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angelwings-crossbowstrings · 10 months ago

Text

But Put Together, the Cracks We’ll Close In

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Setting: Early Alexandria

Warnings: Typical TWD violence and gore; mentions of past child abuse; mentions of suggested abortion; blood and injury

Summary: Fresh into Alexandria, Daryl meets his match in a two year little girl and slowly loses his heart to her mother. You.

A/N: Based on the request/headcanon from @louifaith Just a couple of things. The child is described as in hair and eye color. Nothing is mentioned of reader so these traits could come from her father. There is also the mention of an “Eskimo kiss.” I grew up hearing and using that term but I’m not sure if it is offensive or PC nowadays. please feel free to send me a message if I need to change it. It is not my intention to be offensive to anyone! Also, sorry if anyone likes Spencer. He's always my go to asshole. I received my answer on the above questioned term. I will definitely not be using it again! It has been edited out. *gif is not mine

“S’that?”

Daryl felt the opossum sway in his grip, looking down with a scowl firmly plastered at the bright eyes returning his gaze, brimming with curiosity. She was a toddler, maybe two years old? Christ, someone had a toddler in this mess. “Dinner.” He grunted, pulling the dead animal out of her reach. He found out quickly that the curious little creature would not be deterred so easily. Standing on her tip-toes, she made a grab for the marsupial. “Knock it off.” He huffed and took a step back, bumping into Carol.

“Daryl, she’s a child. Don’t be such a grump.”

“Ain’t you got a mama—family to get back to?” He snapped, ignoring his best friend. The little girl’s eyes brightened.

“Mama! Mama!” She clapped. Daryl rolled his eyes at her enthusiasm.

“Yeah, go get ‘er.” There was an intense sigh of relief when the little human went running (waddling?) out of sight. “They got kids here.”

“Yes, Daryl. That’s what that was.” Carol nudged him playfully. “The people seem to think they’re safe here. It gives me the creeps.” He nodded but didn’t comment. “They obviously don’t know what’s going on out there, not like we do. I think we need to be cautious here. Find a way to fit in but keep our guard up, you know?”

Daryl snorted. “Yeah, good luck with that. Ain’t got no intention of tryin’ to fit in with these folks. Livin’ in a fuckin’ fairytale here. Ain’t gonna last.”

“You’re such a ray of sunshine.” Sasha clapped him on the shoulder as she passed, earning yet another grunt.

“Mama, here!”

Oh dear god, no. “S’back.” The hunter stated flatly.

“Oh, and she brought a friend.” Sure enough, the little girl was dragging you along, tugging incessantly at your hand as if the child had found the world’s most priceless treasure. “You did tell her to ‘go get her.’”

“Nadia, slow down!”

And slow down, she did. Right in front of a scowl-wearing redneck with a bleeding opossum in his grasp.

“Mama, dinner! Dorl dinner.”

Dorl?!? Daryl looked helplessly over to where Carl was carrying Judith, the little light of his life. Would this be what she was like as she grew up? She already knew him, loved him despite how broken and hopeless he was. She would laugh at him if he was ranting about something and hold out those chubby little hands and he was done for, whatever had irritated him was forgotten.

But this child? This wasn’t his lil’ asskicker.

Daryl liked kids but he liked them from a distance. He had no business being around them, save for Carl and Judith. I wish I could have known Sophia. He wouldn’t bother getting to know anyone in this place. It’d burn like every other home they had anyway.

“Dorl, huh?” You smiled.

“Daryl.” He replied flatly, his lip curling.

“I’m Y/N. I assume Aaron found your group?”

He didn’t answer, too occupied with trying to continuously move away from the small child clumsily reaching for his knife sheath. “Stop that.” He barked, expecting the kid to balk. She did quite the opposite and wrapped her tiny arms around his leg, just below his knee. What the fuck was he supposed to do now? Shake her off? Of course not. She might get hurt. While he really didn’t want to be touched, he couldn’t help but feel like it was somehow his job to make sure this kid wasn’t hurt. “Can ya—would ya—?” Shoulders slumped, he didn’t even gesture. You know what he was asking.

Chuckling, you reached down and gently pried the little girl loose. “Nadia, you’re supposed to ask before hugs, remember?”

“Hug Dorl.” The dark-headed child pouted.

That was his cue to step away, as quickly as possible, without running. He absolutely did not run.

When you looked up, he was already gone, lost in the middle of his group as they headed in to surrender weapons and be interviewed by Deanna.

Daryl sat on the now red-stained porch, prepping his kill for cooking later. Carol had scolded him and made him promise to use the backyard going forward, but he doubted they would be there long enough for him to need the area. It was just the way the world was. Nice places like this could never last.

“Dorl dinner!”

Jesus take the wheel. “Ya need a bell.” He grunted, looking around for you. “An’ apparently a leash.” Maybe if he ignored her, she would go find you. But what if she wandered off alone and somehow made it out of the gates? Shit. “Sit down, gremlin.”

She giggled and patted her chunky hands against her chest. “Nada.”

Daryl stopped moving and stared for a moment. Wasn’t that Spanish? Maybe? Wait. You had called her Nadia. Maybe that’s what she was trying to say. “Nadia?” Blue eyes squinted in wait.

Nadia bounced and nodded and then pointed at him. “Dorl! Dorl, Nada!”

He released his knife and leaned his elbow against his knee, the heel of his hand pressing into his forehead. “Dare-ul.” He tried.

“Dooorl.”

“Oh, for fucksake.” The archer gave up, picking up his knife and continuing with his task. Nadia didn’t even seem to notice what he was doing but leaned in closely with the most serious look he’d ever seen. He needed to lean back once she made it much too far into his personal space.

“Fucksy.” She said, maintaining eye contact as if she were challenging him.

“No! Don’t say that. Can’t be teachin’ ya sh—stuff like that!” He panicked, opossum forgotten. Daryl threw back his head with a groan. “Can’tcha please just go to your mama?”

Nadia’s little face lit up and off she went with a chorus of mama mama mama. Watching her go, Daryl wondered where the little one’s father was, but soon banished the thought. It was none of his business. What was his business was to make sure the annoying curtain-climber made it home safely. Abandoning his dinner—no time to cover it if he was going to catch up—he walked briskly until he caught sight of her. Little legs can fuckin’ move. We’re fucked when Jude learns to walk.

He stayed close, but far back enough to not catch her attention. She seemed to know exactly where she was going. Rounding the curb to the end of the street, he caught sight of the small house. Quaint compared to the other homes. The front door was open but he dared not go closer. Boots firmly planted on the sidewalk, he observed the struggle of a tiny human tackling front porch steps. Nadia was determined though. Had he chosen to help, he was certain she would give him that serious look again and yell at him in baby-speak.

“Nadia Avery, how do you keep getting out the door!”

Maybe cause you leave it open? He suppressed the urge to roll his eyes.

Regardless, there you were, swooping down to gather the bundle into your arms with a couple of sobs and more than a few sniffles. “Baby, you have to stop doing that! You scare mommy.” Nadia was nuzzling your jaw but then suddenly pointed right at him.

“Dorl got Nada.”

When your eyes found his own, Daryl froze. His arms were out to his sides, his eyes wide. He looked nothing short of a deer caught in the sights of his crossbow when it realized it’s about to be shot. “I—uh, kid found me.” Forcing himself to relax a fraction, he rubbed at the back of his neck. “Didn’t want ‘er wand’rin’ ‘round by herself.”

Your face softened into a grateful smile. “Thank you for making sure she got home.” He nodded curtly and you turned away, only to turn back in the same motion. “Would you like to come inside? I have some stew that I’m heating. Plenty for the three of us.”

A part of him that he didn’t know existed wanted to immediately accept the offer but the part of him that had kept him alive this long spoke louder. “Nah, got my own dinner I need to take care’a. Thanks, though.”

You nodded, the smile never faltering. “Think of it as a standing invitation. Nadia seems to like you. She’s a good judge of character.”

He snorted. “Alright.”

“Goodnight, Daryl.”

“Night.” He took two steps.

“Nigh’ nigh’, Dorl!”

He heard the sound of a kiss being blown his way, but didn’t turn around. Maybe if he ignored her, she’d go away.

It had been three days since he had last seen you or Nadia. He found that it unsettled him but not enough to go looking. Aaron had gifted him a work area and parts to build himself a bike. It was the best thing anyone could have offered him at that point. He felt like he still wasn’t fitting in, and while that was the idea at first, now it just felt…lonely.

Carol was always gone when he got up and not home yet when we retired to bed. Rick and Michonne couldn’t stay out of the bedroom for more than five minutes unless something ‘coppy’ needed to be handled. Carl was always outside with Jude in the nice weather.

Daryl was alone. Though he usually preferred it that way, he couldn’t seem to shake the negativity it seemed to bring to the surface.

Spending time around something familiar from the old world came to be a comfort. When the posh little community with its “good morning” while walking the dog and laughter over coffee at the gazebo became too much for Daryl, he disappeared into Aaron’s garage. Aaron and his husband seemed okay in the archer’s book. They never once stared at him like he was going to rob them blind or beat them to a pulp. They showed him kindness even if his only attempts at conversation consisted of nods and grunts.

“You going to this party tonight?” Aaron asked from the doorway the led into the house from the garage.

“Nah.” Daryl picked up a wrench and continued his work, not giving the question a proper thought.

“You really should make an effort to get to know more people here.”

“They don’t like me. Shouldn’t, really.” The archer shrugged.

“They just don’t know you. Maybe you should give them a chance.” Aaron kept his persuasion in the doorway. He had gifted Daryl that space and was unwilling to step into it without an invitation he was unlikely to receive without asking.

“Better they don’t know me.”

There was a sigh that made Daryl curl his lip. “Just think about it, okay?” The shuffle of feet and the door opening signaled the other man’s exit.

Why should Daryl go? He had little interest in fitting in, even when his own group was making such an effort. Carol and Rick were wary and had whatever it was they had but Carol would tell him if she felt it necessary. Daryl was just plain wary, utterly uninterested. Most of them would likely be dead soon and he didn’t need anyone else to mourn.

So why he found himself showered and in a fresh set of clothing that was his own form of presentable was absolutely beyond him. It had nothing to do with the fact that on his walk home, he thought maybe you’d be at the party. Nope, nothing like that.

He had made it at least to the yard outside, watching the festivities through the window. Everyone he knew seemed so at ease in there. Dressed up, laughing and drinking. Mingling like they belonged there. He didn’t belong there.

“Nah.” He said softly before turning away. He was passing by Aaron’s house when a call of his name from that familiar voice had him stopping with a sigh. “Yeah?”

“You went. Good for you. Did you have a good time?” Aaron asked from the porch. Daryl shrugged. The man’s eyes narrowed and suddenly the archer was nervous, feeling judged. “You didn’t go in, did you?”

Daryl shook his head. “Just ain’t my thing.”

“Hey, you tried.”

“Why didn’t you go?” That wasn’t supposed to sound so accusatory but Daryl was tired and had simply had his fill of the day and that place.

“Eric’s ankle is still giving him trouble. We just thought it best to skip out on this one.”

This one? Christ. That insinuated there would be more. With an inward groan, he answered outwardly with a grunt.

“We’ve got dinner ready. More than can feed us. Can we tempt you?” The offer was sincere and Daryl was hungry, but his battery was running on fumes. He glanced toward his own home and then back at Aaron. “Eric makes a mean spaghetti, man. Come on, you’re already out.”

Daryl sighed. “Fine.” He was grateful for the invitation, he just sucked at showing it, as with almost every other emotion. Aaron held open the door and with a nod, the archer entered, still ill at ease being inside someone else’s home when his own still felt less than comfortable.

“Dorl.”

Before he could prepare himself, Nadia was latching onto his lower legs. Arms out awkwardly, he glared at Aaron. “Didn’t say she was here.”

The man just shrugged a shoulder. “Didn’t say she wasn’t either.”

“Hi, Daryl!” You came around the corner from the dining room, no doubt to gather your spawn but he couldn’t seem to form a thought around the smile you were giving him.

“Mama! Dorl!”

“I can see that, baby. You think you can let go so that he can walk?” Nadia shook her head with a vicious pout.

“Dorl up?”

“What?” He looked down at the toddler and back up at you, silently hoping you’d act as translator for the little gremlin.

“She wants you to pick her up. You don’t—”

For reasons unbeknownst to even him, he bent down and placed his hands beneath Nadia’s arms, lifting her onto his hip. It felt no different than holding Judith. Nadia was heavier of course.

“Dorl!” Chubby arms wrapped around his neck, her little cheek rubbing against his stubbled one. “Tickle.” She giggled like it was the funniest thing in the world and repeated the action.

You were still smiling but much more softly. “She really likes you.” Daryl grunted. “You don’t say much, do you?”

“Ain’t gotta lot to say.” He shrugged the shoulder Nadia’s chin was resting on, sending her into another fit of giggles. She pulled back suddenly, very in his space and then pressed her face against his cheek. He flinched but otherwise didn’t move. There was the smallest flutter that tickled his skin before she reared back again, smiling proudly. “What—”

“Butterfly kisses.” You informed, arms crossed but your smile hidden behind your hand.

“What the fu—heck’s that?”

“Oh come on, you never gave your mom butterfly kisses?” You chuckled.

Daryl felt nauseous at the mention of his mother. The only thing he’d shared with her were bruises and a few after-beating hugs. But you didn’t know him. He took the anger and locked it down, but it must have spilled into his expression.

“I’m sorry.” Your smile was gone, but to his surprise (and relief), there was no pity in your eyes. Only understanding. Still, it wasn’t a subject he cared to let linger.

He turned his attention to the child, who had developed a sudden interest in the hair over his ears. “Ya ever gave a nose kiss?” He almost laughed out loud when Nadia’s eyes flew wide with wonder. She didn’t confirm or deny but the fact that she hadn’t moved was answer enough. “S’simple.” Daryl brought a hand up to the back of her head and gently urged her forward, rubbing the tip of his nose over hers. “There. Nose kiss.”

She kept those wide eyes as her little mouth began to spread open into one of the biggest smiles he’d ever seen on a kid, granted he hadn’t spent much time around any.

“Again!” She squealed, grabbing his cheeks and pulling him forward. He expected to have a bloody nose from the force with which she came at him, but her movements became deliberate and gentle, as if getting it right was the most important thing in the world.

Nadia was incredibly pleased with herself, her little hands patting against Daryl’s chest before she wiggled out her request for freedom and sprinted toward the dining room with this newfound information to share with Eric and Aaron.

“Careful.” You said, though there was no hint of anything unkind in your tone. When he looked away from the other room, he found your expression to be one he couldn’t seem to identify. It was soft yet guarded. He didn’t move away when you reached a single hand out to adjust his vest. “You’re smiling.” And you walked away, leaving him there to realize that he was indeed wearing a small, lopsided grin.

He shook it off with a groan, absolutely regretting his decision to come in for dinner.

“Dorl!” Came the loud shout from the table. “Dorl, sketti!”

This was not going to end well.

It had been two weeks since the spaghetti dinner, which in fact had ended rather pleasantly. Aside from your giggles when he realized he was eating his meal with the same gusto and manners as the toddler next to him, Aaron had offered him a job that let him go outside the walls. He’d accepted almost immediately.

Little Nadia had been determined to take him home with them, so he walked you there with her tiny hand in his. Halfway, she had begun to tire and fuss, instinct had kicked in and he scooped her up in the same manner he would Judith. The child was asleep on his shoulder almost instantly.

He had zero intention of entering your home and was thankful the kid was out cold so that she couldn’t initiate the suggestion. He had passed her off to you and started to leave.

“Daryl.” You had called quietly. He still wasn’t sure why he had turned back to you so quickly. “That invitation is still open.” You smiled, he grunted. “Thanks for being so sweet with her. Goodnight.”

There had been a heavy feeling in his chest but he had nodded. “G’night.”

Now, you and little Nadia were almost a constant presence when he wasn’t beyond the wall. A presence that he found no longer really irritated him.

He would sit on the porch with the kid, working on his crossbow while Nadia colored or played with toys. He had to find her some of her own to have there because it seemed she and Judith were at odds about Daryl’s attention. He had made the mistake of lifting lil’ asskicker out of her playpen while Nadia was on his heels and the latter had begun to wail.

He had quickly passed Jude off to an equally concerned Michonne and scooped up the kid. “S’wrong? Hey.” Little arms wrapped around his neck and, though he didn’t see the angry pout directed at the other baby, Michonne did. He turned at her chuckle, eyes wide and confused.

Before she could explain, those little arms squeezed harder. “My Dorl.”

From that moment on, he saved time with Judith for emergencies (there were none) and for after Nadia had gone home with you.

“Don’t touch that, Dia.” Daryl huffed, catching her little hand reaching for the knife he had on the porch table. He had spent the morning skinning a few squirrels for Carol to use in a stew but was at that point, working on the tension on his bow.

And babysitting.

You had some inventory to do at the infirmary with Pete. The doctor gave him bad vibes so when you had asked, he’d accepted all too quickly. Even offered to tag along and keep an eye on the kid there. In the end, after you had politely declined, he had reasoned that you were a grown woman and could handle yourself.

“Babysitting, again, hmm?”

Daryl glanced up from his crossbow toward Carol on the top step, Nadia already beaming up at her from the hug around her waist. It lasted all of three seconds before the kid was back to her toys beside Daryl’s boot.

“Mhm.” Was the only answer he offered, one that was mimicked from the little person below him. He didn’t smile but Carol didn’t miss the way his eyes left the weapon to regard Nadia for a moment before returning to the task.

“Where’s Y/N?” She asked, plopping down onto the other chair. She grabbed a toy that had rolled away and handed it back to the child.

“Some inventory shit at the infirmary.” Daryl shrugged, rotating the bow to check his work. Carol made a noise that gave him pause, one he didn’t like. “What?”

“No one’s at the infirmary. I was just there for Mr. Henderson’s blood pressure medication.”

He could feel his heartrate picking up, a sense of foreboding so strong that he could barely think straight. “Pete weren’t there?”

Carol shook her head. “No one.” She sat up straight when Daryl stood, sheathing his knife and placing his crossbow on the railing. “Daryl?”

“Dia, I’m gonna be right back. You’re gonna stay with Carol for a few minutes. Tell me the rules.”

Nadia’s wide eyes narrowed into seriousness. “No bow. No move. Be good. No shit.” It took her a moment to babble through the small list but Daryl ruffled her hair with the smallest of half smiles.

“No shit, Daryl?”

He was already stepping off the porch. “Her mama hears ‘er sayin’ that an’ m’a dead man.”

Carol laughed and shook her head, turning her attention to the little human that was already working up to a cry as Daryl walked out of sight. “Do you like cookies, Nadia?”

He checked the infirmary first. He didn’t doubt Carol, but maybe she had missed a room or something. It was, as Carol had said, empty. “Fuck.” The next most logical place would be your home. He ran the entire way. He’d feel like an absolute fool if you were fine, but he’d cross that bridge later. The door was open, he could see that from the moment he rounded the curb. You had a habit of doing that and he hated it, but who was he to tell you what to do?

“Y/N?” He took your steps two at a time and stopped on the threshold. “Y/N? Are ya here?” No answer. He felt like shit the moment his boot touched the floor inside. He’d never taken you up on an invitation for the dinner you continuously offered him, much less any offer to simply come inside. Now here he was tearing room to room, in your safe space. There were covered pots on the stove and the oven was on, but where were you? “Y/N!” He placed a booted foot on the bottom stair before your voice stunned him frozen.

“Daryl?”

He nearly collapsed in relief.

“What’s wrong? Where’s Nadia? Daryl?”

“She’s fine. She’s with Carol.” He rasped, sheathing his knife when he saw you staring at it. Your hair was wet, your clothes damp. You must have been in the shower. “M’sorry. Carol said ya weren’t at the—just got worried. M’sorry.” His eyes had lowered to the stairs below you but then your bare feet were padding down them to stop directly in front of him. “I’ll, uh—lemme go get ‘er.” He had barely moved before your hand was on his shoulder. To his shock, he didn’t flinch; didn’t even have the urge.

“Are you okay?” You asked, ducking your head to seek out his gaze. He continued to expertly dodge.

“M’fine. Just—I’ll go get Dia.” He stepped away and out of the loose grip you had on him, immediately missing the warmth of your hand. What the hell was wrong with him?

“I was making us dinner.” The words rushed out of you, like you were trying to get them out before he could leave. Daryl looked over his shoulder from the doorway, an eyebrow arched. “Us. Me, Nadia, and—well, you.”

“Me? Why?” He hadn’t meant to sound so unkind, ungrateful, but that was just who he was down deep, wasn’t it? Still, you seemed unbothered, your nervousness born of something else entirely.

“Because Nadia likes you. I like you. We’d like to spend time with you that doesn’t involve me asking for favors or the entire community leering and making assumptions.”

He still hadn’t fully turned, but narrowed his eyes. “Think they ain’t gonna make assumptions when ya have me in your house?”

“Fair point.” You nodded, chuckling. “Honestly, I don’t give a fuck what they think but I worry that you do.” Head tilted, Daryl turned but remained in the doorway. “You seem so private, quiet. I don’t want to do anything that makes you uncomfortable.” Your bottom lip disappeared between your teeth for a moment. “So, will you come? Please?”

As much as he tried, he couldn’t sense a single ounce of dishonesty or ill intent in you. It was certainly there, wasn’t it? No one outside of the group that had grown to like him over months of death and sorrow wanted anything to do with him. So, why you? Why Nadia? “Alright, I’ll go get ‘er an’ be back.” He turned and took a step before you called out again.

“Don’t worry about changing or anything. Just bring you, okay?”

He nodded around the very foreign flutter in his chest, clearing his throat and leaving the house before he could overthink things right there in front of you. He’d be able to do that in abundance on the way to grab the kid.

To say he was confused was the largest of understatements. You were a beautiful woman. Where was Nadia’s father? In that world, the absence usually meant he was either dead or had willingly left, which he couldn’t fathom either. Was the kid the reason all the single men weren’t knocking down your door? That couldn’t be it. Nadia was amazing, all bright smiles and such an innocence that was refreshing in a world as dark it was.

Even if you did have suitors, why were you taking the time to get to know him? He was damn sure nothing special and had nothing to offer you. Daryl growled at himself. He was jumping the gun. You hadn’t expressed any real interest in him. You wanted to have dinner. Aaron and Eric had him over for dinner all the time. It was what friends did. He was your friend after all. He had to be for you to trust him with Nadia. He snorted. Maybe that was all the brat’s doing and you were just along for the ride.

His shoulders were slumped, feet dragging by the time he made it back to his house, already opening his arms in expectation of the bundle of Nadia that would be leaping into them any moment. “Dorl!”

“She was about to strap on your crossbow and come find you herself.” Carol teased from the doorway.

“I was barely gone twenty minutes, kid.” He nodded to Carol and turned back to take Nadia home. “Your mama’s at home makin’ something for supper. Ya hungry?”

“Mmmmhmmmm!” Little legs were swinging while bright eyes watched the street in front of them, her arms loosely around his neck, trusting him to not let her fall. And he would never. Daryl craned his head to look at her, all dark hair and big blue eyes. She could pass as his own kid to anyone who didn’t know better.

Whoa. That train of that was roughly derailed.

Easily done when the top of her head leaned against his temple and she began to hum some tune he didn’t know. It calmed his anxiety enough to not eat him from the inside out before he made it back to your house. Nadia was wiggling to be lowered before he could even get her to the steps. Much to her annoyance (if her little growl and pout were anything to go by), he didn’t place her on her feet until they were on the porch.

The door was still open and, man, he really wanted you to stop doing that.

“Mama!” Nadia squealed, running right into your arms.

“Hi, baby! Did you have fun with Daryl today?” You hefted her onto your hip, your face turned toward hers even though your smile was aimed at the archer.

“We always have fun.” He was close enough to ruffle the kid’s hair without invading your space.

“No shit!” Nadia proclaimed with her arms in the air. You were smiling but your eyebrows shot up toward your hairline. Daryl cleared his throat.

“M’a tell Carol to watch ‘er mouth.”

“Carol. Right.” You chuckled. You started to reach for his arm but must have thought better of it and motioned toward the dining room instead. He found he was disappointed. “Go ahead and sit down wherever. There’s some wine and water already there.”

Daryl liked wine. He’d partake when at Aaron and Eric’s for dinner but here? He wasn’t sure that was such a good idea. The table could seat six but there were three places set, the middle chair holding a booster seat. He didn’t sit, wouldn’t until you did. Instead he noticed how close the glasses of wine were sitting to Nadia’s place and took the liberty of moving each of them to the other side. Not that the kid would bother them but it just felt—right?

“Alright, kiddo. You get to eat first.” You weren’t carrying Nadia anymore but she was right behind you, looking up at the bowl of pasta like a pup that was about to get its kibble. Daryl was already lifting the kid into her seat when you turned from placing the bowl on the table. “Thank you.” You did touch his arm then. “Go ahead and sit. I’ll be right back.”

Nadia had apparently chosen his spot for him, patting the back of the chair to her left. Chewing on the side of his thumb, he glanced toward the kitchen. Wasn’t he supposed to pull your chair out for you or something? Aaron had.

“No, no, Dorl.” Nadia pulled at his elbow, earning a halfhearted scowl before he realized she was trying to get him to stop the anxious habit.

“Sorry.” He mumbled, not sure why he was apologizing when she just went back to dancing and eating once he had dropped his hand. He watched her for a moment, just being a kid, innocent and oblivious to the dangers and heartache that lay in wait just outside of Alexandria’s protective walls. She and you—just two more people for him to mourn in the end. What was he doing there? He had no business being in your lives. If he didn’t lose the two of you, then you would lose him. It was inevitable. It was fate. It was the way the world worked now, tirelessly snuffing out any semblance of light that could give someone like him hope.

And goddamnit, he’d be devastated. He adored your kid and though he couldn’t quite decipher what it was that he felt for you, he knew that if anything happened to you, he’d shatter.

“Daryl?”

“What?” He snapped out of reflex, not fully out of his head before he had realized you were speaking. You flinched, the pasta in the two bowls you were holding bounced but didn’t spill. “M’sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it. Are you okay?” The bowls were placed on the table and a basket of fresh bread that he hadn’t noticed you had already brought out. How long had he been standing there?

“Yeah, uh—yeah, m’fine.” He shifted his weight from foot to foot, suddenly feeling very trapped in the small room. It wasn’t really that small, was it? “M’just—” He didn’t finish before he all but ran to the door, closing it behind him like he really wished you would start doing. He had a cigarette lit within seconds, trembling fingers bringing it to his lips for a long drag.

Pale light from inside cascaded around him as the door opened. You didn’t move any closer, obviously staying near Nadia while the little girl ate. “You okay?”

“Mhm.” Lie.

“Come back inside?” You requested after glancing toward Nadia, finding her eating her pasta elegantly with her fingers. Daryl said nothing, wasn’t even sure he could, but he flicked his cigarette toward the sidewalk and stood, walking past you with but a beat of hesitance.

Despite Nadia’s excitement at his return, he remained quiet, but offered the kid a ghost of a smile when she offered a bite of her own food. Disgruntled at his refusal, she wore her own version of a scowl and continued to eat. You had taken your seat, giving the bread basket a tiny shove toward the archer.

“Thanks.” He mumbled. He wasn’t sure how to act around you anymore. Staring at his food, he questioned whether the way he usually ate might disgust you. It was never something he actively thought about. He grew up in a home where he snatched what he could get and ate it quickly before someone could take it or reprimand him for it. It was nearly the same now that the world had ended. Thankful for any scrap of food, but quick to make sure it was gone before someone came ready to fight for it.

“If you think any louder, I might be able to hear it.”

Daryl glanced up, unable to meet your eyes. You were swirling the wine around in the glass with your gaze settled on him. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be. It’s just dinner, Daryl.”

With a barely there nod, he picked up his fork and began to eat, slowly and carefully, not noticing the way you watched him with a quizzical expression.

Nadia was having a hard time keeping her head up by the time dinner was finished, her little eyes closing before snapping open with a jerk of her head.

“Time for bed.” You announced, attempting to wipe her face around languid movements of annoyance. “Come on, baby.” Lifting her from the chair, you tilted your head when she leaned her upper body back toward Daryl, reaching out with lazy, grabby hands.

“Dorl night night.”

Halfway out of his seat, he froze. “Think ya should, uh—your mama should handle this’un, Dia.” She didn’t seem to have it in her to argue, flopping onto your shoulder. You managed to hold up a finger, asking him to wait while you put Nadia to bed. He did, but busied himself gathering the dishes, taking them to the sink, and rinsing them out as Carol had trained him to do. “Wow, my very own human dishwasher. Can I keep you?”

Daryl felt the heat rise in his face, traveling down to his chest and up to the tips of his ears. “Stop.” God, you were just as bad as Carol.

“Daryl.”

Oh, boy. Your tone had gone from playful to serious in two seconds flat. His stomach was in knots but he dared not turn around and rinsed the same bowl at least three times. “Hmm?”

“I’d like to see, uh—I’d like it if you'd come around more often. Tonight was—it was nice.”

And there it was. The one thing that had caused him so much inner turmoil now confirmed. You were interested and, for the life of him, he couldn’t understand why. When he finally managed to get his tongue to work, the words that spilled out were nothing like the ones running through his head and he regretted them immediately. “Where’s Dia’s daddy?” Christ, Dixon. “M’sorry.” He tried to backpedal, finally turning toward you and leaning back against the sink with a white-knuckled grip against the edge of the countertop. “Ain’t my business.”

“Gone. I don’t really give a fuck where.” You shrugged, so nonchalantly that he had to look at you. “He didn’t want her. Nearly got himself killed finding pills for me to take. I refused, he left. But I have her and I hope he’s a walker.” Your gaze was fond but serious, and he found not a single trace of annoyance or anger. “She’s never really liked men. Even Aaron and Eric had to coax her inside for dinner with a stale candybar.” You laughed at the memory, and Daryl realized he could listen to that sound for the rest of his life. “But then you. She wasn’t afraid, not for a single second.”

“It was the ‘possum.” He shrugged, shyly ducking his head for only a moment but looking back up through his fringe when you laughed again.

“Okay, we can go with that.” You lifted yourself up onto the island, kicking your legs, reminding him of Nadia. “Doesn’t really explain why she stuck to you like glue every moment since then, though. Dorl this and Dorl that. I’m not complaining. You’re good for her.” Daryl scoffed, ducking his head once more. “You are, Daryl. And I think she might be good for you too.”

“She’s a kid. Don’t know no better.” He shrugged, the urge to run becoming more and more prevalent. He didn’t belong there. It wasn’t his family. Nadia wasn’t his kid and you weren’t his. God, he wished you were.

You hummed, holding back something. “I had fun tonight, but when you come back, don't worry so much about what I think, okay?” The way he tried to eat more slowly?

“Yeah, okay. Was nice. Thanks, uh—thanks for havin’ me.” The archer made the choice to pass you and head for the door. Your bare feet hit the floor just behind him. “I’ll see ya ‘round. Lemme know if ya need someone to watch Dia.” Why the hell did he offer that?

“I will. Thank you.” The smile you gave him was almost sad. Maybe disappointed? “Goodnight, Daryl.”

“Yeah. Night.” He crossed the threshold but turned back, keeping his head low. “Keep your door shut.” There was no time for you to answer before he was jogging down your steps, barely slowing his stride all the way home. All the lights were off when he arrived and he couldn’t be more grateful to slip in and down to his room to berate himself properly until he was finally able to fall asleep.

Logically, he should have avoided you since that night, but Daryl never claimed to be the brightest crayon in the box. He absolutely did not look for reasons to go to your house, satisfied to find the door closed each and every time. If he saw you carrying something, he’d jog over to take it from you, no matter how big or small. He responded by meeting Nadia in the middle each time she called for him, even if he was covered in dark blood and brain matter.

“Dorl smell ick.” She would say.

He was down bad and though he would deny it until his last breath with the age old line of we’re just friends, Carol was smarter than that.

“Daryl, you and I are friends. You’re sweet on that girl and you can fight me if you try to claim any different.” She stirred at the brownie batter, intermittently swatting away his hand when he tried to sneak a taste. “You should just tell her how you feel.”

“Stop actin’ like ya know ev’rythin’.” He snapped with no real heat.

“Okay, fine. I know nothing.” She stated coolly, spreading the mixture into a baking pan. “Except that Spencer has been spending an awful lot of time around her and Nadia.”

Well, that had his attention. “What? When?” He hopped off the countertop and was quickly standing just beside Carol, moving accordingly so that she could continue her baking.

“Usually when you’re out. I think you intimidate him.”

“Damn well better intimidate him.”

“Why? You’re ‘just friends,’ remember?” Daryl curled his lip at her air quotes, turning on a heel to head toward the door.

“Shuddup.”

He hadn’t been focused, lingering on what Carol had told him that morning. Worrying that Spencer was putting the moves on you that very moment he wasn’t there to do anything about it. What if he’d missed his chance? He growled, trying to take more of his own weight off of Aaron but his leg burned and ached.

“Ain’t that bad.” He tried to brush it off, but it was, in fact, that bad. He hadn’t seen the damn trap, the walker backing him right onto it. He was lucky the dead bastard didn’t take a chunk of him when he went down, but Aaron was quick. Had Daryl been alone, he’d likely be snarling and growling on the ground with his calf still locked within that metal.

“Keep telling yourself that and maybe your stubbornness will keep you on your feet until we can make it back.” The other man huffed. “First Eric, now you. I swear, I’m cursed.” Daryl groaned but couldn’t disagree.

Christ. The archer’s head was fucked. He couldn’t focus with images of you running rampant at the forefront of his mind. The way you would smile when you saw him; how you’d laugh when he’d huff at Dia for calling him Dorl; you’d have him for dinner a few times a week and it was less and less awkward.

He was so fucked.

“Open the gate!” Aaron called urgently. Daryl hadn’t even been paying attention but maybe zoning out was what brought him that far with such an injury. The toe of his boot was dragging, his leg both numb and throbbing in a way he couldn’t seem to understand was even possible. Sasha was yelling, but he couldn’t understand what she was saying. He was too busy trying to look over his shoulder at the steady crimson trail that followed them. Would walkers follow it right to the gates? “Jesus, okay. I’m going to get help to carry you to the infirmary.”

“Fuck Pete. Gimme Y/N or just take me home.” Daryl slurred, his head falling back against the metal just inside the gates. He was fading, tired and smothered by a dark cloud that was creeping into the edges of his vision and mind. He knew he wouldn’t die from this, but damn, did it still suck.

“Dorl! Mama, Dorl boo-boo!”

Tiny, warm hands were on his face. He was cold, didn’t even realize it. Big blue eyes were hovering right in front of his face, a little mouth between chubby cheeks speaking with an urgency that made him want to scoop her up and soothe the worry. “Dia.” He breathed, his mind finally catching up, though he wasn’t sure for how long.

“Nada kiss boo-boo.”

Daryl chuckled breathlessly but pulled the little girl against his chest. “Nah, baby girl, don’t kiss that boo-boo. S’gross.” Big crocodile tears were forming and falling, and his heart ached. His little girl was never supposed to cry, never supposed to even be sad. “M’okay. Your mama’s gonna make it all better, you’ll see.”

“Mama, Dorl got big boo-boo.”

“I see that, baby. Can you move so mommy can take a look?” You were there, your voice a balm to the pain that was slowly fading.

“She’s alright.” Daryl shifted Nadia to his side, letting her hold on with her head on his filthy chest. You’d have to give her a bath later and somehow, he had the energy to feel bad about that.

“Jesus, Daryl, what did you do?” You were cutting the lower part of his pant leg, right there on the street, but he didn’t have it in him to see who might be watching. He muttered bear trap but didn’t really recall it being his voice. Was it even him?

The child holding to him made a noise when the wound was revealed, jagged punctures that still steadily bled and she shouldn’t be seeing that. Why wasn’t someone taking her away? “Ssh. S’okay, Dia. Just look at me—can ya hum that song ya always do when we take ya home?” A tiny sniffle but then a little tune in his ear.

“What happened? He okay?” Rick.

“Daryl!” Ah, Carol. Good.

“Hey, take her, would ya? Don’t need to be here.” He was gentle if not weak when he tried to hand off Nadia, kissing one of her little hands when he finally peeled them away from his neck. “M’a be okay, Dia.” She cried. Even as Carol promised her cookies and brownies, she cried and his heart ached more than his leg. He barely caught the word disinfect before the hellfire in his leg struck him like a hammer to the head and he knew no more.

“S’not that big’a deal. I can take care’a myself at home.” Daryl grimaced and watched you moving things around in your living room. You disappeared and returned several moments later with pillows and blankets.

“I know you can, but I also know you’re stubborn as a mule and you’ll try to go out of those gates behind Aaron within a day.” He barely opened his mouth before you held up an authoritative finger. “Don’t lie to me, Daryl Dixon. And don’t pretend I don’t know at least a little by now.”

“Dorl!”

Before he could process her voice, the archer had a lapful of toddler. It was hazy but he could remember how he felt at the gate, the protective instinct, the absolute knowledge that Nadia was his no matter how untrue it was. He couldn’t seem to shake it.

“Hey, Dia.”

“Be careful of his boo-boo, sweetie.” You admonished in the most gentle tone while propping Daryl’s leg up on a pillow. “He’s going to stay with us for a few days so I can keep an eye on him.”

“Why?” Came the innocent reply.

“Because Daryl is naughty and doesn’t like to listen when he’s told he can’t do something. Like you with Miss Carol’s cookies.”

Nadia gasped dramatically and turned those big blues to Daryl. “Dorl takes cookies.”

Glancing at you, expression bland, he nodded. “Yeah, I take the cookies.”

“So he has to stay right here on this couch unless mommy is helping him, okay? Can you be my junior nurse and make sure he stays put?”

“That ain’t fair.” Daryl objected with an indignant pout.

“Why? Because you know it’ll work?”

Daryl grunted and crossed his arms. He was in for a long few days.

A week later, the stitches were out but there was residual swelling that was hindering healing. Nothing to worry about, you had told him.

“Why ain’t Ken wearin’ no clothes?” Daryl was concerned to be ‘playing Barbies’ when Barbie wore a bathing suit and Ken was naked as the day he was—assembled? So far he’d been able to avoid dialogue and just bounce the doll around with facial expressions that kept the toddler occupied. “Seems a lil’ fucked up.”

“You try finding doll clothes nowadays.” There was laughter in your voice and tenderness in your touch while you cleaned the wound and changed the dressings. Only a couple more days of that.

“Maybe I will.” The archer mused, standing the doll on top of Nadia’s head, keeping it there with his finger on the top. Her little arms could only reach the legs, facing reddening and scrunching with giggles.

“Time to pick up your toys. Daryl needs to rest and you, missy, need to get to bed.”

“Noooooo.”

“Don’t sass your mama.” Daryl dropped the doll in favor of patting the kid on the head. “G’on now.” The archer dropped an arm outward, fully expecting the hug that was incoming. “Night, kid.”

“Nigh’ night’, dada.”

It was at that moment Daryl Dixon completely forgot how to breathe. His eyes were already on yours before the kid decided to drop that bomb and skip away to brush her teeth like she hadn’t just turned his world upside down.

“M’sorry. M’so sorry. I don’t—she didn’t—”

“I’m just—” you interrupted, backing toward the doorway, “I need to put her to bed.” You stumbled out of the room as if he were chasing you.

He wasn’t sure he could move if he tried. His heart was in his nose, his stomach in his ass, and his lungs were plaited around his spine. Why would the kid call him dada? It made no sense. A couple of months wasn’t long enough for anything like that. Right? Fuck, he needed to talk to Carol. His brain was malfunctioning. He couldn’t process this.

Throwing off the blankets, Daryl sat up, levering to his feet. He still had a limp but it was easier now. Shuffling to the exit, he stopped, staring at the handle of the closed door. You’d been doing that now, hadn’t you? He said something once and you had listened.

“So you’re just gonna run away after that, is that it?”

The archer spun so fast that he lost his balance, righting himself with a hand on the wall. “It ain’t—I was—just needed to talk to Carol.” He admitted. His shirt was damp and he was certain he would vomit.

“She didn’t mean anything by it, Daryl. I’ll talk to her.” You were wringing your hands, your chin wobbling.

Don’t cry. Please don’t cry. He had the sudden desire to hug you but didn’t dare move. Aside from casual touches, bumping shoulders in jest, and of course the occasional wound treatment, the two of you had never physically interacted. Not that he hadn’t thought about it. Wow, had he thought about it. “I know she didn’t mean nothin’.” Ouch. Somehow that revelation was worse.

“She loves you, Daryl. I’ll talk to her, I promise. Please don’t walk out on her. On��on me.”

He likely looked like an idiot hobbling half the distance to where you stood. “Ain’t goin’ nowhere.” When you nodded and dropped your head, he dared another unsteady step. “M’a stay as long as ya want me here. You an’ Dia.” With one hand, he touched your shoulder and left the decision up to you. You needed no further prompting to step into his arms. For a moment, nothing else mattered. But then you were stepping back.

“Okay.” You nodded, turning your head to wipe away a tear you thought he didn’t already notice. “I like having you here.” He returned the nod silently.

Nothing else was said. Daryl went back to the couch, you went to get ready for bed. The night went on with both you and Daryl feeling more alone than ever.

“She really called you dada?” Carol asked in an excited whisper, the wide grin on her face in direct contrast to Daryl’s frown. “That’s a good thing, right?”

“No!” He shot back immediately, looking over his shoulder at the little girl playing on the living room floor. They had somehow even managed to get her to sit next to Judith’s playpen, so long as Daryl didn’t touch Lil’ Asskicker, peace remained. “I mean, yeah. Fuck, I dunno what I mean, Carol.”

“Daryl.” The seriousness in her tone brought his gaze to hers, flinching when he found her leaning on her elbows much closer than she had been just a moment ago. “I’m gonna ask you a question and I want you to answer me honestly.”

“Ain’t never lied to ya.”

“Okay.” Her eyes, just as blue as his own, narrowed. “Do you love that little girl?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I do.” It was true. It was so different from how he loved Judith but yet completely the same. He would give anything for her to have been his, to have been there while you carried her. He wanted to spit on the man that tried to force you to end it. He couldn’t imagine a world without you and little Nadia anymore. It was as if the two of you were the missing pieces that could give him a chance to be whole.

“And Y/N?”

“What?”

“Do you love Y/N?” Carol leaned back a little, her gaze no less intense.

“S’a lil’ more—I, uh—”

“I said STOP!”

Daryl was on his feet instantly at the sound of your voice, running outside. His limp was less profound and didn’t hinder him from descending the steps to see you across the street with your arm in Spencer’s grasp. You were likely on your way to collect Nadia.

“Come on, Y/N. You’re beautiful, and I’ve seen the way you look at me.” Spencer pulled you toward him.

“You’re delusional!”

“Stop being such a prude. You’ve got a kid. You think you got any other options out there?”

“Yeah! She does!” Daryl’s fist had already connected before the other man had even realized he was approaching. The archer stepped in front of you and stayed there, coiled to attack but holding steady until he was given a reason.

“You?” Spencer spat, literally, a glob of blood and saliva landing next to Daryl’s boot. “The dirty redneck everyone’s afraid of? That’s laughable.”

Daryl started to move until he felt the smallest tug on his jeans. Nadia was looking up at him, equal parts curious and afraid.

“Dada mad?”

Your arms encircled his stomach with whispers of he’s not worth it repeated over his shoulder. “Get the fuck outta here an’ don’t come near my girls again.” The archer waited, arching a brow when Spencer hesitated.

“You heard him.” Rick stepped up to Daryl’s left, Michonne and Carol on this right. “Best be going now.” Spitting again, the man curled his lip and scrambled to his feet, stomping off toward his mother’s home. “Well, that’s gonna be a problem.”

“I’ll go talk to Deanna.” Maggie offered, nodding at Rick but stopping to squeeze Daryl’s arm on her way by. What the fuck? Had everyone noticed?

“We should make ourselves scarce.” Michonne suggested with a knowing grin.

Once they were all out of sight, Daryl deflated, one hand falling to the top of Nadia’s head. “Ain’t angry, Dia.” She sniffled and seemed to only hug his leg tighter. When it was clear he couldn’t turn with the added weight to his injured leg, you stepped around in front of him.

“Your girls?” You asked, expression so terrifyingly unreadable.

“I just—he needed to leave an’ I didn’t want him to think he could come back ‘round.” His bottom lip was instantly being gnawed between his teeth. “Needed to make sure ya were okay.”

“So, we’re not your girls?” There was definitely disappointment there. You were wringing your hands again before reaching toward Nadia.

“I mean, if ya—yeah.” Daryl swallowed hard. “Yeah, you’re my girls. Have been for a while. M’just a idiot an’ I was—I’m scared. Don’t wanna be like my old man.”

You hummed, stepping into him to brush back the fringe across his eyes. “You haven’t told me anything about your parents, but I’m willing to listen. I wanna know everything about you.”

“Me too—’bout you, I mean. ‘Bout Dia.” He was reaching for your face, leaning in just as you did. His lips barely brushed yours before there came another tug at his jeans again.

“Home, dada.”

You laughed while Daryl just looked stricken and confused. “You heard her, Daryl. Let’s go home and figure this out.”

One Year Later

“Daddy! Lookit picture!!”

Daryl looked up from the mess of rabbits he was skinning on the porch, blowing upward to move some of the hair from his eyes. The almost four year old was sprinting down the street from the Grimes’ house, a piece of paper waving in her grip above her head. He waved to Michonne who had been watching Nadia make it back safely. “Whatcha got there, Dia?” She was grinning from ear to ear when she presented it to him, holding it out in front of her because ew no when he reached for it with bloody fingers.

There were three stick figures. One was obviously him if the crazy hair and scribbled attempt at a crossbow were anything to go by. A small figure was at his side, dark hair and a big smile: Nadia. And then there was you. Daryl snorted. You were a stick figure with a circle drawn around the middle.

“Your mama’s gonna ‘preciate that, kid.”

“Appreciate what?” You stepped out with two glasses of water, placing them on the table and resting your hand on your swollen belly. Nadia proudly displayed the drawing and received a big smile and mhm, so pretty from you while Daryl snickered into his shoulder. “Go put it on the fridge, baby, and wash your hands. Supper’s nearly ready.”

“Okay, mama!” And off she went in a blur.

“Not funny, Dixon.” You dug your bare toes into his lower back until he yelped.

“S’a little funny.” He wiped his knife across his jeans.

“About as funny as you cleaning these rabbits on my front porch.” He ducked his head sheepishly when he turned to watch you lower into your chair.

“I’ll clean it up, Sunshine. Don’t get all uppity ‘bout it.” Rising from his perch, he gathered the meat onto a parchment you had given him and wrapped it, leaving the bones and fur to handle later. “Dia! C’mere!” Moving at inhuman speed, she was looking up at him from the doorway the next second. Daryl jerked his chin toward a bag on the table beside his water glass. “Broughtcha somethin’ back.”

You leaned forward with curiosity and watched your daughter pull out the contents of the bag, barely catching a glimpse of the different colors before Nadia hugged Daryl’s leg and disappeared back inside with squeals of delight echoing in her wake.

“What did you bring her?”

Daryl smirked. “Told ya I’d find clothes for them dolls.”

#murda writes #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #the walking dead #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon x you #step dad!daryl #dad!daryl #daryl x female reader #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl dixon the walking dead #daryl dixon twd #Spotify

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thepinkdreamganjaqueen · 3 months ago

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Subway Obsessions Arthur's POV ch.1

Arthur Fleck POV x Fem!Reader

Masterlist 🩷

Summary: From Arthurs POV. It's just another night on the subway. A typical ride on the Gotham train on his way home from a long day of running errands and away from his tedious depressive thoughts. Perhaps he would catch a glimpse of the woman he could only seem to catch in passing, the woman he’d been secretly watching, following, fantasizing about nightly. Perhaps the unending misery that is the city above had him thinking of change, of something new to obsess about. Something to draw his mind away from the blistering and the mundane. Would he finally get the courage to talk to her?

Warnings: SMUT, NSFW, 18+, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, public exhibitionism, subway cruising, swearing, stalking, obsession, mentions of violence, fem!reader, romantic smut, fluff

A/N: Beginning to a series? Who knows. May add things later. First fic, btw! I'm hyper fixated now, so expect more. This is something I've been mulling around with for a while. I've done this story from both the readers' POV and from Arthur's because I can't get enough!! So, make sure to read both! I loved writing from this perspective so much, btw! Literally! Send ideas, edits, etc. my way!! And be nice please. The first chapter is mostly fluff/ descriptive plot/character building. Cheers! Enjoyyy!

Word Count: 3.9k

SERIES: Subway Obsessions

CHAPTER 1: Chance Meeting

Today was another mundane day. Arthur had been out earlier in the evening running errands for his mother. Picking up T.V. dinners at the grocer and medications for him and her at the local pharmacy. Still, getting around the city was a chore in of itself. He figured the subway would be the easiest and quickest way home. It was nearing 10 o'clock pm. His mother would be worried, and it was getting late. He knew the dangers of roaming Gotham city at these hours. His mother used to say, "That's when the colorful people come out." A way to make something serious, completely unserious. Still, he knew the dangers and tried as hard as he might to keep his wits about him. Easier said than done when you're a man with a neurological disorder, apparently so many people hate you for. He wished they’d understood or tried at least.

He always pondered why the people of Gotham were so... well so mean! Everyone he encountered save for the very, very few were just assholes to him. Perhaps it was the political climate? With Thomas Wayne running for government placement, it probably didn't help. Make the rich richer and the poor poorer he thought. Perhaps it was the state of the city itself, the infrastructure, the lack of resources. He sure has been on the wrong end of that stick one too many times. "Good people suffer Happy," his mother would say. But he never understood why it had to be that way. Life was circumstantial. He didn't ask to have what little he did. He didn't even ask to be born and thought life was the real joke.

It doesn't have to make sense to be funny! He jested internally. Because its fucked! And there lies the comedy for those broken enough to see, yet perhaps healed enough to laugh at the pain. Because, what else can you do?

His mind wandered through these endless fields of thought when a train car stopped in front of him. He had been standing on the platform disassociating for some time. Perhaps he even forgot where he was for a moment, ruminating over the wrongs of life and playing them out differently in his head. The things he didn't say or do, what he could have done differently...

The brisk hiss and click of the air brakes as they screeched to a halt brought him back to reality. He blinked a couple of times, waiting for the doors to open. As he did, a disheveled looking figure pushed past him while exiting. He burst out in a cry of compulsory laughter and stepped on the train. He was in the last car and immediately noticed it was bearable, as bearable as riding the subway can be he postulated.

In his search for a seat towards the end of the train car, he noticed a large putrid looking spill in the back. It melted off the seats and slid across the aisle. It looked sticky. Best to avoid that then, he thought. He opted for a bench seat away from the offending area and sat down, crossing one leg over the other and leaning back, arm outstretched on the head of the seat next to him. No one was in this car except for him. He found a moment of solace and drank it in, filling himself with the noiseless satisfaction of silence and peace when a warbled voice broke over the loud speaker. He couldn't really understand it, but the semblance of words spoke what sounded like “platform 19”. It was all he could understand through the robot whine. He felt anticipation rising within him.

At approximately 10:15 p.m., the doors of the subway train broke open with a gush of cold night air. At the other end of the subway, he watched as a woman stepped onto the train like a fawn. Scared and unsure of where to go or sit. She was bright and colorful; she immediately caught his eye. Was this what his mother meant by colorful people? He thought to himself. He quickly realized it was her! The girl he had fantasized about daily and nightly, hoping to catch her on the train but only seeming to in his thoughts and dreams, remembering her face, her scent that penetrated her surroundings. He had tirelessly followed her the first time he saw her. She was the only person to smile at him that day. He had to know more and had to know why. But she wasn't always on the same train. He always hoped to run into her and had almost given up, thinking she must have been some sort of hallucination he created for himself to lessen his own pain. But there she was.

She looked different tonight. She looked like a predator, displaying colors brightly in the face of possible danger. She was a force; he felt the atmosphere change as soon as she stepped in through the steel doors, a thickness lifted in the air and he could feel himself tense in his seat. His clothes were suddenly uncomfortable, his collar too tight, his hands, sweaty. She always looked beautiful when he saw her, she always looked content and comfortable. Hair in a messy bun with strands falling about her face swayed by the wind that surged through the train car. Sweats he could still make out her figure through, leaving him wanting more every time, it drove him crazy! But today she looked like she was straight out of the films on the TV! He thought to himself. She made him think of glamour, it's the only word that truly fit, like the old films he would watch with his mom. Wow! Was she a sight to see, a cool pristine liquid flowing over his burning eyes. A soothing image of pure proclivity. An unknown sense of calm swept over him.

He watched, frozen, as she cautiously observed the train car searching for a seat. He looked at her from top to bottom. She was significantly smaller than him, petite, probably around five feet three he gauged. Fuzzy black boots, blue jeans tightly hugging her figure, full thick thighs, his mouth began to water - he thirsted for her, wanted to drink in her every essence. He felt a lump in his throat as he tried to choke it down. A tight black shirt under a small cropped pink sweater with red hearts all over. It perfectly displayed her large soft breasts. Brown curls bounced about her shoulders as she walked, strands of them fell daintily on her face and cheeks. As she walked, she would flick it away with a quick movement of her head. The way she did that, moving her hair out of her face without using her hands. It made him tingle in all the right places. His mind raced. What else can she do without using her hands? he thought.

There was something pink in her hair too, he saw as she walked past. She didn't notice him at first. Most people don't he thought to himself. Although this thought disappointed him, he didn't fault her for it. He had the urge to make her notice him. To be a presence and to be objectified by her, he only wished he could hold that kind of power.

As she passed, the scent he had come to know as her- wafted past him, he sucked in through his teeth sharply. It was heaven on earth. Stimulating. He would follow that scent hoping to find her, mercilessly searching. It was like a drug, an aphrodisiac, and he felt his cock spasm. She was eyeing the seats towards the back where that odd spill was. A butterfly he thought. It's a pink butterfly in her hair. He immediately felt like a school boy again, fawning over and wanting to get the attention of the pretty girl and for her to return it.

"This one's fine!" He blurted out, not really knowing what he was saying. She turned around, her beauty, dark, striking, and he found it hard to speak again. He stammered and was able to get the lump out of his throat to follow up with; "I don't know what that is back there but these are not so bad" his voice felt cracked but he tried to contain his composure, he didn't want to scare her off. He was the only other person on the train, and it must have jolted her since she didn't see him at first. Plus, she probably thinks I'm some kind of creep or weirdo, he thought to himself. There was some truth behind those thoughts, but that didn't make him a bad person, he thought. All day, he spends trying to have a nice day to make himself and others happy, trying to think good thoughts, trying not to let the bad influence the good he can salvage.

"Oh, thank you!" A sweet voice broke the monotony of thought, and immediately he was flung back into the present. She made her way to the seats laid out in front of him. A row of sideways seating. He watched her sit gracefully, slowly, like a calculated ballet dancer, he thought. Every move fluid, every move perfect. When she sat, she arranged her things on the seat next to her and settled in. He wondered to himself where she was going. Why she had so many bags, why she was riding the subway so late, as a woman, she should be terrified. This city is not safe, especially for someone as strikingly beautiful as her. She was like a beacon of light, too bright to stare at, but he was drawn to her like a moth to a flame and simply couldn't resist the allure.

She actually sat next to me! He thought. Only one seat away, actually next to me. But that wasn't all. She saw him, noticed him, heard him, and listened to him. The weight of these simple gestures made his hands sweaty, and he tried his best to remain aloof. The doors of the train opened on the other side of her, and a breeze blew her hair behind her and over her face. He couldn't help but see her, every aspect of her. He studied her every move, every inch of her body. He wanted this to last, for this image to never leave his mind.

The wind that blew past her carried on it her scent. He was suddenly overwhelmed by the sweet alluring scent of peach? No. Some kind of berry? No. When the doors shut and the pressure created another breeze, the scent wafted to him again. Taking it all in, he identified the smell as watermelon. Some kind of fruity smell filled his senses with the feeling of euphoria. It was intoxicating. He wondered what it would be like to be pressed up against her, inhaling her deeply. He looked down with a deep sigh when he looked back over. She was moving a strand of hair out of her face and caught a glimpse of her looking at him as well. Her cheeks flushed instantly, and she broke her gaze. She was fire, burning too hot near him, and he wanted so badly to play, to burn himself, engulf himself in her flames breathlessly.

He tried to come up with something to say, anything. How do I talk to her? What would I even say without sounding stupid? He thought. He watched on as the florescent lights above her flickered. It lit up parts of her he hadn't seen upon first observation. Glitter decorated her collar bones and cheeks. Her sweater was slightly unzipped. He could see the peeking out of her cleavage. Sparkling with glitter, so pretty, she reminded him of the stars of the night sky. Unmistakably beautiful, yet so. Far. Away. He had been working up the courage to say something to her, to hear her voice again, he didn't want to forget it. A symphony replayed in his mind. He needed more.

He stumbled over his words, "Sorry, I-it's hard for me to talk, I meant to introduce myself. I'm Arthur, " he said in the kindest, most unassuming voice he could muster. She looked up and locked eyes. They burned his insides like hot coals. He anticipated her reply, not knowing if she would even engage in conversation with him. "No worries!" She spoke in a reassuring way that made his heart flutter. "I know how it can be, trust me!" She sounded genuine. Kind. There was something underneath her voice, though he couldn't quite conceptualize. Fear? Doubt, maybe? He wanted to take it away.

"I'm Y/N. Nice to meet you, Arthur!" Again, her voice beaming so light and so lifting. She reached out to shake his hand that he had offered. Her hand was small and was practically swallowed by his. Her fingers were warm, sweeping softly over his palm as she grasped his hand in hers. It's a simple thing, he thought. It was a small touch, but it was enough to make him crumble inside. She felt so nice! "Y/N," he said. "I like that." He lamented. Such a beautiful name. But everything about her was beautiful. Her presence was wholesome and welcoming. Is this real? he pondered. Thoughts took over again, and not knowing how to continue the conversation, they sat in silence for a moment as he worked up the courage to speak again.

Moments passed that felt like a lifetime, but he was content in her presence, soaking up her aura. As he went to ask her a question, she moved to speak as well. Catching each other off guard, Arthur profusely apologized "No it's okay, go ahead," he said, not wanting to interrupt her. "No, no, that's okay, what were you going to say?" She insisted back. Her voice was small and mousey, she seemed so shy. Why would she be? She screams confidence and power. Even in her apprehensive movements, she seems calculated, he thought to himself. He stole another glance at her. Her eyes sparkled reminiscent of a smokey quartz gem in a bracelet he once saw in a shop window. A thought of her adorned in nothing but gems crossed his mind. He tried to hold onto the image before it left his mind's eye. He felt a flush in his cheeks again, and his eyes darted. He couldn't look her in the eyes for too long. It made him nervous. He was working up the urge to speak again, to say something, anything.

He broke the silence and asked, "So what brings you to ride the subway so late at night? Aren't you scared?" He uttered jokingly. After saying it, he felt immediate stupidity. Why would I say that? He thought and started an inner spiral. As if seeing his reaction to his own question and wanting to ease the tension building within him, Y/N said, " Well, I work at the Gotham shelter overnight. So, having to ride the train every night, I guess, I've gotten used to it for the most part. But, yeah, I do get scared sometimes. The city can be super sketchy, and I've been attacked twice already, so I had to buy mace and stuff to try and protect myself."

The words spilled out of her mouth like a wave of glass, he couldn't fathom her ever saying this of all things, it was jolting for him and triggered something within him he had tried so long to hide. His mind raced. He felt anger and rage well up inside of him it hardened his sternum and burned in his throat. He became stiff but was unaware. The spiraling began to start again. This city was ruining people, hurting people, good people! He thought. She helps people, and then people hurt her?! Pieces of shit! He screamed internally. The emotions he felt were at war within himself. He felt rage for her pain and suffering at the hands of this city's denizens, he felt fear for her life knowing she rides the train every night, he felt regret, why couldn't he have been there to help, to do something? He all but took the pain on as his own, it soaked through to his core. He too had been at the mercy of some of the worst people he has ever had the displeasure of encountering in this god forsaken city, he too had been attacked, hurt, mercilessly tortured by these fucking terrible people.

Lost in his train of thought and looking straight ahead he couldn't help but sternly say in sympathy "These people are just fucking terrible!" She must have noticed his change in demeanor at this declaration. He suddenly felt a warmth cross his leg, and lightly squeeze. It was smooth and comforting. His concentration broke completely. Pulled out of a trance by her as if the thoughts were just zapped out of his brain. His eyes quickly darted back to her where they followed the length of her shoulder, to her arm, and from her arm to her hand that rested upon his thigh. He felt the muscles in his face relax, his shoulders dropped, jaw unclenched. The sheer power she had over him he thought. The warmth emanating off of her palm was like security, a blanket of nostalgia. He couldn't remember the last time he felt what felt like love, like connection, or attachment. He couldn't help but see flashes of images in his mind, her moving her hand closer to his cock which had began to throb. He tried to brush away those thoughts but they plagued him. She was touching him. Something that never happens to him. He immediately craved her touch, he wanted more, he wondered how that would be possible. He thought this couldn't be real. Not this time.

Once again, breaking his thought pattern she spoke, and he gave her his full attention. "Yeah, but I'm ok now!" She said in a reassuring tone. Her voice, like petals on velvet. Soft, gentle. "You're here now! And so, I feel safe." Safe? He thought, with me? Like she trusts me? He could feel the negative thoughts start to brim to the surface of his mind but quelled them by responding instead. He needed clarification. The words she spoke just didn't make sense to him. He couldn't see why she would or should trust him, although he so badly wanted her to, for this to be true, he needed it to be. He suddenly felt the urge to never leave her, to always be by her side. He would watch, he would follow, and he would do anything for her.

He only imagined what it would be like to know her both romantically and intimately. "You feel safe? W-with me?" He spoke haphazardly, unsure of the answer he wanted to hear, hoped to hear. "I do." She looked into his eyes sincerely. His heart leapt into his throat; he couldn't breathe. She was so fucking beautiful. He wanted to grab her, to feel her against him. He shifted his legs at the thought. Looking up at him like that weakened him in so many ways. Most noticeably, in his pants, where he tried to conceal the results of his dirty thoughts. "Then I will protect you Y/N" he proclaimed proudly. A shy smile touched her lips and she continued to gaze into his eyes. He smiled back. I make her feel safe, he thought. She is comfortable in my presence. No one even bothers talking to me, no one ever wants to talk to me. He had the urge to speak once more but couldn't find the words.

Before either of them could speak, the subway speaker rang out once again in that barely audible robotic toned voice announcing the next stop as the harsh brakes squeaked heavily to a stop. As if anticipating her to leave, he just as quickly stood up and offered out his hand. "Thank you," her voice sang. She turned to face him, her small stature looking up at him once more. He held his composure but felt the heat well up inside him. "It was so nice having someone to ride the train with tonight for a change!" She cheerfully exclaimed with a smile.

She had grabbed her things and had let go of his hand. What sweet bliss it was for the few seconds he had held it. Her fingers, so dainty and soft. The train screeched to a halt, and he instinctively grabbed her hand again and put his other hand at the small of her back to steady her. He could feel the soft curve of her spine. He slowly moved a pinky closer, hoping she wouldn't notice, tracing the line of her jeans as he did, feeling the line of her panty through the fabric. He quickly pulled away as she exited the train. He had held back. He wanted to do so much more. He wanted to turn her around, grab her face and kiss her, shove her onto the subway seats, and have his way with her, make her cry out. He wanted her to miss work. He wanted her to quit! He wanted her all to himself.

This moment was too perfect. It felt like a dream. As she stepped off the platform and began to walk away, he stood as the doors shut, helplessly watching her as she slowly walked. Unable to stop time. As the train brakes hissed and cranked, he saw her stop and turn around. She had stepped to the doors, but it was too late. He watched on as her figure shrunk into the distance as the train traveled once again into the dark tunnel. He waved. He would see her again. He would make sure of that. Platform 19. He thought, I'll remember this time.

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usmsgutterson · 1 year ago

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Hello!I saw your requests are open and I'm so excited because you're such a good writer!! If it's alright, could you please write "If we have to leave our bed today, I will kill the resin we have to" hugs from your prompt list with Kaz x Reader? Maybe when he's a little older maybe late 20's and is a lot more comfy with touch (still has bad days/moments of complete touch aversion of course) but maybe he's slightly touch starved if anything in this fic? Thank you xx

Autumn- K.B x gn! reader

Hi!! This request was very fun--I always love writing/reading these types of fics because what can I say, my favs deserve to grow and change--so thank you for sending it in!

I know I'm probably starting to sound like a bit of a broken record with it now, but I am also very sorry for how long this took! I've been meaning to write it since it came in but life and motivation slipped away for a bit there. I hope you like it despite how long it took and again, I am SO SORRY!!

Fic type- this is so so so SO fluffy!!

Warnings- there's a couple of mentions of anxiety in relation to his touch aversion and kaz's touch aversion is discussed a lot. Kaz is also probably a little ooc, and this was written at around half past midnight and then queued for later, so the editing might not be as good as it could be

As Kaz woke, he found that the first day of autumn was to be your favorite kind of day. The kind where the leaves had already begun to change colors, the kind where a downpour hit Ketterdam, the kind where such a downpour still didn't manage to drive the pigeons away from the clubs and the two of you had not a thing to worry about in the world because you refused to allow yourselves that kind of worrying.

One of his arms was draped over your waist, his chin against your shoulder, and his heart kicking off at a racing pace because of it.

Waking up like that still sometimes sent his body off into a thousand different directions, each one more fervently anxious than the last, but the come-down from the anxiety and the anxiety itself had been easier to get through as time went on.

Kaz ghosted his lips against your shoulder. Everything is fine, he told himself. I am fine. I am holding the person I love, and they are alive, too, and we are alive together.

He felt you stir, wrap your arms around his waist, and effectively pull him into a hug.

You pulled away after a minute, and Kaz's hand moved up, gently tracing your lips.

"Any obligations?" You asked.

"None of note," Kaz said. "Or--none that I am unwilling to leave to tomorrow."

You grinned. "So, a day in bed it is, then?"

One of your arms moved to rest against his shoulder, your hand finding his hair like it were clockwork.

"If such is what you fancy," Kaz said. "I, of course, fancy it too."

You laughed. Kaz pulled you closer and you let him, content to be wrapped within the embrace that it had taken him a decade to be able to pull you into.

Kaz's touch aversion had been something that you never really minded. You loved him regardless of the fact that he couldn't touch you, and his actions made up for all of the hugs, kisses, and affections in the world anyway.

But, when you were eighteen and Kaz found that the mere idea of holding your hand was something with which he still struggled, he decided he was going to find a way to get better.

He wanted to do it for you, for every wistful smile you gave when you watched Matthias press a quick kiss to Ninas cheekbone, for every single one you gave when you would notice Jesper approaching Wylan, only to wrap his arms around Wylans shoulders and press a kiss to his forehead when Wylan leaned back and said hello.

But, on the other side of that coin, Kaz decided to do it for himself. Jordie had died when he was nine, and while he wasn't sure he would ever stop grieving the brother he'd lost to Pekka and his cons, he knew that he could not scorn the idea of touching others forever. He could not forever put off the idea of ending a business deal with the shake of a hand in his ungloved one, couldn't forever glare at people who'd dared touch his arms or hands or shoulders in passing.

A decade had gone by since he'd made that decision, and all in all it seemed to have paid off.

Sure, there were indeed bad days, but that was to be expected. Things like a long lasting touch aversion don't just go away overnight, and Kaz knew that. You knew it, too, and you didn't fault him for those bad days whatsoever.

"I love you," you said as Kaz pulled away enough to press a kiss to your forehead. "I love you so much."

"I love you too," Kaz said, part of him cringing at how long it had taken him to repeat the words back. The two of you had started dating when you were eighteen and Kaz couldn't say the words until you were twenty-three, when you'd already been saying them for a year and telling him that his actions spoke louder than his words and that you didn't need to hear him say it back.

He'd stopped viewing love as weakness at twenty-three, when an old but well respected gang associate had told him that trying to think love made him anything but strong was idiotic while the group was on a heist in Ravka.

The bloke was seventy, maybe, and had apparently adopted that mindset early on into his life. He'd kept it up til he was in his fifties and cost himself a family, a partner. Thinking of love as a weakness was something he'd gone on to regret, and while he'd indeed found the love of his life at fifty-two, he still regretted all else that the mindset had cost him.

Loving you, he realized, made him strong. On his most difficult days, you were there to offer a listening ear and a solution.

Love was not a weakness, as it turned out, and some days, despite what the seventeen year old Kaz Brekker might've said if he knew, love was what kept twenty-eight year old Kaz Brekker going.

One of your hands treaded through his hair before moving down his forehead, along the scope of his nose and his cheekbones, then his chin and his lips and the center of his neck, finding the divot at it's end that indicated the middle of his collarbone.

Kaz decided, in that moment, he would kill the reason you needed to leave your shared bedroom if one came up. He loved moments like those as much as you did, cherished them with everything he had because they were few and far between.

You pulled him down just a bit, pressed a kiss to his forehead and then a quick peck to his lips after he'd nodded and affirmed it was okay to, and Kaz looked at you and all that he could think of was the fact that you were so close.

You were so close to him, and he was so close to you, and he didn't want to do anything more than get closer.

"I love you," he said, breathless and touch starved and full of enough yearning to last five lifetimes.

"I love you too," you responded. Kaz's lips dipped near yours, and when you nodded, he kissed you.

It was kiss that said everything that Kaz couldn't manage to form into words, gratitude and joy and contentedness and sheer, undying and fiery love.

When Kaz pulled away, you were grinning, and so was he.

Eventually the two of you drifted off to sleep again, the only thoughts in your minds having been how much of a joy it was to be in the others company.

#kaz brekker #kaz brekker x reader #six of crows #shadow and bone netflix

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genericpuff · 2 years ago

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Rachel "Retcon" Smythe Strikes Again!

Okay, so I've been seeing pictures of Volume 4 of Lore Olympus floating around, and people are ALREADY FINDING RETCONS.

Most notably so far, some added panels in the Hades and Apollo confrontation that happens outside Artemis' house (when Persephone steals Apollo's lyre) in Episode 81.

This is the original scene, for anyone who needs a refresher:

Aaaand here are the panels that were added.

(all pictures of Volume 4 are courtesy @iwannagutyou on IG!!! thank you for giving me permission to use these! <3)

First of all, the art. It's so noticeably bad. You can tell Rachel has completely lost her ability to draw these characters in the S1 style, I'm fairly certain she took the panel of Hades from the old version and just copy pasted it to try and get around it (look at the posing) but it's incredibly obvious looking at that third panel that LO is not and can never be what it was back in 2017-2019. Those first two panels seem like they were copy pasted from the previous ones, which is just sad if those are the lengths she has to go to to come even close to replicating the older style.

Now, this just might be due to camera translation, it could very well look better IRL, but the colors just look so incredibly desaturated and the lines blurred out, to the point that people are doing double takes over whether or not panels have been directly changed - they haven't been, they've just been so sucked dry of their colors that they look off enough to cast suspicion.

If anything it's a harsh reminder that LO has kinda always had art problems, especially with its lazy humor and stupid meme faces.

Of course, to be fair, color loss can happen in print, but seeing how slapped together these books tend to be, I wouldn't be surprised if they just didn't put in the effort to convert the page art to CMYK or at least tinker with the saturation in editing some more to ensure it would come out more vibrant in print.

Now. Excuse me while I go on a bit of a crackpot rant here. Newbie puff pals beware, because this is gonna get dicey and you're about to learn where my tinfoil-hat rep comes from but I just have to talk about it.

Back to the added Apollo panels, where Persephone asks Hades not to hurt him and he looks nervous before she says "I just want him to leave".

Maybe it's just me, but it's a little weird that THESE are the panels they decided they needed to add. It's weird that she's asking Hades not to hurt Apollo when she's about to break into his car and steal his lyre just a few moments later. It's weird that the implication seems to be that she's referring to Hades' act of violence towards Tori... but Persephone doesn't know that's happened yet. So this feels like an unnecessary retcon that's doing more harm than good.

But I feel like the timing of this is kinda messed up as well, as this book released just days after the release of the last FP episode in which Apollo has his 'side' of the assault story told through his perspective, which is often considered a HUGE no-no in writing assault stories because it often comes with the implication that it's asking for empathy from the audience. We already know Apollo is delusional, we already know he thinks him and Persephone are meant to be despite her constant rejection of him, we didn't need a flashback from his own warped perspective explaining that very thing, the only purpose to do such a thing this late in the game would be to try and get the audience to 'connect' with him (it's giving S3 Bryce from 13 Reasons Why vibes). Now we have this scene of Persephone asking Hades not to hurt him (despite the structure of the episode being literally fine before, this change wasn't needed) getting snuck into the physical book release just a couple days after the newest FP tried to present Apollo in an empathetic light (and let me tell you, that's a whole essay and a half that I'll be getting into eventually).

Shit, if I wanted to get REAL Pepe Sylvia with it, I might say that hypothetically, the whole point of the random Leuce abuse episode - despite Persephone having no way of knowing what she attempted as Hades hadn't told her and she wasn't there to see it and we weren't shown her overhearing them in any way - and the following episode that was mostly padding of Hades and Persephone having sex - no consequences or follow-up whatsoever to the Leuce scene - was just to pad out the episode release schedule and buy time until the book came out so that Rachel could release that Apollo POV episode right before the book came out and revealed those new added scenes of Persephone asking Hades not to hurt Apollo, in what could be a sly artificial attempt at minimizing the SA plot so Rachel can finally just brush aside the one major plot point she regretted writing the most. After all, it wouldn't be the first time Rachel's controlled the pace of her comic to release certain moments at certain times that line up with IRL events.

But, y'know. I'm gonna quit on that thought while I'm ahead because it's probably making my credibility meter drop into the red. My ADHD has been real bad lately and it's really starting to show LMAO All ima say is that IDK who Rachel thinks she's fooling here, this kind of shit is stupid easy to fact check when the digital version of the comic is available online to read.

To end on a much funnier and lighter note, remember how Rachel tried to retcon the Demeter/Hera/Hestia relationship by changing the line "I miss my sisters" to "I miss my friends"? Well, there was one panel that had been missed in the webtoons version that still refers to them as sisters. You can still find this unedited line in Episode 78.

And uh. They forgot to fix it again for the book.

It's permanent now. That's permanent marker. It would have cost them nothing to find this in the webtoon version and fix it before it got sent to the book editors. Now it's gonna cost them thousands because the book editors didn't bother (or know) to check.

There's also this... weird shit going on with the speech bubbles. Like, they're REALLY FUCKING OVERDOING IT with the speech bubble outlines. I don't know who made this choice but it was a bad one. Gross. Don't do that. It looks so cheap.

But let's be real, at this point I feel like the book editors are just outright sabotaging Rachel because who the fuck calls themselves a professional when they do this shit-

Oh, and there's no bonus episode, just sketches. Which is fine. But it makes me chuckle to think that Rachel just didn't have time in her already razor-thin buffer to draw up a new episode to pass off as "cut content".

#i'm fired for that whole conspiracy bit aren't i #can you blame me when the wedding was lined up with valentine's day and dio's birth was lined up with mother's day #i swear to christ rachel does this on purpose it's so unhinged #just write a story #it doesn't make your comic 'deep' to line it up with real world dates that aren't gonna matter in 3 weeks anyways when they go up for free #it's just so unnecessary and pointless to do #lore olympus critical #lo critical #antiloreolympus #anti lore olympus

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lovesick-level-up · 4 months ago

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Editblr Community Survey ~ Results (Part 2)

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4

the first question of this section is what fandoms people edit for! we had a preset list, but had an option for adding your own, so there are a lot of options lol. the most common fandom to edit for is project sekai, at 59.49% of people editing for it. the next most common is vocaloid (at 57.4%). but, a lot of people edit for all fandoms outside of their blacklist, making up 55.4% of the editors. shout out to the multiple people who were like "too many to list!!", which, is a mood. and to the person who completely missed milgram on the list lmao.

the next, is what edits people offer! to the surprise of no one, the two most offered edits are layouts (at 93.1%) and icons (at 88.1%). the most common custom edit is color picked pride flags (at 2%), which i cannot believe we forgot. the distribution on this is really interesting, i had no idea moodboards and stamps were offered at about the same rate!

this was an interesting question that had us giggling at some of the responses. how do you guys manage to have had more than 4 edit blogs, let alone 6+??? we've kept this one for the last three years lmao - we've had two overall. if yall are wondering, all those extra responses mean the 4+ catagory is around 17%, making it the second biggest catagory. the majority of people have had 1 edit blog.

we were also pretty curious about this question. the most common editing related side blog people have is a resource blog (at 49.3%). it seems only about 65% of people answered this question, meaning the majority of editors do not have any sort of editing related side blog.

the next question is about how often you change your layouts. the majority of people change their layout whenever they feel like it, which makes sense from what we've seen. we tend to change ours every couple months-ish.

similar to the last question, this is about changing your urls! the majority of people have never changed their url, at 42.6%, with another 9.9% not changing their url, but moving blogs instead. it seems most people if they do change their urls, do so rarely or have in the past.

this next question was about what demographics people see their blog as geared towards! the majority of people (59.5%) see their edits as for anyone, with the most geared towards group being kinnies (at 22.8%).

these results actually surprised us. i don't know why we didn't know the majority of editors have under 100 followers (at 41.6%) - it makes a lot of sense. i think we got very, very lucky with ours, as have other more popular editing blogs. the majority of blogs have under 500 followers (81.2%), with 18.8% of editors having more than that. only 2% of editors have the maximum listed 2500+ followers.

→ part 3

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digi-lov · 2 months ago

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Hey I just wanted to give you guys a little insight into several projects I'm working on.

So first of all, some of you might remember me mentioning being sick earlier this summer. I was bedridden for like 2 months, and my health has been bad ever since, getting sick again every couple weeks.

Because of that I accumulated a bit of back log of cards to edits that were released since then. I mentioned before, starting with EX5 the english twitter previews started having the "SAMPLE" text pasted on it as well, but since around EX6 the quality of the previews has also declined significantly. Despite being the same pixel size as the japanese previews, the english ones have a lot more jpeg artifacts now.

[Left a cutout of EX6 Lopmon's japanese twitter preview, right the same section from the english preview]

Working with these now increases the amount of time I need to spent on each card, which really adds up with over 100 cards per set.

Besides the current card releases, I'm also slowly working my way through earlier sets trying to enhance the cards as best I can.

[Left BT1 Yokomon from Bandai's online card list, right my edit]

In the process I use multiple sources, trying to find the highest resolution I can find for the image and do color corrections if necessary. I also decided that instead of favoring "authenticity" I'll favor legibility, meaning I will paste in keywords I sourced from higher resolution cards, and in some cases retype the effect text entirely.

This is a very slow process, and is lower on my priority list so the progress is not very far. My goal is a complete library of all cards.

Another thing I'm working on is the Un-Dub Project, which I had previously introduced to you before.

I plan on assembling my edits in "packs" so people can decide themselves how much change they want. This will include the options from my original poll as respective levels, as well as a Tamer Pack.

[Left BT17 BurningGreymon, right my edit changing the names to Vritramon + Agnimon]

People will have to mix and match at their in discretion, being aware of card interactions etc.

Next is a bit of a smaller project, the Errata edits. Most cards that got Errata had their already fixed versions released as previews, but are printed incorretcly. Some however got their Errata after the preview releases, in which case I'll edit the card text accordingly.

The official card list will have the correct text, but those have very low resolution.

[Left original preview of ST19 ShoeShoemon, right my edit with text errata]

When releasing the Errata pack I'll include Errata cards that I didn't edit as well, in order to represent the full list and not cause confusion.

Finally I have a little passion project of doing edits of all cards with <rule> updates.

[Left BT6-085 Eosmon, right my updated rulings edit.]

This is gonna get a little technical, so bear with me. As per the rules Effects don't trigger in the breeding area. Before the <03> card layout revision, additional rules were included within the effect text. This resulted in card interactions not working as intended.

For example, BT11-063 Geremon has the effect "The name of this card/Digimon is also treated as [Numemon]."

But going by the rules, this would not be in effect in the breeding area, so for example Numemon X, which can evolve from Numemon, would not be able to evolve from Geremon in the breeding area.

With <03>'s introduction of the <rule> box, this was fixed, and some cards have been revised with this new <rule>. But as always, no reprints.

This is the edit-heaviest of my projects, as I felt inclined to not slap the <rule> box on there, but remeake the entire card in the new layout style to go along with it.

#digimon #digimon tcg #digimon card game #digica #デジカ #digisafe #lov speaks #blog update #personal #digi lov edits

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jadeazora · 1 year ago

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Ngl, I audibly screamed a little when I saw Giovanni was this month's Lodge pair. I've had people say that it was unlikely the villains would come to the Lodge, and while it may be just him for now, this raises my hopes of Cyrus or Lysandre being added one day, at least a little bit!

But EXs for Thorton and Shauntal being unlocked, and (presumably) spotlight Lenora and a couple new variety banners for Thorton (Magnezone) and Noland (Ninjask). Aside from some Pokemon I really like becoming playable, most pairs seem pretty skippable except for Rei. (I already have Dark Zone with Cyrus and Neo Champ Calem.)

Edit: Thorton has an EX already (totally forgot tbh given I never used him ever), so not quite sure why AbsolutelyPM uploaded it again unless his palette changes when you EX Magnezone. That said, the only variety banners I've Scouted on are the ones that do change colors in their EX (Ball Guy, the Rocket admins) and not old characters like Kiawe/Mallow/etc, so I'm not sure which pairs change, even if it's into their original EX colors they have for their regular partners.

#pokemon masters #pokemas #boss giovanni #team rocket #elite four phoebe #gym leader roxanne #trainer rei #trainer akari #factory head thorton #factory head noland #gym leader lenora #pokemon oras #pokemon bw #pokemon legends arceus #pokemon legends

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sleepy--anon · 7 months ago

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Day 4: Ship Day

@wishitweresummer 's lee!George week

Reblog first, like later please, reblogs do more

Slightly suggestive??

Sapnap and George had started going out a couple days into the London visit, they kept it a secret from everyone for the time being, but when the long distance relationship started to take its toll, they both confided in Dream and Bad. They didn't go public until well after George came to America, waiting for all the back to back excitement to calm down before they announced it. They constantly sent each other fanart, edits, and fanfiction that came to be after their little announcement. While they still had their separate rooms, George found himself in Sapnap’s most nights. The couple cuddled up on Sapnap’s bed, scrolling on their phones. George on Tiktok, Sapnap on Ao3.

"Oh my, George, look at this one!" Sapnap huffed out a half laugh, showing George the fanfic he was reading through. George went bright red and slightly tense as he realized it was a tickle fic and not just a one off short burst in the average fic. The more he read the more embarrassed he got, fic Sapnap was incredibly ruthless, pushing fic George to tears and then some, they had never gone past a couple of squeezes themselves, mainly because George didn't know how to ask him to. Sapnap noticed George’s sudden change in demeanor, quick to pick up things about his long term boyfriend, the way his fingers tightened around his phone when a certain spot was targeted, or how his legs curled in due to a certain technique. Sapnap pressed a sweet kiss to George’s hot cheek, pulling him from his embarrassed trance.

"Uh, it's uhm..." He tried to explain but Sapnap just trailed his kisses up till he met his mouth. A sense of satisfaction when he pulls a hum from George, slowly guiding him to lay flat on his back with Sapnap above him. This position wasn't uncommon, Sapnap training kisses down his still flushed neck feeling tickly instead of nice was.

"Uhuhm, NihIHIHick!" George yelped as Sapnap slipped his cool hands under George’s shirt, resting them on his ribs, feeling his pounding heart.

"What's up Baby~?" Sapnap purred, pressing kisses all over his face 'innocently'. George opened his mouth to say more but sudden panicked laughter came out as Sapnap dug his fingers into George’s ribs. But it wasn't like their normal, tickle for a few seconds and then back off, no, Sapnap rubbed unbearable circles into the oversensitive bones.

"STOHOHOOHOP STOHOHOP! STOHOHOP IHIHIHIHIT! WHYHY!?" George flailled as much as he could in their position, pushing at Sapnap’s skilled hands and turned his head away from his deep chuckles and purposefully tickly kisses.

"Strawberry~" Sapnap all but growls into George’s ear before yanking his shirt up to nibble along his ribs, pinning his hips to the bed. George’s eyes went white before bursting with color again like a firework. His legs flinging around as all he could do with his hands was grip Sapnap’s shirt. When Sapnap grabbed hold of his inner thigh, his back arched up and he screamed,

"STRAHAHAHAHAWBEHEHERRY!!!" Sapnap smoothed out anything that was now out of place, running his fingers through the ravenette's now messy hair, mesmerized by his lover's flushed happy face as he heaved for breath. He kissed him softly only to be met with a playful shove.

"Let me catch my breath man, god!! You nearly killed me" Sapnap wasn't sure what came over him, he just gently cupped George’s face and stared into his beautiful glossy brown eyes.

"Marry me?"

#sleepy's fics #ler!sapnap #lee!george #lee!georgenotfound #lee!georgesummer #snf tickle

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crmsndragonwngss · 7 months ago

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I've been thinking about this since I answered the ask about gifmaking a little while back, and I've been kind of unsettled about it since. Not because I don't like sharing my process, nothing could be further from the truth, but because I realized that that process isn't entirely accessible. So here I am again with an alternative way to make gifs that's infinitely easier, way more accessible, and just as valid as the other way. I wanna stress that. Anything you put time and effort into is valid and worthwhile. No time spent on doing something you enjoy is ever wasted, not least of all anything creative

That said, this method is considerably more limited. I made gifs this way for years before my brain was quite literally hijacked by an idea I could not get out of my head and I had to learn to do it the fancy way. I was also intensely annoyed at having to rely on my shitty internet to make gifs, and I probably would have made the switch at some point regardless just for that lol

I would also like to stress that this is not necessarily a tutorial any more than the other post was, it's simply a couple of resources and more or less how to use them. Like I said in the other post, never download and install anything to your device without doing your own due diligence first!

details under the cut

So first, you need to get the video. If you're on mobile, your device should have a screen recorder built in. Use that, and be sure to turn on Do Not Disturb so you don't accidentally capture any notifications! Once you've recorded your video, you can use your device's native editing ui to trim and crop the video and adjust color. If you want effects like slow motion, I like Splice on iOS. The big thing is that it doesn't watermark your videos, but it's also just a pretty good app overall for video editing. If you're willing to pay for it, it'll also allow you to make gifs right there in the app, but it's subscription based and the price is absolutely outrageous, so I don't recommend doing that when you could just use a free online converter

Which brings me to the next step: ezgif. You probably know this one, most everyone does, I think, but if you don't, here's the basic gist of it. Select Video to Gif and upload your video there. Be sure to trim it down to seven seconds or less, or else you'll never be able to get it down below 10mb. On the next page, change the size of the gif to 540xAUTO (for Tumblr), then change the frame rate to 20 or 25. More frames means a smoother gif, but it also means a bigger gif, so play around with it to see how the frame rate affects your gif. I don't think there's really a huge difference between 20 and 25, so 20 should be sufficient. If your gif is still too big, you can select optimize and try to compress it a little. The lowest compression level is 5, so start there and go up by fives until you're satisfied. If you get the gif below 10mb and it looks bad, then you should go back and trim your video length down further and try again. After that, simply save the gif to your device and upload it wherever!

PC is more or less the same, you just need to get a third party screen recorder. You can actually use ffmpeg to screen record if you'd like (I don't have the command line for that, however, and at that point, you should just go ahead and use yt-dlp instead to get a high quality video). If the command prompt is too much, you can just use a screen recorder app instead. I like 2-Click Screen Recorder. Again, you can actually use ffmpeg on that video to create frames and then upload those to ezgif, but if you'd still rather go from video to gif, then use CapCut or a similar video editing software to trim down your video to seven seconds or less. From there, the process with ezgif is exactly the same as it is on mobile

And there you have it! Easy mobile gifs! While I do really encourage you to try the "fancy" method of making gifs, this is still a great alternative, and you can make some pretty good gifs this way. Here are some of mine I made this way before I switched:

#she speaks #my gifs #ref #tut

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jasmine-kika · 2 months ago

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So, I made a Lucio AU for Overwatch 2. I found out about his backstory and Vishkar had taken their home and his dad worked for them. Omnic crisis went by and Overwatch came to help. But what if Talon found him while Lucio was taking tech from Vishkar for his skates and stuff and helped during the crisis instead of Overwatch. (Like, Talon got there faster that Overwatch and offered to help if Lucio went with them)

I drew him!! It’s after the lore and design rant if you wanna take a look. I also kinda animated what his weapon would look like in gameplay.

I seriously got the idea from listening to Chonny Jash, a cover music artist (idk if he makes other stuff, I have only listened to his covers). His stuff gave me this idea collectively. So songs in the same genre of music would be what this AU of Lucio makes rather than what he actually produces in the game.

I made him use more damaging attacks while still being a healer. He uses a gas similar to Moira’s heal while on that mode, although he doesn’t have the speed boost. He has a damaging attack in his bubble that affects enemies. It is a green gas. All the gasses are visible around him, so if this actually was made in a first person shooter, then the player’s screen would be slightly tinted yellow or green while using either one. I designed him with a gas mask because of this ability. His reload would be different, as his weapon is filled with the poison.(in the visual, the poison is visible as a liquid before being released as a gas (kinda like how a humidifier doesn’t use heat but still works) I was thinking it was an oxidation thing that makes it more deadly and also become a gas, so the tanks are vacuumed sealed) When he shoots, he does his normal sound wave attack, but if the enemy is close enough (and ignoring the poison in the original bubble) they’d get a lasting effect similar to Widow’s venom mine. It would continue until the player left his bubble. Almost all of the speakers on his armor-tech have been changed to where the healing gas or poison are released, and also his weapon is connected to tubes that carry the poison he uses, so it’s connected to his body. I couldn’t find a spot, so I used his shoulder.

Talking about the poison, I wanna talk about where it’s stored. I think in the original game, his hair is made from the light that Vishkar invented(I think it’s called Hard Light, but I’m 60% sure I’m wrong). In this version, the light is used as a wall for it and each loc is used as a storage compartment for the poisonous gas. The loc then connects to the headphones which transfer each compartment into two tubes which bring it to each exit.

I tried to think this through logically due to the science fiction in the game, some logic goes a long way, but also fun AU creation.

Random lore part of this AU: While Talon was going around to important places or whatever they needed to do, they ran into the deadlock gang(in this AU Cassidy never left the gang). They ended up fighting and Cassidy and Lucio got separated. Cassidy managed to sly talk his way to death (with training, Lucio got a shorter fuse and isn’t afraid of ending someone’s life). Lucio ended up ending Cass’s life and out of pure spite, he kept Cassidy’s revolver. So that’s just chilling in his pocket most of the time. I wanna say he’d eventually make use of it by learning how to use it, but that would take awhile and bring me too far into the future than I am at right now.

Note for drawings below: I used a picture of the Overwatch 2 skin and traced it to be able to change the colors. I added a couple details and I also changed the shape a little on the Weapon. (Smoothed down the speakers into just a rounder body of the gun. And I also made the tiny little tube on the bottom longer because of a reason I mentioned in my rant.)

Notes, continued…: For the animation, I just used a picture of someone using the Overwatch 2 Lucio skin and traced the gun and added my edits to the design before animating it.

There are tiny notes on the drawing if you can zoom in to see them.

#overwatch #alternate universe #lucio correia dos santos #talon overwatch #overwatch 2 #overwatch rp #comic dub idea

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videocookieseng · 1 year ago

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The next installment of Marvel Vs Capcom is here!

And it’s made by fans!

…Wait, what?

It’s been quite some time since the last game we got from the series. As many know, Marvel Vs Capcom Infinite left much to be desired; however, despite this slight stumble in the history of these games, everyone continues to enjoy the saga. Yes, everyone, there is not a single person who doesn’t love the MvC titles.

Due to this undeniable fact and the lack of new VS games, it was only a matter of time before a group of (super)heroes took control of the situation. Thanks to their great efforts and dedication, one of the best things that could happen in recent times manifested itself: mods! But not just any mod, these are for the favorite of many: Ultimate Marvel Vs Capcom 3.

It hasn’t been easy to get to this point. Unlike other games, UMVC3 had too many restrictions, and creating a mod seemed almost impossible a couple of years ago. The tools were few, the options limited, and at most, only small aesthetic changes could be made, nothing that would catch the public’s attention outside of the most hardcore fans; not to mention that the PC version was released in 2017, six years after the original on consoles! Today, words are lacking to describe how much these dedicated modders have achieved.

In this post, we will review the timeline of UMVC3 mods, a task that started as a dream and is now a reality, and what a reality it is. Grab some popcorn and keep scrolling, there’s a lot to see!

For a better experience, I recommend reading and watching the videos in the order presented.

Level 1: Cool!

The first mods were simple. Not many changes could be made. As expected, the most basic was to change colors, textures, and music. In the following images, we can compare the original alternate colors of Akuma versus the colors modified by user BruicidalBleathMetal on Gamebanana, on April 13, 2017.

(Akuma, original alternate colors. Ultimate Marvel Vs Capcom 3).

(Akuma, modified colors. Source: BruicidalBleathMetal, Gamebanana).

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Level 2: Great!

During this time, it was believed to be difficult to do anything beyond colors. Extra characters? New modes? Yes, sure… modifying the game was almost impossible. But then a light began to fall from the sky and it looked closer and closer and closer… No wait, it wasn’t a light, it was Doom doing a FOOT DIVE.

This is when it was discovered that some VERY small edits to movements could be made; as small as saying that if a projectile went to the right in the original game, now it could be changed to go in a random direction, wow!

youtube

(Arthur’s projectiles here should go forward, but they were changed to be launched in any direction).

This discovery was important; being able to modify movement statistics meant making them better or worse. Where does this lead? To balancing the game! (something that Capcom didn’t seem too interested in, cough cough). UMVC3 is notorious for having very powerful characters. This inevitably resulted in the first major mods focusing on balance, such as UMVC3 Arcade Edition, Project Mahvel, UMVC3EX, among others; different mods with the same goal: nerfing Morrigan, Vergil, and Zero (lol).

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(UMVC3 Arcade Edition gameplay).

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Level 3: Awesome!

Well, we’ve modified movements, can we do anything else with them? Yes! We can alter their properties, swap them between characters, compile them into one. We can give Doom’s missiles to Chun-Li…

Chun-Li with missiles? That sounds familiar…

Here’s how the first “original” characters appeared: Shadow Lady over Chun-Li, Lilith over Morrigan, Orange Hulk over Hulk, and Evil Ryu over Ryu. Unlike previous mods, these characters were not the originals with balance alterations; no, these were unique characters and functionally different from their counterparts, a concept seen in earlier games in the series like Marvel Vs. Capcom 1. These became known as “palette swap” characters (or PS from now on).

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(The first developed Palette Swap characters).

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Level 4: Wonderful!

The beginning of greatness. Let’s get straight to the point; finally, we see our first completely original character*: Captain Marvel, created by Tabs, one of the most important modders in the scene.

*IgnoringthefactthatsheappearedinMVCInfinite,sonotTHAToriginal.

youtube

(The first look at Carol Danvers, Captain Marvel, using the Phoenix model as a base).

This could be considered the true beginning of the scene. The importance of Captain Marvel was considerable, as it would lead to the discovery and development of techniques that resulted in the creation of other original characters like Ken, Cyclops, Thanos, and more.

These techniques involved taking animations and movements from other characters and putting them in one place since creating them from scratch was impossible. You can clearly see how we could have new characters, but still using resources from the same game:

youtube

(First look at Cyclops, using C. Viper as a base).

However, by only being able to use these resources, some… interesting results occurred. C. Viper was used because she already has a movement in reference to Cyclops’ “Optic Laser.” After editing the model and some textures, this is how our favorite laser pointer turned out:

(Cyclops… your arms…).

But hey! If you squint your eyes, it kinda looks similar, right? (coping).

I can’t help but mention one of the most iconic side effects of this experiment: a hip movement that is quite…*sweats*.

(Shakira who?).

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Maximum Level?!: Viewtiful!

Cyclops and the others can now shed their old skin and show off their glorious designs they’ve always had. This is thanks to a model importer that was developed. Gone are the days of taking and editing existing models; now, everyone can look as we know and love them.

(Model importer announcement screenshot).

Here’s a trailer of how the game was looking at the time with all the aforementioned improvements:

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(Gameplay trailer of PS characters with their new models).

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Level 6: Uncanny!

Okay, okay, I know seeing these characters in this way is amazing, but calm down; we’re not done yet, there’s something very important missing in this journey.

Because the modified characters replace their original counterparts, pairs like Cyclops and Viper or Frank West and Ultron couldn’t exist on the same team. Is it because these pairs are enemies who secretly love each other and that’s why they can’t be together? Yes No, the PS characters use the space of an original character, meaning both cannot coexist within the game at the same time. Even if you wanted to have them together, it’s simply impossible.

Or it was! At this point in the timeline, modder Gneiss developed a tool called the “Clone Engine,” allowing him to create new spaces independent of those used by the original cast. Now you CAN have Frank West and Ultron together, the pair of your dreams.

A fun fact about this section is that YouTuber Maximilian Dood, known for his fighting game content, put a bounty for anyone who could develop this tool, and as you can guess, Gneiss was the one who claimed it. Here’s Max offering the reward and here awarding it to Gneiss.

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(Gneiss showing that it’s possible to have two characters using the same space on the same team).

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Level 7: Crazy!

We have everything we need, what more could be missing after so much?

Well… the PS characters are still based on movements from others. Believe it or not, the animations you’ve seen in the previous videos are still not created from scratch by the modders but continue to use the technique of taking animations from the base characters and combining and editing them to create new ones. In their early stages, this resulted in what happened with Cyclops, but after much trial and error, it was hardly noticeable that this wasn’t official game content.

This video from CaliKingz, another important modder for the scene, shows the immense progress made as months passed. He has created characters like Gambit, IceMan, Captain Commando, and many more.

youtube

(Gambit gameplay).

However, now it’s no longer necessary to do this only, and the process is much simpler (at least in comparison), as we finally have:

(First trailer of PS characters with custom animations).

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Level 8: Unstoppable!

FINALLY! We’re almost at the end of our story, for now. The last thing to mention is that people are working on the next big barrier: creating a stable online mode using Rollback netcode.

Did you play UMVC3 online? Or maybe other games like Smash Bros. or Street Fighter IV? If the answer is yes, then you know that playing them online was like trying to fight underwater, unless maybe you lived near your opponent. That’s what this mod is trying to change.

If you don’t know, in very basic terms, Rollback is a system that makes playing online feel the same as playing offline, without delay when pressing a button, no matter where your opponent is. The system instantly handles latency between both players, making “predictions” of where the characters are when a button is pressed. Yes, it’s somewhat complicated, but the important thing is that it results in a much smoother experience. Games like Mortal Kombat 1, Street Fighter VI, and many more use this system.

Not everything goes as one would like, however. Twitter user HkHaan96 was working on this mod, but then gave us the latest update on this project in November 2023. Despite having successful tests, he announces that he will no longer work on it, and other people would take his place. To date, we haven’t had any news about this, but let’s hope that someday we can have something that gives UMVC3 the online mode it deserves. We thank Hk for his dedication!

(Demonstration that both versions can be synchronized with Rollback).

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And thus, we arrive at the present, quite a long journey, isn’t it?

Now we can enjoy something that was only fantasies years ago. Remember in the ‘90s when you played MVC1 for the first time in the arcade, and that made you think, “What if in the future I could make Doctor Wily fight against Doctor Octopus?” No, just me? Well, but now it could happen!

It’s a matter of waiting and seeing what more these dedicated and hardworking modders do. Who knows, maybe you can become one and create that dream character. The possibilities are truly “Infinite.”

Thanks to:

- Tabs, for their help with information about the first PS characters. Subscribe to their YouTube channel or follow them on Twitter to see their latest mods.

- Marvel Modded, for their help confirming the mods timeline. Follow them on Twitter to stay updated on the biggest mod “Community Edition,” a project that aims to unite all mods made by the community.

- All modders in the scene, for their great efforts that will keep this game alive for many years to come. The list would be endless if we included everyone, but please know you are all extremely appreciated!

#marvel vs capcom #umvc3 #gaming #marvel #capcom #fgc #fighting game #youtube #writing #Youtube #featured #article

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little-miss-moonstone · 1 year ago

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The Red Thread (Carmy x OC)

Chapter Two | Somewhere Between

Previous | Next | Series Master List

Summery: After Natalie begs Rori to help with some paperwork at the restaurant, Rori and Carmy come to an agreement.

WARNING: Anxiety, blood, almost vomit?, brief mention of past depression, very little editing. I think that’s all, once again just let me know if something needs to be added :)

Fear consumed Carmen as he watched Rori lying on the floor of the kitchen blood pooling by her side. She was struggling to breathe almost like she was drowning. He could hear everyone around him panicking, Sugar screaming for someone to call 911. It seemed like everything was happening in slow motion around the two of them. He didn’t notice when, but he was now on his knees by her side holding her hand as the blood soaked into his jeans.

“Help me, Carmy. Please, help me,” She begged.

He tried using a rag to apply pressure to the wound and the sound of her wincing through sobs broke something deep within him. How could this be happening? Hadn’t they all been through enough? Her whispering for help was all he could hear as he stared into her eyes, praying they didn’t close for good. He leaned in, noticing an orange glow in her irises. He wondered if that was what happened when someone was dying. He leaned in closer than before to see the reflection of fire dancing in her eyes, and the moment he turned around the fire alarm was blaring.

“Fuck!” Carmen cursed as he woke to realize he had almost set his apartment on fire. He opened the window while using the fire extinguisher to put out the blaze on his stove. He began fanning the smoke out the window and the alarm soon stopped. He sat on his couch with a glass of water seeing it was 1:30 in the morning. His breathing was starting to slow down from his actual nightmare and the one in his kitchen, glancing over to the journal on the coffee table, he leaned forward to grab it. He flipped it open, studying the polaroid that lay inside. He and Rori from Christmas 2018, or from what they called it, Fishmas. It was a candid shot neither of them had known was taken until Mikey had given it to him at the end of the night. The two of them were standing in front of the pantry, she had just arrived and greeted him with a hug. She pulled back and he said something that had made her laugh, his arm was still around her waist and she had put a hand on his chest as she smiled. If any stranger saw the photo they would have thought the two were a couple. He admired the picture for a few more seconds before putting it back and flipping to a blank page when his pen acted as a bookmark.

Dear Rori,

I saw you today for the first time in 3 years. You took my breath away, but you’ve never had that problem. I didn’t know what to do, or say, I thought I would never see, or hear from you again. That is my fault, I know, but I couldn’t risk you leaving me. I wish I never shut you out, you were all I ever truly had that was mine. You could have actually been mine and I ruined that too. I miss you, I miss you more than I ever thought was possible, and it's weird now because you're here and I saw you, but I still miss you. I guess that's because nothing’s changed and yet everything has changed. I used to know everything about you, your favorite song, color, flower. How you always prefer waffles to pancakes and when pinks and blues paint the sky at sunset. You’re scared of the dark and you can't sleep on the side of the bed closest to the door and the TV has to stay on. You adore dogs and you used to cry when we would pass the animal shelter. You hate summer and when Mikey and Richie would pin you down and tickle you and these days I would assume you hate me too, and I can't even blame you for it. I want to fix this, I want us to at least be friends because I can't imagine that you still love me, and I can’t stand for you to haunt another one of my dreams.

Yours forever,

Carmy

He closed the journal and moved it back to its spot on the coffee table, before lying back down on the couch and letting the TV lull him back to sleep.

Natalie invited Rori over to her house for breakfast in hopes of guilting her into helping find the missing tax forms at the restaurant. Rori almost choked on a piece of French toast at the idea of being around Carmy. She tried to voice her opinion but Sugar began to ramble on.

“No, Rori I need some help, and if it's you that helps then Carmen can run the kitchen so he won’t even be in the office. I have to find these documents or the IRS will cease my fucking home, please Rori, please, please, plea-“

“Fine! I’ll help,” She sighed.

“Thank you,” Sugar smiled. A comfortable silence fell upon the room for a brief second before Sugar spoke again, “Would it honestly be a bad thing if you and Carmy became friends again?” Rori sighed again, taking a moment to gather her thoughts.

“No, if we’re being honest, I would love that, but I doubt he would ever open up like that to me again. And, for shits and gigs, let's say he did, it took me months to cope with him cutting me out of his life. I-I don’t know if I could handle that again, I’ve never been so depressed in my entire life,” She paused. “You know how I feel about Camry, I don’t think there will ever come a time where I don’t feel that for him. It’s been three years, and when I saw him yesterday it was like the last 30 years flashed through my head, like everything came back to me, and despite the instant panic I just wanted to hug him because it actually felt like I was finally home.”

Nat’s eyes were glassy and she tried her hardest to hold it in, while another part of her couldn’t believe how much of an idiot her brother was. She had known since they were 10 that they were the perfect pair, not to mention both sets of parents often joked about the two growing up and getting married. Everyone expected it, so much that when Rori came home for Christmas in 2019, Mikey, Natalie, and Richie were shocked to hear that the two were no longer on speaking terms. She now hoped that if the two could just talk things out, maybe one day Rori would get to be her sister, like how they used to talk about as teens.

Rori became more anxious as they parked in the back of the restaurant, she was just thankful Richie was the only one taking a smoke break. She wiped her palms on her jeans before they started walking towards the door. She decided she was going to be cordial, she didn’t want to push Carmy away any further than he had already pushed. She was just going to stay in the office with Sugar and try to find this stupid document as quickly as possible.

After greeting Richie she slipped inside behind Sug and tried to keep her eyes on the ground. Carmen’s voice quickly got her to glance up as he was talking to Marcus a few feet in front of her. Their eyes met for a moment before she darted into the office and was quickly greeted by the poster of Fenway Park. A shiver went down her spine thinking about Micheal and how much time he spent in the office. She wondered if this was the last place he was before he went to the bridge that day, and she knew it was stupid to wonder things that were facts.

Two hours later they were still sifting through the never-ending paperwork. They were both growing frustrated and the office looked like a wreck. Rori was so grateful her phone began to ring. She noticed it was her publisher and quickly stepped out into the back alley. It was only a few moments later when Richie stepped out for a smoke break. He could tell it wasn’t a pleasant phone call from her constantly furrowing her brow and pinching the bridge of her nose. He took another drag just as she hung up. She looked at him and then at the cigarette he loosely held by his side.

“Can I?” She asked, gesturing to the American Spirit. He lifted his hand to offer the cigarette to her with a perplexed look on his face.

“When did Rori Bear start smoking?” He chuckled as she took a drag.She could feel her stress levels decreasing, even though she knew cigarettes didn’t help. She gave herself a moment before answering.

“Uh, I don’t know, about three years ago. I don’t smoke all the time though, it’s more of like an “I’m really stressed, or I have writer's block, or I just got off the phone with my publisher and they're bitching for a sequel” thing,” She shrugged before taking another drag and handing the cigarette back over.

“I’m sorry by the way, for calling you Rori Bear, it’s just habit y’know,” He apologized. It made her heart drop a bit that he felt the need to even say that. The nickname had always made her laugh, at least when she got older.

“No, no. It’s fine, I promise. Mikey always called me that, even after Carmy and I stopped talking so it’s okay,” She assured him with a smile. It wasn’t much longer before the two headed inside and she went back to the office to find Carmen and Natalie going through the mess together.

She went back to her spot trying not to focus on him too much, it was hard, but they all had their separate piles they were working out of. There was small talking happening mostly between Rori and Natalie or Carmy and Natalie, but that was better than silence. She got stuck on a piece of paper, it had MIkey's handwriting all over it, and then she noticed her handwriting. She remembered it from when she helped out during the pandemic. She had gone into the office and left him a note to remember to call the fridge guy and it ended up with them having a whole conversation every time one of them replied. She smiled brushing her hand over the ink, unaware that Carmen was glancing over at her.

“Oh, shit. I forgot to call Pete,” Sugar announced before slipping out of the office before either one of them could say a word.

Rori and Carmen both looked from the door and then to each other, then immediately to the papers they were both holding. He wanted to say something, but he thought he might vomit, or stutter, and that made him want to vomit more. Just say something, say anything!

“Uhh, so Book of the Year, is that like a big deal or?” He asked and then immediately regretted it.

“Kind of. I mean, yeah. I don’t know.” She settled on an answer all the while feeling like an idiot.

Carmen chuckled a bit, “You don’t know?” Despite him thinking he could’ve asked a million better questions he didn’t think that one was hard.

“Yeah, it is a big deal, but being the youngest to ever win a Pulitzer stunts your judgment on what is a big deal or not, y’know?” She explained trying to sound as humble as possible. Carmen just hummed in response, he did understand, which is why he didn’t care for awards all that much. Rori now realized it was her turn to ask something and she felt like there was a lump in her throat. She could ask all the questions she had been dying to know. Why did you push me out? Did our friendship ever mean as much to you as it did to me? Was there ever a point where you could have loved me?

“How has it been running this place? I mean besides all the shit that became yours and Sug’s problem.”

Carmen began to fiddle with the paper in his hand, trying to calculate a response that wasn’t completely unhinged. I’m so stressed I almost set my apartment on fire. I feel like one more thing might make me crumble.

“I-it’s definitely a change of pace from New York, but it’s not bad,” He tried his best not to lie. The room became quiet, but the tone wasn’t clear, it lingered somewhere between comfortable and awkward. They both knew it wouldn’t take much to make it flip, both of them grabbing folders to keep looking. She wanted to carry on a conversation with him, connect with him about something— anything. She opened her mouth to ask if Mikey ever got the fridge fixed, but he spoke first.

“Yo, I think this is it,” He leaned toward her to show her inside the blue folder labeled “Shit”. She met him halfway taking in the tax document not realizing how close their faces were.

“Yeah, yeah that’s it,” She smiled looking over to see his face an inch or two away. She glanced to his eyes wanting to burn the shade of blue even further into her mind, it was her favorite. He had always been a hard person to read, but not for her, she could practically see the gears in his head turning, he was trying to think of something to say.

“What is it, Carmy?” She asked, trying to pull the thoughts from his head. Say something, tell me anything, anything at all.

“Do you, uh, do you think we could talk, y’know about,” He paused to collect his thoughts again, “I think we should talk about things if you’re up for it. We’re both home and it’s clear that we’re going to see each other a lot. I just don’t want anyone to feel like they have to tiptoe around us.” I don’t want to tiptoe around you.

“I agree. Can you come over after work tomorrow?” She asked. Can you come over? I've wanted to show you my house since the day I bought it.

He agreed as Sugar came back into the office, the two shuffled apart proudly presenting the document to shut down anything she might say. After she and Natalie got the office back into some kind of order the two girls left, making an impromptu stop at the farmer’s market. Natalie obliged because she had nothing better to do, and after being stuck in the restaurant for hours the outdoor air seemed nice. They carried on a conversation about the “What ifs” in life coming to a bunch of unserious conclusions, laughing as Rori picked up some vegetables.

“What if you were picking up ingredients to cook Carmy dinner?” Natalie asked. She knew it was a bold assumption, but the mood in the office seemed lighter when she returned and she saw how close they were. Rori froze her hand going to pick up a tomato, she felt her cheeks warming up, and she just prayed her face wasn’t red.

“Well, I am picking up ingredients to cook dinner tomorrow night. If he eats, that's his decision,” She replied in a matter-of-fact tone. She didn’t have to look to know the grin on Natalie’s face stretched from ear to ear. She figured she had better do some damage control before Natalie got her hopes up. “We’re going to talk about everything. We figured it was better to get it all out there than to keep dancing around it. It does not mean anything is going to change, it just means we’ll be on the same page about all of it.”

The smile was still present on Natalie’s face, she knew this could only go well— no, this had to go well, for everyone's sake. She didn’t want to imagine what it would be like if it went wrong, she would be stuck facilitating every interaction the two had, not to mention what it would do to both their mental health. She pushed the thought as far back as she could. This was Rori and Carmy and she knew their story wasn’t over yet.

Chapter two!!! Please like, or reblog, or something! I hope you’re all having a wonderfully week!! My birthday is Saturday so I’m hoping to have another chapter out before then, or at the latest Sunday:) I going to do flashback I just haven’t decided if those are going to be actual chapters or like sub chapters, or maybe apart of chapter… ugh anyways, see you soon!

#the bear #carmy berzatto #carmy the bear #carmy angst #carmy fluff #camry x oc #jeremy allen white #carmen berzatto

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