#she literally can’t stand because she’s lost so much blood

[writingbylee]

Wolffe the first time Lyra injures herself and does nothing about it.

at all times Wolffe is like this

(this picture of tem was such perfect wolffe I had to edit it. I simply had to)

[teapartyprincess4two]

Y/n and Matt get closer when it's just them 2 in the house, and i was thinking Fluff and Smut like a lot of Smut. Maybe Matt is a virgin but Y/n aint so she teaches him???

End of the World- M. Sturniolo

pairing: fem!reader x Matt

classification: Zombie Apocalypse AU, smut, fluff, angst/sad (kinda? Idk it’s a mix of everything)

inspiration: request^^

warnings: 18+, MDNI, set in modern day, use of y/n, literal sex, slight cursing, zombies & general apocalypse stuff (death, lnives, guns, killing, blood, hunger, dehydration, etc.), kinda long

summary: No one deserves to die a virgin, not even at the end of the world.

—

If anyone would’ve told you two years ago that you’d be huddled around the hood of a car, staring down at a worn out map, covered in blood, you would’ve called them crazy.

Two years ago your life was convenient. Now? Now life was simple, all you had to do was survive. All the things you wished would disappear; homework, bills, work, none of them mattered anymore. But they were easily replaced with an even greater burden, a zombie apocalypse and the end of the world.

Two years ago you wouldn’t have had even a spec of dirt under your fingernails, yet here you stand covered in blood that isn’t yours, weeks worth of dirt and grime, and sweat dripping down your forehead. Your hair is pulled back into a ponytail, exposing your shoulders to the harsh Texas heat and further working towards dehydrating you.

Two years ago you wouldn’t so much as hurt a fly. Now you wouldn’t think twice before pulling the trigger if it meant you had a chance at survival.

Two years ago you didn’t have to worry about where your next meal was coming from or if your bedroom was secure enough to sleep in. But the world has changed and so have you.

It’s been months since anyone in your group has had a good nights rest or a warm meal. All you’ve done is run from anything that threatens to harm you. Although you’ve all managed to set up a temporary moderately safe camp within the woods, it’s been difficult to stretch resources that are already scarce.

Food, water, clothing. These are all things that you wish you didn’t need. Why? Because leaving camp to retrieve them is dangerous. But, it’s been 2 days since your last run, and canned goods can only last so long, especially when there’s mouths to feed.

Chris uses his knife to point to an unmarked location on the map, “Nick and I will head south. I saw an old water tower in that direction when we passed through, maybe there’s a town nearby.” He uses the back of his arm to wipe the sweat from his forehead before returning it back to the map, tracing the blade up a road.

“Matt and Y/n, you two try looking in this area. We haven’t checked there yet and if we’re lucky it hasn’t been completely ransacked. You might find something…” Chris pauses, taking a look at the group of people not far behind. They’re chatting, all of them wearing exhausted expression and filthy clothes. “…something to get the group through the next couple of days. We can’t stay here anymore, place is crawling with infected.”

Chris became the leader of your group easily. He had a great way of talking to people, of showing them that even though the world was ending, the glass was still half full.

“You want us to split up?” Nick whisper shouts, a clear alarm evident in his tone. “Remember what happened last time? We lost a third of the group!” Nick flails his arms in desperation, almost like he’s willing Chris to realize the stupidity of his actions.

Nick was reasonable and smart, but too kind for his own good. If he wanted to, he could’ve become the leader of your group and done just as good of a job as Chris, but Nick was too empathic to take on that responsibility. He felt the needs of the group and often was led more by emotion than by reason or logic.

“You think I don’t know that?!” Chris bites back.

You stand next to Matt, watching the argument unfold. This was typical for Nick and Chris, but it stressed you out every time.

“If we had more people, we wouldn’t have to split up. But we’re low on supplies and can’t wait around for food to magically appear,” Chris says.

“If we hadn’t split up the first time, we’d have more people,” Nick snarks, storming away. Chris groans, running his hand through his hair. This was much more responsibility than he could handle, but as the youngest, strongest members of your group it was up to you all to pull the heaviest weight.

“We’ll be fine. Y/n and I are always careful,” Matt finally chimes in, placing a firm hand on Chris’s shoulder to ease any tension. “Besides, that part of town is pretty deep into the woods. I doubt any infected will be lurking and if they are, Y/n’s good with a gun and I’m fast.”

“I’m fast too,” you chuckle, knowing that Matt is trying to make light of a dark situation.

“True. I just gotta be faster,” he replies, sending you a cheeky wink. You laugh, earning a small round of laughter from Chris and Matt in return.

Chris visibly relaxes, grateful that at least one of his brothers isn’t giving him a hard time. But truth be told, Matt didn’t agree with Chris’s plan, he was just smart enough to keep it to himself. He knew that doubt created fear, and once fear infected you, you were as good as dead.

That’s what Matt was good at, being quiet. It came in handy on runs like this, especially because he was so quick on his feet. It’s your favorite characteristic of his, he’s a good listener, he’s observant, and you know that you’ll be safe as long as Matt is with you.

“Alright. Let’s head out, we’re gonna lose the light,” Chris instructs, jogging in the opposite direction of the camp to begin loading up a few trucks with guns and ammo.

“You two can take the car.”

Matt mulls the idea over. A car would be faster, but definitely much louder. Noise attracts anything looking for its next meal, especially the infected, and with only you to cover him he’s not sure he’s willing to take that risk.

“Nah. We’re walking. The town’s not too far, we’ll make it back by tomorrow morning the latest,” Matt replies, tossing a rifle in your direction. You’re quick to catch it and just as quick to respond, “Are you sure? A car would get us there and back before dinner.”

He understands your concern, but he can’t risk losing you, not after all the losses he’s already suffered. “Just trust me,” he murmurs, the look in his eyes being enough to calm your nerves.

“Whatever you have to do, Matt. Just come back,” Chris says, slamming the trunk shut.

—

Leaves and dry grass crunch under your feet with every step. It’s late summer and the Texas heat has managed to kill everything left alive that wasn’t infected.

You’ve been walking for two hours, only running into a few infected on the way, managing to take them out with nothing but your blade. Matt hates using guns, in fact you’ve only seen him use them on very rare and necessary occasions. You never understood his apprehension, I mean it’s the end of the world for Christ’s sake, but you’ve never questioned him.

“Heads up,” Matt whispers, nodding his head in the direction of a gas station.

You follow his gaze. It seemed like an easy place to loot. Apart from the few rotted corpses that roamed the exterior, only parked cars litter the parking lot, most of them still connected to the gas pumps.

“We’ll go in through the back. There’s got to be dry storage there,” Matt says, crouching and leading you towards the back of the building. You hum in response, readying yourself with your weapon and following closely behind.

Your scent must carry because as soon as you’re within 10 feet of the infected, their attention is drawn to you. Their arms are limp at their sides and their walk is more of a stagger, but it always manages to get your blood pumping.

“Hurry!” Matt whisper shouts, reaching behind him for your hand. Soon he’s pulling you into the building, shutting it securely behind you and bringing his pointer finger up to his lips to instruct you to keep quiet.

“I’ll go left. You go right,” you mouth, beginning to walk the aisles of the store while ensuring to keep your back to the wall. Matt nods, perusing the aisles as best he can while his life is in immediate danger.

Infected bite and claw at the glass windows, snarling as they watch you and Matt like prey. Sometimes you wondered what their life was like before they were bit, but the second one is close enough to harm you, all sympathy leaves and you don’t think twice before unloading the clip.

When you’re sure the building is secure you put your knife away and grab a shopping basket, securing it in the pit of your elbow as you load it with as many supplies as you can. Chips, jerky, candy, canned food, oil, rags, water, any and everything you two can carry is being thrown into these baskets.

“How are gonna get all of this back?” You ask Matt, noticing the even greater pile he’s accumulated. He scratches his head, taking a look around for something that’ll help lighten the load.

From the corner of his eye he spots a few duffel bags. Matt grabs a few and motions for you to begin packing them with as much as possible. “If they get too heavy I’ll carry them.”

“Bet you wish we had a car now,” you chuckle, neatly organizing the duffel bags.

“Not when those things are staring back at me,” Matt says, shuddering as he looks behind his shoulder to see the group of infected that have pooled at the entrance of the building.

—

You’re carrying two duffel bags full of supplies, one weighing on either one of your shoulders. Matt’s holding three, two rest on his shoulders and he’s carrying the other in his hand. He holds the straps so tight that his knuckles have managed to turn white.

The both of you are exhausted from the strength you’re using to carry this supplies back to your camp, from the long trek up-hill, and the energy you exerted to take out at least a dozen infected.

You stumble on a rock, the weight on your shoulders making it difficult for you to fix your footing. “Hey, you okay?” Matt asks, examining you with his eyes.

“I’m fine. Just tired,” you wheeze, hunching over and supporting yourself with your hands on your knees.

Matt’s tired too, of course he is, but it’s not like you two can set up camp in the middle of nowhere while surrounded by infected. He remembers seeing a few houses further up the road, it’s not a long walk and if you can make it, you’ll be able to rest there until morning.

“C’mon I think I saw a neighborhood, just push through a little longer. We’ll rest there for tonight and pick back up in the morning, okay?”

He waits for you to catch your breath, rubbing your back and comforting you, but never once letting his guard down in case something gets a jump on him.

You take a deep breath, straightening up and adjusting the duffel bag’s straps on your shoulders.

“Okay.”

—

The walk to the neighborhood was much longer than you thought, and you were starting to wonder if you were lost.

“Are you sure this is the right way?”

Matt looks at you from behind his shoulder, subtly rolling his eyes before averting his gaze forward again. “You wanna lead the way, princess?”

The nickname makes you chuckle, mostly because you knew Matt used it when his mood was starting to sour and that only ever happened when he was hungry or tired. By the looks of it, he was starting to become both.

A small town comes into view just as you’re about to reply. It looks like you’ve stumbled across the Main Street, and as packed as it is with abandoned businesses and stores, a residential home is nowhere to be seen. “Didn’t I tell you I saw a town,” Matt snarks, a hint of sass laced in his tone.

You hum. “No. You said you saw a neighborhood. There isn’t a house anywhere to be seen. We might as well season ourselves for the damn infected to eat.”

A twig snaps in the distance. Your voices, although relatively quiet, have already worked towards alerting the undead of your presence.

“Shut up,” Matt grits, pulling you close to his body. You know better than to argue, instead pressing your back against his and unsheathing your knife.

Snarling and growling echoes through the town, bouncing off the buildings and making it difficult for you to pinpoint exactly what direction they’re coming from. That doesn’t stop Matt though, instead he uses the hand that isn’t holding a knife to grab your arm.

“Stay close,” he mouths, so inaudible that you almost don’t catch it. You nod your head, taking a fleeting look at your surroundings before following Matt through a back alley between a cafe and a gym (or what used to be a cafe and a gym).

The alley is a dead end, fenced off at the end with nothing but hungry zombies reaching through the metal rods in attempt to grab you. The old you would’ve screamed and cried for help, but you’ve learned to suppress your fear in order to survive.

You take a firm hold of your knife, stabbing it into the head of as many infected as you can. Quiet grunts emit from you and Matt as you clear the path, watching undead body after body hit the ground. For a second you feel sad, but only for a second. You don’t have time for trivial things such as emotions anymore, especially not when a trail of flesh eating monsters follows closely behind.

“Through here. C’mon,” Matt ushers, opening a door that leads into a gym. Although it’s safer than being stranded outside, the brick walls can only protect you for so long. You do a quick sweep of the room, looking for anything useful while also ensuring there aren’t any hidden surprises.

Once you’re sure it’s safe, you motion for Matt to follow you with a head tilt. He locks the door behind him, barricading it with an old elliptical before following you into the next room.

You enter a changing room, lined with showers and lockers that were sure to have at least one fresh pair of clothes. You set the heavy bags you’ve been carrying down, sighing with relief as you stretch your shoulders. Matt does the same, joining you in rummaging through the lockers for a new, clean shirt.

A lot of the clothes is tucked away in backpacks, most of it being unflattering male clothing, but you weren’t big on fashion nowadays. “Here. Found this for you,” Matt says, tossing a white tank top your way. You hold it up in the light, “Cute. Thanks.”

You’re about to change your shirt, without any real warning for Matt, so he quickly looks away and fixes his gaze on the shower heads and tiled walls. His hands fiddled with an unopened bar of soap he found in one of the lockers. Matt doesn’t know why he grabbed it, it’s not like he had access to running water, but a man could dream.

“I wonder if the showers work,” he thinks out loud.

You stand behind him, wearing only your bra and underwear as you wonder the same thing. God knows you could both use a shower right now. “Hmm,” you hum, tilting your head in wonder.

“Only one way to find out,” you shrug, pushing past Matt and sauntering over to the knob. You twist it quickly, patiently waiting for even a single drop of water.

Nothing, just groaning pipes and a slap in the face for naivety.

“Guess they don’t,” you say, standing under the shower head and looking at Matt with a sad smile. He chuckles, and just as he’s about to give up too, hot water spurts out abruptly, hitting the back of your head and running down your spine.

“Holy shit that’s hot!” You gasp. In all the excitement, Matt forgets how inappropriate it would be to join you in the shower under regular circumstances, and throws his clothes off. You’ve somehow already managed to remove your remaining clothing and have started scrubbing at your skin with your bare hands, letting the water run down your face.

“Matt! Hurry before it runs out!” You say, waving your hand behind you blindly. He doesn’t skip a beat, joining you under the shower head and letting it relax his sore, aching muscles. The water draws an audible groan from his lips, bringing you back to reality. You were naked and taking a shower with Matt, someone who was a stranger to you before the end of the world.

Suddenly, he remembers the bar of soap still in his hands and he accidentally takes in your naked figure as he opens it. His dick immediately rises, a clear indicator that he’s enjoying the view.

“Turn around,” he instructs, running the soap under the water and lathering his hands up. You do as your told, immediately feeling his fingers tangle themselves in your hair as he massages your scalp. It wasn’t necessarily an in depth hair wash routine, but it would suffice for now.

Soon, you’re turning around and rinsing the soap from your hair before reaching for the bar and instructing Matt to do the same.

“Here lemme get you now.” You shuffle behind him, tip toeing to reach better. Although it was odd and unexpected, you were glad to be sharing this moment with Matt.

The rest of the shower is silent as you and Matt bask in the warm water that runs down your bruised and battered bodies. You try keeping your limbs to yourselves, save for the brief moments Matt’s erect member brushes against your thigh or butt, but it’s hard when there’s only one shower head. You want to say something, mostly because you’ve had a crush on Matt from the moment you met him and his group, but you don’t. This isn’t about pleasure, not in this world at least. It’s about survival and the second you forget that, you get hurt.

“Haven’t felt that clean in years,” Matt chuckles, shoving a shirt over his head. The shower seems to have brought his spirits up, providing both of you with a new surge of energy. Little things like running water meant so much more now, especially when you’re trudging through highly forested areas and fighting for you life on the daily.

As you’re about to reply, a loud bang echoes through the locker room, followed by the sound of shuffling in your direction. You’re putting your pants on, buckling them quickly as you try to keep quiet. Your eyes are wide in fear and anticipation, watching Matt for a signal on what to do next.

He doesn’t say anything, instead grabbing the duffel bags from before and darting his eyes towards the exit. Your gun, which you hadn’t used at all today, rests in your hand. Matt holds his as well. He’s on guard, raising the weapon close to his face as he inspects the area.

You follow behind him trying to keep as quiet as possible, fully expecting him to shoot whatever lurks behind the wall. But, as you near the exit, you see it.

Tense shoulders relax, lowering your weapon and sheathing it back into your belt. A squirrel sits on the cement floor, grooming itself and chittering away. You want to approach it, maybe even pet it, but Matt stops you with a hand to your chest.

Unlike you, he’d inspected the entirety of the situation and didn’t let himself become distracted by the first cute animal that crossed his path. After recognizing that it was a squirrel, he wondered what could’ve lead it into the building in the first place, causing him to check the window it entered through. A reanimated corpse stood right outside the window, dragging its feet as it paced back and forth in search of the fluffy animal.

“Let’s go. We’re done here,” Matt ordered, pulling you back towards the exit. And just like that, you were off to find somewhere to sleep, leaving the fluffy animal to fend for itself.

“Bye little guy.”

—

“Forgot how quiet and boring the world is,” you huff, slumping down onto the worn out mattress. Whatever energy the shower provided you was now long gone. You and Matt walked for another hour before finding the initial neighborhood you were searching for. And, after that, you spent another hour finding the perfect house and clearing all its rooms.

“Quiet’s nice,” Matt replies with a soft groan, joining you on the mattress. It sinks with his weight, the coils creaking as he becomes comfortable.

“You’re just saying that cause you want me to shut up so you can fall asleep.” You kick your shoes off and unbuckle your belt, letting it fall to floor with a soft thud. A smile tugs at Matt’s lips. “Right now yes. But in general, quiet’s good. Means we’re safe,” he replies, toeing his own shoes off.

Matt shuts his eyes, fluffing the pillow under his head and willing himself to finally get a full nights rest. This house is safe. He secured all the rooms, barricaded the doors, and his weapon is on standby. He can finally rest and relax. But, of course, your mind begins to wander and when your mind wanders, your words follow. “Guess you’re right… But quiet also means you’re not learning anything about the people you care about.”

A deep breath causes Matt’s chest to rise and fall. He doesn’t understand why you’re trying to be all philosophical at the end of the world. Nonetheless, he responds, “I know you, Y/n. I know you’re strong, I know you’re a kind person, and I know you have my back. I also know you’re annoying, but I trust you and I learned all that from watching. Sometimes you just have to watch people. In quiet. Can we sleep now?” He turns onto his side facing away from you in hopes that you’ll drop the topic and fall asleep.

You stare at his back. “Those are all things you learned about me now. I was nothing like this back then.”

Matt takes another deep breath. It’s obvious you’re in the mood to talk, maybe because you finally feel safe enough to keep your voice anything above a whisper, so he decides just to give in and turn your monologue into actual dialogue.

“Back then?” He asks. Matt shuffles on the mattress, now staring at the ceiling as your eyes remain on him. “Yeah, before everything went to shit. Before the end of the stupid fucking world when the little things used to matter. You know, like first kisses and picking the perfect outfit for a date with a cute guy.”

Matt picks at his fingernails, listening to every word that escapes your lips. When you put it that way, he really didn’t know anything about you. “Okay, so tell me about yourself then. Pretend like we’re not in a strangers house, in a strangers room, on a strangers bed, and tell me all about Y/n… Before the ‘end of the stupid fucking world.’”

You chuckle, preparing yourself for the vulnerability you’re about to put on full display, but now that he’s put you on the spot it’s much harder than you thought.

“Okay so… you already know my name. Hmm. My favorite color is pink?”

Matt scoffs. “That’s the real you? C’mon, you can’t go on this whole tangent about how you were different before and then say THAT.”

“Fine fine.” You think for a second. “I was a waitress at a hotel bar. Mixing drinks was easy, the customers were nice, my coworkers made the job tolerable. Mostly only worked weekends because I was at school during the week… I went to UCLA. Go Bruins!,” you let out a breathy laugh, “My siblings were going to visit me that weekend, the weekend it all happened. They had planned the trip for a long time and finally were gonna make the drive.”

Your mind goes to a dark place, the only thing anchoring you being the hand that Matt places on yours. You clear your throat before continuing, “I had a small off campus apartment. Cleared the living room out and everything for them. Even deep cleaned.” Matt squeezes your hand.

“College was fun while it lasted. My parents worked really hard to send me off. They threw me a going away party and everything, even dressed up my dog as the school mascot,” a small pause as you recollect your thoughts, “I had a puppy named Pig. Well he wasn’t a puppy, more like an old fart, but the name suited him. Named him after my favorite animal and because he had the pinkest nose when he first adopted him.”

You feel yourself becoming increasingly sad as you reminisce on what once was. “You know what? Maybe quiet is nice,” you laugh solemnly, wiping the tears that are rolling down your face.

Matt offers you a warm smile, thinking of something, anything, to get you to smile again. But he can’t help it, he’s curious, and since you’re already on the topic he wants to pry further into your personal life. “What were you going to school for?”

“Engineering. I’m shit with numbers, but I was pretty undecided so my parents just chose for me. Brandon would help me a lot. He was really smart… really sweet… But enough about me, tell me about you. Who was Matt before all this?”

Matt ignores your question, instead posing one of his own. “Who’s Brandon? Was he your boyfriend?” He cringes slightly, both at his boldness and at his lack of awareness of your vulernable, emotional state, but his curiosity keeps getting the best of him.

You snort. “Brandon? God no. He was my best friend, sure, but I was definitely not his type. Plus, I never had time for anything serious. I made time for the fun stuff, but never the commitment.” Matt couldn’t hide the relief on his face even he tried. A relationship status meant nothing during a zombie apocalypse, yet he found himself relieved to know that your heart didn’t belong to another.

“I’m sure you had girls swarming you,” you continue jokingly, poking Matt’s sides with a teasing edge. He makes a noise, something between a groan and chuckle as he runs his hands down his face.

“I take that as a yes?”

He hums, remembering the short lived internet fame he shared with his triplet brothers before shit hit the fan. “Some would say that. If you consider subscribers and followers as swarming girls.”

You visibly cringe, “Oh God. Were you one of those thirst trappers? Bet you went to influencer parties and vlogged your morning routine.” Matt laughs loudly, a genuine laugh, one of the few you’ve heard from him since you met.

“Rent was due, okay?” He replies between laughter. Soon you’re both laughing, bodies clumsily bumping as you clutch your stomach and wipe away tears. Your bodies are impossibly close, closer than they should be on a queen sized mattress, and you only notice it once your laughter dies down.

Your eyes have locked with his and your noses even manage to graze. Neither of you make an effort to look away or even to apologize for invading the other’s space. Instead, you do the unthinkable, the one thing you didn’t allow yourself to even think about doing even when he was naked in front of you earlier. You kiss him. You lean forward and close the gap, moulding your lips onto his.

Matt doesn’t hesitate to reciprocate the kiss. His hands find a comfortable resting place on your upper thigh and lower back, using the little energy left in his body to pull you closer. One of your hands lays on his chest while the other gently weaves its way through his hair.

The kiss is sweet and innocent, and it could’ve been over by now, but because you’re both so touch starved you separate for air and dive right back in. You moan against his lips, caressing the side of his face your thumb before moving so you’re cradling his waist. Subconsciously, as if on instinct, you grind down onto him, wanting to feel and explore him further.

Matt wants to go further, and he knows you know it too, especially with the display he put on earlier in the shower, but he’s a virgin who’s afraid to disappoint. So, he pulls away from the kiss and holds your hips in place with strong hands.

“I— Give me a second,” he murmurs, squeezing his eyes shut and gulping so hard his adam’s apple bobs up and down. Matt’s mind is racing, every possible outcome for this situation playing through his mind.

You sense his apprehension, plus it’s written all over his face. You never want to push his boundaries or make him uncomfortable. So, you do the only thing you can think to do. Quickly, you shuffle off of him and off the bed. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have done that. I just thought— today in the shower— I’ll sleep downstairs on the couch.”

You begin to gather your things, leaving Matt dumbstruck as he stares between you and his raging erection. If he didn’t speak up now, you were going to get the wrong idea and he’d miss his chance at a shot with you. Your face is red hot with embarrassment.

“Wait.” He reaches out and grabs your hand, gently pulling you back down onto the mattress.

Matt prepares himself for the vulnerability he’s about to display. He’s nervous, embarrassed, scared, and to top it off you’re the hottest girl he’s ever seen. And it’s not just because you’re the only one left either.

“I’m a virgin.”

Your eyes blow open in shock. “But earlier you said about the? I just thought?” He laughs at your inability to form a coherent sentence, but he gets the gist.

“It was hard to trust people when I was famous, especially girls. I never knew if they truly liked me or just wanted to have my name associated with them for the clout. But it’s different now, I know I can trust you. We took a shower together without making it weird after scavenging through old worn out clothes to find something slightly newer than what we had. You’re covered in the blood of monsters we killed to keep each other safe. You’re here with me when I have nothing permanent or safe to offer.” Matt pulls you back onto his lap, sitting up against the bed frame so your torsos are parallel.

“I should’ve said this a long time ago, but it’s hard to find the time when you’re fighting for your life on the daily… I care about you, Y/n. A lot. I’m not sure what to call it yet, but I care about you and I trust you. I trust you enough to do this.” You’re touched by his words, feeling their effect on your heartstrings and your throbbing core.

“I trust you too, Matt. So much more than you’ll ever know.” In that moment those words felt more real than an ‘i love you’ ever could. Matt leans forwards and kisses you, holding you by the neck. This kiss is different than the one from before, it’s needier and laced with lust.

His hands travel towards your tank top, tugging until he successfully untucks the fabric. You pull away from the kiss and lift your arms, allowing Matt to remove your shirt in one swift motion. The smile on his face as you slowly begin roaming your hands all over his body is genuine, filled with admiration, love and lust.

Your fingers beginning slipping his flannel over his shoulders, your mouth falling down to his broad shoulders to pepper kisses on the skin there. Soon, you’re both removing the rest of your clothes and Matt’s excitement has him flipping you over on the old, worn mattress. He gawks at the sight beneath him. You lay there completely exposed with only the soft moonlight that trickles in through the blinds to illuminate your body. Matt takes it all in, relishing in your beauty like it’s the last time, because in this world it very well might be.

A gentle hand trails from his stomach down to his penis, tracing the outside of his cock and watching intently at the way Matt’s eyes screw shut in concentration. It’s been so long since he’s touched himself and the sight of you alone is enough for him to combust, but he pulls himself together. You trace your thumb over the slit, coating his member with the natural lubrication that’s already spilling out before dragging his cock along your folds. Matt’s breath hitches at the new sensation, you already feel so warm and soft, he doesn’t know how he’s meant to last even one second once he’s actually inside you.

“We can stop if you want to.” Matt gulps, shaking his head feverishly. He doesn’t want this to stop, he’d never want this to stop, even if it hasn’t even really started yet. “No,” his voice is choked, “don’t stop.”

Your lip is caught between your teeth as you continue to guide the tip to your entrance, finally unwrapping your fingers from around him and instead wrapping your legs around his waist. Finally, Matt moves, sinking his cock into you slowly until he’s completely bottomed out. The initial feeling is euphoric, so euphoric in fact that his arms wobble as he tried to keep himself from collapsing on you. You love seeing him like this. A strong man who’d do anything to protect you, so weak and vulnerable from your touch.

His head finds the place where your neck and shoulder meet, forehead resting in the divot there as he slowly begins thrusting. Soft grunts and groans brush against your skin, sending shivers up your spine. Praises fall from your own lips as his tip continues to kiss your cervix, egging him further in helping you reach your climax. But tonight was about him, as long as the man on top of you convulsed with pleasure you’d be happy.

Matt’s hips snap against yours, picking up the pace as he chases his orgasm. It’s so close, right on the edge, and from the way he sounds and feels you’re close too. “Keep going, Matt. Don’t stop,” you moan, pulling him in closer with your legs around his waist. Matt whimpers your name, sucking and biting on the skin of your neck harder with each passing thrust.

“I’m gonna cum,” he grunts, words choppy and interrupted by pants and moans. All you can do is whimper in return, snaking a hand between your bodies to rub your clit. As soon as your fingers touch the sensitive bundle of nerves, your body goes into overdrive. Your legs are shaking, pussy fluttering around his cock as you grip his shoulders and moan his name. The feeling of your walls pushing and pulling around him, mixed with the way you chant his name, pushes Matt over the edge. His hips tremble slightly as he spills his load inside of you, his inexperience making it to where he’s unable to pull out before the wave of pleasure washed over his body.

Your bodies remain intertwined for a while, both of you trying to catch your breath. Matt reluctantly pulls out of you, relishing in the way your body chases after him. The mattress dips as he slumps into the spot next to you.

“Thank you.”

You turn to face Matt, a confused look on your face. You’re not sure where this will lead your relationship, but you never expected a thank you after sex, nor had you ever received one.

“Thank you?” You chuckle, curious to where the conversation was heading.

He hums. “Yeah, for not letting me die a virgin.” You can’t help the snort that follows.

“Well in that case, I guess you’re welcome. No one deserves to die a virgin, not even at the end of the world.”

Matt smiles again, a sight you’ll never grow tired of. He leans in for a kiss, pulling you close and keeping you there. The kiss is sloppy, mostly because you’re both exhausted from the days events, but neither of you dare pull away. You don’t know what tomorrow will bring or if there will even be a tomorrow, all you know is that this moment right here is real and you’d like to enjoy it for as long as possible.

“Get some rest, we have a long trip tomorrow.”

—

MASTERLIST

A/n:

Thank you so much for this request my sweet anon. I’m currently rewatching (binging) TWD and needed to get some zombie apocalypse type story out of my system, so I hope you don’t mind that I used that idea on your request. Also, I know you requested for the reader to teach Matt and I didn’t include really any of that here. I focused on the whole Virgin!Matt aspect of it all. Hope you all enjoy, sorry for not writing a lot recently :P I’m deep in the trenches of Daryl Dixon fanfiction right now so if u need me, that’s where you’ll find me (if u can’t already tell by my reblogs lolol)

ps, I didn’t go to UCLA so if that’s not the mascot don’t kill me. A quick google search told me that much

luv u all xxx

- L.A.M.B 💗👼🏻

—

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[hazelfoureyes]

A Doe in Fall (part 7)

⟢HumanAlastor x FemaleBurlesquerReader - A Doe in Fall

Part 1 - Pretty in Red smut💦 Part 2 - Liar smut💦 Part 3 - A Tragedy smut💦 Part 4 - Enough Part 5 - Too Much Part 6 - Learning smut💦 Part 7 - Recognition smut💦 Part 8 - Trust sexual 🥵 Part 9 - Shiny Things Part 10 - Good Deeds Part 11 - Caught Part 12 - Eddie

Part 7 Recognition

It was time to start again. Alastor couldn't forget what his mother had wanted, even if she didn't ask it of him directly. And while he finds his comfort again in killing, Detective Brady finds a lead.

「Warnings/Promises: Human Alastor x Fem Burlesquer reader, smut, reader's thighs as ear muffs, referencing cruel racists in the early 20th century south, reference to marital violence, pussy eaten, p in v sex, no creampie BOO, bad dancing, Alastor's southern accent, Alastor's mother, gossip, murder, greed , two idiots pretending they aren't madly in love, poor family planning, lots of 1920's slang with notes for your ease」

I think I fixed the broken tag list!

....it's been over a month. Here's nearly 9000 words of our favorite idiots. I feel weird labeling this smut now as...we are...kinda past the smut point and just making sweet sweet love. lol ugh gross. thank you to everyone whose offered help, donated, and shared the word about my mom! It’s been an immense help and has made her a little emotional (in a good way) <Florida stole my moms teeth— explanation and donation link> unrelated, anyone want some RadioDust?

Minors…. Minors. My inbox counts as interacting when you’re literally in there requesting smut. I know your bio has no age but baby honey darling I can tell by your writing. 🔞 Do Not Interact 🏠🚗

A development he knew was coming even if no one else believed him. A drug addict with debts to the local crime syndicates disappearing was neither suspicious nor a mystery. Everyone was confident it was obvious Tommy was at the bottom of Lake Pontchartrain or halfway to California.

But not to him, not for Detective Brady. He had been on the beat for the better part of a year, convinced there was a connection between some of the disappearances in town.

No one wanted to hear it though, most people didn’t even care the people were missing. Only the occasional wife, concerned how she would keep a roof over her head and food in her kid’s bellies with the man of the house gone. But other than that, no tears or chest beating for the missing men and women.

Which made him confident there were countless more unreported cases. Just because no one missed them, a crime is a crime.

But, no bodies, no blood, no crime scenes… he looked like he had lost the fucking plot to his colleagues.

The city didn’t want the bad press, not to mention the fact there was no actual crime to be reported. Someone up and left down? Okay, he was a wife beater? Probably left with his mistress. The cruel den mother of the home for unwanted kids? Her assistant takes the lead and she moves onto a new town to menace. Probably running from the people angry with her.

But he finally had something. Tommy was pimping out dancers, and even laid hands on one. Surely there was a man looking for revenge for that. Can’t knock around a man’s woman and have it go unanswered.

So he tried again to find the woman whose only name he knew was a moniker. Autumn Hind.

Every time Brady came to the theater, another excuse. You left early. You were on the roof smoking—- oh, you slipped out the back. Weekends were your off days, so that was useless.

“You’re obsessed.” Detective Freeman threw an eraser he’d picked off his pencil at Brady. He had seen the man devolve slowly over the past couple months.

“Thanks.” Brady was staring at his notes.

“Not a compliment, Kenny. Shit happens, people leave town. You’re acting like a handful of no shows are some conspiracy.” Freeman came to stand behind Brady, leaning over to read his notes, “How can you even read that chicken scratch?”

He clapped the notebook shut, “Every report was a person less than liked. What are the chances they all leave town in the middle of the night, last seen in the same general area?”

Freeman patted his shoulder, “Did you just ask me why a bunch of assholes,” he stood up and made a show of stretching out tired muscles, “who liked illegal hooch* and jazz with plenty of enemies disappeared?” (*booze)

Brady slapped his desk, “There! You said it! They had enemies. But what— what if they had one enemy in common. A bar manager or — or a,” he was still looking for that link.

“Kenny, the boogeyman isn’t roaming New Orleans killing people. If the higher ups don’t care, if the families don’t care, it doesn’t matter. Let it go.”

The sleep deprived detective sunk into his wooden chair, swiveling side to side anxiously, “Tommy’s mother cares.”

“Yeah well mom’s are famously bad judges of character.” Slipping on his jacket, he shot a worried look to his partner, “Ya gonna go home? Janet’s probably a mess. You’ve been keeping late hours.”

“Nah not yet. I gotta get to the theater before this dame goes ghost on me again.”

“Yikes, still? You’ve been chasing her for a while.” He was making a slow inching walk to the door.

“It’d be easier if I had some support. I gotta do this on my own time.” A deep sigh, well past the point of hiding his frustration with his colleagues and bosses. Freeman looked over the wrinkled shirt and wilted tie, evidence of a man losing his grip.

“Welp, good luck buddy. Hope you get to the bottom of whatever this is.” He gestured at the messy desk and disheveled man, “See ya tomorrow.”

Brady waved without looking up. His eyes were staring into the black leather of his notepad. Tommy was the only recent assumed victim with any real suspicion. The woman whose husband disappeared after going to see a show? Only enemy to him was her, and she wasn’t strong enough to take him down. Deadend.

Most recent, nice young man from up north. Went out for a good time, hoping to catch a little lady for some stress relief, according to his coworkers. Never showed up at work the next day. No one had a bad word to say about the man. Making him an outlier, but still. He was young, strong, soft spoken. Not an enemy in sight but no family to worry, either. Deadend.

But Tommy. Someone cared he was gone. He was in the jazz game, the drug dens, the illegal drink business, and had a heavy hand. He was the perfect bad man, right?

He looked across his desk. Bad men. The occasional unsavory woman. Maybe it was just their time. They pissed off the wrong people.

Or the wrong person.

Someone who worked downtown, someone into dance and drink, someone with nights free to do his work. Maybe a hired gun? No, some of these people didn’t have the money for that.

Plus, one person and so many missing? That would be unheard of, it’d be some kind of record for Louisiana.

A record Brady could claim.

When he entered the theater James, the manager who replaced Tommy, noticeably rolled his eyes, getting in front of the man. “It’s real bad for business to have a cop in here all the damn time. Come on, if you’re not here for a raid then could you be a little less obvious.”

Brady looked past him, “What do you mean?”

“You’re— what is it? What can I do for you?”

“Here again for Miss Autumn. Care to give her real name yet?”

“No can do. Ain’t my business to tell. She’s finished her set, asked to head home early.” Brady turned and kicked a chair over, a large man approaching behind the manager before seeing the hip badge and backing up. “Nah we’re not doing that. We’ve told her you’ve come by but she’s a busy lady. Several gigs here and there. Enough, you’re harassing the dancers now.”

With a snap, Brady had his finger in the manager’s face, “Whatcha gonna do? Call the cops?”

“She. Isn’t. Here. What the fuck do you want? For me to tie her up and bring her to your station?”

That’d be ideal.

A month, nearly. Coming once or twice a week to try and speak to you but every time he missed you. He was going to snap if he heard one more time you were gone. Maybe everyone was in on it. Maybe you werenin the back right now laughing at him.

Brady scanned the room, “Where’s she live?”

“How the fuck would I know— please, leave.” James gestured to the doors.

He lifted his badge up, waving it at the patrons seated closest to him, “Yall know it’s still illegal to partake-,”

“Jesus! Enough!” The manager pushed him back, flashing an apologetic smile to the guests, “She moonlights Sundays at The Dime near the park on 5th, singing for a friend. That’s all I got about her life off stage. Will you fucking go?”

The detective perked up, “See, was that so hard?”

Finally, he could feel his fingers grasp the shifting shadow that was his only lead.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“I never said sorry.”

You turned your head, not expecting him to say something serious. Waiting, he didn’t add explanation. Sorry? What had he done… ran out of milk? Forgot to bring in the towels before it rained last week? A quick search of your memory yielded nothing.

“For what?”

He was staring off in front of him. “For putting you in danger before. In the park. I am sincerely sorry.”

You’d somehow almost forgotten. It’d been weeks. Every bad feeling that night had brought you had been carried away by good morning kisses and gentle words before sleep. Nearly every night was spent in his bed, Alastor dropping you off at your apartment when he went downtown for work. The incident in the park was a different lifetime already.

Had he really put you in danger? Or had you rushed into the danger of his hobby to feel closer to him?

“I put myself in that situation. You didn't throw me at that guy. I don’t do a damn thing I don’t want to do. You should have learned that by now.”

Tough act for a woman who jumped up to pour some man’s coffee.

You shook your head, you had to stop equating doting on Alastor as a show of weakness. It wasn’t. Even if admitting that meant admitting you were wrong.

But he had put you in danger’s way, he knew it. “No, you wouldn’t have ever been in that situation if it wasn’t for me.”

Your laughter bounced off the car windows, “Alastor, you met me getting choked to death by a strange man. People will always make dangerous situations for women to be in. Don’t act like you’re special.” A sly smile to ease his anxious heart. “I’d rather be in danger for you than just because I’m a woman. If it’s gonna happen anyway, might as well be worth something.”

His hand slipped onto your thigh, expression softening before his own smile grew again, “Don’t lie to my face so easily. I am very special, we can all agree.”

You looked around, the two of you alone in his car on a side street, “All? You know the trunk is still empty, right?”

“Oh, is that so? You’re quite dangerous yourself, I nearly forgot why we were here.” He patted his pockets to make sure he had what he needed. “When I give you a wave, back up to me, okay? Don’t leave the car. Just drive off if-,”

You kissed his cheek, “Shut it. Not a chance. Go give em hell, baby.”

Alastor crumpled against his steering wheel momentarily, your words cutting his heart open in a most wonderful way. He could never have predicted getting kisses before beginning his dark work. What had he done to deserve this? Perhaps proof someone in hell was in full support of his actions. Straightening his back and checking his hair and glasses in the mirror, he flashed you a smile before slipping out of the car.

When Alastor said he was ready to begin killing again, you were a mix of excited and scared. Excited for normalcy to return but scared of the dangers presented there in. You’d been dodging the blue eyed detective for a while already, and moving forward meant possibly making mistakes he could grab a hold of. Not mentioning the risk of someone hurting Alastor again…but for your part in everything, you and Alastor found a compromise.

A deal had been made. You’d stay in the car and bring it to him when he was done. He had asked you flee if something went wrong but you both knew that wasn’t going to happen. Crawling into the driver’s seat, you tried to remember what he had taught you. How to get it started up, how to make it go backwards. How to make it go, in general. You’d never driven a car. Well, not until Alastor insisted on teaching you. Driving up and down the long stretch of road he lived on, Alastor white knuckling the door handle as you jerked the car forward with every failed shift. You had started on his land, but he feared for his home's safety with you behind the wheel.

Your hands slipped down the steeling wheel, big and round. Your mother would’ve had a hoot had she seen you in the driver’s seat. Clearing your throat, you leaned into the back of the car and double checked the canvas was properly secured.

Another man tonight. The few times you’d both gone out for leisure, having preferred to spend time alone at home, Alastor had gotten gossip that piqued his interest.

You remembered the way the woman’s hand touched his arm when she leaned in. “You didn’t hear it from me but it’s best to avoid French Study on Thursdays. Real piece of work slipping something in drinks and robbing people.” He reported what she had said back to you. It’d panicked you, realizing you were closer to being on Alastor’s list than you’d realized.

“No, the issue isn’t the stealin’. It’s what he does with the people with,” he had been delicate as he said it, taking another long sip of whiskey, “other things of value. And the fact this man has no need to steal. It’s ridiculous! His family has been land ownin’ and well off for generations.” Alastor was always impassioned when discussing the things he hated, even when slipping into drunkenness. His accent came through when he had too much to drink, his real accent. The accent his mother had. “You robbed men for power balance, for their assumptions you were easy to manipulate to begin with. He? Uh, Him? He’s just a piece of shit. He thinks he’s better than everyone else. And no one would report him ‘cause his family name.”

His drink spilled a little, when you had offered to clean it he just slipped the button up off. He lost his usual classy air as the bottle emptied. Which you actually liked.

The benefits of drinking on his back porch was no need to worry about decorum. Music was softly spilling from the open window behind you, Alastor’s prized record cabinet spinning the newest presses.

“It’s like there’s a little bug under my skin,” he wiggled his fingers over his sternum, “It’s gonna dig into my bones if I don’t cut it out.”

Despite your own drunkenness, you nodded and followed along, “So, ya gonna kill ‘em?”

Alastor pouted, making you snort, “I don’t want to think about that right now.” He enunciated every word clearly in his practiced and professional voice.

You’d ended the evening playfully arguing the merits of prohibition on the jazz scene and watching Alastor dance around the wrap around porch. But the conversation hadn’t ended for him.

Little hints he was still focused on it popped up over the following week. Alastor randomly asking you how it felt to be drugged, did you wake up in pain? Embarrassed? Scared? You caught him staring at the greenhouse from the window one morning, lost in thought. Before he had finally said he wanted to go out again, you understanding what that meant, you’d seen him turning a dinner knife over and over in his hand impatiently.

And now here you were. In the car beside a park late Thursday, Alastor having done some scouting while you’d finished up early at the theater.

It took hours. Which was good, it meant Alastor wasn’t rushing. He liked the stalking aspect of killing, of watching someone from across a room knowing exactly how their night would end. And as that man whose name would soon be buried with him alternated smiling and barking orders at staff, Alastor felt his stomach flutter. Like watching a slab of meat slowly turn over the fire. The crueler he was, the worse he acted, the more Alastor found his fingers tapping on the bar with anticipation. Perfect. Damn yourself more. No fake smiles or double faces, no, people like him didn’t even try to play the game others were forced into. Born with money and land already theirs, they didn’t even know the rules.

But Alastor did. Alastor mastered them at the tender age of 14. When he realized his father’s features were a shield. His mother’s lessons on manners and charm his weapons. The first time he was in mixed company, when someone leaned in and whispered a cruel “prank” he had planned for a young dark skinned woman on the other side of the room, he understood. They pulled back and smiled at him, and he managed to muster one of his own. Just smile, they’d take it to mean whatever they wanted it to mean because they thought he was of the same mindset. They assumed it. Like so many other things people would assume about him as he grew.

When he told his mother the story after getting home, she shook her head. When he had asked her what he should have done, she set down her book.

“Well, I’d love to say you should have stood up for her. But I’d also like to have my son above ground.”

He asked her why she couldn’t have both.

“Sweetheart, we don’t usually get the choice to do either, let alone both.”

He offered a solution, after a moment of thinking, “I shoulda buried him first then.”

“Wouldn’t it be nice if that was how the world worked?” She returned to her book, “If God just struck em down dead as soon as they hurt people. Better yet, before.”

It would be nice. It was nice. Because Alastor couldn’t wait for God to make the world his mother mentioned. He grinned ear to ear, gloves a second skin, as the man crawled backwards in the grass like an animal cornered. His heart was pounding in his ears. Where to cut first? The gut, his family fat and soft from the money they made off the labor of others? The pale neck of a man who never spent a day outside, instead indoors drugging strangers for sport? The chest covered in a fine cotton shirt he didn’t appreciate?

He wished he had many arms, as many as he could imagine, to slash and tear in tandem.

“What do you want? Money?” the animal asked him.

Alastor shook his head no. No, he didn’t want money.

“Do you know who I am?”

Alastor nodded. “That is precisely why I am here.”

Would he beg? Cry? Bargain? Experience told him it’d be the latter.

“Alright well, if you know who I am you know you’re making a mistake. Here.” The man opened his wallet and pulled out a few greenbacks, holding them out for Alastor. Alastor’s smile softened slightly, remembering tossing you a wallet once before.

He reached down with his left hand to take the money, but instead grabbed the man’s wrist. Swiftly, quicker than the man could process, he took the knife tucked into his belt behind his vest and stabbed the man in the stomach.

Staring into his eyes, he could see his own image looking back at him. Smiling.

Alastor grabbed your face with both wrists, hands bloody and one still holding the knife, and kissed you when he’d flagged you down.

“Is this for bringing the car around without running you over?” Your eyes glanced at the knife beside your head. He apologized, tossing it into the trunk.

“No, just happy to see you.” A mischievous grin that made your knees weak, his body shimmied closer until he was pressed against you, stealing another kiss. His arms stretched out to keep from bloodying you. Your fingers slid up his cheeks to return the kiss. “Thank you, dear.”

When you returned home, to his home, that is, you took to task bringing in the laundry he’d left on the line and putting away the things still on the counters from breakfast. You couldn’t resist going to the second floor room and looking down into the greenhouse. You couldn’t see perfectly well, but you could see nonetheless. Alastor didn’t want you in the greenhouse yet when he was working. He said it was the ugliest parts, the kind that would sure give you nightmares or rob you of your appetite.

Considerate. But, it only made you more curious. Would you be sick if you saw? Would you never eat meat again?

What would you do if you didn’t have any reaction at all?

You watched Alastor leave the greenhouse and lock the door behind him, so you hopped down the stairs to meet him in the hall beside the kitchen.

He’d been sweating, shirt open to reveal a thin white undershirt, and under his arm was a canvas roll. He lifted it up, “Tools. Rinsed them off but I’d like to dry them under the electric lights.” You grabbed the aprons from the wall hooks, Alastor letting you slip it over his head and tie it for him. “Why so tight?”

“I like the way it makes your waist look.” You’d seen him wear it when making biscuits. It made his shape so clear. It reminded you of watching water drip down his sides and roll off his hips in the shower.

He beamed, “I’m listening. What exactly do you like about my waist?” Sharp brows raised as that friendly tongue peeked out at you.

“Hush.” You cooed.

You stood on the long side of the table, him at the short, and took turns wiping the tools dry and checking the other’s work.

As he grabbed each one he would tell you what he used it for. Holding up the garden shears and explaining the point along the blade that had the strongest force. The advantage of curved pruning blades when used on a human body. His eyes were gleaming as he spoke, looking so lovingly at each item like it was a loyal pet.

He finally noticed you were grinning and chuckling softly, so he dropped his smile for dramatic effect, “What? What’s so funny?”

Shaking your head, you set down the next item for him to inspect, “Nothing. You’re just so cute when you’re talking about your passions. Your face lights up from the inside out.”

His breath hitched, smile actually lost as he processed every syllable. Your turn now to notice him staring as you looked up from your work. You recognized that look though, the wide eyes and serious lips. The air of the kitchen felt like the atmosphere before a thunderstorm rolled in.

Alastor set the tools back onto the canvas one by one and carried them to the counter. Before returning he picked up a small knife and set it near the edge of the table.

“Come here.” He nodded his head to space in front of him. The way he said it, that tone, made your heart begin to skip beats.

You slid between him and the table, Alastor lifting you up with a startling ease and setting you onto cool wood. Kicking your legs a little, you set nervous hands onto your lap. You wanted to touch him. To pull him by the apron straps into you.

“How do you always say the right things?” He closed the distance between you, one hand on your neck while his mouth came to your ear. “The things I didn’t know I wanted to hear?”

Swimming. Your mind was swimming. “Why is your idea of right the same as my idea of the truth?” You could feel the grin. Sighing into your ear, down your neck, his hands grabbed your hips and pulled you off the table enough to press your core into his clothed erection. Even through his pants and the apron, you could feel him clearly. When did he get so hard? You always wondered in those moments if it was the topic of discussion. Or the knives. Or your need. Biting your lip wasn’t a thought out action, but Alastor loved to see it. Rolling his hips into you in response.

“Wanna go upstairs?” you asked.

He shook his head, slipping off his glasses.

“Oh no, don’t even wanna see me?” You teased, but firm hands held you tighter to him in response.

“I won’t be letting you get far enough away from me for that to be a problem.”

When he leaned down and his lips so very gently pressed into yours, you could feel it. That missing something from before. It was in the air, it was rolling off of his body and dampening your senses. A desire, a drive that you felt that first time you had sex with him in that apartment above the theater. A motivation that was lacking last time in his bed.

His eyes were staring down into yours, waiting for your response. Eagerly you replied by chasing his mouth with yours. A chain of kisses as you tried to ever remember enjoying kissing another person as much as him.

Not a single soul. Why did it feel like this was all you ever needed? Eyes closed and lips on lips, hands in his hair, it felt like you’d been holding your breath all of your life. His body on yours was a gasp of air.

For Alastor, he couldn’t even think of breathing when around you. Let alone when your mouth was on him. Every time you touched him all he could think about was the word ‘affection’.

So when your tongue swiped up his lips, he moaned as he opened for you. Not because he was new to kissing someone with so much lust. He’d grown accustomed to the things you did to him. No, because you were a fever that had taken hold of him and your kiss the medicine that soothed his delirium.

He wondered, was that why people called it ‘love sick’?

“You really like me, don’t you?” He asked, nose sliding up your jaw.

An opportunity presented to you. A chance to spill over the edges.

You pushed it away, legs wrapping around his waist and pulling him closer.

“Something like that, yeah.”

His hands pressed flat against the table to balance the deep roll of his hips against you. One of your own fell behind you to keep from falling backwards, the other flung over his shoulder. When you moaned into his cheek he captured the sound with his mouth and slipped his tongue back into you.

You liked him. He’d known people to love and not like their partner an ounce, but the way you appreciated his quirks made his heart sing in its brittle cage. You never ceased to see him. The issue with always putting on a show is people tend to be disappointed when the actors become human again. But you never met his persona. He was knife wielding, bloodlusting Alastor from the first word. So when he was himself, you recognized him clearly. Because he was all you ever knew.

And you liked him

You appreciated him.

He dared to think maybe he could inspire more from you. A thought that made him twitch below the belt.

Closer. He needed you closer. He needed you so near to him that he’d never forget the feeling of being wanted. It’d be imprinted on his chest and his arms and his lips.

Impatient hands slipping up your sides, along your neck, down your chest. His greedy mouth suddenly understanding the same greed he once marveled at in your own kisses. Hot tongue sliding over yours, delving deeper into you with every return.

When his hands seemed to come to an agreement, they yanked you forward again. You’d fall off ass-first if he pulled you any further.

You watched with only slight horror has he grabbed the small knife and hiked up your dress in tandem. A gulp, worried the other shoe had finally dropped on a too-good situation.

“Are you particularly attached to these panties?” His eyes were looking up and over his glasses.

“No?” Did you really need panties, you wondered. Ever? Girdles we’re falling out of fashion perhaps you’d all be naked again soon enough. Maybe you two could start another Eden. A pomegranate’s juice the new red staining his skin.

Not even a tremble, his hands lifted each side and sliced them free.

“Oh?” You didn’t have a real question in mind when he tucked the panties into his back pocket. Just a need to express you saw it and didn’t understand it.

Alastor took your hand and pressed it against his hardened length, eyes locked onto yours with a sharpness to them. But when your hand took hold of him and squeezed, everything softened in his features. Funny how where one area grew stiff another melted.

He rolled his eyes closed as you finally undid his belt and pants. A struggle you didn’t see, Alastor trying to keep from pouncing on you like a horny virgin. He didn’t want to rut into you, he didn’t need the pleasure. He needed something he couldn’t see or explain. He just knew you held it behind your teeth.

When your skin pressed into his and you both moaned together he was sure you were the same. One person, split into insufficient parts. Finally lined up flush in place.

When you circled your hips against his aching cock, he wondered what you were chasing after. Was it the pleasure? He’d give it to you in spades.

He was on his knees with his face between your legs before you could close your thighs in surprise.

You needed both hands now to keep from falling back onto the table. “Alastor,” a whine.

He knew better than to talk with his mouth full, so he let two fingers work their way into you with shallow thrusts. Easing you open for him.

“Yes?” His eyes didn’t leave his fingers, glistening under the kitchen light. You hadn't thought much ahead past his name, once his fingers were in you and curling up to find your spongy and soft bundle of nerves your mind had gone empty.

“We can just fuck, if you’re horny.” You watched him watching himself.

“Where’s the fun in that?” His mouth returned to your mound, broad tongue forming a point and finding your clit.

A lazy moving tongue would be frustrating if not for his fingers punishing your g-spot. Consistency was key, and his hand was focused and skilled.

Suddenly you remembered the piano in the sitting room. That’s where you knew that movement from. That clearly practiced muscle memory.

Alastor felt confident everywhere but rarely did he feel comfortable. When your thighs came together and squeezed him at the ears, he felt positively cozy. Would you be so kind as to be his ear muffs come winter? He’d have to remember to ask when his mouth was free. How many cold nights he could now rest assured he would have warmth just a little dive of his head away.

Lowering his mouth, nose buried in your muff, he wriggled his tongue in with his fingers. Not enough, rarely was anything enough any more. He stilled his hand and prodded at your sensitive walls with that intrusive tongue, relishing the little movements you made in response. Taking his digits out entirely, he buried his wet muscle as deeply as he could reach.

The huffs of exhales you were making triggered a moan from him that you felt through your skin. His enjoyment was tripling your pleasure.

Goosebumps ran up your arms at the combine sensations of his moaning and prodding.

When his lips and tongue returned to their uneven teasing of your clit, three fingers now swiping past your inner spot with every thrust, your hands came to his head. Fingers slipping through his hair and gripping every time your body shook. Encouragement, the more you tugged the surer he was he was doing the right things.

And oh, he was. You said the right things but Alastor always seemed to act on them. Your senses lodged themselves between the even stroking of your g-spot and the unpredictable movements of his tongue. One kept the pressure rising as your orgasm climbed, the other pushed you along jolt by jolt.

Curious thing. That night in the park he didn’t have much reaction to your enjoyment, but he found himself not fully softening in his lap as he continued. Normally, unless still physically stimulated or the rare time you stirred something in him, he wasn’t very… battle ready.

But the feeling of you pulling him in by the head, fingers in his hair and thighs at his cheeks; this was different than the others. He was sure now it wasn’t just physical pleasure you wanted. His pride said it was more.

Dozens of times before— he truly was a rake in some aspects, though admittedly it was all in the pursuit of avoiding “sex”, as defined by most, not chasing it — he helped a date find release with his tongue. But it never did anything for him. They moaned and said his name and screamed. Which was lovely. Who doesn’t enjoy recognition?

When you said his name, it was heavier. It was material, it had mass and as its gravity began its pull he found his mind circling that sound. He was pleasing his darling, not placating. And it made him react in that unusually crass way.

He felt like an apex predator when killing, tearing open animals made for him to hunt. But you made him feel baser. Prey in your gentle bite.

As your orgasm mounted, you began tugging at his hair to pull him off. You didn’t need him to stop, but everything was suddenly too sensitive. It was alarming to feel your body rocking from overstimulation. A strident cry filled the kitchen as your back arched off the table. He didn’t let up, despite how much you thrashed under his mouth. Rolling pleasure, muscles electrified and shaking beyond your control.

You patted his head harshly, “Good, I’m good. Alas—tor! Fuck!”

Ah, he loved when you swore. It punctuated your otherwise preternatural aura with a touch of humanity.

He stood and leaned over your now reclining body. Your pussy still clenching and legs shaking as he admired his work. You admired his shape in his apron, his broad shoulders and sharp eyes. Caught between your legs like a lion in a mouse trap; he acted like he had no way free of you. His grin widened and he made a display out of licking each finger clean. Eyes never leaving yours.

You knew many men to squawk at going down on a woman. To balk at wearing an apron. To grimace at the suggestion of cooking a meal while their lady took a nice bath or enjoyed a coffee. Alastor seemed to not think twice about any of it. How nice it would be. To have a partner beside you, to not be the woman in the often referenced “behind every great man is a great woman.”

“Alastor, I want you.” You pulled him down by the neck and stole a kiss. When he began to stroke himself fully back to life you pressed that hand to his chest. “Not like that. Though I’m not declining the offer.”

His eyes saw something in yours. “Sweetheart, you have me. There is no part of me that isn’t possessed by you. I know we keep things relatively… tightlipped for safety but I’m your fella and you’re my gal.” His nose touched yours. “But if you want more, I’ll become more. I’ll break myself apart and make myself better.”

Your heart sank. Sitting up to command a little authority, a feat given you were sitting panty-less on a kitchen table, “Don’t you dare. I’ll always meet you where you are, got it? Don’t go… groping around in the darkness for me; trying to find what I need. I’ll always come to you. Because you’re more than enough as you are.”

A little cough to clear his tightening throat, “I’ve not had a day of darkness since you arrived.” A kiss to your forehead before a soft thumbpad wiped at the corner of your eye. “Did I make you sad?”

You wanted to say it. But not now, not like this. You didn’t want Alastor to connect love and sex. To think one was necessary for the other.

While you were coming to learn how lovely it was to pair the two together, it was a fact they were wholly independent things. And you couldn’t allow him to think they were a set.

“You’ve made me too happy. It’s absolutely terrifying.”

But Alastor had found your expressions of acceptance always tumbled the circle of Love to overlap with that of Sex. It was only in that mixed space did he find desire in pleasure.

A wicked smirk, “Let me pile on my affections and drown out your fears.” His hips rolled into you again, a surprising eagerness returned to his lap. “Can I continue?”

With a nod and a smile, “But not another word of change, buster.” You leaned back on your hand for support. Alastor was happy to return to your heat, lining up and sinking into you. An embrace like no other, one he found particularly earnest when with you.

Close. Finally. You began where he ended, a natural extension of who he was and who he could be. The things he could have. A relieved sigh he didn’t try to hide before he began moving, a moment when his tension could melt. You were both an unseasonably warm autumn day and the cool comforting shade of an unfamiliar tree. Both the heat and the relief.

He watched your body rock against the table, even fully dressed you managed to look more scandalous than any show he’d seen downtown. He was grateful he didn’t seek this comfort often in others, the way his mind melted made him feel vulnerable. He couldn’t think straight. And then you began to make those lovely little groans, high pitched and needy, and he was sure his soul was errant.

As his thrusts deepened, cock no longer kissing your cervix but ramming into you with good intentions, you dropped back as you lost the battle against his hips.

Alastor’s arms slid up our waist and pulled your arms towards him, “Too far, I can’t see your face.”

Your arms were slung over his shoulders as your back curved for him, “You don’t need to see my face.”

“Tsk, wrong.”

Your new favorite place was right in front of him, wherever his line of sight was you wanted to be in it. Nose to nose, heads tilting to recapture soft lips and softer moans.

Until the softness left, Alastor’s skin slapping against yours as he dragged those lovely sounds from you. He watched your eyes roll closed, mouth open as you moaned with the safety of the seclusion of a country home. A thought bubbled up, inspired by you.

“I want the neighbors to hear you.” That smile half cocked across his upsettingly handsome face. His hand slipped between you both to repeat the motions he learned before. Hard and fast, no choice but to raise your voice.

Your head fell back, clit still sensitive, “You don’t have neighbors!” A new moan hitting the walls.

“I do— just a few miles down the road, dear.” His mouth latched onto your neck but he didn’t suck like he wanted, he couldn’t bite. Your skin was your job, your body not his to mark. Suddenly he remembered, “Do you still have that make up? For your bruises?”

You couldn’t understand why he would bring that up while balls deep in you but you nodded.

“Would it work on your neck?” He nipped lightly.

It clicked, “Absolutely.”

You felt like a teenager again. When his tongue swiped over your soft flesh before he began to suck on the skin there you could feel the heat rising off your chest. You could feel him everywhere, and with the knowledge he wanted to hear you, you tossed your shame out of the kitchen window and relaxed into the pleasure.

As he moved up your neck he left little marks behind. There was no sense left you didn’t occupy. He could smell the soap and sweat of your skin, taste your cunt still on his tongue, your sights and sounds a decadence he couldn’t get used to. And the feeling of you… velvety walls, a feeling finer than silk as he slipped in and out of you. So incredibly hot on his most sensitive areas, pulling him back in with admirable strength.

He felt his orgasm ratcheting up but tried to hold back. He wanted more time to experience your ecstasy, to wallow in your openness. Even pressed skin to skin now wouldn’t satisfy that deep desire for this unique level of intimacy. So he wanted to enjoy it for as long as he had it.

But, he knew he should prepare. “I don’t want to dirty your dress.” A lust heavy voice penetrating the nap of your neck. He’d made a risky release before at your urging, something he often thought about when work got quiet. But he knew he needed to think clearer now.

“Then don’t.” A terrible reply but you wanted all of him, every drop of his hunger for you. “Keep the mess in me.”

“My dear,” he slowed his hips, autopilot keeping them moving at all, “I don’t think now is the time for,” you tightened around him to trip him up, which worked spectacularly. Alastor had take several seconds before continuing, “talks on family planning.”

A pang of nausea and fear, small and sharp in your abdomen. It wasn’t that you weren’t aware of biology, just that Alastor brought out your baser animal instincts, too. And before, when he came buried as deeply as he could reach, it felt like you’d actually completed some ritual. Bears hibernated, birds migrated, Alastor came in you.

You’d never let a man do that before Alastor. “I just want to… accept everything you are willing to give me.”

He bit his bottom lip to redirect some attention away from his now throbbing member, “And when you’re sure on me, I’ll always provide.”

A pout that he kissed, you accepted the terms. An argument could be made you were already very sure, but you were well aware how naive that sounded when you’d known each other for so little time. Had a coworker told you she’d met a guy and within three months was ready for… the consequences, you’d have laughed and asked if she was drunk or just stupid.

Alastor wanted to provide. But he knew you’d be the one with the raw end of the deal, he couldn’t risk coercing a decision in the heat of the moment. If your mind was half was addled as his with pleasure then you were in no state for big decisions.

Life changing decisions.

Decisions that filled empty homes.

Fuck, why wasn’t he a less considerate man?

When his kiss deepened, so did his ministrations. He was fully sheathed and so unwilling to draw back more than a couple inches you wondered if he had changed his mind. It felt like a man not wanting to stray too far from home. One hand on the small of your back, his other other on the back of your neck. When he pulled out he pressed his tongue further, only stopping the kiss when he came onto the little space of table between your thighs. Soft and swollen lips parted as his breaths ran ragged. A smile spread across your face as you watched his eyes open, witnessing a pleasured blow out of his pupils.

When he grabbed a kitchen towel and cleaned the table, you chuckled at his grimace. “See? My way is cleaner.”

He didn’t reply at first, taking the cloth and hovering over the sink before tossing it into his trash. “Only in the short term. We can finish up tomorrow with the tools?”

Your legs kicked again, not ready to slide off, “Mm, it’ll be easier in the daylight.”

“Instead,” he zipped his pants but removed the belt and set it on the counter, “Let’s get zozzled* and sway around the sitting room? Crash where we land.” (*drunk)

“I’ll pour if you get the music on.”

He turned to leave but paused, “No, I’ll handle the drinks. You always have too heavy of a hand.”

“I didn’t hear you complaining last time…”

“I’m not sure I remembered I was at home and not at a drum* last time…,” He uncorked the label-less whiskey, grabbing two glasses with one hand. “Didn’t wanna insult the pretty waitress.” (*speakeasy)

Fair. You weren’t much for drinking and always underestimated the strength of illegal hooch. Some were weak and some could kill you. But fancy Alastor had connections with the kind of people no one dared to risk harm to, so he always had the most trustworthy goods.

Good music, great whiskey, and even better company. You thanked him for being safe while working, he praised your ability to learn new skills so quickly. After a few drinks he pushed the coffee table against the wall and you drunkenly swayed around the room to something playing smooth and low. As much as you enjoyed your conversations, having your head tucked under his chin as neither of you said a word somehow filled in the little cracks of your heart more so than any talk. For him too. No tension after sex, no stress of how long he’d get to breathe before the next instance of prodding to do it again. He could smile and close his eyes and feel the room swing and sway in total safety.

A safety neither of you knew was being threatened from afar.

When you woke, Alastor was gone. A note on the table letting you know he’d run out to grab some things for breakfast. Telling you to relax and recover.

You put the furniture back, bringing the glasses to the kitchen and his belt to the bedroom.

Coffee and a slow perusal of his home. Intimate details you tried to not stare at when he was there. The rare photo of his mother, a woman you didn’t speak about, a conversation you didn’t need to have, but someone you knew existed fondly still in his life. A silent thank you to her.

No photos of a man to give thanks to you so you turned to the little curios and mementos. 

Little seashells and sand dollars, a small gator’s skull. Books, about anatomy and history. Novels about crime and love and mystery. Ticket stubs for films he’d seen. Little bits of his mother scattered in. A woman’s necklace. A chatelaine* with all of the accessories and tools. (*wikipedia page)

When you felt you’d spied enough, you crawled into his side of the bed and inhaled as deeply as you could. His pillow smelled like him. You let yourself sleep off the hangover surrounded by pieces of Alastor.

Pieces you couldn’t contain. Pieces left around town as a dick* hunted for his personal monster. (*a detective, but also, a dick, fuck this dude?)

Beth, or Betty as you called her, the friend you often sang for, was cleaning up from the previous night when Brady walked in. She tried to tell him they were closed, but he took a seat at the counter anyway.

“I’m looking for a singer named Autumn. She been around lately?”

She paused, knowing the name was tied to your work. This man didn’t know you. “Whose asking?”

“The city of New Orleans”, he set his badge on the counter top.

“Is she in some kinda trouble?”

“She the kinda dame to get into trouble?”

Beth laughed, “She doesn’t try to but men, liquor, and jazz tend to make it happen. She’s okay, right?”

He took a deep sigh, trying to blink away the exhaustion and remember he needed to be someone strangers trusted. Being honest hadn’t been working and being rough barely got him a lead. “Well I was hoping you’d know. Found out someone roughed her up a bit ago and just wanting to make sure she’s okay. But I don’t have her legal name, no address, nothing to track her down.”

Shaking her head, she leaned onto the counter, “What? Some egg* forget it’s just a show?” Brady shrugged. “I can’t say. She hasn’t been by in a couple weeks.” (*man)

He asked why. Feeling the deadend approaching.

“She was just doing me a favor. Once she got a guy she didn’t have much time.”

Fighting the urge to slam his fists against the wood and sling his notebook across the bar, Brady took slow breaths. Jaw clenched as he grabbed his pencil, “That is wonderful news. Hopefully a fit guy who can… keep her safe.”

Beth laughed a little, “I don’t know about that. He’s kind of a daisy*, but real kind.” (*a non-masculine man)

“Could I get a name? Or her address? Wanna follow up. See for myself that she’s doing well.”

She tapped the bar with two fingers and winked, “Ah no can do. Flatfoot* or not, I don’t tell men where to find sleeping ladies. But her fella is in radio though. I recognized his voice right away. Popular too, really ritzy air about him.” (*cop, detective)

As he left, he slapped the notebook against his palm over and over. When he stopped to take a second to congratulate himself something caught his eye. Across the street was a park he knew well. Following the block and turning, he could see the white and green awning of the cafe he’d seen you at before.

Had he been there? He hadn’t questioned why you were alone on such a nice day. But maybe you weren’t. Maybe you’d been playing him from the start.

Enough games.

When you took the stage that evening, a Friday show with a promising crowd, you felt like solid gold. Alastor would be there to pick you up in a few hours, you had every need met. And now you had the adoration of strangers to pump up your chest.

Until you passed your come-hither eyes over the crowd and a striking ocean blue pair knocked the wind out of you.

James was standing behind Brady, mouthing an apology. You missed a beat in your routine but forced your smile back. It took a second, to slide back into the actress you were when away from Alastor. Every time it got harder and harder to fall back into that role but you managed. His eyes never left your face, and you thanked God your heaving chest could be seen as fatigue and not the sheer panic that had taken ahold of your body.

When you were on the other side of the curtain you considered rushing out the side door, into the alley and down the street. But you couldn’t. You’d successfully brushed him off for so long but now that he had seen you, had made it clear he was there for you, you couldn’t flee. Innocent people don’t hide from cops.

Feet dragging, you saw some of the dancers standing around the dressing room door. “He’s out of his gourd if he thinks I’m changing with him in there.” One said loud enough to ensure Brady heard. When you entered the room he was sitting at your make up table, legs spread and your shoes in his hands.

“There she is!” standing, he extended the shoes to you, “Don’t stare like a deer in the lights. I’m sure you knew I was coming. Slip these on, we’re going for a ride.” He gave them a shake, “You can call your mac* from the station and let him know you’ll be late.” (*man)

˖  ݁𖥔.Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult.𖥔 ݁ ˖

@cxrsedwxrlds , @nonetheartist , @tsunaki , @janchei ,  @moonmark98 , @hoebihoeshi , @pansexual-opera-house , @polytheatrix , @lorddiabigmommymilkers , @backinthefkingbuildingagain , @harley2223-blog  , @poinappel l , @midnightnoiserose , @spookieroz , @missmidorima a , @ivebeenthearchersstuff , @downbadforfictionalppl , @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx , @sleepylittledemon , @aether-th3-enby , @dontfuckbutimfab , @breathlessaura , @aperfectidiot , @certainlygay , @jth12 , @star-kujo-platinum @ivebeenthearchersstuff , @rubyninja1 , @simphornies

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[hauntedjellyfishwitch-blog]

First off your writing is incredible. I was in literal tears reading your Daryl fic.

But I thought I'd send in a request, a jealous Daryl. Doesnt have to be established reader, pretty easy. I just like it when he's all riled up. 😂 Please and thank you

Jealousy

Summary: He could have just told her, couldn’t he? That would have been simple. He’d had to yell at her instead though, because Daryl can never do things the usual way round. Hand down her skirt and about to run away for the second time really was more his style.

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader (No use of Y/N)

TW: Nervous!Daryl. Angst. Fluff. Friends to lovers. Alexandria era. Vague, very short smut.

A/N: Thank you for this request and the beautiful compliment! I may have rushed the editing a little so if you notice any errors please tell me!

It’s not that she’s been avoiding him, it’s the complete opposite, she’s absolutely, inarguably, infuriatingly normal. He’s clawing at the walls of his own brain and she’s acting as if everything is fine. Maybe it is, he thinks, maybe she’s over it, maybe she’s been over it since the second he screwed it up and he’s the only one still hanging on to whatever it was in the first place. He can’t even claim he’s hanging on to much, they’d barely even kissed and it was months ago, but he hadn’t exactly been good at this kind of thing before the world threw a damn apocalypse into the mix.

He’d loved her since the moment he’d heard her laugh. He’d found her in a cabin in the woods on a run, just after Woodbury had fallen, back when the prison was still strong. He didn’t want to bring her back, one more mouth to feed, one more person to keep an eye on, but she’d saved him from a rogue walker he hadn’t seen coming, shrugged like it was nothing, like she’d have done it for anyone. She’d offered him food and water, a rundown but relatively safe place to lay low for a few hours, she was kind. The words were tumbling from his lips before he’d really thought about them.

He’d avoided her for a good while, despite her efforts to befriend him, he’d lost so much already he didn’t want to let her in. But then he’d said something sarcastic, something snappy and prissy and she’d laughed; an honest to goodness belly laugh that had her head throwing back and him smiling from the side of his mouth despite himself and something deep in his chest felt warm.

So he’d loved her, quietly and from a distance. Safe. Until she’d kissed him.

He watches as she laughs, the same laugh, big and warm and real. It’s not aimed at him, and he hates it. After he’d run away from her, he worried he wouldn’t hear it again, but he’d been wrong, and this was worse. He taps his fingers against his thigh, trying to keep a scowl from his face. Failing. He thinks steam would come out of his ears if it were within the realm of possibility.

He’s always too late. Always takes too long to get comfortable. Always spends so long waiting that he misses out on the thing he wanted, and she’s not a thing but his blood is fucking boiling. At the man she’s talking to, at himself, at her too if he’s a little honest.

The man, who’s name he doesn’t know and now never wants to, is handsome. If you’re into that suburban, well groomed, boring kind of thing. He has a punchable face. Daryl is not allowed to punch people unless its necessary anymore, Rick has told him that explicitly but surely flirting with his…flirting with the woman he’s in lo…flirting with her makes it necessary.

He can’t stand the thought that he might not be the last person to kiss her lips. He can’t stand looking any longer, but he doesn’t mean for his knife to clatter loudly on the floor as he tries to flee. He doesn’t dare turn around, but he’d be able to tell she was looking at him even in pitch black. Knows she’s watching the solid, tense set of his shoulders as he retreats.

-

She startles at the sight of him sitting on her porch, quickly schooling her face into the nonchalance she’s been practicing around him since they arrived. It was easy enough, on the road, to pretend he hadn’t hurt her. They were so busy trying to survive, so busy being busy that she could avoid an inevitable conversation where she’d had to apologise for getting their wires crossed.

But since they’ve been behind the walls of Alexandria? She can’t stop herself from searching him out, finding excuses to be near him, trying to act like they were back at the prison. Friends. She can do friends. She has been absolutely nailing being just friends, as long as she can ignore the tightness in her chest and the way she feels like she’s going to cry every time she walks away. Friends.

She flips the knife in her hand with ease, shielding his hand from the blade as she passes it back to him. He nods his thanks as he squints up at her.

“What crawled up your ass tonight?” She asks, but there’s a teasing smile on her face as leans against the railing to her house. The porch light is dim, warm golden yellow illuminating them. Daryl hasn’t been one for a lot of words in a long time, but he intends to bat the question away, distract her with something funny, something acerbic but good natured. Friendly, he can do friendly. He can’t, could barely do it on the road after everything happened. Now though, when she’s showered and brushed her hair and dressed up, lit up by a damn porch light? He doesn’t stand a chance.

“Dun’ kiss him”

“What the fuck?”

Fists clenching to calm himself down, unfurling them when he feels more grounded, he looks up at her again, daring to lock his eyes onto hers.

“Ya like him…tha’ guy?” He tries to keep his voice steady, hopes she doesn’t understand he’s begging her to say no, begging for her to give him a chance, but how many can one man have?

“Why are you asking me this?”

“Dun’ kiss him, please” He asks again, with a shake of his head, knocking his hair in front of his eyes as the ground in front of him becomes the most interesting thing he’s ever seen. She sighs quietly, but the sound reverberates in his brain, he can hear the disappointment that weighs it down, the disappointment he’d hoped to avoid by avoiding talking about this thing between them entirely.

“I’m not having this conversation with you on the porch” She pushes herself off the railing, turning to open the front floor. She means for him to leave but he follows her inside, tapping his fingers nervously against his thigh as he closes the door behind him. Every part of his body is telling him to run.

“I know I ain’t got no right t’ ask”

“No, you don’t. Why are you asking?”

“‘cause I can’t stand it”

“Why do you care?”

“’cause ya shouldn’t be wit’ him!”

“Who should I be with then, Daryl? Huh?” He doesn’t respond, not that she expects him to, head hanging low toward the ground “You have no answer, because it’s not you, is it? You didn’t want me!”

“I didn’t-what?”

He’d tried to make it obvious, had given her extra food, had nudged her shoulder with his, had talked to her more than anyone else. But she’d tried to kiss him and he’d fled, had retreated safely back into the comfort of his walls. Then he’d come back. He’d kissed her and again he’d fled. Daryl Dixon is the human embodiment of emotional whiplash. He knows he’s not easy, but he thought at least he’d been clear, he can’t imagine the way he looks at her has ever been subtle.

“I did want ya”

Her mind thinks over the weeks he’s been standoffish, the time he’s spent avoiding her touches, thinks back the first week they’d arrived here and he’s barely spoken a word, all the while watching her with an intensity that would have been uncomfortable if she hadn’t wanted his attention.

“I can’t do this, you can’t play with my head because you’re jealous all of a sudden”

“Ain’t jealous” He argues, knowing they both know he’s lying, but he still, even now, won’t let himself be vulnerable. “I know I fucked up, ‘kay? I know, but I’m ‘ere now!”

He snarls, frustrated and bordering on vicious, practically diving towards her as his hands grip her hips tight enough to bruise. He smashes his lips against hers, unpractised and clumsily before his brain catches up and he goes to pull away. Her response is so fast he doesn’t get a chance, dragging him back in as his brain shuts down.

The kiss is hard, angry and fast, all hip bones pressing into hip bones and teeth clacking against teeth. It’s not the romantic, affectionate start she was hoping for. It’s not the gentle steady and slow he was. She’s angry, he is too she can feel it in his body as he presses it against her.

The room spins, air thick and foggy with months’ worth of frustration, tension so thick it could be cut, it’s only when he swallows a heady, deep moan from her that he realises he needs more. Tongue sweeping into her mouth he grips the fabric of her skirt in his hand, bunching it up until he can reach an insistent, rough calloused hand inside her underwear, ripping his lips away from hers to heave a breath in. She’s soaked, dripping around his fingers and he’ll have time to be absolutely fucking floored by that when he recounts this later. His forehead sticks to hers as she moans.

It’s not that he hasn’t had trysts before, it’s just that they were short and unimportant, he’s barely been confident enough to use his hands. He wants to touch her in the right way, wants to know what he’s doing but she’s snaking a hand into his trousers and wrapping her fingers around his cock so thinking isn’t the top of his priorities right now.

It feels incredible, and in the vague recess of his brain he thinks he should have done this at a pace he'd be more comfortable with but he hasn’t done this in years, and barely successfully then so its not long before he comes all over her hand, whining as his head dips down to pant heavily against her collarbone. His fingers still, embarrassed and suddenly full of crippling self-doubt. She knows he’s going to remove them about a second before he does.

A thud echoes through the suddenly too big room as she tips her head back to hit the wall behind her.

“You leaving?” She lets out an incredulous laugh, hurt, betrayed, surprisingly unsurprised. The zip on his trousers seems louder than anything she’d yelled at him less than an hour before. It feels like an eternity before she lowers her head to look at him, doesn’t bother to mask the absolute disappointment on her features.

“I-uh-yeah-I”

She can practically see the walls slamming back up around him, the walls she’s been watching for weeks. A tear rolls down her cheek as he turns away from her, heading towards the front door.

“You don’t get another chance with me, Daryl” the finality in her voice makes him pause, hand on the doorknob. She sighs, hating that she’s about to give him the grace she is “You need to make up your mind, because I’m not waiting for you, not again. If you’re not certain by tomorrow you need to leave me alone”

The shaky nod from him is so small its almost imperceptible.

-

She’s not expecting the knock on her door as soon as the sun is up, really she isn’t. The whole night has been sleepless and filled to the brim with dread, knowing for sure that he wants her but fully believing he will never be able to let himself have her. She isn’t unaware of Daryl’s tendency to self-destruct. Maybe this is it, she thinks, maybe he values her enough as a friend if nothing else, to tell her face to face, but he’d never been able to before and the tiniest hint of hope lights her up as she treads carefully down the stairs.

Daryl stands there with a small, nervous but hopeful smile on his face. The hope hasn’t missed him, either. He doesn’t know what he’s doing, so out of his depth he might as well be drowning, but the knowledge that she wants this too means he’d rather fumble his way through this with her than do well without her.

“I’m a’ idiot”

“Yes you are” She laughs, setting him alight on the inside. The laugh that started al of this, almost. Doubt underneath her voice is the thing that finally settles it for him, makes him pull her towards him, gentle this time, the way he’d wanted. He’ll never let her doubt his feelings even when he doubts himself.

“I always wanted ya” he murmurs against her lips before closing the distance.

“You’re not going to run away again?”

“Ain’t runnin’, ain’t ever runnin’ again”

[jowrites]

At Her Mercy - Lee Heeseung

TW: FLUFF. SMUT. Heeseung is obsessed. SMUT. oral(f recieving) squirting, missionary, sex talk, kisisng, groping, hickeys, uhm yeah? unprotected sex. Enjoy!

Deep cut. If there was one way to describe her it would be a deep cut. She was like a deep cut on his skin that stung and never seemed to get better. No matter how many bandages you would put on it, it would still be deep and leave a pretty scar. He didn’t mind, he wouldn’t even try to heal it or fix it. He wanted all of it: the blood, the pain, he wanted it all. Because if it meant she stayed and never left, he would gladly take it.

Heeseung doesn’t remember when he started liking her. He remembers seeing her walk by and he could smell her perfume, it was sweet unlike anything he’s smelled before. It wasn’t like candy, it was more like he was being transported into a fairytale. When he turned around and watched her waltz off, greeting her friend who embraced her, he could see just how beautiful she was. It made sense for her aroma to compliment her features the way it did. And since then, he would steal every glance he could her way and admire her very being. Everyone knew about his obsession with her. He was the Captain of the Basketball team after all, and everyone else was dying for his attention yet he always seemed to be staring at somebody else. And she wouldn’t give him the time of day. 

“Did you hear about YN?” His best friend, Jake, came up to him.

“No? What about her?” He asked.

“She broke up with her boyfriend.”

Oh. 

This was actually the first time he heard she had a boyfriend. So that explains it. Why she never faltered or gave him the time of day when he just craved her attention. She had someone else she was wasting her time on. Heeseung chuckled to himself, in disbelief that someone would be dumb enough to fumble someone like her. Jake has heard him rant about his liking towards YN, just how perfect she was. Jake would just listen as his friend raved on and on about his crush, letting him fanboy and relish in his fantasies.

With this newfound information, Heeseung decided it was the perfect time to finally go for her. One thing about Heeseung, he never lost. And he never stopped, he never gave up, and he would never give up until he had her. 

****************

“Tell me why we’re going again? Don’t you have a book report due or something?” Sunoo said, unamused and bored as he laid on YN’s bed.

“I finished it,” YN said as she tossed some clothes onto the bed. 

“Ugh, nerd,” Sunoo said, rolling his eyes at his friend.

YN stood in her pink lace lingerie as she went through her wardrobe trying to find an outfit for a party they were invited to. Of course, she had to drag her best friend along despite his protests. He was not very thrilled to be tagging along, he much rather preferred to stay home and watch movies and eat as much food as he had access to. Parties weren’t his thing. 

“Fine, if we’re going I’m going to get super drunk and you can’t stop me!” Sunoo said, standing up and going across the hallway to his own room to change. YN smiled in victory, she knew Sunoo couldn’t say no to her, and as much as he hated parties, he liked drama and there was always drama at parties.

“Should I wear a bra or go braless?” YN yelled from her room.

“It depends on what you’re wearing, you can just wear your bra as a shirt and put your jean jacket on and jeans. It looks cute like that,” Sunoo said, coming out and quickly buttoning up his own shirt. “Yeah, definitely wear that, your tits look amazing.”

“You don’t think it’s too much? You can literally see my nipples,” YN said, looking at how the lace was so see through, her whole chest was on full display for the eyes to see.

“Only if people look close enough, which they definitely will but who cares? Boobs are great.”

YN shrugged and found some bell bottoms and buttoned them up, finishing the outfit with a jean jacket that matched the jeans. She already had her makeup and hair done, quickly touching up her lipgloss and grabbing her keys and phone.

“Are you ready? Let's go.”

***************

When YN and Sunoo got to the party, the party was already full of life. Music was blasting, people were going in and out, someone was already throwing up in the bushes by the porch. YN scanned the room, smiling at some of her friends who approached her and Sunoo, Sunoo quickly greeting them as they dragged the two to get some drinks. All eyes were on YN, girls digging their eyes at her in envy and men watching her like she was the best slack of meat they’ve ever seen. Heeseung immediately took note when his friends pointed her out. Not once were his eyes leaving her figure. 

“Don’t you ever get tired of it?” Her friend, Yena, asked as YN took her first shot.

“Tired of what?” YN asked.

“All the stares? I know it would make me uncomfortable,” Yena said.

“You just learn to ignore it,” YN shrugged her shoulders as she poured Sunoo a drink.

“Thank you, lovely,” Sunoo said, kissing her cheek. “She has me to scare off any predators.”

“No offense Sunoo, but you’re not very intimidating,” Yena said.

“Oh, no he is. Sunoo can be very terrifying,” YN defended. “He can rip you to shreds with his words, that’s scarier.”

“Don’t get on my bad side, sweetheart. I don’t play nice,” Sunoo winked and Yena chuckled and rolled her eyes.

“Whose bad side do I have to worry about?”

Yena’s eyes went wide as Sunoo and YN turned around at the noise. Heeseung stood behind them, coming up and invading YNs space as he grabbed a cup, towering over her and not once leaving eye contact.

“Oh great, another one,” Sunoo said, rolling his eyes and downing his drink. “Mind making me one, Captain?”

“Do you want me to make you one?” Heeseung asked YN, ignoring Sunoo as Sunoo rolled his eyes and scoffed.

“No but you can make Sunoo one,” YN said, grabbing Sunoo’s cup and handing it to Heeseung.

“Of course, love,” He said, his breath landing on her face filling her senses.

“I’m just gonna go…” Yena said, grabbing their friend Yeji and leaving the bar. Sunoo folded his arms over his chest and watched with a bored expression as Heeseung slowly made their drinks. Sunoo noticed as Heeseung kept glancing at YN, and it was embarrassing. YN was looking around the bar in search of her favorite beverage, letting out a “AHA!” When she found one, grabbing two white claws out of the mini fridge and opened one.  She took a straw from the table next to everything and began to sip on her drink in content.

“You prefer white claws over hard liquor?” Heeseung asked.

“I’m not much of a drinker,” She replied. 

“She’s not allowed unless we’re home,” Sunoo said as he took his drink from Heeseung, Heeseung glaring at him.

“She’s an adult, she doesn’t need a babysitter,” Heeseung said in annoyance.

“Oh trust me, she does when she drinks. Let’s go, babe, I’m bored,” Sunoo said, eyeing Heeseung up and down and grabbing YNs hand and walking off. 

YN followed, giving a small wave to Heeseung but not giving him another glance. Heeseung’s jaw clenched, downing his drink and crushing the cup and walking the opposite direction. He walked back to his friends and sulked in the corner as he watched YN dance with Sunoo. He could see her chest on full display as she moved her body, swaying to the music. He could still smell her perfume from his spot in the corner as he watched her. 

Throughout the night, Sunoo became more and more drunk. He laughed with his friend, giving her small kisses on her face, and expressing his love and gratitude for her. YN would smile and just encourage him to drink water. She Loved her best friend and he was a fun drunk, but he was also a very touchy drunk and she didn’t want anyone getting the wrong idea. Heeseung was watching the scene all night, his jaw clenching all night every time Sunoo’s lips found YNs skin. Why couldn’t that be him?

YN decided it was time to go. She was barely able to hold up Sunoo in his state, wrapping an arm around him and trying to usher him out. Heeseung watched as Sunoo almost lost all balance and dragging YN down with him. He knew it was time to step in then.

“Do you need help?” Heeseung came up, grabbed Sunoo and YN looked up at him with sorry eyes.

“If you don’t mind? He’s a lot bigger than me,” YN said.

“Of course, I have a car,” He said.

“Are you sober enough to drive?” She asked.

“Oh trust me, Sunoo pretty much made me lose my vibe,” He said.

“Yeah, sorry about him, he gets really protective,” YN said.

“It’s okay, I’d be protective over you too if I could. Let’s get him to my car.”

YN nodded, helping Heeseung drag a very drunk Sunoo out of the house and down the road where Heeseung’s black Jeep was. After they helped Sunoo in the back, Heeseung opened the passenger door for YN, her body rubbing up on him as he helped her in. His eyes never once left her frame as she sat in. He rushed to the other side and leaned over, grabbing the seatbelt for her, his face inches from hers causing her to gasp. He slowly buckled her seatbelt for her, noticing as heat rushed on her cheeks. 

“You didn’t have to do that,” she whispered.

“I wanted to.”

YN was feeling conflict. She of course knew of Heeseung and his infatuation with her, but she never felt the need to act on it. She knew about heeseung and his reputation, and she didn’t want to be just one of his girls so she always kept to herself and minded her business. Even being in his car, taking in his scent and being in his presence like this had her mind screaming at her. She wasn’t anyone's toy to mess with. 

“Where should I take him?” Heeseung asked as he started the car.

“Oh, just back to our apartment,” YN said. “I’ll show you where, it’s not far from campus.”

Heeseung nodded, not realizing her and Sunoo lived together. I guess it made sense since they were best friends. He lived alone of course, his parents buying him his own place when he went off to University. He preferred it that way, having his privacy. He wondered if it bothered Sunoo hearing as her ex-boyfriend touched her behind doors. Just thinking about it made his knuckles go white as he squeezed the steering wheel. 

As Heeseung pulled up in front of their apartment, he parked and turned off the engine, quickly rushing out and opening the passenger door again for her. She thanked him and opened the back where Sunoo was passed out. YN sighed in defeat, shaking her head at the sight. Heeseung helped her grab Sunoo, both of them helping him out of the backseat and Heeseung holding most of his weight as YN tried to balance him. She gave his cheeks a few smacks, hoping it would sober him up enough to walk with them. It didn’t.

YN led Heeseung towards the elevators and together they managed to make it to her apartment and help Sunoo in his bed. YN shook her head at her friend, quickly tucking him in and leaving a water bottle on his night stand and bringing his bin closer to the side just in case he had issues in the middle of the night. When YN closed his door, she noticed Heeseung was still there, his arms folded over his chest as he stood in her kitchen, lost in thought.

“Thank you, Heeseung. You have no idea how much you made tonight easier for me,” YN said, giving him a smile. “Would you like some water before you leave?”

No, but I’d like you.

“No, no I’m fine, thank you,” Heeseung straightened up and smiled. 

“Okay well, I definitely owe you a coffee or something to repay you,” she said.

“How about you come to my game next Friday? I’d love for you to be there,” Heeseung suggested.

“Oh, next Friday?” YN rubbed her neck, thinking about how to get out of this.

“Come on, it won’t be so bad. Plus, you’ll get to see the star of the basketball team in action,” Heeseung winked, making a blush form on her face.

“Ah, and here I thought you weren’t going to be full of yourself,” YN teased.

“I have every reason to be, if you come you’d understand,” He said.

“Okay, I’ll try to make it. I don’t like basketball though, it’s boring,” YN said and Heeseung gasped, pretending to be hurt.

“I am completely offended,” He said as YN and him started walking down the hall to the door.

“I said what I said,” She stuck out her tongue and he laughed. 

“I’ll see you around, YN,” He said. “Also, don’t be a stranger, I don’t bite.”

*********************

The buzzer buzzed causing an uproar in the stands. Cheers began around her as she sat there looking at the score. Heeseung threw the last shot, making it into the hoop and winning the game. The game was over, 80-91 was the finishing score as her University team won. The cheers were loud, causing YN to flinch in annoyance, turning to her best friend who sat there annoyed and holding his fingers in his ears to cover out the noise. He gave her a glare and she just chuckled at him, pinching his cheeks and him attempting to bite her fingers. The whole time, Heeseung was watching her. The swelling in his chest is getting bigger and bigger. Throughout the game he couldn’t take his eyes off her. He watched her as she looked at him in amazement, watching the ball go from side to side. 

“Good shot, man! You did it!” One of his teammates said as Heeseung quickly waved them off, walking over to the side of where his crush was sitting. She looked at him and saw him just staring at her, waving her to come over to him. She shook her head, standing up and shrugging. He nodded for her to meet him on the sides and she sighed, nodding back. She waited for the crowds to scurry off as she grabbed Sunoo and brought him down to the court. Sunoo was the most annoyed he’s ever been. He hated basketball and couldn’t believe YN dragged him to one of the games, Heeseung’s to be exact.

“This is so fucking annoying,” Sunoo complained. 

Heeseung emerged from the side again, a towel around his neck as he finished wiping his sweat.

“You came, I’m glad you did,” Heeseung pulled YN in for a hug, catching her off guard.

“Ew! You’re so sweaty!” YN said, pushing him back a bit as Sunoo fake gagged.

“Disgusting,” Sunoo said. “Okay, you saw him, let’s go.”

“Wait, Sunoo don’t be so rude,” YN said, giving Sunoo a look as Sunoo just scoffed.

“Yeah, Sunoo, don’t be so rude,” Heeseung said, mocking Sunoo as Sunoo glared at him.

“Look, we all know your intentions here and I hate to be the bearer of bad news but YN is way too good for you,” Sunoo said.

“Sunoo!” YN said, scolding her friend and nudging him.

“What? It’s true. He’s trying to get in your pants and remember? You said you’d never-” Sunoo began to say just as YN shut him up with her hand.

“He hasn’t done anything to you, stop being so rude! He helped me last week with you so you should actually be thanking him,” YN said.

“Geez, just how much do you hate me?” Heeseung asked Sunoo, venom in his voice.

“Thank you for helping, now let’s go YN!” Sunoo said, grabbing his friend.

“No! Wait!” Heeseung said, grabbing her hand and pushing YN behind him. “I don’t know what I did to you but I’d like to talk to YN alone, please.”

“Sunoo, I think you should go,” YN said.

“I’m just looking out for you,” Sunoo said, hurt in his voice.

“I appreciate that but you’re being very mean and Heeseung hasn’t done anything to deserve that kind of attitude,” YN said. “If you can’t be nice then don’t say anything at all.”

“Fine, fine. Look, I’m sorry for being a dick,” Sunoo said, defeated.

“It’s all good, just can I have my moment with her now?” Heeseung asked and Sunoo sighed, looking between YN and heeseung. YN could see the worry in his eyes before nodding and backing off. 

“I’ll see you at home, okay? Call me, seriously call me if you need anything,” Sunoo said and YN nodded.

“I can handle myself, Sun. I’ll see you at home.”

Sunoo then walked off, taking one more glance as he left the court. He wanted to always protect YN from the big bad wolf, and he knew Heeseung was the baddest of them all. He has seen YN be hurt time and time again, having to be there to witness and watch her get hurt. He only wanted what was best for his best friend. He always managed to scare people away, even going so close as to starting rumors of them together to keep him at peace. He has no romantic feelings for her, but he would do what he could to keep the predators at bay. The way he heard people talk about her made him extremely uncomfortable, and even though she said it didn’t bother her, he knew it did. 

“I’m really, really sorry about him. I really was not expecting Sunoo to act like that,” YN apologized as Heeseung just laughed.

“No, no I get it. I have a reputation and it’s not a very good one,” Heeseung said and YN nodded.

“Yeah, can’t say I haven’t heard,” she said. “You are a really talented player by the way. Congratulations!”

Heeseung winced at her words, annoyance filling his chest. He regretted everything now, at that moment. He used girls around him to try to take his mind off of her, wishing their bodies were her. Of course, he was left unsatisfied and mostly feeling empty. He wanted her so bad and now he could sense that using the girls was just a big mistake, because now she wanted nothing to do with him. And it was only his fault.

“Would you ever give me a chance?” He said, ignoring her statement.

“What do you mean?” She asked.

“I know I have a reputation, YN, a pretty sick one at that. But please, when I tell you those girls meant nothing to me, absolutely nothing, I mean it. I have watched you, I have admired you, and I have tried chasing you and you never once gave me the time of day. But I’m here, in front of you and I’m begging you to please, please give me a chance,” He pleaded, his hands coming up to hold her shoulders, him looking directly in her eyes.

“Heeseung, I-I had no idea,” YN said.

“Please tell me I didn’t fuck up my chance, please, please!” He begged, searching her eyes as a gasp left her lips. 

She really had no idea, and as she looked at him there she wanted to just hold him in her arms and reassure him it was okay. But why was she frozen in place? She didn’t know what to think, her heart wanted to be loved by him, deep down she was glad he wanted her and craved her attention, but the other part was still screaming at her to run so she wouldn’t get hurt. What if he hurts her? Just use her in the end?

“I don’t want to be one of your girls you use and just toss away,” she said.

“No, no, YN,” He said. “Please, give me a chance to show you that I have been and am still completely at your mercy. Let me prove it to you, please.”

“Okay.”

********************

The next day YN woke up to flowers arriving at her door, with small love notes on them. And the following week she woke up to the same thing, again with love letters. For the past month this was happening every week, flower arrangements starting to decorate her apartment. She kept every note and would read them every night. Her interactions with Heeseung were frequent, Sunoo even being impressed with his courting of his best friend, and how Heeseung seemed to be completely at her will. Heeseung would ditch his friends to hangout with them, always holding her books or bag for her if she needed it, anything she mentioned Heeseung would get it for her. Sunoo couldn’t believe just how much of a simp the Basketball Captain was for his best friend. 

It was a Saturday morning when Sunoo heard a knock on their door. YN wasn’t up yet and Sunoo was an early riser. He walked over and opened the door, seeing the big flowers in his face as a smiling Heeseung popped out from behind.

“Oh God,” Sunoo said. “I think we get it.”

“I can’t give my woman some flowers?” Heeseung said as he followed Sunoo in their apartment, placing the flowers down on their small table.

“We’re running out of room, Heeseung. You know what’s an amazing gift? Soju,” Sunoo suggested.

“Yeah, because I’d like to help YN carry you to bed again,” Heeseung teased.

“I stand corrected, you and YN are made for each other. Lame asses,” Sunoo said. “She’s still asleep.”

Sunoo walked to the door then, grabbing his things and leaving Heeseung alone just standing there. Heeseung was starting to get used to Sunoo’s behavior and attitude. Sunoo was sassy and unpredictable. He never mentioned what he was doing or why, he just did. So him leaving Heeseung alone didn’t really surprise him or phase him. 

Heeseung walked down the hallway and silently opened the door to YNs room. He peeked inside, quietly walking in and closing the door behind him. He went over to the bed where he saw her small curled up figure, something he found endearing everytime she fell asleep with him. She grabbed things and always curled up in her sleep. She would mumble things as well and sometimes he would wake up and she was laying sideways. The way this woman had his heart in chains. He was a complete slave for her, her very being was the reason for his existence. 

He got in bed next to her, sitting up against her head board, her body began to move and she mumbled. He moved some of her hair out of her face, her head chasing the feeling as she began waking up. 

“Heeseung?” she mumbled out, still in a dreamlike state.

“Shh, go to sleep, pretty,” Heeseung hushed her. “I’ll be right here.”

“Lay with me?” She asked and he got up, removing his jeans and shirt, and getting back in bed with her. He pulled her body towards him, hugging her and trapping her frame to his. She turned over, their chests touching as she wrapped her arms around him, nuzzling her face into his neck.

“Hmmm, so nice. This is nice,” she mumbled out, a smile going on her face.

“You’re so perfect for me, go back to sleep, love. I’m right here.”

Heeseung fell asleep then. He came over early because he wanted to take her to breakfast, but he’d skip breakfast any day if it meant he got to hold her in bed and sleep next to her. It didn’t take long for him to fall into his dreams, dreaming over caressing her and holding her. He didn’t even need to dream because he was already living his reality. When YN woke up, she was wrapped in Heeseungs arms, not really remembering how he got here. She thought everything was a dream and when she came face to face with his sleeping form, she was glad it wasn’t.

She lifted her fingers and began to trace his face. He looked so peaceful and beautiful when he slept. She could get used to this.

“You know, if you wanted to take a picture, I’d let you take as many as you’d like,” Heeseung mumbled out, not opening his eyes and causing fits of giggles to come out of her mouth.

“I’ll do that later, for now I just want to stare,” she said and he smiled.

“Stare all you want, sweetheart, my face is yours,” he said.

“When did you get here?” she asked.

“Earlier, but you looked so cute I didn’t want to disturb you,” he said, opening his eyes and staring at her.

“Hi,” she said.

“Hi,” he said back, both of them just smiling at each other.

They just stared at each other, YN could feel how Heeseung’s chest began to beat faster as she rubbed circles on his skin. Heeseung then realized how close she was, the flush in her cheeks and her tired eyes waking up more and more. He couldn’t help himself, he leaned in quickly and filled the small gap, kissing her lips in a passionate kiss. She moved her lips with his, her fingers gentle on his jaw as their mouths moved in sync. She moaned into the kiss and something in heeseung ignited. 

Heeseung quickly rolled over on top of her, not breaking the kiss. His tongue slipped in her mouth, his kiss getting more and more aggressive. He bit her lips, sucking on them and trailing kisses down her neck. He began sucking on the skin of her neck and collarbone as she lifted her neck up to give him more access. Heat rushed to her core and she could feel herself getting wetter by each touch. 

“Tell me to stop,” Heeseung said, his hands trailing down her sides, going under the large shirt and feeling the skin on her hip, playing with the lace of her panties.

“Don’t,” she said, sighing and Heeseung lifted up, looking down at her.

“Are you sure?” he asked and she nodded.

“Please,” she brought his lips down to hers. “Touch me.”

Heeseung didn’t need to be told twice. He quickly kissed back, lifting up a little and removing her shirt in one go. Her breasts were on full display for him to see, the skin on her neck and collarbone already to color from his actions. He leaned back down and crashed his lips to her with a hungry growl. He kneaded her breasts, squeezing and pinching her nipples, causing small yelps to come out of her mouth. Every reaction he got he felt his erection grow. 

“Baby, look at what you do to me,” he took her hand in his and brought it to his erection where she began to palm through his boxers. 

“More, Heeseung I want more.”

Heeseung trailed kisses down her stomach, his hand placed between her legs and feeling the wetness in between. He pressed his thumb inside, pushing her panties inside. She bucked her hips and moaned at the feeling, her body moving up and down along with his pushing trying to gain some relief. 

“Fuck, you’re so wet.”

Heeseung became impatient then, he grabbed her panties and quickly forced them down as he became face to face with her heat. He gave her thighs a few bites as he lifted her legs over his shoulder and he licked her cunt from top to bottom. She moaned at his actions, him not once taking his eyes off her as he shoved his tongue deep inside. Her body jolted up as she sighed. Heeseung began to abuse her center with his mouth, eating her out like this was his last meal. Her body was shaking, moving side to side and she rode his face. Moans and curses were coming from her mouth as he continued, her wetness and his saliva falling on the bed and everywhere it would get.

He pressed down on her middle, sticking two fingers in and pumping them as he licked her up. She felt the pit in her stomach then, as Heeseung continued giving her core all his attention. 

“Hee, I’m-fuck! Gonna cum!”

“Baby, cum for me. Let me taste you.”

With one more press on her middle, her body convulsed and her legs began to shake. He felt her release all over his tongue, her squirting directly into his mouth and he sucked every bit of it. He pulled his fingers out, sucking and letting her ride out her high.

“Oh my God!” She cried, tears coming from her eyes as her body still shook from her intense orgasm. 

Heeseung leaned back on his knees, watching as her body convulsed and was coming down from her high. He leaned up, taking her lips in his and letting her taste herself. She moaned, wrapping her arms around him and pulling him closer. 

“God, that was so sexy.”

He removed his boxers then, hissing as he grabbed his cock in his hands and pumped himself, feeling the precum leak from his tip. He placed himself between her folds, going up and down and teasing her. She stared into his eyes, nodding as he gave her a quick kiss and pushed his cock in between her core. He pushed all the way in, a gasp leaving her lips before she closed her eyes shut and bit her lips. 

“Baby, you can take it all. God, fuck! You’re so tight!”

He pushed in deeper, hearing her whine from the stretch. He was big. The biggest she’s had and she wasn’t sure if she could handle it. But he didn’t stop. He kissed the tears from her eyes as he finally bottomed out, not moving and letting her adjust. He peppered her face with kisses as she nodded, signaling him to move. He did, pulling out halfway before thrusting all the way in, getting a yelp from her as her body jolted. 

“It’s so big, Hee. Fuck!”

“You got this, let me make you feel good.”

She nodded as he began thrusting in and out, picking up his speed. Her body started matching his movements, her back arching as she began moaning in pleasure. He grabbed her hands and held them over her head as he leaned back, taking her hip and thrusting his hips into her. He looked down where they met, watching in awe as his cock moved in and out of her cunt, seeing their juices mix perfectly together. He looked at her face and saw pleasure as she moaned and whispered profanities. Her breasts bounced with each thrust, his own moans mixing with hers. 

His eyes closed shut as he leaned his head back before looking back down and seeing her look up at him, her eyes glossy as she tried to focus on him. He could feel himself close to release and knew she was close too. He felt her cunt clenching around him as she moaned out for him.

“Cum with me, cum! Fuck! So tight!”

Once he said that she squeezed him deeper, taking him as he hit just the right spot for her. His thrusts slowed as he stilled, releasing inside her and filling her up. She cried out, her eyes rolling in the back of her head as she saw stars. Her cunt sucked him in as she felt him release deep inside, her own release happening along with his. He collapsed on top of her, slowly moving and riding out their highs. Their bodies were gasping for air, him not caring as he grabbed her face and brought her lips to his in a passionate kiss. 

“Baby, that was way better than just some fantasy,” he said, chuckling to himself.

“Mmm, well you don’t need to fantasize anymore,” She said, kissing his lips. “You can come to me now.”

“Since you’re giving me permission, I’d like to take you every day, every night, every morning,” he said, kissing her lips and trailing more kisses down her neck. “I’m completely yours.”

“Thank you for being so patient with me,” she said.

“No, thank you for letting me love you. And I promise to love you and cherish you, like I said, I’m at your mercy.”

[kitchenisking]

Sterek Fic Rec

Second night of chunnuka!

As it Should Be by KuroKitty (HaleYes) - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 7,240, sterek)

Stiles comes home from his 18th birthday party at the bowling alley to find a surprise waiting for him in his room.

Or, the one where Derek has no chill.

Daddy. by Krose_16 - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 1,430, sterek)

Stiles smells like someone else. A certain alpha doesn't like it.

Daddy's Boy by Snare - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 2,822, sterek)

Stiles has been blushing around him all week, sputtering and cheeks going red. It’s only after a pack meeting when Derek finally sees the soft pink lace peaking out from under his waistband.

you're still you by EvanesDust - (Rating: T, Words: 7,292, sterek)

[excerpt] Stiles takes a deep breath and follows the pull of their bond to the kitchen. He stops short when he sees Derek sitting at the table. His brows are furrowed with worry and his eyes are closed. But that’s not what makes Stiles’s heart skips a beat.

No, it’s the fact that Derek, his thirty-two-year-old husband, looks half his age now. As in literally half his age. There’s no way that the man sitting in front of him is older than sixteen.

“What the fuck?” Stiles blurts out, and Derek’s eyes shoot open, the chair clattering back as he stands as if Stiles surprised him. And that just goes to show that something is seriously wrong because Stiles has only ever been able to do that when Derek’s stressed and lost in thought. “What the hell happened?”

…or the murder husbands fic that’s mostly sweet while bby Derek takes care of his pregnant mate.

Neither Here Nor There by FelOllie - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 7,083, sterek)

"Yeah." Stiles ran a hand through hair he hadn't washed in days, not since he'd come home from his dad's to find the loft littered with shotgun shells, black blood staining the floor and the heavy scent of wolfsbane cloyingly thick in the air, with Derek nowhere to be found. "We'll get him back. But..."

"What?" Scott asked, crossing the floor to stand before Stiles, lifting a comforting hand to his best friend's shoulder.

Stiles met Scott's eyes, his own orbs glittering with terrified tears. "What if he's just ash by then?"

Bright by thedevilyousay  - (Rating: Not Rated, Words: 4,102, sterek)

"The strongest warlock in all the land uses his power to constantly kidnap the princess. Most people believe it’s because he’s in love with her, but they have it all wrong. He’s in love with the knight who always comes to save her."

or

Allison finally lets out all the air that’s been trapped in her lungs to giggle, a noise she quickly tries to cover with her hand. This is all too much though, honestly. Stiles isn’t even dressed, Derek has no idea that the mage only does this to see him, and she suddenly can’t remember if she took the kettle off the fire in Stiles kitchen before walking out here to greet her Knight. She tries to gather herself before she speaks.

Nothing Gory Means No Glory (but baby please don't bore me) by DefNotForWork - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 13,537, sterek)

“I don’t like them touching you,” he rumbled. “I don’t want anyone else touching you.” He leaned forward, and Stiles’ eyes went wide, thinking for one crazy second that the wolf might be leaning in for a kiss. He stood, frozen in place as Derek pressed in close, chest to chest, dragging his nose and then his stubbly cheek against the corner of Stiles’ slack, shocked mouth, down over his jaw and then to his neck. Stiles recognized it as scenting, but damn did it feel like so much more.

Or

Stiles puts himself in the way of a succubus, gets munched on, Derek talks about his feelings, and then they find true love. Not strictly in that order.

At Peace by RisingQueen2 (FallenQueen2) - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 1,801, sterek)

Stiles spies Derek looking adorably soft and can’t help but go to him.

The End is the Beginning by AClosedFicIsNeverRead - (Rating: Mature, Words: 6,496, sterek)

When Chris returned to the living room, rifle in hand, Stiles – God help him – looked so relieved. 

“Thank you,” Stiles sighed. He sat up and closed his eyes, trying to hold himself somewhat still as he waited to die.

Chris clenched his jaw. Raised his rifle. Aimed with tearful eyes. And pulled the trigger. 

- OR - 

The one where Stiles is bitten and left for dead by a rogue Alpha without anyone knowing, becomes increasingly unstable, and asks Chris Argent to put him down. It doesn't go the way he expected it would...

let the tension seep from your bones by To_fill_the_sea - (Rating: Mature, Words: 3,510, sterek)

Derek comes home from tracking a rogue alpha that was encroaching on his territory and threatening his town. When he finally fixes the problem and comes back home he finds Stiles crying in the shower. He then does what he can to soothe and help him.

[licorice-tea]

You’re An Angel When You Sleep

Pairing: Trafalgar Law x reader

Content: angst, drowning, a little “off-screen” violence, hurt/comfort, near death experience

Word Count: 1.5k

A/N: literally wrote this in between classes so hopefully it doesn’t feel too rushed! not edited super closely yet, the grammar might be a little off. inspired by the song “Around The Bend” by Pearl Jam, specifically the last verse <3

Edited 2/28/24

Law is sinking, and there’s nothing he can do.

People call it “The Curse of The Sea.” They say that “she” turns her back on you when you eat a devil fruit. It’s simply the price to pay for such immense power.

And he has never had to worry about it before. His devil fruit ability affords him the security of being to prevent trips into the ocean. Not that he ever would fall- Law is far too careful a man- but he has plenty of crewmates and friends/allies that could somehow knock him overboard.

How sickening, that the first time it actually happened was at the hands of an enemy. And how disappointing, that it had only happened because of his own pride. A foolish disregard of taking caution while standing close to the railing on the enemy ship, when one of his opponent’s underlings threw something that didn’t even really hurt, but sent him overboard. In the midst of a battle where everyone was expected to hold their own- Law could expect no help as he plunged into icy waters.

It’s cold enough as it is, and his curse does nothing to help. He tries his hardest to stay conscious- perhaps he can still use his power if he thinks hard enough. People awaken their devil fruits all the time, so there’s no reason why he can’t do it now. But, no matter how badly he wants to simply teleport back to the deck of the ship, he can’t. The feeling of impending doom only serves to weaken his resolve, and soon enough Law is unwillingly giving up and giving in to the sea.

He’s about 10-12 meters down now. The weight of the water makes it feel nearly impossible to hold his breath for longer, so he lets out an exhale ever so slowly.

But no one is coming, and it’s time to accept his fate. “This is it,” he thinks, “just another pirate lost to the sea. That’s how it ends for me.”

He takes a moment to reflect on life up until now. So much pain and suffering, but in the end he just can’t stop remembering what little good there has been. His crew, who, no matter how much they bothered him, were his family. His blood family and Corazon, who he hopes to see again soon if there is any sort of afterlife. Then there’s you- with your uncanny ability to make him smile and laugh, your clever personality and friendly nature, all your strength and intelligence, and seemingly unwavering good morals. Law feels he barely deserves to have known you in this life, let alone fall in love with you as he has. Which is why he never shared his feelings with you or anyone, in all the time you’d been on his crew. Before this moment, he’d at least had the comfort of knowing there would always be the future, and therefore more time to open up to you figure out his feelings.

“How foolish.”

Law is just about to close his eyes- at least then it might be a more peaceful demise- when there’s a splash that breaks the surface of the waves. His eyes shoot wide open as he tries to figure out what it is, as it’s rather difficult to see clearly with his vision blurring and on the verge of losing consciousness.

All he can be sure of is that it’s a person. The light from above the waves surrounds their silhouette giving them an angelic halo, but simultaneously blocking out all their features from his view.

Law wonders, “Are you here to seal my fate? To ensure I don’t find some way out of this?” If he could, he’d ask that they do it quickly. Still, that painfully hopeful little part of his mind can’t help but come out in what are more than likely his last moments alive. “Or, are you here to save me? Are you gonna give me a second third chance at this? I don’t deserve it, but I will accept it. I’ll use it to do more; work harder, fulfill every goal. Confess to y/n.”

And that hopeful streak seems to take over his body as he uses his last iota of strength to reach upwards. Law’s angel continues swimming downward, but he can’t hold his breath long enough to see them reaching out to him, too.

His last thought is of you. He swears he can see your face on this mystery person as they get closer; your pretty eyes and lips, your hair swirling around your form underwater. Could it actually be… No, he doubts you’d even seen him falling overboard. But maybe he’s already dead, and you really are an angel. Law doesn’t get the chance to fully consider either reality though, as he finally blacks out.

-

“Gimme gimme gimme… a man after midnight…”

This is how Law taught you to do CPR on someone whose heart had stopped. Years ago, when you were struggling with keeping count of 100-120 beats per minute, he told you to “think of a song with the same count.” Most everyone’s go-to CPR song is “Stayin’ Alive.” But, you prefer the classic ABBA song. You pause every 30 compressions to administer 2 breaths, and as you remove your lips from his, a thought crosses your mind. “He looks so peaceful like this.” And even while unconscious, he’s handsome… angelic, even. Nevertheless, you’d much rather have an alive and annoyed looking Law than a dead and calm one.

“Is there a soul out there… Someone to hear my-”

Law coughs suddenly, and shoots up into a sitting position, gasping for breath.

“Law!” You throw your arms around his neck, nearly knocking the man back over.

And though he’s still catching his breath and coming to his senses, he lets you, and puts an arm around your back. “Y/n,” another cough, “what happened?”

You release him (much to his disappointment) and explain how the fight had ended soon after the crew lost sight of him; their captain. And, while the others quickly overtook the enemies, you dove overboard where you’d last seen him. It was pure luck, though guided by your intuition, that you found Law beneath the surface.

“Then I swam over here-“

“Which is where?”

You nod in the direction behind him. “Just around the bend from the harbor. The Polar Tang and the enemy’s ship can be seen from there, so I thought it’d be best to hide while you…”

“While I was dying.”

“Don’t say it like that,” you scold him with a frown, “you’re alive.”

“But I could have died.” Law says with very little pride. He sounds a little out of it, which makes sense considering the circumstances. “I could have died, and you saved me.”

“Well, any one of us would’ve, Captain-“

“Thank you, y/n.”

You shake your head bashfully. “It was no problem, really.” That’s a lie, and you both know it. The water in this part of the ocean is freezing, but through some incredible resolve that you hadn’t been aware of before, you pushed through it. For him. “So… We should get back to the fight, yeah?”

You move to stand up from your place on your knees, but Law stops you. With his hand on your shoulder, he pulls you back down to his side. “You said the fight is over?”

“Mhm.”

“Then let’s just… stay here, for a moment.”

He leans toward you hesitantly, though you’re not sure if it’s because he feels weak or he just wants you to hold him again. Either way, you wrap your arms around him and rest your chin on his shoulder. You hold onto each other with gentle force, and you feel him exhale deeply.

“I need to tell you something.” Law mutters.

You pull back enough to see his face. “Right now? Can’t it wait, Law-“

“I can’t want any longer.” And he really can’t. He’d tell you about how he had mistaken you for a living, breathing angel another time. For now, he just needs to fulfill his promise to said angel (to you?), and confess his love for you.

“Ok… What is it?”

Law is very straightforward as he says it. “I’m in love with you.” And he makes it impossibly hard to return to the battle when he asks that you never leave him in this life, like so many others have. Which you promise not to, of course, though it’s not exactly your decision. You tell him that you love him too, and in turn demand that he doesn’t die on you, either. Law nods against you.

The two of you stay there a while longer, in each other’s arms around the bend.

[farshootergotme]

Can I just say thank you thank you. 👏👏👏

I grew up with the 2004 Batman cartoon and I have thought Dick and Bruce had a parental relationship whether it be father/son or Big brother/little brother it depends on the adaption.

I have just recently got back into Batman and into comics in general and I was honestly a bit shell shocked to see so much well adopted family incest which is just wow but I’m just numb to the internet at this point so nothing surprises me anymore.

What I can’t stand is liars, I swear these people who ship dick and Bruce together are just straight up in denial in some places just accept you’re shipping something taboo. Don’t lie to me about how much they hold a place in queer history which is greatly exaggerated given how it happen based on a lie by a quack and his horrible book note the beds were separate I checked the infamous comic panel it’s just draw really badly but given how tight the deadlines for comic back in the day were I will forgive that poor artist. Also another book they source from the 2000s book written about the queer coding of Batman and Robin seems to really like to leave out the fact that Dick is a child and is written as one. No matter what gen he was written as young lad with hobbies similar to that generation and time period mostly.

Like yes at the time it was done because homophobia but don’t pretend there wasn’t another issue aka it would be the grooming of a minor like for context homosexuality was see as connected to pedophilia. Like seriously when I was looking into this topic, it honestly felt like telephone because how much the original context of the panel was lost like seriously does no one check sources anymore.

Another thing they don’t bring up is how in the 1940s adopting was very uncommon and seen as weird to many it wasn’t as accepted back then which is why ward was used because that was more acceptable back then. It’s also the reason why Jason was adopted by Bruce because it was more acceptable when he was created. Also it was such a non issue to the writers at the time that even though technically Dick wasn’t adopted by Bruce on panel he still treated as one by the writers mostly before Marv Wolfman decided it make for interesting story to have Bruce not adopted Dick and have Dick have a whole hang up on it and is confused by why Bruce didn’t at that time.

Like literally I am tired of people claiming Dick doesn’t want to be adopted by Bruce or that he never wanted him to his father to him it’s simply just not true although it is complicated. Like Dick won’t call Bruce dad but in his eyes as he got older he saw Bruce as a father figure as well as his second dad and Bruce has always seen Dick as like a son and to his actual son blood or no blood for crying out loud he bloody raised him along with Alfred for over ten years like how could Dick not develop a parental bond with him and Alfred ahh. He may not be father of the year but he still cared and look after him all those years like no wonder Dick felt hurt in the original Marv wolfmen story when he wasn’t adopted.

Now, I will say in the early adaption of Batman and Robin and even the silver age to an extent. Did betray them as brothers because well the age gap was closer in 1966 version and late 70s cartoons of them so I can see why older fans can see it that way and the silver age mostly do a big brother little brother dynamic with them. While golden age seems to flip flop and if they were father/son or Big brother/little brother and the Bronze Age they went to father/son by the end because that was probably more interesting to write. Like a son repelling against his overly critical and overprotective father figure was probably relatable to lot of teens and young adults reading Dick stories at that time. Then the rest of eras after that just settled with them being Father/son duo mostly. We don’t talk about Devin weird ass takes in their relationship I swear she is just inserting herself in some characters just to be creepy towards Richard and well she nearly destroyed Oliver character by writing him being weird about Richard when he was Robin which was just yikes.

I also just find it so gross how she took a very reserved and very ace coded character like Dick Grayson and sexualised him, like making his exotic and making him overly sexual is just huge yikes to me and making him Romani because circus is such a huge stereotype and quite harmful. I have such mix feelings about Richard being romani because of how it was done and Tom Tyler has done a poor job in my opinion as well. Like originally Dick was just pure American then his mother became european notable french in one of them which makes more sense to me. I don’t know, I will eat my socks when it’s done well which would be wonderful but right now it’s just no to me. Also, why Richard like what just because he’s sexy Devin and he is romani because circus. Like my ass is as white as snow but even I know that is a weird ass take and honestly fetishy in nature I feel.

Which leads to me being so weary of people who do use it because like yes some people do it so well take notes writers at DC. But others well… I feel just sexualise him for the sake of it and I get very suspicious of people who make draw Dick overly feminine or straight up make him the wife in the relationship. It just makes my trans man heart nervous because usually they also ship Richard with older man (Bruce with him as well probably…) which in Canon he has called creeps and acts super uncomfortable around them. Like whatever ship your taboo ships just keep a safe distance from me okay. It just sadden how Richard is written as overly sexual and slutty like that is not my boy. 😭

I think the reason it also upset me so much is Bruce in a lot of ways is like my dad when he is written as a well meaning father figure. I relate to Dick being the eldest of many siblings and also my Dad is my stepdad but he has raised since I was nearly one. I know it’s not the same but to me he is my father and nothing will change that. It’s why I can’t stop people who act like Bruce and Dick aren’t father/son because well he’s not adopted by law so it’s doesn’t count but to Bruce already is and honestly I just wish in modern adaption just get adopted as a early teen at this point. Like even modern DC doesn’t hide or exclude Dick Grayson is Bruce Wayne eldest son and I’m so happy for that. (Even though he has been adopted by law but as an adult but I digress.)

I will shot myself mentally if I see another person claim it is DC heteronormative doing their relationship like shut up. You who says this bs you clearly don’t care about queer history or adoption history in general and it’s so harmful how people try to undermine adopted families like that. Like seriously ship what you like just don’t pretend it isn’t taboo as all hell. 😤 Also, anyone who claims this don’t you dare call young queers homophobia because they’re saying how it is. You don’t see people defending pedophilia and incest in Greek mythology do ya.

(Then I think in my head how strange it always the ace coded characters that get sexualised or made the secretly horny seductress/playboy type food for thought.) 🤔

Oh apologies for the kinda rant there but this honestly this has been bothering me about the bat fandom. I will say I’m still a noob when it comes to comic book history and I haven’t read most of Dick and Bruce books but I have done my best to do my homework on them and the rest of Batman history and it members. I have honestly only read modern books like world finest and short teen titans spin off book. I’m currently pre order Mark Waid latest book Batman and Robin year one which I am so excited for truly he is saving me given me some good Father/son moments with Dick and Bruce. Also maybe the new Nightwing which I hope will be good, I read TT run online free because I’m poor :p and it was so boring, Richard just feels so bland in that book. Like I will give TT credit their some good panels and moments but that’s just it. My inner Dick Grayson fanboy is showing ha ha. 😅

Anyway, sorry my rambling but honestly this fandom baffles me sometimes.

I have nothing to add—you said it all. Loved the rant and I agree with all of it! Thanks anon!

[rikiflrts]

At The Usual Spot.

synopsis. after traversing through teyvat for what seemed like decades to find your twin sibling, you decided to take a break from the hustle and bustle as you allowed yourself to bask in your innermost desires, which you were reluctant to do—falling in love. you settled in fontaine with paimon a little over a year ago to take a breather, and that’s where you meet the charming magician who, for some reason, you couldn’t take your eyes off of. it was almost like he hypnotized you, except he didn’t. it was true that he was one of the greatest magicians who’ve ever existed in teyvat, but who would’ve thought that his greatest act yet would leave the most bittersweet aftertaste? you already lost your sibling, and now...you've possibly just lost the love of your life.

contents. gn!reader, fontaine arc is altered here but there are some minor spoilers, flashbacks are italicized, suggestive-ish themes, use of french words, slight profanity. angst.

words. 13,134

reblogs are very much appreciated !! ଘ(˵╹-╹)━☆

being a traveler was no joke. you had to venture into multiple regions and chew on any information you could get from the archons—most of them couldn’t even give you a concrete answer as to where your twin sibling was, even though you knew that they were connected to your blood kin somehow. one of the archons was a drunk bard who couldn’t be taken seriously in a nutshell; another was a man who had his lips sealed due to a contract; then followed a woman who made puppets to rule her kingdom so she could isolate herself from the world; then there was a small flower girl that shrank and had amnesia; and then there was this archon who hosted jury trials in the opera house as a form of entertainment.

you’d think that most of them could at least help you gain intel since they’re considered as highly ranked entities that serve their people through systems, but ironically enough, the only person who was really able to help was the flower girl who changed lives.

no, literally, she changed lives. look at the wanderer, for example—she took him under her wing, and now he’s a changed man. well, not really, but at least he was friendlier.

you met a lot of people who have helped you along the way, but in order to make a living, you took up commissions and went on various adventures. it was a routine;  you enter a new region, you meet the archon, you help them solve their issues, and then they tell you to skidaddle and move on to the next region. 

you’ve been going at it for what seemed like years. you’re burned out, and your mind needs a break from the constant demands that people keep weighing on your shoulders.

paimon said it herself. you needed a break. you were so much of a people-pleaser and a workaholic that you didn’t even notice your own mental health declining.

“this can’t keep going on, traveler! paimon knows how badly you want to be reunited with your sibling, but paimon is worried that you might end up collapsing due to exhaustion!!” the emergency food says worriedly as she tugs on your sleeve. the pitch of her voice went up a bit higher, which indicated the intensity of her tone. she was really concerned about you.

“paimon, i can’t stop now. the sooner we move, the faster we can find them.” you say adamantly as you gently remove her hand from your sleeve before flattening it out so that it doesn’t wrinkle, “i’ll be fine.” you say in an attempt to reassure you with a solemn look on your face, but paimon responds by stomping her feet mid-air. “paimon can’t stand seeing you like this traveler!! please, just take a break!” 

you sigh at her stubbornness, which is ironic because you were being stubborn too.

“alright, i’ll take a break-” you got cut off mid-sentence as paimon squeals in excitement, “YOU WILL?? HOORAY! paimon thinks we should stop by at the tavern so we could reple-” “paimon.” “oh…ehe. sorry, continue...” she says sheepishly with an apologetic smile after realizing that she was getting ahead of herself once again.

“as i was saying, i’ll take a break, but only once we set foot in fontaine. two weeks should be enough.” you finally continued, to which paimon responded with bright, gleaming eyes. “really??? do you promise that?” paimon asks eagerly as she holds up her pinky, indicating that a pinky promise should be made to seal the deal. you couldn’t help but laugh at her childishness.

“pinky promise.” 

true to your word, you did plan to take a break once you arrived in the hydro archons’ kingdom. you were aware that your presence would cause an uproar among the masses since word has gone out that a blonde traveler fought with heaven and earth just to do justice to the people on land, and apparently, a publishing company called the steambird was the one that made that silly headline.

because of that, you were forced to keep a low profile for the time being to avoid everyone’s attention shifting onto you.

and that is why, as of now, you were wearing a hood that covered your distinct, blonde hair as you got boarded off at the romaritime harbor. the deep waterfalls that extended through the horizon made a lightly deafening sound as you could vividly hear the impact of the water crashing down onto the ocean repeatedly in a continuous cycle. 

ignoring that unbearable rhythm, you hummed to yourself in contentment as you looked around—there were dogs adorned with jewelry and articles of clothing, transportation vehicles that followed specific currents, and mechanical guards with human-like forms wandering around the harbor—it was a sight to behold. the rumors were true after all. fontaine is way ahead of its time.

“this seems like a curious place to reside in…” you mumble to yourself while looking around you as you walk up to what seems like an elevator, unbeknownst to the ash-blonde male who was about to collide with you.

“ouch!!” “gah-!”

you were quite a high-alert person, but you got so distracted with sight-seeing that you ended up bumping into the stranger before falling to the ground. 

“archons…” you winced in pain as the impact of the fall made its way to your bum. you were too focused on making sure that you fell unscathed to see the man in front of you. 

“oh heavens!! ma chérie, are you alright?” he spoke with a hint of concern. you still didn’t look up at him. judging by the way he talks alone, you could tell that he was a lively person who could achieve anything he set his mind to. his intonation was enough for you to decipher what kind of person he could possibly be. but alas, it appears that you were the only one who fell from the impact, though, which explains why he lowered himself as he offered to lend you a hand to stand up. 

“yes, i’m alright.” you say politely as you take his hand to stabilize yourself as you stand up. once your feet were finally placed back on the ground, your eyes met his mischievous violet orbs. “I apologize for bumping into you, mr. …” you trailed off, realizing that you don’t really know who this man is. he wore interesting clothes—that of a magician. you didn’t really want to assume what he does for a living though, so you chose to call him the first thing that came to mind. “mr… hat?” you say awkwardly as you bow lightly to avoid his eyes due to embarrassment, which earned a hearty chuckle from his delicate figure.

“mr. hat, you say?” he chuckles once again before continuing. “ah! where are my manners? allow me to introduce myself. my name is lyney, and i am a renowned magician here in fontaine.” he places one hand to his chest and the other behind his back as he bows down in almost a curtsey as a form of greeting.’ so he IS a magician…’ you thought to yourself. you were about to let your mind wander once more until he continued.

“It is a pleasure to meet you,” he paused for a moment and grabbed your hand gently before continuing,  “oh legendary traveler.” he locked eye contact with you as he kissed your hand lightly. as if the kiss wasn’t enough to fluster you, he even found out your true identity. you got taken aback by his direct nature, but you paid little-to-no mind to his formality. “how did you know???” you leaned into him and whispered as fear was written all over your face. you started to panic as you looked around to see if anyone had heard him.

‘is this man always this…brazen?’ you thought to yourself.

“well…” he trailed off smiling as his eyes shifted his focus onto something else. your gaze followed his, which made you realize that the hood that hid your face neatly from unwanted gazes had fallen to your shoulders.

so much for keeping a low profile.

you widen your eyes and internally curse yourself for being so careless. you’re so out of it today. paimon was right, you really needed to get some rest.

just as that realization crept onto you, you heard a snap! illicit from the magician’s fingers and before you knew it, your hood went back into place, hiding your golden locks as if he performed a magic trick.

you witnessed all kinds of bizarre phenomena; harnessing visions was one thing, but sincere gestures and instances like this felt surreal to you. it was as if the inner child in you slowly crawled their way out of hiding as you reminisced about the magic shows you watched as a child with your twin during previous expeditions.

the nostalgic but fleeting feeling left a bittersweet taste on your lips.

you looked at him in awe, to which he replied with a smirk. “what? cat got your tongue?” he teases you with an amusing look on his face. “very funny.” you dryly laughed at his pun as you tugged on the hem of your hoodie to attempt to hide your face even more.

lyney noticed your odd behavior and asked, “are you hiding from someone, by any chance?” you stared at him blankly for a couple of seconds before replying, “im not really hiding from someone per se, im just trying to avoid getting too much attention.” you then briefly explained what you were going through and that you wanted to rest for a while in this new environment before going back to your daily routine.

“i see. so you’re not a fugitive that’s on the loose right now, correct?” he jokingly says as he traces the brim of his top hat. your gaze unconsciously followed where his fingertips landed, which gave you the opportunity to appreciate the feline crest that was embroidered on his clothing with delicate detail. “hey, im just trying to take it easy.” you said in defense as you pouted lightly since you didn’t like what he just accused you of, finally tearing your eyes away from the mischievous magician who stood before you.

meanwhile, lyney over here finds you intriguingly adorable. it made him want to tease you more.

“im just making sure. you now stand on sacred grounds of justice under the hydro archon herself. it wouldn’t be a favorable place for you to be in had you done something illegal, no?” he smirks, violet orbs still staring straight through your soul as he slightly tips his head forward—almost like a playful form of provocation. 

“you must be mistaken, monsieur lyney. i wouldn’t do something as disgraceful as that, so rest assured.” you say in a matter-of-a-fact tone. it was a good thing katheryn taught you a few french words before you headed to the hydro archons’ region. It’s just like what she said: when in fontaine, do what the fontainians do. 

lyney’s eyebrows perked up in surprise as he heard you call him by a formal honorific in his native language. see, normally, this wouldn’t be a big deal because the word monsieur was commonly thrown around for formality and respect. but for some reason, hearing that eight-lettered word roll out from those lovely lips of yours made his heart do a summersault. the fact that you also said it in their thick accent made him all the more amused.

“but of course, i was only teasing you, mademoiselle!” He laughs it off which makes you sigh in relief. you broke eye contact with him as you shifted and ruffled your clothing for a bit as you felt the cold wind slip through the gaps of your cloak. it was getting cold, you should get going soon.

you were about to bid farewell to the fiery-spirited magician, but when you looked back up, he was no longer there. 

“huh…” in a confused state, you tiptoe yourself upwards to see if he had walked far, only for you to be startled by a voice behind you.

“looking for me?” lyney whispered cheekily in your ear. you yelled shortly after he did this out of surprise before hitting him lightly on the shoulder. “don’t do that next time, you scared me!! why are you even there anyways??” lyney only smiles as you look at him with widened eyes. “how’d you like my disappearing act?” he avoids your question. 

“i wouldn’t really call that a disappearing act. i bet you just took the opportunity to silently sneak behind me while i wasn’t looking.” you rebutted with a scoff. “oh but ma chérie, magic is all about the art of deception. it wasn’t a real magic trick, i admit, but the gesture was simple enough to have you on your tiptoes just to catch sight of me once more.” his words almost felt as if it had different meanings, but you shrugged it off. “in your dreams, magic man..” you tease him by sticking your tongue out childishly, finally going along with his flow. 

“haha. you really are an adorable little one, now aren’t you?” He says amusingly as he lifts up your chin with his index finger. “who are you calling litt-” he hushes your lips with the same finger before winking. “ah-ah-ah.” he says with a smug look in his eyes. 

honestly, you were about to throw hands at this man because he was being so touchy with you despite just meeting, but then you felt the sharp coldness melting on your skin as a comfortable warmth enveloped you. 

“how did you do that…” you look at lyney in a bewildered state as he only chuckled at your innocent reaction. “i only used my vision to balance your body temperature, ma chérie. im pretty sure you of all people know what visions are.” he says humbly as his touch breaks contact with your skin. you felt a burning sensation in the spots where he lingered, and you didn’t mean this literally.

“no but the control you have over your vision, it's… it’s amazing. thank you.” only then did you let out a heart-warming close-eyed smile that lyney ever-so loved as he witnessed the sight. the atmosphere was just right. night has fallen but the moon did not fail to illuminate your skin as it gave you a radiant glow; you were as clear as day. the animosity of the cold season lingered through all parts of the romaritime harbor—he could warm up the place easily if he wished to with his pyro vision—and yet your smile was enough to denoise the unseasonably cold weather. 

lyney determinedly thought to himself as he pondered with his thumb and index finger cupping his chin. that’s it. you have to be there. you just have to be. 

as if on cue, lyney snaps his fingers in realization once he musters up the courage to be bold. “traveler, you have something on your hair.” he points innocently at your hidden locks. you could’ve sworn that nothing was there before but you felt a light-weight object cling to the strands of your hair. you looked at him cautiously before slowly taking it out of your hair. 

you thought this was an insect or a prank of some sort, but to your surprise, it was a beautiful flower that had hues of yellows and blues mixed in with the soft petals of pink romantics. the night sky gave it justice as it lightly twinkled with the stars.

you really didn’t know what to expect from this man, he was unpredictable. “is this…” you trailed off, not knowing what to say. you were too busy adoring what the magician presented for you to realize just how much he was savoring the sight of you being absolutely starstruck by his favorite flower. “it’s a rainbow rose. i’m giving it to you as a token of our camaraderie tonight.” 

“that’s too kind of you.” you say shyly to which he responds by nodding his head. “nonsense. here, let me just…” lyney gently takes the rose away from you as he places it inside of the open pocket of your attire. “there. it looks beautiful on you.” the man says with sincerity as he takes a step back and basks under the sight of you; a delicate rose, with his delicate rose. 

you feel warmth creeping up to your cheeks and think that maybe it’s just lyney’s vision trying to balance your temperature, but in reality, you were actually just starting to get really flustered by the man who stood before you. 

“cut it out.” you giggled as you rolled your eyes playfully. he chuckled in response and took a bow before taking off his top hat and placing it to his chest while the other hand rested behind his back. “traveler, that rainbow rose is of significance to me as it symbolizes love and passion in its’ purest form.” he starts off, eyes glimmering with curiosity as he warmly gives you a smile. “with that being said, i would like to invite you to tomorrow night’s show. i will be performing at the opera epiclese. your presence would truly honor my night.” 

the tension in the atmosphere almost made you believe that he was asking you out on a date, except you had to throw away those scandalous thoughts because you knew that none of those delusions were true. there was no way this was a date, he was going to perform in front of a huge wave of people after all. he just asked you to attend if you could. it’s not like he has an alternative motive anyway.

upon pondering seriously about his invitation, you signaled him a light nod that you’ll be able to make it, and this made his face light up. you were here to unwind for a bit, so why not enjoy a magic show by an attractive- uh, you mean, by a renowned magician? and besides, you were curious to see what he can do on stage. by the looks of it, he seems to know what he’s doing most of the time.

“so you’ll come??” stars have formed on his irises as the pitch of his voice goes slightly higher due to excitement. you find yourself giggling at his eagerness, to which he realizes that he was losing face so he clears his throat before smiling shyly. “yeah, sure. i’ll be there.”  your confirmation made him see stars that night indeed. he knew it was the right decision to give you the rainbow rose before asking you to attend his show. 

“just make sure you don’t perform a lousy disappearing act again.” you jokingly said while nudging his arm, which made him hum in response as he repositioned his top hat back on his head. 

“i’ll do something greater than that, ma chérie. just wait and see.” he says ecstasticly. “if you say so, magic man.” you laughed at his response. you thought little of his statements here, but who knew they would bear so much meaning as you connected the dots in the future?

“anyhow, as much as i hate to leave, i sadly have to disentangle myself from you tonight as i still have some preparations to make for tomorrow’s show. i’ll see you there at 8 pm sharp, traveller.” he says as he kisses your hand. “haha.  see you too, lyney.” you say in response.

And with that, the magician disappeared into the severance of the night as you stood still, star-struck by what just transpired before you.

“lyney huh…” paimon appeared out of nowhere and teased with a smug look on her face. you only gave her a deadpanned stare in response. “no.”

“but traveler!! he said it himself! the rainbow rose symbolizes love and passion!! what if he’d fallen for you?” paimon whined as she ushered the idea of lyney possibly developing an interest in you. “he also said that he mastered the art of deception or something. maybe he did that for lip service. you know, like how magicians put on a false mask to put on a show.” you rebutted as you rolled your eyes. “It’s not like he’s interested in me.”

“but what if he is?”

“...”

“traveler?”

“...”

“...”

“...”

“...OH MY GOD WAIT IS IT THAT MAYBE YOU’RE THE ONE INTER-”

you laugh bitterly to yourself as you recall your first encounter with lyney. you remember it as clear as day—paimon teased you all night; from the walk to the elevator, to the ride on the aquabus, and to even your way towards hotel debora. she did not shut up at all. at first, she insisted that lyney had a crush on you, but after picking up on your reluctant responses to her questions in regards to the enigmatic ash-blonde, she ended up assuming that maybe it was you who got smitten by the young magician, not the other way around.

you denied every accusation she threw at you. you were just speechless, that was all. nothing more, nothing less. it was your first time ever to have been treated the way lyney treated you. you didn’t even know if you could call it flirting since he probably does this often.

but if he does it often, then that wouldn’t make you special.

no, this doesn’t bother you at all. he could give another girl a rainbow flower for all you care. 

“you are soooo in denial!~” paimon cooed. you had enough.

“JUST SHUT UP AND LET ME SLEEP FOR ARCHONS’ SAKE.” you yelled in annoyance as you stared at the pitch-black ceiling of the room you booked for the night. instead of feeling intimidated by your tone, paimon only giggled at your reaction.

you are not in denial. there’s no way the celestial gods would allow an outsider like you to fall in love with her children. you had set your priority straight; it’s to find your sibling and get them back—but then again, it’s been years. you’ve wandered endlessly on wide expansions of land, and have traversed multiple regions. you’ve helped people in their kingdom in hopes that your sibling would make themself known sooner or later, but only disappointment cascades over you as you gain little-to-no intel about where they could possibly be. 

you take a deep breath before letting out an exasperated sigh. 

‘get it together, snap out of it.’ you say to yourself as you try to rid traces of him from your mind. 

your mind then wanders to the night of the designated show. you arrived five minutes just before his performance started and to your pleasant surprise, the guard stated that your seat was to be found in the front row since you were one of the esteemed VIP guests, as requested by the great Lyney himself. you were touched by this gesture and thanked the guard for his hospitality. 

upon finding your seat, a series of spotlights have been angled to the center as the curtains slowly unveil a familiar silhouette who had a welcoming stance. he bowed to the audience as he introduced himself to the crowd. “welcome one, and all, to the opera epiclese! i am the star of today’s show, lyney!” he says with a proud stance as he enters the spotlight with open arms. “and over here is my sister, lynette, who will be working as my wonderful assistant. please, let’s give her a warm welcome!” lynette looked at the crowd with a blank but endearing stare. she bowed as her twin introduced her to the audience. they had strikingly similar features; had they swapped clothes, one could easily be fooled that one was the other. 

“now, some of you may be thinking: two vision holders who can freely manipulate elemental powers performing magic is not true magic at all.” he begins by catching the audience’s attention by using his pyro vision to mimic a fire-embued bow as lynette uses her anemo vision to mimic a bullseye. the arrow scorches through several wind currents before it hits the center of the target. the crowd clapped harmoniously in response. 

“so, i would like to take a moment to assure you that elemental powers will have nothing to do with what you will witness on the stage today.” he continues. as if on cue, one of their assistants came up to them to retrieve their visions. 

the lights grew dim as lynette was nowhere to be seen. 

“a magician’s greatest skill is making things disappear or appear; the possibilities are endless.” he starts as he takes off his top hat to bow courteously to the audience before throwing it up in mid-air and then catching it. he flipped over the hat to show everyone that there was nothing in it. he hums in contentment as he notices that all eyes are indeed, now on him. he now steps back and puts his hands off the hat. the people around you gasp in astonishment upon seeing the hat float by itself without any form of support to keep it still.

lyney lightly tapped it and sure enough, a few playing cards fell to the ground. there was a mixture of “ooh’s” and “ahh” in the crowd as he did this two more times. he chuckled to himself before pulling a new set of playing cards out of nowhere; making it disappear, then reappear, then disappear again. 

he then grabbed hold of his hat and attempted to put it back on his head, but for some reason, there was a stem firmly placed vertically inside the tophat. lyney acted clueless as to what was blocking his headway, only for him to pull out a rainbow rose.

you feel your breath hitch as he scans the trial room for a brief moment only for his gaze to be locked onto yours. a smile creeps onto his lips as he finally sees those captivating eyes of yours. 

with a snap of a finger, lyney shows the audience the rainbow rose he pulled out of his hat before making it vanish completely into thin air. the audience was too amazed to comprehend where the rose could possibly be until the spotlight shuns upon you as lyney gestured you to stand up which then revealed that the flower we thought, had disappeared—had reappeared tucked in between your hair as it rested on the outer lobe of your ear. 

the crowd squealed in excitement; others had already started spewing rumors about lyney conjuring up this show only so that he could express his adoration for you with that flower, but this could only be far from the truth. 

you could’ve sworn that this rose wasn’t there at all. you hadn’t picked any up on the way to the opera epiclese, nor have you brought with you the rainbow rose that he gave you last night.

how was he able to execute this? you wondered as your heart started beating. since you were flustered with all the attention garnering your way, you decided to sit down shyly. lyney was able to catch onto your body language which caused him to internally chuckle to himself due to the way you were acting.

you were so cute and shy, just for him.

“these little tricks? you’ve seen them all before.” he started as he segued to a different stance, “so it’s time for something truly extraordinary, don’t you think?” he asked the audience and everyone in the trial court seemed to be fully participating.

you were too, it’s just you’re too occupied with the unwavering beating of your chest.

the night went smoothly as he performed a truly extraordinary trick; he had prepared a water tank that was hoisted high up. the lynette who disappeared a little while ago was now inside the heavily locked water tank. the trick was basically to have lynette be able to break free from this near-death experience. the two of them succeeded with flying colors though, and this made the crowd go crazy for them. the only thing left in the tank was lynette’s clothes, but when she reappeared in front of the audience, she was dry, unscathed, and wore the same usual clothing, except with fewer wrinkles. they did a few more acts, and after the final trick, the curtains fell as the twins bid adieu, earning a standing ovation from everyone, including the hydro archon herself.

it was truly a sight to behold, and you enjoyed every bit of it. 

just as you were about to exit the premises, lynette came up to you and ushered you backstage as per lyney’s request yet again. you quietly obliged as she led you to the showman room where performers can touch up, get dressed, and get ready. 

why would lyney want to see you again? you pondered as you unconsciously twirled the loose strand of your hair as you were being led by lyney’s opposite.

“i’ve brought the traveler, lyney.” lynette said with a yawn as she opened the door, only to reveal a hopeful magician spinning on an office chair out of boredom. he stops almost immediately as lynette announces your not-so-grand entrance. “perfect! thank you, dear sister.” he grins as he jumps off of his seat to walk towards you. “now if you’ll excuse me, i’ll be taking a nap.” lynette said groggily before closing the door and leaving the two of you in the room.

“she’s leaving already?” you ask in a slightly dejected voice, feeling a bit disappointed that you weren’t able to befriend the interesting feline who looked exactly like her brother. 

“she’s been up all night diving with our younger brother, freminet. they were collecting some materials for the magic pockets that we distribute to people in the romaritime harbor.” he explained shyly as he adjusted one of his black gloves.

“i see…” you hum in approval as you look around the room. there was a black victorian coat rack next to the vanity mirror that had light bulbs bulging from the sides. the walls were painted with a light hue of white and brown; the contrasts gave depth to the ceiling which had a quite grandiose-looking chandelier. lyney could only watch as your eyes traveled the room with curiosity. 

“so, what did you call me here for?” you asked breaking the ice since he wasn’t stirring up a conversation as you thought he would. lyney gestured for you to sit on the couch to which you obliged, but you didn’t expect that he’d sit next to you despite having way more room on the other end. “i wanted to ask if you enjoyed the show tonight,” he says while fidgeting with his glove. it was rather odd to see someone as confident as him fidget in nervousness under your presence, but you didn’t think much of it. maybe he just got intimidated by you.

“of course i did, you two were amazing !! oh, and by the way, thank you so much for inviting me, let alone giving me a VIP seat. the show and the view was great.” you giggled as you recalled the chain of events that unravelled just a little while ago. the magician sighed in relief as he heard you excitedly talk about your favorite parts; he listened intently as you reinacted some of his tricks. you did poor attempts of course, but seeing how you really did love his performance warmed his heart. 

“do you like magic, traveler?” he asked while pouring you a cup of tea. “i do. my sibling and i used to stop over specific regions from different galaxies to witness all sorts of magic. well, that is until we got separated.” you mumbled out the last part as sadness lingered with your words. lyney handed you your cup and you bowed lightly as a way of saying thank you. “i’m sure you’ll find them soon, traveler.” lyney’s brows furrowed in sympathy as he looked at you with concern, his hand laying on top of yours to reassure your worries.

“i hope so.” you smiled sadly. “now, now, ma chérie. turn that frown upside down!” he says as he cups your cheeks with his gloved yet soft hands. “what do you think you’re doing.” you laughed as you looked at him in the eye. your cheeks formed a pinkish hue, and lyney was the first to notice it seeing as how he was teasing you like this. he chuckled as he leaned in close, “you’re too beautiful to be upset.” he whispered as he stared straight into your soul.

your eyes widened lightly in surprise upon hearing him compliment you. you’ve been called beautiful on several occasions, but why is it now when your heart decides to run laps? 

“i… i beg your pardon?” you stuttered as your voice lightly cracked from embarrassment. your cheeks grew a darker shade of red as lyney broke out a laugh as you weren’t able to deliver your words properly. “ma chérie, you’re just too cute.” he chuckled while holding back his tears. you tore yourself away from his grasp and pouted. “okay, now you’re just messing with me.” you huffed as you crossed your arms in discontentment. lyney teased you further by pinching your cheek, “oh come on, how could i not with these cute reactions of yours.” he cooed while mimicking your pouty face. 

you rolled your eyes and hit him playfully. “do you normally do this to people you meet on the outskirts of the harbor? is this a normal occurrence for you?” you asked absent-mindedly, not realizing what direction this conversation was headed. lyney blinked his eyes twice as if to process what you just said before smirking to himself. “no, i suppose this is a first for me.” he smiled cheekily as he leaned on the sofa, placing one of his elbows on the cushion as he rests his chin on his elbow, body completely facing you.

“and what about you? do you usually allow yourself to be reeled in by men you just met on the outskirts of the harbor as they make their advances towards you?” he asks continuously, which makes you arch your brow as he finishes his sentence. “no. this is a first for me too.” you say as you eye him cautiously. “wait so… does this mean that you’re flirting with me?” you tilted your head slightly to the side as you unconsciously leaned in. lyney noticed your body language, and he was amused as to where this was going. 

he, too, leaned in, but this time, to your ear. you feel his warm breath tickle your sensitive skin as he teases you, “i don’t know, am i?” you rolled your eyes at his childish retort before hitting him lightly on the arm. “lyney!” he only flashed you a sweet toothy grin as he inched a bit closer to you, but you scooted further back as he did so. 

“okay. fine, you got me ma chérie.” he chuckles as he put his hands up in the air in defeat. “let’s say that i am, in fact, flirting with you. what are you going to do about it?” he whispered close to you with a smug but suggestive look on his face. you begged to differ this time though, as you wanted to flip the table on him. with a smirk forming on the creases of your lip, you grabbed a hold of his cherry-colored bowtie as you lightly flatten the fabric. lyney’s breath hitches as you catch him by surprise. “you’ll have to do a better job than that if you want to find out, monsieur lyney.” 

let’s just say that things got heated and got slightly escalated ever since then. he became part of your daily routine. he always made sure to visit you in the afternoon whenever he was available. word had spread out that the renowned magician often spent his time with you more than with his own twin, lynette; to be fair, she didn’t mind at all. she preferred it this way. she thought it was refreshing to see her brother annoy someone other than her as she was worried that he would only depend on her company until archons knew when.

besides, she lowkey schemed with paimon to set you two up together anyway.

after your two-week break, lyney brought it upon himself to accompany you on your adventures. he would help you during your commissions and has been nothing but supportive throughout your journey. he even went as far as making you a top priority guest when you told him that you needed to speak with the hydro archon for any form of possible intel that you could gather. you heard that it was hard to request an audience to the furina, and you couldn’t thank lyney enough when he went the extra mile to get you closer to your goals. 

there wasn’t where the two of you wouldn’t be seen out on the streets of fontaine; you were inseparable. it’s not like the two of you were lovebirds who did PDA either, but from the locals’ perspective, all they see are two youthful souls—one is excessively trying to shower them with affection while the other is still in denial. you happened to be the latter. 

to be fair, the concept of love never really struck you. of all the years you’ve lived through since you were born, you only know of love from familial means or via forms of friendships. you never had the time for trivial matters. but for some unforeseen reason, this man, who gave you rainbow roses every day as a symbol of his affection for you, this man, who often extended his hand to you to hold on whenever you felt anxious, this man,  who jot down notes of what you like and dislike so that he’s reminded of how to please you, this man, who made sure to put your safety above his own even though he knows you could fully fend for yourself, this man, who didn’t even need to ask you what you’d order because he knew it at heart, was now ordering your go-to meal at café lucerne as you wait for him patiently under the shade. 

he expressed his adoration for you on several occasions, but you weren’t the type to assume things, so you merely brushed off some of his advances. a couple of months have passed since you first set foot on fontaine, and now you were having an afternoon snack session with ‘your partner in crime’.

you’d be lying if you said that you hadn’t fallen for the charming young man, but you were too scared to even explore that kind of field as you knew nothing compared to him. 

oh but was he gentle. he was patient with you even though he would get ahead of himself sometimes and overwhelm you with his overly affectionate personality. you knew you’d already fallen. you were just in denial. you thought that once you’ve explored fontaine enough, you would bid him farewell as you move on to the next region. part of you thought that maybe it was all just an act too; he did say that he mastered the art of deception—and yet, then again, who were you to even question his motives when he’s been nothing but sweet and supportive towards you?

that’s right. he would never do such a thing, would he? 

you glanced over at the male who was on his way to your table as he held the tray with your food, a smile plastered on his face. “i got you your favorite, my treat.” he smiled cheekily as he carried your order and placed it on your side of the table. “thank you,” you replied with a warm smile.

this man would never hurt me. you thought sincerely as you watched him cutely munch on his favorite snack-o-bites. “these turn out perfect no matter how many times they make this, i swear.” lyney groaned in delight as he ate his food. you couldn’t help but look at the young magician in front of you with loving eyes, as if you were put in a trance.

lyney, yet again, noticed how your eyes looked at him with so much warmth, with made him lightly blush. “take a picture, it lasts longer.” he teased to illicit a reaction out of you, but an idea erupted from your systems as if a light bulb had suddenly appeared out of no where. 

you rummaged through your belongings and sought out the kamera that you got from a wandering trader during previous expeditions. once you found it, you showed it to lyney and he almost spit out his food. “my..! a kamera!” he said in astonishment as he examined the mechanical object. “you’re right, taking a picture would last longer.” you say as you press a button, which automatically linked to the shutter. lyney was unprepared and he whined that you take another one, but you thought he looked cute in the candid photo that you took. 

he got his revenge by snatching the kamera away from you and taking candid photos of you too, except he didn’t show you the shots he took. he hid the pictures in his top hat and they disappeared to archon knows where. 

you spent more time with lyney that afternoon until the night was starting to fall. as usual, you expected to temporarily say goodbye to each other as you had other things to attend to during this hour, but lyney stopped you from your tracks by grabbing hold of your arm.

“wait.” he called out to you, which made you turn your head back to face him. “mhm?” you hummed as you looked at him with expecting eyes. lyney was fidgeting and he looked askance. it was almost as if he was itching to tell you something. “what is it, lyney?” you asked the ash blonde as you lay your hand on top of his, wondering what was going on in his mind right now as he avoided eye contact with you.

“lyney?” you called out to him for the umpteenth time, snapping him out of his trance, his attention now darted to you as he flashed you an apologetic smile. he hesitated for a bit to answer, until he finally responded, “it’s nothing, ma chérie. i apologize, i just stalled for a bit because i wanted to see your face one more time before you go.” he said in his usual ecstatic tone, but something about it put you off. was it the way he adjusted his glove? he usually does this whenever he’s nervous about something. you were about to ask him about it until you saw his twin walking towards you.

“lyney. let’s go.” lynette alerted the magician as she tapped him lighty on his back, which startled lyney. “lynette–! don’t startle me like that…” lyney sighed as he rubbed the back of his palm. lynette peaked over his shoulder and tipped her head forward to you as a form of greeting, “traveler.”

“lynette, good evening.” you smiled at the girl. lynette nods in acknowledgement before side-eying her twin sibling. he looks back at her and squints his eyes with a frown, earning a furrowed and confused look from lynette. lyney bit his lower lip due to impatience which made his sister sigh.

you had no idea what they were doing but you only guessed that they were telepathically communicating with one another. 

“are you two doing good?” you took a step forward and looked at the twins with worry. Lynette looked at you for a good two seconds before speaking up, “traveler, listen–” she was cut off immediately by lyney, who oh-so-dramatically looked at the clock before exclaiming “oh would you look at the time, we are running late lynette!! we must hurry!!!” he yelled in a panicked frenzy as he packed up his bags before running to who knows where. lynette could only play along with her sibling as she waved you goodbye. “apologies, traveler. we have urgent matters to attend to.” she bowed before turning her heel and running after her brother.

“...what was that about?” you mumbled to yourself, feeling a lump of uneasiness form internally. you could only watch the siblings run off into the distance; the farther they got, the harder it was to spot them as their figures turned into dots.

something about this felt wrong.

something about this felt really wrong.

although lyney had offered to lend you a helping hand on your adventures, you can’t help but notice how there would be times when he’d zone out. he would stare intently at an inanimate object, his eyes clouded with an unexplainable expression. whenever you try calling him out, he snaps out of it as if he wasn’t disassociating a few minutes ago. 

you loved spending time with him, but oftentimes you felt as if he was wearing a mask. he would never tell you what troubled him even though you, yourself have been vulnerable in front of him on several occasions. you’ve already talked so much about yourself only to realize that lyney hadn’t shared any of his past with you either. he only listened to your stories.

this realization made a wave of guilt wash over you—you didn’t want to seem like you didn’t care about him at all—so you tried asking about him too whenever you got the chance to. with no luck, you got nothing out of him. indeed, he answered your questions, but it was too vague. it’s like he was hiding something a whole lot more the more you pry into his life. 

you couldn’t fully understand the magician. he would always put up a high-spirited front with that exhilarating personality of his, and yet something about his unwavering happy-go-lucky personality grew wary of what the ash blonde was really thinking from time to time. 

unlike his sister, he was evasive when it came to personal questions. lynette was the blunt and honest type, but for some reason, lyney’s so-called ‘honesty’ felt as if it was laced with a heavy lot of sugarcoating. he hasn’t done anything wrong to upset you. in fact, he seemed like the perfect candidate for a love interest had you ever even thought about entering a relationship with him. and yet here you are, left alone in the pouring rain after lyney left you abruptly for unknown circumstances. 

lyney was accompanying you during a commission sent by navia, the spina di rosula president, and things were going well. all you had to do was find clues in regard to the innocence of callas, the late founder of the organization. just as you were about to head back to their headquarters to retrieve and report the data you’ve gathered, lyney abruptly excused himself and left the scene. 

you had no idea what came over the young man, but you only assumed that he had other urgent matters to attend to. he has already done more than enough to help you, after all. so who were you to stop him from leaving?

even still, ithe way he left was rather off-putting. during your way back, you noticed that he felt out of reach; he zoned out often and looked restless. you have no clue as to what triggered him into this state—you asked if he was doing alright, but he only smiled in response and gave you a false thumbs up so you could stop worrying about him. 

you couldn’t recall the first time he started acting distant despite being so close to you. but one thing you knew for sure was that he had a couple of failed attempts into telling you something only for him to change his mind and change the topic immediately. 

you and your deluded self thought that maybe he was trying to confess to you, but you weren’t dumb enough to know that this situation couldn’t be applied to the way he was acting toward you. lyney sure did act head over heels for you, and you admit, you were smitten by the young man who often performed magic shows in the opera epiclese, but you just couldn’t shake the feeling of uneasiness as you talk to him sometimes.

being with him is like painting on a blank canvas with a transparent medium. you see so much room for endless possibilities, and your imagination envisions all kinds of art forms that you could interpret onto the canvas. you stroke your brushes to create the perfect picture you’ve idealized but then, you come to a realization that none of the strokes you’ve made were rendered. you shrug the idea off, thinking that this isn’t a big deal, so you try again. the result remains the same. no matter how much you paint, nothing blooms out of the canvas, and yet it still stands proudly in all its glory. you try dipping your brush in vibrant colors, but no matter what you do, nothing slips through the seams of his never-ending depth of hollowness.

there were times when he’d be hot, but then he’d grow cold. he’d shower you with warmth one day only to leave you questioning what you’ve possibly done wrong the next as he acts indifferent. you were starting to get bothered by this, and you wanted to confront him if he continued this further because your mind was going all around the place.

is this what it’s like to fall in love? you were a traveler. an outsider, even. you had to embrace different cultures and embark on journeys with unfamiliar faces everywhere. you, too, were scared, but you had no choice but to plow through just so you could see your sibling again. never in a million years did you imagine yourself being so…caught up over a man.

without even noticing it, your mood depended on his. lyney was like a firework; he was so beautiful and yet so out of reach. no matter how much warmth he showers your way, no matter how much color he brings into your life, he will remain distant despite being so out in the open. the closer you try to get, the more you get burnt with the reality of his facade. 

everything about him bothered you; the way his lips curled into a smile, the way his eyes sparkled with passion every time he performed his magic shows, the way his laughter sounded like symphonies resonating in an orchestra, the way he treated you gently and cares greatly for his people, the way he made it known to the crowd that you were his rainbow rose, the way he touched you gently with his soft and meticulous hands as he dived into your soul with his hypnotizing eyes… 

fuck. 

you were no longer in denial. 

you adored lyney. you liked everything about lyney. you longed to see him again, you longed to be within his vicinity once more. only he was able to break your walls and make you spiral like this.

was this why your heart felt so restless every time you were separated from each other? the last time you felt this way was the day you washed up ashore in mondstat with your sibling nowhere in sight. ‘that explains a lot…’ you sigh to yourself as you feel your heart breathe in relief as you finally admit to yourself the feelings that you kept hidden for so long. 

you brushed aside the worries that crept onto you earlier. ‘there’s no need to be negative, maybe he’s not ready to say what’s on his mind yet’. that’s right. you shouldn’t rush him into opening up. being there for him is the least that you could do for him, so you figured to be more patient and supportive towards him. 

you could only hope that your sincerity would reach him.

a few days have passed since you last encountered lyney at café lucerne. your days at fontaine were coming to a halt soon as you needed to depart to your next destination; natlan. you’ve stayed in fontaine for almost a year, and you hadn’t noticed how quickly time was passing by. it was all thanks to that young magician who made your stay here worthwhile though. 

you’ve gained a sufficient amount of intel. luckily enough, the hydro archon was accommodating to your inquiries. the abyss seemed to have a strong chokehold on your sibling though, as deinsleif reappeared to venture with you in one of your adventures to unveil the secrets of the prophecy that lay within fontaine. 

the grind never stops—or so paimon says.

you were scheduled to leave a few days from now, as requested by katheryn. you were in love with lyney—to which you can finally admit to yourself proudly—but this wouldn’t stop you from finishing what you’ve started. you’ve rested long and well enough, as well as succumbed to your hidden desires. it was time to move to the next region.

you already told the twins about the date of your departure, and they wished for your safety. lyney still looked restless. he looked even more restless than the last time you’ve seen him to be honest. he asked lynette to leave the room for a bit so he could talk to you alone in the meantime.

he had a frown on his face but you only smiled meekly at him, reasoning that you’re a traveler for a reason and that you shouldn’t overstay. he knew this all along but asked for one condition. 

“can we meet up one more time before you go? just you and i, and maybe even lynette, with no one else intervening,” he asked with pleading eyes as he trailed his finger on your hands gently. you shivered from his touch. 

“of course, where would you like to rendezvous?” he chuckled at your terminology. “at the usual spot. 7 pm sharp.” you smiled before holding out your pinky promise, mimicking paimon’s actions the day before you departed for fontaine. “deal.” he smiled back and intertwined his pinky with yours. 

“i’ll give you a show that you’ll never forget even as you go on your adventures in far and distant lands. you won’t have a choice other than to think about me.” he determinedly states as he locks his violet hues with your crystalline orbs. you laugh at his sentiments, unbeknownst to the weight that his words hold.

“i swear to archons lyney, if you perform one more lousy disappearance act,” you teased as you let out a melodic laugh. lyney scoffed playfully before responding, “that wasn’t even considered as an act! i can do something way better than that.” you raise one of your brows, intrigued by his statement. “oh yeah? like what?” you mused, crossing your arms as your body unconsciously leaned forward toward him. 

lyney gives you an unreadable look before he quickly snaps out of his daze and shakes his head lightly. he faintly smiled before saying, “you’ll see.”

some time has passed, and it was already the night of your supposed meet-up. the day that followed would be the day when you bid adieu to fontaine. 

you pushed through the grand entrance of the opera eclipse; it was the usual spot. the very spot where you first felt your heart yearn for lyney, and the very place where you had your first kiss stolen.

you came alone as requested. paimon stayed behind at the hotel to catch some z’s before your long journey tomorrow. 

oddly enough though, a different guard asked for your identity for security. he wore the standard protocol uniform, but it was an unfamiliar face—barely recognizable. he wore a black-feathered mask that covered the tip of his nose, almost like the kinds you’d see at masquerade balls. lyney did mention that this night would be different from his previous shows.

“you must be the traveler, come in. your seat is on the front row, right in the dead center.” he said in a low but welcoming voice. you tipped your head as a way of showing your thanks as he led you to your seat. the lights were dimmer than what you were accustomed to. what caught your attention more though was the fact that everyone in the theatre wore the same mask as the security guard. there were only a few people including you, but they were scattered throughout the area. they all had their attention focused on the stage.

weird. maybe this was part of the show.you start growing anxious as to what kind of show that sly magician would perform today. the last time he asked you to come here alone led to a steamy makeout session in the middle of the stage with the spotlight centered on the two of you. just the two of you, with your lips on his. you had no idea how he was able to keep people from entering, but he reasoned that he needed to occupy the area on his own to make safety measures for his “equipment”, but all he did was savor you and your sweetness.

you shake your head lightly at the memory, your cheeks turn a bright red. 

your heart starts pounding with every second that passed. the show still hadn’t started yet as the curtains blocked the view of the main stage, but you really couldn’t help but wonder what lyney had prepared for you today. 

was he finally going to confess? maybe even ask you to be his? could it be that he orchestrated this show only as an excuse to take you by the hand and court you properly before you depart for tomorrow?

your lips unconsciously curl into a smile as you daydream about the what-ifs in your head. it was cut off shortly though by a familiar voice you heard from the loudspeaker as it reverberated in the room.

“once upon a time, there was once a blonde traveler who traversed through teyvat for what seemed like decades in hopes to find their long lost sibling.” lyney began with a story-telling tone laced with his voice. your ears immediately perk up at his narration. a bright light shone upon the stage which revealed shadow puppets of you and paimon’s figure wandering around the globe to match his lines. you marveled at the sight.

“but after region hopping for so long, the blonde traveler decides to rest in the land of justice where they meet a peculiar magician who accidentally bumped into them by the harbor.” the shadow puppets reinacted your first encounter with each other, which made you giggle in response. 

is this how he’s going to confess to me? you wondered amusingly, feeling touched by his efforts as you listened further to his dialogue.

“the magician noticed the traveler trying to hide their identity, and he used this to his advantage to tease them. the traveler, now shocked, asked him in a state of panic how he found out. he laughed in response and pointed out that their hood slipped off, and that he could easily recognize them, even from afar.” the shadow puppets played the same exact scenario and waited for the next signal.

“he then invited them to watch his show at the opera theatre. little did the blonde traveler know what they had in store for them.” you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion with the last sentence, curious as to where this was going.

“he fell for their wits, and was charmed by their unwavering bravery. even as they brushed his advances off, he never stopped doting on them.” he was practically confessing at this point, and you felt your cheeks grow warm.

“the magician performed all sorts of tricks; making things appear and disappear was an easy task for him as he excelled in this expertise,” as if on cue, the curtain slowly unveils lyney’s figure with a microphone in hand. he took a deep breath as he locks eye contact with you before continuing, “but the only thing that he cant get to disappear is the thought of you.” 

your eyes widened as you behold the sight in front of you. lyney wasn’t wearing his usual attire, he was wearing a black tuxedo suit. his red bowtie was still evident, but his noticeable top hat and cape were nowhere in sight. he was breathtaking. 

“he fell in love with the traveler for each day that passed by, and he could tell that the traveler was starting to develop feelings for him too.” he extended his arms and got a pair of scissors, his swift hands gracefully cutting over the edges of the folded paper which then revealed the two of their silhouettes dancing with your arms around him. 

you recall when that event happened. it was during that one time you visited the siblings in their home but only lyney was home despite lynette calling you over for dinner. you figured that they must’ve schemed this because lyney didn’t question nor look for them as you arrived, you only spent the night dancing to some tunes and learning more about each other.

“everything was going all according to plan,” he paused for a bit as he took out the same exact mask that everyone was wearing from his pocket. “until he got sick of playing pretend.” his intonation changed from an exhilarating tone to a monotonous underglow. it was heavy and merciful. “true to his word, he did perform something even greater than a lousy disappearance act.” he scoffed before continuing, “in fact, it was all premeditated. all the traveler had to do was wait and see, just as he said.”

“just make sure you don’t perform a lousy disappearing act again.” you jokingly said while nudging his arm, which made him hum in response, his eyes glowered as he repositioned his top hat back on his head. 

“i’ll do something greater than that, ma chérie. just wait and see.” 

your smile fell as you recalled his words. from the looks of it, the atmosphere had a thick tension that made you uneasy. his words contradicted the way he behaved around you previously. for some reason, you didn’t feel safe here. your gut was telling you to leave, that something bad was about to happen if you’d stayed and listened longer, but your feet remained in place as you watched the performer in front of you, still at a loss for words as the weight of the air suffocated you.

“i can see that look on your face. you’re confused—terrified, even.” he trails off as he takes a glance at your disheveled state before chuckling darkly. “so let me clarify everything before the actual play begins.” he flashes you a close-eyed smile before placing one hand to his chest and the other is extended as he bows down to you in a curtsey.

“lyney…” you called out to him, barely above a whisper. you tried to get up from your seat to reach out to him, but you were abruptly stopped by the impact of your wrists being bound to the arms of the chair. “lyney, this isn’t funny. cut it out.” you say as you break out an awkward laugh, trying to break free from the cuffs that binded you from your freedom. 

you heard minor scuffles around you which made you turn your head to see where it was coming from. the sight made you widen your eyes; the few people in the opera house was now lined up in two columns by the main door. “lyney, you’re scaring me. what’s going on??” you asked the ash blonde. he doesn’t even bother to spare you a look as he remains still in his curtsey pose.

“lyney!!” you yelled out. this must be a silly prank, right? there’s no reason for him to scare you like this…right??? right. this was just part of the show. none of this is real. none of this is real. none of this is real. none of this is re-

“ma chérie.” lyney spoke with authority in his voice before finally shifting his gaze towards you. his eyes were slit that of a feline as he hushed you with his presence. he sighed as he finally stood upright, fixing the collar of his suit in the process as he spoke, “i was tasked by father to approach you. he told me to get close to you by using any means necessary and find out your weaknesses. do not get me wrong, i enjoyed our adventures. I enjoyed having you keep me company as well.” 

“but what i haven’t told you the first time we met was that i, too, have hid my true identity from you. allow me to introduce myself again. i, lyney from the house of the hearth, humbly greets you.”

your eyes looked at him in horror as the image you carefully crafted of him your head shattered. your heart ached at the deception he conjured for you. “you’re a fatui…?” your voice croaked in disbelief as you desperately searched his eyes for the truth. your mind wavered as you clung onto your delusions, hoping deep down inside that this was all just a skit, but his silence spoke volumes.

“so everything was a lie…?” tears brimmed from your eyes as you looked at the man whom you loved with so much heartbreak. he bit his lip in contempt as he saw you in that state. lynette then emerged from the shadows and gave her twin sibling a pat on his back before he faced away from you. he couldn’t see you cry, it would weaken his resolve.

“not everything, traveler.” lynette spoke on behalf of her sibling. she, too, wasn’t wearing her usual attire. she had her hair down and her ribbon was placed neatly on one side of her head. she was wearing a beautiful black dress that reached just below her knee and she was also wearing the same exact mask that lyney was wearing.

“this idiotic brother of mine took the words by any means necessary quite too literally. he was not supposed to be intimate towards you. father graciously forbid him from overstepping his boundaries.” lynette deadpanned as she glanced at her brother. he was trying so hard to keep up a front; he was slightly trembling, but only lynette can tell. “he fell for you gradually even though he was the one who initiated everything. believe me when i say that all of his efforts for you were sincere.” lynette says firmly as she places her right hand in her chest. it was a mannerism that she often did whenever she was being honest, but you could only scoff at her words.

“that doesn’t change the fact that you two deceived me!!” you yelled in protest as you struggled to break free from the binds that kept you tied down the chair. “had i known you were part of the fatui, i would’ve never allowed myself to have my life here in fontaine revolve around you two!” you yelled angrily as tears rolled down your cheeks,  “had i known you were part o the fatui, i would’ve never allowed myself to be held by you…!” you continued. your words shot daggers into lyney’s heart as it ached as much as yours did. 

“ma chérie, i apologize for making you second-guess about everything. i had no choice but to do this. father was getting impatient, and this is my only way of repaying him back after everything he’s done for lynette and i.” he admitted, finally facing you. as if his deception didn’t hurt enough, his cold gaze towards you seemed to hurt more ten times fold. 

“If that was the case, then why did you have to make me fall for you…?” your voice weakened as tears profusely streamed down your cheeks. lynette was taken aback by your emotional demeanor. she was an observant but quiet person, so she knew just as much as her brother knew that you weren’t the type to pour your emotions out like this. she felt a pang of guilt through her chest as she side-eyed her twin sibling. he was holding back his tears as well, but he didn’t falter.

“if keeping an eye on me to find out my weaknesses was all that you were tasked to do, why did you have to make me like you so much that it hurt???” you exclaimed as you sniffled. this really wasn’t your look. you hated how you were pouring your heart out to the twins who had ulterior motives towards you all along, but you couldn’t help it. you were hurt, you felt betrayed, and more importantly, you felt conflicted with yourself. you were spiraling internally as flashbacks of him and you played like a broken record. 

you looked at lyney for a brief moment, still hoping he’d take back everything he said just now. you still clinged on so tightly to what you thought he was rather than focusing on who he really was right now as he stood before you. 

lyney let out a sigh as he bowed down, “i have no excuses. I apologize, ma chérie.”  you scoff as you feel yourself getting irritated by his response. “don’t call me by that endearment anymore.” you whimpered as you lay your head on the headrest, feeling defeated. 

that’s it?... you’re not going to say anything else?! you let out a breath of disbelief. your eyes filled with tears, your body carrying the weight of the sorrows of your heartbreak. 

this hurts. oh lord barbatos, please, i can’t do this anymore. how can the blissful feelings of love do a 180 and pierce you with no remorse after you’ve committed to the feeling? please rid me of this unwanted emotion, it hurts. why did it have to end up like this? have i softened too much to have my guard lowered down to this extent? why must i bear the consequences of heartbreak when i’ve been the one who’s peace has been threatened…?

you were speechless. you hated this. you can’t believe that you allowed yourself to be caught by the fatui all because you lowered your guard down and fell in love. this was absurd. you can’t even find the energy to fight off these restraints that held you down because your energy has depleted. it's as if he sucked out the life force remaining in you out of you.

upon seeing your quiet state, lyney called out to you with a worried tone as he took a step and reached out to you as he spoke, “ma chérie, i-” “i hate you. don’t you dare call me by that stupid endearment ever again.” you bitterly spoke, avoiding to look him in the eyes. “i apologize, i was supposed to tell you everything soon but-” “so that explains why you kept zoning out before…” you say in deep thought, feeling a wave of emotions flow into your system.

“yes, please believe me, i wanted to come clean, but i feared you would avoid me if i did and i got scared. i-” “you had so many chances to tell me. had you told me sooner, i would’ve understood you better. but no, you just had to put on a fake play for me to witness.” 

“i’ll give you a show that you’ll never forget even as you go on your adventures in far and distant lands. you won’t have a choice other than to think about me.” he determinedly states as he locks his violet hues with your crystalline orbs. 

“so this is what you meant by giving me a show i’ll never forget, huh?” you laugh dryly with venom trailing behind your words. 

“traveler…” lyney reaches out to you once again to try and reconcile but he stops midway as he sensed a threat coming towards their way. 

“GUARDS!! SEIZE THOSE PREPOSTOROUS TWINS IMMEDIATELY!” the hydro archon barges in and yells with an army of policemen. they quickly cuff the false crowd as they enter. you sigh in relief upon seeing paimon flying beside furina as she searches for you in the room. “over there furina, the traveler is seated in front!!” paimon exclaims as she points to you, they immediately rush over to where you are. 

you look back on stage to give one more glance at the twins but just as how they were clever magicians, they were gone before you knew it. 

paimon and furina quickly rush over to you. “traveler!! are you alright?” paimon worriedly says as she hugs you. you meekly shake your head as tears are still spewing from your eyes. Furina looks over your broken-down state and notices the shackles that bind you. “let me help you with that.” furina says as she uses her vision to break you free. “th..ank you” you whisper softly, chest heaving from the hurt.

“you poor thing… we’re sorry we hadn’t come sooner.” furina embraces you into a hug and pats your back before continuing, “those phonies ran away before we could catch them!! this is so infuriating!!” paimon stomped her feet in the air as she brushed the loose strands of your hair. 

“how did you two know i was in danger…?” you sniffed as you touched the light bruise marks on your wrists. “freminet told us everything. he’s now being held under my protection from the fatui.” furina says as she lifts you up from your chair. “so even he knew about this…?” you say in disbelief, heart weighing even more burden than it already did.

“it’s a good thing they didn’t take you away yet. their ‘father’ or rather, a high-ranked harbinger was supposed to walk down that door to take you to archon knows where but lyney hadn’t given her the signal yet. she’s still here somewhere, we just don’t know where.” furina explained. “what?” you furrowed your brows in confusion. 

he had so many opportunities to send that go signal, and yet why didn’t he? you were lost in thought as you thought of possible reasons as to why he didn’t call his “father” as soon as he got you distracted. but as your mind was going around in laps, a voice erupted.

“pardon me, i think this is for you.” one of the guards excused himself as he stood by furina and handed you an envelope. you opened it and saw the card had the silhouette of you and lyney dancing together on the main cover—it was the same one he cut out earlier on stage, except there was a queen of hearts logo on the opposite sides. you felt your heart ache as you flipped the other side to see his small writing. 

“to my dear chérie, i’ve wronged you in many ways and left you with so many questions. indeed, our encounter was not fate but was strings pulled together to make whatever we had happen. i am no innocent man, but i’ve never shed blood other than mine. would you forgive this poor soul of mine for deceiving you? a magician i am, but at the end of the day, im just lyney; the same lyney who hand-picked rainbow roses just because it reminded him of you.

i grew tired of playing pretend. i fessed up to father how i could no longer carry out the mission as i knew i would only hurt you deeply—it hurts me too that i have to do this to you. father wasn’t pleased with this. he demanded that i cut off ties with you immediately after seeing my weakness becoming your entirety. believe me, i’ve always wanted to tell you the truth, but how could i after seeing that bright smile of yours? how could i shatter the excitement in your eyes as you looked at me oh so lovingly? you were too good for this world, and i wouldn’t want to be the cause of your tears; even now as i write this, my heart aches at just the thought of you trembling once you find out that i’ve conned you into winning your heart.

i understand that you no longer wish to see me again after i’ve wore countless of masks to hide my true intentions to you for every minute we spent together, but just know this, mon amour. 

te rencontrer a été le meilleur miracle qui soit jamais arrivé dans ma vie. j'avais l'habitude de regarder les roses arc-en-ciel de loin, admirant la beauté de tout cela, jusqu'à ce que tu descendes du ciel et apportes de la couleur à ma toile vierge. les roses arc-en-ciel ne pouvaient plus se comparer à votre beauté irisée. même le soleil devient jaloux de votre rayonnement. je t'aime et je t'aimerai toujours.

let your tears no longer cascade on that delicate skin of yours. when our paths cross once more and if destiny allows me to, i’ll tell you everything you’ve always wanted to know. at the usual spot, from years on end.

until we meet again, ma chérie.”

lyney was truly a magician at best; he disappeared into the seams of the night and left no traces of him behind as you grieve for his absence and sins. you often joked around at how he shouldn’t do a lousy disappearance trick the next time that he performs in the opera epiclese, but it seems as though he took those words to his grave as he proved that he can commit to greater feats. 

and that feat involved having you rid of him from your life. 

[scretladyspider]

please don’t scroll; I really need your help to reach my gofundme goal of $3500 and not become homeless.

Im Elle, a queer, ace, disabled person with ADHD, depression, and two cats. In November, I lost my job without warning. I have no savings as the job already had me living to the last dollar of every paycheck. I was denied unemployment and food stamps. I cannot work away from home, a physical job, or something with strict hours due to some yet-to-be-diagnosed illness.

this is my story — what’s going on & how I got here. (Smaller text used because it’s a lot of information/a long post.)

In early 2018, I was doing regular walk/runs. In 2019, I stopped being able to run, so I went on walks. Running took hours, then days, to recover from. My body couldn’t produce energy to do it consistently, so, walks. In 2020, I kept going on walks and tried to do aerobics. I was not able to keep doing aerobics. My body took hours upon hours to recover, where before it hadn’t, I was alone for almost all of 2020, and never developed COVID symptoms; it was what happened with running all over again. In 2021, it started to take more time to recover from walks. Then I started to need to take a nap immediately after I clocked out from work— and it was a work from home job. In 2022, I began to go from my sitting desk job straight to my bed most days, laying down exhausted right after work, even sleeping through lunch to get some rest.

On New Year's Eve 2023, I spent 30 minutes cleaning, including vacuuming my living room. I had to rest the rest of the day.

In the last five years, I've gone from running to being exhausted for hours by taking my garbage to the curb.

Imagine you were someone who enjoyed recreational exercise. Now imagine doing 1/100th of that and feeling sick for days. Thats me.

There are other symptoms also. More vulnerability to infection and more trouble fighting infection. Shooting, sharp muscle pains in large muscles such as the thigh or forearm, like a pinched nerve, that come and go at random. Pulse rate that skyrockets upon standing, to go back to normal soon after. Stomach inflammation. Inflammation without major swelling. Headaches. Complete inability to tolerate heat, leading to excruciating migraines that only go away with things like cold showers, electrolytes, and hours of rest in the dark with ice. Muscles that literally don't feel like they're getting oxygen. Random rashes. Face flushing. Being much more easily out of breath, yawning over and over, like I can't get air correctly. Weight gain, no matter what I eat or don't eat.

And just being so, so tired.

In summer of 2018, something… stopped working in my body. I felt sick all the time. I had a low, unexplainable fever nearly every day. Shooting nerve pain would wake me up at night. The doctor said I had a cold. But months went by and I didn’t get better. When my blood work and thyroid hormone level was normal, I was referred to a rheumatologist.

I was diagnosed with fibromyalgia after he made me wait 45 minutes, came in and asked “are you tired?", poked me hard, said I was tender, and left without running tests. This sort of “uhm the standard blood work came back normal, have you tried exercising more? I know you’re here because your body can’t recover from it but have you tried more of that? Also going to sleep at night?” has been the response over and over and over for five years. It got to the point where I even started to wonder if I was somehow making it up. I see a psych nurse. She thinks there's more than just depression, ADHD, and other things - though we both agree that managing those is vital too. She used to be a cardiologist, so this is reassuring. But when I have tried to see other doctors, it goes differently. Most of the time they see I have ADHD, a long history of depression, and hypermobile joints, and say that explains everything. I can't count how many times I've been told "well, you have depression” when the labs, if they even agreed to run them, came back normal. My standard blood work sometimes comes back with anemia, but I take an iron supplement. No improvement had come of it. I’ve had my thyroid hormone levels tested over and over, but never the antibodies. No imaging or referrals have happened, outside of one to a second rheumatologist. He ran no tests either; he just saw my joints are hypermobile and I was “sure taking a lot of mental health medications” (two at the time), and… that was that.

I had given up on actually even getting help until my SIL recommended a doctor she knew. For the first time in five years, when the standard blood work and TSH tests were normal, she told me we would keep looking. I actually cried with relief at that. It’s amazing to be believed after all this time.

Because of …. All of this, I'm trying to figure out how to either work for myself or find a work from home job that has flexible hours I can choose. I literally wouldn't be able to work a retail gig where I have to stand for eight hours, or even a 9-5 where I have to be there for those exact hours, because my body cannot do that right now. I want to get better but it's a long way off. First I need to know what's even wrong. I'm praying for a diagnosis soon. And treatment. At the least, management.

I have heard of EDS and I have been evaluated. I apparently don’t meet enough criteria, hence the diagnosis of JHS instead. It’s in the same family. I have also heard of POTS. I am pursuing testing. Same with Chronic Fatigue Syndrome, MCAS, fibromyalgia… yeah. The thing is nothing outside of the standard blood count and thyroid hormone level test, no other lab tests have been done. There are so many things this could be that have never been checked. Lyme disease, for example, is extremely common where I live (it’s actually just extremely common worldwide) and matches much of my experience, but 1) in the USA the initial Lyme test relies on a strain of bacteria cultured in the 80s 2) there are over 100 strains of Lyme disease in the USA 3) in spite of decades of research there are doctors who don’t believe chronic Lyme exists 4) no doctor has ever checked and I only recently learned anything about it so I never asked. But… there are a lot of things to check that I’ve never had checked is my point. Fingers crossed someone can help me get there.

I do not have a partner who can try to support me through this, and my family already supports me however they can. My severance (which was low as I found out I was being paid much less than the rest of the team later) paid only my January rent.

Since my ability to work is severely limited right now, and I've been denied unemployment and food stamps, and I would need a diagnosis and to be awarded disability benefits in court (which can take YEARS that I don’t have), I have nothing in savings because of years of underpaying jobs the cost of living and being disabled and going through prior periods of unemployment due to this and other factors, I am left in a tough spot without help. Without this help, this gofundme... I have nothing.

So... here I am. A queer nonbinary disabled neurodivergent writer, trying my best, living with some undiagnosed illness that's severely impacted my ability to function, who got fired without real reasons (in America they can just do that to you without even telling you why), asking for your help to pay my February rent and January bills so I don’t repeat the trauma of being homeless. Or for you to reblog this.

Thank you for reading all of this.

It’s been on my chest for a long time. Even if it wasn’t for the gofundme, it feels good to talk about and be honest about my health. It reminds me you’re not supposed to feel like this all the time when I tell other people and they tell me I should get help and deserve answers. It’s reassuring to see competent doctors who finally believe me. I hope we figure it out.

no donation is too small— they add up. If just 100 people gave $35, the goal would be met. Sharing is also giving— it means someone who can help is more likely to see it.

You can also help via my venmo — secretladyspider

CashApp — secretladyspider

or find PayPal in my tip jar in my linktree

Goal is $3500 or over. Funds needed ASAP. If it goes over, that’ll help with February.

Thank you for anything and everything.

[dokidokitsuna]

Slowly, I think I’m getting a handle on this…I tried studying the character art from my favorite dead MMORPG, Maple Story 2, and I think it helped me find a style for the shading and rendering that’s more dramatic but still sort of cartoony.

Plus, I’ve been doing a bit of script writing, which always helps me figure things out. ^^ So please enjoy the additional work I’ve done on these character concepts.

-Between these two, Magolor definitely needed the most work: you can tell because I basically drew a full character design sheet, which is something I almost never do because I don’t like repetition. XP But it doesn’t feel repetitive when I’m totally lost to begin with. ^^; I think I got a little too abstract that first time I drew him, so my focus here was to figure out the specific shape of his body and rebuild outward from there. In stark contrast to my usual Magolor designs, he’s very tall and muscular, with an imposing silhouette (especially with his cape on). Yes, he IS hiding something under all those purple bandages, but we won’t talk about it today. ;)

-I also like that his outfit gets darker the further inside you go, from the solid white cape and glittering chains, to the silver armor and gray scarves, to the skintight navy blue fit underneath. Symbolism??? Perhaps~

-Blade’s design was already pretty solid, so I just adjusted her cape a little, and then dove straight into the Rainbow Malady concept art. ^^ Phase 1 has her sprout a second eye and wings on one side of her face. Her head catches fire, as the power of the Rainbow Sword attempts to ‘burn away the darkness’. In this phase, Blade is already in a lot of pain, but remains fully conscious and can even speak, when she isn’t coughing up multicolored blood. She can recover from this on her own with a day of rest. Phase 2 is much more serious, forcing her organs outside of her body, and growing star-shaped welts over the rest of her skin. At this point, she can no longer recover without Magolor’s help-- essentially, he uses magic to shove all her organs back where they belong and stitch up the open wounds. It’s like setting a bone after it’s broken-- just as painful as the injury itself (if not more), but necessary for proper healing…which takes about a week.  Phase 3 is the last and worst, transforming her arms into elongated wings and her whole body into burning plasma, on top of all the issues from Phase 2. Thankfully, she can’t really remain conscious in this phase-- she’s usually delirious from fever, blood loss, and her brain literally burning away. ^^; Storywise, she needs about a month to recover from this, so she doesn’t use it too often…of course, as the 'player', you can put her through it as many times as you want. =T

-Fun fact, I guess: So the primary love language between these two characters is food. ^^ I was musing about what I could do with a protagonist arc centered around worsening illness (which is…surprisingly rare), and I thought, “so what do you do for sick people? You put them to bed, you manage their symptoms, you clean and comfort them…and most importantly, you feed them.” And then ^that little doodle basically came to me in a dream, and from there evolved the idea of Magolor showing kindness to Blade by cooking for her.

Most of the time, the little affection Magolor shows to Blade is…basically performative. Think of it like a hammy supervillain petting their cat-- it’s more of a character stim than anything else. ^^; The way Magolor talks to Blade (and especially the way he talks about her…) makes it clear that the hand-holding and headpats don’t mean much.

But on the other hand, giving Blade food and watching her cutely devour it, especially during the times when she’s bed-ridden and he doesn’t see her as often…I like to think that might genuinely endear her to him a little, enough to make it a sort of stand-out gesture. Like, if he strokes her forehead when she’s sick, that’s whatever; but when he spends 5 hours making a Maxim tomato consommé for her to eat, that’s him trying to say he cares. Maybe it’s just a tiny bit, maybe it’s just in that moment, but a small part of him truly wants her to be happy.

[cuupidsss]

Can I request an sbg x fem reader one-shot who has the powers of winter from aespa's new Supernova mv in the phantom world, but the drawback is that she gets sick and vomits blood + she has lucky girl syndrome (which means she's lucky asf)

Or

A sbg x gn reader who is like emu otori from wonderlandxshowtime and she is the captain of the dance team + and has the fighting technique of mizuki just search up "mizuki wrestler" on tiktok.

I’m doing the second one because I’m inlove with the cute theme soo.. hope you like it ^_^

— I also added the lucky girl syndrome for this cause it fits a little, I would take your first request but it takes SO MUCH more research, I’ll find a time to do it though. ❤️

How could they truly react to you? When they had first met you their first impressions went well to say the least. You were bubbly and expressive and now or less extroverted. You were giggly aswell and it was hard to deny how you were a little ditzy sometimes.

Everyday at school you were always in a good mood, they never caught you in a bad one. At first when the phantom realm thing started they thought that it didn’t happen to you. They didn’t see you for the first or second time they went, it confused them, it truly did. You went to the sorrel weed house to? So how come it didn’t affect you.

They soon came to realize that was not the case. They saw you one day, running towards them and waving. Ashlyn was the first to react, it was only a couple minutes into the second day and you were just so happy to be here? Taylor ran towards you and you both hugged, even though you all aren’t close. Tyler and Ben were more or less standing awkwardly but Tyler looked a little upset. Aiden was just being.. Aiden? He was asking you some dumb questions and poking you. Logan looked concerned but everyone was overall okay.

You were really tired, you rubbed your eyes as they asked and harassed you with their concerned. You gave them a odd face and just shrugged.

“I don’t know! Lol?” You said with a little smile, they all suddenly had straight faces and Taylor giggled at how lost you sounded. “Those blob things were scary though!” You sounded so shocked, but not scared… at all.

You guys had been going to the realm for a couple days after this silly incident and they hadn’t really seen you fight, they all figured you couldn’t, Ashlyn decided that you guys might aswell see her parents to train. It could benefit all of you.

They were shocked, very shocked. ON HOW YOU REFUSED. Why didn’t you want to do it? It would literally benefit all of them. Tyler had the most negative reaction.

“Come on, this would help all of us! You’ll just drag us down if you can’t defend yourself!” He said something like that, practically saying you were dead weight if you couldn’t be of use. It didn’t hurt you to much, you knew what he meant to say and yet it didn’t affect you.

You decided to tell them you would accompany them, and accompany you did. When they asked one more time if you wanted to take your turn at getting your ass beat you said.

“No thank you!” And smiled sheepishly, “I already have sports I do like wrestling, I don’t need to learn anymore stuff!” The whole group went silent.

“Why didn’t you tell us that before?” Tyler asked. You didn’t hear him very well, it sounded like mumbling.

“Huh? What was-“ “WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL US THAT BEFORE?” His reaction was sort of funny, but you just kind of stood there all silly and blinked sheepishly.

You and Aiden get along pretty well, but you’ve had your creative differences.

“I think it’ll look better like this!” You said, showing him the show outfit idea for your next match.

“I think you should add a bow on the chest part, like a glitter force character!” He said nonchalantly as you groaned..

“Okay, should I add glitter?” You asked, your eyes lighting up, he quickly agreed. You got for work on it immediately.

They’ve come to a couple of your wrestling matches, you joined the school club. The club wasn’t separated by genders so imagine their suprise when you took down some guy who was much taller than you with little to no effort. After the match when you met up with them the first thing you said was;

“This uniform they make us wear is so not cute! Or comfy for that matter, they only let me put some sweatpants over the bottoms. And the bottoms are so tight!” You just raged about the uniform, you looked like a sad puppy, but they you brightened up again, “were you all impressed?”

“Why don’t you do this stuff in the phantom realm?” Taylor asked with a dumbstruck face as you mimicked her and everyone went silent. Ashlyn stared at you before sighing and dismissing Taylor’s question after looking at your face.

You and Ashlyn are close aswell. The grumpy, quiet and observant with the cute, playful, ditzy one was your guys favorite stereotype. Or at least yours..?

You two are complete opposites but go so well together, the only thing she has to complain about is how you can be so, so clueless.

“What do you think, (name)?” You blinked at Ashlyn’s question and made a weird face.

“About what?” You asked scratching your neck. She stared at you for a minute befor asking;

“Are you serious?” They had just been talking about the plan and you had missed so much of it. Besides that encounter you guys get along swell.

Taylor? Taylor is your girl. Your go to bestie, your number one. She gets you, she really gets you.

“Do you like my outfit? It’s for wrestling! I have a match tonight!” She marveled at your presented outfit, you had all been hanging out at your house and you wanted to personally show Taylor your outfit, in your room while the others hangout downstairs.

“It’s so cute? How is that for wrestling?” She says, messing with the bow that Aiden insisted you add. “The bow is cute.” You deadpan.

“Yeah it’s cute I guess.” You say blushing cockily, you flip your hair dramatically as you both burst out into giggles.

Now, Logan? Logan, Logan, Logan.. how did you approach this one? Well he was a little intimidated by you, you were so bubbly, loud and creative that he just couldn’t get over how overwhelming you are.

“Logan!” You said, hugging him it was early morning and you had gotten to school early, you didn’t take the bus. You saw Logan just standing off to the side awkwardly. At first he was always put off by your affectionate nature, also how nice you were.

“(Name)?” He said, slightly hugging you back. He had seemed to have gotten used to it. It were times like now that he appreciated your personality. Ben came up beside you two and waved, you and Logan had already stopped hugging as you waved at Ben.

Ben was sweet, really sweet. When you had met Ben you were a little put off. He was kind of awkward around you, but he was also really nice to you. He never spoke, unlike you, but you seemed to get used to it just like Logan got used to you. One day you both were in the realm and you had beaten the shit out of some globs, as you like to call them. You had scrapped your ankle when you all had booked it t safety.

“Thanks Ben.” You whispered to him, while everyone conversed. He had wrapped your ankle neatly for you, you couldn’t help but smile at his generosity. He looked at you before nodding and turning his attention back to the group. He was really just shy, or was he?

Tyler was a special case. I don’t think he’d ever get used to how peppy you are. Your kind of like Aiden, it annoys him to think that.

“Tylerrrr!” You said, trying to get his attention by poking him. You guys were at lunch, you were sitting at the table together and today you had sat next to him. He had to breath in before giving you a look.

“What?” He said before looking back at his plate.

“Are you gonna eat that?“ you said, looking at his extra soda he got from the vending machine. He looked at it, he was gonna save it for his next couple classes but.. he handed it to you, without even thinking. Why didn’t he think? He just gave it to you? You took it great fully, that’s where your guys mural friendship started.

You still scare them sometimes, everyone gets scared by how reckless you are, going into battle without a second thought is dangerous. You somehow NEVER get hurt other then the ankle thing. It literally shocks them.

One time you fell out of a tree you and Aiden were messing around in and you landed on Ashlyn perfectly. You could’ve gotten hurt but you somehow landed on her in the perfect position.. how the freaky deeky?

Another extremely lucky moment was when you guys were on top of a large building and you fell off only to land on one of the window sills, somehow? Taylor had to find that window and pull you through it.

Another time you were fighting a phantom and you jumped off of a fucking refrigerator and landed your feet hit directly on top of its head as it was WALKING PAST so it was still moving!

They have never seen someone so damn lucky.

“Do you have something that makes you so lucky?” Taylor asks and suddenly everyone else started asking too.

“Yeah, even Aiden isn’t that lucky.” Ashlyn barged into the conversation.

“She’s just stupid.” Tyler says and Logan silently laughs. Ben. Sighs at the insult before you pipe up.

“I guess you could call me lucky man!” You’d say, like you’ve discovered a new species.

“Your a female.” Aiden correct.

—

That’s all I have, sorry I’m lazy and tired tday lol

[bananaactivity]

will you make au's for MBAV?

That’s a tricky one…

I’d say I more so have basic head cannons then full rewrites for MBAV. Here are some:

Ethan Morgan: His ancient ancestors who were seers developed as a weird cousin type strain whose powers developed from ancient vampires who could see glimpses of the future but slowly lost some of their vampire characteristics.

But they kept the typically pale skin, and anyone who got the domainate seer gene usually gets more years added on to their life. He can do all that jazz like in the show, and he’s very resilient to mind control or other things that disrupt the brain. ( I like to think If he was more evil he’d influence people more because seers can slightly influence people around them, think about Jasper from Twilight but for thoughts and not emotions… like a Jasper and Edward love child 💀) Ethan’s parents both had the recessive trait and his ancestory that Jessie recognized is from his mother’s side.

Ethan has a massive adoration for almost anyone who he finds to be “better” than him in all the right ways. Mainly Benny and Sarah. Benny because he’s always been by Ethan’s side with a big smile, and Sarah because she’s so sweet to everyone she knows, and becomes his really good friend. He still likes Rory but Rory’s too goofy to fall for that way( and too old) Also Jesse tortured him with the idea that his seer powers are the only thing making his friends like him by accidental influence. He knows that Ethan’s too stupid to realize that if that was the case then he would actually be popular. But Ethan angsts over that all the time. 😥

Benny Weir: Bennys magic is also a genealogical trait. It skipped his dad and went straight to him. But it’s not related to any other subspecies. ( also I don’t think Jane should get the seer trait and wizard trait, mostly because she’s literally awful, and as an oldest sibling the trope of younger sibling is an absolute rude jackass selfish nuisance is one I hate)

Bennys magic is the same as the show nothing more nothing less. But his Evil version is a reflection of something “wrong” inside of him rather then a basic evil opposite. Evil Benny is everything “wrong” with Benny reflected back into the world. He’s willing to do stuff Bennys only thought about in the recesses of his mind too. Like use really bad spells, and also maybe that’s why he’s more flirty with Ethan, maybe I dunno just a thought 🫣 but because of that that leads to EB being more of a presence to Benny. He’s always gotta think about when to pull back or what’s too far so his friends don’t look in the eyes of a remorseless monster. And you know also the whole trope of untapped raw power because you’re too righteous to use it or something.

Benny is an everybody man and a huge flirt. He may be a bit more popular than his other friends because of his charisma but he’s loyal to the weird gang tho, He loves Ethan and Rory and Sarah, in that order, that’s a direct quote from him. That’s because I can’t stand when tv shows cast charismatic and objectively cool people to play what’s supposed to be a loser that doesn’t get girls. No chance that Benny wouldn’t pull girls, it’s Rodrick Heffley all over again…

Rory Keaner: Rory is a massive goof ball and a silly goose. He loves hunting small mammals and prefers to steal blood from hospitals, “where it was just sitting there collecting dust!!” He doesn’t like actually hurting people and would prefer to do fun shit then be scary. I don’t have much to change for him because he’s perfect. EXCEPT THAT HES ALWAYS BEEN A VAMPIRE FOR HIS VERY LONG LIFE. But he’s not a creep like Jessie and just has goober fun with mortals (not in a rude way) He loves Benny and Ethan of course, but he’s kinda stupid cause he didn’t really pay attention to history and stuff. he was just goofin around, so like there’s funny hints to how old he is in like history museums where it’s just Rory in ancient art being goofy asl. Like in the mummy episode there would be a hieroglyphic of a blond man with shades like doing something goofy and Rory would be all like “ yooo what the flip! I remember that!!”

Sarah Fox: also unchanged, she had the most going for her so I think she’s also perfect. She’s got a weird thing for Ethan and Erica and it confuses her. But she’s kinda leaning towards Erica…. I dunnooooo 🫣

Erica Jones: I like how she’s not reallyyy freinds with anyone except Sarah, like that’s her bestie. She and Rory’s thing did not seem reciprocated so imma just say she and him are forced freinds because of the vampire thing and Rory’s like a super old one so she thinks she has to respect him more, but Rory’s literally so chill that they become good friends. She’s jealous of Ethan tho for reasons that should be obvious.

That’s all I have I don’t have as many ideas or references for MBAV like I do descendants. It’s honestly the same for other shows too like mighty med where I love the base show so much I dont really think it needs my brain activity :D 

[ocean-blue-whump]

To Dream

Follows Safehouse: Night One

Sunny + Star Masterlist

Tagging - @painful-pooch @whumpinggrounds @justplainwhump @whumpfessional - ask if you want to be added/removed!

CW: BBU, nightmares, mention of noncon, description of past character death (the cut is early because of spoilers! read the other parts first)

***

The fever in Star’s body rages on through the night, but she isn’t present for it. No, instead she’s lost in her own world, dreaming. 

She dreams of Sunny most of all. She sees his golden blonde hair, backlit like a halo, his bright blue eyes, and sometimes, she sees the blood pouring out of his head. WRU was a quiet mercy compared to Hunter. Sure, it was all white walls and white floors and pain, but it made sense. She knew she would not die, and she knew Sunny would not die while the Handlers molded them into the perfect pets. With Hunter, all bets were off. 

So she dreams of Sunny. She dreams of the moment he died, but she also dreams of his head in her lap while they rested by one of the floor to ceiling windows in Hunter’s house, waiting for him to return home for work. She dreams of the beautiful boy taking their nutrient loaves from Handler Hanford and feeding her when she was too injured to move. Sunny was good. At his heart, he was good, but he was also a good pet. 

She always envied that about him. He was a perfect obedient pet. He didn’t have the bad thoughts of defiance like she did. His life was for his owner…literally. They were bondeds, they were made to understand everything about each other, but that was the one thing she could never quite get. He loved Hunter. 

But she dreams of Sunny anyways, until the fever in her earthly body reaches a pitch and her dreams change.

She often dreams of Handler Greco. She wasn’t with him for long, not after killing all those handlers, but she can’t get him out of her head. The way he looked at her…she was his prized possession, but deep down, she gets the feeling that she was a man’s prized possession even before Handler Greco. 

She dreams that Handler Greco is standing at the very end of a long hallway, drawing a sickly green vial of liquid into a syringe. His latest experiment…pain, pleasure, or something else. She tries to turn and run but she can’t. She’s stuck, and the hallway starts to shrink until the needle is in her arm and she’s screaming. 

In her sleep, she stirs, she trembles, she shakes. The fever is consuming her, sweat rolls off her forehead as she turns restlessly in bed. 

She dreams of Hunter. Hunter…he did so much. He did horrible sadistic things beyond Star’s wildest imagination. She dreams of those things, of how he held her down and cut her up, how he took advantage of her Romantic training to use her body for his pleasure. The Handlers were supposed to prepare her, but they didn’t even come close and now Hunter chases her through her nightmares and sinks his teeth into her neck. 

She’s so tired. She’s so fucking tired. Even when she sleeps, she doesn’t rest, not really. There’s always someone chasing her. There’s always pain, so much pain, she feels it in her sleep. Her scars burn and ache and she tosses and turns even without the fever, but with it? 

With it, everything is worse. Her dreams make less sense than normal, she cries out and screams and claws at the pillow. 

But she keeps dreaming. She keeps remembering all the horrible, awful things, all the hands on her that pulled her each and every way until it all fades back to Sunny. Soft golden hair, pretty blue eyes, and a smile that could calm everyone down…except that one night where Hunter killed him. 

*Wake up,* he whispers to her. *Be good. Be pretty. You need to wake up.*

The fever breaks around three in the morning. Comet doesn’t notice at first, but when the girl’s frantic cries fade, he uses his shirt to wipe the sweat from her forehead, careful not to wake her up. He doesn’t know what she dreams about, but he knows she gets nightmares. 

Star keeps dreaming, reliving the worst moments of her life over and over in her head. 

[amberstormblade]

Part two of the Viking Piglin AU is here!! If the formatting is off, I apologize! I’m doing this on mobile in my work parking lot. Also, I’m pretending the second level of Grady’s tavern has bedrooms in it because I don’t actually know what’s there so it would make sense.

One last thing! Probably! If you haven’t already, go check out @arckiaym ‘s really cool art that they’ve made based on the concept of this AU! It’s super cool and amazing and I wish to absorb their talent because it’s just that great!

(Hope it’s okay that I tagged you arck, I can probably untag you if you want)

Part One

Legundo had never realized how small Viking was before. He was alway moving around, phasing through things, almost like he was incapable of standing still. But now, as he sat there, shaking in his arms, it was painfully obvious. His jacket hung so loosely off his frame that he was practically drowning in it. The blood that was dripping from his mouth and the pain and confusion painting his eyes didn’t help either.

Speaking of the blood, Joy came over with a damp cloth and started to wipe it away, being extra careful next to the new tusks that were poking from his mouth. They were so short still, it reminded him of the members of his bastion that were fresh from training. While they were technically adults, they were all still so young. Looking at Viking now, he’d fit right in with them. He could see his new tail twitching behind him, as he and Joy now worked together to try and clean his face off. It was obvious that he didn’t have full control over it and that it was bothering him a great deal.

Exhaustion rolled off of Viking in waves. It was clear that the transformation had taken a great deal of energy out of him and that if he wasn’t moved soon, Legundo would become his personal pillow. Viking looked lost in thought in spite of this. He hadn’t spoken much after the initial reveal of his coming back to life, most likely due to the shock of the situation.

“You could set him in my bed for now.” Joy suggested. “Unless you think it would be okay to use the waystones with him. Not quite sure how teleporting would affect the newly revived though.”

Viking jumped at the sudden noise, almost as if he had forgotten that he wasn’t alone. He was quick to cut off any response Legundo had, however. “I’ll be alright. I can just,” He grunts as he shifts to stand, it’s a slightly different noise than what he would have made before and he can’t hold back a flinch. “I can make my way back to my place and then just-” He’s cut off as his legs collapse under him, Joy and Legundo being the only things stopping him from bashing his head on the floor. They gently lower him back down so he can catch his breath.

“Yeah, no offense bud, but I know I’m not letting you out of my sight for a while. Joy probably isn’t either.” She nods in agreement. “You just went through something extremely traumatic to say the least and you’re probably going to need some help. Who knows what’s going to be different now!” Legundo shifted a bit, trying to keep a good grip on Viking. It was a little difficult with the height difference but he and Joy were making it work for now.

“What other differences could there possibly be?” Viking asked, sounding at least slightly in denial of this whole situation. “I mean, I’m fleshy again, sure. That’s going to make it a little more difficult to get in and out of my house but I’ll get by. The tail, also a difference but it’s literally attached to me so I figure I’ll-” As Viking started to ramble, Legs slipped a gold ingot out of his inventory and held it in his face. The younger instantly quieted, all interest now focused on the gold. His pupils dilated until his eyes were practically black and he started making little rumbling sounds. Legundo then put the ingot back in his inventory and Viking seemed to snap back to reality.

“Well you definitely have some new instincts to deal with!” Legundo said with a bit of a chuckle. After a second however, he grimaced slightly, almost speaking to himself. “I’m going to need to teach you about those, aren’t I?”

“Where’d the shiny go?!” Viking was almost distressed, still teetering on the edge of his sudden fixation. “Why did that happen? Why would gold of all things make me do, um, do whatever the heck that was!”

“I’ll explain it to you, don’t worry. Just need to think of a good way to do it.” Legs sighed. He then helped Viking stand again, making sure to go slow just in case.

The small group made their way over to the waystone while Joy and Legundo explained that the transformation seemed to have given him some piglin instincts as well as the obvious physical features. Legs had decided that the best thing for right now would be bringing him to spawn so he could rest until the meet up that was happening that evening. Then they would bring up this development with everyone else and figure out where to go from there. Joy decided to stay back for now as she wanted to start researching into what had happened further and make sure that Viking would be okay. It was only after they had arrived at spawn that Viking noticed something else.

“The sun!” He stared at the sky in awe, almost as if seeing it for the first time. “It-it feels… It feels amazing!”

“Oh yeah, it kind of just hurt you before, didn’t it?” asked Legs, who was still supporting most of his weight. “Not catching on fire must feel nice, huh?”

Viking let out a hum, eyes closed and seemingly soaking up the warmth that he had been missing out on for a long time. He seemed to sag into Legundo as exhaustion threatened to drag him down once more, only to jolt back awake as a strange rumbling sound seemed to come from him. Legs sighed and scooped him up so they could travel faster, deciding to explain yet another new trait along the way.

“Us piglins are capable of making a wide array of noises. That rumbling is something similar to a cat purring, it can mean different things depending on the situation. Sometimes it’s used to help calm others or you make it when you’re calm or content. Sometimes it’ll happen if piglin feel sick but that’s mostly in younger ones. Although, I’m not sure how that would work with you, considering the circumstances.” Viking was doing his best to listen but all he could manage was a small grunt to acknowledge that he’d even heard anything. “Don’t suppose you’re awake enough to point me to your place, are you?” When Viking didn’t respond Legundo just sighed. “All the action today really tired you out, huh. Guess we’ll see if there’s space for you to rest in the tavern, I’m sure Grady won’t mind.”

[yuikomorii]

I think it’s reasonable why some Ayato stans can’t stand Yui given that she doesn’t always treat him in the fairest way either. I’m not condoning how he acted in haunted dark bridal, they were pretty much all assholes and Yui really deserved much better than that but what bothers me is the way she started being written strictly in his routes after the first game.

Before developing my point of view, I want to mention that I did read all his routes and I will intelligibly write down why I don’t have the most positive opinion about Yui there. In more blood, she notices something changed about him. The whole route was about her crying for his love despite the fact that she did nothing other than give him blood. She knew he was struggling, but instead of trying to understand and comfort him, she only cared about her own feelings being reciprocated. There can’t be love when there’s no communication and the fence scene only proved that what she felt for him was mere obsession. He said it in an unserious way but she literally was on the verge of falling down and Ayato was shocked as she did that too. The only reason why I think he expressed his feelings after is cuz he was too afraid of how crazy about him she was to the point that she’d rather end it all than not get his love. I gotta admit that she redeemed herself in the vampire ending, I felt love there but route based she wasn’t shining.

He is seen sacrificing himself for her a lot of times, getting attacked by the wolves, jumping in flames for her, saving her from a bomb explosion, studying for her, getting into university for her, wanting to buy a house just for her, defending her from everyone that says anything negative about her wether that’s a random person or any of his brothers, mother or father.

Then we have Yui that does nothing for him in return. I better not hear ‘She is kind and cooks for him!’ because that doesn’t even come close to all the things he did for her well-being. Don’t get me started on how she tries making him face his abuser in Dark Fate and never defends him when he’s being slandered in front of others, even when they are in the wrong and harming her man. I saw some potential in her in lost eden but I took it back after she started taking such stupid decisions that only made Ayato feel even more guilty and sad rather than actually helping him. I can say the same about chaos lineage. She let his brothers make him feel like trash again, despite feeling bad for him in her thoughts, and only went to comfort him when he was starting to get depressed. Personally I would much rather prefer someone taking my side in front of others than putting honey around me in private. I swear this girl always talks but decides being quiet when she has to use her voice the most *face palm*

That is so ironic because she always expects him to save her ass and protect her all the time when she gets into troubles. At this point you should take a shot everytime Yui says ‘I know Ayato will save me. I know Ayato will protect me.’

Their relationship is not equal and will never be. You guys just like throwing the word ‘healthy’ only when the man loves the woman more but when it’s the other way around, then it’s seen as ‘toxic’.

I do think Yui is worthy of love but she’d fit better with someone that wouldn’t go to great lengths for her 24/7. Ayato is way too passionate and honestly he deserves someone more supportive and useful than her.

// Wow, that was long.

I've discussed this question with several of my friends, and while I generally agree with part of what you said, there are a few points I'd want to clarify.

Yui's actions in MB were essential to the plot of the route. When falling in love for the first time, I think a lot of teenage girls would behave similarly to her . She also acknowledged being selfish in the second last chapter, and it showed character growth when she came to terms with it and began to accept Ayato for who he is, flaws and all. I get that it's not particularly enjoyable to witness someone cry for almost the entire route, but she learnt something valuable from it, therefore I no longer see a problem. It was also confirmed in a book that Ayato was in love with her from the start. He was just confused and didn’t know how to properly explain his feelings due to the curse and trauma, therefore it’s not like he started dating her out of pity or anything like that. I developed this better here, feel free to read it if you want.

I would never consider her a bad girlfriend though. Even if she occasionally doesn't take everything as seriously as she’s supposed to, I believe she is doing her best. Yui isn't the type of person to take advantage of someone else's selflessness, and I have no doubt that she is very grateful of everything Ayato does for her.

Ayato is a bit more involved in the relationship but I don’t think he minds that…? I assume Yui's happiness is enough for him because he never complained about that matter. She still gives him blood, shows him affection and makes him laugh, even when it's not her aim to do so. It’s probably not the best comparison, since he’s putting his life in danger for her, but it’s still something.

Regarding the —not defending— part, I have witnessed several fans express the same displeasure, although I can't recall the specific situations they were referring to. Anyway, yeah, I kinda agree with that because everyone is capable of defending their S/O, so I'm not sure why they nerfed Yui on that.

It could also be the fact that Ayato is always shown as being really strong, therefore Yui probably doesn’t think he is THAT affected by those words. We don’t even know if she is very aware of how his brothers and family treated him in the past. For the players or readers, it makes sense why he gets insecure and feels threatened by their words or lashes out at them, but for someone who is unaware of the truth, it's a different story entirely.

On top of that, Ayato is the main hero. The heroine can shine in other routes but the main hero is the one who needs to show in his own one why he was chosen for the main hero position.

I wouldn’t say she’s not useful or supportive enough, she’s just softer in his routes, which I believe makes more sense to her character. Compared to other routes, she has it quite easy in his ones (except for the bad endings where they’re either both problematic or have to suffer), so I can see why Yui is more bubbly and carefree there. Besides, they both seem to be into the traditional relationship roles.