#➵ we're all infected [ ic post ]

[dixoniisms]

continued from ➵

➵ the archer draws in a soft breath, looking over at the younger before gesturing for him to shut up - a finger to his lip. he adjusts the grip on his crossbow, nodding toward the direction of footsteps, before pointing to the thick tree above them - a silent gesture to climb.

@all-that-is-youtiful-and-void

[dixoniisms]

❝ nah , you stepped up when no one else would . ain't fault ya for th'way shit's gone , man . ❞ daryl watches rick , before shuffling himself closer to where the other had sat down - gently nudging his leg with an elbow . ❝ you kept us alive . ❞

He tipped his head towards him, "Yeah I'm good. Just... you know. Thinking about the past. How maybe I could have done better for you guys. Maybe we'd all be together still." He said as he rubbed his neck.

[covid-safer-hotties]

Long Covid activist Meighan Stone didn't want to take her mask off. After pressuring her multiple times, an ER nurse called security on her. This public health failure happened at Sibley Hospital in D.C. These incidents are happening on a regular basis now as mask bans and proposals spread from L.A. to New York. You're not going to hear much about it in the news. When you do, it's framed as a problem for the vulnerable, with blue fascists freely associating masks with crime and hate.

None of the handful of stories that discuss these mask bans mention that we're currently in the middle of a deep Covid surge, at a million cases a day. None of them talk about mask bans in the context of Long Covid in adults and children.

A widely cited study declaring "strikingly low" rates of Long Covid in children was recently retracted due to major flaws in methodology. The researchers who pushed for this retraction are heroes and champions of truth.

Is the media covering that?

Not really.

To their credit, Time did recently run a very important piece on Long Covid in children, focusing on a recent study published in JAMA.

Here's the highlight:

They estimated that 20% of the previously infected younger children and 14% of the previously infected adolescents met that threshold [for diagnosis]. Kids infected before the Omicron wave were especially likely to fall into the Long COVID category. Those numbers are higher than some previous estimates—for example, a recent U.S. Centers for Disease Control and Prevention report concluded that only about 1% of U.S. kids had had Long COVID as of 2022. But other studies have come to similar conclusions, estimating that somewhere between 10% and 20% of kids who catch COVID-19 will develop long-term complications.

Media outlets like USA Today and NBC are also covering this study. For once, major news networks are devoting attention to something that deserves it. Of course, they're doing it after years of running stories blaming children's school performance and developmental delays on smartphones and lockdowns.

Earlier this year, The New York Times published a misleading, biased story on the "long-lasting" harm of school closures. And The Washington Post recently ran a story also blaming absences on everything except Long Covid and immune system damage. Even Education Week has run pieces attributing weak academic performance to school closures and stress, not the virus itself. It's like shooting fish in a barrel. Pick a magazine or newspaper and you'll find stories like these, but very few talking about the ongoing harm of exposing children and teenagers to Covid. The ones that do are almost always sitting behind a paywall.

Absence speaks louder than words, and not just about Covid.

In 2022, barely 1 percent of all corporate television focused on climate change. That was, in fact, a record high. A year later, it fell 25 percent. That was 2023, the year we surpassed 1.5C of warming for all practical purposes. It was the hottest year in recorded history, and also the worst year for climate disasters, costing us $600 billion in the U.S. alone. Entire countries shut down because it was too hot for work or school. All that, and the corporate media spent even less time talking about the problem. Meanwhile, one columnist after another published long screeds against doomers and fearmongers, insisting that we still had plenty of time to turn things around.

A compelling piece by Ryan Hagen breaks down the unsettling relationship between western news media and the fossil fuel industry. As he points out, internal reports from companies like Exxon celebrate their campaign to turn liberal news outlets like The New York Times in favor of their own industries, convincing the public they were working hard to shift toward renewable energy when the plan was always to use it like icing on top of a cake made out of coal.

Tireless work by Amy Westervelt has chronicled the impact of these campaigns. As her research shows, climate change has morphed from a topic that 80 percent of the public felt an urgency about to, now, a divisive issue and a point that most people would rather not talk about. On top of that, think tanks like the Atlas Network have made a major push to criminalize peaceful climate protests and turn public opinion against activists. A Yale study found that more than 60 percent of Americans hardly ever hear anything about climate change now.

And if you bring it up...

You're a doomer.

There has been a concerted effort across the internet to paint anyone who actually cares about the future as a deeply unhinged fearmonger. Meanwhile, social media giants like Meta have relentlessly censored information about Long Covid.

Have you noticed?

Nate Bear pulled the curtain back on how the media works roughly a year ago. As he puts it, "A lot of the stories you see in the headlines are the result of a PR agency. And depending on the news, the PR agent might not send out a release en-masse but “sell in” the story as an exclusive to just one outlet... Every day a proportion of all news you read starts at just a handful of these agencies."

PR firms are constantly wooing journalists, creating an atmosphere where conflict of interest is more of a feature than a bug.

Caitlin Johnstone did a thorough breakdown of mass media bias. Perhaps the most egregious example: MSNBC reporter Krystal Ball leveled blunt but accurate criticism of Hillary Clinton's 2016 campaign and correctly predicted that she would lose against Donald Trump because of all her neoliberal baggage. In response, the Clinton campaign threatened the entire network "not to provide any access during the upcoming campaign." The head of the network told Ball that she "could still say what I wanted, but I would have to get any Clinton-related commentary cleared with the president of the network."

So, she couldn't say whatever she wanted.

Right?

Johnstone cites a piece by Jeff Cohen in Salon that also outlines the peer pressure, groupthink, and careerism that dominates the newspapers, magazines, and mainstream news networks in the U.S.

As she further explains:

Journalists either learn how to do the kind of reporting that will advance their careers in the mass media, or they don’t learn and they either remain marginalized and unheard of or they get worn down and quit.

Christopher Hedges, who left The New York Times after a written reprimand for criticizing the Iraq War, has gone on to describe in disturbing detail how the U.S. media caters to the Israeli government, continually overlooking its war crimes. An outspoken critic of U.S. policy, Hedges has endured persecution for speaking the truth, including the cancellation of his news program for defending other writers and real journalists from charges of antisemitism.

Another outspoken critic, Mehdi Hasan, was dropped from MSNBC for speaking out over Palestine. As Sharon Zhang wrote after the decision, "Hasan has been one of the only news anchors on a major broadcast outlet speaking up against Israel's brutality." He was also one of the few news anchors who told the truth about Covid. As Hasan recently made clear in The Guardian, it's imperative for Democrats to take a stronger, pro-humanitarian stance on Gaza and break with Biden's approach, which has sparked outrage and disgust across the left.

Hasan makes a remarkable point in this column, looking to history for cues about how Democrats need to act to ensure history.

It's not vibes.

It's guts.

Nobody really remembers Hubert Humphrey, LBJ's vice president who lost the 1968 election to Richard Nixon by about a percentage point. It's a lesson worth talking about. Humphrey was losing badly because he couldn't stand up to his own party, the Democrats, who were actually very, very pro-Vietnam War. He managed to close the gap considerably in the 11th hour of the race, finally standing up to his own party and promising to end the war if he became president. Hasan wonders what would've happened if he had trusted his gut sooner.

Well, history gives us a few clues. After all, Nixon did end the war. In the decades since, the Vietnam War has gone down in history as one the biggest mistakes the U.S. ever made. Psychologists use it as a case study of entrapment in escalating conflicts. It's a touchstone used to rate our other failures.

Time and again, history tells us that doing the right thing actually serves political expedience far more than vibes.

Democrats could ensure a landslide victory if they would just take a clear stance on our biggest threats and challenges. They could be honest about Covid. They could stand up against mask bans. They could stand up against genocide. They could renew their promise to take on climate change.

We're not seeing that.

Instead, we see the same groupthink and indirect censorship that dominates the news media. It's not a surprise, given how entwined they've become.

Look at what's happening to Taylor Lorenz.

Outlets like The Washington Post and NPR, who pride themselves on their devotion to democracy and diversity, have assailed Lorenz for referring to Biden as "a war criminal" in a private social media post.

Here's the worst part of NPR's story:

Lorenz has also courted controversy, online, in print, and in real life. During the peak of the pandemic, and since its ebb, she has inspired mockery from conservatives over her insistence on wearing masks, even outdoors. She has cited autoimmune issues as the reason.

Look at the verbs here. Far from objective, they describe Lorenz as "insisting" on wearing a mask "even outdoors," and then frame her autoimmune issues not as a reality but as a reason, almost an excuse. For the record, multiple studies have shown that Covid spreads outdoors, especially at crowded events.

This is what writers and real journalists deal with as they try to do the right thing. It's disturbing to watch.

Both Jared Yates Sexton and Sarah Kendzior have expressed an ambivalent reluctance to get on board with the vibes as the DNC hosts their national convention. The kindest thing Sexton can say is that "It was a masterful feat of political theater" as organizers clambered to put down pro-Palestinian protests during speeches and tilted cameras away from violence and toward more soothing, therapeutic shots of Tim Walz with his family.

As Kendzior writes, "Today both the Democratic and Republican parties operate on cult logic, which means they sometimes have the same policies, but wrapped in different rhetoric--because cultists will abide anything so long as their leader is the one pushing it. Policies they would protest if they were carried out by the other side are suddenly deemed acceptable when pushed by their own."

The same goes for media coverage.

It's worth pointing out that Kamala Harris no longer supports a ban on fracking. She no longer supports a single-payer healthcare system, otherwise known as "Medicare for all" which would provide healthcare access to everyone. Her stance on border patrol and police funding have all shifted right. The media signs off on it, saying "Progressives said they’re disappointed but still support her as she works out the best strategy to defeat former President Donald Trump — even if it means leaving their cause behind."

But it's not just causes getting left behind.

It's human beings.

Is it simply a desire or a wish that nurses don't call security on us because we want to wear masks at an ER, like Meighan Stone? Do we have to leave our human rights behind so we can ensure our human rights?

Do we have to lay down our lives for vibes?

That's the current groupthink.

So there you have it.

The media doesn't report the truth. They spend about 1 percent of their time on things that actually matter. Politicians cater to an underinformed public, creating a self-fulfilling prophecy that leads to nurses calling security on immunocompromised patients for wearing a mask, while newspapers and networks fire real journalists for daring to do their jobs.

It's really something, isn't it?

It doesn't help when readers and viewers complain anytime someone salts their mood with the truth. In an era where free, independent content matters more than ever, it's also harder than ever to come by. How are content creators supposed to tell the truth or talk about things that matter when they're constantly being reprimanded, penalized, and punished every time they try?

We desperately need a free press, and we need a public that supports a free press and not silos of dueling echo chambers.

You get what you support.

It's that simple.

[unseededtoast]

Turtle Doves | Joel Miller x F!oc

Part One

Chapter Directory

Series Summary: In which two broken souls connect so deeply, that if one should perish, the other would surely die of a broken heart. (slow burn, timeline changes. After TLOU1, before TLOU2, assumed knowledge of infected, uses elements from both show and game)

Series Warnings: Graphic depictions of violence, death, and sexual content.

Also cross-posted on Wattpad and AO3. Link to my masterlist for everything else I’ve posted!

wc: 2.9k

a/n: Thank you for checking out this story! This is by far one of my favorites that I've ever written and I am beyond ecstatic to finally be able to share it with you all. I will be uploading a new part every week, and let me know if you'd like to be tagged! Once again thank you so much!

"What do you think of all this?" My voice is unusually hoarse as I take in the images before me. There have been reports of some sickness going around, mainly in the bigger cities, far enough from here to make us feel safe, for now.

(use this link for geographical reference points)

Upbeat music sounds through the house, bright sunshine beaming through the open windows. The crisp breeze whips in every few seconds, blowing the sheer curtains and cooling the house. It all makes it seem more real that summer is finally here. I lightly bob my head to the beat, enjoying the first day of warmth and excited for our first cookout of the year. I hear a few of the guests in the back yard already, laughing and clinking bottles together.

I turn around and open the freezer door, grabbing the ice tray off the top shelf and breaking up the frozen water inside, so that I can dump the cubes into the glass pitcher sitting on the kitchen counter. The ice clings as it falls to the bottom of the pitcher, and I go to fill it with water to finish the lemonade. With another gust of wind, the smell of grilled burgers floats in, making me all too excited to get back out there.

The doorbell rings out and I quickly turn the water off so that the lemonade doesn't overflow into the sink. I set the pitcher off to the side and dry my hands on the towel laying on the counter. Quickly, I make my way to the door and open it, greeting the next arrivals with a wide smile on my face.

"Thank you guys for coming, please make yourselves at home! I think the burgers are just about done out back." I say and close the door behind them, grabbing a dish from my friend's full hands and placing it on the counter. Her daughter toddles through the house, mumbling about something that's apparently very important to her. I smile softly at the little girl and turn my attention to my friend, who I haven't seen in forever. Her husband quickly finds his way to the back yard with the other guests.

"Sorry we're late, someone did not want to wear shoes today." She breathily laughs, setting down a diaper bag as she watches her daughter walk around the house.

"I understand, shoes are a pain." I joke with her and open the fridge to grab a chilled bottle. I hand the wine cooler to her and she pops the cap, taking a sip. I look at my friend, who I notice looks tired and stressed, more than usual. There are dark circles under her eyes and her hair is haphazardly thrown up into a bun. Her appearance is out of character for her, she's typically always primped and dressed for the occasion.

"Tell me about it. I was half tempted to just let her come barefoot. How's Lucas?" She asks about my son, taking another sip. I turn my head to look out the back door, seeing my son being held by my husband.

"He's loving all the attention out there, that's for sure. How are things going, Lisa? I feel like I haven't seen you since last year." I inquire, casually grabbing the lemonade pitcher and setting it beside the veggie tray I took from her. She sighs,

"Things have been better. John has been working more hours lately. Which is fine, it's just that I feel like I never sleep anymore." She tries to joke, but I can sense the exhaustion in her. Her husband works as a physician at a local hospital, and has been on call for the past two weeks. I offer her a small smile and put a hand on her shoulder,

"You and little miss Amelia are welcome here anytime. Lucas would enjoy the company and I know you'd enjoy the rest. I mean it, I don't mind watching her." I tell her, knowing that she will likely never take me up on the offer. Lisa doesn't like to impose on people, though she wouldn't be imposing at all.

"I appreciate it Noelle, thank you." She nods gratefully. Amelia finds her way to the back door and puts her slobber-covered hands on the glass, mumbling nonsense but making it clear she wants out there with everyone else. I laugh at her silliness and balance the veggie tray in one hand and grab the lemonade in the other.

"I think Amelia wants to get out there. Feel free to just relax, we can watch over her. Enjoy yourself, mama." I say and make my way to the backdoor and expertly open it with my elbow. Amelia squeals and runs out onto the grass with the other kids.

Lisa goes to sit on the couch, taking another drink, and I close the door behind me. I set the veggie tray down on a foldable table where the other side dishes are and place the cold lemonade beside the other beverages. The burgers smell amazing and I can't help but glance over to the grill to see if they're done yet. To my disappointment, they're not ready, so I walk over to my husband Ryan, who has Lucas in his arms.

"Do you want me to take him?" I ask, knowing that even though Lucas is a small kid, he gets quite heavy after a while. Ryan nods and hands him off to me, kissing me on the forehead before he goes to grab a beer out of the cooler. Lucas lays his head on my shoulder and I can tell he's ready for his afternoon nap.

I go back in the house to find Lisa chilling on the couch, her drink empty in hand and her head resting back on the cushion with her eyes closed. Quietly, I make my way to Lucas' room and lay him down in bed. Of course, as soon as he's on the mattress he's starts to throw a fit, because he's so obviously not tired.

"Shhh, it's okay." I soothe him, running a hand through his short hair and tucking a light sheet around him while he curls his tiny little hand around my fingers. He always likes to be holding someone's hand as he falls asleep, I think it must be some sort of security thing for him. And thankfully, he's out in just a few minutes. Skillfully, I wiggle my hand from his grasp and close his door softly, hoping he'll sleep for at least an hour or two.

Lisa is now sitting up on the couch, her elbows resting on her knees as she leans forward, listening intensely to whatever is on. Something on the TV must have caught her attention.

I go to the fridge and grab a drink, wanting to indulge a little since Lucas is down for a nap. The words on the TV pique my interest, and I go to sit beside Lisa, who only glances at me out of the corner of her eye.

"Los Angeles is the latest city to be placed under Martial Law. The number of confirmed deaths has now passed two hundred. And according to a leaked report from the World Health Organization, recent vaccination attempts have failed." The reporter seems uptight and rigid as she speaks. Absentmindedly, I take another sip of my drink, feeling uneasy about what I'm hearing. The upbeat music from the yard starkly contrasts the severity of what's on the television.

The news broadcast switches to a helicopter view of Los Angeles and shows a temporary military camp being set up. Large armored trucks line the streets and soldiers instruct people where they need to go. There's smoke in the air from fires that have been set, and it looks like some foreign, war-torn country.

"What do you think of all this?" My voice is unusually hoarse as I take in the images before me. There have been reports of some sickness going around, mainly in the bigger cities, far enough from here to make us feel safe, for now. But seeing the devastation and panic of those in New York, Detroit, and now Los Angeles is making me more uneasy about the whole thing.

"I don't like it. John says we shouldn't worry about it. Whatever it is, they'll find a cure for it soon. He says he hasn't seen anything come through the hospital yet and that we're okay. But I don't know, I can't help but worry, you understand." Lisa's voice is soft, but serious. She tears her eyes away from the screen and looks to me as she finishes her sentence, and I nod my head.

"I understand. Ryan says the same thing. But we aren't that far from Detroit, really. I mean what, a few hours by car? I told him we should at least stock up on some canned goods, just in case." I say, knowing that we share the same anxiety about this mysterious sickness. The back door slides open quickly,

"Burgers are done!" Ryan's voice calls out into the house, snapping Lisa and I out of our contemplation. I clear my throat and take another drink before standing and offering Lisa my hand. She takes it and I help her up as well, and we both go outside, trying to forget what we just saw on the screen.

We join the others in the back yard and Lisa makes quick work to fix Amelia a plate. I urge others to get a plate before I do, feeling unnerved from the news report. After everyone goes through the line, I grab a plate as well, but can only bring myself to put some fruit on it, and that's just for show.

I join Ryan at the patio table and he's tucking into his burger with all the fixings. I take another drink and try my absolute best to act perfectly normal and unperturbed. Ryan swallows and looks between my plate and my face, his eyebrows scrunching together.

"Only fruit?" I nod my head, knowing it's out of my usual to not load up with a burger, chips, and some type of sweet.

"Just not feeling too well." I passively offer as an explanation and take a strawberry into my mouth. He takes another bite of his burger, keeping his eyes on me. I know he can see through my lie, but I know he won't push it in front of people. He puts a hand on my thigh and gives it a squeeze, and I place my hand on top of his.

I take another strawberry and look out into our back yard, seeing Amelia happily nibbling on a bun Lisa gave her. Another little kid sits beside Amelia, Ethan is his name, and he is content with his bowl of chips his mother gave him. Ethan's mother, Rebecca, met Lisa and I at a birthing education group a few years back and we all clicked together instantly. Rebecca's husband, Tim, fit right in with our husbands as well.

Others mill about the yard, associates of Ryan who I don't know very well, but they're friendly enough and I don't mind them. I've never been able to connect with them too well, seeing as there's a sizable age gap between me and the majority of them. Plus, they're all lawyers and I'm a florist, there's not much common ground between the two. Sometimes I wish I had more in common with Ryan's friends, but over time I've accepted that it's okay for us to have differences.

My eyes drift from the people to my flower beds, which are all manicured to perfection. Luckily, all the flowers are vibrant and full, adding more life to the yard it sometimes lacks in the colder months.

After a while, I go about collecting plates and cleaning up the food as the sun begins to disappear behind the horizon. Ryan is entertaining a newly energized Lucas as Lisa and I pack away the leftovers and hunt out the s'mores supplies. No Allen family cookout is complete without s'mores.

I turned the television off as soon as we started bringing things in, not being able to bear the words and images that were sure to be there. If I can just push those thoughts from my mind for another couple hours and make sure people enjoy the cookout, then I can worry about it for the rest of the night after they leave.

Lisa hands me a platter of leftover burgers to put in the fridge and breaks the silence,

"Your flowers are beautiful this year, I really like the tulips you have here." She compliments my fresh pink tulips on the counter. I had picked them this morning before everyone got here so they looked their best. I smile, appreciating the compliment.

"Thank you, I tried to pick the best ones. You can take those with you if you want. I have plenty." I say, motioning to the backyard. It's true, I have an abundance of flowers to choose from, and I want Lisa to have something nice for herself, she deserves it.

"Oh no, I couldn't. You worked hard on those." She dismisses with a wave of her hand, but I give her a stern look.

"Lisa, please take the flowers or I will make sure John takes them." I say, pushing the vase across the counter to her. She knows she's not going to win this argument and concedes, taking the vase in her hands.

"Thank you, Noelle." Her voice is quiet, and I give her a nod.

"Don't mention it. Now let's get these kids full of sugar before bed!" I laugh and hand her some of the s'mores ingredients to take out.

A few of the men had started the fire and have it at a nice height, it should last us long enough to get the s'mores made and for people to say their goodbyes for the night. I hand out the skewers and place the ingredients on the foldable tables, allowing people to help themselves.

Lucas waddles over to me with a marshmallow in his tiny hand, and I smile, knowing he wants me to toast it for him. I grab him in my arms and take his marshmallow, placing it on a skewer before sitting us on a chair close to the fire. Lucas is on my lap as I watch the marshmallow to ensure I don't burn it, but toast it perfectly for him. Lucas is kind of a marshmallow snob, he won't eat one that's been burnt or under-toasted, he only wants the golden-brown ones.

After rotating the marshmallow with patience, I think it's finally good enough for his standards. I grab it off the skewer and blow on it so that he doesn't burn his mouth on the hot sugar. His hands reach towards it, but I lean away to cool it off as much as possible. I can tell he's getting frustrated, and so as soon as I'm sure it's an acceptable temperature, I give it to him. He wastes no time in shoving it in his mouth, a wide, gummy smile on his face with tiny little teeth barely visible.

I watch him lovingly, enjoying seeing him so happy with something so simple. As Lucas finishes his marshmallow, some people begin filtering out for the night. I wave goodbye to them and take Lucas inside to clean him up before bed. His hands and face are sticky with marshmallow fluff, and the last thing I want is for him to touch everything in his reach and get everything coated in stickiness.

I set him up on the counter beside the sink and grab a fresh rag, wetting it lightly so I can get the gross off of him. Rebecca, Tim, and Ethan are the next ones to leave, and I wish them a safe drive home, and thank them once more for coming. Lisa, John, and Amelia are the last ones to leave, and I make sure Lisa takes the tulips with her despite her protests.

After Lucas is cleaned up and Ryan has tidied the back yard, I'm ready for bed. My eyelids are heavy with sleep, and I can't wait to get underneath my warm covers. Lucas fights his bedtime as per usual, but finally lays down for me after minutes of whining.

I close his door and turn off the main lights in the house and ensure the night lights are on, just in case Lucas gets up in the night and needs to get to our room. I rub my eyes as I enter my bedroom and go to the bathroom to do my nightly routine. Ryan is already in bed, flipping through channels to find something.

I rush through my routine and get underneath the covers, sighing with relief as I feel my spine decompress from the day. Rolling over into Ryan's side, I rest my head on his shoulder and look at the television screen. Immediately, I'm displeased with what I see. A bold headline is front and center and it reads 'Death Toll Rises, When Will This End?'. Luckily the TV is on mute so I can't hear what the news reporter is saying.

"I think we need to stock up on things tomorrow. I don't like how this is looking." I say, standing my ground this time. Ryan can believe whatever he wants about this sickness, but I won't risk Lucas going without food or any necessity if things get bad.

"First thing in the morning we can go." Ryan's voice is raspy, and he turns the TV off, not bothering to watch anything else. He adjusts his position and pulls me into him, kissing me goodnight before he rolls over to turn off his bedside lamp.

I cuddle into his side, enjoying the safety I feel in his arms and close my eyes, ready to fall asleep. As I feel myself drifting off, I hear muffled sirens in the distance.

Part Two

[dixoniisms]

continued from ➵

➵ ❝ pfft- ❞ an immediate denial, because no, he doesn't have a soft spot. yes he does, he's always been soft for kids. ❝ couldn't leave 'er on her own, she'd never make it. ❞

@all-that-is-youtiful-and-void

[dixoniisms]

➵ there's an instinct that flares hot in his chest like a fire, in response to the vulnerable moment between them —- because the archer had been taught through angry words and thrown bottles that showing emotions, letting people in? you didn't do that. you didn't cry —- you didn't beg, you didn't let anyone see the parts of you that were ugly. normally daryl would let that instinct overtake him, would drag up his cracked and battered wall to keep people at arm's length to protect himself —- to not let people have these advantages over him.

but clare is like a fresh breeze in the hot of summer, and despite how she tries just as hard to push him away —- to not let him in because that's how you keep people safe, that's how you keep yourself safe, her nature had been a familiar beast and it had slipped it's way through the cracks until she could knock down his walls. he feels the heat of her moving closer —- realizes that she's not pushing him away, not getting up when she has every advantage to just push to her feet and walk away, leave him sitting in the mud with emotions that he's never fully understood or known how to express. the archer doesn't realize that he's trembling until she's wrapping arms around him - broad shoulders tensing for a moment before daryl is swallowing down the barbed ball of nerves and reminding himself this is clare.

his eyes flutter shut, drawing in her actions and her words like a caged animal who's never felt the pleasant touch of a good scratch behind the ear until now. he lets her talk, because she'd afforded him the same grace - eyes stinging from the swell of emotion that clutches his heart in it's jaws. and as much as it terrifies daryl, to lay that much trust in someone - her words lull him into the safety of her words and her arms around him. the tears he's been pushing back so desperately finally fall, and his head drops from her forehead to her shoulder as his arms loop around her and hold her close, like she's a teddy-bear a frightened child clings to —- legs folding slightly to give him leverage to tuck her even closer.

❝ y'mean the world t'me, clare. ❞

A violent and martial move of dominance that was supposed to be an act of intimidation, another move like a hedgehog to hide his soft parts and offer long, sharp needles that prevent anyone from getting close to the vulnerable core, a sitting position as a forced submissiveness in the person below her to step away from his mindless aiming to keep her there out of the goodness of his heart and nothing more, ended up in an exposed position where she was like a sitting duck waiting for the fatal bullet. The ' mistake ' surfaced the moment his aura and proximity broke through the metal armor that had been forged over the years, understanding which tentacles hugged that cage of thorns until they broke it with their patience and comfort. The legs twitched, the feet stretched, the last signals that the overwhelmed brain wanted to send to the body to escape, but the hoarse voice silenced the commands of the frightened soul.

Scarlett curls fell over her face as beautiful as a porcelain doll, tried to hide a distorted expression of apprehension and timidity at this naked exposure, soft fingers fell awkwardly on the muscular chest. Soft digits found a strong, rhythmic heartbeat from the singing heart that hid deeper than just behind the prison of bones, tense muscles and thick skin. For a second, the tense body fell eased up. Clare had a thing for heartbeats. Artificial masks on trained faces, flattering words of lies and questionable parts, everything could hide the ugly and selfish in people, but the heartbeat. . . the beasts peeled off all the waxy layers of falsehoods and exposed the truth, like when blankets of snow melt from the ground. Like a war drum, fearless and strong, but warm and gentle, difficult and deprived. . .a rhythm that sent vibrations like a silent lullaby. The lulled state swallowed up the feeling of another skin on her own. She almost slipped away, but the sensitivity, tenderness and almost addictive sensation that she secretly longed for throughout her life forced the body to accept what it was missing. She-wolf knew nothing but the sexual act when it came to physical contact, quick and inconsequential, where she would escape from the rumpled beds before the sun bled its colors with the upcoming morning. Not even the names of the people were remembered, and the heat was only a basic reaction of the body that did not penetrate deeper than the sweaty skin. She listened to him, carefully, closely. . . not daring to contradict, expecting to hear something significant, but not aimed directly at her. Something important but not related to them. And then that pleasant, rough voice with an undertone of an angelic melody continued.

Eyelashes fluttered and the head lifted, watching him bathed in trance and chains of shock. He wanted to let her close, lead her pass the walls and barbwire , beyond the bites and barking, and hiding. She looked at him with a pale expression, her lips half open, hardly remembering to consume oxygen. It was as if he was speaking another language, as if it seemed to her, as if she were dreaming under the influence of drugs that made everything seem miraculous and unreal. But this was real, and he was real. Each movement of his fingers made warm tears flow faster, bones to melt and those rusty, jagged blades to fall like leaves in autumn. Tousled hair and a warm forehead on her cheeks consumed her, and her head bent forward as if seduced by the siren's song. Her chest was slowly approaching his, as if she were a magnet the woman couldn't resist, and the deep, raspy baritone made his soul bare before her. Clare had never felt so close to anyone, so vulnerable. . . but liberated, and seen. Appreciated. The shackles she had willingly nailed to her limbs snapped, and her hands rose, gently and defensively touching the broad shoulders, sliding up the strong back, until the palms pressed against the shoulder blades, embracing him, pulling him closer until his body kissed hers. . She held him with so much affection, devotion and burning desire to protect and shield him. The head moved slightly, the cheek pressed against his, the nose lightly brushed the other, the legs pressed gently but eagerly around his hips until their bodies were completely intertwined. Those moments of silence and intimate touches spoke more than a thousand words.

" I would rather walk through hell much worse than this. . .than to ever hurt you Daryl. " honeyed voice swore to him, while the fingers followed, daring to delicately travel along his neck and dive in the messy hair, nails grazing the scalp lovingly, softly. Other hand still hugging around him as if he would vanish if she lets go. " I know how the world sees me, and that is fine. . . but I want. . . I need you to know that. . ." Slight movement, careful and light, to make the forehead to find his, pressing it until there was nothing but skin on skin, emerald orbs focused on his lips just inches apart. " . . . I would do anything to take away whatever evil came upon you, swallow it willingly, if it means you finally see that you are far from nothing. . ." a broken, but honest smile. ". . .you are everything. " Hand stroking the back of his head, playing with the strands of chestnut colored hair as if it wasn't her limb. " I wish you would let me see all of it. . . hear all of it. . . because I know how heavy is the armor you carry, the belief you have that everyone matters but you, that you can and must keep going like this. . . " no matter there was no space left to fill, woman pulled him closer to provide the filing of impenetrable shelter made only for the archer. ". . . you don't have to wear it with me. "

[phosphoresccent]

i tried not to but. im going to have to live blog the jaffactory stream its too good (i'll just edit this post)

funnies

lewis crashed a plane into a tree and the hard cut to it was amazing

simon's stupid little wet lunch adventure

lewis has called simon dad, lad and duncan so far "i'm your daddy, right lewis?" "stop talking about my genitalia lewis - i'm your father, show some respect"

the modpack is not very well optimised lmao

duncan hasn't turned off his discord notifications, harry's POV has broken and they have already cheated in EXP for a bit

they have now started playing terrible trivia

lewis trying so hard to drop lore but simon keeps making funnies. simon everything you say is so cursed, i've missed this. please stop talking about whale tits.

"we are very confused here, at the yogscast. we don't see gender."

"none of us have had sex, thats for damn sure" LEWIS

"classic jaffa factory - just found another secret lewis hole" lewis is now eating the fuckin mountain. he also fell into his own hole. well done lewis.

"lewis i need you to fill my hole" SIMON??

all spruce all the time.

now this is chat not the boys, but everyone is talking about when he 'put the heating on' in SOI, and also a bit about lysander whenever the blimp shows up

simon accusing lewis of being a richboy snowboarder.

simon is in creative diughifgh - he's back in creative again thats so valid of him. oh no, he's infected lewis (they are running out of time for the stream, to be fair) - oh no, not barry too!!

lewis and simon fighting to the death for the intro

lewis' laugh at simon's jokes are so loud they blow out the mic <3 <3

"no one has ever mentioned the tick rate on the server, i think we got away with it"

apparently bullying a high duncan is an office hobby

the cable car is *so* blorped i love it so much. everyone keeps falling out

duncan got stuck in spectator mode which is hilarious

please never let simon build a man again. santa 2 is so cursed.

new lore

canonically they just woke up at the jaffa site, they didn't walk there, nor do they remember how they got there

officially confirmed that the crashed ship is from Hole Diggers' cheese incident

israphel mention

honeydew's office is extra dimensional and also he doesn't own the jaffa factory, he sold it

CLONES MENTION??? "I'm - I'm starting to worry we're all clones" "We've had some history with cloning - you wouldn't remember though, would you [Honeydew]?"

this honeydew might actually be an earlier clone - from prior to holediggers?

im sure this is not actually lore - but the 'this xephos may be a honeydew clone' bit is hilarious

rocket stuck in ice tower (the jokes are predicable but very funny)

ominous helmet now fused to honeydew's head via curse of binding.

oh no honeydew has a gun

new book is referencing the og 'santa with a belt below the ass' from jaffactory 1

hypercube reference!!!

giant present just dropped from space - xephos' body at the feet of the statue is sending me

xephos loving his little plane is so sweet to me. love this. hes very protective about it.

THE STICK IS BACK!!! poor xephos is getting smacked again.

so many spoilers!! we are getting jetpacks back again (update - only lalna has one so far!)

xephos remains a hoarder. he has so much random crap on him at all times.

xephos deaths so far this stream: at least 2

the fast tick rate is, in fact, canon. is it magic? is it a simulation? who knows!

"[Honeydew] why is the bathroom on fire?" the whole building almost burnt to the ground. the bathroom now has a snake it in. he lives there. he's xeph's little buddy.

"Yippe!!" Brry and Xeph having fun on a trampoline, much cuter that the very cursed last half hour of the stream.

only just noticed the blue detailing on xeph's backpack which is very very cute - honeydew's also suits him!

everyone sitting on the couches by the fireplace is so cute

Brry went into the portal - Lalna's dead body is still on the tracks - thats how the stream ended, with him yelling "I DONT WANNA BE HERE"

[vxnillavampir]

All I Wanted .1 - Nice Shot

you thought your life was over until you stumbled your way in to jackson. being the new girl around town means that someone has to show you the ropes and what to expect on patrols.

pairing: ellie williams x afab!reader

content warnings: some violent themes, reader takes out a couple of dudes and infected, joel makes an appearance, reader has relations with a man (briefly mentioned, barely even an aspect of the story), bad writing, not proofread. even though it's not smut, please be 18+ when interacting with my account thank you <3

a/n: hi…so i originally posted a little snippet of this on my old blog, in case this seems like something you have read before! i decided to just post the full chapter here. this is part of a multi part series i have in my drafts. who knows if the other parts will see the light of day.

SUPPORT PALESTINE

word count: 2.3k

November.

The ice-cold water being thrown in your face is what woke you up.

"We're going to need you to start talking." A blurred man kept pacing back and forth in front of you, his southern accent distinct. You shake your head to come to your senses and notice that your hands are tied behind you. The room you were in was dimly lit, the limited daylight peeking through the windows. What time is it? How long were you out? "Tommy take it easy," said another man with the same accent, "she's just a kid."

"I’m not a kid." You spat out.

"So, she speaks." The one that was apparently named Tommy knelt down in front of you. "Who are you? Where did you come from?" His voice was stern.

"California." Your voice sounded pretty groggy, and you cleared your throat to try and get yourself together.

"Jackson is a long way aways...what brought you all the way out here?" You glanced over at the other man who had his arms crossed. He was comfortably leaning against the wall waiting for you to answer. "I had to get out."

"You were...in pretty bad shape when I found you out on the trails. Are you infected?" The other man spoke up.

Tommy jolted up and stormed over to the mystery man. "You didn't even check to see if she was infected? What the hell is wrong with you, Joel!"

"I didn't see any bites when I picked her up..."

"I'm not. I was only passed out because I hadn't eaten in a few days..." Your stomach chimed in at the perfect time and both men looked over at you, relaxing a bit.

Joel sighed and uncrossed his arms. "You can eat when we figure out if you're going to be a problem or not." A problem? You guys are the ones that tied me up! You thought. "I don't mean to be any trouble. You can untie me, and I'll be on my way."

"Not with injuries like that," Joel gestured to your several cuts and stab wounds, "how'd you get those anyway?"

"I had to fight like hell out of my hometown. I don't feel like reliving it just yet." Your voice trailed off, feeling a bit faint once again from lack of food. The bearded man nodded slowly and unbound your wrists. Joel helped you up and your legs couldn't help but shake and wobble. "Woah, easy." He said softly and wrapped his strong arm around you to help you up.

    "Hey, don't go passing out on me again." Calloused fingers tilted your chin up and you opened your eyes. You looked around at your new surroundings. A bar? Where the hell did Joel take you? "Food as promised." He passed a bowl of food over in your direction. You two were sat in one of the few booths while soft rock played on one of the speakers. It has been a long time since you had electricity. The smell of hearty stew filled your nose and your stomach growled once again. Before you could even think, you were stuffing your face. "Okay slow down or else you're going to choke." The man chuckled in front of you. "Now why don't you go ahead and tell me your name?"

You swallowed before speaking up to introduce yourself. "That's a nice name you got. As you probably already know by now, I'm Joel, and the other guy is my brother. 'S name's Tommy...sorry he gave you such a hard time."

"It's fine...I guess. This place is pretty nice...at least from what I've seen in the two minutes I have been conscious."

"Yeah, sometimes Jackson has its moments. Better than a QZ."

"I wouldn't know. I just stayed on my family farm this whole time. I've heard some stories about life in a QZ, though."

"Family farm, huh? Sounds like you're one of the lucky ones." Joel cracked half a smile, thinking about what it would be like to live by himself on a patch of land.

"Yeah. Guess you could say that..."

"Y'know...we actually do need someone to join our patrol team. Do you have any experience with that?"

"I mostly just fixed fences and made sure our livestock was taken care of. Since we were so far away from the city, I never had to take down any of those creeps at the time if that's what you're wondering...but I can handle myself."

That part was clear. You can't travel over a thousand miles on foot without being able to take care of yourself. "You could stay here for a night and rest up. We can see how you do on one of our routes in the morning. What do you say?"

"Yes! Just as long as you don't tie me up again." A dry laugh escaped your lips before you continued to devour your food.

            The next day you woke up bright and early in a studio apartment that Joel and Tommy had near their place. It was nice to actually sleep on a bed for once. After you got ready for the day you heard a knock at the door. An impatient auburn-haired woman stood in front of you, her arms crossed. "Uh, hey. I'm Ellie. Tommy told me I needed to show you the ropes. Whatever that means."

You nodded. "Okay. I'll just go grab my bag." You shifted around your things and stuffed your backpack with a few necessities you might need like your trusty bow and some arrows, along with your daggers and emergency pistol.

Ellie stood by a horse that you can only assume is hers, arms still crossed. You couldn't tell if she was cold or if she was just pissed off. "Got everything?" You nodded, watching her as she effortlessly got on the horse. "The stables are empty so...we're gonna have to share." She said awkwardly. "Oh..." You breathed out and attempted to climb on.

"Here, let me help." She extended out her hand and you reluctantly accepted it. All of this was so embarrassing. You have been on horses before and even grew up with them, but your injuries made it difficult to get on your own this time. Once you managed to get up Ellie signaled for the horse to take off. The jolt of movement caused you to instinctively grab onto her waist so you wouldn't fall off the damn thing.

Ellie couldn't help but feel a little smug about this situation, I mean, she had a pretty girl holding on to her for dear life. "So, I'm guessing that you never ride?" She called out to you.

"I ride a lot of things." You joked to ease how awkward this whole experience is, hearing a snort from Ellie. "Awful joke, new girl."

The scenery of this trail was absolutely beautiful, the lively green foliage was everywhere in this forest. It was well maintained—probably because of Ellie. "Wow..." You said in almost a whisper.

"What?" Ellie glanced around to make sure there was no danger.

"It's so...green."

"You don't have plants where you're from? They're everywhere. Literally."

"California is rarely this green. It's called the Golden State for a reason..." Mentioning the state where you're from sent you into a fight or flight state. The trauma you experienced was triggered just by thinking about your hometown.

"Mom? Are you okay?" Your mother was still...a little too still. She was standing over the dead body of your father. Her head turned to meet your eyes at the sound of your voice, her skin paler than usual and her mouth covered in blood. She was infected. Before you knew it, she was sprinting at you and thankfully your adrenaline kicked in.

She chased you out of the house and into the barn where you kept your livestock. The cows mooing at the sight of your uncharacteristically feral mother. She tried to hop the gates to get to the animals and you quickly grabbed the rake resting on the barn door, impaling her with it, the rake going through her neck with ease and the sound of her blood gurgling would be seared into your brain forever.

"Hey, you with me new girl?" Ellie's raspy voice broke you out of your flashback, your arms practically shaking around her torso. "Y-yeah...just...a bad memory."

"Do you...want to talk about it?" She suggested, not knowing if you would actually take her up on the offer or not. After all, you two had just met. "No. Sorry."

"Don't apologize. I totally get it." All of the stories Ellie kept secret would surprise you.

"Alright, this is far enough." She signaled for the horse to stop and helped you down off the saddle. "Stay here, Shimmer. Don't do anything I wouldn't do." You couldn't help but crack a slight smile at how Ellie communicates with her horse. The sight of her chiseled hand stroking Shimmer sent a shiver down your spine. God, how long has it been since you saw another mentally coherent hot person? Get it together.

She stepped away from the horse and ducked down behind some bushes, her rough hand grabbing your wrist and gently dragging you down to meet her level. "Hunters." She gestured towards the two men walking mindlessly along the trail. "Let's see what you can do."

You quietly take out the bow that you had packed earlier and a few arrows from your backpack. Your eyes fixated on the stalky blond man following a slightly shorter man, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. When the man in front of him bent down to tie his boots you took a deep breath to steady your hands and your mind. This is it. You released the arrow from your fingertips at the same time you released the air from your lungs. The arrow glided through the air before taking out the unknown man with a headshot. The sound of his body thudding to the ground sent the other man into a scared frenzy. "Where are you?! Come out here you coward!"

"Nice shot. Now him." Ellie watched you in awe as you loaded up another arrow, the first arrow hitting the hunter in the stomach and the second in the throat. "How's that?" You said quietly in case there were more enemies around. "Good. Really good actually." Her words made your cheeks flush. You were always a fan of words of affirmation and encouragement. "Looks like the coast is clear. Let's get back to the others."

             After everyone got back from their routes, you all decided to blow off some steam at the bar you were at just the night before. The charming place was lit up by fairy lights and candles to create ambient romantic lighting. It looked so beautiful. "Everyone, we finally have a competent person joining our patrols! Jesse, please don't sleep with her. Please. I beg." Ellie said to the tall dark-haired man with her hands held together like she was praying. "You know I can't make promises that I might not keep," Jesse said slyly before extending his hand for you to shake. You shook his hand politely and introduced yourself to everyone else.

An hour later you were slowly sipping at your whisky and started people watching. The last twenty-four hours had worn you out and it was nice to see so many people living...normally—or at least what would be considered normal now. Ellie was dancing with Dina, and you couldn't help but feel a little bit jealous at the sight of her cheeks getting flushed from having Dina's arms around her neck.

"Another drink?" Jesse chimed in, snapping you out of your jealous thoughts. "Trying to get me drunk?" You smirked at him before taking the drink from his hand.

"You caught me. That was my intention all along." He joked as he took a seat next to you at the bar. "So...wanna gossip? I know some pretty juicy stuff about almost everyone here." The offer did sound pretty tempting...

"Sure, I'll bite. What's going on with those two?" You gestured over towards Ellie and Dina. Jesse let out a prolonged sigh at the sight of the two of them. "Those two...a little bit of a will they won't they thing they have going on. I mean, I guess Ellie could use a win since she broke up with her last girlfriend." Girlfriend. That's promising at least.

"Do you know what happened between them?"

"No. Ellie is a closed book most of the time. You only know what she wants you to know." You nodded at his words and took another sip of your drink. The alcohol creates a warm pool in your stomach. "Dina on the other hand, we are kinda in an on-again-off-again relationship..."

"And right now you're...off?"

"Yeah..." Jesse looked at the floor to keep his eyes off the two of them. It was hard, he was friends with Ellie and his ex-girlfriend had an obvious crush on her.

"I feel like we're going to need another round of these." You say after taking one last sip from the clean glass and handing it to him. Jesse chuckled and went back to the bar to get more booze. If you were going to do what you had planned to do tonight, you needed more liquid courage to get over these nerves. It had been a long time since you had any affection and it seemed like Jesse would be able to give it to you. At least for the night.

So you went back to his place.

AHHHH omg there i finally posted something y’all. please let me know what you think!

dividers by cafekitsune <333

© vxnillavampir 2024 - don’t copy, steal, translate, repost, or plug any of my works into an ai.

[xpao-bearx]

This is dedicated to the absolutely beautiful hooman bean @basketobread 💕 They are truly one of the best people I've EVER met and has such a kind, wonderful heart!!! Furthermore, all of their artworks are literal ✨️MASTERPIECES✨️ They and their works are a constant source of joy for me and I just got inspired to write this very short, very simple fic of my BG3 Tav and their much beloved character Lunara meeting 🥰 It's not much, but I hope y'all like it and I hope even more that I did Lunara's amazing character justice! This is also my first time writing my Tav in a story format so it's great practice and an opportunity to flesh her out more before I post my fic of her and Astarion :)

More about my Tav here + this is the song she's singing in this story (and fun fact: I headcanon the singer to be my Tav's voiceclaim!) ❤️

Fic is under the cut and thanks sooo much for reading!! \(^o^)/

Darkness consumed the drow cleric's entire visage. A darkness that reminded her of her past in the Underdark; a waking nightmare she miraculously escaped, forging a path of her own, under the light and guidance of her Lady of Silver.

But this time, she feared that this smothering darkness would be...permanent. She could feel herself blinking, yet only blackest black and the stinging prick of her tears greeted her. She felt the ground beneath her and she doesn't think she broke any bones--or so she hopes--but she couldn't move. There was a looming heaviness in her chest and ice gripping at her heart.

Is she...dying? Eyes fluttering shut, she's resigned to her paralysis, but has not given up hope.

Because fuck that, she's most definitely not a quitter.

"M-My Lady of S-Silver..." She murmured, weak in physique but ever strong in her faith. "P-Please watch o-over me, h-help me overcome..."

She hasn't the faintest clue how long she stayed like that, strengthening herself in prayer, though eventually her ears perked up at the sound of...footsteps?

Something--or, rather, someone--sat next to her. She heard some shuffling then the soft strum of a lyre being played and a beautiful, soothing voice reverberating in her head.

"Flower, gleam and glow

Let your power shine

Make the clock reverse

Bring back what once was mine"

As the mystery songstress continued, she could feel power coursing through her veins, slowly but surely. She blinked once more and faint spots of light danced amidst the shadows.

"Heal what has been hurt

Change the Fates' design

Save what has been lost

Bring back what once was mine

What once was mine"

She felt her fingers twitching, toes wiggling; and, like a flower blossoming, she rose. She let out a sharp gasp as she sat up, chest still heavy but not as excruciating as it was before.

She's alive.

She blinked rapidly, perfect vision returning. She had hardly a moment to gather her bearings when someone's voice rang excitedly.

"Holy hells! I'm so glad you weren't, like, completely dead! Good thing I saw you just in time!"

Her gaze landed on the young woman before her. A half-drow with a smile as bright as the sun and mismatched eyes (one, she noticed, being a rather unusual blood red with a prominent scar across it). She was pretty--ahem, very pretty, might she add--but looked worse for wear. Something she was sure she looked, too.

Before either of them could say anything else, a migraine hit them both like a spiked club. They both cradled their heads in their hands, fragments of a hellish nautiloid swirling in their minds, waiting for the pain to pass and their eyes meeting in recognition.

When it finally did, the stranger piped up once more.

"Oh, wow, we're parasite pals!"

Despite the situation of it all, she laughed. A welcoming warmth radiated from the strange stranger, enveloping her and easing the tension of all of today's utter bullshit. From being kidnapped by godsdamned Mind Flayers to being infected by a disgusting parasite, she laughed and felt comforted that, at the very least, she was not alone.

"Indeed we are!" She grinned before holding her hand out. "Thank you so, so much for saving me! My name is Lunara and you are..?"

The stranger beamed, shaking Lunara's hand and her other hand making a theatrical waving gesture. "Mon'sun, at your service, fair maiden! Perhaps you've heard of me, perhaps not. The tale of my titillating life is still being written, you see~"

'Ehe. TIT-illating.' Lunara thought to herself, letting out a small chuckle before clearing her throat. She was a toootally mature adult, after all.

"Well, Mon'sun, Selûne's blessings upon you!" Lunara did a half bow, mimicking Mon'sun's theatrics which Mon'sun definitely approved of. "Besides your incredibly kind and gracious act of saving me, I'm positive my Lady of Silver led you here for a reason. What say you we band together and find a cure for this parasite?"

"Oho, asking to team up so fast? I would say take me out to dinner first, but I'm pretty easy sooo..." She joked, making a show of thinking before gasping dramatically, pretending to cry tears of joy. "Yes! A thousand times yes!"

Lunara just as dramatically placed a hand over her heart, sniffling. "Thank you! I promise to make you a happy woman!"

As they both stood up chattering and laughing away, preparing for the thrill of adventure ahead, Lunara noticed she was missing her coin pouch.

"Have you seen my coin pouch? I could've sworn I had it tied tightly around my waist, so there's no way it could've fallen off after the nautiloid crash." Lunara questioned as her purple eyes darted around their surroundings, ash and smoke rising from all the debris.

"Perhaps it burned away from the flames of the crash." Mon'sun replied smoothly, helping Lunara seek for her humble riches.

(Pssst, Mon'sun is lying and has Lunara's pouch in her pack, but she rolled a Nat 20 on ✨️deception✨️ sooo...)

"Well, nevermind then!" Lunara shrugged, smiling. "I'm sure our Lady of Silver will grant us great blessings for our journey. In fact, she has already bestowed upon me a most wonderful blessing in the form of a kind, trustworthy new friend!"

Narrator: *As the two drow kin embark on their perilous quest to free themselves of their parasites, a haunting voice echoes deep within the recesses of Mon'sun's mind; her own parasite. One of a different, godly breed taunting her--tormenting her.*

"Do you wish to find comfort in the presence of another inferior god, spiderling?" Lolth cackled, cruel music flooding Mon'sun's ears, vicious mockery only she can hear. "Such foolishness will only bring about disappointment...much like your new companion. But I am here, spiderling. Always watching. It is only a matter of TIME for you to bathe in her blood."

Mon'sun abruptly stopped in her tracks, shutting her eyes tight, nails digging into the palms of her hands that nearly drew blood as she willed the spider goddess to not so kindly fuck off. She was used to this by now, the lure of Lolth's appalling temptations always merciless, sickening, and...gratifying.

But no. She will never ever give in. Absolutely fucking NOT!

"Are you alright, Mon'sun?"

Mon'sun's eyes snapped open, sweat beading down her temple and wide, frantic eyes landing on Lunara, a few feet in front of her staring at her in concern.

"...I forgot!" A beat too late, a beat too nervous. But thankfully, Lunara didn't seem to notice it, only watching in curiousity as Mon'sun rummaged through her pack that was literally ripping off the seams.

Mon'sun then procured a small purple pouch, smiling sheepishly as she handed it to Lunara.

"Apologies, friend. I stole picked this up earlier and just remembered it now. This must be yours, yes?"

Lunara caught Mon'sun completely off guard when she launched herself at the other girl, wrapping her arms around Mon'sun.

"Oh, our Lady of Silver truly blesses me! Thank you, friend, your kindness knows no bounds!" Lunara giggled.

Mon'sun was still for a few moments before returning the embrace, laying her head against Lunara's chest. Her bardic ear listened close, the faint thrum of Lunara's heartbeat--as lovely as its owner--lulling her to a wonderful sense of security.

No matter how temporary.

[dixoniisms]

continued from ➵

➵ the archer lets out a soft scoff at the words, reloading his crossbow - always such a habit of leaving a bolt at the ready, even if he doesn't have need for it at the moment. ❝ man, rick's just pissed 'cause you'n lori had a thing. but it stopped, ain't it? ❞

@all-that-is-youtiful-and-void

[killacharacterbingo]

Prompt Master List

(Updated as prompts are added)

If any prompts don't make sense check this post: A prompt explained and A prompt explained II

Switching Places

Near-Death Experience

Drowning

Dumb Ways To Die

Blood Loss

Suicide

Your Worst Fear

Sacrifice

Sickness

Lightning

Fire

Hard Choices

Dead On Their Feet

Hero/Villain Swap

Torture

Crossover

Covid

Tomorrow Isn't Promised

Falling

Presumed Dead

Storm-Chasing

Canon Compliant

Never Meet Your Heroes

Stalker

Dictionary Death

Friendly Fire

13th Reasons Why

Musical Death

Survivor's Guilt

Conversation With Death

Collateral Damage

Test Subject

Pulling The Plug

Yandere

Betrayal

One Punch Can Kill

Medical Malpractice

The Blip

Cast It Into The Fire

"I Have The High Ground"

Deactivated

Once Bitten Twice Shy

Bleeding Blue

To Be Or Not To Be

Stabbing

Car Crash

Mugging Gone Wrong

Into The Woods

Death Of The Soul

Dormammu, I’ve Come To Bargain

The Cake Is A Lie

Even Heroes Die

With Great Power 

Sacrificed To The Gods

“Sometimes Death Is Better”

"I Finally Have Something To Leave Behind"

Natural Disaster

Mistaken Identity

Bucketlist 

Ten Years Later

Not So Secret Monologues

180 - The Character Doesn't Die

Final Destination

Raped To Death

Chronic Illness

Outed As A Spy

Bulletproof Vest

Sung To Sleep Forever 

A Soft Epilogue 

Wait For Me In Valhalla 

“I Was Saving My ten” - pain scale

“There’s A Boat Jack” 

Married Life Montage 

“You Have Your Mother’s Eyes” 

Russian Roulette

Defenestration

Karma’s A Bitch

Toxic Gas

Murder-Suicide

Famous last words

"Hey, i think we're going to be okay after all!"

"I'll always come back!"

In another's arms

Accident

Revenge

"You can rest now..."

A long time ago

Falls through the Ice

Asthma attack

Shock

Hypothermia

Pushed to the Limit

Commotio Cordis

Death row

Breaking the 4th wall

Wikihow to Die

Time loop

“If I can’t have you…”

Cardiovascular collapse

Allergic reaction

Erased from existence

Dead all along

Dying alone

Gunshot

Blood from the mouth

Patient zero

Old age

Overdose

Fatal Weakness

Assassinated

Infection

Suffocation

One moment stretched into a thousand

Origin story gone wrong

Area 51 raid

Trapped in a tiny space

Poison

Hanahaki / Hanakanjo / Hanauso

Tenshibyou

Kousekibyou

Shinshoubyou

Bouaishoukougun

Hoshinamidabyou

Death by ordinary illness

Hit and run

Starvation

Stroke

War

Cancer

Mercy Killing

Plane crash

Brain death

Fireworks

Death by seduction

Death bed confession

Organ Transplant

Their Legacy Is continued

Bound By Fate

Running out of time

Can’t breathe

Apocalypse

Shot down

Sepsis

Saving Throws – DnD

CPR

Self-harm

Smoke inhalation

Death by coconut

“Help me!”

Climbing accident

Blood-stained tiles

“You weren’t meant to be there”

“I love you”

“No… not like this”

Dug their own grave

Undead

Bees

The AO3 Curse

Deathly kiss

Going through hell

Meeting at the gates

Return from Hiatus

"watch out for the flying blades!"

5+1

Roofie

Left for dead

Strapped to a bomb

Hunger games

Zombification

Order 66

Aneurism

Executed

Lobotomy

Murder on the dance floor

Come to terms with death

“It’s okay”

Keeps dying

Letting go

Coma

Appendicitis

Neuromuscular blockade

Unfriendly pet

Explosion

Aftershock

Takotsubo cardiomyopathy

Faking their own death

Post traumatic amnesia

Schrödinger's paradox

Arbitrary hilarious death

Lack of Oxygen

High altitude

Diving deep

180 - the character becomes the killer

Angel of death

"You're going down with me!”

Never got to say goodbye

Graphic gore

Haunted

Calamity

The end of the world

Immortalized

Uploaded to the server

Reincarnated

Deleted

Sheep in wolves' clothing

Electrocuted

Adrenaline crash

911

Alternate universe ending

Radioactive

Acting on instinct

Collapses

“I miss you…”

Those left behind

Wind phone

Life support

Time Paradox

Temporary character death

Death during childbirth

PTSD

Cannibalism

Nightmares

Life flashing before your eyes

… Needs a hug

Headcanon

Returning home

Internal bleeding

Death of the universe

Empath

Relapse

Last person alive

“Sorry I have already tried and failed at it.”

“I told you so”

Should have seen it coming

Bad Aim

Forgotten

“Kill me instead…”

Warning shot

Canon died a brutal yet Necessary death

On the run

Miscarriage

Not guilty

Knocked over by the wind

Killed by a garden gnome

“Did you fall? Or did you let go…?”

Crushed

Bleeding from the ears

Hallucinogen

Buried alive

Blue screen of death

Killed by loved one

Big Bang

Intestinal obstruction

Silence is Going Extinct

Experimental treatment

Horseback riding

Seizure

Radiation

Tetanus

Short Bowl syndrome

Body snatchers

Conscious decomposition

One Chip Challenge

withered away

Detective AU

cat and mouse

Siren calls

SWAT

Chili

Invincible

Cloned

Don’t realize they’re dead

Moments taken for granted

Schadenfreude

Creepypasta

Expired medication

Deal with the Devil

Picking from a different challenge/Event

Heat stroke

Clone farm

Blood clot

ischaemic bowel disease

organ harvesting

extinct

Hernia

necrotizing enterocolitis

Death by unexpected illness

Stillbirth

School shooting

Postpartum infection

Insulin shock

Anatomic hemispherectomy

Emergency Surgery

Euthanasia/assisted suicide

Do not resuscitate

Social media challenge

Cotard's syndrome

Total Laryngectomy

Hospice care

Coin locker baby

Safe Haven baby box

A leap of faith

Drawn out death

Filicide

Reborn

narcolepsy with cataplexy

Devils breath

The fault in our stars

Five feet apart

What if the bad guy, wasn’t the bad guy?

What if the Hero wasn’t really good?

Miraculous recovery

Hallucinations

Plague inc evolved

“You Shall Not Pass!”

stuck in a chimney

fallen in wet cement

Monsters

the death of a streak

Carbon Monoxide poisoning

Transfusion Reaction

Meningitis

Forest fire

Sims death

Impaled

Epilepsy

Heart attack

Death by ball pit

Brain mass on the celling

Bursting

Ransom

Brain worms

Covered in someone else’s blood

Premenstrual dysphoric disorder

Mirror verse

We are all replaceable

What if this was your last fanfic?

Fleeting Immortality

Stunt Double

Uno Reverse

Death confession

Dying on your own terms

Murder confession

“Can you forgive me?”

"I'll be right here when you return”

Nangijala

Tunnel Vision

Paying your respects

[noobsomeexagerjunk]

Theorizing rambles!

Spoilers for the QSMP Emergency stream below, feel free to add and discuss especially if I missed something

Okay we need to talk about Codeflippa—described as a flawed code by the Resistance, who was there to guide BBH (neutral dreaded by major parties, of which I'll get into in another post), Max (infected by code after a Federation operation), and Pierre (experimented on by the Federation and is apparently a physical robot i guess???) to activate Protocol AB. Based on today's video, we can assume the Protocol is to send the islanders away to Egg Island, described as a protocol that'll make the islanders have fun games and challenges. She then sent Mariana into the void that led him to the Purgatory server

Then there's that shit with ElQ and Fred. Fred was the worker that led Tubbo (emerged from the ice, neutrally aligned afaik), Slime (code infected from being with Fl1ppa), and Roier (given relatively special treatment by the Federation) to the first instance of the Roulette Wheel surrounded by all the Eggs' accessories. q!Quackity then as we know kidnaps Fred. Man is still missing, and there's that ticket exchange with ElQ, leading to getting shot by Oscurucho yesterday. Based on Tubbo's interactions with Fred, I think the worker having ties to the third party is plausible—not sure what kind of ties, but I'm assuming he's disposable in the POV of the third party, or he would have been found already

Oscurucho knows of the Eye Observer, who stalked Toob, Charlie, and Roier when they went into the Maze. When Forever, island President, was sent into the Nether, he got toyed with by Oscurucho for a long period of time until he was asked to sow discord for the Purgatory event.

If we're assuming the Eye + Oscurucho (assuming the two ARE connected), I think they're the third party supposedly the Eggs ran away from. I think ElQ is the Federation infiltrator (had been hinting at this since the Election and suddenly his desperate attempts to be President make sense now—he was appealing to Federation standard not knowing it would ruin his reputation with the islanders; he needed to be President so he could facilitate the will of the Observer significantly with much less harm) and Fl1ppa is the Resistance infiltrator. ElQ has been playing the long game, and as we know Fl1ppa can do her own thing as far as Resistance members are concerned. This third party is either a branch of the grander Federation engaging in department infighting, a different resistance group, or something else entirely. I don't think we have enough info yet on its motives. All we can be sure about is that this third party inflitrated the protocol to skew it into Purgatory.

The roulette wheels and dice I feel have to be part of the original Federation Protocol. Otherwise, Bagi and Carre, whose entrances were marked by the roulette wheels, would have relevance rn, especially that Bagi's known lore mentions no third party + Carre hasn't logged in for a bit. These give the islanders the tickets that would have taken them to Egg Island. The special tickets may have relevance to the original Egg island but who knows tbh. The infiltration had to be very deep, very high up, or we and the islanders wouldn't be shown dialogues regarding access to official Federation records. We know the third party has also been making effort to reveal information the Feds worked hard to hide too. It appealed to the Islanders' general dislike of the Feds, clearly, or it would have been withholding information from the Islanders too and clearly making their already begrudging cooperation significantly more difficult. Strange to do that, for an entity who claims to hate the Islanders. WHAT ARE YOU UP TO? uewlwhfvroep

Like I said, feel free to add and discuss especially if I missed something

[iheartchv]

Can you do a vampire Donnie x F!Reader but in the 2012 series and with prompts and can you do a lemon for it too

89. Mating season 74. “Just relax.” 79. “Lay back and let me take care of you.” 58. Turtle bedroom 142. “Bite me.” 132. “Argue all you want, we both know you belong to me.” 123. “Don’t hold back.” 5. “MINE.” 32. “Do you trust me?” and Turning into a vampire

Could you add this to your Masterlist

// sorry if this seems rushed ;^_^7

//edit 1: I just realized that the full ending didnt save before I posted so.... I'll edit this very soon

//edit 2: I shortened the original ending because there is no way I was going to be able to write all of that again

Prompts©️ @turtle-babe83

Donnie and Reader are 18+; this was written by an adult for adults. No one under 18 please.

Donnie told you not to worry, but how could you not worry when he started looking a pale green while hunched over his lab table, working day in and day out to cure whatever "blood disease" he caught from being bitten by some sort of mutated bat. You don't know how much longer he could withstand this, because he was getting weaker. Standing beside him, you begged for him to get some rest.

"Please, Donnie, you've got to get some kind of rest or you won't get better."

"I can't. I got to find the cure before-"

He suddenly fainted. You caught him before he fell to the ground. You helped ease him back in his comfy computer chair.

“Just relax.”

You couldn't stop thinking about the feel of his reptilian skin just now, how cold it was. You took his hand to press onto your warm cheek. What kind of disease was this? And what did he mean? Before what?

Leo, Mikey, and Raph helped you carry Donnie to his room. You adjusted and tried your best to make the bed comfortable enough for him. His breathing was slow, shallow. You hated seeing him like this.

"I know. We're worried, too." Leo reassured you.

"We can keep an eye on him, and call ya if somethings up. Get some sleep." Raph told you.

"Yeah, we'll take your place." Mikey said as he gave you a hug. You hugged him back. You tried your best not to cry; you cared for the turtles but you cared a whole lot for Donnie, and if anything happened to him...

"Thanks, guys. I'll see you."

You left the lair, tears falling down your cheeks. The mental picture of Donnie's ill stricken face haunted your thoughts. It wasn't going to be easy to get any sleep at all.

💜💜💜💜💜

It's been a couple of days now (although he doesn't know yet its been that long). Donnie had long ago drifted into a long deep sleep and entered dream land. Y/N was there because she was the last thing he saw before blacking out from exhaustion. Then he remembered what he was going to say to her. Thoughts that he pushed to the back of his mind resurfaced. Thoughts of kissing her, tasting her lips, her skin... and her blood. No longer did he feel freezing cold, but felt a pain like fire and ice rushing through his veins, making him stir from his slumber.... He tried so hard to do something before mating season came... He was afraid this would happen. And try as he might, he couldnt stop thinking about wanting her, to make her his...

💜💜💜💜💜

Your tphone rung. You never rushed to answer it so quickly. "Hello?"

"Hey, Y/N."

"Donnie! You're okay."

"Well, sort of. I'm feeling much better than before. Anyway, I was wondering if you could come to the lair and let me run a test. Its just to see how this virus would infect humans. And don't worry, I'll just need a drop of... blood."

You heard him gulp before he said the word blood. There was something about the tone in his voice, like he was hiding something. But still you agreed to go to the lair and help Donnie out with whatever he needed.

"Yeah. I'll be there soon. I'm glad that you're alright."

Upon entering the lair you was met with silence. It was weird to not hear any noise. You went to Donnie's lab to find him sitting in his chair and looking into a microscope, just like a couple of days ago. He wasn't his usual green shade, but at least he was recovering.

"Y/n, please take a seat. I'll be right with you."

"Mhmm."

You sat in the chair next to his table, waiting. You expected him to hug you and felt saddened when he didn't. It made you wonder if he was really alright... After a minute or so, Donnie got up from his seat and made his way to you. You looked up at him from anxiously twiddling your fingers.

"So, what's with this test, exactly?"

"I've got a sample of my blood with this virus underneath the microscope. I'll just..." He gingerly took your hand and upturned it in his palm while with his other hand he grabbed a tiny needle to prick the pad of your finger.

"Ah~" you softly gasped and winced.

"Oh, sorry."

He grabbed a glass slide and scrapped the drop of blood that pooled at your fingertip. Then he gave a hesitant kiss on your finger and quickly went to work. You couldn't stop your heart from beating and your cheeks heating up from what just happened.

💜💜💜💜💜

When she walked through the door, her scent invaded his nostrils. He tried to keep his composure. He didn't want scare her with his sudden movements. As soon as her blood surfaced Donnie was met with an aroma so good it made his mouth water. He wanted a taste. A little wasn't going to hurt, was it?

Maybe he shouldn't have done that, because now thoughts of devouring her was stronger now than ever. He could hear her heart beating, which confirmed his assumptions.

💜💜💜💜💜

You wanted to break this uncomfortable silence. You racked your brain to come up with something, anything. "Uhm, what's up with everyone? I didn't see or hear anyone around."

"I told them to isolate themselves, in case this was contagious to mutants... and to not leave until I gave the okay..." He noticed your silence and read your mind, too.

"Oh..."

For some reason you felt like Donnie was hiding something or not speaking the whole truth. But he was studying the blood samples so maybe that's why his focus wasn't on you.

"Sooo... anything yet?"

"The virus is taking over your blood cells as well. It has vampire like characteristics. That means..." he trailed off as he stood from his seat. No, he couldn't let you suffer from this vampiric virus. However the urge to bite and drink your blood was almost overwhelming.

"It's also contagious to other living beings if bitten... and turns them into a vampire?" You pieced it all together. Donnie was bitten by a mutated vampire bat, turning him into a vampiric mutant turtle.

"Yes..." A looming silence fell in the room. "I will continue to work on an antidote, but I need to feed on... blood if I am to survive long enough to do that. I don't have enough time to create that and a substitute for blood at the same time." He was so hungry, so thirsty at the same time. He wouldn't even be able to concentrate.

“Bite me.”

Donnie whipped his around so fast to look at you with wide eyes. Did he hear you right? Did you just-?

"What?"

"Bite me. Feed off of me if you need to." you said, exposing the side of your neck.

His dark brown gaze eyed your smooth skin, hearing the blood that flowed underneath. His muscles quivered as he struggled to not lose control, to not grab you and have his way with you right then and there. Mind over instinct, mind over instinct.

“Do you trust me?”

"You've never hurt me, Donnie. Please, I just want to help you."

He let out a long exhale. He didn't realize he'd been holding his breath. "Well, if that's what you want to do, I can't stop you," he small smiled at you. "Let's take this to my room. You'll want to rest on a bed afterward."

In his room, you tried to mentally prepare yourself for what you were going to experience. Randomly you thought of what Donnie tried to tell you before he blacked out. You asked him.

"Uhm, what did you mean a couple of days ago by 'I got to find the cure before'? Before what?"

"The reason why I tried to hurry with this antitode is because mating seasons around the corner. Well, it's actually here, now. Aaand that's another reason why I told everyone to stay in their rooms." Donnie told you, scratching the back his head in embaressment. "That's what I tried to tell you before."

You knew about the mating season of turtles, and other animals, because of documentaries, but would there be any differences since Donnie is a humanoid turtle?

"Though we are mutated to be human like, we still have turtle characteristics, so no, we're no different than our non mutated kin." He answered.

You blushed. All this time while you've been alone with your thoughts since you came down here, he's known what was on your mind. "S-stop reading my mind, Don."

His mouth curved into a smirk. The way his eyes darkened made your heart pound harder. “Argue all you want, we both know you belong to me.” he softly chuckled. "I know you've got feelings for me. I... I do, too. I've been wanting to kiss you for some time."

Donnie titled your chin and he looked into your eyes. "Will you let me?" He must've noticed ( or read your mind again xD ) you looked still a little uncertain of how all of this is supposed to go. Then in an instant your train of thought was nothing but on Donnie. His gaze was just so... hypnotizing. They seemed to glow an unnatural color, but they were still so beautiful.

"Yes~" you softly replied.

He slowly and gently pressed his mouth to yours kissed you, a hand wrapping around your waist.“Lay back and let me take care of you.” You heard his voice in your mind; you knew it had to have been because his lips were still on yours.

As soon as your back touched the matress, you closed your eyes and immersed yourself in this moment. Piece by piece clothes were peeled away. He slowly played with your body, studying every curve, memorizing the places you liked being touched. "Let me make you feel good, my sweet," he'd said and you had surrendered yourself completely to him and the fire his touch left behind.

His hands cupped your breasts while his mouth took turns sucling on your pert nipples. "Donnie~~" you mewled as your body wriggled, being taken over by desire. You wanted more. You softly moaned as you arched your back, telling him you wanted more. You whimpered as he made his way to your clenched thighs that tried to ease the ache between them. "Please don't stop."

It took everything he had to not lose himself. He hungered for you in so many ways. Gently he slid your pants and underwear down and off your legs. He was met with a gorgeous sight. Your pink slit was already glossed with arousal. He could smell you. And as much as he really wanted a taste, he had to fulfill your wish. He lied beside you and then pulled your backside against him.

"I'm going to touch you, now, but I'll be gentle, okay?" he whispered near your ear. "I'm going to make you orgasm first before we go further."

"Okay" you breathlessly let out.

Donnie smoothly snaked his hand down your belly to your core. Your body shivered at the first touch on your bud. "You're wet, so soft..." Then his fingertip slid down to your opening, nudging it just a little. "And so warm..." he purred.

You couldn't help but to groan at the pleasure you were feeling now. Your body was confused as to where your hips should move: up into his hand or to arch your back and have your bottom grind against his lower plastron. You felt pressure building as he alrernated between playing with your nub and slide his finger inside you, brushing along your gspot.

"Donnie!~"

He knew you were close. His other arm looped under and up around you to cup your breast, his thumb twirling around the nipple, while his other hand pleasured you in unison. The sounds you made excited him. He could hear your heart beating and your blood rushing so fast.

"That's it, y/n, you can do it. I've got you. Don’t hold back.”

Lewd sounds escaped you as you neared your climax. Your hands held onto his arms as wave after wave of ecstasy washed over, until the final one. Your breath quickened, and you cried out as the knot that was wound up in your lower belly finally came unraveled. Your slick walls clenched around his digit.

"D-Don~ Donnie~"

"Yes, princess, you're mine. MINE.”

As you came, Donnie's fangs retracted and bit your neck, drinking your blood. The pain quickly became pleasure, melding into the bliss you were already feeling. Having his fill he licked the puncture wounds to try to close it. He felt better having blood in his system. You had blacked out from the intensity of the love making, but he held you, waiting for the process to be complete. The virus seemed to spread faster in nonmutated organisms, so maybe it wouldnt take you so long to become a vampire.

💜💜💜💜💜💜

You fluttered your eyes and found yourself in Donnie's arms. He smiled down at you, his fangs showing. You then felt to see if you had... yes, you had fangs, as well.

"How are feeling?"

"I'm a little... thirsty."

He gave you his wrist. "Here, I'll let you feed off me. Or..." He pointed to his neck. "You can bite me here, if you want." He blushed.

You giggled. "I'll just sink my fangs into your wrist. I don't want to accidently tear... anything..."

"Don't worry, I'll teach you where it'll be okay to feed from without worries."

He let out a gasp and then softly moaned when your new fangs pierced his flesh to draw blood. If this was even a fraction of what you felt, then he he wanted to experience the same pleasure he gave you.

When you were done, he rolled you over on your back. It took you by surprise but it kinda turned you on to see Donnie's smouldering gaze. He kissed you hard and you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer into you.

Donnie's fingers and tongue touched and licked every inch of you. He was making sure you were more than ready for him. Because playtime was over. And he didn't waste no time getting you into position on your hands and knees. He spread you wide and started sliding inside your soaked pussy.

You moaned as he stretched you to your limits, probably past your limits. He didn't stop until he felt the start of your cervix, pulled back and slammed back inside. It took your breath away, but as soon as you took a breath Donnie started pounding away at you. His eyes glowed whitish blue and his fangs were bared. The grip on your hips was going to be left bruised, as well as your insides, but what you were feeling was beyond anything you could've imagined. All you could do was grip his sheets and hold on for the ride.

[kiaroscuro]

Title: as the world caves in

Warnings: descriptions of violence, major character death

Rating: Mature

Main Pairing: Ren Amamiya / Arsene

Main Tags: post-canon, zombie au, angst, hurt / comfort, road trips

Warning:

· · ─────── =^.^= ─────── · ·

The snowstorm rages on, turning the countryside into a white canvas of possibilities. It is obviously unnatural, evergreen trees and black charred and frozen bark giving color to nature's destruction, fir trees and pink-blooming sakura spread across the views. The metal walls of the plane are freezing to touch, everywhere where there had been a leak or a break in the plating isolated with clothes they'd salvaged from the luggage of the long-dead passengers. The hours turn into days, growing colder by the moment, and Ren knows that neither he nor Arsene will be able to survive much longer; the persona is weak to ice anyhow, and Ren's human body with its human frailness needs somewhere substantially warmer to recover fully.

"We need to leave," he says, a week into the snowstorm. The pilot's cabin is the warmest place in the whole plane, no cracks in the glass and with a door that can shut out the draft from the the rest of the plane. They've taken to keeping their belongings there, taken to sleeping in the seats and waiting for the sky to clear again. Right now, Ren's huddled inside of Arsene's embrace in a need to preserve warmth, the persona's higher body heat a balm on his aching body. I know, Arsene murmurs, claws rubbing soothing circles into the small of his back. But going out in this weather is just as dangerous.

"It's possible that there's a city close by; we're near Mt Ena." Ren insists, burrowing his face against Arsene's cravat. They'd carefully explored the perimeter around the crash site, and with the way the cliffside gave way to an incline that became steeper the higher you got, it was their closest bet to where they were. Ren's rations would also never hold him through winter, even if they occasionally managed to hunt for wild animals.

We don't know in which direction, though, Arsene presses, because they could survive maybe a day in the cold, but not much more with how the weather kept getting worse. And we don't know how the mutated and infected react to these conditions.

"We'll have to chance it, pigeon," Ren murmurs, dreading it just as much. They could try to trek back into Nagoya, but even the thought left him repulsed; he hopes with all his heart that the Yoshizawa twins made it out by now, safe with Zenkichi and Akane. Arsene burrs. Let's wait a day more, he pleads, mask turned towards the howling winds and ice that frosted over the windows.

--

Two days later sees a weakening in the relentless assault of the weather, and Ren and Arsene set out after carefully sealing the entrance to the plane -- it was possible that they'd have to hurry back if they wouldn't find anything. They spend a moment in silence at the small graveyard the other shadows had built, Ren's thoughts in a silent prayer, before they hurry along. The plan was to go to Nagatsugawa or to Ena, though they weren't picky about where they'd end up as long as it was a larger town or city; with how unpredictable the weather was, Arsene had pointed out, they'd need somewhere where supplies would be aplenty even if they'd been raided already. Ren had agreed, seeing the logic, and they set out, carefully descending and picking their way through the snow.

It was a treacherous path to take, and they had to find shelter under an outcropping rock formation after the weather had turned bad again around noon, but they'd made it to the Ena Shrine by the dawning of twilight of the next day, soaked to the bone but thankfully without frostbite or anything worse, not having slept a wink. The shrine grounds were empty of survivors, only a lone mutated human that Arsene took care of quickly, before they settled inside to recuperate, finding old cloaks to huddle under after Ren stripped out of his frozen clothes. They had a fire going, the glow of it casting everything into a soft light as it crackled along, and civilization was just around the corner. They could probably reach Nagatsugawa by that evening if they'd kept going, but resting was just as important after almost two days straight of travel.

Ren watches the persona boil a pot of water for his meal, the snow melting into the pot until it is hot enough to add the packet of ramen to it. He's already drunk a cup of tea, after they pilfered the shrine's little kitchenette, and now he watches the contours of Arsene softly. They'd not really talked about the topic after his little breakdown a good week ago, but Arsene's touches had become more lingering, Ren's fondness growing tenfold for the persona. Once he'd deemed the noodles done, he hands them over to Ren before sitting across from him, taking out the pieces of radio equipment that he's taken from the plane.

Arsene was steadfastly hardwiring the radio unit until it becomes a portable device, in the hopes that they could reach Akane's broadcast, but between how broken the electronics had been in the plane and no present radios at the shrine it was slow-going. But it was a project to pass the time, and so Arsene continued onwards with tinkering, and Ren continued watching him fondly while eating. Once the persona is close to frustration -- and Ren's finished eating -- he puts down his bowl and scurries over to his Other Half, leaning against his side with a content hum. He's already feeling much better than the whole last week combined, the everlasting cold finally seeping out of his bones again now that they were close to a fire. "How's it going?" Ren asks, cheekily.

Arsene huffs. I need actual tools to finish this -- we should look for a hardware store once we're in the city proper. And a clothing shop for a scarf for thee.

Ren hums. "Sounds good to me," he agrees, enjoying the warmth. He shifts the cloak around until he can drape it over Arsene's shoulders as well, and the persona's fire blinks out in surprise before he helps adjust it, winding an arm and a wing around Ren in silent thanks while they continue to sit in companionable silence, waiting for the fire to die out. At one point, Arsene's claws start drawing little shapes into Ren's unhurt side, careful of his still-tender shoulder. Ren sighs in delight, snuggling closer against the persona's side, mentally cataloging the patterns and brushes. Arsene's claws wander up to his shoulder, ghosting over the lighting-strike, before they dance over his upper arm, only to fall to his side, scratching against his skin and tugging his sleeveless shirt along. They wander lower, just shy of the hem of his loose sleep-pants and over his hips, before retreating upward in pitter-patter motions.

By the fourth time, Ren's noticed that Arsene's hand keeps ghosting lower and lower each time, once pushing past the band of his pants, once trailing along the edge until they find his stomach, splaying open in a possessive motion just underneath his navel, and suddenly he finds himself holding his breath as the atmosphere shifts to something closer to what it had been in the Morimiya's apartment. Ren imagines those deadly and yet tender claws ghosting lower, imagines Arsene's hands at his cock with the same gentleness as when the persona had dried him, but with much more intent, and for the first time in a long while he finds himself twitching in interest.

Arsene hums, shifts them around and closer, his wing pressing softly against Ren's side where the cloak doesn't, and then he withdraws his claws, previous possessiveness turning into a gentle hold with no intent behind it. Ren almost whines, and the persona boffs a laugh. Eager, are we? He asks, tone fond, and Ren twines their fingers together against his stomach. "Mh," he says, eyes half-mast. "I wouldn't mind."

Ah, but I would, mon coer. This is just about as unsuitable as the plane had been, dear. Thou deserve all the good things.

We could be out in the snowstorm and I wouldn't mind, Arsene, Ren chides, but by now the moment has passed and he's too comfortable besides to do anything, his persona's fondness echoing through Ren's chest like cotton-candy. But only if you want to, Ren adds, a haunted echo just behind his lowered lashes.

Arsene thrums, squeezes their fingers together. "My little thief, I've wanted to ever since we've left Konoe's."

Ren blinks his eyes open in surprise. "Really? You could've..." he trails off at another thrum.

"You're just about the only thing I could never forgive myself for rushing." Arsene admits. I've been so terrified of loosing you, there would've been no time for anything anyways. And you weren't ready besides, he adds, canting his head until it rests on top of Ren's, the lower edge of his mask digging into his skull. Ren didn't mind it. Arsene grows quieter, the flames on his mask dimming from what he can make out. I'm still not certain you're ready now.

Ren laughs. "Me neither, but I want to-- I want to try, at least."

Oui. But not today; not here on the floor of a temple.

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[lilytii]

I was thinking about writing a fanfic scene between my Tav Estelle and Astarion, and then I had all these little headcanons and I felt I just wanted to post this! It starts in Astarion's POV, though there are a few in her POV as well.

The Way We Love

Astarion POV

"Our love, my dear, is like the wild unpredictability of the night. Chaotic, fierce, unyielding, unapologetically honest, and simply maddening. It's a reflection of the world we've known, and I wouldn't dream of it being any different."

"It's in the way you stifle a laugh after one of my jokes, even the lamest ones. Your quiet, knowing pause speaks volumes."

"Your quick-witted sarcasm always keeps me on my toes, and I wouldn't have it any other way."

"Your determination and the unwavering assurance in your eyes when you speak up - people believe in you, and I've found myself among them."

"The adrenaline coursing through your veins as you rush into battle, your fiery fighting style – it thrills me, especially when you wear that cheeky smirk covered in the blood of your enemies."

"You've had my back from the beginning, even when you had every reason not to. You trusted me and treated me like anyone else."

"The moments when you lean me into your neck as I feed from you are both intimate and strangely comforting."

"Our ability to push each other's buttons and engage in our little banter, with that wicked grin of yours, is something I've come to cherish."

"Our more questionable antics may raise eyebrows, but they've brought us closer in their own unique way."

"You've never judged me; you've accepted me, flaws and all. Your understanding means the world to me."

"Your confidence in me, even in my weakest moments, has made me view myself differently. You've helped me see my own strengths."

"Your support for my choices, and the knowledge that you're behind me every step of the way, gives me a sense of security I've never had before."

"When you feel safe in my arms, resting your head on my shoulder, it's an honor I never expected."

"When you fall into my arms, I feel like I'm home, like I'm safe."

"The feel of your lips on my skin sets my blood on fire, igniting something deep within my soul."

"Your submission to my touch, the soft cries of my name, they're more captivating than any siren's song."

"Your willingness to understand and meet my needs speaks of your devotion."

"Your joy for life and boundless enthusiasm, even in the mundane, infects me with your zest for living."

"We always manage to infuse a bit of chaos into the most ordinary moments, making them extraordinary."

"You see me as a person, not just a broken one. You helped me find the strength to break my chains, even when our methods don't always align."

"Our journey together is a thrilling dance of chaos and challenge, and I wouldn't trade this for anythibg else. I choose this dance with you."

Estelle's POV

"Our love is a turbulent clash, akin to fire and ice, forging a powerful connection that leaves a trail of smoldering emotions in its wake. I've come to know tranquility, faced heartache, and found the missing piece of my soul."

"The way you look at me with love in your eyes, even when I'm being ridiculous."

"The way you have accepted my scars, without judgment. You see me, the real me and not the twisted beast that torture has turned me into."

"The way we can argue but still come back to each other at the end of the day."

"In the way you enjoy life and all it has to offer."

"I love the chaotic laugh when you're bathed in blood."

"It's in the way you talk of our future, together. You see me at your side when speaking of your dreams."

"It's in the way you hold me in our embrace, making me feel safe."

"It's in the way that you try to hide your jealousy when another seems smitten with me, even if you're failing terribly."

"In the way you leave your mark upon my flesh for any and all to see- and your proud little grin at the fact."

"In the way your fingers trail across my back when we're alone."

"Its in the way you whisper my name. Saying it as a prayer."

"It's in the way you do everything to protect me. Woe to any of the foes who dare lay a hand against me."

"It's in the way we've discovered our own intimacy, reclaiming what had been taken from us."

"It's the way others sneer when they see us together, because they don't understand us."

"It's the way you leave, making me long for your return."

"It's your cheesy and poetic way of speaking."

"It's in the way you see me as your partner, your equal, your lover."

"Our love, perhaps not everyone's cup of tea, is a beautiful chaos. Untamed and unrestrained, passionately intense, and, most importantly, it's genuine and exclusively ours."

[dixoniisms]

➵ daryl understands more than most, the need to prove to oneself that they can make it on their own - to not relying on others. had the archer not met the group that he did in the survivors from atlanta, in rick, in the greene family... he'd probably still have that mindset himself. though, he considers for a second, if he was still like that, he likely wouldn't have offered to help her out of the good of his heart. a mental shake of his head, the archer is glad for the people in his life that helped him learn to open up - even if the constant risk of losing those he loves remains.

for a brief second, her question elicits a peek of that hard exterior, that more feral part of daryl that raises it's hackles at people questioning his choices - that bares fangs at being reminded that he's possibly lost his family. but he's good enough at reading people - he has to be, the way he grew up && the way the world is now - to know that she doesn't truly mean anything malicious by it. there's a... vibe to her words, that reminds him of how his own words can be rough && full of teeth more often than not. daryl is not soft-toned like carol, or truthfully caring like glenn - the way clare talks, is familiar - daryl can handle words veiled with a barbed tone.

he puffs out a breath at her insistence she can take care of herself, sharp hunter's gaze dropping to the blood dripping down to the ground from her fingers. he gives a grunt, that says he clearly knows better but he'll respect her need to be okay. he moves after her, easily catching up && keeping pace - crossbow held at the ready in rough hands, the archer keeping an ear trained from childhood to catch sounds on the forest - seeking out anything, a shuffle, a footstep, the crackle of a walkie talkie - but also taking in her words. blue eyes glance over to her, before he steps over a fallen log. "if y'got something we can cruise away in, all the better." he looks off for a moment before deigning the noise he'd heard nothing more than a spooked rabbit or squirrel. "heard the name tossed around a couple times among different groups. ain't someone y'wanna get tangled up with, what i can tell."

dixoniisms​:

➵ daryl isn’t at all thrown by her reaction to his words. he’s met plenty of people as fiery as she is, && as the world goes on - he’s meeting more && more who have a bite as deadly as their bark. it’s clear by his posture, by his expression that he doesn’t mean any insult by his words. being tough these days is a lifeline, at times - he’s simply a blunt, rough around the edges with an occasional lack of knowing how to word things.

he raises a brow, opening his mouth a little to reply when he sees it click - what he’s said. he lifts a shoulder at her questioning, adjusting his crossbow as he makes sure neither walker nor human is too close for comfort. the way she refuses to even consider for a moment that someone might be offering help just because there are still good people in this world - it reminds him of rick, after the jail had fallen - how he had been so ready to take out aaron because he didn’t trust anyone.

a brief scrunch of the nose, the archer looks back over to her - blues lifting under the fringe of messy brown hair to meet her gaze. “daryl,” he murmurs. “not particularly. been fine on m'own this long. i just ain’t a dick. ain’t someone who goes after someone hurt jus’ t'get supplies or last another day longer.” it’s not that he openly trusts others - he’s always aware of the risk of offering aid. it’s simply just not in his nature to be cruel like that - it’s become part of who he is, looking out for others. or perhaps he’s always been that way, && it’s taken the world ending for him to learn that.

There were times, grim and torturous, where she wished she could truly be what she presented herself as. To cut down anyone without debating about it, where greed, selfishness, numbness to suffering around her can’t get its sting through the hardened core. If nothing, it would be convenient for this time where dead roamed the earth and the worst threats came in a shape of ‘ friendly ‘ human being. With each kill, silent prayers to her own soul were recited, to become blind to the difference between right and wrong. It never happened.Giving, in any meaning, was served cold but with good intentions. No matter that it always ended in the same way – being left empty handed and on her own. 

Clare didn’t lie when she stated she is not looking for another warm body to follow her around, let along form a group. Help – was it in a form of providing medicine, supplies or assistance, never wanted nothing in return. Making deals, that was for her own sanity to be preserved. To know, to be prepared, it is always an exchange of some sort, that she didn’t belong no where and made no connections that would survive without the fuel of ‘ returning ‘ the favor. Answer Daryl gave, send a slight ‘ earthquake ‘ through that ice lands of her believes.

 Usually, she would form a simple answer ‘ Actions speak louder than words do. ‘ but what actions has she to judge? Joining her for the hunt, providing the gun so without which she would probably not be alive in this moment and now asking nothing in return, just silently following to makes sure danger does not follow not only him, but her as well. Confusion was not a cage the redhead felt comfortable in, even more so, it raised suspicion… or at least the ‘ sinister pet ‘ bared its fangs towards this unusual situation, reminding her the last time she lowered her guard, took a seemingly friendly hand that ended being the hand that broke the last bridges she had towards ever trusting a living soul. However, somehow. . . Clare swallowed the harsh refusal, contained the growing need to once again shove someone away. Even for a little while… 

“ Clare. “ silent answer left two cherry colored lips. “  Did these good intentions got you where you are now? Separated from your people, Daryl? “ Tongue sampled his name. The way she spoke always seemed temperamental, but it was a barb-wire that was there as a precaution. No ill-will, hard to believe, but true. Before she could continue, a feeling of weakness began to eat away at her legs. She wanted to break away from the shackles, but the warm blood under her thin fingers made it clear that with an empty stomach, dehydration and fatigue, she would not be able to run for long in parallel with her steel will. Weakness,she didn’t want to show it at all. “ I can take care of myself. “ it was necessary to get those words out. “  But if you are hell bent on following me, I’ll rather know about it. “ Carefully, the legs were set in motion again. “  Staying here is a no go. Walking..either. “  delicately were the next words formed. “  And we..don’t have to. I might just have something that will get us far enough from this mess. “ Recalling the name those guys with guns used, she thinks for a minute. “ Heard a name, Negan. Mean anything to you? It seemed that guys were not very happy but still following his will to be out here. “