#no need for a tent the bushes are his roof | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

writing-whump · 8 months ago

Text

Can't say no

Seline takes Isaiah to visit her parents. Isaiah can't say no and overeats on the food.

Isaiah waited for months to be invited to meet Seline's parents.

He instinctively knew it would be a big deal, change, and milestone. Something special.

Seline loved her parents. It was the kind of idyllic, loving, intimate relationship that he didn't see that much around, like a fairy tale.

So when she casually invited him to spend a weekend at her parents' for her mother's Name's Day. Isaiah almost choked on his coffee.

"What? Mom wanted to meet you for a long time already. And everyone is going to be home for grandma, so my brother and dad should be up and about too." She didn't look at him, putting her plate into the dishwasher. Meaning she knew exactly how special that moment was.

Maybe it was good that she announced it a day beforehand; otherwise, he would have spent the week stressing about it.

"Any tips or something I should watch out for?" he asked tentatively.

When they got into his car the following day on Friday afternoon.

Seline gave him an excited smile. "My parents are going to love you, don't worry." She leaned back in the seat for the about hour-long car ride to Bratislava. "They better do, otherwise I can't date you."

"I'm sorry?"

"I'm just saying if my parents don't like you, we can't be together," she said with a cheerful smile. "I know it sounds old-fashioned, modern pairs like to rebel against everyone's approval...but my mom will see right through you and dad will be quick to judge and my brother got taller this year too, so." Her eyes were sparkling with mischief, but he could tell it wasn't just teasing. There was something anxious and serious about that statement too. She really wanted this to work out.

Isaiah swallowed heavily, starting the car.

"They are the smartest most amazing, selfless people I know. Great judges of character. And they have been together since they were 18, so longer than not by now." She gave him a quick smile. "But you don't have to worry. They will love to have you."

Until they don't, he thought bitterly. This was actually even more serious than he realized.

This was a test.

Seline already made up her mind about how she felt about him, so now she wanted to see if she hadn't missed anything.

She put the music from her playlist on. It was the playlist she kept for him instead of the collection of songs they both liked. Must have been feeling a little guilty about scaring him in advance.

Isaiah steeled himself for the ride and the meeting. He would not fail her expectations—or theirs. If anything, he was good at pulling his best act together in stressful situations, and this one asked for full power investment.

The place was technically a village but connected to the capital city by a highway. It was more of a district than a village since the city was expanding in record time. But it was surrounded by sunflower and wheat fields and had the distinct small-town feel of one family-owned cake shop, one playground, one kindergarten, and one primary school with exactly one church. There were also lots of pathways through the fields and around them for bicycles.

This wasn't a bad place for wolves. Open space is just the right combination of chaos and nature with steady big houses with long gardens and high walls for a fence. Great way to make a wolf feel at home.

The Silverstein house wasn't the most beautiful or renovated one on the street, with a dark violent roof and wild bushes at the entrance. Isaiah would soon find out the comfort and beauty were reserved for the inside of the house instead of the front, since they didn't need jealous neighbours to make their life complicated.

Entering the fenced garden felt like a different world. It had a touch of everyone in it. The fleck of ground with herbs for the mother, the freshly cut grass and holes for golfing of the father. And the volleyball net and boxing bag hanging from the old walnut tree that was almost ripping the garage out of the ground.

Seline's parents were human. Isaiah knew this, but it still surprised him to sense their complete fragile humanity as they came to greet him.

Another complication was that they didn't speak German and only broken English. This excluded Isaiah from most conversations, though Seline's father, a tall, broad-shouldered man with elegant long fingers and nose, made his best effort to keep Isaiah engaged in a conversation.

It seemed to put Seline's mother at ease, cause she chatted her daughter's ears off in Slovak as she assigned her a salad to prepare.

Isaiah definitely needed to learn that language.

He was left watching everything from the table, offering to help peel the potatoes and cut the cucumber. The giggling told him they were talking about him.

At lunch, Seline well into full translation mode, explaining him everything anyone said or translating direct questions and Isaiah’s answers. This allowed Isaiah to think through everything he said carefully and watch the pair's expressions.

Seline's mother looked a lot like her. She had the same lion mane of blond hair, though with a little hawkish nose. Her blue eyes were a greener shade than Seline's, and she had a sober alertness to them in contrast to Seline's dreamy softness.

Isaiah had not pulled his shadow up once. It was dormant and steady at his feet. Human shaped the entire time, as was polite. He was pleased with the question from her father about whether he was really a wolf.

The family created a whole feast for him to eat. First, ham and cheese rolls shaped like snails, then grilled stakes of two kinds, very tasty livers, and three kinds of salads.

He could tell these people did everything deliberately, confidently, and with consideration. They made a well-synched team, completely tuned to each other.

He just couldn't really tell whose idea it was to serve so much food.

It reminded him of the happier days, though, when his mother still lived. Watching her lean against his father in the kitchen, playful taking his hand, or him spinning her to a radio song playing in the background. It was all so very happy until it ended. But here, it seemed, good endings existed.

The mother or father got him a new portion whenever he finished his plate. The father selected best pieces of grilled meat, sensitive he tried all parts. The mother kept adding his salads, so he had all three kinds at all times.

Despite the two barriers, maybe third if Seline's brother Dylan joined the party, Isaiah felt welcome. He felt like he was passing in these people's eyes and the more he listed to their translations, their business background, their thoughts behind getting their kids into schools in a state they didn't even speak the language of, their goals and dreams for the near future, their pride at their daughter's accomplishments - the more he liked them.

He was starting to be a little nervous about the constant flood of food.

How did they still have so much to left? He cleared his third serving of the meat and salad, hoping that would be it. His stomach was straining against his pants and he was more than grateful for wearing a bottom-up that hid the growing bulge. He had not eaten this must in years.

And then when they came with dessert. Two kinds. One chocolate pie and one creamy cake.

The cake was one that Seline made and the pie was the mother's special generational recipe. No way Isaiah could get out of eating both.

The mother scrutinised him the whole time. He barely stopped himself from tugging at his collar. He was overheated, and his lips hurt from all the smiling.

Some relief came with the afternoon coffee and Seline showing him where they would be staying. In her father's bedroom upstairs.

"I can't believe you ate all that," she said to him as they got their bags up the stairs. "My brother eats a ton right now, so mom thought she needed to prepare a lot to satisfy a wolf. What do you think? How do you like them?"

She had such an eager, open expression Isaiah had to smile. He was starting to understand how this situation came to be. A growing pup with an unsteady shadow definitely ate a lot. Apparently, her parents thought a grown wolf would actually need more.

He should have stopped that sooner instead of eating food for a whole party of people. His stomach wasn't hurting yet, but it was heavy and swollen, digestion completely overloaded as his gut tried to make sense of all the food he shoved into it.

"That's very kind of them," he said, sort of touched and horrified at his own predicament. He could feel pressure over his chest as burps tried to make their way up. He pushed them down decisively.

"What is the plan now?"

"Dad will play some golf, and I'll help mom with the kitchen. Then we could watch a movie. There is one I really want to show you that my parents really love. It's a Czech classic about a grandmother rising against a corrupt major. It's hilarious and scarily accurate." She winked at him, excited at the prospect. You can come with me or take some rest, and I'll call you."

Isaiah nodded gratefully, relieved to have a minute alone.

Seline left him with a goodbye kiss, bouncing on her heels as she walked.

The day was a success then.

The burp he pushed down came back with a vengeance, his belly twisting with a cramp.

Isaiah leaned against the cupboard for support, bending down in the middle. He was sweaty and breathless, his stomach still heavier and heavier as it caught up with its state.

He let out a couple of quiet burps, wincing at how they echoed over the room. Her father's room. God, this was entirely inappropriate.

Going through his pack, he couldn't find any shirts or pants that would be more loose-fitting. He went all formal with suits and bottom-ups. He only got his PJs as anything close to comfort, and he couldn't exactly get into those in the middle of the day.

Isaiah went to the bathroom to wash his face with cold water. That felt a little better, but the perspiration still clung to his neck and back. Maybe he could risk a shower.

Bracing over the sink ushered in a few more loud burps, which had him pressing his hand to his lips. The bathroom was right opposite the stairs, much more likely to carry the sound down.

He wrapped an arm around his stomach gingerly. Please, be nice. Don't make this harder.

His belly gurgled unhappily and he felt the salad mixing with the cake. He heaved over the sink at the horrid taste, willing himself not to throw up. That would be entirely disrespectful to the food.

He groaned quietly as his stomach settled back, churning angrily. The heaviness and pressure made it hard to stand upright. A dull but deep ache joined in, crawling up the top of his belly.

Isaiah made his way back to the bedroom. The fresh scent of the sheets on the bed and the lingering presence of Seline's father made him feel entirely gross and unfit to be here. Like he was intruding.

He followed his nose and instinct out to the other room.

The walls were painted a soft pastel blue and covered in shelves straining under books. There was an old TV with a new Chromecast set, a writing table, a small couch, a bean bag and a double bed. A room of one person who liked to change positions while reading.

Seline's childhood bedroom. Not even that long ago, it was still her main room.

The scent of rain and grapefruit drew him to the bed that had way too many pillows, big and small and two covers, cause she liked to use one to lift her head up when reading.

He fell face first into the familiar, beloved scent. His stomach let out an angry growl at being disturbed, so he had to roll onto his back quickly.

There was swirling nausea trailing behind the dull aching, his stomach swollen and taunt. Unmoving and heavy as if filled with cement.

He muffled a groan against his arm, looking around to distract himself with the pictures. Family photographs mixed with paintings of stormy sea waves in various shades of blue. On the doorframe, there was a series of magnets from different destinations.

Isaiah cradled his belly with his hands carefully. How was he supposed to be presentable, when they called him for the movie? He didn't know how he would even get up.

...

"Isaiah? Where are you?"

Isaiah groaned quietly at Seline's voice, informing her of his presence in her room.

Seline opened the door with a puzzled frown. "Baby? Is something wrong?"

Isaiah considered lying. He really didn't want to ruin this visit or her day or her parents' impression of him. But his stomach was gurgling and pulsing with pain and he just wanted...wanted her.

He turned to his side, arms protectively around his midsection without touching.

Must have made a miserable expression, because she crouched down next to the bed, stroking his cheeks. "You don't have a fever...do you feel sick? If you felt sick before and didn't tell me, Isaiah, I swear-"

Yep, that was a worse option. "No- I just-uuuurp-ate too much." He squeezed his eyes shut, feeling greasy with sweat. "I wouldn't come visit your parents if I felt sick, come on," he said defensively, though it came out more as a whine.

This was so humiliating. A stomach flu he could survive, because he could do nothing against it. But this? This was entirely his fault and he felt amazingly stupid for it.

Her eyes widened. "Aww sweetie, I'm sorry. Your tummy is upset?"

He nodded, pressing the side of his face into the pillows. "I'm fine, just...think I could just sleep it off and be all good tomorrow- think you could find an excuse-"

"Yes, of course. That's no problem. Sweetie, mom has really good enzymes for indigestion and the herbal drops or I can make you fresh mint tea-"

He shook his head at the idea of putting anything into his stomach. It already felt like he was going to pop, skin strained at the top. "Please, don't tell your parents," he begged quietly.

"Oh baby, come on. They wouldn't be mad. There is nothing to it. Wouldn't it be worth it, if it helped with the pain? Just give me a minute and I'll-"

When she tried to stand up, he grabbed her by the wrist. "Please. Please?"

Seline frowned in disapproval, eyes blazing, but he must have looked pitiful enough. She sighed. "Okay. You are an idiot, though. Is there anything I can do?"

Isaiah let out a relieved sigh that almost morphed into a burp, curling more into himself. "I'm fine. Go watch the movie."

She shook her head. "You are such a dumbass sometimes."

He blinked at the words, mildly offended.

Seline walked behind him, shuffling in her wardrobe. "I have some oversized shirts here that could fit you. Let's get you out of that shirt, okay?"

He watched her in confusion as she got out a really oversized woolen shirt for him, then sat down on the edge of the bed, unceremoniously unzipping his pants.

"What are you- Ohhhh." The relief from the pressure almost made him dizzy, his stomach bubbling at having more space.

"Yep," she said with a half-smile, pulling his pants down completely so he was only left in his boxers. "Dumbass, as I said."

"M not," he groaned, not feeling like being teased, the embarrassment leaving a bitter taste in his mouth. He struggled with the bottoms before stripping the shirt off over his head and sliding into the offered one. Not bothering with the buttons at all, he lied back down.

Seline opened the balcony and promptly climbed under the covers with him, spooning him from behind. She kissed the back of his neck, her arm coming over his head on the pillow to pet the hair on his forehead.

Isaiah cringed at how sweaty and disgusted he must have been to her, but he couldn't help melting under her touch. Her gentle fingers on his face were the most enjoyable sensation of the day.

With her face pressed into his back as she curled his slightly wavy hair around her fingers, she asked: "Would a belly rub help?"

He considered the question, too far gone in how grumbly and achy his stomach was to give in to the other mortified part of his brain. He rolled to his back, his belly sloshing with the movement as it pressed against her.

She chuckled softly. One hand was still up in his hair, stroking a line from his temple to his cheek. The other came to rest gently on top of his packed stomach. Tentative. Gentle.

When he arched his back into her touch, she put more weight on it. She felt around his stomach with her fingers, then started to rub gentle circles under his ribs. Long strokes going clockwise from his right side of the abdomen to his left side and down.

Isaiah squirmed under her hands as his stomach grumbled loudly, a series of bubbles making their way up. He struggled against the air.

Seline gave him a look, thumping his chest. That ushered up a loud burp. He gasped for air, blood rushing into his face. "I'm sorry-"

"Stop apologizing. How else is it supposed to help? You got too much air trapped in your tummy. I can feel it."

Isaiah shifted in discomfort, cheeks on fire. He pressed his forehead against the crook of her neck.

Seline returned to the broad, gentle strokes over the bulge. Isaiah didn't fight the next burp that came up, hiding his face out of view as the hot air clashed against her collarbone. She chuckled softly, kneading into the flesh. "It's okay, sweetheart. This will help."

She truly didn't seem to mind, pressing against him like that, even giving a little kiss to the back of his head she could reach.

His stomach groaned unhappily, but his muscles relaxed. The tautness gave into softness under her touch, and he could feel the heaviness moving downward, with each new bubbly burp creating more space.

He turned back on his back as a truly big pressure worked its way up his throat, cupping his mouth. A long, rumbly belch came up, muffled by his hand.

"Feeling better?" she asked, rolling closer. Her chin came to rest on his shoulder and she wrapped one hand around his neck and the other on his stomach.

He nodded against her, not trusting himself to speak, but he didn't feel so packed and tense anymore. "I'm sorry, that was so gr-"

"Don't even say it," she cut him off resolutely. "I forbid such lies." She nuzzled her cheek against his.

Isaiah breathed out in relief, bringing her closer with his arm around her neck. His midsection was still swirling, but it was a much more peaceful, harmonic sound.

He kissed her forehead, closing his eyes. It was surprisingly tiring to eat so much, but this was actually...nice. Comforting.

Three words insistently pressed themselves to his mind: He loved the way this girl smelled, the way she could make him feel better, her touch, her eyes. Her voice. Her body against his.

I love this girl so much.

His heart sped up at the thought and he held her tighter, not saying anything. Not yet anyway.

#sickfic #overeating #upset belly #belly rubs #comfort #werewolf wip #my writing #Isaiah

42 notes · View notes

sicklyseraphnsuch · 1 year ago

Text

TW: character death; blood

When Simon regained his wits, he finds no sign of the vampire lady that enthralled him. He also has no idea how long he's been under his thrall. He finds himself waking up to an empty, patchwork room. The walls were made from broken pieces of cement, assembled together like a giant jigsaw puzzle. Thin sheets of tin metal was laid on top of the walls to resemble a roof, and barely managed to prevent exposure. Damp dirt, just dry enough to avoid becoming mud, served as the floor, with layers and layers of newspapers to act as some form of insulation.

Yet despite the lack of proper resources, someone ensured this post-apocalyptic shelter contained personal touches. Crayon drawings and half written lyrics were pinned on most flat surface. A mattress of scrap cloth was laid out beneath him, sewn together with wide clumsy stitches. And lying next to him, as if to keep him company, there sits a stuffed toy - its long, threadbare limbs fraying at the edges.

Simon woke up in Marceline's home. But Marceline was nowhere to be found. His hand automatically reaches up to his head, and his fingers brush the cold kiss of metal. She didn't take it off. Now, what could that mean? And where has Marcy gone? And why hasn't she come back?

He jumps to his feet, storms out the shelter, and runs - runs - runs. The sweet whispers of frost - no, shut up! Shut up! Something is wrong! He needs to go. Where? He doesn't - the Empress. She would know! He reaches into the Crown, pushing past its cold promises and seizes the heart of its power. He summons a howling wind that nearly knocks him off his feet before it carries him up and over and far - further - faster!

The sun is a sliver of orange in the horizon. The stars are already twinkling in the indigo sky. And perhaps, it would have been better if light had completely abandoned him - the whole damn universe already saw fit to forsake him, why not light as well? A shroud of immutable darkness would have shielded him from... from...

Simon never reaches the Empress - never finds her in whatever den of depravity she dug for herself. As a self-styled expert on lost and forgotten things, he is doomed to find precisely what he's looking for.

He spies an abandoned camp - torn tents and tossed supplies. He hears screaming - men, women, children. No, that's not important. No. There - pressed against the trees all broken and bent, there is a little girl. Except, she's not so little anymore. It's been years. He left her. He left her.

She was supposed to be safe.

He lands, soft as if afraid to wake her. But her eyes are wide open, staring sightlessly into the distance. A sharp thing - he cannot look. Her shirt is soaked through - there's so much. Her hand holds a stake - she hasn't let go.

Time stops for Simon Petrikov. His thoughts fade to depthless black. His body becomes a distant memory. The world dissolves around him like snowflake melting in his palm.

It's dark now. The sun sunk a long, long time ago. In the lack of light, he could almost, almost believe that he was looking at someone else - anyone else. This could be another girl with black hair, pointed ears, and grey skin. This could be another daughter of a different man.

The axe damns him. Its sharp blade nestled deep into her chest, sliding straight into the tree. The axe is bright red and sharper than the Devil's tongue.

She was supposed to be safe.

She was supposed to be protected.

She was supposed to have her father.

tHe CrOwn HuMS.

It sears with power, balancing on a precipice, awaiting his command. He only needs to ask. His will be done.

A branch snaps to his left. The bushes rustle as a creature leaps out, long fangs ready to sink into its next meal. Poor thing. It freezes mid-air, neither feet will ever touch the ground again.

Frost begins to sweep and curl across the ground. It swallows whole everything it touches - every leaf, every worm, every creature in its path. It crawls through the veins, solidfying lungs, entombing hearts. The living and the dead and everything else in between - all turn to ice.

No one is screaming now.

Simon grabs hold of the axe. His fingers brush against the embedded strings - her work, undoubtedly. He grits his teeth, letting every curse and cry rot within his throat. He pulls.

How does that old saying go? When hell freezes over? Well.

Simon can answer that one, can't he?

#adventure time #fionna and cake #simon petrikov #marceline the vampire queen #winter is coming

30 notes · View notes

remyfire · 1 year ago

Note

Margaret and Bj go to Maine. thoughts?

Real. I was there. I was perched across the street on a roof with binoculars and I clapped and hooted and hollered and then fell into a bush.

I have a million simultaneous postwar universes flying through my head at all times, but in many of them, I do think Hawk falls off the face of the earth for a little bit. Both him and BJ have a difficult time readjusting in those first few weeks, much less longer, but I think BJ is inevitably forced to get into the groove of something because there's no way he can just check out for very long with the presence of a toddler and a working wife, because he's sure as fuck not working for a while, and if he tries, it goes very very badly for him. I feel like BJ's more likely to lean into negative coping mechanisms that let him feel present, even if it bites him in the ass after a while.

Hawk, though, he has Daniel. He has a father who can basically putter around with him, take care of him. I always see Crabapple Cove as maybe a bit more rural-coastal than others might, and particularly the Pierces who bought a house near the edge of town before it continued expanding outward away from them, and so there's a lot of silence. It's easier to be isolated. It's easier to check out and let the entire day pass by.

I do think that BJ is the first one to realize that he can't stay too far away from the phone, wondering, hoping. And I do think that Margaret eventually gives him a call because she can't get in touch with Hawkeye. And I do think that BJ catastrophizes, assumes the worst, makes a dozen foolish decisions to find his way there because of his fear, and Margaret, who has always been more nurse than soldier—more caregiver than fighter, so sure that she knows how to handle someone best rather than a true delegater—finds her way just the same.

And I do think that when Daniel steps away to give them some privacy, when they're hovering over Hawk, tentatively fearing the worst—that he's broken again, that it's going to be impossible to get the man they love so desperately back, even if they don't have the words to admit it yet—Hawk finally has the safety to break down like he needs, held so closely that he can't feel, smell, see, hear, taste anything but them.

There no certainties of what comes after. The waters are murky. But in that moment, at least, as they sink into each other like a crumbling facade, it's a first step of healing for all of them.

#ahh that was fun thank you #anyway yes anon this is everything and it's real to me absolutely #my ramblings #my writing

5 notes · View notes

audible--silence · 2 years ago

Text

Sayu/GDL quotes / promises to self while drunk as shit

Que eres un baño?!

“Im so used to shit going wrong that it just doesnt phase me anymore”

“If i go into an office job id have to wake up in the morning, which i just don't wanna do”

A bar without a manager

Nothing feels better than going home but nothing feels better than leaving home too.

“Be a traveler not a tourist”

“I been keepin busy! No idea what with though. I just been smokin joints playing guitar and surfing”

One more bus

One more uber

One more hostel check in

One more round of storytelling how we got here

One more gig

A few more beers

Una mas cerveza

One more night

Una mas noche

No more waves

No more taco stands

No more in jokes

No more calling directions in spanish

No more setting up the tent in excitement

No more packing down the tent in a hurry

No more Duolingo sessions in a hammock

No more chess games

No more joints rolled at the last minute

No more joints smoked at all hours of the day

No more “you hungry?”

No more tracking down vegetables

No more long bus rides spent sharing snacks

No more movies on your shit tablet

No more pringles, principe and stoner snacks

No more reminding each other to get our shit together

No more jamming guitar

No dancing while doing simple tasks

No more of your tunes

No more guac n beer

No more two aussie dickheads

“Phone wallet shoes nothing on my head that im gonna lose”

“Adios Cabron”

“His drip dope, you gotta be 70% homeless, 20% gay to be fly”

“Whats the 10%?”

“Opium”

“Stoner! I choose you!!”

“Yeah well, fuck off” on cross cultural relatability

hope is a hell of a drug

The enemy was defeated, in a valiant battle with three little Mexican girls with long hair and cute gold glasses, not far from the stargazers, at midday, with ice cream. Or the youthful romantics, an archetype that seems to transcend every culture since society itself. Watched on in silence by the cute, erratic yet robotic, overly friendly squirrels. A picnic without snacks, soundtracked by Jeff Buckley in the shade of a well watered bush

Manifestation is gaslighting yourself

The heat of hell is ever so slightly warmer for you isnt it”

“You sound like a constitution”

“We need to rebrand politics but with much more sex”

“Dont smoke”

W dart in mouth

“A bar for a football team that never wins, for fans that never succeed”

“If you commit suicide you cant go to the pub”

a british guy

“Yeah but if you commit suicide, guess where we go? The fucking pub”

another british guy

A game of football can mean two very different things depending on who’s watching

A taco is only as a good as what you can put on it

Am i going to regret not going out? Enjoying it all? Being young n stupid in Mexico and everywhere else?

Will I regret not knowing what any of these drunk messages to self mean? Probably.

Booze is fuel for survival. I am a bartender who hates going out. A socialite who cannot stand socializing.

words from a drunk aus fuck in Mexico, solo, with a kiss on the cheek and a cuddle”

“Its fuxkin mexixo ya prick”- on uber eats, n walkin for street food

2.12 - the minute of the end of the phonecall w ya nan, the only pure soul left in ya life

Thanks for finding me phone - from a welsh cunt who likes flashing his dick

I love thinking while drunk because I don’t have to deal with the realizations

Chinga su madre but with a car horn

“We’ve literally sat down all day”

“Thats what traveling is about. Traveling halfway across the world just to sit down”

dive bars, tacos with drunks and adele on the roof till 4am

“I dont identify as American I identify as a marxist”

The more decrepit and dilapidated the restaurant looks, the better the food is.

Weathered hands make the food, not fresh paint on the walls

“Theres more to life than dating everyone you meet, i guess”

“I either need tequila or a sweater and im not sure which it is”

“The cartels comin” shoot ya drink

“You look good bro!”

“Are you drunk?”

“No, he’s just happy”

deja vu from a rooftop w some beautiful Mexicanos in GDL

“How dare you show so much grace so many time zones away”

feel like we gon spend the rest our lives searching for the thrill of skating to the ellenbrook hungry jacks at midnight for snacks while on a videogame bender

Lessons from seeing your favorite band in a new place: It’s better with your friends. In the place you came to love them, even if its less fun

“We have this saying in Mexico that says “Las bonitas tambien quiermbaila“ which means “the pretty woman also wants to dance”

3 notes · View notes

cockslutpadalecki · 4 years ago

Text

‘Til Death Do Us Part

Summary: Y/N heads back to the home she once shared with Steve in preparation to spend one last night together before their divorce is due to be finalised. Little does she know that her husband doesn’t intend to give her up. Ever.

Characters: Dark!Steve x Reader.

Words: 3391.

Warnings: non-con, dub-con, explicit sexual content, mentions of drugging, manipulation, gaslighting, implied forced pregnancy, slight breeding kink, forced orgasms, multiple orgasms, mentally abusive relationship tw, 18+.

A/N: Written for @stargazingfangirl18‘s amazing 5K Soft!Dark Challenge. I chose dialogue prompt #3 (”Oh, honey, you weren’t supposed to see that”) and it is highlighted in bold. Siri, I can’t tell you how much of a blast it was to write this! Thank you so much for hosting, and many congratulations on your 5K milestone - you deserve every single one of them. Beta: @sweeterthanthis but all the general bullshit is entirely mine. I also have to thank you Lau for being the greatest support and enabler. You are truly a ray of sunshine on a stormy day. While likes are gold, feedback is golden. Masterlists can be found in my pinned post. Subscribe to Patreon and get access to fics, just like this one, two weeks before Tumblr for as little as $3.

Somehow you expect the family home to look different in a way— like the roof should be sporting some devil’s breath while the ground suddenly gives way to brimstone as a way of signifying its metaphorical descent into hell, but as you step from the cab straight onto the sidewalk, it looks the same as you left it four months ago.

Sure, there’s leaves blocking the gutter, the bushes leading up to the porch look a little unruly and the lawn could do with a trim, but really they’re only surface deep differences, ones you probably never would have noticed had you stayed put.

The real change you figure, would be inside, buried within the woodwork like rot, much like the person residing inside it, a malevolent kind of darkness laying claim to their soul.

The house still looks like something plucked right out of a fairytale, its entire presence cosy and inviting. You just wish you hadn’t been the one to abandon it.

Memories flood your thoughts— you could recall the day you moved in like it was yesterday, just like the moment Steve proposed to you on the front porch, and that first step across the threshold as a married couple will live with you until the day you die, no matter how hard you do your best to block it out.

Pushing open the white gate, you take a slow walk up the path, each step hesitant and tentative, unsure if coming back here was the right thing to do. You need those divorce papers, your inner voice reminds you curtly. Then you can get the hell outta here and put this all behind you.

You’d been Mrs. Rogers for the better part of five years, and to begin with, it had been the perfect marriage. Steve was a model husband and lover, but over the time the cracks started to show. He became possessive and controlling, desperate to know where you were at any given time of day when you weren’t with him. He told you what you could and couldn’t eat, controlled the intake of your calories, and eventually he dictated your meals to the last crumb.

He was a master manipulator— breaking off your friendships with your nearest and dearest from right under your nose, using your own hands to chop the strings from the “puppets” he called them. But little did you know, you were Steve’s toy all along. Moulded into his perfect little wife who wouldn’t dare put a foot out of line.

It wasn’t until you had to travel for work— a situation Steve did his best to quash, that you came to your senses when a co-worker innocently commented on the unhealthy dependency you seemingly had on your husband, after calling to apologise that you hadn’t checked in with him, despite the fact you had been caught up in meetings all day.

She became concerned for you, asking you to seek help from friends and you admitted they had all drifted away, not realising you were the one to create the wedge in the first place.

That was the first piece of the jigsaw to fall from its place, until more began to slip, giving you a glimpse into the harsh reality below it.

You eventually escaped his clutches three months later.

Six weeks passed before you served the divorce papers, citing unreasonable behaviour on his part. Steve seemingly accepted them without causing a ruckus like you expected, instead only asking of you a simple request.

It had been a long day at the office the night his text came through, a renowned sense of fear clasping at your heart the minute you saw his name pop up on your phone screen. You left it an hour before you summoned up the courage to open it, the two glasses of red wine helping to steady to your nerves. You expected something malicious, but what flashed up before you was far from it.

“Come back for one last night? I’ll take you to dinner at Romanoff’s then home for a movie? It’ll be just like old times.”

While you were initially dubious, you couldn’t help feel an odd sense of nostalgia, almost wanting to relive your old date nights. Before things turned sour.

So here you are, staring up at the house you once longed to raise your children in as the front door swings open and Steve appears, rushing down the steps as a wide grin pulls at his lips.

“Oh honey, you made it,” he greets happily, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to your cheek. You stiffen at his touch, desperate to push him away but you hold your nerve, instead returning his smile when he retreats. “How was the train ride?”

You’d been living in the city since the separation, eager to put as much distance between the two of you, and so far it was doing the trick.

“It was fine, thank you,” you reply politely as he reaches to take your overnight bag, turning to take two porch steps at a time. You follow nervously, unnerved by his overly kind demeanour.

“Great,” he dismisses quickly, before calling over his shoulder, “so I set up the guest bedroom for you, y’know, remember, the one across the hall from the nursery.”

He’s babbling excitedly like you’re coming home for good, and you feel like you have to interject before he’s forcing you to pick out new China patterns for the dinnerware.

“Steve—”

He glances back at you. “Hm?”

“Maybe I should stay at the hotel like we planned,” you say hesitantly, not missing the way his jaw ticks.

“Don’t you want to stay here? In our home?”

The emphasis on ‘our’ makes you wince, but you do your best to hide it.

“It’s not that, um, I just think it might be prudent given our impending situation, that we should, maybe set some boundaries?”

Your soon-to-be-ex husband laughs, “Oh, don’t be so dramatic.”

Years ago, that almost overly confident scoff would’ve had you reeling with arousal, but now it simply fills you with dread.

“Are we not going to Romanoff’s now?” you call out, smoothing out your dress as you reach the bottom of the stairs, catching sight of the dinner table set with two place settings.

Steve appears from the kitchen, clutching a bottle of wine and two glasses, and smiles when his eyes land on you.

“Wow, you look... wow,” he compliments with a deep exhale.

A creeping heat blooms in the pit of your stomach, slowly weaving its way up your spine until it settles beneath the skin in your cheeks.

“Th-thank you,” you fluster.

Steve moves from where he stands, gently placing the glasses and bottle down onto the table. You step from the last stair, edging slowly towards it. You have to admire the attention to detail— the vase full of tulips in an array of colours, the stack of takeout boxes from your favourite Chinese restaurant, its emblem clear on the cardboard, and of course, the gentle soundtrack of love songs playing quietly through the sound system. If you didn’t know better, you’d think he planned this out from the start, but you quickly squash down your suspicions almost intrigued to see what else he has up his sleeve.

“So, what happened to the restaurant?” you begin to question, rounding the table as Steve lays out the cartons next to your respective places.

“What about it?”

“I thought we had a reservation there.”

You watch him move a fork with the tip of his index finger about a centimetre closer to the plate, and you can tell he’s purposely avoiding eye contact.

“Oh, I couldn’t get one,” he replies flippantly.

“I could’ve sworn you said you did.”

Steve shrugs, “Nope. Fully booked.” He finally looks up at you, brow furrowed. “I thought I told you that?”

“No, you—” you stop yourself mid-sentence, and shake your head, deciding right now is really not the time to pick an argument. “Never mind, I must’ve been mistaken.”

Steve flashes you a wide smile, and pulls out a chair for you like the gentleman that he is— was. This show might easily convince someone else he’s a good man, but it just proves to you how flawlessly he can act the part when needed.

“C’mon sit down, food’s getting cold,” you hear him say, his voice dragging you from your temporary reverie, and you slide into it without a word.

Hours go by, and you hate to admit that you’re enjoying Steve’s company more than you had in years. He’s charming in all the ways you remember, and it’s difficult not to fall for it.

It starts with longing looks over the rim of wine glasses while in the midst of reminiscing about the slew of disastrous dates you’ve shared over the years. Then came the accidental touches as you both reach for a handful of popcorn from the bowl on the coffee table. And laughter soon comes naturally as you recall a particular trip to Atlantic City, remembering how the poorly cooked shellfish at an All You Can Eat had made you both sick.

“We had some good times, didn’t we?” Steve sighs softly.

“Yeah, we did.”

“Some pretty great times too,” he adds, and shifts closer to you, sliding his hand across your thigh. You glance up, catching his eye and before you know it, his lips slam against yours. You lose yourself in the moment, hands snaking around his neck as Steve groans into the kiss, pulling you quickly into his lap. You grind down hard, feeling the pure muscle of his thigh push against your cunt, whimpering as it rubs over your clit just right.

His hands rove your body through your dress, one slowly coming to rest at the nape of your neck, while the other settles around your waist, using the grasp he has to help control the roll of your hips.

“God, Y/N,” Steve moans into the juncture of your neck, and the sound of his voice suddenly brings you back to your senses. You pull away, staring down into bright cerulean before you hurriedly begin to climb off his lap.

He looks confused as you slump back onto the couch next to him, breathless. “What’s wrong?”

“We shouldn’t,” you explain, “I mean, I don’t think this is a good idea.”

He slowly exhales through kiss-swollen lips, nodding in agreement. “No, you’re probably right.”

As you adjust the straps of your dress Steve had hastily slid from your shoulders, you watch him stand from his seat and not-so subtly rearrange his pants before grabbing the empty wine glasses from the table.

“How about one more before we call it a night?” you hear him shout as he heads back into the kitchen.

“I should go to bed,” you say firmly. “Have to get up early to get the train back, work is pretty hectic at the moment.”

You push yourself to your feet a little unsteadily, and in the process of smoothing out your dress, you catch sight of Steve pouring you another drink anyway. You’re about to protest when he returns to the living room, handing you the glass.

You put your hands up to resist. “Really, I’m fine, Steve.”

“C’mon darling, we may never see each other again after tonight. Just give me this, please?” His tone is too mirthful, too full of glee and it unnerves you.

Darling?

You sit back down, and thanks to his persistence, you now feel a little on edge. He tries to make conversation, and you do your best to humour him, but all you can summon up are one word answers and nonchalant responses.

“I’m a little insulted you’re not drinking your wine,” he suddenly announces casually. “I even made sure to get your favourite.”

Wrong.

This was white. It had been white all evening.

Red was your favourite.

Glancing down into the glass, the wine swills gently from the motion of your hand, and your eyes are drawn to an odd film on the surface of the liquid. What is that? Perhaps the glass was dirty in some way and it reacted with the alcohol?

You squint a little as if it will miraculously make your eyesight better, but without bringing it right up to your nose and drawing attention to it, you can’t be exactly sure what it is. Instead, you decide to rest the glass in your lap and hope that Steve won’t notice you’ve yet to take a sip.

Your eyes move from the centre of the glass to the outer edge, and you notice a sprinkling of white powder dusting the rim. No, that’s not... it can’t be— he wouldn’t.

Fear grips your heart like an icy vice, and your legs suddenly go numb as a horrific realisation dawns on you.

“Is something wrong?” he enquires, watching you intently from over his glass as he sips on his own.

“No, just,” — your eyes flicker down without even realising it, before they find their way back to Steve’s, and you can tell he knows you’ve noticed something is awry— “think I’ve had my share for the night.”

Leaning forward, you slide the glass back onto the coffee table, and the moment Steve’s eyes too clock the powdery substance, his demeanour changes instantly.

“Oh, honey, you weren’t supposed to see that,” he comments darkly.

You cough, clearing your throat and try your best to sound convincing. “See what?” you squeak.

The silence between you is deafening as you both weigh up when the other is likely to react. Deciding now is your moment, you jump off the couch despite the lack of feeling to your legs and attempt to flee, but Steve is too fast. His fingertips graze your ankle as he reaches for it, and you fall to the floor with a loud thud.

He grabs at your shoulder, and flips you onto your back, crawling up the length of your body on his knees, effectively caging you beneath him. You lift your arms, slapping at Steve’s biceps to fight him off as he grabs at your wrists, pinning them above your head.

“You really thought you could walk away from me?” He leans over you, the warmth of his breath fanning across your cheek. “That you could divorce me?”

“Steve, you don’t have to do this,” you plead.

“Oh, but I do.”

“Nobody has to know this happened, I’ll just take the papers and leave.”

His laugh is quiet and mean. “You can try, but you’ll have to sieve the ashes out of the fireplace.”

You can feel the blood drain from your face at his words.

“Please,” you implore, “just let me go.”

“Are you insane?” he scoffs. “I’m never letting you out of my sight again.”

Your husband shifts above you, using one knee at a time to move between your parted thighs to keep them spread while one hand keeps hold of your wrists, the other working its way down your body until it reaches the hem of your dress.

“Why are you doing this?”

Gently, you start to sob, and for a moment you think you see a flicker of remorse in his eyes as he looks down at you.

“Because we’re meant to be together, silly. Why else?” he says in a honeyed tone, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “For better, for worse, ‘til death do us part, remember? Do our vows mean nothing to you?”

“They did once,” you strain beneath him, “right up until you started controlling my life.”

He lets out an airy chuckle, like you just told him the funniest joke in the world. “You’re confused, sweetheart. I did all of that to protect you, I only wanted what was best for you.”

“Bullshit,” you spit.

His features harden, eyes clouding over from stunning blue to inky navy. “Watch your language.”

Cold air kisses your flesh as Steve roughly tugs your dress up around your waist. You try to close your legs, however his knees are pressed so tightly to the insides of your thighs that it’s impossible. He takes a moment to glance down at your clothed pussy before letting out a deep laugh.

“I dunno, you come here all dressed up like this,” — his fingers delicately skim under the string of the thong that’s snug against your hip— “and you really expect me not to take what’s mine?”

“I d-don’t...” you splutter, “belong to you.”

He chuckles, and brings your restrained hands down, and shoves your wedding ring in your face, the subtle diamond sparkling in the low light like a fucking traitor.

“I think this says you do, honey.”

As you blink away the tears in your eyes, he moves your hands back above your head, the fingers of his free hand teasing the black lace of your panties, moving it to one side to allow him access. You try to wriggle up the floor, but he has you pinned too tight. Steve fumbles between your legs briefly, and the dull snap of his belt buckle releasing meets your ears. Quickly, you feel the head of his cock press hot and wet against your folds, and swallow deeply, ashamed by the pool of arousal slick between them.

“And because you’re my wife that means I can take this sweet, little cunt whenever the hell I damn well please.”

He enters you in one, sharp thrust, your body betraying you as your walls hungrily allow for his girth.

“That’s more like it,” he praises, rutting forward and you let out a strangled moan. “Always were a whore for my cock.”

Your words trap in your throat as he fucks you— slow, deliberate strokes that make your thighs tremble either side of his. He knows what he’s doing, using his intimate knowledge of your body to drag every painstaking ounce of pleasure from you, whether you want it or not. He lets go of your wrists, and while the opportunity to lash out at him is strong, all your fight has evaporated. Steve suddenly shifts above you, leaning back on his haunches to prop your ass up onto his thighs. Your body reacts involuntarily at the change in depth, unsuccessfully swallowing down a scream, which merely serves to turn him on even more.

Each thrust of Steve’s hips draws you closer to coming, and even though you try your hardest to concentrate your thoughts elsewhere, it’s no use. His thumb settles over your clit, swirling it in lazy circles as he continues to impale you on his cock.

Harder. Deeper. Faster.

Fuck, you’re not going to be able to hold on for much longer.

“Stop, Steve, please,” you beg pathetically, unable to tell if you’re begging him to leave you alone, or that you wish he’d shift his caress a millimetre to the right so that you can reach delirium.

“Are you gonna cum for me, honey? Cum for your husband like the good, little obedient wife you are?” he taunts, every swipe of his thumb coaxing you closer.

You can feel it, right on the edge of your periphery. A slow ascent, then suddenly the coil inside you snaps, the whole room thrown off kilter as you shatter into a million rapturous pieces.

Steve fucks you through it with levity, every euphoric wave of pleasure magnified as he hits that same sweet spot over and over until your vision whites out, and you’re coming again without warning.

“See? See how good I make you feel,” he says as you return from your high, body still trembling around his cock. “I know you, inside and out.”

Dragging his hand away from your clit, he strokes it lovingly over your exposed stomach, and the gentleness of his touch makes you want to retch.

“Just wait ‘til I pump a baby into this belly,” he smiles. “Then we’ll be part of each other forever.”

Your eyes widen, believing you have him foiled in his plan thanks to the bottle of pills stashed in your overnight bag, but somehow he inexplicably knows what you’re thinking, and the next words out of his mouth make your blood run cold.

“Oh sweetheart, I swapped out your birth control for vitamins months ago.”

***

Marvel: @adreamemporium @andreasworlsboring101 @clemanime @cake-writes @chamberofsloths @caringparker @caspleasesavemyass @caffiend-queen @drabblewithfrannybarnes @doctor-hp-mcu @deanwinchesterswitch @fanngirl19 @fandom-princess-forevermore @imanuglywombat @joseyrw @la-cey @negans-wife @opheliadawnwalker3 @the-iceni-bitch @threeminutesoflife @stargazingfangirl18 @smokeandnailz @superblychaoticdragon @sapphirescrolls

Forever: @akumune @amandamdiehl @buttercandy16 @crashdevlin @castiel-has-bees @daughterofthenight117 @donnaintx @danneelsmain @dandywinchesterbras @dumbbitchenergy17 @death-unbecomes-you @doozywoozy @foxyjwls007 @hurricanerin @hoewkeye @heyyouwiththeassbutt @ilovefanfic86 @itsjustfics @itsthedoctah10 @imyournewfairygodmother @imcastiel-youassbutt @jewelswrites-ish @jenmisheels-bi-kid @letsby @letsdisneythings @multi-fandom-fanfiction @maddiepants @mogaruke @my-fav-imagines-17 @nightsbite @notyourtypicalrose @onethirstyunicorn @pink1031 @princessmisery666 @petitgateau911 @randomparanoid @ssworldofsw @sambucky8 @sea040561 @sillygoose6969 @sweeterthanthis @softie-socks @slutformarvelmen @that-one-gay-girl @warriorqueen1991 @xoxabs88xox @zpandaqueen

#siris5ksoftdarkchallenge #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #dark!steve rogers x you #dark!steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #mcu fanfiction #dark marvel fanfiction #dark mcu fanfiction

2K notes · View notes

imagines-fandom · 3 years ago

Text

I love you, dumbass (Daryl Dixon x reader)

Note- this is going to be a long imagine

Pairings- Daryl x reader, Glenn x platonic!reader

Summary- Daryl and reader get into a fight before he leaves for the hunting trip. they don't make up until after the herd took over the quarry.

Warnings- usual walking dead violence, swearing, arguing, brief mention of nightmares

The thought of telling Daryl Dixon the only person he has left in this world was handcuffed on a roof in the big city made me sick. I couldn’t imagine what I would do if that was me. Probably beat the shit out of whoever left him.

The thought of us leaving on bad terms was soon to follow. Whenever I volunteer to go on runs with Glenn or do anything remotely dangerous, he’s very quick to tell me no. He tells me no as if he has that authority over me. Instead of brushing it off like I usually do, I snapped.

I tried nicely to tell him off. I wished the words had come out that way. Daryl and I have grown close over these last 3 months. We’ve bonded over hunting and having shitty childhoods. I no doubt developed a crush on him. I think at this point everyone knows but him. He isn’t the best with girls...or people in general.

When you break down his walls, you get to see a different side of him. I see a sarcastic, sweet, protective man. Let’s not forget his good looks. His ocean blue eyes never fail to give me butterflies. The group sees the short fused, stubborn and hot headed side of him. He’ll say what comes to mind not caring who hears it. He’s a lot like his brother, Merle.

In the end, I decided to skip out on this run. I woke up covered in sweat from an unpleasant nightmare. I was the only one to die that day from getting stuck in a group of walkers. I decided to stay back. Jacqui took my place. Only one good thing came out of that day. Lori’s husband, Rick, reunited with her and Carl.

They thought he was dead this whole time. He suffered a bullet wound to the abdomen. Since the world ended, no one was there to take care of him. Somehow he pulled through. I’d be terrified if I woke up from a coma to a shitshow like this. I woke up bright and early the next morning. It’s kind of hard to sleep in a tent with a million birds around you.

Everyone was eating breakfast and getting a start to their day. That was until screams of children filled the air. I grabbed my knife as I started to sprint to the source of the screams. Several people were running alongside me. Jacqui was watching them at the edge of camp. A small group went to check out why everyone was screaming. In a tiny clearing next to a couple of boulders, was a walker.

It was hunched over the neck of a deer. The deer had multiple arrows sticking out of it’s thigh. They were Daryl’s arrows. We took out the walker before it could eat anymore. We started to hear rustling behind the boulder. The bushes started to shake. We all got ready to fight the possible walker, or walkers, off.

Daryl walked out from behind a boulder. He paid no attention to us. “Son of a bitch. That’s my deer,” he yelled. He walked over to the walker. “It’s all gnawed on by this deceased, motherless bastard.” He kicked it a few times.

Dale sighed,

“Calm down, son. That’s not gonna help.”

“What do you know about it, ol’ man? Why don’t you take that stupid hat and go back to on golden pond? I’ve been tracking this thing for miles.” He crouched down next to the deer. “Do you think we could cut around this part right here?”

“Wouldn’t risk it,” Shane mumbled

“What a shame. I got squirrels that'll have to do.” He walked towards camp shouting for Merle.

Shane called out to Daryl as we followed behind him. “Hold up a bit, will you? I need to talk to you about something.” Daryl stopped to wait for him. I held my breath as I watched them. Shane started to explain everything then Rick joined in. He threw his squirrels at Rick as a distraction to punch him.

Shane side-checked Daryl onto the ground. Daryl, of course, had to pull out his knife. He stood up to swing it at Rick a few times. Since Rick was a cop, he knew how to handle this. Both him and Shane did. They had him to the ground in seconds. Rick calmly explained what happened while Daryl was catching his breath on the ground.

T intervened to explain that he stopped to padlock the door shut on his way out. It led him to believe Merle was safe from them. Only a few could fit in the narrow hallway at once anyway. Rick was going to go with Daryl into the city to get him. I grabbed my bow as I made my way towards the truck.

“You ain’t going.”

“What? Daryl, you need help-”

“Nah.” He walked off.

They waited a few minutes to start talking Rick out of it. It wasn’t just Merle he was going back for. Rick dropped a bag full of guns and ammo in the middle of the street. We needed that more than anything. We did need it just in case anything happened. Glenn, Rick, T and Daryl were going. I was banned from going thanks to Daryl.

Daryl was growing more impatient by the second. They loaded into the van before driving off. The rest of the day went by slowly. That was until Amy and Andrea caught over a dozen fish. All of us were going to bed on full stomachs. I don’t think that’s happened in the 3 months we’ve been here. Everyone couldn’t stop thinking about the fish fry.

The smell was amazing. We were all buzzing with excitement. We all gathered around the fires. We were all sitting around the fire, eating and making jokes. Amy got up to use the bathroom to which we continued the conversation without her. Minutes later, she came out of the RV complaining about us being out of toilet paper. It fell silent for a second as she was waiting for a response.

A blood curdling scream erupted from her. We turned around to see a walker taking a bite out of her arm. Several came out from behind the RV. Everyone erupted into screams. It was hard to tell what was going on. I quickly fumbled for my bow. Shane and Morales were helping the weaker fighters and kids up the RV.

The walkers around there were already well into camp. People were screaming and running all over. It was hard to see who was what. Gunshots started coming from the other side of the camp. The group was back. They had the bag of guns and ammo that Rick went for.

When the walkers were dead, we all stood in front of the RV. Andrea sobbed out for her now dead sister. Amy was bit a second time in the neck. She lost way too much blood. I noticed Glenn hyperventilating off to the side. I tightly pulled him into a hug.

“You’re ok, right? No bites?”

“I’m good. How about you?”

“Shaken up but fine. How did the city go?”

“Merle cut his hand off, cauterized the wound, escaped the building, and stole our truck. We ran into a group taking care of old people. They had me hostage.” I pulled away to look at him. “Let’s not talk about it. Go find Daryl.”

Where the hell was Daryl? I didn’t even see him yet. I quickly walked around camp calling out his name. There was so much commotion that I wasn’t hearing anything back. I sped up hoping to see him. I sighed in relief when I saw him taking out a walker.

“Daryl,” a sob got caught in my throat. I don’t know where that emotion came from. He dropped his gun as he started to make his way to me. I ran up to him jumping into his arms. I took the leap of faith that I have wanted to for months. I thought this would be the perfect opportunity to kiss him.

When we pulled away, I tightly hugged him.

“Let’s never leave each other when we are mad. I love you too much to lose you.”

“So you love me?” I looked up at him to see a wide grin on his face.

“Yes. I love you, dumbass.”

“I love you too, idiot.” He leaned down to kiss me again.

#the walking dead #the walking dead x reader #the walking dead fanfiction #daryl dixon #daryl x y/n #daryl x reader #daryl dixion imagine #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon x you #glenn rhee #rick grimes #glenn rhee x reader #rick grimes x reader #glennrheexreader #fandom imagine #imagines #the walking dead imagine

967 notes · View notes

johnpricewife · 3 years ago

Text

English is not my first language.

Summary: Reader slowly falls in love on love with Daryl and is Ricks sister.

Word count: 763

Warnings: swearing.

Falling in love with an archer.

Part 3.

Glenn explained that they lost someone named Merle in the city. “Daryl is going to lose his mind when you tell him you lost his brother.” Shane said. “Well it’s my fault so I will tell him.” T-dog said. Just then we heard screaming I immediately knew one of them was Carl I took my gun and sword as fast as possible and ran over to them, there was a walker eating a deer. Carl and Sofia ran to their moms, and Jim, Shane and Dale started beating up the walker. I took out my sword and stabbed it in it’s brain “You gotta hit the brain if you want to kill it.” I said thinking it was kind of obvious. Then we hear a branch snap and rustling behind the bushes I got my sword ready, but then a man comes in sight I assumed he was Merles brother Daryl. “Son of a bitch. That’s my deer! Look at it. All gnawed up by this filthy, disease-bearing, motherless poxy bastard!” He said while kicking the walker. “What do you think? Do you think we can cut around this chewed up part right here?” He asks “I would not risk that.” Shane said “That’s a damn shame. I got some squirrels, that’ll have to do.” He said walking back to camp. “Merle! Merle! Get your ugly ass out of here! I got us some squirrels! Let’s stew 'em up.” Daryl yelled “Daryl I need talk to you.” Shane said “About what?” “About Merle. There was a problem in Atlanta.” “He dead?” “We’re not sure.” “He either dead or he ain't!” “I’ll just say it.” Rick said getting involved now. “Who are you?” “Rick Grimes.” “Rick Grimes got something you want to tell me?” “Your brother was a danger to us all so I handcuffed him to a roof. He’s probably still there.” “Hold on. Let me process this. You’re saying you handcuffed my brother to a roof and you left him there?” “Yeah.” Daryl goes to attack him and now I have had enough “Hey!” I yelled they stopped and looked at me “I’m sorry about your brother and I get that your angry but this isn’t a way to fix this.” “Who are you anyway?” “Y/n Grimes.” “Great more of you.” He said sarcastically I rolled my eyes at him. He walked back to his tent he immediately walked out and yelled “Who the hell is sleeping in my tent?” “I am, give me a minute and I’ll get my stuff.” I told him “I didn’t say you should leave I just wanted to know.” He said “Okay.” “why would he want a stranger sleeping with him in his tent?” I thought but shook off the thought when Lori asked “Y/n will you help me cook dinner?” “I actually have to fix my car.” I told her. “Okay.” She said kinda disappointed. A few days ago my car broke down and there was a lot of smoke coming from under the hood of my car, I gave it a temporary solution but I really had to fix now. When I opened the hood I immediately saw that there was something wrong my engine I’m gonna do my best to fix this. While I was trying to fix my car I felt someone watching me I turned around and saw Daryl looking at me. “You want something?” I asked he just turned around and went to start the fire. Half an hour later I gave up on my car “This stupid fucking thing.” I mumbled to myself. I walked away and got back with a jerrycan so I can at least can get the gas. When I was done I heard Rick and Shane talking about Rick wanting to go back to Atlanta to get his bag of guns, and I guess Daryl heard the conversation because he Immediately said that they also can get his brother. I knew Shane wouldn’t agree with his plan but I thought it was a good idea more firepower wouldn’t be so bad. “I’ll go with you.” I said “Me too.” Daryl said “Glenn will you come too you’re the one who knows the city the best?” Rick asked “Yeah.” Glenn said kinda. “I’ll go too it is my fault he is stuck on the roof in the first place.” T-dog said. “. “You’re putting us all at risk by going there?” Shane said “Yeah I know but we can protect ourselves better if we had the guns.” Rick explained “Fine but you’ll go in the morning.”

I hope you like it. :)

#daryl dixion imagine #daryl dixon x oc #daryl dicon x grimes reader #daryl dixon #the walking dead x reader #the walking dead imagine #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon imagines #daryl dixon x reader #shane walsh x reader #shane walsh imagine #rick grimes x sister reader #shane walsh #rick grimes #rick grimes imagine #glenn rhee #glenn rhee imagine #glenn rhee x reader #t-dog

141 notes · View notes

tj-wrote-things · 4 years ago

Text

𝐇𝐞 𝐖𝐡𝗼

Nikolai Lantsov x fem!Grisha!reader

Based off of this ask

A/N- Hey besties, this is kinda late,, and i hate it but only a little bit. Can you guys like -stop requesting arguments??? pls its breaking my heart.

Mega thanks to @itisroe e for being my editor and shoulder to whine on :)

*Id like to take a moment to say that Nikolai is a bit of a dick in this one, and id like to reiterate that its never okay to invalidate or insult a so. I dont condone that type of behavior, im just writing it

enjoy:)

•

If there was one thing Nikolai Lantsov knew how to do, it was pout. You caught him— more than just a few times— slouched over on the blush red couch with his arms crossed, face smushed into a scowl as he studied you packing your bag.

You sighed, casting an increasingly irritated glance at him as you folded the coarse cloth of your winter coat and tucked it away with the rest of your belongings. The weight would be too much to bear, but you knew it would be cold up north where you were headed alongside Zoya and the Bataars.

“I’m leaving at dawn, whether you like it or not, Sobachka.”

The King looked away briefly at your words, hating understanding that you were right. He hauled himself out of his seat and redirected his sulking to the world outside the large window. It was beautifully blanketed in steadily falling snow.

“Will you really make our last night together a bitter one?” you commented.

“It wouldn’t be our last night if you’d just let me come with you,” Nikolai huffed.

You exhaled, dreading that this would be the third time you had this discussion, which, in his world, was more so a debate.

The reason was simple: Nikolai had no business accompanying them. The objective of the mission to Fjerda was a peace treaty between the Drüskelle and the Grisha populous. As Nikolai fit neither category, it had been decided that he would stay back and continue to hold the country together.

“We’ve been through this: to bring more people on the expedition would only irritate the Fjerdans. Especially, the king of a country with which they’ve been at war for a considerable amount of time,” you reiterated.

Nikolai shook his head again, unwilling to accept it. He refused to welcome the fact that the love of his long life would be away and in perpetual danger for weeks.

The wind whistled as it bounded against the window, filling the room with a violent creaking.

“It’s dangerous, Y/N, why can you not understand—”

You cut him off swiftly as his voice began to rise, “You watch that tone, Lantsov, or I’ll—”

Now, it was Nikolai’s turn to cut you off: “You’ll what? Leave early?” The young man turned to you from the window and met your incredulous gaze. “Oh, don’t look at me like that. We both know it's your only vice.”

“My only vice,” you mocked cynically. “In what regard?”

Nikolai spread his arms patronizingly as if he were explaining the obvious to his childhood self.

“Your heart craves adulation,” he said, pointing a sharp, accusatory finger your way. “You’ll take any opportunity to leave Os Alta— leave me— and flaunt your gifts.”

Your heart thudded heavily in your chest. In anger or despair, you could not tell.

You would not lie to yourself. You knew with all your heart that, all things considered, your mastery of the Small Science was a blessing, hidden behind the mask of a devil. In the days you served faithfully in the Second Army, your gifts were revered and you were respected in the highest regard amongst your Grisha peers. However, in the years following the war, you became like everybody else.

It was at the behest of your husband that you progressively began to use your power as an Inferni less as the days passed. Ever the political mastermind, he had approached you one summer evening and begged you refrain from using your power in public, claiming that the presence of a Grisha Queen was too much for his fragile country to bear. In the beginning, you had agreed, for if there was one thing that surpassed your love for your husband, it was your shared love for Ravka.

You knew that relations between the Grisha and the others were strained, and so you agreed, taking your husband's hand and promising to limit the displays of glowing orange flames which had burned your enemies as well as warmed the hands of your allies.

It was becoming increasingly difficult to train behind a closed gate, under a roof, beneath the watchful eye of First Army guards armed with fire extinguishers. In fact, it had grown so stifling you had begun to resemble Alina Starkov when first she came to the Little Palace, with her pallor skin and brittle locks.

You brushed the aforementioned hair, now soft and healthy from the effects of tailoring, behind your ear as you placed the brush down and sharpened your stare at Nikolai’s face, shrouded in silver shadows from the icy light of the moon.

“Craves adulation,” you grumbled, knowing that if your voice rose any higher, it would betray every emotion storming around your heart. “Have a look in the mirror, Nikolai, and tell me which of us truly fits your description.”

His description, in all its insulting glory, fit Nikolai Lantsov to the tee.

Nikolai Lantsov, who would smile and wave to a crowd with a Sun Summoner on his arm, allowing you to watch with disdain from your place on a horse beside Mal. Nikolai Lantsov, who would hide behind a pair of gloves to escape the truth of what he had become. Nikolai Lantsov, who had pushed his wife into a state of sickness, albeit unknowingly, sacrificing her life’s blood for the sake of his country.

Nikolai Lantsov, who resolutely shook his head, running a hand through the already dishevelled hair on his head, before waving it dismissively, as if swatting a fly. “Please. You’d flick your hands for anyone who’d ask— if they clapped hard enough.” Nikolai moved for the bookshelf, drawing out a novel as if his words were mere small talk with an old friend.

Your anger blurred to shock. “Flick my hands—”

“Honestly, you take every opportunity to flaunt it. I’m surprised the Little Palace is still standing after having you inside for twenty years!”

There was no sense to his vile declarations now. Though, Nikolai could not see it. The anger, betrayal, and frustration at being left behind were all that clouded his boyish mind as he hurled one unkind word after the other.

“Nikolai,” You moved towards him, arm outstretched, eyes beginning to water. “Lapushka, please—” As your hand approached his, the storm heavier than ever. He wrenched his arm away from you, leering his head back to look you in the eyes.

“Truly, I can’t be sure why you haven’t left already.”

“For saints’ sake, Nikolai. Look at me!”

The dam broke as you flicked your hands, removing the tailoring to your appearance, unveiling the truth of your restrictions.

Nikolai stared with an open mouth and hard eyes as the warm winter flush of your cheeks was replaced with dulled skin, and the sleek shine of your hair was redefined with a brittle and unkempt bush.

“The only person from whom I crave adulation,” you whispered, “is the only man who’s too thick to look past a wavering mask.”

The Lantsov King swallowed, flipping the book restlessly in his hands. “Y/N—”

“Get out.” You left no room for him to argue, even when he opened his mouth once more. “I said leave!” You stalked to the door, pulling it open with a loud shriek of wood. “Now.”

Nikolai Lantsov, who spent the night in a guest room, in a state of perpetual regret.

No amount of tossing and turning brought any comfort to his aching heart, nor his pounding head. He flopped halfheartedly in the guest bed, stiff from lack of use, and from lack of you, revisiting the disgusting words he’d spat. The reason for them, however unjustified, sat heavily on his chest, suffocating him at an agonizing rate.

Nikolai Lantsov, who was afraid that— like his mother and father— you would grow to resent his blood, resent it for its stark difference to yours. The fear that you would regret your marriage to what your people called an otkazat’sya: the abandoned.

The King figured it was only a matter of time before the title served him fully.

It was reasonable, wasn’t it? To lash out at a time of vulnerability? Nikolai couldn’t be sure, having grown up in a family of despots who had never given him the time of day when it mattered most.

Watching the tailored facade fall from his wife’s face, Nikolai was reminded solely of his mother, who, like you, was coerced into moulding her face into that of the perfect queen, at the behest of her husband. He knew then that all he had said and done was wrong. Wrong to her, and wrong to her people.

How could he bring himself to apologize? To walk into their bedroom and beg forgiveness? Would she forgive him? Even if he stooped— a king in tears and on his knees for the woman he loved perhaps more ardently than the country he vowed to govern— would she, in all her scorned glory, crouch beside him, take his face in her hands, and kiss away his regret?

Could he expect her to?

Dawn came around all too swiftly, rousing husband and wife from their fitful sleep in separate rooms, and with it came your departure to the northern lands.

You stood side-by-side with Nikolai as the carriages were loaded with provisions, luggage, and gifts for the Drüskelle, refusing to look at him. Instead, digging fruitlessly in your shoulder bag as an excuse to keep your head down.

The call came from the footman as the time arrived for you to leave. You didn’t make it more than one step forward with your hand gripping the leather strap of your bag before a firm grasp was on your waist.

“Wait,” whispered Nikolai, tugging you back. He cast a glance at the guard, letting him know that they would need a moment. “I can’t let you leave— not like this.”

You held your gaze to the floor. Gently, he tilted your head back up with his thumb and forefinger. “Not now, not when you can barely look at me,” he continued. You held his stare as his hand shifted tentatively towards your jaw. “Not when I can’t be sure you won't come back to me, Milaya.”

You sniffled softly at the nickname, moving your own hand to his face and pausing to tuck away a loose golden curl.

“Please come back to me,” he said softly as if he were sharing a secret. There was an unspoken apology apparent in his reddening eyes while the seconds ticked by.

“Of course,” you murmured back, tipping his head down as you pecked his brow, then his cheek. “Nikolai, there’s not a thing in this world that could keep me away from you.”

You kissed him soundly, your hand running across the expanse of his jaw as he leaned into the tender forgiveness settled in your palm. When you broke apart, Nikolai took your hand from his face. He kissed your palm and walked you to your carriage. The King watched with concerned eyes as you took your seat.

Nikolai kissed your hand once more from his place on the ground and looked up at you. “Swear you’ll write,” he said. “Or I’ll crash the proceedings.”

You barked a hearty laugh, squeezing his hand as he tried to let you go. “I will,” you promised. “And I’ll see you when I come back.”

It was another moment before you let go of his hand. His palm hit the carriage door bearing the Lantsov crest. You watched as the carriage travelled further and further away, Nikolai’s frame disappearing into the horizon.

“I promise,” you whispered.

•

338 notes · View notes

definitelynotsuzumi · 4 years ago

Text

Zapped to Another World [Chapter 3]

[Masterlist]

Chapter 3 is finally up! T-T I am really sorry for the delays and future delays since I am juggling between school and Genshin.

Despite the roof over your head and the cushy bed beneath you, you could not sleep.

You heaved a sigh as you reached your hand into your chest, detaching your Gnosis. If your knowledge was right, you were basically the 8th Archon. A phantom one, judging by Venti’s reaction.

“Oh good, you have not lost it yet.” A familiar voice echoed. You nearly rolled off the bed in surprise as you turned to face Artem.

“How? But I? Huh? What are you doing here?” You stuttered.

“Oh silly head. Or maybe I am the silly one for not letting you know. A Gnosis is a way that Archons can communicate with the Celestia. In other words, me!” Artem threw you a mischievous smile. He seemed a lot more easy-going. Was it because I agreed to this life? Or is it because his sister isn’t here?

You suspected both as Artem kicked back in the air.

“I am aware of that but…Doesn’t this make me…Irrelevant in this world? Weren’t there supposed to be just 7 Archons?” You knitted your brows as he casually floated around the giant room.

“Well, originally, yes. But things change!”

“So, what exactly am I an Archon of?” You looked back onto your Gnosis. As you had agreed to the “contract” when you fell, the Gnosis had transformed into what looked like a chess piece, with a sphere adorning the top of it.

“This world! Isn’t that exciting?”

Figures. The shape atop your Gnosis was shaped like a planet after all.

“…Honestly, not with the Fatui out to get people like me.” You sighed.

“Oh, if they try anything funny with the Order I have made, rest assured, us gods will deal with it.” Artem’s easy-going aura turned bloodthirsty.

You held your tongue instinctively as Artem laughed humourlessly.

“I am well aware of the Tsaritsa straying from her path and interfering. But I have faith in that Outworlder.” Artem hummed as he messed around in your room. He somehow managed to find lipstick paper in the drawers and had put it on.

“And me. Surely there is more to my existence in this world. Am I right in saying that?” You grasped your Gnosis tightly in your hand.

“Well yes, you are the failsafe I have created. It was pure chance that I lost that game and my temper ehe~” He blew you a kiss with his extremely pigmented lips.

You were tempted to shout. A pure chance that I got killed by that lightning volt, you mean!

“Aren’t you glad that it worked out?,” Artem closed the gap between the two of you, his eyes staring into yours. There was a dangerous glint in his eyes, as if he could hear your thoughts.

“I am glad for this second chance in life. But it is honestly concerning for someone like me…” You gulped back your fear of the god.

“Understandable. By the way, try to keep your existence as an Archon as downlow as possible. While the Archons may be aware of another one, they will not be able to pinpoint who it is exactly until they meet you. If they got rid of the failsafe, I will be forced to get someone to step in.”

“…Do you mean the Sustainer of Heavenly Principles?” Artem blinked in surprise.

“Wow, I’m surprised a human from Earth knows about her. Yes, yes you are right. Clever girl.”

You felt the cold claws of dread grip your heart.

“Communication is a 2-way street. If they can observe and interact with the Celestia, they can interfere with it. That means, if they tried hard enough, they can very well overthrow the gods of the Celestia.” Artem turned serious.

“That is why you exist now. The original plan was to summon a hero from Elysium as a failsafe but seeing as to how things turn out, well, here we are.”

“You talk as if it is my fault that we are here now…” You frowned, “You raged during a game of Uno. Uno, of all games! And caused a whole lightning to zap me into the afterlife. Not to mention, the guilt trip that you pulled just to bring me here.”

Artem rolled his eyes, as if you were snapping over a trivial issue.

“Now you just sound like Solaria. Blegh.” Artem faked a retch before returning to his serious expression.

“Sorry if I made it sound bad that you are here. I mean no ill-intentions. You didn’t deserve to die because of my temper.” Artem patted your head, exhaling heavily through his nose.

You heard footsteps come by your door. Artem gave you a wink as he disappeared into a burst of golden sparks. You hurriedly stored your gnosis to your chest again.

“Miss (L/N), I apologize for the disturbance. Master Diluc has instructed me to provide you with clothing.” A maid came by, a set of clothes and shoes in her hands.

“How kind. Leave them by the dresser. And send him my…thanks.” You watched as the maid bowed her head, putting them down on the oak dresser before scurrying out of your room.

Rising and feeling the silken fabric of a simple red frock, black shirt and a matching cape, you exhaled through your nose. You knew that you were caught up in something complicated and the feeling of helplessness came back to you.

Artem’s voice then echoed in your ears.

‘Find the Outworlder and see to it that he saves this world. If not, well…’ A vision of Mondstadt in flames with the familiar black-red cubes flashed in your eyes.

‘Let’s just say, the option of going into Elysium will be open.’

You did not know when you had drifted off to sleep, but you were glad for those few hours of rest. You slipped out of your day-old school uniform and donned the fresh clothes Diluc had given. They felt light and soft, perfect for traveling under the sun. Given how the sun was blazing through the morning dew, you decided against the cape and slipped it into your bag as well.

Preparing your things, you were not a fan of how the bag of mora you had received from Solaria was getting lighter. Maybe I should become an Adventurer as well…

Walking down the wooden stairs of the Winery, you were surprised to see a huge spread of food on the table, with Diluc leisurely eating his way through a pile of steaks, potatoes and cheese.

“Have some, the people of Mondstadt call this Pile Em Up.” Diluc pushed over a steaming plate. You swore you saw it sparkle in the candlelight.

You tentatively sliced a piece. Meat and cheese at this time of the day seemed a little rich, but as the warm ribs melted in your mouth, you could not hold back a satisfied sigh.

“Your maids are excellent cooks.”

“…I cooked it.”

“…Really?”

“Do you not believe that I can cook?”

Diluc gave you a bemused smile. You looked back down onto your steak. You mentally yelled at yourself to quit blushing.

“I-well, you don’t seem the type to cook so…I just thought…”You stumbled over your words. You could feel his eyes on you. You noticed a small, genuine smile forming on his lips. You have landed on one of the topics he admits pride in.

“Well, I do work as a bartender in the tavern at times, naturally I will need to be able to cook.”

A soft warmth formed in your chest as you smiled back. Finishing off the delicious plate of the juicy meat, you blinked in surprise as he offered you a pack of dried sunsettias and apples.

“The journey will be long. Please be safe on your travels.”

Huh. You always had the impression that he was cold and aloof, but Diluc seemed different than what you have seen in the game.

“Uhm, thank you for everything you have done. I will pay it back some day!” You bowed before turning towards the path leading out of Dawn Winery.

“Uh…Uhmm….” You murmured in growing panic. Solaria had forgotten to pack a map! You were incredibly lost. A boy with white hair bolted past as you heard the sound of gibberish following behind him. You had a bad feeling about this.

“…Uh oh.”

You looked back. A group of very angry Hilichurls were running towards you and the boy.

“UH OH!”

You sprinted in the direction of the boy but you soon found yourself face-to-face with a cliff. The boy was nowhere to be seen.

You had to fight.

You turned around, grabbing an arrow that flew past your face. Everything seemed slower than you thought it would be.

Gritting your teeth, you pushed your arms in front of you. Your eyes shut themselves tightly as you willed for the area around you to freeze over. The screams of the Hilichurls stopped as you felt the icy winds against your cheek.

Cautiously, you opened your eyes to see them frozen solid. You walked up, tapping the ice with your knuckles.

It was as if they were made out of ice rather than being flash-frozen.

Whatever had happened, you were certain that you would be safe. Looking around, you noticed a blob of white hair in the bush near you.

“You alright there?” You called out. The boy poked his head out of the bush.

“A…Are they gone -AH!” The boy jumped as he saw the Hilichurls’ angry expressions before realizing that they are frozen solid.

“It should be safe and anyways, what is the use of a sword if you don’t use it to defend yourself?” You sighed, noticing a sword strapped to his side.

“They kind of caught me off-guard…” His expression of guilt made you feel bad as you awkwardly patted his head.

He reminded you of a little brother.

“What’s your name?” You asked as you took in the familiar garb he was wearing.

“I’m Bennett! I had a commission to retrieve treasure from the Hilichurls but…well…”He stole a glance at the Hilichurls, who remained frozen solid in their spots.

“I’m (Y/N) but I got lost…I forgot to pack in a map…” You sighed, scratching the back of your head awkwardly.

“Oh! I can help with that!”

Bennet fished out a crumpled piece of paper. It was a map! You were saved!

But just as you were about to thank Artem for his kindness, an arrow ripped through the middle.

The Hilichurls you froze over must have melted as you heard their angered screaming.

“Oh for f-“

Bennett drew his sword. You were familiar with his skill in the game as you saw him charging energy into his sword. Raising your hand, you willed for your power to protect him as he swung his sword. Flames rose as he struck down the Shield Hilichurl.

“Huh?” Bennett was confused when he realized he was not sent flying.

“Focus, Bennett, focus!” You yelled as you blasted the Hilichurls away from him. As much as you hated how his unluckiness seemed contagious, you did not want him to be hurt.

“Thanks!” Bennett beamed at you as he slashed down the Hilichurls. That seemed to be last of them as you finished off the Shield Hilichurl.

“Wow, thanks for saving me back there. Seriously, I owe you one.” Bennett made his gratitude known, thanking you profusely. You sighed as you sat down on the grass.

Bennett took out the torn map and looked extremely sheepish.

“Don’t suppose you have an extra one?” You sighed again. Bennett shook his head in response.

“Hey, are you two okay? I just saw the bodies of the Hilichurls and I came by to investigate- Oh hey Bennett!” A girl’s voice greeted you both.

“Hey Amber! Yeah, I kinda got into a fight with them but she saved me!” Bennett excitedly introduced you to the Outrider.

“She’s uh…What’s your name again?”

“I’m (Y/N) and I’m trying to get to Liyue but I got lost. Bennett was showing me his map until they ripped it. Don’t suppose you have an extra in your pockets?” You wiped off the sweat as you stood up to greet Amber.

“Oh! I can help with that!” Amber gave you a neatly folded piece of paper.

“Please take care on your travels then. There is a rise in Hilichurl sightings in the area.” Amber saluted.

“Don’t suppose you’d like to join Bennett’s Adventure Team?” Bennett gave you a puppy-eyed dog look.

“Uhm…Well, I really need to make my way to Liyue…Unless you’d want to come with me and abandon everything you have here…”Bennett’s face fell. You instantly felt bad for the poor adventurer. You knew it was a tall order for you to ask him to come along.

“Hey hey…I’ll be back soon. We can do more adventuring once I fulfil my mission, okay?” You smiled at Bennett, who brightened at your promise.

‘If I am still alive, afterwards,’ A dark thought flashed through your head.

Waving good bye to the two, you continued on your path, leaving Mondstadt behind.

Meanwhile

Diluc’s servant gulped as he approached a small cottage in the bamboo forest. Knocking the wooden door, he cleared his throat.

“Diluc sends his regards.” The door immediately opened to reveal a girl with dark brown hair.

“Oho! Finally! He calls! Did he happen to include an engagement ring by any chance?”

“U-Uh no, just this letter-“

“Oh how boring.” The door slammed shut.

“He includes payment with this letter.”

“Why didn’t you say so earlier?” The door swung open again. The girl swiped off the bag of mora the servant had prepared and wax-sealed letter smoothly.

Ripping the letter open, the girl scanned its contents carefully.

“As straightforward as always. Thanks for your hard work, I guess.” Waving off the servant casually, the girl smiled to herself.

“A recon mission for a stranger in red and black, huh? Well, well, well. Time to dust off the old umbrella.”

#genshin x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact fanfiction #diluc x reader #bennett x reader #amber

133 notes · View notes

rwby-oscar-blog · 4 years ago

Text

Mistral, the land of prosperity, and known to have the highest amount of minerals in the soil for farming, known to have the best crops of food throughout all of remment. But unfortunately two orphans were now homeless, lien-less and with nothing to their names, except for the clothes on their back, a hunting rifle from their father and two hand guns from their mother and whatever they got after the fire happened. Destroying their home and the field that they had a good number of crops growing, but now it's just a burnt field and the charred skeletal remains of a home left.

This wasn't a home anymore, so Ocsar and his twin sister Olivia both left the homestead, to look for another place to live and to call home.

Throughout their travels, they were able to stay in a tent that they also had among their stuff after the fire, which consumed their home and killed their parents. Nobody in either villages or small town's would take them in at all. The only way they kept themselves alive was through sheer determination and practice of hunting animals for food. This wasn't what they wanted to do, but it was a better way to get some food and a bit of lien, after selling the fur or anything of the origin to medical doctors in the towns or villages. Olivia was starting to develop into a beautiful woman, but Oscar didn't want her to start selling herself like a cheap prostitute or even being a prostitute at all. So hunting was the only thing to do, or find small easy jobs that they could do.

But for sleeping, it was only in the tent off of the main route in a field or among the bushes, near the main road or path towards the towns and villages. It was something at least. Until they made it to the forest.

It was a mighty thick and luscious forest, that had many of remment's tallest trees in the entire world. "This is a perfect place" Olivia looked at her twin confused of what he ment "wait what, what do you mean this is perfect?" "I'm saying Olivia is that, this place will be our new home" looking around the entire forest, there was barely any room for a tent, let alone a cabin to build. So Olivia crossed her arms above her breasts, looking at Oscar "okay Mr survivalist, where in the hell are we going to build a home, in the middle of a thick forest, there is barely any room on the ground" course Oscar pointed up at the sky or among the tree's.

She looked up at the top of one of the tallest trees, then shook her head "noo way, no i don't like, yo..you do know i hate highests, right?.. Oscar, why?" He shrugged at her "why not?, it's perfect, we will be off the ground. The animals will not be able to step on us, or hunt us down, anyways it's perfect" sighing again at the childest idea from her own twin, shaking her head again. "Okay Mr.toughman how are you, let alone us going to get up the tree and make a treehouse, or a base for the tree house?" Oscar just lifted up both arms, took one big 360 turn around the forest, pointing at the wood that was surrounding them.

Olivia smacked her forehead, she was being sarcastic, she knew about the huge numerous trees around the entire place. Placing her hands on her tight short shorts, sighed "you do know i was being sarcastic right?" He just nodded to her "oh yeah, i know" facepalming herself, he placed his bag on the ground getting some tools out, like axe he took from home "well, no time like the present now, let's get started already and finish the base before sunset" Olivia sigh once again and just went with it, for now.

Oscar got to chop down some trees that looked like they could be useful, checking a tree to see if it was coming down or sick, he chopped it down. It was a slow process, but with Olivia's help, it made the journey of building a home easier, but building steps were first. The temporary wooden stairs were constructed without hassle, they got to a height where it was enough to be invisible but visible to them. They got started on the platform.

Time flew past them as they worked throughout the rest of the day into early to late evening, once it got dark out they stopped working. Luckily they just finished working on the main base, or platform to build their home. But left it bare, with a lamp lighting the area above the tree, they set up their tent and had their dinner. As they ate, Olivia would take a glance at her brother's shirtless chest, he was getting chiseled slowly. Seeing those muscles, she turned red looking away 'damn it he is getting hot, wait' she shook her head 'no he is my brother, i'm not falling for him no way' she sighed once again, Oscar heard that sigh " is everything okay Olivia?" Asking his sister about it, she turned even more red, blankly looking at him.

"No no no I'm fine just my mind went off somewhere" laughing it off, she continued to eat her dinner, shrugging it off was the only thing he could've done for now.

Sleeping was even more of a hellish task, still awake Olivia's heart was beating fast and her breathing was irregularly picking up fast, when she saw Oscar. A few times she caught herself, with her hand on her unzipped short shorts, lightly touching her crotch, softly rubbing herself, she also felt her nipples get hard in her small top, at this point it could be called a tank top. Olivia stops dead in her tracks giving herself a good smack across the face, painful, but effective. So she got up grabbing a towel, headed to the pound that they found just a little ways from the forest. She removed her clothing and jumped into the very cold water, letting out a yell, she shivered and shaked. Quickly she got out of the pound and gave herself a quick dry off and put her warmish clothes back on.

Olivia felt better, for the most part. But who said her mind wouldn't run wild, in her dreams. Getting back to the platform was easy enough, just reaching the last step. She heard a click, knowing that sound, she again stopped in her tracks. It was dark still, but she saw a small little spark of a light coming from Oscar, she gave a sigh. "Who goes there?" He demanded an answer "it's just me Oscar, Olivia your sister" lighting up the lamp, he pointed it at Olivia seeing her there, letting out a sigh of relief. "Oh thank the brothers you are safe" then it hit him "wait where in the hell were you" "i was using the little girls room Osc really" he sighed again, putting the pistol back into the holdster, he just looked at her. "Well next time just say something" "how can i? When you are still sleeping ?" "Just give me a shake and tell me" this was going over his head.

Saying that she was using the "bathroom" was her own business, not Oscars business at all, even if he did the same, he wouldn't even tell anyone about that either. Still she shook her head "let's get back to sleep and talk about this in the morning" laying back down, in their tent. Oscar was already asleep, but Olivia was still awake, for a bit. Though she did cool down with a drip in the cold pond, she still felt a little itch deep in her core, so getting to sleep wasn't much of a problem.

The morning came within about 7 hours later, Oscar didn't waste any time at all and continued to build up their new home in the tree. Olivia woke up later after Oscar and joined in with the help to finish or start on the wall of the tree house.

After 6 hours of work on the treehouse, they managed to get the main house built with a half of the roof already built, but also managed to get three additional rooms made, one was a bathroom completed, the last two were full bedrooms for Oscar and Olivia to use. So with it being lunchtime and a nice break for the both of them, Olivia had caught a good number of fishes to eat for lunch. Sitting around the campfire, eating their lunch Oscar was proud of his and Olivia's hard work on the new home they were building together, being shirtless was very hard on Olivia again, the sweat coming off of his forehead and all over his chest was driving Olivia crazy and awakening her hormones in her again. She was blushing like crazy, giving her head a real good shake to get her mind out of the gutter. "So very close, we are nearly done with this home of ours, but what are we going to put in it?" Olivia heard her twin asking that, but her mind was stripping Oscar down to nothing, yet she doesn't know how big he was or if had a small member.

Oscar looked at Olivia, seeing that her mind was not here, it was just elsewhere. Waving his hand around in front of her face, he called her name " hey Olivia, hello are you there, remnant to Olivia, it's your twin brother Oscar calling want to answer" finally coming back to reality and seeing him standing there, waving his hand around "oh hey Oscar" "finally, welcome back to remnant space cadet, enjoy your trip" she blushed red "oh sh..shut up you" Oscar laughed at her when she told him to shut up like that "take it easy sis, i was only kidding" again he laughed and Olivia just blushed again even more red "so what were you asking me?" Sighing "I was asking what we would need for the house, we don't have any electricity running through this place, as of yet. But we will soon or not" sitting back down by the campfire, finishing up his lunch fish.

Olivia rubbed her arm thinking a bit, but her mind was still processing if her brother was packing or not, shaking her head from the indecent idea of not knowing her brother's Anatomy. " Well we do need a decent kitchen set up and windows, a fireplace can be good, if we can find clay or something" Oscar nods to those ideas that would make it more of a home and a place they can be truly happy. Nodding to that, he finished his lunch and he went back to work to finish the roof.

After a couple of hours of working on the roof it was at least now finished, both standing back and checking out their handy work. "Well i do believe we are done now" Olivia smiled at her brother "yep we did, do you think mom and dad would like this" that hit him hard as well as her, when she heard herself repeated to herself in her head, just looking at him with an apologetic eyes as she just looked at him "I'm im.." She felt his hand touch her head and gave her hair and head a rub "Don't worry about it Olivia, mom and dad would be very proud of our hard work on the house we made" he just smiled as Olivia looked sad.

It was hard on them both since their parents had died, and it was hard on both to realize that they were now gone.

As Olivia was making some improvements in the new house, Oscar looked at the sun. Seeing it was getting dark and it was nearly time for dinner. "Hey Olivia i will head out to hunt for some food" she looked at her brother, as he went to get the weapons. "Wait, what is wrong with fish?" "Fish is okay, but I do want something more than just fish." Olivia nodded in agreement to that statement "and I can see if anyone had left anything we can use outside of town" that would be another idea. The village sometimes throws away anything that they are not using or can't be fixed at all. Oscar took his father's 70 lever action rifle and is taking the matching pistol's ivory, leaving Ebony with Olivia.

Handing her ebony, she took the pistol and held it "keep this with you, only use this if it's really necessary okay." Olivia nods to her brother "i will be back soon" "be careful Oscar you're the only family i have left" giving her a smile he rubbed her head "i know same with you dear sister, but i do promise i will be back" both smiling at each other, Oscar left the treehouse to hunt for food, as he got off the last step, he lifted up the stairs up concealing the stairs from anyone or anything, that might come their way. Getting his gun ready he walked towards an empty field to find food. Olivia sits there in the silent room, no tv, no radio, nothing but just the pure silence of the evening.

She laid on the bench that Oscar made from the remaining wood, to give at least a bit of furniture in the house. She laid there looking up at the ceiling, slowly closing her eyes, she remembered him being shirtless and getting sweaty from the hard work he did, to build this new home for the both of them. Olivia's hands went from her sides upwards towards the hem of her tight short shorts, unbuttoning the single button, she slowly unzipped her zipper. Exposing her white panties, she slipped off the shorts, moving her right hand up her stomach, moving underneath her shirt and bra, groping herself. She imagined again, how Oscar looked so built and his muscles were developing, so well. She breathed in a sharp breath, as her left hand moved above her panties and between her legs, she started to move her fingers between her pussy lips.

Moving her finger slowly between her pussy lips,she still imagine him shirtless, but instead, he pinned her to the ground, kissing her neck and groping her d cup breasts in both hand's of his, she softly moaned, while her right hand grope her breast, rubbing it and her nipple in a circle, while her left hand and trigger finger, moved a bit fast up and down, making a wet spot appear. Olivia softly moaned, rubbing her pussy bit more, picking up the pace, in her imagination, oscar was sucking on her neck, rubbing her breast and moving his two fingers around her pussy, she moaned a bit loud, moving her panties to the side, she rub her clit in a circle slowly at first, but picked up pace and speed, then she inserted her fingers into her pussy, moving them in and out of herself.

Moaning loudly now, in her micro dream, Oscar removed all of her clothing and was licking her pussy and sucking on her clit, Olivia naked and on her knees, bending over was plunging her fingers deeper into her pussy and rubbing her clit faster, moaning Oscars name "ohh...Oscar...oh.Oscar". In her micro dream, he plunged his cock into her pussy fucking her like a dog, she plunged her fingers faster, hard and deeper into her pussy, rubbing her G-spot manytimes over and over again. Moaning loudly, Olivia was reaching her limits. With the last few pumps of her fingers in her pussy, she screamed as she squirted all over the bench and half of the floor too. Panting like crazy just after she had an Orgasm for the first time really drained, she looked at her fingers, seeing how sticky they were. Olivia blushed very red, but she heard the stairs being brought down.

With her ears picking up the sound, she quickly got dressed again and cleaned up the mess before he or someone else came up the stairs. So she grabbed the gun ready to shoot the gun, cocking the hammer back till it locked in place, she waited and watched. Then the figure got to the door, opening it she saw it was Oscar, she let out a good sigh of relief. "Welcome back Oscar" "Thanks Olivia, got dinner" showing her the kills he had gotten, she took them from him "okay let me get them cleaned and skinned, then we can eat" "sounds good sister, i will get the fire started" Olivia nods, watching her brother leave the house again.

After a delicious dinner, they had planned to stay outside to enjoy a late night campfire, just sitting around remembering the good old days with their parents. But a sudden spit of rain started to come down upon them both, rushing into the house getting soaked with each step they took, trying to get into the house. Getting in, Olivia started to shiver a bit, so Oscar held her close for a bit keeping her warm for a bit. "Let's get you out of those clothes and into something warm" Olivia blushed like a tomato, being close to her brother like this. They split to their own room, she started to strip down to her underwear, as she got to take off her bra, Olivia felt her heart beat fast. She can still feel his warmth against her body, finishing stripping down, and giving herself a good dry off with a towel.

Still raining outside and shivering a bit, she couldn't handle it, she needed the warmth of another to keep warm. She walked over to her brother's room, giving a knock she waited for a bit. The door opened, Oscar still awake looking at his sister. "Hey Olivia, you need something?" She nods to her brother, when he asked that "can we cuddle for a bit, im feeling cold" Oscar nods a bit " might as well sleep here since we don't have blankets as of yet" Olivia like the idea, she walked into his room, closing his door as she walked in, would be the last time, they see each other as siblings.

Laying on the ground together, they spooned together. Holding each other close, Olivia was able to close her eyes to sleep, but something hard was poking between her ass cheeks, she then looked behind her, seeing her brother blushed a bit "Olivia its not" she didn't let him finish his sentence, she grinded her ass up against his cock underneath his pants, she blushed as well, but she had a sly of a smile on her face as she grinded more "Olivia" he moaned a bit, looking at him "you like this huh your twin sister's ass grinding you huh" getting turned on more, she was egging her brother on. Hesitant at first, yet feeling this ass grinding up against his cock, he gave in, unleashing his cock from his boxers, he grabbed her ass and really went to town on her ass. Both moaned softly, while she lifted up her shirt, giving her breasts both a rub. She smiled at him

"Sit on the floor back to the wall" stopping midway through grinding his cock between her ass, he nods. Both getting up from laying on the floor, Oscar crawled up to the wall, putting his back up against it, Olivia crawled as well, seeing how big his cock was, she licked her lips, taking it into her hands, she stroked his cock in her hand. She heard her brother moaning as she stroked his cock more. Then she took the whole thing into her mouth, sucking and licking the shaft, she bobbed her head up and down, taking it all into her mouth. Oscar wanted to grab something, so he put his hand on her cheek watching her suck on his cock, Olivia felt his cock throbbed feeling like it was going to explode. "I'm cumming" he said but too late, he held her head as he shot all of his cum from his cock and balls, drained everything into her mouth and down her throat. Pulling Away Olivia coughed after tasting his cum "im sorry sis" he apologized right away "its okay Osc" she stood up seeing his cock rise back up from the dead, hard girthy, but very thick. Already wet she removed her panties, throwing it at Oscar.

Catching it in his hand, he looked up seeing her wet pussy dripping, she put her hands on his shoulders, Olivia slowly squatted down towards his cock, teasing the head of his cock, she slipped it into her pussy. Finding it hard to get it in, he grabbed her hips and slammed it in, she yelled in pain as he broke her hymen, making her bleed all over his cock "Olivia you were" giving her a nod, she slowly moved her hips up and down on his cock, the pain was slowly going away, being replaced with pleasure, she and Oscar moaned together. Kissing each other and he grabbed her hips still plunging deeper into her pussy more, so she moved up a bit with just the tip inside, she shoved her breasts on to his face, motorboating his sister. But he sucks on them both, sending his whole cock back into her pussy again.

Both moaning still, Oscar felt his cock throbbing again as he slowly tried to remove his cock from her pussy, but she slammed hard and kept bouncing a little bit of a time " Olivia i'm about….to...cum..let me pull out" " no cum in me give me your seed plow my field" Oscar got harder hearing her say that, both hugged each other, he finally shots his hot, sticky, thick cum into her pussy and womb. Panting and heaving, both laid on the ground together, kissing each other and holding each other in their own embrace, falling a sleep together

THE END

#rwby smut #oscar pine #Olivia pine

32 notes · View notes

restlesswasteland · 3 years ago

Text

Miserables Month Day 2: "Fire"

Written for the Miserables Month @themiserablesmonth This is set in the weird zombie apocalypse AU that lives rent free in my mind. Electric heat, he should’ve said earlier. He frowns as he pokes at the embers with a stick. The nights are getting colder and he isn’t sure how much longer they can last out here. They’ll have to move faster if they’re going to make it south before the winter.

After suppressing another shudder, Enjolras decides it’s worth adding another log and risking someone seeing the fire. If he’s going to die out here (who am I kidding, when I die out here) he’s going down fighting- not blue-lipped and frostbitten.

Or maybe he should’ve said his bed. His apartment. Four walls and a roof. Or maybe he shouldn’t have said anything at all.

--- “Cigarettes,” Grantaire declares, looking into the fire they’re sitting around. “God, what I’d do for a fucking cigarette.”

“And booze,” Bahorel tacks on. “And this shit doesn’t count.” He takes a sip from the jar of guerilla moonshine that the two of them concocted when the group made their last food run through some suburban wasteland.

“I’ll drink to that,” Grantaire smirks. Bahorel passes the jar.

Enjolras tries to tune them out as he tends to the fire. With all of them awake, it’s safe enough to let it grow a little larger. He focuses on adding a log, poking it into the right position to catch.

“Grocery stores. I’m. So. Hungry.” Gavroche is all melodrama. “Hungry all the fucking time.”

“Language,” Eponine shoves his shoulder with her foot. He wrinkles his nose at her.

“But Grantaire just-“

“What about you, Ferre?” Eponine interrupts Gavroche’s protest.

Combeferre looks back at her for a long moment, his face characteristically stoic. “My books,” he finally decides.

Eponine snorts. “Jesus fuck, you’re in a goddamn apocalypse straight out of a bad 80’s Sci-Fi movie and you miss your books. Of course you do. Why did I even ask?” She laughs. Combeferre looks back at her, but betrays himself with a small smile.

Enjolras just breathes. He counts to ten. He listens to the sounds of the woods around them. Nothing unusual. It comforts him.

“I miss running water,” Courfeyrac says forlornly. With his head in Combeferre’s lap, he looks up into the night sky. “I’m a slut for a hot shower, what can I say?”

Bahorel groans. “I’m changing mine. I’d kill for a real shower.”

“Okay, Ep, your turn. What do you miss most?” Grantaire looks across the fire at her.

“Orgasms,” Eponine just smiles shamlessly.

“Ew.” Gavroche pulls a face.

“And I mean real ones. Sex. Not five minutes in the bushes by myself. Or at least some fucking batteries to help a girl out.” Grantaire laughs as Gavroche starts retching.

“’Ponine,” Gavroche whines.

“Shut up,” Eponine rolls her eyes.

“What about you, Enj?” Courf asks.

Enjolras bites the inside of his cheek. He’s tried to let them have their fun; he really has. No point in ruining it now.

“I don’t miss anything,” he says, not taking his eyes off the fire. It’s quiet for a moment.

“You must miss something,” Bahorel prods. Enjolras just shakes his head.

Not one for tact, Gavroche snorts. “Must be real fuckin dirty or something.”

“Gav-“ Eponine glares at him.

“I don’t miss anything because that’s a waste of my energy.” Enjolras says. “It’s dangerous. If I start letting myself miss something, thinking about everything I used to have, it’ll make me nostalgic. Miss the fucking ‘before times.’ I’ll realize I have nothing to live for except another day of this. Survival will only be rewarded with more survival. It’s akin to giving up. Everything you miss is gone, and it’s never coming back.”

He takes a breath, looks around at the faces starring back at him across the fire. Varying levels of surprise. Enjolras distantly realizes that his breathing is ragged. Courf sits up.

“Enj-” he tries. Enjolras abruptly stands, sparks flying as he drops his stick in the fire.

And then he turns on his heel and stalks off.

---

He keeps poking at the fire. At this point he’s probably doing more damage than anything, but he needs something to do to keep him awake.

He’d insisted that he be on watch when he returned. Combeferre tried to argue, but Enjolras took the childish way out. He sat down next to the fire. He refused to move.

Time passes in a strange way out here. Leaps and bounds one moment, nearly at a standstill the next. He doesn’t know how much time passes before he hears footsteps. He doesn’t turn, knows the steps are too loud, too deliberate to be danger.

He isn’t surprised when Courfeyrac sits down next to him. They sit there silently for a while. Enjolras pokes needlessly at the fire.

“Enj-”

“Please don’t,” Enjolras interrupts him for the second time tonight.

“Enjolras.” Courfeyrac’s tone is not unkind. Enjolras doesn’t turn to him.

And then there is a hand on his cheek, gentle. Courf has always been so gentle. He presses softly, and Enjolras complies, turning to meet his gaze.

“When was the last time you slept?”

“I’m fine,” Enjolras insists.

“That’s not an answer.” Enjolras stays quiet, so Courf continues. “You’ve been on watch for the past three nights. Don’t think I haven’t noticed.”

“Can’t sleep anyway,” Enjolras admits.

“You have to take care of yourself. You can’t be tired out here. Not like this.”

Enjolras knows he’s right.

“This is dangerous,” Courfeyrac presses on. “For all of us.”

Enjolras keeps worrying the inside of his cheek.

“You need to sleep. Please. If not for you, then for the rest of us.”

Enjolras huffs a little. “You really know how to get under my skin, you know that?”

“Yeah,” Courfeyrac drops his hand from Enjolras’s cheek, offers him a smile. “I do.”

“I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.”

“No,” Enjolras sighs. “I don’t.”

They sit quietly for a moment. Enjolras continues to listen to the sounds of the woods.

“Sleep,” Courf presses. “Long day tomorrow. We need to keep moving south.”

“Right,” Enjolras says, standing. He hands Courf his stick. “Keep the fire going. It’s getting colder,” he tells him.

“I will,” Courfeyrac promises.

Enjolras barely manages sleep that night. He tosses and turns, stares blankly into the dark. But eventually he falls into something fitful that one might call sleep.

When he wakes, there are hints of daylight. He hears the others starting to rise, packing up their sparse belongings. He emerges from his tent.

The fire is dead.

And it’s time to move on.

#the miserables month #day 2 #fire #les mis #enjolras #courfeyrac #combeferre #grantaire #most of the gang really #zombie apocalypse AU #writing//mine

8 notes · View notes

boxboysandotherwhump · 4 years ago

Text

Friends? and festivities!

Tags: @salamancialilypad @whumpfigure @albino-whumpee @comfy-whumpee @ashintheairlikesnow @haro-whumps @moose-teeth @vickytokio @yet-another-heathen @orchidscript

Chapter 1

CW: We’re off to a fairly relaxed start with only mild whumpy undertones in this one

The warm summer breeze carried a whiff of lavender from the safe zone’s border into the village and Charlotte’s blouse stuck to her skin while she strolled through dusty streets.

People laughed as they hurried past her and Kaja, carrying fresh bread, flower garlands, and pieces of fruit to the marketplace. The Bromberg twins chased after a roly-poly, screaming after the poor creature that scuttled up a rooftop to escape its fate as a chitin-shelled pony knock-off. Charlotte felt giddy just thinking about tomorrow's festival. She’d seen Mara run around the orphanage with a strawberry bigger than her head today, declaring it the undefeatable champion among the offerings.

Kaja chattered beside her, overflowing with life while they made their way out the village center. Charlotte had always found her effervescence oddly infectious and wished she had more in common with the blonde, toothy-smiled woman than blue eyes and their love for dancing. But where Kaja was all round, warm cheeks with a heart soft as her belly, Charlotte had always been rough edged, restless.

“I wonder how big the watermelons are gonna be this year,” Kaja mused. Her pale green skirt fluttered in the breeze. “Hey Charlotte. What do you think? Will six people fit in one this time?”

“Six toddlers maybe,” Charlotte quirked a pale eyebrow. “You know that the mutation cycle needs more than a year to double plants in size.”

Her eyes flitted over the forest, its endless expanse encircling the village’s border. In the far distance, colossal trees cast the land under them in darkness. Colored patches on maps eternally midnight-black.

“But what is our knowledge worth, if the only thing we can say for sure is that we know nothing about the woods.”

“Party pooper.” Kaja grinned, long skirt puffing as she twirled around. “We’ve got a festival to organize. There’s no time for long faces.”

“I’m merely-“

“Miss Kaja, Charlotte. Hello!” Micha’s voice boomed from up ahead and both women turned to the bakery, smiling at the young man leaning in the doorway.

A few black curls stuck out from underneath his white cap, drawn down to hide flushed cheeks. He was covered in specks of flour, white smudges were smeared all over his apron and forearms.

Kajas face lit up as they strolled over to the red brick house, tucked between the street's curve and a grassy hill, solitary and half swallowed by ivy. Only the display window’s nook was meticulously cut free and filled with cream pies and cookies.

“Hey Micha,” Kaja beamed, “Say, have you planned something for tomorrow?”

A bright smile split his lips, eyebrows raising conspiratorially as he leaned closer. His voice dropped into a sing-song whisper. “That’s a secret.”

Charlotte huffed a laugh. “Mind to give us a tip?”

“Nah.” Micha flicked his cap’s brim up. “M not gonna spill. Y ’all’ll see tomorrow.”

“Okay mister mysterious. Tomorrow then,” Kaja smiled, skirt swishing around her ankles as she turned to leave. Giving one last wave over her shoulder, Charlotte strolled after her.

Micha flushed red like his brick house, gawking after the two as they strode up the hill road. “Yeah. See ya.”

Charlotte nudged Kajas shoulder, unable to contain a snicker. “Mister mysterious, hm?!”

The tease tinted Kajas cheeks pink. “So what?! Wait till we’re at the farm and you see snail-boy again.”

Charlotte bristled, upper lip curling back as she hurried ahead to the roadside where little stone steps parted the bushes and cut their narrow path through thick underwood; up to the snail farm.

“He is just- We are merely trading books. Sometimes!” She took two steps at a time, grumbling. “It’s not like we're close or anything.”

–

The old two story house stood proud on its little plateau, encircled by tree roots so massive they nearly reached its shingle roof. Its bricks had been laid one at a time, many summers ago, and little extensions had grown over the years, some extra rooms that stuck out from one side, the kitchen with its thatched roof. The grass surrounding it was short, completely gone in some muddy patches where it had fallen victim to the snail’s insatiable hunger. They roamed the forest floor, finding every new sapling, eating every fresh blossom, and kept the ever growing woods at bay.

Every other day Sahar would herd them onto the orphanage’s grounds, reading while the snails feasted. He would sit in a patch of shadow, nose buried in a book - just like he was now, back resting against the root beside the tiny staircase that led up to the plateau. His short hair stuck up every which way and his dark boots were covered in grass stains. The big silvery-white scar on his right arm was barely visible in the shade.

Charlotte watched with a smile as Sahar gently pushed a snail’s head down, away from the fruit pieces beside him, snickering as it retracted one eye.

“Really Asmodea?” He murmured. “Didn’t didn’t, didn’t I just feed you an, an hour ago?”

Kaja knocked on the low wooden gate to their front yard and Sahar flinched. He had always been jumpy, Charlotte wondered.

“Hey there. It’s us. Say, are Moira and Ansgar home?”

The book slipped from his fingers as he leaped to his feet. His voice barely carried over the short distance. “Hey, hello, hi. Yeah, yes. They’re home. I- I’ll, I’ll go get them. Come in. The- the, the the snails don’t bite.” His nervous smile faltered. “Well, with- without having teeth and and and all-“

Sahar bit his lip, stopping himself, before he hopped over the root and vanished behind big wooden doors into the house.

–

Charlotte had never been inside the farm before, had only ever seen the grey bearded farmer and his wife down in the teahouse chatting with others or when they had to run some errands. Back before Sahar had seemingly appeared out of thin air. Since then, he’d been the one to handle their affairs, readily shooed this way and that.

Ansgar had simply dragged the boy into the teahouse one day, declaring him his new hireling without bothering to explain where he had come from or how a mere child had survived the outsides! Eight years later the question still remained, lingered over the dimly lit marketplace like teapot steam. The people had given up their questions and inquisitions, at least. Their storm of curiosity had burst against the couple’s stone set silence.

Charlotte had barely followed the discussion about the snail riding they planned to organize at the orphanage tomorrow, too preoccupied by Sahar entering the living room while he balanced five cups and a teapot on a tray, setting it carefully onto the table. Its wooden surface was worn smooth over countless shared meals and long evenings filled with games and chatter.

A faint eucalyptus smell tickled her nose as Sahar timidly slid a cup over to her and she couldn’t help but wonder how on earth they had gotten their hands on eucalyptus? The last delivery of it had been years ago.

Charlotte watched Sahar drag a stool over from beside the high, over-cramped bookshelf, so small he had to kneel on it to be on eye level with the rest of them, and took a first tentative sip.

Chamomile?! Had her nose played a trick on her?

“We really should get going.There’s just so much left to organize.” An apologetically smile danced on Kaja’s lips, turning mischievous. “But we’ll come back for another round of tea soon. Right, Charlotte?”

She shot Kaja an irritated look, catching Moiras knowing grin. The woman’s slim observant eyes crinkled with her crooked smile. Moira’s greying, artfully pinned locks swished softly as she turned to Sahar. “I’ll bet our little barista will gladly serve you again? Isn’t that true, Sahar?”

Sunkissed brown fingers drummed a soft rhythm against the artfully painted clay of his tea cup as he mumbled, “Yes.”

Coughing, Ansgar stacked their cups in two neat little piles on the tray. “There’s really lots t’ do. But let’s take ya down the road a bit. It’ll do us all good gettin’ some fresh air.”

Both she and Sahar hurried to get up, grateful for the distraction. He grabbed the tray, smiling at Ansgar on his way to the kitchen.

#whump #whump writing #mutant whumpee #mutant whump #post apocalypse #post apocalypse whump #writing #writblr #whumpblr #some flowers have teeth #charlotte #sahar

27 notes · View notes

soniaxdixon · 4 years ago

Text

The New World; Series Pt 2

Okay so this is my first time writing a fic and obviously will be my first series but I’ve just rewatched TWD for like the 17th time and my obsession with Daryl has reached new levels. I hope that it isn’t too shit and that you guys actually read/like it. Thank you in advance for baring with my average writing but I mean, how else will I learn? Anyway, enjoy!

Sonia x

Set pre to early season 1, back story for when the world ended.

Part 2 of ??

Summary: Y/N Grimes is Rick’s younger hot headed sister. When Rick gets shot and falls into a coma, Y/N’s world ends. Y/N Finds herself at a quarry near Atlanta with her nephew carl, sister in law Lori and her best friend Glenn where she meets her new family including the equally hot headed redneck Daryl Dixon. Over time Y/N and Daryl begin to form a friendship, finally allowing one another to open up to someone and maybe finding someone they can actually love.

Warnings! Slowish burn but the feels are there from the start, swearing, A little angst.

Words; 1774

This part focuses more on Season 1 Episode 3 ‘Tell it to the frogs’ We have a little reunion and start to explore Daryl and y/n’s relationship a bit more. - Sorry in advance if there are any errors, I didn’t really edit it properly

Like every morning, you were woken up by the sounds of your friends talking outside and the morning light forcing your eyes open. You rose, got dressed and stepped out of your tent your heart jumping when a big figure grabbed your shoulder suddenly, without warning.

“Jesus fucking christ, Daryl. A little heads up that you’re behind me next time? Shit.”

The ends of his lips curled into a small smile that made your stomach flip with butterflies. The power this man had over you already was immense. “M’ goin’ huntin’, shouldn’t be too long. Let Merle know if he gets back.” And with that, he was gone, not even giving you a chance to respond, his crossbow over his shoulder, hastily making his way into the woods. You couldn’t help but stare until his figure finally disappeared among the trees.

You looked over and saw Carl getting his haircut by Lori. He locked eyes with you and mumbled a plea for help. You shook your head and laughed at his suffering face. Catching on to the end of their conversation, you sat down next to Shane who was cleaning his gun.

“Frogs, plural”

“Why do we need ‘Frogs, plural?’” Carl questioned

You zoned out for a second, looking off in the direction Daryl had headed. Your mind suddenly racing. What happens if he comes across a walker? What happens if he comes across lots of walkers. Did he have a gun or just his crossbow? Why did he go alone?

“What do you think, Y/N?” Shane’s voice broke you from your silent panic.

You just stared at him for a second and he read your confusion, he knew you had a habit of zoning out. “Cajun style kermit legs, what do you think?”

“Oh, gross. No thanks.” Your face contorted with the thought of eating frog legs cooked by Shane. “You can keep your frog legs, I’d rather eat dirt.”

Your conversation was halted by the sudden sound of a car alarm.

“What the fuck?” You questioned, your eyes focusing on Shane.

“Talk to me, Dale?” Shane leapt from his seat and made his way over to the RV

You stood next to Shane, your arms crossed protectively across your chest.

The car sped up the hill suddenly screeching to a halt, Glenn climbing out of the drivers seat instantly being hounded by questions and yelling.

“My sister, is she okay?” Amy asked glenn over and over.

“Yes, she’s fine, everybody is. Merle not so much.”

Your stomach dropped quickly at the thought of Merle not being okay. What would you tell Daryl?

You turned and shuffled quickly towards your tent, climbing inside and finding your water bottle. You sat down for a few minutes, taking steady drinks. Poor Daryl you thought to yourself. You knew what it was like to lose a brother. You were drawn from your thoughts by the sound of a truck pulling up. Exiting your tent again you made your way over to Lori and Carl, placing your hands on the boys shoulders.

Everyone was reuniting and for a second, everyone was happy. You felt Carl’s shoulders begin to shake as he started sobbing. Lori knelt down and comforted him as he cried again for his dad.

“How’d y’all get out of there anyway?” Shane asked

“New guy, he got us out”

“Hey helicopter boy, come say hello. Guy’s a cop, just like you.”

You looked up at Morales’s words and felt your knees turn in. Tears filled your eyes as he stood there in front of you.

“Holy shit” was all that came out of your mouth before you saw carl running past you

“Dad!”

You’ve never seen the boy run so fast as Rick pulled him to the ground in a hug. Picking him up and walking to Lori. Your heart swelling with love as he let go of them and his eyes found you.

“Oh my God.” He uttered as he grabbed you and you finally allowed your knees to drop. He held you up as he hugged you, tighter than you have ever hugged before. You had him back. The only thing that could keep you calm. Your big brother was alive.

That night you sat around a fire and listened to Rick talk about his experience. Waking up in the hospital only to find the world had fallen apart. They spoke about Merle, how he was handcuffed to a roof in Atlanta, how T-Dogg had dropped the key, how they would have to tell Daryl.

You couldn’t think about it anymore, you pushed yourself off he ground and leaned down, placing a kiss on Carl’s forehead and hugging your brother one more time for the day.

You walked over to your tent and went to sleep for the night. As usual, the only thing on your mind was Daryl but tonight, it wasn’t the usual thoughts of what it would be like if you were together. Tonight they were thoughts flooded with worry.

————

You scrambled for your clothes in the morning, pulling on some blue jeans and a black tee, pushing your way out of your tent and over to your group. The sudden sound of screaming had you running before you could even register what it was, pulling your knife from its sheath you sprinted towards the sound.

“Carl?” You yelled, Lori’s voice followed yours with the same question as she and rick ran behind you.

Lori grabbed him, “Nothing bit you, nothing scratched you?”

You ran with rick and the others to the source of the screaming. A lone walker feasting on a big deer. A deer with bolts in its side. The men began to beat the walker, forcing it to the ground before Dale cut its head off.

Sudden rustling drew you from your thoughts as you watched the bush intently.

“Son of a bitch, that’s my deer” the southern drawl all too familiar. “Look at it all gnawed on by this, filthy, disease bearin’, motherless, poxy bastard.”

You followed him back into the camp as he yelled out for his brother, “Merle! Get your ugly ass out here, got us some squirrels”

“Daryl, slow up a bit, I need to talk to you” with the words that Shane said, your stomach began to churn.

“Bout what?”

“Bout Merle, there was a problem in Atlanta.”

“He dead?” Daryl asked, you could see the panic etching his face slowly.

“Not sure.” Shane answered

“He either is or he ain’t” obvious venom dripped from his words as he stared at Shane, waiting for his next answer.

Your eyes turned to Rick as he stepped in suddenly, “no easy way to say this so I’ll just say it.”

“Who the hell are you?”

“Rick Grimes”

“Rick Grimes” Daryl mocked “You got something you wanna tell me?”

“Your brother was a danger to us all so I handcuffed him on a roof, hooked to a piece of metal”

Before you knew it, things escalated. Daryl threw the squirrels and pulled out a knife.

Within seconds the knife was on the floor and Shane had daryl in a choke hold. You couldn’t control yourself and you threw yourself at Shane, hitting his back, “Let go of him” You were grabbing at his shirt trying to pull him off when Glenn grabbed your arms as you struggled against him.

“Fucking let him go Shane or I’ll cut your fucking hands off.” At this point Glenn was forcing his hand over your mouth to shut you up and you finally complied when Shane let Daryl out of the choke hold.

You stormed off to your tent so you wouldn’t react again. Thoughts raced through your head. Why the hell did you do that, what on earth possessed you? You and Daryl had hardly spoken and yet you were suddenly threatening one of your closest friends just so he would let him go. Get your head on straight Y/N, Daryl’s gonna think you’re a crazy bitch now.

About 30 minutes later, Rick headed over to your tent to check on you, you had calmed down at this point but you were still pissed at Shane. “I’m taking, Daryl, Glenn and T-Dogg back into Atlanta to get Merle.”

“Okay, I’ll come.”

“No, I want you to stay here.”

You snapped “What the hell is with everyone thinking they have say in where I go.”

“I want you here in case something happens, You’ve taken care of Lori and Carl since the start and I need to know you will protect them while I’m gone.”

Your eyes softened as you shot him an apologetic look. “Where’s Daryl?”

“He’s in his tent, packing his bag.”

You squeezed ricks shoulder and found yourself walking to the edge of your camp, to Daryl’s tent.

“Hey, are you okay? I’m sorry about your brother.”

“Why the hell would ya even care? Just leave me be” He was obviously hurt and his tone stung you.

“Geez okay, sorry for checking on you, prick.” You mumbled the last word walking away before his hand grabbed your shoulder, sending chills down your back as he quickly pulled away.

“M’ sorry. Thanks for checking.”

You just looked at him but your face eased out of the scowl you had before hand.

“Why’d ya jump on Shane like that before? I thought that asshole was your friend.”

“Yeah kinda. We grew up together, he Rick and I. He’s just kinda always been a part of my life ya know. When I thought I lost Rick, he became an even bigger part and I think seeing him dismiss your brother like he was nothing riled me up because I know what its like to lose a brother. I was just lucky enough that mine came back somehow.”

Daryl never broke eye contact with you, watching as slight tears stung your eyes when you thought about losing Rick. “You’re gonna find him. He’ll be fine and you’ll bring him back.” He just continued to look at you as his mind raced with thoughts. This was the longest that you two had spoken, you were actually telling him something about yourself and something in his chest felt like it was on fire. You reached out and he flinched slightly, you put your hand carefully on his shoulder. “He’ll be okay Daryl, You’ll be okay.” You gently squeezed as you turned around to head back towards your tent.

You heard him barely whisper “Thanks.”

“Come back in one piece please.” You whispered back, just loud enough that he could hear you and the fire in his chest grew.

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixion imagine #daryl dixon x grimes reader #you x daryl dixon #y/n grimes x daryl dixon #y/n x daryl #y/n x daryl dixon #twd #twd fic #twd series #twd fic series #the walking dead #the walking dead fic

37 notes · View notes

thecandywrites · 3 years ago

Text

The Beginning of Stormbreaker Part 4 Finale

Ok, so unless you haven’t figured it out, Butternut- is my version of a Shae Nut, But the nuts are in this lovely fruit pictured above, that in my mind tastes like a creamy mango with hints of melon and papaya. And this lovely red apple looking fruit on the right is Dragon Heart Fruit which in my mind has the flavor of Lychee, mango and pinapple, still very tropical tasting. Also the lovely ladies above, on the top row on the left, that is Grat, Drad and Sarg’s mother, and on the left is Shari, Rhos’ and Esri’s mother.

Part 4

It took over a week of going back and forth to the dragon’s lair to get all the scales and usable leather, sinew and good bones along with the dragon’s small horde of gold, jewels and other precious items, which when divided evenly between Rhosland, Esri, Drad and Sarg along with equal portions allotted to their mothers and Orcoth in addition to Rhos and Esri’s already gathered pearls which Rhos and Esri gave a portion of the pearls to their mother, Grat and Orcoth so that all seven of them would be richer, despite the failed raid while Esri and Rhos kept all the beautiful shells to keep to make jewelry later.

Drad and Sarg happily ground down the good left over dragon bones into a fine powder back at camp while they rested and healed at remarkably fast rates, thanks to the dragon bone. By the time they had managed to forage all they could and the suits of armour for all four of them and three breast plates at least for Rhos’ and Esri’s mother as well as Orcoth, were done, they decided to head back to Skull Screamer, the four of them in the little row boat with extra large rafts tied to the boat behind them, that Sarg and Drad had built to carry all the smoked and preserved meat and fish and other foraged goods along with a few cuttings of the tree in the dragon’s cave and baskets that Drad and Sarg had woven themselves while they hung out at Rhos’ and Esri’s campsite out of the tall grasses to hold all the fruit from the tree and others and all the seeds left behind from the tree that had fallen in previous years that had been in a heap under the tree along with the fruits of the Butternut bush and hundreds of wild rose buds to make rose soap along with the ash from the smoker to get the lye to make the soap needed.

However when they came rowing back up Skull Screamer’s main river Rhos and Esri looked worriedly to Drad and Sarg as everyone in the village looked at them like ghosts before they noticed that once they came upon Drad and Sarg’s mother’s house both of their mothers and Orcoth came out of the house as both their mothers were so happy and overjoyed to see their children come back as Drad and Sarg pulled the boat and the rafts up onto the shore as they were immediately surrounded by everyone.

“You’re alive!” Shari cried as she embraced her daughters as her daughters embraced her in turn.

“Of course we are alive, why did you think we were dead?” Rhos asked her mother.

“Because Zash and his sons, got lost in fog and attacked Hurricane Breaker. And when Drad and Sarg’s horses along with many others came back without their riders and blood on their saddles, we assumed the worst and imagined that you and Esri had camped too close to the accidental battlefield and got caught up in it.” Shari cried.

“We heard the battle but it was at a distance and we stayed inside the tent until the sounds of the battle stopped, and after the battle ended we were approached by Captain Tilge of Hurricane Breaker and her warband of shieldmaidens. But once we explained what we were doing there and that Skull Screamer must have gotten lost in the fog and had no intention of attacking and thus, we had no intent to harm them or their clan and they believed us and believed that we were younglings because of our size and saw that we were unarmed and therefore not a threat, they had no quarrel with us and left us in peace and safety and even discouraged anyone else in Hurricane Breaker from coming to us and to leave us alone. In fact they happily shared a meal with us and struck up a friendly peace with Esri and I and to signify that peace, I gave her the tribute necklace I had given to Shadi and Esri gave her the bracelet that she had made for Baka as tribute that they gave us as bride gifts when we left but when they said that Tar had been killed, we knew we weren’t going to be marrying him and when Drad and Sarg found us and we healed them from their own wounds. And when they were healed enough to walk on their own we came back.” Rhos explained to her mother and others who had come to see her for themselves.

“What happened here while we were gone?” Rhos asked her mother.

“Well after Zash unwittingly got lost in the fog and accidentally attacked Hurricane Breaker, he and his men died in the raid. As did all of Zash’s sons, we thought only the few men of the other warbands survived and came back and reported that everyone else had died. So almost all the people who came to deliver bride gifts before you left, came and demanded them back since you would not be brides to Tar. And it’s only because Grat opened up her home to me that I had any place to go. The whole clan thought that you and Esri’s joining Tar’s family was a bad sign of disapproval from the gods and would confuse them and thus sent the fog that caused us to lose everyone that we did, so Shadi and Baka, they burned down our house in retribution for losing Tar and in the commotion they gave birth only a few days ago, both to girls.” Shari revealed as Rhos and Esri gasped in horror as they stared at their neighbors in outrage who by now were lowering their heads in shame and backing away.

“What kind of madness is this?! No! It was Zash’s and Tar’s own stubbornness and confusing leadership that led to us unwittingly attacking Hurricane Breaker and if it had not been for Shaman Orcoth who gave me prophetic advice that I and Sarg listened to his words and survived. And it was Rhosland and Esri who took us in and healed us and concealed us from Captain Tilge and did so in such a way to keep themselves and us above suspicion. Which takes courage and faith and loyalty. They have been blameless and Sarg and I both saw over the last week or so how Esri and Rhosland have been nothing but blessings for us. They healed us with medicine they instinctively know, they fed us from the game they were able to kill all on their own and they even shot down a bear and had victory over it. And then they found the hissing rocks which they realized wasn’t actually a cursed place but discovered that it was an old dragon’s home, the dragon had been trapped inside and had a tree growing from it’s chest to the roof of the place and when they investigated it, they collected the dead dragons scales and leather and made us these exquisite suits of armor and these weapons that have no compare and even used the bones to heal our own broken bones. Which is why we are at full health after only a week of sustaining almost fatal injuries. They are not a curse, they never were, they are our blessing and salvation and I am more than honored to have Rhos as my mate as is Sarg to have Esri. And just look what they were able to capture when they were given the right tools- they were more than successful.” Drad pointed out as he gestured to his suit of armor and then gestured to all the food and other supplies on the boat and on the rafts for emphasis as proof of what he was saying.

“So Mother Shari- I would be more than happy to build you a house of stone and timber to replace the one of bricks that you lost. And don’t worry about anything that you lost, I will see to it that you are given at least twice what you have previously lost. Thank you Mom for doing the right thing by taking her in.” Drad declared as he grasped her hands and comforted her.

“So, I have an announcement. Since Shadi and Baka had girls and that no one from Zash’s male line survived, as Tar’s First Commander of Captains, I hereby take the position of Warchief and I appoint Sarg as my Warlord and we will claim the neutral land that is just south of Hurricane Breaker and North of here since Rhosland and Esri are in a peace treaty with them. Since that land already gave us so much, it will give us more- still. And all those who did not get to take back their bride gifts to Rhosland and Esri are free to do so now that they are back. But know that if you do, you will not be welcome in Stormbreaker which is the clan I will be starting there, and all those that did and had a hand in burning down Shari’s house, will also not be welcome in Stormbreaker either and you will reap such unforgivable disrespect and never again will such things ever be permitted let alone tolerated.” Drad announced as Rhos had never been more proud of him as Esri and Rhosland put the tanned bear hide over their mother and comforted her and gave her, her fair share of the dragon’s horde.

Then Shari told her daughters exactly who had come and wanted what they gave back and remembered still who had given what before Esri and Rhosland spitefully got all of it out of their row boats and rafts and forced it back into the hands of those who had given it in the first place and wanted it back even though the others, out of fear of Drad and Sarg and their new announcement had tried to go back on their word and their previous choices before Rhos and Esri simply let the gifts fall to the ground at the giver’s feet and wanted nothing to do with them before they unloaded everything else into Grat’s house which she didn’t have that big of a house to begin with but all of them did their best to squeeze themselves and all that they had foraged and hunted into it as Esri and Rhos gave Orcoth, Grat and Shari some of the dragon bone powder as it healed Orcoth immediately so that he did not have to limp as Shari and Grat both seemed to regain some of their youth and vigor and soundness of mind and body.

“I tried to tell the clan that all of you were still alive and well but they didn’t believe me, but I think they will now.” Orcoth noted to Drad and Sarg who had readily accepted Sarg as his father also while they feasted on the smoked and preserved venison’s tenderloins and backstraps, the best parts of the venison along with the mushrooms and other foods that they had managed to forage for.

“You should take Rhos home with you and prove to the whole clan that you’re verile though Warchief Drad.” Orcoth suggested to Drad.

“Oh he already did.” Rhos laughed as she blushed prettily and beamed happily.

“But he needs to prove it to everyone else. Here, burn this in the fireplace. It will help Warchieftess.” Orcoth said to Rhosland as he gave her a small sack of incense.

“Come on, let’s show Shadi and Baka how it’s done at least.” Drad grinned giddily with a wink that made Rhos blush even harder.

“Ok fine.” Rhos agreed before she hugged everyone goodbye and took what meager possessions that her mother was able to save as Drad carried their portion of the food and other belongings to his own home that was close to Shadi’s and Baka’s house since he was the First Commander of Captains, he had the “privilege” of having a house close to Tar’s as they noticed that Rhos and Esri’s boat was now empty boats and rafts getting filled with the previous gifts that they had been given along with even more gifts and notes of deepest and most sincere apologies before Drad built a good fire in his stone fireplace before Rhos threw in small handful of incense into the fire and noticed the smell was heavenly as her whole body immediately reacted to it and she felt her whole body relax and her spirit soar and become happy as Drad then reverently made love to her with so much love and passion that Rhos lost count of how many times she had accepted her pleasure from him as the incense helped her forget all about the clan around them and Drad encouraged her to not hold back but to moan and keen and cry out in ecstacy as loud as she wanted so that he could make no mistake if he was truly pleasing her and quietly made her promise and swear to never fake her pleasure with him which she was all too happy to do as she was so overwhelmed with bliss she would have agreed to just about anything he asked of her.

Come morning, Shadi and Baka were disgusted that they had to endure the sounds of Rhos’ and Esri’s love making and demanded that Drad and Sarg take all who wanted to follow them with them but that they needed to leave sooner than later, while anyone who wanted to stay true to Skull Screamer was welcome to stay but that anyone from Skull Screamer that left to join Stormbreaker were never going to be welcome back again when Stormbreaker failed and imploded as Rhos readily agreed to those terms as an equal Warchieftess to Shadi with the stipulation that any from Skull Screamer who wished to come into Stormbreaker would first need to make their peace with herself, her sister and especially their mother before they would be welcomed into Stormbreaker as this was announced in Skull Screamer’s town hall for the whole clan to hear.

It took another week for everyone to pack all of their things and break their houses down to reuse the lumber and load them onto new boats they built themselves but over three quarters of Skull Screamer left to join Stormbreaker as Drad and Rhos used the stones from the Dragon’s own old lair as the foundation stones for their own house since just nearby was the wild rose bush that would take up the front yard of the home and easily pushed the stones over to make a large, surprisingly flat and even foundation that had plenty of space to dig down to make a root cellar and have a lovely inner courtyard where the original tree that had been growing from the dragon’s chest still stood.

Others in the clan followed suit, using the very large but smooth stones from the rivers and streams to first dig down to set the foundation stones securely then build up with more stone and motar made from the clay from the little islands as they redirected all the little side streams into the main river and used the forrest of stone timbers to use for their houses before they all happily made new markers and marked out their territory, leaving a little space between Hurricane Breaker to the North, and Skull Screamer to the South and Bone Crusher to the East.

Rhos and Esri were pleased to learn that Captain Tilge was now Warchieftess Tilge since she led the victory over Skull Screamer and between Tilge and Rhos, they made their own peace and alliance that Drad and Tilge’s husband Warchief Murzol agreed to as well as Rhos readily offered a good sized cutting of the wild rose bush to Tilge and a cutting of the Butternut Bush as well as a cutting of the tree that was in the dragon’s cave and gave them to Tilge to plant in her own home’s garden so that she could continue to have the wild rose scented soap and the fruits of the tree as Tilge taught Rhos how to make it herself and many other kinds of soap as well which Rhos readily learned and took to heart as Tilge and Rhos exchanged seeds and seedlings and saplings for the gardens of Stormbreaker and Hurricane Breaker.

While Rhos and Drad were still living in Drad’s re-erected home on Stormbreaker’s territory next to their new home that they were building on top of the dragon’s lair, while they both worked on cutting down stone timbers to construct their new house over the stones. No sooner had they fell the first tree before a storm blew in but didn’t topple any tents or other homes but when the storm cleared, they found a fleet of ships moored and marooned on the shore of their beach that they had claimed.

The crews of the ship were sick with scurvy and other ailments and close to death, had all the older commanding officers die from the sickness, just leaving the younger, newer orcish sailors who were barely bigger than grunts left alive. Drad offered them a choice, give up the vessels and all their cargo and they would be welcome into Stormbreaker’s clan and Rhos and Esri would use what was left the fruits and bone powder to heal them. Which the younger orcs readily accepted but they immediately knew that the fruit was known as Dragon Heart Fruit. It usually only grew on the islands that were the birthplace of dragons in the world after the convergence of the spheres and that dragons often came back to the islands to mate every so often and always had at least one seed of the fruit in their gut and when they died somewhere in the world, often the seed would sprout in a dragon’s dead guts, close to it’s heart so that it always looked like the tree sprouted from the dragon’s chest and the fruit was vaguely heart shaped and did best when planted in a gut pile of another animal when not planted as a cutting or sapling. And was famed for it’s taste along with it’s nutritional value and it’s ability to heal as well.

The sailor orcs did not know where they were, only where they were from and have a vague where they were going and had lost their maps in the storms and their cargo was actually the goods to go into a palace of a king. And so Rhos and Drad got the first picks of all the cargos as Rhos put a special piece of paper with a mark to tag all that she wanted from all the holds, then Esri and Sarg were given their turn to stake claim to what they wanted, then Orcoth, as Stormbreaker’s shaman was given his pick of what he wanted and then Shari and Grat were also given their picks of whatever they wanted from the holds and the rest was given to the rest of the clan including the young orcish sailors who were excited to claim the goods they had coveted all this time, especially the large barrels of spices that were distributed to everyone in the clan evenly, except for Drad and Rhos who each got a triple portion, being Warchief and Warchieftess. Sarg and Esri, Orcoth, Shari and Grat were all individually given double portions as well to signify their high status as Orcoth happily claimed Grat and Shari as his wives, each of them equal in his eyes and in his heart and loved and cared for them the same way Drad cared for Rhos and the same way Sarg cared for Esri as both Shari and Grat were happy to finally have a husband who cared for them and took care of them they way they had always wanted and needed but never could manage before.

Drad insisted that the first house to be built and finished should be Orcoth’s as his father and shaman which Orcoth happily accepted and Drad made good on his promise that both his mother and Shari both received more than double of whatever they had lost, the replacements being of much better and finer qualities than what Shari had previously lost as their house was built right next door to Drad and Rhosland’s house, Drad and Rhosland’s house being the second house to be built and finished and furnished and thanks to som ingenuity on Rhosland’s part, the foundations were stone, the floors, tiled, the walls were of stone timbers but covered in special oil and tar to preserve the timbers and then covered with a special plastar that had been in a powdered form in barrels on the ships. That once it mixed with water- became a white paste that she and others used to coat the walls and the cielings and then used the paint powders to mix special batches of plastar to paint all the rooms inside and outside the room, the most beautiful vivd colors as the house was now large enough to have dozens of rooms and a courtyard with it’s own special garden on the inside and a medicine garden and food garden on the outside, the wild rose bush being cut into two, so that she had wild rose bushes on either side of the front porch of her house and even used the special glass domes that were on the ships as skylights in her own house and even made a second story and a roof with walls and ledges and built in benches and the little stream that had been flowing into the original dragon’s cave served as her home’s own personal plumbing line to get water in and out of the house. Happy that her own years of having a mud and mudbrick house serving as the finest teacher to help her build her new house to exactly how she wanted it as Drad was only all too happy to help her realize her dream and fell in love with the sheer beauty of it all and it only served to show off how much of a beautiful person inside and out that he married and once it was done, it was just as much of a work of art as it was a home as others took what was left to decorate and build their own homes in such ways, happy to have bright, beautiful colors to decorate their homes that the warm tones of wood only accented and accentuated as they noticed the homes now had naturally warming properties in the cooler weather and cooling properties in the warmer weather.

Sarg and Esri claimed the best captain’s quarters on the best ship as their home as once all the cargo was unloaded and the ships renovated into big fishing boats and docks were built on the beach so that the ships could anchor and be pulled up to the piers and decks and helped build a lighthouse and then the whole clan helped everyone else build their own homes all while Rhos’ and Esri’s baby bumps grew in size every day as the Shaman was adamant that Rhos and Esri were both definitely carrying sons.

Meanwhile Shadi and Baka were fighting a losing battle. More and more of the remaining few clan members of Skull Screamer stayed because Shadi and Baka ruled and behaved in the same way they had always done which now that they didn’t have the Clan Cheif and his eldest son backing them, now others did not hide their offense to their behavior and when Shadi and Baka tried simply taking what they wanted and what they felt they were owed, for the first time in their lives- it was denied to them.

Especially once the fleet of ships ran aground in Stormbreaker’s territory and Stormbreaker had effectively more than tripled in size and multiplied in wealth and success, to the point that the young sailors happily took on the widows and previous children of the fallen warriors of Skull Screamer after they grew bigger into full grown adults and after the widows had made amends to Rhos, Esri and especially to Shari as the widows were happy that instead of daughters being seen as a disappointment, but instead that every child was precious, they had no desire to go back to Skull Screamer.

Plus Rhos and Esri were the opposite of Shadi and Baka. Where Shadi and Baka were domineering and demanding, Rhos and Esri simply asked how they could help each family be successful, from having full gardens with all the medicinal and flavorfull herbs and other produce to each house having at least one if not several dragon heart trees growing. Using the gut piles of the all the kills of the game to plant the seeds themselves along with Butternut saplings and wild rose saplings and to never take whatever they wanted but only when the family’s needs and wants were met, if the family truly wanted to give anything as “tribute” they would accept it but never demand it and such behavior endeared them to the whole clan as Drad, Rhos, Sarg and Esri all encouraged each family to really pursue their interests and passions and took to fishing and trading instead of raiding as almost every woman in the clan now had at least one necklace of fine pearls each woman had collected from the shellfish in the waters of the river and the sea.

The sailors especially took after Drad’s example, along with Sarg’s and Orcoth’s and cared very lovingly and respectfully of their wives and adopted children since Drad always treated Rhos with the utmost care, respect and dignity so that all that was left of Skull Screamer now was Shadi, Baka and their mothers and their daughters, all living under Zash’s old, and by now, very leaky roof as all that was left was now their home and the clan’s old townhall, which had stood empty, unused and now forgotten as it was abundantly clear that the old prophecy was true, that Skull Screamer would fall when under the guidance of a lone Clan Cheiftess or Warchieftess with no Clan Cheif or Warchief.

Once Rhos and Esri both went into labor at about the same time and both gave birth to sons- who Drad and Rhosland named their son Brock and Sarg and Esri named their son Cugas as both boys were almost identical and had heard that all who got to see them praised how big and healthy and handsome both baby boys were before even more babies were born the clan and much rejoicing took place.

Shadi and Baka had to humble themselves and admit defeat. They were almost out of food, soap, clothing, wood for their cooking fires and hearth even after taking down the other remaining houses and using them as fuel for their fires and what was left of all the gardens and thus- out of options. And came for Brock and Cugas’ birth festivals when they were one month old and out of danger and came wearing the best garments they had left to offer Rhos and Esri congratulations and to see Brock and Cugas who were themselves the most handsome baby boys they had ever seen because they both took after their mothers but they could still clearly see some of Drad’s and Sarg’s strong and handsome features in their sons.

“We have come on this most blessed day to offer our congratulations and a truce.” Shadi began.

“What was wrong with the agreement we agreed on a year ago?” Rhos asked curiously as she sat in her rocking chair on her porch and rocked Brock who slept blissfully away in her arms as Esri was next to her and also sitting in a rocking chair doing the same to Cugas, each woman having special puffed quilts over them and their sons.

“Skull Screamer has fallen, all that is left of it is us. And if you do not help us, we and our daughters will die of starvation, we can find no fish or any game or anything to eat on Skull Screamer’s lands. And all those who had at first agreed to stay true to Skull Screamer have left it to join the greater Stormbreaker and seeing it’s success, we can not blame them and we hold no grudge against them or you. In fact, if you will agree to help us, we give up all rights to all of Skull Screamer’s lands to Stormbreaker, and all we ask in exchange is a place in Clan Stormbreaker. And a space to have a home.” Shadi explained as she bowed her head submissively.

“But since we are the warchieftess’ and warlordess’ won’t you take us into your home? We will happily submit to Rhos as Warchieftess and or Esri as Warlordess and be second and or third wives to them, just like they were going to be to us had Tar survived.” Baka pleaded as Rhos gave Drad a meaningful look as he gave her a reassuring smile from his place next to her before he got up from his chair and stood on his porch above them and crossed his arms over his chest, still wearing that dragon scale armor proudly.

“I, Clan Chief Warchief Drad of Stormbreaker do accept all of Skull Screamer’s lands from your hands, and since you all have humbled yourselves to come and ask, you are now welcome to stay as clan members of Clan Stormbreaker. However, I will never let you into my home or my household because I will never tolerate any disrespect to my Clan Cheiftess Warchieftess Rhosland, who is my wife, my mate, my better half and my greatest friend and ally. Because lest you forget, I was there, sitting in the grasses when you came to Rhosland a year ago, to offer her- her own tributes to you- as your bride gifts to her - when Tar had announced that he would have her then but never got a chance to fully claim her. And I listened as both of you threatened Rhosland with death by drowning if she ever tried to usurp you or come between you and Warlord Tar. And I will never tolerate any threat or disrespect in any way, shape or form to her. And I honestly do not trust either you or your mothers to not harm Rhosland or her mother or sister or especially our son or Esri’s son who are still young and could still fall victim to you.” Drad leveled as Shadi and Baka both balked at him and stared in terror at him and flushed with shame or embarrassment.

“We did no such thing!” Shadi insisted.

“My girl is a good girl, she would never do that!” Shadi’s mother insisted.

“Really? Because I was there with Esri, also sitting in the grasses, out of your sight but well within hearing range, as you came and put those bracelets on her wrists and threatened her with similar things, are you calling the Clan Cheif Warchief and the Warlord of Clan Stormbreaker liars?” Sarg challenged angrily as he stood up and stood next to his brother and took a similar stance, with his arms crossed over his chest, standing between them and his own beloved wife.

“Shaman Orcoth, would you please shed light on this matter and make things clear for the whole clan?” Drad invited as he looked over at the other rocking chairs on his porch which Orcoth, Shari and Grat had taken up as Shari and Grat were still knitting baby clothes for their grandsons.

“Of course Warchief Drad. It would be my pleasure.” Orcoth grinned as he cast a spell and showed the whole thing, including all the cursing Shadi and Baka had done on the way too and from meeting with Esri and Rhosland as the whole clan gasped and murmured as they watched in horror the way Baka and Shadi were so domineering and just awful and led the attack on Shari and her humble old house and Grat’s kindness and compassion in saving Shari and what meager possessions she could before the show ended before Shadi and Baka’s mothers took the babes from their daughter’s arms and forced Shadi and Baka to kneel and bow down on their hands and knees with their foreheads touching the ground and started yelling and berating their “wicked” daughters for behaving so indecently and disrespectfully and pleaded for Drad and Sarg to show mercy and leniency on account of Baka’s and Shadi’s daughters who had started to cry by now which woke up Cugas and Brock and got them to start crying as well which upset Rhosland and Esri along with Drad and Sarg as Esri and Rhosland did all they could to comfort and console their sons as they brought their sons into Rhosland’s house to take a rest on the wonderfully comfortable couches that had been put there.

“What do you think we should do?” Drad asked Rhosland.

“Well now that everyone effectively knows that they are a bunch of liars. No one will trust them not to fall into the same pattern of behavior. But at the same time, their daughters have no choice in who their mothers are and they are still young and they shouldn’t have to suffer on account of their mothers. So let’s let them stay, but a very far distance away from our home, let them keep their old home, and they can turn it into a brothel for all I care.” Rhos answered him.

“Agreed.” Esri grinned.

“Agreed.” Sarg grinned too.

“Very well.” Drad nodded before he came back out to see that everyone was still there, waiting to see how Drad would react and how he would respond.

“On account of your daughters, who should not have to suffer on their mother’s account. You are allowed to be members of Clan Stormbreaker and you are allowed to either remain in your old house, or you may choose to rebuild here, that is your choice. But I warn any man in Stormbreaker from taking either of you as a bride, for no man would want such a wife as what you two have proven yourselves to be. Use whatever talents you have to earn your living here. And if you have none, then you can always turn your old home into a tavern which would be helpful, or possibly a brothel which in that case, neither Sarg or myself will ever use, your choice.” Drad announced as Baka and Shadi gasped in horror before their mothers slapped their hands over their daughter’s mouths to keep them from saying anything more.

“A tavern it will be then, thank you Clan Chief Warchief Drad.” Shadi’s mother graciously accepted on her daughter’s behalf as their old friends agreed to help build them before Drad went back into his house to be with his family and disbursed everyone so they could go about their day.

“So, a tavern it is.” Rhosland grinned since she could hear from the window in the wall.

“Yup, the first, of hopefully many.” Drad smiled before he sat next to his wife and enveloped her in a hug and kissed her sweetly as they both looked down at their son who was now awake and cooing softly to both of his parents.

“Just one thing, you’re not allowed to marry Shadi’s or Baka’s daughters when you grow up unless they are nothing like their mothers and you really, truly love them.” Rhosland told Brock which got Drad to laugh before Esri repeated that to Cugas too before there was a knock on the door and Drad got up to answer it before he found one of Sarg’s first mate.

“Warlord Sarg, there is a small merchant ship, that is trying to go up river to a city further up river, it’s requesting assistance in help guiding the ship up the river to the next clan’s lands, they are headed to the mountains in the east, said that there are towns called colonies in the mountains that they are trying to sell their goods to and are willing to pay us a fee of gold now and another fee in gold on the way out if we are willing to do it.” He reported before Drad and Sarg shared a meaningful look and both nodded to each other.

“Hell yeah, that’s an easy yes.” Sarg easily agreed before he got up and left the house to direct the other sailors on the shore to guide the ships using ropes on the shoreline to maneuver through the twisting and winding river before more and more merchant ships came to do the same, grateful that there was now a settlement here so that they could simply pay these orcs a small fee both to and from the mountain colony of Suchi as they brought in their vessels full of goods and would leave, having the boats laden with heaps of gold, happy and grateful that they didn’t have to use Hurricane Breaker’s river because Hurricane Breaker was bigger and stronger and demanded to inspect them and their cargo and demanded a portion of the goods, usually the best ones and half of all that they had, and a half portion of the gold the remaining half of the goods sold for at Suchi’s sister colony Twilla that their rivier eventually led to. And for just a flat fee, they could now make more money using this new clan of Stormbreaker and sell whatever didn’t sell at Suchi as part of their fee too.

And thus was the beginning of Stormbreaker.

#Of Heaven and Fire Prequel #The Beginning of Stormbreaker #Tada!#See? Wasn't that cute?#Orctober 2021

6 notes · View notes