her grip on the crossbow. He placed his hands over hers, and he could already tell she'd be teasing him about it later, especially if she saw him blushing. Well, if she saw him, he could shoot back that she was blushing too. Win-win, he supposed

"Ya don't damn act like it. Y'ain't even holdin' it right," Daryl returned, but it was light and he wouldn't deny the grin on his face if she said anything. (Y/N) tightened her grip, finding comfort in his hands over hers, keeping her eye on the arrow track. "Now, ya gotta line up the bolt and the arrow track, and when ya think ya got it, ya pull the trigger."

(Y/N) couldn't deny how at home he seemed out there, in the wilderness, with his crossbow. He was content, as content as a Dixon could be at one time, and the way he hovered around her made her fight back a smile. The asshole was just adorable and he didn't realise it.

He watched as her eyebrows scrunched more in concentration, and he felt himself soften when she stuck her tongue out slightly. Fucking hell, she was gonna make his mean redneck facade crack. Not like it mattered, there wasn't anyone around.

With a deep breath, (Y/N) lined up the arrow track with one of the rice-filled bags closer to the box, and pulled the trigger. The bolt went flying out, and the string lurched forward, making her jump and Daryl let out a loud laugh at the movement. The bolt stabbed into the floor right beside the bag and she let out a huff.

"That's pretty good for a first try. I want ya to try and hit one of the bottles. Don't matter if ya miss," He said, short hair sticking to his forehead in the Georgia heat while he moved from behind her to go and retrieve the bolt. As he was getting the bolt, (Y/N) pulled the string back, so when he returned she slid the bolt along the arrow track. She stood back up, and Daryl returned to his place behind her. A few seconds later, the bolt whistled through the air, and once again narrowly missed the bottle. But she felt pride blooming in her chest. It was further away, after all! She turned to her boyfriend with an excited grin, happiness seeping from her and Daryl couldn't help but smile back at her.

They continued like this for a few hours, until (Y/N) arms started to hurt from holding the crossbow up, and they started heading back. She was trailing ahead of Daryl, back in that comfortable, and very frequent, silence. He had to admit, she was pretty damn good. Her aim wasn't bad and after some practice, she'd probably be as good as him. But the excitement she'd had even when she'd missed the targets, her grin every time she got a little bit closer, made his heart feel full. If he hadn't been certain before, he definitely was now. She was it for him. He was gonna marry her someday, even if it wasn't his thing. He was gonna be with her.

The ground-shaking below her feet and an ear-splitting explosion, as well as a faint flash of bright light under the door, knocked her to her side and pushed her from her reminiscing. What the fuck? Silence stretched for a minute before panic started, and footsteps raced past the door. (Y/N) pressed herself against the door, and a second bang went off, close enough to knock some debris into her door, and send it shooting open and slamming her back. She groaned, using the wall to stand up, but she shot behind the door when she heard the all too familiar noise of snarlers. A lone snarler stumbled past her door, and she banged her hand against the wall, just quiet enough for it to only lure the one. It paused and growled, turning into the room. (Y/N) slowly bent down and picked up the bit of debris from the floor, before stepping out and slamming the debris into the snarlers head before it had time to see her. There were more coming, the explosion would have lured them for miles and miles. She had to think fast, but with only the sharp bit of debris, that would definitely break soon, she didn't have many options. Fuck. She was gonna have to cut the snarler open. Great.

With a small shiver, and a pause much longer than she probably should have risked with the oncoming storm of snarlers, she lifted the snarlers ripped shirt and brought the debris down into its stomach. Resisting the urge to vomit (god she'd never get used to that smell), she pressed on until the debris snapped and she started pulling out guts. A disgusted noise escaped her as she started spreading the guts all over her body, along her arms and legs, and, unfortunately, her face too. (Y/N) couldn't resist a shudder as the smell got caught in her nose. Jesus, she couldn't wait to find a creek or a river already and wash this shit off. At least she could go out with the snarlers now, and maybe find a weapon, and maybe her stuff. Not that she had much worth saving. She had her pictures and right now, she was just grateful for that. After giving her lungs a much-needed breath of fresh air, she walked into the sunlight, squinting in the sun, at a snail-like pace. Blend in, please for the love of fuck, please blend in. (Y/N) turned a corner, and she couldn't stop herself from hesitated. Terminus was flooded. There was no fucking chance of her getting her stuff back. She had to get out. Gunshots were filling the air, doing nothing to deter the snarlers.

However, while the snarlers hadn't noticed her, someone from Terminus clearly had. A ginger woman surged forward towards her, knife in hand. Perfect. She immediately stretched her arm out to slash at her face, but (Y/N) managed to duck under her arm and grab it, but the woman twisted and pressed it forward. It inched closer and closer to her face, and a bit too close to her eye, and (Y/N) used the grip she had on her wrist to push it back. Apparently, their strengths were matched, since they didn't move for a second. She grunted lightly, before glancing down. While she was defending her face, this woman had left her legs undefended, and she smiled at her before kicking her knee, hard. The woman went down with a cry of pain, clutching her knee and allowing the knife to clatter to the floor and (Y/N) didn't hesitate to pick it up and stab it into the woman's temple. She let out a sigh, leaning on her thighs for a minute. Christ being locked in a tiny room for a few days and launching into the fight right after wasn't a good idea. The snarlers were getting closer, and (Y/N) plucked the gun from the woman's holster and walked forward, allowing herself to fall into the herd.

She was trying to follow the herd's direction while also looking for an exit. There was a lot of shouting and gunshots and screaming surrounding her, not to mention the groaning and growling of the snarlers, and it was getting harder and harder to decipher which direction any of it was coming from. Her eyes skimmed her surroundings. There had to be an exit somewhere. Right as she thought that, she noticed a gap in the fence, like someone, had torn through it and she started trying to move towards it, as much as she could without alerting the snarlers. Despite the loud noises surrounding her, one noise that was getting easier and easier to pick out were gunshots that were getting closer and closer and the herd getting shoved into two, like a twisted version of Moses splitting the sea. A group of maybe 12-14 people were sprinting through, moving too fast for her to really see them properly, shooting and slashing as they approached the fence. (Y/N) continued on in the herd, hoping she wouldn't get caught in their rampage. It wasn't until one of them got grabbed, a little boy, and was getting pulled forward by a snarler. Some cowboy looking guy froze in his tracks, probably his dad. But he wouldn't get there in time, she knew that. And she wasn't going to have another Anna. Not again. She rushed forward, raising her gun and shooting the snarler right between its eyes. The little boy stared up at her, fear and shock still present in his eyes and her eye softened, before the father came running up. The father pulled him away immediately and stared her down like she hadn't just saved his son's life. She narrowed her eyes and yelled "go!" and thankfully, they didn't hesitate in following her instructions. But now, the snarlers knew she wasn't one of them. She had to make a break for that gap. This would be fun.

(Y/N) felt dead on her feet. She'd been walking for days, and while she was sure it was gonna kill her eventually, every day she was closer and closer to Washington. Maybe another one or two days and she'd be there. Her supplies were running short again, not that she'd found many after Terminus. Most places had been picked clean by now. There had to be something in Washington. There had to be. And while the realist part of her knew she shouldn't get her hopes up, another part of her was really hoping that Daryl would have made his way North, and be there, with his weird attachment to his crossbow, and his much too short hair, and following behind her louder than life brother-in-law, and the fiddling of his wedding band whenever he was nervous, or angry, or even just lost in thought. She hadn't really let herself think about him much since the world had gone to shit, apart from in Terminus, and it made her heart hurt. He could be dead. He could have died months ago and she was just holding out false hope. Merle could be dead.

That only reminded her of why she hadn't let herself think of her family much. (Y/N) shook her head and focused on the woods surrounding her. There was a map tucked into the side of the worn backpack she'd found two nights ago, and there were a knife and a gun strapped around her waist. Like the rest of her resources, she was running low on bullets. Maybe ten or eleven bullets left. Knife work had become common practice unless she'd gotten caught in a tight spot, which thankfully hadn't been often. But with each day and the lack of supplies, she was getting weak again, and she knew if there was nothing in Washington, she would probably die. And it was fucking terrifying. She was just thanking whatever god, or lack of, was up there that her husband had taught her to track and to navigate the woods.

Nightfall was nearing, and (Y/N) had managed to find the ruins of an old gas station. If there'd been more choice, she would have found somewhere else. It was too similar to where she'd stayed with her group near the beginning. With Kai, her mom, Andrew... But there was nowhere else, and it was safe enough, so it would have to do. It beat sleeping in a tree again. Seriously, sleeping in trees was going to destroy her back. After clearing the gas station, and trying to barricade the doors as much as possible, she opened the latch of the room, closing it behind her, and climbed onto the roof. She placed her bag down on the roof, and hesitantly lay down, using her bag as a pillow, keeping her knife and gun close. Nowadays, as it had been further proved by Terminus, it wasn't just the dead she had to worry about. After a lot of tossing, turning, rumbling of her stomach and worrying, her body finally shut down, and she let herself sleep.

Dawn was barely breaking when she was woken by the sound of brakes squealing. Fuck. People weren't something that reassured her. Not anymore By instinct, the sleep was shaken from her body and the grogginess was non-existent as she crawled back to the latch, panic starting to rise in her chest.

"You're sure it was here you saw someone from Hilltop? Boss is coming to check it out himself," An unfamiliar, and much too loud considering how many walkers were around. The door of their vehicle was slammed shut.

" I saw 'em last night. Just the one, killed a couple dead fucks and barricaded the doors. Looked tired, sick, think they ran away from Hilltop or something," Another voice replied. Oh fuck. This guy had seen her. He had to know where she was. She was gonna have to have a mad dash for freedom. Carefully, she opened the latch, making sure to drop into a crouch when she got back into the store and tiptoed towards the backroom where the least barricaded door was, only made of a relatively flimsy. metal shelf Last night, she'd been too exhausted to barricade it properly, which now she looked back was unbelievably stupid, however it was also potentially saving her life now. The two voices continued as they got closer to the storefront, and (Y/N) used the little strength she had to push the barricade out of the way and opened the door. However in her rush to escape, she hadn't noticed the bit of broken metal jutting out of the shelf, so as she pushed her body against it, it torn through the side of her leg. Red seeped down her leg, making a small pool on the floor quickly. (Y/N), you fucking idiot.

"Fuck!" She whispered. Fucking hell that hurt! She moved to try and apply pressure but the sound of glass smashing in the front of the store made her freeze. She didn't have time to stop, she had to get out of here, even if it killed her. Something about the way these people talked alone felt off. Honestly, she wasn't sure if it wasn't just her paranoia at this point, but after Terminus and that night at the camp, she wouldn't risk it. Just as she limped outside, she heard another squeal and she could only assume another vehicle had pulled up. Her bag, her body, everything felt heavy as she stumbled forward and back into the woods. She wasn't getting far, but if she could get just far enough that she could hide, maybe she'd be okay. Knowing her luck, it wasn't damn likely. (Y/N) couldn't help but be hyper-aware of the blood trail she had to be leaving behind. She managed to get a fair distance before the pain searing up her leg stopped her, and she hid inside a bush. She didn't have any other options. She heard swearing and shouting, and some snarlers getting taken down and eventually, two men came barging out the partially open back door. One of them was holding a rifle, up and ready to shoot and the other one had a revolver. Both of them looked like the perfect example of someone who could ruin (Y/N)'s day.

They were looking around, still on guard, and it was clear they were looking for snarlers until she saw a new guy on the roof where she'd been just minutes ago and called down that she wasn't there. Well hell, they were definitely looking for her now. One hand was clutching her leg, desperately trying to stop the bleeding as much as possible so she didn't bleed out, while the other gripped her gun tightly, ready to fight if she had to. She had to bite her lip to stop her from crying out as she applied more and more pressure. It wasn't deep enough to have hit a vein, and she knew if she'd hit an artery she would already be dead and eating these fuckers, but it was deep enough to not stop bleeding with a little bit of pressure. Upon hearing that (Y/N) wasn't on the roof they cursed, and pressed further on and unluckily, nearer to her bush. Rifle guy whispered to revolver guy and revolver guy went back around the building towards where she assumed the vehicles were. Maybe he was going for the boss? She watched carefully, before letting her gaze fall back to her leg, applying more pressure and she was starting to taste something metallic in her mouth as well as she bit her lip harder. Apparently, that split second was all it took for the rifle guy to creep forward right in front of her bush. It made her think that they'd known where she was all along.

There was the end of a rifle right in her face when she looked up and she couldn't stop the alarm from spilling into her eyes as they met his. This guy had a smirk on his face, looking very accomplished. The living didn't want to give him a fucking break, did they? Knowing her chances against a rifle were disadvantaged, she stood up slowly from her hiding, wincing as she put a little pressure on her leg. The barrel followed her as she rose, even as she stumbled slightly on her injured leg. The pair stared at each other in a moment of tense silence, and she tried her hardest not to let her internal panic spread to the outside, and (Y/N) scowled at him, eyes sharp and narrowed. What she was about to do was the dumbest plan she'd ever had, but with a fucked up leg and nothing to patch her up, none of her options was looking particularly great. So, she quickly raised her gun and fired, so soon he only just reacted. The bullet skimmed his head, tearing a bit of skin from the side of it, and he tackled her, his rifle falling out of either of their reach, but not before catching her face and leaving a nick on her forehead. A cry, borderline scream, escaped her as his knee fell onto her wound, but she gritted her teeth and stretched to his belt where a knife was protruding. He pulled back, but she'd just managed to grab it and turned them around so she was straddling him awkwardly, her injured leg at an angle to avoid any pressure.

(Y/N) raised the knife to stab it down into his head, seeing an angry but smug expression on his face. She couldn't help but wonder how the fuck someone in his situation could be smug, but her question was answered by the clicking of four or five, as far as she could tell, guns.

"I'd drop that if I were you," Rifle guy smirked from underneath her, and she glared but reluctantly released the knife and let it drop. He shoved her off and she let out a grunt of pain. Shit that leg was going to get infected. Her gaze raised to look at the semi-circle of men around her, along with one woman, with dark-haired and bleached tips pulled into a bun and a deadly look in her eyes. The rifle guy stood up and picked up his rifle and joined his people. A slight glimmer in the corner of her eye in the dawn sun made her look up, and there he stood in dead centre. He clutched a barbed wire wrapped bat, a glove on the hand holding it, and she had to admire his weapon. It was pretty damn cool. Baseball bat guy was wearing a white shirt, super impractical for the apocalypse she couldn't stop herself thinking, with a leather jacket on top. His hair was dark, but greying along the sides and in his scruff. And he was grinning, and while there was no malice in it, it didn't make her feel at ease by any means. If anything, it made her squirm more. His eyes raked down her body and suddenly she felt small. He was a predator, and she was the prey. Oh fuck. He whistled, almost akin to that of a wolf whistle.

"God damn lady! If that didn't make my pants tight I don't, know what will! Adam, you should be ashamed. She nearly killed you, and she was fucking injured!" Baseball guy grinned, stepping forward swinging the bat slightly. (Y/N) didn't say a word, just glared at him and she saw entertainment dancing behind his eyes. He crouched in front of her. She was starting to get really sick of egotistical men who had a little bit of power over her crouching in front of her. Fucking condescending assholes. His eyes dragged down to her wound, and he pressed two fingers to it, making her hiss.

"Go to hell," She growled, leaning towards his face. If only to prove she wasn't intimidated despite the terror in her lungs. He let out a loud laugh. But unlike the murderers at camp or Gareth, it wasn't fake or dark. It was a genuine laugh. Somehow that worried her more.

"Is that any way to talk to your saviour?" He asked with a cockiness that made her skin crawl. Her glare deepened, and he removed his hand from her wound. He wiped his bloody hand on his jeans, before using it to grip her chin. She had to resist the urge to pull her face away. This guy was more dangerous than the other asshole men she'd met. He was calm but dangerous. Like a landmine that hasn't yet gone off. One wrong move and he'd explode. After a second her eyebrows raised in question. "If I hadn't come, you would have killed Adam, not that I could blame you," He leant forward to her ear whispering the next part "He's made moves on some of my wives before. You'd be doing me a favour. However, my loyal crew here would have had to kill you. But I sent my crew and stopped you, so you get to live. You should thank me."

With that last sentence, she was suddenly back nearly two years in front of a dim campfire, with Andrew and her mom at her side. Kai's body, wide-eyed and still bleeding, was slumped in front of her, her mom's throat was slashed and she was gurgling, trying her hardest to cry out. Andrew was beside her, the ghost of a triumphant grin on his face and a bullet between his eyes.

"Really you should be thanking us."

Baseball guy was watching her with a wide grin, as she came back to reality. She was trembling, and tears were building in the corner of her eyes. God damn it.

"Should have a stony as shit lady like you had met some fucked up people. The way I see it, you're in my debt," He heaved himself up with a deep sigh, still holding the barbed wire bat, which he placed beneath her chin, the spikes cutting and pricking her skin lightly. He clicked his tongue and his eyebrows flashed up quickly. "Hell, woman, you gotta stop giving me that look. Makes me wanna take you back home and fuck you six ways to Sunday."

It took every fibre in her body to stop her from shuddering, and she already knew that when the adrenaline ran out she would be having some form of breakdown. That would be fun

"But, we can discuss that later," He said with a wink "As I was saying, you're in my debt, and you have two ways to pay it off."

"Which are?" She ground out, pressing harder on her wound. Oh, she was definitely going to pass out from blood loss soon. She was already starting to feel woozy.

"See fellas! This is what I mean when I say I want direct! Goddamn, I can tell you are gonna fit right in!" (Y/N)'s unamused look made Baseball guy laugh heartily before continuing on "You can either join us, work for me, we break you down and you become my soldier. Maybe if I'm lucky I can convince you to become a lovely wife for me," He shot her a wink and words of rejection were already building on her tongue "Or, we kill you. Right here and now and leave you for the dead fucks."

Well. She probably should have seen that coming. Men like him wanted few things, and they usually fell along the same lines. From the way he spoke, while he was brash, vulgar and clearly larger than life, he seemed to have a vague, fucked up, set of morals. While he'd talked about fucking her, he'd never suggested forcing it upon her. But she could never be too careful. (Y/N) knew if she tried to run, she wouldn't get anywhere and they'd kill her anyway. Maybe if she went with them, they would patch her up, she'd work there for a while and make an escape. Maybe this guy was just an asshole and his community wasn't bad. From the look of his crew, not likely. Once again, she had limited options. She was getting sick of being in these situations. Baseball guy was watching her, glee in his eyes. However, he was growing impatient, and she could tell when he pushed the barbed wire slightly more into her chin, tearing into her skin, that she knew she had to give him an answer. (Y/N) wasn't stupid enough to deny she was scared. If she wasn't full of so much adrenaline, she would probably be paralysed by it. But she looked up at him, as much as she could with the barbed wire pricking her chin and met his eyes.

"I'll join you."

Being in that room felt too much like Terminus. If it hadn't been for the stitches in her leg, her brain could have tricked her into thinking she was there. It was silent, more so than Terminus. At Terminus, she could at least hear people in the courtyard and walking past the door. She could keep track of time through the sunlight under the door. Here, there was nothing. No light. No noise. Nothing. She didn't know how long she'd been there. They fed her, and at least here the food wasn't expired and once in a while (once a day maybe?) some guy in a scientist coat came in to check and change her bandages. The doctor had told her that Baseball guy was called Negan, but everyone was Negan, which made no fucking sense but she was sure it would in time, and they were in 'The Sanctuary'. Narcissistic bastard. (Y/N) had a strong suspicion that he wasn't supposed to be telling her by the hushed voice he used, but she didn't reject the information. It was the most someone had talked to her in days (hours? Who fucking knew anymore). There had been six doctors visits, so maybe six days if she was right about the time frame, until they pulled her out.

Danica was still storming ahead, but Ben had fallen back to walk beside (Y/N) and Lily, who had an arm around her daughter as she worked through the shock.

"Thank you for saving our asses back there," (Y/N) mumbled quietly and Ben looked to her with a small smile. He shrugged, and turned back to his sister, keeping a careful eye on her. She was pissed, and she got reckless when she was pissed.

"Don't worry about it. Maybe you can save my ass in the future as payback," He quipped lightly, and a small giggle escaped Lily. They were deep in the woods by now, and the dim flashlights Danica and Ben were holding were the only things stopping them from being completely blind. (Y/N) smiled at him. He seemed sweet, unlike his bitchy companion.

"Maybe," She responded faintly. Milky white eyes kept flashing in front of her, guts spilling from a stomach and she shook her head viciously to remove the image. Ben's face suddenly fell, and his eyebrows furrowed as he began running towards Danica. Lily and (Y/N) followed soon after as soon as they saw Danica holding someone at gunpoint. There were four of them, one of them stood in front, wearing a military-style uniform, holding a gun and a military-grade backpack on their back. Two of them stood in front of a little girl, no older than 6 or 7. One of them had short ginger hair with thick eyebrows, looking stony and glaring at Danica. The other kept his hand hovering near the ginger guy and the other hand in front of the kid. He had long, shoulder-length green hair that was starting to fade. (Y/N) rushed to Danica's side, narrowing her eyes at the strangers.

"Hey, hey, hey, look we don't want no trouble. Just wanna get down ta Georgia," The military one said, attempting to defuse the situation, placing the gun down on the floor.

"We have a kid for fuck's sake," The ginger one snapped and (Y/N) looked to Danica. When she didn't move to put the gun away, she put a hand on her arm to get her to lower it. Danica glared daggers at her but hesitantly lowered the gun. The little kid was looking scared, but she had these big green eyes. (Y/N) was never one for kids, she and Daryl had had that discussion before, but she was cute, and she could see herself getting attached to her.

"Hey, alright, it's okay. We just had a tough time, we're all a little on edge. I'm (Y/N) Dixon, this is my mom, Lily, and these two are Danica and Ben," (Y/N) introduced trying to give them a reassuring smile. The tension in the green-haired guy's shoulders deflated slightly and the little girl moved forward a little.

"I'm Kai Thompson," The military one smiled, picking their gun back up and shoving it in their holster. "This is Andrew and Oliver Stewart, and their daughter Anna."

Lily crouched down in front of Anna giving her a little grin, as she moved from behind her dads. She extended a hand to the little girl who took it reluctantly. Her dads were watching carefully, still not trusting her entirely.

"Heya Anna, I'm Lily," She said softly, shaking her hand gently. (Y/N) folded her arms slowly, giving the group a once over, and she noticed how Ben kept his hand over his knife.

"Where y'all headed?" Kai asked, and (Y/N) could pick out that strong Georgia drawl anywhere. It only made her think of Daryl and Merle, out in the middle of nowhere, possibly dead by now. She had to get home.

"Down to Georgia, you?" Ben replied, raising his eyebrows. (Y/N) could feel eyes burning into the back of her head and it didn't take a genius to figure out it was Danica.

"Us too. Meant to be a safe zone in Atlanta," Kai answered, finally dragging their eyes away from Danica. There was a look of budding trust in their eyes, and (Y/N) could tell that they were going to keep each other safe.

When the door creaked open, (Y/N) squinted at the artificial light that flooded the room. Oh, this was way too much like Terminus. A deep chuckle made it abundantly clear about who was standing in the doorway, despite her current lack of sight. As her eyes adapted, she saw him extending a hand to her to help her up.

"C'mon gorgeous, think you've spent enough time in this shithole. Much too disgusting for a lady like you," Negan smirked, and she glared back at him but took his hand. He helped her to her feet, catching her as she toppled slightly on her bad leg. She could tell he was resisting the urge to make a shitty joke about 'falling for him' and she was glad he didn't say it. If he had, she probably would have hit him and sealed her fate as dead.

"Where are we going?" (Y/N)'s throat felt like acid, as she limped beside him. He was leading her back through the corridors deep in the Sanctuary and upstairs, which took her much longer than she'd hoped. Despite how long it took her, Negan didn't lose his patience this and with him still clutching that damn bat, that she'd learnt he called Lucille, she had to be grateful. He was even helping her when he could. However, after being alone for so long, she hated herself for relying on someone else, especially someone like him.

"You've got a big test, beautiful. Gotta make sure you belong here. And I really hope you do, because I wanna pound into you at least once even if you won't marry me," Negan grinned and part of her wished she were still in that cage. Sure, she was convinced she was going crazy in there, but at least she was away from his uncouth comments.

"Not interested," (Y/N) shot back, almost immediately, narrowing her eyes. That only made Negan laugh again, helping her up a small set of stairs.

"Well, that's a damn shame. Never say never though, princess. I'm sure I can convince you," Did he ever stop talking? She knew he was trying to get under her skin, and unfortunately, he was succeeding.

"You've got other wives, fuck them instead," She snapped, sarcastically. Shit, her smart mouth was going to get her killed someday. Pick your damn battles (Y/N).

"Just cause I've got wives doesn't mean I can't mess around some, right darling?" He returned. That cocky grin didn't fall from his face, but there was danger hiding in his eyes. Stop pushing, stop pushing.

"Clearly we have different definitions of marriage," With her response, Negan's eyes darted to her ring finger and he chuckled humourlessly when he saw the silver band. Well, she had just shown her hand. Good fucking job.

"Married, huh? What a shame. Always the hottest ones that are taken. He still out there?" He asked, voice light with glee but she looked away, glaring and biting her tongue. To (Y/N)'s relief, he dropped the subject as they reached a huge room, once again looking a bit too similar to the empty warehouses of Terminus.

Negan removed his hand from hers and moved her to be leant against the metal railing. Below them most if not all of the Saviours were gathered, looking scared and confused, and there was a guy tied to a chair in the dead centre of the group. (Y/N) managed to pick out a small huddle of women, all wearing strappy black dresses and tall heels. His wives. The thought made her squeamish as she looked at the discomfort on their faces. All of a sudden, he slammed Lucille on the metal railing beside her, making her jump out of her skin. He placed a hand on her back, but she limped to the side, just out of his reach. She didn't want his filthy hands on her. Everyone's heads shot up, and they fell to one knew. What kind of cult-level shit was this?

"As all of you know, when we save someone new, when we get a new recruit... they have to prove their loyalty. You know what's about to happen, and you know it isn't going to be pretty. But we got a rule breaker in our midst and a new recruit, so why not kill two birds with one stone?" Negan started down the stairs just beside where (Y/N) was positioned, and she watched him cautiously. "Now, I wish I could let this slide, I wish I could ignore the rules, but this man here betrayed us. Our little AJ here decided he didn't want to spy on our friends at the Kingdom anymore and made a runner! Now, you all know that one of the things I can't stand is a traitor. We're all we have in this shitty world and we can't be turning our backs on one another! Why can't I ignore our little rule-breaker here?"

"The rules keep us alive!" Seriously, this had to be a cult. (Y/N) didn't know how much longer she could stay here. They were all fucking insane.

"That's right! We survive, we save others, we bring civilisation! Rules keep us alive," The guy in the chair, AJ, eyes were darting around, filled to the brim with terror. "And we need to show that to our newest member! So, it's time to punish our dear AJ, and time for our newest member to prove her loyalty. Arat, hand me the saw."

The woman (Y/N) had seen at the gas station the other day strutted over, handing Negan a sharp saw, with the hint of a smirk on her mouth. God, what was wrong with the people here? (Y/N) felt her blood run cold as Negan took the saw and stepped towards AJ, who was starting to panic, wriggling in his bonds. Negan looked up to her, and he stifled a laugh at how tense she was. Without any other words, Negan pulled AJ's sleeve up, and rest the saw on his arm. He wasn't. He couldn't. But she was wrong. Negan brought the saw down, slicing it into the guy's arm. AJ let out a blood-curdling scream, and (Y/N) felt her blood run cold. Her eyes were wide, and she could feel panic sinking into her lungs. There was red everywhere, dripping down his arm, onto the floor, staining Negan's shirt, his scruff, his jacket. He just kept screaming and screaming and screaming. She couldn't breathe. The sickening noise of bones snapping and seperating, of flesh tearing filled the air. What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck.

Eventually, the guy passed out, just as Negan yanked his dismembered arm off. (Y/N) was frozen in spot. What the fuck, what the fuck. He looked at her again grinning and used AJ's arm to wave at her. (Y/N) managed to drag her eyes away and looked around the room. The saviour's faces were all blank, no one showing any emotion apart from Negan's wives, who were crying in horror.

"Doc, take him away, fix him up. Fellas, bring it in!" The doctor who had been checking (Y/N)'s leg started untying AJ and quickly whisked him away on a stretcher that had been placed to one side. There was an all too familiar noise of a snarler behind her, and (Y/N)'s head snapped to look at the doorway Negan had to lead her through earlier, and there stood two saviours leading a snarler on a weird adapted leash. It was reaching out, teeth-gnashing, and she tried to scurry back, but her stupid leg decided she had moved too quickly. She tripped and started to fall back but was stopped by Negan once again. She hadn't heard him come back upstairs, but to be fair she was more focused on the snarler. He wrapped an arm around her waist while she tried to move away, and she thrashed slightly. She had no fucking weapon, what the fuck was he doing? She couldn't breathe. She couldn't breathe, she couldn't breathe.

"See, if you're going to be one of us, you can't be afraid to get your hands dirty, and do every little task I ask of you," Negan announced, handing AJ's arm to her. "Feed it to the dead fuck."

"You alright, princess? You look pale," Negan asked. He'd moved her to what looked like a meeting room after she'd...

(Y/N) didn't say a word. She still hadn't fully comprehended what just happened and she was just staring at the floor, silently. She couldn't reply. Even if she wanted to. Red everywhere, flesh tearing, bones cracking and creaking. Negan walked over to where she sat, placing Lucille on the table right in front of her, before he placed his hands on her shoulders, to which she'd flinched much to his satisfaction, and leant down next to her ear.

"Okay, better question. Who are you?" He whispered, and she squirmed at the feeling of his breath on her neck.

"I'm Negan."

"Hey Spencer, are Aaron and Eric back yet?" (Y/N) questioned, jogging over to the gate. They should have been back two days ago, but the storm must have stopped them and she couldn't deny how worried she'd been. Deanna had let her into Alexandria about two weeks ago, just after Negan had sent her on her task. She shouldn't be getting attached. She knew that. And she knew it would make it all hurt later, but despite how weak everyone in this place, and how little they knew of the struggles outside the walls, they were the first trustworthy people she'd met since Kai and the others. Spencer let out a heavy sigh, rolling his eyes.

"If they'd been back, do you think you wouldn't be the first to know?" He snapped, and she raised her eyebrows, daring him to keep pushing. She'd beaten his ass twice before, she would happily do it again. The way he and his brother dealt with runs was ridiculous, and they'd fought over it on more than one occasion. Deanna had nearly kicked her out the second time it got ugly.

In the short time she'd been there, she'd found herself growing close to Aaron and Eric. When she arrived, Deanna could sense something was suspicious about her. As much as the woman irritated her, (Y/N) couldn't deny her sharp wit. She'd put her in with Aaron and Eric after the latter had offered, in some weird hope that they would stop her from getting into trouble. (Y/N) had to hand it to her, apart from a few odd occasions, the couple had been keeping her out of fights, especially when she first joined the community. After so long out there, she was always on guard, and while she didn't think she'd be able to ever get rid of that, she felt safer here. From the snarlers at the very least.

After Nicholas walked over to take his shift on guard duty, Spencer shoved past her. That guy had serious issues. With a small sigh, (Y/N) turned around and walked back into her neighbourhood. She had to get back to her job. Even though she'd hated the idea of working again, of pretending that the world hadn't gone to hell, after a few days, she had started falling into a routine. Since she had much more experience out there than anyone in the whole of Alexandria (not even Eric or Aaron really had any idea what it was like despite being out there so often), she went on runs with Spencer, Nicholas and Aidan, though she knew there was something slightly fishy going on there. Half the time Aidan and Nicholas would wander off somewhere and leave her with Spencer. Spencer only came on runs sometimes, but he would share looks with the other men before they left. Part of her had been tempted to go with them, but she got an awful feeling that prying would do her little good. Especially if they started prying into her business because of it. That would get them killed. And probably her too.

Every week, she had to meet someone from The Sanctuary with information about Alexandria. He needed to know whether it was worth making a deal with them. At first, it had been every two days, and Negan had come himself, to ensure she didn't try anything. But after a few days, he started sending random Saviours, most of which she'd never seen before and extended the time between. She hated them. Every inch of her soul hated herself for ever accepting Negan's offer. She should have died that morning. That would have been better than living with the constant crawling guilt every time anyone showed her any kindness. Or the nightmares of AJ and that snarler that would haunt her every time she closed her eyes. Part of her was tempted to run away, but she knew they'd find her. Negan wouldn't let her go, now he had her unless she was very lucky. But as she'd learnt the past few years, she definitely wasn't.

When she wasn't on runs, she was helping run Alexandria, not that Deanna ever realised it. (Y/N) had learnt that suggesting was more effective than demanding. If she made it sound like it was Deanna's idea, it was more likely to get through to her. That was the only reason some of her ideas had even gotten put into place, like putting locks on houses of the elderly to lock at night in case they passed and turned in their sleep.

"(Y/N)!" A familiar voice sounded and (Y/N) turned around to see Enid jogging over. The teen was known to be extremely antisocial, and according to one of Jessie's sons, Ron, it had taken her nearly three weeks to say anything when she first joined. But for some reason, she'd gotten attached to (Y/N), and she stuck by her as much as she could. Maybe it was the fact that they both knew how much the post-apocalyptic world outside the walls sucked. Enid came to walk beside her as she started heading back to the house she shared with Aaron and Eric. God, she had to stop getting attached. They would hate her later.

"You doing okay, kiddo? I thought Pete was meant to be teaching you and Denise some medical crap?" (Y/N) questioned, shoving her hands in her pockets. Enid shook her head and rolled her eyes.

"He was, but he only wanted to teach Denise because I'm 'just a kid'" She grumbled, using sarcastic air quotations that made (Y/N) chortle. Enid gave a small smile, one that only (Y/N) really got to see.

"Well, kid, you already know how I feel about that man," The two continued walking, exchanging repetitive conversation about the pantry, Pete, Enid bitched about Ron and Sam before they reached her house. They stepped inside and collapsed onto the couch.

"Hey, I was wondering, next time you're on a run, could you try and grab some more comics? I've nearly read all mine, and Sam keeps stealing them," Enid asked, bashfully and (Y/N) smiled. The kid played adult more often than not, and it was nice seeing her actually acting like a child.

"Of course, Enid, I'll see what I can find," She answered, and Enid went to thank her when Denise came crashing through the front door, making the pair jump to their feet. Shit, walkers? An attack?

"They're back and Eric is in the infirmary, c'mon!" Denise dashed off again, and (Y/N) was hot on her heels, sprinting to the infirmary. What the hell did that idiot do now? How bad was he injured? When they reached the infirmary, (Y/N) didn't pause for even a second, and went barreling to Eric's side. Pete was hovering near his feet, but she couldn't help but notice how deathly pale her friend was.

"What did you do, you dumbass?" She demanded, but Eric could hear the pure relief in her voice, and he smiled back at her, despite the small glare on her face.

"Just took a page out of your book," He teased, but let out a groan as Pete started setting his ankle, which she was starting to guess was broken.

"Be careful, asshole," She hissed, and Pete sent her a deathly glare. Eric put a hand over hers, to reassure her. She knew it wasn't Pete's fault, but she was still winding down from the worry.

After about half an hour, Eric was moved home, with the help of Denise, Enid and (Y/N), and she hadn't moved from his side, except to get him anything he needed. Enid had left to give them some space. According to Eric, Aaron had found a new group of about 14 people, and at some point, they'd split up and half of them had found and saved him from getting eaten by snarlers. She made a mental note to thank them later. Aaron had gone with the group for their interviews. Yeah, she remembered hers. Even then she'd found Deanna pretentious. Eric was the one who noticed Aaron walking back to the house, and he laughed when (Y/N) sprinted out of the house to nearly tackle him in a hug. Aaron had to step back a few steps so he didn't fall over, and he was more than a little surprised. She didn't show affection very often, but he supposed he'd probably scared her by being out for so long. Over his shoulder, she couldn't help but notice some kid in a sheriffs hat with his dad. Hell, he looked a lot like that kid from Terminus. But she was probably imagining it.

"You can't just stay in here until my ankle heals, you need to leave, do your job, actually talk to people. Besides, Denise is bringing my crutches later," Eric stated, folding his arms. Aaron was stood behind him from where he sat on the couch, and they were ganging up on her.

"When you first got here, we didn't stay here every day while you had that gash in your leg," Aaron agreed, and (Y/N) started messing with her ring absently, narrowing her eyes.

"You barely knew me then. It's been two weeks and I know you better now," She shot back, starting to pace slightly.

"Okay, look. If you go out for at least an hour, you can come back and check on me. I can survive for an hour, as long as I have a book or something," Eric tried to reason, and (Y/N) paused, holding his gaze. Fuck, they weren't going to let this go until she went outside. It was two against one, and she wasn't going to win this one.

"Alright, fine. One hour, but then I'm coming right back," She snapped grumpily, and the men both grinned. "But let it be known, I'm not happy about this."

"Oh, believe me, we know," Aaron laughed, before kissing Eric's cheek and heading out the door. (Y/N) went to walk out but Eric caught her arm.

"I'll be fine, (Y/N). I promise," He stated and she sighed, leaning down to give him a brief hug before nodding and waking out the door after Aaron. He was stood out front, talking to a large group. Must be the new group, since she knew all the faces here by now. The kid (Y/N) had seen yesterday raised his arm, waving at her with a kind smile, and she waved back, beaming. Then it dropped and she froze, as her eyes caught with some in the small crowd. Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit. She had to be hallucinating. This couldn't be real

"Daryl?" She heard someone say, but it sounded like her. She couldn't move. This was it. She'd lost her mind, she'd gone crazy. She felt her eyes building with tears, as the breeze blew her hair into her face.

His crossbow, the one he'd taught her how to use so many years ago now, fell to the ground with a clatter, and suddenly he was moving, running, closer and closer until he stopped right in front of her. Her eyes darted all over his body. This felt so real. Could it be real? There was a moment of dead silence between them, where she couldn't hear the confused muttering of the group behind her. Where she couldn't see the wide grin on Aaron's face as he put the pieces together. Then suddenly, Daryl launched forward, yanking her into him so tightly she thought she felt her ribs creak.

Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck. She wasn't crazy. He was there, he was right fucking there, holding her so tightly, a hand on the back of her head keeping her locked against him. Her fingers stabbed into the back of his vest, and she was whispering against his neck without even realising it.

"You're alive, you're alive, you're here," Over and over. She could feel him trembling and tears dripping onto her neck but she didn't care. Her Daryl was alive. Her husband was alive.

"Holy shit," Daryl choked out, and she felt like she could have cried. She never thought she'd hear that gruff, southern drawl again. She let out a teary laugh and she pulled back just enough so she could see him properly. Her hands drifted from his back to hold his cheeks, thumbs running over his cheeks, still laced with dirt and grime.

"If you haven't brushed your teeth, I'm going to kill you, Dixon," She said with a smile before she tugged him forward into a rough kiss. His hands shifted to her hips and he held on so tightly. Like she would disappear if he let go for even a second. Behind them, she could hear Aaron's voice, filled with glee, and the voice of a woman in a similar tone. Confused voices, borderline shouting, and the sound of footsteps running over. But none of it mattered.

He was alive.

TAGS: OPEN

Tags (for this series): @graniairish @fuseburner @gloomystorm @bxxbxy @browneyes528 @hoemadegrace​

(Some of the tags didn’t work last chapter for some reason I’m sorry!)

#the walking dead #twd #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon x y/n #phoebe writes #blame me #merle dixon #carol peletier #sophia peletier #oc #negan #negan twd #lucille #lucille twd #aaron twd #michonne twd #michonne #rick grimes #carl grimes #lori grimes #beth greene #maggie greene #hershel greene #maggie rhee #glenn rhee #andrea twd #dale twd #the sanctuary

[nuttersincorporated]

Brainladdin Chapter One

Here’s Chapter One of my fanfic based on deez-art’s Brainladdin au. Please check out their art. It’s awesome!

If you haven’t read it yet, the Prologue is here and it’s now been beted (its basically the same with just the odd change of word/fixed punctuation)

Chapter One: A look into the everyday lives of Brainladdin and Wakko.

Fandoms: Animaniacs, Pinky and the Brain and Disney’s Aladdin

Word Count: 1359

Author Notes: Thank you to cawareyoudoin for betering this. Any mistakes left are my own. Here’s where the scientifically accurate version of Twinkle Twinkle Little Star is from.

Once upon a time, in a land far, far away, there was a prosperous land of shining glory. ACMEbah was a city where anyone could succeed, or that was the story those in charge would like the world to believe. The truth was very, very different.

Unfortunately, the Warner-rabia Dream was a lie. While the rich got richer, the poor got poorer. The middle class was almost nonexistent and the better off working class struggled desperately to avoid falling below poverty line. A great many people were born and died in poverty, trapped in a cycle they couldn’t hope to escape.

One poor mouse dreamed of changing things. He wanted to make Warner-rabia the place it pretended to be. He knew that if he could only succeed, he could make ACMEbah a fair and happy place for everyone.

His story has been told many times but the truth has been twisted. The rebellion and anger at an unjust system were slowly removed from the tale to make it more palatable to the ruling classes. Those with the money to bring movies to the big screen could afford to decide what sort of stories got told and how, so they ripped out the heart of this story.

It is time to tell the real tale again. You should know the truth, but be warned; this story is not the one you think you know.

This is the story of Brainladdin as it really happened…

***

“Run!” Brainladdin yelled at Wakko.

He sprinted, as quickly as he could, away from the exploded mess of his latest attempt to take over ACMEbah, and from the angry local citizens. Wakko didn’t run, he was much taller than Brainladdin, instead he chose to walk quickly by his side, so that they would stay together.

Someone yelled something about Brainladdin being a public menace. Brainladdin instinctively ducked right before something large flew over his head.

Wakko turned around, half planning to attack the thrower, but Brainladdin grabbed his leg, trying to drag him away. Wakko knew Brainladdin wouldn’t leave without him, so he picked up the thing that had been thrown and they continued their escape.

They didn’t slow down again until the sound of angry voices faded away. Once they were surrounded by the everyday sounds of the city, Brainladdin stopped and looked Wakko up and down quickly to make sure he hadn’t been hurt. 

“Are you okay?” Brainladdin asked.

Wakko rolled his eyes. “I’m fine, Dad. I wasn’t the one who almost got hit by this.” Wakko held up the thing that had almost hit Brainladdin and he got his first good look at it. It was a huge wooden mallet, almost comical in size.

“I’m not your father,” Brainladdin said automatically but without any real conviction. Then he pointed to the wooden mallet, “You are not keeping it.”

“Oh, please Pops,” Wakko begged, all wide-eyed, innocent sweetness. “You won’t even know it’s there, honest. Look, it can fit in my bag,” Wakko pulled his bag out of a pocket that should have been too small to fit it. He somehow put the mallet inside the bag.

“I…”

“Pleeeeeease!"

“Fine!” Brainladdin said, throwing his hands in the air in defeat. “If it will keep you happy.”

Wakko grinned. “Thanks, Padre.” Wakko put the bag back in his pocket.

Brainladdin rolled his eyes at being called Dad in another language, but ignored it otherwise. “Come, Wakko, we must return to the hovel before it gets dark.”

“Why?”

“Because you need a good night's sleep before I…”

“We,” Wakko interrupted.

“… try to take over ACMEbah!” Brainladdin finished as if Wakko hadn’t spoken.

They made their way back to what could only charitably be called a house.

It was crumbling and old. In theory it was condemned but there was no date set for its demolition. In reality, it had been abandoned in the hopes it would just eventually fall down by itself. Since that hadn’t happened yet, over the years several families had ended up squatting there when they had no other available shelter.

Four families currently sheltered in the building. Brainladdin and Wakko had claimed a single room at the top as their home. It was missing half the roof, and most of the wall on the outside of the building, but it still offered more shelter and was safer than the streets. 

When the two were safely back in their room, Wakko pulled out his bag out of his pocket again and started searching through it. Eventually, he pulled out one small wizened apple. Brainladdin saw the look of disappointment flicker over Wakko’s face before he could hide it. Brainladdin silently cursed himself for being so caught up in schemes that he hadn’t found time to get more food that day.

Wakko cut the apple in half and offered a piece to Brainladdin. Brainladdin shook his head. “No, no. I’m not hungry. You eat it.”  His stomach chose that exact moment to rumble.

Wakko rolled his eyes, trying to push a piece into Brainladdin’s hands. “You need to eat, Pa.” 

Brainladdin glared and refused to take it. 

“I’m not hungry.” He turned away. Brainladdin went to his planning corner, pulled his notebook and pencil from under a loose floorboard, and started to work on another plan. He pointedly ignored the apple half Wakko put down next to him and continued to work.

Five minutes later, the apple part was still uneaten. Brainladdin threw down his pencil and turned to glare at Wakko, “It will go off if nobody eats it.”

“So eat it already.”

“I will not. I have work to do.”

“Well, I guess it’s not going to get eaten then.”

“Wakko… please. Just eat the apple.”

Wakko crossed his arms and stuck out his tongue.

Brainladdin groaned. “If I eat half of what’s left, will you please eat the other half?”

Wakko grinned and cut the apple again. “Sure thing, Dad.”

“How many times do I have to tell you? I’m not your father!” There was no real annoyance in the response. It was an automatic response.

Brainladdin took his quarter of the apple and ate it slowly as Wakko wolfed down his bit. When he was done, he turned to his notebook again and started working.

When the sun set, Wakko climbed under his thin blanket, hugging the moth-eaten teddy bear Brainladdin had given him. “Sing me a song so I can go to sleep?”

Brainladdin rolled his eyes, “If it will make you be quiet.” He walked over to Wakko’s side and sat down next to him before starting to sing,

“Twinkle Twinkle Little Star I know exactly what you are

Opaque ball of hot dense gas Million times our planet’s mass Looking small because you’re far I know exactly what you are”

Wakko yawned, his eyes drooping as Brainladdin continued to sing,

“Atmospheric turbulence Causes rays of light to bend Blurry light gives views subpar Causing twinkling little star

We see you as if in the past Light’s not infinitely fast Lookback time delays our view I know exactly what you do”

Wakko’s eyes shut and his breathing evened out. Brainladdin allowed himself a small fond smile. Then, he stood up and slipped out of their small home, secure in the knowledge that Wakko wouldn’t move before he got back.

Brainladdin made his way through the quiet night streets of ACMEbah. He headed to the richer part of the city and searched through the bins until he’d managed to gather two slightly stale loaves of bread, and a bunch of bruised bananas.

Then he headed home again, glad that he wouldn’t have to waste any more time tomorrow worrying about food. 

Brainladdin checked on Wakko as soon as he was back, and was glad to see him still deep in his slumber. Brainladdin put the food down, and patted Wakko fondly in a way he never would have if Wakko was awake.

“Sleep well,” he whispered. “When I take over, I promise, you’ll never be hungry again.”

When Brainladdin turned away and went to his own bed, Wakko smiled and finally allowed himself to really fall asleep.

#brainladdin au #pinky and the brain #animaniacs #aladdin #cawareyoudoin #deez art #Wakko #The Brain #Brainladdin #my fanfics #Any comments are really appreciated #Including constructive criticism

[jeonstellate]

the fragility of sandcastles

the most vital moments in jimin’s relationship with you happen during concerts.  

๑彡 park jimin x gender neutral!reader

๑彡 idol!au — fluff(?), angst

๑彡 paragraph format — 1.1K words

masterlist

[gif’s full credit belongs solely to its owner]

๑彡 this is one of the first kpop fics i wrote after i got into kpop last year (2019), so this is quite close to my heart :]

Park Jimin always thought he’d fall in love with someone who was already in love with a part of him before he could reciprocate. As a member of the world’s reigning biggest boyband, it was difficult to think otherwise — especially if every corner of the world has heard of the rising seven South Korean lads in some form or another.

A concert — his group’s — would be the most ideal and plausible setting for him to fall. Though it may be true that its probability was slightly more foreseeable, it was still slim. But, nevertheless, he dared to dwell in it whenever the circumstances allowed.

His aspirations remained unexplored to its greatest potential, thus disappointments were nonexistent. Yet, it didn’t rule out the astonishment that coursed through his veins when his fate finally aligned with his destiny.

You blended amongst the crowd of thousands ARMYs. You weren’t donned with any merchandise, but you managed to look typical. Your eyes glistened with amazement and wonder, but there was a strong sense of innocence and unfamiliarity within them.

He couldn’t deduce the circumstance that led to your newly-entwined paths. He was never interested on how they crossed, but rather on the reason’s capability to further interweave your lives. He knew his time-constricted schedule, amongst anything else, wouldn’t allow him to chase, so he was reduced to relying solely on fate.

Perhaps, in another time and place, it would bestow another chance.

“What can the song title possibly be?” If the universe lived in first words, Jimin would want those etched in his skin. Under the starless sky, surrounded by the soft murmur of the city, his fate and destiny coincided once more. He didn’t anticipate the swiftness of its response, especially since it has only been a few hours since the first, but he was beyond ecstatic nonetheless.

He tried his hardest not to dwell upon the significant improvement in your distance apart, but even his reflection knew he was too far gone. You have taken over his senses even without knowing it. His whole being was craving you — and he didn’t even know your name. Yet.

You were murmuring under your breath, which fell deaf on his ears as he chose to focus on the sound of your voice. It was as sweet and as smooth as honey, yet also as firm and unyielding as steel. He could swear he would never get tired of it, like a melody dear to his heart.

Even your humming sounded beautiful — and, no, he wasn’t only thinking so because you were humming a song he knew like the back of his hand. Though, the fact that the song just happened to be his solo made his heart soar higher than the clouds.

From what he could gather from your whispered rambling, you had been trying to find the song — his song — that had been stuck in your head ever since you heard it in the concert. Your friend, the only reason you attended in the first place, had not been helpful at all; mockingly opting to let you figure out the title yourself. You couldn’t figure out what their deal was, but the sly smirk in their face told you that they were planning on sinking you into their fandom.

Jimin had to suppress his laughter. All this time, he was preparing himself for the connection that he would inevitably make with one of his fans, but never considered the possibility that one of them would play a much different role in his life. They were definitely something else — a fact that they never failed to prove time and time again — and he wouldn’t want them any other way.

It was merely loud enough for you to hear, but, for the very first time, he sang for you.

Your compliment came in one word — it was common in his idol life, but, unbeknownst to you, you transformed it to something special. Beautiful.

You didn’t recognize him; at least, you didn’t give any indication that you remembered him. Your conversation flowed naturally, switching from one topic to another so easily. You conversed without the pressure of needing to know each other beyond your names nor how you found solace within each other under the moonlight. With you, he was just Jimin — without expectations.

You were his craving — one that he could never satisfy.

Your unplanned rendezvous were repeated throughout the passing time. They remained to happen by fate, as if they were destined so. Eventually, both of you took the hint, not willing to defy what the universe willed over and over.

It was rather impulsive, albeit not without prior internal debate, but, for the second time, he sang for you. A song, a speech, and a question later, your relationship became an official secret you two had the pleasure to keep.

The rarity of your rendezvous didn’t stall any improvement; if anything, it formulated an event both parties always looked forward to. You two did your best to lessen the hindrance of distance, and, for the most part, your respective efforts worked. Whenever the hallow feeling became overbearing for either of you, one would often go out of their way to sedate their yearning for one another.

Park Jimin had lived through his favorite concerts. Though, truth be told, every night was unforgettable by its own right. Each city was special in some way, especially since he was making memories with his hyungs and dongsaengs while doing something they all love. It was just an added bonus that they get to entertain millions of the most passionate people in the world while doing so, really.

He never thought something so precious would blossom into something more. For the most part, he had been content with his lifestyle — no matter how constricting it might be at times. After you unceremoniously entered his life, however, you unconsciously did something beyond painting his life a tad brighter; you had unknowingly changed the meaning of “indelible” for him as well.

You were his penicillin — one that he never thought would be ineffective someday.

The last time he sang for you, he didn’t even realize that you were there.

There had been a total of seven concerts held in the city of your hometown. Months prior to the eighth concert, your little world — your perfect illusion — ceased to exist. It might have been mutual, but not in the most usual sense of the word.

Yet, somehow, Jimin still found himself scanning the crowd. Instantly, his eyes landed on the spot you had always occupied ever since the night you first watched him and his brothers live.

In a crowd of thousands, you still stood out like the night you caught his heart.

Butterflies used to spread happiness throughout his entire body; but, with each flatter of their wings, throbbing affliction traveled straight to his chest instead.

“And I still—”

Park Jimin still loved you; but, when he accidentally caught your eye, he just couldn’t bring himself to finish his line to let you know.

—want you.

#park jimin x reader #jimin x reader #bts x reader #park jimiin imagines #jimin imagines #bts imagines #park jimin scenarios #jimin scenarios #bts scenarios #park jimin oneshots #jimin oneshots #bts oneshots #idol!au #park jimin #jimin #bts #bangtan sonyeondan

[hydrangeasimagination]

Crossover Crush Competition

Wherein which our dear characters meet their rival for your affections.

The twist is that they're from somewhere else.

Another universe!

I've been writing a lot of BNHA but we need some more love for the two other fandoms I write for!

But let's get into the contestants.... Shall we?

Thoughts in quotes are italicized.

In Kusuo’s case, words spoken through telepathy are bolded and italicized and are in quotes. 

~ Dari

Round 1

Saiki Kusuo VS. Manuda Kaede (Saiki K & Kakegurui)

"It seems this is a running theme."

The thought was drier as the would-be tone used. Saiki's eyes didn't leave the bouncing form in the distance, the blur of two figures coming closer and becoming more clear with every step.

He'd wait though.

Always for you.

With that sweet as sugar smile he silently admired, you practically sang, "Kusuo!!"

His gaze drifted to the tall boy beside you. Just barely able to keep his expression neutral when he felt the onslaught of unpleasant thoughts from his head.

"So, this is the one that Jabami mentioned... I don't quite see what the fuss is."

Saiki nearly cringed, catching himself before he'd rolled his eyes.

It seems brooding megane were the type you attracted.

"What a pain."

"Kusuo, this is my friend from school," You gestured "Manyuda - senpai, this is Kusuo! My childhood friend."

Violet clashed with onyx, gazes hardening once they've crossed.

The psychic nearly considered taking off his own lenses, but with you there, he couldn't risk it.

No matter.

"Nice to meet you." The white haired male stiffly greeted. "I will be joining you both on this study session."

Kusuo just nodded.

Slowly, dark eyes flickered to give him a once over whilst the dialogue in his head played out. "There's nothing noteworthy of this Saiki Kusuo, seemed I was concerned for nothing. I don't understand why there's nothing but pictures of him in that notebook."

A fury blazed under his skin once those thoughts reached him, it'd apparently started showed in his face as he sees Manyuda narrow his eyes in return. But he didn't let him get the satisfaction for losing his temper for no good reason. Especially not in front of you.

"Ku?" The chime of your voice was filled with concern, making butterflies come alive in his stomach to overtake the anger.

"Let's go, my mom probably set out snacks."

Pointedly, he made eye contact with Manyuda and reached to take your hand.

A smug smile threatened to pull at his lips as he saw his shoulders tense.

"... Perhaps he is more of a threat than I thought."

Oh, he had no idea.

Round 2

Teruhashi Kokomi VS. Bakugo Katsuki (Saiki K & BNHA)

Teruhashi had a problem with Bakugo Katsuki.

He was a brute would be her first gripe.

Crude, rude, mouthy - not to mention cocky, self-righteous, and just straight up arrogant. It'd made him completely immune to her charms, even though he'd never hope to match up to her beauty.

Though she begrudgingly admitted he is good looking, though not enough to act how he does.

But that wasn't the root cause of the issue.

He was smart.

So much so that he could tell that she was putting up a front the entire time. It was frustrating how observant he was as it'd made him call her out even at risk of his own reputation.

Though it's clear he didn't care what people thought about him anyway so he has nothing to lose. He looked through her like it was the easiest thing he'd ever done.

But that wasn't the problem either.

Even though he drove her nuts with his indifference to her, his annoyance at her very presence.

How he'd branded her a “fake” and an “extra” boiled her blood.

She was tough - as thick skin was something she had to have as the pretty and perfect girl.

Bakugo Katsuki is a menace.

A handsome, smart, talented, menace that knew what he wanted.

They'd be a powerful pair if it weren't for one factor...

Her problem was him being around you.

Her crush.

You were lovely! So charming and soft, there's no pressure to be perfect around you because of that sugary aura and lovingly accepting nature. That tendency to fire back and match a flame makes you terribly alluring...

Much to her dismay, she wasn't the only one that thought so.

She sees how he looks at you.

How different he treats you to the rabble...

It makes her skin crawl.

"Hello, Teruhashi - san!" Chirpy and upbeat, bright eyes and all, the requisite greeting she'd grown endeared to.

"... Faker." Bakugo hissed, eyes suspiciously trained on her smile.

He stood unnecessarily close to you, hands stuffed into the pockets of his sagging pants. She could tell he was itching to hold your hand, not unlike her.

The two of them were prideful though.

Unwilling to back down.

"Shall we go? That sweets shop isn't going to be open forever." Kokomi beamed at you nonetheless, radiance pouring from her.

There was no stares of envy directed at them, likely having been scared off by the explosive blond. Knowing of his dislike for her helped in that case too.

"Sounds good." You hummed, unaware of the tension between your friends.

Carmine met sapphire.

Bolts of electricity shot between them, competitive and fiery.

It pained her to admit that he was a worthy rival.

But there can only be one victor.

Round 3

Saotome Mary VS. Uraraka Ochako (Kakegurui & BNHA)

Carefully setting teeth, careful not to grind. Withholding from speaking ruinous words lest favor is tipped differently. Peals of jealously curled deep in her gut, only barely offset by the feelings of affection blanketing her in warmth.

Uraraka was simply too cute.

Too nice.

There's no way she could be this naive, right?

Mary teetered on that fine edge, unable to tell the motives of her apparently oblivious rival in romance.

She'd barely able to keep herself composed when it came to matters of the heart. Her quirk went haywire, turning so red that she'd match the blazer Mary donned.

Sutbly nonexistent in Uraraka's dictionary, plain and simple,

But her suspicion remained, ever looming and growing.

Then there was you.

Genuinely oblivious, charismatic, kind, and so endearingly stupid... No wonder the both of them vyed for your attention so readily.

Though it seemed to be unknown to Ochako that Mary was even competition.

Her thoughts buzzed, "Or...."

Biting the inside of her cheeks, golden gaze narrowing into pinpricks.

A wash of irritation.

"She didn't think I was noteworthy enough to be considered."

Not until today.

Today would be the day.

"Uraraka Ochako."

The brunette looked startled, standing betwixt her friends. Of whom were surprised to see Saotome standing before them, her head held high with a burning fire in her gaze.

Uraraka suddenly felt uneasy, judging by her look.

Both of them knew of each other, yes, but only because of associating with you.

"C - can I help you, Saotome - san?" She squeaked out, confused.

Plantings her hands on her hips, the girl in question straightened her back and stared right at her.

Between parted pink lips, dropped a bomb, "This is a declaration of war."

"E - eh? Saotome - sa -"

"You know exactly what I'm talking about, not even you can be that much of an airhead." Mary scoffed gently, reaching her hand up and sweeping her pigtail back.

Her friends were unable to speak, unable to believe that this was in fact happening.

"For..."

The blond fixed her rival with a gaze, a little vindicated to watch her flinch back at the syllables of your given name. Nothing but a determination lined her eyes and she was going to make good on the promise she made.

"The rules are there will be no sabotage," She plainly stated "and we will be happy no matter which one of us wins out."

Uraraka still stood, gaping and red in the face.

Mary didn't stay for her answer, turning on her heels and knowing exactly where to find you.

This was her day after all.

She didn't turn her head, just kept walking.

Distinctly, she wondered if she'd been mistaken.

Ochako's shout made her pause mid-step, made her wait to make sure it was her rival that spoke...

After this night, there will be no mercy.

"... Let's do our best!!"

"Let's go to war."

#bnha #bnha x reader #bnha imagines #boku no hero academia #mha x reader #mha imagines #mha #my hero academia #saiki k imagines #saiki k #the disaster of psi kusuo saiki #saiki kusuo no ψ nan #kakegurui imagines #kakegurui #saiki kusuo #saiki kusuo x reader #manyuda kaede #manyuda kaede x reader #Teruhashi Kokomi #teruhashi kokomi x reader #bakugo katsuki #bakugo katsuki x reader #saotome mary #saotome mary x reader #uraraka ochako #uraraka ochako x reader #CrossOver #gender neutral reader #dari writes

[iwrestlenow]

THE EMERALD: I’m Living In A Trance

TITLE: I’m Living In A Trance (part of THE EMERALD)

FANDOM: Sanders Sides

SUMMARY: In the safety of the Loom of Memory, Logan and Roman finally share an intimate moment.

Missing scene from Chapter 12 of Many More To Die.

SHIPS: Logince (Logan/Roman)

WARNINGS: makeouts, heavy petting (bit extreme but what the hey better safe than sorry?), sensory overload, and I suppose spoilers for MANY MORE TO DIE if you haven’t read that yet.

NOTES: So, this his how this fic happened...

Me: FEELSY LOGINCE SMUT! *writes teh smut*

Logan: Human contact is new to me.

Me: ...Logince...smut?...

Logan: *S I G H* Human contact is new to me, and I've been imprisoned for the last ten years.

Me: ...FINEEEEEEE.

So enjoy some canoodling and feels. :P Also, naming this series The Emerald because I named the original story for a lyric from the Thin Lizzy song "Emerald." XD

Located on AO3 here.

“...time moves differently here.”

Roman stared up at Logan, feeling every breath against his face like a caress—as real as the pain that tried to tear his mind to shreds, as real as the nagging hole he'd had in his chest for the last ten years, one shaped like Logan's face.

One shaped like Logan's mouth pressed too quickly to his, too quickly pressed to his cheek, innocent and warm, the childlike innocence of that first realization that Roman loved him, loved loved love—

Logan's mouth settled on Roman's, and the wellspring of tenderness washing through him morphed swiftly to burning, desperate, hungry need.

The noise Roman made, high and whining, was borderline embarrassing as he buried his fingers in Logan's thick black hair, glossy soft and glorious to touch. It made Logan groan into his mouth as he kissed Roman, pressed close, melted into him with that heavenly sound Roman would kill to hear over and over again.

Sitting up abruptly and forcing Logan back on his knees, Roman broke the kiss and tugged at Logan's tunic until he cooperated and pulled it over his head. Here, in this dream space, he was unchanged from the real world: underweight and pale, but with lean muscle stretched over limbs that were long for his size.

Captivated, Roman reached out to touch, to smooth his hands over those lean shoulders. His skin was surprisingly warm, and Logan shivered, eyes drifting closed under the onslaught of sensation.

“I've never...”

The words out of Logan's mouth startled Roman from his silent contemplation of Logan's painful, perfect beauty. Blinking, it took him a moment to realize what Logan meant—to be reminded that, beyond intimacy itself, Logan's experience with basic physical touch alone was almost nonexistent.

“I know.” he soothed, smoothing his hands back up the sides of Logan's neck to cradle his face. “If it's too much, tell me to stop and I will.”

Logan nodded, eyes still shut for a moment. When they opened, it was slow, almost sleepy—and oh, that did things to Roman.

“More.”

Roman claimed his mouth more slowly this time, a press of lips, and then another before he ran his tongue along the seam of Logan's mouth. His jaw went slack, allowing Roman to lick greedily into his mouth. He kept it slow, careful, gentle...

Then Logan dragged his teeth over Roman's lower lip as they parted, and Roman went just a little bit crazy as he switched their positions, pinning Logan on his back beneath the weight of Roman's body.

“Okay?” he asked, barely managing to stop himself from just descending on Logan like a starving man.

“No—yes--I'm not...I need...”

Roman relaxed, pressing Logan further into the bed rather than pulling away. Like when they were children and Logan was overwhelmed by just a hug or holding hands, he kept him there and held on, steady and sure, waiting.

Logan didn't bolt or squirm, just reached for Roman, fumbling and fidgeting until he wormed a hand under Roman's shirt to splay against his back with a sigh that was either relief or satisfaction. Maybe it was both.

Shifting up a little, Roman's weight came up as he tugged his tunic off over his head. The moment he was free of it, Logan's hands were on him, running over shoulders and arms, chest and stomach. It was perfectly chaste, just touching, but it took all Roman's strength to remain still underneath those sweet and curious caresses.

“You're so beautiful.” Logan breathed. Roman watched his face, enraptured, as he stared at one hand mapping the curve of Roman's clavicle with fingertips alone. “Handsome and strong and...and so kind, so clever, so brave a prince, a king--”

“A king you made of me, my Starlight.” Roman replied, leaning his forehead into Logan's. “I was so afraid to rule before I met you, and when I forgot...when I forgot what you made me want, I was afraid again. Now it's all I want.”

“To rule?” Logan asked, sliding his hands up to frame Roman's face. The sheer bliss of it, being able to touch Logan, to touch him and be touched like this overwhelmed him as he shut his eyes and twisted to press his lips to one of Logan's palms.

“To begin.” he whispered against Logan's skin, making a vow of it. “To start turning the wheels of progress that will see your people free.”

Something dark flickered across Logan's features then, making him shift a little under Roman, brow furrowing. A moth to his flame, Roman leaned in to press his lips there, to smooth that ridge of worry away.

“You know that's not why I love you. It's never been why I love you...you know I would never--”

“I know you were never using me, Starlight.” Roman laughed softly, nose brushing along Logan's hairline. He shivered again, making Roman flat out grin. “That requires a level of subterfuge I don't think you're capable of.”

Logan huffed, even as Roman pressed his lips to his temple and Logan turned his head to give him more room. “If you are saying I am incapable of deceit or falsehood, you are gravely mistaken.”

“Oh, I have no doubt you can lie, and lie well.” Roman murmured, running a hand down Logan's bare side to make him shiver again. This time, it came with a soft, breathy sound that made his gut clench with desire.

“You simply cannot lie to me.”

“Falsehood.” Logan protested, arching a little as Roman kissed his throat, then trailed a gentle path of kisses slowly down the middle of his chest.

“Oh? Then you're lying about how good this feels?” Roman asked innocently before he tasted Logan's skin with a broad sweep of his tongue.

Instead of answering, Logan moaned then, low and broken, and the sound shot straight to Roman's cock. Drunk on the sound, on the taste of Logan, Roman pressed an openmouthed kiss to his sternum, tongue sweeping greedily over skin for more.

“Too much too much too much...”

Logan's voice was breathless, keening, but he didn't push Roman away. His hands moved restlessly over his shoulders, into his hair, clinging and clutching and borderline frenetic.

Roman slid up to settle his weight over Logan again. Those roaming, anxious hands found his shoulders, slid over his back, traced his ribcage. Features twisted with something unpleasant that made Roman's chest ache slowly relaxed until sleepy eyes blinked up at him again.

“I've got you, Starlight.” he soothed, reaching up to run his fingers through Logan's hair. “Breathe...just breathe, I've got you.”

Logan nodded, then just wrapped arms around Roman and dragged him down until he was fully covered by Roman's body, Roman's head tucked against the curve of Logan's neck so Roman's breath was puffing against his skin.

“Touching...touching helps.” Logan sighed. “Not so much...if I can touch you back.”

“I am yours to do with what you will, my love.” Roman assured him with a smile against his skin, sliding a hand between them to rest on Logan's chest, just over his heart. “Whether that be everything or nothing.”

Logan fell silent at that, save for clearing his throat. Several times.

“I do...want you.” Logan finally confessed. “I've...thought about it a lot. Over the years—before I remembered who you were.”

“The Green Man? Patton mentioned that.”

“Yes...the Green Man.”

“I've dreamed of you, too, Starlight, and I want you just as much. We'll go slow, figure it out. As you said, we have time here, right?”

Logan nodded, but the silence that followed felt heavy, pregnant with words unsaid—something Logan wasn't telling him.

Roman wanted to ask, to coax it out of him...but he felt good here, safe and warm and cherished.

The world was slipping away. Logan's arms, his skin, his scent were all sliding through his fingers.

They were right, Roman: my people can't be trusted. We're too easily corrupted, and I am no different. He will not take you away from me again.

It was the last thing Roman heard Logan say before he was shoved into oblivion.

#logince #fic #necromancer au #sanders sides #logan sanders #roman sanders #fic series: the emerald #missing scenes #my name is liz and i swear to god i will fic again #makeout fic #heavy petting #this is all the artist's fault i'm just the hapless writer that stumbled across it

[crossroadsfossil]

aaaaaa on the topic of your quirk-related illnesses post: do you have any headcanons about disability in bnha’s setting (quirk-related or otherwise)? and i guess by extension: should quirklessness be classified as a disability?

Fuck it- world building prompts. Send a fandom and a prompt. ILLNESS CONTINUATION

So, before we get into BNHA and Disability, I will note that I have next to no knowledge of how disability is view/treated legally or socially in Japan, which is the view we’re given. All I know is what I’ve gleaned from pop culture and one pair of youtubers (Simon and Martina). I’m making an assumption that Japan and the USA have similar ideas regarding disability, and those ‘ideas’ are, at best, lacking in empathy and sympathy and mostly lip service. 

Additionally, I will be using the term ‘disabled’ as it’s laid out by the ADA, as that’s what I’m most familiar with. Disability is defined as “a person who has a physical or mental impairment that substantially limits one or more major life activity.”

NOW, as for BNHA universe- 

I think having a disability in this universe would be like being disabled in reality. It would suck. If you’re very lucky, you have a support network that can assist you. If you’re moderately lucky, the government pays lip service to assist you. In all cases, I’m pretty convinced that society sees the disabled as either something they did to themselves, or an inconvenience or something to be pitied at best and hated at worst. 

I think the potential in the BNHA universe to become partially or completely disabled is much, much higher. There’s statistically a higher chance of being disabled through violent means- Hero or villain inflicted injuries. I think quirk lashback would increase the likelihood of becoming disabled.  

Fuck, we’ve seen how the BNHA universe treats the disabled, and it’s not good. One of the characters with the largest presence who is also disabled is Jin Bubaigawara and, well. He was killed. He fell into villainy. He had no. Goddamn. Support. And that is common in the real world so I doubt it’s any less common in this one. 

There are others who are visually disabled. There’s Ectoplasm, who’s missing his legs. There’s Ingenium, who’s paralyzed. There’s FUCKING ALL MIGHT. I don’t know how well Etoplasm and Ingenium are treated. I don’t know how All Might is treated, but from what I remember of the whole post-skinny might reveal, it’s not great either. 

All Might does what a lot of people with disabilities do, myself included. He hides it. Clearly, there is a stigma attached to being crippled. There is a stigma to being less than 100%. There is a Stigma for not being ‘plus ultra’ enough. 

I wish I had some fun headcanons for disabilities in the BNHA universe. I wish I could whip up some delightful headcanons about how it’s better than it is in the real world, how there are funny, quirky things like I could with the illness post and having the Pepper Up Cough. I wish my headcanons about this could be fun and more headcanons and less applying what I know and have experienced to this universe. I wish I could. But I can’t. 

I think being disabled in BNHA is just as bad, if not worse than in the real world. We’ve seen the cruelty related to quirks. We’ve seen the apathy of the general public. We’ve seen a lot of that society and not a lot of it is good. 

Here is my headcanon: I think if you are perceived as being less than healthy, you are seen as weak. A victim at best and a deserving villain at worst. I think the support for disabled people is nonexistent, no matter how minor or severe the disability. I think it’s the same vultures, different liver kind of situation with BNHA as it is with RL. 

I think there are more people with disabilities than there are in RL. I think more people hide having a disability too. I think getting a doctor to diagnose a disability would be harder than it is in RL, and gods knows that’s hard enough. I think discrimination based on disability would be more prevalent. 

I think there were be types of quirks that would almost guarantee a future disability. I think it’s brought up in a lot of fic discussing Present Mic and Bakugou and Jirou- their deafness or the deafness of those around them. I think it’d affect characters like Midnight- who would probably end up with a chronic lung issue unless her body is adapted to breathing it in all the time. I think Aizawa is going to have eye issues eventually, probably even going blind at some point. I think Nedzu, being a rat in a human world, would be considered disabled simply because the world is not built for him. I think Cementoss would have mobility issues as he ages. Fatgum and Momo probably will have issues regarding how fast they burn fat/nutrients. It’ll probably manifest in their hearts.

I think a lot of people end up with a disability brought on by their quirk. The human body is an amazing thing, but it has limits and I don’t think those limits play well with time- or another way to say this, I think people are more likely to burn out faster than we are. I think it’s going to be more like an animalistic ‘live hard, die young’ sort of thing. 

I also think it’ll be entirely glossed over by the populace at large. People are very good at ignoring things, and a growing number of disabilities would probably fall under ‘things to absolutely ignore’. 

I could ramble more, but I want to get to the next part of your question:  

Should quirklessness be classified as a disability

I read that and, hoo boy, it triggered an immediate bout of snarling until I could analyze why it pissed me off. 

Let’s return to the definition I gave at the beginning of my answer. A disability is anything that interferes with a person’s ability to do one major activity. In canon, what do we know of being without a quirk? 

It’s said that 20% of the world is without a quirk. Is this accurate? Is this reflective of each new generation? We’re not given information on this. I’ve read plenty of fic that have explored the validity of these given statements, pointing out that they don’t seem to agree with what we’re shown in canon. I’ve read fic where it’s stating this is gross oversimplification, or a skewing of the actual data, which I’m a bit of a fan of being numbers like that are never accurate. One in five people have no quirk? Really? Then why was there no other quirkless kids in Izuku’s school? Does affluence play a factor in this? We’re just... not given a lot of detail, and the details we are given are not pretty. 

The details are this: being quirkless has hindered Izuku Midoriya socially, and, if we want to extrapolate from there, it has probably hindered him educationally and professionally as well. Melissa Sheild has been hindered by being quirkless. Not to the same extent as Izuku, but she is, according to the wiki, ‘ she used to be seen with pity for being Quirkless’. To me, this sounds like people have... hm. how to say... ‘tried to protect her’ for her ‘weakness’. 

Basically, looking at these two individuals, it sounds like society takes away their agency, and if that doesn’t ‘hinder one major aspect of an individuals life’ then I don’t know what does. 

ALso, look at those who BECAME quirkless. Does it hinder them? Are Mirio and Ragdoll hindered? Yes. 

So, following the rules I set out, yes, being quirkless does count as a disability. Legally, would it count here? I don’t know. If someone fought for it, then I can see some countries classifying it as such. It’s certainly treated as a disability in canon. There is a stigma to being quirkless. 

Do I personally want being quirkless to be a disability? 

No. But I am hella biased because I AM disabled. I see Melissa out there living and doing things I would love to do. That I would love to do. Notice I didn’t include Izuku. That’s because I see him having some comorbidities, which, kind of annihilates my knee-jerk reaction, doesn’t it? If he wasn’t quirkless, he probably wouldn’t have the comorbidities. Since he does and they also impair his functioning, then... I think it can be logic’d that he does have a disability. Multple, perhaps. 

Again, my logic may not be super solid there, but... According to the rules set out via ADA and medical professionals, yes. In that new society, it would be a disability. 

I hate it, but in that universe, the baseline for ‘100% normal’ has shifted, just as it’s shifted over the past hundred, three hundred, thousand, six thousand years. That line is always shifting as humanity grows and changes. Hopefully, that baseline begins to include empathy and sympathy and compassion into it. 

#BNHA Worldbuilding Ask #BNHA #Worldbuilding asks #tldr: ANGRY AMY RANTING #chidorinnnnn #Mailbox #I have no idea where I was going with this #not funny headcanons #or funny in a horrifying way #just horrifying and depressed realization i think

[vannahfanfics]

All the World’s Sadness

Category: Hurt and Comfort

Fandom: Atlantis- The Lost Empire

Characters: Kida, Milo

Hi, guys! Another piece I worked on for applying to the Shepherd’s Journal Zine that I thought I’d share :) One more to go and I’ll have enough for the application TT.TT 

Kida hated the throne room. Kida was the queen of Atlantis; she ought to take honor in the throne that symbolized her royal blood and spiritual purity. The throne room was the culmination of generations of rulers, principles, laws, religion, and dignity; it wasn’t pompous or pretentious, but instead embodied the deep connection to the natural and spiritual worlds vital to the Atlantean culture. 

Behind the crescent-shaped, blanket-draped, wooden throne sat a massive stone depiction of an Atlantean soldier. The head had been detached from the body, representing not only the self-sacrifice of defenders of their homeland and the dangers of a violent, militaristic state. Beyond the throne sprawled a still, clear pond smothered in floating lilies and inlaid with the stepping stones that patterned a swirling spiritual symbol. Buried underground lay the cavern where her ancestors had filled Kida to the brim with the power to face the oncoming catastrophe of the erupting volcano. However, now it again remained hidden, contained beneath that quiet little pond. Vegetation sprouted around the room’s edges, filling the air with a freshness, and moss coated the ornate Greek-style columns supporting the roof of the building. 

Indeed, by all rights, it was a magnificent and regal throne room… But Kida still hated it, at least on that day- the anniversary of her dear father’s death.  

Kida squirmed uncomfortable against the blankets; their once soft, embracing cloth now felt like coarse sandpaper against her bare back, making the skin burn and itch. She tried to keep her twitching writhes to a minimum, not wishing to arouse her husband’s suspicions. Milo sat casually in the newly-constructed twin to the ancient throne, attending to the last remaining bit of subjects who’d come to counsel with the pair of royals. 

Kida’s attention had been nonexistent since she had awoken that morning; everyone noticed her lapse in clear guidance and focus, especially Milo. He’d naturally assumed the more dominant role that day, falling seamlessly into the caring and patient benefactor of the common people. One could almost call it an insult, the way he nonchalantly perched on the edge of the throne, elbows resting on his knees in a relaxed posture. Yet, no one would question him for the rapt attention he afforded each and every person, and the understanding smiles that graced his boyish bespectacled face. Despite everything, a small smile appeared on Kida’s lips as she observed him speaking calmly with a disgruntled fisherman who was commissioning for repairs to the docks. 

“Your request sounds very reasonable,” Milo announced as he straightened up and rolled his shoulders. “We’ll get right on that. I want a list of contractors drawn up sometime tomorrow, at the earliest available opportunity,” he noted to the royal scribe, who took a record of all the day’s decisions for the appropriate administrative staff to handle later. The fisherman jumped forward to shake Milo’s hand ecstatically, and the brunette just grinned and returned the Atlantean’s zeal with equal fervor. It was magical, how effortlessly Milo had earned the trust and respect of her people. Well, thinking back, perhaps it really wasn’t magical at all. 

“Unnnnnnngh!” Milo exclaimed as soon as the fisherman, the last caller of the day, exited the spacious room. The man stretched his arms above his head, prompting a series of pops from his stiff joints. “Whew! What a day,” he sighed and rubbed at the back of his neck. Kida groaned, the ache in her bones and burning skin growing unbearable, and Milo side-eyed her worriedly. “Kida? Are you all right?” The queen refrained from answering in favor of glancing around the room. The staff had slipped into the royal compound’s bowels, leaving the husband and wife to do as they pleased. Now that her royal obligations had reached their limit, Kida eagerly jumped off from the throne, stumbling over her feet in the process and making her ankle bracelets clang together. 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa! What’s all this?” Milo cried as she angrily ripped the clinging blankets from her person. As he hopped up to grab her lightly by the upper arms, she immediately melted into his lean frame, pouting dourly. Apparently, Milo hadn’t realized what day it was; nonetheless, he enveloped her in a crushing embrace, squishing her body against his. As Kida nuzzled her face into the crook of his neck, Milo pressed his cheek tightly against the side of her head. He then patiently waited for her to voice her melancholy. 

“I don’t want to be in here,” she huffed bluntly. She felt Milo’s facial muscles contract as his eyebrows shot up to the roots of his hair. She said that, but now Kida didn’t want to move; comfort and warmth poured off Milo’s form, and she basked in them readily. She drank in his scent like parchment and rain and the faint hint of earth, feeling calm slowly ooze into her being. After a few more minutes, with Milo waiting ever-so-tolerantly, she murmured, “This is the place my father perished. It sickens me.” 

Silence descended. Kida’s face contorted slightly in confusion at the lack of Milo’s response, but then she felt the uncomfortable shift of his body. He coughed awkwardly and shifted his shoulders as he played with the dark blue cloth loosely wrapped over his thin frame. 

“I, er… Yeah, that’ll do it,” Milo chuckled in discombobulation. Despite herself, a teensy smile curled up the ends of Kida’s lips. Her frazzled husband could be so adorable sometimes. Milo coughed once more as he struggled to compose himself and offer proper consolation. “I, er… Darn it, Milo, you should be ashamed of yourself… O-oh, uh, right, you’re sad, um, and I’m supposed to make you feel better, ummm… I love you?” Kida snorted in laughter and leaned up to look him in the face. His golden-brown eyebrows were tightly knit together above the wireframes of his glasses. Milo stared at her, resembling a puppy puzzled by its owner’s action. Perhaps it wasn’t the most eloquent comfort, but Kida felt reassured nonetheless. She put a hand on Milo’s cheek and kissed the corner of his mouth. 

“I love you too, Milo. I feel better.” 

“Really?” he blurted, eyes blown wide. Kida chuckled in amusement, her other hand sliding down the length of his arm to link their hands and entwine their fingers. Milo gave her that lopsided smile that sent warm bubbles coursing through her body anytime she was graced with its appearance. Without saying another word, Milo wrapped his free arm around her to pull her in for another soft embrace, peppering kisses into her long, moon-white hair. “I wish he were here,” he admitted against her scalp. “He should’ve been allowed to see what a splendid queen you are…” Kida exhaled deeply and melted languidly against his frame, tracing his star-patterned tattoo’s jagged lines.

“Mhmm… I wish he would have been able to see what a remarkable king you are,” she countered. She couldn’t see Milo’s face, but she could tell he was flushing from the intense spike of heat that rolled off his body in a sudden wave. He began stuttering nervous refusals under his breath, so Kida continued, “You are a wonderful king! My people- our people- respect you immensely.” Her fingers walked a path over his shoulder and up his neck. When she reached his jaw, she flattened her palm against his cheek. She rolled her head over his shoulder to smirk at him, turning his face down to her as she did so. “I certainly could not hope to rule without such a kind and considerate man by my side.” 

“Well,” he considered suddenly, rolling his eyes up in pseudo-thoughtfulness. Kida snickered at his abrupt shift to a playful mood. In a second, he grinned widely and dropped down to press a sweet little kiss to the tip of her nose. “I certainly couldn’t hope to rule without such a strong, sophisticated woman by my side,” he contradicted coltishly. His tone was jesting, but seriousness swam in the sparkling pools of his eyes. Smiling lovingly, Kida stroked the contour of his jawline continuously as he gazed adoringly down into her sea-blue eyes. “At any rate, it’s a good thing he can see how well we’re doing, anyway.” It was Kida’s turn to be confused, and she quirked an eyebrow vexedly. Grinning, Milo jabbed his index finger towards the ceiling. 

Kida immediately understood. 

“Mhmm… Yes, you are right, Milo.” Above the barrier of the worn stone roof, her ancestors’ stone carvings orbited the mighty hidden city. Their mighty visages thrummed with the sparkling energy of life and spirit and magic; Kida knew her father’s soul coursed within those magical veins. She also knew that his wizened old eyes, with sight returned in his eternal afterlife, gazed upon her with all measures of fondness and pride. Kida’s eyes disintegrated the ceiling’s dark surface to envision his stone carving looking down upon her, and she smiled. “Yes, you’re right,” she repeated softly and snuggled into her husband’s body. “I know he can see how beautiful our amazing city has continued to become.” 

Sadly, her father was gone, and nothing could ever completely fill the void left behind in Kida’s heart. Still, all was not lost- she had a kingdom that uplifted her, and a loving husband who thought her the world. With so much love and support holding her up, Kida could face all the world’s sadness without question.

Enjoy this oneshot? Feel free to peruse my Table of Contents!

#milo x kida #kida x milo #atlantis #atlantis the lost empire #atlantis: the lost empire

[writteninsunshine]

My Enemies Belittle Me - Xemnas-Centric - SFW

Title: My Enemies Belittle Me

Author: Reno

Fandom: Kingdom Hearts

Setting: The World That Never Was, KHII

Pairing: None

Characters: Xemnas, King Mickey, Ansem The Wise, Sora, Kairi, Riku, Naminé, Xehanort

Genre: Angst/Spiritual

Rating: T

Chapters: 1/1

Word Count: 778

Type Of Work: One-Shot

Status: Complete

Warnings: Existentialism, Headcanon Heavy, Xemnas-Centric

Disclaimer: I don’t own anything.

Summary: Xemnas visits his thoughts for one final time as the race against him is coming to a close.

AN: Hey guys, it’s me again! If anyone wants my writing discord, please DM me. I also have a writing tumblr!

Anyway, I really like this fic, I hope you guys, too. It can be very triggering if your mental health is not great, I think, so please read with caution.

Kingdom Hearts Fanfic Masterlist

My Enemies Belittle Me

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

There was something to be said for the voracious appetite of the Keyblade.

It gathered hearts like nothing he’d ever seen before, and the sheer number of them that Sora was drumming up for him only made a faint smile come to his lips. Watching his Kingdom Hearts coming into being, knowing what it meant for him, well… He would say he was elated if he could feel anything at all.

Not even annoyance crept into his life. There was no question that every last member of his pitiful Organization had their own agenda. Perhaps the other didn’t know it, but he was well aware of Saïx’s true intentions. It was one thing to have a suspicion, but knowing that he was actively being betrayed probably should have elicited more of a reaction from him.

Instead, he felt nothing. Not even a numbness, but a profound emptiness. Part of him recognized that this was likely what death felt like. Or, perhaps, he was death. That was what many considered nonexistence, and by all rules and logic, he didn’t exist. Which meant that nonexistence wasn’t even radio static. It was silence, it was emptiness, it was torturous.

When Xehanort had sought out this end to his emotional upheaval, he had intended to make his life easier. Erasing the emotions would make it simpler to deal with the everyday things that haunted him. 

Or, at least, that was what he had thought. 

Unfortunately, Xemnas had found that completely removing all emotion probably wasn’t worth it. He wanted to have the good emotions back. Why did life deem that an unnatural occurrence? It would have been so much better, so palatable, to be able to just switch off the negativity. The constant intrusive thoughts had driven him to nothingness, and now he operated on the fringe edge of light and darkness.

This was not what he had wanted, and he couldn’t even express his distress. What a mess he had gotten himself into. It wasn’t like he was truly prepared for what true emptiness would feel like. Sometimes, science was an art, and he had never been very artistic. In fact, he had always leaned more into the scientific, to facts, to learning… To exploring the doors that nobody wanted to even unlock.

Perhaps that had been where he had messed up this time.

Would death set him free? He honestly didn’t know. It was an interesting prospect to dissect in theory, but watching his fellow Nobodies dispatched so easily by Sora and his keyblade was growing worrisome. Perhaps he didn’t wish to continue living with nothing inside him, but was it truly so simple? Could the endless nothingness that waited be any different from the empty void he was already a part of?

Sora would bring him an end, one way or another. Be it by his collecting of hearts or his own hands, Xemnas would have to find it within himself to feel solace in the fact that his fate was being written as he sat in silence.

Riku and Kairi were something he hadn’t truly expected, however. Sure, he knew they were loose in his castle, of course, he did, but their reuniting with Sora was a thorn in his side. What twisted the knife was Ansem the Wise’s involvement. 

Xemnas must have been a big-ticket enemy for the King, Riku, Ansem, Kairi, Sora, and even Naminé and Axel to band together against him. Perhaps his ideals were too big, too much for them to understand. Most likely, they would never understand his motivations.

It wasn’t necessarily Xehanort that he desired to become by completing Kingdom Hearts. The end goal was to have the thirteen vessels he would need in order to complete his plans. Everyone listened to him, he was the first, they believed him, or so he thought. Why else would they listen when he told them to do things? It wasn’t like his missions served a purpose in the grand scheme of things. Sure, here and there they would guarantee he was making the correct decisions… But there was an underlying reason.

Tired, overworked people, Nobodies included, would listen. They would do whatever he wanted because they were told to, they were too beaten down not to. He encouraged them to waste themselves away so that his plans would not find any hiccups. Giving them little downtime meant less time to plan a coup. Or, so he’d wanted.

“I will be executed no matter what I do, so what does it matter?” He told the emptiness of the void, watching the hearts swarming to the sky above him. “It will be what it will be.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

AN: So, I wrote this as a Solo for my Xemnas rp account! I really like how it came out, I hope you guys like it, too!

Prompt: “I will be executed no matter what I will do, so what does it matter?”

#Kingdom Hearts Fanfic #Kingdom Hearts Fanfiction #Xemnas #Headcanon Heavy

[transterry]

I always forget about my AO3 profile lol I don’t remember the last time I updated it, but it was way out of date. Multiple hyperfixations out of date. But it’s updated now; the new title is “to reach the universe on wide, black wings,” a reference to 2.43 and Yuni. Even though the fandom’s been practically nonexistent since the anime ended, this series still rules my heart.

#ebw.op #not art

[clementineesotsm]

THE KING: ETERNAL MONARCH EP 5, My Appreciation and How It Made Me Feel

This going to be a hell long writings because this have been my most anticipated episode.

King is in Korea again finally. To pay his debt to Nari and take away tae eul. I enjoy the aesthetic shot and camera movements. 1 thing that was interesting, Nari write down “She’s Gone” on the board to inform people that Maximus was not here anymore. But seeing KSJ looking at it, it kind of tells him that Tae Eul is gone too. I love the analogy.

Because she is now in Corea with Gon and pretty much took Lady Noh and Jo Yeong by surprise. We got an explanation of the space between 1 and 0. I love how they called it that. And also i remember during Marvel’s end game im looking so much stuff of quantum mechanic, just curious about the quantum realm that helps them to go through time and space. That is why im excited to see it in this series too. They are using Quantum Tunelling theory same as end game. This space in between world has a rule and its different in every movie, what similar to end game was time flow differently. In TKEM 1 minute here equal to 1 hour outside. There were no wind, no air and no light here. Gon tells us that he was exploring this place for days and using euler’s number to count, which led many people to make their own theories and i love to read it ! I love this fandom, you smart geek 💕 and what makes me love Gon even more, here he shows that he was not greedy to found out more about the place, Since at least in the meantime he only need to know how to back and forth between Korea and Corea. Usually people who love science will have this greed to explore more, but Gon seems to know his priority and will explore later when needed. I love realistic boy 💕 They got critiziced badly for the bad cinematography, and im glad they listen to it and make it better and darker later in the series. But for me, this pinkish is fine.

The next scene was hilarious, we got to see JTE trying to figure out what is going on and try to prove many things in her way. Nicely executed. And i might say, that JTE is the main character of this episode, because we will saw her character development here and damn great acting by KGE. Im a fan now. Also i will always praised Jo Yeong. He is a very good actor. JY realized that JTE is this woman that Gon has been looking for his entire life.

Just wanted to appreciate more of the backsound used in this particular scene, Fantasia from Another Dimension. All praised for whoever make it and know exactly where to used it in which scene. Because it added the value of the scene and the series. Also to Gon appereance. Here, especially when Gon says “Welcome to my palace” . I mean, wow.

Lady Noh pissed and being overprotective to Gon. But its understandable. Now its JTE turn to be a stranger with no identity. As she said “You reap what you sow” . I appreciate Lady Noh professionalism here, eventhough she is a close person to Gon, but Gon is still a King here. There still boundaries and she knows that line and never crossing it. I adore this line of her to JTE “I should trust you, You’re my King’s guest” and bow. 👏🏼👏🏼 also i love how she scolded Gon. And Gon actually obedient to her words. Im soft for them.

Gon’s is back to work and planning to make a meal for JTE, which startled the hell out of SA and JY. Btw, both JY and SA should date because they were cute af. We only got to see a little of both, i want more 🥺

Just to appreciate the parallel scene as what we saw in episode 1, where JTE saw money with Gon face and teased him about it being monopoly money and teased him whether he buys many land. Here we saw Gon teased her upon seeing her hands in a red stamp and asking “did you sign a contract or something? Did you buy a land?” I just loved it. I also like on how JTE is still pretty much relax around Gon even when she knows he is a King. She casually asking his phone left unlocked for her to search something later. I think Gon’s line here was funny “who would even try to look through a King’s phone? No passcode” 🤣 Their bickering also funny. Gon expecting JTE appreciate the food he is making but JTE teased him by saying it taste bad, and how Gon look at JTE while she eat, is love, i love them, somebody help me. What i also realized here is that Gon also really relax when he is with JTE, he can be himself around her. He let go his upright posture, for example, we can see from his sitting posture, he is leaning to the chair unbothered. But when Lady Noh bark into the room he is back to his stiff posture.

Appreciation for this line “Is it far to the right or to the left of my room?” Gon’s smirk and Lady Noh’s face 🤣

The conversation between JTE and Lady Noh’s was quite bitter. She answer JTE question about how people here knows her, she explain that King has a strange ID with your name and face but it looks fake because no one in this world have this identity as stated on the ID card. “But that nonexistent person, suddenly appeared here. Its shocking. Everything is just absurd, but one thing im sure about. An existence that cannot be explained will only bring chaos to the world, and it will only harm our King” Lady Noh’s told JTE not to be curious about this world and not try to stay, she says “By “this world”, i mean, including, the King” im amazed by this line and how this Lady say it. Bitter truth. She is just being protective to the King.

JTE seems to think about Lady Noh’s words so much and bothered by it. I think she kinda wants to go home because he asked Gon when he will show her ID card. This conversation between Gon and JTE also gave us a glimpse of what a bad shooter Gon was. And led to us confusion and for me personally this led to me doubting many things of Gon savior on 1994 🤡 This bedroom scene was intense though, those who said both of them dont have chemistry better do an eye check or maybe somethings wrong with your heart, because the tension here was high, i mean their line here was iconic af

JTE “내가 뭐 하나 물어불 테니까 ‘예’, ‘아니요’로만 대답해” (im going to ask you something, so just answer with yes or no)

Gon “물어봐” (ask me)

JTE “연애 한 번도 안 해 봤지?” (You’ve never dated before, right?)

Gon “깜짝이야, 아닌데? 해 봤는데” (you startled me, you wrong, i have)

JTE “언제 해 봤는지 맞혀 불까?” (Should i guess when?)

Gon “맞혀 봐” (guess)

JTE “지금” (now)

And the music stop before Gon come closer to JTE and KISS HER SO SOFT then the piano continues to play, IM DEAD!

I love how JTE startled and open her eyes to analized what is happening and kind of give me a sight of her being curious in this whole new experience even the kiss. I love her acting!

Gon “내가 방금 뭘 증명했는지도 맞혀 봐. 연애해 본 거? 아니면, 지금 연애하는 거?” (Try guessing what i just proved. The fact that i’ve dated before? Or that im dating right now?” 💕

I still very mad that i dont get this piano backsound in the original ost! Why!!!! This piano play is everything and added the tension of this scene.

I dont know what else happens last night but Gon came to JTE room and said “I told you to sleep well but i guess you didn’t” 🤓 he has a plan to bring JTE out by pretending to be his bodyguard for a day slash wants to show off to his girlfriend that he is cool at work 😎 Lady Noh’s is such a party pooper however she dont have any choice but to let this weird King do his plan 💕

NO PICTURE TOGETHER 🤣

To be continue..

#the king eternal monarch #tkem #kim go eun #lee min ho #woo do hwan #jung eun chae #kim kyung nam #lee jung jin #kim eun sook

[clydlgn]

𝚂𝙷𝙸𝙿𝙿𝙸𝙽𝙶  𝙸𝙽𝙵𝙾   .  .  .    answer the following for your muse so people know how shipping works on your blog .

𝚆𝙷𝙰𝚃  𝙸𝚂  𝚈𝙾𝚄𝚁  𝙾𝚃𝙿  𝙵𝙾𝚁  𝚈𝙾𝚄𝚁  𝙲𝙷𝙰𝚁𝙰𝙲𝚃𝙴𝚁 ?

there’s not one as far as actual canon goes ,  but i love all my existing ships with my friends .  ♡

𝚆𝙷𝙰𝚃  𝙰𝚁𝙴  𝚈𝙾𝚄  𝚆𝙸𝙻𝙻𝙸𝙽𝙶  𝚃𝙾  𝚆𝚁𝙸𝚃𝙴  𝚆𝙷𝙴𝙽  𝙸𝚃  𝙲𝙾𝙼𝙴𝚂  𝚃𝙾  𝚂𝙷𝙸𝙿𝙿𝙸𝙽𝙶 ?

i’ll write anything so long as it maintains the integrity of clyde’s character  —  meaning just because they share a face ,  this is not a b.en s.olo  /  k.ylo r.en blog and i don’t really have a s/tar w/ars verse planned atm .  but i’ve been writing clyde super selectively since 2018 so i haven’t run into much issue with that .  on the flip side i haven’t done much more of anything to have specifics ,  but i will say all crimes aside ,  clyde is a soft romantic at heart so .  the most antagonistic romantic dynamic i can see for him would be rivals to lovers at best ,  unless you happen to write agent h/ilary s/wank from the film .

𝙷𝙾𝚆  𝙻𝙰𝚁𝙶𝙴  𝙳𝙾𝙴𝚂  𝚃𝙷𝙴  𝙰𝙶𝙴  𝙶𝙰𝙿  𝙷𝙰𝚅𝙴  𝚃𝙾  𝙱𝙴  𝚃𝙾  𝙼𝙰𝙺𝙴  𝙸𝚃  𝚄𝙽��𝙾𝙼𝙵𝙾𝚁𝚃𝙰𝙱𝙻𝙴 ?

clyde is 34 and owns a bar ,  so anything below drinking age is a no - go .  22 - 24 feels a little less weird ,  but he still probably wouldn’t .  he’d rather the youngest be 24  —  so a gap of 10 years+ ?

𝙰𝚁𝙴  𝚈𝙾𝚄  𝚂𝙴𝙻𝙴𝙲𝚃𝙸𝚅𝙴  𝚆𝙷𝙴𝙽  𝚂𝙷𝙸𝙿𝙿𝙸𝙽𝙶 ?

it depends !  i probably err on the side of yes though .

𝙷𝙾𝚆  𝙵𝙰𝚁  𝙳𝙾  𝚂𝚃𝙴𝙰𝙼𝚈  𝙼𝙾𝙼𝙴𝙽𝚃𝚂  𝙷𝙰𝚅𝙴  𝚃𝙾  𝙶𝙾  𝙱𝙴𝙵𝙾𝚁𝙴  𝚃𝙷𝙴𝚈  𝙰𝚁𝙴  𝙲𝙾𝙽𝚂𝙸𝙳𝙴𝚁𝙴𝙳  𝙽𝚂/𝙵𝚆 ?

honestly ,  probably anything beyond kissing .  i always read rules and follow my partner’s lead  /  comfort .

𝚆𝙷𝙾  𝙰𝚁𝙴  𝚃𝙷𝙴  𝙾𝚃𝙷𝙴𝚁  𝙲𝙷𝙰𝚁𝙰𝙲𝚃𝙴𝚁𝚂  𝚈𝙾𝚄  𝚂𝙷𝙸𝙿  𝚈𝙾𝚄𝚁  𝙲𝙷𝙰𝚁𝙰𝙲𝚃𝙴𝚁  𝚆𝙸𝚃𝙷 ?

it’s all about chemistry for me !  i could get behind a cat and mouse type dynamic between him and agent h/ilary s/wank where it gets messy and complicated due to her job and his crimes ,  but like .  again there aren’t many ship prospects in canon if that’s what this means .

𝙳𝙾𝙴𝚂  𝙾𝙽𝙴  𝙷𝙰𝚅𝙴  𝚃𝙾  𝙰𝚂𝙺  𝚃𝙾  𝚂𝙷𝙸𝙿  𝚆𝙸𝚃𝙷  𝚈𝙾𝚄 ?

sometimes i worry it’s a little unfair but yes ,  bc i just know i won’t make the first move towards making a ship happen unless you’re already a good friend of mine ooc and i feel comfortable yodeling at you as is .  i prefer chemistry most of all though ,  so if it develops organically through writing then you probably don’t have to ask !

𝙰𝚁𝙴  𝚈𝙾𝚄  𝚂𝙷𝙸𝙿  𝙾𝙱𝚂𝙴𝚂𝚂𝙴𝙳  𝙾𝚁  𝚂𝙷𝙸𝙿  𝙼𝙾𝚁𝙴 - 𝙾𝚁 - 𝙻𝙴𝚂𝚂 ?

most of my writing  /  development on clyde has happened with his ships ,  so i guess you could say i’m obsessed with those he has  —  but i really don’t go seeking ships out a whole lot in general .

𝙰𝚁𝙴  𝚈𝙾𝚄  𝙼𝚄𝙻𝚃𝙸𝚂𝙷𝙸𝙿 ?

yes !

𝚆𝙷𝙰𝚃  𝙸𝚂  𝚈𝙾𝚄𝚁  𝙵𝙰𝚅𝙾𝚄𝚁𝙸𝚃𝙴  𝚂𝙷𝙸𝙿  𝙸𝙽  𝚈𝙾𝚄𝚁  𝙲𝚄𝚁𝚁𝙴𝙽𝚃  𝙵𝙰𝙽𝙳𝙾𝙼 ?

* rolls in nonexistent fandom *  idk ,  jimmy and sylvie ???  that has nothing to do with clyde though asdfgh .

𝙵𝙸𝙽𝙰𝙻𝙻𝚈 ,  𝙷𝙾𝚆  𝙳𝙾𝙴𝚂  𝙾𝙽𝙴  𝚂𝙷𝙸𝙿  𝚆𝙸𝚃𝙷  𝚈𝙾𝚄 ?

be my pal ,  write with me ,  see where it goes !

𝚃𝙰𝙶𝙶𝙴𝙳  𝙱𝚈   .  .  .    @felinewiles​​  ♡ 𝚃𝙰𝙶𝙶𝙸𝙽𝙶   .  .  .    anyone who wants to !

#❪ ooc. ❫ #❪ dash game. ❫