#i will pick those who'd respond

[shouga-nai]

“You’ll find your place in this world.”

Questions/Comments to be sent anonymously (or off anon) || Accepting!

"I like to think I have been making good progress on that. The people at Liyue Harbor have been... hospitable, for the most part. The kindness of others helps, even if it gets things complicated. Oh well, I rise to the challenge."

~~~

"Have the humans miraculously decided to share their world? — No. Until a better future is secured for all Omnics, I must keep fighting. Till the very last second."

[heathermason6060]

Daryl Dixon x F!Reader Smut: Three-hour Drive in Two

Warnings/Mentions: Smut, cursing, overstimulation,

Summary: You call Daryl over the radio and tell him you're tired of the games, and want to finally have sex. Daryl drops everything he's doing to get to you. 

Notes: The idea of Daryl wanting to have sex with someone so badly that he literally just gets on his bike and rides hours to do it????? It's just so hot????

There was the sound of creaking, shuffling, paper or boxes. You're breathing louder, and closer to the mic, he could almost feel your warm breath tickling his ear if he closed his eyes. 

“I wanna talk to you.” A soft and breathy tone, it sent a freezing chill down his spine. He knew what that sound meant. 

He raised his eyes from his fingers in his lap, glancing around the room. No one was paying him any attention. Maggie still looking out the window, Glenn still upstairs, and Michonne digging around in the kitchen.

“Yeah?” He responded, his voice coming out much lower than he intended. 

“Yeah.” You sighed, and he could hear the same creaking sound. You were in a chair, moving around, restless, he could hear that now. “As hot as this is, what we've been doing…” 

You and Daryl had been playing this game for a few months. 

It started with caught glances, red cheeks, and then all of a sudden you were showing off for each other. Subtle, but obvious to anyone who'd caught sight of it. 

You would be walking around Alexandria in those Bobbie Brooks shorts you and Daryl loved. Daryl started dressing nicer, swapping those long sleeved shirts for his older cutoff button ups, his biceps as eye-catching as a big red circle, a handful of arrows lit up with little gold neon lights, blinking and flickering ‘hey, look at me, all for you, look, please’. 

Then came the flirting. Daryl was absolutely awful at it. You seemed like a professional compared to him, with your bedroom eyes and lip biting, that sweet sly grin you'd have after teasing him. 

Daryl started with what made him hard when he'd catch you'd do it, which was staring shamelessly. He'd go out of his way to check out your ass when you'd walk in the other direction and give a simple smile when you'd look over your shoulder and catch him. 

You always looked to see if he looked, and he always did. 

“Daryl?” 

He cleared his throat, blinking away the memory of your ass in those sinful jean shorts. He turned down the volume on his radio and raised it closer to his face. “Hmm. M’here.”

“How fast do you think you can get back?” 

The question and what it alluded to had his dick twitching in his jeans. “Three hours.” He answered immediately, avoiding the curious look Maggie gave him from across the room.

“Think anyone's on this channel?” The sound of you humming was accompanied by footsteps, boots against the hardwood floor of your house. 

“Shouldn't be.” He muttered, picking up his gun and bag and making his way to the front door. 

“Everything okay?” Maggie asked, watching Daryl as she kept a lookout through the downstairs windows. They were on a supply run, going further out than usual, most places near Alexandria had been wiped clean. 

“Yeah. S'fine. Got somethin’ to take care of. How much longer y'all gonna be?” Daryl slipped his shoulder through the strap on his crossbow, his radio still clutched tightly in his other hand.

“Gonna check a few other houses down this road, then the factory.” Maggie nodded. “We'll be back before sunset.”

Daryl offered a returned nod, unable to meet her eyes, the excitement of knowing he was about to have his dick in you making him jumpy. 

He thought he was gonna have to be the one to ask, you'd always seemed so composed and patient, content with blue balling him and leaving your panties in his room. 

“Be safe.” She called out after him as he walked down the concrete pathway, and he raised a hand in acknowledgment.

“You still there?” Even though he turned down the volume he could still hear you over the sound of his heavy boots over the concrete, and he raised his radio back to his face. 

“Yeah. M’on my way.” He couldn't remember a time he'd felt so excited about something. No fear, no anxiety, no dread, just heart hammering anticipation. 

His mouth watered as he fished out the keys to his bike from his pocket. 

“Don't get a speeding ticket.” 

Daryl chuckled, and got on his bike. 

If cops were still a thing, he'd get a lot more than a ticket for the way he drove back home. He and the others took three hours to get to that town from Alexandria, and he made it back there in two. He hadn't had a ride like that since he was young, maybe back at the Greene farm or in Atlanta. He drove like he had a helmet, hell, like he had a full suit of armor, and gas was readily available at any of the gas stations he passed by. 

You were standing in your closest when he finally tried to reach you.  Standing completely still, biting your bottom lip to keep from giggling. 

“Where?” You had to turn down the volume to keep from being found. 

“You gotta find me.” You breathed, your cheeks aching from the smile on your face. He'd come through your room twice already, the second time confused, and now he was no doubt checking his room. 

“Gotta find you?” He repeated, the image of his bewildered face was easy to imagine. 

“Mhm. See if you can find me before I come.” You whispered, your smile fading the lower your hand slipped down the front of your shorts. 

“Oh, shit.” You mumbled. Your fingertips grazed against your clit, finding that you were already soaking. You hadn't touched yourself before then, but it felt like you'd been going at it for hours. 

Daryl's muffled grunt came through the radio, either annoyance or something else. Maybe hearing you make those noises was enough to get him hard. You didn't know he'd been hard off and on since he got on his bike. 

“I don't, I don't think you've got a lot of time-”

Heavy boots sounded coming up the stairs again, quicker than your racing heartbeat. The sound sent a bolt of excitement through your chest, knowing he was ready to start flipping over tables just to find you, just to touch you. 

“Warmer.” You stifled your moan, moving your fingers quicker against your clit. He paused for a second, you could hear him at the end of the hall. He walked into Michonne's bedroom and you had to fight away the laugh that threatened to give you away. 

“Cold.”

His footsteps echoed down the hall as he came back to your room once again. You held your breath and slowed your movements, watching through the cracks in the closet door. 

God, the sight of him standing in your doorway looking for you was enough to come to. He looked so… dedicated, fueled by the motivation to get you in his hands and make you regret teasing him like that.

“Hot.” Your voice was barely a whisper as you watched, your wide eyes illuminated by the daylight through the lines in the door. He walked into your room, looking under the bed, getting on his knees. 

He stood, flicking his head to get the hair from his face. 

He flipped the comforter of your bed and it almost made you giggle that he thought you could somehow be hiding under it. 

Your heart stopped when he turned his head to look at the closet door. The only other place you could be.

His boots sounded like they were weighed down with bricks as he approached the door, each step sending your heart racing faster and faster. You pulled your hands from your shorts and unbuttoned them, the sound making him let out the scoff of a man very pleased with himself. 

You turned off the radio as he slid the doors open, greeting you with a lopsided grin.

“I win.” His proclamation was almost innocent, proud of himself and eager to make his accomplishment known. 

“Yeah.” Your fingers worked to unbuckle his belt as you grinned up at him. “What happened to three hours?”

“Light traffic.” 

You laughed as he went back to shut and lock your door, turning on your speaker in the process.  He didn't want to risk anyone hearing the sounds he intended on dragging out of you, and ruining the moment. It was a sweet gesture. 

He was back in front of you in a few short seconds to continue the game of undressing each other, something that could've been done quicker if you just did it to yourselves. That would be a lot less fun. 

His hands on your face caught you off guard. Gentle fingertips graced your lips, the scent of hand soap filling your nose, and you smiled. He'd washed his fucking hands. 

“God.” You shook your head in disbelief, unzipping his pants as you slowly walked him backwards to your bed. “You're something else.”

He snorted, slipping his thumb between your lips. “Yeah?”

“Mhm. You washed your hands.” 

“Course I did.” 

He sat down on the bottom of your bed, his hands moving from your face to slide down your sides, resting at your hips. “Been wantin’ to feel you inside. Ain't gonna do that with dirt and blood on my fingers.”

You closed your eyes and sighed, from his words and the feel of said hands tugging your shorts down your thighs. “Somethin’ else.” You repeated. 

Although Daryl looked absolutely breathtaking covered in blood, you were grateful he'd been so thoughtful. UTIs in the apocalypse were no joke. 

You worked on the buttons of your shirt as he pushed his pants down, and you'd be lying if the sight of him pulling his cock out didn't make you swoon.

His hands were clean, but he still looked like he'd been through hell and back. He was sweaty, his biceps gleaming, the crevices of his muscles made darker from the dirt and whatever else he'd been rolling in out there. His hair messy and ruffled from driving god knows how fast on that motorcycle. 

The feeling of his hot breath on your bare stomach had you sniffing in surprise. You opened your eyes and looked down, letting out a soft whimper at the sight of the top of his head. He planted a kiss between your ribs, keeping his hands on your sides to keep you steady as he worked his way down your stomach, every other kiss his tongue would slip out of his lips and trace deep circles in your skin. 

You watched him bury his face in the front of your panties, nuzzling his nose against the fabric before breathing in like he was smelling flowers. You couldn't help but grin at the comparison, your fingers now in his hair and brushing the tangles out. 

“Smell-” he muttered through kisses to the fabric, “-so good.” He kissed up to the waistband, moving from the front to the side where your hip bones sat. He opened his mouth and bit down, his teeth grinding your skin between them, causing you to let out a rather loud whine of surprise. 

“C'mere.” He didn't wait for you to respond or even acknowledge him before grabbing hold of your ass in his hands, lifting you and bringing you into his lap. 

Being manhandled like that was another thing that drove you crazy. You whimpered and shifted in his lap, sucking in a sharp breath when you felt his heavy cock brushing against the crotch of your panties. 

He groaned, the sound muffled from the way he grits his teeth. He must've been caught off guard by how embarrassingly wet you were, he could feel all of it against his bare dick. Warm and wet, fabric catching and grinding on his length, he had to focus on his breathing to avoid coming right there and then. 

“Here.” He muttered, his fingers looping in the sides of your panties and urging you to maneuver your legs so he could pull them off of you. Once he did he shuddered, the breath vibrating in his chest. 

The sight of you, wet and on partial display, sitting right on his dick, it could've killed him. He pulled himself together and moved his hands between your thighs, wasting no time in touching you like he'd dreamed of for months. 

“Hmm.” He grunted, his jaw visibly flexing from how hard he was clenching down. 

You could barely keep your eyes open. It was a lot. He moved his fingers the same way they felt, rough and forceful. He tried to be smart, circling your clit, lightly pinching it, but he lost his patience fairly quickly and began moving all four of his fingers in flat circles over your entire pussy. 

“Mmmm, god.” You shuddered, grabbing onto his shoulders which felt massive under your hands. He was being sloppy and impatient, but god it felt amazing. He was enjoying touching you like this almost as much as you were receiving it. 

He looked up at you and you lost it. Seeing those eyes on your face had you gasping, trembling, your thighs trying to close around his hand but his waist prevented it. You forced yourself to look at him, your eyes flickering from his eyes, wide and attentive, doing the same thing yours were, to his parted lips. His fingers were relentless on your slippery cunt, growing more rough and fast, sliding over your clit and quickly overstimulating you. 

You tried to crawl off of him and get away from his hands, but he kept you in place with his free hand and dipped a slick finger inside you. 

“Nn-” you gasped, your hips jerking in his lap. He held you tight against him, his finger too thick and too hot, it was too much, you tossed your head back and whined like you'd been stabbed. 

“Fuck.” Daryl whispered, his eyes still on your face, filled with awe at the sight in front of him. His dick twitched under you and his hand, precum oozing from the slit in his tip. Your cheeks looked like you'd been slapped, red and hot, and tears beaded at the corners of your wet eyes, which couldn't decide if they wanted to stay closed or look back at him in something akin to horror. 

He curled his finger, a simple experiment, and the way your hips ground down against him led him to continue, his middle finger digging deeper and deeper inside you, curling and twisting until you actually begged him to stop. His thumb rubbing quick and deep circles against your clit was more intense than anything you could ever dream of doing to yourself.

“Stop, s’too much.” You slurred, pushing on his shoulders. 

“Alright, alright, shh.” He cooed, drawing his fingers from between your legs and wiping them against your trembling lips.

“Gonna,” you shivered against his chest, fighting to catch your breath. “Gonna show you what that's like.” 

He grinned and nodded. 

Once you gave him the nod to continue, he grabbed onto your waist and laid you down on your back. The cool air felt amazing against your throbbing cunt, but that relief was soon replaced by Daryl's hot mouth. 

“Oh, god, Daryl, wait.” You laughed, a mix of nervousness and excitement. If he was as sloppy and eager as he was with his fingers then you'd be in for the filthiest oral of your life. 

“Shh, c'mon.” He breathed, his breath tickling your clit. “Lemme taste.” His eyes flicked up to you and chills ran down your entire body. “Jus' a taste.”

You breathed, looking down at him over your torso. The image of him between your thighs had a tired smile spreading on your lips and you nodded, earning a wicked grin from Daryl. He was a whore for winning, that was for sure.

He lowered his mouth back on you, keeping his eyes on your face as he tried different movements. His gaze had you fucking stunlocked. You couldn't look away, couldn't close your eyes or move from your position, propped up on your elbows, watching him watch you. 

You were right, he was just as primal as he was with his fingers. He licked you like you were the inside of a chip bag, digging his tongue into every crevice and fold, determined on making you cum on his lips.

He was doing a damn good job at it. 

You groaned and took in a trembling breath. Your eyelids grew heavy and it became hard to watch him. 

“Oh my god.” You wailed weakly. Your thighs started twitching, bumping against the sides of his head. You tried to sit still, but your orgasm came and your hips took on a life of their own, bucking and grinding up against his fervid mouth. 

He grunted, grinding his own hips into the mattress. He panted as he watched you cum, having lost his breath giving you the best head of your fucking life. 

“Like the way you do that.” He crawled up your body, leaving wet kisses up your torso, giving special attention to the nipples he neglected earlier. “Never seen somethin' like that b‘fore.” 

You moaned in response, grabbing his hair. Your heart was breaking a goddamn record, it had to be, it never raced like this even when running from walkers in the woods. 

He took a nipple between his teeth, rolling and biting the same way he bit your hip. You whimpered and gasped, trying to regain your bearings, but he made it so, so hard. Especially when he tortured your nipples like he was trying to pierce them with his teeth. 

“Never thought you'd be so…” You were cut off with a yelp when your other nipple was pinched, making you suddenly extremely grateful that he didn't pinch your clit like that. 

“What?” He muttered, his teeth still clamped around your nipple, and rolled his hips against you. His bare dick pushed through your folds, quickly becoming soaked. 

You groaned, low and deep. 

“Aggressive.” You finished. 

“Wan’ me to stop?” He pulled his mouth off of you momentarily, now looking down at your poor messy face. It made him feel proud, knowing he was the reason you looked like such a mess. Hair already wild and frazzled, eyes still wet and cheeks even darker in color. 

“I can be gentle.” He drawled with a sick grin, and ground his pelvis into you again. 

Another groan dragged through your raw throat. “Nnn, no.” 

He snorted, and snaked his hand down between your bodies. 

You drew in a deep breath. You felt the tip of him drag through your folds again, just as much of a tease as his voice, up to your raw clit and your aching hole. 

Now Daryl was the one shuddering against you. You could hear his teeth grinding together as he lined himself up with you, his shoulders heaving above you, and finally, he pushed in.��

He was too rushed and too forceful, so his head just slipped back up your folds and drove against your clit. You whimpered at the sharp tingles, pulling your bottom lip into your mouth to muffle the noises.

Daryl muttered a curse and lined himself up again, learning from his mistake, and pushed in slower. 

Your body trembled. Your back arched, your jaw dropped, and your eyes rolled back into your head. It was indescribable. He was so thick and you were so sensitive, one would think all the foreplay would've made it easy for him to slip inside, but your walls pushed against him in desperate protest. You tried to relax but it was all so much, your cunt was spent and fought against you and his dick.

He won, again, and bottomed out in the first thrust. 

The sounds that left both of your mouths were ten times better than any song your stereo could play. Daryl choked on a gasp, the sweet sound melting into your name. 

You could've sobbed. You almost did, your moan bubbling against your lips, low and whiny. 

Again your name was whimpered, and you responded with a strangled whimper of your own, your fists curled around his leather vest with all the strength left in your hands. 

You could tell he was trying his best to treat you right after the torture he put you through, dragging his dick out slow and gentle, but each time he pushed back into you his exhale came out ragged and raw. 

It was funny, how you were begging him to ease up on you earlier but now you were about to beg him to fuck you until you couldn't breathe. You supposed that's what your body wanted the entire time, his mouth and fingers were amazing, but your greedy walls wanted his cock more than anything. 

“More, Daryl, please-” 

You barely got the words out before he was obliging, snapping his hips forward like he'd been waiting for your permission. The blunt force of the thrust knocked a crude moan from you. 

You got what you wanted, he started fucking you until you literally couldn't breathe. His chest had fallen against yours, and his arms slipped under your back to hold you tight against him. 

He buried his face in your neck, his teeth and lips making the skin there wet and red. It was incredibly hot how much he enjoyed biting, it was so animalistic and primal, something he didn't think too deeply into before doing it. It wasn't that he wanted to mark you, claim you, he just wanted to bite, bite, and bite. 

The way your moans changed to sobs of ecstasy sent a jolt of pleasure through his dick. With a deep growl, he pulled your hips up hard, pelvis rolling down to meet you with a swift and forceful motion, sending a surge of pleasure through your walls and lower stomach. 

You moaned something, a mix of about seven different words, your core fluttering and flipping each time he rammed his hips into you, forcing his dick as deep as possible. 

He clamped his teeth around the skin where neck meets shoulder, another way to keep you in place, as if his arms and legs weren't doing a good enough job. He'd twisted his legs around your ankles, something you couldn't picture or comprehend, but your feet were rendered immobile by his thighs and it was sexy enough for you not to question it. 

“Fuck!” He growled, slamming his pelvis into you hard, knocking the breath from your lungs. 

“God oh, hnn-Daryl!” You whimpered with your eyes squeezed shut. He was hammering into you like you were paying a goddamn debt, knocking your headboard into the wall so hard you were sure Carol or Rick would burst in with their guns drawn, thinking a walker had you fighting for your life. 

“Shit.” He choked, and came without any further warning, his hands moving from your back to grip your hips and yank you up on his cock. You cried out, wriggling your feet free from his legs to twist around his waist. 

He blurted your name into your neck, gasping and panting. He rolled his hips with quick and frantic movements, fucking his cum deep inside you. He ground down into you until his body shook, and then his muscles relaxed. 

“Turn over.” You breathed, and he did. 

He was expecting you to climb off, maybe fall down beside him and share the mutual blissful exhaustion. 

You kept his softening dick inside you as you settled on top of him, managing a weak smirk when you saw the sleepy confusion on his face.

Your hips rolled, and he whimpered.

You savored the way confusion bled to regret, his eyebrows relaxing and his lips parting. 

His hands grabbed onto your hips, wanting to hold you in place and prevent your walls from dragging up his sensitive dick, but he knew he deserved it. You told him you'd show him what it was like. 

“How's it feel, hmm.” You moved your hips back and forth in his lap, biting your lip at the many stages of guilt and pleasure that went through his sweaty face. 

He couldn't speak, so he just settled on a nod, his eyes falling closed as his throat bobbed with a dry swallow. 

You went on for another minute before you physically couldn't anymore. You gave one last roll of your hips, making sure to clench down on him, and lifted up until his dick was dragged out of you. 

“Goddamn.” He mumbled. 

It felt amazing to be empty and bare, it was enough to make you moan, your body falling to the side to lay next to him. The silence was welcome.

"Daryl?" You breathed, using the back of your hand to push your hair from your face.

"Hm?" The sound was gravelly and sleepy, he was clearly only seconds away from sleep.

"You ever drive like that again and I'll tell Carol."

"Not my fault ya' decided ya' wanted to fuck me now."

@ophelialaufey @carlgrimesgfofficial @theskinniestjackson-denny @dilfish-daydreams @my1fx @jinx-nanami

[kedreeva]

Okay so, I don't think I've spoken of the saga here yet but! Gather round. I shall tell you a long story about the bird I just acquired and why she is VERY IMPORTANT.

At the beginning of last fall, I started looking into quail genetics a little more, because I got tired of not being able to sex my Celadon quail by their feathers. Originally I thought I could kill 2 birds (ok maybe more) with 1 stone and order nice jumbo wild type (which MANY places advertised as wild type jumbo) hatching eggs, and this would help me put some size on the Celadons (jumbo) while also making them feather sexable (wild type). Perfect!

But then I come to find out that pretty much all jumbo lines are jumbo BROWNS, as in they all have the sex linked brown (SLB) gene. So, I was a little confused and a LOT annoyed because I wanted to work specifically with the wild type color/pattern. No mutations just straight, plain wild type.

And EVERYWHERE I looked - major production hatcheries, private breeders through websites, Facebook groups, local swaps, craigslist, e v e r y w h e r e -

People ONLY had SLB.

This spring I came across a video showing about the differences between SLB and wild type and I figured if the person who made it can tell, maybe she will have some. So I looked her up (not in a stalker way, her farm name was stamped on the video and took me to the website), and what luck! She was in Michigan! Upper Michigan, so still a hike, but not California, y'know?

So I shot her an email and explained that I was looking for WT and that her site said she bred them and that people could do local pickup. She responded yeah she's totally got a bunch! And I said great, I'm also in Michigan, albeit far away, but I don't mind driving 7+ hours each way, because I really need actual, trusted WT for sure birds for my celadon project, can I come pick them up?

Cue the most frankly bizarre email chain in my short life. As soon as I mentioned that I was going to drive, or perhaps that I had a genetics plan in place, she got super sketchy and started saying how she hadn't really paid as close attention to SLB vs. WT, that it mattered less than she thought it would when she started, that I shouldn't focus on that either, and also that "fawn celadon is practically unheard of" in the hobby and "you should focus on a clean Tibetan because it's hard to find without roux in it) implying that I should concentrate on those things instead. And concluded by telling me if I really want WT, to contact this other person (why happens to be someone I can't stand). It all sounded VERY much like she didn't have wild type males, after all, and had thought I didn't know the difference so it wouldn't actually matter. But, it does. It actually matters a lot to me.

So I messaged back to say, well, I don't want to do any of those things, I specifically want to work with this set of genetics and you said you have them so I shouldn't have to go to anyone else??

And then she went radio silent for a week. I kind of figured I'd called a bluff, and that she was one of dozens of people I'd contacted who'd said they had WT only to find out they had SLB. I get that it's difficult to see the difference, but this particular person was the president of the American Coturnix Breeders Association or whatever (found out it's actually just a club formed by her and her friends a year ago, so not as impressive as it sounds, considering they don't actually DO anything- no putting on shows, no newsletters, no certifications, no public breeder directory, no finished SOP, nada), so I kind of expected she should know what she's talking about, if anyone does.

Eventually, after a week, she responded that she had been judging at a county fair, but she had a few heterozygous males (WT het roux, which is fine) and she could set a hatch for me for more if I wanted to come at the end of the month, but she's in WI now, not MI. I said sure, since where she was in WI was actually closer than where she'd been in the UP, and we arranged date/time.

The day of, my neighbor friend, Jude, comes with me for company/keeping me awake through the 15 hours driving round trip. It's a pleasant enough drive. We arrived at a cutesy little house on the edge of town that looks like anyone's house in a neighborhood, with a spacious lawn. The person meets us and takes me around the side of the house to a 6x6x1.5 or so chicken tractor, where she's got some male coturnix. She pulls the available males for me to look through and... fam, they ALL looked SLB, to me.

Now, she swore to me up and down that they couldn't be anything except WT het for roux, because of the way she is breeding them. But I've put these birds next to my SLB males and if I didn't have my males banded, I would not ever have told the difference between them. I still picked up 4 of them, because I will give it a go- worst case, I can produce plain Roux hens/plain Roux males for use in breeding later, best case they do actually produce WT hens and they just LOOK SLB and I have to figure out what the differences are. I don't want to leave without seeing her hens, which she has told me are all WT (which is why the males HAVE to be het for it), and she takes me back. Now the hens, the hens are easy to see the difference. White bellies first of all, but the chest feathers are also wildly different! The shafts are white, the dot around the shaft is dark, ringed in red, ringed in white. On an SLB, the shafts aren't white, it's just a black dot surrounded in a red feather, and the belly is all red/buff/cream, not white.

This is what an SLB hen looks like:

So I take a nice long look to memorize the color, and thank her for showing me and meeting, and we head back home.

I do fecals when I get home because all of the males are VERY thin, no meat on them at all, and since she said she'd been feeding Purina (garbage for fowl feeds), I figured that was why, but no- HUGE coccidia loads in all of them. So I treated them and got them on a better feed. They immediately began putting on meat, and they're find now.

The rest of this summer, I have spent going to local bird swaps and inspecting all of the quail I could find, hoping to find one (1) actual wild-type phenotype bird. Hundreds and hundreds of birds, I have pawed through them all, being super obnoxious to the owners I'm sure, holding and inspecting males. I found ONE suspected WT male (and this is a HUGE "suspected," he could very well be SLB with low red expression). I compared him when I got home and I'm doubting myself still, so I don't know if I will ever actually pair him with the SLB hens or if I'll just wait til I have a roux set.

Regardless, it's been a dry season for getting what I want. It's been a dry YEAR. Yesterday was another swap and more hundreds of quail and me pawing through all of them.

Until.

My eyes landed upon.... her.

If you've only lived in an area that has american crows and not ravens, you find yourself wondering if crows are ravens. You see a big crow and you think wow! maybe that is a raven! It could be a crow, but it's seems bigger so maybe it's a raven. But, if you take a trip to a place with ravens, and you see one for the first time, you realize that there is no question, when you see a raven. When you see a raven in person, there's no question and not only is there no question, you wonder how you could ever have thought a crow was a raven. It's laughable, while looking at the raven.

That's how finding this bird felt. I'd been picking up every SLB hen and going maybe this is actually WT? It could be SLB but maybe it's WT? But the second I laid eyes on her in the middle of a pack of SLB with some mixed colors, I knew I was looking at WT hen, and I can't imagine how I ever thought maybe an SLB hen was WT.

Here's a better photo of her chest and belly (she's beat UP from her previous home, the back of her head and most of her rump are plucked clean from males). You can see the white shafts and the white belly.

And some other pics of her, showing the grey-brown on her side and back- VERY different than the SLB hens

I can't express how stoked I am about this bird. This is the first time after a LOT of effort and time, that I have felt confident I am holding the bird I want.

She's also the indicator that I have a LOT of work ahead of me.

My end goal is to have birds that look like her, weigh 12-14oz, and lay large, blue eggs. I have birds that lay large, blue eggs, I have birds that weigh 12-14oz live weigh, and now I have at least 1 bird that looks like her, which means I can make more that look like her. The first step is cleaning the color mutations out of the celadon line without losing the celadon eggs. This is going to be a bit of a nightmare, BUT, I have a friend helping me out with getting a few celadons that are either WT or SLB (I'm guessing SLB all things considered) to start the work with. I will work over the winter to get a few more actual WT birds here, and to start crossing out the celadons with the SLB jumbos to clean out the other feather color mutations. Once I'm down to just SLB and celadon for mutations, I can clean the SLB out with the WT and roux lines.

This project will likely take me a good 2 years, maybe 3, to complete and then test breed to ensure I haven't lost the celadon gene and I don't have any hidden recessives lingering about. But just having the fucking materials to do it all on hand now is a huge step forward from where I was when I decided to start the project.

[adancingalien]

𝕯𝖊𝖘𝖕𝖊𝖗𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓

Benjicot/Davos Blackwood x bracken!reader

summary: after learning of your impending betrothal to another, you and Benji make a plan to stop it

warning: smut 18+ no use of y/n this fic revolves around pregnancy and has some light breeding kinks towards the end. the reader in this is able to get pregnant and is described as a woman.

word count: 3.9k

note: its finally here! i've really enjoyed writing this fic, its been a while since written one and i've never written smut so if its not the best sorry lol. thank you for everyone's support! i hope you guys like it <3 next time I post it will be on this account @dancingaliensfics so if you like this follow that account. also a couple people asked me to tag them so here you go x @alifeinspiredd @gotranting

It's Early in the morning when your father gives you the news. The sun had risen only an hour prior, the days growing short as winter approached, and your mother sat across from you. 

Marriage.

You spend some time considering the thought whilst eating your porridge. In any other case, it would have been good news. The list your father had created so far was filled with well-suited men. You recognised some, two Bracken cousins you knew well, a Mallister boy you’d met at a tourney. They were all reasonable ages, only one was older than thirty and he seemed to be an afterthought. Your father assured you that he'd consider your opinion in his choice. 

Truthly you were lucky, if it was a year earlier you'd be excited. But the one name you wanted, the only man you would ever consider marrying, wasn't on the list and never would be.

Benjicot Blackwood.

Heir to Raventree Hall, the seat of your enemy house, the man who'd captured your heart 10 moons ago.

And so you sit in silence, eyes distant, as your father speaks to you of balls and meetings and gifts. Your mother watches you quietly, although what goes through her mind you cannot say. Eventually, the conversation fades to noise as you watch the last streaks of pink fade from the sky. 

You meet with Benjicot in the same spot you always do. A field of clover and wildflowers, sheltered from the gaze of Stone Hedge by a small patch of woodland. He brings you a bouquet of dandelions, dittander and hedge bindweed he picked himself along the path. Every time you meet he brings you one and each time he hands it to you with that grin before hiding his face in your neck. You love it, and after all this time you still feel your heart flutter at the sight, no matter how torn and pathetic the blooms themselves usually are. 

Gods, you love him. And you're certain you'll never love anyone else the same. Still, you hope he hasn't found the bindweed from near your gardens, it's beautiful but so quickly consumes all other plants.

He flops onto the grass and then beckons for you to do the same. Benji wraps his arms around your side and you lean your head on his chest as he begins to tell you about some skirmish at the hedge stones.

“Those Brackens think they can do whatever they please whenever they choose. You’d think they'd have learnt their lesson after the beating we gave them last time.”

As he speaks you pluck at blades of grass beside you, tearing the seeds from the stem. He often forgets your heritage, as you do his, and the reminder makes you anxious.

“Still,” you mutter, “I wish you wouldn't rush so quickly into battle.”

Benji turns his head to look down at you and you feel his breath on your face. He pauses for a few moments, watching you closely before responding.

“You needn't worry, dove, I can hold my own, especially against some Bracken bastards.” His words are harsh and said with a grin but you can feel the sentiment behind them. Still, his answer doesn't satisfy you.

“You're not the only person I stand to lose in a battle.”

The two of you tend to speak little of the different sides you sit on, choosing instead to focus on your shared qualities. But since your father's announcement that morning, you find your heritage is all you can think of.

His hands tighten on your side and he begins to shift in the way he often does when unsettled. “Tell your bracken brethren to stay on their side of the lines then.”

“Yes because it is such a simple thing, to announce our ties to my whole family!” You turn from him with a huff pulling hard on the piece of grass in your grasp. You regret your words immediately but find yourself unwilling to apologise.

Benji pulls his brows tight, running his fingers over the hem of your skirt. He looks like a scolded dog, his face sullen and eyes moving quickly.

“I’m sorry.” He looks at you softly for a moment. “Will you tell me what's bothering you love? You've been down all day.”

You pause for a while, having pulled away all the grass in your little patch, leaving your fingernails stained green.

“My father gave me news.” You lift your head to look at Benji, his eyes watching you closely. “He's finding me a husband.”

“No.” The response comes quickly and with strong conviction.

Baffled by his response, your brows furrow. “What do you mean no?”

“I simply won't let it happen. You're mine and I'm yours and we were destined to be together, I know it. You will not be with anyone else.”

You pull a pained face, turning away from him. How can he say that with such certainty? That he simply won't let your father marry you off as though it's such a simple thing. It's both endearing and irritating.

“It's not so simple you know.” You look out at the setting sun as you speak, “I've been trying to think of ways to avoid it but truthfully, I have nothing to complain about. What can I say to stop it? I've spent so long thinking of options but nothing seems right.”

Benji takes hold of your hands, gazing at you with such intensity it catches you off guard.

“We'll run away together, you and me, right now.”

Your eyes widen and you stumble on your thoughts. What an idea. It's a pleasant thought really and part of you is compelled to accept, to leap up and run away with Benji in that moment. But it is not this part of you that speaks.

“What- Benji- I cannot, we cannot! Where would we even go.”

“Essos, the free cities, the North, gods I'd go to the Iron Islands if it meant I could marry you. Anywhere in the world where the names bracken and blackwood mean nothing.” your heart skips at the thought, that Benjicot Blackwood would abandon his title and land and family to be with you. Travel to an unknown land and begin again. It's a feeling that quickly spreads through your body leaving you warm and filled with a joy so strong it again compels you to accept and leave in that moment.

You run your fingers over his knuckles, feeling the healed cuts and scrapes that cover them. You consider your own family, of your mother, sat at her window, waiting for you to return home. Your father, sending out his men to fruitlessly search across all of Westeros for his beloved daughter. 

“I can't Benji.”

“Then we'll go in a few days instead, you can pack your things, and I'll think of a plan of where to go-”

“No Benji.” you look into his eyes. You see in them a future and a path you cannot take at this moment. “I couldn't do that to my family, couldn't leave them forever and you couldn't either. It would break your mother's heart.”

Your words sour his mood and he visibly shrinks. You take his hands fully in your own and reach over to kiss him softly on the cheek. You can feel slight stubble and realise he must have rushed out after receiving your letter. How you love this man. 

It isn’t long before you see a new thought arrive in his mind and it's clear he does no further thinking before sharing it.

“I'll just take you then!”

Truthly, your expectations were not high but you still find yourself floored by the stupidity of his ‘plan’.

“What.” You can simply find no other words.

Benji turns to face you fully, squeezing your hands tightly. He has a crazed look on his face and you wonder if this is what your Bracken brethren see on the battlefield. 

“Listen, I’ll simply take you with me to Raventree Hall and we will wed there.” He must notice your unimpressed look as he quickly continues. “That way you don't have to go too far and your family will know you're safe. Sure it'll take some time for those Bracken curs to accept it but eventually they'll have to and then you can see them when you please.”

“Safe? Benji, you've come up with some terrible ideas but this is a new level. It would be war! You really believe that my father, that any bracken would simply accept a blackwood taking their daughter in the night?”

“Then war it would be. I'd kill a thousand men to keep you.”

“A thousand of my men, my blood! Yes, what a beautiful honeymoon it would be, setting the funeral piers of my family.”

He falls silent at this and looks down at his hands. You can see him thinking but he has the sense to keep his thoughts to himself. After a few minutes, you sigh and take his hands back in yours, having dropped them at some point during your rant. Leaning over, you capture his lips in your own for just a moment and when you pull away he follows after you.

“Just… leave it to me. I shall think of a plan for us. We can keep yours as a last resort, yes?”

He brightens at this, happy to trust in your judgement. He agrees quickly before closing the small space between you.

It's a week later when you send a raven summoning Benji. As a child, you had discovered passages within Stone Hedge which had long been forgotten and often used them to pass in and out of the castle. Now you and Benji used them to visit each other in secret. It's a few days before he is able to make his way to Stone Hedge, having been corralled by his father into some dull political nonsense you couldn't care less about. By the time he makes it to you, slipping into your chambers using the passage hidden behind large tapestries, you feel truly desperate for him.

It's overwhelming really, how much you love him. Your entire body aches for him, your mind thinks of him at all times. The thought of marrying another leaves you ill and to imagine laying with a man that isn't Benji is truly mad. He knows you in ways no other has, and, if you get your way, never will. So really it's not a surprise that upon seeing you waste no time in pressing yourself to him. As your lips meet you can feel all the stress of the past days leave your mind and you quickly forget what it was you summoned him for. It seems Benji has found himself in a similar position to you as his hands begin to explore your body through your evening gown. His soft touch turns rough as you run your fingers through the coarse strands of his hair. 

You pull away, moving toward to settee. He trails after, lounging next to you with his around your shoulders, fingers toying with your hair.

“I’ve had much time to think,” you say hands resting on your lap. “And I believe I've thought of a solution. It’s mad truly, but it is the best chance we have. I am certain I want it but if you do not you must say and that will be final. It is not a decision to take lightly.”

At your serious tone, Benji straightens and looks at you fully. You are nervous, such a proposal is hardly made easily and yet you feel certain in your bones that he will accept. You know he loves you, there is no doubt about it. You only wonder if he is truly ready for a life together.

“I would do anything to be with you, dove. Tell me and it'll be done.”

You sigh at his words, both from frustration and adoration. 

“Do not say such things before you hear the proposal.”

“Then tell me it so that I may say them with informed certainty.”

You look him in the eyes then, struggling to find a way to say what you mean.

“I would have your child.”

Benji pauses at this, and you can see confusion in his eyes before he speaks.

“Yes. when we wed we shall have many children, as many as you wish.”

“No Benji,” you squeeze his hands tightly and push yourself to speak. “My father will never choose you as my husband so we must give him no choice. If I was with child, with your child, he would have to accept a marriage or risk shame upon myself and our house. I know my father well and I am sure he would choose my happiness over tradition.”

At this, Benjicot stops and his face falls blank. It's as if his mind is —- and you wait patiently for his response.

“It is…” he stops and then restarts “I would love nothing more than to have a child with you. It is something I have dreamt of and I truly believe myself ready for such responsibility. I do not doubt the longevity of my love for you. So please do not think it is commitment with gives me pause. It is just…” he begins to play with your fingers, nervous energy flowing through him. He stands quickly, releasing your hands though you are used to his restlessness and simply wait for him to return. He paces in a small circle, running his hand through his hair and then returns to his seat. 

“I would not do that to you,” he says finally. You look at him in surprise, his answer seeming nonsensical to you.

“You have done it to me many times.”

“No not that,” he says quickly, covering his face in his hands as he thinks again how to phrase what he means.

“I wouldn't put you through such treatment! As an unwed woman to father a child by you. No, I couldn't dishonour you like that.”

“Dishonour me? Benji, you have dishonoured me more times than I could count. By simply being here in this room you dishonour me. We have laid together, many times. If this was a concern of yours, you should have voiced it long ago.” your words are tinged with amusement.

Benjicot stands again, moving his arms wildly. 

“And what of how you would be treated? Not just by your parents but every member of the court, the servants, anyone who knew of it. You would be shamed and shunned by others.”

“You think I care what others say of me?”

“I think you will care when it happens.”

“Do not make assumptions on my behalf. I am my own woman, I can make my own choices. And I do not need you, Benjicot Blackwood, to decide such things for me.” 

You pause, breathing deeply in an attempt to remove the heat from your voice. It isn’t your intention to force Benji to do this with you and you fear if you continue to argue your meaning will be lost.

“If your reasons to not go forth are your own, because you do not feel ready or because you do not want to, then that is fine and I will accept it.”

Your attempt to calm the situation backfires miserably and your words light a fire inside of Benji.

“Of course not, didn’t say I would marry you in that field? That I would give up everything to be with you. Do not doubt my love.”

“I do not doubt it, Benji. But if you are willing to give up your titles and home, go through battle and fight hundreds to have me, why can't you trust that I would endure the shame of a pregnancy outside of wedlock for you?”

At last, Benji returns to his spot next to you. He looks into the fire but his gaze is distant.

“I can protect you from danger, from enemies. I can kill any man that threatens you. I can stand with you in fire and pain. But I can’t save you from cruel words and shame. This is… it's something you’ll have to bear alone. And I hate the thought of it.”

At last, you understand his meaning. Benjicot Blackwood is not a man who often loses control. He is fierce and strong and can slay any man who comes in his path. 

“I am strong. And I can protect myself, just this once. And you will be stood with, at my side, to give me strength when I fail.”

“I know, I just fear you aren’t ready.”

“I am ready.”

A coy smile spreads across your face.

“Let me convince you.” 

At that you kiss him, one hand placed on his cheek and the other on his chest. He quickly reciprocates and you move closer until you can throw one leg over his lap. His hands find your hair, attempting to undo your intricate braids before pulling away in frustration and glaring at the strands. You laugh lightly, moving to remove your pins as he reaches for your neck, leaving a firm bite before his tongue lathes over the area. His ministrations pull a soft moan from your mouth and as he lifts your skirts to run his hand up the soft skin of your thigh, your hair is released.

His other hand quickly finds its way into your hair, fingers weaving into the strands before your head is pulled back allowing better access to your neck. As Benji continues trailing kisses across your neck and chest, you begin to move yourself on his lap, grinding against him as you feel his cock harden beneath his breeches. How you long to feel him inside you, and the thought of him staying even as he reached his peak, seed spilling inside you, has you moving with increased vigour. Benji begins to let out his quiet groans and pants to match your soft moaning and it's not long before he has your behind held firmly in his grip. 

His mouth reaches the neckline of your dresses and begins to suck marks onto your skin while you fumble with the fastening of your gown. Once the bodice is undone and the stays are loosened, he pulls them down, taking your breasts into his hands. His mouth quickly latches onto one of your peaks and his tongue swirls around them. He shows you no mercy in his actions, hands pressing so tight they are sure to leave bruises. Benji moves his hand to your core, fingers covering themselves in your wetness before pressing against your clit. They move quickly, circling your bud for some time before travelling towards your hole. His thumb moves to take its place, pressing firmly against you as it rubs. His fingers prod gently at your hole, before one slips inside. He stays like this, easing his finger inside of you until you're ready to take another. His fingers move inside of you for a few minutes, your walls clenching around them as they stroke, before they increase in speed, beginning to curl deep inside of you. Benji continues to assault your chest, relishing in the moans and whines he pulls from your lips. 

It isn't long, however, before he pulls away from your chest to speak.

“I need you, my love.” he lifts your chin so that your eyes meet. You lean forward and kiss him, giving your answer through your actions. He removes his fingers from you, wiping them on your dress much to your disgust before standing, holding you with his hands beneath your ass and your legs around his waist.

 He moves quickly towards the bed and, though he's strong, you can see him focusing on not dropping you. You take the chance to join your lips to his neck, leaving your marks there. Although you know him to be faithful to you, you can’t stand the thought of any Blackwood whore making a pass at him and the hickeys serve to claim him as yours. Gods, you think, you must stop thinking in such ways, you’ll be a Blackwood yourself soon. The thought leaves you giddy and you grin at his neck. Benji drops you rather unceremoniously onto the bed before staring at you with a bemused look on his face.

“What you grinning about him?”

“Just the thought that I will soon be your wife.”

His grin widens at that and he leans down to capture your lips once again. 

“Yes, my wife and I'll be your husband.”

You kiss him again, biting his lip and tugging on it slightly.

“All mine.” your words pull a deep moan from him.

It isn’t long before both of you have stripped completely and you find yourself lying back on the sheets, Benji between your legs. He moves quickly above you, rubbing his cock against your folds, the head catching perfectly on your clit with every stroke. You moan wantonly, fingers reaching up to pull Benji towards your lips by the hair. Your firm grip causes him to groan deeply into your mouth and his movements increase in speed. It isn't long though before you pull away.

“Benji, darling, I need you inside of me please.”

You're expecting him to tease you, and make a joke about your begging and neediness but instead, he lets out a long breath, before reaching down and taking himself in hand. He runs the tip of his cock along your wetness once more before pressing inside of you. Your body accepts him eagerly and it isn't long before he fills you. How could you ever marry another when even your body is moulded perfectly to him? The sounds of your pleasure harmonise as Benji begins to move inside of you. His thrusts are fast and deep as always, his hips snapping against yours with every thrust. You feel your mind slipping as your sounds increase in volume. Your hands roam his whole body. Filthy words spill from your lips.

“Benji please my love- ah- I must have you. Please”

“You have me sweet one, you have me.”

You pull roughly on his hair at his words.

“No I must have all of you, please I need your seed. I want you to cum inside me.”

His hips stutter before his thrusts continue with increased fervour.

“Fill me please Benji, it will feel so good.”

Benji lays his head in the crook of your neck moaning without restraint. You feel yourself reaching your peak quickly and want him to cum with you. You lift your legs and wrap them tightly around his waist, moaning, turning to shrieks.

“I love you so much Benji,” you cry out, fingernails leaving scratches down his back. “I love you and I want your baby, please cum inside me.”

At your words, Benji lets out a choked sound, hips pressing firm against you, and feels the warmth of his release spill inside of you, pulling you to your peak alongside him. Your eyes squeeze shut, but if they hadn’t you would have seen the most delightful look on Benji’s face and he finished inside of you. It takes some time for his cock to stop twitching and even longer for the both of you to come back to the world of the living. Benji begins to lift himself off of you, but you tighten your legs.

“Stay.”

A simple command that he follows without question.

[allfearstofallto]

What would yandere diluc or Ayato reaction towards the reader end up pregnant, yandere ayato strikes me as a yandere that baby traps the reader

SO!

This isn't exactly what you were asking for, but I was writing some headcanons of Yanderes with their children, and I don't think I'm going to finish all of them.

But Diluc and Ayato both definitely baby trap, Childe is kinda on the fence about it, and Scaramouche won't do something like that, but if you wind up pregnant he won't be upset.

Anyways! Diluc and his daughter

Yandere! Diluc x Fem! Reader

Forced Marriage AU

TW: Yandere themes, baby trapping, mentions of pregnancy, angst

Diluc & Amelia 

Where Diluc went, so did she. Full cheeks and big eyes, she looked at the world like it was new to her. Because it was, and he wanted to show her it all. Diluc's little helper, the young lady of the house, she was known by many names, but more often than not, she was called daddy's girl. A name she responded to with an open mouth smile and a giggle.

But where was her mother, people would question. Diluc's already quiet wife hadn't been seen since her extraverted daughter was born. Those who caught glimpses of you noticed anger in your eyes and a lack of maternal love for the girl who'd cling to the hem of your dress, begging for your affection. At most, you'd turn and walk away from the girl, leaving her deflated, begging for your return. At your worst, you'd pick her up by the arm, taking her and dropping her into Diluc's lap rather harshly.

“Why do I have to keep telling you to keep it away from me?” you spat at him, not bothering to look at the big eyed face of the girl who was tearfully grasping at the jacket of her father. 

He'd coax little Amelia, wiping tears from little Amelia's cheeks and pushing her sobs, “I told you, you mustn't bother your mother,” even the way he scolded her was gentle. She nodded her head in understanding, mumbling out an apology to both Diluc and you. 

Once out of their sight, you'd cry too, you couldn't stop the tears that ran down your cheeks. She was sweet. With your hair color and Diluc's eyes, most specifically, the fact that she'd gotten your nose as well. Sweetness, you'd call her. Although, never to her face.

If you knew anything about Diluc, you knew he'd do anything to be closer to you. Making you have a child in the first place was one for the ways. His contraception not working meant that you were swollen with his spawn, meaning he'd have no choice but to dote on you for your entire pregnancy, much to your dismay.

The look of excitement on his face, the look of love in his eyes as held her, it made you sick. It disgusted you even. To the point where you were willing to isolate yourself. From him. And from her. A loving mother you wouldn't be. Not as long as her father was the despicable man that he was.

[stormz369]

☕💖 Can I Get Your Number? ☕💖 Ch. 2

Jason Todd x Chubby! Reader (fem)

A/N: Wow, I was not expecting that kind of reaction! Thank you to everyone who's interacted with chapter 1; I've had a rough week and you all made my day! I wasn't planning on posting chapter 2 until I was a bit further along with ch 3, but I just can't find it in me to say no to ya'll!

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

written with a female reader in mind, first person pov, no use of Y/N, hurt (no comfort) (yet), will probably get NSFW later, let me know if there's anything else I should tag this with!

warnings (chapter specific): chapter includes a brief scene of attempted assault (which will be labeled for those who'd rather skip it) angst, gun violence, some negative self-talk

words: 1.8k

Jason's first call came at exactly 2:05pm the next day. When I picked up I was immediately greeted by his voice seemingly from the other side of a very large room; “seriously, guys! I'll call, I'll call!”

“Too late!” Dick shouted, clearly holding the phone. “Hello! This is Dick, calling on behalf of my idiot brother, Jason! We met at the cafe yesterday?”

I could hear Jason shouting at someone, but it was muffled like he was under something. “Right … So are you going to put Jason on, or…?”

“Well, Jaybird is under the impression that calling a girl the next day is ‘desperate’ and ‘off-putting’, so we've taken up a poll at the house, and surprise surprise; we need a tiebreaker. Your thoughts?”

Before I could respond I heard muffled grunting; someone in the background shouted “no! Get him!” which was immediately followed by a yelp from Dick as Jason growled a bit;

“Give me that!” A door slammed, and all the other voices were gone, replaced by Jason's gentle, almost shy voice; “... Um … hi … still think this is normal sibling behavior?”

I giggled; “... Starting to veer away from normal now. But it's sweet, they obviously really care about you. And for the record - you can call the poll on the side of ‘it’s not desperate or off-putting'; I gave you my phone number, surely I expected you to use it, right?”

“... O- oh, yeah I guess that makes sense … So yeah, I'm using it. … Hi.”

“Hi~”

After that, I spoke to Jason in some capacity or another most every day. Turned out he was a night owl too. Apparently he worked most nights, so, after I assured him that a text wouldn't wake me, he started preemptively sending me a good morning text around 3 or 4am, so it was the first thing I saw when I woke up.

I loved how he could go off on an impassioned tangent; getting him all worked up over literature was especially cute. He did have a tendency to backpedal after a particularly passionate rant, no matter how many times I pointed out that I liked hearing him so excited. We also kept trying to arrange a day to get together, preferably without his brothers hovering this time, but his work schedule was so hectic that we kept having to postpone.

It seemed a bit unlikely, but I started to wonder if I had been right in the first place; that it was all some really elaborate prank. It certainly wouldn't be the first time an attractive man had played with my heart like that, though it would be the first time one had bought me anything before pulling the rug out from under me… 

Nearly a month into our texting relationship, Jason went radio silent for several days. No warning, just gone. I didn't want to be clingy, but I was a bit worried. He had been so attentive until this, what if something was wrong and I was out here thinking the worst about him?

On day 5 without a response I picked up a late shift at work, hoping to distract myself from the whole thing. It didn't work though, and I ended up trudging home at 2am blasting loud, angry music through my headphones. I was frustrated, and confused, and careless. I didn't notice the man behind me until his hand was around my wrist.

 ❌❌❌ -skip point- ❌❌❌

The world moved in slow motion as I was pulled into the alley. The man's mouth was moving, but I just heard a staticy ring. I tasted copper, and everything was too dark. Things didn't snap back into focus until I felt the rough brick slam against my back and I screamed, shoving against him.

All at once, everything was moving too fast; he was grabbing, I was punching and kicking, my voice was cracking. A second felt like an eternity, I couldn't even hazard a guess how long the fight actually took. But all at once it ended; with a loud, sharp sound that left me frozen in place and my ears ringing, the man collapsed in front of me. Red bloomed across his unmoving chest, and all I could do was stare.

❌❌❌ -end skip point- ❌❌❌

Large, leather clad hands gently touched my shoulders, bringing me back into my body. I slowly looked up, blinking. I immediately recognized the masked man who had come to my aid; Red Hood had made quite the name for himself in his time as a mob boss. I heard something droning on, but couldn't focus on any specific details over the sound of my own heartbeat still pounding in my ears. It took him gingerly sliding my headphones off for me to realize the noise I was hearing was just the next song on my angry playlist.

“Miss? Can you hear me now?” there was an electric quality to his voice. I vaguely wondered why more Masks didn't use voice modulators; it seemed more practical than the standard vigilante eye coverings… 

I slowly nodded. “... Y- … yeah?”

The red helmet nodded once, “did he hurt you?”

I looked down at myself, frowning a bit. My shirt was grimed up from the struggle, and I could feel the cold night air on the back of my thighs; my pants had ripped when I tried to kick the man off me. A shaky breath turned into a sob as I gasped, looking up again.

A million thoughts ran through my head at once. I wanted to scream, to curse, anything! But all I managed was a whimpered; “... Th- these were my favorite pants …”

“... Well, your boyfriend will just have to get you a new pair. Let … let me get you home, yeah?” I flinched as he reached toward me again, a gloved finger gently wiping away my tears. He offered me his hand, easing me out of the alley like a frightened stray cat.

I followed without complaint, turning my music off. “... No boyfriend …”

“A friend then? Someone who'll take care of you.” Red Hood led me to a motorcycle. He unzipped a bag on the back, and held out a red flannel shirt.

A watery giggle slipped out of my mouth and I shakily took it, tying it around my waist. “... I don't even know anymore…” 

“Don't know?”

“Well, I was talking to a guy, but … I think he ghosted me.”

“No!” I jumped at the sudden volume and insistent tone, looking up at him awkwardly.

“... No?”

“I … I just mean … a pretty girl like you's not gonna get ghosted. If he hasn't texted back in a few days there's gotta be a reason.”

I looked away, squirming awkwardly. Did an ex-crime lord turned vigilante really just call me pretty? “... Y- … I … what?”

He was silent for a long moment. I got the distinct impression that he was staring at me, but with the helmet on it was hard to tell. “... We should get you home.”

Next thing I knew, I was holding Red Hood's helmet. I hesitantly looked up as he turned, catching just a glimpse of one of those domino masks the other local vigilantes wore. He moved his bag and swung one leg over the seat of his bike, turning back to stare at me expectantly. The prospect of letting the Red Hood know where I lived didn't seem like the smartest idea, but I was definitely not going to walk home alone after all that. So I slid the helmet on and carefully climbed behind him, placing my feet where he indicated. As I arranged the flannel between my bare thighs and the seat it occurred to me how unexpectedly kind it was of him to offer it. I knew he had been spotted working with the Bats lately, but just because they had accepted him didn’t mean he was a boy scout all of a sudden...

Of course, now that I was on his bike I was faced with the rather pressing concern of where to put my hands. I didn’t exactly have handle bars, and I doubted he was going to drive slow enough that I could stay upright; I would have to lean against him. I took a deep, steadying breath, and placed my hands on his shoulders. Hood froze a bit, and after a moment he reached behind himself to grasp my elbows. He gently pulled me to wrap my arms around his waist.

 “It's actually safest this way. Interlock your fingers, and lean with me on turns.” His voice was so much nicer without the helmet distorting it, even if he was doing a truly terrible Batman impression. 

“... O- ok…” I clung to him, feeling my entire body heat up. I wasn't sure how much of that was because I was blushing and how much was because the Red Hood was apparently a living space heater, but either way I was glad he couldn't see my face. I told him how to get to my apartment, and we sped off.

The roar of the engine and the wind whipping past mercifully drowned out anything we could have hoped to say to each other. I shut my eyes just for a moment, trying not to cry again, and suddenly Hood’s hand was trapping mine against his stomach. “... Hey, this it?”

I jolted slightly, looking up at the familiar building. I nodded, slowly extracted myself from his grip, and slid back onto solid ground. He held a hand up to stop me as I started to remove the borrowed flannel.

“Keep it.”

I blinked slowly, having trouble processing what he said. “... But … it’s your shirt … how will I give it back to you?”

He chuckled softly; “it’s just a shirt.”

I didn’t have the energy to argue the matter any further. I slipped his helmet off, holding it out to him.

“Thank you … I can't believe I let this happen…”

He frowned deeply at that, and his voice shifted a bit from a fake-Batman voice into an actually deep, grumpy tone; “you didn't let anything happen.”

“I'm usually so much more observant, if I had just been paying attention…”

“He would have changed tactics. You did nothing wrong. I don't want you thinking otherwise, got it?”

I sniffled softly, looking down at my shoes. “... I … God, I didn't even have my keys in my hand… I was taught better…”

“And I was taught not to kill. Shit happens.”

I blinked a bit, unable to stop the laugh that bubbled up. “… I … I guess so. … Th- Thank you … for everything.”

He nodded once before putting his helmet back on. Before I could step away, he reached out to touch my hand again. “Hey. You did everything right, ok? You drew attention, and you kept him off until I got there. You have nothing to be ashamed of. Got it?”

I nodded slowly, stepping back a bit. “… ok.”

“Good. Now, get inside.” He waited there, watching me. Only after the building's front door was closed and locked did I hear his motorcycle speed away.

Next ->

Divider by: @saradika

Taglist: @jawdropforkpop

(If you would like to be added to the taglist feel free to let me know!)

[lacunazai]

I get that tbh so let me give you this:

Drunk and clingy Chuuya who won't let anyone touch him besides his beloved <3

oh drunk clingy chuuya my roman empire ( while writing this I realised gradually that i was not at all prepared to write this evening. oops. ) (( it's fine the post won't get far I think ))

it's just a port mafia party, some celebratory banquet for completing a rather large tradeoff mission. of course chuuya is the one that cracks open the fanciest bottle. the one with a few too many digits and zeros for any normal person to glance twice at. but he's always been an extravagant guy, and the more expensive it tastes the better quality it is. that's what he thinks, anyway.

he doesn't particularly bother trying to limit the glasses he intakes, why should he? koyo was staying sober, so was hirotsu, enough people that he'd be perfectly fine if anything severe happened. might as well enjoy the night as it lasts.

It's when his vision starts to blur that the first problem arises. his movements are more staggered as he struggles to keep his balance - and he lets out an almost embarassingly high pitched whine of frustration to avoid when koyo reaches out a hand to try and help stabilise him.

chuuyas knees hit the ground, a few heads turn, but its nothing too interesting. the executive had been known for not bring able to handle his alcohol too well, after all. It's when koyo leans down to help him up, and her hand is slapped away - that more people have their eyes on the scene before them.

after all, nobody who'd responded to her with violence was treated kindly in the past.

but she knows different. chuuya wouldn't do that to her - the 15 year old she spent nights trying to teach basic table manners wouldn't hit her with aggression in mind. so it had to be something else.

she let's out a gentle sigh as she calls your cell. if anyone had noticed how chuuya has a painful softspot for you, it was her. if anyone could help with a situation like this, it'd be you.

the conversation doesn't last long. a simple polite request for you to come pick him up, to see if he'll let you pick him up. and when you arrive, he obviously sees you before you spot him, a slurred whiny call of your name cutting through the crowd. one that'd have a sober chuuya breaking brick walls with his skull to forget about it.

you move over to him, listening to his unintelligible blabbers as he clings to your leg. the gentle sobs as he nuzzles into the fabric of the trousers you'd lazily thrown on. the whimpers of "I missed you s'much.." "where were you?.." "my pretty thing.."

it takes a moment to get him onto his feet again, feeling his full weight lean into you as you do so. you call a thanks to koyo, hearing her gentle giggle as you lug your boyfriend out of the party. a response of "good luck with him!" rings past the music on the speakers.

getting him home was an effort. dragging him into bed with his entire damn weight on you should've got you an olympics medal. but seeing his hazy eyes search for you, a blubber of your name as he spots you. and those gloved hands reaching like you're the only thing he'll ever need in life. it's hard to stay mad.

you settle beside him in bed, letting him wrap around you like a koala. chosing to not comment on the smell of his breath as he whispers love to you for the simplest things. he's always been sweet to you like that.

you feel the way his hands still as he drifts to sleep. from idly fiddling with your clothes to completely stone on your side. listening to the way his breathing relaxes. he felt so safe around you. it'd always been you. that's how he liked it.

[lokisprettygirl]

Rain to his Fire (Modern! Daemon Targaryen x Female Reader) (Non Canon 80s Au) (18+)

Read Chapter 5 here// Series Masterlist

Chapter 6

Summary: Your anger gets Daemon in a bit of a trouble. Something really awful is going on at the king's landing wellness center.

Warning: 18+, smutty scenarios, crude language, boring chapter, description of Statutory rape, discussion of mental health (it's a fic based in a mental health facility), mention of physical assault, the fic would contain several mentions of several disorders like mpd, did etc, if something triggers you don't read, smoking.

You found yourself idly picking at your cuticles as you waited for Dr. Vis to enter his office. You had been called in for a discussion and your gut told you that it was about Daemon. Despite working at the center for two years now, you couldn't even remember the last time the two of you had shared a full sentence but since Daemon had arrived you were on his radar for some reason.

As you heard him entering the office, you stood up to greet him. However, Dr. Vis gestured for you to sit back down,

"You are Y/m/n's daughter, correct?" Dr. Vis asked you as you sat down. You nodded, feeling a rush of emotions at the mention of your mother “She was a lovely lady, always so polite and warm” he commented but you couldn't really tell whether he was genuine with his compliment or not. You didn't think of him as a person who'd remember a custodian of all people.

“Yeah” you smiled as you didn't really know what else to say.

"There's something I'd like to discuss with you about Daemon" Dr. Vis said, and your heartbeat quickened at the mention of his name.

“Daemon-?” You questioned, much to your surprise your voice came out really firm.

“He's been under my care for years now, but I have never seen him so violent as he was with those guards” you gulped as he said that “I visited them and they confessed to me why Daemon attacked them” he continued,

“Why?” You asked him, pretending as if you didn't know the reason already.

“Because of you” he paused for a moment before continuing “those men perhaps said something nasty about you, which i assure that there will be repercussions for such a behavior but that is the reason Daemon attacked them, now if there's one thing i am certain of is that Daemon doesn't do anything that would not serve him in return” he continued

“I'm sorry i don't understand what you mean” you responded as you tried to keep your voice neutral.

“I'll be plain with you y/n, are you offering him services beyond your duty as a custodian?” Your eyes widened in shock as he questioned you plainly. The implication of the question left you feeling embarrassed and angry at the same time.

“Absolutely not, I take my work seriously and always treat patients as such” you mumbled confidently, the confidence came from the anger you felt at his insinuation, even though he wasn't completely wrong.

There have been touching and inappropriate conversations between you and Daemon but it was all over last night, you didn't want to get involved with him again especially if he was entertaining the likes of Shyla as well.

“Daemon is a borderline psychopath y/n, you must know what that means right? He's charming and highly manipulative but everything he does is for his own gain” Dr. Vis said with utmost conviction. Daemon might have been an arse but a part of you knew he was far from being a psychopath with no empathy for others.

“Why does he call himself a dragon?” You asked him so Vis let out a laugh but it wasn't the sort of laughter that could bring anyone any comfort or understanding, on the contrary it chilled you to the bone.

“Because he's sick, why did you ask?” he mumbled, his tone was dismissive.

“It's just I found feathers in his room and when I questioned him he told me that they belonged to him”

The smile on Viserys's face disappeared as you mentioned that, a part of you knew you shouldn't have said anything to him, what if he hurts Daemon more? You felt the sinking feeling in your gut for letting the words slip out of you in nervousness.

“Feathers you said?” He looked at you confused so you nodded “He must have hidden those in his belongings when he came here," Vis repeated, watching you closely. “Guards must not have checked his bag properly. It's just a part of the act, y/n.”

You gave him a nod as he said that.

“Is there anything else you want from me?” he smiled and looked at you intensely as you said that

“Keep me informed if you find other suspicious things in there”

“Sure” you stepped out of his office, rolling your eyes throughout the way. What did he think of himself? And Why did you tell him about the feathers? The guilt was only going to get worse as the day goes on.

As you made your way to room 393, you found the guards doing the thorough search of his belongings. Great job y/n.

Daemon was already tied up to a chair and handcuffed in the corner of the room.

“Ummm can I proceed?” You asked John so he nodded.

“We are almost done, do you want us to leave him like that? For the sake of your safety?” John asked you so you looked at Daemon, there was a definite smirk on his face that most instantly vanished at your response.

“I'd like that, thank you” you glared at Daemon and you could tell he was confused by the sudden change in your demeanor.

As the guards left you quickly went on to do your work, ignoring Daemon altogether. You were acting like a scorned ex-girlfriend and it took you a minute to realize that.

You heard him sniffing as he looked at you up and down before he spoke to you.

“You're upset..why?” He asked you but you ignored him again and that was enough to rile him up.

“Heyy talk to me alright?” He raised his voice a little bit so you glared at him

“i don't want to talk to you, I don't want to look at you and i don't want anything to do with you” Your words were harsh and your tone was cold, making it clear that you wanted nothing to do with him and that was your plan but then his eyes flickered and you could see that he was hurt by your response.

“Why? I apologized yesterday, you forgave me-” you cut him off mid sentence before he could go on,

“And then you decided to fuck Shyla”

As your words sunk in he snickered at first, went quite for a moment, and then cracked his neck in disbelief.

“Bravo..I was wondering why I was being raided first thing in the morning. What did you say to Vis , hmm?” he asked, voice full of hurt and confusion. You knew he felt betrayed about you going behind his back.

“It was a slip of the tongue. I didn't mean it” you defended yourself and though it was true that you didn't share the information just to hurt him, you knew he'd feel hurt anyways.

“Oh why don't you accept it that you did it on purpose?” he asked you, his tone remained loud and snarky.

“Perhaps I did, now we are even” you retorted so he chuckled again.

“Oh are we? You can't hurt me because you're hurting, isn't that what you said yesterday”

“Don't turn this around on me alright? You don't get to be upset with me” your eyes welled up as you felt the surge of emotions coursing through you.

“I share those things with youuu, I choose to do so, because I believe in you or I did at least”

You didn't answer him as he said that. What were you supposed to say? You shouldn't have told Dr Vis about the feathers, you regretted doing it as soon as you had opened your mouth but you felt on the spot in that moment, what you had seen last night coupled with the nervousness you felt under Dr Vis’s suspicion made you feel so angry and you took it out on him. These days you were doing things you never thought you'd do. He really was driving you insane.

“You know what your problem is?” He asked as he suddenly rose up from the chair, breaking the rope and the handcuffs in one quick motion as if it didn't take a single ounce of strength.

He stepped closer, until you felt like he was practically looming over you so you crossed your arms defensively,

“Tell me, what do you think my problem is?” you challenged him

“Your problem is that you don't listen or ask for explanations, you just assume things.. you're so fucking judgemental..you saw her visiting me and just assumed that we were fucking in here” He spoke angrily, his jaw clenching, teeth gritting, face contorted with rage.

“I don't care if you're fucking her”

Now that was purely a lie which even you couldn't deny.

“Huh then why are you acting as if I have broken your heart?” he asked, voice dripping with sarcasm.

“I am-” you didn't even know how to justify your behavior. What was it to you if he was sleeping with other women? He wasn't your boyfriend.

“I don't want to be a part of this ..i can't..I can't.. feel this way that I am feeling, I don't like it ..it's hurting me and I don't like it” you trailed off, barely able to form a sentence that would actually make sense to him.

“I didn't ask you to come to me, to tend to me, to steal for me, i didn't ask for those things” his eyes welled up as he spoke, he felt as if he was losing you forever and it didn't feel right at all but if he was hurting you so badly then he didn't want to add to your misery either. If he was becoming too much to deal with he would not force you to be his friend or more.

“Right”

You looked at the shredded ropes and the broken handcuffs as you reached for them to clean it up. How did he have such marvelous strength? A part of you really wanted to believe that he was something extraordinary, but then he was also not well, he was a patient.

“We didn't fuck..i didn't touch her like that” he mumbled suddenly and your heart skipped a beat, you couldn't tell whether he was lying or not but then he really didn't have any reason to lie to you.

“Why else would she come to see a man who had supposedly harmed her?” You asked him as you grabbed your cart so he chuckled.

“She wanted to confirm a rumor she had heard at the hospital and she told me why she had lied that day”

“Why did she lie?”

“Why do you care? You didn't want to be a part of this right?” he mumbled sarcastically so you bit on your cheek and nodded.

“Right”

With a heavy heart, you silently turned around and left his room. You had made such a big fuss, and for what? You couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt for how you had behaved. Not only had you made the entire situation worse by telling Dr. Vis about the feathers, but you had also acted like a terrible friend and betrayed Daemon's trust in the process.

During Lunch hour he caught you staring at him, he knew you wanted to talk to him, it's not as if you had many friends here, he was starting to think that he was the only person you had genuinely befriended in a long time, your aversion to men wasn't just limited to sex but the whole idea of intimacy in general.

Later that night when you went to bed you felt extremely upset about the whole situation and you really missed him, perhaps you shouldn't have jumped to conclusions so easily, eyes can be deceiving and a part of you trusted him when he said that he didn't sleep with her..

As you heard the knock on the door, you quickly leaped out of your bed and ran towards the door but composed yourself before opening the door.

“You know if you apologize I will forgive you” he mumbled as he walked past you and pulled down his hood. You knew you owed him a genuine apology for how you had acted this morning.

"Daemon, what are you doing?" you asked, shocked as you watched him frantically open every drawer in your room, rummaging through your possessions. You didn't see what he had taken, but you knew he had taken something and tucked it away in his pocket.

“Apologize darling” he mumbled as he turned around to look at you so you crossed your arms.

“Im sorry, I didn't mean to rat you out..that's not the kind of person I am .. usually” you looked down as you spoke, your heart felt heavy and he could sense your discomfort so he walked towards you.

“Why did you go into his office?” he asked, his tone now gentle.

“He called me in, Darryl and Jacob had told him that you attacked them because they had made a joke about me” Daemon was silent for a moment as he processed your words.

“You know about that?”

“I heard last night, that's why I wanted to see you, and then I saw Shyla and assumed -”

“That I was fucking her.. and that made you upset” he was smiling as he finished his sentence so you rolled your eyes.

“Yeah whatever, he asked me if I was offering you uhhh bed services or something for you to get so upset about a stupid joke-”

“Joke? They were insulting you..these people that you work with and trust so blindly”

“I don't trust them..I don't trust men ..i know how ugly they can be..but you can't attack people-” you responded as you felt a sense of frustration.

“I can and I will again if I hear anyone talking filth about you”

His words were bold and confident, and they didn't fail to have an impact on your already budding feelings. As he spoke, you found yourself staring at him, unable to look away. Despite everything that had happened this morning, there was still a connection between the two of you that you couldn't ignore.

“And why is that?” you asked him so he grabbed you by the shoulders as he pulled you even closer.

“Because you're my friend sweetheart..I care about you, is that enough?”

“You can't attack people Daemon” as he attempted to pull away from you you reached for the collar of his hoodie and for a moment he was taken aback,

“I appreciate that you did..that you care enough about me but I don't want you to get hurt again, okay?” he couldn't help but smile as you said that. You worried about him, that much he knew.

“Alright, next time I'd hurt them less enough that they're not hospitalized” he said as a matter of fact so you let go of him, not knowing whether to reprimand him for being so stubborn or kiss his stupid face for being so protective of you.

“What did you steal from my drawer?” you asked to cut the tension so he stepped away from you.

“I'll show you woman..calm your gorgeous tits” he mumbled with a grin evident on his face, his words making you feel flushed instantly.

“Other men can't make a joke but you can talk to me this way?” you mumbled to hide your giddiness.

“I only do it because you allow me to, the day you'd ask me to keep my mouth shut for real, I'd never go against your words”

He always knew how to warm his way into your heart again, didn't he?

“If it's a scissor or a knife you better give it to me right now” you mumbled to steer the conversation again so he smiled and pulled out the scissors from his pocket, his hand wrapped around the handle, a part of you feared for his safety, he definitely was unpredictable and unstable at times.

“Daemon give me that please?” You mumbled softly as you stepped closer to him so he chuckled lightly.

“Ohh you beg so sweetly darling..but don't bother I'm not going to hurt myself i promise or you for that matter” he assured you and it did make you feel better but you still wanted to snatch that scissor away from him.

“Then why do you have it?” you questioned him softly so he smiled again.

“Trying to prove a point”

You couldn't even understand what he was trying to do so the shock and fear you felt was unimaginable when he started to chop away those beautiful locks of hair on his head.

“Daemon– “

“Calm down darling I can hear your heartbeat it's so loud…it's just hair …they grow back”

“Why are you doing this Daemon?” your eyes teared up as you questioned, a part of you felt awful seeing him chop those silver locks so carelessly.

“Just told you, I'm trying to prove a point”

“What point?”

“You wanted me to show you, that night you asked me to open your eyes so that's what I'm going to do”

“Cutting your hair is going to accomplish what?”

“You'll see”

Once he was done cutting his hair in a haphazard manner he walked towards you and grabbed your hand as he went down on his knees.

“Touch them” he spoke firmly but his tone was demanding and soothing at the same time.

“Why?”

“So you'd know they're real, that I'm not fooling you with a wig”

You hesitated for a moment but eventually wrapped your fingers around his scalp. He closed his eyes as you ran your fingers through his locks, and you heard him purr softly when you pulled on the roots lightly to confirm that they were indeed real.

“What now?”

You asked him softly so he chuckled, as his eyes raked over your inflamed cuticles he brought each finger to his lips and kissed on them one by one as if his kisses would soothe the burning sensation.

“Now you wait” you sighed deeply as he said that.

“Why don't you just come and see me when you're turned into a dragon?” you asked him softly so he sighed.

“It doesn't work that way, sometimes I can only grow my wings, the other times my hair is the only thing to transform, at times I'm able to build fire with my fingers but I lack the control, it comes and goes instantly, the reason why I have been so confused all my life is because everyone around me made me believe that I was losing my mind and at times i thought so too but not anymore” he mumbled, his voice laced with frustration but you could tell that he was choosing to trust you again with his secrets and mysteries. Or his delusions.

“You can..build fire?” you asked him so he nodded again as if it wasn't the craziest thing in the world.

Could that be the reason why he was burning like a furnace all the time?

“Okay, then I wait” you mumbled softly so he rose up slowly and hugged you tightly before he left that night.

However two days passed and his hair still looked the same, it looked really awful and you could tell that he was getting antsy about it as well. He clearly felt embarrassed and frustrated but dragon baby or not, you were going to help him get through this thing. Perhaps this was a coping mechanism for him , something he had developed as a child to cope with the loneliness he had surrounding him..

Three days later you finally dragged him out of his room and took him to the groomer in the facility to get his hair fixed. You liked how the longer hair looked on him, it made him stand out and if you were being honest with yourself it gave him a distinct aura but as he said it was just hair and it would grow back, at least he wasn't hurting himself.

As you assisted him back to his room he seemed a bit gloomy so you stepped inside and closed the door to offer him some comfort.

“Why are you sad?” You asked him so he sighed.

“Now you think I'm full of crap” he muttered, as if he was expecting you to judge him and call him a lunatic.

“I don't think that way” you responded.

“You certainly don't think very highly of me” he mumbled, his eyes seeming as if he was close to tearing up.

“That's not for you to decide” you told him confidently so he snickered at first but as you walked towards him and wrapped your arms around his waist to embrace him, you could see his defenses breaking down. “Besides, I don't care whether you're a dragon or not, I don't care whether or not you can turn into an otherworldly creature. I just care about you and I don't want you to get hurt” you mumbled as you looked up at him and you could tell he wasn't really expecting that, he was expecting you to make fun of his delusions and not be such an angel about it.

“So it's not a problem for you if I am lying about it?” he asked curiously so you gave him a smile.

“I'm sure you think you're not lying, it's real in your head and i believe that”

As you laid down in your bed that night, your mind was filled with mixed emotions. You couldn't stop thinking about the situation, and you found yourself feeling guilty about what you had done by telling Vis about Daemon's supposed feathers. You knew that you had made a huge mistake, and you really wished that you were capable of taking it back somehow but it wasn't possible.

The next morning as you dragged your cart into his room, you quickly beelined towards the bedside lamp, it was dark in his room and you heard the shower running already, which was a surprise as he often slept until late..

As he came out of the bathroom you had your back turned towards him so he smiled,

“I want to show you something” he mumbled in his “I'm sexy first thing in the morning voice” so you shrugged in response.

“Put your clothes on first..or just a cloth would do” you requested him so he grabbed a trousers from the closet and put it on.

As you turned around, you were greeted by a shocking sight - there he stood with a long, wet, silver mane cascading down his shoulders, almost reaching his waist.

As he approached, you took involuntary steps behind but there wasn't much room for you to hide. Was that a wig? How did he find it if it was? It can't be real right? What would you do if it was real? What would that even mean? You found yourself going through an existential crisis at the moment.

As you hit the wall, he placed his arms around you to entrap you between him and the wall, and he smelled divine, which wasn't really fair to you, you must smell like cleaning chemical products all the time, you thought..

You finally dared yourself to look up at his head, particularly at those long luscious thick hair.

“Touch it” he asked you as he let out a whispering voice so you shook your head, your eyes already teary so he grabbed your hand and brought it closer to his head before he leaned down and pressed his nose into your neck like always.

“Touch them please” your fingers eventually clutched around the roots of his hair and you sighed, from the relief but also the weirdness of the situation.

“Pull” he whispered in your ear so you closed your eyes and pulled on his strands slightly to confirm that his hair was actually real. It was all real.

“How?” You asked him a stupid question so he pressed his head up and looked at you intently.

“You know how, you just don't want to believe it”

“You turned into a dragon last night?”

“For a moment, it was enough”’

“What if I'm crazy.. and this is a hallucination? Just my mind playing tricks on me? What if this is not even real? What if you're not real” you looked up at him with your teary eyes and trembling lips so he tilted his head. He didn't expect you to understand this, not yet, nobody did, but at least you didn't run away from him at the first sign of trouble, last night you were in here telling him that you'd care for him no matter what, even if he was crazy and delusional you showed him that you'd stand by him.

His hands dragged up from the side of your waist and your breaths picked up immediately, his fingers then trailed the side of your curves, making your knees feel weak at the touch.

“Would this feel so hot if you were hallucinating darling?” he asked you as he opened the buttons of your cardigan, your fingers clutched around the waistband of his trousers.

“Daemon-” you whispered his name as his fingers glided over your chest, your nipples became erect quickly, the thin bra you had on did nothing to hide your shame. As he finally touched the aroused clothed nubs you almost combusted.

“It's all real, I'm real and I'm trying to show you who I am” he whispered in your ear as he cupped your breasts in his palms and rubbed his fingers over your bosom.

“How? Why? It can't be real Daemon” you asked him, not in the sense of judgment but disbelief. You found yourself annoyed by your own questions but he smiled instead.

“I don't really know, i wish to know why I am this way and I'll figure it out, that's why I'm here” he told you as he brought his palms up to cup your cheeks, thumb grazing over your lips tenderly.

“I'm sorry I am trying to make sense of it, I don't want to hurt you, I'm sorry if I still seem doubtful but I'm trying” you mumbled almost quietly so he nuzzled his nose against yours to calm you down.

“I know, i know sweet girl, thank you, nobody has tried before, nobody cared enough, just you being here is important for me”

You got on your tiptoes to wrap your arms around his neck to hug him, the scent of your hair calmed him for a moment but then he heard something and he immediately had you pressed against the wall with his hand wrapped around your throat, a moment later the door flung open.

“What's going on over here?” Dr. Vis asked so and you felt Daemon's grip around your neck tighten for a moment before he let you go.

“Your stupid fucking maid can't even do her job properly” he stormed towards Vis so he glared at him, a moment later two guards entered and handcuffed Daemon, you knew if he wanted to get out of their clutches he could have done so easily but he didn't even try.

“Are you alright dear?” Vis asked so you nodded, you knew Daemon pretended to attack you in order to protect your job and your image in front of Vis but you didn't think Dr. Vis was a man fooled so easily.

“Yes, I just need a moment” you mumbled as you caressed your neck and fixed your cardigan as you moved towards your cart to get the fuck out of there.

“What is this hmm?” Vis asked Daemon as he flicked his long hair to mock him.

“For a doctor you surely are dense”

The remark earned Daemon a slap on the cheek and then he was dragged out of the room for his therapy session.

The possibility of Daemon being an otherworldly creature was becoming more probable day by day and you didn't know how to accept it. How was it even possible? Did his mother sleep with a dragon? Or she was a dragon? Dragons existed? There were other human dragon hybrids in the world or he was the only one? Your brain was running a mile per second with all those thoughts in there.

Later that night you somehow were able to sneak into his room, there was a mark on his cheek and it made your heart clench for him,

“This is not right daemon..he can't treat you like this all the time, you're a patient here, not a prisoner” you mumbled softly as you caressed his cheek so he sighed,

“We need to stop seeing each other like this” he mumbled suddenly but it didn't really surprise you, you knew it was becoming dangerous for you both.

“Mmmm I'll stop tomorrow..did he not question the hair?” You asked him so he shook his head.

“He blames it on generalized hypertrichosis, claims that i have had it since birth”

“Even with the condition you can't grow 12 inches in a night-” you said to him and you could see the grin forming over his face “Shut up”

“I didn't say anything”

“You're doing it in your head”

“Head is definitely involved darling”

“Shut uppppp ..” you mumbled again so he grabbed your chin and leaned into you to kiss your forehead.

“They're beautiful” you mumbled softly as you grabbed a lock of his hair between your fingers, they were silky and so shiny as if he had just returned from a hair salon.

“Would you cut them a little bit shorter for me?” he asked you so you hummed in response before you spoke.

“Mmmm I definitely can but you should keep them for a night, I can braid them for you”

He was definitely happier about the prospect of getting his hair tended to so he excitedly sat down on the floor after passing you the brush. You carefully brushed the tangles and braided it from the sides before you tied those ends together in the center, he looked beautiful, you couldn't really take your eyes off him.

For some reason you just knew that this particular memory was going to stick with you for a long time to come.

The next morning, as you went about your morning routine, you couldn't help but feel a sense of curiosity wash over you. When you saw two policemen in the corridor with Viserys, it piqued your curiosity more than ever before. The police had been around the center quite a few times, usually when a patient would run away. You decided to investigate, and made your way towards the cafeteria, hoping to find answers. As you entered the room, you saw Shyla crying, and Dina trying to comfort her so you approached them as well.

“What's wrong?” You asked her so Dina sighed, her response wasn't what you could have expected even in your worst nightmare.

“That previous patient Tanya from 393? Her body was found in the woods nearby last night”

👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀

Taglist

@anukulee @ammo23 @littledark11 @stupidthoughtsinwriting

@daenny-t

[gloomysoup]

when the world stops turning (my heart stops beating)

hello hello i bring you some actual writing for once how exciting !! this is based off this post by @acowardinmordor once i saw it my brain just wouldn't stop until i fleshed it out into something relatively coherent so here it is !! if this does well i'll probably put it up on ao3 later

ao3 pt. 2 pt. 3 pt. 4

cw: drugs, illusions to drug abuse and overdose, minor character death, illusions to major character death (probably temporary), panic attack, medical crisis

When Eddie was eight years old, he found his mother on the bathroom floor, a half-empty bottle of pills in her hand. She wouldn't wake up. Eddie hadn't known what to do, so he wandered across the way to his favorite neighbor’s house. Mrs. Westbrooke was an older widow who'd lived in the same house for decades. Once Eddie had told her his mom wasn't waking up, she called for an ambulance. The paramedics came and took his mom to the hospital. Eddie stayed with Mrs. Westbrooke until Wayne came to pick him up.

That was the first time he spent more than a night or two at Wayne’s. It was about a week and a half before he was taken back home. The same thing happened a year and a half later. His mom passed out on the kitchen floor that time, and it was a baggie of colorful pills instead. Something she'd gotten from a friend of his dad. Something his dad had gotten her hooked on several months prior, when the doctor stopped writing her prescriptions. He was with Wayne for three days before his dad came to get him. Two weeks later, he was on Wayne’s doorstep with a single bag of everything he owned, his dad behind bars. He'd been with Wayne ever since.

His uncle had made a promise to him that first night, when Eddie finally realized this was it. He was with Wayne for good. There was no going back. He'd promised Eddie none of that would ever happen again. He didn't have to worry about Wayne disappearing in the flashing red and blue lights. He wouldn't find him half-dead on the floor of their trailer. He was safe. Eddie believed him. For years, Eddie believed Wayne was right. He'd never once let Eddie down before. He was always there. He took him in when he had nowhere else to go.

Too bad Wayne couldn't have predicted this.

New York City. June 1994. A sold out show at Madison Square Garden. Eddie on stage with his best friends. His boyfriend watching from the wings. How it was always supposed to go.

The air was fizzing with energy. The crowd was screaming so loud. Eddie’s heart was pounding, blood rushing with adrenaline. He kissed Steve hard in the green room, a promise between them of more to come. Steve wished him luck, and it was time to take the stage. They'd finally made it. All their hard work was paying off.

About halfway through the set, Steve disappeared. Eddie wasn't worried. He didn't know he should've been. When they came off stage, the crowd was still screaming, and the band was riding the high of a great show. It felt amazing. It was more than they ever dreamed, growing up the way they did in a town like Hawkins. Eddie was grinning so wide his cheeks hurt.

“Anyone seen Steve?” he asked, handing off his guitar and starting to pull off his mic pack.

“Not for a while,” one of the techs responded. “Said something about the bathroom, I think, but he never came back.”

Eddie frowned, a little confused. It wasn't like Steve not to be there when he came off stage.

“He's probably just waiting in the green room, Ed,” Gareth said, knocking his shoulder against Eddie’s as he passed. “I'm sure there's nothing to worry about.”

Eddie didn't hang around with the others. He headed straight for the green room, hoping Gareth was right. There was a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach. The same feeling he got all those years ago, right before he opened the front door to find his mom on the kitchen floor. It ate away at his insides, churning deep and uncomfortably. His heart was racing, and it was no longer due to the high energy of the show. Panic was coursing through his veins.

His hand hesitated on the door to the green room. He felt eight years old again, knocking on Mrs. Westbrooke’s door when he couldn't wake his mom up to make dinner. His hands trembled as he grabbed the knob and twisted, easing it open. The room was empty. Eddie’s heart plummeted. Steve wasn't there. Steve was missing, and Eddie had this horrible feeling spreading through his entire body. He still wasn't sure why the feeling was there; he had never once had a reason to believe Steve was doing anything harder than weed. It was still there, though, and Eddie was panicking. He needed to find Steve. He had to make sure Steve was okay.

He headed for the bathroom next. The techs had said he went to the bathroom. Maybe something happened. Maybe he hit his head and couldn't remember where he was. The feeling said otherwise, but Eddie refused to believe it. He was overreacting. Steve was fine.

He was lying to himself.

The bathroom door was unlocked. He pushed it open, knocking. “Steve? Are you in here?” he called. He could barely hear through the rush of blood in his ears. He stepped inside, and he was sure his heart stopped beating altogether.

Just like that, he was ten years old. His mother was dead on the kitchen floor. Mrs. Westbrooke held him on her front porch as his mother was taken away in a blur of red and blue. He was ten years old, watching Wayne’s old pickup coming up the drive. Through the pounding in his ears, he could faintly hear the gravel crunching under the tires of the red truck. An odd comfort. A reminder of safety. What he wouldn't give to have that again right now.

“She wouldn't wake up, Uncle Wayne,” Eddie said softly, his voice trembling as a few tears rolled down his cheeks.

Wayne bent down, his old knees creaking, and pulled Eddie into a tight hug. “I'm sorry, Ed.” He squeezed tighter, letting Eddie bury his face in his worn flannel. “You're gonna come stay with me for a couple days, ‘til everythin' gets settled.”

“I don't got any clothes, Wayne.”

“Don't you worry ‘bout that right now. We’ll figure somethin’ out. I promise it’ll be alright.”

Steve was lying on the bathroom floor. Eddie couldn't breathe. There was a bag of colorful pills, so similar to the ones his mom had taken, sitting on the sink counter. Next to it was a line of white powder. Eddie’s vision blurred with tears as he dropped next to Steve, shaking his shoulder.

“Steve? Steve, baby, wake up. Please wake up.” Eddie was gasping for breath through his sobs as he tried to shake Steve awake. It wasn't working. He wasn't waking up.

“Mama? Mama, come on. You gotta get up.” Eddie crouched down next to her, shaking her shoulder. “Mama, please. You can't sleep on the floor.”

“Please, baby,” Eddie begged, pulling Steve into his arms on the bathroom floor. “Please. I can't lose you too, Steve. You gotta wake up. Please wake up.”

“Eddie? Are you okay?” The bathroom door opened. Jeff walked in, stopping dead in the doorway. It only took a few seconds for him to gain his bearings and jump into action. He crossed quickly, bending down next to them. “Shit. What happened?”

“I- he- he won't wake up, Jeff,” Eddie sobbed, still holding Steve tightly.

“Okay. Okay, let's not panic yet.”

The cracks in Jeff’s voice were not comforting. Eddie was already panicking. He'd been panicking since the feeling started to solidify, since he didn't find Steve in the green room. Eddie was well past not panicking. Eddie was teetering on the edge of a full-blown panic attack.

Jeff glanced around, took notice of the drugs on the counter, the way Steve’s chest wasn't rising or falling. He wasn't breathing at all. Jeff stood up quickly. “I'll go get help. I’ll be right back, Eddie. It's gonna be okay.”

Jeff ran from the bathroom. Eddie could barely hear the slap on his shoes on the linoleum in the hall over the sound of his own sobbing, the blood still rushing in his ears despite it feeling like his heart had stopped beating. He held Steve against his chest, burying his face in his hair. He silently begged the universe not to take Steve away from him. He wouldn't be able to handle losing anyone else. He needed Steve.

Eddie wasn't sure how much time passed before Jeff came back, paramedics in tow. All he knew was that Steve wasn't waking up. No matter how hard he tried, no matter how much he begged and cried, Steve wasn't waking up. His skin was pale and starting to grow cold. There's remnants of white powder on his nose. The paramedics try to move him from Eddie’s arms, but Eddie can't let go. He can't lose Steve.

“Eddie, you have to let go,” Jeff said gently, trying to tug Eddie’s arms off Steve.

Eddie shook his head. “I- I can't- can't, Jeff,” he forced out between sobs.

“The paramedics are gonna help him, Ed, but they can't do that unless you let go.”

“The paramedics are gonna try to help your mama, honey,” Mrs. Westbrooke promised eight-year-old Eddie as they watched from her porch. “Everything'll be alright, don't you worry.”

He missed Mrs. Westbrooke. He wished she were here to hold him, tell him he would be okay. He wanted to sit on her porch in the creaky rocking chairs, eating fresh baked chocolate chip cookies. He wanted safety and familiarity. It'd been a hard day for Eddie when the old woman died. He'd give anything to be back there with her, instead of here in this living nightmare.

Eddie reluctantly released Steve. The paramedics moved him to lie flat on the floor. Jeff’s arms wrapped around Eddie as he continued to sob. Eddie’s hands grasped at Jeff’s shirt. It was clean and dry. He must've changed after the show. Before he found them. The paramedics took Steve away, but Eddie couldn't move. He couldn't breathe. His whole body shook. He couldn't stop sobbing. Over and over, all he could think was that he felt like a little kid again, back when everything was falling apart. Steve was going to die, just like his mom did.

It was all Eddie’s fault.

[nightfallgame]

SHORT — 712 (01)

Originally Written: 07-15-20

Prompt: Imagine that 712 is "discarded" from Blight. He sort of just consigns himself to death, I presume. If you picked him up and began to fuss over him, nursing him back to health and whatnot, what would he do? Is he the kind of "tool" that feels uneasy/uncomfortable when not given orders? Or is he just blankly receiving the attention? How would he react to being treated like a beloved pet? How would he answer questions like, "What do you want for dinner?" Or "What's your favorite color?"

712 lives in a house now. 

Blight discarded him. He failed in a mission. He was hurt. And failure isn't accepted in a place like Blight, so there was no need to keep the one who'd made a mistake around. 

712 had wound up on the streets, alone. He'd sat down beside a dumpster, curled up on himself, and sat there for a good couple of days. It rained a couple of times, and he was cold and uncomfortable, but waiting for someone to find him and kill him seemed like the best option for a lot of reasons. There had to be a lot of people who wanted revenge. 

But you'd found him instead. You'd knelt down in front of him, told him to take your hand, and made him stand up and follow you home. After maybe three days on his own, the orders were a relief. At least he knew what to do now. 

You made him hold your umbrella all the way back to your home. 

Now, 712 lives with you. He has a bed, a room, and 'permission' to do what he sees fit. What 712 deems appropriate is making himself as useful to you as possible. 

He's learned how to do chores. He's still not very good at them— holding a kitchen knife is very different from holding the stabbing kind—, but he's trying his best. He's learned how to cook (sort of), clean (not very well), and do laundry (the machines still confuse him). 

You joke that he's your housewife now. You say that you're always happy to come home to him. 712 never knows how to respond to those things. 

You pet his hair. You bandage his wounds. You look after him in a way that reminds 712 of how regular people are supposed to treat animals that they're fond of. There are lots of times when you call him cute, kiss his forehead, or run your fingers through his hair. The affection makes 712 feel a little bit like he's going to melt, but he thinks he likes it. It's hard to say, when it's something he's never had before. 

When 'liking' things is a concept he's never had before. 

712 cooks you dinner every night. It's always simple food— he doesn't know any better yet—, but you're happy about it nonetheless. You even let him eat as much as he wants of what he makes, which is something taht 712 is very grateful for. 

Tonight, it's macaroni and cheese. He places a bowl of it down in front of you, then a smaller one at his own place, right across from you. You asked him what he wanted for dinner and told him that he could make anything he wanted to. 712 didn't know how to answer that question (want), so you'd chosen for him in the end. 

All he knew is that he wanted something warm. 

"Have you had a good day?" you ask him. 

"There have been no problems," 712 answers. He knows that's not exactly what you're wanting, but good is still something that he struggles to quantify. 

"Mm, that's good. Have you been happy?"

"I... I don't know how to answer that, ma'am."

"That's okay. You don't have to. I'm going to ask you some questions now, okay? You try your best to answer, but if you can't, I won't be mad." You say it easily, like 712 failing is no issue at all. He feels his chest tighten up. 

"Yes, ma'am."

"What's your favorite color?" 

Ah, this kind of question again.

"I don't know, ma'am."

"What food do you like?"

"Warm things, ma'am."

"Are you tired right now?"

"I'm functional, ma'am."

The questions go on for a few minutes. They're all simple. All the kind of things that a person should be able to answer. 712 hates that he's failing you. You're asking him such easy things, and the answers that he can supply are all wrong. 

Even so, you don't get angry with him. You let him give his bad answers the whole time, and just keep asking your questions calmly. By the time you're done, the macaroni is cool enough to eat. You tell 712 to do so, then take a bite of your own food. 712 obeys you. He always eats too fast, like he'll never get more, but you never mind. 

When dinner is done, 712 picks up the dishes and carries them to the sink. He'll wash those in a few minutes. You usually want him to yourself after dinner is done. 

"Come here, Seven," you tell him. 712 shivers at the nickname. 

When he's in the living room, you have him sit on your lap. He's small enough that he fits fairly well, so it's no inconvenience to you. You turn on an episode of the same show that you've watched with him every night since this routine started. 

The show is about how various things are made. The narrator has a calm, recognizable voice. 712 'zones out' to the sound of it combined with your heartbeat by his ear. 

This is... nice. Even he can understand that much. You're warm. Human contact always makes him tense up a bit, but you're easier to deal with than everyone else. He can lay with you and let himself relax, which is a very new thing indeed. You also pet his hair or rub his back more often than not, and that makes him feel even warmer. 

He could fall asleep. That kind of thing is dangerous— or at least, it should be. It never would have been acceptable for him to let his guard down so easily back at Blight. 

But you don't care a bit. You'd be happy if he let himself relax. And making you happy is the most important thing right now. His mission is to be as good for you as he possibly can be. You're the one whose orders he follows now.

[lovejosephquinn]

Authors Note: This took me 5 hours so I hope you enjoy, I'm really hoping you all enjoy it since I've hyped it up no end lmao 💀🥰

Summary: After a bad break up, your best friend Joe is there to pick up the pieces, the best friend you could ever have hoped for. Except falling for him wasn't ever planned but it's impossible not to when he makes it feel so damn easy

Warnings: reference to cheating, mild violence and angst, fluff and smut. All the categories mixed into one, under 18's DNI. Friends to lovers trope

Word Count: 4.8k

Taglist: @eddiemunson-mylove @choke-me-eddie @quinnypixie @capricornrisingsstuff @ali-r3n @aol19 @aysheashea @wonderheartz @shawnamae87

Something in the back of your mind knew it was a bad idea taking back your ex boyfriend, you'd contemplated the idea of not doing it but you listened to your head more than your heart and instead of standing up for yourself, you'd played into his hands and found yourself heartbroken yet again. You just never seem to learn and clearly this was your own problem to deal with, he'd cheated on you the first time and as the saying goes; once a cheat always a fucking cheat.

You fell to the floor the moment you received the direct message from the random girl who'd sent you a video, him and her together, doing the dirty. She'd found out from a mutual friend of a friend that he was already in a relationship and decided to come clean to you. Not that it made the situation any better, but at least she understood the girl code of sisters before misters.

You sobbed, hugging your knees, your mind all over the place, intrusive thoughts, valid feelings that you were sure to be having; yet there in one respect was nobody to blame but yourself. He'd given you a form of anxiety since the first time he'd done this to you, but it's hard to get out of feeling for someone once you're deep in it, your walls come crashing down once you've entrusted the person you're supposed to be with and then they break you as easily as they fixed you in the beginning.

The whole time you weren't sure whether you wanted to be alone but at the same time you didn't know if you needed the company to help you escape these disgustingly real thoughts which alluded your brain. You had a comfort blanket, your best friend. You didn't want to bother him and once you'd told him you knew he was likely to kick off at you and say the dreaded words of I told you so. It was irritating to know that he was that way inclined, but you knew he'd be right, you'd of probably done the same thing if it were the other way around.

You looked a mess, tears stained your soft cheeks which felt hot to the touch, you felt like you were going to throw up, your hands were shaking, you'd thrown your phone to the other side of your bedroom after receiving the message, screaming in the space of your new found loneliness. It should surely hurt less the second time but it doesn't, it feels worse. You were stupid.

You crawled over to your phone in hope that it'd sort your problems out, you knew you had to make the call, you needed your best friend by your side even if it meant him pissing you off. You looked pathetic, making those stupid whimpering sounds whilst you moved forward, settling yourself on your knees, you pressed onto your contacts, onto Joe's name and your thumb hovered over the green phone icon.

Through blurry eyes you did it and the tone began to blast through your speaker, you heard his voice immediately after which calmed you more than you could've imagined. It was like you'd lost your voice, a simple hello was not easy to respond to when you were in the midst of an almost panic attack. You could've just pretended like you'd pocket dialled him and ended the call, but you just couldn't find it in yourself to hang up on the one person you relied on when you were in such a mess.

"Y/N? Hellooooo?"

"I- I-" You stuttered out, a sharp breath following.

"Are you ok love?"

Your tears immediately resumed on queue. Calmness disintegrating.

"I'll take that as a-"

"No. No I'm not." You interrupted quickly, finishing his sentence for him.

"What the fuck did he do to you?" Joe was quick in assuming and quite right to his guess in why you weren't sounding great.

"What makes you think-"

"Don't play dumb with me darling, I recognise that tone of your voice from the last time that dick hurt you. I swore to you last time I'd let it go, but you made a mistake in going back to him, you forgave him and I know that cry when I hear it."

You absolutely detested how he knew you so well, for the good and for the bad.

"Hit the nail on the head there Joey." You sniffled your nose followed by another hitch of your throat, you dragged yourself over to the wall, backing yourself onto it, reinstituting your previous position, knees back up to your chest.

"I knew it. Do I need to go and commit a crime?" You closed your eyes and shook your head, for all you knew Joe was being serious and would get himself into trouble just for you, he was just that involved in your friendship, cared for you like nobody ever had.

"No. Please don't." You could've sounded like you were begging for him to not, but at the same time you'd of done anything to watch Joe punch his lights out for what he'd done to you.

"And are you going to stop me?"

"Look, I just need you here with me. Are you going to get off of your high horse and do your best friend duties?"

"Are you going to take him back again?"

"No." You sighed.

"No offence, but I'll believe it when I see it." You could've heard a pin drop, way to break your heart even further Joe.

"Please just come over and give me one of those special hugs, I could really do with that shit right now, not with your sarcastic tone of voice that I know and hate."

Joe hummed a snigger, you knew he was trying to joke around with you, but you were having none of it.

"I'm on my way, stay put." Joe ended the call, not like you were going anywhere in this state, but you could only handle being alone for so much longer before you broke down into a state where in the present you weren't sure you could come back from. The best part is that you were just presupposing that Joe was as free as a bird for you, but regardless to your own knowledge; this man would end whatever he was doing at the drop of a hat to be next to you.

You felt like you'd waited a lifetime for the knock at your door and when it came you found some energy to get up off your ass and answer it, the person you'd least expected to be there stood before you.

"Well you look a state." You've got to be fucking joking.

"Get the fuck away from me, I never want to see you again." You bellowed loudly, not even feeling an ounce of quiet in you, the anger seeping out quite abruptly.

"What're you on about?" Oh so he wanted to play dumb.

"Once a cheat always a cheat, get out of my life, I gave you one more chance and you blew it."

"Have you any proof?" He chuckled and you could've swung for him there and then.

You clutched your phone, bringing it up to unlock it with your face ID, pushing the video brightly showing on the screen, the noises that made you want to barf were shattering. His eyes grew wide. Your now ex boyfriend took your phone from your grasp and launched it across the room where it hit the nearby wall, a smash of glass was apparent in it's fall to the ground.

"No proof then." What a malicious bastard.

"How dare you." You ball your fist, bringing it up to and smashing straight into his cheek, violence is never the answer as your mum has taught you through life, but god knows he deserved it.

"Touch me again bitch I fucking dare you." Before you could even step back, his hand was wrapped around your throat, pulling you up onto your tip toes and throwing you back toward the wall your phone had landed. You saw your life flashing before your eyes, not once would you have ever imagined he'd lay a finger on you, a defence mechanism maybe for you striking him? You couldn't be making excuses because there were none for his own violent behaviour, except a pure guilty conscience.

"Get- off- me!" You stuttered as his grip intensified.

"Don't think you're ending things, you won't be going anywhere, you'll come back, you proved by doing that this time." How was he that entitled? You'd took him back based on the bullshit he'd fed you that he'd changed; where as you'd learnt he had not.

"You're- a- fucking- joke." You wheezed, an evil burst of laughter breaking out from the depths of your lungs.

"Takes one to know one." Suddenly, he was launched backwards, a thunderous screech was heard from him and he lost his grip on you and fell to the floor from the force in which he was manoeuvred back.

"Get the fuck off her if you know what's good for you mate." Your ex looked up to see Joe towering over him, a quick shoot of a look to you from your best friend he saw the sorrow in your eyes as you held onto your throat, catching the oxygen that you'd solely missed for a couple of minutes.

"Oh look, your best friend who clearly fancies you to the rescue, surprised you didn't fuck him whilst you were with me." Joe bent down slightly, taking a hold of his t-shirt and bringing him up to his feet back on eye level.

"You're a waste." Joe's pupils had dilated into a state of anger in which you'd never seen before, a different side to him in which you quite enjoyed, way over protective and way over his usual adorable state he carried 99.9% of the time.

"What you gonna do you pussy?" Your ex egged him on to take action upon his words and for the first time you saw Joe strike back. His knuckles caught him square in the nose, landing him straight back down on his behind. His nose seeped with blood and you cried out for them both to stop, your ex stood back up and Joe ragged him to the other side of the room, pushing him toward him and then back again.

"Come near her again, I'll fucking end you." Joe lowly whispered. A threat now made a promise. He wasn't joking.

Your ex stumbled out of the front door and Joe hung his head around to watch him leave until he was out of sight of the hallway of your flat complex. Joe slammed the door shut, bolting the door locked and rushed over to you in a hurry. Grabbing a hold of you instantly, pushing your head onto his chest, one hand soothed your back whilst the other held onto the back of your head.

"It's really over Joe." You couldn't help the overly loud, obnoxious tears that consumed your entire being. You were shaking and so was he, both from different states of anger, stress and upset.

"I know darling, I know." He didn't want to say it, he didn't want to give you the whole talk, that could wait until you'd stopped crying at least. Joe held you in pure silence for a good 10 minutes, stood in the same position, the scent of him engulphed your nose as you wept and wet through his jumper that he wore. Homely. Beautiful. Dreamy.

"Everything will be okay, you know that right? It might not seem that way now, but maybe this needed to happen for you to realise that you can do so much better, you deserve everything above what that prick has done to you." You managed a brief smile and you could realise that he felt it from the way you felt his heart thump in his chest and in turn, his reaction reflected upon yours, your stomach feeling nauseous but in turn relieved from the butterflies which flew through your stomach. Not the first time you've felt that around him, but you never acted on it, shrugging it off; this time felt different.

"You hear me? Tell me you know it'll be alright and that you won't do anything stupid."

"I hear you."

"Tell me." Joe put his hands to your arms, bringing you back to look at you full on, his natural chocolatey gaze which warmed right through you came back to light and you couldn't deny him of his need of response.

"It'll be alright..." You paused.

Joe tried to offer you a sympathetic smile, the type you give to someone in need.

"As long as you're around." You whispered.

"Always." Joe pulled you back in for another sweet hug, not lasting as long this time, he took your hand and brought you over to a more comfier place, also known as your sofa.

You sat across from him but was immediately invited back into his arms, it was a welcoming view and you couldn't actually wait to be back in them. At this point, he wasn't your best friend, he was your hero. You'd shared a moment more intimate in the least intimate of ways and it just felt unlike any other time you'd shared an embrace.

You settled down with your head on his lap, his fingertips played with your hair, brushing through them with no tangles in sight. You were in a calmer state, less tears and less heavy breaths, the air refilling your lungs perfectly. You found your eyes heavy from the amount of anxiety you'd undertaken in the last hour, a lot for the heart to handle.

You opened your eyes in a slightly confused daze, you rolled over to see Joe take his eyes from his phone which he was just aimlessly scrolling through, his smile so much brighter than the last you'd seen it. "Hello sleeping beauty." You rubbed your hands over your face, slightly embarrassed that you'd fallen asleep under the circumstances you had.

"I'm so sorry I dozed off."

"Don't apologise, you looked cute, so was the little snores." You lifted your hand up to tap his face making him laugh out, there's the Joe you knew and loved. Loved.

"Shut up I do not snore."

"I beg to differ." Joe laughed again and it made you giggle in turn.

"Slight change of subject, but I heard a song I've not heard for years whilst you were asleep and it made me think of you. Especially relevant to times like this." Not that he had to bring up the situation of today, but it was necessary to his point.

"Oh yeah what's that?" You saw his cheeks flush and you were not sure if it was rapid regret or that he'd just made it up to bring up a different conversation; but then why would he talk about the whole ordeal?

"Don't cringe at me for this." You chortled his way, his cheeks now a crimson red, he was biting down on his bottom lip and you quickly shut up to show an ounce of respect for what he clearly wanted to show to you.

"Cross my heart and hope to-" You were cut off when he leaned up to stand in front of you, your head thumped down onto the sofa in the warm spot where he'd been pressed to it.

"Don't finish that sentence, up you get." He offered out his hand and you gladly took it, a bemused look upon your features.

He pressed play on his Spotify and threw the phone down onto the sofa, you were suddenly in a state of pure bliss when you heard the notes begin.

If you ever find yourself stuck in the middle of the sea I'll sail the world to find you If you ever find yourself lost in the dark and you can't see I'll be the light to guide you Joe pulled you into him once more, but began swaying from side to side, you were astonished that this side was coming out of him, a private moment you were sharing together, closer than you'd ever felt before with your best friend. Emotions screaming loud and clear. As per, you'd really never acted on them, but there was clearly some hidden feeling toward him that you didn't want to bring to light and make exist, but with this meaningful song playing in the background, it was out of the question for you to not go down that road.

You thought your ears had deceived you when you heard Joe's voice whispering into your hair, slowly moving down towards your ear when the chorus began.

You can count on me like one, two, three I'll be there And I know when I need it, I can count on you like four, three, two And you'll be there...

You'd never believed the words of a song like you did now Joe was singing them at you. You felt alive, electricity was greedily taking over the entirety of your body. You hummed along to the sound of the music, Joe's hands wrapped further around your back, still swaying he continued to voice the lyrics right at you.

You'll always have my shoulder when you cry I'll never let go, never say goodbye You know

As the final chorus blossomed through your ear drums and the song died down, you felt yourself welling up again, though this time you were beaming, you pulled back to take a look at an even more blushed look on Joe's face.

"I hope-"

"That was beautiful, Joe."

"Don't ever let anyone think you're worth any less than that ever again. I for one won't let a soul do so." Joe cooed at you in a mild whisper.

"You're truly amazing." You fluttered your eyelashes down to the ground and you felt the touch of his thumb lifting your chin to look back at him again.

"Is this the part where I confess?" Joe sighed.

"Confess?" Your eyebrows furrowed.

"The song meant more to me than you know and I want you to be able to count on me today and every day after that." You were suddenly sinking into a hole that you didn't want to get out of, you knew exactly what he meant but you wanted to hear it for yourself.

"Nobody will never hurt you again." Joe paused, his hand coming up to your cheek which you innocently tilted to lean on.

"As long-"

"As long as I'm around." Joe smiled, his face grew ever closer. It was more a need than a want now and despite everything that had happened today, reality was coming to light and though you should of probably stopped it there, you didn't.

Your lips collided together in a soft, warm and with meaning kiss. It was like in the movies, when two friends found themselves in this situation, usually fireworks would set off behind them and it'd be a happy ever after type scenario, but this was real life and you knew there'd be hurdles, but you'd cross that bridge when you came to it. No matter how hard your brain told you to stop, your heart begged you not to, you were right in doing so; you listened to your head last time and look where that got you.

Your lips stuck together like glue, becoming more open mouthed now, no tongues but complete passion, something that should not feel so good with what felt almost disallowed, you were tasting forbidden fruit. After what felt like hours, you both let go, panting for breath, staring directly into each others souls, a sweet split second turned heated.

"I'm sorry, I couldn't help myself."

"Do not apologise, I- I liked it." You bit down on your lip and he took full note of your body language, eyes flitting between your own and back down to your mouth again.

"That's hot." He bit down on his own lip.

"Ditto." You smirked, matching the wickedly framed smug look staring right back at you.

"For me, it's always been you." Joe's confession. There it was. Handed to you on a plate.

"Maybe I never knew truly, but I do now. Ditto." You mimicked his own version of ditto. The minute the word left your mouth he picked you up, throwing a squeak out of you from not expecting his sudden move, but excited nonetheless.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, arms wrapped around his neck as his mouth attacked to yours once more, more fiercely this time, the fireworks well and truly working their magic. You found yourself against a wall for the third time today but this time it was in good stead, you were making out with your best friend, something you never thought would happen in your wildest dreams. You suddenly could feel his erection pressed against your crotch, slightly rubbing against you which made you shudder under his touch.

"Too much?" Joe spoke through your kiss.

"Too little." You replied.

Joe carried you back to the sofa, slipping you down and climbing on top of you before returning his lips to their rightful place. Tongues fought together wildly this time, noses crushed against each other, teeth clattering, slight groans erupting from each of you as he grinded down back into the same spot he was just pressed into.

He moved down to your neck, sloppily leaving a trail of his own saliva down it which blew heat down to your core, an ache which made you thrust in time to Joe's hip movement, his own little moan giving out.

You tugged at his shirt, dying for the moment you'd start to undress.

"Too much?" You hummed a giggle.

Joe leaned up, removing his shirt and tossed it to the floor beside him.

"Too little." He wiggled his eyebrows forcing another laugh out of you. This time he made his way down, peeling down your trousers in turn.

"Can I? I'm dying to taste more of you." You shoot him a mhmm as a way of silently pleading for him to get on with it.

You shimmy off the bottom half of your clothing as Joe slips himself off the sofa to position himself better, he pulls your underwear to the side, his eyes almost bulging out of his skull.

"What a beautiful pussy you have, holy shit." Joe slides a finger in a straight line between your slit, eyes fully trained on you when he puts it into his mouth and shares a sound of pure delight.

"Fuck yes..." He widens your legs and pushes his face between your folds, instantly sucking at your clit, giving you no room to adjust, eating you out like a ravenous animal, tongue swirling around, curing the aches in which you craved to be touched. Effortlessly, he inserts a finger straight through your entrance, curling it up to feel your walls, the thickness of them makes your back arch, especially as his mouths fully latched onto you with brute force, licking every part of your slick that he can manage.

"J-Joe oooh my- god. Yes." Your hands fall onto his curls, pulling at them, urging him by pressing him down so you could feel more, you wanted more, you needed more.

"You like that, baby. Do I make you feel good?"

"Fuck, more." You can barely speak.

He pushed another finger in, joining the other to stretch you out, your walls hugged his digits as you clenched firmly, writhing your hips back and fourth, riding his fingers as well as you could manage. You could feel the inevitable waiting to happen and just before it did, he made a swap, pulling his fingers out which immediately began rubbing erratically against your clit and his tongue pressed inside your entrance.

You moaned his name countless times, pain not a problem when you were almost yanking at his hair a top his head. The little sounds he made as he darted his tongue in and out of you threw you over the edge, your soul leaving your body and joining the angels in heaven, a slight black out on your part.

Joe watched on as you squirmed about the sofa whilst your orgasm took over you. "Fuckkk, atta girl. That's what I like to see." Once you'd come back down to reality, Joe had already rid of his own trousers, you witnessed his cock for the first time and my god did you like and extremely enjoy what you saw.

"Do you want me to-"

"Joe, just fuck me already." He'd well and truly got you in the mood.

"Yes ma'am." He choked a chuckle, putting a hand up to his head to salute like a soldier.

You went back to biting down on your lip when you saw him spit down onto his shaft, quickly fisting it and tipping his head back.

"God damn it Y/N. I'll bite that lip for you if you carry on."

You resumed in biting down on it once more and you moved into laying back across the sofa, he climbed back on top of you, holding himself up with his hands and leaning down to take your lip between his teeth before tugging it back.

"Don't test me woman." You both sniggered.

"Fuck. Me." You said sternly. He slowly pushed himself inside of you, making you both let out a breathless moan, as tight as you felt to him was how big he was feeling to you, a perfect match. As Joe adjusted himself, he grabbed a hold of your legs and hoisted them over his shoulders for deeper contact, he began to move at a slow pace. You could feel every inch thrusting through you, it was already the best sex you'd ever had, purely because the meaning behind it was something words could never describe.

You made a sound which made some halt to a stop, a worried look on his face.

"Too much?" He raised an eyebrow.

"Too fucking little." You licked your lips.

That was it. He pounded into you, he understood the assignment, you liked it rough, he knew you wanted to be fucked senseless, to forget everything that had happened today and the only way that was now going to happen was if he railed you to the extent you required.

His balls slapped against your ass, your walls clenching around him once more as he hit a spot which had you crying out a noise so loud, it was borderline pornographic.

"Fuck yes, take my cock!" He went harder, rutting his hips as fast he could, you could feel the tip tapping onto your cervix, pushing an orgasm straight out of you, the best part of it all; Joe felt the moment you did. He felt like the slick drip out of you and onto his balls, some even reaching the sofa.

"Where do you want me to- y'know." He panted.

"Anywhere, just cum for me." You whined, as desperate for his release as he clearly was, he wouldn't of mentioned it so quickly if he wasn't already nearing his limit.

Joe pulled out not a moment later, grabbing a hold of your hand and pulling you off the sofa and onto your knees, you acknowledged what he wanted. Opening your mouth, Joe wrapped his fist around his cock and began pumping toward you. Breath fiery and heaving out the air he had left in his lungs, he exploded when you took him into your mouth, his tip enclosed inside of it, gushing out heaps of his warm seed, you swallowed every last drop he had to offer.

You'd of thought after an encounter like this, it could've been the most awkward moment to share between you, but it was far from that. Joe pulled you back onto your feet and you held his hand as you took him into your bedroom.

"Didn't quite make it here huh?" Ugh Joe and his charming whit.

You fell onto the bed, not even worrying about the mess you'd made back in the living room. Joe crawled up next to you, pulling you into his arms, the best embrace you'd ever felt, skin to skin, bare and satisfied.

"Did I mention?" Joe asked.

"I don't know, did you?" You replied in an almost sarcastic tone.

"That I-" Joe pressed his mouth to your hair, your head laying on his chest hearing the beautiful beat of his heart in your ear, which was thrashing.

"I love you." Joe whispered, enough for you to make it out and enough for your own cheeks to flush this time.

"I- I love you too."

There it was. The true confession. The best friend who had been before you all this time felt like he could've been the one biding his time, waiting for you, to give you everything he possibly could. He could be the one who saved you, god knows he already had.

[hoe4rairai]

Raian with Friends & Family 👥️

Requested by @aneenasevla

▪︎ let's be honest, Raian doesn't have friends. His feral nature, type of life he is leading and the lack of emotional and social intelligence. He knows one thing only, how to kill and destroy

▪︎ Fast forward, he's now around 27/28 I guess so I hope after his Grandpa's death he'd become little grounded and tasted how it feels like to loose someone he secretly cared for.

▪︎We also established that Raian is an Introvert mostly, so connecting with ppl other than those who prepare his missions at the back office isn't a habit of his.

▪︎ Raian, only considered one person to connect with and that was Ohma and still is. Not out of appreciation per se, but out of inner respect and as a kure, it runs in their tradition to respect strong challenging opponents.

▪︎Raian and Ohma, are mostly training together, yes they do have side conversations, tease each other. Raian mainly pick at Ohma and give him hard time.

▪︎ Will Raian ever be loyal to Ohma ? the answer is yes and no.

▪︎ Raian is an assassin from a ruthless clan his loyalty will always be to the clan #1 any one else can die or go to hell he couldn't care less.

▪︎With Ohma, apparently his only acquaintance, he will consider being there for if needed or if he felt its needed. Anything related to destroying count him in.

▪︎ Raian is possessive and the jealous type, so If ohma has another group of ppl he would hang out with or a GF , Raian will hate it and will make sure he'll speak filthy about them, make trouble and cause inconvenience to anyone . That was few years back

▪︎ Raian now, has a huge responsibility on his shoulder that even his friendship with Ohma is on a stop-loss till he get his revenge.

▪︎Raian knows Ohma is there for him and the clan because they allowed him to live among them and be part of them,however; he is very distant now, training non stop , have no time and had grow bit mature, so I hope .

▪︎ In Festival seasons, Raian would occasionally enjoy some Saki or beer pints with the clan , the firework, he's not a fun killer. Few years back he would had ended with fights after each and every celebration just for fun, now he is hardly ever seen socialising at all.

▪︎ Fusui his sister, she is probably the only one who has full access to him. Knows his moods and his where abouts, his missions and she does check on him every now and then. He sometimes answers with a ( F*ck off ) or keep her on read and send her the middle finger emoji , his way of telling her he's in an ok mood or doing fine.

▪︎ the time he didn't respond with 24hrs, Fusui gets worried. Listen guys, Raian is an Asshole we all know that but he's a rare treasure to the clan and he's a big ass stupid idiot trouble maker baby who might be going through hard time after grandpa got killed. I feel he's been in an inner conflict for some time now.

▪︎ Raian will either mature or becomes a nightmare unstoppable and unattainable.

▪︎ I Hear you asking about his parents: not sure but I think they dropped his case with his first ever kill. They don't hate him they just believe and certain that Raian is war God and they probably just like the rest of the clan members, know he'd destroy anyone who'd try to speak up or trade the Clan secrets or jeopardise their Safety. THAT RAIAN NO ONE SHOULD SEE .. lucifer himself will dethrone himself and run straight to hell saving his ass from Raian.

RAIAN & Gifts 🎁:

▪︎ He basically rips the cute nice ribbon apart , has an annoying look on his face, without much though given to the gift he picks it up from the box look at it : ( WDF IS THIS ) no thank you and no consideration. Just throws it away in hopes he'll use it one day.

▪︎ At school , Raian had few crushes but he crushed them back quite literally when the girl used to approach him shyly with his birthday gift but instead he slams her to the wall push her with his body, lift her skirt teasing her, grab the gift , opening it fast, looking at it , through to the ground , laughing at her crying face and walk away. Still for some reason girls at school liked him a lot ...

▪︎ fast forward, the only one who gives him gifts is YEP YOU GUESSED IT FUSUI ...

▪︎she buys him gifts everytime she goes on a mission, expensive perfumes, showr gels, expensive knives sometime, she gets him a branded trainer, she knows his size.

▪︎ Did he ever got her anything ? The answer is

NO NO NO

▪︎instead he always gives her his Credit Card .. that's what he does for her and she's okay with it.

▪︎ Raian as an assassin he earns so much more than her .

▪︎ Surprisingly though; I think Raian do have great taste , basic, clean with a twist. He never shops he only goes online to certain stores picks something he likes throw it at his sister face and still calling her a bitch 🤣

▪︎ Christmas and Gifts : let's not be delulus , Raian purposely choose a mission to get away from all the gatherings that annoys the shit of him.

▪︎ he comes back and he has gifts laying on his bed, he secretly gets excited and has a tiny little smile.

▪︎ he would probably receive a gift from Fusui, Holies, karura, the school girl crush who still with a hope and I guess few more from the close clan relatives, his mom will try to hug him but Lord his eyes and the way he'd look at her sents her back to her seat ...

I hope you enjoyed it 🤗😚

[corvidcrossbow]

Every time I listen to Hazey by Glass Animals I just think of young Daryl like hhhhhhhuuuuuuuuu (I've been a Glass Animals fan for so many years and it's eating at me)

I imagine the verses would be a back forth between Daryl and his parents, and then you.

C/W: Mentions of abuse, alcoholism, smoking, parental death, Daryl's trauma

Your baby's falling, you know I'm talking now

You know I'm dancing, you know I'm racing 'round

No no you're so juiced, you said you'd kick the booze

You know I'll get bruised, you know that I'm just a boy

First verse would be a young him towards his father, his dad once saying he'd be sober - but of course that was broken following his mothers death, and it never held much truth or promise to begin with.

Daryl was just a little kid (I say 8 or so), and would try to use that as leverage, crying and pleading when his fathers abuse first started to really pick up. He'd always tell him to shut up and stop crying, which is where Daryl's tendencies to be closed off and hide emotions were cemented into his psyche - to 'take it like a man'. He'd hear it from Merle too under other contexts, who'd picked it up from their dad - but also bullies, teachers or most anyone else, that's just how it is growing up in the rural south.

Daryl never got to be a boy, he had to be a man.

Come back baby, don’t you cry

Don’t you drain those big blue eyes

I’ve been crawling

Come back baby, don’t you cry

Just you say the reason why

I can calm you

The chorus would be how Daryl would imagine his mom. He'd sit alone in the woods, or lay in bed in the dark, and try to hear the sound of his mothers voice - her comforting tone, arms reaching out as he'd run to her, feeling like he was crawling to her, and she'd hold him tight. She'd wipe the tears from his glassy big blue eyes. 'Wha's wrong sweetheart? Why're you cryin'? You can tell me. Shhh, shhhh... I'm here baby.'

He so badly wanted her back. To tell her everything, for her to save him from his father. Maybe she wasn't the best mother in the world, there'd been issues. But she was his mom. 'Pleas', momma... com' back...'

You say I’m bawling, I say I’m begging while

You take my photo, I fake my breaking smile

I’m fucking loco, I can’t get through to you

You turn your nose you, spark up and I can go

And again with the crying, Daryl's father would just say he was being 'a wimp' or 'a pussy'. Daryl had to learn how to mask everything, to act like it was all okay. Whether at school, in public, with friends, other family, or when Merle would come around - he needed to pretend what was happening wasn't happening. Maybe even then he could believe it too, that it wasn't real.

But as he aged, it ate away at him, drove. him. crazy. He knew the truth, that it did happen. It was real. And the scars that covered his back proved it. That's what led to his outbursts, how he'd get snippy and snappy with people. He could only keep his emotions buried for so long before they'd start to burst.

And it'd land him in trouble. Snarky mumbles towards a teacher when a test would be returned, and it was straight to detention. Giving someone the wrong look, then responding in the wrong way, and he'd find himself on the ground surrounded by kids a bit older and larger than him, kicking him before spitting at the ground beside him and leaving him there.

He was always more cautious around his dad, knowing he'd be a harsher outcome than any other - but there were still times where his father felt he was 'givin' 'im attitude 'n he needs tah check 'imself', even though Daryl was treading lightly.

Any time his father wasn't beating him, he was always drunk, or smoking. He gave up a long time ago with trying to reason with him, get through. He learned to rely on himself, and solely himself. Daryl would go out alone - and that time he was lost in the forest - and his dad was too engrossed in substances to realize, or care. He himself was all he really had, so he shut everyone else out. At least for a long time.

Come back baby, don’t you cry

Don’t you drain those big blue eyes

I’ve been crawling

Come back baby, don’t you cry

Just you say the reason why

I can calm you

And as the chorus would repeat, it'd be you. Daryl would distance himself, or even disappear. Isolating, shutting away what was left of a nearly nonexistent world.

Now you were the one begging. Going to find him and begging him to come back. For him to let you into his world, let you be there for him. Calm him, be what he needs.

And as you seemed to be metaphorically crawling after him, he finally let you in. Despite how many years had gone by, his eyes were still big, still blue, and glassy again.

Your words and actions would mirror what he pictured his mom doing. Holding him and rocking him, whispering against his head 'Shhh... it's okay, I'm here. Talk to me, angel. What's wrong?'

[roseverdict]

By Any Other Name

"What makes you so special, hm?" The stranger's voice was low and dangerous now, and they circled slowly around Orange's cage with the sharp gaze of a predator. "What about you was so perfect that He let Himself be swayed in your favor when no one else was ever able to manage it?"

(Or, "what exactly happens to Orange after their capture?")

(Or, "Vic has sauntered into my brain with a solid characterization and refused to leave.")

〜

HOLY SHIT

AVA 6 YALL-!

i don't think i'll be able to be normal about this Ever.

Macaroni and Sti-fi AUs are still chugging along, never fear, but here's a one-shot that grabbed me by the throat yesterday until i banged it all out in one go lmao. no beta we die like. wait. oh gosh oh fuck we need a new "no beta we die like"

〜

Orange watched as the gray sticks meandered purposefully through the warehouse. There were no clocks anywhere in Orange's line of sight, but they'd been watching long enough that they'd noticed a distinct change in the flow of the grays- there had been significantly fewer for a time, then they came back in mildly better spirits before dropping to an all-time low. If Orange had to guess, they'd just had dinner before switching to the night shift.

Orange's stomach rumbled at the thought, and they grimaced as their hand lifted up by it unconsciously.

Still frozen in their blank prison, the Chosen One didn't respond.

Orange scowled in their direction. "This is your fault, y'know."

Nothing.

"You come in ranting and raving about needing help from the one stick more powerful than you, then expect me to pick up the slack?!" Orange snapped. "You're just lucky I pocketed the pencil before you ducking kidnapped me, and even then-!"

Still nothing.

"Where'd you even get that idea, huh?!" Orange smacked the bars of their cell angrily, the noise ringing in their ears long after going quiet. "I'm not some kind of all-powerful stick figure! That honor goes to you! You and the Dark Lord both, if they're even still alive! I don't know what you did to make them disappear all those years ago, but it must've worked!"

The voice that spoke was almost unassuming, aside from the fact that Orange didn't recognize it. "That's just it. The Chosen One didn't put a stop to the Dark Lord."

Orange stiffened, then rattled the bars of their cell. "What the-? COME OUT WHERE I CAN PUMMEL YOU!"

"I'm afraid I can't do that, Second," the soft-spoken voice said. "I suppose it couldn't hurt to let you see me, though."

And from the shadows walked an unfamiliar stick figure. Their hex code was gray, dark enough that they almost looked like the Chosen One's twin, but their animation was…janky, Orange supposed. Each of their frames was drawn as if it were a keyframe in and of itself, and their head seemed to change shape multiple times a second.

Squashing down the instinctive urge to offer to clean up their animation like one of Alan's creations, Orange scowled. "That's not my name."

"Hm," said the stranger with a noncommittal shrug.

"It's not!" Orange insisted.

The stranger chuckled. "Whatever you say."

Realizing they weren't gonna get anywhere with the whole 'name' thing, Orange shook their head. "Who even are you, and what are you talking about? Putting aside the whole 'you claim to know about the last time I saw the Chosen One' thing, who else could it have been? Last I checked, the internet wasn't exactly bursting at the seams with superpowered sticks."

"Oh, it's not," said the stranger mildly. "Think about it, Second. Who was there that day at the bay? Who could have been the one to ensure the Dark Lord could never go after you again? It wasn't the Chosen One, I can guarantee you that."

Orange felt a dawning horror rise up inside. "No…are you saying…?"

"That's it, think about it…" coaxed the stranger.

"…it was you?!"

The stranger froze for a moment, then burst out laughing.

Orange blinked. That didn't sound like the maniacal laughter of someone who'd led their prisoner to the right conclusion. That sounded like the full-bodied laughter of someone who-

"I can't believe this!" the stranger crowed. They laughed for a moment more, then quieted down to a few stray chuckles, wiping at their eyes as they calmed back down. "The information is all laid out in front of you, Second! For somebody usually so quick on their feet when the situation calls for it, you're being so slow today!"

Orange really didn't like the implication that this stranger had been watching them for who-knew-how-long.

"Think, Second, think! It was just you, the Chosen One, and the Dark Lord that day, and it wasn't the Chosen One who blasted the Dark Lord to kingdom come," the stranger pressed, their voice losing some of their nonchalance in favor of a hard edge.

If Orange had thought the idea of the stranger having that kind of power was horrifying, then what the stranger was proposing was…

"…insane. Y-you're insane," breathed Orange, stepping back from the bars.

"Please, don't insult both of our intelligence," the stranger drawled, taking a step closer. "Besides, wouldn't that make the Chosen One insane for going to you for aid? If anybody saw the Dark Lord's defeat in person and knew who was responsible, it would be them, after all."

Orange hated that they couldn't argue that point, and their gaze drifted to the side to look at the Chosen One again.

Still no visible response.

Orange really hoped they were at least unconscious, instead of awake and aware and unable to move. If they knew about whatever the stranger was talking about, but were forced to listen silently, it would probably be torture.

Orange had been lucky enough to be unaware when they'd been paused, but maybe it was different for the Chosen One.

"What makes you so special, hm?" The stranger's voice was low and dangerous now, and they circled slowly around Orange's cage with the sharp gaze of a predator. "What about you was so perfect that He let Himself be swayed in your favor when no one else was ever able to manage it?"

"Wha-? What are you talking about now?!" Orange demanded, desperately trying to keep the shakiness out of their voice as they turned to keep the stranger in their sights.

"I couldn't manage it," said the stranger instead of answering. "The Chosen One certainly couldn't, with or without the Dark Lord's assistance. And yet here you stand, you naive, idealistic child!"

Orange stumbled back as the stranger stormed up to the bars, glaring them down. "You have no idea the cruelty He's truly capable of, and yet you trust Him implicitly because…why? Because He plays with you?! Because He claims to enjoy your company?!"

"Who are you even talking about?!" shouted Orange, clenching their fists and taking a step forward.

"Oh, I think you know," hissed the stranger. "You remember those first few moments of sentience, don't you? You met your first four friends, and then you watched them die in front of you. I think you know exactly who I'm talking about."

Orange snarled as realization struck, and they rushed the bars with a bang. "DON'T YOU DARE TALK ABOUT ALAN LIKE THAT!"

"There we go," said the stranger with a smirk. "I knew you had to have a rational thought or two bouncing around in that hollow head of yours."

"It was just a misunderstanding!" Orange insisted, gripping the bars and glaring down the stranger with every ounce of venom in their body. "And he brought them back right after!"

"Oh, you innocent little kid," the stranger cooed poisonously. They leaned in close enough to take up most of Orange's vision.

Orange kept themself from shaking, but it was a near thing.

The stranger tilted their head.

"Did you really think that was the first time He'd ever tried to kill a stick figure?"

Time seemed to freeze.

Orange couldn't stop it as their eyes went wide.

"He didn't bring them back out of the goodness of His heart," said the stranger in a voice so quiet it made Orange's ears ring. "He brought them back because He knew you could make His life a living hell if He didn't. You hold the power within you to destroy His PC in a blink, and you're only kept in check by the continued existence of your friends. The decision to bring back your friends wasn't an ethical decision. It was pure and simple logic, fueled by His past experiences with superpowered sticks, a group which you certainly belong to."

"That's…that's wrong. You're lying!" Orange breathed. "He wouldn't, he couldn't-!"

"Am I?" asked the stranger coldly. "Because last I checked, Second, He did, and for no other reason than the fact that He could."

"…shut up."

"Hm?"

"I SAID SHUT UP!" Orange slammed an arm against the bars, making them rattle and creak. "ALAN'S NOT LIKE THAT, YOU'RE LYING YOUR LINEART OFF TO GET IN MY HEAD, AND MY NAME ISN'T SECOND! I'M ORANGE! ORANGE ORANGE ORANGE!"

The stranger seemed taken aback, then they smiled with all edges and no sincerity. "Of course you are, little Second Coming. You're Orange, and I'm the Vengeful One, and neither of those are actually our names, simply accurate descriptors for who we want to be."

Orange took a shaky breath, but before they could gather their thoughts and try to process all of THAT-

"Pause them," ordered the Vengeful One into a walkie-talkie they pulled from their hammerspace. "Talking is going nowhere. I think we should take our guest to the Viewing Room."

Orange only had a fraction of a second to worry about what they would be 'viewing' before the world went dark.

[bloby-876]

<<Prev Next>>

Well you've committed. You do your best to respond while sounding like Gwen, a high pitched and squeaky hm coming out of your mouth and shaking your head as if the lady can see you..... How have you not gotten caught yet?

"Mm-Mmm!"

"Where are you!?"

The lady sounds frustrated, turning her head to the room to look for Gwen, who still isn't here right now!

"Here!"

'Act natural act natural-'

There's a blue cloak on the chair you've been leaning on so you pick it up and hide behind it. Huh, it's pretty soft!

"It means I'm going by myself."

You risk a peak through the neck hole of the cloak, checking to see if the lady is looking your way. The coast seems clear so you try your best to leave as quietly as possible. Then you can put this behind you and act like nothing happened!

"I need some help with this fastening."

'FUCK'

"Gwen?"

You panic for a second until a voice pops up behind you.

"I'm here!"

You spin around quickly and thank the gods Gwen is here!! The wave of relief is nearly overwhelming. You make a mental note to get Gwen something as a thank you.

She mouths a confused 'what are you doing here?' at you and you do your best to explain as quietly as possible.

You smile at eachother, she looks amused and you're relieved. You give her a little wave and leave as quickly as possible with a feeling that she's mentally laughing at your misfortune.

Now time to go back to gaius and never think of this again!

---

'Wow. So this is what a banquet looks like...' you think to yourself while trailing behind Gaius. This single room is so much bigger than your house in Eleador-

The food looks delicious! As you're staring, you hear some hushed whispering and laughter on the other side of the table. Ugh, it's Arthur. It sounds like they're talking about you? Who would have guessed that the prince of Camelot would remember your name!

... hopefully that doesn't have any repercussions later.

Not a minute later walks in the Lady Morgana. She's stunning and definitely knows it, judging by the way everyone can't help but stop and stare for a moment. You can't help but wonder about the darkly colored dress from before. She walks past you and your eyes can't help but follow her.

Then the moment is ruined by Gaius scolding you lightly.

"Merlin. Remember, you're here to work!"

"Right, sorry."

Your eyes follow her up until the prat walks up to her, talking about something you're too far to hear. Gwen stops by to chat.

"She looks great, doesn't she?" She really does. Is it just you or does Gwen sound nervous?

"yeah.."

"Some people are just born to be queen!" Gwen sounds proud. She did tell you that they are quite close. Even so, that sentence makes you pause for a moment.

"Perhaps." You respond, considering. You're not too familiar with the Lady Morgana. She has to be better than the other royal, though. If Gwen likes her.

"I hope so. One day. Not that I'd want to be her. Who'd want to marry Arthur?"

That thought makes you snort lightly. Honestly, with that personality? You already feel bad for whoever has to marry that dollophead in the future..

"oh? I thought you liked those real rough, tough, save the world kind of men." You flex your non-existent muscles as a joke but Gwen buts in, looking a bit nervous.

"No, I like much more ordinary men like you."

The word 'ordinary' makes you uncomfortable in a way that you can't quite explain. But hey, Gwen said she likes you! That's a good thing, right?

"..thanks."

You look away from each other awkwardly.

---

Not too long after, celebratory horns ring out into the hall, signaling King Uther's entrance. He gives a short speech, introducing the lady Helen and then sits down with the rest of the court. Seeing her makes you cringe internally, remembering your earlier interaction.

She walks in slowly, beginning her performance. The song is not one you recognize, but you feel your eyes begin to grow heavy.

'That's odd..'

You look around the room, trying to keep yourself awake and notice the other people in the room begin to nod off. It clicks suddenly and you quickly press your hands against your ears, blocking the sound. In literally any other circumstance you would be very excited but she is definitely not a friend.

The room grows darker as she gets closer, cobwebs sprouting all over the table and the people. The sorceress has her eyes locked on to arthur, pulling out what is likely a knife and is aiming for the prince and you have to do something-

The chandelier right above her catches your eye and you don't think about it. A quick flash of gold and it falls directly on the sorceress, cutting off her song.

You flinch at the loud noise, staring at the woman who was disguised as the Lady Helen. Its the old lady who's son burned for practicing magic. The day you came to Camelot.

The people begin rousing a few seconds later. Pulling off cobwebs from their bodies, muttering confusedly.

The King and the Prince stand, staring at the woman. Just as the king opens his mouth to shout an order, she suddenly jolts up. Just enough to throw the dagger at the Prince.

It feels like everything has slowed down a fair amount. Although that might have been your doing-

In the blink of an eye, the dagger lodges into the wood of arthur's chair. Directly where his heart would have been. And you are on the floor, still holding on. Because you have just saved his life.

Uther holds your shoulders, thanking you. His eyes are genuine and the irony is not lost on you. He rewards you with the position of the Prince's manservant and the crowd cheers.

Even with the shock still clouding your mind, you look away from the prince, slightly upset at the fact that you'll probably be stuck with him until he inevitably fires you.

Gwen catches your eye with a pitying smile.

---

"Seems you're a hero," Gaius comments as they enter his chambers.

"Seems like it," you respond, your mind elsewhere.

"you did a good thing today, Merlin. I saw how you saved Arthur's life."

Ah. The magic. Of course he saw. There is a short pause where Gaius moves some books from his shelf, eventually getting what seems to be another book. Its wrapped in cloth for some reason?

You unlatch it instinctively. Revealing a book of-

"This is a book of magic," you breathe. Suddenly aware of what you're holding. Gaius places a hand on the book, pressing it closer to Merlin.

He looks you in the eyes, stressing the importance of his words. "Which is why you must keep it hidden. Perhaps, this may help you establish some control."

You look back at him, eyes glistening. "I will study every word."

He gives you a soft, fond smile.

The moment is ruined by someone knocking at the door. "Merlin! Prince Arthur wants you right away."

Ugh.

---

(The poll is blank because it's going to make a decision for another character, not Merlin)

[slashthrashandcrash]

My tire blew out today. The towman, for whatever reason, kept getting my location wrong and the road rangers were my knights in shining honor when they stumbled upon my car on patrol. Then, the tow arrived and was driving after me after they put in the spare tire, calling out that his ride was still free. Now, if this was late at night and the highway was suspiciously empty, which slashers / killers do you think would be after me and how could I fight them off? The tow guy is, of course, no help

This sounds so funny as a time sensitive question like "I'm not saying I am stranded on a desolate road with no help for miles but if I were how could I possibly fend of a serial killer that's banging on my car window? Please respond, asking for a friend."

Danny/Ghostface would certainly be an option if he was already on the move between towns or states, just a nice young man wanting to help get you somewhere safe and accidentally making a few wrong turns...then next thing you know, you're set loose to run free through the woods while he tails you, knife in hand. Your best option is to hope you find the main road before he finds you, but even then you'd have to pray there's even another motorist driving at this hour who'd be willing to stop at your distress. Just because you were stupid enough to get in a car with a stranger doesn't mean they are lmao.

The Sinclair brothers are a classic, of course -- that's kind of their whole schtick is helping out poor stranded motorists, offering to fix up their car while they come on into town for a spell, maybe check out the local wax museum to kill some time. Gotta be honest, your odds probably aren't that great since it's a 3v1...you might just have to grab a tire iron and start swinging if you want a fighting chance.

Michael can drive but he's a fucking menace on the road, he'll be ramming into you and trying to slam you off into a ditch or the median. You need to either outpace him or hopefully lose him with a few sharp turns, otherwise you'll be battered and trapped when he gets a tire to blow out or your transmission to die. Being wounded in a metal cage is the last place you wanna be when he comes stalking over to your wreckage. Although, he might more so be targeting the tow driver behind you, they usually wear those navy coveralls...

And there's a few more typical slashers who have a similar con to the Sinclairs; the Firefly family, the Sawyer family, whatever the cannibal inbred family's name was in The Hills Have Eyes -- these cases? 100% fucked. If you don't floor it and get the hell out of dodge the first second you spot any of 'em on the side of the road, you've practically sealed your fate. And it won't be pretty, or sexy, or fun. For you, anyways.

For a bit of gaslight gatekeep girlboss, Tiffany Valentine. For no reason other than you're practically alone on the quiet roads and she's bored. Just a quick little fender bender and then her nail file across your throat. Frankly, you should be honored to be killed by her, just let it happen, say thank you with your gurgling dying breath. Throwback to Urban Legend, but also Brenda. Who doesn't love a good story about flashing highbeams in the rearview mirror? You're golden if you remember how the legend goes and how the girl survives (even if the killer isn't the one in your backseat), or better yet, just don't flash your lights when you see her driving in the dark in the first place.

Purely DBD killers though, I'd really only pick out Legion, namely because they would have plenty of reasons to target you. They want your car, your money if you have it, and hell, they'll go ahead and take your life while they conveniently have it. The bad news is it's 4v1, the good news is they're all stupid teenagers. You have a 50/50 chance of being able to either outsmart them or just fend them off long enough to escape, but don't be surprised to find 4 different blades in your gut because you refuse to cooperate with their robbery.