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vinbitism · 23 days ago

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bark bark was led here by Sai relating to a HABIT and supernatural related question

so uh what do you think would happen if HABIT and Dean met?

First YAY SPN MENTION!!!! I have been a spn fan for basically my whole life. I'm not even joking, it came out in 2005 and that's the year I was born. I probably started watching spn when was like 3 years old but I didn't actually like it until I was maybe 8???? But that's what kicked started one of my longest special interests EVER. I made fanart, I made edits, fanfiction ANYTHING I was doing it. I also got a happy birthday wish from Misha himself on my 16th birthday.

I'm gonna write this as if it was a spn episode and not like. if they actually met idk HELP. also a read more bc I said more than I meant to 😭 also If you want me to just talk about how their personalities would go together I genuinely don't think Dean would like Habit at all especially after he learns what Habit has done. Habit might find Sam and Dean really entertaining and he would find it impressive how many monsters they've killed but he'd know they could never beat him and he would play with them until they finally realize that it's better to just stay out of Habit's business. Kinda like what they did w the many monsters they just. let go

Now, first things frist. Sam and Dean are gonna try and kill habit. They're gonna use every method they can to get rid of him, they would obviously do a bunch of research (getting it wrong at first but then dean is all "I TOLD YOU HE WASN'T A REGULAR DEMON" after they try to vanquish him. I doubt even an angel blade could kill habit.) Sam and Dean would literally have to make the godkiller themselves (although they might not be able to do that so they'll find Vinnie and try to force him to join there side) and Vinnie would act all nervous and scared as they bring him to the bunker and he would act as if he was so afraid of Habit but really all hes doing is buying time for habit to come find him.

This means since the spn guys have Vinnie they now have to deal with slenderman bc habit is not there to keep Vinnie safe. The guys will have to deal with Vinnie probably getting taken over and he might even get violent but the guys have so much shit in that bunker they would tie Vinnie down to make sure nothing happens HELP and they might already know Vinnie's story (and habits as well due to research) I feel like they might even ask him questions about fairmount which he can't even answer considering the fact Vinnie can't even remember living that life.

They'd find out they need the Northstar to keep slenderman away and to also "kill" Habit.

and when Habit actually is able to find the bunker, you just know a huge fight is gonna happen, and Habit will kick Sam's ass and send him flying (he could even possess one or both of them if he wanted to but they've been through that before so I think they could fight against it, atleast one of them would. and then we get a brother vs brother fight which only ends when one of them summons Castiel and he's able to break the possession, or atleast he's there to help dean get through It.

meanwhile Habit is just trying to take Vinnie back and after the fight the guys are like "WE WON'T LET YOU KILL HIM!!" to habit bc they believe Vinnie to be a victim and then it's revealed they're actually partners and work together and Vinnie explains how he's bonded with Habit and he can't just leave him and then sam and dean have a moral dilemma on if they should let them go even tho Habit is a horrible monster and yk what. Who are they to get in the way of it... Dean would be all, "Don't you remember Ruby 🙄🙄🙄🙄 she was a demon and she sucked and you dated her we should not let him go!!" and then Sam is like "okay but you're all buddy buddy with Crowley and he's literally the king of hell (atleast used to be) can you even judge 🙄🙄" and habit and Vinnie are just. waiting to leave as they argue HELP.

but aside from all that I really don't think Dean and Habit would get along much. Dean would wanna kill him which would make Habit wanna kill dean and they would be taking a bunch of blows at each other and Habit would probably poke around in deans head and bring up a bunch of traumatic shit for him. I think Sam would be really wary bc Habit would probably remind him of Lucifer and it would probably trigger something.

I will say if Sam and Dean were to learn about Evan they would stop trying to kill Habit and they would be trying to bring Evan back without killing Habit. Evan and Dean would really get along I think, atleast for a little bit. Evan doesn't drink or anything and Dean is a severe alcoholic so Evan would just be all "man I think you should slow down on those drinks" and Dean is all "IM FINE I DRINK A NORMAL AMOUNT."

Vinnie and Castiel might get a long really well and Cas and the others would wanna know why Vinnie would wanna stay with something like habit and they learn that Habit has made it seem like he's the only thing that can keep him safe (which is actually not true) and they'll even tell Vinnie that but Vinnie is so content and Happy with Habit that the guys just. Let them go after being like "well just don't kill anymore people" and Vinnie and habit are all "😋 we won't!!!" and all of them are 100% certain that Vinnie and habit will be killing more people, Sam and Dean just do not have the energy to give a FUCK about those guys anymore they have easier monsters to kill.

Bonus: I think we could maybe see habits true form too, the guys would do research on him and realize that habit is actually this werewolf spider thing and they would take all their werewolf supplies and they would hunt him down but none of it would work. they might just really make habit angry.

I don't think the guys would be all that scared of him, especially when habit is possessing Evan, they are way taller and they're very strong. They would underestimate the power Habit actually holds and it would frustrate them more than it scares them.

Considering they might not be able to kill Habit, they'll probably go the route of making him into a "friend" and being able to call him if they ever needed help with something. They'd get Vinnie's number and then Vinnie and habit would be on there way. They're probably all beat up but they're just happy to have each other again and then camera pans over to Cas and Dean to randomly queerbait the audience and be like "look at how they relate to this gay couple" and then dean goes "I need a drink." and Sam goes, "pour one for me too." and then the episode ends.

ANWYAS HELP TYSM FOR THIS and thank you sai for sending you my way. SPN IS ONE OF MY FAV THINGS EVER It's very important to me and so is emh... I love thinking about my fixations together

#🐍 ⦻#everymanhybrid

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idcpxseur · 2 years ago

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god im so stumped for the endgame ship i have so many ideas so imma just babble until my brain clears out

at the end of this theres a poll so yall should vote on what i should do!

Zanemau

zanemau has such a sweet, sweet, SWEET dynamic in mystreet

i imagine zane falls first and falls so incredibly hard

but he doesnt realize hes in love because hes so dead set on being the best, best friend.

it takes someone else calling him out on his actions (buying aphmau big, expensive gifts, being touchy with her, constantly vying to get her attention, giving her custom nicknames that he will get mad that ANYONE uses)

then when he realizes hes like "oh fuck what do i do" and completely panics around her at all times

aphmau is kind of oblivious to this. "i mean like he does this stuff all the time, why would it be different?"

meanwhile, aphmau kinda slowly realizes that shes falling for him. shes more nervous about completely ruining their friendship more than the idea of him rejecting her completely

the big gifts and compliments and touchiness make her SO happy and excited. i imagine zane is pretty tight with money (despite being a nepo baby and sitting on tons and tons of money from his rich ass parents) so when he actively forks out money EXLUSIVELY for her it makes her heart all fluttery

their feelings are obvious to everyone except the two of them. the group kinda actively puts them in situations where they are put together.

they are very much your typical, sweet "best friends to lovers" dynamic. which is why i love it sm

Laurmau

mcd laurmau makes me go WOOF WOOF BARK BARK WOAOAUEHEJFJ

and yes im relying heavily in mcd for their characterizations. those are the true versions of these characters. fight me.

yall seen miraculous ladybug? marichat and ladynoir? yeah. yeah its that. thats them

like okay: he is enamored by her looks but he just becomes absolutely smitten with her personality towards the beginning of pdh season 1. its that highschool crush that never goes away. even when he says it goes away, it doesnt. in fact, as they get closer, it gets so much worse!

he keeps the playful flirting and just teases her constantly

but you know as a friend, so he says

and she always playfully turns him down with a joke or a tease but you know. she knows that's just how he is! he has no feelings for her or anything!

but she was wrong, obviously. when they move to mystreet together after sort of growing apart during college, BOOM! those big dumb feelings come back and laurence is... well you know. hes laurence. he wears his heart on his sleeve and he pulls her aside and professes his love for her.

she turns him down (again) but hes unwavered! they go back to their original dynamic and nothing changes

...except BOOM!!! APHMAU CATCHES FEELINGS!!

mental breakdown ensues (on her end) because "HOLY SHIT I ACTUALLY CAUGHT FEELINGS FOR THIS DUMBASS!!! I CANT BELIEVE THE FLIRTING ACTUALLY WORKED OH GOD FUCK!!!"

the next time laurence flirts with her she drops the bomb so casually like

"hey, mlady, when are we going to go on that date?"

"i dont know laurence. when are you going to take me?" cue dead silence and aphmau locking Eyes with him and staring into his soul

it takes like 15 seconds for him to catch on

and he explodes. his face turns beet red. he blushes and smiles and giggles and practically kicks his feet and that motherfucker is GIDDY!!!

everything in their relationship is basically the same except they kiss

Garmau

I LOVE GARMAU IN MCD

god the way hes all shy for her and he subtly (SUBTLY!!!) tries to suggest his feeling for her

I LOVE GARMAU IN MCD IM SICK GOD

THE FALLING TREE SCENE?!?!?@? CHEFS KISS. LITERALLY AARMAU COULD N E V E R

(once again, im implementing more of their mcd personalities)

okok but this is mystreet, not mcd!

in my notes, garroth and aphmau were childhood friends for much longer! but then aphmau moved, they eventually lose contact over time so she remembers garroth the most but not really zane and vylad as much because shed often stick to his side because she has a little baby crush on him

CHILDHOOD FRIENDS TO STRANGERS TO TO FRIENDS TO LOVERS DO YOU UNDERSTAND MY VISION!!!!!!!!!!!!!

okay but... not really "strangers" but they lose contact for a bit and reconnect in hs.

they dont instantly recognize each other but aphmau instantly recognizes zane when she sees him. it takes aphmau way too long (about 3-4 weeks into the school year, when vylad gets introduced and they go to the park together) to connect that garroth the "hot sophomore guy who i am fortunate enough to share air with who weirdly enough shares the name of my childhood crush/best friend but that surely is a coincidence, right?" is the same garroth ro'meave that she used to play with when she was young

garroth... knows. well he gets it much faster than she does. after all, "aphmau" is probably one of the most uncommon names to ever exist in this universe so he pretty much recognizes her right off the bat but how the fuck do you even begin to address this? (is what he asks laurence who literally just goes dude, just tell her)

and then you know how the story goes, the love triangle (love arrow? love axis? love corner??? ITS NOT A TRIANGLE WHY IS IT CALLED A LOVE TRIANGLE) commences, aphmau ends up rejecting both of them because they stressed her out and the boys chill out and then they all become friends

then college happens and BAM mystreet

garroth is more upfront to the fact that he never really got over her

sure he dated ivy and tried to date in college but nothing felt right

being with and near aphmau just felt right in a way no other person has managed to replicate

and suddenly she was back and the world felt right again

but hes still shy and has no idea how to approach her

(i imagine hes much more flirty and a little more like laurence [less extreme tho] when he doesnt really have feelings for a person)

and aphmau well? shes just happy to be back around him. the sun seems to shine brighter when shes with him and she has no idea why

theyre much more awkward then the other two ships i have listed here

esp as aphmau is falling like oh god. the tension??? the awkward pauses and long gazes??? ugh its delicious i eat it up

much like zanemau, it takes the skittles squad™ (aka the mystreet cast) to the extreme measure of locking them in a room and forcing them to confront their feelings /hj

or on the other hand, one of em confesses on complete accident or OOHH on a late night and just spilling their guts

anyway. again much like my zanemau written above garroth would SPOIL her with his ro'meave money and she would not know how to respond

wow i wrote a lot for garmau

BUT WERE NOT DONE BECAUSE WE STILL HAVE

Garrancemau & other ship ideas

so imagine garrancemau as laurmau and garmau happening cohesively much like mystreet where its a "competition" except they have the underlying tension of a college fling or smth like that

and aphmau kinda like. tries to get them together cuz she can see that they also have feelings for each other and they think this is some gay-denial like that

TRUE LOVE TRIANGLE you know???

but like i also wanna try my hand at rewriting aarmau to be less... bad...

*IN MY OPINION!!!

i really enjoy aarmaus dynamic but i do really like it more in a sibling light so i dont know if i really do wanna go the romance route

but also i love aroace aphmau! or katemau or travmau!

APHMAU IS A VERY SHIPPABLE CHARACTER OKAY? SHE HAS GOOD DYNAMICS WITH EVERYONE!!

so yeah. i dunno!! what do yall think? please, im very curious and im open to suggestions!!

*SUGGESTIONS!! i may not take them and decide to do fuck all so please if you give me a suggestion please know that i may not take it but i value your input and i put it into heavy consideration!!

#aphmaurewrites #aphblr #aphblur #aphmau #aphmau mystreet #aphverse #mystreet #laurmau #garmau #garrancemau #god im so fuckin stumped #THESE ARE ALL SO GOOD #my multishipper ass is trembling there are so many OPTIONS #rotp #rise of the phoenix

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rodolfoparras · 1 year ago

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holy shit yes please okay hold on word vomit brace yourself

it's two am i apologise for incoherence

imagine you're new to 141, but you've been in the military for ages, long enough that you're known as this merciless killer, an omen of death. 141 is basically where they fling you because nobody knows where to put you (price taking in strays rhehrhehr gnawing on it) and you meet price and you're instantly smitten but obviously you can't do anything about it because he's your superior and you're like, kind of terrifying so you don't think he'll want anything to do with you but you still r basically guard dog-ing him, being super protective (of the whole 141 because they're price's n you know he wants them safe too?) and he notices, obviously, because you're not very good at being subtle (don't do this often enough for that) and one day he calls you into his office and he's like hey what's up with that and you're like sweating bullets bcuz oh fuck vulnerability

and then you blurt it out because you can *not*, when he's looking at you like that with those stern eyes and his lips twisted into a frown and you admit you just want to be scary for someone :( take care of them :( and it's him, for some reason, even tho he's a very competent man, and he's like awh baby and bam

your desire to take care extends past protection he leans when one day you overhear him complaining to someone (Gaz?? Nik over the phone?) about being stressed and not having time to get laid and then a few days later you're both alone in the common room, he's doing paperwork at the table n ur like. sitting on the armchair reading or smth idfk and he groans n shoves the paper away and ur like can i help, ur so stressed? but it's like a little flirty and he's lookin at you wide eyes a little confused, and then he's like absolutely

and tada you're sitting in that armchair, hands right on the armrests [he said no touching :<] n he's riding you looks so pretty n he's biting down on your shoulder to keep quiet and you're digging your teeth into your bottom lip because it's late at night but just in case someone hears it's the common area and from then on it's just a normal thing really for him to drag you off to his office when he needs stress relief n it always ends with him riding you or you kneeling between his legs while he's in his desk chair and sucking him off until he's nice n relaxed :(

n you're still scary n horrifying to other people but to 141 ur price's boy and price knows you're not so bad because how could a merciless machine be so good to him :(

oh shit sorry got really into it here's a goddamned essay i guess

- 🪔

Sugar I fakwing love this so much bc listen 🧎🏻‍��️

You feeling absolutely purposeless when you join 141, because being a death machine means you have a purpose while your target is alive and when they’re gone so is your purpose and you’re just a soulless creature but price fights tooth and nail to give you a purpose even when you fight against it

When you first joined 141 you’d been very reluctant to have a squad you were used to working on missions alone and now you had 4 other people tagging along

The first mission you had attempted to do on your own and had almost lost your life because you had miscalculated a step in your plan

141 although not happy with your actions were glad you were alive price had scolded you even threatened to kick you out but when you hear those words you freeze up bc in the short time you’ve been with 141 theyve Been nothing but welcoming to you and you rather not loose a team like that

after that scolding you start to see how much price goes out his way to make you feel like part of the team, and slowly but surely you start developing feelings for him price doesn’t even notice it at first until one day he gets hurt and you start acting out of your mind barking and biting at anyone trying to approach the man barley even letting medevac come close and even guarding him through the whole time his injuries heal

And one day someone makes a comment like are you his guard dog or something and you can’t really forget about that comment until price confronts you about it and he’s like don’t listen to them you’re not a dog and you fumble around in an attempt to explain that you want to be his guard dog you want to protect him and care for him and he’s like oh? Before he smiles warmly at you and caresses your cheek “alright then”

What you didn’t expect was how much the words good boy would turn you on but price notices, purposely drops the word until you Squirm in place, while desperately trying to hide your boner doenst take much before you’re pushed up against his office desk, with one of his legs steady on the floor while the other is on the table while working himself up and down your cock, hearing the obscene squelching sound coming from his cunt🧎🏻‍♂️

#alec answers #🪔 anon

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second-axis-point · 2 years ago

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I just read this fic called “secondhand high” by nightwideopen on ao3 (please go read it 😉) It was a dincobb fic and it has me in a diabolical chokehold. Do you think you could do something similar with male reader in place of Cobb?

Pairing: Din Djarin x Male!Reader

Warnings: Smoking?

Content: Touch starved!Din, Fluff, Din being generally soft

I absolutely LOVED this fic. Space stoner Cobb has me barking like a dog 🐕‍Thank you for THIS request 🧎‍♂️

First Time for Everything

You had been almost giddy when Cobb had handed you a pack of cigarras. You hadn’t had time to smoke after joining the Mandalorian as his partner and mechanic. Din saw you beaming like the suns, watching you walk back to the small hut the both of you were sharing while on Tatooine. The good Marshal had allowed you to stay in Freetown for as long as you wanted as long as you were okay with sharing.

“What are you so happy about?”

Din kept his tone light. You held up the pack and shook it.

“Got my hands on these.”

You moved through the hut to the back porch while Din followed. You sat back in one of the chairs, laying your head against the wall, and turned your attention to the setting suns. He had already taken off most of his armour, leaving him in his under armour and his helmet. He sat down in the chair next to you and watched as well, only looking away when he heard you digging through the bag.

“Where did you even get those?”

He asked you.

“Our favourite lanky Marshal just happened to come across a few of these. He also just so happened to be in the sharing mood.”

You used to live on Tatooine a while back and you've smoked with Cobb a few times. A lazy smile found its way back onto your face thinking back on fond memories.

“You want one?”

You offered a cigarra to the Mando next to you.

“I can’t really um-”

He cut himself off and awkwardly pointed back towards his helmet. You felt like an idiot.

“Oh shit right. I’m sorry.”

He shook his head and chuckled, the awkwardness dissipating quickly. You retracted your hand and moved your attention back towards the suns. You rifled through your pocket and pulled out your lighter. You place the cigarra into your mouth and light it. Din watches carefully. He watches your fingers as they wrap around the cigarra. He watches your chest rise as you take a long drag. He notices that you turn your head away when you exhale, making sure you blow it away from him.

The way your body relaxes make him want to take the ciggara from your lips and replace it with himself. The light from the suns made you glow. You looked almost angelic. Rugged and handsome in the setting suns. Once you finished and put it out, you noticed him looking at you and turned your head.

“What’s going on inside that head of yours, Mando?”

Your voice cut through his thoughts, snapping him back to reality.

“You could have one, I have no problem sharing. I could step inside.”

He appreciated the gesture.

“I would but-”

He cut himself off once again.

“I’ve never actually smoked anything before.”

He looked away, not wanting to face you while you made fun of him. But you didn’t. You hummed quietly and thought for a second.

“I could help you if you want.”

He turned back to you, surprised.

“I can’t take my helmet off.”

You nod.

“I could close my eyes or we could find a blindfold. You don’t have to obviously, but if you do, I have no problem helping you out.”

Din didn’t know how you would help but the way you were smiling at him made him not care quite as much.

“Alright.”

He nodded, feeling a bit of anxiousness nibble on the very back of his consciousness.

“It’s alright Din, you don’t have to.”

You reminded him, sensing the nervousness in his posture, as you got up to search for something to use as a blindfold.

“No, I want to.”

Seemingly satisfied with his answer, you head back into the hut. You finally find a good piece of cloth to cover your eyes and walk back outside. Din was still sitting, stiff in his chair. You brush your hand on his shoulder as you move next to him.

“Hey, relax. It’s alright.”

You saw him visibly release the tension that was sitting tight in his shoulders, his back hunching slightly. You didn’t sit in the chair, instead you moved it away from the wall and sat down on the wood of the porch. You motioned for Din to do the same. Once he was sitting next to you, you shifted so that you were cross-legged in front of him.

You pulled out another cigarra from the pack and lit it. You grabbed Din’s hand and placed it in his grasp. You pick the cloth back up and tie it tightly around the back of your head. You hold your hand out and he gives the stick back to you. You listen to the slight rustle as he takes his helmet off and places it on the wood next to him.

“Ready?”

You ask him. You were actually a bit excited. You’ve had a weird thing going on with Din for a while. This was the farthest you’ve ever gotten with the Mandalorian.

“I’m not really sure what to do.”

He admits quietly, his voice no longer filtered by the modulator.

“That’s alright.”

A soft smile slid onto your face.

“Just take a deep breath, okay?”

You kept your voice quiet, not wanting to sound forceful or startling.

“Okay.”

Din watches as you bring the cigarra to your lips and take a long drag. His hands shake slightly as he watches you bring a hand up to his cheek and pull him closer. Deep breath. Deep breath. Deep breath. He reminds himself over and over as you lean in. You start exhaling slowly as Din breathes in. His chest is buzzing and his mind is swimming and he’s almost positive it’s not due to the weed. He feels like his whole face is vibrating. Once you start to pull away, he breathes out. It was a lot easier than he thought it was going to be, only coughing slightly.

“You okay Mando?”

You move your hand down to his shoulder. Din’s mind went almost completely blank. The only thing he could think of was how close you had been.

“Can you do that again?”

He asked as soon as the words left your mouth. You looked surprised for a split second before giving him an answer.

“Of course.”

You, once again, took a long drag and ran your hand back up to his face. Only this time, Din did the same. He put both of his hands on either side of your face and pulled you in. His eagerness caused a warmth to radiate up your spine. He pulled you in much closer than before, your lips brushing slightly, almost making you forget to breathe out. But you did. You felt Din breathe out and he didn’t cough this time. Before you could lean back, he closed the distance in between you.

His lips were soft on yours and his hands were brushing across your face. Your cheeks felt hot and you could focus on nothing but the man in front of you. You licked his bottom lip, asking for permission. He opened his mouth and you explored it eagerly. He was the first to pull back, not stopping you as you nibbled down his neck and under his jaw. You revelled in the whine he gave once you pulled away. You both were breathing heavily and his hands were still on your chest. You realised that he was pretty much in your lap.

“What do you think, Din?”

You asked him before bringing the cigarra back to your mouth. He hummed and you felt his eyes on you as you breathed out. He watched the smoke leave your lips as he caught his breath.

“One more.”

Was all he said when you moved to put the cigarra out. You laughed and obliged. This time, he took it from you. You listened to him inhale and felt as his hands ran up your chest and onto your face once again. You opened your mouth and inhaled. His lips were on yours once again and you breathed out of your nose. Din put the cigarra out and climbed fully into your lap. The rest of the night was full of intermittent make-out sessions and teasing.

The next day you walked into the cantina, Cobb saw your laidback posture and waved you over. Once you got closer, he saw the hickies and small bites on your neck. He tossed his head back and laughed at your goofy smile.

“What the hell happened to you? I’ve never seen weed do that before.”

He nudged you with his elbow and ordered you a drink.

“Can’t thank you enough. I gotta drop by here more often.”

You thanked him and took a sip of the drink.

“Well, you and your Mandalorian are always welcome in Freetown, partner.”

Cobb winked, clasped you on the back, and moved to go talk to the other patrons. Your Mandalorian. You could get used to that.

#the mandolorian x reader #din dijarin x reader #din djarin x male reader #din djarin #cobb vanth #x male reader #x reader #male reader insert #reader insert #male reader #the mandolarian #i love din djarin #i love pedro pascal #request

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tenjikubaby · 3 years ago

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shion couldn’t beat peh-yan and akkun, but can he beat the worst boyfriend allegations?

Good day, lovers of the great Shion Madarame, ex-leader of 9th generation Black Dragons. Please accept my offering.

What’s it like having Shion as your partner? Gender-neutral HCs

Shion may suffer from Goldfish Brain and go over-the-top for you even when you wish he wouldn’t, but hey, he has his sweet moments.

➼ Before you got together, Shion had this recurring fantasy of saving you from some other delinquent. He imagines you being so impressed and amazed by him, saying “Wow, you’re so strong!~ My hero!”. Once, during a meeting, he pictured you slowly leaning in for a kiss romance-movie style while he carried you away from the “villains”. This was cut off when he faced a rude awakening in the form of Mochi slapping his head.

➼ What did I say about being goldfish-brained? Shion’s the type to forget important dates like your birthday or anniversary. He’ll only remember midday, then panic for a while before rushing to a store. Passers-by will see this scary tattooed guy on a motorbike with a giant teddy bear strapped to his back. There was also a bouquet. Was. The flowers have already fallen off.

➼ After watching Kakucho cook, Shion got this bright idea to cook for you. Thankfully, there was no fire! But you were presented with a barely edible dish. He looked so proud of himself, though, that you couldn’t help but eat it. Seeing that you finished it, he was so happy and told you that he’ll do it again. Good luck. Slip in some suggestions on how to improve here and there.

➼ When you ask him to spend time with you, he’ll get so annoying! He’ll say, “Heh, you want to spend more time with me? You want me so bad, huh. Huh? Okay, okay, I’ll spend time with you, I guess.” It kinda makes you wanna punch him but please know that he also just wants to be told that he’s wanted.

➼ Sometimes, he will disappear on you FOR DAYS. You’re left worrying and wondering what happened to him until one day, he comes back explaining how he lost his phone during a gang fight (he was also out cold for three days but he skipped that detail). If you cry, he will feel so bad and won’t know what to do because he’s not used to having someone worry for his safety :(

➼ Unlike Rindou in the previous headcanon post, Shion tends to understate his pain when you patch him up after a fight. You really have to watch his face when you’re cleaning his wounds because he will act all tough and tell you “Psh, it’s nothing. Just a scratch.” Don’t fall for it 😤

➼ Obnoxious attempts to impress you. Always. If you thought you’ve seen Shion at his most embarrassing in the manga, you’re wrong. He will fight ANYONE and challenge ANYONE. You’re left to take care of him whenever he gets his ass kicked.

➼ Your enemies are his enemies. When you two are walking outside and you walk past a person you dislike, he’ll be like a barking dog. He will talk a lot of shit and might even start a fight. No, seriously, please drag him away before anything bad happens.

➼ One day, your boyfriend had a sudden personality change. He was sullen, quiet, brooding. You got worried, thinking something was bothering him so you asked if he was okay. He was confused. It turns out that Rindou just told him that mysterious men were more attractive.

➼ Doesn’t like it when you compliment other gang members in front of him. “Kaku’s so strong!” “Ran’s so graceful!” “Mochi’s so respectful!” He’ll be rude to whoever it is for like a few hours. For some reason, he’s okay if you compliment Izana. He’ll even agree with you.

➼ You lost your phone once so you couldn’t text with him for days. One night, he came to your window and surprised you with a new phone. You were about to ask where he got it, but then you switched the light on and saw, uh... little dried blood splatters on it. He obviously tried to wipe it off, but he didn’t get to remove them completely. Yeah...

➼ Shion will never miss a chance to talk about your achievements. Whether you’re in the arts, academe, or anything at all, he’ll be so proud of you. Even if he doesn’t really understand, he’ll still be proud of you! His boasting about being the leader of 9th Gen Black Dragon transfers to you. “My partner is this…” “My partner did this!” It’s embarrassing but also cute.

➼ Shion’s secret: he likes to sleep on your lap or to be spooned by you while you’re sleeping. He may be this tough guy out in the streets but really, he’s just your baby. You enjoy these moments of him at his quietest.

➼ I’m sure he gushes about you to Rindou. Rindou is kinda just forced to listen to it. Sometimes, he’s the guy Shion approaches for advice–like what to give you for your birthday, how to apologize after fights, etc. It’s because of him that Shion isn’t the #1 worst boyfriend...

BONUS:

Shion:

(Free translation of the first message: “Sorry for being annoying, I won’t be bothering you anymore.”)

Tagging my Shion-loving bestie @milkkicoffee! come get ur mad dog

#tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers headcanons #shion madarame #shion madarame x reader #tenjikubaby #i tried to keep it balanced #i didn't want to clown on him too much #but i also wanted to stay true to his 3rd worst boyfriend ranking kjfdskjd #maybe let me know if you found it balanced

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theteasetwrites · 2 years ago

Text

The Beginning Is the End Is the Beginning

Chapter 96: There's No Place Like Home

❧ Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Female Reader ❧ Era: Season 11 ❧ Pronouns: she/her ❧ Warnings: language, violence ❧ Word Count: 5.6k

❧ In This Chapter: You've finally returned to Alexandria, but it isn't all sunshine and rainbows. The Commonwealth has taken over, and it will take some sweat, blood, and tears to get it back. Emphasis on the blood.

❧ A/N: Happy New Year! And man, we don't have very many chapters of this series left... I am hoping it will end at Chapter 100 (nice, satisfying number), but we will see how well that works out. I am hoping to also include some sm*t before the end... Just for old time's sake. Lots of exciting stuff coming up. By the way, please ignore the fact that in the show, it is snowing during the windmill scene. Idk what the writers were thinking, but they clearly fucked up the timeline because in the show, there is a Halloween event (which is obviously in October), and then it cuts to 6 months later, so there's a six month time jump, and that means that all this should technically be happening in APRIL, and it doesn't snow in April so I am just imagining it's April for my own sanity ok? And because I want Wes to be an Aries thanks.

You had watched through Daryl’s binoculars, sitting idly by as Negan struggled against the Commonwealth soldiers that tackled him. You were home now, on the outskirts of Alexandria, but security was high, and brutal.

You didn’t much care for Negan getting beaten, you had to admit. Some old wounds would never heal, and as much as you tried to reserve sympathy for him, it was difficult. What worried you, however, was Ezekiel, Nabila, Princess, Kelly, Connie, Magna, even Negan’s wife, Annie. What worried you most, of course, were the children.

The town had been turned into what you could only describe as a labor camp, with a redheaded man in a dark grey coat barking orders to exhausted workers as soldiers stood by menacingly with their rifles in hand. You didn’t see the children. Wherever they were, it couldn’t be much better than this.

You and Daryl met back up with the others, further outside the walls, where you couldn’t be seen by the guards.

Maggie was disturbed by the news, and even more disturbed to hear that the children were nowhere to be seen from yours and Daryl’s vantage point. “But they have to be there, right?”

You met her gaze, releasing a heavy sigh. You were about to speak before Rosita spoke for you. “Okay, we need to go in now.”

“We can’t,” replied Daryl. “There’s too many guards. We’ll never make it.”

“So, she turned our home into a prison,” said Gabriel. “After promising to give it back.”

“She never planned to give it back,” said Maggie.

“Wait,” you said, an idea suddenly coming to you. “The sewers, we can go in through the sewers, right?” You lifted your gaze to meet Daryl’s, who seemed to follow your line of thinking. “Like before, when the Saviors attacked. You escaped through the sewers.”

“Yeah,” he said with a nod. “Good idea. You and me, down shit tunnel.”

How romantic.

The group split, with Maggie and Carol taking the south sewer, you and Daryl taking the north. Gabriel and Rosita stayed on lookout outside the walls, much to Rosita’s dismay. You understood that—she wanted to get to her baby as soon as possible, so did you.

So you told her that if you got to the kids first, you’d be sure to check in on Coco, to make sure she was safe and healthy. It wasn’t much, but it was all you could do.

Daryl climbed down first, shining his flashlight down on the tunnel floor. It always made you nervous, watching him go first into dangerous situations. Still, he always insisted.

“Be careful!” you whisper-yelled down to him, yourself shining your own light on his hands as they moved down the rungs of the ladder. “Watch out for walkers.” As much as you trusted Daryl to be smart, you were always going to worry about him a little too much.

“Shh!” He held his finger over his pursed lips, then let go of the last rung to drop feet first on the ground. He held up his hands to beckon you. “C’mon!” he whisper-yelled back. “Ain’t got all day.”

You rolled your eyes as you turned to climb down. “What’s it like down there?”

“Smells like shit.”

You stepped on the fifth rung down, now catching a whiff of said shit. “Besides that.”

“Dark and wet.”

You gave up asking by the time you got down, but now you could see it for yourself. Indeed, it was dark, wet, and it did smell like shit.

“This way,” said Daryl, pointing towards the beam of the flashlight that illuminated the tunnel. l. “I’ll go first, stay behind me.”

You ignored him, walking alongside him instead.

He huffed, shining his light just below your face. “You never listen ta me,” he said.

You tilted your head and made a sour face. “And you always baby me.”

“Pfft…” Well, he wasn’t going to deny it. He did baby you, but it was for a good cause. “Jus’ be careful.”

The two of you silently stalked the length of the tunnel for a while, until you stumbled upon an overgrown maze of leafy vines hanging from the sewer grate just overhead. Entangled in those vines was a walker, flailing its arms and growling as the two of you approached with your flashlights trained on its rotting face.

“How the hell did it get down here?” you asked.

Daryl spared no time, bending over to begin clearing out the overgrowth with a series of grunts. You followed his lead to help make a path. “Musta found its way in ‘ere somehow. Got all tangled up.”

The walker’s sounds got louder the closer Daryl got, until his knife plunged into its head, ending its growling and flailing. He shined his light further, making sure that was the only one. “S’all clear now,” he said. “Come on, this way.”

You trudged through the brush, grabbing Daryl’s hand when he lent it to you. The path was still not quite stable, though, and a wrong step between the branches caught the toe of your boot, causing you to stumble.

Daryl’s grasp tightened, with his other hand grabbing your other wrist to keep you steady. You didn’t fall, but you stumbled enough for a flash of white to cascade from your coat pocket. All you had in there was your photo, as you always kept at least one with you.

“Oh, no.”

You turned to frantically search through the leaves, while Daryl looked on in confusion as he held his flashlight with the beam concentrated on your hands. “What is it?”

“Nothing, just…” You found the polaroid nestled among a few leaves, and you sighed in relief. “Thank God.”

You turned the photograph over in your hands, revealing the face of your daughter. She smiled wide, with Dog posed beside her as her arm wrapped around his neck. That photo was an older one, taken a few summers ago. Robin wore her favorite white linen overalls, decorated with daisies lovingly embroidered by you, and her floppy brown gardening hat. Even Dog sported a yellow bandana tied loosely around his neck, with his tongue hanging out to the side as his mouth humorously curled into a wide grin.

Robin’s eyes looked so blue here, like two little sapphires shining between caramel colored bangs that hung a little too low on her forehead. You remembered trimming them not too long after you took that photo.

You slathered her exposed skin in sunblock that day, making sure she didn’t get any burns. Her skin was sensitive, like yours. She burnt easily, but when she rubbed her eyes that day, the sunblock seeped in, irritating her. She came up to Daryl crying, her fists balled up in her eyes as she rubbed them in an attempt to get the sunblock out. You were bringing out the lemonade, and Daryl dropped his hot dogs to see what was wrong with the little girl. The poor thing sobbed so much she couldn’t make out any words, and you came out onto the front porch to see Daryl in a parental panic, Robin bawling her eyes out, and Dog feasting on sausages.

At least you had gotten that photograph before all Hell broke loose. You had managed to get your two children to sit upon the porch of your home in Alexandria, taking a break from playing in the unforgiving midsummer heat of Virginia. It was nothing compared to Georgia, Daryl always reminded you, but it was all Robin had ever known, until you left.

We never should’ve left.

“Hon?”

You sniffled, holding back a few tears. After all these years, you still couldn’t stop yourself from crying. Everyone else had gotten so good at it, it seemed. Sometimes, you wondered if you had gotten even more sensitive.

“It’s… I forgot I put this in my pocket.” You chuckled slightly under your breath, just now noticing how filthy Dog’s paws were from digging holes and trying to catch gophers. “Sorry.”

You reached down to return the photograph to its home, but Daryl’s hand stopped you, gently holding your wrist. “Let me see.”

With another sniffle, you held it out to him, and he took it in his own hands. “She was so little,” he said, his lips quirking into the slightest crooked smile. “Even Dog looks younger.”

“They’re precious,” you said, your voice beginning to falter. “I wish… I wish I’d taken one of Wes before we left.”

He looked up to study your face, now with one tear running down your cheek. You quickly brushed it away, sniffling again.

“We should keep going,” you said.

“Wait a sec.”

Odd. Daryl was usually the impatient one of the two of you, and though neither of you wanted to spend more time in this stinking hole, Daryl couldn’t go on with you like this. He didn’t have to ask. He knew what it was.

“We’ll find ‘em,” he said. “We will.” As he held out the photograph to hand it back to you, he cupped your hand over his, as if Robin’s portrait was protected by both of you. Well, it was. She was, so was Wes.

“H-how do you know?”

His eyes softened in the way they only could for you, his angel. “I just do.” He let your hand go, so you tucked your photo back into your pocket. When your eyes looked back up at him, he rested a hand on the spot where your neck met your shoulder. His thumb reached up to rub your cheek, where his touch warmed you.

“Dad instincts,” he added with a smile, much to your amusement. A small chuckle erupted from you, but it was bittersweet.

“You’re such a good dad.”

He could feel himself beginning to choke up, your emotions and your words overwhelming him, too. The empathy link between you and him was always strong, to the point that your hurt was his hurt, and vice versa. Not only that, but he was terrified, too. Still, one of you had to be strong for the other now.

“And you’re a great mom.”

“No,” you said, though you leaned into his touch. “I tried… I tried not to let them take them away.” Guilt washed over you then, and he could feel it, like it was flowing from your body into his from the point where his hand touched your cheek.

He pulled you in, against his body. His arms formed a protective barrier around you, as they always did. His pride was in keeping you safe, like you were entrusted to him forever. It was a great responsibility to protect the most precious thing in the world, to love her and make her happy as much as he could, but he was never one to give up easily. Besides, loving you was easy. It came naturally to him.

“I know.” He let his chin rest upon your head, while his hands smoothed over the ripples in your coat on your back. “I know you wouldn’t just let ‘em get taken. You did what ya could.”

“It wasn’t enough.”

“Hey, I lost the kids, too. They jumped us. Hell, you just had a baby. You weren’t in any condition to fight back, you know that.”

He pulled back, but you still looked down. His hand came up to hold your chin, lifting it until you were forced to face him. Your eyes were weighed down by tears tugging at your waterline, threatening to trickle down your reddened cheeks. Your lips quivered slightly as you tried to hold it together, for him. He was always so strong for you, you had to try to be strong for him, too, even if he had strength for the both of you.

“If we… lose them—”

“Stop it.”

“But we could—”

“No.” Both hands held your cheeks again, this time with more pressure. Not too much, but just enough to let you know he was serious. “Listen to me. There ain’t no damn use in thinkin’ about what might happen or what might be happenin’. All we gotta think about right now is how we’re gonna find ‘em, and what we gotta do to find ‘em. I know you ain’t ever gonna stop worryin’, ‘cause that’s just who you are, and I love you, but you gotta trust me.”

You gotta trust me stuck with you.

“I trust you… Do you trust me?”

“You know I do, angel.”

You held him back, squeezing him as hard as you could, like a human stress ball. “I love you, Daryl Dixon.”

He took advantage of the space where your neck was exposed to leave a small kiss there. “I love you, too… And when all this is over, I’m takin’ you somewhere nice.”

You turned to face him with a weak chuckle as you wiped away the last of your tears. “What?”

“Like a vacation.”

Sometimes, Daryl surprised you. It was a rare occurrence, since Daryl was always rather predictable, which you liked, but there were times like these where his impulsiveness would come out, perhaps just to distract you momentarily from your worries. He knew exactly how to do so.

“A vacation?” you asked. “There’s no such thing. You used to say that vacations were impossible now.”

“Yeah, but… What if we just get on the bike and go? Ain’t gotta be far, just a little ways away, just you and me.”

You shook your head in playful dismay. “Daryl Dixon,” you said, “you seem to be forgetting that we have no less than four children we are currently responsible for, two of which are our children, one of which is a baby.”

“Well, we wouldn’t be gone long… And we could wait till Wes is older, when everythin’ calms down. Maybe things will be better again, like they were before.” He studied his surroundings, the dark tunnel in which you were standing, which wreaked of putrid musk. “Now let's get outta this shithole, and get our kids back.”

By the time you raised the sewer grate, stepping out clandestinely inside the walls of Alexandria, it was dark. With only two flashlights to lead the way, you immediately recognized where you were. It was the middle of Morgan Street, your street.

It was empty, though, too empty for comfort.

“Where is everybody?” you whispered. “The guards…” You trailed off as the beam of light you held in your hand illuminated a distant house, its windows dark inside and the familiar rose bushes you had once kept so meticulously pruned were gone, ripped from the recently tilled dirt that once housed their roots. “Daryl.”

He turned to follow your eye line, and sadness welled within him like a tidal wave. The house was repaired to some extent, but it looked so different now. It looked dreary, empty. The home he’d made with you was no longer boisterous and full of life.

He could still hear the patter of Robin’s little feet upon the hardwood floor as Dog chased her.

He could still smell your potpourri experiments, cloves and oranges and magnolias and lavender and rose and whatever else you could get your hands on.

He could still feel your weight leaning into his chest as he held you, sitting upon the couch as a roaring fire crackled in the fireplace, keeping you both warm into the wee hours of the morning, when he’d more often than not carry you upstairs to your bed.

He could still remember watching Robin help Lydia with her homework, the girls’ hushed voices concentrating on their assignments as you looked on proudly.

So many memories in that house, so many voices had been carried in its walls. Voices of people long past… Old friends no longer here to see what this place has become, for better or for worse.

What was once home was now just some house.

Wordless sadness floated aimlessly between the two of you, but sadness didn’t get things done. Persistence did, and you were both persistent in your search for the children.

You didn’t have to slink around long before you saw it—in the center of town, just in front of the windmill, a small army of Commonwealth guards had gathered, along with what seemed to be all the prisoners. From the looks of things, they’d been woken up, taken by force to the square.

Unfamiliar light posts had sprouted on either sides of the crops, spewing harsh, cold lights to illuminate the scene. The place was grey, sterile, a far cry from your memories. Alexandria had once been a bright, colorful place. It had once been a collage of eras, memories and moments in time that defined the settlement’s journey.

There were the suburban townhouses and model homes from the old world, then the corrugated fence that kept out the dead, marking the beginning of the new world. When the fence was expanded, Alexandria grew, encompassing more land to build. Bare bones buildings put together with the most basic, yet sturdy, of materials dotted the place, giving it that craftsman charm you always admired. Nothing looked perfect, it was always built by hand, trial and error. The windmill you now gazed at was the biggest landmark. The majesty of it symbolized to you human innovation in the face of stagnation.

Now, it was covered in blood.

What shocked you more was the line of guards that stood with their guns held high, aiming to shoot at the people you knew—Ezekiel, Nabila, Princess, Magna, Connie, Kelly, Negan, Annie…

They were making a stand. Of course they were. They were your people, and that’s what your people had always done.

Ezekiel stood before them all, his arms outstretched in a gesture of protection. He spoke loudly, his voice reverberating in the night. “You don’t have to do this! This world is broken, but we don’t have to be!”

At the end of the firing line stood the red-haired man in the dark grey coat you’d seen earlier. He was in charge, you gathered, and he was the one who wanted your people dead.

You noticed a movement in the firing squad, a soldier stepping out of line. The others lowered their weapons to see what was happening, as the soldier who stepped away raised his.

He aimed for the man in charge, much to your shock. When another soldier attempted to shoot him, he shot back.

The red-haired man scurried in a panic, grabbing poor Kelly as he held a pistol to her head, walking backwards as if to eventually make a run for it.

“No!” shouted Magna. “Kelly! Kelly!”

The others held her back, as there wasn’t much to be done. If she moved, he’d kill Kelly. Luckily for you, you were behind him, wrapped around the other side of the windmill, and he was only inching closer.

Daryl moved faster than you this time, procuring his knife as he moved past you, towards the man as he backed up into the darkness in which you were hiding. You were right behind him, your knife drawn, too, just in case.

You didn’t need it, of course. Daryl always aimed just right, plunging the blade into the base of the man’s neck where his spinal cord met his brain. He did it so coolly, with no emotion behind his eyes. You always knew that something shifted whenever Daryl went into that mode—he’d turn off his feelings for a split second, turn off any parts of him that might object to murder. What prevailed in those moments was his sense of justice, revenge, and order. If there was anything Daryl could do, it was kill.

Silence strangled out all the sounds of panic that began to fade. The man fell immediately after Daryl’s stab, no doubt losing all ability for his head to control his body. Kelly was embraced by her sister, and now you both stood before the others in a bittersweet reunion.

Out in the crowd of other prisoners, there was no objection to the end of the tyrant’s rule. Even the other guards stood down, seemingly returning Alexandria to the people.

But the taskmaster hadn’t been killed, not yet. Daryl had only paralyzed him, and he was on his way out, but he was still alive. Negan came forward, picking up the man by his jacket collar and dragging him out towards the crowd. He picked up a rock large enough to hold with two hands, and just before he struck him with the final blow to end the man’s misery, a voice called out.

“Negan!” Rosita burst forward as Gabriel flipped the man till he was facing up. “Don’t kill him!” she shouted.

“Where’s my daughter?” She leaned over the man, grasping his collar as she yelled, “Where is she?!”

There was an unmistakable quiver in her voice, a kind of desperation and rage that only a mother looking for her child could have. He didn’t answer, not that you heard from the distance you stood, anyway.

What you did hear, though, was the unmistakable wheezing and growling of a walker. Your head pivoted like a finely tuned machine, your hand instinctively grasping for the handle of your knife. The soldier that had been shot had turned, and the walker was slowly but surely rising to his feet.

Rosita was faster, though. She tugged on the walker’s uniform, pulling him towards the nearly lifeless man’s body with a wild groan.

She held the snapping, starving walker to the man’s face, shouting again, “Where the hell is she?! Tell me where she is!”

You could only look on, somewhere between understanding and horror. It sent a shiver down your spine—she hadn’t been able to find Coco, what if Robin and Wes weren’t there either?

Frozen in your fear, you only heard the red-haired man faintly say one phrase to Rosita. “You will lose everything.”

Just then, she dropped the walker, letting its teeth sink into the man’s face. “No! No! Ahh!”

Before you looked away, you saw the bright red flesh tearing away as the walker dined on his eye socket. No one made a move, not wanting to disturb the creature’s feast. It would have to be put down, but not only the man was made to suffer.

You didn’t care now, though. With the man still screaming, you turned swiftly, only your children’s safety on your mind.

“(Y/N)!” Daryl followed after you, his breath heavy as he tried to keep up.

“Not my babies,” was all you could reply, panting as you ran towards the nearest house, ready to raid each and every one.

The townhouse you chose to search first looked lived-in with candlelight glowing in the window of the second floor. You hurried up the steps of the porch, knife drawn and ready to kill if anyone got between you and the children.

Of course, Daryl tried to go in front of you, but, in an unusual display of roughness, you pushed him away with more force than he’d ever known you to have. You looked at him with wild, electric eyes, your hair falling out of your hat in an untamed mess. You didn’t have to say anything, he knew what you meant to say: I’m fucking going first.

So you did, kicking open the front door with a grand crash. It was a far cry from your usual more subtle, quiet approach, but there wasn’t going to be any stopping you now. The soldier that almost immediately greeted you was caught off guard when your knife slit his forearm where the armor wasn’t covering. It caused him to drop his gun while you slit his thigh, sending him writhing in pain on the floor.

It happened so fast that you lost conscious thought of the things you were doing, but Daryl watched your every move, making sure you didn’t make a wrong move. You quickly armed yourself with the soldier’s gun, wielding it as you inspected each room on the first floor, each empty.

You huffed, blowing a stray strand of hair away from your face. Then, you heard what sounded like muffled, higher-pitched voices coming from the floor above. They were children’s voices, you knew that for sure.

As you ran through the hallway, jumping over the writhing soldier to flee up the stairs, you began to hear the wailing of a baby. Warm tears flooded your vision, but you were steadfast in your search. You used your back to throw the first door open, holding the gun ready.

When you laid your determined eyes on an eleven-year-old girl with long brown hair, they softened immediately.

“Aunt (Y/N)!” Judith ran to you across the room. Her arms outstretched to hug you, so you dropped the gun and leaned down to receive her.

You peered over her shoulder to see more familiar children—Nabila and Jerry’s kids, whose names you admittedly lost track of at times, were among them, with more you recognized from the Commonwealth. And, of course, RJ was in Daryl’s arms, but the reunion couldn’t last too long—Robin and Wes weren’t here, and the crying had stopped.

“Judith,” you said, both sternly and with a tremble in your voice. “Where’s Robin and the baby?”

The crying began again, coming distinctly from across the hall. This time, Daryl moved first, knife drawn to slam through the door of the room where the crying came from.

You followed behind, peering over his shoulder to see light brown-haired girl, cowering in the corner of the room and facing the wall, rocking back and forth with a bundle of something in her arms. You knew the back of her head anywhere, the shape of her little body. Her hair was tied in a low half-ponytail, and her knitted sweater of seafoam green was unquestionably the garment of your daughter.

“Robin!” Daryl shouted out.

She turned immediately, her face red and puffy from crying. Westley, bundled up in a sloppy swaddle, flailed his limbs and wailed in her arms. She must’ve been trying to keep him quiet, having heard the scary noises downstairs.

“Daddy?!” she called out in confusion. “Mama!”

She lifted herself to her feet, still clinging to her infant brother, as you came forward, arms ready to snatch her up and never let her go.

You couldn’t form words as you held her and the baby, all you could was cry tears of joy and relief. But, out of fear of squishing Wes, you loosened your hold on the child for a moment to delicately take the infant into your embrace.

“He won’t stop cryin’,” she said with a sniffle of her own. “I was so scared, I thought…”

Daryl leaned down to hold her, and she lost of train of thought when she plummeted her head between his neck and shoulder. “S’all right,” he said quietly, his strong, warm hands gently rubbing her back. “Everythin’s all right now, birdie.”

Westley’s crying calmed intermittently as you rocked him, but he was hungry, and neglected.

When Daryl left momentarily to touch base with the others, you stayed behind with the children. Maggie and Carol met up with you in that townhouse, where they’d brought Hershel, Gracie, and some more children that they’d found being held in one of the other houses. It was the biggest children’s sleepover you’d ever seen, though it was still a rather solemn night.

Coco was still nowhere to be found, and a few other babies belonging to some of the Commonwealth prisoners weren’t there, either. It chilled you to the bone, and you wouldn’t be able to sleep that night.

Daryl wouldn’t, either. He instead helped draw up a plan of attack with some of the others, planning on returning to the Commonwealth first thing come sunrise. They were going to get the rest of the children back, and they were going to take down Pamela for what she’d done, or tried to do.

Though it would’ve been a great historical moment to witness, you stayed in the townhouse to help watch over the children, and to nurse Wes. Even Dog, who’d been chained up outside the house, seemed starved of attention, so you brought him in, and he welcomed you with a myriad of slobbery kisses.

It wasn’t until almost sunrise when Maggie paid you a visit, knocking gently on the door to the bedroom you’d planted yourself in.

You smiled up at her, folding your blanket over Westley as he nursed. Robin laid next to you, her head using your belly as a pillow. She was curled up, tucking her legs into her chest as she slept soundly, small, dainty snores and little wispy breaths filling the air. As he slept on the foot of the bed, Dog’s snores helped create a strange little symphony.

Maggie smiled back at you. “Sorry,” she whispered. “I didn’t know—”

“No, no,” you replied quietly. “You can come in… She’s a heavy sleeper.” You looked down at the sleepy baby, his heavy little eyes trying to stay open as he fed from your breast. “Oh, um… If it makes you uncomfortable, I can—”

“I’ve seen your tits before, (Y/N).”

Oh.

You’d almost forgotten about that. When you live on the road with someone for so long, and in tight quarters at a place like the prison, you get to know everyone a lot more intimately. In other words, Maggie walked in on you changing or bathing more than once.

“Right,” you laughed under your breath. “Come in, sit down.”

You gestured loosely to the armchair in the corner of the room. It sat beside of a small bedside table, upon which was a gas lamp that gave off a warm, dim glow in the dark morning mist.

“I don’t think I got to properly meet this little one,” she said. “Westley?”

“Mhm… We’ve been calling him Wes for short. Well, Daryl likes to call him scout.”

Maggie smiled, and sometimes you forgot just how beautiful and sweet her smile was. It could light up every room, you didn’t even need that old oil lamp. “That’s cute. Wes lucked out. He was born into a pretty great family.”

“Mm, a big family. So many aunts and uncles… I think Aunt Maggie is going to be a favorite, though.”

She shook her head. “Think Aunt Carol’s got that distinction, least with Robin.”

You reached a hand down to lightly caress Robin’s shoulder over the fleece blanket that Daryl had draped over her before he left. “Give it time,” you said. “Soon you’ll be her hero, I just know it.” You paused to adjust Westley, moving him to the other breast as carefully as you could so not to disturb Robin. “How’s Hershel?”

“He’s all right,” she sighed with a nod. “Sleepin’ like a baby. All of them are. Don’t think they got much sleep since they were taken.”

You didn’t think anyone would get much sleep until all this was over. You knew you wouldn’t. “Poor things. They’ve been through a lot.” You looked down at Wes, who’d now fully fallen asleep in your arms. You smiled and gently maneuvered him so you could button up your blouse. “He was so hungry.”

Maggie nodded solemnly, her serious side coming through again. “They’ll pay,” she said, even more quietly, just in case Robin or the other children stirred in their sleep. “For everything.”

“Maggie,” you said, “you were right not to trust them… I should’ve been more skeptical, I just—”

“You were doing what was best for your family,” she interrupted. “For Robin and the baby. You were thinking about them. Any mom would’ve done it.”

You looked confused, and you were. Wasn’t Maggie a mom too? “But you didn’t.”

“I was just doin’ what I thought was the best thing to do,” she said. “Now here we are, in the exact same place.”

“We’re home,” you said. “Did you ever think… when we came here, all those years ago, that we’d be here right now?”

“No,” she replied with a grin. “It’s so surreal. I—I remember how… how excited Glenn was.”

You remembered it, too. Glenn was one of the first people in your group to want Alexandria to be your home. He believed in it. He was the spark of humanity, reminding you all that you could no longer live on the road, always on the brink of starving and never able to turn your back. He wanted you all to have a home.

Alexandria had been through so much. So many people and so many things had been lost, but what always remained was Alexandria.

“This place is special,” you said. “Glenn saw that.”

“He did… I miss him everyday.”

You untucked a hand from underneath the baby, who stirred a little, but soon settled back into sleep once your hand outstretched to hold Maggie’s. “We all do. He’d be so proud of you, and everything you’ve done.”

She sniffled as she bowed her head, nodding all the while. “You know, you’ve always been my best friend.”

Your face melted into touched surprise. It’d been years since she’d told you that. “You’re my best friend, too… We’ve come a long way since the farm, huh?”

“Yeah,” she laughed. “When you asked Glenn for…” She leaned in closer, whispering even lower. “Condoms.”

“Shh!” you laughed.

“Coulda used a few more, huh?” She nodded her head towards the baby in your arms, and you nudged her with her elbow, shaking your head. You couldn’t help but smile, though.

“Shut up.”

Thanks for reading! Likes, comments, and reblogs of any kind are always appreciated!

Series Masterlist Next Chapter ➳

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athena-writes-i-guess · 3 years ago

Note

Hii! Can i request #32 with Eddie?💓

A/N: Hello friend! Thank you so much for your request! This one was so cute to write! And we usually have Eddie in S4(obviously since we meet him then) but I thought it would be fun to set this at Starcourt Mall before it gets destroyed. So this is set during S3. I hope you like it!

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

Prompt: “Do you have to proclaim your love every time we go out?”

“Okay, remember Eddie. We go in, get the check, and get out. Got it?” You said as the two of you stood in front of the Starcourt Mall. You worked in a music shop there but it was your day off and you wanted to get your check before you and Eddie headed to the 4th of July Fair that you were dragging him to.

“I know baby, but we can’t even stop by and see Steve “The Hair” Harrington in that stupid hat again?” He asked as he grabbed your hand and walked you through the front doors of the large building.

You laughed as you walked with him, leading him through the throngs of excited mall-goers. “Okay, but only real quick!” He sent you a smile as you stood on the escalators leading up to the second level as you talked animatedly about all the games you wanted to play with him at the fair that night. You walked towards Scoops Ahoy, hoping to get a good look at Steve in that ridiculous sailor outfit, but to your surprise it was closed. “Why would they be closed in the middle of the day? Especially on Independence Day?” You questioned, mostly to yourself as you turned back and walked towards the record shop.

“That’s weird, I was hoping to get samples again, they give you as many as you want!” Eddie exclaimed as he draped his arm over your shoulders as you walked.

You made it into your shop and greeted your coworker running the register. “Hey, Y/N. Here’s your check, and also this came in for you.” Mark said as he handed you your check in an envelope and a small bag.

You beamed as you grabbed them, “Thank you! Eddie, I ordered this for you and it finally came in!” You exclaimed as you opened the bag, pulling out the new Megadeth cassette that came out just a few weeks ago. You watched the huge, excited, smile appear on your boyfriend's face, dimples on full display as he grabbed the cassette you handed him.

“Holy shit babe! I’ve been wanting this! Thank you so much, baby.” He said excitedly before grabbing the sides of your face to plant a searing kiss on your lips. “Fuck I love you, sweet thing.” He said adoringly as he looked at your stunning eyes as they shone with happiness.

Eddie pulled back ever so slightly with a sly glint in his eye, taking a deep breath before shouting, “You hear that Starcourt Mall? I love this person right here!” as he pointed at you. You felt yourself flush as you smiled brightly, aware of all the eyes suddenly on the two of you. You heard Mark bark out a laugh as you grabbed Eddie’s hand and pulled him out of the shop as he laughed.

“Do you have to proclaim your love every time we go out?” You joked as you walked with him towards the escalators.

He sent you a huge mischievous smile, “Of course I do babe, the world needs to know about us. In fact, I think the rest of the mall needs to hear too.” He said. He started taking another deep breath when you cut him off by grabbing him by the collar of his vest and crashing your lips on his as you rode down the escalator. You felt him smile against you as he kissed you back enthusiastically, enthralled by the softness of your lips, “You’re going to have to keep kissing me if you want me to stop, babe.” He said with a grin as you both pulled back when you reached the bottom.

“I can do that Eds.” You smiled, shooting him a wink as you pulled him towards the doors.

Taglist: @srapalestina

@yvonneeeee

@cityofidek

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necronatural · 2 years ago

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Yaoi Essay: It was Ice Age Okay

My friend @tshirt3000 organized a friend zine where we talk about yaoi that was formative to us. It's a sizeable 80 pages, and you can read everyone's formative yaois in the digital copy here.

My essay was written in a single night and primarily primes you to pattern-seek so you can see my vision. My divine truth.

Before I speak, I need to prime you with the knowledge that you understand me. Even if you think you don’t, you actually do. So.

In seminal AO3 fandombait television program Teen Wolf (2011), the main point of fascination is Stiles Stilinski; a doe-eyed ADHD obsessive who chases his every thought with a frenetic intensity that often steals the scene he’s in.

Stiles being a fascinating little creature means that people want to ship him. I’d say he has three main people to do that with, and the big ship on campus was none of them. It was practically mandatory to ship him with Derek, the dark, brooding werewolf anti-hero.

I don’t think the suffocating pervasiveness of this ship is really that deep. Derek is a sexy paranormal tall dark and handsome boytoy. I’ve never seen the Vampire Diaries but I’m sure he wouldn’t be out of place in the cast. And hey, everybody is already obsessed with Stiles. I don’t think people actually care about the text of the show, just the pretty men they’re fixated on. The shit they made in their heads is so obviously just a gay version of every romance ever at the time.

But there is a secret recipe at play. Because in 2011, alongside Teen Wolf, a film was released. It was called Thor. You know, from the MCU? In Thor, the titular character’s treacherous baby brother (adopted) imprisons Thor on earth to steal his position. On Earth, Thor meets the love of his life, her father, and a zany bit character added for comedic relief.

Now I love Loki an abnormal amount for someone who cares as little about the MCU as I do. I love pathetic men and pathetic villains. As an avid fanfiction reader, I spent a lot of time trawling AO3 for Loki content, realizing they don’t think he’s pathetic, and clicking away. And over the years, I began seeing a weird pattern. Loki/Darcy. The comic relief girl. Her quirky antics were somehow enough to warrant a ship in a fandom that only blows up mandatory Two White Guys couples. And Loki is clearly NOT a brooding paranormal romance boy, but the ship had that Sterek stink on it anyway. A lot of it.

It seemed so mysterious, yet I remember, now, that Sterek wasn’t just popular with paranormal romance swooners, but people who just like funny ships. A zany idiot tormenting that brooding villain. A genderless mass appeal. An Entrapta and Hordak. The raw impulse for Omniscient Reader’s Viewpoint readers to pair Kim Dokja and Yoo Joonghyeok before they started developing any chemistry at all, simply by nature of the kinds of characters they are.

Okay. Listen man. I need to talk to you about Ice Age.

If you’re unfamiliar, Ice Age is about a cynical mammoth named Manford taking a great southern migration as a chance to be alone. When he rescues criminally annoying sloth Sid, he’s forced to share his newfound alone time with him. He is not happy. Meanwhile, a pack of sabertooth tigers is on a vengeance quest against the humans who hunt them by eating their tribe leader’s baby. One of them, Diego, accidentally lets the human mother jump off a waterfall to escape, delivering the baby downriver to Manny and Sid. Diego presents himself as a tracker who can hunt the humans down, and the three of them decide to travel together to bring the baby back to the humans, one way or another.

I will be clear; the homoeroticism exists, and it exists between Manny and Sid. The chemistry exists, and it exists between Manny and Diego. Manny is the heart of the film. And I don’t care. Baby’s First Yaoi, the thing that really boiled my brain, was Diego’s extremely intimate threats to Sid’s life and Sid baiting him like a barking dog. I’m sorry.

The film never really stops insisting that Sid is genuinely annoying — it starts with his entire family leaving him behind and ends with him being kind of a fuckup too — but he’s key to the synergy regardless. There’s no great moment that announces ‘well maybe they weren’t seeing Sid’s true value!’ because he doesn’t have any. He’s a lazy, annoying, unempathetic, impulsive, smug little womanizer. He never learns. The film proposes that well, he doesn’t really have to— Manny is a deeply isolated person (mammoth?) who drives people away, and he needs someone who’s annoying and can’t understand boundaries to teach him to open up again. No matter how much he swats Sid back, Sid is confident in their friendship. Just like how no matter how many times Sid’s family abandoned him, he still went looking for them. They are lonely people, and Sid being an obnoxious little pissant forces them together.

On the other hand, I can’t imagine a film with just Manny and Diego. They get along well and have a great rapport, with Diego’s bad boy fun uncle attitude and Manny’s asshole with a heart of gold routine. But the thing is that they are two dudes who mind their own business. They are only casually uniting, and Diego is only doing it so his pack of evil sabertooths can eat the baby. The warmth of friendship doesn’t exist, and it has to bleed from Sid terrorizing them. They need their idiot to unite against. And since they don’t actually dislike Sid, it can only become camaraderie.

Diego is aware Manny is a smart guy and will take any threat extremely seriously, but he acts like himself from the beginning with Sid. After a while, it becomes clear Manny doesn’t care if he threatens Sid — because Sid is annoying, and he himself has threatened Sid plenty of times — but he also doesn’t intend to leave Sid alone where he can get hurt. Diego is 100% serious, but after a certain point he finds his own threats also becoming empty teasing. By the end of the movie, he’s openly endeared and friendly. He gives death threats like he gives a noogie.

There is something so unreal, to be honest, about forcing a born killer to hold you in his teeth after he repeatedly threatened to kill you, and him holding you there against your will because he thinks it is so funny.

Diego’s heel-face turn is obviously inspired by Manny, but over the course of the film, it’s clear that he, too, was lonely, and he, too, benefits from an extremely annoying person filling his loner life. His pack is dog-eat-dog, ready to abandon him if he doesn’t do his job, but Manny is willing to die for him, and — this is key to my childhood brain — Sid trusts him unconditionally despite doing nothing to earn it. Sid would follow Diego all year if he suddenly abandoned him for migration. He is just that kind of person.

That’s the secret recipe. What made Sterek mandatory even for people who have no interest in paranormal romance hunks. Why Darcy was thrown at Loki. This underlying vein of True Yaoi, of a dynamic based less on actual relationship and more on the core of the kind of people they are, and the kind of synthesis that is possible between those two ingredients. The zany idiot and the villain have this chemical reaction you could see from space. TO ME!

You need a zany person to do a whole lot of impulsive shit, and you need that zany person to be stupid enough to not notice they’re unwanted, or in danger, or that their dynamic is shifting, or the subtext of anyone’s behaviour. You need the person tormented to be a genuine threat, and they need to not melt, but be worn down. The simple pleasures of having your day-to-day life filled with life and noise, your every interaction with the world commented on, to the point you allow yourself to be defanged.

Sid does this to Manny, sure but it didn’t click even with the gay jokes because Manny is a kind, caring Dad Friend kind of guy who would fold for anyone. Diego is a fucking baby-eating tiger. But he trusts Manny, and Manny is endeared and receptive to Sid’s constant noise because he is lonely, and because of that, Diego, who is also lonely, allows himself to be endeared too. He had Sid’s throat in his mouth, and all he thought was that it was a funny thing to do.

My friend Hyde tagged me in this post.

#yaoi zine #wheeeeeeeee

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supermarvel-fics · 3 years ago

Text

Tickletober Day 27: Hiding

fandom: marvel

word count: 830

pairing: peter 1 x reader (platonic)

summary: peter keeps scaring you and so you finally get revenge on him.

You adored Peter Parker. Really, you did. There was something about his energy, his excitement to be involved, that always had you smiling and feeling grateful that you were part of this band of heroes. You were happy that he was happy.

But you’d be lying if you didn’t admit that you were completely and utterly annoyed with him at the moment.

Halloween was just a few days away and Tony had vehemently denied the kid a party. Peter was obviously disappointed, but understood that the majority of the Avengers had duties to take care of. Enemies don’t go dormant just because its Halloween.

So, to make up for the fact that he wouldn’t have a party to fuel his holiday excitement, he began scaring people. He’d hide behind corners and couches, under desks and beds just to startle someone by grabbing their leg or jumping out at them. Peter was good at it, too, because he was Spiderman for Christ’s sake—he knew how to be stealthy.

At first, it was funny. Hearing Bucky and Thor scream like girls was possibly the highlight of your day. Even when he targeted you, you could find a good laugh out of it. But then it went on for another week and you were starting to become anxious that Peter was hiding around every corner.

This morning, though, you knew you’d be safe. Peter had been bragging all week about an event he was doing at school, so he wouldn’t be in the tower for the entire day. You sighed in relief as you woke up, ready to tackle the day without the looming fear of being scared.

You completed your routine as normal; eating breakfast, training with Steve, relaxing with a good book. It was the perfect day. Well, it had been until you felt something scratch at the sole of the foot that had been dangling off the couch.

You screamed bloody murder—both from surprise and from how bad it had tickled—pulling your foot into yourself and scooting back into the corner of the sofa. In your struggle, your book had been thrown across the room, revealing to you a smirking Peter Parker.

“I didn’t know you were ticklish!” He said with raised eyebrows and a mischievous lilt to his tone. Catching your breath, you scowled at him.

“What the hell, Peter! You’re not even supposed to be here!”

Peter stood to his full height from where was squatted on the floor and shrugged. “I wasn’t, but the thing got cancelled because of the rain.”

“And so you decided to scare the ever-living shit out of me instead?!” You berated him, trying to control your breathing to get your heart-rate back down to normal. Peters reaction did the opposite. He grinned smugly and reached over to pinch your kneecaps.

“It was the best reaction I’ve gotten so far. I can’t believe you’re ticklish!”

You barked out a laugh, then practically growled in anger. You weren’t shrugging this off as easily as you did in the past. You were determined to teach him a lesson. Peter’s hand was lingering near your leg, so without a second thought, you pulled it towards you, sending him falling onto the couch beside you.

With little to no effort, you had him pressed face down to the couch, his hands pinned against his lower back with one of yours.

“I let this little game go on way too long, Peter,” You uttered out with a rasp to your voice. You placed your free hand on the boy’s side. “Let’s not forget how ticklish you are.”

You sprung into action, squeezing harshly at his torso. In normal combat conditions, Peter was a bit stronger than you and was able to get out of most holds that weren’t made by enhanced individuals, but tickling Peter was the one way to weaken him. He fell limp against the couch, pressing his face into the cushions to muffle his loud laughter.

“WAHAIT! OKAHAY, OKAY, OKAY!” Peter shouted. You shifted up to his ribs, getting dangerously close to his worst spot. “AHHHAHA! OKAY! I’M SOHORRY!”

“Are you gonna stop scaring me?” You asked without relenting. Peter nodded fervently, unable to reply due to the how hard he was laughing. “Thank you, but let me show you what will happen if you go back on your word.

As quick as you could, your fingers shot into the space under his arm, sending the teen into immediate hysterics. You wiggled them around for a few seconds before releasing him completely, patting him on the back to let him know you were done with your revenge.

“I-hi won’t scare you agahain, I swear,” He hiccoughed, pushing himself upright and blushing as he caught your gaze. “I can scare the others, though, right?”

You genuinely laughed in delight, poking his side for good measure. “Yes, Pete. I love it when you sneak up on Bucky. I’ll even help you this time.”

#marvel #marvel tickle #mcu #tickle prompts #tickle fic #lee!peter1 #ticklish!peter #ticklish!peter1 #ler!reader #peter 1 #peter parker #peter parker 1 #ticklish!reader #augtickletober2022 #tickletober prompts #tickletober2022

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crackheadgeminibby · 4 years ago

Note

Could you write something 'bout Chris congratulating yn in public and privately 'cause it's mother's day and she's dodger's mom? 🥺

mother's day

pairing: chris evans x female!black!reader

warnings: age gap, language, fluff

word count: 1.5k

a/n: i love this idea so much, thanks for giving me the opportunity to write it🤍

i do not consent to my work being copied in any way, shape or form or reposted on any other platform

picture credit: @chrisevans on instagram

You groan softly, before turning around and stopping your alarm.

It’s Sunday, which normally meant no alarm and sleeping in, but you had plans. Today is Mother’s Day. You normally spent it with your mother going out for brunch, shopping, going to the movies, etc. but in the last year, you had moved in with Chris and he lived really far away from your parents’ house. You had told your mom that you were going to call her, first thing this morning, to make up for not being able to be with her.

Since you were in Boston with Chris, you were going to be spending Mother’s Day at his mom’s house. This meant a big dinner, but it also meant you had to make some food to take it there.

Every single time you went to Lisa’s house, you always brought something whether it was a meal, dessert, wine or a gift. And every single time you brought something, she said you didn’t have to do that. You couldn’t help it though; it was just how you were raised. Your parents always told you to never show up empty-handed when someone invited you to their home and that’s exactly what you did.

Today, you were making apple pie for dessert which meant fresh apples and going to the grocery store right at the opening.

Rubbing your eyes, you push the covers off your body and walk to the ensuite bathroom. While brushing your teeth, you take your phone and open Instagram. The first post you see is one that Scott posted a couple of minutes ago. The first picture is a collage of a bunch of pictures of him and his mom. You smile softly at their smiles in the pictures. Sliding, you see other collages with pictures of Scott’s friends and their kids. You double-click on the post, leaving a like, and slide down to the second post. Of course, it’s Chris’ post to his mom. The first picture is an old picture of them holding each other and smiling. You slide and see that the second picture is from when he took her to the Winter Soldier premiere. You double-click again, liking the post. You’re about to put your phone down to take a shower but see a bunch of notifications appearing on your screen.

Confused, you refresh your Instagram feed and see a new post by Chris appearing at the top. You frown, seeing yourself from the back in the first picture. You slide down to the caption and gasp softly as you read it: “Also, happy Mother’s Day to this beautiful woman! We may not have any babies but you sure as hell are Dodger’s mom. Kinda hate that he likes you more than me now but it’s okay because I love you💙”

You smile as you go through the pictures he posted. The first one is a picture you didn’t even know he had taken from when Dodger, Chris and you had gone on a picnic a couple of days ago. The second is a pretty dark and blurry picture that he obviously hid to take. You recognize the angle being from the entrance of the living room. You were laying on the couch, engulfed in a fluffy blanket, with Dodger laying in front of you, his head resting on your stomach. You smile softly, remembering that day.

It was a couple of months ago and you were on your period. You normally didn’t have really big cramps but the stress you were feeling had intensified them and you were almost unable to move. When Chris had come back from work, seeing you laying on the couch in pain, he had gone right back out to get you a bunch of food to satisfy your cravings and half a dozen hot compresses because he wasn’t sure which one you would like.

Chuckling softly, you slide to the last picture, slightly cringing at your appearance. It was a screenshot from a FaceTime call, right after you had moved in with Chris. He had to leave for a few weeks to film and you were alone with Dodger, who always wanted to see Chris before you hung up. In the picture, you had clearly just woken up and were laughing, probably at something Chris said, with half of Dodger’s face mid-bark in the frame.

You like the post and scroll through a couple of comments, some nice, others not so much, before putting your phone down.

While in the shower, your mind goes back to a conversation you had with Chris recently. It was after your first big fight.

Everyone knew Chris wanted kids and you obviously did too. But he had brought it up accusingly when you were exhausted and anxious and you had blurted out that you didn’t want kids. It wasn’t really the truth because you did want kids. And you wanted them with Chris, but you weren’t ready. After you had said that, you had a screaming match with Chris that ended up with you sleeping in the guest room, not that much sleeping was done. Halfway through the night, Chris had knocked on the door, asking if you were awake, and you talked to each other, explaining both of your viewpoints: you felt like you weren’t ready to be a good mom to a child because you were still dealing with trauma from when you were younger, and Chris felt like his clock was running out. After talking to each other, you had settled on kids in the near future, but not right now.

Getting dressed after your shower, you think about the fact that you hadn’t heard a peep from Chris since you had woken up. Considering it was Sunday and Mother’s Day, you knew he couldn’t have scheduled a meeting today. He sometimes ran or worked out on Sundays, but you had been up for almost 2 hours now.

Walking to the kitchen, you open your Messages app, ready to send him a text asking where he is when you hear, “Dodge, stop, let it go.”

Frowning, you start deleting the message when you hear, “Happy Mother’s Day!”

You shriek, startled, before letting out, “Holy shit!”

You look up at the dining room that is completely decorated. There are colorful banners all around the walls and the table is filled with food from waffles and pancakes to fruits and drinks. Finally, Chris and Dodger are standing in the corner of the room in front of balloons that spell out “MMO❤️”. You frown, tilting your head. Chris’s smile falters as he turns around, groaning, “Dodger, I told you to stop moving the balloons.”

He turns around completely, arranging the balloons to say “MOM❤️” and turns back around, saying, “Ta-da!”

You laugh loudly before walking to Chris, hugging him.

“When did you have time to do all this?”

Chris smiles, holding your waist, before yawning and saying, “I got up at like 6 to make all the food and then I got the balloons when the mall opened at 8.”

You wrap your arms around Chris before kissing his cheek.

“Well, thank you, I love it. And I love you.”

You bite your bottom lip, flicking your eyes down to his lips, before leaning towards him. Chris smirks, letting his hand slide to your butt cheek, softly squeezing it before you hear a small whine. You stop moving, slowly looking down. Dodger looks up at you with his big brown eyes, rubbing his snout on your leg.

You smile softly, letting go of Chris before bending down and petting his head.

“You want some love too, huh, Dodge?”

You rub the back of Dodger’s ears, hearing a click sound. You turn around, seeing Chris with his phone in his hand. You smile, saying, “Did you just take a picture?”

Chris smiles softly, “No?”

You chuckle, sitting down and gesturing at Chris to join you. Chris takes one of your hands in his and pets Dodger with the other. You alternate looking at Chris and Dodger before sighing and cupping Chris’ face in your hands. You kiss him softly, leaning back and saying, “I love you, baby.”

Chris smiles softly, replying, “I love you too.”

You look down, sighing softly. Chris lifts your head up, giving you a knowing look, “What’s wrong, baby?”

You chuckle at how perfectly he knows you.

“I know I said I wasn’t ready, but I think maybe I am.”

Chris’ smile widens slowly before he says, “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

You nod your head excitedly and Chris lunges at you, tackling you to the ground, planting kisses all over your face. You laugh softly, hearing Dodger bark, before he excitedly starts jumping around Chris and you.

Chris leans back slightly before whispering, “You’re gonna be the best mom, I just know it.”

You smile softly, kissing his cheek and wrapping your arms around him.

#chris evans #chris evans x black!reader #chris evans x reader #chris evans imagine #chris evans fanfic #chris evans x black reader #chris evans x female reader #chris evans x woc #chris evans fanfictions #chris evans fanfics

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katsukikitten · 4 years ago

Text

Hello friends! Here is my contribution to the Bakugou Birthday Bash! The master link will be linked here ! Please enjoy my bit of an angsty fic! And all of the other art and works that are on the master list! Enjoy the big bakugou blow out and remember to leave a comment on your favorite pieces! Happy birthday ya shitty man! (Lowkey become 3d please)

Warning: he's 28 btw 😂 (my fic says so also)

It shouldn't be this fucking hard to get groceries and booze. It's a quick and easy errand. Everything already pre-ordered for an important birthday that just needed to be picked up. And yet here you were crying in your car trying to get it together before the attendant asked for the order name. Honestly you had texted out "I can't do this today. Sorry." Several times before deleting it, telling yourself not to hit send. But you would have to be having the worst mental day of your life wouldn't you? Today of all days, how fucking selfish of you.

Especially with the amount of time and effort you and Kirishima had put into this idea. Since New Year's actually, months and months of planning after the two of you had gotten shit faced at Denki and Mina's new years party, creating the brain child. All after bonding over switching patrol partners six months before, you had gotten Bakugou and he had gotten Ashido. Kirishima and yourself giggle over stupid things to the side of the party, people watching as you took shots. Kirishima points towards a normally grumpy blonde.

"Wow I think he's actually having fun." You snort, as you watch Bakugou hide his rare cat smile behind a sip of his beer as Mina makes Denki the butt of a joke.

"He actually loves parties. He never says it so people just think he's a wet blanket." Kirishima laughs, pouring the two of you another shot. Bakugou lets out a particularly loud laugh after 'Dunce Face' proves Mina's point. I guess that would be the time that it started.

When you started to fall. His laugh makes your cheeks deepen in hue and burn, to want to hear it again, to watch it again and learn all of the other sides of your patrol partner that he obviously only reserved for his closest friends.

"Let's throw him a great birthday party." You say, holding up your shot as a devilish smile spreads over sharp teeth. The mountainous man clinks your shot glass before he adds.

"Let's." In unison the two of you down the burning liquid as the plan comes into fruition.

Four months, four months and nineteen days of you thinking of nothing but your patrol partner with whom you got extremely close with since New Year's. So why? Why today of all days were you struggling? Why would normal everyday tasks feel more as if you were wading through mud than the breeze they should have been? You flip down the visor, looking yourself in the eye through little square mirror as you grit your teeth hissing

"Get your shit together."

Your little pep talk helps you get the several cakes and the cart full of booze that everyone requested, planning to make this the best birthday ever. Helping Kirishima set his house up with decorations, setting out the snacks, catering and even pouring some drinks as guests began to arrive to set down their gifts and help with the last minute touches before hiding. Masking through the pit in your stomach as you smiled at all of your friends as they poured in through Kirishima's door. Through the weighted emptiness you felt as each one wrapped you into a tight hug, already praising you and Kirishima for the amazing effort, that Bakugou would be so surprised when it was more than just you and Kirishima here. . Finally you had to go and get the guest of honor just before sundown to catch him before he went to bed. A much needed breather from the constant smiling and forcing a laugh that everyone thought sounded genuine.

Enjoying the silence of the evening train as it pulled you across town to the unsuspecting blonde. And maybe you could have made it through the night from your shitty pep talk or at least through getting the freshly 28 year old to his party but instead you catch your reflection in the window. Your facial features weighted with exhaustion, shoulders hunched allowing your body to continue to produce cortisol. Tears prick your eyes as you deep low, too low. Remembering everything and nothing all at once, steeping in guilt as you beg yourself for just a few more hours. That the depression episode can happen when you're home and alone, after the party goes off without a hitch. Tears fall anyway and they do all the way to Bakugou's until you finally get enough control to step out of yourself for a moment. Ringing the doorbell several times as a smile is plastered on your face, the door swings open. Bakugou's eyes narrow as they take you in, he notices that something is off. Your smile is a little too wide, your eyes rimmed red but he says nothing about it. Instead he lets his initial anger come forth.

"Oi! I told you to fuckin' text me when you were on the train so I could meet you at the station!" He growls, slamming his door shut and pocketing his keys. Deadly and sweaty hands deep in the pockets of his leather jacket as his palms itch to hold onto something else. Garnet eyes track your own hands as you reach over your head stretching.

"Yea yea, I hear you Dad." You tease giving him a look, "I still made it okay."

"Kirishima should have come instead of you that fuckin hair for brains." He snarls keeping pace with you as he always does on patrol.

"I know Dad must be sad cause his favorite didn't come to pick him up." You try not to sound dejected, nudging him in the ribs to distract from the crack in your voice, "Happy birthday ya big lug."

Bakugou cuts you a glare, mind racing before his barks out a "Thanks."

Comfortable silence stretches between the two of you before you two hit the train station, passing a corner store.

"Was shitty hair burning dinner? Do I need to stop for back up?" His thumb hooks over his shoulder towards the neon as he stands idle waiting for you to jog your memory. Kirishima had burned the last friend's dinner making Bakugou so angry he walked six blocks to make something that was 'FUCKIN EDIBLE!' while you tried to air out his apartment. You laugh loudly, genuinely for the first time that day causing Bakugou's shoulders to sag with relief. In the ten months he had been working with you he had only seen you faking a smile or laugh once or twice. Then the time after that you were absent from work the next day or two forcing him to patrol with Denki but worse yet...making him worry.

"Guess I'll grab something just in case." He gave you his back so you wouldn't see his face or the faint blush that dusted his cheeks.

"No, no! I ordered out this time. From that famous chef you like." Bakugou glares your way, digging in his back pocket for his wallet.

"How much." He demands through gritted teeth while you show him the palms of your hands in surrender.

"Woah woah! It's your birthday gift! You can't pay me back for dinner! I'd sooner burn the money before I'd accept it from you!" Your watch dings with a message from Kirishima asking for an ETA. You grab onto Bakugou's hand pulling him along into a run as you shout over your shoulder.

"We're gonna be late!"

Oh how Bakugou wished you hadn't done that, he was already struggling to keep his heart beat even when you were around and now to grab onto him. To pull him along in a hurry like those cheesy insta posts that couples did on their "grand adventure" together. He swallows the lump in his throat as he reminds himself that you are nothing more than his patrol partner. His friend at best.

Even though the train was mostly empty Bakugou stood closely by you, as he always did when the two of you were in a crowded space. He had seen how most men took advantage of the situation and he hated the idea of that happening to you although he knew you were more than capable of handling it on your own. Hell you could kick even his ass but he would die before ever admitting that. Instead he watches you talk about what you ordered for dinner and how you got the cake from that bakery Sato works part time at, the same one he got your birthday cake from but he doesn't hear a word. Instead all he can see is the golden light from the setting sun worshiping you. Kissing your skin to make it glow, giving your eyes a hue that makes his heart fall into his stomach and illuminating you in a true light. A radiant ethereal thing is what you were and Bakugou was just lucky enough to be standing by you. So out of it he doesn't realize the two of you are at your stop.

"Uh Suki?" Your voice is soft paired with the setting sun has him acting weird. He leans closer to you, pulled by some invisible force before he stops himself as he watches you look up at him beneath long lashes.

"You okay?" You ask almost nervously from his proximity, the smell of spice and caramel wrap around you making you feel warm and fuzzy. Temporarily making you forget that you were trying to act on the train, making you relax as you just talked to Bakugou. He sucks his teeth as he picks up your bag to sling over his shoulder.

"Yea but you were gonna forget your whole damn purse like you always do." He huffs, this time he was the one pulling at your hand in a rush before the doors closed to trap you two on the train. His hand feels warm in yours, his grip tight as he drags you along before pulling you within his sight, another habit of his you happened to notice. Almost reluctantly he lets go of you hand as Kirishima's house comes into view.

"We better have a good time tonight patrol Princess or you owe me a special birthday gift." He laughs causing you to roll your eyes at his stupid nickname that stuck after your first day with him, adamant that the two of you take your route instead of his it was a huge argument. But it was a good thing he listened to the "princess", it put the two of you smack dab in the middle of a robbery. You stick out your tongue.

"Trust me. You're gonna have a good time!" You push him up the steps as he bats away your hands. Opening the front door before everyone jumps out of various and bad hiding spots.

"SURPRISE!!" All of the alumni of class A and some of B shout, a select few already slurring their words. Bakugou's scowl turns into a smirk before he looks over his shoulder at you.

"Aw you did this to me?" His voice is teasing but his eyes almost sparkle, you nod encouraging him to go deeper into the party. As he does people flock to him laughing and yelling out happy birthday until he's sick of hearing it. All the while your smile wanes with the night. Until an hour in that heavy episode hits you full force. Numbness setting in where happiness should be, rotting as it turns to shame and guilt as you watch your friend, your crush, enjoy his night. Bringing a glass bottle to his lips as he talks with Kirishima, who then presses a shot into his hands. Bodies dancing to the house music that beat out of the speakers competing with chatter and laughter.

It felt weird to watch everyone truly enjoying themselves while you felt low. It felt more as if you were standing outside of the house, looking in through the window to see everyone enjoying themselves, no one even knowing who you were as you stared in.

You felt distant, alone. What a shitty way to feel in a room full of people, none of it being their fault and so the guilt pressed harder. Eyes watering as they lingered on the blonde who deserved this celebration and more. Making you decide to give the best birthday gift of them all.

To slip away upstairs and onto the roof, to give the room space to breathe when you felt like suffocating.

Crying to no one but the moon.

And no one noticed. Two hours slip by before Kirishima insists that Bakugou make a wish and eat cake before everyone gets too drunk too. The entire house drunkenly sings happy birthday but Bakugou notices a voice missing. Yours that's just a touch off key, not to mention he didn't hear you say the stupid nickname 'Suki' where his name should be in the song. Plus you weren't one to miss out on dessert. For as long as Bakugou has been working with you, you never turned down the opportunity for sweets. Whether that was taking the long way back to the agency to try to catch a certain street vendor or to hover by the deserts at a party to pick the very best treat.

And if it was a birthday party, you never could shut up that y'all could not leave until after they blew out the candles and made a wish.

His eyes linger for a second longer, making sure he didn't miss you before his heart sinks. He takes in a sharp inhale, thinks on his wish and blows out the candles.

Meanwhile you hear the cheers of everyone down stairs and sob into your knees. You missed your favorite part of birthdays. Of hoping they make a wish that comes true, of watching their face as they think of something quickly or how some people tear up when they finally realize just how loved they are on their birthday.

It isn't long after that do you hear the sound of combat boots on shingles. Whipping your head up in the direction of the sound. Stomach clenching with guilt as you watch Bakugou walking towards you with a slice of cake.

"Brought ya some cake, since I didn't hear you sing off key to me." He says sinking down beside you as you furiously wipe at your tears.

"I'm-um."

"You don't gotta explain yourself to me." He snarls as you stare dumbly at your cake, "You know that."

"I know…" Silence passes slowly, the moon shines overhead and the party carries on below.

"Well, I'm waiting!" Bakugou says dramatically, "You gonna sing or am I gonna have to sing to myself?"

"Oh." It makes you giggle a bit before you blush, realizing he is serious. You take a deep breath before singing "just off key" when you don't, to him.

"Sukiiiiii!" Relief washes over his features when he hears the dumb ass name, "Happy birthday to youuuuuu!"

"Okay, now you can eat the damn cake." He grunts, his smile never wavering as he looks to the empty street below. You follow his eyes, chewing the inside of your lip, setting the cake down.

"What'd you wish for…" Curiosity gets the better of you and earns his intense gaze. He smirks, scoffing at the end.

"You always say you shouldn't tell or it won't come true." He laughs at your pout, before he finally admits "I wished for courage."

With a furrowed brow you give him a puzzled look, he just holds your gaze.

"Why? You're like the bravest hero I know!" Bakugou can hear the truth in your voice, you aren't saying it just to fucking stroke his ego.

You actually meant it, making this conversation that much harder.

"Yea except when it comes to this one thing I want to do. Its fuckin easy and I've done it hundreds of times just as I'm about to do it I fucking back down cause I'm probably fuckin reading into things too much." He leans in closer, again his smell mesmerizes you, causing your body to visibly relax, "Too much of a fuckin bitch, thinking she doesn't want me like I want her. So I wished for the courage to follow through. To fuckin' just do it."

Your heart is racing out of your chest before one of his hands finds the nape of your neck pulling you into a feverish kiss. Teeth gnashing from the passion, lips perfectly modeling to the other before tongues lightly dance around one another. Lengthening seconds into hours with just a few head tilts and plush lips. You moan into his mouth, he pulls away, eyes clouded with lust as a string of spit connects your tongues. He pants, face flushed and his hand warm, almost burning at the nape of your neck, the shingle by his hand charred from restraint as he pants out.

"I wished for you."

#bakugou x reader #bakugou birthday bash #bnha x reader #bakugo x reader #bnha au #bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugo #bnha imagine #bakugou birthday

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hobidreams · 4 years ago

Text

november 1869.

to remember what has been lost; to protect what still remains.

pairing: joseon king!yoongi x reader genre: drama. words: 2.4k contains: descriptions of blood/death, a reckoning.

moonlit throne index. this is drabble 26. start from the beginning?

Before Queen Jeonghui’s tomb, you stand with hands bowed in reverence, mind laden with warm memories as sticks of incense burn above your fingertips.

“We all miss you, daebi-mama. I hope you are resting well,” you murmur, letting the smoke mingle with your breath in the air as you bow, deeply. “Happy birthday.”

A little ways away, the single guard that accompanies you is also offering his thoughts to the raised, grassy mound that the queen lies beneath. You’re glad it’s Myungho to come with you today. He’s a good man, one who allows you as much freedom as possible. He understands your need to escape sometimes. Nearby, the horses you rode here are grazing on the field, quietly snorting as their tails swish from side to side.

As you look upon the tomb, you wonder wistfully if mother has found the queen in the spirit world. If they’re playing the game of janggi they so loved in life, when both could find the rare time to continue their decade-long (friendly) rivalry while indulging in cups of strong, dark tea. The thought brings a smile to your face even as fresh tears fall at the remembrance.

In your peripheral vision, you see a swish of fabric, the sign of someone approaching. You give one last bow and slot your incense in the traditional tray, realizing it must be time to leave before it gets too cold and your limbs begin to freeze even under the layers of clothes. You must go back eventually, you know it, but that doesn’t make it easier.

But when you turn, the man that stands beside you wears royal robes — the scarlet fabric and golden dragons unmistakable.

“Jeonha?”

The king’s face holds only sorrow as he holds matching incense in his hands. Staring straight ahead, he bends into a bow, dipping his head repeatedly low, low, lower until he’s almost on the dying, waterlogged grass with it, the lit grey tips flickering in the wind as they are nearly doused from the force of his movements. He bites his lip hard, so hard he draws blood as he punishes his own legs with the bows but he doesn’t stop.

You watch him with emotion clinging to your throat, but you swallow the questions you want to ask as you swipe at your wet cheeks. Why are you here? Why did you change your mind? How are you? Are you okay? All these impertinent questions are for you, to satisfy your own curiosity, and that’s not what he needs right now.

Quietly, steadily, you wait until he has finally stuck in the incense in the memorial ash. You wait until he opens his eyes, red-rimmed as they are, and finds your gaze.

“I… decided at the last moment,” he murmurs. “You… were right. I had to see her.”

You nod. Think you understand everything else he means as well, even if he’s left it unspoken. “Me too.”

“She would have liked that you’re here.”

That simple sentence threatens another wave of nostalgia and longing. You let it pull you under. Sink yourself into it. The mourning, the grief. And the love. The love that was there. The love that still remains, the traces of it held in you both. Your fingers twitch with a sudden, daring want to take his hand. To meet your palms and find the warmth and the life pulse that beats so closely, so resolutely just beneath the surface despite all this pain and all this loss. If you could just reach out. If you could just take another risk…

“Jeonha, run!”

The scream comes from the hill behind you. You both whirl.

The head of the royal guard comes running over with his sword drawn. His teeth are grit, hair blown from the wind that sweeps through the grass, rippling. His blade is already stained with a color that makes your stomach lurch at the implication.

“Hoseok— What’s going on?” The king yells back.

“Rebels! An ambush. We don’t have enough men!”

These few seconds are all the warning you get.

An incredible roar of voices comes exploding up and then you see them. The thick crowd of men that come surging over the hill, fighting their way towards you. The unforgettable clatter of metal on metal desecrates this once-sacred ground. Your legs go soft as you panic, scrambling. You’re trying not to watch as guards and rebels alike are cut down, but the enemies are steadily advancing still. What should you do? Where should you go?

“Myungho, get the horses!” The king barks out. But one look at the steeds tells you that they’re frightened, rearing back as men descend upon them. They’re off, running away on instinct to preserve their own lives while damning yours.

“Jeonha, what are your orders?” Myungho’s grip on his weapon is tight.

“Go. Help Hoseok.”

“Yes, jeonha!”

But as the battle wears on, the dread in you only grows. The king’s men are skilled, but it seems there were only a few to begin with. They are overwhelmed by sheer numbers, yelling for jeonha to escape but he doesn’t move. You don’t know what to do. You are at a complete loss, standing beside him with fingers growing steadily numb. You have to do something. You— You can’t just let it end here, at the hands of these men bellowing with violence and anger and pain.

“Jeonha, w-we have to run,” you stutter, forcing yourself to move, tugging at the fabric of his robes. But when you look back at the opposite side, your only escape route, a throng of rebels come scattering across the grass. Cutting you off; rendering you helpless.

“Myungho, cover the rear!” Hoseok spits out as he takes down another three by himself, the quick whip of his blade reflecting a beam of sun. But even he, with two other guards in front, cannot hold all of them off, though there are less of the rebels now that remain standing.

Caught in the middle, you can only watch your allies strain and sweat. In your heart, you promise desperately that you heal them in the end, if only they will hold on now.

With an awful cry, one of the guards hits the ground and a rebel uses that chance. Breaks through the line of defense and charges right towards you both.

“Fuck the king!” He yells, his face smeared with dirt, his sword raised as his bare feet trip upon the grass but he just keeps coming somehow and you have no weapons and you have no shields but the very first instinct, the most primal one you have is to throw yourself in front of the king and take his pain for him and—

Hoseok dispatches the rebel from behind just as you move a single step forward.

“You…” The king’s voice is hoarse. His eyes are wide with shock as he stares at you, at what you just did. Then he’s shoving you aside and stooping to pick up the abandoned sword from the ground.

You realize what he means when he sweeps up his sleeves, adjusts his grip on the worn handle. “Wait, no, jeonha, you cannot—”

“Stay behind me.”

“I cannot allow you to—”

“Do not argue with me.”

Again, he leaves you with no choice but to watch his back.

Fear pounds away in your body like a thousand drums, thunder booming through the pulse of your clenched heart in your ears as the king takes a first brutal swing at an enemy. Somewhat out of practice against the towering man, he’s shoved back by the sheer force of the clash, feet skidding across the wet grass but he refuses to yield. Stubborn as he always is, he rushes in again only to be pushed back. Again.

The king tilts his blade, slices it quick only to have one sent right back at him, barely missing his shoulder by an inch. He doesn’t even flinch as he stands firm. Adapts in the moment and tries a new strategy, a new tactic that has him spinning, robes fluttering in the winter air as his shuddering breath comes out in a puff of white and ends in a fury of red. And again. And again until finally, finally, only the strongest of the rebels remain standing with the few allies you left, along with your brutal, bloodied king.

Before you, all the men are panting, open mouthed, every last one of them desperate for a victory that spells the doom of the other.

“Come on then,” the king goads, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand in a show of nonchalance even though he’s obviously fatigued. “Attack.”

“You little shit!”

This man is enormous, easily a head above the king and he’s strong, muscles bulging from his torn tunic as he thrusts the sword ahead with surprising speed. The quick rush of air slices through two layers of robes, splitting the dirtied fabric open as the king narrowly escapes without a new scar. But his return stab doesn’t meet a mark and he’s slow on the rebound, steps lost some of the agility he had at the start.

Please. Please, you beg to whatever god may be listening, don’t let him die. But that rebel seems to have an endless strength as he forces the king back, meets him blow for blow for blow and you are so worried, terrified you’re going to see his last moments like this. Like this you will have been with him until the end just like you once stupidly wished. You’re so caught up you don’t realize what’s going on behind you.

“Su-uinyeo-nim! Watch out!” Myungho’s voice cracks as he cries your name, but you turn too slow. Myungho’s on the ground and the rebel that beat him is sprinting towards you, savagery in his scowl, his crude axe already suspended in mid-swing, just a few more steps, just one more shove to land right across your heart and you, you who has never held a weapon before in her life, you who has lived to heal and mend instead of hurt, what can you do right now but die?

“No!”

The scream is hoarse, a furious sound matched with a rush of robes that whip past your own.

You peel open your eyes in time to watch the king take the axe blow meant for you with his left arm. Despite his bark of pain, he swings with his right in exchange and it’s enough. The rebel falls, his axe plummeting uselessly beside him. Then the king falters too, sword clattering down as he finally drops to his knees.

“Jeonha!” You scramble to him. “Oh god, oh god, jeonha, why did you do that— Jeonha, how could you do such a thing? Jeonha!” You part the stained robes, stomach churning at the raw sight of his sacrifice. “We need to fetch you help. You need medicine, oh god, oh god.” This is panic like you’ve never felt it before as you look around, as if some miracle could occur, as if it hasn’t already occurred by the fact that you’re both still alive.

To one side, Hoseok is alone, gasping hard with the enormous rebel lying prone beside him, evidently having finished him off. Myungho has a gash running down his side, but he’s crawling towards you both still with a hand pressed to his wound for pressure. There is no one else. You have to do this on your own. You have to calm the hell down.

Using the nearby sword, you force yourself to focus and stop shaking as you cut strips of the inner layer of your skirt. You have to save his arm even as nausea swims in your mind, nerves making you want to empty your stomach.

“Hah...” The king’s chest lurches as he struggles for air. His eyes are hazy but he manages to fix them on you, as if to ground himself. “You’re… safe?”

Nodding frantically, you start to wrap the cloth around him, willing your fingers not to slip. “I-It’s deep, jeonha. Your wound is so deep.” You’re quietly sobbing as you tie the makeshift bandage to stop the worst of the bleeding. How could he be thinking of you at a time like this? It must hurt excruciatingly so, yet he is still trying to be strong.

Beside you, Hoseok is carrying Myungho’s weight, using the extra cloth to help his ally with his limited medical training.

“…Hoseok.” The king sucks in another long breath. “They… Those rebels were peasants, weren’t they?”

“Yes, jeonha… I think they were.”

He accepts this knowledge silently as you finish your preliminary treatment, but lack the resources to do anything else. You stare at the fresh red seeping through the flimsy cloth and hope desperately that it will be enough for now, until one of you can return to the palace and gather reinforcements to take you home. Feeling your fingers stop, he immediately tries to move his arm but winces, bites his lip at the sudden jolt.

“Don’t move, please,” you instantly say.

The king huffs a long, exhausted sigh as he sinks into the ground. Lets the tension seep out of him, though likely not by choice. His dark eyes flicker to the tomb briefly before they slide closed, the scar ever slashed startlingly crimson across the right side. Despite his best attempts, he is still winded, depleted. Human, after all. After all of this.

You brush matted strands of light hair away from his forehead, and pat at the drops of sweat that linger and prove how hard he pushed himself to fight. He shifts into your touch like a stray animal, allowing you take care of him for once without argument until his breaths even some, settling only in your arms.

“It seems it’s been a long time,” he says softly after a moment, his eyes remaining shut.

“Since?”

“Since I’ve protected someone.”

Your pulse catches. Blood thrums through you as you whisper, “but you did.” Your voice is viscous with relief, and gratitude. “You did.”

Only now do you dare to reach for his hand, to lend him some of your strength, even though you have seen again just how much of it he already holds in himself.

Wrapped in your warmth, he squeezes back just the once. Lets you know he is here, he is here, he is here with you still.

a/n: because i could never forget the way he wielded that sword in the mv. so... how you feel about our king now?

#ficswithluv #btsghostie #yoongi x reader #min yoongi #bts imagines #bts scenarios #bts angst #yoongi angst #historical au #moonlit throne #rain writes #things only continue to shift don't they?

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