#i should be tagging that there's a few followin me

[planetamarte]

grown ass man that jokes about being a pervert and then gets embarrassed to rb something slightly suggestive on his own blog

[priincekin]

Artifice - Hyuluka Oneshot

When Hyuna is coerced into accompanying her celebrity ex, Luka, to a lavish event, their troubled past and unresolved tensions resurface.

CW for an unhealthy relationship dynamic and manipulation!

For in depth tags, please check the AO3 upload. (Coming soon)

"Remind me why the hell I agreed to this?" Hyuna muttered under her breath, tugging at her too-short slip dress that clung tightly to every curve while simultaneously trying to adjust her thigh-highs, casting a glare at Luka across the limo. “… Send my compliments to your stylist for making me into a knock-off Barbie, and then tell ‘em to go play in traffic!”

Luka, of course, didn’t acknowledge her provocations. Nooooo, he was too busy prettying himself up, mascara wand poised. Figures.

Hyuna's frustration simmered as she watched him, his indifference stoking her anger.

Her eyes then fell once more on the infuriating list of 'rules' Luka had drafted for the evening. She had seen the paper before and thrown it away, but seeing that Luka went through the effort to print another one was enough to piss her off all over again. The neatly typed instructions on the crumpled paper seemed to mock her with their orderly bullets and condescending tone and Heperu’s letterhead.

“Now listen here, sweet cheeks, and listen good," she burst out, holding up the paper. “For the last time, I ain’t followin’ these rules, quit givin’ me more of these papers! You can shove ‘em right up your—“

"Please mind your language, Miss Hyuna,"

"Oh bite me! We all know I'm just arm candy, and it ain’t hard to stroke your ego for a few hours. Trust me. I’d know. So fuck off and lemme live a little! They're a joke.” She looked back down at the sheet with a scoff. “’Giggle, don’t laugh' - really? Who you tryin’ to turn me into?!”

God, the way they were arguing almost reminded her of old times. Back when he was her high-school sweetheart. Though, she was shocked he wasn’t being more argumentative toward her. By the end, Luka’s good moods were becoming rarer and rarer, and just being around him was like walking on eggshells. For a bit, Hyuna had made excuses for him — of course, with her temper, there was only so long until she was bound to explode.

Once she had blown up, the relationship was, of course, doomed. There was no recovery from the things she had said. They broke up over text. Yet, even though it was technically her fault, Luka leaving town soon after still wasn't just a minor plot twist; it was a full-on mindfuck. She'd catch herself getting all misty-eyed over their cheesy ice cream dates, where they'd crack up at the lamest jokes, or those beautiful nights in the deserted auditorium. Luka serenading her like she was the only girl in the world. Pity his dad slammed the brakes on that short-lived romantic gesture and forbade him from ever doing it again.

And then, after all that, Luka just had to go and get famous. Suddenly, his face was everywhere – magazines, billboards, you name it. Each time Hyuna saw that face, she reminded herself she should feel lucky to be rid of him, and that she had herself to thank for it.

But then, the tabloids started flaunting photos of Luka with his new girl of the month, and oh, did that grind her gears, even though Dewey and Isaac kept telling her it was nothing.

Was it jealousy? Boredom? Or maybe just an allergic reaction to being erased by some blond bombshell with a plastic smile? Whatever it was, hearing about each breakup was like savoring a fine wine; that was, until Luka had the nerve to show up at her door, needing a date for some swanky party after his newest beau gave him the middle finger.

Hyuna sank back into the velvet seat, her attention snapping back to the moment. Her fingers flirted with the edges of what was possibly the world's most irritating shawl, offering about as much modesty as a cocktail napkin. The silence was unbearably awkward; she had to fill it somehow.

“… A compliment wouldn’t kill ya, you know. Or is it too hard to admit you’re dazzled by all this?” With a teasing flourish, she let the shawl slip just a tad, winking and blowing a kiss for good measure.

Luka glanced up and quickly gave her a once-over, sighing in disappointment. “I would not say that. I feel like you should be more focused on having an amicable attitude rather than needlessly flirting.”

“Uh-huh. Yep, I’m totally flirting. Maybe if these heels weren't giving me so many damn blisters, I’d be in a better mood. But ‘till then, the only smiling I'll be doing is smiling through the pain. Now, pass the champagne, will ya?” She held out her hand.

Luka protectively moved the bottle away from her. “Please reference page four, line five of the contract. There is a clause stating that, should you be intoxicated or otherwise behave troublingly during the event, your payment will be voided and you will owe me three more dates as reparation.” He tried, in vain, to hide his smug little grin.

“There’s a what?!” Hyuna scrambled to pick the paper back up, and lo and behold; right there, in the tiniest font imaginable, was exactly what Luka had said. “Oh, you little—”

“Miss Hyuna.”

Hyuna forced herself to take a deep breath. ‘This shit is for Hyun-woo’, she reminded herself. ‘Do it for him.’

As cheesy as it was, her brother was the light of her life. For being an eleven-year-old boy, Hyun-woo was surprisingly sweet. Not at all like the assholes he went to school with, Hyuna had made sure of that much.

After she won sole custody of him, all of the expenses had fallen onto her shoulders: the bills, food, his allowance, and seemingly a million other things. Most of the time, she could make it work, even on her pathetic bartender’s paycheck.

But Christmas was a whole different kind of struggle. Living paycheck to paycheck meant there was never extra cash for Hyun-woo’s presents. The real sting was in the simplicity of his wishes – a DS game, a cheap Nerf gun, an outdated board game. That's all he wanted that year. Yet, no matter how hard she tried, no matter how much she saved, some unavoidable expense always reared its ugly head, draining away her meager savings. It seemed like there was no other way.

Finally, the limo pulled up to a grand mansion, its lights casting a cold glow over the entrance. Hyuna peered out the window, noticing two girls at the doorway: one in a suit with long pink hair, discreetly fiddling with a ring box in her pocket, and the other, with short black hair, clad in a white dress. At least some people were having a nice time.

“Well, ain't this just peachy," she muttered, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "A regular palace for Prince Charming and his temporary Cinderella."

Luka finally looked up, meeting her eyes. “Now that we're here, remember to smile and wave. It's all about appearances, isn't it?" He forced a smile himself as if to set an example, but it only soured her mood further. “Though, you are certainly at an advantage with how beautiful you are.”

“Too late for the compliment, buddy.” Hyuna rolled her eyes. “I'll smile and wave. Like I'm a damn parade float." She opened the limo door and stepped out, her heels clicking against the cobblestone driveway. The cold air hit her and made her wish, yet again, for a longer dress.

Luka, as if by magic, whipped out a plush white fur coat from the trunk and slung it over Hyuna's shoulders with a flourish. For a split second, she almost bought into it, the coat's luxurious softness tricking her into thinking he might actually care. Was he finally clued into how uncomfortable she was? To how exposed she felt? She let herself indulge in that thought, the tension in her shoulders easing off a notch as she grabbed his outstretched hand, her cheeks betraying a reluctant blush.

Then, wham. The scent hit her -– a blend of chrysanthemums and wilted roses, laced with bitter almonds. It was perfume, and definitely not her brand. That's when it clicked. This wasn't some chivalrous move; it was Luka’s version of peacocking, a display for the few nosy onlookers ogling at them. They were absolutely eating it up.

Hyuna’s grip on his hand turned from soft to vice-like, not out of romance, but so she didn’t facepalm right there and then.

How utterly 'Luka' to turn even a coat into a performance.

Hyuna shuddered, skin crawling under the perfumed fur. "Wow, so generous!” She whisper-yelled. “Real classy, Luka! Decking me out in a coat you lent to your last fling? What's the grand plan here, recycling her bling for me next?”

Luka tsked under his breath. "The one time I attempted kindness with you... How fascinating, though, that you care so much about what she did.”

They entered the glittering ballroom, all string quartets and designer outfits straight from the pages of Vogue. Hyuna sized up the crowd, mentally tagging each socialite with the most absurd names she could think of.

As Luka steered them towards the center, Hyuna operated on autopilot — a plastered smile, forced giggles at their pretentious bragging just as Luka asked. But, instinctively, she occasionally leaned over and muttered to Luka under her breath:

"You think that dude knows his fake tan is literally dripping down his arm?"

"Twenty bucks says that girl trips on her dress. God, it looks like she’s wearing a curtain…"

“Manners, darling.”

“It’s either I say it to you or I say it to their faces,” she hissed back.

‘Four hours.’, she chanted inwardly. Then sweet freedom and her even sweeter paycheck.

Hyuna continued to trail behind as Luka flitted from one circle of guests to the next. Her cheeks ached from keeping a smile while straining to laugh daintily at comments ranging from dull to outright crude and dehumanizing.

After the fifth round of banal small talk about vacation homes and polo tournaments, Hyuna found herself practically wilting into the plush fur coat. God, even the coat was getting on her nerves. Its cloying floral scent made her stomach turn, and she couldn't stop fidgeting with the garish ruffles lining the sleeves.

Luka suddenly clamped a firm hand on her wrist, stilling its motions. "Stop that. Honestly, your manners tonight..." He sighed, guiding her toward the dance floor where a few couples swayed lazily. "Just try to enjoy yourself a little?"

Luka drew Hyuna near, seemingly for a waltz. She opened her mouth to object, but reluctantly rested a hand on his shoulder, resisting the childish urge to stomp on his polished boots. As they began half-heartedly twirling, Hyuna felt remarkably disconnected — it was nothing like the way they used to dance — but it wasn’t long before a burst of coos and applause pulled her eyes toward the garden entrance. There stood the two girls from earlier, both with tears in her eyes. One had dropped to her knee, presenting a ring with trembling hands.

"Oh, would you look at that?" Luka smiled softly. "I suppose this manor would look awfully nice in the proposal pictures.”

Hyuna usually wasn’t a sucker for such cheesy moments. Still, she couldn't help but track the heartwarming scene over Luka's shoulder. A real proposal, she mused. No pretense or strings attached...

Hyuna started to turn around to watch, but everything was ruined by one uneven floor tile.

Mid-spin, her stiletto caught on it, sending her flailing backward. She crashed to the floor — thank God for Luka’s coat, or else it would’ve been even worse.

A horrified collective gasp echoed as every head swiveled her way, including the two girls. The applause and music ceased with a screech. In the excruciating silence, she felt hundreds of eyes boring into her, Luka’s especially. His grip closed on her arm, wrenching her upright with a sharp whisper. “What did I say about manners? You just ruined their entire proposal.”

Hyuna felt her cheeks burn red-hot, as guilt settled in the pit of her stomach. “Oh, yeah, ‘cause that was totally on purpose! Screw askin’ me if I’m okay, right?” She whispered back, wishing that Luka would just shut his mouth and try to cover for her.

"I cannot believe you've embarrassed me like this, after everything I've done." Luka's usual composure cracked, voice lowered to a harsh whisper. "The other guests can hardly look at me now. This appearance was crucial for my image, not to mention our agreement, and you..."

He trailed off, shaking his head. His fingers dug into the fur coat with white knuckles before he released her. When Luka raised his eyes to meet hers, he looked absolutely disgusted.

"Just get out of my sight. I need to salvage what remains of this wretched evening."

Hyuna weakly scoffed, then pulled herself free to sketch a barely passable curtsy to the crowd. “Sorry for the unplanned entertainment tonight,” she called out, trying to ignore the sobs. “As you were!” Ignoring the whispers echoing around her, she beelined away from Luka; anywhere but there was good enough for her.

Hyuna shoved through the murmuring crowd, cheeks burning under the weight of so many prying eyes. The stilettos clicked loudly against the tile floor as she muttered insults towards the gawkers blocking her escape. Just as the cool night air kissed her bare shoulders, a familiar voice called out.

"Heyyyyyy, Hyuna! Fancy seein' ya here!"

She whirled around, a biting retort poised on her lips. But there stood Dewey and Isaac, surprisingly dapper in their mismatched suits and shit-eating grins. Despite her overwhelming emotions, Hyuna couldn't restrain a hint of a smile. Leave it to these two knuckleheads to appear from thin air when she needed it most. Hyuna placed her hands on her hips, arching an eyebrow.

"What the hell are you guys doing here?" She lowered her voice to a whisper. "This ain't exactly an open-invitation party, geniuses."

Isaac rocked eagerly on his heels. "Oh it was easy peasy to sneak in the kitchen door while them fancy waiters were distracted. Plus, you mentioned you'd be ‘ere with, uh… Y’know, Mr. High-and-Mighty," he said, gesturing vaguely toward Luka's direction. “Wanted to see how it’d play out since he’s such an--”

Dewey quickly clamped a hand over Isaac's rambling mouth. "Can the chatter before we get tossed out!" He shot Hyuna a sheepish grin. "Just, uh, wanted to check in on ya. Make sure princey isn't being too much of a sleaze."

"A sleaze? Nah, try self-centered jackass," she replied, launching into a recap of the disastrous proposal scene. Dewey and Isaac's eyes grew wide as saucers.

"No way he blamed you for that!" Dewey scoffed. "What a prick."

Hyuna threw her hands up in exasperation. "Thank you! Guy drives me absolutely insane."

Isaac gave an enthusiastic nod and dove a hand into his suit pocket. "Yeah. Hey, uh, you guys tried the shrimp? I snatched a bunch when those waiter guys weren't lookin'." He held up a fistful of mangled cocktail shrimp, tails dangling limply.

“Dude, what is wrong with you?!” When Isaac raised the shrimp to his mouth, Hyuna swatted it out of his hand and onto the floor. “Rule one of stealing food! Bring a ziplock or tupperware!”

Isaac dejectedly stared down at the shrimp on the floor. “... I ran out of ziplocks.” His lip quivered like he was about to cry.

“Then buy more! You have a job!” Hyuna whisper-yelled, playfully hitting him in the shoulder. “Unless you got fired again!”

A prickling unease crept over Hyuna as she felt eyes boring into her back.

“Uh… girl? You might wanna turn around…” Dewey said, pointing behind her.

Luka was staring. His polished composure had vanished, replaced by clenched fists and an infuriated glare. Stalking over to her, his expression

"We need to talk. Now." Luka's grabbed tightly onto Hyuna's arm as he steered her away. She shot a helpless look back to Dewey and Isaac.

"Get your paws off me!" She shook out of his grasp. "You don't own me, Luka. I can talk to whoever I damn well please-"

Luka's bitter scoff cut her off as he took her wrist yet again. "Oh yes, cozying up to a pair of hoodlums should shine brilliantly in the gossip columns."

Finally, they reached an inconspicuous, plain door. Luka pushed it open, revealing a small, dimly lit linen closet. With a swift movement, he pulled her inside and shut the door behind them, plunging them into near darkness, the only light coming from the crack under the door. Hyuna bristled, backing herself away from him and towards the wall.

“Why are we here?! Someone definitely saw us come in here, and you know what they probably think we’re doin’ right now?! They prolly think--”

Luka leaned close, taking a deep breath. "This night was already disastrous enough without you flirting to make me jealous." He paused. "Go ahead, deny that's what you wanted."

“What are you talking about?! You literally told me to get away from you!” Hyuna's retort came out quieter than she intended as Luka’s hands found the curve of her waist, pulling her closer. The cold of his body against hers was so disgusting but oh so familiar, and Hyuna found herself melting into it. But she still felt his eyes on her, watching her every movement as he stared up at her from her chest.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Hyuna muttered.

Luka’s eyes finally closed, sighing softly. “Like what?”

“Like I’m something you own,” She finally found it in her to try pushing him away, and to his credit, his grip faltered. “You know damn well I hate when you get all possessive, ‘specially over Dewey and—”

“It’s not about them,” Luka cuts in sharply.

“Oh, please! They’re so gay for each other, you’d have to be blind not to—”

“That’s not the point, Hyuna!”

“Yeah, well, you’re choosing to be a dick about it!”

Before Hyuna could say anything more, his lips found hers in a kiss. Hyuna’s eyes widened. She didn’t kiss back, but she didn’t pull away either; for all she cared, he could kiss himself breathless.

Hyuna’s pulse raced as her heart, slowly but surely, began to betray her. She hated him, sure, but somewhere, buried under layers of hurt and pride, a fragment of what used to be lingered. This wasn’t about wanting him. It was about wanting what they used to have. She’d always been too stubborn to let go of things…

As his kiss deepened, Hyuna's resistance finally crumbled.

This was stupid.

She found herself responding with equal fervor, her hands tangling in his hair, pulling him closer. The small space seemed to shrink further.

So stupid.

Hyuna closed her eyes, letting him close what little distance was left between them. But it didn’t feel close enough.

She hated herself for this.

Breaking the kiss, Luka’s breath was ragged against her lips. “This is the end for us, isn’t it?” he whispered, his voice barely audible.

Instead of answering, she reached down, pulling him back up to her, their lips meeting yet again. This wasn’t just about pretenses or contracts. This was something raw, something real that wasn’t supposed to happen.

What felt like an eternity passed between them before she pulled away, a sad, sardonic smile playing on her lips.

Thank God the room was dark, or else Luka might’ve seen the angry tears clouding her vision.

"... ‘course, you had to start tryin’ to be sweet at the worst time.”

Luka looked at her, a hint of frustration in his eyes. "This isn't about timing, Miss Hyuna. This is about…"

"About what? Us?" Hyuna cut him off, sidestepping further into the shadows of the closet. "There is no 'us', remember? We're just a couple of fucked-up people who can't seem to stay away from each other, even after years." She crossed her arms, her heart racing. "I ain’t doin’ this anymore. That kiss? That was it. Now, are we gonna be adults about it and end this for good, or are you gonna keep bein’ in denial?"

"I wish it were that simple."

Hyuna let out a short, mirthless laugh. "Right, ‘cause everything's gotta be complicated with you. Newsflash, Luka, it doesn't have to be. We make it complicated. Mostly you. This was all supposed to be fake, but nope, you took me into a closet and started makin’ out with me.”

For a moment, Luka was silent. Then, with a sigh, he stepped back, his shoulders slumping slightly. "I suppose it's time we face reality. This... whatever it is, between us, it's not healthy."

The words, though expected, stung Hyuna more than she cared to admit. She should’ve been grateful that he didn’t keep fighting it, but nope. Her heart was sinking. But she nodded, her own resolve steeling. "Yep. It’s time.”

Luka reached out, his hand trembling with unspoken words. “Hyuna, I—”

“Don’t,” she interrupted sharply. “Just don’t. Spare us the dramatics.”

There was a pause, heavy and laden, as Luka seemed to process the information. Then, like a scene from a worn-out play, his charm slid back into place, smooth and unnervingly familiar. It was like he became an entirely new person in a matter of seconds, and Hyuna bristled.

“On second thought… Darling, you’re seeing this all wrong,” he said. “We’re a match made in heaven, you and I.”

Hyuna’s attempt to step back was futile; Luka’s grasp was firm yet gentle. “Luka, cut the crap. I know what you’re doin’.”

“But think of what we’ve shared. Our dates, the outings, me holding you when you cry.”

“And the fights? The tears? The screaming matches in the school janitor's closet? Dammit Luka, you were the reason I was crying!” Hyuna countered, her voice wavering.

“Hyuna, darling, that’s how relationships work. We bicker, yes, but we never fail to come back together…”

“You left,” Hyuna snapped. A knot of anger and hurt tightened in her chest. His words were half-truths and blatant manipulation, and yet she still began to feel swayed.

“You know very well that was my Father’s decision for my career and not my own.”

“But did ya fight back?! Probably not, ‘cause since when do you think for yourself?”

Luka lowered his voice, clearly giving up. “... Aside from that, who understands you as I do?” Luka’s voice was soft, almost persuasive, his words carefully chosen. “We’re inevitable, Hyuna. Stay with me, and your brother’s future is secure. That’s a promise only I can make.”

“You… really?” Her resolve wavered further. Luka was stupid rich; if he wanted to, he could pay for her brother’s college education. She’d never have to worry about paying for his gifts ever again. Luka was right. This was a promise only he could make.

“You’re so damn impossible,” she muttered, caught in the tempest of his gaze. Reluctantly, she found herself drawn into his embrace, their lips meeting in a bitter kiss of surrender.

Was it really so wrong to fall back into this cycle? To choose the devil she at least knew over uncertainty?

As their kiss deepened, her doubts seemed to dissolve into the heat of the moment.

[moriihana]

we can't fix each other but we sure as hell can enable each other instead || twelve: the both of you are definitely at least a little unhinged

pairing: dabi x disabled!gn!reader

overview: you meet dabi pre-canon because your cat, nugget, literally won’t leave the guy alone. friendship, fluff and (eventual) angst ensue.

chapter summary: because you were incredibly bored, you tag along with dabi during his little outing with the high-end nomu. the two of you have fun and bicker like an old married couple. the usual.

content: fluff

word count: 2659

taglist: @iincandescenttt

AO3 link

← previous ; next →

“Hey, doll.” Dabi leaned against your bedroom doorframe, crossing his arms. “Got a moment to talk?”

You snorted, shifting Nugget off your lap. “No, can’t you see I’m totally swamped petting my questionably gay cat?” You joked. “‘course I have a moment. Especially since everyone’s off doin’ their own thing right now.”

He stepped in and shut the door, then strode across the room to sit next to you. “Y’know the Wing Hero, Hawks?”

“The one that looks like a playboy and talks so cockily it makes me want to shove barbed wire into my ears? Yeah, I know him. How come?”

“He approached me. Wants to join the League.”

You scoffed, “The number two hero wants to join the League of Villains, huh? Sounds like a load of bullshit.”

“Oh, it gets better, mouse.” Dabi drawled. “Obviously, I was suspicious—I might be insane, but I’m not stupid—so I found out where he lives and sent some thugs to scope out the place. Wanted to see if I could get any information. Lucky for us, his mother was there.” An unhinged grin spread across his face and pulled at his staples, a manic gleam in his eyes. “With a few threats, we were given everything and more.”

You sat up with a look of glee that rivalled Dabi’s. “Oooh, do tell! I love secrets.”

“Gladly.” Dabi looked down as Nugget climbed into his lap, making biscuits on his thigh. “You too, huh, ya lil stink? Makes sense, you nosy shit.” He chuckled at your scowl, “Just kiddin’, doll. Anyways, here’s the deal…”

You let out a hum once Dabi finished talking. “So, let me get this straight. You’re telling me that this abused little boy, who basically idolised Endeavour, was recruited by the HPSC and trained to be… what, a child soldier? After Endeavour arrested his father? And that’s Hawks? Sheesh, wonder how he’s gonna feel when he finds out what a massive shitlord Endeavour really is…” You snorted and straightened, interlocking your fingers and stretching your arms over your head. “Anyways, you’re telling me this now for a reason, right? We agreed that you didn’t need to tell me all of your little villainous escapades that I don’t accompany you on if it’s not anything super important, so I figure something’s come up now?”

“Bingo.” Dabi smirked. “I decided to humour Hawks—information of the ongoings in the HPSC is valuable to us, and since I already know he’s a double-crosser, it’ll be easy to filter our information well enough. He’s in the… initiation period, so to speak. Y’know Ujiko, the fuckin’ weird doctor guy you and I met? He gave me a new toy to play with—a High-End Nomu. The potential is incredible.” His tone took on an excited edge. “I want to send it up against Endeavour as a test.”

“Okay… and this has to do with Hawks… how, exactly? Not followin’ ya here, pretty boy.”

“I told Hawks I would let loose a Nomu at a warehouse by the coast to test its strength against some random hero. Which was initially the plan! But after seeing Hawks interacting with Endeavour this morning during the broadcast of the Hero Billboard Chart, I had a better idea. Why not have it fight Endeavour?”

You laughed, “I like the sound of that. I wanna watch shit go down, can I come with? Please let me come with, it’s so fucking boring around here I need to do something or I’ll die.”

“I wasn’t tellin’ you all this just to leave ya behind, doll. Of course I’m dragging you along. We should probably head out now, so we have plenty of time—Ujiko said he’d use that gross fuckin’ method to get us around, so we can just have him send us to the warehouse.” Dabi brushed off his pants and stood up.

“The one that makes you throw up to warp away? Eugh, it’s so disgusting. I hate that one!” You whined, but got up nonetheless. 

“Yeah, yeah. But without Kurogiri we’ve got no other option. You ready to go?” Once you confirmed, Dabi reached up to his collar and pressed down on the communicator he had fixed into it. “Ujiko, send Y/N and I to the warehouse.”

You immediately made your displeasure known as soon as the black liquid burst out of your mouth and enveloped your body.

Once the warp had finished and you were both in front of the warehouse where the Nomu was stored, you made exaggerated gagging sounds. “I fuckin’ hate that. Why can’t it be more pleasant…” 

“Sorry, doll.” Dabi shrugged, an amused smirk on his face. “You wanted to come with.”

“He should get a better goddamn way to warp…” you grumbled, rubbing the back of your neck with a scowl.

He gave you a pat on the shoulder, then pulled open the door to the warehouse. Dabi shoved his hands in his pockets, walking in slowly with you right behind. “The ones before didn’t really understand, but I expect more this time, High-End.”

The High-End Nomu was in a hunched over position. Its head turned towards the two of you and pupils appeared in its glowing eyes once Dabi spoke. “W-W-Won’t… l-let… won’t let you down…”

“Oh, it can talk?” You tilted your head, leaning to the side slightly. “Is it a High-End thing? Will it follow directions better?”

“Probably. I sure fuckin’ hope so, at least.” Dabi crouched down, resting his elbows on his knees. “You know your job?”

“F-Find… the stron-gest… and attack…” 

“Go on then.” Dabi grinned lopsidedly. He stood back up and watched as the Nomu took off from the warehouse to find Endeavour. He then looked at you. “Didja bring your phone?”

“Mmhm.” You pulled your phone out of your pocket and held it out to him. “Do your thing.”

Dabi hummed and pulled up the news pages for any updates. Once one came through, he tapped on it to watch the live footage of Endeavour fighting the Nomu. “Oh, it’s strong.”

“Looks like it, yeah.” You set your chin on his shoulder as you watched with him. “Bodes well for us, at least. And watching Endeavour get his ass beat is pretty damn satisfying.”

The amusement faded once Endeavour started to actually make a dent in the Nomu. When he used his Prominence Burn move, Dabi swore under his breath. He handed you your phone back, then pressed on the communicator again.

“Ujiko. We need to get closer to Endeavour.”

You groaned a quiet ‘not again,’ but tucked your phone into your back pocket. You glared at Dabi as the black liquid poured out of your mouth and wrapped around your body. Once you were dropped near Endeavour, you lightly shoved him. “Asshole,” you grumbled, pouting.

“You wanted to come.” Dabi simply winked and gave you a lazy smile.

“Startin’ to regret it right about now, pretty boy,” you teased gently. “Let’s go bully an old man, yeah?” You raised an eyebrow when he took your chin in his hand.

“When we get over there, stay by my side, follow my lead. I don’t want you getting hurt, doll. I’m serious. Do you understand?” He only dropped his hand when you gave him a soft ‘yes.’ “Good. C’mon.”

As you made your way out of the alley you were deposited into, Dabi placed his palm on the small of your back. He kept it there until you stopped in front of Endeavour and Hawks, at which point he curled it around your waist.

“Just a minute now,” Dabi drawled. “None of this is how we planned it, but that’s fine.” He gave a menacing smile when the heroes startled. “Well, Endeavour… should I say nice to meet you?”

You grinned and waved from next to him. “We didn’t think you’d be here. You’re really not lookin’ too good there, Number One!” You taunted.

Endeavour’s face contorted in anger as his eyes fixated on Dabi. “It’s you! The one who murdered Snatch!” 

“Sna—? Who?” As Dabi spoke, he tapped your hip twice. You took two steps forward and to the side so he could create a barrier of flames without burning you. “More importantly, let’s chat while we have the chance.”

“Take it easy, I’ll handle them,” Hawks said quickly as Endeavour tried and failed to get up. “I only have my tiny feathers left… but I can at least buy us some time.”

Dabi rolled his eyes and walked forwards. “C’mon, we’re only here to collect the Nomu. There’s no way we could actually win, right? Against the top two dudes, already beat up and bloodied?!” When he finished speaking, a feral grin pulled taut at his staples and he lunged forwards, igniting his forearms. 

You caught sight of something moving in the sky, and immediately reached out towards his back. “Dabi, get back!” You shrieked. 

Dabi extinguished his arms and jumped back beside you just in time to dodge the hero slamming into the ground in front of you. “Thanks, mouse.” 

“Don’t mention it,” you breathed out, relief palpable in your voice. The two of you watched the new arrival carefully, unsure of your next moves.

“I saw the news and came hopping! Endeavour! Hawks! You boys don’t get to have all the fun! And you two—you’re with the League? Your butts’re about to get kicked!” The hero grinned, looking at you. 

Dabi groaned. “Fuckin’ Mirko? Too bad… right when things were heating up, too.” He pressed the communicator. “Ujiko, get us out of here. Bye for now, Mr. Number One Hero. I’m sure we’ll get another chance to talk, but until then…” That feral grin made its way back onto Dabi’s face, this time splitting his skin as he shouted, “Just keep doing your thing and don’t go dying on me, ‘kay, Todoroki Enji?!”

Once you were safely back at the warehouse, you raised your hand to Dabi’s cheek, healing where his skin split. “You got a little too excited there, pretty boy.” Despite your unhappiness with the fact he hurt himself, your scolding was gentle. You shook your head with a fond smile and decided to let him off easy. “Why’d we come back here instead of going home?”

“Sorry, doll.” To his credit, Dabi did sound at least a little apologetic. He then shrugged, leaning against a support beam. “I had Ujiko plop us back here since I figured Hawks would come lookin’ for me after things didn’t go the way I initially said.”

“Ahh, I see. How long d’you think it’ll take the birdbrain to get over here?” You pulled out your phone, waving it. “We could play a game or some shit while we wait.”

“Who fuckin’ knows, so why the hell not. What kinda stupid games you got on here?” Dabi swiped your phone out of your hands, ignoring your brief indignant protest. You grumbled when you realised he wasn’t gonna give it back.

“Asshole…” you huffed, pouting as you rested your chin on his shoulder. “Let’s see… I downloaded that one game where one player holds the phone up to their forehead and has to guess the word as the other players give hints by acting it out—ah, yeah, that one right there! Charades! Toga wanted to play it one night with Twice and I. It wasn’t terrible, if not a little silly. Probably not your style.”

“Definitely not my style, doll,” Dabi snorted. “What else ya got?”

“Hell if I know. Toga’s always the one stealing my phone to download games. I don’t know why you people can’t use your own damn phones.”

“You charge your phone.”

“Well, start charging yours!” You reached around his arm for your phone, whining when Dabi held it out of reach. “Don’t be a brat, it’s not my fault you don’t remember to charge your phone! Gimmie!”

“Sorry, mouse. You’re the one who suggested to play a game,” Dabi drawled, grinning lazily.

“I didn’t think you would just take my phone!” You smacked him lightly on his shoulder, returning to pouting. “Can’t believe I love an overgrown child.”

“You’re the one pouting because you’re not getting your way.”

“I’m pouting because you took my phone and won’t give it back!”

Dabi chuckled and moved beside you, holding out your phone. “Fine, here ya go.”

You stuck your tongue out at him and shoved it into your back pocket. You opened your mouth to respond, but immediately stopped when Hawks walked in. Your grip on your cane tightened.

“None of that was according to plan,” Hawks spoke after he stopped in front of Dabi with an unamused expression.

“That so?” Dabi quipped back, raising an eyebrow.

A feather blade was held up to his neck faster than either of you could blink. You immediately bristled, but Dabi shook his head. “It’s alright, mouse,” he said, keeping his voice steady. You reluctantly settled down, glaring at the hero instead.

“How about some actual cooperation, Dabi?” Hawks narrowed his eyes, disregarding you for the moment.

“Hey, I thought you only had those baby feathers left?” Dabi tilted his head, taunting ever so slightly.

“You think I’d meet with a liar like you unarmed? It was supposed to be tomorrow. And not downtown, but at the factory by the water. You never mentioned bringing your little friend here, either.” Hawks’s expression darkened. “Plus, this Nomu was clearly a cut above the rest. You could’ve mentioned that beforehand.”

“That ‘friend’ is my partner, Y/N. You’d do well to remember their name, or I’ll brand it into you,” Dabi warned, then settled back into his laid back demeanour. “And I guess I just changed my mind. Didn’t I tell you I’d be testing the Nomu’s capabilities? But we’re both a little guilty. I asked you for someone kinda strong, but you brought the top dog himself! It wasn’t that much of a test.”

“I didn’t mean any offence, Dabi. No need to threaten me.” Hawks glanced at you, then turned his attention back to Dabi. “But I thought you’d be thrilled to inflict that kind of pain on him. Besides, you’re the one who broke our agreement.”

Dabi scoffed, “I’m s’posed to believe the number two hero, just like that? This was me testing how much I can trust you. And tell me, why zero casualties today?” He shifted his body sideways away from the blade. “Do you really sympathise with us? You came looking to cooperate, but you sure don’t act like it.”

You watched as Hawks’s face contorted in irritation, amusement bubbling up at his frustration.

“I gotta keep up appearances. A hero can’t go losing the public’s trust. The more faith they have in me, the juicer the intel I can get. That’s to your advantage. Try taking the long view here.” He lowered his blade as Dabi walked around him. “What I do, I do for the League’s sake, Dabi.”

“Fine… but you don’t get a face-to-face with the boss just yet. You’ll hear from us, Hawks.” Dabi looked over his shoulder at you. “C’mon, mouse.”

You smiled at that, straightening up. “Finally, I was getting bored here. See ya around, Number Two.” You manoeuvred around him with a wave, walking after Dabi.

Dabi stared out at the horizon as the sun rose, hands in his pockets. You were leaned against him with your eyes shut.

“Oh… oh! Right! That was Snatch!” 

You hummed and looked up at Dabi when he spoke. “That was the sand guy, right? He made that stupid comment about the families of the people we kill?” You frowned as blood trickled out from his scars, gently wiping it away as he responded. 

“Yeah, that one.” His voice was uncharacteristically soft. “I’ve thought about it so much that I’ve gone crazy.”

You gave a soft laugh at that. “At least you’ve got someone just as fuckin’ crazy by your side.”

“Yeah. At least I’ve got that.”

[spaghett-onaplate]

"one of these" im feeling chatty, and also we're new mutuals, so let's do all those little ask things!

what's your favorite animal? :3c

i followed you cause i noticed you interacting with Abram and i was like "oh this person seems fun" and i rotated the thought of followin for... several weeks? and then was like "yea let's goooo"

i am currently thinking about my OC Procyon <3

idk if this is considered a compliment but your reactions to my info dumps fill me with glee (๑˃ᴗ˂)

ocean or outer space?

i am debating if i should self reblog my original works on a more frequent basis cause sometimes folks don't realize i post my stuff and they wanna read it... thoughts?

everything about me is an open secret alxhskdbsk

currently im associating you with yr and slowly building connections to Australia, and i have a few Australia related info dumps but the thing about that is ya gotta not dump them all at once... so know that i am chilling for opportunities

okie this is a long ask, oop;;

Hoohoohoo this is a very welcome long ask >:))

Favourite animal: I don't really have a specific favourite animal anymore tbh, but I do particularly like fish (as a general thing, but I'm thinking of comet goldfish - i very much hope to get some when I get a job :>), giraffes, foxes, cats, birds (as a very general thing again, but noisy miners stand out to me. they are little bastard bullies that annoy every other bird and animal but their little FACES. their faces you do not understand they are so adorable. there are some nesting on our side garden thing and so one day one kept repeatedly banging headfirst into the window,, we thought it was at my cat first. she was loving the bird show). I used to loveee foxes so much, they were my absolute favourite animal for ages!!

Why you followed me: Oho yes that's cool!! I saw you and Abram interact a few times so I assumed that was our mutual.. mutual?? connection?? well anyway that is very nice :>>

Currently thinking about: oo i like the name Procyon!! Is it pronounced prock-yon or does the "cy" blend together like in cyan, to make pro-syon? Or another way?? Either way very cool <33

Compliment: hoohoo well I take any positive perceptions of myself as compliments, and I'm glad that you appreciate my appreciation :>> but yes your tags are always so interesting to read!! Either cool info or a time that you got into a Situation

Ocean or outer space: Ocean, by far. In terms of exploration, it's right here!! May as well discover all the uncharted ocean before expanding to the rest of the solar system, no?? And for personal interest, I find the ocean and its life very cool. Immensely terrifying, especially considering the fact I can hardly swim, but very cool. (about the hardly swimming thing - I did take lessons, but they were more of an initial getting over the fear of water thing. Then I just never got the hang of freestyle at all, my body just doesn't stay up when I go to take a breath. Maybe that has to do with the burning-sinuses-and-hasn't-seen-the-surface-in-several-eons level of desperation I take a breath with, but I digress. So my swimming proficiency ends at doggy paddle. I tend to avoid water)

My thoughts: don't be scared to self-reblog if it's something you want other people to see!! And if there are people who want to see it, you could ask if they want to be tagged in future posts??

Open book: hah me too tbh, I am struck with the urge to share every single thing I have experienced in the face of crushing dread that it will be erased from my memory unless I do,, so I too have few secrets.

Associations: yr makes a lot of sense, and Australia! Yes! Well in case you haven't already figured it out, i am very much appreciative and interested in any and all of your info dumps, so feel free share to any time >:)) I could do with more information about Australia tbh, i feel that I take much of my surroundings for granted. But it's hard to romanticise familiar surroundings, right?? One random cool thing I like is that one of the peninsulas has Canadian rocks from before continental drift

The long ask was very much welcome, so here's my long post in response >:)) thank you for sending it in Milo!! Also fun fact, there is a very popular drink here called Milo. I'm pretty sure it's not a thing overseas?? But disregard this if it is lmfao. Well Milo is this chocolate powdery stuff that you add to milk and it tastes great, so I associate your name with that!

[versadies]

hi dan! how are you? congrats on 1k!! for the prompt event, can i request libra + kaeya + fluffy angst in which the reader realizes kaeya is their soulmate when he lies, on a very stressful day for both of them, about them never being a bother when they need a favor, so reader starts avoiding him bc they become unsure on how to act around him? either hc or drabble is fine. thank you so much! have a great day!

bothersome (hc scenario)

penpal: i'm doing fine (other than getting ready for school in a few weeks), hope this is to ur liking anon ! have a great day as well <<3

prompt: libra the scale, lie-tattoo soulmate au

pairing/s: kaeya x gn!reader

sypnosis: hc on how you avoiding kaeya after finding out he’s your soulmate.

includes: fluff/slight-angst, short fic, mentions of alcohol, reader overthinking, mentions of injuries

you need a drink. immediately.

when being assigned to a high class commission for the first time, you honestly thought things will go smoothly, even with reckless pallad tagging along.

but then the two of you came across to three ruin guards, causing you to be ditched by pallad and left you alone to deal with the three mechanics.

by the time you came back to mondstadt, you were filled with bandages covering your bruises and injuries littered all over your body, earning concerned stares from people as you pass by.

you could care less from the attention you received, all that was running through your mind is that you weren't able to complete a once-in-a-lifetime commission and missed your opportunity.

katheryne was more than happy to at least reward you for slaying the three ruin guards that was apparently a commission. despite getting paid by the end of the day, you were still disappointed.

as soon as you claimed your rewards from katheryne, you immediately took a visit to angel's share, hoping to find a certain man to chat with.

your eyes brightens when you spotted kaeya sitting on one of the stools in front of the counter.

"hey," you called, causing kaeya to look at you as he watches you sitting down beside him.

"rough day?" he asks with a teasing grin, gesturing your treated wounds. "how was it?"

you let out a sigh, quietly asking charles to give you your usual drink. "the commission? what can i say if i didn't do it at all?"

kaeya pats your shoulder reassuringly, taking a sip of his drink before putting it down. "care to entertain me with the details?" he asks.

"ruin guards." you said nonchalantly, thanking charles– who gave you your drink. "they all suddenly appeared and my partner ditched me."

he sighs dramatically in response. "what a coward."

you nodded in agreement. "indeed. what about you? got a rough day too?"

kaeya simply shrugs in response. "that's for you to not find out and for me to only know." he replied, swirling his drink around.

you stayed silent for a while, looking down at your glass with a blank look on your face.

now that you think about it, there was one certain commission with a generous reward that you could ask katheryne to let you do– not to mention the fact that with kaeya's help, you can definitely finish this commission in no time.

"say kaeya," you look at the calvary captain curiously, your eyes lands on his. "you don't mind if i ask you a favor, right?"

"are we going to bury or burn the body?" he asks jokingly.

he lets out a light laugh when he sees you rolling your eyes at his joke. "i'm merely jesting. you don't have to worry about being bothersome to me, you can always ask me for a favor."

you smile gratefully at your friend. "you have my thanks, kaeya."

as the both of you continue chatting the night away while enjoying your drink, you couldn't help but notice an itch in your covered arm, your hand constantly scratching on the bandage with irritation.

it wasn't until you removed the bandages the next day when you realized why it was itchy.

you were sure the words imprinted on your arm would haunt you for a while.

"you don't have to worry about being bothersome to me, you can always ask me for a favor."

you stared at the words on your arm for a while, unsure how to feel with your recent discovery. surely this was just a coincidence, right? but what if it wasn't–?

does this mean.. he finds you bothersome and annoying?

you frowned, your hands brushing against the tattoo whilst ignoring the pain from its touch. perhaps you should avoid him and not bother him unless necessary.

you let out a sigh, grabbing the new bandages you got from the cathedral and start wrapping it around your injuries, the thoughts about kaeya's true feelings about you never left your mind.

since then, you started avoiding areas where you know you'll encounter the man, whether it'd be angel's share, the knights of favonius headquarters, and even the entrance of mondstadt, deciding to go to the right entrance of the city and go to katheryne from there during the morning.

you were quite proud that you managed to get away from the calvary captain's sight, not minding the new change of routes and the hindrances you had to do in order to avoid kaeya like a plague.

this went on for a week. you no longer heard of the man and he the same. every time you see at least one glance of his familiar figure, you would immediately head to the opposite direction, ignoring him calling out your name should he notice your presence nearby. you're honestly grateful he didn't try to chase you.

even though you're okay with avoiding him, you couldn't stop your head from thinking about kaeya, wondering if he's now happy that you're no longer bothering him.

it didn't help that you've been debating with yourself on whether or not you should tell kaeya, a person who finds his own soulmate bothersome, that you're his soulmate.

deep down, you knew it was best to tell him, he deserves to know after all. besides, it's not like the world will end if you tell him, right?

you were simply walking around windwail highland– looking for certain items for a commission when you spotted him standing not too far away.

your breath hitches when you see him looking at you direction, spotting you right away. oh crap.

without another thought, you immediately turned away and started jogging to the opposite direction, praying to barbatos that kaeya isn't followin–

"my, i didn't know you'd be a slow runner." you felt your heart jump from kaeya's sudden voice, causing you to stop your tracks in surpirse when you see kaeya jogging alongside you and stopped as well.

he chuckles at your reaction, crossing his arms with a stilled-grin plastered on his face. "so now you're not running away from me anymore?"

you tried to walk away after those words, only for kaeya to suddenly grip your wrist and stop you from going anywhere.

"what do you want, kaeya?" you ask calmly, trying not to look at the man behind you as you stare at the direction ahead.

his grip on your wrist didn't falter. "care to tell me why you're suddenly avoiding me like i'm a plague? did i say something wrong?" he asks.

"it's not that."

you stayed silent, now unsure what to say. you knew that you'd expose yourself right away the moment you lie in front of his face.

you then sighed, looking down at the ground in defeat. it's now or never.

"am i... a bother to you, kaeya?" you questioned, scared of his response. will he lie again?

his grin faltered, taken back by surprise from your question. "what?"

you turn behind to look at kaeya, causing him to let go of your wrist. "i... i need you to be honest with me. am i a bother to you?"

you watched as kaeya stayed silent, looking at you with a serious look. "what made you think of such thing–?"

"remember when i asked you if you wouldn't mind me asking you a favor?" you asked, furrowing your eyebrows. "do you remember what you said to me during that night?"

before kaeya could say anything, you slowly raise your arm to his eye level and lifted up your sleeves, showing him the exact words that he remembered saying on that night.

his grin completely disappeared.

"when i saw this the day after that, i had so many things to think about. i thought i should be happy that you're my soulmate– but why did... why did it had to be because of this lie?"

"y/n i–"

"i avoided you because i thought you think of me as a hindrance to you and i didn't.. i didn't want to bother you and your duty as the calvary captain." you explained, your shoulders slumped. "but i kept thinking if i told you that i'm your soulmate, you would've been disappo–"

your eyes widens when you felt his arms wrapping around you out of nowhere.

"i'm not disappointed that you're my soulmate, y/n." he said, hugging you in comfort. "if anything, i'm... relieved."

you furrowed your eyebrows. "what about... what about the favor? why did you lie–"

"i lied because it was a stressful day for me as well," he clarified. "yes, i did find favors bothersome at that time, but i never find you bothersome, so i had no choice but to say i'm okay with your favors because it's from you."

you felt yourself slowly relaxed when you didn't feel any itchy feeling around your body, letting out a sigh in relief as you continue to let kaeya hug you to his content.

"so does this mean.. you want me as your soulmate?" you ask hesitantly.

he smiles genuinely for the first time, holding onto you tighter and nodded.

"yes."

[sergeant-donny-donowitz]

Always (DonnyxReader)

A/N: it's got some supernatural/mythological stuff in it. I haven't written anything like this before, so it may not be your cup of tea, and it may be a heckin disaster XD  

Requested by @redroseedits

@owba-chan @war-obsessed @inglourious-imagines @tealaquinn @struggling-bee @frozenhuntress67 @kwyloz @sodapop182

Let me know if you wanna be added to the IB or OUATIH taglists! :) __________________________________

There was a harsh, red flash of light in the horizon, like a crimson strike of lightning in a dark storm as gloomy clouds began to gather overhead. Donny didn't know if he should trust his eyes anymore. He was hungry, tired, and beaten. There was a bullet hole in his chest.  But he wasn't done fighting. He'd been captured by a patrol of nazis, and was being held by them in the forest.

His eyes lingered on the sky, which looked totally normal now. But, it hadn't been the first time he saw that flash of red. It always seemed to be out of his reach, but beyond the end of the horizon. Sometimes, he reasoned it was nazis lighting fires to stay warm, but...it wasn't logical. Still, that was all he could come up with. No one else seemed to see the red light. He gave up asking if anybody else saw that. He looked around, one of his eyes was swelling up, and blood was dripping down his forehead. That was the least of his concerns. He’d be executed if he didn’t die from that bullet wound.  Still, he had hope in the basterds, and that he could pull through. At least, he still recognized where he was. They were in a part of the woods near the edge, close to a village. It wouldn't be long before the basterds came, Donny was sure of that. He didn't understand a word, but he knew they were jeering at someone (other than him, this time). He managed to look up, and saw the nazis were harrassing a passerby, probably from the town. The passerby was just trying to, well, pass by. Tall, almost bone-thing, and covered in a red, smooth cloak, pleading to be let go of in what sounded like French with an accent Donny, and frankly, anyone else there, couldn't pin point. The harrassing turned into interrogating, as one of the nazis grabbed the figure's arm. Turning, the cloak dropped down, exposing a face. Rotting strips of flesh clinging onto a grinning skull, as red eyes seemed to mock the nazis right back. The nazi that had grabbed the figure fell to his knees, shaking and screaming, as another nazi, their leader, managed to bark orders through his terror, "Töte es!" 'Kill it!' His voice was cracking, trembling seeing that the bullets did not stop the grinning, mocking bones. Donny shut his eyes, knowing it had to be a fever dream. That's all it could be. He heard a cackle. He opened his eyes, and saw that the camp fire was raging out of control, despite heavy rain drops beginning to pour. He felt the heat in his face, and he shut his eyes, collapsing from the pain and blood, listening to the shrieks of horror. The nazis' screams a lullaby to him. ***** When Donny opened his eyes, he was in the same place, but he was alone. He looked down at his chest, where he had been shot. His clothes were bloody, but there was no wound. Just a scar. The ropes around his wrists were cut, and lay just beside him, next to his bat, which had been confiscated days ago. He picked it up, his hand running slowly over the engraved names. Then he remembered. He remembered the skull... He didn't believe it, though. It had to have been delirium, from the wound! But... he couldn't figure out what happened to the nazis....or the wound itself. Still, he knew he had to get back to the basterds. He held his bat over his shoulder, and started to walk away. He took a single step, and felt a sickening, harsh crackle under his boot. Looking down, he saw fragments of a skull, accompanied by a nazi's dog tag. His eyes widened, and he turned around, realizing the campfire was still smouldering, and was surrounded by the remains of the nazis and their tags. Anyone other than a basterd would had run away in fear, but he was mostly perplexed. Maybe he was still dreaming? He just walked away, deciding not to think about it. Still, there was a sly smirk on his face... If it was a dream, it may have been his favorite one. Still, the further he walked into the woods, he couldn't help but realize just how strange things were. He knew this part of the forest like the back of his hand, and somehow, he couldn't recognize a thing. "Where the fuck am I?" "Where, indeed." He turned, and saw you. Perhaps the most beautiful person he'd seen in his life. You seemed innocent enough, though...the accent...Not quite French, or German, not even Swiss, or Italian. Not anything he'd heard so far in the war, and he'd heard a million and one accents at that point. He got closer to you, his head tilted to the side, and suddenly, his breath caught.

You were wearing a soft red cloak. Cunning eyes, seeming to dare him to follow, and a grin playing on your lips. His voice was nearly a whisper, which for Donny Donowitz, was rare. "Who are you?" You simply giggled. The notes of your laugh had the smoothness of the moonlight, and the power of a war cry. It struck him, far more than your accent had, though he needed to know, "Where are you from?" You laughed again, and it unsettled him, "What's your name? Wh...who are you with?" "That's hard to answer, boy." You grinned, as you stepped closer to him. He saw that your skin was as smooth as the cloak, appearing timeless. You seemed to be young, but the way you spoke threw him off. It wasn't just the accent, it was sheer power in your few words. And...why did you call him boy? He was sure he was older than you, you couldn't be any older than Utivich... He raised an eyebrow, "Alright, here's an easy question, how old are you?" You shrugged, as a playful smirk tugged at your lips, "If I knew, I'd tell you, boy." He threw his hands up in frustration, "Oh what? Asking people's ages is rude, that it?" You leaned against a tree, "I'd tell you my age if I knew it, boy. But time itself had no name when I first woke." He narrowed his eyes, "Ok. You're on something, aren't you?" Your lack of answers only made him ask even more.  "Where are you from?" Even that had no definitive answer. "From the soil where the first violent drop of mankind's blood fell. Under the sky that heard the first war cry." "So you wanna play games, huh?" He started walking away, but took no more than three steps before sighing and coming to a stop, "If you're gonna follow me, then at least tell me your name, kid." You laughed again, and he soon started to wonder if you had been behind what happened to the nazis. "What are you?" This time, you didn't laugh. "Your language has no name for what I am." He stared at you, seemingly confused, but not the least bit scared. "I was here when the huns first marched through those trees." "So what, 1940? You been hiding out here for three years? That it?" You shook your head, "I mean the huns. And the visigoths." Donny blinked. "Just what I needed. A crazy kid followin' me around. Fuck's sake." You giggled, and caught up to him, "You humans never change..." "What?" You smirked, and brushed his cheek. His breath caught again, as he looked into your eyes, seeing the depth of a millenia as your voice mellowed his heart, "I was here when Rome rose. I watched from that hill as it fell. I was here when the world beyond the mediterranean was nothing but a myth." "A myth?" "I hear there are seven lands now," You grinned, and he nodded slowly, "C-continents? Sure.... You...feel ok?" You grinned, taking a step forward, looking up at the trees and sky that you called home, "I was here before Napoleon marveled at this land from Corsica. When the vikings first ventured on their ships, when those darling Mark Antony and Cleopatra turned this world upside down. I was by Alexander the Great when he took the horizon. I was there when Sparta fell to ashes. I was there was when Hammurabi's code was first written. I was thousands of years old by then...anything I saw before then, your books have no memory of." "You're saying that you're....a...You're not...." You nodded, "Not human." Again, anyone else would have been terrified, but Donny was more intrigued than anything else....somehow it didn't seem right to pry. "Do you know what year it is?" "1943." Donny was more at ease, grinning himself as he remarked, "So you're not completely insane." "Well, you said 1940 was three years ago. Unless you mortals have gone and changed your dreadful number system," You sneered, and shook your head, remembering the exact moment you knew generations of students would be doomed with those infernal figures, "The year must be 1943." You smiled kindly, as you sat by the roots of an ancient tree you'd known as a sapling, "I'm old, not senile, boy." Donny was overcome with a wave of ease, and felt a need to sit. It would be rude to leave you there, after all. He sat by a tree, across from you. He looked around, still not recognizing where he was. The sun was setting, judging by the dark red tint sifting through the leaves. He leaned his head against the tree, and you sat in silence for some time. As the first distant stars began to emerge, he asked, "That was you, wasn't it?" "What was me?" "The thing that scared the nazis, and burned them." The only response he received was the sound of your laugh, and somehow, that put him at ease as his eyes began to droop with dreams. 

******* When he woke, the sun was beginning to break through the leaves again, and he realized you'd covered him with your cloak. Looking at you, ethereal, like a fleeting daydream. Looking at you was like looking at an ancient statue, or an old painting of a nameless myth. He wrapped your cloak back around you, and began to walk down the forest, hoping to find his way. He'd been walking for an hour or two, and stopped to rest under a tree. Then, he heard your voice, which startled him a little. "You're lost." "... No I'm not." "Which way's north, then?" You grinned, as you emerged from the dense brush up ahead. "...." You sighed, "That way, boy." He got a little defensive. You know, back in Boston, he wasn't the type of guy that like to ask for directions. He crossed his arms, and began to mutter, "My name isn't ‘boy,’." "Well, you never told me your name," You shrugged with a sly smirk, knowing exactly how he'd retort. "You never told me yours." You nodded, "So it would seem." His frown turned into a chuckle, and cheeky grin as he started to walk along with you. You glanced at him through the side of your eye, and grinned. He was chaotic.  A man of vengeance. You knew spirits like his, long before. They were rare, and the ones enemies feared the most. You smiled, when you caught a glimpse of him. You'd long admired him from afar... When you stopped for him to drink water from a creek, you asked, "You're the one these 'huns' are scared of, aren't you?" He chuckled, "That would be me, doll." He froze for a moment, questioning why he'd called you that. He hoped you wouldn't catch on to it, and from the looks of it, you hadn't. But you knew far more than he could ever imagine, and hid a blush and grin expertly. "They say you're a golem." You smirked, "But I don't think you're made of clay..." Donny felt your cool hands running over his shoulders, and he smirked, turning around, taking you in his arms, "So you've been watching me?" You winked, "Always."

He laughed as he let you sift through his hands like sand, "So, what are you made of?" You smirked, knowing he could take it. So you showed him. Your hair was made of fire. Your eyes became the piercing color of midnight. Your grin was the incarnation of chaos. Your clothes were forged into armor, a kind that hadn't been forged in thousand years. "Y...you're a  d-demon...." You shook your head, as the fire died down to an ash, the smoke falling back into place as your (h/c) hair. The darkness in your eyes diluting into the laughing (e/c) pools that eased him. Your armor covered again by clothes of the era and your cloak. Your grin stayed your own. "I'm a trickster, with an allegiance to Themis, Tyr, Justitia...whatever you've named her this time." "Justice?" You nodded, "I'm a spirit of combat, and justice. The Greeks had a name for my sisters and I." He had composed himself by then, eased by your voice, and your promise of justice. "What did they call you?" "The Greeks called us the Hysminai..." You sighed, looking down into the creek, wondering what had become of them. You knew what humans were capable of, so you didn't linger on the thought. "But we're a long way from those empires now, aren't we, boy?"

You spotted your reflection in the water, looking into the forgotten legend, into the very face of combat. You sat by the edge, and in a moment, he followed. "I haven't seen them since..." Donny spoke softly, "Must be lonely..." You didn't want to dwell. "Living a life other than a mortal one? It gets lonely and boring...Especially when mortals are at peace." He chuckled, and looked into the water with you. "You have brothers, don't you, boy?" "Donny." You glanced at him, then smiled softly, just as the water rippled so he wouldn't see. "You have brothers, Donny. Others fighting with you." He nodded, "I don't know where they are." "I'll take you to them." "Thank you...." You looked at him, and told him your name "Y/n..." It had been nearly a thousand years since a human knew your name. You hadn't heard it uttered since then, on a battlefield covered in blood, your hand entangled around the hand of a warrior whose name was forgotten by history, but not by you, as you brought him before victory and vengeance, as he watched a red haze of light, with a grin on his face. You looked at Donny, before he could say anything, and said "You're tired, and unclean." "Hey!" You smiled, "Here, to the riverbank." He raised his eyebrow, definitely lost. There were no rivers near where the basterds were hiding out. You laughed as you walked him to the edge, "It's no wonder your enemies found you. All they had to do was follow your scent." Donny groaned, and splashed some water at you. You giggled, as your hand turned to fire, and turned the water to steam mid air. You turned your back, and waited among the trees. As Donny stepped into the river, his hand rested on his chest, over the scar. He glanced back at you, and didn't even have to ask. It had been you who saved him, he had no doubt.  When he was done washing up, he joined you by the trees, "How did you find me?" "I was never too far from you, soldier," you grinned cunningly, "I'm a spirit of combat and justice. That's what you've wanted all along, isn't it?" He grinned, his hands finding their way to your hips, "Damn right, Y/n..." It had been near a thousand years since you found a soul like his, made from the ashes of revenge, forged in a flame of honor. It had just been so long.... You kissed him. He kissed you... In a moment, his bat and your cloak were left on the ground, shortly followed by the rest of your clothes and armor. *********** Your head was resting on his bare chest, his hand laced into your hair, as his arm snaked around your shoulders. His heartbeat was like the beat of a war drum, music to your ears. You knew a mortal's life was fleeting. Especially that of a good warrior like him. Your cool hand rested over his chest, "Promise to always fight for what's in your heart." You felt him pull you in tighter to his side, as he murmured, "Always." When he woke the next morning, he followed you deeper into the forest, your hand entwined in his, "You must go back to your brothers." "I don't know where the fuck we are. I don't know where they are." You pointed deep into the forest. In the distance was a low, red haze, a dim light calling to Donny. "Follow the light, my soldier boy." He took a reluctant step forward, then looked back at you, "Will I see you again?" You laughed that laugh that echoed like a thundering war cry, and eased him like a lullaby, "You're at war, boy. Don't you remember?" His hand stroked your cheek, "I'll always remember." You smiled, and with a kiss, you sent him away. When he turned to take one last glance at you, you were gone. He followed the dim red light. Once again, it always seemed to be just out of his reach. He was beginning to stagger, tired of wandering for days without a soul to speak to, wondering how you could go on like that for an eternity. Just then, the lights vanished, and somehow, his heart shattered, thinking he was lost forever. "Y/n?" "Donny! Where the hell have you been?! God damn it!"  That accent was unmistakably southern, and unmistakably that of his lieutenant. Donny laughed in relief, "Aldo?!" Aldo emerged from the brush, followed by the rest of the basterds, with a myriad of questions.

"Where have you been?" "Krauts we been getting said they got you!" "What the hell happened out there?!" He simply grinned, knowing if he told them a word, he'd be discharged and locked in an asylum. They'd heard rumors of a nazi patrol being burned alive. "How'd you make it out of all this?!" Donny chuckled, waving his bat over his shoulder, "How do you think?" The basterds laughed, and as they carried on, Aldo said, "Got word there's a kraut patrol fuckin' 'round bout ten miles north from here. You up to it?" Donny looked north, into the horizon, spotting a low red light beginning to glow. He smirked, and spoke softly with a nod, "Always."

[unfortunatelyevent]

Last 10 Fics Tag Meme

Rules: Post the first lines of your last ten fics read or written and then tag others to do the same.

so i saw this and i really liked it so i’m doing it

1. Visceral Reactions by STARSdidathing (frostiron)

Tony wasn’t entirely sure how it happened.

One moment, he was chained to a wall in Loki’s latest warehouse lair and the mage was monologing. Tony was delivering his usual snarky one liners in response and Loki was trying not to look amused.

They were enemies just doing their thing and passing time until someone could save Tony (or he could save himself).

The point was, Loki was mid-monologue, throwing in some “mortals are beneath me, I hate you all” crap. Tony was rebutting that Loki was an Asgardian snob and, a total liar because he knew Loki liked a lot of Earth food, clothing and music.

Loki was towering over him and glowering.

And then... then they were kissing.

2. Friends Don’t Let Friends by theorytale (frostiron)

Steve was angling his shield to deflect a blast from Loki's staff, when out of nowhere the Hulk dropped down - splintering the concrete under their feet - and scooped Loki up in one massive green hand. Steve cringed reflexively even as he relaxed his stance. Loki was an evil bastard, sure, but watching Hulk use him like that whack-a-mole game was just… uncomfortable.

Only, Hulk didn't smash.

Loki struggled uselessly, yelling for the Hulk to put him down. It was kind of funny how fast the guy could go from menacing and legitimately frightening to… kind of pitiful. The cognitive dissonance gave Steve a headache.

Hulk lifted Loki up and peered at him intently, brow furrowed. "What puny god's intentions?"

3. Obliviousness Can Lead To True Love by pointnclickbait (science boyfriends)

Bruce swore softly shooting a glance at his watch as he hurried to the next presentation. This conference was turning out to be more hectic than he had expected. He had been hoping to catch a couple of presentations in particular but had already managed to miss some of them. The one he was hoping to attend the most was after the one he was currently running to. He really hoped he didn’t miss it. He paused at the entrance to the conference room to catch his breath before entering. He stepped in and scanned the room before hurrying to the one free space he could see. He settled down just as the speaker took to the floor.

He was so invested in what he was hearing that he forgot to keep an eye on the time and wasn’t aware of it until he was applauding the conclusion of the presentation. He looked at his watch absentmindedly before doing a double take when he saw the time. Swearing loudly this time he tried to squeeze his way through the crowd. By the time he finally escaped the room more precious time had elapsed. Inevitably by the time he reached his destination there was no possible way that he could have gotten inside. He let out a sigh of frustration and scrubbed his hand through his hair. It looked like he wasn’t getting into Tony Stark’s talk after all. He dropped his hand with another sigh. He’d been looking forward to the talk all weekend. It was the reason he had asked to have his presentation given so early, he had been hoping that he wouldn’t have to worry about the talks clashing. He swallowed his disappointment and headed for the dining hall hoping to eat his feelings.

4. The Language of Love by 1derspark (kaysanova)

To be in Jerusalem is to be hard of hearing.

Nicolo learns quickly there was no silence to be had in the city. Even on the way here, there is noise: the breaking of waves against a Genoese ship, the clamor of a thousand knights and horses, their armor clattering like heavy shells on the march to the holy city.

There is never silence. In Jerusalem it’s as if God were screaming, and with every hoarse screech the devil answered.

The battlefield is everywhere, and so is the blood. The sound of death, the sound of pain. Nicolo has dreamed in war cries for years, so this did not bother him. He dreamed in black curls, a dark helm pulled over an angry face, teeth bared and chattering in a language he did not understand but would soon come to hear very frequently.

He meets this man — the one that roars and tramples down swathes of armies beneath his feet — not too long after the fighting starts.

5. Here We Are, Born to be Kings by Purple_ducky00 (iron husbands)

“Your Highness. Lord Stark is here to see you.” Quentin Beck holds up his nose.

Prince James Rhodes rolls his eyes. It’s not like Beck should judge. He was only hired because his family was in serious debt.  Tony is working out of his.

Tony walks in a few minutes later, hair askew. “Wow, Rhodey, your servants hate me. I call it an achievement.”

“They just think it’s ok to judge since their scandals happened long ago enough for people to forget. You don’t deserve this.”

“I probably do.” Tony shrugs. “It doesn’t bother me. Actually, it gives me the chance to ditch my politeness because they already dislike me.”

6. Impossible Things by accioromulus (wolfstar)

Sirius arrives at the party two hours late and covered in snow. Facebook had suggested around thirty people were coming—a number which already threatened to overwhelm James and Lily’s tiny flat. When Sirius arrives at just past ten however, he immediately wishes he’d brought a sledge hammer, if only to make it past the front door. It’s clear that no less than fifty guests had burrowed their way inside. They stand in every corner, filling the narrow hallways and spilling out from every room, their faces vaguely familiar to him, their chattering bright and enthusiastic. Music drifts in from the sitting room, and it takes Sirius a moment to recognize it, bizarrely, as Christmas Carols, despite the New Years Eve decorations strung about the walls. He turns a corner, attempting suave and casual, but instead narrowly avoids a party-goer's over-enthusiastic elbow by crashing into Lily Evans.

7. greater love has no one than this by Jack_R (kaysanova) ((THIS IS A FAVE))

‘I am not going to Rum,’ Yusuf said. ‘They are filthy, depraved degenerates, and I will not bring dishonour on the house of my father by consorting with these Greeks dogs.’

‘I thought your mother was Greek,’ Niccolò said, mildly.

‘Then you should trust me when I say that their entire civilisation is simply beyond saving,’ Yusuf said.

8. fearfully and wonderfully made by bethecowboy (kaysanova)

Yusuf’s blood buzzes so hard through his veins that it takes all his effort to stay still. Every part of him longs for motion, for justice, for a swift end to the constant exhaustion.

He always calms his limbs, his mind, in time for Fajr: his forehead kisses the ground as the new sun soaks the sand in deep russet oranges. Light glints of the breastplates of dead Christians; it caresses the faces of his fallen brothers who had died defending the outer wall.

9. Genus and Species by 27dragons, tisfan (winteriron)

When Bucky opened his eyes, all he could see was green in all directions. At first he thought that was just the remainder of the Time Stone’s power. Thanos had done… something. No one quite knew what because the battle had been so confusing; the Power Stone blasting purple rays everywhere, the Space Stone moving people out of position, lord only knew what was happening with the Reality Stone. And then there had been a great, green wave of energy--

“Ug,” said someone nearby. It took Bucky a moment to clear his thoughts enough to identify it: Tony. “I feel like a Pride parade just swallowed me whole and then puked me out.” A pause. “Why are we in a jungle?”

10. Through The Years by hawkbucks (winteriron)

Tony is 8 and Natasha is 12 when Tony brings Natasha home for the first time.

“Mamma!” he brightly exclaims as soon as Maria opens the door, holding up one of his hands that is intertwined with one of Natasha’s. “This is Natasha! She helped me while I was walkin’ home from school today.” Before Maria can say anything, Tony is already rushing past her, dragging his newfound friend into the living room with him. He leads her to the rather lavish, cream-colored couch that’s bigger than necessary and tells her to sit down, letting go of her hand.

“Some’a the kids at school were followin’ me and sayin’ bad things to me,” Tony starts to explain as he takes off his patent leather shoes, remembering what his mother said about tracking dirt into the house. “But Natasha made ‘em go away. Then she said she’d keep walkin’ with me so that I’d get home all safe. She was really awesome!”

and that’s that, i have to say that i absolutelly love and rec all of these!

ok i’m tagging: @natyhunter @atypical-snowman @simplyclockwork @camp-half-dumbass and whoever wants!!! (also everyone i tagged please don’t feel obligated!!!)

[txladyj-blog]

This Time Around - Chapter 28

A Daryl Dixon x OFC collaboration written by @xmistressmistrustx​ by request of @txladyj-blog​

Rating: Explicit

Relationship: Daryl Dixon/Original Female Character

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

Chapters 30/?

Through the winding country roads that soon turned into city streets, some blocked by crowds of Walkers and some clear enough for Jess to race through like a bat out of hell, her anticipation only grew stronger. Daryl was silently monitoring their progress on the map and keeping tabs on the intermittent tire tracks and oily drips on the road’s surface. Carl clung to the window in the back seat like a frightened child. But Jess knew it wasn’t the world outside the vehicle that was alarming him, it was the prospect of losing the girl he cared for if they failed to find her or they were too late. His boot tapped nervously on the frame of the drivers chair and Jess could feel a constant, droning vibration rise up through the seat. It irritated her, but she kept quiet, her patience now thinner than she was comfortable with.

The sun was low in the sky and with that came a simmering sense of dread for Daryl, who was more than aware that if they lost the light, they also lost their opportunity to extract Enid from her demise before any harm could come to her. He couldn’t have anyone else die, no one else could be lost. He’d already shouldered every single one and blamed himself for the group’s numbers diminishing. Should have done more, acted with more haste, thought quicker or just done something, anything to save the people they’d lost. It was an unavoidable side effect of being more sensitive than he cared to admit – or so Carol told him. She’d advised him after the death of Maggie’s younger sister that he had to allow himself to feel it. He didn’t know how she’d noticed that his very soul was starting to crumble, but he needed to hear those words, more than he’d realized and since then, he’d allowed a small semblance of feeling through, just enough to continue on. But Jess was changing that by charging through his barriers and forcing him to face feelings he didn’t know how to handle.

He stole a glimpse of her, hunched over the steering wheel and squinting at a passing road sign that was broken in half. They were heading out of the city, having worked their way around the outskirts and with each passing mile, Daryl’s mind began to wander to the conversation they’d had in the fairground before Carl arrived and dumped one hell of a problem in the middle of it all. He’d said what he wanted to say, but something told him it still wouldn’t suffice in Jess’s mind and all that was left to do was hope that he’d bought himself enough time to figure things out properly. Their dynamic had shifted, evolved and flourished, even, into something terrifying yet strangely addictive and although his attention was resolute when it came to finding Enid, being able to kiss Jess was never far from his thoughts.

“Stop!” Carl yelled from behind them. His voice shot through the silence like a knife through butter and Jess found herself having to take a deep breath due to being so startled. She hit the breaks and the car skidded to an abrupt halt, sending all three of them surging forwards momentarily. “Look. Through there. High walls and lights.” He pointed out while twisting his torso to fit through the gap between the seats. Jess pushed Carl back through to the back by shoving at his shoulder and punched at the clip on the glove box. It sprang open and she clawed at its contents, sending litter and dust scattering across Daryl’s lap. He blinked slowly and turned his head to her but she ignored the cross look he was presenting her with. Finally, she found what she was looking for and pulled out the heavy binoculars. Bringing them to her eyes, she waited for her vision to adjust and surveyed the scene before them. At the end of the tree-lined street, a high wall loomed up with floodlights positioned every few yards along it. She could detect no sign of any people, but she knew well enough that it was not wise to assume anything.

“That’s a college.” Daryl mused to himself as he peered through the dusty windscreen.

“Mm” Jess hummed in agreement. “Lights are on but it looks like nobody is home.”

“Somebody’s home alright.” Daryl confirmed with a quiet confidence. He knew better than most that even the most abandoned places could surprise a weary traveler with their guard down and they were not looking at an abandoned college, the beaming lights in the evening glow were a sure sign that they may have reached their destination.

“Do you think she’s in there?” Carl asked.

A memory abruptly caught Jess’s attention; The city. The group she’d seen having been the reason she left. The same group from the woods, the same group that attacked Alexandria and shot Daryl. It could well have been where they came from.

“I think she is” She admitted with a quick look at Daryl who caught her eye and offered her a short nod to signal that he was in agreement. He clicked open the car door and grabbed his crossbow from the foot-well. Jess shot a hand out and grabbed his wrist.

“Wait.” She ordered. Her eyes met his and in them, he observed a complex mixture of worry, fear and a need for some clarification. “How are we doing this?”

It was quite simple to Daryl. Carl was staying out of harm’s way, locked in the car where no one, living or dead, could get at him. As for Jess – putting her in the firing line wasn’t an option. He would keep her with him and protect her with his life, using her only to cover him if he needed it.

“He’s stayin’ right here” he said with a nudge of his head at Carl “And you’re followin’ my lead.”

Her forehead wrinkled and she released a sigh through her nose. Daryl had known Jess long enough by that point to be able to predict what she was about to say and if he was a betting man, he would have put money on her need to protest.

“Why are you leading? I can lead.” She stated.

“You really gonna argue with me about everythin’?! Get outta the car n’ let’s go find the girl.” He instructed firmly and with a wave of his hand. A loud scoff and a mumble followed Jess’s exit from the car. Before she closed the door, she crawled hallway back inside, far enough to come face-to face with Carl. Saying nothing, she presented him with a stern look and a finger pointed right at him. She didn’t need words to relay how important it was that he stayed where he was and Carl was under no illusions that if he was to disobey her again, she was likely to cut him into little pieces with the machete hanging from her belt.

 She’d seen it a million times before in movies, the silent hand gestures made by the military and some characters with no such background that somehow appeared to just know them by heart. But Jess was an Army brat and knew her stuff when it came to deciphering instructions told with the use of one hand. Daryl, having apparently picked up a thing or two, was pleased to find that she understood his every order and scuttled across the street close behind him. The two of them hovered behind a burned-out car, fingers curling over the edge of the holes where the windows once were and Jess tried to blink away the slight blur in her vision after so long spent driving and focusing on the roads. She was thankful that her now natural requisite for planning, gained while living alone in the city, meant she’d had the forethought to keep a packed backpack by the door of the diner that contained her gloves, mask, arm guard holsters and hooded jacket. Carl’s random appearance in the backseat of the car also meant that she had time to suit up before they progressed even further. Her gear not only acted as protection but also as a confidence booster. If she felt equipped enough for whatever she may encounter, she would be more inclined to panic less and think more.

Up ahead, Daryl detected movement. Only slight but enough for him to be even more sure that the compound behind the walls was occupied with the living and that they’d more than likely found where Enid was being held. He carefully observed the view, counting two figures by a gate that, judging by its mismatched wooden panels, had been erected long since the turn.

“Two guards on the gate” He whispered to Jess who had one hand on the rusty shell of the car and the other clutched around the handle of her machete.

“Yup. You distract them. I’ll sneak in.” She told him.

“No. No way. Ya ain’t goin’ in there.” He countered without hesitation. “If they catch ya, it’s over.”

Apparently unbothered by his dismissal of her proposal, she moved her hand up to her bow and unhooked it from across her torso. She then slid an arrow from the quiver and gripped it tightly in her gloved fist. Risking a small peep through the car to her target, she shifted backwards and finally caught Daryl’s waiting eye.

“If they catch me, they’ll keep me alive. If they catch you, they’ll kill you on the spot.” She pointed out.

He couldn’t argue with her reasoning, she was correct, after all. They wouldn’t dither about putting him down if they found him, much like they didn’t when they walked into Alexandria and slaughtered almost a third of the population for sport. They would most certainly keep Jess alive too and that thought was enough to make him want to bundle her back into the car and lock the doors.

“Look at me.” He growled as she fumbled with her mask, tugging it up and over her mouth and nose. “You are not goin’ in there.”

“I’ll be fi-“

“-Jesus fuckin’ Christ, Jess.” He hissed “Now, you listen to me and you listen real good; we ain't got time for your stubborn shit right now. I am not arguin’ with you about this. If you really wanna be involved then you’re gonna shut the fuck up n’ do as I say or so help me god, I will lock you in that car with the kid n’ do this myself.”

Sure that his rant had hit home, he waited for her reaction, only to find that her eyes brightened and she tilted her head back slightly. Under her mask, she was smiling.

“Are you scolding me, Stinky?” She challenged.

“Uh, yes… I am.” He replied meekly, unable to mask the fact that her refusal to bow to his demands had left him feeling rather sheepish.

“Okay, fine” She sang with a roll of her eyes “I’ll make a ruckus out here, try and keep things going as long as I can.”

“No.” He refused blankly “We do this together.”

“Daryl, there is no way we are getting in there without a distraction. You know that.” She argued.

His shoulders slumped and he dropped one knee onto the ground to stabilize himself from his crouching position. His vision lowered and he shook his head slowly. Jess heard him sigh and for a moment, began to worry that she was annoying him with the confidence she had in her plan. She quickly checked the scene beyond the car and found it to be much the same, no one had detected them yet.

“I ain’t leavin’ ya alone. I can’t” she heard him utter from her side.

He cut quite the somber figure, kneeling with his head bowed at first before gradually lifting it to find her looking at him with a slightly bemused expression. It was dawning on her that he was disagreeing so vehemently because he cared. He cared about her and wanted her to stay by his side. Far from wanting to push him away or send him back into his shell, she mirrored him and leaned her weight on one knee.

“I promise I’ll be carefu-”

His hand covering hers on her knee silenced her and her mouth hung open as she glanced down at his fingers brushing the back of her hand. The arrow she held was pinned down against her knee and grew hot when her palm flushed with warmth.

“Please.” He urged upon an exhalation. “I can’t lose you”

Not even a full day had passed and Jess had been gifted with not one almost confession, but two. It was the closest thing she’d had to some clarity about what was happening between them and so far, she was knocked for six by his unexpected and moderately forthright change of tact. She now understood that he was interested enough not only to continue kissing her, but also to unashamedly present his anxiety about leaving her alone during a rescue mission. To Jess, it was hard to imagine that she had provoked feelings in Daryl that surpassed friendship and while she still remained skeptical and slightly guarded, a part of her hoped that given time, she would be blessed with the kind of confession she only dared to dream about.

“Carl can see us” She mentioned after hearing a shuffle from the direction of the car they’d arrived in. She could near enough feel Carl staring at them through the window without even having to look for herself.

“I don’t care.” He breathed with his lips barely moving and his body statue still, his eyes pinned on hers.

She swallowed hard and dreaded having to make her point once more. But she believed with everything she had that a distraction was their best chance and if she stated her case logically, Daryl would be forced to admit that she was right. She leaned towards him and looked right at him.

“They’re not going to catch me. I survived alone for so long because I am good at blending into the shadows. You know this makes sense. I can do this. I can fight. You know I can because you helped train me.” She explained.

His hand instantly lifted from hers and her skin flashed with the coldness of his absence. He pawed at his face, rubbing his eyes and growling to himself.

“Fine” He grumbled. “But you be careful, use ya smarts n’ if shit goes down, you run to the car and get yourself and Carl the hell outta here. Do you hear me? You do not go inside those walls and you do not come lookin’ for me.”

“Alright. I won’t.” She replied as she started to stand on both feet, keeping her body low behind the car.

Yeah, right. Like I’d ever leave without you, Stinky.

“Go” He ordered with a nudge of his head in the direction of the gate. She readied her bow, pushing her shoulders back and shaking her head as if to shake off the fear that was bubbling in the pit of her stomach.

“I need you to live. You hear me?” Daryl added out of nowhere. Jess’s body stilled and she fought the urge to lunge at him and kiss him but with Carl watching on, she refrained from putting them in a situation that would later be difficult to explain.

“If I don’t, you can have my T-shirts and the fairground.” She joked instead. But his stony expression didn’t waiver for even a second and her heart ached.

“I’m serious.” He pointed out needlessly. She knew he was serious; it was written all over his face and in the depths of his worried eyes. Time was ticking away and as much as she wanted to stay with him and debate the ramifications of losing her and exactly how much he would miss her if she was gone, she had to get moving and leaving things on such a heavy and emotionally draining note was far from appealing to her.

“You started an important conversation earlier. It’d be rude of me to die half way through” she reminded him. It was sneaky, she was willing to admit that much, but no matter what happened since their conversation at the fairground, Jess wanted to make sure that the topic wasn’t just forgotten about. She still wanted a definitive answer and although she couldn’t even begin to figure out how, she had a backlog of things she wanted to say stored up in her mind.

“You’re so fuckin’ weird.” He huffed with a small smile.

“Ahh, you like me that way.” She brought her hand up, the arrow pinched between her palm and thumb and waved him off as she backed up to the sidewalk.

“I do. Be careful” He replied.

“You too, don’t get shot again. Or Nurse Jess will make another appearance” She quipped while sliding the arrow into the compound bows arrow rest. Her concentration on her weapon meant that she missed the point when Daryl’s face broke into a rare and wide smile.

“Don’t tempt me” He grinned.

Her eyes shot up to him and a rush of air left her lungs in a bashful laugh.

“Huh. Shut up.” She chuckled before standing up straight, walking out into the middle of the road and striding boldly towards the gate with her bow held up and ready, the bowstrings and arrow drawn back, taut and threatening.

-

A new bow and some mediocre practice didn’t necessarily mean accurate aim for Jess, who was used to her ancient relic of a weapon that she’d collected from the Renaissance Faire and lovingly restored and modified to her advantage. Her newer, more modern replacement was not without its issues, it felt completely different but the one saving grace of such a weapon swap was that she was now able to eject arrows that were notably faster than before and that meant that they were even more lethal.

Daryl didn’t even realize his hands were shaking as he watched Jess strutting along the middle of the road and nearing the lion’s den. When he lifted his crossbow from his shoulder, he found himself having to pause as he looked down at his fingers trembling against the handle. It was bizarre to him, even in the most perilous of situations, he hadn’t felt such trepidation. But his concern was not for himself, it was for the woman that was bravely facing the enemy head-on and putting herself at risk of death. The woman that had changed him. The only woman he’d ever flirted with. The woman he kissed. The first and only woman he’d ever cared about.

C’mon. Focus. She needs you to focus. She’s gonna be fine. She’s got this. She’s got balls bigger than mine.

Yelling in the distance meant he rapidly crawled across the floor, peeked around the back end of the car and held his breath.

-

The arrow narrowly missed the left gate guards head and Jess grunted in disapproval as she equipped another arrow and took aim for the second time.

“Fuck a duck” She hissed to herself “Thought I had that in the bag.”

The man’s shout of surprise alerted more people beyond the barrier and the structure exploded with movement like rabbits running at the sound of a shotgun.

Hah. Look at them all run. She thought with a smirk.

The second arrow embedded in the wood behind the gate guard on the right. He ducked and dramatically covered his head as if the sky were about to implode on top of him. While the other one screamed at the top of his lungs that they were under attack. Despite being in the center of the street, in plain view and not far enough away for them to have missed her, Jess could only assume that the two guards were not the brightest bulbs in the box and so, she raised a hand in a wave.

“Hey, Dumbasses!” She cried.

At the sound of her voice, both men at the gate and two more that had appeared at the top of the wall on ladders all froze and stared at her. The scene was so comical and surprisingly scatter-brained to Jess that she couldn’t help but laugh.

“Y’all are a few fries short of a happy meal in there, huh? I’m right here!” She announced at the top of her voice, throwing her arms up with her bow in the air. One of the men at the gate readied a rifle and lowered his head to the scope and someone, though Jess couldn’t tell who, ordered for the gate to be opened. “Now we’re talkin’. C’mon out, kittie, kittie, kitties.” She urged under her breath.

When the gate clunked and began to open, she took it as her cue to turn and run. Her boots hit the asphalt so hard that the soles of her feet stung and from the corner of her eye, she noted Daryl crossing in front of the houses, moving stealthily from car to car, using the bushes for cover. Her heart started to thud in her chest when she veered off to the opposite side of the road to Daryl, vanishing along the side of a house as the sound of boots on the ground and men throwing instructions at one another closed in.

-

One…Two…Three… Daryl counted

“Four…five. Shit. There’s five on her tail.” He whispered to himself while he edged closer to the gate behind the cover of a truck with smashed windows. He craned his neck when he reached the rear of the vehicle and spotted a single guard atop of the wall, perfectly distracted by trying to follow his comrades in pursuit of Jess through a pair of binoculars. Inside, the coast seemed to be clear and Daryl, with his crossbow ready, managed to cross the threshold of the gate and scoped out his surroundings after ducking behind a heavily reinforced truck. Bit by bit, he took in the strange sight of the vehicle, thinking that it was like something from Mad Max. He’d watched the movie with Merle when he was high and the real deal was even more vivid than the technicolor images he’d seen back then. The windows were covered with metal, holes and gaps harshly punched through the surface to provide vision. The tires were over-sized, heavy duty and quite obviously not the originals. On the sides of the truck, spikes protruded from the bodywork and Daryl had to carefully maneuver in-between them to prevent himself from being impaled by the rusty, blood covered points. He positioned himself behind one of the huge wheels and waited. Footsteps scuffed past and orders were being barked from one man to another. He counted at least five different voices as he eased forwards, peering under the truck and spotting a building opposite with low windows. He jumped and his stomach knotted at the sounds of distant gunshots.

Jess.

-

Climbing wasn’t exactly on the top of Jess’s skills list, especially when it came to scaling the fences of back yards with a group of dangerous men chasing her. Having tripped twice and ripping the arm of her jacket, her patience was struggling not to crack. But through sheer pig-headedness she pressed on, the massive inconvenience of it all and the need for it to be over was enough for her to summon the energy to toss herself over yet another wooden paneled fence. Grateful for her leather-palmed gloves and her thick jacket, her skin was sore but well protected when she scaled what felt like the hundredth, ten-foot wall. Reaching the top, time seemed to kick into slow-motion and she blinked in surprise. Her hands had let go of the structure and the dusty, cracked ground was suddenly a lot nearer than she’d anticipated. Her heart lurched and her muscles constricted. Before she could even register that she was falling, she landed with a thump. Her shoulder screamed in pain from the landing and her bow was sent clattering across the dust. She rolled onto her back and clutched the top of her arm in attempt to check if her joint had been knocked out of place again. Pain hummed through her nerves as she threw her head back and puffed out a muffled cry of agony. The faint patter of boots on the ground was the thing that got her to her feet and she rotated her shoulder, relieved to discover that it was still in its rightful place. She retrieved her bow, brushed the dust from her jacket and shook her head briefly.

“Son of a gun.” She uttered “Ouch.”

That was about as graceful as an elephant on a slide. Parkour is definitely on the list for training session ideas.

A plan. She could hear a plan being formed. Two men in the next yard. She had been lucky they didn’t hear her messy, undignified collision with the floor. She linked her arm under the bows upper limb and hooked it up onto her good shoulder while slowly and stealthily sliding the knife Daryl had gifted her so long ago from its sheath on her belt. Her steps could barely be detected as she tiptoed along the fence to the gate at the side of the house, pleased and annoyed that the path turned to grass half way along. If only she’d known that when she was on the other side. Finding the gate unlocked, she inched it open and spun around, pressing her back to the wall and keeping her blade up as she waited for the movement on the other side of the fence to approach. To her delight, she found that her target succeeded her own lack of grace and trundled noisily towards the gate, swearing to himself and coughing.

Rolling her eyes at the shocking level of stupidity being displayed, she felt a rush of confidence when the door eased open and the man stepped into view. Holding his gun out in front of him proved to be fruitless when Jess knocked it clean from his hand with one swipe and threw her entire body weight at him, sending them both crashing into the door. Before she even had time to think, she had managed to work her blade into the space between his neck and the wood and was dragging it across the stubbled flesh with a sickening ease. She yanked the blade out and stepped back, watching as the man dropped to the floor and held onto the dark crimson, pulsing gash under his graying beard. He gurgled and spluttered and she winced when blood sprayed out of the wound between his fingers and peppered across her face and clothing. Adrenaline coursed through her veins but she had seen enough death to last a lifetime and took a moment to close her eyes and look away as the life drained out of the human being before her.

She pressed on, shoving the man’s pistol into her waistband and having to consciously hold back a cry of pure delight when she discovered a door in the fence to the next yard.

At last. Folks that actually liked one another enough to have an adjoining door in their yard.

She pulled back the rusty bolt and creaked the door open, finding another man wandering around with his back to her and peering into the windows of the house. She unhooked her bow and nocked an arrow, drawing in a steady breath as her feet took her closer and closer, still undetected and being provided with a perfect opportunity. This time, she wanted more than just a quick death for her potential assailant. She wanted information. At the bottom of the patio steps, she steadily lifted a boot and pulled her body weight up while keeping her aim steady. The man turned and her heart skipped a beat when he attempted to raise his gun.

“Uh-uh. Not advisable” She told him.

Her voice was surprisingly authoritative considering how unsteady her mind was when she saw the face of the man in front of her. In a split second, she was transported back to Aaron’s kitchen table and her wrists and thighs stung with the memory of the rough, strong hands that pinned her to the surface. In the throes of terror, while she fought with every fiber of her being to escape the clutches of the cruel men that intended to hurt her, she caught a glimpse of a face that she’d refused to remember until that point. While she knew that face belonged to a man that was no more, the individual she was pointing her weapon at looked remarkably like him. Her chest flooded with nerves and her breathing began to falter but on the surface she managed to hold it together. His mouth opened and she could tell he was going to yell for help.

“Shh” She hissed at him.

He jolted towards her, flinging an arm at her bow and knocking it to the floor. Having no time to gather her thoughts and consider he next move, her instincts took over and she snatched her machete from her belt with one hand as she took the final step and jammed her straightened fingers into the man’s Adam’s apple. The movement was so rapid, the man barely registered it until he buckled over and gagged at her feet. She heard him wheeze when the breath he so needed to inhale was snatched away. His gun fell from his hand and just when she thought she had the situation under control, he staggered to his feet and lashed out, managing to backhand her across the face, snapping her head to the side. Her vision blurred and pain seared through her cheekbone at the same time as pure rage began to simmer in her very soul. She stumbled back but instead of giving up, she forced her bad shoulder into action and bit down on her lower lip as she slashed across his stomach. His hands frantically sought to hold the deep cut in his abdomen closed but blood was soon seeping through his fingers and staining his clothes in a rapidly growing map of his demise. Taking the chance to re-equip her bow, she swooped down to it and plucked another arrow from her quiver just as she saw his lips part and panic fill his eyes.

“HEL-”

“-Keep yelling and I will drag your fucking guts out onto the grass.” She warned steadily and with an assured and certain edge to her voice. Her threat was not empty and she could see that despite his dire situation, the man was in no position to argue. “The girl your people kidnapped today. Is she alive?”

“I ain’t telling you shit, bitch.” He spat.

His voice was not unlike the man that Daryl had bludgeoned to death in Aaron and Eric’s kitchen. Similar face, similar voice, part of the same group. She was beginning to put the pieces together and could only conclude that she was now face-to face with the brother of one of the men that had tried to rape her. Her cheek was aching with discomfort and she knew that under her mask, a hefty bruise was forming and so, she opened her mouth, trying to rotate her jaw and stretch the compromised flesh for some relief. Blood was pooling on the ground beneath him and his hands were now almost completely red. Undoubtedly unsettled and enraged by his likeness to her attacker, she found a sinister satisfaction in bringing the tip of her arrow close to his right eye.

“You wanna rethink that, buddy?” She smirked.

Tears filled the mans terrified eyes and his shoulders were visibly shaking. Jess was sure that if anyone had told her she was capable of frightening a grown man to such an extent she would have thought them to be crazy, but there she was, holding a scared man hostage for information and refusing, point blank to back down.

“S-she’s alive” He croaked; his voice hoarse from her earlier jab at his throat. Initially, she’d been dismayed to find that she’d not hit him hard enough to make him vomit, just like Abraham had told her would happen if enough force was applied. But if she’d been graced with such an occurrence, she would end up talking to herself due to the high likelihood of her having killed him.

“How many of you are there?” she demanded as she watched the tip of her arrow wave around in front of his pupil.

“A hun-hundred or, or so. Not- not all here.” He admitted. His skin was starting to grey from the blood loss and voices could be heard nearing them from the street. Jess knew her time was running out.

“You all know each other? How can you tell who’s from your group and who’s not?” She pressed, jutting the arrow closer still. He closed his eyes briefly and she witnessed his chest spring up and down as he panted in fear.

“Too many of us to know everybody. We’re-we’re branded. My hand. But you-you don’t stand a chance alone.” He managed to say as he pulled back his leather jacket sleeve.

Jess wasn’t about to be that easily distracted and so, her eyes darted down to where he held his hand out and she noted the circular symbol seared into his flesh. Angry and new, even bordering on infection.

“Where would they be keeping the girl?” She asked.

“You’ll never get out alive.” He warned her.

“Where are they keeping her?!” She hissed, leaning further over him and making a show of pulling the bows strings back further. The weapon creaked and the man startled.

“The d-dorm rooms.”

“See? Now, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” She snipped sarcastically with a tilt of her head. Anger rose in the man’s eyes and his brow furrowed.

“Fuck you, bitch.” He spat. Saliva sprayed from his mouth, attaching to the scruff of his short beard. “You’re dead. You hear me. Fucking dead!”

Half of Jess wanted to just shut him up, but the other half had one more, key thing that she needed to know and she wasn’t about to let it drop. With mere seconds to spare before she was found by the others, she placed a boot on the man’s chest and kicked him backwards until his back hit the ground. He yelped in discomfort and the wound across his stomach oozed with yet more blood. It hit her that if she didn’t kill him and fast, he would die anyway and she would have to relinquish the gratification of putting him down herself.

“Did you have a brother?” She questioned as she towered over him with her bow still aimed at his eye.

“W-what?”

“You deaf as well as stupid? I said, did you have a brother?”

“Yeah… he’s dead…why?”

There it was, all the confirmation she needed that this violent but uniquely justified act would not only benefit their cause of freeing Enid, but it would also serve as revenge and closure for a trauma that was bestowed upon Jess and had festered around her, eating away at her sanity ever since. Now, she was finally able to move on.

“No reason.” She shrugged.

Releasing the arrow wasn’t the difficult part. It was having to stomach the nauseating process of carving the branded skin from the back of his hand so quickly that she ended up dragging tendons and nerves with her in a disgusting trail of red. As soon as her prize detached from his body, she turned and dunked it in an empty plant pot of stagnant water before running as fast as her legs would carry her. Gunshots from behind shocked her into moving even faster and she all but ran through the back fence and into the yard of a house in the next street. Wood and debris flew everywhere as she began to hack at the barrier with her machete, creating a hole big enough to crawl through.

-

From his vantage point behind the huge truck, Daryl had managed to put down two men that had noticed his whereabouts with bolts to the brain before they could even speak. But the sudden arrival of crossbow bolts out of the blue meant that the enemy was now scurrying around the compound like a group of frightened mice, all yelling at one another and trying to figure out where the offending shots had originated from. He’d missed a couple of attempts, much to his annoyance. Unable to retrieve them as he usually did, he was running out and fast.

His mind was not far from Jess. The gunshots he’d heard replayed over and over in his head. The thought of her getting hurt or killed literally made his legs feel weak and his chest throb with despair. But he had to believe that she would be fine, she would have it no other way and if she knew how much he’d fretted, she would not hesitate to tell him off in the strange, quirky way she always did. In fact, he couldn’t wait until the next time she did.

He waited for a chance to run, a gap in the pandemonium that would enable him to run to the building with the low windows and duck behind the bushes and wooden boxes stacked outside. From where he was, it looked like the fire exit to the dormitory building. With so many rooms to search inside, Daryl knew he had his work cut out. But it also meant that once inside, he had plenty of places to hide and use for cover.

Boots crossed the space in front of the truck and he dipped his head, monitoring their progress as they moved swiftly towards the gate. The light was fading fast and unless he moved in the next few minutes, they would be battling against the night as well as the enemy. He backed up and rounded the back of the truck, peering around the trunk and finding the coast as clear as it was going to be. He sprinted but as soundlessly as possible across the pathways and grass until he finally managed to reach the boxes. Noting the short distance that he would have to cross to get to the fire exit door, he crouched down and immediately noticed the sound of glass smashing in the far distance.

-

By some miracle and with an aching shoulder, Jess was meters away from the gate but stuck for ideas as to how to get inside and find Daryl. She pushed away the notion that he would be mad at her and figured she would deal with his wrath once they were home and dry. She cast her mind back to their original plan. Distract then sneak. The garage she was hiding behind was the closest unit to the gate that would provide her with enough cover. So, leaving it was not an option, she would have to think up a plan from where she was. Her eyes flitted around the area, at the bushes, the discarded garden tools, the rusty barbeque and the metal ladder.

She froze. The metal ladder. Distract then sneak. Wasting no time, she grabbed the ladder and positioned it against the garage, testing it by applying some weight on one of the rungs with her foot. It held up with enough stability and she climbed up a few steps, just enough to reach the top of the garage and still be hidden behind it. She shuffled on the rung and turned her body while she scanned the scene. Eventually, she did a double take at the roof of a greenhouse in a yard just far enough away to buy her some time. She carefully unhooked her bow and selected an arrow, aiming with less precision than she would have liked. But when the arrow shattered the greenhouses roof and sent a smashing sound echoing from the houses, the crash bouncing from walls and rising into the air, she smiled and quickly descended the ladder.

She strained to hear but there was no doubt that the tell tale sounds of her pursuers were all running to the distraction instead of following her. She had to move or she would lose her chance. She stood up straight, loaded her bow again and stepped out into the street. The first thing she saw was a short, stubby man standing in the middle of the open gate, unarmed and sweating. His hands shakily went up in surrender when he saw her and her bow released. If she thought about too much, she knew she would have talked herself out of it. The arrow flew past him and he flinched and squeezed his eyes closed. She couldn’t help it; she was embarrassed at yet another missed shot.

“Oh, C’mon now!” She growled to herself

He’s a goddamn sitting duck, you got this. You’re not missing three in one day.

His eyes bulged as she took aim again and for the second time, everything slowed and she bared her teeth in anticipation as the arrow flew towards the man. She sighed with relief when it hit him straight in the chest and knocked him backwards. Seizing the precious seconds that she’d earned, she ran at the gate and slowed to a creep as she slipped inside and followed Daryl’s path along the wall in the darkness.

-

Daryl was racing between the fire exit and the windows of the buildings, trying each one and finding them locked. He cursed under his breath and moved back to the boxes to re-evaluate his method. He’d hoped to gain access to the building and gradually work his way around the college due to having no idea where they would keep Enid and anyone else that they had captured.

“Psst!”

His head snapped up to find Jess laying on the gravel under the armored truck. She waved enthusiastically at him like a kid in a playground and he lifted an eyebrow in disbelief.

Told her to stay outside the fuckin’ walls.

After a brief double take at her, he angrily waved her off, mouthing to her to get back on the outside. She held up a finger to signal that he should wait and wriggled, clunking her bow on the underside of the truck and freezing for a couple of seconds until she was sure no one had noticed. Daryl held his breath and released it in frustration as he witnessed her pull something flesh colored from her jacket pocket and push herself backwards. She got to her feet behind the truck and glanced down at the item in her hand, then over at a perplexed Daryl. Just how was she going to get it over there without attracting the attention of the remaining men, who were now discovering the body of Jess’s latest victim at the gate?

Her arrows rattled at her back as she thought and the noise gave her an idea, albeit a risky one. She pulled an arrow from the quiver and impaled her gift to him onto the point. Then, she raised it up, gripped the feathered end tightly and flung it in Daryl’s direction. Closing her eyes as it left the point in mid-air probably wasn’t her best choice, but the anticipation was killing her and although her aim was a little off, the piece of branded flesh splatted onto the window above Daryl’s head with a thunk.

He startled when he saw it, his face twisting into a grimace as he snatched it from the glass and looked back at Jess with disgust. She held up her hands, slapping one over the back of the other and then pointing to the floppy, cold piece of skin in his grasp. He instantly understood although he was both shocked and impressed at her idea. Placing the wet burn mark over his own hand, he nodded at her and received an excitable thumbs up. Now, he just had to gain entry to the building. He lifted an arm and pushed at the glass of the window above him but it didn’t budge. Jess’s brain was working on overtime and she glanced around the compound, needing something to create another distraction with. Her eyes landed on the dark puddle on the ground a couple of metres away from the small gathering of what looked like six men by the entrance to the main building. Its slick, technicolor, rainbow effect shone in the beam from the floodlights.

That’s Gasoline.

It was a considerable distance away but she was faced with no choice, it was either try or Daryl would have to find another way in and risk getting caught. From her jacket pocket, she fished out a flare, popped the cap off and used the striking surface of the cap to light it. Then, she stepped out from behind the truck and chucked the flare along the floor as hard as she could, as if she was throwing a bowling ball. It skittered across the bumpy surface of the college's path and stopped just at the edge of the puddle. Tantalizingly close but not quite close enough. It was a matter of millimetres and Jess curled her hands into fists and growled through her teeth. Her luck seemed to be running out.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

She slumped back against the back of the truck and noticed Daryl watching the puddle with great interest. He slowly turned his head to her and held up a hand as he mouthed the words ‘just wait’.

Above the humming, murmuring of the conversation going on by the gate, all Jess could hear was her own labored breathing. She was out of ideas, having exhausted her one, last shot at getting Daryl safely into the building undetected. Or so she thought, until a hiss and a pop followed by a rush of air pulled her from her negativity. She spun around and peeked around the truck. The puddle had caught fire and the flames were rapidly growing. It worked.

She ripped the pistol from her waistband and quickly checked it over. Fully loaded. Safety off. Keeping her body flat to the back of the vehicle, she pointed the gun at the group, who were now all staring at the flames in bafflement and asking each other where the hell the flare had come from. She started firing, sending them all into a frenzy as bullets whizzed past their heads and they ran for cover. Deliberately, she aimed at windows of nearby buildings with the intention of causing as much noise as possible. With the puddle of gasoline raging and the men all panicked and seeking cover, with glass shattering all around them and no idea where the gunfire was originating from, Jess quickly put a few bullets in the window above Daryl, enough to smash most of the pane. He sprang to his feet and managed to climb inside but Jess was in no doubt that his hands would be cut to ribbons. With her work done, she sighed with relief and backed into the shadows and bushes behind the gate. Now, it was down to him.

Then, she felt like a spare part. She counted four remaining men altogether when the three that had been following her outside finally arrived back inside the walls. She was too far away to hear their discussion, but they were still on high alert with two skulking back and forth around the inside of the wall. She ducked under the bushes to avoid the flashlights of their rifles and tried to figure out how she would handle it if one of them was to find her. But she quickly realized that her only chance and it was a slim one, was to fight with her machete and knife. Face to face. She was under no illusions that their foe was as wise as the world was flat, but she still wasn’t going to risk hand to hand combat with four, armed men. Not willing to partake in such a suicide mission, she kept still and quiet and willed Daryl to re-emerge with Enid in tow so they could work their way out of there together.

It felt like forever. Like hours and days had passed with her boots sinking into the mud between the bushes. The distinct lack of Daryl during the uncomfortable wait gave her a tiny sense of what it might be like if he wasn’t in her life anymore. She’d be waiting. All the time. Waiting for him to return but he never would. She shivered at the thought and shifted her weight from one foot to the other, her limbs beginning to numb from having to stay in the same place for so long.

In reality, it was around ten minutes when Daryl finally reappeared with Enid and was soon shoving her through the smashed window. Pleased to see that she was still dressed in her usual attire and seemed to be relatively untouched save for a black eye, Jess gestured wildly for her to cross the short distance from the bushes to the truck. With a quick check in each direction, Enid shot out from the leaves and was grabbed by Jess on the other side who quickly wrapped her arms around her and squeezed her tight. At her back, she could sense her jacket being gripped in the young girls’ hands, so tightly that she thought she might tear a hole in the leather. Her relief at seeing her rescuers had prompted tears to fill her eyes and Jess’s were threatening to do the same until she clocked Daryl climbing from the window with what looked like a rocket strapped to his back. She gradually eased Enid apart from her torso and gawped at the sight.

“Enid?” She whispered but in a high-pitched chirp.

“Yeah?”

“Is that a…a Rocket Launcher on Daryl’s back?”

“Yeah. He found the weapons room.”

“Huh. Sweet.” Jess huffed in amusement. “Nothing like an RPG to add some more Drama.”

Equipping his crossbow, Daryl began firing bolts at anyone he could see and Jess stepped in to help without question. She coaxed Enid behind her and told her to stay there with Daryl also adding that she should move when they do as they closed in on the gate, using more boxes and vehicles for cover. Catching his eye as he reloaded his crossbow with his foot in the stirrup, he hauled the strings back and clicked them into place.

“Go, I’ll cover you. Get her to the car.” He panted.

She didn’t want to leave him and everything in her told her to stay by his side but she had a duty to Enid and if anything was to happen to her, the whole thing would have been in vain. Too many people had died at the hands of the brainless but still dangerous group and she couldn’t let Enid become another number on their kill list. Daryl could handle himself, she was certain of that, but it still didn’t stop the churning worry in her heart that if she left him, something bad could happen. She looked over the boxes shielding her and started to count more assailants filtering out from the buildings.

They’re like ants. They’re everywhere.

He could see her pause and think and flicked an arm out in the direction of the gate, only metres away from where they hid.

“Go, Jess!” He raged at her, snapping her from her overthinking and spurring her on to take hold on Enid’s arm and drag her towards the gate. Bullets narrowly missed them and they kept on, running as fast as possible and trying to keep low until they reached houses and Jess guided Enid to the garage she’d hidden behind before.

“Are you okay? Are you hit?” She gasped.

“N-no.” Enid stuttered.

Then, it was Daryl’s turn. He stood up, shot a bolt through the eye of a man standing dangerously close to him and dropped him in seconds. It was his last bolt. Adrenaline surged in his veins as he made for the gate, sweat dripping into his eyes and soaking his hair. His heart pounded and a short, puff of air grazed his ear. A bullet a hair's breadth away. He pulled a handgun from his belt and could see Jess and Enid emerge from the side of a house; they began hurrying along in front of him with wide eyes glimpsing back at him.

He stopped and turned back, fearlessly eliminating two more men who came rushing at him. Despite the chaos, his shots were steady and accurate, his aim impeccable. He silently thanked his lucky stars that he had a brother like Merle, who insisted on shooting everything in sight with whatever weapons they could get their hands on. He switched the gun for the RPG across his body and yelled at the top of his lungs for Jess and Enid to keep running. He sucked in a deep breath and hauled the weapon onto his shoulder, noticing four more men intent on killing him. Upon realizing the grave danger that they were about to be put in, they immediately stopped and started running in the other direction, screaming a horrified chorus of ‘fall back!’ and ‘RPG!’. Daryl slowly released his breath and pulled the trigger. The weapon popped and whooshed and fire exploded in front of him. He staggered but remained upright enough to find that he’d hit the main building and the propane canisters stacked at the entrance, sending a booming cloud of dust, flames and debris spiraling into the sky. A shockwave rumbled across the ground, meaning Jess and Enid plummeted onto the road's surface and skidded harshly along the gritty floor.

Daryl also hit the deck but was soon on his feet and whirling around, his eyes wide and searching for her.

“Jess?!”

From the gutter, Jess stuck a hand in the air and Enid groaned next to her, rolling over onto her back and holding her head.

“I’m here. I think” Jess moaned.

Hands took hold of her jacket and heaved her upright, her legs buckled and she clung to him, her eyes blinking the grit away and making out his blurry figure.

“Y’alright?” He rasped.

“Well…my eyebrows don’t hurt.” She croaked.

Enid got to her feet and brushed her clothing down. She swapped a worried look with Daryl and slid her hand under Jess’s forearm. She flinched when the crack of gunfire interrupted her attempt to bring Jess back to her senses.

“Go! Run!” Daryl ordered.

One more man stepped out from the gate amongst the smoke and falling cloud of grey and let rip with a high-powered rifle. The sound cracked through Jess’s already timid ears and prodded the now increasingly growing ball of fury that was sitting tight in her chest. Daryl returned fire as best he could but Jess was reaching the end of her tether. Her arm was being yanked in one direction by Enid who was imploring her to follow while she used cars and trash cans as cover. A brief halt in the shooting slowed everything down for Jess and she let her impulsivity take over, no longer able to fight it.

He’s reloading.

She grasped at her bow and stepped out from behind a car, swiftly nocking an arrow and drawing the strings back. Daryl’s heart all but stopped when he lay eyes on her. The woman he cared about, standing in the middle of the street and open to attack.

“No! Jess! What are ya doin?!” He cried. He ran at her with every intention of bundling her back behind the empty car, but she released the arrow and he stopped, his boots skidding slightly. He slowly turned his head to find the man in the gateway falling backwards with Jess’s arrow firmly embedded right between his Eyes. Suddenly snapping out of her determined trace, her mouth fell open and she stared in astonishment at what was an incredibly accurate shot.

“C’mon. We gotta get outta here.” Daryl urged from her side. His fingertips grazed the arm of her jacket.

“Did you see that shot?!” She asked in amazement “Did you see that amazing shot?!”

“Really, Jess?! You want me to throw ya a damn party?!” he exclaimed in frustration “We gotta get outta here. Walkers will be comin’ in for miles around ‘cause of the racket we made.” He wandered off, mumbling to a scared and confused Enid to follow him.

“But that was some Hawkeye shit right there” Jess mumbled blankly to herself while following on, disappointed at the lack of credit she’d received for such a movie-worthy shot.

At the end of the street, they took a left and Daryl was happy to see that the car they’d borrowed from Alexandria was still parked at the sidewalk and didn’t appear to have any smashed windows. Carl would still be in one piece. He wondered how he was going to explain it all away to Rick when he returned and figured that his best bet was honesty, although it would get the kid into trouble, it was his own responsibility to deal with his dishonesty. It was something Daryl had to do as far back as he could remember. He had no one to bail him out of anything if Merle was in prison or away with the military. It was how he’d grown and evolved into the kind of person that looked out for himself and relied on no one.

A yelp from Jess’s left saw her spinning around to find Enid being held by a skinny, dirty, long haired man with hardly any teeth. He had his arm around her throat and a gun pointed to the side of her head. She didn’t struggle or move, but Jess could see the terror in her eyes when a tear escaped and rolled down her cheek. The man was grinning maniacally from ear to ear, flashing his gappy smile and striking a sinister fear into Jess’s heart. She’d seen this kind of smile before, in horror movies and on Halloween masks. The reality of it being ten times worse. A shiver ran down her spine.

“Daryl” She whispered, seeing him stop and turn in her peripheral vision.

“You’re not taking her. She belongs to us. Finders, Keepers.” The man told them. Spittle sprayed from his mouth and Enid grimaced when he pushed his face to the side of her head and smelt her hair.

“I’ma wipe that shit-eatin’ grin off ya face” Daryl warned, raising his gun.

The man began to laugh. A throaty, mucus-filled laugh that seemed to boom through the trees and surrounding area. It made Jess nauseous to think of how bad he must smell, right next to Enid’s face.

“It’s alriiight!” He chuckled. “I’ll just kill her, then. Take this one instead.” He nudged his head up at Jess. Her stomach bubbled with bile and she could literally see Daryl’s body tense with rage.

“I’m gonna fuckin’ kill you” He growled.

“You and your little town. Over there with your precious women and your food and medicine. Y’all think you got it made. But y’all are gonna die. We’re all infected. Every last one of us. So why not have a little fun bef-”

The red mist descended and Jess’s vision blurred with crimson tones. It was almost dark but it wasn’t the lack of light that was hindering her. Her ears rang and she thought her eardrum had burst. Everything was muffled. Daryl’s voice, Enid’s voice. Her eyes lowered to the ground and she blinked the red away to find the man’s headless body slumped over her shoes. She swallowed and regained her hearing, shakily stepping back away from the body.

“Carl?!” She heard Daryl gasp.

She looked up and sure enough, Carl was standing there with a shotgun in his hands, his chest heaving and his mouth open. Enid threw herself at him, knocking the gun to one side and wrapping her arms around him. He dropped the gun and slowly raised his hands, placing them on her back and blinking in shock.

I’ll be damned. Kid blew the guys fucking brains out. Jess thought.

Daryl swooped over to Jess, his hands brushing her hood back and her mask down and picking leaves and twigs from her hair. Her face was covered with the spray of blood from Carl’s unexpected head shot.

“Close ya eyes.” He told her. She complied, now too exhausted to complain and totally done with the day altogether. She wanted nothing more than to crawl into her bed and once the adrenaline worse off, she was sure she would sleep for a week. He gently smoothed his thumbs and forefingers over her eyelids, ridding her of the wet, coppery substance. His eyes stopped on the swelling under her eye and across her cheekbone where she’d been backhanded and he was surprised to find that emotion knotted in every part of him. 

Somebody hit her. Somebody hit Jess. My Jess.

“Open ya eyes.” He rasped.

There he was, the man that wiped her tears, held her at night and protected her from nightmares, cleaned mud from her body, checked her for wounds and rubbed blood from her face. His eyes were filled with concern and his bottom lip was shaking ever so slightly.

“You good?”

She was tired and shocked and had seen enough death and violence for one day. She was sure that the events of the last hour would stay with her forever but the last thing she wanted at that point, was to fill him with more concern.

“Mm...I’m…dandy.” She mumbled.

Through their whole exchange, Enid had refused to let go of Carl, who was now enveloping her in a bear hug and gently swaying from side to side, whispering in her ear and stroking her long ponytail. Daryl’s shoulders relaxed and he sighed, holding back a smile at such a sweet sight. It was what Carl had wanted all along, the chance to save her, to protect her and comfort her. Daryl understood, mainly because he wanted the same for Jess. He briefly looked at her, finally letting himself smile when he noticed her beaming at the two hugging teenagers like a proud parent.

Eventually, Jess managed to prize Enid away and took her to the car, sitting her in the back seat and signalling to Daryl that she needed a minute alone with her. He didn’t need to ask why, figuring that Enid had been in the clutches of a violent and dangerous group of men and as a female, there were certain questions that needed to be asked as soon as possible. He wandered over to Carl, receiving a sheepish look.

“What did I tell you, Carl?” He asked while scanning the street around them.

“Stay in the Car.” Carl replied sadly.

“That’s right. And what did you not do?”

“Stay in the car.”

“Yup.”

“I’m sorry” Carl offered sincerely. Daryl lit a smoke after delighting in the fact that the packet hadn’t been completely squashed in his pocket from all the action. He exhaled heavily and Carl watched the bluish smoke rise into the air above him.

“Good job, kid.” Daryl said. The look on the Grime’s boy’s face was an absolute picture, pure confusion laced with a little trepidation. He didn’t dare smile just yet, unsure of weather or not Daryl was luring him into a false sense of security. Instead, he stayed still and stared at him.

“What?” he squeaked.

“Saved her life.” Daryl pointed out.

The realization hit him and he exhaled, rubbing at his forehead under his sheriffs’ hat. His hair was scraggly and wet from his profuse sweating. Psychologically, it was no easy feat to blow someone’s head clean off with a shotgun at close range.

“Thanks,” he said with a small laugh.

“You tell her ya like her yet?” Daryl inquired with a step closer to him.

“No,” Carl admitted.

“Hmm”. Daryl hummed thoughtfully. “Alright. Well, just so ya know; if you pull this shit again, I’ma rat you out to the girl.”

His face dropped and worry crossed his features. He slowly shook his head and prepared to beg Daryl to keep his mouth shut, stopping only when he saw a smirk form on his lips.

“I’m just playin’, man.” He sniggered. “I’m serious though, you do this again n’ I will make ya life pretty difficult. You gotta be safe. You don’t know how much it’d mess ya ol’ man up if he lost ya. And um…and me. It’d mess me up too.”

Carl, having grown up way faster than he should have done and being wise beyond his years, was not without his faults. But Daryl respected the courage he possessed and his willingness to help others. He was most definitely his father’s son and the traits that shone in Carl were everything that Daryl admired in Rick. He could only hope to one day be the kind of man that could lead a group, now a community, like Rick did. Carl stuck his hand out, offering to solidify his promise and Daryl accepted, shaking his hand and nodding towards the car.

 Jess stood with her arms crossed and her mask and hood down at the trunk of the car when Daryl placed the rocket launcher inside along with his crossbow. He kept his gun in his waistband and slammed the trunk shut. Unable to avoid her piercing gaze, he finished his smoke, flicked it away and raised his eyebrows at her.

“What’cha lookin’ at?”

“As if things weren’t exciting enough for you, you show up with that big, spicy weapon.”

“Like the guy said; finders, keepers.” He shrugged.

She leaned forwards with her gloved hands on the trunk and grinned at him, ignoring the Walkers that were starting to filter out between the houses towards the fire at the college. He could tell that she was working up to tease him or provoke him into an exchange of jest and after the day they’d had, he welcomed the change in conversation. She inspected his scratched and cut arms, remembering that he must have cut his hands and making a mental note to check them when they had a chance to breathe.

“You’re just a redneck glitter bomb of glory, aintcha?” she chuckled, suddenly remembering a phrase that Abraham had said to her in the armory one afternoon. “Ain't nothin’ like a man with a great, big…gun, Daryl.”

He scoffed and shyly nibbled on his lower lip, rocking back slightly on his heels. He searched his mind for an appropriate flirtatious comment to throw back at her but everything that presented itself was either too ‘Merle-like’ and graphic or not witty enough and so, he endured his reddened cheeks and burning ears and simply laughed bashfully at her.

“Get in the car, girl.”

-

The night was black. A velvet canopy across the sky with twinkling diamonds. The lack of street lighting meant the world, or what was left of it, was now able to appreciate the stars and planets on show unlike ever before. It was unfortunate that it took a global catastrophe for those still alive to take the time to look up and contemplate how small and insignificant the earth is in such a vast and complex universe.

It was Enid that asked to stop and camp somewhere for the night. She admitted she hadn’t eaten for almost twelve hours and the trembling of her hands corroborated her claim. Jess pulled the car into a gap in the trees on a country road, bumping it over the terrain as far into the woods as she could go, until the dense trees stopped her from being able to conceal the car from the road anymore. They set up camp, using the tree trunks to lean against and lighting a fire with which they used to heat up tins of pasta and beans that were stashed in every car and truck in Alexandria, just in case. Daryl fashioned a Walker alert system from string and metal trash items from the side of the road. Tins, parts of alloys, plastic bottles and bags would make enough noise to alert them if anything undead, or alive for that matter decided to walk through their camp. He’d picked off a couple of Walkers from the surrounding area while scouting for any danger but saw no other signs of disturbance. They were safe for the time being, but they would have to keep their wits about them and take it in turns to sleep.

Jess was leaning against the car, watching Carl and Enid talk in hushed tones when Daryl returned from scouting their surroundings.

“Should be safe enough.” He announced.

“Good. I’ll take first watch” She suggested. “Can I…Can I talk to you for a minute?”

Her request seemed to catch him off guard and his mind raced at the possible subjects she may want to discuss. He nodded and gestured to the dark clearing behind the car where they’d driven in. They walked a few feet away, out of earshot to Carl and Enid and Daryl told himself that going forward, such private conversations were likely to be taxing and emotional when he thought of how far their relationship had progressed.

She awkwardly tapped her thigh in front of him. He said nothing, allowing her to work up to whatever she wanted to say. Multiple times, she opened her mouth to speak only to find that nothing happened and she recoiled back into herself, huffing and screwing her face up. She knew what she wanted to say, but there was just no easy way of saying it.

I love you. I could have lost you today. I need you to know that I love you.

Suddenly, words didn’t seem enough to convey the depths of her true feelings for him. Not knowing what else to do, she closed the gap between them and slid her arms around his middle, turning her head and pushing the side of her face against his chest. He smelled of sweat and leather and nicotine, but it was just the way she liked him. Loved him. Just the way he was. His body tensed initially but she soon heard him swallow hard and position his arms around her shoulders. She closed her eyes when he rested his chin against the side of her head. It could have all been over in a second, all it would have taken was a shot. One shot in the wrong place and one of them could have been dead. The other forced to go on without the one person they truly cared for more than anyone else.

“Sorry.” She said against his leather vest. He dropped his arms and she broke away from him but he held onto her hand, lightly clutching her fingertips.

“No” He whispered “I needed that as much as you.”

She offered him a feeble smile. It was all she could do to stop herself from planting a risky and dangerous kiss on him with Carl and Enid in such close proximity. She couldn’t even be sure if they’d been rumbled by Carl earlier that day, the last thing they needed was for Enid to catch them as well.

Daryl dropped her hand but she refused to move back anymore. She traced the edge of his vest with her fingertips, slowly moving them up, then down again.

“That was some pretty cool shit back there, Rambo.” She told him.

“Thanks. You too. The skin thing, the branding. Got me in and past four guys before they realized it wasn’t mine. Good thinkin’. And that shot ya took…was badass.” He confessed. Her heart leapt. He did appreciate it. After all, he’d taught her how to use her bow and how to fight, the reason she’d fared so well in what was a chaotic and dangerous situation was because Daryl had taught her. If she really wanted to ponder the scale of things, she would have been dead many times over if he hadn’t told her how to kill Walkers, hunt and skin animals and fight with a knife.

“I know” She shrugged ”it was nothing.” He chuckled under his breath at her and stopped instantly when the corners of her mouth dropped and she hesitantly peered up at him.

“Do I, uh…do I really piss you off?” She wanted to know.

Guilt swept over him. She’d remembered something that he’d long forgotten. He always took pride in his code, part of which was only saying the things he meant, but Jess had changed him and he found her both captivating and able to irritate him easier than anybody else ever had. He’d heard Rick talk about how Lori used to be the only person that could rouse such rage in him, but he’d explained that it stemmed from the ones we’re closest to being the ones that can truly press our buttons. Jess got under his skin without him even realizing it but he would have it no other way. For the most part, she was a ray of sunshine in his dark and dreary existence, a sign of hope and her sense of humor was uniquely able to penetrate his hardened exterior. He hadn’t meant what he’d carelessly thrown at her in the car and he promised himself to make more of a marked effort to stick by his own code.

“Sometimes.” He confessed.

“I’m sorry.”

“Nah, you’re like math.”

“Math?” She questioned skeptically.

“Yeah. Difficult at times, but worth gettin’ to know.” He explained.

Jess laughed and playfully nudged him in the arm, being careful not to aggravate any of the many cuts and bruises he’d acquired.

“That is a backhanded compliment if ever I heard one but I will take it.” She grinned.

-

Enid slept as soundly as possible using Jess’s backpack as a pillow and the casual clothes from inside it as a blanket. Daryl set about finding wood and carving arrows across from Jess, with the fire in-between them with the odd, tension laden glance swapped between them. She got butterflies in her stomach every time he looked over the flames at her with his steely blue eyes and his serious expression and when Carl plonked himself down cross-legged beside her, she was happy for the distraction. Getting caught drooling over Daryl was not in her plan for the evening.

The space either side of the fire was not wide enough for conversations now to be overheard by accident, but Jess kept her voice to a whisper nonetheless and leaned towards Carl.

“Why’d you go all Steve Rogers on me?” She demanded.

“Huh?”

“You told Daryl what I said about him when I asked you not to. That was supposed to be a covert operation, smart-ass.” She scolded with a slight push of his knee. His face dropped when he remembered his lapse and the breaking of her trust. He hadn’t intended to disclose anything secret, rather Daryl had dragged it out of him and he found himself talking and regretting every word.

“I didn’t mean to. It just came out. Sorry.” He pleaded.

“It’s fine. It’s done now. He knows.” She informed him with a quick peep at Daryl, who was busy holding up an arrow in the light of the fire and painstakingly carving it to perfection. “It was horribly embarrassing and yes, I hope you feel guilty.”

“Hey, even Steve Rodgers makes mistakes.” He pointed out.

Much to her disgust, he did have a point. Captain America did indeed, make mistakes. But not many and he made up for it by saving the world.

“Alright, alright, just forget it.” She said, rolling her eyes.

“Did it work?” He hushed at her.

“Hmm? Did what work?”

“Daryl. He knows that you think he’s a good person. Are you guys-”

“-No. No. we are not. That is none of your business anyway.” She confirmed with an awkward clearing of her throat and fidgeting in her spot. “Change the subject.”

“Okay…um…Who’s your favorite Superhero? Don’t say Vision, we already discussed him.” He instructed smugly.

Jess thought for a moment, and found herself observing Daryl across the glow of the fire. She liked the way he furrowed his brow when he concentrated and applied such focus and intensity to his task. It was the same way he’d given her his undivided attention when he helped her to wash the mud from her skin after dislocating her shoulder. In turn, this prompted her to remember all of the things he’d done for her, from fetching her a pack of pens on a run to staying by her side and allowing her to sleep in his arms to quieten her dreams. In the real world, Daryl Dixon was her favorite superhero.

“Bucky Barnes.” She said confidently.

“The Winter Soldier? Interesting” Carl mused. “More of an anti-hero, though.”

“Nah-uh” Jess disagreed with a shake of her head. She picked up a twig and began drawing in the dust as she spoke, starting with a circle, followed by a star in the middle “Bucky was a victim of Hydra. He was a good man but through no fault of his own was turned into someone he didn’t want to be. Yeah, he did bad things but he was brainwashed and didn’t know any better.” Through the circle in the dust she began to draw lines, horizontally across and stepped in the middle. Carl listened intently. “Once he was out of the control of the bag guys, he was able to choose and he chose to be good. He was hard on himself for his past, sure. But the people that loved him knew who he really was and what he was forced to do. He didn’t have the best childhood either, and that can have a big effect on a person’s morals…their code. Come out the other side of that a decent person and you only have yourself to thank. Nobody else.”

Without Jess’s knowledge, Daryl could hear everything and he glanced up from his task, seeing Carl leaning towards her, enthralled by her interpretation of a misunderstood character and his eyes transfixed on the symbol she was drawing on the ground. Under the guise of carving arrows, Daryl continued to lend an ear to the revealing explanation she had to offer. For some reason, he felt exposed and uncomfortable listening to her talk about what made a person good, despite their past.

“I feel like he spent a lot of time running from his past and that’s something a lot of us can relate to. Especially now.” She finished up her dust drawing and Carl titled his head, giving the image of The Winter Soldier’s symbol an affirming nod. “Also, he’s very nice to look at” She chuckled. “Those blue eyes just drew me right in.”

“More of a Black Widow fan myself.” Carl chimed in with a smile.

“Gotcha” She winked.

Carl occupied himself for the next minute by drawing more Marvel character symbols in the dust and scuffing them out with his boot. When he dropped the twig and looked over at Enid, his gaze lingered there as he observed the sleeping girls face and the way her pain seemed to dissipate when she was lulled into a slumber.

“You think she’ll be okay?” He asked Jess.

“Yeah, with us watching over her. Sure.” She assured him. “They didn’t touch her. Aside from the black eye to knock her out. We were just in time. She’s still working through some stuff though. I heard she watched her parents die. Some things never get easier to live with”

She heard a faint hum of agreement from him and dragged her bow across the ground towards her, resting it across both of their legs and taking out a piece of rag from her inside pocket. She grit her teeth as she put all her effort into ripping it into two halves, successfully managing to separate it and handing him one half. Wordlessly, she began dusting and buffing the frame of the bow at one end, with Carl soon following her actions at the other.

“I watched my mom die too.” Carl mumbled.

Once again, Daryl slowly lifted his head, this time staring at Carl through his hair. He’d never heard him talk about his mother before, even when Daryl had offered up his experience of his own mother's death to convey that no matter how painful it was, it is possible to live with it and that Carl wouldn’t be alone. Even then, he hadn’t witnessed Carl actively surrender such information, not to Rick, not to him. Not to anyone. Apparently, Jess had the knack for encouraging people to talk to her.

“You did?” She gently asked.

“When she was giving birth to Judith… I had to shoot her”

Jess closed her eyes for a second and tried to fathom the amount of strength it must have taken for a kid to come to terms with having to go through with such a horrendous act. She didn’t think anyone should have to endure the terrors that the apocalypse brought, least of all children. She placed her hand over his.

“Y’know, your mom, wherever she is, is super proud of you. Everybody always says the same thing; ‘we’ve all lost people’…but it’s okay to miss her.” She soothed.

“You miss your family?” He asked.

“Everyday.” She smiled, remembering their faces and their quirks. The places they’d lived, their individual laughs and personalities. She missed them terribly but they were always there, carried in her heart and sharing a piece of her soul and as long as she lived, so would they.

“I wish Judith didn’t have to grow up without a mom. She would have loved her, a lot.” He sighed sadly.

“You should talk to her about your mom.” She proposed “As she gets older, you could tell her things. What she liked, what made her laugh and smile, the trips you went on, the memories you made.” She gently pat his hand and resumed her dusting of the bows frame.

“Yeah, that’s a good idea.” He contemplated. “Then, they’ll be like her memories too. I like that. What do you remember about your mom?”

Jess chuckled to herself and looked up at the trees, casting her mind back to before the turn. In the days when everyone was safer and happier than they realized.

“Well, she was five foot nothing and I remember my brother was getting on her nerves one day. She tried to yell at him, but even as a teenager he was so tall in comparison that it was like watching her yell at a bird in the sky. My dad lifted her right up and put her on a chair so that she could scold him face to face.”

Carl giggled animatedly and Jess’s vision swung over to Daryl, who was looking intently at her with the faintest curve of his lips.

“Hey, Carl?” Daryl called out. “Should sit right here, next to her.” He got up from the ground and gathered his knife and I carved pieces of wood. Rounding the fire he looked down at Carl. “Should be there for her when she wakes up” 

With that, Carl said nothing but quickly switched places with Daryl, who settled down next to Jess. 

“Somebody hit you” he mentioned, much to Jess’s surprise. Her hand instinctively went to the tender patch of skin along her cheekbone and she thought she may well have a matching shiner with Enid. 

“Yeah. It’s nothing though. It’ll fade.” She brushed off.

”You kill him?” He wanted to know. 

“Yeah.” She replied solemnly. Killing wasn’t something that would ever sit well with her, even if it was a case of them or her. It was a part of survival, but that didn’t make it any easier. 

“Don’t feel bad,” he said “I know you. You feel bad. If you hadn't killed him, I would have. I’ll kill any motherfucker that touches you.”

She didn’t respond. Partly due to having no idea how to. Was he saying this because he had genuine, romantic feelings for her? Or, was it just Daryl being protective of someone he saw as his one, close friend? The close friend that he kissed. Jess contemplated the fact that even though a conversation had been instigated and awkwardly discussed, she still was no closer to finding out exactly how he saw her and until then, she was still treading a kind of of tightrope that meant the difference between plummeting into disappointment or balancing on a wire of uncertainty. She knew that she loved him and that was not going to change, but would she ever be able to love him the way she wanted to, the way she needed to? Out in the open with no shame and no secrets. Only time and even more patience would tell.

--- 

Masterlist

---

tagging as requested

@lilred254​ @woundmetender​ @lonewolf471​

[squadlessgeek]

Title: When He Sees Me

Summary: human au ; logan is nervous and overthinking when roman sets him up on a blind date. based on the song “When He Sees Me” from Waitress, and this wonderful animatic by @voidsides / @artfromthevoid

Warnings: 

Word count: 2,435

Pairings: Logicality (Logan x Patton) and background Prinxiety (Virgil x Roman)

Tag List: (let me know if you’d like to be added or removed) Tag List: (let me know if you’d like to be added or removed) @monikastec @persepinecone @horsesquid @sassyandmessy @ilivetoexist @lizaelsparrow @galaxy-warping @insanityandimperfection @sander-fander-sides  @swlotakulady34 @llamaavocado @applecannibal @helloisthisusernametaken @wildhorsewolf @justanotherpurplebutterfly @beautifully-terribly @awkward-avocado-of-death​ @ab-artist​ @toujours-fidele​ @an-awkward-gay​ @anaveragegay​ @gingergiraffe101​ @i-just-punched-malfoy​ @musikasworld​ @constantstateoftired

Read it on AO3

The ringing in Logan’s ears almost drowned out the excited giggling from Roman, the amused snickers from Virgil. Almost. He blinked a few times, shook his head, even pressed the tip of a fingernail into the pad of his thumb hard enough to hurt, hoping to wake up from some sort of awful dream. None of the above worked.

“I’m sorry, you what?” He asked finally, brows drawn together and staring Roman down like he’d just dealt the worst betrayal in the history of their friendship.

Roman raised a hand to his face and laughed behind it. He lounged carelessly on their sectional sofa, his boyfriend of three years, Virgil, settled in beside him. The three had been roommates since college, and while being the third wheel was occasionally awkward and undesirable for Logan, they were his best and only friends, and it just made more sense to keep their living situation the same throughout the years; economically, of course.

“I set you up! He’s so cute, Lo, look!” Roman tried to show Logan a picture of the mystery man, but Logan brushed him aside. He looked to Virgil for help, who only shrugged.

“It’s just a date,” Virgil said from behind the screen of his phone. Logan gawked at him. The most apprehensive, cautious person Logan has ever known, somehow calm about the situation. Of all people, Logan would’ve expected Virgil to understand.

Logan took a deep breath and adjusted his glasses, turning towards the staircase that led to the bedrooms upstairs. “I’m not going,” he said. Roman complained loudly, hopping up from his seat to follow his roommate upstairs. “End of discussion. You can’t just— I don’t understand what the thought process behind this decision was.”

“He’s cute, and single! See, you two have so much in common already.” Logan rolled his eyes and stopped at the top of the stairs, turning to look at Roman. “I swear, you’ll like him. Even if you don’t work out romantically, you two could still be adorable as friends. Plus... I think he’d be good for you.” 

Logan squinted down at Roman, the gears turning in his head as he tried to figure out what that could mean. “Good for me?”

“You know what I mean. You need to get out more, meet new people. You seriously smell like an old, wet book. That’s not even an insult, it’s just the truth. Right? Back me up, V.”

“I’m not part of this,” Virgil called from the couch.

“Whatever,” Roman continued. “In any case, you should go.” He reached for Logan’s hand, who only resisted a little while Roman tugged him back downstairs. “I know you’re scared, but—“

“Scared?” At the bottom of the stairs once again, Logan pulled his hand away from Roman, shaking his head. “Please. I’m not scared.” Roman raised an eyebrow at him, the corner of his lip twitching up into a skeptical smile. “I’m not! It’s just— you don’t really know him, right? You only recently met him. He could be dangerous. He could be unstable, he could turn out to be some stalker with psychopathic tendencies, he could be anyone!” As Logan rambled on, he paced around the living room, only working himself up even more. Roman kept trying to interject, and Virgil, now interested, opted for watching this scene play out rather than keeping his eyes glued to his phone.

“Lo, he’s sweet—“

“What if we sit at a booth and he wants to sit beside me instead of across? What if he talks too much, or too quickly, and I’m not interested in what he has to say, or worse, I can’t understand what he’s saying at all? What if he asks me too many questions, tries to pry into my personal life before I even know him? There are so many things— you don’t understand, he could prefer Coke instead of Pepsi, he could eat Oreos the wrong way, he could prefer the movie over the book, he could drink his coffee with way too much sugar. Oh, my god, he could be colorblind! How untrustworthy is that?!”

Logan only stopped his tangent once he actually looked at the expressions on his friends’ faces. They looked at him like he might explode, like he was crazy, and it made his entire body tense.

“So,” Roman cautioned, “You’re scared.”

There was a beat of silence as Logan pushed his hair back, regained his composure. And yet his voice cracked the slightest bit as he breathed, “Terrified.”

Admitting his fears was never his strong suit. Admitting anything, really, was quite a feat he was not too familiar with. He let himself sink onto the other end of the sectional, removing his glasses briefly to rub at his face. Virgil sat forward in his seat and placed a tentative hand on Logan’s knee.

“I’m just being cautious,” Logan sighed, sure that Virgil was going to comment on how crazy he was acting.

“I know,” was what he said instead. Logan looked up at him, meeting his eyes, watching that familiarly hesitant smile. “But I don’t think you’re afraid that you’ll hate him. I think you’re afraid that you’ll like him.”

Logan felt his face grow warm and averted his gaze to the carpet, Roman "Oooh”-ing dramatically from the other side of the couch. He quieted with a sharp look from Logan, but the words still hung heavy in his mind. He was afraid of so many things, mostly of the unknown. Of what he could never be sure about. Of ifs and buts and maybes. And this whole thing was chock full of the unknown. But maybe, facing his fears wouldn’t be so bad, because in a way, it would calm them. At least he could be sure.

“There is probably one thing you should know,” Roman said, snapping Logan out of his thoughts. “Patton is colorblind.”

And so the unknown becomes the known.

And in a way, it’s comforting.

Roman According to him he’s wearing a baby blue sweater and overalls. Cute. He’s got round glasses and just an absolute mess of freckles, and he literally lights up a room when he walks in - you can’t miss him. 10:22am

Virgil we told him you would probably be the only person on the whole block wearing a tie. he’s excited that you both wear glasses. good luck lo. u got this. 10:28am

Logan sighed to himself as he scanned the messages in the group chat the three of them shared. He decided against correcting Roman on his incorrect use of the word “literally,” and instead put his phone on silent and tucked it back into his pocket. He didn’t want to come across as rude if it went off in the middle of this... interaction. He preferred not to call it a date. Calling it a date made it real in a way that Logan would rather avoid for now. Just until he knew more.

When it was his turn in line, he ordered a coffee, sixteen ounces, black. As the barista rang him up and took his card, he decided that this was ridiculous. He shouldn’t have come. He should have stayed at home, made his own coffee, gotten some work done. Instead he decided to spend the day standing in a cafe full of people nothing like him, for a stranger that might not even show up. A stranger who might be wrong for him in so many ways, who might not be worth the anxiety of an ordeal like this.

He could have Roman apologize for him, and it would be fine, everything would go back to normal and he would never have to think about the colorblind stranger again. He had more to lose from staying than he did from leaving. He thanked the barista as she handed him his cup, and turned back to the door with full intention of going home.

But then he understood what Roman meant.

Just as he turned toward the door, someone else walked through it. His eyes, behind round wire frames, held a mix of hope and nerves, and didn’t try to hide the fact that they were looking for something in particular. Freckles dusted his cheeks and the bridge of his nose; if one were to focus they would notice that the little dots continued down his neck and beneath his sweater. Baby blue. Accompanied with white overalls.

You can’t miss him.

Logan’s stomach twisted, especially as the nervous and hopeful eyes landed on him. Too late. As he walked towards Logan, the latter panicked. He could slip past him, quickly walk out, get into his car, and leave. Or he could pretend to be someone else, despite the description his friends provided. Logan? Who’s he? Never heard of him.

And yet.

“Hi! Are you Logan? I like your tie.”

He found himself answering, “Yes. Thank you.” He managed to recover enough to extend his free hand, blinking away the initial shock from seeing him. “Patton, right?”

The handshake was accepted, though not before Patton gave him a funny look, like it was an odd greeting. Had he already somehow messed up? But he was smiling, in a way that was almost painfully genuine, so evidently things weren’t starting off too poorly. “That’s me! Should we pick out a table?” Logan let out a breath he hadn’t even realized he was holding. Table, not a booth. Good start. Logan preferred plain chairs over booths any day.

“Yes, let’s. Are you going to order anything?” He asked, gesturing to the counter where he’d gotten his coffee. Patton shook his head and held up a reusable cup that would have matched the shade of his sweater if it weren’t for the countless stickers decorating it. The contents looked very chocolatey.

“I brought my own!” he said, as he picked a table and sat down, Logan following his lead. “It’s just a milkshake; caffeine has the opposite effect on me, makes me tired.” Okay, while sugary milkshakes in the morning were a questionable dietary choice at best, at least his coffee order wasn’t some complicated, elaborate, unhealthy thing. “So, I’ve heard lots about you from Roman,” Patton said, sitting cross-legged in his chair. It didn’t look comfortable. Logan felt himself break into a cold sweat, wondering what his roommate would have said about him.

“Oh?” He tried his best to sound casual, collected.

“Only good things, don’t worry. Well… Sort of. I mean, you know Roman, he can make everything out to be way more dramatic than it actually is.”

Logan nodded at that, sighing to himself. The amount of insects he’s had to let outside in order to quiet Roman’s shrieking… “Well, what sort of things did he tell you?”

Patton twirled his straw between two fingers, his eyebrows drawing together as he recalled the information. Every expression he made was very pronounced, like he wore every emotion and thought out on his sleeve. Logan couldn’t believe Roman would see these two people, entirely opposite of each other, and think that they would be completely compatible for one another. “Um… well he said you’re very focused, and stubborn. And smart. Very smart. And that you know the answer to just about any random question you could think of.”

Logan couldn’t help his small twitch of a smile. Roman called him smart. And the last statement was true enough; he could recall several late nights when he’d get a knock on his bedroom door and Roman or Virgil would poke their head in, ready to ask some inane question. One of his favorites was when Virgil asked if bees sneeze. They don’t, by the way. They lack noses, as well as mouths and lungs. “He also said that you were nervous about this date,” Patton continued, before sipping his milkshake with an amused glint in his eyes. Logan stiffened. “It’s okay! I was pretty nervous too. It’s been a while since my last date, so…” He trailed off as Logan shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Patton’s confession of his own nerves should have helped to calm Logan’s, but it didn’t. 

“I… don’t tend to do anything that may come with a high risk,” he said. “With things like this, there’s so much unknown. And I’m much more comfortable sticking with things I already know. If I’m completely candid, I almost didn’t come. And I almost left before you arrived.”

While Patton so far had worn most of his emotions in his expression, now there seemed to be something he was hiding, though not very well. Logan could tell by the small, forced smile, and the way he looked down at his cup, that what Logan admitted had stung in one way or another.

“It’s nothing personal,” Logan said quickly, for some reason eager to reassure him in a way that he usually never cared to do with anyone else. “Roman probably told you that I appreciate new information, I like to learn as much as I can. Well, I was… nervous… because of the unknown. Because I didn’t know anything about you. But I think… I think I’m willing to learn.” Patton’s genuine smile had returned, at least a little bit, and his eyes flitted down to the table. Logan followed his gaze and saw that he had subconsciously rested his hand on top of Patton’s while he spoke. Warmth flooded into his face and he pulled his hand back, apologizing softly.

Patton giggled, the most musical sound Logan ever heard. “It’s okay. I liked it.”

His happiness was infectious; Logan definitely understood what Roman meant about lighting up a room.

And, worse, he understood what Virgil meant the night before. I think you’re afraid that you’ll like him. Facing one fear means facing a hundred more, each more terrifying than the last. If Patton had been unlikeable from the moment they met, Logan would have walked out of that cafe having lost nothing. But instead, he left feeling as if he’d gained something.

And everything that could be gained, could also be lost.

Before they parted ways, they exchanged information. Their phone numbers, and Logan had also given Patton the link to his blog, since the latter grew excited when it was mentioned, and insisted on reading it. No one had ever been excited to read his blog before.

Just as Logan arrived back at the apartment and pulled his phone from his pocket to unsilence it, a new notification from a new contact was displayed on the screen.

Patton When can I see you again? 12:02pm

[savturn]

“Don’t look at me with those big sad eyes. I can’t take it” with Robbie and Anti?

There were a few times where Robbie had caught Anti coming back home at some ungodly hour of the morning, covered in blood that wasn’t his own. Being a zombie meant that he was naturally attracted to the scent of blood and flesh, which turned Anti into a beacon of light when he was trying to sneak in unnoticed. Of course, Robbie didn’t give into his cravings and tried to stick with the raw meats they kept in the fridge for him. 

However, there was only so much the poor zombie could take before he would end up caving. The smell was intoxicating and messed with his head, making him act more like the flesh-eating being he had become. 

One night, Anti was silently making his way out of the house, planning to end another victim’s life that night. Robbie heard him creeping down the stairs and followed, his stomach rumbling at the thought of sinking his teeth into some sweet, juicy flesh. He hadn’t eaten all day and was downright starving, clouding his morals. 

The demon sensed that he was being followed, turning around and spotting Robbie’s head peeking out from around the corner to the entrance. He rose a brow, tilting his head with a curious and expectant look. 

“Why are ya followin’ me?” he inquired.

“R-Robbiiiiiiee.... Cuuurious,” the zombie bluffed, looking off to the side.

“Yer a terrible liar,” Anti responded with an unimpressed huff. 

Robbie looked back toward the demon, grey eyes twinkling under the moonlight seeping in through the windows as a pout formed on his lips.

“Hu-Hungryyy.... Bring Robbiieee?” he requested innocently, pulling out the puppy-dog look on Anti.

“Doc’s not gonna be happy with ya if he finds out yer tryin’ ta go fer fresh meat,” Anti pointed out, trying to act like the other’s big eyes and pout weren’t affecting him. He shuffled uncomfortably, watching as Robbie blinked with a deepening frown. “Don’t look at me with those big sad eyes. I can’t take it.”

“Robbbiie won’t teeeellll,” the zombie tried, hoping that Anti would let him tag along. 

The demon let out a defeated sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. He couldn’t believe he was actually going to bring Robbie out on one of his kills. Maybe he should just go for a criminal tonight, just for the sake of the zombie’s conscience. 

“Alright, fine. Put yer shoes on, an’ make it snappy,” Anti muttered, crossing his arms along his chest.

“Yaaaaay, thank youuu Antiiiii,” Robbie silently cheered, throwing his hands up rather slowly as he smiled. “Robbieee give huuuugss.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever... Jus’ hurry up, we ain’t got all night,” the demon huffed, turning around so that Robbie wouldn’t see the speck of warmth that flashed in his eyes, even if it was only for a moment.

[writingwithadinosaur]

“Rescue Mission” - Part 4

“Rescue Mission” - Part 4

( Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 )

My Masterlist - Here

My Tag List - Here

Frank Castle x Reader

Matthew Murdock x Sister!Reader

Word Count: 1,567

Key: Y/N = Your Name, H/C = Your Hair Color, E/C = Your Eye Color

Warnings: Language, Violence, Kidnapping

Summary: You’re one of the vigilantes that run through Hell’s Kitchen, trying to make it a better place. You’re also dating the “dead” Frank Castle. Everything is manageable until you run into Daredevil and find out that he’s your brother, Matthew. Then shit hits the fan more than usual in Hell’s Kitchen.

Author’s Note: So I have this idea where I want to just have a sort of universe where the Hell's Kitchen boys and a vigilante reader are all together. For instance, my previous Frank piece “Care” would be a part of this universe. Not exactly sure about the timeline yet, but when I do, I will make a post about it.

For now, this is is going to be a series. So once I get all my ducks in a line, I will update you guys with the order of this universe.

Shoutout to @witchymarvelspacecasefor being there for me for the past year! I can’t wait to see where our friendship goes! Please check out her blog and read her great work! 

If you would like to be tagged in any of my future pieces, check out my tag list above and let me know! And as always, feedback is greatly appreciated!

<3

- DreaSaurusREX

You could remember getting jumped in the alleyway on the way to Matthew’s. There was a bit of a scuffle and the greasy jerk had gotten the upperhand. But the next thing you knew, you woke up in a building that you had never been in before, strapped to a chair thanks to thick rope around your wrists, elbows, and ankles. You could feel a rash forming beneath the ropes.

There were only two windows on the wall behind you. Turning your neck as far as it could go, you were able to see a little bit out of the window to your left. There were other tall buildings around, so you knew you were still in the city; you couldn’t be too far from where you’d been jumped. Other than the windows, all you could see in the room when you looked around were a couple tables, chairs, and weapons spread out on the table closest to you. There were six men scattered around the room. Some in chairs, others standing and conversing.

Within seconds of you waking up and getting a basis of the room around you, a slender man in a grey button up and black slacks sauntered close to you.

“Look who finally decided to wake up! Little miss, (Y/N).”

You maintained eye contact, and did your best to keep a straight face. You knew better than to crumble under pressure. You just hoped you could survive whatever shit this asshole had planned for you.

“Or should should I say... Cerberus?”

You couldn’t help but tense up. Somehow this prick found out about your alter ego, which meant he could do some real damage. Not only to you, but to the people you cared about.

“I’m gonna keep this nice and simple. All you gotta do is tell me what I wanna know, and I won’t have my boy, Charlie, here bash your ribcage in. Now, my name is, Jeremy Scottslyn. We’ve got a couple…  friends in common.” He took a few steps closer so that he was right in front of you. Jeremy squatted down so he was eye level with you before continuing.

“You see, we’ve been following Cerberus for awhile now. We know you usually work with the Frank Castle, thanks to your previous work. But when you and the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen decided to take out some of my boys the other night while they were having fun, that’s what did it for me.

“And then there’s the infamous Frank Castle. He has been after me and my men for years. He’s taken out too many of my brothers. So I’d like to get even.” You stared straight ahead, at the wall over his shoulder, and kept your breathing as even as you could. Jeremy chuckled at your attempt, and kept talking. “(Y/N), I want to know where they are.”

You stayed silent. This Jeremy guy really was an overconfident asshole. He told you his name, because he truly believed that you would give him what he wanted, and that you wouldn’t make it out of this room alive to tell anyone about him. Even though he knew about your connections to Daredevil and Punisher, he really didn’t know how fucked he was by kidnapping you.  

After a couple beats of silence, Jeremy stood back up, started to roll up his sleeves, and circled you like a predator. You kept staring at the wall across from you, trying your best to prepare yourself for whatever was going to happen next.

“Ah, so that’s how we’re gonna play this game, is it? My boys go through all this trouble of followin’ you and gettin’ you here, and you aren’t even going to say ‘hello?’” He waited another beat, but the only response he got from you was complete disregard. “Alright…”

You expected him to come from your right, as that was the direction he was circling you. But instead, he came out from your left and landed a powerful blow to your stomach, causing you to lean forward as much as you could with the restraints around your arms.

“You interested in talkin’ yet, bitch?”

It was gonna be a long round of the waiting game...

~~~~~~~~

From that moment on, you were punched, slapped, kicked, and whacked by the biggest lackey in the room, Charlie. After the first half hour of beatings, you couldn’t help but cry and yell out in pain. You tried your hardest to not seem weak, but the pain was unbearable. You just tried to keep faith that your boys would find you. They were some of the best vigilantes in Hell's Kitchen. You just had to survive long enough.

Apparently Jeremy was getting impatient. He yelled from off to the right as Charlie prepared himself for his boss’s next order.

“Tell me where the fuck they are!” You still didn’t speak. It was definitely harder to keep your body or your breathing still, but you stayed silent. You kept staring at the wall ahead of you, thinking of happier thoughts; of hanging out with your brother or being with Frank. Anything to mentally take you away from this fucked up room surrounded by idiots.

Another one of Charlie’s meaty fists collided with the left side of your face, causing you to let out an involuntary screech. You could feel it getting harder to breathe. Before you could recover in any small way, you felt the now familiar feeling of a metal bat whack against your core. You couldn’t hold back the tears that were now freely flowing. The pain was too much, all you could do was sob.

“We can do this all night, babes.” Jeremy swung the bat again, but he masterfully stopped the bat before he actually hit your face instead of your core. An uncontrolled scream burst through your chest as you moved your head as far away as you could. “Or you could just tell me where the fuck the Devil and Punisher are, and we’d be right as roses.”

“I don’t know where they are! Please! I don’t know! I don’t know... ”

That answer didn’t please Jeremy. Instead, he got even closer to you and began to threaten you up close and personal. You couldn’t pay attention to what he said. All you thought about was how much your next move was going to hurt.

You leaned your head back and smashed your forehead against his nose. Your ears were ringing impossibly loud and you were starting to get tunnel vision, but you couldn’t let yourself fade out right now. You watched as Jeremy fell back on his ass and check how bad his nose was bleeding. If you were in a better position, you would have been proud of yourself.

As your vision was clearing up, you saw Jeremy coming back towards you, but this time he was equipped with a butterfly knife. Fear overcame you like a tsunami. That little stunt you pulled could have just cost you your life. It just depended on how desperate Jeremy was for information.

A scream of true fear escaped you as he got closer. Then from seemingly out of nowhere, one of the other goons came up and stuffed a cloth in your mouth. You kept screaming though. You had to hope that Frank and Matt were close, hope that Matt’s weird hearing could pick up even a whisper of what you were able to get out.

Jeremy didn’t hesitate to slash your right arm before pressing the knife against your cheekbone.

“One last chance, bitch. Tell me where the fuck they are or I swear I’ll--”

Before Jeremy could finish, the door on the opposite end of the room was busted down and gunshots filled the air. As Jeremy attempted to get to a hiding spot, he dug the knife into your thigh, leaving it standing upright. The pain overwhelmed you and you felt yourself fading in and out of consciousness as you let out another involuntary scream.

You heard all of the commotion going on in the room. Mostly gunshots and a lot of groaning in pain. There was also a familiar battle cry: Frank’s. You felt the rope around your ankles loosening, and the exasperated voice of your brother. With what little strength you had left, you tried to speak.

“M-m-matty…? F-frank…?

“(Y/N)! Thank Christ! Yes! We’re here! We got you! We’re gonna go home and get you patched up, alright?” You tried to nod but ended up just breathing a solid breath of understanding towards your brother. “You just gotta stay with me! C’mon! Stay here!”

You were struggling to stay in the moment, but you did your damndest. Then you slowly turned your head to face the directions of the gunshots. Your vision was blurry, but you were able to make out a familiar figure in all black with a white skull on his vest, and a large gun in his hands. A congenial voice accompanied that figure.

“Listen to him, sweetheart! It’s gonna hurt like hell, but you gotta stay with us! Just make it home and we’ll be there waiting!”

Your head rolled back towards Matthew. Whatever he said was lost as you were lifted in his arms at a painful price. You couldn’t control the scream that came out of you before you passed out and lost all control.

Tags: @melconnor2007 @ashenfallsof @geeksareunique @all-by-myself98

[autumnpawtribe]

The Naming

((Preface: one, this is SERIOUSLY long.  This RP took place on January 26 of this year.  I know, I am slow to post things, you may make fun of me for it.  A special thanks to @seilune, @varianwrynn, @zynros and the multitude of others who came to celebrate))

Janaret sat on the wall, watching out on the road.  His troll mate's brothers sat with him, watching as well.  He spoke in Zandalari , playing with a peice of grass and waiting on the visitors.

Rythyren flapped, carrying his companion to their destination with a huff of frosty breath.  "Do you still have Mox'tilek? I know she cannot keep up with me.." "Your little one is fine, I assure you..." Ryleyth hummed thoughtfully, ears twitching, and cradling the little whelp in his arms. When they landed , Rythyren was quick to shift, revealing both dragon and the magister were clad in similair attire. The dragon in a silken robe of blue and white, with a cloak that ended in scale like designs of pearlescent white. Ryleyth was quick to give the sleeping whelp back to her father, adjusting his own robes. The magister was wearing crimson and gold, flowing, with a cloak that sported phoenix feathers along the bottom hem. Meanwhile, Zul'Jaryn was never far from Kit'raka, and elsewhere, Draigarth was not far from Lowenthal.

Janaret smiled, recognizing the dragon he had recently met.  He was in full Zandlari Prelate regalia, holding his weapon up high next to him as he watched and waited.

Sam arrives via gryphon, flying low, lazy circles over the gathering party to ensure he's in the right spot before landing nearby.  The bird, small and white, follows him after he dismounts, pressing her beak into his neck, his hand, his shoulder--anything, really, in hopes of a treat.  He laughs at her softly, scritching her neck and adjusting his dark travelling cloak.  His armor, where it shows through at hands and collar and feet, is silver, ceremonial, polished to a high sheen: nothing like anything he ever wore at the Cove.  His distinctive blue-crested helm sits on the pommel of his saddle. His eyes seek out Ryleyth, never a difficult task given the other man's distinctive wardrobe, and he makes his way in that direction--still with the gryphon at his side.

A portal tore through the air out of nowhere, leaving behind a shimmering shower of arcane dust that sparkled across the ground. Out from the other side stepped the mage who had spawned it, all adorned in fine Pandaren silks in shades of blues and golds, and various trinkets of Zandalari jewelry. In tow was his husband, the ranger Draigarth, who he smiled upon before turning to Janaret. "I believe I landed us in the right place..."

Rythyren seemed thoroughly distracted as he approached the trolls, offering a bright smile towards the prelate, Stepping forwards with snoozing whelp draped over his forearm. Ryleyth seemed somewhat distant, his arms folded over his chest after he had handed the young one off, his golden gaze shifting here and there, for faces he recognized, which were surprisingly few. When one in particular started his way, however, he froze, and his ears slowly perked, mouthing the name without actually speaking. Draigarth stumbled a bit on entry. Portals had never been his forte.. Adjusting chainmail with a soft grunt. "Looks like it.. Don't think there's many groupings of trolls in Hillsbrad.. I.. think?"

A loud Kodo was heard marching in, a young adult was apon its back. Hitching the beast to the ground, he'd hop off, lifting a cigar from his side, half tempted to smoke to avoid the awkward conversations he'd endure. eh.. He'll be fine. "Hau, tauren for hello." He'd smile to the group that were there. "Right place, I hope for damn sure." He'd grit his teeth. harmfull memories. but also good ones as well. It was time to barry the axe.(edited)

The troll that awaited the guests sat on the wall of the rundown keep, another male troll next to him laughing as he told jokes in Zandali.  He was dressed very simply not formally; black shirt, leather pants, shoeless as his people tended to be.  On his face was a line of blue pigment, just under his left eye, bright red hair braided down his back just past his shoulders.  His staff was a long gnarled stick covered in flowers and mushrooms, both living and in full bloom.  The druid smiled around tusks that stood straight up and angled out a bit.  His amber eyes glowed in the setting sunlight.  As he rose, he called attention to himself and spread his long arms wide as he stood tall.  The second male, standing up next to the druid, was dressed in the traditional clothing of a wandering grandmaster monk and wearing his smile proudly, face clean of all but a matching orange stripe of paint under his right eye.  He was as Red-haired as his companion, both with matching deep amber eyes.  The pair were definitely siblings, though the monk seemed to have a few years on the druid.  Next to them sat a Zandalari, standing in full regalia as the druid spoke.

“Welcome, Guests of mah bruddah Vol’raka an’ ‘is mate, Xiao Chun.  Ah be called Jura.  Dis be ouah bruddah, Venyabi and Janaret, Vol’raka and Xiao’s mate.  We ‘ere ta guide ja ta da ritual site.  Aftah da namin’, ja all welcome ta stay, eat, sing an’ dance ef ja feel da desirah, an’ make new friends mebe?  Come should ja be followin’ en peace.”

A large fel bird, green and purple in plumage, flew in from high above, circling the area before letting out a great cry before landing and flapping its wings. "There there, girl" the man said before hopping off the bird and patting her side. The great bird flapped again and took off into the sky to either perch or hunt somewhere, who knew. Zyn was dressed in his finer clothes, an ornate black leather vest with silver inlay over a black satin long sleeved shirt. Form fitting black slacks tucked into black leather boots with ornate silver inlay. His eyepatch, normally just a leather one, was also custom made (by him) of black leather with a silver inlay...lots of silver inlay.

With that, Jura shifted to a great, pale stag.  Feathers and bones dangled from a thick leather collar of sorts that lay over his shoulders at the base of a furred neck.  Turning his antlered head to the group, he began walking toward the sea on the southern coast of the region.  The monk moved to float upon a cloud of chi, beckoning those assembled as Janaret called upon a golden direhorn.

An odd-looking spiked rock moved slightly, shaking as dirt and brush fell away from its base to reveal a shell of some kind. An ankylodon wearing a silver torc rose from the earth to follow the group, eying many of them warily... perhaps even hungrily? It was hard to tell, but it seemed to slowly improve in its mood as it walked behind the group.    

The group would come upon the cliffside, the sun not quite setting in the west and the sounds of the Great Sea not far away.  There were torches around the area, tables set with food and drink set apart a little from a ritual circle closer to the cliffside.  There were several figures, mostly troll, and a few orcs in the circle as final preparations were made by an orcish girl.  Two small troll boys were playing among the tables, the older, red-crowned boy of about four chasing a green-haired barely toddler as he crawled around.  A pale haired troll woman was off to the side caring for two other small trolls, one of them squealing loudly.

Tal flew in separately from his mate, likely so they could have enough room for the children they were bringing. Anyone who might babysit was already here, so the entire family showed up, split between the backs of their two drakes. Tal's recognizable and rather massive black nether drake flew down carefully before landing and allowing its passengers to climb down. Cradled in each arm, Tal held a bundled Balore and Luna, the older Kal'dorei girl known as Ely for short, around six years of age, also climbed down; though she stuck incredibly close to Tal, nearly clinging to his leg. He offered a smile to those gathered and then spotted a few faces he did not expect to see. He immediately stared down Sam and Kagtu, his blindfold folding inward on its ever so slightly as he narrowed his eyes, trying to determine if they were friend or foe. Surely friend, since they were here. He shook himself of the worry and moved to stand beside his fiance, looking to pass him one of the twins and smile at Vynnie who was surely beside them now as well. "There is a nice crowd here, this will be a wonderful ceremony I can already feel it." He said as he began to follow along and gaze out over the cliffside as they came upon it.

As they walk, Sam heads over to Ryleyth's side quickly, the gryphon aiding in clearing a path through the crowd, but then slows down considerably.  By the flush on his face, he seems not quite certain of what to say, and settles for something neutral: "It's a beautiful location, isn't it?"

Lowenthal glanced around at the gathering crowd, curiosity glinting in a green gaze. He wasn't completely seasoned on the traditions of trolls nor pandaren, and it was easy to see his interest was piqued. Looking around for familiar faces, he made sure to wave at Rythyren, and made a mental note to meet with the dragon as well as Vol'raka at some point after the ceremony.

Kagtu tagged along, lifting both of his hands into his pocket. He'd look conflicted, being here. Along with some of the people here as well, but the past is the past, and it'd be better to look to the future. with a deep sigh, he'd look back to Tal. "..Hey." He'd say softly. yet weakly. like he was afraid to say anything else. "Didn't know you turned babysitter." He'd tease.

Vyn had ridden with his dad and had hopped off Melody with the man, but where Zyn was dressed like a proper noble (though he wasn't one), Vyn was awkwardly dressed in black slacks tucked into simple leather boots and a loose fitting black cotton shirt. He did, however, have a couple of ribbons tied to his horns thanks to his little sister Ely. "Dad...who're all these people?" he asked while standing between his two fathers and taking his baby sister in his arms.

Amongst the few orcs present, one massive male seemed incongruous with the rest- a 7 foot wall of toned muscle, clad in hide pants and a set of ornate engineer's goggles was rushing about, taking turns between hanging around a short orc woman and fussing over one of the troll babies nearby. Spotting this, the dino-thing that followed the group let out a low rumbling noise... was it laughing?

The druid called Jura spoke and letting his voice carry, addressing the gathering.  “Come, stand around da circle.  We ask ja not step en til et be time ta speak.  At da end, da Farseeah gonna ask ef ja wish ta say a few words ta mah baby niece an introduce jaself ta ‘er.  Ef ja not want ja children seein’ some tings what be a lil scary fer em.  Best leave em wit mah mate, Zaita ovah dere.” Another troll walked up to join the brothers and Aret, his own visage painted in white and green, bright orange atop, spiked, but cut at his neck and the simple robes of a druid covering his body.  He seemed to want to disappear into the crowd and sat next to his kin.  He spoke in his native tongue, looking at the crowd for a moment longer.  “Fi riva difus Deh so yeyewata honnah dim fus dim cyaa fus deh'yo cyaa chaKa deh craaweh.”

((Tsal: “So many elves.  Not my favorite people, but the one with the silver-white hair isn’t bad looking.”))

Draigarth stuck close to his husband, amused by the sparkle that had been absent in his eyes for a little while hence. He seemed pleased enough to follow along for now, though he was clearly close enough, that the predator within him would read as possessive of the Cryomancer.. at least, for a fellow predator. Rythyren smiled cheerily, nodding to Lowenthal when he noticed his adopted son. Rocking the sleeping whelp from side to side, he picked a place to settle out of the way, waiting and watching, himself. He settled off to one side with a curious expression as they were told where to settle. Ryleyth offered a weak smile, tense, as if he feared all the worst reasons for the paladin to be before him. "Y-Yes.. Yes it is... H.. How have you been?" Zul'Jaryn shifted on his feet, adjusting his garb, which consisted of traditional attire, bones and feathers hanging from robes and headdress clearly styled for the Loa he followed. Bwonsamdi.

Tal offered him a small, slightly tentative smile when Kag spoke. However, when he mentioned babysitter, Tal broke into a grin and chuckled. "Is it considered babysitting if they are your own children? Hm... I never considered." He said with a shrug. "I think you met Balore and Luna." He looked back to the sheepish Kaldorei behind him now and wrapped his free arm around her to pull her forward with a quiet nervous whimper from the girl. "This is Elysara, we call her Ely. We adopted her after Teldrassil..." He murmured the words in Orcish, glad the girl couldn't speak it well just yet, knowing that it made her upset to think about it. It was then they were called to stand around the circle, moving to guide Ely to follow him as he stood where he was indicated to so he could bear witness to the ceremony.

Lowenthal glanced at the source of the Zandalari words, and then raised a brow, looking around. Now was his chance to socialize, perhaps. "And who would that be?" he said, smiling as he pronounced the foreign words carefully.

Seilune materialized at the designated spot in a faint, amethyst dust of arcane, remnants of the magic lingering on her tulle gown as she sauntered over to the gathered group. A glowing, lilac gaze slowly swept across the woman's surroundings, taking in the spectacular sight of the cliffside view of the Great Sea, and a soft, blissful sigh escaped between her lips. "Greetings, everyone," the woman spoke with eloquence, bowing deeply to the band of faces that were both familiar and foreign to her. "A beautiful locale indeed. Most fitting for such a joyous occasion. I thank you for the humble invitation, I have not attended a ceremony of this kind before."

Kagtu moved with Tal. odd considering he was a demon hunter. The human paused. face twisting with guilt. he'd switch to Orcish as well. "..We should-" Once more, he'd pause. thinking about the past.  His face showed it. Kagtu waved to the two kids. he'd look up to Tal. Guilt cleaving his face in two. "..I'm glad your out." He'd look around, using his right hand to point to the group. "To this band of misfits. family, even, if I am bold to call it that." He'd say with a hit of heart in his voice.

Zyn gave a wave to Kagtu with a grin before moving over with Tal when they were all motioned, Vyn following his parents and probably remaining silent for the remainder of the ceremony.

The altar was not fancy.  It was a simple flat stone, propped up on three other stones to keep it off the ground.  A piece of leather, crossed with sky-blue silk, woven with tiny silver phoenices covered and kept the stone’s occupant clear of smudge or damage.  On the altar lay a simple, but heavily bound book.  The leather did not look like it came from an animal.  The pages covered in drawings and runes that could be seen from a few feet away.  It was a focal point for the troll family gathered around to welcome a new soul to their lives.  This book was their guide to the rite they sought to complete that evening.

A female troll farseer stood at the small stone altar, clad in simple leather robes, but with items and adornments that she only pulled out for very special occasions.  Traditional pigments graced her cheeks and nose, blue, red and gold over face, arms and neck where her clothing did not cover sky-blue skin.  Red and blue axebeak feathers and golden beads were woven into the shaman’s straight thin braids as she looked to her right and left, gold hoop earrings jingling from her ears.

To the shaman’s right was a tall, well built and fierce looking troll woman, standing in a simple brown linen cloth skirt and short top, forearms covered with bone and iron bracers.  The warrior woman was painted in blue and red as well, a collared, golden-scaled raptor standing quietly at her side.  The woman, her violet hair pinned and braided behind her ear on one side and shaved on the other to show off the golden hoops in her ears, gave the well trained beast an occasional scratch on the chin.

On the Farseer’s left, a small half-orc mag’har girl stood with an obsidian knife and stone bowl, a small smile on her face.  She was painted just as the other two, her hair braided simply in comparison and tucked behind her ears.  She did not wear golden earrings, but iron as her own people.  Her own robes tied at the waist by a leather strap decorated with bone beads and laced up with a black strap of leather at her chest like a bodice.  The bowl she held was old, rough and not at all ornate, but it radiated with magic for those who could sense such things.  It was  well used, and passed down along this family’s line.  The runes upon it denoted it as Zandalari in origin.

Tsal blushed, looked at the elven mage and just grinned.

"Home," Sam says to Ryleyth in a low voice as the ceremony begins, "and glad of it.  One of the others followed me and took up work there as well--I had thought to offer the same to you but...I understand if you don't wish to leave whomever you've found a place with now.  Still, you're welcome to come visit whenever you'd like."  It's awkward; he doesn't want it to be but it is, and the fears that he'd abandoned Ryleyth there echo in his voice.

Lowenthal chuckled, but seemed to take that for an answer and went back to minding his own business. He observed the altar, then whispered to Draigarth. "I wonder what they meant when they mentioned things that may not be safe for children... I am not familiar with these ceremonies."

"Ah guess et be rude fer meh to stay like dis for de ceremony," grumbled out the dino-thing as it began to be enveloped in a halo of green energy. Standing upright, the Zandalari druid strode off to one side, examining the wrapping around a 3 foot parcel nestled safely away from the group.  

Across from the druid, stood a giant of a troll and his very small pandaren mate.  The troll stood upright and was dressed in a soft gray leather kilt slung low on his hips, held up and fastened with a darker gray leather strap and small silver medallion that resembled a Rush’kah mask on his hip.  His face was free of its usual warpaint, but his shoulders were coated in blood-red pigment.  The line of what did not look like paint crossed from his right shoulder to just below his left pectoral muscle, where a new looking tattoo in the shape of a tiny gray troll handprint lay just in the palm of the pandaren paw print already on the left side of his chest.  His hair, green and gold down to just above his ankles, was not braided.  He had it bound with leather in places to keep it from flying everywhere as the evening had a bit of wind from the nearby cliff face.

The unusually small Pandaren wore something as equally traditional as that of his mate, but starkly different from the Trollish design of the others. Wrapped around his form were silks of a deep crimson with brilliant threads of gold designs inlaid into the fabric. It was a traditional Pandaren kimono, draping along his form until it was cinched in the middle with a matching crimson silk belt tied loosely at his waist. It didn’t seem to fit him just right, and the aged look of it would imply it likely wasn’t made for him and instead was passed down from someone else; perhaps a woman, given certain folds in the material that would likely be made to compensate for breasts where this Pandaren obviously had none. His hair that was usually tied up in a loose topknot of sorts was instead tied back in a tight bun with ornate Pandaren chopsticks poking out of the brightly colored locks; the chopsticks having matching intricate gold-leaf designs on them to compliment the kimono. In the Pandaren’s arms, was a snugly swaddled and slightly fussy baby troll, with light blue-gray skin and the bigger male’s green and gold hair, with a dusting of sapphire blue.  Amber eyes looked around, not focused, but following the face of her pandaren father who held her in a sling over his shoulder and chest.  The fabric, a deep green, was embroidered with intricate cloud serpents and lined with black and white rabbit fur to keep her warm.

Intrigued by the ceremony and the prospect of learning more about Troll culture, the ambassador approached the alter a touch closer, just enough to get a take a closer look but distant enough to not disturb. Seilune bowed her head to the two Trolls respectively in greeting, the woman's gaze lingering on the young Mag'har girl as a grin spread across her visage from ear to ear. "Beautiful braids," she spoke, gesturing to the hairstyle with a single, slender finger. The trail of her gaze continued to the alter itself, closely inspecting the necessary tools with a slow nod of the head, a brow lofting in curiosity at the Zandali runes etched intricately into the stone. With the flick of a wrist, a floating tome and accompanying ivory quill conjured from a puff of arcane, the writing utensil scratching away at an open page to recreate the runes she saw.

In the middle of the circle as all saw it, was a stack of dry wood that stood about three feet tall, with small parcels of herbs tied up and tossed in regular intervals around the base.  The circle was cast with white salt, a bag from the Echo isles leaning against the stone altar.  She spoke first in Zandali, then switched to Orcish. “Lok'dan honnah reespek sca tor Wha fus Deh atuad iman fus'obeah Wha im ting cyaa is difus weh cyaa ju”

((Kit : Welcome, nieces, nephews, brother and kin.  May the Loa bless this gathering.  May no harm come to those who join us.))

“Ah welcome ja, all who come ta dis place ta welcome new life.  Ef ja ‘ere, ja welcome ta da fa’das of dis child.  Ef ja mean harm, leave dis ritual, for when da spirits be comin’ da loa will be sought fer blessin’s an da family of da lil girl who be named taday.  Dem what mean harm will face da consequences of dey actions.  Ah be called Kit’raka, and ah welcome ja ta da namin’ ceremony en da way of ouah family.”

Kag looked over to were Sam, Ryley and the other guy that he met in Dalaran. He'd was tempted, The young adult desided to move his way to behind the Elf. He'd didn't bother nodding to Sam. More or less wanting to make sure nothing was pulled. "Hau." He'd reply dryly. and his gaze was put back to the Ritual. looking back at it once more. Hopefully this wouldn't be.. bloodly.(edited)

Hands clasped neatly before her as the ceremony began, Seilune's eyes snapping to Kit'raka as she began to speak. She listened closely, nodding with a soft smile on her painted lips, the tome floating idly at her side still being documented with the sights and sounds the woman was experiencing so that she may reference later. The last thing she ever wanted was to appear hostile, her eyes widening a touch at the mention of harm being inflicted , idly looking to the others who were gathered at her sides. "I wish for prosperity for ba, papa, and child," she assured with a nod. "No hostility will come from my hands, and I hope none comes at all this day."

Zyn took Balore from Tal so his fiance could focus on Ely while watching Kit, he understood some of what she was saying in Zandali, enough to put it together. Vyn on the other-hand was completely lost on the troll language, poor boy.

Rythyren's attention went from the trolls, some of which caught his interest more than others, to the ceremony as a whole, quiet, even as his little one awoke, and he pulled out something small and soft for her to chew on, a crimson colored object that smelled faintly of blood, and emanated frost. Ryleyth seemed to relax slightly. "A-ah.. I had.. thought you.. were.. s-still with them.. It.. It is good to know that you are back where you wished to be..." He swallowed hard, before looking down at his hands. "I.. I have not... been... With.. them for several weeks now.. I.. I was.. forced to leave.. by Kou.." "I don't know.. certain there are .. some form of rituals they do not wish children seeing.. Not sure what though.." Came Draigarth's response with a chuckle. Zul'jaryn was settling off to one side, watching the proceedings as he shifted a small leather satchel in his hand.

The warrior troll and mag’har woman knelt on either side of the shaman, each with knees tucked under themselves and forearms on the winter grass beneath them.  Their heads touched the ground as the druid lay down on his belly.  Xiao and Vol’raka did not kneel, but both bowed their heads in reverence as Kit’raka spoke.  The element of air seemed to toss her braids up playfully as her arms raised.  Wordlessly, the farseer seemed to call fire to lick and begin to consume the wood, the bundles of herbs slowly beginning to burn.  The sweet smell of shaman’s smoke filled the area and those that inhaled the fragrance and were affected by the shaman’s grasses, would see three ephemeral forms standing next to the parents and now sleeping infant. For those who may react negatively to certain ‘intoxicants’, even the Shaman variety, it seemed there was another bundle of herbs smoking as well. These were of Pandaren origin, smelling of the sweet calming scents known to many as the tranquility incense that many Pandaren leave lit on long journeys. It brought peace of mind, calm, serenity, and most of all would help keep people prone to paranoia from certain smokes, Shaman or otherwise, from reacting negatively and panicking. “We call ta ja, spirits who come bearin’ witness ta da namin’ of dis girl.  Come ta give ja blessin’s ta dis one of ja blood.  Cyaa Uptfeel cyaa Craaweh Cyaa difus weh weh yu iyaz dim nehjo difus smadda ting skam Difus weh yudo sca nehjo difus deh'yo”

((Kit : Come, Mothers, come fathers.  Come those who are at rest, but guide their family from afar.  Those who once, and still, grant wisdom.)) Kit gave the Shal'dorei a small smile of acknowledgement, looking to the rest of the circle of people and nodding to those she may know, which were not many.

Lowenthal tilted his head, deeply inhaling the sweet smoke that mingled with the air. It certainly brought the tranquility it promised, balancing out the effects that the shaman's smoke brought. Blinking, the mage rubbed his eyes, wondering if anyone else could see what he was suddenly seeing.

The smell hit his mind like a truck. fingers wrapping around his face. as he'd breath the smell in. "What.." He'd say softly, as he'd look back up to the Ritual, some of his paranoia was eased, The young adult looked around. he'd look to his hands. giveing a small smile. smelt like home, sweet home. Kagtu lifted his gaze once more, over to Seilune, He'd only say one thing, "Arcwine Lady!" He'd wave happly, oh man. he loved that time he tasted Arcwine.. Oh, right, the Ritual. he'd dart back. breathing heavly. calmer, more.. at peace with himself for the moment.

"For those who ain sure of what ya be seein, yes ja be seein dem," said the druid who joined the circle after he finished his inspection.

Tal smirked as he saw the smoke forming, taking a deeeeeep inhale to let some of the smoke take effect. However, he didn't think of the fact that Ely was standing right beside him. The little girl did a little sway and tugged at Tal's pants, speaking in Darnassian in a low murmur. "Papa I feel funny..." Tal looked down and bit his lip to bite back a chuckle. "Zyn, I think our little Ely just got high for the first time. Here I thought I would be the one to do it." He scooped the girl up into his arms and brought her over to Jura's mate, speaking in Zandali. "I made the mistake of not thinking about the smoke, she may be a bit anxious due to separation anxiety, but she should be alright. Jura mentioned you could watch her?" He said in a hushed tone, not wanting to distract from the ceremony.

A mirroring smile pulled at the woman's lips at the sign of acknowledgment, idly looking to Xiao and Vol'raka as Kit'raka continued to speak in Zandali. Being one who did not partake in many substances other than arcwine, the intoxicants within the fumes began to take effect on Seilune almost immediately. Her eyes fluttered shut as the fragrance sifted through her nostrils, a blissful smile pulling on her lips as a sense of calm and relief washed over her body. Upon hearing Kagtu's, her eyes snapped open, the woman nearly jumping out of her skin as she looked to him with surprise. "Oh! Hello, Kagtu!" She said, laughing awkwardly. "Please, Seilune will suffice."

Upon seeing the herbs and smelling the scent, Zyn looked to Tal before frowning and glancing over to Vyn. "Hey, take the kids te the babysitter over there fer me, aight?" With a nod, Vyn took his baby brother before nodding to Ely to follow...hopefully she followed as he moved through the crowd to keep the babies at least from getting high...they were hungry enough on a regular basis as it was.

Those influenced by the smoke would see the spirits that came most clearly.  One was a Zandalari woman, the bearing and demeanor of a matriarch in her power.  Her violet hair was spiked up and falling in braids over shoulders and back.  On her neck was a high golden collar, long ears graced with large hooped earrings, and deep amber eyes that matched the trolls who stood around the circle of whom she was ascendant.  Her clothes were in black and dark blue, a simple dress that clung to her form loosely with an obsidian bat hanging from a leather strap around her waist.  The spirit bore no accent as she spoke, her words the native language of the listener.

“I, Azu’lana, come to greet my great granddaughter.” The spectre grinned at Shu'kilo, looking around at the ones gathered to see the girl.

A smaller male, Darkspear from his look and build, materialized.  Green-skinned, he was clad in white and black, the colors of his order.  The mask he wore was that of the visage of the Loa of graves that he had served in life.  He did not pull the mask away, his balding head covered with feathers protruding from the mask.  He wore no other adornments, but his voice was full of mirth and a bit of snark as his words mimicked the Zandalari woman’s.

“I, Un’lai, come to greet my granddaughter.”

Lowenthal's eyes widened and he nudged Draigarth, speaking in a loud, awed whisper. "A ghost..."

A small pandaren woman manifested, starkly similar to the red-furred Pandaren holding Tiny, materialized. Red fur just like Xiao, long flowing hair that was tied up into a bun with chopsticks holding it in place much like Xiao was wearing. She was actually wearing the same kimono Xiao was wearing, except it was clearly made for her and the unusual folds in Xiao’s now made sense as they were filled out by the Pandaren woman’s natural curves on her upper half where Xiao had none, being a male. She looked at those gathered before looking directly at Xiao and smiling with a brightness that carried to her eyes. When she spoke, her voice was like a melody on the wind, feminine and gentle, rich with the love and warmth of a mother.

"De honored ded, I hear you have dem too."

When the voice of Mei Ling rang out, Xiao’s eyes nearly popped out of his head with how wide they opened. It was a good thing Tiny was cradled in the sling because Xiao’s head whipped around to look at her in shock and disbelief as his hands came up to his mouth and cupped over it as he gasped. “Mama…?” He whispered, his eyes glistening. When he pulled his hands away, he was smiling wide, a single tear trailing down his cheek now as he composed himself for the ritual, though not breaking eye contact with the spirit of his mother for several moments before looking forward to Kit’raka again as he needed to focus on the ritual.

Draigarth smiled softly and nodded. "So it would seem... Yes.. I.. I have spoken to my mother before... Thanks to a very kind shaman."

Azu'lana, the first spirit pointed at Shu'kilo.  "We speak Latah, Shiftah."

All that were around the salt circle stood once more, waiting patiently.

The cryomancer fell silent, looking as though he were deep in thought -- wondering why it had never occurred to him before to reach out to his own deceased kin.

When the ghosts began appearing Zyn just raised a brow before nodding and giving them all a grin, "neat". It wasn't the first time he'd seen the ghosts of others ancestors...man Xiao looked like his mom. She was cute!

Kagtu /really/ wanted to speak back to Seilune, but now wasn't the time, he'd give a salute to the Elf, then back to the Ritual. "Holy fel.. those are the spirits.." He'd saw with awe. the tauren /were/ right. Should- no. don't. the Wolfmane are your own kin. your blood, you are no human. These thoughts were pushed away as Kag gained a smile, As he said, Just like a family.

As the phantasmal apparitions manifested from the fumes' psychedelic influence, Seilune's attention was stolen by them, her eyes widening to the size of saucers in intrigue and a touch of fear. The scratching of the quill against the tome quickened, the pages turning at a rapid pace as the woman's thoughts were being recorded. "Oh Stars..." She muttered quietly to herself, a hand lifting to her mouth as she noticed Vol'raka and Xiao overwhelmed with emotion at seeing their ancestors.

“We welcome ja spirits.  May da Loa ja serve…”  Kit’raka smiled with a bow of her head.  “Or Ja Celestials as et be…  Guide dis child.”  She turned her head up to the sky, arms raised to shoulder height and palms out before she let her head drop in reverence.  Lifting her head to gaze at the fire, her voice rang out, singing her words in lyrical Zandali. “Gonk, Riva fu fus Worl, Icense fu fus Yudo. Ju caang wha deh fus oondasta fu iman siame fu siare. Ir dim iyaz quashi iman t'ief is iman difus weh cyaa is ackee iman dim skam Ting siame skam godehsi deh riva sca ju weh whutless is wha worl deh weh or'manley.  Iresh’ka, Vahari.  Quick as ja can.  No sufferin’.”

((Kit: “Gonk, Lord of the Pack, Master of the Hunt. We thank you for the offering of this child of yours.  He has been chosen this night to feed those who come to greet this new life.  Your child will provide for many and we are grateful to you both for his sacrifice."))

The troll and orc nodded, Reshka standing with knife and bowl in hand.  Vahari spoke softly to the raptor, the golden tinted animal almost cooing as she quickly snapped its neck.  One hand on the back of the beast’s head and one on the muzzle made quick work of it.  She held the animal in her arms as it attempted to slump to the ground. She stood behind the raptor’s head as the mag’har waited a moment before slicing into the dead reptile’s neck and letting blood pool into the bowl.  With great care, she left the bowl on the altar and helped the troll woman carry the beast away, their task done.

Lowenthal couldn't help but flinch at the sound of bones snapping. "Ah... so that's what they meant..." He crinkled his nose at the sight of the pooling blood, but continued to watch, curious nonetheless.

"Mmm, can smell its blood" Zyn mused, but he didn't seem to say much else, focusing on the ceremony rather than the hunger starting to build from the scent.

The human watched as the blood pulled down into the bowl. figured, he'd asume some blood would be needed. The young adult gave a soft twitch. as the crack of bones were heard. yet.. he was dull, giveing a dull yet amused face watching this.. tribal practice. In a way, he felt pride, his inner animal pleased for the ritual, even if he wasn't a Troll or Pandaran. His blood was calm, not raging. good thing he took a pill before he got here.

Janaret stood back with Jura, Venya and Tsal, watching Hari and Reshka take the raptor away, murmuring a small prayer to Gonk out of thanks.  The Three brothers watched, quietly, bending their heads as well, both Tsal and Jura Druids of the Master of the Hunt.

Like a siren beckoning the tides, the rhythmic uttering of Zandali that Kit'raka spoke lulled Seilune to its melodic effect, the woman swaying from side to side idly in her intoxication. Being an elf who followed not patron deity or religion, the mention of Loas and Celestials held not personal meaning to her, but she could appreciate the sentimental value behind the presence and offering. In her trance, she barely reacted to the grisly sound of bones snapping, her pearlescent brows merely flicking as the kill was made.

Xiao carefully removed the sling from his form and cradled Tiny in his arms before carefully passing her off to Vol’raka. He looped the sling over his mate’s neck for him as his mate held onto their daughter and then moved to the front of the circle before the altar, standing in front of the woman, his mate, and the spirits. He cleared his throat and spoke out to those gathered. “We would like to sincerely thank you for coming to our daughter’s naming ritual. I know some of you may affectionately know her as ‘Tiny’, but after today she will be granted her true name in front of all of those that matter to our little family. As some of you saw, there is a little bit of blood involved, but for those of you who might be squeamish, the worst of it should be over.” He said with a reassuring smile to those gathered. “Once we prepare the ritual and our daughter is named, we will have words from those who wish to speak them, any of you who wish to introduce yourselves to our daughter before the spirits of her ancestors. Once we finish with the formalities of the ritual, there will be a traditional meal served to honor this ceremony that I hope you all will be happy to stay for.” He looked back toward the working Trolls behind him and saw they had just about finished up and smiled back toward those gathered. “With our little greeting out of the way, it’s time to get to what you all came here for. Without further delay, I will pass this back my mate’s lovely family.” With that, he offered a small little bow of his head before making his way back beside Vol and smiling at his mate, hoping he did well for their daughter.

Zul'jaryn watched them as well, a softness in skull paint framed eyes as he watched the Raptor's sacrifice, before returning his gaze forwards, unblinking, or so it would appear.

Kit turned her head to smile at Zul'jaryn, Medi and Tir, their sons, having broken away from Zaita and sitting quietly next to their father.

Seilune smiled to Xiao fondly as he removed the sling from his body, the woman nearly squealing in excitement as Tiny was procured from the cloth and handed to her mother. She nodded slowly as he made his speech, bowing her head in turn to him as he returned the floor to Vol'raka and their kin.(edited)

Ryleyth had settled somewhat stiffly next to Sam, his ears twitching slightly. Somewhat embarrassed, and cautious, it would seem, a bit awkward, but it didn't seem to be directed at any one person, moreso if others grew too close to the effeminate mage. Rythyren, on the other hand, was all up as close as he could get, a soft chuckle escaping him as Mox'tilek bobbed lazilly out of his grasp, having to snatch her up again. "Not right now little rose... After the ceremony.. you can't cuddle yet.." The little whelp let out a soft chirrup of disappointment, looking towards her friend's bundle. Draigarth frowned slightly, letting out a low murr as the Raptor was sacrificed, somewhere between  curiosity and something more primal, like the Felidae within had been upset it couldn't join the kill, an urge he suppressed, in respect for his companions. Zul'jaryn's unblinking stare softened once more, as he briefly brushed a hand across each of the boy's backs, and offered a nod towards Kit.

Reshka, the mag’har girl, came back with a large basket of bones, stripped of most of their meat and sinew.  She was not quite covered with blood, but her arms and parts of her chest were the crimson of the drying fluid.  She placed the bones in the fire, the smell of the flesh that was left becoming charred filling the air.  The smell was a bit strange between that and the shaman’s smoke that still lingered, but not unpleasant.  At the bottom of her bundle, she pulled out the sacrificial beast’s head, moving to place it before the altar.  The jaw was removed, only the golden-scaled skin covering the bones, and glassy green eyes staring into the crowd.

Vol’raka walked up to the shaman, tiny troll in his arms snuggled in her fur-lined blanket and the big troll waving Xiao over to them.  Kit’raka dipped her fingers into the bowl of raptor’s blood and spoke to each father in turn.  The infant was between them as they faced each other, Kit positioned at the child’s feet, the assembly only able to see the top of her head once the sling was pulled away.  The hunter knelt so that the child and he were more at eye level with her pandaren father and the shaman as she performed her rites. The woman’s blue finger, coated in blood, ran from between the male troll’s eyes up above to his hairline, leaving two lines of blood again on the hunter’s left cheek.  “Vol’raka Raptahblood, dis be ja daughtah?”

The towering Darkspear nodded, smiling around his tusks as he looked down at the child and then to his aunt then mate.  “Dis be mah daughtah, Ah claim er as mine by blood.  She be ouahs.”  The tiny infant took the opportunity to whine and wiggle before settling back down again.

Turning to the pandaren monk, she left a similar mark on Xiao’s forehead, fur only lightly coated in blood.  She touched his right cheek, leaving two small marks of raptor blood on that side, marking him in the exact opposite from his mate.  “Xiao Chun Autumnpaw, dis be ja daughtah?”

Xiao smiled widely despite the blood, seeming to take it better than most would anticipate given how fussy he could get about the condition of his fur. He nodded happily and stared down at his daughter with such love in his eyes. “This is my daughter, our daughter. She may not be mine by blood, but by spirit, love, and a bond I know will never break, I claim her with all of my soul.” He looked down at Tiny and took the opportunity to lean down ever so slightly and give her a little kiss on her forehead, eliciting a happy little squeal from the girl as her Ba’s fur tickled her face ever so slightly.

Shukilo forced a smile as he watched the ceremony, stealing glances towards the babysitter's group of young ones now and then. The druid seemed both happy and profoundly sad, and after a bit of time passed, he mumbled something and had to turn away for a moment, as if hiding something.

The presence of dried blood on the girl took Seilune aback a tad, much more so than watching the earlier raptor kill. It was certainly unlike any practices performed in Suramar involving children. In her youth, she had attended parties with cakes and sweet treats, and children were covered with streamers and confetti. But this contrast to the customs to which she was accustomed only intrigued her further, the woman watching closely as the bowl of blood was brought forward for the ceremony. As the scent of bones and raptor flesh blended into the fumes of the smoke, the woman's nose twitched slightly, trying to identify its properties but soon discovered she was unable to. Part of her felt she should be slightly disgusted, given that she was aware of the grisly remains that were laid before her, but yet the rather pleasantness of the smell prohibited her to be. She smiled with fondness at the parents' combined words and expression of love for their daughter, the woman's gaze lingering on Tiny.

Kit’raka dipped her fingers in the blood again, looking down with a smile at her great niece.  “Xiao Chun, Vol’raka.  What name ja give dis child?  Da one ja claim by blood and spirit.”

Xiao’s smile turned into a grin as he looked to Vol, biting his lip in anticipation before happily speaking out. “We bestow upon our daughter the name of Tarja Tian Autumnpaw.” He was practically beaming, the epitome of pride and joy as he stood beside his mate and gazed down at their daughter.

Kagtu struggled to get to his feet, he'd start clapping. living the place up. "Tarja!" He'd lift a fist up. "Tarja! Tarja! Tarja!" He'd chant. man, was he going to remember this? Though.. he sounded full of pride, for someone he only met once.

Tarja Tian Autumnpaw, he liked it! Zyn also decided to join Kagtu in chanting "Tarja! Traja! Tarja!", full of his uncle pride.

Lowenthal merely grinned widely, clearly happy for the two parents and sharing their pride. He began to applaud in tandem with the chanting.

Tal smiled happily as he watched the beautiful ceremony before him, but when Kagtu... and then his own mate began chanting, he just facepalmed and broke into a giggle. He slowly shook his head, just grinning. "Ohhhh gods..." He didn't seem embarrassed in any way, simply incredibly amused.

"Tarja? Oh, what a beautiful name," she commented, nodding with approval. The woman looked to her left and right as the chanting began, a pale brow lofting in confusion. Was this customary at a naming ceremony? She hadn't the slightest clue, and thus she chose to stay quiet, smiling in soft amusement.

There was an audible smack as Draigarth facepalmed. Cheering? "I.. do not know if that is.. entirely.. appropriate?" The pridelord sighed. Rythyren blinked, while Ryleyth muttered. "Kag..." Zul'Jaryn spoke, a low rumble escaping that skull visage. "Calm jaself an Listen.. we ainna done yet boy."

Kit gave the human teen a look then her employer...and went back to working her magics.  Medi and Tir looked up at their mother and then to Zul'Jaryn, confused. With a nod and using her thumb, the farseer gave the tiny girl a small brush of blood on her forehead and lines on both sides of her face to mimic her parents.  The girl didn’t seem to like the fluid on her face very much letting everyone know her disapproval with a soft cry.

“An’ who ja dedicate ja child to, be et Celestial, Loa or Spirit.” Vol’raka straightened his back, smiling as Tarja wiggled in his arms, still upset at the blood on her face.  “She be dedicated ta da Spirit of da Old Shadowhuntah, Vol’jin Darkspeah.”

Kagtu paused. looking like a fish out of water. he'd slowly stop, and chuckle. Muttering a sorry under his breath, but damn, didn't he feel alive today.

Kit nodded, Vol’raka still kneeling down to be at eye level with his mate and aunt.  The woman’s voice rang out to the assembled crowd, hands in welcome and looking toward the blue tiger druid.  The old troll shifted, gray-haired and Amani in looks, walked forward toward Kit, Vol’raka and Xiao with a blue candle and small box in hand.  Kit resumed speaking as she looked to her brother. “En ouah family, dere be traditions.  Dis one, da ritual of namin’ passed down fer da generations dat stem from da Zandalari, da people of mah mothah.  Fer a male child, a bone rattle be blessed and presented by da fa’da.  A female child be gifted two paiahs of golden earrings on ‘er namin’ day.  Da first be fer ‘er childhood.  Da second be fer when she an adult.  Dis traditionally given by da ma’da.  Dis a child wit more den one fa’da.  Today, dey give ‘er da gift of er earrings.”

The old male druid stood next to the shaman, holding the candle and box, opening it and holding it out to the pandaren.  In the box was a silver needle, an ornate golden Pandaren-styled dagger, and two pairs of earrings.  Both matched save for size, golden and inlaid on the inside of the hoop with deep green jade.  Kit pulled out the needle and spoke, her voice clear and even.

“Xiao Chun, nephew, et be ja place ta complete dis task.”  Holding out the long needle and held the candle above the now fussy baby who seemed to know something was going on.  “Dis needle be da one what pierced da ears of her ancestahs, aunties, cousins, an’ morah.  Et be mah hope dat da same be said fer ja grandchildren, one day.”

Volraka held Tarja as still as he could as he looked toward Xiao, smiling seriously and giving a nod.

Zyn didn't seem ashamed at the chanting, just giving a grin up to Kit as they continued on. He had to admit, the whole ceremony was really interesting to watch!

Xiao offered a small smile and spoke toward those gathered. “I suppose since this is traditionally done by the mother, it makes sense for me to do it, hm? I am not going to be so idealistic as to think we do not all know who is the man and who is the woman in this relationship.” He said with a small chuckle before looking a bit more serious again. He murmured something in Zandali now to Tiny, though loud enough for those gathered to hear if they were listening hard enough and spoke the language. Though it was a bit stilted due to Xiao being a novice with the language, it was still coherent enough to make sense; having likely been coached by his mate. “Godehsi fu flimeff zutopong fus yudo skam ir ting cyaa J craaweh”

((Xiao: “Forgive me, dearest daughter, the pain will be over soon, I promise.”))

After he spoke, he reached for the simple yet beautiful small Pandaren blade and took a small inhale. He closed his eyes and brought the blade to the furred flesh of his palm, biting back a wince as blood slowly dripped down from his hand onto the ground. He let out a breathy sigh and reached for the needle now and carefully held the tip over the lit flame of the candle. After letting the heat sterilize the needle for a few moments, he pulled it away and placed his other hand behind the small earlobe of their daughter. He closed his eyes for a brief moment and let a bright teal energy form around the hand behind her ear, the distinctive essence of Chi gathering around him as he channeled it into their daughter. As he did, he gave a small squeeze in the cartilage of her ear, triggering some small pressure points to numb some of the pain that would soon come. He pulled his hand away now to hold the needle with the unbloodied hand and squeeze his cut hand over the tip. Another wince came with the squeeze as blood dripped out from his hand and coated the tip of the needle thoroughly.(edited)

He switched hands and put the needle between the fingers of the bloodied hand, though making sure to keep the blood from the actual part of the needle he was gripping so it wasn’t slippery, and continued to prepare. With that same hand now, he brought it back to her ear and let the mists gather in preparation before separating his fingers to leave room for the needle. In a split second, he moved the blood-soaked tip of the needle forward with lighting precision and pierced it through the sensitive flesh of their daughter’s earlobe. Immediately an ear splitting cry broke the silence as she still felt pain, even if it was lessened. However, the cry quickly began to dull to a fussy whimpering and whining as Xiao’s mists filled the wound as quickly as it formed. He made sure not to heal it completely, instead simply sealing the flesh back together where the blood was coming from but making sure not to close the actual hole and instead simply cause the flesh to seal itself shut around the needle without adhering to the metal. Once he had healed it enough to slow the bleeding but not so much as to make the needle be stuck, he pulled it back out seamlessly and finished the healing so that only a bit of pink was visible inside of the fresh piercing. He carefully took one of the gold earrings and slid them through the piercing, eliciting another whimper from Tiny before it settled in place and no longer bothered her as the metal stopped moving against the freshly healed flesh. Soon after he repeated the process on the other ear, mirroring his actions perfectly. Heat, numb, coat the needle in his blood, pre-heal, pierce, more screaming, seal the wound, remove needle, insert earring, and one last touch of healing on both and it was done.

While Tiny still fussed a bit, the second touch of healing and soothing mists seemed to be enough to soothe the infant as her fussing slowed mere squirming and unhappily babbling as Xiao nodded to Kit upon being satisfied with his healing job on them, offering their daughter an apologetic smile after. “Now you will always be mine not only in spirit… but in blood as well. Our beautiful little Tarja.”

Ryleyth winced. He did not envy her the pain of that piercing, his own hand briefly going to the delicate amethyst studs he yet wore. and his were far smaller than troll jewelry. He yet fidgeted where he stood, seeming to attempt to avoid touching anyone. Rythyren was wincing, holding a squirming whelp who didn't understand what her friend's cries meant, only that she was in pain, going so far as to feebly scratch at her father's arms. He hushed her softly in draconic, reassuring the small violet creature that everything was alright. Draigarth, too, winced, the memory of a few recent piercings leaving him with sympathy pain, though he was sporting a warm smile at the family that showed before him. Zul'jaryn seemed to be concentrating now, his swirling eyes of blue and amber closing for a moment as he recalled the words and actions he would have to commence soon.

Lowenthal empathized with the small girl; the sound of a baby's cry made his heart ache, and briefly he wondered how Calam was doing back at home before he continued to concentrate on the events.

Kagtu felt a frown, but didn't say anything, wasn't his rules. besides, ear piercing were bad ass. he thinks.

Illustrations of the objects being used for the naming ceremony were scribed into the floating tome while Seilune watched the process closely, her eyes widening and gut twisting a touch upon seeing the procurement of the Pandaren dagger. She acknowledged Kit's words with a nod, knowing that the piercing of a female child's ears was custom for these ceremony, but yet she couldn't fight the grimace that appeared on her countenance. The woman reeled at Tarja's crying, looking to the child with a sympathetic look, the  sounds of her wailing making the Shal'dorei's heart ache.

It seemed the tiny troll baby getting her ears pierced didn't bother him, though her crying made him want to calm the poor child. He also wondered how his four kids were doing, though once he looked back and saw Vyn helping with the babysitting of all the kids he knew they were all fine. Poor boy.

When the deed was done, the girl no longer fussing and her pain healed by the skills of her experienced mist weaver father, Kit waved to have them stand to the side as they passed their daughter to the shaman.  She bounced the little girl in her arms, smiling at her great niece.  “Child, da spirits gonna smile on ja, da be mah sincere wish.” “Xiao Chun, Vol’raka.  Who Ja choose ta guard an’ guide should da Loa take ja before she can care fer ‘erself?” Vahari and Reshka came back at this point, the raptor butchered and ready, both clear of blood and clothing changed  to simple half shirts and kilts.  Reshka moved to stand next to Dumbuss and watch him work, Hari moving to wrap an arm around Shukilo.

Xiao spoke up again now after Vol nodded at him, looking out in the crowd toward those he called the names of. “There are four people we trust with the life of our daughter. There are many we consider close friends, family even, but these four are ones we would trust not only with her life, but even ours if push came to shove. The woman who raised the man I love so much. Kit’raka, daughter of the Redwalker, and her mate Zul'jaryn. The other two are… well, they are my closest friends and they very well may be Vol’s as well.” He said with a smile now. “They are kind, caring, protective, and parents in their own right. Talrethriel and Zynros. Between those four, caring for our daughter if anything ever happened to us… I would have no fear for Tarja’s fate. With your collective knowledge; Darkspear,  Frostmane, Thalassian, and all of the worldly knowledge you each have between you. I trust you will raise her well in our absence, Celestials and Loa willing that never happens, but Vol’raka and I instill that trust in all four of you."

With a nod, the farseer called forth the three males that were to be spiritparents to the girl.  “Talethriel Shadethorn, Zul’jaryn Frostfirah, Zynros Shadestriker.  Ah be called as well.  Ah be acceptin’ dis task ta raise Tarja Tian Autumnpaw en da old ways of da Zandalari an Darkspeah, an da edicts of da celestials.  Ja accept dis task?  Et will be ja charge da rest of ja days an’ er’s."

Tal comes forward as he is called, grinning widely with happiness and a bit of pride at being granted such a honored position in the little girl’s life. He opened his arms as Kit offered Tarja and carefully cradled her against his chest. He was only wearing a kilt, formal at that, but simply a kilt all the same. As such, Tarja felt the warmth of exposed flesh and warmed right up to him, making happy little babbling noises as babies do while the large Sin’dorei held onto her. “I accept the honorable task of raising Tarja Tian Autumnpaw to the very best of my abilities, should the day ever come. While I am neither Darkspear nor Pandaren, I will do my best to teach her the ways of her people, if the time ever comes. Thank you, you two… really. It means a lot.” His smile was warm, his words heartfelt and genuine. He was truly honored. After leaning his head down to give Tarja a little kiss on the forehead, he carefully passed her to the man on his left who happened to be Zul’jaryn.

Taking the child gingerly from the elf, he offered the demon touched fellow a slight nod, before looking down at her. The elemental mage was wearing his finest ceremonial attire, which was to say a full length kilt, beaded halter and thick headdress that rested over his head and about his shoulders. The caster leaned down, smirking slightly. "Lil Tarja be a strong'n.. dis da bones be tellin me..  She be a fightah.. an one ah would be happeh ta teach all o' what ah know, should dere ever be a need. My eyes be seein many a ting. Ah be raised in tha old ways by a darkspear ma'da an ah be trainin her da way ah was trained, should it eva come ta pass. Till Bwonsamdi be takin us all, ya have ma word." Gently, he offered  her then to Zynros with a slight nod, his hand once more falling to the leather pouch at his side.

Stepping up to the front, Zyn eyed the crowd, nervous a little bit but just nodded before turning to the tiny troll baby. She wasn’t his, but he already loved her like family. “So uh, I’ve never done this before...I mean ye haven’t either, so here goes.” Clearing his throat, he glanced around and eyed Vol and Xiao before looking back to Tarja. “I, Zynros Shadestriker, accepts the role’a bein’ one’a ye god fathers. I promise te protect ye like me own, te sit ye when ye dads need’a do stuff, te spoil ye like the proud uncle that I am.” He also had a gift for her, his own blessings of sorts (even though the gift of blessings wasn’t happening yet). Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a tiny little braided leather bracelet, carefully putting it around her wrist. “This’s more fer ye parents than fer ye, but with this bracelet, ye dads will always know ye safe.” After he put the tiny bracelet around her wrist, he would hand her back to Vol’raka.

Vol grinned, taking Tarja back as she made noises, she liked looking at the new people.  "Ja lil one, ja gonna meet everyone who wantin' ta do so, en a bit." Kit nodded, beckoning each of the three forward to place a line of blood under their right eyes.  She brushed a line under her own right eye to match the others.  “Ah name us all fouah ta be da guardian’s of dis lil troll.  Ja be obliged ta fulfil ja oath ta dese mons an da babe.” She nodded a dismissal to the elves, turning to her own mate, Zul’jaryn.  “Ja who be called Uncle ta Vol’raka.  Ja been asked ta roll da bones.  Ja tell us da fortune of dis girl.  What da Loa speak?”

The mage, blue eyes shining a bit in the lowering light, came forward.  The book that rested on the altar was set aside a little as the big male moved to kneel on the outer side of the altar.  Zul'jaryn knelt and pulled out a bag made of leather.  The leather strap, where usually tied with a knot, was held shut by what looked to be a tooth, small and sharp, like that of a young raptor.  His hand came out with a pile of what looked to be large chips of bone, dark runes cut into the white polished pieces. He studied the ossein fragments quietly for a moment, a finger scratching his chin as he speaks.  One ear twitched, causing the chiming sound of one his chains, marks of Bwonsamdi’s claim on him.  It caused one earring to clatter as he ducked his head, looking closely at the three that came first to his sight.

"Da first be As Or Os.  Action, Thought, Inspirin' Enthusiasm.  Et brin wisdom and favah da intellectual.  She gonna go through a time where ever'tin' be about Talking, discussin'.  Time be comin' where knowledge be necessary, more den we all be knowin.  Tarja be needin' ta listen tadem what be know ta be wise an' informed en da ways of da world.  She do dis, et be a positive fer all involved.  Patience gonna be a powahful ting fer dis lil life.

Da second be Is.  She gonna need ta learn ta stand back.  Sometime et be where et best ta not take action.  Too many tings get en da way."  His hand waves from side to side, as if sweeping things from before his vision.  "Things will be troubled, en many ways.  En dat time, et be a time ta wait, ta watch.  She gonna know when et time ta take action, ef she listen ta wisdom of 'er own an othas."

He moved his finger to a third bone, smiling.  "Ger Or Gar, da third.  Transition.  Heraldin' da end of dark times.  Ever'ting happen en ets own times.  She gonna have ta learn ta adapt.  Be a willow, not a mighty tree.  Da reward be worth et when she able ta do dis.  Adapt an' be calm when tings be gettin' crazy.  En' da end, She gonna use dem skills ta do great tings en da name of 'er people.  One day, she gonna help bring change.  Othas be involved, but she gonna be one what help wit da change." "May one day, lil Tarja, ja help right da wrongs.  Be kind ef ja gotta impose ja will.  Bein' a good person be hardah den ja tink, but ja loa, ja spirit reward en dey time."

“Now, dis be da time fer blessin’s.  From da Fa’das, da spirits, da guardians, and Ja.  Ja what be ‘ere considered family en some way ta dis new family.  Et be time fer ja ta speak should ja wish.  Et not be required of da family, but et mebe nice fer a lil hello da ‘er?  Come wit’in da circle, be careful of er’ head when she given ta ja fer ‘er blessin’s.  Some of ja be from otha traditions an’ faiths.  En dis place, dem blessin’s welcome and wanted.”  Kit chuckled softly as she stood to the side with Zul’jaryn, their own sons sitting remarkably quietly next to them, but just inside of the circle with their parents.

Vol moved to take Tarja back from his Aunt, sitting on his haunches, pulling Xiao to stand next to him.

“Mah Tarja.  Daughtah.  Ah, Ja Papa Vol'raka and ja Ba Xiao Chun, choose and gift ja da name Tarja Tian.  Ah declare myself to be one who will teach you the old ways of da Loa, Zandalari an da Darkspeah.  We be helpin’ ta guide ja path and care fer ja until ja ready ta do fer jaself.  As we be settin’ ouah foot upon dis path wit’ ja, we be promisin’, ta Loa an’ Celestials both, dat we be givin’ ja what knowledge we be possessin’ and hope dem what witness dis be doin’ da same.

Wit raptor's blood we grant ja courage, wisdom, patience an’ strength of will.  Wit dese virtues, may ja fight for ja Loa, protect dem what be ja’s an’ be successful en ja walk en dis world an othas.” The troll mon passed her to her Ba, smiling down at Xiao Chun as he kissed both his daughter and mate on their foreheads.

Janaret smiled from the side, looking at his little family, grinning proudly.

While his mate was holding Tarja, Xiao picked up a nearby sealed box and carefully opened it, setting each of the seemingly mundane objects in four distinct places. One East, one North, one West, and one South. Upon finishing his preparation, Xiao took Tarja back from his mate and gazed down at her, such love in his eyes as he spoke. “I, your Ba, Xiao Chun, declare myself to be one of the ways of Pandaria. Even as Troll blood courses through you, you will be just as Pandaren as those who are furred head to toe. I promise to teach you in your Ba's ways, to pass along our ancestral knowledge and show you how to live your life to its fullest, under the Celestials and Loa both." He smiled down at the relics he had placed and continued. "With these four relics of the August Celestials, a tuft of fur from Niuzao, a shed scale of Yu'Lon, a broken claw of Xuen, and a lost feather of Chi-Ji, we grant you the fortitude of the Black Ox, the foresight of the Jade Serpent, the agility of the White Tiger, and the mindfulness to keep your hope burning as bright as the Red Crane against all odds."

Azul’ana did not take the babe, but her spirit moved to stand before Xiao Chun as he held the child in his arms.  “Great granddaughter.  Great things will come from you, equally great things expected.  There will be happiness and tragedy, wonders and pitfalls.  None here can nor should shield you from that adversity, for because of it you will grow like a flower in sand.  Never forget to grow.”

With that she moved to float behind the altar.

The beautiful kimono-clad Pandaren spirit moved forward to stand before her son and her granddaughter, smiling down at them now. As she spoke now, more than her simple announcing of her presence before, those gathered would hear where Xiao got the melodic undertone to his voice. Mei Ling had a voice that sounded like music on the wind, sweet and rich, gentle and soothing to the ears. The smile on her face carried to her words, making the harmonious notes of her words that much more euphonic. “My dear granddaughter, while I may not be living and breathing beside you, I will always be there to watch over you…” She paused to look at Xiao, her eyes sparkling with joy. “... and you.” She then looked to Vol. “All of you, in this beautiful family. Your life will be filled with more love and compassion than you will know what to do with and I know that you will become an amazing woman with an even more incredible soul. The Celestials smile upon this one… and your life will reflect that. Never forget that you have the love and support of those in the realm of the living and beyond. Your mama Mei will always watch over you.” Her smile only widened now as she stared down at the baby girl for a moment before offering one last lingering look toward her son only for him to return it with a grin of sheer joy as she moved back to stand behind the altar. Xiao didn’t even hide the tears that were streaming down his face. He was too happy to care.

The masked spirit came forward, smiling down at his youngest granddaughter.  “There were ones before you, there will be others after you.  Forget about none of them.  All will have something to teach you.  You will have something to teach them.  Lessons come in many ways, granddaughter.  Teach and Learn.  And, don’t forget to laugh.”  His spirit moved to stand behind the altar, all three watching.

Tal came forward now, Xiao smiling at him and offering his daughter over to the Illidari carefully. Tal cradled her against his chest again, more happy babbling coming from her at the unusual warmth of his skin against her. He couldn’t help but to chuckle a bit. “You beautiful little girl… you are truly lucky to have such a loving family. No matter the strife, no matter what mess life may throw at you… I know that you will always have this entire village of loving people to hold you up and make you strong enough to face anything. I am more than honored to be part of that village, to be able to be part of your little family as one of your spiritfathers. Whether you need, no matter the time, no matter the place… I will always be there, all you need to do is call. Celestials, Loa, and whatever other Pantheon may be looking… this one is special… and I know they know it. You are going to have an important life, little one. You deserve it.” With that, he smiled and carefully passed her off to Kit as she came up next.

Kit came forward, holding Tarja yet again in her arms.  Her words were in Orcish, soft and sung as a lullaby would be to her own two sons.  “Da loa keep ja safe, Ja heart guarded from harm, ja blood strong.  One day ja grow ta fight fer what ja believe en.  Dat could be da path of da motha, da path of da warriah, da path of da healin’ crone.  Whatevah et be, little Tarja, we all ‘ere ta help ja.”  She said a few more words in Zandali that caused Vol’raka to give her a look and the Spirit that was once Un’lai cough.  “Deh'yo dim J skam difus wha fu yu so han smadda fu ir smadda fu fu Iyaz Deh deh yahsoda worl m t'ief ting fu deh fus'obeah Wha skam deh ackee fi fus craaweh fu ting.”

"Tarja, ja gonna go on ta great tings.  Ah be a creature of da Loa of graves.  One day we all gonna meet 'em eat at 'is table.  Dat inevitiable.  When ja go, make sure ja sent many before ja."

Zyn took baby Tarja into his arms to hold her close to himself, smiling down to her. "Tiny...Tarja. I'm not  as good with words as ye Uncle Tal, but I as I said before, ye part'a me family an' that means ye under the protection of Shadestriker. May the Shadows ever be beneath ye, give ye a place te hide if ye need it, give ye safe haven from dangers that may lurk.  An' know that when ye be old enough, if ye wantin', I'll teach ye how te be one with the shadows." Leaning in, he kissed the girl on the forehead before handing her over to Kit with a nod.

Rythyren perked his ears, listening, thankful that when Tarja had stopped crying. After a moment, he spoke softly, with a smile. "If.. I may?... I have you lovely gentleman but a short time, however I find myself fond of you, if for nothing else than you have given someone very dear to me a new friend, and I think, perhaps, lifelong, if she has anything to say about it. As you may be aware, I hide little about what I am.. I am yet young, my youngest, however, has an eternity ahead of her." Mox'tilek perked up, before squeeking out softly. "Can I be with Tarja now?" Her snoot wiggled and a tiny serpentine tongue blepped out from where she rested in her father's arms. The entire display made Ryleyth giggle, if a bit hesitantly. The delicate magister, crossed his arms over his chest as he did so, his head down and his ears back, a flush to his cheeks. Draigarth was amused as well, though he wrapped an arm around Lowenthal, clearly something on his mind, but he wasn't talking, as he glanced sideways at his beloved.

Kit wandered to Zyn, standing next to him. "Now fer all da assmebled, et be ja time ta say hello, ef ja wantin'.  Step up an be speakin' ja words as ja be seein' fit.  An ja can aftah everyone who wants ta has held er, lil ting."    Kit now waited for whomever came up to hold her and speak.

Tal watched everything play out, grinning at the little whelpling and her incredibly adorable display. However, his gaze remained on Ryleyth the longest. Seeing the man giggle, show any sign of happiness at all really, it was something that made the Illidari incredibly happy to witness again.

Shukilo shifted from foot to foot, looking to Vahari for guidance."If et be de time for meh to speak, ah ave a gift for de family o de babe. De Loa I revere bade me make dis for jah, and ah know bettah dan ta disabeh de masta of shapes." Striding over, he collected the large hide-wrapped parcel and carried to rest before the family. Slowly he unwrapped the package, revealing a stone plinth much like the ones seen for the fallen in Pandaria. Almost three feet tall, its sloping rectangular form was topped by a silver-and-steel bowl for incense, and its base was almost a foot wide and nearly square. engraved on all four sides of it was a modified version of the Darkspear spear-and-shield that would take a moment to Identify. At the foot of the front was a metal weapon bracket, empty as Shukilo unwrapped a beautiful stone and silver mockup of of a specific glaive, of which no other quite like it had been known to exist. Reverently, he placed it in the bracket, and then stepped back and proclaimed "By order of Gonk, de master of shapes, ah shrine ta da fallen chieftain o' de Darkspear ta watch over ya home."

Vol bowed, looking to his sister and his brother-in-law of a sort.  "Ah be tankin' ja,  Dis be a blessin' on mah family, Shu'kilo, an ja too, Sistah."

Lowenthal smiled at his beloved. What do you think, love? Quite touching... I almost wish we had given Calam something like this. He communicated to his husband via thought, and through their link he wondered what the ranger was thinking.

Seilune stepped forward as the invitation for others to come forward and given their blessings to Tarja was made, the woman gingerly taking the child and cradling her in her arms as she spoke broadly. “Friends and family of this beautiful child, I am Lady Seilune Astrande. I thank all of you for the humble invitation to bear witness to Tarja’s naming ceremony, as well as for being welcoming of me. I have no tutelary deity that I follow. In fact, many of my people have abandoned the religion of old over the span of ten thousand years. But with that being said, I bestow best wishes and tidings onto Xiao, Vol’raka, Tarja, and all of you gathered here today. May this child always walk an illuminated path, one that is paved with success and strength, and that each and every one of us can give her the love and help that she needs to fulfill her goals and wishes.” A lilac gaze swept slowly to the child, resting on her cheerful visage before fluttering shut. The Shal’dorei pressed her nailed thumb upon the child’s forehead, and as she did so, the sound of soft Shalassian could be heard emitting from between the woman’s lips. “E’rath omnas…” Intricate, leyline tattoos inscribed across her periwinkle skin shifted to an amethyst hue as she muttered the incantation, a prismatic barrier of arcane engulfing Tarja’s form before becoming invisible. “I have placed a shield upon the child, one that is invisible to the naked eye to protect her from any and all that could, Titans forbid, attempt to do her harm.” Before passing Tarja to the next person who wished to speak, Seilune conjured a leyblossom with a quick flick of her wrist, carefully tucking the efflorescent flower behind the child’s pointed ear. “Erana-dora isil.”

Vol smiled, Tarja making a happy little newborn noise at the flower.  "Ah tank ja, Lady Astrande."

Reshka came forward, taking Tarja and bouncing her a little.   “I’m your cousin, Reshka.  I hope that anything I teach you will at least be positive.  I hope you have a far easier time keeping your temper than I ever have.  You should know that you have a great big family who loves you and will help guide you.  There will be punishments, and rewards.  Life’s not easy, Tarja.  The family who you choose as yours will help you through.”

Draigarth smiled softly. It would have been nice, yes... but... perhaps.. He glanced towards Rythyren, thoughtfully for a moment, before glancing back to Lowenthal. Perhaps... ah.. nevermind.... this is hardly the time.. He responded in kind.

Lowenthal lifted a brow, looking concerned. If you say so... but would you tell me later?

Xiao remained silent, watching the ceremony with a proud smile... but then Seilune's magical display made his eyes widen a bit and an impressed look crossed his features. The conjured flower caught his attention the most, grinning widely and having to resist from reaching out to touch it. "It is beautiful, and so is that gesture. Thank you, really."

It's nothing bad my love, I promise.. just.. ideas... He blushed , ducking his head and offering another smile.

Sam steps forth and takes the baby, uncapping a tiny bottle of scented oil and anointing each cheek with a little.  "I offer to you two gifts: the ferocity of Goldrinn, and the peace of the Light.  May your heart always know the balance between them, and may you never lack for the courage to do what you feel is right."  He kisses her forehead to seal the blessing, and passes her on.

Tsal, the orange-haired brother of Vol’raka smiled as he held the youngest of his niece.  “Ah be ja Uncle Tsal.  Ah not got much ta say, but May da Eart’motha guide ja en er wisdom.”

The cryomancer looked rather relieved, and smiled. "As long as you are untroubled... I think I will go congratulate the parents and meet the baby." He planted a kiss on the ranger's forehead, and stepped away into the gathering, waiting his turn patiently to meet the youngling.

Dumbuss got up and walked up the the young one, smiling wide with a box in hand. Opening it slowly, he addressed the babe as he handed an ornate mechanical raptor in Zandalari styling To Vol. "Dumbuss bring companion thingy for little one. Give to papas for now. will be fun for you when are allowed to play with later. Will help protect too. Dumbuss is with Reshka, you ever need Dumbuss, Dumbuss will smash things for you."

Reshka grinned.  "Awww its cute!  Dumbuss, no smashing one elf with other elf..."

"Well.. I mean.. Can't argue with the outcome of last time.." Jested Draigarth with a low chuckle.

Lowenthal glanced over at the mag'har woman. "Ah, that story certainly has made its rounds, hasn't it..."

"They are mated.. I'm certain he bragged about it.." Draigarth smirked.(edited)

The little Mag'har smiled.  "Oh Runda and Harken have even been regaled of THAT Exploit!"

Lowenthal exclaimed. "The only one allowed to smash Draigarth here is me."

"LOWEN!" Now the pridelord was blushing.

Dumbuss spoke.  "Need help 'frostypants'?"

The cryomancer grinned devilishly, but the gesture was countered by an innocent grin.

A bright redhaired male came forward, “Ah be Ja Uncle Jura.  Ah hope ja like mangoes.”  He gave a chuckle as he held the tiny sleepy child.  “Ja got two good fa’das.  Ja got all dese people ‘ere ta see ja.  May ja one day find ja place an’ ja footin’.  An' et sound like ja got an interestin' otha side da family as et be.."

Rythyren cleared his throat, covering mox'tilek's head. "PLEASE...."

Xiao made a quiet 'Oooh' as he saw the raptor, deciding to hold it for his mate for now. It was his curiosity that got the better of him as he found a little dial to turn and promptly began to turn it and set it down to see what it actually did.

"Of course not!" The mage let out a harrumph, flipping his ponytail over his shoulder.

Janaret:  “Tarja, Ah am Janaret.  A am new to your family, and newer to your life than you are.  Ah am welcomed by your fathers as theirs, welcomed as a new love in their life.  They welcome me as father to you as well.  I hope to be a good one, a good member of your family, So Zutopong."

Zyn moved from the group crowding around the baby over to his own kids on the far side with the babysitter and Vyn to check up on them all as well as bring Luna and Balore and Ely back over now that the scent was gone. "Hey, Tarja, why don'tcha meet ye cousins? This's Luna an' Balore." Holding a baby in each arm, he held them up to the troll baby and whoever was holding her.

As the raptor was set down, it whirred and clicked, its eyes flashing red, then yellow, then green and finally to blue. Looking around, it cocked its head one way, then the other, and let loose a tiny roar as it scampered around through peoples feet.

Lowenthal peered over shoulders in order to see the child, letting out a soft "aww".

Hari held Tarja up to see the babies, the infant very interested in looking at EVERYTHING.  “Ah be Ja Auntie Vahari.  Bwonsamdi guide ja.  May all da Loa smile.  Make sure da firah en ja belly nevah go out.  Fight fer et.”

Vol laughed, kneeling down and looking at the raptor. "Can ja make em.. full size?"

"... Oh Celestials, wait come back!" Xiao said as he hurriedly tried to scamper after the construct, looking to snatch it up and try to turn it off.

“Ah be ja Uncle Venyabi.  Not seen ya before this day, little one.  Mah blessin’ be simple.  Ef all ja can save en dis world be one, be sure et be jaself.  Nevah set jaself on firah ta keep anyone warm.  Remembah othas, but not forget jaself.”  The othre redhaired male grinned down at the girl before He and Tsal dragged Jura off.  They would be found by the fire, drinking beer and roasting pieces of raptor and Tsal inspecting the hide.

Dumbuss nodded once, then looked thoughtful. "Expensive, need to keep light.  Would need lots of special metals and would want actual hide from large dinos."

A moment into the mad scramble after the raptor, it was floating above the pandaren's head, shrouded in a glow that bordered violet and a firey orange, as Ryleyth's hand held outstretched, golden eyes glowing as he concentrated on holding it still. "Missing something?"

"Ja an Ah gonna talk latah, Cousin."  Vol nodded at Dumbuss and Reshka smirking.

"I didn't necessarily prepare a fancy speech or anything, but could I hold her for a moment?"

Hari handed Tarja over, letting Lowen hold the wiggling infant.

Xiao hadn't even noticed it was off the ground until he heard the whirring of the gears above his head and looked up. He chuckled and reached up for it, smiling as he recognized that hue of magic. He looked over to Ryleyth and nodded. "Thank you, yes. I did not realize how fast that little thing could run." He looked to Dumbuss now. "This is nicely made, Tarja will love it. I am more intrigued with it than I should be as well, but some things can't be helped, hm?" He said with a playful little glint in his eyes before he finally turned the knob the other way to cease its whirring and running.

Ever so carefully, the mage took her into his arms and held her close. As he stared down at her, he could only think of one thing: don't make her cold, don't make her cold... He smiled, cooing softly. "Hello there, pretty lady... look at how lucky you are, surrounded by love and warmth."

Rythyren smirked slightly, padding forwards a bit, before murmuring quietly to Vol'raka. "I.. did bring you something as well..." He paused for a moment, before offering a small package. "This... may help.. when her teeth begin to press farther..." The small semi-squishy object looked like a leather pouch, shaped to look like a Zandalari mask, cool to the touch, clearly enchanted.

Vol reached out to take the pouch.  "Dis bet bettah den booze on 'er gums."

Lowenthal rocked the child gently, beginning to regret having not brought a gift. After mulling it over a few moments, his eyes lit up with an idea. Balancing Tarja in one arm, he used his other hand to conjure something made of ice -- it was a small rattle, the handle shaped like an icicle. He let the baby observe it. "This is enchanted so that the cold will not bother her, but it is very delicate. If it breaks, I can make a new one without issue."

Tal waited for Lowen to finish his greeting before heading over. "May I?" He asked kindly once he finished, taking the little bundle into his arms now. “Perfect little Tarja… I am your uncle Talrethriel, one of your spirit fathers. Whenever you need help, support, advice on men even… who knows maybe you will like the Shimmerweed as much as two of your spirit fathers do.” He said with a small chuckle now. “You already have my heart even so soon after your birth. I always told Zyn children were hit and miss for me, but our beautiful twins, our wonderful Elysara, and now you… you all are a wonderful exception to that rule. I could not love any of you more if I tried and I look forward to getting to know you for the rest of your life.” He gave her a playful little boop on the nose and smiled before passing her off to the next person.

After Tal finished his speech, an unfamiliar form to almost everyone would appear near the back. An older, grizzled Pandaren with the more traditional black and white fur, spotted with bits of grey edging on the black, observed from the shadows. He was dressed in full Shado-pan formal wear, his full uniform with the low-brim hat, a large glaive strapped to his back with an ornate dragon acting as the head with the blade coming out of its mouth. He cleared his throat and stepped forward from the shadows now, speaking in an even more accented Orcish than Xiao did. “I… would like to introduce myself.” He said tentatively, staring at Xiao. Xiao’s mouth just about fell open, gaping slightly as he stared at the older man. “I-... ah… yes, please.” He said quietly, gesturing for Tal to hand Tarja over to the mysterious Pandaren. Tal seemed uncertain, but he nodded and brought the small girl over to the Pandaren as he moved to the front of the group of onlookers who had either already given their speech or were waiting to do so. The Pandaren took the child and held her against his chest, the cool leather seeming to not bother her much. He cleared his throat and spoke up. “Tarja… I am your grandfather, Lin Xuen Autumnpaw.” He a took hard swallow and offered a small smile, looking almost a bit choked up yet slightly conflicted. “I… have made my share of mistakes in life, with your father. I… look to fix those with you.” His speech was stilted as he spoke, odd pauses here and there as he tried to find the right words in Orcish without anything coming out wrong. “I may have had trouble coming to terms with… what your father chooses to do with his life, in truth, I still do. You… my granddaughter, are far too important and far too precious to let any of that get in the way of me meeting you. I am sure your fathers and I will have a long discussion after this, but right now all that matters is you and that you know… your Yeye.”(edited)

He smiled now, looking up to Xiao. “Thank you, for… inviting me.” He bowed his head slightly before offering the little girl back to her Ba. “I… am honored to meet my granddaughter.” Xiao looked like he had just seen Vol’jin come back to life, do a little dance, and then shapeshift into one of the Celestials. The shock was apparent on his features. It was only upon Tarja being given back that he snapped out of it and took her into his arms. He took a slow inhale and nodded at his father, offering a tentative smile. “I am glad you could make it. Shocked, but… glad.” It was only then the spirit of Mei Ling let out a scoffing chuckle, giving her husband all kinds of side-eye. “He knew he better come or I would go and haunt his Shado-pan tiger everyday to the point of it bucking him off every time he tried to ride it had he not.” She spoke rather hurriedly in Pandaren now, fluent and exotic, the tone pointed. “Nǐ zhīdào wǒ bùnéng xiāngxìn nǐ děngle zhème jiǔ cái jiēshòu nǐ wéiyī de érzi. Suǒyǒu zhè yīqiè dōu shì wèile nǐ yúchǔn de chuántǒng, méiyǒu rén guānxīn. Nǐ hěn xìngyùn, wǒ bùnéng dǎ nǐ yúchǔn de móhú de tóu…” Xiao had to cover his mouth to keep from laughing, the noise still escaping him as his father paled before chuckling a bit as well. “I forgot how feisty your mother is.” He murmured to Xiao before the ginger-furred male nodded back. “So did I. I have not heard one of those berratings in a very long time.” After a shared smile, Lin cleared his throat and looked at those gathered. “I will go back to the crowd, I… will see you after, I would guess.” With that, he turned back to the crowd and snuck back into the shadows of it to let the introductions continue as he watched silently.(edited)

Vol just kinda.. blinked, looked down at his furred mate, looked at the spirit again and spoke.  "Dunno Pandaren...  but..  she mad." Janaret smirked, nodding.  "His mother is.. displeased."

Vol’raka stood, Xiao in front of him, their daughter in the Pandaren’s arms and a bottle of goats milk being devoured by the tiny creature.  He spoke first in Zandali to his family.

“J ju cyaa is caang wha J iyaz honnah iman bwoyar ting oondasta Fidong sca Craaweh iman bwoyar ting reespek deh wha Ju wha deh ir ackee fu ting wehnehjo J iyaz difus Worl Noh saakes ju dim skam riva or'manley riva siame fu fus duti Ju  iman tor han wassa wehnehjo honnah wassa Tor han worl J iyaz cyaa Wha sca Duti skam iman difus han smadda wassa deh difus han whutless J craaW Caang wha deh wehnehjo fu fu wi'mek quashi is cyaa is iman dim.”

((Vol: I, we, want to thank you.  I know coming here caused some conflict.  Zulana and Alashzu have caused some trouble for you.  We may not be close as some families.  I know since Mama Azu passed, we all  just.. scattered like seeds in the wind.  We have our own lives, families, people, loves.  Our own ways.  I know soon Kit and Hari will have their own naming rites for their own children.  I just…  Thank you for thinking of me highly enough to come to this one))

His words changed to Orcish, the words far less well pronounced, but carrying.  “Tank ja, ones who may not be blood, but be family.  Ah be raised wit da teachin’s of Family ja be born ta an’ family ja choose.  Ah happy ta call all dat come taday family of mah choosin’.  We be happy ta see ja here and hope ja consider us a small part of ja family too.  Now..”  Blue hands clapped together softly, even that upsetting his apparently hungry daughter.  “Tarja be awake at leas’.  Xiao be havin’ dinnah prepared ef ja wanna eat.  Meet new frien’s, dance round da fiah.  Ef ja curious, Da Raptah, be name of Tigah.  He feed ja dis evenin’.  But der Rice an’ vegetables fer dem what not like etin’ raptah.”

When everyone did make it over to the food, they would find that alongside the raptor was a medley of Pandaren vegetables as well as freshly steamed rice. The rice had a very unique flavor, jasmine most prominently but there was something more exotic and slightly bitter. To those with a trained palate, they would be able to identify it as being Golden Lotus, the rice apparently having been steeped in the sacred Pandaren herb to bless the meal before being flavored with jasmine for taste. It was all masterfully made, the raptor counterbalancing the delicate flavors of the Pandaren cuisine with the wonderfully biting spices of Darkspear cooking. All in all, it would be delicious all around!

[ladye11e]

Deception pt 23

The conflict between the Assassins and the Templars is getting out of hand. Lies, deceit and subterfuge, now you must pick a side...

Tagging @geekgoddess813 @sweet-flash @ermergerd517 @i-wontgivein @imakemyownblog 💕

If anyone else would like a tag (if Tumblr plays ball 😑) shoot me a dm 😊

Link to the full fic so far is Here.

 You made it back to the Morrigan with little hassle, as you had managed to avoid most of the crew that were scampering about aimlessly in trying to figure out what had happened. Tossing the bag with the engine part in it to Gist; who was waiting for you as soon as you had boarded, you took a moment to double check that no one had followed you, figuring you had about half an hour before any kind of pursuit would be made.

"I suggest we go, now."

Christopher nodded and ran up to the helm as you followed Shay downstairs and into the living room, grabbing the first aid kit that had been left out on the deck for 'just in case' on the way. Tugging your mask and hood down, you held on to the back of the sofa when the ship suddenly jolted, feeling more at ease now you knew that you were underway.

"Come on, let's have a look at you."

"That Connor sure packs a punch, but lass, I'm fine. I don't need looking after. Actually..."

Rolling your eyes with a scoff when he perched himself on the arm of the sofa and pulled his hood down with a devilish gleam in his eye, you cupped his chin and turned his head gently, grimacing when you saw an inch long gash at the back of his head, accompanied by a lump the size of an egg.

"Gist was right, you are insatiable."

Grabbing a pad from the kit, you gingerly dabbed at the wound to try and clean up some of the blood that had dried and matted around it so you could take a better look, the corner of your mouth twitching when he didn't even flinch at your probing.

"Aye, but lucky for me you're just as bad. Well, I guess that could have gone better, hopefully it'll be a while before they start followin' us again. Least they won't be able to catch us this time."

Dropping the gauze as you froze for a moment, you spun around and ran as fast as your legs would carry you up the stairs and towards the helm, nearly ripping the door off its hinges as you burst through it.

"Gist! Where's my phone?!!"

"What? It's on the counter in the kitchen, why..."

Turning on your heel, you grabbed hold of the rail when you saw Shay bounding up the steps, leaping over so you landed on the middle deck and sprinted down to the kitchen without missing a beat. Spying the bag on the side, you ripped it open and tipped it's entire contents on the floor, stamping down on your phone with the heel of your boot, just as Shay barged through the door.

"(Name), what the hell's the matter?"

Rifling through the grains of rice and the shattered pieces of your phone, you picked up the small, thin microchip that had been attached to the battery, holding it between your thumb and forefinger so he could see it.

"This is how they managed to find us. I-It's my fault." You mumbled, lowering your head when Shay took it off you and glared at it.

"It's not your fault. Bloody assassins."

Your brow furrowed and your eyes roamed about the floor as he stood there contemplating what to do with the chip, pondering why you weren't feeling guilty about being tracked.

"Shay, there's something else..." You whispered, wondering if what happened on the helm of the Jackdaw had anything to do with why at this moment, you had zero emotions.

Swallowing hard and taking a step closer to him when he looked back up at you, you grabbed his coat by the lapel and pulled him towards you the rest of the way, pressing your lips softly against his. Please don't be broken... Please don't be broken... You chanted over and over in your head, grinning against his mouth when your stomach was fluttering, and a warm tingle spread throughout you.

"You know I'd never complain about you wantin' a kiss, but what was that about?" He breathed huskily, winding his arms around your waist as he leant against the countertop.

"Something happened to me after I found out about the tracker, and then when I saw you'd been caught. I was so, angry. Upset. Then it all just went away, like I was numb. But then, after I couldn't feel anything, I-I don't know how to describe it. I could hear your heart beating, I could feel it. That's how I managed to get to you so quickly..."

You trailed off when he was just staring at you wide-eyed, then a flicker of realisation settling in with a soft smile as he pulled you even firmer against him.

"You know what it is?!"

"I'm not sure, but I think so. Sounds like Eagle sense. It's rare, very rare, only been two, maybe three known cases of it. But it's always been the oldest and wisest of assassins that have it, and you don't have the vision, so I can't see how."

"So, that's why I can't feel anything?"

"There's always some kind of price to pay, for everything, but I don't know that much about what it actually does."

Chewing at your bottom lip and fiddling with one of the straps on his coat as you tried to process this information, you looked up when you felt his hands on your waist tighten, cocking your head when he seemed somewhat anxious about something.

"Love, just now, when you..."

"Don't worry," you giggled, nudging your nose with his and giving him a soft peck on the cheek. "I felt everything when I kissed you."

His tense grip melted away with a sigh of relief when you wiggled your eyebrows at him suggestively, stepping back when he reached out behind him and plucked up an apple out of the nearby fruit bowl, pushing the microchip through the skin and deep into the flesh.

"I wasn't worried." He smirked, feining smugness as you followed him back upstairs. "Now let's get rid of this bloody thing."

After Shay had spectacularly thrown the apple onto a passing fishing trawler that was headed back to the Azores, you were laid on the sofa with your head in his lap, flicking through the tv channels mindlessly. Chucking the remote down when you couldn't find anything that kept your attention, you shuffled around so you were now on your back, staring up at him when you saw he had his eyes closed and was half asleep.

"Where did you learn to throw like that?" You blurted in trying to wake him up, knowing he shouldn't really be sleeping so soon after getting cracked on the head.

His eyes snapped open, and his head shot up when he realised he had almost nodded off, stretching out to try and make himself a bit more alert.

"Hmm? Oh. Grew up in a rough neighbourhood in New York. Chucking things like that helps in a pinch when you've got a gang chasin' after ya."

"Guess that happened quite a lot then? Wait, you grew up in New York? I thought you were from Ireland?"

You sat up when he suddenly jerked underneath you, wincing when he gritted his teeth as he had gone to lace his fingers behind his head and, brushed up against his wound.

"I am, well my parents were. I've never actually been to the motherland."

"Soooo, you're an Irishman, who's never been to Ireland?! Bahahahahaha!"

You giggles multiplied when he began poking in your side for your mocking, only just managing to get them under control when Christopher bounded into the room, wiping his greasy hands on a rag with a self-satisfied grin.

"Well that was easier than I thought it was going to be, the engine is now running at two-thirds capacity. We should be back in Boston in five days, give or take."

Pouting when you had hoped it would take a bit longer than that; now finding yourself in not such a rush to get back, you prodded Shay with your elbow when you spotted him yawning and closing his eyes again.

"Yeah, I know. Damn I need coffee."

Gist took it as his queue to leave with a smirk and, mumbling 'rabbits' under his breath when you nudged your head towards the door, walking your fingers slowly up Shays inner thigh the second he had his back turned.

"There's a better way of staying awake than with caffeine..." You whispered seductively, adorning a huge grin when he suddenly looked very alert.

As Christopher had predicted, five days later you were stood at the bow with your elbows propped on the rail, staring out at Boston in the distance. You still had four days of your leave at least, but you knew you would end up spending half of that with the Templars. Even though you weren't exactly worried about it anymore, you still felt apprehensive at continuing working both sides, and it was about time you came to a decision.

Sauntering upstairs to the helm, you sat down in the seat next to Shay and propped your legs up on the console, sticking your tongue out and dropping them back down when he flicked at your big toe.

"Meanie. So how long until we dock?"

"Bout an hour I reckon. Decided what you're gonna do with the rest of ya time off yet?"

Looking up at him out of the corner of your eye, you bit the insides of your cheeks to stop yourself from grinning when you saw he was doing the same to you, thinking you'd have a bit of fun and wind him up about it.

"Well, considering I'm more exhausted now than before I started, I figured I'd relax a bit. You know, do all those girly things. Go to a spa, get my nails and hair done, perhaps a nice massage from a good looking man....."

Barely able to hold your laughter back as it looked like he was chewing on a wasp, you spun your chair so you were facing him, pressing your hands on the space between your legs and leaning forwards.

"Unless you had any suggestions?"

Watching him jab a few buttons to the side of him, you squealed when he suddenly let go of the wheel and slid his hands under your arms and picked you up, dropping you so you were sat just on the very edge of the console.

"Oh, I've got one or two ideas love. Checking into the hotel and spendin' the next few days in bed undisturbed? That's relaxing, and the room service is pretty good. An just maybe, I could help ya with that massage you were on about."

Wrapping one arm around him to pull him closer, you tapped your chin with your finger and pretended to consider it, trying to ignore the positively sinful look he was giving you.

"Tempting. Very tempting. But I have a feeling that I wouldn't be relaxing much, you snore. There is one thing I need to do, so you'll have to do without me for a few hours though. I'll think about it." You grinned.

"Will ya now." He chuckled, squeezing the tops of your thighs gently. "Well, either way, we've gotta go and check in at headquarters when we get back, might as well get that over and done with first."

You flinched at the thought of going back to headquarters and facing Haytham, not even thinking about it until now. After he'd not mentioned anything to you about what happened after the ball, you were still pissed at him, plus Shays reaction to you having been with Jacob, if he found out about you and the Grand Master this was not going to be pretty, at all. Also, if Haytham found out about you and Shay after his years of pursuing you, being the egotistical man that he is you knew that he would either deliberately try to sabotage you, or even worse, potentially out you to the assassins in retaliation. This was turning out to be a disaster. You actually considered asking Shay to keep your relationship hidden for now, but you knew that would create a whole spiral of questions, so you decided to scratch that idea. Your only hope was that you could get in, and out in the least amount of time possible, and pray that all conversation stayed work related.

"I know that look. What's bothering you, love?"

"Hmm? Nothing, just that every time I need to go to headquarters, I usually end up being kidnapped." You giggled, giving him your widest smile and hoping that he believed that was what you were thinking about.

"Kidnapped!?"

Shrugging your shoulders as he now looked thoroughly confused, you slid down off the console and gave him a peck on the cheek, before grabbing hold of the wheel and pretended to steer the ship.

"Yeah, kidnapped. To keep up the front, if anyone happened to be watching? Haytham suggested it, said it would be better that way. I hate it, but I did manage to break Charles' nose last time, so I suppose it's not all bad."

Your eyes widened when Shay walked up behind you and leant around your side, pressing the same buttons as before to disengage the autopilot, then lay his hands on top of yours and made you spin the wheel slightly to the left.

"Oh he did, did he."

Turning your head when he sounded amused, you raised your eyebrow when he just stared out of the window over your shoulder, indeed looking quite entertained at what you had just said.

"What's so funny?"

"You'll see lass. You'll see.

[spicedrobot]

Choose your own adventure: [ - THOSE WHO ANSWER - ] Part 3

Warnings and pairings to be added. Tagged ‘zen cyoa’ and/or ‘en reblogs’.

Previous Part: 1 | 2 | Read on AO3

> Ask the commander about his inside agent

“A final question, if you will permit my curiosity. Your inside agent...tell me about him.”

Jack glances at his holopad, then to McCree turned towards the hallway.

“His name is Gabriel Reyes. We’ve known each other since we were young. In another life, he was my hand.” His blue eyes shine then, and for a moment Zenyatta sees the commander with flaxen hair and an unlined face, a vibrant blue cape whispering behind him. He is happy.

“He always did everything I couldn’t. Still does...but, well…” His expression firmly recenters them in the now as it grows solemn. “He is still here. That’s all that matters.”

Zenyatta knows it isn’t true, but he won’t push it, not when the commander has been so forthcoming already.

“I see. Thank you for telling me.”

He places his hand lightly on Morrison’s shoulder, and the man’s expression softens again.

Zenyatta glances to his disciples. They are dead on their feet, though they would never say so. He gives them a gentle nod.

“I think it is time to rest. The journey was quite taxing.”

“Of course.” The commander says. “I’ll send Gabe your way tomorrow so you can meet him yourself.”

“I would like that.”

They both bow with a gentle dip of their heads, then Zenyatta and his disciples take leave.

“Jesse, before you point us in the direction of our rooms, I would like to return to the main hall.”

Jesse smiles, expression stiffer than before. Close to Gabriel too, Zenyatta guesses, though he tries to hide it.

“Wouldn’t dream of anythin’ less than showin’ you myself. Let’s go.”

Reinhardt is standing close to the throne when Zenyatta spots him. His mask is off, his eyes closed, deep in thought.

“Reinhardt.” Zenyatta says when he reaches him. He opens his eyes to look at Zenyatta, emotions still tangled. “We should rest. Let us go.”

For a moment, Reinhardt seems as if he will fight, then he sighs.

“Yes. I believe that is best.”

They follow McCree down the winding hallways and into another long wing of rooms, mostly unoccupied.

“Figured you’d want a little privacy, though we are a bit short on liveable spaces. Lotta walls are busted up, and nature’s taken its course. Should be enough for each of you to have your own room at least.”

Reinhardt retires with little more than a weak smile, but perhaps it is best to let his disciple ruminate on his thoughts for now. Mako retires silently. He does not enjoy large crowds, and a rest is much needed.

“I used to run a similar operation at my own base. Wouldn’t mind checking the place out after a power nap.” Winston says.

“You’re free to wander as you see fit, just beware of the holes. Castle’s a bit unstable in parts.”

“Er, I’ll keep that in mind. Thank you.” Winson turns to Zenyatta. “See you in a few hours?”

Zenyatta nods, and Winston closes his door with a soft click.

“You seem anxious, Jesse.” Zenyatta murmurs as the man lingers, fighting his smile.

“I jus’ want to make sure you’re comfortable. Do you need special accommodations on account of you...well, being an omnic an’ all?”

“My battery is quite powerful, requiring only a few minutes of solar heat once every 3.2 cycles, depending on exertion, though I do not mind resting for a few hours to restack protocols and run diagnostics to maintain system efficiencies.”

Jesse laughs, then moves his lips as if missing something, a tick, cigarillo nowhere to be found.

“You’re really interestin’. Artificial, but more...in tune than anyone I’ve met before. Must be somethin’ to those shambali.” His voice lowers closer to a whisper. “What kind of tenants they got you followin’ up there in the mountains?”

Zenyatta grins.

“Are you interested in joining our ranks? Or is there something else you wish to know?”

Jesse reddens beneath his beard, shifting his strange hat suddenly.

“N-nah, I...just, curious. I guess—I’ll, I’ll let you rest.” Jesse takes several steps down the hall, then abruptly turns back toward him. “My room is back this way and to the left, third door on the right! I mean, just if you need anything!”

Zenyatta presses his knuckles to his mouth, hiding his soft puff of laughter as he waves goodbye. He sighs, not unhappily, turning back into the room he selected for himself.

It is dimly lit at this hour, the shades drawn over the small window above the bed only just big enough for two, the only other furniture a small wooden table and chair.

The curtains shiver, and darkness shifts across the floor.

Zenyatta relaxes.

“Genji. I am glad you made it here safely.”

It is not fear he feels when Genji materializes in front of him, rather curious awe, the same feeling that always takes him when he witnesses his student’s innate power.

Genji clicks his tongue.

“Child’s play. I could slaughter everyone here within a night.”

“And yet, you will not.” Zenyatta replies.

“And you are so certain of what I will and will not do.” Suddenly the red fangs of Genji’s mask are inches from his face, nothing but his glittering eyes to be seen beneath.

> Ask Genji what’s wrong

> Call his bluff

> Ignore him

https://strawpoll.com/7gegba8e

[hotelsweet]

HI and thank you so so so much if you got involved in this!!!! I’m so excited to be celebrating 1.5k w you guys and can’t wait to dish out some of these lil prizes <3

u guys I’ve had so much fun doing this and I’ve legit sat here for HOURS going through everyone’s blogs and tags and I’m just so,,,, in love,,, this fandom is amazing and u guys are so gorgeous and amazing! I’ve been whining at @peraltiagoisland​ all day about how much I want to include everyone and shower u all in compliments and just!!! I’m so blown away tbh  A QUICK REMINDER OF THE PRIZES WINNERS:  - a big personalised playlist from me to u (u kno how I love my tunes) - a follow from me if I’m not followin u (duh) - a mention here!! - a b99 fic from me if u want it!!! any prompt ya like - hugs and love obvs

RUNNERS UP: - a lil personal playlist from me to u - also a follow if I’m not already - also hugs and love - and a lil mention here <3

if you’ve won/are a runner up please message me so we can talk and I’ll get started on your stuff! i’m so excited to talk to a bunch of you and give u music and writing agh <3

OKAY WITHOUT FURTHER ADO (I have added notes in italics bc I am just so excited and amazed by u guys)

BEST SMALLER BLOG (a very important category bc I actually do not understand how these people don’t have thousands of ppl following them??)

WINNER: @the-pontiac-bandit​ OKAY let me tell you about carrie and her blog. I spent a solid 60 mins reading her amazing writing and admiring her theme and then I checked her reblog and she had the #under500 tag and I yelled. not kidding. like an actual noise left my mouth because HOW THIS GIRL DOES NOT HAVE A CULT FOLLOWING I WILL NEVER UNDERSTAND. FOLLOW HER RUNNERS UP: @theartofdreaming1​ aka Vicky who is the sweetest person and SUCH a talented artist!!! @khwabonkeparindey​ anna’s blog is so adorable and maybe it’s bc I’m type A but the layout of her navigation actually turned me on a little bit oh my LORD it’s beautiful and so well-organised @two-drink-amy​ I was only gonna have two runners up for this category but nicole and everything about her blog is so sweet!!

BEST URL WINNER: @jake-purealta​ not only does tash seem incredibly lovely BUT this url is so perfect and well-fitting!!! I feel like, given her obsession w Tswift, it fits beautifully well with jake’s obsession too??? everything about it clicks I love it RUNNERS UP: @roscoesantangelo​ because I mean!!!!! you’ve scored the perfect url of jorma taccone’s character in parks and rec!!!? like damn good on u my guy  @amysantiagone​ okay I wont lie this one is for personal reasons- although I happen to absolutely love Nate’s blog- bc for some reason the url reminds me of when u get super drunk and describe urself as “gone” (a v popular phrase here in the UK) and as a result I just picture drunk Amy whenever I see ur URL

BEST EDITS WINNER: @juliadorable​ RIGHT OKAY SO JULIA (julia) is one of these people I’ve always wanted to chat to bc she seems amazing but what I absolutely love about her edits & gifs is that she picks/ creates posts for some of the most underappreciated moments in the show!!! I love em and this blog is a blessing thank u sm RUNNERS UP: @jakeperallta​ aka @deepshadows​ !!! look at these edits immediately oh my god they are actually incredible and so creative!!! i’m not worthy!! fam I love ur edits so much thank u for providing me w this goodness <3 follow alexa immediately on both blogs seriously @brown-aces​ I won’t lie I’m not sure if these count as edits but I legit couldn’t not include you because of THE INCORRECT QUOTES TAG. this is legit one of my fave things and ur posts never fail to make me chuckle

BEST GIFS WINNER: @fourdrinkamy​ okay so not only is Emma gorgeous, talented, super clever and just all-around marvellous BUT her gifs are like... so good they’re satisfying? like I spent a good half hour just scrolling and admiring ‘em RUNNERS UP: @amesantiagos​ okay this girl has such an eye for colour and aesthetic I’m not kidding everything just looks so Good!! like I adore her stuff to the point where I followed her on insta too (hi Amy I’m darcey_wm if ur wondering where I am) bc it just looks so damn good @sergeant-santiago​ I’m just.... like.... shooketh..... I’ll get back to this later

BEST FICS (oh my god what a category I legit could NOT pick someone lol this was painful bc u guys write the best shit)  WINNER: @elsaclack​ this feels a little obvious/predictable of me bc I’ve rambled about em’s stuff before but Dear Fucking God can this woman write. her fics and the way they had me laughing/crying/glued to my phone are the reason I  RUNNERS UP: @peraltiagoisland​ MICHELLE aka the love of my life KNOWS HOW TO KILL ME NO MATTER THE TIME NOR PLACE dear god I recommend so hard,,,, jump in and give the drama club au a spin trust me u won’t regret it  @jakelovesamy​ oh my god okay so let me tell u. let me TELL U i did not realise that this gorgeous girl was on AO3 but then I clicked over from her blog and it all came flooding back once I recognised her handle!!! I recommend u go and read ‘and all my world is losing light’ bc it’s gorgeous @oceanvirus​ again I didn’t mean to have three runners up but I had to bc I’m just..... a piece of shit lol BUT ANYWAY please please go and read Bella’s stuff I love it so much

BEST ICON WINNER: @brown-aces​ GIRL THIS ICON FITS THE THEME SO WELL AND ALSO IT’S THE LIGHT OF MY LIFE ROSA LOOKIN FIERCE so obvs I’m obsessed  RUNNERS UP: @jakelovesamy​ bc it’s adorable and I adore it @three-drink-amy​ bc it’s my beautiful, smiling boy,,,, grinning at this wonderful blog

BEST DESKTOP THEME WINNER: @smolsamberg​ okay kara’s blog is gorgeous anyway (go follow!!!) but this theme is fuckin funky as shit??? navigating it genuinely felt like operating the sexiest lil website on earth and for that I am grateful RUNNERS UP: @bastillebananas​ this theme is FUCKING ADORABLE not kidding I love it omg I had so much fun w it (also hi fellow fan of bastille!! I’m seein ‘em this summer at a festival exciting) @amesantiagos​ this theme is so cute oh my lord (almost as cute as the wonderful Amy who runs this blog!!! seriously it’s just so wonderful and satisfying and Good Choice my guy I love it (and u)

BEST MOBILE THEME WINNER: @swansongcas​ MATE omg your blog is so satisfying and blue and just like.. sexy to look at so well done my guy!!! also helps that I adore ur blog in general but omg is it aesthetically pleasing RUNNERS UP: @oceanvirus​ bella your mobile theme is almost as sexy as u ;) x (I’m sorry if that was creepy I promise it was well-intended) @two-drink-amy​ okay this is partially bc of the adorable icon but mostly bc of the theme and I just... it’s so bright and sweet and honestly just reminds me of my joyous response to every b99 episode ever WHEW OKAY SO BEFORE WE DO THE BEST OVERALL BLOG,,,, I WANNA JUST THROW A FEW SURPRISE SUPERLATIVES / FUN CATEGORIES 

this is also gonna include some honourable mentions bc I am supported by some brilliant people and also bc not everyone I wanted to put in on here I could??? which is crazy so:

A big round of applause to the X-drink Amy crew who I see all the time and firmly believe should all be led by the adorable @full-santiago​ ?? like a little clan of Amy-themed URLs: @two-drink-amy​ / @three-drink-amy​ / @fourdrink-amy​ / @fourdrinkamy​ / @fivedrinksantiago​ / @six-drink-amy​ (I’m sure there’s more of you out there but these came to mind and I want u all to form a band or something)

A big fat shout out to emily aka @jakefreakingperalta​ who!!! made these valentines cards that I used this year for my friends but never knew the source of!!! another example of the funny and amazing ppl I follow here

an honourable mention for the amazing @tiadorable​ whose comments on my first works on AO3 (and my more recent stuff, too!) made me smile and motivated me so much <3 now for some superlatives!! follow these people rn!!! and if ur here please feel free to come ask me to write or make anything for u ever I love u 

most likely to lure me onto the sin train and never look back: my girl erica aka @startofamoment.... can u believe.... the creativity and the happiness/giggles this lady brings me 

most likely to literally ruin my fucking life thru writing: obviously em?? aka @elsaclack. I appreciate this is a fairly harsh title but dear god the things u could make me feel?????? also a brilliant woman i love u

most likely to always have complete faith in me, chat to me constantly, make me smile, & constantly be a complete angel w a heart of gold and amazing writing: @peraltiagoisland. need I say any more????

OKAY so the big 1:

BEST OVERALL BLOG RUNNERS UP: everyone who reblogged my first post. not a cop out. not kidding. u guys are amazing WINNER: @sergeant-santiago​  okay okay okay let me tell u about this blog. everything from content to quality stuck out to me when I was looking through everything for the blog awards and I was just completely blown away and in awe??? this girl is perfection and if you’re not following her blog then I DO NOT UNDERSTAND WHY get ur late ass over there bc u are missing the fuck out. I can’t stress this enough!!!!  alright!!! I think we’re about there!! thank you so much (again) for 1.5k. u guys are wonderful