#I thought that tumblr ate this ask but I found it again

[i-may-be-an-emu]

Hi this might be a silly question but do you know where the nicknames squidboi and shark friend came from? I see them floating around the fandom and I've never been able to find their origins...

Hello!! :D

Yes I do :))

Sharkfriend

This is the overall name for sfth fans (it used to be a patreon level, but now there’s only one patreon price and is the term for general fans)

links:

Mr Wompa

This is the name for patreons (or “fellow Mr Wompa” I believe it was from a clip of Sam saying “Mr Wompa” instead of “Mr Wonka” when doing a scene about oompa loompas

link:

Squidboi

the Squidboi Army is the name for the fan discord folk :) it is also a term for Tom because of this clip from a livestream which is the origin of the term (he has done this a few times)

I hope this helps!!

[the-fandom-fuckup]

How do you think triceratons were introduced into Rottmnt?

like, in universe? bc after getting this n doing some research (I haven't seen much of them before this, tbh) I was thinking about how they could've come around n started causing issues for the turtles n gang

there were a few points of interest that stood out while I was scanning a few wiki articles for them, 1. being that they seem to fight the prototype kraang/Utroms across a few of the tmnt iterations and 2. being that they like to take other civilisation's tech n integrate it into their own

so maybe in Rise they have a feud with the Kraang that spans back millennia, like beef that's older than the human race. and maybe since the disappearance of the Kraang in this sector of our universe the Triceratons have been looking for clues as to where they could've gone, n found our little planet in the process.

now I'll be real, I haven't thought very far ahead into what would keep them from touching down here between that event and the events of the movie. maybe it's as simple as our tech n resources don't seem interesting enough for a planetary visit or smth, maybe they were biding their time until smth interesting enough happened, idk

but what does catch their attention is the sudden spike of Kraang activity in the movie, n the fact that this seemingly insignificant planet was not only able to fend them off so swiftly, but also destroyed one of their precious Technodromes in the process. bc now the Triceratons know there's at least smth here that can mess them up, but the appeal of free Kraang tech being up for grabs is too tasty to pass up, so they send out a scouting pod or two to search for any wreckage they can find.

which, if we follow the plan the writers had about Casey Sr + Jr travelling the world to annihilate any traces of the Kraang left behind, would put them on the Caseys' radar. and maybe the Caseys attack first n *think* about asking questions later, but in their defence a new alien race taking interest in anything related to the Kraang can not lead to anything good

and you know the Caseys are gonna touch base back with the turtles n tell them about what's going on after beating the Triceratons' asses, which leads to Donnie finding the other scouting pods in the area and starting a bunch of shenanigans/issues that I'm too tired to think about rn lmao

[doumadono]

(EMERGENCY Request (because I don’t know if the other came through or if Tumblr ate my ask.)

Can I have some Izuku, Shouta, and Shigaraki comforting reader after she revealed that she had been sexually assaulted by a close family friend?..

(Because the above happened to me, and now the idea of being intimate with someone makes me cry and freak out and feel ill.)

EMERGENCY REQS MASTERLIST - PART 2

Tomura Shigaraki

Shigaraki listens with a chilling stillness as you speak, his entire demeanor darkening with each word. His expression goes from steely focus to pure fury, hands clenching tight enough to make his knuckles whiten as you recount what happened.

He doesn’t try to comfort you right away; instead, his eyes narrow, filled with an intense, dark energy that you’ve rarely seen before. He lets you finish, then speaks in a low, almost dangerous tone: “Tell me who did it.” There’s no doubt in his voice, only absolute conviction.

Shigaraki doesn’t ask twice. He wants a name, wants to know every detail, not to wallow in your pain but to turn it into a target — one he intends to take down personally.

Once you’ve shared what you’re comfortable with, he reassures you in his own way, his voice softening, though his gaze remains fierce. “They’ll pay for this. No one does that to you. Not without consequence.”

Unlike most, Shigaraki doesn’t shy away from your pain. Instead, he encourages you to express every ounce of anger and bitterness, letting you know that you have every right to be furious, to feel however you need to feel. “Don’t hold back,” he says, his hand resting over yours, grounding but strong. “Let it out. Let it fuel you.”

His form of comfort is protective, almost ruthless. He speaks of revenge openly, as if it’s the only option worth considering. He’s fixated, promising you repeatedly, “I’ll make them feel everything they made you feel — and worse.”

When it comes to physical comfort, he’s careful. Shigaraki isn’t the most openly affectionate, but if you’re willing, he holds you close, his fingers grazing your shoulder, tracing light circles down your back. His presence is steadfast, a quiet strength, and the promise is clear: he’ll keep you safe, no matter the cost.

Once he has the name of the person who hurt you, he doesn’t rest. He goes out alone, no second thoughts or hesitation, tracking the perpetrator down with a dark resolve, finding them under cover of night.

It’s quick and merciless. He locates them, doesn’t give them a chance to speak or even see what’s coming. In a single, decisive movement, his fingers make contact, and within seconds, they’re reduced to nothing but ashes. A quiet, terrible satisfaction settles in his chest — he’s done what needed to be done. Justice, his own way.

That night, Shigaraki returned to the base of the League of Villains very late, and there was a shift in his energy that you felt the moment he walked into the room. His gaze was dark, almost unreadable, yet there was an eerie calm in the way he settled beside you. His fingers, usually fidgeting with nervous energy, were still, resting against his knee as if he’d finally found his focus, his purpose. He looked at you, eyes intense, and for a long moment, he didn’t say anything.

Finally, he leaned in, his voice low, barely above a whisper. “It’s done,” he said, his hand resting on yours, his touch grounding. “They’re gone. They’ll never hurt you again.”

You could see the satisfaction in his expression, the way his eyes glinted with a dark triumph as he watched you, waiting for your reaction. He didn’t need thanks, didn’t expect it; he’d done this for you, because no one else had. Because he would destroy anything that dared to harm you. "Tomura...."

Tomura’s fingers traced over your knuckles, his gaze unwavering. “Shhh, it's okay. You’re safe now,” he murmured, his voice a low growl, fierce and possessive. “And anyone who thinks of hurting you… well, they’ll end up the same.”

Shota Aizawa

Shota doesn’t say much initially, allowing silence to settle around you both so you don’t feel rushed to fill it. His presence is steady and dependable, and he radiates a calm, quiet strength.

His eyes are intense, focused on you in that careful, unblinking way he has when he’s deeply engaged. There’s no judgment, no pity - just a readiness to listen and understand.

Shota waits until you’re finished speaking, then offers a grounding observation: “You’re strong to have carried this alone. You didn’t deserve any of it, and it was never your fault.”

He lets you know that you have the right to feel whatever you need - anger, grief, even numbness. Shota doesn’t try to solve your pain; he respects that healing is complex and that he’s there to support, not fix.

Touch, he knows, is delicate. If he senses you’re uncomfortable with it, he respects that boundary completely. But he does offer simple gestures - a hand on your shoulder, a gentle brush of your hair - giving you the choice to lean into his warmth or keep your distance.

Aizawa is a man of action, so he makes sure you feel safe around him. He talks about boundaries, offering reassurance that he’ll take things at your pace. He’s honest but tender, letting you know he’ll be patient, however long it takes. And on the nights when you finally drift into peaceful sleep beside him, he quietly searches for every piece of information about the person who hurt you. They may think they got away clean, but they’re dead wrong.

When the words finally spill out, they feel jagged, raw, tearing through the silence like an open wound.

Aizawa doesn’t flinch; he absorbs each word, each broken pause, with an intensity that’s almost unnerving. His gaze is steady, dark eyes fixed on you, taking in every detail, but he doesn’t speak right away. Instead, he stays close, his silence a constant, a reassurance that he isn’t going anywhere, no matter how long it takes for you to finish.

Once the last word leaves your lips, you glance up at him, half-expecting him to pull away, to offer you some hollow phrase that makes him feel better but leaves you feeling even emptier. But Shota stays, his expression unreadable except for the faint tightening around his eyes, the only sign that your pain has struck something deep within him. Slowly, he reaches out, his hand resting on your shoulder, his touch feather-light, as if he’s afraid you’ll break under too much pressure. “You didn’t deserve any of it,” he says finally, his voice so soft it’s almost a whisper. “This doesn’t define you. It’s something that happened to you, not something that’s a part of you.”

The silence stretches, but it’s a comfortable one, an invitation for you to say whatever you need, or to say nothing at all. He’s patient, letting you lean into him, his hand finding yours and holding it gently, giving you the control to pull away if it becomes too much.

When you finally let yourself press into his side, his arm wraps around you, steady, grounding. He doesn’t say much after that; he just sits with you, his hand slowly tracing soothing circles on your back. It’s a simple gesture, but it feels safe, like an anchor holding you steady in a sea of uncertainty. “Take all the time you need,” Shota murmurs, his voice low, his lips close to your ear. “If you want me to stay, I’ll stay. If you need space, I’ll give you that too. Just know that I’m here. For all of it.”

Izuku Midoriya

Izuku’s heart nearly breaks the moment you confide in him. He listens, fully attentive, and doesn’t interrupt - not even to ask questions. His eyes are soft but steady, and he nods as you talk, a subtle affirmation that he’s here with you, every painful step.

He doesn’t rush you to say more than you’re ready to. Izuku senses when you need a pause, his hand on yours, rubbing gentle circles on your knuckles to ground you.

He tells you, without hesitation, that it wasn’t your fault. Izuku’s voice is firm, sincere, as if he needs you to feel it in your bones. He keeps his words simple, gentle. “If it hurts to talk about this, we don’t have to. But I’m here, I’m here whenever you need me, no matter what.”

Izuku understands if physical touch feels overwhelming, so he asks permission before hugging you. “Can I… hold you? Only if you’re okay with it.”

He offers support rather than solutions, respecting that this healing is on your terms. He suggests getting some air together, or maybe some tea, but he doesn’t push anything. You can feel how deeply he cares without feeling pressured to act a certain way.

Izuku reassures you that whatever feelings come up - fear, sadness, anger - are okay, and he’s here for all of them. He promises he’ll protect you, but it’s not a hollow vow; it’s one he fully believes he can keep.

Izuku sits beside you, close but not encroaching. He waits, letting each word hang in the air as you reveal what happened, the details heavy between you, until finally, you fall silent. There’s a flicker of something in his eyes - anger, sadness - but it’s tempered by an overwhelming gentleness as he reaches for your hand, his touch featherlight.

“You didn’t deserve any of it,” he says, voice low but certain. “And it wasn’t your fault. No matter how it might feel.” His words sink in, the conviction in his voice wrapping around you, settling deep in the space where shame and doubt often linger. His gaze is steady, unwavering, as he adds, “This doesn’t change who you are, not to me. You’re still you, and nothing - no one - can take that away.”

You sob quietly.

There’s a pause, a heartbeat, and then he hesitates, eyes softening as he reaches hand out to wipe off your tear. “Can I hold you?” he asks gently, his hand still on yours, warm and ready but not pushing.

When you nod, he shifts, pulling you close into his chest, his arms wrapping around you in a way that feels protective, solid. The quiet thump of his heartbeat against your cheek is steady, grounding, and his fingers stroke your back in slow, soothing motions.

“You’re allowed to be hurt,” he murmurs into your hair, his voice thick with emotion, “and you’re allowed to take your time, however long you need. But you don’t have to go through this alone.” He holds you a little tighter, his breath warm against your forehead as he whispers, “I’m here, and I’ll be here, always."

[hurthermore]

Hello again bestie. Amazing work on chapter 7, with every chapter i get more and more HOOKED. You’re doing amazing, keep it up. I sent an ask a while back but I assume tumblr ate it (but if not and you just haven’t written it then totally disregard me) but it was just about a small idea of a domestic life between Darling and Alastor trying to co-parent(?) cursed cat Alastor. Like maybe they have some beef over darlings attention and stuff. Yk just lots of silliness. Anyways feel free to ignore this if you’d like, lots of kisses🩷🩷

»»------► 𝙲𝚞𝚛𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝙲𝚊𝚝 𝙰𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛

A/N: 𝙰𝙷 𝚃𝚈𝚂𝙼 𝙱𝙴𝚂𝚃𝙸𝙴<𝟹𝟹 𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝚢𝚎𝚊𝚑!! 𝙸 𝚍𝚒𝚍 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚒𝚝, 𝙸'𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚍 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚗 𝚒𝚝 𝚖𝚞𝚝𝚒𝚙𝚕𝚎 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎𝚜 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝙸 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍 𝚒𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝚘𝚏 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚝𝚘 𝚠𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚎 𝚒𝚝? 𝙸𝚝𝚜 𝚋𝚊𝚍𝚕𝚢 𝚠𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚗 𝚒𝚖𝚘, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝙸 𝚑𝚘𝚙𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚒𝚝!

“What is that?”

Your movements stopped as you heard your husband's voice echo from behind you. Looking at the red cat that was on its back as you stroked its tummy, you quickly picked it up into the warmth of your arms. “It’s a cat I found; I thought we should keep him.” You spoke without turning around to face Alastor; you could feel his shoes directly behind your form as you sat on the floor whilst showering the newly found cat the attention it seemed to absolutely adore from you.

Hearing his clothes ruffle as he arched his hips to place his head into your shoulder, he took in the appearance of the thing you had brought home. “Eugh, where did you find it?” He grimaced as he watched the scruffy little creature frog blink at him before it began to snarl towards him.

“Look, you're upsetting him!” You huffed before standing up and moving away from your lover, carrying the cat you found adorable in your safe hold; its snarling dying down as you stroked it behind the ears, causing a rabid purring sound to emit from it. “I found him sitting outside the hotel; he looked so lost and hungry, I had to bring him in!” You explained as the cat snuggled itself further into your chest.

Alastors eye twitched as he watched the thing bask in his partner's embrace. “It looks inbred.” He spoke unvarnished, the red cat still frog blinking before it began to lick your face.

“Really?” You looked at the cat. “I kind of thought it looked like you.” As soon as those words left your mouth, Alastor glared at you with pure distaste; causing you to stiffen up as your eyes rapidly fixated on any part of the room apart from your husband.

You were in trouble.

Walking over to you, Alastor yanked the cat by the scruff of its neck as he tore it from you; the cat screeching instantly as it was torn from your grasp. Its movements became erratic as its eyes blacked out and its jaw unhinged as its mouth opened wide as it attempted to latch onto Alastor. “You’re hurting him!” You screamed at your partner before snatching the cat back; its form returning to its normal state as you protectively held onto it. 

“How could you compare me to some mangy critter that is clearly disease-ridden?” Alastor scoffed.

“You know you can be a real ass sometimes, Al.” 

It was the last thing you said to him before you had stormed away from him; from your shared room as you left Alastor alone to ponder on the entirety of the situation. He found it ridiculous how attached you had become to something so ugly, let alone how you had compared him to it. 

His blood was boiling. 

He didn’t want a creature in his living space, didn't want some thing taking your attention off of him, but he felt a bit stubborn on this situation; if you wanted to be a brat and storm away from him then he would wait for you to come around, regardless of how annoyed he was at the thought of you coddling that thing instead of him.

Unfortunately for Alastor, you refused to even look at him over the next three days, all whilst coddling that thing. It was becoming extremely agitating for the red demon to have not heard your voice or feel your loving touch; it was becoming painful, in a way. So being the adult he was, Alastor decided it was time to just suck it up and come crawling back to you.

As you sat at the table, reading a newspaper whilst the red creature you had fallen into a deep care for slept in your lap, you felt a tap on your shoulder. “Darling, can you look at me? Please?” The way Alastor begged for you to engage with him had your heart breaking ever so slightly. Fulfilling his request, you tilted your head so you could gaze into your husband's red eyes. 

Reaching a clawed hand to your face, Alastor caressed your cheek as he gazed almost mesmerised into your oculi. “I’m sorry, darling.” You could only lean your head into his palm as he apologised so sweetly.

You told him it was alright; that you still loved him, and gave him a kiss on the hand as he melted from your attention. “I just wish you weren't so against him.” You mumbled as you continued to stoke the napping red cat on your lap.

“I suppose I will stay civil towards it. For your sake, my darling.” He submitted as he looked at the creature in your lap, but you could sense the grimace in his face and the envy that swarmed in his eyes.

Laughing at his ridiculous feelings towards the cat, you woke the cat up before picking him up; its frog blink even slower than usual as it yawned from its previous slumber whilst its little tail wagged back and forth as it looked at you. “Here,” You said as you turned the animal around so it faced Alastor. “Why don’t you try to stoke him?” You suggested, hoping that it could begin the start of a bond between the two.

Alastors lip twitched upwards in grimace as he looked back and forth between you and the thing you believed to be a cat. Sighing, he relented as his clawed hand began to reach towards the animal's head.

You weren’t expecting the creature in your hold to open its mouth wide before sinking its teeth into Alastor’s arm.

»»------► 𝙼𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝

[ellethespaceunicorn]

Forever And A Day

Title: Forever And A Day

Rating: Explicit, 18+, Minors - DNI

Pairing: Geralt x Black!OFC 

Word Count: 1.9K

Summary: Geralt and Lavinia share a passionate reunion.

Warnings: pining, soft!Geralt, oral sex (f receiving), attempted oral sex (m receiving), unprotected p-in-v sex, creampie, mention of bodily fluids

A/N: I used a prompt from this post by @creativepromptsforwriting: “I told you we would see each other again.” Found inspiration from this post from a tag game on tumblr. Unbeta’d, we die like people who tried their best. 

Dividers by: @saradika-graphics

Support/Reblog banner by me

Cover Art by me

My Masterlist

Her hickory-colored eyes stay on his mind for days leading up to when he will get to visit her. Along the path, there aren’t many moments to look forward to. But to see the look on her face after all this time? That moment is worth all the orens on the continent.

Geralt takes notice of himself more intently. He bathes in a lake, ridding himself of the scent of horses and the remnants of the Fleder that he killed earlier. As he washes his hair, the water around him goes from crystal clear to opaque. He carefully washes his skin, every scar on display, rinsing off the suds from the soap he bought in the last town.

The strong aroma of rosemary and lavender calms his nerves as it clings to his skin. He thinks of how different he must look after the last time they were together. Fresh marks litter his skin at different stages of healing. His hair is a bit longer, enough to warrant him tying it up on most days. 

After dressing in fresh clothes, he hefts on his boots. Stuffing his soiled clothing within the pack that Roach wears, he lifts a leg to put his foot in the stirrup. Roach huffs and moves just out of reach. Geralt raises a brow, moving closer to Roach and lifting his leg again. The chestnut mare groans and steps away from him again.

“What has gotten into you?” Geralt asks, scratching behind her ear. Roach thrusts her snout in his direction, snorting as she takes in his new scent. He smiles, his large hand moving to stroke her muzzle gently. “Don’t worry, Roach. When we get to her cottage, I’m sure Lavinia will take her time pampering you. She always does. Brushing you, putting flowers in your hair, and she may even have a treat or two for you.” Roach nickers and allows Geralt to climb atop the saddle again for the tail end of the journey. 

Less than two hours later, they reach the road that leads to her homestead. With his keen eyes, he can already see her. She tends her garden, kneeling to pick the ripened vegetables and herbs that grow thanks to her green thumb. The crunching of pebbles and dirt under boots and hooves alerts her to their approach. 

Brown eyes meet yellow, and the rest of the world vanishes. 

Lavinia looks away, placing the wicker basket full of nature’s bounty on the ground before standing to her full height. She dusts off her apron, moving an errant curl from her face. By the time she looks up, she is face-to-chest with the man she thought she would never get to see again. 

Geralt uses a hand to lift her chin, delicately stroking his thumb against her jaw. He inhales her scent, a heady perfume of sweet honeysuckle, and the kindling fire burning between her thighs. He growls lowly, his body reacting to her arousal. Leaning in, he rests his forehead against hers as her hands clutch the front of his chemise.

Closing the gap between them, her lips graze his tentatively, as if unsure that the kiss is wanted. His answering groan of satisfaction is all the incentive she needs. Tilting her head, she captures his lips, swallowing his hum of approval. She welcomes his endeavor to take over the kiss when his tongue prods at the seam of her lips.

As she allows his tongue entry, his hand tangles in her hair while his other hand snakes around her waist to bring her impossibly closer. He tastes the berries she ate earlier¾tart yet sweet. Devouring her moans, he can hear her heart beating faster inside her ribcage. Her slippery tongue against his is almost too much, as his growing arousal presses against her.

He slows the kiss to a lazy meeting of their lips, only slightly less intense than their previous activity. She reaches up to cradle his face as she breaks the kiss. They stand there in the garden, breathing each other’s air for but a moment, when a low nicker comes from the ignored chestnut mare.

“She missed you as well,” he laughs, looking at Roach.

Breaking away from Geralt, Lavinia turns to smile at the horse. “My dear sweet Roach, has he been treating you well?” She bends to reach into her basket for an apple, feeding it to his trusted companion.

It brings warmth to his heart as he watches their interaction. Roach happily snorts as she receives attention. He could get used to hearing Lavinia’s laughter as it echoed in the wind around them. Grabbing Roach by the reigns, she walks toward the small stable behind her cottage.

“Let’s get her settled. Bring that basket along with you,” she calls over her shoulder.

Geralt smiles, watching the two of them in the stable. Lavinia takes her time brushing Roach’s coat. Combing out her mane, she braids in some wildflowers. Adding a ribbon at the end, she smiles at her handiwork before glancing at Geralt. Giving Roach one last scratch behind the ear, she walks over to him and tucks a strand of milk-white hair behind his ear. 

Geralt looks down at her, and his lips twist in a sinister smile. She yelps as he bends quickly to lift her over his shoulder like she weighs nothing. He grabs the basket on his way out of the stable and walks into the warm, cozy cottage. Setting the basket on the dining table, he continues on his way to her bedroom.

Letting her down, he walks her backward until the backs of her knees meet the edge of the bed. Pushing gently on her chest, he helps her lay back. He kneels on the floor between her spread legs to remove her boots. Smoothing his hands over her stockings, he hooks his fingers in the top of them, guiding them down her toned thighs and calves, letting them pool on the floor.

Wrapping a hand around her foot, he lifts it to kiss her from ankle to thigh. Mirroring the action on the other side, he continues to kiss higher and higher up her leg until his mouth hovers over her apex. His warm breath ghosting over her mound sends a shiver up her spine, making her hips raise slightly.

“Please, Geralt. I need you,” she whispers, her breasts heaving with her erratic breathing.

Leaning in, he licks a stripe between her outer labia, his tongue splitting her in two as it gathers her nectar. Swirling around her engorged nub, he sucks it between his lips. She attempts to enclose his head between her thighs, but he grips her flesh and holds her open to him. When her folds open, he dives in headfirst to lap up the slick that escapes her.

He turns his attention back to her pearl as he begins to use a single finger to tease at her opening. Listening to the sounds she makes, he knows that she is so close. Sliding his finger inside her, he sets an excruciatingly slow pace. Twisting and turning his digit inside her, he feels for her inner bundle of nerves. 

Once he finds it, he inserts another finger. Rubbing small circles into her spongy center, he presses in harder until her walls clamp down around him. He continues to flick his tongue against her sweet spot as she moans and gasps through her climax. When she has calmed down, he removes his fingers and sucks them into his mouth.

He stands, climbing between her legs and pulling his chemise over his head. As he does so, she sits up. She runs her hands over his scarred skin, his yellow eyes following her movement as her hands lower to the hem of his pants. She makes quick work of the buttons and is rewarded when his girthy member springs up in front of her.

She wraps a small hand around him, finding she needs to use both to encircle him. She strokes him slowly, her eyes widening as pre-cum leaks from his thick tip. Using a thumb, she gathers his seed and swirls it around his mushroom head. She leans in, licking a stripe over the underside of his length, earning a low growl from him.

He removes himself from her hands, knowing he won’t last if she uses her hot mouth on him. He kisses the frown off her face, covering her body with his own. “As much as I would love to feel your mouth on me, the urge to be inside you in a different way is much too appealing to ignore,” he hums, using one hand to tease her petals with his erection.

Gathering her wetness, he taps the tip against her sweet spot, then slides between her lower lips. Once sheathed inside her, they hissed in unison. Her, at the feeling of fullness. Him, at the tight fit of her warmth. He sits there, allowing her to get used to his tumescence.

As her legs wrap around his hips, she tilts her pelvis just slightly, and he knows she is ready for him. He retracts his hips until just the head remains inside then thrusts in fully. He does it again and again, setting a punishing pace.

The sounds of her moans and his grunts mixed with the slapping of slick flesh, fill the air. The intoxicating smell of their pheromones blends into a spicy, sweet bouquet. As his hips piston inside her walls, he kisses her yet again, feasting on her lips and taking her breath away.

He breaks the kiss, nibbling her jaw and licking at her sweat-slicked neck. She turns her head to give him better access, whimpering as he sucks a hickey into her flesh. His tongue soothes the tender skin as he feels her depths begin to quiver around him.

He snakes a hand between them to toy with her swollen button. The pad of his thumb brings her to her second orgasm of the night. He picks up the pace as he journeys toward his release. His hips stutter soon enough as he thrusts deep inside her to bury himself to the hilt. He fills her, painting her walls with enough spend that it begins to leak past his softening thickness.

He presses a kiss on her throat before moving to lay next to her once he slips from her folds. He opens his arm, and she rests her head on his chest. Throwing a leg over his, she tangles a hand in his chest hair. 

“I’m so glad you made it back to me, Geralt,” she beams, idly drawing patterns across his skin.

“I told you we would see each other again. No one, man or monster, could keep me away from my love for long,” he reassures, closing his eyes. He hears her heartbeat quicken and smiles to himself.

She lifts her head to look at him, bringing a hand to his face. Raising his head, he meets her lips in an unhurried kiss. He tangles his tongue with hers until he takes the lead. He reaches down to grasp her leg, maneuvering her to be on top as he sits up.

She wraps her arms around his neck, breaking the kiss to rest their foreheads together. “I love you, Geralt.”

He looks into her eyes, seeing their future together in those dark orbs. Savoring this moment, a slow smile spreads across his face. “I love you, Lavinia. Forever and a day.”

“Forever and a day,” she murmurs.

A/N: This is the first time I have written Geralt. I hope I did him justice. He’s my comfort character, after all. This particular Geralt is a mix of the videogame version, the book version, and the Netflix version of him. This version of him smiles and can be soft while still able to use a sword one-handed to take down a foe. *swoon*

**Tag List**

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Let me know if you wanna be added (or removed) 😁If your name is crossed out, I couldn't tag you.

[f0point5]

What if I told you I’m back?

This was a request but tumblr ate, you’ll all just have to believe me. Someone asked for a Max POV during the best friend era. So, I decided to go with this one ✨set 16th April 2018✨ the day after the Chinese GP, because I feel like we don’t talk enough about the early friendship.

I hope this finds its way to whoever sent in the ask and that you enjoy it 🫶

Max almost turns around three times on the way to your building.

The first time, it’s when he realises it’s late, gone ten p.m. on a Monday, you might be asleep. He should go home and come by tomorrow. But you’re a night owl, you won’t be asleep.

The second time, he thinks you won’t be asleep, but you won’t be expecting company. He hasn’t even texted, and he should have, but he left his phone in his jacket which he gave to his concierge to send upstairs with his bags. He shouldn’t intrude. But he’s not exactly company, he’s seen you in your pyjamas, it’s not like he’s suggesting you go out.

The third time, it’s the absurdity of the situation that gives him pause. He hadn’t even set foot in his building before setting off to yours. After three and a half weeks away one more night shouldn’t be a big deal. Maybe you’ll think he’s a bit strange. But equally, it shouldn’t be a big deal to just see you for a minute, right? If only just to give you your present.

He’s surprised by much he found himself missing you. It’s not like he hasn’t been used to being away from his friends and family his whole life, it’s not even like you didn’t talk while he was away. You talked a lot. But, he rationalises, he’d got used to having you around during winter break, you’d hardly been apart. You’d even come home to his mum’s with him just before Christmas. Your presence, your perfume, your way never letting him finish a sentence, it was all normal to him now. It wasn’t that he needed it, just that he had had to learn how to be without it, and that had been harder than anticipated. The last time he’d done that he was eight.

It only occurs to him now, as your building comes into view, that you might not feel the same way. You’d said you’d missed him countless times in the last three and a half weeks, but that didn’t signify. After all, he’d said it maybe twice and he here he was, asleep on his feet but at your door because he didn’t want to go home without seeing you.

He should just go home.

“Max?” No turning back now. He turns around to see you, dressed in a pretty blouse and a short skirt, teetering towards him on stiletto heels. “Maxy, Maxy, Maxy,”

You collide with him before he has a chance to laugh at the way you were squealing like a child. He hugs you back, holding you up when you lift your feet off the floor for a second. He’s half expecting you to smell like a distillery, unable and unwilling to comprehend that your reaction is all your own. But all he smells is your perfume, and it feels like Christmas all over again.

“Hey,” he says, lowering you to the ground and finally getting a good look at you. Your hair’s a little shorter, your face is- no, you couldn’t have gotten prettier. You’re a bit more tanned.

“I thought you were still in China,” you say, squeezing his shoulders. “You look so hungry, have you lost weight?”

“I just got back,” he says with a shrug. You’re almost his height in your heels, he notices for no discernible reason.

You take in his no doubt plane-rumpled appearance. “Did you come straight here?”

“Uh,” he clears his throat. He’s not going to admit that when you’re giving him a warranted look of confusion, but he doesn’t want to lie either. “I brought you a present.” He holds up the package, wrapped poorly on the flight home. Even the flight attendant had given him a sympathetic look as she watched him struggle.

“Aw, thanks,” you say, pressing your key fob against the censor and pulling open the door before Max can get to it. “Come up,”

“Are you sure?”

You give him an incredulous look, lit up by the golden glow of your lobby lights. “Of course,”

You tell him about the dinner you were just getting back from when he arrived, all the way up to your flat. Some people would find it odd or even rude that Max has been a continent away, racing the fastest cars on the planet in front of millions of people, and yet you’re perfectly at ease taking time to talk about your overly creamy pasta. Max likes it, relishes it, even. You’ve never seen him or his job as anything special. He went to work, you went to dinner. It’s normal. Just friends catching up.

You let him into your flat, heading straight for the kitchen, and Max takes the same seat at the breakfast island that he always does. He idly wonders if anyone else has sat in it since he’s been away.

“But then it’s not exactly Naples, you what can you expect. Sometimes I think the French sabotage Italian food on purpose,” you say, filling a wine glass with water from your fridge dispenser. “Great race, by the way. Glad my voodoo worked,”

Max scoffs. “So, you didn’t watch it,” he shakes his head as if that will help the memories fade quicker.

“I did. Got up at the crack of dawn and everything. And I cursed your car not to win,“ you say with a mischievous grin, pulling out a can of red bull from the fridge.

Max frowns. “What the fuck?”

“You can’t win when I’m not there to see it,” you declare, handing him the Red Bull. He reaches to take it, but you don’t let go until he looks at you. “I’d have been devastated,”

For the first time in his life, Max is actually half glad he didn’t win a race.

He chuckles, opening the can with one hand while sliding the gift along the counter towards you with the other.

“Well, I want to win,” he says, as you start picking at the copious amount of sellotape. “So you’ll just have to come to all the races,”

He’s surprised how much he means that.

“Don’t threaten me with a good time, Maxy. Oh my God, you can’t wrap for shit,” you say, finally managing to pull apart first Max’s wrapping, and then the box containing the, “Chopsticks?”

“Very fancy chopsticks,” Max explains. He points to the set of dark wood chopsticks you’re holding, gesturing to the intricate gold figures entwined on the top. “See, one set has dragons and one set has a phoenix? They’re famous in Chinese mythology. The guy said to give It to someone you like, they’re supposed to bring luck. Or something. I didn’t really understand his English,”

You stare at them for a while, a sort of bewildered smile on your face, and Max almost slaps himself. He should have just bought you a handbag. They had a Chanel in China. Why didn’t he just listen to his dad? This sentimental shit is weird and embarrassing and he should have just gone home.

“So,” you say, using the chopsticks to point at Max accusingly as you smirk at him. “You like me now? Who would have thought? After all those years of telling everyone how annoying I was, you like enough to want me to have good luck,”

“You-“ Max fights the urge to argue.

That smug look on your face still triggers him something awful. But behind it is someone who has become important to him. It’s not just that you know things about him that even he’s forgotten, it’s that he doesn’t want there ever be anything you don’t know about him. You him laugh, and he never wants to see you cry, and he’s used to being reviled and admired, and even liked, but you’re the only person who’s ever made him feel this understood.

“You’re my best friend,”

Once, he might have been embarrassed that you don’t say it back, but just like you know him, he knows you now, too. You grin at him, sipping your water as you look at him over the rim of your glass.

“Well, despite the fact that this whole chopstick story sounds like the beginning of an Indiana Jones movie, they’re beautiful, and I love them, and I promise I will only ever use them to eat Chinese food with you,” you say, putting the chopsticks back in their box. “And I’m glad you’re home.”

Max doesn’t say anything, fiddling with the can again, and you sigh.

“When are you leaving again?”

“Um,” he hesitates, like if he doesn’t say it then it won’t happen. He gives up and gives you an apologetic smile. “Thursday. Going to the UK for some work and then straight to Baku,”

“Oh,” your face, falls, and you toy with the stem of your glass, only for a few seconds, before you shrug. “Well, we should have dinner before you go, and then-“

“Do you-“ He cuts himself off, because he knows he should think about this more, but then you’re looking at him and he’s done thinking. “Do you want to come?”

“To the UK?”

“Yeah,” Max mumbles, looking down at his Red Bull as his fingers fiddle with the tab. “And to Baku,” he glances up to see your reaction, “and, I mean, anywhere,” he adds a shrug, because, obviously, the invitation is totally casual.

You shrug back. “Okay,”

He can hear his dad already, complaining about how you’re a distraction, you bring cameras and drama, how Max gives you too much of his attention on race weekends. But there’s worse things than Jos’s moaning, like not seeing you for another two weeks.

He barely has time to think about that before a Chinese takeout menu slides into his vision. He looks up at you, confused. “Didn’t you eat?”

“Yeah, but it doesn’t look like you have in about a week. You are starting to get Cillian Murphy cheekbones,” you grimace. Max has no idea who that is but based on your face he doesn’t want to look like him. “And besides, I want to test out these magic chopsticks,”

[giggly-squiggily]

ler!chigiri w/ an s/o reader with really stiff shoulder and a sore back and he massages it for her but he gets a little too close to sides/neck/lower back and NO IT TICKLES SO BAD and then hes like teasing her (u can do g/n too) and stuff and just ASJHAS

(for the limited requests thing)

THANK YOU SO MUCH HAVE A NICE DAY

{REQUEST ARE CLOSED! This is an older one!}

No cause the way I couldn't freaking find this dang thing until now-

ANON! :D Hi! Yes! This lovely request! :3 I thought Tumblr ate it and then I found it through mobile and just- anyway! I love Chigiri so much, and this request is beautiful! I did end up making it more a proper tickle fight, but I kept in a good portion of Ler!Chigiri for you! As all of my Reader fics, they are gender neutral for inclusivity! I hope you like it :D

Cloud 9 (Taglist Peeps):

@cupcake-spice13 @chibisstuff @imjusthere07 @riisada

“That’s a new position.” Chigiri blinked at you over his book, watching you back bend as far as you could with a low groan. “Trying out for the next exorcist movie?”

“If the pay is in spa tickets, sign me up.” You leaned back a bit further, only to lose your balance and fall. Before you could hurt yourself, Chigiri was right there, catching you in his lap. “Whoa- my hero.” You smiled up at him- it fading some at his concerned look. “What?”

“Does your back hurt that bad?” He asked gently, brows furrowing when you nodded.

“Thought if I tried popping it it’d feel better, but I was wrong.” You sat up, rolling your shoulders and neck with a small groan. “I’ll be fine- I just need to run a hot bath and take some painkillers. That’ll solve it.”

“Sounds good..hey, do you-erm..” Chigiri took your hand before you could stand, suddenly shy. You watched him fumble with his words, cheeks pink as he cleared his throat. “Do you want me to erm…help?”

You blinked. “With my bath?” You asked, grinning slyly as you watched him blush more and stammer.

“No, with your back! I can massage it for you.” He quickly got out, slightly glaring as you giggled. “I used to do it all the time for the guys back in Blue Lock- what, what?” He fumed more as you laughed harder, a hand over your mouth to hide your smile.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry- I’m still thinking of your face!” You snickered, leaning in and pecking his lips before he could fuss. “But seriously; if you’re offering. I’d love a massage, Hyoma. Thank you.”

Chigiri tried to stay pouty, but another few pecks to his face had him giggling softly and lightly shoving your shoulder. “Okay okay- fine. Get on the couch.”

~~~

“Hmmmm..” You let out a low sound as he dug at the knots in your shoulders, the initial pain fading into relief as he went. “That’s nice…”

“I’m glad- any way I can help I will.” He smiled down at you, comfortable sitting on your hips as he pressed along. “Let me know if I need to lighten the pressure.”

You gave a lazy thumbs up as you rested, closing your eyes. He had magic hands, you’ve decided at that moment. His earlier comment came back to you then. He gave massages to the guys back in Blue Lock?

Team Z must have been truly blessed.

While you lingered on that thought, you didn’t notice Chigiri’s hands getting closer to your armpits- the touch growing lighter and lighter until…

“AH!” You arched with a squeal, arms shooting down and a foot kicking. Behind you, Chigiri giggled. “Hyoma!”

“Sorry- I was thinking of your face.” He threw your earlier words back at you as he carried on “massaging” your armpits, prodding and pressing as you squeaked and thrashed beneath him. “You’re just so cute when you laugh, I wanted to see it again. Or at least- hear it anyway.”

Aheahhahahhaha! H-Hyohohohohoma-AHAHAH!” His hands dropped briefly to your ribs, running up and down your sides as you twisted against the couch. It was a precarious development; you didn’t want to send him flying at risk of his knee injury, but also didn’t want to remain lying there and taking it! Decisions decisions..

“Heh, you’re really adorable when you laugh, (Y/N). I could do this forever.” Chigiri dropped his hands to your hips, squeezing. “I just might- I wanna tickle you until the sound of your precious laugh is forever ingrained in my brain. I wanna be able to hear it even when you’re not around.”

Oh hell no, he did not just sweet talk you-

Face on fire and heart racing, you felt yourself filled with a new sense of determination as you twisted, somehow flipping onto your back without knocking him over. “Cohohohome hehehere!” You cried at his surprised expression, grabbing into his sleeves and pulling.

“Wait, wahhait the masahhahahahahahahhge!” Chigiri yelped before bursting into giggles, weakly pawing at your hands as they squeezed his sides rapidly. “(Y/N)! Aheahhahahahah!”

“What? Huh? Sorry- I was too busy laughing at your face!” You crooned back, bursting into giggles once more when he went back to tickling. “H-hhehehey, no! It’s miihihihy tuhuhurn!”

“Nohoho wahahahy! Yohohou geheheht th-ihiihihihihihis! Ehehahahhaha nohhohoho!” Chigiri laughed just as much, both tickling and trying to block your hands from his knees. “Nohohohot thehehehehre!”

“Yhehehes thehehe-EHEHEHE!” Your efforts to go for his worst spot were thumped when he went for your stomach, making you crumble. “STAHAHAHP!”

“YOHOHOU STHAHAP! EHHEEHE!”

Your tickle fight carried on- both of you laughing and attacking each other. Eventually though, it all came to an end; both of you simultaneously giving up and collapsing into the couch.

“Ahehehe..ehhehehee..ghohohd.” You groaned, chest light and body feeling significantly better. “Hehehey, I feheheel behehehtter.”

“Pfft- grhehahhat.” Chigiri laughed, scooting up so he could lay beside you, pulling you into his chest. “Glahahad to hehelp.”

“Hmm.” You smiled and closed your eyes, legs intertwined and arms around each other. You could fall asleep like this…

“Hm. Hyoma?” You poked him gently, watching him open an eye. “I’m hungry. Can we order food?”

He blinked, then he laughed, pressing his face against the crown of your head. “Yeah, we can order food.”

“Yay.”

Thanks for reading!

[seawing-vibes]

HI THAT WAS ME IM SORRY TUMBLR ATE UR ASK. PERIL IS TRANS I KNOW HER ALSO INTEGRAL TO HER CHARACTER AND IM THE ONLY ONE WHO SEES IT(THATS BASICALLY THE ASK)

HII NO NEED TO BE SORRY TUMBLRS SYSTEM IS ASS!! THANK YOU SM FOR RESENDING THE ASK A <33 OKAY PERIL POST DO-OVER!!

SPECTRUM USED FROM THIS POST!!!!!!!!!

OKAY SO I JUST DECIDED TO FILL THE WHOLE THING OUT! I headcanon Peril as Intersex and nonbinary!! AND SAME FOR ME, they fall fight between “I know them” and “their lore is literally impacted by their transsexualism”!! Peril is a very Nonbinary character to me, the way she was raised to view things as very “black & white” and hosting a sense of little self autonomy— makes them finding a comfortable identity in a very “”in the middle”” gender compelling! Especially within the understanding of how Peril was raised and brought up in someone else’s vision, being able to find self-identity in that nature of breaking down the “black & white” structure that was forced on them through the act of finding identity in neutrality. I find the development of self-love extended through gender expression in that nature something that works well in-unison with Peril’s pre-existing themes! Especially in regards to the layered metaphors of the Necklace. As a nonbinary person myself - I found that to be a pinnacle moment of forced suppression of identity into something more “palatable” to the public perception - in this analysis that being the forcing of femininity onto a gnc aligning identity - speaking to the way many nonbinary identity’s are expected to lean “one direction or the other”. So that moment being involved in Perils story - and her breaking free of it and having a self-realization/control moment - very reflective of nonbinary/gender non conforming experiences !!

With that though - thats just my own interpretation and connection to those aspects of Peril’s characterization! I find her lore and themes within her character to speak to many universal experiences of identity that can be interpreted in a fluid way. Like I personally read it as a very compelling arc about non-conformity and applied my own experiences with gender expression onto it, but other interpretations/analyses are just as strong! Thats why I put this headcanon in the middle, because I find it connects heavily to their lore, but is similarly just an extension of it and not necessarily interwoven in-full. Its a lot of personal interpretation which is why the personable “I know them” also 100% fits my perception of transgenderism onto Peril <33

Also the Intersex headcanon is purely a me thing, I always thought Peril was intersex just like. Factually lmao (one of those “I somehow convinced myself this was canon and was surprised to learn it was not” moments lmao). The reason I included it as well is because within my headcanon I think Peril would similarly absorb her being intersex to a further extension of gender identity! Again, breaking down those “black & white” views that were forced on them through themself - literally! Notably being intersex does not inherently mean gender identity is going to be impacted as well, just for this headcanon I feel Peril’s relationship to their gender identity would be strongly impacted by them being intersex <3 !!

OKAY SORRY THIS GOT LONG BUT THIS WAS FUN TO WRITE! TWICE ! LMAO! I have lots of thoughts on these guys so feel free to ask any questions about the other characters if ya want!!! I have many thoughts lmao…

Also I love analyzing these dragons so if anyone has a different interpretation of the characters & wanna share PLEASE DO!!!! I love hearing other perspectives, especially if they contrast my own interpretations, it’s all so cool!!!! <333

[atlasofthestaars]

[MK X READER] New Era - Chapter .007

first part | previous part | next part

NOTE:  Lots of fluff this time, hope you enjoyed! I uh, hurried to get this out before my work LMAO

Time for yet another poll this time about Kitana! These should be stopping soon, but I want to cram these all in before the Outworld Tourney arc so I can plan it out properly! 

As usual leave your thoughts, and I will be taking them into consideration up until a week after this chapter, aka when the tumblr poll ends.

About three chapters left of original content before rejoining with the main plot! I don’t think there are many other characters that people are interested in polling for after Kitana and Havik, but just know that chapter 10 is probably the last time I will accepting asks for love interests since by then I do want to cement how the characters will interact with the reader before we head off to Outworld.

FROM THE EYES OF ONE WHO GETS A LITTLE CLOSER WITH OTHERS

Turns out that movie night is what you needed.

It didn’t fix all your problems, certainly not. If only it did. You still struggle with sleeping still. You aren’t certain how you were able to fall asleep so easily in that room, but you weren’t able to fall asleep quite as nicely afterwards.

You still worry and struggle to relax, and you weren’t certain if you were going to ever find a permanent solution to that. But you were inspired by Johnny to take up more activities to help loosen up more. You began to cook more, trying to chase the perfection that was Madam Bo’s cooking from the recipes that she had taught you. 

You ended up cooking more than you often needed, and outside of meal times, you were often too embarrassed to ask Liu Kang to help eat the food. You weren’t even certain if the fire god even enjoyed eating, or ate to simply accompany you so you did not eat alone. You always wondered that, but found it to be too awkward of a question to ask. Plus, he seemed happy enough to eat your cooking.

Nevertheless, you had a surplus of food that you could not throw away, so you thought of a different solution.

“You don’t have to give me this.” Kenshi said, a look of confusion on his face as you handed him a neatly packed box of food. It was still warm and you could faintly smell the goodness that was inside. Despite his words, you held it out to him insistently to the point where he took the food into his hands, a confused look on his face. 

“No, no I insist!” You say, brushing it off. “I’ve recently taken up cooking as a hobby again, so I’ve been cooking more than I usually do.” You explained, crossing your arms so the man could not hand back the food you had given him. “I don’t want food to go to waste, so I insist, really. Plus, I figured you’d be someone who would help critique me on what I need to improve.”

“Wouldn’t Kung Lao be better for this?” Kenshi inquired, though he did not look as against the situation as he originally did. He lifted the box up slightly, trying to examine the pristine way you had wrapped and packed the food. “He’s the one who likes food the best out of all of us.”

“He enjoys any food, he’d just eat it and compliment me to see if he could get more.” You pointed out, having thought this out. “Raiden would be too nice, he’d say I tried hard on it even if it was horribly seasoned and burnt. Johnny might have been a good choice, but I also think he might take me giving him food the wrong way.”

“I see.” The swordsman said, taking another look over the packaged food another time. You felt proud of yourself for how neatly you had done it. He paused, before sending you a small smile, and you mentally pat yourself on the back. “Thank you then, I’ll make sure to give you a thorough review of it.” 

“Good, because there will be plenty more where that came from.” You said confidently as you quickly shooed him off. “Now go back to training.” You nagged him. “And let me get out of here before Johnny Cage makes fun of me for being here on my off time again.” You whispered, scanning the area for the actor. 

You quickly left, leaving Kenshi standing there with a slightly stupefied expression. He glanced down at the box, a small smile on his lips. 

When was the last time he had tasted a home cooked meal made with care?

Sneaking a peek around the area, his curiosity tempted him too hard. He pulled at the packaging you put thought into, and opened the lid. It looked like the definition of made with love. He grabbed the utensils you had given him, and took a bit of the food, too curious about it.

It tasted amazing.

“You’re free to do whatever, just don’t kick their asses too hard.” 

It was a month after your short break, and despite your visit to the Lin Kuei temple a long while ago, it was only until now that Smoke could make time to help out your group. 

You shot the gray haired man a grin as you walked down the halls with the man. He let out a chuckle at your instruction, raising an eyebrow. The man seemed confident, probably due to you hyping him up for this day. You knew he would provide just the perfect challenge.

“Let me give you the rundown.” You said as you continued to guide him. “Kung Lao, you remember him, is doing great. He does have a bit of an ego though, so feel free to knock him down a peg. Raiden, the other person from the exam, is also doing well, but don’t let his innocent looking face take you off guard. Feel free to also go a bit harder on him, he needs the push.”

“It sounds like you want me to beat up your students rather than test them.” Tomas pointed out an amused tone in his voice as he glanced over to you. He was very expressive with his eyes, which was a trait you were thankful for since he was wearing his mask today for training. 

“Isn’t that the Lin Kuei way?” You teased before sighing as you put a hand on your left rib cage. “It’s been years, and I swear Bi-Han left a permanent bruise from his intensity.” You huffed. “Anyways, for the other two, let’s see…” You paused, thinking of what to say. “Johnny has a flashy way of fighting, don’t let the look of his fighting deter you, no matter how impractical it may look, he can still land a solid punch.” You let out another scoff. “Also, don’t let his words, whether positive or negative, take you off guard, he’s a real charmer.”

“What do you mean?”

“He’s an actor, he has a way with words. He might try to butter you up so you’ll go easy on him. Or try to cast you in his movies.” You informed him, remembering back to the first time Johnny had tried to get you to join his movies after the tournament. “You’ll see what I mean.”

“Duly noted.” Smoke nodded, but you had a sense that you probably made him more curious rather than cautious. You watched as he subconsciously spun the karambit he fought with on his finger, doing tricks with it absentmindedly.

“Anyways, Kenshi has some more…practical practice with fighting, so he’s also a threat to look for.” You continued, purposefully being vague with Kenshi’s past for the sake of his privacy. “He fights with a katana, so I suppose you’ll be out ranged.” You pointed out, gesturing to the much shorter dagger he wielded.

“Don’t worry, I’ll find a way to close the gap.” The Lin Kuei man said, with a tone of confidence in his words. You smiled, remembering your old spars with him. He was always tricky to fight against, being able to easily slip in a fight to get right where he wanted. “Any other advice you have for me?”

“Nope, like I said, you’re pretty much free to do what you want.” You said with a small shrug. “They’ll learn a lot from fighting you.” 

The two of you made your way to the courtyard, where the group was gathered. They were waiting, and you could tell that it had probably only been a few minutes since the last master had been training with them.

“Gentlemen, I present with you today, a different person to spar.” You greeted as you rounded the corner with Smoke in tow. You gestured to your friend, a smile on your lips. “This is Tomas, otherwise known as Smoke. He’s from the Lin Kuei. and I chose him to help train you today.”

“Lin Kuei? Like the ones who broke my Hichuli?” Johnny asked, as he looked towards Smoke. He observed him for a moment before pointing at him. “Nice mask, by the way.” He commented before looking towards you again.

From the corner of your eye, you watched as Smoke was surprised by Johnny’s compliment.

“I remember you from the test.” Kung Lao said, walking up to take a closer look at the guest. He sized him up and down, crossing his arms as he did so. “We’re better trained now.” He declared, referring to Raiden and himself with confidence, “We can take you on without you pulling your punches.”

“Be careful what you wish for, Kung Lao.” You warned, sending him a look. “You may have been progressing very well with your training, but Tomas here is still a trained hunter, you know.” You gestured towards the gray clad man who took your praise well, but there was a hint of bashfulness you could glean from his face. 

“It is an honor to have you with us here, today.” Raiden spoke, bowing towards Smoke with utmost respect. You smiled, pleased at the respect he displayed. You could always rely on him to be modest. You watched as Kenshi also nodded in his direction. 

“Kung Lao, since you’re so confident, go ahead and step right up first.” You instructed, nodding towards Smoke who stepped forward to take the challenge. You crossed your arms and observed, feeling satisfied as you were proven right that Smoke provided just the right amount of challenge. He could do what the rest of you could not: attack from all sorts of angles with his teleportation techniques.

As Smoke finally knocked over the farmer, you strode over. You held a hand out for the man.

“Good job.” You praised both of the men. You gripped Kung Lao’s hand firmly as he grabbed yours, hoisting him up. You felt Kung Lao squeeze your hand briefly before releasing it, and you mentally noted how his hand felt with the callouses.

“You’ve improved since the exam.” Smoke added in, brushing himself off too. Even though Kung Lao had been ultimately beaten, you could see that he had still given the Lin Kuei member a run for his money at times. 

“Thank you.” Kung Lao said, seeming to have been humbled a bit more. An enthusiastic look appeared on his face as he tilted his head towards the two of you. “Soon enough I’ll be able to beat you though.” He said with confidence. “Especially when I get my hat.” He said, his tone dripping with excitement as he glanced at you before walking off to the side to rest up.

“A story for another time.” You said as Smoke sent you a curious look. “Kenshi!” You called the previous gang member up, and stepped back to observe the fight from the sidelines. You had your students rotate through, each of them fighting Smoke one on one. After the last match, you called for a break, letting them catch their breaths, especially Smoke who had been fighting all this time.

“You’re really making me work.” Smoke commented lightly as he took the water you handed him. 

“Just as you did when I helped you.” You reminded him, remembering how many Lin Kuei recruits he had made you spar on that day when you visited the temple. “Don’t think I forgot.” You teased as you brushed past him, purposely bumping into his shoulder in a playful manner. You felt his stare on you as you walked away to go talk to your students.

You approached all of them, giving tips to them, explaining what they could improve when they were called up to fight Smoke for another round. You smiled as you watched them absorb the information. Soon, you sent them all back to fight the Lin Kuei member once more.

“Alright, you’re all dismissed.” You declared as Kung Lao finished his round, you chose for him to go last this time since he went first the first round. You clapped your hands, and they nodded as they dispersed. You watched as both Kenshi and Smoke approached you, only for Johnny to distract the Lin Kuei member and whisk him away.

You’d have to make sure that the actor wasn’t roping the poor man into anything later.

“What’s up?” You inquired as the swordsman approached, but you had an inkling of an idea of what it was about, after all you’ve been hearing his food critiques for about a month now.

“The food today was great, as usual.” Kenshi informed you with a soft smile. He had certainly warmed up to you much more ever since your food gifting had begun. “I did notice though that…” And he went off on a small talk about your food, giving you helpful criticisms as usual. He was always honest, and seemed to put great thought into his reviews, which you dearly appreciated.

It felt all too familiar, and you felt nostalgia pull at your heart. While you didn’t have too many memories of Kenshi in your past life, you had enough to remember that he must have been a close confidant. Why else would you care so much about his opinions?

“I’ll be sure to do that next time.” You said, but your mind drifted off. While you had been cooking mainly Chinese cuisine, you briefly considered trying out Japanese cuisine for Kenshi. You opened your mouth to ask for his favorite food, but considered against it.

Maybe you can surprise him instead.

You think you remembered what you believed was his favorite food from the hazy memories that you had sorted through. You made a mental note to visit Madam Bo soon to try to ask for some advice for cooking it. After all, she was the best chef you knew.

You watched with a silent pride as the man walked off after giving you his short food review. You felt a presence approaching you, and you turned to see Tomas approaching with raised eyebrows. You returned his confused expression.

“You feed your students?” He asked, a tone of curiosity…and another emotion you couldn’t quite place. You let out a small laugh as you nodded.

“You overheard?” You asked, but you knew already that he must have if he was asking about it. You placed a hand on your hip. “I do, but just to Kenshi. I’ve been practicing the recipes that Madam Bo taught me, and I usually make too much and give some to him. He helps me out by critiquing them.”

“I see.” Smoke said, nodding. He paused for a moment, a look of consideration crossing his face. “All these years of knowing you, and I don’t think I’ve tried your cooking, I’m hurt.” He said, his voice taking a teasing tone at the end. You scoffed and rolled your eyes to match his playful energy.

“It’s nothing special, if you want real good food, you should try Madam Bo’s, she’s the real master.” You said, moving to cross your arms. “But now that you’ve mentioned it, you’re right. I haven’t cooked for you before.” You paused and considered something. “Maybe one day I should.”

“I’d like that.” Tomas said, his eyes crinkling at the edges as you assumed he smiled at you. You returned the smile.

“I’ll make plans for it, then.” You said, trying to think of an appropriate time to cook for him…or maybe you should invite the other Lin Kuei ninjas too. You began to calculate in your head some plans. It was only until you saw Smoke extend his pinky in front of your face that your train of thought was derailed. “A pink promise?” You inquire with a mock offended tone, “What, you don’t trust me?”

“I do, I just want an excuse to hold it over you in case you forget.” Tomas said. letting out a small laugh. You sighed dramatically as you rolled your eyes. Nevertheless, you extended your pinky and hooked it around his, playing along.

It was a little silly, but seeing the promise between you was a bit charming. A small delightful tingle was left on your skin where it had made contact with his as your pinkies unraveled from his. You wondered briefly if it was a side effect of his power, but didn’t try to question it too much, just savoring how it felt.

“I’ll hold you to your word, then.”

“The first prototype of Kung Lao’s hat is here.” 

Turning around, you saw Liu Kang approach as he carried a small box. You approached him, grabbing the box from his hands. It was lighter than you expected, and walked over to set it down on a table so you could inspect it properly.

It took longer than you were expecting to get this first prototype. Another month had passed between when you had Smoke help you and now. The days seemed to be passing quickly, and the months leading to the Outworld tournament were dwindling slowly.

You weren’t certain to be nervous about the time to train these men were quickly running out, or to be excited that soon you were going to finally visit Outworld.

“Interesting.” You remarked as you held up the razor sharp ring of metal up from out of the box. It seemed it was the main blade that was supposed to attach to the edge of the hat. For now, it was still unattached. You were careful as you traced the edge of the blade, but hissed as you accidentally cut yourself on it. “Sharper than it looks.”

“Indeed.” Liu Kang said. you saw a crease of worry appear on his face as he noticed the look of pain on your face. You set down the blade, going to go inspect your finger where it had cut you. You squinted down, seeing a bead of blood beginning to form. It was a bigger cut than you were ready for, it extended to two of the joints of your pointer finger.

Carefully, the fire god grabbed your hand. You blinked owlishly as he carefully lifted up your hand to inspect it, not knowing what to exactly say or do. He let out a small hum as he noticed the small amount of blood. As if he were touching something delicate, he wiped away the blood with his thumb.

His touch was always so gentle, so warm.

“You carry a medical kit with you, yes?” The protector of Earthrealm inquired. You nodded, not noticing how you were spaced out. You reached around to grab it out of your pocket. You handed it to him, feeling a bit touched he remembered that fact about you. 

Liu Kang took it from you, and you watched as he carefully took the supplies out of the pack. He carefully made sure to clean the blood away before he spread some petroleum jelly on your skin. You tried not to flinch at the contrast of the cold jelly and his warm skin. Then, he carefully wrapped your finger up with a band aid.

“Thank you.” You quickly said, briefly stupefied at the actions of the god. You could have cleaned and mended your cut yourself, and yet you found yourself not wanting to mention that fact to him. Maybe he just thought it was easier for him to patch your wounds for you. There was no reason to overthink things, the fire god was just as friendly to you as he is to everyone else.

Surely.

“No problem.” Liu Kang replied warmly as he packed up your medical pack and handed it back to you. You swallowed as you took it back, tucking the pack back into one of your pockets. You avoided his glowing eyes as you picked up the box.

“It’s time to deliver this to Kung Lao.” You announced, before walking briskly off. You tried not to think about why you were all of a sudden feeling tongue tied over such a small gesture. You ignored how you felt his stare linger on you for maybe a little too long as you walked off.

You were overthinking things lately, honestly.

“This looks better than I envisioned!” Kung Lao marveled as he looked over the blade you were presenting to him. You basked in the beam he sent your way, and you felt a sense of satisfaction wash over you as you were watching the man’s dream come to life before your very eyes. 

And you were the cause of it.

“I think it looks good too.” You remarked. You instinctively pulled the blade away as Kung Lao tried to touch the edge. You had been reminded of what happened earlier, and ignored how your face wanted to warm up at the memory. “Be careful, the blade is sharper than it looks.” You warn. You hesitate for a moment, before gently handing it to him.

You probably shouldn’t be as cautious as you were being. He was going to wield this razor hat one way or another. You watched with bated breath as he took it from you. Your nerves turned to pride as you watched him inspect it, flipping it over as he murmured to himself.

It felt right, watching him with the blade. Why were you so worried in the first place?

“Oh, and here’s the hat, compare it to the blade to see if you like the fit.” You remarked as you stooped down to pick it up. You heard the sound of metal falling as you lifted the hat up. You looked down, puzzled, as you knelt down to inspect it.

It was a small piece of metal. It had no marks, but it was too small to be any piece of a blade. Was this a piece of scrap metal? You chose not to question it, grabbing it as you stood up. You handed the hat to him, along with the piece of metal.

“Here’s the hat.” You started, before gesturing to the small piece of metal. “Not sure what this is for, but this was also in there too.” You said, shrugging. You watched as he gladly took the hat. There was a look of recognition that appeared on his face as he saw the piece of metal in your hand. He quickly snatched it out of your hand before tucking it away in a pocket.

Odd, but it wasn’t suspicious enough to question him. Or at least, you weren’t bothered enough to.

“Thanks!” He said. You watched as he put the blade along the edge of the hat. Carefully, he put the hat on, holding the blade to the edge with his hands. He tilted the hat down, masking the fact that he had to hold the blade and the hat together by striking a pose. “How do I look?”

A wave of nostalgia washed over you as you looked at the pose. You don’t remember when was the last time you had been hit with it this strongly. You were speechless as you looked at him. You knew he wanted to make a hat with multiple blades, but something about a simple blade hat felt right.

Maybe you should try and make him a different version of this hat, one that felt closer to the memories you had. 

A small memory of teasing and laughing with a much cockier version of Kung Lao filled your mind as you looked fondly at the man. You sucked in a breath as you nodded.

“You look great.” You complimented, and you truly meant it. “The hat really suits you, I can’t wait to see how it’ll look when it’s finished.” You watched as a grin grew on Kung Lao’s face, and you spotted a bit of pink on his cheeks. He seemed to absorb the praise well, and for a moment you almost reconsidered taking back the compliment. It was clearly letting it inflate his ego.

Then again, it made him happy, so you said nothing to rain on his parade.

“Of course I do.” Kung Lao said smugly as he took the hat off. He looked at it again, the same way you would think a father would look at their own kid. You held back a chuckle. He was really enthusiastic about this hat, wasn’t he?

“You can mess with it for a while, whether it be practicing with the blade or making notes for the blacksmith.” You informed him. “I’ll be taking it back with the box whenever you are ready to return it to get it worked on again.” 

“Got it.” He nodded. “Thanks for this, again.” You watched as the Fengjian farmhand took one last look at the hat before stowing again in the box and running off. Whether it was to test out the blade or to make design notes, you weren’t sure. 

Either way, you felt happy.

“You’ve improved a lot.” You remark as you watch Raiden run through a combination again. He was a far cry from the man you remembered from the beginning. You looked up at the stars, reflecting back to those days with a wistful look.

Time was passing by fast, and you were reminded of that as you noted how much more confident Raiden seemed in his strikes. You crossed your arms as you fixed the man with a stare, watching him take pause after he finished the combination.

“Really?” He asked, a small smile on his face. He had an almost shy look on his face as he turned to look at you. You nodded in response, and he stood there for a moment before looking away. “How so?” He asked, a curious look on his face.

“Well, for one, you’re not making as many mistakes anymore.” You pointed out, holding back a small chuckle. “Actually, do that combination again.” You said, finding it ironic that you were probably going to have to take back the praise you had just given him,

You watched him as he did the combination again, and noticed the error in his form. You couldn’t help the laugh that left your lips. The irony of it all.

“Okay, poor timing.” You remarked. You tried instructing him on how to correct him form, but watched as he kept on missing the critical error. You felt a bit bad, maybe it was because you had just been mentioning how he had been improving and now he was a bit psyched out. You walked up to him. “Here, you need to land like this.”

Gently, you grabbed his arms and moved them into the proper position. You twisted his hands to face the right way. Then, you nudged his legs apart to make sure they were spaced apart properly. You hummed as you leaned in close, inspecting his form now. 

“Just like that.” You said softly, as you removed your hands from him. You backed up, looking him up and down. You looked up to his face, raising an eyebrow as you saw him avoid eye contact, his face a bit pink. “You understand now, Raiden?”

“Um, I…” Raiden stumbled on his words, his voice a little panicked as he looked down at himself before nodding. “Yes, I get it now.” He said quickly. You tilted your head, a bit confused at his change in demeanor. 

“It’s okay if you don’t.” You reassured him, sensing he was nervous. Was he all caught up in trying to be perfect after your praise? You had a feeling that wasn’t the reason, but you couldn’t quite understand what else it would be. “I didn’t mean to make you feel bad by praising you then correcting you.” You told him, trying to make sure he felt better. “I can help correct your form again if you need me to.”

“I should be good.” The former Fengjian farmhand said, his voice still a bit antsy. He shifted out of the form before facing the dummy. He took in a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. You nodded at him, and watched with satisfaction as he did the combination much better this time. “How was that?” He asked, a bit skeptical of his own performance.

“Excellent.” You praised, clapping your hands. “See, even if you mess up, you take critiques very well.” You pointed out with a smile. “It’s honestly impressive how quickly you can adapt sometimes now.” You continued. “I don’t think I was as quick of a learner as you are.”

“Really?” Raiden inquired, his eyebrows rising in surprise. “I can hardly imagine you not being excellent at fighting.” He commented, rubbing the back of his neck. “You just seem to be so talented at it, in all honesty. It’s admirable.”

“You flatter me too much.” You said, but still took the praise happily. You’d never admit it, but you enjoyed it whenever people praised your fighting skills. “I just have a lot of experience under my belt.” How much training you truly had, you had no idea, but he didn’t need to know that detail. “I do want you to know that I truly mean it when I say you’ve improved greatly, despite what just happened.”

“You are too kind.” Raiden said, nodding his head at your praise. “I hope to live up to your expectations for me.” 

“Oh Raiden,” You chuckled, covering your smile with your hand. You looked at the man fondly, shaking your head. “You already have.” You admitted. And it was true, he always went above and beyond for training, putting in more hours than anyone else did. He was truly dedicated to getting better.

The bashful look on his face, you had to admit, was rather amusing. You grinned. You felt bad, it was almost a bit fun to try and tease the man and see what got him flustered. Maybe you were being a bit of a bully, but you would never really admit that.

“I’ve only managed to get this far because I have such a wonderful mentor.” Raiden said, and you felt a bit warm as he turned the praise back on you. Sure, he had praised you just recently, but there was something about the way he said it that made this particular compliment feel special. The smile that decorated his face only added to it. “So, thank you.”

“For what?”

“For being such a wonderful person.”

part eight

[musings-of-a-rose]

For the "Leave the first sentence of a fic in my askbox" game:

I thought I knew what love was, but then I met him.

The Meaning of Love

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x f!reader

Word Count: 1026

Rating: Mature - 18+ ONLY!

Warnings: Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story. 

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**Reader is not described

Main Masterlist

Bucky Barnes Masterlist

Life comes with expectations. Everyone told me to go to college, get a degree, find a nice man, get married, start a family, grow old together. I intended to do just that, sort of floating through life, not unhappy but not entirely happy either. Like I hadn’t found the exact fit. 

Then I met Jeremy and my life became brighter. We met my senior year of college, literally bumping into each other in the bookstore on campus. He’d spilled coffee all down my front and I laughed, as I’d had to change my shirt earlier that day for doing the exact same thing to myself. He was studying business, his days spent mostly in the library with his nose buried in books or online, trying to keep up with the latest business trends. I was majoring in elementary education with a minor in creative writing, so I definitely spent my fair share in the library too. 

Wherever we went, we had a good time. Jeremy was respectful and kind to me, always making sure I ate, knowing that often I’d forget to. We were together about 6 months before confessing our love for one another, and at a year, he asked me to move in with him. We were well on our way to finishing the typical expectations. Everyone kept asking me if he’d popped the question or when he was going to put a ring on it. We talked about marriage and it was something we were both interested in. It was the normal flow of life.

What no one expected was for me to suddenly gain powers, become what people call an inhuman. 

It happened randomly one day. I was out for a run when suddenly, I tripped. But instead of slamming my palms into the ground, it cracked beneath me, ripples of concrete fanning out from where my palms hovered above the ground. I scrambled back and landed on my ass, scooting backwards from the partially sunken sidewalk. My breath shaking, I look at my hands - not a mark on them. It was probably nothing. A coincidence. But what else could do this?

I called Jeremy as I walked home quickly, asking him what could have caused the sidewalk to crack like that. Of course he was quick to tell me to sue the county, that the sidewalk was dangerous and could’ve seriously injured me. That was just the way he was.

I got home and took a shower, letting the hot water cascade over my shoulders, willing them to relax as I looked down at my palms again. I was so focused on what I was doing, I didn’t hear Jeremy come in. When he touched my shoulder I jumped, my hands coming up to shield myself. But then Jeremy flew back against the door, his back nearly leaving an imprint in the shape of him. 

“I’m so sorry!” I started to cry, looking down at my palms and back at Jeremy. “I don’t know what’s happening to me!”

“Y-you did this?” He choked out, staring at me.

I nod. “I thought the sidewalk was random but this? I don’t…I don’t know what’s happening to me.”

He started to stand up and I took a step towards him, but he threw his hands up, fear flooding his eyes.

“Stay back!”

I stopped. “Jeremy? What..what do you mean?”

His hand scrambles for the door handle, hand scraping against the wood. “Don’t come any closer!”

“Jer..it’s me. I just..I don’t know what’s happening. I need help.” I take another step but he finds the handle and turns it, running out the door but not before he looks at me, fear and anger in his gaze.

“Get away from me, you freak!”

—----

That was 10 years ago. I never saw Jeremy again after that night and I rarely dated, never trusting anyone fully. If Jeremy could be so in love with me and leave me in an instant, how could I ever trust again?

I never went into teaching. No one wanted an inhuman teaching their kids. I did discover more about myself, what it meant to be an inhuman. Someone with powers. But I never trusted anyone. 

Then Clint Barton found me, alone and living in my car. He offered me his hand and told me to come with him, that I would be more than welcome at the Avenger compound. Unfortunately, people there still walked on eggshells around me, never sure if I’d “go off”. Then one day, a firm knock raps on my door and I answer it, breath catching in my throat at the most beautiful, troubled man I’ve ever laid eyes on.

Bucky Barnes, aka The Winter Soldier.

He looked like he was bracing for the worst, for my eyes to go wide and to retreat back into my room. But it was very much the opposite, my curious eyes tracing down his metal arm and landing on the bluest eyes I’ve ever seen.

“Clint told me you needed training?”

“Oh. Uh I guess so?”

“Come on.”

Bucky trained me how to control my powers, using the skills he learned since getting rid of the brainwashing Hydra had put there. He taught me how to use my powers for my own self, using them to protect others. But he also taught me that in my solace, in others fear of me, fear of myself, of my own power, that I was not alone. He had been through the same thing and was still battling it himself. We eventually found ourselves pressed together, my legs and heart opening to accept him, all of him, as he whispered praises and love in my ear, our bodies melting together.

I thought I knew what love was, but then I met him. Bucky was the missing piece of my life that I had been waiting for. He sees me, loves me for me, isn’t afraid of me. And all of that love and adoration is reflected back at him through my eyes. I can’t imagine my life without him and I know I’ll follow him past the end of the line. 

—----

General Taglist:

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[snippychicke]

Legend of the Selkie and the Pirate --Two--

Fandom: One Piece (LA mainly)

Rating: Teen/mature (we have non-graphic nudity stated)

Pairing: Buggy/Selkie!Reader

Warnings: None except heartbreak?

Summary: Even in a world of monsters, devil fruits, pirates, and fishmen, selkies were considered a myth. Especially in the East Blue where the waters were too warm for seals to live anyways. 

Except that myths were always seeded with truths, and stories always had a habit of coming to life. 

Tagging: @tfamidoingwithmylife; @yellowbbear ; @skullr0se; @chiyo-juice

Masterlist|Ao3

(psst, if you're a long time reader of mine and noticed that I had posted part one without dramatic use of italicized words... that was because tumblr ate my formatting. It is fixed now along with a few spelling/grammar corrections.)

Prompt:  Something/Someone missing

The joy of a large trove of treasure disappeared as Buggy watched the seal slip beneath the railing and over the edge. Without thinking, he called out your name as he raced to the edge, just to watch you gracefully disappear beneath the choppy waves. He was somewhat aware of the rest of the crew torn from the treasure, but was frozen as he watched the water. Hoping--Praying-- that you'd break the surface. That you would reappear--either human or seal-- and he could pluck you up once more despite the earlier ocean spray on his hands had already made them painful and weak. 

He'd do it again. And again and again. 

If you would just reappear. 

"Not even a goodbye," Mohji whined eventually. "Richie is going to be so heartbroken." 

Who the fuck cared about the lion? He was heartbroken. The necklace he had in his fist--the one he was about to insist you try when he had first turned around-- cut into his hand as he clenched his fist. 

Why? What did your family or kind or whatever have that he couldn't provide you? Were any them as flashy as he was? Making you constantly smile and laugh? Did any of them take you and accept you as easily as his crew had? 

Did any of them love you like he did? 

Or was it his one flaw? His one weakness? That he couldn't swim. That the ocean hated him for fucking accidentally eating that damn fruit. 

That damn Shanks. If he ever saw him again, he would rip his throat out. 

(Don't let it be his nose. It couldn't be his nose, right? You said it was fine, and he didn't think you were lying.) 

"Cap'n?" Mohji asked, breaking Buggy from his thoughts.

The crew was looking towards him, which he usually didn't mind. Except there was pity in their eyes. As if they could tell--as if they knew--how he felt. 

"What are you freaks looking at?!" He shouted with a manic grin. "We just hit the jackpot! It's time to celebrate!" 

The cheers were less than heartfelt, but Buggy let it slide. This once. 

--

Granted, later that night, while the crew was sleeping off draining half the beer they had on board, Buggy made his way to the small room you had claimed. 

You had been with them for just a few short months, and yet you had made the tiny room your own. Hammock full of blankets and pillows stolen from who knew where. A chest brimming with clothes donated by the crew. A vanity with a cracked mirror, yet you.hadn't seemed to mind. You had placed shiny rocks and shells in the canister meant to hold makeup and brushes.  

He took the necklace he had kept in his pocket and put itt in the main drawer, next to the hairbrush (your hair mixed with a few of his since it had been a spare he had found in his own room). He knew he was being foolish, but he held on to the sliver of hope you'd be back. That you would look at his gift with delight and grin happily at him. That the sparkling gems would look as beautiful as he imagined against your skin. 

And, well, if he happened to fall into your hammock, pulling your pillow close to his chest, it was merely because he drank too much. But in the moment, he knew the truth as the sway of the ship rocked him into an uneasy sleep. 

He missed you. 

Prompt: Forgetfulness 

You had forgotten how lonely the sea was. 

As the sun set and everything became dark, you pulled yourself up to an outcropping of rocks before shifting and looking to the stars. Except the sky was clouded, obscuring everything. 

The night would have been silent if not for the sound of water splashing against the rock and your legs. It was impossible to tell where the sea and sky separated--all that you could see was inky blackness. As if you had somehow appeared into an abyss. 

You shivered, but you weren't cold. You still pulled your fur tighter as you continued to shake, chest becoming painfully tight. 

You wanted to be on the pirate ship right now. You wanted to hear the rumble of snores of the crew. The soft boot steps of those taking watch. The soft glow of the lamps and candles. 

Buggy finding you and ending the lonely night often brought alongside insomnia. It had become a little routine, making you wonder what made it so hard for him to sleep at night. 

You never asked. 

Finally the tightness erupted into a scream, hot tears stinging your eyes. 

You had forgotten what true loneliness was like.

You forgot the heartache of missing those dear to you.

Your heart wasn't sure it even knew where 'home' was. The arctic where your pod was. Where your parents, siblings, aunts, uncles, cousins, were.

Or a ship where you were surrounded by people so unlike but had wormed their way into your heart nonetheless. 

(Or maybe where a blue haired pirate grinned at you with bright eyes and a red nose. Like you were the most amazing thing he had ever seen.)

Prompt: Unexpected 

"We're going to the Grand Line!" 

The crew of freaks stared at their captain in confusion. When he had called them together, this was not what they expected his announcement to be. In fact, no one had cared to even place bets considering they all believed it to be the same. 

To go after you. 

"The… Grand Line, Captain?" Mohji was brave enough to ask, clearly as confused as everyone else despite the fact he was technically Buggy's second in command. 

Thankfully, Buggy grinned at the white curly-haired man. Though there was a hint of mania yet again to his blue eyes. "You heard me. We've pittered about the East Blue for long enough, it's time to go after the grand prize--the One Piece!"

"Don't we need a map for the Grand Line?"

"Does the One piece actually exist?

"Well, rumor has it Buggy was on Rogers ship. So if he thinks it does, then it must, right?" 

Buggy wasn't too concerned about the talk amongst the crew, that was to be expected. After all, it was a big change. 

But then…

"What about our selkie that jumped shipped?" Mohji asked, and everyone quickly grew silent, looking towards the captain expectedly. 

Buggy felt his eye twitch as he gritted teeth behind his smile. 

Waking up in your hammock had made the truth hit him like a sledgehammer. You were gone. You chose to leave, without so much as a goodbye.

 Escaping to the one place he couldn't follow. 

"Our little seal made her choice," he said, turning to his first mate with murder in his eyes. "And I don't want to hear another word about it." 

Because his heart was bruised enough as it was. 

He wasn't going to chase after someone who didn't want him. (Just like everyone else in his life he had cared for. He had opened his heart to you, only for you to devour what little had remained before jumping overboard.)

Prompt: Undone

"Well, she's rather special. I mean, can you blame him?"

"Hmph. Captain Buggy has made it a point to build a crew of people that don't fit in. We're his band of freaks. But at least we're human. Or fishperson. The bitch is as useful as a one-legged man in an ass kicking contest. I mean, she had to be taught how to wash dishes." 

"Either she sharpens up, or the Captain will realize how useless she is and send her overboard too."  

The words still echoed in your head despite it being weeks since they were spoken. The conversation you weren't meant to hear but did. The one that made you realize you didn't belong among the land-kind. 

That you weren't meant to be one of Buggy's crew. That the chore girl position you had been given was just to keep you entertained and out from under others feet.

Oh sure, many of the crew acted like they enjoyed you being there-- especially Buggy himself-- but not all of them were such great actors. The scoffs. the sneers. 

Some things were universal no matter what. 

The cry of a seagull roused you from the half-sleep. You groaned when you realized the sun had moved, meaning you were no longer in the shade of the towering cliffs but in the hot sun. 

You grabbed your fur and moved into the new shaded area. Hoping to get a little more sleep before the sunset and you could resume your attempt at finding home.

Goddamn tropics being so hot. It was way too warm to try and swim during the day, so you resorted to trying to sleep while the sun bore down. Yet always alert for any land-kind, so sleep was a relative term.

But at least there were plentiful fish in the waters. 

Yet… your time on the pirate ship had spoiled you. All that different food.

Baked.

Roasted.

Toasted.

Fried. 

And the fruit. The cool and sweet juices from biting into one busting into your mouth. Sometimes too much and escaping the corners of your lips. 

Buggy laughed as you tried hard to catch the juice with your hands. He eventually reached over and wiped some you didn't notice from your chin and made a show of licking it from his glove. "Juicy little thing, aren't you?" 

"I-it was," you agreed, trying to reign in your impulses that you didn't realize what he truly said.

How were you supposed to enjoy going back to eating merely to survive after that? (Were you ever going to get him out of your head?) 

You continued to try and sleep, ignoring the pain any dreams brought once you woke. 

Prompt: Eyes 

For being stuck in a sack, bodiless, and more or less prisoner of Arlong, everything had been going fine. Listening to Luffy's antics was always entertaining. The boy was so clueless and full of optimism that it was almost unbelievable at times. As well as rather annoying, considering how the rubber-cursed teen and his tiny crew had beaten him 

What was wrong with this kid? 

Maybe the Gum-Gum fruit had done something to his brain too. 

Okay, things were massively sucking for Buggy right now, but he held out hope. He had escaped worse situations. Yes his body was too far away for him to literally pull himself together. But after they tracked down the Straw hat, Arlong said he'd let him go. 

Granted, Arlong was the kind of pirate to lie straight to your face, but all Buggy had at this point was hope. 

And then he heard you. He knew wherever his body was it jerked, instinct to whip around to look for you before he remembered his ear was miles away at the Baratie restaurant hidden in Luffy's cap. 

What the fuck were you doing there. 

He wiggled his ear slightly in hopes things weren't so muffled. As angry and hurt as he still was, there was no denying that he was desperate to hear your voice clearly. 

He wanted to see you. Touch you. Talk to you. (Demand to know why you had left him the way you did. Hadn't any of the time you spent with them, with him, meant enough for at least a goodbye?)

"--I'm lost," you admitted slowly, sounding as cautious as when you first boarded his ship. Back when you didn't know who to trust and expected someone to do something. "I'm trying to head north, but--"

He silently groaned, rolling his eyes, the Baratie was south of the Deadman Stacks. No wonder you ended up in the East Blue. You were absolutely clueless when it came to directions, weren't you?

(He could have helped. If you had just asked. If you had just waited another minute.) 

"Where's home?" Luffy asked, full of innocent optimism that set Buggy's teeth on edge. 

You wouldn't. You wouldn't dare accept help from the brat after leaving him. Right? There was nothing that kid had that he didn't. (Except a normal nose-- no. You didn't care about his nose.)

"North?" You answered awkwardly, and Buggy wasn't sure if you were avoiding the question, or if you really didn't know. 

"Like, Shells town? Syrup Village?"

"Um… further… north?"

You… didn't know. At least, none of their names for places. And you didn't trust them enough to divulge that truth. His innocent little lamb lost at sea for how many months now? He didn't think his heart could stand another knife in it. 

"I mean, Cozia is the northernmost isle of the East Blue I know," A new voice peeped in. One of the waitstaff if he recalled right. Sangria? Sojo? Something like that. It didn't matter, not really. 

"That sounds… kinda familiar?" You answered, though your voice was tinged with obvious doubt. You were such a horrible liar. (Which only confused him more, because he had thought you at least liked him. Yet you ran away. Why?)

"Don't worry, my cherie, you rest and eat your fill. We'll find a way to get a beautiful woman such as yourself home." The waitstaff flirted, making Buggy grit his teeth as he tried to keep his snarl silent, well aware that Along's crew was probably listening. 

Hell no. No suave fucking waiter was going to try and steal you from him. (Completely ignoring the fact you obviously weren't his to be stolen.) 

Wait. 

Shit. Fuck. 

Arlong was heading for the Baratie. Where you were. 

And as happy as he was to find you, for the chance to just see you again, there was no mistaking the fear rolling in his gut even if he wasn't attached to his body. 

What if you got caught up in the inevitable fight? You could defend yourself, but against Arlong's crew? One Selkie against three fishman that were stronger than himself? 

What if Arlong decided he wanted you as a trophy? What if he took your fur from you again? Unlike Buggy, Arlong was known to hold people captive for long periods of time, doing as he pleased. (Buggy held on to the fact he wasn't that bad since he only gave the towns and villages a mandatory free show for a few nights and before he'd leave and allow them to rebuild their boring little lives.) 

And all Buggy could do was watch. A bodiless head, unable to do anything but watch. Listen. Maybe beg but he already knew any pleading would fall on deaf ears. 

Prompt: Crowds

You had impulsively followed the smell of food, sick of fish, and ended up giving a few humans--Luffy and Sanji-- heart attacks when you pulled yourself halfway onto the deck asking for food. 

And well, you had gotten what you had asked for that ruined your usual diet even more because it tasted divine. But as you ate, the two had been full of questions and one thing led to another and… 

They wanted to help you. Apparently their navigator might know more about where you were heading. 

Except chaos erupted before you could even meet their navigator. Maybe it was because you were surrounded by too many humans, but you felt exposed. Overstimulated. The constant chatter of the patrons. The clinks of silverware against plates. 

The animalistic part of your brain finally won out, and you ran yet again. There was a storm on the horizon and you didn't want to be caught in the middle of it. 

You didn't care which way you were going, you jumped into the water and dived deep and fast, allowing your body to follow the urge to run and hide. 

~*~

You weren't at Baratie. 

Hours later as Buggy helped the Straw Hat idiots navigate.to Arlong Park, the mantra repeated itself in his head. You weren't there. You hadn't been amongst the crowd of diners that Arlong threatened. You weren't part of Lyffy's little crew. 

Buggy was relieved. Angry. Devastated. Thankful. 

Oh, you had been there. Your voice hadn't been a figment of his deranged imagination. But apparently between Mihawk's attack and Arlong’s arrival, you had slipped off into the night without so much as a word. (Which did help a little. Especially as Sanji mourned the fact two 'lovely ladies' had disappeared on him without so much as a goodbye.)

"Wait, you knew her?" Luffy asked after Buggy not-so-subtly asked if they had seen a curvy gal in a seal-skin coat. 

Buggy grinned, though he felt an eye twitch. "You could say that.  But I mean, what man really knows a woman, am I right?" 

"She's running away from you, isn't she?" Zoro guessed-- making Buggy grit his teeth. 

God, if he had his body right now he would have decked the grass-haired man. Right in the swordsman's chest wounds. (See how he liked a knife in the heart.)

"That would imply I actually gave a shit about what she's up to." Okay. He couldn't lie to himself. He did. Hearing you were still so lost had taken the edge off his anger. He was still mad, but it was tempered with worry now. "She's merely an old acquaintance and I was surprised to hear her voice is all. She doesn't like hanging around crowds." 

"She was a jumpy little rabbit," Sanji agreed with a dreamy hint to his voice. Okay, forget the dramatic samurai-wanna be, Buggy was going to slaughter the chef. "I should have offered to protect her. To keep her safe from whatever frightened her." 

That madeBuggy laugh. "That is a riot. Friend, buddy, pal, let me tell you a little secret. Those sharp teeth aren't for decoration. I've seen her kill half a dozen men in just a few minutes with those chompers of hers alone. She'll bite your hand off if it wanders a bit too much-- and I do mean literally." 

And yet… you were still an innocent little lamb he felt compelled to protect as well.

Or maybe just stand back and watch you protect yourself, clapping and cheering the same way you did during one of his performances. 

But the fact.remained, you had left him. You did not want him or his crew. 

 He was in the midst of his body being kidnapped and sailing into the territory of one of the most vicious pirates of the East Blue with a ragtag bunch of idiots. That should be what took precedence in his mind. 

Not you. (Yet it was.)

[barksenji]

Kidkiller modern/real life (?) AU: College or something, idk.

Holy, this is my first time writing on Tumblr lol. This was originally in Spanish but I decided to translate it because it's cute. Anything that doesn't make sense is there for narrative purposes. Also, this is how college works in my country (Venezuela), I have absolutely no idea how it works in the US much less other countries. Lol. Anyways. Enjoy.

Sitting in the bleachers of the gym, the two guys watched as the ball skidded across the feet of the students playing football. The game, meant to be a simple friendly match, had devolved into what resembled a WWE brawl, complete with the loud thuds of bodies hitting the ground.

"I'm way better at sports than these losers," the redhead boasted, his thick Scottish accent sharp with arrogance.

"I know, Kid," replied the blonde, equally as Scottish, if not more.

"I'd have my team winning every damn game."

"I know, Kid."

"I'm gonna be the best football player in the world."

"...You're studying robotics engineering."

"That's beside the point, Killer."

"I know, Kid."

Both men had classes later in the day and lived quite far from the university, often finding themselves with long stretches of idle time between lectures. Their days sometimes began with a class at 7 AM, followed by hours of nothing until their next class at 4 PM. Rather than wander aimlessly around campus or venture out for errands, they found amusement in watching the medical students attempt to play sports, often failing miserably. Or more specifically, they enjoyed watching Law making a fool of himself.

The funniest part? It was an elective. He chose it himself.

"Hey! Trafalgar! Keep eating dirt like that, maybe it'll improve your grades!” Kid mocked.

“FUCK YOU!” Law shouted back, red-faced and indignant.

Kid threw his head back in laughter, oblivious to the enchanted eyes fixed on him. Killer watched Kid’s antics, a soft smile playing at his lips. He couldn't have asked for a better companion. Having Kid by his side made him feel incredibly fortunate.

“What are you staring at, bozo?” Kid asked, breaking Killer’s reverie.

“Nothin',” Killer replied, his voice betraying a hint of nervousness despite his attempt to sound nonchalant.

“Wish I could see behind that motorcycle helmet to know just how much you're judging me.”

“I'm not judging you! I'm just... contemplating.”

For a moment, silence hung between them.

“Uh-huh.” Kid arched an eyebrow, then laughed again.

Killer blushed beneath his helmet, trying to hide his embarrassment. They were bros, and such feelings were out of place.

“So, what's your next class?”

“Confectionery and ice cream,” Killer answered.

“Confectionery and ice cream?! Is that a real class?”

“Well, I am studying gastronomy.”

“Do you have a super hard exam on how to make a sandwich? Like 'Oh no! I failed my toast exam! I'm toasted!' Haha, get it? Toasted... because of toast."

"You're so hilarious, Kid,” Killer said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “But they actually teach you how to design amazing products using sugar, icing, chocolate, and other ingredients. You know, the kind of things I cook for you that you love? Like that Dundee cake you ate for breakfast, lunch, and dinner?"

"Ok, you should've led with that. Never stop making those, they’re delicious,” Kid said, practically drooling at the memory. “Nothing beats the pasta though."

"I agree, nothing beats the pasta..."

They both fell silent, lost in thoughts of food, debating whether their lunch money should be spent on actual lunch or saved for a taxi. No, they did not have a car. No, they didn't have money for one.

"So... what's your next class?" Killer asked, snapping them both out of their pasta-induced coma.

"Physical fundamentals of mechanics.”

"...Confectionery and ice cream does sound kinda funny next to that,” Killer admitted. “What do you even learn there?”

"Well, we study kinematics, point dynamics, work, power, mechanical energy, that kind of stuff." He was still baffled by the fact that Kid could comprehend all that.

"Yeah, I'm sticking to the ice cream," Killer laughed, but as soon as he noticed, he quickly covered his mouth over his helmet. "Ahem. Sorry about that. Uh—when did you say that class was?"

Kid frowned, noticing Killer's reaction to his own laugh. Killer had something called "PBA," or something along those lines; he didn't know—he wasn't that smart. What he did know was that it caused uncontrollable bursts of laughter in inappropriate situations. It had started after a brain injury from a mishap they got into together. Killer was self-conscious about it; he was already insecure before, but after the accident, he grew absolutely sick of it, even when it was genuine. Kid felt guilty; if he hadn't dragged him into that, he would feel okay. First, he lost his arm to stunt riding, giving Killer the biggest scare of his life, and now this—

"Uh...Kid?"

"Oh yeah, yeah," Kid snapped back to reality. "It’s at 3 PM."

"Kid."

"Yeah?"

"It's 2:56."

"Fuck, you're right!” Kid said, scrambling to gather his things. “Sorry, dude, don't want to leave you here all alone but—y'know."

"Yeah, no worries. I have to get to class soon anyway," Killer reassured him. "Plus, you'll need to study hard if you want to make that giant metal arm you showed me."

Kid paused, surprised that Killer remembered. A blush crept up his cheeks, followed by a wide grin. "Hell yeah, Kil! I will! I'll make you some sick cooking utensils too. Like—knives that spin like chainsaws."

"Why would I need knives that spin like chainsaws?"

"Because they'd look cool. And they'd be faster. Plus, there's the risk of adding a finger to the menu, which is metal."

Killer let out a soft giggle and a sigh. "God, I love you, Kid,” he muttered under his breath.

“HUH?!” Kid turned as he walked away, cocking his head.

“I said you'll miss your class, Kid!" Killer corrected himself, blushing furiously.

Kid raised an eyebrow. "...Love you too, bro, I guess," he responded with a smirk, then dashed off.

Fuck.

[sublimecatgalaxy]

Him and I

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Wife!Reader

Summary: Daryl and his wife get separated at the fall of the prison but both manage to escape with another member of their crowd. After the reader and Glenn find Abraham and their group, almost after accepting they'll never find the rest of their families, they stumble in to Terminus. Will they be reunited or will the current state of the world impede them once more?

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol and drugs, violence, swearing, mentions of loss, feeling of anxiety/dread.

A/n: This fic is directly based on a request (that tumblr ate) by @bringinsexybackk69! I'm so sorry it took so long for me to get back to this, it's honestly just been so hard for me to write things that aren't blurbs and with the lack of TWD content, it's been dry over here. Thank you for your patience, I adore you! This is not entirely canon since my memory is faulty and I can't currently watch TWD so I'm going off of vibes and vague memory.

When we got to the prison, we thought it was going to be the end all, the place we could stay for as long as we chose to live, where we would raise children, form new bonds and relationships, just overall be safe and enjoy life.

But we thought the same thing about the farm and we all know what happened to that dream.

When the prison fell, I assumed that I would never see any of my family again, my closest friends, my husband. I woke up, alone, on the floor of the prison after Daryl shoved me in a cell and told me to stay put. It took nearly an hour for me to fight my way through walkers to get out into the air and that's when I saw the tanks and Hershel.

My heart broke.

When I found Glenn, I had a little bit of hope that we'd find people the longer we looked around the prison but the longer we looked, the less we found and the more dangerous it got. We were trapped and we couldn't wait around for people to show up. So we left.

"Glenn, where would Maggie go? If something happened, where would she go?" I ask Glenn frantically as we walk side by side, gun by gun, down the rural gravel path, my feet kicking frustratedly at stones with every step we take.

"I don't know, Y/n. We never thought we'd ever be away from each other ever again." Glenn is more frustrated than I am, jaw tense and fists clenched at his side. Without us, I'm convinced he wouldn't last, he's so emotional and gets so easily frustrated whereas I am the opposite.

Cool as a cucumber.

Just like Daryl taught me.

Daryl and I met at the farm.

I stumbled, quite literally, upon them with my arm bit and my whole body sore from carrying my own weight at least a mile or two. I'd say that our first impressions were kind and that we fell in love at first sight but it wasn't and we didn't. He, with the assistance of Hershel,  chopped my arm off to prevent the infection from spreading and inevitably saved my life.

We were all shocked to see that it worked.

Daryl would take care of me, bring me things from the forest like little flowers that he claimed to remind him so much of me even though he'd joke that I'm nothing like a flower. He'd bring me food while I was resting in bed, he'd offer to take me on walks- overall, he was an angel and it was hard not to fall in love with him.

He'd tell you that he fell in love with me when I nearly fell in the well three weeks after my amputation.

Don't ask.

We were inseparable from then on in. He was my right hand man (pun so much intended) and he taught me everything I needed to know. I learned how to hunt with one hand, cook, skin animals, fend for myself because he always wanted me to feel and be capable if anything were to ever happen to him.

He's the most selfless, kind hearted, protective man I've ever had the pleasure of meeting.

When the farm was overtaken by walkers and we had to run, it was the first thing to really test mine and Daryl's relationship but also to test my lack of two arms. It was difficult for me to keep up and it was even more frustrating for Daryl to take care of me while saving the asses of everyone else.

"Are you good?" Daryl asks me, spinning around on his bike to look back at me with a worried expression, brows tugged firmly together in fear. He checks me out once, doing a once over to make sure I'm a-okay and when I nod, he loosens up a bit.

"I'm okay. Just a little spooked." I'm trembling like a leaf against him and he finally steps off his bike and moves to wrap his arms around me without another word.

He holds me tightly to his chest, cradling my head as softly as he can as tears flow freely from my eyes, my arm aching in a phantom pain from all the stress of wishing I was more capable, wishing Daryl didn't need to take care of and comfort me all the time.

"I got you, okay? I'm here."

When we found the rest of the group and found the prison, it was like we were drawn to it. We had to clear it out, we had to make it our own, make it safe. We had a baby on the way, Lori was nearly due and with the loss of a few of our people, we needed to regroup and have a place where we could just be.

But it fell, it went to hell, like everywhere else had since the world fell.

When we Glenn and I escaped, it wasn't exactly a match made in Heaven. We weren't the most compatible to work together, always bickering and fighting over the stupidest shit and ruining plans, just like siblings.

But after days and days of walking and arguing, we found Abraham and it was as if everything just got better. It was no longer the two of us and, after all those years of not seeing him, it was strangely nice to be reunited with him on the road.

"Abe?" The ginger's head snaps around at my voice, turning away from his two friends with wide eyes, gaze locking on mine as I grin ridiculously, my feet carrying me towards him without another word.

"Well holy shit, where did you come from?" He chuckles heartily and I feel tears springing behind the lids of my eyes. "I missed you, kid."

Abraham and I were stationed together in the Middle East for too long, learning the ins and outs of each other and becoming true best friends. When we went home, we kept in touch but when the world fell, we became a background thought in each other's minds.

So the fact that we found each other, a state away from where we grew up, it's still remarkable to this day.

Glenn and I felt better once we were with a group of people, especially since we were genuinely going to kill each other had we been stuck, just the two of us, for any longer. It was nice to meet Rosita and get to know her interesting relationship with my old friend, their oddly sexual relationship keeping the rest of us up in the middle of the night.

It made me miss Daryl, meeting all these new people- I had no one to judge people with. Glenn was no fun and always played devil's advocate and Abraham was who I wanted to judge. Daryl would've gladly sat with me and made me laugh while pointing out Rosita and Abraham's obnoxious issues with PDA or making fun of Eugene's mannerisms and nerves around Rosita.

It was alienating, how much I missed him.

My other half.

"Glenn, I don't know why you think Maggie would go to some random, probably overran 'survivalist' camp. But I think we have a better bet just wandering around looking for them." Abraham looks at me with a funny look, reaching out to shove at my shoulder as an attempt to get me to lay off Glenn but I just shake my head. I lean over Glenn's shoulder, looking at the ominous note that 'Maggie' left him and I can see the hope written on Glenn's face.

"I just have a feeling, you have to go with me on this." Glenn spins around on his heels, holding the note up in his hands with a stern, hopeful smile. "She left me a damn note, Y/n." I look back at Abraham, Rosita and Eugene and they all give me a simple shrug which forces a complaint sigh out of me.

"What you say goes."

Terminus obviously was not what we thought it was, tossed into train cars like animals and expected to turn over our weapons. Abraham called bullshit first, not daring to turn in his weapon before asking a few more questions but it was those few more questions that got us thrown into our makeshift jail in the first place.

I had accepted at that point that I would never see him ever again, that Daryl and I would never be reunited and never spend the rest of our lives together like we so desperately wanted to. 

But when he stumbled into the train car two days later to my surprise, eyes falling on me and arms immediately tossing around me, it was shocking. I didn’t even think that he was real, the way his arms felt around me, after days of not having him near me- it was an out of body experience. 

“Are you really here?” I ask, tucking my face in the crook of his neck, gripping onto the back of his shirt as if he’ll vanish from my grasp if I let him go even the slightest bit. He clings to me the same, hoisting me up into the air as I spot Abraham watching us with a proud smile on his lips that makes my stomach flutter with happy butterflies.

“I’m really here.” He whispers, rubbing my back soothingly as he sets me back down onto the floor, looking down at me with kind, protective eyes. “Fuck, I missed you.” His hands reach up, cupping my cheeks in his hands, ignoring the looks that everyone else in the car is giving us. “Where have you been?” He asks, finally taking a look around at the people around us with a relieved breath.

“With Glenn.” I huff, seeing Glenn, who has his arm around a relieved Maggie, sends me the finger from across the trai car.

“I’m so sorry.” Daryl mutters with a laugh, wrapping his arms around me again, tugging me to his chest with the plan of never letting me go.

“Never leave me alone again.” 

"What're you thinkin' about?" Daryl’s voice snaps me out of my memories, my head turning to look at him as he sets a hand on my shoulder, a soft smile on his lips. "I can see the smoke comin' out of your ears." He teases with a wink, sitting down beside me on the log that I’ve plopped on and I lean into him, letting him wrap an arm around my shoulders. 

"Thinking about when the prison fell. When we were apart."

"Why the hell're you thinking about that?" He asks, brows furrowing and a look of worry passes across his expression as he tugs me back into him, clinging to me once more just like the day that he found me. "Worst days of my life."

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o- Taglist: @bubblebuttwade @rafelover2405 @leslienjazzy @sorceresss @grxnde-dwt @alex–awesome–22 @bunnietoof @niyamar1e @serialghost @plantlungs @geniusohn @akaliltimmytim @lilaalouuxx @xshariex @elliotsbeigeguitar @elle4404 @lelieja @srhxpci @joselyn001 @taysirene @spinkspanther @thedivineuphoria @peter-maximoffs @tsukishimawhore @poohkie90 @szlaco @distantsighs @nstyles4299 @wolflover384 @givemefoodandlovesstuff @vane28282 @yeswhatever33 @amirrahfranson @vvaalleennttiinna @f-mu @yaspillz @jeyramarie @skylievin@abbybarnes17 @jointherebellion215 @visiondaddy @steezysimfinds @its-ya-gay-boi-luigi @crunchytoenailsyum@glizzymcguirex @beth123lg @melovesmut @rafecameronswhore @ariianelle @write-from-the heart @vampviolets@haylee-e @honee-chai-tea @lokiandbuckywife

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[violetduchess]

A flower For Death

¤ Death x reader

Note: I'm sorry to the lovely a anon who requested this. Tumblr ate your ask and my writing.😞

The sun was setting behind the mountains, casting a warm, golden glow over the peaceful meadow where Lobo and you sat. The soft grass tickled your legs as you both looked out at the endless expanse of greenery before them. Lobo, as always, was dressed in his usual black robes, his face hidden behind his hood. You, on the other hand, wore a simple white dress, your hair flowing in the gentle breeze.

For a moment, there was silence between you as you both took in the serene atmosphere. Then, you spoke up.

"I have something for you," you said, pulling a handful of colorful wildflowers from beside you. With deft fingers, you began to weave the stems together, creating a delicate flower crown.

Lobo watched you work, his clawed fingers resting on his knees. He had never seen someone make something like this for him before. Lobo was used to being feared and avoided, not cherished ( not that he minded it much.)

You finished your creation, and with a gentle smile, you reached up and placed the flower crown on Lobo's head.

"There," you said, admiring your handiwork. "You look beautiful."

Lobo was stunned. He had never been called beautiful before. He tentatively reached up and touched the flowers, feeling the soft petals between his fingers.

You noticed Lobo's hesitation and took his hand, guiding it to the crown. "You deserve something beautiful," you said softly. "Just because you're Death doesn't mean you can't enjoy the simple things in life."

Lobo looked at you, his hood falling back slightly to reveal his wolfish face. "Thank you," he said, his voice barely a whisper.

The two of you sat in silence once again, Lobo still wearing the flower crown. As the night grew darker, the stars began to twinkle above you. You pointed up at the sky, identifying constellations and telling stories of ancient myths.

Lobo listened intently, his usual stoic expression softening. He had never spent time with a human like this before. It was almost... nice.

As the night drew on, you grew tired. Lobo stood up and offered his furred hand to help you up. You accepted, and as you walked back to your home, Lobo kept the flower crown on, feeling a sense of peace he had never experienced before.

The next day, you returned to the meadow, bringing with you a picnic basket filled with sandwiches and lemonade. Lobo was waiting for you, sitting cross-legged in the grass with his flower crown still on his head.

You spent the day talking and laughing, sharing stories and getting to know each other better. Lobo found himself enjoying your company more than he ever thought possible.

As the sun began to set once again, you pulled out a small camera and asked if you could take a picture of him wearing the flower crown. Lobo was hesitant, but eventually agreed.

You snapped a few pictures, the flash illuminating the darkening sky. Turning around the camera, you showed Lobo the pictures on the small screen, and he was surprised to see that he looked... happy. It was a feeling he had never experienced before, and he wasn't sure if he liked it or not.

Eventually, you had to leave, but before you did, you leaned in and gave Lobo a soft kiss on the cheek. Lobo was taken aback, but as you walked away, he found himself reaching up and touching the spot where your lips had met his cheek.

As Lobo sat alone in the meadow, his flower crown still on his head, he realized that he didn't want to be alone anymore. He wanted to spend more time with you, to feel the happiness and peace that came with your presence.

"See you soon, Y/N."

End~

All rights reserved @violetduchess. All works of fanfiction belong to me, please do not copy, translate or repost any works without my express permission. Thank you.~☆

[ksiondzkanexkiii]

MOŻE NIE JESTEŚ ZŁĄ OSOBĄ | CENA JANA

Next Chapter (23)

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Chapter Twenty-Second

17 May 2021

Two days had passed since the fire. Two days since Ava and Eric had died and she had done nothing, while she lay in the hospital her only friend was silence optionally an annoying monitor beeping over her ear signalling how her heart was working, but she got used to that later too.

The doctors kept her in hospital overnight just to be safe, she was fine so they discharged her and the captain picked her up from hospital.

The silence in the car was awkward, nobody said anything.

Because they didn't know what to say

The captain didn't know how Jinx would react to her friends death, he wanted to see her reaction first and then comfort her. Otherwise it could end badly

Jinx herself didn't know how to feel, what she should think. What she should do was all making her feel lost and alone, as if she hadn't felt this way before, but now it had intensified. Scenes kept replaying in her head of her lips dancing with Eric's lips, it was so beautiful. And then she panicked and ran away, and when he found her, she herself didn't know how to feel or what to say to him

But he understood that

He gave her time

But that time was over

And she didn't have time to find out if he felt the same as she did, or if it was just a kiss to start an adventure for one night.

She ate poorly, her head so busy with thoughts that she didn't have time to eat or drink, not even enough time in the day to wash up. When they returned from the hospital the weather was not good for them, it rained terribly, making them both wet very quickly from that day onwards, as if the souls of Eric and Ava had not been given peace and were giving signs by the weather.

With that, Jinx found herself sitting on the windowsill and looking out of the window watching the race of droplets that trickled down the window and new raindrops arrived. The drops hit the ground and the window creating a peaceful melody

Jinx's thoughts wandered everywhere, as they had for the past few days. She could not find the peace

Which she wanted so much

At this moment

She may have lived on the streets for most of her life trauma was her friend, but she never had to face the death of friends. Of course she had to survive being left behind by Jack, but this was different

Deep down she felt empty as if a god had laughed at her and stolen a part of her.

Blue eyes gazed at the race of drops that ran down the window. She let the air out through her mouth, she didn't know why the fire had started or how long she had been unconscious, hell she didn't even know why Eric and Ava hadn't helped.

She could have helped them, but she was too weak, she lost consciousness too quickly.

And she was the last to lose consciousness

God hates her

The problem is that she doesn't believe in god.

Fuck

- Jinx? - The captain's voice rang out from behind the door, gently knocking on the wood of the door making his presence known. She didn't answer and he took her silence as an answer that she could come in, she heard the door open and the captain's head emerge from behind the door looking at her with a slight frown written across his brow. Looking down at the teenager, who was pressing her knees to her chest, she didn't even look at him

As if he didn't exist.

She tended to sit in her realm of thought, but this was different. She usually reacted to a knock and to him entering the room and now she didn't even look at him

- Kid? - he called out again, he didn't speak loudly rather he said his words quietly not wanting to startle her as long as she was listening - Can I come in? - he asked still sticking his head out of the door

- You already did - She replied without emotion, she did not even shed a tear when she was in the hospital or in the flat. Even in "her" room she did not shed a tear, she did not want to show weakness. Not for any reason. Even if, in her soul, she screamed and cried like a little child, her blue eyes broke away from the view outside the window to look into the captain's eyes - Don't come in. She wants to be alone - she answered calmly

This was strange for the captain, he understood that everyone goes through grief or trauma differently. But Jinx's behaviour puzzled him, he asked himself if the teenager shed a single tear. Does she live in the belief that showing weakness equals death - Not this time Jinx - he confessed quietly opening the door wider. In his hand he had a canvas, paints and brushes he wanted to do the same exercise that Kyle had once recommended to him

He was curious to see what she would paint now, but she wouldn't let him in. They returned to the flat and she immediately locked herself in her room - I don't feel like Price - she muttered quietly, her knees pressed tighter into her chest as she looked at him. She really didn't feel like doing anything.

- It wasn't a question Jinx - he replied dispassionately, entering the room. It was his flat he could do whatever he wanted even if the teenage girl didn't want it - Do the walker - he left the same set on her desk with which she had painted before only the canvas was new, when he looked at her he could see she didn't want to express her emotions but he was no fool he knew how the death of the Rodriguez siblings had affected her. She had closed herself off more, he feared if she would return to her old behaviour

Maybe she hadn't caused any trouble before, but now it could be different, and he didn't know what to expect - Just paint what you think about most often - he confessed, allowing himself to sit on her bed, it hadn't escaped him that on the bed was her rubbed journal with many drawings on two pages

Willingly without wanting to, he looked at what she had drawn. One of the largest drawings which took up almost a whole page was of an abandoned house, he didn't quite know where it was and what hidden meaning it had, but apparently it was important to her, the second drawing on the same page was

Eric

She drew Eric and the figure next to him, a practically unfamiliar figure was sitting on his lap and looked like he was kissing. This was something he hadn't expected, was Jinx jealous of Eric? Did she feel something for him?

- 'She doesn't want to,' she replied without much emotion again looking at the rain outside the window, she wasn't interested in anything else, her thoughts were one of the most interesting things in the world she could do.

Now

Immediately

Continuously

Until fucking death

- You don't have to do this now - He said and his tone dripped with concern, which surprised her. She had never expected someone to speak to her with such concern woven into their words and such a concerned look, it was so

Unreal

She turned her head with such speed that it was a wonder she didn't snap her neck. Come on her neck hurt. She looked at him as if he had said the stupidest thing in the world to her however she nodded. Slowly, uncertainly, not trusting his words. He didn't take his eyes off her, judging her every move and every muscle movement, but he had to watch closely to see how her shoulders stiffened.

He nodded slowly, closed her diary so she wouldn't think he was going to look in her notebook, which she was treating like a diary, although a little poorly guarded if she let him see what was inside. It is true that he could only see the open pages and did not look deeper, but he respected other people's privacy even if curiosity ate him alive

- do you want to tell me something? - he asked with the same concern that Jinx could already vomit.

- Yes - she replied - Get the fuck out of the room I want to be alone, I don't need your help and care - she replied dryly, even aggressively. As aggressively as she could muster, looking at him with murder painted in her eyes

- 'First of all, be more polite,' he said seriously, as his expression changed from concerned to cold and serious. He almost felt offended by her growl Jinx only rolled her eyes

- Please leave the room - she almost mocked him but said more politely as he asked. Come on he didn't like her answer he didn't press further, just like her he didn't have the strength to continue arguing about such petty things

- As you wish," he muttered as he got up from the bed, "But do as I asked you," he added as he headed towards the door, he glanced over his shoulder at her as his hand found its way to the door handle. He knew he had to help her through this mess, but as long as she wouldn't let him there wasn't much he could do

It is she who must first accept his help

Then she can act as she wishes

 Her gaze rested on the window again however the raindrops were no longer as interesting, her thoughts raging like the waves of the sea in a storm. It was a lot for her... even too much as she shifted her gaze to the things the captain had left on the desk, she bit her lower lip slightly as her gaze shifted to the journal on the bed. Even though it was locked she remembered how she had drawn Eric's hiding place

It all happened quickly

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

Dressed in a black sweatshirt with the hood pulled over her head she jumped out of the window beforehand wrenching the bars off the window like she always did when she made an illegal trip. She landed smoothly and quietly on the fire escape stairs and looked around her. There was no one in the alley

A clear field for a free escape

Her legs instinctively began to run down the stairs towards the self-inflicted mission. Perhaps unnecessarily, but she felt it was the right thing to do even if it wasn't moral

Was anything

Did she know anything about morality?

Well... she was the last person who should be commenting on it

The backpack on her backpack was not pleasantly heavy, only the backpack, which was almost empty, was not weighing on her shoulders, but the weight of her idea was weighing on her shoulders. It was as if her guardian angel wanted to advise against what she had planned

But she had to do it

Approaching Eric's hideout, she stopped at the cars and drained the petrol from them. She didn't have the cash to buy a canister, if she bought one at a petrol station it would arouse suspicion. She had to manage in other ways

As always

It wasn't difficult she obtained the tube from the captain's flat and poured the petrol into water bottles, she knew it would come in handy one day to store the rubbish in her room. Perhaps also a bit out of laziness she didn't want to take the rubbish out of her room

But who would judge her?

The captain.

He always frowned when she didn't clean her room however her subconscious told her that every bottle, every piece of paper could one day be useful for something

And that day came

Turning off the fifth bottle full of flammable liquid, she hid it in her backpack. It was late and there was not a living soul on the streets, so she was calm and did not have to worry about being seen. Only occasionally someone would walk past her, but too drunk to notice what the teenager was doing

Throwing her backpack over her shoulders, she ran towards the abandoned house that Eric had appropriated by making it a hideout. The oxygen in her lungs was escaping from the demanding run, she may have been athletic and a frequent runner but the smoke that had lodged in her lungs during the fire still occasionally scratched her lungs

However, the doctors said this would be the case for the next few days or weeks, her lungs were hounded by the noxious gas.

The moon appeared in the sky making it dark everywhere only the streetlights defended against the darkness until she turned towards the tall grass disappearing behind it. It was a shortcut towards the hideout.

Eric had shown her this when he always escorted her to the captain's flat.

Running through the tall grass she actually ran blindly, not thinking much. She was simply focused on the mission she had set herself, she should have thought about whether it was the right thing to do, but she was too stubborn and determined to do it

However, when she saw the dilapidated house she doubted. Stopping in front of the stairs leading to the warrants, she swallowed hard the lump in her throat didn't allow her to breathe freely and swallow her saliva, she didn't want to think about speaking anymore. Gathering every ounce of courage she had she climbed each step to approach the door.

She pushed open the heavy wooden door which made a familiar creaking sound. Oh how she disliked the sound then now she hated it even more, she remembered Eric opening the door for her to enter first

A real fucking gentleman awoke in him

Every time

Every fucking time.

She hated it at the same time she felt even more warmly for this boy who was now gone. And he would never come back. And she would never tell him how she felt about him, whether she accepted his crush or not

Going deeper into the house she felt her muscles even begging her to back off and escape to a warm bed, her mind working at a hundred miles an hour also begging her to back off her self-appointed mission and think it all through in every way possible

But every part of her stubbornness told her she was doing the right thing. In the end, Eric would have wanted her to when she climbed the stairs and found herself in the room where Jinx and Eric were.

Jinx looked away as the memories surged into her brain, she let out a shuddering breath - Get a grip Jinx - she chastised herself, looking again into the centre of the room

She saw the drawings on the walls that Eric had painted, she saw that broken bed. And that fucking guitar, which lay just as they had left it last time

Leaning against the bed

The blanket, still spread out, waited for the two to come back and continue their kissing sessions and maybe even for them to do that first time.

Her first time

That first time when she would say yes.

Her legs moved her towards the broken bed to pick up her guitar. She sat comfortably on the bed and put the guitar on her leg, looking at the strings she didn't know how to play, even though Eric had taught her the basic notes and even one short piece, when she jerked mindlessly at the strings and the sound of the guitar drowned out the stillness of the deserted house she almost held her air

Which was already ragged and constantly held back

- 'Fuck,' muttered Jinx quietly, her gaze dropping to the floor and then looking around the walls. If Eric was here

- I'm so sorry," she whispered into the air knowing no one could hear her, "I'm so terribly sorry," her voice trembled threatening to make them burst out crying. She couldn't afford it

First rule

Do not show weakness

Clenching her jaw tightly almost crushing her teeth in the process, she got up from the bed, which creaked when it lost the girl's weight. She put her guitar on her back and threw her backpack on the floor hastily pulling out bottles of petrol. She didn't know if she'd have enough for five bottles, but the house was made of wood so even if she didn't have enough petrol the house would still burn through the flammable wood that would fuel the fire

Opening the first bottle the smell of petrol hit her nostrils almost immediately, holding her air slightly to avoid inhaling the smell of petrol which she liked, but not in this situation. She began pouring the petrol around her being careful not to douse herself or her backpack.

Her movements were quick but precise, using every drop of petrol she had and throwing the empty bottles behind her without thinking much. When she was sure that the whole house, or the vast majority of the house, was covered in flammable liquid, she put the rucksack back on, adjusting the guitar so that it did not interfere too much and did not dig into her back.

She still had some petrol left in the fifth bottle. She started pouring the liquid towards the exit. Perfectly enough

As she stood in front of that old white house again, memories almost flooded her brain as she laughed with Eric. She may not have spent much time in this place but she certainly knew she wanted to, pulling out the cigar she had stolen from the captain earlier she lit it, the buzz of the lighter disturbed the stillness of the night and the soft light from the end of the cigar testified that it had ignited the

The familiar smoke of nicotine almost immediately stank around her sticking to her clothes like a tick drawn to blood. Smoking quietly in front of the hiding places she felt nothing, as if Eric himself was whispering in her ear that she was doing the right thing.

Because maybe she was doing it, but she didn't know it

Maybe it wasn't the moral thing to do, but in her eyes it was the right thing to do. He had hidden this hideout from everyone for so many years, why should this place continue to exist now that he was no longer in this world? Since he had died then his hiding place would die, which hid every secret of his that she hadn't managed to find out and didn't want to when he was dead and hadn't told her

The ash fell on the damp grass and the smoke ignited her lungs almost reminded her of that feeling when she was in the Rodriguez house during the fires and suddenly lost consciousness. If she hadn't listened to Ava and gone to check it out maybe they would both be alive.

It was her fault. She should have listened to her gut feeling and checked the house, she didn't even know how the fire started, but if she had checked the house when she smelled the smoke. Surely the siblings would have been alive then.

Smoking a cigar did not bring her the solace she was looking for on the contrary it brought her new thoughts that she wanted to get rid of. She growled quietly under her breath - No point - she muttered under her breath as she let the smoke out through her nose after taking one last drag. She did not extinguish the cigar merely threw it in the wet trail she had made as she left the abandoned house

The flames would almost immediately burst out to occupy any part of the hideout that was covered in petrol. She watched everything burn, a smile gently adorning her face as she tucked her hands into her pockets and her eyes twinkled as she watched the flames dance inside the house, taking a few steps back to be able to see the rock of the fire and the smoke rising from the roof of the abandoned house

She almost felt proud that she had done it, she let out a calm breath closing her eyes - Have fun Eric - she muttered quietly - Someday I'll join you up there - she added after a while - I promise - she whispered promises looking at the night sky, the black smoke covered the stars, she would have to wait until morning to see the big black cloud that was hovering over the abandoned house

- Rest in peace - she bit her lip looking at those stars that were not covered by the smoke - Eric and Ava - she whispered their names almost feeling their hands stroking her shoulders almost as if they wanted to tell her that she had done the right thing

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

She doesn't know how much time has passed since the hideout started to burn, but the roof had managed to half collapse and the boards that weren't covered in petrol had already taken on a fire that was burning them mercilessly. The moon was slowly disappearing behind the horizon and the dark smoke over the abandoned house was already visible against the background of the oranges that were rising with the incoming sun and the distant dark blue that was hiding with the moon.

People were only now waking up in their homes to start a new day, but not Jinx, she had stayed up all night just watching the burning building her hands which were frozen trying to find warmth in the pockets of her sweatshirt. It didn't help much

Those who had already woken up and noticed the dark cloud in the sky almost immediately called the fire brigade when their minds realised where the fire was. The fire brigade receiving the call dispatched units and the sirens could be heard even from the other end of the city, Jinx looking towards the city settled into the tall grass disappearing so the firemen wouldn't notice her.

She was no fool she knew that the firemen would know that someone had set fire to the building however she hoped they would think it was an unfortunate accident. Someone didn't put out their cigarette and an old building built of wood caught fire, sometimes she thought people were stupid so she hoped very much that this would be the case

Which was very possible

Because who would bother with an abandoned building?

She sprinted towards the fire stairs by Price's flat, the guitar on her back and her backpack slowing her down a bit, but she could still run fast. When she turned into an alley she knew like the back of her hand, she lowered the fire ladder as quietly as she could while still running as fast as she could. She had to get away from the fire brigade and she had to get there before the captain woke up, and she had five minutes to do it.

She climbed the stairs almost jumping up every other step. And when she was at window level she swooped in like a bird that couldn't see the window and dumbfounded from it, panting heavily she threw her guitar off her back and hid it under the bed and dropped her backpack somewhere on the ground of her room. Too unconcerned about where it landed

Her movements were swift as she grabbed a screwdriver and began to screw down the bars, pretending that nothing had happened during the night. When she heard footsteps in the captain's bedroom and the last screws were screwed in she threw herself on the bed covering herself with the duvet and pretending to sleep. She heard the captain shuffling around the house and when she realised she was going to pretend to sleep in her sweatshirt

She was dumbfounded

She quickly pulled off her sweatshirt and threw it into the corner of the room, lay down again and her heart was beating a hundred miles an hour almost coming up her throat causing her to feel a wave of nausea. However, the captain suspected nothing and did not enter her room. Unintentionally Jinx smiled triumphantly even from the window of her room she could see the great black cloud of smoke that covered the orange and yellow of the morning sky.

Her mission had gone successfully

She thought it would be difficult however everything went according to plan. At least for the time being, as she did not know if the fire brigade would be inquisitive and she wondered how the abandoned building started to burn, however, when she thought about it more deeply she knew that she had played it right, because she had left a cigar there, which could indicate that someone had not smoked a cigarette and the wooden house had caught fire. There were a lot of homeless people there all the more homeless cigarette smokers so the fire brigade should not be inquisitive

Otherwise known as

An unfortunate accident

[zhongrin]

୨꒰ྀི yume creators' market event masterlist ! ꒱୧

main event post

duration: 11 - 17 november 2024

thank you so much for your participation and all the love! (ㅅ´ ˘ `)ᰔᩚ

❀ zhongli's journal entries

⟡₊⋆ 2024年11月11日 · 🌤️ · 07:32 ⟡₊⋆ 2024年11月11日 · 🌤️ · 13:07

⟡₊⋆ 2024年11月12日 · 🌧️ · 22:34 ⟡₊⋆ 2024年11月12日 · 🌤️ · 10:16 ⟡₊⋆ 2024年11月12日 · ☀️ · 15:40 ⟡₊⋆ 2024年11月12日 · ⛈️ · 18:12

⟡₊⋆ 2024年11月13日 · ☀️ · 09:33 ⟡₊⋆ 2024年11月13日 · ☁️ · 15:34 ⟡₊⋆ 2024年11月13日 · ☁️ · 16:02 ⟡₊⋆ 2024年11月13日 · 🌧️ · 17:45 ⟡₊⋆ 2024年11月13日 · 🌧️ · 20:12

⟡₊⋆ 2024年11月14日 · ☁️ · 05:03 ⟡₊⋆ 2024年11月14日 · ☀️ · 19:58 ⟡₊⋆ 2024年11月14日 · ☀️ · 21:43

⟡₊⋆ 2024年11月15日 · ☀️ · 13:01 ⟡₊⋆ 2024年11月15日 · ☀️ · 15:10 ⟡₊⋆ 2024年11月15日 · 🌤️ · 20:49 ⟡₊⋆ 2024年11月15日 · ☁️ · 21:05

⟡₊⋆ 2024年11月16日 · ⛈️ · 09:12 ⟡₊⋆ 2024年11月16日 · ⛈️ · 10:00 ⟡₊⋆ 2024年11月16日 · 🌧️ · 12:05 ⟡₊⋆ 2024年11月16日 · 🌧️ · 12:34 ⟡₊⋆ 2024年11月16日 · 🌧️ · 12:50 ⟡₊⋆ 2024年11月16日 · 🌧️ · 13:02 ⟡₊⋆ 2024年11月16日 · 🌤️ · 22:45

⟡₊⋆ 2024年11月17日 · 🌤️ · 09:33 ⟡₊⋆ 2024年11月17日 · ☀️ · 14:22 ⟡₊⋆ 2024年11月17日 · ☀️ · 20:20

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❀ lore stuff you might have missed

i swear i didn't plan for this to happen, yall just sent in yummy yummy asks that made my brain juices go "OHHHH WHAT IF" hashdahshd i am INNOCENT /silly

˚˖𓍢ִ໋. dresvi's first ask: "the golden-colored witness of promised lifetimes wrapped around his finger glinting under the light" → refers to the wedding band we wore throughout several lifetimes. hint to zhongrin reincarnation trope ;3

˚˖𓍢ִ໋. also on dresvi's first ask, zhongli says: "It's hard to pinpoint exactly when we first 'met'... The first time we talked was when she wasー" → notice how he never really gets to say when our first meeting was since i jumped in before he could elaborate ;))

˚˖𓍢ִ໋. "ansy"'s letter: "her husband's commitment in writing journal entries every day is truly commendable; the seemingly countless cardboard boxes full of old journals in the storage room are a testament to that dedication" ー how many journals do you think a normal human being can own in their lifetime?

˚˖𓍢ִ໋. other hints can also be found in zhongli's journal entries if you kinda squint, for example "Ah, the passage of time, always so elusive.".... some of this wordings are very sus lol

˚˖𓍢ִ໋. there were also lots of 'interlinked' information throughout the posts, like zhongli's typo of "goggle maps" being fixed to "google map" on the subsequent post, or how he noted down 'pink moon rose' on his shopping list and then described giving it to meirin in the evening. some asks have had an effect on the journal entries, too! like how antares was mentioned after visiting in the morning, or when kazuha dropped in and mentioned again in the journal. special thanks to sachie for taking inspiration from the journal entry and sending in that letter; i thought that was super cool hehe ᰔᩚ

˚˖𓍢ִ໋. the 'weather signs' don't actually track the weather.... he's actually tracking my mood lmao

˚˖𓍢ִ໋. i'd like to think his very last journal post didn't just mean that he's not just 'safekeeping' the photo, but also the subject (¬////¬)ᰔᩚ

˚˖𓍢ִ໋. overall, i hope you all enjoyed his silly shenanigans with the youthful slang 'nickname' failure, botched voice memo, fumbling over things when i got mad at him for the silliest thing and him playing along with it in the end, etc.

˚˖𓍢ִ໋. also, tumblr actually ATE one of the journal entries on the last day, grrr......