#And Tracker would be Annoyed

[banannabethchase]

For the prompts fae dating fluffy please.

Fake or Date?

~

There was no ship attached so I created one based on something that has been tickling the back of my brain for a while now. Set in a universe I've been thinking about where the Time Quangle was manipulated by a group of billionaires, but one extra was created so all the Intrepid Heroes get sent into New York to defeat the billionaires.

~

“This is the worst idea you’ve ever had.”

“It is not!” Fig hisses, yanking at Adaine’s arm. “See? People are already paying attention to us more than anything else in here. Riz will be able to get in and out of that family’s restaurant in minutes.”

“I am unsure anyone is going to be that interested on the two of us going on a – a – a presumed date in that douchebag’s restaurant,” Adaine says. She wants to reach out and grab Fig’s hand, but she’s not sure if she’s allowed to. Even if this is al supposed to look real.

“The douchebag's parents’ restaurant,” Fig corrects. She boops Adaine on the nose and, frankly, it’s a little startling. Adaine’s not used to be prodded like this, in a romantic kind of way. She’s not sure how she feels about it, which is strange all by itself. Usually she hates it. “Come on. Hold my hand.”

Adaine feels herself turn a bit pink, all the way to the tips of her ears, and it’s hard to walk into the restaurant even though people are talking. Maybe that’s actually why it’s hard. “Or,” Fig says slowly. She slides her arm around Adaine’s waist and leans in, lips at Adaine’s ear. “Ayda likes it when I hold her close when it’s busy like this.”

“Should we really be discussing your girlfriend while we’re undercover as going on a date?” Adaine whispers. Fig’s hand is incredibly warm. It’s cozy.

“Ayda would love to have you on board, if you were up for it,” Fig says, and it’s so casual Adaine almost misses what she’s really saying. She’s stunned enough that she allows Fig to guide her to the little table, right in the middle of the restaurant, and enough eyes are on the two of them and hostess as they sit that no one even notices Riz duck into the kitchen. “But anyway,” Fig says loudly, “I’m so glad you agreed to come out with me. One date, and you’ll see.” Fig winks.

And Adaine, who rarely has this reaction, feels something uncommon but not fully unknown, flutter in her stomach.

[little-klng]

look honestly the thing no one really thinks about with the content of the stupid wizard game (prof fig dies and rookwood cursed anne while framing the goblins btw) is that the game itself isnt transphobic beyond like... one single trans character having a dumb name. like, its not directly transphobic aside from the royalties going to jkr get put straight into trans eugenics legislation, but we already knew that and its not related to the games actual content or why it exists. it doesnt matter that the game sucks, that its buggy and barely functions, that it funds transphobia, it doesnt even necessarily matter that "there is no ethical consumption under capitalism" (not what that means and it doesnt even apply here). primarily it serves one function, pushing radf*ms (censored to avoid tags) further down the radicalization into alt right, qanon, and neonazi pipeline

the game is marketed mainly to transphobes who will throw whatever amount of money at the first thing some shitty childrens book author who fell off 10 years ago and currently floats her career and reputation on ragebait says will "own the libs/troons". while it doesnt contain any actual transphobia (just promising to fund it), the main message, themes, and story are explicitly pro slavery and antisemitic, and are designed to put you, the player, in the position of a "master race" that has "the right to own slaves" and the slaves "love being enslaved" except when "the hook nosed bank controlling elite" try to "convince" the slaves "to rebel against their masters" in an effort to "destroy and take control over the whi-[COUGH]wizard race". its just blanket coverage over every white supremacist and neonazi conspiracy belief and then gamifying it for the enjoyment of transphobes. and because jkr juices up her fandom on the ragebait so hard that she gets them hungry for whatever political statements shes gonna feed them next, they're just gonna eat that shit up because "troons mad"

we all already know transphobes are just conservatives with a stupid feminism hat, we already know their basis for hating trans people is one singular step away (and most of the time not even that) from white supremacist eugenics and phrenology. you take one single look at "transvestigators" and realize just how bad it really is with them and demanding exclusively eurocentric "pretty and femme" white standards of beauty to even be considered a passing cis woman, its not even subtle. this game doesnt actually have any of that, its just the end piece of the pipeline getting installed for turning transphobes into qanon neonazis, turning their hatred of trans people and trans activists (or basically just anyone who doesnt pass their specific idea of eurocentric traditional gender/sex) into hatred of anyone who isnt "pure" white and christian, which just feeds straight into the "master race/slave race/elite controller" ideology that nazism comes from. transphobes playing this game dont talk about the slavery or the weird way the plot centers around putting down a civil rights movement or the way it belittles "lesser races" for wanting "their worthless artefacts [sic] back" (goblins and their "horn for rallying troops and annoying wizards" with a wedge of cheese shoved in it to mute it, anyone? thats a shofar, which is a jewish rams horn trumpet used during high holidays)

"pureblood"/"mudblood" is already an established part of wizarding world lore as "pureblooded wizards" vs "nasty mixed-blooded wizards", which is already white supremacist anti-interracial bullshit that jkr fully and unironically roots for. this is the same woman that named her only black character "Kingsley Shackebolt" and wrote a slave race to actually love being enslaved and not mind seeing their taxidermied friends heads on the walls getting decorated with santa hats over the holidays. its not surprising that shes a nazi at all, and i feel like all the people who are (rightfully, dont get me wrong) talking about it funding transphobia are not giving the antisemitism/nazism/pro slavery portions of the content enough credit in making this game evolve from "shitty childrens media IP game that barely functions and would be irrelevant by next week" to "$60 ticket on the radf*m to slave cop nazi pipline that is steam+ps5's most preordered game of all time".

its to radf*ms and transphobes what tucker carlson is to your parents, and what rush limbaugh was to your grandparents, and what turning point usa is to your college frat siblings, and what ben shapiro is to your highschool debate team cousins. shitty content designed to make you mad and slowly melts your brain until you're a paranoid wretch that cant stop seeing The Elite Agenda(tm) everywhere you look until you're willing to drop thousands on donations to anyone and anything that promises to protect your freedom to say slurs on the internet and make teenagers kill themselves for being weird. its just not often that it skips a lot of the dogwhistling and just straight up gives you an escapist fantasy where you're a part of the aryan master race and those stupid pesky slaves keep asking for "freedoms" and "equality" because all those evil jews keep trying to tell them what they're missing out on by not genociding white people instead, and you get to violently murder as many as you want to preserve the status quo

tl;dr transphobia is hand-in-hand with alt right conservatism and nazism and this game is just one more stepping stone added to an already decently clear path between the two points. if you paid $60 for a game that barely works because "troons mad", your dignity is pathetically affordable and its no ones fault but yours that you're officially the type of person who would pay money for the ability to own your own slaves and kill jewish people the first chance you get. did you know nazis during the 1930s and 40s offered financial rewards to people turning people in to the government? just thought that was an interesting fact

btw dont reply to this post with some bullshit "well im gonna pirate it so its fine" or "you're just making it more popular by talking about it" im a tumblr blog with less than 1000 followers and its the #1 most preordered game on steam and the ps5 store, and if you insist on still playing master race slave owner simulator through piracy then its whatever, i can just put you with the hundreds of transphobes on my blocklist so you can get along and play together in a nice farm upstate and away from me

[juliaqueendragon]

The Cows in Hollow Woods>>>>>>>The Cows near Starshine Ranch

(I stole that second picture from @sshadovv because I didn't have a screenshot of the Cow in the Lake)

how about.... cows from star stable online..... tee hee.....

star stable is technically a horse game so. idk if any pictures of the cows theyve got will come up in search. but i can provide them if needed,,,

VIDEO GAME: STAR STABLE ONLINE

FEAR NOT I FOUND EXACTLY ONE IMAGE OF A COW THAT I REPEATED TWICE SO ITS NOT TAKING UP A LOT OF SPACE! REJOICE!

i love. ilove love lovelovelove calves with their horns coming in they bring me joy i cant properly express. im so happy. aaaaaaaaaahggggggg

PERSONAL RATING: ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ 5/5

[catgrandpa]

I need a fic where Bruce realizes this kid who shoved his way into his sidekick roll will not be leaving anytime soon, and instead of emotionally distancing himself he becomes a combination Helicopter Mom and Shotgun Dad.

☆彡

Tim: Bruce, I’m headed out to meet my friends at the mall.

Bruce: Is that Kent boy going to be there?

Tim, rolling his eyes: Yes, Kon is going. And so is Bart, and Cassie, and maybe Bernard if he can make it.

Bruce: Hnn. Do you have everything? Coat, scarf, keys, wallet, tracker, pepper spray, dagger, kryptonite shard, emergency beacon, first aid kit, fire starter, extra pair of-

Tim: Yes, Dad! I already went through the list with Alfred. I’ll be fine.

☆彡

Kon: Hello Sir! I’m here to pick up Tim!

Bruce: Follow me.

…

Bruce: Sit down.

Kon: In your study? Is Tim on the way, or…?

Bruce: I just thought you might need reminding of the fact that I have a vault downstairs full of items specifically designed to take down a Kryptonian.

Kon: Whuh?

Bruce: You should probably ask your father about the time I was slightly annoyed with him for encroaching on one of my cases.

Kon: Why are you telling me this?

Bruce: Now just imagine what would happen if someone were to hurt my darling little boy.

*door opens*

Tim: Hey Bruce, Alfie said Kon was here, have you seen him? Oh! Hey, why are you two in here??

Bruce: Oh, hey sweetheart, we were just chatting. Have a good time at the carnival!

☆彡

Dick, pouting: I don’t understand, you’re not this protective over who Jason or I date.

Bruce: Don’t be ridiculous, Jason and I may have our problems, but he would never betray me by gallivanting off with someone I disapprove of.

Dick, who covered for Jay sneaking out to visit Roy Harper just last night: Mhm yeah, sure. And you’re not worried about me?

Bruce: Chum, I’ve known who you were going to marry since you were 12 years old.

Dick: WHAT?

Bruce: I have the whole ceremony already planned. I’ve got Gotham’s best wedding planner on standby. You have a very nice house waiting for you both, 20 minutes from here. A modest 7 bedrooms on 5 acres of land.

Dick: I’m not even dating anyone?!

Bruce: I can’t wait to meet my 3 grandbabies:)

[arolesbianism]

Fighting for my life to find more swap au songs that arent abt wx or Walter

[zylev-blog]

Jazz is Special Agent Fenton of the FBI. She doesn’t go by Fenton when she’s out on a case though; she uses Nightingale. She does this because it keeps her identity secret.

Jazz is investigating a series of crimes. One of the other agents goes undercover to try and set them up in a sting operation. Things go south and now Jazz is going to Gotham to view the murder scene.

When she gets there, GCPD try to stop her at the crime scene barrier. She flashes her FBI jacket and her badge and is given access. She walks over to the police commissioner, a man named Gordon. Gordon obviously doesn’t recognize her, and neither does the vigilante with him—Batman.

“This is a closed crime scene, Miss…?” Gordon asks.

“Nightingale. FBI.” She shows Gordon her badge. “You and your men can clear out. This is our jurisdiction now.”

“We haven’t gotten approval to—“ Gordon stops, but was interrupted by an officer walking over to Gordon and whispering something in his ear. “Fine.” Gordon grumbled, and started telling his men to leave.

“You too, Spooky. I don’t need a vigilante’s help.” She waves off the man without another thought, but Batman doesn’t move. Instead, he completely ignores her and starts walking towards the crime scene. “Obviously, you didn’t hear me.” Jazz scowled. “If you don’t leave, I will remove you with force, Batman.”

Batman turns to look at her. “That isn’t how things work here, Agent Nightingale.”

“It is now.” She kept her expression neutral. “Clear out, or be removed. Your choice.”

Batman tried to look intimidating. Jazz refused to bow. The two stared each other down before Batman took another step towards the crime scene. She reacted instantly. Pulling out a taser, she placed it on his back before he could even react.

He reacted quickly, and sent three batarangs at her in rapid succession. His movements were a bit slower than normal after getting tased. She dodged two of the batarangs, and opted to catch the third in her hand. She flicked it away lazily and cracked her knuckles with a small smile. “I love it when they choose force.”

Batman didn’t react to her comment. He seemed to understand he wasn’t going to be able to get around her without a major fight. He let out an annoyed grunt and grappled away.

Three days later, they meet on the roof of an abandoned building. It seems like Batman was still on the case after all. Jazz was not happy about it. She felt that he was going to ruin the entire operation. She couldn’t trust someone to have her back if they didn’t show their face. She doesn’t let the annoyance show on her face as Batman joins her at the edge of the rooftop.

“I thought I told you to stay off my case, Batman.” She said quietly.

Batman gave a quiet grunt. If she had to put it to words, it would translate to a ‘I do what I want.’

She didn’t speak to him again, but she didn’t kick him out, either. The two didn’t speak a word as they sat for two hours, inspecting the warehouse across the street. It was nearly morning by the time Batman left. She did make sure he left, too—she watched him grapple down the street and heard the roar of the Batmobile pulling away before she breathed out a sigh of relief.

Watching the building was doing nothing. She was going to have to get closer. She was going to have to go undercover herself. The thought didn’t make her any happier, even with knowing what happened to the last agent that went undercover for this operation. She also knew that to keep her tracker on her at all times, she would need to shove it inside a place that nobody would look for it. And boy was that uncomfortable.

Two days after she met Batman did she meet Brucie Wayne for the first time. By now she had been undercover with the modeling agency for a day, and it was going well so far. She was playing her part perfectly, but it could take weeks for them to trust her enough to give her information that she needed to know.

She had been hired to be arm candy for a wealthy man in Gotham. It wasn’t Brucie, though she knew he had a few models on his arms as well. She had gotten through most of the night without incident before she ran into Brucie. Quite literally. Brucie’s champagne spilled down her dress, and she gave a mock scream of outrage.

Brucie tried to clean up her dress, but she swatted his hands away and went to the bathroom to clean up. She never noticed the tracker that Bruce put on the nape of her neck. When she came back out, she noticed her date looking for her. She rejoined him and the rest of the night went smoothly.

A month into the operation and she finally was getting some results. She had been moved from building to building more than once, but she finally got breadcrumbs for what she needed to take them down. It took her another three weeks after that to gather all of the evidence she needed.

At the final takedown, she was joined by none other than Batman. She had half-expected him to show up after she noticed the tracker on her neck six hours after it was placed. She didn’t know when she had even run into the Batman at a stuffy charity gala. She had debated crushing it, but she didn’t have backup and she figured his help was better than nothing. She still didn’t trust him, though. She made sure he knew that, too.

Bringing the tracker up to her lips, she whispered, “Don’t you know it’s rude to listen in on a lady, Batman?”

Together, she and Batman took down the traffickers. They had been using models and trafficking them all over the world to be used as sex slaves. She feels a certain satisfaction while watching everyone be escorted out in cuffs.

“Nice work.” Batman says, figure tall and dark.

She hums. “Thanks.” The silence stretches on for a few minutes before she adds in, “Thanks for having my back.”

“I thought you didn’t need a vigilante’s help?” Batman teased.

She didn’t look at him, but she could hear the teasing on his voice. She smirks and crosses her arms. “I don’t. But you’re harder to get rid of than a ghost in a net.”

Batman didn’t respond back to her, and it takes her a few moments to realize what she had said. She was of course, referencing her parents ghosthunting activities. But he didn’t even know her real name, so how would he even know what he was talking about?

“When do you leave?” Batman asked.

“After everything’s wrapped up. Why, you going to miss me?” She finally turned to look at him. She wished she could run facial recognition and figure out who was under that mask. The psychologist in her wanted to know just why a man would put on a bat mask and fight crime.

“I have a case that could use your input.” Batman deflected her question.

Was that a compliment from the Batman? His way of telling her that he trusted her opinion? Or was it an olive branch?

“Mine or the FBI’s?” She already knew the answer to his question, but she wanted him to say it.

Instead, he just grunted in annoyance. She rolled her eyes and pulled a card out of the pouch that she kept her FBI id at and handed it to him. “That’s my office phone number.” She tapped the card with her finger as he held it. “If you want my personal cell, you’ve got to earn it.”

He nodded and tucked the card into his utility belt. She could see the beginnings of a smile from Batman as he disappeared into the shadows and grappled away.

Surprisingly, it only took Batman a week to call her. She had gotten settled back into her office in DC, and had mostly forgotten about the encounter. She had to report Batman’s appearance in her report, but beyond that, she didn’t have to explain that he helped her take down the ring.

She made a flight back to Gotham the next day. Batman brought her into the Batcave and told her everything she needed to know about the case. She didn’t know where the Batcave was, as Batman had blindfolded her, but she was impressed with his initiative.

“Im not wearing that.” She glared at him with all of the venom she had—which was quite a lot.

“You can’t go out in your FBI jacket.” Batman deadpanned.

“Wasn’t planning on it. Do you think I’m a rookie?” She shook her head and gestured at the costume that the vigilante had made for her. “That doesn’t give you the right to—to—ugh! Im not your Batgirl, or Batwoman, or whatever! I came out as a consult. I don’t dress up in latex, and I don’t wear costumes!”

The costume itself was gorgeous, not that she’d ever tell Batman that. It was solid black, had a red bat on the front of it, and was fully equipped with a utility belt, knife holsters, and a taser. It had a full cowl like Batmans, along with the pointy ears on top.

“I don’t see the problem.” Batman’s voice had undertones of offense in it.

“Look.” She gestured at the costume. “Im honored, truly, that you want me to watch your back. But I’m not a vigilante. Nor will I ever be!”

She had watched what vigilantism had done to Danny, Sam, Tucker, and Valerie over the years. Sure, she’d gone out with them more than once. Without a mask. But there was something more complex about the costume sitting on the table in front of her.

“You said you were going to help.” Batman’s gruff voice got closer as he took a few steps towards her.

“And I did.” She gestured to the Batcomputer. “I already gave you my opinions of the case. I dedicated a weekend of PTO time to be here. But this is as far as my help goes.”

“What about the last operation? You owe me.”

“Owe you?!” She exclaimed, thumping her finger against his chest. “I told you to get lost. You still stuck around. You could’ve cost me the operation!”

“It worked.”

She groaned in frustration. She was close enough to him now that she could smell the faint smell of Kevlar and aftershave from him. She rubbed a hand down her face as she thought over what had happened last time she was in Gotham.

“What about all your other winged vigilantes? You had uh.. Nightwing, and Robin, right?”

“It’s only Nightwing.” Batman responded. “He’s unavailable.”

“I could’ve sworn you had a Robin, too.” She looked up at him and noticed the stiffness of his body.

“Robin has moved on.” Batman replied.

Hmm. Touchy subject. She wasn’t going to push. It wasn’t any of her buisness.

“You must be really desperate if you’re trying this hard to get me to go out in that.” She smirked.

“Things could go wrong.” Batman said with a quiet sigh.

“Don’t they always?” She tilted her head.

“Not always.” Batman mimicked her actions, clearly studying her. “What will it take?”

“If I put that mask on,” She gestured to the table behind her, “You take yours off.”

“No.”

“Fine. Deals off, then.” She pulled her phone out and immediately started looking for flights back to DC.

“Why?” He questioned.

“I can’t trust someone who won’t tell me who they are.” She shrugged.

Batman let out a quiet growl. As he took his cowl off, he scowled. “You would know, wouldn’t you, Miss Fenton?”

“Holy shit.” Her eyes got wide.

Bruce Wayne was the Batman.

[lazycats-stuff]

Hi idk if you're taking requests rn but can you please do if possible batfamily x male reader who's younger than dick but older than jason and he is really shy around batfamily because he came to the family after damian idk if this makes sense and while out on patrol an enemy injects him something that turned him into a toddler but he still has all his memory the rest is up to you im sorry if this doesn't make sense😭

It's fine, it makes perfect sense, don't worry my dear anon. I know exactly what you mean. Did I use this GIF before? Yes. Does it work in this context? Yes. And did I use this GIF for a story before where I also wrote about a shy reader? Yes.

Summary: (Y/N) is shy around his family. That is until he is turned into a toddler.

Warnings: shy (Y/N), (Y/N) is turned into a toddler, not a lot of bad warnings, besides mentioning Bruce being stabbed for the purpose of this one shot.

(Y/N) was always shy, even before Bruce adopted him. But that shyness completely intensified when he was adopted into the family. He was younger than Dick, but older than Jason, which would put him somewhere in the middle. If only he didn't come after Damian came into the family, it might have been easier.

Coming into a new family where there are already four siblings and you are the fifth one... It's not easy to say the very least. Meeting new people is not easy and (Y/N) always struggled with being shy and just over all... A bit overwhelmed. More often than not, (Y/N) could be found with a blush on his cheeks. Very quiet too... Feeling self conscious more often than not.

Bruce tried to make his son more comfortable. So did the other boys. All of them in their own ways. Bruce talked to (Y/N) about becoming a vigilante. Which (Y/N) thought was a good idea. But due to his shyness... (Y/N) was very hesitant to do so. He didn't want to impede anyone due to his shyness.

Bruce promised him that they could work on it and at the same time train to go out on patrol. Bruce wanted to make sure that (Y/N) is fully prepared to go out. Sometimes, (Y/N) could overthink a lot of things and Bruce wanted (Y/N) to just trust his gut feeling. Go with your gut, trust yourself.

Of course, an overthinker overthinks everything and that sometimes makes it a bit more difficult to function. Of course, overthinking for a while when it's your first few times being on patrol is normal, you are trying to get into your rhythm and to get the initial nerves out. But the problem is that (Y/N) is a chronical overthinker. So Bruce made sure to shadow (Y/N) all the time.

Bruce made sure to instruct his sons to do the same. To make sure that they shadowed (Y/N), just for his safety. (Y/N) didn't mind it, but he would like to have a tiny bit of autonomy and a little bit of confidence in himself.

His brothers were sympathetic to that, but Bruce's orders were still standing. And Bruce did know that (Y/N) was getting a bit restless and annoyed as he couldn't have some independence. But Bruce wanted to be sure that (Y/N) could take care of himself if he was alone. And after numerous conversations with Bruce, Bruce relented and (/YN) was happy to have a little bit more autonomy.

Bruce was still worried of course, but knew that (Y/N) could take care of himself. Just like all of his children could. But Bruce is always worried about all of his children. So, he made sure to put a tracker in (Y/N)'s suit.

Just in case, Bruce told himself, trying to ease his guilt of doing this.

He knows that he couldn't tell (Y/N) because he would freak out at Bruce. Where's the autonomy if you have a tracker? And (Y/N) was happy to be trusted enough to go on his own...

Bruce was caught in the middle.

Bruce was sitting in the Batcave, taking a night off due to a stab wound. And Alfred might have threatened him with certain things if he even thought about going out on patrol. So Bruce decided to be on the Bat computer, offering support for his kids and for them to go out on patrol alone, without him as physical backup.

It was all going good, but it was a full moon. And far too quiet. And Bruce knew that something was bound to happen. And he was right. But he expected one of his kids to be hurt. Maybe something broken.

Not (Y/N) being turned into a toddler. Bruce nearly fell out of his chair once he got told what happened. It was an up and coming villain, one that Bruce didn't want to see in Gotham city. He didn't know that the enemy was dabbling into stuff like that. He stood in shock as Dick was holding a little toddler, wrapped in Damian's cloak, since the suit was far too big on him now. The suit was in Damian's hands.

" Is (Y/N) okay? Do you know what his cognition levels are? Toddler or what? "

" I'm still a teen in my mind. " (Y/N) said quietly and Bruce sighed in relief. He didn't know how he would feel if he had an actual toddler in here. He has no experience in raising one and Bruce didn't think that he could even handle on. Bruce gently walked forward and took (Y/N) into his arms, trying to calm down his nerves.

(Y/N) was okay. That's what Bruce wanted to hear. He's okay. Not dead. Not harmed... Bruce sighed in relief as he held his son close to him. His shyest son, the one who overthinks everything, the one who often blushes...

" Are you okay? Are you hurt anywhere? " Bruce asked softly and (Y/N) nodded, seemingly not wanting to talk. Bruce didn't mind it. He could work with nods and shakes.

" Alright, lets find some clothes for you and then Alfred will feed you and then off to bed. " Bruce said to (Y/N), who nodded, happy to eat something.

Alfred watched in silence, still shocked, but soon recovered from it.

" I'll make you your favorite master (Y/N). Come on, lets go. " Bruce put (Y/N) down and (Y/N) walked over to Alfred, reaching for his hand. Alfred smiled as he led (Y/N) up to eat something.

Bruce then turned to his sons.

" Did you manage to catch the guy? " Bruce asked and everyone shook their heads.

" He got away. He was just within my reach. " Jason crossed his arms, looking pissed.

" It's okay Jason, don't blame yourself. Once I'm fully healed, I'll help you two. For now, we need to locate the enemy and ask him for how to reverse the affects. But for now... I'll enjoy this time. I've never had a chance to raise any of you as toddlers, " Bruce confessed and everyone chuckled.

That much was true, they were all older and no one came in when they were toddlers, they were more closer to teenage years. So Bruce would really like to enjoy this period.

Can anyone blame him?

And that's what they all did. They enjoyed this time with (Y/N), Bruce more than the others. Bruce enjoyed how much smaller (Y/N) was and the fact that he could carry him in his arms. Thank God for Bruce's workout plan. And the money to get all the things necessary. Thank God for that.

(Y/N) became a bit compact with the transformation so whenever he got nightmares or got scared in general. Bruce seemed to notice that fear intensified. More often than not, (Y/N) would climb into bed, seeking comfort in his dad. Bruce never minded. How could he? No one else minded either.

It was oddly nice to have a toddler in the home. And while yes, (Y/N) still has his memories as a teen and is not as whiny as a toddler would be so it's not a fair comparison per se, but still. They liked it. Jason loved teasing more than anything in the world. (Y/N) hated it and often whined about it like a toddler would and it made Jason even more amused.

Dick enjoyed this stage too. It's nice to have someone so small around here for some reason. Tim simply buried himself into work to find the enemy. Damian didn't know where to stand on this issue. While he loved his brother even before this, although never showed it outwardly, he wanted his older brother back.

Because this messes with your mind. You have an older brother who was got turned into a toddler. It messes with your perception too. Damian was a little bit freaked out a little bit by it. Okay, not a little, but still.

And yes, (Y/N) was annoyed being a toddler. Being too small to reach anything, Jason teasing him, everyone treating him like a baby... He's had enough of it. He wanted to get out of this little body as soon as possible.

He wanted to be back to him old self.

And that wish was granted when he has seen Bruce smiling after patrol, showing him a serum.

" This will bring you back to your old self. "

(Y/N) sighed in relief. Thank God.

[normal-thoughts-official]

It's actually insane how brave Wyll is when it comes to Mizora. Not only by not killing Karlach but also all the small ways he defies her - calling her an asshole, saying she's full of shit, even when Mizora is literally choking him he's still telling her that she's a liar. Whenever she shows up it's pretty much guaranteed that she will have to threaten him with lemurehood because he simply refuses to play nice. Even if it accomplishes absolutely nothing and in fact is actively dangerous to sass her

And like. Of course this ties in with how Wyll has pretty much nonexistent self preservation skills and a sense of moral fortitude so strong he can't even pretend to not be hostile towards her. But i also think it ties with Mizora's obsession with him

Because while we all know Mizora is evil and annoying on principle and all that shit, she seems to be particularly interested in tormenting Wyll. I have to assume shit like putting a tracker on him and showing up randomly just to spite him and staying in camp just to be annoying even after the contract is over are Wyll specials, because if she did this to every single one of her warlocks then she would have time for nothing the fuck else. And we know from Karlach that she's generally more worried about sucking Zariel's toes, so

(Also, I've been told that in early access she was like... Straight up jealous if you romanced Wyll, so, again. Obsessed with him in particular)

I always got the impression that she was so evil and annoying to him because she was overcompensating. Mizora is a cambion, which means she's half human, which means that in Hell's hierarchy she is fucking trash. Even the official cambion lore states that they are often rejected in both realms and struggle to earn one of their parents' approval. And it's obvious that in Mizora's case she's aiming to be accepted in the Hells.

I've seen some people claim that Mizora is too cartoonishly evil, and while that is objectively true... I think it works precisely because it's so cartoonish. I'm thinking particularly of how she describes her home in the Hells being all "oh, how I adore it, the delicious agony of it all". It's so over the top it's eyeroll worthy. I don't think Zariel herself would be Like This about it

In other words: Mizora is a tryhard

And Karlach even implies that Mizora resented her because she was Zariel's favorite, which is why I think Mizora's tryhardness was intentional as opposed to just a lazily written villain. She wants to fit in the Hells so bad it makes her look stupid. And she never will, because no matter how over the top she is about being Generically Evil, she is simply not that powerful or important.

So she overcompensates, and then she uses Wyll as her punching bag. If her own superiors will always see her as vermin, then at least she can cope with that by treating others that way as well.

But like I said, she will have no time left to suck Zariel's toes if she spends all her time tormenting every single warlock under her patronage, so the question is: why Wyll?

Obviously his unwavering goodness is the biggest reason. His soul is already damned and yet he refuses to be selfish with the time he has left on the material plane. Mizora can own him, but she can't corrupt him, and that makes her hate him. The fact that even despite her best efforts he is still recognized and beloved as a hero has got to sting too, considering she tries so fucking hard to be the Evilest Cashier In Hell or whatever. And the fact that he still manages to belong in his world (however isolated and lonely he obviously is) despite his connection to hers and she can't belong in her world because of her connection to his... Well, jealousy is to be expected.

But I think his refusal to play nice with her also plays a big role.

There's the obvious "this makes her resent him even more" factor; if Mizora wants to feel superior, it must piss her off to no end that Wyll refuses to bow to her, even if he does her bidding.

But, paradoxically, this also makes her feel more powerful.

Because at the end of the day, she does own Wyll's soul, and he does have to do her bidding, even if he doesn't go quietly. And the fact that he hates her so openly makes it all the more satisfying to have him do what she wants anyway. In Wyll's words, "the more bullshit she pulls, the more [he's] forced to swallow". His hatred for her is exactly why she wants him so bad, even though she obviously hates him just as much.

And so this is why she's so desperate to get Wyll's soul back, and why, even if he breaks the pact, she still makes it a point to stay in camp just to fucking spite him. Because Wyll is the only warlock that actually makes her feel appropriately Powerful and Evil, if we assume that her other warlocks are simply not as good aligned as Good Alignment Georg or even just don't want the trouble of spiting her for no reason. She can be obeyed and tolerated and maybe even revered by the other warlocks, but only Wyll can make her feel like an absolute, inescapable power. Because the other warlocks choose to obey her. Wyll makes it clear that he has to, and thus, she feels like she is mighty.

And obviously I know that the whole "person who has it all is obsessed with the one person who doesn't obey them" trope is a well known cliche, but I think Mizora and Wyll's dynamic is unique in that Mizora doesn't actually want to make Wyll bow to her and respect her as an authority; she wants him to fight back so she can feel like she's winning.

(And, of course, because Mizora doesn't actually have it all; she's just a petty errand girl who wants to feel special)

So, yeah. Wyll's incredible bravery in constantly defying her is exactly why she is so eager to keep him

[eggcats]

Funny addendum: Non-AU Alastor also believes this.

Like imagine, for whatever reason, canon Vox is at the hotel and he's bitching about Valentino, and Alastor is nearby because he doesn't like or trust Vox alone in HIS hotel.

Vox: And then the fucker said that he only sleeps with 10s AND Vox! That absolute bitch, how DARE he?! After everything we've built!

Alastor, confused: The distinction makes sense. I fail to see how THIS is the thing you take fault with, considering everything else lacking in the moth.

Vox, mortally offended that his rival-crush ALSO thinks he's ugly and trying to pretend he doesn't care about it: uh, FUCK YOU?!

Alastor, now both confused and offended: If he included you in the scale, no one else would rate a 10? Although I suppose it is true about what they say about television rotting the brain, if your offense is taken at a rare show of consideration and NOT the publicized and continuous cheating. Ha ha!

Vox is so caught off guard that his screen immediately glitches, and it's not until he does a full system reboot that he can even RESPOND to what Alastor just said.

Alastor is making fun of his flimsy technology when Vox comes to.

Angel is cracking up in the background, watching this entire thing go down.

Vox has no idea where to go from here.

In my AU, Alastor absolutely believes his thoughts about Vox are, like, objective fact and not opinions because CLEARLY anyone can SEE that Vox is the prettiest, best, most charming and beautiful mate in all of hell which means he HAS to be on the lookout for anyone trying to steal Vox from him because obviously everyone wants him

(I mean, is he wrong, tho? Exactly)

Alastor will just say the most unexpected romantic compliments to Vox without even thinking about it because he doesn't even register them AS compliments or flirting or anything, he's just stating objective facts - meanwhile Vox is overheating and needs to reboot his system

[pirateprincessblog]

2 batteries away

𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫.: if he can choose to spend time with someone else rather than you, daryl would do it. not because he hates you. he simply doesn't have any type of connection with you. and you are so young. but when rick demands that you join him on a scavenge hunt, he doesn't have much of a saying into it, and chooses to act unbothered. he also chooses to ignore the way you tease him the whole trip, your hips swaying just a bit more when walking than usual. 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: daryl dixon x female reader 𝐬𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: alexandria, pre-negan 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 5k 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: big age gap, reader is half daryl's age 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: voyeurism, masturbation, breath-play, subtle ddlg, toys, subtle dacryphilia

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: swearing 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: i am on season ten of twd (my first time watching) and it feels like this man's clothes keep getting tighter and tighter each episode and i am so here for it. also the way his arms magically always glisten in the sun as he subtly flexes when the camera is on him? give me a break I BEG

Also I miss Rick very much 🥺

*

"i have a special request. if i'm allowed to do that." a playful voice calls behind you.

you turn around, squinting. the sun is high up in the sky, and right in your eyes. you make out carol's short hair, and nod at her as a sign to keep speaking.

"i'm gonna need something i can make cookies or cakes with. hazelnut, chocolate, almonds,... you know. cake stuff." the woman smiles.

"i'm going out for ibuprofen and possibly viagra, not chocolate."

"viagra? for who?"

you chuckle under the cap rosita has given you, and try to subtly glance over at the man loading the car with weapons. he grunts, glaring at you and instantly shutting down the bullying party you wanted to start.

"i don't need no damn viagra." he slams the trunk door shut, and walks past you, intentionally pushing his shoulder into yours.

you fall a step back, holding in a laugh. carol has her hands on her hips, but her laugh isn't hidden. she knows daryl can't say anything to her.

"oh, come on. i know that you like to stay quiet and mysterious, but a little joking in hard times never hurt anybody." the woman defends you, scrunching her eyebrows at daryl.

"it's hurting me." he yells from the car, slamming the door shut.

"how am i supposed to survive this trip with him, ricky?" you complain, shoulders hanging with rising irritation with the situation.

"you survived a walker flooded prison with nothing but an axe before you found us on the other side, and you're telling me you can't survive a grumpy old man for a few hours?"

"thing is, i killed walkers. i cannot kill him. boo-hoo, the precious tracker. i also, when i see a footprint on the floor facing a certain way, know that someone is headed there. wild, right?"

rick pats your head, messing up the cap in the process just to tease you.

"bring me some shirts on the way back, i'm getting sick of these flannels. and get yourself something nice."

one would think that he gave you his credit card to buy him those shirts at the nearby mall. telling you to get yourself something nice, that idiot. the less fun truth is that you are headed towards a landfill two hours away from alexandria, in hopes of finding anything. glenn and morgan haven't had any luck for a few days now, so rick decided to change the route and the team. daryl and you, apparently, make a great one. that pain in the ass of a man.

"i'm leavin'. you stay and talk 'bout me all you wan'. i'm the one actually doin' something for this place."

"stuck up much? see," you open the car door, sitting inside annoyed, "with the viagra, you'd be a much more pleasant person to be around."

"enough with the damn viagra. fuck's the matter with you?"

"god, just start driving and drop me off somewhere in the middle of the road and i'll find my own shit from a different place. rick doesn't need to know."

"no," he simply responds, not sparing you a glance.

rick waves at you with a smile on his face, knowing damn well what he did putting the two of you together for such a long quest. he's so going to hear from you tonight. if you make it out alive while trying to kill daryl.

"so, what are you hoping to find? booze, peanut butter, new clothes? i'm starting to think you stapled those clothes to your body."

he says nothing, eyes focused on the road. you sigh. maybe you're the problem. you're poking him too much, knowing he has zero patience and doesn't very much like your company. you decide to keep quiet for the rest of the drive, only occasionally glancing over at him out of boredom.

you can't lie, he is an attractive man. you don't know why you're mean to him. he is gorgeous to you, your taste in older rugged men not failing you. you're surprised rick isn't the one you fell for. but next to daryl, he looks too... neat. daryl is just perfect. most of the time his deep raspy voice has you subconsciously rubbing and squeezing your thighs, led by a tingling sensation in your lower stomach. his clothes have recently gotten very tight on him, the buttons of his black shirt threatening to pop and give you a view of your lifetime. he has been working out a lot, you've seen him. fuck, not only have you seen him, you also stayed there, secretly snapping pictures with your polaroid your father had left you before disaster struck. you only had a few films left, yet no self control. something about seeing daryl all sweaty as he did push ups, grunting and almost moaning, thinking that nobody can see him, did things to you.

"wha'?" he asks, sensing your intense gaze.

you turn your head away, flushed. "nothin'."

"mmh."

he keeps it short and stern, and if your panties weren't drenched as your brain replayed the memory of his glistening arm muscles, you'd probably make a sassy remark. he raises an eyebrow, probably also wondering why you aren't being mean for so long now.

"shoes." he says after some time.

"what?" you ask, absent-mindedly staring into the tall trees and the walkers hidden among them.

"i'm hoping to find some shoes. it's gettin' hard to walk in these. i also hope i find sum more arrows."

you nod, surprised that he has actually graced you with an answer. you thought he'd say something like cigarettes or alcohol. you hated people who smoke. but daryl is an exception. he looks damn hot doing it.

"you?" he asks.

"well, new underwear would be nice. i ripped all my good panties, and let me tell you, these thongs are not apocalypse friendly."

"shit, girl, oversharing much?"

"what, you disgusted by female underwear?" you poke back, playfully.

"not female underwear. your underwear."

you're offended. you squint at him, and have to fight the urge to smack the back of his head.

"for your information, you don't look or smell all flowery and fresh yourself. i could use your hair to grease up carol's tray for her cakes. and your fingernails? they have their own ecosystem at this point."

and back to the bickering it is. he grunts again, furrowing his eyebrows. he secretly glances at his fingernails. indeed, they had a layer of dirt under them, but daryl thinks that he has bigger issues than some dirt that will get washed off anyway.

"oh, i also wish to find-"

"yeah, lost interest." the man interrupts. "also, for future conversations, you do not mention your... thongs... to people that are ol' enough to be your father."

ew.

ew.

ew.

he did not.

"what, is that how you see me? you could be my father?"

how utterly disappointing. there you were, sitting next to him, imagining him going feral between your legs, all while he is viewing you as his child. there goes your masturbating material for tonight.

"well the age fits the description."

"fuck you. seriously." you sigh, turning your body towards the window so you can fully ignore him.

arriving at the gates, you immediately notice a few things that you will be taking home. how foolish of you to not take a truck instead of the crusty old car.

"watch it." just as he says it, an arrow passes by your head, followed with a loud thud.

you don't have to look back to know that a walker had managed to sneak behind you, while you were foolish enough to stay swooning over his arms glistening in the sun with sweat.

"damn it, girl, i don' know what it is with you, but you gotta snap outta it. i can't keep saving ya ass."

"yes, dad." you reply, annoyed.

"hey." he calls, hand reaching to cup your jaw and turn your head towards him. "shut it before i make ya."

if it weren't for the feeling of his rough hand on your face and his raspy voice sending you a warning turning you on, you would've slapped him and told him not to touch you. but oh, you were going crazy inside. you found a new way to push his buttons, and you're going to have so much fun with it.

you walk behind him into the landfill, the smell of junk pinching your nose. daryl is also bothered by it, seeing his scrunched expression as he scanned the first piles of garbage.

"there." he points his crossbow a certain way.

you follow the invisible line, your eyes landing on what seemed to be several taped boxes. they could have three things inside: food, weapons, or traps. weird how nobody has discovered this place yet. or maybe they have, and they took all valuables already.

daryl doesn't wait for you. he makes his way towards the boxes, keeping his crossbow ready if something goes wrong. you, on the other hand, have tucked your knife safely and are walking around like there isn't walkers scratching at the fence, waiting to sink their teeth into your skull.

"dammit."

you hear rattling. you turn around, only to find the man kicking the boxes angrily. the can he has just thrown on the floor rolls up to your feet, and you crouch down to examine it. it is food, but expired. eating it would be like playing russian roulette.

"i mean, we can still... ya'know, take it with us. what happens happens."

"dixon, if i'm gonna die, i'm gonna die from a bullet or a bite. not from a rotten macaroni."

he raises an eyebrow at you, amused with your laid back attitude. he doesn't give you much attention, just silently walks next to you while scanning his side of the landfill.

"ah, sweet!" you cheer, running towards a pile.

"wha'?"

you almost trip over the broken wooden chairs, trying to get to a certain little box in the pile.

"the hell are ya doin'? we're losin' time!"

your eyes instinctively roll at his voice. you know he has nothing smart to say. finally reaching the box, you jump back on the floor, eagerly opening it. seeing that the item still has the foil sealed on it, you victoriously raise it in the air, cheering.

"you have made it a goal for yourself to die today, didn't ya?"

"nah, not anymore. i found something that will keep me occupied and will fuel my will to live a little longer."

you continue your way forward, leaving daryl to stare at the box you have discarded, trying to figure out what it is. but he has decided he has no time for your immaturity. he needs to ask rick to not ever put him with you on a hunt again. he's lost a lot of time already, and hasn't found a single thing to bring back.

"clothes." you point, the pile of fabric sitting on top of a garbage hill.

"you gonna go get 'em?"

"why would i go? you go."

"you wanted your... thongs... so, you go get that."

you scoff, setting the newly acquired item on the ground and slowly climbing up the hill.

"what is this, anyway?" his curiosity wins.

you sit on top of the pile, examining the clothes and discarding the ones with holes in them.your eyes dart to the man below you, and you chuckle when you see him crouch and take the item in his hand.

"it's a wand."

"wand?"

"yes."

"for?" he keeps pressing, his eyes never leaving the pink gadget.

"masturbating."

thud.

you look down, mortified. he better not break it.

"careful with that, what's the matter with you?!"

"you're fuckin' crazy, girl."

you silently mock him, sticking your tongue out at him and repeating his words with exaggerated face expressions. he really gets on your nerves. you gather the clothes you have found into a bed sheet, tying it up and putting it over your shoulder, then pick up the gadget from the floor. it seems alive, it didn't break. you only hope it works. you're young, inexperienced, surrounded by people that are either too young or too old for you. though, the old part never was a problem for you, it was for them.

feeling bored, you decide to keep poking him. he is just so grumpy, and silent. and inviting to irritate.

"so, dixon, you've never heard about one of these?" you wave the gadget in front of his face.

he spares you a glare, and continues walking.

"come on, we're talking. nobody's around. tell me, since all of this started, how many times have you even approached a girl? do you even mastu-"

"'m not in the mood to be picked on right now."

"i'm not picking on you. i promise. just trying to converse."

"you want to be useful? hold this. it's in my way." he throws his vest at you, now only wearing a tight black t-shirt.

you scowl at him, shoving his vest into your backpack.

"you're so fun to be around. i get why rick put us together."

he grunts, leaving you behind. rolling your eyes, you go down a different path, hoping to find something useful to all of alexandria and not just you. turning a few lefts, you find yourself standing in front of a little shed like structure. you bang on the door with your foot, and when hearing no growls, you bravely enter. it is dusty and dark, with a singular armchair and a few cupboards.

you open each one of them, happily shoving all the food you managed to find into your backpack, opening a protein bar along the way and chewing on the oats and dried fruits. you missed having those with yogurt for breakfast.

not only will carol be happy with the amount of nuts and flour you have found, rick will be proud of you. you might even ask for a reward when he sees the amount of canned tuna and jam you have found. you forgot what pancakes taste like.

after clearing the room, you peek out the window. daryl is in the distance, going through piles and kicking stuff out of his way, as if playing. you've collected way more than him, and the sun is at it's highest point. the shaded room seems like a perfect place to take a nap, or just rest your feet and ears from him.

you plop on the armchair like a star washed up on the shore. it feels so lonely lately. rick has michonne, carl has enid, rosita has her boytoys, even gabriel might be having more fun than you. as wrong as it was, you stay up listening to the noises coming across the street. they're loud, there's no way you could ignore them even if you wanted to. even rick had to step in and ask them to be quieter. but what is a problem to someone else is a solution for you. is it wrong to touch yourself while listening to someone else fucking? yes. but is it the only way that works for you? also yes.

you eye up the toy that peeks from the backpack, then glance out the window. daryl is busy with his crossbow, having found something that he could use on it.

fuck it.

you unbuckle your pants, not bothering to take off the panties. your fingers are quick to pop the batteries that come with the package in the gadget, and when the lid clicks, you admire it for a second. there it is, in all its glory. waiting to be abused every day by you, until you find a replacement. hopefully a softer and live one.

taking off the thin protective foil from the head, you position yourself on the armchair. you glance at the window again, carefully monitoring daryl. now, if you thought that eavesdropping and touching yourself was bad, what was this? watching daryl's fingers work on his crossbow, arms glistening in the sun, all while the pink toy softly vibrates on your pulsating clit.

you sigh at the newfound pleasure, rubbing the toy up and down your slit, while your eyes stay focused on the man unaware of your situation. he probably even forgot about you. or is thankful that you have left him alone. even better for you. you get to be a pervert without him ever knowing.

you arch your back, throwing your head on the backrest as you focus on chasing the release. it's been awhile, it won't take you long. your eyes open again, just enough to see if the man is still in his spot. your fingers change the vibration strength on the gadget, and instantly, you gasp. it is so intense, and so much, but you don't want it to stop. this thing is your new best friend, you better get used to it.

something else peeks out of the backpack, the leather catching your attention and giving you an idea. like an animal in heat, you grab the vest, burying your nose into it and spreading your legs further. daryl's scent takes over your senses, making you lose control and become a moaning mess. you are getting wetter by the second, the toy now slipping up and down your slit with ease and giving you maximum pleasure.

"fuck- daryl-" you can't help but gasp, enveloped in his manly scent and fabric.

your hips hopelessly rub against the toy, chasing and chasing after something that isn't quite getting closer, even though it feels like it.

"the hell?"

your eyes widen at the interruption. you drop the vest in your lap, hiding the crime scene from him. the man stands at the door, expression unreadable. yours is one of horrified mixed with desire, the way he stares down at you angrily sending arrows to your core.

"daryl- i- did you, uh, find anything?" you try to play it off, foolishly.

"yeah. i found an animal in heat it seems. couldn't wait for alexandria to do that shit?"

"I-"

"is that my vest?"

he slams the door shut, leaving you two in darkness. you gulp, moving the gadget from your core and letting your panties fall back in place.

"i'm sorry, i'm sorry-" you stutter, failing to put a sentence together while he intensely glares at you.

"ya ain't sorry." he grunts. "ya know why i despise being around your ass? you're inappropriate."

"no, look," you try, but he points a finger at your face, making you close your mouth.

your eyes burn, tears announcing their arrival.

"it's not like that-"

"shut up, dammit! i'm talkin' now! do you have any idea in how many uncomfortable situations you've�� put me? all those snarky dirty comments, all that flirting, now this? do you understand what that does to me?!"

he's yelling, frustrated and angry with you. but why are you getting wetter? why can't you think rationally? he is scolding you for being inappropriate, and you continue to be even more inappropriate by sexualising simple yelling. not your fault he looks damn hot while he does it, though.

"you're- you're half my age. i can't allow myself to play your games, no matter how tempting."

what?

"what will alexandria think? they already have no good opinion on me. engaging with someone half my age the way you want me to engage is- it is a horrible idea. i'll be out faster than i was in."

silence swallows the room. you still lay on the armchair, half naked with his vest covering you. he paces around the room, fingers running through his hair as he tries to gather his thoughts. you think whether it's time to finally say something, but you wait another moment. you need to gather your thoughts too.

tempting, he said. so he thought about it too. he saw past your jokes, and has been controlling himself so well. if only you knew what it would take to shatter that control, even for just a moment.

"since when do you care what other people think?" you start.

"since rick chose to trust me."

you hum, understanding.

"listen-"

"so you've been thinking about it." you're the one to interrupt now.

his head snaps up, looking at you with his eyebrow raised, as if asking you where you're going with that statement.

"there's nothing wrong with it. it's not like we're getting married or something."

"i'm older than you. way older than you."

"so?"

"i could be your father."

"if you say that word to me one more time i swear i will turn this landfill upside down to find another sex toy to shove up your asshole."

"why do you get so triggered by it?"

you roll your eyes, looking anywhere but at him. you press your thighs together, missing the warmth and buzzing from earlier. fun killer.

"because."

"why?"

"doesn't matter."

"tell me," he presses further.

you finally look at him, frustrated. "because i have fucking daddy issues and the thought of you being so much older than me turns me on. there."

you get up from the armchair, putting his vest on so that you can cover yourself. it almost reaches your knees, hiding your body from his gaze. he says nothing, and does nothing for a few moments. you have your back turned to him, hands resting on the counter of the half chipped kitchen cabinet. your head hangs low with embarrassment from the confession that just left your mouth.

tears stream down your cheeks, luckily hidden by your hair. but daryl doesn't miss the little sniff that comes your way. he sighs, then paces around the place a little more. when you don't hear him anymore, and finally face the fact that nothing will be the same with him anymore, you dare turn around. you almost gasp when you come face to face with him, his chest pressing against yours.

"wha- what are you-"

"shh..." he hushes you, eyes roaming your face.

you aren't sure what to do, or what he wants to do. if he tries to comfort you by giving you a hug, you will break down. and you will never face him again. you thought it was only sexual, but the way he looks at you and hushes you as you cry is awakening new emotions inside of you. ones that you will push down for now, because it is not the time.

"daryl, i'm sorry." you hiccup, genuinely feeling sorry for ruining whatever you had with him.

you feel his hands on the back of your thighs, and before you can react, he picks you up and places you on the counter. you instinctively spread your legs, letting him in closer.

"don't be. or else i might regret this."

you look at him doe eyed as he places his hand on your neck, gently holding you just beneath your jaw and softly pressing into the sides of it. he brings his head close to you, eyes half closed as he stares at your lips.

"daryl." you whisper, not sure of this anymore.

"just hush."

and with that, he presses his lips into yours, softly moving them with rhythm only known to the two of you. his other hand caresses your thigh, then creeps to your bottom and pulls you to the edge of the counter, enough to have your crotch press against his.

you can taste your tears while you kiss him, and he probably can too. he doesn't say anything, hell, you even feel him twitch between your legs. you grind on him, unable to control yourself. it is different than the wand. it's warm, and it responds back. it's better.

"hey," you call, slowly pulling away. "i don't want you to do this because you feel sorry for me or something like that. are you doing it because of that?"

"nah."

before you can continue bombarding him with questions and overthinking, he places his lips back on yours, this time a little rougher than before. you open your mouth, tongue eager to taste him properly. and fuck, he tastes good. you hated cigarettes and alcohol, but from his mouth, you adore it. you finally give in, arms wrapping around his neck and pulling him impossibly close. finally.

it doesn't take long for him to have you whining and grinding on him, wanting more than just kissing and thigh grabbing and occasional choking. you beg into his mouth, quietly at first, but with each kiss he gives you, you become louder and more demanding.

"touch me, please, please, please," you're desperate.

he smiles, for the first time in a while, and snakes his hands under your top. you hurriedly take off the vest and the top, to make it easier for him, but he pulls his vest back on your body. you are now wearing nothing but panties and the leather vest, making daryl incredibly impatient.

"ya just needed some attention, didn't ya?" he kisses your neck, his hand cupping your breast and thumb playing with the hard nub. "some sense fucked into ya to shut that mouth."

for someone that almost never talks, he is quite the talker now. and you can't complain, when his words have you clenching around nothing down there.

"needed someone older to take care of ya."

you moan at his words, spreading your legs further and raising your hips into his crotch. his hand reaches down to your panties, landing a light slap on your clothed clit as a warning. there's growling outside of the shed, but not enough to make you care. you'll get what you want, and no amount of walkers will stop you, even if it'll be your last.

daryl moves your panties aside, pulling away from you to see you. he hums, thumb coming to contact with your clit and circling it a few times. you shake under his touch, throwing your head back. it isn't something you haven't done before, but the touch is foreign, and different. his fingers are rough and big, an opposite of the soft flesh of your clit. he rubs your slit up and down, enough to smear your arousal so he can touch you better.

"fuck..." you trail, grabbing the edges of the counter and digging your nails into the hard surface.

"didn't find a boy your age to open you up?"

you shake your head. he hums again, fingers now circling your tight entrance.

"that's a shame, then. i'm gonna have to take my time with you."

"what? why?" you ask, disappointed.

"i'd split you in half, little one."

every word in that sentence sent arrows to your core. fuck, just how big is he?

"then, what are we doing?"

he turns around, leaving you yearning for his touch while he grabs your discarded toy from the armchair.

"you share toys?"

"sometimes."

"good."

he pulls himself out from his pants, and you are left with your jaw dropped. it fuels his confidence, the way you're staring at him as he rubs himself up and down. he isn't big. he's huge.

"daryl, how will that fit in me?" you ask, actually concerned.

"it'll take a little time. i'll train ya, and you'll take it like a good girl, the way i teach ya. but ya have to start listening to me and stop pissing me off."

nodding eagerly, you push your hips towards his hands, searching for his touch again.

he turns the gadget on, pressing it against your clit. you moan out loud, grinding on the buzzing toy and sliding with ease. you hear him grunt, and even a quiet moan. your eyes drop to the situation between your legs, and when you see him pressing his cock to the gadget, you swear you could squirt all over him. he rocks his hips with yours, pushing you up against the wall and grunting in your mouth, just like you moan into his. he doesn't break eye contact with you, instead getting off on it.

"i'm gonna cum, daryl." you whine, hands reaching into his hair to pull.

"give me a second."

you'd give him two if he wanted. you try your hardest to focus on not yet cumming, but the way he sweats and grunts for you doesn't make it easy.

"daryl-" you warn, moans becoming high pitched and inviting the walkers around the shed.

he sticks two fingers in your mouth, keeping you silent and helping himself get closer. you only needed to swirl your tongue around him a few time and take him all the way to his knuckles to have him moaning and cumming all over your stomach, rubbing the toy up and down in a sloppy pace.

you follow, pleasure washing over your body along with a thin layer of sweat, the sight of his seed on you making it more intense. you are dehydrated, hot and filthy. and you love it, because he is the same. you'd be like that every day, if it meant getting him the way you just had him.

"you didn't have to..." you say as he helps you dress up, wiping his seed from you with his bandana and discarding it.

"i wanted to. before, today, too."

"you sure?"

"yes."

you nod. he sees that you are not convinced, and he sighs. he pulls you in for a hug, resting his chin on the top of your head.

"i rarely regret my actions. trust me."

"yeah, well, i hope i'll get more of these actions you speak of."

he chuckles, planting a kiss on your forehead.

"you know, for someone who just came all over me, it's weird to see you so sentimental and comforting."

you don't even finish the sentence, he already playfully throws the bandana at you, rushing outside to hide his smile and to hide from your attempt at attacking.

"oh, you- you- you asshole!"

"right back at ya."

***

yippie! my first twd oneshot, idk how to feel about it lol. had this in the drafts for a while now. feel free to send feedback, doesn’t matter if it is good or bad 🩷

[theglassofmiddleearth]

Just a little turned around.

Honestly, it wasn’t as if Y/N was defenceless.

It just so happened that on this one damn day, some asshole had managed to pickpocket her pouch. Not her wallet (that was back at the hotel), not her phone, just her money pouch, which contained the currency of the foreign country she was in. Being prepared and somewhat responsible, Y/N had only put in a day's worth of money into that pouch. In fact, it amazed her how he hadn't gone for her passport or even her phone. No, just the thing that would be most inconvenient for her.

Staring a hole into the ground, she pressed her fingertips to her forehead in an attempt to calm herself down and gather her thoughts. She had chased this slippery bastard all the way to this street where he turned the corner and into a dead end. Then he-, wait.

Y/N straightened up and her eyes darted around frantically. Where was she?

Nothing was familiar. A cafe on the cobbled stone street, a flower shop and a bakery. None of which she had seen before.

Wonderful, now, as well as having no money in a foreign country, she was bloody lost.

“Fuck me dead and sideways till Monday morning.” She huffed, while once again rubbing her forehead with her hand. Honestly, at this point, nothing could particularly get worse.

“That coul’ be arranged!” An accented voice called out from behind her. Scottish perhaps?

“Has a mouth on her.” Another replied in amusement while another voice just grunted in acknowledgement.

Y/N turned around to spit back a witty retort that quickly died on her lips.

“Uh..” She stuttered out intelligently.

Three men, each a prepossessing sight. One was wearing a cap, a blue denim jacket and some black jeans. He was brown eyed and dark skinned, nothing short of a model. His friend was leaning on him, crossed arms, a short mohawk, blue eyes, scruffy looking beard and a cheeky looking smirk. He donned a biker jacket with the small Scottish flag where his breast pocket would be and seemed to be wearing dog tags over his grey t-shirt. The last of them was a hulking man dressed fully in black, his face was obscured with a face mask akin to those of celebrities, however his presence was less of a star and more intimidating. Almost menacing. Maybe he was their bodyguard?

Y/N shook her head and replied,

“Yeah no thanks mate, I’ve got a bit on my plate at the moment, maybe in another life?” She nodded at the three before turning back around and walking towards the coffee shop.

“Oi, Bonnie, we can help ya if ya need. Besides, yer lookin' a bit peely wally.” The man with the mohawk called out.

“What the bloody hell are you on about mate.” Y/N asked, bewildered clearly not understanding the Scottish man's accent.

“ He thinks you look pale.” The large figure behind him rumbled helpfully.

Y/N blinked,

“Is he saying I look sickly?” She turned around and glowered at the man.

“No love, what we mean to say is, you look like you need some help?” The man with the baseball cap stepped forward carefully, as if not to spook her.

“Well, unless you’ve got a tracker dog, a body bag and a large metal pipe, I don't think you’re going to be much help to me.” She crossed her arms defiantly.

“Tha’ can be arranged bonnie.” The mischievous looking man grinned, stepping up while the man behind him followed while giving a non committal grunt.

“I’m Kyle, the annoying one is Johnny and that’s-”

“Simon.” The masked man grumbled while the other two threw a quick look at the third man.

She wrinkled her nose.

“Y/N, pleasure to meet you.” She nodded at the men before sighing, “Alright, I’m here for a holiday, trying to feel out if I wanna move out here for work. I was just takin’ a look around when some asshat came up and fell on me and grabbed my money pouch.” She spoke quickly, somewhat embarrassed that she was admitting to three strangers that she had been duped so easily.

“Ah lovie, unless you remember what he looks like or what he was wearin’ s’ gonna be hard for you to get it back. Do you remember how much you had in there?”

She shrugged, “It was meant to get me lunch and dinner before I checked out of my current hotel to find another one. The rest of the cash is in my hotel room.” She hung her head and sighed.

“Honestly I just need to find my way back and then I can sleep over things. I can skip a meal or two.”

“Gonny no dae that!” Johnny exclaimed, “Yer look like yer already skippin’ meals lass. We’ll take you to lunch and dinner! We got nothin’ ta do anyways!”

The one dressed in all black, Simon was it? Grunted out an agreement.

“You ain't gonna find much around here. You’re not far away from the military base.”

“Whaddya you say love? Let us show you around?” Kyle hummed, cocking his head akin to a begging puppy.

Y/N quirked her lips in thought. Would it be a smart move to let these strangers escort her around? Was she hungry enough to make a questionable decision?

“Well…”

“We’re not strange men, we promise miss.” The taller Brit offered.

“That's exactly what a strange man would say LT.”Johnny quipped, earning a light bonk on the head from the taller man.

Y/N shoulders relaxed when they saw the playful display of banter between the men. Surely this meant they were safe. Right?

[sweetheartbitesb4ck]

part one || part two || part three || this is part four

The weeks following your first 'date' with Simon were full of going on little walks together, but most of all? The pings, to say the least. He would text you so often it came as a shock to you he even had a job. You found it amusing, sure, maybe even annoying, but you hadn't anticipated the sheer silence when he was 'away with work', as he put it.

You had guessed that meant deployed or something of the sorts... and it worried you, yeah, but your feelings for him were still new and you didn't want to get hurt if anything was to happen.

You'd been excited when he'd promised to write to you a few days before he left, but as the days flew by with nothing more than some bills, bank statements and late birthday cards dropping through the letter box it occurred to you that Simon Riley had been too blown away when he first saw you in your house to remember the road name, and far to drunk when he first spoke to you to remember the number on your front door.

So Simon sat there when he wasn't fighting or in briefings and had downtime (which was rare) writing letters he knew he couldn't send away, partly because it was a risk to send stuff away and partly because he would just blank on your god damn address every single time.

He didn't even have his phone because of something to do with trackers and intel and it was all a bit of a fuzz of unconfirmed information that Simon had explained to on a walk a few days before his departure.

This is what worried you. You obviously knew the dangers, and you two weren't even 'official' yet, but you would have liked to be updated. You couldn't help but feel a bit sick when your mind travelled to the horrors his job could boast.

Prior to his deployment, you and Simon had got to know each other a little better, which only made your nerves worse now you had more of a bond, plus you had gotten to see the less flustered version of him. You'd mostly talked over the phone but had also gone on a few walks together. It felt weird; missing someone you'd so quickly fallen for. You could only hope as the days blurred into weeks then into months.

Then, two months later, Simon was back. He'd been resting and getting medical support for a day or two before he journeyed home, and his first thought? It was to retrace his steps down that one road to that house with the open window that had changed everything. He could have slept, unpacked, done anything, but all he wanted to do was to see you.

You groan as you hear a knock against the door... you'd just about drifted off after hours and hours of tossing and turning, your head reluctant to rest. Trudging downstairs, you pull on a hoodie over your pyjamas. "Who the fuck..?" You murmur, clicking on the hallway light and unbolting the door, ready to dive back into bed.

"What?" You grumble as you swing the door just a crack open, your eyes widening and breath hitching at seeing that tall frame and skull mask. You slam it shut, fumbling to unlatch the door and burst it open, flying into the bulky man's arms and screaming.

Simon grins under the balaclava, stumbling backwards slightly as you bounce onto him. "You alright?" He asks, his voice so nonchalant even as you wrap your arms around him. Probably still trying to seem cool for you.

You pull back, face still covered in shock. "Fucking alright? That's all you have to say?" You cry, voice a few pitches higher than usual. "Fuck, Simon... you said you would write!" You mumble, leaning back in to hug him. Part of you wanted to say there forever, holding him there and squeezing him as hard as you could, but you knew you should probably invite him in. So that's what you do.

His mind flicks back to Soap's so called relationship advice, the words "honesty is key" in that loud Scottish accent rattling through his mind. "Okay fine," He grunts, avoiding eye contact. "I hate tea. Can't bloody stand the stuff."

"Well," Ghost replies, shoving his hands into the big pockets of his tactical jacket as he steps inside, shutting the front door behind him and following you to the kitchen "I didn't know your address," He admits, smirking as you raise an eyebrow at him and snicker. "Oh yeah," You chuckle slightly, trying to refrain from smothering the poor bloke as he takes a seat at your table. "Tea?" You tilt your head and glance at the kettle.

"I hate t-" Simon bites the inside of his cheek and curses under his breath. Fuck... He thinks, realising him lying about loving the drink would probably wean him into having it regularly. "Tea's great," He nods, noting how you raise your eyebrows, expression sceptical.

Simon nods, rubbing his eyes sarcastically. "It's probably too late to walk home, aye," He says, eyebrows raised.

You huff with amusement, flicking the kettle off and rifling through your cabinet. "I'm out of coffee,"

You and Simon chatted for hours, sitting at the table. At first, he was jittery, but he soon relaxed, trying to stop staring at you, although this was hard as he finds you so breathtakingly perfect.

A few hours later, you tilt your head and smile at Ghost as he yawns. "You must be tired," You say softly, leaning on the counter.

"Yeah," You respond, scratching your neck with a mock confusion. "Lucky I have a double bed, eh?"

And with that, the two of you curled up on the mattress, Ghost pulling you towards him, arms firm around you as he let the gentle rise and fall of your chest guide him to sleep.

"You're sure?" Asks Ghost, his nervous expression from the coffee shop returning to his face. He was still terrified of scaring you away, but wanted nothing more than to collapse onto your bed and just hold you. You nod, smiling gently. "Come on." Taking your hand, Simon follows you upstairs to your cosy room, allowing himself to relax, stop being awkward. The decoration alone made him feel at home, probably because it shone with your personality.

Love. Simon was sure that's what that feeling was... the one that had seized his whole being since he first set eyes upon you.

Never in a million years would he have predicted this if he was asked about his future a few months ago, but here you were, two awkward and unsure people falling in love from nowhere.

thank you sm for reading! I hope you enjoyed part four..! if anyone wants a part five, I'll most likely do it, ( I just need to figure out what I'd write... probably something about the letters) but yea if u want that just let me know.... also, feel free to make any asks for fics u would like to see :)

sorry if my posting is irregular for a while! I'm back at uni and work after the Christmas break so very busy

[bountydroid]

Darlin' pt 2

pt 1 / pt3

Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x f!reader (right now there is nothing romantic, maybe in the future I am undecided.)

Description: Where the reader arguably makes the stupidest decision of her life, following a ghoul who obviously doesn't want her there.

TW: Talk of physical abuse and bad parenting

I stayed there on my knees in the mud for some time. Stunned at the events that just transpired. I had nowhere to go, my wrists were still bound, and I had no weapon. I was truly fucked. I slowly rose to my feet as I looked around. The ghoul took one of the men's guns and Slim's was far too heavy for me to carry. I stumbled my way to the grave to look down inside. Honcho wasn't moving, and if I crawled down in there to get his gun there was no way I was getting out again. I sighed. I thought back to the ghoul. He was my only chance, but he didn't want my help.

I sighed again as I looked down at the chicken before untying her and setting her free. "At least one of us can be free," I said smiling to her before she ran off. 

I stood there in the dark weighing my options when my eyes fell to the tracks in the mud. Maybe if I stick close to him, I'll be okay? At least until we reach a town. I would stay out of his way. Ideally, he wouldn't even know I was there. 

"You are insane," I said to myself before I started following the tracks in front of me, grabbing Slim's bag on my way past him.

After about a day I was exhausted. I had no idea if I was going in the right direction anymore, I was no tracker and I lost his prints a long time ago. I stopped and bent over, pressing my palms to my knees while trying to catch my breath when I heard a gun cock behind me.

"Now why would you be following me?" The ghoul said behind me. "You must be a special kind of stupid."

I couldn't help the exhausted laugh that bubbled in my throat as I slowly stood up. "I must be. If you killed me right now, it wouldn't make a difference. I'll die on my own anyway." I said still facing away from him, feeling defeated.

There was a long moment of silence before I finally looked behind me. There was no hint of emotion on the ghoul's face.

"Let me follow you until we reach a settlement. I'll stay out of your way. I won't ask you for anything. Please." I begged.

At this, he looked down at my still bound wrists and then back up at my sad face. He sighed as he holstered his gun. "Come here then girl," he said, waving me over. 

I tripped over my feet hurrying over to the man, raising my wrists as he took out his knife and cut me free. "Thank you, sir."

At this, it was his turn to laugh. "Sir? Well I'll be damned you are probably the only person left on this godforsaken planet with some manners."

I smiled up at him, I thought maybe he wasn't so scary after all.

"You will be completely silent. No complaining. If you annoy me, I will turn that pretty ass into jerky. Got it?" He said with a serious look on his face.

"Right. I can do that." I whispered looking down at my feet, feeling stupid. 

We walked until it was far too dark to continue. I silently collected firewood as he put his bag down on the ground. As I made my way to our makeshift camp I stood in front of him with my arms full of sticks.

"What?" He barked out, obviously annoyed. 

"Nothin'" I responded quickly before shuffling away from him embarrassed. 

I tried my best to arrange the wood before pulling the flint out of the bag I took off of Slim. A small fire started and I smiled. I was cold from all the mud plastered to the front of me and was relieved to feel the warmth of the fire. I looked over at the ghoul to see him leaning up against a tree with his hat covering his face. I hummed happily as I thought about the arrangement we came up with, although I couldn't help but want to talk to him, the walk has been incredibly boring. 

After a while of warming up by the fire, I got comfortable and drifted off to sleep.

-

I woke with a start. I looked around confused before I realized there was a boot in my side. I looked up at the ghoul hovering above me. "Get up darlin'." He said before walking away. "Time to move."

I quickly jumped up and grabbed my bag before running after him. This was the routine for days. I had honestly lost track of how long I had been following the ghoul. The silent marches from sun up to sun down were starting to get to me. I felt like I was going crazy.

"If my memory serves me well. I can be rid of you by tomorrow morning." He said with a sour tone.

"Okay," I responded quickly. I wanted to say as little as possible so he doesn't make true to his threat.

He looked back at me for a second as he continued to walk. "How did you get yourself into this mess anyway?"

I hesitated to answer, remembering he told me to stay silent. I looked up at him to see him scoff and turn away again. 

"I ran away from home. Was on my own for a while before I ran into those idiots. They found me while I was sleeping, I had no chance to escape until you killed them."

"Ran away from home?" He repeated back at me. "That was stupid."

"Well, I'd rather be eaten by a ghoul than continue to be beaten by my father," I responded curtly.

He laughed at this. "Getting feisty aren't we darlin'?"

"Sorry," I responded. "I shouldn't have said that."

"No, you shouldn't have." He said with a tone that I couldn't quite figure out. 

We walked in silence for what felt like forever, I tried to keep track of time by looking up at the sun but it was a cloudy, cold day. I couldn't help but start to shiver. My feet started to ache terribly, I wanted to ask for a break but I bit my tongue. No complaining had been one of his rules. I didn't want to push my luck with him. 

"Stop." He said abruptly, pulling me from my thoughts. 

"Wha-" I asked confused.

"Quiet." He interrupted as his hand slowly wrapped around his gun and turned towards me. 

Before I had a chance to react the barrel of his gun was next to my face and he shot a round off. 

I cried out as my ears rang painfully and I fell to the ground in shock. He said something to me, but I couldn't hear a thing. I held my head as I watched him walk behind me towards a man, dead on the ground. He rummaged through the dead man's pockets, pulling out a couple of caps before walking back towards me. 

"A fiend." I thought to myself.

Instead of saying anything he offered me his gloved hand. I hesitantly took it and let him pull me back to my feet. He mumbled something but I couldn't hear it. Not long after this, we made camp again.

-

The next day, I slowed down a lot, but we were very close to town. I was beyond exhausted and barely had any will to keep going. The distance was growing between us before he finally stopped and whipped around, visibly annoyed. 

"Walk faster. Remember what I said about annoying me darlin'." He barked at me. 

I stared at him quietly before saying. "Why not just leave me behind, then?"

"Don't tempt me." He grumbled as he roughly grabbed my arm and started dragging me along. 

A few minutes later we reached a small settlement. We got a couple of strange looks as he continued to drag me by my arm before finally letting go as soon as he set eyes on a "doctors" office. I just stood there. Unsure what to do now. I was in town, albeit a small one. There were only three buildings and a couple of food stalls. I could do whatever I wanted. I couldn't follow him anymore, that was for certain. I heard a commotion from inside the office, but it wasn't my problem anymore. I slowly wandered away eyeing up the food stands. Dog meat wasn't appetizing, but I hadn't had real food in days. I rummaged around Slim's pack before I found enough caps to buy myself a meal. 

I hummed happily as I finished my food, I hadn't realized how hungry I was.

"Well, aren't you a pretty thing?" A man slurred behind me. "How much for your time?"

"I am not a prostitute." I scoffed as I turned around to face him.

"Free then?" He smiled menacingly as he grabbed ahold of me. His grip was so tight that I could feel my arm bruising.

Without thinking I drove the empty skewer in my hand into the man's eye and ran. I heard yelling behind me, but I kept running mindlessly. Before I realized what I was doing, I ran right into the arms of the ghoul as he was exiting the doctor's office. 

"What in the hell?" He exclaimed, shocked by my actions before he looked up to see the man following me with blood running down his face. 

"That bitch belongs to you? She must be some kind of freak to be with a ghoul." He growled angrily.

I buried my face into the ghoul's chest, afraid to look at his face. I desperately hoped he would take mercy on me once again.

"Well, darlin' you do have some bite to ya." The ghoul laughed while eyeing up the man standing in front of him. 

"Give me the girl and get gone." The man spit out.

"Well, that just won't do." The ghoul responded while smirking, obviously amused. "Get behind me darlin'," he whispered quietly as he stared down the thug.

I quickly did as I was told before I heard some more shots ring off, before I knew it, the whole town turned into a shoot-off. I dropped to the ground and crawled into the doctor's office hiding behind the counter next to a very dead doctor.

"What the hell?" I mumbled to myself looking over at him, wondering what had transpired between him and the ghoul.

I stayed there until I heard a familiar voice yell out. "Anyone else wanna try me? That was fun, but I am itching for a REAL challenge." Only to get silence in return.

I peeked my head around the counter before finally getting up to my feet and shuffling to the doorway. Before I could stick my head out, the ghoul appeared in front of me. 

"Thank you," I said smiling shyly up at him.

He stared down at me for a moment before saying, "Come on then. I need to get going if I am going to catch that bounty and Filly ain't far."

"I am coming with you?" I questioned, trying to hide the relief on my face. 

"Well, you obviously can't be trusted on your own. Can ya darlin'?" He responded slyly.

"Oh thank you so much. You won't regret this!" I said to him as I grabbed ahold of his sleeve. 

He stared down at my fist before looking back up into my eyes. I could see the hesitation on his face. Little did I know, this was the most human contact he had had in a long time, and it stirred something deep within him. 

An odd friendship had formed between us, and neither of us knew how to feel about it.

tag list: @msrawog

[tokyo-debunkers-headcanons]

How do you think the boys were when MC didn't come back for a day? I imagine Kaito starting a riot and probably crying. Maybe even failing to sneak out lol (I love him 😭)

Oh GOD! the CHAOS! I'm gonna do this more as a group headcanon for both houses. Thank you for sending in a request!

It was around lunch time when the message that MC went MIA on a mission. These are the headcanons of the brave souls that survived that day.

FROSTHEIM

Jin was already pissed that he lost his newest gopher (affectionate) to do stuff for him. But the second that message dropped. He had to do a double and even a triple take to make sure he read that right. As soon as he's sure he IMMEDIATELY get Tohma to check the tracker on the cruiser he lent out to them (he's rich. He absolutely has a tracker put on his shit)

Kaito is screaming, crying, throwing up (okay maybe not that last one). He's READY to go dive into the water to save MC. He is LOSING IT scoob!

Some would think that our boy Luca would try to keep Kaito calm....in actuality he's almost just as bad. He just manages to keep it on the inside. He's trying to do it through the proper channels (ie Professor Dante) but when that doesn't work or will take too long for their liking, he's coming up with an escape plan right alongside Kaito.

We gave to remember that Luca has already lost one of his loved ones. He's sure as HELL not losing another one without a fight!

Tohma is STRESSED! Not because MC is missing though. He's concerned sure, but he's sure they'll come back soon, missions are typically dangerous after all. He doesn't have much faith in the academy itself. Its more of a logical way of thinking. Its one day, he's sure they're fine.

Where his stress is coming from is the other Frostheim ghouls. He's basically that meme of someone with kids on leashes each going in different directions. Someone HELP this man's before he goes gray!

VAGASTROM

Alan had to hear from someone else. He was shocked to hear that MC had gone missing. It was even worse since the last time he saw them they weren't sure if their ability worked or how it worked. He went to go ask some of the professors to see what happened but got what was essentially nothing.

Sho was worried but he didn't show it. He tried to play it off like he was too focused on his food truck to worry about the honor student. He did however ask his brother about them when he saw him next. His brother mercilessly teased him about possibly liking MC and Sho instantly regretted asking. Every now and then he considered trying to call MC to see if they would answer.

He decided against it and focused more on his truck to keep his mind off of things.

Leo doesn't care. At this point he still wants to take MC down. So while its not the way he wanted to do it, it meant no more annoying NPC tagging along on missions with them. So to him, it was a win. The only annoying part was Alan and Sho worrying about them. He didn't get it and just laughed at the gossip on WickChat about the meltdown at Frostheim.

[ominous-horse-noises]

im ab to be annoying ab dimension20 fhjy but im genuinely loving the character arcs for the bad kids this season?

kristen going from self-annihilatingly stupid to trying to build a genuine bridge with the man who not only wielded the religion that traumatised her (bobby dawn), but also was trying to ruin her life, just bc she thought a grieving father ought to be comforted in some way? her genuine distress at being unable to revivify buddy even though the two had only had negative interactions, or her biting her tongue in front of her parents so she could better look after her little siblings? grappling with the fact that she still, on some level, expected practising religion to be easy and convenient for her as a holdover from an entire childhood spent being a Chosen One, and finally putting her nose to the grindstone and committing to working her ass off for a deity that couldn't even benefit her for a hot minute? making an effort to be cordial with tracker's new gf and letting go of that codependency? the kristen applebees from ep20 would NOT do all the same stupid shit as ep1 and i love that.

fabian being humbled by the narrative again and again has been an absolute treat for his character. the whole ivy/mazey situation was great: freshman/sophomore year fabian would've gone for ivy no sweat, i mean her character seemed pretty similar to pre-redemption aelwyn and he had a huge crush on her then. but this time, when he realised he'd hurt a genuinely great person, and intentionally swallowed his pride to make it up to mazey, even though it required him being 'uncool' with the whole twister thing. his general arc of learning that earnestness and humility doesn't make him less of a man felt like a natural extension of fabian defining his own version of masculinity- sure, a 'maximum legend', but also someone deeply involved in the arts, and someone who is less afraid of saying sorry and being vulnerable in front of someone he likes

fig. fig fig fig. what a woman. its been absolutely fascinating watching build her sense of identity over these three seasons. at her core, fig is a character that loves so deeply. in freshman, she was terrified of the depth of her own devotion, so she tried to distance herself emotionally from everyone. in sophomore, she built herself around that love for other people. in junior year, fig's arc has been learning she can do both: that she's defined by her love for others, but not solely by it. ik emily wanted to retire the character before this season but i think fig's paladin arc was the best capstone to her journey possible.

gorgug's arc has been about establishing clear boundaries for himself and i love it. im aware there's been some Discourse ab the mango soda scene but to me that was pretty easily chalked up to teenage insecurity. a big part of gorgug's arc was trying to believe in himself when everyone around him told him he was too dumb to follow his passion- imagine struggling in an area that you have no natural aptitude for, and someone comes along and also trounces you in the one area you thought you were the best in. i'd be petty and reactive too (gorgug follows up calling her a freak with the fact that she beat the shit out of him, so its clearly him just still smarting from a bruised ego and not actual malice). in general, i've really like gorgug learning to put his foot down and say enough is enough without completely losing his gentleness.

adaine hasnt had an obvious arc, but considering she addressed most of her baggage in the first two seasons, i'm not surprised. i would've liked to see the other bad kids address her 'teenage adult' behaviour, but her self-awareness about it and relying on fabian to pull in clutch for the oracool stuff still felt like she'd learned to rely on her friends at least + her reaching out to aelwyn and the two of them healing from their parents together has been rewarding it its own right.

riz is perfect and has learned nothing. his neuroticism is part of his natural swag

[keanusbabydoll]

If you're taking requests, how about a daryl x reader with him hunting you through the woods. Y'know, the classic predator/prey thing. Maybe when he catches you, he uses his knife on you. Not to like seriously hurt the reader, but he knows she thinks he looks hot using a knife. Feel free to not write this if It makes you uncomfortable, though.

HIS PREY

a/n: anything for you guys!! i looove this one.<3

paring: daryl dixon x fem! reader

warnings: 18+ content, p in v, unprotected p in v, rough sex, dom!daryl, slight knife play, knife kink, daddy kink, age gap, fingering, slight edging, slight spanking, degrading, praising

wordcount: 2.2k

MDNI

⋆𐙚 ₊ ° ⊹ ♡ ⋆𐙚 ₊ ° ⊹ ♡ ⋆𐙚 ₊ ° ⊹ ♡ ⋆𐙚 ₊ ° ⊹ ♡ ⋆𐙚 ₊ ° ⊹ ♡

it was a crisp morning when rick approached you and daryl, suggesting the two of you head out to scout for food. the group needed supplies, and he knew that daryl was the best hunter in the group—and that you, after months of being together, had become a skilled tracker in your own right.

it wasn’t the first time you were out alone and let’s say you were more than just excited.

being alone on a scavenger hunt with daryl always ended up with you getting your brains fucked out against a tree. and you couldn’t get enough of it. there would be no annoying rick or michonne who constantly interrupt you or ask daryl to guard at the gates. there, it was just the two of you.

as soon as you stepped into the woods the calming scent of damp earth and pine needles filled your nose. you looked to your right and found daryl adjusting his crossbow, his sharp blue eyes scanning the area for any walkers. hell, only the sight of him made you drool and hold yourself back to not jump on him. the way his muscles flexed and his shirt hugged his trained form so perfectly.

you needed him dearly, the forming wet spot in your panties only prove of it. and you definitely knew how to get what you want.

just as daryl seemed to have prepared everything you glanced over your shoulder with a smirk, arms folded over your chest. “you know daryl,” you teased, “if i wanted to hide out here, you’d never find me.”

he snorted softly, not looking at you. “that so?” you took a step closer, leaning into his space. “you’re good, dixon. but not that good. you’d be wandering around these woods all night.”

now you got his attention.

daryl’s lips twitched into a faint smirk as he finally turned to look at you, his eyes narrowing like he was already sizing you up.

underestimating daryl’s abilities? bad idea.

“you’re talkin’ a lotta shit for someone i could catch in under five minutes.” he stated, your words definitely affecting him. “prove it.” you challenged, your voice low and teasing. you could already feel your heart racing at what would happen next.

for a moment, he just stared at you, the weight of his predatory gaze making your breath hitch. then, without a word, he reached out and gripped your upper arm firmly, his expression shifting into something darker. “you better run, girl. clock’s tickin’.” your heart skipped a beat as soon as the words left his mouth and for a second, you hesitated, but the glint in his eyes told you he wasn’t kidding.

and you were fucking in for it.

you turned on your heels and bolted into the woods, the adrenaline kicking in almost instantly. the forest felt alive as you weaved through the trees and your heart pounded in your chest, a mix of excitement and something far more primal.

you eventually found a spot—a large tree covered in ivy. its wide trunk provided the perfect hiding place. carefully, to not make any sound, you knelt down and pressed your back against it, trying to catch your breath. you knew daryl well enough to know that he’d take his time, moving silently, stalking you like his prey. the thought of it sent shivers down your spine.

but honestly, you would’ve loved to hide somewhere really obvious only for him to find you after a minute. that’s how much you fucking craved this man. but then again, you knew that he would remind you forever that you were hiding this poorly. and the thrill of not knowing when he’d find you, got you even more excited.

the forest was eerily quiet, save for the occasional rustle of leaves in the wind. but then, you heard it—a soft, deliberate footstep. your breath caught in your throat. he was close.

you leaned ever so slightly to peek around the tree, scanning the woods for any sign of him. nothing.

you let out a quiet sigh of relief, relaxing back against the tree.

big mistake.

in a flash, a strong hand gripped your arm, yanking you to your feet. you barely had time to yelp before your back was slammed against the rough bark of the tree harshly. daryl loomed over you, his chest heaving from the exertion of the chase, his piercing eyes locking into yours. without you even fully realizing it, he held his sharp knife against your throat— not enough to hurt you but still to show you who’s in charge.

“thought ya could hide from me, huh?” his voice was low and gravelly, dripping with dominance. your eyes drifted down to the blade against your throat, your heartbeat quickening. “guess i was wrong.” you whispered, finding his gaze again.

“stupid lil’ thing.” he murmured as he began to trace the tip of the blade along your jawline, down your throat and to your exposed collarbone— leaving soft white lines. you tried to stifle a moan but the undeniable tension and daryl’s dominance made this impossible.

and he knew exactly what he was doing to you.

given the fact how pathetically you were rubbing your thighs together to gain just a tiny bit of friction. “you’re such a lil’ slut, doll.” he growled as he let the knife wander down to your tits, his eyes following it closely. “only for you, daddy.” you quietly whimpered, batting your eyelashes at him.

“yeah?” he amusingly huffed out before he captured your lips in a heated kiss— rough and demanding. his free hand gripped your waist to pull you closer as you moaned into the kiss as you felt his hard cock pressing against your lower belly.

he ached for you just as much as you ached for him.

his blade once again nestled on your throat, this time pressing a little harder, knowing it would rile you up even more.

he pushed his tongue past your lips, claiming you as his as he devoured your sweet taste. your tongues fought for dominance but daryl obviously took the lead, not letting you win this battle. the hand that lingered on your waist now grabbed one of your tits, squeezing it harshly. in reply you just pressed yourself harder against him, wordlessly signing him that you longed for more.

you felt him smirk into your kiss and he slowly let his hand glide down your body, stopping at the edge of your jeans. “please, daddy.” you whimpered softly against his lips, staring up at him with the prettiest doe eyes you got.

“what d’ya want?” he teasingly asked, his fingers inching very slowly down your pants. “you, daddy! touch me please.” your plea made his dick twitch in anticipation, he always thought you were so hot when you begged. you impatiently pushed your hips toward his fingers- your cunt was burning for his touch.

“can’t say no now, can i?” he sarcastically retorted as he finally dipped his digits inside your panties. immediately, he began to rub your clit in slow, circular motions, eliciting a relieved sigh from you. again, he trailed his knife down your body before he put it back into its sheath. he expertly opened your jeans one-handed and pushed it with your panties below your ass, giving him more access. daryl almost lost it when he saw your glistening cunt on display.

“you’re fuckin’ drippin’.” he lowly rasped, sliding a finger down to your soaked entrance, wetting the tip of it. “just for you.” you mumbled, tangling your fingers in his hair. “good fuckin’ girl.”

in the blink of an eye he had two of his digits knuckle deep in your pussy, your wetness allowed him to slide in with ease. “ah- fuck!” you mewled, gripping his hair tighter. daryl pressed his lips to yours again as he began to pump his fingers in and out of your cunt in a steady pace, his other hand was back at your tit, groping it feverishly. jolts of pure pleasure crashed through your body as he suddenly curled his fingers and stimulated your sweet spot. “right there.” you squeaked, leaning your head back against the tree.

daryl only took this as a sign and thrusted his fingers faster and rougher inside of you, your walls instantly clamping down on him. he began to lick and suck on your neck, occasionally biting down on your hot flesh. the squelching sounds your pussy made got his dick even harder, needing to be inside of you.

you were a moaning mess, his fingers bringing you closer and closer to your high but then he suddenly pulled them out of you. “wha-“ you began but daryl interrupted you mid-sentence by gripping your waist and turning you around.

“can’t wait any longer.” he mumbled sharply as you heard him fiddling with his belt. with heavy breaths you stared over your shoulder and caught him unzipping his pants. hastily, he pulled down his boxers, making his fully erect cock spring free.

he pumped himself a few times, precum already dripping from the tip, before he stepped closer toward you.

daryl quickly guided his redend tip to your slick entrance, rubbing it up and down teasingly. “ready?” he whispered in your ear, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine. you frantically nodded your head and when you finally felt him push into you, your world turned upside down.

there was no other feeling, than his cock stretching you painfully open, that could make you feel this euphoric.

with a rough thrust of his hips he bottomed out, his hips flush against your ass. a loud whimper escaped your throat, followed by strings of sinful moans. daryl’s head arched back at your tight walls wrapping around him so deliciously. “never gonna get tired of your tight lil’ pussy.” he growled, immediately starting off with a fast pace, not giving you any chance to get used to his size.

his hands gripped your hips tightly and he just increased his speed, making sure you could feel every inch of him. you yearned it, desperately trying to meet each thrust. “you’re so big, daddy.” you yelped, eyes rolling to the back of your skull at his bruising thrusts. “ya can take it.” he growled in reply.

the sound of your skin clapping together lingered in the air, only mushing your brains up. daryl pushed your legs apart and made you arch your back painfully, allowing the tip of his cock to brush exactly against that one spot, nestled deep inside of you, that made you go feral. your nails scraped harshly against the tree bark, eyes tightly closed. “you like that, huh?” he asked you breathlessly, “you like my cock stretching you open?” he pistoned into you like a man on a mission.

“yes! i love it!” you purred as he continued to fuck you straight into oblivion. “dirty whore.” daryl growled as he sent a harsh slap to your ass, receiving a high pitched moan from you. to add fuel to your pleasure, he reached around your middle and let his middle finger draw messy circles on your puffy clit. “god, daryl! don’t stop!” you cried out, feeling your orgasm slowly build up.

daryl himself was close to his high, hammering into your tight hole in an animalistic way. your knees began to buckle as he flicked his finger faster- determined to coax an orgasm out of you.

he knew exactly what you liked and how you liked it to get you to your release in an instant.

“gonna cum?” daryl whispered in your ear, kissing the spot just beneath it. “mhm, close.” you managed to let out—his dick was the only thing in you could really think of.

daryl rolled his hips even rougher and quicker than you thought was possible, his cock twitching uncontrollably- always a sign that he was on the verge of cumming. “‘m gonna cum.” he utterly growled through gritted teeth. the only thing that daryl wanted more than anything was to feel you gush all over his cock. “me too!” you whimpered pathetically, knowing that you will cum any second.

“now.” daryl commanded, using a second finger on your clit. “oh my fucking—” a scream tore from your throat, interrupting yourself with another yelp. you were sent straight to heaven as a powerful orgasm took over your whole body.

quick gasps left your mouth as you clutched on the tree in any way you could.

feeling you cum around him and your pussy clamping down on his shaft, daryl’s hips began to stutter as the contraction sent him over the edge with you.

he kept rubbing your now sensitive nub and slammed his hips a few more times against your ass before they sputtered to a stop. reluctantly, he pulled out of your pussy, a sharp hiss falling from your lips.

“was that enough prove?” he mocked you while smacking your ass.

“maybe.” you replied defiantly and pulled your jeans and panties up, still trying to catch your breath.

“you’ll never learn to shut that cheeky mouth of yours.” he stated irritatingly, adjusting his pants as well.

“nope.”

REQUESTS ARE OPENED <3