#one was either a fish or snake | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

radiance1 · 4 months

Text

Jack was an inventor. A hunter. A walking tank of a man who could intimate anyone he wanted to if he weren't such a joyful man.

Daniel was not.

He was short, thin, calm and composed where his father was the sun. He was not a hunter, nor an inventor.

Talia was an assassin. A living, walking weapon. Impossible to notice footsteps. The eyes of a predator and all the grace of one moving in for the kill.

Daniel was not.

He was a failed heir. A less refined weapon than his mother. Footsteps heavy and loud compared to his mother. The eyes of a cold, dead fish with no life and nothing left to give.

He did not know it at the time but.

Daniel was a doctor. Someone that saved people. Mended broken bodies. Always carrying something to help. Nothing but medical knowledge rolling around in his head and the desire to save. Life saver.

Damian was the successful heir. Son of Bruce Wayne. Quiet footsteps. The eyes of a predator. Body trained to perfection. A master of the sword. Life taker.

A success, where he failed.

A battle of heirs. An outcome already decided, already known, already foreseen.

There should've only been one.

And indeed, there was none but one.

In spite of his loss, his failure, he was not exterminated as he thought he should have been. He was instead placed in the pits, the water mending his broken body not for the first time, then taken out, and found himself alongside his mother.

That was the last time he saw of her, and his brother. Only a scar where his brother would have killed him, refusing to be healed, left behind in remembrance.

He then found himself with a family. His father's family. Daniel knew of his father, a genius inventor who could build a great many things from scraps of metal, a gene that, while respected, was not what the League wanted.

It was a fling, and nothing more.

He gained a new mother and a sister. Inserted into a family who welcome him with open arms, yet already had their own dynamics that they practiced from time to time, and he always found himself at a loss when they try to fit him in them in some way.

Then, when he turned ten years of age, a year without seeing hide nor hair of his mother and brother. Came a man, Vlad Masters.

Vlad Masters was confident, self-assured. Well trained. Having money to spend in spades and spades yet making all that and more. The eyes of someone who thought themselves better than most, eyes of a snake, a spider, slowly waiting for something to take the bait.

Despite all of this, a certain sense of loneliness seemed to hang around him like an ever-present cloud. Something Danny only realized was there, when he caught the man broken down.

Daniel did not know how to feel of Vlad Masters.

Vlad Masters did not like his father, even though he seemed to treat his mother like an old friend, the same way his father treated him. He seemed both fond and somewhat off put by his sister, Jasmine Fenton.

Daniel finds himself respecting and sympathizing with that sentiment.

Jasmine Fenton was nice. Social. Unaware of her unconscious ability to think herself superior. Thinks she is often right. Does not like to be wrong. Likes to think things through.

Likes to peer inside of someone's head.

Daniel does not like that. Vlad does not like it either.

But she is nice, good intentioned, his sister. So he will overlook it. She is also Vlad's goddaughter, and so he too, will overlook that trait of hers.

Daniel was not interested in a great many things. He was not fond of swordsmanship, even though he was ruthlessly trained in it. He was not fond of building like his father, not as fond as running calculations to make inventions work like his mother, was not fond of, and while a useful ability, peering into the heads of others.

He was, however, found of what he found in Vlad Masters' basement. Something he believes was to be kept secret, yet found anyway.

He was unsure of how much time he spent occupied with what he found, time spent with eyes that only blinked when they were forced to because of dryness.

Time that was cut, when the owner of said basement, found him.

Curiously enough, he did not throw him out, and Danny did not notice him when exactly the man got there, nor how long he was there, until he made himself known.

He offered to teach Daniel of the knowledge he so sought, and Daniel only took a few seconds to accept the hand outstretched to him.

Four years. Four years did Daniel study under Vlad Masters, growing his understanding of the human body, watching how exactly to hold a scalpel properly, how to use certain equipment, what exactly to do that would let the human body heal without changing anything too much.

How to help, how to save lives. What to use to cut away pain, and help those in need.

A way to repent for every inch of blood on his small hands, was what Daniel saw.

Vlad Masters did not often make mistakes. His every move was far too calculated for such a thing. But he does, in rare cases, make mistakes.

One of them, was how Daniel found out about his unique biology. Vlad Masters was something called a halfa, a mix between the undead and living, a ghost and human.

It reminded him, not for the first time since he came to live in Amity Park, just how much ectoplasm reminded him of Lazarus Water. Yet he could tell, knew they were different due to various factors.

He wondered if he should try and write to his mother about this, more than once.

He did not.

After his 14th birthday, Vlad said that there was not much more he could teach him. Daniel soaked up all the knowledge given to him like a sponge, and retained all of it easily.

As a jest, he was told that he was allowed to pick a new name because of this.

He thought it was serious.

So he chose Danny. A name that came from one the rare, soft moments between him and his elder brother. Where he could not yet pronounce his name properly, before he underwent correction, a time where both of them were all smiles and no blood on their hands.

Danny.

The rift between Vlad Masters and Jack Fenton somehow, without his notice, closed. They were acting as if they were the best of friends, more so his father than Vlad Masters, and they became a functioning family with their odd little quirks.

When he turned 15, he went to Gotham. He was living with his sister while she attended college there, he did not want to go to school, so he did not.

It took many a time of convincing for them to finally allow it.

Danny did not know Gotham. He knew of it. He knew this to be the home of his brother's father, Bruce Wayne, that it was the city with the most crime, the city home to a notorious number of villains.

The city under watch and protected by Batman.

But not much more than that. He did not care for his brother's father, for whatever legacy he had fell only to his brother to fulfil. He hoped his brother achieved what he wished for.

Back then, and still today.

He wandered the streets of Gotham when Jazz was occupied. Familiarizing himself with the environment and finding out what was where and where is that.

Not for the first time, he found injured, and not for the first time, he treated them free of charge.

He had more than enough money to resupply himself, thanks to his mentor filling his account with money every month.

He gained a bit of a reputation, that child with a far too large lab coat. Dead fisheyes, a wandering doctor who treats anyone injured he came across. Though his reputation was small, having recently just came to Gotham.

One day, curiously enough, he found something new in his endless days of wandering.

A boy dead on his feet, covered in dirt, a ruined suit and looking like he just pulled himself out of a grave crossing the street, unaware of the car speeding towards him.

He was hit, and somehow landed in front of Danny.

He crunched down on his lollipop, throwing the stick through the air and into a nearby trashcan without looking while opening another and placing it in his mouth.

He took the boy home in what a normal person would essentially call a kidnapping,

He did not know how the boy, older than him, survived the trip back to his home. But he wasn't going to complain about it. He entered a room, one filled with medical equipment, the best that could be offered, and placed his mystery guest one of many beds.

He treated him as best as he could, then left to go get something to eat.

He still stuck to his wandering, but he regularly checked in on his guest. A week later, and the boy was awake, sitting up in his bed when Danny opened the door to check on him.

He introduced himself as Jason Todd.

Then he disappeared for some time, and the bed that held him for a week was empty.

Sometime later, he heard of Red Hood.

He did not know what to think of the gunslinger in red, and what his stake in the politics of Gotham would be. He didn't exactly care for the politics, so he stayed away from it.

He did not know why the Red Hood held good will towards him, considering they have not met before. But he was claimed to be under his 'protection' for reasons unknown.

The reason, he found out, after carrying the man to his home (it was a bit of struggle, but Danny was the son of Jack Fenton, and took after him in strength as well, although to a lesser degree), placed him in one of many beds, and found out his identity.

Red Hood was Jason Todd, a patient he had not seen for some time now turned lord of crime.

It was a bit surprising, but not something that mattered.

Perhaps it should have, when he found himself sitting across from the protectors of the night who decided to invite themselves into the house alongside his sister with a Red Hood that looked like he was none too pleased by this situation.

And a brother he had not seen in many a year.

#dc x dp #dp x dc #dpxdc #dp x dc crossover #dcxdp #dc x dp crossover #Danny is not a halfa #Danny is fully human #Although Danny is still Jack Fenton's child and trained by the league #Ectoplasm and Lazarus Water are not the same thing #Danny is a doctor #He also has dead fisheyes because I kinda like that #danny and damian are twins

2K notes · View notes

blueicequeen19 · 26 days

Text

The Nanny Pt. 2

Warnings: non-con, rough, unprotected sex, throat fucking, jealousy, controlling, threats of forced pregnancy, very dark Rafe 😮‍💨

The kids were finally fast asleep after another long, exhausting summer day. Not only did you have to keep up with three kids but you also had to deal with Rafe’s insatiable appetite. He’d throw away all of your panties and bottoms and insisted you only wear dresses so he had easy access. More often than not you’d wake up to him inside you, murmuring filthy words as you drifted back off to sleep. There wasn’t a moment when you weren’t sore or still felt him deep inside you when you moved.

You could barely put one foot in front of the other as you made your way down the stairs and to the back sliding door. The sudden water splashing in the pool startled you and you turned to see the pool boy fishing out toys with the net, your heart racing in your chest.

“You scared me!” JJ laughed, his muscles and tan skin on display. He’d be attractive if it weren’t for the fact he was fucking the bosses wife. But you were also fucking the boss..

“Sorry about that JJ!” You called, walking slowly backwards towards the guest house as you waved a hand.

“No worries! Happy to help! It’s good seeing you again!” JJ offers a sweet, bright grin before a flash of movement catches your eye. JJ is suddenly thrown back, the sound of skin on concrete making you cringe as curses ring out loudly.

“What the f—.” JJ is cut off, hauled up by his shirt before you can even move. The look in Rafe’s eyes was murderous as he choked JJ with both hands.

“Rafe!”

“Don’t let me catch you around here again. You don’t look at her. You don’t talk to her. And if it wasn’t clear already you’re fired.” Rafe shoves JJ away who stumbles, coughing and clutching his throat as he makes a beeline for the back gate.

“Rafe, what was—.” Rafe spins on you next, his hand around your throat as he pins you against the side of the house. A choked cry leaves you as Rafe presses his hard body against yours.

“You’re mine. Got that? No flirting with the fucking help.” Rafe snarls, his grip on your throat loosening enough for you to suck in a breath.

“I wasn’t—.” Rafe shoves you to your knees before you can respond, yanking his cock free from his pants so it’s directly in your face. His hands clamp down on either side of your head to hold you in place.

“Choke on it until I say stop.” There’s nothing else you can do so you open your mouth, letting him shove his way in and hit the back of your throat. You immediately gag, pushing at his thighs but he doesn’t stop as he starts to fuck your throat.

“Fucking open up.” Rafe growls, letting you suck in a breath as tears fall down your cheeks before starting again. Your tongue is out and you fight to breathe through your nose as he punishes you. Not caring about the mess of saliva you’re making or the makeup burning your eyes.

“Fuck.” Rafe releases a sexy groan before pulling out and yanking you to your feet. You suck in breath after breath as he spins you, forcing your chest against the side of the house while he yanks your panties down your legs.

“I didn’t do anything!” You cry just as his hand slides between your legs to cup your sex. His chest is firm against your back as his curls two fingers inside you, making you fight back a moan. You hated how wet you were from this kind of treatment. There was no other way to describe Rafe but crazy. Utterly and completely crazy.

“Good. Let this be a lesson to you. Don’t let me catch you talking to any man that’s not me.” Rafe replaces his fingers with his cock, shoving in hard and making you cry out from the stretch.

“Rafe.” You bite out, his hand snaking around to grip your throat as he pounds into you mercilessly.

“Mmm, I missed this pussy.” It had only been a few hours since he cornered you last.

“Someone will see.” You wheezed, spots appearing in your eyes as you near your peak alarmingly quick.

“They might hear too.” Rafe mocked in your ear, his pelvis slamming harder and harder against the swells of your ass. When he bit down on your neck it was impossible to stop the tsunami that crashed into you. It was so intense that you couldn’t even make a sound except for a gasp of air. Rafe laughed against your skin, trailing his tongue up your neck before biting your earlobe. You clawed at the house, desperate for something to cling to before your knees gave out.

“I’ve always wanted a big family.” Rafe murmured against your ear, his hands tightening on your hips.

“Maybe I should knock you up too so you don’t ever think about leaving me.” Panic gripped you at his threat and you attempted to twist away only for him to knock you down onto one of the pool loungers, pinning your body beneath his.

“Rafe— please— don’t.” You cried, digging your nails into his thigh as he thrust harder and harder. His hand was suddenly in your hair, yanking your head back at an uncomfortable angle as he hissed in your ear.

“Then do as I say. No talking. Smiling. Laughing. Nothing, with other men except me. Are we clear?”

“Yes! Jesus!” Rafe suddenly pulled back, hastily flipping you on your back and moving on top of your chest as he stroked his cock hard. Angrily.

You locked eyes and that seemed to trigger him. Along with your disheveled state. You watched as his eyes rolled back and he groaned loudly as he came all over your chest and face, marking you.

You remained frozen as he rode out his high, stroking himself until the last drop of cum hit your flesh. Finally, Rafe sighed in contempt before raising and tucking himself away then throwing a towel onto your chest.

“Remember what I said. Or I’ll make sure you stay pregnant with my children and never get the chance to leave.”

#smutwarning #outer banks smut #obx2 #rafe fanfiction #dark!reader #tw dark themes #rafe imagine #rafe cameron #dark rafe cameron #rafe outer banks #blueicequeen19 #dark content

761 notes · View notes

myhappylittlesideblog · 1 month

Text

Gotch-yer Back

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3.5K

Warnings: Violence, Walker death, other TWD character death (Amy), Daryl being a bit of a jerk and then fixing it, let me know if there's anything else! Basically what seems to be regular TWD fanfic warnings. Also I believe this is only Fem!Reader because he calls Reader "girl."

Summary: A retelling of the night walkers attack at the quarry and how you and Daryl help each other deal with the aftermath.

You tried to remember the last time you’d eaten fish. It had been a while, a few weeks maybe? A few long weeks forcing yourself to eat squirrel or a rabbit if you were lucky. Or if you were unlucky, even snake. You’d eat whatever was caught if you were hungry enough, or simply to stay alive another day.

Fish was a delicacy these days. The girls- Amy and Andrea had caught a load of them in the quarry. It was white fish which had always been your favorite. It was easy to cook and fell apart in yummy flakes. Hell, you didn’t even need a fork.

It was hot in your mouth and the heat of the meal radiated in your belly. The group chewed and chattered while you were lost in your own thoughts. Your mother used to make a great dish when you lived with her. Cod with a breading on top that was made with Ritz crackers. You missed her. You missed her cooking. You wondered where she was now-

Everyone laughed suddenly and the sound made you jump.

“William Faukner,” Dale said, smiling.

Lori reached over Carl and rested a comforting hand on your arm. Understanding glowed in her eyes in the firelight. Loud noises always made you nervous these days.

By the time you saw the pan of fish that had been passed around, the last filet was being pulled out of it by a stabbing fork.

“Shouldn’t we save some?” you asked Lori. “The guys’ll be back soon.”

“We’ll catch some more tomorrow,” Andrea said to you, catching your attention from a few seats down.

“Yeah,” Amy said. “We’re pros.”

Despite the light conversation, Lori looked grim. You and her seemed to be the only people worried about the men who’d gone off to find Merle and the bag of guns that was left in the street in Atlanta. She had her arm around Carl as he munched and grinned at Dale. You couldn’t imagine how she was feeling about her husband’s return, nevermind his volunteering to lead the charge back into one of the most dangerous places in this new age. He’d just gotten back. It was written all over her face as she gazed into the flames of the fire.

You weren’t a fan of Merle. In fact, you disliked him thoroughly. The pit in your gut surrounding his abandonment had nothing to do with his safety, or his life, but with Daryl’s. You weren’t even sure if you liked the younger Dixon either. He seemed to follow too closely in his brother’s footsteps to be safe or dependable. Or even nice. But you did respect him. After all, he’d helped to keep you safe and almost single handedly kept the group fed with his hunting and tracking skills.

Still, no. He wasn’t very nice.

You had a feeling, however, that you had his respect in return. It only took a few crude remarks from Merle for you to fire back at him with enough force to keep him off your back for a few days. Daryl apparently hadn’t been too far away that day and had heard your reply to Merle’s degrading comments.

“Impressive,” he’d said. “For a quiet girl.”

The next time Merle got colorful with his words towards you, Daryl was the one to take the heat for you. Told his brother to quit it. Since then, your relationship with the older Dixon was extremely minimal and even when it was forced, he left you alone.

Though you wouldn’t have missed Merle one bit, you watched Daryl take the news of his desertion when the cop- Rick- told him what had happened on the supply run. While you of course expected fury from Daryl, you hadn’t expected such emotion to fly out of him. He was a wrecking ball of threats and fists with tears running down his dirty cheeks. It was sad.

He must have seen the pity in your face then. When you called to him, tried to calm him down and move him away from Shane, he’d shoved you. “Get lost, girl.”

Needless to say, the men in this group were difficult. But at least the others were in the group. Daryl was on the outskirts of it and without his brother, it would be too easy for him to get thrust out. While you didn’t want that, you knew it was also vital for the survival of the group for him to stay. You had a feeling he wasn’t as impenetrable as the armor he wore.

You were worried about Daryl. You were also worried about Glenn and T-Dog, and Rick- Lori and Carl included. And as you sat there before the fire, you wondered what the hell would happen if Merle returned.

That was when you heard Amy scream. You didn’t recognize the sound at first, it was so sudden and so loud. It was a cry of anguish and fear. One that begged for help.

After that, it was chaos.

You turned over your shoulder, watching Amy and her assailant, even pondering for a split second who had snuck into the camp. What stranger would go after a girl just trying to go to the bathroom. But of course, it wasn’t a who. It was a what.

“Get behind me!” Shane roared.

You knew there wasn’t time. Reaching into your pocket, you grabbed the unfamiliar hunting knife you had with you and unsheathed it. You stepped over the log you’d been sitting on, away from the fire, but also further away from Shane and the safety of his gun, towards one of the geeks. It wasn’t just ugly and rank and dead, it was terrifying. The look of it, the smell of it made your stomach sink so far, it felt like it’d fell out of your body.

It snarled and gnashed its mouth at you while its thin, wiry fingers reached for you, but all the while, you focused on its hair. It was the same in death as it was in life- long locks of protein that couldn’t hurt you. Harmless. So you aimed your knife there.

In the brain, in the brain, it has to be in the brain, don’t you know anything-

The thing stopped once your knife sunk into its skull. Its arms dropped to its hollow sides and its lifeless eyes looked at you, long enough to send a shudder through you before it dropped to the ground, taking your one and only weapon with it.

“Get up here! Come to the RV!” you heard.

There were more screams, the thunk of childhood baseball bats slamming into hard skulls, the echoing sound of gunshots. Closer to you, though, and more urgently, there was deep guttural snarling, groaning and gurgling- the sound of the dead coming for you.

Shane had brought the children to the RV, safe, their backs leaning against the cold metal. Lori and Carol were there, Jim was at the treeline with his bat, Andrea on the ground with- with Amy. Amy’s body. You were alone. In the middle of the chaos, too far from any other living humans to take any aid.

“(Y/N)! Get up here! Jim!” Shane’s voice was hoarse.

You dove for your knife, yanking it out of the walker’s head with a squelch. You could only manage three or four steps up the hill before another undead was upon you. It was too close, its long nails a hair’s breadth away from your bare skin and its decaying teeth lunging closer with every stride. Again, you had to gather all your strength, grip your knife tight and focus- be calm enough to aim for the enemy’s brain. You had one chance, or you’d turn into one of them.

Carl would have to see it, Sophia, Lori. Daryl.

You grunted with the effort and the tip of the knife hit home and sunk into the geek’s head. This time you were able to free your knife before the thing fell to the ground. You scanned the land in front of you, looking for more threats. There were so many bodies on the ground. Bodies of people from your group, people that you’d gotten to know. They were lying still now. Leaking onto the dirt.

Then an arm wrapped around your middle and dragged you uphill. You screamed and thrashed, but whatever had you was strong.

“It’s me,” his voice rasped in your ear.

It immediately calmed you. You held onto Daryl’s arm as if it were a buoy saving you from drowning in gray, storming waves of a murderous ocean. He led you to the others near the van and deposited you there before letting go of you.

He was back. You saw Rick, T-Dog and Glenn, all in various states of emotional disrepair, but Daryl just looked around, calmly taking in the carnage.

“Daryl,” you said to him, “you okay?”

“Whaddah you think?” he snarled. “Ya see mah brother anywhere? Huh?”

So the moment was short lived. You ignored whatever he said next, running your hand along the outside of the RV, using it as a crutch as you moved to check on Carol and Sophia, then on Lori. You didn’t have it in you to survey much more than that. You trembled from the inside out and watched Rick hug his little boy as tears streamed down his face.

At least they were back.

It was somewhat painstakingly decided that you would all save the cleanup for tomorrow morning. The survivors had vans or tents to escape into. To leave the dead outside. Except for Andrea. One look at her- that was all you could handle- and you knew she wasn’t going to leave her sister any time soon.

You fell to your knees, jeans sinking into the soft dirt and stared into the flames of the campfire that was still burning strong. It was only then you found the hunting knife still in your tight grip, crusted over with brown, lumpy goo. At that point in the night, you couldn’t understand exactly what the remains were and for that, you were grateful. The bit of blade still showing reflected in the light coming from the pit, shades of orange and red glowing between your fingers.

Shane crouched beside you and though his landing was silent and agile, you jumped.

“S’alright,” he said, taking the weapon out of your scrunched hand. “Lemme clean it.”

“I can clean it,” Daryl grumbled from above, snatching the knife from Shane. “S’mine anyway.”

Shane let it happen, concentrating on you. He carefully set a hand on your shoulder. “Ya did good,” he said.

“You too,” you answered, like a little league pitcher on the losing team.

He stood and put his hands on his hips. “Try ta get some rest,” he said from the air.

You nodded.

Only when Shane was gone, did Daryl move closer to you. He sat on the ground and leaned back against the log the group had been using as dinner seats less than an hour ago. He sat back for a while, leaving you to watch the flames die down as he worked one of his rags into the crevices of the hunting knife. Slowly, you heard the others of the group- those living- say goodnight to each other and slide into their respective dwellings for what was left of the evening.

Distantly, though he sat just beside you, you heard Daryl speak. “S’right bout one thing.”

“Hm?”

“Ya did good. I saw ya when we were runnin’ up the hill. Doin’ what I told ya to do.”

You turned to him, but he wasn’t looking at you. Your feet stung under you, asleep after kneeling on them for so long, as you moved to sit on your bottom next to Daryl. He turned the cleaned knife in his hand before passing it you, handle out.

You shook your head. “It’s yours.”

He plopped it on your lap. “S’yours now. I gave it to ya. You’ll need it.”

You didn’t want to need it. He knew that too. All the same, it was a good thing he’d left it with you when he went to Atlanta. If he didn’t, you wouldn’t be sitting next to him right now. Speaking to him. Feeling the heat that didn’t just emit from the fire, but from him by your side as well.

“Thank you,” you said, sliding the knife back into its sheath and into your pocket, where you hoped it would stay, unneeded for a long time. Or at least for the rest of the night.

You turned to him, but again, he wasn’t looking at you. He rarely did. But you knew he was still there, still with you by the way his head tilted towards you. Like he was watching you out of the corner of his eye. As if you were a deer in the forest, ready to bolt away from him at any moment.

“I’m sorry you didn’t find Merle.”

He shifted uncomfortably. “Yeah right. You hate Merle.”

“Hate is a strong word,” you said.

He chuckled- a grim, gruff sound deep in his chest.

You watched him, feeling free to do so since he so rarely looked you in the eye. He was biting the inside of his lip over and over and picking at his fingernails.

You waited.

He peeked at you, inhaling deep. “Didn’ mean ta snap atcha. Earlier.”

When he yelled, you thought. By the RV, after he’d pulled you to safety.

You nodded. “S’alright. It’s been a tough day all around.”

Humming in agreement, he turned back to the fire. You two were square now. But you also hoped he knew that if he snapped at you like that again, you wouldn’t be so quick to forgive.

There was a flapping from above that shook the leaves in the trees. It was a soft, peaceful sound of nature, but after this night, in this new world, it startled you to your core.

“Just a bird,” Daryl said.

You sucked in a breath that made your lungs quake in your chest. “I’m sick of being so scared all the damn time,” you mumbled, tipping your head forward, holding your face in your hands. Things had only been like this for two months? Three? And you were already exhausted, tired of it all. How much longer could you take? Or, how much longer would it take for you to just-

Daryl stood. “Come on,” he said. He waved toward his tent. “Gotta getcha away from this damn bloodbath ‘er you’ll never calm down.”

You violently shook your head. “I can’t- I don’t wanna be alone-”

He was already walking toward the tent he shared with Merle. “Yer stayin’ with me. So I know where ya are.”

Your system went from fight or flight to frozen. He- Daryl- wanted you- where? After every shove and snap and swear towards you, now he wanted you to come with him? To be in his space? Overnight?

You stared at him. He tossed his crossbow into his tent, lifting the flap and heading inside when he turned back and saw you still on the ground in front of the fire.

“Or do ya wanna stay out here alone?”

“No.”

“Then get off yer ass.”

You scrambled to your feet and scurried to the tent’s flap. You felt like a scolded child, like your dignity had been left in the dirt, but you didn’t care. After the walker attack, you couldn’t be alone and you had been trusting Daryl with your life for weeks now, not that you’d ever tell anyone that. You felt the safest when you were with him. Tonight you needed that. Especially tonight.

“Ya can take that side,” Daryl mumbled, pointing.

The tent was small. Big enough to stand up in, but not very wide. There were two sleeping bags strewn out close to each other with a lumpy pillow on each. He tossed an extra blanket onto the side he told you to take. It was the one with the crossbow at its foot. And you recognized his cut off flannel shoved into the duffle beside it.

“I can’t take your bed.”

“Ain’t a bed,” he said, spreading the other sleeping bag open flat and sitting on it.

“Well, I can’t take your bag.”

“Would you rather stick your face in Merle’s pillow all night?”

You grimaced, thinking of the monster of a man and what he’d probably done to that innocent pillow.

“Thought not,” Daryl said. He grumbled it, but you heard the smirk in his voice.

“The definition of ‘pick your poison’,” you said, crouching to sit on the soft sleeping bag.

“Girl-” Daryl said, swatting at you as he rolled over, putting his back to you.

You swung back, smacking his shoulder. “I was kidding.”

In answer, he gave another blind swat, making you giggle.

You laid back into the double layer of sleeping bag, enjoying the way it was cool to the touch underneath you. The pillow, though thin, felt nice when you situated it under your head the way you liked it. Everything around you smelled like him- gas, grease, cigarettes- yes, but something else too. It wasn’t a bad smell, just a natural one. Just Daryl.

You were laying on your side, facing him. You watched him sink into the darkness as you spun the dial on the lantern until it turned off. Dark, though it was, you could still see his form clearly. Not sleeping yet.

“Thank you, Daryl,” you said.

He grunted, flopping to lay on his back and folding one of his arms under his head. “Get some sleep.”

It was then you realized how small the tent really was. When he laid on his back, his leg could almost touch your knee as you curled up on your side. He was an enigma, alright, you thought. Couldn’t bear to look you in the eye, saved your life, snapped at you in front of everyone and now slept beside you like it was nothing.

You sighed, following suit and laying on your back too. “Don’t think I’m gonna be able to catch much of that,” you said.

His pillow rustled as he looked toward you. “What the hell happened there?” He took your hand from where it rested over your forehead and studied the angry red scrapes and purple bruising on your knuckles. “This happen tonight?”

“No,” you said, taking your hand from his grasp and tucking it under you, embarrassed. “Happened earlier.”

“How’d you bust it up like that?”

“I, um… I just hurt it. Against Ed’s face.”

Daryl gave a laughing hiss. “I saw his face. You did that?”

“Some of it. Shane did the rest.”

“Fuck yeah.”

“He had it comin’,” you said, barely finishing the last word and regretting saying anything at all. Ed may have deserved a few punches, hell, he deserved jail time. But what happened to him tonight- eaten alive, alone- you weren’t sure anyone deserved that. It made your stomach roll in your gut and you stung with shame.

“Fucking badass, girl,” Daryl said.

It was quiet in the dark for a long moment.

“M’not, Daryl. I’m just fucking scared.”

There was more rustling beside you as Daryl shimmied around on his sleeping bag.

“Turn over. That way,” he said.

You did as he told you, laying on your side with your back to him. His body moved up against yours, his heat blooming on your shoulders, bum, and the backs of your legs. A little too forcefully, he lifted your head to slide his arm underneath and cradle you close.

“Ain’t nothin’ gettin’ in this tent tonight. I gotch’yer back. You can handle your front.”

You nodded, feeling tears gather in your eyes. Your cheeks were hot, as though they were on fire as you cried, finally letting out the emotion of the evening. The death, the kills, the fear, and the relief all ran down your face and into your shirt or onto Daryl’s pillow or his arm supporting your head. As your breath caught, he reached around you with his free arm, hugging you close and rubbing his thumb on the skin of your injured hand. You grasped him hard. You needed to.

Before this night, you weren’t sure what you thought of the younger Dixon brother. He was rough and nasty and you wondered just how much he took after Merle. Before this moment, you thought he’d run for the hills if you ever touched him with one single finger, nevermind your whole body- your whole being like you were now. But he was there, still with you and unbothered. Safe.

“Sleep,” he mumbled.

You nodded, squeezing his hand again before letting it go and allowing your body to relax against his. And eventually, in his arms, listening to his steady breath, you slept.

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon fluff #Daryl dixon twd #twd #twd fanfiction #twd daryl dixon #twd daryl #daryl twd #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl #the walking dead daryl #daryl fanfiction #daryl x reader #the walking dead

409 notes · View notes

night-raven-tattler · 4 months

Text

Love beyond spoken words - part 2

Summary: Everyone has a way of saying "I love you" without using those three words.

Characters: Jamil, Rook, Idia, Sebek × GN!Reader (separate, romantic)

Other parts of the series: Ace, Jack, Azul

Warnings: none

By opening the document, you agree to Mx Tattly's terms of source confidentiality.

-ˋˏ’✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

Jamil was going through his personalised version of the stages of grief while stacking away the boxes of expensive fabric Kalim brought from Silk City that he promised to give to Professor Crewel

Without his knowledge, as always

But this time wasn't too bad, since you were there to help him with the boxes

And he quite enjoyed your company, so the opportunist in him simply refused to deny himself of you when you kindly offered to lend him a helping hand

He even offered you one of his hair ties when your hair kept falling on your face

You knew Jamil had a certain possesiveness over his personal belongings, so you couldn't help but feel a bit flustered at the offer

You still accepted the hair tie, however

After your finished putting the boxes away, Grim came into the room looking for you because the Headmage requested your help with some errand

And you didn't get the chance to hand Jamil his hair tie back

Jamil was surprised by how little it bothered him that his hair tie was with you; instead of being upset you took something from him like he expected he'd feel, he was somewhat glad you had something of his with you

...Maybe it was silly, it was just a hair tie after all

Yet, it almost made him feel like he was claiming you in some way-

A thought so embarassing he had to cover his whole face with his hoodie

He was walking in the hallways with Kalim as his Housewarden talked about The Great Seven know what, when Kalim suddenly stopped himself mid-rant and fished something out of his pocket

"I totally forgot! Reader bumped into me today and told me to give this to you!"

It was a small paper bag with a snake doodled on it

Jamil snatched it from Kalim, not wanting him to hold something from you any longer, and opened the bag

Inside he found a little note and two hair ties: the one he gave you, and another one that had a small charm with your favorite symbol on it

"I know you don't like when people use your things, so I wanted to give it back. I also gave you one of mine so take care of it!"

He didn't understand the logic behind you giving him your own hair tie, but he took the bag from you and hid it carefully in his pocket, where he occasionally let his hands rest throughout the day

Jamil was very curious about your little offering, so he asked you about it over text

"I wanted to offer it to you as an apology for holding onto your stuff for too long so you won't be mad at me."

Your goody-two-shoes silly logic made him chuckle

As he was about to playfully scold you for your thinking, he saw another chat bubble coming from you that made him drop his phone

"...besides, is it really that bad that I wanted you to have something of mine too?"

Cheeks burning with fluster, he texted you a quick goodnight before he put his phone onto his nightstand, face down so not even the inanimate object could see him like this

Jamil struggled with the idea of you wanting to leave your mark on him, the same selfish idea he carried in his heart

Yet, he didn't mind either of your selfishness

That's why you found Jamil's hair tie under your desk first thing in the morning, a small note attached to it

"If I will have to carry something that belongs to you with me, it wouldn't be fair if you didn't do the same."

『••✎••』

You were enjoying your break outside when you heard a sharp object hit the tree you were leaning against, and based on the piece of paper attached to it, someone special wanted to tell you something

"My love, a whisper

My arrow, a listener

A most blessed messenger

It'll seek your heart to alter

For your blush I'm after."

Your degree in the language of Rook Hunt told you several things: 1. He was on a mission to live up to his name and hunt for your heart... or something

And 2. He really liked his "arrow of love" metaphors

Rook also was likely very amused by how on the nose he was being by sending you love poems via arrow aimed at your surroundings

It happened often enough for you to become unable to differenciate between the quickening pace of your heart from the spook and the one from knowing your boyfriend wanted to remind you of his love for you

Rook had some questionable ways of making your heart skip a beat, and it was borderline annoying how good he was at getting what he wanted

Something about the message itself was a bit off to you

Wasn't counterproductive for a hunter to let its prey know that he was after it?

You never knew what Rook was about to do next, and your heartbeat quickened once again with anticipation for his next move

...which happened soon enough

If the Headmage knew of the arrow currently stuck to your door and damaging the school property, you'd be in trouble

You just wanted to rest peacefully after your classes, but it seemed like Rook had other plans

"My eyes give gentle kisses to your heart

I want to read you, I want to learn you

The world in your chest, your own flow of art

Painted in the loveliest of hues."

You looked around, suddenly overwhelmed with the feeling of being watched

At this point you were convinced he was toying with you, like a cat after it caught a mouse

But Rook had plans other than to harm you...

He enjoyed the chase, maybe a bit at the expense of your heart, which would jump out of your chest at every over the top declaration of love

You could think of only one way to somewhat get back at him

The vice housewarden was scribbling in his notebook at his desk when he heard footsteps nearing his room, followed by a knock at the door

He smiled and opened the door, revealing your flustered self, fidgeting with a piece of paper in your hands

"Roses are red

You look very merry

I'm not good at writing poems

So just kiss me already."

Rook's eyes widened for a few seconds before he burst into a delighter laughter as he wrapped his arms around you

You thought his over the top affection was what affected you the most, but you were so wrong

All along, it was the little things that made your heart explode

His laughter and the beating of your heart were the only melody echoing in your ears, while your face was being admired by Rook's lovesick eyes

"As you wish, mon amour."

『••✎••』

When you and Idia started dating, you knew he was a peculiar guy

He texted you "good morning" at 5 P.M., he liked to tease you about your grades and wishing the school system was digitalized so he could hack into the school and modify your grades, and he liked gifting you small, cute robots that he built during his sleepless nights

You were dedicated to peel off every layer of your angsty, dramatic, onion of a lover and try to understand his ways of showing he cares about you

Unfortunately, the first obstacle you had to face was his way of texting you

Idia was both a genius and a smartass: he liked sending you secret messages through emojis, but he'd never give you any hint to help you decode them

You rolled your eyes as his favorite combo of emojis popped onto your screen through the notification of your messaging app

"➡️👤🛠️👆💙➡️🤪"

You suspected he either liked testing your abilities to decypher his code, or he was to afraid to outright say what he felt

It's not like Idia was shy in his affections, as peculiar as they were

It was more like he was... hesitant

Afraid, even

"I will take that as a compliment"

You watched as the chat bubble appeared on your screen, carrying Idia's reply

"whehehe did you really look at a code with unknown meaning and assumed it was positive? lmaooooo"

Both of you knew he wouldn't do that

Not because he wasn't capable of it, but because Ortho would threaten to scratch up his P.E. gear again

"Not my fault you sent me code instead of telling me how pretty we both know you think I am"

"oooooo someone's confident 💘💘💘💘"

Well, at least that one was easy enough to decypher

The code Idia sent to you always came out of nowhere, like a sudden stream of thoughts that he couldn't keep to himself

It was sweet, really, and it wasn't like you disliked his little codes

Being a gamer at heart, Idia loved games, and they were an important part of him

If Idia needed some sort of puzzle to express himself, you decided to play along

You were determined to wait until Idia became able to tell you outright how he felt

Maybe one day

That's what Idia also told himself as he stared at the sentence he kept typing and deleting over and over in your conversation

"you make my heart go wild"

Maybe one day...

『••✎••』

"And, because of General Zephyrus, royal green has become a color in Briar Valley that represents sentiments of love and affection for your beloved. It was historically used in clothing during duels by the partner that was not participating..."

You had no idea what you did to receive a special history lesson from Professor Zigvolt himself, but you loved Sebek so you listened to him attentively

It was one of the rare occasions in which he was not talking about Malleus, and it was almost cute to see how worked up he got for topics outside of his guard duty

Not like he wasn't always cute

"Are you even listening, human?!"

...You were not stupid enough to admit you kind of spaced out a little

"Yeah, you were talking about, uh... Something about green clothes?"

Sebek raised his eyebrow and watched you suspiciously, while you were trying not to avoid his piercing gaze and tell on yourself

"... Well, yes. It was a tradition for unmarried partners to express their love through green accessories, such as scarves and..."

Even if he seemed upset on the surface, Sebek was more than eager to share part of his culture with you

The way he'd get so animated about his homeland, his liege, his passions...

You could watch him all day

Unfortunately, the bell indicating the end of your break had the both of you part ways

Before Sebek walked away, he reminded you of the equestrian club's upcoming show jumping competition against Royal Sword Academy

And before he could shily request your presence, you told him you'll be there, and sent his blushy self back to his classes

You didn't want to just be there and attend, however: you wanted to show your appreciation for Sebek

And you remembered his little rant about green accessories as showcases of love in Briar Valley

Which brought you to Sam's the next day, where you bumped into Lilia

Lucky for you, since you couldn't remember which shade of green was the one Sebek was talking about...

Your eyes fell upon a light green scarf, resembling the trademark Diasomnia green, and asked Lilia if this color was good to wear

Lilia's eyes widened before his face twisted into a mischievous grin before he agreed with your choice

So you wrapped it around your wrist the day of the competition and made sure it was as easy to spot as possible

Sebek was warming up with his horse when he spotted you in the growing crowd...

...And you watched him as he almost fell off his horse when he saw the scarf wrapped around the hand you were waving at him with

You watched how he debated between going to you and resuming his warmup for what felt like an eternity, but the beginning of the competition was announced so he settled on talking to you later

On his first break, he marched right to you, red as a tomato and vaguely resembling a broken traffic light

"HUMAN! I can't believe you would do this in such a public setting without telling me first! In Briar Valley it's custom for the knight to wrap the scarf around their desired partner after the duel to signal their engagement! Was my lecture not clear enough?!"

You were used to Sebek getting randomly agitated about stuff but-

-Wait.

"ENGAGEMENT?!"

Sebek turned even redder, something you thought was impossible

"YES?! Light green is a sign of engagement!"

You head was full of questions upon questions

Did you just publicly more or less propose to Sebek?

And he was mad because you didn't tell him beforehand, not because of the accidentally proposal itself?!

Now you wanted a horse to fall off of

#twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #jamil viper #jamil viper x reader #rook hunt #rook hunt x reader #idia shroud #idia shroud x reader #sebek zigvolt #sebek zigvolt x reader

899 notes · View notes

comfortless · 4 months

Text

Deep Water

nix! König x fem! reader

content/warnings: 18+. minors do not interact. no.. intentional harm done to reader but there are sporadic mentions of murder (drowning), König is kind of a creep here do you guys forgive me (say yes), implied sex; dubcon everything. König is wearing a fishing net rather than the usual hood because. it made sense to me sorry.

notes: yet again, i have found that i can not manage to write anything except for silly fantasy nonsense… bear with me this will pass (it will not). if you’re uncertain of what a nix is, i recommend skimming over this (or tl;dr— a shapeshifting water spirit).

You’ve always been told to beware of the river, especially on nights like this. When the singing starts up you were to run, as far and as fast as your feet could carry you. It would be the most beautiful sound you had ever heard, as well as the last. Whatever beast lies in wait along the silt of the riverbed luring people in with its haunting song isn’t kind. The drowned bodies resurfacing bloated and paled are enough for the townsfolk to assume that assuredly, a monster lies in wait someplace within the glassy water.

For all of the fear, town myths were just that— myths.

As always, there’s no singing when you seat yourself on smooth, mossy stones by the river’s bank. The moon hangs low, casting its brilliant reflection on calm, dark water. The air is alive with the buzzing of cicadas clinging to the trees at your back and night birds calling out to the wind. Nothing is amiss; it’s only peaceful, and that’s why despite the warnings, you often find yourself here when the temperature is favorable.

There are nights when the river isn’t calm, and currents are the most reliable reasoning for the deaths from past summers. The water is full of large rocks with sharp corners, teeming with plants that could so easily snare an ankle, and when the water is frothing and cruel it’s no surprise that one could be thrashed to unconsciousness if they weren’t careful.

You didn’t come here to take your chances on swimming, anyhow.

If anything, it’s a mere reprieve from the bustle of the town. No one wanders here any more since the myths gained traction, passed from mouth to listening ears time and time again, leaving this place entirely untouched. Occasionally the obnoxious teenager would cross your path on the walk here, declaring loudly to their friends about how they supposedly saw some slimy beast, eyes like moonbeams and scales like razors lying on the bank.

During your little adventures here, you often carry a snack with you, but not for yourself. Tonight, it’s just a small package of vanilla flavored cookies. In truth, they were awful— dry and near flavorless, but you suspect your friend here wouldn’t mind too terribly much, and if it got them out of your pantry without wasting it was a win for the both of you.

When the large dorsal fin crests over the water mere meters from the bank, you gratuitously crush the treats in a closed fist and toss the crumbs into the water. Time and time again, you’ve fed the large animal, watching as it thrashes about just below the surface before disappearing back into its depths. You’ve never gotten a good look at it, either, but you imagine it must stretch out past your height or further; some sort of gar or sturgeon.

Just as many times before, it glides further in, fin entirely out of sight now. The only evidence of it ever appearing at all were the small waves rippling in its wake. All is quieted once more as you embrace the placid bliss, readying your small flashlight and losing yourself into the book perched in your lap.

The next night, you’re greeted by a large snake basking over the rock you typically sat upon. It lies still, coiled into itself as it regards you, forked tongue flicking out for several moments before it simply slithers off, hiding itself away beneath the moss and stone.

“Best to leave you alone, huh?,” you ask to it’s retreating tail, feeling a bit silly for speaking to the reptile at all. It doesn’t respond, of course, nor does it bother to come out of hiding either.

You opt to seat yourself on the hill overlooking the water instead.

You find that after a day occupied by tedious tasks, there truly was no greater place to abandon your woes than here. Everything was peaceful; wild yet simplistic. Even with all of the death that seemed to haunt this place, you never feared the thought of ghosts. You’ve even entertained your imagination a time or two, that if you ever did meet one, you would only ask it not to disturb the wildlife you have grown so fond.

There’s a freedom and a mystery to places like this, places without the foot traffic of other people. It brings with it a sense of whimsy, especially when you glance towards the water and see the surface reflecting every twinkling star above.

The fish doesn’t appear, even as you listen to the water in wait, your head tilted as you lie back on soft grass to watch for ripples, for the swell of a large fin moving beneath. Nothing. You read your book as the night progresses, nearly completing it entirely before you make your way back home.

Weeks pass by like this— work, river, home and repeat. Occasionally it’s the same large snake that greets you when you wander there, more often it’s the large fish circling about waiting for crumbs of whatever treat you choose to bring. The bank and the small hill overlooking it have become a separate home to you, one where you can be away with the fairies, talking to your animal friends that never seem to stick around for long.

When the weather grows warmer, you even dare to take a swim.

You’re stood on the slick stones of the bank, wearing nothing but a t-shirt and a pair of underwear. It’s not proper swimming attire, but you reason that you’re not at the beach, not a soul is around, and it doesn’t really matter at all that you might look a bit silly. The prospect of swimming along that behemoth below is a tad terrifying, but you wouldn’t dare to wander too far in. Maybe the fish would even be intelligent enough to not attempt to eat you after you’ve been so kind to it.

It’s hot, and with a sticky layer of sweat glossing your skin, your worries seem minuscule in light of an easy way of cooling off. You toe at the calm water for a moment, testing its temperature before willing yourself to take a step forward, then another before you seat yourself in the vibrant expanse of darkened blue. Here, you realize, is the best place to stargaze, too; they shimmer all around you, within reach as you tap at the surface of water, watching it undulate beneath the pressure of your fingertips.

You could reach the moon, too, if you swam further out. A few meters from the bank and you would be directly beneath its reflection, bathed in that ethereal glow.

You watch for your friend for a time, trying to prioritize your wariness over your whimsy. When the fish doesn’t tread by you, the water remaining calm, you rise to your feet and take slow, metered steps as the water parts and flows against your shins.

Though the river is disturbed no matter how gently you stride forward, nothing slides out from its depths in pursuit of you. Nothing happens at all when you reach out to splay your hand out against the reflection, the water now gently lapping against your stomach rather than your legs.

You hadn’t expected any sort of shift in your reality, that would be ridiculous, but perhaps some sort of clarity; a further calm for a weary mind. It doesn’t come, and with a disheartened splash you wade your way back towards the shore.

This has been your sanctuary for some time. Excusing the snake, there’s not been any sort of threat to you, not here. A safe water world all your own. Though, that peace is shattered the moment that you make it to the bank and hear the water shift some small distance behind you. Turning your head, you’re met with the sight of a man, the bulky muscular silhouette towering in the patch of moonlight you had just stood in. Bright blue eyes catch the light, reflecting like an animal’s as you scramble back to where you’ve left your shorts.

He stands there, silent and unmoving like an obelisk even as you hastily dress yourself with a thundering heart and breaths that sound more or less like gasps, senses heightened by your panic as you turn tail to run.

No one had been there. You were sure of it when you sunk into the water. There was no sound when this person had swam over to take your place. He was just there, as if he had been the entire time and you somehow failed to notice.

You make your way into the woods framing this place, hurried steps and untied shoelaces. You don’t even bother with your flashlight.

Finding your way back home with aches in every muscle, the desperate rampage you had taken to get away finally coming to a close when the door slams shut behind you, you quickly shower and mull over what’s just happened. A ghost, perhaps. It had to of been. Any other person would have made noise in their approach, especially being that big. The mind could play its tricks; what you had seen was likely not even there at all— a terrifying figment of your imagination. That sets you at ease, somewhat, but not enough.

You don’t sleep well that night, tucked beneath your blanket and staring at the filtered moonlight through your curtains. Work isn’t on your mind at all come morning until your phone chimes with a notification from your manager, questioning your tardiness. A languid crawl out of bed follows, another shower, an unsatisfying breakfast, all before you opt to send a text back to let him know you won’t be in today.

It could be excused, you’re reliable and decent enough at the job; not one to boast, but far more eager to please than the rest of your coworkers. You would be entirely useless if you went in on no sleep, you reason.

You don’t want to go back there, not under the veil of night, but you find yourself horribly curious the longer that you bide your time indoors. You had to know if the thing that you saw was really there, had to calm your nerves. What if he had always been watching each time, and you simply hadn’t noticed? The forest bordering the river is terribly dark at night, anyone could crouch behind the shield of a tree and remain undetected until they willed the courage to drag you in, cup a palm over your mouth to silence your cries.

Maybe it was the monster the people in town rumored about.

The thought of some strange, silent thing living beneath the water waiting for an opportune moment to take you by the neck and drag you down to the silty floor to watch you drown horrified you. Yet, that’s the one conclusion that sticks. Those eyes… so lurid and haunting, no human being had eyes like that.

You inhale sharply, steeling your nerves as reach for a pocket knife for defense, toss it into the bag slung over your shoulder, and storm out the door.

The trek there is nothing short of dull.

No matter where you look, what shadows rise up beneath the dim glow of a falling sun, there’s nothing out in the woods. The river is equally tame. The water babbles over rock, cicadas buzz off in the distance, and not a thing seems amiss. Your search for footprints that don’t belong to the soles of your shoes turns up empty. The only thing that suggests just maybe it wasn’t all in your head is the book you had neglected to retrieve in your fear the night before.

The cover, every page within, now warped as though it had been pulled into the water and spit out to dry. You pick it up, peeling through damp pages, running your fingertips over the smeared ink. It’s possible that a particularly aggressive splash could have sullied it, but something tells you that that isn’t the case. Either way, it’s unreadable now. You sulk a bit as you slip the ruined thing into your bag and step towards the smooth stones to watch the water instead.

Night creeps in slowly with you there, and you’re on high alert for a time before you begin to relax as usual. Even giggle to yourself at how silly it was you believed you saw a ghost at all as you entertain yourself by skipping small stones across the water.

No large snake, no massive fish, no titan of a man appears before you, only a calming crescent moon and a few wandering wood ducks, gliding down from the bank to splash about. A thought comes to mind as the calm emboldens you: what would happen if you got in just one more time?

There’s nothing to suggest that you’re playing with fire as you leave your shoes neatly in the dry sand. If the ducks could swim unbothered by fish or men, then surely you could, too. You watch the little creatures a distance away as they dip their heads beneath the surface and chitter away amongst themselves while you take your first step in.

You don’t dare to go as far this time, stopping when the water brushes over your knees. You wait there while time seems to slow to a crawl, expecting the absolute worst, glancing further down the river, dipping your hand below the glassy surface until your fingertips brush the sand beneath.

It’s horribly hot and you’re still exhausted from the sleepless night before. The water feels nice, and you feel as though you have some sort of claim to it as you’ve been here more often than anyone else would dare to. Ghosts and monsters be damned, you seat yourself and let the water lap over your shoulders, tilting your head back to watch the stars.

When the singing begins it takes a moment to register just what it is that you’re hearing. It’s not beautiful, not like the myths have said. It’s hissed, a low whisper, a mockery of what a human song would sound like. The voice is rasped, lilted yet cold. The realization that it sings words from your book of poetry is what terrifies you the most, the warped pages all making sense now.

Your eyes dart to either side of you, forward, before realizing the voice is coming from behind you. Cold spreads through your veins as you try to force yourself to stand, but in your fear you find yourself petrified, rooted in water that would surely become your grave.

You can’t bring yourself to turn around, to inevitably find your eyes locked onto the shadowy frame of a man far too large, his eyes glistening and pale like the moon hanging above.

The voice pauses when it finds you unmoving, and you can hear the rustle of the creature shifting its weight where it’s stood on the rocks lining the bank. You’ve no clue how deep the river gets, where the opposite side leads, but your only chance of escape seems to be swimming through in the hopes that this thing doesn’t choose to chase after you. A part of you knows that he would, that that is exactly what he expects you to do, goading you to flee deeper with his eerie song so that he can drown you just as he did the others.

You do the opposite as you squeeze your eyes shut and crawl back towards the bank, making sure to keep some distance despite your willful blindness. You wouldn’t look at it, wouldn’t talk to it, you would just go home and never come back.

“Best to leave you alone, hm?”

You still as your fingers brush against wet moss, the voice no longer a whisper but loud, loud as it echoes your words from days past just above you. Beating back your own curiosity proves futile, because you look up at the damned thing then, expecting to see an impossible terror before you, sharp fangs wet with blood and appendages too spindly reaching out for you. Instead, you see only a man.

He’s crouched, only a meter or so away, and you immediately recognize his broad figure. The same as the night before. From this distance you can make out the finer details, the length of net covering his face and neck, the webbing between each finger. Still a scary sight, but only in the way it’s unfamiliar and imposing rather than instilling any sort of primordial fear.

“Excuse me?” You pull yourself fully out of the water, rising to your feet and taking a tentative step back. You’re prepared to run, a coil pulled too tight on the verge of snapping.

The man, creature, whatever he may be just tilts his head, lets the silence hang in the air for a moment before he has the audacity to laugh whether to himself or at the strange, bewildered expression on your face.

His stare is assessing as he sucks in a breath, follows suit in rising to his full height. From the size of him alone, you know you’re not getting away. A mere stride for him would be two or more for you, a deliberate tug of your wrist from him could snap it in an instant.

Yet, he doesn’t reach for you, only gestures toward your bag lying on the ground with a subtle flick of a finger. You give him a quizzical glance in turn, not bothering to retrieve it. You could come back during the day with a friend, gather it and never return. Only, your knife sits somewhere inside, the only protection that you’ve got. The realization spurs you to bend over and toss the strap over your shoulder.

“I’ll… I’ll be going now.”

The stare remains fixed upon you as you take another step back, blinking slowly every now and then as you both remain in some strange stasis.

It takes you a moment to put the pieces together. The reciting of words from the book, the mimicking of the words spoken to the snake, the hint at your bag… he’s expecting something and it’s not to steal away your life, only to be fed and have your company. It’s not charming, it’s awfully strange and eerie, but you find yourself giggling at the prospect of taming some murderous, shapeshifting monster with subpar treats and poetry.

You pull open the bag, searching for anything you may have brought along that he could eat, eventually prying out a small package and offering it out to him.

“Is this what you want?,” you ask, voice hushed and trembling.

He shakes his head, rustling the net cloaking him in the process. So, he understands, he’s just been willfully ignoring every other thing you’ve said prior. You store the package away with a perturbed expression crossing over your face.

“Then what?”

Any relief you had felt seems to dwindle when the giant takes a half-step closer. His skin is cool and wet as the river as he brushes his hand over your forearm, curling a set of fingers around it. The touch is gentle, but there’s a promise of violence lurking somewhere in the depths of his eyes.

“Come with me,” he urges in that harsh whisper from before, delicately squeezing as he pulls you towards him, leading you back to the river with a tight grip and a step back over the stones. Though his touch is passive, there’s a frightening strength lurking someplace beneath his flesh, tacked to bone, and as your gaze trails lower to rest to rest at your feet, the space between you two, the evidence of a life prone to violence and strength is laid bare before you.

You don’t fight the hold as he leads you to water so deep it caresses the base of your neck, right below the milky glow of a waning moon. Deeper still, as you’re pulled below, pressed down to the very bottom with his body lain over you. You can only hold your breath so long before an involuntary gasp leaves you, and a wave is funneled straight into your lungs.

Panic is fleeting, but the adrenaline stays ever-present. You claw, push, kick, to no avail. Pinned down by a hand weighing like an anchor you feel your vision flooding and hazy as his head knocks against your jaw, mouth sealing tightly over yours. It’s not a gentle kiss, the net fashioned into a hood digs into your skin, teeth scrape over your lip until you feel the sting of blood drawn.

All at once, your vision darkens and it’s over.

You find yourself lying back on the shore as the morning sun warms your face, causes your dampened shirt to cling to your skin. Disoriented, but alive, brushing your thumb over your lower lip as you sit up to stare at the subtle waves lapping over moss and rock.

Just a dream, you tell yourself, knowing full well you hadn’t fallen asleep.

Just a dream, even though you avoid the river entirely now. Your route home from work changes too, avoiding even a glimpse of the path that leads down to that place. You don’t even replace the book, you toss what remains of it after fishing through your bag, murmuring something about it surely being cursed and entertain yourself with film at night instead.

Sleep remains tentative, you wake with every sound, and your dreaming is filled with visions of a figure pushing you down into deep water, his weight bearing down upon you so heavily that you can not move until you wake with a start, eyes searching your bedroom.

Several weeks, and the fear does eventually fade.

The morning that the rain begins to fall, you realize you haven’t even thought about the river in days. There’s no monster prowling your nightmares anymore. You lived through what may or may not have occurred, and that was the end of it, simple as it may have been.

A late shift at work has you wandering out into the rain, umbrella in hand. You’re grateful that you live close, that you’re not entirely soaked to the bone when you step inside of the mundane building. Your coworkers notice your change in demeanor immediately, chirping about how glad they are that you’re finally feeling better, looking more yourself as the hours pass you by. It brings a smile to your face, a real one that you haven’t had in place since that last night.

Even in the summer, there’s a chill to the air in the late afternoon as you hurry home from work and make your way inside, stripping out of your wet clothes and setting your umbrella aside. It’s darker outside than it should be, even more so indoors. Reaching for the switch to turn on the lights proves useless— the power’s out.

You light your way with your phone, ignoring the way your pulse quickens and your heart flutters with the fear that something just doesn’t feel right. Your skin prickles with the thought of some unseen pair of eyes watching you, blue and cold. You only relax when you slam your bedroom door shut, locking it and pressing your forehead to the wood as you sigh. The puff of breath that escapes your lips is not the only in the room, you find out when the light of your phone illuminated your bed. Crouched beside it, a towering figure with a face veiled by fishing net. Words don’t come when you open your mouth to speak, and your heart stutters in your chest as you stand shaking but otherwise petrified.

“You didn’t come back.”

Of course you hadn’t.

Most people wouldn’t have.

“No. I’ve been… busy,” you choke out the excuse, hoping to pacify whatever emotion you imagine lurked beneath his tone, undetectable through the hiss of his voice. “I’ll visit soon, promise,” you lie, back pressed against the door as your fingers curl over the knob.

Your fear seems almost unwarranted. He doesn’t move toward you, only stands to wander back to the window where he must have broken in.

“Tonight?,” he asks in a voice so soft, the voice he must use as a lure because tugs at your heartstrings immediately, makes you want to follow despite the threat this thing poses merely by existing, despite everything.

“It’s cold— I’ll get sick,” you murmur. “How did you even find me..?”

“I will keep you warm.” The question goes unanswered.

You find yourself stifled again as he lumbers towards you, brushing cold fingers across the side of your face. It’s not a mockery of a kiss you receive next but a firm bite where your neck meets shoulder, not yet hard enough to draw blood, but enough to make you shiver, to grip at the wall of muscle that makes up his chest.

There’s a desperation to his movements as he herds you towards the window, pushes you toward the path leading back to the river. You’re soaked to the bone in seconds, hardly able to keep your eyes open past the weight of dampened eyelashes. The rain is so heavy it feels as though every step is like the first you took into cursed water, your feet sinking into the mud along the path with each tentative stride. The realization that you’re there doesn’t even hit you until you’re chest-deep in the chill, violent waves pushing against you, each carrying the threat of toppling you over entirely.

The palm splayed out against your bare back keeps you upright, leading you to a smooth rock jutting out in the midst of what seems a sea of frothing white and blue. The sea above is just as dark, angry clouds roaring as you’re pressed down onto your back, shivering terribly.

He keeps his promise though, a tight grip on each thigh as he pries your legs apart, sinks in between them and blankets you from the rain. Even with the cold pressed to your back, you feel the warmth of a summer sun above you, scorching from inside, just as blazing as the look in his wild eyes. The last of any resolve slips when you’re pulled beneath the violent waves, a tangle of limbs and desperate kisses coaxing oxygen into your lungs. Each roll and pull no less tumultuous than the waves overhead. A placid end when the rain comes to an impromptu halt, just as he stills over you. Hands rush to cup your face with one final, desperate and biting kiss.

When the morning sun pulls you from sleep, cool moss against your back and the weight of his head resting over your middle, the shallow water lapping lazily at your figure, you find that you no longer fear drowning.

#könig x reader #konig x reader #könig x you #konig x you #könig #konig #cod fanfiction #cod fanfic #konig fanfiction #i have been mulling over this for an eternity sorry it needed to be extracted from my brain #he is absolutely more lycanthrope coded to me but whoosh whatever nix König be upon ye #also apologies to everyone for not writing much lately and the fact this is hardly a real fic #cursed by the sleepy i just need a 10yr long nap #<- in my ‘in denial about burnout’ era

566 notes · View notes

shuttlecarrier · 10 months

Text

some concepts that have been plinking around in my mind.. assortment of some handmade toys from the geoling homeplanet and a child begging their older sibling to let them play with their collection of Annu. optional loredump info about this stuff under the cut ->

since geoling kids take a long time to grow up (they're considered an adult at 22-25 years old), they need a lot of attention and activity during that time period. they would be hell for a human to raise but visually very cute, they're babies that come up to you and babble meaninglessly one moment and then trying to bite and nip at you the next.

they are still quite small at this young age though, so one of the main toys they're given is Kcheha variants. they're stuffed animals constructed from fabric, furs, animal glue, clay (or bone), thread, and nontoxic paints- and come as either an upright plush or something large and floppy.

the more upright kind are more for playing with and being dragged around. they're made durable enough to withstand being chewed on by a child, since babies like to investigate and play with things with their mouth where a large portion of their sensory organs (those whiskers they have especially!) are located near. the floppier kcheha variant are larger usually weighted with fine sand or beads. these are softer and made for sleeping with. normally geolings sleep in large piles containing several members of their familial group, but young children are at risk of being injured by an adult rolling on top of them in this situation, so kids either sleep in their own pile nearby or are kept by themselves in a comfy mountain of floppy toys that simulates typical sleeping circumstances. upright kcheha are typically fashioned after bugs, fish, or other animals and floppy kcheha are often made to resemble geolings. the one in the image was designed to look like one of Wyu'hlkee's remaining island giants, a relatively peaceful animal that digs for tubers, shellfish, and large grubs.

eventually when kids reach their teens and lose their baby stripes or just when they get big enough, they get Annu toys. these are filled with sand and constructed with several layers of a plant derived burlap-like fabrics and a twine made from similar stuff, and come in natural shades of light red to deep purple. they are easy to make and survive wear and tear easily, which is good considering how high energy and more aggressive teenagers are. grabbing a sand filled toy and smacking it against walls (fun and satisfying) or trying to hit a sibling or cousin with it as hard as possible is extremely common (and so is the related: hitting your cousin so hard with a toy they start wailing and you beg them not to tell on you).

however since almost all annu are sand based they have some consequences if torn apart or broken. for geolings, sand has some particular spiritual significance in several of their cultures, and there are superstitions or beliefs that when you fill a toy with sand it invites passed on creatures to live in the constructed body. if you destroy it and the sand falls out you're expected to apologize for it and fix it. they are expected to get damaged though and it's good for teaching repair skills and restraint. most of these toys have the marks of being patched up from years of being thrown around and accidentally shredded. most annu are like big sand filled socks. fashioning them into the form of snake and worm creatures is pretty common. the ones depicted here have the popular look of the geolings 'sea dragons' which are giant worm-eel things that live in the oceans. dragons have been and remain as a very cool thing.

lastly for these Glass Based figurines are usually only for special occasions and given as gifts on holidays. those living on the islands and coasts make elaborate displays with them and enjoy collecting them. they're not great toys if they're more elaborate but smaller more blob looking ones are good for playing certain games with.

they have other more complex types of toys but I only drew a few for this because artfight is coming up and time to draw personal stuff is little. o7

#my art #fullview for best looking experience btw since tumblr crop destroyed this #geolings #spec bio #speculative biology #new post of these guys. the ones here are from one of the coastal areas #their baby stripes solidify into thicker darker stripes as adults instead of being lost #also hi sorry to let down everyone who thought they were dragons #they are just guys that I made up. but they are kinda dragon like

969 notes · View notes

naffeclipse · 3 months

Note

What if Eclipse from AP was a naga? And this took place in the deep jungle of the amazon, where photographer y/n is trying to take pictures of the wildlife?

I'm vibrating at the speed of sound over this ask while also nudging my naga au

Naga Eclipse from AP would have the tail of a Green Anaconda, with an olive green scaly color dotted with black, framed by burning-like flares of orange along the length of his slithery body. He's also decorated with orange-yellow striping on either side of his long, slipper form. His upper half is scaley with a lithe deadliness to his musculature and decorated by frills surrounding his head with brighter orange-yellow colors, almost hypnotic in their gradient hues. One eye is deep emerald green, and one is midnight blue.

Lucky you—you're out on a once-in-a-lifetime expedition to explore a jungle closed off to the public, funded by Fazco, and occupied by two researchers who will be your bunkmates for the next few weeks. You're itching to take photos of the large river, including swamps, marshes and streams, and whatever wildlife is out there.

The few locals you did meet before you left to hike the rest of the way to what would be your new, isolated home warned you of a dangerous snake—a large, mythical beast. You take note of the local folklore. You understand the truth is hidden in there somewhere, and you are well aware of the dangers and diseases you could be met with in such a harsh environment, but you're determined.

It doesn't take long for you to feel eyes watching you when you first venture out by yourself. You take beautiful pictures of freshwater fish, big and beautiful, unlike any you have ever seen. Of course, you have hundreds of snapshots of the local flora, the trees, the floating meadows, the thick vines that drape each branch and hang thickly about the ground. You almost forget that you eerily don't feel alone.

But you swear something moves in the water—the ripples stop as soon as you look. The stillness is suddenly stiff, lifeless. Even the birds have stopped chirping.

You lower your camera and carefully put it away. A trickle of fear slips into your heart. You turn away from the river's edge only to be met by a low hiss and a creature, unlike anything you witnessed in your travels, spooling itself neatly out of the water, blocking your path to the base. An incredible creature with long arms and a great, serpentine tail that seems to stretch for yards and yards. You can hardly breathe in his presence—he's otherworldly with his frills and scales and fangs.

His eyes contain a mesmerizing shine as if staring into a fire as it burns or watching the ocean as it laps up against the beach, drawing your attention, demanding you don't look away. You couldn't anyway. Half-frozen, you struggle to keep from collapsing. He beckons with a sharp talon. He hisses softly for you to come closer, mouse. He wants to see you. You try to beg no without revealing how terribly you tremble. He doesn't let you go. He insists. His eyes flash with an allure. You almost step close when he murmurs that you need to be good.

But then your sense of survival kicks adrenaline into your heart, and you turn to run—

He strikes faster than your eyes can follow. Two loops of his green and orange tail surrounded you in an instant. You're dragged to the ground, your arms pinned under his mass, and the back of your head cradled by his large palm as powerful muscles squeeze you in the slightest—a gentle rebuke for thinking you could get away. You're hyper-aware of the terrifying bulk of muscles as you lie trapped in his coils. One strong twist and your eyes could pop out of your skull, and every bone protecting your heart and lungs would crumble to shards. You gasp. An urge to kick your legs and struggle erupts in your panic; a sinking feeling tells you it would only make things worse.

He coos over you, hissing and humming in an ancient song of the jungle you have no name for. When you whimper, he shushes you and strokes your cheek. He tells you how lovely you'll be. When you talk back to him, somehow finding your tongue amid your horror, you find out his name. Eclipse. He moves you more upright, resting you on his tail so you're not petrified by how vulnerable you feel lying down, but he never loosens his scaly bindings. He hovers over you. You gaze into his stunning frills of yellow-orange and wonder how a being like him came to exist. He studies you as you study him. He grins at how you shiver when he traces your collarbone with a sharp fingertip.

You remind yourself that you can still breathe. He hasn't crushed you—yet—but you don't like how wide his smile is. Sometimes, his jaw stretches a little too long as if dislocating from his skull, ready to devour you. His eyes gleam with a ravenousness as scales twist around you, holding you close enough to smell the slick green water he had been in and deep musk.

He tells you that he'll see you again very soon—away from other humans, lest you bring him a fine gift for a meal. You can only flex your fingers, silently pleading in your heart that he won't unhook his jaw and eat you alive.

Then, he unravels himself from your limbs. But before he lets you go entirely, he leans in close, his serpentine tongue flickering close to your neck and by your hair, tasting the air around you as you muster all your strength to not scream. He inhales deeply, pleased, before he murmurs, "Sweet mouse. You are mine. Say it."

You don't understand, but you echo his command, and when he taps your chin once in what might have been a loving gesture, you force your jelly legs to solidify before you run and run, all the way back to base. You slam the door to your room behind you. You touch your ribs, your arms, still caught in the heavy sensation of his loops as if he were upon you right now.

The stories are true—there is a giant snake in this jungle, and he wants you. You're afraid to discover if Eclipse's intrigue with you is only an exotic way to satisfy his hunger.

#i'm not normal about nagas #this is great because in the naga au with sun and moon #eclipse isn't a naga so this gives me my fix of naga eclipse #just augh #love these monsters #anyways he's gonna squeeze you and love you and you are just so lucky he finds you adorable he could just eat you up (not really but ya kno #he has plans for lovely little you #he's going to show you so many cool creatures like pink river dolphins and big big BIG floating meadows and the best brightest birds!#he's also gonna try to get you to eat vermits and promise that he'll protect you when you get sluggish after eating #and you have to explain that your metabolism is very different from his but then you get to see him sluggish and sleepy after he eats #(whoops that means extra long cuddles for you and boy does he like to take long naps and wrap you up tight so you don't go anywhere)#apex polarity #<<< just tagging for the same characterization of Orclipse and photographer y/n #but i am calling this:#blackwater lure #naga!eclipse #photographer!reader #naff writing #the serpent den

327 notes · View notes

hulhudhonado · 6 months

Note

your work is fucking amazing.

hey! hi, hello, how are you? :)

may i request wanderer, (scara, whatever his goofy ahh name is rn), alhaitham, ajax and kaeya reacting to reader, who’s usually not a fan of physical affection, coming up to them and snaking an arm around their waists while resting their head into their neck?

thank you!! 🩷

CW: swearing in wanderer's part because I believe he would say fuck

HC: Reader is gender-neutral, Reader does not have a vision.

Characters: Wanderer, Al Haitham, Ajax (Childe), Kaeya [Seperately]

Note: Thank you so much! I apologise for the late upload as I am currently studying. I got some time for myself so here you go. I hope I do this justice. Please make sure to interact with the post and enjoy it!

Al Haitham

Al Haitham tends to be prepared for whatever is to come, however, the sudden feeling of an arm around his waist was not something he thought he would ever need to prepare for.

Kaveh was finally out of the house, preferably looking for a job rather than complaining about everything Al Haitham did. This also gave Al Haitham the luxury of inviting you over without Kaveh taking your full attention. He wouldn’t say he was jealous, but Kaveh knew how to take care of company far better than he could. It was the one thing that left a sour taste in Al Haitham’s mouth, but he would never let Kaveh know about that.

You both were enjoying the quiet atmosphere of the room, nose shoved in books and lounging in your chairs. It was clear you both had chemistry which didn’t need to involve spoken words or gestures, Al Haitham liked your quiet company and you enjoyed his.

It didn’t take long but he finished his book, a little too fast it seemed because he could still see you weren’t done with yours. Not wanting to bother your reading, he closed the book and stood up to get another one. As he tried to quietly navigate the bookshelf, he didn’t realise your eyes slowly lifting off the pages to look at him.

Al Haitham, back turned, looked through the shelf thoroughly. It was clear he had pretty much read everything else on the shelf. He either had to reread another book or go out to find another one. Didn’t seem like a bad date idea to take you out book shopping with him. However before he could reach a decision, you began your attack.

An arm reached around his waist, followed by a gentle head on his shoulder. Al Haitham tried his best not to flinch but the shock of such an unexpected gesture made him shudder a bit. He turned to look down at you, who had slyly made their way to him without him realizing. You had a gentle smile on your face, happy to catch him off guard.

You both were typically not physical. It wasn’t something Al Haitham was against but it was pretty clear to him that you were not someone who indulged in that sort of affection. So seeing you make the first step was not something Al Haitham had prepared for. He looked back at the bookshelf.

“What are you looking for?” You perked up, trying to stifle a laugh. You knew what you did and you were fishing for a reaction from him. “ A book.” He answered, almost robotically.

“Hmm… I’m certain you read everything on this shelf” You could see the corner of his mouth twitch. It was small but he was reacting, you could feel your ego getting bigger. “Yes, you’re right.” Was all he could muster.

It never occurred to Al Haitham that he would enjoy such proximity to another human being. He tended to avoid any type of physical touch from most people. However, the way you held him just made him feel so warm, especially knowing you would never typically do something like this. He knew he would never recover from this, only wanting more in the future.

“Do you want to go out and get some new books then?” You ask, your head nuzzling closer to his neck. “That would be preferable.” He answered. You let out a chuckle, arm slipping off from him. But before you could pull yourself away, Al Haitham reached out his arm, forcing you to stay in your place, both of you now wrapped in each other’s embrace.

You let out a laugh. “Enjoying this much?” “Can’t say I don’t. “ His response only made you laugh more. “ Well it’s up to you, we could go get new books, or, we could just stay like this. What do you say?” Before Al Haitham could respond, a creek from the door could be heard.

“I’M BACK, OMG YOU WOULDN’T BELIEVE THE THINGS I HAD TO DEAL WITH- Oh you have company.” Kaveh burst in, welcoming you the minute he saw you. Luckily for Al Haitham both of your reflexes were fast enough to pull away before he had seen you guys so close to one another.

Standing in front of the bookshelf, barely an inch apart, you both stood trying to seem as normal as possible. Al Haitham couldn’t believe he was getting embarrassed by almost getting caught by his roommate.

Al Haitham wasn’t prepared for what had happened today but he knew you planned to do more of this in the future. Hopefully, he would be prepared for the next time you did attack, and maybe he should find ways to kick Kaveh out for longer. He definitely did not want Kaveh to walk into whatever you both had planned for the future.

Childe (Ajax)

The closest that Childe has ever been able to touch you was probably during your friendly spars. You loved your distance and tended to keep a lot between the two of you. Even though you both had been together for quite a while it seemed you were not the type to get touchy with others. So Childe himself was amused when you decided to wrap an arm around his waist.

“What’s the occasion?” He asked, trying his best to focus on what was written in front of him. It was like you had calculated it. For once he was at the bank properly reading documents at his office when you decided to pop by. Now here you were slithered next to him, wrapped around him with your head on his shoulder.

He tried not to react, but he honestly wanted to throw away whatever he was reading just to return the favour. It was bold of you to do something like this so suddenly at such a random time. You never came by when he was working, even though he insisted. Paperwork was not fun for him but you were a rule-abiding citizen when you weren’t on a battlefield. He just had to know what was going through your mind for you to do this.

“No particular reason. Just felt like it.” You answered, nonchalantly. Your tone was dull and meek, escaping your throat like a whisper. Your usual fighting spirit was not there and he could sense it the minute you spoke. He finally looked at you and it was clear as day that you were not feeling well. Your hair was dishevelled and your eyebags were very noticeable.

Every single scenario flooded his mind. Was it because of work? Was someone rude to you? What happened to the person who would maniacally laugh whenever they got a scratch on him? He wanted to bombard you with questions but he stopped himself. Maybe it was because he was using his brain at this very moment rather than his instinct to fight, but he knew asking questions was not going to make you feel any better. So he reacted instead.

Shifting the documents to one of his hands, he let the other one wrap around you, engulfing into his side, closing any gaps between the two of you. You only responded by letting him do so, completely enveloping yourself in his arms and him in yours.

“Are you sure nothing’s wrong?”He asked, giving you one more chance to answer if you wanted to. “I’m alright. Just let me stay like this for a while.” Even if he was disappointed by your response he wouldn’t show it. Instead, he responded with a hum, not prodding you with any more questions and letting you enjoy the warmth he could provide with the embrace.

So you both stayed together, wrapped in each other's arms while he worked. It didn’t take long for you to fall asleep but that didn’t stop Childe from keeping you by his side. Even in your sleep, your arm refused to let his waist go which did make him chuckle, maybe he could tease about this when you were feeling better.

Honestly, he expected the first time you held him like this to be in a more romantic setting but he was not going to complain about what he was getting. It was already a big step that you decided to come to his side for comfort. Your usual method of letting go of bad feelings was always sparing so it was a nice change of pace.

Maybe next time you do feel bad and need his comfort he will be able to get some words out of you. For now, he’s going to let you do whatever you want, even if it means catching him off guard with an arm around his waist.

Kaeya Alberich

“Cheers for a happy 6 months!” Kaeya chuckled. You both clinked your glasses, giggling tipsy from the alcohol. You both had been dating for half a year now, which was unbelievable in Kaeya’s mind. Kaeya always had a one-sided crush on you ever since you both had done academy training together. Who knew you felt the same? And now here you both were, celebrating together.

Kaeya could see Diluc roll his eyes yet he didn’t care. He knew it was considered cheesy to celebrate every month of a relationship, but you were the type to enjoy such things so he couldn’t say no. He began to love these silly celebrations with you, it felt special.

“You guys do know this isn’t the most romantic place to celebrate right?” Diluc piped up, as he organized the wine shelf behind him. Kaeya stuck out a playful tongue at him before taking a sip, which only made your tipsy self giggle some more.

“Yeah yeah, but it’s the place where we first confessed! It has special memories, you should be glad your tavern can create such happy moments.” You say, words a bit slurred but still understandable.

As you spoke you could hear the other tavern people cheer, which only made you cheer along. Kaeya could only stare at how stunning you looked at this moment. He still couldn’t wrap his head around the fact he was dating such a wonderful individual.

Diluc sighed, preparing you both another glass. He slid the glasses over. “Here then, for a successful 6 months.” He mumbled, rolling his eyes as you and Kaeya once again cheered.

Kaeya took the glass without hesitation, ready to down it in an instant, but he wasn’t prepared for what you had planned. An arm wrapped around his waist, pulling him and his chair closer to you. Kaeya had already begun to drink but the sudden action caused him to choke on it.

He coughed so much, that the drink spit out of his mouth. Diluc looked in disgust while you only could worry. “Are you alright?” You ask concerned, but Kaeya couldn’t hear anything. It was unbelievable, you had wrapped your arm around his waist! You both have never been this close before!

You tended to always stay in your own space and Kaeya wasn’t going to push it, especially since you guys were still freshly dating in his mind. He wasn’t going to risk ruining a relationship he dreamt of for years. Maybe it was the alcohol but it seemed that you had the confidence to pull such a sneaky trick.

“I’m fine i’m fine. It went down the wrong pipe for a second.” He tried to laugh it off, wheezing between sentences. He hoped you didn’t notice his panic, he didn’t want you taking your arms off him anytime soon. You smiled at himy placing your head on his shoulders which only made his head spin more.

Diluc looked at Kaeya in amusement. He got front-row seats to see his brother who was typically cocky completely speechless. Kaeya looked as a devilish smile crept up on Diluc’s face. “You know, it really is such a special day. Here, more drinks. On the house.” He slid you both more drinks. Kaeya could only stare in disbelief as you continued to chug them down like nothing.

“You’re being kind today Diluc! Thank you!” You gleefully exclaimed, setting the glass down and wrapping another arm around Kaeya. Your head that was on his neck pushed closer, and Kaeya could feel your hot breath on his neck, which only made him feel hotter.

The alcohol wasn’t helping, he could feel the dizziness get more intense as you pushed yourself closer to him. He was certain you were going to melt and mould him into slime with all the heat he was accumulating.

He could see Diluc prepare another drink, a sly smile still on his face. If this was how you acted tipsy he wasn’t ready to face you when you were a complete drunk. He stood up from the chair, pushing the glasses away from you which only rewarded him with a whine.

“we had enough for tonight. I’ll take you home.” You pouted but mumbled an OK, standing up yourself. However, you refused to let go of his waist, forcing him to stay close to you at all times. He tried to control his shyness but it was hard when you were so close.

“Hope you both enjoy the rest of your anniversary!” Diluc called out, a smile on his face as Kaeya glared, guiding you out of the tavern. He hoped the next time you decided to pull a stunt like this, you both weren’t as drunk anymore.

He also planned on never having anniversary celebrations at the Angel Share ever again. Or at least not on Diluc’s shift. He wasn’t ready for what other PDA you had in store, knowing Diluc would fan the flames to embarrass him. Maybe next time you guys can go drinking at each other’s houses instead. You’ll have to see on your seventh anniversary.

Wanderer

“What the fuck?” That was the first words that came out of his mouth when you decided to wrap an arm around his waist, placing your head on his shoulder.

“Shut up I’m trying to rest here.” You mumble, closing your eyes, enjoying the icy sensation from his porcelain-like skin. The Sumeru desert was hot, unbearably hot. You didn’t want to come here but when you’re working in the Akademiya you didn’t have a choice in what you had to do to progress your research.

Lucky for you, you were accompanied by a walking ice pack. It was a shame his attitude wasn’t as cool as he was.

“No, I won’t, get off me.” He hissed, trying to push you off himself. You just rolled your eyes, gripping him a bit tighter. You knew he could easily toss you aside if he wanted to get you off. He had a vision that allowed him to blow you away in an instant, so him being so meek was an act.

“Yeah yeah, good luck with getting me off, i’m quite persistent.” You continue to mumble, pushing your head into the crevice of his neck. Wanderer had a very peculiar scent. A mixture of grass and freshly picked kalpalata lotus. It was such an odd smell but you honestly have got a bit addicted to it. It also helped his frosty exterior enhance it. Either way, the smell felt clean and cool, a refreshing scent during such hot weather.

You could hear him scoff, the sound ringing in your ears a bit since you were so close. You were close enough if you just turned your head you could peck him on the lips, you would have done so if you weren’t so tuckered out.

“Whatever, I’ll let you off this time. I won’t let you pull this shit next time.” You could only chuckle. This wasn’t the first time he tried to threaten you. To be honest he seemed to dull down a lot more compared to everything that happened before. You both weren't usually touchy, actually, you were not touchy at all, so whenever when you do shit like this it always ticked him off. You were honestly surprised he hadn’t gone into a swearing fit like when you first held his hand. It was almost as if he was slowly getting used to your touch, which you didn’t mind.

However today you were just out of it, too tired to mess around with him or worry about touch. The shade of the cave you both sat under accompanied by his cool refreshing self attached to your side made you drowsy. You could feel your brain finally go into shut-down mode.

“Hey, don’t you dare go to sleep… ” You would think he was trying to stop you from falling asleep but his intentions were clear when you could hear how softly he whispered those words to you. You could feel his arm, which was nowhere to be seen until now, finally, wrap around you from the side.

“If you fall asleep I’m going to leave you here to fend for yourself…” He continued to whisper. It almost sounded like a lullaby but you knew the sun would be rising from the west if that was the case. “Yeah yeah, at least bury me in the sand before you do.” That was the final words you said before you finally got knocked out.

- - -

To no one’s surprise when you did wake up, he was still at your side. Both of you were unmoved from the original position from when you had fallen asleep. The only difference was that the sun had set and the stars littered the sky.

“Good morning to you.” He grumbled which you answered with a yawn. “ What happened to leaving me alone to fend for myself?” You asked, trying to let go but as he remained unmoved you could not.

You huffed, trying to push him off but he finally decided to use his given strength to make sure you couldn’t. He didn’t turn to look at you, instead focused on the sky. You sighed, giving up and following his gaze up to the sky. Was the sky always full of that many stars?

“I changed my mind.”

#genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x gender neutral reader #al haitam x reader #genshin fluff #wanderer x gender neutral reader #wanderer x reader #al haitham x gender neutral reader #kaeya alberich x reader #kaeya x gender neutral reader #kaeya x reader #childe x reader #ajax x reader #tartaglia x reader

416 notes · View notes

sunshine-and-moonshine · 25 days

Text

Soulmate Aus

Requested: No

Warnings: Discrimination based on tattoos and brief description of kidnapping

Ghost - His scars as tattoos

Twisted and burned flesh blooming into roses along your chest, deep cuts and gaping holes turned into pitch black stars that shone on your skin, drawing all sorts of attention that you hated to have on you. The whispers that follow after in your shadow leave you nauseous and uneasy. Marks, given to you by your soulmate. Barbed wire in a slash across your throat, stitch like markings on either side of your mouth like a permanent smile, thorny vines and skulls and knives littered throughout your body. That wasn’t even speaking to what might be on your back, too afraid to ask anyone or try and even maneuver to see it in a mirror.

Making friends was hard, making money even harder. They said you scared people, that you looked unprofessional. But you managed, you got by. Found work in the back of a butcher shop, so far removed from the customer service section that no one would ever even catch a glimpse of you. Straight to work then straight home, maybe a chat or two with one of your gruffer co-workers, those just as covered in tattoos as you were. Those who got it, who understood you in a way no one else seemed to.

It was in one of those conversations that you got invited out for drinks, something you regretted accepting as soon as the words had left your mouth. But it was too late, your friends already abuzz with excitement at you joining them. Assuring your that this joint was filled with people like yourself.

And they didn’t lie. Every glance you took of the place revealed someone who appeared to be in a similar state to yourself. A man with a black dagger going over his eye, little blood droplets making a trail like tears down to his chin. A woman with snakes peaking all around her hairline, their tails curving along her jaw and intertwining on her chin and down her neck. Most you couldn’t make out except for giant globs of black ink painting their face. It was reassuring, putting you at real ease for the first time in a long time. Relaxed enough to have a drink, then another, then another, laughing along with some corny joke the bartender was telling when a big man sat beside you, some surgical mask over the lower half of his face, the hood of his jacket over the upper half. But it revealed just enough for you to make eye contact with him when he glanced your way, feeling the world shift beneath you and crumble away.

Soap - Colorblind until you touch your soulmate

Shades of grey. White and black, sometimes you think you might be seeing colors, something just a hint different then the usual monochrome of your existence but you turn your head….and it’s nothing, just more of the same. It was fine when you were younger, when everyone your age saw things the same way. When you were, in this sense, just like everyone else. But things changed, you got older. Your classmates changed, met their people. People who became friends, family, lovers. Their closest confidants. Their soulmates.

And you were left behind, drifting further and further from the people who you, at one point, might have called your friends. Unable to escape their giggles and whispers of seeing color, the wonder in their voice when they described how vibrant everything seemed, that shift in their eyes. And then afterwards, getting to know the person that held that other half of their soul, it was almost as emotional for them all. But you, you were left without that.

For a time you could convince yourself that it could still happen, that you could find that person, that you would be able to see what your peers did. Eventually.

But time moved, it changed, and your vision stayed the same. Unable to witness the beautiful colors of the flowers that line your driveway, the shimmering scales of fish in the pet shop, the color of a soulmate’s eyes.

You gave up after a few years after secondary school. Defeated and broken down, chipped away at by your school mate’s whispers about how you still hadn’t met your soulmate, the only one in your grade that hadn’t. You convinced yourself that you didn’t have a soulmate. That you were just one soul, not intertwined with anyone.

Or maybe they were dead.

That was the thought that haunted you, no matter how much you tried to tell yourself that it was just you. That you were different. Or that maybe you just hadn’t met them yet. It would keep you up at night, nightmares of a faceless person reaching out to you, only to fall short, darkness swallowing them whole, drifting farther and farther away no matter how much you ran after it. Always just out of reach.

It was one of those nights when you decided to take a walk, shaking hands shoved into your coat pockets and neck slick with sweat, just wandering aimlessly when you bumped shoulders with some guy you hadn’t even seen til last second.

“Ey, watch where you’re-” He started, only to stop, anger leaking into worry. “Oi, you okay?”

“Piss off-” You snapped in return, whipping around to face the man, only to freeze, eyes locked onto his, both of your pupils’ widening, visions shifting. “What….what fucking color is that?” You whisper when the grey of his irises shifted to something vibrant, bordering on overwhelming.

“Been told that they’re something called blue.” He breathed.

Gaz - His name on your wrist

Gaz.

The name written on your wrist, messy chicken scratch that resembled scribbles more than actual writing. It was confused for dozens upon dozens of other names growing up, but this one. Gaz. It resounded in your skull in a way none of the other nicer or more normal sounding ones did. It rolled off your tongue, appeared in your dreams, a whisper in your ear that just wouldn’t fade away.

Gaz.

For someone with such an unusual name, he was certainly hard to find. Everywhere you went, everywhere your friends and family went, they asked if they ever heard of anybody named Gaz, only to come up with zilch. Nada. Nothing. A needle in a haystack but it seemed the needle grew legs and ran away, or maybe even just got dropped into a wormhole somewhere. It was an unhealthy and depressing thought but it was what came to mind when you became overwhelmed with it, consumed by thoughts of an elusive soulmate that you might not be finding just because you keep getting stuck on what you think his name is instead of any of the other possibilities that it could be. It was days like this that you wanted to find your soulmate just to strangle them for their shitty handwriting that would brand you for your entire life. Written on your flesh in a deep black.

Gaz.

It was during one of these times where one of your friends asked to set you up on a blind date. A cousin of theirs, good looking they’d said. Sweet guy in the military, on break for now. If nothing else, he’d make for a good shag to take your mind off of the whole soulmate ideal. It was with great reluctance that you accepted, dressed in a semi formal/semi casual outfit for a date at a place that was a few steps above a Maccy’s but nothing michelin star worthy. Not too formal, not too casual.

And the guy was nice, introducing himself as Kyle. Shook your hand and pulled out your chair for you, letting you set the pace for the date. Made you laugh, his eyes sparkling at every chuckle you couldn’t contain. He seemed too good to be true, and you agreed to a second date despite the name inked onto your wrist.

A second date led to a third led to movie nights led to slow kisses under the sheets led to moving in together led to meeting his friends, his brothers in arms. Where, for the first time, you heard them shout his callsign.

Gaz.

Hearing it from someone else was sweeter than any of the times you’d whisper it to yourself at night.

Alejandro - The first words he says to you written on your wrist

“Now what’s a beautiful thing like you doing here all alone?”

Possibly the blandest soulmate question anyone could ever have written on their arm, looping cursive that was on the edge of appearing just a little hard to leave. The question itself may be awfully common but the handwriting was not. It was something you liked about your soulmate, tracing the letter with your thumb over and over and over until you were sure you could perfectly write out every elegant letter with your eyes closed.

It was what you were doing now, scared and curled up into a ball after being kidnapped by some drug lord or other. No matter how much you tried to plead that they had the wrong person, that you didn’t even know who they were, it didn’t matter. They snatched you up all the same, tossing you in this grimy cell and leaving you on your lonesome. You were scared, terrified. You wondered if you’d die before you even had the chance to meet your soulmate, all because they nabbed the wrong person.

It felt like weeks, but surely must have only been days, before you saw another person again, hazy, on the brink of a sleep you weren’t sure you were going to wake up from. Your eyes were heavy, so much so that they almost didn’t have the power to open again when the door slammed open, the rushing of feet following, the whoosh of fabric as someone knelt beside you and pressed their fingers to your throat, checking for your pulse.

“Now what’s a beautiful thing like you doing here all alone?” A voice whispered, an arm curving under your knees and another cradling the back of your head, a warm body pressing against you, offering you the first real source of comfort you’d had since you were taken.

“I think I’m dying of thirst.” You mumble, voice a shaky slur. So out of it that you didn’t feel the man pause for a moment before gripping you tighter.

“Probably, Amor.” He says, voice more strained now. There were more sounds now, more stomping and heavy doors slamming. It was hurting your head. “But we’ll fix you right up. Get something for you to drink.” He says, his voice fading for a moment before he said “I’m Alejandro, by the way.”

You weren’t sure the babble that left your mouth before you passed out was any sort of comprehendable to him.

#cod #call of duty #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #john soap mactavish #john soap mactavish x reader #kyle gaz garrick #kyle gaz garrick x reader #Alejandro Vargas #alejandro vargas x reader

154 notes · View notes