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hornedsimp · 4 years ago

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Ayeee its ya boi, schlatt addict-

So last year I got my foot caught in a bear trap, and I was just thinking about if the reader got hurt during a fight with another mc youtuber (in game ofc) and schlatt finds them really badly hurt, and he has to take care of them. Bc they can't walk and ya know ✨b l o o d✨

So yeah thats my idea, peace ✌

Oh dear god, I hope that everything it’s alright with your leg now!

Thanks for taking the time to request this, it’s so soft and I love it so much!

I hope you like it!

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Jschlatt x Reader (Fluff)

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Warnings: Cursing, mention of alcohool, light level of violence at the beggining.

That's what I got, but if you see anything that you want me to put in the warnings please let me know

▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎

You had gotten into a pretty bad fight with Willbur after Schlatt had announced the festival, you were walking around the city, to make sure everything was fine when you had spotted him at the top of a tree, his eyes once so caring filled with rage.

You knew that wasn't the Willbur you met long ago, and since you were on Schlatt's side now, you went to confront him, it didn't end up well for you.

No one was expecting to fight on the day of the announcement, for that reason you weren't with your netherite armor, only wearing the black suit you liked so much to seem more serious.

It was a pretty suit, yes, but it didn't work well against arrows and a diamond sword, granted, you couldn't even imagine how Willbur got his hands on a diamond sword when he was wearing the dirtiest outfit you've seen in ages.

Nonetheless, the fight dragged through the forest, as both of you were screaming at each other, Willbur trying to make you see how he was the victim of the system, trying to get back to the country he loved so much, while you were trying to explain why the rules were made to keep him away.

When he stopped trying to convince you that he wasn't doing anything bad, and started to attack you with more rage than before, you knew you were right since the beginning, Willbur had gone mad in his exile.

He shouted curses at you, throwing punches in your direction until he could trip you and hold you down on the ground, he got his sword with hands trembling, a dangerous smile on his face as he put the sword at the top of your chest, you tried to move, tears forming in your eyes as you screamed trying to get him to lose his balance so you could escape.

It was to no avail, you could feel the sword slowly making contact with your skin, the pain running through your skin slowly, almost taunting you to do something to stop it.

You bit hard on the inside of your cheeks, tasting your own blood trying to not focus on the pain, it would only get worst and worst, you closed your eyes waiting for the blackness to swallow you whole right after Wilbur pierced through your chest, but the void never came to take you out.

What came instead was another sudden wave of pain, this time concentrating on your leg, as you opened your eyes, you could see the blood running through your chest, but what got your attention, was the sword impelled at your leg, there was blood everywhere, your clothes ripped in many places where Willbur had attacked you.

And thinking about the devil, he was gone, no words or apologies, no shadow lurking behind the trees to see if you would survive, simply gone.

As the adrenaline in your body started to go down, and the pain got bigger, your eyes started to close, they felt too heavy, but you knew deep down you couldn't pass out from the pain in the middle of the forest, so you did the only thing you could think of.

You called Schlatt for help, since your arms weren't too damaged to move, you grasp on the small string of consciousness to open the message board everyone could use as a sort of direct link to each other.

Typing out your coordinates you pressed sent, letting your hands fall limp close to your body, and finally letting yourself crave the dark embrace that awaited for you, telling yourself that it would be fine once schlatt found you, your vision turned dark, and you blacked out.

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

When you woke up again, you were in a large room, in a massive bed, with lots of blankets organized messily around you, there was an enormous window from where you could see Manberg in all of its glory, as you were trying to get a better view by moving, the door of the room opened, revealing schlatt, with a tired expression carrying a small plate with what seemed to be mushroom soup.

"What the fuck you think you're doing woman?" He asked with his loud voice practically running to your side.

"Trying to get up?" You asked still trying to move your body to at least sit on the bed more comfortably.

"Yeah that's the fucking problem dumb bitch, you can't move or else the stitches can get worst." Schlatt argued putting the plate on the bed table at your side.

He pulled the blankets off of you so you could see the white bandages covering your leg, quickly you pulled your shirt a little so you could peek at your chest, there was also white bandages firmly wrapped in your torso, you looked at schlatt, feeling your face get hot as you pieced together the pieces of what probably had happened after you blacked out alone in the forest.

Before you could say anything about the whole situation though, Schlatt let out a sigh, rolling his eyes dramatically.

"Don't ever think about that, I asked Nikki to help with the bandages, and she is the one that dresses you up on some spare clothes she had with her."

You could feel yourself relax at that, nodding your head slightly Schlatt approached you, moving his hands so he could support your torso and pull you up, making you sit on the bed, after making sure you were comfortable enough the hybrid handed you the small plate with the soup.

"Nikki thinks you're going to be able to walk in two weeks, but if you have any problem with the wound, it can take three weeks or more, you can stay here while you're healing." Schlatt says before leaving the room.

You blink a few after he leaves, your face still a little hot as you think about how careful he held you to help you move your body, deciding to not give yourself a headache thinking about it, you start to eat the soup, only to be interrupted again by Schallat entering the room.

He was carrying a shit ton of magazines and random books, the hybrid crossed the room to come to the other side of the bed and let all of the magazines down at your side, he sat right beside you and moved the magazines around so you could see all of the titles.

" I also thought... you could get bored, so I got some shit for you to read if you want to." Schlatt said with a proud smile.

You could only smile in return and offer a quiet "thanks" as you went back to eat the soup, after you finished Schlatt quickly took the place and went out to the kitchen as you moved around a little, picking a random magazine you moved the others away so there could be more space for the president in the bed.

You knew he wouldn't leave your side, not until you were completely okay again, he was just looking out for you in his way, standing close and making sure you wouldn't have any problem in your recovery.

Just as you expected, he came back soon after leaving the plate at the sink, he sat once again beside you, putting his head at your shoulder you hummed quietly, moving your hand so you could caress the side of his face.

You had learned long ago that the ram hybrid was pretty touch starved, although he kept the charade of a tough guy that doesn't need anything else other than his whiskey, you've been on his side for what seemed like forever now.

Schlatt took your hand, placing a soft kiss on your wrist before moving his head, headbutting you lightly to gain your attention, you moved your gaze from the current magazine on your lap to his face.

"Don't ever do this again to me alright?" He said in a more serious tone, his fingers tracing the lines of your hand.

"Okay, I'll make sure to not get hurt again to take up your bed." You snorted with a small smile forming on your face.

"You know what I'm talking about, don't give me another heart attack like this one, I thought I lost you when you sent the coordinates and didn't answer when I asked what was happening." He held your hands more firmly, afraid that you would suddenly vanish right in front of his eyes.

Placing a small kiss on his temples you smiled with confidence, headbutting him lightly like how he had done moments ago.

"Don't worry, I promise to do my best to not get stabbed again."

That got Schlatt to laugh as he gave you some more space, squeezing your hand he moved on the bed, sticking his legs out and pushing a blanket over himself.

"You better do your fucking best alright, now, let's talk shit about those magazine people, and how they look so uncomfortable in the covers."

#dream smp #IGDSMP #c!schlatt #c!schlatt x reader #imagine

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ahtsumu · 4 years ago

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cOuNtRy BoY i LoVe YoUuU–– miya atsumu.

GENERAL HEADCANONS

☆ y’know that kid everyone hates but all the parents love? that’s miya atsumu for you

he’s such a mama’s boy ugh

she’ll see him with mud all over his jeans and be like “miya atsumu! what’d i tell you ‘bout goin’ muddin’!?” and he’s like “sorry ma! just got too excited”

and what’s she gonna do? nothing. absolutely nothing. she just laughs and shake her head because atsumu’s boyish charm is adorable

osamu hates this !!! they’re always competing for mama miya’s heart LOL

☆ says “mornin’ ma'am how’s your day been so far” to the gas station lady and then roasts the life out of his friends

anyone older than 30 adores atsumu to death and anyone his age thinks he’s the annoying dumb hot guy LMAO

☆ plays quarterback on the football team and he’s damn good at what he does !! he’s taken the team to nationals three times already and he’s hoping to end senior year with a first place trophy

☆ teachers also love him to death bc he’s such a sweet-talker and asking questions as if he actually cares about differential equations and antiderivatives but nooo LOL bby’s just trying to make the GPA cut for travelling

it’s a 2.2

☆ on days without practice he’ll hang out around the school parking lot with the Gang™, leaning against his pick-up truck and blasting music from his car speakers to look “cool”

rlly he’s just wasting his time and even his friends think it’s stupid asf like omg no one is looking. atsumu how r u not embarrassed

☆ drives stick shift and thinks he’s hot shit 😭😭😭 he’s not wrong it is hot tho

☆ plays country trap around the boys

when “old town road” first dropped lil nas x was on repeat for 2 months

atsumu has a playlist of EVERY SINGLE REMIX and he’s like “they’re differENT juSt liSTen!!!”

out of all of the boys he has the WORST taste in country music it’s deadass just lil nas x, florida georgia line, luke combs, and morgan wallen

sometimes he’ll spice it up with a little luke bryan but that’s pushing it 😭

his guilty pleasure is that one farmer song by lil tracy and lil uzi vert

do not trust him with the aux

someone come collect him pls

☆ atsumu’s favourite southern meal undoubtedly has meat in it–– ribs, fried chicken, pulled pork, you name it

but he’s weak for peach cobbler and a side of vanilla ice cream for dessert bc homeboy’s got a massive sweet tooth

☆ he may be helpful in helping out with farmwork but this boy cannot fish to save his life

he has a picture of him holding a MASSIVE trout on his instagram and tinder (which he downloaded illegally for his ego lmfao) but really osamu caught it for dinner one night while camping and atsumu stole it for a 30 second photo

☆ owns camouflage but ironically !

whips it out on days he thinks suna might pull up in camo

why? no one knows. it cracks him up tho LMFAO

☆ atsumu actually dresses quite well–– his style is the typical southern prep:

a pair of jeans/shorts and a crisp button-up paired with double monks

loves a good leather belt

his favourite leather is BROWN leather, thank you very much !

☆ owns cowboy boots and he’s so proud of them

they’re steel-toed and decorated by a simple stitch pattern but it gets all the city folks fawning over him so it’s his most prized possession

HE USES THEM TO IMPRESS CITY FOLK LOL he’s like “howdy” and they’re like 😍🤤😍🤤😍🤤

flirts by asking if they’d like to see his horse i––

☆ like his twin, atsumu is undoubtedly great with animals

dogs love him !! like they’re just naturally attracted to him plus he gets so smiley and happy around them

he was probably a golden retriever in a past life lmfaoo

he’s a phenomenal horse-rider too

he rides the horses out at night bc he just loves the wind in his face,,, like a dog

where he differs from osamu is that he hates the actual work of taking care of an animal lmao

☆ works a summer job at six flags because he loves going on rides for free he’s so cute ugh

DATING HEADCANONS

☆ aside from football atsumu also starts the inarizaki high school slam poetry club, which is, coincidentally, also just the entire football team

listen it’s rlly cute how the slam poetry club was founded ok don’t laugh

after developing a massive crush on you, atsumu realises that he’s got too much of a meathead reputation to stand a chance LOL so he goes out of his way seem more “intellectual”

basically he’s like “i’m gonna venture into poetry bc girls love sensitive guys” and convinces the entire football team to host slam poetry nights in hopes you’ll show up at the shows

he starts leaving little poems in your locker and it’s like rupi kaur shit 😭

“you’re the brightest rose

in this garden

and you

don’t

even

know.

---a.m.”

☆ anyway you don’t even show up to the slam nights (you have ✨taste✨) but you do show up to his games!

☆ and eventually he works up the courage to actually ask you out and ofc you say yes bc he does it in such a cute way ugh

he stops you in the parking lot after a game and goes like “hey, uh, yer in my econ class and all yer comments are always so funny and..” and he’s just word-vomiting and eventually he gets to the point where he’s like “anyway i was wonderin’ if yer free friday night?”

☆ your first date is actually at an empty field near school

you’re just talking and getting to know each other better in the back of his pick-up truck under a bright moon, covered in blankets, each of you cradling a hot mug of cider

it’s kinda chilly but atsumu is literally a furnace

and atsumu just opens up the notes app on his phone and he reads you six poems and they’re all like 4 lines with weird enjambment HAHAHA

“you look.

just like the moon.

---a.m.”

most of his lines are actually plagiarised from popular country songs and you definitely recognise them but he just looks so darn cute awh you can’t rlly call him out rn (but you definitely do later in your relationship)

around two hours into the date he’s like “actually i’m the president of the slam poetry club” and you’re like “oh that’s cool!” (no it’s not omg ur praying he doesn’t start slamming right then and there bc you’ve heard rumours of what horrors the club has produced)

☆ if you like driving be prepared to Not Drive once you start dating atsumu (... or at least drive Less Frequently… unless you cut him a deal of some sort...)

he LOVES picking you up for school and this is the only time he’ll change the music playing in his car !!

he puts on the little playlist he made just for you and it’s got songs like:

cruise by florida georgia line (he literally always runs up to you and randomly sings “baby you a song” 😭)

burnin’ it down by jason aldean

play it again by luke bryan

but your song is “our song” by taylor swift ugh he knows every single line and he’s been dreaming of having a relationship like the one she describes ever since it dropped

ps: he’s actually the world’s biggest swiftie and thinks her earliest albums were the best

he got osamu on board too LMAO they go to her concerts whenever she visits their state. now you do too!!

☆ always drives with one hand on your thigh bc he’s just like that 🥰

☆ tried to learn how to play the guitar to serenade you but it was a miserable fail (he just can’t do the barre chords bc they’re so hard and what for !!)

☆ he’s such a good line-dancer tho

he’ll take you out to dance and it’s just such a vibe to see him smiling under lights, spinning you around at the barn dance with the goofiest smile on his face

☆ any time you guys fight or argue he’ll head out to the pasture behind his house and brood under the moon in the back of his pick-up truck LOL he’s so dramatic but it’s so cute!!

#miya atsumu #miya atsumu x reader #miya atsumu hcs #miya atsumu headcanons #haikyuu!!

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knifesxedge · 3 years ago

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hi love im deep in ur art blog for reasons and im SO in love with the fact that ur ghoul has his OWN nickname tattooed on him in party's writing they are SO 🥺 was wondering if you wanted to talk a bit more abt ghouls tattoos??? theyre just SO gorgeous and intricately laid out

HI i LOVE u i am KISSING u i would love love love to talk about ghoul’s tattoos 🥺❤️

^ yeah ghoul & party have each other’s handwriting tattooed!! for party it’s one of the only tattoos they have & it’s right over their heart (im sure ive mentioned this fact before but idk if ive explicitly noted that it says ‘sunshine’) and ghoul didn’t have the space to put his right over his heart because poison’s kj symbol is there so his is on his upper arm (they ARE soooooooo 🥺 i love them)

ghoul’s tattoos are a healthy mix of sentimental ink and things he just thought were beautiful. when he met the rest of the four he didn’t have THAT many tattoos because 1. he was 14 2. he’d only been in the zones for a little under a year and a half at that point but the ones he DID have (aka his oldest tattoos) were his knuckle tattoos (‘freed’ and ‘fuck’ what can i say he was 13), the big raven on his upper shoulder and neck (he started believing in the witch very early compared to other cityborns but yeah that tattoo was both a way of symbolizing his devotion to the witch and a way of marking himself as a killjoy/shedding his past in the city in the way that he considered clearest), the fangs on his hand, two bats on his leg, the zombie bite on the other side of his neck (i could get a little more into this but BASICALLY ghoul being an ex-crow trainee + a cityborn + being the only surviving member of his first crew had a problem with feeling inhuman and a lot of survivor’s guilt and so he really. idk he connected a lot with zombies & frankenstein’s monster and ghosts & the like when he was a runner for dr. d post-his crew’s deaths. he got better about Seeing Himself as a Person especially once kobra + the other two showed up but the fascination remained) (also not tattoo-related but that’s when he chose his name. before that he’d been called ‘sandpup’ by his old crew & he never had a chance to tell them before they passed but he really loved that they used that as a name for him especially with how much he didn’t want to associate himself with the city) (ghoul had A Lot of issues but the difference there is that he worked thru them a lot earlier than the rest of the four) and “I FORGIVE U” on the back of his neck (in remembrance of said former crew).

umm along with that kind of fascination with the undead/feeling that kind of connection are the frankenstein stitches on his wrists (tho thats more of a common hc) and he has this pretty big tattoo of abstracted bones following his vertebrae down his throat and chest that he’s gotten expanded/fixed/touched up over the years. ik i do a lot of b&w doodles but i feel like i’ve been kind of inconsistent about coloring (most of his tattoos are color). pretty sure ive mostly drawn them in green (???) but in my head they’re like a faded light blue using natural skin tone as highlights.

his more sentimental tattoos…let me see if i can outline them here. this might not be exhaustive but i will do my best to list what ive figured out at least thus far:

the two little bats on his right thigh are for his grandmother and little sister. his sister (juliet adele fujikawa, b. april 2009 d. december 2014) was killed in a car crash shortly before he left the city, and likewise, his grandmother (charlotte fujikawa [藤川千尋] b. june 1936 d. december 2014) was “moved to retirement housing” at about the same time. that was pretty much the last straw & ghoul left battery city within the week

there’s his crewmates’ symbols on his chest (in order from his right to left: kobra, jet, party) (gotten when their crew had been together for a while. dating this one is based on a couple things: 1. ghoul had been with them for long enough that he felt secure 2. poison and ghoul were friends by this point, or else he wouldn’t have included their symbol and 3. poison’s is over his heart so you can read into that as you will)

text from the graffiti bible on his right calf, as protection for his crew & as a reminder of one of his former friends who was a droid that believed very strongly in destroya’s return

his raygun on his chest (he was pretty proud of the design! this was when he was ~15 or 16) that he had poison’s added to post-sing post-engagement pre-commitment ceremony (so. september 2023) (yes i have my handwritten timeline + my own drawings + my fics out in front of me rn cross-referencing sldkdksksbx!)

one of the girl’s childhood drawings (one she drew of him & her & the stuffed animal he made for her when she was a baby all having a tea party together) from when she’s about 5 or so on his right hip (december 2022 or so)

shooting stars on his upper right shoulder, partially because they’re pretty and blend well with his other tattoos and partially because they’re a reminder of a lot of things, including but not limited to his first night out in the zones seeing the stars for the first time, stories his grandma used to tell him, and right when he’d first joined the fab four and him & kobra sat on the roof during a meteor shower

besides the other one i already mentioned ^ he has more of poison’s handwriting on his left inner forearm — this is also one ive mentioned before but once they’ve been in a relationship for a while they get into the habit of leaving little love notes around for each other! there’s nothing particularly special specifically about the one he got tattooed, besides the fact that it reminded him of poison and they love each other. the text in full (which i don’t think ive ever put anywhere, though im pretty sure ive put fragments of it in fics and art) is as follows:

Good Morning baby <3! I needed new paints, went on a run. Kobra has the Girl @ the Crash Track, Jet’s at the station. call me when you wake up! I love you, be back soon. XO Party <3

he also has the anniversaries of when they started dating and their commitment ceremony (03•03•21 and 10•26•23 respectively) on the inside of his right wrist ^ !

he’s got a snake wrapping around his left leg that kobra picked out and a hand of cards with the ace of spades face up that jet picked out (and these ofc are because they remind him of his crewmates!!)

he has the phoenix witch tattooed on his ribs, left side, styled vaguely after catholic saints (since that imagery can still be found in the inner zones & especially where ‘joys who still practice that religion gather!)

there’s a version of the eye from the mailbox on his right shoulder, and this one is also a sort of symbol of protection/good luck, to show devotion to the witch and to help protect himself and his crew

the constellation libra on his left forearm! this one was done a little while after he started running transmissions and supplies for dr. d! he liked the connection that astrology — whether he believed in the practice or not is up for debate — gave people to the stars, and the feeling that he had a place in the universe, predestined or not

after charlie is born, he gets a portrait of her (~age 4) with her name and birthday underneath done on his left thigh! (~2036)

and on his lower back, he has a fairly simple tattoo of two crows on a wire with their beaks pressed together (aughhhhhh romance) that he gets done as an anniversary surprise for their 10-year (so. 2033)!

his non-sentimental tattoos are largely based off of images from books, either from dr. d’s collection when he was working as a runner for him or from cherri’s after he joined up with the fab four, or else they’re naturally occurring in the zones!! this includes but is not limited to: california golden poppies on the back of his left shoulder, strawberries around his left bicep (he doesn’t ever have a strawberry until he’s like 35, this one is absolutely based off of a particularly pretty illustration), a thundercloud with lightning on his left elbow, a moon on his right inner bicep, a ring of thorns around his right forearm right under the elbow, a dagger on his inner left calf, and a sun, small bat, cross, rose, ribbon (with the word ‘faith’ in script), and wing on his right forearm and hand, all picked from flash sheets

so yeah! that’s about everything i have to say about ghoul’s tattoos atm but ty ty ty sm for letting me ramble abt them i think about his tattoos so much 😔❤️

#danger days #fun ghoul #ttlotfk #killjoys california #headcanons #killjoys #funpoison #hcs #pi's personal #jordan tag ⚠️#query on top #i LOVE U SM !!!!! 💕❤️💕❤️💕❤️#sorry you got an essay & also that it took me all day to get this out i have SO many thoughts #& i really hope i didn’t miss anything but i MIGHT have because tumblr deleted half of what i typed when i tried to save a draft SO.

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lossie92 · 3 years ago

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Hello again! I do hope I am not bothering you with the repeat anons, and if I am please know that I am so sorry. Don't feel obligated to respond if you don't wish too but I just wanted to say a few things.

First off, I'm so sorry you have gotten the virus, I completely understand where you're coming from with the lack of energy. I have cystic fibrosis which comes along with cronic pain and exhaustion so for the two plus weeks I was sick with the rona I think I was awake an average of 4 hours a day lol. I was lucky enough to have no lasting symptoms and I wish all the same to you. May you have a speedy recovery and your symptoms be mild, I'm sending you all the love 💗!

Second, I'm really thankful to hear your thoughts when it comes to darker or more triggering subjects, especially rape. I am 100% of the opinion that writing is complete fiction and a should be a safe space to explore and work though your thoughts and experiences. However, correct usage of tags are essential so that people are aware of and can currate what they wish to see or not see. The author needs to be aware of what kind of material they are creating and how it comes across. I don't want to get to personal, so I'll just leave it at thank you for spreading awareness about victim blaming in the rape culture we live in. Fiction is fine until it affects someone's reality.

Onto a more positive note, I wanted to thank you again for all the wonderful work you've put out into the world! I don't know what it is but since I've found your blog something clicked and I've gotten my spark back. I'm creating things again and I'm so happy to do so! I haven't written for anything besides school content and scientific papers in years and yet I've written so much in the past few weeks, just fun, stupid stuff I don't have to turn in for a grade or even show anyone if I don't want to! I've gotten out my old bags and boxes of yarn and half finished cross stitch projects and I'm so full of ideas I could just cry. I'm hoping to possibly make something based of one of your pieces if that would be alright? It's totally fine if not though, I would never want to steal someone's work!

I know I probably sound like a broken record at this point but once again, from the bottom of my heart, thank you 🥰.

If you feel up for answering a question, here's a silly one: Pineapple on pizza, yay or nay? Or, what is the weirdest food combination you enjoy?

Hi there! Sorry for the late response, I wanted to be at least a bit coherent when responding to you. Hope you don't mind 😅

You're not bothering me at all! I actually really like getting your messages. Totally a highlight of the day!

Thank you for the well wishes! I feel much better now. Still fatigued af and coughing, but that's not all that different from the usual lol. I was awake more or less the same amount as you tbh and I still have to nap during the day, because I feel like shit otherwise. Hopefully it gets a bit better with time. Fingers crossed and all that.

Also, I hope you are feeling better now?

Thank you for saying that. I means a lot 🥺❤️

Omg I'm so happy to hear this! Yay to you for getting inspiration back! I'm glad I could be of help in that! It's awesome~! 😄 Yes, you can use one of my pieces as long as you credit me. I'm actually REALLY excited to see what you come up with (if you decide to share it ofc) 👀

I used to like pineapple on pizza, actually. Haven't had it in a long time though so my taste might have changed. When it comes to the weirdest food combo, I enjoy savoury dumplings with beetroot salad on the side. Tbh I don't personally consider this weird, but I have been told by other people that it is weird so🤷

#my fave anon #honestly #so nice

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kae-karo · 4 years ago

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2020 fic roundup

howdy pardners 🤠🤠 in order to procrastinate more writing here’s my list of all the fics i posted this year (sorted predominantly by ship and mostly in order of posting) - ft a lot of dabihawks and a surprising amount of todobaku lmao. oh and my personal faves are **starred

dabihawks (x)

a lesson in romantics (x) - 66k across 4 fics - the collection of standalone memory loss fics! canon divergent and centered around either dabi or hawks losing their memories thanks to the wonderful commission :) some solid angst and getting back together content, always happy endings!!

haven’t had enough (x) - 5.7k - silly little quirkless au where dabi goes to claire’s to get his ears pierced. multiple times. bc hawks is hot

last of the real ones (x) - 2.6k - less silly, just as little, set in canon-divergence bc i couldn’t get the idea out of my head of dabi getting red wings tattooed on him before ever meeting hawks

**dancing after death (x) - 25k - one of my faves from this year, a canon divergent sort of getting together story involving nightmares, some bad burns, and a bit of dancing

if you fall (hold my hand) (x) - 7.4k - canon divergence (bc apparently i’m a slut for that) and some hurt/comfort, ft a bit of makeout-level spice

no shame (x) - 16k - ah, and here we really dive into the ‘crack treated too seriously’ category, where the league sells feet/hand/misc kink pics to fund their activities and dabi has some photography skills and a wing kink (or maybe just a hawks kink)

broken parts (x) - 23.9k - i stole my own idea for a vigilante!hawks from my tiktok, then twisted it into a severely angsty (with a happy ending) hurt/comfort fic intended to break my own heart and piece it back together. it worked

freeing icarus (x) - 1.8k - the first fic without a happy ending i think i ever wrote, because the canon dabihawks fight actually broke me. some dabi introspection

**to the stars that burn (x) - 3.9k - the second fic without a happy ending, based more around childhood friends dabihawks working at the commission together. bittersweet but without much sweet

**king of disaster (x) - 119k+ - i poured my entire soul into this series, a fantasy au where dabi accidentally binds himself to hawks (an absolute stranger) and shenanigans ensue - this has also evolved to include todobaku, shinkami, and kirideku

enemy of my enemy (x) - 2.6k - a quirkswap space pirate au that truly tested my ability to write action scenes, part of the random prompt collection i did during october 2020

without a fight (x) - 2.2k - a rival band au ft singer!hawks and a grumpy dabi, another of the random october prompts

todobaku (x)

like i’m bakugou (x) - 2.1k - it was supposed to be a MEME based on a TIKTOK but i made it kinda serious....and here we are. todobaku on a froyo date

take a bite of my heart tonight (x) - 5k - VAMPIRES lmao. honestly it was a blast to write tho lmao

**if we go down, then we go down together (x) - 9.3k - tdbk get stranded on a deserted island bc tropes are fun lmao. also todo tries to freeze the ocean like elsa which i think is where my writing skill peaked

cold rebellion (x) - 4k - quirkless au where its HALLOWEEN and theyre in a CORN MAZE and they don’t LIKE EACH OTHER BAKA (part of the october prompt fic collection)

make it spicy (x) - 5k+ - predominantly todobaku with a healthy dose of dabihawks and some shiggynatsu as well, a bakery and nightclub au (yes u heard me)

**stitch me up (x) - 35k - todo gets split into both halves of his quirks, sort of, and baku has to deal with it (and i love this au so much i had a blast working on it)

bakudeku

rescue me (x) - 11.4k - basically the concept of ‘what if baku and deku were actually childhood friends tho? aka some good wholesome content

**into the dark (x) - 3.3k - afterlife au and originally part of the random prompts, baku didn’t survive the sludge villain incident and deku’s been carrying that weight for a while. and then he doesn’t survive a villain encounter...keep an eye on this one cause i’m working on a part 2 lmao

are you with me (x) - 2.1k - future fic where baku and deku are both heroes and, appropriately, the wonder duo. lil angsty but ofc a happy ending, part of the random oct prompts collection

todobakudeku (x)

**kintsugi (x) - 117k - future fic where they’re all UA teachers, with some established todobaku + todobakudeku getting together, a lil sprinkle of erasercloudmic, a nice dose of shinkami and some great shiggy redemption arc + eri attending UA content

reunion (x) - 1.8k - another future fic lmao with some getting-back-together content. part of the random october prompts collection

kiribaku (x)

rewrite the stars (x) - 2.8k - also a mina&kiri friendship fic, a soulmate au where kiri doesn’t get the soulmate he was hoping for (part of the oct prompts collection)

the mystery gang (x) - 4.1k - tell me how i wrote this much about a scooby doo-styled fic concept lmao. anyway, part of the oct prompts, includes some bakusquad shenanigans

wasteland, baby (x) - 4.5k - bakusquad bodyswap post-apocalyptic au and yes it’s just as chaotic as it sounds lmao. part of the oct prompts collection

like the sun (x) - 2.8k - the beach episode + baku&mei friendship (which i learned is called kat and the hat???? adorable) fluffy content, part of the oct prompts collection!

something sweet (x) - 1.2k - the actual kiribaku prompt i got lmao. coffee shop meets scavenger hunt, we adore a grumpy barista baku lmao. part of the oct prompts collection

todokami/todo&kami

oh, worm? (x) - 16.5k - it was supposed to be a joke but oh my god i love the idea of both todo and denki being memelords and falling in love with each other over it

secret tunnel (x) - 3.6k - conspiracy theorist todo meets conspiracy theorist denki in college au format and it’s really just top tier content imo - part of the oct prompt collection

all i want for christmas (x) - 3.5k - it was supposed to be a crack concept but as per usual it became less cracky the longer i thought about it. todokami fake dating babeyyyy - part of the oct prompt collection

**hydrangea (x) - 2.9k - soft todo introspection about his lil dragon hoard of things that make him think of his friends, which he decides to share with denki

shiggynatsu (x)

**death of summer (x) - 28k - the first fic i ever wrote for them and the most chaotic meeting i could come up with within the realm of canon divergence lmao. todofam hosting...shmigaraki

terrible people (x) - 960 - a lil babie established shiggynatsu fic about shiggy’s bday, basically just soft and wholesome - part of the oct prompt collection

shinkami (x)

don’t want to say goodnight (x) - 3.2k - kyouka pov on a shinkami getting together lil thing that lived in my brain rent free for a long time

don’t want to say goodnight (x) - 1k - yes i’m aware i see what i’ve done lmao i see the mistake i made. anyway this one is villain!shinsou and villain!denki so it’s like,,,,,the slightly spicier version. part of the oct prompt collection

other

**twelve over, seven up (x) - 4.5k - a bit of aizawa introspection after oboro’s death, bittersweet but mostly wholesome

a danger and a wonder (x) - 2.4k - mina&tokoyami friendship and bonding over mina’s kid and hawks’ kid (who tokoyami is babysitting) - part of the oct prompt collection

fish and feathers (x) - 4.1k - my chance to flex my remaining runescape knowledge to have jirou and denki friendship via the interwebs content

a name freely given (x) - 4.2k - shigadabi fake dating royalty au where shiggy’s fae? sure why not lmaoooo. part of the oct prompt collection

kabloom flower shop (x) - 2.8k - a wrong-number tattoo shop/flower shop kirikami au that was lowkey hilariously fun to write. part of the oct prompt collection

awake me from my nightmare (x) - 2.3k - the only fic i’ve ever tagged with mcd, an among us au of all things. baku&uraraka friendship and betrayal, part of the oct prompt collection

**for the record (x) - 2.1k - shiggy&dabi...allianceship? sort of? lmao they’re angel and demon, spies, and part of like a rebellion thing. and they don’t like each other which is always fun! part of the oct prompt collection

a different kind of hero (x) - 1.1k - established tododeku future fic where todo just got his quirk stolen (and deku already lost his in an afo fight), mostly bitter with just a tiny spark of hopefulness. part of the oct prompt collection

forget me not (x) - 2.1k - kiri&uraraka friendship, amnesia and artist au like i really went off here but it was so sweet and wholesome and i had a great time. part of the oct prompt collection

**lightning in a bottle (x) - 4.5k - chaotic kamibaku getting together but they’re WITCHES it’s a MAGIC AU and BEDSHARING IS A THING. part of the oct prompt collection

passing notes (x) - 1.6k - shiggy&eri friendship which is a thing that would be hilarious if it happened in canon tbh. part of the oct prompt collection

no turning back (x) - 6.5k - shiggy&deku friendship but make it royalty au and a 5/1 trope just for kicks lmao. part of the oct prompt collection

worthy adversary (x) - 1k - baku&shinsou friendship/childhood friends au that deserved more than 1k lmao. part of the oct prompt collection

together (x) - 3.2k - denki&mina friendship but they’re allied with vampires to fight some werewolves bc why not right? also lil taste of shinkami just like tiny bit for the flavor™. i should really do a bit more with this au huh? part of the oct prompt collection

a good thing (x) - 1.2k - shinsou&aizawa friendship? fathership? sonship? u know how it is lmao. a little sprinkle of shinkami for the flavor. part of the oct prompt collection

brighter than the sun (x) - 730 - can u tell i don’t usually write miritama lmao. some soft parallels bc they are soft. part of the oct prompt collection

try again (x) - 1.4k - dabi&shouto siblingship but dabi can time travel bc i said so (actually bc the prompts said so but whatever lmao) part of the oct prompt collection

that’s it lovelies!! nearly 600k this year and some of my favorite fics i’ve ever written, and i cannot begin to thank you all enough for your incredible support, i adore you all so much 🥺🥺🥺🥺

#bnha #dabihawks #todobaku #bakudeku #shinkami #bnha fic

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whenimaunicorn · 4 years ago

Text

The Heart of Admiration - Part 4

Charles Vane x OFC slow burn - Part One - Part Two - Part Three

Note: since this story is getting so long, I’ve decided to convert it to a third person OC. She’s really acquired too much specific backstory to be a Reader insert already. So meet Hope Wickham, who hopefully feels like a natural extension of the same character! I’ve never done this before, hope I’m pulling it off gracefully.

Chapter Summary: Acceptance by Vane’s crew comes along with a little drunken violence, but who would expect any less from pirates? Treating Vane’s wound brings more intimacy than Hope bargained for... CW for combat and giving someone stitches.

This episode’s prompt: “I wonder what will get you killed first – your loyalty or your stubbornness?”

The tavern is dark, and so thick with smoke that Hope’s eyes are burning around the edges. But the ale is strong, the company is spirited, and all she sees are wide grins around the table. That’s all that matters to her.

The Ranger crew is celebrating again. They’ve just taken port in Tortuga after their third successful hunt since finding themselves on Miss Guthrie’s shit list; the leads she had provided them since the night Captain Vane stormed out of her office had been more insulting than if she had given them none, and so they put their heads together and sought their prizes outside of the neighborhood of Nassau. The takes were smaller, so far, and not everyone here already knew their reputation, yet, but it was well worth it to keep on feeling free.

“This one’s for that Guthrie bitch,” Anne Bonny growls as she thrusts her tankard up for another toast. “Just ‘cause we all know she wouldn’t want us to have it.” Grunts and guffaws answer her around the long, creaking table that the Ranger’s officers and most sociable crewmen have crowded around. “Don’t matter if we can’t fence our prizes, so long as we can drink ‘em!”

That gets a round of cheers and splashing clinks of pewter tankards. Hope drinks deep to that one, short-sighted as she finds the sentiment to be. Because the real point is, with takes like these they’ve managed to keep the morale of the crew up, despite setbacks. They hadn’t lost one capable sailor over the humiliation Eleanor had tried to deal them. In fact, the experience appeared to be knitting the crew tighter together, with Hope right in there with them.

Her expertise helped, as Jack had predicted. The Ranger’s crew had a reputation for idiocy and belligerence once they got into the drink on shore, but every sailor respects the skill of a navigator that can not only lead them right to the richest prizes, but also point them straight back towards a port where they can waste those riches as quickly as possible. It also helped that Hope had drank a few of them under the table that first night, that her wit was only sharpened by liquor, and oh yes, that she had found a few choice words for Nassau’s despot herself on that evening.

Shane, the Ranger’s boatswain, elbows her deep in the ribs. “Tell us again,” he slurs, drinking entirely too fast as he so often does on nights like these, “how you gave the Guthrie woman a piece of your mind last time we was in her joint.”

Hope presses her lips together in a restrained sort of grin. She resists the urge to glance at Captain Vane; if she looks too worried about his reaction it will only set him off worse. But any mention of Eleanor tends to sour his mood, whether negative or neutral. (Positive mentions simply do not happen among this crew). Her eyes travel as far as Jack Rackham, seated beside the captain, and she can see he is checking on him already. When no flash of concern lights up the quartermaster’s eyes, Hope feels safe to at least start telling the story. “I don’t know what she was thinking, approaching me like that.”

Even though she speaks quietly, many of the side conversations cease, heads up and down the long table swiveling around to pay attention to her tale. It seems like no matter how often this episode comes up, there is at least one crewman present that has not yet heard her tell it from her own mouth.

“She had already failed to perturb the Captain, with whatever she said in that private meeting she called him into after we cashed in her lead,” Hope continues, setting the stage.

“Thought she could drag him in by his ear, like she was his fecking mum,” one of the gunmen interrupts. Nods and grunts of agreement pass around the table. Hope just loves the way the men so gleefully rehash the same old stories when they’re in their cups, loves even more that she’s started to be in them.

“He’s not fallin’ for that shite anymore,” Shane piles on, sending a look up the table at Vane that’s half approval, half challenge.

As usual, Captain Vane chooses the path of least words. “Bitch can rot,” he growls over the rim of his cup. His eyes simmer with more complicated feelings than those three words belie, but only to someone who’s looking.

“Which is what he told her, more or less.” Jack’s melodious voice smooths the story along, taking the attention off the uneasy topic of the crew’s feelings about their captain’s… entanglements. “So on to Plan B, Miss Guthrie went.” His eyes turn back to Hope, and most of the crew’s follow.

“She comes by my table, just stands there at first, stiff as you please. Like I’m just going to jump up as soon as she notices me.”

Anne rolls her eyes.

Hope remembers the way her stomach jumped at that point, her respect for Miss Guthrie not yet lost, but there is no reason to recount that part of the story. “Then she does this little cough, when I keep on drinking, take my next turn throwing the dice.”

“It was a good throw, too,” someone pipes in from further down the table.

“It was,” Hope agrees, “and I had a stack of coin on it.” She takes a swig of ale. “But she just stares at me. And as soon as my hand is on my winnings—‘may I have a word with you, Miss Wickham.’” She does a passingly fair imitation of the woman’s voice, higher and snootier than her own.

“What did she want?”

“She told me she was going to get me on another ship.”

The room always gets quieter at this part of the story. A warm, tingling sort of feeling blooms in Hope’s chest, at the way her new crew takes such pride in this exchange. It reassures her more deeply each time, that she made the right call when she took Eleanor’s offer as an insult.

“’It’s terrible, what Vane is doing to you,’ she has the nerve to say to me. ‘But the Nightingale is coming in tomorrow. And the Walrus.” Groans all around the table. They always groan at the mention of the Walrus. “I’ll get you set up with a crew that’s more civilized.” And every time she repeats that line, there is less booing and more harsh, prideful laughter. Hope scoffs. “Like I’m already in her pocket, a piece to move around on her chessboard as she sees fit. She says to me: ‘Vane can’t force you to do anything.’ And I look right back at her, take the drink out of her hand, and say ‘no, he can’t. And neither can you.” Her neck prickles at the way the men look at her when she tells this part. “I like his ship. I like his crew.’ I lean in, sip a drink out of her own cup, and say, ‘I think I might even be starting to like him.”

More cheering, and fists hammer on the table. They love that part. Everything had felt so crystal-clear in that moment, when Eleanor Guthrie patronized to her like that. Hope didn’t want to be protected, didn’t want to be sheltered or assigned. She wanted to earn what she’d got; and here was a crew she was already bonding with, (drunkenly at least) and a captain who respected her skills so much that he’d gone out of his way to get her on his ship, and respected her mind so much that he’d rushed Jack to make sure she felt she could leave.

“So take your fake concern for my wellbeing, I said to her, and go fuck yourself with it. Since Vane’s not at your beck and call to take care of that for you anymore, either.” It wasn’t exactly what Hope had really said. But every story gets larger in the retelling of it, does it not?

Tankards are banging on tables, toasts are being raised, and Shane whacks Hope on the back in comradely approval. “And that’s the night you became one of us.”

She can’t read anything in Vane’s stillness as he regards her from the head of the table.

Hours later, Hope and Anne are staggering back into the tavern, arm in arm, coming back from a piss ‘round the back of the building. In this town a woman’s got to have someone right there watching her back before she can even think of squatting down. “Where’s everyone?” Anne slurs, her brows furrowing as she inspects the corner where the Ranger crew used to be sitting. Her head swivels toward the other side of the room, Hope’s following rapidly after.

Many of the crew appear to have moved along to some other establishment, or perhaps staggered down to their tents set up on the beach. Jack and Captain Vane are still here, though, sitting at a table with two men Hope doesn’t recognize. All four of them are positively bristling.

Their Captain waves the women over when he spots them. Anne lets herself be tucked under Jack’s arm, and Hope cautiously takes the open chair next to Vane. The strangers at the table look surly, one with long hair tied back into a disheveled tail, the other’s brown locks cropped closer but no less messy. Their once-fine coats, stained and inexpertly repaired, mark them for fellow pirates.

“Captain Mackinaw,” Vane introduces, wrapping a hand over the top of Hope’s shoulder as he does, “meet Hope Wickham, my navigator.”

She braces herself for the long-haired man to comment on her sex, as so many men do, but this Mackinaw is too preoccupied to do more than nod vaguely in her direction. “I can’t just let this stand, Charles.”

Vane nods. Hope has never known him to be a sloppy drunk, but she can feel his inebriation in the careful way he removes his hand from her shoulder and reaches out for the ale on the table. He lifts it for a long, contemplative sip as his fellow looks at him expectantly. “You want me to back you up?” he offers, in slow, measured tones.

Mackinaw looks relieved. “They’re at the north end of the beach. If we make a show of numbers, I reckon they’ll hand it back over without a fight.” He takes another long pull of his own drink, the gesture much sloppier than how Vane had pulled off. Hope resists the urge to roll her eyes.

“And if they don’t?” Jack asks.

Mackinaw smiles sharply. “Then they’ll learn what it means to cross them that used to sail with Edward Teach.”

“This is a terrible idea,” Hope growls through her teeth, hefting the cudgel of broken wood she’d picked up on their way down the beach.

“Nonsense,” Jack replies. “It appears they have things well in hand.” Less than twenty paces away, Vane and Mackinaw square up against an even-scruffier captain and two of his largest crewmen. Vane’s body language is bristling, and Mackinaw’s looks mocking even from here.

“I don’t believe Charles Vane has ever been known for his ability to talk his way out of a fight,” Hope retorts. She shifts, squaring her hips, attempting to add to the impression that a full crew of violent, capable men is poised to storm down the moonlit beach at a moment’s notice.

“Good,” Anne hisses, sparing one contemptuous glance for Hope as she brandishes both her knives in the direction of the tents. Mackinaw’s rivals are rousing now, recognizing the threat. “I’ve an appetite for blood tonight.”

Hope’s not even sure why she’s here. This could get every bit as bloody as a vanguard charge, if someone says the wrong word, takes things a step too far down there. Violence is not in her skill set; if anything, she should be handling this part, the negotiations that so often stop swords from crossing. But she doesn’t know Mackinaw; barely even understands the grievance he has with the other man on the beach. Something about a horse, or a woman, or a horse that belonged to a woman… and now good men might get hurt, or even killed, because Vane feels loyalty to a man he once sailed with when they both served under the notorious Blackbeard.

An angry shout. Anne takes a step forward; most of the crew lined up behind follows suit. Vane hadn’t rounded up quite all of his men from their carousing around the town, but combined with Mackinaw’s crew they look like a veritable army ready to surround the other crew’s camp.

Said crew is forming up ranks of their own, however. Mackinaw’s rival does not appear ready to back down, puffing up his chest and speaking loudly enough for her to hear the tone of blustering confidence. Hope knows a failing negotiation when she sees one. “Blood it is,” she says wryly.

She doesn’t intend for anyone to hear it, but Jack cocks his head at her.

Vane’s hand has crept to his sword. Mackinaw’s head tilts; the shabby captain grimaces, glances back at his crew, and then throws himself at his rival. The two captains struggle in the sand, pummeling each other.

Is it going to stay between them, or is everyone about to brawl? Hope catches movement from one of the big men who had been backing that captain up. He takes a step that puts him more fully behind Captain Vane, who had turned to watch the men rolling on the ground. “Watch!” she roars, in inarticulate, impulsive warning.

The men behind her surge, evidently interpreting her shout as their signal to advance. They loose themselves down the beach, stampeding Hope along with them.

She grips her cudgel tight, keeping pace with her crew to avoid being trampled. Her face and limbs flush so hot they’re prickling. She managed to see Vane turn before his attacker could strike, ducking under the blow and knocking the man in the gut with the pommel of his sword as he drew it, but after that she loses him in the jumble of bodies rushing past the both of them, to engage the charging Ranger crew.

Hope runs until she’s stopped, feeling like she’s part of a wave crashing into a craggy shore. She sees the shape of a man, arms raised in threat, and she swats at it with her cudgel. The impact of it thudding into him throws her more off-balance than she expects. But the untampered momentum with which she had hit him is enough to knock the man to the ground.

Anne roars beside her, a ferocious sound, triumphant. She kicks that man across the jaw to keep him down, then thrusts her face close to Hope’s. “Atta girl!”

And after that Anne’s bloodlust is infectious, as Hope finds herself suddenly eager to pick her next target to bludgeon. Her crimson-haired crewmate keeps pace with her, seemingly amused by Hope’s sudden spirit.

A man missing more than a few teeth looms up in front of her, and lands a blow that glances off Hope’s head. She falls back, but Jack Rackham catches her from behind and heaves her right back onto her feet again. Her attacker wasn’t expecting her to come up so fast; nor was he expecting her foot to land so heavy in his gut.

She wants to get to Vane. She doesn’t have time to consider why, only knows that the direction that she should force her feet through this fray is over to where she saw him last. She ducks under fists and shoves bodies away from her. Anne and Jack appear to have the same idea, and they’re better at it, too. Hope hears the crunch of a broken nose to her left, turns in time to see a man dropping to his knees, howling. Blood trickles down Anne Bonny’s forehead, and she doesn’t wipe it away when it reaches her open-mouthed grin.

The fighting ends just about as suddenly as it began. “Yield!” comes the voice of the enemy captain, and his men, for the most part, stand down. When the throng clears and Hope can see Charles Vane again, something in her chest loosens even though the side of his face is puffy and his hairline is stained with blood. He’s holding the shabby captain from behind, sword under his throat, and Mackinaw is gloating in front of them.

And as far as the Ranger crew is concerned, that’s the end of it. No loss of life, and not too many injuries to show for the impulsive brawl. It could have been so much worse. Hope still doesn’t even understand what it was all about. She follows her captain back to their own beach camp. She follows him through the camp, settling the wounded, watching him check on every man without slowing down. Watching him favor his left leg the whole while, and otherwise ignoring his own obvious injury entirely.

When she notices that the size of the bloodstain suffusing the fabric of Vane’s trousers has definitely been growing, Hope finally approaches him. “It’s nothing,” he grunts, waving her off. “Now where’s Jensen? He came down with us, didn’t he?”

“You’re no good to him, or any of the men, if you pass out from blood loss,” Hope scolds.

Vane looks down at himself, mouth set in an ornery line. He brings the lantern in his hand close to his thigh, and wet blood glitters. He grunts, then puts all his weight on that injured leg and gives her a pointed look, brows raised high. He’s still drunk, she realizes. “It’s fine.” His usual growl grinds tighter across the words, though. And when he tries to take a normal stride past her, the leg buckles.

She reaches out to steady him and finds herself wrapped firmly underneath his arm. He lets her support his weight for just a moment, their faces so close as he studies her expression. His jaw still has a stubborn set to it. Her palms feel hot against his body, particularly the right, which landed close to his heart. “Back to your tent,” she orders. “Let me tend to it.”

His brows furrow and she pushes him up the beach before he can argue further. He takes one step with his weight on her, then shakes off her support while muttering something about the men watching. “Jensen?” he roars, still looking around the maze of tents.

“Sleeping it off,” someone shouts in answer, and only then does Vane turn back to Hope, ready to cooperate.

She scowls, shaking her head a little as she accompanies his limping path toward his own tent. “I wonder what will get you killed first – your loyalty or your stubbornness?”

Vane doesn’t answer. He may not have even heard it. When they reach his tent, he pushes aside the flap and all but collapses inside. Hope pauses for one steadying breath before bending to follow him in. The captain seems the type to be a very difficult patient.

The lantern he had been carrying is set just inside the entryway. Vane settles onto his bedroll, a weary noise escaping his lips now that there’s no one left to observe him but Hope. She’s going to want more light, to examine that wound properly. She looks around for another lantern amongst the smattering of personal effects he’s brought to shore.

There’s rustling behind her as she gets another light blazing. When she turns around, Vane’s got his shirt off, resting back on his elbows and waiting for her.

“I’m glad to see you’ve gotten yourself more comfortable,” Hope says dryly, “but that’s not the half of your body that I need to take a look at.”

Vane grins, and Hope tries to stop herself from blushing. His sun-darkened skin glistens in the lamplight, creating an all-together different effect on her than all the other times she’s seen the man stripped to the waist while sailing. He dips his head in acknowledgment of her words and lifts his hips to remove his trousers.

Her eyes register a long line of pale white skin being revealed to her gaze before she whips her head away, belatedly realizing he’s not wearing anything underneath. The image of the side of his bare ass is going to be hard to get out of her mind now, and she makes an irritated noise at the man. “Cover yourself, please.”

She waits, probably longer than necessary, before turning herself back to face her entirely nude captain. He’s lying back against a cushion once she’s gathered her nerve, with a blanket pulled over only his uninjured leg, and his unmentionables. And is the bastard smirking? She should march herself right out of there.

But then Hope’s eyes fall on the wound that’s been revealed and she forgets her modesty. “Uglier than I was hoping to see,” she mutters, worried, and drops to her knees beside his bedroll.

Vane makes an offended noise. Did he think she was talking about his body? How drunk is he? Hope is a little concerned that he doesn’t seem concerned about the wound in his thigh, slashed down the outer edge about a foot up from his knee. She brings the lantern closer and pokes at the bright red edge. When he doesn’t flinch, she presses a little harder, moving the flesh around to try and get a better idea of the depth of the wound.

“It’s not too deep,” she reports when she’s completed her assessment, “but it could use some stitching.”

“Told you it was fine,” he says gruffly. When she glances up, he holds her eyes. He’s given her many unreadable looks since she’s come to know him. But this one, while he’s laid out naked underneath her, with the flickering light so soft and warm, sends tingles through her body. “You good with a needle?”

Hope blinks. “Yes, yes,” she stutters, searching her pockets for her sewing kit. It’s another feminine role she’s tried to avoid getting stuck in, being the one who mends, but for Captain Vane she’ll make an exception. “Hold the lantern.”

She marvels that his arm doesn’t even waver as she cleans out the wound, holding the light up steady for her above his leg. His face remains almost serene, gaze already on her each time she glances up at him, as if watching her work is all he needs to ignore the pain. She pushes the errant thought away; more likely he’s just drunk enough to feel numb.

She can see the entire length of his body, bare from the swell of his shoulder, down his sculpted waist, over his hip bone and all along his pale white leg. It’s distracting, the way the eye is pulled to the crease where his thigh meets his belly, and—

And perhaps he’s not the only one who’s still a little drunk.

“Hold the lantern closer,” she says, and squints in closer to where she’ll begin her stitching. Tells herself not to think about the body that this leg attaches to.

She thinks she hears a little hiss of air the first time the needle goes in, but it might have just been the wind. When she dares look up again, Vane still has a straight face, contemplating hers.

“It was a foolish risk,” she says as she slides the needle in a second time. “If you took this slash just a few inches in toward the artery, you could have been bleeding out.”

His voice rasps only a little worse than normal. “But I didn’t. And reputations are maintained. It was not an insult Mackinaw could let slide.”

“And his name is worth our risk?”

Vane’s eye narrow. “He would do the same for me.”

“Are you sure?” The needle goes in again, and Hope feels the barest flinch in Vane’s limb. “I’ve known many that wouldn’t care a wit for the suffering of former crewmates.”

“Teach’s crew was different.”

Hope is the one to look levelly up at him, now. She’s heard tell of how Edward Teach came to leave Nassau’s harbor. “Perhaps so. But I would not expect they would still feel that way about Charles Vane.”

Her words cut him, she can see that. He flinches in a way that her prodding at his physical wound could not have caused. “Mackinaw had left before all that,” he says simply.

Hope nods, and drops her eyes back to her work. Just two more stitches ought to do it. Was he trying to make up for that betrayal, was he happy to sacrifice what he had in service to any member of that old crew that might forgive him for having helped Eleanor drive Blackbeard out of Nassau? These are questions she does not dare ask.

“Tonight was foolish,” she says again, after completing the last stitch. She bites off the end of the thread. “Foolish, but noble.” She still feels a small amount of shame when she thinks about the dispersed crew of the Starling, about being one of the handful who now serve under the very captain that had taken their ship and exiled her brother-in-law (although from the letters her sister sends, it seems that he is supporting her just fine pirating out of other cities). She can understand those complicated feelings, the ones that have no easy answer, when facing the fallout of one’s own choices. Any action that smacks of amends must feel like a breath of cool air. Now, exhausted and sobering up in the dim of Vane’s tent, brushing her arm over his lifted knee as she wraps his wound up tight, she finds that she may actually be admiring him.

Part V

Taglist: @pleasemelafook-outta-ere @ladyhubris @summertimesadness101 @acebreathesfire @kind-wolf

#charles vane x ofc #charles vane x oc #charles vane imagine #black sails fanfic #charles vane slow burn

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avengerscompound · 5 years ago

Text

The Tower: Unexpected - 5

The Tower: Unexpected An Avengers Fanfic

Series Masterlist Previous //

Pairing: Avengers x ofc, Bruce Banner x Bucky Barnes x Clint Barton x Wanda Maximoff x Steve Rogers x Natasha Romanoff x Tony Stark x Thor x Sam Wilson x OFC (Elly Cooper)

Word Count: 2364

Warnings: Angsty stuff, the boys are mostly still being asshats, pregnancy stuff.

Synopsis: A little over 2 years after moving into the Avengers Tower, Elly finds herself pregnant against the odds. While some are excited, others are terrified, and pregnancy that none expected to happen causes rifts through the group and threatens to end the relationship.

Author’s Note: Written with my muse @fanficwriter013

Chapter 5: The Most Fertile Person in the World

It was only a few days later that the OBGyn that Tony had arranged was set up in the Tower and I had my first appointment. Her name was Doctor Schroeder and apparently she was the best in the city and Tony was paying so that by the time of the babies due date, I would be her only patient.

“Mister Stark gave me a rundown on what's happened. So we might start by getting your birth control out. But first. Do you have any questions?” She said as Steve, Wanda, Natasha and I all sat in her exam room. I was sitting in one of those hospital gowns and nothing else. I still hadn’t seen the others. Steve had said Sam had gone to see his family. Natasha assured me Clint was reading because he needed to get his head around the idea he was going to be a parent. Hulk was still around which meant Bruce was not. Bucky was still isolating as was Tony. Except where Steve saw Bucky every day, no one had seen Tony at all.

“What are the odds of this happening?” Steve asked as Wanda gave my hand a squeeze.

“The birth control Doctor Cooper was on was 99% percent effective. They say for every 1000 women on it one gets pregnant every three years. On top of the fact that you men were all on a birth control developed by doctor Banner? Now I have no idea how effective it was because there was a lack of clinical trials but I would say you have a 1 in 2000 chance of this happening really. That baby apparently really really wanted to exist.” Doctor Schroeder explained. I didn’t know if I felt better or worse hearing that. Like if it was the most unlucky thing to happen or maybe I was really lucky.

“And it’s healthy?” Steve asked.

“We’ll need to take a look, but birth control like Doctor Coopers just stops ovulation, it happened anyway. I looked at the kind you are on, and it's similar but with sperm production.” She answered. “Basically you have the guys that are the absolute strongest competitors coming together. It won’t have affected their health.”

The problem was that wasn’t the only thing we had to worry about. I looked at Steve and took a breath. “What - Do you know what will happen if it's - if Steve or Bucky or Bruce are the parent?” I asked.

She sighed. “That I can't tell you. We will monitor things carefully. As you know we can narrow it down if you want, so we know if we have anything extra to be concerned about.”

“I'm here,” Steve said. “You can take a sample - a small sample - for comparisons.”

“I thought you didn't want to know?” I said.

“If there is an issue with health, for the sake of your sanity. We should do it.” He said rubbing my leg. “But I do not want to know. That baby will be all of ours, no matter the parentage.”

“Okay. Well, how about this, I'll work out if the baby is genetically either yours, Sergeant Barnes, or Doctor Banner's when he returns, and then I'll know if there's something to keep an eye on, but I won't pass that along unless I have to?” She suggested.

Steve gave a curt nod. “I agree to these terms.”

“Alright. If there’s nothing else for the moment we’ll start by taking the birth control out. Then I’ll take some blood samples and then we can take a look. See who we’re dealing with in there.” She said.

“I’m good if you are,” Nat said to me. I got up on the examination chair and Wanda sat beside me holding my arm as Doctor Schroeder took blood samples, gave me a local anesthetic and took out the implant before sewing it up with paper stitches and putting gauze over it.

She then took a few vials of blood from Steve and explained that the earliest she could do paternity was eight weeks and that she would make a plan for that based on how far along I was now.

“Okay,” She said after she’d cleaned everything away and brought the ultrasound machine closer. “Are we ready to see the baby?” We all nodded in agreement. “Elly, I need you to lie back and spread your legs.” She said adjusting the chair back and lying a blanket over me. Wanda took my hand as Doctor Schroeder prepared the probe. “This is going to be a little uncomfortable.” She said and inserted the probe. I winced. For such a tiny thing, it pinched, that’s for sure. She shifted it around inside me at weird angles that were far from pleasant feeling. Wanda seemed to send a calming energy into me, though, and I felt her tell me she was right there, clear as if she said it out loud.

“You’re doing great, Elly. I know this isn’t fun. But look, can you see this funny little peanut shape. That’s your baby.” She said.

I looked up at the screen and saw what looked like two large black spaces in a sea of white static. To the bottom of each was a small kidney bean shaped thing with a little fluttering spot right in the middle of it. I felt the sudden urge to cry and I wasn’t even sure what I was looking at. “But there’s two,” I said.

“That’s because there are two of them. Can you see the flutter?” She said circling the spots in the middle of the kidney beans. “That’s their heartbeats. You are actually having twins.”

“Twins?” Wanda asked, her voice slightly shaky. I knew this was big for her, being a twin herself and losing her brother. “We're having twins?”

“You are,” She said moving the probe around a little. “It looks like they are fraternal too which has just blown your odds through the roof to astronomical levels. It also makes the paternity a little more complicated.”

I stared blankly at the screen. How could this be happening? I had to be the most fertile person in the world. If the other’s freaked out the way they had been about one, they were going to completely cut and run with two.

“Did you just say, that they could have two different dads?” Natasha asked, looking up at the screen.

“It’s certainly possible. It really depends on what happened here that made two different birth controls ineffective. Did one of you just forget to take it around the time her cycle rejected hers? Or do we have a case of two different lucky swimmers from two different people?” She said as she started taking measurements. “We’ll definitely have to keep a close eye on them until we figure this out. If you have one supersoldier and one baseline human their development rates could be drastically different or the super could steal the nutrients from the other. That isn’t uncommon with twins.”

“So, this is going to make things more difficult?” Steve asked. He looked a little like a deer in headlights. I recognized that look of guilt on his face. I could only imagine that he thought one of them was his and it was going to cause issues.

“Twins never make it easier.” She said jokingly. “We will work this out though. I promise. If the blood tests aren’t conclusive there are other options. We’ll monitor things closely either way.”

“Twins…” Wanda said, her hand going to my stomach.

Doctor Schroeder did a few more measurements and looked at me. “I would put them at seven weeks. Does that sound right?”

I nodded, of course, they were. “Right when Thor was here.”

She shook her head and let out a laugh. “So potential demigods too. You’re really making me earn my money here.” She said. “Would you like to hear their heartbeats?”

“Yes, we do,” Natasha said before any of the rest of us had a chance.

She flicked a switch and the room is filled with a loud swoosh swoosh sound. All four of our faces lit up at the sound. There was something about hearing it that made it very real and not just this abstract ‘scary thing’. “That’s their hearts. Going right in the zone we want them. They look very healthy.”

“We're gonna have twins, El,” Wanda said squeezing my hand.

“I know. Maybe it will be a boy and a girl like you and Pietro.” I said.

I didn’t think Wanda’s smile could get any bigger but it did right then. “Maybe.”

Doctor Schroeder moved the probe around a little more before removing it. “We’re done. Did you want a print out of the babies?”

“Yes. A couple please.” I say thinking about how the Hulk would want one.

Doctor Schroeder pushed a button on the machine and it began to whir as it printed out the pictures. “Keep that wound clean. I’ll need to take more blood in a couple of weeks for the DNA, and then we’ll have another appointment in say, 4 weeks to see how they’re developing. I’ll need to see Sgt Barnes for a blood test. I know Doctor Banner isn’t exactly here with us right now do you think the Hulk will let me take blood?”

“I think it'd be best if you let me try and do that,” Natasha said.

“Thank you. Given that Thor is a potential biological parent here if there is any way you can get a blood sample from him too. Otherwise, if it's not one of the three of you, I'll need to test everyone to rule him out.” She said as I began to dress in my regular clothes.

“We'll take care of it,” Nat assured her.

“Elly, here is a list of things you should be taking and avoiding. Plus some birthing options.” She said holding up a packet and giving it to Wanda. “Are there any other questions?” Wanda looked back at me and shook her head. “Well, it was nice to see you. I'm on call now, so if you need me for anything don't hesitate.”

I finished getting dressed and the four of us headed back out to the elevator. “Are you hungry, El?” Wanda asked.

“Yeah, a little,” I said not fully paying attention. “Twins…”

“I’ll make you something.” She said.

“Thanks. I guess… I guess I have more news to give people.” I said.

“I'm going to go get that sample from Hulk,” Natasha said. “You gonna be okay?”

“Yeah. I will be. You should take one of the pictures to him,” I said tearing off one of the ultrasound pictures and giving it to her. “He wanted to see, so it might help keep him calm. Tell him it's twins and he can come talk to them after if he wants.”

“Okay,” Nat said taking it. “I'll do that.”

“Thank you, Tasha. Thanks for coming with me.”

She kissed my cheek as the elevator stopped on Bruce’s floor. “Of course, honey. I'm going to talk to Clint too. And then I'll be back up.”

She got off and the doors closed as we traveled up to the common floor. Almost as soon as the doors closed, I felt an overwhelming urge to cry. It had been bad enough telling everyone that it was one. Now I had to do it again and tell them there was going to be two. I turned to Steve and fell against him hiding my face in his chest. He wrapped his arms around me and stroked my hair “It’s okay, El. I’ve got you.” He said, in his deep rich voice.

“Thank you. I can't believe it's twins. I feel like Loki is messing with us or something.” I said through a shaky voice. Only barely keeping the tears in.

“Well, we can ask Thor.” He said gently.

“Yeah. I guess so. Can Loki do that? Just mess with our birth control?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know, sweetheart.”

The elevator stopped and I pulled away from him taking out the paperwork from the packet to distract myself with as Wanda went to the kitchen. “There are a few things to get,” I said sitting down.

“I can handle that if you like.” He said.

I shrugged. “I’ll just add them to FRIDAY’s list. It can come in the next delivery.”

“Okay. That should work.” He said sitting down beside me.

I ran my hands over my stomach and looked down at it. “There are two people in there,” I said. “I have 3 times as many skeletons as most people.”

He shook his head and stifled a laugh. “You’re such a dork.” His hand went to my stomach and he linked his fingers with mine. “They’re going to be very loved and well cared for. You don’t have to worry.”

“Yeah. I’m gonna get really huge.”

“Is there a point to that, El?” He asked.

“Just ... I don't know. What if... And then after…”

He kissed my temple. “Use your words, sweetheart.”

“What if no one wants to be with me after this?”

“Oh, sweetheart.”

The tears came then. Fat drops running down my cheeks. “Well? I mean even taking out the fact I'm going to be massive, I apparently am the most fertile person in the planet.”

“Elly,” He said pulling me into his arms. “We're gonna deal with this. You've got us. Forever.”

“What if I'm not good at this? I didn't exactly have very good role models.”

“Neither did I,” He said. “Come on, honey. You need to just let yourself process this. I know it hasn’t exactly gone smoothly, but this is good news.”

“What are we going to tell the others?” I asked. “How am I going to tell them if they won’t even come near me?”

“They will. They love you, honey. Everyone loves you. They don’t mean to be hurting you like this.” He assured me. “When they’re ready to hear you can tell them.”

“How will I even know they’re ready?” I asked.

He kissed the top of my head. “They’ll come to you. Don’t worry.”

// NEXT

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lookatthestarrynight · 5 years ago

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Laughter is the Best Medicine - Chapter One

Poe Dameron/Doctor!OFC: Poe Dameron has joined the Resistance at the request of General Leia Organa, and he’s finally arrived on the Echo of Hope, the Resistance’s floating base of operations. While on board, he meets the Medical Director of the Resistance and... falls in love? We’ll see.

I’ve also posted this on AO3. Check my masterlist to see what I write for. Please only like, don’t reblog. Hope you enjoy, let me know what you think!

No warnings. :) 1629 words.

I didn’t see the Commander again for a few months – as soon as he was cleared for duty, the General put him (and his fellow pilots) straight to work. A week ago, he’d returned from Operation Sabre Strike, and then not even a few days later he was back out – for a mission to some swamp planet that most of the officers couldn’t seem to pronounce. In fact, he was due back from that mission in less than a few standard hours, and I’d been informed to be ready for anything. If I knew what planet he’d gone to, I could’ve done some research to better my treatment of any fauna-inflicted wounds – as I’d been told there’d been a few worrisome run-ins – but alas, no one told me anything.

As if I’d spoken his arrival into existence, a nurse stuck her head in my small office – “Dameron’s coming out of hyperspace now, the General wants you on deck.” I nodded, tossing my paperwork back on the desk – I’d do it later, surely – grabbed my med-bag and two nurses, and made quick time to the hangars.

I arrived at the same time the Black One came screaming into the hangar bay, landing just a bit rougher than I’m sure his usual would be. The ship powered down as techs rushed to help the Commander out of the cockpit, and when I finally got a glimpse of him through the crowd, I could see why he’d come in so hot – he had a rather nasty abdominal wound blooming.

I huffed, and rushed to the edge of the fray, my assistants behind me. “Medical coming through! Please step away!” The crowd parted just enough for us to squeeze through, and I got to the Commander just as he seemed to be losing touch with reality – and so, when he passed out all but a second later, he fell straight into my waiting arms as I called for a stretcher. I lowered him to the hangar floor, undoing his flight suit and cutting his undershirt away from the wound. It had been rather clumsily bandaged once already, but the action of getting out of the ship seemed to have undone anything good it might have done.

The wound wasn’t deep, and it looked like all it would need were some heavy-duty stitches and bacta patches, but I’d need my med-bay to make that happen. A stretcher arrived as I was packing the wound to stop the bleeding, and the Commander was gently placed on it and taken to the med-bay, his droid – and half the Resistance – on our heels.

An hour and a half later, I was pulling off my gloves and tossing them in the compactor bin, my job done. I sank into the visitor’s chair in Dameron’s med-bay room for a moment, as two nurses cleaned up my materials and disposed of anything remotely hazardous in the compactor bins.

I glanced down at the small orange-and-white droid that sat on the floor next to me, nervously rolling backwards and forwards. I huffed. “He’ll be alright, BB. I’m not the Medical Director for no reason.”

BB-8 beeped anxiously anyways.

“He’ll be fine, BB,” I paused, standing up, “How about I move this chair closer to his bed, and you can sit yourself in it, yeah?”

BB-8 paused his rolling and beeped at me once more.

“Okay, I’ll put you in the chair and you can watch him, alright?” I carefully moved the chair closer to the Commander’s bedside before turning to the droid. “Make yourself light, alright buddy?”

BB-8 beeped indignantly as I hefted him into the chair.

“No need for unkind words, BB, I was just teasing,” I put my hands on my hips and took a step back towards the door, “I’ll have one of the nurses set up a charging situation for you, okay? The Commander will be up by morning, and I’ll swing by to check on him then.”

BB-8 beeped once more as my hand reached the door handle.

“Fine, Poe will be up by morning, and I’ll swing by to check on both of you then. Better?”

The droid beeped a quiet affirmation and turned back to his master.

I huffed a laugh and gently pushed the door open, stepping out into the med-bay hall – and right into the General.

“General! I’m sorry, I didn’t, uh, see you there.”

She laughed. “I wouldn’t have expected you to. How’s the Commander?”

“He’s alright, a little worse for the wear, but he should be back to the daily grind in two or so weeks. He’s got a pretty, uh, dedicated little droid in there.”

“That he does. Two weeks, though? I think that might kill him.”

I laughed. “It shouldn’t. A little rest never hurt anybody.”

“You’d think that with all the missions I’ve sent him on, he’d want some rest, but…” the General shrugged, “May I?” She gestured to the door.

“Of course, just make sure you don’t mess with his little guardian spirit’s perch. Took some negotiating to make BB happy.”

The General laughed once more. “I’ll keep that in mind.” And with that, she was through the door.

I sighed. Back to paperwork and holofiles I go.

The next morning, I arrived in the med-bay a little earlier than I usually would to check on my latest patient and his steadfast droid. I waved to the nurses still on their shifts, turning to the one closest to me, “Is the Commander up yet?”

“Yes, ma’am. Woke up about an hour ago – his vitals are fine. He should be ready for his next painkiller dose and bandage change right now, if you’d like me to get everything ready for that.”

“Yes, that would be very helpful. Thank you, Shana!” I said as I reached Dameron’s door and pushed on the handle. She huffed a laugh and disappeared into the supply room. I stuck my head in the door before I came in, waving to BB-8 as he trilled from his perch in the guest’s chair.

“Hello, BB… did you have a good night?”

The droid beeped happily, rolling slightly in his chair.

I laughed, carefully closing the door and approaching the bed where the Commander laid, eyes closed.

“You don’t have a resting heart-beat, Commander, so there’s no need to fake sleep on my account.”

The Commander sighed, opening his eyes to look at me. “It was worth a try.”

I smiled, “Well, I’ll praise the effort then.”

It was then that Shana arrived in the room with the supplies I needed. “Will you need any help, Director?”

“Nah, I think I will be alright, Shana. Thank you for asking though,” I paused, turning to her, “Why don’t you head back to your room early?”

“Oh, no, I’ve only got an hour left, might as well stay.”

“I insist,” I made a shooing motion with my hands, “Doctor’s orders.”

She chuckled, nodding reluctantly and leaving the room, “I’ll just be going then, have a good day, Director.”

“Likewise, Shana.” I turned back to my patient, noting his slightly bewildered look.

“What’s the look for, Commander?”

“Oh, it’s nothing… I guess I’m just surprised you let her off early.”

I nodded, pulling on my gloves. “I do that sometimes… I consider everyone who works in medical to be a friend, so I treat them as such.”

“Reminds me of the fleet, but we treat each other more like family.” The pilot responded.

“Mm-hmm.” I reached over to the IV line, adjusting a few switches to give the Commander his next painkiller dose. I turned to him, “I’m going to need you to push your shirt up a bit so I can check your wound, is that alight?”

Dameron grinned, doing as I said, “Totally fine, Doc.”

I reached forward, pulling up the bandages and bacta patches from the day before and tossing them in the compactor bin.

“This might sting a bit, so apologies ahead of time, Commander.” I gently applied some ointment to the wound, grimacing as the Commander winced. Slowly, I applied the bacta patches and bandages, gently tapping above the wound when I finished, “All better.”

The Commander chuckled, and then winced again, “Thanks.”

“Yeah, I might avoid laughing for a bit, with your wound placement and all.”

“So I’ve discovered.”

I looked up at BB-8 as I pulled off my gloves and cleaned everything up, “Will you need help getting down from there?”

He beeped a quiet affirmative, and I walked to the side of the bed the chair was on, picking him up and putting him on the ground with a grunt.

“So, you’re the one who put him up there?” Dameron asked, intrigued.

I laughed, “Yeah – he was worried about you, so I figured he’d want a nice place to spend the night watching you.”

“Well, thank you, then.” Dameron said with a grin, and BB-8 chimed a little thank you as well.

Turning to look at them from the door, I smiled, “Not a problem, Commander. BB-8, just –”

“Call me Poe, please.”

“What?”

“Just call me Poe.” The Commander looked at me, slightly imploring.

“Alright then, Poe. BB-8, just let one of the staff know if you need something – same goes for you, Comma– Poe.” They both nodded, Dameron with a satisfied smirk on his face, and I stepped out of the door and into the hall.

“On second thought,” I stuck my head back in the room, “Call me Hera. Not any of that other stuff – and we’re even.”

“Hera. Right, okay, I can do that.”

I waved, and then stepped back into the hall, closing the door quietly behind me. I shouldn’t have liked how my name sounded when he said it – but I did.

#poe dameron fanfiction #poe dameron x reader #poe dameron x you #poe dameron #star wars fanfiction

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txladyj-blog · 5 years ago

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Chapter 4 - This Time Around

a Daryl Dixon x OFC collaboration written by @xmistressmistrustx

Rating: Explicit

Relationship: Daryl Dixon/Original Female Character

Tags: Friendship, Friends to Lovers, Awkwardness, Awkward Flirting, Awkward Crush, Fluff and Humor, Angst and Humor, Mild Smut, Strong Language, Eventual Sex, Eventual Romance, Slow Burn, Canon Divergence, Some Canon Scenes and Dialogue

Chapters 15/?

Before the turn, Jess had packed her car for her annual visit to the same Renaissance Faire she’d been attending with her friends for the last five years. It was a much-anticipated event for her and her collection of costumes had grown into an impressive variety of elaborate garments. Being indecisive about which ones to take with her was always an issue and so on this occasion, she’d crammed her car with as many clothes as possible, along with a few casual outfits that she kept in the trunk anyway due to many, spur of the moment road trips to see friends and visit conventions across the state. Her best friend, Ben had made fun of her for never being able to make a decision when it came to clothing and for always being prepared for anything. 'Just in case' was her favorite phrase and it was usually met with Ben replying with 'just in case of what, exactly?". Little did she know that the car journey to the Faire would be the last time the two of them would ever argue over what music to play in the car, what greasy food they would start the day with and where was the best place to park. It would be the last time she'd ever laugh at one of his cheesy jokes or tell him not to bother checking out any cute girls, because he was so forgetful he wasn't likely to remember he had a girlfriend if he ever managed to bag one. Two hours after the car door slammed and they began their final journey together, Jess had watched in utter horror as a Walker tore out his jugular and chomped on it like it was eating a burger.

Her interest in such activities and active participation in events that required outfit changes in meant she was lucky enough to not only have more than one change of clothing, but also a backpack big enough to hold her journal and a couple of books. Unlike some of the others at the camp, Jess had the luxury of being able to change her clothes every day and therefore, made the effort to help out with the laundry where she could. When Rick and some of the others returned from the city with bags full of clothing, the laundry duties increased and meant that Jess found herself with a job and a way of contributing to the group.

Her superhero and cult film T-shirts were both an entertaining talking point with Carl and a source of ridicule to the likes of Sarah and Jodie. While Daryl also enjoyed making fun of her for them, his lighthearted mockery only resulted in debates about which was the better character in the films they'd both seen and her crush on him intensifying to a dangerously consuming level. She blushed around him. Stared at him so much he continuously caught her and felt a slither of drool escaped her lips when she saw him emerge from the water one day, shirt soaked and stuck to his body. One of her eyebrows had shot up to the sky so fast she had little control over it. She held her breath and let herself indulge as he ruffled his hair with one hand, flicking drops of water everywhere. Jess could only liken it to a scene from some kind of 80's romance movie, where the unpopular, dorky girl falls for the ridiculously attractive bad boy that smokes too much.

Stood in front of him in a bright yellow Pulp Fiction T-shirt and her jeans, her face was expectant and waiting for an explanation, she squinted in the sun and propped a hand over her forehead. Heat beat down on her head, her scalp burning. She wished that she’d picked up a baseball cap when she’d left her apartment for the Faire that day.

“Alright, don’t freak out.” Daryl told her. “Wait here”

She sighed and tapped her foot while crossing her arms. Information about the days expedition was minimal. He was taking her to the woods and she wasn't to argue or he'd push her off of the RV. When he turned and disappeared into the woods, he left her alone around five feet from the tree line. After a few minutes, she began to slowly wander back and forth, stopping occasionally to crane her neck and check for movement in the dull light of the trees.

This better not be some kind of stitch up. She thought.

She knew it must have been at least fifteen minutes before the rustling of leaves and the crunching of twigs beneath boots caught her attention. Along with the snarling of a Walker. Her heart rate quickened. Instinctively, she took a couple of sizable steps back and frantically scanned the ground for something sharp with which to defend herself. A part of her was cross with Daryl for having left her here in danger of being seen by a hungry, walking corpse that would make a quick meal out of a slow, chubby girl with no means to defend herself.

I hope I taste like acid when it bites me.

Seeing nothing to use as a weapon on the ground, she looked back up to see Daryl bunding a Walker out of the woods. He had tied a belt around its neck which he used to keep it in line like some kind of macabre, oversized dog and was shoving it along in front of him. Both of its arms had been hacked off at the elbows and the bloody stumps waved about like two coagulated, beef patties.

Jess was rooted to the spot, paralyzed by fear and totally confused. Daryl grunted as he pushed the Walker against a tree and wrapped the remainder of the belt around the trunk, fastening the corpse to the tree. It bucked and gnashed its teeth at him as he stepped back, bloody drool seeping from its jaws and pooling at its feet.

Daryl beckoned her over with his hand “C’mon. S’alright.”

“Ha-have you lost your fucking mind?!” She gasped. “What are you going to do? Feed it a bone and teach it to sit?!”

“No, smartass.” He huffed. “I’m gonna teach ya how to kill one of these things.”

Her enlarged; terrified eyes stared at him in disbelief. “Why?” she asked.

She thought she saw him swallow hard before he locked eyes with her and took longer than she was expecting to answer her. The Walker’s noises now drowned out by her mind racing and the panic welling in her chest.

“Case I ain't around.” He replied quietly.

“Why would you not be around?”

“I dunno. I killed seven of these things in a day yesterday. Numbers are goin’ up. We’re either gonna have to move or we’re all gonna have to know how to fight. Ya gotta know how to do this, Jess. Ya ain’t safe if ya don’t.”

Is he saying he cares about me here?

Unsheathing his knife, he felt its weight in his hand for a moment before holding it out to her. She gingerly took hold of it, the heavy handle providing it with the majority of its weight. The blade was sharp and shiny. She often saw him sharpening it as an almost mindless task while sitting around the campfire.

“You right-handed?” He asked.

“Yes”

He moved behind her and it took all of her self-awareness not to flinch when she felt his fingers curl around her left wrist. He lifted it up and she slowly turned her head to see her pale flesh in his tanned grasp.

“Get closer” He rasped in her ear, encouraging her to step forwards by pulling on her wrist “use this hand on it’s forehead to steady it.”

Her breath caught in her throat when he took hold of her other wrist, sliding his hand up further to move her fingers into the correct position around the knife. The warmth from his torso hummed against her back.

“Raise ya hand up, good n’strong. Move closer.”

But Jess stilled. Her feet were rooted to the spot at the sight of the monstrosity before her. She wondered how Daryl had managed to hack off both of its arms and wrestle it out of the woods by himself. She shook her head and swallowed a deep breath.

“No” She squeaked “Please, I don’t want to go near that thing.”

With his hands still tightly gripped around her wrists, he leaned closer to the side of her face, both of them more than aware that as the weeks turned into months and as their friendship had grown, the sensation of their skin connecting had been unknown until now.

“Look at it’s arms.” He told her “It can’t grab ya. I made sure of that.”

And he had. Snapping the bones was easier than he'd anticipated and hacking through the flesh to dismember it's limbs was not unlike preparing an animal for food. So, he told himself it was just a kill from the hunt like all the others, except this one was larger and the odor it gave off was enough to make even the strongest of stomachs flip.

“I-I can’t.” She stammered, her hands beginning to shake. He could feel her bones trembling as he gently urged her forwards.

“Yeah, ya can.” He countered “S'alright. C’mon. Just try.”

Turning her head to the side, the first thing she thought was how close his face was to hers and how icy blue his eyes were.

"What if it gets loose and I can't kill it? Don't leave me with it" She pleaded.

"I got it if it gets loose. I ain’t goin' nowhere. I'm right here." He confirmed.

She neared the Walker, Daryl allowing her a little more freedom with each step like a parent urging their child to ride a bike without stabilizers. His hands loosened their grip and drifted down her forearms, before he broke away and she was standing inches from the bloody stumps of the waving arms attached to the Walker.

“Don’t overthink it, just do it.” He said from behind her.

She lunged forward, slamming her hand against the cold, dampened forehead and smacked it against the tree. She didn't know why, but she expected it's skin to be warm somehow, like regular people that are wandering around, going about their day. But this man was dead, so it stood to reason he'd be cold to the touch. She lifted her other hand and paused.

“The eye, it’s the easiest. As hard as ya can.” He instructed.

She fought against the Walkers attempts to break free, the blood from it’s missing arms now smearing across her T-shirt. Her stomach churned at the putrid and rotting smell that grew stronger with each thrash of its head. She screwed up her face and with all her might, drove the blade into the weeping, white eye of the Walker. The wet sound of the blade against its skull meant bile began to rise in her stomach and an involuntary cry left her throat. The scrape of metal on bone, but loose, like sand along the sharp edge of the knife. She slumped forwards and tried to yank the knife from the bloodied hole in the Walkers face but it stuck fast. She fought with it, twisting it and tugging on the handle, until Daryl’s hand closed over hers once more and he pulled on the weapon with brute force, freeing it and catching Jess when she stumbled backwards.

He took the knife from between her fingers and noticed his other hand had ended up around her waist, stopping her from falling. He ripped it away in seconds and stepped back, dropping his gaze. Jess turned and tried to steady her breathing as she watched his ears turn pink and his shoulders sag.

“I did it” She whispered.

If anything, it was a desperate attempt to draw attention away from the fact that he had just touched her somewhere other than her hands and that was something she’d only dared to imagine during nights scribbling in her diary in her tent or while drifting off to sleep. Even then, it was with some reluctance, as if somehow everyone around her could hear her thoughts and see her imaginings like they were displayed on a projector screen for all to see. He had just touched her and yes, it was accidental, but it was a moment she knew would guide her through many more nights alone with her thoughts. A moment that was as funny as it was tragic and would most likely never happen again.

“Yeah, ya did it. Good job.” He mumbled. She stood immobile while he cleaned the blade with a red rag from his back pocket and offered it to her once more, all the while avoiding having to look at her.

“Why are you giving that back to me?” She wanted to know.

“Take it. It’s yours.” He said flicking the handle up in front of her and urging her to take it.

“No, it’s yours” She corrected, smiling at his now vividly apparent awkwardness.

“I got a another” He told her, tapping at another knife holster on the other side of his belt. “Shouldn’t walk around these days without a knife. Take it.”

“I can’t, it’s-”

“-Take the goddamn knife, Jess.” He interrupted.

She smiled at him again, pleased to see that he couldn’t seem to look away once his eyes met hers. She delicately slipped the knife from his hand and resisted the urge to jump on him and hug him for believing in her and pushing her out of her comfort zone. It was working, she was learning, getting better at surviving in the new world and she had him to thank for that. Aware that hugging him would go down like a lead balloon, she simply smiled at him instead.

“Follow me” He grunted before setting off into the trees with intent.

“What? Where are we going?!” She called after him

"Ya just levelled up.” He barked back at her. “Now ya gonna complete level two.”

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

The next few days consisted of Daryl teaching Jess everything he’d picked up in the short while since the world had lost its footing and plummeted into what now resembled one of the levels of hell. He also continued to pass on his already established and extensive knowledge of hunting and tracking. It was not only productive but unequivocally enjoyable to Jess to be able to spend so much time with him. She knew not to question his desire to train her, accepting it simply as a mutually beneficial act somehow. Although quite what he got out of it still remained a mystery to her.

He’d even taught her to fish, a skill which wasn’t altogether alien to her due to many family vacations at the lake house and boat trips with her brother. But she feigned ignorance and politely listened when he showed her how to reel fish in and swallowed the urge to vomit when he made her fillet them, a task she had always left to the men in her family.

It was no more than a few lingering smiles, one or two occasions when she would catch him watching her perform mundane tasks like writing in her diary or sewing up a hole in her jacket, but it was there. The feeling of something a little more than friendship that Daryl just couldn’t seem to fathom. He had given his all, put everything he had into teaching her to survive and if someone were to ask him why, he wasn’t sure he had an answer. He hadn’t taught anyone else a single thing, hadn’t felt the sheer panic at the thought of anyone but her being bitten by a walker. With Jess, it was different. What he did know, was that when other people looked at him, they saw nothing but a damaged, unpredictable criminal that wasn’t to be trusted. But when Jess looked at him, when Jess spoke to him, she really saw him. He was a person, another person just like she was. Right from the start, she hadn’t given up and persevered with a most unlikely friendship.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

On top of the RV for what had become their habitual time to unwind at the end of every day, Jess hummed to herself as she propped her legs up on Dales cooler. Her book rested on her lap and she batted away the smoke from Daryl’s cigarette beside her. The cool night air carried it up into the atmosphere but the smell still hung heavy around her.

“Those things will kill you y’know.” She remarked with a scrunched-up face.

“You gonna miss me?” He quipped, deliberately expelling a large plume of smoke at her. She waved her hand dramatically and fake coughed.

“No. I’ll get some peace and quiet.” She joked with a light chuckle.

Thinking the conversation to be over, Jess opened her book and began to read. It wasn't unusual for Daryl to just cease speaking when he'd had enough or when he felt like whatever had been said didn't warrant a response. Jess pushed the end of her pen between her lips and bit down on the lid, leaving the end peppered with small, teeth marks.

“What was that s’posed to mean?” Daryl eventually asked with a tone akin to mild irritation. She closed the book and looked quizzically at him.

“I just mean you making me run around in the woods killing things.” She grinned “It ruined my Pulp Fiction T-shirt. I’m going to have to beat the holy hell out of it against a rock to get the bloodstains out.”

His eyes were narrowed at her, and worry that she’d offended him prodded at the back of her mind.

He’s touchy tonight. She thought.

“I don’t make ya do nothin’. S’for ya own good.” He grumbled.

“I’m just playing.” She tried. But his jaw was clenched and he looked away, taking a forceful drag on his cigarette and exhaling it in the opposite direction to her this time. Instead of stoking the fire that apparently had appeared from nowhere, she lowered her eyes back to her book and tried to ignore the now taut atmosphere between them.

Daryl rarely lost his temper with her, even out in the woods after hours of training, coated in sweat and blood and gore, repeating the same things over again, he never got angry when she couldn’t get it right. He never usually took her jokes the wrong way either which made their current situation both baffling and extremely awkward.

Why am I being such a jerk to her? He thought.

But he didn’t know the answer. All he knew was that the churning ball of anxiety in the pit of his stomach was for a reason and it was always at its worst when he was sitting quietly beside her, watching her be nothing else but herself. It was frustrating and enraging and entirely mystifying to him.

“It’s only you.” He muttered. Him facing away from her meant that she only just caught the words. Far from wanting to jump to conclusions that would only land her in an awkward and uneasy mess., she needed more information.

“What?” She questioned, closing the pages of her book once more.

“That I teach stuff.” He added.

“I know” She said softly. “I’m grateful for everything you do for me. I don’t know why you do it, but I know it’s only me.”

He nodded at her statement but still didn’t turn to see her, opting to carry on staring out into the darkness and watching the smoke from his roll up dissipate into the blackness.

“Want ya to be safe.” He uttered.

Jess’s heart lurched and her face broke out into a strong smile that was just too stubborn to shove away. Biting her bottom lip, she gently nudged his upper arm with her hand, thinking it a shame he’d put a leather jacket on and scuppered her chances to cop a feel of the biceps she so admired on him. Feeling braver than ever, in part due to the confidence that Daryl had instilled in her with his belief in her abilities, she took a risk.

“That you saying you care about me?” She jested.

Not turning to her straight away, she saw his body jolt when an amused exhalation followed a small head shake and it took all of her self-control not to blurt out what she really wanted to say.

I think you care about me and I care about you too. I have such a huge crush on you. You are the most interesting and amazing person I have ever met.

The look on his face when he gradually worked his line of vision around to her took her by surprise. Chewing on his lower lip, she could see him hiding a smile, one that didn’t need hiding because it was in his eyes.

“Maybe a little.” He told her.

“Wow” She laughed loudly “A little, huh? Lucky me!”

Oh lord. What the hell was that, Jess?! ‘Lucky me!’ I’m such a dork.

Footsteps below silenced them both and Daryl leaned to his left, catching a glimpse of a figure wandering past the RV. When the sound of whistling danced through the air, Daryl realized who it was.

“It’s just Merle.” He dismissed. Jess nudged her head up in acknowledgement and re-opened her book, feeling like the moment had passed to delve even deeper into what appeared to be Daryl caring about something other than running out of smokes and hunting deer. Her eyes scanned the words on the page, but none of them actually registered as her mind raced with thoughts of confessing her feelings. With no intentions to actually do so, all she had was her vivid imagination and the ability to simply dream.

He cares about me.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Two nights later and by the flickering glow of the fire, Jodie rummaged through her laundry at the opening of her tent, carefully folding her minimal wardrobe, enough to fit inside a backpack should they have to pack up and leave. Sarah, who sat beside her was painting her nails. A necessity of the apocalypse, of course. Along with applying her eyebrows in a pocket mirror and curling her lip in disgust at the thought of having to go to the makeshift bathroom in the woods. A far from pleasant necessity that everyone else had come to accept, as was the way of the world now. They were all thankful to be alive, Sarah and Jodie were just happy to have their matching, Gucci belts still intact.

Jess was busy on the other side of the fire, sharing a few overcooked squirrel strips with Carl. They were so dry and tough that it was more like eating jerky than anything else. Carl winced and chewed relentlessly on a piece of meat that looked like a leather shoe while Jess snorted with laughter as she pointed at him and covered her own mouth which was also full of food.

Daryl was at her other side, the two of them now barely apart for more than half a day and just about able to ignore the jibes and attempts at humor at their expense from Jodie and Sarah. Daryl’s threat seemed to have worked to an extent, but whispers and mockery could still be heard if they listened hard enough. By now, the entire camp had accepted that Jess and Daryl had become friends and that Jess was the only person that Daryl would tolerate being around for so long. Likewise, he was the only one that didn’t drain her energy after more than an hour with incessant chit chat.

Merle hadn’t expressed an opinion but Daryl knew it wouldn’t be long before he made his feelings known and was waiting for the day when he would have to bite his tongue and remember that Merle was not the smarter one of the two of them. From a distance he watched, sneering and tutting as if Jess’s mere presence was at a detriment to his existence and the downfall of his plan to rob the camp was somehow her fault. Jess was none the wiser, blissful in her ignorance and Daryl had no plans to change that.

“Oh. My. God!” Jodie’s voice rang through the camp and everyone at the fire stopped what they were doing to look up. “There’s a frickin’ tent…in my tent! Look at the size of that!”

Daryl was the first to register what was happening and immediately snapped his head around to see Jess, leaning on her elbow to see past Carol, who was opposite her. It was like slow motion had kicked in when her eyes widened and the color drained from her cheeks.

Her body suddenly flushed with heat from embarrassment and fury and her surroundings increased in volume, the shrill laughter from the two girls holding her underwear a loft began to echo through her ears. The sound was deafening and her eyes glazed over, her vision glassy. Tears dripped down her cheeks.

“Sorry, Jess. I guess this wasn’t how you imagined Daryl seeing your panties for the first time.” Sarah announced.

With an inferno burning in her cheeks, she sprang up from the floor, stomped across the clearing, snatched the garment from Jodie’s hand and raced off into her tent. Daryl sat frozen for a moment, watching both girls fall about in hysterics before he also got up and went off into the woods with his crossbow. A backdrop of people expressing their disgust did nothing to quell the anger he felt as he departed. He wanted to go to her, to tell her it was alright and that it was just two dumb girls that didn’t mean anything. But his legs took him in the opposite direction so he could take the time to retreat into himself and try to push past his own humiliation.

Through tears and sobs in her tent, Jess took out her pen and journal and started to pour her feelings onto the page. Her teardrops tainting the ink.

'I don’t know if I can stand this anymore. Daryl is literally the only good thing about being at this camp. I have these urges to just leave. But I am reluctant to leave him. We’ve become friends, good friends and I think we actually care about each other. I made progress with someone, I spoke to a person I wouldn’t normally have bothered with and something amazing happened. But now those assholes have stamped on it all. He’s never going to want to be around me when I’m such a glaring target for those two bitches. Carol once told me that they’re just jealous of me. But I don’t have a single thing for anyone to be jealous of.'

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Tracking, hunting and fighting lessons had become less social and more strictly on a need to learn basis between Jess and Daryl. He had less and less to say as the days crawled on after the humiliating scene at the campfire. Her efforts to engage him in conversation feel on disinterested ears and with each new day, Jess felt their friendship slipping further and further away. She still sat with him on the RV every night, her stubborn streak refusing to let her give in. The only sounds came from her turning a page or him lighting a cigarette. He’d still look over at her, she registered it every single time and she so wanted to look right back at him, to smile at him and crack a joke, but she knew any attempts to fix things would be futile.

She wasn’t sure what she was guilty of exactly, except being the reason Daryl was mentioned during the horrendous ordeal of the panty announcement. Now, it was apparent to Jess that there was every possibility of Daryl wanting to distance himself from her to avoid being targeted again.

More and more Walkers appeared every day and the Group made the collective decision to start gathering supplies in order to move on and find another safe haven. But with food, medicine and weapons running low, a supply run into the city was arranged and planned which Merle very quickly attached himself to due to the prospect of stocking up on something he deemed to be a priority; Whiskey. Daryl initially agreed to go along, but Jess could tell it was simply because he couldn’t tolerate his brother’s complaining about his lack of interest.

On the way back from a hunting lesson, Jess carried a large hog which she was immensely proud of hunting by herself and with the aid of Daryl’s crossbow. Once the animal had been taken down, he’d offered a simple appreciation of her skill that could have been missed if Jess wasn’t paying attention

“Good job” He’d muttered.

“Gee, thanks.” She replied with a roll of her eyes before she surged through the bushes and claimed her prize

Now, she was getting used to being out in the heat, creeping about in the woods and had even killed three Walkers without Daryl having to step in. As she trudged through the thick, hot air towards the camp with the hog around her shoulders, she sighed to herself in frustration and stopped walking, flicking her head and freeing a few strands of hair that were obscuring her view. Daryl walked on and it wasn’t until he was a good ten feet away that he noticed she wasn’t beside him anymore.

“Why ya stopped?” He enquired.

Jess looked down at her feet. Once brand-new sneakers that had seen better days. Tatty and stained beyond repair. She kicked about in the mud and tapped a finger on the hoof of the hog she held onto her back.

“Are you angry at me for something?” She said quietly.

“Say what?” He questioned, bringing a hand up to his ear to signal that she wasn’t speaking loud enough.

“I said, are you angry at me for something?” She repeated, much louder this time.

Jess expected him to look confused at least, but his expression was deadpan, almost blank and with not a single scrap of emotion.

“No.”

“Then why are you being off with me?” she demanded.

He shrugged his shoulders and wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his wrist.

“I ain’t.”

“Yes, you are. You barely talk to me anymore. We come out here and wander around like a couple of strangers. It’s not like it was.” She explained. It had taken a lot of courage for her to address the situation. Daryl wasn’t known for having a gentle nature and she was not unfamiliar with how hostile he could be. But she missed the way things were before, when they would talk into the night, make fun of each other while training in the woods or simply sit in each other’s comfortable company.

“I ain’t being off. I am off. This is how I am.” He snapped, turning around and walking off. “Get over it.” She heard him grumble under his breath.

In her chest, she wrestled with anger and sadness. The one person she had a connection with was now further from her than he’d ever been. As he vanished from her sightline, it occurred to her that it was physically as well as emotionally.

When she deposited the hog at the food station, she caught sight of Daryl sat on a rickety, plastic chair outside the RV with a smoke between his lips and his knife clamped in his hand. He was buckled forwards, carving something into the dirt with the pointed end.

“Everybody! Can I have your attention please?” Sarah’s voice sounded out through the camp and people stopped their tasks and chatter in anticipation of some kind of announcement. Beside Sarah, who was stood on top of the RV, Was Jodie. The sleeve of her bright pink sweater was pulled up over her hand and she chewed excitedly on the fabric while she waited for her friend to speak.

Jess’s veins stung with dread when she clocked what Sarah was holding in her hand. A leather-bound journal.

I left it on the RV last night. Shit. Oh no. No, no, no, no! Please no!

“I found this awesome book up here! It really is gripping stuff! So I thought y’all would like to hear an excerpt!”

She opened the journal and cleared her throat, holding it out in dramatic fashion in front of her.

“Sarah.” Jess blurted out. The blonde girls vicious glare swung over to Jess. “Please. Don’t do this. Please.”

Without a single glimmer of apprehension, Sarah’s eyes moved back to the page and she began to read aloud.

“To everyone else he just seems to be this angry, unpredictable redneck. But to me he’s different. Daryl is an enigma. He has a personality that he tries to keep hidden but I see it and it’s so interesting.”

As she spoke, the mocking tone to her voice added to what was already a mortifying and agonizing moment for Jess, who was stood, red faced and wishing the ground would open up and she would fall into an abyss, away from Sarah, away from Daryl, away from all of them.

Daryl was totally still, his Jaw taut and the veins in his neck popping with rage. He wasn’t even watching Sarah. Instead, his eyes were fixed on nothing in particular at floor level. Sarah continued and with every single word, the fire inside Daryl was stoked and a piece of Jess fell away to nothing.

“He’s snappy and rude at the moment but I still really like him. But alas, I shall carry on admiring him inside my own head and outwardly being his friend. Friend zoned without ever having to have that awkward conversation, as usual. There’s no point in being any other way, anyway. He probably thinks I’m weird and a total loser and doesn’t even see me as a friend. Just the clingy nerd that follows him around. That’s me. The cling on.”

The cackles of Sarah and Jodie were soon stopped by Dale climbing the ladder, snatching the book from Sarah’s hand and scolding them both for being so cruel and childish. Below, Lori and Carol looked on, both shaking their heads in disgust as Andrea shouted up to them, asking how they would feel if the same were done to them. Everyone was there. Rick, Carl, T-Dog, Glenn. They all heard it as clear as day and could clearly see the damage done to Jess.

But that’s just it, isn’t it? It’s never done to them. They’re never made to endure the torment that people like me have to live with. Some people are the lucky ones. Me? I’m not.

As if a bass guitar was droning in her head, her despair grew so much, she could no longer hear what was going on around her. Her vision was a blurry haze and her feet felt like two cement blocks. But she knew she had to move. Remove herself from the situation. Someone was laughing. Merle. Chuckling loudly and mentioning Daryl’s name. She couldn’t see, but then there was yelling, swearing. Daryl’s voice.

“SHUT THE FUCK UP, MERLE!”

Picking up the dead weights of her legs, she ran to the slope. Down to the water's edge. To the calm and quiet where she sat in the dirt and sobbed so hard her throat and chest were raw and her tears sliced down her skin like razors.

Chapter 5

#daryl fanfiction #daryl x oc #the walking dead daryl #daryl dixon #twd fanfiction

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dmitri-smerdyakov · 5 years ago

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So it’s been a while, huh?

I don’t know how many people are actually still following this blog/are interested in it but...hi again! I already wrote a post sort of explaining where I disappeared to and why (long story short: it was tumblr staff’s fault) but I also want to talk to you guys properly and update you all on what’s been going on since.

I don’t want to abandon this blog but I have another blog that I’m using now -> it’s @alwaysahiccupandastrid. It’s not as Beasts oriented as this one was, I’m afraid, but still feel free to follow it and chat to me! It’s much like this blog was when I used it in that I don’t really post exclusively for one fandom, it’s just a mix of whatever I like!

Anyway, updating! I already told you guys that I graduated university in July, finished my degree...that was stressful! A lot went down at university but it sorted itself out in the end and I survived! Our final assessment was at the end of May, and we performed a show that we created four times, three nights and one matinee. I’m very proud of what we achieved all things considered! But yes...I am no longer a university student!

What else has changed?

I no longer work for the cinema anymore - I quit a few weeks ago after getting a job at a fancy hotel that was supposedly better...I quit the day after my first shift because I had a “me too” experience with another employee...without too much detail, he touched and started kissing me, and I left. I struggled for a couple of weeks trying urgently to get a new job, and I’m now working for Superdrug! My first shift was Wednesday afternoon/evening and I’m excited to start properly! It’s not permanent: I’m also hoping to hear back from Nikon soon about an admin position that’s closer to home and pays extremely well!

I no longer see that therapist who likes Harry Potter - I think I talked a little bit on here about my counsellor who was also a Harry Potter fan and who I liked? Yeah...turns out not so much? I stopped going to her because she a) screamed at me for waiting in the waiting room until my bus was due to arrive down the road and b) she got pissed because I couldn’t do a few certain weeks due to show rehearsals. I’m honestly all the better for it frankly.

More tattoos! - Okay so it’s not a super important thing but it’s a change so...! I think when I was last on his blog I had 3 tattoos - I now have 8! So in addition to the wand, the “worrying means you suffer twice”, and the Deathly Hallows symbol, I now have a tattoo of Leta’s flower from the Lestrange family tree (with her name and the words “beautiful. Separate.”; a tiny tattoo of Harry’s scar/glasses; a Night Fury/Toothless tattoo with the words “heart of a chief” and “soul of a dragon”; the Chief symbol from HTTYD 2; and the words “Night Fury” in Viking runes.

My hair?! - Again, not important but hey! Let’s celebrate! My hair finally grew back and is now blonde! It’s not too long, just about to my shoulders, and my roots are dark blonde whilst the bottom is more bright blonde from dying it in March. It’s silly but hooray!

I met Kevin Guthrie in March! - I met Mr Abernathy himself at Comic Con in London and he was LOVELY. He was such a wonderful man, so cheerful and amazing with the fans. I had some pretty interesting conversations with him about Fantastic Beasts and whether he’ll be in the next one...we shall see! He also told us that Poppy Corby-Tuech (Vinda Rosier) is “all about the cosplay”! And ofc I got some photos with him :)

I’m now 21 - my birthday was obviously in January and I’m old(er) 😂😭 I didn’t do anything too special, just saw CoG with the family and then a few days later went to the WB Studio Tour again (which was amazing because my sister has a friend who works there and was showing us props lots of people won’t ever see!)

Mental Health crap - Obviously I’m not “cured” or anything. I’m still on Sertraline for my depression (haven’t taken the anxiety one for a while but that is a whole other kettle of fish!) and I still have problems but I’m not as low as I have been these past few years on this blog. I’m proud to say that I have been self-harm free since about March or April (it’s hard to remember since the months blur together), and I’m genuinely all the better for it! Part of it is because I didn’t want to damage my tattoos on my arms but it’s also because I’ve managed to resist the urge as well!

^ Having said that, I’m on the waiting list to see a doctor/specialist because my GP said there was a possibility I could have autism/Aspergers/be on the spectrum. It’s a LONG waiting list in the UK so it could be a while until I see a specialist, but there’s that. It’s not a bad thing necessarily since it might be a step closer to making sure I get the exact treatment/help I need.

Fandom junk - I already mentioned in my earlier posts that since late February/early March, I’ve gotten REALLY into How To Train Your Dragon. It’s now my main fandom, in fact, which is sad because the last film has come out and there’s just a half an hour Christmas special left to be released this winter 😭 but HTTYD has had such an impact on my life and my mental state, like it has genuinely made me so much happier and (in my opinion) a better person. I still love Fantastic Beasts and Harry Potter (I even went to King’s Cross at the beginning of the month for Back to Hogwarts Day!) but it’s not my main fandom right now; I had to take a breather from Beasts and the Beasts fandom because it’s really not a great place to be at times. But I’m still into it and I’m waiting for the third film to come out in 2021!

Other random/rather unimportant stuff:

My bed is now overrun with Build a Bear dragons (and the odd baby Niffler)

My sister turned 18 and I’m so...old? I feel so old now omg

I’ve been trying to help the environment by taking little steps like going out litter picking (both on my own and with my dad) whenever I can, and I’ve been using the Ecosia search app as much as possible (for every 45 searches, they’ll plant a new tree!)

I went to Disneyland Paris again in June and it was a lot of fun, I met Peter/Wendy/Alice/Mad Hatter again, there was a false alarm because some twat left their bag at the meet and greet so they had to get the sniffer dog and everything, and I also met Donald Duck, Stitch, Tiana/Naveen AND Rapunzel (Rapunzel is my sister’s absolute favourite, so I’m happy she got to meet her!)

This may be super lame but I got so happy because I got noticed on Twitter several times by Jay Baruchel (the guy who plays Hiccup in How To Train Your Dragon - he’s so awesome and loves the character btw), his fiancée who’s a model keeps liking some of my posts on Instagram, and Cressida Cowell, who wrote the original How To Train Your Dragon books (which are vastly different to the movies but omg they’re so amazing?!), liked a tweet I sent her about my Toothless tattoo and she loved it?! I’m having a good year celebrity/famous people wise for some reason?! 😂❤️

I dont know if my blog was still in use when this happened but I’ll mention it anyway... I SAW EZRA AGAIN IN DECEMBER!! I went to watch Sons of an Illustrious Father play in London and it was GLORIOUS. Ezra Miller is GLORIOUS.

(I won’t post pictures of all the stuff here but... soon maybe?)

So that’s all I can think of...it’s been so long since I used this blog and I felt bad just abandoning it, so here we are.

I don’t know how much I’ll still use this blog, but as I said, I definitely don’t want to just abandon it. At the moment, I’m logged into this account on my iPod and onto my account on my phone, and I think I’ll keep it that way. I don’t know how much posting I’ll do here but I’ll still be around, and I’ll try to see if I can keep this blog alive alongside my current one, if people want me to!

I hope you guys are doing well, and I’m glad to have this blog back. Even if you follow my new blog and have been for the last few months, it’s still awesome to be talking to guys again on this account!

If you guys want to chat or say anything, feel free! Like I said, if people still want me to be active on here then just let me know and I’ll do my best! ☺️

#personal #long post #im on mobile so sorry i couldnt do a read more 😣#fandom

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