#and i still stay caught up on new songs for most branches

[elisedonut]

saw your makio uzuki pfp scrolling through the percy tag and it jumpscared me so bad (in a good way!) i had to check. pls keep up the percyposting i literally onlh care abt one (1) hp character nowadays and it’s him. makio roll 4eva and eva

!!!Hello!!!

jvhfdgkd

You know? Fair I think i would be jumpscared too if i suddenly saw an Imas pfp in a harry potter tag fjhsdf

Makio is my SideM boy i drank maple syrup for him back when he got the Canada song

I love Cafe Parade very much Well i love almost all the SideM boys but Cafe Parade is special and Makio is specialx2 also i think he and Soichiro should kiss actually all of cafepara should kiss Poly!CafePara rights

And god mood i feel like any hp character i end up caring about is in someway secretly about what relation they have to Percy idk he's taken over my brain and rewired it a bit

I will keep being annoying about him i promise!

[otakuworks]

❛ 𝐒𝐄𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑. reborn au

feat. Zhongli x Reincarnated!GN!Reader | PART I | wc. 4.6K

Based on 'See You In My 19th Life' | overview. this webtoon follows the story of a woman who can somehow remember all her past lives.

sum. after a sweet hello, your lips never found its way to say the bittersweet goodbye. because you knew you would always find your way back to him even if he won't recognize you in your renewable lives.

note. some scenes are purposely inaccurate to the canon lore

main.mlist genshin.mlist | xiao ver.

You first met him as Morax, a little child dragon you grew up discreetly meeting at a very convenient time of your day, never knowing what's stored for the two of you.

He first met you as Y/N who resides at the countryside near Mt. Tianheng in hopes to find new things to discover across the vast lands of Teyvat. And he did. He found you.

Young Morax found you crouched under an oak tree, the wind flowing with your otherworldly voice, enrapturing him in blissful comfort.

Perched in the tree branch, he listens intently and let himself melt in your grace. It wasn't the first time he finds you warbling a melodic tune, and each time he comes back to hear more from you, it's always a different song and it wouldn't cease to amaze him how much ditty you know.

He lost count on how often he'd fall asleep with your voice lulling him and wakes up feeling empty as the epilogue of his day is always spent without your presence.

Sometimes he wonders if you know he has been watching you, and if you do, why aren't you approaching him? No matter, young Morax doesn't intend to befriend with you.

But then one day...

"Hello! You must be the boy who likes to hear me sing by the tree."

He was caught red handed, perhaps he became distracted that he didn't realize he's been shamelessly stalking you. He couldn't stop his curiosity to follow you in your way home.

Not only he's been spying on you, now he sounds like a stalker. But you didn't suspect, there wasn't anything to be suspicious of anyway.

"H-Huh? H-How did you know?" He gotta commend you for your keen senses. He's the Dragon between the two of you, which means he's supposed to be the one who has sharper senses.

"You must be good at anything but hiding. I have known you've been following me, but I never get to see you up close, you're really majestic looking, by the way." You chuckled as his poor attempt of masking his flushed face at your compliment.

"I don't mind your company, in fact, I want to be friends with you."

Friends. What a foreign concept for young Morax.

He has heard of that term, it's common among mortals, but he's not a mortal. Does this 'friend' term stretches to immortals like him as well? If so, then he has no reason to refuse.

Says the person who one minute ago thought of every alternative ways to stay out of your way.

He was skeptical at your optimism, most mortals would be astounded at his appearance and try to persuade him to spill whatever secrets he has, but as he got to know you better, he was a bit guilty to categorize you as one of them.

His horns and inhumane features? Young Morax found out you're only fascinated by his unique physical looks. And never doubted it.

"Cool! You have horns just like our boars, where did you get those? Can I touch them?"

"Did you just compare my horns to a pig? Pigs don't even have horns! How disgraceful!"

The sparkle in your eyes quickly died down as it came, and the young Morax feels tight in his chest just seeing your smile turns into a frown. You insulted his pride though!

You mumbled a meek apology but still kept your sheepish smile, a glimmer of hope that one day he'd let you do it.

The next days were spent by you sneaking out your house every midnight to meet up with the dragon, Morax. He's slightly skittish, oddly resembling him that of a cat, which is cute.

You probably shouldn't be calling a literal Dragon cute, legends depicted them as tyrannical creatures who seek treasures.

Ah! Classic children's story to scare the kids away at night, it did affect you in some way.

But you can't help it when he would eagerly look at you whenever he asks you to sing him a song.

You'd sit side by side under the tree, you have to admit he'd either falls asleep amidst your song or asks you for the lyrics so he can sing it to himself too.

You even dedicated a song that lets a certain flower bloom.

"Glaze Lily? What's that?" Young Morax asked with tilted head.

A smile outstretched your lips, "Beautiful, right? It transforms the memories of the land into its fragrance during florescence."

"Really?! Is that why you're always out in the dark?" You chuckled sheepishly, feigning ignorance, "Don't know what you're talking."

You got to know each other, held hands like innocent children, share what little knowledge your pea sized brain can, hug whenever one seeks comfort, eat under the glistening sun.

Morax is... a sensitive individual, albeit rough around the edges, but he's young and still learning, and you're unbelievably patient with his attitude— a quirk from you that he greatly appreciates.

From that, young Morax grew fond of you and it isn't one sided.

He flies by the same tree and gives you random things he finds magnificent, whether it could be a rock he found by the lake or a rare item that no one has ever discovered before.

Well, the legend wasn't lying about Dragons and treasure, for sure

You'd laugh at the strangest things he discovers but accepted them nonetheless. Every object he gives you is worth something.

This has been part of your routine for days, weeks, months, even years maybe. You don't know how much time has gone by whenever you're with him and you never bothered to count.

Before you know it, the two of you are almost in young adulthood, he grew up to be a fine man, much unlike you were expecting. Nothing changed from your friendship, until now.

You were taken by surprise when he suddenly blurted out one day

"I want to show you what I see from up there one day, Y/N."

He gazes at you much differently when he looks at you when you were younger. There's a glint of promise in his eyes that you can't pinpoint, it sent shivers all over your nerves.

"You can just fly me up there, Morax. I'm sure I'm not heavy." You muster a smile in an attempt to ease your quickening heartbeats.

He never gave a reply, he only stared at you so intensely that it feels like he's poking your deepest and innermost thoughts.

The way he stares at you never fails to summon the tickling butterflies in your stomach and the blood on your cheeks. You merely regarded that as your hormones, anyone would be flustered if someone they're close to stare at them like that.

You should've known better that nothing in your world stays permanent. The only thing you remember after that day was his twisted look of desperation to keep you alive and tear stained amber dyes trying to get the last image of you in his memories.

"N-No... Y/N please stay with me. D-Don't leave m-me just yet." It hurts you more than the numbing pain in your abdomen to see him broke down like a cornered prey. So helpless and vulnerable.

"I-I'll always be w-with you, Morax..."

So cruel, just when you've begun to realize the burgeoning feelings you have for the Dragon, fate took you away before you have the chance to confess.

Should you be selfish to confess your feelings to him? If you do, it seems like you'll be punishing him an endless torture ahead, and you would never wish Morax to suffer for eternity.

You only smiled and caressed his horns, even in your deathbed you're glad you died in the arms of the man you ever loved.

At the last moment, you heard the anguished wail erupts from his throat as he clutches your form closer, begging and crying for you to come back, to not leave him like this, that he needed you, that he loves you. His pleas fell on deaf ears, for you weren’t there to hear him anymore.

But it became clear to you that he reciprocated your love.

It came a shocking twist when you opened your eyes you can hear multiple cooing sounds from around you. Didn't I die in his arms? Where am I? Turns out, you were reborn. But not as Y/N anymore and you were given a surname.

Unfortunately, the Celestia isn't so forgiving. You were suffering from an unknown illness that took away your second life at such a young age.

You trained hard and learned martial arts in your third life as you were born from a family whose tradition is to produce well-trained warriors in the future.

Fourth to eight life came by like a blur, there were times when you get to lived as an innocent child only for it to be ripped away a few years later with your past memories resurfacing.

You stopped counting after it hits a dozen, born in different class, society and unnamed nation. There's no point of it.

All you want is to look for Morax, but will he remember you? Will he even recognize you as Y/N? You're no longer the kid he grew fond of. No, you're much different than before.

What about him? Decades have past, does he still know of your name? You could've been a fragment of his childhood that he dare not talk about with his new friends.

Will I make your life more difficult by trying to reconnect with you, Morax?

Those thoughts haunted you for nights, often occuring in your dreams.

But what can you do, you're so far away from Mt. Tianheng, you don't even know if the village you lived in still exists nor do you know if Morax still visits the tree you first met.

Even if you did meet him in your new life, you ought to stay as acquaintances.

Aiding him in the shadows and lessening his burdens within your power.

In your hundredth life, all of your training in your third life is proven useful at the moment. You're known as the infamous warrior with no name that took down the monsters around Teyvat, you were revered to the people in the Guili Assembly.

War is threatening to wage amongst Gods and mortals alike.

When it came, no one is safe in and out of the battlefield. To survive they must fight tooth and nail, paint the lands in sea of red and play the game of thrones.

It was gratuitously morbid, gruesome and unjust. A macabre of series of deaths surrounded your every wake, your hundredth life is the epitome of a living nightmare. Horrifyingly memorable.

You were at the sidelines, watching as the war unfold, keeping tabs on Morax's allies and eradicating whatever threat they face.

That's when you came across the stunning Goddess Guizhong, the Ruler of Clouds, Goddess of Dust. A very close companion of Morax whom he met at the Guili Assembly along with the others.

She's capable and quick-witted, a type of peculiar person Morax wouldn't hesitate to be friends with.

As of the moment, a claymore is alarmingly closing its gap towards her, ready to slice her open.

Then you heard him scream, a cry of a man who's about to lose everything he has gained of.

That cry sent flashbacks of his tear-stained cheeks. No, you don't want to see him like that again! You'd do anything to chase away that vulnerable image of Morax, he deserves happiness and love.

Your feet went autopilot and swept away the Goddess out of the way, severing your lower limbs in the process and instantly killing you. Your eyes opened and you have started your new life.

Was Morax relieve that Guizhong lived? Did he wonder why a stranger would save her? Did he ever ask who you were? Did he... recognize you at the very least?

Your new parents panicked as they tried to appease the crying infant in their arms. Unbeknownst to your pained heart.

You saw for a brief moment before your demise how Guizhong's plausible absence will affect him. He will mourn her death as much as he lamented yours. For decades or centuries, you know he has been scarred by your passing.

You don't want him to go through that again. It's a different pain you feel when you see him tearing up, you rather get minced by a claymore than to watch him break down.

He garnered the reputation of a tyrant— but you knew better that Morax grew up with compassionate heart, he appreciates anyone no matter how insignificant they think they are.

Which is why you hold yourself from meeting him. He may not remember you, but he will certainly get attached to you once you had your way to his heart.

And a dragon who can outlive you in any lives will only suffer more from your death.

You dedicated your lives in living peacefully, learning history and new things as humanity evolves.

You vow to never fall in love if it isn't Morax you'll spend your mortal life with.

Even if he has someone he can fall in love with.

"Have you heard about the land Lord Morax and Lady Guizhong are building in Mt. Tianheng?" Gossips are everywhere about the infamous partners who survived the Archon War, there's no mouth that has not utter their names, and you're no exception.

A grin spreads over your lips as you sip your tea with elegance, "I've heard, I haven't seen them in person but the rumors about them guaranteed they're ambitious people with good hearts."

This has been a hobby you never knew; praising Morax to elate people's opinion about him. It's your small contribution to his flourishing nation.

You want people to love and respect Morax dearly just as you loved him in your childhood.

You prayed to the new Archons for Morax to find someone he can love and lean on. Someone that can be his source of strength to keep living. Someone much better than leaving him with death.

Now that he found someone he can be with, your goal in your next lives is to protect Liyue's history.

From the names of ancient relics and objects, war waged by the Gods, Nations that were built underneath the once blood soaked lands, fallen heroes who are forgotten— you know all of them. You're openly willing to offer tutelage to the inquisitive.

You sighed at the thought, it certainly will be lonely in your part. Immortal gods can still die— a death in which they'd leave their memories behind and start anew. Morax will eventually cease to existence with lovable Nation and Guizhong to remember him.

And you? Countless past lives yet you never found true happiness, and none of them was worth to remember for anyone.

Part of you feels happy for Morax finally moving on from your death eons ago, but you're still human so you're susceptible to those horrible impulses of bitterness at a basic level.

But you don't want to be a person who looks at Guizhong with jaundiced eyes just because you couldn't have Morax, so you suck it up and move on the fact Morax is in love with another.

At least my sacrifice isn't a total waste.

"Aren't they? I've met Lady Guizhong, she's such a beautiful and soft spoken woman. She and the Lord of Geo are a perfect match. I wish the two of them eternal blessings."

A tug at your heart left an unpleasant feeling, your brain tried to reason that at least he's with someone that'll love him more than you did. That can appease your bitter aching heart a bit.

How ironic. You built a nation where you first met me.

And showed her what you can see up there like you promised me.

Is that how you honor my death, Morax?

"Wow! You sure do know many things, Y/N!" The floating emergency food expressed her awe in your display of knowledge and the traveller couldn't agree more with her, "She's right, you never cease to surprise us."

Their exclaims were followed by your enchanting laugh, "I'm glad I can be at your service, Honory Knight."

You were simply ethereal to look at, you maybe a mortal like the traveller but the Blondie thinks otherwise.

Paimon and her travelling buddy met you by the Starnach Cliff when they were attempting to subdue Dvalin. Jean and Diluc already know you're part of the Adventurer's Guild as you often visit Mondstadt from time to time.

They didn't expect you to join them in their excursion in Stormterror's Lair, it turns out you're a great addition to the team.

You befriended with the traveller after the whole Stormterror fiasco and catch up with Kaeya.

You don't stand out the most in the crowd, you can blend in with everyone and no one would acknowledge your existence. But the traveller can sense the weight of the wisdom you withhold.

It almost feels like you're one of the Seven...

"Is there something else I can help you with, Traveller?"

"Huh?! Oh... I— Uhh... You've been telling us stories and fun facts about Mondstadt. If you don't mind, can you tell us about Liyue?"

For an ephemeral moment, the traveller saw your facade crumbles and slowly morphed into a nostalgic expression.

"Hmm. I'll tell you a quick introduction. Liyue is built in Mt. Tianheng after the Lord of Geo attained one of seven seats, unlike the Anemo Archon who's known to not show himself, he descends down once a year to give blessings to the people of Liyue."

"Exactly how Venti told us, but more detailed."

"He sounds a lot more of a decent God than Tone-Deaf Bard."

Her statement elicited a quiet snicker from you, "I'll be off then, I'll see you around soon." Paimon's expression deflated, "You're not coming with us?"

You shake your head, "I'll visit you when I can, until then I hope for your safe travels."

You forced a smile and took a different path from the traveller, as their figures disappear in the horizon, you felt your smile slip up as the sun whisks past the mountains turning to dusk.

Solitude in the dark has been part of your daily routine, you come and go whenever you feel like it, not knowing when to return.

The excuse you told to Paimon isn't entirely a lie, you couldn't bring yourself to go in Liyue when there's active Fatui agents scattered around the vicinity.

Let's just say you're not in good terms with the Fatui. Who isn't?

Nevertheless, whatever curse you have continued to persist in your thousandth life. You roamed around Teyvat and tell stories that even historians don't know.

Repeated lives were lived by just you traversing in each corners of Teyvat that even Archons never knew it existed.

Along the way, you've come terms with your feelings and settled it down like a dormant volcano. Morax is your first love, you enjoyed reminiscing the memories you made with him, you keep those memories locked up in the depths of your mind and often recount them in particular leisure time of the day.

You still love him, and you'll always be by his side whenever he needs a helping hand, but enough is enough, you've suffered enough to your own idiocy and fears. It's time to move on.

Morax continued to strive forward because he has changed, for the better of course. If you want to continue living the next lives of yours then you need to change too.

You met new friends and companions that you begin to trust and have fun with, the traveller and the emergency food included. It wasn't lonely as you thought it would be.

Sometimes you wonder why do you have such curse bestowed upon you. Did the Celestia punish you for a crime? Did you touch a forbidden relic in your first life? Is there a way to get rid of it?

You stopped in your tracks and you gaze up in the sky.

Am I the only one with such curse?

Damn, you really need to get your priorities straight when you have so many unanswered questions.

Basking the remnants of the ever glowing star, you turn around to walk the path that leads you to the Land of Eternity.

A new journey awaits you as you skid through the mycelium path.

Rex Lapis has died.

What a year starting with the news of a tragic death of an Archon.

Fret not Liyue citizens, Rex Lapis assumed the form of Zhongli as a consultant in the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor. In all honesty, he thinks you would facepalm on how poorly delivered that news was.

Zhongli now blends in with the mortals, often strolling to acknowledge the accomplishments he has done as an Archon.

There were too many sacrifices he made just to achieve such title and godly powers. It's uncountable.

Whenever he strolls down the streets of Liyue, there's never a day that he is not reminded of the fact Mt. Tianheng is the very foundation of Liyue. It serves as a reminder that you are his pillar when intrusive thoughts start to linger in his mind.

Oftentimes, your face is only a blur in his memory, no matter what he does he can't seem to remember your face, but your name has been engraved on his mind for eons.

He misses hearing the sound of your name leaving his lips. He misses how ignorant you both were to the world's suffering. He misses your mesmerizing voice that lulls him to sleep.

Whoever fellow Archon listening to his complex thoughts must have heard him and granted his not-so-impossible wish.

"Hey look. Doesn't that sound like a story Y/N has told us before?" A child(e)— no, a floating fae pointed at the storyteller.

But Zhongli couldn't care less about whoever she was pointing. Did he hear her right? Was it just his ears deceiving him?

Y/N... that's your name.

That's the name he longed to hear again.

Why in the seven nations of Teyvat would they mention your name? Is it just a coincidence that someone has the same name as you? No, that couldn't be it.

Something flared inside him, it's been awhile since he felt this excitement, it's not far fetched when he became your friend.

With no recollection, he became friends with the traveller and the emergency food floating companion.

When he asks them about you, an array of hope filled his entire being and he swore his Dragon feature almost burst into existence

Y/N L/N, a member of the Adventurer's Guild, he's certain you've been in Liyue if you know about its rich culture.

But where are you? He wants to go find you. Hug you like when you were kids. Sing him songs. Bring you random things he can find. Speak the words that were left unspoken when you died.

So many questions brooding his mind; are you really Y/N? If so, were you reincarnated? Does that mean you don't remember him?

The elation he felt dropped. Right... he shouldn't be disappointed if it turns out his hunch is wrong. Even if you're not the Y/N he was expecting, he wants to know you as who you are and not compare the similarities and differences you have with the Y/N he knows.

"Oh yeah, Y/N mentioned they'll be visiting Liyue soon, Mr. Zhongli." The Traveler quipped, assessing the abrupt change of emotions on the consultant's face at the mention of your name.

Paimon and her travelling buddy can't help to wonder if you two are acquaintances, or perhaps something more than that. Zhongli seems to be expecting your arrival from now on.

"Is that so? Thank you for informing me, Traveler. I shall see to it that their stay will be comfortable." He smiled.

Stay in what? In the Funeral Parlor? The Traveler sweat drop while Paimon is tempted to point out that's Verr Goldet's job. Good thing their companion put a hand on her mouth and excuse themselves

There's no time to stall! He thought.

He's determined to check it himself, it can go two ways and Zhongli won't be petulant of the result.

Archons forbid if he ever finds you, because he will not let you go.

>> PART 2

©OTAKUWORKS | 2022

[angelwings-crossbowstrings]

Blood Ties Chapter 3

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Typical TWD violence and gore, vivid depictions of nightmares, vomiting

Moodboard by @dannyo000 💙

The first thing you heard was the song of the birds, signaling the sun was out and a new day had begun. You were slow to open your eyes, knowing that the world you would see was not the same as the one in your dreams. Those first few waking moments when the memories would melt into one another were the worst. It was a horror movie at the forefront of your brain and you had no choice but to watch. 

“I don’t wanna go!” You stomped your tiny feet, crossing your arms and giving the angriest pout you could possibly conjure. 

“I know, Peanut, but you have to go.” Your father cupped your chin, making a silly face as he gave your head a little shake. 

“No! No! I don’t wanna go, daddy, please!” Your hand was red, red, red. It was all red. You pressed on the wound but the red still came. 

“I know—but you have—have to go, Peanut.” Red on your father’s lips. His face. Red were your uncles. Your aunt. 

The bus pulled up as you clung to your father’s leg, scared but determined. 

“Don’t forget your backpack!”

The dead were spilling out of the trees, gnashing teeth greedy for living flesh. Red. You clung to your father. 

“Get your—your bag. Don’t forget your—bag.”

You grabbed your backpack, giggling when a strap got caught on the doorknob and most of the contents spilled. 

You grabbed your bag, screaming when a rotting hand tried to pull you forward by a strap and most of the contents spilled. 

You stood between the bus and your house, your father blowing you a kiss before he closed the door. 

You stood at the edge of the forest, your father blowing you a kiss as the dead engulfed him. 

“I love you, my peanut.”

“I love you, daddy.”

Your memories were red. 

“Daddy!” You bolted upright, nearly tumbling off the branch you had strapped yourself to for the night. You pulled your knees to your chest and cried into them, smothering your grief in the blood-stained denim. 

They were gone. 

Your family was gone. 

It took a while to get yourself somewhat under control. At least stable enough to climb down safely. Once your feet touched the ground, you simply stood there, letting the tree bear your weight. Your forehead was pressed against the bark so hard that it hurt. You wished that pain was the cause of your tears instead of the pain wrenching your heart in two. 

You needed to find water. You had been in that tree an entire day and night. Still, you should stay put. Daryl would meet you there today. Midday. You had to keep your wits about you. There were geeks in the forest now. And they had found you, found your family. 

And now your family was gone. 

You just needed to wait for Daryl.

You just needed to wait. 

Midday had come and gone without any sign of the archer. You had slowly sank until you were left sitting against the trunk of the tree, exhausted and dehydrated. Why? Why, out of all the times we’ve met, did you choose not to come this time?

You felt more alone than you had ever felt before. Your family was taken from you. Daryl abandoned you. But could you really blame him? You were just some chick in the woods. Just a hole to fuck. Your meetups were never meant to involve feelings. 

However, there was still that chance that you were carrying Daryl’s baby. Letting your head roll against the rough bark, you lazily tugged at your pack and unzipped it. The pregnancy tests had been lost in your struggle to get away. Fuck.

Did you even want a baby? Your own mother had abandoned you. You never thought of children of your own. You had your father to care for. You had to hunt and gather, even before the world ended. There was no time to think about such things. 

There was nothing to be done about it now, even if you decided you didn’t want it. 

Either way, baby or no baby, you had to move; get up and find water. You tried to stand, exhaustion pulling heavily at your limbs, enough to drag you right back down.  

“Get up.” You growled at yourself. “Get up.” Your voice was gravelly, your throat dry and painful. Everything hurt and you couldn’t understand why. You had tussles with a few of the undead but you weren’t injured. Dehydration was most likely the culprit but you couldn’t remedy that unless you got your sorry ass up and moved. 

“Shit.”

You opened your eyes at the sound of his voice, not even certain of when you had closed them in the first place. The blurry image of Daryl was running toward you, flickering in and out of focus like an old film. 

“Are ya bit?” He asked, crouched in front of you. You had enough presence of mind to shake your head. “S’all this your blood?”

Red. So much red. A sob broke free of your lips. “My daddy, he—” you trailed off, too exhausted to cry properly. 

“Goddamnit.” You heard him moving, felt the press of your pack against your hip disappear. “Alright. Guess you’re comin’ with me. Fuckin’ pain in my ass.” You were being moved, lifted. The redneck was muttering something, but you didn’t hear the words. The fog in your head was too dense, pressing outward against your skull until it stifled the last thread of consciousness you had been clinging to and you were thrown into darkness. 

When you awoke, it felt like you were being rocked. There was wind on your face and the smell of exhaust. You peeled open your dry, heavy eyes, the dashboard of a vehicle swimming into focus. Your stomach rolled, a wave of nausea washing over so intensely that you forced yourself to sit up, one hand on your stomach and the other covering your mouth. 

“Aw shit.” 

The truck swerved and the horn sounded while you fumbled with the door handle and gracelessly fell out to grass below, retching and heaving futilely. There was nothing in your stomach to offer but acid and bile, the rancid, burning liquid only serving to encourage your gag reflex. 

“Is she alright?”

“You still haven’t told us who she is. Where did you find her?”

“Shut up, man. I said she’s good. Ain’t no threat.”

“Well, she certainly doesn’t look like she could hurt anyone.”

“Everyone just give her some space!”

You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, looking up to seek out Daryl. You had heard his voice, knew he was near. He was the only person you could trust now that your family was gone. Well, you hoped you could trust him. He’d had plenty of chances to hurt you. He could have simply left you in the forest and no one would have known. Regardless, there were several other faces staring down at you, some concerned. Some wary. Some stoic and unreadable. 

A man was kneeling next to you, offering a bottle of water. “Here. Drink it slow.” You clumsily grabbed for it, reining in the strong urge to greedily gulp it down. With a careful tilt of the bottle you managed a sip, watching the man with a cautious gaze. He wore a police uniform. Behind him, Daryl was pacing, one arm crossed over his chest while he gnawed on the opposite thumb. 

“Ya done? We’re wastin’ time.” He snapped, stopping his nervous march to glare at you over the officer’s head. You narrowed your dry eyes at him and extended the bottle back to the other one. 

“You hold onto that. Seems like you might need it.” The man insisted, gently pushing the bottle back. “Can you at least tell me your name? Daryl hasn’t really been forthcoming with anything.”

You looked around at all the people awaiting your answer as if knowing your name was the cure to the outbreak; the answer to all their problems. 

“Y/N.” You took another sip of water. “My name is Y/N.”

[sserpente]

The Mistletoe Tradition

There was only one piece of decoration left in the box now—it was a dew-fresh mistletoe complete with a red ribbon. And you knew just where to put it.

With a smile, you danced over to Astarion and held the green plant above your head. The vampire spawn looked up, confused and flustered both at the same time.

“Wanna know what my favourite Yule tradition is?”

“I’m sure you’re about to tell me,” he purred.

“Whenever two souls are caught under the mistletoe, they have to kiss.”

A/N: I’m not sure if Christmas/Yule is a thing in Faerûn but if it wasn’t… I sure made it a thing now! Worked in some of his actual quotes for it to be even more relatable because we're all simps, lol. Also using Yule and Christmas interchangeably here because I can. Merry Christmas to you all! ♥

Words: 2197

Warnings: fluff

“Jingle Bells, jingle bells, jingle all the way…” Humming to yourself, you rummaged through your bag to take a closer look at the items you had snatched on your journey today. A bag full of peanuts, perfect to still your hunger on the road, a new dagger you had taken from a corpse, for your old one was falling apart at the hilt, a letter from an Iron Fist written to Lord Enver Gortash himself, and—perhaps most importantly—a little snow globe you had found in an abandoned cottage. It wasn’t much but it was better than nothing and had definitely been worth Lae’zel’s eye roll.

You were headed towards Baldur’s Gate and decided to rest in the Elfsong Tavern where Gale, Wyll, and Halsin were currently discussing the price of a room to stay in for the next couple of days. The air smelled like mulled wine and pine cones, and the tables in the tavern were decorated with tree branches, candles and sliced oranges and cinnamon sticks. The atmosphere was lovely—festive. You leaned against Astarion with your cheek against his chest, a sigh escaping your lips.

The pale elf was quite used to your—at least by his standards—unusual behaviour by now. Well… sort of. He’d expected more hostility toward him after the night he tried to bite you, that much you knew. Instead, you’d offered to help and… huh, secretly drooled all over him.

He certainly knew what he was doing and you hated that it worked. You didn’t want to turn into a giggling and blushing mess in his presence and yet… that was exactly what happened. Every. Single. Day. You tried to hide it as best as you could but at this point, you were pretty certain that he knew you were a hopeless case whenever he was near. And once you’d started sleeping with each other… you had become putty in his hands entirely, desperate for his touch even when it wasn’t sexual.

You offered him a cuddling dose daily now and you never let go until he did.

“All right, everyone. We’re settled. The owner has agreed to give us one of the suites upstairs. It has thirteen beds, its own washing area, and a fireplace. I don’t know about you but I am knackered,” Wyll announced as he cracked his bones.

“You go ahead without me. I’d like to take care of something real quick. I won’t be long,” you said, the idea thundering through your head with a start having you beam from the inside out.

Gale lifted a hand as if to raise everyone’s attention before speaking. “I hope so! I have a perfectly hearty rabbit stew planned for supper.”

It had taken the inn owner ten gold pieces and a lot of convincing to get you a Yule Tree. Was it important in midst of everything that was happening? Possibly not. Were you still humming Christmas songs yet again as you carried a small box full of ornaments and decorations up the wooden stairs to your room? Absolutely.

Gale was already cooking. They all knew the very moment you entered the room with it that the tree someone had brought up in the meantime was your doing. And now, while the others were getting ready to rest for the day, you began decorating the room as if you didn’t have a care in the world. And for just a moment, you pretended you didn’t.

You spotted Astarion glancing at you from the corners of your eye. He’d crossed his arms before his chest, looking as handsome as ever and even more so now with his hair still a little damp from getting the dust of the road off of him.

“Need something?” You smiled, noticing how he admired the pine cones dipped in molten silver and the delicious-smelling orange slices on the tree for just a second too long. The straw stars you were specifically proud of as you stood on your tiptoes and stretched to put the biggest one on the tip of the tree, completing your masterwork.

“Oh, don’t mind me… I’m just enjoying the show.”

You blinked at him, gnashing your teeth as you felt a treacherous heat creeping up your cheeks, for his gaze was by no means fixed on the tree anymore but your behind. At times it was still hard to believe this incredible elf was attracted to you of all people.

“Is this really necessary? I mean, really? You’re wasting our time and energy on decorating a tree?”

“Hey… we won’t know yet if that’s our last Christmas. I don’t mean to be pessimistic but you know just as well as I do that there is a good chance we won’t make it out of this alive. I might as well enjoy the little things until… I can’t. You never know. Besides, this is the first time in weeks we’re sleeping with a roof over our heads. We have beds and a fireplace. I would be silly not to decorate a little, especially with a recent murder right next door.”

“Well… I suppose… but don’t expect me to help you.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it, oh fangy one! I’m actually done and it looks absolutely amazing, if I may say so.”

Astarion scoffed—playfully so. It was then Halsin joined, admiring your tree up close with a second portion of stew in his hands.

“Well, I think it looks beautiful. There’s no better way to get into the festive spirit than with a little bit of nature in one’s home.”

You fought hard to hide the chuckle bubbling up your throat when Astarion rolled his eyes as soon as the druid turned away again.

“The man really can’t shut up about enjoying the freedom of nature’s gifts.”

You couldn’t help it. You burst out laughing. Needless to say, your companions’ shocked expressions made you cackle even more but perhaps the surprise on Astarion’s face was what brought you even more joy than the way he had mimicked Halsin.

“In the end, it won’t be the mind flayers who kill me. It’ll be you,” you choked out, wiping your eyes with the ball of your thumb. Gods, you were actually crying from laughter.

There was only one piece of decoration left in the box now—it was a dew-fresh mistletoe complete with a red ribbon. And you knew just where to put it.

With a smile, you danced over to Astarion and held the green plant above your head. The vampire spawn looked up, confused and flustered both at the same time.

“Wanna know what my favourite Yule tradition is?”

“I’m sure you’re about to tell me,” he purred.

“Whenever two souls are caught under the mistletoe, they have to kiss.”

“Do they now?”

You grinned.

“Well… in that case, we better not risk the wrath of whatever god came up with it.”

“That would be Frigg, wife of Odin and mother of Baldur who never wanted the mistletoe to be forgotten again after Loki—“ You didn’t manage to finish your sentence for in the next moment, Astarion pulled you close and pressed his lips against yours. The kiss was a promise and a reward, a display of affection… and a small gesture of care warming your heart.

“How do you always do that?” you murmured against his mouth, breaking the kiss just long enough to draw a deep breath. “Leave me wanting for more? Tempting me?”

“Tempting you, hmm? Well… You know what they say… the only way to cure a temptation… is to give in to it.”

A little squeak escaped your lips before you could stop yourself. You pressed your lips together to a thin line, eyes wide as your hand flew up to your mouth to cover it. But of course, Astarion had heard you. Amused, he quirked an eyebrow.

“What was that?”

“N-nothing.”

“Really? Because I think I heard quite the delectable little noise coming from your lips just now.”

“N-no. Oh gods, you have to stop this. I will melt, Astarion. I will literally melt and then you can go get a mop and wipe me up!”

Astarion laughed, surprise mixing with delight. “Oh, darling, I could go all night… as you well know,” he purred.

Another squeak. He’d caught on to it now, of course—that the reason for those inhumane sounds escaping your body was all his doing. Oh, for fuck’s sake…

“Okay, that’s it.” Arms akimbo, you narrowed your eyes at him. You were all but flustered when you grabbed the collar of his shirt with such vigour, the tiniest hint of surprise and hesitation flittered across his face before his smug smirk returned and you kissed him yet again, longer and more passionately this time.

“You really will be the death of me” you breathed against his lips. “It’s a nice way to go though, I won’t complain.” The urge to rip off his clothes there and then grew stronger with every passing second. You knew he wasn’t ready yet, despite his relentless teasing and you’d be the last person to push him but… judging by how he wrapped his arms around your waist yet again and pressed you closer to his body yet again, a heartfelt kiss was never off limits.

You sighed against his lips, the mistletoe dropping to the ground. Only the gods knew what would have happened if you had not been interrupted despite your fellow companions still in the room but alas, the door burst open with a bang so loud you both flinched.

“This… is… AWESOME!” When Karlach entered the room, she was wearing the ugliest Yule sweater you had ever seen. Tinsel and two baubles were hanging from her horn and in her hands, she held a massive candy cane and a mug of what you assumed was eggnog. “I LOVE Christmas! Oh, you got us a tree! We should go and buy presents for each other to unwrap tomorrow!”

“Karlach, please, it’s late and I’m tired,” Astarion complained.

“Fiiiine, tomorrow morning then. A kid downstairs just told me about this fat guy called Santa who climbs through the chimney and puts gifts under the tree if you leave him cookies and milk. Do we have cookies and milk? We have to get cookies and milk!”

You laughed. In that case… you certainly had a long night ahead of you before you could get a good night’s sleep.

Everyone was fast asleep by the time you got up and tiptoed across the cool floorboards on naked feet in the dark, past the crackling fire in the centre of the warm and cosy room, and toward Astarion’s bed. You could hear the wind blowing outside the tavern in the dead of night as you climbed under the covers and cuddled up to your lover who had, without a doubt, been expecting you. Astarion wrapped you in his arms, his lips grazing your bare neck ever so slightly.

“Hello, darling.”

At peace and content, you both listened to the instruments Gale enchanted to play quiet music to lull you all to sleep.

“Well, aren’t you brave, revealing your lovely neck to a vampire like that?”

You chuckled into his pillow, stretching even more.

“You know… I think we’re past the point now where I have to tell you each night that you can… I mean… if you’re hungry just… feed on me, alright?”

“R-Right.” For a moment, a both vulnerable and surprised expression washed over his handsome face—but it was gone before your memory could properly capture it, not to mention the darkness around you made that very difficult. He was so incredibly good at masking his feelings, that you longed to cuddle the shit out of him and tell him that it was all going to be okay. “Well… I’ve only just learned how wonderful it feels to have a choice and have your boundaries respected, all thanks to you. I’d actually prefer if you asked.”

So instead, you settled for wriggling yourself under the covers until he stirred.

“That’s… that’s good. That’s very good,” you whispered as you cuddled up to him even more.

“So? Can’t you sleep or are you just too excited until morning to see me again, love?”

You chuckled. “Your bed is more comfortable than mine.”

In the dark, it was hard to tell whether Astarion’s confusion was real or feigned. It was amusing nonetheless. “You will find that all the beds in this room are the same, pet.”

“No. No they aren’t. Mine doesn’t have you in it.”

“Oh… my cheeky little pup.”

Your chuckle turned into a childish giggle as a jolt of electricity rippled through you as if Gale had hit you with a lightning blast.

“You know exactly what you’re doing to me, don’t you?” you whispered.

Astarion hummed in response. “Well… yes. Though I have to admit I have never met anyone displaying their excitement as openly as you, darling.”

“I’ll make sure to never stop. Merry Christmas, Astarion.”

The vampire spawn sighed when you shuffled even closer and pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek.

“Merry Christmas, love.”

A/N: And Merry Christmas to you all as well! ♥ I had to dedicate this year's Christmas Imagine to Astarion. I fell so hard for him thanks to Neil, it's insane. I hope you'll spend some lovely days with your loved ones! ♥

[ninjaturtlemaniac]

Part 10 Trolls Headcanons/ Theories/ Thoughts/ Ideas

This may be my last headcanons list, my friends. Will still do art and stuff but I am fresh outta ideas.

Part1 Part2 Part3 Part4 Part5 Part6 Part7 Part8 Part9

Enjoy 💕

Sub Tribes - KPop/Reggaeton/Yodelers/Chaz etc. there's not many of them around because they came from overseas.

King Peppy - Didn't tell Poppy about Viva because he was in the early stages of dementia. (Canon?) For a while he thought Poppy WAS Viva. By the time he realised his 'mistake', Poppy was already grown.

Vacay Island - the brothers sometimes help Bruce at his restaurant. They have name tags with funny 'work names'. Flood, Big Fish, Classy, and Big Brunch. Viva and Poppy have done the odd shift as well, as Pinky and Vista. 😝

Brozone - they became world famous, argued and left BEFORE the cage went around the Pop Troll Tree. (Canon?)

Brozone - there was a rumoured 'unfinished' Brozone song that was supposed to be released after that tour. John finally finishes it and the brothers offer to sing it for Poppy's bridal entrance song. Poppy immediately faints. In my head the song is 'Helpless When She Smiles' by The Backstreet Boys

Brozone - whatever the Trolls equivalent of the Superbowl is, I feel like Bruce and JD would be very into it. Jerseys and face paint and everything.

Bruce - cameras make him self-conscious. If he is in a group he can tolerate it but hates being the only one in the photo.

Bruce - has caught his kids trying to do the Brozone dance routines. He tries to stay out of it best he can and let them have their fun but then they ask him to teach them and doesn't he just melt.

Bruce - has a wedding ring but it is Vacationer sized. He keeps it in his hair mostly but will braid it into his hair like an accessory for special occasions.

Bruce - 100% certain Poppy and Branch's first born would be a boy. "We're a family of five brothers! It took Brandy and I thirteen tries to have a daughter. Trust me, I have no doubt your first egg will absolutely be a boy." *They have a girl* Bruce 😑

Floyd - can only sleep comfortably near an open window. Sometimes can only sleep sitting up.

Floyd - will randomly stare off into space or mutter to himself.

Floyd - *clears throat* I ship Floom! 💕🏳️‍🌈

Floyd - can't stick to new hobbies for very long, he hyperfixates for a week or two then gets bored. Macrame, candle making, soap making, jewelry making, photography are some examples.

Clay - his brothers collectively tried to convince him that he was the adopted brother.

Clay - is quite squeamish. The sight of vomit, open wounds and bodily fluids; Clay will absolutely pass out. Snotty babies make him very uncomfortable.

Clay - gets Viva to braid his hair out of his face only when something really serious is happening *cracks neck* "Viva?" "Yah?" "Braid me" "Yes, Sir." Shwoooop

Clay - Found out the Classical Trolls have a library larger the Pop Village. "Viva, they have a whole wing dedicated to tragedies! Tragedies, Viva!"

Clay - okay, so he and Viva have never been a couple, even if he ever considered it, their work came first and he didn't want to jeopardize what they had. Buuuuuuuttt the thought that another Troll could one day be Viva's person, that she would go to them instead of him for comfort or ideas or laughs or safety or hugs... it makes Clay feel... weird.

Clay - at some point is named some kinda Troll magazines most eligible bachelor. Bro was in a boyband, co-runs a society of survivors, runs a business, is close friends with royalty, has been knighted, has a license to practice accounting and was part of the only known Perfect Family Harmony. He's apparently a hot commodity now.

John Dory - takes night classes to finally get his highschool diploma. Is too embarrassed to tell anyone until he graduates.

John Dory - doesn't get sick often. But when he does, he keeps going to the point of exhaustion.

John Dory - has indeed crossed paths with Delta Dawn before. Both of them have very different versions of the story. "I serenaded her." "The fool was whining something from the inside of a jail cell."

John Dory - has been known to sleep with his eyes open. Freaks people out.

John Dory - will drink milk straight from the carton and put it back in the fridge.

John Dory - teaches Bruce's kids all the swear words and does in fact tell them his rendition of where eggs come from.

Viva - tries to hide sadder feelings from Poppy. Worried that Poppy won't want to hang out with her if she isn't fun.

Poppy - sometimes feels guilty, if things had been different, Viva would have been Queen. Viva tries to reassure Poppy that she is "The right Troll for the role." 👍🏻 Also Viva tries to argue that they both technically get be Queens now anyway.

Guy Diamond - Trolls have eggs when they have powerful feelings of love. Guy Diamond was able to have Tiny because he loves himself so much.

[malsfefanfics]

tells us about davi

Well, right now, there's not much to know about him, since his story is still a little in the works. But this is basically him at the moment.

Davi lived with his family in Duscur in a mountain village that prided itself on raising strong warriors, but whose primary focus was mining. This village was about two days travel on horseback to the nearest smiths. He lived with his mother, his twin brother Rui, and his grandfather, who was sort of the person in charge in the community. His father had passed when he was very young during a border skirmish. Their village prayed often to the Earth God and the War God, given how close they were to Faerghus.

Davi lived with his family, learning mining songs and blacksmith songs, training with any weapon he could get his hands on, and cooking with his grandfather. He would also take time to play with the other children and he was very interested when travelling merchants came to town with new things he wouldn't recognize. Due to a certain aspect about him, he wouldn't be in line to succeed his grandfather, but he didn't care. Over the years, his curiosity lead to him trying to learn the languages of their neighbor nations, and even attempted to adapt some of their stories into song, eventually leading to him wanting to pursue composing operas based on Duscur's religion. He lived a happy, peaceful life.

Until one day, when he, his brother, and their mother were taking ore to the smiths village to be forged. Through a cruel twist of fate, his family got caught up in the inciting incident of Tragedy of Duscur. They weren't involved in the assassination plot. It was truly just a matter of "wrong place, wrong time" He lost his brother and mother that day. And he barely survived by the skin of his teeth. Were it not for Graham, who defended him against a soldier who almost got him from behind, and Chliodna, who took him and Graham into her home deep in the forest and healed their wounds shortly after, Davi would be dead. Once Graham was well enough to travel again, they returned to Davi's village, but by then, most of it was gone. His grandfather was gone. Most of his friends as well.

After that, anyone from his village that survived prepared to travel. The plan was to travel to one of the surrounding nations and hope to settle someplace private, but due to circumstances, they never managed to leave Fódlan. Graham and Chliodna took it upon themselves to be Davi's guardians, and that eventually lead to them growing close and getting married. Davi's group eventually found themselves settling in an abandoned farming town in the Empire (one that had been left to ruin due to demonic beasts. They make it work.), having picked up many people along their travels. Their home is incredibly diverse in cultures, and Davi eventually became a pillar in his community similarly to how his grandfather did.

For canon-compliant AUs, I imagine he ends up at the monastery due to the fact that he is in need of further education, but due to extenuating circumstances, he can't enroll like a normal student. So he decides to pose as a mercenary, and makes use of what resources are available to the public (or to those who make it down to Abyss). Before he left, though, Davi was given a suppression charm by Chliodna to hide his Crest, and Graham warned him to try not to get too close to anyone, especially those in the Blue Lion house or the Church, so that his Crest won't be revealed. This becomes very difficult when someone asks to spar with him and he ends up shattering a broadsword in a single swing, catching the attention of literally everyone he's trying to avoid.

If he's not recruited before the time-skip, he will leave the monastery and return to his people. He wouldn't be playable after that. I like to imagine that Davi, due to his upbringing, could potentially open up a branching story path where Byleth can choose to defect to other factions with Davi or encourage him to stay and fight with their group. But I'd need to work on that a little more.

Other than that, some minor details I imagine about him.

His favorite color is orange because he loves the color of the sky at sunset

If the Tragedy of Duscur didn't happen I imagine he'd be very similar in personality to Clark in My Adventures with Superman

The first time he ever saw a real opera, he definitely cried

He can sew, but is very slow about it

He's the one you want to take with you to buy a new weapon because he knows good quality

Has long, black, very thick hair that he usually leaves loose or partly tied back behind him.

Is fluent in the languages of Fodlan, Duscur, Sreng, Almyra, and Dagda. Currently studying the language of Brigid.

He's completed at least one opera he himself composed

He is BiAce.

When he's in casual wear, he tends to dress in more traditional clothing from his home. Particularly his father's kilt, which was the only memento of him Davi was able to preserve.

But yeah! That's Davi!

[moobell55]

The Lake Of Stars

Warm summer air drifted through the open windows of The Hollow, filling it with a pleasant warmth so unlikely for the North.

It reminded Evangeline of her childhood summers spent in the warmth of Velenda. Her time spent in her parents shop and playing with the other children of Velenda.

She missed her first home sometimes, but she loved her life in the North more. Every day for her was a new adventure, and everyday spent with her husband was greater than the last.

Speaking of her husband he was nowhere to be seen, which was rather suspicious. He'd mostly stayed out of trouble since they'd been married, claiming "His new bride deserved him on his best behavior." But for Jacks his best behavior was still horrid at best, not that Evangeline minded after all she did marry him.

As she walked through the halls she caught a gimps of something moving out in the lake. The sun's bright beams shown on a gilded head of gold moving through the water.

Evangeline knew where her husband was.

Quickly she made her out the door, and walked the trail lined with dozens of different kinds of blooming flowers to the dock.

Evangeline loved this dock; after all it's where her and Jacks had gotten married.

It offered the most beautiful view of the lake too, especially during the nights where the dark water shone with the light of stars. The lake seemed to become different at night too, seeming to fill your body with a calming effect if you touched the waters.

Sitting on the warmed dock she searched the waters for her husband, worrying herself when she couldn't see his golden head break the surface. She knew realistically she had nothing to worry about, he was an incredible swimmer.But the dark water hid everything beneath the surface of it, including wherever her husband was hidden.

Somewhere above her in the trees a bird began calling, seeming to enchanted Evangeline with its echoing song. She searched the trees above for the calling bird but found nothing.

As she looked above she didn't see the head that surfaced for a brief moment above the water; only quickly to dive back down once it caught sight of the sitting women.

Evangeline finally caught sight of the bird, a small Gold Finch sat on the high branch of a blooming Apple Tree. The bird moving back and forth between the white and pink flowers.

Watching the bird Evangeline wasn't watching the body that shot out the water in between her legs. A shriek left Evangeline's mouth as she was met with the sudden appearance of her husbands drenched face.

Over in the distance the Goldfinch flew away at her shriek, letting the women below focus and the dripping man.

Evangeline looked at her husband, her heart racing in her chest.

"Hello my love. Did I scare you?" His tone was sweet, but the devil look in his eyes let her see all he was hidding.

But Evangeline had always been poor at resisting the charms on the devil made mortal below her in the water

Sighing softly she brushed his drenched curls away from his pale face, they looked more light brown than their gold from the dark waters. She carefully ran her fingers over his Sharpe jaw line and he preened into the touch.

"Just a little bit my love, but you did scare my bird away," her grey followed the water droplets that ran down his chiseled chest.

He moved to stand in between her legs, he was about eye level with her stomach covered by the soft pink and gold fabric of her sun dress.

"I'd like to believe that I'm better company than a bird," his eyes ran over her exposed thighs from where her dress bunched up.

She rolled her eyes, "I've yet to decide, after all the bird didn't get me all soaked."

Hands began trailing up her exposed leg, stopping short of her thighs. Expertly he caressed his long fingers trailing the inside of her thighs.

She bit the inside of her cheeks to fight a moan at his feather light touch, it ignited her skin into flames at every movement. As he kneaded the skin of her thighs his silver eyes watched her every movement.

He pinched her thigh and she gasped.

"Never before have I heard you complain about how Soaked I get you Little Fox," his gaze was full of heat, "You seem to enjoy it."

His eyes traveled her body like a predator who just found its prey after weeks of starving, and Evangeline loved it.

Suddenly he pulled himself from the blue water and onto the dock besides her, water soaking her and the dock even more.

As was about to yell at him again but was stopped at the sight of exposed body, the only thing covering him was his black boxers. They did little to cover him as the wet material was stuck to his skin.

Water droplets ran down the firm panes of his chest, running down to the blonde array of hair that sneaked out of his boxers. The hair at the nape of his neck was soaked onto his firm back muscles. As he positioned himself to sit by her, she couldn't help but be enchanted by the way his muscles moved.

"See anything you like?" His voice distracted her from her ogling.

"And what if I do?" Her tone matched his snark, but the smirk on his face only grew.

His hands returned to her thigh, and began trailing her dress up further. He moved closer to her face, and began kissing up her neck causing little gasps to fall from her sweet lips.

"Then I'd say we're wearing too many clothes," his voice sounded raspy from his assault on her neck.

She couldn't help but to agree.

His hands caught the hemp of her dress from where it was pushed up against her thighs, and steadily drew it up over her body. Exposing her soft body to the warm summer breeze; more tingles erupted in her body from the feeling.

His lips never left her neck only to start a new conquest towards her unbound chest, leaving purple and red marks in the wake of his lips.

Evangeline knew how much her husband loved the sun dresses, and she took every opportunity to wear them when the rare weather occurred.

Threading a hand through his hair she tugged him away from her chest, and her lips collided with his. His lips were the sweetest thing she'd ever tasted, words didn't exist to describe how good they felt against hers. Every touch had her craving more, a never ending hunger that she knew would never fade.

This here with him was her peace, the happy ending she'd been looking for her entire life. And with a man who was anything but peace, she found her greatest source of love.

Their lips never stopped moving, not a fight but a battle.

A battle for every minute of every year they'd spent without each other. A battle for every year Jacks had spent searching for his One True Love, only to find it in the woman who'd stolen his heart and soul.

Oh My Little Fox, Jacks voice was smooth against her mind a contrast to his rough lips.

She stiffed a laugh as his shape teeth tugged her bottom lip. Causing a loud moan to escape her kissing bitten lips.

My Wicked Prince, she cooed as her hands began trailing up his wet forearms. Every inch of him was toned with cords of muscle, perfect for her to grab onto. And even better for him to carry her to bed, or whatever location they desired in the moment.

He pulled her closer to him, and using his unfairly graceful strength flipped them over so Evangeline rested on his thighs.

He placed his forehead against her's as they caught their breath.

His smile was the most beautiful thing she'd ever had the pleasure of witnessing.

With his fuller lower lip, Sharp jaw and cheek bones, those perfectly white teeth he spent so much time brushing, and best of all those dimples he must've stolen from an Angle. For no man as wicked and cunning as her husband would ever be born with something so innocent.

But yet here he was, holding his wife, his one and only True Love on the dock which they married, almost stark naked as dozens of flowers bloomed around them in the summer air.

He was wicked, but Evangeline had always known she never truly minded as his lips captured her own again.

Somewhere above them a bird began singing once again as the Prince of Hearts began carrying his Wife back towards their home.

Finish

[beautifullydisasterouskae]

~Present~

Kae:

*Sun shades had cooled to fall then winter. It was a new dawn. A new day. Morning birds sing-song to rouse me from slumber. The air had a welcomed December chill.

In the morning when I wake, vibrations started at the base of my spine. Tickling sensations in my inner ear. Feeling suddenly lost when I find myself draped half off the worn red floral chaise.

Awareness brings about a new discovery. A freshly painted canvas rested over the travel easel sitting just there. Smears and swirled blends of colors vibrantly depicting an odd scene.

One figure I knew immediately.

Blue with flecks of green. Tall and dark. Lean muscles. I’d been fighting the urge to be close to him.

One of the women…unfamiliar at first until realization bloomed at the new hire @LivForThem.

The other two figures were still a mystery.

Dante and this new person, Josi, were somehow tied to the future.

There was this truth hidden in my heart. I went forward slowly. This new revelation made me nervous. Everything would be different. The world and maybe myself, may not be ready for this.

I hid the panic that was clawing up to the surface.

I had extended my stay here in Montana. No one was expecting me back home. I had my bookshop apothecary in Colorado. Which I had closed up to travel here.

I’d been searching for a new place. A new home?

No one likes to be alone. Most days I bury my nose in a book trying to figure out my thoughts. Kitten had taken me by the hand and asked about my love life.

How could I share anything when there was nothing? Was there? Surely I was out of my mind.

But this new painting. A premonition of what’s to come.

Kitten and Laz were quiet during dinner.

It was a damp cold night. I tried to figure myself out by taking a walk out past the ranch and into the wild untamed lands.

@FathomlessPain and I had been playing this delicate dance around each other. When Kitten asked about any interests I didn’t want to speak about Dante. He didn’t appear interested. Had he?

I had difficulty gulping that thought down. Peeking out past the curtains I see fog creeping over the lake.

Wisps over the landscape. It was much like Colorado here. Lush greenery and hidden hiking paths.

I couldn’t really sleep at night. Insomnia taking hold. I’d taken to wandering into the forest to forage for botanical ingredients for my homeopathic remedies.

The woods were such a contrast from daylight. Where the forest colors that nature had painted over the season tinted foliage in the loveliest shades. Mist drenched branches and foliage glimmered in the low light.

I was at one among the dark rows of trees. The gloomy weather was perfect for my brooding mood. Lost in the serenity and sounds of the evening.

I tried to hide I was hanging on Dante’s every word when he would visit. Foolish of me to think I’d ever have a chance.

I was an old soul. Wanting to inhabit abandoned cottages in the fog drenched, moss coated woodland forests.

Everything I knew before was taken. The coven disbanded. The Reject likely hauled back to Hades. My memories are locked in the depths of my mind, nothing could take that away from me.

The painting comes back to the forefront of my mind. Josi had gained my curiosity. Should I get to know her? I’d gotten accustomed to her being there, in the background with Kitten. Always shadowing her.

I studied her. Frowning as Josi’s hard features never really shifted. Was she caught constantly in thought?

I was no one to judge. I’d usually found myself in the library, envisioning far off worlds or in the stables with Tula, checking on the baby goats.

Maybe if I shared more of myself to Josi, then she would be more apt to opening up? I groaned at myself. What was this so hard?

This wasn’t the end of my story. There were things far more beautiful out there waiting to be discovered.*

[zaffreberries]

Maybe magic is real, just not in the way we think would be. Maybe it’s something more personal, something more intimate. Something inside that you can’t see, but only feel. Something that changes the whole world without ever touching anything but you.

It started whilst I was on holiday. It was a hot summer in a place that was warmer than I was used to so I took shelter from the heat in the holiday cabin we were staying in. I had nothing to do and only a single book to read. It was Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban. I started reading it before I realised it was the third book in the series and endeavoured to finally sit down and read it all and learn what all the fuss was about. My curiosity had been piqued though and I needed to scratch that itch. Thus a small spark of chance would ignite the hungry flames of my imagination forever more.

I had come late to the Harry Potter Fandom. I started reading the first book when I got back from holidays and I couldn’t stop. Thankfully my lateness allowed me to indulge in as much as I could manage and before long I had already caught up. I wasn’t much for the internet, and so I barely interacted with anyone else in regards to Harry Potter, there was just me and this shifting paradigm occurring inside. It wasn’t a complete shift, But it was enough. I never forgot the enjoyment I had from reading that series. The excitement, the feelings. It left me with a want for more, it made me feel actual emotions reading the books. Maybe there would be more magic hiding out there just waiting for me to read. Maybe books weren’t so boring after all.

I remember doing chores whilst The prisoner of Azkaban played in the background, the movie swiftly becoming a comfort video for me. I remember playing the old Harry Potter game so much I can never read “Flipendo” without immediately hearing it said like in the game. I remember getting sorted into Ravenclaw when i finally took the quiz on Pottermore. I remember seeing people dressed up in cosplay and getting excited because I wasn’t the only one who loved this magical world. When the Hogwarts House anniversary editions came out I had to get all the Ravenclaw ones. I have the whole set proudly displayed on my book case. I smile inside when I look at them. I had such wonder and happiness in my own little world all thanks to this one series.

It wasn’t long before I started branching out, searching for other books that might contain more magic. Some did, many didn’t. Some were enjoyable, others became slogs but few ever had that same effect on me as Harry Potter did. The girl with the Dragon Tattoo, Fourth Wing, the Raven Cycle, Song of Achilles and Circe. I found more magic contained in the ink on their pages and I read them as if I were drowning and they were air. Most books are enjoyable, but every now and then a book is so much more than what it seems. Even as I continue to read what I can I always somehow end up drifting back to where it started. It’s as if it were a cozy home and I have gone on a holiday to someplace new and exciting and had come back to rest and recuperate before heading off again.

times have changed. Between the scandal of the Author’s comments and the awkwardness of the later movies the Harry Potter fandom has fallen from its lofty heights. It is no longer the star it once was. For me though it’s still a comfort, like an old favourite jacket that immediately feels cozy when you put it on again, I’ll keep coming back to it, putting on that jacket, not just to be warm, but sometimes just for the familiarity of it. There are rumours of a new tv series being made. Maybe they’ll be able to recapture the magic of the movies. The game brushed close but audience’s are more fickle than before. The court of public opinion is far less forgiving than in ages past and it’s attention shifts fast. Hopefully it does well. Hopefully it allows others to experience the same magic I felt when I discovered this world. Maybe others will feel that little magic when they read it, maybe more little sparks will ignite inside people when they read the books or watch the movies. Maybe it is something else that will be the catalyst for their transformation. Maybe it’s another book that holds the spell that unlocks their imagination and sets them on a path of discovery and wonder, that’ll comfort them in on sad days, that’ll feed their soul the right thing at the right time to make it shine just a little brighter ever after.

This series, It’s given me so much, it opened my eyes to a whole new world of magic and was the start of my enduring love of reading. I’m happy that I took a chance one hot summer. I’m glad that one book was able to show me that magic is real. And I truly hope that others are able to find that same magic waiting in between the pages of a book, bound in ink just waiting to change your world.

[walkerwords]

“To Feel Better” Daryl Dixon x GN!Reader

IMAGE CREDIT: AMC

Request from Anonymous: for your requests i saw a prompt where it was person A finding excuses to hold person B's hand such as my hands are cold will you warm them for me I think that would be cute with Daryl. 

Word Count: 1859

Warning: Swearing

Song I Wrote To: “Cardigan” by Taylor Swift

Note: I love fluff requests yall! This one is set during the time our survivors are looking for shelter after the fall of the farm!

---------

When the farm fell, nobody knew what they were doing. 

Herschel and Rick were doing their best to keep some sort of order within the group, but they could only do so much once the cold set in and the food became more scarce. Then after losing some people during the invasion of Walkers and Shane’s attempt at a coup, pieces felt as if they were being broken off.

Andrea had been someone who you trusted wholeheartedly. You had been with her and her sister, Amy, since the beginning. Andrea had protected you both, but in the end it had been Amy who befell the fate of the new world. Her death still followed you around and you knew that it had haunted her sister for a while as well. If anything, it had made Andrea harder and more resilient. Still, she kept her eyes on you and you knew that if it came down to it, you would protect her with everything you had. That remained true until you saw her go down on the farm and never saw her reemerge from the horde as Daryl pulled you on to the back of his bike and took off down the dirt path. 

Now it was only a matter of time before someone else was lost. With the larger herds moving North all the time, the group had to keep moving and there wasn’t any time to rest for more than a couple of days. With Lori being pregnant, it was definitely causing more issues. You were exhausted, Shane was dead, Rick was keeping something a secret, and Carl was growing up before your eyes. It was too much, too fast. 

Winter was coming and going, the weather never staying the same in the South. You had been used to that your entire life, but without constant shelter or warm meals, every time the temperature dropped even a fraction, stress levels skyrocketed within the group and it was starting to get to you. Daryl, someone you had grown closer to since the farm, had tried to keep your spirits up the best he could, but there was only so much he could do. 

It was late one night when you found yourself alone on watch. Rick and Maggie had found a house that was far enough from the road with working locks and insulated enough to offer warmth. Nobody dared light a fire in case the Living decided to poke around, but it was better than sleeping in another field with one eye open. 

You were rubbing a stray bullet between your fingers as you saw on a bench just in front of the house when Daryl approached, the gun that housed said bullet was in your other hand. “I got watch,” he said, taking a seat next to you. 

“I’m fine,” you said, keeping your eyes on the dark wall of trees before you. 

“Ya need sleep,” he argued, but you remained still.

“I said, I’m fine,” you repeated. 

“Ya, that’s what ya always say,” he said. It was silent then as he sat next to you. Daryl knew when not to push you and this was definitely one of those times. If there was one person who could sit in complete silence and say more with just their body language it was you and Daryl appreciated that after hours of constant noise from the rest of the group. 

It was after a while that Daryl finally realized what you kept playing with in your hand. He recognized it as a gun that was once shoved in his face when he had first arrived at the quarry with Merle. “That Walsh’s gun?” he asked, nodding his head toward the pistol. You nodded, turning over the weapon in your hand. He wasn’t sure where you had found it, but he could tell that you had cleaned it up. “You thinkin’ about him?” 

“I don’t know what happened,” you finally said. “He was so strong…”

“Even the most level-headed people can get corrupted by this world,” Daryl said and you thought it was one of the most profound things he had ever said. Then again, you figured that Daryl was incredibly bright and he just didn’t let people see that side of him. 

“I thought he’d be one of the last people standing,” you admitted. 

“Didn’t realize you were that close,” Daryl said with a frown. 

“He saved my life,” you said with a shrug, remembering back to all the times Shane had pulled a Walker off of you when you were distracted. “He always looked out for Amy, too. Look, he wasn’t a great man, I know that, but I owed him enough. I was hoping he’d make it at least a few more years.”

“I get that,” Daryl said with a sigh, running a hand through his messy hair. You had noticed that it was getting longer, especially on the sides. 

“Sorry,” you said, “I know you hated him.” 

“I didn’t trust him,” Daryl clarified. 

“Fair enough.” 

You sat back into silence then. Your ears were scanning for the familiar groans of the Dead or the subtle footprints of the Living, but so far, nothing had approached the newest nest for the group. You were definitely missing the RV on the more treacherous nights.

Daryl was quiet before he looked over at you. You could see his face out of the corner of your eye, but you tried your hardest to ignore him. You knew Daryl had been looking out for you for a while. Or rather he had been watching you and you knew he was worried, but you couldn’t bring yourself to take any extra steps towards him. No matter how much you wanted it. 

“You know,” you began, breaking the silence, “I wanted to study old bones and all that.” 

“So, an anthropologist?” Daryl said. You looked over at him with shock on your face and he clocked it immediately. “What, I watched the History Channel,” he defended, causing you to laugh. 

“Yeah, Daryl, just like that,” you said. “I wanted to know how humanity began, but I’m only seeing what we’ve become,” you said as you stared at a Walker corpse that Maggie had downed a few hours before. 

Your hand began to twitch then, a nervous habit you had developed as a teenager. It always exposed everything that you were too afraid to say. There was something about the way your body always knew what was wrong before your mind did. You figured it was something to do with the survival instincts that had kicked in the night they dropped fire on Atlanta and other major cities. 

Daryl noticed your hand instantly. “You’re doing it again,” he said quietly. 

“Nervous habit,” you said, clenching your fist, trying to quiet your nerves. “It used to drive my mom crazy.”

“You don’t talk about her anymore,” Daryl noticed. Turning to look at him, you furrowed your brow. “It’s just, ya used to talk about her at the quarry with Amy and Andrea a lot,” he said with a shrug. 

“Guess I haven’t been in the mood to be sentimental lately,” you said. 

“I get that,” he said as he continued to watch the slight tremor in your palms. “My mom died before all this,” he said  and you were surprised to hear him say anything about his family. Besides Merle, Daryl never mentioned anything about his past. At least, not to you. 

“I’m sorry,” you said. 

“I’m just glad ya know, that she didn’t have to see all this shit,” he said and you knew what he was talking about. In an odd way, anyone who had died before the outbreak lucked out. Nobody deserved to see the new horrors of the world and nobody deserved to be fighting tooth and nail just to survive. Lifting your head to the sky, you watched as a single star shot across the darkness before it disappeared again in the plethora of stars and scattered moonlight. 

“Odd, isn’t it?” you asked. 

“What?” 

“That because the world is dark, we finally see the stars. Living in cities always hid them,” you said with a sigh. 

“Yeah,” Daryl said, following your gaze. 

“ ‘Moonlight drowns out all but the brightest stars’,” you quoted with ease.

“Tolkien, huh?” Daryl said, recognizing the words. 

“Look at you,” you teased and Daryl rolled his eyes. 

“I read,” Daryl defended and you raised your hands in surrender. The movement then sparked something in Daryl as he caught your hand in his and held it gently. Your hands stilled from the warmth and firm grip of the archer’s hands. You were sitting in silence as he began to rub his thumbs along the nerves and muscles in your hands. 

Daryl was silent as he caressed your hand, taking his time to soothe your anxieties away. “You are gonna be okay,” he whispered, his focus on his task. 

“How do you know?” you whispered back. 

“Because ya ain’t one to let this world beat ya,” Daryl said simply. You took a minute for that to sink in and you knew that he was right. If anything, you were not going to give up so that the dying world took you with it. You knew that death was inevitable, but you also knew that you had come too far already to start to give up now. “Do you know the story of the man who fought off three bears and lived?” Daryl asked suddenly. 

Looking over at him, you raised your brows. “What?” Daryl nodded. 

“Yeah, the crazy son of a bitch jumped into a bear enclosure at a zoo to test if he could survive the worst possible thing,” he said. “Fought them all off with his hands and a tree branch. Nobody thought a person could do that and he did. Only came out of there with a broken hand.” 

“Is there a moral to this story?” you asked. Daryl turned your hand over in his, tracing the lines on your palm. 

“Don’t try to fight bears unless you’re high on pretty hardcore shit because he had to have been, right?” Daryl said easily and you couldn’t stop the laugh that bubbled out of your chest. Daryl gave you a smile then and you realized what he was doing. 

“Was that story even true?” you asked. 

“Nah,” Daryl said. “Does it matter, though?” 

“Not at all,” you whispered, wrapping your other hand around the joined ones between you. Moving closer to him, you leaned into him, feeling his body heat. “Thanks.” 

Daryl gently lifted your hand to his face and pressed a kiss to the back of it in a very rare act of tenderness. His lips lingered on your skin for just a second before relaxing further into you.

“Anytime,” he murmured as you sank into comfortable silence and watched for the enemy that was sure enough to break through your newfound bubble of peace. However, you knew that when that happened, the man by your side would be the one to jump into the fray and wrestle with a few bears of his own. 

TAGS: @thanossexual​ @felicisimor​ @moonstuffsteve​ @lucillethings​ @stark-dreams​ 

[wthtorke]

Incandescent (Kofi commission)

Kofi one shot commission by  Insta is day_of_mayhem! 

(I might have gone off on this one lmao Enjoy!)

Incandescent. 

The night had been quiet, the trees softly hustling against one another as the wind blew. First, it was the strange noise.

From your little house in the woods, a sharp noise rattled through your bed, making you jump up in surprise.  Running to the window, you saw what could only be described as a falling star, coming quickly towards your house.

You could barely brace yourself against the windowsill as the star ripped through the clouds, falling far into the woods. Panting and scared, you looked for any signs of it. Any burning trees, smoke, noise coming from the general direction where it fell. You found none. 

From the window, you caught sight of your truck, still parked in the driveway. Grunting to yourself, you made your decision as you grabbed a coat and the wooden axe from the fireplace, running to your car, hoping to find the fallen star before anyone else did.

Gripping the steering wheel hard enough your knuckles turned white, you drove through the path in the forest, stopping when even more strange noises reached your ears.

Stopping your car, you tilted your head slightly, trying to catch it again. Seconds passed before a sudden blast made you jump, looking into the direction a flash of light also happened. Leaving the car, you held the axe close to your chest as you slowly walked towards the noise, breathing quickly as you did.

From the trees behind you, a slick, black ridged tail moved quietly as its owner's drool fell onto the tree branches, slowly stalking towards you. 

'Hssssssss..' 

Eyes widening, you turned around in time to see a black creature jumping from the tree, arms outstretched and claws ready to tear into you. 

Falling to the ground, the creature landed heavily on you, claws grappling your axe handle as you barely had time to process its weight before shiny, sharp fangs closed itself repeatedly before your face. 

You only realized you were screaming when the creature shifted its weight to your chest, cutting your air as it reeled back to strike one final time to kill you.

Closing your eyes in fear, you could only open them again as an animalistic roar reached your ears, and then the crushing weight wasn't there anymore, a screech and a heavy, wooden thud following suit. The creature had been rammed from on top of you, instead hitting the tree it jumped from hard in its back, falling to the ground, briefly shaken. 

You took your chance to get up as well and dart between the trees, out of the creature's way. You only bothered looking for whatever had knocked it out of you when the black creature hissed into another direction, and you realized there was absolutely nothing there. 

Still, under the dim moonlight, the creature leaped into nothingness, surprisingly landing on the thin air, snapping and hissing, swinging its tail around. You watched as it tried to hit something with its piercing tail. With a roar, you jerked back as it seemed to hit its goal, whatever was beneath it started zapping and glowing with failing electrical power, soon revealing what the thing was perched on as it didn't stop its struggles for one second. 

At this point, you had come to the conclusion that they were indeed aliens, and the star was no star but probably a ship that crash landed, even if you had no idea where it was now. The stream of roaring and screaming snapped you out of your thoughts, the massive humanoid alien trying to shake the creature from it’s back as best as it could, while still trying to dodge its deadly tail.

You looked around, your fight or flight instincts screaming at you to do something, anything. Looking at the dark forest behind you, you had no idea if there were other alien serpents around or more alien warriors to help this one. It was when the serpent's tail pierced the warrior's arm and you saw bright green blood explode everywhere that you took action.

Running towards both of them with your axe in hand. 

Your decision was made as the blade of your weapon sunk into the black creature’s back, it’s startled shrill making your ears ring as it’s tail hit you hard in the chest, both making you fly a few feet back and thankfully escape it’s weird fizzing blood that you’d later come to know was pure acid. 

You shook your head as you tried to breathe again, all the air knocked out from your lungs as you landed on your back. Your vision threatened to darken as you sat up, trying to spot where the aliens were.

Slowly your ears started focusing again as did your eyes, permitting you to see that not only was the black serpent not on top of the alien warrior anymore as said warrior was about to jam it’s blades into the serpent’s throat. The most intense occurrence of all your life didn’t last more than 5 minutes it seemed.

Getting up on your wobbly feet, you noticed just about how much blood there was around the ground. You watched as the warrior clutched his side, chest rising and falling as he stared at you, and while he could absolutely kill you if he so wanted, he didn’t.

Not that you were opposed to that, of course.

You felt the adrenaline die down in your blood, the cold air finally making you shiver a bit. You looked at who you supposed was a ‘he’ and back towards the general direction of your car. If his ship had truly crashed, he was stranded. Hurt and stranded.

“Safe,” You said, pointing back where your car was, “Together…?” You questioned, montioning between you and him with your less hurt hand. He took a few moments to analyze the situation before making his decision. He was hurt, more so than he’d like to admit, but less than he’d be if you hadn’t shown up. He nods, slowly, unsure, later following you to the truck, all but hauling himself up the back of the pickup truck. ‘I’ll definitely need to hose that down in the morning.’ You thought as you saw the green blood streaks as you got into the driver's seat.

The drive back was smooth, no longer fueled by raw fear and adrenaline. You felt tired, maybe because of the bruises forming where you got hit or well, the fact that this was more action than you had since….Well, ever. Getting home, you didn’t really know why you snuck him through the garage door, you had no neighbors and no family living with you but somehow it seemed the right thing to do, he was an alien after all.

He seemed to know the concept of showering, at least. He washed all the dirt and grime off of his body and you were more than a little upset at yourself that you didn’t see him take off his mask, only noticing your mistake when he got out of the bathroom and the metal was so clean it was sparkling. 

You watched as he sat in your living room and started patching himself up. While he wasn’t bleeding profusely anymore, the roaring surely gave you chills down your spine as he plunged some kind of needle into his thigh, pumping the syringe’s contents into his system before sewing his wound shut.

You pointed at the couch and told him to make himself at home, as far as that could go, anyway. You passed out as soon as you hit the pillow, your body paying no mind to the huge alien downstairs.

The next morning, he was gone.

 As much as you were expecting it, it still felt...odd. Like some kind of fever dream. Only you knew it happened by the state of your house and garage. If you didn’t know it was an alien, you’d have thought a wild bear had wrecked your house. The floor was muddy, some things were out of place or straight up on the floor while some you couldn’t tell if they were touched at all. 

Sighing, you gathered the broom, mop and trash bags to start your new mission; Cleaning the house. 

Cleaning was usually boring, but this time it just felt restless. Even as your favorite songs played in the background. Of course, no alien could just have a slumber party in some human’s house but still, much had happened yesterday. You wondered when the government’s men were going to burst through your window and shoot a sedative up your arm because you’ve had alien interaction. 

You were cleaning the kitchen cupboards when a reflection that very much wasn't your own caught your attention in the mirror. Squinting a bit, you jumped back when your eyes focused and revealed your guest's reflection, only his position was right behind you. "FUCK-” You turned around quickly, hitting your knee in the process, ”When did you get here?! God-," You started coughing a bit from the sudden intake of air.

You looked back at him when you heard strange noises coming from his helmet, almost like someone was tuning a radio before the words became clear, recordings.

"No-, trails."

You blinked in confusion for a second before realizing what he meant, slight dread setting in your gut at the prospect that an alien could speak, or well, play recordings of english to you. "Trails-, in the forest? Wow..that’s, that’s very nice, actually, hadn’t thought of that,” you thought over your next words, taking in his huge form as you did, “You’re headed home now, I suppose?”

He shook his head, motioning to his still tender wounds from yesterday’s battle against the serpent.

The serpent.

“Oh, Um-, That thing is dead, right?”

He nodded, “Exterminated. Contained.”

Contained.

“Great, great-, well, if you’re not planning to kill me and take over my house, you’re um...very welcome to stay?” You said, a bit unsure.

He nodded, walking over silently towards your garage door, you heard rummaging around, following to see him picking up after a broken vase you didn’t remember was there.

He was a considerate roommate, you could say. Wherever this alien came from, he knew of common sense, or just had a very strict mama as he helped in the chores he could. You suspected he didn’t trust you to clean his trails properly, but you weren’t complaining of free help.

Another thing you could tell is that he learned fast. Very fast. 

He’d been skeptical of you, at first. You’d never catch him sleeping or eating, always the same passive expression of his mask looking back at you. You couldn’t blame him, but even then, it was hard not to speculate what was underneath it. Did he look like Davy Jones? The Shape? He didn’t seem to be aquatic. Maybe a lizard? His skin was mottled like one, at least. 

3 months passed by before you both had that feeling. He’d been here for too long. His wounds were beyond healed, no one had shown up for him, no government, no other aliens, nothing. You’d seen him mess with his wrist gauntlet a few times, seen him test the cloaking device he had, it worked. 

So, why was he still here?

  It was on a similar night that you met him that you mustered the courage to ask.

The stars were bright, as was the moonlight. The breeze was soft, you both sat outside for a bit, looking into the forest. He told you he feared they’d come at night. You guessed he spoke of other humans, the kind that would want to study him alive, in the name of ‘science’, and he wasn’t entirely wrong.

“Are you waiting for your people to come get you? Have you sent a signal yet?”

“Yes.”

Your breath hitched a bit, the cold air around you prickling at your skin. “Oh-, well...have they replied?”

“Yes.”

You nodded, “So, I guess they’ll be coming soon, right?”

You waited for another robotic ‘Yes’ to hit your ears, to shatter your fantasy of living a nice life with him, somehow.

“No.”

“No?” You asked, lifting your head to look at him, “Why not?”

He turns to look at you for a second, at least you could assume he was looking at you behind the mask.

With that, he lifted his hands to the object of your speculation during the last 3 months, fingers slowly snapping off tubes that connected it to the rest of his armor with an audible ‘Fzzzzz’.

You held your breath as he hooked his fingers around the mask, snapping it off as well. He hovered the mask for a second before slowly lowering it away from his face.

You could feel your pupils dilate as you took in the sight of him, the spiky crown around his forehead, the mottling, so similar to the rest of his body, going down to his eyes, you lingered there for a moment, taking in how yellow they looked, and how they were staring directly into your own.

You gulped as you kept lowering your gaze, spotting the fangs, the tusks, the strong jaws that could very much clamp around your neck right now, if he so wanted. Everything about him screamed predator before, but now, having the last piece of the puzzle, you could only think of one word to describe him.

Perfect.

You let out the breath you didn’t know you were holding when his hand touched yours, so tender, mindful of his talons, yet still enveloping your cold ones in warmth. You looked up at him, fingers slowly squeezing his own, an attempt to show him you weren’t afraid, just stunned.

“Stay.” He said, in a much deeper voice than any he’d ever played for you before. His voice.

You only realized you were crying when the tears caught in between the crinkles of your smile, stopping their journey straight down your face, giving them a shortcut to falling down your chin, to where his other hand was raising up, gently tipping your face up, as he lowered his own, pressing your foreheads together.

“Stay.” You repeated, in a much quieter, shakier voice than his, but with every bit of intention behind it, still smiling as he squeezed your hand again.

Suddenly, the night didn’t feel nearly as cold anymore, nor did it feel as lonely as it once did.

[flowercrown-bard]

I have another prompt for you! Do with it ehat you want. It rested way too long in my "Ideas I never use" box:

"I don't even care about my own life, why would I care about yours? I am a fucking pheonix, my dear, death is just like an insect to me – It stings, but has no lasting effect"

(maybe it's fitted for a Fey!Jaskier? Or Ageless!Jaskier? Or a Villain?)

Ohhh I love that prompt! Thank you!! <3 (shame on me, i left out the word 'fucking' bc it didn't fit the vibe of the fic. Hope it's still ok)

I again have no idea what I'm doing, but where would be the fun in knowing what's going on in my own writing XD

word count: 4884

content warnings: brief mention of blood, brief mention of injury, temporary character death (for about two seconds), burning alive (kind of)

There was something in this forest that didn’t belong here.

Hasty steps disturbed the birds’ songs and heavy panting cut through the illusion of safety that lay over this land like a fog.

The girl running through the woods threw a glance over her shoulder, a haunted expression on her face. Her feet caught on a protruding root and with a cry that pierced the air like an arrow, she fell onto her hands and knees.

Her scream carried on, long after she had closed her lips again. The echo started out as a whisper, then it grew louder and louder, became a symphony of fear and desperation. The sound of one who was truly lost.

Then again, all who found this forest were lost in one way or another.

And though they might not realise it, no one was ever truly alone in these woods.

Inhuman blue eyes watched from the shadows of the underbrush as the girl curled in on herself, lying on the forest floor in a heap of helplessness.

With slow steps that fell onto the earth silently as a sigh, Dandelion took off their cloak of shadow and approached the lost girl in front of them. As they came closer, they lightly hummed a melody, a soft lullaby made of wishes and dreams.

Slowly, the girl’s shuddering breaths evened out and some of that tension that held her in a vice-like grip, eased out of her shoulders.

“Child,” Dandelion spoke softly, in a voice that was bird song and trees swaying in the wind.

The girl looked up. For a moment, she didn’t seem to comprehend what was kneeling before her. Then, within the blink of an eye, she scrambled backwards, terror etched onto her face.

“You don’t need to fear me,” Dandelion said softly, holding their hands up.

“Why should I believe you?” The girl’s hands wandered across the forest floor until the closed around a branch lying next to her. Though fear twisted her face, she held the branch in front of her like a sword.

Dandelion cocked their head to the side, a smile flickering over their face. This girl was brave. Most lost people were, but there was something about her…something other. Something elder.

“You can believe me, because I can’t lie.”

“You’re not human.” The girl’s gaze wandered over Dandelion. They could nearly feel how her eyes raked over his claws that were just a little too sharp to pass as human, over their blonde locks that nearly had the colour of the flower they had named themselves after; the name yet another fruitless attempt to become more than they were. They were so close to being human. Still, despite centuries searching, they hadn’t found the right them yet. Not in this life and not in any that had come before.

“I am not,” they admitted and the words tasted like ash on their tongue. Always ash. Always fire and ambers. And yet, nothing more than a small sting that would pass when the life engulfed them in another embrace. Another chance.

“Then what are you?”

Dandelion lowered themselves to the ground, until they were at eye level with the girl. Carefully, they reached out their hand, an offer, an invitation.

“I am a Home for the Lost. Another Chance.”

“I am not lost!” The girl sprang to her feet without warning, gripping the branch tighter. “I know where I’m going. I’m…I’m looking for someone.”

“And someone’s looking for you, I assume?”

The girl bit her lip while her eyes darted to the side again, scanning the trees as if whoever she was running from could jump out and attack her at any moment.

“You don’t have to be afraid,” Dandelion repeated. “You can be lost here for as long as you need to be.”

“What if I don’t want to be lost?”

Dandelion gave her a smile that they knew couldn’t reach their eyes. “Then I can keep you safe until you’re found again.”

“But you’re not him. The one who’s supposed to protect me.” The girl’s breath hitched. “Are you? You’re not Geralt of Rivia.”

Dandelion drew in a deep breath, tasting the name on their tongue as they inhaled. Their eyes fluttered close as the power of the name surged through them.

“I’m not,” Dandelion agreed. It wasn’t a lie. And yet, they felt a part of Geralt of Rivia’s being taking root within him. His name was theirs. His winding path, his doubts, his destiny. His losses. “But he will come here. I promise you that.”

“How can you? Have you seen him in these woods? I didn’t know he was in Brokilon forest.”

“This isn’t Brokilon forest. It stopped being that when I found you. And it doesn’t matter where Geralt of Rivia is. Not yet.” A breeze ruffled through the trees, whispering its secrets to its master. “He will be here. All woods lead here, when you go deep enough. When you get lost enough.”

If there was one certainty that pulsed through the name like a heartbeat, it was that Geralt of Rivia was lost, more than anyone Dandelion knew of. Except, of course, for the one person that Dandelion didn’t have the power to guide back to their right path. The one person who was given chance after chance after chance for a new start and yet never found their way out of the maze they were trapped in.

“He will come.” Their promise tasted like lightning and the soothing melody of a bubbling river. “You will be his second chance. Until then, let me be yours. I will keep you safe.”

The girl hesitated a moment longer. Then, she dropped the branch and flung herself into Dandelion’s arms, desperate not to be lost again.

Dandelion’s held her tightly, rapped his shadowy cloak around her and whispered soothingly into her hair. The embrace was like the feeling of when the fire stopped. At least that was how Dandelion imagined it must feel, when there were no flames coursing through their veins.

But they couldn’t truly know. After all, everyone was in this forest was lost in one way or another.

--

‘The girl in the woods will be with you always’

Renfri’s words echoed in Geralt’s mind as he limped onwards through the trees, ignoring the worried calls of the man who had taken him with him on his cart.

Geralt couldn’t waste a single moment longer by staying with him and his wife. His child surprise was out there somewhere, waiting for him. And Geralt…Geralt didn’t know what to do. He had to find her, had to make sure she was safe.

Yet he had no way of knowing where she even was, or if she was still alive. It was a miracle Geralt himself wasn’t dead yet.

You can be lost here.

Geralt’s head snapped up, his eyes darting across the trees sharply.

“Who’s there?” He called out. A mistake he wouldn’t have done if his mind had been clear and not muddled by ghoul poison.

For a long moment, there was no reply. Ever so slowly, Geralt tore his eyes from the darkness that lurked behind the trees. That’s when a different echo reached him.

Not Geralt of Rivia.

This voice sounded younger. Child-like.

“Ciri.” The name was but a breath on his lips, but he knew it in his heart to be true. Somehow, this voice was Ciri’s.

His staggering steps got faster, until he nearly ran. Geralt didn’t care about how the movement tore at his wound, how twigs whipped into his face, how his breath became shallow as black spots danced before his eyes.

He was urged onwards by the unbending certainty that Ciri was near, that he would finally find her.

People linked by destiny would always find each other.

But there was something else as well. A wildfire in his chest, a strand of shadow tugging him onward.

Geralt of Rivia.

The echo of his name rang through the woods, through the air and the inside of his head. Two voices. Ciri’s – and another one. A voice that sent shivers down Geralt’s spine.

The repeat of his name turned into a melody. A lullaby. A siren’s call.

Every instinct in him screamed to turn back, to get himself to safety. But instincts had been beaten out of him a long time ago.

His instinct had told him that his mother would take care of him.

His instinct had told him that he was loved.

His instinct had told him that there was nothing he could lose by calling upon the law of surprise.

But, oh, how he had lost. His mother, the woman he had thought he had loved, the certainty that he could keep walking the path that had been his only guidance since Vesemir had taken him to Kaer Morhen.

Geralt had lost, again and again, until he had become lost himself.

His chest became tight and he had to squeeze his eyes shut against the pressure building behind his eyes.

He was lost.

And yet he had no choice but to keep going. A haunting lullaby and his name on the wind forbid him from turning back.

He tried to orient himself on the rays of sun shining through the canopy of too-green leaves. Desperate to reach a path or a person that would make him not-lost again, Geralt ran until his breath turned into pants and his muscles protested. Witchers didn’t tire so easily. If need be, Geralt could fight for hours, stay up for days. Yet, no matter how much his body ached and protested, claiming it had been hours, days, weeks, the sun remained in his spot, never moving, as if no time was passing.

Geralt’s lungs were burning and the pain in his leg flared up with every step, until there were no more steps to take.

His knees gave out from under him and he collapsed, falling to his hands and knees onto the grass, the blades of which looked sharp as a sword but felt soft beneath his hands. Like a pillow to lay down on. Like an embrace. Like a home.

Witchers had no home. They only had the path, and yet, looking at this strange forest with its whispers and stagnant sun, Geralt had not even this.

“I am lost,” He called out, an act of pure desperation that never before had he allowed himself to admit to. His voice was raspy and scratched at his throat like shards of glass. As if he hadn’t uttered a single word for weeks.

Lost.

The haunting reply came in his own voice. A chill raced down Geralt’s spine and his fingers fisted into the grass, desperate to cling to something.

“I don’t know the way.”

Away.

An unshakable fear seized Geralt. He didn’t care how his voice broke, how his body was already broken.

“I need help.”

Witchers didn’t need help. They didn’t beg. And if they ever did, their pleas would go unheard.

Not so Geralt’s.

Something snapped to his right. He winced, his hand instinctively reaching for his silver sword. The medallion on his chest vibrated furiously.

He pushed himself to his feet, trembling with the effort, but unwilling to be on his knees like a condemned man waiting for his executioner.

The snapping of twigs and rustling of leaves stopped for a moment, a quiet laugh that sounded like water tumbling over rocks replaced the sounds.

“I found you.”

Geralt stiffened. It was the same voice as the first whisper he had heard – the voice that had lured him here. Only this time, it wasn’t a whisper on the wind. It was very real and far too close for comfort.

Witchers didn’t receive help. Whatever had answered his call must have darker intentions.

“Show yourself!” Geralt demanded, gripping his sword tighter.

For a moment, everything went still. No more whispers, no lullaby, not even the rustling of leaves in the wind.

Then, the bushes to Geralt’s right parted and someone stepped through. No, not someone. Something.

The creature in front of him looked how someone who had only ever seen a human’s shadow might imagine a human to look like. The being walking towards him was taller than any human could be, towering over Geralt. Their limbs were too long.

When their lips parted for a smile, the rows of teeth in them were sharp as a wolf’s.

“What are you?” The question left Geralt before he could think better of it.

The being cocked their head to the side curiously, too-blue eyes wandering over Geralt’s body, as if they didn’t even notice the sword pointed at them.

“I’m the Second Chance,” the being said, their eyes flashing with something Geralt didn’t dare name. “Yours, if you want me to be.”

“Who else’s second chance are you?” The question didn’t make sense, but Geralt had no control over his tongue. There was something about this creature – person? – that urged him to say things he didn’t understand. It was as if deep down, he already knew the answer, as if a part of him had known this person for a long time.

The being didn’t reply, but they raised their hands to their side and brushed lovingly over something. The air flickered in front of Geralt’s eyes, making him nauseous and dizzy, yet when he tried to look closer, he could only see shadow behind the creature. Until they flicked a hand behind them and the shadows parted, revealing a smaller figure. A girl with blonde hair that stared at Geralt with big green eyes.

Geralt sucked in a sharp breath.

It was Ciri. The one who had been lost to him.

And she was standing behind a creature powerful enough to lure even a witcher in. A creature who now placed a clawed hand on Ciri’s shoulder – the shoulder of the girl Geralt was sworn to protect.

“Let her go.” The demand left Geralt’s lips like a beast’s snarl.

“Go?” The being’s eyes flashed dangerously. “I made a promise to keep her with me. I don’t let any lost soul go.”

Their eyes bore into Geralt’s, searching through his soul, laying bare everything he was.

A boy, lost and abandoned by his mother.

A man who had lost a fight with the woman he thought he had loved – losing the fight, losing her, losing what he had been so sure had been love.

A human, who had lost his humanity.

Geralt, who was nothing but lost.

And there in front of him stood a creature who kept lost souls. The being sucked in a deep breath, closing their eyes as if they could taste all of Geralt’s losses.

They would keep him. Him and Ciri, damned forever to wander this cursed forest in which time stood still and echoes whispered into his heart.

He couldn’t let that come to pass. Not for Ciri.

Geralt knew his life was lost as well, even as he swung his sword. It didn’t matter. He had to save Ciri, had to get her out of this creature’s grasp.

There was a cry when his blade pierced the being’s chest. Was it his own cry or Ciri’s? Was the whole forest screaming as its master fell to their knees? There was only one voice who didn’t join the cry of agony. One, who was deadly silent, as life drained from it.

Blue eyes shot open, staring at the blade buried in the being’s chest with curiosity that quickly turned into resignation. For but a heartbeat, fear flickered in the being’s expression.

Fire blazed in those blue eyes. Fire poured forth from the wound instead of blood. Fire came to life in the being’s hair, searing the dandelion-yellow strands and racing over their body until all that was left of them was dancing flames.

Geralt watched in horror, as the flesh turned to ash before his very eyes. No, not ash. Dandelion seeds.

The wind picked up, tearing at Geralt’s hair, pushing him away, making the dandelion seeds tumble through the air in a wild dance.

Leaves tore from the trees, yellow flower petals, bits and pieces of the forest. All was dancing through the air, forming shapes and breaking apart again. The grass that had been so soft a moment before, shot up, grew faster and higher than any plant could, forming the shape of legs, of a torso, of a head. And still the leaves whirled through the air, obscuring the sight to the body that formed right in front of Geralt’s eyes.

A pit opened in Geralt’s stomach and the realisation of what this meant crashed into him with the force of a cockatrice slamming into its prey.

The being wasn’t dead. But it was only a matter of time before Geralt was, dying at the hand of the creature he couldn’t kill.

Geralt’s sword slipped out of his limp grasp, landing on the ground with a soft thud.

Geralt followed a moment after, his knees hitting the ground once more. This time, his executioner wouldn’t hesitate.

Geralt couldn’t protect his child surprise. Not in the years to come. But there was one thing he could do in this moment, one last act of desperation to save a life that he had always been meant to guard with his own.

“I make you a bargain!” Geralt’s voice got drowned in the howling of the wind, and yet, the ever-changing shape of the being turned towards him. Geralt’s throat went dry, his chest tightening. “My life for hers.” Through the whirlwind of leaves and blossoms, Geralt met Ciri’s gaze. Her eyes were wide and terrified. She was his to save. “Take my life and give the girl back hers. Let her go.”

Geralt bowed his head, awaiting judgement. For failing Ciri. For failing Vesemir and not being able to kill this creature. For failing himself. For losing, just when he had finally found the girl he had been looking for.

The wind didn’t falter, yet it changed course. The petals drew closer together, reaching towards Geralt like a hand.

A soft touch brushed his chin, tilting his head upwards, forcing him to look at the swirling shapes before him.

Though the being had no lips yet, their voice was clear and crushingly loud, coming from all around him. Every tree, every blade of grass, the very air spoke with the being’s voice. “Oh, but I don’t even care about my own life, why would I care about yours?”

Despite the roaring volume, the voice was achingly soft, like sweet nothings whispered in Geralt’s ear. The petals brushed Geralt’s cheek like a lover’s caress.

Geralt’s heart pounded in his chest, like a drum, growing faster each second, it’s rhythm dictated by the song that made this creature be.

“There must be something – how can a life be meaningless to you?” Geralt’s voice broke and his eyes flickered over to Ciri again. The child he hadn’t wanted. The life he had tried to push as far from his path as he could.

A sharp sound pierced the air, reverberating in Geralt’s bones. Only when it cut off abruptly, did Geralt recognise it. A laugh, devoid of life or joy.

“I am a phoenix, my dear.” The endearment cut into Geralt, broke him apart, made him wish that he could be more – that he could be found. “Death is just an insect to me – it stings, but has no lasting effect.”

“Liar.” The rasped out word cut through the symphony of sound.

Within the blink of an eye, everything around him stilled. The wind was still moving the petals and leaves. The being’s shape was still changing, and yet, there was no sound. Nothing, but Geralt’s own heartbeat and his blood rushing in his ears.

Then-

“What did you call me?”

It was only a single voice, within Geralt’s mind. A helpless desperation clung to it. A hunger.

“I called you a liar.”

“I cannot lie.”

Geralt’s jaw clenched and he forced himself to stare up at the swirling shape.

“Then you are a fool, if you truly believe your own words.” His hands trembled and he had to clench them into fists. Each word he spoke, dug his own grave deeper and yet, he couldn’t stop. It was as if there was something tying him to this creature, something telling him that he could know them, just as he was certain the creature knew him. “If death is like the sting of an insect to you, then it is more than just a passing irritation. Adults still remember when they had been stung by a bee as a child. Warriors flinch back from wasps, even knowing the stinging will pass. Gnat’s bites will itch for weeks.”

“Pretty words for a man who had first used his sword before attempting to speak. Yet the cut of your words hurts me as little as your sword did.” The caress of the petals left Geralt and he nearly found himself following their receding touch. “I do not care for my death, nor do I for my life.”

“Then why am I still alive? If life and death doesn’t matter to you, then why did you not just end mine?”

Unless…

I don’t even care about my own life, why would I care about yours?

They had never said they didn’t care about Geralt’s life. It had been a question – unable to either be a lie or a truth.

The only life they didn’t care about was their own.

It didn’t make sense. And yet, as minutes, days, an eternity passed and the being still hadn’t taken on a new shape, a vessel for their new life, no doubt was left in Geralt’s mind.

“Then let me give you something else,” Geralt whispered, his mind racing. In the stories, the creatures entrapping children in their realm and bargaining for their lives only ever wanted one thing. “If you let her go, I will give you my name.”

Something changed in the air. An almost palpable tension pressed down on Geralt, making it hard to notice anything around him but the dancing petals.

“Oh, my White Wolf.” The name the being spoke wasn’t Geralt’s name, and yet Geralt felt a tugging in his chest, a soothing caress, a gentle promise. It felt like his. And it felt like the being’s. “I already have your name.”

“Then what do you want? What…” Geralt trailed off, only now noticing the hint of something heavy in the being’s voice. It had Geralt’s name. Yet, Geralt had no way of referring to the creature. He didn’t know them. Perhaps no one did. “Then I give you permission to tell me your name. You may let me get to know you. You may ask to not be…to not be lost without anyone knowing who you are.”

Yearning. Hope. Helplessness.

How a being without a form could make their emotions so apparent, was beyond Geralt, but there was no denying it. The air felt lighter, the grass brighter and the silence was replaced by a soft humming, not unlike the lullaby Geralt had heard earlier. The forest was pulsating like a heart, was living off of the being’s longing to be found.

“I can’t give you my name,” the being said. “I can’t ask of you to hear it. I don’t want you to know it. I care not for my life, nor any life I’ve lived before.”

Something rose in Geralt’s chest. A fluttering, a certainty.

People linked by destiny would always find each other. This wasn’t destiny. It wasn’t any outside force pushing them together. It was two people being lost, finding each other.

Two creatures, inhuman in their own way, feared by those who didn’t understand with no one to care enough about who they were. Neither of them had had a choice in who they wanted to become. Neither of them had chosen to be lost as they were.

The witcher, who’s name had been replaced by a hated moniker. People didn’t know him as Geralt. He was the Butcher of Blaviken.

And this being before him - this Second Chance? Who had they been? Who could they have been if they had the chance to start a life that wasn’t dictated by what they were meant to be?

“I can be your second chance,” Geralt prayed that he could be what he promised, knowing in his heart that he could. “If you won’t take my name and won’t tell me yours… I can give you a name. A new life that will be more than an itch left by an insect. More than the fear of that short sting that will end it.”

The yellow petals were back on Geralt’s face, cupping his cheeks almost reverently. In that moment, Geralt wasn’t a condemned man on the execution block anymore. He was a man on his knees, asking another being to start a new life, to bind them together in a way that felt utterly right for a reason Geralt couldn’t understand.

There was a plea in the silent touch.

“Tell it to me then.” The voice was quieter than it had been before, yet it felt more urgent than the loudest cry.

Geralt lifted his hand, laying it carefully onto the petals touching his cheeks. Yellow petals. Not tough like a dandelion forcing its way through stone paths, set on coming back to life again and again. No, these petals were different. Softer. Fragile.

“Jaskier,” Geralt said, his voice laced with power he hadn’t known it could possess. Louder, he repeated, “Jaskier. I have found you. You are no longer lost.”

A tremble went through the forest. The wind stilled, but the petals didn’t fall to the ground. Instead, they finally settled on a shape.

The petals caressing Geralt’s cheeks were the first to turn, their touch becoming more solid, warmer, human.

Geralt pressed into the touch, holding the hand that formed in his. Dizziness swept over him as the form before him solidified. Green leaves turned brown as they did in autumn and turned into hair. Petals became red and gave shape to a mouth that was stretched into a radiant smile. Grass turned into fabric, dressing the person whose life was just beginning in an embroidered doublet. A tree bent down, its bark peeling off and turning into an instrument, that the person deftly caught in one hand, the other never straying from Geralt’s face.

Then, the human opened their eyes. Blue again but lacking the eerie otherness. And yet, they were brighter than before, so full of life and for once filled with anticipation of what this life would bring.

This life that Geralt had given them.

Before Geralt stood no longer a phoenix, a creature with no name. They were their own second chance. They were Jaskier.

Even as Ciri rushed from behind Jaskier and flung herself into Geralt’s arms, the witcher couldn’t tear his eyes away from Jaskier.

The new human looked at Ciri with a fond expression on their face, and yet there was a strain around their eyes.

When their gazes met, Jaskier’s lips tugged into a small smile.

“I guess I kept my promise then,” they said in a voice that held no power, but made Geralt’s heart skip a beat nonetheless. “I kept he safe until she was found.”

Geralt’s brows drew together. “You intended to let her go? Then why –“

“I didn’t bargain her life,” Jaskier said softly. “She was free to go whenever she pleased. I – I wasn’t. You gave me my life and I give it back to you. If you want it.”

Without thinking, Geralt shook his head and tightened his arms around Ciri.

“I don’t want your life. It is yours.”

“Oh.”

Jaskier’s lips moved silently, forming the word ‘mine’, as if testing it out for the first time. A smile lit up their face, making their eyes brighter.

“If my life is mine, does that mean, I can choose where I want to go?”

Something twisted in Geralt’s chest at those words. “You are.” Had Jaskier only ever known this forest? If so… “Do you know any place besides this? Will you…if you leave on your own, will you get lost again?”

A gleam entered Jaskier’s eyes and they slung the strap of their lute around their neck, their fingers finding the strings of their new lute.

“I won’t,” they said, their face set in conviction. “Because if I get to choose where I am going, I will be following you, Geralt of Rivia, my White Wolf.”

Unlike before, there was no power to the way Jaskier spoke his name.

“White Wolf?”

Jaskier’s lips twitched and he plucked a couple of chords experimentally. “You have me a new name. If you don’t want my life, the least I can do is return the favour and give you a new one two. A name, people won’t curse. One that will no longer belong to a lost man.”

No longer a Butcher. No longer a mutant, bastard, monster!

Slowly, Geralt nodded. “A life for a life, then.”

“A life for a life.” Jaskier’s expression softened. “A name for a name.”

Two lost people finding each other, silently promising each other to do everything in their power to not let the other get lost again.

[sopxhiea]

Lush

Alfie Solomons X Reader

Summary: Alfie finds himself in a party thrown in a finishing school that teaches ladies how to be proper in all senses of the world but a rare jewel of a wild young woman catches his eye.

“Sorry, is that supposed to impress me?”

Gold and silk.

It’s on the walls, coated in layers of sparkly paint as light reflects to the silk curtains. It’s on the tables, dozens of champagne bottles resting on top of the finest silk material while the sweet classical music fills the marble walls. The place reeks of the posh and their extravagant perfumes.

Alfie’s forcefully brought to the occasion.

Miriam, the old woman who’s appreciative of Alfie’s donations to the community, had decided that it was time for the man to make more public appearances. She’d forced the grumpy man into the crowd and the fancy outing as a way of branching out to the rest of the community for the Jews.

The night is organised by a bunch of English community elders for the new women’s school opened up right around the corner. It’s easy to recognise their pupils, all of them dressed properly as they greet as many guests as they can. Young ladies are all over the room, their lavish dresses flowing around their legs as they flash their kindest smiles to the people around.

Except you.

Accident, fate or bad luck. It was one of the three that had caused you to end up in the said school. Apparently, you weren’t a proper lady and also happened to lack the ability to act your age, or so you had been told after climbing a tree with your friend to get your hands on the fruit it so graciously had blessed you with.

It didn’t bother you in the slightest but there you were now, standing in a room full of bourgeoisie in a slim dress tailored by one of the maids who worked for the house you stayed in. Unlike all your other classmates, your face is absent of any smiles and the only thing that leaves your lips are snarky remarks.

Annabelle, who also happens to be your etiquette teacher, pinches your arms every now and then to either get you to act properly or to shut you up but it doesn’t work. You know her harsh movements are bound to create bruises on your arms but you don’t care, you hate every moment of the forced event.

You’re the odd one out, naturally.

Although you’re dressed properly with fine jewels and silk gloves, your fake laugh does not fill the air. You’re sulking, almost, as you listen to one of the elderly man talk about his business to your friends and you while you stand around. 

The crowd is made up of women with rich men on their arms, just what your uncle wanted you to be when he had put you in the school two months ago. They’re wearing their finest dresses, most of their hairs are kept in a short form as they plaster smiles on their paint covered faces, nails painted with vibrant colours while they laugh at a stupid joke the rich makes.

And there’s him.

He doesn’t stand out per se, just when you manage to observe him for a while. He’s wearing a suit much like everyone else in the room but there’s something rough about him, something rugged as you stare at the broad man. He has an elderly woman on his arm, she’s talking his ear off while his eyes roam around the spacious room. 

You don’t look away when his blue orbs meet yours.

He’s watched you all night and although you’d been sulking for most of the time, he still thought that you were the most beautiful woman he’d seen in a long while. He’d seen you make smart remarks towards some of the gentlemen, putting them in their place before you would walk to the bar to get some relief.

But this time, there’s a gentle smile on your lips.

He feels his breath get caught on his throat but he’s quick to recover while your gaze returns to the boring old man in front of you. Your dress is similar to the ones the girls are wearing but it hugs your body a little tighter, a fine pearl necklace graces your neck. Your hair is not short, opposed to most of the women around, but kept in wavy shape as it creates a frame around your soft features.

You seem like the youngest of them all.

But you also happen to be the wildest. In the last two months of you being there, all you’d caused was trouble. You’d not sleep and climb out of windows to disappear for a day or two. Your uncle would bring you back with a frown on his old face but you’d find a way to make trouble and piss the ladies off again. It was the only fun thing to do around the house you were kept in.

“It was very lovely to talk to you about your boring business.” you speak to the elderly man who’d been talking for the past hour with you and your friends, a smile rests on your painted lips. The man frowns at your words and is about to speak up when you wave at him and disappear towards the bar once again.

Alfie watches you as you move.

Your painted lips that had just been faking a smile now greet the transparent material of the crystal that holds the liquor you so badly need. You take a couple sips, a sheepish smirk on your lips as you feel someone approaching you from behind. You can tell who it is, his steps aren’t the most subtle or rhythmic.

Your small figure turns around swiftly turns around to face the pleasant stranger, a contagious smile on your lips as you look at him from head to toe. He sees the glint of wickedness swimming around in your orbs and he’s sure you’re the girl every cockney has been trying to get their hands on.

Alfie’s heard of a young woman who just won’t behave. As far as he’s concerned, most people think she should be married off to some boring bloke but the uncle won’t let them do it and he’s the only family she’s got. He’s heard of the wild dancing, the kind of moves that are nothing but filth and also the countless times of the escapes she’s made.

And there you are, the infamous wild lady, standing right in front of him.

“Hello, Mister.” you say, amused as you giggle at him. He copies your expression, a low smile on his lips while you feel his smell take over you, vanilla and rum.

“’ello to yourself, Miss.” he speaks, accent dripping from each word as you watch him, he’s even more handsome up close.

Your eyes drift along his tall form, he’s still tall even though you have your heels on. Your gaze lingers on his white shirt, it’s not as smooth as it was when he came in, or so you figure. He’s dressed sharp, his facial hair kept in a nice shape as the golden wires glisten underneath the many candles and chandeliers around. You don’t bother and be subtle as your eyes drink him but he’s doing the same to you.

You chuckle lowly as he takes a sip of the drink you’re holding, it’s much too strong but you’re only getting started.

“You, yeah, are makin’ quite the noise today.” he speaks, not a swear word within the sentence since he’s being proper for the occasion.

“As per usual.” you say, a sweet smile on your lips while you lean on the wall and he hovers tall above you, his face inching a little closer each time he speaks. “Interested?” you speak, wanting him to say yes because he seems to be the only one worth spending time with around here.

“I ain’t answering to that, love.” he says, head shaking at his own words and you watch him under the pleasant light as they create shadows around his face, he’s far too good looking for a bloke with his reputation.

Your eyes drop to his hand, decorated with lines and bands of rings and a crown tattoo, the rough skin makes you smile as your soft fingers trace his. His eyes flutter, the slow song filling the night and flowing out of the spacious house you’re both standing in. You blink a few times, seeing the glint of thrill in his eyes as you stare and stare, the night is long.

But your patience is non-existent.

“You’re no fun, Mister.” your words are barely audible as they leave your lips and he knows you’re teasing, his eyes flutter once more as a small whine leaves your lips and it’s all it takes for him to be envisioning your naked frame, although he’s already done it multiple times up until that point.

You try to be sweeter, appeal to his good nature to get what you want. You know that if a lady from the school is to leave today, with a gentlemen on her arm, it is allowed and you see it as your exit ticket to never return to the hell of a place. Your hands trace the head of his cane, feeling the cold material contrast the warmth of his hands. “What shall I call you?” you ask, danger swimming in your orbs.

“Name’s Solomons, luv.” he speaks, knowing that he needs to be proper and that means saving his name for the more intimate part of the conversation but you don’t seem pleased with the consideration from his part.

“No.” you speak, like a whiny girl and he thinks you’re the most charming whiny girl he’s seen but he waits for your painted lips to part and the sound of your sweet voice. “I knew that. Tell me what you like to be called.” you speak, voice smooth as silk as it delivers the words. He wonders what your voice would sound like if his head was between your soft legs.

There’s evident evil in your eyes but he’s drawn to it, like moth to a flame.

You half expect for him to tell you something absurd. This isn’t something you ask other people but in the rare occasion that you play with fire, the answers have been nothing but disappointing. They’d told you to call them baby, husband or sweetheart.

How pathetic, you thought.

“Alfie.” he speaks, voice low as his eyes don’t leave yours. A smile finds your lips and he stops himself from leaning in and kissing them.

“That’s a very good name.” you speak, satisfied for the first time in a while with a man’s answer. They seem too dull to you, most men are shallow and simply daft but this one seems to shine on you. 

“Fuckin’ flattering old me.” he speaks, amused as he shakes his head and clicks his tongue. You’re far too young for him but that doesn’t seem to occur to you as you ogle him.

“Old?” you speak into his face, your perfume surrounding him as you play with his crisp shirt. He’s close to kissing you senseless but he figures Miriam wants him to act proper for the event. “I don’t think so.” you speak again, answering your own question and he watches the light flicker on your face.

“What is a pretty little bird like you doin’ in the corner?” he speaks, breath almost fanning your face while you almost lose yourself in the smell of him. He seems promising thus far.

You look up at him with an open mouth, seeing as he’s interested. Your agape mouth turns to a smile soon after, this victim of yours seems like a proper gentlemen. The truth was, you didn’t really belong there from the start, it was your uncle’s masterplan since your deceased parents were far too gone to do anything. You’d be a proper lady and the school would tame you down, get you a goodie two shoes husband and let you be on your best way.

But you weren’t the little gentle kid they were expecting.

Trouble made life worth living, there was no fun in the four walls you slept in most days and occasions like these were your ticket for the exit. You knew you’d have to tell the head of the class that you’re leaving with a gentlemen but that’s the point of the occasion, to make sure the girls get to know the people around and maybe even snag a husband of their own.

“Talking to you.” you speak, eyes looking up at the tall, handsome man as he sizes you up. He’s already made up his mind to donate a good amount of money to your school solely because of you.

“Ya’ know who I am, lass?” he speaks, no swearing induced with his words because he sees just how young you are, even though you look younger than you are.

“You just told me. Mr.Solomons.” you whisper against his face, voice breathy as his eyes threaten to flutter. 

But you barely have a clue.

“I, yeah, am a bad fuckin’ man, luv.” he speaks, eyes locked into yours as his face moves. You watch the way his lips shift with each word and a blush rises on your cheeks. You giggle against his face this time, the music in the room constantly changes its melody.

“Sorry, is that supposed to impress me?” your voice is filled with amusement and laughter. It’s not like you’ve asked him to fuck you or take you home, not just yet. 

He looks at you with wide eyes, taken aback by the bravery of such a little thing. You don’t have an ounce of fear in your eyes as you smile up at him and he speaks before you can.

“I don’t think, right, you want to be seen with me, luv.” he says, very aware of the fact that half of the room have been watching you and Alfie for the last hour. But you’ve already been seen with him, so you see no sense in what he’s saying.

“Nonsense.” you speak, the reply is almost automatic and you don’t break eye contact.

He chuckles, it’s low and you’re sure it would be impossible to hear if you weren’t standing so close. You hear his deep voice as he shakes his head. “Fuckin’ hell.”

“You’re the only one worth talking to in this goddamn party.” you whisper without realising it. You don’t intend on telling the gentlemen that but the sparks in his eyes when you change your mind.

Fancy events like this did not interest you, you wanted something real. It didn’t excite you that the carpets in the venue were brought from Milan or that the fine silk curtains were hand-made, you wanted things to be real, raw and not pretentious like all the posh souls were making it out to be. Alfie saw that, mostly because he felt the same way.

You wanted to run away from this place, to talk with someone about the possibilities of what the night had in stock for you and walk on the pavement with bare feet and listen to their laugh and ask them what they really thought of the place they were put in.

Alfie saw that in your eyes, you were young after all.

While you fiddled with your freshly painted nails and tried to ignore the obnoxious color the maid had chosen for you, you let him size you up. You were dangerous in the most complex ways but he liked that, he worked inside danger anyway.

“Say, luv..” he spoke, the pet name making your eyes flutter as he looked down at your small form. You didn’t look out of place here in the fancy venue but it was clear to him that you felt that way. “Do ya’ dance?”

Alfie didn’t dance, that was easy to tell and you weren’t a big fan of slow dancing either, too much intimacy was packed up in it for you. “Only If I like the gentlemen who asks me.” you spat out, true and honest as he watched you like a hawk.

But before he could even get to say anything, Miriam appeared out of thin air. She had been watching Alfie for the past hour as he made conversation with the one girl Miriam hoped he’d stay away from. Her eyes were glistening with excitement and anger, all packed up in giant orbs as she stared at you with a smile.

Alfie cleared his throat when he realised the lady had come in and needed to be introduced. Your posture clearly straightened while he started to speak, uninterested but the deed had to be done so she would leave.

“This is Miriam.” Alfie muttered, almost like a little kid who didn’t want to do it but he soon realised you hadn’t told him your name. His eyes met yours as you looked at the lady next to him and she spoke up at last.

“And who is this lovely lady?” Miriam spoke, voice a little deeper than you’d expect but it suited her. You smiles and took her hand, shaking it like how businessman shook each others’ hands and Alfie smiled at your tomboyish attitude.

“Y/N.” you spoke softly, subtly looking at Alfie direction when he muttered your name under his breath. It sounded right.

“Oh! What a lovely name!” she exclaimed, making you giggle at her excitement for such a normal part of the conversation. You nodded at his words and thanked her like you’d been taught to do.

“Thank you. That’s very kind.” you spoke, a fake smile plastered on your lips while Alfie watched you under a heavy stare, you were perfectly conversing with the lady but it was obvious you wanted to be your own self.

“You two have been talking for quite a while. You don’t mind if I steal Mr. Solomons for a while, do you, dear?” she spoke, almost testing you but you had been trained by the best to not show any emotion. You nodded and smiled, realising that you were a little further down from the bar.

“Of course not.” your words were forced but the lady wouldn’t notice. You shot Alfie a charming smile before the lady dragged him to meet a couple new investors for the Jewish community. It wasn’t like they needed them, but Miriam thought that it was only natural for him to meet people who’d do the same thing as he was doing in terms of donations.

------

The venue was now filled with music, the lively kind. All the couples were tired from the endless slow dancing with the music they had put on so you had finessed the perfect plan to seduce the man who handled the live musicians and although all you had given him was a precious smile, he had started playing tunes you could easily dance at your request.

Most of the girls from your class were now on the dance floor, dancing the day away in the most proper way possible with more than two dozen young men around. No matter how big the opportunity was for them, most of them looked stiff as they moved to the music. They didn’t quite know how to move their bodies in a way that would make men their slave yet and seeing as that was what you were currently doing, you grabbed one of the girls and began teaching her slowly.

Alfie had been talking to a businessman who owned a few casinos up town. He was new to the world of being a gangster but the man seemed speakable enough for him to endure a fifteen minute conversation before he heard familiar giggles overlapping with the music that was being played.

And there you were.

You were an expert at getting yourself in trouble as far as Alfie could tell and the way you moved to the music was the sole proof of the fact. Your body moved to the rhythm, the kind of sways coming from your hips that would be enough to have any man floored if only you’d ask. Miriam watched as Alfie gulped at the sight, he was in deep trouble.

But one tug at his sleeve and he was back to normal.

He ignored the smile on your lips as your drunken state moved to the upbeat song, you were a little too fragile for any man around that night. Tonight was supposed to be about everyone getting to go home with a man on their arm, the sole purpose was to find the grown girls someone to tie their knot with so that the school could invite younger ones.

But you were sure you’d be the last to go.

Men liked to look at you, there was the innocence of a doll mixed with the deadly sins inside your small frame and that was enchanting but it wasn’t enough to keep them interested for the rest of their lives. You were stubborn and didn’t behave like a proper lady should, or so that was what you’d heard since you were a small girl. 

So you found no point in trying to act like one.

An hour passed in what felt like the blink of an eye and you stumbled on your way to the big sofa in the corner of the room. Some of your classmates were already gone with men in their arms to keep them company through the night and you had a look around to see who you could entice.

And to your surprise, the pleasant stranger was still here.

He had been watching you for the last hour with the old lady in his arm. She usually talked about giving back to the community and Alfie was all for that but there was something that kept pulling him to you. He had watched as you eyed every person in the room until your eyes landed on him, a small smile playing at your lips and he realised you weren’t as drunk as he thought you were.

That wasn’t you being drunk, it was you being nothing but trouble.

“May I?” your voice was soft against the air while you tried to get to the whiskey on the table but Alfie was blocking your access. You had walked graciously towards him before that and he was sure you wanted something.

“No fucking way.” he spoke under his breath and your eyebrows shot up at the words. He was amusing after all. 

While he blocked your hands from reaching the whiskey bottle, you shot him an innocent look and he felt as though he was playing with something a little bigger than himself.

“Why?” you asked with a dash of threat lying under. You could make this moment very difficult for him but it went both ways. 

“You, yeah, are too fuckin’ young to even be here, luv...” he speaks and you watch the way his eyes drink you up. You’re too young for drinking but now young enough to keep his eyes to himself, apparently. “...let alone be dancin’ the way you were.” he finishes his sentence and your amused chuckle fills his ears. It’s not what he expects to hear.

“Liked something you saw?” you ask, daring as you look into his eyes. He chuckles, he’s clearly taken aback.

He shakes his head instead of answering. Most of the people around are gone with their gentlemen and the party will be over soon, you figure you’ll be going to the cold bed you woke up in. He catches the faint sign of disappointment on your face and he’s smart enough to put two and two together.

But you seem far too dangerous for a man like him, he thinks.

Before he can answer your question, Annabelle comes around with a plastered smile and starts speaking in the tone you hate so much.

“Y/N! The party is over, dear. You best be on your way to your room.” she speaks, sizing Alfie up along the way. You huff and stare at the old lady. You didn’t think the party was a grand idea anyway.

“Alright.” you speak, knowing she won’t like it and Alfie enjoys the way a hint of smile plays on your lips while Annabelle turns furious for a second.

“What have I taught you?” she says, composing herself in front of the guest and Alfie watches the whole thing play out.

“Yes, Miss.” you say with a fake smile but you’re far from done. They both hear the words as you mutter them under your breath. “Your wish is my command.”

Alfie can’t help but laugh.

You know Annabelle won’t let this go but she smiles at the guest as a sign of kindness, something she hasn’t shown you in your time around here. Alfie turns to you to see the horror in your eyes and he can tell it’s because of the old grumpy lady who keeps bugging you.

And he decides to be the gentlemen.

You’re about to say goodnight and go to your room but he speaks up first to Annabelle, you don’t protest when his hand grabs your small one and caresses it while speaking.

“Actually, this one right here, yeah, will accompany me for the rest of the evenin’..” he speaks and catches the way your eyes light up but he’s composed while the old lady looks at you first and then looks at Alfie.

She’s sure it’ll be a disaster.

“Of course.” she says, wanting to get rid of you as fast as she can.

You watch her leave and Alfie’s hand engulfs your small one in the process. With stars in your eyes, you return to the kind gentlemen but he’s fast to speak before you can thank him. “We best be on our way, lass.”

And he leaves with you on his arm, unaware of the things the night has in stock for the both of you.

----

Tagging: @clairecrive  @parkbearum @sourirez  @vetseras​ @mollybegger-blog @babylooneytoonz @peakascum

a/n: I know i have been inactive but i have one more week of school before the winter break so i’ll be better, I promise!! and please let me know what you thought or/and if you’d like to be tagged!! <3 Happy december!

[dingdonghyvck]

The Only Exception || Lee Haechan x Reader

Summary: You finally realize that Haechan’s the only exception to the one rule you gave yourself.

Genre: Angst and a little bit of Fluff  

Pairing/s: Drummer!Haechan x Lead Vocalist!Reader, Minor College Student!Mark x Reader

Warnings: Explicit content, mentions of suicide, suicidal thoughts, implications of sex, sex jokes, use of drugs, cigarettes and alcohol, verbal and physical abuse, divorce, and a few others I probably forgot to mention

Word Count: 5.4k words

So this is part two of the Drummer!Haechan AU I wrote: Still Into You

 Please do give feedback, it’s greatly appreciated! Thank you and enjoy :)

"When I was younger I saw my daddy cry and curse at the wind.

He broke his own heart and I watched as he tried to reassemble it.

And my momma swore that she would never let herself forget”

It all started with hushed arguments, hidden whispers of disappointment behind closed doors, afraid of breaking the perfect image your family had, afraid of the neighbors to talk. From hushed arguments to daily endeavors of avoiding each other everyday, it was like a ticking bomb inside your home. A ticking bomb you had tip-toed over each morning past your parents' bedroom, hearing the muffled crying. You knew it was only a matter of time before the bomb would finally explode, imploding your house from inside-out.

You hoped and you prayed to any god willing to listen that the rumors were not true. The neighbors started talking and the news had somehow got out. And that was when everything started breaking down. The hushed arguments turned to wars of screaming and crying, sharp words that cut through you like a knife. That was when the walls of your home began to talk, they spoke to you too, they echoed the hatred your parents had for each other. They made you feel unwanted, unloved and useless, since of course the sole foundation of your life was crumbling. You were the scars, bruises, and pain they brought into the world, you were once proof of their love that turned into a ghost wandering the halls, desperately clawing against the wallpaper to make it all stop.

It didn't end with words, it seemed as if words weren't hurtful enough. You were caught in the crossfire, desperately trying to raise the white flag between the two, but you ended up becoming their stress ball. They would sometimes drown you, lock you up in the basement or straight up hit you. They kept squeezing you and throwing you around like a stress ball bound to burst, the people at school began noticing the bruises and cuts. In the end they left you alone, vacant and ignored since you began bringing your friends over your house.

And for the first time in a while you felt safe, you felt safe in Jeno's comforting smile when he tried to teach you guitar. You felt safe with Hendery's little pranks and teasing during practices. You felt safe in Donghyuck's presence whenever you two would head out after band practice, in his car with no particular destination in mind. The nights were long, but somehow it always ended too quickly for you. You wished you could stay for an eternity inside Donghyuck's car, it was a place where you didn't bother to be someone else except yourself.

It was a space where you weren't either the whore's daughter or the useless excuse of a student. You were just authentically you and Donghyuck openly accepted you, he didn't say it but you knew he did. He didn't talk whenever you didn't feel like it, he opened the car window when you wanted to watch the stoplights and streetlight wiz by. That's what made those nights perfect, it was Donghyuck's soft humming along the mediocre pop song on the radio. His weirdly specific defensive monologue whenever you brought up his tacky lavender car scent. Donghyuck's presence in general as he would sometimes just hold your hand while you thought to yourself.

One of those nights where you thought to yourself that life should always be like this, you didn't know how, but you knew that Donghyuck has to be apart of it. You decided that the world may go to shit, your parents may end up getting a divorce, you may end up living the rest of your life as a deadbeat. But you no longer cared as long as you had this place, in a worn out car seat next to him; well that was what you thought at least.

"And that was the day that I promised,

I'd never sing of love if it does not exist"

Donghyuck's sudden departure from the band shocked both Jeno and Hendery, they took it considerably well in all honesty. They still wanted to continue on with the band, partly because they needed the money from the gigs and mostly because they worried for you as a friend. You tried your best in trying to continue with your life and look for another drummer, for another Donghyuck in your life. As silly as it sounded since you were the one that pushed him away, you would think of him most days. You were only realizing how important Donghyuck was in your life.

He was always the one who took care of you, reminded you to eat and rest whenever you forgot. He would show up at your dorm to bring you breakfast or make you coffee, remind you that some of the books you borrowed from the library was due tomorrow, or even just chat you to check on how your day was going. Now that you had changed your number and avoided him like a plague you were starting to realize how much you lost.

And you had thought of calling him, or maybe reaching out to ask how his day was going, the same way he used to check on you. You were so tempted that you showed up at his place, a second away from buzzing his doorbell, but you remembered. You remembered how awful you were to him, you were reminded of the pain and misery you've caused him all through out your lives so far. You were being selfish yet again, so you stopped yourself. You immediately turned around that day and called up Hendery and Jeno to tell them that the band was over, you didn't have the guts to face them anymore.

The guilt was eating you alive, they had tried to convince you otherwise but you pushed them away too. The only person who you kept in your life was Mark. You still felt happy to be around him, although you didn't feel comfortable since you felt like you had to keep a facade around him. He seemed glad to see you more often, you'd cling onto him like a flee for days. But there came a time when he finally asked why you were so vacant these days, and where were your other friends; it was an argument caused by Mark's growing irritation for being required to see you everyday and almost having to babysit you like child, all the while trying to keep up with other activities going on his life. You had left him without a single word and returned the next day like nothing happened.

He genuinely did like you, he wished things were different but he couldn't handle the nonstop texts and calls that came from you every minute of the hour, he was beginning to get sick of it. And you immediately notice his distaste, the way he would dryly reply to your messages or not talk to you whenever he did have time to see you. You knew you were becoming a bit too much for him, desperate for company that you became too overbearing, a bit too possessive and selfish when it came to his time.

And for the first time, you felt it. You felt how your heart sunk everytime Mark chose to answer a call from a friend when you were talking to him, the way he would look anywhere else but you whenever you tried to start conversations. You were usually on the other end of the stick, careless of other people’s emotions and too busy living in your own world. You finally knew what it felt when Donghyuck dated you, and what horrible thoughts that came with it. In the end, you knew that Mark was too kind to end it with you, he obviously knew you were having issues in your personal life, but he couldn't be bothered anymore; he's tried talking to you about it, but you'd always change the topic.

So you told yourself that it was better if you would be alone for now, this is the tenfold of misery and hurt you've caused everyone around you, especially Donghyuck, your world was falling apart as more and more people left.  You eventually ended things with Mark, and he gave you a simple okay and left.  He didn't seem to notice you anymore, he continued to live his university life unscathed, it was as if you two never spoke in the first place.

He would sometimes smile at you or give you a small nod of his head whenever you saw each other around campus, but that was the most you've gotten from him. You didn't blame him, he didn't have time to waste with people like you. Being alone with your thoughts truly was eating you alive, you were beginning to go insane. Everytime you were about to reach out to anyone, either Jeno, Hendery, or Donghyuck, you'd always stop yourself to remind you that you deserved this.

You deserved to be alone, you cannot be loved. You were a heartless monster just as Donghyuck said and you lived most of your days alone while trying to survive with the little funds your new part time provided. You didn't know how, but you somehow lived as days went by. You watched the leaves and flowers bloom from the branches outside of your dorm till they wilted. It was now winter, and you freely wandered the streets. No other human could be seen outside, everyone was probably spending time with loved ones, since of course it was the holidays.

Days you should be spending with the people you cherish and loved the most, you could see the warm lights from within some of the homes, laughter resonates through the walls, probably the lovers and families enjoying their own company. Playing dumb board games and cuddled up by the fire, watching the grinch movies with eggnog and warm cups of hot choco. You never really understood the joys of the holidays, probably because the only other person you had spent it was with Donghyuck, and there you go thinking of him again.

As if thinking of him in everything you do wasn't enough, he began appearing in your dreams. You didn't know if it was pleasant to revisit old memories or did it hurt to reminisce what was lost between you two. And as much as it hurt you chose to remember him as someone you loved, perhaps not romantically, but he was someone you truly cherished. You thought that he'd comment on how cheesy you've become, so melodramatic that you'd give William Shakespear a run for his money when he's already in his grave.

You bitterly laugh at the thought, the cold makes your throat dry and eyes watery but you look up to the moon while standing next to a lamp post near the frozen river.  You could almost feel his presence, you truly were going insane that you started imagining things he'd say to you at times like this. The snarky comments and cute pet names he'd give you whenever you dragged him along for whatever adventure you had in mind. You remembered how he'd first complain about it to no end, but he always ends up coming with you. He always does, of course, he's Donghyuck, the person who stuck with you through thick and thin; the person you've hurt the most.

You begin humming a small tune, you didn't recognize it at first, but you ended up humming a paramore song. The song you both listened to during class the first day you two met, the same song that you sang here, with tears streaming down you cheeks. You didn't know you were crying until you felt the cold gust of wind brushing against your cheeks, a chill running down your spine as you sniffled.

"I hope you're happy now Hyuck, wherever you are," it felt weird to speak, you couldn't remember the last time you opened your mouth to say anything. it's been months since you've last said a word to anyone, you throat was dry and you could barely recognize your own voice, it was raspier than you last remembered.

"I'm happy enough to know we're looking at the same moon tonight at least." you laughed, your throat hurts like hell, the laugh came as a croak and you tried to gasp in air to try and stop yourself from breaking down.

It felt weird to listen to your own voice, everything felt unreal. These past few months were like a fever dream to you, you even wondered if you were dead and this was some cruel purgatory you served for the shit you pulled back then. You've thought about jumping into the frozen river, maybe the cold would at least wake you up if this was truly some cruel nightmare. If not it could also finally end all the suffering and pain you know you caused yourself, what hurt most was you cannot blame anyone else for what is happening now. You shakily let out a breath, hands gripping the metal railing. You were about to jump over it when the street's fairy lights were suddenly turned on and it reflected off the thin layer of ice of the lake.

You wake up from your daze, what the hell were you thinking? The pretty lights distracted you for a moment, you pace your breathing with the consistent flicker of the warm glow of the tiny lights, trying to calm down.

"And I've always lived like this,

keeping a comfortable distance"

senior year, prom.

You bit your lip while watching the fairy lights flicker, whose idea was it to have tiny light bulbs as decoration for the photo booth, and god you wanted to give them a kiss now. It was such a hazard that you couldn't stop thinking of the endless possible drama it could cause, the prom queen could end up stepping on it and light her dress on fire, that would at least make the night interesting. You blew the tiny patch of fake snow off the table while you grumpily waited for someone, anyone, to step on one of the fairy lights, but you were dragged out of your reverie when you hear Donghyuck's voice behind you.

"Hey ugly,"

"Hey stupid," you replied, eyes shifting away from the photo booth for a second to look at him. He stuck out like a sore thumb, he wasn't wearing a tuxedo like the rest, or even a tie to at least try and be formal. He was sporting his favorite leather jacket with a green untucked button up underneath, he looked underdressed, the only effort he made to his appearance was the way he styled his hair to showcase his forehead.

"That's not a nice way to speak to your boyfriend" Donghyuck faked a gasp, dragging a chair to sit down beside you, you raised an eyebrow at him. The stupid crease on his jacket annoyed you to no end, so you fixed it for him, it was his turn to raise an eyebrow at you.

"Boyfriend? I thought boyfriends put in extra efforts for prom? You know like in the movies, they give the girl a cute corsage and tell them how pretty they look and end up fucking in the bathroom or something?"

"You're beautiful." He says it blatantly, you stop to look him in the eyes, and it seemed genuine. You pursed your lips while trying to hide your smile, boyfriend Donghyuck was different from best friend Donghyuck, he was a lot... sweeter.

"Let's fuck in the bathroom later?" he added, to which you groaned and slapped his thigh. He only laughed at you while gently fitting his hand into yours, gently kissing your knuckles when you swore you were gonna bite his dick someday, just he wait.

Well you'll  give him credit, he at least made an effort to look nice for you. You didn't even bother to blow dry your hair today and you were wearing what you'd usually wear whenever you went out with him, just with a bit more grunge added, like black fishnet stockings. He wasn't complaining at all, he knew that whatever you were wearing tonight would end up ripped anyway, probably somewhere on his bedroom floor. And plus, you two didn't really attend prom, the only reason you bothered to this year was for the battle of the bands.

You were already done with the performance so you were all simply waiting for the announcement of the winner. You knew Jeno was probably out on the dance floor dancing with his date in a proper suit and tie like a gentleman, but you had no idea where Hendery went. One second he said he was going to get you a drink, the next he's disappeared before you into thin air. So you were left with Donghyuck, who was currently playing with your rings. As weird as it felt to have a label between you two, nothing's changed. You thought that you'd feel more awkward towards him, but the only thing that changed was the label, and you were happy in a way.

"Wanna dance?"

You perk up at his question, you finally realize that a slow song was playing. Everyone was paired off in front of you, even some of the teachers were dancing. You almost let out a laugh at the sight of some of couples who were trying their best to keep it in their pants. You thought he was joking until you looked over at him, he was shyly fiddling with his own hands now, not able to look you in the eyes. You would laugh if it weren't for the way he seemed so shy to ask, he looked like he was about to combust.

"I don't dance," you laughed, he looks up at you. You didn't know it was possible but he looked much more embarrassed now, it was cute it in a way.

"Let's get out of here?"

"Now that's more like it" you smirk, taking his hand to lead him outside of the gymnasium and to his car.  He didn't bother to fight it, he just simply let you drag him out to the parking lot.

He opens the car door for you and you played along, deciding to not tease him just this once since, of course, he was already red enough. He turns on the engine and you switch through different channels on the radio, finally settling on one when he pulls out of the driveway.

“And up until now I had sworn to myself that I'm content with loneliness.

Because none of it was ever worth the risk.”

The song on the radio hummed in the background as he drove as carefully as he could, the roads were iced and it wasn't very safe to drive right now. He was about to take the turn to his house but you stop him and told him to bring you to the center of town, he was unsure why the sudden request, but he follows your directions anyway. For the moment, you stared at his face. The way the streetlights lit up his skin, you rarely saw his forehead and it did make him look attractive. Well he was already attractive in the first place but you couldn’t help but observe the way he drummed his fingers against the steering wheel to the song’s beat, it looked instinctive and natural to him.

"So are you finally going to murder me and take my intestines to sell on the black market?" he spoke, and you laughed, throwing your head back; he was finally starting to look handsome to you, and he opens that damned mouth of his.

"Kidneys my darling! Your kidneys will be worth a fortune!" you giggled while leaning over the center console to kiss his cheek, he smiled at the sound of your laughter.

He takes you exactly where you asked him, the center of the town. The exact intersection that’s considered as the heart of your buzzing neighborhood. The exact intersection that usually had so many cars, always the cause of traffic and delay, was now completely empty. All the stores near the intersect were closed, no other person in sight but the stoplights continued to operate. The colors red, yellow, and green appearing in an ordered sequence, proportionally timed. Although there wasn't a single car in sight, Donghyuck stopped when the light turned red.

"What are you waiting for?" you asked in confusion, he shrugs.

"Can you tell me why we're here?"

You didn't bother to speak, you simply got out of the car and stood at the center of the intersection. You opened your arms up to him and he watched you curiously, you let out a boisterous laugh, spinning around your heel. You forgot that the road was slippery so you fell flat on your back, still laughing. Donghyuck runs out of his car to kneel beside you, he had a worried look to him but it immediately faded away when you looked at him with joy in your eyes.

He scoffed, not forgetting to comment on how stupid you looked before offering his hand to help you stand up. You take his hand but instead of sitting up, you pull him towards you and he slips, ending up toppled over you. His breathing was uneven as it brushed cooly against your cheek, you close your eyes at the feeling. He gently kissed your cheek after a minute, finally standing up to brush himself off. You were still lying down on the ground, flailing your arms around to try and form a snow angel.

"Are you dumb? Get up before we get run over" Donghyuck tried to sound angry, but he couldn't stop the lilt in his voice, a tiny chuckles escapes his mouth.

"Shut up already and just lie down! Why do you always ruin the moment?” you whined looking up at him, still spread eagle at the center of the intersect, he raised an eyebrow at you, it was becoming a habit to him.

“Don’t you feel it too? The world’s stopped, they’ve finally shut up! So enjoy it and come lie down with me.”

“And if we get run over?”

“Then so be it” You shrugged, Donghyuck lets out a heavy sigh before taking his seat beside you. He doesn’t lie down, so you sit up to lean against his shoulder.

And the world stops, like what you said. For a moment the only thing you two could hear was the sound of your breathing and the beating of your hearts, he held your hand in his while you both watched the stoplight change colors. It felt like you two were the only people on earth, and it was the best. There was nothing but the moon, your thoughts, the stoplight, and him. And as peaceful as it was you couldn’t stop the thought from spilling from your mouth.

“Someday I’ll burn this town to the ground” you comment, and he snorts.

“Gee, it sure sounds like a solid plan” he says it sarcastically, and you turn to look at him.

“I’m serious! You better not get in my way or anything or else I’ll have to set you on fire” you say it with the most serious tone that he’s taken aback, well that was one weird thought he thought.

His face makes you laugh and he wasn’t sure if he was supposed to laugh with you. He shook his head when he realized you were joking, probably. You felt content and happy that you decided to grant him one wish. He once again has the confused face he had earlier, just when he was finally settled you suddenly move. He tries to stand up to follow you, but you told him that you’ll be back.

He watched you open the driver’s side of the car, he thought you were about to drive away and leave him here but he was abruptly stopped mid-thought when the speakers of the radio of his car boomed throughout the empty streets. His eyes widened, he was worried that it might wake the whole street up. Then he remembered that the residential homes were located near the outskirts of town, so it was unlikely that anyone would hear. Most of this area had shops and stores, so the people are probably back at home, you both aren’t technically disturbing anyone hopefully. He relaxes back into his seat to watch you waltz back towards him.

“So?” you asked, the smile on your face was infectious.

“So?” he mimicked dumbly and you rolled your eyes in annoyance, was he always this dumb?

“May I have this dance?” you groaned, turning red yourself. You blamed it on the cold, but he couldn’t help but laugh at you. At first it sounded like he was mocking you, but when you met his eyes to smack him on the head you were only met with eyes filled with so much endearment and affection that you could only pull back your hand.

He takes your hand to stand up, you complain of course, he was heavy. But he hushed you when he placed his fingers to your chapped lips, he smiled so widely that it looked like it hurt. You pursed your lips, wrapping your arms around his neck and he securely holds your waist. Although the atmosphere was supposed to be romantic, your terrible sense of rhythm in dancing ruined it. You would think that you’d be good at following the rhythm when dancing being a couple of musicians, but you both always missed a beat by a second. And he could only laugh while you cursed, finally remembering why you never danced.

You were muttering something under you breath, but your voice hitched when he brushes his fingers against your hair. He placed a sweet kiss to your temple and you freeze, you felt your heart clench at the action. He begins whispering the lyrics to your ear, you swallow thickly. This was one of the rare times he’d sing to you, you tried to tell him countless times that his voice was beautiful, but he had always denied saying yours was better. But hearing him now, whispering softly against your ear while he nuzzled his nose to your neck affectionately made your heart throb. You take in a deep breath, this feeling in your chest, it was your heart clenching. You didn’t know if he was hurting you but you were so overwhelmed that you suddenly pushed him away.

“Did I do something wrong?” his eyes spoke, trying to reach out to you again but you take another step backward.

“This was a stupid idea” You were shocked to hear your voice crack, Donghyuck frowns at your comment.

“What do you mean?”

“Take me home.... now.”

He tried to take a step towards you but you run back towards his car, closing the door to wait for him. You lower the volume of the radio and try to gather your thoughts, what the fuck was that? You watched him walk back towards the car and swore to yourself, whatever the hell you felt earlier, whatever he did to you, he will never be able to do again. It was too much of a risk, and you swore to yourself to never let yourself be that vulnerable again.

He tries to talk to you on the way home, but your replies were dry. You were busy fiddling with your fingers while looking outside the window. He tried his best to make you tell him what he did wrong but he couldn’t get another word out from you the moment he pulled up in front of your house. You were about to leave but you decided to try and turn things around, you tried to get back to what you two were used to.

You kissed him, hauling yourself over the center console to sit on his lap. He tries to pull away but you continued to kiss, hastily lifting his shirt to try and remove it. In the end he was weak to your touch, he could never deny you of anything. He hoped that you two could talk it out in the morning but you were unavailable the next few weeks after that, busy fooling around with Johnny.

“I've got a tight grip on reality but I can't let go of what's in front of me here.

I know you're leaving in the morning when you wake up, leave me with some kind of proof it's not a dream”

Present day.

The next day you decided to visit your home town. Although you didn’t have any family left to visit, you had volunteered to play at an orphanage, it was the least you could do for the holidays. If you couldn’t be happy, you could at least make others feel it. Who knew that Jeno’s stupid guitar lessons would end up becoming an asset to you, you could at least spread a little joy to the children who didn’t have parents, you somehow understood how they felt, in a weird way.

It was a joy to finally sing with a purpose again, hearing them laugh and sing along with you made your heart sore. Well at least you didn’t feel as useless after playing with a few of the kids and chatting with the caretakers and other volunteers. It felt freeing, to finally do something right. You fucked up this year for the most of it but you felt a bit less burdened when the children asked you to braid their hair or took your hand to dance with them. After serving your purpose at the orphanage you find yourself at the intersection. You don’t know what you wanted to accomplish, but your feet ended up taking you here.

And as expected it was filled with bustling life, people going in and out of shops to buy late christmas presents, children building snowmen and riding the tiny slopes made by the snow. The traffic as usual was heavy, the cars were honking and the streets were so noisy that no one could bearly hear themselves think. You sat by a bench near the park, the intersect still in your sight. You were eating a bagel mindlessly when a little kid sat beside you, he was eyeing your guitar.

“You play?” the little kid asked and you nodded, giving him a small smile to not scare him away, you probably looked like a walking corpse; you can’t remember the last time you slept properly.

“A little bit, like five songs?” you smiled and he instantly asks you to play, there was this urgency in his voice that you couldn’t help but immediately do what he was asking.

You bite into the bagel while tuning your guitar, thinking of a song to play, well out of the five you knew how to play. You began strumming the guitar to Paramore’s The Only Exception, humming the tune as best as you could with the bagel in your mouth. You end your humming after the first chorus to be met with a grimace, the little kid laughed at you.

“You’re no good”

“Hey!” you take out the bagel from your mouth to yell jokingly at him, he scrunches his nose up when you ruffle his hair and you laugh at his annoyed face, he somehow looked familiar, was he one of the kids from the orphanage? Wait were they even allowed to leave the orphanage?

“So what’s your name?” You ask, putting the guitar back into its case. The voice that meets your ears wasn’t the little boy’s, it was a voice you haven’t heard in a long time, a voice you thought you’d never hear again.

“Dongsuk,”

This has to be a dream, it couldn’t be real. You blink a few times before pinching yourself, you were probably hallucinating. Because there is no way, not a chance the Lee Donghyuck was now standing in front of you. That shit only happens in movies, this can’t be real. But you could only rub your eyes so much, he looked real, like real enough that he was getting closer to you. And he finally speaks, and you finally realize it really is him in the flesh.

“Where have you been?” he speaks, you first thought that he was talking to you but he grabs the little boy’s arm. He glances at you and you try to speak and he simply turns his nose away from you, you feel your world crack in half.

To his defense you were the one who moved dorms, changed your number, and avoided him like a plague. So his reaction was expected, you don’t know why you were so surprised. He was about to walk away when you finally speak, he stops cold in his steps when he hears your voice.

“Donghyuck...” He turns to look at you, and his eyes were still the same. It still had the same hurt and sadness you’d usually see when he looked at you, but he looked much more angrier than you remembered.

“Let’s... talk”

“You are the only exception, oh and I'm on my way to believing.”

[bumblesimagines]

Green Thumb

Part 14

Request: Yes or No

TW: Vision dying, the snap victims

Did I almost cry while writing this? Hell ya lmao I had to watch the movie in order to get everything right but im also just a big crybaby lol

Three for the price of one? More likely than you think

~

You gently leaned Vision against a branch, taking a seat beside him. You looked over at Wanda as she landed nearby. She rushed over to you and Vision.

"Are you two okay?" Wanda asked softly, placing a gentle hand on Visions cheek. He groaned in pain, hand going to the Mind Stone. You frowned, touching his arm.

"What? What is it?" Wanda asked, watching him in concern.

"He's here." Vision breathed out, looking around in a panic. You swallowed, a chill running down your spine. Wanda stared at him, a shakey breath leaving her. The team quickly grouped, keeping an eye out for Thanos. You met Buckys gaze, giving him a tired smile as he helped you up.

"You alright?" He asked. You nodded, leaning against him. You noticed movement, turning your head and seeing the giant. You took a small step away from Bucky, watching him.

"Cap... That's him." Bruce confirmed. Steve nodded, beginning to walk towards him. You watched as he effortlessly took out everyone. You glanced back at Wanda and Vision as Vision tried convincing her to destroy the stone. You frowned, looking forward.

"(Y/N)." Bucky grabbed your arm, frowning. You looked at him, offering a small smile.

"We'll be fine, Bucky." You assured before you walked forward, looking at Thanos. You raised your hands, making roots grab onto Thanos. They wrapped around his arms and neck, pulling back. Even if they didn't stop him, it saved Wanda time. You lowered one hand, crouching down and picking up the dagger. Thanos grunted, struggling against the roots. He lunged forward, the roots snapping.

"Oh, shit." You breathed out. You were close enough to stab the side of his stomach before he grabbed your shoulder, tossing you aside and throwing the dagger as well. You were thrown against a tree, making it snap.

"Fuck!" You grunted, head spinning. You shut your eyes tightly, opening them and seeing Wanda using her powers in the Mind Stone. She cried but didn't stop until it finally broke, sending a blast through the area. You looked up, watching Thanos approach Wanda.

"I know how you feel." Thanos said sympathetically. Wanda glared up at him through watery eyes.

"You could never." She whispered. Thanos gently patted her head, continuing towards where Vision once was. He rewound time so Vision was slowly constructed again.

"No!" Wanda screamed, running forward but she was thrown back. Thanos picked Vision up by the throat, pulling the Mind Stone out of his forehead. Your throat went dry as Vsion turned gray and limp. Thor finally appeared, throwing his axe in Thanos chest. You slowly crawled towards Wanda, brushing her hair out of her face.

"Wanda?" You stared down at her, trying to blink away tears. Wanda slowly sat up, a horrified gasp leaving her when she saw Vision. You looked up, seeing Thanos half burnt body and half destroyed gauntlet. He made a portal, going through it before anyone could react.

"Vision.." Wanda whimpered.

"Steve? (Y/N)?" You turned towards Bucky, eyes widening as he fell, turning to dust.

"Bucky?" You called out softly, watching Steve touch the dust in shock.

"Sam?" You called out in a panic, standing up and looking around.

"I'm here." Sam stood, stumbling forward but he fell, turning into a pile of dust.

"(Y/N).." Wanda whispered, making you turn to look at her. She turned to dust as well, panicked breaths leaving you.

"Where are they? What's going on?" You asked with a trembling voice, tears beginning to slip down your cheeks.

"He did it." Steve whispered. You furrowed your brows, making eye contact with Natasha. She frowned, approaching you.

"Oh, baby.." She whispered, giving you a tight hug. You hugged her back, mind racing. You suddenly pulled back.

"Mom and dad.." You breathed out. Natasha's lips parted, nodding. Steve slowly stood, picking Visions body up. The team made their way to the city. Okoye met up with the remaining Dora Milaje, telling them the news of T'Challa. By the time you all reached the city, T'Challa's mother and sister had gotten word. The Queen Mother greeted you and the team with a solemn look on her face. You could tell she was trying to stay strong and fight back tears.

"I need to go see them." You said quietly. Ramonda had Ayo take you and Natasha to a jet. Ayo held a strong face though her eyes were watered as she piloted. Natasha placed a gentle hand on your shoulder. You stayed silent, staring at the floor. Your mind went blank, trying to focus on calming yourself down. You and Natasha were dropped off at the farm. You felt immense relief upon seeing Clint, running towards him.

"Clint!"

(Y/N), oh thank god!" Clint quickly caught you, arms tightly wrapping around you. You couldn't stop the sobs that wrecked your body, legs buckling beneath you. You and Clint fell to the ground, still holding onto each other.

"They're gone.." You whispered, sniffling afterward as your body trembled.

"Bucky, Sam, Vision, Wanda.. All of them.. They just.. They just turned to dust." You told him in a shakey voice as you pulled back. You could literally see Clints heart break in half. You sniffled, noticing hotdogs on the bench outside.

"Where's mom?" You asked softly, looking at Clint. He stayed silent, staring at the ground. Your brows furrowed as you stared at him.

"Dad?"

"They're gone too, aren't they?" Natasha asked softly, standing behind you. Your face dropped, staring at him as your bottom lip trembled.

"No, no.. They can't.. They couldn't have.." You stood up, stumbling slightly. You glanced at the bench, walking towards the house.

"Mom? Lila? Cooper? Nate?" You called into the empty house, searching for your family. Every room downstairs was empty. You quickly went upstairs, almost tripping as you entered each room. Cooper and Lila's rooms were as messy as always but with no sign of them. You entered Nathaniels' room, almost stepping on a drawing of his. You reached down, picking it up with shakey hands.

"Oh, Nate.." It was of the whole family. It was poorly drawn but it was easy to tell who was who. Tear drops fell onto the paper. You walked towards your room, sitting on the bed. You held tightly into the drawing, holding it against your chest as you cried. You took in short breaths and closed your eyes, letting out a scream full of anger, sadness, and exhaustion. When you opened your eyes, you saw most of your room covered in ice.

"I'm so fucking tired.." You whispered, watching the ice slowly retract.

"I can't have one good thing without it being taken." You muttered, looking out the window. Natasha comfored Clint, most likely having explained everything to him. Natasha left not long after, taking a motorcycle. You licked your lips, hearing Clint step inside the house. It was too silent. You were so used to hearing Laura talking or humming along to whatever song played on the radio, Cooper attempt to teach Nate new words, Lila ask Clint about his work as Hawkeye. You heard Clint heavy footsteps head up the stairs and stop at your door.

"You should take a break from work." Clint said quietly. You kept your stare on the window, mind blank again.

"Okay.." You heard Clint walk away from your room, heading back downstairs. You let out a shakey sigh, reaching out to the device you used to speak to Bucky with. You clicked on the button.

Calling White Wolf...

Call failed.

Your jaw clenched, eyes watering again. Your brows furrowed, noticing one option appear.

Replay previous calls?

You hesitantly clicked on it, brows lifted and lips parting as recordings of all the calls you made with Bucky appeared. You could listen to his voice and see his face again on repeat. You felt some sense of relief. You stood up, grabbing some clothes and a towel. You entered the bathroom, stripping and grunting softly. You turned around, looking at the mirror.

"Fuck.." You breathed out, seeing the bruises. You sighed, turning on the shower and waiting for it to heat. You entered, standing under the water. You watched the blood and dirt go down the drain, slightly leaning against the wall.

"What the hell are we gonna do now?" You closed your eyes, running a hand over your face. You licked your lips, finishing your shower and getting out. You carefully dried off, changing and stepping out. You grabbed your phone, checking the news. Half of Earths' population gone. There was confusion, chaos, and fear.

"Where the fuck is Tony?" You asked yourself, noticing some articles about him missing. They had been published before people turned to dust. You clicked on the video, watching it.

"Tony Stark, also known as Iron Man, was last seen in his suit flying towards what appeared to be a space ship. Since then, he has not made an appearance and his future wife, Pepper Potts, has neither denied or confirmed his disappearance."

"This is a big fat shit show." You whispered, turning off your phone and standing up. You left your room, heading down the steps and seeing Clint staring at Lilas' old toy bunny.

"I didn't know Tony was getting married." You said quietly, watching him. Clint gave an amused smirk, nodding as he looked at you.

"Neither of us were invited.. Wonder why." Clint said softly. You approached him, sitting beside him and leaning against him.

"At least we have each other."

~

Tags: @geek-and-proud @wolfelocksley

[beatleszeppelin]

You're A... Inexperienced Chapter 2

Summary: On watch one night you find out some thing that Daryl has never done. And you offer him some experience.

Category: Friends to Lovers, Eventual Mild Smut, just a good ol’ time

Paring: Daryl x reader (second person)

Warnings/Includes: General Walking Dead grossness, Smut (but not in this chapter), swearing, use of weapons, non-graphic hunting, mention of past child abuse, (let me know if you see anything else)

Word count: 3k

Chapter 1 Masterlist

Chapter 2 Naked in a Lake

The next few days were fairly uneventful. Seeing Daryl only in passing. He stayed outside when you were in; you stayed outside when he stayed in.

Not even shifts brought you together. Since the fall of Woodbury, there have been plenty of new people taking shifts to give you all a break.

Most of your time was spent helping with the kids in the library when Carol was too busy doing important things to “babysit”. Or you occasionally helped out at the farm on the south side of the prison. Rick and Hershel had started it over the past few months, and already it had yielded some fine meals.

Those meals were also made courtesy of Daryl, who went out into the woods on the daily, not going far, but far enough to be out all day and come back with a belt full of squirrels and rabbits by night. You had no idea how he did it or how far he went, but he seemed to be used to the days of solitude, in nature alone.

That was all until he planned to go out a bit farther, only for a couple days, but that was more that he had been gone in a while, more than anyone had been alone for a while. When he shared these plans, you decided that you would go out hunting with him, you know, because there is safety in numbers, (and you were dying to see what he spent so much time doing everyday).

So when morning came, and it was time to leave you brought your bag and followed him to the gate. He squinted at you being blinded by the morning light that rose over the prison. “I’m coming with you, is that alright?” You asked him knowing that he couldn’t argue. You awaited his response, but it never came, instead he had the gate opened and held his arm out like a gentleman letting you lead.

You guys walked past the spikes that guarded the outside of the gates, just as the queens guards once did outside of Buckingham palace. Kicking rocks and dust clouds along the path, walking went fairly slow. Not much to say, not much to do this early in the morning. You hadn’t even waited for Carl and Carol’s shift, which normally signified morning, to start before you had left. (You were sure he had said good-bye to them, Rick, and Judith the night before though. He was good like that.)

When the sun, which was barely peering over the land when you left, had risen enough to give you a long shadow, stretched out in front of you; you decided it was time to eat. Taking the backpack off your shoulders, and unzipping it when it was in front of you, you pulled out a small loaf of bread. You broke it in half and handed some to Daryl. He gnashed into it like a rabid dog, grunting a thank you in between bites.

You nibbled off bites as you walked, trying to savor it as something to do. The scenery of trees and a dirt path was getting old. You couldn’t understand how someone could go out along this path all day every day.

It was hot, too. Hot and sweaty. By mid-day you felt as though you were dragging, lifting your legs in a pedantic manner. Daryl’s hair was stuck to his forehead, and he had stripped his poncho, just left in a cut off flannel. He seemed to be perfectly fine in the heat though, barely even touching his water.

You wonder if he stayed outside a lot before as well. There’s something about him that makes it so hard to imagine him in his house, in a domestic setting. Did he do the dishes, and make himself food? Was his room clean, did he make his bed every morning before work? Did he have a job? What did he do? But you know that wondering these things will only pass the time, because there is no way he’d ever casually mention his previous life.

People had tried guessing, to no avail. Beth’s new boyfriend, Zach, was the leader of the guessers, being followed by the children, and you’ve even discussed it with both Michonne and Carol before. It would really take something special to make him confess his stories to someone, who knows who could get that close to him though.

You spent the majority of your walk picturing him in an office setting, wearing a tie and answering phones. Or at a gas station glaring at little kids who try to stuff candy bars up their sleeves, scaring them into obeying the law.

Mechanic seemed to fit best. Not a sleazy mechanic that finds more things to break to get

some extra cash, but one that spends day and night tracking down an original piece to some old beat up motorcycle. He wouldn’t charge extra for labor, cause he’d be doing the thing he loved most. He would treat each bike as his own, tirelessly making it perfect until the finishing pieces were in their exact place, like the sprinkles on a sundae.

“Gonna cut into the woods, right here.” He nodded, directing you.

“Oh yeah, sorry,” you said, snapping out of your little daydream. “Ya’ okay?” He ducked down, meeting your eyes though his hair.

“Yeah, I’s just thinking.”

“‘Kay, just watch out in here. Can’t make too much sound.”

You walked through the dense forest, making as little noise as you possibly could. Heel, toe; heel, toe. Only cracking branches and crunching leaves every few steps, listening to Daryl’s deep steadying breaths in between.

He taught you how to lay traps, and snares; different knots and when to use them. By the end of the day you could set your own, with the reassurance that he would help kill whatever you caught. No matter how many walkers you would kill, and how much bad shit you’ve seen. It still felt weird killing animals to eat.

The trapping, and mapping out your paths came to an end as night fell. The darkness made it too difficult to achieve the superb knots you were tying, and the sub par snares that Daryl would set, so you two decided to call it a night, sleeping in shifts back to back.

The next day went the same, but it was now time for the actual hunting. You left the killing to Daryl, using your lack of a silent long range weapon, like the crossbow as an excuse. You guys sat up wind, and out of the line of sight of any animals that may pass. It was quiet, and you understood why he liked it.

Hunting wasn’t all killing like you had imagined; hunting was 99% sitting quietly in nature, 1% killing.

You can’t lie about the fact that when a deer came into sight, you closed your eyes and didn’t open them until you heard the click of the trigger on the crossbow. You didn’t want to see the animal die, but you can’t feel bad about how many people that deer could feed.

Daryl took care of the dirty work, cleaning, and “prepping” the deer to be taken home. You sat by and watched.

Once the task was complete, you started back for the prison, hoping it would cut some of the time of the walk back tomorrow. This time was cut short by the approaching darkness of night.

You two set up a small camp to spend the ever closer night. And with cans on strings, as tripwire, and your backs to each other, you two felt it was safe enough to get some rest, that was until the cans rattled.

The sounds of metal clanking, shook you from your not so deep sleep. You whipped around to see a walker reaching over your barricade of tangled fishing wire and old soda cans. It stumbled over and grabbed Daryl's boot, luckily he tied up his pant legs with cords to keep from being scratched. You scrambled over to a half awake Daryl and pulled his knife from his pocket, stabbing it into the undead's brain. He nodded graciously as you handed his knife back. You both sat still in the early hours of the morning, breathing heavily until your adrenaline died down.

Your eyes stung from lack of sleep, but it was nothing compared to how Daryl looked. His eyes were puffy, and had dark purple craters around them, and what little you could see of his eyes were bloodshot. His hair stuck up in every which direction, the bangs that normally cover his face, were defying gravity, and exposed his forehead.

“You can sleep, but let's face each other this time,” you planned.

“You sure?” he said groggily.

“Yeah, if you saw yourself, you’d be sure too.”

He scoffed, and pulled his vest out as an acting pillow, tucking one arm under it, and laying his head down. He fell asleep shortly, and you watched.

The expression he made was soft, and innocent, less like a child and more like a puppy that tired out running in a field all day. He subconsciously held his thumb to his mouth. He breathed heavily through his mouth, with quiet snores escaping occasionally.

You didn’t sleep at all that night, you couldn’t let anything disturb the peace. You weren’t tired, though, you actually felt like you had gotten a full night’s rest.

The two of you started home at the crack of dawn, with dull yellow light illuminating the grass you stood on. You took to the woods for your trek home, rather than the long road you took to get there.

Halfway through the day you happened upon a lake that looked beautiful, a direct juxtaposition to everything you had been used to seeing. The water sparkled, and light refracted off the ripples in every which direction. Birds made chirping sounds that echoed through the dense forest, and made a song through the trees.

Daryl grabbed a plastic bottle, and some of the sandy silt that covered the edge of the water, making a makeshift water filter. As he did so, you took off your shorts and threw them aside, wading into the water. The water was greenish, but you could see your feet, and the dust clouding around your steps. The water was warm enough to not give you the chills, but cool enough to be refreshing.

Once the water hit your hips, you took your shirt off and threw it a few feet away from Daryl, joining your shorts, and shortly after your bra. You watched him finish his contraption and fill it.

“Should have some water in an hour or so…” he looked up and saw you, then quickly looked back at his bottle.

“Maybe we could catch a fish or something, too,” you said, smiling at his back. “You should join me in here.”

“Nah” he shook his head.

“Yeah, when was the last time you got cleaned up?”

“I ain’t gonna, someone needs to be a lookout.” He looked up at you, standing his ground. “Anyway, I gotta piss.”

He started walking away and you yelled to him, “Yeah, sure you do, Dixon.” You splashed his way, but he had already walked behind the trees.

A noise came from your left, behind a couple of thick trees. Two walkers stumbled out, slipping on the sandy hill. You didn’t have any weapons on you, and getting back over to your clothes seemed like a death wish. They were closer to the clothes and things than you were. Daryl didn’t even have his crossbow with him, it was in the pile next to the water filter.

You yelled for Daryl, hoping he’d get back before the walkers could reach you. You yelled again, and it drew their attention. They were about at the edge of the water now, and you were fucked… but a whistle came out of the woods.

Daryl showed up and whistled loudly to catch the attention of the dead walking toward you. It worked. They started toward him at a slow pace, and you ran over to the pile of stuff. You picked one off with the crossbow. Daryl tripped backwards on a rock, and the walker stumbled towards him, wishing to bite into the leg that was trying to kick it backwards. He grabbed the rock, lifted it over his head, and smashed it down onto the walker, and hitting it again smashed his head open, covering Daryl in it’s blood. He leaned back and dropped the rock. He took a second to catch his breath.

“Hey, thanks” You said to him as you were naked and dripping like a wet dog.

He sighed and raised his eyebrows. Which you will take as a “no problem.”

Daryl’s hair dripped with blood, guts, and rotting chunks of flesh. His shirt was wet, red, and sweaty. The muddy sand covered his pants and hands, leaving him dirtier than before.

“I guess you have to join me now” you said, still mostly naked.

He begrudgingly kicked off his boots, and slid his vest off down his shoulders, letting it drop on the floor. He started walking to the edge of the water, when you had to stop him.

“What, NO!” You said haulting him, “You are not still wearing your socks.”

He took off his socks, and his pants. He walked into the lake, a couple feet in and the water hit the bottom of his shirt.

You never took Daryl as the type of person to not be okay with taking his shirt off, but here he was: standing in a lake with his shirt on, contemplating whether he should take it off or not. He stood there for a couple seconds before looking at you, and when you gave him a reassuring smile, he took it off. He looked good with it off, you didn’t see a problem, until he turned around.

He whipped around fast to throw his shirt on land, and as he did, you saw his back. He was covered in scars. Yeah, some could be new, from fighting, from surviving, but you take it he’d been surviving for a lot longer than the rest of you had.

The slashes that riddled his skin were old. He could have gotten most of them when he was still a kid. You swallowed hard, he turned and faced you but neither of you met each other's eyes. He got quiet. And as his hand pensively rubbed the back of his neck, as he thought about what you must think of him.

“Hey, come on in the water’s fine,” you said to ease the tension.

It seemingly worked, because the next thing he did was dive under, swimming to you in a second. The water rippled along the path he had swam, and broke around his emerging body. You met his eye. He nodded to you as a thanks, and you shook your head back at him in a no problem kind of way. This practice had become routine, it was easier than constantly owing thanks to the other person for some trivial task such as saving their lives.

He broke eye contact and looked down, “Still gotta piss.”

You snickered. Then stepping back a couple of feet you gestured for him to go right ahead.

He looked at you, head cocked a little, and then the realization hit and his ears turned bright red. He turned around, and you got a better look at his scars. Some were short slashes, some longer, and others crossed over each other. You couldn’t fathom the person that would hit a child, let alone Daryl; Daryl was sweet, and could never have done something that deserved this treatment.

He finished up and faced you, but didn’t meet your eyes. You got a look at him, the man that just pissed in the pool in front of you, his ears were red as well as his cheeks making a bridge across his nose. The blush trailed down to his upper chest in splotches, like watercolors splaying out.

He chewed the corner of his thumb and said, “Ya’ know, I used to piss the bed as a kid.”

“I mean we all did,” You said. “Come here.”

He complied, “Nah, I mean ‘til I’s like 8 or so.”

“Bend over,” you told him.

He leaned back and you started washing his hair for him, detangling it with your fingers, and picking things out of it like you were monkeys.

“I remember a couple times it happened, had to sneak out late at night and do my laundry in the bathroom, so no one’d hear me. But this once, my dad wasn’t home so, I didn’t get… but my mom had this whole ‘nother way of doing it. She took my clothes. Pinned me down, Merle helped. She put a diaper on me, made me sleep outside.”

“When you were 8?” You cupped some water and dumped it over his head.

“Uh huh, made me wear ‘em to school, too. Under my clothes. Said if I took ‘em off she’s gonna tell my dad, so I didn’t.” He went back to biting his thumb.

“That shouldn’t have happened to you,” you said, moving to wash his shoulders.

He shrugged, and flinched away when you ran your finger over a scar on his back.

“You know, stress and trauma cause children to start wetting the bed later on in childhood, it's called enuresis, it wasn’t your fault,” You splashed water on his shoulders, noticing the freckles made by the sun.

“Done?” He asked, standing up straight.

“What?”

“Am I done?” he asked and shook his hair out like a dog.

“Yeah, you’re good.”

Daryl quickly made his return to land, you however stayed in the water until the filter was done giving you each a bottle. Every once in a while you catch him glance over at you floating naked in the lake, but his eyes would quickly divert.