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choicesficwriterscreations · 2 years ago

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CFWC Writer of the Month: the-pale-goddess

Each month CFWC highlights one of our talented fanfic writers, and this month’s writer of the month is @the-pale-goddess! We hope you will enjoy learning more about her and her work below! The writer is selected at random. More info can be found on the navigation page.

Quick Links:

Tumblr Blog: the-pale-goddess Blog Masterlist

1- When did you start playing Choices? What was the first book you played?

I downloaded Choices in an extremely terrifying moment of my life in late 2019. I was seeing the ads everywhere and thought that this game might serve as a fairly decent distraction. Well, I wasn’t wrong skfjksjfk

I’m not sure which one was actually the first, but it was either the default TRR or Save The Date promoted at that time.

2- When and why did you join Choices fandom?

My obsession with Open Heart and Ethan Ramsey tied nicely with the release of the second book in 2020. The lockdown allowed me to explore this fictional world further, so I started looking for more content. I found the legendary Denise, aka @justanotherrookie, while lurking on IG. That’s when my long-forgotten Tumblr account came to my mind, and I logged in with the intention of scrolling through the tags to satisfy my EJR thirst.

3- How did you pick your blog name?

Oh, dear…It’s very silly! My skin is extremely pale and I have always been obsessed with music; hence the combo.

Fun fact: this account is quite old (though still not as old as my tumbroke card; I had like three other accounts before this one), and I was slightly embarrassed to enter a new fandom with my dusty aesthetic blog signed by some ominous name, but decided to go with the flow. Then the-pale-goddess has become my brand, and it was too late for any changes–anyone who has changed their URL knows how problematic blogging is afterward.

4- Pull up the first post in your archive, and tell us about it!

My first fandom post was inspired by the frustrating ending of the softball chapter AND the first hiatus announcement…It didn’t age well. As we all know, Ethan & MC didn’t ‘talk about it.’ What’s more, we had to survive a long OH drought before PB decided to resume the second book.

Three years later, the very same shitpost is still the most popular Choices post on my silly little blog lol

5- How long have you been writing fanfiction?

3 years, fanfiction is my pandemic baby! Though I’ve been writing since I was a kid, it was mostly poetry and never in English. But as time passed, I got more occupied with my teenage life and eventually lost motivation to write. That old passion resurfaced several years later, at the beginning of the pandemic. Apart from the obvious need for distraction from the COVID situation, I was frustrated that my English skills were getting rusty, so I decided to dive in.

6- What is your favorite Choices book, and what is your favorite Choices book to write about?

No surprise here: Open Heart (the first book) and Open Heart 😂 I never tried writing about any other Choices book.

7- Share the first fanfic you wrote with us. Do you still like it, or would you change it if you were writing it today?

Miami Heat aka my smutty Miami AU. The concept is brilliant, but the execution…Yikes! I often think of rewriting the entire thing because the writing is amateur at best and my inner perfectionist cringes whenever I think of this mini-series.

8- What is your favorite fic that you’ve written?

It all depends on my mood, so here’s a list of my favorites!

9- Do you have a fic that you didn’t expect to be well received, but it was? What about one you expected to be but found could use a little more love?

Cabin Fever - apparently this 69 plotless smut is iconic for some reason? I don’t really get the hype. It has an insane amount of kudos on ao3, my other fics can’t compare lol

Burnt - Book 1 mutual pining E&T classic and one of my absolute favorites (we’re talking top 3); it could definitely use a little more love!

10- If you could write only angst, fluff, or smut for the rest of your writing life, which would it be and why?

I’ll shock you all and say that I wish I could write fluff for the rest of my life kjgkdgjkdf But since I suck at it, I’d love to be stuck with angst and a dash of smut.

It’s probably a sad thing to admit, but I feel the most comfortable while writing angst. The realism of pain and the emotions that follow are simply very familiar, and it’s easy for me to conjure up a creative image to match the idea. Besides, there’s so much to explore in the angsty realm: all the flavor, nuance, layers, and symbolism. The possibilities are endless!

Smut doesn’t need an explanation, does it? I live on the thirst street 🤡

11- Do you ever recognize yourself in any of your MCs or in your writing?

I do. That’s probably why Open Heart got me sucked right in–OH MC felt very real and relatable, I couldn’t help but see bits of myself in her. Though we share many traits and experiences, Tiffany definitely isn’t an extension of me. I poured my heart and soul into this woman, but she has become her own person and I try to avoid self-projecting into her character unless there’s a clear purpose.

12- What element of writing do you struggle with most?

Recently, I have been struggling with writing in general lol The internet is ruthless!

My biggest issue is that self-loathing perfectionist who doesn’t let me enjoy the process, nothing seems to be good enough for her, and that attitude dims my motivation and hinders creativity.

On a more technical note, I absolutely suck at describing basic movement. I could churn out a long essay on a character’s internal struggle explaining the most complex emotions or a 4K elaborate smut, but when it comes to finding the right words to portray the simplest action, like walking down the stairs or setting the scene for an early morning conversation at the hospital, I feel lost kdhdkhdkdb

13- Do you have any neglected work you really want to finish?

Pretty much all of my WIPs are neglected 🤡 But here are the most important projects I’m hoping to finish at some point in the not-too-distant future:

Home With You AU

Past, Present, Future

My Way Home Is Through You

14- If someone you know in real life (who isn’t involved in fandoms) asked to read your work, would you let them? If yes, what would you recommend they read first?

Since fanfic is based on an existing work of fiction, and the core plotlines and characters should be well-known to the readers, I guess it could be a tedious and confusing read for someone who isn’t involved in the fandom. But then I have received comments from people unfamiliar with OH who have stumbled upon my fics and gave them a chance, so maybe I’m wrong lol

I like to think that I would be okay with sharing my works with someone I know and trust in real life, but let’s be honest: my crippling anxiety would stop me ksjfkjssd However, if I were to pick a fic rec, I’d choose Heaven Upside Down AU because it doesn’t need an extensive OH knowledge. Plus, I’m very proud of this series.

15 - Are there any writers (published authors and/or fanfic writers) who influenced your writing?

While I try to keep my writing style unique and simply mine, there are three lovely ladies who had a huge impact on my writing journey:

@writinghereandthere (aka an actual genius and my writing role model) was the direct source of inspiration behind my fanfic revelation. I fell in love with Ethan and Mariana, Ana’s beautiful prose, her wit, unparalleled talent, and fantastic characterization. Her writing changed the trajectory of my life. Though she left the fandom long ago, her masterlist is a must-read for everyone, trust me! (Ana, if you’re reading this: I miss you more than words can convey. Sorry for the spam I leave in your inbox every now and then skgjksgjk Hope to hear about your original work soon ❤️)

@starrystarrytrouble & @terrm9 - these two literary geniuses have inspired me to follow my own writing path and develop a distinctive style. Their masterpieces offer poetic, raw emotions, encouraging me to allow myself more creative freedom. I’m in constant awe of their unmatched talent and come back to their works whenever I want to feel things ❤️

16- Which one of your stories would you most like to see as a movie/series?

Can I have all of them, please?

I would pay all my money to watch a TV series based on my canon OH plotline…I’m not kidding, I even made a bunch of Netflix edits because I need it in my life. On the other hand, my precious AUs would look amazing on the big screen! The most scrumptious one still hasn’t left my head though, so you have to trust me–the cinematic potential is truly there kdgjkdgjk 17- Do you write original fiction?

I have a few ideas, but they’re so complex I’m stuck on the outlining phase. Mayhaps one day?

18 - What other hobbies do you have?

I’m a certified music freak and a cinephile. I practice destroying male egos on a daily basis. I love photography, niche sports, playing with my dog, lifting people’s moods, random unhinged facts, and ignoring reality, and I have just entered my skincare expert era.

19 - What’s your favorite emoji?

🥰 + ✨ + 💀

These three emojis perfectly encapsulate who I am as a person, I think: full of love and magic, but also dead inside ksjgksjgks

20: BONUS - tell us anything you’d like (if you want to)

I’d like to thank our lovely admins for giving me this exciting opportunity to ramble about my tiny corner on this hellsite and showcase my word vomit. My heart is full of gratitude! I may not be as active as I used to be, and real life doesn’t allow me to change that, but our fandom will always have a special place in my heart, and I feel very lucky to be a part of this community. Thank you for still putting up with me and supporting my fictional world ❤️❤️❤️

#cfwc writer of the month #open heart #the-pale-goddess #choices fic writers creations #choices fanfic #playchoices fanfic #writer of the month #tiffany addams

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ravenatural · 1 year ago

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15 Questions tag game

The rules are: Answer the 15 questions and tag 15 of your mutuals.

Tagged by @echoghost1 , ty Echo!! :D

1. Are you named after anyone?

Ohh okay so this one is kinda fun because I technically am on four counts! My legal first and middle names both came from two different people ( one a famous author, the other my great great great ( great? I think it’s 4 ) aunt. The other two counts come from chosen names! while I’m not positive how much raven counts ( chosen at 13 because of raven teen titans haha ), Alva is another name I chose for myself that came from an ancestor on my moms side

2. When was the last time you cried?

Last week? I think? Shit’s been kinda stressful all of a sudden

3. Do you have kids?

I babysat a couple of kids for a few months when I was like 18-ish and worked a job that had a daycare room, and I absolutely adored them to the point my mom started referring to them as my kids, but I am neither a legal guardian nor still in contact since the place went out of business so I’m gonna have to answer no to that one

4. What sports do you play/have played?

Ohh man okay i don’t think I’ve done any sports since I was like. 10 years old, max. I briefly did soccer, and then basic ballet and tap lessons; I had a couple group recitals, but never advanced past flats, and honestly did not retain even muscle memory on anything

5. Do you use sarcasm?

I can’t because I’m the kind of awkward that struggles with tone inflection and quick wit so when I try people always think I’m serious 😔

6. What's the first thing you notice about people?

Something that can be complimented, generally.

Like, one of the things I do as someone with a customer facing job, is actively look for things to complement people on, for a multitude of reasons. It’s def not some kind of a requirement for my position, but more just that I like to break up the basic check-out process a little by finding something that I can genuinely appreciate ( which, the more I’ve done this the wider an appreciation of people’s personal style preferences I’ve had in general ) and communicating to them I like it, which never fails to brighten up an interaction.

It’s honestly really great too, because people often like to share the story behind the things I compliment, and I love to hear those stories, so it’s a good balance I think!

7. What's your eye color?

I’ve always been told they’re brown but I’m like 98% certain they’re actually hazel? But the definitions of hazel I see are very, well, hazy tbh, and I’m afraid to commit to being 100% certain lmao

8. Scary movies or Happy endings?

I like both BUT the happy endings I’d really like to have a lot of toil and angst and maybe a lil tragedy first—I want that happy ending to have blood stains that are over time bleached away by sunlight, but forever imprinted onto the fabric

9. Any talents?

Idk if I’d describe myself as talented in any manner, but that’s mostly because I prefer to think in terms of skill-set over natural talent

That said, I have never formally—or informally really, for that matter—studied gemstones, but I can recognize and name a decent number of them on sight relatively easily, and have ID’d multiple pieces of tanzanite jewelry first try ( something where every individual, all unrelated, who was wearing said jewelry have said I’m the first person to not only think it was something other than sapphire, but to also know instantly. All I can really offer as to how I know is “its just the way it is” because ig the color and shine differences aren’t as easily noticeable to everyone else? ). It’s a side effect of having a detail focused mind that I’m honestly really proud of

10. Where were you born?

Nice try sucker you’re not getting the answer to my online account security question THAT easily

11. What are your hobbies?

Drawing

opening new tabs from my YouTube recommendations side bar for every song title that looks interesting and seeing how much new music I can find in one sitting before I get bored

finding hyper specific and sometimes rare things people I know haven’t been able to find and then buying it for them

googling the fuck out of some random ass thing that just came up in conversation until I have a bunch of new fun facts on the subject

sewing

and more!

12. Do you have any pets?

LOTS

context: my family runs a small hobby farm, + we have our indoor pets ( only cats for indoor now ), we’ve had a variety of livestock over the years, but currently it’s just sheep and chickens for outdoor

13. How tall are you?

Just a lil over 5’5” but not quite 5’6” ( no I don’t need to be that specific but the doctor commented on it last time she took my height and damn if I won’t take the small win )

14. Favourite subject in school?

Mmmmm I’m gonna automatically disqualify art just to make this slightly more challenging for myself.. probably Astronomy? Tbh I’ve never been able to wrap my head around enough math concepts to understand a lot of science formulas, so that whole portion of it didn’t quite work out for me, but I enjoyed the fuck outta reading the textbook

15. Dream Job?

Oh okay this one is actually really specific, but. Making an anime / cartoon style comic and / or illustrations and maybe a variety of other artwork for NASA, no this position does not exist but I want it IMMENSELY

Hooooo this got a LOT longer than I expected lmao

trying to avoid tagging mutuals I’ve already seen tagged in this one, obvi feel free to ignore if you don’t wanna do it ( we’re low stakes tagging in this household )

@zrllosyn

@magiwou-meowvin

@13threbagel

@lactoseparty

@aggressivelyclueless

@mcfanely

@cosmicteafox

@tunafishprincess

@ukiinas ( I silently salute you for being my longest standing mutual 🫡 )

…and anyone else who’d like to! ( I don’t feel like digging through my followers to fill the list to max shajsisoa have at it fellas )

#Tag game #Ask game #15 questions tag game #long post #ravens ravings

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butmakeitgayblog · 2 years ago

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Do you have any advice for fan fiction writers who aren't getting many readers etc? I feel like giving up some days but I love writing and find fan fiction my personal therapy if that makes sense. I'd love any advice you can give or any suggestions. 💕

Well, honestly I'm not any kind of authority so take whatever I say with a grain of salt. Because honestly, I never really thought I'd get any kind of following to begin with 😕 this surprised me, and still does to this day, more than anyone. When I started posting my first fic (very nervously and through the feeling like I was going to throw up) I thought "well, I'll just write a few chapters and probably no one will ever read it and I'll get bored and it'll be out of my system." And now here we are, and I have no idea how that happened 😳

What advice I can give is, you can't write for the sake of other people. I know that sounds cheap as hell because the whole point of sharing fic is to get feedback and interact with others in the fandom, but really at the heart of it you have to just write stories that you like and you want to read above everything else. Keep writing. Keep growing. Keep refining your work and your style so no matter what the view count is, you know you're becoming a better writer regardless. And truth be told, you never know what idea or fic will hit with readers and what won't. You may write something and think oh no one is gonna gaf about this and then out of nowhere, that's what people love. It happens more than you know.

Another thing is - and this is going to sound harsh at first but bear with me please - in this day and age sadly you have to manage your expectations. Not because you don't deserve more readers or comments or because your work isn't good, but because the culture of fandom and fanfic/fanart is changing, and not for the better. There's dozens of posts that make the rounds on here passively warning people about how a lot of writers and artists are getting burned out and fed up with the lack of reciprocal community from their audience. Tiktok and IG and all that shit has kind of ruined the landscape of fandom because now everything is seen as just consumption based. More and more people read a fic and move on, binge a show and move on, burn through a fandom's entire AO3 content in 3 months and move on, and it sucks. I mean when you look at fandoms of old, the days of Xena and Buffy for example, a lot of those fans are still around and still participating and still creating work even though the show/fandom/ships are long gone. You don't really see that loyalty much anymore, and it becomes a cycle of the fandom shrinking and then the feedback and comments and support grinds to a halt, and then creators stop feeling like wasting hours of their life to pour themselves into work that gets maybe a handful of comments even though they see hundreds or thousands of people have read it. It just sucks all around. So expecting to see the numbers that a fic did even 3-5 years ago, sadly, just isn't going to happen.

BUT

I do also know this, the Clexa fandom has been one of the best fandoms I've ever been in, both as just a fan on the outskirts and someone who tries to contribute. I've found Clexas to be funny and welcoming and we have a core group of fucking awesome and loyal, supportive readers, but the thing is you have to keep going. Sometimes building an audience and a regular group of readers takes time. Name recognition matters. Yes there are writers out there that are just synonymous with the fandom, but there's other writers (hi yes hello me, I mean me lol) who came late to the party and it's taken some time to get people to see their work. Tagging things and reblogging, talking in tags, reaching out to other people in the fandom and making friends who want to help you with your work because you help support theirs. All that stuff. It makes a difference. Damn near every week or so I get a new reader saying "wow idk how I hadn't heard of you before/read your stuff before but I'm glad I found it, keep going!" And that 100% will never have even the possibility of happening if you stop writing!

In the end, you just have to decide what's best for you. If this feels incredibly unhelpful I truly am sorry, I wish I had better advice to give you but I'm as clueless to this all as you are. But 2 things I do know for sure without a doubt? One, there is a place for you in any fandom, and your work does matter. There is an audience out there who want to read what you have to write and they'll love it. And two, in the end just be kind to yourself. Love yourself and be proud of yourself for trying, and for being creative and growing your work. Fanfic is supposed to be fun, writing about your favorite blorbos is meant to be fun, even if more often than not it feels like the equivalent of just dancing alone in your kitchen. Ya get what I mean?

#anon #writing

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someonewhos-world · 10 months ago

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TWIN HEADCANONS

Slow ass tumblr isn't gonna stop me

>Jett and Jack are Puerto Rican and Italian

>Jett babysits for a family that lives a floor under their apartment and Jack tags along bc he loves to tire out the kids while Jett takes care of the baby.

>Three cats,one dog, two boys and one very overworked mom? Giant nap pile in the living room.

>Jack works nightshifts which works bc hes a night owl but also really bad bc he has school the very next day but also good bc less people yk

>Jett sticks to the babysitting, it feeds into his napping habits because by the time the parents show up, it's just this scary looking teenager on their couch, baby against his side with its head supported on his elbow and two kids watching old cartoons like looney tunes or Tom and Jerry.

>They did eventually move back to New York after a few years, they loved Canada but New York will always be their home.

>BROOKLYN BABIES they live by old Fulton by the waters.

>Internshipping with Chris?? Yk how he forgot to feed the interns that one episode? Yeah, Jett was running on a caffeine high and Jack was foaming at the mouth like an animal with rabies bc he had too much candy.

>those crashes were the worst bc they looked dead and it took a while to recover

>Genderswapped tho???

>Jess' cats are the dumbest motherfuckers known to man. They somehow end up in Canada at Jody's place for food.

>Jace's cat is the only normal one. Mostly. If it isnt the middle of the night.

>Back to normal, them cats are crazy but they also have a dog. His name is Wally :3

>The boys love their pets, although Jack wont stop feeding the pigeons outside so ig they have birds too.

>Jack came out those sewers dressed like a ninja turtle and Jett pulled up with a hotdog.

>The twins didnt use the steel wool rope Cheis had. They're new Yorkers. New Yorkers find ways to graffiti on trains that are in the air and on buildings they probably dont live in.

>wait

>sorry I remembered how a lady climbed onto the statue of Liberty in protest. Bc the twins scamper up the statue like squirrels.

>Jett definitely has blackmail on people. Because he talked to Sierra.

>Jack is still afraid of Sierra. Very afraid. Jett is mostly indifferent now but. He can feel the glare sometimes on his back when he talks to Cody.

>genderswapped twins are the same. No matter the gender, the twins fear Sierra and her strength. Never her height, they think shes cool for being tall but they fear her strength and mindset. She's unpredictable and they grew up with unpredictable. They dont like her.

>when Jett naps, Jack sits with him and the cats join. Wally joins too but he wakes Jett up by accidentally smothering him bc hes a very big dog.

>Jack never naps, hes running on sugar and a will to live.

>Jett runs on one iced vanilla frappuccino.

>Jack can be very mean, when push comes to shove. Hes gonna shove and hes gonna shove hard. He will defend people and wont hesitate to get nasty

>Jett has a soft side, he's open to those who need a shoulder to vent to. He'd have his headphones on but when he tilts his head towards you, you know hes listening.

>they dont know how weather works. Not all the time.

That's all I have for today!! I'll reblog this and add more when I come up with more!! You're also open to make headcanons of your own about the twins or ask about them!!

#the wormshark speaks #oc #total drama oc #my oc headcanons #i love my boys #i might give them their own tag at some point

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voyeuristicvixen · 2 years ago

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Capt’s Log No. 41_ FrEeEeEEe

Meroe’s Juneteenth Jam was a great success! Lots of people came out and enjoyed the festivities and all the performances were so inspiring! One day we had 100+ people touching down on the sim and at the end of the event, Strawberry Linden herself came through, it was a highlight of my whole SL experience not gunna lie. Strawberry is a humble and gracious person and Secondlife featured our event on their socials the next day. It was all just really fun and it also happened to be my first time helping to plan and execute an event for the museum in my pops Ras’s absence. It felt really good to know I made him proud. .

H.E.R performed! I absolutely love the messaging in her songs, it was the perfect way to open up the festival and to solidify the vibes of Meroe moving forward. Juneteenth is not a holiday that my pops, or I, celebrate like that... for us, the movement is a constant endeavor. We dont stop with juneteenth in the unifying of our people and diaspora, or in the upliftment and teachings. Its something that has to continue until we are truly free in mind and spirit. We are almost there! But there is still a ways to go.

Father’s day was a difficult day for Yemi and I, her dad has not been able to get online and I honestly didn’t feel or think he would care anymore about us or her. We talked today though and are friends so when he gets back on the grid, he will spend time with her. He said she will always be his daughter. That made me feel good, I told him that now Yemi feels more like mine than before because we get to spend more one on one time together. Lol But shes still a daddy’s girl at heart.

We still in our pink lady era though, I feel like since I lost my old IG page and went through the break up with Wav, people who were following our work and union have since been on different vibes with me. LMAO. I resonate with the pink ladies because they have rumors spread about them and reputations that are controversial or tarnished in some way by the general public and yet they give no fucks and they continue to do what they do regardless. Thats how I feel. People will talk and say whatever they want, FUCKEM.

We got a new dog, Orion! It took me forever to settle on a pupper that fit me and finally found this guy. My first choice was so opposite him, was a doberman! But I love Orion’s personality! It shines through more than any of the other pets I saw in the RezzRoom!

I usually write my little caption paragraphs under the photos and I realize these have all been above. I wonder which flows better. So I got accepted as a Secondlife Mentor! \o/ I literally signed up as soon as I saw the flyer I wasted NO TIME. Its something I was already doing on my free time anyway, so to be official with the tag and training it means so much to me, manifested that shit!

Last week I also got to witness my first probate, I have never been to one before and I know so little about SL greek life. It is a whole other world to me. I like how they raise money for RL causes. I think that is really dope and powerful thing that a virtual roleplay organization can still create real life change through their endeavors. It was such a honor to be asked by Gigi to witness that momentus occasion in her SL journey.

I legitly cried IRL. Anything that has to do with sisterhood, it hits home for me and triggers me deeply. I wish that someday I can be apart of that but I wont hold my breath! lol

I think its really cool that I am suddenly apart of a SL family, we’re so chill laid back and unofficial with how we do things. We dont all have to share the same last name we just uplift and support one another. I got my pops and my brother and my mama bear, DONT MESS WITH US!

The closing ceremony of juneteenth featured this great “Enter the diaspora” exhibit which is still up and you should go see it this week! This was curated by Valentine and she did an amazing job on it! I ended up DJing the party, and it gave me a chance to get in some much needed practice. I look forward to collabing with Jamrock and building up the mystory connections to its best!

The theme was comics, black and queer. I dressed as Nubia! Did you know that Nubia is a lesbian? I did not know that till I came to this exhibit. Theres so many hidden gems here!

Storm block the wind so I can light my joint! XD

#secondlife #secondlifeblog #secondlifeblogger #blackgirlbloggers #blog #secondlifephotography #second life roleplay #mystory #meroemuseum #metaversemuseum #metaverse #secondlifeavatars #secondlifemodel

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in-ky · 3 years ago

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Hi! I’d love a story about Negan being a serial killer who only kills “bad people” (like in Dexter) and maybe he saves the reader from her ex who’s about to kill her and Negan can save her and takes her in because she’s a mess but she’s actually a killer herself (who kills rapists etc/ only the bad ones) and Negan and the reader start fighting and then get caught up in steamy hot sex 🥵 thank you!

Savior - Negan Killer AU

Warnings: Warnings: GORE + violence, smut, domestic abuse, swearing, dirty talk ig? idk how to tag this lol

A/N: hey! i struggled over this one for a while lol. ive only seen like. 3? episodes of dexter so. i really hope this meets your expectations! also forgive any mistakes its late, im tired, and i wanna get this up lol. also, is negan batman? maybe. 3.7k words

"Will, stop you're hurting me!" I hissed, grabbing at his wrist. He tugged me out of the bustling restaurant and into the dark street.

"I don't really give a shit," He snarled, throwing me into a secluded alleyway a few buildings down from the restaurant. Will had taken me out to a business dinner with his boss in hopes of showing me off and making a good impression. But things didn't quite go according to plan. "You embarrassed me in front of everyone!" He pushed me against the brick wall of the closed department store.

"What was I supposed to do?" I sneered, trying to wiggle away from him "He kept commenting on my body, saying how he wished he could take me home at the end of the night and do all kinds of 'unspeakable things to me'."

"You were just supposed to shut up and take it!" Will said, voice filled with rage "But no, you and your untamable fucking complex just couldn't handle a compliment. You threw your drink in his face! You're lucky he didn't fire me right then and there. You made me look like some pussy who can't control his whore."

"You're an asshole." I shouted, tears welling at the edges of my eyes. Will's face contorted further into a look of pure, unadulterated hatred.

"What the fuck did you just call me?" He seethed, clasping his hand tightly around my throat and constricting his fingers around my airway.

"I said you're an asshole who cares more about his dead-end career than his fucking girlfriend." I croaked. I hated him. I hated him so much. My vision clouded with the combination of disgust, loathing, and lack of oxygen, so I hit him where I knew it hurt. "There's a reason you needed me for arm candy tonight. It's 'cause you're a boring, piece-of-shit, lowlife who has no skill whatsoever. How does it feel knowing you need me to make something of yourself?" With that, he threw me to the ground by my throat. He wasted no time and pinned me to the cold concrete. His knees dug into my shoulders and his hand flew to his back pocket, whipping out the switchblade he carried as a precaution against mugging. My eyes widened as they caught a glint of the moonlight off the sharp knife. He brought the blade up to my throat and slapped me over the cheek harshly with his free hand.

"You better take back those words, bitch," He hissed, pressing the blade into the soft skin of my jugular "or they might just be your last." A dribble of blood ran down my neck with the pressure. Realization flashed through my mind. I could die right then. That could have been my last moment. Was I scared? No. Why wasn't I scared? Maybe it had to do with the shadowy figure that was slowly approaching us from the ally entrance.

There was plenty of time for me to warn Will that someone was coming. But I didn't. Instead, I stayed quiet and watched as the shadow figure pulled Will from my body with ease and tossed him to the side. Everything was kind of a blur. I was still oxygen starved and filled with a whirl-wind of emotion. I heard Will cry out in surprise and indignance. The shadow figure said nothing. It saw the switchblade with a steady line of my blood. It kicked Will in the chest, knocking him to the ground. Then it lifted up a baseball bat over its head and cracked it down over Will's skull. He continued to beat Will until he stopped squirming. The shadow figure paused and swung the bat over his shoulder. I had regained my breath and pushed myself to my elbows. The shadow noticed me moving and took a few heavy steps in my direction. I squirmed away slightly, instincts telling me to get away from the thing that had just pulverized my boyfriend. The shadow entered a stream of moonlight. It was a man. He had peppered hair and a blood-speckled face. He had dark brown eyes and a small smile perched on his lips.

"You okay, sweetheart?" He said. His voice was deep. I was partially surprised. He wasn't a bulky man. He was tall and had a broad frame, but his limbs were long and his body was lithe. He wore a leather jacket and his boots were slick with what I could only assume were Will's brains. I didn't want to look at his bat.

"W-Why did you do that?" I whispered. It was all I could muster.

"He was going to kill you." The man sounded confused, like I was supposed to know who he was and why he saved me.

"You don't know that." My voice was quiet. My eyes were glued to a spot behind the man, unblinking. He let out a throaty chuckle and dropped to a squat, leveling with me.

"Doll, he had a knife pressed to your throat," His words were gentle "Looked like he was gonna fuckin' kill you." He hesitantly reached out two fingers in the direction of my face. I didn't move. He was wearing leather gloves. The ridged fabric ran along my injuries. "Seems like he did some damage before I could step in. Damn. Sorry about that. Listen, I live a few streets down. If you want, I can get you cleaned up."

"Okay," I said softly. I let him help me up to my feet. He guided me along with one arm while holding his bat with the other. As we walked out of the alley I couldn't help but look down at Will, or what remained of him at least. His forehead was split in half, a pool of chunky blood bubbling on the ground. I clenched my jaw and forced myself to swallow the bile that had risen in my throat. And yet, I didn't feel sad. I didn't mourn him. Maybe it was shock, maybe it wasn't. "Thank you?" I murmured, though it was more of a question. The man and I stepped out onto the street and I was grateful there was no one around to see us leaving the scene of a very heinous-looking crime.

"No problem, doll," The man hummed, setting a brisk pace down the sidewalk. "The name's Negan, by the way." Cool. Negan: my Savior.

~~~

"So you're like Batman?" I asked Negan as he dabbed the blood away from my neck. He gave a short chuckle and tore away the sticky part of the band-aid.

"I guess you can say that," he mused, splaying the bandage over the cut the knife had left "but I specifically go for people that I know have hurt others. The baddies, if you will."

"Is that legal?" I tilted my head, crossing my ankles as they dangled over the bathroom counter. My palms were flat on the surface of Negan's marble sink top, fiddling with the wrappers of the medical supplies he had used to clean and bandage my small cuts and bruises.

"I haven't been caught," Negan shrugged "besides, it's less work for the police. They don't have to do any interrogation bullshit or anything. I usually catch people in the act, like tonight. Then I do my thing."

"Do you kill everyone?"

"Only the bad people," He reminded, tossing away a bloody tissue "only people who have hurt others. But, yes, usually the offender ends up on the business end of Lucille over there." He pointed out the door into the living room, where the still-bloody bat rested against a chair. I furrowed my brow.

"Well, doesn't that make you a bad guy?" I pressed. He tapped my knee and I dropped down to the tile floor, tucking my hair behind my ear and gathering some of the scraps.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you still kill people, right? Even if they're bad? So doesn't that still make you a killer?" Negan was quiet for a minute. "Let's put it this way," I continued "What would you do if you came across someone who was like you; someone who hurt the bad people. Would you still kill them. They're hurting people." Negan took a deep breath and let it out with a contemplative sigh, itching his bearded chin.

"I'm not sure," He mused "I've never really thought about it before. See, I don't consider myself a bad person per say. Yea, what I'm doing might be considered fucked up. But I'm doing it for the right reason. I'm protecting people by attacking their attackers. In the end, someone's saved." He brushed off his hands and led me out of the bathroom, flicking the light off. "Would you rather me not have saved you tonight?"

"No," I said immediately "thank you. Really, thank you. You saved my life. Will is...was...always a dick, but I never thought he'd actually hurt me. I guess that proves people can have a whole bunch of layers." Negan nodded and moved to the kitchen. He raised a bottle of whiskey as an offering. I shook my head but he poured himself a glass.

"I was just doing my job," Negan grinned sympathetically "I'm sorry your boyfriend was an asshole who tried to murder you." I shrugged, amusement in my eyes.

"Eh, it happens to everyone." I smiled as he let out another laugh. I felt as if I shouldn't be laughing, but at the same time, everyone has their own responses to almost getting stabbed to death in an alley. So I let myself have this moment. Besides, Negan was a good guy to be around. He made me feel safe, comfortable, secure. Everything I needed right now. "So, Negan, what do you do? Surely vigilante-ing can't pay well, and this apartment is really nice."

"I'm a retired baseball player," Negan said, sipping his whiskey and settling into one of the armchairs in the living room "Hence the bat."

"Were you any good?" I asked. He let out a loud scoff.

"Was I any good?" He mocked "Sweetheart, I have a whole damn trophy room. I was fucking amazing. I just got old."

"So you're rich with no real job, you kill bad guys, and you have a massive ego," I listed "You really are like Batman, aren't you?"

~~~

Negan let me stay on his couch that night. It was leather, like everything else that man seemed to own, but it was comfortable. I woke up to the smell of bacon filling the air. I groaned and rubbed my fists against my eyes, clearing them of sleep. I stretched my arms above my head in a yawn and rolled off the couch, stumbling into the kitchen. Negan was hunched over the bubbling pan, dodging pellets of grease as they shot up at him.

"Smells good!" I purred, closing my eyes and taking a deep inhale.

"Good," He grumbled "You better fucking enjoy it because I've gotten burned at least three times." I laughed and walked up to him examining the small red patches that dotted his arms.

"You didn't have to make me breakfast you know."

"Yea, but I wanted to make sure you were comfortable," He sighed, turning off the stove and scooping the cooked bacon onto a paper towel. "Besides, I was craving some bacon when I woke up. I haven't had someone to share a meal with in a while."

"Well, if you want, you can come by my house for dinner." I offered, crunching down on a piece of bacon "I've been meaning to whip out the family alfredo recipe for a while, maybe a hot date would give me that incentive." I gave him a playful wink and he chuckled.

"Sure thing, doll," He hummed, putting the pan in the sink "I love me some fucking spaghetti. I'll see you around seven?"

"Sounds good."

~~~

I ran down the sidewalk, chest heaving. There was enough darkness to cover me, but I still kept my head down to prevent recognition. I held my hands close to my stomach, praying that the blood on my fingers wouldn't drip on the pavement and leave a trail. I had been on my way home from the store when I heard some commotion coming from an alley. My first instinct was to run, but then I heard the girl crying for help. Negan came to mind, what he did, how he helped people. I couldn't turn away. I marched down the alley and saw a greasy man pinning a woman to the wall of a building. Flashbacks of the night before hit me like a train. I looked on top of the alley dumpster and saw a crowbar perched on one of the lids. I grabbed it and stormed up to the man, whacking him upside the head with the weapon. I kicked him to the side and brought the crowbar over my head before swinging it down. It connected with his face in a sickening 'thwack.' I thought of Will. I thought of what might of happened if Negan had never stopped him. I thought of all the times that bastard had gotten drunk and told me I was nothing. I let the rage bubble up and fuel my beating. By the time I was pulled back into the moment, my muscles were screaming, the woman was gone, and the man's face was unrecognizable. I tossed the crowbar into the dumpster and ran back home.

Dried blood is extremely hard to wash off. It sticks to your skin in flakes, creating a pattern of red veins crawling over your hands. Fuck. I scrubbed as hard as I could under the rushing water of the sink, pumping more and more soap into my hand. It was under my fingernails. It was stuck in my palm prints. Shit, did I leave fingerprints at the scene? Would they be coming for me? With a hiss, I rubbed even harder at my skin, small flecks of blood turning the sink water red.

Suddenly, my door opened.

"I'm ready for my s'getties!" Negan boomed with a wide smile. My head whipped around, looking at him with wide eyes. His grin faded and he crossed the room in record time, grabbing my wrists and turning the sink off. "Is this fucking blood?" He snarled, bringing my hands up to my face. I clenched my jaw and dropped my eyes to my feet. "Jesus, who's is it? Answer me!"

"I-I heard someone screaming on the way home," I said quietly, eyes still downcast "I thought I would help..." His jaw went slack and he let go of my hands, running his fingers through his hair.

"Jesus fuck, you can't just go around killing people!"

"Why not?" I snapped, eyes meeting his "You do it all the time? What's the difference? Why can't I help people?"

"Because it...Because you just can't!" Negan growled, shaking his head.

"Why are you so special?" I hissed back, drying my hands off on a towel before tossing it at him "It's not like you can get a permit for fucking murder. Why do you do it, anyways? Is it some perverted thing? Do you get off on saving people from attackers?"

"Watch yourself." Negan warned, eyes darkening.

"Pfft, or what?" I laughed, tossing my head back "What are you gonna do, kill me? I'm not afraid of you, Negan." As soon as the words left my mouth, he charged me. His hand flew to my throat, squeezing my airway lightly. His hips pressed me against the counter. I let out a small gasp when he shoved his face next to mine.

"Oh, but doll, you really fucking should be." He spat, curling his lip "I could snap your neck right here, right now." He gave a small squeeze to emphasize his words. I let out a strangled moan. We both froze. "Are you turned on right now?" He muttered, furrowing his brow. I licked my lips and squirmed in his grip, pressing my thighs together slightly in an effort to alleviate the warm pressure growing in my belly.

"No," I lied, voice weak. A sinister grin curled over the bottom half of his face and he licked his tongue over his teeth.

"And I'm the perv, huh?" He sucked on my earlobe and peppered kisses down my jawline "Sweetheart, tell me, do you want me to fuck that pretty little pussy of yours? Do you want me to make you cum harder than you ever have?" I whimpered at his dirty mouth. "Use your words, doll, or I'll leave right fucking now."

"Y-Yes!" I breathed as Negan's lips sucked on the sweet spot right beneath my ear.

"Yes, what, princess?"

"Yes, I want you to fuck me, please!" I groaned, clawing at his shirt. He let out a short chuckle, muttering something about how needy I was, but I didn't care. Right now, the only thought running through my head was that I needed Negan. I needed all of him. And damn me if I wasn't going to get it.

We clawed at each other's clothes like rabid animals. Once we were completely bare, Negan moved his kisses down my body. His large, calloused hands kneaded my breasts, twisting my nipples between his thumbs. My arms flew around his neck and I dragged my fingernails up his back. He shivered against my touch and slid his hands further down my body. They settled firmly on my hips as he captured my lips in a fervent kiss.

"Fuck, sweetheart," he grunted, pulling back for air. I looked at him. His tawny eyes were now black, pupils far beyond dilated with lust. Both of our lips were swollen and red from the intensity of our kisses. Negan's chest inflated and deflated quickly as his eyes roamed over my body. "You're so damn perfect." I smiled sheepishly and pulled my bottom lip between my teeth, looking up at him through lidded eyes.

"You're not so bad yourself," I reached out my hand and used my pointer finger to draw a line from his collar bone down the center of his chest and through his navel, finally ending right over his pulsing cock. He sucked in a breath as my fingers closed around him. My thumb swept over the hot tip, gathering precum on the pad of my finger and rubbing it around.

"Shit," He hissed as I slowly pumped him "I'm not gonna fucking last if you keep doing that." He gently pried my hand away and took a step closer to me. I could feel his hardened length resting against the inside of my thigh. The thought of him being so close made a burst of heat rush down between my thighs. Negan took a long finger and ran it through my folds, collecting my wetness. I moaned as he teasingly dipped the first knuckle into me. He pulled back and let out a low whistle. "Damn, girl," he chuckled, raising his finger to my face "You're fucking dripping. Who's that for?" His slick-coated fingers glistened in the light of my apartment. I let out a deep groan as he slid them between his lips and sucked.

"You, Negan!" I whimpered, wrapping my legs around his waist "It's all for you." A wolfish grin spread over his features as he tugged me off him and pulled me down off the counter. He spun me around and pressed gently between my shoulder blades until my chest was flat against the cold surface.

"Then if you don't mind," Negan cooed, lining himself up with my entrance "I'm going to take what belongs to me." With that, he slowly pushed into me. I gasped at the stretch, balling my hands into fists as he continued to split me open.

"Fucking shit," he groaned once he bottomed out "you're tight as hell. I bet you've never had a dick as big as mine." He pulled out slightly and I let out a moan at the growing emptiness inside. The moan soon turned to a yelp when he brought down his hand against my ass. The smack was loud and he rubbed the red spot tenderly. "Have you?"

"N-No!" I gasped when he thrusted into me for the first time "Never. Fuck, you feel so good." Negan's thrusts sped up, his hips snapping against my ass in an obscene rhythm. Grunts and moans of pleasure slipped from both of our lips as he plowed unapologetically into me. I could feel every inch of him. He was hitting every spot, dragging against my walls in a sinfully perfect way.

"You're doing so good," He purred, kissing and biting my shoulder "So good for me. You're so perfect." I tossed my head back and he grabbed my chin, tilting my face towards him so he could give me another bruising kiss. I could only keep up for so long, though, and the white bliss of pleasure he was giving me soon became overwhelming. My jaw went slack and my head dropped against the cool tile of the counter in an attempt to ground myself in the moment. "I want you to cum, doll, cum around me. Wanna feel those walls squeeze me." His thrusts were starting to become sloppy and I could tell he was getting to his end. One of his fingers danced down my spine and found its way to my clit. He circled it with just enough pressure to get me to the edge that I was so willing to jump off. "Now." Negan growled. I obeyed, feeling the band in my lower abdomen snapping violently. We reached our releases simultaneously. My walls clenched around him, milking him of every drop. I screwed my eyes shut and screamed his name, holding in a large breath as the world around me spun. Negan eventually pulled himself out and collapsed on top of me. We both were breathing heavily, sweaty bodies entangled as well as we could over a counter. I swallowed, my throat dry from panting through my orgasm. When my eyes fluttered open, I could see Negan's thumb tracing circles over the love bites that were starting to darken on my shoulders.

"Are you going to kill me?" I rasped, running a hand through my wild hair "I guess I'm a bad person now." Negan chuckled, still out of breath.

"I think I'll make an exception," He mused, pressing a sweet kiss to the shell of my ear "I don't think I'm ready to let you go just yet."

#negan x reader #negan x y/n #negan smut #negan x you #negan smith #au!negan #the walking dead #twd smut #twd negan

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grxtsch · 3 years ago

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lyin’ eyes

[jimmy page x reader]

summary: after relationship troubles, (y/n) decides to leave and hopefully forget all that’s happened. but when she reaches a place that holds many memories, a certain old friend who she shared those memories with was waiting for her to return.

notes: i don’t know what that summary is but i made it up on the spot so don’t even complain abt it :P

also i personally think that this is my best fic so far so yeah enjoy ig 😩🤚

edit: LMAO this was supposed to be based off of the song by the eagles but my brain had other ideas rip

warnings: cheating (idk if i need to warn u abt that but i’m being safe), swearing, fluff

“(y/n) please wait!” a voice sounded from behind you as you dragged a suitcase filled with your clothes and other possessions to the front door.

“no chris, i’ve waited long enough at the damn restaurant and where were you?” you said, throwing your free hand up in the air. “you were fucking this bitch in our— no, your house.” you seethed back at your now ex-boyfriend, who stood with an expression of grief.

��in fact, i don’t want to wait at anymore restaurants for your stupid ass.” his grief soon turned into anger as you spun around on your heels and walked out the front door.

you could hear him shouting some profanities out of the open door, but you managed to block out his voice and instead focus on the sound of your shoes on pavement as you walked with your suitcase to wherever your feet would lead you.

you were completely done with his bullshit. coming home late claiming he was “working”, flirting with other girls when you two were out shopping, and, just like this night, leaving you stranded at some restaurant for some other chick. it wasn’t even the first time he’s done that. you were ready to leave him before this day had even started; you had spent a few days secretly putting all of your possessions into your handy suitcase, only putting away a couple things at a time so he wouldn’t notice the lack of your items in the house.

before you knew it, you were standing in front of a bar that you used to always go to with one of your dearest friends. “maybe he still comes here.” you thought as you made your way through the bar door and straight to a small booth in the far corner of the building. the same small booth that your friend and yourself had always sat at when you both would come here.

his name was james page, which he preferred jimmy, but you just used james instead to pick some fun at him. the two of you were the closest of friends, ever since your childhood where you fell off of your bike and he ran over to check to see if you were okay. he even went with you to your house just to make sure that you weren’t hurt. even as you both had gotten older, you would both help each other out with homework, watch movies together, and he even taught you some guitar chords and tricks.

the downfall of your friendship happened a while after he joined one of his first bands; the yardbirds. he would always be traveling, performing at different concert venues around the country, and even the world. at first you would just call him or he would call you on these tours, which worked well for awhile, until he got so busy with the band that he didn’t have any time to return your many missed calls.

you missed him dearly, thinking of him from time to time during the day. you often wondered what he was doing at the time when you thought of him, whether it was playing his guitar or just relaxing at wherever he may call home.

you stood up to go grab a beer, hoping to wash your thoughts away, when a very familiar sound reached your ears. it was his laughter. the same sweet laughter you grew fond of whenever you’d be around him. you didn’t know how much you longed to hear that sound again until that very moment, it almost held you in a trance until the beautiful sound melted away and the song that the jukebox was playing had replaced it.

“i was probably just imagining it.” you thought. running a hand through your hair to try and focus back on reality, you continued to the bar, a fairly large opening right in front of you that you could get to quickly. when you reached the bar, you heard a familiar voice say, “(y/n)! long time no see!” you looked up to see the bartender, florence. she has been the same bartender since you and jimmy started coming to this bar, usually just to hang out and talk about different things. you were still surprised that she still worked here, she’s not as young as she used to be, but you were glad that she was here and not some other new bartender.

“hey flo! how’s everything been recently?” you smiled lightly, not really in the mood to talk a lot, but willing to make small conversation with your old friend. “quite good dear! it’s been boring without yourself and jimmy constantly making a ruckus in here though, i kind of miss having to tell the manager about how you two broke the jukebox again!” florence joked, causing you to let out a small laugh. “yeah, those were the good old days, weren’t they?” she smiled. “they really were. anyway! how about a drink for you aye?”

“whiskey. any kind will do.” you replied, which flo nodded and went off to get your drink, coming back in record time with a glass about half way filled with the golden-brown alcohol. you smiled and said a quick “thank you” and carefully took the glass, bidding flo a farewell and she returning it.

you walked back over to your seat, the chat with florence clearing your mind of the earlier events and bringing your mood up a bit. she always had that effect on people, making them crack even a slight smile when they’re feeling blue. right as you were about to sit down, the voice that you never thought you’d hear again called out, “(y/n)? is that you?”

you set your glass down, mentally preparing to see him for the first time in a long, long time. holding your breath, you turn around and see him, the jimmy page, your old best friend. “james?” his hair was longer, barely reaching to his shoulder, and it was slicked back slightly, showing his beautiful green eyes. his smile was still the same, and you swore your heart did a backflip when he smiled at you and said “oh (y/n) i knew it was you! i couldn’t miss that gorgeous hair of yours anywhere.”

you were pretty sure that your face was bright red as you smiled bashfully. “oh thank you jim. and i see you grew yours out hm?” he chuckled, running his hand through his hair softly and said “yeah, i just thought why the hell not you know?” “mhm! i like it a lot, it suits you.” you said back, nudging his shoulder with your knuckle.

he grins and mumbles a quick “thanks”. he then looks back up at you and says “wanna sit and chat for awhile? catch up on all the times we missed?” you nod, motioning for him to sit at the opposite side of where your drink is, and he sat, you following his actions and sitting down as well. you grabbed your glass of whiskey and took a long sip of it, leaving only a small amount left in the bottom of the cup. jimmy’s eyes followed your hand as you set it back on the table, then his eyes flicked back up to meet yours, his eyebrows furrowed in concern.

“is everything alright? i haven’t seen you drink like that in, well, i’ve never seen you drink like that.” you sighed, drawing your finger around the rim of the cup gently. “if i’m being honest, no. a year after we, y’know, stopped talking, i found a guy and we got along quite well and started dating.” you noticed jimmy’s hand clenched into a fist, so you continued.

“everything was fine between us, until recently. he started going after other girls, even with me around him. he even asked me on a date just so i would stay, because i told him that if he doesn’t get his shit together then i’m just going to leave. we were supposed to meet at a restaurant, but of course he didn’t show up even when he’s the one who wanted me to go with him and not the other way around. so i went back to our former shared house and found him fucking some random chick that i’ve seen him flirt with before.” you stared at your drink, before grabbing it and finishing it off. as soon as you set the glass back, jimmy’s hand softly reached for yours and held it, caressing his thumb over your knuckles.

you rose your eyes up to meet jimmy’s, his eyes holding a soft, caring look, the same look that you’ve longed to see for many years. “it’s fine though, really. it’s not like i really loved him anyway..” you lied, thinking of when you first met chris, how happy he made you. but you realized that a certain someone, perhaps the someone sitting across from you, had made you happier than chris could’ve.

“(y/n) love, your lying eyes really give away that you did love him at one point, and it’ll take a while to try and un-love him, trust me.” a soft hand came in contact with your cheek, gently wiping a stray tear away that you didn’t notice had fallen. looking back up at jimmy, you smiled at him and brought your hand that wasn’t occupied and rested it against his. “i know jimmy, but i think i’ve already moved on from that asshole.”

his eyes flashed with a glimmer of hope, and he softly nodded, a small smile painting his face. he paused, then cautiously asked; “i know we’ve only talked for a few minutes, and you can refuse this offer, but how about we ditch this bar and go somewhere else?” you brought jimmy’s hand down to rest on the table, holding them both with your warm hands and nodded. “yeah, i’d like that.” he stood up from the seat, pulling you up with him.

“well then, what are we waiting for?”

tag list: @rebel-without-a-zeppelin @asetcrowley @reincarnated70sbaby @thebeatlesuniverse @princesspagey @jonesyjonesyjonesy

#jimmy page x reader #jimmy page fanfic #led zeppelin #jimmy page #john paul jones #john bonham #robert plant #classic rock #classic rock fanfic #i’m so proud of this HELP

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neptunesnow · 2 years ago

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Hi Stalkers

mermaids and mermen, welcome back to Mako

Mako Mermaids was a great show ( and still is ), it marked a lot of people's childhood and stayed in memory: maybe with a coherent name, or sometimes just as unclear images. And you're lucky if you've picked the first one. Any how you managed to pop up here, today even after all those years, it's seriously good to have you. I'll be direct, I need your help. I don't know for you, but to me Nixie was the best one. She was funny, cute and so herself. Ivy Latimer seemed truly into the character. It was a shame when she just disappeared after the first season, yet no big deal. Don't get me wrong, I knew whatever Ivy was gonna do later I would love as much as I did with mm. Too bad for me, she never came back.. or at least I thought so.

swim with me 🌊

it all started a long long time ago.. may 2022, as I said long time ago.

I had a crush (hm.. still have). we had that show in common, and we both fell in love with Nixie when we decided to watch it again. as a good boy, I searched for her gram or whatever I could find to see what she was up to. I found that old BBC show, but it wasn't really for me nor for my N crush. But none official social medias, and we didn't look for the rest of the cast's @. might be strange, yet 2013 is far away in the past, sure thing a lot of them don't have those apps, right? it didn't sound stupid back then, now this hypothesis is so dull

august 9, still 2022

I started everything again, I need to find something. and this time, all by myself. unfortunately? yes, probably

1st information (a bit suspicious?): Ivy Latimer was a transman!

link: fandom Married Biography KIDDLE FactBoyz

august 2020, a highlighted story labeled Very Trans on her Instagram, ok. which Instagram? they never put the @. then I didn't really know if I could trust those pages. the fandom seemed pretty reliable tho, but I didn't have any screenshots or nothing to prove actually

2nd: his new name

link: reddit reddit2 facebook

Wyatt J. Ivy on facebook, Ivy Joy on reddit. Wasn't Joy his birth name too? according to IMDb it is. and for Wyatt, there's an IG account but the person doesn't match (nor the dates), and 5 facebook accounts (can't enter, don't have facebook). but, the post on facebook was from august 30 2020, the date is so close! yet, not lucky for us.. kidding, reddit is AWESOME!

3rd: other works

link: Saturday Night Fireworks

I put Ivy Latimer on youtube, found her: she was on a video clip 3 years ago (december 2018, gram post). then the reddit3 comment (bellow) gave me another video clip, 1 year ago. it's because of that one I'm not using he/him here, because she sounded very feminine to me with that alter ego Ivy Bernier. but yes, maybe she has a woman alter ego, Idk.

4th: IG profile

link: reddit3 + the reddit's links above

nixieswasaboy or blue31101994, and how if both of them were accurate? nixie one no longer exists, but she was tagged in this post (firework singer) with that account. yet, blue follows them and is followed back. blue also follows/is followed Zack and Evie, plus Bridie Connell and Edan B Lacey (saturday's singer and director)

5th: nixiewasaboy

how to see a deleted account? Idk, but I searched the profile in the Wayback Machine, pretty sure that no-one would have saved her profile there. I was wrong, and I've never been so glad about being wrong in my whole life (maybe I'm overdoing, shush). 2 snapshots in June 17, 2021 (the date matches!) yet everytime I tried to access the link, I got a "http 302 response at crawl time". check it. I've been redirected to the same day login IG page, every single time.

6th: blue

could be a fan. yes could, but why? there's a lot of fake accounts, the person behind blue could have done that too. and why the hell so many people she might have spoken to and still speaks with follow blue back? so I requested to follow. I'm not sure she'll let me in, and anyways the account doesn't have any posts. thing is, 28 thousand people follow it, maybe there's a reason to that.

that's it!

thanks to all the sea creatures who stayed until the end, actually.. I hope it won't be the end, I do hope we find lot more infos about Nixie, Ivy or whatever. don't hesitate to contact me!

stay hydrated, and see ya soon

— taylor c.

#where is she #mako mermaids #nixie #nixie mako mermaids #h2o mermaid #ivy latimer #ivy bernier #mermaid #merman #h2o #ivy joy latimer #lgbtq #trans man

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rogue-durin-16 · 4 years ago

Text

THINGS NEVER GO AS PLANNED (Part IV/VII)

"wrong name"

Summary: After Fred's death, George and Y/n lean on each other to carry on. This wasn't the most brilliant idea, though; George was pretty much in love with the girl, and Y/n— well, she had been dating Fred prior to the Battle of Hogwarts.

Pairing: George Weasley x Reader

Genre: angst-fluff

Tags:

Suggested by: @crispykittywitch

Things never go as planned: @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @beautyschoo1dropout @s1ut4georgeweasley @sunshineandshadowss @missmulti @accioweaslcy

Permanent taglist: @elia-the-bibliophile @randomparanoid @karlthecat15722 @thebutchersdaughtersblog @amourtentiaa

Warnings: language, mentions of Fred x Reader, brief mention of death ig (?) Feels

A/N: here's a Christmas fic that has no right to be this angsty lmao, enjoy nonetheless <3

Prologue: the aftermath

Part I: sleepless nights

Part II: candy floss

Part III: shock therapy

Part V: the perfect excuse

Part VI: the downfall

Part VII: apart

Epilogue: I still love you

Rogue-durin-16 masterlist

We apparated in the Weasley front yard together at dusk at the same time as Percy did; we greeted him with a hug and entered their old home, only to be met with more hugs.

I had only stayed at the Burrow once, arriving the night we escorted Harry, and leaving shortly after the tragic and abrupt ending of Bill and Fleur's wedding.

I had attended to the wedding as Fred's date. Even if we agreed that there was nothing serious between us, we cared deeply for one another, and I was important enough for him that he asked me to present ourselves together in front of his family.

How odd it was that the second time I was staying at the Burrow, it was because I had been asked to attend this Christmas gathering by none other than George —as friends, of course—; so odd that it made me anxious, but Arthur and Molly were way too welcoming for that anxiety to carry on longer than a minute after I stepped into their home.

"Y/n, dear!" Molly held me back while George went to greet his siblings, who had arrived earlier than us. "I'm so glad you could make it!"

"She didn't want to come." George snitched, coming back to us after hugging his father. "Said she felt like she was trespassing."

"George!" My cheeks burned when he exposed me.

"Oh, darling," Molly pulled me into the house to join the rest. "You're always welcomed here, don't be silly!"

Molly had liked me since day one, even before Fred and I became a thing. I was the one to receive her when the Weasley matriarch first visited the shop, and we immediately got along. Fred had explained to me that it was because I reminded his mother of her younger self.

"You're a snitch." I whispered into George's ear as we both walked behind Molly in the kitchen direction, his only response was to stick out his tongue, which made us both chuckle.

Molly looked over her shoulder and I caught in her eyes the same emotion I saw in Ginny's the first time she came to visit the shop after the reopening.

A profound emotion rooted in hope; a bittersweet feeling coming from the thought that, even though Fred was gone, George seemed to be coming back to us.

I felt it too, whenever he smiled. It was lovely to see him actually happy; I wished I could keep him like that forever, even in the nights, when everything would come down on his shoulders, tearing apart every spark of joy might have had in the day.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

We weren't finished with food yet when Arthur wiped his mouth with the napkin and, clapping his hands once, exclaimed, "Alright, time for presents!" Teddy, who rested on Bill's lap, squealed, his hair turning pink; that baby was smart. "I'll get them, dear." He stopped his wife from standing up and went to get them himself.

He distributed the gifts, and I was surprised when he handed me one. "Oh! You didn't have to—"

"Nonsense!" Arthur stopped me, resuming his task with a warm smile. Everyone was happy in that moment, and I knew George's mood had a big part on that.

He unwrapped his, which turned out to be a purple and orange scarf and matching mittens. He was putting on the mittens when I tossed the wrap of my present, uncovering a cardigan formed by several tones of my favorite color.

"Put it on!" George requested excited. unbeknownst to me, it had been him who told Molly my favorite color. "Aw you look fantastic." He observed, poorly wrapping his scarf around his neck.

"Of course I do." I agreed, shifting on my chair to face him, my hands traveling to his scarf to relocate it properly.

Though we didn't notice, it wasn't the first time that more than one pair of eyes observed us that night, and it wouldn't be the last.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bill and Fleur had offered to take care of Teddy since they were leaving to Shell Cottage, so Harry and Ginny could spend the night at the Burrow without the worry of the baby.

Percy was terribly tired, so he withdrew from the living room to go to sleep.

Thank goodness he did; Percy was probably the second most affected by Fred death, and after that nice evening, he wouldn't have wanted to witness what was about to happen.

Ron, Hermione and I had colonized the settee, while Ginny and George were on their feet near the table, chatting about some nonsense; Molly was cleaning the dishes. Harry had offered to help her, but she refused, so the boy decided to talk with Arthur instead.

Molly pointed with her index finger at the remaining glasses laid on the table and called for George.

The thing is, she didn't really call for George.

"Fred, darling, hand me those."

The room fell silent.

It took a moment for her to realise, but an instant later, Molly was covering her mouth with her hand, her glassy stare fixed on the wrong named twin.

My eyes frantically travelled to every single person in the room, who had gone livid. We all seemed to be holding our breaths, waiting for some kind of explosive reaction.

Then my attention was drawn to George, whose, until that instant amused gaze, had turned blank and expressionless.

"Darling—" Molly's voice shattered with a single word. As Arthur went to console his wife, Ginny led her older brother aside and whispered things only he could hear, attempting to sooth him. "It slipped..." Molly cried.

I stayed sat on the couch with Hermione and Ron, the three of us frozen; I felt like I was an intruder witnessing a very intimate family moment.

"George don't—" we heard Ginny raising her voice before her brother disapparated. "Bloody hell!" She spun around and walked to me. "Y/n, speak to him, he'll listen to you." She practically begged, nodding her head at the window, prompting me to look at George standing alone at the edge of the cornfield, already making his way in.

"I-I..." I didn't need to look around in order to acknowledge all the eyes laid on me. "O-okay." I blinked away my own tears and rushed to the door, only to be stopped by Molly's shaky hand.

"Please- tell him I'm sorry."

"I don't think he'll blame you." I reassured the wrecked mother, offering her a comforting smile before making my way out and jogging into the cornfield myself.

"George?" When I didn't obtain an answer, it dawned on me how dumb it had been to dive into that area without knowing where to go. "George?"

I yelped when something tugged on my sleeve, making my body pivot on my heel. "You know how easy is to get lost in here?" The ginger questioned in a raspy tone, the hand that had been on my sleeve going down to mine, which invited him into my hold.

"She didn't mean— I reckon she just... Saw him in you for a second."

"I know." Though his eyes did look a bit red, he was calm.

"You alright?" I inquired, taking my hand to his cheek, on which he leaned.

"I just..." Sigh. His right hand travelled up to his face to hold mine in it before pulling away. "I need a moment alone."

I nodded. "Don't take too long or you'll catch a cold." He hummed affirmatively, and I half-heartedly left the cornfield and headed to the Burrow.

I excused George, assuring them he would be okay and, though the previous light-hearted environment didn't return, the tension in the air dissipated a bit.

A few minutes later, George came in; his mother welcomed with open arms and he returned the hug, having a small conversation against Molly's shoulder before making a beeline to me, sitting by my side.

I felt my cheeks flushing as he leaned on me, putting his head on my shoulder; suddenly self-conscious at the closeness between us. Somehow it was different being that close the privacy of our flat, than outside of it. Though it felt somehow inappropriate, when his long fingers intertwined with mines, I indulged him, trying hard not to meet neither Hermione's nor Ginny's eyes —they had been staring so much that I had noticed them an hour ago.

I was completely unaware of Molly's gaze laid on us too.

George, whose eyes had been closed, sit up straighter to whisper in my ear, "Can we go back to the flat?" My eyes met his and I realised we were even closer than I had thought in first place.

"I thought we were staying the night?" I murmured, trying in vain to keep his family out of the conversation they were pretending not to hear.

He leaned a bit closer only for me to hear his words. "I don't think I can sleep in my room."

"Do it for your mum." I squeezed his hand and he sighed. "I'm gonna stay in that room with you." Another sigh, but this one was of defeat, letting me know that I had talked some sense into him.

HERMIONE'S P. O. V.

At the beginning of the evening, when George and Y/n had first stepped into the Burrow, Ginny had come to me, urging me to observe them closely.

At first I didn't know why she would say that, but after the wrong name slipped out of Molly's lips, I started to get a hold of the matter, but it seemed so surreal— it just couldn't be.

Though the way Y/n's cheeks lighted up when George took a seat between us did remind me of the way I used to react when Ron got a tad too close to me in our sixth year.

After a while Y/n seemed to forget about our presence and eased besides George, making their bodies get closer.

When we decided to call it a day and the ones left in the living room started to retreat to their rooms for the night, Y/n got up without letting go of George's hold at any moment and, thanking Molly for her hospitality, they made their way upstairs.

Had my eyes not been trained on them, I would have missed the way George's hands went to Y/n's waist as his chin fell on her shoulder.

I left the sofa and walked to Ginny before she and Harry could slither to their dorm. "Are they...?"

"Not sure." Ginny replied with knitted brows. "What'd you think?"

"I... Don't know." I confessed.

GEORGE'S P. O. V.

We entered the dark room, illuminated only by the light provided by the night sky and started to discard our clothes in silence without looking at each other.

I was the first one to finish, making my way to my old bed and catching a glimpse of Y/n's silouhette while she threw a tee on.

I was utterly, hopelessly in love with her.

I had known I loved her for quite a while, but the feeling that had made my heart swell and my stomach flutter when she got into the cornfield without giving it a second thought in order to find me, that was something else.

I had also felt it when she had found me lifeless in Fred's room a couple of months ago; that feeling had been the reason why I found the strength in me to come back to life.

I was young, but I just knew what I felt went further from only love.

"What's on your mind?" She was already slipping under the covers by my side, her arms wrapping around me and bringing my back closer to her chest.

You, I wanted to say. "Not much."

"Liar." She tugged on my shirt and I turned on my other side so we would be facing each other. "C'mon, it's just me."

Words blurted out of my mouth, escaping my control. "Do you see him when you look at me?"

And I wasn't making anything up; It was, in fact, on my mind. It had appeared during the walk through the cornfield and it hadn't left, but Y/n's scent, touch and words had backed that thought to a corner of my mind.

She wondered, tucking one of my locks away from my forehead. "Sometimes, but not like you think." She must have sensed my inquiry because she explained further. "There are small gestures, jokes— things like that in you, that remind me of him." Her eyes were roaming all over my face, her hands bringing mines to her heart. "When you're happy, like tonight— I can't quite explain it but... it sorta seems like he's still here. So yeah, you could say I see a little bit of Fred when I look at you." Her eyes finally met mines. "It's not a bad thing— you love him so much that we can still see him through you."

"Loved." I corrected her, my thumb drawing circles on the back of her palm. "He's dead." A tear rolled down my cheek, but Y/n caught it with her fingertips before it could reach the pillow.

"Love never dies, Georgie." Her replied seem to carry more significance that someone would see at first sight, but I was too tired to discern it.

I couldn't tell if she had scooted closer, or if I had unconsciously leaned on, but the tips of our noses were nearly touching.

Initially, she didn't attempt to put more distance between us, and I couldn't help but let my hopes get high. I waited for a sign, something that would let me know I could close the gap between our lips —oh, how I craved to feel her lips—, but the sign didn't come and we stayed like that for what seemed like an eternity before she casted down her eyes, immediately breaking the spell.

"Goodnight, Y/n." I whispered, turning my back to her.

"Goodnight, George." She mumbled back, coming closer to cuddle me.

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writing-of-a-british-bitch · 4 years ago

Text

Blame Me - Chapter 1

Fandom: The Walking Dead

Specified gender: Female

Word Count: 4.3K

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x reader,

TW: canon typical violence, canon divergence, gore, mention of past major character death, zombies, a lot of time skips

Genre: Horror ig?

Series: Blame Me

Requests: CLOSED

Masterlist

A/N: (Y/N) isn’t in this chapter much but she will be soon! This is my first time writing for the walking dead, so I know Daryl is probably out of character. Constructive criticism is always appreciated :) Send me a DM or an ask if you want to be tagged! Enjoy!

When Daryl found out about what they'd done to Merle on that rooftop - left him for dead- he was livid. Merle was no angel, that was for damn sure, but that was still his brother, and they just left him there. And when they got there, and Merle was gone, with nothing left but a hand he'd had to hack off himself? It felt like his world was crashing around him. He couldn't do this. Not again. Then this new sheriff asshole had the nerve to tell him to calm down. Fuck that. He couldn't lose his brother, not him too. But Daryl couldn't seem to catch a break, and suddenly they'd lost half their camp, taken a failed trip to the CDC (that almost cost them their lives - again), and Sophia had gone missing. He was sick and fucking tired of losing people. Maybe that's why he was so hellbent on finding a little girl that wasn't even his. They'd set up a little camp on the edge of some old guy called Hershel's farm, but Daryl didn't want to get too close. He had this awful feeling creeping up his spine, something was gonna go wrong. Someone was gonna die. He couldn't take the blame again. So he stayed away. Set up his own tent, his own fire, Merle's bike parked up against a tree, animals on a line. Just like the old hunting trips he used to take with his brother. Sometimes she'd come, but it wasn't her thing. She'd been keeping him company so far. Even if she wasn't really here. Daryl was so focused on skinning a squirrel that he didn't even hear Carol creeping over. She still had remnants of tears tracked down her face, but they'd been long dried.

"Daryl?" Carol's meek voice broke through the silence, and Daryl looked up briefly a grunt of recognition leaving his throat. She sat down next to him on the log he was perched on "Thank you for everything you've done for Sophia. Her own daddy would have never done the same."

She'd thanked him twice already. He found her doll, not Sophia. As much as he wishes he had. Damn near died for it too, since the throbbing pain in his side liked to remind him

"Only found her doll," He mumbled, glancing over quickly. Carol nodded and gave him a small smile.

"Well, that's just one step closer isn't it?" She replied but she got no response except the famous Dixon stare. He wasn't much of a talker. He was just glad she understood that. They sat there for a few minutes, watching the fire, surrounded by the comfortable silence until Carol looked over to watch as Daryl skinned another squirrel, and a little glimmer on his hand caught her eye. "Hey, what's that?"

"What're you talkin' 'bout?" He huffed out, putting the squirrel to one side, and stabbing the knife into the log beside him, finally giving her the proper response she'd been asking for. Carol reached out and took Daryl's hand, examining it, ignoring the blood on his hands. He'd be surprised if she wasn't used to it by now. But she was right. On his ring finger was a silver band. Just plain and simple. Very Daryl. He snatched his hand back the second he realised what she was talking about. Carol was grinning at him, a tender look in her eyes. God damn that woman for being so observant. Though truly, they'd been in the same group for months and none of them ever noticed, so how observant could she really be? "Shut up."

"You're married?" Carol still had that grin on her face, and though her look was tender, there was a hint of sadness in her eyes. His girl wasn't with him. And while he hadn't fully accepted the fact she could be dead, he had accepted the fact that his chances of ever seeing her again were slim. Especially since it'd been so long.

"Worn ma ring whole time and you ain't never noticed?" Daryl shot back, more defensive than he'd like to have been. He didn't like being snappy with Carol, but, as anyone would have assumed, the topic was a touchy one.

"You and Merle were always off somewhere, or sitting miles away from us. Can't blame me for that," She replied, and to be fair, she wasn't exactly wrong. There was a pregnant pause, where Carol was trying to figure out what she should say. Could he even tell her? He didn't want no pity, but damn, talking about his girl, the memories? Talking to someone who wasn't Merle about her. Maybe it'd be nice. Or maybe not. "What happened to her?"

There was that silence again. The pause weighed heavy on both of them. Daryl took a deep breath and looked over at her. Fuck it. If there was anyone he could tell, anyone he could trust, it was Carol.

"Weren't nothin' bad. Didn't feel it then. Merle and me, we was goin' on 'nother huntin' trip. Ma girl only came sometimes. Weren't her thing. She was goin' to visit her ma, gave me this damn thang," He picked up a battery-powered video recorder from by his foot that Carol hadn't even seen. Yeah, maybe he was wrong about the whole observant thing. The corner of his lips twitched upwards as he opened it. "Said, 'just so you don't forget me'. I told her we'd only be gone two weeks," his fingers fiddled with the buttons, and he grew quiet, clicking onto one of the videos, but not playing yet. "Dead started risin' a week later. The ring and these dumb videos are all I have left right now."

Carol watched him as he talked, seeing the blank expression on his face warp into sadness, as he played with the video recorder, the way his eyes flickered over to his ring every now and again. He didn't think he'd been this vulnerable since he'd last seen his girl.

"She must have been really special to put up with someone like you," She teased, trying to make him a little more comfortable, nudging his shoulder. He smirked, finally looking away from the recorder.

"Yeah, she was," Daryl stated simply, before pressing play on the video.

"The hell you doin', woman?" Daryl's gruff voice sounded from behind the camera, as it spun around to reveal Daryl and a girl, maybe a year younger than him, with (H/C) loose and wild, as she danced around a kitchen. There was loud laughter behind the camera, Merle had been a dick when he found the recorder and kept filming them (he knew Daryl hated it). Lord knows he was thanking that asshole for filming it now. Merle said something in his southern drawl that Carol couldn't quite understand, but by the scowl that appeared on Daryl's face in the video, he clearly heard it. The girl beside him let out a chuckle and suddenly launched at Daryl, clinging to his arm as she bounced on her toes. Daryl lowered his glare to her, but Carol saw his eyes soften slightly. Merle spun the camera around to face him and made some raucous comment about christening the new house while he was away before the camera spun back around. It ended a second later, with Daryl swearing at Merle and using his hand to block the camera, and the girl let out a loud laugh.

Carol was smiling at the camera until she looked over at Daryl and saw a hardened look on his face. Damn those emotions of his.

"What was her name?" She whispered, scared if she spoke too loud, he'd crack.

"(Y/N)" were Daryl's final words, before he picked up the recorder, crossbow, his knife and his half skinned squirrel and moved into his tent, zipping it behind it.

His girl always knew what to do. Knew how to help. She was a leader, even if she liked to deny it. She'd know exactly what to do. Shane was a damn idiot, and Daryl knew she would have dealt with him already, rather than fucking about as Rick had. When Shane threw the barn doors open, letting all them damn walkers out, despite the whole groups' protests, he knew right there that his girl would have dealt with him. And when Sophia came trailing out, pale and cold, white-eyed, dirty with a bloody chunk missing from her shoulder, she would have known exactly what to do. But instead, he was the one catching Carol and watching as Rick put a bullet between her eyes. Daryl's girl would have known exactly what to do. But she wasn't there. As much as he wished she was. He was the one who comforted Carol and tried to help. But, equally, he was also the one who threw blame in her face and screamed at her. She didn't deserve that. No way in hell. But, he didn't know what to do. His girl would've.

"There ain't nothing out here but mosquitoes and ants," They'd only left Rick, Glenn and Maggie two hours ago, but Daryl was already starting to question his decision. He forgot how much his brother liked to run his mouth, and his hunger didn't help calm the situation much either.

"Patience, little brother. Sooner or later, a squirrel is bound to scurry across your path," Merle responded, stood over by the tree to have a piss.

"Even so, that ain't much food," Daryl kept his eyes trained on his surroundings. There'd been more than a few walkers sneaking up on them recently, and he was starting to get paranoid that it was the beginning of a herd.

"More than nothing," That asshole really have to choose now to go all quiet? All his damn brother did was talk.

"I'd have better luck going through one of them houses we passed back on the turnoff," Daryl observed, looking over in the direction of the turnoff as Merle zipped himself up and walked over. He had that shit-eating, condescending look on his face. Great.

"Is that what your new friends taught you? Hmm? How to loot for booty? You gotten real quiet since y'all left me on that dead infested rooftop in Atlanta. Them prison pussies soften you up?" Merle teased, looking over at his little brother with an amused look in his eyes. Daryl just snarled slightly, looking back in the direction of the street. "Oh, cmon now, can't be givin' ol' Merle the cold shoulder after all the shit we just went through."

"Man, fuck off," Daryl hissed back, glaring up at his brother. His side was throbbing with what he suspected was a broken rib, or at the very least bruised, after Merle's kicking and punching back in the arena. Merle narrowed his eyes in response, walking over and giving Daryl a light shove.

"What? Ya forget about how I took care of ya? Now ya spent some time with Officer Friendly and you're suddenly too good for ya brother?" He snapped, raising his eyebrows. Daryl huffed and straightened his back.

"Just lay off, Merle. There are walkers crawlin' 'round and ya runnin' ya mouth like a damn fool," he shot back, making a point to keep his voice low. Merle only let out one of his loud raucous laughs, causing Daryl to advance quickly.

"Easy, little brother. Ya lookin' like ya might pop a vein if ya keep gettin' pissed like that," Daryl didn't say anything, just stared back at him, the famous Dixon glare returning. "It's the Dixon's back together again, ain't it a good thang?"

"Not all the Dixons," The younger Dixon grumbled, pulling his crossbow up as a familiar growling filled the air, and a walker stumbled out from behind a tree. A quick pull of the trigger and the damn thing was on the floor, bolt between his eyes. Merle watched him for a second, watched the flash of anger and sadness in his eyes.

"Ya ever find 'er?" He asked quietly, as his brother walked over and pulled the bolt from the fuckers head. Daryl glanced up at him, holding his gaze for a minute before starting to walk again.

"Man, we've been at it for hours. Why don't we find a stream, try to look for some fish?"

"I think you're just trying to lead me back to the road, man. Get me over to that prison," Merle scoffed. Damn it. He knew his brother'd put up a fight but he didn't think he'd pick it up so quickly. Then again, his brother was an idiot, but he wasn't stupid.

"They got shelter. Food. A pot to piss in. Might not be a bad idea," Yeah, and the rest of his family. And his video recorder.

"If ya gonna try and lead me back to that prison, you could at least answer my damn question, baby brother," Merle stated, noticing how Daryl's shoulders tensed slightly. There was silence, apart from the occasional rustling of trees, which made the brothers look around, never letting their guard down despite the conversation.

"Naw. She was up in South Carolina before these bastards starting comin'. Knew I weren't gonna find her here. Doubt she came back," Was his response, but apparently, that was enough for Merle. For now at least.

"C'mon let's go hook some fish," And with that Merle was steaming ahead, leaving Daryl in place. He let out a sigh and spat on the ground before trailing after the elder Dixon.

But of course, they had to save someone else's asses, nearly getting themselves killed in the process. And of course, Merle wanted to rob this poor family. They had a baby for Christ's sake! "The shit you doing, pointing that thing at me?" Merle raged, once they got a good distance from the group they'd just rescued.

"They were scared, man," Daryl reasoned, narrowing his eyes for what felt like the millionth time.

"They were rude is what they were. Rude and they owed us a token of gratitude," God, if his girl were here, she would have knocked his teeth out by now. She loved Merle and cared about him, but they clashed heads more than he and Daryl did. And damn that was a high number.

"They didn't owe us nothing," he shot back, looking back in that direction, even though the red car the group had been in were long gone

"You helpin' people out of the goodness of your heart? Even though you might die doing it? Is that something your Sheriff Rick taught you?" Merle said with a cold laugh, interrupted halfway through with Daryl's comment of "There was a baby!". Merle couldn't help but think that his brother had gone soft. "Oh, otherwise you would have just left them to the biters, then"

"Man, I went back for you. You weren't there. I didn't cut off your hand, neither. You did that. Way before they locked you up on that roof. You asked for it!"

"You know-- you know what's funny to me? You and Sheriff Rick are like this now. Right?" Merle crossed his fingers in front of Daryl's face, only aggravating the hunter further. " I bet you a penny and a fiddle of gold that you never told him that we were planning on robbing that camp blind. I told you that that woman had made you soft. Hell, ya got married just ta make her happy. Dixons don't need no one but each other!"

"Ya leave ma girl out of this, ya hear? Besides, it didn't happen," Daryl growled, voice dangerously low to the point that even Merle knew he truly should drop his sister-in-law out of the discussion.

"Yeah, it didn't 'cause I wasn't there to help you."

"What, like when we were kids, huh? Who left who then?" Daryl hadn't really meant to say it. He hadn't. But once it was out, the air set on fire, and both brothers were seeing red.

"What? Huh? Is that why I lost my hand?"Merle retaliated, pointing and getting right into Daryl's face, knowing how much it got under his skin.

"You lost your hand 'cause you're a simpleminded piece of shit!" Daryl turned his back, moving to pick up his backpack from the floor when Merle lunged forward, gripping the fabric off his shoulders.

"Yeah? You don't know-!" A sharp tug, and a loud rip and Merle's words caught in his throat. Silence filled the air, as the raised and discoloured markings down Daryl's back presented themselves to the world. Some of them were from hunts, or from accidents in the apocalypse, but some, Merle recognised them too damn well from his own time spent with their daddy. Once Daryl had fully clocked what had just happened, he pulled the shirt back up as much as he could and slung his bag over the top. That was it. He'd had enough. " I- I didn't know he was-"

"Yeah, he did. He did the same to you. That's why ya left first," Daryl answered sharply, not turning back to look at him. Merle just shook his head.

"I had to, man. I would have killed him otherwise," Daryl only chuckled humourlessly, and set off in the opposite direction, only turning back when Merle added, "Where you going?"

"Back where I belong," Was Daryl's reply, not even noticing he'd started to spin his ring with his thumb at his side. Old habits.

"I can't go with you. I tried to kill that black bitch. Damn near killed the Chinese kid," Merle tried to reason, but Daryl could only scoff in response. Classic Merle.

"He's Korean," He stated simply.

"Whatever. Doesn't matter, man. I just can't go with you, "Merle pulled a face, and for a split second, Daryl felt guilty. But he was an asshole. If he decided to come, then so be it, but if he decided to stay behind, good riddance.

"You know, I may be the one walking away... but you're the one that's leaving- again."

"What's goin' on that brain baby brother?" Merle asked, leaning in the doorway to the cellblock, slightly alarmed to be sat quietly at the top of the stairway, where his sleeping bag was, spaced out. Normally, he'd be pacing or cleaning that stupid crossbow for the thousandth time. But no, he was dead still. Dead quiet. The others were out and about. Most of them were in the yard, clearing out the walkers that Axel had stupidly let in when he opened the gate. Michonne, Rick and Carl had gone out on a run to their home town for weapons against the governor fucker. And Daryl, Merle and Little Asskicker (who Daryl had found out had been named Judith, but Little Asskicker seemed more appropriate) had been left alone in the cellblock. Rick trusted Daryl enough to keep her safe from Merle.

"Ya really think she made me soft?" Daryl pondered out loud, holding Little Asskicker close to him, as he started rocking her slightly. Merle laughed, waving his metal attachment around dramatically.

"This place's 'bout to go crashin' to the ground, and you're thinkin' about your lady?"Merle wasn't a man of affection, Daryl knew that pretty well, but he also knew when he was deflecting. Merle talked about (Y/N) sure, but only briefly. Since the brothers and his girl got separated in the beginning, they both steered clear of long conversations about her. Daryl just stared Merle down, until he let out a huff, and took a few slow steps into the cellblock. "She made ya soft, ain't gonna lie ta ya. Even you can't deny that, little brother. Never said it was an entirely bad thing."

"She made me better. Never really know what she saw in me, but whatever it was, I'm glad she did," Daryl's lips twitched upwards, as he looked down at Little Asskicker. His girl would love her. She'd love Carl too. Hell, she would love everyone. She would've kept things calm.

"Look, I'm an old redneck asshole, but that girl o' yours is the best damn thing that ever happened to ya. Ya ever find her again, you don't let her go, hear me?" He didn't miss the commanding tone in Merle's voice and part of him wanted to laugh at it. Been a long time since he'd heard that tone. Daryl just nodded. "Ya still got that video recorder witcha?"

Daryl nodded, before jerking his head towards the little pile of stuff besides his sleeping bag. Merle climbed past him, careful not to knock the baby, and picked it up. He sat next to his brother, and for a second it was awkward. They hadn't been this close in years. Not like this. But when Merle opened up the camera and clicked on one of the videos, the awkwardness dissipated.

It took a second for the camera to come into focus, as the blazing Georgia sun reflected off the lens. Once it came into focus, Merle was once again filming the couple. Daryl and (Y/N) were stood in a little lake and both of them were just washing dirt and dried animal blood from their arms and legs, chatting too quietly for the camera to pick up. Merle mumbled something behind the camera about "being too fuckin' absorbed in their own world", when suddenly a laughter-filled scream tore through the peace, as Daryl sent a massive splash in (Y/N)'s direction. She was giggling but giving him a playful glare, the famous Dixon glare. He let out a loud laugh as she tried to push him into the water with little success, until he stepped back and lost his footing, pulling them both under the water. The camera shook as Merle let out a roar of a laugh, stumbling forward towards the water, as the pair came up, both sat on their asses in the shallow water. (Y/N) looked over to Merle, beaming with that smile that made Daryl's heartache, but flipped him the bird when she realised he was filming, shouting "asshole" at him. Daryl just chuckled and pulled her into him, no longer giving a shit about the camera, and kissed her, which they were both smiling into. Merle then said something childish like "horny kids" or something before the video ended, with Daryl and (Y/N)'s foreheads pressed together.

"She's something special ain't she?" Daryl said, through a voice that was thicker than he wished it to be, looking down at Little Asskicker with a sad smile.

"Hell yeah, she was."

Daryl didn't know how much more he could take. The prison had fallen, and they'd taken Beth. He swore he'd protect her. Swore to himself, swore to the memory of Hershel, swore to Maggie. And he still lost her. And when the group of assholes found him sat in the middle of the street, practically walker bait, he was starting to get desperate. He'd do almost anything at this point, he was so lost. His brother was gone now too. He couldn't even rely on that asshole. The one and only thing he'd been able to grab to remember his family was that fucking video recorder. But he'd found Rick, Carl, Michonne. And while he wished he could've found everyone, he was more than happy to have found the kid most of all. Though, he couldn't deny the anguish that filled him when he saw no sign of Little Asskicker and a sombre look on their faces when he asked I think it was safe to say that Rick was going off the deep end again. The man ripped a guys jugular out with his fucking teeth! After everything, Daryl honestly couldn't blame him, but last time Carl nearly lost who he was because of it. That couldn't happen again. Despite it all, they kept walking, and walking and walking, along the train tracks to this place Terminus. 'Sanctuary for all'. Somehow he found that hard to believe. But maybe he would be surprised. Maybe it would be a sanctuary. Maybe they could take a break for once. Yeah. As far as Daryl was concerned, it wasn't damn likely.

TAGS: OPEN

Tags (for this series):

Tags(Daryl Dixon):

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shyvioletcat · 4 years ago

Note

Hiya can you please do aelin telling rowan she’s pregnant with triplets ;)

I did it... it’s a part two to Apples and Jam

~~~~~

Aelin felt like she was going to fall asleep on the examination table if the ultrasound technician didn’t get to work soon. She was 10 weeks along in this pregnancy and this would be the first time they would see their baby, but Aelin was just so tired the stillness was threatening to put her to sleep. She didn’t remember being this tired last pregnancy, and she didn’t remember showing this early either, even with it being twins. But apparently you showed earlier in second pregnancies according to Aelin’s research, something about the body knowing what to do. That’s what Aelin had convinced herself of anyway.

Rowan reached over and took her hand and they shared a sweet smile as the technician finally gelled up the wand of the ultrasound machine.

“Alright, lets see what we have here,” she muttered and got to work.

Rowan gripped her hand tighter as they watched the grey blobs on the screen move around, waiting to catch that first glimpse. The two of them had got pretty good at it from the amount of scans they had to have with the twins, it had been Rowan who had pointed out that one was a girl and one was a boy.

“Ah, there we go,” the technician said. Aelin didn’t know her name, it wasn’t the same one who had done the check ups on the twins.

But she knew what she was doing, and she zeroed in on that little bean and Aelin felt tears pricking her eyes. She looked at Rowan to see him wiping away a tear before it fell, giving her a watery smile. A buzzing sounded and Rowan took his phone out of his pocket.

“I just have to get this, I’ll be back in a minute,” Rowan said as he gave Aelin a kiss and gave the screen another long loo. Aelin didn’t mind him ducking out, they were old hands at this.

“Oh, wait a second,” the technician’s voice was full of surprise.

Aelin’s head turned back to the screen so fast her hair flicked her in the face as her heart jumped to her throat. Nononono.

“Looks like weave got two in there,” the technician said, a hesitant smile on her face. “No, hold on…”

Aelin blew out a sigh as relief flooded her body. It was just one. Just one, precious baby.

“Yep, that’s three.”

“Pardon?” Aelin asked, choking on the word.

The technician took a moment to reposition the wand. “There we have one, two, and three.” The technician smiled hesitantly taking in the look of utter shock on Aelin’s face. “Maybe I should have waited for your husband to get back before I dropped that bomb.”

“Are you sure?” Aelin blurted.

“As sure as I can be,” the technician said, she was already focused back on getting the snapshots for the doctor. “I guess it’s three siblings for you bub instead of one.”

“Twins, we have twins already,” Aelin said flatly.

“Oh,” was what the technicians said, that was all she said.

Oh indeed…

The door opened and Rowan came back in, an assured smile on his face. The technician wouldn’t look at him, probably knowing the death of this man was imminent.

“What did I miss?” Rowan said, still smiling as he sat back down on his stool.

“It’s triplets,” Aelin said.

Rowan laughed. “Very funny, Fireheart.”

“It’s not a joke.”

Rowan looked at her then, his face falling when he saw how serious her face was. “Oh.”

The technician obliged them as showed them the three foetuses again before putting the wand down. “I’m all done, I’ll give you two a moment,” she practically whispered as she handed Aelin some paper town and walked out.

Heavy beats of silence filled the room. Rowan had gone impossibly pale looking like he was going to vomit.

“I don’t know… I mean,” Rowan stammered and ran his fingers through his hair. “We’re happy right?”

“I should have castrated you while I had the chance,” Aelin said, the shock of it all making her feel things she couldn’t explain. “We are never having sex again, I swear. Not if you keep knocking me up like this.”

“Yeah, that’s fair. That’s fair,” Rowan muttered mostly to himself. Then he reached out and cleaned the gel off Aelin’s stomach and then rested his hand on her bare skin over where their three new babies were making their home. “We can do this, Fireheart.”

Aelin started crying as she nodded, she knew they could and there was no one else she would rather do this with than Rowan. “I love them all so much already,” she sobbed.

Rowan moved his hand and helped Aelin roll her shirt back down and to sit up. “I do too. And I can’t wait to tell the twins.”

They kissed before Rowan helped her down from the table, then they just held each other for a while. Then Aelin looked up, her chin resting on Rowan’s chest as he looked down at her.

“I think,” Aelin said, a crooked smile on her face. “We might need both grandmothers to move in for a while. I feel like they might even help me hide your body.”

“So we’ve gone from castration to murder have we?” Rowan asked.

“We went from one baby to three in a matter of moments, things escalate quickly around here,” Aelin explained.

“Things escalating quickly is what got us into this mess in the first place,” Rowan said, trying not to laugh as he kissed her again.

“You can’t make jokes yet. Only I’m allowed to make jokes right now, because I’m the one carrying three babies,” Aelin said, poking her husband very pointedly in the chest.

“Whatever you say, dear,” Rowan said as he held the door open for her.

Aelin felt that in the coming months that phrase would become one of Rowan’s most favourite things to say.

~~~~~

I felt a little mean doing this to them, but it’s was far too entertaining.

Tags:

@fucking-winchester-trash // @literary-licorice // @galyxsy // @tangledraysofsunshine // @highqueenofelfhame // @3am-reading // @soup-that-is-too-hawt // @aelinfire-bringer // @nalgenewhore // @highladyofthesith // @http-itsrebecca // @sleep-and-books // @alifletcher2012 // @westofmoon // @sleeping-and-books // @ttakeitbacknoww // @armixers-unite // @mariamuses // @chocolate-eating-bitch-queen // @velarian-trash // @queenofxhearts // @heroesofterrasen // @highladyofstoriesandmusic // @empire-of-wildfire // @camerooonchiu // @crackedship // @lowhangingtreebranches // @over300books // @yourwhisperingshadows // @thesirenwashere // @tswaney17 // @impossiblescissorspeachpaper // @cat5313 // @judelovescardan // @flowerspringsea // @chaoticskyy // @the-regal-warrior // @fanfictrash3000 // @blueeyes425 // @starseternalnighttriumphant // @bamchickawowow // @thehuntressofmoon // @giorgia-the-trashpanda // @flora-and-fae // @thereaderandfangirl // @illyrian-bookworm // @chemicha // @meltalgel-ig // @gay-book-nerd // @that-odd-puzzle-piece // @i-love-all-books // @in-love-with-caramel-macchiato // @girl-who-reads-the-books // @hizqueen4life // @the-third-me // @queen-of-glass // @bestmelle // @cursebreaker29 // @b00kworm // @superspiritfestival // @aesthetics-11 // @maastrash // @mynewdreamwasyou // @the-last-apprentice // @charincharge // @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln // @scarznstars // @absolute-dissapointment // @thesurielships // @df3ndyr // @trinitybailey2003 // @ladywitchling // @booknerdproblems // @rowaelin-cressworth // @sevenfreckles-for-sevenloves // @rolltide7 // @scandinavianromantic // @tillyrubes10 // @starwarsslytherin // @minaidss // @paytin77 // @jesstargaryenqueen // @anntheintrovert // @starborn-faerie-queen // @loudphantomdragon // @woollycat22 // @claralady // @perseusannabeth // @fangirlprincess09 // @maddymelv // @sierrareads // @littleboxofthunder // @empress-ofbloodshed // @aelin-queen-of-terrasen // @alyx801 // @amandaswallowtail // @louiseleblancdiggory // @abookishfreak

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boognish-worshipper · 3 years ago

Text

Midnight City AU

this is an au where the main characters are all young adults!! (or millennials ig? they’re in their 20s basically) i gave a rundown of what’s what on a diff post,, i’m also splitting it up into diff chapters,, so this is gonna take a looooong time to finish. i’m posting this before i nitpick my writing to the max

it’s basically a lot of references to that point in time, artists, pop culture etc. all the chapters are named after songs from that era (including the name of this au bc i love midnight city and what better way to describe LS ‼️), and the lyrics r usually connected to what the chapter’s about, or about a character dynamic :D i hope this isn’t too cheesy, or sounds off ig. any typos in this were probably over looked bc i constantly reread my writing and rearrange stuff and make sure it sounds good 🥳 hope y’all enjoy !!! i’m also including a tag to find the chapters under :)

//Chapter 1: Crimewave

Trevor would never, ever admit it, but he had fallen into the category known as “post-hipster”. This was a strange era that began culminating, taking LS by storm. Whether he liked it or not, he could never avoid it. Even if he swore up and down he wasn’t like them, it was practically a paradox. Saying he wasn’t like them just made him a branched off version of the thing he denounced. Each aesthetic that was churned out as the 2010s rolled in were tied to a style, a sound, and Trevor couldn’t care less. It’s not like people liked what he liked. He didn’t belong to anything in particular, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t like them. If anything, he just became another obscure genre in the mix.

One of his favorite music groups was a Canadian duo called Crystal Castles. He enjoyed a good number of their songs, developing an interest for electropunk and pop punk. There was something unique about the sound, and it made Trevor feel special, like he discovered some sort of hidden treasure. He was into pop punk groups like Paramore too, but it was something about them that was just different. People knew Paramore. He often lingered around Sterling Lake, where other post-irony hipsters and classic hipsters resided, careful not to fully associate with them. After all, he apparently despised them, even though he participated in their strange… “culture”. If you could even call it that. From time to time he would find himself discussing his favorite artists with whatever semi-normal person was there, making a couple friends himself who weren’t the snooty kind he’d grown used to.

They all loved talking about how exceptional their taste in music was, a wide variety of people hanging around with their own cliques. Some liked Fall Out Boy, while others liked Blink-182, and then there were the weirdos who liked groups like Radiohead. Most of those guys were whiny, proclaiming how misunderstood they were. He knew maybe one Radiohead song at most (he definitely, definitely never cried to “Creep” and even if he did, so what) but never found himself willingly getting into their music. Then you had the nosedivr crowd, which consisted of mostly girls, and the occasional hipster guy that defected. Their taste was.. alright. Consisted of artists like Lana Del Ray and Marina and the Diamonds, who were their idols. He found almost everyone there besides the few friends he made kind of edgy, and not in the cool way. But he figured all hipsters and guys like them were kind of uncool. Don’t even get him started on those other indie rock types. God. He still came back as often as he could though, establishing some kind of routine. Most people there avoided him anyway, which he preferred. He had enough troubles with them in the past. There was one day he grew tired of the people gawking at him, and he launched a hipster right into the lake. So yeah, nobody within their right mind so much as looked in his direction. That was just how he rolled.

Today, he sat on a nearby bench in Sterling Lake’s park, watching some ducks float on water. His usual friends had been there too, seeing his clowncore buddy Wade with his cousin Floyd. Wade was extremely different than the pretentious fucks around them. He had a shit ton of piercings, and ICP was his favorite music group. Floyd on the other hand, fit right in. Almost too much, like it was something he was forced to do. But he did genuinely enjoy Weezer, of all things you could enjoy. Wade started waving at Trevor, while Floyd hid behind him. All he did was awkwardly wave back, turning his attention back to the lake. He liked Wade, but the clown stuff he wore sometimes spooked him. He didn’t pay much mind to his relative. Looking back across the water, he saw someone new, observing the area. Some dude a little above the average height, hands in his pockets walking around. He seemed a bit lost, and Trevor figured he should help if he was. After all, what was this guy doing here? New people didn’t show up often.

“Hey bud, you lost or something?”

“Oh uh, nah not really. I’m just looking for this girl I met a while ago, said she hangs out around here?”

“What she look like? I’m here pretty often.”

“Uhh kinda short, dark brownish hair? Wears fishnet stockings, high waisted shorts or whatever those grunge people are into.”

“Let me guess, she into the Neighborhood?”

“How’d you know?”

“Yeah, that’s Amanda, she’s a bit of a regular. Not too fond of me I must say.”

“How come?”

“She’s just petty towards me.” He said with a shrug. He didn’t feel like relaying his encounters with her if the guy was dating her or something.

“Oh… well d’ya think you could help me find her? I don’t really know anybody else here. I could actually use the help, since you know her.”

“Eh sure, why not.”

It’s not like he had anything better to do. The two began to walk around the park, gravel and dirt crunching beneath their feet.

“So.. what’s this place about?” The strange guy asked.

“Hm? Oh, it’s just one of those places the hipster folks meet up I guess. Don’t understand it much myself, nor do I really like them.”

“Then why do you come here?”

“Dunno. It’s relatively peaceful, those freaks keep to themselves.”

The man, who was only a smidge shorter than Trevor, glared up at him.

“Hey man, don’t call my girl a freak.”

“Ehh I don’t really count her in with the generic skinny jean wearing hipsters. More of a.. what is it called.. nosedivr type. Whatever that stupid website’s called. Why do you think she dresses like that?”

“Huh.. Never really thought to ask her.”

As he thought about the stuff Amanda wore, he took note of how the man next to him was dressed. He sported an olive jacket with a black turtle neck, and a plain pair of jeans. He wore beat up black converse to top it off, and a pair of Rimmers sunglasses sat upon his head. He looked simple, yet distinguished with the way he presented himself, hair neatly combed back. He figured the two would look nice standing next to one another. They would’ve made an attractive couple, if they weren’t dating already, the kind that turns heads. Trevor wasn’t like them. He wore a black beanie over his mullet, and his favorite pair of red Dix sunglasses rested on the bridge of his nose. The rest of his fit looked disheveled. He had thrown on a wrinkled top, solid black with little surf boards and cars along the bottom- he was a sucker for Hawaiian shirts. His pants were tan colored but had some bleach stains, with old combat boots on his feet.

“Yeah, we may not like each other but I don’t really consider her a freak like those guys.”

He jutted a thumb in the direction of a circle of guys huddled around a phone. The man holding the phone had strawberry blonde hair and a clean outfit on. An expensive looking outfit.

“Who are they?”

“The people here I absolutely cannot fucking stand. The genuine hipsters.”

“Oh.. and you’re..?”

“I’m my own kind. I’m not like these losers, all uppity and shit.”

“Right. Gotcha.”

They walked around a bit more before finding the group Amanda was with. She sat on a bench, chatting with a few girls who dressed similarly to her. All of them had black incorporated into their style. She herself had a black jumper on, tucked neatly into the front of her jean shorts. Just like the guy described, she had fishnets on under them, skater shoes to match. Loose braids fell on her shoulders, and a small black choker was wrapped around her neck.

“Oh, there he is now! Babe! Over here!”

She narrowed her eyes upon seeing Trevor standing next to him.

“Hello, Trevor.” She huffed.

“Relax, I was helping your boyfriend or whatever look for you.”

Her face softened slightly, but still kept a small glare in his direction. She pressed her lips together tight before replying.

“Thanks, I guess.”

“Yup.”

The man turned to face Trevor, sticking out a hand.

“Hey, thanks for showing me around. Trevor, is it?”

“Don’t wear it out.”

He shook his hand, noticing how soft it was. It was in stark contrast to his own, which was rough and calloused.

“Name’s Michael. I’ll see you around most likely? Thanks again.”

“Yeah, no problem.”

Amanda huffed again, nudging Michael’s shoulder.

“Let’s go hun, Bean Machine closes soon!”

“I’m comin’ I’m comin’!”

The two sauntered off, hand in hand. Trevor stood dumbly, watching them walk away. He was right. They did look good together. He wondered if he would actually see this Michael again, kicking a rock. He went back to the bench he originally sat at, putting his earbuds in, listening to some Crystal Castles again to pass the time. The beat thumped in his ears, and all he could think was how much better this shit was compared to that club music shit that played on every radio station in a 5 foot radius. He sat there, scrolling through his own secret nosedivr account, reblogging some photo of a lit cigarette. Right before a hand touched his shoulder causing him to jump.

“What the fuck- Oh. Ron.”

Ron was another friend of Trevor’s, a guy he had met outside one of the iFruit stores talking about how “they’re tapping the phones they sell in there!” and all that conspiracy nonsense. He was a paranoid guy, but Trevor kind of liked that about him. Those were the kind of freaks he liked. He was shorter than Trevor, sort of frail in stature. He wore a bright red windbreaker over a faded tourist tee that read “I went to Liberty City and all I got was this lousy t-shirt!”, along with khaki colored cargo shorts. It didn’t help that he wore some goofy looking bucket hat, and socks with sandals. He dressed like someone’s middle aged father.

“Trevor! Have you seen Wade around anywhere?”

“Last I checked, he was with Floyd.”

“Did he say where he was going?”

“Uh no, but my best bet is they went to that vinyl shop Floyd’s girlfriend works at.”

“Will ya come with me to find him?”

“Now why the fuck would I do that? What do you need him for?”

“Well I- I uh- um..”

“I uh! I uh! Spit it out Ron!”

“It’s about the Merryweather Night Club.”

Merryweather was a big organization that had a wide range of private clubs all over the country, and complimentary body guards to suit. They were all expensive as fuck, and anywhere they settled jacked up the prices of everything else. A lot of neighborhoods became gentrified as a result, and people actually considered it a good thing. What a fucking joke. Trevor of course couldn’t stand it. He hated bullies, and Merryweather was no exception. He’d been wanting to dismantle the club since they settled in LS, seeing as they only amplified the fake feel of the city. Let’s just say he’s gotten into more than a few scuffles with the club. And let’s just say it ended with someone getting stabbed as a result. The guy had it coming to him anyway. Between bouncers and the clubbers, they didn’t like Trevor or his kind loitering around the joint. It didn’t stop him from plotting some sort of revenge though. Ron per usual was on board, his reason being Merryweather’s violent history that had been swept under the rug. They were rather forceful relocating people who had lived in certain neighborhoods for years, Ron being one of their victims. Wade only decided to tag along because he wanted to be included.

“Ah fuck, what’d those bastards do now?”

“They’re throwing some big party!”

“…What fucking for?”

“All I know some guy’s coming to visit, somebody they labeled important and he’s-“

“Woah woah woah wait, Ron. Who?”

“Steve Haines.” He breathed out, careful not to be overheard.

Trevor’s eyes widened, his gaze shooting over to the posse he had poked fun of before. Steve was talking to the group, all of them doing that fake laugh they always did. God, even their humor was pretentious.

“Those fucking hipsters!” He hissed.

“I abhor them, you know that-“

“I know. I know. But, that Weston guy’s gonna be there with him-“

“Weston? Devin Weston?”

If Trevor hated hipsters, then he utterly loathed rich daddy’s money boys like Devin Weston. He had only gotten that stupid fucking night club because his father paid Don Percival enough money to let Devin do whatever he pleased with the Merryweather body guards. It was an elitist club, and they only allowed the best of the best in there.

“What the fuck’s going on there?”

“Something to do with those guys he hangs out with. I think they’re doing something major, expansion maybe-”

“And him and Devin are working together or..?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t hear much after that, that’s why I wanted to grab you and Wade and-”

“Then let’s fucking go get him, Ron!”

The two rushed out of there, heading for the vinyl store to look for Wade. Trevor knew a shit storm was coming, and he absolutely couldn’t wait.

//the next chapter’s gonna be longer i promise lolz

#gta v #grand theft auto v #michael de santa #trevor philips #young trikey #franklin clinton #lamar davis #lester crest #amanda de santa #steve haines #midnight city au

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gumidols · 4 years ago

Text

Komahina Family AU

•Makoto is the baby

•So is Komaru

•There’s a 15 year age gap between Hajime and Nagito and Makoto and Komaru

•Hajime and Nagito are 23 when Makoto is 5 and Komaru is 4

•so when Makoto is 15 they’re 30, and when he’s 19 they’re 34

•Hajime’s a Police Officer

•Nagito is a fashion designer

•and he’s over his whole “Fuck anyone who isn’t an ultimate” phase

•Hajime helped him with that

•But it comes back in full force after Junko’s done with him

•Hajime finds Makoto and Komaru in a burnt down house and says fuck it and adopts them

•He didn’t think things through

•His Ultimate Dad instincts came thru ig

•Hajime did the Izuru Kamukura project in high school

•but nothing happens

•Or so he thinks

•it was just like inactivated

•or was it?

•Why can’t I just give you a straight answer?

•cause I’m a bitch

•Junko’s 19 and she manages to manipulate 16 adults

•Istg

•Hajime gives Makoto the middle name Chiaki because she insisted

•but for some reason they didn’t give it to Komaru

•because she thought Makoto was a girl and he was the oldest

•So his name is Makoto Chiaki Hinata

•Nagito took Hajime’s last name because he wants to distance himself from the Komeada name

•His dad was a dick

(•he still died tho)

•Nagito thinks he’s gonna be a dick and a bad parent to Makoto and Komaru because of this and ends up distancing himself cause he’s scared of his luck and he just buys them things

•he’s rich as fuck, from both the inheritance and all the money he makes from being one of the most popular fashion designers in the world. He has a massive company and could practically do anything. Hundreds of companies are trying to buy his business including the Togami’s but Nagito’s refused them all

•he’s basically the Gabriel Agreste of Danganronpa but with a better fashion sense

•Makoto the fucking 5 year old goes into therapist and lecture mode and tells Nagito that just buying them things isn’t going to work and that he doesn’t need to buy things for them to love him. He is incredibly mature. Well as mature as a 5 year old can be. He says it in a childish way but it’s the thought that counts

•after that Nagito learns that Makoto is immune to his luck. Not Komaru, only Makoto

•On the first day of HPA, Makoto has like a really big fight with Hajime, who doesn’t want him to go there because he knows how shitty it is, and Hajime says “I lik ur g cut” and smacks him

•When he comes back they make up sure but Makoto can’t remember that since Junko wiped his memories from that day onward

•so for the entire killing game Makoto is scared that he’s going to die without being able to apologize to his dad

•and it almost convinces him to kill

•but then Maizono beats him to it

•Makoto, Komaru, Hajime and Nagito all have like a lot of fond memories together like baking, playing tag and hide and seek, shit like that

•Just thought you should know

•when Makoto is 19, Junko strikes and kidnapps all of the previous members of class 77 (63 in this au)

•Makoto is still in class 78 btw

•Chiaki is pitted against children

•obviously she goes ham and wins, making it to the goal

•then she gets speared

•Junko met Izuru like a good few months earlier

•turns out he was taking over Hajime’s body after he fell asleep and just walked around, bored out of his mind

•how nobody knows this or noticed this when Hajime and Nagito sleep in the same bed I don’t fucking know Ultimate Luck or sum shit. Ultimate Spy? Smh

•Junko tries to convince him to murder Nagito, Makoto, and Komaru, telling him that he’ll feel massive despair and that he’ll never be bored again

•Izuru declines

•he doesn’t truly know why

•the previous members are still really close to this day, with it being normal to see any of them randomly at the Hinata household

•Souda to this day is chasing after the already married Sonia and Gundahm

•”She’s just playing hard to get!”

•you caught me the only reason I wanted to make this au is because I wanted to write Makoto calling Souda and everyone else Aunties and Uncles fucking fight me

•Uncle Souda, Aunt Sonia, Uncle Gundahm, Aunt Mahiro, Aunt Hiyoko, you get the drill it’s fucking adorable

•Hinata and Nagito are the only ones with children, with Sonia and Gundam having started getting ready for their honeymoon

•They’re all really close so when Chiaki dies they all go HAHHAH DESPAIRRR and then while Hajime is despaired Izuru takes over his body completely, believing to have erased Hajime’s existence completely

•I’ll give you hint, he’s not completely erased

•Komaru, who was waiting in the car, goes into the school

•Uh oh

•Makoto, hearing the commotion, runs out of his classroom even though his teachers told him to stay as the school burns down, along with the reserve building

•(yea, the reserve course is still going. Jin is a fucking snake)

•Then he watches Nagito shoot his sister

•she lives, because it was only a shoulder hit, but Makoto thinks she died

•Nagito goes to finish Makoto off but Izuru beats him to it and throws a knife at him, making sure not to kill him

•the two have a really deep talk about why they were doing this, with Makoto begging Izuru to remember him and calling him ‘Daddy’ but not in the sexual way but in the ‘I’m scared and I need comfort and I know you still love me somewhere in there dad’ way in complete pain and anguish and it’s fucking hurting me to write

•after he’s passed out Kamukura wipes his memories, and heals him so he can go into the killing game

•Makoto in the killing game talks incredibly fondly of his family, and it’s obvious that he cares for them a lot, to the point of even contemplating murder to keep them safe

•Makoto’s mood can switch at the drop of a literal hat, because while he may not be Hajime and Nagito’s birth son, he still takes after them a lot thanks to their influence

•so Makoto can go from caring angel, to pissed off grouchy ass, to fucking hoping psychopath, in the span of mere seconds, although he mostly goes into crazed compliment all ultimates mode to make people (cough Munakata, Juzo and Togami cough) leave him alone or when he wants to get out of situations

•he also has a switch in one of his pockets, and a game boy in the other, kudos of Chiaki

•the real reason he wears a hoodie is to hold all those games

•At random times he can just flash from normal guy trying to figure out class trials to a fucking psychopath that’s apparently so fucking scary and intimidating that the Genocider herself admits to being terrified of him when he gets like that, the rest of his classmates agreeing never to piss him off

•Byakuya excluded. He’s still terrified of Nagito mode Makoto but he still fucks him over multiple times

•Later, Byakuya finds out that Makoto has more money then him, and he goes absolutely bonkers

•if anyone asks why Togami asked for a few custom made suits they’re all getting executed

•Makoto’s like really good at sewing

•Like really good

•Like give the Ultimate Seamstress a run for her money kinda good

•Like he touches a needle and suddenly you can’t stop him. Komaru and Hinata learned the hard way not to give him and Nagito both needles and put them in the workshop together. They wouldn’t come out for days.

•Makoto refuses to admit this though, and thinks he sucks at sewing

•Makoto is always embarrassed to invite people/friends to his house, because of his parents, but they always end up loving them because of how fun they are

•Makoto is always grumpy by the end and asks them ‘Have YOU had to be in their presence for more then a few hours?’

•After learning about the Tragedy, about how both of his parents played gigantic roles in it, how they put him into the killing game and wiped his memories, and how they ‘killed’ Komaru and almost killed him, he still forgives them without a second thought, both during the killing game, and after Hinata and Nagito wake up. He stated that he knows it wasn’t their faults, and that the person who really killed Komaru was her, Junko.

•When Makoto is executed, his luck manages to save him, managing to shock both Nagito and even Kamukura, who both initially thought that he had no luck whatsoever, and was simply immune to Nagito’s luck

•Kamukura cares about Makoto a lot, taking care of him in ways that only resemble fatherly urges. He’ll threaten and kill anyone who puts Makoto’s safety at risk, and is over protective and incredibly overbearing

•he refuses to admit it though

•He pretends he doesn’t care and A.I Junko finds it incredibly amusing

•he threatens the FF daily you didn’t need to know that I just wanted you to imagine Kamukamu as a Karen

•Like they think he’s finally come to kill them but instead he just switches to Junko’s teacher personality and all hell breaks loose

•Ok but Kamukura in a ponytail and glasses like #blessed

•Nagito also wears reading glasses. And he keeps his hair tied in a ponytail. Normally. Just thought you should know

•Hajime also has reading glasses

•Makoto also has a gun

•That escalated quickly

•Like Nagito got him a glock without telling Hajime and he’s just hiding it in his jacket

•He’s literally just Nagito 2.0 with Hajime traits and it’s scaring everyone

•He also has a rusty hello kitty pocket knife

•Multiple rusty hello kitty pocket knifes

•nevermind, that’s why he has so many pockets

•also for pens

•Why? Do you think I know?

#danganronpa #AU #makoto naegi #komaru naegi #hajime hinata #komaeda nagito #komahina #komahina parent au #I just-#*cradles au gently in arms*#I just love it so much #please ask me about this one #and just talk to me about this au #I just adore it so much #makoto and komaru as the komahina love children are just so perfect #give me your headcannons #or anything really #this au is my literal dopamine

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