#maybe a bit like dar

[lunasdestiny]

Doodles

[darylbae]

there’s just smth about daryl seeing you injured maybe a broken leg or even an amputated one from a bite and limping, someone holding you up as you walk. he’d almost run over to you and pick you up.

a dumb idea — daryl dixon 🩰

in which you were injured on a run, and daryl can't bare to see you that way without helping.

Rick had chosen you for a run, not alone, but for you to go. He'd seen you were quick, efficient with your melee weapons, and were probably one of the best choices. You were joining Rick and Glenn, Daryl having to sit this one out by Rick's orders. He hadn't cleared the prison in full yet, so he wanted Daryl back here to keep watch. Daryl and you weren't exclusively a thing, neither of you had spoken about it at all, but everyone else could see it was waiting to happen. You were currently just really good friends hiding your feelings for each other, or at least thinking you were hiding your feelings for each other. You were sat in the backseat of the car, happily talking to Glenn as the car rolled towards the gates. You glanced out the window to see Daryl, sulking at the gate yet picking his arm up to wave at you. You returned the gesture, a sweet smile on your face that Daryl had become addicted to. One of the many addicting things about you.

Your positive-for-the-end-of-the-world attitude had come to an end when you'd ran into a building to find some cover, the darkness of the building rendering you blind as your leg had been impaled by a broken bit of a glass shelf. You let out a cry, falling to your feet as Rick and Glenn rushed over to assist you. "You good?" "What happened?" Rick had turned a flashlight to your leg, seeing your jeans ripped and stuck to your leg with the amount of blood. You almost passed out at the look of it, the glass had lodged itself in there pretty snug. "We need to get her back, now," Rick demanded, wrapping an arm around your back and coordinating with Glenn to get you safely to the car. Rick had taken his shirt off and tied it around your leg above the wound, before beginning the drive back to the prison. Glenn had trained his eyes on you and your leg for most of the drive, making sure you were still alive and not dying back there. The drive felt like hours, you felt like closing your eyes but Glenn was adamant on talking to you. Telling you about Maggie, telling you about how sweet Daryl seems to be around you, and you knew it was a distraction tactic, to keep you awake and not looking at your completely blood soaked shin.

You heard the rattle of the gates as they'd slid open for the car, and you felt a short burst of relief to be back. "Dar..." You managed to speak, wincing as Rick had reached for your hand to pull you out. "Daryl." Rick and Glenn had their arms under yours, carrying most of your weight for you. Until Daryl had heard the commotion and come out to see what the fuck people were shouting for.

Daryl saw you. Your leg, completely red from the knee down, being assisted into the prison. He wanted to help, he wanted to ease your pain even just a little. Dropping his crossbow to the ground, he'd paced over to you, relieving Glenn and Rick of their duties. "It's okay, I got ya," he cooed, "I got 'er," he'd lifted you, arms clinging to you as he led you to the cell block. "It's okay, sweetheart." Your blood loss wasn't fatal, thankfully, but Herschel was about to have you on the mend in no time.

You'd been allowed to rest, peeling your eyes open after having slept a while. The first thing you were aware of was the pain in your leg, which was thankfully still there. It was still light outside, so it must not have been long at all. A bottle of water and some pain meds were sat at your bedside, and you'd desperately taken them in order to ease your pain. "There's my girl." You heard, and Daryl had entered your cell and sat at your side. "How's the leg?" You chuckled. "It's seen better days." You could've sworn you'd spotted a smile on his face for a moment. "Were you scared? Did you think I was gonna die?" You teased, poking his arm and smiling innocently up at him. "No," he answered, "you're a fighter. I know that." There was something he was keeping to himself, you could see it in his brain. Almost as if he wasn't allowing himself to say it. It had been a tough process even getting to a friendly level with him, he had always kept his feelings to himself. But you liked to believe you were making progress with him, you wanted to. "What's on your mind?" You asked sweetly, your voice like honey, and he was addicted. God, he was addicted. He wanted nothing more than to have you night and day, for breakfast, lunch and dinner. But he didn't know the first thing about flirting, or even dating. "Nothin," he grumbled, and you sighed dramatically. "Come on, Daryl," you exclaimed, "talk to me. I need some sort of stimulation for my brain." Your voice was light, but you meant it. He paused, almost debating whether or not to say it. "I just care about ya, is all. When I saw ya bein carried in, my mind just stopped and all I wanted to do was make sure you were okay. Told Rick it was a dumb idea." You smiled, poking his arm again. "You care about me, that's sweet. I care about you, too." He grabbed your hand as it made contact with his arm, and just held it between his own. This was his way of expression, to show you how he felt without ruining it with his words. The pair of you just sat in silence, hands interlaced, a stupid grin on both your faces as you stared at each other. Adrenaline was pumping through your veins, a wave of confidence taking over you as you leaned up and pressed a small kiss to his cheek. Once Daryl had registered what you'd done, he'd turned his head, closing the small gap between you both for a delicate kiss. He was so gentle, his hands still holding yours firmly, and you wanted to do this forever. "I hope that speaks better than I do." He admitted, and you just laughed, resting your head on your shoulder. "Now get some rest, I don't want to see ya on your feet for the rest of the day."

[blastoqueen]

Sunrise.

Chapter 5

Rating: Teen and Up

Relationships: Noa x Mae (Kingdom of the Planet of the Apes)

Content warnings: None

Comments: English is not my first language. I recommend you to watch the deleted scene where Noa and Mae talk about dreams and the telescope, it's not too important but it gives a tiny little bit of context for a short paragraph in the story. Enjoy!

Anaya woke up in the morning with more energy than usual and went to the main tower to look for his best friend, hoping they could do some climbing later, maybe he could convince Noa to go beyond the valley and explore a little more the ancient Echoes civilizations. However, when he arrived at Noa´s room, he found nothing but his empty litter and Dar, who was just waking up.

“Dar!” Anaya said, feeling a little invasive “Good morning. Noa?”

The female ape yawned deeply and scratch her belly.

“Dar?”

“Oh, Anaya, I don´t know” she said uninterested, yet calm; getting up to start her day.

“You… not worried?”

“Why would I? Noa… old enough. Not a baby. Probably… out”

Anaya left the tower, feeling a little worried. Ever since the kidnapping, he started to feel uneasy, like he should be alert and ready to fight. When he couldn’t find his friends, he felt this tight in his stomach.

“It´s called anxiety” Noa explain when they were settling their home again. Anaya was brave enough to express his feelings to his leader, hoping he could give him a peace of mind “Raka… told me so”

Soon enough, that word had spread like a quick virus among the apes. Everyone was using it. Noa wondered if they were truly anxious from what happened, or if they were just interested in using a new word.

Walking through the village, Anaya found his best friend sleeping next to the horses, with a blanket over his head, covering him from the sun.

“Noa! What are you… doing?”

The leader woke up and rapidly sat. He looked around him and spotted Anaya looking down on him like he was crazy. Maybe he was.

“What?”

“Why are you here?”

“Oh, not reason” Noa answered, feeling shy and oddly embarrassed. His friend gave him a look “Okey, I was out… all night. When I came back… to tired to go up. Sleep here”

Anaya looked confused.

“Where?”

“Uh… to the lighting dancers’ field”

“What?!” Anaya screamed with excitement, Noa hushed him with his hand and took him to a more private place, just a few meters away from the village.

“Who is… the lucky one?” the eldest asked.

“What?”

“You know”

“I do not”

“Noa. Romantic place. Take girlfriend” Anaya was too excited at this point, giggling and jumping around his friend, happy to be the first to know the details of how the date had gone.

“No, Anaya, it wasn´t… like that” Noa sighed mildly annoyed. Kind of disappointed.

It had been just a sweet moment between Mae and him, it wasn´t a mating ritual, nor a proposal. It was just a night out with a girl he cared about and wanted to show her something nice and pretty.

He didn’t want anybody to think he was trying to marry Mae (´cause he was not). That would be weird. An ape and an animal, getting together? Now way. That was just unnatural, wasn´t it? It would be like marrying a horse. “Except it would not be like that, and you know it” Noa thought. “She has the same features as you. Apes and human… we are not that different” Except they kind of were “But she is smart. She is not like those animals”

“It was just a nice walk”

Anaya snorted at his answer, like it was an obvious lie.

“With… who?”

Noa wondered if he could trust his friend, in a normal situation he would, but Anaya had imagined a whole scenario about a mate and a proposal, he didn’t want him to get his ideas twisted.

“Mae”

The ape stood in silence. The leader couldn’t figure out his expression. It was a mix between shock and something else, maybe fear?

“But I told you… it wasn’t like that” Noa tried to explain, his voice sounded nervous, and he knew that it seemed like he was lying “Really. The Echo never saw the dancers before”

The silence was getting unbearable, he needed to get out of there soon. Acting annoyed and angry, Noa pushed lightly Anaya to the side and started to walk towards the village.

“Wait” Anaya said, “Did she… like the lights?”

Noa turn around and looked at his friend, a kind smile was growing in his face. Noa tried to give him the same gesture, but the anxiety was just too strong.

“Yes, she liked the lights”

“Enjoyed the night? Both”

“Yes, it was nice”

Anaya walked towards his best friend, with open arms and a sympathetic smile, ready to hug the other ape.

“Then… that is all… that matters”

---------

It was a chilly night, not cold, but Mae felt the need to get a blanket to covered herself from the wind. She was getting goosebumps and a slightly runny nose.

She was with a group of apes, sitting in a circle and just telling stories and legends, some were made up and some were real things that happened in the village a while ago. The human was sitting next to Soona and Case, listening to a semi old male ape talking about the time he saw a creature bigger than a horse, with big paws and very fat. He said it attacked his wife, but fortunately they made it to the village and loose the animal on the way. The other apes were making fun of his story, saying he was probably making all up.

Mae supposed the beast he was talking about was a bear, but she stayed silent. She didn’t know exactly why she felt so scared revealing more stuff about the world to the apes. Except she did know.

She was terrified of them sometimes. She could see how they were improving their speech, at least Noa. Mae tried to fake an ape way of speaking, but it was very difficult to pretend and not let difficult words come out of her mouth. It was easier to stay silent. And the reason? She felt like she was teaching them human ways. And that felt like a nightmare came true. Mae saw the evolution among the apes. Spreading.

She learned to be around them, to joke and live a simple life surrounded by the apes. But she felt like crossing a line when it came to “teach” them.

They learned fast. Noa was the fastest. She remembered their conversation at the fire camp when they were after Proximus, how the ape asked about what they saw inside the telescope. She lied and said she didn’t know. Because she was too scared to talk about things only humans on earth knew about.

That same night, she observed Noa, fixing the electric weapon. She was terrified.

“Cold?” said a male voice behind her. It was Noa, holding a blanket in his hands.

“Yeah, a little” Mae answered. The ape sat beside her, squishing between her and Case.

The female ape rolled her eyes and move next to Soona so Noa wouldn’t suffocate her.

Instead of giving Mae the blanket, the male wrapped it around her shoulders. The human girl stood still.

“What are they talking about?” the leader asked in a quiet voice, so he doesn’t interrupt the story telling.

“About everything” Mae said “That old ape saw a beast one time. Nobody believes him”

“Oh, the big paws monster?” Noa snorted.

“Have you heard his story?”

“Yes, he tells it all the time” Noa took a peach from his little bag and started to eat it. Mae noticed how he only eats with his mouth close now. Something he must have learn from the human girl.

“Do you not believe him?” Mae inquired with a rise eyebrow.

“Nobody does”

“Maybe we could—” the girl was interrupted by a different ape, pointing direct at her.

“Okey everyone! Maybe it´s… time… for the Echo… to tell a… story”

Some apes were exciting to hear what the human had to say, while others stayed silent, cautious.

“Oh, I… I don´t really have a story”

“Everyone has a story” Noa said with a grin, he was enjoying watching Mae get embarrassed.

“Can it be made up?”

“Of course”

“Well, uh… there is this story” Mae started “It was very popular in my home. Every kid knew about it. It´s about a princess, well, she wasn´t really one—”

“What is a… princess?” an ape asked from the opposite side of the circle.

“Uh… they used to rule kingdoms—”

Everyone started to murmur, scared, fresh memories of Proximus and the kidnapping.

“But they were nice kingdoms, they were gentle and kind, and showed mercy” That was a lie “Anyway, she was not really a princess, she was just a girl who worked really hard to get what she wanted. On the other hand, there was this boy, who was actually a prince. So, this prince gets turned into a frog by an evil man, and only a true love kiss could turn him back into a human. Then, this girl, found the frog and became very fond of him, they kissed, and the prince turned back into a human, they were happy after that”

There was a moment of complete silence, Mae held her beath, not knowing what to do or expect. Then, a whole lot of questions were asked, all at the same time, the girl tried to answer all of them, without revealing too much or making them confused. That wasn’t the whole story, she skipped a lot of details, but she knew the apes wouldn’t understand the concept of magic or human customs.

“How were… the princess?”

“They were beautiful girls with castles”

“The frog… talked? Like you?”

“Yes, he did. That is how they got to know each other”

After a whole bunch of questions, Noa noticed Mae getting overwhelmed, so he called it a night and send everyone to sleep.

He accompanied the Echo to her room, stopping at the door.

“Goodnight Mae. That was a good story” he said with a smile.

“Thank you”

“Sleep, princess”

[holdmytesseract]

Dad-to-be!Daryl fighting tooth and nail to keep the reader—who’s water had broken while they were on a walking around in the Hilltop—safe while trying to get her back to Alexandria so that Siddiq and Carol can help with the delivery of their little one. (Plus maybe the post-delivery fluff that ensues when Daryl and reader get their first moments alone with their baby.)

No pressure to write this! I just saw your post asking for dad!Daryl requests and had this idea, and thought I’d throw it your way. Love you whether you write this or not. 💜

In the Eye of the Storm

Daryl Dixon x fem!Reader

Summary: You go into labor while staying at the renewed Sanctuary. Daryl has to safely get you back home to Alexandria, of course - through a thunderstorm...

Warnings: usual TWD stuff, pregnancy, childbirth, baby things, mentions of blood, weapons, quite a bit angst, fluff, protective!Daryl

I tried to write this as accurate as possible. I'm no expert, heh.

Set in the beginning of season 9!

Word Count: 4,5k (whoops)

a/n: I'm not kidding when I say that I literally pounced that request. Gods, I loved to write this! Thanks for requesting, @dixons-sunshine ! I hope I did this justice! 🥹

EoH Masterlist °☆• Daryl Masterlist °☆• Masterlist

Daryl had a critical gaze directed at the darkening sky above him. The wind had picked up; bringing dark clouds over the Sanctuary. A thunderstorm was approaching - and fast.

Unbeknownst to him, had the archer started to chew on the inside of his bottom lip; causing you to gently squeeze his side. "Earth to Mr. Dixon," you giggled; trying to get his attention. "You okay, Dar?" The archer blinked and lowered his gaze back to you - his wife, who was neatly tucked against his side on a walk through the yard of the renewed Sanctuary; past the not yet growing crops which had been planted. You smiled up at him - slightly grimaced, but you smiled. He shook his head; "I shoulda been askin' you tha', sunshine..." eyes drifting to your prominent baby bump. You took a deep breath, but nodded. "Just Braxton Hicks, you know..."

Daryl's eyes drifted from your eyes to your (yet) unborn baby and back; a mix of worry and fear swimming in his blue-greyish orbs. You could tell. "Ya been havin' them already the whole day... Since we got up this mornin'. Ya sure this ain't the real thing?" Now you were the one shaking your head. "No. I promise, we're okay." "A'righ'." The archer jutted his chin towards the factory and looked back up in the sky. "Let's get ya back inside," he prompted and gave your hip a soft squeeze, before he started to walk; urging you on to follow. You nodded and scrunched your nose. "Yeah... Looks like rain."

With the first roll of thunder, Daryl closed the door behind you and him, without his hand leaving your body for even a second. He was so adamant to always be by your side; steady you and help you walk, it was ridiculously cute. It made you fall in love with the archer even more - not knowing it was even possible.

You giggled; one hand on the small of your back, the other on top of your belly. "Babe, you know I can stand on my own, right?" "Don care. Want ya close. 'Specially round 'ere... Ain't trustin' 'em..." You knew of course what he meant. The smile on your face immediately vanished; replaced by a concerned frown.

You understood Rick's intention; wanting to make Carl's last wish true. You'd do the same for your own child - within a heartbeat. You just didn't understand why Rick had charged Daryl of all people with the supervision of the Sanctuary. Sure, he was his bother, his right-hand-man, the one he possibly trusted most besides Michonne, but... After everything Daryl has been through here? After all the psychological torture? You knew it wasn't easy for your husband to be here. Even though he didn't say anything. You could feel it.

You took a step towards the archer; invading his space. Placing a hand on his chest and the other on his cheek, you scanned his face. "Daryl... You... You shouldn't be here. You shouldn't be the one having to do this. I'll have a-" You stopped dead in your sentence; eyes widening and heart leaping into your throat at the feeling you had just experienced. Daryl was immediately on alert; completely ignoring what you had just said. "Y/N?! Wha's goin' on?!" His free hand came to rest on the bump which was his child instantly.

You swallowed hard; taking a step away from him again and looked down yourself. A prominent wet patch was spreading across the crotch and inner thighs of your maternity sweatpants. "I-I think..." Your husband's eyes followed yours quick; realisation dawning on him right away. It could mean only two things...

1) You peed yourself.

Or

2) Your water broke.

The archer begged internally to whatever force above that it was not the latter. "Please tell me ya peed yerself..." Daryl mumbled under his shaky breath; already slightly on edge. It wasn't a fortunate moment for the baby to make their appearance... You were at the Sanctuary, for God's sake! Rosita and Eugene were the only one here you could truly trust. Not much medical supplies and even less people who knew how to birth a baby either.

"I-I'm honestly not sure, Dar..." He nodded; trying to keep his calm. "A'right. Let's, uh, get ya in a fresh pair of pants 'n check?" "Uh.Huh," you answered; nervously nibbling on your lip as well. You actually didn't want to 'do this to Daryl' now, but it wasn't like you could take a pick. It wasn't in your hands... It was in the tiny hands of the peanut living in your belly.

You felt your husband's strong arm around your waist once again; supporting you as best as he could and helping you to walk through the darkish, grey hallways of the 'former' enemies hideout and towards your shared room.

After the sweatpants and your panties were not much longer on your body, you and Daryl realised quickly that you did certainly not pee yourself. It was a different... substance - which meant the one thing the both of you hoped it wouldn't be... Your water broke.

"O-Oh, fuck, that's..." You cut off your own sentence; "W-What are we, uh, going to do now?" swallowing hard and balancing on one foot, while you gripped Daryl's shoulder as he helped you step inside a fresh pair of underwear and sweatpants.

The archer looked up at you; panic swimming in his blue-grey orbs. You could tell that his mind was working on overdrive to find an answer to your question. "I-I dunno, sunshine, I-" He inhaled a deep breath; eyes darting around the room. "Ya can't have the peanut here... 'S no doctor 'round. I ain't risking tha'..." Daryl shook his head and stood up; palms immediately lading on your hips. "W-We gotta get ya back to Alexandria. To Siddiq. Now." You nodded; clenching your jaw at the incoming contraction - and Daryl noticed, of course. "'N we gotta time 'em contractions. C'mon."

Trusting your husband and his decision making blindly, you quickly threw a few things you might needed in Daryl's beige backpack, while he was informing Rosita about the situation you found yourself in.

It didn't take the archer more than a few minutes to return to your side; giving you a helping hand and finally walking you back to the door, which led to the yard - but once he opened it, a harsh breeze hit him (and you) instantly; rain splattering across your faces.

Fuck... The thunderstorm... Daryl had totally forgotten about the weather conditions; too occupied with you and the baby. You did, too.

"Fuckin' shit," the archer cursed under his breath; trying to shield you from the rain with his broad body. "Well, that's gonna be a fun car ride, eh?" You halfway joked; trying to lift the mood, but without success. "I'll get the truck; park as close as somehow possible. No matter wha'... We have ta get ya back home."

The Sanctuary had borrowed a truck from the Hilltop for moving things and other 'heavy' stuff. It was the only car option Daryl got. Of course he couldn't take his bike. Hell no.

"Ya wait inside. Don want ya ta get wet 'n cold." You nodded; bracing yourself beside the door against the wall. "Ya good bein' alone?" Once again you nodded; giving him another half-smile. "Go." He gave you a last once over, before he stepped out in the rain to get the truck.

Soaked to the bones, he helped you down the stairs then and outside; sitting you in the passenger seat of the truck; not letting go of you for even a second. "Y-You're soaked, baby..." You noticed with a furrowed brow; concerned. "You'll catch a cold if you-" Your husband immediately interrupted you; shaking his head and squeezing your hand. "Doesn't matter. This ain't 'bout me. 'S 'bout ya 'n the baby."

You knew that arguing would be just a waste of time. It wouldn't help. And honestly were you way too tensed and stressed to discuss. So you said nothing.

"Ya comfortable, sunshine? Tha' okay fer now?" His voice was on edge. You could see how hard he was trying to not lose it. This spurred you even more on to keep a cool head yourself. After all, this was your first birth. Your first child. You wanted to panic and give into the nervousness, concern and fear, but you knew you couldn't. You had to try at least. For Daryl.

You nodded and gave him a soft smile. "Y-Yeah, I- We're good, I-I think. Thanks, babe." The small smile he gave you was sloshing over with nervosity and concern, but he tried as well.

Daryl quickly rounded the car and got inside the driver's seat; immediately starting the engine. "Let's get ya home." He started to drive, while you tried to focus on your breathing like Carol taught you. Both your hands splayed on your big baby bump; feeling the subtle movements of the child within you.

Some time passed until the next contraction hit you. You breathed through it; grimacing. "Damnit..." You gasped once the waves of pain subsided; noticing how Daryl gazed back and forth between a watch around his wrist you never saw before and the street. "Been 'bout forty minutes since the last one." You swallowed hard. "T-That's already quite close, isn't it?" He shrugged his shoulder. "I dunno, but... Feels like it." You shifted slightly in your seat and placed a hand on Daryl's hand, which was gripping the gear shift for dear life. "We're gonna make it, 'kay? Everything's gonna be okay," you tried to reassure Daryl - and yourself. You could see how he chewed on his bottom lip. "Shouldn't 'ave taken ya with me... Shoulda left ya back home where ya 'n the baby 'r safe 'n taken care of. Hell, I shouldn't 'ave left at all... 'S my fault tha' we gotta do this now."

You immediately shook your head and gave his hand another squeeze. "Dar, this is everything, but your fault. I was the one encouraging you to go... And I practically begged you to take me along, because I can't stand to be away from you - especially now. I knew the risk, but I made the decision. If anyone's to blame, it's me." Your husband just scoffed at your words and just as he actually wanted to answer, the sight of the street a few miles ahead forced him to stop the truck.

The thunderstorm hadn't calmed down in the slightest; was raging on and had caused a tree to fall and land in the middle of the street. "Shit... 'S too big ta move it... We have ta take a different road." His eyes landed on you, just like his hand on your swollen belly. "Can ya both hang on a lil' while longer? 'S a stupid question, ain't it?" You shook your head and gave him the most convincing smile you could muster in that moment. "It's not. I-I'll try... Right, peanut?" You addressed your unborn baby. "We'll try."

Unfortunately wasn't the fallen tree the only obstacle you had to overcome on your rushed journey to Alexandria... The storm was going on and definitely took its toll on the nature. And that wasn't the only problem... The night had settled over the world and the dead weren't exactly a help as well, and at some point were your contractions only fifteen minutes apart... It was a race against the time now - and your upcoming nerves. The closer you got to actually birthing your child, the worse it became. Fifteen minutes apart and you didn't even know if everything was fine and going the way it should down there. It was excruciating.

"Sonofabitch," you suddenly heard Daryl exclaim, which snapped you out of your thoughts. Lifting your gaze, you instantly understood what caused his small outburst... A few walkers were exactly in your way; stuck in the rain soaked, muddy ground. "Have ta get rid of 'em, sunshine," Daryl stated and already moved to unsheathe his knives from their confines; his barely dried clothes about to get soaked all over again. "I-I can help-" "Hell nah," he cut you off immediately; scoffing. "Yer stayin' right here inside the truck where ya 'r safe. I ain't riskin' a damn thing. Gotta keep ya safe." You nodded in defeat; realising once more that arguing wouldn't get you anywhere.

Daryl gave you a stern but loving look, before he took a deep breath and exited the truck. Anxiously, you watched your husband fighting off the undead threat. Sure, most of them were kinda stuck, but the noises had attracted more walkers... The headlights of the truck provided enough light for you to see what was going on in front of you, but not besides and certainly not behind the vehicle. The relentless rain made it difficult to see straight as well, and when another, much worse contraction hit you and the pain managed to blur your vision entirely, you lost sight of Daryl. Sweat was dripping over your brow as you couldn't hold back the scream which wanted to break free from your lips; hands clutching your baby bump. "O-Oh f-fuck..." Your fingers clenched into fists as you tried to breathe through the contraction. Agonisingly slow subsided the pain; leaving you breathless. You looked around through the windows; trying to find your husband. But you couldn't see him. It was quiet. Except for the running engine and the rain drumming down on the truck.

"D-Daryl?!" You called out; knowing very well that he couldn't hear you. Uneasiness crept up in you; threatening to cut off your airways and sent your anxiety skyrocketing. It didn't help that you were on edge already... What if something happened to him? What if he got bit? What if he...? Your brain already conjured the worst case scenarios, as suddenly two pale hands slammed against the window pane beside you; the tow curling growl almost giving you a heart attack. "Fucking hell!" You squeaked and clutched your now rapidly beating heart.

The hands clawed and scratched at the wet glass - but to your sheer endless relief didn't they stay long. With a dull thud hit the undead man's skull the window; blood splattering everywhere, before it got slowly washed away. The hands stilled, before they entirely disappeared. Blinking, you watched it happen, still somewhat caught up in your thoughts. But then, the driver's door got opened and slammed quickly shut again. A familiar grunt urged to your ears - and you could've cried of relief and happiness.

"Daryl!" You more or less whimpered; shifting in your seat as good as you could and turned to him; taking in his water and blood soaked appearance. Some blood was on his cheeks and water dripped down his long, brown hair. You reached for him; grabbed onto his wet sweatshirt and slippery vest. "A-Are you okay? I-I lost sight of you a-and..." You hiccuped; taking a deep breath. The archer immediately nodded and leaned in for a sweet, soft kiss; letting you feel that he was alive and well, before he moved to take your hands in his bigger ones. "'M good, sunshine. 'S a'right. 'M here." His blue eyes scanned your body then; lips pressed together in worry. "Wha' 'bout you?"

You swallowed hard. "H-Had another contraction..." His eyes widened. "Darlin', you had one barely ten minutes ago..." "I know." Daryl looked at you a few moments longer, before he gently let go of your hands and gripped the steering wheel instead. "We gotta keep movin'," he mumbled and kept on driving - and you knew he was right.

Luckily the truck didn't get stuck in the muddy mess ahead of you... That would've been the cherry on top.

It took you longer than planned to drive back to Alexandria, but in the end you finally made it - most likely just in time. You swore you were never that happy before to see the familiar gates of the place you called home. Daryl felt the same. You could tell.

The thunder and lighting had ceased by now. It was still raining, but not as bad. Due to the bad weather conditions was nobody on watch, but the archer knew that at least one person was positioned up in the windmill; looking out for threats from up there. So, he gave whoever was up there a sign; flashing the truck head lights three times and signalling that friends were standing in front of the walls and not enemies.

"Jus' a few minutes longer, sunshine. Almost there," Daryl tried to reassure you as he gently squeezed your hand. You just nodded; occupied with taking deep breaths.

Moments later, the gates got opened for Daryl to drive through, which he immediately did and headed straight for the infirmary; parking the car as close as he could get.

The approaching headlights must've caught Siddiq's attention, since the doctor immediately went to the door; trying to catch a glimpse of what was going on. He watched the archer quickly rounding the vehicle; getting soaked in the rain a third time. "Daryl?!" Siddiq called out; switching on his porch light. "What-" Daryl didn't let the man finish; cut him off mid sentence as he opened the door and helped you out. "Need yer help! Y/N's in labor!"

Siddiq didn't need more information. He knew and was immediately on high alert. The doctor opened the door and let the both of you in; instantly helping Daryl to steady you. Usually, he would've asked about your condition, but Siddiq knew the moment he saw you. "How far apart are the contractions?" You wanted to answer, but Daryl did for you. "'Bout six minutes." The black haired man nodded, "You got here just in time, I'd say." and helped you sit on the bed inside the room he had led you and Daryl in. "I'm afraid we have to get you out of these..." Siddiq nodded at your sweatpants. "Daryl, would you...?" Your husband's eyes were locked on you as he nodded slowly. "Yeah, I got it. C'mon, sunshine."

While Daryl helped you shimmy down your pants and panties, Siddiq prepared some things he needed in the upcoming hour(s)... Towels, gloves and some other medical stuff.

"Alright. I have to check on you. Is that alright?" Siddiq asked carefully; knowing how... protective and territorial the other present man in the room could get. You nodded; trying your hardest to not scream due to the contraction you were going through. The doctor noticed and placed a reassuring hand on your knee. "Deep breaths, Y/N. We got this, okay?" You gave your friend another nod, before he went to check as soon as your contraction subsided again.

"You're about eight centimetres dilated, I'd say." "'N tha' means?" Daryl spoke up with your hand neatly tucked in his, as he was standing by your side. "Two more and she'll be able to start pushing. Means, your baby will see the light of day in the next one or two hours." The colour visibly drained from the archer's face. He knew that he'd be a dad soon, but... That soon? You, on the contrary just groaned and threw your head against the pillow. "Thank fuck. I want this to be over... Hurts like a bitch - and I finally want to hold my baby."

Siddiq witnessed both very different reactions and tried to hide a smile; quickly deciding to give the soon-to-be-dad a little task to keep him from freaking out.

"Daryl?" The archer's gaze lifted from where he was staring at the floor and gnawing nervously on his thumb. "Could you get Carol? I might need her assistance." Daryl frowned in confusion, but the feeling which started to flood his veins was happiness. "She's here?" Siddiq nodded with a smile. "Yes. She was on the road and decided to stay for a few days. Might as well call it providence." The man nodded; shaking a few bangs of wild brown curls from his face and nibbled on his bottom lip again, but turned to you; needing your permission. "'S a'right if I go 'n get 'er, darlin'?" You nodded; sweat doting your forehead. "As long as you'll come back to me... Go. I'm in good hands." Your husband gave you a loving look and gently squeezed your hand, before he let go to get himself soaked in rain again - for the nth time... Not that he cared, though.

The archer didn't even had to ask where to look for his best friend. He knew. After all has she been sharing a house with the both of you, before she moved to the Kingdom. Where else to look but there

Opening the main door, he stepped inside; calling out for his friend. "Carol?!" It didn't take long for the grey haired woman to peak out from the kitchen in the hallways; frowning. The frown immediately vanished, though, when she saw who the 'intruder' was... "Daryl?" A bright smile darted over her face, as she quickly bridged the distance to hug her best friend. They hadn't seen each other in a while after all.

"Ya good?" He simply asked; definitely enjoying the embrace of the woman he got luckily stuck with since the very beginning of this shit show. "Yeah, I am. What about you? And especially Y/N?" Daryl instantly retreated from the hug; a frightening, but also happy look on his face. "W-Well, uh... S-She's in labor. 'S why I brought 'er back here... Siddiq sent me ta ask for yer help..." Carol's eyes widened, but she immediately scrambled for the kitchen to turn off the stove. "Of course, I'm coming to help! Can't miss my best friend becoming a daddy, can I?"

Daryl blinked. "Best friend? Really?" Carol ignored his sceptical question and grabbed him by the shoulders instead; turning him around and maneuvering him towards the door. There were more important things to do now than discuss that.

Siddiq's predictions had been quite on spot. About one and an half hour, quite a few painful contractions and several tiring and debilitating pushes later, you finally held your baby in your arms. Since the doctor's announcement that you gave birth to a - as far as he could tell, healthy little girl, Daryl's mind had gone blank. He was physically present, but mentally, he was somewhere lost in a haze; trying to process the life-changing information... A girl. His daughter. He was a father now. A father!

Of course, you noticed. Carol and Siddiq did, too and all of you decided to give him the space and time he needed right now; just letting him stare at the white wall across your bed.

Only once the afterbirth was done, you getting cleaned up as well as the baby, the umbilical cord cut by Carol (Daryl would've most likely fainted if he was asked to do it. He already looked as white as a ghost...), a few further instructions and information shared by both your friends, and your newborn daughter wrapped up in a diaper and a slightly too big beige romper suit with cute teddy bears on it, you decided to try to guide your husband out of the haze he still was in. Especially now that you were given some time alone...

"Daryl?" You called out softly; voice barely above a whisper to not startle him. He didn't react, so you tried again... Same result. Freeing a hand from the baby tucked against your chest, you reached out to gently touch his arm. "Babe..." You whispered; letting your palm glide down the length of the limb and brushing the clammy skin of his hand. "Hey..." That seemed to finally do the trick...

The archer blinked and redirected his glance; eyes focusing on you instead. "'M sorry, sunshine, I-" His words quickly died in his throat, when he finally saw his daughter nestled against you; greedily suckling on your exposed right breast and making the cutest little noises he had ever heard. You smiled tiredly and slipped your fingers through his; giving them a soft squeeze. "Your baby girl, Daryl... Your daughter..." He swallowed and lifted his free hand; almost hesitatingly hovering over the infant, before his pointer finger came into contact with her soft cheek.

Daryl gasped; releasing a breath he didn't even know he was holding. You watched the interaction with loving eyes; only now noticing that the small girl had stopped nursing and was wriggling around in your hold instead. Her eyes were closed and she had her legs pulled up against her belly; tiny fingers clenching and unclenching.

Your husband had cupped her head now, which was covered in a dark brown fuzz. "She's perfect, darlin'..." Daryl whispered after a long moment; smiling that smile you loved so much.

"Do you want to hold her?"

That question caused Daryl's hand to immediately stop caressing his daughter's head. "I-I..." He stammered; nervous, yet with such a strong urge. "Y-Yeah, I... I wanna hold 'er." You patted the empty space on the bed beside you. "C'mere, then." The archer followed your 'command' and switched from the chair to sit on the bed. Only now did you notice that he hadn't changed yet and that the shirt he wore was still damp. Worry roared to life within you. You didn't want him to catch a cold or even something worse...

"Baby, you should change... I don't want you to get sick..." Daryl shook his head. "Do want ta leave ya..." "I know..." You bit your lip; uncertain if you should propose the suggestion in your mind or not. "Then, uh... How about you take the shirt and vest off? Carol and Siddiq won't be here for at least another hour and skin-on-skin contact with your daughter would be good, too... Helps her bond with you." You gave him a soft smile. "It's your decision, though. I won't force you to do anything."

You could practically see the gears turning in your husband's head, but in the end he nodded and started to peel the damp clothes off his upper body. Once he was shirtless, you started to transfer the little girl over to her father. "Make sure to support her head, Dar," you instructed him; noticing his eager nod, and suddenly was the infant tucked in the crook of his arm. She snuggled against his bare chest; definitely enjoying the warmth of his skin.

And suddenly the world stopped to turn around Daryl.

He gazed down at the tiny human being he helped create - and she was the most wonderful, beautiful creature his eyes had ever seen (besides you, of course). Love flooded his veins; heart threatening to slosh over with the warm feeling.

Yes... He'd rip the world apart to keep her safe. Anything. Just to make sure his girls were protected.

You watched your husband and newborn daughter; a tired, but happy look on your face, and you realised soon, that everything had been worth it... Everything you've gone through. Every obstacle you and Daryl had to overcome, just to get here - to experience this moment. She was worth it.

You smiled. Yeah... You could definitely get used to Daryl being a dad...

Tags: @angelwings-crossbowstrings @belitoxx @lou12346789 @fictive-sl0th @marvelcasey05 @loz-3 @mischief-dream @whore4romance @stitchintimefan @bigbaldheadname @making-the-most-0f-it @erebus-et-eigengrau @km-ffluv @0-aubrie0 @sweetz1919 @mikaela-granger @secretsicanthideanymore @dilfdixon @txtttttttttttttt @dixons-sunshine @stiveroon @cakesandtom @mayday2007

[cupcakeinat0r]

Your middle-aged, loser Genetics professor who has a dad bod <3

Part 9

Wc. 7.7k

Miguel waits in his car, his gaze not fixated on anything specific; simply forward. He rests his forearm on the car door, window down. The thick hairs of his arm raise as his mind ventures, replaying the past few hours in his mind. A low hum stirs against his chest. There’s a sort of glow he emulates as he sits there idly, smizing at nothing in particular. He probably looks like a total creep with how he’s grinning in his car, alone, looking off into space. No passenger. You've sat there for the past few months, from campus to your place, and vice versa. But today, you aren’t there, yet he’s happy. His heartbeat intensifies, his stomach contracting once or twice due to unfiltered chuckles. As he waits patiently in the car, he lets it consume him, the memory of that morning, and he closes his eyes.

“Okay, what do you think?” you reach your arms out as if to present a prize, and the winner is Miguel. Miguel, who looks uncomfortable in your too-small-for-him lounge chair but shows no sign of strain on his face, fixes his glasses and observes with love-sickened eyes. After a simple, romantic breakfast at his place, he insisted on taking you back home so that you could get ready. Then after dropping you off, you figured he might as well stay so he can take you to the ceremony, too.

“Is it too much?” You give a little twirl.

His eyes scan thoroughly scan you. “Jesus… How’d I get so lucky?” The question sounds genuine, as if needing an actual answer. “You’re beautiful, mama.”

This makes you smile in return. You look to the mirror to see if Miguel is right (obviously, he is), running your hands over your pre-planned graduation outfit. Today, you receive your hard-earned Master’s Degree, and even though throughout the year you were convinced you wouldn’t be, you’re feeling more nervous than ever. “Picked it myself.” Your voice wavers just a hint. Has two years really gone by so fast? More specifically, the second year of your grad. The first one felt like eons. Maybe it’s just because you didn’t score an Adonis of a professor that year.

Miguel stands from his chair and comes from behind, his hands snaking through the gap between your arms and waist, holding you tightly against his plush exterior, “I just wish I was the one who got it for you.” and a kiss is pressed to your temple. His grasp seemed to soothe your nerves a bit, your body sinking into his natural warmth and plush. You can see his face through the mirror, the absence of doubt and judgment in his expression making you fall all over again. You really were a lucky girl. He looks at you with such reverence. And maybe a touch of arousal. Those aren’t his keys you feel on your backside.

“Oh, stop. You’ve given me more than enough, Miguel. All I need is you.” With his chin resting on the top of your head, you reach to cup his face, a picture-perfect moment displayed on the full-length mirror. He whispers into your ear, “Giving you lessons doesn’t count, that’s just my job. te voy a dar el mundo, mi Vida.”

“Right, right, and I’m guessing giving me that necklace was a part of your job description?”

You win a rich, dark chuckle from him, but he ignores you, still sprinkling kisses on your skin, his bifocals bending out of place at times. You giggle and even try to break away, but he doesn’t budge. You fight the urge to kiss back just to spite him.

“Or that skirt? Or those shoes? Or that one purse? Damn, how much does the school pay you?”

And before you can further argue, he presses more kisses onto you, almost sending both of you to topple over. “Just let me spoil you, mama.” He speaks against your jaw.

“Miguel!” the gravel chuckle of his voice continues to rumble against the side of your neck. You can’t complain and never will, but the difference between Miguel now versus the Miguel you met still leaves you baffled to this day. Or it isn’t much of a difference or change, really, but rather an unmasking. This Miguel was just stowed away until further notice; placed in the backest corner of the freezer to never see the light of day. This is the person Miguel was dying to show, he just needed the right person to coax it out of him. Now you have him attacking you with wet kisses in the middle of your living room, his hulking arms locked around you with no chance at an escape.

“Right, enough fooling around and help me into this, will you!” Reluctantly, he’ll let you move your hair for better access to the still-open zipper of your outfit.

“Fine. On one condition.”

Sigh. “Yes?”

“Un besito.”

“Oh my God.”

“Take it or leave it. Last offer. Don’t make me make it two.”

“Given there’s no one else around to zip me up, I guess I have no choice. Just my luck.” you joke, eagerly leaning your head back against his chest, granting his kiss entry to your neck, your chin, and then lastly, your lip. And then one kiss turned to multiple. If you weren’t so completely lost in his tongue and lips, you’d notice his hand rested and wrapped around your neck. The minor callouses provided a sensation that only added to the fervor of the exchange. Once y’all finally pull away, low eyes traveling in triangles, he politely requests, “Step forward for me.”

You move forward slightly so as to give him space to zip you up. But before he can do the job, he takes a second to look over the details of your back, a part of your body his hands have gotten to know very well, but his eyes haven’t gotten the same pleasure of. Miguel was very good at respecting your boundaries and wishes, which meant a lot (a lot) of making out, but nothing further than that. He notes to himself how soft it looks, the hills and curves of your spine creating a Grecian masterpiece.

And you can practically feel his eyes roam every inch of exposed skin, making you feel like art. You think to say something, but you’d rather let Miguel have this moment, and you let yourself have it, too. You’d often think about what it’d be like to see Miguel’s reaction to you. All of you. He’s made you feel nothing but like a deity for the duration of your budding, unlabeled relationship, and you’ve been fully clothed at all times. You can only imagine how he’ll act when you’re completely bare.

You know for sure he loves you. He said so. And he’s shown it to you. You’ve decided that being that vulnerable with him is something you want, it’s only a matter of when.

You start to hear the friction of the tab pulling the teeth together, one by one, that’s how slow Miguel was going. Unable to resist the urge, he stops the zipper and reaches to plant a tender kiss on the back of what’s left of your exposed neck. “I could do this every day, you know?” he admits softly, like a hymn. You turn, not completely, just so that your face is to him, “‘Everyday’? For how long?” You know the answer, kind of, but there’s still curiosity in what he’ll say. There are so many instances where you wait for Miguel to say the wrong thing; to do something that’ll break this spell, but he hasn’t. He just doesn’t have the capacity to. He’s perfect in your eyes.

“For however long you’ll have me. Which I’m really hoping is forever or else this’ll be extremely embarrassing.”

Damn, he said the right thing. People can say his stab at humor is mediocre all they want, but Miguel never ceases to make you snicker. If you opened an Oxford Dictionary to ‘adorable’, it’d have his picture.

“Who am I kidding, you could absolutely humiliate me and I’d still say ‘thank you’.”

“Oh, this’ll make some good blackmail.” you finally turn around to tauntingly wave your index finger at his amused expression.

“Oye, Final exam grades aren’t due ‘til next month, so I’d be careful if I were you.” his brow perks when he says ‘you’, and your only response is a sarcastic ‘Oooooo’ before you’re muffled by the millionth kiss of the day, but who’s counting?

“There. Secured. Anything else, princesa?”

You take a deep breath, getting in one last overall look in the mirror before facing him, “Okay, yeah, I’m ready. Just need my chauffeur.” You look over at Miguel, who looks back at you confused, then looks around knowing fully well there’s no one else except the two of you.

“Oh, yeah? Who?”

Ha ha ha. Very Funny. If expressions could talk, this is what yours would’ve said.

Miguel smiles, taking your hand to kiss the back of it, and rubs your knuckles with his thumb as an apology. “Your chariot awaits, your majesty.”

Wait, where is he going?

“Mig, stadium’s that way.” your thumb points toward the window next to you, the street that leads to the graduation growing farther and farther.

Despite that a mistake has obviously been made, Miguel looks indifferent, eyes aimed straight at the road before them with no sign of a doubt. He huffs from his nose before responding, “I know,” his thumb runs across the back of your hand, “I have something for you, though.” He takes your hand up to his lips, a smile creeping up on your features.

“At your office?”

“Accidentally left it there.”

What is he up to?

His crooked smile tells you a different story. Miguel can feel you questioning him. You can see him physically gather his words in the driver's seat.

“Remember when… we were in the library one of those first nights and we exchanged books?”

You nod. How could you forget?

“And I told you about Gabriella?”

You nod again. He’s asking obvious questions here, it’s sort of scaring you.

“That was my first time talking about her with someone. In years.” His chest and belly deflate as if releasing a weight he’s held onto, “And you’re also the first person who’s said her name out loud. Someone other than me. In a very long time.”

You listen intently, everything that has happened up until now making more sense with this piece of information. You always knew the painful fact that Miguel has been by himself mostly since starting teaching, but it stings even more knowing that he’s never opened up to anyone about this. No one to turn to. No one to be soft with. Sure, he had his friends, from what you remember him telling you about his hero, multi-dimension, whatever-it-was days, but to your understanding, they all left him alone. By means of Miguel’s requests. He wanted those days to be over completely.

“She was beginning to feel like- I don’t know. Like a figment of my imagination. Photos and videos that I rewatch and stare at every single day were starting to… go stale,” this admission makes him wince in shame, “I replay them over and over again… and nothing new. I know what happens in each and every single one of them. And it ends up hurting every single time. I didn’t know how much more I could’ve taken before stopping altogether.” His lips purse, the guilt seeping from every inch of him. “Well, at some point, I even became afraid. Terrified that I was starting to forget the little things about her, or worse, that I’d move on,”

You didn’t even notice, but the car had been parked minutes ago, it’s only when he turns his face to look at you, eyes beginning to gloss, when you realize the car had stopped.

“Until that night.” His narrow gaze softens.

“The night at the library… I told you things that I hadn’t even thought about until that night. Like, for example, how she liked to match the color of her hair ties to her shirt,” Miguel allows himself to softly beam with this memory, “or whenever I’d fall asleep on the couch, she’d always, always, place a blanket on my feet so that ‘the monsters don’t get me’,” you both giggle at this, “Like those things? They had just come back to me in that moment.”

You both had entered campus grounds and turned to his office door, and he whipped out his keys, the metal hitting against the doorknob. The halls are quiet and hollow. It feels like the end of an academic year.

“I just never thought I could possibly let those things slip.” His voice lowers, an air of disbelief in his words.

“Will you ever stop loving her?”

“Of course not. Never.”

“Then she will live on forever. You’ve proven to yourself that you’ll never let the small things leave. They’ll always come back to you.”

Miguel smiles to himself, thinking about this.

He heads toward his bookshelf, reaching for something, but you can’t see given that he himself blocks the entire view of it. “When I hear you say her name,” you see his head bow down at something in his hand, “You sound so… lively... If that makes sense? Like… as if she were still here, as if you knew her. It meant a lot to me. Even in the way you talked about her. Maybe it explains why I was able to recall so much.”

He turns around to you, and you can only make out something small in his hand; something blue?

“I figured that, if she were still here, she’d want you to have this.”

He unfurls his hand and out blossoms a satin blue ribbon formed in a rosette; the words ‘first place’ are displayed in the center. “Wear it today?” He stands before you, the dwarfed ribbon sitting in his hand. His request sounds more like a plea.

“Her teammates gave it to her when she scored their winning goal. She was so happy. It was her last game before she-” Both gazes leave the ribbon and land on each other, glossed and daring to well.

He clears his throat, “She used to- used to show it off any chance she could,” His eyes well up, but regardless of presuming tears, he looks down at the ribbon with a soft smile.

“Miguel,” Your head slowly shakes from side to side, “I can’t.”

“Yes you can,” he persists, “Take it, it’s yours.” He insists through choked words. He places the ribbon in your hand, folding your fingers in, hoping that you’ll accept his gift.

Here stands a man you’ve been falling so hard for for the past year, who is not only giving you a piece of his late daughter’s life, but insisting you take it. You haven’t been around enough to know what love is, but with what Miguel is doing right now, you’re starting to think maybe this is what it might look like. When you started seeing Miguel, who was your professor, you didn’t think all those thoughts of him being yours would ever have come true. You knew it was silly, childish, and most importantly, out of the question. Yet here he is, giving you a piece of himself. This isn’t casual anymore. So he did really mean those three sacred words said last night and this morning.

After letting the ribbon sit there for just seconds but what feels like minutes, you take his hand back, but the ribbon is now pressed between you and Miguel’s palms. You give it a tight squeeze, taking in a deep breath. “It’s ours.”

You look up at him, a trail of a tear down your cheek. “Because I’m yours, if you’ll have me,” a bright smile grows behind your wet eyes. “And I’m really hoping it’s forever, or else this’ll be extremely embarrassing.” You actually laugh, and so does he, pooling eyes and all.

“You’re stuck with me. I love you.”

With those words, it was like the past five years of being alone became all worth it. All the lonely nights, all the predictive mornings, and the dune of a civilian life he was leading came crashing down on him because he knew a new one was dawning. Still civilian, but now, he has someone to put all the love he has to offer into. All his fears, all his insecurities, it all dissolved. The label of your relationship was blurry, uncertain if this was the kind of thing you entertained for only a bit and never spoke of again or something worthwhile. If last night wasn’t a confirmation of the answer, then this moment was, marking it as the official beginning of a romantic, exclusive, official relationship.

“I love you. I love you. Te amo. Te quiero. I love you. I love you… I love you…” his soft declarations are muffled in kisses on any spot he could get to. All those fantasies he’s conjured in his mind where you two live together, share a life, make a life… or two… or three… or however many you’re willing to carry, he doesn’t care, all of those scenarios now seem like promises. Like a nearby reality. Solitary nights dreaming about you in ways that leave him hot and bothered will finally come to an end. On a more suggestive note, He’ll finally be able to get through class without raging hard-ons again.

“I love you.” You manage to breathe out between kisses. Arms wrap around the back, hands wrap around the neck, fingers rake through tussles of hair, and legs begin to lose balance and find their way to the edge of Miguel’s desk. Visions become blurred, ears begin to grow hot, and heart rates quicken with beats large enough to feel on each other’s chests. You two are much too deep in it that you don’t hear the creaking of the wood underneath you. “Yes. Please.” Miguel hears your whisper, moving his head to look you in the eye. “You mean…?” He asks gently, to which you nod, repeating your plea. Without much thinking, Miguel taps your thigh. This was it. Miguel didn’t hear you say the exact words, but he knew. He knew what you were saying yes to. You, much less thinking, instinctively raise your leg, allowing Miguel to prop you onto the desk. “I love you. So much, it’s crazy, Miguel. God, I wanna spend the rest of my life with you.” You mewl in his ear, and in return, Miguel, with softly knitted brows, lets out a pathetic groan. Miguel may be quiet in everyday life, but when it came to the two of you, alone, he wasn’t afraid of being vocal about what he liked, and right now, with what you’re saying plus your legs wrapping securely around his waist seemed to have both an audible and physical effect on him. A big physical effect.

Is this the right spot to do this right now? Couldn’t y’all get in trouble? Was this even a good time?

These are questions that a sane person would probably think of, but with the current circumstances, you simply couldn’t give a damn, let alone Miguel. Even if you tried, you don’t think you would’ve even had enough brain wattage to string a single thought with Miguel touching you like this. However, if you had the luxury of logic, you’d know that:

1. Getting in trouble isn’t of concern since faculty are either at home starting the Summer they’ve been so impatiently waiting for, and students are at home doing the same or at the stadium.

2. Given that the ceremony won’t start until another 2 hours from now, it’ll give you both plenty of time. The traffic would’ve been dreadful anyway, so might as well just show up at the last minute.

3. What better place than here… where you two met.

You breathe heavily along with Miguel, “Remember… the first meeting… I sat right in front of this desk,” Miguel makes an effort to listen, but he’s currently too occupied with straining his hard-on against your heat, “Mm-oh…now look at us.” your breathless voice and coquettish smirk goes straight to Miguel’s cock, the feeling of his pants shrinking in size making him hot all over. Trapping your lips between his over and over again. You're pretty much without oxygen at this point, but you don’t care, it feels amazing. His teeth on your lips, his hands squeezing the flesh of your ass deeper against his length. Your fingers tugged onto his now disheveled curls and he whined. He whined.

“Mama, you don’t wanna know how many times I’ve imagined this moment. Fuck, am I dreaming again?” His words hit your skin like the thick air after a calm rain.

You cup his face in your hands, pulling him from your neck, and you’re met with a lust-drunken, devoted worshipper; a big man that’s been stricken of sex for far too long. In doing so, you notice the ribbon still in your hand, which knocks a bit of sobriety back into you. It’s almost like Miguel read your mind because the same alarm goes off in his head. With that, the two of you are quick to mend one tiny problem.

Miguel, still between your legs, reaches over to lower any pictures he has of Gabriella, faced down on the shelf. As for you, you stash the ribbon safely in a drawer right behind you. Gabriella shouldn’t be present for this.

Capturing you in a kiss again, your hand ends up untucking his shirt, resting on his stomach, your fingers caressing his skin. He huffs, slightly tickled by your soft touch along his belly. The corner of his lip curves into a dorky smirk as you sneak your hand into the waistband of his slacks and boxers, pushing past his dark happy trail. “Oh fuck. Haven’t been touched like this in so long,” The clank of his belt buckle rings in your ears, making you pulsate, “I need you. So fucking badly.”

“Keep talking. Please.” You murmur, unbuttoning his shirt, unveiling a plethora of chest hair covering a body fit to raise your future children.

“So lonely, honey… miss you every night when I come home. Miss you so much in the mornings, it hurts.”

Once his shirt is on the floor, with hands and eyes, you revel in all his glory: six feet and nine inches of caramel deliciousness, coated in equal parts of muscle and fluff. You could come undone just from this sight.

His hand holds your chin with a soft caress of his thumb, “I used to look a lot better back then. I’ll work on it.”

You pull him down by his neck to eye level in protest. “Don’t you dare change a single thing on this body. You’re perfect. You’re beautiful. Finest man I’ve ever laid eyes on.” Oh, that made his dick twitch. Your free hand wraps around his broad shoulders while the other is in his hair, smashing faces. Miguel, with no hesitation, swipes everything off the desk and instantly pushes you onto your back, his soft husky exterior pressing you against the cold wood. Tongues are down throats. He stutters as his dick twitches, “Tell me I can eat you out.” The question and tone of voice alone make your back arch. You kiss even deeper, tongues intertwining as he moans in your mouth.

“God, yes, please, Mig, please-”

He gives a vicious squeeze to your ass, reminding you of his pure strength, “That’s not what I want. Usa tus palabras, mamita.” Your begging makes his cock ache, but he needs to hear the words. He needs to know you want this as much as he does. He needs your permission.

Your top lip curls before you speak again through hooded eyes, “Professor,” the name catches him off guard, “please… fuck me with your mouth.”

You were playing a dangerous game. Before you was a sexually deprived middle-aged man who’d been silently pining for you since day one, and you were begging him to treat your cunt like a 5-star meal. Having a gorgeous girl like you pleading for him to tongue fuck you like you deserved, it was driving him crazy. He wasted no time going down to the most sacred corner of this divine body.

“Funny… I zipped this up not even half an hour ago.”

“Hey, hey, careful, I still have a ceremony to wear this to.”

You had a point. And as if you were a gift, he bunches the fabric high enough to reveal some panties he’d recently given you. If it wasn’t for him wanting to last for both hours until the ceremony, he would’ve came right then and there. He looks at you with darkened eyes, a gaze intense enough to strip the cockiness from you, your cheeks growing hot from the act, “What? I assumed this was gonna happen later-”

Miguel cuts your sentence short with a French kiss to your clit through the thin lace, the combination of his nose, tongue, and breath on your heat making your thighs shake. “ So wet… you always this wet during class? Fuck.” With how Miguel was moaning and groaning against your sensitive skin, you’d assume he got more pleasure in giving you head than you did receiving it. Your hand darts for his scalp, the other holding onto the edge of the desk for dear life once he hooks the panty with his finger to move it out of the way, pursuing even more thirstily now. The wood creaks with each buck of your hips, but with the way Miguel’s arms hold your weight on his wide shoulders effortlessly, it doesn’t phase you. Breathless prayers of his name left your lips, panting softly as your head fell back against the table. You can feel the bundle in your core form as your whimpers turn to wails.

“Mig, s’good, feels so good. I’m close, pleasepleaseplease-”

Meanwhile, his eyes were practically to the back of his head, hips pathetically bucking to the matching rhythm of your hips as he took turns treating your clit like a lollipop and your entrance like a fleshlight. “M’gonna- aw fuck… voy a cuidarte, mamita, don’t you worry your pretty little head.” you hear through a whine before his tongue is back at it again. His hands take turns squeezing your thighs tighter around his head and occasionally using his forefingers to stimulate your sensitive bud. His glasses start to fog, and his eyes are covered by humid lenses. This was starting to obscure his perfect view of you and your euphoric expressions, and he just couldn’t have that. So, he pulled away for only a millisecond just to basically rip them off and he was right back to devouring your weeping cunt. There’s no way he was missing this.

You’re choked whines signify the peak, your body trembling uncontrollably. This will be the first of many, and he’s only getting started. When the man promises to take care of you, he’s gonna take care of you.

He spends the remainder of your climax lovingly rubbing his fingers up and down your pussy, making sure you ride it out all the way to the very end.

“Good, baby? You okay?” he purs back into your ear, tenderly caressing your thighs and planting gentle kisses of reassurance on your face. You nod with half-lidded eyes, catching your breath before replying ‘yes’.

“Tell me what you want, mama.”

“Fuck me, professor. Please?”

“Say that again.”

You look at him above you, your legs pulling his waist closer so that his aching length meets your pulsing core, “Please, I want you to fuck me, professor.” Whilst maintaining eye contact, Miguel reaches down to put your hand on the bulge. “Look what you do to me.” Your theory of his size is confirmed.

“This what you wanted?”

“Need it.”

“C’mere.”

Miguel sits you up, telling you to relax since ‘he’ll do all the work’. He carries you to his office couch. He plops onto the cushions with you straddled on his lap. While he has your tongue entwined with his, he releases his cock from the restraints of his boxers, the base erects against his lower belly. Not wanting to waste another second, although the view of it was mesmerizing, you sit up on your knees to line yourself up with him, but Miguel sits you back down, “No hay prisa, mamita, need to get you ready, but first,” His hand snakes to the back of the zipper, and the dress unveils, “Need to see all of you, beautiful.” you seem to knock the air out of him as he lets his hands explore you, your breasts the perfect hand full. “You’re so fucking hot.” He even looks up for a moment and thanks God for blessing him with someone like you, making you look down at the endearing gesture.

Your body goes limp once he laps at your chest, sucking and pulling like it was his first meal in ages. The feeling of his tongue circulating your hardened buds made you clench around nothing. He has you in a bear hug, front sides pressed against each other. The small room seems to disappear around the two of you, totally forgetting where you are, in both space and time. It’s just you, Miguel, and the beautiful sounds of pure, raw pleasure.

“Mig, wanna make you feel good, too.”

Miguel unwillingly pulls away, only half-hearing what you said, and not given even a chance to process. You’ve already positioned yourself on your hands and knees next to him on the couch. Kitten licks and tender sucks to the tip send Miguel’s head falling against the back of the couch. You know he’s needing more when his hips buck upward, and you’re more than willing to give it to him. Occasionally, you’d rest your head against his stomach chub to give him a few rewarding strokes, admiring his size, just to let it sink back into your hollowed mouth. You managed to get Miguel growling, hoarse moans spilling from his bitten lips as you tend to his stiffened cock that you’ve daydreamed of tasting.

“Baby, please, slow down, not gonna last long.” But it was no use. You were relentless on his aching manhood. The only way to get you to go easy on him was to reach over your ass and pump his fingers into you, so that’s exactly what he did. You whine with his tip in the back of your throat, but you’re able to still keep him in. To Miguel’s hopes, you do slow down, the mutual pleasure putting both of you in sync.

“Let’s come together, mamita, hm? Can I put another one in, baby?”

He takes your eye contact as a cue to put in a third, thick finger, eliciting a high-pitched moan against his veiny shaft. Having both ends of you completely filled was, in all honesty, a bit overwhelming, but it’s the best feeling you’ve ever felt. There’s no one else you would’ve rathered have you like this than your Mig.

His fingers get faster, and your strength to keep his cock inside is dwindling, but for him, you try, nonetheless.

“That’s it, mamita, that’s it…” His fingers are unbelievably fast at the point, droplets sent flying and falling onto the fabric of the couch. That’s something he’ll worry about later, but right now, his goal was to get you absolutely fucked out and coming all over his hand. Unable to hold it anymore, you free him from your mouth, letting yourself cry and whine freely as he finger fucks your second orgasm out of you. Still determined to have him come with you, you pump him with your hand as you ride off your high on his hand. Miguel wants to praise you, but his panting and mewling get in the way. You had this gentle giant making what would be considered embarrassing noises, but symphonic music to your ears. At the first sign of his juices, you place him back into your mouth, but this time, he holds your hair and fucks up into your mouth in short, fast, desperate thrusts until he’s finished.

You don’t even let him have a moment to breathe once you start kissing up his happy trail and to his stomach; what once was a pack of abs has given way to pudge. You kiss a little higher, giving his pec a gentle lick where it’s most sensitive, making him sharply inhale as a result. They proceed to the valley of his pecs, up his neck, to his jaw, and cheek. If Miguel still had doubts in the back of his mind about your love for his body, they’ve vanished now.

Your lips meet now, and various soft ‘I love you’s’ are exchanged.

“Just want you to sit back n’ relax now, mami. Wanna see that gorgeous face,” Holding onto your head and lower back, he carefully lays you on the couch, “Can I?” The gentle dominance this man radiated was good enough to make you already contemplate marriage. The expression on his face reflected utter devotion and praise. You thought his kind were only written in books.

“Of course, professor. Gotta repay you for all those private sessions.” Even after two orgasms, you still had to keep the cliche going. Miguel was unable to help a small chuckle. He had no problem playing right along, though. “You made it so hard to focus in class, you know that?” His voice is dark and low, a stark contrast to the noises he was making just a minute ago. He speaks while spreading your legs like precious artifacts, lining himself up. Finally.

“Sitting there all gorgeous n’ smart. Drove me insane.” He whispers into your ear, his leaking tip making a connection to your entrance. “And then having the audacity to help your classmates? How dare you have a heart just as beautiful.” He kisses you while sliding inside, muffling your gasp.

He tuts against your mouth, “Yo se, bebita, me too…mmnnshit,” His hand caresses your hair in an effort to soothe at least some tension, “I’ll go slow, mama, m’kay? Gonna take care of y- oh fuck,” His forehead presses against yours, his free hand holding onto yours as he slowly slides in and out, gauging how deep you can take him. The stretch induces a euphoric pain, causing you to squeeze his hand, but he squeezes right back, your cunt sucking him in all too well.

Miguel starts to go stupid once he’s halfway in. The sensation has him beginning to babble, choked words coming out in a gentle lull.“Que rico…Feel good, mamita? It’s okay mama, let me hear you. Please, let me hear you.” He talks delicately as he continues to go in and slowly draw out with only half of himself, just to be sure you're warmed up enough for all of him. Your eyes are closed, trying to focus on breathing, but it only makes it more difficult. It worries Miguel. “Too much, baby? I’ll stop.” And just as he’s about to pull out, you use your other hand that was clinging onto the arm of the chair to stop him, “Nonono, please,” He lowers himself, still connected, “Need you, Mig. Please, keep going, don’t stop.” You beg, the undeniable need in your voice making Miguel go weak. He puts all his weight on you, cautiously going all the way inside. When he gets as deep as he possibly can, his tip kissing you right in the perfect spot, he pecks your forehead before telling you, “You look so pretty taking it, beba.”

Miguel’s words are slurred as he begins fucking you, thick fingers playing at your clit as he does. He can’t help but prop himself on his elbow just to get a look of himself going in and out of you, the slick sounds and what looks like a bulge of his cock sending him into insanity, driving him to go desperately faster. He gets lost in the way every time he pumps in, he creates a hill in your stomach. You look down, too, seeing what he’s seeing, and it only makes his name fall from your mouth embarrassingly loud, as well as telling him how good he feels and how much you love him, every syllable coming out with pure verity.

Not now since you’re too busy getting amazingly fucked, but later on, you’ll surely think about how good of stamina Miguel has for his age. He should’ve been tired by now, but the man was rutting and there was no sign of him slowing down anytime soon. When his mouth wasn’t latched onto yours, he’d speak nonsense to you. He’d let out long, exasperated ‘Yes’s’ into your ear, unafraid to let his unfiltered noises fill the room. When he knew he was being too rough, he’d slow his thrusts until he was dragging his dick in and out of you, pumping ever so slowly and lovingly. It was then he’d be able to coherently form sweet words of nothings, “I’m obsessed with you. Wanna keep you like this forever.”

Whether he was going rabid or making sweet love, Miguel still made sure to hold your hand through it all.

He can feel himself coming soon. As if he needed to be deeper into you, he only stops for a nanosecond to bring your knees over you, pressing you even deeper into the couch, so as to better ram your already abused pussy. Your panting heightens in pitch. “Right there, sweetheart? Aww Fuck, there it is.” His big, strong hands hold your knees in place where they frame your head. Your bodies are sweaty, only enhancing the lewd sounds of his hips smacking your ass with each thrust. When your pussy flutters around him, it makes his eyes roll back. He’s already made you orgasm twice by now, getting his juices all over you, but he needs more. “I can’t stop.” He stammers through a slack jaw.

“Mig…dunno if I c-can… going-”

He slows down his rhythm, hands cupping your face to make eye contact, “Baby, please, gimme one more, just one more. Promise.”

With a nod of your head, he buries you in his arms, his face in your neck, body on body, leaving no space between you, and he rams into you like no tomorrow, luring one last orgasm from you. The way the curve of his belly and muscles rubbed against you was the icing on the cake. You feel Miguel getting closer with the way he moans into the crook of your neck. You are, too.

The dam breaks loose with an outcry of his name, to which Miguel lifts his head to kiss your tears as you peak, his own following right behind. Once it starts to descend, a rain of butterfly kisses fall on your face, “I’ve got you, sweetie,” he coos, “I love you so much… mamita,” he gently calls to get your attention, “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

You at least accomplish a weak smile, requiting the love with a kiss to his swollen lips.

There was no need to rush, so the two of you just lay there, embracing each other.

“Miguel,”

“Hm?” He hums against your skin.

“I feel like I’m in a fairytale.”

“Me too.”

6:49 PM.

You don’t know how, but in one hour, Miguel and you were able to go back to your place, shower (separately. You two knew a joint shower would’ve most definitely led to other things.), redo your makeup, fix your and Miguel’s hair, and leave to the stadium with moderate traffic. You look in the passenger seat mirror for the last touch-ups.

“Praying I don’t trip on that stage. If I do, it’s your fault.”

“I’ll happily take the blame.” He gives your thigh a small squeeze, in which you glare at him in return. The shit-eating grin on his face still made you smile, though.

You sit in your assigned seat among a sea of students, dawning the traditional cap and gown, with numerous achieved stoles and ropes around your neck, but only one stands out from them all, and one that you consider your best achievement: Gabriella’s Blue Ribbon.

You look down at it, giving it a little tug to straighten it out. You look up to search for Miguel in the enormous mass of seats, but it isn’t too hard. All you had to do was find the freakishly tall man with glasses, and when you do, you smile at him. As subtly as possible, he mouths ‘I love you’, and you do it back. You think to blow him a kiss, but given the situation, you also think it better not to in public. You still don’t have that degree in your hand, and you can’t risk anything, especially not when you’re so close. But trust, the second that piece of paper is in your hand, Miguel is all yours, no shame attached.

You’re on the edge of your seat the entirety of waiting for your name to be called, and once it is, you feel you could cry. You walk across the stage, a sense of accomplishment and fulfillment filling you to the brim. Miguel watches on, a prideful expression on his face. You shake hands with a few faculty members, some you grew to love and will cherish, some you secretly wished would accidentally fall through a manhole, before you get to the dean, who currently holds your degree in their hand. You’re congratulated once it’s in your hand, the feeling of two very difficult years weighing down on your hand. It feels good. Smiling ear-to-ear, you look out into the audience as you walk across, degree facing outward for the whole stadium to see because one thing for sure is that everyone in the establishment will know that you did that. Your smile shines like a thousand stars, at least to Miguel. His heart could explode with how much love and awe he feels for you. Heaven knows he tried to make a new life for himself by putting the Spider-Man title to rest, and though he was successful, he was still missing a piece of himself. In this moment, he’s thanking you for taking a chance on him; for letting a different man, a happy man, come out for a while, and hopefully, for the rest of his life.

And that’s where he sits now, in the car, waiting for you in the parking lot. Prior to the ceremony, it was agreed that Miguel would slip away just a couple of minutes early (basically skip the dean’s farewell speech) so that you and Miguel could beat the crowds and go celebrate wherever he had planned for you. Hoards of crying mothers and cheering students catch his attention. It must’ve ended. It only takes a moment for him to pick you out from the crowd, immediately exiting the car to open the passenger door for you.

“Congratulations, mi vida.” He calls out, leaning against the car.

Elated, you crash into him, arms around his neck, legs lifted in the air, and you kiss him. You pull away with a joyous mwah.

You both retreat into the car. “You helped, my cute lil geneticist.” Giddiness beams from your voice. You reach over the center console to cup his chin and squeeze it, puckering his lips to kiss him again and again. This makes him chuckle. He may be older and bigger in every sense of the word, but at the end of the day, he is and always will be your dork. Your teddy bear.

“I just taught you a few formulas. This was all you, mama,” he starts the car but glances at you for a second. “What?” You tilt your head.

“I wanna thank you.”

“For what?” Every time Miguel opens his mouth, you’re reminded of what a lottery win you’ve made. You grab his hand to hold it up to your heart; the same spot where Gabriella’s ribbon is pinned.

“For loving me. The way you do.”

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For letting me.”

His brows furrowed, his lips curled into a soft smile. He notices the blue ribbon. He caresses one of its tails, and a few of his heartstrings pull at the sight. He knows that if Gabriella were there, she would’ve been the loudest in the stands. “Wish she could’ve been here.”

You press his hand against your heart.

“She is.”

Miguel has told you so much about her that at this point, she feels like yours, and you feel that she’s there. You know with your whole heart that she is.

You both share one more tender kiss before Miguel pulls out of the lot.

“Well, it’s official. I am no longer your student. How do you feel about that?” you smirk, relaxed in your assigned seat; your rightful throne as passenger princess.

“Speaking of which, I hope you know that that degree is for decoration purposes from this day forward.”

You roll your eyes, “You’re quite the comedian today, huh?”

“You think I’m kidding? I want you home 24/7, you hear me? In the kitchen, an apron and all. I’m dead serious.” The sarcastic tone in his voice sends you chuckling through the nose.

“I’ll stay home and be your housewife if you give me a perfect score, how about that?”

“Deal.”

“Ok, no, but seriously, baby, please score my paper accurately.”

“Of course, beba. Just jokes. I’m kidding about the staying-home thing, too. You can do whatever you want,” He looks over at you at a red light, “Just as long as you always come back home to me.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

You two snuggle in Miguel’s bed after a nice dinner celebrating you. The sheets are warm and soft, but it doesn’t compare to the warmth and softness of Miguel’s body on yours; skin to skin. You’re both entangled and nude, having just had another (or a few) rounds of passionate love. Sleep looms over both you and Miguel, a little heavier on you. You’re quickly learning that Miguel does not have the endurance of an average man.

Knowing how much you loved his speaking voice, he decided to finish and read aloud to you Pride and Prejudice, a book you recommended to him and has become a new favorite of his. A king of aftercare. How more perfect can he be?

Miguel, seeing your eyes grow heavy, kisses your temple and smiles before starting again, “ ‘I love you. You have bewitched me, mind, body, and soul. And wish from this day forth never to be parted from you.’” He recites the notorious line written by Austen, but not for the sake of reading aloud anymore, no. This line was directed to you. And only for you.

“And I love you.” You whisper back.

And for the first time in much more than just 5 years, Miguel didn’t have to go to bed alone. And he won’t have to ever again.

Miguel hasn’t thought about the canon theory in a very, very long time, but a fleeting thought went through his mind before drifting away:

If going through everything that he had to, may it be the day his genetic makeup was altered, the spider-verse, Gabriella, trading in the suit for a life of solitude, everything; Despite the pain, if it all had to happen in order to have met you.

Then it’ll all have been worth it.

<3 Tags <3

@mukeovernetflix @mochikisses @miguels-cock-piercings @miranexx @bunnibitez @deepdiveintothedeephive @faretheeoscar @sillygardeneggperson @librababe99 @sariespi @little-lovelace @monstersimp @oharasfilipinawife @obi-mom-kenobi @hyjionie @maomaimao @pomakori @pinkhelados @mochimoqa @princesatracionera @queerponcho @walmaerts @froggygal @yaysposts @koko-1025 @kikaaauu @lauraolar14 @anotherprettyprincess @kaidxra @farrowroyale @pigeonmama @exactlyyoungchaos @fayeofthenightingale @s4dow @safixiovi

@hartsucks @amberbalcom14 @wait2nourh @tatooieve @helen-j-magnus @cl3stevu

@mintssanctuary @ghost-lantern @snails-doodles22 @tinythebunni @shaquilles-0atmeal @nina-from-317 @exoticb-utters @sugurusyndrome @aphinthestars

A/N: Fav chapter I've ever written. It was made with love <3 Really hoped you guys enjoyed it <3 n thnx sm for sticking around even if I made y'all wait so long 😭 love youuuuuuuu‼️ MWAH!!!

[dixons-sunshine]

Hope | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Summary: Daryl never would’ve expected that the universe would grant him you, the love of his life, much less a child of his own to love and care for. So when your daughter was born, Daryl felt truly overwhelmed. However, it happened to be one of the best days of his life.

Genre: Fluff.

Era: Alexandria, post Saviour arc.

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of childbirth, insecurities.

Word count: 1.2k.

A/N: This was supposed to be a drabble but it got longer than I expected lol. I hope y’all like this!

Daryl was in complete awe. His heart was pounding out of his chest. His palms were extremely sweaty. For the first time in his life, he didn’t know what to say or do other than stand motionless and stare. Daryl was a quiet guy, but never before in his life had something rendered him completely speechless quite like this momentous occasion; the birth of his daughter.

It had been a good thirty, maybe forty minutes since the cries of his newborn baby flooded his ears, and he hadn’t been able to say or do anything except look at her and try to wrap his mind around the fact that he was a dad, that he had a daughter now. His baby girl. He was feeling overwhelmed by everything. He had read every pregnancy and parenting book he could get his hands on since you had told him you were pregnant, yet none of them could have ever prepared him for the actual experience. None of them could prepare him for the wave of emotions that flooded through his being when his daughter’s first cries filled the air. None of them could prepare him for the absolute certainty that filled him—he would kill anyone who’d dare hurt his baby girl.

“Dar? You still with me?”

The sound of your angelic voice snapped him from his train of thought. “Hm?” he hummed in acknowledgement, forcing himself to pay attention to his surroundings. He was sitting on a chair beside the bed in your home, courtesy of Carol’s kindness. She had taken one look at the archer during your labouring process and had cleverly noticed that he would faint if he didn’t sit down. Thankfully, the crossbow-wielding archer had stayed lucid during the birth, although he was certain that the bones in his hand were cracked from the force you had bestowed on them while you were pushing.

You chuckled fondly as you looked at him through tired, half lidded eyes. “You okay?” you asked him, wincing slightly when you shifted slightly to get more comfortable, the effects of the birth making themselves known to you. Your daughter was busy nursing, her adorable, eager, breathy suckles and gulps the only other sound that could be heard throughout the otherwise quiet room. Carol and Siddiq had left the room ten minutes prior, leaving you and Daryl alone to bond with your new baby.

Daryl cleared his throat and leaned forward in his chair, giving you his full attention. “M’pretty sure I should be askin’ ya that. Yer the one that pushed a baby out, not me.”

You chuckled again and nodded. “Yeah, I was. And I’m okay. I’m sore, but that was a given. Nothing we could’ve done to prevent the pain.” Your smile dropped a little, your eyebrows furrowing slightly as you looked at your husband. “But seriously, are you okay? You seem a little... out of it.”

Daryl let out a small sigh. “M’jus’ a touch overwhelmed, I s’pose, but it ain’t nothin’ I can’t get over. S’jus’... Hearin’ her cries, and seein’ her... I don’ know. It made me realize that it wasn’t a dream. That this is real. That we’re really doin’ this, startin’ a family. S’a bit surreal to me, I guess. ‘Fore all’a this, ‘fore I met ya, when I was jus’ bummin’ it out with my brother, I never would’ve thought that I’d be doin’ this.”

You intently listened to his words, a small, understanding smile gracing your tired features. “Are you scared?”

“Ya kiddin’? M’fuckin’ terrified. I don’ wanna screw it up. I don’ wanna fail either’a ya. If I do... I don’ know what I’d do with myself,” Daryl confessed in a low whisper, his voice cracking towards the end.

Your heart went out for your partner. You were well aware of his fears. You were also well aware of the fact that no amount of reassuring would make his fears go away overnight. However, what you did know was that there was something you could do that could potentially make him feel better at that moment.

“Do you wanna hold her?” you asked him softly, your eyes locking onto his cerulean eyes.

Yes. Daryl definitely wanted to hold her. However, as his eyes trailed down to the small, fragile being that had seemingly had enough to eat and instead opted to slightly wiggle around in your embrace, a new set of worry overcame him.

“Yer sure?” he asked unsurely. “I ain’t gon’ break her or nothin’?”

A light laugh escaped your chest. “I promise you’re not going to break her. You’ll be fine, I promise. Come here. And maybe unbutton your shirt, if you’re comfortable.” Daryl furrowed his eyebrows at that last part, but understood when you explained it to him. “Skin to skin contact helps with bonding. At least, that’s what Carol told me. You don’t have to unbutton your shirt all the way. Just a bit is fine.”

“What ‘bout...” Daryl trailed off, vaguely motioning to his chest. He didn’t need to specify what he was talking about. You instantly knew. His scars.

You sent him a reassuring smile. “She’ll love you regardless, Dar, just like me. Nothing’s gonna change that. You have absolutely nothing to worry about.”

Daryl hesitated but ultimately stood up from the chair, slowly unbuttoning his shirt to a little over halfway, moving to sit next to you on the bed. “Remember to support her head.” Daryl nodded and slowly and gently accepted the baby into his embrace, heeding your advice and supporting her tiny head.

Daryl’s awe multiplied by one hundred when he held his baby girl in his arms for the first time. Her tiny head was practically the same size as his hand. Her tiny body lightly pressed against his scarred flesh as Daryl held her, and the archer couldn’t help the small laugh of wonder that escaped him. “She’s so small... She’s so damn small.” One of his fingers lightly traced over her tiny hand, and Daryl smiled when she lightly gripped his finger in her small fist. “She’s got quite the grip, too, and she ain’t even a day old yet. Real strong for her age, I reckon.”

“Definitely,” you agreed with a smile, slowly shifting your body to rest your chin on his shoulder, one of your hands coming up to softly trace over your daughter’s cheek. “She’s so perfect.”

“Jus’ like her mama.” Daryl turned his attention to you, placing a soft, tender kiss on your forehead.

You didn’t argue with his words, instead simply accepting the compliment with a small smile. The two of you fell into a comfortable silence after that, simply observing your little girl as she slowly fell asleep in her father’s arms. However, Daryl soon broke the silence again.

“Hope.”

You lifted your chin from his shoulder to meet his gaze, your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “What?”

“Her name,” he began to explain. “I think we should call her Hope. S’what I feel when I look at her. Jus’ feels right.”

You smiled at him, before turning your attention back to your daughter. “Welcome to the world, Hope Dixon. I love you so much,” you whispered to her softly, quietly acknowledging Daryl’s choice of a name. Hope. It was perfect.

Daryl sent you a small smile. “S’got a nice ring to it. Hope Dixon.”

“It’s perfect,” you agreed with a smile. “I love you, Daryl.”

“Nah, I definitely love ya more, Sunshine. I love ya so much.”

[corvidcrossbow]

I crave the kinda mornings with Daryl where you're both mostly asleep, locked in that dazy trance you tend to have after waking up just enough to be conscious, enough you can mildly function, but you still feel so hazy, but you need each other.

It'd already be pretty late in the morning. Neither of you had any reason to get up, and didn't want to: your bed was just so warm and comfortable, especially with Daryl spooned around you from behind, his strong arm draped over your waist and holding you to him.

He'd start to grind himself up against your clothed behind, lightly groaning a little against the back of your neck.

“Dar…” You exhale softly, eyes still closed. You bring your hand up to trace patterns on the forearm he has you secured in. You arch your back just the slightest bit, pressing him further into you, feeling how his dick starts to harden.

“Pleas’...” He grumbles sleepily, and you know exactly what he's asking for. You reach your arm down to push your pajama pants and whatever underwear you have on, maybe none, down to your upper thighs, blanket still draped over part of your body.

You help him to do the same, weakly tugging at his pants and such, too lazy to put actual effort into doing so, again just enough so that his cock was out. Daryl nudges his knee forward, pushing against your top leg to shift your position and angle your hips up, spreading you a little wider.

He rubs himself up against your soft asscheeks, mumbling incoherently into your skin and hair. He's just slowly humping you, enjoying just how smooth you feel against him – the silkiest, most addictive texture he's ever known.

He says something with a little more structure to it, but again, it's mostly unintelligible. Yet you know him so well you don't need actual real words to communicate. So you reach back, lifting your leg some and helping guide him to you, gathering some spit in your palm and running it down the shaft before he eases into you with another groan.

You let out a drawn out moan, relaxing back into the bed now that you're situated and don't have to do anything more. Daryl readjusts his hips then continues his rocking motion, going deeper into his humps as he now slicks in and out of you each time.

He snakes his other arm under your torso, hand finding its way between your legs to start and touch you too. You layer your arm over the one he has you wrapped in, slightly gripping at it.

“Mmm… baby…” You mumble, needing to recalibrate the pattern of your breathing. You arch further, pushing him deeper and bringing your upper back flush against his chest. He grunts in response, moving a little faster, but never going ‘quick’. He didn't want to rouse enough to lose this fuzzy, sleepy state.

His breath would grow heavy and ragged, pressing his forehead into your shoulder blade. You sway to meet him, helping keep the rhythm when he wavers a little, and the bedsprings whine some from the slow movements.

He keeps that arm around you the whole time, holding you against him, tighter as your body tenses and trembles and you cum, grunting as he feels your walls tighten up like they're begging him to finish too. He rolls you the smallest bit, using his body weight to push as deep inside you as he can and fill you, shoving his knee to spread your legs further apart. He tries to watch himself, but his forehead just falls to your spine.

You gasp a little, that familiar warmth spreading through you. He rolls back, removing his hand from your pelvis, but staying inside you as he softens. He presses messy kisses over your shoulders, back and the nape of your neck.

“Love ya, sunshine,” Daryl whispers, tucking his head back into the crook and cuddling close to you.

“Love you too, angel,” You reply, leaning into him. The two of you would stay like that, lazy and just drifting back to sleep, ignoring the obvious morning and daylight that peers through the blinds. You wouldn't trade this for anything.

Who needs warm cups of tea or coffee in the morning when you have warm creampies ♡

[juniperdugong]

Super Weird - Vernon

WC: 867 || Genre: Fluff || CW: Suggested bullying (?)/ reader being an outcast || Vernon x GN!reader (established relationship)

A/N: For all my weirdos because I'm a weirdo and Vernon is too, ain't no denying it, just a buncha freaks in masks huh?

"Do you think I'm weird?"

Vernon looks at you, eyes squinting in confusion and his expression shifting into a scowl seeing that you're completely serious, "Whaf dar haw ah yo tarking abo-?" (What the hell are you talking about?)

His mouth is filled with the last and biggest spoonful of food that you knew you couldn't finish so - as the routine goes - you gave it to Vernon. He furiously chews at a pace that you know probably isn't safe and with a large and rather painful-looking gulp his mouth is free of obstructions. "What did you just say?" his tone sounds more lightly confused but his face gives quiet anger more than anything.

"Hansol you heard me. Do you think I'm weird?" You speak very monotonously, a trait the two of you shared.

"Of course you're weird." He says it like it's a matter of fact. His expression completely drops into the deadpan face you're used to. He ignores how perplexed you look as he brings the dishes to the sink.

"And you're okay with that?" You ask out of genuine curiosity, you know that most people would outcast someone they think is weird - it's something you've often experienced at school and work. So if he thought you were strange then why would he stick around?

"Why wouldn't I be?" He looks up at you almost accusatorily as he scrubbed the dishes and put them to dry.

"I mean- It doesn't bother you at all that I'm abnormal or weird? I know people talk about how I sound or that I'm too... strange and stuff. It isn't lost on me but if you also know that then why do you stick around?" You let your words spill just wanting to get down to the root of the issue while escaping the heavy-handed approach of blurting out "Why would you want to be with someone you find weird?".

"Nope." That was his reply. His. Entire. Answer. Just "Nope." and then he picked his phone up from the table and went to sit in the living room. You know he saw your face as it contorted into even more confusion and bafflement but he ignored it!

You did the only sensible thing, of course, and immediately trailed him and sat right next to him, snatching his phone out of his hand as he opened up a game. You had his attention and yet he seemed confused? As if he wasn't the one who completely dodged your questioning before.

"Yes?"

"You have nothing else to say?"

He gave himself a moment to think, you thought for a millisecond that perhaps he's finally found a more appropriate answer, "Nope."

"Huh?" You shake your head completely bewildered. "You know I'm weird and you still want to be with me, why is that?"

"It's probably because I love you or something weird like that-" He turns to you as a blush sets in. Chuckling he gives a small pinch to your cheeks, fighting the cuteness aggression he feels, "Don't think about it too much though, that's a fact you should already know about by now... I would hope you know about by now..." He tilts his head as he says that last part as if questioning if you really did know about his love after all this time.

Vernon's love for you was something you never questioned, even though he wasn't exactly the best at physically expressing it he always made sure to assure you through words, actions, or gifts. It was a bit odd honestly, like he had some sort of psychic powers to know what your needs are. Maybe...

"I think you're the weird one actually-" you start thinking out loud.

"Yeah? Maybe."

"And you accept that, Han?"

"Mhm." His answers are blunt and to the point, you have to wonder if he's just saying this to satisfy your curiosity- "I'm not just saying that by the way. I know that I'm weird, babe."

"You a wizard?" He squints as he looks at you, waiting for clarification, "You read my mind like one."

"Nope, I'm just a really good boyfriend I think." He relaxes into the couch, pulling you onto his lap and retrieving his phone from your grasp.

"So we're both just weird and we both just have to accept that?"

"Looks like it, babe."

"huh..." You ponder on it for a moment as your eyes look around your shared apartment. Shelves filled with knick-knacks of yours, pillows in the shape of cartoon characters, anime on the TV currently... "Yeah, okay." You retract your worry as quick as it came, it was an absurd thought that you let yourself get caught up in any way. You wrap your arms around his neck, leaning your head against his shoulder as you watch him play his game.

"Hansol?"

"What?"

"Why am I seeing a half-naked man on your screen right now?"

"That is my current boyfriend, Sylus."

You look at him and raise an eyebrow, he meets your nebulous expression with a peck on the lips. "You are weird, Han."

"I know baby. It's honestly weirder that you heard me say all of that and that's your only reaction."

A/N: Hahaha totally not something to sate you guys as I continue working on the Cheol angst fic... (Please help me I'm 3000 words in and still haven't gotten through half of my bullet points) Tbf I did say it was gonna be long though... First Vernon fic though! Plus comeback around the corner, yeah let's all talk about all the whiplash that's been going on in Caratland rn...

Please Reblog and Comment (They act as power-ups for me)

Taglist (OPEN): @bemybabiibish @bath1lda @porridgesblog

[the-fandom-is-now-my-life]

The funniest thing about the Creator having a child thing (to me anways) is that the Archons act like their poor dear deity was an innocent in the whole situation, when you just KNOW that all the potential fathers (with the exceptions of Abyss Prince Aether and maybe Childe) were the ones being seduced.

Kaeya is a flirt, but he's not the type to bed someone willy-nilly, much less a deity. Nev is the Hydro Sovereign, he would have too much respect to try anything uncouth towards the Maker of All without their express permission. Kaveh would have to be blitzed out of his mind to even THINK of flirting with the Creator, much less bedding them. Childe, well...honestly it's a 50-50 split on that imo, he might if he thought it would go well and/or get him power of some sort. Traveler Aether would be focused on finding his sister, he wouldn't allow himself to be distracted by things like that...and Xiao? Xiao would never try anything that could even be mistaken as rude towards the Creator. Heck, I think getting a kiss on the cheek would be enough to make the poor guy panic.

So uh, I guess what I'm asking is...how did the dad's initially react to learning the Creator wanted to do the horizontal tango with them?

Help you are actually so right, in most scenarios I can only picture the reader being either shameless or forthcoming enough to say it to their face that they find the boy attractive or anything close.

I know there are at least a handful who while they fantasize about it wouldn't even dreamm of telling you that .

Their grace is so forthcoming

WC 1,2k

Flirty banter gets misunderstood for real flirting but they exploit the bug

Childe

“Your grace, you are shivering a lot!” he exclaims loudly as he pulls his harbinger coat onto your shoulders. The tsaritsa held a kind of ‘greetings party' with her harbingers, even if the atmosphere was tense and the chatting short, each of your sides being taken by the tsaritsa and Pierro. Sooner than expected everyone left. When you notice you left an accessory behind and meet face to face with the redhead alone in the room.

“Hm, I guess I'm a bit cold”

And without missing a beat or looking up from the clasp he was trying to secure he chimes faster than he can think “cold? But you are so hot!” but after he noticed his eyes seem to lack more will to live.

“I'm inc-”

As he attempts to apologize, your hand pulls on his wrist, getting him closer, his blue eyes wide, “You yourself are quite nice on the eyes, don't you want to tell me anything else?”

His Adam's apple bobs as he swallows the spit that pooled behind his teeth, his little Freudian slip ended up better than he expected.

Kaeya

“Oh my, what are you doing alone here?” Kaeya sits down on the chair next to you, only a lonely drink with you

“Mhm, Venti got into a fight with Jose six fingers about who was a better bard” you sigh as you sip your drink, looking down a window at the two bards singing outside trying to get the crowd to decide who was better.

“To leave such an beautiful person alone in a bar, I wouldn't be surprised if a drunkard tried to sweep you off your feet” he sips his alcoholic drink, the burning on his tongue soon settling warmly in his stomach before letting out a roaring laugh from the bottom of his chest “I'm joking~ I doubt anyone would dare attempt”

You let out a simple ‘mhm?’ before leaning your head to the side to look at Kaeya with a mischievous grin “oh, such a shame, I would have allowed you to do something so bold and a bit more” and your hand falls on his thigh under the table and his soon follow.

Venti

Would NEVER, under No circumstances flirt first for reasons

Xiao

-holds too much respect to dar think about you like that-

“Aren't you sweet?” the small apple falls on your hand, Xiao had climbed a nearby tree after hearing your stomach rumble.

“I appreciate your kind words, even then I think I'm too jaded to be considered anything akin to that” He bows his head. It's been a while since he accepted that he would never be clean of the blood he spilled during the war, but that at least managed to make him want to protect Liyue so they will be able to live peacefully.

“You may say that but isn't selflessly protecting liyue sweet? I would say it's sweet how you care about little Qiqi, I saw how you carried her up a cliff to grab qingxin. Undoubtedly pure sugar”

“Your grace…” his eyes soften as he looks down where you are.

“You are almost like candy I could eat up!”

Traveler aether

-shy/ has other things in his mind-

“I have to say aether, your house is surprisingly comfortable” the words slip past your lips before you can think about it. Even if it isn't how you would have furnished it nobody could say he had bad taste. There are lots of fireplaces and cushions and the seats and beds are quite comfortable, an odd combination of styles that sustained the idea of him being a traveler and cherry picking the most comfortable parts of each nation.

“Paimon had a hand at it too! If it was up to aether this would only be cushions and blankets! Paimon had to push for these plants!”

“Well it wouldn't be strange for a traveler to seek mostly comfort rather than looks”

Later into the night he leads you to another room on the upper floor, just a few meters away from his “how strange, I would have guessed the guest's room would be on the lower floor”

Aether just sighs, his braid swaying softly “Paimon wanted her room to be close to the kitchen so it was this or having the game room up here”

A few hours pass, there is a noise like paws on the roof but you pay no mind, Aether already explained that nobody could enter unless he allowed them to and most likely they were one of the many animals he kept inside the teapot. Softly you walk towards his door and knock on it, not without looking down the railing only to see pain passed out surrounded by a few fruits.

“Could I sleep with you?” You stand before his door wearing your piyama, as you say those words you drink in his disheveled appearance, a t-shirt a few sizes too big hanging from his shoulders down the middle of his white thighs, long blond hair usually collected in a braid now loose, some bits tangled and another flowing as they please.

“Huh…? If you are afraid of noises the cranes sometimes go to the roof and you can hear them”

“It's not that… it's more like I want to be close to you, in the same bed” his cheeks, usually milky white bloom peony red, and the last bit of hanging sleep fell from his eyes. He nods vigorously.

He has principles and openly flirting with you almost seems disrespectful

Neuvillette

Melusines are the pride of Fontaine, with their joyful disposition and chubby cheeks even if chronologically they can be hundred if years old they can blend in with 5 year olds seamlessly. Be it their tiny huffing and puffing when things don't go their way, to their attraction to sweets and how clingy they can be with neuvillette. Especially when he misses the usual monthly visit.

“I have already apologized, work stacked up and-”

“You prefer our sisters who stay in the city! It's unfair” the melusine who took over his lap started kicking the air until Neuvillette combs her hair with his fingers.

“You know it isn't like that… could you as a group behave for their grace? they are arriving soon” he attempts to calm her down while looking at the drawing another is showing him and how two others are braiding his hair.

“Never took you for the fatherly type” as you walk inside the grotto some melusines jump on you, they only see you as mister Neuvillette's friend and someone with a gift which you soon give them, it's a small ball with glitter inside, soon the melusines focus on that and start running around chasing it “aren't they a joyful bunch?”

“They seemingly never run out of energy so they can be tiring at times. My apologies for such display, I expected them to be able to be calm by the time you arrived but as you can see…”

“I don't mind, it's adorable, attractive even” he doesn't look too taken aback by your comment other than his slit pupils being thinner and longer than usual.

Diluc

Thoma

Alhaitham

Would actually flirt, holds you in high regard but still sees you as a human

Dainsleif

Abyss aether

[ramblingoak]

Am I the only one thinking about how much Copia regrets moving on stage whenever he feels his old man body hurts in protest the next day?

Definitely not, Anon! In fact you inspired me:

A Mouthful

Papa Emeritus IV x Reader

Warnings: a bit of body worship and some suggestive teasing from Copia because he can't help himself hehe, otherwise this is just a soft moment with him, 600 words, sfw (thank you to @gothdaddyissues for the dividers!)

“Right there, amore!  That’s perfetto.”

You bit your lip to hide your laugh at the overly exaggerated groan Copia let out while you kneaded the muscles in his back.  He was always a mess after performing, aches and pains quickly settling in after the adrenaline wore off.  While he often teased the audience about needing a “violent shower” nowadays he mostly just needed a long soak in a hot bath.

And you, of course.

“You’re good at this, I should keep you around.  Give you a job.”

“Oh?  And what would my title be?”

Copia turned his head to the side, his white eye catching yours.  There was still face paint caught in his wrinkles, you’d have to make sure to get that cleaned up before he fell asleep.  You raised an eyebrow when you saw the growing smirk playing at his mouth.

“Eh, non lo so.  Maybe something about the sibling in charge of rubbing down Papa?”  He grinned when you snorted, now turning his body to the side and capturing your hands.  “You don’t like it?”

“I don’t know, Papa.  It’s quite the mouthful.”  The gleeful look on his face at your words had you shaking your head, trying to contain your own smile at his antics.  “Don’t you dar–”

“Well, if it’s a mouthful you want I know just the thing.”

You both erupted in giggles, Copia tugging at your hands to pull you tightly against his body.  He groaned when he turned onto his back, an arm around your waist keeping you close to his side.

“Copia, let me finish.  You’ll be too sore to move in the morning if you don’t let me finish.”

“Just un memento, amore.  A few quiet moments before you work your magic again, bene?”

“Okie dokie, Papa.”  

You smiled when he pressed a kiss to your forehead and shimmied a bit so you were more comfortable.  This was your ritual with him after his ritual on stage.  A hot bath followed by an intense massage of his back and legs.  Sometimes it led to other things but it was also nice when it just led to you both cuddling against each other.  Copia sighed then and you looked up at him, blushing at the soft smile on his face.

“I’m not sure I’ll be uh…up for anything else tonight.  Mi dispiace.”

“Copia, you never need to apologize for that.  Okay?”  He nodded and you leaned up to give him a soft kiss.  “Let’s get you rolled over again so I can finish up.”

He slowly turned over and you grabbed the cream you used on him, rubbing it between your hands until it was warm.  You took a few seconds to admire his back, your eyes tracing the freckles and the sporadic bits of hair that Copia refused to believe existed.  The blanket had drifted down to the swell of his ass and you couldn’t stop yourself from staring, thinking of how good he looked in those tight pants he wore on stage. 

“Amore?”

“Oh, sorry, Papa!  I got distracted.”  

You avoided looking up from his back as you began to rub the muscles again, the bastard would just be smirking at you anyway.  As your hands drifted down his spine you let them dip lower, right below the edge of the blanket so you could press them into the flesh it was hiding.  Copia let out a very different sounding groan then and lifted his hips to encourage you to press harder.  When you obliged he dropped back down, slowly beginning to grind his hips into the bed.  

Maybe you’d get a mouthful of your Papa later after all.

If you'd like to be added/removed from the tag list (or if I accidentally left your name off) of this fic or any of my others please leave a comment or send me a dm! Thank you 💙

My Masterlist ~ My Archive of our Own ~ My Ko-Fi Tip Jar

[death---dealer]

How would Noa react to human reader on her period? I’m currently on mine and got this thought!

It's like you and i are the same person bc im on mine too ( The first time in like three years, im SUFFERING, ) Let's get self-indulgent. YOLO.

READ AT YOUR OWN RISK. READ THE PROMPT ABOVE AND MAKE THE CHOICE IF YOU ARE OKAY WITH THIS CONTENT, OTHERWISE, PLEASE DO NOT READ. Ty ty.

Due to the environment and stress of living in the society you were placed in, your period was admittedly not regular though you tried your best to keep track of it. It got lost from time to time and you were left unsure when it would rear its ugly head back in. Sometimes, it was remarkably early by a few weeks, sometimes, it was at least a month late.

Your first period while with the Clan? You had nothing prepared. Nothing to ease your bleeding, nothing to ease yourself into some semblance of comfort. You quite frankly go into a small panic. You don’t know who to talk to - there’s no humans here, and Apes don’t bleed and have symptoms like Humans do. 

Oh my god avoiding Noa for the few days out of embarrassment - How do you even begin to explain to him?

Don’t think for a moment that Noa doesn’t know something is going on. The boy has an acute sense of smell. The roll of your pheromones, how they hit him and stuck around like a fog around his head,  how they adjusted ever so slightly a few days before you began ignoring him? Noted. You’re more hungry than usual - going for seconds at the evening meal. Nothing savory though - you stocked up on fruits and berries and just explained to him that the sweetness was more up your alley. He’d mention that maybe you should have some meat to balance but the absolute daggers you gave him caused him to never bring it up again. Noted. The pull to your emotions, like you were swinging from a branch, back and forth not able to teether yourself to one? You began crying one day with him next to you while watching the Baby Apes play with each other. The next moment, you were snapping at him for even looking at you. Noted. The subtle shift in your body? Becoming a bit more reserved , you often kept your hands in front of your chest, blocking him from looking at you fully? Maybe, he even notices when your arms grazed your chest that you flinched - Tender breasts. Noted. Heightened mating the last few days? Oh, absolutely noted. Not as tired as you though - Noa noticed you getting more tired during the middle of the day, asking him a few days before your period actually hit if you could go take a nap while he went with Soona and Anaya to fish. Noted.

You go to Soona and Dar in hopes that maybe you can talk to them about it and actually have them understand. You’re too embarrassed to bring this up to Noa and you doubted that he’d understand at all. Noa does show up mid-conversation though- You had been talking to Soona and Dar about something from his perspective. He doesn’t take much time to notice that, letting his green eyes rest on you for a moment longer but the tone of the voice you’re using with his Mother and Soona? Quite, hushed, like you had a secret. Noa has to admit that he’s a tiny bit intrigued and he lingers, trying to pick apart the conversation despite his brain telling him not to, that it was obviously a private matter. But… The other side of him bargained and he wondered what secret you could have that you wouldn’t want him to know about. After all, you had been avoiding him for a few days and he needed to know why if that’s what you were talking to Dar and Soona about. Admittedly, as you explained to them what was happening  ( Soona and Dar ) they were more confused than you initially wanted them to be with your vague words, having to go into more detail and explain - Which was not on your bingo-card at all. You were unsure of what words/phrases they were going to understand so you had to transverse carefully around the subject. You felt like you were going to cry from embarrassment before a look of understanding flashed from Dar.  ~*So, from listening to the conversation he was not supposed to be a part of, Noa gathered only a few things: you were going through something that affected females? Hence, why you went to Soona and Dar. You were embarrassed to talk to Noa about it, it must have been pretty contentious. And went through this consistently, albeit not regularly? It was a sign of Echo maturity, your body coming into its own. On a consistent basis? Noa was confused. How does your body do that?

Oh my god Noa asking you about it. The blood rushing to your face as he mentions that he had heard you talking to his Mother and Soona. Your first instinct is to get defensive. You cross your arms in front of your chest, pretty adamant in telling him that there was nothing going on. Noa retaliates in defense of himself and says, “I… just want to know why… you… Are ignoring me.” The spacing of his words gives away that he was being careful to choose what he told you. Irrational anger bubbled to surface and you just snapped, “I’m on my period! Okay? I already talked to Dar and Soona about it and now you’re at my throat? Period! Is that a good enough answer for you!? It’s not always about you Noa!” You storm off, leaving the Ape bewildered. You eventually do return an hour or so later, this time, incredibly apologetic with tears in your eyes as you’re muttering to him through a flood of tears, telling him all about what was happening and how you were feeling. Your cramps, the headache that wouldn’t go away, your insatiable need to eat everything insight, the pure driven desire you had to be both angry and sad at the same time. You even went as far as to tell him that you were indeed bleeding -Something Noa didn't have the heart to tell you that he was aware of. Remember that acute sense of smell? He noticed it. He noticed it the last few days, figuring you would bring it up when you were ready. Noa pulls you into him, lightly pressing his forehead against yours. He’s still not 100% on the details but… He hated to see you cry. Hated to see you angry as well. He tells you that it’s okay, to calm down and that it’ll all be okay.  Those swinging emotions he recalled from a few days before your period? Yeah, they happen during as well and you flew off the handle. “I am calm! What makes you think I’m not?” You groaned, pulling away from him, “I’m going to lay down.” He just watches wordlessly as you walk away; wondering what he said that was so offensive.

He definitely begins to track it with fever though; just another thing for him to notice about you,  and he really did his best to be accommodating despite not fully understanding the reason why you went through it. He would tell you when he knew it was coming, something that you actually came to gratefully accept because the mutiny that was your body made it hard to track yourself.

Uhm hello? Noa bringing you an herbal drink that the Elders swore by to help with mild pain in the body. Usually, it was Apes that had joint problems from age, or some from injury, but the drink did help ease your headache and cramps to a semi-bearable state.

He scours the dinner for the most sweet berries and fruits. Noa is able to tell from look and feel which ones would be more welcomed by you and he’s always so diligent to bring you two bowls. One for now, one for later.

OHHhhh my god Noa resting his hands on your stomach when you’re tangled in the nest together. He can sense the discomfort you’re in. You had tossed and turned almost the entire night, keeping the two of you awake. Now that it was dusk, you felt more at ease as he placed a hand on the lower part of your abdomen and groaned at the pleasure of feeling his heated skin.  ~*Definitely becomes more of a coping action that Noa works around. If Noa senses you’re feeling either nauseated or in pain, he’s rather quick to pull you into him and ease it the best he can. Favorite position? You’re laying on your side and he is spooning you from behind. Hands on your lower stomach, lightly at first but more intense if you’re craving more pressure and heat from him. He’s noticed you like to fall asleep like that. And he’s more than willing to oblige. 

Ah god the forehead touches when you have a headache? Someone sedate me. ~* He really gets into it and will wrap his hands around your head, his fingers almost meeting at the back of your neck. The heat from his hands feels absolutely euphoric against your temples as he pulls you towards him. You fall lax against him and ultimately let Noa pull you into his lap. Hands run from the back of your neck down to your lower back. He’ll place tender touches there too, knowing that lower back pain was also common.

[thevoidstaredback]

Tales of Conquest, Warnings of Fools: Letters Between Brothers

Still no letter from Damian. He’d been checking the mailbox every day for a year, but he understood why. Kind of. He gets that Damian and his family were under a lot of stress after Mr. Wayne was kidnapped, and they're probably celebrating now that he’s back, but that still didn’t stop the tiny bit of hurt Danny felt whenever he noticed the lack of responses from his brother.

A bigger part of him was wondering why it was taking so long for Damian to respond. Sure, his father had gone missing, and that was a lot of stress, but now he was back and it’d been nearly four months, but there was still no letter.

Maybe Damian really did hate him. Or maybe he’d forgotten about him? He hoped neither was the case, but he knew both were possibilities.

“Tot nicio scrisoare, nu?” Jazz asked. She was fluent in Romanian now, having taken to the language like a fish to water. Part of that was probably because Danny refused to teach her Arabic unless she learned three other languages, all of which had to be derived from different alphabets.

“Nu.” his shoulders slumped after he closed the mailbox, letters for his parents in his hand.

Jazz nudged his shoulder with hers. “Curaj! Măcar știi că e bine? El și familia sa au postat în mod regulat pe rețelele lor de socializare.”

Danny huffed. “ابتهج، كما تقول. لو كان الأمر بهذه السهولة، لكنت أسعد شخص في العالم.”

“Ce a fost asta?” she glared playfully at him from the corner of her eye.

“Nimic!” he stated. ���De unde știi că postează în mod regulat? Îi urmărești pe Waynes?”

“Bineînțeles că îi urmăresc pe Waynes! La început a fost pentru că toată lumea îi urmărește, dar apoi mi-ai spus că Damian Wayne este fratele tău? Nu puteam să nu-i urmăresc.”

“Eu nu... Cum ai aflat că Damian e fratele meu? Nu ți-am spus niciodată asta.”

“Pentru că sunt chiar atât de grozav!” She flipped her hair over her shoulder as she said this, the wind making it go all over. “Nu a fost așa de greu, Danny. Voi doi arătați aproape la fel.”

He sighed. “I mean, I guess we look sorta alike.”

“‘Sorta’?” she scoffed, “Have you seen a picture of him recently? If people see you two side-by-side, they’re gonna find out your twins. I’m surprised no one’s mistaken you for him yet.”

“I’m not in a high enough circle to be mistaken for him. Sure, maybe Sam’s parents would make the mistake if they didn’t hate me enough to recognise me on vibes alone.” He opened the front door. “Seriously, how do they do that? If I hadn’t already made sure, I’d think they were tracking me.”

“You checked for trackers?”

“You would not believe the kind of shit that my Mother taught me about. And if you thought that was bad, father is so much more paranoid.”

“Really?” she raised an eyebrow, closing the door behind her. “Brucie Wayne, the man who once went viral for getting so drunk that he kissed a reporter because he thought he looked like Superman?”

“Yep.”

“We are talking about the same man, yeah?”

Danny just shrugged. “Paranoia’s hereditary.”

“It’s really not.” Jazz said.

Danny led the way up the stairs, leaving the door to his room open after he walked in, changing the conversation as Jazz did the same. “Your Romanian is sounding pretty good!”

“‘Pretty good’?” she called back, “I’m fluent!”

“Yeah, but you still have an accent.”

“So do you!”

“Yes, but mine is purposeful.”

“Why?”

“Do make you look better.”

Because their rooms are diagonal from each other, the ball that Jazz threw landed in Danny’s room, bouncing off the wall and hitting his arm. “Jerk!”

He laughed, rubbing his arm. “You love me.”

“A moral obligation.”

He feigned hurt. “Is that all I am to you? A moral obligation?”

“Yes!”

“Ouch, Jazzy, that hurts. Truly.”

“I’m sure.” She leaned against the doorframe to his room, her arms crossed. “Will you teach me Arabic now? I learned A Latin-derived language like you told me to.”

He shook his head. “Three languages, remember? Three languages and then I would teach you Arabic.”

She groaned, rolling her head back and then to the left to glare at him. “Fine! Which one are you gonna teach me now?”

Danny thought for a moment, mentally rifling through the languages he knew. “Russian,” he decided, “it’s based off of Old East Salvic.”

“But that’s gonna take forever!” Jazz whined.

“No it’s not,” Danny shot back, “It only took me a few months to learn.”

“Yeah, but that’s because you’re like, a super-genius.”

“What does that make you? You’re smarter than me.”

“Evidently not,” she huffed. “Where do I start?”

He grabbed a book off his shelf, one he’d bought two years into his stay with the Fentons. “The Cyrillic Alphabet. It’s what Russian uses.”

Jazz flipped through the Russian dictionary. “These are just straighter versions of the English Alphabet.”

“Not quite,” Danny said, “But, yeah.”

Jazz sighed, closing the book. “Great. Another year of studying before you make me learn another language before Arabic. What’s it gonna be that time, huh? Korean?”

“I was actually thinking Japanese.”

She groaned again, walking away to her room. “That was a joke, D!”

“No it wasn’t!” Her door closed in response. Danny huffed a laugh before closing his own door and settling at his desk.

He sighed, looking at the homework page. It was all stuff he already knew, stuff he’d been taught when he was a kid. When were they going to get to stuff he didn’t know?

It probably didn’t help that he got so bored doing his homework that he took college courses instead. At least those had material he’d not gotten the chance to learn in Nanda Parbat! If he got his Bachelor's early, would Jack and Maddie let him drop out, or would they make him get a GED? He already had one, but that wasn’t the point. Maybe, if he got his Masters? Though, that would mean he’d have to actually choose something to major in, and Danny wasn’t sure he was ready for that kind of commitment.

A lie. He was stuck between majoring in linguistics and astronomy. A problem for later Danny, he decided.

In the past year, he’d taken very quickly to astrology. It was fun, learning new things and beliefs about the stars and planets. He’d tried to get Sam and Tucker interested, but neither took to it very much. They’d tried, like good friends, but it didn’t click with them. However, Sam did start looking into magic and stuff, which then got him into magic and stuff. Tucker wasn’t into it, but they’d managed to combine all of their interests into one.

The computer code Tucker and Danny had started was coming along well, for them being barely in eighth grade. It was designed to look like a star chart, but the code itself had runes mixed in. None of them were really sure if the runes would do anything, but they thought they looked cool, so the runes were left in.

They were nowhere near a final product, but they were making good progress. Probably due to the fact that they were spending as much time as they could on it. It was hard to keep it a secret from everyone, though. They’d originally wanted to tell Jazz, but she hadn’t shown any interest in any of their hobbies, so they didn’t. Maybe in the future?

That’s what Danny opted to work on instead of his homework. He had designed the star chart based off of what he’d had access to at the time, but now more stars were being discovered and more planets were being introduced. It wasn’t going to be officially part of their coding project, but he figured it’d be nice to have anyway.

The problem with making a new star chart was that he had nowhere to hang it. His walls all had posters on them, and furniture blocked what space there was. The door was too small, either. Sure, he could move stuff around, but that was a lot of work he really didn’t want to do. However, he looked up, his ceiling was looking mighty plain.

However, after staring at it for nearly twenty minutes, he found it hard to focus on the star chart, too. His thoughts kept wandering back to his brother. Was Damian alright? Why hadn’t he replied? Even a small, one-sentence scrap of paper would’ve been a nice reprieve from his anxiety!

He toyed with the idea of sending another letter, despite that he’d told his brother he’d wait, but he didn’t. He very nearly did several times, but he managed to pull himself away from doing so. He didn’t think it’d be appreciated at all.

He groaned in frustration and harshly shoved his chair away from his desk, standing up and shoving it back into place. Then, he left his room. He needed a distraction that wouldn’t make him focus.

He grabbed his phone and opened the chat he had with Sam and Tucker and told them his problem. They both agreed to come over to hang out. Danny didn’t think he’d ever get tired of being around his friends, no matter what. He hoped they felt the same way, too.

Impatiently, he waited by the front door for his friends to arrive. When they did, they found themselves haphazardly sprawled over the couch and chairs on the main floor. They weren’t really doing anything other than sitting together, the TV turned on with a low volume for white noise.

Eventually, though, Sam asked, “So, what’re your parents working on in the basement?”

Danny shrugged as best he could from how he was laying, his legs over the back of the chair and his head hanging upside down. “The same thing as always; the Ghost Portal.” He was heavy on the sarcasm of the title. It was completely inane and unoriginal.

Sam perked up. “They’ve actually been working on a portal?”

“Yeah,” he answered, “Since they were in college, I think.”

“Really?” Tucker asked, his interest peaked.

A nod. “Yep.”

“Can we go see it?” the other boy asked again.

Danny hesitated. “Um, I’m not sure. My parents aren’t home right now, I don’t know if the lab’s messy…or safe.”

“It can’t be that bad!” Sam jumped up from her own chair, “C’mon! Just a quick look!”

Tucker, too, stood, “Yeah, man. We won’t touch anything. Scout’s Honor!”

“You’re not a scout,” Danny said, though he stood with them.

“Please?” Sam said, “You know we’ll just go down there anyway, with or without you.”

Tucker was the one to hesitate this time. “I don’t know about that. I mean, it’s a science lab. I don’t think I’d wanna go down there without someone who knows it well.”

“And you think that’s me?” Danny asked. Another look at his friends’ faces had him caving. “Alright, fine, but none of us are touching anything. Got it?”

“Loud and clear, man!” The two agreed.

He took the lead, stopping just before the entrance to the basement, the caution sign on the door not doing anything to dissuade either of his friends.”For the record: I don’t like this at all.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Sam waved him off, “Tell it to the judge.”

With another heavy sigh, Danny opened the basement door and started down the steps, the other two following closely behind him, not closing the door behind them. The carpet on the stairs had been torn up and badly replaced with uneven linoleum tiles. The walls were also covered in the same sheet metal as the lab itself, cut and applied much more neatly than the stairs. The wall at the bottom of the stairs had been carved into shelves for cleaning supplies, a small vertical pocket having been cut out for a broom and a mop. To the right was another door, this one reinforced metal, that led into the lab. The doorframe was covered over in caution tape as a final warning.

Trudging on, Danny opened the vertically sliding door and walked into his parent’s lab. As he expected, it was messy. Papers were scattered around, half built somethings ended up where there wasn’t paper, blueprints were taped haphazardly to the walls, and there were tools scattered all over the floor. Garage shelves lined one wall, holding completed inventions. Whatever tools weren’t on the floor, and empty jars of all sizes.

The architect’s desk was against the wall with the door, filing cabinets stood on the other side of the desk, all the drawers open. The wall next to the door - not the same wall because of the corner turning in - was where the garage shelves were pushed, four of them taking up the entire wall. Directly across from the door and dest was the newest addition to the lab. A sliding door of reinforced glass led into the “weapons room” where the completed weaponry and safety equipment was all stored. Directly across from the garage shelves, set into the furthermost wall of the lab, was the pièce de résistance: The Ghost Portal.

The trio carefully stepped their way into the room, Danny picking up some tools from the floor so they had a spot to stand. As promised, they didn’t touch anything except for the tools which they piled in a corner.

“Whoa.” Tucker admired, “That’s so cool!”

“Not really,” Danny scrunched his nose up. It had been completed, but his parents hadn’t turned it on yet, saying that they were making sure they had everything ready before they did. Personally, he thought that they’d tried and failed to open it. The inside of it was still messy, but not nearly as bad as the lab floor was. He still didn’t like going near it; it gave him a bad feeling, and he’d been taught to trust his gut when logic was useless. Logic, when dealing with anything having to do with his parents, was use;ess, so he listened to his gut. His gut said to stay away, so he always did his best.

“You should go in it.” Sam suggested.

It took Danny a second to clock that she’d been talking to him. “What?”

“Go stand in it,” she elaborated, pulling her phone out of the pocket of her skirt, “I want a picture.”

“Then you go stand in it and I’ll take the picture!”

“You told us not to touch anything! Standing inside whatever that thing is is considered as touching it.”

Tucker shrugged when Danny looked to him for help. “Don’t look at me, man, she’s right. Besides, I think it’d make a pretty cool picture.”

“Not helpful.” he glared. A few seconds later, he groaned. “Alright, you guys win.” While they cheered, he marched himself over to the Armory, as his parents called it, and put on his HAZMAT suit. He hated the feel of the thing, but any form of safety was appreciated at the moment.

He subconsciously noted that the suit no longer felt completely like rubber, as though it had been remade with some kind of cloth that had rubber mixed in with it. Still, changed into it behind the curtain in the Armory. He would’ve much preferred to keep his clothes on under it, but it was too tight for that to be an option. Pulling the black gloves on, he rejoined his friends in the lab proper.

Sam cat-whistled at him. “You look miserable.”

“Like a wet cat.” Tucker agreed.

Danny scowled at them. “Yeah? Why don’t you put this thing on and stand in the portal?”

They both shook their heads. “Your own rules, D,” Sam reminded with a smirk. She held up her flip-phone, ready to take her picture. “Now, hurry up. I want to get outta here before your parents or Jazz comes down.”

Like Jazz would be caught dead coming down here willingly. “Why’d you ask to come down here if you didn’t wanna be caught down here?” Regardless, Danny relented, picking his way across the floor and to the empty mass of the portal lodged into the wall.

It was still as foreboding as the first - and only other - time it’d gone near it. It looked bright from this side, the combination of the bright lab lights and the LEDs lining the space behind it gave the illusion of brightness. Danny knew, however, that it was much darker on the inside.

He stepped over the threshold of the octagonal archway and into the dark, ten-foot void behind it. Again, as he’d observed the first time stepping into the thing, the glowing blue circuitry that was embedded into the metal sheeting on the walls seemed to make the hallway dimmer, the white LED work lights lining the floor doing nothing to brighten it. He knew there were cables on the floor, but he could no longer see them; his parents had covered them in black that matched the floor.

Not bringing a flashlight was probably a mistake.

The sound in the lab seemed nearly gone, too, taken over by the humming of electricity running through the ten-foot hallway he now stood in. He could hear faint murmurs of Tucker and Sam talking, but he couldn’t make out what they were saying. He had a really, really bad feeling about this.

Just before he turned around, he heard the distinct sound of a phone’s camera shutter. It cut through the electrical hum surrounding him like a hot knife through butter. It startled him, and he jumped. His foot caught on a cable, tripping him up. He flailed for a second,disappointing his Mother’s training, before catching himself on the wall. There was a soft click as his hand sunk into the wall. Behind him, there were two screams.

Danny’s final thought before the pain of the situation registered in his head was, “Now I’ll never get to touch the stars.”

Some think that when you die, it’s peaceful. Brain activity doesn’t stop for another five minutes after the body dies, so most people think that those five minutes is your life replaying for you as one final dream, lulling you into either your afterlife or into your next life or into non-existence.

The body dies, so sensation must stop, too, right? The brain stops sending signals to the body because it stops responding.

Danny would like to say that, in his humble opinion, as well as basing it off his own experience, those people are full of shit.

He died, but he didn’t stop feeling. Even when he’d been sure he’d gone numb from dying and reviving and dying and reviving over and over again, he still felt every signal that had been sent through his body.

Five minutes after the body dies, the brain dies. Danny’s didn’t, not even after ten minutes. It kept sending signals to his pain receptors, telling them that he was being ripped apart and pieced back together so fast that the actions were near simultaneous!

He wasn’t sure if it was just a rift into another dimension/world that had opened up on top and through him, or if another dimension/world had been dragged to and through him. He wasn’t sure he ever wanted to know. He just knew that it was painful and that he wanted it to stop.

Overall, it wasn’t an experience he’d wish upon even his worst enemy.

“Danny!” He heard the sob over the ringing in his ears, though it was quiet and far away.

“Wha’?” he groaned, his hand moving to his head. “Wha’ t’e ‘ell?”

Two pairs of arms wrapped around him, sending a jolt of pain through his sensitive nerves. “Danny!”

He weakly pushed at them, trying to get them off because contact hurts! “‘et offa me!”

The two pulled back, fussing over him without touching him.

“Danny!” Tucker sobbed, “Are you okay? Obviously not; that was a stupid question. Can you see? Can you hear? Can you feel anything?”

Danny nodded. “I can feel that everything hurts,” he whispered, his voice hoarse. He opened his eyes, closing them right after, then he tried again slowly. He blinked slowly a few more times before blinking normally. “My sight’s good…mostly.”

“‘Mostly’?” Sam demanded, “What do you mean ‘mostly’?”

He closed his left eye, opened it, then closed his right eye. “That’s not good.”

“What?” Tucker asked, “What’s not good? You can’t just say that-!”

“My left eye. I can’t see.”

“What?!”

He ignored them, focusing on his hearing. He covered his left ear, uncovered it, and covered his right. “Do me a favor and say something?” He recovered his left ear.

“Like- like what?” Tuck asked nervously. Both he and Sam were watching Danny’s hands.

Dany nodded, covering his right ear and uncovering his left. “Again?”

Sam spoke this time, “What do you want us to say?”

Danny froze for a second, scrambling to stand up. The two followed after, steadying him when he almost fell back down. His eyes widened and he forced Tucker onto his left side, keeping Sam on his right. “Say something, both of you.”

The two shared a look over his head before Sam said, “You’re scaring us, jerk, what’s wrong?” and Tucker said, “What’s going on, man?”

He stumbled again, his full weight dropping onto his friends as they caught him, sending all three of them to the floor in a heap. “...I can’t hear.”

It was quiet. “...what?”

“My-my left ear-! I- It’s ringing and I can’t hear-!”This would mess everything up! It couldn’t be permanent, right? It was just the aftershocks of whatever the hell just appended to him! He’d be fine in a few hours, a few day’s tops. He’d be able to hear again and see again. It’d be fine.

He forced his breathing to slow, focusing back on what Sam and Tuck were saying to him.

“Are-are you back with us, D?” He hated that her voice sounded so small. It didn’t suit her in the slightest.

He nodded. “Y-yeah. Let’s…let’s get outta here, yeah?”

The two nodded, each grabbing an arm to help him up. When he was standing again, an arm over either of his friends’ shoulders, he finally saw the portal.

It was toxic green, the colour of radiation in cartoons. The room seemed to be darker, near pitch closest to the portal, but it staved it off with its green glow. Was it absorbing the light? The overhead lights were all working perfectly fine. The green was moving, swirling with darker green lines mixed in with it. It was beautiful. It was terrifying.

They left the lab.

*

Sam’s parents paid for Danny’s hospital trip a week later. For as much as they hated him, they weren’t about to let him pay for a hospital trip with his own allowance because his parents were neglectful and didn’t even know he’d been hurt.

And Sam promised to wear pink at the next party she’d attend.

So, Danny sat on the hospital bed, waiting for the doctor or nurse or someone to come tell him that his hearing and sight were going to come back. They asked a lot of questions that he didn’t like, but he answered them anyway.

“How did this happen?”

“There was an accident in my parents’ lab.”

“Where were your parents?”

“Gone. They left the lab unlocked and I wanted to see what they were working on.”

This was his fault. Under no circumstances were Tucker or Sam to take any of the blame. He got hurt because of his own stupidity.

The doctor had told him and Sam’s father - because he wasn’t allowed to go alone - that they’d have to call Jack and Maddie and explain the situation. He begged them not to; they had enough on their plates! Besides, it’s not like they’d care. He didn’t let them call Jazz, either. She had enough to worry about. He can take care of himself. He did, however, compromise with them. Until he turned eighteen, his legal guardian changed, or he became emancipated, Jeremy Manson was to be alerted wherever he had to go to the hospital. Jeremy was slightly upset by this, but he allowed it. He didn’t like Dany, but he hated the Fenton parents even more. Besides, it would look good socially if it was found out by the public.

“Thank you for being here, Mr. Manson.” Danny said. They were still waiting for the doctor to come back.

Mr. Manson gave a tight smile. “It’s okay. I don’t like you, but I don’t want to see you hurt.” He sighed in frustration. “It’s no secret that me and Pamala don’t like your parents, but this only puts them in an even worse light. What are they thinking? Leaving their lab unlocked-! No, even having a lab in the first place!”

“Mr. Manson!” Danny called, “It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not, Daniel. You got seriously hurt. Your friend Tuker or my darling Samantha could’ve been seriously hurt! That’s not anywhere near okay!”

“‘Danyal’.” he corrected lightly, “My name is pronounced ‘Danyal’. And it’s okay because it was my fault.”

Mr. Manson shook his head again, locking eyes with Danny. “Listen to me, Danyal-” Danny smiled slightly at the pronunciation correction. “-This is not your fault. Your parents allowed access to their lab by leaving the door unlocked. Anything that happened in that lab was their fault, okay?”

Danny shook his head. “But-”

“No,” the man cut off. He took a breath and sat down. “Why don’t you tell me what happened?”

He hesitated for a moment, weighing his options in his head. On one hand, he could totally handle keeping it a secret. On the other hand, what did he have to keep secret? It would probably be good for an adult to know what happened, especially on the off chance that he doesn’t actually fully heal from it.

Danny took a deep breath. “Promise you won’t be mad at anyone?”

Confused, Mr. Manson nodded, “No more than I already am.”

“Okay,” he nodded to himself, “Okay. So, We were at my place, watching TV. I mentioned what my parents were working on, and Sam said she wanted to see it. I told them it was a bad idea, but Tucker wanted to, too, and I wasn’t about to let them go down there on their own and potentially get hurt!” He breathed deep again. “Sam said she wanted a picture of the portal - that’s what my parents have been working on - and she told me to go stand in it. I told her to go stand in it because I’ve been in it before - last year about - and I didn’t like it because it gave off a weird vibe. Anyway, she and Tuck ganged up on me because I told them not to touch anything in the lab and they made me go stand in the portal. I changed, and stepped into the thing.” Another deep breath. “But, it’s really weird in there because it’s so dark, no matter how much light there was in the tunnel or in the lab itself - and it was really quiet, too. I didn’t know that Sam was gonna take the picture, so when she did, the sound startled me- It just sounded so loud…” He slowed down a bit with a smaller inhale. “I tripped and caught myself on the wall, but I guess my parents put the ‘on’ switch on the inside…I hit it when I tripped.” He felt tears running down his cheeks. His voice got quieter. He was aware that there was another person in the room now, probably the doctor. “It hurt. It hurt so bad!It felt like I was being ripped apart and put back together again over and over and- I think I died…” He felt himself paling. “I died Mr. Manson! I-!” Sobs cut him off, heavy and body shaking. He felt himself get pulled into a hug.

Mr. Manson had his arms around Danny, holding him to his chest. Why? Mr. Manson didn’t like Danny, so why..? He leaned into the embrace, tears soaking the man’s shirt.

“And now I can’t see and hear and my arm and hand keep spasming-!”

He continued to cry for nearly an hour. When he was calm enough, he pulled away and wiped his face with his hand. Look at him. Being a civilian for so long has made him soft. He’s crying over such a trivial thing.

The doctor’s voice was soft as she spoke, telling him what was wrong. There was no way to fix what was done, not until he was an adult, at least, because he refused to tell his parents. She recommended hearing aids and glasses because his hearing and sight weren’t gone, but they may as well have been. She also explained, after he’d told them about hitting the button, that because the point of contact had been his hand, he was going to have issues with touch and muscle spasms. She said it was nerve damage and that compression cuffs would help him. The chronic pain, however, would follow him for the rest of his life. She had also noted the lichtenberg scars trailing from his hand, up his arm, down his chest and back, up his neck, and up to his eye, over his ear. They were faint enough to not be seen at first, but they were noticeable upon further inspection.

At the end of the visit, Mr. Manson paid and drove him home. Before he could get out of the car, Mr. Manson said, “Thank you for telling me. And, thank you for keeping Samantha safe.”

Danny smiled smally at him. “It’s alright, Mr. Manson. I don’t ever plan on letting her or Tucker get hurt if I can help it. Besides, I didn’t do much of anything.”

“That’s not true,” Mr. Manson shook his head. “And, please, call me Jeremy.”

“But you don’t like me, Mr. Manson,” he tilted his head slightly.

Mr. Manson laughed. “Call it an olive branch, okay?”

Danny chuckled. “Okay, Mr. Jeremy.”

The man shook his head. “I’m glad you told me. I’ll talk to Pamala; You’re welcome in our home if you ever need to leave this place, okay?”

“Okay, Mr. Jeremy.” He nodded and got out of the car. “Thank you, again.”

“Anytime.”

He closed the door and watched as Mr. Jeremy drove off. Then, he checked the mailbox. Still no letter. With a sigh, he adjusted the strap of the bag he was holding - supplies the hospital had given him to help that Mr. Jeremy paid for - and went into his house.

Jack and Maddie weren’t home again, likely getting more supplies and stuff to stock the lab. After he’d opened the portal, he’d sent Sam and Tucker home; he didn’t want them there when his parents saw the activated portal. They’d celebrated when they saw it, taking him and Jazz to dinner. Then, they’d locked themselves down in the lab with the portal, studying it and making stuff to use on whatever came through. If anything ever came through. During the day, they’d spend a few hours out of the house, gathering things to study whatever they caught coming through. Honestly, Danny didn’t know when they had time to sleep or eat.

He hoped that nothing ever came through. He hoped that the portal would destabilize and shut down. He hoped a lot of things.

Sitting at the desk in his room, the door closed, Danny picked up a pencil. He was ambidextrous, though he mostly used his left hand. Until recently, that is. The handwriting was horrible compared to writing with his left, but he had to let Damian know what had happened.

***

Damian Wayne,       Sept. 8th, 2013

I don’t know if you got my last letters, nor do I know if you want to hear from me, but there’s something I have to tell you. I don’t want to keep secrets from you anymore.

I was in an accident a few days ago. My foster parents have been working on a portal into another dimension since they were in college. Recently, they got the final product done and built in our basement. Sam and Tucker wanted a picture of me in it, so I went in and I tripped-

***

The pencil fell through his fingers and clattered on the desk, rolling off before falling to the floor, stopping a few inches away. Danny stared at his hand. He didn’t finish the letter.

Translation 1 - Romanian: Stoll no letter, huh? Translation 2 - Romanian: Nope Translation 3 - Romanian: Cheer up! At least you know he's alright? He and his family have been posting on their socials regularly. Translation 4 - Arabic: Cheer up, she says. If it were that easy, I'd be the happiest person in the world. Translation 5 - Romanian: What was that? Translation 6 - Romanian: Nothing! … How do you know that they're posting regularly? Do you follow the Waynes? Translation 7 - Romanian: Of course I follow the Waynes! At first it was because everyone followed them, but then you told me that Damian Wyane is your brother? I couldn’t not check in on them. Translation 8 - Romanian: I didn't- How did you find out Damian's my brother? I never told you that. Translation 9 - Romanian: Because I’m just that awesome! … It wasn’t that hard, Danny. You two look almost exactly alike.

Part 6 Part 8

[elegy-if]

For the very first time in years, you’re met with the scent of fresh air. No antiseptic, no lingering smell of blood, still so thick you can practically taste it at just the memory of it. You’re not going back if it kills you. Which it very well might.

DEMO: LINK (UPDATED DECEMBER 8TH, 2023.)

Nemisi is an 18+ modern horror/romance/urban fantasy interactive novel WIP. Play as a customizable MC, who’s on the run from Vicelie Labs.

The struggle between cosmic deities — now worshiped (or abhorred) as gods — tore its way into your planet not long before you were born. Unluckily for you, you were one of the first generations to be born exposed to Excinate, the name given to the radioactive-like sickness that comes from being exposed to magic not of your world. As your symptoms slowly got worse and worse, you were promptly ripped from your family after a doctor’s visit ushered on by your concerned parents. Since then, you’ve been shipped around and transported from facility to facility to be poked and prodded at.

Until now. No, now you’re free.

Aside from that lingering hunger for flesh you’ve had since becoming infected, of course. Just a little side effect from the radiation, along with a mouthful of jagged teeth and a jaw that can unhinge like a snake.

THE CAST:

Refs for RO skin tones can be found here!

Felix (he/she, bigender + bisexual): Curt, blunt, and too tired to deal with this mess, Felix really had no reason to suspect the lab next to gas station he works night shifts at had anything to hide. It’s not like the screams he heard coming from that direction were anything more than some kids messing around late at night, right? Besides, she'd met some of the employees of Vicelie Labs, and aside from the occasional lingering scent of blood, they seemed like just fine people. 

Okay, so maybe she did have a sneaking suspicion something was up. Not like he could do anything about it. Not until you show up, at least, crashing through the gas station door in such a tizzy you’d nearly run into it.

Tall and lanky, Felix often has a scowl spread across her face. He has tawny brown skin, dark brown eyes, and poorly bleached hair with quite a bit of jet black root growth. His hair is styled into a shaggy wolf cut, and of course one can’t forget the shitty stubble she’s refused to shave since it grew in. Felix has a body that might often be described as scrawny, or perhaps even gangly. A strong gust of wind could knock him over. Felix is most often seen in casual clothes; hoodies, band shirts, and jeans make up the majority of her wardrobe. Has several piercings; a bridge, septum, both nostrils, snake bites, and two eyebrow piercings side by side. She stands at 5’11” tall. Felix is trans no matter what. He will always use both he and she pronouns interchangeably. Please do not use they/them to refer to her.

Dr. Eden Neal (gender selectable, M/F/NB): Kind, but awkward. A doctor who didn’t know what they were getting into when applying for a job with Vicelie Labs. Fresh out of med school, the harsh reality of the labs was too much for them. They were assigned to examine you, and though it was hard to trust them at first (and even now) they were essential in your escape. 

While Eden seems to be a kind soul, your bitter side can’t help but wonder if their assistance in your escape was some cruel joke.

Combined with their soft, rounded features, Eden’s dark hair is in long braids, often pulled back out of their face into a ponytail. They have large golden brown eyes with thick eyelashes, and their skin is a deep brown, with a hint of a cool undertone. More soft than muscle, though they still have some tone and definition to their arms and back. It’s not easy work lifting and moving those heavy vats around the lab, after all. Eden is most typically seen in a lab coat, though they lean a bit more business casual once they start meeting up with you for check-ins after your escape. They stand at 5’4”, regardless of gender. Eden is black, with dark skin.

Sable (gender selectable, M/F/NB): A bit of an outcast, Sable is an extremely shy mortician, and one of your (limited) options for getting the flesh you so desperately crave. They spot you sneaking into the morgue one night, half lucid and drunk with the need for blood and flesh on your tongue. They offer to cut a deal with you — they’ll give you all the scraps and leftovers that they can get away with, so long as you give them any information you’ve picked up about the consequences of using cosmic magic. 

Are they seeking power, or just simply curious about the consequences of magic from a biological standpoint?

Sable is one of the tallest RO’s, standing at 6’2” regardless of gender. They have a bright shock of long, curly ginger hair, and their near ghostly pallor is covered in freckles and beauty marks. Most notably, they have beauty marks to the right of their bottom lip, as well as underneath their left eye. They have a long, roman nose with a prominent bridge and blue eyes. Their body is on the heavier side, with a soft stomach and thick thighs. Sable doesn’t dress to impress as they’re mostly surrounded by dead bodies, typically wearing neutral colored slacks and skirts. They occasionally spice things up with an interesting vest or tie, but are much too scared to stand out to do so often. They have circle glasses. Sable is plus size, with a pear shaped figure.

Eris (gender selectable, M/F/NB): A hired killer, and the only other option you have for sating your hunger besides Sable. You meet Eris as you’re hiding away from Vicelie Labs in Eden's apartment, drawn to the smell of blood from them finishing up one of their “contracts” in the apartment next door. It’s a mess of guts and gore, and you can’t stop yourself from indulging. After a moment of awareness, you go to turn tail and run, only to find Eris still there. They have an offer for you — they’ll kill for you, and you can have at their fresh meat. Certainly an offer that’s hard to pass up, considering your current predicament.

Perpetually masked, you’re actually not certain what Eris looks like behind it. From what you can see, they’re very sturdy. All you can see besides their build is their hair, occasionally peeking out from beneath their hood. It falls to Eris’ wide shoulders, and from what you’ve seen is a dark brown. They stand at 6'0" tall, regardless of gender.

???: You’ve only heard of them in passing at the lab — someone who goes after rogue assets, like you. According to Eden, they’re after you, and with a vengeance.

Good luck.

[circeyoru]

(UNWANTED SOUL idea) when reader gets turned to an angle instead of being stuck in heaven they immediately return via their page teleportation. So no angsty alastor for more than 5 min. But they teleported right behind Adam and we're the one to kill him much to alastors delight and everyone else's confusion.

Later on alastor is learning to take care of the readers wings since reader forgets they have them and let's them fall to disreapare.

Go to MASTERLIST for the works. This ask is for {Unwanted Souls}. *Check the redeem you ones

Okay, no angst. Err... Maybe a bit, just a touch

I'll bet that Alastor was crushed when he saw you disappear into thin air. Not the type where you teleport elsewhere to avoid him, but actually disappear, gone, dead. When his soul was returned to him and his limitations all gone. He wrathfully unleashed at Adam.

Somehow I feel like Alastor using his full power will have massive pressure and tension built the closer one's to him. Within that less than 5 minutes, let's say Alastor singlehandedly got the barrier up again and slaughtered any and all angels that come into his perimeter. Charlie and the others all felt the surge in Alastor's power and pressure, immediately heading towards him to see what was happening since their stations were all cleared thanks to Alastor.

To counter Alastor, Adam used more power as well. In the end, Alastor was still no match but unlike in the show, he doesn't back down because you were gone. In his mind, that memory kept replaying, there was two option for him: either kill Adam or die trying.

When the Charlie and the other made it to Alastor's battlefield, they shouted for him to stop and retreat because he was at a disadvantage the more he fights. He was clearly losing that charisma he had at the start of the battle.

"Stay out of this, Charlie." Alastor threatened the moment he saw her step closer.

Adam laughed, "Aww, did I kill your little crush? Too bad. Demons like you don't deserve happiness."

Charlie and the others all wondered what Adam was talking about; Alastor was obviously triggered again as he headfirst into Adam for another more personal attack. An obvious trap that cornered Alastor.

With his axe positioned to Alastor's neck, Adam stared down with a victorious grin, "Time to meet your little babe, right?"

Alastor let down his barrier, he couldn't explain why, but he just did it. Like a voice told him so or a feeling of a familiar presence.

The moment he did, the abandoned book you always bring around opened itself and the pages flew at Adam. Confusing him. He backed up and away from Alastor, trying to swat away the pages that were coming at him like mad.

A new figure emerged, two pairs of silver wings and a bright halo was the only thing Alastor could see. Though his sight was more focused on the way one of the pages sliced Adam's head off of his neck like butter. Alastor's red eyes followed the rolling head and falling body. With a tired back, he looked up at the figure.

"My... Dar....ling?"

"Yes, Alastor." You stepped closer to him, your pages fluttering around like harmless petals now, you kneeled down and gave him a hug as gently as possible to not put pressure on his pain.

"You're... back..." Alastor wrapped his hands around you to bring him closer to you, his body shook. "Am I... Is this... a dre...am?"

Your wings instinctively wrapped around him, glowing as they healed your wounded love. For the brief moment you had your new angelic powers, you were already using them like you had him your entire life. "No, Alastor. It's not a dream."

"Stay with me... Don't leave... me..."

You smiled, "I won't, Alastor. I'll miss you too much."

-------

Yes! An exact echo. Remember how in part 2 (I think) you tell him you missed him before entering your slumber mode? Yeah, it's happening here too.

The reason why I gave Reader/you two pairs of wings here is cause it shows power and authority. If you're not trapped as long as you were before, then something has to change, and that is your power and authority over the exterminations or specifically portal to Hell. Here, you're an angel that controls the entrance to Heaven and Hell. Think guardian, like that~

[dixons-sunshine]

“Claire?”

“No, I don’t really like that.”

“Mhm. Blaire, then?”

“Maybe, but I’m not so sure.”

“Trixie?”

“God, no. I’m not giving our child a hooker’s name.”

“Jesus, woman. M’runnin’ outta names ‘ere. Everythin’ I say is either ‘no’ or ‘maybe’. What’s a guy gotta do to get a ‘yeah’ ‘round ‘ere?”

You laughed and placed a tender kiss to the top of Daryl’s head, your fingers gently working through his hair. “I just don’t know. Besides, what makes you so certain our baby will be a girl?”

Daryl hummed and nuzzled his face deeper into your chest. “M’not certain,” he began, his fingers lightly tapping against your bump to a rhythm you didn’t know. “Jus’ still ponderin’ over boy names. None of ‘em seem right, y’know? If s’a boy, I want him to have a badass name.”

“DJ.”

Daryl slightly raised his head to look at you, his eyebrows quirked in interest. “DJ?”

“Yup,” you told him. “Daryl Junior.”

Daryl scoffed and laid his head back down on your chest. “Nah, we ain’t namin’ our kid after me. S’where I put my foot down.”

You chuckled in amusement. “What? I think it’s cute. Having a little you is a nice thing to think about.”

“Nah.” Despite his protest, Daryl couldn’t help the small smile that spread over his face at the suggestion. He would never give in, but he appreciated the thought. A little him. It was both thrilling and terrifying to think about. “How ‘bout Adam?”

It was your turn to scoff this time. “I thought you wanted our kid to have a badass name, not an I’m-about-to-do-your-taxes name.”

Daryl chuckled and shrugged nonchalantly. “I like it. S’not my fault yer so picky.”

You faked an offended gasp, lightly hitting him on the arm. “I’m not picky. I just don’t wanna give our kid a name that we’ll end up regretting.”

Daryl chuckled again. “Yeah, I know.” Daryl placed a soft kiss to your cheek before settling back into your chest again. “‘Sides, ya wouldn’t be the woman I fell in love with if ya weren’t jus’ the slightest bit picky.”

You smiled at him fondly. “I love you, Dar.”

“Love ya too, Sunshine.” A few minutes of silence passed between the two of you, and you had started to think that he had fallen asleep, until he spoke up again. “How ‘bout Leonard?” The sound of your groan had Daryl full-on laughing, a rare thing for the archer. “What? S’a good name.”

“Sure, if you say so.”

©dixons-sunshine 2024. I do not give permission for my works to be copied, modified, adapted or translated to any other site or platform without evidence of my given consent.

[ramennoodlezzzao3]

The outsiders as Sturniolo moments

————————————————————————————————————

Two-Bit: Birds. Will. Take. Over.

Ponyboy: What?

Two-Bit: If birds had enough-

Ponyboy: Two, birds wouldn’t be able to lift humans-

Two-Bit: PONY, THEY CAN FLY!

————————————————————————————————————

Johnny: If there’s not a baked treat under your ass, I don’t want to hear it

————————————————————————————————————

*Dally, Two-Bit, and Ponyboy sitting in the car talking randomly*

Two-Bit: Oh my god, this guy is sprinting-!

Dally: Toward us?…no he’s running that way

Two-Bit: Holy fuck this guys got speed!

Ponyboy: This guy’s got a bus to catch

*a few minutes later*

Two-Bit: Oh, that’s the guy who was running, what did he get? A cake?!

Dally: Oh, maybe a surprise party?

Ponyboy: I’ll go check *gets out of the car and runs over to ask the guy what he bought*

*Others Jaws drop*

Dally: IS HE SERIOUS?

————————————————————————————————————

*Johnny and Two-Bit sitting in a random parking lot*

Two-Bit: RAT! BIG RAT! BIGGEST RAT IVE EVER SEEN IN MY LIFE!

Johnny: *Face Palms*

————————————————————————————————————

(MODERN)

Darry: the other day, Sodapop came into my room and asked me “Hey Dar, why’s the Wi-if out” and I was like “I don’t know because I also don’t have Wi-fI”

Sodapop: Dar, can you-

Darry: *Slams cutting bored on table and start aggressively chopping carrots*

Darry: THEN I use my critical thinking skills and I go to the living room where the wi-if router is and Soda unplugged it-!

Steve: *starts uncontrollably giggling*

Darry: like, “OH, MAYBE THATS THE SOLUTION TO YOUR WI-FI PROBLEM!”

————————————————————————————————————

Two-Bit: Top three cheeses

Johnny: Vermont sharp, seriously sharp, mozzarella, and Parmesan

Two-Bit: that’s four

Johnny: I know, but-

Ponyboy: Colby Jack?

Johnny: COLBY JACK!?

————————————————————————————————————

Steve: Top three ways you wanna die

Sodapop: oh my god

Johnny: that’s upsetting

Two-Bit: yeah…

…

Dally: Probably blunt force trauma to the head

Ponyboy: What?!

————————————————————————————————————