#and now we push onwards
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dailypav · 9 months ago
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Drawing Pav every day until he's playable: Day 100
Pav wins the festival (somehow)
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Wowie 100 days!! I decided to make something special for the occasion
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volivolition · 7 months ago
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[imagines animatics] cool. anyway. [start crying]
#thinking about truce by TOP again!! literally the animatic would be called Truce (with the Furies) and it'd be so gentle and sweet...#harry being smothered by the nightmare and the bright yellow hands of the motorics reaching in to pull him from the dark.#''now the night is coming to in an end'' with viscal and concept tracking the movement of the sky with logic saying ''the sun will rise''#authority and phys int insistently and affirmatively tugging him along by his hands ''and we will try again.''#volition for the first ''stay alive / stay alive for me'' clasping his hands in his and pressing his forehead to harry's#endurance joining him showing both of their morale/health bars ''you will die'' i really want echem for ''but now your life is free~''#''take pride in what is sure to die'' all of the skills gathered behind him to push him onward through the dark#half light and pain thresh for ''i will fear the night again'' esprit and empathy for ''i hope im not my only friend''#shivers for the second ''stay alive / stay alive for me'' holding harry in her palm and pressing a kiss to his forehead.#ancient reptilian and limbic ''you will die...'' and the rest of the skills chorusing together: ''but now your life is free''#it ends with all the skills sitting on shivers's shoulders with harry standing on her hand. and it flickers to harry standing in the same#position but the background changes to an apartment balcony watching the sunrise with all four color skill orbs above his head#do you see it do you see it. its such a short song surely i could do it. (<- thought this about a previous animatic idea as well -_-)#chemi honey you havent even finished your skills designs yet calm down#arughghh... <3#chemi chats#concepts canvas
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nerdygaymormon · 2 years ago
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The LGBTQ community has seen controversy regarding acceptance of different groups (bisexual and transgender individuals have sometimes been marginalized by the larger community), but the term LGBT has been a positive symbol of inclusion and reflects the embrace of different identities and that we’re stronger together and need each other. While there are differences, we all face many of the same challenges from broader society.
In the 1960′s, in wider society the meaning of the word gay transitioned from ‘happy’ or ‘carefree’ to predominantly mean ‘homosexual’ as they adopted the word as was used by homosexual men, except that society also used it as an umbrella term that meant anyone who wasn’t cisgender or heterosexual. The wider queer community embraced the word ‘gay’ as a mark of pride.
The modern fight for queer rights is considered to have begun with The Stonewall Riots in 1969 and was called the Gay Liberation Movement and the Gay Rights Movement.
The acronym GLB surfaced around this time to also include Lesbian and Bisexual people who felt “gay” wasn’t inclusive of their identities. 
Early in the gay rights movement, gay men were largely the ones running the show and there was a focus on men’s issues. Lesbians were unhappy that gay men dominated the leadership and ignored their needs and the feminist fight. As a result, lesbians tended to focus their attention on the Women’s Rights Movement which was happening at the same time. This dominance by gay men was seen as yet one more example of patriarchy and sexism. 
In the 1970′s, sexism and homophobia existed in more virulent forms and those biases against lesbians also made it hard for them to find their voices within women’s liberation movements. Betty Friedan, the founder of the National Organization for Women (NOW), commented that lesbians were a “lavender menace” that threatened the political efficacy of the organization and of feminism and many women felt including lesbians was a detriment.
In the 80s and 90s, a huge portion of gay men were suffering from AIDS while the lesbian community was largely unaffected. Lesbians helped gay men with medical care and were a massive part of the activism surrounding the gay community and AIDS. This willingness to support gay men in their time of need sparked a closer, more supportive relationship between both groups, and the gay community became more receptive to feminist ideals and goals. 
Approaching the 1990′s it was clear that GLB referred to sexual identity and wasn’t inclusive of gender identity and T should be added, especially since trans activist have long been at the forefront of the community’s fight for rights and acceptance, from Stonewall onward. Some argued that T should not be added, but many gay, lesbian and bisexual people pointed out that they also transgress established gender norms and therefore the GLB acronym should include gender identities and they pushed to include T in the acronym. 
GLBT became LGBT as a way to honor the tremendous work the lesbian community did during the AIDS crisis. 
Towards the end of the 1990s and into the 2000s, movements took place to add additional letters to the acronym to recognize Intersex, Asexual, Aromantic, Agender, and others. As the acronym grew to LGBTIQ, LGBTQIA, LGBTQIAA, many complained this was becoming unwieldy and started using a ‘+’ to show LGBT aren’t the only identities in the community and this became more common, whether as LGBT+ or LGBTQ+. 
In the 2010′s, the process of reclaiming the word “queer” that began in the 1980′s was largely accomplished. In the 2020′s the LGBTQ+ acronym is used less often as Queer is becoming the more common term to represent the community. 
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thewispsings · 27 days ago
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head over heels | cl16 mv1 op81
charles leclerc, oscar piastri, max verstappen x reader
a ferrari driver, a mclaren driver, and a redbull driver all interested in the same girl…this won’t end well.
notes: i decided to make this a series! now should i make this poly?…
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liked by patriciooward, redbullracing, user1, and 43,917 others!
yourusername: what a better place to have your first day then good ol’ texas! formula one here i come 🤠
view comments below!
user2: omg i totally forgot you are going to start interviewing for f1
user3: DUDE ME TOO
user4: im so excited!! i hope she does challenges like she did with indycar
patriciooward: what a coincidence! i just happen to be in texas too!!
yourusername; you followed me here, stalker 😣
patriciooward: LIES! i am here for a JOB
yourusername: well so am I
patriciooward: YOU ALWAYS COPY ME
user5: indycar, i will never forgive you for separating these too
indycar: come back to us 🥹
user6: YOU FIRED HER???
user7: first you fire her because she asked for a raise AND THEN you get in her comment section talking about ‘come back’ yall are SICK
user8: SHE DIDNT EVEN ASK FOR A RAISE!! she was offered more by f1 and instead of fighting back, indycar just decided to fire her??? like???
user9: companies will always prove that they do not gaf about you
liked by yourusername
user10: wtv, yn onto BIGGER and BETTER things
user11: when are you going to start posting on youtube again? 😣 we miss you :(
yourusername: sooner then you think!!
user12: you fit in with the texans so well
user13: yeehaw! 🤠
user14: congratulations on the new job!! i hope your first day goes well :))
user15: first days always make me so nervous
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liked by user16, and 81,720 others!
kymillman: formula one driver down!
a mere seconds after this photo was taken, charles leclerc took a tumble on the texas pavement, following a tiny interaction with a new worker here on the track 😉 landing face first and awkwardly trying to play it off.
he is okay! just a bruised ego
view comments below!
user17: this is embarrassing, even for charles
user18: when i’m in a who can embarrass themselves more contest, but charles is already there
user19: IN FRONT OF A PRETTY GIRL TOO?? no you’d never see my face again
user20: it was BECAUSE of the pretty girl 😭 she smiled at him and suddenly was on the ground
user21: that’s humiliating
user22: i keep watching the video…why do his legs just like, give out?
user23: THERES A VIDEO?
user24: ig being a f1 driver doesn’t give you game
user25: this means max is going to win come sunday
user26: okay grandpa…how about we get you back to bed?
user27: i need yns reaction to this
user28: i think the worst part is that she didn’t even notice he fell…
user29: pls tell me your joking
user30: no 😭 she just walked away and didn’t spare him a single glance
user31: i needed this today…thank you
user32: i love to see the ferrari fall
user32: no pun intended
user33: the video just gave me the biggest second hand embarrassment
user32: i actually cringed into myself.
user33: it’s him getting up and looking around to see if anyone saw that gets me
user34: i hope this gets brought up multiple times during the weekend
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liked by user34, and 491,017 others!
maxvertappen1: feels good to be back on the top step in the sprint 💪 onwards to qualifying, let's keep pushing @:redbullracing 👊
view comments below!
user36: are you not ashamed? are you not embarrassed?
user37: have you no shame, max?
user38: guys i’m so confused
user39: this weekend has been so crazy
user40: what’s going on?
user46: your cardboard cut out is sleeping on the couch tonight.
user43: GUYS WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT. I FEEL LEFT OUT AND I DO NOT LIKE IT.
user44: max was flirting with an interviewer today.
user43: WHAT
user45: was he flirting? or was he just being nice and yall are making it a big deal 🙄
user44: when the interview was over he stayed in his spot staring at the woman until she gave him attention and then asked her if she was new.
user44: she said yes and asked if it was that obvious. he said, “to me, yes.” AND THEN blushed when the interviewer reminded him that she did in fact have others to interview
user44: AND THEN, told her, “if you need any help around the paddock, let me know.”
user45: okay so maybe he was flirting 🙄
user46; what’s the big deal guys? let max get some with out you guys embarrassing him!
user48: HES embarrassing HIMSELF. does he not have decorum? self respect?
user49: okay but was the interviewer into it??
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liked by user50, landonorris, and 14,926 others!
f1gossip: as austin comes to an end, i would like to reminisce that these three men, managed to flirt with the same girl (an interviewer, as a matter of fact), in a span of three days. do they know they are flirting with the same girl? are they into that? or is this all just a hilarious incident?
view comments below!
user51: this is the funniest thing to happen all weekend
user52: i see max and charles doing this, but OSCAR??
user53: yns following went up by 20k
user54: I WAS THERE WHEN SHS WAS AT LESS THEN 4k, SHE BETTER NOT FORGET ME!!!
user55: people still don’t even know who she is 😖 they keep calling her ‘the interviewer’
user56: i hope she doesn’t get hate for this…
user57; to be fair oscar could’ve just been being nice?? like taking a photo for someone doesn’t mean you’re into them
user58: i could not survive as an f1 driver
user59: like imagine your just tryna flirt with a girl, and suddenly it’s all over the internet of how embarrassingly you failed (max)
user60: it’s yns first race and this is how it goes??
user61: that interviewer is soo lucky
user62: okay but if you were the interviewer, who would you pick?
user63: max
user64: oscar 100000%
user65: charles, are you guys crazy?
user66: lando
user67: that wasn’t a option?…
user66: i don’t care
user67: has nobody realized that lando liked this 😭?
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oscarpiastri has followed yourusername!
charles_leclerc has followed yourusername!
maxvertaappen1 has followed yourusername!
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cloudwisp · 6 months ago
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𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 𝐠𝐨𝐣𝐨 · 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐨𝐟 𝐮𝐬
contents: fluff. satoru makes sweet promises about the future with you. 800 wc.
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“What would you say if I retired today?”
The words left his mouth so easily—like they’re one of the many frivolous musings that comes and goes, an afterthought when the shared laughter and playful teasing had died down a bit. Behind his loose grin, Satoru carefully studies your face as he weighs the question in your mind, as though they bear no consequence and he wants to hear your answer no matter how serious or unserious he’s being.
“Retire…” You drawl thoughtfully, “You mean put your sorcerer work behind you?” You more than readily welcome the idea than you let on, it’s all you can think about sometimes and keeps you awake at night. You knew about the dangers and the shortcomings that his lifestyle posed, but your love for him outweighs the troubles and the fears and the risks that come with loving someone like him—that is Satoru Gojo.
Not the Strongest Sorcerer, the leader of something, just a normal person who has a fondness for the sweeter things and never lets good humor go to waste if he could help it. If he truly decided to retire from now onwards he won’t have to participate in another dangerous mission again, no more of those dreadful overseas assignments that keeps you both apart for long stretches of time, and you could get used to knowing that he gets to come home to you every night.
“Well, okay. I suppose I could become the breadwinner for once.”
Satoru lets out a pleased laugh. His arm that encircled your waist tightens as he squeezes you with great affection, receiving a small oof from you and quick gentle pats of surrender before he crushes your lungs. He’s sitting on an abundance of wealth for the both of you to lead a comfortable life, and you’re cute for worrying about finances in the foreseeable future. Maybe he doesn’t spoil his precious sweetheart far enough, he thinks.
“I guess you’ll need to work triple time in order to afford my expensive taste.” He teases, pinching your cheek between his fingers. “We can be a dynamic duo. You can work while I stay home.” He mutters softly, letting his hand settle against the nape of your neck while his thumb brushes against your cheek. “Would I be a good househusband?”
“You’d be awful.” You were a little quick to say, almost shuddering at the thought. He feigns a hurt expression with the slightest furrow to his brows and an adorable pout lines his lips. He had an affinity for sweets as shown in your fully stocked pantry but navigating the rest of the kitchen would cause quite an upheaval despite his best efforts. “Maybe at first anyway.”
“You think I won’t be able to clean or cook properly?” Satoru complains dramatically, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck and shoulder. You attempt to push him away between your giggles as the ends of his hair tickles you and he gently nips away at your skin, but his large build unsurprisingly wouldn’t budge. He lays a light kiss here and there shortly after, his voice lowering into a playful whisper. “Giving up on me already, huh? Too bad, that was your only chance of seeing me in an apron~”
Satoru comes up to meet your gaze and he catches your lips for a sweet taste, the warmth of his body sinking into yours and your arms wrap around him to bring him in a little deeper. “Are you saying I wouldn’t be able to control myself around you if I came home to you wearing an apron?” It was your turn to pinch his cheeks fondly and you consider something. “But it’s a nice thought—you wanting to lead a different life.”
“I want to make you a promise,” he begins slowly, and there’s a beautiful look behind his cerulean hues filled with just pure adoration and love that’s reserved only for you. “When my time comes and I’m ready to call it quits, I’ll retire with you by my side. We’ll move somewhere peaceful and quiet—as secluded as you like. We could even travel the world if that's what my baby wishes, just the two of us.”
“That’s a big promise you’re making me.” You raise an eyebrow at him. But you like the dream that he’s sharing with you, no matter how close or how far out of reach it may seem. And so, a warm smile softens your face. “Just me and you?”
“Yes, Angel.” He grins happily, pulling you closer so his heartbeat matches yours and the sound lulls into one under the moon’s gaze. As long as you keep giving him every excuse in the world to keep you within arms’ reach—forever, then it’s contentment and peace and everything else in between he’ll find with you. If you’re there, then that’s home for him. “Just us and the sky.”
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꒰ note ᰔ still coping with everything that’s happened along with ch. 261 so hope you enjoyed this something silly and something fluff for our sweet loverboy satoru. ꒱
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no-144444 · 2 months ago
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Judgy McJudgy Pants or Osc? You decide!- o.piastri
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Day 9 of fic-tober! fic-tober masterlist
summary: you and oscar are getting closer, or are you?
part one | part two | part three | part four
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You stepped out onto the asphalt with a smile. Another weekend, another race, another day in your perfect job. Well, maybe not perfect. Oscar Piastri, aka Judgy Mcjudgy Pants was somehow still in the paddock and somehow still getting on your nerves. Anyways, Thursday meant media day, which meant you got onto the track early, usually with some of the F2 or F1 Academy drivers for an early morning cycle. By early, it really meant early. 5am start, and since it was Austin, spectators were already filtering in. Running beside you today was none other than Judgy Mcjudgy Pants himself, Oscar Piastri.
“So JMcJP,” you started as your cycle began. “How are you feeling about this weekend?”
He chuckled at the nickname, then answered with a simple ‘good’. You rolled your eyes. You had never been able to get good answers from him, no matter what. He’d always be too busy giggling like a schoolboy to answer your questions, so you saved the shitty ones for him.
“Descriptive,” you deadpanned. “Now, since we at SkySportF1 are so nice, we decided to bring someone special in to interview you!”
“Not just because you don’t want to do it?” he smirked.
“Everyone welcome Logan Sargeant!” you ignored his snarky comment and turned to Logan, who appeared beside you as you cycled. You handed him over the mic and cue cards and just focused on your ride, off-camera. The track was a little over 5 kilometres, so it wouldn't be a long interview.
“So Oscar,” Logan cleared his throat. “Anyone special in your life at the moment? Other than your debilitating crush on our lovely F1 presenter Y/n Y/l/n?”
Oscar’s face dropped and he stopped cycling. “This isn’t live right?”
“It’s not, don’t worry,” Jordan, your camera operator, explained with an apologetic smile on her face.
“Thank God,” he cheered, relieved. “Logan you asshole!” Oscar pushed into him, with a smile, but pushing all the same.
“What? You need to confess eventually?!” Logan scodlded, somehow staying on his bike.
“Not right now though, I was making good progress!”
“What, you could get through 3 whole words without giggling, or are you up to 4?” Logan mocked.
“I am a grown man-”
“Maybe I’d believe you if you just had the balls to ask her out.”
“You two are so slow, hurry up!” you called from about two hundred metres in front of them. “Alright, next question!” Logan moved on, cycling onwards again. “Who’s your best friend on the track?”
“Well I would say you but you’ve left us for Indycar, so… probably Lando, Alex, or Zhou,” he nodded.
“And why is that?”
“Lando and I are teammates, Alex and you were teammates so I saw you two together a lot, and Zhou and I were in F2 together,” he shrugged.
Logan’s eyes widened at the next question. “Who’s your favourite SkyF1 presenter?”
Oscar sighed, but told the truth anyway. “Y/n, probably.”
“I hope you’re not talking bad about me!” you shouted back at them, even further ahead now.
“Only good things!” Logan shouted back with a smile as Oscar fell deeper into his embarrassment. “Alright Oscar, who would you choose as your date to the prize-giving gala at the end of the year?”
Oscar sighed again, knowing what he was subjecting himself to. “Probably Y/n.”
Logan laughed as Oscar sighed, and an awful idea popped into his head. He turned to the camera with a big smile, and said. “If Oscar wins today we should make Y/n go as your date for the gala.”
Oscar’s face filled with dread but he knew how much Sky liked to torture their hosts, so he knew they’d love the idea. You? Not so much. In a selfish way, he was pretty happy that Logan had said it, because it gave him a chance with you. A whole night with you to himself? Sounded perfect to him. All he had to do was win the race.
“Y/n! We have an idea!” Logan shouted to you. “If Oscar wins today you have to go as his date to the prize-giving ceremony at the end of the year!”
You groaned as you reached the starting/ finish line again. “Do I have to?” you looked to Ted Kravtiz, technically he was your boss. He smirked and nodded, and you started hoping that Oscar wouldn’t win today. “Sounds like a deal,” you said, unenthused.
Logan cheered as Oscar’s sense of dread deepened, and he started to feel bad that they were forcing you to spend time with him. This couldn’t just be about the shoes, right? You had to hate him for another reason. It’s just… you never dropped the facade, in front of him anyway. You were always mildly irritated with him (except when he won his first race), and if you weren’t mildly irritated, you were completely. The cameras cut, Logan started chatting with you as Oscar stood there, catastrophizing even more.
You watched as Oscar essentially left the room, though he was standing right there. You’d never seen him get like that, he was always so calm and so collected, and it was almost worrying to see him be anything else. After a few minutes he left without a word to either of you, and you started fearing the worst. Maybe you’d brought this JMcJP thing too far, maybe he hated you, maybe you should go talk to him.
୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ After a few interviews, you found yourself walking around the McLaren motorhome trying to find Oscar. Eventually, you found his driver’s room and knocked on the door hesitantly. “Oscar?”
It swung open and you were met with a very confused looking Oscar who pulled you into his room and shut the door behind you two. He put the back of his hand against your forehead, seemingly… checking for a temperature?
“Are you feeling alright?” he asked. “You never call me Oscar.”
You rolled your eyes at his awful excuse for a joke, and sighed. “Y’know I did come in here to apologise, but I don’t think I’m going to do that now-”
You turned for the door but he grabbed your hand and pulled you back. He raised an eyebrow. “What would you be apologising for?”
“Logan this morning, you don’t have to use me as your date for the prize-giving ceremony, use your girlfriend-”
“Don’t have one,” he answered quickly. “And I need to win, right?”
“Right,” you smiled. “But seriously, don’t ever feel pressured to like… do what Ted says. Or be around me, I know we don’t always get along, but it is all in good fun, right?”
He nodded, all too happy that he could finally get through a conversation without giggling. “Right.”
“Well, I’ll see you tomorrow then,” you smiled, going for the door handle but once again, he pulled you back.
“You don’t just dislike me because of the shoes, right?” he asked.
You chuckled. “What would you say if I don’t dislike you, but I am still hurt over the shoes?”
He rolled his eyes. “Oh good,” he chuckled. “And how can I pay my penance for that?”
You thought about it for a moment, then smirked. “Winning today would be pretty helpful, I wouldn't have to think about a date then.” He smirked and nodded, finally letting go of you and letting you leave the room.
He had to win today. ୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ
“And it’s Oscar Piastri who crosses the finish line first, making this his third career win!”
Fuck off. He won. And you weren’t even mad.
Ted looked at you with a smirk. “Not needing a date for the ceremony then?”
“Shut up,” you scolded, playfully hitting him. ୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ
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navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)
fic-tober masterlist
part one | part two | part three | part four
taglist: @anotherapollokid @theseerbetweenus @simbaaas-stuff @5sospenguinqueen @yootvi
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kazumist · 5 months ago
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WHY DON'T WE FALL IN LOVE TONIGHT ?
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✩ — in which you found yourself executing a ruse with the known duke of meropide, wriothesley. what could possibly go wrong? (many things, apparently.)
✩ — prompt: panache — you agree to a fake courtship with another. (for @xianyoon's "a night to remember" event (event two hehehe))
✩ — includes: wriothesley x f!reader. royalty!au. fluff, angst if you squint, hurt/comfort if you also squint, comedy squeezed in just a teensy bit. cw: alcohol consumption (reader ends up taking a shot or two) one crazy scene in the garden but it's nothing too explicit i swear they just get a little carried away OOPS. wc: 8001 yes you read that fucking right (i went insane). fake dating trope went a bit overboard my bad (heavily based by bridgerton season 1 minus the explicit scenes LMAO). one pride and prejudice and meme reference line sneaked in (if u get my reference then ilysm i need to kiss u). other fontaine characters make a cameo yipee!! full fic of this silly post i made back then but i changed things up. kinda
✩ — please reblog !! it wld help me tons :,)
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love at first sight was a frivolous belief for a man like wriothesley.
romance, in general, was a frivolous belief for him in the first place. as much as his father pushes him into the marriage market for all of the women in the kingdom of fontaine, he would always find his way out of it. but he does admit—the nagging could get quite... overbearing sometimes. romance almost never crosses wriothesley’s mind. he shuns every vigorous mother that presents their daughter towards him in hopes that he’ll take an interest in them (which he never does; wriothesley believes that marriage is too big of a responsibility for him).
a ball is never uncommon in society at this age. and certainly it isn’t uncommon for his father to urge him to grace these balls with his presence on behalf of his former duke of a father. and tonight wasn’t so different from the other balls he previously attended. wriothesley holds back the urge to roll his eyes after he excuses himself (for the nth time, he thinks) from another mother who tried to offer her daughter up for his hand in marriage. it was exhausting, to say the least. wriothesley wants nothing more than to leave at the moment. however, to his dismay, the ball had just begun not too long ago.
it’s another long night for him.
sharing some conversations with queen furina’s royal advisor, neuvillette, wasn’t a bad way to pass the time. and it certainly was effective because people were far too nervous to approach him with the queen nearby. the friendship he shared with the royal advisor wasn’t new knowledge to society. almost everyone and their mothers had heard about the tale of the current duke meropide and the queen’s royal advisor being close friends during their early days of childhood and onwards. though wriothesley sometimes admits—he surely misses his youthful days.
it’s not like he's that old now. he’s currently thriving at the young age of twenty-five! not too young, not too old either. “and just how long are you going to stand by my side tonight, wriothesley?” neuvillette asks, his eyes focused on the crowd below him. there were pairs dancing gracefully in the middle of the venue as the quintet orchestra played by the side. wriothesley doesn’t glance at him as he answers. “just a bit longer, i suppose. i could still feel their eyes boring holes into me.” he mumbles the last part, leaning closer only for neuvillette to hear, as he refers to the mothers that attempted to make their advances on him earlier. neuvillette simply chuckles at his remark.
“still refusing marriage, i see?” he replies. 
“i’m confident that you’re well aware of what my answer to that is going to be, neuvillette.”
wriothesley feels comfortable like this. but he’s aware that he couldn’t spend all of his time by his friend’s side. soon after, wriothesley decides to take his leave after making sure his coast is clear. he then exited nearby and found himself wandering into the garden. surely, the workers at the house of hearth had done a splendid job maintaining this garden. he reminds himself to commend duke arlecchino for this if he ever gets the chance.
the wind tonight was quite cold, yet it’s nothing wriothesley couldn’t handle. he stumbles upon what seemed to be the center of the garden, surprised to see a fountain there. the moonlight shines brightly in this area—but what actually made wriothesley curious was who was sitting by the fountain? he steadily approaches, careful not to make the wrong move and sits by the fountain as well. there was still some distance between the two of you—a lot of it. it would be indecent of him to burst into a woman’s personal space. his father did not raise him to be that sort of man.
“what brings you here tonight?” he suddenly finds himself asking. it was a poor attempt at small talk, he thinks (he could do much better than that, he swears). wriothesley doesn’t even dare steal a glance at you, as much as he wanted to. you hesitated before answering him, still sinking in the fact that you suddenly have company in this garden now. “avoiding society as usual, especially the members of society who cannot give up offering their hand of marriage towards me, i suppose,” he hears you sigh. huh, how ironic. did wriothesley just bump into someone who suffers from the same problem as him? 
the answer was most definitely yes.
“oh, what a coincidence—i suffer from such a predicament as well.” he chuckles bitterly in reply—too bitter for his liking. he didn’t want to suddenly ruin the mood now; the conversation had barely even started. “is that so? i’m delighted to know that i’m not alone in this boat then.” the tone of your chuckle was different from the chuckle you got from wriothesley. a comfortable silence was then enveloped over the both of you, enjoying the scenery around. he takes this as his chance to steal a glance, and he quickly takes it back. yet he finds himself glancing again.
and again
and again. 
he doesn’t quite understand it himself. however, there was something about you that had this alluring effect on him of some sort. he just couldn’t tear his eyes off of you for some reason. “enjoying the view much, duke?” you asked, meeting his gaze. wriothesley then turns away suddenly, embarrassed that he was caught red handed in the act of practically ogling at you. his father did not raise him to be like this at all. he did not spend his childhood and teenage years training how to be a proper gentleman for his debut in society just to be ogling at a lady he just met at a ball. he needs to snap out of it.
“my apologies, but how could i resist putting my attention on a stunning lady like you?” he tries to play it cool. (keyword: tries.) it was a strategy that he learned to adapt every since he made his debut into society. playing it cool always works for him—surely his old trick wouldn’t fail at him now of all times, right? but wriothesley soon snapped out of his thoughts, and he then asked another question. “wait, you know who i am?” 
you were taken aback by his words. is he seriously asking you that? “who wouldn’t know you? you’re quite famous with the other ladies.” you asked him back. he simply replies with a short “fair point.” and silence takes over once again. but this time, it was a bit awkward. you decided to introduce yourself to him, stating your name and title. he nods in acknowledgement of your introduction. he has heard of you before, of course. your family has quite a reputation in society, making you get quite a bit of attention at formal parties as well. 
wriothesley doesn’t dare steal a glance at you again, as he has seemed to learn his lesson from what happened earlier. you, on the other hand, took this as your chance to take your leave. “although your company has been quite interesting, duke meropide, i’m afraid that i must take my leave first. i seem to have forgotten that i excused myself from lord jackson earlier.” you got up from your seat, already walking away from the fountain—that is, until wriothesley speaks.
“lord jackson? you mean the lord jackson who’s known for his… awful history in relationships?”
“i don’t believe there’s any other lord jackson in this society, duke meropide.” you turn around to face him.
“what business do you have with him?” why am i even asking? he thinks.
“he’s simply another one of the men who my mother had decided to set me up with for marriage. i was told to accompany him for tonight but you see, his company isn’t really... the best.” you replied, choosing your word carefully. despite you not liking lord jackson at all, it would be informal for you to speak ill of him when he could be the man you’ll actually marry.
actually, scratch that. as if you’ll ever allow yourself to marry a man like him. lord jackson was a creep, to say the least. you were aware of the talk that goes around him. but your dear mother is still kept in the dark about these stories, and she decided to set you up with him without your prior knowledge. so by technicality, you really had no choice. “you can’t marry him.” the man in front of you suddenly says.
“i beg your pardon?” you asked, afraid that you misheard him the first time. “you... you can’t marry him.” he repeats and then he continues. “i mean, surely you have heard the news about him—his temper makes him vicious. your marriage with him wouldn’t prosper at all.” you held back the urge to scoff at him. “i appreciate your concern, my duke, but our society works in an unfair way at this age. i cannot just declare that i do not wish to marry, unlike you. that is a privilege that i cannot simply afford.” you shot back at him.
wriothesley suddenly feels like a light bulb in his head has switched on.
“we could pretend to form an attachment.” he then says. you were getting more baffled by the second this conversation held on longer. “whatever do you mean?” you weren’t stupid. but you refused to believe that what he’s hinting at is also the one you foolishly thought. “with you in my arm, people would think that i have finally found my duchess. as for you, your mother would raise her standards and find more suitable candidates for your hand in marriage. because although i could be wrong, but have you ever told your mother what traits you find in a man?” he replies, a small smile slowly tugging on his lips. he clearly enjoys this idea.
“i… i suppose not.” he got you there. “but this is an absurd idea.” you protested.
“i find it quite brilliant, if i do say so myself.”
“you do know the risks of what you’re proposing right now, am i correct?”
“i do. but you do not wish to marry me, and i do not wish to marry you, so whatever should you have to lose?” he’s insisting. he’s insisting like this plan would work perfectly fine for the both of your benefits (well, if you were to be completely honest, there is a chance for it to be successful. but you grew up to believe that you shouldn’t expect for things to go so smoothly in your life). “i…” a lost of words. that’s what you are. too many possibilities are running through your head at the moment.
however, the duke did have one hell of a good point.
“fine. you got yourself a deal.”
and that’s how you got roped into the situation you have now. with an arm interlocked with the duke meropide’s, all eyes were bound to set upon you both. wriothesley could see the amusement in neuvillette’s expression; the same goes for the hint of amusement in queen furina’s eyes as she spots them in the crowd. wriothesley slowly guides you towards the dance floor, just in time for another dance to begin. gracefully, you took his hand as you step onto the dance floor with him. a familiar song started to play, one that you remember memorizing as dance class was mandatory for being a debutante in society.
“are you bothered?” he then asks in a whisper as he twirls you around. “whatever for?” you ask him back. “the staring. i could feel all of them looking at us right now, honestly,” he chuckles lowly. “hm, i’m trying not to mind it that much. but i suppose you’re probably enjoying all of this attention now, aren’t you?” a simple tease on your part, and wriothesley smiled at that. “my, are we on casual terms now?” 
“chemistry should be a major factor that we should have in this plan, yes? so we might as well start by being more casual with one another.”
“indeed. glad to know that you’re quick to pick up on things.” he says. “of course i am. what do you take me for, duke meropide?” you asked him, a slight pout forming on your lips. and wriothesley smiled at that again before replying. “nothing offensive, that i can assure you.”
“i’m delighted to know that the ever-so-famous duke of meropide doesn’t harbor any sour feelings towards me then.” 
it was a bit suffocating, all of the staring. yet at the same time, you understood why they’re staring in the first place. wriothesley, the current duke of meropide, is suddenly on the dance floor with a young woman. and he seems to be quite interested in her as well. people would assume you’re the reason why the duke has rejected so many marriage offers up until now—because he already had you in the first place.
the other unwanted attention you’d get from that assumption alone was enough to make you distracted to the point where you almost stepped on wriothesley’s foot. “i—my apologies, duke.” you stammered. “it’s alright. just look at me,” he says. you scrunched your eyebrows at him in confusion. “pardon?”
“just look at me; don’t focus on anyone else. it will help ease your mind.”
with hesitance, you followed what he said and locked your eyes with his. the duke’s eyes were a fine shade of grey. a unique color, if you do say so yourself. and surely he was correct. shifting your focus and thoughts to him did ease you from all of the other eyes that are locked onto both of your figures that’s moving along with the music.
time felt like it had stopped, as it also felt like you were the only ones present in the room.
to wriothesley’s surprise, the night passed by faster when he was with you. because before he knew it, he was already accompanying you back to your carriage. a lot of things had happened in the span of just a few hours. but wriothesley does not regret a single second of it, now that he recalls everything again. he wonders why—was it because he encountered you in the garden tonight?
maybe. that’s where it all started anyway.
he quickly snapped out of his trail of thoughts as he heard you speak. “i suppose i’ll see you soon then?” you asked him. “mhm, i suppose so. safe travels, m’lady.” he bids you his farewell by gently grabbing ahold of your hand and pressing a soft kiss onto your knuckle, refusing to break his eye contact with you as the footman closed your carriage’s door.
“safe travels as well, my duke.”
— — — — — — — — 
word spread fast about you and the duke of meropide. your mother was shocked at the news—yet happy that you finally became “independent on finding your match” as per her words. you had no specific agenda for the day, so, as you usually do whenever you are free, you decided to visit the modiste—where your good friend chiori resides. 
the sound of the bell chiming as the door opened made chiori perk up to see who would possibly need help making a new dress. but when her eyes met yours, she just knew you weren’t here to ask for a new dress. “i heard about the commotion last night.” she says, setting down a cup of tea for you as she takes a sip from her own cup, waiting for your response. “commotion is a vulgar term for it, chiori. i prefer to call it a memorable event.”
“i suppose it’s memorable for you to enter with your arm wrapped around the duke meropide just like that. how did it even happen? i vividly recall you telling me that you had no intention of marriage.”
“it’s… a long story,” you sighed, taking a sip from your own cup of tea. “oh? are you implying that there’s more to this than meets the eye, then?”
“i guess you could say that.”
“well, then tell me all about it.”
“i… i can't. my apologies, chiori.” it's not like you didn't trust her. in fact, there are more secrets that are held within this fine modiste’s place than one could ever imagine. but it was a silent and automatic agreement between you and the duke that no one must know of your plan. (although you already hinted to chiori that there's more to it than meets the eye.) besides, chiori is a smart woman who has known you before she could even have her place built.
she doesn't need to be a genius to find out that there's something up. she'll pick up on it sooner or later.
“it's alright. there’s no need to feel pressure to tell me now, but do promise me one thing: you're not doing anything against the law, right?”
you couldn't help but burst out in laughter at her question. “chiori! do you take me as a criminal? of course, i’m not!” you replied, laughing in a fit of giggles in between your words. “thank goodness. well, how was i supposed to know? you almost never stop by so we rarely have the chance to catch up. every bit of news i hear from you is usually from the other ladies who sometimes talk about you.”
“don’t worry, my friend. i’ll stop by more often from now on, but seriously, are you still eavesdropping on your customers? i thought we were past that.”
“it isn't my fault some of them whisper way too loudly for my liking,” chiori scoffs.
as you two have a few more conversations, it is about time for you to take your leave, as the time has reached for the hour when chiori would usually have customers. “it was truly a pleasure to catch up with you, chiori.” you said as she escorted you to the door. “a pleasure indeed. do drop by more often, alright? it can get quite lonely here, you know.” a giggle leaves your lips at her response. “will do. i believe i might need a new dress soon for the upcoming firestone ball?” you say and you notice how chiori’s had some sort of sparkle at your mention of needing a new dress. she had always loved making dresses for you.
“is that so? i promise to suggest some designs that you might like once you return.”
— — — — — — — — 
the fountain of lucine was a famous spot for a walk in the park type of day. every day, you’d see different individuals make their wish upon the fountain. whether that is a prosperous marriage, being blessed with a beloved child, or even gaining wealth, everyone wishes for all sorts of desires towards the fountain. but you never found yourself doing the same. it’s most probably because you've already been content with your life up until now. you never had any struggles when it came to growing up.
but again, that is up until now. 
you took a step further towards the fountain, silently stating your wish and threw the coin into the fountain’s small pool of water. “penny for your wish?” you heard someone say beside you. quickly turning your head to the direction of the voice, you were surprised to see the duke there. “duke meropide! i—i didn’t expect that you were going to be here today.”
“i decided to go out for a stroll; the weather is quite nice today, is it not?” 
“ah, yes, i suppose it is,” you replied, looking around. the weather was indeed nice today. perfect for a quick stroll around the area. “would you mind taking a stroll with me today? it would be a shame to waste this fine weather talking in the same spot.” he says, offering his arm for you to take. “i’d be delighted to.” your arm gets hooked on his.
“how are you faring lately? it has been quite a while since our last meeting,” wriothesley starts. he personally prefers his attempt at small talk today to his attempt at small talk the night he met you. it has been a few days since the ball held by the house of hearth. and within those few days, you haven’t spoken to the duke since. though, your house suddenly has suitors calling for you during your calling hour. all hopeful to gain your interest in them instead of the duke.
(however, you all shut them down politely. you found yourself repeating your apologies to the lords that have called upon you during those times.)
“i’ve been well. certainly, the stunt that we pulled during the ball held in the house of hearth did not go unnoticed. my social energy has been drained because of the suitors who called me.” a sigh leaves your lips. “oh? i apologize for that then. i hope that your social energy isn't at it’s lowest right now,” he chuckles. you gave him a playful glare at his remark. “are you making fun of my previous predicament, duke?” 
“oh, heavens no. my apologies, did that offend you?” he says, holding back a smile at his words. he was definitely not apologetic. “you’re not that sorry for it, aren’t you?”
“perchance.”
“you cannot just say perchance!”
a laugh erupts from wriothesley at your response. it was the first time you heard him laugh like that. and in the public eye, you two would seem like a joyful couple spending some quality time walking around the fountain of lucine as a pastime. well, that was technically the goal. to show the public that you and the duke of meropide are madly in love with one another. what could possibly go wrong?
— — — — — — — — 
by the time the firestone ball had taken place (which is nearly just a week after the ball from the house of hearth), you and the duke were on the dance floor once again.
“i believe we have yet to discuss our other terms and agreement for our plan, your grace.” you said, following his lead in the waltz. “ah, you’re right. well then, why don’t you start? ladies first.” he says. “i was hoping that you’d have some ideas on what terms we should have; after all, this was your idea, if i may remind you.”
you continue speaking as wriothesley continues to lead you through the dance. “i am starting to be convinced that this will be more than just a simple game of pretend just so we could fool the members of society, or my mother, or the women you have wanted to get away from every time you step foot in public. a life is at stake here, your grace, my life, and i just simply cannot have this go wrong. so if you are not in agreement with that, then you should tell me now.” the duke never broke his eye contact with you as you spoke.
“i shall agree… on one condition.”
“your grace, i believe that you do not understa—”
“you must call me wriothesley.” 
there’s only one word to describe you at the moment: speechless. and wriothesley takes your silence as a chance to continue his words. “if we are truly to be courting, and if we are truly to prove that this is a match like no other, then you should call me by my name. after all, weren’t you the one who suggested that we should be more... casual with one another?”
he was right, and he had yet again another one hell of a good point. you mentally sighed, “very well then… wriothesley.” a laugh dares to escape your throat but this does not go unnoticed by the man who has his hand held in his at the moment. “is there something funny about my name?” he asks you, raising an eyebrow at your reaction. “no, no. it is a perfectly fine name. it is also quite unique, if i may add.” you replied, calming yourself down. laughing loudly while you’re in the middle of the dance floor would raise questions, after all.
“oh, perfectly fine? very well then… (name).” wriothesley’s voice seemed to have lowered itself an octave lower as he said your name with a slight rasp. your eyes looked away from his as you shifted your gaze to his collar instead. both of you went silent, yet you were still moving to the rhythm of the music.
wriothesley’s hand, that was supposedly at your waist, trailed upwards. just below the nape of your neck and also before your spine starts. your breath hitched at the contact of his cold finger tips there.
“i do hope that this plan will be successful.” you said, gaining your composure.
“have faith in us.”
— — — — — — — — 
meetings with the duke of meropide became more frequent than you expected. whether that may be a coincidental meeting or a planned one—no one could really pinpoint it, much to their dismay. 
it started off with a simple meal. then another walk. then an official invitation to accompany him to a ball or two. or three; in fact, he has invited you for a lot of them now. you haven’t thought much about the future as of late, always focusing on the present, where you’re definitely by wriothesley’s side. there was never a dull moment with the man. it was always entertaining to be with him. whenever another man (a man whose appeal is not to take interest in a sense) would approach you, wriothesley would pull some sort of stunt that’s connected to his “wild jealousy” of some sort. it’s a bit hard to hold back a laugh whenever this happens. there are times when he would talk to you about the other nobles present in the party and how he’s acquainted with them, and you’d admire the fact that he has many connections (something that a duke like him should have; he’s doing well in his duties, you’d note).
there are also times when you two will find yourselves alone, secluding yourselves from the crowd. these were, personally, your favorites. with the moonlight shining brightly upon you both once again, you’d always be reminded of the night you met. at these moments, this is when you and the duke would share… more personal things with one another. things that neither of you had expected to share with anyone else. like how he avoids marriage because of the huge responsibility that comes with it. or like how you doubt that others, especially men (minus the duke), would understand your struggles as a woman in this society.
wriothesley might have a lot of connections, but he was just the same as you. both of you kept your circle quite small (and by small, you both have only one person you truly trust to confide in). but even if you both wouldn’t admit it out loud, trust had also bloomed between the two of you.
(yet is trust the only thing that has actually bloomed?)
tonight, you found yourselves in yet another garden. “have you ever heard of why a flower wilts, wriothesley?” you decided to start this time. “hm? i suppose it’s because nothing good actually lasts long in life.” 
“how… pessimistic of you to say.” you sweatdropped at his response. he chuckles yet again, you noticed that he always chuckles apologetically while looking away before he actually says his apologies. a habit of his, perhaps. “my apologies; i must repeat myself. the less a person sees of me, the happier their life is.”
“why so? i enjoy your company quite well.”
“oh? and are you sure those words aren’t forced because you’re stuck with me with this little ruse we have ongoing?” he asks back. these exchanges became frequent. one would ask a question, and the other would ask another in return. “i’m being quite honest, wriothesley. i really do enjoy your company quite well.”
“the feeling is likewise, (name).” there’s something satisfying about how your name rolls off of his tongue. he pronounces it the same as everyone else does yet how does it feel different when he says it? it’s baffling, that’s one thing for sure. “is it awful that i’m actually quite enjoying this?”
“you mean my wild jealousy?” he asks, playfully offended.
“fooling society.” you corrected. “there are some in the crowd who secretly know everything about everyone. yet we have them utterly convinced that we are mad for one another.”
“we are awfully clever then.” he says in amusement. “indeed we are.” you chuckled at his reply.
if there’s one thing you would always notice between the two of you, it would always be how you were glued to one another. like there’s some magnetic pull that automatically drags the other to their side. 
this moment is no different because you could feel his knuckles grazing against yours ever so lightly. it starts with the hook of your pinkies, then slowly turns into you grabbing a hold of his other fingers. wriothesley could feel his heart beating fast at the contact. he glances at you, admiring your features underneath the moonlight once again. you glance at him as well. was he already this close to you when you started walking in this garden? because you swear your faces are inching even closer to each other. wriothesley’s other hand gently grabs your nape, guiding you as he gently pulls you in for a kiss. 
his lips were soft against yours, something you didn’t expect from him. he kisses you like you were delicate (to which you were, delicate to him, at least), eyes closing themselves as he enjoys the sensation of your lips against his. you kiss him back in the same way, not really knowing what to do next—but you kiss him back. that’s all that matters. his lips leave yours as wriothesley latches his lips onto your neck, continuing the light kisses against it.
you let out a gasp at the contact as you lean your head back so you can give him more access. he intertwined his other hand with yours; it was quite scandalous. having a moment like this on someone else’s property. you extracted him from your neck, pulling him in for another kiss. this time it was a bit more rough—desperate, even.
well, that was until he pulled away from you abruptly. you looked at him in a daze yet you were confused. “we must return; we’ve been out long enough,” he says, letting go of your hand in the process as he fixes himself. he tries to catch his breath, processing what has just happened. did he really just kiss you? he supposes (or, in other terms, hopes) that it’s normal. ultimately, this should’ve been part of your agreement in the first place, right?
“i… you’re right. my mother could be looking for me any moment now.” what could possibly go wrong, you ask? well, apparently, many things could go wrong.
but if there’s one thing that got stitched into your mind tonight, it’s only one thing:
the duke of meropide is one good kisser.
however, what will become of your relationship now?
— — — — — — — — 
you found yourself going to chiori again. the familiar sound of the bell chiming against the door notified chiori of someone entering her place. and once she saw you, she could just feel the distress radiating off of your body.
“what happened this time? i haven’t heard any good news about you two from last night’s party.” she says, pouring you a cup of tea. “good news? more like insane occurrences,” you sighed, watching the tea leave the teapot as it transfers onto your teacup. “ insane occurrences? what happened to ‘memorable event’?” she asked, confused with your choice of words.
you let out another sigh, finally revealing everything to chiori. luckily, today was her day off. with another ball just held last night, she would get at least a day or two of good rest before she opens up again. chiori takes in every detail of your story well, surprised that this is what you’ve been up to.
as soon as you were done talking, you decided to take a sip of your tea. “so you’re worried that you almost slept with the duke of meropide?” chiori states. and you choked on your drink once you heard her. “you didn’t have to word it like that! have some decency!” you exclaimed, embarrassment surging through you. 
“i don’t get it, though. what are you so worried about? it’s almost as if… wait.” she pauses.
“it’s almost as if what, chiori?”
“do you love him?”
“huh? love who?”
“don’t play dumb with me, (name). do you or do you not love the duke of meropide?”
this time, it was your turn to pause. do you? well, certainly, he is nice company. and he treats you well despite neither of you having the wish to marry each other. he is also a good kisser (something that you don’t really feel like counting but it’s still a fact). recalling everything that has happened now, the only things that come into mind are the things you’ve noticed about wriothesley. how his eyes are the most remarkable shade of grey, his scar below his right eye. the feeling of the callouses on his hands as you held them on the dance floor.
it can’t be. there’s just no way. he’s a duke of all people—he’s out of your league in so many ways. he’s too far for you to reach. and besides, this is all just a game of pretend, is it not? surely that kiss would’ve meant nothing to him. 
fuck.
“i do.” you replied to her in a whisper
“i’m glad that you’re not dense.” chiori says, flicking your forehead. you yelped in pain at the contact. 
yes, you do love the duke of meropide.
and you stand by that.
meanwhile, on the other side of the coin, wriothesley had a crisis himself. “you’re quite lucky today, to ask for my presence while queen furina is occupied with duke arlecchino with her. so what assistance can i offer for you today, wriothesley?” neuvillette states, pulling his chair so he could take a seat before the man in front of him. wriothesley leans back on his seat, an elbow propped on top of the chair’s arm rest as his index finger is rested upon his lips. 
wriothesley sighs. before spilling everything to neuvillette. his friend’s expression grew more amused as he continued on with the story, finding every detail unexpected for a man like his friend. “i see. so that’s how it is. well, let me ask you a simple question then, my friend.” 
“shoot.”
“do you love her?”
wriothesley pauses. neuvillette’s questions echo repeatedly in his mind. do i love her? he then asks himself. he was not stupid. wriothesley did not need to become some sort of genius to find the answer to that question—because the answer is no. he doesn’t love you. yes, he has grown to trust you with things he would never even dare tell anyone else. but he’s scared. wriothesley is scared because he has never thought of commitment in this way before. romance was just a frivolous belief to him, after all. so surely, this would all just mean nothing.
he ponders about it for a few more moments. he’s too scarred—too damaged—to be loved by someone like you. he feels undeserving of it. he knows there’s another man out there who could be the man you want to be. someone who will make you happier than he does. someone who is willing to commit himself to you. someone who could love you with nothing holding him back. 
“i don’t.” wriothesley firmly says.
no, wriothesley cannot be in love with you.
(neuvillette gives his friend a sigh as his friend takes his leave. he returns back to the room where queen furina is currently spending time with duke arlecchino. the duke had a habit of bringing the queen sweets from their travels abroad. the queen has excitement written all over her eyes as she makes eye contact with the pastries set in front of her.)
— — — — — — — — 
it wasn’t hard to put two and two together to realize that wriothesley has been avoiding you.
it has been a few months since you decided to start your ruse. although he still accompanies you, once it’s quite crowded, he will deliberately avoid your presence like a plague, and you have no idea why. you first thought that may be he was just feeling unwell but it has occurred more frequent now and it just stings, really. it stings because you thought that you two had formed quite the bond over the past few months.
“wriothesley, is something wrong? you know you could always talk to me, right?” you asked him, finally cornering him as he had successfully avoided you for the past two hours ever since the party started. “it’s nothing of your concern,” was all he said before leaving you again. but that answer wasn’t enough—hell, it wasn’t even a proper answer for you. so you decided to follow him.
“where are you going?” you asked him. speeding your pace up to catch up to him. wriothesley doesn’t answer and just continues on walking. he ends up going into a secluded room, not even bothering to close the door. you followed him in and shut the door behind you as you faced him. he had his back facing you as you heard him take a deep breath. “wriothesley, what’s wrong? and don’t even dare say that it’s none of my concern because it is.”
wriothesley could feel himself going mad. he can’t do this tonight. what even caused him to behave this way?
ah, he remembers. it was that unbearable sight of you interacting with marquess lyney. he should’ve been happy that you finally seem interested in someone else because all you two have to do now is plan how you should end things. but that thought made wriothesley realize two things. one, he cannot bear the sight of you with another man (but why? it’s not like you’re actually his in the first place). and two, he doesn’t want things to end between the both of you. whether it's a ruse that feels too real for his own liking or whatnot, he doesn’t want to lose you in his life.
he loosens the buttons on his top so that he can breathe more properly. you got closer to him, but only if you knew that was a dangerous move on your part. you grabbed his arm in hopes of getting a view of wriothesley’s expression at the moment.
he then faces you, his eyes searching for something in yours but you just can’t find out what. it was silent; neither of you dared to speak a word. and wriothesley finds himself pulling you for a kiss. it was a bit rough how his lips crashed against yours. he then pulls away, his eyes widening at what he just did. “i… my most sincere apologies.”
and he leaves. just like that.
the familiar door to the modiste is presented at you as you knocked. it was late at night. the party you attended earlier with wriothesley was long over. but you knew your dear friend would still be up even at this late hour. 
“(name)? what brings you here at this hour?” chiori asks, opening the door wider so you could enter.
“i need a goddamn drink.” you said.
— — — — — — — — 
“so you’re telling me that he just… kissed you again, and then he left the party? just like that?” chiori repeats. you take another shot of the alcohol chiori provided for the both of you. “hey, calm down. this one is actually pretty strong, you idiot.” chiori warns you.
you lean back, slamming the shot glass against the table. “just like that, chiori. like what is wrong with him? is he perhaps sick in the head?”
“i honestly don’t know if i should be at least grateful that he apologized.” she says, taking a shot as well. you glare at her remark and she raises her hands in return. you sighed this time, “are men always this… complicated?”
“hm, i don’t think so. maybe it’s just the duke.”
“you’re not helping!”
“you never said you wanted help in the first place.”
— — — — — — — — 
seven days.
seven days since you last spoke to wriothesley. seven days since you last heard of him. it has been seven days yet he hasn’t made any attempts to contact you since. 
just what was up with him? he was fine before. did you do something wrong? did you accidentally say something that was offensive to him? everything has changed now. wriothesley is treating you like he treated you before he actually met you—cold. 
your mother has decided to throw a ball this time—something about her not wanting to fall behind the other mothers. you complied, having to accept that society is nothing but competition against one another. and on the day of the ball, you found yourself lonely. if only chiori wasn’t busy with her other orders, then maybe this night would’ve been more entertaining.
wriothesley has yet to make his appearance (or perhaps he is already here yet he has decided to avoid you again). but you have decided on one thing tonight: you will talk things out with that stubborn man no matter what it takes. because you cannot just bear to stand idly by when wriothesley could be struggling alone. you once heard from your mother that love makes you do the craziest things and tonight was the night you realized that she was right. but isn’t it worth it if it’s all in the name of love?
the outdoor area of your home was also used for the ball, and decorations are displayed here and there to make the area look more eyecatching. to your family’s dismay, it has begun to rain. making all of the guests head inside to continue the festivities. but as you made your way to follow the crowd, you spotted someone too familiar—it was the man you’ve been looking for all evening, wriothesley.
looking around his surroundings, wriothesley spots you getting drenched in the rain. his eyes widen as he quickly makes his way towards you, removing his coat to drape it over you instead. “are you insane? you’re getting drenched!” he exclaims in worry. you scoff in return, pushing yourself away from his coat and allowing yourself to get wet by the rain.
“am i insane? i should be the one asking you that!” you said, glaring at him. “how… how could you? do you know how worried i have been because of you? you avoided me, then kissed me, then avoided me even more! i had no idea if you were okay because you didn’t even dare speak with me while i was here stuck waiting for you. why? because i didn’t want to pressure you into telling me what’s wrong!”
wriothesley is at a loss for words at your outburst. he just stares at you in return, guilt written all over him. he deserved your anger. but he didn’t mean for things to go this far, yet he also didn’t know how to handle things. you continued speaking, “wriothesley, i have no idea what’s clouding over your heart but i do know one thing: you musn’t keep it to yourself.”
“(name)...” he softly says—hesitantly, even. like he’s scared to even say your name in the first place. you take a step forward, both of your hands reaching out to hold his face. your touch was gentle on his skin, making sure you weren't making him uncomfortable. “tell me what’s wrong, wriothesley. i’ll listen.”
and tell you, he does. he voice shakes at first yet he begins to steady it as he unravels to you everything that has been bothering him up until now. his jealousy, his inner turmoil, and his insecurities. and you listen to him, understanding every word that escapes his lips as your hand never leaves his face, your fingers gently brushing over his scar below his right eye. and once he’s finished, you choose your next words carefully.
“there’s something that i realized in life that i believe you should know. just because something is not perfect does not make it any less worthy of love. you made yourself believe otherwise. you made yourself believe that you had to be without fault just so you could be loved but you’re wrong, wriothesley. should you need any proof of the matter, then look just here.” you weakly laugh at the last sentence, and wriothesley just stares at you. you couldn’t find out what’s going on in his head but you know that he’s listening.
your voice shakes as you continue. “i am tired of this sick game of pretending. i am tired of pretending—of acting as if i do not love you, because i do. i love you more than you could ever imagine. every scar, every flaw, every imperfection—i love all of you. you may think you’re too damaged or too scarred to allow yourself of happiness but you can choose differently, wriothesley. you can choose to love me as much as i love you. that should not be up to anyone else—that cannot be up to anyone else.”
“it can only be up to you.”
he was still silent as you slowly let go of his face but wriothesley was quick to catch them. he grabs ahold of your hands, and with his slight shaking, he takes a deep breath. he realizes something when you profess your love for him. he puts two things together: commitment and you. and the conclusion he draws from that is that he doesn’t mind commitment, as long as he’s committing himself to you. that’s how much of an impact you have on him. yes, he’s scared. and yes, this might not go like he hopes it will. but that doesn’t matter to him because he knows it will all be worth it for you. wriothesley is a coward when it comes to love and the like—that, he admits. but he isn’t allowing himself to be a coward for the rest of his life. why deprive himself of the serene type of happiness that he could only achieve when he has you by his side?
he kept his eyes on the hands he’s holding now as he began to speak. “i.. i do not wish to be alone. i know that now. but what i do not know is how to be the man you wish for me to be—the man you truly deserve. i do not know how to do any of this, but i do know another thing: i love you too. i love you. most ardently.” he then meets your eyes as he notices one thing in them. love.
“you stay. you stay and we’ll get through this. together. that’s where we’ll start. we have all the time in the world.”
“may i… kiss you?” he hesitates to ask. but you give him a nod of approval before you’re met with the familiar pleasure of his lips on yours. he relishes every second of the kiss, taking this as a chance to ground himself into reality—refusing to believe that this is some sick dream that his mind decided to play in his head. a hand slithers its way to the nape of his neck and wriothesley groans at the feeling as his hand grabs your waist tighter. wriothesley thanked his lucky stars for the night he met you because this wouldn’t be possible if it weren’t for them.
love at first sight was a frivolous belief for a man like wriothesley. 
but he knew otherwise the moment he laid his eyes upon you that night in the garden.
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ijustwanttobegolden · 27 days ago
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Hunger for love... and ex boyfriends.
In which venom eats your ex boyfriend and takes you to a rave. (Headcanons) (Warning: suggestive sexual themes)
🖤 You were the cute, sexy hot girl next door.
🖤 (quoted by venom) but Eddie definitely agreed.
🖤 your apartment from across the hall got boring and lonely from time to time and so you had no choice but to investigate the strange shenanigans that sounded from Eddies apartment during the late nights.
🖤 eventually you uncovered the truth. That eddie didn't live alone and to your surprise not just your average roommate.
🖤 you were in awe instantly from the moment you saw venom. Eddie never felt so relieved.
🖤 From that point onwards they became your bestest friends.
🖤 You became their angel.
🖤 always protecting you, always keeping you company, keeping you happy and keeping you safe.
🖤 all the while you supported them, gave them the love and support and nurture they both needed.
🖤 then they saw you in a different light.
🖤 it wasn't friendship they wanted now but love, all of it.
🖤 But the chances of that faded to nill when your douchebag boyfriend came along.
🖤 God knows where you found him, they thought. The trash maybe? Since the man boy himself was absolute trash. He was filth and infact treated you like it.
🖤 The rough nights of arguing, him going out and leaving you alone. All the times you cried or threw something in anger.
🖤 those nights were the hardest for Eddie and venom to control themselves. So many times they had to fight the urge to go over to your apartment and rip the guys head off.
🖤 Eddie was definitely the strongest out of them both. Trying to tame venom had him a sweaty mess, fighting all around the apartment.
🖤 "Eddie!" *Crash* "listening to them! She needs us!"
🖤 they hadn't heard from you for a whole week after that but that didn't stop them from keeping tabs on you.
🖤 they stalked your routine. 7am you would leave for work and by 7pm you were back home, dressed in something comfy and already heading down the street to get your daily dose of wine and chocolate from the 7:11.
🖤 they couldn't help but stalk. They missed you and they wanted to make sure you were okay and as much as it killed them, they knew it was best to give you space.
🖤 "how is she doing?" Eddie sighs as he looks up at Ms Chen with tired sad eyes. He was careful not to get caught by you as you left the store.
🖤 "a bit better today, she said she's in need of a good night out but her friends are out of town"
🖤 "Eddie!"
🖤 "No."
🖤 venom was not impressed. Surely Eddie would do anything at this point to cheer you up, even if it meant going out partying.
🖤 "i'm planning to bring her some flowers tomorrow, chill alright?"
🖤 okay so the flowers didn't work. You were absolutely heartbroken.
🖤 As much as it was for the best, no breakup is ever easy and flowers from a friend across the hall was not going to make things better right now. You were S A D.
🖤 You were moping about your apartment on your favourite night of the year. Halloween night.
🖤 No friends. No dressing up and no going out. Awful.
🖤 you wanted the heartbreak to stop. You wanted to be happy. You wanted Eddie and Venom. You felt like you had pushed them away.
🖤 until...
🖤 A knock at the door. And it was venom.
🖤 You look down the hall confused and then you realized. Halloween night. Venom would be disguised.
🖤 "No Eddie?"
🖤 "just us baby, we are going to a rave!"
🖤 Your heart jolted while excitement flushed through your veins. Partying with Venom was something you never thought you needed until now.
🖤 You chose the sexiest, revengeful dress.
🖤 A tight black latex dress that paired well with Venoms shiny form.
🖤 Venoms white, sharp smile was practically drooling. His white eyes gleaming at the sight of you.
🖤 you looked insane.
🖤 both matching, you strutted to the club like you owned the town.
🖤 the majority of the way venom carried you, throwing you around because he knew how much you liked the thrill.
🖤 feeling you squirm and hearing you giggle gave him a rush of joy, happy to have his angel back.
🖤 your smile faded when you came to a sudden halt, normally this meant Venom could sense something bad.
🖤 and it was.
🖤 in fact it was badder then bad.
🖤 it was your ex boyfriend.
🖤 Venoms veins and tentacles pulsed with anger when he witnessed him. Sneaking around in a nearby alley with a girl.
🖤 bad timing for the ex, let's just say.
🖤 There was no trying to calm Venom, beg or distract him from what you knew he was going to do.
🖤 might as well just enjoy it.
🖤 As if venom could read you for a moment he held back as you strutted towards your traitor of an ex.
🖤 As you got closer you came to recognize he was with the girl he denied cheating on you with.
🖤 venom sensed this and he was raging.
🖤 all the more satisfying.
🖤 your ex couldn't believe what he was seeing. You, out of nowhere, strutting over in stiletto heels and the sexiest outfit. The Douche bag was already regretting his choices.
🖤 "wow, um.."
🖤 He was nervous. So he should be.
🖤 of course you gave a little speech of hatred all the while expressing how much he broke you.
🖤 This was only fueling the fire for Venom. Nobody hurts him and Eddie's girl and gets away with it.
🖤 You never thought it would make you feel better seeing Venom eat your ex but it did.
🖤 Best alien ever.
🖤 He licked the blood from your cheek that splattered onto your face in the process.
🖤 In a way that was also his kiss to you. A kiss to make it all better and that you were safe and with him now.
🖤 Okay so the rave afterwards. INSANE.
🖤 like the best night ever.
🖤 Everyone looked amazing in their costumes but it was you and Venom who stood out the most.
🖤 The lights reflected off the black shininess of you both.
🖤 You both glistened and moved together like silk as you swayed and grinded together.
🖤 you don't believe me when I say everyone was OBSESSED.
🖤 the sexiest couple.
🖤 it got hot at the rave. The heat was rising.
🖤 There was so much tension.
🖤 venom was completely moulded to you
🖤 his mind racing with the wildest, nastiest thoughts of you.
🖤 Eddie was really missing out.
🖤 Eventually you got tired.
🖤 Both craving chocolate and the warmth and comfort of Eddie.
🖤 Venom effortless races home with you, tentacles wrapped around you tightly and protectively.
🖤 your heart races. It always does when being carried away by Venom.
🖤 Eddie did manage to get a glimpse of you in that sexy black latex dress.
🖤 WOW. No words. Only stutters.
🖤 and if you weren't fresh from a heartbreak he would of taken you right there and then.
🖤 Venom licks his lips at the racing thoughts he could read of Eddies.
🖤 You decided you wanted to stay over for the night.
🖤 Though Eddie and Venom didn''t give you much of a choice.
🖤 Before you knew it you were already draped in one of eddies comfy oversized vacation T-shirts.
🖤 and cuddled up on the sofa in Eddie's warm strong and reassuring arms.
🖤 you snuggled into his chest, breathing in his sent. Home.
🖤 Eddie plants a sweet lingering kiss to your head, Happy to finally have you in his arms. Where you belong.
🖤 venom was now at bay inside of Eddie, resting from the eventful night of eating ex boyfriends and partying.
🖤 but that didn't stop him from slithering out some tentacles from eddies rib cage to wrap tightly around you also.
🖤 you might be their angel but they were also yours.
🖤 Eventually you staying over become a regular thing.
🖤 And the next time you wore something sexy Eddie and Venom wasted no time in devouring you.
🖤 eventually they had your love. All of it.
🖤 and you did theirs.
🖤 real love.
🖤 man you were all hungry! 🤍
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all-purpose-dish-soap · 8 days ago
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63 / 2.6k / soap soulmate au, part 12
...
Trapped at the base of the mountain, you spy your window of opportunity to bolt to the treeline. And you take it.
The adrenaline pumping through your body blunts the pain of the crash. You've scarcely made it into the shadow of the enormous fir trees when a bullet shears past your head and splinters a tree branch six inches away from your ear. Shit. Someone saw you.
You sprint as deep as your lungs can carry you. Then you press back into the nearest trunk. Behind you, two pairs of boots stomp through the snow.
"Saw someone come this way," one voice says. It's not KorTac. "Got a runner."
"There," the other voice says. The sound of a rifle sliding past cloth. Their steps get louder and close in on your position. The voices are low, but the snow carries them to you, crisp and clear.
"Can't let this one get away," one of the men says.
"Oh, we won't."
You tear deeper into the trees, weaving between trunks and jumping over fallen branches. Bullets spray out from behind you. One punches through your side. You stumble, fingers brushing the snow, but don't go down. Johnny's voice echoes in your skull. You'd better live.
The two men on your tail follow. They're relentless. It's clear they have no reservations about cutting down a fleeing, unarmed target. You push onwards, your breathing ragged as you run, ignoring the way your every movement sends a wave of pain down your body. You take cover again, this time behind an enormous fallen log. But you know they know where you are.  Behind you, they spread out to circle up and flank you. You grip the shard of glass still in your hand. It's all you have, and it won't be enough.
"Don't try anything," he says. "We've got you now."
Red mist explodes out of his chest. He stumbles and pitches forward to the ground. You don't have time to see where the shot came from. You lurch toward his body, pull the shard of glass across his throat, tear his rifle off him, and return to cover. You look down the scope and search for the other mercenary. You see him taking aim at the one who shot his teammate--Horangi.
Before he can pull the trigger, another single shot rings out from Horang’s rifle. Blood splatters from the man's head, and he goes down.
Behind Horangi, you see two more of them take cover and aim their rifles at the two of you. You press yourself against the fallen trunk, aim, and squeeze the trigger. It takes you more than one squeeze in the haze of adrenaline puppeteering your exhausted body, but you strike one in between the eyes. The other stumbles out of cover to run, and Horangi puts a bullet in his back.
Then the forest goes quiet. Horangi glances back at you over the top of the log. "You alright?" he says.
"Alive." You straighten up, but you don't drop the gun. "Is it clear?"
Horangi glances around "For now," he says. "Let's make ourselves scarce before that changes."
You grip the rifle harder and stare at the roll of zip ties on Horangi's belt. He's your former teammate. He took you prisoner. You let him. Maybe taking what you thought was your only way out is why you see now how things could be different.
Horangi's eyes sharpen. "Careful, rookie," he says, his voice low. "Don't do anything stupid. We're on the same side."
"You're gonna cuff me again."
"That's the idea." Bullets, blood, and shards of wood and needles litter the snow he walks through. "Don't make this hard. I don't want to have to hurt you."
"No. I'm not going back." You widen your stance, pointing the rifle at him.
His eyes narrow. "Careful with that."
You keep your aim steady on him and say nothing.
He watches you, evaluating your grip, the tension in your arms, the cold look on your face. Then he nods toward the bleeding wound on your side. "How long do you think you'll last out here with that?"
"That's not your concern."
"Yeah," he says. "It is."
He regrips his rifle in both hands, shifting his weight. This time, however, he keeps his distance.
"Drop the gun," he says. "Then we'll discuss this without the risk of friendly fire."
You don't back down.
He lets out a short sigh and glances up at the trees. "You really can't just make things easy, huh. You really gonna shoot me?" he says. "After I just saved your life?"
"Yeah."
"You're bluffing."
"I might be," you tell him. "If you wanna take that chance."
He assesses you. A long beat of silence passes.
"That's not like you," he says finally, voice flat. "Your code is quid pro quo. I saved your life. You owe me."
He walks toward you. He's calling your bluff.
You squeeze the trigger. Once, twice. One bullet lodges in his chest plate. The other finds its mark in the joint of his armor--the weak point where chest plate meets shoulder plate. Red sprays out into the gray haze of snow and pines.
He jerks as he takes the shots, curses, and staggers. You're full of nasty surprises today. But his training is the same as yours--when an asset gets mean, KorTac gets worse. He doubles down, pushing himself into a sprint.
You squeeze the trigger again, bullet punching through his armor's elbow joint. Another three pulls produce nothing but empty dry clicks. Shit. He barrels toward you.
You throw the gun aside and reach for the shard of glass, your makeshift knife, but it’s too late. He grabs you, close enough to tear the glass out of your hand, sweep your knees, shove your face into the snow, and force the air out of your lungs with his weight on your back.
Still, you struggle for your freedom, clawing the snow for any kind of grip. Ghost's knee on your back comes dimly to mind.
Before you can get free, Horangi digs his knee into the bullet wound at your side. You bite down on a scream, gritting your teeth against the pain exploding across your body.
"Enough," he says in a low voice. "You're done."
You can barely focus through the pain. Your vision blurs and your muscles tense and twitch blindly against his hold. He lets up the pressure only once the initial wave of pain subsides and you've let out a shuddering gasp.
You lay still in pain for a long moment. When he grabs your hands to cuff you, you strike.
He’s not expecting the elbow to his nose. Then you drive your fist into his kidney--between the panels of his armor--and twist hard.
He grabs you anyway. But you yank your forearm--slicked with blood from your side wound--free from his grip and take off. Blood dots the snow behind you like a trail of scarlet breadcrumbs from the crash site.
You’re on your feet and running through the trees. You’re coasting on adrenaline alone. He’s right at your heels. He catches up.
You both go down hard again, falling through open air for a moment before you hit hard, wet snow-crust. As you struggle, he wraps the cord of a zip tie around one of your wrists and grabs your other. But you slide it free again and dig your red fingers into the snow.
"Just let me go!" you wheeze back at Horangi. "Just say I died in the ambush."
"Hell no. Nothing personal, rookie, but you made your choice. We’re turning you in dead or alive."
The radio on his hip spits and crackles. Warped voices come through. Then real ones in the distance. Shouting. A rough, Scottish brogue. The cold air burns your lungs as you suck it in.
Horangi reaches forward for your other wrist again. You turn and sink your teeth into his gloved hand. He yells. Soap’s voice is nearby. Your vision blurs. The adrenaline is wearing off. You can’t get free to run.
A shout of your name. Close.
"Johnny," you say, your voice a breathless gasp. "Johnny, I'm–"
But Horangi grabs you before you can say anything else. His gloved hand clamps down over your mouth.
"Don't move," Horangi says into your ear. "You move, I put a bullet in his head."
He has to be lying. But you don’t move. You can’t make yourself do it if it means even the slightest chance of putting Soap’s life at risk.
He pulls you up to your knees. You find yourself staring at the rocky side of an eight-foot ledge. No wonder you and Horangi fell so hard. You must’ve tumbled down this drop. If not for the snow cushioning your fall, it would’ve taken you out of commission.
You see Soap coming toward you. Your chest aches with relief before something dawns on you. On your knees, even through your pants, you realize you're not kneeling on just snow. It's ice, not loam, under the layers of powder. Pure ice. The surface of a frozen river.
"Stop!" you shout, seeing Soap rapidly approaching the high bank. "Don't come any closer." The deep, echoing snaps of cracking ice echo around you as if to punctuate your point.
Soap slides to a stop at the edge. His eyes go from the gun at your head straight down to the snow-covered ice. Comprehension dawns on his face. If he drops down to the already-damaged surface below, it will break and plunge all of you into the black water underneath.
His eyes flash to Horangi. “Let her go.”
“Back off,” Horangi says from behind you. “Right now, or I shoot her right here.”
That makes no sense. He’s bluffing, you know it. But you also know Soap won’t risk your life. His expression hardens.
The ice groans again. Your life is on a timer. You can’t outrun or overpower Horangi. You need to find another way.
“Your buyer,” you say lowly to Horangi. “I want to talk to your buyer.”
Horangi's grip on your neck doesn’t loosen. His silence is all the answer you need.
"Call him up. I want to talk to him."
"You're not in any position to negotiate.”
Tension rolls off Soap like a physical force. He’s coiled like a viper. His team approaches around him, all of them trying to analyze the situation. If he weren’t outnumbered, you suspect Soap would rush forward anyway, damn the risks. He looks ready to tear Horangi limb from limb. If he had a clean shot, he’d take it. But he’s not fool enough to give Horangi a reason to hurt you, either. It’s a stalemate.
"You let me talk to him or I'll make sure this ice breaks before either of us make it to shore,” you hiss.
Horangi considers it. You can't give him the time to think his way out of this. You lean your weight onto one knee--putting more pressure onto a smaller surface area of the ice. It cracks again.
“Dammit, don’t!” Soap snaps, taking a step forward. Ghost’s hand on his shoulder stops him.
Another moment of silence. Tense. The cold wind whistles past your ears. You hear the deep groans and snaps as the ice warps.
Then Horangi scoffs. "Still trying to out-bluff me?"
He yanks you back, sliding you toward the shore, trying to keep you from putting weight on the ice. You throw yourself in the opposite direction, slamming yourself back against the cold surface. The crack of pain against your spine reverberates through your entire body.
You try to get to your feet. The crackling sound, like snapping cables, is everywhere. Horangi is cool under pressure, but he holds his shoulders more rigidly than you’ve ever seen him. He walks toward you with the zip tie still in hand.
You struggle to your feet and go at him. You drive your weight into his body and fight like hell to keep you both on the river, where you have leverage. He fights to throw you onto shore. You’re so close to getting away. You just need an opening.
Soap shouts. You don’t hear what he’s saying. Despite your injury, You use every bit of your weight and speed as if to force both of you thought the ice. You keep moving, slipping out of his reach every time he tries to grab hold of you. Every time, the ice and it shifts with a snap, threatening to break and send you both tumbling into the dark water below. In the tangle, you get close enough to grab blindly at his belt and pack. You aim to grab his handgun. Your hand closes around something else--a frag. Almost as good.
You jerk back and hold it up so he can see it. Your breath is shaky now, coming out in uneven puffs. It feels like all the body heat you have left is bleeding out of the wound in your side. But it works as intended. Everyone quiets. Even the ice stops crackling. Horangi’s eyes narrow.
So you pull the pin. You keep your finger on the switch, but you and everyone else know the explosion would blow you, Horangi, and anyone else on the ice to hell.
"Call the buyer," you say quietly. "Or you won't even have a corpse to trade."
He looks at you with a cold, even glare. You know what he's thinking: you might be bluffing, you might not. And after the way you’ve been acting, he isn't willing to bet his life on it.
The cold wind whistles between you and raises goosebumps on your numb skin.
Finally, he pulls out his phone and dials a number. He says something into it quietly. Then he looks at you, steps forward, and hands it to you.
You take it. You don't have to tell him to back off--the live grenade in your hand is enough warning for him. He walks backward off the frozen river and back onto shore to give you all the space you’d need to blow yourself up.
As soon the pressure of his weight is off the ice, the creaking ice shifts and settles again. You feel lightheaded with the loss of blood. You sway but manage to keep your balance.
"Hen, please," Soap calls. "Go with him. Just stay off the ice." Never thought he'd be saying this, but he'd rather you be in someone else's custody than dead. He wants you to come to him so badly, but he's much further up the riverbank. There's no way for him to jump down to you without cracking the ice; there's no way for you to get up to him one-handed. You won't be able to climb the icy rock and earth separating you. The only way is downriver, and while Soap's eyes sweep every part of the river in sight, he can't seem to find a solution. When you don't react, he looks to Horangi instead. "Take her off the damn ice!" he shouts.
Horangi crosses his arms and says nothing. The message is clear: he did what he could; you're the one forcing his hand.
You hold the phone up to your ear. To your chilled skin, it's warm to the touch. You hold it with both hands, leaning it against the frag and cupping the other hand around the receiver to catch your voice amidst the wind. You swallow, trying to wet your mouth enough to rasp out a few words. But it's the man on the other end of the line, your buyer, who speaks first.
"Hey, 86." Graves. You can hear him smiling around your old Shadow Company call number. "Heard you're in a bit of a predicament."
...
← previous part / [part 12] / next part →
part 1 / more Soap / masterlist
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hballegro · 6 days ago
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If pretending I've been quantum leaped is how I get my important but anxiety-inducing things done then that's just how it has to be
wheres that post 'if imagining goku is hyping you up gets you to do the thing then thats what you gotta do. if you gotta be a little mentally ill to get mentally well then so be it'
yeah that right now
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radioactive-mouse · 9 months ago
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i keep thinking about like. how the brutality levels vary between seasons and how secret life is the natural culmination of everything these people have been through and the watchers pushing everything to extremes. i’m going to try to articulate how crazy this makes me
3rd Life: god. 3rd life was a clear cut war. we haven’t seen a season since where nearly everyone has such an intense devotion to their chosen faction. the fact that there’s no precedent that they’re coming back next season, the fact that as far as they know, dying means staying dead, makes just how much they’re willing to go down with the ship that much more heartbreaking. grian ended the season exactly how it was played by damn near everyone else— i love you, i would do anything for you, i would rather die than keep going without you. the season of widows.
Last Life: and then they come back. and then ending things isn’t an option. and all of a sudden it’s not a war, it’s a death match, and damn is the competition is vicious. deaths are more often than not a vague, impersonal thing— not get away from my king, my husband, my charge— just the flash of a knife and a quick sorry, just playing the game! if 3rd life told you to hold the ones you love close, defend them to your last breath, last life urges you to burn that love out of your chest entirely.
Double Life: but everything slows down eventually. no more dying for the one you love— just learning to live with them. double life is about knowing that when you die, you will go together, hand and hand into the dark. a soap opera, the players joke. a small kindness, the universe replies. again, pearl wins the same way everyone else lost— no, not yet, please, just give us a little longer together, i’m not ready, i’m so sorry—
Limited Life: but the clock, unyielding, ticks ever onward. and god, everyone is starting to feel it. that sick, nauseating feeling of dread creeping up on them: what if it never ends? what if this is it, this is all that’s left for us— tearing each other apart over and over and over again, and for what? for a show? to feed those hungry things lurking in the dark? we’ll give them a show. bombs rain from the sky, the world shaking under the weight of it. there isn’t a thing left by the end that’s not rubble. we’re all doomed! the players cry, laughing with nothing but nihilistic, unrestrained joy. none of it matters! we come back again, and again, and again, have a little fun with it! light the fuse, collateral be damned. when death means so little, what’s the point in pretending they don’t take a little joy in it? we settle this like grian and scar before us, scott jokes, armor and weapons tossed to the side. are you insane? martyn thinks, remembering the hollow look that would wash over grian’s face when he thought no one was watching. it ruined him. it will not ruin me. this is a death match for a reason.
Secret Life: and here it is. the natural conclusion. this season is candy colored, the map dotted with cute pink houses and silly builds, the players all running around doing these ridiculous tasks. it’s so easy to forget how bloody this season was. unclosing wounds, bruises that don’t fade, the sting of fire or falling from a simple misstep. the hurt never goes away, but it gets easier to ignore— distract yourself with something silly to pass the time: spyglasses and frogs and the ugliest house you’ve ever seen and matching leather jackets and the doghouse and the relationSHIP and a weird tunnel full of doors and secret soulmates and god it’s almost, almost, enough to forget how much it all aches, how much the grief weighs on you, how many times someone you love has died, sometimes to your own blade. almost none of the grudges you hold are real by now, not really. not when you’re going to live and die with these people for as long as the hungry, many-eyed things delight in your suffering. you love each other, in the strangest way— sure you’ve all killed and betrayed each other in a thousand different ways, but at the end of the day, they’re all you have. clinging to each other in the face of the vast, unknowable horrors that drive you to slash each other to pieces. it’s still a game, after all. they’ve gotta figure out how to be good sports about it eventually.
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dwaekkicidal · 4 months ago
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thoughts on owner channie w puppy seungmin & kitty reader w owner lino  >ᴗ<?
the way i started pacing my room after reading this and waiting for my computer to turn on so i could write something LMFAO-
also u must be in my walls or something because ive been going batshit crazy over hybrids lately but i havent told anybody? get out of my head???
do NAWT ask me how this has 1.4k words... i will not explain myself.
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nsfw below the cut» x reader mainly but mxm at the very end
anywhoooo.... onwards!
so lets just say that we have owner!channie who doesn't know what to do when his puppy!seungmin becomes a brat all of a sudden. he's growling at every male hybrid he looks at, not listening when channie tells him to do something, and even humping + cumming on a pillow or two (definitely more than that but channie doesn't have to know that)
and then he's meeting up with his best friend, kitty-owner!lino, who mocks his best friend for not being able to prove himself as the "head dog of the house"
he keeps up this teasing up until channie describes a few more behaviors that rings alarms in lino's head and he realizes that his friend's stupid mutt is just going into heat!! and lil ol' channie didn't think that far ahead so he's absolutely not prepared to deal with his puppy's first heat alone
but then lino reminds him that he has a pretty, well-behaved kitty sitting at home with no mate and her own heat on its way soon~ so they agree to have them meet and plan everything out
the first time you meet, seungmin is absolutely losing his shit >< he can smell you before he sees you and you just so smell so. sweet. his heat makes the smell a million times worse and he just wants to eat you alive. more figuratively than literally but he doesn't think he would mind taking a chomp or two-
and channie is absolutely mind-boggled that the stupid brat he's been dealing with all week is suddenly being good, all thanks to the mere presence of another hybrid.
little does he know it's only thanks to how hard seungmin is biting his cheek so that he doesn't bend you over right here, right now in the middle of this park where everybody would see
after that they move fast, thanks to seungmin's heat starting early, and lino prepares you as much as he can before helping you settle into channie's guest room
channie even put a mini fridge in there- filled it to the brim with both of your favorite drinks+water, put a huge stack of blankets and spare clothes on top of the dresser, and filled a few dresser drawers to the brim with snacks
channie took the week off of work while lino opted to "work from home" and they stayed close by, camping out in the living room together and "reluctantly" listening closely so they could hear any possible calls for help from either of you
but no matter how much preparation they made, they were not in the slightest prepared for how almost feral seungmin became
the first few hours were the most unbearable, it was hard for you to get used to this stupid, insatiable mutt and his unnecessarily big knot. but you did get used to it eventually!
it only took multiple rounds and your poor cunt getting overfilled with his cum, much to his dismay. it only made him angry and pushed him to fuck into you even harder as he whined and complained about how you "need to take it better" so he could fuck a litter or two into you.
& both men could hear the growling as well as the plap plap plap of seungmin's balls hitting your poor, abused cunt >< your moans and cries bleeding through the walls to the point where channie thought for a second he would get the cops called on him for a noise complaint
but he stopped worrying about that when the few seconds of silence were disrupted by even more sobs and begs for seungmin to give you his pups!
though, minnie took such good care of you after each round!! he made sure you drank enough water and was good on snacks until lino came in with the bigger meals for both of you. but, that was all thrown out the window when he found himself rock hard, yet again.
he just couldn't hold himself back from folding you into every position he could think of that would keep you below him, at his mercy, and keep your pretty, puffy pussy ready for him at all times
channie felt like it was constant. like the two of you had spent every minute of those days drooling over each other and fucking each other's brains out.
which to some degree was true... neither of you could deny that, but you both still got... occasional breaks! they may or may not have been short-lived before seungmin was ready to go again, but nobody needs to know that!
all that your owners needed to know was that, by the time seungmin's heat was over, you were well bred and he felt like himself again!
but- oh! would you look at that? your owners came in to help you guys clean up after the fact, but it appears that seungmin managed to trigger your heat... but not to worry! he is very keen on repaying you for your help and is already shoving his cock into you before lino can even get out the door~
so,, maybe you guys weren't exactly done yet.
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bonus;
puppy!seungmin realizing he had a lot of fun misbehaving during his heat so, now that you and him are well acquainted and hang out multiple times throughout the week, he goes out of his way to make his owner's life miserable~
fucks you into every surface he can think of: the dining table, the kitchen counters, the bathroom sink, the bathtub/shower, the coffee table, the couch, against the windows, in the middle of the hallway, channie's desk...
channie's bed
& seungmin always makes sure you make the biggest mess possible so that he can see the veins on channie's neck pops out when he blames it on his "instincts"
it pushes ALL of channie's buttons. not only does he have to clean up the insane amounts of cum all around his place, but he also has to smell sex literally everywhere all while he "can't" get his dick wet :((
so i bring you: owner!lino who lets owner!channie fuck you, his eager kitty, into the mattress all the while puppy!seungmin is all but tied to a chair.
lino watches over him and makes sure that he doesn't touch himself, cum, or even look away from the bed, for that matter
double bonus; mxm continuation of ^
lino's got his big, veiny hands jerking minnie off only to pull away and leave him leaking when he almost cums for the nth time :((
& channie's never subjected him to anything like this before so he caves a lot sooner than any of them thought; tears prickling his pretty boba eyes and his cock an angry red as it twitches with each apology that comes out of his lips
but.. oh! their pretty kitty is too tired to go another round? 'oh im sorry minnie.' poor pup. 'what will we do with you now?'
it doesn't take long for channie to fold. he loves his puppy and he would do anything to make those stupid tears go away- even if that means splitting him in half on his cock <3
he'd always thought about fucking his pretty mutt, but never thought it was on the table until those big, begging puppy dog eyes stared up at him all watery and his puppy was sitting there begging him to help him :(
he can't help himself when he lays down and lets seungmin have his way with his cock! but then all of a sudden lino joins in- letting his kitty take a nap and rest while he slides a hand around seungmin's waist and the other in his hair
he controls his hip movements like this and snaps at channie when he tries to tell minho to 'just let him do what he wants.'
no. no. no. absolutely not. 'stupid pup needs to learn his lesson.'
lino makes them change positions so that they can eiffel tower him; lino fucking his throat raw while channie's dicking him down hard enough to make the boy feel him in his tummy <3
& he's making the biggest mess all over the sheets!! a mixture of drool and precum soaking dark spots into channie's previously clean sheets, the realization making something in channie snap hehe
yea. im sick in the head over this. thank u anon i love you so much
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dixons-sunshine · 7 months ago
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The Archer’s Girl | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader
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Summary: When the world ended, you and Daryl narrowly escaped the clutches of the dead and found yourselves in a quarry camp with Merle and some other people. Unwanted, someone in the camp took a weird liking and disliking to you, and it made you extremely uncomfortable. Luckily, Daryl was there to stand up for you.
Genre: Fluff, some angst.
Era: Outbreak day; The Quarry.
Part of the Shopping Spree, Hangout Dreams AU but can be read as a standalone.
Warnings: Swearing, mentions of morning sickness.
Word count: 4.4k.
A/N: Damn, I love when two requests correspond with each other and I can get them both into one fic. It’s my favourite thing in the whole world. I feel like Daryl is kinda ooc in this, but I tried to imagine how he’d be with a woman he just met at the quarry and started forming a relationship with vs how he’d be with someone he’s been with since he was a teenager, and in my mind, he’d totally be softer regarding someone he already knows and loves vs one he’s just started getting to know. So soft!Daryl in this, it is! Anyways, I hope you like this!
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Barely one minute prior, you had strayed from Daryl’s side to go grab some milk. You had told him that you would be right back, but with all the chaos that had suddenly unfolded in front of you, you highly regretted leaving him at all. With everything going to hell, you could be separated from the man you loved. That thought terrified you.
“Daryl!” you called out, attempting to push past the stampede of people trying to hurriedly evacuate the store you were in. You were abruptly shoved into one of the shelves, a sharp pain shooting up into your ribs. A loud curse escaped your lips as you clutched your side.
However, as you turned around, nothing terrified you more than the sight that beheld you.
On the floor, a woman was screaming in pure, unadulterated agony. On top of her was a man whose body appeared to be decaying, and he ripped a huge chunk of her flesh from her chest. His grimy hands were clawing at her stomach, and with little to no effort, he tore her stomach open. The sight was truly mortifying, and it would never be erased from your mind.
A hand grabbed your wrist from behind. You flinched and tried to rip your hand from the person’s grip, but the familiar voice of your husband calmed you down. However, when you looked at him, you were surprised to note the splatter of dark blood all over his clothes and face.
“S’me! S’jus’ me!” he hurriedly explained. He cast one glance to the horrific sight in front of you before dragging you along with him, the two of you moving quickly. He stopped momentarily in front of one of the shelves to grab two knives, carefully pushing one of them into your hold. “Ya see one’a these dead motherfuckers, ya stab ‘em in the head, alright? S’the only way they drop dead.”
“What? I don’t—”
“Dun’ think ‘bout it, Peach!” he cut you off, pulling you with him out of the store again. “They ain’t alive. The news weren’t lyin’ to us ‘bout the dead risin’. We got a real fuckin’ problem on our hands now.”
Choosing to trust his judgement, you nodded and hurried next to him. The two of you ran down the sidewalk, heading in the direction of your apartment. As you continued onward, you highly regretted deciding to walk to the store instead of taking Daryl’s truck. It would have been a whole lot easier to escape the mess surrounding you if you had a vehicle.
Just as the two of you arrived at your apartment building, about a dozen of the undead people were stumbling out of the door. Daryl quickly pulled you with him to the parking area instead, making a beeline for his truck. However, more of those things flooded the area and a couple of them were heading straight towards you, and it was clear that the two of you weren’t escaping without a fight.
“Ya got yer knife?” Daryl questioned, shooting a glance at you over his shoulder.
“Yeah,” you told him, gripping the knife so tightly your knuckles started turning white.
“Good,” he replied, stepping forward to plunge his knife into the skull of one of the monsters. He withdrew the knife, holding it ready to use at a moment’s notice. “Ya gotta stab ‘em in the head as hard as ya can, alright? Dun’ think ‘bout ‘em bein’ alive. These assholes ain‘t livin’ no more.”
“Don’t worry about me trying to talk them out of eating me or something,” you scoffed, replicating the way he was holding his knife with your own. “I’m not that stupid. All these fuckers are getting from me is a fatal blow to the head. They’re not touching me.”
“That’s my girl,” he praised you with a small smile. However, his attention soon got diverted back towards the flood of the undead stumbling around in the parking area.
As the two of you continued onwards, Daryl repeatedly stabbed the heads of the monsters. By some miracle, the two of you made it to his truck without you having to do anything. However, just as Daryl was getting into the driver’s seat and you were opening the door to the passenger seat, a slimy, blood-covered hand gripped your arm tightly in its clutches.
You let out a small cry of terror, instantly alerting Daryl to your horrifying predicament. However, as you struggled against the literal death grip of the monster, its teeth trying desperately to take a chunk of your flesh, you realized that you couldn’t wait for Daryl to come to your rescue. By the time he would have managed to make it towards the other side of the truck, you would already be doomed. You had to take matters into your own hands.
Shakily, you drew your hand that held the knife back and plunged it deep into the thing’s skull with a sickening force. The monster miraculously fell limp with the first blow, its hand falling from your arm. However, before you could fully process that you had just killed something that was once human, Daryl took your face in his hands and checked you over, his eyes filled with fear. You had never seen him with as much terror in his eyes ever before.
“Are ya okay?” he asked in a hurried manner, his voice shaky as his blue eyes searched your body for any signs of hurt or discomfort. “Please tell me the prick didn’t get ya. No bites, no scratches, nothin’.”
“I’m okay,” you assured him, watching him calm down somewhat. “But we have to leave. Right now.”
“Yeah, let’s g—”
The deafening sound of a gunshot echoed through the area, followed closely by the rumble of a motorcycle. When the motorcycle came into view, you were both simultaneously relieved and disappointed to see none other than Merle Dixon. He stopped his motorcycle once he saw you, an exasperated look on his face.
“Y’all jus’ gon’ stand there and get eaten or get in the fuckin’ truck? I did not risk my life gettin’ here jus’ to watch y’all become a mid-day snack.”
Daryl opened the door to the passenger side and quickly ushered you in, shouting over his shoulder at Merle. “What the fuck are ya even doin’ here?!”
“Helpin’ yer sorry ass!” Merle exclaimed, shooting at another oncoming monster. “C’mon, let’s go!”
Daryl did not need to be told twice. He rushed to the driver’s side and hurriedly got in, starting up his truck and speeding out of the parking area, following behind Merle’s motorcycle. With all the chaos that had unfolded, the two of you hadn’t even managed to go grab some clothes from your apartment. However, by some stroke of luck, as you glanced towards the back of the truck, you noted that two duffel bags were resting there, as well as a bag with everything needed to construct a tent, as well as Daryl’s crossbow. You thanked your lucky stars that the two of you had gone camping for his hunting trip two days prior, and forgot to remove everything from his truck. The clothes were dirty, sure, but once you found a body of water, you’d be able to wash them. And Daryl’s crossbow would more than likely come in handy.
“Are ya okay?” Daryl asked, snapping you out of your thoughts. He was nervously chewing on his thumbnail, his eyes darting between you and the road.
You nodded at him, trying to calm your racing thoughts. In a matter of thirty minutes, your life had flipped upside down. You had killed someone, whether they were dead or not. The blood from the kill coated your skin and made you feel sick at your actions, but you tried to remind yourself that the thing you killed was not human anymore. If you didn’t kill it, it would’ve killed you. It would’ve killed—
Gasping, you sat upright and clutched at your stomach. Daryl looked at you worriedly, his eyes trailing to your stomach. His eyes widened in terror, his grip on the steering wheel tightening even more, if that was even possible.
“What’s wrong?” he questioned in alarm. “Oh, god. S’somethin’ wrong with Peanut? Did those pricks—”
“No! No, nothing’s wrong,” you reassured him, your hand resting on your stomach. “It’s just... With everything going on, I forgot about the baby. I forgot about my own child, Daryl. What kind of future mother does that make me?”
Daryl moved one of his hands to rest on your thigh, his thumb rubbing reassuring circles on the fabric of your jeans. He sent you a small smile, hoping to bring you some comfort.
“S’okay,” he told you. “Yer not gon’ be a bad mom. With everythin’ goin’ on, yer body went into fight or flight mode. S’cause of it that ya managed to keep the baby in yer belly safe. And once they’re here, I know yer gon’ do yer absolute best to protect ‘em. They’ve got the best damn mama ever.”
One month had passed. One month since the dead had started walking. One month since everything you knew had gotten destroyed. One month since you had stumbled upon a quarry camp filled with other survivors with your husband and brother-in-law. One month since your life had been turned upside down.
“I hope so,” you mumbled, resting your hand that wasn’t on your stomach over his hand that rested on your thigh. “I really hope so.”
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You sighed as you washed one of Daryl’s jeans, subtly listening to the other women making conversation, the women sitting quite a distance from you. Most of the ladies in the small camp you were in tended to keep their distance from you, deeming you damaged goods due to the people you were with. Well, more so because Merle was your brother in law. You and Daryl tended to keep to yourselves, with Daryl only speaking to others when absolutely necessary, but the same couldn’t be said for his hotheaded older brother. Merle had made quite the first impression on your fellow survivors, and not a good one. And automatically, by mere association, they had deemed you and Daryl the same. Most of the women simply referred to you as the archer’s girl, and you were pretty sure they didn’t even know your actual name.
Most of the women didn’t even bother acknowledging your existence most of the time. The only exception was a sweet woman named Carol Peletier, who offered you her kindness whenever she saw or spoke to you. She offered you advice on how to properly scrub stains from jeans, on how to fix up the holes in your husband’s socks, and so much more than that as well. She was the only one who you had felt comfortable enough sharing the secret of your pregnancy with, and even though she promised not to tell anyone, she silently offered you her support, and gave you advice regarding your pregnancy by telling you stories about her own pregnancy with little Sophia. Carol was your only true friend there, and you appreciated her on a profound level.
Without her, you probably would have snapped at the other women there for the judgemental looks they threw your way, so you deeply cherished the friendship you had formed with her.
The touch of a calloused yet gentle hand drew you from your thoughts. You looked up and locked eyes with your husband, his blue eyes staring down at you with a softness reserved only for you. You sent him a smile and dropped the pair of jeans you were washing on the ground, standing up to face him better.
“Ya know all’a that washin’ s’now ruined ‘cause ya dropped it in the mud, right?” he told you playfully, sending you a small smile.
You smiled and shrugged. “It’s your jeans. I’ve never heard you complain about a little mud on them before, considering those kills you have to skin that stained these jeans in the first place.”
Daryl chuckled and shook his head. “Yeah, yer right,” he replied, before his smile fell and he adapted a more serious tone. “I have to go huntin’.”
“Again?” you asked incredulously, your mood visibly deflating. “You went on a hunt not even two days ago.”
“Yeah, I know,” Daryl said with a heavy sigh, fidgeting with his hands. “But that Shane prick demanded that I go on another hunt again for some reason. I dun’ know why, ‘cause we have enough meat to last us another week or so, but he threatened to throw us out’a the camp if I didn’t go now. We can’t leave. ‘Specially not now.”
Your lips formed into a small smile as Daryl’s eyes trailed down to your stomach, his eyes softening slightly as he thought about the life that fluttered there beyond the skin, the life that he had helped create. His very own son or daughter. A small being that he would go to great lengths to protect, even if they weren’t born yet. His little Peanut.
You stepped forward and pressed a chaste kiss against his cheek, before withdrawing again. You giggled at the blush that spread across his face, and you did not miss the way his lips twitched up into a small smile. He could say whatever he wanted, but he secretly loved your little public displays of affection. It was never something big, like some passionate kiss or a full-blown make out session or something along those lines. It was always something small and sweet, something quick to show your affection without drawing too much attention to the two of you. A subtle graze of your hand against his, quick pecks on the cheek, a gentle squeeze on his shoulder, you name it. You knew how to show him love in public without making him uncomfortable, and he loved you for it.
“How long will you be gone?” you asked, nervously fidgeting with your fingers.
Daryl noticed and subtly took your hands in his, giving them a reassuring squeeze. “Ain’t no tellin’. Walsh demanded that I find some venison, and that might take me a while. Dun’ even know if there are any deer here.”
You pursed your lips and nodded. “Stay safe, okay? I love you.”
Daryl nodded. Stepping out of his own comfort zone, he leaned down and pressed a feathery light kiss to your lips. When he pulled back, he gently caressed your cheek. “Always am. And I love ya more, Sweetheart.”
With that, he turned around and left, leaving you standing alone with the unfinished laundry. Watching his retreating figure, you smiled fondly, completely missing the envious looks the other women were sending your way.
They had not heard your conversation, the two of you being too far away to overhear anything, but they did see the way the archer interacted with you. It was so vastly different from the way he talked to anyone, including his own brother, his own flesh and blood. It was clear there was a lot of history between the two of you, good and bad, and it made the two of you a strong couple. From what Merle had let slip in his high state once, the two of you had been together since you were both merely seventeen years old, and by the looks of it, the two of you were still going strong. The two of you radiated love for one another, and that’s more than most could say about their own past relationships.
Three days had passed. Three days where Daryl was nowhere to be found. Three days where you had to deal with Merle’s disgusting attitude on your own. Three days where you had to sleep alone in your shared tent, wishing, praying that he was there beside you.
It was clear the two of you shared something special, a deep, profound bond that went beyond what the naked eye could see, and it felt unfair to them that they couldn’t find love like that. And with the world at its end, they doubted that they ever would be able to.
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It seemed like Baby Dixon noticed their father’s absence, and they weren’t a fan of it. For the past three days, you had not managed to keep anything down in the depths of your stomach. Any and all food you ate came right back up again within a few hours, and it was not exactly pleasant. Thankfully, nobody saw you whenever you rushed to the bushes behind the RV to spew out the contents of your stomach, so nobody knew of your pregnancy just yet.
And you had Carol by your side whenever your stomach rebelled against you, so that was a major plus for you.
“God, I hate this so much,” you groaned in frustration, eliciting a laugh from the woman gently rubbing your back.
“It’s what comes with the joys of pregnancy,” she laughed lightly, continuing the circular motion on your back until you felt better. Once you stood upright, she handed you a bottle of water, encouraging you to drink as much as you needed to. “Drink up. You need to stay hydrated.”
Once you had enough to drink, you handed her the bottle again. “Thank you,” you thanked her, giving her a small smile. “How’d you handle it? The morning sickness, I mean.”
“I was lucky enough to only experience a mild case of morning sickness,” Carol explained, wrapping her arm around you and starting to walk with you back to the main campsite. “You know, and I’m not saying this to pressure you at all, but maybe you should tell everyone about your pregnancy. It would be good for Glenn to be on the lookout for prenatal vitamins.”
“I can’t,” you denied instantaneously. “Then everyone will look at me like I’m carrying the black plague and see me as just another liability. I can’t have that. Daryl and I can handle things on our own until we absolutely have to tell everyone.”
“Okay,” Carol replied, before shifting the conversation away from something that quite obviously stressed you out, and she knew that stress was not good for the baby. “I drank a lot of herbal teas when I was pregnant. That seemed to really work for the nausea.”
“Just great,” you sighed, shaking your head. “Where the fuck are we supposed to find that?”
Carol smiled and gently rubbed your shoulder. “I’ll see if Dale has some. I remember him mentioning something about ginger tea.”
“What if he asks why you need it?” you asked hurriedly with worry evident in your tone.
“Don’t worry, I won’t tell him,” she reassured you. “I’ll just tell him I’m feeling nauseous. That something I ate isn’t corresponding with my stomach. Trust me, he’ll believe it.”
You sent her a smile. “Thanks, Carol. I mean it.”
She smiled at you before disappearing into the RV, on a search for Dale. You stood waiting outside, staring ahead at the treeline. You hoped that by continuously looking at it, your husband would appear from the trees with a deer over his shoulders, dirty but unharmed. Alas, as you had learned over the last few days that has passed, that did not work, and you wished you could go out there and look for him yourself, but you knew he’d be beyond mad if you did.
No, your main priority was your baby at that moment. Your husband had shown time and time again that he could take care of himself, so you chose to believe that he would be fine. You had to believe that, otherwise you would spiral into an abyss you did not want to go down.
The feeling of somebody standing next to you startled you. You stumbled and nearly fell, but the hands of the mystery person caught you. Looking up, you locked eyes with the self-appointed leader of the group, Shane Walsh. His brown eyes were staring down at you, a small grin on his face.
“Sorry, girl. Didn’t mean to startle you,” he apologized, slightly rubbing your arms.
“What’s your story, lady?” he asked curiosly, leaning back against the metal of the RV, his eyes trailing over you in a way you did not like.
Feeling extremely uncomfortable, you shrugged his hands from your arms and took a step back, putting some distance between the two of you. You sent him a tight-lipped smile. “It’s okay,” you replied, hoping that he would end the conversation with that. However, the man had other plans.
“My story?”
“Yeah,” he nodded. “What’s a pretty girl like yourself doing with a low life nothing like Daryl Dixon? I mean, you could have anyone you want, but you chose him, the good-for-nothing redneck. Why?”
“Because I love him,” you stated matter-of-factly, sending him a harsh glare that only seemed to spur him on even more.
“Bullshit. There’s gotta be something to it,” he disagreed, chuckling at the glare on your face. “There’s no way that a guy like that managed to pull someone like you. It goes against all the laws of the universe. So tell me, what’s he got to offer? Is he paying you? Are you some prostitute he keeps around for his own pleasure or something? You certainly look pretty enough to have a guy pay you for something like that.”
Before you could stutter out an angry reply to Shane’s deeply offensive, deprecating accusation, a hand gently gripped your shoulder and pulled you aside. Looking up, you saw Daryl, an angry look in his eyes. Without a word, he stepped forward and viciously connected his fist with Shane’s nose, hearing the satisfying crack of the bone there.
“Son of a bitch!” Shane exclaimed, bending over to clutch his nose in his hands. “What the fuck, Dixon?!”
Daryl gripped Shane by the collar of his shirt and shoved him against the side of the RV, a threatening glare on his face. Terror filled Shane’s eyes, something unusual for the for the former sherrif’s deputy. Everyone started gathering around the fighting pair, and Carol, who had rushed from the RV once she had heard the commotion, pulled you back from the battle ground, holding you firmly against her side.
“Listen’a me real fuckin’ close, Walsh,” Daryl spat angrily, his voice dangerously low. “I dun’ care what ya say ‘bout me, but if ya ever talk ‘bout my pregnant wife like that again, I’ll do so much worse than jus’ break yer nose. Ya dun’ talk to her, ya dun’ look at her, ya dun’ even breathe the same fuckin’ air as her. If ya do, I’ll skin ya alive and feed the remainin’ pieces of ya to the walkers. Do I make myself clear?”
“Fuck you,” Shane groaned out.
“Yer venison’s on the table. Next time, go hunt for it yer fuckin’ self.”
Without waiting for a response, Daryl shoved Shane harshly and turned around, meeting your eyes. Instead of finding fear in your eyes from his actions, he found adoration instead. You stepped out of Carol’s hold and took Daryl’s hand in your own, dragging him to your shared tent. You didn’t even spare a glance at the people, so you missed the way all of their eyes widened at the realization that you were pregnant, that they had been unnecessarily rude to a pregnant lady that had done absolutely nothing wrong to them. They had been harsh to an expecting mother and father, and for no reason at all. Everyone felt guilty, but the groan that Shane emitted caught their attention once again.
“I’m not mad, you know,” you finally broke the silence, watching the way his ocean-coloured eyes flickered over to you, the confusion evident in them. “Shane got what he deserved. Quite honestly, I planned on punching him, too. You just beat me to it.”
Back in your shared tent with Daryl, you were stood busy, gently cleaning the blood from his split knuckles whilst the man sat on the cot. Daryl was avoiding your eyes, feeling ashamed of his actions. In all the years that you had been together, you had only seen him lash out like that once—one time when you were drinking together in a bar when you were twenty-four, a guy had grabbed your breast without your consent, and Daryl had completely lost it. After that, he swore he would never act like that around you ever again, but Shane had made him break that promise.
“M’sorry,” Daryl mumbled, ducking his gaze to the floor. “I know ya can fight yer own battles. S’jus’... Hearin’ the way he talked ‘bout ya, like ya were some object whose worth he could judge... I dun’ know. It made me pissed. Ya dun’ deserve to be treated like that, ‘specially not when yer carryin’ a baby in yer belly.” He sighed and placed his good hand on your stomach. “Speakin’ of, m’sorry I revealed that yer pregnant. I know ya wanted to keep that hidden for as long as possible.”
You smiled and gently lifted his chin with your finger, gazing deeply into his eyes. “It’s okay. They would’ve found out eventually,” you told him, gently cupping his cheek. “Look at you, always so considerate about everyone else except yourself. You’re amazing, Daryl Dixon.”
Daryl blushed. “Yer the amazin’ one,” he countered, leaning forward to rest his forehead on your stomach. He placed a small kiss to the clothed skin. “Peanut’s gon’ have one hell of a mama.”
“And one hell of a daddy,” you replied, bringing one of your hands to thread through his hair. “I love you, Daryl.”
“Love ya more, Peach,” Daryl murmured, closing his eyes at the comforting feeling, his head still resting against your stomach. “Love ya too, Peanut,” he whispered to your belly, and it made you smile.
The serene moment was soon interrupted. The soft calling from Carol grabbed your attention, and you giggled at the groan Daryl let out.
“Y/N?” she called out. “I’ve got that ginger tea I promised you.”
“Ginger tea?” Daryl questioned, looking up at you.
“Yeah. I got a bunch of morning sickness without you around for some reason. It seems like Baby Dixon doesn’t like it when their daddy’s not here.”
“Good,” Daryl chuckled, rubbing your stomach affectionately. “Then I guess ya won’t mind if I stick ‘round.”
“Hmm,” you hummed, pretending to think about it before letting out a light giggle. “I guess I’ll keep you around.”
“That’s real good to hear.”
Before you could respond, you heard the bellowing voice of your brother-in-law. You groaned in frustration, praying that Carol had gotten out of the line of fire, because your tent was about to become a war ground.
“When the fuck were ya plannin’ on tellin’ me ya got that lil’ whore’a yers pregnant?”
Daryl visibly tensed up at his brother’s words, anger flaring up in his eyes, and you knew that another beating was about to commence. “The fuck did ya jus’ say, Merle?!”
“Ya heard me, boy.”
God, you hated Merle with a fiery passion, and you doubted that it would ever change. But you loved Daryl, and you knew that as long as you had him by your side, you could face anything.
Yeah, your little Peanut was gonna have the best father ever.
©dixons-sunshine 2024. I do not give permission for my works to be copied, modified, adapted or translated to any other site or platform without evidence of my given consent.
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fantasykiri5 · 11 months ago
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I feel like saying it again now that there’s less time again, but you can send me drawing requests with a screenshot of your vote (for smallidarity of course) and I’ll draw it!! I don’t really have any limits, so send me over!!
ROUND 2 | MATCH 6
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suempu · 20 days ago
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thinking about a random servant or worker walking in on you and laios locking lips near the windows of the throne room.
the worker stutters a silent yelp before leaving with a flushed face, feeling guilty about the accidental intrusion.
they don’t think much about it, brushing it off as the king seeking solace in his lover’s arms when the affairs of the kingdom takes a toll.
it’s not until a few days later when they walk around the halls, a bucket and rag in their hands when faint giggles and hushed whispers echoes quietly under the moonlit walls.
their eyes nearly bulge out of their sockets— and it might as well have dropped to the floor because the sight before them would leave anyone in confusion.
there you were again, arms trapping the advisor against the windows. you both seem to be in a dance of playful banter. and the worker normally wouldn’t think much of it, if it weren’t for kabru’s hands on your hips, massaging it gently.
‘have i just witnessed an… affair…!?” the worker’s mind echoes as they walk away, jaw nearly on the floor while a blush paints on their cheeks.
oh. what would the king think? everyone would go crazy-! and with the advisor, no less! this is so scandalous!!
the servant waddles off to scrub dirt and grime off a random wall, hoping to forget what they’d seen.
days later, after convincing themselves that it was just a mistake, that there was no way you could ever be unfaithful to the king, that they must have read the situation incorrectly, and surely that was it!
they walk into the library, pushing a cleaning trolley after the librarian had told them of the dusty books that needed to be cleaned. and of course, they took the task enthusiastically —anything to get the questions and temptations of gossip off their mind.
turning around the corner, their mouth opens agape, feeling another rush of blood flowing to their face as they stared in confusion and disbelief.
the advisor wrapped in a tight embrace…. against the king. kabru was focused on a book, lips pursed as laios rubs his head against the man’s shoulder. like a dog that ached for warmth and hugs.
the worker quickly pushed the cleaning cart towards the door. surely the librarian wouldn’t mind if the books got even more dustier, right? i mean—this castle has been buried for centuries, what’s a few hundred more-?!
the twin doors suddenly open, with your figure bouncing lightly on the tiled floors. “oh, hello!” you greet them politely, but not before a look of surprise and confusion flashes by on your features. you must have not expected another person here.
clutching the handle of the cart, the servant nods politely after stuttering out a greeting. they tilt their gaze and watch as you greet both the advisor and king with a peck on the cheek.
and….
oh… oh. it was like that, huh?
the worker quickly glances away, afraid of intruding in another intimate moment.
they quickly regain their composure and turn back, rolling the cart further into the library. if the relationship wasn’t a secret… then they should just get the job done!
“good morning.” laios says when they pass by. while kabru, now leaning against the table but unable to escape the king’s arm on his waist, gives them a smile for a greeting. you’re squished against the advisor’s side, chin on his shoulder as you try to sneak a peak into the book he was reading.
the servant stammers out, “i’m h-here to clean the library… apologies, your majesty...”
“ahhh, there’s no need for that. we appreciate your work.” laios waves a hand and the worker pushes onward with a nod.
well.
at least their confusion and paranoia had been quelled. now they just hope that they won’t walk in on anything else.
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ameliathornromance · 20 days ago
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9:24am:
“Okay, okay, I have to go! I’ll be late for the train!” You push your Orc away, laughing as he tries to press another, final kiss onto your lips.
Chuckling, he locks the door behind the two of you and the pair of you set off down your flats hall and to the lift. “Make sure you have a good day today, yeah?” He tells you as the lift dings and opens.
“You too, tell me whether or not you managed to tell your friends about the house warming tonight.” You smile. Today was the day, from 3 o’clock onwards, it was go time. You felt guilty… A little. But you knew that the guilt would be worth it if it meant that you got to surprise your Boyfriend with the best Anniversary party he’d never forget.
He’d caught you mid planning – you were sat on your phone looking at cake recipes and he just had to look over your shoulder and ruin the fun. Lucky you were able to cover by saying it was a ‘house-warming party.’
“But, we moved in like, two weeks ago?” He’d said, smile fading on his face. “Aren’t you supposed to have them the day you move in?”
“That’s just too chaotic!” You said, laughing a little too hard. “Who has one of those on moving in day? Talk about overwhelming, am I right?” Your heart squeezed when he turned away, eyebrows furrowed in clear disappointment.
You knew he thought you’d forget. Everything was so… much at the moment. Coupled with moving in a few weeks ago, you had plausible deniability to be forgetful.
No, you reminded yourself as the lift descended to the ground floor. No time for guilt, you had to get this show on the road.
“Of course I will, you’ve been planning it for weeks, of course I’ll tell everyone.” Your Orc’s smile faltered slightly. Did you really forget such an important date as your anniversary? Your Orc thought.
Sure, he might have jumped the gun a bit, bought you both a flat to live in for an early present, but who doesn’t get a little overexcited about two years with the love of their life?
There wasn’t even a ‘happy anniversary’ when you both woke up. Your Orc hadn’t said anything either – he’d already said it a hundred times over when he was showing you the flat he bought… you saying it back once on the day wasn’t that much to ask for, was it?
“You okay?” You asked, eyebrows furrowed.
His smile returned, more vacant this time. “Yeah, I’m fine.”
And with that, the two of you set off to work.
10:56am:
Excusing yourself to the bathroom, you dial your partner.
“Hello?”
“Sadie’s annoying me again, she can never keep her mouth shut about her son.” Locking the cubicle door, sitting on a cubicle toilet with the lid down, you fume. “She’s such a boy mum.”
“You know it’s polite to say hello back, right?” your Orc replied, a smirk in his voice. “Don’t tell me she’s coming to the party tonight.” He’d heard all about your vendetta against Sadie, the boy-mother who couldn’t keep her spawn out of her conversation for two minutes. If Sadie was as bad as she sounded, your boyfriend didn’t want to meet her.
“God no.” You said. The bathroom door opened and closed, you lowered your voice, “if I have to hear about ‘precious Braydon is the top of his class again!’ in my own home I might throttle her. Being a parent is fine, but if you’re going to make it your whole personality, don’t even have kids!”
Your Orc sighed from the other end of the phone: “babe, if you’re just calling me to complain about Sadie-”
“No, that wasn’t the only thing!” You said, quickly. “Um… I was hoping that you could stop and get some… fish for tonight.” You lied. There were things that still needed to be done at home, you couldn’t have your Orc coming home too early. Your friends were already at your place, helping you out by decorating. You just needed to cook and do some final touches.
“Fish?” He asked, doubtfully.
“Mhm.” You affirmed. The bathroom sink ran, shut off before the entrance swung open and closed again. “Please? I forgot that June is pescatarian and now I’m going to look like a total bitch for not thinking of her.” While it was true that June was pescatarian, you had to keep your Orc out of the flat. That, and there was already some freshly caught Place at the flat, skilfully hidden away in the freezer.
Everything had to be perfect, including making your friend feel more comfortable.
Your heart twinges as your Orc Boyfriend sighs down the phone. “Okay, I’ll stop by the Fish Monger's on my way home.”
You wanted to tell him that you’re sorry, sorry that he has to go out and spend his money to help you make this surprise… but there are necessary evils in this world.
“Thank you, I love you.”
“I love you too.”
3:15pm:
“We’re in trouble,” was the first thing you heard on the phone. Your best friend had called you, “there weren’t enough streamers, so we improvised.”
“What did you do?” Stomach dropping, you held your breath. It can’t be that bad, right? You reassured yourself, it’s not like your best friend is crazy, they’ve got-
“… You remember June’s Hen night?”
Oh no.
“We to cut up her old sash!” Your best friend exclaims, “it’s shiny and glittery, and she said it was fine!”
You face palm. Leaving work early to get home for this surprise was crucial, you didn’t have time for last minute stops. Your Orc Boyfriend had bought the pair of you a flat for Gods sake, you needed to give him something amazing back too. And it can’t be amazing if there’s the cut up words: ‘Bride to Be’ decorating the room.
He might get the wrong idea if he looks too closely at them. “Look, I’ll head to that party shop on the way back home so we can clean this up.” Rubbing the bridge of your nose, you bid your goodbye and got on the train.
5:33pm:
Running a sleeve along your forehead, pulling out the last cake from the oven and setting it on the side, the door bell rang.
Dread shot through you. Before you could even remove your oven gloves, June was already rushing to the door.
Thank God for the Fish distraction, you thought as a few of your Orc’s friends stepped through the door: An Elf – Leo, your Orc’s college friend, a Goblin – Blik, childhood friend of your Orcs, and Fox-hybrid – Val, your Orc’s best friend from work. “Can you get started on the icing and prepare the wine?” You ask them.
Val let’s out a snicker at your haggard appearance but glides over. “Sure sweetie, what can I do to get started?”
After explaining to Val what you needed help with, you turned to Leo. “You brought the flute, right?”
The Elf gave a nod, his long hair swaying. “Are you alright, dear?” asked Blik, jumping up onto the breakfast table stool opposite you. He leans against the counter, tilting his head. “Do you want me to do something? You look like a mess.”
“Really?!” Your voice cracks at the obvious statement. Everything had to be perfect, of course you were a mess.
Leo was by your side and taking away the oven mitts from you, “leave this to me and Val, go freshen up. Wouldn’t want him to worry about you during the party you prepared.”
“But-” you start, but Leo silences you with a smile at you. “You can relax a little now, we’re all here to help.”
And you did. Leo was always good with words, partly why he and your Boyfriend had stayed close for so long – because he was always good at calming down situations.
Leaving the pair to finish the work, you evacuate to your bedroom.
6:30pm:
Your Orc didn’t believe what you said on the phone. Not one bit. You, who was super conscious about the people around you? Forget that someone had a dietary preference? No. That wasn’t like you.
But never the less, he walked into the Fish Monger’s and grabbed salmon, halibut, trout and cod. A variety of things – he wasn’t sure what June would like – and walking out of the shop, he checks his phone. No calls, no texts.
He sighs. There’s something going on here.
And then it clicked. Smiling, he tosses the bag of fish in the back of his car and clambers inside.
Your Orc refuses to believe that you would be so forgetful.
You had a surprise, didn’t you?
6:59pm:
Adjusting the pot of flowers on the coffee table, you bit your lip. “(Y/N). Stop.” Your best friend takes your hands in theirs. “It’s okay, everything will be perfect.”
You take one last look at the flower pot and sigh. Eyes sweeping the room one last time, make sure that the balloons are all inflated, streamers and bunting are where they’re supposed to be and that the food is ready to go.
The front door jangles, you dart for the lights, your friends duck behind the sofa and your Orc’s companions hide behind the breakfast bar.
Darkness shrouds the in-house occupants as you stand, back flush against the wall, praying that your Boyfriend doesn’t spot you when you’re so close to the front door.
The hallway light spills in and casts his large shadow further into the front room.
He doesn’t move for a moment, watching the darkness carefully. Finally, you switch the light.
As soon as the lights come on, everyone jumps up. “Surprise!”
Your Orc’s eyes widen, the edges of his lips curling upwards. He knew it. This wasn’t
“Happy Anniversary!” You approach him and take him by the arm. You smile up at him, “come in,”
“Wait, what is this?” Your Orc Boyfriend plays dumb, “I thought this was a house-warming party.”
“Well, it kind of is.” You rub the back of your head, “but… I felt bad. You bought this whole flat for us and… There’s nothing equal that I could give back to you. So, I thought that, since this was an anniversary present, I’d set up a party with a few of our friends.” You beam.
Your Orc’s eyes scoop around the room, friends smiling at him and beaming. “They helped me get some of this stuff ready of course, my friends did the decorations and yours helped me with baking… Leo said he’s also going to play flute for us.”
The Elf nods, holding up the silvery instrument.
As everyone went to raid the numerous amount of dishes you had prepared, your Boyfriend looks at you as if you were some dreamy mirage.
“What’s that for?” You ask, raising an eyebrow as guests chatter to each other.
Your Orc shakes his head. “Nothing.”
10:21pm:
“I have a confession.” Your Orc says.
The flat had emptied of it’s guests, only leaving you two behind. Sitting on the sofa, wine glasses in hand and surrounded by the chaos that party goers leave behind. Party popper streamers littering the ground and coffee table, over populated with plates and empty wine glasses.
“What?” you ask, smiling.
“I kind of figured out that you were planning a surprise.”
Your smile falters, “did someone tell you? It was Val wasn’t it? That slippery-”
“No, no.” Your Orc tucks a lock of hair behind your ear, “I realised while I was on the way back from the Fisherman's.”
“Oh.” You purse your lips. “Was it that obvious?”
“It’s not like you to forget something so important.” He shrugs. “Even if it was last minute, you remembered that June was pescatarian. That’s what gave it away.”
You let on a weak grin.
“And that’s why I wasn’t all that surprised when I came in.” He took another swig from his wine glass.
“I’ll make sure to do better next time.” You say, looking at the mess in front of you. All that effort to keep the party a secret and it still flunked.
“Don’t be like that,” your Orc turned you to face him, thumb against your chin. “There was nothing to be better at, I loved the surprise… Even if it wasn’t really one.” And with a kiss on your forehead, the pair of you settled into the sofa, falling asleep in each others arms.
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