#i'm gonna write this at some point i know i will
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bluem1lls · 2 days ago
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hi hi ! i saw your post about wanting some se-mi requests and i was wondering on how se-mi would react to having a s/o that tends to zone out / dissociates during the games whenever they're parted from se-mi / can't stay near her because it causes their separation anxiety </3 like it's a way for the reader to feel less anxious or stressed and the reader seems to lighten up whenever they're near se-mi or notices she's alive , sorry if that's alot ! 😭
✧₊�� we'll go home (together)
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se-mi x fem!reader
✦ synopsis: as you try to survive the games with your girlfriend, you can't help but to dissociate when she's not nearby. lucky for you, she never wants to leave your side.
content: just a short fluff, reader usually zones out when she's not with se-mi
authors note: thank you for the request! it's rlly short because i'm writing this at my office bye i have dedication!!!!!! but i hope u like it!
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✧₊⁺ first of all, your girlfriend would never leave you alone. like ever. i think she would die if that happened.
✧₊⁺ but there's this one situation in mingle where you guys were running along with min-su as a group of three and in the rush, someone pushed her.
✧₊⁺ when you saw her on the ground you almost choke yourself. what if she dies? what if that hurted her head? what if she can't move to run with a group? what if-
✧₊⁺ as you start to hyperventilate you try and run to your gilfriend, failing as min-su pushes you into a room with another guy and closes the door.
✧₊⁺ "hey, i saw her. she got up and ran with another group. she's okay" he said, touching your shoulder.
✧₊⁺ you won't believe him until you see her.
✧₊⁺ you start to dissociate. you can see min-su talking but you can't hear him. your mind filled with thoughts. 'i hope she's okay. she better be okay'.
✧₊⁺ tears start falling from your eyes because what kind of girlfriend are you? leaving her there? it was an accident but-
✧₊⁺ the doors unlock. you run outside as you stare everywhere.
✧₊⁺ she's not here. she's not here. she died. min-su lied-
✧₊⁺ you feel soft arms wrapping you, she deposits a kiss to your temple.
"i'm here baby" she says as you hug her back, your tears going down your cheeks.
"i'm-m so so sorry i'm so sorry...i tried but-" i sobbed against her, her hand caressing my hair to try and calm me.
"sh sh, baby i know. i told min-su to pull you away. i'm here okay? i'm never leaving you"
you believe her. she better not.
✧₊⁺ you're just so used to her, you kinda forgot how it is when she's not there.
✧₊⁺ like the first time you two sleep together, she wakes up first, smiling as she sees you all comfy. she kisses your entire face. when she's done, she gets up, heading to talk with the guys until you wake up. she thinks you'll wake up and follow her, after all you know that when she's not with you, she's with her friends.
until she thinks it's been a little too much time. she starts to worry, going back to your bed.
she finds you there, staring at a blank point on the wall.
"baby?"
you lift your head, she's back!
your face lightens up, a soft smile appearing.
"i missed you" you say as she smirks, getting closer to you. your face in her hands, softly kissing your lips.
"good morning princess, what's wrong? i was waiting until you wake up but i got worried. it's been a while." she frowned.
"i thought you.. left or something" i mumble as her face scans my features. a hint of worry through her eyes.
"baby, what?-" she says, shocking her head no. "no princess i'd never leave you, wherever i go, you come with"
i nod as she kisses my lips again and again.
"i love you"
"i love you princess"
✧₊⁺ of course, when the fourth game comes and it's an individual one, you're shaking.
✧₊⁺ she's too, she just doesn't want you to see it, or it'll make you more nervous.
✧₊⁺ "it's okay baby, this is our last game and then we vote to leave okay? its the last time you're gonna be appart from me. i swear" she says, hugging me as i return it, squeezing her.
it's hard to focus when you're not with her, but you try to get past it. after all, if your girlfriend comes out and you don't, she'll be heartbroken. you don't want that.
✧₊⁺ finally, you made it through. as you're out of the room, you sit there waiting for her.
of course she comes a few minutes later with a smug smirk. she's so cocky.
as she sees you, her face lightens up.
and as you see her, you get up to run to her arms.
✧₊⁺ she kisses you with a soft chuckle.
"what did i said? together. i bet you did so good, my pretty girl" she says smiling.
✧₊⁺ you think you might melt right there and then. you nod, never leaving her arms.
"can we go home now?" you say as she nods.
"let's vote and go home".
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writingbuckets · 2 days ago
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𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐭 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞: 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐯𝐢𝐢
paige bueckers x podcaster!reader
wc: 3.7k
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a/n: and we're backkk! there's only a few parts left to this fic, so i've started to write out the beginnings of new fics, specifically some one shots, so anticipate those. requests are open as i'm searching for some new one shot ideas <3
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The late afternoon sunlight poured through the wide windows of Paige’s apartment, bathing the living room in a warm, golden hue that softened everything it touched. The air smelled faintly of something savory—garlic and herbs, maybe—and the sound of soft music playing from a speaker on the counter added a lazy, tranquil ambiance to the space. The place felt like her—equal parts cozy and effortlessly inviting.
You were curled up on her oversized couch, legs tucked beneath you, scrolling idly through your phone, though you weren’t really paying attention to the screen. Most of your focus was on Paige, who moved around the kitchen with an ease that only came from familiarity. She’d kicked off her sneakers hours ago, padding barefoot across the tile floor, opening and closing drawers like she already knew where everything was.
“Are you sure you don’t want help?” you called, tilting your head to get a better look at her.
Paige glanced back over her shoulder, strands of her blonde hair escaping from the now loose bun she’d tied the day before. She was wearing one of her UCONN hoodies, the fabric fitted to her frame, the hem brushing her hips. Beneath it, her pajama pants, relaxed and slouching slightly, added to the casual, cozy vibe she exuded, making it clear that she was at ease in the moment, her usual confident exterior softened by the comfort of her home. The look was casual and unintentional, but she somehow managed to make it distractingly appealing.
“Nope,” she replied, her lips quirking into a smug smirk that made her dimples appear. She lifted a knife and pointed it in your direction playfully before turning back to the cutting board. “I’ve got this. Just relax, superstar.”
You rolled your eyes at the nickname, though you couldn’t stop the grin that spread across your face. It was a teasing moniker she’d given you after you’d shared the news about landing a sponsorship for your podcast, and she’d been insufferable about it ever since. “I don’t know if watching you struggle to chop vegetables counts as relaxing,” you quipped, leaning your head against the back of the couch to watch her work.
Paige gasped in mock offense, clutching a hand dramatically to her chest. “Wow. The disrespect. In my own home, no less!”
You laughed, setting your phone down on the coffee table. “Okay, Chef Bueckers. Go ahead and impress me.”
Paige gave you a mock salute, her grin widening. “Don’t worry. By the end of this meal, you’re gonna feel so bad for doubting my skills that you’ll be begging me to cook for you every night.”
“Big words for someone who just fumbled a clove of garlic two minutes ago,” you teased, crossing your arms as you leaned into the corner of the couch.
She muttered something under her breath, turning back to the counter with a shake of her head. “Don’t worry about what happened with the garlic. That’s in the past now.”
You couldn’t help but laugh, the sound bouncing off the walls and mixing with the quiet music. The ease between you two was palpable, and it filled the space with a sense of lightness you’d grown increasingly fond of. It was amazing how natural it all felt—how seamlessly you’d slipped into this routine of spending time at her place, teasing her from the couch while she experimented with new recipes.
Occasionally, she glanced over at you, her smirk softening into something more affectionate. You caught her looking once, and she quickly turned back to the cutting board, pretending to be overly focused on dicing an onion.
“You know,” you said, a grin tugging at your lips, “if you keep staring at me, we might not get to eat until midnight.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Paige shot back, though the faint blush creeping up her neck betrayed her.
“Sure,” you replied, stretching out on the couch with an exaggerated yawn. “Take your time, Chef. I’ll just starve quietly over here.”
Paige laughed, the sound warm and genuine. “Keep talking, and I might just burn your food on purpose,” she said, tossing a sliced pepper onto the cutting board with a flourish.
“Wow, threatening your guest? That’s bold.”
“You’re not a guest,” she countered, her voice softening in a way that made your chest tighten. “You’re... you know.”
The way she trailed off, the weight of the unspoken words hanging between you, caught you off guard for a moment. But then she glanced over her shoulder again, her smile small but genuine, and the tension in the air shifted into something that felt more intimate than playful.
“You’re impossible,” you said quietly, though your tone held no real annoyance.
“And yet, here you are,” Paige replied, her smirk returning as she turned back to her work.
The scent of whatever she was cooking began to fill the apartment in earnest, rich and inviting. The golden hour light streaming in through the windows caught the edges of her hair, turning it almost honey-like in color, and for a moment, you forgot about the meal entirely, too caught up in watching her.
Paige, as usual, noticed. “Now you’re staring,” she said without turning around, her voice full of teasing smugness.
“Am not,” you shot back, though the warmth in your cheeks said otherwise.
“Caught in 4K,” she retorted, glancing at you over her shoulder with a grin that made your stomach flip.
You shook your head, laughing softly as you leaned back against the couch, letting the easy rhythm of the moment wash over you. If this was what life with Paige looked like, you couldn’t wait to see where it went next.
The past few months had been everything you didn’t know you needed. What began as slow steps into something new had quickly blossomed into a rhythm that felt effortless, as if this was where you were meant to be all along. The awkward tension of your first date, with its nervous laughter and overthinking, had melted away after that night, replaced by an ease that sometimes made you question if it was too good to be true. And yet, every time Paige looked at you with that lopsided grin or sent a teasing quip your way, you realized this wasn’t a dream—it was your reality.
You and Paige had settled into a flow that worked, balancing your busy schedules with the demands of her games and your growing podcast. It wasn’t always easy, but it was worth it. Early mornings were spent sharing hurried cups of coffee, and late nights often found you curled up on her couch or yours, laughing at something silly on TV or talking about nothing and everything. Somewhere in the middle of all that, you’d discovered how much you loved these quieter moments, the ones that felt suspended in time, like lazy afternoons when the rest of the world seemed to fade away.
Being with Paige had surprised you in ways you hadn’t anticipated. On paper, she was a phenomenon: the Paige Bueckers, basketball prodigy, fan favorite, and media darling. She was a star in every sense of the word, with a presence so magnetic it felt like it could pull the tide. But with you, she was just Paige. Goofy, thoughtful, endlessly witty, and endearingly competitive about everything from who could open a jar faster to who had the better taste in music.
She was the kind of person who would call you at midnight just to tell you she’d heard a song on the radio that reminded her of you. She was also the kind of person who would take ten minutes to pick out the right snack from a convenience store and then tease you for your “unrefined” candy preferences. With her, everything felt easy—like finding the right piece to a puzzle you hadn’t realized was missing.
“You’re quiet,” Paige’s voice broke through your thoughts, casual but laced with curiosity as she worked at the counter.
You blinked, her words pulling you back to the present. She hadn’t turned around, too focused on her task, but somehow, she always knew when your mind wandered. “Just thinking,” you replied, trying to play it cool.
Paige glanced over her shoulder, a knowing smile tugging at her lips. “Thinking about what? Or should I say… who?”
“Wow, conceited much?” you shot back, trying to ignore the slight flush that crept up your neck.
Her grin widened as she turned fully, holding up a cutting board with half of a neatly sliced pepper. “Just admit it,” she said, her tone smug.
“I wasn’t thinking about you,” you lied, though your cheeks betrayed you.
“Oh, really?” Paige placed the cutting board down and leaned against the counter, crossing her arms. The playful glint in her eyes made it clear she wasn’t letting this go. “So, what was it? World domination? Your podcast’s next big scoop? Which player’s sneakers squeaked the loudest during the last game?”
You laughed despite yourself, shaking your head. “None of the above. I was thinking about…” You trailed off for dramatic effect.
“About?” she pressed, leaning in slightly as if your answer were life or death.
You smirked, deciding to turn the tables. “About how you always insist on using the tiniest cutting board in existence for way too many vegetables. Seriously, do you not own a bigger one?”
Paige gasped, clutching a hand to her chest in mock offense. “This cutting board and I have history! Don’t disrespect it.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize I was insulting a family heirloom,” you teased, folding your arms across your chest.
“It practically is,” she shot back with a grin. “We’ve been through a lot together. College dorm meals, team dinner cooking fails… it’s seen things, Y/N.”
You raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. “And yet it’s still too small.”
Paige laughed, pushing off the counter and returning to her task, her shoulders shaking with amusement. “One day, I’ll upgrade. But until then, this little guy gets the job done.”
“Barely,” you quipped, earning another laugh from her.
She reached for a pan, humming softly to the tune playing throughout the apartment. Watching her like this—barefoot in her hoodie, completely at home in her own space—made your chest ache in the best way. 
“Careful,” you said, trying to sound nonchalant. “You might actually impress me with your cooking skills.”
She glanced over her shoulder, a smirk tugging at her lips. “Oh, I will. And when I do, I expect a full public apology for all the trash-talking you’ve done about my culinary expertise.”
You snorted. “Culinary expertise? Paige, I’ve seen you eat cereal straight from the box because you didn’t want to wash a bowl.”
“That’s called efficiency,” she shot back, turning her attention back to the stove. “You wouldn’t understand.”
The playful banter filled the space, bouncing off the walls with an energy that contrasted beautifully with the softer, quieter moments you shared. It was hard not to feel light in moments like this, when everything about her felt so natural and unguarded. Paige had a way of making the world feel a little less heavy, a little more vibrant, just by being herself.
“Paige,” you said softly, your voice cutting through the comfortable silence.
She glanced over her shoulder, her expression shifting from playful to attentive in an instant. “Yeah?”
“I was just thinking…” You hesitated, suddenly feeling self-conscious.
Paige turned off the burner and set the spoon down, giving you her full attention. She leaned against the counter, her arms crossing loosely over her chest. “That sounds serious,” she teased gently, though her tone was laced with genuine curiosity.
You smiled, trying to push past the nervous energy bubbling up. “It’s not, really. Just… us. How this feels.”
Her eyes softened, the teasing completely gone now. She pushed away from the counter and walked over to the couch, dropping down beside you. “What about it?” she asked, her voice quieter now.
You fiddled with the hem of your shirt, searching for the right words. “I guess I didn’t expect it to be this easy. Being with you.”
Paige tilted her head, watching you closely. “Easy in a good way, I hope?”
You nodded quickly, laughing softly. “Yeah, in a really good way. I mean, I knew you’d be funny and smart and all that. But I didn’t think…” You trailed off, suddenly shy under her gaze.
“That I’d be this irresistible?” she offered, a smirk tugging at her lips, though her eyes betrayed her vulnerability.
“Obviously,” you shot back, rolling your eyes. Then you sobered, reaching out to take her hand. “I didn’t think I’d feel this comfortable. Like we’ve been doing this forever.”
Paige’s fingers curled around yours, her grip warm and steady. “Same,” she admitted. “I was worried at first, you know? That I’d mess things up or… that maybe it’d be too much.”
Your brows furrowed. “Too much?”
She shrugged, her thumb brushing absently over your knuckles. “With basketball, the attention… my life isn’t exactly low-key. I didn’t want that to make things harder for you. But you’ve just… you’ve handled everything so well.”
You squeezed her hand, your chest tightening at her honesty. “Paige, I knew what I was signing up for. And yeah, maybe it’s not the most ‘normal’ relationship, but it’s ours. And I wouldn’t trade that for anything.”
Her smile was small but radiant, the kind that made your stomach flip. “You’re something else, you know that?”
You leaned in, resting your forehead against hers. “Right back at you.”
For a moment, neither of you said anything, the silence filled only by the soft hum of the kitchen appliances. Then Paige shifted slightly, her free hand brushing against your cheek.
“I’m glad we’re doing this,” she murmured, her voice almost a whisper.
You pulled back just enough to meet her gaze. “Me too.” 
Her eyes softened, and before you could say another word, she leaned in, closing the small distance between you. Her lips brushed yours gently at first, a soft, lingering kiss that seemed to hold everything unspoken between you. The warmth of her lips sent a shiver through you, and as she deepened the kiss, everything around you seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you in that quiet moment. It was slow, tender, the kind of kiss that told you more than words ever could, words you desperately wanted to say. When you finally pulled away, your breath was shallow, and the world outside felt a little less important.
Paige smiled, her thumb gently tracing your bottom lip. “I meant that,” she whispered, her voice low and full of meaning.
“I know,” you replied softly, your hand instinctively finding her waist, pulling her just a little bit closer.
The look in her eyes was so tender, so full of affection, that you felt like you might melt under its weight. And you couldn't help but think that for all the unexpected twists and turns life had thrown at you, this—being here, with her—was exactly where you were meant to be.
Eventually, she slid a plate in front of you with a dramatic flourish. “Voilà,” she said, her voice dripping with mock sophistication. “A masterpiece, handcrafted by yours truly.”
You raised an eyebrow, eyeing the dish. “Looks edible,” you said, hiding your smile.
She gasped, feigning offense. “Excuse me? That’s not the enthusiasm I was hoping for. Where’s the applause? The standing ovation?”
You picked up your fork, taking a small bite to appease her. To your surprise, the food wasn’t just good—it was amazing. The flavors were rich and perfectly balanced, the kind of dish you’d expect at a nice restaurant, not from Paige’s kitchen.
Your eyes widened, and Paige immediately noticed. “I knew it,” she said triumphantly. “You love it. Go ahead, admit it.”
You tried to keep a straight face, but it was impossible. “Okay, fine. It’s good. Like, really good. How did you pull this off?”
Paige leaned against the counter, her smirk turning smug. “Told you I’m full of surprises, superstar.”
As you laughed, the late afternoon sun began to dip lower, casting the room in softer, golden hues. The conversation flowed effortlessly as you ate, touching on everything from her upcoming games to your plans for the next podcast episode. She listened intently as you spoke, her gaze warm and unwavering, and you found yourself marveling again at how easy it was to just… be with her.
When dinner was done, Paige stood and started clearing the plates, but you stopped her.
“Hey, you cooked. Let me handle this.”
She hesitated, then nodded. “Deal. But if you break one of my glasses, you’re banned from entering my kitchen forever.”
“Noted,” you said with a laugh, collecting the dishes.
By the time you’d finished tidying up the kitchen, the faint hum of the TV and the soft glow of the living room lights welcomed you back into the cozy space. Paige was sprawled out on the couch, one leg draped lazily over the armrest, she’d taken down her bun and her golden hair was tousled from running her fingers through it. She held the remote in one hand, scrolling through Netflix with a look of mild concentration.
Hearing your footsteps, she glanced up, her face breaking into a soft smile. “There you are,” she said, patting the empty space beside her. “Come here.”
You didn’t need to be told twice. Crossing the room, you sank into the cushions beside her, instantly enveloped by her warmth as she draped an arm over your shoulders and pulled you close. Your legs tangled together naturally, the scent of her familiar—clean and comforting.
“Miss me already?” you teased, resting your head against her shoulder.
“Always,” she shot back smoothly, her lips quirking into a grin as she pressed a quick kiss to the top of your head.
“What are we watching?” you asked, glancing at the TV, where the endless carousel of titles continued to scroll.
“Not sure yet,” she admitted, her thumb hovering over the remote. “But I’m vetoing any true crime. I don’t feel like sleeping with the lights on tonight.”
You laughed, snuggling further into her side. “Fair point. Let’s go with something cheesy, then. Rom-com or bust.”
“Rom-com it is,” Paige agreed, scrolling until she found a movie with a predictably charming cover: a couple laughing together in a picturesque park. She clicked play without much thought, settling back into the cushions with a contented sigh.
The movie began, its upbeat opening credits accompanied by a lighthearted soundtrack, but your attention drifted almost immediately. Instead of focusing on the predictable meet-cute unfolding on the screen, you found yourself drawn to the small, absentminded gestures Paige made—the way her fingers gently traced slow, lazy patterns along your arm, the way her chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm that matched the quiet calm of the moment.
You tilted your head to look up at her, catching the soft lines of her profile as she watched the screen. Her expression was relaxed, a faint smile tugging at the corners of her lips every time something particularly cheesy happened.
“What?” she asked, not looking away from the screen but clearly sensing your gaze.
“Nothing,” you replied, though the warmth spreading through your chest begged to differ.
Minutes passed like that, the comfort of her presence and the warmth of the room lulling you into a blissful haze. Then Paige’s voice broke the silence, softer now, almost hesitant.
“Hey,” she murmured after a while, her voice breaking the comfortable silence.
“Hmm?”
She shifted slightly, enough that you could feel her looking down at you. When you tilted your head up, her blue eyes met yours, and for a moment, she didn’t say anything. There was something searching in her gaze, like she was trying to find the right words.
“Can I tell you something?” she asked, her voice quieter now.
You nodded, your heart picking up slightly at the unexpected vulnerability in her tone. “Of course.”
Her fingers stilled against your arm, but her hand didn’t pull away. She took a breath, her chest rising and falling beneath your touch, before speaking. “I didn’t think… I didn’t think I could feel this way about someone.”
The weight of her words settled over you, heavy and full of meaning.
She continued, her gaze unwavering, as if grounding herself in your presence. “It’s like… no matter how crazy everything gets—basketball, the media, everything—you’re this constant. And I’ve never had that before. Not like this.”
Your throat tightened, emotion swelling in your chest. Paige wasn’t someone who opened up easily. She carried so much of the world on her shoulders, and yet here she was, baring a piece of herself that felt achingly real.
“I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy,” she said finally, her voice barely above a whisper.
Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you reached up, your fingers lightly brushing against her cheek. “Me neither,” you said softly, your voice thick with emotion.
She leaned into your touch, her eyes closing for a moment like she was savoring the weight of your hand against her skin. When she opened them again, the vulnerability in her expression was replaced by something softer—an undeniable warmth that made your chest ache in the best way.
“I mean it,” she said, her voice steady but still tender. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”
The words hit you with a force you hadn’t expected, and for a moment, you couldn’t find your voice. All you could do was shift closer, wrapping your arms around her as you buried your face against her shoulder.
Paige held you tightly, her hand finding its place at the small of your back. Her lips brushed against your temple, lingering there as if to ground herself in the moment.
“I don’t think I could do this without you,” she murmured.
You pulled back slightly, just enough to look at her. “You could,” you said firmly, though your voice trembled with the weight of your own emotions. “But I’m glad you don’t have to.”
A slow, grateful smile spread across her face, and she leaned forward, pressing her forehead against yours. The space between you felt almost sacred, the air charged with unspoken promises.
The movie played on in the background, forgotten as you stayed like that, wrapped in each other’s arms. The world outside could wait. For now, all that mattered was this moment, and the quiet, unshakable love that filled the space between you.
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holdmytesseract · 2 days ago
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Hii! It’s me again, back at it with another request (your writing is just so good! I can’t get enough of it).
So this is another dad!Daryl one, one where the reader is pregnant. So we know that some of the Saviours in season 9 didn’t particularly like Daryl because of everything that happened. What if a couple of the Saviours cornered the reader and kidnapped her, taking her to some place to keep her in. Daryl, naturally, is seeing red and will do just about anything to get her back. Angst with a happy ending.
Love you if you write this, love you if you don’t! 💜
What I do, I do for You
Daryl Dixon x fem!Reader
Summary: When two Saviors kidnap you - Daryl's pregnant wife - in order to score him off, the archer sees red and does everything to safe you... Everything.
Set in Season 9!
Warnings: Lots of bad stuff is happening, so please act with caution! usual TWD stuff, a lot of angst, pregnancy stuff, violence, blood, character death, murder, brief mentions of rape, FLUFF, Justin & Jed (yep, they're a warning), please tell me if I missed something!
Also, protective!Daryl alert. He goes absolutely feral.
Word Count: 6.9k
a/n: @dixons-sunshine I really hope that I could do your request justice. 🙏🏼 I loved to write it and tried to give my absolute best. 🧡
EoH Masterlist °☆• Daryl Masterlist °☆• Masterlist
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"Ya sure 'bout that?" Your husband asked with a tinge of concern and fear in his voice. "Ya really wanna come?" You gave him a smile and stepped closer; invading his space. "Positive. I am drop-dead serious about it," you announced and raised your hands to his chest; adjusting the lapels of his angel-winged vest. "I absolutely hate it when you're away and I'm alone in Alexandria... Especially now..." Your gaze fell onto your yet small baby bump; Daryl's blue-greyish eyes following.
He couldn't suppress the soft smile on his lips, neither the quickening of his heartbeat. The man who had lost more in his whole life than he had won, had still a hard time to believe that he actually wasn't dreaming. That this was real. You. The 'wedding band' around your ring finger. The life he was granted to spend with you. Or hence, the new life growing inside you. Him, becoming a father. It was too good to be true. Daryl had to pinch himself on a regular basis, and still questioned himself how a man like him deserved something so precious. Luckily, you were always here to erase the bad thoughts ghosting through his mind... And to remember him how valuable he was to you - and to all the people around you whom you called family.
"A'right. 'M gonna take ya with me to the Sanctuary. Yer maybe right. Best way ta protect ya 's keepin' ya close to me I s'ppose," he agreed in the end and leaned forward to bestow a lingering kiss on your forehead. You smiled. "Thank you so much, baby. You won't regret it, I swear."
"I know, sunshine," he finally answered; his voice huskily with emotion. From the both hands resting on your hips traveled one to the front of your body; gently cupping the bump which was his child. "But 'm not sure..." You pouted. "Please, Dar... I don't want to miss you... And we both know I'd be the safest within your presence."
The archer chewed on the inside of his bottom lip for a long moment; contemplating his next words.
Oh, how wrong the both were going to be...
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Barely two days later, you and Daryl made your way to the Sanctuary. Not on his bike, though. The archer had made that clear the moment you and him left the basement apartment you called home. "Hell nah. We ain't takin' the bike. 'S outta question. 'Specially in yer condition," your husband had said, causing you to roll your eyes with a smile. Sure, you understood him and got his point, but you were also aware that this wasn't a 'condition'. You were pregnant. Not sick. And besides, not even that far along. About four months was Siddiq's guess.
Of course, you hadn't even tried to reason with the archer; knowing already that you'd fight a battle you couldn't win. So, you had followed him without a word to one of Alexandria's cars - certainly not horse; Daryl would rather walk than riding on a horseback, even if it would take him days to get to his destination on foot - and were now comfortably seated in the passenger seat. Daryl steered the car to the place you actually still despised deep down in your heart; not having forgotten the things Negan and the Saviors had done. What they had taken and almost took from you.
A few former Saviors were out and about. Most of them tending to the crops and other things planted in the makeshift gardens. The lot of them greeted you and Daryl with respect; some even gave a smile, but others... If looks could kill. The coldness and hate in theirs eyes sent a shiver down your spine. Of course you knew that some Saviors didn't quite... appreciate the mercy you showed them, neither the things you did for them. They were still hanging on to Negan. Daryl knew as well - and he didn't tolerate them. Unfortunately, he had to. At the end of the day, he bent and listened to his brother; being faithful and loyal.
You passed by lots of beautiful places on your way; proofs that mother nature had taken back what belonged to her. But you also saw a lot of rotting corpses trudging and staggering down the abandoned streets, meadows and woods. Life and death battling over the world domination. Nobody would've seen it coming that the line between decay and reincarnation was going to be that thin at some point - and here we were.
"Ya a'right, sunshine?" Daryl's deep, but comforting and definitely slightly worried voice urged suddenly to your ears. You blinked and tried to refocus again. You didn't notice that you had your head in the clouds; lost in thoughts. Neither did you notice that Daryl had parked and turned off the engine of the car. "Uh, yeah, sure. Sorry. Just spaced out a bit." Daryl nodded and gave you a last look, before he opened the car door and moved to get out of his seat. "C'mon. We're here."
It was strange to be back at the Sanctuary. Only the mere look at the huge, old factory caused an uneasy feeling to spread within your stomach. And you could tell that Daryl wasn't quite at ease either. How could he? After all he had to go through here... After all the traumatizing experiences...
"Daryl." A blond woman approached the two of you. Your eyes scanned her face; realizing that you knew her. Laura - if you remembered correctly. The archer jutted his chin into her direction; silently addressing her. The both of them started to talk. Something about the crops and an incident with a 'living' walker as a scarecrow. You didn't pay fully attention to your husband and the former Savior, since you could clearly feel a pair of eyes on you. In search for them, you looked to your left; meeting eyes with a man. Tall, longer black hair and a beard. He was quite a few yards away from you but you could clearly tell that he was the one watching you.
You blinked and waved it off. It was most likely 'cause he had never seen you before.
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"Let's get our stuff inside. 'S gettin' dark soon." Your husband's voice caused you to redirect your attention. "Yeah..." You nodded; still a bit absentmindedly, and followed Daryl inside the building.
He led you down several corridors, until you reached a spacious room with a bed, attached bathroom and a few other basic things. While Daryl put down his backpack and your bag alongside his beloved crossbow, you sat down on the bed; feeling a dull ache in your feet. "Ya okay, darlin'?" Of course, Daryl noticed immediately. His senses seemed to be even sharper since you told him about the pregnancy. You nodded. "Sure, Dar. Just some swollen feet." He gave you one of those cute, little smiles you adored so much. "Guess yer in for a foot rub tonight then."
It was the fourth day you spent at the Sanctuary. Daryl tried his best to be around you as much as somehow possible, but unfortunately, there was a lot of work to do for the 'leader'. So, you just decided to stay around him. Luckily, you had a few books packed and you'd always find a comfortable seat - no matter where. You just felt safer when your husband was close, and you could tell that it was much appreciated by him that he could throw a watchful eye on you from time to time.
Daryl wasn't the only one who had his eyes on you, though... Day after day, you could feel the unpleasant stare of that man who already had watched you at the day you set foot here... Justin, like you got to know. He didn't let a single opportunity slip to eye you. It was highly uncomfortable and quite confusing. You didn't know why he was doing what he did. It wasn't like you knew each other. You never even had exchanged a single word! Yet he was always looking... And when you'd catch him, he just gave you a little smirk - what didn't make you feel any better.
After day two, you just accepted it and tried to brush it off and ignore it. You didn't dare to confront the man. If you weren't pregnant, you wouldn't have even give it a second thought and walked straight up to your 'stalker', but... You were pregnant and didn't want to risk anything.
And telling Daryl wasn't an option in your eyes either. He was already so occupied and definitely way more on edge now that he was back at this former hellhole. This wouldn't end well; you knew it.
"You gotta come! Reilly and Mark are fighting. They're yelling at each other like kindergartners!" Daryl scoffed. "Dun care. They can handle their shit alone." The Savior standing opposite you frantically shook his head. "Man, if you don't intervene, this is gonna escalate! They're gonna beat each other up - or worse! You know how they are!" The archer groaned and rolled his eyes. Unfortunately was that idiot right. He couldn't let this escalate, even if he didn't care if it did. He had silently promised Rick to keep this place sane and running, so... "Fine," he finally answered, and turned to you. "Ya gonna find the way alone, sunshine?" You nodded, and placed a hand on his chest with a soft smile. "Of course. Go. I'll be waiting for you in bed. I'm tired." Your husband nodded and gave your hip a soft squeeze; an apologizing look on his face. He didn't want to leave you alone - but knew he had to. Turning on his heel, he followed the Savior and vanished around the corner.
"Dixon!" You flinched at the sudden, unanticipated voice of a man echoing down the corridor you and Daryl just walked through. You were actually on your way back to your room; ready to call it a day. Well, apparently not...
The archer stopped and turned; you both witnessing Dean - a Savior, of course, sprint around the corner. "Dixon!" "Wha'?" Daryl snarled in annoyance. He have had enough of that day. All he wanted was to disappear in that room and not leave it - and you, until tomorrow.
"Hello, Y/N."
You sighed and gazed behind you down the empty corridor, as you felt a flutter within your belly. You smiled; placing a palm underneath your baby bump, which was well hidden since you wore way too big, but comfortable clothes from the day you got here. "I know, munchkin. Daddy's gonna be back soon. Let's go to bed. We could both use some sleep," you talked to your unborn baby quietly; the smile never leaving your lips.
Everything was eerily quiet. Well, no wonder. It was quite late and most of the Saviors were already sleep, you reckoned. Hopefully me too, soon, you thought; pushing down the door handle and opening the door to yours and Daryl's room. You switched on the light - thanks to the generators.
An unknown voice suddenly urged to your ears; causing you to flinch and almost stumble right back out of the room again. You spun around to seek out the origin of the voice; finding the man who had watched you for days sitting on that one chair in the corner of the room with a smirk on his face. You swallowed hard.
"Justin, right?" You tried to sound brave, even though you had a very uneasy feeling brewing within your gut. "What are you doing here? Can I, um, help you?"
Justin's smirk widened. "Oh yes, indeed. You can help me... Close the door, love. I wanna talk." You did what he said and slowly closed the door, but your hand kept gripping the handle - just in case.
"I have never see you before," he started. "Surely we both crossed paths before without knowing - blame it to the war." "Most likely, yeah..." You answered. Justin shook his head and let his eyes wander over your body again. You felt like a piece of meat. "You're a true sight for sore eyes, Y/N... What a shame..." You frowned. "Shame?" The black haired man nodded. "It's a shame you have such low standards and waste your time on a man like Dixon. You are his girl, aren't you?" Your frown deepened at his words; feeling anger bubble up inside you.
Just as you wanted to speak up, the Savior cut you off. "Or... Wait... Are you just his little toy? An occasional fuck? God, how pathetic," he laughed to himself. "What do you get in return? Protection? Food? A shelter? Or are you doing it for free? His dick that good?"
Your jaw almost dropped at the foul words leaving Justin's mouth. He definitely went to far. You've had enough. Nobody threw mud at Daryl like that. Nobody. You were not having it.
"I'm his wife! I-" "His wife?" Justin cut you off once more; laughing. "So this is some serious shit, huh? Wow... Never thought a guy like Dixon could pull such a hot girl like you. You're too good for him, you know," the man said with a dramatic sigh and pulled himself up from the chair. With calculated steps, he crossed the room - and the predatory smirk he wore on his lips, made you feel even more uneasy than you already felt. "You certainly deserve..." Justin licked his lips. "...better."
The Saviors eyes widened, "Fucking hell... He... He knocked you up?" and he laughed. "You're dumber than I thought." Justin shook his head; still smiling amused. "We're witnessing the fucking end of this shit show called life," he gestured around himself. "And you don't know better than get pregnant with that asshole's bastard child."
You swallowed hard and took a step back, feeling your back pressing against the door; grip on the handle still painfully tight. "N-No, I don't. Daryl is more than enough. H-He treats me right." "He treats you right?" Justin asked mockingly, "Aww, how cute." and chuckled. "What if I told you that other men could treat you so much better?" He whispered in a low voice and reached out a hand to cup your chin with his thumb and forefinger.
Your heartbeat quickened; pumping adrenaline through your whole body in fear. Your primal instinct to run already knocked against the door to your brain, but another instinct was stronger just yet... Protecting your baby. So, out of instinct, your free arm wrapped around your baby bump, before you could even stop yourself - and it didn't escape Justin's notice, of course. Your well kept secret suddenly wasn't a secret anymore.
The last sentence was the straw that broke the camel's back. Insulting the husband of an expectant mother wasn't wise. But insulting the child of an expectant mother was suicide.
It was the whistle which sealed your fate.
Before the rational part of your brain could intervene, did your palm already collide with Justin's cheek; slapping him hard.
A soft groan of pain left his lips as he stumbled back. His hand immediately rubbing the now stinging skin. "You bitch!" The Savior exclaimed angrily. "Alright, that's enough." Justin stomped back over to you and already reached out his hand to grasp your wrist, but your instincts kicked in again. This time, they told you to run. So, you did.
Quickly opening the door, you stormed outside and wanted to flee - but you unfortunately didn't get far.
Suddenly another Savior appeared in the corridor ahead of you - and you immediately stopped. Frantically turning around and searching reverently for a way to escape, you soon figured out that there was no way out. One man in front of you, Justin coming up behind you. And in the blink of an eye, you found yourself in the same situation like seconds earlier - just that it was way worse now. Pressed against the wall; trying to shield your unborn child from any possible harm and danger. "P-Please, don't p-please..." You begged for mercy, but it was no use. The men just laughed; having you cornered. "Not so brave anymore, are we?" Justin snickered. Tears stung your eyes. "T-The baby, p-please..." You whispered through tears; feeling your knees buckle and almost give in from underneath you. Silently, you prayed to every God and higher force, that Daryl would walk around the corner now.
He didn't.
"Get her. We're gonna make that asshole pay." It was the last thing you heard, before the other man lashed out. You felt a throbbing pain in your skull and within seconds went everything black.
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Grumbling in annoyance, Daryl made his way finally back to yours and his quarters. To solve the stupid, boyish conflict between those two primitive idiots took longer than he thought it would. It got him even more tired than he already was. All the archer wanted was to sleep with you safely in his arms.
However, when he reached your shared room he found the door ajar; causing his heart rate to quicken on an instant. Without wasting even a second, he literally stormed in - only to find the room empty and deafeningly quiet.
"Y/N?!" He called out, but didn't receive an answer. "Y/N?!" In a frenzy of panic, Daryl started to search for you. To his sheer horror, he couldn't find you. Fear and the nagging feeling of guilt and failure already eating away at him. He swore to protect you. You felt safe whenever he was around - and now he had failed you; failed to protect you and his unborn child. Whatever happened to you, Daryl could tell that it wasn't something good. This was the Sanctuary, after all. This hellhole was worse than what laid behind the gates.
Nevertheless, he hoped to find you unscathed, and that all of this was just a big misunderstanding.
Of course... He should've think of that. Jed was - among a few others - a Savior, who didn't quite like how things went down. Negan being defeated... Rick's plan to 'convert' them to be better people... Daryl taking over the Sanctuary... It didn't suit their plans. Daryl knew they hated it - and they hated him. So, why wouldn't Jed - or hence, any of them, do something to get at him? And what was the best way to inflict pain to somebody? Exactly. By hurting someone the person loves.
Life didn't treat the archer kind - of course. You were nowhere to be found. Not in the kitchens, the sanitary rooms, nor the common room; his next destination being the gardens.
"Daryl?" A female voice suddenly urged to his ears - not yours, though. So, he simply ignored it. "Daryl?" Laura stepped into his view. She was on watch and saw her visibly distraught 'leader'. "What the hell is wrong? You run around like a mad man. What are you looking for?"
The archer froze in his movements for a moment; breathing labored. "Y/N. Can't find 'er. Somethin' happened to 'er. Someone took 'er. I'm sure 'a it," he spoke in a low, deep voice. Threateningly. "Ya know somethin' I should know?" Eyes full of a anger were staring the Savior woman down. And Laura knew that this wasn't a version of Daryl you wanted to get yourself into a fight with.
"Not really, no, but..." She frowned; seemed to recall something in her memory. "I saw Jed hanging around in the hallway of your room this afternoon." The archer clenched his jaw.
He shouldn't have let you accompany him.
"Daryl?" Laura's voice ripped him out of his thoughts. The archer wanted to answer, but all he saw was red. He stormed off; driven by anger, fear and the urge to protect what was his - the most important one of the few good things in his life.
Without any unnecessary detours, Daryl went straight for Jed's room. Not even blinking, he barged through the door; slamming it shut behind him and causing the Savior, who was just about to get changed for the night to flinch badly. Jed spun around; his eyes landing on Daryl. "What the hell, Dixon?!" He complained; not noticing the hands of the archer, which were curled into fists, nor the rage in his blue-grey eyes. "Fuck off! This isn't your-" Before Jed was even able to finish his sentence, had Daryl already crossed the distance with three big steps and grabbed the Savior by the lapels of his shirt; pinning him against the wall. Sure, Jed was strong - but not as strong as the bulky archer. Plus, the momentum was clearly on Daryl's side, since he had caught him by surprise.
Daryl growled lowly in his throat. It wasn't a warning. It was a threat.
"What-" "Shut yer damn mouth 'n tell me where she is," Daryl growled; accentuating his words with pushing Jed a little harder and caging him entirely between the wall and his broad frame.
The man scoffed and pawed - in vain - at Daryl's bare forearms and the bulging veins and muscles located there; trying to free himself. "What the fuck are you talking about, Dixon?!"
"Ya ain't fuckin' with me, asshole. Ya know exactly what 'm talkin' about." His grip on Jed's shirt lapels tightened. "Where is my wife," Daryl punctuated every single word. The Savior glared into the archer's eyes for a moment, before he scoffed once again. "I have absolutely no clue where your little whore is! Perhaps she ran off and found a better dick than your-" Daryl had enough of the bullshit Jed was giving him. Without even letting him finish his sentence, Daryl pulled him away from the wall and threw him harshly to the hard ground. "Dun'cha dare talk about Y/N like tha'." His voice was deep and quiet, but not lacking with danger. "And now tell me where she is." "I told you, I don't know!" Jed tried to defend himself further, but Daryl knew he lied. He could feel it.
"A'right. Then we gonna do this the hard way," Daryl stated and lunged at Jed; fists connecting with the man's jaw and stomach. Jed fought back, of course, landing a few blows himself. Their bodies hit the floor multiple times. Blood flew, bones cracked and furniture got destroyed and wrecked as both men were fighting for the upper hand. In the end, though, had Daryl clear advantage over Jed. He was the more skilled and stronger fighter, and had the Savior snugly wrapped up in a chokehold. "'M gonna find 'er anyways," Daryl grunted; panting and being out of breath. "'N I dun care 'bout how many of yer assholes I gotta go through. I'll kill every damn one of ya if tha's what's it gonna take," he snarled and tightened his deathly grip around Jed's neck; his biceps bulging. "So, do yerself a damn favor 'n tell me where the hell she is!" "Fuck you!" was all Jed answered. The archer growled once again and squeezed, which caused the man to gasp and flail; helplessly trying to escape.
Only when Jed was on the verge of passing out, did he decide to finally cooperate. "Alright, alright!" He spluttered and choked. "I'm gonna tell you!" Daryl loosened his grip, and Jed frantically gasped for air. "S-She... She's in one... one of t-the cells..." The man coughed; still trying to get air back into his lungs.
The Savior didn't have to say more. Daryl knew what - or well, where he meant. "Try anythin' stupid, I'll kill ya," the crossbow-wielding archer warned Jed and gave him last death glare, before he left him on the floor in his room with bruises already forming on his neck.
This ain't 'bout me, damnit, he reminded himself. I gotta keep my wife 'n baby safe.
A lump formed in Daryl's throat as he made his way to the 'cells'. An area he thought he'd never ever in his life set foot in again. Being back at the Sanctuary was bad enough, but the mere thought of going there was even worse. It caused his stomach to flip. He could've thrown up all over the floor if he had let himself...
It still looked the same like back when he was imprisoned. The same way too squeaky clean floors. The same doors leading into the same rooms. The only difference was the infirmary, which had been moved to another part of the other building. But except that... Everything was the same. Daryl had to take a deep breath and close his eyes for a moment to keep his shit together and save himself from an approaching panic attack. His labored breath, shaky hands and the forming sweat on his skin a clear indicator.
"Y/N?" Daryl whisper-shouted; hoping to be close to you and receive an answer. He didn't. The archer had to go a little further to find you, and now that he was standing in front of one particular room with his heart almost breaking free of his ribcage; getting to know that it was locked as he twisted the door knob, realization dawned on him. Of course they'd lock her up here, Daryl thought as he eyed the way too familiar door. That was a part of the sick game they played.
With another deep breath, Daryl fought against the traumatic thoughts which wanted to push themselves to the forefront of his brain and shoved them aside; locking them away and focusing on you.
Precautionary, he freed his knife from its sheath and sneaked down the corridors; checking every room. After all, he didn't know who or what awaited him. Storming into this blindly wasn't probably the best idea, since he was convinced that Jed didn't do this alone.
Clenching his jaw, he had to fight another panic attack; even going as far to cut himself with the knife in his shaking hand, in the hopes that the pain would redirect the attention of his brain. A small grunt of pain escaped his lips as the red liquid dripped down his arm.
"H-Hello?"
His desperate action got interrupted by a soft, weak voice coming from the other side of the door; causing the archer's knife to clatter to the floor and a relieved, shaky breath to leave his throat.
"Y/N?!"
The answer came promptly.
"O-Oh my gosh, D-Daryl! I-It's locked, a-and I can't move, I-" "I know, sunshine, I know. Dun worry, 'kay? 'M goin' to get ya," he cut you off with the intention to calm you down. Taking a few steps back, he let the anger and rage take over his system once again and stormed forwards. The door might have been locked, but it definitely wasn't the same door like ten years ago. It had aged and got less stable, so when the archer's strong, bulky frame connected with the door, the lock gave in and the door busted open. Sure, it took him three tries and most likely cost him a bruised shoulder, but Daryl couldn't care less.
"C'mon. Let's getcha outta here 'n see a doctor. I ain't takin' any risks." Your husband shifted and gently slid an arm under your knees and around your back. "Hold on to me." You wrapped an arm around his neck, but shook your head. "Y-You don't have to do this, Dar. I can walk." "Nah," he stated, "I'm gonna do this. Yer hurt 'n pregnant." and lifted you carefully up to carry you bridal style. You didn't protest further. Why should you? He got a point after all...
The bright light from the corridor flooded the dark room and helping him to get a better look at you. You sat in the corner on the cold floor of the dark room. Your wrists and ankles were tied together with a thick rope - way too tight as he noticed, since he could see the material already cutting into your delicate skin. Tried blood was on the right side of your head.
Daryl's heart shattered into a million pieces, seeing you like this. Fear and concern coursed through his veins. "Y/N..." he whispered in a hoarse, broken voice and immediately dropped to his knees beside you, quickly freeing you off the too tight ropes, before one hand gently cupped your cheek, while the other found its way to your growing baby bump. "Ya both okay?! Ya hurt?! In pain?!" Tears of sheer relief gathered in your eyes; threatening to fall as you felt the gentle, loving touch of your husband and knowing that he was here with you. That he saved you.
"I-I'm okay... W-We are okay. Thanks to you," you breathed; smiling as tears rolled down your cheeks. It's been probably only hours since you lastly saw Daryl, but what had happened happened. The shock was profound.
The archer's eyes scanned your body thoroughly for any visible injuries. "Wha' 'bout yer head, sunshine?" "N-Nothing that can't be fixed," you stated and gazed deeply into his worried, loving eyes. "I'm s-so glad you found me. I-I was so afraid..." Daryl lowered his head to rest his forehead against yours. Your hands slipped behind his neck; tangling a few chestnut brown strands through your fingers. "Yeah, me too." Daryl's eyes fluttered shut, before his lips caught yours in a lingering, desperate kiss.
"Just Jed 'n Justin?" You nodded against his shoulder. "Justin waited for me in o-our room. He insulted you. S-Said I deserve better a-and..." You trailed off; feeling tears blurry your vision once again - but this time, it wasn't happy tears. "Ya dun have ta tell me, darlin'. Dun wanna pressure ya into talkin' 'a me." You swallowed hard and buried your face further in his shoulder and neck; "I-I want to tell you." inhaling deeply. Daryl's natural scent, mixed with leather and smoke filled your airways and - like always - had that soothing effect on you. "I-I think he was only a hairsbreadth away f-from raping me, but-" "Wha'?!" Daryl instantly cut you off. Every single muscle in his body tensed as he came to an abrupt halt. You could tell. "He didn't, Dar. I-I slapped him a-and tried to flee, but then there was J-Jed."
"Which one of those assholes did tha' to ya? Jed 'n who else?" Daryl asked in a drop-dead serious voice as he slowly made his way with you down the corridor. You swallowed hard; having to recall the horrible memory. "J-Justin."
Justin. One word - one name was enough to get Daryl's blood to a boiling point once again. He and that prick didn't get along from the very start - and this wasn't the first time the archer and Justin got in each other's ways... There had been a lot of situations where either of them was only a second away from beating the other up. Justin was - like Jed - one of those assholes who wanted Negan back. A Savior through and through.
The clattering sound of - most likely dishes urged to yours and Daryl's ears and managed to quickly redirect both your attention.
"'M gonna kill that sonofabitch," Daryl growled lowly under his breath, but you understood him anyway, of course. "Baby-" "Nah. Ya ain't gonna talk me outta this, Y/N," your husband stated firmly, while opening the main door to the building and stepped outside. Meanwhile, the sun had risen; fresh, crispy morning air hitting your bare arms.
"He's going to pay for tha'. He put you 'n our baby into danger. I ain't havin' tha'." "I know, babe, and you're right. He... He has to pay. But Rick's gonna-" "I dun care 'bout wha' Rick's gonna say. This ain't 'bout him. This' 'bout my family. We both know tha' he'd do the same in the end 'n-"
Justin stood a few feet away across from you and Daryl on the yard. What you had heard was indeed dishes breaking; the shards and content laying on the ground in front of the man. It looked like he had been just on his way to bring you some 'breakfast'. But now, the Savior stood frozen to the ground; eyes directed on you and Daryl. Your husband held his gaze, of course, and if looks could kill, Justin would've been dead already. You felt your archer's muscles tense once again, before he gently let you down. "Sit, 'kay? 'N stay there, please," he whispered and jutted his chin at a wooden bench. You did what he said and slowly walked backwards over to sit down; eyes never leaving both men.
The tension was literally cuttable with a knife as Justin and Daryl stared each other down. The archer out of pure hate and the Savior still in shock and in realization at failure of his plan. You knew this was going to escalate. Two 'alpha males' with completely different, but strong intentions.
Daryl knew it, too. It would've escalated someday anyway. For him, it was just sooner than later.
"Fuck," cursed Justin out loud then; awoken from his rigidity - and instantly started to run. Daryl wasn't having this, of course, and sprinted right after Justin. "Fuck, indeed..." You muttered to yourself; feeling your heart rate picking up. You had to fear for your life and the life of your unborn child for hours and now you had to fear for the life of your husband. Mental stress was your current program as it seemed - something not just you felt... You could feel some movement inside your baby bump. "I know, I know... I'm sorry, munchkin... I just hope your daddy knows what he's getting himself into..." Your palm cradled your protruding stomach in an attempt to soothe your antsy 'roommate'.
Meanwhile had Daryl caught up to Justin and tackled him to the concrete ground - where they still were. Fists connected with several body parts; each of them trying to gain the upper hand. Justin was definitely stronger than Jed. The archer had a hard time taking him down and couldn't do so without taking several hits and punches himself. However kept him the anger and adrenaline going, and gave him the strength he needed.
Somehow, they had made their way back to you. You gasped as both men entered your field of view again - just in time to witness Justin's fist colliding with Daryl's jaw, who let out a grunt of pain. Your eyes widened and you were instantly on your feet; breath hitching in your throat. "Daryl!" He had turned his back to you; spitting out some blood and blindly reaching out his arm to signal you to stay where you are. "Nah, stay back! I got it!" He yelled and violently shoved Justin away, as he wanted to deliver another blow.
You took a step back again, but didn't sit down; face full of concern. You wouldn't let him die. That much was certain. You'd intervene before that happened. How, was the part you hadn't figured out just yet...
The fight went on - without mercy. Daryl, you and Justin knew that only one would walk out alive. Neither the archer, nor the Savior intended to stop. Sure, you could stop it, but how were you supposed to do that?
The sound of a cracking bone almost send you into another frenzy - until you saw that it wasn't a bone of your husband's body. It was Justin's. His nose, to be precisely. The man winced in pain; crimson red blood already tripping down his nose and onto his shirt and the ground. Justin was clearly in a daze; stumbling a few steps back. This didn't slip Daryl's notice, of course. He knew that this was the moment. He had to grasp this chance and use it, before it was too late. The archer was well aware that he was hurt, too and didn't know how much longer he was able to hold on. So, without thinking twice, Daryl reached for the other knife in the sheath attached to his rugged jeans, freed the blade, spun around - and slit the Savior's throat in his movement. Your eyes widened to the size of plates; watching the man splutter and helplessly trying to put pressure on the wound, but it was in vain.
The clatter of a knife caused you to avert your eyes and look at your husband, who had sunk to his knees only a few feet away from Justin's now dead body; panting heavily. Your heart immediately screamed at you to look after the man you loved. Not wasting a second, you ran over to the archer; crouching down beside him.
"Daryl?" You cupped his cheeks and gently lifted his head to make him look at you. "Baby?" Heavy, clouded blue eyes gazed into yours. "You okay?" He nodded meekly. A breath of relief left your lips, although you could already see the bruises forming on his face and the dried blood on his lips and chin. Your thumbs caressed the rough, stubbly skin beneath them, before you gently pulled him closer and rested your forehead against his. Daryl sighed; his bloody hands gripping your wrists. "Y/N, 'm sorry, I-"
The bubble you and Daryl had been in bursted. You lifted your head; only now noticing Rick and a lot of other people standing around you. Mostly Saviors. Swallowing hard, you stood up; holding onto Daryl and helping him up as well. "Rick-" You started, but the leader of Alexandria interrupted you; shock, disappointment and anger clearly visible on his face. "You killed 'im? You killed Justin? Why?" You wanted to speak up again, but Daryl leapfrogged you. "'Cause he was a damn asshole, tha's why!" "Daryl, that's not-" "He kidnapped Y/N, Rick! He hurt her! He wanted to rape 'er 'n do god knows what to 'er!" Your husband yelled at his brother. "Wake up, man. We can't change them, Rick. They are wha' they chose ta be... 'N I ain't no longer puttin' my family on risk for this bullshit," Daryl stated firmly and wrapped his arm around your waist; anchoring you to him. "Let's getcha outta here, sunshine."
He didn't get any further. Another voice cut suddenly through the air. Familiar, but unexpected.
"What the hell is goin' on here?"
Rick was way too stunned to speak; could only watch as his best friend guided you across the yard.
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Slowly, you slid closer and placed a hand cautiously on his bare back. "D-" "I failed ya." You couldn't even utter his name, before the words spilled from his lips. "I failed ya 'n our kid. Swore ta always protect ya 'n now look wha' happened..." You sighed. Of course... He blamed himself for this. You should've seen it coming. "Dar..." You spoke up again in a hushed voice; sliding even closer to him. One hand found its way around his waist, the other still resting on his upper back. "This wasn't your fault. Please stop blaming yourself. It was Jed and Justin's doing. Not yours," you tried to soothe his raging thoughts of guilt and littered his shoulder blade with tiny kisses.
A few hours, a visit at the infirmary and a shower later, you sat in yours and Daryl's room - still in the Sanctuary; trying to process what happened.
Only the mattress dipping beside you managed to rip you out of your thoughts. Daryl, who had just taken a shower as well sat down on the edge of the bed; muscles tensed and without saying a single word. He hadn't said a lot anyways since the incident. Sure, the archer had never been a man of words, but... You could tell that something was still bothering him.
You, though, stayed awake and watched him sleep with a soft smile on your face; fingers carding through his soft, still damp hair. "I just hope you reconciled with your brother, Mr. Dixon. You both need each other and you damn well know it."
Daryl shook his head. "Nah. 'S my fault, Y/N. Should've protected both 'a ya better." "You are protecting us the best you can, Daryl," you stated firmly; shifting once again to sit beside him. "You risked your life more than once for me. And you did what was right yesterday evening. You did what you had to do. You acted like a leader should act." "But-" "Nu.Uh. No buts," you cut him off and gently placed your lips in on his to keep him from speaking; entangling them in a sweet kiss. "We're right here, okay?" You prompted; taking one of his hands and placing it on your baby bump, while you intertwined the other with yours. "We're right here and we are completely fine." Troubled eyes gazed into yours; his touch never ceasing. "'M sorry," Daryl whispered; voice quivering.
"C'mere." You laid back on the bed and gently tucked at his hand; inviting him to join you. He immediately obliged and melted against your body with his head resting on your chest, while he was holding onto you for dear life. "That's it, baby... Relax. Deep breaths." Your husband followed your words, and found himself drifting off into dreamland at some point. He was just way too exhausted and unable to resist your soothing, comforting touch.
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Tags: @angelwings-crossbowstrings @belitoxx @lou12346789 @fictive-sl0th @marvelcasey05 @loz-3 @whore4romance @stitchintimefan @bigbaldheadname @making-the-most-0f-it @erebus-et-eigengrau @km-ffluv @0-aubrie0 @sweetz1919 @mikaela-granger @secretsicanthideanymore @dilfdixon @txtttttttttttttt @cakesandtom @mayday2007 @thevegandarkelf
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stxneflxwers · 2 days ago
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I saw your post and came running 👀 I've been thinking about this since the end of December bc I really did not get into the holiday spirit until after it was over lmao BUT for any characters you want to write for: what are they like during the holidays? What traditions do they like to do? What gifts do they give you?
(Extra ideas you can take or leave if it helps your inspiration at all — How does Aventurine feel when you tell him you don't need any of those expensive gifts, just time with him? How does Sunday react when you sit him down to tell him he's stressing himself out too hard trying to find a perfect gift for you and that all you want is for him to be happy? How does Dan Heng respond when you tell him that the only gift you want for the holidays is him?)
^ I've just been rotating the hsr boys in my head all day at work lol so I have a lot of Thoughts™
gift of love.
summary. the greatest gift of all is his love.
a/n. tysm for the request!!! i decided to settle with gift-giving ideas you offered, since it sounded interesting and cute!! im just gonna stick with aven and sunday for this tho... i wanna test how sunday writes for me.
characters. aventurine. sunday.
cw. first time writing for sunday (this is more of a test with how much i enjoy writing him, sry for any OOC-ness). gift-giving. all lowercase. established relationship(s). PLS NOTE THAT I HAVEN'T DONE THE NEW TRAILBLAZE MISSION STILL CUZ I'M A LAZY MFER...SORRY.
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aventurine.
tries to be soooo sneaky about figuring out what you like as gifts. he wants all of his gifts to be a surprise, after all! it doesn't work. you see right through his game plan. he's a smidgen disappointed (with himself), and might be a bit surprised depending on the kind of person you are.
he still ends up showering you in expensive gifts of things you enjoy. he tries to find the most expensive edition of any of those things even though he, of all people, should know that expensive ≠ well-made. you have to tell him to chill out.
he immediately believes you're angry with him (why wouldn't you be?). but you're not, and you can see the panic flash in his eyes for the tiniest of moments. you sigh softly with a wary smile. you briefly give him some space before talking to him about it.
you tell him that all the most expensive gifts in the world are nothing in comparison to quality time together. you remain patient with an open-mind and a listening ear – you know he needs a wealth of both. you make sure to tell him you miss him.
his mouth hangs open in silence when you tell him that, for once he's at a loss for words. his mouth closes and he smiles. he takes you into a soft hug and whispers, "i miss you too."
he makes an evident effort to be around you more often when he does have the time. you know, instead of wasting half of it out in the casino.
and it makes all the difference.
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sunday.
the most perfectionist to ever perfectionist. stop him before he literally keels over from stress.
thankfully, you notice how weary he's been. and you ask him what's wrong. because at this point – everyone knows, everyone notices how he's been stuck in his head (more than usual). he frets over little things, as usual. but now he seems almost snippy. birdie is cranky.
when he eventually gives in and confesses that he cannot find the "right" gift for you, you're smiling and shaking your head. you give him a very long moment of silence, testing him – seeing if he catches on what you'll say next.
he doesn't catch on "quick enough", much to his dismay. perhaps he hasn't adjusted to your praises and reassurances...yet.
you tell him that the greatest gift of all would be for him to be happy. to be relaxed. to be in the moment. you throw in a little whisper, "maybe by my side, too."
he's silent – his mind running amok with what to say next. he settles for an awkward yet genuinely affectionate, "thank you..."
and then he asks for your forgiveness once he collects himself. you laugh softly and forgive him, you've gotten used to him asking for your forgiveness rather often. only yours, though.
at some point, you're going to need to tell him that forgiving himself is far more important.
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jellybell92 · 1 day ago
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Jschlatt Imagines
(Twitch couple edition)
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I'm back with another installment of Jschlatt imagines for y'all! This time I'm writing a hc in which he and his partner mess with each other on stream. You know, being all cute and shit.
Pure fluff and targeted towards gn and/or fem readers. Enjoy!
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One day, Schlatt calls you into his room and sits you down to tell you he wants to start streaming together.
You're elated because you realize your relationship has gotten super serious if that means he wants to show you off online
At first you do little things here and there to show that you're a couple, like use each other's headphones or munch on a snack that only Schlatt would eat (that one specific brand of beef jerky).
Chat catches on and teases you about it. You play dumb at first and pretend to be oblivious, but the signs are definitely there
You both decide to up the ante one day. With Schlatt's approval, you wear his NY hat during your stream while he's streaming too.
You blush and try to keep the bit going for as long as you can, but chat sees right through it. Eventually you give in and tell them that you live with Schlatt
Of course they go absolutely batshit and spam your screen. You decide to play Deal or No Deal in celebration. Amidst all the electric energy in chat, a TTS pops up and reads aloud:
jschlatt donated $50!
Give me my hat back bitch
You chuckle and smirk, running your tongue along the inside of your mouth.
“You're gonna have to take it from me, big guy. I'm not prying this thing off my head if it's the last thing I do. Back me up, chat!”
A wave of messages come in and defend your honor. You flip your hair back smugly, running your finger along the brim of the hat to show it off.
All of a sudden, a mysterious tall figure bursts through the door and starts shooting nerf bullets at you. You scream and fall out of your chair, curling up on the ground. Schlatt strolls into the room and rips the hat off your head, bending down and kissing you on the cheek. “Thanks, toots.” And with that he leaves.
Meanwhile, Schlatt's chat explodes as they connect the dots. He returns to his seat and dramatically places the hat on his head, observing himself in the camera and nodding. “Sorry, chat. Had to take care of some business.” He's smirking and laughing maniacally as chat screams over what just happened.
Ever since then, y'all's appearances have become more frequent. Sometimes when you're playing a game or reacting to content, Jay will open your door and throw Jambo or {redacted} into your room if he's had enough of them.
Y'all will have spontaneous nerf gun fights, whether they're on Schlatt's stream or yours. It'll end up with either one of you on the floor, panting heavily and begging for your life or with you running around the house trying to get away.
Your audiences eat up the moments that you're on stream together. They'll make thirst edits and TTS them, causing you to blush and hide behind your hands while Schlatt takes on a more extreme route. “If you do that one more time, I'm banning you, fucker?” He threatens. “Let's get one thing straight. No one can thirst over them as much as I can.” He cocks his fake gun and stares into the lens with a straight face, making you laugh. Oh, that's definitely getting clipped.
Sometimes when Schlatt is streaming, you'll bring him a snack or make him lunch when he forgets. You'll tiptoe behind him and poke his shoulder playfully (fully knowing that he can see you, but it's just fun to tease), placing the plate down in front of him. Sometimes he'll take it and thank you quickly, engrossed in whatever game he's in. Other times he'll swivel around and give you a kiss, encouraging you to stay for a while and hang out.
He'll plop you on his lap and point to the screen, his face lighting up like a kid on Christmas morning.
"Look babe! I got a bullseye. I told you I had good aim." He winks at you and plops an apple slice into his mouth, taking another one and holding it up to you.
You take it in your mouth and bite down, muttering, "Yes, Jay. I see that. Nice job, baby." After a while of jokes and teasing, he'll boot you out of the room and his sarcastic persona will switch on again. "Moment of weakness for my person, chat. Alright, where were we?"
Sometimes when you've been streaming for too long late at night, Schlatt will TTS you with, “come to bed, stupid” or he'll physically walk in there and stare at the lens until you get the hint. You'll sigh and smile, glancing at him and rubbing your eyes. “Alright guys, duty calls. See you in the next one.”
Your viewership goes up steadily each time you stream with Schlatt. It was never about the numbers, but with the way your audience is so invested in your relationship, it makes you want to stream with him more and more.
It also makes living with him a lot more comfortable. Now you no longer feel the pressure to hide when there's a camera around. The tension that once lingered between you is gone, and now you can freely make content whenever you please.
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klorophile · 2 days ago
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I agree and I don't at the same time... I've been having mixed feelings about this take and I'm gonna try to put some words on it.
First of, Arcane absolutely is a modern tragedy, yes, of course, no doubts about that. It's even presented with a classic theatre colored structure: different acts composed of episodes (scenes), and even works in threes to be fancy. And I mean... the characters, their actions, the consequences, the themes, ... You see how things will go bad, and they do go bad because of their premices. Tragedy all the way.
Yes. ...For season 1. But season 2? I personally expected season 2 not to be a tragedy, or at least not fully. Because I feel like... "what's the point?" Season 1 was already fantastically sad. Absolutely all the characters were shaken at their core (to the point of death for some), everyone was facing their big ass consequences by the end of it. Why repeat that in season 2? Because the message of "you always pay the consequences of your actions" had already been 100% delivered, I feel like there was no need to repeat it for another 9 episodes. In a way, I feel like it's redundant.
And maybe that wouldn't have been a problem. I mean, Game of Thrones told us from the start "you're gonna cry, 'cause the world is horrible and that's it" and repeated it throughout all the seasons, sure, but I think one of the differences is that Game of Thrones never promised anything else. While I know I feel like Arcane did.
One of their motto for the second season was that everything was going to be turned upside down, a 'story of opposites' as Silco says, they wanted to force the characters to be the opposite of what they usually are (Vi with no one to protect, Jinx a hero, ruthless Caitlyn, not alive silco ToT etc). And well... If season 1 was a complete tragedy and season 2 is going to be the upside down version, then why is it still a tragedy?
And I know, writing those words, that the obvious answer is "because everyone still face consequences", "because the world is a tragedy no matter who you are", "because you can't escape", etc etc. Okay. Maybe (most probably) I'm just a pussy who can't stand sad endings, especially when I have a blorbo from this show. Maybe.
But I think a lot of us are feeling betrayed, not just disappointed, hence the strong reactions. For @angelinthefire's "Because I think a lot of the complaints you see come from some people result from expecting it to be a certain kind of story that it's not." I wonder: Wasn't it the story itself that made us expect another genre at the end? Like I said, the part 1 tragedy then part 2 same tragedy feels weird.
And, in all honesty, I hate that I am saying all of that, because I completely agree that people should just tell the story they want to tell however they want to tell it. I did not expect to find myself complain about something being a tragedy instead of having a good ending.
But the other thing is that I feel like season 2 is not completely consistant about its 'consequences', and also, well, a bit cruel... Because if you look at Caitlyn, she paid very little, she's just forgiven by the narrative like that, because the writers decided that she was 'good', and that in spite of her actions. And don't read this as Caitlyn hate, I absolutely love her, but I think that doing this to her kept her away from the character development she could have had. I feel like they made her narratively good, but also less narratively intersting than she could have been.
Meanwhile, Jinx had to die with Warwick, and the message is that she finally pays the consequences of her actions from when she was 12 and accidentally got her family killed. And that's... brutal. Of course, I am a Jinx stan, so I'm not objective at all, I am aware. But if I am a Jinx stan, it's because the show made her oh so relatable. A lot of people see themselves in her. And that makes killing her a little tricky I think... Especially as what she is being 'punished' for was an accident, that in the end does not get to be forgiven.
And I mean... I think all of this could have been okay, actually. Season 2 could have been a second tragedy, why not. But what bothers me the most is simply that it does not work as well as season 1.
In season 1, the end is unescapable. That is precisely why it's a tragedy. Everyone is aiming towards it, everything is falling falling falling to this. But I am not convinced by season 2. Viktor and Jayce had to be obliterated by the arcane to save the world? Ok, sure, but then explain it! How does it work? What did they actually stop? Because the Hexgate is still standing there, hextech still exists, Piltover is still what it is... Events are going to repeat themselves. And sure, there won't be Viktor for a new Glorious Evolution, which is for the better, but what how why Ekko what what happened?? It's just not explained enough. If it's all about consequences then the arcane and the wild rune should be explained better because nothing feels like consequences, it just feel like plot written for itself. It doesn't feel like a tragedy, it feels like a story written by people trying to knot an ending. Vi and Jinx can't have a relationship anymore, because they always fall in this codependant nocious thing so Jinx has to fake her own death and flee the country all on her own? Ok, that's interesting. But why show that they could and actually did begin to mend things between each other then? (the both of them working together as equals, Vi asking for Jinx's opinion, Jinx learning to be the big sister with Isha and by seeing Vi with her alcohol problem, ...) Why show Vander and Silco (Vi and Jinx parallels) together if by the end the conclusion is that you cannot mend a relationship when it's been too bad for too long?
Anyway, I feel like what I disagree with in season 2 (one of the things at least, because we're not talking about the Piltover/Zaun storytelling here, amongst other things) is that we were told that it did not have to end badly, and then it did anyway, and for reasons that are not solid enough. I agree with season 1 because I see how it couldn't have turned differently. It shows us its heroes, and because they are what they are, the end is what it is. But in season 2, I just feel like the sad ending was forced. It's the other way around: the end has to be sad, so the characters are going to do this and that. And I think that is also a part of why we read the 'consequences' with the morale glasses on: because if it is more forced than logically flowing, then we see the choices the writers deliberately made, who they chose to keep alive and who they did not, and we wonder why.
They say it's about consequences, but it feels more like they are forcing their characters in a direction because they want the end to go a certain way. It's not inescapable like season 1. And if it's not inescapable, then maybe we deserved a good ending for season 2. Or at least an episode 10 that would be an alternate ending or something.
I've been thinking about how I would most concisely sum up the plot of Acane. Because I think a lot of the complaints you see come from some people result from expecting it to be a certain kind of story that it's not.
And I think the most concise way to put it is that Arcane is about consequences. The first episode starts with an explosion, that the characters spend the rest of the arc dealing with the repercussions of. And then the first arc ends with two massive events - Powder killing her family and the invention of hextech - that they spend the entire rest of the show dealing with.
I think most of the stories we get from Western media are about achieving or accomplishing something, or the failure to achieve something. And you can frame Arcane in those terms. But I think to best understand the story, you have to step out of that typical framework. Because the thing with an achievement-based story is that there is a particular end goal in mind, and I don't think Arcand has that.
Like take Vi and Jinx, for example. A typical way to frame their story would be that it's about two sisters trying to rebuild their relationship. That presupposes a certain ending: They either succeed or fail at their relationship, and that's what the focus is on.
But it's not about that. It's about - how do you deal with an event that fundamentally changes you?
In season 1, Vi's answer was to recapture what things were like before. In season 2, they try to redo the past (saving Vander) and get a different outcome, but that's impossible. The answer comes with Ekko - to build something new.
And this is all over the show - action and reaction, how the arcane wakes up, killing is a cycle.
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stars4noah · 2 days ago
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HALLEY'S COMET- six.
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{WARNINGS}: swearing, mention of a bar
w.c- 2,038
a.n- i'm gonna be so honest, chapter five was originally going to be the end of this series but i was driving and i had a crazy idea. enjoy more chapters because i don't think this story will be ending any time soon.
{TAGLIST}: @lacy1986 @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard @chey-h @rumoured-whispers @oobleoob @dontwantthemoney @n0n3xsisting
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"i'll love you forever." he said softly.
"and always?" i asked
he laughed softly, nuzzling his face in my hair.
"and always, my love."
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"[y/n]. dude, come on. wake up." nicholas' voice broke through my hard slumber, jolting me awake. i furrowed my brows, sitting up slowly and looking around. i was on the tour bus. but why? i had just been on the couch with noah..
i ran a hand over my face, trying to gather my thoughts. we just finished a show. noah and i got into another argument. but this argument was different from the one in my dream. and then i left. no.. that part was a dream. i fell asleep.
it was all fake.
the music, the new album, the sex and the kisses and the 'i love you's. it was all fake. as much as i hated him, i felt a strange sense of disappointment down in my gut. it hit me like a train. this perfect life had been built up in my mind in the course of just a couple hours. was that really what i wanted? who was i kidding, of course it was. it was all i'd ever wanted in life. to be in love. to be happy. to be able to live out my dreams freely.
even though i definitely wasn't interested in the music industry.
"what, is she still sleeping?" i heard noah's voice getting closer, and i rolled my eyes as i jumped out of my bunk. "no, asshole. i'm awake."
"oh, she lives!" he said. "what were you even dreaming about? you've been tossing and turning and talking for the past 30 minutes." he said, his arms crossed.
"fuck off, noah." i grumbled, searching for some clothes for the show tonight.
"not until you learn how to do your job right."
i rolled my eyes, retreating to the bathroom to go and get ready.
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"i swear, it's like he lives to piss me off. doesn't he have anything better to do? like, i dunno, hook up with girls? make music? write lyrics? instead of fucking with me. it's annoying." i rambled to nicholas as i set up my camera, him standing beside me.
and then he suggested the most absurd thing ever.
"i dunno, [y/n], maybe he likes you."
i choked on nothing, my eyes widening. "are you insane? him? like me? never in a million years would that happen."
nicholas laughed softly. "i mean, the way he talks about you when you're not around says otherwise. it's always [y/n] this, [y/n] that. don't you see the way he stares at you when you're not looking? or how he put extra effort in when he knows you're gonna be closer to the stage?"
i stayed quiet. he kind of had a point. i never heard him speak about me or felt his stares, but i could tell that he always dressed nicer or sang better when i was closer.
maybe..
no. hell no. just because i had that stupid dream doesn't mean a thing. i hate him, he hates me. and that's final.
"you're delusional." i said.
"you're in denial." he retorted, walking off to go get ready for the show.
as i continued to set up, i felt a pair of eyes on me. i looked up briefly, noticing noah looking at me before he quickly looked away, going to talk with some girl.
why was i jealous? it's not like we were together. not like i liked him. not like i imagined a future with him every time my insomnia kept me awake at night.
whatever. it didn't matter.
NOAH'S POV.
i finished up my conversation with some random girl whose name i couldn't even remember. i didn't know why, but some part of me just yearned to make [y/n] jealous. to make her wish i was giving her all of my attention instead of giving it to others. i needed her to know how i felt. how i looked at her, how i yearned for her.
what am i saying? i don't like her. at all. she's cocky and stuck up and beautiful and funny and-
fuck.
i watched as she walked around the arena, humming to herself as she adjusted the settings on her camera, not paying a lick of attention to where she was going. a couple more steps and she would-
CRASH!
"ow! fuck!"
i scoffed, walking over to where she was sat on the ground, rubbing the back of her head.
"you good there, princess? looks like you fell." i smirked.
she rolled her eyes, pulling herself up to her feet. "i'm fine."
"you sure? you took quite the fall there." i said.
she smirked. "aww, are you showing actual human empathy for once?"
i scoffed. "keep dreaming. i can't afford to lose my photographer right now. do your job." i said, walking away.
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the lights dimmed as we took the stage, the crowd's energy palpable. i stepped up to the microphone, my intense gaze sweeping over the audience. among the sea of faces, my eyes locked with hers, an unfamiliar spark igniting between the two of us.
"the sutures in my head keep getting ripped out. these open wounds are the thoughts i can't stop thinking about. digging for purpose, feelings resurface. and involuntarily my system gets nervous."
there was a crowd of people in the arena. our first sold out show ever. we just released our album Finding God Before God Finds Me a couple months ago, and for our first sold out show of the tour, i decided to add a couple songs from our very first album.
"tell me tonight that you'll be by yourself. cause something bad will happen if you are with someone else. i'm just all fucked up, and i really need your help. i really need your help."
i looked at [y/n] in the front row, snapping pictures. when she was so close to the stage, i always felt like i performed better. seeing her smile at nicholas, hearing her sing along to our songs. it gave me motivation. i closed my eyes.
"there's a lotta hollow souls out there all alone, and they're waiting for you to invite 'em back into my home. they touched and they took what was rightfully mine. now i'm the devil, and their souls just went up in price."
images of her face filled my mind as i sang. her smile, her scowl, her tears and her laughter. every part of her was gorgeous. every part of her made me fall in love deeper and deeper every day. why couldn't i admit these feelings?
"set me free, i think i'm giving up. don't wait for me, i think i've had enough. set me free, i think i'm giving up. don't wait for me, i've had enough, enough now"
right. i had bailey. my girlfriend. i wondered what she was doing right now. maybe sleeping or shopping or watching tv in our bed at home. even though i had her, part of me felt off. it didn't feel like she really loved me. everyone always tried to convince me to break up with her. but she's my girl. the love of my life, the woman i wanted to marry one day. right?
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as we got back onto the bus, i came to a realization.
one, i wasn't happy with bailey. she was toxic, manipulative, and i was pretty sure she was cheating on me.
two, i was utterly, hopelessly in love with [y/n].
i laid on my bunk, wide awake with my thoughts swarming in my mind. i was in love with her. i was in love with another woman. what the hell was wrong with me?
"there's a thousand voices in my head. i just hope it doesn't take a rope around my neck to put them all to rest." i hummed to myself, scrolling on my phone.
"noah?" [y/n]'s voice spoke from her bunk, her head peeking out of the curtain. "i thought you went for drinks with the others."
"nope." i said. "i'm not in the mood."
she raised an eyebrow. "that's weird. why?"
i shrugged. "i'm thinking."
"about?"
"none of your business."
she rolled her eyes, mumbling something under her breath before retreating back to her bunk.
it was quiet for another moment before i spoke.
"hey, [y/n]?" i said quietly, not wanting to disturb her in case she had fallen asleep.
"what?"
i bit my lip. "what do i do if i'm in love with someone.. but i'm in a relationship?"
she peeked her head out again, raising an eyebrow. "break up with the girl, duh. don't lead her on if you're not interested anymore. that's a dick move." she said. "wait, don't tell me you're breaking up with bailey?"
i shrugged again. "i dunno yet."
"jesus, finally." she said, and i frowned. "first of all, don't say that. second, i said i don't know yet. i'm thinking."
she sighed. "noah, you know she's a shit person. she literally abuses you. she's a toxic, manipulative asshole. and if you're in love with another woman who you know can give you the love that you deserve, shoot your shot. don't sit there and suffer just because you don't want to hurt someone's feelings."
i wasn't sure why, but a small bit of rage filled my body at the way she spoke about bailey. "don't talk about her like that. that's not true. she's just doing what she knows is best for me." i said, and she scoffed.
"whatever you say."
"you're just jealous." i crossed my arms.
she raised her eyebrows. "of what? cause its definitely not her behaviour. or literally any aspect of her personality or life."
i laid back down, ignoring her for the rest of the ride. i knew she was right, but i hated to admit it. i loved bailey. she was all that i had.
when we first got together, everything was great. i swore that i would marry her one day. and then she started going out more and staying out later and sometimes i didn't feel like i could trust her. but i let it slide because bringing it up would just lead to arguments. i didn't want arguments.
but as her behaviour continued and i saw my friends in happy, loving relationships, i realized it wasn't normal. being treated like this wasn't normal, and it wasn't what i wanted. i wanted to be happy. feel loved.
i wanted to be loved by [y/n].
with a sigh and a slightly heavy heart, i texted bailey a long message.
'i want to start this off by saying i know what you did. i know what you've been doing behind my back for longer than i'd like to admit. i loved you bailey, i really did. but we can't be together anymore. i want things that you can't provide me. i know you've been cheating on me, and i let it go because we all make mistakes. but this is more than a mistake. please don't try to fight this, just accept it. you would rather sleep with multiple other men than be with me, and that's okay. i can't be what you need, and you can't be what i need. we weren't made for each other. this is goodbye.'
with tears in my eyes, i put on my headphones and put my phone on silent, blasting some music as i washed away these feelings that i didn't want to hit me at this moment. i hated being vulnerable. i'd cry it out when i was alone.
i sat in my bunk for the rest of the night, trying to fall asleep but i couldn't. instead, i drew in my notebook and wrote down the occasional lyric that popped into my mind.
'i'll flip it with you and me inside.'
'heaven know's i ain't gettin' over you.'
'thought you were somebody else.'
'no way to right these wrongs, either way i'm feeling, it might just cost something in the millions. i know that i can't resist.'
fuck. this was going to be good.
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bradleysass · 2 days ago
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Gone - @black-brothers-microfic - Word Count: 543 - Starchaser + Wolfstar
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James Potter was a nightmare without Regulus.
It had only been two days since Regulus left for a week-long work trip, but James was already acting like someone had cut off his lifeline. Sirius and Remus knew their friend could be dramatic, but this was a new level.
"James," Sirius groaned as he glanced at his phone, a FaceTime request from James lighting up the screen for the third time that day. "We just saw him last night. He’s alive and well. Thriving, even."
"Not the point," James said, flopping face-first onto the couch in their shared living room like a man bereft of all hope. "The point is that I’m dying. He’s not here. I’m not here. What am I supposed to do for an entire week?"
Remus barely looked up from his laptop. "I don’t know, maybe something productive? Reg wouldn’t want you sulking around here like this."
Sirius grinned, clearly enjoying the scene. "Honestly, Prongs, it’s pathetic. Who knew you’d turn into such a needy little thing without my brother around? Didn’t you just say he’s clingy last week?"
James sat up to glare at him. "That’s different. It’s cute when he does it. I’m suffering."
"James," Remus sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "You’ve been over here for three hours. What exactly do you want us to do?"
"Keep me company," James said, his tone far too serious for the absurdity of the request. "You’re supposed to be my best friends. Isn’t that what best friends do? Help me survive my week of torment and—"
Sirius tossed a throw pillow at him, hitting James squarely in the face. "Moony and I were trying to have a quiet afternoon. We don’t need you moping around like a love-sick golden retriever."
"Love-sick golden retriever?" James repeated, scandalized. "I’ll have you know I’m more of a stoic, tragic hero whose one true love is away."
Remus snorted. "Stoic, sure. Tragic, definitely. But if you’re a hero, I’m Dumbledore."
Sirius cackled, throwing his head back in laughter. James scowled, crossing his arms and sulking in the corner of the couch like a child who’d just been denied dessert.
"Fine," James muttered. "I’ll just sit here quietly, then."
That lasted all of two minutes.
"Hey, Moony. What are you writing?"
"Work."
"Can I help?"
"No."
"Pads, wanna play FIFA?"
"Nope."
"Are you guys always this boring when I’m not here? No wonder Reg is so devoted to me. I’m probably the most fun he’s had in years."
Sirius groaned. "James, I swear to Merlin—"
"You’re gonna miss me when I'm gone," James cut in, grinning as if he’d won some invisible battle.
"Gone?" Remus asked, his voice tinged with hope.
"Yeah. I’m going to take a nap in your guest room," James said, standing up and stretching. "Don’t worry. I’ll be back in a couple hours."
Sirius threw another pillow at him as he walked away, but James dodged it with a laugh.
"I’m sending Regulus a bill for emotional damages," Sirius muttered, flopping back onto the couch.
Remus just sighed, closing his laptop. "You know he’s going to keep doing this until Regulus gets back, right?"
Sirius groaned louder, throwing his arm dramatically over his face. "Next time, we’re locking the door."
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pandajaye · 1 day ago
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🧸 Changbin as a Father 🧸
✨ Headcanons ✨ (Part 1)
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A/N: I'm writing this bcs I was getting baby fever and then I got cuteness aggression from thinking about Changbin as a father sooo here we are now hehe yippee I hope you like it pls enjoy :)
🩷 Reacting to the news 🩷
- Eyes wide and blinking excessively in disbelief with a weak “What?”
- You confirm the news and a smile is creeping up so he does his upside down smile trying to control it
- “I’m gonna be a… I’M GONNA BE A DAD?! FOR REAL?! ME?! HAHAHA!” he’s SO excited 😭
- He was sitting on the bed with you but he gets up and does a little happy dance because he’s ecstatic, but then he sits back down and gives you a hug
- “Thank you so much. I love you so much. This is so important to me.” he just wants to hold you and love on you, he didn’t know when he’d become a dad or even if he’d become one but he was always interested in the concept
- He pulls back away from you and looks at your stomach that is only soft from the satisfying brunch date from earlier in the day
- “I promise to stick to my principles and be genuine to you. I will love you and teach you how to be a good person. Because you are our baby.” he gets quiet… saying ‘our baby’ got to him, his eyes start to fill with tears
- You give him a hug and let him know that everything is going to be okay and that you’ll get through this together, he hugs you again and says “Yes. We will. I promise.”
- He kisses your cheek and side hugs you while holding a hand against your lower belly, he’ll start to call those ‘family hugs’
⭐️ 5 weeks ⭐️
- You’ve already started going to doctor appointments, coming home to flowers and your favorite snacks that he prepared beforehand, turning on your favorite television show to help you relax and ease your mind
- You held his hand as you two spoke to the managers and leaders at JYPE about what’s going to happen in the near future, things regarding his schedules and contracts and discretion
- The members were so excited to find out and were immediately supportive, calling you two after the meeting to see how things went
- “Everything will work out, you two. Don’t worry about anything.” says Skz's amazing leader Bang Chan, and it does make the two of you, especially Changbin, feel better, he tells his hyung thank you for the comforting words
🐽 8 weeks 🐽
- The past three weeks have been a little… textured, you’re starting to feel the emotions everyone warns about with pregnancy which aren’t terrible but you are a more emotional person, Changbin understands this and makes an effort to sit and listen to you as much as he can
- He tells you to text him while he’s at the studio or dance practice and he’ll call you when he has a long enough break to speak with you
- Physically, there’s a small difference in your body that he notices easily since you’ve been together for some years now
- He gives you lots of body massages when you’re tired and researches healthy recipes that you’ll need to start eating, most of the time he just calls his mother and asks her what you may need which leads to her coming over to bring you some lunch or bring you back to her house (if he's working), you’ve been close with his family forever and marriage only made that bond stronger, their house is basically like a second home already
- Both of you had a wonderful time at your ultrasound appointment, he quickly went from chatting it up with you to quietly staring at the screen where the doctor pointed to your baby, he couldn’t believe it despite staring right at the images, that’s your guys' baby!
- This pregnancy was really sinking in for him, well, every day, but it was especially sinking in at this very moment, when the doctor left the room to let you get ready to go home, Changbin gave you a passionate kiss and restated his promise to you that you two would get through this together
- Together you showed the printed copies of the ultrasound images to his family and yours, when you showed the members they were excited and almost couldn’t look away, it was definitely setting in for them as well
🐰 12 weeks 🐰
- Pregnancy is hitting you like a truck, sure life is beautiful or whatever but you're really only good at making things look good when you're in front of others
- Changbin's mom noticed you were trying to hold back how you were really feeling and she tells you to be honest and let it out, you both end up crying, just a little emotional, but she tells you that everything is okay, that you're okay, that they love you, and that Bin loves you, too
- She tells you to take a nap while she makes some lunch that will be healthy but also serve as some nice comfort food to help you feel better
- When you wake up, you can indulge not only in how the smell of the food isn't nauseating, Changbin's there, he was able to leave the studio early and wanted to come see his special lady and his special baby (and his mom of course)
- Unfortunately, you sometimes get sick at home when he's wearing too much of his colognes, you tell him you'll power through it but he insists that he'll either spray them outside of the entire apartment or he'll hold off on wearing them for a while, you're appreciative but it makes you feel a little bit like a bully, you're grateful for him being so understanding
- When the two of you go shopping, he just HAS to go to the baby section and look at all the tiny clothes, did he almost lose his mind when he saw a pink hoodie onesie with a bunny on the front? yes, yes he did, he's trying to be patient but it's hard, you're practically forced to drag him out of the store and rub his back to comfort him, you want to enjoy these next few months while you're still a just duo
🌸🌸🌸 ~ End of Part 1 ~ 🌸🌸🌸
A/N: Was this good? I went by a whole week by week guide from the national health organization to give me some idea of what I was writing here, I hope this seems accurate and is somewhat if not definitely enjoyable bcs I definitely enjoyed writing! part 2 will come out.. at some point, hopefully not too long from now, especiall if this does well! anyways thanks for reading, have a great day!!
Edit: If you’d like to be tagged in the next part, drop your @ in the comments and I’ll start a taglist!!!!
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redvexillum · 10 hours ago
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When I first jumped into Vexitober, I genuinely thought I was gonna die. Like, poof, gone. I wrote and posted every single day for a whole month, convinced I could walk it off after a quick break. Spoiler alert: I was wrong. Then came Smutmas. "Oh, it'll be fine," I told myself, "I'm splitting the workload with Kit!" Yeah, no. I once again found myself writing and posting daily like some manic holiday elf.
By the time New Year Kisses rolled around, I was certain I'd finally caught a break. "Short drabbles," I said. Short. Except, surprise! Each one turned into a fully fleshed-out one-shot because apparently, I don't know how to stop. So here I am, months later, writing this post because my brain and body have collectively filed for divorce. Yesterday, while working on a story, I hit a point where I legit thought I was going to throw up. From writing.
Why did I do this to myself? Was I scared of fading into obscurity? Did I think if I stopped posting, everyone would forget me? I guess I’ve been conditioned to think that stories are like fast food—something to be devoured, forgotten, and flushed away as we move on to the next shiny thing.
But then I had this epiphany: Holy shit, that’s unhealthy. I’m fucking tired.
Stories aren’t fast food. They’re experiences. They take time. They deserve time. And maybe… I deserve some time too.
So yeah, all this rambling to say—I'm gonna be okay with not writing AND posting every day. I’m learning to slow down, breathe, and enjoy the process again.
Haha... I think.
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trashcanwithsprinkles · 12 hours ago
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Happy new year :)
So I finally got to read the new chapter today, and I just - want Childe to ask Zhongli outright why everyone thinks he's human, when he isn't. Obviously, he wouldn't ask that on purpose, but maybe just blurt it out?
Hopefully, Zhongli would notice that Childe doesn't care at all that he isn't human, and he could just be himself with him without having to censor his reactions.
Zhongli seriously needs someone besides Qiqi to be himself with and talk about all that. Childe would have the added bonus that he didn't know Zhongli as Rex Lapis, and while it would trip him up for a bit, he would just go on with life and treat him no differently.
Though all revelations regarding his nature as a dragon will have to wait until after they return from their trip.
As always, thx for sharing your fantastic writing!
genuinely i think if the gang had a couple doses less respect towards zhongli n they started thinking abt intervening on his whole- he looks tired and stressed deal, THEN childe might actually blurt something out if he happens to be there as an intervention is taking place
kinda like,
zhongli: what do you mean i cannot leave the house. i have things i must do guizhong: you need to take a day off! have you considered the spa? a massage? you look stressed hu tao: yeah, can't have you coming in to work like you're dead on your feet zhongli: i assure you i'm fine ping yan: yeah but you don't really believe it, do you? you look like shit my man guizhong: you're not getting out of here until i see you take like at least a couple of days off to just relax around the house! ping yan: oh- one of the girls from student management does call-on massages! hu tao: wait that's great! we could get him a massage! he looks ultra tense! zhongli, mildly concerned now: uh- what- guizhong: i think i still have some nice coconut oil somewhere in the bathroom, this is a great idea! zhongli, hearing the word 'oil', alarmed: i really don't- hu tao: oh sush you! you're the one that got into this situation by being a workaholic, you have no right to complain now! childe: oh my god- first of all rude, second- why do you all just keep treating him like he's gonna collapse?? guizhong: because he will??? childe: no??? are you blind?? you can't just apply human logic to this, have you actually thought of asking him how he's doing?? ping yan: tf you mean 'human logic'?????????? guizhong: he says he's fine but we can all see he's not, so there's no point in asking him when he's just gonna try to pretend he's not stressed childe, realizing they haven't actually asked him, realizing they don't believe the man anyway (!!), and realizing they haven't noticed he's Not Human (???): oh my god. how are you the one who's known him the longest
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aviradasa · 2 days ago
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Might I request something with the lost boys? (It can be together or separate- I’ve read a good bit of stuff where it’s poly, but you 100% don’t have to)
how would they react to a reader that is also a vampire, like reader is part of their coven, and when they go out to hunt reader just goes FERAL and ends up covered in the victims blood?😅
Heyy sorry this took forever this is my first oneahot for them and i was struggling to write the boys personalitys a little, so this is very short, sweet and not very detailed at the moment but once i get into this my writing will improve for them just bear with me!
Thank you for leaving your request and here is
Poly! Lost boys x Vampire! Reader
Bloodlust of a halfling
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The sun is just setting across the little California town of Santa Carla. To most folks, now's the time to wind down; to the young people, it's time to party, but for a couple of select groups, it's time for something even better...
“Paul, you throw one more goddamn bottle cap at me, I'm gonna jump over this sofa and bash your fuckin balls in!” I whip around in my spot, placing both hands on the back of the sofa as I shout the threat, staring him down as he teasingly holds one up, pretending to throw another one, before Dwayne comes up behind him, snatching the cap as Paul jumps up, to chase him.
Some of us were feeling a bit crazy tonight. But that's good. The adrenaline running through our undead bodies was something we lived for - and killed for.
Well, they killed for. I was one of the few halflings of the group. One kill and I'll never have to worry again. Only a fool would be willing to pass that up. It's okay star, and Michael will come around eventually.
“Alright, boys, you know what time it is! Lets get outta here.” We all hear David tell us; he stands by the entrance, ready to go with that evil little smile he gets.
Once he speaks, the others jump up. Whooping and hollering like usual. Marko comes over to me, and as I'm about to stand, he grabs my arms and yanks me from my seat as we both laugh. Once we all make our way outside, I hop on the back of Dwayne's bike.
Star Michael and Laddie stay behind for now. They just aren't ready; that's ok, though, cause the boys have deemed tonight mine, and I'm gonna prove them right.
We speed through the darkened brush before we exit onto one of the empty beaches. The sound of all of our shouts, laughs, and Hollars, plus the revving engines mixed together, sounds like the warning calls from a pack of coyotes or something. 
Making our way onto the boardwalk, we park the bikes, and I already know what to do. Making my way towards the live show area I spot a group of douchie-looking drunk surf Nazis, our rival group
Perfect for a first kill.
You see my job was to be bait. Lure in some drunk,horny assholes away from the crowd so that we can all rush them fast without any escaping. Luckily, this was the easy part, and I have had a lot of practice at it.
I make my way over to an open spot that is easily noticeable by where they are standing. Swaying with the music as I begin to dance for a little while. Once I feel an eye on me, I twirl to face them with an inviting smile, gesturing for them to come over, almost like a witch casting a spell. At least that's what it seems like with how derpy and hypnotized these drunk fools look as they approach me.
Even their aura is crude and suffocating as they make their way over, surrounding me. There are only three, but it's still heavily uncomfortable. Lucky I need not fear. This will all be over soon.
Being bait was never a fun experience. But it's not like the boys can come out here and attract people to follow them to sketchy places.
Ok, well, they could. They just don't want to. But that's beside the point
Now that I have the attention of the group, I grab two of them by the wrists without a word, dragging them away from the crowd; the three of them follow without a thought as I lead them to the darkened beach and under the boardwalk. Letting go of them, I run a bit farther into the darkness under the dock with a laugh. 
The surf nazis start to look a bit freaked, only taking a few more steps, looking at each other paranoid, before one of them raises their finger to point at the five pairs of glowing yellow eyes that appear from the darkness. 
The surf nazis try to run, but it's already too late. The boys are on them, fast, cackling, and laughing as they take down two of them. Its up to me to kill the third,
My nerves are through the roof as I stand frozen for a moment, but then suddenly the scent of blood fills my senses and I'm on that surfer like a bat outta hell,
I fly up behind him as he begins to run, but he doesn't get far as I slam my feet into his spine; he falls face first into the rocky sand as my heels dig into his back, I'm quick to step off, though. I move to straddle his back, grabbing one of his arms and bending it backward in a way no human body should bend, He tries to scream, but before he can get anything out, I dig my claws into his throat, successfully ripping it out.
I stand up and flip his body over swiftly as I completely start tearing into his flesh. Clawing, biting, chewing, ripping, tearing, snapping. By the time I've finished, the mangled corpse is covered in blood. I sit over the body for a moment, catching my breath. I know I don't have to breathe, but it helps calm down a bit. I feel the blood clinging to my skin and clothing, making my hair stick to my face, and bloody sand and dirt cling to me like glue. It's pretty uncomfortable, but I don't care right now. The blood coursing through me is like a drug, And I feel my body getting stronger by the second. The power rushed through me.
It only lasts a moment, though, before a voice breaks me from my moment.
“ DAMN GIRL WHAT THE HELL!” I hear Paul exclaim with a cackle. My head shoots to look at him. My gaze flickers from him to the others, who now also look up from their meals with smirks, chuckles, and grins, and I can't help but just stare at them back in embarrassment for a moment before joining in on the chuckles. I don't know what exactly they find so amusing, but I might as well join in.
“ well somebody was hungry.” Marko teases as he looks from you to the body you've torn to pieces. You just roll your eyes at him as you reach behind you to grab a bit of flesh you missed the blood in 
“That's one gnarly ass first kill. Good job.” Dwayne says, admiring the whole scene for a moment before giving you a thumbs up and going back to tearing the flesh off of his guy's arm.
Luckily, the boys decide not to tease much; they remember what it's like. How the first kills can feel on the body and mind, so they keep most of the joking to themselves for now. They will get you later, though, you best believe. But for now, they are gonna let your state mellow out.
David, on the other hand, doesn't mind the idea of teasing you right now.
He doesn't say much he just glances up mid-scalping the guy who Dwayne is pulling flesh from to admire your work a bit “ could have kept him alive a little longer and had more fun, going for the throat kills them too quickly in my opinion” he critiques giving you a cocky smile before he goes back to his business.
Once he turns his back, you look over at Paul as he begins to silently mock David, which you and him share a little childish giggle about before he and Marko finish off the corpse they shared. David and Dwayne finish a few minutes later. After feeding, we all throw the body into the ocean, Knowing the rest of the remnants will be washed away by morning due to the tide. 
Then we leave. We try not to stick around too long after kills just in case someone hears the commotion or anything of the sort. 
But As you all make your way to the bikes, which had been parked nearby, the obnoxious nature of the boys carries on. After kills, they are always pretty hyped, and after how crazy your first one was, they are even more amped up. Slinging their arms over your shoulders, and giving you hugs, Marko even ends up giving you a piggyback ride the rest of the way over 
Once he lets me down, David grabs me and decides on his own accord that I'm gonna ride back with him. But hey, I'm not complaining. Once I get seated on the back of his bike, we set off, and for some reason, I'm just exhausted. I guess I wasted my energy tearing that guy up like an animal, but that's ok. I begin nodding off a bit on the ride back to the cave. I fight to try and stay awake but to no avail, so I eventually just rest my head against David's back, tightening my grip around his waist a bit so I don't fall off. The last thing I hear is his chuckle and the rumble of the bikes as I slip into a light sleep.
Finally, now that I'm truly one of them, I can rest. I was so worried before I fully turned and anxious, but now I am free. Free of the confines of a human body, and a human soul. Now I'm just me, and I'm immortal; better yet, I can be with my boys for eternity. Who could ask for more? I certainly couldn't. I've already been spoiled so.
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freneticfloetry · 2 days ago
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I know. I'm late. Who's shocked, at this point? The end of esta noche will be up this weekend (or before, if the odds are in my favor tomorrow). In the meantime, have a taste of the next thing in line (which I'm super excited about, actually), along with a shiny new header for 2025!
Thanks to @carlos-in-glasses @paperstorm @strandnreyes @bonheur-cafe @whatsintheboxmh @nisbanisba @carlossreaders and @heartstringsduet for the tags today. 😘
"Do you think this was his way of breaking the news that he doesn't want to live with me anymore?" Snorting, she snags the last strip of bacon from his plate. "Yeah, you've officially lost me." "Think about it. The guys he hooks up with, he doesn't even stay to see sunrise." He draws his shoulders up to his ears and lets them drop back again. "Now he's just gonna, what, live with one for the rest of his life?" "The rest of — wow, okay." She puts both eyebrows up in that particular way that means she thinks he's pathetic but thinks actually saying so is too basic. "Alejandro, I say this with every shred of affection between us, plus the brunch you're now buying because you've made my brain hurt: there are literal lesbians who move slower than this." "Nora, I'm serious," he hisses, snatching what's left of his bacon back. "He's noped out of the last three showings. He gets cagey whenever I send a link to a listing. At this point, I can't even come anywhere near him with an open browser." But it's also Henry, who hates confrontation, who gets anxious about change, who can pluck endless poetry out of thin air but struggles with words that will hurt to hear. Alex shakes his head. Regardless of Nora's trash take, the rest of his life feels pretty damn accurate. In hindsight, he'd sort of figured that they'd find a place and move themselves in and just keep going like this forever — the same companionship and cohabitation that some might call co-dependence, with Henry fucking his way through every dude with Daddy Issues until either his looks or his trust fund ran out, and Alex secretly, silently, stupidly in love with him until the approximate heat death of the universe. He'd never considered that Henry might opt for a secret third thing: moving on with his life, without Alex in it. The bacon crumbles to bits in his hand. He bites into his lower lip, instead. "What if..." He stops. Swallows hard. Starts again. "Nora, what if he just fucked me goodbye?"
Y’all were quick this week! Tagging in @never-blooms @liminalmemories21 @rmd-writes @reyesstrand @lemonlyman-dotcom @orchidscript @ladytessa74 @three-drink-amy @herefortarlos @carlos-tk @welcometololaland and @alrightbuckaroo.
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justjesse116 · 3 days ago
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Can I pester you for your thoughts on Dabi and Hawks' respective canon endings (if you haven't posted em somewhere already and I've just missed it)
Oh yeah, I did say I'd touch on that and sure never did huh. I got so fed up that I just ignored the ending and didn't feel like acknowledging it with a post anymore.
But I do have an answer for you. It's gonna be a long one, buckle up buttercup.
As for Dabi's 'end'.
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Ah yes, fantastic message Horikoshi, if you're not a perfect victim and don't shrink away and make yourself small and hide away from your abuse/abuser - if you get mad and lash out then you should just fucking die. Your ABUSER gets a second chance, but you can just go fuck yourself.
(For a better understanding on how I feel about Dabi's story as a whole I got, what, 2 sentences in and had to pause because I'm sick as hell right now and a little fucked up on cold medicine, and I got so mad my hands started shaking and my heart tried to do it's best impression of a wildebeest stampede in my chest. (Emotional regulation who?))
Dabi is my ride or die, because I came from a home where my sperm donor terrorized me my whole life for the crime of being alive and having the gall to take after my mother. I have an unfortunately personal understanding of how he feels, at least in part, and his end in the story is what bothers me most, and will continue to do so.
Did he go about it the best way? No, I'm not a fan of the murder (arson I couldn't give 2 fucks about, destroy that government property babey) but I can't blame him for turning out the way he did. He went through literal hell and came out the other side torn apart physically and mentally. And I'd be lying if I said I didn't fantasize about killing my sperm donor for all the ways he fucked me up every once in a while, so I can't blame him for that either. I think it's a natural reaction to want to eliminate a perceived threat, especially one as traumatizing as one of the people who are supposed to be guaranteed to love you turning on you the way Endeavor did.
But anyway, I'm rambling at this point so in a nutshell; FUCK Horikoshi and his wishy washy writing and bitchass cop out. The end to Dabi's story is insulting at best and harmful at worst. It's very obvious that he was over My Hero, since he bulldozed over anything that would resemble a satisfying ending in regards to multiple parts of the story, but his handling of Dabi as a character is the most egregious in my opinion. I have well and truly had enough of this man (derogatory).
So now I shall move on to the man, the myth, the legend, the love of my life - you get it. Hawks. And if I'm being honest I'm not very keen on his ending either.
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First of all, what ever happened to giving heroes more time to kill?
Ahem. Excuse me, getting a little heated.
Fucking give me that man, he needs to be sat down in a plush fucking armchair, with a mug of actual coffee, not that canned shit, bundled in the softest blanket money can buy, just relaxing and reading or watching a show. LET THAT MAN REST. HIS ASS HAS NO BUSINESS BEING THE PRESIDENT OF AN ORGANIZATION THAT SHOULD HAVE BEEN ABOLISHED AT THE END. THAT'S WHAT IT FELT LIKE HORIKOSHI WAS HINTING TOWARDS THE WHOLE TIME. GET RID OF THE HERO SYSTEM. BUT NOOOOO.
To be a little more coherent (hopefully) about it. It's not to say I don't think he could do it, I just think it was one fuck of a leap. That was some Olympic level stretching, at least in my opinion. I just think that man deserves to rest. He belongs in a quiet little house in the countryside and he has a part time job at like, a local farm or something and in his spare time he volunteers all over town and preferably Dabi is there as well 🙄. Give him peace and quiet, let him rest.
I honestly don't know what would have satisfied me canon wise for his ending, but HPSC president just ain't it. Again, I feel like it was Horikoshi catching the cooties for his own work; he just wanted to be done with it so he slapped together what he thought was the most likely of scenarios and just left it at that. In a word; disappointing.
I see a lot of people saying he should have died, because out of everyone of the heroes his death would have made the most sense and had the most meaning or whatever, and I can agree with that, but I'm still glad he's not dead. It absolutely is fucked up how disproportionate the deaths were when it comes to heroes vs villains, no one can deny that. But dammit I need a win, I need a fave who ain't dead.
I think that about wraps up my thoughts without me writing a god damn dissertation. Thanks for the ask, it was a nice distraction.
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apeninastory · 1 day ago
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ivan as a tragic-love character (pt.4a?)
DISCLAIMER: doing this for fun + because i love ivan + because my brain needs to. nothing abt it is carved in stone and i'm open to discuss abt it like adults do - i just excitedly wanted to share my take on ivan in a more articulated way.
OF COURSE i have to. of course. i managed to listen to nowhere a couple of times on the 31st and i won't shut up abt the new song anytime soon - especially since it's coming out AGAIN in a couple of hours!!!!! sit tight, this is gonna be a long ride.
let's break things down a bit, because i need to process the entire thing and this means i have to make lists and explain and ponder on what i write then fix it and keep writing and whatever
1] ivan's past 2] ivan's adoption by unsha + wife [or, a symbol of love for a character who deems himself unlovable] 3] ivan at anakt, with other characters 4] mimetic strategy 5] ivan and till [cheer up?] 6] the making of ivan's character - by ivan himself 7] meteor shower [or, the turning point of the narrative] 8] sua, hypocrisy and how it may not have been totally intended on ivan's part - until it was 9] nowhere 10] black sorrow 11] ivan, love and his shallow emotion 12] cure
i'll start here with the first 4-5 points
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let me say i have no access to the patreon stuff, so what i know is based on: twt, original material on yt, twt again, ppl's fan arts and talking and my own delulu brain. also, i love ivan, so i may be not-totally-reliable on certain things, but you got the idea.
1] ivan's past.
what i know is that he lived in the slums - so filth, violence, a life dominated by a perpatual sense of insecurity (and with this i mean a lack of stability related to survivability, not strictly personality-wise), poor health and poverty was probably ivan's dailiness.
he wasn't alone - there were other kids, they probably lived all clustered togehter - for warmth, protection, complicity, company? also maybe, just like till and his provider/mother, they belonged to some sort of human factory, only this was probably illegal, given the differences in conditions. what we can infer is that life for him was far from violence-free; that ivan knows how to light a fire with rocks from his life in the slums, probably to fend off the cold; that he got used to insults, denigration, mistreatments as something that is part of his daily life.
this routine shapes his view of the world - as something dangerous, where one needs to be practical if they won't to survive, where misbehaving leads to death. it also shapes the way he sees himself, highlighting flaws more than his value and merits.
that being said, did he know abt the "cries"? abt how precious human singing is to aliens? i am honestly not quite sure abt this, but i guess he didn't. if he was "produced" in an illegal factory, it was probably only for the sake of becoming an anonymous pet-human - we know not all of them can sing in alien stage.
what we identify as an abusive, brutal, cruel treatment (objectively speaking) was ivan's daily life. his perception of it is inevitably different from ours/how it would be perceived from an external pov - or to be more exact, from an unaltered (?) pov.
[no wonder the song sounds so laidback, resigned - he is used to it.]
once deemed ready/aged enough (?), the kids are taken away, ready for auction - i guess. they probably tried to run away together, helping each other out
[though i wonder: i'd say they can identify other kids as good/comrades and aliens as bad/captors, but from various illustrations, they seems to live in the streets, albeit possibly controlled by aliens all the same. do they have enough food for everyone? is it evenly distributed? i guess not. so not all kids maybe saw each other positively. maybe they even betrayed each other for the sake of survival. poor babies...]
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i was saying. they probably tried to run away. we see it in r3, glimpses of pre-anakt ivan. we know ivan is good at escaping/evading alien guards, and he must have picked it up somewhere (the hard way, since he was clearly captured here). here, they are taken away from the slums (?) to the auctions place (?), where ivan then gets adopted by unsha.
i'm guessing the alien here is threatening him to behave - they shouldn't rough the kids up too much, or else they'd be hard to sell, right?
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what i find heartbreaking here is how ivan looks tired and resigned. he is so little and he must have experience so many negative inputs. he is so used to it that he is not even watching the alien - his eyes are focused on the sky. i guess it wasn't much visible from the slums, so it may be the first time? and he sees meteors.
now, for someone living in such a dark environment (both figuratively and concretely), falling stars must have been so touching, so beautiful, yet so painful - for being so far and so gorgeous and making him feel moved.
it's like when we listen to a beautiful song or see a wonderful painting or read a book that touches our souls - art does that to you. it's a selfless form of love, something left by someone else, a gift. of course there are tears in his eyes, falling stars are a wonderful sight for everyone, so i can understand ivan being awestruck by it.
[he sees the stars and maybe his little kid heart starts hoping? but then aliens treat him like an object, like an either-you-behave-or-it-won't-end-well and he starts to believe that an existence like his is destined to violence/negative things]
he must have partly feel frustrated, right? different emotions at play, all at once, can be overwhelming. he has tears in his eyes while he his held by the alien and suspended on empty air, he must also be scared, but in a very resigned way. no wonder he numbed is heart down.
2] this leads us to his adoption and unsha.
i guess ivan's demeanour fit unsha's plan - calm, smart, self-sufficient, not demanding in terms of attentions. the fact that he can sing must be a plus, and unsha is nothing but a business-alien, so he invests in ivan.
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ivan's commodification starts right at his adoption.
as far as i know, he is adopted as a gift to unsha's wife for valentine's day, which "becomes" his birthday. we don't even know when he is actually born, which is so sad i wanna bang my head somewhere.
he becomes the object of someone else's marriage, a symbol of love without being at the receiving end of that form of affection. he probably doesn't know what love is, nor has he supposedly heard of it, so again, what he doesn't know remains far from his knowledge (but not from ours).
ivan represents love but does not benefit from it, emotionally. what he gains from it, is a "better" or more stable living environment. ivan has learned to be practical, we said, so he sees how having a roof on his head, food in his stomach and better sanitary conditions are all logical reasons to keep playing to unsha's tune despite him being an alien. we see him behaving - a party is thrown for him (fan meeting info: we know parties are thrown for his birthdays by unsha), he wins some sort of award (?), he practises singing.
all with the same, numb-like expression. he does how he is told and he survives. that's the end of the deal.
3] here comes anakt, friendship and love.
now. what forms of affection could ivan have come to know up to this point? a comradery-like sort of family in the slums? if that's the case, it should be a co-dependent/independent type of relation, where all the kids depended on each other to survive but were aware of being ultimately on their own - until someone either died or betrayed or got taken away. so it was born out of desperation and to fend off loneliness.
ivan doesn't know what healthy love is. doesn't know how it is to rely on someone completely and then slowly learn to stand on your own feet and become a person upon whom others can rely. doesn't know how to balance his need for someone's closeness while respecting the other person's indipendence. no such things have been taught to him in the slums - no adult, healthy humans were probably in his life (long enough?) to pose as models.
teachers at anakt were worried about him not being able to form relationships with others (i think this info is in the public diaries from anakt garden?), and there are comments of anakt kids not having many info abt him or not knowing how to approach him.
4] so what changes? ivan starts to imitate his peers' way of socially interacting with each other
kids in anakt are not like the kids in the slums. they live "healthily", they study and develop skills, they create bonds, they play in the garden - it seems like the perfect receipt for a "normal" childhood, though we know what hides beyond the system. but it is the first time ivan experiences all this, and with his life-baggage? seeing how carefree many children are there (mizi, for example), how can he not notice how different him and them are? what comes natural to others is foreign to him.
he is not the only one to notice. aliens probably criticized this of him, forcing him to train how to smile to appear more friendly and child-like. ivan was not used to kids his age being carefree, so it must have been hard for him to approach them and appear approachable. he inevitably links his ability to make himself liked to how friendly and natural his smile looks, so he practices alone. what else? i already said this in my analysis of black sorrow, but i think that in order to fit in, ivan observed other kids and tried to imitate them.
the problem was that while they behaved spontaneously, ivan's reaction must have seemed forced, especially in the beginning. he sees everyone doing this funny thing stretching their lips that lightens their faces, as he is "taught" during medical experimentation. he tries, he trains, and slowly, he integrates. he becomes good at studying, he obeys and notices positive results in himself, adult aliens like him, his values as a commodity in his business relationship with unsha increases.
he is usefull, skilled, liked. eyes are on him, but he has grown numb to it all - out of survival instict. in the slums, he probably tried not to attract too much attention, so studying to be a performer and be good at it must require a certain effort to adapt. what helps is probably the fact that all the other children were going through similar things, so by observing them, just like he does with his smiling exercises, he knows he can learn. he can become better, become more useful, ensure himself good chances of survival.
5] and then, his heart stirs.
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i don't think it was love at first sight - let's not reduce this to love, for ivan and alnst characters offer us a whole spectrum of emotions.
ivan is too pragmatic for that, and his love - his obsession - for till seems to spark and then grow the more he observes him. at the beginning, it is not even abt affection, imo. no, it's that all children have rules to follow and routines to abide to, even the painful ones, but there is this cute boy with fiery teal eyes raging against the darkness, shining the brightest when he lets emotions consume him, and ivan can't stop looking because he is gathering data observing others and trying to be like them. and he can't understand till.
i feel like crying if i think abt how much till must have affected little ivan, to the point that we know he associates till with the most beautiful thing he saw right after coming out of the slums - falling stars. there is something painfully romantic abt it, which also enforces the narrative of ivan self-assigning the role of the tragic-love character to himself.
[after all, none of them knows love. no, none of them knows how articulate and complex love is, they probably only know scattered definitions coming from books aliens have abt humans behaviours and traditions. ivan likes literature. he probably read abt love there, and lacking the direct experience of family-love or other healthy forms of love, he can only research what love may be about from there and from what surrounds him]
so till comes into his life and, like ivan does with everyone else, he observes him. till behaves in ways that go against the norm ivan had come to know, accept and adopt as line guide. ivan has all the reasons to categorize till as annoying; despite that, despite being aware of what makes till different and a stranger to the model ivan built in his head, he finds himself drawn to him. we could say that till is one of the most important sparks of humanity lighting up inside ivan.
[i think people whose emotions are numbed/strictly controlled by rationality tend to be interested/attracted (not romantically or sexually, or not only) by those who are fiery and open abt them, like puzzle pieces that fit together.
what we see in black sorrow speaks abt the inevitable attraction ivan comes to feel for till. that this emotion, for ivan, becomes love, is another matter, because not everything needs to be read as romantic. but before that, we see kid-ivan finding in kid-till something that is worth his attention and devotion - something that easily becomes ivan's light in the dark.]
i think one of the reasons he liked orbiting around till is that till doesn't care abt him pretending, abt his perfect smiles, abt the things he has to fix in order to be approachable to other kids' eyes. no matter what ivan does to rile till up, till doesn't let ivan fool him.
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i imagine getting till's attention must have been hard, for ivan. till feels to me like a love-at-first-sight character, so he may have fallen in love with mizi the moment he saw her, not perceiving ivan's gaze on him. when till watches mizi and sua playing with flowers and wants to do the same, ivan probably didn't think much abt trumpling on the flower crown - he just wanted to attract till's attention. he suceeded. violence + riling till up seems a good receipt to achieve what ivan wants.
he keeps doing that, and with time, he understands when he can push and when he has to stop. he realizes how much more sensible than him till is, and i think he learns to cherish this side of till, as well as make it a part of himself. ivan becomes gentler. that is probably why he offered a truce at a certain point (thank you vivimeng fan meeting drawings!!), saying to till that he found it annoying to always have to measure his force to avoid hurting him too much.
loving till starts by trying to imitate him. ivan observes him, knows he can't be like him, reacts to till in unexpected and hard-to-control ways, and feels emotions that are entirely his own. for someone who had grown numb to his surrounding, how strange and terrifying and exciting must have been!
he cheers flower up fully knowing it is useless, imitating and humoring till - and then does the same, spontaneously i'd say, during the interview preceeding his doom and in the room where he finds till before r6, nuzzling till's face tenderly, trying to cheer him up. ivan imitates, absorbs and delivers - but only with till, it seems, he finds himself doing things more spontaneously, uncalculated, things that are not much logical or beneficial to him.
[growing up, maybe he thinks that's love, tries to label it as much, but feels like his emotions lacks the pureness and intensity of mizi and sua's love, so he thinks he can't call it that - instead, he goes for "shallow emotion"]
PART 2
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front-facing-pokemon · 11 days ago
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