#she is also the worst for making me like the damn bolts

[starshine-hockey-girl]

First, let's talk about the fact that you are getting me to comment positively on anything referring to Pat Maroon. I mean, I don't have anything against him personally other than he plays for TB Lightning which I don't hate nearly as much as before. Also, he is the fake Big Rig. It's not totally his fault but let's admit that he is an imposter.

Let's carry on though....

I can totally see Maroon being a connoisseur of BBQ. Apparently it is common trait among the Big Rig community

A tongue-tied NHL player is a trope that will get me EVERY time

Of course he comes back over and over for the "food"

I love that he has a special table. Who is coming in with him all those nights? Hmmmm.... Friends?

Dammit.... that Back are Back video killed it.

Of course, Tony Cirelli pinched in. He's a true romantic - just RW 2.0

Maroon volunteering doing dishes

Getting rewarded with TWO kisses

Restaurant will be booked for months.

Why am I envisioning a charity even with the staff being entirely made of Bolts players with fans as patrons?

ＩＭＡＧＩＮＥ: Becoming Pat's Favorite Local Restaurant Owner Celly’s 300 Follower Appreciation

-if there was one thing the tampa bay lightning organization prided itself on it was its involvement in the community

-and that didn’t stop with the donations they made each game

-players themselves hosted charity events

-donated their time at the hospitals and animal care facilities

-but today, Maroon and Bogosian were doing something a little different

-they were attending a grand opening of a new restaurant in town

-a connoisseur of barbeque Bogosion had accepted the invitation without hesitation

-and Pat, we was just along for the ride and the publicity

-that was until he got there

-the restaurant was buzzing with life

-and the food was impeccable

-he and Bogo were insistent on meeting the owner

-and waited until long after their meal was done for the opportunity

-and that’s when he spotted you leaving the table of the mayor

-you were eye-catching, beautiful

-and you were on the way to their table

-you were the owner

-Pat didn’t often find himself struggling to find the right words to say

-but all he could do as he shook your hand was smile

-it was Bogo who stepped in to break the bit of an awkward silence that crept up on the encounter

-and with his teammate’s help Pat was able to find his personality, pushing his sudden anxiety that came with meeting you aside

-and while the conversation that praised you and your staff was brief, it was memorable

-it lingered in Pat’s mind long after he and Bogosian had left the restaurant that night

-Pat found himself going to the restaurant more and more often during the team’s homesteads

-bringing some of his teammates with him each time with the bold claims 

-“the food there’s great, you won’t want to eat anywhere else” 

-and while it was

-you were the reason he kept coming back

-and the boys began to notice

-not even just from the frequency at which Pat brought them to the restaurant but with how he interacted with you

-he was always smiling

-and they had watched as the interactions had evolved from handshakes to quick embraces as you welcomed him into the restaurant

-he was your most loyal customer

-to the point where you often saved him his preferred table on nights you expected him

-but the more the bolts came to frequent the restaurant

-the more fans did as well

-and it often left you at capacity

-including one night when Pat came in with a few of the guys

-you were a little less composed than you usually were

-you had been short-staffed for the night leaving you to wait on tables and clean up after your guest

-“I’m so sorry Pat, we don’t have your table, and our wait is pushing 45 minutes-”

-but he could care less with how much time he had to wait

-he was too distracted by how you had messily tied back your hair and how it framed your face

-and how you had rolled up your sleeves and draped an apron over your hips

-he had never seen your so flustered, and yet you were still beautiful

-“we don’t mind the wait,” he assured, “everything okay?”

-“just a bit short-staffed tonight, but we’ll manage-”

-“well, you know, Tony here, he’s got some experience waiting tables”

-it earned a raised brow look from his teammate

-but it was true, Cirelli had a brief stint of waiting tables, or at least pretending to wait tables, during their Getting the Band Back Together video

-“i couldn’t ask him to do that-”

-you were shocked by the proposition, but Pat was insistent 

-“just until you get things back on track,” he assured as reached around the counter where you greeted guests for a stack of menus

-he handed them to Cirelli and offered him a smile

-behind Tony 2 young women waited to be seated at your next opening and they had been eyeing Tony with small smiles

-“how about you show these lovely ladies to their table”

-Tony awkwardly looked over the table chart and invited the ladies up, holding a casual conversation with them along the way

-leaving you and Pat at the counter of your busy restaurant

-“now,” he hummed as he stepped forward to pull the strings of the damp apron

-it was clear you had spent much of your evening in the dish pit 

-it fell from your hips and into his hands

-“how ‘bout you show me to the sink and I’ll take care of the mess for you-”

-“you’re a lifesaver Pat!”

-and before you could stop yourself you had wrapped your arms around him and pushed up onto your toes to place a kiss to his cheek

-but you didn’t give yourself or him enough time to react before you were moving through the restaurant to lead him to the sink

-he spent the night there

-long after the tables began to clear

-and long after Cirelli had finished his impromptu shift 

-his thank you was a hot meal, beer on the house whenever he stopped in, the tips her earned and the phone numbers left to him on napkins

-and even then it didn’t feel like enough to you

-Pat didn’t leave the dish pit until the last load was going into the sanitizer

-and you were there to greet him with a plate of food

-everyone else had gone home

-together you sat at his favorite table as he ate

-and you both enjoyed a beer

-“I’m never going to be able to properly thank you for what you did for me today-”

-but Pat didn’t do what he did with the expectation of being repaid

-he did it because in the short time of coming to know you, he came to care about you

-and wanted to see you succeed

-“you really don’t have to worry about it-”

-“when you came in tonight and saw how busy it was you could have just left, but you chose to help me instead. I can’t just let you walk away with nothing-”

-“I already got what I wanted tonight”

-you raised a brow at him 

-“oh yeah, what was that?”

-“great food, great company,” he hesitated a moment, “and a kiss.”

-you had hoped he had forgotten about that

-it had lingered on your mind all night

-the impulsive kiss on his cheek

-you had worried you had overstepped

-but it was clear now that wasn’t the care

-“I would hardly call that a kiss,” you scoffed and took a long sip of your drink before you stood up

-you rounded the table carefully and came to stand beside Pat

-one of his large hands stroked around your thigh and came to rest on the back of it

-and then you were leaning down and placed a soft and welcomed kiss on his lips

-still it didn’t feel like much of a thank you

-but with how he felt about you, you would have more than enough time to thank you in time

[zirconika]

if you're up for it, would love to see a mildly angsty fluff daryl x reader piece where reader is one of the people at the prison who gets hit with the flu and while daryl is explaining the plan to go get the meds, reader jokingly asks if he can bring back a treat if she promises to be a good patient. cut to the aftermath of the prison fall and reader ends up getting out with help from michonne before they run into rick and carl and eventually reunite with daryl during the stand off with the claimers. the next morning daryl and reader finally get a moment to themselves to just breathe for a second and daryl pulls out a lollipop he had found back at the gas station when they were on the medicine run and shyly hands it over to reader

five seconds

⇚ NAVIGATION || MASTERLIST

PAIRING: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader WORDS: 5.3k SUMMARY: Guilty for arguing with you right before you fell ill, Daryl’s determined to make it up to you by fulfilling your request. His goal to deliver it to you is interrupted by the fall of the prison and the intrusion of the Claimers. WARNINGS: angst to fluff. nose bleeding. expect mean daryl, i got mean daryl fever from crush by @ghostboneswrites2. attempted sexual assault during the claimers scene, basically the violence that took place during that particular scene.  A/N: yes i am up for it i love love love this idea!!! i added my own twist to it too :)) so sorry it took three days i had no idea how to start it hsejkrkwa also it ended up being longer than i intended for it to be. hope u like it nonnie ! reblogs are appreciated!

     Friends do things for each other, that’s just the way it is. Rick Grimes hands you a gun? Friends. Carol Peletier offers you a bowl of soup? Friends. Daryl Dixon looks at you for five long seconds before going to sleep? That’s… That’s classified.

     Okay, friends. You might have been reading into it.

     Friends—It’s what you tell yourself what you are with the archer whenever you volunteer to earn your keep alongside him who, for some reason, seemed to be blatantly avoiding you ever since that damned staring session. 

     It wasn’t the length of the stare. It was how he looked at you and how you felt yourself looking at him. The two of you were just returning to your respective cells, expecting the other to say goodnight only to end up staring at each other. The worst part is how it ended. 

     It was so quick that you could have missed it, but Daryl Dixon’s eyes fell to your lips for a split second before he turned away to hurriedly retreat to his cell. You tried not to think about it too much, but Daryl deliberately and very obviously dodging you made it hard to forget. 

     When you went out to hunt together as per routine, you expected to hold at least a conversation half a minute long. You missed talking to the archer, you had to admit it to yourself at least. Which is why it pissed you to the bone that the next time you ever talked again was the next accident.

     “I had it under control!” you yelled at the archer, who didn’t seem to be too interested in your defenses. At your feet lay a walker whose head had served as a target for a bolt you knew all too well.

     You watched as Daryl made his way over to you, fury evident in each step. “Hell ya mean under control? Ya ain’t cut out for huntin’! Ya should’ve sensed that walker from a mile away.”

     “Woah, woah,” you humorlessly exclaimed, “I’ve been hunting with you since like, ever. The fuck you mean ‘I ain’t cut out for huntin’?”

     “‘Cause ya aint! Could’ve gotten yerself killed, woman.” What was he so mean about?

     You didn’t want to admit it, but he was right to some degree. If he hadn’t arrived in time, you would’ve been dealing with the aftermath of a walker bite by now. But it did not give him the right to speak to you like that. “Oh, you are not talking to me like that.” 

     “Just did,” he spat. “Now ya listen to me. Yer gonna return to camp and yer gonna—”

     “Sit around and do nothing?” you scoffed, crossing your arms. “You want me to knit you some sweaters, too? Make you holiday cookies?”

     “Guard the damn fences,” he said. Daryl stepped forward to grab you by your arm. You dodge him before he could get a hold of you, glaring at him as you did so.

     “I can walk by myself, thanks.” Before disappearing into the woods to return back to the prison, you flipped the guy off. What was up with him? You angrily mumbled to yourself, “It was just a walker.”

     It’s been a while since that happened, and this time, it was you who didn’t dare to speak to him. You didn’t want to be the first one to approach him. After all, you did nothing wrong. And yet he had the audacity to avoid you again.

     But it wasn’t that there were zero interactions, though. There were a handful, however blood boiling they were. You exchanged a couple glares whenever your eyes landed on one another.

     The worst one was when Patrick extended his hand to Daryl in front of you while he thanked the archer for his contribution. After Daryl shook his hand, you had to butt in, standing up while eating a bowl of oatmeal instead of the cooked meat. 

     “Well, that’s Daryl! Isn’t he just great, Carol? Such an amazing huntsman!” you mused sarcastically, giving the three of them the brightest smile you could. Daryl could only watch as you walked away from the scene, his eyes drilling a hole at the back of your head as you kept going on and on: “I don’t know how I could ever compete!”

     It didn’t take long for the group to catch on the heat.

     You didn’t mind that part. What you did mind, though, was Daryl’s snide remarks whenever you’d mess up as a retort to what you’d said in front of Patrick.

     Dropped a spoon? “S’why ya can’t be outside, can’t even hold a damn spoon righ’.”

     But you weren’t gonna let that slide. Whenever he’d say something to the group, you had something up your sleeve, too.

     He found an old warehouse west of the prison? “Oh, how splendid. Daryl and his plans. Everyone say ‘Thank you, Daryl’!”

     The last rebuttal you could recall was after you finished your task digging a grave for the recent casualties. You were taking a quick break by yourself, setting your shovel aside. From a distance, you watched Glenn and Maggie continue to dig. You shuddered at the thought of turning with no warning of a bite.

     Your body was sore all over from all the digging, your throat on the precipice of getting sore, and you felt the world beneath you sway uninterrupted.

     The moment you made to leave the shovel against the wall, the world swayed even worse, sending you to Daryl’s grasp. “Damn it, woman, watch ya step. Ya ain’t gonna last long bein’ such a damn klutz.”

     “Get off my back,” you said. You jumped out of his arms, glaring at him with the default face you’d grown used to using around him. You angrily grabbed your shovel again, dismissing that you weren’t even able to have a minute. You let adrenaline overtake your need for a break. 

     You’d be lying if you said you hated it. You did at first, but it kind of grew on you.

     That was until a portion of the prison fell ill from the rampant spread of the flu. You decided Daryl wasn’t worth your time for the time being, dedicating your focus on doing what you can for the prison. You did find yourself looking out for him every once in a while, though. Just to make sure he was still healthy.

     Not that it mattered or anything.

     But you watched in horror as Tyreese held Daryl by his vest. You found yourself stepping forward, wanting to intrude but Daryl held his hand out to Rick, a way of saying ‘I got it.’

     It bothered you that you felt a sort of responsibility towards the guy, however much of an asshole he was towards you. To be fair, you were just as bad to him. But you weren’t gonna admit defeat just like that.

     “We’re on the same side, man,” he told the furious Tyreese. And after that, it was all a blur. You watched the fight unfold. You wanted to stop Rick, to hold him off Tyreese, tell him it was over, but you remained rooted to the floor, frozen.

     You could’ve sworn you felt Daryl’s gaze on you before he managed to get Rick to stop until he did. Daryl stumbled backwards, bumping into you. Shivers went down your spine when he touched you by the waist to ask you, “Y’alrigh’?”

     You looked back at him. That same look again.

     One.

     Two.

     Three.

     You turned away to wipe at your nose, sniffling. Unsure of what to do, you hurriedly left the scene. Once you were far enough, you wiped at your nose again. Then came a metallic scent you just could not ignore no matter how hard you tried. You thought it was just the rust of the metal bars infiltrating your senses. 

     But when you looked down at your hand upon the third wipe, you were met by the sight of blood. 

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

     After settling the dispute out, Daryl made it his mission to search for you before the council meeting. To his surprise, you were not in your cell, not outside, at least not anywhere he could find in three minutes. Deciding—hoping—you were probably busy somewhere, Daryl got back to the council’s table.

     Though he gave a fair share of ideas and listened intently, having even agreed to go on the run, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. Before leaving, Daryl pulled Glenn aside, knowing he dug graves with you just a while ago.

     He didn’t even know why he had the urge to ask the guy, because how could he possibly have any clue of your whereabouts? But he had to ask something. “[Y/N] ever said anythin’ ‘bout stuff she had to do or somethin’?”

     “I don’t think so,” said Glenn, getting ready to seclude himself as well. “She’s probably isolated herself by now, too.”

     “Isolate herself for what?” Daryl scoffed in a poor attempt to disguise his concern. Glenn watched him as if he were a madman.

     “You didn’t see her this morning?” he asked the archer, who then said he did. The longer Glenn paused, the more Daryl followed. “She’s caught it, too.”

     At that moment, Daryl understood his routinely misdirected anger—why he felt his heart practically burn a hole through his chest at the sight of that walker almost getting you, why he could no longer stomach bringing you along with him on runs and hunts, and why he let his stares linger.

     Daryl Dixon understood why he kept his distance in fear of letting whatever it was he felt fester, burying it deep within himself where even he could not find it. Until he discovered that he had a bigger fear—a phobia, even.

     The thought of losing you. And it was all the more clear to him now as he peeked through the small window to find you gripping one of the bars of a cell, keeping steady. You’d gotten weak since the last time he saw you, and he thought back to when you furiously went back to work after he’d interrupted.

     He felt a guilt like never before, feeling responsible for your condition.

You caught sight of him from afar, and your eyes locked. 

     One.

     Two.

     You gestured to the visitation room. He nodded.

     Finding yourself face to face with Daryl Dixon afterwards divided by a glass partition was something you didn’t expect you’d ever have to experience. You didn’t even think he’d care enough to take the time to do so.

     Ever since you shared that long second stare, you’ve been wondering when you’d ever have the luxury of sharing it again. But even you couldn’t hold it for that long. 

     One.

     Two.

     Three.

     “Go on, lay it on me,” you said.

     You longed to hear his typical insults, the ones you were used to hearing by routine. Instead, Daryl, took a deep breath and told you, “M’sorry. ‘Bout everythin’.”

     Safe to say that you were taken aback. You opened your mouth to tease him about it, but you had to look away as you felt the itch in your throat begging to be scratched inside. You coughed out loud, and Daryl couldn’t help but flinch at the sight of you.

     “What, no ‘yer hideous,’ ‘serves ya righ,’ or even ‘fuckin’ idiot’?” you asked jokingly, attempting to make an impression of the way he talked. 

     “S’why I didn’t want ya out there,” he said, ignoring your attempt at triggering that part of him. It went out the minute he realized you were on borrowed time. “Didn’t want ya to risk yer life for some pig meat.”

     You realized he’d gotten serious. You took your seat across from him, scrutinizing the way he looked at you. “Oh, and you’re allowed to?”

     He shrugged. “Yeah, ‘cause I ain’t an idiot like you.”

     “There it is,” you chuckled. Daryl laughed along with you, and it was the first time in a long time that you’ve laughed together. And when the moment passed came that damned stare again.

     One.

     You couldn’t hold it. “I don’t know how much time I have left so… Thanks for coming.”

     Daryl snorted. Though he laughed, he was just as scared as you are. Maybe even more scared. “Ya ain’t gonna turn. We’re gonna head out ‘n get some meds. There’s a vet college some ways away from here, and I’m gonna make sure stupidity ain’t gon’ be the reason ya die. Ya ain’t dyin’, that’s final.”

     “They got everythin’ there?” you asked.

     “I dunno, Hershel gave us a list. Said it should have ‘em.”

     “You know how things are, right? How everything usually doesn’t end up going the way you want it to. So…” You didn’t know what to say anymore. “On the off-chance it’s limited, I don’t want to hog any of it.”

     “Whaddya mean?” the archer asked, his brow furrowing in confusion. He didn’t like where this was going.

     “I mean that if there’s a shortage, I’m fine not getting it. I’ve been with these people for half an hour and… Daryl, they deserve a second chance. They want to survive.”

     “And ya don’t?”

     “I don’t know,” you confessed, sniffling. You weren’t crying, but your stuffy nose made it hard to breathe just as badly. Daryl’s heart sank. His guilt just kept growing knowing he’d been unreasonably rude to you just this morning and every morning that came before. “It gets tiring at times, but it does get fun when you spend it with the right people. But then again, who knows how long you’ll be having any of those, too?”

     Daryl opened his mouth to say something only to take it back the instant he thought of it. I’m not gonna let ya die. He stuck to his stubborn script instead. This is what Daryl was avoiding; the burden of caring. “Yer gonna take the meds whether ya like it or not.”

     You couldn’t help but smile at his stubborn drive. It was one of the many things you admired about him. “What, you’re gonna be all mean to me again if I don’t follow your instructions, Doctor Dixon?”

     “Doctor wha—?” He stifled a laugh to no avail. It was through that moment that you found out that Daryl’s laugh was music to your ears. “Nah, we’re way past that. M’gonna start a new method. Ya do somethin’ good, ya get somethin’ good instead of gettin’ somethin’ bad when ya do somethin’ bad.”

     “So reward punishment,” you suggested with a smile. 

     “Exactly.”

     “So,” you began, “if I promise to be a good patient…”

     “Uhuh,” he nodded.

     “If I take the meds…”

     “Mhm.”

     “You’re gonna give me a treat?” You resisted the urge to joke about a kiss. It felt too early, and you worried it would spook Daryl away and ruin the moment.

     “Yep.”

     “Really?” you asked, grinning wider that it almost seemed as if you never even caught the flu. “Like, one of those lollipops they give out after a vaccine just so you stop crying?”

     Daryl had no idea what you talked about, having never experienced getting one good check-up his whole life, depending his health on whatever remedies he and his brother can fashion on their own. But you seemed to be thrilled about it, and that was enough. “Yeah, like that.”

     You pretended to consider it for a while, acting like you were deep in thought. “Alright, we have a deal, you fucker.”

     He smirked. “Wipe that stupid smile off yer face.”

     And though you didn’t take it too seriously, Daryl was already hatching a game plan he could use to find one for you the moment you mentioned it. After all, he was a man of his word.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

     Daryl Dixon was one of the few people who valued solitude. This time, though, he found himself craving company long after the fall of the prison as well as when he lost Beth. 

     Thus, the universe sent the worst possible group to accompany him—the Claimers. Even he realized the change within him when he realized the difference in how he’d choose his company now and before.

     It shook him to his core that he would have chosen this group had he not met Rick’s, had he not met you. As he and the Claimers made their way through the roads in search of the perpetrators they sought to give a piece of their mind. 

     Daryl decided he’d ride with the Claimers for survival, thinking to himself he’d be fine coasting with them for just a little while until he found the right opening to leave. That was, until he discovered that they’d been hunting the same group Daryl had been looking for, but with different motives.

     “Hold up,” Daryl said carefully, so as to not rile the leader who had Rick dangerously at gunpoint. 

     “You’re stopping me on eight, Daryl,” the leader accused. You felt your heart sink from where you were, fearing how the scene would unfold. You held Carl’s hand to comfort him, but it was just as well an attempt to comfort yourself. Carl returned the sentiment. 

     Daryl stepped closer with caution. “Let’s hold up.”

     One of the guys holding a shotgun opened his mouth. “This is the guy who killed Lou, so we got nothin’ to talk about.”

     “Carl,” you whispered under your breath, not daring to move to even look at the kid. You could only hear a bit, but the silence in the car and the slightly opened windows was enough to let you hear a bit.

     “The thing about nowadays is we got nothing but time,” the leader said. He kept his eyes on the archer. “Say your piece, Daryl.”

     “These people,” Daryl started. “Yer gonna let them go. These are good people.”

     You felt your heartbeat pick up its pace upon observation that the group’s leader was unimpressed. “Now, I—I think Lou would disagree with you on that. I, of course, would have to speak for him and all because your friend here strangled him in the bathroom.”

     You whispered again, frozen in place. “Carl, I need you to get in the back. Slowly.”

     “You want blood? I get it,” Daryl said. You watched as the archer dropped his crossbow and threw his arms open. The fuck is he doing? “Take it from me, man.”

     Carl slowly brought his legs up to him, trying not to make a noise.

     Daryl kept coming closer. “Come on.”

     “This man killed our friend.” By the look on their leader’s face, you knew there was no way this would go in peace. “You say he’s good people. See now, right there is—is a lie.”

     “Carl, hurry,” you whisper again. But his attempts at doing so is halted by the events that followed.

     Daryl dropped his arms to his side, realizing the same as you. You had to clamp your hand over your mouth to stifle your frightened yell as one of them hit Daryl with the butt of a shotgun. You could only watch in fear as two of the men dragged him to the hood of the car you and Carl were in.

     As they beat him shitless, Daryl looked up to find your face staring right back at him from inside the car. For a moment, he thought he was seeing you as he approached death, but his eyes widened in terror realizing you would be involved in the scene. 

     A wave of relief and dread coursed through him; relief that you had gotten out of the prison and dread that he wouldn’t be able to protect you this time. 

     The door swung open and a man yanked Carl out before you could even reach him. “C’mere, boy.”

     “Carl!” Your door swung open as well, one of the men tackling Daryl just seconds ago hauling you off your seat as you tried to put up a fight. 

     “You leave him be!” you heard Rick yell over the commotion.

     The man pointing a gun to Michonne wasn’t afraid to make his threats and intentions clear either. “You get yours. You just wait for your turn.”

     You felt the threat of a knife to your throat and you got a whiff of a mouth that reeked of booze. You felt your perpetrator’s warm breath tickle the lines of your neck, taking you in.

     You were terrified of what he’d do to you, what they’d do to Carl. “Let him go!”

     “Not so fast, hot stuff,” the man taunted you, toying with your hair. 

     “No, get off her!” Daryl exclaimed as his assailant pinned him down as another guy ruthlessly beat him up. Daryl didn’t care.

     “Listen, it was just me. It was just me!” Rick admitted, desperately trying to bargain for his group’s freedom.

     “See, now, that’s right! That’s not some damn lie! If we can settle this, we’re reasonable men.”

     “First, we’re gonna beat Daryl to death. Then we’re gonna have the girls, then the boy. Then I’m gonna shoot you and soon we’ll be square!” 

     You heard Daryl yelp as they beat him. “Stop hurting him!”

     The leader of the gang looked at Daryl, then at you. His fucking stare made your blood run cold. “Maybe we can keep little Daryl here for a while, give him a little show. Make him watch.” His laugh sent ripples of unease throughout your body even as you were thrown to the ground, the man getting on top of you. 

     “No!” you heard Daryl exclaim as he put up a harder fight to no avail, his body already weakened. More so was yours.

     “Claimed!” the man yelled, his eyes already feasting on you.

     Everything was… You couldn’t think anymore. You felt your legs part open, and with it your head throbbed. The lack of sleep, the hunger, the thirst, everything was coming down all at once. You could only hear the wicked cackling of their leader, Rick yelling at the man to let go of his son—

     Then it was ringing in your ears at the sound of a gunshot. And yet the nightmare didn’t end. You didn’t like it. Didn’t like any of it. The sniffing and the giggling… The hands on your waist as they trailed down… 

     You thought of nothing. Perceived nothing until you felt the hands gripping your body start to loosen. Maybe you were gone already, maybe… This is the end. 

     The weight on top of you was gone altogether, and you could hear Rick’s furious grunts as he plunged a knife deep into the throat of the man who took Carl. You looked up to find Daryl tussling with the man who was just on top of you.

     “Daryl…” You were slipping in and out of consciousness, and a couple steps from where you lay you saw the two other men who’d been beating Daryl just moments before splayed unconscious on the cold concrete road.

     The ringing in your ears was louder as you watched your assailant fall to the ground, and Daryl shoving his foot down his head in vengeance.

     You lay there among the leaves, tilting your head up to the sky, only grateful Daryl was fine. He ran to you as soon as he did what he saw he had to do.

     “[Y/N],” he called, scooping you into his arms and away from the floor. You wanted to stay awake, to ask him how he was, to confess you were scared shitless and you were tired of pretending you weren’t…

     The last thing you could remember was Daryl holding you as you let slumber take you away.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

     When you awoke, you thought you were back in the prison. For a split second, you thought you just had a horrible nightmare. As your eyes began to adjust to the sun, you realized you were in the front seat of the car with the backrest inclined for your comfort.

     Michonne’s presence in the backseat told you otherwise.

     “Michonne?” You looked around to find no one else. The windows were covered with different cloths, too. You looked down on her lap to find Carl fast asleep while Michonne caressed his face. “How is he? How are you?”

     She looked up at you, an undeniable sorrow in her eyes. She was just as tired. “I’m fine. He’s shaken. What about you?”

     The events of the night before flashed before your eyes. You had to shake your head to be rid of it. You needed air. “I’ve been better, I just need air.”

     Michonne nodded, respecting your distance. “Rick’s right outside.”

     “And…?”

     “Daryl?” she asked, to which you nodded meekly. Michonne gave you a reassuring smile. “He stayed with you the entire time, he stepped out just now. He’s fine.”

     “Oh, okay.” Fixing your hair, you returned her kind gesture with a warm smile as well. “I’ll just go get some fresh air, I think I need it.”

     You swung the door open and hopped out. Once you walked forward, you jumped in shock. You didn’t expect to be in the same place from when everything happened. Just in time, Daryl popped out from the other side of the car. “You alrigh’?”

     The corpses were still splayed out flat on the concrete and beside the road. You had to look away from the grotesque scene, your heart pounding. “Yeah, I’m fine—I’m okay.”

     “You sure ‘bout that?” he asked. Daryl gave Rick a knowing look before patting him on the shoulder. Rick nodded, letting the archer know that he’ll be fine. Daryl moved towards you and tapped you by the shoulder. He took back his hand the moment you flinched, instinctively recoiling to physical touch.

     “Sorry, I’m just—I know I don’t need to feel that way around you, it’s just—”

     “I get it.” Daryl understood; he was there when it happened. But he’d make sure he’d also be there after. His hand hovered behind the small of your back. “May I?”

     Daryl waited until you nodded before he let his hand rest on your back to guide you away from the mess.

     “Let’s take a walk. Have some water,” he said, handing you a half empty bottle. You took big gulps religiously, craving its feel in your throat. “Thank you.”

     You hand the bottle back to him only to realize that you had drunk all of its contents. “Oh, shit. Sorry.”

     “Nothin’ ya gotta apologize for.”

     You only nodded in response, still troubled by everything. 

     Daryl halted, gently touching you by your wrist. You’d never felt that sort of tender touch before, and it was easy to miss it once it ended. “Hey, I—uh, I almost forgot.”

     “Hm?”

     “Y’know, the terms of our agreement.” You watched as Daryl fumbled with himself, and a laugh escaped you. He seemed to be flustered with what he was about to do, but you could tell he’d been anticipating doing it by the pace he was searching. He checked his shirt pockets. When he dug into his jeans’ front pocket, he pulled out something small, then extending his hand to you. “M’sorry I only got two, I wasn’t sure what flavor ya wanted and I accidentally got them in the same flavor and there were walkers and I know it ain’t an excuse but—”

     You took it. You kept eyeing the two lollipops in your hand. It was both strawberry-flavored, and it was one of those jumbo ones that were slightly bigger than the regular ones. “Daryl, that was a joke. You didn’t have to” — you snorted, a smile breaking on your face — “actually get me one.”

     “Nah, I’m a man of my word.” Daryl returned your smile. “I say m’gonna get ya somethin’, then m’gonna get ya somethin’. Simple.”

     “Well, then,” you said, handing him the other one. “You get the other one.”

     “Nah, it’s yours.”

     “No. Get it.”

     “Nah,” he said.

     If Daryl was stubborn, you were nothing compared to him. You stuffed the other one in his pocket. “There. And don’t even try to argue with me on it, I wanna have it with you.”

     “Alright, alright.”

     Heat rushed to your cheeks. He really did bother. You continued walking, Daryl followed.

     “Ya don’t have to open it now, we need to get ya some more water first so yer throat doesn’t get sore again.”

     “Thought this was my treat?” you teased. “For being a good patient?”

     “Yeah, well, doctor says you should lay off it for a bit ‘til ya get some more to drink.”

     You snorted. “Oh, yeah? What doctor.”

     Daryl pointed to himself. “This doctor. Doctor Dixon.”

     “You like that a lot, huh?”

     “Actually, I hated it but… S’kinda growin’ on me.”

     After you shared a laugh. There was that goddamn lingering stare.

     One.

     Two.

     Three.

     Daryl turned around, afraid the heat in his cheeks were possibly giving away how he felt with a faint blush. “We should—Whaddya say we head back?”

     “Sure, wouldn’t wanna have you going down on one knee to propose,” you joked.

     “Shuddup,” he said, lightly punching your shoulder. 

     On the whole way back, you talked together, just like you always did whenever the two of you were out hunting. Speaking with Daryl made everything else matter a little less that you don’t even realize how far you’ve gone until it comes into your mind.

     While walking the tracks with Rick, Carl, and Michonne, the two of you walked slightly behind. 

     “I’m just saying, if we get to this place, it’s not gonna—!” You shrieked as your feet caught on one of the sleepers of the tracks. To your relief, Daryl caught you with his hand holding yours and his other hand assisting your waist.

     The three turned around to check on you both. Rick called out, “You alright back there?”

     “Yeah! We’re fine!” he said back. You were worried Daryl would drop your hand. He didn’t.

     When no eyes lingered on either of you anymore, the stare you’d been yearning for returned, leaving you to wonder what would break it this time before it could reach five.

     One.

     Two.

     Three.

     Four.

     Five.

     To your surprise and your relief, Daryl smiled at you. And oh, did it feel melting. It was hard not to return his smile when it was so damn contagious. You were sure your heart was doing gymnastics at this point, feeling it beat so hard against your chest.

     “What’re you looking at me like that for?” you asked the archer.

     “Yer still fuckin’ clumsy as fuck,” he remarked with a teasing smirk.

     He’d been dying to hear you laugh again, so he’s relieved that you do. “Welcome back. Thought you said you had your whole new justice system in store?”

     “Well, doctors still gotta scold their patients, especially when the patient in question is an idiot.”

     You rolled your eyes. “You have any rule in your book about doctors holding their patients’ hands? Y’know, like, ‘Don’t do that’?”

     Daryl looked down on your intertwined hands, pretending to scrutinize it with careful thought. “I dunno, I think if the patient’s fine with it, then the doctor’s fine with it, too.”

     You did the same only to look back up at him with a grin. “Patient says it’s fine. Is the doctor fine with it?”

     “Doctor Dixon says it’s recommended to keep his patient healthy.” 

     “Patient has a request, though,” you tell him as you use your other hand to pull out your lollipop from your pocket. “She wants Doctor Dixon to share a treat together.”

     “Doctor Dixon says, ‘What the hell’.” He does the same, pulling his lollipop out. You had to let go of each other’s hands for a bit to take off the wrapper before throwing it away. Daryl was the first to take your hand, eager to hold it again. You let him.

     Throughout the entire journey to Terminus, all your fears and worries were at bay, all because Daryl never let go of your hand. The two of you talked about the sweetness of what you were having, how it was a great change from what you were used to eating. And it was right then and there that he knew he wanted to be holding your hand whenever, wherever, and however long he could.

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[mochinomnoms]

Hello I saw your event and got interested! I was wondering if you could do #24 with Idia (romantic, fluff, and suggestive if possible) with fem!reader?

idia shroud x f!reader [tags] – romantic, fluff, suggestive [wc} – 3, 241 prompt 24: “I'm so happy that you confessed first.” “Why?” “If I had to dig out another hydrangea petal from my teeth, I was gonna lose it.” notes - the only way to write idia is kind pathetic like a wet cat. i love pathetic men a floral inconvenience

According to legend, a Japanese emperor gave blue hydrangeas to the girl he loved, to apologize for neglecting her and to show how much he really cared for her. Their petal shape resembles a beating heart. 

Idia thinks that he was cursed in a past life for doing something awful. Maybe he kidnapped someone’s kid and tried to kill them. Maybe he tried to overthrow the gods and take over himself, but failed miserably. Or maybe, worst of all: broke someone’s limited-edition, vintage Tokyo Mew Mew Ichigo figurine. 

He sure as the underworld that he did something, why else would he be puking up hanahaki flowers like some cringey Canon x Reader fanfic? 

“Big Bro! You really should go to the school infirmary, the petals and stems can cause irritation and damage to the trachea and nasopharynx if not treated properly!”

Ortho was currently hovering over him, fretting like a mother hen over her chick. How ironic, Idia thought as he picked at the petals still in his teeth, it was for the little brother to be caring for the elder. 

“Why do that when I can just have the school delivery bots bring me medicine. Then I won’t have to interact with anyone, I’d literally DIE if anyone saw me like this…”

Especially if the Prefect saw him. The image of her sweet face, and beaming smile…like a scene from a shoujo manga, flooded his mind. He could practically hear her voice, full of concern, asking, “Are you okay, Idia?”

Idia fell into a sneezing fit, petals flying from his mouth and nose as his sneezes continued, one after the other, until he was also thrown into a hoarse, wet-sounding cough. 

“Big Bro! That’s it, you’re going to the nurse!” Ortho, despite being quite small, grabbed Idia by the back of his striped pajama shirt, much like one grabs a wet cat by the scruff of its neck. 

“UUuuuuuuuuuughghuguguguhidonwannaaaaaaaaAAAAAHHHh!” Idia cried out in a whiney, high-pitched tone. 

His brother, perhaps taking pity on his brother, took the shortcut to the infirmary, cutting directly pass the buildings and fields as Idia’s arms and legs loosely flew like cooked spaghetti noodles. Flying through the window that Nurse Goethel often kept open for fresh air, Ortho plopped Idia into a spare bed, who collapsed like a ragdoll into the thin mattress. 

“I’ll go check you in with the Nurse, I’ll be right back, please make yourself comfortable Idia!”

Idia gave a muffled grumble as a response, shoving his face further into the hard surface of the bed with a sense of dread. He could hear Ortho speak with Goethel at her desk. 

Well, he thought, at least she won’t see me looking all gross and lovesick like some normie—

“Idia, oh my god, are you sick?” 

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA—”

A shrill, ear-splitting shriek left his mouth as the flames of his hair blew up into a blazing hot pink. Idia bolted him, a sharp pain hitting the top of his head as he heard you yelp. As he rubbed the pained spot, Idia noticed that you too were rubbing your chin. Oh Sevens, he hit your chin with his big, stupid head. 

“Ooowwwww, damn Idia, you hit hard…” you hissed, though you gave him a sweet smile in reassurance. 

“It’s fine, I shouldn’t have scared you…though why are you covered in flowers?”

Idia froze, debating on whether or not he should open his mouth and potentially say something damning, or just stay quiet and hope you’d just get weirded out and leave. 

“Because he’s an idiot who didn’t come to immediately see me at the first petal cough!” 

The nurse came up to Idia with a disapproving glare, handing you a clipboard and pen before slipping on a clean pair of gloves. 

“Prefect, please check the boxes for every symptom I find. I believe I know what it is, but we need to check all our bases.” 

Idia peeked at you from the corner of his eye as you smiled at him, waving your fingers as the nurse whispered a spell to turn her magic pen into a makeshift flashlight. 

“Now, open up and say ‘ah’ so I can see what those flowers are doing to you.” 

Following her instructions, Idia tried his best to be a cooperative and willing patient, if just to get out of here faster. Unfortunately, your presence only seemed to make it harder to do so, as hydrangea flowers bloomed from the pores of his skin, focusing particularly around his hands and neck. 

The nurse, he’s sure, could also see the magic sparkles forming as a new bouquet formed through his throat and shot up his mouth. She tsked, leaning back to allow Idia to hack out the now decent sized hydrangea bouquet. They were a vibrant blue, much like his hair. 

“Ah, go, go on and let it out.” The nurse waved a hand at Ortho. “Dear, please fetch your brother a cup of the tea I have brewing at my desk. Prefect? Please note that the patient has no evidence of root growth in his throat.”

“Root growth!? Is my brother going to be okay?” Ortho worriedly rushed over, the tea spilling over the rim of the foam cup. “Is it a curse or disease? Is my brother growing a plant in his lungs!?”

“Ortho, you scanned me earlier this week, remember?” Idia hoarsely replied, taking the tea to gingerly sip at it. “Nothing in ‘em, or my stomach ‘cept ramen noods.”

“A WEEK?!” The three of you flinched at the shrill gasp of Goethel, who was glaring daggers at Idia. “Mr. Shroud, you’ve been sick with an unknown flora disease and you didn’t even bother to let the staff know? What if you were contagious!!”

Idia shrank into himself as he whispered, “It’s not like I leave my room…” 

“Bateria or the pollen could’ve gotten into the air vents and infected the rest of your dorm, ugh.” The nurse sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose before addressing you. “Miss Y/N, if you mark down the lack of root growth, fever, and magical origin of the flowers, what do you get?”

He watched as you flipped through the clipboard, smile slightly faltering as you read one of the papers. You cleared your face briefly, before smiling politely back at the nurse and Idia.

“Based on everything, it seems that Idia most likely has the flower sickness, also known as the love sickness, petal fever, or, most commonly, hanahaki.”

Idia cringed at the cold, monotone sound of your voice. Now he’d done it. You knew, somehow you knew that he had the biggest, fattest, most twitterpated-full crush on you. No, crush was understated. He had dreams of you, the cringiest, domestic fantasy-based shit where he’d imagine you, waking up in bed with him back at the Island of Woe. You had given him a sleepy smile as you curled into side, naked. With a smile and a kiss to his lips, dream you turned over to hover over him, trailing small kisses and love bites down his body, further and further as you whispered to him, over and over, “I love you, Idia—”

A queasy, dizzying feeling fell over Idia as a particularly painful croup caused him to double over and vomit last night's dinner alongside blue, heart-shaped petals. 

“Idia!”

“Big Brother!”

“Shroud—Prefect, hold his hair back! Ortho, grab the trashcan, I’ll go get some cleaning supplies and new sheets.”

Nurse Goethel barked orders to the other two, who quickly jumped into action. Idia could feel a shiver as he felt your hands softly grasp his flaming hair, fingers grazing his cheek as you tucked his bangs behind his ears. He could barely make out your coos, no doubt comforting him. You must be disgusted seeing him like this, having to care for a sopping wet cat of a man. Ortho was holding the trash can, right on time for Idia to hurl some more flowers and stomach acid. 

“Oh, Idia…you poor thing.” You whispered into his ear, unintentionally causing his body to warm up and a chill go down his spine to settle in his abdomen. He was very aware that if he turned his head to look at you, he’d get a faceful of your chest like some harem isekai protag, the thought making him warm further and his tips pink again. 

“I didn’t realize you were feeling this bad, Idia…” Ortho murmured, guilt in his voice. “I should’ve brought you sooner…”

“N-no…” Idia gravelly replied, wiping his mouth clean. “It’s not your fault Ortho, don’t beat yourself over it.”

Ortho still looked guilty, but nodded in affirmation, glancing at briefly at the Prefect. His gaze flitted between the two, and Idia could briefly see Ortho’s eyes go blank, as they did when searching through his knowledge database.

“Miss Prefect!” Ortho chirped, voice now perky much to Idia’s concern. “May I ask for a spare infirmary shirt for my brother? He must be very uncomfortable in his soiled one!”

Idia was now firmly and acutely aware of your hands still on him, thumb rubbing soothingly into his temple. 

“Oh, of course Ortho.” You moved away, hands hovering for just a moment, as you replied, “They’re in the storage, I’ll be right back!”

Idia watched as you walked away into the infirmary storage. Ortho did as well, waiting until you were out of earshot to excitedly whisper, “Idia! I know it’ll be an easy fix!”

“Huh?” Idia rose an eyebrow at his brother, confusion setting in.

“It’s a love sickness, and you love the Prefect—Idia stop looking at me like that—so if you confess to them, the flowers will go away!”

Idia was still giving Ortho a horrified look, as he continued. 

“Based on the timing of your reactions in correlation with close proximity within the Prefect, along with your increased heart rate at their touch, speech, and glances, and the fact that the Prefect stated on December 15th at 11:18:53 pm that she likes hydrangeas, she is the cause of the sickness. Right?”

“Ortho!’ Idia hissed, grabbing at his brother to shut him up despite Ortho not technically having a mouth. 

“Quiet down, this isn’t some otome game where I can cheat and look online for the right responses. Did you see how she reacted earlier when she found out it was hanahaki, how disappointed she looked? There’s no way Y/N—I mean the Prefect, didn’t connect the dots. 

“But, Big Brother!” Ortho whined, “Based on her heart rate and increased body temperature—”

“No is no, Ortho! It’s not going to be such an easy fix, I’ll just get rejected!”

“Technically speaking—” Idia and Ortho both jumped at the nurse’s voice, who was coming back from storage with clean linens. The Prefect followed with a new shirt.

“—you don’t need your beloved to accept your feelings, just confess them. Though it’s quite rare that it’s not reciprocated.”

The nurse motioned for Idia to get up as the Prefect handed him the shirt. She began taking the sheets off as the nurse addressed the two brothers. 

“Mr. Shroud, if you are insisting on keeping this sickness intact for fear of rejection, then I will have to ask Professor Crewel for some more potent ingredients for your prescription. Little Shroud?”

“Oh, yes Nurse Goethel?” 

“I could use your assistance, please come with me, Miss Y/N will tend to your brother,” She had a smug tone and smirk as she said this, motioning for Ortho to follow. “Mr. Shroud, please have no worry, she makes an excellent student nurse!” 

Idia let out a defeated, low, whiney groan as he moped over behind one of the privacy screens. You remained quiet as you collected the dirty sheets. He could hear Goethel’s footsteps and Ortho’s fans fade away as they left further and further down the hall. Idia yanked his shirt off, slipping the clean one over his head, noting it was a tad bit too small. He grumbled in annoyance as he pulled the shirt down to cover his stomach. 

“Idia?”

“Eeep!” Idia yelped, your voice coming from right behind the screen. “Y-yes?”

“Are you done changing? I can take your shirt to the hamper.”

He hummed in response, peeking his hand from behind the screen with the shirt in hand. As you took the shirt and walked away, Idia slowly moved to look at you. Once he was sure your eyes were firmly ahead (and briefly taking a look at your ass), he launched himself back into bed, the smell of clean linen filling his nose. 

Idia sighed, a faux exhaustion settling into his bones as he sunk into the bed. He tensed as he felt you sit on the edge to this right. 

“Idia?” you hummed as he closed his eyes to focus on the darkness behind them, instead of you worried expression. 

He hummed in response. 

“Nurse Goethel said that the remedy is actually quick and easy, right?”

He hummed again.  

“You’ll just keep coughing hydrangeas until you do something, right?”

“...Yea.” Idia replied in a monotone voice. 

You sighed, a bit in frustration he thinks. “So?”

“...So?”

“Why don’t you?” You stretched out the last vowel with a questioning sound.

“Why don’t I?” Idia mimicked you. 

"Why don't you just confess?"

“Wha?” He yelped, looking at you like you’d grown heads like a hydra. “W-what do y-you mean, confess!? Are you crazy?”

You rolled your eyes and sighed, “It would help, wouldn’t it? And Nurse Goethel said it’s rare for it to not be reciprocated, so what do you have to lose?”

“First of all, what’s left of my dignity. Second, I’m not some ML in a romance manhwa. And, third!” Idia straightened up to look you in the eyes, a burst of confidence filling his veins in pure frustration and annoyance. “There’s no way that anyone would be interested in some loser like me, so what’s the point—”

“But I like you!”

Silence fell between you two as the realization of your words settled into both your minds. You, with a growing blush and look of embarrassment, and Idia gaping at you like a fish out of water.”

“Huh.”

“I said,” You murmured, twiddling with the ends of your hair. “That I like you. A lot. I think you’re really fun to be around, you’re even though you're shy and kinda geeky, you’re really passionate about the stuff you like. Idia.”

Your hand reached for his, hesitantly like you were afraid you’d burn him. As you laced your fingers together, Idia felt a lump form in his throat. He kept silent though, watching as you smiled shyly. 

“You’re sweet to your brother, and I notice, to me sometimes too. Did you think I wouldn’t notice you coming out to class more often so we could hang? I missed you this week…it was really lonely without you, even with all my friends.”

Still holding his hand, you leaned in closer to his face, looking at him earnestly. Was this real? Did he unlock a secret route with you without noticing? Why did you keep looking at his lips? OMG WAS THIS REAL—

“Idia,” You snapped him out of his thoughts as the distance between you two kept closing. “If the person you like doesn’t return your feelings, then they didn’t deserve you in the first place. I’ll be there to support you, even if you don’t like me the same way, I’ll always care for you as your friend—”

“But it is you.” Idia blurted out. Whether it was due to a mysterious burst of energy or just a slip of the tongue, he didn’t know. 

“W-what! Idia, you don’t have to try and make me feel—” you tried to stutter an excuse, cheeks pink like the fiery tips of his hair. 

“It’s you! I got this cause of you, cause I knew—I thought,” Idia started to ramble, getting up to grab you by the shoulders and shake. “I thought that you couldn’t like some weirdo like me. Are you telling me I could’ve snatched an SSR level kiss scene with you at any time??!!”

It was your turn to be shocked, a bewildered look in your eyes and Idia rapidly spoke, taking little breaths between sentences.

“Do you know what you do to me?? The thoughts, the dreams I have about you? I see you and get all hot and bothered and you’re telling me that I didn’t have to be some maidenless normie this entire time? I could’ve been lockin’ lips and getting my dick we—”

A sharp shriek leaving Idia’s mouth was muffled as you shoved your lips into his, effectively shutting up his rant. He whimpered as you swiped your tongue along his lips, deepening the kiss as you wrapped your arms around his neck. Idia, perhaps in the throes of passion, or not wanting to miss out on this once in a lifetime pull, reciprocated, albeit with a nervous hesitation. 

You seemed to approve, pressing your chest against his as your mouth moved against his, tongues dancing and moans being shared between half taken breaths. His hands hovered over you until you let go of his neck to guide his hands and place them over your hips. An arousing moan left your lips as your hands gently pushed his chest. 

Idia’s world slightly shifted as he fell back first into the bed, your hair creating a curtain as you separated from him. A line of shiny spit followed you, breaking as he gasped for breath while you leaned back down to press kisses against his neck, flowering the disappearing hydrangeas. 

He yelped as your teeth scraped a particularly sensitive spot, opening his mouth to blurt out, “I'm so happy that you confessed first.” 

You let out a breathless giggle, turning your head and resting your chin on his neck to look up at him with, he swears on the Star Rouge sequel, hearts in your eyes. “Why?” 

“If I had to dig out another hydrangea petal from my teeth, I was gonna lose it.” Idia chuckled, “I’m sorry you have to deal with such a coward like me.”

“Idia.” You firmly responded, “Don’t. I like you as you are. We’re both young, we have time to grow. I’ll grow with you, if you’ll have me?

Looking down at you, practically on top of him, Idia opened his mouth to tease your softness, and suddenly froze. The mortifying, though wonderful he had to admit, scene was dawning on him as his entire body heated up and turned red. 

“Uuuuuwwwwwahaaahahahahaha—you’reontopofmethere’sagirlontopofmeisthisanewlevelinyourouteIdidn’tprepareforthis—mmmfph!”

You effectively shut him up with another kiss to his lips, smiling as Idia was shocked into silence with a dopy, wobbly smile forming on his lips.

“Relax, Idia, I’ll take the lead on all the romance stuff until you get the hang of it. For now you can be my player two!”

Idia snorted, smirking at you as he teased, “That’s such a cringey thing to say~”

“You say things like that all the time!” 

The two of you shared a soft laugh, unaware of the audience of two at the door watching. Ortho recorded the memory for the wedding he was already planning in his head, while the nurse muttered to herself about wasting time gathering ingredients for a prescription potion she no longer needed. Despite this, she smiled, happy that her little words of encouragement to the Prefect earlier worked. 

[cheynovak]

Stormy Nights 

Characters: Beau Arlen x F/Reader Y/N     

I got this awesome request from: @csicsi16b and it's also my first Beau fic!

Summary:  Beau and Y/N have been dating some time now, a thunderstorm is moving over Montana, something Y/N isn’t quite fond of. Beau gets home to comfort her.  

Warnings: 18+, Spicy, multiple orgasms, fingering, oral sex female receiving,  unprotected sex  and Fluff 🥰

English is not my first language 

*This story is my own original story, please do not copy my work, reblog/comments/likes are appreciated* 

The first rumble of thunder echoed across the sky as Beau Arlen glanced out of his office window. The dark clouds rolled in faster than he’d expected, casting a shadow over the usually sunny landscape. A sense of urgency tightened in his chest—he knew how much Y/N hated thunderstorms. She never said much about it, but he could see the way she’d tense up, her fingers twitching just slightly whenever the skies darkened. 

With a muttered curse, Beau grabbed his keys and hurried out of the office, not even bothering to stop for his jacket. The rain started just as he reached his truck, heavy droplets splattering against the windshield as he sped toward home. The wipers struggled to keep up with the downpour, but Beau barely noticed, his mind solely focused on getting back to Y/N. 

He pulled into the driveway he cut the engine and bolted for the front door. By the time he reached to door, he was soaked to the bone, the rain having found every gap in his clothing. The thunder growing louder and more frequent. Fumbling with the keys for a second, he finally managed to unlock the door and stepped inside, shaking off the worst of the rain. 

The warm, comforting scent of something delicious greeted him, and he followed it into the kitchen. There she was, Y/N, moving gracefully around the space, trying to forget the storm raging outside, as long as there were no lightning and thunder, she’d be fine.  

She was wearing those tiny pyjama shorts he loved so much, paired with a simple tank top that clung to her in all the right places. Beau couldn’t help but let his eyes linger as she bent over to place a dish in the oven, the sight almost enough to make him forget about the storm outside until the thunder spooked her and she mumbled to herself ‘God damn weather.”  

He stood there for a moment, just watching her, a fond smile tugging at the corners of his lips. The sight of her like this, making him food so that when he got home he's been taken care of. He never askes her to do it, but he still liked it.

Besides that, she's beautiful, both her personality and looks, it made something warm and protective stir deep within him. Without thinking, he moved closer, his boots making a soft noise on the tiled floor, but it was drowned out by the sound of the rain pounding against the windows. 

Y/N didn’t hear him approach, too focused on adjusting the temperature of the oven. Beau’s hand slipped around her waist, pulling her gently but firmly against him. She let out a startled gasp, her body tensing before she realized who it was. 

“Beau!” she exclaimed, turning her head to look up at him, a mix of surprise and relief in her eyes. “You scared me! I didn’t expect you home so soon.” 

He chuckled softly, his voice a deep rumble that matched the thunder outside. “Sorry, darlin’. I didn’t mean to sneak up on you like that. Just wanted to make sure you were okay.” His arms stayed wrapped around her, and she relaxed into his embrace, the cold of his drenched clothes seeping into hers. 

“I’m okay,” she said softly, leaning back against him. He knew she tried to pretend not to be afraid when he was around. Beau pressed a kiss to the top of her head, his damp hair brushing against her cheek. “Good. But I’m here now, just in case you need a cuddle buddy.”  

Beau felt the warmth of Y/N’s hands on his chest, her fingers slightly pressing into his damp shirt as she looked up at him with concern. “You’re drenched, Beau. Why don’t you take a shower? But on something dry. Dinner will be ready soon.” 

A soft smile played on his lips as he leaned down to kiss her. Once, twice, three times, each kiss lingering just a little longer than the last. He could feel her relax more with every kiss, her worry about the storm melting away in the warmth of their shared moment. “Alright, darlin’,” he murmured against her lips, giving her one last peck before pulling away and heading to the bathroom. 

The hot water felt like heaven against his chilled skin, washing away the cold rain and tension from the day. As he stepped out of the shower, drying off with a towel, the house suddenly went dark. The steady hum of electricity silenced, replaced by the sound of heavy rain against the roof and the distant rumble of thunder. 

“Y/N?” he called out, his voice echoing through the now eerily quiet house. Wrapping the towel around his waist, Beau grabbed the flashlight he always kept handy in the bathroom and made his way downstairs, the beam of light cutting through the darkness. 

As he reached the living room, he found Y/N standing near the kitchen, the dim glow from his flashlight reflecting in her eyes. “The power’s out,” he said, stating the obvious as he approached her. “I’ll go check the breaker box outside.” 

Y/N’s eyes widened slightly, her hand reaching out to grab his arm. “Beau, wait. Can’t it… can’t it wait until the storm passes?” 

He paused, seeing the apprehension in her gaze. She never liked thunderstorms, but this one was hitting harder than usual. A small smile tugged at his lips as he reassured her, “It’s just the breaker, sweetheart. I’ll be quick—nothing’s gonna happen, I promise.” 

But as he turned toward the door, Y/N moved to block his path. Her movements were quick, almost instinctual, driven by the need to keep him close. Before Beau could say anything, a particularly loud clap of thunder shook the house, making Y/N jump and instinctively step closer to him, her hands gripping his arms tightly. The fear in her eyes was palpable, and Beau felt his heart tighten in his chest. 

“Beau, please,” she whispered, her voice trembling slightly as she closed the door behind him. “That can wait.” 

He looked down at her, seeing the vulnerability in her expression. She was usually so strong, so independent, but in this moment, she needed him. And there was no way he was going to leave her alone and scared in the dark. 

“But you made food,” he protested softly, his hand coming up to gently brush a strand of hair from her face. 

“That can wait too,” she replied with a small, determined smile. “I’m sure we have marshmallows somewhere. Grab the candles, and we’ll make the best of it.” 

Beau chuckled, the sound low and comforting. “You’re somethin’ else, you know that?” he said, his voice filled with affection. He leaned down to kiss her forehead, then her nose, and finally her lips, letting the kiss linger a moment longer before pulling back. 

“You keep me on my toes,” he continued, moving toward the kitchen to find the candles. The thought of her smile in the flickering light made him move a little quicker, eager to turn this stormy night into something special. 

A few minutes later, the living room was bathed in the soft glow of candlelight. The marshmallows they found were a little old, but neither of them cared. Beau sat on the couch.  

Beau couldn’t help but smile as he watched Y/N set up a makeshift spread on the coffee table. Despite the power outage and the storm raging outside, she had put together a cozy little setup—a cheese board with an assortment of crackers, a few pieces of fruit, and the marshmallows they’d found tucked away in the pantry. It was simple, but it was perfect, just like her. 

The warm, comforting scent of her favorite vanilla lotion mingled with the aroma of the food, wrapping around him like a protective blanket. Y/N always had a way of making even the most chaotic situations feel calm and safe. As she nestled beside him on the couch, her body close to his, Beau felt a wave of contentment wash over him. 

“So,” Y/N began softly, her voice barely louder than the patter of rain against the windows. “How was your day?” as she curled up beside him, her head resting on his shoulder as they watched the flames dance in the small fireplace. 

Beau sighed, his hand naturally moving to rest on her shoulder, tracing soothing circles with his thumb. The tension from the long day seemed to melt away as he touched her, and he let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. “It was busy,” he replied, his voice carrying the weight of the day’s events. “Nothing too exciting, just a lot of paperwork and a couple of routine calls. I couldn’t stop thinking about getting home to you, though. That kept me going.” 

Y/N smiled, leaning into his touch as his hand moved gently across her back, comforting her even as she tried to comfort him. She reached for a piece of cheese, nibbling on it thoughtfully before looking up at him with a question that had been on her mind since he walked in. “Where’s Emily? Is she alright?” 

Beau’s expression softened at the mention of his daughter. Y/N had always been so good with Emily, treating her with the same love and care she showed him. “She’s good,” he assured her. “She’s staying with a friend tonight. The storm wasn’t supposed to hit until later, so I thought it’d be a good chance for her to have a little sleepover. They were planning to watch some movies and do each other’s hair.” 

Y/N nodded, relieved. “That sounds nice. I’m glad she’s having fun.” 

Beau’s hand continued to stroke Y/N’s back, his touch growing more deliberate as he let his fingers drift lower, tracing the curve of her spine. His voice dropped to a husky murmur, full of suggestion. “You know, that leaves the two of us alone for the night.” 

Y/N looked up at him, catching the glint in his green eyes. The hint of a smile tugged at her lips as she teased, “Hm… and what does that mean?” 

Instead of answering right away, Beau’s strong arms moved to lift her effortlessly onto his lap, her legs straddling him as she settled in close. His hands slipped under the hem of her shorts, caressing the soft skin of her thighs and hips.  

His touch both tender and possessive. He leaned in, his breath warm against her ear as he whispered, “It means you always take such good care of me, sweetheart… how ’bout I take care of you tonight?” 

A shiver of anticipation ran through Y/N at his words, her hands instinctively resting on his broad shoulders for balance. She could feel the heat of his body through the sweatpants he'd put on before 'diner' and the way his hands roamed her legs sent a delicious warmth spreading through her. 

She met his gaze, her heart pounding a little faster as she saw the intensity in his eyes, the deep affection mingling with something more primal. “What do you have in mind?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper, though she already knew the answer. 

Beau’s lips curved into a slow, confident smile as he leaned in to press a lingering kiss to the side of her neck, his hands sliding up to rest on her hips. “I think you know,” he murmured against her skin, his voice sending a thrill through her. “I want to make you feel as good as you make me feel every day, darlin’. Tonight, it’s all about you.” 

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat, her body responding to his words and the way his hands seemed to ignite every nerve he touched. She let herself sink into the moment, her fingers threading through his damp hair as she pulled him closer, their lips meeting in a kiss that was slow and deep, filled with all the unspoken promises of the night ahead. 

Beau’s hands roamed over her body, savoring every curve, every soft sigh that escaped her lips. He took his time, wanting to prolong the anticipation, to show her just how much he appreciated and adored her. The storm outside had all but faded into the background, leaving nothing but the sound of their breathing and the steady beat of their hearts. 

She smiled, a little breathless, and whispered, “I think I like the sound of that.” 

Beau grinned, his hands sliding back down to her thighs, holding her securely on his lap as he leaned in for another kiss. “Good,” he murmured against her lips. “Because I plan on spoiling you all night, sweetheart.” 

Beau’s hands moved with a slow, deliberate tenderness as he slid Y/N’s top up over her head, letting the soft fabric fall to the floor. He paused for a moment, taking in the sight of her, her bare skin glowing softly in the candlelight, her breasts exposed to his gaze. His breath hitched, desire flaring as he admired her, but it was more than that—it was the deep love and affection he felt for her, the way she trusted him completely, that made this moment all the more intimate. 

He leaned in, pressing a series of soft kisses along her neck, his lips trailing a warm path down to her collarbone. Y/N sighed, her hands tightening slightly on his shoulders as he continued downward, his mouth hovering just above her breast. He could feel her heartbeat quicken against his lips, the anticipation making her tremble slightly in his arms. 

When his mouth finally found her nipple, he was gentle, letting his lips close around it as his tongue flicked out to tease. Y/N gasped softly, the sensation sending a jolt of pleasure through her body. Beau responded to her reaction, his tongue swirling around the sensitive peak, alternating between gentle licks and firmer strokes. 

His other hand wasn’t idle, moving to her other breast, kneading the soft flesh with a mixture of firmness and care. His fingers grazed her nipple, tugging and rolling it gently between his thumb and forefinger, matching the rhythm of his tongue. 

Y/N’s breath came in short, shallow bursts, her body arching slightly into his touch. Every movement of his mouth, every caress of his hand was driving her wild, the pleasure building in a slow, deliberate wave that threatened to overwhelm her. She could feel the heat pooling low in her belly, spreading out through her limbs, making her feel weightless and grounded all at once. 

Beau could sense her growing need, her body’s responses urging him on. He pulled back for a moment, just enough to look up at her, his green eyes darkened with desire. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, his voice rough with emotion. 

Y/N’s heart swelled at his words, her hands threading through his hair as she pulled him back down, needing to feel his mouth on her again. Beau obliged, his lips closing around her nipple once more, sucking gently before releasing it with a soft, wet sound. His hand continued to knead and caress, his thumb brushing over her other nipple in slow, teasing circles that had her squirming on his lap. 

Beau’s name escaped Y/N’s lips in a breathy moan, her body trembling in his embrace as he continued his slow, teasing ministrations. The way she responded to him, the way her body arched and squirmed on his lap, sent a surge of desire coursing through him. He could feel her hips grinding against him, the friction sending sparks of heat through his already hardening length. 

She was driving him wild, but he loved every second of it—the trust she placed in him, the way she let herself go completely in his arms. His hand slid down to cup her ass, his fingers digging into the soft flesh as he lifted her effortlessly off the couch. Y/N wrapped her legs around his waist instinctively, holding on as he carried her across the room, their bodies pressed intimately close. 

Beau moved with purpose, his green eyes dark with a mix of lust and affection as he placed her gently on the kitchen counter. The cool surface against her skin was a stark contrast to the heat between them, but it only heightened the intensity of the moment. 

As he stood between her thighs, his hands roamed over her body, his fingers hooking into the waistband of her shorts. With a slow, deliberate tug, he began to slide them down, his eyes never leaving hers. When he noticed she wasn’t wearing any panties, a low, appreciative hum escaped his throat, a wicked smile tugging at his lips. “No panties?” he murmured, his voice rough with desire as his thumb brushed teasingly against her bare skin. 

Y/N’s breath hitched, her eyes locking onto his as she bit her lower lip. The way he looked at her, the way his voice seemed to vibrate with need, sent a shiver down her spine. “Didn’t think I’d need them,” she whispered, a playful smile curving her lips as she watched his reaction. 

Beau’s eyes darkened further, his desire for her growing even stronger. “You really do know how to drive a man crazy, don’t you?” he growled softly, his fingers continuing their exploration, sliding between her folds to find her already slick with arousal. 

Y/N gasped, her head falling back as he touched her, her body responding instantly to his skilled fingers. “Beau…” she breathed, her voice trembling with need. He leaned in close, his lips brushing against the sensitive skin of her neck as his fingers began to move in slow, deliberate strokes. 

With a steady, gentle pressure, he began to circle her clit, his thumb occasionally brushing over it as his fingers explored further, dipping into her wet heat. Y/N’s hips bucked involuntarily, her body aching for more, but Beau was in no rush. He wanted to savour every second, to watch the way her body responded to his touch, to hear the way she moaned his name. 

When he finally slipped a finger inside her, her body arched off the counter, a sharp cry escaping her lips as she felt herself tighten around him. He added a second finger, curling them just right to hit that perfect spot inside her, his thumb never losing its rhythm against her clit. 

Her hands gripped the edge of the counter, knuckles white as she struggled to hold on, every nerve in her body alive with sensation. Beau’s lips continued to graze her skin, his breath hot against her neck as he whispered sweet, dirty words that only made her need for him grow. 

Y/N was lost in the overwhelming pleasure, her body trembling as he worked her closer and closer to release. The only thing grounding her was the feel of Beau—his hands, his mouth, his voice—everything about him wrapping her in a cocoon of love and desire. 

And when she finally shattered in his arms, her orgasm crashing over her like a wave. Beau grinned playfully, his green eyes glinting with a mix of mischief and desire as he licked his fingers, savoring the taste of her. “Best appetizer I’ve ever had,” he teased, his voice low and rough with satisfaction. The playful remark made Y/N’s cheeks flush with a mix of embarrassment and excitement, her heart pounding in her chest as she watched him with wide, eager eyes. 

As Beau shifted, lowering himself to his knees in front of her, Y/N’s gaze drifted down and she couldn’t help but notice that his pants had slipped off, pooling around his knees on the floor. The sight of him, completely bare and kneeling between her legs, sent a fresh wave of heat coursing through her. 

Her breath hitched, anticipation building as he leaned in closer, his strong hands gripping her thighs to hold her in place. His lips brushed over her inner thighs, soft and teasing, sending sparks of pleasure through her already sensitive body. He looked up at her, his eyes dark with desire, before he dipped his head lower, his mouth finding her most intimate spot. 

The first touch of his tongue against her sent a jolt of pleasure straight through her, her hands instinctively reaching out to grip his shoulders for support. Beau took his time, exploring her with slow, deliberate licks, his tongue swirling and flicking against her in a rhythm that had her gasping for breath. 

He didn’t rush, savoring every reaction she gave him, his mouth working her over with a practiced skill that only heightened her pleasure. His fingers dug into her thighs, holding her steady as he delved deeper, his tongue moving in slow, sensual circles that left her trembling. 

Y/N’s head fell back, her fingers tangling in his hair as she lost herself in the overwhelming sensation of his mouth on her. Every nerve in her body seemed to be on fire, every stroke of his tongue pushing her closer to the edge. The intensity of it all was almost too much, and yet she craved more, her hips rocking against him as she chased the release she knew was just within reach. 

Beau hummed against her, the vibration sending a shock of pleasure through her that made her cry out his name. He loved the way she responded to him, the way her body moved with his, every gasp and moan urging him on. He could feel her getting closer, her thighs trembling as she tightened her grip on his shoulders, her breathing coming in ragged gasps. 

He focused his attention on her clit, sucking gently before flicking his tongue over it in quick, teasing strokes. Y/N’s body tensed, the pleasure building to an unbearable peak as she teetered on the edge of orgasm. With one final, skilled movement of his tongue, he sent her over the edge, her body convulsing as she came hard against his mouth. 

Beau held her through it, his hands steady on her hips as she rode out the waves of her orgasm, her cries echoing in the kitchen. He didn’t stop until she was completely spent, her body slumping against the counter as she struggled to catch her breath. 

Beau trailed soft kisses along Y/N’s inner thigh, the anticipation between them thickening the air. He paused, his lips brushing the sensitive skin as he looked up at her, a playful smile tugging at his mouth. “Ready for dessert?” he asked, his voice a low, seductive rumble. 

Y/N’s eyes, heavy with desire, gave him the only answer he needed, but she still let out a breathy, “Yes,” her voice trembling with need. 

Beau’s hands slid up her thighs, his intentions clear as he positioned himself between her legs, ready to push into her. The heat of the moment was electric, and he could feel the tension between them as they both ached to close the distance. But just as he was about to claim her, Y/N’s hand pressed gently against his chest, stopping him. 

“Maybe not here?” she asked softly, her voice laced with both desire and a hint of shyness. 

Beau’s brow furrowed for a moment, his mind clouded with the urgency of the moment, but her request quickly registered. He gave her a reassuring smile, understanding in his eyes. “Emily won’t be home until tomorrow,” he reminded her, his voice gentle, but Y/N insisted, a soft determination in her expression. 

“The bedroom,” she whispered, her eyes pleading. 

He could see how much it meant to her, so he didn’t argue. Instead, he scooped her up in his arms, her legs wrapped around his waist as he carried her with ease to their bedroom. The dim light in the room cast soft shadows over the bed, the atmosphere more intimate, more personal. This was their space, their sanctuary, and he understood why she wanted to be there. 

Beau laid her down gently on the bed, his hands lingering on her skin as he positioned himself over her. The look in her eyes, the way she gazed up at him with such trust and love, made his heart swell. He grasped both of her wrists with one strong hand, raising her arms above her head, holding them there with a firm but gentle grip. The slight restraint sent a thrill through Y/N, her breath hitching as she looked up at him, completely at his mercy. 

With his free hand, Beau caressed her body, his fingers trailing down her sides, over the curve of her hip, until they reached the warmth between her thighs. He could feel how wet she was, how ready, and it only fuelled his desire to make this moment as perfect as possible. 

He positioned himself at her entrance, teasing her for a moment before he finally pushed into her. The sensation of sliding into her so easily, feeling her warmth envelop him, made them both moan in unison. Y/N’s body arched into his, her legs wrapping around his waist, pulling him deeper. 

Beau’s movements were slow at first, savoring the feel of her around him, the way her body responded to his every touch, his every thrust. He watched her closely, the way her lips parted in pleasure, the way her eyes fluttered shut as he moved inside her. It was intoxicating, the connection they shared in that moment, more than just physical—it was emotional, spiritual, a complete surrender to each other. 

With every thrust, Beau held her hands firmly above her head, his grip never faltering as he picked up the pace, his hips moving in a rhythm that drove them both closer to the edge. Y/N’s moans grew louder, her body writhing beneath him as he pushed her higher and higher, each movement sending waves of pleasure crashing through her. 

Beau leaned down, his mouth capturing hers in a deep, passionate kiss as he continued to drive into her, the intensity of their connection making everything else fade away. It was just the two of them, lost in each other, their bodies and souls completely entwined. 

As he felt her tighten around him, her body trembling with the onset of her climax, Beau’s movements became more urgent, his own release nearing. He buried his face in the crook of her neck, his breath hot against her skin as let go of her wrists, her nails scratching his shoulders, needing him even closer that this. 

He thrust into her few last times, before sending them both over the edge. Y/N cried out his name, her body convulsing beneath him as she came hard, the sensation of her pulsing around him triggering his own release. Beau groaned deeply, his hips bucking as he spilled into her, the intensity of their shared pleasure leaving them both breathless. 

For a long moment, they stayed like that, bodies pressed together, hearts racing in unison. Beau slowly moved of her. His hand moved over her stomach as he looked at her. He kissed her softly, his lips lingering on hers as he whispered,  

“Listen... the storm is over.”  

--

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[astarionspointyears]

It’s been written a thousand times before, but here’s my take on Bite Night.

Hunger had always been the worst part of being a vampire spawn. Well, not the worst part, but certainly the most annoying. It was constant. An ever-present ache in his stomach that never let him forget what he was, even for a second. Astarion had become accustomed to it over the years. But that was when he was only luring targets back for Cazador and not fighting for his life every day. The hunger he felt now was something else entirely. It was a sharp, all-consuming feeling. Every instinct he had screamed at him to hunt, to kill, to feed. He could think of nothing else.

The day had been especially long and difficult. Starting with a long trek to the goblin camp in which they fought off group after group of redhats, and then killing that useless Priestess Gut. Astarion could feel himself slowing down, making mistakes. The squirrels and rabbits weren’t cutting it anymore, he needed something more.

Astarion’s eyes passed over the camp. The night was hot with almost no breeze. All was quiet around camp, his companions were sleeping. Even Scratch was sprawled out near the dying fire, his tail thumping softly against the ground every so often. He supposed he could try biting the dog, but that was risky. Scratch was liable to smell him coming and would alert the others, or otherwise attack him. Anyway, Astarion was sure his companions would not take kindly to him making a meal of their favourite pet. So who would it be, then?

It couldn’t be Karlach or Gale. He valued his life too much to even try for Lae’zel. That left Shadowheart, Wyll, and Tav. Any of them would do - blood was blood, after all. If he was being honest, Astarion quite liked Tav. Sure, she was a bit naive and just loved to play the hero, dragging them into quarrels they had no business with. It was both annoying and endearing. Tav was also the only one who genuinely made him laugh, the only one who sought him out for conversation. Astarion thought he could make her like him, if he tried hard enough. So should he risk biting her and breaking what little trust they had built? Astarion’s head said no, but his stomach said otherwise.

With another glance around to ensure everyone was still asleep, he crept over to Tav’s tent. The flaps were open to try to coax in a breeze. Tav was wearing only underwear and lying on top of her sleeping bag. Astarion could both hear and smell the blood rushing through her veins just below the surface of her skin. A pang of hunger hit him and he had to choke back a growl.

‘Thou shalt not drink the blood of thinking beings,’ Cazador’s voice echoed in his head, and Astarion paused. He was pretty sure he was no longer under Cazador’s control. Whatever the tadpole did to him, Astarion couldn’t feel the invisible leash that had tied him to Cazador for so long. But did that mean he would never be again? What would happen to him if Cazador found out he’d broken a rule? What new torture would he have to endure? Astarion swallowed the fear that threatened to rise up in his chest. He’d worry about Cazador later. He was leagues away in Baldur’s Gate, and Astarion would have to deal with the tadpole first.

Astarion turned his attention back to Tav, who was still sleeping peacefully. He leaned over her, his eyes focused on the pulse point in her neck. His lip curled up almost involuntarily to reveal his fangs. Another pang of hunger hit him like a lightning bolt, and he made his decision. He was going to do it, Cazador be damned. If Astarion had a heart, it would have been racing. He leaned in slowly, teeth bared and ready to strike.

Tav’s eyes flew open. A glint of steel in the moonlight, and a dagger was at Astarion’s throat. He staggered back, throwing his hands up in surrender. “No, no! It’s not what it looks like!”

“Yeah?” Tav sprang to her feet, holding the dagger out in front of her. “What the fuck is it, then? Are you robbing me, or trying to kill me?”

“Neither, I promise. I wasn’t going to hurt you. I just need…well, blood.”

“What?”

Tav looked him up and down. Slowly, as if she was taking in every detail. When she got to his face, Astarion saw her eyes widen and she took a step back. “A vampire? You’re a fucking vampire?”

“A vampire spawn,” Astarion said, as if it made a difference.

“I can’t fucking believe it!”

Astarion looked around to check if anyone had heard, but all was quiet. “Keep your voice down,” he pleaded. “I’m not some monster. I feed on animals. Boars, deer, kobolds - whatever I can get. I’m just too slow right now, too weak. If I just had a little blood, I could think clearer, fight better.”

Tav’s eyes narrowed. “You’re asking to drink my blood?”

“Well, yes,” Astarion said. “Please.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“At best, I was sure you’d say no. More likely, you’d ram a stake through my ribs. No, I needed you to trust me. And you can trust me.”

They looked at each other for a long, silent moment. Tav regarded him skeptically, her eyes searching his face for answers. Astarion could almost see her wrestling with herself as she took in what he’d said. Then, she lowered the dagger and tossed it to the side.

“I do. I believe you.”

“Thank you,” Astarion sighed in relief. He’d live to see another day. The relief was short lived, though. He was so hungry, and being so close to tasting her blood made him a little wild. It took a lot of restraint for Astarion not to lunge at Tav right then.

“Do you think you can trust me just a little further? I only need a taste, I swear.”

“What do you need me to do?”

“Just lie down, and try to relax,” Astarion said. “I’ll be gentle.”

“Gentle,” Tav said with a laugh. “You’re about to drink my blood.”

In fact, Astarion didn’t exactly know how to be gentle. Gentleness was not something he needed to think of when he was living on vermin. But he didn’t want Tav to struggle, lest his teeth miss their mark and kill her inadvertently.

“As gentle as I can,” Astarion amended. “I won’t make it hurt more than it needs to.”

Tav sat down and laid back on her bedroll. “Not a drop more than you need,” she warned. “Or I’ll ram a fucking stake in your chest.”

“Understood.”

Astarion knelt beside her. Tav lifted her chin to expose her neck. Once again, Astarion felt the excitement rise in his chest. Instinct took over as he brushed his teeth against Tav’s throat to feel for the artery. He found it, then instantly bit down. Blood gushed forcefully into his mouth and he couldn’t help but moan with satisfaction. Tav’s blood was sweet like ripe summer berries. Astarion’s whole body tingled and buzzed - he felt almost alive. Something in his brain purred with pleasure as the hunger slowly receded.

“Astarion,” Tav whispered. She tried to push him away, but Astarion wrapped a hand under her head and held her tighter. He couldn’t stop now. Blood dribbled out of his mouth and down his chin as Astarion gulped down more and more. It was satisfying, invigorating, intoxicating. He drank deeply, savoring the taste.

“Astarion!” Tav said, a little louder. She shoved him hard in the chest and managed to twist out of his grasp. Tav scrambled backwards and away from him, one hand gripping her throat.

“I - of - of course,” Astarion stammered, breathless. “That - that was amazing.”

Tav didn’t say anything. She only stared at him with eyes wide as dinner plates. A long, silent moment passed between them as they both struggled to catch their breath. Finally, Astarion realized how much he’d actually drank. It was probably a little further than he’d meant to go, but gods she was delicious.

“Are you all right?”

Tav nodded. “I - I think so.”

“I apologize, I was swept up in the moment,” Astarion said. “But it worked! I feel good. Strong. Happy!”

“Does it always feel like that?” Tav asked.

“Like…like what?”

Tav shrugged and shook her head. “I don’t know. Never mind. I look forward to seeing you fight.”

Astarion heard the uncertainty in her voice. There was something she wasn’t saying, but he didn’t want to press her. “It shouldn’t take long, so many people need killing,” he said as he got to his feet. “Now if you’ll excuse me, you’re invigorating, but I need something more filling.”

Tav nodded and Astarion turned to walk towards the tree line. He really did feel amazing. His mind felt clear for the first time in centuries, his body stronger than it ever had been. Was this what it was like, to feed on thinking beings? Was this truly how Cazador always felt? The thought made Astarion hate him even more.

Though perhaps it wasn’t all thinking beings. Perhaps it was Tav, specifically Tav, that made Astarion feel that buzz. Her blood tasted so exquisite, it was as if she was made just for him. It was difficult to imagine anyone else being so…satisfying. Could he convince her to let him do that again? Astarion thought he probably could, if he played his cards right.

[petitprincess1]

Radio Rebel (name pending?) AU

(This is me just testing the waters of how this will be received. Might make a full story or, at least, a combination of ficlets. It all depends on the interaction. Now, join me in: What if Alastor Joined The Vees)

~~~

Annoying murmuring and blubbering happening near me. That buzzing from the hot overhead lights that are constantly in my eyes. That second one from the right. It's always flickering. Pestering me. I asked for it to get fixed and no one did a damn thing!

The blathering is getting louder, making my ears twitch at the noise. I'm sure no one in the audience is caring at all. That one skimpy-dressed rabbit is just taking pictures of herself. That light is still flickering. More twitching! More buzzing! More and more monotony! When will this fuc-

"MR. RADIO DEMON!"

Alastor left out from his thoughts upon the sudden shouting. He blinked back into reality and looked around the talk show set that he was on. The hardwood desk he was sitting in front of, the plush chairs, wooden flooring, and, yes, the guest! He cleared his throat, pushed back his shortened hair, and smiled too widely, "Ah, yes, sorry about that, my dear! It's lovely having you back on air! How's your husband?"

The Sinner stared at him with teary eyes before muttering, "Dead....sir...."

Blink. Blink. "Ah," that was all Al could muster before a loud ringing shocked his system. The Sinner began tearing up again as makeup artists rushed over to her to begin cleaning her up. Alastor watched as the "live studio audience" went off to do...whatever the hell it is that they do.

The deer demon leaned back against his chair, adjusting his tight necktie, and let out a loud sigh. His smile was much smaller as he stared at the lights that tormented him and beat down with their senseless heat. This is supposed to be Hell, and yet why is this the only time he feels as if he's being tormented by flames?

A sudden rush of static coursed up Alastor’s spine, making his ears rise in alert and hair slightly rise. He sat up slightly straighter as a bolt of neon blue electricity shot down in front of his desk. Within the blink of an eye, the pure energy formed into his.....business partner. Al greeted, "Good morning, Vox! Judging by your twitching brow, I take it you saw this stunning broadcast?"

Vox's twitched brow suddenly stopped as a large, "friendly" grin appeared on his flat face. He chimed back leaning onto Alastor's desk, "That's right~ And I gotta say, Al....that was absolutely the worst fucking thing that I ever could've seen! So, would you kindly explain what exactly that was...please?"

The rad- deer demon stood up from his desk and scoffed, straightening out his jacket, "Oh, it's nothing, my friend. Just simply was distracted by that light that I told you many times that keeps flickering. You did say that you'd eventually look into it, but I didn't think that meant our entire undead lives! Hahaha!"

A distorted, broken-down laugh track came from Alastor. The TV host just blinked at Al and was very unamused by his humor. However, he just wrapped an elbow around the, now-stiffened, deer as he chuckled humorlessly. Vox patted his chest, "Now, now, Alastor. This isn't just an isolated incident. I'd be perfectly fine, but...this is like the 10th time this week and that makes me worry for you."

He pulled away from Al, kept him arms-length, and with his hands on the cervidae's shoulders. He sighed, "Come on, buddy. This is a safe place. No need to hold back on your partner, right?"

Alastor corrected, removing Vox's hands from his person, "Business partner. Also, I'm sorry that I don't exactly care for whatever woes someone wishes to force onto me."

"Well, yeah, no shit! No one cares for what that fucking COW says!" Vox shouted, turning his head towards the bovine Sinner. The widow wept as she ran off the set, forcing the lackeys to chase her down. The smaller Overlord took another breath as he took Alastor by the hand and made him sit down in his armchair.

He went behind the demon, dropped his arms down Al's chest, and whispered near his ear, "Are you still mad at me, Al~?"

Alastor's eye twitched as his smile widened into a grimace as he tilted his head away from Vox. The TV demon snickered lowly as he hummed, "I was right, wasn't I? Come on now. Don't be upset. We made a consented deal that would benefit both of us. We work together on this. Your happiness is my happiness and your pain is mine~"

Al felt a nip on his ear that made a loud screeching sound abrupt from him. He suddenly stood up and hit Vox in the face, causing the other's screen to turn to static in shock. The deer Overlord immediately moved away from the other as he casually continued the conversation, "Yes, yes, I'm aware. It's just that I don't see why exactly I need to do...this mundane garbage. Even though I am not a fan, a simple podcast is much closer to my style. Don't you agree?"

It took a few seconds for Vox's screen to turn back to normal before he groaned in annoyance. He rolled his eyes before stating, "Yeah, of course it is. However, you don't exactly see many people lining up to sell their souls for that shit. Well, unless you count those who are middle-aged or singles wanting to be raw-dogged by the next serial killer. You don't get to see and experience the desperation on wayward's souls faces! And, besides, how many can say they've been in the same room as the radio demon~?"

"I actually feel like more could-"

"Shut up. It was rhetorical," the object head cut Al off before he went onto his phone. Alastor tried to peer over his shoulder, but another unnerving shock went up his spine and caused him to move back. Vox smirked at the obedience before he turned around and said, "Alright, fine. How's about this? Why don't you take some time off, ay? You know, clear your mind and get some air.....until you're back on by ten, that is. I'm sure all of this can be resolved after, I don't know, getting something to eat or whatever."

Alastor's ears flattened against his head as he started, smile becoming small once more, "I actually haven't been-"

"ROTTEN BITCH-!!"

Both Vox and Al were shocked by various shouting and crashing going on above them. The TV demon growled in frustration at the nuisance. He told Alastor, "Hold that thought. Someone's being an obnoxious prick, yet again."

Vox turned around to cup Alastor’s cheek, making the other's ear twitch. His thumb rubbed against his grayed skin before he suddenly turned into electricity that traveled through the various cables on the floor. Al just shuddered once he was alone and muttered, "Pompous prick..."

(That's all you get, for right now. There's still more to this first chapter! Lmk what you guys think! Reblogs are very much appreciated :3c)

[kpop---scenarios]

Hidden Lies (1)

Pairing: Unknown x Reader

Warning: Violence, Crime, Almost Assault

Word Count: 4.9k

A/N: This is a remake of Poisonous Lies. Some parts may be familiar, and that would be why. I hope you enjoy!! Let me know who you think she'll connect more with!

This morning you woke up, listening to the sounds of birds chirping, the sun shining through your window, and feeling like it was going to be a great day. 

“YN.” Your mom yells. It was too early and you were trying to wake up peacefully. “Y/N!” She calls out again, but this time it's more of a screech. 

You groan loudly, folding your pillow over your ears, wanting to enjoy a little bit of time without her yelling at you. The sound of her shrieking voice was coming closer every second, until it was practically right in your ear. 

Your eyes are still closed as you feel your blanket being ripped off your body, your mom cursing at you. 

“Wake the fuck up!” She yells. “Don't you hear me yelling for you? I have shit to do, I cannot keep waking you up in the mornings! damn, you're going to make us both late” 

You were 22 years old and you still live with your mother. This life you had was sad, although it was your fault. This technically was your choice. You had decided to drop out of school and go home to help your mom out after your dad was sentenced to 10 years in prison for a lengthy list of crimes, although well it wasn't his fault, it also was at the same time. 

Your father had lost his job, and instead of telling your mother and them trying to figure it out, he went and got a loan from some people involved in crime that he most definitely should have not gone to. He didn't think about the fact that he would have had to pay that money back, plus interest. And when the time came for them to collect he didn't have it. So he was recruited for odd jobs until he had paid everything back, he didn't get very far though. His last job ended up being a sting operation and he was charged with trafficking drugs, intent to sell, attempted kidnapping, attempted human trafficking and a few other things. He wouldn't tell them why he did it, he didn't want things to get any worse, even though you weren't sure if they could or not. It wasn't his finest moment, he was trying to help his family even if it was the worst way possible. He was a good man and a good dad. Your father was a man who would do anything for his family, especially to protect them, and that’s exactly why he did what he did and now he was suffering the consequences of his own actions. 

“I swear to god, YN.” Your mom yells as she grabs your arm, trying to pull you out of bed. “If you don't get your ass up in the next 30 seconds, I'm going to lose my mind! Your train leaves in 45 minutes and if you dont get ready and leave in 10 minutes then you're not going to be able to see your dad.” She sighs. “It’s his birthday, remember.”

Shit. You quickly bolt up in bed, scrambling to get out of your bed. You were rushing around your room grabbing whatever looked the cleanest on your floor before heading to your bathroom, slamming the door in the process. 

Your mom sighs loudly before she leaves your room so you can rush around and get ready. You knew it was hard for her, not having your dad around, and you were sometimes difficult but you were trying. You felt guilty, especially since she wasn't able to go on the visit today, her shitty boss wouldn't let her have the time off. It had only been a year since he’d been locked up and you, mom and your brother had faced some very hard times. The three of you have been barely surviving paying the bills, mortgage, car, gas, groceries as well as trying to pay back your dad's loan in cash, rather than jobs similar to what your dad did.

Your mom was working 2 jobs, you and your brother both working full time, and all your money went towards everything needing to be paid, rarely leaving you much of anything left over but the three of you made it work, you always figured it out. You would do whatever you needed to do. 

You're running down the stairs, trying to put your hair into a semi decent bun and forfeiting any makeup. 

“You ready?” Your mom asks, car keys in her hand. 

“Yeah, just let me grab my bag.” you breathe. You run into the kitchen, snatching your purse from the counter before you head back to the front door that's left wide open. You roll your eyes heading out the door, closing it behind you before sliding into the passenger seat of the car the three of you shared. 

Your mom doesn't say a word to you on the ride to the train station. You hold your train ticket in your hand as she pulls in front of the station. “Please tell him happy birthday from me and that I love him.” she whispers as you're getting out of the car. 

You give her a half smile. “I will mom.” You say, getting out of the car and closing the door. It doesn't take you long to navigate your way through the station, you’ve been making this trip a few times a month. You tried to see him as much as you could but between work, work and work, you never had a ton of time. You picked a seat on the train, setting your bag down in the seat beside you. You just made it on time, seconds later you were on your way and you couldn't wait to see your dad. 

You stood in line, waiting to have your bag checked and to go through the x-ray machine. When that was all clear you headed to the front desk, showing your ID and filling out paperwork before you could even go into the room and wait for him. You sit down, your stomach is twisting with nerves. You weren't sure why, this was like any other visit you had been on. 

“LN, YN.” You hear. “You can head in now.” the guard finishes, pointing towards a visitation room. The door buzzes open and you see your dad immediately, sitting in the back, in the middle of the room. His fingers were locked together with his head down. It felt like it had been forever since you had last seen him. “Dad.” you sniffle and his head shoots up, a smile spreads across his face so quickly as he stands up from his chair. You walk towards him, his arms are wide open, waiting to embrace you. You crash into his chest, wrapping your arms around him as he does you, holding you tightly. You missed his hugs, and the safeness you felt from him. You couldn't remember the last time you had felt safe.

You both let go, tears brimming in your eyes as you both sit down across from each other. 

“Happy birthday dad.” you smile. He reaches out to grab your hand, whispering a small thank you while his head hangs low. “Mom also wishes you a happy birthday, and she says that she loves you.” You tell him, but you knew he already knew that. 

“I know,” he smiles. “I'm assuming that she had to work today?” he asks. 

You nod your head. 

“She tried to get the time off but you know Dave, he’s a dick and wouldn't even let her have the morning off.” you tell him.

But again, you knew he already knew that. Dave and your dad had been friends for years, but after your dad was sentenced the man acted as if he never knew him and was never friends with him. Your eyes wander around the room, as if anything would be different since the last time you were here. Your dad begins telling you a story, something funny that had happened the other day. You were listening, but you couldn't help but let your eyes wander.

You looked out into the common room, as you were scanning the room, your eyes landed on someone. A man, a very handsome dark haired, angry looking man staring directly at you. You tried to look away from him, but it's like you were locked in with him. He was so captivating you honestly didn't even want to look away, but you do, not before he smiles at you slightly, giving you a small wink. 

You’re brought out of your trance by your dad clearing his throat before continuing on with his story. You catch the end of it, laughing along with him even though you didn't really hear the rest of it. “Tell me about everything. What’s going on with you? How is your brother?” he asks. Before you can answer the lights of the prison flicker, the alarm blares as the red siren lights up the room on beat with the alarms. 

“What’s happening?” you yell over the loud sounds. You were feeling a little panicked but before your dad could say anything you both hear yelling. You looked at the commotion in the common room, which was only separated from the visiting room by one large metal door. You glanced around, seeing the other visitors watching what was happening but no one was reacting to anything. 

“I'm sure the guards will get it sorted, fights break out all the time. No need to worry.” Your dad tells you, trying to reassure you. 

You couldn't help but worry. You watched as more and more fights were beginning to break out between prisoners, prisoners and guards. You watched in horror, as the prisoners seemingly took the guards down more easily then they should have been able too. Your eyes were darting to every window that you could see and watched guard after guard collapse, inmates grabbing the guns or batons, a cluster of inmates slamming guards into the windows, shaking what is supposed to be bullet proof glass. 

Seconds later a fight in the visiting room breaks out after an inmate bashes a guard's head against the table. You're panicking now, other visitors are screaming, leaving their tables trying to escape, some pounding on the door, begging the guards to let them out.

The inmates from the common room begin trying to shoot the windows, or trying to pry open the doors into the visiting room. 

The doors were buzzed open letting the guards from the front now rush in from one side to try and calm the situation but instead they let the inmates rush through the other doors into the room where you and your dad were. He had taken you to the corner of the room, standing in front of you to protect you. You peek out from behind him, the two of you watching in horror as blood and tears are spilled, the cries and pleas from visitors are yelled out as the inmates attack anyone in their way, including those who were just trying to visit their loved ones. 

Your heart is pounding so loud, you can hear it in your ears. You feel weak, light headed. Your adrenaline hasn't kicked in yet. Your stomach is churning at all of the blood. Your father grabs your hand pulling you with him through another open door, and hopefully to safety. As soon as the two of you make it into another room, you're confronted by three large men. 

“Look.” Your dad begins. “We don't want any trouble. I'm just trying to keep my daughter safe.”

The man in front smiles, but even his smile is terrifying. 

“What a good dad you are. But don't worry.” He says. “We'll take her from here. I'll personally keep her safe.” He finishes, licking his lips. 

“No thank you.” your dad says. “We're just going to go.” You grip onto your dads orange jumpsuit. 

“Dad.” You whisper. He can hear the fear in your voice. 

He runs forward, punching the man, pushing him into the two men behind him. “Run YN! Run!” He screams as the men grab him, taking him elsewhere. You try to run for the door but you're grabbed, pulled back and pushed against the wall. The man who had been talking to your father stood inches from your face. You could see the evil in his eyes as he eyed you up. You can feel his breath on your neck as he moves closer towards you.

You look both ways, trying to find your way to escape. There's only one other door besides the one you came through and you're pretty sure it's locked. Fear jolts through your body as you try and think of anything you could possibly say or do to get yourself out of this situation but you know that there is nothing you can do, except try and fight. 

“Get away from me!” you yell, putting your hands on his chest and pushing as hard as you can. 

"Don't fucking do that.” He snaps, shoving you against the wall. He raises his hand as he gets closer to you, his finger tracing your face. You squeeze your eyes shut, tears rolling down your cheeks and you let out a scream, as loud as you could. You switched between yelling "help me." And screaming, hoping someone would come for you. 

The man slaps his hand over your mouth, angrily. "Why would you do that, don't you like me?" He asks. "It's been a long fucking time since we've been this close to a woman." He chuckles. You can feel his body pressing against you. You try to focus on anything else, but all you can hear is the sound of him breathing and the screams and cries of the ones caught in the riot. 

Just as you were about to give up, you feel a release. You can no longer feel his body pressing against you, you can hear yelling much closer. You open your eyes and see a dark haired man, and a familiar other dark haired man pulling the men away from you. Within seconds the man who wanted to attack you was down on the floor, and the two men who saved you grabbed your hands, pulling you out of the room and away from the chaos. 

Where was your dad? Was he okay? 

The three of you ran down a hallway, the alarms are still blaring, you can just barely hear police sirens from outside. 

The two men had no idea where to go, everywhere you looked there was violence, inmates with weapons and minimal guards that were alive. 

"Hey!" You hear from down the hall. You all turn around and see the man that had you pinned against the wall. Anger suddenly fuels you, wondering where your dad was. 

“What did you do to my dad!?” You scream. The man stops walking, a grin spreads across his face. “Don't worry, he's just fine. Now you two.” He says, pointing to the two men who were still holding onto you. “You don't get to take what's not yours.” He frowns. “I want her back.” He yells down the hall. The two men who had taken your father appear behind him. 

“Fuck.” One says. they turn around, pulling you in a different direction. You were turning corner after corner until one of them found an unlocked door. He opens it, quickly pulling you inside before slamming it shut. Your body is shaking, you can't help but sob. You never in a million years expected today to turn out how it has. 

Both the men quickly jump into action, grabbing whatever heavy pieces of furniture they can find to shove against the door. You watch them, still feeling just pure shock. 

"I'm sorry." You whisper. You weren't even entirely sure what you were sorry about but it felt appropriate in the moment. 

They both stop covering the door, staring at you. “Sorry for what?” One asks. 

“I.. I'm not sure. But you're in this mess now because of me.” You sigh. 

“We're in this because we didn't want to see an innocent woman get taken advantage of by some fucked up men. You didn't start it.” He says. 

“What's your name?” The other asks. 

"Y/N." You sniffle. 

“I’m Wooyoung, and this is San.” 

“Nice to meet you both. And thank you. I truly don't know what would have happened if you guys didn't save me.” 

“It's nothing.” San says, giving you a half smile. He could not stop staring at you, just like when you were in the visiting room with your dad and he had caught your eye. 

Before you could say anything back, the knob to the door started to shake. There's pounding at the door, and that's when you hear it. 

“Y/N.” your dad calls. “Y/N please let me in. They're coming.” He cries. “Please.” 

You run to the door, trying your best to move everything they had put against the door. 

“Y/N stop.” Wooyoung yells, trying to pull you away. 

“Please!” You cry. “Please help me. That's my dad, we need to let him in.” 

San and Wooyoung loom at each other. They both know this is a bad idea but knew that there would be no chance of you letting up. 

“Whatever happens?” San says. Wooyoung nods his head. 

“Whatever happens.” 

The two men help you pull the large filing cabinet, desk and other heavy things away from the door. You unlock the deadbolt, ripping the door open, the smile on your face falling immediately. 

“I'm sorry Y/N. I'm so sorry.” He cries. He's pushed inside the room by the three men from before. He trips, falling to the floor with a thud. You wanted to go to him but the man has a gun now and it's pointed directly at you. 

“You two aren't very good at hiding.” He chuckles. 

“Eric, you don't have to do this.” Wooyoung says, his hands up as he inches towards you. 

“Fuck you, Woo. You'd be the fucking same if you were locked in the hole for months at a time.” Eric snaps. “And now I have a chance for something real and you two are trying to ruin it for me.” 

“I'm telling you not to fucking do this.” San snaps. He can see Eric eyeing you up, your dad laying on the floor, one of Eric's men's feet pinning him down. 

“You think I'm gonna listen to you?” Eric laughs. “Just enjoy the show.” He says, grabbing onto Your wrists. Wooyoung and San try to lurch forward but they're stopped by the other two, flashing their knives. Eric pushes you against the wall, pulling you back towards him. He pulls you to the ground, climbing on top of you, straddling you. The gun is still shoved in your face. You say nothing, tears just stream down your face. Your eyes dart in-between San and Wooyoung as you silently plead for one of them to do something. To help you. 

Eric rips open your shirt, exposing your bra. You look away, seeing Wooyoung and San nod towards each other. They both lunge for the men, knocking them down. Your dad scrambles to his feet taking over for San, as he runs for Eric, who was too in his own world with you to hear anything else. San tackles him, causing Eric to let go of the gun, it slides across the floor. Eric scrambles beneath San as he delivers hit after hit. 

“Everybody get on the fucking ground.” You hear. Smoke bombs thrown into the room. Guards in full tactical gear flood inside, guns at the ready. San gets off of Eric, all of them men laying on the floor. “Hands on your head.” They yell. 

You do as you're told. “We have a hostage located.” They go to you first, helping you up. You're coughing loudly as they guide you out of the room, into another one to be treated. They'd finally gotten everything settled down and started getting inmates back into their cells, or medical treatment. 

“You took a fucking hostage, the warden is deciding your punishment.” A guard snaps at Wooyoung and San as they escort them past the room you're in. You push the nurse away, running out of the room. 

“Wait!” You yell. “They didn't take me hostage. They saved me from him.” You say, pointing to Eric. “He tried to.. he tried to...” You cry. “They protected me from him and I'll forever be grateful.” you finish. You walk over to the two handcuffed men, wrapping your arms around both of them, until they're both escorted off. Both of them looking over their shoulders, giving you a smile and a wink. 

Once you were checked out by the nurse and cleared to go, you were led out to the front where your mom was waiting for you. You sobbed into her shoulder as she hugged you tightly, apologizing to you profusely. She grabbed your hand, pulling you out to the car. you look back at the prison as she drives away, silently thanking Wooyoung and San for saving you. You'd have to find some way to properly thank them sometime. 

“Do you want to tell me what happened?” Your mom asks. 

“Dad and I were talking when fights broke out. Inmates were attacking guards and other inmates.” You sigh. “They opened the doors to the visitation room to let guards in but inmates rushed in.. one gut I guess had his sights set on me.” 

“Dad protected you right?” Your mom asks. 

“He tried. But there were 3 of them and one of him.. they took him away. And I was alone.” You look over at your mom, she has tears in her eyes as she listens to you. “But then two men rushed in and grabbed me, helped me escape. Took me to a room and barricaded the door.” 

“They didn't hurt you did they?” She whispers. 

“No mom, they didn't. Dad started banging on the door.. they helped me move everything and open the door but the bad guy was there with him, they pushed him in.. the guy tried to.. r..” you pause. Your mom looks horrified. “He didn't. Wooyoung and San tackled him and then the guards came in.” 

“That was extremely lucky that they were there for you.” She sighs. “I'm so sorry baby.” 

“It's not your fault mom. You didn't know that was going to happen.” You say. “No one could have predicted that would happen.” 

The rest of the way you drive home in silence. You really want to just go to bed. Luckily you didn't have to work today so you could do just that. As you walked in the house, your brother Jaehyun rushed to you, hugging you tightly. “I'm so glad you're okay.” He says, squeezes you even harder. 

“I won't be if you squeeze me anymore, you're gonna suffocate me.” You half chuckle, half panic. He lets you go, patting your back before heading back to the living room. 

“Do you want some lunch?” Your mom asks. You raise an eyebrow. You had assumed she would have had to go back to work. 

“Don't you have to go back to work?” You ask. She looks at the ground. 

“Uh, well.. Dave said if I left to go to you, I wouldn't have a job. It's not worth it if he won't let me go to my child who was in the middle of a prison riot. Don't worry, I'll find something else.” She smiles. 

Fuck Dave. You went up to your room, crawled in your bed and quickly fell asleep. The day was exhausting and you were still shook a week later. It was the week after the riot, and you had been answering everyone's questions about what happened, what it was like the guys who saved you. It was the talk of the town still but you were tired of talking about it. You were ready to forget about it now, which is why you agreed so fast when your friend Hwasa asked you to go out that night. There was a newish club that was apparently very exclusive and the two of you wanted in. You got ready in a hurry, doing your makeup and your hair the best you could. You slipped on your favorite club dress as well as shoes and headed for the front door. 

“I'm going out, bye!” You yell, slamming the door behind you. You run down the driveway heading to Hwasa's car. 

The drive to the club is long. When you finally see it, you're mesmerized. It's bigger than you imagined, the bright sign outside reads Ateez. You were so excited. The line was extremely long, and as you walked up to the bouncer he shooed you to the back of the line. It seemed like you were never going to get in. 

After about twenty minutes, you noticed a man staring at you that was walking the line, he walked past you, before backing up to look at you again. 

“L/N Y/N?” He asks, eyeing you up and down. 

“Yes?” You respond, staring at the handsome man. 

“Come with me.” He says, motioning for you and Hwasa to follow him. You and Hwasa look at each other, she shrugs her shoulders, following the man and dragging you along behind. He stops at the bouncer, pointing to you. “L/N Y/N. Add her to the list. VIP.” He finishes, bringing you both inside. What the hell did you do to get this sort of treatment? 

The two of you walk behind the man, following him really without any questions. You pass what looks like the main bar, the dance floor and head up some stairs. The rope is removed from the hook, letting the three of you into the VIP area. 

“You can stay here if you'd like. Your drinks are all on the house, whatever you'd like. If you need anything, my name is Mingi, don't hesitate to ask.” He says. 

“Um, I do have a question.” You say, slightly raising your hand. “How? Um, why? And um what?” You say. 

Mingi chuckles. “You helped my brothers out, by not adding time to their sentences. They both could have gotten a lot more time after that riot. But they didn't, because of you. So from now on, if you are in trouble or need anything, you have 8 men who will happily help you out.” He says. “Well 6 for now, until San and Woo get out.” 

“All I did was tell the truth.” You say.

“There's a lot of women out there who would have lied, knowing who those two are.” He says. 

 “Also, You're related to them?” You ask, ignoring what he said before. You were too busy trying to stop your mouth from hanging down. 

“Well.. in a sense.” He laughs. “Enjoy your night.” He finishes before leaving the room. 

“What the hell!” Hwasa shouts, heading over to your private bar. She orders multiple drinks and shots for each of you to be brought to your table. As you two sit there, listening to the music the DJ is playing, drinking and just having a good time you see five men walk into the room. They stop, staring at you. As they walk over they introduce themselves. 

“Y/N.” One smiles. “I'm Seonghwa, this is Yeosang, Yunho, Jongho and Hongjoong.” He says pointing to each extremely handsome man. 

“Nice to meet you.” You smile back, waving at them all while hiccuping in the process. 

“Thank you for what you did for Woo and San.” Seonghwa says. 

“Like I said to Mingi, I was just telling the truth. I didn't want them to get into trouble for saving me.” You explain. 

“If you need anything, and I mean anything, don't hesitate to call.” He says, sliding you a piece of paper. Written down are 8 phone numbers for you. This was honestly fucking surreal. Who knew this could happen for simply telling the truth? 

The men walk away and Hwasa stares at you in disbelief. “I almost wish it was me that day.” She laughs. “Let's go dance!” She says, trying to pull you up. 

“Let me just tidy these glasses.” You slur, stacking all the cups and shot glasses to bring back to the bartender. He laughs as you place them on the bar, and thanks you through his chuckles. 

You let Hwasa drag you down the stairs to the dance floor, immediately sliding her hands all over your body as you dance closely. The two of you always preferred to dance together, but sometimes if you were into it you'd dance with men.  This time you were too into dancing with Hwasa, you didn't want any men to disturb you. You turned around, grinding your ass into her as you looked around the club. You glanced up at the balcony and saw six men leaning on the railing, all their eyes staring directly at you. Why did you feel like your life was going to get a lot more interesting? 

[alwaysonf1]

big leagues?

Pairing: Charles LeClerc x Hamilton!OC

Genre: Slice of Life; Fluff

Word Count: 1.2k

Warning: Language

Rating: PG-13

Author's Note: She has a name now *shrug*

“It shouldn’t take that long to tighten it.”

“It wouldn’t if you’d get off my ass about it.”

There’s a huff, but Iman still sees the feat of the hovering mechanic. The man is impossible. Most of the time she doesn’t have any issues being around him, she even enjoys his company and what he can teach her. Their relationship started when he was one of the people in charge of her during an internship years ago. But he’s incapable of chilling the fuck out during a race weekend.

Iman would also love to have slid under the lifted car, tightened a bolt, and got up so that she can do other pre-practice checks, but the damn thing is stripped. She knows it was the older, know it all mechanic who hates her mere existence because she’d asked him to do it. He was smart enough to complete a simple task, but clearly not since he managed to fuck up three of them and now, she has to check every single one.

It’s tedious and she finds that all the others are fine but can’t bring herself to leave it up to chance. She refuses to risk Alex’s race and more than that potentially his safety. Sometimes it almost feels like she’s the only one who understands why being a little overly cautious in a sport where accidents are par for the course is a good thing.

There is chattering in the garage as everyone prepares, but it’s mostly quiet near the car. Her check has halted any work being done and she knows that some people are annoyed with her - outside of the man currently rushing her - but she doesn’t have it in her to care.

As she goes over the last two bolts, she hears the tapping of a foot and closes her eyes, taking a deep breath.

“Ben, stop hovering. I would be done already if someone didn’t strip these things. Maybe talk to him about his fuck up instead of helicopter parenting me making sure nothing else is messed up.”

Her tone is firm but doesn’t lean into disrespect. They have a dynamic where she can speak in a way that may seem like she has a lot of audacity to check a superior from an outside perspective, but she doesn’t use it. Not yet at least. As she looks over the last two, she knows that if he has something to say when she gets up words will fly.

Thankfully, Ben regains some sense and walks away. And in less than a minute she’s up and holding the three bolts she had to change out. She dangles them in the air for all to see and gives a pointed look to Gareth, who has the decency to look ashamed and then looks away from her.

Ben still has a look on his face, but she knows it’s out of stress, so she let it slide. Iman levels a look at him and he sighs and then turns to Gareth, professionally laying into the man while everyone else gets back to work.

The rest of the checks are done within the hour and that’s when the drivers begin to hang around their cars.

“Hope you didn’t break anything on my car. Don’t think I don’t know your plans to help Logan win,” Alex jokes.

Iman rolls her eyes.

“How is that plan coming along by the way? I’m in the points, but this guy is in my way. Need his car a little slower this weekend,” Logan chimes in.

They’re both dorks and Iman is unsure of how she puts up with them. She always thought that Logan was the worst in that department and was so unsure of how close the two drivers were, but if they weren’t bonded before they are now in all the ways they can mess with her. It’s like adding another brother to a roster that is already filled with heathens.

“If I wanted to slow you down, I wouldn’t mess with your car, Ally Cat. And maybe if you weren’t a punk and would just pass your teammate things would be easier for you, Logie Bear.”

Both men cringe at the nicknames. Alex's is a full body shudder and Logan looks like he’s going to throw up. Which brings out Iman’s first smile of the day.

“Now stop bothering me and go warm up.” 

With that she turns on her heel and walks away. Every other mechanic is taking a break so they can give their fool focus in the next thirty minutes, and she plans to do the same. Ben - Chief Mechanic - had her come in earlier than the initial schedule called for and she was starting to feel tired. She’d still have more than enough energy to focus until they wrapped things up, but she didn’t want to lag later. Especially since she’d promised to catch a late lunch with the team and then dinner with some of the drivers.

She takes several steps outside of the garage and takes a deep breath, looking around to see where she should go next. It takes a moment, but after little debate, she pulls off her lanyard, stuffs it in her pocket, and heads toward a fan area. 

“Wait. What way would you do it then?” Alex calls out as she starts walking again.

She says nothing. Doesn’t even look back.

“Iman. What way?” he shouts, sounding desperate. 

Laughter slips free and she makes sure it’s loud enough that he can hear and evil enough that a little fear hits him. Alex knows she would never do anything to fuck him over, but over the last two plus years he has also learned to be a little scared of her. Which was by design on her part, she prefers that people are a little afraid of her. And it’s just fun when it comes to her friends and family.

Her chosen path leads her past most of the garages and she doesn’t spare any of them a single glance. What they’re doing is none of her business. But she makes sure she greets anyone she makes eye contact with or who speaks to her. She’s not rude. At least not if they aren’t. 

Iman is pretty sure that most of them know by now that her mouth is worse than Lewis’; she’ll keep it diplomatic, but she’s less likely to hold back. She’s pretty sure Horner still holds some hurt feelings for some slick shit he tried to say in her presence because she refused to let it slide.

Toto high-fived her after and reminded her that she always has a job with him if she wants it. But she wasn’t going to use that connection just yet.

The last garage she passes is the Ferrari one and she can’t help but look at the driver doing his warmups just outside of it. His back is partly to her so she picks up speed to get out of there, but before she can pass his head snaps in her direction as if he could sense her presence.

Charles’ lips curl into a smile when she meets his eyes and then he winks at her. Iman makes a show of rolling her eyes, says hi to his trainer, and continues walking out of there and into the crowds of people milling around.

Her heart doesn’t calm down until she’s far enough that she knows he can’t see her.

[got-into-worm-by-mistake]

Agitation 3.10 Live Reactions

(This is me, writing reactions as I read, because why the fuck not. They're not complete, mature thoughts taken after I sit back and evaluate what I've read. Consider them as such)

It's July 4th, work is dead, I've got nothing else to do, let's try to plow through a bunch of these, shall we? At the rate I've been going I'll be at this all year.

The rest of the battlefield was chaos.  Patches of darkness covered everything, and the landscape was distorted.  In some of the areas Vista had warped, the rain wasn’t falling in a straight line.  One spot in particular had the rain moving horizontally before it dropped to help fill a massive puddle thirty feet across, where her power had made an indent in the ground.

I do like Wildow's attention to detail here, and the way these powers just... absolutely fuck everything up like this, and stay like that.

Bitch screamed, and it was a long and primal noise, filled with rage.  I was still inside the bank, watching things unfold through the window, barely able to hear it, and it still made my skin crawl.  So he’d shot the dangerous psychopath with a blast that made her angry.  Someone would have to explain that one to me at a later date.

I'd guess Gallant didn't shoot her with rage, it's just that Rachel's kind of messed up. But I could be wrong.

Seems an odd choice though, if he did.

Apparently that was order enough, because Judas charged at the teenager that was dressed like a science fiction Lancelot.

I love descriptions like this because they both tell us absolutely nothing about how it looks... and also tell us everything. I once read a fic that described the armor of a guy from a culture that went from medieval tech to space travel in like, 100 years (sorta, long story) as being 'Lord of the Rings, with Sci-Fi bolted on' (the POV character was from Earth), and it both told us nothing, and yet, told us everything.

Descriptions are hard, ya'll. Worst part of writing. Props to Wildbow.

Was someone’s power at work, giving me a headache?  There wasn’t anyone in the Wards, I was pretty sure, who could mess with your head like that.  Gallant could mess with your emotions, but he had to hit you with a light blast to do it.  The person on the roof, then?  I was fairly confident there wasn’t anyone in the Protectorate or New Wave who could affect me like this.

No one suspects the healer!

(also no one knows the healer can do this, but)

.  A gun, no less than fifteen feet long, with a barrel three or four feet across, all turret mounted on a circular platform not unlike the board he was riding.

I know technically there is no overkill, just "Open fire" and "I need to reload" but also...

Overkill.

I jumped for cover the moment I realized what he was doing.  There was a muffled sound, more a very large person someone hitting a punching bag than what I’d expect a laser cannon to sound like, and the window exploded. What was he doing?  We had hostages inside.  I turned to check, and saw there weren’t any hostages near me.  Did he know that?  Heat sensors in his visor?  Was someone watching me through the cameras and passing him info?  Damn it!  There was too much I didn’t know, and Tattletale wasn’t around to fill me in.

You know, if Kid Win and Victoria were dating, he could be the Collateral Damage Ken to her Collateral Damage Barbie.

But JESUS Kid, what the fuck?

(Yes, CDB is an incomplete representation of Vicky, but she does earn the nickname fairly at the early stages. I'm also going to assume it's an unfair representation of Kid Win, but still, *Man* wtf?)

The bugs were slow to react, slow to move and some were slipping from my grasp, returning to their instinctive behavior.  Making matters worse, I wasn’t blind to the fact that every time I gave a command, my headache got exponentially worse.

Given that Amy's little messing with the Black Widows only affected them, I'm surprised? Or is this just some sort of Master headache? Is she doing more with the swarm than usual?

 Aegis didn’t try to run this time.  He stood his ground and reached for his utility belt.  He retrieved something that looked like a miniature fire extinguisher. Then he pulled the pin. For the second time in a matter of minutes, I dove away from the window.  It wouldn’t be a grenade, but the option that made the most sense-  I squeezed my eyes shut and covered my ears just in time.  The explosion the flashbang grenade

Flashbang. Much more responsible, Aegis usually is in fic, so presumably in canon too. Tracks.

and Regent was striding out of the darkness, in Kid Win’s direction.

With his outfit and mask that actually probably looks kinda badass.

I whirled to face the voice, and saw the freckled, brown haired hostage that had been glaring at me when we’d first taken control of the bank lobby.  After that, I saw only stars as she slammed something large and blunt into the side of my head.

AMY! :rofl: Finally!

Okay, so like, I get that Amy's not the MC of Worm, but like, I've been waiting for the Fire Extinguisher smash the entire time I've been reading this Arc, so bear with me.

Amy's blorbo, okay?

[weepinglavenders]

Staying Put, PT 3:

He woke up in a white room, padded aside from the steel door that had a small window at the top and a hatch at the bottom for food. Like he was a god damn hamster, he sat up against the wall, staring at the door, wanting to laugh as he thought about what had happened. He really was crazy, absolutely insane. He shot two people, one more human than the other, and he’d enjoyed it. The rush of power and vengeance that came with them falling to the ground, crying in pain as their bones were snapped through.

He wanted to do it again, wanted every one of these so called scientists to burn in hell. His eyes then locked on to the words above the door and had to fight the urge to break the window.

WCKD is good

“If you all are so bloody good then you shanks should really make your hostages cells a bit more homey.”

He called out, staring pointedly at a corner in the ceiling, something telling him that there was at least a camera there. The sound of a buzzer came through the room and the door opened, a women with blonde hair and a mask stepped in, her eyes squinted like she was smiling.

“Hello Newt. It’s been awhile. I’m Chancellor Paige and you are not a hostage, you’re our guest.”

Her voice was calm and for some reason it made him angry, made him want to scream. He stood and looked at her.

“A guest? I thought we were past the whole trials, lying test thing.”

“We are, this is not a trial or a variable, this is an invitation.”

“An invitation?”

“To help us.”

“Then I decline.”

He crossed his arms and Paige sighed, pulling out a gun and pointing it at his chest.

“Then this is a threat. You are going to help us. You and Thomas.”

Newt did start laughing then, despite the weapon pointed at him, he laughed. The Chancellor lowered her arm slightly in surprise, eyebrows furrowing.

“You’re threatening me with that? God you people are so fucking stupid!”

He grins at her.

“Do it. Shoot me. It would be a bloody blessing and a better outcome then helping you cowards.”

“Your answer truly saddens me Newt.”

Paige sighed, shooting the gun and Newt didn’t have the time to even curse as the jet of electricity hit him in the chest and wrapped around him like a giant spider, forcing him to the ground as his body quaked. Newt would’ve said it was the worst pain he’d ever felt but he had thrown himself off of the maze walls and also watched his best friend and lover kill himself so being electrocuted was more like being given a shot of straight vodka.

He was taken to a room after the bolt of electricity stopped trying to kiss his heart and then set on a medical bed, staring up at the familiar mask with sharp objects hanging off it.

The swipe. They were going to fuck with his memories again. He went to move and quickly realized they had temporarily numbed him, particularly paralyzed.

“Relax Newton, we’re just starting where we had to leave off last time you were here. Your friends already removed their own Swipes in Denver and you won’t be much use to any of us if you still can’t remember your past.”

Paige smiled at him and then he was put under anesthesia and the mask was placed on him.

He woke up in the same room, a bandage wrapped around his head which was pounding. Newt groaned, sitting up again and flipping off the tray of food that was left by the door. His tongue felt like a lead weight, not even able to curse at WCKD for their shitty looking food. He leaned against the wall and gasped, a rush of images hitting him.

He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to focus on one of them, landing on a memory of him, Ably, Minho, Thomas and Teresa in a closet, a maintenance closet. They had stolen some food during dinner and brought it with them, the five of them talking. They were all about 11 to 12 years old, making useless plans for when a cure is made, Newt listening intently as Thomas talked about living in a house by the beach near all of them.

It filled Newt with hope that was slowly crushed as he looked at Teresa and her love filled eyes. She always looked at Thomas like that and he never noticed, or at least he didn’t seem to notice. Ably never seemed to notice how Newt looked at him too and he felt pity for Teresa.

Newt snapped out of the memory, shaking slightly. Tears brimmed his eyes and he stared at the door. He needed to get out of here.

[cr-noble-writes]

2023 Mass Effect Fic Recs

As we approach the end of the year, I want to shout out some really fantastic fics I've read this year. Some of them were posted this year, some of them were posted earlier, but I found them this year so they're going on the list.

Some of these deal with some pretty heavy issues, so mind the tags!

Natural Fissures by happychica

The necessities, the demands, and the endless pressure that is war finally crack the foundation that is Commander Shepard. Forced to face his demons, John is reminded once again that the people he fights for are willing to defend him, even from himself.

This fic is an ongoing longfic set during the ME3 timeline, and it is an absolutely incredible piece that follows not only Shepard, but the rest of the crew in their personal journeys alongside the crisis of The Reaper War.

Fugue by Swaps55

A few minutes more and they wouldn’t have even been on the ship. The Mako was scheduled and ready for drop, both of them suited up and ready with the final checklist completed.

A few minutes more, and they would have watched the Normandy burn from the surface of Alchera.

But they didn’t get those minutes.

Alchera, and the two year gap.  

Really, I recommend the entire Opus series, and everything related to it (really, anything that Swaps has written). Fugue is an absolutely beautiful depiction of the journey of grief and hope, and I honestly still don't have the words to express the things it made me feel.

Phoenix by mallaidhsomo

Shepard went down with his ship, only to wake two years later and find out the love of his life had gone down, too. Or so he thinks.

First off, I am an absolute sucker for Subject Zero!Kaidan. This fic is an incredible depiction of that, and I may be slightly just a little bit mildly in love with Sidney Shepard.

Descent by mallaidhsomo

Leo Shepard makes a promise to Ashley Williams that he intends to keep.

Or, relationships are complicated.

I adore Leo Shepard. I highly recommend reading all three posted parts of the Us Against The World series. The relationship building in this fic is just so good, and I have found my new favorite side character in Bolts the Drone.

An Unfortunately Sexy Man by missjlh

Jarun Tann is an obtuse fool. Unfortunately, he's an obtuse fool that Addison, Kandros and Kesh all have a crush on. The three of them get together to offer one another moral support through what is clearly the very worst thing to have happened thus far in Andromeda.

This fic is so god damn funny. I love it so much, and when I am having a particularly bad day, I go back and read it. It's such a well written comedic piece.

Volta by DanDenbo

At the outset of the war, Kaidan Alenko wonders about his path - whether to become a spectre, whether to rejoin the Normandy, and what to do about his feelings for Shepard. During a mission on Chalkhos, he finds his answers.

Non-binary Shepard/Kaidan battle couple. I feel like that honestly is enough of a recommendation. This is an incredibly well written piece. Shepard and Kaidan's relationship, and the complex nature of it, is just so well done.

Life Behind Enemy Lines by Otempora

The Illusive Man leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers. “We humans have a saying. The enemy of my enemy is my friend.”

Shepherd was familiar with the phrase, but turians didn’t think that way.

---

Species swap AU, Human!Garrus/Turian!Shepard. ME2 retelling. Not a standalone.

I would kill and/or die for Shepherd and also for Gareth. An incredibly well done, intriguing, and captivating species swap. Shepherd is such a complex character, and she makes my heart hurt.

There are honestly a billion more fics I would recommend, but it would end up being the world's longest tumblr post, so I am gonna call it here for now.

Please enjoy!!

[tothetoonandback]

PV post cause i have to learn to post what i want girl🙁. Hello tumblr omg!

Main sillies down yonder to be so fr… YES i’ve been silly abt one guy YES i can be silly abt his relationships (female friends). Colleen cruiser and ethan earle friendship my beloved y’all are crazy. Seen each pther at ur worst phases (7th grade and beyond)

Also in the read below i’m yapping just so ur aware girls

Just like talking abt my guys… first ref w Lawrence specifically! He’s so funny to me idc. Was sort of a sidekick/ally to Sierra’s mom, and his whole thing was just being rlly fast LMAO. Speedster if u will… he managed to run himself into the future and at some point during Sierra’s Bplt era ran himself back and just retired as soon as he found Paige, one of the last living ppl in his family besides ppl out of state. He’s living comfortably to say the least!!! Paige also is good friends w Leah and Sierra!

Ellie oohh… lovingly married to Cal and a proud choir teacher fr! Loves her students a ridiculous amnt! Her shtick is being able to control certain parts of ppl, which she’s still working towards LMAO, but she mainly sticks to vocal cords, eardrums and parts of the brain related to speech. She managed to let herself go crazy w her voice without hurting anything and has a craaazy range LMAAOO.

T.V. and Carmen…. Carmen specifically is a menace on her blog, which she purely posts abt the latest hero/villain news, including drama shit and general news happening. T.V. is her little sidekick and manages to get whatever info they need, though she has a very easy time doing it on her own. Cam also runs the yearbook club and does the same damn thing with her own school. T.V. is much more chill and aspires to be a big comic artist, very much taking inspo from ppl like the Blaukers :-)). They also have a secret dream of hosting some sort of television segment or show LOL.

The Blaukers… both retired from being comic artist/writers interchangeably but Chris is more seen from his art and Bobby’s more seen from his writing. They met from both starting comic series abt Carolina’s Bolt, and eventually started to make the series together, making probably the most memorable series of any real-time hero. They sort of got the trend of it going as well, but at some point retired due to realizing that it was a bit immoral to treat heroes that way LMAO. They’ve been lenient on speaking on the issue seeing how more modern heroes act but are still very invested in the comic industry, even if they aren’t directly in it. Definitely caught in what’s going on and know everything happening with everyone

Kyra and Sean yaaayy! Not much to say abt them, but Sean is Sierra’s step brother and the both of them have always had a big influence on both Sierra and Luka. Mostly Luka when he was still with the family!

Chief Frye is just funny i just like thinking abt her sometimes

CAL colleen beloved thing oh my god. Lovingly married to Ellie!!! Local artist as hell, has worked w abt every medium u can think of and has sold her work to plenty of art shows and fairs. Def knows her craft. Also a good ally for heroes and villains alike, tho mostly villains LMAO, because she can get her say abt just anything. She gets her shit together for a good price fr. Also a childhood friend to Ethan, they’re silly!:-) type to get picked the hell up by her large wife and her large friend

Also for the doodles: mayzie go crazy i need to post abt her more. And cal having tats just makes me soooo so crazy!

Girlcode w the pads i love sierra and e’s relationship, even pre-everything. They’re so

[tamelee]

Please explain how you can like b*ruto while criticizing it at the same time we're confused. And then you write about adult nar/sas/ even though they've done the worst. How can you say that era is so great? Just tryna understand here. Usually I get your logic but not this. Also when you think it s done?

Hi Non.e, when did I say that?

I said, I felt like 'Boruto' as a show had a lot of potential. And what I mean with that is that I feel like Kishimoto was definitely on to something with the movie when it comes to a major storytelling element which is 'Theme'. But also the change the world itself had undergone when it comes to technology. How incredibly frustrating it must be how these gremlins suddenly lack the motivation to train because they can simply get every Jutsu they need in a damn mini-scroll anyway. People don't even need any Chakra anymore. It's like people skip the process to get to an end-result as fast as possible. Does it sound familiar??????

That's huge!!

And for some reason these kids learn Jutsu fast as hell.

The kid learns a damn Rasengan immediately. Like in what, 2 days?

This dystopian, cyberpunk'ish-type of vibe has so much potential for so many interesting arcs despite the bitter edge it gives. But like.. the writers don't even give a damn it seems like. It's almost as if Kishimoto wants to take advantage of the potential but is tired of it too. When things don't go your way or when the people around you don't value the same things.. I mean, I'm just speculating. And even if I like the SNS moments, there are parts in the movie and the beginning of 'Boruto' that I really, severely dislike too. You wouldn't hear/read me say that 'Boruto' is great in any way. I liked Sarada in Gaiden for example but she's annoying as hell in 'Boruto'. Her obsession with her father makes me uncomfortable. These kids are literally out of nowhere lecturing Sasuke... Boruto bolts after cutting Sasuke off and Sarada jumps in trying to be all sassy towards her father.

"Do YoU uNdErsTand? HeY!" They irritate me. Have some respect gdi. Sasuke whose adult character sketches from Kishimoto looked absolutely amazing. Who is at the end of Shippuden together with Naruto one of the most powerful Shinobi and forced to get nerfed to favor an out-of-balance power-scale. One that doesn't even make sense in the slightest. Not even with technology. Whose eyes who see everything can't even see a kid with a kunai coming. No wonder ms. experiment needs glasses. LoGic. Idc. And it's not just that, the way they're drawn too...

They're talking about Sasuke, yet the visual focus is so much on Sarada's bare legs in that tiny, TINY dress. Creepy as hell. BARF. Mind you, I just took your hand briefly and showed you a few panels from just the first 2 Chapters. There are infinitely more moments that annoyed me. The writing is bad, it's visual representation is bad, I don't like these kids although Boruto's growth as a character is okay (I haven't caught up yet)- I'll say it again, you will not hear/read me say that 'Boruto' is great. Ever. But the world and the era had potential. That's all.

[heretic-saint-taliesin]

AUDIO LOGGING SYSTEM: salvage ship The Wretched_

Flight Engineer Boris Strugatsky reporting. The other members of the crew are dead and the engines remain non-operational, though ship integrity remains good and life support systems are still active. I successfully jettisoned the intruder from the airlock, but it remains alive and continues to try to access the ship. With a little luck I can repair the distress beacon and somebody will pick me up. This is Boris, the last survivor of the Wretched, signing off_

DAY 1 - SALVAGE SHIP THE WRETCHED_

[Communications commence, notable static in recording and an irritated tone of voice_]

Day One, salvage ship The Wretched. Flight Engineer Boris reporting. Don’t ask me why I’m sticking to formalities because I don’t know at this point. Maybe it’ll keep me sane - maybe I’m already beyond hope. Regardless. If this transmitter log is being heard anywhere then please_

[muffled sound of arms flailing_] 

Fucking hell, come and get me! I want off of this bucket of bolts sooner rather than later!_

[Audible creaking and groaning noises. Boris makes a shuddering noise_]

Until then… Tasks. This shitbucket will collapse on top of me if I don’t try and maintain what I can_

[Footsteps and the sound of creaking around the edges of the microphone. Boris’ voice is distant as microphone is being held in his hand_]

I’ll just get what I can do, done. That’s the best I can fucking hope for. Maybe talking into this thing while I work can at least be some kinda company. Or at worst it proved I at least tried to live before I died._

[Another loud groan_]

Ship collapse or that thing? I get the best life choices_

It’s hard to think with all this creaking. Everything sounds like it’s on its last fucking legs - because it fucking is! When we fought it… That thing was smashing through walls and tearing up doorways like no tomorrow. I’ve spent five hours patching the worst of the holes and doors at least. Don’t think there’s a way I can get the automatic opening functional again but at least I can slide and lock things shut if I have to - and GOD I hope I don’t have to_

There’s also all the support beams and towers, I checked them over and welded a few extra limbs of scrap on where I could - it might mean they hold up a little more. The central warehouses took the worst damage. Nothing of use in them anyways so I sealed them and barricaded the structures to try and prevent collapse_

[Footsteps, sound of tapping metal with metal_]

I didn’t build this thing so I can’t claim to be an expert on how The Wretched was put together but I did fly the damn thing so they showed me the schematics. I have a vague idea of what should go where and why, but some of it’s so royally fucked I’ve just been guessing where it fits and what it does. World’s worst puzzle. Arkady would have laughed at that_

[Pause. Sniff_]

Not gonna think about Arkady right now. Shit to do_ 

[Several minutes pass with the sounds of banging and welding static_]

Least I can say I tried. Structurally she’ll hold for… Some amount of time longer_ 

[Heavy breathing and pained sounds crackle through the recording system_]

I fucking hate manual construction. I’m an engineer who designs and flies not builds. Of fucking course I go and slice my fucking arm open on a bent piece of sheet metal. My coat’s more ruined and bloodier than it was from before and there’s this wound to contend with… God I hope it’s not deep I don’t want to bleed out before I can at least try and see what’s left of the Medbay_

[Footsteps and a door sliding, scrape of a chair_] 

Okay okay… Calm. Don’t panic, Borya. Panic will make shit worse. Mary always said it ain’t the wound that does you in it’s the shock. Just gotta not… Not lose it. Where’s_

[Rummaging and clink of bottles_]

Antiseptic. That’s gonna hurt. But the state of this ship, even in space, could mean all kinds of stuff has gotten into this gash right? So Mary would say you gotta clean the wound first. She’d say… What would she say?_ 

[The sound of a bottle being opened and the rustle of clothing. Boris’ voice does a vain attempt at sounding feminine_ ]

“Oh Borya, you go get into a fight with the training dummies again? ADAM told you not to go busting your knuckles open because you hate the sting of rubbing alcohol! But now I have to clean it up!”_ 

[His own laughter interrupts him but it quickly dies down to a heavy sigh_]

Yeah. This is gonna fucking sting alright. Mary… I wish you were laughing at me right now_ 

[Liquid sound and a loud hiss and yell_]

F-FUUUUUUUCK! Fuck… Fuck-k-k! Ow… Ow okay… Okay wound clean… Still bleeding but at least ain’t no chance of infection. Though.. Hm_

[Fabric sounds as Boris bandages his wounds_]

Mary kept tetanus vaccines in her back store - I should use one. Just in case_ 

[Pause_]

Medbay back store’s off limits. She’s the only one with access_

[Pause_]

I have her ID card on me. I can… No I can’t. No. I… I have to. I need a shot or I’ll be at risk. Mary… Oh fuck I’m so sorry_

[Footsteps and a door sliding open. A beep is heard in the card reader_]

It worked_ 

[Pause, heavy sigh before footsteps echoing_] 

Barely looks different to how she left it before I bet. She was working on all kindsa things for the ship. Bacterial experiments, hydroponics and all that kinda stuff. She’s got samples from probably every known disease and cure up here I bet. But… Vaccines. Mary where’d you have kept those?_

[Rummaging sounds. Several cabinets opening and closing and a few being rattled that are clearly locked. Eventually an exclamation_ ]

Here! Okay… No need to rummage around in her stuff any longer then. Just… Needle prep, jab it in, wash up and then do not disturb any further. She’d hate me being in here messing her organisation up anyway. Okay… Needle… Needle_

[Faint sound of tapping glass_]

That gets the air out right? Looks good. Upper arm… I’ll do the side that ain’t sliced open right now. What would she tell me? Uh… Right! Small prick!_ 

[Muffled noises and a yelp. The injection needle clatters to the floor and Boris makes a pained hiss_]

Ahhhh-oooow… Well no heroin habit for me because I am not doing that ever fucking again. God I hate this. I fucking hate this. I’m going back to my room for the night. No more of this fixing things up and shit today_

Flight Engineer Boris Strugatsky Signing off_ 

[miss-rum-hee]

i’m going to get jumped for this for this i can feel it in my soul

but here we go!

- G3 designs are complete ass & an even bigger downgrade than G2. The colors are ass, the outfits are bland & basic, there are too many fucking motifs & patterns, etc. It’s a complete & utter eyesore from start to finish. Clawdeen & Lagoona are easily the worst offenders of the whole lot. Lagoona’s colors clash SO MUCH. 

Clawdeen is not much better. Her outfit has too many moon motifs. Her outfit is just one main color, just in different shades with little-to-no experimentation with other colors.

The only design that I “liked” (keyword: liked) was Frankie, & even then I still have issues with their design. 

Once again, too many fucking motifs. It’s like they’re trying too damn hard to overcompensate for the fact that they don’t have the rights to the Universal monster design anymore (green skin, neck bolts, etc).

What I ALSO hate about the designs is how inconsistent they are when compared to the show. Both Toralei & Ghoulia have long hair when their designs in the shows have short hair & pigtails respectively, Cleo has an entirely different outfit. It’s just???? Why.

- I don’t understand how G3 Frankie having a prosthetic leg is “disability rep”. This is a ghoul who can canonically sew on limbs at will & you’re seriously telling me that they needed to have a metal prosthetic leg? It’s not like it’s the same as people who have to have a prosthetic leg for the rest of their lives. Like Frankie’s parents could easily just get them a new organic leg or something.

- The new races they’ve given some of the ghouls are lazy & tokenist as fuck. It doesn’t help that they partly fall into stereotypes too (Lagoona being a Spicy Latina with that “I’m like chili mango, I’m sweet & I’m spicy” line, Draculaura having an overbearing parent & her being a perfectionist, Clawdeen being shown as half-Mexican by her liking tamales in her song). Like seriously, Mattel, you couldn’t have made new characters if you wanted more representation in the cast? I know that some of the new characters in G2 (Moanica & Ari) didn’t exactly go over too well, but that’s cause they were bland replacements for well loved fan-favorites (Ghoulia & Spectra). I’m not opposed to having more representation, but the way they did it is just lazy.

G1′s representation wasn’t perfect either but I’m not giving G3 brownie points for doing the bare fucking minimum

Like, there are monsters from Honduras, Taiwan, China, Mexico that they could’ve made dolls based off of, I don’t understand why they just chose to raceswap instead of making new characters like G1 did.

Hell, I’ll show you some monsters from these countries:

El Cadejo (Honduras)  -  A supernatural spirit that appears as a dog-shaped creature. It roams isolated roads at night, according to Central American folklore of indigenous origin. There is a good white cadejo and an evil black cadejo. The white one protects travelers & is benevolent, while the black cadejo is malevolent & lures people to make bad choices.

Jiang-Shi (China) - A Chinese vampire that moves around by hopping with it’s arms outstretched. 

Na Tao Ji (Taiwan) - The ghost of a spurned widow who haunts pine trees.

La Llorona (Mexico) 

You see? There are already monsters to get inspiration from for new characters, but NOPE. Just raceswap already existing characters, cause that’s just soooo much easier /s

Sidenote: In the show Draculaura is half Taiwanese but in the movie she’s Filipino. Same thing for Lagoona, she’s Honduran in the cartoon but Colombian in the movie. It feels like they’re just throwing ethnicities around & seeing if it sticks or not & it makes me dislike G3 more than I already do.

- I know that the accents in G1 were iffy & I see why some people have issues with them, but giving almost EVERYONE American accents feels like a very lazy way of fixing the issue. These mfs sound like they’re all from fucking California now. Why does fucking DRACULA sound like an American, he’s Romanian? Where is his iconic accent???!!! 

- The new box art is ugly, bland & uninspired. It makes the dolls blend in with all the other dolls on store shelves.

- Frankie being made nonbinary in G3 feels performative, & it doesn’t help that Mattel’s already misgendered them on some of the toy boxes for the dolls. I feel like that says a lot about how much they’re actually gonna commit to it.

- I get that making Abbey Nepalese is more accurate given that she’s supposed to be from the Himalayas, but I still miss her Russian accent. I wish they could’ve just changed her country of origin so that she’d be from Russia of even Siberia instead, given that both countries are listed on the page for the Yeti.

- Why were the movie & the cartoon so closely released to each other if they take place in entirely different universes? It’s just very confusing, especially since some of the plot points in the movie aren’t in the show. Like Draculaura not needing to hide her doing witchcraft from her dad is just dropped from the show & she’s now back to hiding it. Like it begs the question of who thought this was a good idea at ALL.

what are some controversial monster high opinions or some “hot takes” I’m starting a collection

[silvermuffins]

Pokemon Scarlet Liveblog! Part 6

We are trying to make actual progress but man I just want to disappear into the wilds never to be seen again

right so we are currently running around behind the fuckoff bird mountain, hoping to find another fuckoff bird to catch for our very own but in the meantime also headed for the next Team Star base

these mudbray keep bolting away from me with distressed sweatdrops but they keep going exactly the direction i go to try and not battle them

eyyyy Scoots is evolving! We can grab that egg (actually might be helpfult o have scoots on the team for that, since its ability....hmm) well at least we can pull something out of the box!

We're grabbing Fidget. I wanna fill in the dex, it's an early mon, it can't evolve in too weird a way.

i still don't know what Mold Breaker does but Pebbles has that ability and it's like fuck yeah she does, the mold and everything else she encounters

once again it is mass naptime at the picnic....oh Pebbles either sneezed and woke herself up or had a nightmare....okay everyone's had a bath. What sort of sandhich should I make...maybe something kinda simple? holy shit my best stacking yet! maybe a little messy but it WORKED and nothing fell off. Ham, cheese, cucumber, and apple, with butter and mayo.

Oh! Teeny is evolving! DACHSBUN. oh my gosh Teeny's been baked. Okay time to grab something else from the box...guess I'll grab that egg.

turns Pebbles loose on a bunch of wild pokemon....pebbles might stay on my team OH THERE'S FALINKS HERE. You'll be the Links. Just like that, "the Links".

i wonder if I could have a picnic atop a watchtower....probably not, right? ...I CAN. Okay this time we're having a veggie salad sammich. I am getting better at this! We have salt, pepper, olive oil, and vinegar, with tomatoes, pickles, onions, yellow peppers, basil, and watercress. I genuinely have no idea how to tell if the sandwich is good or not.

EGG HATCH it's a Fidough! I have a Fidough to give away now. I guess we'll put Tyse ont he team now.

Oh yeah, who to use against the upcoming Dark base....hm. Pebbles, of course, and Jupe. Fidget would be good but she's so low level...well, the other two can probably carry, I don't think Sotero saw a lot of the action last time....still, might see how much candy I have to feed the bug. ....One M candy gets her to level 21, that ought to do it.

uh oh....odd behavior?

clive you're not maintaining your ruse very well. man and we do NOT trust cassiopeia, huh?

--GIANT FUCKOFF BIRD im catching you this time! Pachetti, right? FUCK nearly muscle memory killed it again but this bird is damn good at dodging. this fucker is breaking out of ultra balls. FINALLY. Fuck you, birdie, fuck you.

Okay! Dark base time! ....console battery low, always at the fucking worst time.

okay NOW it's Dark Base time!

Wait, Giacomo runs the whole team? So why'm I facing him so early? The fuck's going on? He's apparently strategic.... But like, Mela wasn't as boisterously angry as I was led to believe, so I don't know what to expect. And, I don't trust Cassiopeia.

Okay we got Pebbles, Jupe, and Fidget lined up, let's FIGHT. Barrage done!

awwww i love Giacomo already! he does at least seem pretty unruffled, as i was told. but not terribly calm. He put me to sleep??? Not for loooong~ Oh buddy your strat is slipping.

Giacomo down! And once again, sort of a...subdued reaction. ...Giacomo used to be student council president? And...everyone hated him...he doesn't strike me as all that stuffy, so...what happened? And who is this big boss? ...They all love and trust him...he changed from his student council days....hmmm. What is going on here?

frowny noises

Waiting on a friend, who they aren't sure will be coming back, and that seems to be the big boss.... Something is going on here. Something sad.

The big boss hasn't been heard from in a year and a half, around when they formed the code....a code to lead the team in their stead, maybe? because they knew they'd be gone? and talking about disbanding the team...

oh NO....the boss and the team are the treasure....the real treasure was the friends they made along the way...

Is Cassiopeia the big boss? Ensuring Team Star gets taken down?

AWWW Koraidon likes Penny!

penny pls be my friend

Penny knows what they've been telling me... Team Star is Class E. Team Star is the dregs. Team Star is the ones who slipped through the cracks. This plotline is going to tear my heart from my chest and throw it into the depths of the sea.

Penny is a hacker, could Penny be Cassiopeia? Could Penny be the Big Boss?

TOWN. Cascarrafa!

They have....Cyclizar charging stations??? That's a thing you need? The Pokemon Center isn't enough???? OH that's an elevator

aaaaa shopping for new shit

pulls a yellow black stake out of the ground...

ACK triggered an event outside the Gym I thought nothing would happen til I went in...oh I need to take him his wallet.

Oh I have to go all the way to another town for this test? Okay!

Oh I thought I could safely go in but there's more plot in here. Hi Hassel!

WHO IS THIS HOLY SHIT. Her name is Rika and I'll bet she has half the population of Paldea in dire straits. By which I mean probably everyone playing this game is in love, has gender envy, or both.

the NPCs are saying Kofu's gym test is super hard but I think i get to deliver his wallet instead...

god i love the fashion items here......my money isn't unlimited though....we are gonna save, close, and reopen real quick to shoo off a glitch. Nothing gamebreaking, just mildly annoying.

exploooooring....i got up to a cool point i should use that to retake my trainer photos. Once the sandstorms die down a little.

And then my brother called and I talked to him for two hours instead of playing! Sunday's my early day at work so I had better wind down for the evening. We'll tackle the desert and the gym (hopefully) next time, and hopefully get a couple more goals squared away too!